chirs3 0 Report post Posted December 1, 2006 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SWF LOCKDOWN Live, Thursday, November 30th, from The Albuquerque Convention Center in Albuquerque, New Mexico! (7pm PST, 10pm EST; check local listings) (Send all promos/marked matches to chirs3) -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- THE MAIN EVENT - SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH Michael Stephens ©© vs. "The Dean of Professional Wrestling" Jay Hawke -> In the words of Joseph Peters: ARGH~! What was supposed to be a two-on-one mugging of the World Champion actually turned out in Stephens' favor, and the hopes that his momentum would be stopped cold have been dashed! Now fresh off a win over two of the SWF's Top Talents, our World Champion's looking pretty damn good heading into this highly publicized midterm defense, against The Dean of Professional Wrestling, Jay Hawke! Then again, if there's ever a man not to take lightly, it's Jay Hawke - especially considering his huge singles win over Tom Flesher at Ashes 2 Ashes! Rules: Standard singles match. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- COLD FRONT CLASSIC - SECOND ROUND MATCH "The Superior One" Tom Flesher vs. "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins -> These two failed to destroy Michael Stephens as planned, but in order to progress into the finals of the Cold Front Classic, one of these two will have to destroy the other! Tonight, two of the SWF's finest for a chance to fight the champ, whoever he may be, at the Clusterfuck! Rules: Standard singles match. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- FULL METAL MAYHEM (non-title) JJ Johnson vs. Jimmy the Doom © GUEST REFEREE: Landon Maddix © -> Someone must have slipped this by Peters when he wasn't looking - or maybe he was looking, and just didn't read it. That's how most of his paperwork gets done. In any event, Johnson and Landon are poised to meet next show for the second round Cold Front Classic match - I wonder what kind of liberties Landon might take, just a few days before their match. Especially when Johnson is up against a man as unpredictable as Jimmy the Doom, and in a match like Full Metal Mayhem! Rules: Any metal weapons are legal - anything else is grounds for Disqualification. No countouts, pinfalls count anywhere. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- TAG TEAM MATCH Team ZyKira (Zyon © and Akira Kaibatsu ©) vs. Team CroNson (Michael Cross and Devin Benson) -> I just wanted an excuse to use "Team CroNson". Sounds funny. But seriously forks, it turns out the naysayers may have been right about ZyKira's momentum, but one match isn't enough to prove anything! They get a second chance in the tag realm tonight, against the formidable team of Michael Cross and Devin Benson! Rules: Standard tag team match. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- CRAB BATT- I MEAN, HAWK BATTLE Nighthawk vs. Trent Hawk -> I'll see to it that the winner of this match gets a little something special. So write damn you, write! Rules: Standard singles match. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
chirs3 0 Report post Posted December 1, 2006 Francis: Hello everyone and welcome to another edition of SWF Lockdown. We are here, live from The Albuquerque Convention Center in Albuquerque, New Mexico! King: I guess that is better then being here dead from The Albuquerque Convention Center in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Francis: It’s going to be one of those nights isn’t it? Ah don’t answer that. Fans we have a great card for you this evening including the second round match of the cold front classic between "The Superior One" Tom Flesher and "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins. King: Not to mention our main event between the SWF World Heavyweight Champion Michael Stephens taking on a very dangerous opponent in the "The Dean of Professional Wrestling" himself, Jay Hawke The Lights go dim and a gold spotlight shines on the stage. Francis: Plus we have many other great matches but it looks like our first contest is about to begin. On the stage Trent Hawk looks around at the crowd as “The Cult of Personality” by Living Colour plays over the speakers. Hawk makes his way down to the ring as Pyro arch over the ramp behind him. Hawk slides into the ring under the ropes. Funyon: Ladies and Gentleman our first contest is schedule for one fall. Introducing first hailing from Hollywood California. He weights in at 246 pounds. He is TRENT HAWK!!! The lights go down again. A cold breeze bits through the arena. Lightning streaks across the arena roof. “Learning to Fly” by Pink Floyd begins to play as two lighting bolts streak from the roof and slam into the stage. The stage erupts in flames as the flames begin to diminish we see the figure of Nighthawk standing in the center of the flames. His arms crossed against his chest. His steel talon gloves reflecting the firelight. Once the flames die out Nighthawk begins to make his way to the ring and his manager Falcon follows slowly behind him. Funyon: And being led to the ring by his Manager Falcon. Hailing from Hawk Mountain Pennsylvania. He weighs in at 285 pounds. He is known as NIGHTHAWK!!! Francis: Here we go. Our first match is set and we are ready for action. Ding Ding Ding. Both men walk to the center of the ring and stare down each other. Trent Hawk begins to jaw a little bit. Nighthawk as is his way remains quiet Just locking eyes with Hawk. Hawk pushes Nighthawk but Nighthawk barely moves. Hawk pushes him again and again Nighthawk hardly moves. Hawks pulls back again and connects with a big right hand that staggers Nighthawk. Hawk quickly follows with another and another as Nighthawk staggers backwards toward the ropes. Hawk whips Nighthawk into the ropes Nighthawk reverses it and catches Hawk with a big back flip. Nighthawk waits for Hawk to rise to his feet. And then hits Hawk with a devastating Clothesline. Francis: Nighthawk off to a quick start. King: It looks to me like he might be tired of playing games. Nighthawk pulls Hawk to his feet. He whips Hawk into the ropes Hawks slides underneath Nighthawk and pops up behind him. As Nighthawk turns around Hawk catches him with a Superkick. Nighthawk quickly hits the mat. Hawk walks over to Nighthawk and stomps his knee several times in rapid succession. Francis: Hawk working on Nighthawk knee. Not a bad idea against a power wrestler like Nighthawk. King; Not to mention that is where Nighthawk is weakest. He has had a history of knee injuries in the past. It was the main reason he retired in the first place. Hawk drags Nighthawk over to the ropes and places his right leg on the ropes. Then Hawk jumps up and lands on Nighthawks knee. Nighthawk sits up in pain and grabs for the knee but Hawk lands a big right hand to Nighthawk head. Nighthawk is again lying on the mat. Hawk again jumps and lands on Nighthawk knee. Francis: A mans leg was not meant to bend like that. Nighthawk is trying to crawl across the ring away from Hawk. Hawk follows and helps pull Nighthawk to his feet in the corner. Hawk takes Nighthawks leg and puts it over the middle rope then kicks his knee. Hawk then turns and yells at someone in the front row. As he turns around Nighthawk hits Hawk with a big right hand. Hawk is rocked for a second. Nighthawk pulls his leg back into the ring. Hawk grabs him and whips him into the far turnbuckle. Hawk charges the turnbuckle but Nighthawk lifts his leg and catches Hawk with a Big Boot to the face. Hawk stagger to the center of the ring. Nighthawk bounces himself off the ropes and charges Hawk but its Hawk that catches Nighthawk in a side slam and takes him down. Francis: Nighthawk trying to regain some control of this match but Hawk not allowing it. King: Hawk has been very Methodical here tonight. He seems to have a game plan and is sticking to it. Hawk falls upon Nighthawk and chokes him. The ref counts One Two Three Four. Hawk lets go and the official is getting in his facing warning Hawk. Nighthawk drags himself to the ropes and drapes himself over the middle rope. Hawk races to the far side ropes and shoots himself toward Nighthawk. He Jumps on Nighthawk forcing his neck into the middle rope. Hawk hit him with enough force that he slides off Nighthawk and lands feet first on the outside of the ring. Nighthawk grabs his neck and gasp for air. Nighthawk not knowing that Hawk is outside the ring rolls himself outside to the floor. Francis: In a normal situation that may be a smart move but Hawk has been without mercy. King: Mercy is for the week. In Nighthawks day he gave no Mercy but it seems that his day has gone. Hawk pulls Nighthawk up by the hair and walks him to the corner of the ring. Hawk tries to slam Nighthawks head on the ring steps but Nighthawk blocks it. Nighthawk elbows Hawk then quickly grabs Hawk and slams him into the ring steps. King; That figures just when I count the big man out he starts to come back. Nighthawk tries to bounce his head off the steps again but this time Hawk Blocks it and slams Nighthawks head into the steps. Francis: Looks like you spoke to soon. Nighthawk has been driven to his knees. King: I can’t do it. That one is just to easy. Hawk rolls Nighthawk into the ring. Nighthawk struggles to his feet. Hawk