SWF presents... GENESIS IX!!!!

[King Cucaracha 0]

The SWF Presents...

GENESIS ~IX~



Live ON PAY PER VIEW from the BI-LO Center, Greenville, South Carolina, 7pm EST Friday 26th September 2008!

Another year has rolled around, and once more the stars of the SWF are ready to do battle in the biggest event of the year, the one that started it all off, Genesis! The fed's eighth year has been an odd one, an innovative one, one with perhaps less commercial success than we used to have back in the days of television deals, but where new faces have come to the fore - some new in truth, others with a newfound passion and will to win. What does this ninth installment of the greatest wrestling show in the SWF have in store for us? Only time will tell...


SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE
'The Maori Badass' Va'aiga© vs 'The Mad Scientist Of The Mat' Michael Alexander
It was early 2004 when Va'aiga last held the World Title, but at Ground Zero the Maori stepped up and fulfilled his destiny by once again beating the Champion at his own game; instead of a King's Road match against Danny Williams it was a Hell In A Cell against probably the SWF's most dangerous competitor in a no-rules environment, the Insane Luchador. Va'aiga came through that one OK, but now he faces a new and entirely different challenge - the man Rickmen beat for that title in the first place, Michael Alexander.

Where has Alexander been since his loss? We're not entirely sure, but what we know is that he's back and on the trail of glory once more. As the breakout star of 2007 Alexander always promised greatness, but his hold on it once he achieved it by dethroning Toxxic at Clusterfuck 2008 was relatively short-lived. The former champion was worthy of a rematch, that much was not in doubt, but is it entirely coincidental that Alexander has waited this long to return? Has he really had other commitments, or was the Professor of Pain merely gambling on the fact that Toxxic and Landon needed a strong challenger for Genesis and wanted to see his name in lights once more?

This match is one that will cause comment and interest around the wrestling world; having been prepared for the Insane Luchador's hardcore tendencies, will Va'aiga now be ready to take on the technical genius that is Alexander? The Maori has never been the most gifted of mat wrestlers and Alexander thrives in such an environment, but will Va'aiga's massive size advantage simply be too much for the self-proclaimed Evil Genius to handle? And the crowd may factor as well; as a big man with crowd-popping offence Va'aiga has been enjoying the cheers of the fans over the last year, but will they turn against him as Alexander challenges for the gold in his hometown, or will Alexander's tendency to make enemies extend even to his fellow citizens of Greenville?



SWF TAG TEAM TITLES
TKO© vs The Breslins
TKO are now two-time SWF Tag Team Champions, and by the time Genesis rolls around it's possible they might hold the Tag Titles in the DVS as well, as they're challenging for them at Havok 2008. However, the sneaky orientals are not going to have it all their own way by any means as Leo and Luke Breslin are coming to Greenville with the intention of ruining their party.

It's difficult to know why TKO decided they hated the Breslins so much. As with so many things with TORU and KOJI, it may simply have been for the hell of it. However, the Breslin Brothers took exception to the cheating, beatdowns and backstage attacks that characterise the current Tag Champions and have set out to bring their enemies to task. As yet TKO have managed to remain one step ahead, and their most recent encounter saw Luke Breslin take a Tiger Driver onto the hood of his own car in Puerto Rico, yet still the Breslins come. Leo went to Landon Maddix and demanded (we presume with permission) that his brother's impending World Title shot from winning three straight singles matches be changed to a Tag Title shot for the both of them - Maddix agreed, and now The Breslins have TKO in their sights, at the biggest event of the year no less. Blood may be thicker than water, but it's not their own blood that Luke and Leo are looking to spill; can the brotherhood work against the SWF's most polished team since the days of Wild & Dangerous, or will TKO's experience (not to mention rule-breaking and backup from Chris Card Enterprises) win out over hot heads?



Johnny 'The Barracuda' Dangerous vs ???
What's that? Another former World Champion? No, not just any former World Champion - this is Johnny Dangerous, former three-time World Heavyweight Champion and one-half of the most decorated SWF tag team of all time. The Secret Agent returns to the fold for this most prestigious of events, one year after he lost the gold to Toxxic at Genesis for the second time. However, Johnny's opponent for tonight remains a mystery unsolvable by even the secret agent (we hope, unless Steve in Accounts has been talking when he shouldn't again). The mythological Question Mark Man, who has a pretty formiddable win-loss record over his many SWF appearances. Of course, as different people once the question mark slips, but still. As a result we can't really talk the match up much... but we have high hopes for it. VERY high hopes. We don't think you'll have seen this one coming.



TAG TEAM NUMBER ONE CONTENDERSHIP
S.I.N. & Bruner vs GTA Fight Team
S.I.N. and Mister Bruner, albeit with the help of Sir Marvelous and by fair means or foul, put away VDN at A Prelude To Grendeur in their score settling war. And they are now turning towards the belts that Dace Night and Va'aiga held until recently - the SWF Tag Team Titles. In their way stand the Canadians - Tod James Stewart and Daniel Smith, collectively known as the GTA Fight Team who dismantled DVS's Team Canada a month or so back. Even with the impressive Smith ranged against them, the overall power advantage has to go to S.I.N. and Bruner, but can Tod's veteran wiles swing the advantage back in his team's favour? One way or another, by the end of tonight we will know who will face either TKO or the Breslins for the SWF Tag Titles as we restart this division with a bang!



SWF WORLD CRUISERWEIGHT TITLE
Taiga Star© vs Spyke
There's a whole lotta history to this match. Not just the fact that Spyke is undefeated in singles matches in the SWF and is in the right weight bracket. No, you've got to remember that Spyke came over here to invade the SWF from the DVS, and was the ringleader in beating the piss out of Taiga Star. Taiga put in the performance of her SWF career so far to take the Cruiserweight Title from 'Hollywood' Spike Jenkins, but now can she stand up to the challenge of this rather more familiar foe? We all know Spyke's opinion on Taiaga, as he's been anything but subtle about letting people his opinions on anything. Taiga is a girl of few words and many knuckle sandwiches. It's the Motormouth taking on the Mighty Moose, and the Cruiserweight Title is on the line! Taiga holds the psychological advantage by way of a rather nasty KUDO Driver at A Prelude To Grandeur. Will things go her way one on one though?



NO-DISQUALIFICATION MATCH
'Hollywood' Spike Jenkins vs Divefire (Special Guest Referee - Tom Flesher)
Oh, Spike Jenkins. He won the Cruiserweight Title in the Air Raid match and then decided to crown himself as the greatest Cruiserweight ever. Who'd have ever guessed a cocky boast by a cocky man would come back to haunt him in professional wrestling! Divefire had been looking at returning and needed only the slightest encouragement from Toxxic (who's had that whole issue with Spike since the 'LSD in his Coke' event in South Africa in 2005) to take issue with Spike's claim and gatecrash the event. Toxxic and Landon decided that if Divefire could beat Spike he'd get a shot at the title - Jenkins attacked Divefire with weapons in the planned match, trying to take him out of the game for good, leading to a DQ and a technical win for Divefire, giving the Fiery Ninja a shot at the title...

...but, Jenkins no longer holds it. Taiga Star had a pre-existing shot, and when it came around she took that belt from Spike like candy from a baby. This means Divefire and Spike are fighting for nothing but pride, but since both men have plenty of this we should still get a helluva show! Divefire will still get his title shot in due course, but Spike could do a lot for his chances of another crack at the belt by taking out the Englishman tonight. And at Divefire's request, this one won't be ending early as both men can do whatever they wish with no worries about being disqualified...

...not that Tom Flesher ever paid much attention to rules in his career. The Superior One has finally, after a long investigation, been caught out on at least some of the embezzlement charges leveled against him during his time as Commissioner of the SWF. As a result he now has to do community service, which Landon and Toxxic have decided will be performed tonight by being guest referee. It's fair to say that it's unlikely he'll be given any financial responsibility anytime soon. Expect the speed of the counts to be based entirely on whether Tom can be bothered to count at all, or whether he wants to get it over and done with as soon as possible. Either way, he's still likely to call it down the middle as we doubt whether he cares enough about either competitor to try and give them an advantage.



OLD SCHOOL RULES
"The Dean Of Professional Wrestling" Jay Hawke vs. Dance Dance Dragon
A very serious chap, The Dean Of Professional Wrestling. Jay Hawke takes great pride in pro wrestling and great pride in the way HE does professional wrestling. The old-school way. So, it's fair to call he and the eccentric Dance Dance Dragon polar opposites in the way they go about their business. On returning to the SWF, Hawke got the chance to see Dragon's way up close and personal on commentary for one of his matches and he was far from impressed. So much so that he demanded a match with The Masked Dance Assassin to expose him as a joke and proceeded to injure Dragon's shoulder. Unfortunately, Hawke didn't finish the job and now the Dragon has returned. Having won under Dragon's favoured cruiserweight rules, Hawke agreed to Dragon's toe-stepped demands of a rematch (at least we think that's what he was doing), but on one condition... it would be under his terms, his rules. Old-school Rules.



Special Appearance!
Krista Isadora Duncan vs Chance Silver
The SWF has a long and illustrious history of lesbians. Whether that's something to be proud of depends on your upbringing, I guess. Fair to say, the OAOAST's Krista Isadora Duncan, is very proud of it. As proud as she is of her many achievements in life. She's a best selling author, a fitness video queen, an inductee onto The Hollywood Walk of Fame and star of the world famous FIT with KID line of exercise videos, the star of the VH1 reality show The Look Of Love, the Angle Award winning female personality of the year (and I find it funny that gets lumped in with everything else, because it's really, REALLY worthless), not to mention a four-time OAOAST Tag Team Champion who's NEVER lost a one on one match in her entire career. Which is pretty long. Plus there's a ton of other achievements and things to be proud of that OAOAST viewers will be aware of. But perhaps more than all this, she has a fearsome reputation of making anyone who steps in the ring with her or interacts with her in any way look like a complete and utter embarrassment to the human race. Like Landon Maddix at AngleSlam, for example. To be fair, Chance Silver doesn't need much help to achieve embarrassment. So we dread to think what will become of him here.



MANSON vs LDP
Two SWF veterans going at it at the SWF's premiere event. Is there anything in life better? Well... honestly, yeah, I could think of a couple of things if pushed. But it still ought to be very good. A victory for either Pete or MANSON would be a big boost to their standings in the SWF, not least a victory at Genesis. Read into that what you will...



Munich vs X-Punk
Another SWF veteran in need of a good win to make Commissioner and GM alike take notice is Munich, after an inconsitent win-loss record of late. His opponent, X-Punk, comes to us from the DVS and looks to make an impact on his first Genesis, with eyes on a successful singles run and possibly further complicating the CW Title scene by staking a claim. A win at the big show certainly wouldn't hurt either. Read into that what you will also...

[King Cucaracha 0]

The camera pans around the sold out arena, to find the fans on their feet. Hey, if you're on camera and you've paid money for a ticket, you don't want to seem blasé about it now, do you? After giving a majority of the fans their fifteen seconds of fame and the chance to hold up their crudely made banners and placards, the camera settles on the announce table, to find Mak Francis and The Suicide King, both dressed to the tens (one more than to the nines!) for the historic ocassion.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, WELCOME to GENESIS IX!" enthuses Mak. "I'm Mak Francis and besides me my broadcast partner, The Suicide King, delighted to be back with you on Pay Per View on this most historic night, the ninth edition of SWF Genesis. Can you believe it, number nine King, what an achievement this is!"

 

"That's right, Suicide King, slightly more vertical than my good partner here." King jabs. He hits early and he hits often folks. "And we're looking forward to a big one tonight!"

 

"Absolutely, all three titles on the line here tonight as well as a whole lot more besides, topped off by hometown... well, I hesitate to say hometown 'hero', it remains to be seen what kind of reaction Michael Alexander will get here tonight, although from the fans we've spoken to so far we expect he might have the popularity edge, over the World's Champion, The Maori Badass, Va'aiga."

 

"Yeah yeah... I wasn't talking about that Mak."

 

"Oh no?"

 

"No, when I said 'the big one', I meant the big payday we're gonna get once this show's in the can! It's about damn time too, straight to DVD ain't the way I roll and that's for real!"

 

"Oh boy, it's gonna be a long night..."

[King Cucaracha 0]

Longdogger Pete VS. MANSON

 

 

The house lights dim as ‘God is God’ by Juno Reactor begins. The Greenville crowd rises to their feet, strobes pulse and spotlights roam the arena, while smoke billows out over the stage.

 

“And here comes Manson into the Bi Lo Center where, in mere moments, he’ll be facing off against Longdogger Pete!”

 

“Including his time with the SJL this would be his seventh Genesis, I believe, so he’s no stranger to this kind of atmosphere, and even with his break from the SWF, neither is Pete, really.”

 

“It’s a monumental event for the both of them, no doubt, as the two grizzled veterans each look to carry to the SWF into a new year and continue to etch out their legacy.”

 

“I don’t think being here ever gets old, Mak, and no Genesis is less important than any other. You’re remembered forever for what you do at Genesis and you better go all out here if you ever want to be a big time player in the SWF.”

 

The shrouded Manson soon walks onto the scene heralding his arrival, a deluge of jeers and insults accompanying him as he begins his walk down the aisle.

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the following is a one-on-one singles bout scheduled for one fall! First, hailing from Denver, Colorado, and weighing in tonight at two hundred and twenty-five pounds… MMMAAAANNNNNSOOONNNN!”

 

He heads up the steps and enters through the ropes when the metal bat emerges from the open end of his cloak. Everyone inside retreats as Manson closes in with malicious intent, and after surveying his surroundings, he drops to his knees and crawls back into his corner. He discards the bat, dropping through the ropes and to the floor, then brushes back his hood as he stands, removes his mask and disrobes. He drops everything to the ground below, then crouches back down, ready to attack at any time, when…

 

‘OH, MY GOD! INCREDIBLE SUPERSTAR!’

 

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!*

 

A blinding white explosion erupts across the stage, the entrance filling with smoke. Pete steps out of the smoke and makes his way down to the ring, stepping slowly and deliberately in tune with his ‘Baseline’ remix by Quarashi.

 

“And his opponent, hailing from Miami, Florida, and weighing in tonight at two hundred and sixty-eight pounds… LONGDOGGER PETE!”

 

Pete meets Manson’s eyes as the latter rocks back and forth on his heels, ready for action, and cautiously slides inside, as Funyon escapes the ring.

 

“And believe it or not, as far as our records are concerned, Manson and Pete have never met each other inside the ring. Their careers have rarely been in alignment with each other, but here in Greenville at Genesis, we get to find out which of these two wrestling mainstays are better.”

 

“Well, Pete is the old, crafty vet, bigger, stronger, and maybe even more bitter than Manson. Even at this age and with the long hiatus I expect him to come out with something to prove. Meanwhile, Manson is Manson. We know what he brings to the table. He’s ruthless and unpredictable, holding nothing back, and is as amoral and chaotic as Pete aims to be, having been at it for a long, long time now. However, he has the disadvantage in size and strength, but I also hear he has something new up his sleeve that could change all the rules and throw a wrench into Pete’s ambitions.”

 

“It’s a rough go for both men, as Manson looks to rebound and launch imself back into main title contention, while Pete has been thrown to the wolves, arguably, for he must deal with Manson, attempt to become a title threat, and prove his naysayers wrong, but I’m sure both will be up to the task,” says Mak, finishing up, as Kivell calls for the bell.

 

*DING DING!*

 

Both Manson and Pete exit their corners, and while Pete immediately heads after Manson, the Messiah slinks out of harm’s way and immediately launches into a series of kicks to Pete’s legs and midsection! He forces Pete into the ropes and then lays in with a barrage of hard elbow smashes to the jaw. Grabbing Pete by the hand, he slings LDP toward the opposite side ropes, or attempts to, as Pete rocks Manson with a back elbow to the mouth. Manson stumbles back and now on the offensive, MacDougal begins to stagger Manson with overhand rights.

 

“Pete in control now and this match has been as hard hitting as was expected!”

 

MacDougal drops Manson after a final wind-up and with the help of Pete, comes up to his feet. Stumbling back into the ropes, LDP goes on pursuit, managing to send Manson to the ropes. However, as Pete lifts his leg for a big boot, Manson ducks and wraps around Pete’s back. He ducks underneath one arm and wrapping his arms around LDP’s waist, looks for a Saito suplex. Pete is too fresh, though, and sandbags him, then follows with a series of rights to the face. MacDougal breaks the hold and reaches back, wrenching him over with a snapmore, immediately following up with an elbow drop to the chest. He lays atop Manson, going for the cover, but Manson manages to get the shoulder up quickly.

 

Both Manson and LDP scramble up to their feet, where Pete dashes in behind and wraps Manson up in a waistlock. Manson runs toward the ropes, grabbing on and holding tight, but after Pete fights to pull him away, he’s forced to break his hold and the German attempt.

 

“Maybe sensing that a brawl wouldn’t get them anywhere, they each look to surprise the other with a big suplex.”

 

“They’re each so experienced, maybe more than any other in the SWF, that they each had a counter ready and wouldn’t allow the other to strike first.”

 

LDP backs away from Manson, appearing to allow him some space, but strikes with an overhand right which knocks Manson to the ground! Referee Kivell drags MacDougal away after Manson complains, but while he’s tied up with the referee, Manson takes his chance and dashes from across the ring, jumping into LDP with a knee strike! Pete falls to the ground, as an enraged Manson jumps on top of him and begins laying in elbows and alternating fists from the mount. As Pete shoves Manson off and stumbles away from him, the tenacious Raging Bull follows and continues to lay in a number of closed-fists. Finally, after gathering his bearings, Pete decides he’s had enough and thumbs Manson in the eye, then disposes of his foe by throwing him to the outside, earning himself a warning from Kivell.

 

“Manson is as aggressive as we’ve ever seen him tonight, taking it to LDP as Pete struggles to find an answer for his approach.”

 

“He must also feel he has something to prove, but he’s also never been easy to gameplan and develop a strategy for, especially when you haven’t been in the ring for a while.”

 

Manson comes up to his feet on the outside and Pete is on his trail, but as soon as he reaches down to grab Manson, the Bull drives forward and slams LDP into the edge of the apron! MacDougal, however, holds his ground and hammers Manson with forearms, eventually picking him up by his hair and throwing him into the steps! As the steps come ajar from the ring from the impact, Kivell hops outside and steps in between LDP and Manson. Pete willingly heads back into the ring, as Kivell gives Manson a breather before starting a ten count.

 

“Manson into the steel steps!”

 

“Usually I would say to beware Manson on the outside, but this time Pete turned the situation to his favor.”

 

“ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

FOUR!

 

FIVE!

 

SIX!”

 

“He’s back in!”

 

Right at seven, Manson rolls back inside the ring and comes up to a knee, when LDP brings him up and waistlocks him from behind. He heaves Manson up with ease and suplexes him over onto his shoulders, completing the German suplex, and bridging for the pinfall attempt.

 

“ONE!

 

TWO!!”

 

“Shoulder up by Manson!”

 

Pete drags Manson up to his feet and hits an overhand right, which Manson follows up by hitting a roundhouse to the leg. He follows that up with a kick to the ribs from the opposite side, followed by another few rights by LDP. Manson next hits a knife-edge chop, then another, and after a slap to the face, tries for a God Hand spinning backfist, which Pete blocks. LDP drives a knee into Manson’s ribs, halting his building momentum, and sends him off to the ropes with a whip. He goes low on the rebound and succeeds at lifting Manson up onto his shoulders, then drops back and drives Manson into the mat with a samoan drop!

 

“Big samoan drop by LDP!”

 

Again Longdogger Pete goes for a cover, hooking the leg.

 

“ONE!

 

TWO!!”

 

“He gets the shoulder up again!”

 

Pete begins to wonder when Manson will start wearing down, slapping the mat in frustration, as they both get to their feet. He closes in on Manson, but the Bull goes low, dropkicking Pete’s legs out from under him. As Pete gets to a knee, he catches a boot to the chest, the sound of the kick reverberating throughout the arena, as Pete feels his chest cave. Manson lays into Pete with another kick, and another, finally dropping him to the mat with a kick to the side of the head. Pete falls to his back and Manson dives on top for a pin attempt.

 

“ONE!

 

TWO!!”

 

“Pete with a shoulder up off that devastating roundhouse by Manson!”

 

“It sometimes amazes me what he has in his arsenal. His kicks are as hard as anyones in the SWF.”

 

LDP attempts to gather himself as he stands, staggering as he comes up to his feet, as Manson continues his attack, laying in more kicks to the legs, ribs and chest. While Pete stumbles back into the ropes, Manson closes in and grabs him by the back of the head, pulling him down and driving knees into his face. Pete goes down off a shot, then pulls himself back up with the assistance of the ropes, as Manson sends him hurtling to the opposite side. Manson waits in the center of the ring, waiting for a shot at the sit-out spinebuster, but Pete runs straight through him with a huge shoulder block!

 

“I believe Manson was going to go for his Rocky Mountain High Rydeen Bomb, but Pete puts a stop to that right quick.”

 

“We’ve seen some flashes of the Pete MacDougal of old, that’s for sure. Just when Manson thinks he has the momentum, Pete pulls something out, just as Manson has, as well.”

 

Pete brings Manson up to his feet, gripping him around the throat for a chokeslam, but Manson unleashes a kick to the side of the head as Pete lifts. He drops Manson and after an attempt at a clothesline by Pete, Manson ducks, then catches him with a spinning heel kick to the face! Pete falls to the ground, checking his jaw to see if any hinges came loose, when just as he stands, Manson rolls forward and catches him with another of his kicks, this time the rolling koppou.

 

“There’s another piece of his arsenal, the koppou kick or abisegiri, and Pete is struggling to keep up right now!”

 

Pete again stands, but is out on his feet, as Manson ducks under an arm and hooks Pete around the chest, and with his his hand on Pete’s shoulder, and the other on his waistband, Manson lifts, twists his frame and throws Pete with a uranage suplex! Pete lands clean in the center of the ring, positioned perfectly, as Manson, with his back to the ring, ascends the turnbuckle.

 

“Manson heading up after the series of kicks and a uranage suplex puts Pete out on his back!”

 

Manson leaps, using the spring of the ropes, and somersaults back, landing atop LDP with a picture perfect moonsault as Kivell counts the pin!

 

“Nice moonsault from the top! I don’t know how long it’s been since Manson pulled one of those out, but it’s to perfection, as he has Pete on the ropes now! Is this what you were hinting at, King?!”

 

“Indeed. I was informed he calls that the Guilty Sky, and as you’ve said, it must’ve been years since we’ve seen him with a moonsault.”

 

“ONE!

 

 

TWO!!!

 

 

 

 

THR-- NO!!!!!!”

 

“And Pete manages to kick out! He has some fight left in him yet!”

 

“Yeah, I thought it was done, Mak, but Pete won’t let things go that easily.”

 

Manson stands and brings Pete up, but again, Pete relies on his fists, as he lands a haymaker on Manson. He stumbles back and Pete chases, but after attempting another spinning heel kick, Pete blocks and grabs the leg. Manson next attempts an enzuigiri, but again, LDP has an answer for that, as he catches that leg and slams a defenseless Manson into the mat. Manson stands, grabbing his back, as Pete grabs Manson and underhooks one arm. He attempts to grab the other, apparently trying for his Longdogger Clogger DDT, but Manson spins out and after another low dropkick to the knees, heads for the ropes. He bounces off and extending his arm, goes for the Iron Cutting Sword, but Pete comes to his feet and boots Manson directly in the face before he can get the chance!

 

“The Longdogger Clogger was denied, but so was Manson’s Iron Cutting Sword!”

 

“That was some receipt, but now Pete has to capitalize!”

 

Pete comes up and beckons for Manson to stand, and when he does, Pete lifts him overhead into a military press!

 

“He’s going for it all with the Musclehead Slam!” shouts Mak, as Pete prepares to drop him.

 

However, Manson falls off and lands on his feet at the right moment, and knees Pete in the stomach. Pete lurches over and Manson goes behind, applying an inverted facelock and attempting to lift Pete up for the Instant Hell Murder brainbuster, but he can’t manage to bring Pete up, as he releases the hold. Pete turns and tries to grab Manson by the throat, but he evades the attempt with a kick to the ribs before Pete can grab hold. Pete reaches out and attempts to grab him again, but this time, Manson ducks and hits the ropes, rebounds and leaps, drilling him with the flying knee to the face!

 

“Manson just took LDP out with that one, I reckon.”

 

“Yes, he’s been working on that one, as well. That hard, fast knee even has an official name, straight from his mouth… the Killer Driller.”

 

Pete comes to a stop in the upper-right corner of the ring and before he can regain himself, in barrells Manson with both legs to the face! Manson heads under the bottom rope and begins climb to the top just above LPD.

 

“There’s the Brainwash by Manson!” Mak screams.

 

“No chance for the scrapes that usually precede any technique of this nature this time around, but this new double leg variation of his is just as painful as the rest!”

 

Standing above LDP on the ropes, Manson brings his thumb across the throat, calling for the end, to a round of boos, as Pete stands and finds himself in the waiting arms of Manson, with a little help from the Messiah, who grabs him by the back of the head and jumps off, driving his knee into the back of LDP’s skull as the two land on the mat below!

 

“That… That was the Ego Trip, King!” Mak screams, as Kivell begins the count after Manson rolls Pete over.

 

“ONE!!!!!”

 

“We know Manson and Tom are Best Friends Forever, at least according to Manson, and the Dream Killer, which I guess it’s called, is a fitting tribute.”

 

“TWO!!!!!!”

 

“You have the inside scoop on him, it seems… the Guilty Sky, Killer Driller and Dream Killer… but whatever they’re called, they all add up to the end of this match!”

