SWF Lockdown - 9/27/06

[chirs3 0]

SWF Lockdown generates not from the epicenter of the sold out Peace Arch located in Blaine, Washington, but the ratings buster of a show does appear in the office of one Mr. Joseph Peters. Buried in a pile of paper work and stressed by the pressure that comes with running a company that is expected to make money off the chance of hit or miss, the boss looks up as his door flies open to the illustration of one of his clients…

 

“So, you wanted to see me?” A voice rings out from the darkness.

 

Squinting through his blood shot eyes, Joseph Peters flips on a near by lamp, illuminating the surroundings to reveal the second image located in the confines of that similar to a principles of office.

 

He’s young.

 

He’s talented.

 

It’s Zyon.

 

And he’s in trouble.

 

“You no showed Genesis.” That is all the monotone boss can spit out in response to the Unique Youth’s greeting.

 

Taken back by the low tone of one Mr. Peters, Zyon nervously shrugs his shoulders as if asking “what of it?” However, the youth can see the fire in the man that kneels before him…oh wait that’s the nerves. Pulling a chair out to sit down, the youth’s train of thought is quickly interrupted by the no longer monotone Mr. Peters.

 

“Don’t you fucking dare!” The boss slams his fist on his desk, riling up near by papers that have numerous reports of the excellent ratings SWF programming his put up over the weeks, “Did you not here me the first time? You no showed Genesis!!”

 

Pulling himself to a full standing position, quite different from his hunched over “I’m going to sit down, oh shit no I’m not” position of confusion, Zyon is beginning to see what this is all about.

 

“Yeah about that, look I ended up in this hotel and…” And before the youth can finish he gets brutally cut off by a raging Joseph Peters.

 

“SHUT UP! I don’t have the patience for any of your excuses…hell I don’t have the patience for any excuses at all, especially from you?”

 

Now the youth really is beginning to see the big picture.

 

“Whoa, especially from…” Again?

 

“SHUT UP!” Yeah again. “I didn’t bring you in here so you can ask questions or go on some emotional rampage about how you are held down, I hear enough of that as is. Seriously, would you tell me who comes up with something so damn ridiculous as Traitors Never Play World of Warcraft?”

 

“Well my first guess would be…” Oh yeah forgot.

 

“SHUT UP!!!!” The underground seems to shake due to the ferociousness in Joseph Peters’ voice. “This is already taking five minutes longer than it should have. Listen here, I ask the questions and I give the answers. So let me blatantly repeat myself, you no showed Genesis. You, some nobody who was fortunate enough to be granted the opportunity to perform for this fine industry…you bastard. You no showed the BIGGEST SHOW OF THE YEAR!!! You are a nobody. You don’t have the right to no show. It would be so much easier to just suspend you or maybe fire you, but there are a few things…ok fuck that. There is one thing in the way of doing that.”

 

“Firing in professional wrestling never works in the first place.” Zyon is able to get one in on the boss, which can be verified by the background laughter manifesting from the audience.

 

“Oh man, if it wasn’t for this one thing, you would be so fucking gone. As you know, you are the number one contender for the Cruiserweight Title, and will face the winner of the Michael Stephens/Hollywood Spike Jenkins show down. By the way, the only reason Spike is still wrestling is because you couldn’t go all the way and finish him in your match at Battleground, I should have seen your weakness then. I will never make that mistake again! So you should thank god that you were able to defeat a mascot or your ass would surely be gone.” Taking a deep breath, Joseph Peters begins to relax and think straight, “Now if you at least put up a showing against the winner of tonight’s match, I might reconsider and keep you apart of the company. But let’s face it, you’ve done pissed me off. Zyon, tonight is the night you realize you are still that same wide eyed nobody that I brought into this company a year or so ago. It’s no longer in my hands to make you a star. It’s apparent I have done all I can. You can’t turn nothing into something, and DAMNIT YOU ARE NOTHING! NO SHOWING GENESIS, ARE YOU SHITTING ME!!!”

 

Ouch, but he’s not done.

 

The no longer articulate owner looks to be on the edge of his sanity before pulling himself back into reality, “I’m the boss and what I say is law. You, are in contempt of my law, and as your boss, I’m sentencing you to life. A life where your sole existence is to prove to me and only me that you are worth a damn. Understand, you are a nobody. And a nobody isn’t worth a dime to me, which is why as of this moment, you only have one choice, and that is to fight. You will fight Hollywood Spike Jenkins! You will fight Michael Stephens! You will fight Landon Maddix! You will fight Bruce Blank! You will fight whomever the fuck I tell you to. From here until I deem fit, which could be only a week, I restrain you from failing. When you fight for the Cruiserweight Title and you will fight, you need to remember something. If you don’t meet my standards, you will leave the SWF ring and your existence, as a nobody will be terminated. You won’t even be a memory. The name Zyon, will no show the history books, and if that’s not justice, if you don’t agree with my terms…too fucking bad. I don’t negotiate with nobodies, now get the hell out of my office!!!!”

 

The boss finishes laying the law down on the kid that had so much potential, and all the Unique Youth can do is oblige. For a second, the youth believed that there were no strings attached to the wrestling business. And in a matter of minutes due to the underlying hatred swelling in his boss from previous failures, Zyon has come full circle in the wrestling business.

 

He’s still the same fucking puppet he was a year ago.

[chirs3 0]

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
SWF
LOCKDOWN

Live, Wednesday, September 27th, from underneath the Peace Arch in Blaine, Washington!
(7pm PST, 10pm EST; check local listings)
(Send all promos/marked matches to chirs3)



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

SWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH
Michael Stephens ©©© vs. “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins
-> One week after headlining one of the biggest shows in SWF history... one week after winning one of the biggest matches of his career... You would think Michael Stephens would be a pretty happy guy. Then again, you probably wouldn't be very happy if your victory speech involved you getting beaten and bloodied by the man first in line for a shot at his Cruiserweight Championship, Spike Jenkins! There's plenty of history between these two, and you can rest assured this match will be for a good deal more than the gold!
Rules: Standard, with Cruiser addenda.

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

SWF HARDCORE CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH - HOUSE RULES

Jimmy the Doom vs. Landon Maddix
-> I imagine Landon's gotten used to the hardcore scene recently, what with Gabriel Drake beating him up down and sideways, but let's give The Cockroach some credit - he did come out on top at Genesis, besting The Beast in a cage match. He's earned our respect, and a shot at the Hardcore Championship!

And what better place to defend this Championship then at the Peace Arch Park!
Rules: HARDCORE, and the match will begin (and take place in) The Peace Arch Park's Ninth Annual Sculpture Exhibition!

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

Johnny Dangerous vs. “The Divine Wind” Akira Kaibatsu
-> Considering Bruce's comments on AftershoxxxXXxXX, I think the odds of he and Johnny throwing down sometime in the near future are pretty good. Not tonight, though - Bruce is taking the show off to recover from being, you know, MURDERED by Jacob Helmsley. So tonight, Johnny tunes up against a man whose had his fair share of Close Encounters of the Blank Kind - perhaps Akira would like to share strategies and tips with Johnny D... or maybe he'd like to take down the Secret Agent for a huge boost in the rankings!
Rules: Standard singles match.

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

Jacob Helmsley vs. “The Beast” Gabriel Drake
-> Ok... so, uh... wow. Jacob Helmsley's back for one show, and he absolutely dismantles our International Champion in a Hardcore Bout! P'raps Bruce's fixation on the International Championship has softened him a bit, but we can cover that later. What's important here is that Jacob Helmsley made his return count, in a way few people have. His actions did remind me of someone else's recent actions, though... Helmsley's attack bore a decent resemblence to that of Gabriel Drake's beatdown of Landon Maddix. These two definitely deserve each other.
Rules: HARDCORE~!

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

Scion of Light vs. Alan Clark
-> What's the only thing better than debuting at Genesis?

WINNING AT GENESIS!

The Scion of Light came out on top in an impressive showing at G7 - this girl could be going places.

To get to those places, though, she'll first have to play welcoming committee to a man that really doesn't need one - Disney Sponsored Alan Clark has returned to the SWF!
Rules: Standard singles match.

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

Scotty “The Crush” Raina vs. Mike Van Siclen
-> Two men who suffered defeat at Genesis get their first chance to turn it around! Will Van Siclen school the rookie, or will Raina "Crush" MVS? Haha! See what I did there? That was a joke.
Rules: Standard singles match.

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

Nemesis vs. Matt "Cosplay Master" Myers
-> I guess we're all pretty used to Nemesis acting a little strange. So when I say Nemesis has been acting REALLY STRANGE, that should mean something. Perhaps an exhibition against the SWF's resident punching bag can shed some light on just what's happening in the madman's head...
Rules: Standard singles match.

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

[chirs3 0]

The fireworks have been fired off, the opening promo has been promo’ed and now it’s time to really kick off the action portion of Lockdown!!! But first a short interview from backstage

 

Oh joy it’s Ben Hardy talking to a guy that sounds like Matt Myers but since we only see him from behind and the lighting is terrible backstage we can’t be totally sure.

 

Ben Hardy: “Myers a quick word with you before you go out there to face Nemesis”

 

Matt Myers: “I got a word for you Hardy and that’s “Oh Shit”

 

Ben Hardy: “That’s two words. Anyway that’s not what I wanted to ask you at all.”

 

Hardy gives Myers the once over looking at the black boots, cut off jeans and black t-shirt that Myers is wearing tonight.

 

Ben Hardy: “What’s with the get-up?”

 

Myers plays with his fake handlebar moustache for a moment then realizes that Hardy asked him a question.

 

Matt Myers: “I dunno man, when I showed up tonight I found a bag in my locker room with this outfit, a note that said I should wear this and a thousand dollars”

 

Ben Hardy: “Someone paid you a thousand dollars to look like this?”

 

Matt Myers: “Yep”

 

Ben Hardy: “Do you know who paid you? Maybe he’d like me to dress up too?”

 

Myers looks at Hardy in a “what the fuck is wrong with you” kinda way, then adjusts his coonskin hat and turns to the Gorilla position

 

Ben Hardy: “Well there you have it, Matt Myers is a lucky, lucky bastard”

 

After that bombshell of an interview we’re sent straight to ringside where King and Mak are standing by ready for some of that high energy action that’s become the SWF trademark over the years. But first they’ll have to get this match out of the way

 

Funyon: “LAAAAAAAAAAAADIES, GENTLMEN, CHILDREN AND THOSE THAT ARE BOTH!! This is the opening contest of Lockdown set for one fall with a much longer time limit than it needs. Introducing first from “God knows where” here is the Cosplay Master of the SWF MATT MYERS!!”

 

¤ Pause for lack of applause ¤

 

The playful wailing of a saxophone starts off Boots Randolph’s “Yakety Sax”

 

King: “Huh?”

 

Mak: “Eh?”

 

Enter Matt the Doom, complete with dorky coon skin hat and Snidley Whiplash moustache that he tries to twirl menacingly without pulling it off his face. The crowd doesn’t really know what to do or think at this point in time, yes they love Jimmy and harbor no great ill will against Matt Myers but this…

 

This is just too damn odd.

 

King: “Someone paid him money to dress like THAT?”

 

Mak: “Admit it King you’d wear a pink feathered thong for a thousand dollars”

 

King: “Oh no, never again!”

 

Myers tries his best to imitate Jimmy the Doom as he heads to the ring, slides under the bottom rope and then makes the “Straight Bread” signal to the crowd.

 

Professor Attenborough: “HOLD ON!! HOLD ON!!”

 

The Professor comes out with the “Tome of the Gods” under one arm and a microphone at the ready.

 

Professor Attenborough: “I don’t know what you thi…”

 

But before the Professor can really launch into his usual pre-match spiel where he invokes Nemesis and all that hoopla he’s cut off by the Colossus coming through the curtains and heading straight for the ring with a determined cantor.

 

Professor Attenborough: “Nemesis? Get back here you big oaf!!”

 

But Nemesis ignores the Professor, he’s focused solely on Matty the Doom in the ring, leaving a very flustered and annoyed professor behind. Nemesis steps over the top rope into the ring and then launches himself at Matt Myers with a vicious clothesline.

 

¤DING-DING¤ - ¤DING-DING¤

 

King: ”No pyros? No blacklight? Dang I like Nemesis’ entrance”

 

Mak: ”Did you see the way he just shot past the professor? I mean not even a glance at the guy”

 

The professor has finally made it to ringside (he’s old, give him a break) and while he is obviously not happy about being ignored he’s not unhappy about Nemesis progress in the ring. In a word Nemesis is kicking ass, taking Matty the Doom down with a Side Slam that rocks the ring but intentionally not covering his opponent even though he totally could have.

 

Mak: ”There is an anger in Nemesis that I’ve never seen before King, he’s usually so unemotional in the ring”

 

King: ”I know, he’s like an animal in there tonight”

 

He’s an animal in the sense that he keeps growling and roaring at Matt Myers like he was auditioning for the role of Chewbacca, howling each time he drops an elbow on Myer’s skinny chest.

 

¤ THUD ¤

 

”HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUURRRHHH!!”

 

¤ THUD ¤

 

”HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUURRRHHH!!”

 

¤ THUD ¤

 

”HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUURRRHHH!!”

 

Nemesis picks Matty the Doom up by the throat and then throws him half way across the ring into the turnbuckles followed by a (for Nemesis) fast running clothesline.

 

Mak : “Remember we saw Nemesis eat a page from a magazine last week?”

 

King: “How could I forget?”

 

Mak : “It looks like it was the picture of Jimmy the Doom that set him off”

 

King: “Oh you figured that out all by yourself? You’re a clever lad”

 

So now the fans at home know WHO Nemesis reacted to violently on AftershoxxxxXXxxXx but they’re still not in the clear as to why, not that Nemesis is telling anyone. Nemesis has Myers totally under his control as he covers the imitator’s face with the palm of his hand and locks the Claw on while stepping over the top rope onto the apron. With what seems like a flick of the wrist Nemesis pulls Myers up on the top rope before he turns and faces the crowd.

 

DON’T DO IT!!

DON’T DO IT!!

DON’T DO IT!!

 

King: “DO IT”

 

Mak: “DON’T DO IT!!”

 

King: “HIT REVERSE MAK!!”

 

The Suicide King leaps up from behind his desk as Nemesis leaps forward off the apron dragging Myers along with him off the top rope

 

CLAW SLAM THROUGH THE ANNOUNCERS TABLE OMGWTF!!!

 

¤SNAP¤ - ¤CRACKLE¤ - ¤POP¤

 

Mak manages to back the wheelchair away a split second before Matty the Doom comes down on the wooden table, cleaving through it like an axe through balsawood. The Colossus pounds his chest in celebration while roaring in delight.

 

King: “Alright we need a replacement table here, I’m not doing the entire show without a table”

 

Mak: “Myers is DEAD!!”

 

King: “Really? Maybe he can come back in a year or so then as Insane Luchador Dos?”

 

Mak: “This is not a time for jokes King”

 

King: “What are you talking about? We just saw a guy thrown, no SLAMMED off the top rope through our table, it’s either time to make jokes or change pants”

 

Mak: “Ehhhhh”

 

King: “Oh Mak!”

 

The curiously animated and agitated Nemesis grabs Matty the Doom by the shirt and jeans shorts and lifts him up in the air for a Silverback Gorilla Press (it’s bigger than just a regular Gorilla Press get it?) Instead of the traditional “Throwing your helpless opponent over the top rope” routine Nemesis goes over to the ringpost and then THROWS MATT MYERS OVER THE RINGPOST INTO THE RING!!

 

Never let it be said that Nemesis did anything by the book

 

Unless of course that book is the “Tome of the Gods”… although that doesn’t seem to be doing much in the way of controlling Nemesis tonight either.

 

King: “Nemesis could end this right now if he wanted to”

 

Mak: “I know, the Professor is telling him to finish it, he’s PLEADING with Nemesis to finish the job”

 

Professor Attenborough holds up the ancient book pushing it in Nemesis face as he desperately tries to regain control of the “Embodiment of Revenge” but to little avail. Nemesis just turns away from his supposed master and gets back in the ring. Myers does his best impersonation of a Paris Hilton sex video as he lies there letting Nemesis do all the work.