hits him with a big right hand and Nighthawk is on his backside again. Again Nighthawk struggles to his feet. Francis: Hawk is moving to slow. He should be taking advantage of Nighthawks condition. Nighthawk falls back on the ropes and slings himself off the ropes and hits Hawk with a big right hand that staggers Hawk. Nighthawk again hits Hawk with a Big right hand and another and another then a kick to the midsection and an uppercut to the jaw. Francis: And Nighthawk is starting to unload on Hawk. King: But Hawk is not going to go so easily. Hawk elbows Nighthawk to the face. Followed by a big double axe handle to the back and neck driving Nighthawk to his hands and knees. Hawk kicks Nighthawk in the midsection. Francis: Hawk seems to be stopping Nighthawk at every turn. King: Well, that’s what youth gives you, quickness and stamina. Nighthawk rolls over on his back. Hawk drops to his knees and pounds Nighthawk over and over again in the head. He stops to shout something to falcon who is pleading with Nighthawk to get up. Nighthawk reaches up and grabs Hawk by the neck. Nighthawk sits up and the two men climb to their feet. Nighthawk draws back to hit Hawk but Hawk catches Nighthawk with a Low Kick that doubles Nighthawk over and staggers him into the corner. Hawk stands up Nighthawk in the corner and then climbs the ropes and begins punching Nighthawk in the head. Nighthawk Lifts Hawk off the ropes into a power bomb and slams him to the mat. King: But then again the older one gets the meaner they become. Nighthawk takes Hawk and tosses him out of the ring. Francis: That’s a smart move by Nighthawk. Try to regain some breath. Some energy. What is he doing!!! Nighthawk runs toward the ropes where he just tossed Hawk outside. Hawk now standing turns just in time to see Nighthawk launching himself over the top rope and landing on Hawk. King: Can you believe that! Nighthawk grabs Hawk and rolls him back into the ring. Nighthawk scoops up Hawk and Piledrives him in he center of the ring. Ref counts One Two. Kickout. Francis: Only a two count. Nighthawk digs his knee into Hawk neck. The ref counts one two three Nighthawk rises off of him. Nighthawk picks him up whips him to the ropes and drops him to the mat with a clothesline. Nighthawk pulls him up again and Hits him with a T-Bone Suplex. Hawk tries to pull himself up. Nighthawk hits him with a big forearm to the kidneys and then another. Nighthawk executes a backbreaker on Hawk and Holds him bent over his knees. Finally Nighthawk lets him go. Nighthawk picks him up in a scoop slam then bounces off the ropes for a big leg drop but Hawk rolls out of the way and out of the ring. Nighthawk follows. Hawk runs around the ring and slides in. Nighthawk slides in behind him but Hawk hits Nighthawk with an elbow to the back of the head. Francis: And again the tide of the match has turned. King: I’m surprised I thought Nighthawk was smarter then that. Nighthawk tries to get to his feet. Hawk comes up behind him and executes a full nelson suplex. Nighthawk is bent in half. Hawk picks up Nighthawk and whips him into the ropes as Nighthawk comes off the ropes Hawk wraps him up in a sleeper hold. Nighthawk struggles to get out. Ramming Hawk several times into the corner before Hawk finally lets go. Hawk charges out of the corner at Nighthawk but Nighthawk catches him in a sidewalk slam. Nighthawk pulls him to his feet and whips him into the ropes. Nighthawk catches him in a spine buster. Francis: Shades of Arn Anderson in that Spinebuster. King: Neither one of these men know the meaning of the word quit. And I doubt that they know the meaning of a lot of other words too. Again Nighthawk picks him up and executes a Jumping DDT on Hawk. Nighthawk rises up and walks around the ring taunting the crowd. Hawk get to his feet and charges Nighthawk but Nighthawk catches Hawk in a claw hold. Hawk tries to work his way out of the hold. Finally Nighthawk releases the hold. Hawk is on rubber legs as he turns around to face Nighthawk. Nighthawk lifts up Hawks head. Francis: Looks like Nighthawk is sizing up Hawk. Nighthawk pokes Hawk in the eyes. Francis: Oh What a dirty move. King: That was beautiful. I laughed, I cried, It really moved me. The official is yelling a Nighthawk about the last move. Hawk staggers to the ropes. Falcon climbs up on the apron and hits Hawk with Nighthawk steel talon gloves. Francis: Oh come on he was in control does he need to kick a man when he’s down. King: No, but it is fun. Nighthawk goes over and picks up Hawk. Nighthawk whips Hawk into the corner then follows him in with a big clothesline. Nighthawk picks up Hawk and places him on the top turnbuckle. King: This is it. He is going for the finisher. Nighthawk climbs up and tries to lift Hawk into the Top rope Brain buster Nighthawk calls the Power Dive. Hawk shifts his weight and turns the move into a splash on Nighthawk but Nighthawk holds on and rolls through the move. Hawks shoulders are down. Nighthawk has a handful of tights. The ref counts One Two Three. The ref calls for the bell. Nighthawk rolls out of the ring and into Falcons arms. Hawk stands up and argues with the ref about the handful of tights. Francis: Hawk has a legitimate argument. King: But the ref didn’t see it and he can’t call what he can’t see. Funyon: Ladies and Gentleman, Your winner NIGHTHAWK!!! Francis: I hate to see a good match end like that. King: I think it was great. It gives me some hope that the old boy Nighthawk might be finally shaking off the old ring rust. Francis: The one thing I will say is that both men showed some great toughness out there in that back and forth contest. But right now we need to pay some bills. Stay tuned fans we will be back with more great SWF action. Don’t go away. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
chirs3 0 Report post Posted December 1, 2006 Tag Match to be edited in, hopefully. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
chirs3 0 Report post Posted December 1, 2006 The air is electric as the cameras pan back into the Albuquerque Convention Center, sweeping over such signs as ‘IS A TOWEL-WRAPPED BAR OF SOAP LEGAL?,’ ‘MADDIX.XMISSION.COM,’ and the omnipresent ‘JJ JOHNSON = SPOT REMOVER’. Why shouldn’t the crowd be excited? The World Heavyweight Championship is on the line tonight. There is a Cold Front Classic semifinal match tonight. Not to mention that… “Tonight, ladies and gentlemen,” the Franchise, Mak Francis, begins, ‘is a night of firsts. This match is one of them. What we have coming up for you is, for the first time in SWF history, the Full Metal Mayhem match, and it promises to be extraordinarily violent. Anything made of metal is legal; anything that isn’t is grounds for disqualification.’ “It’s a bummer that it’s non-title, though,” sighs the Suicide King. “Jimmy the Doom has held his Hardcore belt forever, and if not for Landon Maddix being the special guest referee, JJ Johnson would be just the person to take it from him.” “Landon Maddix provides another interesting dynamic in this match, King,” Francis notes. “Landon Maddix and JJ Johnson will do, as the kids like to say, ‘BIG BATTEL’ a scant four days from now. Just how fair will Maddix be with the opportunity to rough up his notoriously difficult to rough up right in front of him?” “How fair would Maddix be without that opportunity?” snaps the Heartbreaker. “It’s Landon Maddix. They don’t let him into the handicap ward of the hospital for a reason.” Mak’s mouth is opening to declare his realization as to just who cut the brake line of his wheelchair, but he doesn’t get far before he is very rudely interrupted by the abrasive voice of David Draiman. "Tell me exactly, what am I supposed to do Now that I have allowed you, to beat me! Do you think that we could play another game Maybe I could win this ti-ime." “The Game” by Disturbed begins blasting out of the sound system, and shortly after, Megan Skye emerges from behind the curtain. The crowd gets slightly negative knowing what this heralds, and then the heraldee shows his face. The jeers get much louder, and two things are noticeably different about La Cucaracha. The first, Landon’s long, black, sleeveless leather jacket has been modified, adding vertical white stripes to match his black slacks and referee shirt. The second, Landon Maddix is wearing what appears to be riot gear. “An… interesting choice of attire for La Cucaracha here,” says Mak Francis with an arched eyebrow. “He’s a wuss!” snarls the Gambling Man. “I think Landon Maddix is afraid of Mr. Cold Front Classic!” “Well, the flaw in Landon’s plan is that Johnson will only attack if provoked,” says Francis. The Franchise declines to comment on how easily provoked the Canadian Murder Machine is as Maddix gloats his way down the aisle, sliding into the ring and bouncing to his feet before whirling, to a largely negative reaction. "I kinda like the misery you put me through Darling you can trust me, completely! If you even try to look the other way I think that I could kill this ti-ime!" And then, the lights drop out to massive cheers! “DOOM! DOOM! DOOM!” Which soften significantly as they realize that it is not JJ Johnson on his way to the ring, but Jimmy the Doom. The reaction is still quite loud, however, as Jimmy wrassles for the childrens. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Funyon booms, “the following contest is the FULL METAL MAYHEM match, and it is scheduled for one fall! Anything metal is a legal weapon, and anything not made of metal is grounds for disqualification. Falls count anywhere in the arena. In the ring, the special guest referee, Landon Maddix, and on his way to the ring, from Doomopolis, Doomtopia, the SWF Hardcore Gamer’s Champion… JIMMY! THE! DOOOOOOOOM!’ Jimmy and Lois stride their way to the ring amongst the druids, Jimmy’s Buckingham Palace guard hat towering quite high above the assembled Doomites(?). Jimmy does a handstand upon reaching the ring, and then pulls himself into the ring through pure leg-and-stomach strength. “Very impressive,” says Mak. “A pretty blatant waste of energy, but regardless, very impressive.” “I think it might intimidate Johnson,” King postulates. “Core muscle strength like that is nothing but a benefit. Not to mention the guy has a skull like a rock.” “That second thing may prove far more useful in a match like this,” says The Franchise rather grimly… as for a second time, the lights drop out. A massive roar goes up, drowning out Nergal’s chanting… *BOOM!* … and then the most vocal crowd would be inaudible, as Behemoth’s “Slaves Shall Serve” kicks into full gear, Johnson striding through the curtain with no further ado, the brilliant red-and-white lights reflecting in his sunglasses… DING DING DING! … which he immediately, instinctively throws off as the bell unexpectedly goes! If Johnson were to look in the ring, he would see a huge grin on Landon Maddix’s face, but Jimmy the Doom doing the Walter Payton knee-high sprint down the aisle with a set of brass knuckles that he certainly did not bring with him, and did not find under the ring, is rather distracting. The Doomtopian wastes no time in hurling a knuckle-enhanced fist… that Johnson easily ducks, curving his body around the blow before launching his own blow: his signature elbow smash! *CRACK!* Incredibly, it fazes Jimmy little; his head snaps into place just as soon as it snaps back, and Johnson barely has time to get his arms up to block the screaming elbow that Jimmy launches in retaliation! Regardless, Jimmy is quite off-balance, and Johnson sweeps his legs, dropping him onto his face before stalking towards the ring. “Lois the Unethical is noticeably absent,” Mak says, with a frown. “Perhaps Jimmy encouraged her to stay behind, considering the stipulation.” “Maybe she got lost,” says King, shrugging, and the Franchise has to give a nod of admittance as Johnson begins digging under the ring. Jimmy the Doom effortlessly shoves himself up to his feet quickly, as a fall onto one’s face, for a man as tough as Jimmy, is not particularly devastating. He is mildly disoriented, however, and it takes him a moment to find his way back to the ring… … and ducks, Johnson’s hurled ladder sailing over his head! Jimmy reacts quickly, turning and sprinting to the head of the ladder, as Johnson takes a moment to swear before charging after the Doom, who plants a foot under the head of the ladder and, with a mighty thrust upwards, sends the ladder vertical! However, it does not do so particularly quickly, and Johnson catches it in both hands. *CLANNNGG!!* … AND EATS IT, JIMMY DRIVING IT INTO HIS FACE WITH HIS YAK KICK! “OOOOOHH!!” Johnson understandably drops the ladder and staggers backwards, certainly not expecting to have 15 pounds of aluminum kicked quite firmly into his forehead. Jimmy catches it before it hits the ground and unfolds it, standing it upright before charging and leaping into the air… *THWOCK!* … and thrusting his foot straight into Johnson’s waiting hands, Johnson recovering just in time to catch the flying front kick before it left a permanent indentation in his chest! Without any pause, Johnson tosses the foot around and to the ground before ducking under Jimmy and lifting him up into an electric chair. The crowd gasps – having been bred on this position equaling Michael Stephens’ dreaded Dangerlust – but their fears are placated (kind of) by Johnson instead grasping Jimmy’s waistband and SHOVING HIM INTO THE LADDER! Or, rather, giving Jimmy a boost to land on the ladder and pause before hurling himself back at the Canadian, turning in mid-air and nailing him with a corkscrew elbow smash! *CRACK!* Johnson goes down hard, and Jimmy lands on his feet and staggers before regaining his balance and tugging JJ up by the hair and rolling him into the ring! Landon eyes JJ very carefully as he sits up and shakes his head, but JJ could honestly care less whatever Landon Maddix is doing right now, as Jimmy the Doom has dug under the ring and pulled out a trash can filled with goodies – this term is used very loosely – and tossed it into the ring with a clang! Johnson is still quite woozy, and can only eye the contents of the can; however, one thing is within his reach. And so, not really thinking, as Jimmy the Doom slides into the ring, JJ Johnson seizes a firm hold of the handle of a kendo stick and swings. It is at this point that Landon Maddix does what, in an ordinary situation, neither he nor any other man of sound mind would do. He dives in front of the weapon. *SMAAAAACKK!!* “OWWWWWWW!!” howls La Cucaracha, and he takes a moment to take a breath before unleashing his fury on the Canadian Murder Machine. “Jesus Christ, what are you, stupid?!” screeches Landon as Megan looks concerned on the outside. “This is not Full Bamboo Mayhem! This is Full METAL Mayhem, and the only legal weapons are those made of METAL. Now do that again and you’re disqualified!” Maddix turns his back on the Canadian and grabs at his ribs, wincing with the strain on his ribs it took to berate JJ. If one were to look very closely at the Canadian’s face, one would see the faint hint of a grin. “Aha!” laughs King. “Brilliant! JJ took a risk there, and swung the kendo stick knowing full well that Landon would interfere!” “How could he know that Landon would interfere, though, King?” inquires Mak. “I mean, surely Landon would rather add another loss to JJ’s record as soon as possible.” “JJ has already been hit in the face with a ladder,” the Heartbreaker states with the utmost bluntness. “It is no doubt in Landon’s favor to have JJ roughed up as much as possible before their Cold Front Classic match on Smarkdown. Landon would LOVE for JJ to lose. Just not this early.” Meanwhile, Jimmy has been digging in the trash can, and emerges with a miniature golf-size putter. “Who the hell put that in there?” asks Mak. “I dunno,” says King with a shrug. “I guess a real one wouldn’t fit into a trash can.” Johnson is just beginning to get to his feet as Jimmy steps back into the corner; with JJ on his hands and knees, the Doomtopian begins his approach Happy Gilmore style, rears the club back, and swings, taking off Johnson’s head! *WHOOSH!* Fortunately for JJ, there was quite a chunk of space between the head of the club and the canvas, and so the Canadian Murder Machine rolls through it before rising to his feet and seizing the club that has swung up behind Jimmy’s head, jerking out of his hands! The force of the tug causes Jimmy to stagger backwards, and Johnson tucks a head under his arm before lifting him high for a backdrop! “BAAAACKDROPPUH!” shouts King, but Mr. Cold Front Classic does not fall; instead, he looks behind him, finds what he’s looking for… …and then takes a few steps backwards before jumping and shoving Jimmy off of his shoulders, SLAMMING THE DOOMTOPIAN RIGHT INTO THE TRASH CAN! *CRUMPFFK!* “OOOOOOOOHHH!!!” Jimmy spasms in a rather terrifying fashion, his eyes wide open and his mouth running, no doubt mumbling a great deal of Doomtopian swears. Johnson is already up to his feet, and he gives an eyebrow-arching Landon Maddix a look before rolling out of the ring and slamming the ladder supports shut, lifting up the Home Depot special and sliding it back into the squared circle. “Jesus!” shouts King. “Johnson may have the match won here!” He does not; Jimmy the Doom is aching very badly, no doubt, but he’s pulling his way to his feet and reaches into the trash can, tugging out… a sledgehammer! Johnson decides it would be prudent to get this out of his hands, and thus he charges, launching a kick at Jimmy! *CLANK!* This kick is subsequently blocked, Jimmy holding the sledgehammer up just in time to put it in the path of Johnson’s heavy blow! The Canadian Murder Machine’s eyes go wide, but Jimmy cares not about JJ’s surprise, and stick his sledgehammer under the outstretched leg of the Ultimate Fighter before rising to his feet, upending the number one seed and dropping him high on his shoulders! *BANG!* *THWOCK!