 

“THREE!!!!!!!!!”

 

*DING DING!*

 

“Your winner,” booms Funyon, as ‘God is God’ begins, “by pinfall… MMMAAAANNNNSOOOONNNNNNNNNN!”

 

“And it’s all over!” says Mak. “And it seems like a brand new Manson here tonight at Genesis.”

 

“You must give it to Pete, who put up a hell of a fight, but whatever Manson has been doing, it’s working. Like the name implies, a new beginning, perhaps.”

 

“The end result is a W for Manson, but things are far from over here, because we have more coming up here at Genesis IX!”

[King Cucaracha 0]

EARLIER THIS WEEK

 

Sometime between A Prelude To Grandeur and Genesis (we'll call it 'a little closer to grandeur'... no wait, that sucks... ah man, but now I've typed it already... ah, screw it), we find ourselves in the dual Toxxic/Maddix headquarters that is their Commissioner's/General Manager's office. Megan's there too, but is perpetually overlooked. Landon has just arrived in the room and looking a little tired, he slumps in his chair behind his desk. Taking a look at his 'In' pile, he sighs and moves it out of his eyeline.

 

"So you handled everything with Krista I take it?"

 

"Yep, no problem." smiles Toxxic.

 

"Excellent. And you booked her in that match at Genesis, against..."

 

"Chance Silver, yep."

 

Landon's eyes widen a little.

 

"No, that... that wasn't the match."

 

"Yeh, well, surprisingly she didn't go for the whole handicap match idea. So we renegotiated and we agreed it'd be better all round if she wrestled Chance Silver. Since the chances of getting her in for any length of time are slim at best, I figure we just give her a showcase and let her be on her merry way. That a problem?"

 

"No." Landon says through gritted teeth. "No, I... agree. I take it that's been reflected in the pay."

 

"Yeah, we renegotiated that as well. I figured 10% was fair."

 

"...you mean 10% reduction, right?"

 

Waiting for some sign of acknowledgement to form on Toxxic's face, Landon sinks sadly as all he sees is a smirk.

 

"You gave her an extra 10% on TOP of what I promised her!?"

 

"Hey, she's a demanding lass, what can I say?"

 

Landon throws his hands up in the air in exasperration. "This is just fantastic! Not only do we bring her in against totally inappropriate 'competition', to the point that I have to make these air quotes with my fingers everytime I say 'competition', we're now paying her a ridiculous amount of money to do it, even more ridiculous than the ridiculous sum I had to promise just to get her involved in the first place! This is just... just..."

 

"Ridiculous?" Toxxic helpfully finishes.

 

"What the hell were you thinking!? I know Krista's good at the sweet talking to get her own way, but come on man! I thought you gays and lesbians all hated each other!"

 

Toxxic chuckles under his breath at the cheapshot.

 

"Well normally we do, but truth be told, she gave me some tickets to a Kylie concert and... I dunno... after that, I just got blinded by this big... pink light and couldn't say no to anything she asked."

 

Having dripped so much sarcasm in one go, Toxxic has to sit down on the desk, while Landon seems to be mulling everything over.

 

"...how many tickets?" he asks hopefully, causing Toxxic to facepalm himself.

 

[King Cucaracha 0]

Krista Isadora Duncan VS. Chance Silver

 

 

How does it feel in my arms?

 

With Kylie Minogue's "In My Arms" comes a gigantic roar from an audience that rises up out their seat, Brilliant flashes of red, yellow, green and blue, decorate the entrance stage as the lights bath it in all the colours of the rainbow. Showing that Landon spares no expense even for people he hates, a red carpet is rolled out to blanket the length of the ramp. Through vibrant collection of colorful lights, steps one vibrant beauty, Krista Isadora Duncan. The already loud roar grows even louder, as Krista strikes a ready for the catwalk pose, with her head turned over her shoulder, and her bubblegum pinks beaming an arresting smile to the camera.

 

Down the red carpet struts Krista, with the audience snapping pictures as though they were paparazzi at the VMA's. Krista is more than happy to show off her Python print boots, and matching mini skirt, halter top and headband with a series of picturesque poses. To authenticate the red carpet experience she even goes Cameron Diaz on one fan and smashes his camera to pieces.

 

Not caring that Krista just assaulted a fan for fun, Mak is rather excited for her arrival, "Its great to have Krista back in the SWF, after watching her for so long in the OAOAST! And what better show to have one of the biggest stars in Hollywood at then at the biggest show of the year, Genesis!"

 

King snorts, "Did anyone stop to ask how this woman, who ruined our chances of getting a TV contract, can be afforded? She comes with a hairdresser, an assistant hairdresser, two makeup artists, a dress fitter, a publicist, a personal assistant, a personal assistant to the personal assistant, a tanning specialist, and her own director of photography. What are we sacrificing for this woman? All I know is that my contract specifically states my dressing room is to be outfitted with a biscuit and Welch's grape juice. If I find Juicy Juice in my refrigerator, I walk. Swear to god."

 

"Ladies and gentlemen this contest is scheduled for one fall!" Funyon shouts. "Hailing from Los Angeles, California, she is a best selling author, a fitness queen, an inductee into the Hollywood Walk of Fame and star of the world famous FIT with KID line of exercise videos in addition to being the star of the VH1 reality show The Look of Love, she is the OAOAST's Miss Money In The Bank please welcome back to the SWF…"MISS CALIFORNIA"... KRISTA ISADORAAAAAA DDUUUUUUUUUUUNNCAN!!!!

 

"Landon wanting two things in this match. Revenge on Krista for his loss at OAOAST Angleslam and a major spike in pay per view buys and publicity. He's definitely going to get the latter with Krista on the show, but he's not going to get the former with her fighting Chance Silver. No offense to The Paladin, but um...yeah. I'm not sure what Landon was thinking."

 

"The same thing as always. Nothing!" King shouts then laughs to himself.

 

Krista cruises across the ring apron with a long arrogant strut and a small smirk towards her adoring fans. She slides between the ropes in the most slow and bent over way possible, showcasing her gorgeous legs just for her "number one fan, Landon!"

 

Chance Silver lacks entrance music, thus I deem it both a privilege and a duty to serve my country and select it for him. Sussudio by legendary songsmith Phil Collins pours out the speakers as two white spot lights shine on either side of the curtains. Tearing through these curtains is the mysterious Paladin. Clad in his long black leather pants, Silver drops to his knees and offers a prayers to the gods for strength and guidance in the match to come. He then tilts his head back, sending his braided hair bouncing through the air, as the spotlights hover over him to give him a radiant almost angelic quality.

 

"And her opponent! He comes to the SWF from the edge of reality! He is The Paladin Chance Silver!"

 

A smattering of boos from the audience trails Funyon's announcement. But the small and decidedly negative reaction does not distress Silver, and he promises the front row fans he will continue to be their loyal shield against the evil of the human condition. The audience isn't terribly enamored with this promise and is even less receptive to Silver removing his leather jacket and striking the Christ in rio pose at the edge of entrance ramp.

 

"I'm not sure how much respect anyone has for Chance Silver." Mak wonders aloud. "But, I'm willing to bet Krista will have eroded it by the two minute mark in this match."

 

"You're assuming it actually goes two minutes, which would be a miracle. Chance Silver should look on the bright side, how often do you get your ass kicked by someone with a star on the walk of fame? In celebrity obsessed America, that's quite an honor. I bet he could be a guest on Chelsea Lately. Or a celebrity tanner on Sunset Tan just off getting beat up by Krista."

 

"When I was a child, my parents sold me to 20th Century Fox so Julie Andrews could beat me on the set of the Sound of Music whenever she felt stressed."

 

Chance Silver slides into the ring, where with great pride he announces his credo to the world, "To those who are diseased of either the mind or the soul, within those torn by injustice and faithfulness, I stand. For I’m faith, for I’m the light which of justice and death to those who oppose me!"

 

Usually a tough nut to crack, Krista is fairly impressed and turns to referee Sexton Hardcastle, "Honey, he's adorable. How much do you want for him?"

 

"He's not a pet, he's a person. He's your opponent for tonight."

 

"Listen, my amigo, I told my daughters I'd be coming back home with a nice cute puppy, so you either get McGruff the Crime Dog into a pet taxi or I'll see you at the Petsmart in Culver City for your neutering and flea collar fitting."

 

"I think we can let you have him for free!"

 

"Quiet, nonbeliever!" Silver sternly rebukes Hardcastle. "Madam Krista, I find your physical features to be suitable for mating and reproduction as well as sexual gratification. Referee Hardcastle, you will have my hand in victory, but I will have this wench's hand in marriage!"

 

"Oh, honey, this dog is just darn clever! He even barks like he's people. How did you teach him that? My maids are human and the only thing they can say in English is 'Miss Krista quit shooting at us, we're sorry we tried to run away!' "

 

Being compared to a canine, even one that speaks english, does not sit overly well with Silver, and the white knight charges across the ring at his foe. He raises his arm for a lariat, but Krista quickly ducks bellow it and he goes rushing by. Silver's white boots screech to a halt, and with frustration playing on his face, he whirls around to catch Krista with a boomerang clothesline. However, the Hollywood Starlet is a hair faster than him and leaves him flat on his back with a spinning wheel kick. Nursing a wounded face, Silver scrambles back upright. But he has little chance to capitalize on his quick ascent as Krista's moneymaking legs overtake him with a hurricanrana. After shaking the cobwebs out his head, The Paladin slaps the mat in furious disgust. Though he's more angered about his carefully braided hair being ruined than his poor performance thus far. Krista only adds to his problems by flipping overhead and slamming a leg drop onto his neck!

 

"The people from the Edge of Reality may not know anything about wrestling, but I'll be damned if they can't braid some hair. I wonder if they could do me up a nice french braid." King comments, obviously struggling for something nice to say about Chance Silver.

 

"KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA!"

 

Silver hastily scurries upright, only to have a $2,000 python print boot come screaming towards his head. Fortunately, he catches onto her foot before she can punt his noggin into the third row. Unfortunately, her talkative nature distracts him from the task at hand.

 

"Hey, Chance, do you have any superpowers? Because I do. I have the acute ability to know when someone is going to die right down to the exact microsecond. Unfortunately, I have chronic fatigue syndrome, so whenever I get ready to warn them I get really tired and fall asleep and they die. But on the plus side, I have anti-social mood disorders and extreme narcissistic personality disorder so I don't really care."

 

"I have the power to save the world from the approaching apocalypse." Chance deadpans. Apparently saving the world from doom doesn't hold much weight in Krista's book and she levels the enigmatic superstar with an enziguri. Watching him flip head over heels and gracelessly splatter on the mat, she wonders how's he's going to fight the Antichrist at the Battle of Armageddon if he can't even block an enziguri from a single mother of two.

 

"I don't think anyone expects Chance to win this match, but at the very least preserve your self respe...." King realizes what he's saying and softens his tone, "Well preserve your nice braids, man. "

 

Just eager to preserve his consciousness, The Paladin crawls towards the corner to catch his breath. However, KID doesn't allow any moment for a breather and stalks his position. She climbs to the second rope, then leaps off it in hopes of connecting with a dropkick to his face. But, desperate to protect those beautiful braids, Silver raises his boots in defense. They connect perfectly with Krista's bare stomach and send her crashing backwards to the canvas. Although, Krista's abs could probably deflect bullets, she looks to be in enough distress for Silver to hook her leg for a fall.

 

ONE!

 

Krista kicks out well before the two count, drawing a large roar from the sold out audience. Less pleasing to the South Carolina fans is the sight of Silver hammering her legs with a series of stomps. Hearing her pained cries etches a smile onto his face, and he seeks to increase her agony by trapping her into a leglock. His goal is already well on its way to succeeding, as she hollers in misery while her face twists with the pain.

 

"KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA!" the audience rallies around Krista, trying to get her to fight out of the deadly submission hold.

 

"You want to talk about lifestyles of the rich and famous, those legs Silver is targeting are insured for ten million dollars." Mak states.

 

King sighs with romantic wonderment, "I wonder if Silver's braids are insured for ten million. I'd pay ten million just to smell them. Just to hold them against my naked chest, caress their every pain and sadness away, and sing to them. Sing to them like its the last song the world will ever hear."

 

Krista's legs are shot through with paralyzing anguish, enough to force a full throated scream from her mouth. But, never one to give in, she bites her lip and steels herself against the pain. As Silver further tightens the hold and the agony continues to mount, she hammers his legs with repeated fists in a frantic bid to escape.

 

The audience increases the noise of their chants, "KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA!"

 

Their support finally seems to pay dividends, as their heroine now frantically pecks away at Silver's limbs. Unable to endure her strikes, the white knight releases his hold. Free of the submission, both competitors hop to their feet at the same moment. Yet its Silver who strikes first with a knife edge chop to Krista's voluptuous chest. As she's not terribly hurt by that attack for obvious reasons, Silver is forced to resort to an unpaladin like swipe of her blue eyes. Momentarily blinded, the blond bombshell stumbles back into the corner. As the audience boos his questionable tactics, Silver further draws their ire by rifling several closed fists into her face.

 

"Chance Silver is targeting Krista's Hollywood looks right now." Mak states the obvious.

 

King sneers, "It'll be hard to make any People Magazine's Most Beautiful people list if she let's him keep going on like this."

 

Realizing this, Miss California summons enough strength to shove her punch-happy rival away.

 

Back on his marriage kick Silver points to Krista and shouts, "You will be my wife! If not by law, then certainly by practice!"

 

"He stole that line from Titanic." Mak informs us, shaking his head. "What kind of emissary of the faith steals lines from Kate Winslett movies?"

 

"One with damn fine hair, and an appreciation for a long winded romantic drama."

 

The silver haired fighter comes flying across the ring at Krista with a body splash. But she's recovered enough of her strength and her sight to slide out the way. Thus Silver is left to suffer through a painful stomach first crash into the ring posts, and he screams bloody murder as the fans loudly cheer his misfortune. While Silver tries to settle his queasy stomach, the babe from LA bounces off the ropes. But when she comes back Silver tightens his hands around her slender waist and then throws her into the sky for a flapjack! However that move does him more harm than good as Krista, laces her lovely tan legs around Silver's neck and dizzies him with a crowd popping hurricanrana! But,just soon as he hits the canvas does The Paladin leap to his feet. This is certainly an ill advised course of action as Krista clamps her arms across his neck. Blinded by her flowing golden locks, and nearly strangled to the point of suffocation, Silver is easily victimized by the Blonds Never Pay a Cover (side effect)! The fans are delighted, and scream their cheers at the top of their lungs.

 

Krista turns to Hardcastle and says, "Honey, everytime I bat my eyelashes Landon has to pay me a hundred dollars. Watch. 100. 200. 300. 400. 500. 600, now we're into overtime bonuses."

 

"Landon has to be throwing a fit backstage!" Mak exclaims.

 

Despite enduring one of Kris' signature holds, Silver manages an unsteady rise. But Krista pounces on him with lightening quick shots to his stomach. After the fourth kick connect she latches onto his wrist and attempts to throw him into the ropes. However, Silver calls upon a miraculous burst of energy and reverses the hold to send Krista trotting towards the ropes. As she returns, Silver leaps into the sky to cut her down with a side kick. However, she's rolls bellow his approaching leg and he sails harmlessly past. She isn't entirely out of danger though due to Silver closing in on her with a lariat the moment he lands.

 

"Wait!" She shouts and brings her opponent to a halt. "You can't hit me, honey. The wind spirit of the planet, uh...." Krista notices Silver's wristbands, "Wristbandamor said to leave me alone."

 

"You do not know of the wind spirt of the planet Wristbandamor!"

 

"I do so. He was my lab partner in biology at UCLA. And then he dropped the class, and he I had to partner with some Korean girl."

 

"What does the wind spirt of the planet Wristbandamor look like?" Chance questions sharply.

 

"Oh honey, I think he has a fauxhawk. The better question is, why am I still sober and how do YOU know the wind spirt?"

 

"We worked together at Pier 1. He was the stock supervisor and I was a seasonal worker. They appreciated my work ethic and ability to take direction, but said I wouldn't be needed past the holidays."

 

"Pier 1, eh, honey. That's real great, because I was trying to build a pier at my Malibu home to ship and receive cheap immigrant labor, but guess what? You don't sell even one pier at Pier 1. Next time save me the trip to Manhattan Beach and name your store useless wicker crap."

 

That just about seals Chance's fate as the unsatisfied customer comes charging at him. Silver offers her a weak lariat in defense which she effortlessly avoids by baseball sliding through his legs. Eager to get a bead on the celebrity beauty, Silver turns around only to find her lionsaulting figure descending upon him! He tries to step out the way, but its a wasted effort as Miss California catches hold of his neck and brings him down with an inverted DDT! The fans explodes with a huge a pop, as pain explodes all over Silver's body.

 

"Get up, Chance!" King pleads. "Landon is to young to have a heart attack, and you're giving him one."

 

Back onto her feet is Krista waiting patiently for Silver to rise. Patience, however, is something that's in eternally short supply for Krista, and she quickly grows annoyed with The Paladin's struggles. Thus to entertain herself, Krista begins speaking in the hushed tones of a sports announcer, "Team Krista is the cinderella story of this year's intergalactic women's world cup...the intergalactic making the world sound unnecessary but I have two masters degrees and you don't so shut it...tournament. If team captain Krista Isadora Duncan can make this shot they'll take the championship."

 

Right as Silver finally begins to lift himself off the mat, KID attempts to take his head off with a running kick. But, the white knight, acting solely on instinct, catches onto her expensive footwear and avoids certain doom. Hastily, he drops her to the canvas, and with his arm snaked around one snakeskin boot tries to turn her over for a boston crab. The fitness queen refuses to allow this and uses her free leg to punt Silver in the stomach. Hobbled by crippling pain, Silver is forced to let Krista go free and attend to his wounds.

 

"See, if he just had invested in the $24.99 it costs for one of Krista's fitness videos, or the $75.99 for her ab toner, available exclusively on QVC, he'd be okay right now and he'd look great naked." Mak chastises The Paladin.

 

Before Silver has a second to recover, The GLAADiator tightens her arm around his neck and takes him for a dizzying ride with tornado DDT! Silver's head smacks off the canvas and an alarmed and tortured gasp immediately spills from his mouth.

 

"KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA!" the capacity crowd sings to their heroine as she happily bows before their admiration.

 

Slowly, and with a throbbing headache, The Paladin tries to bring himself upright to begin staging some offense. But his attack hopes come to a standstill as Krista's hypnotizing buns of steel jiggile lusciously in front of him! The fans are all smiles, and Silver is to. That is until his toothsome grin, loses a few teeth courtesy of her heel slashing through his face. After Silver plummets back to the canvas, the walk of famer lands a picture perfect moonsault onto him. Hardcastle drops to the ground to count the ensuing fall...

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

Somehow Silver manages to kickout, greatly displeasing the crowd in the process. While the referee waves two fingers to the booing fans, the paladin slowly staggers upright. But just as soon he reaches a vertical base, he's brought back to the canvas by a leg sweep from the Hollywood starlet. Moving with incredible speed, Krista takes hold of his legs and leaps into the air for a leg drop. But, Silver is well prepared for this move, and counters by sitting up and shocking her with a rollup! As the audience sits dismayed by this unexpected counter, Hardcastle scores the fall...

 

ONE!

 

Another fast kickout by Krista gives the fans something to cheer about and Silver something to whine about.

 

"I'm not sure why Silver is trying argue, he only got a one count. But then again I'm not even sure why Chance Silver is alive in the first place. God is cruel. Very cruel." Mak laments.

 

Taking Krista's sunstroke hair between his long fingers, the paladin guides her off the canvas. She struggles to break free of his grip, but these efforts are made infinitely more difficult when he takes her into a 3/4th facelock. Without pause, Silver falls to the mat and snaps her neck off his shoulder with a neckbreaker. Leaving, Krista to grouse about how a sore neck is going to screw up her yoga class, Silver quickly ascends to the top rope.

 

Feeling clear of danger, Silver deems it safe to espouse his philosophies on life. Enlighten us, oh he with silver hair. "There's a distant thunder drawing nearer and nearer, rolling across the vast waste land of outer space, maybe you can't see it, Krista Isadora Duncan, my blushing bride to be, because your view is blocked by the cheap facades of Hollywood imagery! You are safe, but the rest of the world best prepare itself because this silver thunder is ready to rain down terror and hell upon all evil that oppose it! It is I The Paladin that walks in the..."

 

"Honey, you have this weird white crap on your lips."

 

More concerned with white crap than raining terror and hell, Silver starts wiping at his lips. This gives the GLAADiator the opportunity she needs to run up the top rope and latch onto Silver's head. Instantly Silver begins fighting against her clutches, putting forth a mammoth effort to get the vexing vixen away from him. Krista claws down on his exotic silver hair, steadfastly refusing to be pushed away before she's executed her high risk move.

 

Mak sits on the edge of his seat, watching Krista and Silver fight it out "The Paladin fighting for dear life, here! If he can pull off this upset, think what it would do for his career? It would give him one for starters!"

 

Finally the strength advantage of the 245 pounder wins out and he manages to push Krista back down to the mat where she luckily comes down on her heels. Though unable to bring down her enemy, Miss Money In The Bank takes away the lovely parting gift of several of Chance's braids!

 

"Hair extensions!" Mak exclaims, as the audience recoils in stunned horror.

 

"Is there no light of truth in the dark void of professional wrestling?" King cries as he falls to his knees, the weight of such a revelation leaving him crippled and hoarse.

 

"Hair extensions? This is even more embarrassing then when I accidently ripped off Shannon Doherty's dress at the cable ace awards and I realized I was at the cable ace awards. And talking to Shannon Doherty." Krista says and then tosses the hair away like it was little more than a candy wrapper

 

His secret shame revealed to world, Silver can do nothing more but shed the tears of an immeasurable sadness. This, of course, doesn't concern Krista, who charges back up the ropes and leaps into him with a dropkick! The tremendous impact of the strike propels him from the turnbuckles and causes him to crash into the canvas bellow!

 

"Silver taking quite the crash right there!" Mak shouts watching The Paladin grasp onto his sore face and shout out in pain.

 

Krista gives the fans a bootyrific eyeful, hunching over to await Silver's rise. When he finally manages to stand, she rushes him for her inverted lung blower finisher. But, he uses the last ounce of strength left in his body to side step her and shove her into the ropes. Dizzied, he turns around to meet her rebound only to have her knees pressed against his chest and her arms wrapped around his head. Gravity sucks them both back downwards, where every bit of breath and energy is ripped straight out of Silver's body as her legs crash through his chest!

 

"YEAAAAAA!"

 

Mak shouts over the roaring audience, "The KIDology! That's the move she used to finish off Landon!"

 

With all the life totally removed from Silver's body, Krista casually drapes her arm across his wounded chest. Hardcastle hits the mat to score a fall with the fans counting along...

 

"ONE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"THREE!"

 

The camera pans across an audience that erupts with a mammoth and wild cheer for Krista's all too easy victory.

 

Kylie Minogue's "In My Arms" joins with the audience in drowning out in Funyon's announcement, "The winner of this contest, as a result of pinfall, KRISTA ISADORA DUNCAN!"

 

"Krista with a win here at Genesis!" Mak shouts with a genuine enthusiasm. "Landon still has a chance to get back at her in a way at OAOAST Zero Hour this Sunday when Megan Skye faces Krista's daughter Jade for the OAOAST Women's title. But tonight, the victory belongs to Miss California!"

 

Krista smiles broadly, in part because she added another victory to her impressive record, and in part because a ringside attendant just handed her a martini. Its stipulated in her contract rider, see. Krista then stands on the second rope and leans forward to give a wonderful peek down her shirt that she dedicates to "my precious Little Maddy"

 

"Do you hear that? That's the sound of Landon throwing his TV through the wall." Mak chuckles.

 

"Landon couldn't throw a Barbie doll with a rocket launcher. Look what he's done to us. He caves into the cult of celebrity, brings in Krista to spike PPV buys after she defeated him and ruined our chances of getting back on TV. And now she severely injures our top star on our biggest show."

 

"Chance Silver is not our top star, and she didn't severely injure anything besides his ego."

 

"It makes her sound much worse if I say it that way."

[King Cucaracha 0]

Old School Rules

Jay Hawke VS. Dance Dance Dragon

 

 

HAWKE vs. DDD...

 

 

 

 

...will appear here, soon, just as soon as I've finished a pretty important re-write to it.

[King Cucaracha 0]

Spike Jenkins VS. Divefire

Special Referee: Tom Flesher

 

 

"Ladies and gentlemen..." Funyon begins with a small lull in proceedings about to end. "...please welcome, your special guest referee for this next contest... "THE SUPERIOR ONE" TOM FLESHER!"

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

Stepping out of the corner he was parked in, Tom, who isn't even wearing a ref's shirt, takes the microphone. Before he can speak though, he suffers a case of the dry throats. With a snap of his fingers, Allison Onita appears from ringside with a bottle of vintage whiskey and a glass for him.

 

"Ladies and germs..."

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

Tom chuckles at his own joke, although that could just be the whiskey kicking in.

 

"...it's with great regret that I inform you that your next match will not be taking place. Let's face it, nobody cares about this two losers assigned to wrestle each other, for the sake of who only knows what. Everybody knows I was the greatest Cruiserweight Champion in SWF history..."

 

"It's true." King chirps. "If nothing else, he actually put the belt to good use."

 

"You could say that." groans Mak.

