|
Post by BK London on Jan 3, 2011 18:25:51 GMT -5
Not even seconds after the bell rings, the two immediately start going at it - exchanging lighting fast punches. Rights after rights after rights land, but it's FSX who gets the upper hand while breaking up that monotony by landing a swift kick to the abdomen. The sharp kick sends the air running out of the lungs of BK London, and now FSX looks to give him the first taste of barbed wire by irish whipping him into the ropes. London approaches the ropes, but quickly he manages to stop himself and turns around, walking right into a high roundhouse kick – connecting square to the temple. London is knocked for a loop, but he doesn’t fall flat on his back – but rather on his right knee. Knowing he can’t use the ropes to propel himself, FSX has no choice but to create some distance to get himself a running head start. London rises back up, and it’s FSX who comes at him and manages to get on a Tilt-A-Whirl Headscissors. The crowd anticipates BK London being tossed out the ring with that, but surprisingly enough FSX manages to latch in the Christo, grabbing that free arm for the armbar.
”Fast” Eddie Edison: CHRISTO! CHRISTO!
Maxwell McNally: This match has barely even gotten off it’s feet and FSX has already latched in one hell of a submission maneuver! Will BK London tap? Could this be the biggest blemish on his ACW record thus far?
FSX pulls back like no tomorrow, just waiting to hear that pop from the shoulder, but London proves to be quite strong – not quickly succumbing to the submission. London stumbles around in the ring, with the entire weight of Fallen Souls wrapped around him, and he eventually drops down to one knee and eventually down to the mat. One arm free, London begins crawling towards the ropes – moving the entire body of FSX with him, and he reaches out to the ropes to grab it to break the lock, only to be reminded that it is laced with extremely sharp barbed wire. Within the opening moments of this match, FSX has already enacted a plan that is basically fool proof – leaving London with the choice if either grabbing the rope to break the hold and possibly slicing his hand, or continuing to be placed in this excruciating submission. FSX wrenches back a bit more, and London reaches over and eventually grabs the ropes. It’s Keiji Makabe, the referee of this match, who tells FSX to break the hold – but just to piss him off a bit longer; FSX utilizes the full five count to make London hold onto it longer. After four, FSX does indeed break the hold and London manages to escape under the bottom rope for refuge.
”Fast” Eddie Edison: You just know that HAD to hurt.
Maxwell McNally: That’s one of the consequences in this match! A submission forces you to approach your fears head on and touch the barbed wire. Man, if FSX keeps up a strategy like this – BK London’s gonna be done in no time.
While he does have that tape wrapped around his hand for protection, it still hurt pretty bad – even ripping some of the tape off and revealing his skin. He knows full well from now that he can’t allow that to happen once more, and he looks back in the ring at Fallen Souls – who seems to be egging him on. This makes the former 3 time World Champion extremely angry. London slithers back into the ring, and without any fear delivers a huge right hand to the jaw of Fallen Souls.
Maxwell McNally: OUCH. Nothing pretty about that, just a huge haymaker to the jaw.
The extremely stiff punch may have knocked a bicuspid loose, but after checking himself, it seems FSX is okay. He regains his footing and fires back with an extremely hard knife edge chop of his own, that sends a shock throughout London and makes his knees buckle under him. The stinging wears off for a bit, reddening the chest of London just a bit – and he smiles. Fallen Souls shoots a sneaky smirk right back, and the two go for their respective moves once more – but its FSX who’s quicker to the punch with a chop to the chest. The chops send London back, and back and back, until his back grazes against the sharp barbed wire. London inches back forward and FSX kicks him in the solar plexus once more. The soul of Seoul looks behind him back at the ropes, and decides he’s going to give London another taste of the wire. Irish whipping London, he throws him across the ring towards the ropes and there’s little time to react. However, with quick thinking, London pulls the only move he can and he baseball slides under the bottom rope to the outside. This garners major heat from the crowd, not only because he has only made off with a few minor scratches – but because he smiles and begins pointing to his head, as if to say he’s smarter than FSX and the rest of them. The former ACW champion FSX doesn’t take this lightly however, and he runs towards the ropes and dives through them with a Suicide Dive – taking out BK London and getting a huge pop from the fans here in the ACW arena.
”Fast” Eddie Edison: PLANCHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!
Maxwell McNally: Really? Really? Eddie?
”Fast” Eddie Edison: Well excuse me if we all didn’t have to take CMLL commentating jobs in our off season to make ends meet. ¡Ay coño!
Maxwell McNally: Que?
Both men land on the ground below, but it’s FSX who writhes in pain a bit more as he manages to catch a few of the sharp edges of the barbed wire as he dives through. He screams and rolls onto his side rather quickly, and the cameras zoom into one long bloody mark down the back of FSX. Still though, he sucks up the pain and is the first to return to his feet – and he goes over and picks up London as well, who has rolled over by the steel steps. But London’s only playing possum, quickly he grabs the pants of Fallen Souls and he manages to pull him forward – sending FSX’s head slamming against the top step violently. The impact sends Fallen Souls down to the ground, and London is able to slither away for a bit. He grabs onto the steel barricade to pull himself up before he decides to take a breath. Making sure FSX stays down, he returns by him and gives him a few hard kick for measure before lifting up the ring skirt and looking under the ring.
Eureka.
It appears he has found exactly what he’s looking for, pulling out a rusty old tool box and placing it on the apron of the ring. While he wasn’t prepared to face Fallen Souls tonight, he did come prepared to fight in a match that he has already fought in two times before. Opening the toolbox, he grabs the pair of wire cutters and begins snipping away at the barbed wire on the bottom rope. Referee Keiji Makabe begins yelling at London, asking him to stop – possibly because it might take away from the excitement of the match, but as normal BK London is - he fails to pay any mind. He snips away at the bottom rope, eventually unlacing the bottom rope of any barbed wire but instead has gotten himself a long piece. He throws the long single piece of barbed wire into the ring, and now goes back after Fallen Souls – who appears to have made it back up to his knees. London goes to grab his hair, but he surprises London with a right hand to the jaw which sends the Grand Slam Champ stumbling backwards. London regains is footing and charges again, right into another right.
A double punch to the abdomen sends London keeling over, and a Rolling Liger Kick manages to take the former champion down for good. With the bottom rope bare, FSX is free to travel in and out the ring without fear of scathing – a much needed plus in this match. FSX picks up BK London and dumps him back into the ring, but also rolls back into the ring himself. London manages to roll over and he grabs the sole piece of barbed wire, enduring the brief pain, and conceals it under him. Slowly, he begins to get up and Fallen Souls measures him up for a Silence Kick.
Backing up, FSX lunges forward for the Scissors Kick to ‘silence’ his enemies, but London evades it. Picking up the barbed wire, he pops up behind FSX and wraps it around his face before pulling him down to the mat. FSX holds onto his face as London quickly makes the cover, and it’s a genius move…
ONE . . TWO . KICK OUT!
”Fast” Eddie Edison: BK London could’ve just ruined the facial features of Fallen Souls right there! And somehow he managed to kick out! That’s incredible.
Maxwell McNally: Just a testament to the endurance of Fallen Souls! He’s showing us why he was a former ACW Champion!
Managing to get his shoulder up before three, FSX evades what could’ve been an embarrassing loss, but still feels the pain of the barbed wire digging into his face. A mark is left on his cheek, and it doesn’t appear that London is done as of yet. Grabbing FSX’s arm with a leg scissors while he pins him down on the mat on his stomach, London wraps the barbed wire around his face once more and PULLS. A hardcore variation of the Cripple Crossface has been implemented, and FSX screams out in pain as London can only get some sick pleasure out of this.