* “OOOFF!!” Moments later, Jimmy drives the head of the hammer into Johnson’s stomach, prompting the Canadian to instinctively fold in half and try his very hardest to not vomit. Deciding the Canadian is incapacitated for now – and frankly, if he isn’t, he’s invincible – Jimmy strides over to the ladder and hoists up the device normally used for climbing, but now used for malice. With no further ado, he sets it up, unfolding it and planting it at a position from which the Doomtopian can easily leap onto his prone opponent. It seem as though this is his intent, considering he’s about three rungs up in the blink of an eye, then four, five, six, seven, eight, nine… … … and he stops short at nine, trembling uncontrollably. Understandably confused, Landon shouts up at Jimmy. “What are you doing?!” asks the shocked Cucaracha. “Many fearings of tallosity!” shouts the Doomtopian in response. “What?!” asks Landon. “Many fearings of tallosity!” Doom bellows again. “WHAT?!” shouts Maddix. “MANY FEARINGS OF TALLOSITY!” roars Jimmy. “No, no, I can hear you just fine!” snaps Landon. “What the hell are you saying?!” “I think he’s saying he’s afraid of heights!” shouts Megan Skye, attempting to help her client. “What?!” screeches Maddix, utterly shocked. “MANY FEARINGS OF TA-“ “Not you, dammit!” Meanwhile, Johnson has pulled himself up to his knees, still doubled over a great deal, and begun climbing up the ladder. One rung at a time, JJ rises, Jimmy only shaking his head and trembling. "You know, this doesn't really make any sense. Jimmy was in a Stairway to Panda match and an Ashes to Ashes match, during which he climbed a ladder," Mak points out. "I'm chalking this up to excessive head trauma," King says. ***OnlineHost*** MannyTheTorpedoes has entered the room MannyTheTorpedoes: whas this? "The hell...why is Manny Ramirez here, King?" Mak asks. "How should I know? I'm making the most of this, though. Hey, Manny, what's up?" MannyTheTorpedoes: no much jus manny bein manny Johnson finally reaches Doom's level, only to get cracked with a headbutt. MannyTheTorpedoes: ow he should getta helmet i gotta wear helmet when hit home ron hit lossa home ron JJ reels backwards, but stays on the ladder and nails Doom with an elbow. Johnson blasts Jimmy with another elbow to the jaw before the Hardcore champ retaliates with a Hand of Doom. Johnson drops off the ladder, gasping for air. Free from the Canadian Murder Machine's assault, the Straight-Breader can slide down the ladder and search through the trash can. MannyTheTorpedoes: i do that once i finna hodog an my baseball card i ate it "You ate a hot dog you found in the trash?" Mak ask incredulously. MannyTheTorpedoes: no the card manny eatin manny For some reason, the trash can is absolutely filled with tiny metal thimbles. Doom slips one on each finger, and takes an extra handful. Johnson rises to his feet and charges the Doomtopian. Jimmy hurls a thimble, hitting JJ in the forehead, but not slowing him in the slightest. Doom tosses the remaining thimbles on the ground, but this isn't a cartoon and Johnson stays on his feet, up until he spears Jimmy to the mat. The Canadian Murder Machine slides up Doom's torso and slams a vicious elbow into the Straight-Breader's face. "Johnson is livid over that throat strike, and he's certainly justified," Mak says. "Of course he is! He spent who knows how long unable to talk because a careless oaf hit him in the throat, and I'm sure he doesn't want that to happen again," King says. Johnson cracks Doom with another elbow, and another before Jimmy finally manages to buck JJ off. Johnson slides over and scoops up an aluminum baseball bat. JJ stalks after the Doomtopian, but Maddix steps in, blocking the Canuck's path. "Give me that bat, I need to check it," Landon says. "What the fuck are you talking about?" Johnson growls. "It could be a wood bat disguised as aluminum," Landon says. "Who the fuck would do that?" "Someone who likes to break the rules for the sake of breaking them," Landon says. "That group consists solely of you and Flesher, so fuck off," JJ grumbles. "Still gotta check it, or I could just disqualify you right now," Maddix says. Muttering under his breath, Johnson relinquishes his weapon. Lucky for Maddix, an expert on bats happens to be sitting next to Mak Francis. "Looks like you're being called upon, Manny," the Franchise says, turning to Ramirez. "Where the hell did you get a Tanooki Suit?" MannyTheTorpedoes: manny super mario bros. 3ing manny Maddix hands the bat to Manny, who confirms the makeup of the object. MannyTheTorpedoes: is metal like airplang he should use airplang "Manny, neither man is strong enough to lift an airplane," Mak says. MannyTheTorpedoes: i deman they use airplang or i leave boston "Uh, okay, I guess," Francis mumbles. MannyTheTorpedoes: manny decreeing manny Landon returns the weapon to Johnson, who takes a swing at Jimmy, but the Hardcore champ ducks underneath. Doom picks up the trash can and belts JJ in the face with it, knocking Johnson flat. Doom drops and makes a lateral press. "One!" Maddix shouts. Landon looks at Johnson's shoulders, and since he always has a plan, pulls out some calipers to judge just how far off the canvas they are. After getting three measurements and finding the mean, La Cucaracha is ready. "Tw-no! Shoulder up!" Landon yells. "Oh, come on! That took forever!" Mak laments. "I doubt Doom would have gotten the win there, anyway, Mak. Mr. Cold Front Classic is a tough customer in his own right," King says. MannyTheTorpedoes: jonson gonna win he haf finasure "See, Manny thinks JJ is going to win, why can't you realize that, Francis?" King asks. MannyTheTorpedoes: no jj gonna lose "What? You just said he was going to win," Mak says. MannyTheTorpedoes: manny disagreeing manny Doom pulls Johnson to his feet and whips the shorter man to the ropes. Jimmy chases after JJ and leaps into the air, wrapping his gangly limbs around the Canadian Murder Machine. Despite his smaller size, Johnson is far too strong for the flying bodyscissors takedown to be effective, so JJ simply walks to the ladder and slams Doom's back into the structure. "Look out, Manny, it's your doppelganger, and he's got a knife!" King warns. MannyTheTorpedoes: manny fleeing manny ***OnlineHost*** MannyTheTorpedoes has left the room “That was the weirdest thing EVER,” says Mak as Jimmy slides down the ladder, Johnson walking and snagging the aluminum bat before hoisting it high, showing off his intentions to the crowd. “BOOOOOOOO!” They are not particularly fond of his intentions, much to Johnson’s apathy… as he turns and gets revenge for the earlier sledgehammer attack, slamming it end-first into Jimmy’s ribs! *CRACK!* “Rat a tat tat go the sound of my bat!” bellows JJ to massive jeers as Jimmy’s eyes bug wide again, and he slumps to his knees. “That didn’t sound good at all,” gasps the Franchise. “Jimmy might have hurt ribs!” “He did NOT just say ‘rat a tat tat goes the sound of my bat’,” says King, his jaw almost to the floor. Satisfied with the damage done, Johnson casually tosses the bat aside- *CLUNK!* -directly into Landon Maddix’s head. Landon drops like a stone, and Johnson turns and eyes the prone form of his rival, raising his hands up to his mouth in mock surprise. “Oh, now that’s just a low blow!” groans Mak. “No, THIS is a low blow!” laughs King, and strikes! “King, I’m paralyzed from the waist down,” says the Franchise, flatly. “By the way, do you know the capital of Thailand?” “Oh, that’s easy,” the Heartbreaker scoffs. “The capital of Thailand is Bangkok.” King’s moans rising from the announce table shortly thereafter would be inaudible if not for his headset, as the crowd is making a great deal of noise. Not boos. Not cheers. Just… noise. What JJ Johnson is doing is far more interesting, as he seizes Jimmy in a front facelock and lifts him high… HIGH… before draping him across the top of the ladder. Jimmy slides backwards, and stops on his feet on the second-to-last rung, still quite slumped from the blunt force trauma to the ribs, not to mention rebounding off of the ladder. This is rather moot, as Johnson immediately scurries up the ladder… and tucks his head under Jimmy’s arm. “No…” Mak moans, and the crowd goes mostly silent. Johnson cannot hear Mak Francis. He probably wouldn’t care. The Canadian lifts. And falls. *BA-BOOOOOOOOM!!!! “OOOOOOHHHH!!!” “BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACKDROPPPUH!!!!” roars King as Johnson and Jimmy both hit harder than humans should be hitting a surface; Jimmy bounces all the way up to his knees before slumping to the side, onto his back. Johnson, on the other hand, is grasping his neck and is, although only he knows this, gritting his teeth very, very intensely. “BACKDROP OFF OF THE LADDER!” screams Francis. “BACKDROP OFF OF THE LADDER, AND JOHNSON IS GOING FOR THE COVER!” Indeed, the Ultimate Fighter drapes himself across the Doomtopian, just as Landon Maddix raises his head. Maddix’s vision is very blurry, and all he can see is that there’s a pin. And so he does his duty. ONE! TWO! THREE! DING DING DING! “Slaves Shall Serve” comes roaring out of the sound system as Johnson immediately rolls out of the ring before collapsing, gripping his neck with a great deal of vigor, now allowing himself a moan of pain. “HERE IS YOUR WINNER,” shouts Funyon, “J! J! JOOOOOHNSSOOON!!” “And it’s over,” sighs Mak. “JJ Johnson tricked – more like attempted to murder – Landon Maddix, and he got the win.” “4-0, bay-bee!” grins King. “Landon’s probably concussed, Johnson has a hurt neck, but JJ has the momentum! Monday’s match is going to have to kick all kinds of ass!” “Maybe,” winces Mak, particularly touchy about neck injuries. “Speaking of the Cold Front Classic, we have Tom Flesher vs. Spike Jenkins coming up next, ladies and gentlemen. If this match is any indication, don’t you dare miss it.” FADE OUT Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