 

"...and since neither of these two is even worthy of competing for said championship tonight, I say, why bother? So, I have pre-emptively disqualified both men for being weenies. Look it up in the rulebook Maddix. It's there. Being Commissioner isn't all about sitting around and feeling your ass grow, there's plenty of power to be abused... I'm sorry, 'used'. Anyway, I am envoking this rule and I don't expect anyone to voice disapproval, because, let's face it, I'm doing everyone a favour. This show'll be plenty long enough as it is. And with the economy the way it is currently, severance pay-offs can only buy so much liquor to get you through a Maddix/Toxxic SWF presentation."

 

Tom swirls the drink in his glass in satisfaction... not noticing a sudden murmuring in the stands.

 

"Instead, I'd like to take a moment to talk about this 'vaunted', makeshift team running the SWF ever since my departure. After one year, I think it's about time they got their business appraisal, from a man who knows something about running this merry ship."

 

"Uh... Tom..."

 

"You see, ever since Genesis VIII, Landon has been having his merry way with the SWF..."

 

"Tom... Tom..."

 

"...putting together his convoluted little matches, having 'hilarious' Odd Couple arrangements with his BFF Michael Stephens, bringing in wave after wave of ridiculous caricatures, even more-so, like your Dance Dance Dragons, your Legs Flamingos, your El Hombre Sin Nombres... can you say BUST?... and your..."

 

 

 

PRESIDENT RAMUS MAYBE!?

 

 

"YYYEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

"Oh no, Tom... no..."

 

Flesher turns around to be confronted by the babyfaced bringer of doom from the Orient and seems to be the only one in the arena who doesn't see the inevitable coming, as he smirks to himself.

 

"Oh dear, it appears we have a lost child. Hello little girl, which embarrassing Landon Maddix signing are you dressed up as?" Tom sneers, as he looks the girl curiously, her arms folded. "Are you really old enough to wear make-up? What is this, the Greenville chapter of the KISS Army or something? I mean really..."

 

Apparantly, Tom has a short memory. Again, maybe it's the whiskey. Good news is, the whiskey isn't around much longer, as Ramu knocks the glass from underneath, spilling the contents to Tom's upmost annoyance!

 

"You know what little girl, that was a BIG mistake!"

 

No, kneeling down to pick up the glass was a big mistake Tom...

 

 

 

 

*WHAM!*

 

"YYYYEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!"

 

"SHINING WIZARD~!"

 

"Oh for the love of... oh... oh."

 

King trails off sadly as Tom is left prostate on the Genesis ring canvas.

 

"So, wait, if Spike and Divefire didn't bother to show for their match, why was Tom the guy to get the RAMU treatment?"

 

"Well, he obviously insulted her. She clearly likes Iron Maiden, not KISS."

[King Cucaracha 0]

SWF Cruiserweight Championship

Taiga Star © VS. Spyke

 

"Welcome back to SWF GENESIS NINE!!!"

 

The wide shot shows the crowd on their feet, cheering and screaming as if on cue. Signs are being waved. People see themselves on the Smarkstron and scream shout-outs to friends and family. The shot fades to the Commentation Station, the team of Mak Francis and Suicide King. Both are wearing their best and beaming with excitement.

 

"Welcome back to beautiful Greenville, South Carolina folks, and thank you for inviting us into your homes this evening LIVE on PAY PER VIEW!!" The crowd pops at King's statement.

 

Mak picks up where he left off. "Coming up next is SWF Cruiserweight Champion, Taiga Star, versus a long time adversary, Spyke..."

 

"I don't blame him."

 

"...It is well known that these two do not like each other. Though this will be the first time they lock up in the SWF, they have wrestled numerous times in the DVS."

 

King turns to his broadcast coleague. "This is also Spyke's first title shot in the SWF. Isn't it fitting that the holder of the Crusierweight Title just happens to be the one that he's been vocally against since invading some months ago?"

 

"There's a lot on the line in this one, King. Let's go to the ring as Funyon makes the introductions."

 

 

 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one-fall and is being fought under cruiserweight rules, and is for the SWF World Cruiserweight Championship!!"

 

The crowd pops in anticipation!

 

"The referee for this contest is Brian Warner."

 

Referee Warner waves as he is announced, some fans actually cheer.

 

"Introducing first, the challenger. Hailing from Brooklyn New York, and weighing in at two hundred and thirty five pounds... He is Absolute Perfection... SPYYYYKE!!!"

 

 

 

DONTYOUWANTTOMEMEEEEE?

 

Fozzy's Don't You Wish You Were Me rocks out. Red pyros pour slowly from the top of the entrance, much like a waterfall. Matching red lights flash through the arena, highlighting the fan's booing faces.

 

Spyke steps onto the ramp and the crowd gets louder. He bends over to pick up the object in front of him. It appears to be some sort of large gun... or small cannon... and he places it in front of his crotch mockingly.

 

He presses a button and fireworks shoot out, red and white. Spyke bucks his hips to make it look like he's firing it off the largest (if not the most painful) load ever. The crowd actually pops for this, impressed by Spyke's masculine fortitude.

 

The fans return to sneering as Spyke casually makes his way to the ring, practically strutting, ignoring them all, moving out of the way when stray arms reach out to touch him. "Don't touch the Perfection."

 

He looks around a bit before climbing onto the apron and entering through the ropes. Then he ascends the turnbuckle, slapping his chest twice and pointing to the crowd with the most insincere smirk he can muster. Which is quite insincere indeed. He hops down an his music fades and the lights return to normal.

 

 

 

Funyon returns to his place in the middle of the ring to continue his announcing duties. "And introducing his opponent. Hailing from Helltown, Haverhill, Massachusetts and weighing in at one hundred and "none of your damn business" pounds... she is the Princess of Hardcore AND the SWF World Cruiserweight Champion.... TAIGAAAA STAARRRRR!!"

 

 

 

Be a Man hits, the lights go crazy as the opening riffs of the song slice through the arena. After the pause, purple lasers stream from the entrance as... as Taiga Star is not coming out? The crowd begins to question where the Cruiserweight Champion is as Spyke and referee Brian Warner exchange questions about where she may be.

 

Everyone's questions are answered when the roar of a big diesel engine rumbles through the arena. Out from the back one man runs, yelling and shooing everyone out of the way... because right behind him is a shiny chrome grill attached to a big black Dodge Ram pickup truck!

 

The lights shine off the glossy, freshly waxed surface as the curtains part to reveal the vehicle rolling slowly into the arena and parking perpendicular to the entrance ramp. Attached to each side door window is a flag; one is the American flag, and the other is black and features a Pepsi logo.

 

The driver's door opens up and a gold title belt is seen being tossed, landing on the roof. Following it is Taiga Star, much to the pop of the crowd!!

 

She emerges out of the cab and climbs up onto the roof, retrieving her Cruiserweight Title and thrusting it proudly overhead. Clamoring down the hood and hopping onto the ramp, she walks to the ring with a smile on her face and a pep in her step. Referee Warner keeps Spyke away from her as she tosses her title over the top rope and slides in under the bottom rope. She pops up, title in hand, turning to show it off to all sides, the crowd cheering as she does so.

 

 

 

The referee takes the title from her as her music fades. He walks over to Spyke to present him with the title; he acknowledges it with a knuckle bump. Mister Warner holds the title up in the centre of the ring, showing it to all four sides, before handing it off to the timekeeper.

 

Referee Warner situates the wrestlers into their respective corners. He checks Spyke for international objects, then Taiga, being careful to examine her boots under the demand of her opponent. Satisfied that both parties are free from weaponry, he calls for the bell.

 

 

*DING!!*

 

 

Spyke starts with offering up a friendly handshake. Taiga takes a step back and glares at him. Spyke assures that he just wants to have a good match, complete with a bright, wide smile. Taiga looks to the left, looks to the right, as if asking the crowd what they think. They think like she does, booing him and screaming not to do it.

 

Yelling at the crowd, Spyke demands that they, and Taiga Star, need to respect him. "You all need to respect me and my Absolute Perfection!" This draws even more boos.

 

Taiga, knowing damn well that she is about to get slapped, steps forward and grabs his hand anyway. She is slapped alright, backhanded across the face like a bitch of her caliber deserves!!

 

 

She doesn't have time to not sell it as she is quickly tripped to the mat, finding herself on the receiving end of a Boston crab. She grabs one of his legs and pulls it out from under him, then rolls him over and locks in a single leg crab. Spyke throws her off. Taiga is right back around though, pulling a leg out from under him and wrenching away on it. Spyke rolls out of it and both wrestlers are on their knees, facing each other. Spyke slaps Taiga in the face!

 

 

"OOOOOOH!!"

 

 

...Which Taiga returns, knocking the taste out of his mouth!

 

 

"YEEEAHHHHH!!!"

 

 

They both scramble to their feet and Taiga gets in Spyke's face... erm, chest. Spyke looks down at her and laughs, shoving her forcefully. Taiga stumbles but quickly regains footing. She runs forward, ramming her head into his midsection, knocking the wind out of him and sending him to the mat!

 

Spyke's leg is grabbed and stretched over Taiga's shoulders in a modified horse collar. Spyke's other leg goes to kicking Taiga off. Spyke grapples for Taiga's arm for some move. Taiga rolls out of it and twists his arm in the process. Spyke rolls out of this and twists Taiga's arm. She kicks his arm away and rolls away, popping up to her feet. Spyke with a kip-up. Another faceoff! The crowd loves it!

 

 

 

"What a series of quick reversals there. It's obvious these two have wrestled before - not much of a feeling out process here." Mak says.

 

King retorts. "I know that I wouldn't want to feel Taiga out... at all."

 

 

 

Taiga slingshots Spyke into the corner and follows in with double knees to the chest. Spyke ducks. Taiga lands on the second turnbuckle. Whoa, whoa! She manages to hang on. Spyke comes back and whatever move he was planning on didn't get executed. Instead he gets knocked over when Taiga jumps off the ropes backwards, sending her ass-first into his chest! She wastes no time picking him up for a quick suplex, floating over into a pin.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

Spyke kicks out with ease. Taiga picks him up and throws him into the ropes, but he reverses. Taiga bounces off and ducks under Spyke's leapfrog. On the rebound, Spyke takes to the mat as Taiga leaps over him... but not quite over him. She stops short and stands on his back, jumping and running in place, hopping back on when she is shrugged off.

 

She picks him up and delivers some stiff forearms. Spyke seems groggy, out on his feet. Taiga runs at him with an uppercut. Spyke sways, not going down. Taiga repeats the move, more forcefully. Mid-swing, her arm is caught. Spyke's arm wraps around the back of her neck and before she can block it she is dropped on her head with a DDT!! Spyke with a lazy cover...

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

Taiga kicks out easily. Spyke picks her up and swings her into the ropes. She attempts a shoulder tackle on the much taller Spyke, with little effect. Upon daring her to do it again, she runs off the ropes for another, but is stopped short with a clothesline! Spyke kips up and taunts her, asking the crowd "Who can do it better!?"

 

 

"BOOOOOOOOO!"

 

 

While he is taunting, Taiga grabs his leg in an attempt to trip him. But it doesn't work. Spyke looks down annoyed, then picks her up by the hair. This draws the ire of the referee. No matter, his grasp on her hair is only temporary, for soon he releases her and sends her flying into the ropes. Spyke goes for another clothesline but Taiga ducks it. On the rebound Taiga is stopped with a kick to the gut.

 

Spyke runs off the ropes to Taiga's bent over form. He sails right over her. On the way he attempts a Sunset Flip, but in unable to get Taiga over. She wiggles her finger at him, slaps his hands off her thighs, and lands a Big Ass Splash on his chest, pinning him!! The referee gets into position...

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

Spyke kicks out. Taiga allows him to get up. He thanks her by kicking her down to the mat. He jumps to the second rope and springs off with a beautiful Lionsault... right onto Taiga's knees! While he rolls around clutching his stomach, she wrestles him into a tight pinning predicament...

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

THR... Spyke wrangles his way out of it, makes with a quick kip-up, and kicks Taiga in the gut!

 

 

 

"And just like that, Taiga almost had the victory."

 

 

 

Taiga is on her back. Spyke reaches down to get her off the mat, but all he gets is kicked in the head!! He is surprised by the speed of her little legs. Taiga is the one to be picking Spyke off the mat now. She whips him into the corner. Spyke reverses and Taiga lands hard. Spyke runs in at her but Taiga rolls out of the corner, tripping him and making him land face-first on the bottom turnbuckle.

 

 

Taiga pulls him into the middle of the ring and begins stomping away at him, focusing on his leg. Spyke makes it to his knees, where he is kicked in the face! This lays him out flat on his back. Taiga grabs his leg and pulls it, kicking the back of his knee and thigh, cramping it up good. She tucks the leg under her arm and slams it with a Knee-D-T.

 

She pulls Spyke's leg toward her, turning him over in the process. She blatantly stomps the back of his leg several times. She then pulls it back. Spyke cries out. She finds the other leg and does the same. Now she has both legs pulled back, sort of a full Boston crab, but with his legs over her shoulders. Spyke struggles to free himself. Taiga leans back, practically laying on his back, making his feet damn near touch his shoulders.

 

Spyke wiggles on his arms, inching himself to the safety of the ropes. Eventually he makes it. Taiga doesn't break the hold until the last second. She doesn't give any time before she pulls him back into the middle of the ring. She applies her favourite leg submission, wrapping his legs around one of hers. Spyke knows that a curbstomp is coming, and holds his arms firmly against his chest.

 

 

Taiga chides him for being a sorry sport. She places her free foot on the back of his neck anyway, grinding his face into the mat. Kicking him several times makes his head bounce, much like a basketball. Spyke finally releases one of his arms, using it to remove Taiga's foot from his head.

 

Using the opportunity, she grabs the arm and pulls it back. This brings a new round of screaming from Spyke, who adamantly keeps his other arm away from her. She concentrates on the one she has however, pulling it back, planting her free foot in the shoulder for leverage. His other arm searches for the ropes. His long reach finds several inches away. So he works at squirming, fighting through the pain, and pulling on the canvas.

 

 

Making it to the ropes, Spyke grabs onto the bottom one, screaming at the ref for him to break the hold. The hold is broken... eventually... at the five count. Taiga backs off, for a moment, giving him the slightest chance to gathering his whits. But then she is right back on him. She pulls his leg and turns him over. Draping his leg over the bottom rope, Taiga wraps it around and pulls at the foot. Spyke shouts as the referee makes the count. Taiga is reluctant to release but does. She goes right back at it though, wrapping said leg around the rope again, in the other direction this time. The ref counts. Spyke pulls Taiga's hair. Both wrestlers are screaming and Referee Warner forcefully separates the two.

 

 

 

"Taiga obviously came into this match with a plan, King. She's been going after those legs since the early going. It's smart to keep the taller opponent on the mat, where he can't use his speed and quickness against her."

 

 

 

Taiga pulls him by the leg, dragging him back into the ring. A bit of grappling ensues, Spyke attempting to lock her in some sort of move, whereas Taiga is attempting a submission of her own. Taiga's arms are almost butterflied behind her. Spyke's legs are almost tied up with Taiga's. Spyke is elbowed in the face. As he turns away from it, he finds himself in another leg submission, his legs wrapped around Taiga's.

 

 

Unfortunately, Taiga is facing the wrong way to do her trademark curbstomp. So in a moment of improvisation, she sits on his lower back. Spyke's legs are tangled at a horrible angle, his knees and ankles feeling the impact. He waves his arms about frantically, and is unfortunately very far away from all of the ropes.

 

Taunting him, Taiga asks him if he is alright. This gets a reply in the form of a word not fit for broadcast. Turning to the side, Taiga manages to grab a hold of one of Spyke's arms. His remaining arm flails in double-time, attempting to grab her hair or poke her eye or something.

 

 

Taiga seizes the oppetunity... and Spyke's other arm! Spyke desperately tries to pull his arms forward but Taiga isn't letting that happen. One arm at a time, she cranks his arms a little further back.

 

CRANK! On the left.

 

"AAHHHH!"

 

CRANK! On the right.

 

"AAHHHH!"

 

CRANK! On the left.

 

"AAHHHH!"

 

 

With a great howl that echos through the arena, Spyke musters up all the power he can, and pulls his arms forward Taiga is losing her grip! Spyke pulls harder when he realizes that he is out-powering her. Finally he gets his arms out of the hold!

 

Spyke reaches with his freshly released arms. He searches out blindly for Taiga's face. Upon finding it, he does a simple but effective rake of her eyes!! Taiga flails and gets to her feet. Spyke pushes up on his arms. This makes Taiga tumble forward just enough for his legs to be released. He rolls out of the way before she can grab him again.

 

 

In a burst of energy, Spyke shoves Taiga off into the ropes. He gets up and goes flying toward her. Taiga pulls down the top rope and Spyke goes flying over the low bridge. Taiga seems to think for one devious second before scurrying up the turnbuckles, then seems to just throw herself at Spyke with a flying cross body...

 

...Spyke dodges her at the very last moment! He points and laughs at her as the crowd collectively winces at the big splat that the chubby Ms. Star sent through the arena when she connected with the mat.

 

Adding injury to insult, Spyke puts the boots to her, ensuring that she stays down as he does something devious. He walks over to the edge of the mat and rips it from it's adjoining mate. Laying it backwards reveals a large patch of bare concrete!!

 

He goes back to Taiga. She just got to her knees. he grabs her hair and Taiga throws a punch to his midsection, thought it is a bit weak and Spyke easily backs away, making the punch ineffective. Spyke hoists her up, ready to deliver a brainbuster. Before he drops her on her head, he rams her back into the ringpost. She screams from the brutal impact. Her screaming comes to an end though as she is viciously dropped on the top of her head with a BRAINBUSTAAHHH~!!!

 

 

"HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!!"

 

 

Spyke rolls back into the ring. Taiga is near comatose on the floor. Referee Warner begins to count.

 

ONE!

 

Spyke is flexing his legs and punching his knees, trying to get the feeling back into the abused limbs.

 

TWO!

 

Taiga hasn't moved yet.

 

THREE!

 

The crowd near her looks concerned, looking down at Taiga with hands clasped over mouths.

 

FOUR!

 

"Now, Spyke can't allow Taiga to be counted out here. He would win the match, but as we all know, titles cannot change hands on a countout."

 

FIVE!

 

"Thank you Einstein." King scoffs.

 

SIX!

 

Mak also seems a bit worried. "Taiga Star has not moved a muscle since being dropped on her head..."

 

SEVEN!!

 

"....We should get some paramedics out here. She could be seriously hurt!"

 

EIGHT!

 

King looks down at her also. "Maybe this will teach her a lesson. She wants to fight like a man, but can't handle it when a realan gets a hold of her."

 

NINE!

 

Spyke is still stretching out his legs, taking a breather, getting his whits together.

 

TEN!

 

Taiga lifts an arm... only to have it collapse bonelessly to her side.

 

ELEVEN!

 

Spyke climbs through the ropes and hops off the apron.

 

TWELVE!

 

He picks up Taiga's lifeless corpse and rolls her back into the ring. Spyke follows her in and hooks her legs for the pin!

 

ONE!

 

"There's no way she'll kick out."

 

TWO!

 

"And we have a new Cruiserweight Champi..."

 

THR......

 

NO!!!!

 

 

Taiga kicks out, as if my instinct. Spyke is angry, questions the referee's ability to do his job right. Mak, King, and everyone else in the arena are shocked into disbelief!

 

As Spyke argues with the ref, Taiga stirs, gets to her hands and knees. Spyke sees this and pushes the ref aside. She gets up to her knees. Spyke runs past her, bounces off the ropes, and kicks her in the mack of the head with a Royal Deliverance enzuigiri!! Spyke with a suggestive jackknife cover...

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

Taiga kicks out!

 

 

Spyke picks her up for a suplex. Keeping hooked he rolls and does another! As he goes for the third suplex, he gets lazy and doesn't put effort, instead delivering a face crusher!!

 

He stands above Taiga, arms above his head, proud of himself. He puts a foot on Taiga's chest, demanding the ref count this as a pin.

 

 

"How insulting!"

 

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

Taiga kicks out, obviously. In the process, she grabs his foot, knocking him flat on his ass. This is all but ineffective as he rolls to his feet, bringing her up with him. He locks in an... abdominal stretch!!

 

 

She grimaces. The referee asks if she wants to give up and she replies with a weak no. He cranks it in further and she does not give up. The referee asks and she refuses. She suddenly begins screaming in earnest. The referee asks her again and he gets just a scream. He wonders what is up. What he doesn't see is Spyke pulling on the ropes for leverage.

 

The crowd screams at the ref, trying to call attention to the blatant cheating. Spyke tells them to shush as he cranks away. The referee asks Taiga again. As she screams yet again, Referee Warner glances at the Smarkstron... and sees what Spyke is doing on the screen!

 

He gets to the ropes to make Spyke let go. He counts, Spyke counting along with him. When the ref gets to five, Spyke does not let go. He only does when the ref threatens to disqualify him. Fine, fine. He lets go and puts his hands up as if defending himself.

 

 

Spyke picks her up and sends her into the corner. He follows her in with a big splash. Taiga's arms are the only thing holding her upright. A Shuffle Side Kick is connected, spinning her head around. Spyke rubs his jaw mockingly, drawing more booing from the fans.

 

Taiga collapses, sitting in the corner. Spyke dashes forward and plants both hands on the top rope. He thrusts himself into the air, stalling for a moment before bringing both his feet down hard on her chest! He pulls her into the middle of the ring...

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

TH... Taiga gets the shoulder up.

 

Spyke pulls her up. She seems to be out on her feet. He slaps her face, an insulting gesture. Spyke grabs her by the jaw, asks if she wants to give up. Not getting a reply, he slaps her again. Taiga mumbles something. Whatever she says, it gets her another slap. Fuck you, she says. Spyke asks her to repeat herself.

 

"Fuck you."

 

She gets slapped again. Taiga growls. She rears back to slap him, but Spyke catches her arm. He pulls her around, hooks the other arm, and attempts a backslide. The ref doesn't even make a one count before Taiga rolls out of it. They both get to her feet. Taiga swings for him again. Spyke blocks it. He then jabs her, three rights in a row. He then looks around, as if someone called his name. Suddenly Taiga is backhanded, right across the face!

 

As she stumbles back, Spyke grabs her arm and sends her into the ropes. She rebounds off the ropes and Spyke lifts her, as if though going for a flapjack. He lets her chest hit the rope and uses the momentum to slam her to the mat on her back! He jumps to the middle rope and executes a beautiful Lionsault! He lays on her suggestively for the pin.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

...Spyke doesn't let the ref get to three, as he picks her head off the mat to break the count. The crowd boos wildly, some shout insults at him. Spyke just smiles at them, drawing in the negativity, basking in it.

 

He stands over Taiga, looming, asking her to get up. He starts The Clap, getting the crowd behind her but actually mocking them. Taiga gets to her hands and knees. Spyke stomps on her hand. Taiga shakes it out. Spyke steps on the other hand. Taiga is on her knees, clutching her hands in pain. Spyke looks down at her... perfect height for a demeaning act. The crowd boos more, knowing what is on his mind. He doesn't do anything however. Well, nothing but shoving her back down with his boot.

 

 

Spyke really has the crowd going, half booing him and half chanting for Taiga. He continues disrespecting her. He knocks her down again. While she is down, he steps on her hair. This makes Taiga flail about wildly until the referee makes his stop.

 

More stalling from Spyke. He is cocky, knowing he can win, and is just toying with her at this point. Again Taiga is on her knees, her head again at crotch level. Spyke grabs her hair and makes some very obscene gestures. Taiga doesn't seem effected, so he tries harder, thrusting himself in some mock face-rape.

 

 

Taiga gets pissed. No, not drunk (for our Brit friends), but extremely angry. She doesn't show it at first, letting Spyke toy with her. But all of a sudden she explodes. Without warning, she lays in slaps and forearms to his midsection. Making her way to her feet, she continues the assault, laying in some stiff uppercuts. The onslaught is not very long lived however, as she is SPYKED!! The kick to her chin sends her flat to the mat. Spyke lays on her for the pin, practically teabagging her...

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

THR....

 

Spyke picks her up again, preventing the pin!

 

 

 

"What the hell is Spyke doing? That's twice now that he could have gotten the title!" King is furious.

 

"I think he just wants to hurt her, King. He's letting his cocky nature dictate the match, and it could well cost him the victory."

 

"I'm all for hurting Taiga Star, don't get me wrong... But I'm more for winning titles."

 

 

 

Spyke stalls more, being insulting, showing off his better-than-all attitude. He tucks her head between his legs, preparing for a crossarm powerbomb. Taiga fights it off for all it's worth, dropping to a knee, kicking her feet, and generally being hard to hold on to. Spyke manages to get her up however... just to have Taiga punch him in the head repeatedly. He loses his hold on her and she tumbles to the mat, rolls to her feet, and goes after Spyke again, ramming him in the midsection with a shoulder tackle.

 

But Spyke was prepared for this, and the move doesn't have much effect. In fact, the only effect the move had, was putting Taiga back into a powerbombing predicament. Which, again, she violently refuses to let happen. She kicks and screams and flails about. Spyke grabs a hold of her shirt in an attempt to assist him with the move.

 

More struggling ensues. Finally Taiga reverses, lifting Spyke up and depositing him on the mat behind her. She turns around... sees Spyke with some black fabric in his hand... looks down at herself... just to discover that she is shirt-less!!

 

 

 

"Now, as a red blooded male, I like to see semi-nude women. But good God, not Taiga!!" Suicide King looks sick.

 

Mak sighs. "Look at her. It's not like she's out there half-naked. She's wearing about as much as before!" He points out that the shirtless Ms. Star is wearing a none-too-revealing black singlet with a somewhat lacy black bra on under that, which adds up to about two more square inches of skin never previously seen by SWF eyes.