 

King: “Ha!”

 

Mak: “What?”

 

King: “That Paris Hilton sex tape joke, hilarious”

 

Mak: “Ix Nay on the th4 Wall-ay”

 

King: “huh?”

 

Before Mak Francis has a chance to explain the concept of the 4th Wall they’re distracted by Nemesis’ actions. The Colossus has Myers draped over his shoulders in the standard Samoan Drop position that is the beginning of the “Fall from Mount Olympus” but for some reason Nemesis is heading for the corner instead of staying in the middle of the ring.

 

Mak: “I’ve got a bad feeling about this”

 

The crowd is brought to silence as Nemesis steps up on the second rope!!!

 

WTF!

 

And he still has Matty the Doom up on his shoulders!!

 

Double WTF!

 

¤TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMMMMMMMMMMMMMBER!!¤

 

Nemesis drops straight backwards off the second rope driving all of his 410 pounds into Myer’s chest as he’s victimized by Nemesis 2nd rope Samoan drop.

 

ONE!

 

 

………… TWOO!!

 

 

……………………… THREEE!!!

 

 

¤DING-DING¤ - ¤DING-DING¤

 

Mak: “Oh thank god that’s over”

 

The Professor enters the ring only moments after the bell has rung, apparently he’s decided to forgive Nemesis for disobeying him and now tries to reassert his control over the big man. Nemesis stands there and stares down at the Professor who reads from the book. With each passage Nemesis breathing becomes louder and louder like a hissing sound through his leather mask.

 

King: “Nemesis made short work of Myers”

 

Mak: “WHAT THE HELL!!”

 

It appears that Nemesis isn’t quite done with Matt Myers yet as the big man pushes the Professor out of the way and then picks up his already beaten opponent by the throat.

 

¤DING-DING¤ - ¤DING-DING¤ - ¤DING-DING¤ - ¤DING-DING¤

 

The bell doesn’t seem to even register with Nemesis as he launches Matt Myers over the top rope straight to the floor without exerting much energy at all.

 

Mak: “Come on you already beat him severely, it’s over”

 

The Professor seems to mirror Mak’s plead but they fall on deaf ears as Nemesis continues his onslaught on the totally outmatched Matt Myers. Once the Colossus is down on the floor he turns to the guard rail and rips a section loose with a roar, then he straddles the guardrail section between the apron and the regular guardrailing.

 

Mak: “OH PLEASE NO!!”

 

King: “This… ¤gulp¤ this ain’t right”

 

The Professor steps in between Nemesis and the guard rail pleading with the monster to not do what he’s contemplating, he pleads with Nemesis to listen to him but right now the Colossus seems to be off in a world of his own. Myers is unceremoniously pulled back to his feet, then flipped up on Nemesis shoulders, seated ready for a power bomb

 

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

¤CRASH¤CRESH¤HOLYNUTJOB¤

 

HOLY SHIT!!

HOLY SHIT!!

HOLY SHIT!!

HOLY SHIT!!

 

Nemesis does exactly what you thought he was going to do, he power bombs Myers onto the horizontal piece of guardrail with such force that the metal frame actually bends under the impact.

 

King: “This guy is certifiable!”

 

Mak: “I’m deadly serious now King, this beast does not belong in the ring, he should be somewhere in a padded cell with lots of drugs to keep him away from innocent people.”

 

King: “Come on now Myers isn’t TOTALLY innocent, he dressed up as David Blazenwing once remember”

 

After power bombing Matty the Doom Nemesis onslaught finally stops, in fact it all stops: the roaring, the growling, the animated movements and the hissing breathing.

 

His arms go down by his side and he just stands there, looking for instructions from the Professor. The instructions are a bit slow coming as Professor Attenborough has thrown himself to the ground and covered his head with both arms so that he did not see Nemesis attempt at “Extreme Kiropractoring”. When the professor finally looks up and sees the Colossus just staring down at him with that vacant “Yes master” look in his eyes he hesitates before getting up.

 

King: “Is he back under control?”

 

Mak: “He looks like it. Moments ago he was a psychopathic monster and now he just stands there??”

 

King: “I think you’ve already said this but it bears repeating: WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!!”

 

A question that must remain unanswered as Lockdown goes to a commercial break while the carnage is cleaned up, Myers is picked up and a replacement table is brought in for Mak and King.

 

¤¤¤ SWF.COM Exclusive during the commercial break ¤¤¤

 

The Professor leads Nemesis up the aisle with any incident, the Colossus doesn’t even react when the EMT crew runs past them to attend to Matt Myers.

 

(Man that $25 a month subscription is really paying off isn’t it??)

[chirs3 0]

Raina vs. MVS to be edited in.

[chirs3 0]

Location: Backstage, medical facility.

People in the room: Dr. Frank Steiner, Nurse Betty and a very unfortunate Matt Myers

 

Dr. Steiner: “Dear god what happened here?”

 

Nurse Betty: ¤giggles¤

 

The doctor starts to feel the chest just to make sure that everything is in order.

 

Myers: “What…” ¤wheezes¤ “What about my chest?”

 

Dr. Steiner: “Oh sorry about that”

 

Nurse Betty: ¤giggles¤

 

Myers looks like shit, not literally like he’s all brown and lumpy but he looks like he’s been tossed around by a gigantic maniac.

 

Not surprisingly

 

Dr. Steiner: “When will they learn to not have Hardcore matches”

 

Myers doesn’t point out that this wasn’t actually a Hardcore match but Nemesis going totally apeshit on him, instead he’s content to just lie there, moaning and hurting as the Doctor looks at Myers’ X ray by holding it up at the light.

 

Dr. Steiner: “Take a look at this”

 

Nurse Betty: “What is it doctor?”

 

Dr. Steiner: “It’s an X-Ray but that’s not important, what’s important is that none of the vertebra seems to have been damaged… well not seriously damaged anyway but I wouldn’t recommend taking another power bomb onto a guardrail”

 

Nurse Betty: “Did you recommend the first one?” ¤giggles¤

 

Dr. Steiner: “Quiet you, I’m the only one doing stick here”

 

The doctor opens his bag and pulls out a bottle of pills and then turns back towards Matt Myers

 

Dr. Steiner: “Now I want you to take these 4 times a day and get plenty of rest, you are in no way to run around and get beaten up by 7’4’’ inch monsters tonight, I can even give you a note on that”

 

Nurse Betty: ¤giggles¤

 

Myers doesn’t get up, he can’t really since he has no feeling in his lower legs at the moment. The Doctor said that it would pass… eventually and that it was just bruising and swelling pinching his nerves.

 

¤CREEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHH¤

 

A trashcan is thrown through a window sending Nurse Betty running off god knows where. After a moment of silence where the doctor ALMOST convinces himself that it was an accident a green skull appears in the dark, a green skull with horns.

 

Matt Myers: ¤whimpers¤ “mommy”

 

The hissing breathing is back, almost Darth Vader’esque as Nemesis sticks his head through the now empty window frame and looks around. Nemesis looks straight at Matt Myers but because the doctor removed the fake moustache and his clothes are covered up by a blanket Nemesis doesn’t see the similarity between Matt Myers and Jimmy the Doom

 

Dr. Steiner: “That’s quite enough of this malarkey from y…”

 

Nemesis turns and stares at the doctor, the visage of the 7’4’’ inch monster looking at him melts the doctor’s determination on the spot and Dr. Steiner says nothing more. Once Nemesis is satisfied that Jimmy the Doom isn’t in this room he moves on down the hallway while banging on doors and breaking windows left and right

 

Dr. Steiner: “PHEW!! Oh I see you’ve regained the use of your legs, congratulations”

 

Myers had apparently leapt up on the bench and pressed himself back in the corner when Nemesis poked his head in, fear apparently accelerates the healing process, at least when you’re not bound by the normal laws of physics.

 

Matt Myers: “Doctor I’m going to need something stronger than those pills”

 

After a moment of two of contemplation Dr. Steiner slowly nods

 

Dr. Steiner: “It looks like it, come back after the show and I’ll get you something so strong that you won’t care if a monster is standing on your ribcage”

 

Myers meekly thanks the doctor then limps/crawls/drags himself out of the doctors office. When he left the office Myers left the blanket behind, which means that he once again looks very much like a shorter Jimmy the Doom, especially from behind.

 

¤ROAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRR!!¤

 

Matt Myers: “EEEP!”

 

Myers runs as fast as he can, followed moments later by Nemesis who runs by the doctor’s office without even looking in his direction.

 

Dr. Steiner: “hold up this is the wrong X-Ray”

 

Dr. Steiner sees that the name on the picture is wrong, then he flips through the files and folders and finds the right one to examine.

 

Dr. Steiner: “Oh dear”

 

¤ Fade ¤

[chirs3 0]

"So Landon how are you doing after my former best friend threw you into a steel cage at Genesis when you ended his unbeaten run? Are you OK to face Jimmy The Doom in a Hardcore Title match tonight?"

 

"I'm OK Mike, thanks for asking. But what about you? After your gruelling match with Tom Flesher, and Spike assaulting you on AftershoxXx, are you really ready to be defending the Cruiserweight Title?"

 

"Oh, you know me, always ready to prove 'em wrong, by Jingo!"

 

There is a conversation taking place in the trailer that serves as the Galacticos' dressing room. However, only Landon Maddix is taking part.

 

"Feel free to join in anytime," he invites his tag team partner. Stephens' grey eyes flicker to La Cucaracha for a second before he heaves a sigh.

 

"Landon, if you hadn't wanted this match with Jimmy you'd have whined about it since the card was announced," the World, Cruiserweight and Tag Team Champion tells his partner. "I heard no whining, therefore I assumed you were fine with it and didn't bother asking. And for your information," he continues, "I came to check on you after the cage match. When I heard a voice emanating from the stretcher proclaiming how the blood was going to ruin his wrestling gear, I figured you were OK."

 

"Right," Landon says, folding his arms. "And Spike?"

 

"What about Spike?"

 

"Well, I was thinking about, you know, this match?" Maddix says sarcastically. "You've got issues from nearly two years ago, he busted you open on Friday, and last time you faced him, you lost."

 

"What's that to you?" Stephens asks. Clearly, his Last Man Standing loss still rankles.

 

"Because I'm your tag partner, and I need to be able to rely on you in tag matches," Landon declares. "I don't think I'm going to be able to rely on you if you're run down from defending three titles all the time!"

 

"So if I lose tonight I'm only defending two again," Mike says, "win-win situation for you."

 

"Not if Spike does something permanent to you tonight!" Landon snaps, frustration at his partner's attitude finally boiling over. "I'll be honest Mike, your personal safety has never been of massive importance to me, despite the fact that you’ve proved to be not quite the uptight asshole I thought…” Stephens’ eyebrows raise slightly at that one, but Landon ploughs on, “…but one thing I do care about is the fact that you're holding the Tag Titles with me!"

 

"...and if Spike succeeds in doing what he wants tonight, he'll have succeeded where you failed," Mike responds, standing up and facing his partner for the first time. "That a part of it? At all?"

 

The two young men look at each other. The issues between them have been half-buried for some weeks under Joe Peters' confusing booking and their shared dislike, first for Flesher and Matthews and now for Gabriel Drake. But now Michael Stephens has brought it up to the surface again.

 

"You tried everything you could to get out of a match with me," Landon says quietly. "You didn't even protest when you got booked against Spike - all you did was ask for it to be moved back a show. Consider me puzzled by the difference."

 

"What about if I said I was more scared by you than Spike?" Stephens asks.

 

"I'd say you were probably lying," Maddix counters. "Drake scares you Mike, but I never managed it."

 

“Drake scares me?” Mike snaps, “bloody hell, doesn’t he scare you?” The World Champion stares at Landon for a couple of seconds, then softens his tone slightly. The eyes, however, do not change.

 

“Landon, when I came back to the SWF to check on Amy you were clearly labouring under some form of delusion,” he says quickly and quietly, “some sort of mild paranoia that meant you blamed me for everything that had gone wrong in your life since From The Fire last year. While you were still in control of your words and actions, these beliefs clearly influenced you and weighted your choices. Not only was I rusty and lacking practice in the ring and could therefore be an easy target, but I also felt that given your mental state it would be unfair to hold you fully responsible for your actions and therefore act as I normally would. Hence, I did not want to get into the ring with you as I might have to do something that I really didn’t want to, do just to get out of it again.”

 

“And Spike?”

 

“Spike?” Michael Stephens seems to consider for a moment, then leans forward as if to confide a secret to his tag team partner.

 

“Spike’s a cunt.”

 

He turns away from Maddix and pulls on his trenchcoat, then grabs his title belts and puts them one after another into his holdall. Then he heads towards the door, brushing past Landon as he does so. “I’m going to find Amy,” he tells Maddix, not turning his head. “Good luck against Doom.”

 

“Look, Toxxi-” Landon begins, then stops himself. The name dies in his throat as Michael Stephens turns back to look at him.

 

“What?”

 

Maddix doesn’t speak for a moment, but looks at his partner in confusion.

 

“What?” Stephens repeats, slight impatience tingeing his voice.

 

“Nothing… don’t worry about it,” Maddix mumbles, making a vague gesture with one hand. Stephens regards him curiously for a moment longer, then shrugs.

 

“OK.” He starts to turn away, looks back and regards Landon again with a perplexed expression as if he knows he’s missing something, then turns away fully. “Seeya around, Landon.”

 

Landon Maddix watches the World Champion, Cruiserweight Champion and his co-Tag Team Champion walk out of the door and away across the parkland towards wherever his sister has located herself (generally finding the nearest place that sells beer is a good place to start). Maddix has never been much of a one for deep and considered thought as it’s always so much easier to get Megan to do it, but he sits down and for a few minutes doesn’t move much.

 

Then he shakes himself, gets up and starts hunting around for his ring gear. He’s got a match against Jimmy The Doom to focus on. Michael Stephens can look after himself for a while longer.

[chirs3 0]

“Please Stand Clear of the Ring…”

 

Any lights within close proximity to the ring are darkened down, leaving only the stars above to illuminate the Peace Arch and the ring below it.

 

“Por favor Soporte Claro del Anillo…”

 

“You know, I saw those little promos and I read all the memos that got sent around, but I still cannot believe this…” the voice of the Suicide King is heard as the crowds of people do indeed stand clear, with a few people near the front stomping out dimly lit cigarettes in preparation of the next announcement.

 

“For the Safety and Comfort of Others…No Smoking Please…”

 

“Well, it’s been almost three years since we last heard these words, and for some it probably hasn’t been long enough”

 

“You got that, Mak”

 

“Para la Seguridad Y la Comodidad de Otras... El Ningún Fumar Por favor….

 

 

…the Walt Disney Company and the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation are proud to present…the following matchup…”

 

The special outdoor-use only Smarktron lights up to show Tinkerbell flying over Blaine, Washington and down toward the Arch as “When You Wish Upon A Star” begins to play over the loudspeakers.

 

When you wish upon a star

Makes no difference who you are

Anything your heart desires

Will come to you…

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen…” Funyon’s voice booms over the music, “the following contest is scheduled for one fall!!

 

…introducing first…representing Disneyland and being accompanied to the ring by Walter Reynolds…weighing in at two hundred twenty five pounds…he is the self-proclaimed and copyrighted Happiest Guy On Earth…

 

ALAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN CLAAAAAAAAAAAAARK!!”

 

The crowd explodes in cheers as Walter Reynolds appears from behind the small curtain set-up with Alan Clark quickly on his heels, or at least, they think it’s Alan Clark.

 

“I don’t believe this…” King mutters to himself as a spotlight hits Clark, who is decked out in large baggy red shorts, yellow wrestling boots, white gloves, and his own set of Mickey Mouse ears.

 

“Maybe he’s the leader of the club that’s meant for you and me, King!”

 

“Pfft…maybe he’s a freaking lunatic.”