”Fast” Eddie Edison: OW! OW! OW! OW!
Maxwell McNally: London’s just taking his level of viciousness up a notch! Remember back in the day he proclaimed himself “The Hardcore Legend” and while that might’ve been a MAJOR overstatement back then, he’s certainly living up to the moniker right now.
|
|
|
Post by BK London on Jan 3, 2011 18:26:41 GMT -5
However, the pair isn’t far from the bottom rope and FSX manages to get his right leg on the bottom rope – forcing London to release the hold eventually.
The sick BK London gets back up to his feet and he gloats, and holds up his new weapon of choice, the barbed wire in front of the 40,000 fans packed into the ACW arena – and they return with a mixed reaction.
London smiles and now stands over Fallen, who’s now bleeding from the bridge of his nose and his cheeks. He looks down and disrespectfully slaps FSX across the face, which must hurt Fallen’s pride much more than his mangled face. London slaps him again, and now picks him up by his hair and places him in a front facelock.
The Revolver might end this match right now, but to the delight of the fans FSX manages to back body drop BK London down to the mat – using whatever strength he had deep down in him left. An urgent counter, but it needed to be done, and now London clutches his lower back before heading back up and walking right into FSX who hoists him up on his shoulders for the Soul Transfer. Almost immediately, London grabs a handful of nose & eyes – raking them, and he quickly slips off his shoulders, proving if London’s not the dirtiest player in the game, he’s a shoo-in for second place. London falls behind FSX, turns him around and leaps before landing the MedEvil London – a leaping STO which drills FSX into the mat. London quickly sits back up, and looks back down at FSX with disgust, not only because just of pure hate – but disappointment in his performance in this match thus far.
He turns over on his stomach and slithers out of the ring, before heading back under the ring skirt once more.
Reaching under, he pulls out a weapon that we have not seen in quite a long time in ACW. The maniacal BK London appears to have pulled out all the tricks for this last encounter, and he did not disappoint as a collective gasp goes over the crowd for the bed of light tubes.
Maxwell McNally: Light Tubes?! Oh boy! This is becoming much more than a Barbed Wire Massacre match? We haven’t seen light tubes since the days of Skurai back in the old ACW days!
”Fast” Eddie Edison: I have it under good authority that these aren’t just normal Fluorescent light tubes! Instead BK London has purchased those new eco-friendly light tubes; they save energy and help the environment! BK London’s going green for sure!
Maxwell McNally: Green or not, somebody’s gonna see red very soon!
London picks up the bed of light tubes and slides them under the bottom rope into the ring, before sliding in with them right after. He positions it down right behind Fallen Souls, and wonders if this is how he should strike – but a more fiendish plan comes into play. London grabs the bed of light tubes and sets them up in the corner. Of course they’re not that large so they come up to only the middle turnbuckle – but London still has a plan in order. He then returns to FSX and begins stomping away at him, before dragging him over to the light tubes and sitting him down on them. Another slap across the face insults Fallen Souls, but London doesn’t care – as he isn’t here to make any sort of friends,
Maxwell McNally: Absolutely DISRESPECTFUL!
FSX’s vision is blurry and he can only hear the faint sounds of the fans close to him screaming for him to move. The ground definitely is a bit colder than before and a lot more plastic – it’s only until London positions himself way across the ring that things begin to become clearer. FSX’s eyes widen a bit, and now he sees BK London race across the ring and full speed and almost at the last possible seconds he dives out of the way. London has already flipped forward for the classic Crown Heights Roll, a corner flipping senton splash – and the result isn’t as at all what London expected.
”Fast” Eddie Edison: DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANGEROUS!
Maxwell McNally: Those Eco-Friendly light bulbs have just dug their way into the spine of BK LONDON!
London lands back first on the bed of light tubes and simultaneously all shatter of them from the weight of the former heavyweight champion and the crowd goes absolutely nuts. London can only lay there, motionless with his face frozen. There are no loud scream, but the look of pure terror is etched on his face. He rolls over on his stomach, and you can see the shards of glass digging into his back – and it may be even more painful than what the barbed wire has done to him. The camera closes in and we see the open pieces of skin as only a few of the hundreds, pieces of glass fall out of his back to show the open pieces of skin. Blood trickles down his back, and Fallen Souls knows to do only one thing now….win.
Maxwell McNally: Could it be lights out of BK London?!
ONE . . TWO . . THRE-KICK OUT!
”Fast” Eddie Edison: OH MY! He kicked out! He kicked out! How did he kick out!?
Somehow, BK London gets his shoulder up from the mat – even after how much pain his back took in that encounter.
Fallen Souls looks up, wondering exactly how BK London could’ve kicked out from that, but Makabe indeed confirms that it was a two count. In a rage, he picks up London once more and sets him up in a suplex position. While he may be outweighed by 40lbs or so, FSX manages to garner the strength to hoist up London long enough to toss him rip first onto that barbed wire lace top rope – which gets a cringe from the crowd for sure. London hangs there, as the wire digs into his abdomen – ripping at his skin and parts of his flesh, and FSX follows up by planting a major kick to the jaw, sending him down to the apron and eventually out of the ring.
London is laying on the ground on the outside, cringing in pain, and he even begins coughing up a bit of blood – which may be the result of an internal injury or possibly a tooth knocked loose by that stiff kick. He starts crawling over to the announce table where Edison & McNally are calling this very match, and he begins pulling himself up using the table.
FSX slides under the bottom rope to the outside, and he grabs the head of London and bashes it against the announce table once. He then tells both Edison & McNally to move out the way, in which they do with no hesitation, and he removes the protection of the monitors and throws out both monitors from the announce table in succession. A few more forearm shots to the jaw drill into BK London, but London manages to get enough strength behind him to give one strong shove to FSX – sending him back a couple of yards. With the distance made, London knows he has to think quickly, FSX is already on his way back to advance towards him.
In possibly one of the quickest moves, he grabs the nearest camera man and shoves him into FSX. As the two crash into each other, the huge camera that was being held by the camera man smacks head first with FSX – dropping him like a sack of bricks and immediately busting his head open. London rests on the table once more, taking multiple breaths with that last urgent maneuver – now it’s his turn to take control.
Maxwell McNally: What a salty move by BK London!
”Fast” Eddie Edison: Salty but damn near effective! He’s busted open FSX and has regained the advantage in this match! Genius!
Avoiding the table completely, he grabs Fallen Souls and chucks him back under the bottom rope while looking under the ring and grabbing a new weapon of his own, a barbed wire baseball bat – keeping with the theme of this match. London tosses it in the ring right after, and rolls back in the ring behind Fallen Souls.
The blood has now made its way beyond the forehead of the former ACW Champion Fallen Souls, and is down to the bridge of his nose. That quick shot earlier has allowed the blood of FSX to blind him, but it won’t stop him from putting up a fight. London, sans bat, advances towards FSX only to be met with a few kicks to the abdomen and an elbow to the jaw. The roar of cheers behind FSX begins to grow with each new move hit, but London breaks through the barrage and tackles FSX into the ropes – nothing fancy at all. As FSX’s back strikes the barbed wire, London quickly grabs his arms and wraps the ropes around him – putting his opponent in much more trouble and in a bigger world of pain. Makabe makes his case with London to not use these sort of tactics, but of course London isn’t going to comply in any way. He now grabs the barbed wire baseball bat and slowly advances towards
Maxwell McNally: I don’t like where this is going one bit! He’s attached to the ropes! Ref, you’ve got to get him out of there!