 

 

 

This fact doesn't stop the crowd though from hooting and wolf-whistling. Even Spyke looks pleased, pointing at her bosoms with a giant smile on his face, laughing the whole time.

 

Referee Warner though, concerned about keeping a lady's dignity, runs to where she is sitting in the corner and makes a vain attempt to cover her underthings. Taiga is not appreciative though. Instead of being embarrassed, she is more fired up than ever. Shoving the ref out of the way, she goes charging for Spyke!

 

She rips her tank top out of his hands and screams out, "THAT'S MINE!" Then she proceeds on choking him out with it. The referee tries to stop her. She stops, for a moment, then goes right back to it. Spyke gags and tries to pull the shirt away, but he can't. Taiga releases again... only to choke him out some more. Nothing scientific about this. This is war.

 

 

The ref finally wrestles the shirt from her grasp and tosses it to the outside. Taiga resorts to using her fists, knocking into Spyke's head with rights and lefts. Spyke makes it to his feet. He kicks her in the gut then picks her up for a powerbomb. She slides off his shoulders, but only because Spyke allowed her to do so. He allows it so that he can turn around and hit a split-legged jawbreaker! Taiga is laid out on the mat. Spyke climbs to the top rope. he signals to the crowd what he is about to do. He looks down at Taiga and blows her a kiss. Then he puts the last Nail in the Coffin, his version of the Shooting Star Press!!

 

Spyke twists in the air.

 

Quite graceful really.

 

Perfectly executed.

 

Too bad all that perfection lands him on an empty canvas!!

 

 

With all the stalling and showing off, Taiga had rolled out of the way. She picks him up off the mat and hooks him for a power move of some sort. Spyke though, using his smarts, reaches for her head and rolls her with a schoolboy...

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

Taiga reverses into an Oklahoma roll...

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

Spyke reverses this onto a crucifix pin...

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

Taiga reverses into a schoolgirl...

 

ONE!

 

She grabs the tights...

 

TWO!

 

...The referee doesn't see it...

 

THREE!!!!

 

 

*DING!!*

 

 

Be a Man reprises. Taiga rolls out of the ring backs up the ramp before Funyon makes the announcement.

 

 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner of the match and STILL the SWF World Cruiserweight Champion, TAIGAAA STARRR!!"

 

 

Mister Warner hops out of the ring to check on Taiga, who is stumbling and obviously out of sorts. Spyke is in the ring, screaming and yelling, pounding the mat, looking much like a child throwing a tantrum. The ref runs to grab Taiga's title from the timekeeper's table. He runs back and presents it to her, then raises her arm in victory.

 

Spyke begins to climb out of the ring to attack her, but the referee is there at once, blocking him from doing so. Obscenities are shouted in Taiga's direction, but are mostly drowned out by the cheering of the crowd. Taiga raises her title high overhead, ignoring how the lace on her brassiere shows more.

 

 

 

"It seems that Spyke's cocky nature DID cost him the match in the end." Mak says.

 

"It's disgusting, Mak. No woman should be holding the World Crusierweight title. Especially seeing as she doesn't make weight limit."

 

Mak sighs. "Good Grief!"

[King Cucaracha 0]

Tag Team Championship #1 Contendership

GTA Fight Team VS. New York Connection

 

FADE IN

 

“Tonight already has been filled with surprises and great matches,” Mak Francis shouts over the roar of the crowd, “and we still have about three more matches left! So let’s keep the party going, as we get ready to see Sir Marvelous’ New York Connection square off against the GTA Fight Team to determine the Number One Contenders to the Tag Titles!”

 

“Positively!” affirms King, trying equally hard to be heard over the fans. “I’ve been pumped up for this show all evening! I mean, we’ve still got the Heavyweight Championship match coming up, between Va’aiga and Michael Alexander, but right now, I’m really pumped up for this Number One Contender’s match, even though the match itself is a fraud!”

 

“Come again?”

 

“Don’t play stupid with me, Francis,” says King. “You were sitting there with me, watching when Sin and Mister Bruner beat the VDN; that should have made them the Number One Contenders. The fact that they have to be put in another match to get something that they should have been awarded when they beat the former champions is a sham!”

 

“Take it up with the management, King,” replies Mak, in an almost hurried tone. “We’re just here to call the matches!”

 

“What the hell is your problem?” snipes King. “We don’t get paid by the hour… What, do you have a hot date after the show?”

 

“I do, as a matter of fact,” Mak replies snidely. “With your moms.”

 

King’s mouth hangs open as he tries to think up a comeback, but before he can come up with anything, the sound of the timekeeper’s bell calls his attention to the ring:

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” booms Funyon, “our next match is to determine the Number One Contenders to the SWF World Tag Team Championship!” With that, “Helter Skelter” beings to blast through the loud speakers, and the already raucous fans begin cheering even louder, as Tod Stuart and Daniel Smith step from behind the curtain. Tod starts to get animated, pumping his fist in the air, on the other hand, Dan just smiles nervously as they make their way down the ramp.

 

“This contest is scheduled for one fall,” continues Funyon. “Introducing first, from Toronto, Ontario, Canada, at a total combined weight of five hundred twenty-two pounds: Tod James Stuart! Daniel Smith! The GEEEEE TEEEEE AAAAAY FIIIIIGHT TEAM!

 

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAH!

 

“The GTA looks to be pumped up for this match!” notes Mak, as they proceed down the aisle.

 

“Yeah, but look at the expression on the face of Daniel Smith,” replies King. “This is the biggest match he’s ever been a part of, and I can’t help but wonder whether that’s going to make him a detriment to Stuart in this match.”

 

“What do mean by that?”

 

“Well, think about it,” explains King, as Stuart and Smith enter the ring. “This is the biggest match that Daniel Smith has ever been involved in. If he starts feeling the pressure of being on the biggest stage, his inexperience could cost him this match!”

 

“Well, if that’s the way you’re looking at things, then GTA is going to win tonight!”

 

King does a double take. “What?”

 

“Well, if your argument is about experience in big matches, neither SIN nor Mister Bruner have been in a match this big, either,” counters Mak, as Tod goes towards the right side of the ring, grabs the top rope and pumps his fist in the air. “Tod Stuart is the only guy on either team who’s ever competed at Genesis, so the experience factor has to favor the GTA!”

 

“That may be true,” replies King, “but you’re forgetting about the x-factor: Sir Marvelous. He’ll find a way to make sure his men win tonight, you watch what I tell you!”

 

“You know, I was talking to Tod Stuart before the show,” says Mak. “He was telling me that Dan Smith is so strong, that he was able to press Stuart over his head twenty times… and then he held him up there using only the muscles in his neck! What do you think of that?”

 

“Well, he’s definitely big and strong,” concedes King, “but he’s going to have to face somebody on the other side of the ring who’s a lot bigger, and a lot stronger!” Stuart, finally noticing the nervousness in Smith’s eyes, heads over to calm him down as “Helter Skelter” fades out. It is soon replaced by Notorious BIG’s “I Love the Dough,” which heralds their opponents’ arrival. Sir Marvelous hobbles out from behind the curtain, absorbing the boos from the crowd for several seconds before his men follow behind him.

 

“And their opponents,” booms Funyon over the crowd noise, “introducing first, the manager: SIR MAAAAARVELOUS! And he represents, from New York City, at a total combined weight of seven hundred twenty pounds, the team of SIN… and BIIIIIG BULLY BRUUUUUNER!” Marvelous makes his way around the ring, to their corner, as his men head up the steel steps to the ring apron.

 

 

“I can’t stand this guy,” groans Francis, rolling his eyes. “He’s as phony as a three dollar bill!”

 

“Hey, show some respect here,” scolds King. “Sir Marvelous and Chris Card are, like, the smartest managers this company has ever had. They both have great talent they’re managing and…well…they’re awesome.”

 

“Wow, can your nose be any browner?”

 

“Can you be any gayer?” King responds.

 

“Ask your moms how gay I am.”

 

“You keep up with the mom stuff, and you’ll be back in that off-Broadway production of X-Men where I found you!”

 

SIN goes in the ring through the top and middle rope as Bruner just steps over the top rope. The Canadians stand in their neutral corner, not impressed with the size of their foes tonight.

 

“You know, Sir Marvelous told me before the show tonight that he and his men felt that it was an insult that they had to be put in another match to be named Number One Contenders, especially after beating the former champions,” says King, as Bruner and Stuart step onto the apron. “In fact, he told me that he was going to turn his men loose tonight; he said that they were going to send a message to SWF management, and make them take notice!”

 

“What did he mean by that?” asks Mak.

 

“I’m not sure,” replies King, “but it can’t be anything good for the GTA Fight Team!” Referee Chris Bacon signals the timekeeper to ring the bell, signifying the start of the match:

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

“Bell’s gone,” shouts Mak, “and we’re underway!” Nunez and Smith circle other, each seeking an advantage. Eventually, they settle into a collar-and-elbow tie-up, which Smith quickly shifts into a side-headlock. A few forearm shot to the midsection by SIN loosens up the lock, making it easier for SIN to push Dan across the ring, and Bruner grabs Smith by the back of the head as he rebounds to distract him. Smith turns around and nails Bruner with a hard right cross…

 

 

BANG!

 

 

… Leaving him defenseless as Nunez sneaks up behind him and pulls him backwards into a devastating Lungblower! Smith rolls onto his stomach and SIN delivers a series of stomps to his back as Bruner gets back onto the apron. Nunez then pulls Smith to his feet and tags in Mister Bruner, whipping him across the ring, where the Bully snatches him off the canvas as he rebounds and spikes him into the canvas with a spinebuster!

 

“Services will be held backstage for Mister Smith in about ten minutes,” drawls Marvelous. Bruner pulls Smith to his feet, only to wrap both massive arms around the Canadian in an inverted side waistlock, before flipping him overhead and back down to the canvas with a gutwrench suplex! The Bully lumbers over towards the edge of the ring, picking up speed as he bounces off the ropes, and leaping into the air, driving the point of his elbow into Dan’s sternum with an elbowdrop! Bruner remains in position for a pinning combination, and Bacon dives down to deliver the count:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

Smith kicks out at two. Bruner drags Smith over towards the edge of the ring, sliding his head underneath the bottom rope, and then steps onto the bottom rope, choking him as his four hundred pounds presses the rope into his throat! Bacon warns him to break the choke, and when the Bully refuses, he begins to count:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THREE!

 

 

FOUR!

 

 

FIV—

 

 

Bruner takes his foot off of the bottom rope just short of the five-count, and then stands between Bacon and the edge of the ring, obscuring his vision as Nunez hops down to the arena floor and continues choking Smith from outside the ring.

 

“Come on, ref!” barks Mak, as Tod runs into the ring and yells at Bacon to take action, which only serves to cause Bacon to run over to intercept him.

 

“So much for all that experience,” chides King, as the referee orders Stuart back to his corner. “You’d think that he would know better than to interfere with the referee trying to break up the choke like that!”

 

“Absolutely,” concedes Mak, as Nunez rolls Smith back towards the center of the ring. “That’s a cardinal mistake for a pro.” Bruner pulls Smith to his feet and whips him into his corner, before driving his shoulder repeatedly into Dan’s midsection; he then steps back and drives his boot repeatedly into Smith’s gut before making the tag to Nunez.

 

“Tag is made,” says Mak, as Bruner pulls Smith out of the corner; Bruner locks his arms around Smith and pops his hips as he snatches him overhead and drives him into the canvas with a belly-to-belly suplex. SIN climbs up to the top turnbuckle and leaps down into the ring, right hand cocked back to deliver a diving fistdrop…

 

 

BANG!

 

 

… But he cracks his knuckles on the canvas instead, as Dan the Man rolls out of the way! Smith gets to his feet and scrambles over to his corner, making a diving tag to Stuart!

 

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAH!

 

 

“Here comes Tod Stuart!” shouts Mak. Tod leaps over the top rope and runs over to Nunez before he can get upright, leaping into the air and grabbing onto SIN’s neck as he passes over, to take him down with a jumping neckbreaker! Stuart then rolls fluidly to his feet and to the ropes, leaping into the air as he rebounds and crashing down onto Nunez with a kneedrop! Tod goes for a cover:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

SIN kicks out at two. Both men quickly get to their feet, and Nunez goes for a knockout punch, but Tod the Bod ducks underneath and wraps his arms around SIN’s waist before snatching him backwards into a German Suplex!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

Nunez again kicks out at two! Tod pulls Nunez to his feet and applies a head-and-arm trap; he then pushes SIN forward, driving Nunez’s back across his outstretched thigh, pulls him back up, and sweeps the leg as he drives SIN back to the canvas with a Combination STO! He applies a lateral press:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

 

 

Bruner rushes into the ring to break up the count, and leaps into the air to deliver an elbowdrop to Stuart’s back, but Tod the Bod rolls out of the way, leaving the Bully to crash into his partner’s chest!

 

“Whoa!” shouts Mak, as Smith steps into the ring. “Tod was a little too fast for Mister Bruner on that exchange!” Smith and Stuart link hands as Bruner gets to his feet and rush across the ring, delivering a double-clothesline that knocks Bruner over the top rope and out to the arena floor!

 

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAH!

 

 

“The GTA Fight Team is on fire right now!” shouts Mak. “Sir Marvelous looks nervous over there, King!”

 

“I wouldn’t worry about Sir Marvelous,” replies King, with more confidence than he’s actually feeling. “And he’s not worried about his team, either; they’re lulling the GTA’s into a false sense of security!”

 

“They’d better be,” replies Mak, as Tod steps out onto the apron, “or this match is going to be over soon!” Dan pulls Nunez to his feet and traps him in a standing headscissors as Stuart ascends to the top turnbuckle; he then wraps his arms around SIN’s waist and lifts him up into a powerbomb position, as Tod dives into the ring…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And devastate Nunez with a tremendous Twenty-one Gun Salute! The crowd counts along with Stuart as he applies a lateral press:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

 

FOUR!

 

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

 

FOUR?

 

 

 

 

Yes, sadly, four… For referee Chris Bacon is paying attention neither to the crowd’s counting, nor the actual cover in the ring, instead concerning himself with the commotion that Sir Marvelous is causing outside the ring. Enraged, Dan the Man jumps down to the arena floor, chasing Marvelous around the corner…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And into a running boot by the massive Bruner! A sly grin spreads across Anderson’s face, as the Canadian Crusher crumples to the floor, out cold.

 

“Ha ha!” crows King, as Bruner returns to his corner. “That’s vintage Sir Marvelous right there, and that greenhorn fell for it, hook, line and sinker!” Inside the ring, Stuart, oblivious to the happenings out on the floor, pulls Nunez to his feet; he applies an arm-wringer, and then delivers a series of shin kicks to SIN’s midsection, but Nunez suddenly snaps awake, and spins out of the hold before Tod can settle his foot against his face…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And surprises Stuart by quickly scooping him up and dropping him back down to the canvas with a scoop brainbuster!

 

“Envy!” shouts Mak, as Nunez rolls onto his stomach and crawls wearily over to his corner. “That patented scoop brainbuster of his just knocked Tod Stuart silly!” Nunez reaches up and tags in Bruner; the Bully enters the ring and drags Stuart over to a neutral corner, where he pulls Stuart into a standing headscissors before lifting him up and driving him back down into the canvas with a ferocious snap powerbomb!

 

“Big time powerbomb by Mister Bruner!” shouts Mak, as the Bully exits to the ring apron. “And we know what follows that!”

 

“Smith looks to still be out cold,” notes King, as Bruner makes his way to the top turnbuckle. “If he doesn’t snap out of it quick, they’re going to have to pick Stuart up with a sponge!” Bruner takes a quick glance outside the ring and, seeing Smith still immobile, he dives fearlessly into the ring…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… Crashing into Tod’s chest with a tremendous avalanche splash! Dan just starts to stir outside the ring, but there are no signs of life inside, as Bruner remains atop the motionless Stuart for the cover:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

 

 

 

“Call the Ambulance” begins to play once again, as the Bully rises to his feet. Nunez stumbles back into the ring, and Bacon goes to raise their hands, but they both scare him out of the ring. Instead, they wait for their manager to hobble his way up the stairs and enter the ring to raise their hands in victory.

 

“A very impressive win for SIN and Bruner,” says Mak mournfully, “as they dispatch the GTA Fight Team in convincing fashion, and establish themselves as the top contenders for the Tag Team Titles! Let’s go to Funyon for the official word!”

 

“Here are your winners,” booms Funyon, “and the Number One Contenders: the team of SIN, and Big Bully BRUUUUUNER!”

 

 

BOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

“Well, these fans may not like it,” says King gleefully, “but whether they like or not, there are your Number One Contenders! And a very impressive win in their Genesis debut!”

 

“No doubt about it!” concedes King. “Anybody who may have doubted that these two are a force to be reckoned with in the tag team division… well, I’ll bet they don’t have doubts anymore!”

 

 

SIN and Bruner point towards their waists, and make other similar gestures to indicate their intent to capture championship gold…

 

 

As we:

FADE OUT

[King Cucaracha 0]

The scene changes to Luke and Leo Breslin in their locker room. Luke wraps tape around his wrist slowly. His movements look forced. Luke’s face reads a mixture of worry and uncertainty.

 

“You’re sure about this, Luke?”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

“You earned a shot at the top prize in this company,” Leo mentions as he takes a seat on the bench next to his brother, “and you’re sure you don’t want it?”

 

“Listen, Leo,” Luke begins, pausing his preparation and turning his neck to come eye-to-eye with his brother. “I know I earned a shot at the World Title, and I know that I am damn worthy of that shot, even if I had to just beat three miscreants in singles action.”

 

“So why not take the shot? Why’d you have me talk to Landon and get it changed?”

 

“Because… You’ve been in this business before. I’m sure your hiatus didn’t erase the one cold, hard fact from your memory. You can’t let people push you around. TKO has tried to screw us too many times. They nearly broke my arm, they nearly cost me matches, and they were quick to ruin any chance we had of showing our in-ring superiority when we were teamed with Pirata. And that’s bullshit, Leo… it’s all bullshit.”

 

“So you don’t care about gold?”

 

Luke stands and turns a bit, still keeping eye contact with his older brother. “Of course I care about gold. It solidifies your standing in this federation. But you’ve gotta realize Leo, more than anything, I don’t want TKO to succeed any more than they already have. Their tactics have gone unchecked for too long. I know you’ve realized the same thing, watching this federation from the comfort of your home. And now we’re here.”

 

“And you’ve given up your chance at Va’aiga to—”

 

“I haven’t given up anything! I’ll win that World Title when I’m good and ready. Leo… we’re here to put them in their place. This isn’t a federation of villainous cheaters and underhanded tactics. When you were in the Junior League, and you held that Television Title, this place stood for pure athleticism and skill, real wrestling ability and a desire to satisfy our fans. You taught me that. And that's why I joined. TKO’s taken those ideals and crushed them like so many other losers in this federation.”

 

“And you intend on saving the federation? You think the two of us can dismantle the FOUR members of TKO? It’s not just KOJI and TORU, Luke… it’s also Card and Natasha and they—”

 

A quick knock on the door stops Leo in the middle of his sentence. An unidentifiable jingle comes from the hallway. “You boys ready?” a voice asks from the other side of the door.

 

“Who’s that?” Leo asks, standing from his spot on the bench.

 

“It’s the help we need, brother,” Luke answers. “We’re beating TORU and KOJI. The rest requires a plan…”

 

More jingling comes from the hallway. Another knock prompts Luke to move towards the door. “I’m executing a plan, Leo. Listen up…”

 

“Who—”

 

Luke silences his brother with a finger pressed against his lips. He shoves his hand into the lens of the camera and pushes it downwards as he yells, “Come in!” The door opens, but the blackened scene fades as the jingling enters the room.

[King Cucaracha 0]

Johnny Dangerous VS. ???

 

The camera cuts back to Mak Francis and the Suicide King as they look into the omnipresent lens

 

“Up next, fans, it's Johnny Dangerous in action, against a mystery opponent. There's been rampant speculation as to who it could be. Thoughts?”

 

“Ced Ordonez. Or Ted Flink,” says King without a single moment of hesitation. Or thought.

 

“King, I don't... wait, is Ted Flink dead?”

 

“Dead?” says King in shock. “I didn't know he was sick!”

 

“Oh ho ho, oh King. That's terrible. I'm still laughing, though.” Mak shuffles his papers. “Nevertheless, here at Genesis, all questions will be answered, including the latest incarnation of Question Mark Man. Let's go to the ring.”

 

The strains of Mission Impossible, one of the most recognizable themes in modern history, plays over the arena as Johnny Dangerous makes the scene. His all black ensemble, including a black leather jacket, and shiny black boots portray a cool, calm, and collected figure. A man who could not care less who his opponent was tonight. He walks down to the ring, tugging on his right glove. It is also black.

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is schedule for one fall,” booms Funyon. “Now entering the ring, from Las Vegas, Nevada, weighing in tonight at 225 pounds, 'The Barracuda'... Johnny Dangerous!”

 

Dangerous enters the ring. His sunglasses are still on. He enters the ring facing away from the entrance ramp, and shakes his neck from side to side. His breathing is slow. Is he controlling it? Is he focused on his breathing? The man is hard to read, and not only because his eyes are obscured.

 

“I can guarantee you,” says Mak, cutting the faux-silence, “That no one in this arena is more keen to find out who Johnny Dangerous's opponent is, than Johnny Dangerous.”

 

“Johnny's playing it cool, tonight, but let me tell you: that is a man who thrives on intelligence, getting the mental leg up. Going into a situation dark is not his style,” muses King. “I mean, going blind. He clearly goes into every match dark.”

 

The music stops. And then... nothing. A beat passes. A moment. Where one would expect music, or pyro, announcing the opponent, there is a noticable lack of anything. Johnny is unfazed. He's been through worse.

 

All of a sudden, a bad, 80's synthesized horn starts to play a tune.

 

“You've got the touch! ...you've got the power...”

 

“YEAH!”

 

It's “The Touch” by Stan Bush. It's oddly familiar, like you've heard it somewhere...

 

“Hey Mak, this reminds me of that movie.”

 

“Which one, King?”

 

“I don't know, it was from the 80's... I think... oh man... I think it was all of them.”

 

“What, all the movies from the 1980's?”

 

“Yeah, that's it. Anyway, who's this music for? ...oh, you've got to be kidding me.”

 

King has spotted the mystery man at the top of the entry ramp.

 

“And his opponent... being accompanied to the ring by...” Funyon pauses. “-Nathaniel Kibagami, from Kobe, Japan, weighing in at 251 pounds, making his return to the SWF... Thoth!”

 

“Wow!” remarks Mak. “Thoth is back! And it looks like he brought a friend.”

 

“Friend is one way to put it,” scoffs King. “I have no idea how Thoth got Kibagami to come with him in the ring tonight. In fact, I have no idea why Thoth is back in the SWF. But most of all, I cannot figure out why Thoth, of all people, would come out to an 80's anthem. I thought all the Clan people were dark and moody.”

 

“Yeah,” says Mak, somewhat slyly, “This music is, highly inappropriate for someone like Thoth.”

 

Thoth raises a finger on each hand high into the air, and nods, as if to say that he is indeed back. Kibagami walks with pep, nodding, as if he were highly amused with himself. Meanwhile, in the ring, Johnny Dangerous has not moved. There is no hint of surprise or shock on his face. As Thoth enters the ring, Johnny backs up to the ropes and removes his sunglasses, placing them on the apron. Kibagami stands outside the ring, resting his hands on the opposite apron.

 

“So Thoth has returned to the SWF, but has he brought the skills that gave him a world championship? It's been several years since he stepped into the ring. Johnny will certainly give him no quarter tonight,” says Mak.

 

The music fades into the sound of the clanging bell. Both men start to circle each other, before diving eagerly into a collar-and-elbow tie-up. Neither man presses an advantage.

 

“Johnny feeling Thoth out here,” says King, with the air of a veteran, “And Thoth feeling himself out here. He may have been training for a while for this, but it's a whole different story once you step in that ring.”

 

“And Johnny's looking to tell him that story,” says Mak, as Johnny locks in a side headlock. He wrenches it down, trying to work his power over Thoth, to see how far it can take him. Thoth goes down to one knee, but he places his hands on the waist of the Barracuda. Bracing himself, he gets back to his feet, and pushes Johnny into the ropes. Johnny comes hurtling back with a shoulderblock aimed above Thoth's center of gravity. The Balancer cannot keep his balance, and his back crashes to the mat. The Secret Agent looks down and stops as he plans his next move. He backs into the other set of ropes. Thoth senses the motion, and throws his body towards his running opponent and hits the mat, forcing Johnny to hop over, in the hopes of gaining positional control of the match. Indeed, Johnny hops over, but as he does so, dives forward, headfirst, and hooks his arms around the forearm of Thoth! The crowd cheers, seeing this unexpected turn of events.

 

“Thoth thought he was gonna get Johnny with the old under-over, but Johnny Dangerous has taken advantage of the situation here! Locking him a tight armbar,” analyzes Mak. The Suicide King chimes in, “It could be Thoth's lack of expereince, his ring rust, that caused him to launch into a bad habit. It's a popular set of moves getting the opponent to leapfrog you, and gain control of the pace of the match, but it's easily seen coming, and Johnny has too much experience for that to work on him.”

 

Nathaniel Kibagami slaps the apron in frustration as Johnny leans back into the armbar. Thoth tries to get to a vertical base, but the weight on his arm and shoulder will only let him get feebly onto his knees. He grunts in frustration, as he cannot get out of the situation the way he wants. He reaches over with his right arm and slams his fist into the back of his foe's head. After four blows, Johnny loosens his grip. Thoth pushes the canvas, with his right arm, his good arm, and gets back to his feet. He stumbles as he stands, and shaking the cobwebs out-

 

He gets no respite! Johnny Dangerous clasps a tight waistlock around the man formerly known as the Balancer, bends his knees, and pops his hips! Thoth is held aloft into the air, and his shoulders and neck crash into the mat after a spectacularly executed German Suplex. Johnny gets up off the mat and raises his arms in adrenaline-fueled triumph!

