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SWF Storm - 10-20-2006

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SWF Storm goes live in FIVE…

 

 

…FOUR…

 

 

…THREE…

 

 

…TWO…

 

 

…ONE…

 

 

*BANG! BANG! BANG! BOOOM! BANG! BUH-BUH-BUH-BOOOOM!!*

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“Fans, welcome to SWF Storm!” Mak Francis yells as the opening pyro finishes and Storm’s pounding generic rock music kicks up while the cameras sweep over the crowd, “we come to you off a truly electrifying Smarkdown in Wyoming, and tonight’s show promises to be just as exciting as-”

 

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

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

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“Oh come on now, that’s just rude!” the Suicide King objects as a brash, raucous soccer chant blasts out of the PA system moments before getting replaced by the crashing opening chord of ‘Rookie’ by Boy Sets Fire, “I’m contractually entitled to disagree with you at least once before anyone comes out!”

 

Jagged white letters flash up a slogan onto the Smarktron one word at a time, a slogan that might almost be aimed at the Suicide King:

‘PREPARE TO BE PROVED WRONG…’

 

“Well King,” Mak Francis says, “it seems that our World, Cruiserweight and Tag Team Champion doesn’t respect your contract!”

 

However, Michael Stephens doesn’t adhere to the drama of his usual entrance. Rather than waiting for his normal pyro burst and for the chants of the crowd to grow in volume, the Triple Champion instead strides out from the back and makes his way down to the ring with a definite air of a man with an agenda. Once at the squared circle he rolls under the bottom rope as usual, then beckons to Funyon for a microphone. The veteran ring announcer throws it to him and Stephens catches it one-handed, his Cruiserweight and Tag Titles in the other hand while the World title adorns his waist.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Stephens begins without preamble, “I apologise for hijacking the beginning of tonight’s entertainment, but I have something rather pressing I need to announce. You see, after the debacle that was Smarkdown’s main event I went hunting for Joe Peters to try and get him to book me into another match with Gabriel Drake, but he refused. Peters claimed that the schedules wouldn’t allow him to let us face each other again until Ashes 2 Ashes. I said that was fine by me,” the Englishman continues, “but he still wasn’t satisfied. ‘No’, he said, ‘it has to be a World Title match at a Pay-Per-View, and Drake isn’t a big enough name’. You hear me Gabe?” he says, apparently talking to the back, “Peters thinks you aren’t a big enough name to compete for the World Title on Pay-Per-View.”

 

“So anyway, I ask Peters what he has in mind, and he tells me that although Drake isn’t a big enough name on his own he can throw someone else into the mix. I agree to that as well, because to be honest with you all,” Stephens says, looking around at the crowd who rise and cheer as the steel-grey gaze touches them, “I’m sick of Gabe popping up and making a nuisance of himself. I just want to be rid of him. But you see, Joe had something up his sleeve. Joe Peters thinks of himself as an innovator. He can’t just settle for a simple Triple Threat match, no. He has to go one better, or preferably a few better. So Joe,” Stephens concludes, turning towards the back again, “I don’t know who you’ve got lined up, and I don’t know exactly what you’ve got in mind, but I know enough to blow your surprise right out of the water here at the top of the programme! So if you want to make the announcement yourself I suggest you get out here right now and let me, and all the good people here tonight,” he says, pointing out at the crowd with one black-painted fingernail…

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“…know exactly what it is you’ve got up your sleeve!”

 

The crowd buzz excitedly, clearly thrilled at the prospect of being present when something big is announced for the SWF. For a few second nothing happens; clearly Peters wasn’t expecting this challenge from his World Champion, and if the SWF Generalissimo is indeed going to put in an appearance it’ll take him a while to get out to the broadcast area.

 

“I’m telling you Mak,” King says quietly, “if this is another Lethal Lottery then I’m quitting.”

 

“Oh come on King, how bad can it be?” Francis asks with a grin.

 

“You weren’t around for the Lethal Lottery, were you?”

 

Finally something seems to be stirring; the lights flicker, and then ‘Ghetto Goggles’ by the Filthy Four kicks up to an overwhelming chorus of disinterest from the crowd. The music is followed by the only mildly more interesting form of one Joseph Peters, who stalks down to the ring with a microphone in his hand and a glower on his face.