 

Alan high-fives a few fans as he makes his way to the ring, then stars off in a run, slapping hands as he blurs around the entire outside of the ring before stopping back in the aisle next to Reynolds. The two quickly shake hands before Clark rolls under the bottom rope and into the ring, turning back to face the curtain as the lights around the ring return to their normal radiance and the music begins to fade, only to be replaced by the rushing hook of Muse’s “Knights of Cydonia”.

 

“No one's gonna take me alive

The time has come to make things right

You and I must fight for our rights

You and I must fight to survive"

 

BOOOOOOOM!!!

 

 

From behind the Arch, blasts of glistening white pyrotechnics explode and lights hit the entranceway, signaling the arrival of the Scion of Light, who leaps through the curtain and hits the small stage, landing on her feet before rolling through a quick somersault, pausing to strike a pose, the tradition of the Kamen coursing strongly through her.

 

“…and now here’s this other weirdo…” King shakes his head and drops his eyes to the desk as Funyon continues with his announcements.

 

“And his opponent…coming to the ring at this time…WOOAAAH” Funyon is nearly barreled over as the S.O.L., as she likes to be called, hits the ring like a shot, sliding under the bottom rope and to her feet, stopping only two feet from the nose of Alan Clark, who, after getting a good first look at his opponent’s long flowing blond hair, backs up to the ropes and calls for Walter.

 

“Walter!” the camera catches Alan’s quick meeting of the minds with his second, “Am I…allowed to hit girls?”

 

“Is he WHAT?” Mak Francis spits PepsiMAX all over his monitor, leaving some poor ring crew member to clean it up.

 

“It’s contracted and legal, Mr. Clark” is Reynold’s reply. Clark nods and turns his attention back to the ring where referee Sexton Hardcastle has entered the ring after assisting with Funyon’s exit. The Scion of Light stands before both Hardcastle and Clark, looking as ready as ever to fight.

 

“HI!”

 

“Hi?”

 

“How are you doing today?” Alan Clark’s voice can be heard echoing out from the ring as he approaches his female opponent, his arm extending for a cordial handshake. “Nice to meet you! My name is Alan.” Clark stands there with his hand out for a shake as the Scion’s steady pose wavers and she hesitates to shake his hand.

 

“I’d hesitate too, but that dumb ass had to HUG ME!” King’s body shudders once more as Alan looks out for some help from the fans, who start to chant in unison.

 

“SHAKE! SHAKE! SHAKE!”

 

“Leave to the fans here in Washington to chant ‘shake’ at a young virile female.”

 

“Hey, I saw video from your bachelor party, King.”

 

“You saw no such thing!” King replies, then mutters something under his breath about hitting Chris Raynor with a baseball bat as, inside the ring, the Scion of Light finally reaches out and shakes the hand of Clark, much to the delight of the crowd!

 

“RRRRAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

 

“Now can we get this match started?” Sexton seems to be growing restless, but after a quick nod from Alan, he signals for the bell!

 

*DING DING DING*

“Finally! Now if only this wasn’t a match featuring Mickey Mouse and a freaking Power Ranger” remarks the King as Alan and the S.O.L. move across the ring from each other, both unsure of the first move they should make against the other.

 

“Alan Clark is a very decorated wrestler, regardless of his ring attire. He’s won some gold.”

 

“It look’s like he’s lost his marbles.”

 

“That happened a long time a-HEY!” Francis is cut off as the Scion makes the first move, speeding across the ring and looking to start this match off with a clothesline…

 

 

 

DUCKED!!

 

 

SPROOING!!

 

 

Alan ducks the attempt and pops back up as the femme fatale comes bouncing back at him…

 

SMACK!

 

 

“Alan Clark with a clothesline, and the Scion is—no! she’s not down, she’s back up!” Mak is right on top of things with the call, but as Alan tries to follow-up on his clothesline, the plucky S.O.L. nips off her back, catching her legs around the Happiest Neck on Earth, flipping Clark to the outside with a low-flying headscissor takedown!

 

“Just when Clark thought his veteran instincts had given him an advantage, the rookie takes him to the outside!”

 

“HE LOST HIS EARS!!” King howls as Alan’s mouse ears have flown from his head and landed on the mat on the outside. As Clark gets to his feet he hands off the ears to a fan beyond the barricade, telling the young boy to have a magical…

 

“LOOK OUT!” Mak yells as Clark turns around to see the Scion of Light flying through the air over the top rope…

 

 

“HE MOVED!” cries King, but the Scion is able to catch her hands on the top rope and pull herself back in from a risky dive, her feet landing with a bounce on the apron.

 

“The Scion of Light almost became the first Crash of the Night, only to save herself at what had to be the last possible sec—“

 

SMACK!!

 

“Oooooooh!”

 

The crowd moans and groans as Alan grabs at the Scion’s feet and pulls out, causing the rookie to fall straight from the apron, her face hitting the side of the ring and putting her down on her back on the floor.

 

“You know, that creepy, cheery Clark has never been my favorite superstar to step into that ring, but if he keeps making that other creepy, mighty morphin whats-it eat canvas I might have to…”

 

“…give him a hug, King?”

 

“No, Francis. I might have to not smack him upside his zip-a-dee-doo-dah head later.”

 

“Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, King? That’s the spirit!” Mak giggles to himself as Alan throws the S.O.L. back into the ring and goes for a quick cover.

 

One!!

 

 

 

Tw—

 

 

Kickout!!

 

“Easy kickout from the Scion of Light, and you have to know that Alan Clark knew that would not be enough so early. Say what you want about her size, but she has a lot of fight in her!”

 

“Is that why she waited until almost all the opposition was eliminated before even stepping into the ring at Genesis? I’d call that ‘cowardice’!”

 

“You would have done the same thing, King!”

 

“But when I do it, it’s genius!!” Mak can be heard slapping his face in annoyance as Alan pulls the Scion of Light to her feet, though not by the hair because that would be wrong, and slams her face with all the gentle precision of an Unholy Trinity double team into the turnbuckle.

 

"Ooooooooooh!"

 

The crowd gasps as the Scion’s head ricochets from the corner before Clark spins her around, catching her with a barrage of hard chops just ABOVE the chest region.

 

*CHOP*

 

*CHOP*

 

*CHOP*

 

“Those hard chops could break the Scion of Light’s collarbone!”

 

“Why’s he hitting so high? Boy could break his freaking hand doing that! There are cushions less than six inches down!” King lewdly points, but Mak quickly points out that this segment of the show is rated G, as the symbol appears in the corner of the frame.

 

“Whatever” replies the King as he begins to look for his camera, only to find that it is sadly missing.

 

“This is not a night for whatevers, King! You have to WONDER what is going to happen when Spike Jenkins and the newest Triple Crown champion in SWF history square off for a piece of that Triple—MY GOD!! Alan Clark just went for his own Kodak Moment, but did not get the kind he was looking for!!” Mak is once more caught off guard as Alan Clark looks for a dropkick, only for the S.O.L. to slip out from underneath the outstretched legs of the veteran, leaving Clark to do nothing but crash-land on the top turnbuckle backside-first!!

 

“I guess that ring rust everyone hears about is faster acting than we first thought. He hasn’t been away that long” calls King as Alan tries to gain his balance on the top rope, only for the Scion to move in from behind, hooking Clark’s legs around the buckle and throwing him back, his body flipping upside down with his head smacking violently off the bottom turnbuckle!

 

“TREE OF WOE! THE SCION OF LIGHT HAS CLARK TRAPPED!!” Mak exclaims as the rookie moves across the ring and strikes yet another fighting pose before burning white rubber back toward the corner, sliding like a dart through the crisp night air, slamming her feet right between the eyes of the Happiest Guy on Earth!

 

 

SMAAACK!!

 

 

“…and she connects!!” Alan’s hands go to his face as the Scion of Light gets back to her feet, only to pull the hands back away from his face and up in the air, giving his arms a hard yank…

 

 

 

THUUUUUUDD!!!

 

 

…pulling him off the top turnbuckle and slamming him back first to the canvas!!

 

“COVER!!”

 

 

One!!

 

 

 

Two!!!

 

 

KICKOUT!!

 

 

Alan kicks out, pushing the smaller rookie off of his body with more ease than he was expecting, almost putting the plucky Scion right on top of Sexton Hardcastle, who has to keep from blushing as he calls the two count and stands back to his feet, making sure the S.O.L. knows that the match is still going.

 

“Don’t slip her your hotel key, Hardcastle! I’m watching you!” the Suicide King calls as the Scion pulls Clark back up to his feet.

 

“You think that kind of good-natured, peaceful warrior would be keen to the advances of a man named ‘Sexton’, King?” Mak asks as the Scion goes for an irish whip, only for the larger and stronger Clark to reverse!!

 

 

The Scion of Light is sent across the ring toward the ropes…

 

 

 

“HANDSPRING!!”

 

SPROOOOOOOOING!!

 

 

 

“ELB—NOOO!!!”

 

 

THUD!

“The Scion of Light tried to turn the tides back on Alan Clark after that reversal, but the veteran was able to duck out of the way just in the NICK OF TIME, giving the Scion quite the rough landing!”

 

“That light was almost put out!”

 

“King, we might not seen much of this newcomer, but even you have to say that it will take a heck of a lot more than a missed elbow to put her down!” calls Francis as Clark stands back to his feet, doing one quick spin, showcasing a large smile before pulling the Scion up to her feet and then in the air, putting her across his shoulders as he continues with his spin, his body like a dervish around the ring, Sexton doing his best to stay out of the way of the white feet and blonde hair flying out as Clark’s speed intesifies!

 

“It’s A Whole New Whirl for the Scion of Light!”

 

“Is every turn a surprise?” King mutters half-heartedly as Clark slows, dropping the Scion on her feet, her body dizzied from the airplane spin.

 

“That’s the spirit!” Half-hearted partner or not, Mak can’t help but laugh as Clark eyes up his opponent and moves in…hooking the back of the S.O.L.’s head…

 

 

SMACK!

 

 

…and drives it into the canvas with a hard bulldog! Before the rookie can even react, Clark is up and heading toward the ropes, bouncing off the second rope and throwing his body backwards, sending his feet high over his head and rolling over and down onto the Scion of Light’s back with a hard splash!!

 

“Alan has called that his Walk In The Park, but I doubt that’s what the Scion is thin-and a PIN!!”

 

One!!

 

 

 

Two!!

 

 

Th—NOOOOO!!

 

The Scion of Light barely gets her shoulder up before the three, but Alan Clark does not seem to mind at all as he pulls the Scion up by the back of her head, only to throw a hard forearm right between her masked eyes!!

 

“I didn’t see much happiness there!” calls the King as the Scion’s head recoils back against the canvas as Clark steps up and over top of her, making his way to the corner and looking out to the crowd, rolling his hands over his head as he looks to climb the ropes…

 

“Alan Clark is heading up to the top rope! Could he be trying to finish the rookie off here!! The last time Alan Clark defeated a rookie in their second match, that rookie went on to be known as the Triple Crown Champion Michael Stephens! Maybe the Scion of Light should stay down and see if Alan Clark’s good luck can rub off on her as well!”

 

“I think some of these guys here in the front row would rather rub off on the Scion of Light the way they are looking at that tight white catsuit! Good thing Annie Eclectic isn’t here!”

 

“KING! This is rated G, how many times must I tell you that!” Mak yells out as Walter Reynolds can be seen looking towards the announce booth on the outside of the ring.

 

“You don’t want him getting upset do you?”

 

“Oh I’ve beaten bigger guys than him in alleys!”

 

“I don’t think there was anyone nearly that size in The Alley, King!” Mak responds loudly as Walter can be seen turning his attention back to the action as Alan’s body flies from the top rope, spinning unnaturally backwards during his forward leap…his body looking for a target…

 

 

 

THUUUUUUUUD!!

 

 

…and finds nothing but canvas!!

 

“Alan Clark almost hit the Scion of Light with her own signature Sinstriker’s Will! I guess we can call that the Trespasser’s Will!”

 

“The what?”

 

“Trespasser’s Will, King! Winnie The Pooh’s grandfather who lived in his house in the Hundred Acre Wood!”

 

“Do you have kids, Francis?”

 

“Probably, that’s why I like moving around as much as I do!”

 

“I can see that” Suicide King glances down at the wheels below Francis as Clark rolls around in the ring clutching at his stomach in pain as the Scion gets back to her feet. Looking to regain the advantage, she wastes little time in posing or lollygagging as she pulls Alan back up to his feet by the back of his head, the hair tug causing Sexton to hand down a quick warning as the rookie tosses Clark into the corner and leaps up, her feet pressing into the Happiest Stomach on Earth before she grabs at Alan’s head and falls backwards, launching Clark up and out with a picture perfect monkey flip!!

 

“The athleticism of the Scion of Light is not something anyone should take lightly, she might be small, but she is more agile than most men, and even with Alan Clark being a former cruiserweight champion even he might not be able to keep—OH MY!! SHINING WIZARD ON ALAN CLARK!!” Mak can barely get a thought together as the Scion of Light’s knee comes crashing into the back of Alan’s skull as he sits on his knees, trying (and subsequently failing) to recover from his flight across the ring. His chest and face strike the canvas with no protection before the S.O.L. goes for another quick cover…

 

 

One!!

 

 

 

Two!!

 

 

Threeee---NOOO!!!

 

 

“Alan Clark is able to get his shoulder up at the last possible moment there! We almost saw an upset right here in Blaine, Washington. Cheap Pop!”

 

“Speaking of cheap pop, tonight’s show is brought to you by PepsiMAX, one of the longest running sponsors in SWF history! PepsiMAX, it’s Pepsi…TO THE MAX!!” The Suicide King tries to oversell the finish as the PepsiMax logo appears in the corner of the screen for a brief moment as the Scion of Light looks to continue her attack, dragging Alan up and holding her left hand high above her head before slapping at her thigh and whipping him into the ropes once more…

 

 

“This could be IT!” Mak calls as Clark hits the ropes and the S.O.L. rushes off the adjacent side of the ring, getting her speed and rolling her body into position as the two look to collide in the center of the ring…

 

 

 

“CLEANSING BEAM!!!”

 

 

 

DUCKED!!

 

 

WHAAAM!!

 

“CUTTING IN LINE! Alan Clark ducked out of the way of the Cleansing Beam BARELY, and turned the rookie sensation right around and CUT IN LINE with that vicious neckbreaker!!”

 

“If she continues with these rookie mistakes then that happy bastard might just walk out of Washington with a win, and really, does anybody want that? Anybody?” King’s question is to no-one in particular, but the crowd responds with a chant that has not been heard in years…

 

“AL-AN! AL-AN! AL-AN!

AL-AN! AL-AN! AL-AN!”

 

Clark responds to the cheers, raising his hands high before once more heads to the corner and hops up with a single bound before flying back out across the ring….

 

 

WHAAM!!

 

 

“THE PARKHOPPER!! A beautiful frog splash connects on the Scion of Light!!”

 

“Where are you getting this information?”

 

“I read my memos, King…and another cover for Clark!”

 

One!!

 

 

 

Two!!

 

 

 

Three!!!!

 

 

 

NOOOOOO!!!!

 

 

“Unbelievable! I think this whole crowd thought Alan Clark had the match won!!” Mak exclaims as Clark looks up, the dismay caught on his face as he looks toward Sexton, but as the long-time referee shows that it was indeed a two-count and replays fly across the screen, the dismay morphs back to his trademark (and probably now copyrighted) half-smirk/half-smile.

 

“Uh oh…there’s that Eerie Cheer Factor again! What’s he smiling about?”

 

“I don’t think any of us really wants to know, King!” Clark can be seen giving a quick thumbs up to Walter on the outside, who returns it with barely a facial movement. “And that bodyguard on the outside really is an unsettling image, especially when the person he is guarding is Alan Clark!”

 

“I’ll give you that one, Francis. I hope he’s making decent money.” The Suicide King replies as the recovering Scion finds a hand on the back of her head pulling her up, only for the rookie to pull away and go back into a fighting stance, catching the veteran off guard with a hard kick to the midsection as his eyes turn back to his opponent.