 

“Johnny is not afraid of Thoth, Johnny is not afraid of Kibagami, Johnny is not afraid of the Clan! Mere moments into this match, Thoth's return flight to the SWF crashes deep into the ring!” shouts Mak, excitedly.

 

“Apt simile, Mak Francis,” quips King. “Thoth has to be demoralized after being outclassed in the ring so quickly.”

 

Thoth shakes off the sweat building on his forehead, that drips down the bridge of his nose. He gets on all fours, his limbs resolute. To his right is his aggressor, his confident adversary. Thoth's first advantage, the element of the unknown and surprise, has been shattered with an early German Suplex. He raises up to a low crouch. What will he do now?

 

From this position, Thoth lunges forward and initiates another collar-and-elbow tie up. The Barracuda is more than happy to respond, grasping the flesh at the back of Thoth's neck. Thoth digs in with his feet and his knees, trying to use his size advantage to pull the pendulum back to his gravity. He presses down and back against the canvas, backing Johnny inch by agonizing inch towards the corner. Johnny is bent back against the turnbuckle. The referee starts to call for a clean break.

 

“Fuck him up, Thoth!” shouts Kibagami, from the nearby apron. Thoth cracks a smirk and smacks a hand across Johnny's bare chest, drawing a loud “crack” that reverbs through the arena. Kibagami cackles with glee, and Thoth backs away with a smirk, arms outstretched in a taunting fashion. Johnny purses his lips, and charges in suddenly! Thoth's arms are wide open, giving Johnny a target to subdue. Both legs are grabbed, and Johnny throws his weight forward. Thoth's center of gravity fails him, and he falls. Johnny quickly hops on top of him and tries to get fists in.

 

“Goddamn it, you cocklicker,” shouts Kibagami. “You lick cock. Did you know that? Cocklicker.” It's unsure which of the two men he is directing that towards. And Kibagami doesn't look like he knows, either.

 

“Kibagami is using some language that makes me happy to know were on Pay-Per-View, because the FCC would fine the bejeezus out of us,” says King. “Kibagami really seems like he's on... something, right now.”

 

“Come on, King, when is he not? Nathaniel's Kibagami's recreational activites are well documented.”

 

Thoth is spurred on by his accompaniment, and the fact that he does not like being punched in the face. He gets his hands up to block the blows, and sticks a leg up and out, trying, and succeeding, and getting out from under the secret agent. Thoth sticks an elbow into Johnny's face, causing him to become disoriented on the mat from the shock of the blow. Thoth gets his vertical base, and starts laying in some stomps. Dangerous does his best to intelligently defend himself against the thrusting boots, trying to roll into the impacts to lessen their effect. Thoth stops his boots suddenly, and starts running headlong into the ropes. Johnny tries to sit up, shaking off the effects of the boots to his face. He gets his back up off the mat, but Thoth is heading back in his direction! He aims his body like a missile, and drives his left knee into the back of Johnny Dangerous's head! The crowd roars as Johnny sinks right back down, and the announcers voice their reaction as Thoth hungrily goes for the pin...

 

The referee counts one... two... but no, Johnny Dangerous is still able to get his legs up, and kick out of the pin. “First pin of the match, goes to Thoth,” says Mak. “A definite psychological advantage?”

 

“Absolutely, Mak. Thoth controls the pace of this matchup now. At the same time, the pressure is on him to not make any mistakes.” Thoth pulls Dangerous up by his jet black hair, and lands some punches in, backing him into the corner. With a firm grip of Johnny's arm, Thoth whips his opponent in to the corner on the other side. Now, with a full head of steam, Thoth charges in, and bends his body forward, driving his shoulder into his foe's midsection! The shoulder digs in satisfyingly. Thoth gets to his feet and steps back, before performing another Irish Whip, sending Johnny to the corner whence he originally came. Thoth gets his motion going once more, and charges into the corner again, baring the point of his shoulder-

 

But Johnny spins out of the way at the last second! Thoth's left shoulder flies into the unprotected steel pole holding up the ropes, and Thoth convulses in pain from between the second and third ropes. Thinking quickly, Johnny schoolboys Thoth over, and the referee's hand slaps once, slaps twice, but Thoth pulls himself up and out of the pinning predicament before a count of three. Before Thoth can get to his feet, Johnny rolls right by him and grabs ahold of his left arm.

 

“Johnny Dangerous has returned the favor with a pinfall attempt on Thoth! Looks like he couldn't avoid making a mistake,” says Mak Francis. Johnny wrenches back on th arm, and Thoth winces in pain. The ref gets in his face and asks if he wishes to give up. Thoth simply shakes his head.

 

Meanwhile, on the outside, Kibagami starts chanting, “You fucked up ! You fucked up!” The crowd nearby him imitates the chant. Johnny gives it a passing glance of attention, nothing more, as he continues to tweak the softened shoulder of his opponent. Thoth starts moving around, trying to find a way to get out of the hold, or at least alleviate the pressure, perhaps by making it more awkward for Johnny Dangerous to continue to apply the hold.

 

Thoth tries to twist and maneuver his body, forcing Johnny to follow him. However, this is difficult because his left arm and shoulder really hurt. Thoth starts focusing on his legs, and manages to flip himself over, forcing Johnny to reach over Thoth's body to continue applying the hold. Thoth aims a kick at the inner forearm of his foe, and causes Johnny to reel in pain! Thoth gets to his feet, and stomps away on the face looking up at him. He tries to go for a pin, but his left arm is too weak, and he can do no more than to let go of the legs he is trying to hook. He lays in another pair of boots, and storms over to his corner, and leans down, having some words with Kibagami.

 

“What's going on here? You think they're even on the same side?” muses King. A camera dashes in, trying to catch the conversation.

 

“-no, this is ridiculous. You need get ahold of yourself.”

 

“And you need to get ahold of my junk! Uhuhuhuhuhuh-”

 

“Argh, fuck this,” says Thoth, leaving his crouch, and turning back to Johnny Dangerous, who is lying on the mat – oh wait, he WAS lying on the mat, but now he's up, and closing the distance fast... and it's a Shotei Palmstrike right upside his damn head! Thoth sinks back listless into the corner.

 

"Every time Thoth starts getting the upper hand, he makes a classic mistake! Whether it's going to the well once too often, or getting distracted on the outside, Thoth is making some rookie mistakes here!" exclaims Mak. King adds, "And Johnny Dangerous is capitalizing on them like a pro," and this statement is further punctuated by the secret agent driving his shoulder into Thoth's own left shoulder. "It's only been a short time, and Johnny already has a body part targeted. If Thoth doesn't get his act together and focus, his return match dreams are going to be like Nathaniel Kibagami's brain: Up in smoke." King pauses for a moment. "It was funny when I thought of it, but making fun of Kibagami? Kind of sad now."

 

Johnny whips Thoth into the opposite corner, and now it is he doing the charging, bringing his impressive speed into focus... but Thoth gets a boot up, to intercept the charging danger!

 

...

 

...but Johnny sees it coming, and puts on the brakes! As Thoth lowers his foot, Johnny closes the distance with another step in, and delivers another Shotei to the side of the head! Thoth slumps down again, and Johnny pulls him forward. The former Balancer plops face down to the mat, and Johnny eagerly rolls him over for the pin. Referee gets one, and two, but Thoth shoots his right arm, his good arm, up off the mat, lifting his shoulder and breaking the count. At this point, though, Johnny is in complete control. He raises a finger to the sky, nodding solemnly to the crowd. He grabs Thoth, and hoists him up onto his shoulders. The crowd knows what is coming, it only needs to happen at this point. Johnny takes a step forward, another now, now his momentum propels him forward, he cannot stop, he lets it take over...

 

And flips his body over, spiking Thoth into the mat! “Spinal Explosion by Johnny Dangerous!” is the call from the announce table as Johnny springs back for the pinfall cover.

 

ONE! TWO! THR- Thoth gets a shoulder up. “The hand was coming down for three,” says Mak Francis. “That was awful close. This match has been basically all Johnny Dangerous!”

 

“We don't know what Thoth has been doing in his off time,” remarks King, “But it seems like one thing Thoth hasn't been doing, is wrestling. Thoth is being outclassed, outthunk, and outgunned. If he doesn't do something... anything, he's done.”

 

Johnny can feel the tide of the match crashing down in his favor. He grabs Thoth, and whips him to the ropes, but Thoth grabs onto, clings onto the ropes he is thrown into, and immediately falls gracelessly onto his back, rolling to the outside.

 

“Thoth taking a moment, catching his breath on the outside. He needs to slow the pace down of the match, catch his breath, and catch his bearings. He needs to find his own rhythm, and not get caught up in his opponent's.”

 

Quickly, Johnny Dangerous follows him to the outside. Before Thoth can react, Johnny shoves him into the corner of the ring, where a steel pole that juts out of the ring stands steadfast. Thoth's softened shoulder slams into it, and he cries out in pain, but he remains standing, trying mindlessly now, to get away from his aggressor, who is in hot pursuit. Thoth turns another corner, and Johnny follows, but an expected turn of events places Nathaniel Kibagami in the Barracuda's path. Seeing no danger inherent in the man, he tries to sidestep.

 

Kibagami sidesteps in front him. Johnny tries again, but Kibagami will not let him pass like that. Kibs laughs in his face, and it's either sentiment, or the stench or who the hell knows what, but it reviles the secret agent, who tries to facepalm Kibagami out of his face.

 

A man who has honor once, always remembers his honor, despite his state or presence within world's society. Nathaniel Kibagami's honor is in violence. The vapid, faraway look is washed away with rage. Kibagami grabs the back of Johnny's head, and slams it into the steel pole in the corner. His hand still full of Johnny's skull, he rams it into the apron. Then again. Again and again. He grunts out his frustration between tightly grit teeth. The referee gets involved, tells him to back it off. Kibagami takes a step backwards, blinks, and snickers. The snickers turn to giggles, which turn into full blown laughter. As if he had forgotten who he was for a moment. Kibagami hoists the dazed and hurt secret agent back into the ring, where Thoth has rolled in, just prior to Kibagami's assault, and spent a few moments recovering.

 

“Johnny Dangerous, like all of us, just underestimated the demon, Kibagami, and he paid for it. This is the opportunity Thoth needs, and it's one hell of a lucky break, but he had better capitalize on it, because I don't know if he's going to get another one.”

 

Thoth tries for the cover; after the vicious assault, the crowd murmurs with subdued expectations. Could Johnny Dangerous be down for the count? He is down for one...

 

For two..

 

But he kicks out at two and a half! Thoth wastes no time getting to his feet, as fast as his battered body will let him, anyway, and stomping anywhere his boots feel like landing on his opponent. Thoth backs himself into the ropes, then charges forward, now falling forward, his elbow pointed like a dagger in front of him, ready to strike. The dagger falls into the heart of Johnny Dangerous, and Thoth hesitates before making a cover. Another two count, but an elbow alone will not keep Johnny down. Thoth is ahead of this notion, already pulling Johnny up off the mat. He hooks an arm around his opponent's neck and grabs the top of his tights. He bends his knees and pops his hips to get the lift he needs to hoist Johnny Dangerous into the air sharply and crisply! Like a pendulum being pushed, Johnny curves hard and slams down at the point of no return!

 

“Suplex by Thoth. He's starting to put together some offense here, but he has to keep it up.” Thoth lifts his opponent to his feet again, and lifts him up. Thoth has a size advantage over the Barracuda, and he uses it by running wildly towards the corner, slamming the Barracuda's back against the thick buckle meat. Thoth gets in close, and starts firing elbows to the face, as fast as he can. Left, and right, back and forth, trying to bounce his foe's head like a pinball. Johnny tries to escape by dashing to the side, using his speed, but Thoth throws knees to block his path, and further wear down his opponent's midsection. Johnny doubles over in pain and exhaustion, and Thoth flips him out of the corner with a snap mare, followed by a kick to the back of head to put the man down prone. Thoth steps through the ropes and out to the apron.

 

“They don't call him the Balancer anymore, it seems, so let's see if he still knows how to balance on the top rope,” quips King, as Thoth ascends the turnbuckles. He steadies himself with his arms, and then bends his knees. He is flying now, his knees bent once again, aiming them like a point at his target... and he connects!

 

“Thoth with his classic knee drop off the top rope! He's going for the cover, this might do it...”

 

Thoth gets one, and two, and one quarter now, one half now, but Johnny Dangerous kicks out!

 

“Thoth has the momentum now; that knee drop is going to slow anyone down. But can Thoth seal the deal? What kind of things can we expect from his repertoire since his absence?”

 

Thoth surveys the damage, stalks his prey, thinks about his next move. Johnny Dangerous has rolled onto his side and is breathing heavily, trying to suck in the wind that was knocked out of him. Thoth forces him onto his back again, and grabs both his legs. He tucks the left leg under the right one, and with them firmly in grasp, turns Johnny over onto his stomach, wrenching back!

 

“Wow, that's a Texas Cloverleaf! I don't think I've seen Thoth use that before; he was never much of a submission wrestler,” remarks Mak.

 

“Well, according to my calculations, and one of these sheets of paper the staff is always putting in front of me,” adds King, “Thoth is into his 30's now. Combine that with his ring rust, and he's just not going to have the speed, or the agility, that he used to. He's going to get some of that back with some ring experience, but for right now, he needs to slow things down.”

 

Thoth wrenches back, putting ever more pressure on the lower back of Johnny Dangerous. The referee slams himself into Johnny's space- “Whaddya say, Johnny? You wanna give it up?”

 

“No!” shouts Johnny. Seconds later:

 

“Whaddya say, Johnny? Give it up? Give it up?”

 

“Fucking hell, no!” Johnny says, angrily. He squints his eyes. His body continues to be lifted up against Thoth's torso as a fulcrum. His arms are free, though, and he reaches out, he claws, he scratches against the canvas, and somehow, pulls himself forward, bit by bit. Thoth grits his teeth, tries to plant his legs, and hold on. He has the pressure down on Johnny, but he can't easily stop his forward momentum.

 

“Johnny's clawing, clawing forward. Can he make the ropes? It may be his only chance?”

 

Thoth looks behind him, and sees that his prey is making a break for it. He stands up, and starts to pull Dangerous back to the center of the ring, but Dangerous scampers forward suddenly on his forearms, and desperately hooks the bottom rope!

 

The referee starts his five-count. Thoth remembers to hold on until four. Thoth lets go of the legs he holding, and stands up. He takes his time laying in some stomps to the sore and softened back of his foe. Even so, Johnny Dangerous uses the leverage of the ropes to pull himself up. He is on his knees as Thoth tries to lay in crushing forearms to the lumbar region. Yet, Johnny, to the growing roars of the crowd, gets to his feet! Thoth, in desperation, whips Johnny to the ropes on the far side, perhaps to get away from him. Thoth may have a size advantage, but Johnny has great strength for a man his size. Too much time in close quarters combat, especially against a man who knows whatever the crap it is they teach at secret agent school, the kind of thing Thoth isn't too keen on finding out, either the easy way, or the hard way, is trouble. Johnny comes back off of the ropes, and Thoth swings a vicious forearm with his right arm, but Johnny ducks under and continues running, and after coming off the ropes and charging towards an unsuspecting Thoth, he goes for his classic Spinning Heel Kick, rotating his body in the direction of his momentum, bringing his legs around at the very end of it all, but Thoth drops to his belly! He hits the dirt, and Johnny eats dirt. Johnny tries to get to his feet, but Thoth comes from behind, and with a hook of the neck, Thoth hurls himself forward!

 

“Bulldog on Johnny Dangerous! Thoth's building the momentum now!”

 

“Wrestling is like riding a bike, Mak Francis.”

 

“What, that it's super gay?”

 

“Er, no. No, it's that you never forget. Dude, that's wrong. Bikes are awesome.”

 

Thoth covers Johnny Dangerous, and the referee counts:

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THR- No, Johnny still kicks out! Thoth gets up, and pauses himself. What does he have left that can get the job done, if Johnny kicks out of escapes from the best of his offense?

 

Well, one thing.

 

Thoth pulls Johnny up by his jet black hair, and shouts back to Kibagami, “It's over! I'm going for it,” and scoops Johnny Dangerous up. The crowd knows what is coming:

 

“Thoth is attempting his finishing move, the Riot of the Blood!” shouts Mak Francis. “A cradle tombstone piledriver that has led him to many championship reigns, is making its return here at Genesis 9!”

 

Thoth hoists him now, trying to cradle his arms together, but Johnny's fighting, escaping now, and he slips out the back door! Johnny gets behind Thoth now, and lifts him up!

 

“MI SLAM! MI SLAM!” exclaims Suicide King. Johnny gets him up and starts to spin, but Thoth focuses on keeping his body straight, and lands on his feet. Quickly, he scampers to the ropes and rolls under the bottom; to the outside of the ring. He turns to face his aggressor, who is still in the ring, shouting at him to get inside and come get his ass kicked.

 

Thoth turns to the referee and starts berating him.

 

“You gonna let him talk to me like that? This is supposed to be a wrestling match. Calm him down!”

 

The referee starts arguing with Thoth, that it's not his responsibility to take care of such problems. Thoth remains steadfast in his argument, and the referee exercises his authority by beginning a 10 count. Thoth continues his confrontation, while Johnny paces back angrily, back and forth inside the ring. The crowd's murmurs grow.

 

“Johnny, look behind you!” shouts Mak Francis, but Nathaniel Kibagami has already clambered onto the apron, and is holding a metal object of some kind. Johnny hears the noise, and turns around, only to get clocked in the head! He goes down viciously hard, and Kibagami hops back off of the apron, his dark work now complete. He throws the metal object in some odd direction.

 

Then he starts humming and doing some kind of wacky strut.

 

“Kibagami just ran classic interference for Thoth here, and I am just absolutely astonished that this has happened. Seriously, listen to the anger in my voice,” says Suicide King, with pathos. “But seriously, what the hell is Kibagami doing? Is he proud of himself, or is he having a seizure? Honestly, kind of hard to tell.”

 

Johnny, amazingly, is already stirring, trying to get to his feet and recover from the heinous metal blow he has just received. Thoth slides back into the ring, feigning defeat in his tete-a-tete with the referee, who has counted up to 5. The referee turns around to see Johnny in some kind of state of disarray, one that he did not expect. But he didn't see what happened, and the referee cannot make assumptions. Thoth lifts Johnny Dangerous into the air again, and scoops him. This time, he has little difficulty cradling the leg. He bends the knees, and drives Johnny Dangerous into the mat like a railroad spike! For a second, Johnny Dangerous folds like an accordion, then falls forward onto his back. Thoth makes the cover, and hooks the leg. The referee's hand lifts once, falls and lifts again, falls and lifts...

 

And falls for three! The bell rings to signal the end to this confrontation.

 

“You got the touch... You got the power... YEAH!” The amazingly inappropriate music plays once more.

 

Kibagami rolls into the ring and starts jumping around like a doofus, raising Thoth's arm into the air. The referee raises his Thoth's arm and makes the win official, as Funyon speaks:

 

“The winner of this match... THOTH!”

 

“Thoth victorious in his return match, in huge part thanks to Nathaniel Kibagami. He gave a pretty good effort before he had this greased-up douchebag finish the job for him. Hopefully he'll get his rhythm back in time, the less I see of Kibagami, the better.”

 

“Well, it's always good to have new blood in the SWF, even if it is old, satanic blood,” says King.

 

Thoth rolls out of the ring, Kibagami in tow. As he heads up the ramp, he turns and raises in arms in triumph. One more contest decided, one more winner at Genesis.

[King Cucaracha 0]

SWF World Tag Team Championships

TKO © VS. The Breslins

 

 

“Fans, our next match is built on grudges and one-upmanship,” Mak Francis says. The camera zooms on the two announces sitting at their ringside table. “TKO will defend their tag titles against The Breslins shortly. This is TKO’s first defense of the belts they won two months ago at Jamaican Me Crazy.”

 

“TKO is going to have their hands full,” Suicide King chimes. “Because if Luke Breslin is willing to give up a World Title shot to face these guys alongside his brother, he’s gotta be a little insane.”

 

“Luke Breslin, in the second match of his career, defeated TORU Takahara. Well, TORU and Natasha. That didn’t sit well with TKO, as KOJI and Chris Card were quick to get to the ring after the match.”

 

Footage of Luke receiving sandwich roundhouse kicks from TKO is shown. The crowd at the BI-LO Center are treated to Leo Breslin’s federation return. His diving chair shot to Chris Card gets a strong cheer. Leo’s gut shot and chair-assisted removal of TKO from the ring bring even louder cheers.

 

“If that wasn’t bad enough,” Mak begins. “Luke’s next match in singles action versus MANSON saw the dismantling of his brother backstage. This was all shown on the screen while Luke beat the odds against not only MANSON, but the uninvited Chris Card and Natasha, as well.”

 

Footage of Luke’s retreat backstage following his match is shown. An attempt to find and assist his brother ends when TKO emerges and meets him at the top of the ramp. TORU’s Jouseishin knocks Luke out enough for TKO, Natasha and Chris Card to carry Luke back into the ring, where he is taken out by MANSON’s Instant Hell Murder and pinned, Card acting as referee and Natasha ringing the bell incessantly.

 

“And we all thought it was going to culminate at Our Super Sweet Sixteen,” King says as the picture returns to them. “Dr. Pirata was teamed with The Breslins, and Munich with TKO. But instead of seeing TKO and The Breslins square off in competition, TKO brought Leo to the outside as soon as he was tagged in, and the match ended in a countout.”

 

“And finally, folks, a brutal incident…” Mak says.

 

Footage of Luke’s arm being smashed with a pipe is shown. The ensuing Tiger Driver onto the hood of Luke’s car brings some negative heat from the audience directed towards TKO.

 

“That, of course, followed Luke’s third straight victory in singles competition against Munich, and secured his shot at the World Title,” Mak says. “But, as we all know, that title opportunity never came to fruition.”

 

The arena is sprinkled with multi-colored strobes zipping back and forth as “Knights of Cydonia” by Muse hits, and the Breslins wait for the quiet neighing of the horses to end and the opening guitar to begin before emerging onto the stage. “The following contest, scheduled for one fall, is for the SWF Tag Team Titles!” This gets a rise out of the crowd, frantic over the appearance of Luke and Leo. “Introducing the challengers, at a combined weight of 478 pounds, from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania…” Funyon waits a moment as the brothers descend either side of the ramp, acknowledging and high-fiving fans along the way. “Luke and Leo…. THEEEEEE BREEEESSSLIIIIINNSSSS!”

 

“Don’t let Funyon’s nonchalant delivery fool you,” Mak says as Leo runs a quick circle around the ring and high fives as many fans as possible. “Luke and Leo are in this to do a lot more than just challenge.”

 

“That’s right,” King says as Luke finds a corner in the ring and climbs to the second turnbuckle. “They’re in it to be embarrassed again.”

 

Luke holds his hands high in the air as his brother slides under the bottom rope to the center of the ring and jumps up, bouncing back and forth on his feet. A turning jump off the turnbuckle and a few steps brings Luke to Leo, and the two brothers exchange a double high-five and speak motivationally to one another.

 

“The fans really like these two, and I think it’s because they stand up to TKO,” Mak says.

 

“Well, they’re not to first people to stand up to TKO. But what have The Breslins really done to prove they hold any sort of candle to this team besides a victory in singles competition?”

 

The upbeat atmosphere is turned down when Mad Capsule Markets’ “Tribe” booms from the speakers. Electronic beats are mixed with heavy boos, and moving strobes light up the unhappy crowd. “And their opponents, at a combined weight of 483 pounds, from Saitama Prefacture, Japan…” Funyon says as Chris Card and Natasha make their way down the ramp. “They are the SWF Tag Team Champions… The TORU KOJI Organization… TEEEE-KAAAAY-OOOO!”

 

“The Breslins don’t have nearly as much momentum going into this match as they think,” King says. “And the presence of Chris Card and Natasha take even more wind out of their sails.”

 

KOJI and TORU appear as the first guitar riff hits, then fold their arms and glower out at the crowd while the muted Japanese chanting builds up to… {{BOOM!}} “TRIIIIIIBE! Why don’t you strike, justify your mind!” Following the pyrotechnics, the two walk deliberately down the ramp towards the waiting Card and Natasha. Intense stares between the two teams, even from a distance, show the tension to the already knowing crowd.

 

“I know Luke and Leo aren’t happy to see Card and Natasha, but they had to expect their being ringside. It’s unfortunately something they’ve dealt with before, and they’ll have to deal with again,” Mak says.

 

A silent, still intensity permeates. TKO stares straight at The Breslins while they stand in the middle of the ring. Natasha prolongs this by sliding KOJI’s coat off slowly, followed by TORU’s. She hands them to Chris Card, who looks back and forth between his team and The Breslins, a grin of approval and anticipation on his face. Natasha pulls the sunglasses from both faces next and hands them to Card as well. She finally turns and looks at the brothers for the first time, delivering a mischievous smile and a mocking kiss blown from her fingertips.

 

“Look at that vixen,” King starts. “She knows how to get a man’s attention.”

 

“She knows how to stick her nose where it doesn’t belong, too.”