”Fast” Eddie Edison: As much as I am a fan of BK London, I can’t condone this either! This is beyond having a match now, this is just human torture!
A smirk grows across the face of the former 2 time Entertainment Champion, and London places directly in front of FSX. As much as he can, Fallen tries to free himself but the combination of the tight ropes and pain felt with the razor sharp barbed wires digging into his arms are too much to handle. London taunts FSX a bit, shouting demoralizing comments in his face, before winding up and landing a major league bitch to the abdomen of FSX with the barbed wire bat. The fans wince, and FSX attempts to stomach at hit as much as he can – but almost seconds later he too begins to cough up blood. A second shot sends him into another world of pain, making it harder and hard for the fans in the audience to watch – and London now begins to wind up for the third. But it’s at this moment that referee Keiji Makabe steps in, grabbing the bat away from BK London before he could initiate that third swing. The fans roar in approval for the call made by referee, and while it is against the rules, there’s only so much a human being can watch another human being go through. London’s eyes widen, and he turns around and begins approaching Referee Makabe.
Maxwell McNally: About DAMN time. There comes a time as a human being you’ve gotta step in before someone gets seriously hurt!
”Fast” Eddie Edison: Hurt or not! This is the nature of the rules! This is a Hardcore Haven surrounded in barbed wire, and the referee has no right to step in!
Maxwell McNally: Well Makabe’s gonna have to live with that judgment call, and London doesn’t like this one bit!
There’s only so far the referee can move back before he finds himself almost against the razor sharp barbed wire. Surprisingly enough, FSX manages to find a way to break himself free unbeknownst to BK London. London continues to corner Makabe, and with his last ounce of strength lands a swift Rainbow STO that drills BK London into the mat. While BK is down, Fallen Souls doesn’t have the strength to cover and from here it’s any man’s game.
|
|
|
Post by BK London on Jan 3, 2011 18:27:47 GMT -5
Broken bodies litter the canvas, and from above it's truly a work of art. Both BK London and Fallen Souls have managed to beat each other to such a beautiful extent, as the blood soaked into the mat gives off a wonderful image similar to picasso. Truly it is a masterpiece designed for a madman to enjoy. But as Makabe investigates the status of the two stars of ACW past, it appears the masterpiece may be reaching it's close. Both men have kept relatively still since the delivery of the Rainbow STO, and the fans are beginning to grow restless at the thought that such a tremendous contest might reach a boring, dull, life-changing no contest result. But just as it appears that there is no choice but to call for the bell, life re-enters the ring. With a sudden wheeze and gasp of breathe, FSX slowly turns and pushes himself up to a seated position. The barbed wire has already torn deeply into his flesh and left wounds that still stung with a simple breeze of air. His eyes fluctuating from 'K.O' status, to the more reassuring 'I'm-too-old-for-this-shit' status. But still, regardless of all that has happened so far, he begins to slowly struggle his way back to his feet.
Maxwell McNally: They're not done yet?! Something has got to give!
”Fast” Eddie Edison: My money is on FSX's spine.
Just as he finally manages to regain his balance and stand before the loudly cheering fans, however, we learn just how delicate a situation this match is. Desperate to retain the momentum, BK lunges forward on the mat to deliver a chop-block to the back of Fallen's knee. Buckling and jerking under the pressure FSX has no choice but to fall forward from the blow. Noticing his position in the ring as he fell his eyes would open in clear shock, reaching forward to grasp at the barbed wire ropes instinctively in order stop himself from falling into them completely, and clearly grimacing as he gets a hold of them.
Just as it appears that the worst of it has passed though the sickening opportunity to destroy flesh and deliver punishment fills BK with another wind of energy. Pushing himself back up to his feet and backing up toward the other rope he would wait a moment...before racing forward to deliver a rocking Yakuza Kick from Hell to the middle of Fallen's back. Launched forward from the impact he would find his thrashed chest and stomach pressure closer into the barbed ropes, as the loud cheer of the fans extinguishes the loud grimacing cry of pain that FSX emits.
Maxwell McNally:Dear lord, flashbacks to King of the Deathmatch will haunt my dreams.
”Fast” Eddie Edison: Now available as a box set on Blu Ray!
Taking quick advantage of the situation BK would capitalize, moving forward to grasp at the back of Fallen's head, the korean King of Satire soon learning first hand what it's like to be in the backroom of a deli as his face is grated and grinded into the wire, several pregnant women and young children likely screaming or vomitting in the isles as flesh tore and blood clearly flowed from his face, making him almost indistinguishable. Deciding that he was done screwing around with the Mutoh scale BK would yank Fallen by the hair back to the ring, dropping him to the mat as Makabe clearly raced to his side to check on the convulsing star, ensuring he was still conscious as BK planned his next move of assault. When battling what is now a glorified 192 pound of ground beef you have to think of things carefully. Pushing Keiji from his way he reached down to drag Fallen back to his feet again. FSX was not quite a limp corpse just yet, but he looked well on his way to meeting that description. Looking at him in a moment of disgust he would scream something inaudible to the fans in attendance, before setting up once again from The Revolver. Not being met with much resistance this time around he managed to deliver the move to perfection, driving Fallen back to the ground and perhaps bringing this match to it's conclusion. Rolling him onto his back, BK would drop himself over him for the pin, an elbow to his face.
---ONE!
--------TWO!
---------------THREE!
A majority of the arena reached a chorus of boos as it appeared that the three was counted, before the alphatron was focused in on, Fallen's foot finding it's way to the nearby barbed wire rope, likely by instinct as Makabe signalled it was a two. BK looked over at Keiji in shock a moment, before shrugging it off and dragging Fallen away from the ropes. Setting him in the middle of the ring he would drop down once again to go for the pinfall before Fallen's arms shot back to life, grasping onto BK and dragging him down toward the mat with what appeared to be a small packaged, but was in actuality the DDT disguised as a Small Package that FSX used once upon a time to his advantage, leaving both men momentarily incapacitated on the mat.
”Fast” Eddie Edison: Are they dead yet?
Maxwell McNally: They're both still moving, still fighting. You have to think that whoever gets up first this time has the match in the bag!
Fallen seemed to find his legs first when recovery set in this time around, and despite the fact he looked ready to become a hamburger he returned to his feet, wiped the blood from his eyes and looked down to BK. Seeing he was in the middle of the ring, appearing down and out, instinct once again took over. Racing toward the ropes and leaping up to springboard off the middle rope he anguished upon doing so, leaping up to the top rope for the second springboard causing him to fall back in pain, his foot getting trapped and tangled in the top rope. Frozen Motion had come back to bite him in the ass, truly not appropriate for a match like this, but when instinct reigns free stupid things will happen. As his ankle was entrapped in the barbed wire BK would slowly return to his feet. Looking toward his hanging opponent with a smile it appeared that the advantage had fallen in his lap once again. Slowly making his way over to Fallen he looked at the situation, before suddenly grasping at Makabe's shirt and beginning to tear and pull it off as the ref struggled and pushed at him to stop. Things seemed to be getting bizarrely homoerotic for just a moment, before BK started to tear and wrap the fabric tightly around wrists and forearms, reaching forward to grasp and grasp and twist the ankle of Fallen entrapped in the rope, agony obvious as he locked the razor-sharp Corporate Lock. Makabe however didn't appear very forgiving following being disrespected and stripped a moment earlier, and the five count to follow lasted all of two seconds before BK was forced to relinquish to manuver.