 

“Stephens, I sometimes wonder why I bother keeping you around,” the SWF’s Head Boooker growls, “I don’t care how many buyrates you bring in, you’ve got to be more trouble than you’re worth. However, since you’ve essentially forced my hand on this then OK, I’ll make the announcement. Get the advertising machine rolling early, as it were.” He climbs into the ring, then turns to address the fans with the biggest shit-eating grin he can manage.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Fine, suit yourselves,” the Eminem-lookalike continues, sounding hurt. “It is my… pleasure… to announce the main event of Ashes 2 Ashes! For the first time in SWF history, the World Champion will defend his title against not one, not two, not three, not four, but five challengers!”

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“Been done,” King remarks, “Six-Pack Challenge Match. I was in it, you know.”

 

But Peters isn’t finished.

 

“…in the ELIMINATION CHAMBER!!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“WHAT!?” Mak Francis yelps, “the Elimination Chamber has come to the SWF!”

 

“Oh yes!” Peters shouts, living proof that even a tool can get a positive crowd response if his news is exciting enough, “we’ll be locking all six men inside a chamber of steel and chains! Two men will start the match, and the others will be released in turn! There will be no disqualifications, no count-outs - you are eliminated by being pinned or made to submit, and the last man will win the World Heavyweight Title!”

 

“TOXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-IC…”

 

“TOXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-IC…”

 

The chants favouring the current World Champion are already starting up; Peters casts a glare at Stephens, who just grins and shrugs. The SWF’s Head Booker raises his microphone again, determined to wipe the smile off the Englishman’s face.

 

“Who will the opponents be?” he asks rhetorically. “Well, one you already know. As Mr. Stephens already let slip, I have arranged for one of the challengers to be none other than ‘The Beast’, GABRIEL DRAKE!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Secondly, a wrestler who has come close to taking the World Title before now, a man whose name was synonymous with Cruiserweight greatness…”

 

Michael Stephens’ lips frame the letters ‘JJ?’, but Peters shakes his head curtly.

 

“…‘HOLLYWOOD’ SPIKE JENKINS!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Oh come on now!” Mak protests, “you’re not only locking him in there with the animal that completely lost it on Smarkdown and then attacked a referee, but the man who helped Drake attack Stephens and Zyon after their Cruiserweight Title match on Lockdown? Another of Michael Stephens’ old enemies?”

 

“You don’t get far in the business without making some enemies Francis,” King chides him, “and we all saw how Spike got cheated out of the Cruiserweight Title when he wrestled Toxxic for it!”

 

Michael Stephens did not look pleased with that announcement, but Joe Peters is far from finished.

 

“Thirdly, a man who single-handedly redefined a division of the SWF! A man who then went on to take his achievements to a new height and in a new direction - helped of course by the guidance of yours truly - and who became not only the greatest Ultraviolent Champion we’ve ever had, but also one of the greats of the International Division…”

 

Stephens knows where this one is going. He mouths the words along with Peters.

 

“…BRUCE BLANK!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“-and Blank as well,” Francis complains, “a man who Stephens defeated to retain the World Title a couple of months ago, and who lost the International belt to Johnny Dangerous last week! There won’t be any love lost between these two, and so far Peters has put three bloodthirsty men in the Chamber with the champion!”

 

“Toxxic had better worry more about losing his belt than his blood,” King notes, “a little blood can be replaced, but he won’t find it so easy to get a World Title transplant!”

 

“Now I can see that some of you might be getting a little depressed, maybe feeling that I’m being too hard on our champion,” Peters says with a smirk not only visible on his face but audible in his voice; “never fear! No, our fourth competitor is a firm favourite with the fans, a man whom Mr. Stephens has come up against a couple of times recently and has come out on top… so far…”

 

“…‘The Unique Youth’, ZYON!”

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“He’s right about one thing,” Mak notes, “Michael Stephens and Zyon have clashed a few times recently, with Stephens retaining first the World Title and then the Cruiserweight against his challenger; Zyon will have issues with Spike Jenkins and Gabriel Drake after their attack on him after Lockdown, but I’m willing to bet he wants to settle a score with the champion as well!”

 

“And why not?” King argues, “it’s the perfect arena for it!”

 

“And last, but not least, the final competitor,” Peters says, pausing for dramatic effect before turning to Michael Stephens. “Michael I suspect you’re feeling hard done by. I suspect you’re wondering why I’ve put you in the Elimination Chamber to face four such challengers, each one of which has their own, personal reasons for wanting to take your title. Well, fear not. I’m not an unfair man. In fact, I’ve decided to give you a little help.”