 

“What? No? She just blew a good luck kiss to The Breslins. How courteous…”

 

KOJI and TORU are on the apron, and each take their leap into the ring over the top rope. They flip off The Breslins in traditional fashion. But instead of taking offense to it or signaling back, The Breslins simply move to their corner and exchange one more high five before Luke steps to the apron. Leo turns around to see TKO in their corner, Chris Card up on the apron giving them some final words before the match begins.

 

“I guess Card wants to give these two some advice,” Mak says. “I find it hard to believe that TKO doesn’t know what to do though.”

 

“Oh, they know exactly what to do. They’re going to deliver a merciless squash the likes of which we haven’t seen in quite some time.”

 

“Leo’s speaking to referee Sexton Hardcastle, probably trying to get him to break up the conversation and get the match underway.”

 

“Sexton would prove to be quite the imbecile if he chose to interrupt TKO before they’re ready. They’re the champions. They can take as much time as they see fit.”

 

Leo turns to Luke and gives him a quick nod. Luke climbs back into the ring against the referee’s will. Leo moves against the turnbuckle and runs forward while Luke drops to all fours just in time for his brother to propel off his back and dive into the threesome. KOJI and TORU are pushed into the ropes adjacent to their corner, but Card lands on his ass outside the ring.

 

“What is this fool thinking!?” King asks. “He’s adding fuel to a fire that I’m sure is already raging.”

 

“He’s getting things started! The Breslins have waited long enough for a tag match against TKO, and they don’t want to wait any longer.”

 

“Where’s Luke going?”

 

Leo backtracks all the way to his corner. He’s stalked by KOJI and TORU as Luke ducks to the outside and sticks his arm under the apron. He comes back out with a pair of handcuffs. The crowd’s reaction is mixed. Luke runs full speed at Natasha, who stands at the foot of the ramp. Luke grabs her wrist and holds it tight as he pulls her to the side of the ramp, where the steel guardrails stand.

 

“No way,” King mutters. “What is he doing!?”

 

“Natasha is writhing, kicking and screaming, but to no avail. Leo is getting battered by TKO right now, but… it might be worth it! Is this the plan Luke briefly mentioned earlier tonight?”

 

Luke manages to hook the cuffs to a rail and then to Natasha’s wrist. She tugs at them, but obviously can’t escape. Luke turns and rushes back into the ring, passing a bewildered Chris Card. Card climbs to the apron, but Sexton prevents him from getting into the ring. The referee tries creating some semblance of order by only allowing the four competitors inside. KOJI and TORU punch away at Leo, who is caught in the corner with no escape. Luke takes advantage of Card’s distraction and gets on his knees behind TKO, lifting both arms between both pairs of legs and delivering two low blows.

 

“OUCH!” Mak screams. “KOJI and TORU are both bent over now. Leo with an uppercut onto TORU! The big man backs away.”

 

“This is ridiculous! The Breslins are breaking all the rules!”

 

TORU rests against a set of ropes. Leo bends and tightens before springing upwards and extending his legs out in a dropkick, connecting with TORU’s face and sending him tumbling backwards to the outside. KOJI no longer favors his marbles. He runs at Leo, but the quick Breslin sidesteps him and drops to bring KOJI down with a drop toe hold.

 

“The Breslins are doing everything right! They’ve effectively taken Natasha out of the equation, and they’re getting the crowd behind them even more than they were before! And… what now?! Leo’s on all fours again…”

 

KOJI’s on his knees, bent forward, his arms draped over the middle rope, exposing his back. Leo bounces off the opposite ropes. His feet find his brother’s back again. The long airtime is ended with Leo’s elbow smashing into the small of KOJI’s back. KOJI falls off the rope and ends up lying just at the ring’s edge.

 

“What in the hell is going on!?” King says in disbelief.

 

“Luke is in his corner on the outside apron. TORU is recovering from his tumble to the outside. Chris Card is trying to help Natasha out of her predicament, but… she’s stuck. I think Card’s finally realizing that. He’s moving back to his men, towards TORU. KOJI and Leo are in the ring and—”

 

“I didn’t need you to actually tell me where everyone was and what they were doing. This is… what the hell!? Did Sexton just signal for the bell?”

 

*ding ding ding*

 

“It’s about time,” Mak says.

 

“TKO has been ambushed! Distmantled, if you consider Natasha.”

 

“Chris Card is doing the smart thing and getting KOJI to his corner. Maybe he realizes that The Breslins outdid them in this pre-match fiasco.”

 

“Fine, fine. Now it’s time to see TKO tear The Breslins to shreds.”

 

“They need to be on their feet to do that. Leo is helping TORU up.”

 

Leo pushes TORU into The Breslins’ corner, delivering a few punches to the midsection. He pulls TORU a few steps away before bending and sending a shoulder into the same area the punches hit. TORU’s pressed into the turnbuckle by a second shoulder, and a third, before Leo tags in Luke. The younger Breslin enters the ring and steps onto the second ropes on either side of TORU.

 

“Luke took quite a beating from TKO before the match even started. I hope he’s had the time to recover,” Mak says.

 

“He’s just pounding away at TORU’s skull. I’m sure he’s fine.”

 

“Punch after punch connecting! And the crowd counting along… TEN!”

 

Luke hops off the ropes and grabs TORU’s head, pulling him forward and letting him fall onto all fours after the attacks from both brothers. TORU begins crawling away, but Luke is quick to tag his brother. Leo leaps onto the top rope from the apron and springboards into the ring, dropping a leg across the back of TORU’s neck.

 

“Big air from Leo!” Mak exclaims. “He rolls TORU over. One! Two! TORU’s out. Man’s got resilience, that’s for sure.”

 

“Luke was in the ring for all of twenty seconds.”

 

“Luke packs a bigger punch. Literally. So he came in, did his stuff, and now he’s getting more rest on the apron. Smart match so far from The Breslins.”

 

Leo is pulling TORU up, but the big man’s arms explode up and out, shoving Leo’s arms out of the way just enough for TORU to send a heaving shove into Leo’s chest. After bouncing off the ropes, Leo returns to duck a clothesline. He comes off the opposite ropes and drops down. A low dropkick takes out TORU’s right knee from behind.

 

“This crowd is solidly behind The Breslins,” Mak says. “Each offensive maneuver we see from these kids gets the crowd louder!”

 

With TORU on his knees, Leo finds the same ropes he just hit and bounces off them again, coming back and sending both feet into TORU’s back with another dropkick that puts TORU onto all fours again. Leo quickly gets to his feet and drapes himself over TORU. After some quick positioning and a sudden flip, Leo locks in a rolling armbar.

 

“Leo is really wrenching that arm. He’s mobilized TORU,” Mak says.

 

“Still looks like TORU’s strength is making it hard for Leo to hold him in place.”

 

“Of course, TORU’s not the kind of guy to lay there and let the pain continue.”

 

Resistance from TORU only serves as a prompt for Leo to put all of his power into controlling the arm and keeping it strained. The crowd is strongly behind Leo, cheering him on as he keeps TORU in the middle of the ring and puts him through more pain. Sudden boos replace the cheers when KOJI steps into the ring. He takes a few steps and stomps Leo in the chest, right next to TORU’s arm. KOJI is pushed back towards his corner by Sexton, but the hold is broken and TORU rolls away. Luke complains with a few disapproving yells to the referee. He keeps his cool and remains on the apron.

 

“KOJI just had to interrupt there, didn’t he, King?”

 

“That’s what partnership is all about. Helping your partner and securing a victory. You should know that by now.”

 

“At least Sexton has KOJI back on the outside. And Leo still looks to have the upper hand. He’s on his feet.”

 

Leo moves towards TORU, who struggles to stand. He’s helped up the rest of the way and pushed into the ropes. Leo whips him across the ring. The two men meet in the middle, but Leo is snuck by a sidestepping TORU’s lariat. Leo hits the ground hard, and TORU drops to one knee after delivering the blow. He makes his way to his corner in a concentrated effort, tagging KOJI in as Leo climbs to his feet.

 

“KOJI’s finally seeing some in-ring activity here, and I’m sure he’s ready to go,” King says.

 

“Leo’s looking for his corner, but KOJI’s got him from behind. Leo’s going up and… back suplex!”

 

“KOJI smashed him onto the mat. And the high angle KOJI executed made it even more painful on Leo’s spine.”

 

KOJI gets to his feet and walks a half-circle around Leo’s head before lifting a foot and lowering a boot onto Leo’s throat. The blatant, demeaning choke is counted off by the referee, and KOJI relents just in time. Leo rolls onto his side, grabbing his throat and coughing. He sits himself up. KOJI pulls his opponent up and grabs an arm. Leo winces when his arm is twisted and wrenched.

 

“KOJI’s taking Leo to the corner… to TKO’s corner,” Mak says.

 

“TORU tags himself in as KOJI’s ascending the turnbuckles backwards… and KOJI’s doing a top-rope walk, still holding Leo’s strangely bent arm.”

 

The legal member of TKO positions himself next to Leo and gets onto one knee, the other jutting outwards underneath the awkwardly positioned victim. KOJI jumps from the top rope, dropping a hard elbow onto Leo’s shoulder and forcing him to drop. Instead of finding the mat, Leo’s exposed ribs drop onto TORU’s hard knee. Leo rolls off the knee. He grabs for the ropes with one arm and pulls himself to his feet while TORU just waits for him. Leo’s fighting attitude sends him running at TORU. TORU lets him rush, and simply catches Leo and lifts him off his feet.

 

“No Through Road!” King screams. “He’s not going anywhere!”

 

“That spinebuster just has to knock the life out of anyone who endures it. It’s not a complicated or rare move, but TORU’s is just… it’s body-breaking, really.”

 

“TORU’s going for the pin. And… Leo gets out before the three drops.”

 

“But he’s not being given a break.”

 

“This isn’t a 9-to-5 job, Mak. This is TKO we’re dealing with. No breaks…”

 

TORU whips Leo into TKO’s corner, and TORU runs after him, hitting a clothesline that feels more like a car crash. Leo is drooping downwards, somewhat drained, but TORU brings him back up by lifting his boot to find Leo’s throat. TORU uses his hands to balance himself on the top rope, and KOJI tags himself in. Sexton signals the tag and urges TORU to relent. When he does, he pulls Leo out of the corner and lets him stumble forward. KOJI picks up where TORU left off and runs after Leo. A quick bulldog takes Leo down once again.

 

“It looks like TKO has Leo pretty isolated in the ring,” Mak says.

 

“And I’m sure Luke isn’t looking forward to getting into the ring, if he ever gets the opportunity. TKO is running like a well-oiled machine.”

 

KOJI stands over Leo, taunting him in Japanese. The crowd responds with a chorus of boos. KOJI looks around at the fans, disgusted, and screams something even louder at them. He bends and smacks Leo in the back of the head. The booing increases. Leo receives another smack before KOJI pulls him up to his feet. He isn’t allowed on his feet for long. KOJI delivers a quick snapmare followed by a harsh kick to the back of the head. Leo’s forward momentum suddenly reverses. He drops onto his back, lying motionless.

 

“KOJI’s not pausing… over to the ropes and… moonsault!” King yells. “Right on the money!”

 

“He’s locking in the pin… two… thr—”

 

“Damnit!”

 

“Leo is a fighter, for sure.”

 

“Actually, he’s doing very little fighting. He’s been more of a squirmer recently.”

 

KOJI is at his corner, and TORU smacks his extended hand to tag in. The new legal man ambles towards Leo. Luke extends his arm as far as he can. His slow-moving brother inches towards him, and TORU watches with a pleased smile. Once Leo looks too close for comfort, TORU grabs his waistband and pulls him back a few feet before standing him up.

 

“TKO is teasing Leo here,” Mak says.

 

“Good. Little bitch probably likes to be teased.”

 

“Uhh, King, I don’t know if you can use that kind of—”

 

“This is Genesis, Mak. Live a little.”

 

TORU whips Leo into a set of ropes, and bends at the hips. Upon Leo’s return, TORU propels up and sends Leo flipping over, giving the younger Breslin some high air before he drops onto his back. TORU turns and presses the tip of his boot against Leo’s forehead. He slides it off and scrapes Leo’s forehead. Leo grabs at his head, trying to retreat. TORU forces him back into position. Another boot scrape gives TORU time to walk a couple of circles around his victim.

 

“TORU doing more taunting than anything else,” Mak says.

 

“That’s a time-tested, technical move that requires great skill and poise. Look how TORU balances on one foot and rests the other squarely on Leo’s head,” King says as a replay is shown. “He spins smoothly, almost angelically, disorienting and further injuring Leo, using as little strength as possible.”

 

“Is that really worth showing in a replay, King?”

 

“It’s funny, that’s for sure. Look at Leo. Like a fish out of water…”

 

TORU watches from behind as Leo gets to all fours and struggles to his knees. Leo searches briefly for his opponent. The Japanese passes him and runs into the ropes Leo faces. TORU continues like a train and lifts a leg, sending his heavy knee into Leo’s chest. Leo falls backwards, flips over with his momentum, and ends on his stomach with his feet resting on the first rope. TORU walks to his corner and tags in KOJI.

 

“KOJI leaping onto the top rope from the apron and… springboard… leg drop! He landed right on the back of Leo’s exposed neck!” Mak exclaims.

 

“That was flawless… beautiful, ” King says

 

“KOJI’s turning him over for the pin, getting those feet off the rope,”

 

“ONE!”

 

“Leo’s got a leg back up there!” Mak says excitedly

 

“TWO!”

 

“Card just knocked his foot off!”

 

“THREE—Damn!”

 

“Luke with the save! But here comes TORU!”

 

The relieved and cheering crowd anticipates a collision between Luke and TORU, but TORU’s rush is blocked by Sexton Hardcastle. The younger Breslin waits for KOJI to get to his feet, then swiftly kicks him in the gut and takes him down with a DDT. Sexton sends TORU outside the ring just as Luke returns to the apron. Sexton turns to see KOJI down and grabbing at his head, but chooses to think nothing of it.

 

“Now Luke’s interfering? I thought the Breslins were all righteous and crap.”

 

“They handcuffed Natasha. They didn’t beat her. And Luke only interfered here because of Card’s involvement.”

 

“Oh, please. Sexton wouldn’t even have seen that foot.”

 

“I’m surprised we saw it with how quickly Card was there to knock it off. He’s like a hawk.”

 

KOJI is faster to his feet than Leo, but any attempt to get to TORU would probably result in Leo reaching Luke. So KOJI grabs Leo and pushes him against the ropes. He whips Leo across the ring. Leo bounces back towards KOJI, but he ducks the high roundhouse kick intended to take his head off. Leo hits the ropes again and runs towards a turning KOJI. Leo leaps and sends his elbow into KOJI’s chest. The momentum and impact send KOJI to the ground and Leo spinning almost two times off of KOJI. Leo bounces back to his feet. KOJI does the same, a bit slower. The two face each other. Leo’s kick to the stomach is caught in KOJI’s hands. But Leo escapes by jumping off his grounded foot and spinning it up and over, catching KOJI’s jaw in the process.

 

“Enziguiri!” Mak says. “Now that was a connection! Did you hear that, King?”

 

“I heard it. Now we’ve got a double retreat to the corners.”

 

“Yes! Here… we… go! Luke in, TORU in, and… they tie it up in the middle of the ring!”

 

“How exhilarating…”

 

TORU breaks an arm away from the elbow-and-collar tie-up, using his free hand to grab Luke’s wrist. TORU ducks under Luke’s arm while his twists it once with an arm wrench. Luke shows some nifty athleticism by performing a body roll to reverse the wrenching. A punch to TORU’s jaw forces him to release Luke’s arm. Luke swings for the face again, but TORU’s raised arm blocks it. Their touching arms lead to another tie-up that turns into a power struggle.

 

“TORU and Luke have met before in singles action, so I’m sure that these two ring-savvy competitors remember their match and will be looking for that opening they know exists in their opponent’s defense,” Mak says.

 

“TORU’s got the strength,” King says. “He’s pushing this lock-up towards his corner, albeit slowly.”

 

“That’s not good for Luke, and he knows it. He’s pushing back, trying to go pound for pound against TORU.”

 

“Stupid.”

 

Luke is only a few feet from being helpless in TKO’s corner. He abandons the strength battle to the shock of TORU and instead opts to pull TORU down into a side headlock. Luke’s control only lasts long enough for him to turn TORU and takes him a couple of steps closer to the corner. TORU manages to get a hand on the small of Luke’s back, and his strength shoves Luke out of the hold and forward into the ropes. Luke runs back and meets a heavy shoulder block from TORU as he erects himself. Instead of falling flat onto his back, Luke voluntarily takes the hit and flips over. He finds himself against the ropes. As he stands, TORU rushes at him, but Luke drops onto his back and brings the top rope with him. TORU stumbles over it and to the outside.

 

“A nasty spill to the outside,” Mak says, “gives Luke the upper-hand.”

 

“Here comes Chris Card to help his man to his feet. That’s a solid manager right there, folks.”

 

“Let’s not hang out for too long, guys, because… here he comes… SUICIDE DIVE! Luke takes out TORU and Card!”

 

Luke is the fastest to get his feet, but that overstatement is evident as KOJI takes his time walking around the ring towards Luke. Just as he turns the last corner to approach him, Leo’s running jump off the apron catches him. KOJI’s neck is wrapped in Leo’s legs. The older brother protects Luke with a speedy hurricanrana that throws KOJI into the barrier wall and allows Luke enough time climb into the ring. “FOUR!” Sexton yells from the ring.

 

“Leo with an amazing move right there, and the crowd is going crazy! All of TKO is out of commission right now,” Mak says.

 

“What is Leo doing?”

 

“He’s… getting TORU to his feet.”

 

“SEVEN!” Sexton yells.

 

“TORU’s been rolled back into the ring by Leo, breaking the ten count and saving The Breslins’ chances of walking out of here as champions.”

 

“Slim chances, Mak. Slim chances…”

 

With TORU back in the ring, Luke brings him to his feet and pushes him into the nearest corner. Luke takes the time to further weaken TORU with punches to the head and midsection. A knee to the gut and a back elbow to the temple finish the barrage. Luke backs up all the way to the opposite corner. He gets a running start and leaps into the air, his feet finding the gap between the second and third rope while his fully extended arm smashes into TORU’s chest.

 

“Luke with some quick and heavy impact there,” Mak says.

 

“TORU’s stumbling out of the corner. That’s probably the smart thing to do. This seems like Luke’s comfort zone.”

 

“It sure is, King. And he really took TORU down a few notches in that exchange.”

 

Luke climbs out of his perch and runs towards TORU’s back. He jumps up and catches TORU around the neck, pulling him down and smashing his face into the mat with a bulldog. Luke’s assault continues. He pulls TORU to his feet and whips him into a set of ropes. A snap powerslam causes the ring to shake and puts TORU onto his back indefinitely. Luke hopes it’s long enough for Sexton to smack the canvas three times.

 

“One! TWO! NO, KOJI breaks it up!” Mak yells. “Despicable…”

 

“He didn’t have it, anyway. TORU was ready to break out.”

 

“And now Sexton has to push KOJI back to his corner. How many times has Sexton had to discipline TKO?”

 

“Hey! Luke just pulled Sexton out of the way. He can’t do that!”

 

“Luke’s going to school on KOJI! A flurry of punches! Capped off with a European uppercut that sends KOJI reeling back to his corner!”

 

“Look out, Luke!”

 

After taking care of KOJI, Luke turns around and takes a swift kick to the leg. TORU goes back and forth, leg to leg, with a series of kicks that bring Luke to his knees. Luke stands himself, but is additionally hoisted onto TORU’s shoulders in a fireman’s carry position. After some positioning, TORU lifts Luke up and over his head, dropping him down. Luke’s gut lands on TORU’s knee. TORU shoves him off and Luke rolls a few times before finally resting on his side.

 

“Luke’s getting up slowly here,” Mak says. “He’s on all fours and… OH MY GOD!”

 

“TORU’s knee just drove right into Luke’s skull as he was getting further up. That was… vicious. Vicious and genius and… There goes TORU!”

 

“He’s ascending the turnbuckle. This can’t be good for Luke, and he looks like he’s out.”

 

“TORU is perched and ready to go!”

 

“Luke’s stirring but… TORU’s flying—”

 

“TORU Hammer! Luke looked like he was just coming to, but not anymore! That knee just drove right into Luke’s head!”

 

“It looked like it missed the real direct impact zone, probably the temple, but… the knee did meet the top of the skull in a terrible collision.”

 

Sexton drops to his knees once TORU regains himself and drapes on top of Luke. The crowd’s urging for Luke to kick out is met by Leo’s smacking of the turnbuckle and screams of encouragement. Sexton’s arm drops for the third time, but he stops short when Luke’s right shoulder pops off the canvas, then immediately drops back down. Loud cheers erupt and TORU props himself on his knees with a look of disgust on his face.

 

“Can you believe Luke kicked out there, King?!”

 

“No. I can’t believe it. He still looks pretty out of it.”

 

“He is. TORU tags in KOJI. And Luke’s on his stomach, finally moving, finally inching towards his brother.”

 

“But KOJI’s right there with him and… Oh boy, he’s making Luke his surfboard.”

 

KOJI’s weight on Luke’s back holds him in place. Luke grimaces and groans under the pressure throughout his midsection. KOJI pulls Luke’s head off the mat and then lifts his left foot. The foot finds the back of Luke’s head, and sends it back down with a stupefying, skull-smashing stomp.

 

“HO-LY SHIT!” King says.

 

“We’ve seen that harsh move before, King.”

 

“Yes, I know. And I’ve loved it every time. But, Mak, that was an extra-brutal Darkness Stomp. Trust me.”

 

“Luke does look rather… dismantled. But that’s to be expected after—”

 

“You’re not listening to me, Mak. KOJI just… that was stronger… more personal.”

 

“I heard you, Mak. I’m not at all surprised. TKO’s evil. I just hope Luke is all right.”

 

KOJI steps off the broken boy and shoves a foot under Luke, flipping him over onto his back. KOJI tags in TORU and steps onto the apron. TORU climbs to the top turnbuckle in his corner. The lifeless Luke is once again yelled at by Leo, and the encouragements from the crowd blur into a collage of cheers. TORU dives off the top rope, touches his toes in mid-air, and drops directly on top of both of Luke’s lifted knees.

 

“Luke got his knees up! They knocked the breath right out of TORU! Luke doesn’t look much better than before, but he’s conscious.”

 

“TORU dropped onto those knees with such force. I hope he didn’t break a rib.”

 

“I wouldn’t feel so bad.”

 

Luke nears Leo. The crowd’s cheering is through the roof as TORU climbs to his feet, still favoring his midsection. Luke uses one last store of energy to move a foot forward and connect his hand with the fully outstretched arm of his brother. The hot tag burns the crowd up even more, and Leo hops over the top rope, passing his fallen brother and rushing towards TORU. Leo’s flying clothesline knocks TORU over. For good measure, Leo gets to his feet and runs to TKO’s corner, jumping and nailing KOJI in the head with a fist. KOJI stumbles to the outside as Leo turns around to meet TORU.

 

“TORU’s coming for Leo!” King yells.

 

“A superkick! TORU just got flat lined. That was lightning-fast!”

 

“That little runt pulled that out of nowhere.”

 

“Leo has brought some momentum back to the Breslin camp. And the crowd is right there with them!”

 

Leo runs towards a set of ropes and jumps. He springboards off the middle rope. A midair twist and spin lines Leo up to send a hard fist drop into TORU’s head. TORU remains on the ground, grabbing at his head. Leo gets to his feet and walks around TORU. He bends and grabs TORU’s right leg. Leo is able to turn and compromise TORU’s leg, but before he can get the other leg into the equation and complete his figure four leg lock, TORU is able to sit up enough and deliver a shot to Leo’s face. Leo releases the legs. He falls backwards into the ropes. He uses the momentum to his advantage. TORU sits himself up, but he is sent back down by a returning Leo and a dropkick to the face.

 

“A nice move there from Leo. It looked like TORU had gotten himself out of his predicament,” Mak says, “but he’s still down and Leo still has the edge.”

 

“He’s moving to a neutral corner, climbing to the top. Risky risky…”

 

TORU climbs to his feet while Leo perches above him. He dives and turns his body, ready to crash into TORU with a cross body block. TORU catches him in his arms. Leo struggles to escape, but TORU positions himself in the middle of the ring. He performs a moonsault. TORU’s weight crushes him, the speed and power of the move nearly finishing him. TORU’s quick leverage shift leads immediately to a pin attempt.

 

“Glorious!” King exclaims. “Two! Aaaand THREE! No? No three? What the hell?”

 

“Leo got out just in time. And… TORU is throwing a fit!”

 

“How do you know? You don’t understand Japanese.”

 

TORU’s movements and tone support Mak’s claim. He stands and walks around Leo, yelling Japanese phrases and throwing his arms around in disbelief. He confronts Sexton Hardcastle, whose motions signal that Leo escaped the pin just in time. Chris Card climbs onto the apron besides KOJI and calls TORU over. Leo’s stirring brings some cheers from the crowd as he moves little by little towards his corner. Card speaks to both men for a few seconds. His hands perform a squeezing motion while his face reads malice. TORU turns away from Card with a grin on his face. He stops Leo’s advancement to the corner and pulls him to his feet. Leo faces TORU for only a second before the big man wraps his arms around Leo’s midsection and lifts him off his feet, squeezing Leo with all his might in a sturdy bearhug. The initial pressure elicits a yelp of pain from Leo.

 

“Leo’s stuck in TORU’s clutches,” King says, “And the Hammer looks very comfortable where he is. Chris Card is a mad genius.”

 

“He’s a torturer. TORU is forcing the energy out of Leo, and he doesn’t have much chance of escape.”

 

“TORU’s applying all his strength. Just imagine the strain on those ribs, the internal organs… ouch!”