 

 

…and another!

 

 

…and another!

 

“Alan Clark is reeling after the Scion of Light gains her second wind!! She’s got him trapped back in the corner now!” calls Francis as Clark tries to fight out from the sudden burst of energy, only to be caught in a headlock from the S.O.L. as she fires out a barrage of hard knee strikes right to the face of the Happiest Guy On Earth, his body wanting to get away but the grip of the rookie, even at her size, is tighter than a pickle jar in HVille.

 

Sexton moves in as Clark’s arm gets between the ropes, calling for the break from the Scion, who obliges duely. With the grip released, Clark falls to his knees and begins to crawl toward the center of the ring, doing whatever he can to get out of the claustrophobic situation he was in. On the outside, the Suicide King seems amused.

 

“He’s CRAWLING! He’s on his hands and knees and CRAWLING!”

 

“But I doubt he’s going to like what’s coming at him when he stands UP!” Francis’ voice heightens as Clark stands in the middle of the ring and turns around to face his opponent…

 

 

…who happens to be flying straight for him, her arms and legs spread-eagle as she slams straight into his chest and puts him down on his back on the canvas!!

 

“Huge cross body there!! For giving up over sixty pounds of weight and a half-foot in height, this ball of energy is not someone that should be taken lightly!” Mak continues as the Scion stays on top of Alan for another pin attempt as Sexton hits the mat…

 

 

One!!

 

 

 

 

Two!!!

 

 

 

Three!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

NOOOOOO!!

 

 

“SO CLOSE TO VICTORY FOR THE ROOKIE! ANOTHER COVER!!”

 

One!!

 

 

 

Two!!

 

 

 

NOOOO!!

 

“Alan Clark was able to get up a little quicker that time as the rookie tries to keep the pressure on!”

 

“That might have been a mistake there, as one kickout rarely leads to a second chance victory! Any veteran can tell you that!” remarks the King as the Scion of Light lifts Clark up, throwing out one more hard knee straight between the eyes before whipping Alan across the ring before once more heading toward the adjacent ropes…

 

“She’s trying for the Cleansing Beam once more!!”

 

 

 

SMAAAAACK!!

 

 

“...AND SHE CONNECTS!!’

 

“All the way to the OUTSIDE!” The Suicide King yells as the force behind the hard superkick sends Alan Clark rolling straight under the bottom rope and out of the ring to the floor and to the feet of Walter Reynolds!

 

“The Scion of Light almost took out two men with ONE Cleansing Beam! Where else can you see that but RIGHT HERE in the SWF!!” Mak shills loudly and proudly as Walter steps back to allow room for his man to get back to his feet as Sexton watches on to make sure there is no foul play. Just as Clark gets to his feet he turns to face away from the ring and towards Reynolds, who takes a dive to his left just as the two men catch eyes, causing Alan to also dive to his right just as the Scion of Light dives over the top rope…

 

…and crashes into NOTHING BUT THE FLOOR!!!

 

 

HOLY (BLEEP)! HOLY (BLEEP)!

HOLY (BLEEP)! HOLY (BLEEP)!

 

“They really are keeping this G-rated…”

 

“The Scion of Light just fell EIGHT FEET from the sky and caught nothing but the ground!” Mak yells as the S.O.L. lays on her back on the ground, a small amount of movement showing that she is still conscious after the high risk dive!

 

“If Walter Reynolds have not seen her coming, Alan Clark might have caught all one hundred sixty pounds of his opponent right on the back of his neck!”

 

“There was no contact and not even a single word said between Clark and Reynolds there, but if I was in his shoes and I saw a man almost twice my size take a dive I’d be right behind him just as Clark was, and that dive paid off big time for the Happiest Guy On Earth!” Francis continues to make the call as replays show the big high-risk dive from the rookie as well as the quick reaction of Clark and his bodyguard leaving the S.O.L. to crash and burn.

 

“Unbelievable how that girl is even MOVING!” even King is impressed as Sexton begins his count, barely getting to two before Clark throws the rookie back into the ring, following behind and standing to his feet as he looks down on his opponent who is still barely recovered for the missed dive.

 

With little hesitation, Alan pulls the legs of the Scion up in the air, crossing them and placing her back against his shins before spreading his legs so that each foot pins down an arm.

 

“Here it comes, King! It might not be the most famous move in Alan Clark’s bag of tricks, but he made quite a few people tap out as they took this trip!” Mak makes the call as Alan bends his body forward, his own weight pushing the Scion’s knees to her chest before he clutches at the back of her head and rolls his own body backwards…

 

“Trip?”

 

“…TO EPSOT!!” exclaims Francis as Clark rolls to his back and pushes with his feet, stretching the shoulders beyond it’s limits as he pulls the head and neck into the knees, a living origami sculpture right in the center of the ring…

 

 

 

 

“That’s insane!” calls the King as the painfully awakened Scion tries to fight free, but her body is trapped with her knees only inches from her forehead…

 

 

 

“No one has ever gotten away from EPSOT without tapping out….

 

 

 

*DING DING DING*

 

 

“…and neither has the SCION OF LIGHT!!”

 

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen…” Funyon’s voice booms as Clark relaxes his hold, dropping the body of the S.O.L. next to him. “…the winner of this bout as the result of a submission…the Happiest Guy On Earth….

 

ALAAAAAAAAN CLAAAAAAARK!!”

 

 

“They traded pinfalls all match, but it was the luck of the veteran Clark that got him the victory tonight, and there is still so much more to go! Two titles to be defended here tonight, including Michael Stephens taking on his long-time rival Spike Jenkins for the Cruiserweight Title in our Main Event! But up next, folks, another storied veteran Jacob Helmsley takes on relative newcomer Gabriel Drake! Can Jacob make it two in a row for the first time in practically forever? STAY TUNED!” Mak keeps the viewing audience hyped as the delightful melody of “When You Wish Upon A Star” takes Lockdown to another scheduled commercial break.

[chirs3 0]

Location: Backstage, Matt “Matty the Doom” Myers’ locker room

People Present: A very selfsatisfied, condescending Ben Hardy and a closed door with the name “Jimmy the Doom II” on the door

 

Hardy: “Who put that on the door?”

 

If anyone but Ben Hardy had asked one of the people near by might have answered, so naturally there is no answer to his inquiry.

 

Cameraman: ¤A-HEM!¤

 

Hardy: “Oh we’re on! Super… great… just awesome”

 

Hardy’s face tightens as he clenches his teeth, he should have known he was on air. Then he relaxes and adopts a big goofy grin to cover up his earlier blunder.

 

Hardy: “I am Ben Hardy SWF Investigative reporter. I’m standing here outside Matt Myers’ locker room and from the looks of it someone is still trying to make Matt look as much like Jimmy the Doom as possible”

 

Hardy displays a knack for the obvious.

 

Hardy: “Although we do not know who is doing this or indeed WHY Nemesis is chasing after anyone and anything that resembles Jimmy the Doom we do know one thing”

 

And then a pause, because that thing that they knew? Hardy forgot it

 

Hardy: “Erm… and that’s that Matt Myers is inside this locker room trying to hide from the rampaging monster known as Nemesis.”

 

Hardy knocks on the door

 

Hardy: “Myers! Open the door it’s Ben Hardy”

 

Matt Myers: “Is he out there?”

 

Myers answers but doesn’t open the door.

 

Hardy: “Who?”

 

Matt Myers: “Who do you think jackass, Fidel Freaking Castro?”

 

Hardy: “Oh Nemesis, no I haven’t seen him. Besides I hear that Professor Attenborough finally got him under control, he won’t be attacking you any time soon”

 

Matt Myers: “I don’t believe you”

 

Hardy: “Alright I’ll prove it to you then.”

 

Ben Hardy grabs out a conveniently placed bull horn and yells in it.

 

Hardy: “HEY NEMESIS!!! JIMMY THE DOOM IS IN THIS ROOM”

 

…

 

Matt Myers: “Are you insane?”

 

Hardy: “Oh relax he’s under control again”

 

Matt Myers: “How would you know?”

 

Hardy: “I’m a reporter I have sources, trust me”

 

Myers opens the door slightly, just enough to peek out, then when he’s satisfied he opens the door all the way.

 

Hardy: “How are you feeling Matt?”

 

Myers just stares at Ben Hardy for asking such a retarded question, his face and his body tells a clear picture of how he’s doing, especially the bruises on his face and the fact that he’s wrapped up from waist to shoulder in a chest protector and what looks like a spine brace.

 

Matt Myers: “I’m being chased by a maniac how about you?”

 

Hardy: “Oh I’m fine”

 

Apparently Ben Hardy is oblivious to a concept called “sarcasm”

 

Matt Myers: “Well that’s just swell”

 

Before Hardy can thank Myers for the kind words the Cosplay Master lets out a girlish shriek and then slams the door shut as a large shadow appears in the distance.

 

Followed by the wheezing Darth Vader breathing.

 

Hardy: “Oh Nemesis, excellent” (Hardy pumps his fist, this could be his big break if he could interview Nemesis) “So sir why are you…”

 

Nemesis does what most other people in the SWF does, ignores Ben Hardy and continues on with what he was doing. With a bloodcurdling roar Nemesis crashes into the locker room door, splitting it down the middle as well as knocking it off the hinges.

 

Matt Myers: “GET AWAY FROM ME YOU FREAK!!”

 

Myers is half way out the window by the time Nemesis knocks the door in and seeing the monster appear just encourages him to just go for it and ignore the pain as much as he can.

 

Adrenaline, it’s a great drug ¤Thumbs up¤

 

¤ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRARHH¤

 

It’s Matt Myers’ salvation that the window in the locker room is so small that the Colossus can’t fit through it to follow him. This allows Matt Myers to run off in the night alternating between crying out in terror and crying out in pain. Ben Hardy suddenly forces himself into the picture once more with his trusty microphone in hand.

 

Hardy: “You’ve heard it here first, Matt Myers has been chased from the building by Nemesis. Now Mr. Nemesis if you could please explain to us why you’ve got such a problem with Jimmy the Doom”

 

…

 

Hardy: “Mr. Nemesis?”

 

¤CRASH!!¤

 

Static…

 

Fade…

[chirs3 0]

“Welcome back to SWF Lockdown!” Mak begins, “I’m Mak Francis, along with the Suicide King, here at the Peace Arch in Blaine, Washington, and tonight we’ve got one hell of a show off the heels of Genesis Seven and Aftershoxxxx!”

 

“Well, at least we’re no longer in Canada… I’d readily go back on the fictional World tour if it meant we’d never have to enter that place again.” King quips, even drawing a smile from his announce partner.

 

“But seriously, all kidding aside-”

 

“I wasn’t kidding, Francis!” King says, cutting Mak short. “The only thing Canada had going for it was Genesis seven happening there!”

 

“Speaking of Genesis, King, our next participant has lost a little of his luster.” Mak says, reminding everyone of Genesis Cage Match finish once again. “Gabriel Drake is official undefeated nomore!”

 

“No, now he’s just never been pinned or made to submit!” King responds, getting one over his announce partner. “Anyway this match is a rare one for the SWF! Two wrestlers who actually weigh more than two hundred pounds soaking wet, going toe to toe against each other in a hardcore blow-out!”

 

“That sounds more like a porno than match commentary, King!”

 

Mak’s quip hangs unanswered, as King prefers instead to give him a one finger salute in response. The dead air continues as several moments pass creating a feeling of discomfort before the now familiar eerie blue light covers the arena. The Washington crowd begins to boo in the chillingly blue-filled arena as the opening twangs of a guitar echo through the arena. The slow melody continues and is even amplified by a flash from several bright white strobe lights. “The Devil’s Rejects” by Rob Zombie slowly takes form while the lyrics begin…

 

“I am the bad one… Distant and cruel one,

I am the dream that, keeps you running down…”

 

And with that ‘The Beast’ makes his way through the curtain, staring out at the audience who continues to jeer. Drake, illuminated by a mix of white strobes and the menacing blue hue stands still, letting everyone get a good look.

 

“With distraction… Violent reaction… Scars of my actions,

Watch me running out…”

 

“The un-pinned and un-submitted Gabriel Drake making his way out to the ring and sadly it just doesn’t have the same ring to it.” Mak jibes, his sarcasm reamerging as he continues to talk about ‘the Beast’, who is looking out at the crowd with an amused sneer. “After trying to sit down with the guy after his loss-”

 

“-I know you can't speak normal english, but ebonics isn't even that bad!” King screams, having been shaking his head throughout Mak's entire speech. “And he didn’t lose in my book! Maddix dove out of a Cage onto his face! He's the only loser in that situation!”

 

“Hell doesn't want them.

Hell doesn't need them.

Hell doesn't love them.”

 

“As I was saying, I tried to talk to Gabe Drake about his loss and he remains adamant that he is still unbeaten… in the sense that no-one has either pinned him or made him submit.”

 

“And he speaks the truth—I know that if Landon had to pin or submit Drake he couldn’t do it. Peters gave Maddix a way out when he added escape rules!” King remarks as the song comes to a crescendo, while Funyon prepares to speak.

 

“And his opponent, making his way to the ring, from Athens, Georgia, weighing in tonight at two hundred and fifty-eight pounds, he is ‘The Beast’ GABRIEL DRRRRRRRRAAAAAKKKKKKEEEE!”

 

Drake climbs the ring steps and moves onto the apron, wiping his feet before swinging his legs through the ropes. Now inside the ring he stares down the ref, Eddy Long, before going to the turnbuckle and just staring out at the crowd.

 

“The Devil's Rejects… Rejects…”

 

“The devil’s rejects… rejects…”

 

Gabe hops down as the song begins to fade, standing in his corner in wait…

 

“Well King, in a Hardcore match there is no way to avoid a pinfall or submission!” Mak notes as the crowd awaits the other competitor. “No count outs, no disqualifications… hell, no rules at all, which is something this next man excels in, including last weeks show against the reigning International champ, Bruce Blank of all people!”

 

Then suddenly, “Hell” by Disturbed kicks up. The crowd waits in anticipation of the man who returned and kicked Bruce Blanks ass all over Aftershoxxx! Nothing fancy. Nothing excessive. And damn sure, nothing extravagant as twenty seconds later, Jacob Helmsley walks out of the curtain after the music kicks up with a slow stride, glaring at the ring in which his opponent sits. And what do you supposed the pro-Canada crowd does…

 

RRRRRRRGGGGAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!

 

They cheer.

 

“Dear God, I think I’m going to have to boo, Jake Helmsley…”

 

Jake soaks up the cheers from his home country and walks down the aisle, not surprised at all by the response, but as Funyon beings his introduction, the normally masked Helmsley takes off his head gear in salute to the fans…

 

“Making his way to the ring, from Calgary… Alberta, Canada, weighing in tonight at two hundred and twenty-seven pounds, he is… JACOB HEELLLLLLMMMMMMSSSSLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEYYYY!”

 

Jake rolls under the bottom rope and pops up to his feet, posing center ring with the pipe to another raucous cheer. “Look how big that pipe is… he probably smokes more crack than Bobby or Whitney!” King says, as Helmsley turns to each side of the ring, getting a bigger response each time and then just as the bells about to ring, Jake removes his coat-

 

CRACK!

 

Gabe Drake rushes forward and swings his chair overhead blasting Helmsley with a sick chair shot from behind!!

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

“Check that…” King starts, “After getting smoked like that with that chair, Jake probably felt the crack more than Whitney or Bobby ever did!”

 

“And as much as I hate to admit it… it is completely legal.”

 

Jake falls to the mat face first under the blow, letting go of his weapon of choice as he crashes to the canvas. Stalking his prey, Drake lines him up-

 

CRACK!

 

 

 

 

CRACK!

 

 

 

 

CRACK!

 

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

CRACK!

CRACK!

 

-Slamming the chair down across any part of Helmsley’s body that he can!!! Throwing the chair down with an emphatic expression on his face, Gabe drops on top of Helmsley for the cover…

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE…

 

 

 

…NO! Jake kicks out!!!!!!