Maxwell McNally:What just happened? I think I was temporarily blinded by the carnage in the ring.
”Fast” Eddie Edison: Makabe shirtless?
Maxwell McNally:Actually, I was refering to the Corporate Lock...
Backing away from FSX a moment as Makabe finally managed to free him of the rope, and to the cheers of many in attendance was delivered a new shirt, BK returned to his assault. Dragging Fallen back to the center of the ring he would reach down to once again grasp at his ankle, looking intent on locking in the Corporate Lock once again before he was flung forward into the razorsharp ropes by a roll. Losing his grasp due to that darned slippery blood he would do his best to angle himself through the ropes, managing to tumble between them with little damage done to himself as he fell to the outside. This allowed for two very important things to occur. First of all, Fallen was allowed a moment to recover. Second of all, BK was allowed to bring more spine-tingling and disturbed weapons into play. As Fallen slowly started to push himself back to his feet, clearly limping and having trouble even maintaining any balance, BK would start to pull sheets of glass from beneath the ring, starting to slide them under the bottom rope. Again and again he would make his way beneath it in order to pull out another sheet of glass, before finally he pulled out a single chair. Rolling back into the ring, Fallen had enough know-how to attack while he still could, racing forward and leaping up to deliver a Silence Scissor Kick to the back of BK's head as he made his way back up to his feet, finally managing to actually deliver the move properly as London would collapse down to one of the sheets of glass that now littered the ring, shuddering and spasming as it shattered beneath him, quick to roll off of it.
Maxwell McNally: An artery can be cut far too easily by glass like that. This just isn't responsible!
”Fast” Eddie Edison: I think we're in the splatter zone...
Wasting no time to capitalize and actually maintain the advantage for a moment Fallen would push himself back up off the mat, quickly moving the sheets of glass that BK had brought into the ring and setting them up at the other side of them. Stacking them, one by one until about 5 of them were stacked atop of each other. It would take quite a bit of impact to destroy that much plate glass simultaneously. As Fallen continued his miraculous quick-movement routine he turned to ensure that BK was still down and out on the ground. Dropping a boot to the back of his head he moved to pick up the chair that he had brought into the ring. Lifting it up for all to see and looking back at BK a grin came to his face. Stretching back he wouldn't waste a moment this time around, driving it back down to BK's back as his chest would be crushed between the impact and the shards of glass that remained littered in the ring. Though a wave of approval was heard throughout the arena, Makabe had a look on his face that spoke more to vomitting at the scenario. So much blood between the two of them. They could of saved a sick orphan. Instead, they fought to kill each other.
Tossing the chair to the ground and slowly dragging BK back up to his feet, a round of applause could be heard for both men as they stood there. Wobbling, in pain, bloody, but champions in their own right. They'd battled ten times over a period of seven years. It all came down to this, what was their final match. One truly for the ages. As they both looked to one another a moment, they let rage and rivalry take over. Trading punches back and forth as either man appeared ready to drop from any shot, they would rock. Stumbling and wobbling, using all of their strength to strike one another. As it appeared that BK was once again managing the advantage Fallen would duck a heavy haymaker right. As the former three time World Champion stumbled forward from the miss Fallen would take advantage of having his back. Grabbing him around the hips, he would look to deliver a German Suplex...shifted into a Powerbomb Pin! Attempting the Soul Digger at this point in the match wasn't exactly ideal, and though the move looked sloppy and exhausted he managed to turn just enough to deliver it properly. Not quite able to hold it for the pin, FSX would slowly move forward to lay over him and hook a leg weakly, going for the win.
-----------ONE!
--------------------TWO!
|
|
|
Post by BK London on Jan 3, 2011 18:29:56 GMT -5
Shooting up an arm to break free of the pin, Fallen would groan and roll off of him in disgust. Still not enough, after all of this time, and he was beginning to run out of ideas on how to keep BK down. Starting to pull him up once again off the mat he appeared distracted with thought, wondering still just what he could do to put this match away. As he was busy pondering he would be taken quite a bit by surprise, BK pulling out energy that one would imagine he didn't still have as he suddenly leaped up and delivered a Reverse STO, the Medievil London, to Fallen from seemingly nowhere. The burst of energy would sputter out rather quickly as he was very slow to roll FSX over, and unable to hook the leg as he laid over him for the pin.
Maxwell McNally:This has to be it. There's no way Fallen Souls can have anything left in him.
---------ONE!!!
--------------------TWO!!!!
---------------------------
But just as BK had a moment earlier, Fallen would shoot an arm up to break the pin at the last second, just barely escaping his fate. Frustrated but not about to let any more time of recovery pass, BK slowly pressed himself up to his feet and started to drag the groggy Fallen across the ring. Setting hit face against a bottom turnbuckle for a moment he would take in a deep breathe. Moving back toward the other turnbuckle, BK would race forward with the remaining energy that he had left in order to dive down and deliver a miniature facewash to Fallen at the bottom turnbuckle. Seated next to him now, he finished the effect by grabbing Fallen's face and forcing his mouth open, placing the barbed bottom rope in his mouth and slamming it down to deliver a very-modified Mouthwash. As FSX immediately pushed away and rolled back to the middle of the ring he would grasp and cover his mouth. Fresh blood was already trickled and pouring free from beneath his hands and too the mat, the pain apparently excruciating as one has to wonder where Issac Yankhem was at a time like this. Not about to take the victory just like that he started to yank Fallen back to his feet, looking at Makabe and pointing at the mat as if to say 'Get ready to count like a man!' he lifts Fallen up into the Death Valley Driver position. Though there is a clear moment of confusion as to what exactly was about to happen, it soon became evident as Fallen was dropped with a move of BK's eternal rival, the 1980s Flamingo Special being looked at as the potential finish of this match. Rolling him over to quickly grab the pin, this one might actually do it.
Maxwell McNally: As you all know Adrian Flamingo couldn't be here tonight, but his arsenal of moves are apparently making an appearance!
”Fast” Eddie Edison: And they still hurt too I bet!
---------ONE!!!!
-------------TWOOO!!!!!
----------THRRRRRRRRRE!!!!!!!!!
Unable to prove once and for all that he would obtain victory in spite of the man that couldn't be here to face him tonight, Flamingo's memory lives on untarnished as FSX manages to barely get a shoulder up. Livid at the fact that he had put the referee in position and still no managed to get the win there, BK would start shouting obscenities at Makabe as he dragged Fallen back up to his feet. The tirade didn't appear to have an ending in sight as London continued on with the match as if nothing was happening during his complaints, delivering a first German Suplex before slowly pulling him back up for another. As he delivered the second German Suplex his cursing came to a stop, delivering a third and dragging him up once again as he pulled him over toward the ropes. A grin on his face he would prepare for one last German into the barbed wire, preparing to do so before feeling a leg launch back into his balls. A low blow for the ages, Fallen would shift in order to get behind BK and deliver a Millenium Suplex, the Eastern Promises, right into the ropes as BK was dropped headfirst to the middle rope. Spasming and rolling around the ring as he grasped and covered the fresh wound on his forehead, his neck feeling rather numb from the rough landing, he would continued to flail on the mat ever as Fallen rached over to drop upon him and hook the leg for the pin.
-----ONE!!!
-----------------TWO!!!!!!!!