 

“The crowd is being deflated here also. TORU’s knocking out two birds with one stone. Maybe Card is smart…”

 

“Maybe?! Please, Mak, he’s brilliant.”

 

Luke watches helplessly from the outside as his brother struggles less and less. The pain in Leo’s eyes is evident. The uninvolved Breslin begins smacking the top turnbuckle with his hand and stomping the apron with his feet. His loud beat is picked up by a silenced crowd. Their cheers begin to bring Leo back. He bats at TORU’s back, and the crowds cheers continue and increase. TORU walks to his corner and allows KOJI to tag himself in.

 

“KOJI’s back. The legal man, which means that TORU has to… OH MY GOD!” Mak yells. “Did you see that roundhouse kick to Leo’s head?!”

 

“Of course I did. And there’s no easy way to put this, so… Leo Breslin is dead.”

 

“What? No, fans, he’s not dead. But Christ. His ribs might be crushed, and now he looks to be out cold.”

 

“TORU is laughing. KOJI’s dropping onto Leo, glaring over at Luke with the same sick smile. This is it for these brothers.”

 

“…Two, three—no! How in the hell?!”

 

The crowd’s eruption prompts KOJI to his feet. He turns and finds Chris Card and begins yelling at him. Card offers some words in return, but mostly looks shocked by Leo’s escape. KOJI returns his focus to Leo. He watches as Leo begins reacting to the clamorous onslaught of encouragement from his brother and the crowd. KOJI gives a mocking smile to near everyone and rushes to climb a turnbuckle.

 

“KOJI’s ready for the big one!” King yells.

 

“Wait! Here comes Leo!”

 

Standing bent, hands on his knees, Leo explodes up and rushes to the corner, hopping onto the second rope with his right foot and the top rope with his left foot. Leo’s right arm finds KOJI’s left, and he locks the two together before falling backwards, taking KOJI with him and flipping him with a high, fast, strong top rope arm drag.

 

“He just tossed KOJI across three-quarters of the ring!” Mak yells.

 

“How…”

 

“A burst of energy! The crowd is going nuts! That was amazing! So sudden, so unexpected, I’m sure, for KOJI, and both men are moving to their corners!”

 

The two men reach their corners at nearly the same time, KOJI a bit earlier. TORU enters the ring and begins rushing across, but Leo’s tag already occurred. Luke enters the ring and rushes also, ducking a clothesline from TORU and turning to meet him with a few punches that push him into the ropes. Luke whips TORU across the ring and catches him on his return, dropping him with a side slam. The crowd’s exciting bursts continue. TORU is ready to go almost immediately after receiving the move, but Luke is ready to meet him again. Another Irish whip brings TORU back to him.

 

“Leo’s got TORU in a sleeperhold” Mak says. “This is probably smart for The Breslins at this point in the match.”

 

“It’s also slow, and not nearly as exciting as the bearhug we saw earlier.”

 

“I’ll be the first to say that TKO has had the advantage for most of the match. That’s not to say they haven’t cheated a bit here and there, but they are performing well. And they’re performing fast, back and forth, the both of them. I think Luke wants to adjust the pace of this match.”

 

“Well, wake me up when TKO is running the pace again.”

 

TORU wiggles a bit, but Luke’s application of the sleeper allows him to stay in charge. The crowd is still cheering, realizing that Luke is slowly weakening TORU and slowing his blood flow. After nearly a minute, TORU tries another means of escape, lifting his leg and stomping with all his might on Luke’s foot. Luke screams in agony and releases the hold just enough for TORU to slip out and turn. He kicks Luke in the gut. TORU grabs for both of Luke’s arms and attempts to lock them.

 

“Here you go, King… just what you wanted.”

 

“You sure about that, Mak?”

 

“Luke’s struggling, not giving up easily… he gets his hands loose!”

 

“At least we’re out of the sleeperhold.”

 

Luke places his hands on the back of TORU’s thighs and lifts himself up, bringing TORU with him and letting the Japanese Hammer dangle behind him. Luke steadies himself before rushing downwards, his hands pushing down on TORU’s thighs, bringing him up and over, crashing his back into the mat with an Alabama Slam.

 

“So close to Hammertime. So damn close…”

 

“Luke definitely shook the ring with that one. Lots of aggression behind it. Pin here. One… Two… No, TORU’s out.”

 

“He’s bringing him back up for more. TORU will find a way…”

 

Luke tosses TORU into The Breslins’ corner and rushes in after him, delivering a spear to the midsection that folds TORU deep in the turnbuckles. TORU finally looks significantly weaker. Luke pulls him away from the corner a bit and lifts him, flipping him over and hooking his legs over the top rope. Leo assists Luke in the positioning, making sure TORU’s legs are locked appropriately in the tree of woe. Luke backs away towards the opposite corner, far enough from KOJI to avoid his swings.

 

“Luke just gave KOJI a little wink.”

 

“What a queer.”

 

“I don’t think he’s hitting on the man who brutally beat him and his brother on more than one occasion. I think he’s saying ‘watch this.’ And here he goes, full speed, and… knee to the gut!”

 

“TORU can’t even fall off the ropes after that impact.”

 

“That’s right. Leo’s keeping TORU buckled in.”

 

Luke tags Leo in, and the smaller brother steps in, immediately pulling TORU up by the neck so that his back runs parallel with the mat below. From the outside, Luke unlocks TORU’s leg. Leo tucks TORU’s head under and drops backwards, bringing TORU off the rope and dropping him with a reverse DDT that gets another rise from the crowd. Leo avoids the pin and pulls TORU up to his feet. He hoists the weaker TORU onto his shoulders in fireman’s carry.

 

“What are we seeing here? Leo looks like he’s going for the Goldsmith!” Mak says.

 

“Yes, he is. Oh, wait, here comes KOJI. He’s got the right idea! A kick to Leo’s gut!”

 

“He drops TORU, but KOJI can’t do much more, because here comes Luke!”

 

Luke isolates KOJI and begins hammering on him, pushing him into the ropes. Luke takes a few steps back and then rushes forward, knocking KOJI out of the ring with a clothesline and tumbling with him. Leo turns after the kick to the gut to see a rushing TORU. He ducks the impending clothesline and turns before TORU can, pulling the big man down backwards. Leo hooks the head underneath in another reverse DDT position. He then spins himself and brings TORU with him in a lightning fast, fluid motion that ends with TORU’s face smashed into Leo’s shoulder.

 

“Gold Rush!” Mak yells. “That’s it!”

 

Luke and KOJI return to their feet on the outside. Luke runs at KOJI and jumps before colliding with him, lifting his knee and sending it into KOJI’s chest. KOJI falls backwards onto the mat with a thwack. In the ring, Leo lays atop TORU, waiting for the pin that doesn’t occur thanks to another Chris Card appearance on the ring apron.

 

“No! No no no!” Mak screams. “Get that man out of here!”

 

“That’s what Sexton is trying to do. Let the man do his job.”

 

“Sexton’s job is to make the three count. TORU is OUT! Chris Card shouldn’t be allowed at ringside.”

 

“I don’t even know why Sexton is yelling at him. Maybe he just wanted a closer view.”

 

Luke pulls Card’s feet out from under him. Card’s face smashes into the apron on the fall, and he bounces off and turns to receive a boot to the gut. Luke turns and drops, grabbing Card’s head on the way and smashing his face into the shoulder with a Thunderstruck.

 

“Card’s been Thunderstruck!” Mak yells. “And the crowd is going crazy! Make the count, Sexton!”

 

“Happy now, Mak?”

 

“ONE! TWO! THR—NO! Card still managed to buy enough time! Damn it all!”

 

“Well, Card looks like he’s being taken out of commission. Luke’s still dishing it to him.”

 

The beating continues on the outside, and Sexton rolls out of the ring to try and restrain Luke. It hardly works as Luke continues stomping away at Card. The ecstatic crowd is suddenly lowered in volume and turned to boos as Leo’s return to his feet is met from behind by KOJI. KOJI locks in the K-Clutch, and the straightjacket choke immediately begins to affect Leo.

 

“KOJI’s not a legal man here, and Sexton is busy!”

 

“TKO’s a smart team, Mak. And this is partially Luke’s fault, too. He has to relent if he wants Sexton to get back to the ring.”

 

Luke finally catches a glimpse of KOJI keeping Leo on his feet in the K-Clutch, writing his arms back and forth, choking the life out of Leo while his limbs fall limp. Luke rolls back into the ring. Sexton follows, and KOJI releases his submission. Leo falls onto the canvas in a heap.

 

“Sexton is disciplining KOJI. This team needs to be incarcerated, I think.”

 

“It’s just wrestling, Mak.”

 

Sexton pushes KOJI back to his corner and urges him onto the apron. At the same time, Luke watches TORU get to his feet and turn around. Luke goes through the same motions he did with Chris Card on the outside, and TORU bounces off Luke’s shoulder, his eyes glassed over and his body spent. TORU ends up right next to Leo. Luke takes the liberty of draping Leo’s deadened arm over TORU’s chest. Sexton turns just as Luke steps back onto his apron. The referee drops immediately.

 

“Yes! ONE!”

 

“Luke’s a cheater!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“Get him KOJI!”

 

“THREE!”

 

KOJI is cut off by a returning Luke before he can get to the pin. Luke knocks him down with a clothesline and stomps him a few times before rolling him to the outside. Sexton stands and signals to the outside for the bell. *ding ding ding* Luke falls to his brother’s side while Sexton retrieves the titles.

 

“Your winners, and the NEW SWF Tag Team Champions… Luke and Leo… THEEE BREEESSSLIIIIINNNSSS!!”

 

“The Breslins have done it! They’ve beaten TKO. They’re our new champions!” Mak yells in excitement.

 

Luke has Leo on his feet, and he assists his brother towards the ropes. They are met by Sexton, who hands Luke his title. Leo is more hesitant to take the title, unsure of exactly what happened. Luke insists, and Leo takes the gold in his hand before stepping outside onto the apron.

 

“TKO is… they will not be happy. Their vengeance will be worse than anything The Breslins have seen thus far,” King says.

 

“That’s not an issue right now. They’re saluting their fans. This crowd has exploded. And I thought they were enthusiastic during the match…”

 

Luke and Leo pass the screaming Natasha. She’s still restrained by the handcuffs, but her shrill voice screams, “This isn’t over! You’ll wish this never happened!” Leo undrapes his arm from around his brother’s neck and walks to a nearby fan. A few words are exchanged before the fan hands Leo his beverage. Leo removes the lid and tosses it away before pouring close to 32 ounces of cold, urine-yellow Mountain Dew over Natasha’s head. The fans around Natasha laugh and cheer, along with the rest of the arena, as The Breslins continue up the ramp and towards the back, their titles held proudly over their heads, the gold shining in the lights that ricochet off them.

 

“We’ve got new Tag Team Champions, fans!” Mak says. “And the show is NOT over yet! Genesis continues after this!”

[King Cucaracha 0]

SWF World Heavyweight Championship

"The Maori Badass" Va'aiga © VS. "The Mad Scientist Of The Mat" Michael Alexander

 

The arena lies still and the crowd noise dies down from the last match. Mak Francis offers a simple quote, “This is it fans. The main event of Genesis.” The lights around the stadium dim and the hush is broken with the reading of a piece of William Cowper's “The Raven.”

 

Fate steals along with silent tread,

Found oftenest in what least we dread,

Frowns in the storm with angry brow,

But in the sunshine strikes the blow....

 

And with the tolling of a bell leading into the crashing bass guitar of the late Cliff Burton, spotlights swing to illuminate the the entrance area and Michael Alexander steps into the glare. Alexander is greeted not by the usual chorus of boos but by the rapturous adulation of his home crowd. As the main riff hits, the lights begin flashing on and off and circling the fans, the camera picking up just how pro Alexander the crowd is with a host of signs praising the local boy. “The crowd are going wild for Alexander, Francis!” calls King.

 

“It doesn't matter what your personal views are of 'The Evil Genius', this is the place he calls home and these are his people.”

 

Alexander walks slowly down to the ring as “For Whom The Bell Tolls” plays, surveying the crowd with each step he takes, not quite sure how to deal with the reaction. The Mad Scientist Of The Mat rolls under the ring ropes and turns to face the crowd...

 

FOR WHOM THE BELL TOLLS!

TIME MARCHES ON!

FOR WHOM THE BELL TOLLS!

 

...and is met by another wave of cheers. Alexander walks to his corner and leans against it confidently. The lights dim again. The crowd drop back to a hushed state Then the boos start, scattered at first, then more unanimous as the Haka, the challenge of the Maoris rings out across the arena.

 

Ka Mate! Ka Mate! Ka Ora!

Ka Mate! Ka Mate! Ka Ora!

Tenei te tangata puhuru huru

Nana nei i tiki mai

Whakawhiti te ra

A upane ka upane!

A upane kaupane whiti te ra!

Hi!!

 

The cries die down. A silhouetted figure appears in the entrance area. Then on three words, shouted in Samoan the stadium explodes in bright pyrotechnics and Southern Hempisphere hip hop.

 

PITO SUTE AKILAGI!

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

 

It ain't good, it ain't good cos you'll get jumped in my hood.

 

Just as Alexander's crowd response was far from his usual Bronx Cheer, the jeering howls and catcalls that meet the Maori Badass are not what you'd expect for a massively popular world champion. Va'aiga walks down the center of the aisle, turning to stare down a fan who openly shouts abuse into his face. Va'aiga steps through the ropes and turns towards Alexander, giving him a look of pure hatred. Meanwhile Funyon has grabbed mis microphone and steps into the ring himself for the Main Event introductions.

 

“The following match is your Genesis IX Main Event and is for the HEAVYWIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP OF THE WOOOOOOOOOOOOOORLD! The match is scheduled for one fall, with no time limit. Introducing first in the corner to my right. He stands five foot eleven tall and weighs in tonight at two hundred and twenty-one pounds.. He is The Mad Sceintist of the mat...”

 

A cheer comes up from the crowd.

 

“The Evil Genius...”

 

Another cheer!

 

“The Professor of Pain...”

 

Another cheer!

 

“The Eidolon of Excellence...”

 

And another!!

 

“and The Most Scientifically Scintillating Superstar Ever to Enter the Squared Circle!”

 

And another!!!

 

“He is... MICHAEL AAAAAAAAALEEXAAAAAAAANDEEEEEEEEER!”

 

And one final massive cheer nearly blows the roof off the building. Alexander stands impassive, focused on his opponent and possibly still thrown by the adulation. Funyon continues,

 

“And his opponent is your reigning HEAVYWEIGHT CHAAAMPION OF THE WOOOOOOORLD!”

 

Switch to the rabid booing of the Maori.

 

“He weighs in tonight at three hundred and fifty pounds. He stands six foot seven tall. He hails from Rotorua, New Ze...”

 

And Va'aiga cuts Funyon off, asking him to use the proper name (in Maori) for his country. This draws even more boos.

 

“Sorry, he hails from Rotorua, Aotearoa. He is Professional Wrestling's Most Dangerous Man....”

 

BOOOOOOOO!

 

“The Maori Badass...”

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

“THIS IS VAAAAAAAAAA'AAAAAAIIIIIIIIIGA!!!!”

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

Va'aiga reacts impassively to the crowd, choosing instead to throw one of his BOO-YAH! Combinations and dramatically slinging off his boxer's robe. The Maori turns back to Alexander and points towards his talented opponent. Alexander accepts the challenge and both men walk to the center of the ring Funyon announces Matthew Kivell as the referee and calls for the bell. “Here we go King. For the ninth time, THIS is the main event of Genesis. How do you see this panning out?” asks Mak.

 

“This is going to get personal and it's going to get nasty,” replies King, “Two of the most vicious superstars in professional wrestling today. Either man will and can do anything to win.”

 

Ring centre, The Maori and the Mad Scientist stand off mouthing a few curses. There is a few seconds of hush amongst the crowd and then BAM! Alexander opens the match with a massive kick to Va'aiga's thigh with his right boot. The crowd cheers. A second, this time to the left thigh almost staggers the Maori. Another cheer. A third kick is swung in but this time Va'aiga reaches down a massive forearm to block and then opens up with a rapid fire trifecta of left jabs. Knowing that his opponent isn't nearly worn down enough to take a hook, Va'aiga grasps out for Alexander's arm and whips him forcefully into the ropes but as Va'aiga shapes for a shoulder block, Alexander hooks his arms round the top rope to halt his momentum.

 

“Cagey start here,” remarks Mak.

 

“It doesn't matter how good Alexander is as a wrestler, he doesn't want to get involved in a striking contest with the Maori,” replies King.

 

Walking back into position, Alexander judges the distance between himself and Va'aiga perfectly and as the Maori's arm flies out in another punch, Alexander deftly sidesteps and grabs the Maori's wrist, twisting it viciously into a top wristlock. Alexander turns Va'aiga's arm in his hands, looking to transition round to a hammerlock, but Va'aiga overpowers Alexander and muscles him round into a hammerlock of his own. The Evil Genius reaches back behind him, possibly looking to set up a jawbreaker to counter. Va'aiga sees it coming and pushes Alexander off. Alexander turns quickly to protect his back and the pair get back to trash talking.

 

“I wonder what words are being exchanged,” muses Mak.

 

“I wonder if it would be broadcastable.” quips King.

 

Alexander offers Va'aiga a collar and elbow tie up which the Maori accepts and tries to power Alexander down to the mat. Transitioning seamlessly out of the hold however, Alexander uses his lower base to flick a leg round the Maori and take him down. At mat level Alexander switches to a grounded front facelock, the most basic of controlling techniques. Va'aiga uses his leg strength to tuck his knees in and draw himself away from the mat. Alexander tries to stand, presumably to transition again to a different hold but Va'aiga pushes off with both arms, sending Alexander sprawling to the mat. Va'aiga takes his time standing as The Mad Scientist regains his own vertical base.

 

“This has been a tight encounter so far, King”

 

“You expected anything else for the main event of Genesis, Francis?”

 

Circling each other, the two participants in this main event war are both looking for an opening again. Alexander shoots in and tries to take the Maori down with a double leg, but the notoriously hard to shift Maori will not go down. Va'aiga reaches down to grab Alexander's waist and hoists the Evil Genius up onto his shoulders, looking for a powerbomb. Alexander however rides the momentum and leapfrogs the Maori, landing on his feet behind the Maori's back. Rushing the far ropes, Alexander homes in the on the back of one of the Maori's legs. Lanching himself, Alexander goes for one of his signature chop blocks, but Va'aiga senses the danger and steps to a side, leaving Alexander flying matwards Alexander's supreme control of his own body allows him to forward roll and stand quickly again and he stands and smiles to himself, never letting his sheen on confidence drop.

 

“You have to admire Alexander. His natural ability for professional wrestling sets him apart from the crowd,” remarks King.

 

Back in the middle of the ring, both men are searching for that little opportunity to get things rolling. Va'aiga fires off a straight right, Alexander covering up to absorb the blow. The Mad Scientist fires back with a forearm strike and the Maori chooses not to block and simply takes the blow. The Maori punches out again. Again Alexander block artfully. Alexander fires off a second forearm, and again Va'aiga takes it on the chin. The crowd are again massively vocal, cheering every Alexander hit and booing the living hell out of Va'aiga's blows. Another forearm and this time Va'aiga just loses it firing off blow after blow, hooks, crosses, body hooks and Alexander, covering up, is forced backwards to the ropes. The howl of hatred turns into a scream of approval as Alexader fires back with one, two, three quick forearms and then a rush of the ropes. Building up a little momentum, Alexander leaps and then drives the point of his elbow into Va'aiga's skull. The Maori staggers backwards as Alexander carries on into the far ropes, rebounds again and takes a low trajectory into Va'aiga's knee with a dropkick. The kneeling Va'aiga looks up, only to see Alexander rush past him again on his way to another low dropkick, this time into the kneeling Maori's spine. With his finally opponent down, Alexander goest to town, stomping away at the Maori like a man possessed!

 

“ALEXANDER!”

 

CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP!

 

“These home town fans are showing their love for Michael Alexander!” calls Mak

 

“Even Evil Geniuses can be beloved, Francis!” answers King.

 

Looking down at his thoroughly bestopmed opponent, Alexander lets a grin cross his face. The Mad Scientist Of The Mat lifts a boot up and methodically places it on the back of the Maori's thick skull, spinning and scraping Va'aiga's face on the canvas. Alexander steps off and raises his arms, and the crowd at his show of disrespect...

 

“YYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

 

...nearly blow the roof off the place again! Alexander's self satisfied grin turns to a near disbelieving beaming smile. Turning back to the Maori, Alexander drops down to mat level and locks back in a facelock. Alexander lifts Va'aiga off the mat and fires off a couple of swift knees to the head. Va'aiga tries to muscle out of the hold, but the mad mat skills of Alexander allow him to float round, transitioning his facelock to a rear chinlock. Alexander takes total control with an additional body scissors.

 

“Alexander looking to slow the pace down here, King.”

 

“Keep it grounded. Keep it technical. Keep it in your own world, Francis.”

 

Feeling around for an opening, Alexander waits patiently for The Maori Badass to make a mistake, all the time keeping his opponent well under control. Va'aiga flails an arm out, possibly trying to power out of the predicament but Alexander jumps on the opportunity, flawlessly moving to scissor Va'aiga's arm with an armbar. Finally Alexander relinquishes his hold on the chinlock, allowing him to swing his body out and position himself perfectly for the armbar. Va'aiga grimaces in pain but finds himself close enough to the ropes that with an amount of effort he can have the hold broken for him by Matthew Kivell. As Va'aiga stands he shakes his arm and rolls his shoulder to free it off.

 

“Alexander has to keep working over Va'aiga methodically. It's about doing the ordinary things extraordinarily well, Mak.”

 

The two athletes circle again, each looking to strike. Alexander ducks a little, trying to fake out the massive Maori. Va'aiga takes this as a cue and shoots forward himself, launching at Alexander and wrapping his arms round Alexander's waist, driving him down to the mat with the Rugby Tackle! Va'aiga rears back from the mount position but before he can get any follow up strikes off, Alexander uses his jiujutsu training to sweep Va'aiga and take control himself. Va'aiga tightens up the defense of his upper body, closing his guard but Alexander just sees this as an opportunity to drop down to the Maori's legs and lock in a solid heel hook. Va'aiga fights and thrashes, able to use his size and strength to muscle Alexander over twice in succession and reach out for the ropes, forcing another break.

 

“You have to admire Va'aiga's ring positioning, King.”

 

“Well Francis. Even a big lug like Va'aiga gets lucky sooner or later, Francis.”

 

Both men are back up again. Va'aiga stamps on the mat a couple of times to free his leg up. Sensing maybe a touch of weakness, Alexander shoots again, looking for a single leg but this time the Maori brushes The Evil Genius aside. Alexander recomposes himself and spins into a back waistlock, only to be met by a sharp back elbow to the head. Va'aiga slips behind and takes a back waistlock of his own. Alexander tries to elbow out himself, driving the point of his elbow into Va'aiga's headm, but the Maori sucks it up and lifts Alexander, flipping The Mad Scientist over his head with a massive release German Suplex! Va'aiga hops to his feet, raises the Shaka Sign and screams...

 

“BOO-YAH!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“The crowd didn't like that at all, Francis!”

 

“A partisan crowd, make no mistake, King.”

 

The Maori grunts at the crowd in disgust before turning back to Alexander. The Maori lifts one of the grounded Alexander's legs and briefly turns to the crowd. With mare than a hint of malice in his voice, the Maori lets out a sarcastic “WOOOOO!” before dropping into THE FIGURE FOUR LEGLOCK!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“FIGURE FOUR! AS GOD IS MY WITNESS VA'AIGA HAS APPLIED THE FIGURE FOUR IN THE HEART OF THE CAROLINAS!”

 

“OK I'm not sure what the Maori is up to Francis, but I know the crowd are hating it.”

 

Va'aiga sits up a little, looking to apply pressure in the figure four from a different direction as Alexander tries to fight out of the move. The Evil Genius' shoulders are left touching the mat as he conserves energy. Head referee Matthew Kivell is fully aware of the situation and drops to count...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

And Alexander sits up. Reaching an arm out, Alexander finds a little room to play with and slaps the taste out of Va'aiga's mouth. The Maori Badass stares on in disbelief and Alexander slaps him again! Va'aiga tries twisting his legs a little more and seizing the moment, Alexander worms his way out of the hold! The Evil Genius is even the first to stand as Va'aiga takes his time getting off the canvas, all the time keeping a glare fixed on his technically gifted opponent.

 

“Focus, Francis. Never lose your focus. That's what the Maori has to learn.”

 

Va'aiga walks a pace towards Alexander and the Evil Genius fires off another low kick. The Maori grunts and takes another pace forward. Another low kick. Another grunt. Another pace. Just before the third kick is launched, Va'aiga extends a muscular left arm and grabs Alexander around the throat, pushing him back to the ropes in a chokehold and screaming, “DON'T YOU EVER SLAP ME AGAIN, MOTHERFUCKER! DON'T YOU EVER SLAP ME AGAIN!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Matthew Kivell puts on a five count which the Maori takes a good four and a half of before slinging his opponent down to the mat. Va'aiga walks over quickly to Alexander and before the Evil Genius has been allowed time to stand, The Maori grabs him by the hair and drags him to a vertical base, which Kivell protests fruitlessly at. Va'aiga has time for one wicked glare before smashing Alexander in the bridge of the nose with a forceful headbutt. Alexander goes down like a felled tree. Va'aiga turns to ask the crowd, “MA WAI I TOA?”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Having left time for Alexander to stand, Va'aiga turns and double him up with a solid boot to the midsection. With Alexander doubled up Va'aiga locks an arm round his head and dropps him with a crisp DDT. Quickly Va'aiga stands, rushes the far ropes and gathers a little momentum before leaping and driving his thick Pacific skull into his opponent with a headbutt drop. Va'aiga stays down and covers...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

T.. and Alexander kicks out. Va'aiga stands, obviously unhappy, and shouts to the ref while slapping his hand to indicate cadence.