 

“Still, no matter how legal it is, it’ll take more than that to put Jacob Helmsley away!”

 

Francis says, as Gabe stares a whole into the ref and then, getting to his feet, reaches down and picks the chair back up. “What’s he going to do now?” Mak questions, as Gabe walks over towards the corner and climbs through the ropes. “Uh-oh…”

 

Taking the chair up to the top rope, Drake raises it over his head, waiting for his opponent to get to his feet…

 

“Man is he going to brain the hell out of Jake!” King comments as the crowd tries to warn the fallen Canadian who is pushing himself up to his feet. “I still can’t believe he kicked-out of all those chair shots!”

 

Slowly… Jake begins to stands trying to shake the cobwebs out. He can hear the crowd in buzzes of comments, but nothing he can differentiate. Everything is fuzzy, but it’s about to get a whole lot fuzzier as he gets all the way to his feet and turns around! Drake leaps off the top and swings the hardware straight down-

 

 

CEEEEEERRRRRRRRAAAAAAACCCCCKKKKKKKK!

 

 

-Wrapping the DAMN chair around Jake’s head so that it hangs from his neck!!!!!

 

“He ain’t kicking out of that one though!”

 

“A Vile chair shot from off the top rope!” Mak says, as Drake stands over the slumping Helmsley, who seems to crumple to the canvas in slow motion. “It sounded like a goddamn gunshot!”

 

Drake just looks down at his opponent and then falls into a cover, while Long counts...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Funyon makes the call as Drake’s music kicks up…

 

“The winner of this match by pin-fall… ‘THE BEAST’… GABRIEL DRRRRAAAAAKKKKEEEE!”

 

“Well that’s it!” King crows as Gabe gets his hand raised and then exits the ring with a disgusted look on his face. “Genesis has clearly pissed this man off and I wouldn’t want to be the person in his sights!”

 

“All you have to do is watch the main event to see who he’s aiming for…”

 

Mak finishes, as we…

 

FADE…

[chirs3 0]

Backstage, Jay Hawke is standing in front of Joseph Peters' desk, and judging by the look on his face, he is clearly not happy.

 

Hawke: "Listen, Peters, the referee stopped the match at Genesis. Blank didn't beat me. He beat me up, sure, but he didn't beat me. I want a rematch, and I want it on Smarkdown."

 

Peters: "Jay, I sympathize with you, and trust me, you will get a rematch at some point. But the doctors are telling me you've got at least another three weeks before you can even get in the ring, and you know I can't simply give you an immediate rematch after that without the entire roster throwing a fit."

 

Hawke: "Look Peters!"

 

Peters: "No, you look, Jay! If I allow you to break doctor's orders and you permanently lose your hearing or something, it becomes my responsibility. And I won't have that on my conscience!'

 

At that, Jay Hawke's cloaked friend makes his appearance.

 

???: "If the man says he can compete, he can compete."

 

Peters: "I'm not going to be intimidated by...who are you, anyway?"

 

???: "The name's Nighthawk."

 

Peters: "Ah, I should have known. You and Jay were tag team partners in the Great Lakes region once upon a time, right? And that explains this contract I just had put on my desk stating you're a full-time SWF wrestler now. I wish my scouts would tell me things ahead of time. At any rate, Nighthawk, I will see you on Smarkdown when you make your SWF debut. And as for you, Jay..."

 

Hawke: "You know what, Peters? Save it. I'll see you in a few weeks."

 

Nighthawk: "And I'll see you Monday. And after you see me in the ring, you might want to give your scout a raise."

 

The former tag team partners storm out of the office, and Peters shakes his head.

 

Peters: "No wonder I go through a bottle of Excedrin every week."

[chirs3 0]

DING DING DING!!

 

Following commercials, the ringing of the time-keepers bell greets the viewers at home back to the show, while drawing the attention of those in live attendance to the ring, where Funyon waits. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he says. “Introducing first, in the following match scheduled for one fall…”

 

“Protect Ya Neck” by the Wu-Tang Clan hits and “The Divine Wind” Akira Kaibatsu strolls through the curtains, onto the stage. His reception at the Peace Arch doesn’t quite match the thunderous cheer he received during his last match in the Skydome, which is a little unsettling for Kaibatsu and THAT is evident by the expression on his face.

 

“It seems like the sheep are slowly starting to turn away from this loser,” King gleefully notes, almost snickering at the thought of it, “and you can’t really blame them. Hell, even as stupid as these so called fans are they know when someone is washed up.”

 

“Akira is a far cry from being washed up,” the ‘Franchise’ Mak Francis returns. “Everyone has a dry spell sometimes, but those that keep competing and trying are those who make it in the end.”

 

“From Sendai, Japan,” bellows Funyon, “and weighing in at one hundred-ninety five pounds; he is ‘THE DIVINE WIND’ AKIRAAAAAAAAA KAAAAAIBATSUUUUUUU!”

 

Kaibatsu heads to the ring and slides in, ready to finally win again and this couldn’t be a better time to win again. His music fades out and the theme to ‘Mission Impossible’ cues up, which generates a huge pop for the recently returned superstar. Finally, Johnny shoves aside the curtains on his way to the stage!

 

“AND HIS OPPONENT!” the announcer roars. “From Las Vegas, Nevada, and weighing in at two hundred-twenty pounds; he is JOHNNY ‘THE BARRAAAACUDAAAA’ DAAAAAAANGEROUS!”

 

Along with Johnny’s normal ring-attire--all black cargo-style pants with a form fitting black shirt—he also sports a pair of high-tech shades and a ear-piece, the new but somewhat unusual additions to his attire since returning. Johnny heads to the ring and slides in, climbs a corner ring post, and pumps his fist to the adoring fans.

 

“Man, these fans are still high on the Barracuda,” Mak observes. Johnny hops down from the post and is all smiles. That is until he realizes that he hops down right in front of his opponent, Akira Kaibatsu, and that smile fades into an expressionless face. It’s all business now and this is the part where his training as a special operative gives him an edge. He doesn’t move or say a word, instead he watches his opponent’s movements, eyes, and listens for anything irregular.

 

For Kaibatsu, the only thing he sees when looking into the Barracuda’s eyes is his own reflection in the lenses of Johnny’s sunglasses, and then the reflection of referee Ronald ‘Red’ Herrington as he pushes his way between the two men, separating them long enough to make a quick run down of the rules before he waves his arm at the timekeeper to ring the bell…

 

DING DING DING!!!

 

“Here we go!” sings Francis, as Johnny and Akira go from two men waiting to see who will jump first into a fast paced circling of each other and the Washington fans erupt! They only make one revolution before racing in and leaping towards each other – locking up like true gladiators, fighting for purchase! Akira pushes forward, momentarily overpowering his opponent until Johnny shifts gears, moving into an over-and-under lock up before quickly arching back and swinging Kaibatsu to the mat with a lateral toss! Johnny stays in position as Harrington drops for:

 

ONE!

 

And nothing more - the second Akira realizes he’s down he easily powers out, rolls back to his feet, and then stops.

 

“Whoa!” shouts Mak. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Johnny using THAT before – he might have picked up some technical skills in his time away.”

 

Not letting the pace of this match slow down for a beat, Kaibatsu quickly rushes back in for Dangerous, reaching for another tie up! Johnny moves to accept the offer, but it’s nothing more than a ploy by the Divine Wind and he quickly ducks under and goes behind Johnny, wrapping his arms around Dangerous’ waist, “-and it looks like Akira can be just as resourceful as the Barracuda!” shouts King as Kaibatsu tightens his grip around the Secret Agent’s waist. “He isn’t the only one who came prepared!”

 

However, Johnny smells the suplex coming a mile away so he sandbags before Akira has the chance to lift him while grabbing at the Divine Wind’s hands, desperately trying to pry them off his waistline. He pulls Akira’s arm away then spins out of his opponent’s grasp, reversing the situation as he winds up behind Kaibatsu, locking his hands around the former Cruiserweight Champion’s waist and…

 

CRACK!

 

… Akira fires off an elbow into the side of his opponent’s head, grabbing an “OOOOOH!” from the crowd! Dangerous stumbles back, stunned, with a hand to his head, and Akira gives chase, pulling Johnny’s hand away from his face before rocking him with a solid punch that sends Dangerous tumbling to the mat!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

 

“Open that fist up, Akira!” shouts the referee, jumping in front of the Divine Wind to remind him that tonight’s rules are going to be strictly enforced as this referee never bends!

 

“Aw, come on, ref!” growls King. “You’re blocking the path!”

 

Akira draws his arm back in response, growling at Harrington as he pushes past him and…

 

WHAM!

 

…Johnny springs off the mat and dives for Akira with a clothesline, flooring the Divine Wind on contact! He quickly floats over for the cover and the referee drops for:

 

ONE!

 

 

 

NO!! Akira kicks out just after the count of one, shoving Dangerous off of him as he does then climbs back to his feet. He charges after Johnny, ducking down in time to narrowly avoid a second lariat from the Barracuda, while reaching up to hook Dangerous’ arm and then the other as he places his back to Johnny’s before dropping to his knees and hauling the Secret Agent over him with a backslide!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TW-NOO!! Johnny thrusts his shoulder off the mat and rolls out of Kaibatsu’s backslide, popping back up to his feet. Akira trots forward, looking to boot the Barracuda in the gut as he spins around to face him, but Johnny quickly grabs the foot and in the blink of an eye slaps on an ankle lock!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!”

 

“There it is!” Mak excitedly shouts. “Johnny Dangerous has put many away with his submissions and this he just might have Akira in record time!”

 

Akira wails in horror as he scrambles for the nearby ropes, a tougher feat than normal with his leg caught between Johnny’s leg-scissor while cranking away on his ankle, but he’s close enough that he can grab them with one solid lunge and he does, getting the break called from the referee.

 

“Not much hope for a submission yet,” adds King. “If Johnny had got him closer to the center of the ring it could have very well been curtains for the Divine Wind!”

 

Akira pulls himself back up to his feet, noticeably angered by Johnny’s ankle lock, but before he can respond he finds himself on the receiving end of an Irish whip! Kaibatsu hits the ropes and bounces back towards the Barracuda as Johnny steps forward looking for a lariat…

 

WHOOSH!

 

…and Akira ducks down, his hair lightly grazing Johnny’s arm as he passes under him and makes his way towards the opposite ropes. Kaibatsu hits those ropes and springs back, leaping into the air with both feet as Dangerous spins around to face him…

 

NO! Johnny Dangerous is two steps ahead of his opponent tonight. Dangerous quickly bellies-out and rolls right under Akira’s drop kick, and when the Barracuda rolls to his feet, now behind Kaibatsu, there isn’t anything the Divine Wind can do when he spins back around-

 

*CRACK!*

 

-except take a Johnny Kick straight on!

 

“OH!” both announcers wince at the hit and the crowd responds with a thunderous cheer!

 

“Johnny Kick straight to the kisser!” shouts the Suicide King, and Akira falls to the mat like a freshly cut tree! Dangerous makes his way to the pin, drops to his knees, “-and this one is…wait a second!” shouts Francis, looking at something off camera. “Not this again!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

The cameras swing around in time to see Bruce Blank, in all his trailer park glory, barreling down the ramp like a mad man! Herrington tries to block Blank’s path into the ring, wanting to keep this match clean, but Bruce really don’t give a damn about this referees hopes or desires! Bruce shoves past Herrington and enters the ring!

 

“What the hell is he doing out here!? I thought Bruce Blank was supposed to be at home tonight!?” the Franchise shouts lividly as the crowd boos ferociously. When Bruce gets into the ring his surprise entrance is ruined. The referee’s attempt to keep Blank out gave the Barracuda enough time to at least get to his feet tonight. Johnny pivots on one foot and swings his foot out for a perfectly executed spinning heel kick. The only problem is that Bruce ducks it, and then viciously shoulders tackles Johnny while he’s still off balance!

 

*WHAM!*

 

“OH!” shouts King, “that was the shot heard ‘round the world!”

 

Bruce downs Johnny like a defensive lineman making the game winning stop, and then begins to pound the ever living snot out of the Barracuda’s face!

 

*WHAM!*

*WHAM!*

*WHAM!*

*WHAM!*

 

Once more Bruce’s shots draw blood. The difference this time is it doesn’t cost Johnny the match, instead Bruce’s involvements force the disqualification against Akira.

 

DING DING DING!!!

 

Herrington signals the end of the match then goes over to try and remove Bruce from Johnny, but Blank shoves the ref back and goes back to work on the Barracuda!

 

*WHAM!*

*WHAM!*

*WHAM!*

*WHAM!*

*WHAM!*

*WHAM!*

 

Finally, a team of security guards flank out from backstage and make a beeline for the ring, and this is when Blank gets off of Johnny. Blank knows that he got the Barracuda’s number once again, and the crowd chanting ‘WHITE TRASH!” at him just proves to him that it was a job well done…once again.

 

“Bruce Blank is just begging for Johnny Dangerous to meet him one on one,” says Mak. “When that happens, after all the crap Bruce has done to try and ruin Johnny’s return to the ring, I’m not sure I’d want to be in the ring with Dangerous.”

 

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of the beating Johnny’s going to get,” King adds. Mak just glares at his announcing partner.

 

“We have another match ruined,” says Francis. Hopefully, the rest of the night will have some cleaner results,” he says…as we:

 

 

 

 

 

 

FADE OUT.

[chirs3 0]

Location: The dark parkinglot back behind the outdoor setup

The reason we can see this?: Infrared cameras used for security purposes

People present: A very scared , very hurt Matt Myers

 

Myers is sneaking through the parkinglot, trying to get to his rental car so that he can get the hell out of dodge before the show is over. He stumbles along the cars, using them to keep himself on his feet as each step is filled with pain and anguish – pain and anguish that Nemesis has inflicted on him tonight.

 

Matt Myers: (quietly as he curses to himself) “a thousand dollars my ass, this isn’t worth any amount of money”

 

Myers stumbles through the parkinglot hoping to make a quiet getaway

 

¤BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPP¤ ¤BEEEEEEEEEEEEP¤ ¤BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPP¤

 

Myers must have set off a touch sensitive car alarm as the horn starts blaring and the lights flash on and off while Myers pleads with the car to be quiet. When pleading doesn’t work he grabs a rock, breaks the window in the car and then reaches in to turn the alarm off.

 

After holding his breath for a moment he looks around the parkinglot, did anyone hear him? Right now it was quiet so Myers suspects that he got away with it and starts to stumble towards his car, this time he takes care to not lean too hard on the cars he passes

 

Then he stops

 

Was that footsteps in the gravel he heard?

 

It’s simply too dark for Myers to see anything so instead of sitting tight he decides to make a break for it, running (well hobbling) towards his car.

 

¤CLICK¤

 

Myers finds himself bathed in light as he sets off one of the security devices by activating a motion sensor.

 

Now he definitely hears footsteps, hard and fast!!

 

Matt Myers: “Oh sweet Jesus!”

 

Myers hobbles towards his car, not caring if he sets of car alarms now. With each step the crunches on the gravel get louder, the breathing

 

THAT! breathing

 

Which gets closer as Myers fumbles with his keys. Myers reaches his car and salvation, only to almost pass out as he sees Nemesis’ face reflected in the window of the car. Myers unlocks the door and throws himself in then he slams the door shut and manages to lock the door a split second before Nemesis is able to put his giant hand on the handle

 

¤AAWWWWROAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!¤

 

The Colossus roars in frustration as he can’t get to Matt Myers, pounding his fists on the top of the roof (Tomorrow morning Hertz Rental will find 5 fist sized dents in the roof alone)

 

Matt Myers: “Please start, please start”

 

¤CLICK!¤

 

Matt Myers: “Oh you’ve got to be kidding me! Who’s heard of a Yugo not starting?”

 

Nemesis stares in through the window, his face pressed against the glass so hard that the horns on his mask are bent to the side and his breathing fogs up the glass every time he exhales. Myers turns the key once more but then stops when he to his terror feels the car moving

 

Not forwards but sidewards and at an angle

 

NEMESIS IS LIFTING THE CAR!!