-----------------THR---
But the flailing, jerking motion of BK was enough to prevent the three from being counted, Fallen groaning a bit as he quickly pulled BK back up to his feet, intent on simply delivering another move to silence him. As they both reached their feet once again, however, FSX would instead be met by a sudden Shades of Michaels to the face, crumbling to the mat from the surprise as BK fell atop of him for the pinfall.
---------ONE!!!!!!
--------------TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!
Maxwell McNally: Not quite.
Despite the mental and physical anguish that both men were experiencing, neither seemed prepared to quit in what would very likely be the final contest for each of them. Staggering back up to his feet as he wandered over to the corner, BK would stare back at Fallen's prone form and smile, looking prepared to once again deliver a Shades of Michaels. As Fallen would slowly make his way back up as well it appeared that the manuver would inevitably succeed...that was of course until FSX saw the foot ready to connect with his jaw and ducked, allowing BK to stumble forward in the miss and quickly grab a hold of his wrist. Yanking him back toward him he would let out a loud cry to those in attendance, pulling him forward and lifting him up onto his shoulders. It was time for the original finale, as the Soul Tranfsfer was delivered in the middle of the ring. There was no long pause between the pinfall either, as Fallen hooked both legs and held on for dear life. Ready for the victory that would define him. For justice.
-------------ONE!!!!!!!
--------------------------TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
-------------------------------------------THREEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ding-ding. That was it. This one was over. Except not. Shock and awe filled Fallen as he saw Makabe hold up two fingers and call out that he hadn't mustered the pin, and he would sit up on his knees and rub over his eyes as he tried to think of something, anything to put this match to rest. Nothing at all came to mind. He was out of ideas...Slowly pulling BK back up to his feet he simply stared at his opponent a moment, before starting to lift him back up to his shoulders. Maybe another Soul Transfer..but no. BK managed to slide off of shoulders and deliver a swift Shades of Michaels directly to Fallen's jaw, the stunned Korean falling back in shock as he collapsed. Exhausted. Out cold. BK wasn't ready to write this off as the end of the contest, however, as he moved to roll Fallen over onto the plate glass that had been stacked in the ring earlier. If this match was going to end, they'd both be broken in the process. Laying him on the glass as Fallen was limp as a corpse now, BK would make his way over to the turnbuckle again -- this time to climb it. Making his way up to the top, BK stood there and eyed his pray a moment, before launching himself off of the turnbuckle, in suicidal fashion, to end this. To deliver a Cannonball Shooting Star Press. From Brooklyn...To London. The handing would be followed with a large crashing noise, as a smog of glass filled the ring a moment, everything rather fuzzy as blood was sure to be pouring from both man.
”Fast” Eddie Edison: HE IS DIED!!!! HE IS DIED!!!!!
Maxwell McNally: What..?
”Fast” Eddie Edison: Uh...DAAAAAANGEEEROOOOOUUUSS!!
|
|
|
Post by BK London on Jan 3, 2011 18:30:15 GMT -5
As the smog cleared, BK would be seen twitching and shuddering in the pile of glass, Fallen laying next to it and shuddering as shards were protuding from his back. As the impact left BK in the pile and Fallen next to it, one can naturally assume that FSX managed to roll out of the way at the last second. But was it too late? Looking between the mess that both men were left in, Makabe looked as if he had seen enough. Too much carnage. They were done. This match was over..But Fallen struggled. He struggled and he pushed his way back up to his feet, glass still protuding from his back as he seemed to be having trouble standing. Reaching down to grasp at BK London he would pull him up to his feet, staring at him a moment as he slowly lifted him up. BK seemed to regain his senses at that moment, and though weary and battered started to struggle in Fallen's gasp. Just as he was swung before him, and dropped in a sickening fashion to the canvas. A single Drop of Blood falling from Fallen's brow as he delivered the namesake, and collapsed in a heap over BK.
----------------ONE!
---------------------------------TWO!
-------------------------------------------THR--
EE!
This time, it was too much. It was finally over. Both men, broken. A massacre indeed.
Phillip: ...THE WINNER of this match, via pinfall, FAAAAAAAAALLLLEEEEEEN.....SOUUUUUUUUUUUULS!
As 'Art of Life' by X Japan blasted through the speakers, both men remained in the ring. They both seemed relatively motionless, in a single pool of conjoined blood at this point as medics finally were allowed to race to the ring to check on them. After all that had happened, you'd figure this was it. This was the last time you'd ever see either of them compete. But you must remember..they've gotten up before. They are insane, insane people. They live to entertain, and they're not dead yet.
|
|
|
Post by BK London on Jan 3, 2011 18:31:30 GMT -5
Breaking my own rules and leaving an open place to Yoko, who will surely want to add something.
|
|
|
Post by BK London on Jan 3, 2011 18:31:58 GMT -5
Segment: A big farewell (Credit: Mark)
As the show progresses, we hear the sound of “Going Postal” hitting the arena. The crowd recognizes who the theme belongs to, and they stand as one in respect to the man who comes out from behind the curtain: Hitman of the Gods. Dressed in custom made street clothes and his hair tied back, Hitman is soon joined by his little sister Kayla Stevens. The two high-five the fans before they enter the ring, raising their arms to the people. The music fades, and Hitman gets a mic and a respectful “Hitman” chant.
Hitman: Hello once more!
Cheap pop.
Hitman: ACW, I have truly missed you, and I couldn’t believe I was hearing about the end of ACW! So I felt that it was in the right state of mind for me to come out of hiding, which is where I’ve been for the past seventeen months to be precise. Now, where do I begin? Ah yes. I first joined ACW after being denied my chance to shine in the Kritical Wrestling Alliance in 2005. I came with one goal in mind: to have a fresh start. Lo and behold, I did. I wrestled against the best of the best, put my body on the line, and had a fun time entertaining everyone here. I will never forget the rebirth of my career, from when I received my first world title match against the Macho Man...
The crowd reacts huge to the Macho Man, although only a few, drowned out fans boo him because of his Hollywood persona.
Hitman: ...to my all-time favourite match I’ve been in, the Russian Chain match against BK London...
Another huge reaction, and the emotion sweeps over Hitman.
Hitman: ...to rescuing my little sister Kayla...
Hitman playfully ruffles his sister’s hair. Kayla forms a small smile on her face.
Hitman: ...to my days on Fallout, all leading up to when I stared death in the eye and fought my way back to ACW. To all of my fans, I apologize once more for that and will go to incredible lengths to ensure I stay alive for years to come.
The fans respond with more cheers, which only puts a bigger smile on Hitman’s face.
Hitman: Now, I know that all good things must come to an end. I knew I wanted to stay in ACW forever, but alas that wasn’t meant to be. I only say with a heavy heart that I knew this day would be coming for a long time as well. However, that doesn’t mean I don’t care. It means that I want everyone to look back on the work everyone here in ACW did, and be proud to have witnessed an amazing six or seven years of this company. I regret nothing here in ACW, and I will leave this building knowing that we have all done good work here. As far as what my downtime will consist of, I plan on going hunting, going back to Greece, and ensuring my sister has a bright and successful future.
Kayla smiles once more as Hitman beckons to the crowd one final time.
Hitman: With that said, I thank you all for being fans of what was the greatest wrestling company in the world... and for joining me in making sure all of my opponents were to FEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEL... THE WRATH...
Crowd: ...OF THE GODS!
Hitman: THANK YOU!