 

Michael Stephens’ face seems to betray a certain hint that he’s not absolutely convinced that all of what Joseph Peters is saying is true. In fact, the World Champion looks like he’d accept fairy gold over any promises that the Generalissimo is making.

 

“…so in order to help and support you in the Elimination Chamber,” Peters continues, “your final challenger…”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“…is none other than your own tag team partner, LANDON… ‘LA CUCARRRRRRRACHAAAAA… MAAAAAAAAAAD-DIIIIIIIIIIIIIX!!”

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

The roof nearly comes off the arena at that one. Some of the crowd are delighted; some cheer for the sake of cheering, or because it seems like the right time; some are incensed. The cameras quickly focus on a few people waving Cockroach signs.

 

Michael Stephens’ face doesn’t betray a thing, but the steel-grey eyes are staring at Joe Peters without blinking.

 

“Well there you have it Mike,” Peters says with mock cheerfulness, “you wanted me to spill the beans, and I have! It’s all out in the open now! You’re going into Ashes 2 Ashes into a chain cage where you’ve got to outlast Gabriel Drake, Zyon, Spike Jenkins, Bruce Blank and Landon Maddix to retain the World Title! The starting order will be decided entirely at random on the night, so none of you will get a chance for a gameplan! I hope you’re happy now you know what’s in store!” ‘Ghetto Goggles’ kicks up again and Peters exits the ring, then turns to head towards the back. However, before he’s gone very far he stops and turns around again, then signals for his music to be cut.

 

“Oh, one other thing I nearly forgot,” he says, smirking. “You remember when you came to me and said how you thought it wasn’t right that the Cruiserweight Title wasn’t going to be defended at Genesis, and I agreed with you? Well, it doesn’t seem right to me that it shouldn’t be defended at Ashes 2 Ashes either, so here’s what we’re going to do!”

 

“I don’t like the sound of this,” Mak murmurs.

 

“You’ve got three cruiserweights in the Chamber with you,” Peters tells Stephens, “Zyon, Spike Jenkins and Landon Maddix. If one of them should eliminate you, by pinfall or submission, then no matter what happens to him afterwards, and whether or not he wins the match overall… that man will become the Cruiserweight Champion!”

 

“WHAT!?” Francis yelps, “Joe Peters is not only putting Michael Stephens into this match against five of the fiercest competitors in the SWF, but both his singles titles are on the line! And how the hell did Landon Maddix end up in there? He and Stephens said they wouldn’t wrestle against each other again!”

 

“It’ll all come down to luck of the draw,” King says, “I mean, I don’t want Landon within a mile of the World Title, but theoretically unless they start against each other then either he or Stephens could get eliminated before the other one’s even released from his chamber! Then they wouldn’t have to wrestle each other at all!”

 

“King, I smell a damn conspiracy cooked up by Peters to get the World Title at least, and maybe the Cruiserweight Title too, off Michael Stephens,” Mak Francis says stoutly. “Fans, we have to take a commercial break now, but we’ll be right back!”

 

The last shot before Storm goes temporarily off the air is of Michael Stephens in the ring, three title belts in hand, glaring up the ramp at Joseph Peters.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

FADE OUT

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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
SWF
STORM

Live, Friday, October 20th, from the World Arena in Colorado Springs, Colorado!
(7pm PST, 10pm EST; check local listings)

cc_outside.jpg

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

Hawk'n'Hawke (Jay Hawke and Nighthawk) vs. Alan Clark and Jacob Helmsley
-> Now that Nighthawk has gone through the necessary singles warmups, it's time we started pumping some life into the tag team division! Michael Stephens will be defending his World Championship at Ashes to Ashes, so we need to get TSWG some Tag Team Contenders for Smarkdown. One of the teams Joseph Peters has had his eye on is the Hawk/Hawke pairing - of course, they are not truly a team until they've taken on a humiliating nickname, but I guess that can wait.
Rules: Standard tag team match.

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

Johnny Dangerous © vs. Nemesis
-> Peters was all too eager to put Johnny's "I'll take two guys on by myself if I have to" statement to the test - unfortunately, the the Weapons of Mass Destruction are one WMD short, as Bruce Blank has taken some time off. So the numbers won't be against Johnny tonight, but that doesn't mean he can take this match lightly!
Rules: Standard singles match.