chirs3 0 Report post Posted December 1, 2006 Spoonikens vs. Skinner to be edited in. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
chirs3 0 Report post Posted December 1, 2006 (edited) “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re back in Alberquerque for our main event,” Mak Francis announces, “and this promises to be one to remember! The SWF’s World Champion Michael Stephens goes into this title defence against Jay Hawke with a more turbulent record that he’s used to - he and Landon Maddix-” King makes a spitting sound. “-defeated the Predators to retain the Tag Titles,” Francis continues with a sideways glare at his commentary partner, “but then Stephens’ undefeated record was broken as Zyon took the Cruiserweight Title from him in a Ladder Match… although we should make it clear that Gabriel Drake played a role in that.” “Yeah, and?” King asks, “it was a Ladder Match, no disqualification. Besides, are you saying that Zyon was in on it?” “Well, no,” Mak admits, “that wasn’t clear-” “Then you can shut up about it,” the Gambling Man tells his partner, “get on with telling them how Hawke’s going to take Toxxic’s title.” “…well actually I’d say that’s far from certain,” the Franchise responds testily, “since Stephens saw off the joint threat of Tom Flesher and Spike Jenkins in a Triple Threat on Storm, both men who have grudges with him!” “Bah,” King snorts, “Spike did the hard work, he wrestled his heart out and got in a position where he could, unbelievably, have pinned Tom. It’s just like Toxxic to sneak in and weasel a win after Spike was exhausted from that gargantuan effort.” “Yeah, and?” Mak counters in his turn, “it was a Triple Threat, opportunists win those. He still had to make Spike submit.” “Oh shut up.” And with that witty exchange the lights inside the Alberquerque Convention Centre start to dim, prompting the opening strains of Pink Floyd’s ‘Learning To Fly’ to ooze out through the PA system. The crowd responds in a fairly predictable way… “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “JAY HAWKE SUCKS!” “JAY HAWKE SUCKS!” A spotlight shines down from the ceiling and illuminates the Dean as he makes his stately way down to the ring, robe swishing as he does so. Falcon stay a couple of steps behind, well aware that she should not be sharing the spotlight with the man who with any luck after tonight will be the champion of the world. For his part Hawke just smirks at the fans who hurl abuse at him, supremely confident in his own abilities as he is. “Jay Hawke has never won ‘the Big One’ here in the SWF,” Mak Francis reminds viewers, “but he did capture a singles victory win over Tom Flesher at Ashes 2 Ashes, and that’s no easy thing to do, as Michael Stephens can tell you!” “You could tell them that too,” King puts in. “Well, yes.” “Only from your experience, you’d be telling them it’s impossible,” the Gambling Man smirks. Hawke climbs the ring steps up to the apron, whereupon Falcon holds the ropes open for him. The Dean steps jauntily into the ring and removes his robe, then raises his arms for the fans. They don’t appreciate the gesture. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “He’s cocky, arrogant and a regular pain in the ass,” Mak Francis says, “no actually, he’s much worse than a plain, regular pain in the ass would be… but there’s no denying that he’s talented.” “Yeah, like you can feel a pain in the ass these days.” As the mocking of the cripple continues in defiance of all PC and broadcasting guidelines, a sudden change comes over the arena. Every light hits full and the Smarktron whites out; this phenomenon is followed half a second later by a raucous, rolling chant that blasts out from the PA system in a brutal challenge to the classic rock-inspired pageantry of Jay Hawke: “COME AND HAVE A GO IF YOU THINK YER ‘ARD ENOUGH!” “COME AND HAVE A GO IF YOU THINK YER ‘ARD ENOUGH!” The opening chord of ‘Rookie’ crashes out through the PA system, prompting everyone in the arena to rise to their feet as the Smarktron fades quickly down to black, jagged white letters flashing up a familiar slogan, one word at a time: ‘PREPARE TO BE PROVED WRONG…’ The Smarktron changes again to show famous clips from famous matches, clips that many of those watching know off by heart; the All-Show Brawl with the Insane Luchador; the infamous Glass Jawbreaker on Aecas; the Caffeine Bomb on Nathaniel Kibagami; and the Sunny In England on Tom Flesher at Genesis VII. Finally it changes to show one last clip, that of Mike Van Siclen being taken off a balcony and through a table with the Stephens Shock Syndrome, the devastating landing timed to coincide with the- *BOOOM!* -explosion of red pyro that announces the arrival of the SWF’s most decorated Englishman as the main riff hammers out! And through the flame and smoke… “TOXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-IC…” …World Title wrapped around his waist with one of the Tag Titles slung over his right shoulder… “TOXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-IC…” …blue-black hair hanging down in front of steel-grey eyes, wrapped in his black-and-red canvas trenchcoat… “TOXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-IC…” …comes the man once known as Toxxic. “He’s lost the Cruiserweight Title, but he still has two belts!” Mak Francis declares over the roar of the crowd. “Make no mistake, Michael Stephens will be going into this match with every intention of holding onto his World Title! He’s already passed the record for the most number of successful World Title defences in any one reign, and now he’s heading towards El Luchadore Magnifico’s record for the longest World Title reign of all time!” “Heresy,” King spits. Michael Stephens reaches the bottom of the entrance ramp, whereupon he unbuckles the World Title with one hand and takes the Tag belt into the other. He then crosses his arms into the straight-edge ‘X’ for a moment, then flings them wide with a title belt dangling from each hand as the first verse comes in and more pyro erupts from the top of each ringpost! *bap-bap* *BOOOM!!* ‘I never thought this could be me I guess you never do until it’s happening to you Like all the fun turns into shame And all the “could-have-beens” rearrange…’ Stephens hands both title belts to referee Matthew Kivell, then strips off his trenchcoat and the personalised England shirt underneath, throwing the latter into the crowd. Then he cracks his neck from side-to-side and stares across the ring at Jay Hawke, who returns his gaze steadily. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Funyon booms, standing in the middle of the ring, “the following contest is scheduled for one fall and is for the SWF World Heavyweight Title! Introducing first, in the corner to my right, the challenger; from the Hall of Fame City of Cleveland, Ohio, he weighs in tonight at 215lbs and is accompanied to the ring by Falcon; this is ‘The Dean of Professional Wrestling’, JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY… HAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWKE!!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “And his opponent,” Funyon continues, “from Nottingham, England; he weighs in tonight at 218lbs and is the reigning and defending SWF World Heavyweight Champion… this is ‘The Sensation’, MIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-CHAEL… STEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-PHENS!!” “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “TOXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-IC…” “TOXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-IC…” Matthew Kivell shows both men the World Title, then lifts it up and puts the belt on display to all four sides of the Alberquerque Convention Center. He hands it through the ropes to the timekeeper and, as Jay Hawke swings his arms a couple of times and Stephens jiggles up and down to limber up, calls for the bell. *DING-DING-DING!* Neither man wastes any time; they surge forward immediately, arms coming up for a traditional collar-and-elbow tie-up in the middle of the ring. Despite his shorter frame the Dean of Professional Wrestling seems to get better traction on the mat, and after a few seconds of shoving he starts to edge Stephens back towards the corner of the ring. Once Mike’s back touches the buckles Kivell steps inbetween the two men and orders them to break; Hawke releases cautiously and steps back slowly… …then swings a right hand that catches Stephens on the jaw and off-guard! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Kivell rounds on Hawke and remonstrates with him, but the Dean just backs away smirking. Stephens rubs his jaw and regards Hawke steadily, steel-grey eyes not betraying any emotion yet, then he steps out of the corner and advances towards his opponent again. Hawke seems quite happy to go for a lock-up again, but this time contact has barely been made before Stephens twists off to one side, taking one of Hawke’s arms with him and coming up behind the Dean with a hammerlock applied. However it seems the Englishman has a certain amount of revenge in mind, as instead of trying to work the hold or transition it into a different one he simply jumps up and dropkicks Hawke in the back, sending the challenger sprawling away across the ring! “YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “LET’S GO STE-PHENS!” “LET’S GO STE-PHENS!” “Jay Hawke showed the ring experience of a veteran there,” Mak Francis notes, referencing Hawke’s ten-year career, “but Michael Stephens has been in the SWF longer than his opponent and this is where he made his name; I think he views the SWF as his stomping ground, and anyone who takes liberties will suffer the consequences!” “Toxxic showed he’s a temperamental brat who overreacts when a better wrestler is in the ring with him,” King sniffs. Hawke is back up, and not looking pleased at the manner of his recent journey across the ring. Stephens is back on his feet too, and is holding one black-nailed hand up above his head in an invite for a test of strength. Hawke, at three inches shorter than his opponent, could potentially be at a disadvantage and the challenger seems to weigh up the pros and cons of the situation before stepping forwards and cautiously reaching up to lace his fingers with those of Stephens’ right hand… and then the left hand… …and instead of trying to use his height to his advantage Stephens brings his right foot up to kick Hawke’s left hand away from his own, then applies an armwringer to Hawke’s right arm. This unexpected tactic takes the Dean off-guard for a moment; only for a moment though, as a second later he rolls forward and back to his feet to neutralise the hold, then takes Stephens’ wrist and twists the other way to apply his own armwringer and prevent his opponent from taking the same way out. Stephens doesn’t seem daunted and runs for the nearest set of ropes, springing off the middle rope to land in a seated position on the top cable, then backflipping off in what would have been an Arabian Press if he hadn’t landed on his feet (conveniently untwisting his arm as he does so). From there Stephens again twists in an armwringer, but this time he drives the point of his left elbow into Hawke’s shoulder, trying to force the shorter man down for a Fujiwara! “LET’S GO STE-PHENS!” Jay Hawke’s face shows pain but he maintains a wide vertical base and plants his left arm in front of him, preventing Stephens from forcing him down to the mat. Stephens adjust his position to try and get more weight over his opponent, but this allows Hawke to go for a new tactic and he hooks his legs around Stephens’, then starts to roll forward and down. Mike releases his grip on his opponent’s arm as he becomes more concerned with breaking his fall, and Hawke takes Stephens down with a drop toehold that results in him also getting free of his opponent’s clutches! “JAY HAWKE SUCKS!” “Don’t you listen to them Jay,” King advises the challenger, “they don’t know a true wrestler when they see one.” Hawke is quick to turn the position to his advantage and scuttles into a back mount, from where he slips his right arm underneath Stephens’ to try and apply a chickenwing… but Stephens has no intention of letting Hawke secure even the first step of the dreaded Wing Span, and he wriggles with all his might to turn over onto his back. The motion throws Hawke for a second, long enough for Stephens to grab the arm that a moment before was trying to capture his, then continue around so he’s belly-down on the mat again, but this time with Hawke’s arm in his grasp and nearly in position for a Fujiwara! However, Jay Hawke has just as little intention of being trapped in a painful submission this early in the match and as Stephens tries to adjust his position to lock the armbar in properly Hawke braces himself up away from the mat with his left arm, then tucks his head in and rolls forward. Now on his back the challenger has more mobility in his body, and he reaches back with his legs to fasten them around Stephens’ head, then pulls the surprised Englishman down into a headscissors! “I have to say, both men are putting on a good display of wrestling and counter-wrestling here,” Mak Francis says, “you’d expect Jay Hawke to have the edge here, but Stephens has definitely upped the technical side of his game since his comeback and he’s still capable of taking some people off-guard if they underestimate him…” Stephens forces his way up in the headscissors until the top of his skull is pointing down towards the mat, ass in the air for all the world as if expecting Bobby Riley. Hawke shows no great concern, convinced that he’s got his opponent under control, and that impression is reinforced when Stephens tries to use his hands to prise his opponent’s legs apart and gets nowhere. Hawke smiles smugly to himself, but Stephens suddenly performs a headstand… and Hawke, well aware of how Stephens can pop up out of a headscissors from this position, smacks him hard on the back with two open palms and knocks him back down. “Counter-wrestling my ass,” King sniffs, “that’s Toxxic’s one trick, and Hawke’s wise to it. Jay can keep him there all day now we know that.” Michael Stephens may have other ideas however. The World Champion starts heaving at Hawke’s legs again, but this time instead of prising them apart all his efforts focus on rolling the Dean over onto his front. Finally Stephens simply wraps his arms around Hawke’s legs and rolls sideways, and succeeds in bringing his opponent with him. In this new position Stephens is able to extract his head while keeping Hawke’s legs controlled, then threads his own right leg around Hawke’s left and bridges backwards to grab a reverse chinlock on the startled Hawke! From there it’s the work of a moment to roll over again and hoist the challenger into the air! “Inverted Sickle Hold!” Mak calls, “Michael Stephens has got Jay Hawke in a submission hold here in the early going! Make no mistake, it’s painful… but the knock to Jay Hawke’s pride has to be nearly as bad, considering how seriously the man takes himself as a technical God!” Matthew Kivell is checking on Jay Hawke, both to see if the Dean wants to give up (he doesn’t) and to make sure that Stephens’ reverse chinlock doesn’t slip into a choke (it hasn’t). Hawke thrashes wildly, tries to unclamp Stephens’ hands with no great amount of success, and swears audibly. However, after a few seconds the Dean seems to come to a more organised strategy and starts deliberately throwing his bodyweight to his right, the side nearest the ropes. Stephens tries to hold on but he hasn’t got a great deal of width to balance himself and after a couple of tries Hawke manages to collapse them both sideways, whereupon he can reach out and grab the rope! ‘OK, break it up Mike! ONE!’ ‘TWO!’ Stephens releases before the third count and rolls away, coming quickly back to his feet in case Hawke wants to launch a quick counterattack. However, the Dean of Professional Wrestling instead rolls out of the ring to the outside, where Falcon is on hand to provide comfort and words of advice! “As I suspected,” Mak chuckles, “Jay Hawke doesn’t seem impressed with being outwrestled by Michael Stephens!” “He wasn’t!” King snaps, “he’s just unimpressed with the fact that these morons - and I’m counting you in that statement, on the basis of what you’ve just said - will think that Toxxic’s outwrestled him!” “King, I’ve forgotten more about mat wrestling than you ever knew,” Mak says, “in fact, I think I’ve shat more mat wrestling that you ever knew.” ‘ONE!’ Matthew Kivell declares, after his initial demand for Jay Hawke to get back into the ring is ignored by the Dean. ‘TWO!’ Hawke is no fool; even as he takes a breather and talks with Falcon he keeps one eye on the ring. ‘THREE!’ Stephens is watching, waiting for the Dean to turn his back or drop his guard so he can embark on one of his somersault senton dives to the outside that the crowd love so much… ‘FOUR!’ …but the opportunity never arises. Jay Hawke remains annoyingly focused, even when some fan in the front row starts verbally abusing him. ‘FIVE! C’mon Hawke, get in here!’ Jay Hawke shrugs and hops up to the apron, resting on one knee and swinging the other leg up to stand in preparation for stepping through the ropes… then drops back down to the outside as Michael Stephens moves quickly forwards towards him. ‘Get him back!’ ‘C’mon Mike, let the man in,’ Matthew Kivell mutters, ushering the World Champion backwards. Stephens obliges, but beckons Hawke into the ring with a black-nailed hand. ‘SIX!’ Hawke gets cautiously up to the apron again, and this time remains unmolested as he steps through the ropes. The Dean ostentatiously stretches, perhaps implying that he wasn’t properly warmed up last time, then signals that he’s ready to go. Stephens flashes an ‘about time’ look at Kivell and moves forwards, refocusing on Hawke as they approach for another lock-up… …and moments before they meet, Jay Hawke goes to the eyes. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Oh, that’s cheap,” Mak Francis says in disgust. “Like you never did that,” King retorts. “Well, maybe sometimes, yes,” Francis admits, “but damn it King, raking the guy’s eyes after he’s just outwrestled you? What does that prove, except that you know he’s the better wrestler and you can’t take him?” Stephens has instinctively turned away from his opponent, and Hawke takes this opportunity to grab a reverse headlock and then fall to one knee, driving the back of Stephens’ skull into the other knee. From there Hawke transitions into that most complicated and deadly of submissions… the rear chinlock. “I think he’s trying to make a point,” Mak mutters as Hawke looks around at the booing crowd and smiles. “I think he’s succeeding!” King agrees happily. “JAY HAWKE SUCKS!” “JAY HAWKE SUCKS!” Hawke’s eyes widen in mock horror as the crowd abuse him, and then in a fit of ‘temper’ he removes his knee from the back of Stephens’ neck and hurls the World Champion to the mat so the back of the Englishman’s skull strikes it hard; from there he jumps into the air and comes down with a legdrop, then applies a cover. ONE! TW- -but Stephens kicks out before two! Hawke isn’t bothered, and covers again… ONE! TW- -and Stephens kicks out again. This time the World Champion succeeds in turning over onto his front where he can’t be covered; or so you’d think, but Hawke rises back to his feet before grabbing Stephens’ nearest arm and twisting it around his leg, then rolling across his opponent’s shoulders to bring Stephens back down into a pin with a La Majistral! ONE! TWO!! …but Stephens still kicks out! Hawke grabs Mike’s head as the Englishman starts to try and rise and rolls backwards, hooking Stephens for a small package… ONE! TWO!! …with no more result that before. Not that this discourages Hawke mind you, because although Stephens does get upright this time after breaking the pin it’s only for a second; Hawke dives past him at waist-height and wraps an arm up between Stephens’ legs, with maybe the barest hint of a hand tugging at the back of the World Champion’s pants to bring him over with a schoolboy pin… ONE! TWO!! …and Stephens still kicks out, but when he pops up this time he seems disorientated. Hawke slips behind him and applies a rear waistlock- *BAM!* “German!” Mak calls in genuine surprise, well aware how hard it is to pull off a successful German suplex against Michael Stephens, but Hawke hasn’t just managed it but he’s bridging for the pin… ONE! TWO!! …but Michael Stephens rolls a shoulder off the canvas and falls sideways, collapsing Hawke’s bridge! The dizzy World Champion bellies down again, but this plays right into Hawke’s hands as the veteran gets a back mount and pulls Stephens’ arms back before sitting down into a Camel Clutch! “JAY HAWKE SUCKS!” “JAY HAWKE SUCKS!” “See Francis?” King asks, “after that minor early setback Jay Hawke has now stamped his dominance on the match, as any sensible viewer knew he would.” “What, after the eye gouge you mean?” Mak asks. “But since then he’s been on top,” King argues, “you might not agree with that tactic but it gave him control of the match, and now he won’t lose it again!” Matthew Kivell is checking on Michael Stephens in the Camel Clutch, but the World Champion is shaking his head and refusing to give in. Falcon pounds on the mat in front of him and yells discouraging things but Stephens remains adamant that he’s not giving up. Jay Hawke thinks he knows how to deal with that however, and abruptly throws his weight forwards into a Gedo Clutch to roll Stephens down onto his shoulders for another pin! ONE! TWO!! …but Stephens kicks out again! “Shades of the master there,” King nods respectfully, “one of Tom’s favourite tactics.” “To be fair,” Mak notes, “that entire sequence of quick pins is a tactic that Michael Stephens has used on many occasions, usually against bigger wrestlers.” “Yeah, Toxxic’s used that,” King nods, “that’s why it didn’t work very well.” Jay Hawke seems very happy with how the match is going, to the point where he takes a moment to smirk around at the crowd as he grabs the pained and still slightly disorientated Stephens in a front facelock. “JAY HAWKE SUCKS!” …and with that ringing in his ears, Hawke spins to one side and takes his opponent down with a swinging neckbreaker. Followed, oddly enough, by a cover… ONE! TWO!! …that Stephens kicks out of. “Don’t be fooled,” Mak Francis warns viewers, “Jay Hawke is not stupidly over-optimistic, or at least is not just that. All these covers are forcing Michael Stephens to keep expending valuable energy in kicking out.” There’s no rest for the wicked either. No sooner has Stephens fired a shoulder off the mat than Jay Hawke grabs him by the head and hauls him upright, then grabs the Englishman’s wrist and Irish whips him into the ropes. As Stephens rebounds Hawke scoops him up; for a moment it looks like Stephens has reversed whatever-it-is into a headscissors, but no, the whatever-it-is transpires to be- *CRUNCH!* -a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker! Followed up by, you guessed it… ONE! TWO!! …a cover that Michael Stephens kicks out of before three. There’s no doubt that Hawke’s tactic is working though; exhaustion is starting to show on the champion’s face, as much a result of continually having to kick out and try to get up than from the moves he’s taken. Not that Hawke isn’t doing damage with his moves as well; with Stephens having kicked out of the backbreaker the challenger brings him back to his feet, then scoops him up and bodyslams him down. The champion is handily positioned mid-ring and Hawke turns to head towards the turnbuckles… “Jay Hawke is looking to go airborne here,” Mak Francis notes, “he’s going to start taking the match to Stephens from a different angle.” Hawke reaches the top rope, spreads his arms for a second and then leaps off, plummeting towards the World Champion with a diving headbutt- *BANG!* -that totally misses! “YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “LET’S GO STE-PHENS!” “LET’S GO STE-PHENS!” Michael Stephens rolled aside away from the impact at the last moment, and now the Englishman is down on the mat trying to catch his breath. He doesn’t have long though, as despite the pain in his skull Jay Hawke is already starting to get up again, looking to ensure that his opponent can’t capitalise on that unexpected mistake. He pulls Stephens up to his feet - and Stephens tucks his head underneath Hawke’s chin, reaches up to grab his opponent and then sits out to deliver a jawbreaker! “YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Jay Hawke staggers away clutching his face; Michael Stephens collapses back to the mat. The challenger stamps one foot in pain, then turns back towards his opponent with his reactions apparently under better control. There’s an ugly glint in Hawke’s eyes as he approaches… *whump-CRACK!* “KIP-UP ENZUIGIRI!” Mak shouts as the crowd explodes again! “That seems to come from anywhere, at anytime; it’s so hard to predict, and that’s what makes it so dangerous!” It’s Michael Stephens who pushes himself up off the mat first this time, and the Englishman grabs Jay Hawke before the challenger has time to recuperate, then Irish whips his opponent into the ropes. Hawke swings woozily for a clothesline as he rebounds but Stephens ducks under, then reaches up to grab his opponent as if for a neckbreaker before twisting around and sitting out, driving Jay’s face into the canvas with the Pressure Drop! Now it’s Stephens’ turn to roll his opponent over and apply a cover… ONE! TWO!! …and it’s Jay Hawke’s turn to kick out! “LET’S GO STE-PHENS!” “LET’S GO STE-PHENS!” Stephens doesn’t want to waste any time either now he’s back on the right track, and the man from Nottingham brings Jay Hawke back up to his feet and places him in a front facelock, then extends his right arm out to the side. Half a second later he’s whipping it around and down, ready to drive Hawke’s face into the mat with the Unfinished Business… …and half a second after that Hawke has wriggled out and back, and trapped the arm on its way down in a chickenwing! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” All is not lost; Stephens immediately starts firing back elbows with his left arm which catch Hawke on the jaw and cause him to release his hold; with that approach having worked Stephens delivers a back elbow with his right arm as well… RIGHT! LEFT! RIGHT! LEFT! Michael Stephens winds up like a baseball pitcher, then spins around… DISCUS CLOTHESLINE! “YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Michael Stephens is on a roll now, and he hauls up a glassy-eyed Jay Hawke before placing the challenger into a standing headscissors. A faint squeak of protest emerges from King as the World Champion underhooks both arms, but before the Gambling Man can move onto allegations of neck-breaking moves Stephens proves him wrong by hoisting Hawke UP… …AROUND… …AND… …DOWN! *BANG!* “Stephens Shock Syndrome!” Mak shouts, “and Michael Stephens could have won it here!” Mike rolls Hawke onto his back, then hooks the leg and makes sure he stacks as much weight as possible onto his opponent’s shoulders… ONE! TWO!! TH- -but Hawke kicks out! Stephens brings the Dean upright once more and Irish whips him into the nearest set of turnbuckles, then runs in after him and launches himself into the air for an avalanche. However, something in the impact must have jolted Hawke into life because the challenger gets his boot up at the last moment and Stephens crashes into it, then drops to the canvas! “JAY HAWKE SUCKS!” “JAY HAWKE SUCKS!” “That was a quick-thinking and completely legal move to change the momentum of the match,” King splutters, “why are these morons abusing Jay Hawke?” “While I agree with your evaluation of that move,” Mak replies, “I happen to agree with them about the nature of Michael Stephens’ opponent!” Something more than mere survival instinct has now flashed on behind Jay Hawke’s eyes; you don’t get to be a successful ten-year veteran without recovering your faculties quickly, and the challenger can see that he has an opportunity to put this match away. He boosts himself up to the second rope and takes a seat on the top buckle for a moment to await his moment as Stephens comes up to his feet, then Hawke launches himself into the air like his namesake. However, a real hawk probably wouldn’t grab someone’s head and somersault over them to bring them down to the mat with a Blockbuster! *BANG!