 

The monster has a good grip under the right side of the car and is slowly but surely lifting the car up in the air until it’s tipped over onto it’s side

 

¤ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWLLL¤

 

A frustrated Nemesis pounds away at the car as he realizes that he can’t get to Matt Myers in his present location. At this point in time the guys in the control booth opt to turn to Mak and the Suicide King at ringside instead of this.

 

Mak and King both sit there, mouths open not sure if they really saw what they think they saw.

 

Mak: “What the hell is wrong with Nemesis?”

 

King: “I don’t know Mak, I just know that I wouldn’t want him pissed off at me”

 

Mak: “How long do you think he’ll keep pounding on that car?”

 

King: “Oh I’d say at least until after the Hardcore match giving Jimmy plenty of time to escape unharmed… well unharmed by Nemesis at least”

 

Mak: “Matt Myers can’t really say the same”

 

¤Fade out as Mak and King take a moment to compose themselves before the Hardcore Title Match¤

[chirs3 0]

Lockdown returns from a commercial for Danny Williams' Strong Style Ribs new Straight-Bread Barbecue Cup - "We take one of our succulent pulled pork barbecue sandwiches, remove the bread, and dump the meat into a plastic cup" and a coked up camera man pans around the crowd gathered around the Peace Arch. Sadly, there's more than a few hippies scattered in the audience, holding up pacifistic signs like "Make Peace, Not Headdrops", but they're getting roughed up by the wrestling fans as the camera stops in front of Mak Francis and the Suicide King.

 

"Welcome back to Lockdown, live from either Blaine, Washington, or Surrey, British Columbia, depending on which side of the arch you're on," Mak says. "We've already had some action that's sure to piss off our hosts, but it's about to get even more violent as two men fresh off big Genesis VII wins battle each other with the Hardcore title on the line. Jimmy the Doom, who not only retained the belt, but also his wife's life against the Crimson Skull, squares off against Landon Maddix, who surived in a steel cage against Gabriel Drake and made a daring escape."

 

"Oh, those two winners. I thought you were talking about Spike versus Toxxic where we'll all get to see Toxxic get a taste of his own neck-snapping medicine," King says. "You know, going back to Skull, I haven't seen him since he was taken away by paramedics after that vicious Russian Knife. Hell, I didn't even see Heff gorging on shrimp earlier tonight."

 

"Wait, there's shrimp?" Mak asks.

 

"Not when Heff's around."

 

As thrilling as Heff's dietary habits might be, there is a Hardcore title match at hand, so let's get to that. A tape of Disturbed's "The Game" is played on a giant ghetto blaster, and Megan Skye brushes past the hastily erected curtain outside the Sculpture Exhibit. Maddix follows soon after, resembling a mummy due to the gauze on his face. Landon steps over the ropes keeping the fans out of harm's way, and walks towards the center of the exhibit.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall and is the Smarks Wrestling Federation Hardcore title! Introducing, first, the challenger, being accompanied by Megan Skye, he is currently one half of the Tag Team champions. Hailing from Huron, South Dakota, by way of Madrid, Spain, he weighs in tonight at two hundred, twenty pounds, LAAAANDON 'LA CUCARRRRRRAAAAACHAAAAA' MMMAAAAAADDDIX!" Funyon booms.

 

Landon reaches the center, shrugs off his jacket, and unbuckles his title belt, handing both to Skye. Maddix turns to converse with referee Ced Ordonez as "The Game" is replaced with "Yakety Sax" on the same boombox. Jimmy the Doom walks out, looking battered as well, but his neon green foolscap hides some of his wounds. Directly behind the Hardcore champ is Lois the Unethical, holding Doom's belt in one hand and a large bag in the other, while a rope is lashed around her waist, connecting the Panic Ogre to her husband.

 

"It looks like Jimmy the Doom is taking extra care in making sure that Lois remains with him, but I don't think he'll be able to wrestle very well like that," Mak says.

 

"Like Doom wrestles well to begin with? Hey, wait a minute, where are the druids?" King asks.

 

"According to the United States Canada Peace Anniversary Association, druids are strictly forbidden from coming within five hundred yards of the Peace Arch," Mak explains. "Apparently, last time some druids were here, they tried to light it on fire and sacrifice some virgins on it."

 

"Those bastards!"

 

"And his opponent, being accompanied by Lois the Unethical. He is from Doomopolis, Doomtopia, and weighs two hundred, thirty pounds. He is the current Hardcore champion, the Straight-Bread Sensation, JJIIIIMMEEE THE DOOOOOM!" Funyon shouts.

 

Jimmy yanks off his hat and chucks it to the crowd, where absolutely nobody fights over it. Doom unties himself from Lois, and attaches his wife to a large pillar. The Unethical One doesn't seem to mind, though, as she takes a cube of wood out of her bag and begins carving her entry to the Sculpture Exhibit. Ordonez takes the Hardcore belt and shows it to the crowd before passing it on to Funyon and signalling for the bell.

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Doom doesn't waste a second and tags Maddix with a shotei to the face. Landon eats another palm thrust before charging forward and cracking Jimmy with a forearm to the jaw. The Straight-Breader takes a step back, providing 'La Cucaracha' with enough space to boot Doom in the belly. Jimmy doubles over and Landon takes him to the grass with a swinging neckbreaker. Maddix scrambles to his feet, spots a sculpture, and rushes to it. Landon tries to pick the extremely sharp and pointy 'Struggle I' up, but can barely budge the hunk of steel. As Maddix struggles with 'Struggle', Doom gets to his feet, stalks behind Landon and nails him with an axhandle, smashing the tag champ's face into the metal.

 

ACCRETION!

 

The Next Generation stumbles backwards, and Jimmy flips him to the mat with a hip toss. Doom sizes Maddix up and slams a knee into the back of Landon's head. Jimmy rolls 'La Cucaracha' over and makes a lateral press.

 

One-No!

 

"Kickout from Maddix, and this match isn't the best environment for these two to heal," Mak states.

 

"Well, Mak, that's why this is the Smarks Wrestling Federation, not the Smarks Pillow Fighting League," King says. "Shame that it folded."

 

Jimmy hauls Maddix off the ground and slings him into 'Struggle I'. Doom charges in after Landon and wraps him up with a bear hug. Ordonez goes to check on Maddix's condition, but the Next Generation buries a knee into Doom's groin, causing the Straight-Breader to release the hold. Maddix reaches up, grabs hold of a steel ring, and hauls himself off the ground. Landon braces his feet against the post of the sculpture and pushes off, snaring Doom with a facelock and dragging Jimmy down with a tornado DDT. 'La Cucaracha' rolls to his feet, pulls Jimmy off the ground and Irish whips Doom into 'Struggle I'. Landon races in and leaps, connecting with a dropsault that knocks the sculpture off balance and crashing down into the grass. Jimmy slides off and scrambles to his feet, only to eat a superkick from Maddix.

 

ACERBITY!

 

Doom lands atop 'Struggle I', ripping his shirt on an especially jagged portion. Jimmy scrambles to his feet, slips out of his Sharkasaurus tee and lunges towards Maddix. The Straight-Breader wraps the shirt around Landon's neck and hauls him towards 'In Unity We Soar'. Jimmy nails Landon with a knee to the gut before whipping him into the sculpture, knocking the flimsy aluminum structure over.

 

ACHENE!

 

Doom kicks Maddix away and picks up 'In Unity We Soar'. The Hardcore champ raises the symbol of cooperation above his head and brings it crashing down across Landon's back.

 

ACIDOSIS!

 

Jimmy lifts the piece once more and brains 'La Cucaracha' with it.

 

ACIDULOUS!

 

"Jimmy the Doom is taking Maddix to task with that joint effort of Canadian and American art students, and I have to imagine that they can't be very happy to see their work destroyed in such a violent fashion," Mak says.

 

"Maybe the loser kids, but I'm sure there are plenty of kids glad to see their hard work being used to batter Landon Maddix, and if not, their parents better disown them," King says.

 

Doom tosses the warped piece away and lifts Maddix to his feet. Jimmy attempts an Irish whip, but the Next Generation reverses it, sending the Straight-Bread Sensation into the tail of Charles Fitzgerald's 'Dove'.

 

ACONITE!

 

Jimmy tries to rise, but is directly under the sculpture, hitting his head once more on the tail.

 

ACYCLOVIR!

 

"Landon Maddix is getting help from a feathered friend as that steel dove is practically mauling Jimmy the Doom!" Mak shouts.

 

"That...I don't think such a sentence has ever been spoken before, nor will it ever be spoken again," King says.

 

The Doomtopian rolls away from the killer 'Dove' and staggers to his feet, only to get taken down by a dropsault from Maddix. Landon crawls on top of the Hardcore champ and makes a cover.

 

One!

 

 

 

 

T-No!

 

"Shoulder up from Doom, not surprising as it's still early in the match. However, I see that Jimmy is bleeding, but I'm not sure if it's wounds from Genesis, or new ones, inflicted by the dove," Mak says.

 

"You know, with the way this dove is kicking ass, I'd like to see it take on the former 'Iron Swan', Michael Cross," King says.

 

Landon pulls Jimmy to his feet and looks for a cravate, but Doom snakes a hand around and jabs Maddix in the throat. 'La Cucaracha' sputters and stumbles away, but the Straight-Breader doesn't allow him to get far, nailing Maddix with a shotei to the jaw. Jimmy cracks the Tag champ with another palm before whipping him into the hunk of wood called 'Primal Recession'. Doom races after Maddix and leaps, cracking Landon with a back elbow.

 

ADDUCE!

 

Jimmy turns Maddix around and slams his head into the cedar.

 

ADJUTANT!

 

Doom pulls Landon back and smashes him forward a second time.

 

ADUMBRATE!

 

The Straight-Bread Sensation pulls Maddix back for a third blow, but 'La Cucaracha' throws his hands against the wood. Doom tries to overpower Maddix, but the Next Generation's arms are braced firmly against 'Primal Recession'. Trusting his fate to one arm, Landon pulls his right arm back, blasting Jimmy with an elbow to the gut. Maddix fires off another elbow, then a third, and a fourth, which causes Jimmy to let go. Landon whips around, catching Jimmy flush with a forearm to the face. The Tag champ presses forward, unleashing forearms in rapid-fire succession, each one pushing the Doomtopian backwards.

 

"It looks like Maddix has caught a second wind and is on the offensive with a flurry of strikes. Perhaps not the brightest strategy to employ against a trained martial artist, especially one reknowned for his toughness like Doom, but it seems to be working," Mak says.

 

"I don't care what he does, so long as he doesn't embarass himself, the company, and legends like Tom Flesher by trying to use technical wrestling," King says.

 

Landon nails Jimmy with yet another forearm, spinning through it to snare the Straight-Breader in a cravate.

 

"God damn it," King groans.

 

The Next Generation cinches the chancre tight and races towards 'For Their Own Good'. Maddix plants his foot in the palm of the sculpture and flips, slamming the Doomtopian into the grass with Laberinto's Revenge.

 

AESTHETE!

 

Landon stays down, waiting for Ced to make the count.

 

One!

 

 

 

 

Two-No!

 

"Another kick out by Doom, and both men are getting pretty creative in using this environment to inflict damage on one another," Mak says.

 

"Well, it is pretty hard to fully utilize a giant bronze sculpture. It's not a chair or a baseball bat. Using these sculptures relies more on directing the opponent into the object, not the other way around," King says. "Hmm, maybe your mom could teach Jimmy and Landon about that. Lord knows she doesn't need directions finding objects, if you know what I'm saying, by which I mean penises."

 

Maddix picks Doom off the grass and sits him in 'For Their Own Good'. Landon backs up about ten feet, then runs forward, leaping in the air to yank the Straight-Bread Sensation to the ground with a Hurri-Lanrana. The Next Generation rises and hops into the stone palm. Maddix waits for the Hardcore champ to roll into position, then 'La Cucaracha' jumps, smashing his head into Jimmy's with a swandive headbutt (Luckily for Jimmy it's not a dovedive headbutt. You know, because of the dove sculpture earlier? No? Fine.).

 

AFFERENT!

 

"I take it back, that is a moronic strategy to use against Doom," Mak says.

 

"Considering some of the artists used Jimmy's skull to shape their works, that's an understatement," King says. "Another understatement would be that your mother sleeps around. Since, you know, she's a giant mega-whore."

 

"Jesus, King, I know you're trying to insult me or get me pissed off, but frankly, you are bad at this. Please stop," Francis says.

 

Landon drags Doom to his feet, but before Maddix can do anything else, Jimmy flips 'La Cucaracha' up and drops him with a scoop slam. The Straight-Bread Sensation takes a step back and crashes down on top of the Next Generation with a headbutt of his own. The Hardcore champ snares Landon's arms and stretches them out as he slams Maddix with another headbutt, then a third.

 

AGGLOMERATE!

 

AGGLUTINATE!

 

Jimmy smoothly transitions the barrage of headbutts into a pinning predicament.

 

One!

 

 

 

 

Two-No!

 

"Landon Maddix gets a shoulder up after he was shown the proper way to execute a headbutt. It mainly involves having a skull with a higher density than iridium," Mak says.

 

"Iridium? Damn near killed 'im!" King shouts.

 

"No, King, remember, you are very bad at this, and you should stop," Mak says.

 

"Yeah, the do need some work," King mutters.

 

"What the hell are you talking about?" Mak questions.

 

"I'm trying to develop some insult mad-libs, mainly for people, well, people like you with no personality to speak of. Just fill in the blanks and you'll have some top notch, Suicide King-approved insults, but this is just the prototype batch. If Edward James were still around, I could make a mint off him alone," King says.

 

The Straight-Bread Sensation pulls Maddix off the ground and slaps on a side headlock. Jimmy pops the Tag champ in the face in order to keep Landon cooperative, and Doom pulls 'La Cucaracha' towards 'Prosperity Portal'. Doom releases the headlock, but keeps a hold of Landon's hair, and Jimmy knees Maddix in the gut. Doom fires off another knee, this one to Landon's face, before grabbing the Next Generation's shorts and directing him head first through the spokes of the portal (Luckily for Maddix, he's not transported to another dimension, possibly with weird Egyptian stuff. You know, like StarGate. No? Fine.).

 

AGGRANDIZEMENT!

 

"Jimmy going back to the days of the Old West by tossing Maddix through that sculpture," Mak says.

 

"I'm all for Maddix getting roughed up Old West style, especially if it involves a cactus shoved up his ass," King says.

 

Doom pulls the remaining part of the sculpture off of Maddix and smashes it across his back.

 

AGUE!

 

The Straight-Breader lifts Landon up and smacks him with a shotei to the face. Jimmy fires off another, but Maddix explodes forward, trapping Doom's arm against his head and falling backwards, driving the Hardcore champ into the grass.

 

AIGRETTE!

 

"Maddix hits the Complete Shot, and that might be the counter he needs to take control of this match," Francis says.

 

"Man, where's Nemesis when you need him to just smush these two into loser paste?" King asks.

 

"Eatin' babies, maybe?" Mak responds.

 

"No, that's G0R0," King says.

 

Maddix pulls himself up and drags Jimmy up as well. Landon cracks Doom with a forearm before whipping him towards 'Southern Confluence'. The Straight-Bread Sensation slams into the piece back first and slumps down to one knee. Taking what's been put in front of him so graciously, Landon races towards the Doomtopian, plants his left foot, and drives his right knee into the Hardcore champion's face, knocking him through the sculpture.

 

ALACRITY!

 

"Shining Wizard! Landon might have just won himself the Hardcore title with that knee to the face," Mak says.

 

"At least this abomination will be over and we can all revel in Spike Jenkins breaking Toxxic's neck. Well, you probably won't like it, then again, you and Toxx can hang out and talk about new chair models and ramps and stuff," King says.

 

Landon brushes broken glass off his body, pulls Doom through the structure and makes a lateral press.

 

One!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thre-No!