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

Devin Benson vs. Ultimo Phantasmo
-> I haven't used BIG BATTEL~ in a description in a while, so here you go. Devin Benson and Ultimo Phantasmo do BIG BATTEL~. And we'll see if we can't get the winner a little something special for their troubles, if you know what I mean. Perhaps a bump in the Cruiserweight rankings?
Rules: Standard, with Cruiser addenda - outside count goes to 20, no throwing opponents over the top rope.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Edited by chirs3

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Francis: "And we are just about ready for the huge main event that is sure to bring about a tremendous shift in the tag team rankings. Nighthawk and Jay Hawke team up for the first time in an SWF ring to take on Jacob Helmsley and Alan Clark."

 

King: "Get it right, Mak. The Predators might be teaming for the first time in the SWF, but they've got more experience in tag team wrestling than just about every team in the sport. This should be a cakewalk for them."

 

Francis: "Well, both men have struggled in recent singles outings, and this is Hawke's first appearance in the ring since being beaten bloody by Bruce Blank at Genesis VII. How does that, combined with a long layoff as a team, play into tonight's match?"

 

King: "I look at it this way. Tag team wrestling is a lot like riding a bike. Once you're experienced at it, you pick it up again like that. Then you factor in the less experienced team of Helmsley and Clark ... hey, this is going to be a great match, but I can't see anyone but the Predators coming out on top."

 

Francis: "You seem sure of that."

 

King: "That comes from years of wrestling and more years of watching wrestling."

 

Francis: "The winners are sure to be in line for a title shot, but with that, we go up to Funyon for the introductions."

 

Funyon: "Ladies and gentlemen, the following tag team contest is scheduled for one fall with a one hour time limit!"

 

The lights completely go out in the arena, and after a few seconds, a lightning strike comes out from each end of the stage at the top of the ramp. With that, a spotlight shines on the stage, showing Nighthawk, Jay Hawke, and the lovely Falcon in all their resplendent glory.

 

Funyon: "Introducing first ... accompanied to the ring by Falcon and at a total combined weight of 515 pounds ... here are Nighthawk and 'The Dean of Professional Wrestling' Jay Hawke ... THE PREDATORS!"

 

The team makes their way to the ring, the spotlight shining on them the whole way, although the crowd boos them like hell as marks are wont to do toward heels.

 

Francis: "These two men are certainly not liked by this crowd in Colorado."

 

King: "That's because they got fed a steady diet of Dick the Bruiser and The Crusher vs. The Vachons for all those years. They don't know what good tag team wrestling looks like."

 

"When You Wish Upon A Star" comes over the PA. The lights go out, and the following echoes from the loudspeakers…

 

“Please Stand Clear of the Ring. Por favor Soporte Claro del Anillo….

 

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

 

A spotlights hits the entranceway just as the music begins to play, revealing Alan Clark to the world, cheery and smiling as best he can with Walter Reynolds in tow. The duo comes to the ring with pixie dust falling from the ceiling as Funyon makes his announcement…

 

“Coming to the ring at this time…being accompanied by Walter Reynolds… he is the self-proclaimed and copyrighted Happiest Guy On Earth… ALAAAAAAAAN CLAAAAAAAARK!!”

 

After high-fiving a few ringside fans, Alan slides under the bottom rope and into the ring as Walter takes his place at ringside, leaving the music to fade out as Clark stands and waits for his partner.

 

King: "I have to ask, how did this guy ever become popular?"

 

Francis: "Because he's the happiest guy on Earth."

 

King: "Is he sleeping with Mandy Moore? No? How happy can he be?"

 

At that moment, "Hell" by Disturbed comes on the PA.

 

Funyon: "And his tag team partner ... from Calgary, Alberta, Canada, and weighing in at 227 pounds ... JACOB HELMSLEY!"

 

About 20 seconds after the music began, Helmsley walks out to a solid pop from the crowd, as much because he's teaming with Alan Clark than anything he's done recently.

 

King: "Colorado crowds baffle me. Moreso than even Toronto crowds, and that's saying something."

 

Francis: "Well, fan reactions don't win matches. Pinfalls and submissions do. And these two teams are going to give it their all to try to secure a victory here."

 

DING DING DING!

 

At the sound of the bell, Alan Clark is quick to step into the ring ... in fact, he's happy about it. On the other side of the ring, Nighthawk and Jay Hawke count to three. Nighthawk holds out a fist, Jay Hawke's hand is flat, and since paper beats rock, Nighthawk steps onto the ring apron.

 

Francis: "And it looks as though Jay Hawke and Alan Clark will start things off here."