Hitman drops the mic and goes over to the turnbuckles, raising his arms to the cheering crowd. Hitman and Kayla soon leave the ring and go up the ramp, high-fiving the fans along the way. Once the two reach the stage, Hitman raises his arms once more to a good pop before taking his leave with Kayla.
Fade.
|
|
|
Post by BK London on Jan 3, 2011 18:32:43 GMT -5
Bound to Rust Credit: The Reprobate & ? We come back to the arena with a wide shot of the crowd, anticipating the next match. "You didn't think I was done just yet, did you?" The crowd begins booing loudly as the familiar voice echoes through the speakers. The camera cuts to the entrance area where The Reprobate comes out, this time wearing his new wrestling gear. A sleeveless, baggy black t-shirt. Long black tights with the Brainiac symbol on the sides in several colors. Long torn jeans over the tights, and large black elbow pads with white taped fists. He finally hits the ring as he continues his speech. The Reprobate: NOW... since we're 1 for 1 here tonight, and since I am the ONLY wrestler in ACW history who was so good, he was banned from competing... I'm gonna lay down the challenge right now. If there is any man... any ATHLETE... any WRESTLER... in the back, in this company, or in ANY company... who thinks that they can realistically get in to this ring and stand toe to toe with ME... then I suggest, bring your ass out here RIGHT. NOW. Maxwell McNally: He just made an open challenge, and I'm sure there are a ton of men backstage who'd like to accept it! Eddie Edison: He made a lot of people in this company angry! He made a lot of people's lives miserable! I guess right now it's just a matter of who wins the brawl backstage to find out who's going to be able to get to him first! The Reprobate turns to the entrance area, but not a soul comes out. The crowd begins chanting names such as "Vortex" - "Thunderkiss" - and even "Freeman" , but no one shows up. The Reprobate: That is what I THOUGHT. You know, nothing more can be expected from a company full of chickenshits, who BITCH to management when they can't take the heat. I have seen wrestlers come, and I have seen wrestlers go. None of them lasted. NONE OF THEM were able to hang with the likes of me. All of them found out, very quickly, and in no uncertain terms.... that when you fuck with me, you DIE. So I'll give this chickenshit six year company one more chance. One more opportunity to go out with at least a whimper of respect. If you think you've got the GUTS... come out here and let me close the curtain once and for all... As he drops his microphone, far from affected by the loud and abrupt disapproval he receives from ACW's final crowd, The Reprobate cracks his neck and arches his knees. He looks thirsty for competition, and in his mind he's receiving the best. After all, when you're the owner of a successful company, and you've stood up against the worst of attacks, physical and verbal, why wouldn't you be as proud as he? Honestly, the man has even defeated death... which isn't something a lot of people can say. Except for maybe, 2Pac, but that's an entirely different tale for another show. Reprobate awaits in the middle of the ring, the crowd beginning to stop their feet with chants of "Kill The Repro" begin to crash through the arena like a heat seeking missile. Repro still ignores them, a smirk crawling over the side of his mouth, as the anticipation builds. He wants the best, and only that... but what he isn't aware of, is that he's getting the greatest of all time. Alright, already the show goes on.. Alright, till the morning we dream so long.. Anybody ever wonder, when they would see the sun up.. Just remember when you come up.. The Show Goes On!
Alright, already the show goes on.. Alright, till the morning we dream so long.. Anybody ever wonder, when they would see the sun up.. Just remember when you come up.. The Show Goes On! [/CENTER] "The Show Goes On" by Lupe Fiasco begins to unravel throughout the arena who are aware, and even those who are still in wonder literally explode (well, not literally but extremely close) out of their seats... the raging screams make the cameras shake and Rep has no choice but to become more aware himself of just what or who is coming out to the arena. He cocks an eyebrow and stands to his feet, pondering but not letting himself be knocked off his own gameplan. As the song continues to resignate throughout the arena, the wonder of everyone becomes reality as he emerges from behind the curtain and poses with just the right amount of light hitting him. He's Back! Maxwell McNally: It's.. it's.. Eddie Edison: JAKE STEELE !!! Shock? Awe? Amazement. No one knew it, no one expected it, but everyone appreciates it. In short words, they say surprises aren't for everyone and a surprise can lead to many things. Three of those being the exact words in which were just used, and the irony of it is that all three of those key examples are key feelings and emotions. The perfect examples of how you could describe the mindsets of the entire ACW island. Or more specifically how you could describe the mindset of one, The Reprobate. His eyes, lit up like the most sinful night in Las Vegas, can't believe what he is seeing. Afterall just like everyone else, it was thought that other ventures became more of an essence to this man. To the point where even a final show wouldn't bring him back, to say there has been no trace of this man would be an understatement. He nearly fell off of the face of the earth. And to believe he would come back on this night, with his sights set on a man whom he shares a deep history with.. seems actually plausible. But for the man he's targeting himself, it's nothing more than a ghost. A figment of his drug influenced imagination. Years of him killing his body has obviously began to destroy his mind as well, right? Wrong. In actuality, Jake Steele is alive and well. And as he cocks his head up, the infamous smile he became world renowed for is showed off on this island, and nothing but cheers follow. Closing his eyes to soak in the warm embrace, he shakes his head and dusts a shoulder off. There hasn't even been an word uttered yet, and the chants already begin to pour in.. "Welcome Back, Welcome Back!". Steele smiles, and he whispers a "thank you", before deciding it's time he break his silence. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulls out a black and silver microphone. Having clearly never changed one bit, he still believes in the "custom made" lifestyle. Black leather jacket, shadow black LV shades, black rockstar gloves, black and silver christian dior denim jeans, and the finest versache shoes... in black, of course. Steele shrugs his shoulders up, and puts his lips to microphone for the first time in years. Jake Steele: Were you expectin' Stan Vishis, nigga? The crowd is at a stand still, but their mouths can be heard cheering on their former (and in many ways, present) idol. Jake Steele, the former World Heavyweight champion, the man who many saw as one of the biggest breakout stars in ACW history, stands in the center of the ring, his eyes locked with not just one of ACW's most hated men in history... not just a man who nearly ran ACW out of business... but a man who has known Jake Steele his entire career. Without a word having been uttered for close to a minute, the crowd continues showering the two with attention, wanting to see nothing more than the two go at it... hell, they'd accept a verbal confrontation. Something. Steele raises his microphone to give it to them. "At least Stan Vishis had the nuts to let his fans know he wasn't going to be there for them." The voice we heard wasn't Steele's. The crowd erupts in to a frenzy of jeers, targeted at the Anti-Christ of ACW. The crowd knows their history, and if they don't, the look on Jake Steele's face paints the picture perfectly, and tells you everything you needed to know about their personalities. The Reprobate, always one to say what he feels, right up in the face of oppression. But Jake Steele, always shrugging off his opponent's words and never letting anything get to his head. Jake Steele knows his game, and he knows that the best way to get back at Reprobate is to allow him to self destruct. The camera zooms in on The Reprobate's face, his frustration clear. Jake Steele's appearance at this event is nothing but a hindrance to his peer. These men trained together. They know each other like the back of the other's hand. They've shared laughs, they've sympathized during hard times. And now, their dirty laundry has been exposed, live in front of a worldwide audience. The Reprobate: I have been waiting for years to get you face to face like this, in front of your adoring crowd... just so I can tell them, and tell you... that you are an irritation. You are a virus. You are a leech. You. are. an embarrassment. The crowd stops booing the man they hate most, and begin clapping and stomping for Jake Steele to respond, whether it be with a microphone or a fist. When it becomes obvious that Steele is just fine being a member of the audience along with them, they all quiet down to allow The Reprobate to continue his one man show. The Reprobate: You had the life of luxury. You had limousines. You had women. You had a Heavyweight