 

"Shoulder up from Doom! I can't believe he kicked out!" the Franchise exclaims.

 

"Calm down, Francis. It's not like this has never happened before when it comes to Jimmy. I mean, yeah, if it were Toxxic, I'd be flipping out, too, but Doom could probably shrug off getting kicked in the head by a horse," King says.

 

Maddix begins to argue with Ordonez over the speed of the count, but stops mid-rant upon seeing Doom push himself off the grass. Still picking glass out of his face, Jimmy is caught off guard as Landon boots him in the face.

 

ALAR!

 

Jimmy flops over and Landon pounces, making a lateral press, this time hooking both of Doom's legs.

 

One!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Three-No!

 

"Another kickout from Jimmy the Doom, and he's really showing how much he wants to keep that Hardcore title," Mak says.

 

"I'm not so sure about that, Mak. Maybe he's just really dumb and doesn't know any better. I mean, you did say he was pretty dense, which I agree with one hundred percent," King says.

 

"I suppose saying his head is harder than aggregated diamond nanorods would be more appropriate," Mak says.

 

"How the hell do you know this stuff? It's the chair, right? Makes you some kinda cyborg encyclopedia," King says.

 

Landon hauls Doom off the ground and whips him towards 'Tree of Life', but it's only towards the sculpture and not into it. Cursing his poor aim, Maddix runs after Jimmy, only to have the Straight-Bread Sensation turn around and go to meet the Next Generation. The Doomtopian jumps and plants his right foot directly in Landon's face, knocking 'La Cucaracha' to the grass.

 

ALEATORY!

 

"Beautiful flying front kick by Jimmy, and I think it's safe to say that Doom is back in control of this match," Mak says.

 

"I'm surprised that Maddix held sway for as long as he did," King says.

 

Jimmy pulls Maddix up and knocks him into the limestone block with a double palm thrust. Doom knees Landon in the gut, doubling the Tag champ over, then Jimmy slaps on a side headlock and flips Maddix to the ground.

 

"Nice takedown from Doom, but he's got to go for some more high impact moves if he wants to put Maddix away any time soon," Mak says.

 

"Hey, you didn't call that correctly. Say the right name," King says.

 

"No, it was the correct call. The thing you're thinking of can only be done from the turnbuckles, so shut your dirty whore mouth," Francis says.

 

Doom lays out and makes a lateral press and Ced Ordonez drops to count it.

 

One!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Three-No!

 

"Shoulder up from Maddix, and, like I said, it's going to take a bit more to put 'La Cucaracha' away for the three count," Mak says.

 

"Maybe Jimmy can just push that sculpture on top of Landon, and then make the count," King says.

 

Even if he wanted to follow King's advice, Jimmy would be unable to, as this is a giant block of limestone, not some flimsy balsa wood totem pole. Instead, the Straight-Bread Sensation pulls Maddix to his feet and scoops 'La Cucaracha' onto his shoulder. Doom runs towards 'A "Pear" in Love' and rams the Next Generation into the bronze pear that's on top.

 

ALEMBIC!

 

Doom lets Landon slide down the sculpture before hauling him back up with a two handed choke. Jimmy lifts the Tag champ off his feet, smashes him into the pears again, then spins and drives Maddix into the ground.

 

ALLUVIUM!

 

"Jimmy Bomb, and this could seal it for the Hardcore champion," Mak says, taking care not to predict anything lest it come back to bite him in the ass, not that he'd be able to tell.

 

"God, I hope so. If I have to pick between Doom and Maddix as Hardcore champ, I'm going with Jimmy, if only because he doesn't talk and talk and talk like Landon does," King says.

 

Doom clambers to his feet, scampers to the top of the pears, and jumps, flipping forward to land on the Next Generation's head.

 

AMANUENSIS!

 

"Jimmy's Jump, and Doom connected with Landon's already battered head! That's got to be it!" Mak shouts, quickly forgetting his earlier prognosticating precaution.

 

"Don't forget that Jimmy's head isn't exactly ship shape, so he might not make a cover immediately," King says. "Aw, who am I kidding, it's Jimmy the Doom, his head's harder than those things you said earlier."

 

Doom stretches an arm across Landon's chest, and Ordonez slides down to count the pin.

 

One!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Three!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ced jumps to his feet and signals for the bell!

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, the winner and still Smarks Wrestling Federation Hardcore champion, the Straight-Bread Sensation, JIIIMMMEEEE THE DOOOOM!" Funyon hollers.

 

"And Doom does it with that flipping headbutt from the top of those bronze pears! What an amazing match, though I think there are going to be some very pissed off sculptors," Mak says.

 

"Those two fucking bronze pears, Mak, and yes, we'll no doubt be getting some letters, probably with demands of money to be paid. However, that doesn't concern me, mainly since I don't have to write the checks, but also because Spike Jenkins is going to snap Toxxic's neck like a twig!" King shouts gleefully.

 

The Doomtopian clambers up and rushes to find Lois, who's just finished her work, a wood carving of a baby duckie, which is immediately declared the winner of everything. "Yakety Sax" plays as the Straight-Breader unties his wife, gathers his title belt, and heads off to get drunk. Meanwhile, Megan Skye is trying to find her charge, and we'll leave her to it as Lockdown fades to commercial.

[chirs3 0]

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to the Peace Arch for our main event,” Mak Francis greets viewers as the show returns from commercial break. “It’s been over a year since these two men have met in the ring, and the last time they did Spike Jenkins gave Michael Stephens a frog splash through the Spanish announce table to win a Last Man Standing match. However, Stephens is currently unbeaten since his return to the SWF ring some four months ago and as a result now has three SWF titles to his name simultaneously, a feat unmatched by any other competitor in this company’s history.”

 

“Yeah yeah,” the Suicide King snorts, “you’re just hoping that Toxxic’s going to get some revenge on Spike for you.”

 

“I’d be lying if I said I was going to call this match objectively,” Francis concedes.

 

“You’d be telling the truth if you said you were going to call it objectionably, though.”

 

Before Francis can reply to the Gambling Man’s wisecrack there is the faint sound of a needle scratching over vinyl while all the floodlights in the area go to full. Then:

 

*BAM!*

 

The heavy drumming of Norma Jean’s ‘Creating Something Out Of Nothing, Only To Destroy It’ blasts out through the air of the Washington parkland, prompting a chorus of boos from the fans in attendance; moments later Norma Jean get their revenge as the vocals kick in:

 

‘Like bringing a knife to a gunfight…’

 

 

‘Like Bringing A Knife To A Gunfight…’

 

 

‘LIKE BRINGING A KNIFE TO A GUNFIGHT!’

 

The growl hits the crowd as white lights start to strobe around the entranceway, and a few seconds later Spike Jenkins walks out with a Mastodon hoodie on. The straight-edger drops to one knee with one arm falling to the floor, the other draped over his raised knee, then rises to his feet again and crosses his arms in front of him.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall under Cruiserweight Rules and is for the SWF Cruiserweight Championship,” Funyon booms. “Introducing first, the challenger; he hails from Hollywood, California and weighs in tonight at 220lbs… representing the Kingdom of Cambodia, this is the ‘New Straight-Edge Sensation’, ‘HOLLYWOOD’… SPIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKE… JEEEEEEEEEEN-KIIIIIIIINNNNNNSSSSSSSSS!!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Spike Jenkins made his position clear on AftershoxXx when he not only interrupted Michael Stephens, but then assaulted the champion in the ring,” Francis declares. “Stephens was left bleeding and Jenkins had to be removed by security. There’s no doubt that the two-time Cruiserweight Champion can be a formidable athlete when motivated, but he’s also an unbalanced dangerous individual, and… why isn’t he coming down to the ring?”

 

Sure enough, instead of approaching the ring Spike has crept over to one side and is standing next to the curtain the wrestlers enter through for this outdoor venue. The ‘backstage’ area is separated from the ring area by large portable barriers such as might be found around construction sites, and there is no way that anyone on the other side of the curtain could see Jenkins lying in wait.

 

“I think he’s laying a trap,” King surmises, “either that or he’s just forgotten where the ring is.”

 

Funyon looks puzzled in the ring, while referee Brian Warner yells at Spike to get down to the squared circle. Jenkins ignores him… and the music changes.

 

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

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

 

The rolling chant from the soccer terraces roars out across the open space, replaced a moment later by the crashing opening chord of ‘Rookie’ by Boy Sets Fire. The portable Smarktron swiftly fades down from a brilliant white to black, and as it does so jagged white letters flash up a familiar phrase, one word at a time:

 

‘PREPARE TO BE PROVED WRONG…’

 

Clips from matches start to flash up as the guitar riff starts, finally changing to a shot of Mike Van Siclen being taken off a balcony and through a table, 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 hammers out! And through the flame and smoke, with his trenchcoat on, the World Title in his right hand, a Tag Title in his left and the Cruiserweight Title around his waist, looking faintly surprised at the lack of the usual chanting of his old ring name comes the man formerly known as Toxxic…

 

…and suddenly the reason for the crowd’s abnormal reaction becomes clear, as Spike jumps him from behind and starts hammering forearms into his back!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Stephens staggers, clearly caught off-guard; he drops the title belts he was holding and SWF personnel dart it to grab them before a fan can decide he wants a unique souvenir and jumps the guardrail. Spike doesn’t let up, driving a knee into his opponent’s head and then pulling Stephens’ trenchcoat off before grabbing at the Cruiserweight Title and unbuckling it off the Englishman’s waist. Mike turns around to try and draw a bead on his attacker… and Jenkins drives the gold into his face for the second time in five days, levelling the champion!

 

*WHAM!*

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“…what are you hoping to prove!?” Francis roars at Jenkins as the Californian raises the title mockingly, then throws it to a nearby SWF staffer with instructions to ‘keep this safe for me’, “are you trying to become Sneak-Attack Champion or something?”

 

“Hey, whatever works,” King shrugs, “besides, it won’t be that easy for Spike. See, he may have knocked Michael Stephens clean out, but he’s still got to drag him to the ring and start the match in order to pin him. Have you ever tried to drag someone who’s knocked out, Mak? A lot of people just don’t understand the effort involved in what us cheaters do.”

 

Sure enough, although the World Champion has been busted open again and is barely moving, Spike Jenkins has a lot of work ahead of him. The challenger grabs Stephens’ arm and starts to pull, but he only moves the Englishman a foot or so before giving that up as a bad job. Meanwhile Brian Warner has come up from the ring to remonstrate with Jenkins, who now rounds on the referee and points out that he is trying to get his opponent in the ring so the match can start, but Stephens isn’t obliging.

 

“This is what Spike still needs to work on,” King remarks, “the execution was there, but the forward planning was lacking.”

 

Finally the Hollywood Superstar manages to raise Michael Stephens far enough to get him over his shoulders with a Fireman’s carry, then hurries down the entranceway before rolling the World and Cruiserweight Champion underneath the bottom ropes. Warner dives into the ring just as Spike follows his opponent, and the referee calls for the bell…

 

*DING-DING-DING!*

 

…before diving to count the cover that Spike’s making!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-

-but Stephens kicks out!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“I thought Spike Jenkins said on AftershoxXx that he wasn’t going to let the match end until he was ready,” Mak Francis comments as Spike starts to drag Stephens upright again, “I got the impression that he was planning on physically abusing Michael Stephens for quite some time, yet that early cover doesn’t indicate that.”

 

“I think that was the plan,” King agrees, “but come on - if you have the chance to beat Toxxic in three seconds for a title, aren’t you going to take it? That’s some serious bragging rights. Now that hasn’t worked out I confidently predict Spike to administer the beating we expected.”

 

Jenkins has managed to get Stephens more or less vertical and applies a front facelock before throwing Mike’s arm over his shoulders; he then grabs the Englishman by the waist of his baggy pants before hoisting Stephens up, turning to one side and bouncing the champion off the ropes, then falling backwards to complete the Slingshot Suplex!

 

*BANG!*

 

Spike pops back up to his feet almost immediately, then drags his boot heel across Stephens’ face and eyes!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Brian Warner takes understandable issue at Spike’s actions; Jenkins flips him off, then grabs Stephens hair and hauls the champion into a sitting position. From there he delivers a knife-edge chop to the back, then kicks Stephens in the chest to knock him back to the mat before bouncing off the ropes and hitting a kneedrop to Mike’s forehead, possibly seeking to widen the bleeding cut the Cruiserweight Title made a minute ago. The crowd are still unhappy with Jenkins’ actions, and things don’t change much when the challenger gets back to his feet and mockingly strikes his enemy’s signature pose; arms thrown out wide, palms flat to the floor!

 

“JEN-KINS SUCKS!”

 

“JEN-KINS SUCKS!”

 

Jenkins grins maliciously as the fans start chanting abuse at him, then bends down to grab his opponent by the hair again and bring him up to his feet. Brian Warner remonstrates and Spike ignores him, then Irish whips Stephens into the turnbuckles. The Englishman hits hard and Spike charges in after him to deliver a clothesline…

 

*WHAM!*

 

…then backs off, before charging in again to mash Stephens with another…

 

*WHAM!*

 

…and then one more!

 

*WHAM!*

 

Michael Stephens collapses down into the corner and Jenkins places his boot across his former leader’s throat, then starts choking for all he’s worth. Needless to say, Brian Warner doesn’t like this:

 

‘ONE!’

 

‘TWO!’

 

‘THREE!’

 

‘FOUR!’

 

‘FI-’

 

Spike draws his foot back at the last moment before he gets disqualified, then with a slick grin at Brian Warner he replaces his boot on Stephens’ face before scraaaaaaaaaaping it across the champion’s features!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Warner complains, Spike ignores him. And does it again.

 

“Spike Jenkins is paying absolutely no attention to Brian Warner right now,” Mak Francis declares, the disapproval audible in his tone, “I can understand the bad blood between him and Michael Stephens, but if he wants to have a chance to win this match he needs to stop doing things that will get him disqualified.”

 

“You’d love that,” King accuses his commentary partner.

 

“I’d prefer to see Stephens hand Spike his ass,” the Franchise concedes, “but in a pinch, yes.”

 

It seems Spike Jenkins has come to the same conclusion as Mak, as he backs away from his downed opponent to let the referee check on him. However appearances can be deceptive, as the moment Warner satisfies himself that Michael Stephens can continues and therefore backs away from the champion, Spike comes hurtling back across the ring to deliver a dropkick bootscrape to the Englishman!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Warner nearly has a fit, but Spike grabs Stephens and drags the semi-conscious triple champion towards the middle of the ring.

 

“It’s been all Spike Jenkins so far,” King declares happily.

 

“Wow, and he didn’t even have to sneak attack him to do it,” Mak says nastily.

 

“Hey, Toxxic turned Spike from a gormless little stoner into a vicious, cheating straight-edge bastard,” Suicide King reminds the Franchise, “he’s only got himself to blame. As ye sow, so shall ye reap.”

 

It seems that the reaper might be calling early for Michael Stephens tonight, as Spike drags his former leader into a standing headscissors, then reaches down to underhook the right arm… then the left…

 

“He’s going for the Endwell already?” Mak queries, “this could end it right here, if he hits it…”

 

…but it is not to be, as the moment Jenkins shifts his weight to begin the jump Stephens bridges backwards, flipping his former protégé overhead with a backdrop!

 

“YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“TOXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-IC…”

 

“TOXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-IC…”

 

Spike lands hard on his back and the breath is driven out of him; meanwhile Michael Stephens staggers and drops to one knee, the assaults so far taking their toll. However he didn’t become a triple champion without a nose for trouble and eyes virtually in the back of his head, so when Spike gets back to his feet and charges at him in an attempt to regain his momentum Stephens is able to slide to one side and extend his legs to take Spike down with a drop toehold!

 

“LET’S GO STE-PHENS!”

 

“LET’S GO STE-PHENS!”