 

King: "You gathered all that by yourself? Very impressive."

 

After a brief feeling out process, Hawke and Clark lock up. Hawke grabs a hold of Clark's left arm and spins into a hammerlock, but Clark continues to spin with the momentum, hooks his arm underneath Hawke's, and quickly takes him over with an armdrag takedown. Hawke nods, making his way to his knees, then back to his feet. They lock up again, and Hawke drives a knee into Clark's midsection. Jay Hawke sets up Clark for a suplex, but Alan Clark uses one foot to block it, then quickly snaps Hawke over with a suplex of his own. With a smile wider than Debbie's vagina when she did Dallas, he makes a tag to Jacob Helmsley.

 

Francis: "And so far it's Alan Clark with an answer to Hawke's offense, and I have to admit I expected things the other way around at first."

 

King: "Yeah, but it's early. Let's see if Helmsley has the same kind of luck against Hawke."

 

The two legal men lock up. The Dean of Wrestling locks in a side headlock. He grinds on it, and Helmsley pushes Hawke off of him and into the ropes. Hawke rebounds off with a shoulder tackle, then runs into the ropes as Helmsley returns to his feet. Hawke goes for a clothesline, but Jacob ducks underneath it. Hawke stops and spins around, right into a bearhug by his opponent, who quickly turns it into a belly-to-belly suplex. Helmsley quickly goes for the cover:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

Kickout.

 

Francis: "And it's Helmsley getting a quick near fall on the former International Champion, and I wonder if he's really got things under control or not. He might still be wonky from the beating he took from Bruce Blank back at Genesis."

 

Jacob Helmsley moves in on Hawke, but Hawke rolls over to his corner and tags in Nighthawk.

 

King: "Maybe, but let's see what these two men can do when the big guy's in there."

 

Not much, at least not at first. Jacob Helmsley moves in with a couple of quick forearm strikes as his opponent moves in, but the man from Hawk Mountain, Pennsylvania turns the tide with a quick poke to the eye. He quickly grabs Helmsley's arm and pulls him in, leveling him with a lariat that has Jacob's eyes rolling into the back of his head.

 

King: "Wow. With the proper trajectory, Jacob Helmsley's head could have flown from Colorado Springs to Denver."

 

As Nighthawk stares down at his fallen opponent, Alan Clark moves in and pulls Helmsley toward the corner. Nighthawk looks at him, almost daring Clark to tag in, and the Happiest Guy on Earth is only too happy to oblige.

 

King: "Wow, Alan Clark must have a death wish."

 

Maybe, maybe not. But he's quick to fire off a series of forearm smashes into the side of Nighthawk's head anyway. He runs off the ropes and hits a dropkick, staggering Nighthawk. He runs off the ropes again, this time going for a clothesline, but Nighthawk ducks it. As Clark hits the other side of the ropes, Jay Hawke levels him with a roundhouse kick to the head from behind, and Alan staggers into a thundrous lariat from Nighthawk.

 

Francis: "My God! Did you see the force behind that tremendous clothesline?"

 

King: "And now you're going to see exactly what makes The Predators such a dangerous team!"

 

Nighthawk quickly tags out to Jay Hawke, then quickly pulls Alan Clark to his feet. Hawke enters the ring and locks in a tight waistlock, and Nighthawk takes a couple of steps backwards and levels him with a superkick. Instantaneously, Jay Hawke takes Alan Clark over with a picture-perfect German suplex, and Nighthawk makes his way to the apron as the referee slides in for the count:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

Kickout. Jay Hawke immediately tags right back out to Nighthawk. Hawke whips Clark into the ropes, and Nighthawk enters the ring just in time for the Predators to take Alan down with a double clothesline that sends him into convulsions on the mat. Nighthawk covers as Hawke exits:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

Kickout.

 

King: "Pinpoint precision by The Predators."

 

Nighthawk tags Jay Hawke back in.

 

King: "Quick tags, effective teamwork, quick covers."

 

Nighthawk pulls Clark to his feet and doubles him over with a knee to the midsection. He leaves the ring, and Jay Hawke moves in, taking the famous Disney representative down with a swinging neckbreaker. Hawke goes for another cover:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

Jacob Helmsley enters the ring and breaks up the pin with a stomp to the back of the head.

 

Francis: "And Helmsley had about enough of that, King. He's in there to make the save."

 

King: "But as Hawke tags Nighthawk in yet again, what can Alan Clark possibly withstand from this onslaught?"