* “Look out!” Mak shouts, “that could do it!” The Alberquerque Convention Center holds its collective breath as Jay Hawke makes the cover and Matthew Kivell counts… ONE! TWO!! TH- -but Stephens kicks out! “YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Jay Hawke looks up at the SWF’s senior official in apparent disbelief, but Kivell remains firm. Hawke shakes his head angrily, then suddenly grabs Stephens and hauls him up to his feet before taking the champion’s right arm in a firm grip. From there he raises his own right arm, then brings his elbow down hard, again and again and again! “JAY HAWKE SUCKS!” “It may look like Jay Hawke has lost it,” Mak says, “but there’s a method; he’s attacking Stephens’ arm, presumably to set up for the Wing Span! King, I don’t think the challenger wants any more frustrations in his bid to win the World Title!” “And who can blame him!?” King asks, “c’mon Jay, you take him apart!” Hawke delivers one final elbow, then simply scoops up Stephens over one shoulder as if for a powerslam, but instead Hawke drops to one knee and further punishes Stephens with a shoulderbreaker! “That’ll do it!” King crows. Hawke thinks so too. As Stephens staggers to his feet holding his right arm Hawke darts in and quickly pins the wounded limb up behind his opponent’s back in a chickenwing, then reaches round to lock in the crossface… …but Stephens gets his left arm up to block it, then quickly reaches back and grabs Jay Hawke’s head… …and starts running for, thenup the turnbuckles. “No way!” Mak Francis breathes. In the words of Bill & Ted: Yes way. *BANG!* “YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “SUNNY IN ENGLAND!” Mak yells as Stephens completes his backflip, forcing Hawke to release the chickenwing as he does so, and drives the back of his opponent’s skull into the canvas, “Jay Hawke’s road to the title just took a major detour!” Stephens is holding his right arm to his side. Jay Hawke just isn’t moving much. Slowly, very slowly, Stephens rolls over to drape his good left arm across Hawke’s body… ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! “THAT WAS THREE!” “THAT WAS THREE!” “I hate to argue with the good people of Alberquerque, but I think that actually was two!” Mak Francis is forced to admit, “Jay Hawke just, just kicked out!” “C’mon Jay, get up!” King shouts, too worried to put any spin on events. Falcon is worried too. Hawke’s manager is near enough beside herself at ringside, and as an exhausted Stephens starts to get to his feet ahead of her man she actually enters the ring, seeking to position herself between Hawke and his opponent for long enough to give Jay time to recover. Stephens hasn’t even noticed but Kivell does, and instantly jumps in to try and herd Falcon away. That does catch Stephens’ attention and he starts to look around… …but his attention is caught by a figure coming down the entranceway. Small and slight for a wrestler, with long brown hair and baggy shorts. And the SWF Cruiserweight Title. “Wha- that’s Zyon!” Mak Francis exclaims at about the same time as the majority of the crowd realise the same thing, “what’s Zyon doing out here?” Stephens doesn’t know either, but he doesn’t seem impressed. The Englishman focuses on the new arrival and says something; the ring mics don’t pick it up clearly, but it’s obvious he wants an answer. Zyon’s response seems terse, and Stephens doesn’t react well to people being terse when he’s angry and in pain… “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” …and suddenly Zyon points past Stephens, to where a new figure has crept through the crowd and entered the ring. Kivell is busy holding back the near-hysterical Falcon, and doesn’t know. Stephens doesn’t know. But as he turns around, he does know. Just a second to late to do anything about it. *WHAM!* “SPEAR!” Mak shouts, “Spear from GABRIEL DRAKE! He’s interfered in a Michael Stephens title match AGAIN!” Drake rolls out of the ring the moment after impact and ducks down behind the ring apron, wary in case Kivell should turn around. As it is the referee is just finishing removing Falcon from the ring, and when he does turn around all he can see is Michael Stephens down on the mat, clutching his ribs. He knows Hawke didn’t do anything because he had him in view all the time… …his gaze lights on Zyon, holding the Cruiserweight Title. The Unique Youth looks back up at him, expression difficult to read. And Kivell angrily points to the back. “What?” Mak Francis says in shock as Zyon’s face falls, then twists into anger, “I mean, I don’t know what business Zyon had out here, but he didn’t do anything! It was Drake!” Gabriel Drake has risked a glimpse over the side of the ring and, seeing Kivell otherwise engaged, hops over the guardrail and leaves the same way he came. Meanwhile, Falcon’s desperate urgings have now brought Jay Hawke round and the challenger pushes himself up onto all fours, then peers across the ring to see Michael Stephens prone on his back. All in all it seems like too good an opportunity to risk, but he daren’t go for the Wing Span again. And that just leaves one option. “It looks like Jay Hawke’s going up top one more time,” Mak says as the Dean staggers to the buckles and begins to climb, “he’s missed once and scored once when going high risk, will the third time be the charm?” Hawke reaches the top rope. He checks behind him quickly to see if Michael Stephens is still there, then faces out at the crowd and spreads his arms. This has got to be spot-on. He jumps. It looks like a moonsault at first, but then he tucks his knees in and rotates a little further, landing exactly where he planned to- *CRUNCH!* -except that Michael Stephens is no longer there. “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “HAWKE SWOOP MISSES!” Mak roars over the noise of the crowd, while Jay Hawke clutches his legs in the ring, “surely Michael Stephens can still win this, despite Drake’s interference!” Michael Stephens staggers to his feet. He looks around him, slightly wild-eyed. On the outside there’s Falcon, at his feet there’s Hawke. Up the ramp he sees Zyon, backing away while still watching the action in the ring. Somewhere he knows Gabriel Drake is lurking, even if he can’t see him. Michael Stephens is tired, and most of him hurts like hell. For the second time in two weeks he’s had someone interfere in one of his matches to try and make him lose a title. Fuck this shit. Stephens reaches down and grabs Jay Hawke, then hauls the Dean upright. Hawke staggers, barely able to stand after he drove his knees into the mat. Stephens delivers a headbutt for good measure, then hooks Hawke as if for a vertical suplex. However, most vertical suplexes also feature hooking your opponent’s left leg with your left arm. “Wait, that’s the-” Mak begins. Yes, it is. Mike’s right arm might kill, but that more of a stabiliser. His left has enough strength left to keep its grip as he muscles Jay Hawke’s 215lbs up into the air… …holds him there for a second… …twists, and drops. *BAM!* “YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “-CAFFEINE BOMB!” Francis finishes. The pinning cradle is inherent to the move. ONE! TWO!! THREE!!! *DING-DING-DING!* Stephens releases and slumps backwards as ‘Rookie’ rings out, instinctively massaging his right arm with his left hand. Falcon leaps back into the ring to check on Hawke while Kivell, ever mindful of these things, makes sure to keep himself between the valet and the victorious but vulnerable Stephens. “Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner and STILL~ SWF World Heavyweight Champion,” Funyon booms, “MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-CHAEL… STEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-PHENS!!” “A travesty!” King shouts, “an absolute miscarriage of justice, Francis! Jay Hawke was the better man!” “Jay Hawke was good, there’s no doubt about it,” Francis argues, “but on this occasion Michael Stephens came out on top! We don’t know how events would have played out if Drake hadn’t got involved; would Hawke have gone for such a high-risk move if Stephens hadn’t have already been down? Would he have even got a chance to, would Stephens have put him away right after the Sunny In England? We don’t know, but what we do know is that issues are far from over between the World Champion and Gabriel Drake… and possibly between Stephens and Zyon as well! But for now, thanks for joining us for LOCKDOWN~!” The last image of Lockdown shows Michael Stephens wearily leaning against the ring ropes with his two titles in his hands, looking first up the ramp where Zyon has now disappeared, and then around at the crowd. FADE OUT Edited December 1, 2006 by Ace309 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