 

Mike is clearly still rattled and needs time to collect his thoughts; accordingly he scrambles forwards, releasing his grip on Spike’s legs to grab a side headlock in an attempt to contain his opponent. Unfortunately for him Jenkins’ blood is up and he has no intention of being contained, and the Hollywood Superstar starts to prise Stephens’ arms loose. Once he has a couple of inches of breathing room Spike simply slides backwards, then comes up behind the startled Englishman and presses him down into the mat with a hammerlock applied; from there it’s a moment’s work to hop over Stephens’ back to his opponent’s left side, hook Mike’s left arm behind his head and apply a crossface hold!

 

“That’s the ¾ nelson crossface that Jenkins calls the Strong Island Stretch,” Mak calls, “it’s a thoroughly painful hold-”

 

“-and puts real pressure on the neck,” King notes with some interest. “Say Mak, do you reckon Spike has a target for this match?”

 

“Do you reckon I don’t want to talk about it?”

 

Michael Stephens doesn’t need Mak Francis to tell him it’s a thoroughly painful hold; he’s stuck in it, but working very hard on a way to not be stuck in it as soon as possible. This consists of clawing at the canvas with his free hand and pushing with both legs as hard as possible. It’s not a smooth movement across the mat but Spike isn’t that heavy, and slowly but surely Michael Stephens is making his way towards… the… ropes…

 

“He’s in the ropes!” Mak calls, “Spike needs to break the hold!”

 

‘ONE!’

 

‘TWO!’

 

‘THREE!’

 

‘FOUR!’

 

‘FI-’

 

Unsurprisingly, Spike didn’t agree. He does release before the disqualification mark, but doesn’t really respect the spirit of the rope break by instantly getting back to his feet, then grabbing Stephens and hauling him away from the ropes. Jenkins applies a rear waistlock and seems to be shaping up for a German suplex but Stephens wraps his right leg around Spike’s to block him, then lashes backwards with an elbow that catches Jenkins on the cheekbone and allows the Englishman to make a standing switch. Spike won’t be outdone though and prises Stephens’ hands apart before making a standing switch of his own to get them back where they started, then hoists to bring Mike off his feet… but Stephens throws all his weight forwards, and instead of being heaved overhead with a German suplex he manages to drag Spike down for a rolling clutch pin!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…and Spike kicks out! The World and Cruiserweight Champion is still a bit groggy and Jenkins recovers first, turning like a shark to grab Stephens in a cravate and shut down any thoughts his opponent may have had of a comeback; from this controlling hold Jenkins spins behind Stephens and grabs a hammerlock on his way, and from there he completes his circuit by spinning out to the front again and ducking his head before taking Stephens up on his shoulders for a Fireman’s carry. The Californian dumps Mike onto the mat, retaining control of the Englishman’s left arm as he does so, then performs a forward rolls across Stephens’ chest and takes the arm with him, forcing the champion onto his front as he does so. Once there Spike tucks the captured arm behind his head… and reapplies the Strong Island Stretch!

 

“Some good chain wrestling there by Jenkins,” Mak admits grudgingly as some of the crowd applaud despite themselves, “this is probably the big advantage he has over Stephens, and something he’s really worked on since their last meeting; my question would be, is Spike capable of controlling his emotions to stick to clinical wrestling or will he be looking for bigger hits and higher payoffs, which is an environment that Michael Stephens is so often capable of turning to his own advantage?”

 

“You’re assuming Toxxic’s ever going to get back into this match,” King sniffs.

 

Spike Jenkins is roaring with effort as he wrenches back on the Strong Island Stretch, putting as much pressure as possible onto his opponent’s vertebrae. However, skilful as the wrestling was to get Michael Stephens into this position it ended up with both men reasonably close to the ropes, and with salvation in sight Stephens is showing no sign of giving up. Instead he starts scrabbling again and begins inching forwards, stretching out with his free hand…

 

…Spike tries to improve his opponent’s view of the ceiling a little more…

 

…and Stephens gets to the ropes a second time!

 

‘ONE!’

 

‘TWO!’

 

‘THREE!’

 

‘FOUR!’

 

‘FI-’

 

Spike milks the hold for all it’s worth again, then releases and stands up. Once more, the Hollywood Superstar declines to give Michael Stephens any time to recover and instead kicks him insultingly in the head, then drags the Englishman to his feet before Irish whipping the champion to the far side of the ring. Spike ducks his head, perhaps looking for a back bodydrop… but he telegraphs it, and with desperation on his face Michael Stephens hits a facebuster onto his knee!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

It’s the move that would have initiated the Sobering Thought combo back in the days when Revolution Zero was an active force in the SWF, but these days the DDT follow-up doesn’t come and Spike rears up holding his face. However, that allows Mike to fire off a

 

RIGHT!

 

 

LEFT!

 

 

RIGHT!

 

 

LEFT!

 

 

Windup…

 

 

Spike knows the discus clothesline is coming and ducks…

 

 

…but Mike just kicks him in the face to bring him upright again, then hits it!

 

*WHAM!*

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“LET’S GO STE-PHENS!”

 

“LET’S GO STE-PHENS!”

 

Spike doesn’t like the way the match is going and rolls out of the ring to regroup; however Michael Stephens is starting to fire up now as the crowd begins to roar their support, and with no concern for his own safety the Triple Champion runs to the far side of the ring and bounces off the ropes, then accelerates across the squared circle before sailing over the top rope and coming down to crush Jenkins with a somersault senton!

 

*BANG!*

 

“HO-LY SHIT!”

 

“HO-LY SHIT!”

 

“HO-LY SHIT!”

 

The crowd are fully behind Stephens again, and the champion stands up - not without a wince - and crosses his arms in the straight-edge ‘X’, then throws them wide, palms flat in his signature pose…

 

*BOOOM!*

 

…and someone on the production crew figures this would be a great time to set the ringpost pyro off!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

Brian Warner resurfaces again, having ducked and covered in shock, and begins to make his count; however, Stephens is already rolling into the ring to apparently break it. The Englishman has other things on his mind that simply seeing if Spike will get counted out though, as he takes hold of the top rope and measures the distance to his opponent before vaulting over it, twisting in midair as he does so…

 

…landing on the second rope…

 

…then corkscrewing backwards to hit a Hangover legdrop onto his former stablemate!

 

“LET’S GO STE-PHENS!”

 

“LET’S GO STE-PHENS!”

 

“What agility!” Mak Francis yells, “Michael Stephens brings out the improvisation to show that no matter where you are in or out of the ring, he can get to you!”

 

The landing seems to have jarred Stephens’ hip a little, but the damage is greater to Spike Jenkins; now it is Mike’s turn to haul his opponent up and roll him under the bottom rope, then follow him in to make a cover…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…but Spike kicks out, still with plenty of energy left! Stephens sighs and sits Jenkins up, then seats himself behind the self-proclaimed King of Cambodia and threads his legs underneath Spike’s arms to lock in his seated double-leg nelson.

 

“This is sensible wrestling from the defending champion,” Mak notes, “he used high-impact offence to regain an advantage, but now he’s consolidating with a solid hold. It’s not a match-winner but it’ll let him catch his breath while still keeping the pressure on Jenkins.”

 

“He’s run out of ideas again,” King snorts, “one too many trips to the top rope; the air’s so thin up there you’re bound to suffer oxygen deprivation and damage your braincells.”

 

“Come on King, this is a very good idea,” Mak replies as Stephens applies more pressure, bending Jenkins forwards, “it’s a good hold…”

 

Stephens suddenly twists, rolling onto his front and bringing Jenkins over with him to pin the Californian’s shoulders to the mat…

 

“…plus he can do this with it!” Mak finishes as Warner dives to count…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…but Spike suddenly slams the soles of both feet down into Stephens’ back, crushing the Englishman’s bridge and driving his chest into the mat; at the same time Spike sits up, bringing his shoulder off the mat and allowing him to reach forward and grabs Mike’s wrists. Stephens’ legs are now trapped beneath Spike’s arms as surely as they were trapping Jenkins’s shoulders on the canvas a second ago, and the result is that Spike has turned a pinning predicament into a modification of a surfboard hold!

 

“Now that’s what I call wrestling,” King says with a smile, “what can your precious Toxxic dream up to counter that, Francis?”

 

The answer is fairly simple; Stephens wriggles to try and get a little more movement for his legs, then kicks Jenkins repeatedly in the face. He can’t get much of a swing on it, but it’s enough to unsettle Spike and make him release his hold. Jenkins and Stephens roll away from each other for a moment’s separation, then Spike comes to his feet and makes his way back towards his former leader in an effort to regain firm control of the match; Michael Stephens has other ideas however, and waits until Spike’s within striking distance before kipping up to his feet, then leaps into the air to deliver a stunning enzuigiri to his fellow straight-edger!

 

*CRACK!*

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“That’s such an important weapon in Michael Stephens’ arsenal,” Mak Francis comments, “he may look down and out but he can surprise anyone at any time!”

 

“Arsenal? What are you talking about?” King asks, confused, “Toxxic’s not from North London!”

 

As King confuses 90% of the viewing public with a soccer reference Mike grabs Jenkins by the head and hauls him upright; the champion sets Spike up as if for a hangman’s neckbreaker, but instead he twists around and sits out to drive Jenkins facefirst into the mat with the Pressure Drop!

 

*BANG!*

 

Stephens wastes no time in rolling Spike onto his back, then makes a cover…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…but Spike’s not giving up on the chance to become the SWF’s first three-time Cruiserweight Champion yet, and the Hollywood Superstar kicks out again! Mike casts a quick glance at Brian Warner but brings Jenkins up to his feet, then Irish whips his opponent into the ropes. As Spike rebounds Stephens steps smoothly to one side and brings his left arm up underneath Jenkins’, then grabs the waist of Spike’s shorts and hoists the Californian off the ground before sitting out to nail another facebuster!

 

*BANG!*

 

Stephens still has the half-nelson and uses it to roll Spike over, then makes another cover…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-

-but Spike kicks out one more time!

 

“Just look at the difference in approaches,” Mak comments, “Michael Stephens is taking every chance to make a cover, while Jenkins made one at the beginning and hasn’t bothered since then. It really does seem like Spike doesn’t want to end the match ‘until he’s ready’.”

 

Michael Stephens looks a little more questioningly at Brian Warner this time, but doesn’t argue too much and brings Spike up to his feet again. The Englishman grabs a ¾ facelock and turns to run for the nearest turnbuckles, towing Spike behind him… but Jenkins pushes him off and Mike collides chestfirst with the turnbuckles, then as he starts to turn Spike comes in behind him with a leaping Yakuza Kick!

 

*CRACK!*

 

“LET’S GO STE-PHENS!”

 

“LET’S GO STE-PHENS!”

 

The crowd try to galvanise their favourite again, but Stephens is slumped in the corner after that last shot from Spike. Spike himself takes a couple of seconds to catch his breath and clear some cobwebs brought on by the facebusters, then disentangles his foot from the top rope and grabs Stephens’ face in both hands. The Californian then places Mike’s cut forehead on the top rope and drags him right along it from one corner to the other, finishing off by ramming Stephens’ face into the top buckle as an exclamation point!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Stephens’ cut seems to have been opened wider, and Jenkins moves in like a shark smelling blood. He starts firing right hands at his opponent’s forehead, again and again, ignoring Brian Warner’s order to stop until the referee has to physically pull him away! Spike simply shoves Warner in the chest, then lunges back at Stephens and starts choking!

 

‘ONE!’

 

‘TWO!’

 

‘THREE!’

 

‘FOUR!’

 

‘FI-’

 

Spike breaks at the very last moment and Warner is screaming at him that he’s about to be disqualified if he puts one more foot out of line; Spike listens for a second, then reaches down and grabs Stephens around the waist. He hoists the champion off the canvas and takes a couple of steps backwards into the ring, then turns and falls backwards to drape his former leader throat-first across the top rope with a Hotshot!

 

“LET’S GO STE-PHENS!”

 

Stephens drops to the mat but is up again almost instantly, clutching his throat and wheezing; Spike measures him for a moment, then bursts into action and runs for the ropes, rebounding to lash out with his right arm and hit a massive LARIATOOOOOOOOOOOOO~!

 

*BANG!!*

 

Spike finds himself atop his opponent and covers instinctively…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“Spike Jenkins nearly won the title there,” Mak yells, “but don’t count Michael Stephens out yet!”

 

Spike seems to want to do just that though, and the Californian heads off to a corner of the ring and drops into a crouch. He slaps one shoulder a couple of times and waits. Mike starts to get to his feet, clearly woozy… and Spike explodes out of the corner, head lowered for a Spear-

 

*CRACK!*

 

-but Stephens hits him with a soccer tackle!

 

“LET’S GO STE-PHENS!”

 

Spike gets back to his feet, but he’s limping; Mike buries his boot into his opponent’s gut and applies a double underhook ready for the Stephens Shock Syndrome, the move that beat Spike in their first ever match… but Spike breaks the underhook and grabs Mike behind the knees, then pushes forward to dump Stephens onto his back! The New Straight-Edge Sensation takes a foot in each hand and leaps forward, coming down hard on his opponent’s chest with a vicious double stomp!

 

“That could have broken a rib,” Mak Francis notes, “and Spike’s looking to capitalise!”

 

Sure enough, Jenkins has grabbed Michael Stephens and hauled him upright. He returns the favour and places the Triple Champion in a standing headscissors, then applies the double underhook.

 

He’s ready.

 

However, instead of jumping into the air for the Endwell he hoists upwards, bringing Stephens off the mat and twisting as he does so to catch the champion across his shoulders…

 

“Spike, you bastard!” Mak yells.

 

Spike Jenkins grins as he feels Michael Stephens settle across his shoulders, in position for the Breaking Edge. He saw how Stephens countered the Burning Hammer against Tom Flesher and reaches up to grab both legs-

 

*WHAM!*

 

Spike staggers, and reaches up to grab bo-

 

*WHAM!*

 

-to grab-

 

*WHAM!*

 

The knee of Michael Stephens’ free leg slams into Spike’s temple one more time, and this time Jenkins can’t keep control of the weight above him. He staggers again and, just like against Flesher, Mike slips down behind. And, just like against Flesher, he grabs a rear naked choke on the way down.

 

However, unlike against Flesher, he doesn’t go for the bodyscissors. Instead he plants both feet on the mat and leans his head forward until his mouth is right next to Spike’s ear. A talented lipreader might be able to make out the words spoken.

 

‘…ready yet?’

 

Michael Stephens releases his grip with his right arm, instead threading it under Spike’s and clamping around his own wrist. Then he bridges backwards.

 

*BANG!*

 

“SLEEPER SUPLEX!” Mak yells, “I’ve never seen Mike throw one of those before, but that’s gotta be it!”

 

Spike Jenkins landed on the very top of his head. Stephens rolls his enemy onto his back, then makes the cover. He hooks the leg, to be sure.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

 

*DING-DING-DING!*

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner,” Funyon booms, “and STILL~ SWF Cruiserweight Champion… MIIIIIIIIIII-CHAEL… STEEEEEEEEEEEE-PHENS!!”

 

Michael Stephens wobbles upright, then gratefully receives all three title belts back from Brian Warner. He casts a look at Spike Jenkins, still down on the mat, then rolls under the bottom rope and out of the ring.

 

“What a match!” Mak Francis declares, “Spike Jenkins brought his A-game and so very nearly walked away with the gold, but in the end he overdid it; you’ve got to be very, very good indeed do something better than Tom Flesher, and Jenkins left himself with too much to do!”

 

“You’re overlooking the fact that this is the second match in a row that Toxxic’s thrown his ‘safe’ philosophy to the wind and dropped someone on their head,” Suicide King interjects, “the mask’s slipping, Mak!”

 

As he walks towards the backstage area Michael Stephens glances up and sees the Smarktron. It shows Brian Warner checking on Spike Jenkins, and the Californian responding groggily. Whatever the psychological damage of the loss, Spike can still move under his own power.

 

Michael Stephens’ face, as Lockdown goes off the air, shows neither relief nor anger. The steel-grey eyes simply study the image for a second, then flick away again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

FADE OUT

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

©2006

Raynmaker Productions for the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation

‘Raising Workrate By Typing Faster’

Edited September 28, 2006 by chirs3