 

The Predators each lock Alan Clark in a font facelock, then lift him high into the air, holding him upside down to for the blood to rush to his head. After a few seconds, they fall backwards, jarring Clark's body on the mat with a double delayed vertical suplex. Nighthawk goes for the pin yet again as Jay Hawke leaves the ring:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THR -- kickout.

 

King: "You know, I seriously expect Disney to drop their endorsement from Alan Clark if this keeps up. Why have a loser as a role model for the kids?"

 

Nighthawk once again pulls Clark to his feet. He whips Clark into the ropes, then lifts him into the air before dropping him with a thundrous spinebuster slam. He then reaches over and tags in Jay Hawke.

 

Francis: "Another quick tag, and you have to admit this Predators team is one well-oiled machine out there."

 

As Hawke moves in, he sets Clark into a standing headscissors, presumably for a piledriver. Somehow Clark summons up the energy kick his legs and block the move, then to lift Hawke up by his legs and slam him down to the mat.

 

Francis: "The Illuminator! Clark managing to get one big move in on Hawke, and now he needs to make the tag!"

 

King: "How can he? He's bounced around on that mat more in the last three minutes than some basketballs do in 48 minutes!"

 

Clark slowly begins crawling over to his corner, unaware that Hawke has already tagged in Nighthawk, who comes in and drops an elbow across Clark's back to prevent the tag.

 

King: "And there's Nighthawk to ruin the dreams of all these fans."

 

Alan Clark once again tries to reach for the tag, but Nighthawk hooks him into a rear headlock and falls straight down.

 

Francis: "Inverted DDT, and there's another cover!"

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

Jacob Helmsley again makes the save before returning to the ring apron. Nighthawk quickly tags in Jay Hawke, who locks in another front facelock, this time tightening it to further wear his now-weary opponent down.

 

Francis: "And now Hawke applying pressure to the head and neck. What a tremendous job The Predators have done of isolating Alan Clark."

 

King: "And the beautiful thing is there's only so much Clark can do to fight back. He can't use weapons, and I doubt he even wants his partner getting involved."

 

With the will of the crowd giving him strength, Alan Clark is quickly making his way to the corner. He reaches for the tag, but Nighthawk is quickly into the ring to distract the referee. Clark does tag Helmsley, and Helmsley fires a couple for forearms to Hawke's head before the referee turns around and tries to send Helmsley back into the corner despite the protests of the crowd.

 

Francis: "Come on, he made the tag!"

 

King: "But Matthew Kivell didn't see it, and he can only call it if he sees it!"

 

As the referee continues to try to get Helmsley into the corner, Nighthawk heads into the ring and joins in on the headlock, leading to a quick double DDT that, despite the smile on Clark's face, has his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Hawke rolls out of the ring, and Nighthawk, despite not being tagged, is the legal man in Matthew Kivell's eyes when he turns around.

 

Francis: "And that time there was no tag!"

 

King: "They got away with it!"

 

Nighthawk picks up Alan Clark and places him on the top rope. He turns and spits at Jacob Helmsley, then starts climbing the turnbuckle himself. Angry, Helmsley hops off the apron and grabs his trusty lead pipe off the timekeeper's table.

 

King: "Hey!"

 

Nighthawk hooks up Alan Clark, seemingly for the Power Dive, but Helmsley quickly enters the ring and makes a beeline for the corner, leveling Nighthawk in the back with the pipe. The referee quickly signals for the bell:

 

 

DING DING DING!

 

 

Helmsley gets a few more shots in on Nighthawk before Jay Hawke enters the ring. Helmsley swings at Hawke but misses, and security is quick to enter the ring and tackle Helmsley before he can continue the assault.

 

Francis: "Helmsley lost control of his faculties there, King, and judging from the bell, it looks as though it cost him the match. Let's go to Funyon for the official word."

 

Funyon: "Ladies and gentlemen, the winners of this match, as a result of a disqualification ... THE PREDATORS!"

 

Nighthawk clutches at his back but smiles at the decision.

 

King: "Well, Clark can't be happy that his partner resorted to using that weapon, and I don't know if Disney's happy with Clark for teaming with a guy that would use a weapon, but the bottom line here is that The Predators were able to get the victory."

 

Francis: "And that win should put them in line for a title opportunity. But we are desperately running out of time, so have a good night everybody!"

 

©2006 Smarks Wrestling Federation

All Rights Reserved

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