championship title around your waist. What did you do with it? You squandered it. You waited until your stock rose to unimaginable levels... and then you sold out. You see, I'm not a mark like everyone sitting in these seats. I can see right through your facade. They're cheering for you now, and how fitting? A hero to the end. These people weren't cheering for you when you needed them the most. These people weren't buying your t-shirts at Omega Effect two years ago. These people were cheering for Steve Phillips. These people were cheering your demise. You WANTED TO BE ME. YOU STOLE EVERYTHING FROM ME. As his voice raises and his temper flies off the charts, the crowd begins booing his statements. As absurd as they may sound, one can't help but admit that the crowd may just be falling victim to a game of argumentum ad lapidem. The Reprobate: But there's a difference between you and me. When this crowd booed you, you were bothered. When this crowd cheered for your opponent, you were agitated. When they called you the devil, you hated it. When they called me the devil.... I loved it. And how predictable of these people to cheer you on for your final swan-song? How obvious is it, that these people are cheering you, simply because you've been out of the spotlight. Let's not forget how you got there. By turning your back on them, and walking away. You walked away from a million dollar contract. You walked away from a World Heavyweight championship. You let these people down. The crowd begins booing, possibly (and partly) out of sheer guilt. Steele attempts to maintain his composure, and does a good job of doing it. As the words sink in to his mind slowly, his heart rate slowly starts to increase. The Reprobate: But that's not why I have a problem with you. That's not why I have a deep rooted HATRED for everything you're about. My problem with you starts at the very core. Day one. You and I were equals. Your uncle trained me. Your uncle trained you. In the same sweaty, dark gym. We grew up in this business together. But do these people know that? Do these people know about our past? I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't, because when you won that World Heavyweight championship... you changed. You were all smiles. You didn't want people to know that we knew each other. You tried to cover up your tracks and pretend that you were an entirely different person. You didn't want to be associated with me. How dare you even come close to acknowledging that you are somehow embarrassed of me? You didn't like the way I did business. You didn't think the fans would like it. You thought it'd burn a bridge or two if your employers knew we were friends. If you thought I embarrassed you before, you're never going to show your face in a wrestling ring again after I embarrass you tonight. The crowd is now back to clapping for Steele and wanting to see him do something, anything, other than standing and listening to The Reprobate's soliloquy. The Reprobate: ...And you think that you're a star now. You think you're somebody different. You can't kill what's in here. You can't repress those memories of what you were. You've INVENTED yourself. You've RE-INVENTED YOURSELF. You thought you'd get away with it scott-free. You didn't think that anybody who saw your first match was still alive. Let me be frank with you, Jake. I'm alive. I can see it in your eyes. When I look at you, I see past the expensive jewelry, the top of the line clothing. And when I look past all of that, I see a scared little boy. I see the scared little boy that you were, ten years ago. I see the kid that would return phone calls. I see the kid that would always have time for his friend. I see the kid who just wanted to be a wrestler. Jake... stop this facade... please. Just come home to New York. Let's forget about the past three years. As the words roll off of The Reprobate's tongue, Jake Steele begins rationalizing his words. The Reprobate... he may be manipulative. He may be petty. He may have the reputation of always being up to no good... but he has a point. Maybe it'd be best to forget about the past three years. Maybe it'd be best to go home in your retirement, spend your final years with old friends, and get fat together. Maybe the best thing to do would be to forget. Forget the wins. Forget the losses. Forget the attacks. Forget the bad times. Forget the good times. Forget ACW... The Reprobate: COME ONE, BIG SHOT. BIG TIME CHAMPION. YOU THINK YOU'RE BETTER THAN ME? YOU THINK THESE PEOPLE FORGOT HOW I PINNED YOUR ASS LAST YEAR? YOU THINK THAT YOU'RE ABOVE ME NOW, BECAUSE YOU HELD THAT WORLD TITLE? But before Steele could even respond, The Reprobate began blowing a gasket at the crowd's response, and the fact that Steele showed no emotion toward his "kind" words. His face has now gone red in anger. The Reprobate then turns his neck and spits on the ACW mat, in the ultimate sign of disrespect. The Reprobate: I SPIT ON THAT TITLE. THAT TITLE MEANS NOTHING TO ME. THAT TITLE HAS BEEN PASSED AROUND MORE THAN A TWO DOLLAR STREETWALKER. The crowd's jeers increase, and many ponder if The Reprobate's rage is coming from a deep rooted jealousy. Having never won a World Heavyweight title, perhaps the root of The Reprobate's stance of being fed up with the system has finally been revealed. As his breathing increases, Jake Steele's face has gone sour. Finally showing emotion, he sends the crowd in to a frenzy (and The Reprobate in to a state of shock) when he snatches the microphone out of Reprobate's hand. The crowd is now on their feet and waiting for Jake Steele to make a statement. Jake Steele: You know what, after all that there is only thing I could say. And honestly... it's thank you. The crowd watches on in slight confusion, not exactly sure if this is genuine or just sarcasm. Similar thoughts are upon the mind of Reprobate, as he tilts his head to the side wondering himself. Before long, the blank expression on Steele's face, the innocent eyes of the young boy he claims to see in Steele, gives Reprobate the impression that he is being completely honest. A smirk transitions on Reprobate's face, as he believes that he's finally got Jake Steele right where he wants him. Right in the palm of his hand... where every other man The Reprobate has ever manipulated, ended up. Though the wonder of the crowd, and the intrigue of Rep is all cut short, as a change of expression from blank to that of a smirk on Steele's face confides everyone this isn't what Rep wants. Jake Steele: Thank you, for still being the most self-centered, egotistical, pompous, controllin', God-complex havin', I just turned water into wine and I'ma turn this four loko into somethin' safe, pill poppin', boss of bosses, wannabe me, bitch that I remember! And with that, Rep's fuse is lit and Steele's star begins to shine as the crowd bursts into cheers for that perfect retort. These two aren't pulling any punches, cutting around any corners, or holding anything back. Then again though why let anything stop them at this final show. Steele's demeanor turns cold as Reprobate eyebrows have lowered in to a state that signals to the crowd that he is what could be best described as annoyed. Jake Steele: See, when I took my hiatus a couple years ago, I was at the top of the mountain. You right. I was ridin' high, higher than I ever been and believe me, I've been pretty fuckin' high. I was the champion of this very orginization, when some say it was at it's peak. I defeated legends on my way there, and I defeated a "legend" in Jay Zero to become champ. Every night I went out there with that strap around my waist, I not only had somethin' to prove but I had the biggest target on my back. You think I'm just sayin' shit? Nah, I had everyone attack me. Former bestfriends, family members, old niggas on steroids, famous old niggas on steroids who looked like Macho Man, shit I even had a nigga from the senate fuck with me! Do you know how it feels to wake up every mornin, not knowin' if the one thing you prayed for could be taken away in the blink of an eye!? NO! And you have the fuckin' nerve to spit on that title's legacy? FUCK YOU! YOU WILL NEVER BE WHAT I WAS , OR WHAT AM I TODAY! AND THAT IS STILL, THE NIGGA WHO JUST DON'T GIVE A FUCK! Steele's claim should've hit Reprobate right in the heart, but he seems unaffected. Maybe he's just gotten good at hiding his emotions. He's had a lot of practice. Jake Steele: But that's not even what makes me and you different, that ain't even why you and me have never... clicked. If you wanna know why we never seen eye to eye, I'll tell you right now bruh. It's simple, you look into a mirror and watch ya' own reflection. And when you do I betcha' you gon' see same thing I see.. and you know what that is? Look into that mirror, and I betcha' you will see nothin'. From day one, even my uncle seen it durin' trainin, I seen it, but he thought you would break out of it.. maybe you would realize everything ain't revolve around you. But thing is, you ain't never see it, you just couldn't grow... up. You couldn't believe within yourself that you weren't God, you couldn't take yourself out of your own world and bring yourself into reality, which is somethin' I did. Which is why I embraced these people when I did reach the top!