 

“TAHI, RUA, TORU!”

 

“Va'aiga is getting steamed, Mak. Normally I'd say this would hurt a wrestler but Va'aiga thrives on his temper.”

 

“He certainly is a man not to piss off, King.”

 

Slinging his opponent to his feet, Va'aiga drapes his victim's arm across his own back and glances round the baying crowd. The Maori lifts Alexander up in a vertical suplex and holds him there ong enough to take four deliberate changes of direction, showing the helpless home town hero to all four sides of the arena. Finally the Maori drops The Eidolon of Excellence down to the mat, which he bounces off with a bone jarring thud. The Maori covers again with a simple side press...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

T... and Alexander easily kicks out.

 

“Lackadaisical cover there, Francis. I think Va'aiga wants to put Alexander through some pain before finishing him off.”

 

Taking his time to seethe in the referee's direction, Va'aiga contemplates his next move. Picking up Alexander again, by the hair of course, and softens him up a little more with a pair of quick elbow smashes. Using his massive upper body strength, Va'aiga lifts Alexander up by one arm, hitting an almost lazy looking Side Slam. Va'aiga opts not to cover this time and as he stands, he drags up Alexander and whips him forcefully into a corner. Va'aiga offers another call for the crowd...

 

“ROTORUA KANOHI!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

...and charges full steam ahead into the corner shoulder first! Alexander doubles up in pain as Va'aiga wheels away before charging again and smashing The Mad Scientist into the corner by snapping his body back with a kneelift. Va'aiga claps rhythmically, the crowd booing again as he measures his run up and launches himself again, extending a leg and YAKUZA KICKING ALEXANDER IN THE JAW! Alexander takes three careful steps out of the corner before flopping to the mat face first like a certain Carolinian made famous!

 

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

The Maori almost chuckles to himself as he flips Alexander over like a pancake, lifts a leg and APPLIES THE FIGURE FOUR AGAIN! AND ALEXANDER COUNTERS WITH A SMALL PACKAGE!

 

“INSIDE CRADLE! THIS COULD BE IT KING!”

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR.. and Va'aiga kicks out.

 

“It's going to take more than that to beat The Maori, Francis.”

 

Alexander stands first and turns to face the Maori, who responds by pouncing and taking Alexander down with another Rugby Tackle. Alexander doesn't even have time to form a guard as Va'aiga rains down lefts and rights, ending with three massive headbutts to his trapped opponent. Hopping to his feet, Va'aiga feels at his forehead and uses an index finger to wipe a little blood off. The Maori looks down at Alexander and sees the trickle of blood drip below Alexander's hands covering his face. Va'aiga smiles.

 

“The Maori sees blood.”

 

“And it's not his own, Francis.”

 

Stomp! A massive Maori boot connects with Alexander's head. Stomp! Another. Va'aiga turns away and paces a run up methodically. The crowd catcalls and jeers as Va'aiga turns back to the fallen Alexander, bows his head, takes a run up and PUNT KICKS ALEXANDER IN THE HEAD! Va'aiga drops and covers...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH... and Alexander kicks out! Va'aiga slaps the mat in frustration before standing again. Squatting down, Va'aiga stands poised and ready to strike as Alexander stands, dazed from the kick and stumbles backwards into the grasp of The Maori! Va'aiga lifts The Evil Genius up as if it hit him with a back suplex and then changes the momentum dim move and crashes Alexander's body face first to the canvas with THE MAORIBOMB! Va'aiga sits there for a few seconds, smiling sickeningly to himself before flipping The Mad Scientist over and pinning again. Matthew Kivell is right in position as ever.

 

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

TH.. and Alexander kicks out!

 

“YYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAH!”

 

“ALEXANDER!”

 

CLAPCLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP!

 

“Alexander is going to have to do something to shift the momentum in this match, King.”

 

“Va'aiga is all about momentum and the momentum is all his.”

 

Standing slowly and deliberately, Va'aiga turns and stares down, hatred in his eyes, at Alexander again. Va'aiga waits for the Mad Scientist to get to his feet then stuns him with a rapid left jab. There is a small call of “ONE!” from the crowd, but the majority of them are still booing Va'aiga's every move. Another left jab inevitably follows. Then a third, each successive jab staggering Alexander a little more. Va'aiga rears back but instead of kissing his fist, the Maori Badass flips the Evil Genius off before decking him with the BIG RIGHT HOOK! Va'aiga walks over towards the side of the ring, grabs the top rope and screams out,

 

“ALEXANDER E MATE! TE TIPUA KINO E MATE!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Va'aiga walks back to the center of the ring and turns to look down at Alexander. Va'aiga picks Alexander effortlessly off the canvas. Grabbing his victim roughly by the arm, The Maori slings Alexander across the ring with an Irish whip. The Evil Genius careers across the ring, bouncing off the ropes and straight into a well placed shoulder. Va'aiga leaps into the air, extending a leg and dropping it across Alexander's throat. Again Va'aiga covers...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR... and Alexander kicks out again.

 

“ALEXANDER!”

 

CLAP! CLAP! CLAPCLAPCLAP!

 

Hauling Alexander up again, Va'aiga goes for another Irish Whip. Alexander flies across the ring again and bounces off the near ropes. Va'aiga drops his shoulder again but Alexander still has the presence to slide down between the Maori's tree trunk legs. Continuing his momentum, Alexander bounces off the far ropes and as Va'aiga tries to figure out what's going on, Alexander hits a desperation knee clip! AND VA'AIGA DOESN'T GO DOWN!

 

“What does Alexander have to do?”

 

The Maori's balance is still a little wobbly as Alexander stands and finds himself relieved to get a little breathing space. Alexander advances on the Maori but is surprised to get his arm snapped again as Va'aiga has gained his composure and hit another Irish Whip. Va'aiga quickly adjusts his wrist tape as Alexander rebounds on him and swings that famous arm around...

 

“THE LARIAT!”

 

And Alexander leaps and takes Va'aiga down into a cross arm breaker! Va'aiga's face snarls up, fighting the pain as Alexander bounces up and down off the mat, each time cracking Va'aiga's arm in a direction it was never meant to go. Alexander's legs are locked in around The Maori's shoulders as he pulls back on the arm. The crowd cheer at every wince of pain from The Maori as Alexander occasionally frees an arm to wipe a little blood from his face before locking the hold in twice as tight.

 

“How about that to change the Momentum, Francis?”

 

“Alexander is a master of submission holds.”

 

Alexander drops his legs away from Va'aiga and turns the Maori over by hammerlocking his arm behind his back. Keeping Va'aiga's arm pinned in position, Alexander throws a pair of elbows into Va'aiga's ribs, causing the Maori to flail slightly. Instinctively Alexander sees the opening and grabs out for a leg with his free arm, bending it back slightly. Finally, after realizing he can't maintain both holds at the same time, convincingly, Alexander rolls backwards, snapping Va'aiga's leg against the mat. Smartly Alexander keeps hold of Va'aiga's ankle, twisting it in a reverse ankle lock.

 

“Look at that chain wrestling Francis, it's so seamless.”

 

“Alexander's name is up there with the best in the SWF's history of technical wrestlers.”

 

Still with the ankle picked, Alexander stands and lifts Va'aiga's leg off the canvas before driving it knee first down into the mat. Alexander kicks away a couple of times at the leg and then jumps, flattening his body out and landing elbow first across the back of the Maori's thigh. Alexander sits back up then gets to one knee as he pulls back on Va'aiga's leg, bending the Maori's leg back half crab style. The Evil Genius adjusts his positioning so his down knee in right in the centre of the Maori's spine as he cranks back.

 

“Va'aiga is in a predicament now, King.”

 

“Once Alexander goes to work, you KNOW you're in trouble.”

 

Va'aiga begins to slowly inch his way towards the ropes, but Alexander is relentless. Firstly he hauls Va'aiga into the middle of the ring. Secondly he readjusts position so his knee is back firmly in position in the middle of The Maori's back. Thirdly he shouts out for Matthew Kivell, “ASK HIM!” but Va'aiga shakes his head vigorously to signal he's not ready to quit yet. The Mad Scientist adjusts the position of his knee slightly and torques The Maori's leg round a little more. “ASK HIM!” comes the shout again. Va'aiga looks to maybe throw Alexander off, having a little more wiggle room in his position, but this is another clever feint as, with the leg held, Alexander grabs his arm around the Maori's thick neck.

 

“OUROBOUROS II! Will the Maori tap out to this deadly submission hold?”

 

“Tap out now or wait for later, Francis, they're your only choices against Michael Alexander.”

 

Pain shows clearly on the face of the Maori Badass. As his body is being twisted in directions it was never meant to go by the technically fabulous Michael Alexander. Letting his normally impassive demeanour drop, Alexander screams at the ref, “ASK HIM! ASK HIM DAMNIT!”

 

“ALEXANDER”

 

CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP

 

“NO!”

 

“ASK HIM!”

 

“ALEXANDER”

 

CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP

 

“How can the Maori survive this hold?”

 

“More importantly Francis, if Va'aiga CAN get out of this hold, how is he going to survive the Gordian Knot?”

 

“That would rely on him being able to apply it King.”

 

“Never rule out that as a possibility in a Michael Alexander match.”

 

Va'aiga fumbles around, looking to extend one of his free arms towards the ropes. With each little flex of his body, Alexander counters the movement with one of his own, each time making sure Va'aiga has no chance of escaping the hold. Va'aiga for his part shows no sign of fading, but each time he is forced to expend effort, Alexander can counter with less wasted motion. The Evil Genius tenses his body as he pulls back on the Maori's leg and cranks on his neck. Alexander urges Va'aiga to “TAP!” and the crowd picks up quickly on the theme.

 

“TAP! TAP! TAP! TAP!”

 

“What can the Maori do to escape this punishment?”

 

“He can tap, Francis. Plain and simple.”

 

“TAP! TAP! TAP! TAP!”

 

Slowly and carefully, Va'aiga finds the angle that allows him to edge forwards towards the ropes. Most superstars would be unable to even attempt this but Va'aiga's awkward body shape and immense power has allowed him to generate enough free space in the hold to begin the slow, agonizing inching process. The Mad Scientist spots what is going on and tries to compensate, but as Va'aiga twists his upper body, nearly overbalancing Alexander, the Mad Scientist decides to allow the Maori to move slowly, realizing that he has plenty of time to at least cause more damage in the hold. Matthew Kivell concentrates on whether Va'aiga has either tapped out or reached the ropes. The Evil Genius looks across for Va'aiga's ring positioning and seeing the Maori is about to reach the ropes, Alexander releases the hold down to just a half crab then falls to a side, smashing The Maori's leg sideways into the mat. Alexander stands and wipes a little more blood from his face before shouting,

 

“TIME TO GO TO SCHOOL!”

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAH!”

 

“Which school is he talking about?”

 

King's rhetorical question is answered by Alexander as he drags Va'aiga away from the ropes by the leg he half crabbed, takes a couple of steps back and hits a Bombs Away style kneedrop over the back of The Maori's leg! Alexander backs off and hits another! Va'aiga twitches and flinches as he already sore leg being crashed into by the point of The Mad Scientist's knee point. Alexander then picks up the injured leg, allows the crowd a...

 

“WOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” replies the crowd in kind as he drops to the mat and applies his own FIGURE FOUR!

 

“That's right Francis... OLD SCHOOL!”

 

Alexander rocks his body backwards and forwards, putting the maximum amount of pressure on Va'aiga's legs. The crowd yell and scream in support for Alexander as The Eidolon of Excellence stretches Va'aiga's knee to near breaking point. The Maori's face is a picture of agony, almost an enormous Maori version of Munch's The Scream.

 

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“TAP! TAP! TAP!”

 

“ALEXANDER!”

 

“Va'aiga was almost using this move as an insult. Alexander fully intends to get the victory, Francis.”

 

Sitting up a little, Alexander looks for Va'aiga's upper body position. Seeing the Maori is trying to sit up himself to relieve the pressure, Alexander swings an arm and paintbrushes Va'aiga with a massive SLAP! Va'aiga growls and attempts to swing back at Alexander, but The Evil Genius slams his back into the mat and turns up the pressure on the Maori's legs again. Va'aiga twists and turns, but instead of rolling against the momentum, Alexander rolls with it, turning the hold from a Figure Four to an Indian Deathlock and back in one rolling motion.

 

“It's all going Alexander's way, Francis.”

 

“The Eidolon of Excellence is showing his technical mastery tonight, that's for sure King.”

 

“TAP! TAP! TAP!”

 

“ALEXANDER!”

 

Nearer the center of the ring (of course), Alexander sits up again, protecting his hold against any motion the Maori wants to make. Va'aiga sits up again and again Alexander slaps him across the face. Va'aiga reaches a massive arm out and attempts to punch Alexander's lights out from his vulnerable position, but Alexander drops down to the mat again. Matthew Kivell asks Va'aiga again if he wants to tap out, and the response is emphatic,

 

“NEVER!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“TAP! TAP! TAP!”

 

“ALEXANDER!”

 

Alexander sits up again, waiting for the Maori to make his next move. As the Maori sits up, Alexander swings the arm again... only to have it caught by the Maori! Va'aiga stuns Alexander with his massive reach on an lengthy punch and then drags hard on the arm forcing the stunned Alexander to lose his grip! Va'aiga draws his legs back slowly and clutching at his right thigh uncomfortably, stands up, crouching. The Mad Scientist stands slowly and turns to face his opponent... AND GETS BLOWN AWAY WITH THE EVIL, NASTY, VICIOUS, YOU WANT SCIENCE, THIS IS THE APPLICATION OF A VECTOR TO A LARGE MASS TO YOUR FACE LAAAAAAAARIIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAATOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! The Maori collapses to the mat, clutching hold of his leg, writhing in pain. Alexander just collapses.

 

“THE LARIAT! THE LARIAT! THE LARIAT!”

 

“Yes, but can the Maori follow up, Francis? That leg has taken one hell of a beating.”

 

Matthew Kivell adjudicates that both men are down and begins to put a ten count on both competitors.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

“ALEXANDER!”

 

 

TWO!

 

 

“Both men appear to be struggling here.”

 

 

THREE!

 

 

Va'aiga claws his way up to one knee and glares at Alexander.

 

 

FOUR!

 

 

“You're not kidding, Francis. But I think Va'aiga is closer to moving.

 

 

FIVE!

 

 

“ALEXANDER!”

 

 

SIX!

 

 

Va'aiga is up to both knees

 

 

 

SEVEN!

 

 

“ALEXANDER!”

 

 

 

EIGHT!

 

 

Va'aiga scrabbles towards Alexander and BEGINS CHOKING THE LIFE OUT OF HIM! Matthew Kivell breaks up the double KO count and concentrates on giving Va'aiga five to break the choke. Va'aiga responds by putting his face inches away from Alexander's and screaming,

 

“I TOLD YOU MOTHERFUCKER! I TOLD YOU!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Va'aiga has hit his breaking point, but can the Maori press home this slight advantage?”

 

Va'aiga lifts his upper body up and drives his head into Alexander's with a nasty cracking sound

 

CRACK!

 

“DO!”

 

CRACK!

 

“NOT!”

 

CRACK!

 

“FUCKING!”

 

CRACK!

 

“SLAP!”

 

CRACK!

 

“ME!”

 

The cut on Alexander's head has reopened, and another trickle of crimson leaks out. Stepping carefully to his feet and wincing when he tries to put weight on his right leg. Edging carefully round behind Alexander, Va'aiga readies himself so that when Alexander finally stands, The Maori is in perfect position to lock in a tight back waistlock. Va'aiga muscles Alexander over into a DANGEROUS GERMAN SUPLEX! Alexander twitches as his head and upper back crash into the mat.

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Ouch! That had to hurt, King!”

 

“Is there any move that drops you on your head that ISN'T painful, Francis?”

 

The look that crosses The Maori's face shows that he is far from finished. Again taking his time standing, feeling the pain coursing through his body, Va'aiga turns to Alexander and bends over low enough to pick his opponent up by the hair. The Maori places his arms under Alexander and hauls The Mad Scientist up across his massive Maori chest. Unable to take a running start or even his usual leap, Va'aiga simply falls forward, sandwiching Alexander on the mat. Matthew Kivell drops to count...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

THRE... AND ALEXANDER RAISES A SHOULDER!

 

 

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAH!”

 

“Michael Alexander is showing some remarkable spirit!”

 

“He's a fighter, Francis, and he's not going to ogive in easily.”

 

Grabbing Alexander by the arm and leading him back up with his own slow progress, The Maori looks for some other attack he can manage. The Maori powerfully whips The Mad Scientist across the ring, breathing heavily as he waits for Alexander to head back to the middle of the ring before jacking the Evil Genius up and spiking him down face first with a NASTY Flapjack!

 

“Va'aiga is heading towards victory here!”

 

“Not so fast, Francis. He's totally relying on his arm strength here. His legs have taken such a beating he's having trouble moving!”

 

Trouble moving or not, Va'aiga has plenty of time to get to his feet, with Alexander dazed and confused on the mat. The Maori again grasps onto his leg, trying to feel where the tension is worst and relieve it a little, but as Alexander stands Va'aiga grabs him straight away, placing his arms around Alexander's waist, lifting him up and flipping down nastily into the mat, shoulders first. Deciding against covering, Va'aiga goes back to clutching his leg and waiting, ready to strike.

 

“The key to Va'aiga's victories has always been dealing out punishment. Hit 'em 'til they don't get up no more.”

 

“Va'aiga is certainly trying that tonight King!”

 

Alexander is again slow to stand, giving the Maori plenty more recovery time. The Mad Scientist swings his arm out wildly, trying to catch the Maori with a forearm but Va'aiga takes the inaccurate blow full on, roars and flattens Alexander with a forearm of his own! Alexander stands slightly quicker this time and fires a more precise forearm, and Va'aiga takes it again, roars louder this time and SPLATS Alexander back down with his own strike. This time Alexander slams the mat as he stands and GOES INSANE ON THE MAORI! FOREARM! FOREARM! CHOP! CHOP! FOREARM! CHOP! FO... and Va'aiga, fed up with being hit in the face, ducks so Alexander has his back to the Maori before applying the Straightjacket Half Nelson and falling back, SMASHING ALEXANDER INTO THE MAT WITH THE SWISS SUPLEX! Va'aiga just sits up and shakes his head.

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“It doesn't matter how much fire you have in your belly, Francis, Va'aiga has more stone in his head!”

 

Va'aiga hauls The Mad Scientist into a crouch, then applies a standing head scissors. With a foul glance out into the crowd, the Maori hauls Alexander up again and drops him down firmly with a powerbomb, sitting out to avoid having to make any of the move's motion with his legs. Va'aiga holds on for the pinning position and Matthew Kivell counts...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

THRE... and Alexander clicks his heels around Va'aiga's head, breaking the cover. The Maori grunts and positions himself to rain down five or six quick forearms to Alexander's face. Va'aiga leans over and then crashes his skull downwards again. The Maori sits back, showing the blood on his forehead, all of which belongs to Alexander. Va'aiga claps sarcastically as he drags Alexander up by the arm and Irish Whips him again. Va'aiga bends over and flicks the Evil Genius over with an effortless backdrop. Va'aiga drops to cover again.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THR.. and Alexander kicks out again!

 

Staring down the crowd again (and getting booed for it again), Va'aiga looks for another move to maybe kill off the fiery Alexander. The Mad Scientist stands slowly and Va'aiga blasts him full in the face with a huge left hand. Alexander drops to the mat and Va'aiga stops to draw breath again. Alexander stays down the the canvas and the crowd noise drops with this brief break in the action. Va'aiga takes a half step towards Alexander, reaching down to grab the Mad Scientist once more... BUT ALEXANDER GRABS THE MAORI'S ANKLE AND TRIPS HIM UP! Alexander holds on....

 

“It could be...”

 

AND LOCKS IN THE GORDIAN KNOT II!

 

“THE GORDIAN KNOT! VA'AIGA IS IN TROUBLE, KING!”

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

 

AND VA'AIGA KICKS HIM OFF WITH HIS OTHER LEG!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Va'aiga hops to a vertical base and tries to build up some speed, but as he wildly flails his ankle is picked again by Alexander who promptly APPLIES THE GORDIAN KNOT II AGAIN!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

 

The Maori is reduced to writhing around, half in pain half in attempt to escape the hold. Alexander grits his teeth and grips on tight. Desperately flailing his arms, Va'aiga manages to move slightly towards the ropes. Alexander's concentration is purely on the hold, but Matthew Kivell is proactive enough as a referee to ask Va'aiga if he wants to quit. Va'aiga shakes his head violently and keeps on struggling.

 

“All Va'aiga has to do is reach the ropes.”

 

“It's not an easy task, Francis. That hold is near impossible to escape.”

 

“TAP! TAP! TAP!”

 

Escape from the hold may look unlikely but Va'aiga is using his upper body strength to muscle himself AND Alexander steadily towards the ropes. Alexander wrenches as hard as he can back on Va'aiga's leg but can't avoid being inevitably inched towards the ropes.

 

“TAP! TAP! TAP!”

 

Closer still...

 

“TAP! TAP! TAP!”

 

Reaching out an arm to grab the ropes...

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

AND ALEXANDER RELEASES HIS ARMS AND DRAGS VA'AIGA BACK TO THE MIDDLE OF THE RING! The Mad Scientist goes to reapply the ankle lock to the leg scissors he already has, bu as he leans his head slightly forwards VA'AIGA BOOTS HIM IN THE FACE! Both men roll away from each other and stand in opposite corners, staring each other down. Alexander is the first to move out of his chosen corner, Va'aiga resting up against the ring ropes. Suddenly Alexander finds that one last reserve of energy and charges, leaping at the unreactive Maori and planting his heel in the back of the Maori's skull!

 

“YEAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

 

“Alexander has just exploded here!”

 

Va'aiga staggers out of the corner, limping, as Alexander bounces off the second rope and plants a HUGE forearm in the back of The Maori's head. Va'aiga staggers more and very gingerly turns, only to see Alexander bounce AGAIN off the ring ropes and hit his JAW DROPPING SHOOTING STAR DROPKICK! Va'aiga FINALLY falls backwards to the mat.

 

“HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”

 

“If it's whatever it takes, Alexander has this hidden gear, Francis!”

 

It doesn't take Alexander long to get up and pointing to the sky, he begins climbing the turnbuckles. Turning to face the massive Maori, looks down into the ring, raises his arms to the sky and LEAPS OFF WITH THE SUPERFLY SPLASH.... AND VA'AIGA ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY! ALEXANDER CRASHES INTO THE MAT! Va'aiga flips Alexander over and covers, the referee right in position as ever...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH... AND ALEXANDER KICKS OUT AGAIN!

 

Fuming, the Maori stands and deliberately paces out two large steps from the fallen Alexander. The Evil Genius takes an age to stand and Va'aiga is waiting, taking one large stride on his better leg and leaping forward, nearly decapitating Alexander with the EVIL, VIVCIOUS, NASTY, TIME TO PUT YOU OUT OF YOUR GOD DAMN MISERY LAAAAARIAAAAAAAATOOOOOOOOO!

 

“ANOTHER LARIAT! ALEXANDER IS DOWN!”

 

Va'aiga drops to cover...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRE.... NO! ALEXANDER KICKS OUT AGAIN!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

 

Va'aiga just stands slowly, dragging Alexander up with him again. The scowling facial expression is now strangely blank, emotionless. There is the odd call of “NO!” from fans who have worked out what Va'aiga is about to try, what he knows he needs to use. Slowly Alexander's arm is drawn across his own throat.

 

“Do you think he's going for another Swiss Suplex, Francis.”

 

Ducking slightly, Va'aiga hoists up the Mad Scientist, Argentine Backbreaker style, all the time keeping Alexander's arm trapped across his neck.

 

“I fear not, King.”

 

Michael Alexander is in place. It's Genesis IX. It's the main event. He has fought an intense battle with great skill and style. Now his opponent is about to fall to a side Now he is about to get...

 

 

 

DROPPED

 

 

 

ON

 

 

 

HIS

 

 

 

MOTHERFUCKER

 

 

 

FUCKIN'

 

 

 

HEAD.

 

 

 

“VA'AIGA STINGER! OH MY GOD THAT HAS TO BE IT!”

 

 

 

Matthew Kivell counts...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!!!!! Va'aiga stands gingerly and has his belt handed to him, and steps slowly down to the floor, always keeping his free arm supporting him on a part of the ring. Funyon steps in the middle of the ring and calls out, “THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH BY PINFALL...AND STIIIIIL YOUR HEAAAAVYWEIGHT CHAAAAAAAAAAMPION OF THE WOOOOOOOOOOOOORLD! VAAAAAAAAAAAA'AAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGAAAAAAAAAA!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Va'aiga lifts the belt over his head before hobbling slowly up the entrance ramp as “Not Many” fires up across the PA. In the middle of the ring The Mad Sceintist of the Mat, The Eidolon of Excellence, The Evil Genius himself, Michael Alexander stands REALLLLLY slowly and raises his arms to the adoration and cheers of his home town crowd.

 

“YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAH”

 

“ALEXANDER!”

 

CLAP! CLAP! CLAPCLAPCLAP!

 

“NEXT WORLD CHAMP! NEXT WORLD CHAMP!”

 

Fade out.....