...Even if they took their time to turn their backs on me. The final line leaves the crowd somewhat confused and on the fence, so they decide to quiet down and listen further. Perhaps Steele will explain himself. Maybe he won't. He rarely has to. Especially to the people. But with The Reprobate listening, Steele is doing his best to attempt and show-up his rival. Steele's excuses thus far for the end of their friendship leave Reprobate more agitated than shocked. He doesn't believe them to be true... but that's just one man's opinion. Jake Steele: I wasn't always accepted by these people, and they don't have to admit it, but it's true. But I know why... because I was on the verge of becoming you. Somewhere along the lines, that power I held became too much. It made me reckless, and I became ignorant, I became thirsty for more power... and when I looked in the mirror at my own self at Omega Effect two years ago, I saw nothin'. I had to leave... I found myself, when I did, I vowed one day I would find the root of that evil which spread inside of me, and it was you. You made me like I was, and I promised to myself, and my uncle that I would kill the root of all evil. I'ma kill The Reprobate!
You're not even human - you're an infectious personality disorder. You'd probably expect The Reprobate to be shocked, appalled, or upset at Steele's jab. Surprise... he isn't. In fact, with all of the charm of Lucifer himself, Reprobate lets out a laugh that escapes from the depths of his inner-workings. He's amused by Steele's claim. After all, he strives to be sinister, and reprobation is his line of work. What he doesn't find funny, however... is the fact that Steele is getting loud with him... and it doesn't get much louder than the volume that Steele is currently working at. Jake Steele: AND TONIGHT, I'MA GET INSIDE YO' HEAD AND GET RIGHT IN YO' FACE! AND DO YOU KNOW WHY, BECAUSE I
STILL...
DON'T...
GIVE...
A...
FUCK! The crowd frenzies with his infamous catchphrase being quoted and repeated word for word by those in attendance for what is the last time. Steele puts his microphone in the air, resembling his infamous "Jesus pose" he performed two years ago during his World Heavyweight Championship reign. It's clear he has gotten back into the spirit he once carried during his stay in this organization. Though, it's even more clear that he wants to end the chapter of Jake Steele, while he kills the myth of The Reprobate. Steele stares blindly, The Reprobate looking more than ready. The crowd even moreso, as chants of "Fight" can be heard loud through the arena. The two men stare in to each other's eyes in the center of the ring. Steele stands, motionless, in his careless and iconic pose, his arms crossed. His face is completely lacking a human emotion, apart from determination, and the hint of that feeling you get when you know you've got a good chance of winning a match... but the thrill of losing it is what drives you to look forward to it. The Reprobate, conversely, shows his emotions on his sleeve. He's nervous... not because he doesn't think he can pin Steele. He's pinned him before. He's nervous because this is the first time he's ever been exposed to such an audience, in such a high caliber match. He paces from leg to leg, in place... but never taking eyes his away from Steele's. Maxwell McNally: What a coo by The Reprobate to lure Jake Steele back in to ACW! Eddie Edison: This is what he's been waiting for. This is the moment that he's been hoping for, for years now. It's the culmination of his career. He said it himself... forget a World Heavyweight title... forget, even, bringing PWA up in to a national promotion... this was his dream. Getting Steele in the ring, face to face. As the two titans continue the world's most intense staring contest, the ring announcer enters and stands in the distance, between the two. The bell then rings as he raises his microphone, and the camera focuses in on him. Philip Jones: Ladies and gentlemen... the following contest is scheduled for one fall to a finish, with NO minute time limit... and there will be NO DISQUALIFICATIONS!!! Maxwell McNally: No disqualifications? When was that stipulation decided? Eddie Edison: I think it's a given! Just look in to their eyes, and you'll see the very definition of a no DQ match! Maxwell McNally: I've just been told by a referee that The Reprobate informed the referee of this open challenge that the match would be no DQ all along... perhaps Rep knew exactly what he was doing?
|
|
|
Post by BK London on Jan 3, 2011 18:33:58 GMT -5
Credit: The Reprobate and Jake Steele Code: Impromptu Match Credit: The Reprobate As the two continue their stare off, the crowd is on their feet clapping, stomping, and banging on any object in sight in unison. The tempo of Reprobate's leg-to-leg pacing increases, as Steele's breathing gets heavier and heavier. Steele lowers his arms to his sides as the crowd's banging and clapping also increases speedily. As the noise reaches it's apex, The Reprobate's pacing stops and he open hand slaps Steele right in the face. Steele turns to his side and accepts the slap, and then fires back with a slap of his own, right to the head of Rep. Rep is just as unfaded as Steele, this time firing back with a punch to the jaw of Steele. Steele responds with a punch of his own that sends Rep back a few steps. Steele swings for another punch, but Rep ducks low, and then lands a clothesline right in to the chest of Steele! Maxwell McNally: Reprobate swings with a clothesline and knocks Steele down! Eddie Edison: Jake Steele is staggered to say the least! Maybe there was some truth to what Rep was saying earlier!? The Reprobate stands in the ring as the crowd begins chanting for Steele to get up. Steele rolls out of the ring and grabs his jaw as he walks around ringside, preparing for a comeback attack. The crowd is now solemnly behind Steele, wanting to see him run in and tear Rep apart. Steele slides in to the ring, and is met with a boot to the head from Rep. Rep grabs Steele and bounces him off the ropes, shooting him in to the opposite set. Steele comes back looking for a clothesline but Rep ducks. Steele continues running and comes back from the other ropes, this time going for his Bigger boot! However, The Reprobate evades the boot by diving out of the way, and then, thanks to his newfound agility after losing 30 pounds of mass, he is able to roll his shoulders and land on his feet. Rep then quickly runs at Steele, who is just turning around, recovering from the missed boot. Reprobate lands a huge Shining wizard to Steele, which rocks his jaw and sends him to the mat. Eddie Edison: Max, this is starting to worry me... Maxwell McNally: You're telling me! I've never seen someone take it to Jake Steele like this so early in the match! Could it be ring rust? Eddie Edison: Well, aside from a few random matches himself, The Reprobate has been retired from active competition just as long as Jake Steele has! With Steele down, The Reprobate turns his attention to the crowd, mocking Steele and gloating over the fact that he's got the match in his favor. Rep starts a shouting match with a large fan at ringside, until he turns his attention back to Steele, clocking him with a bionic elbow, sending Steele against the bottom ropes. Rep tosses Jake in to the bottom of the corner, and has him lay motionless, resting against the bottom turnbuckle. Rep places his boot on Steele's forehead and begins driving with force, pushing Steele against the turnbuckle, between metal and Rep's boot. Rep then stops the pressure and quickly runs off the ropes, and then hits a big Facewash kick to Steele, knocking him further loopy. Steele rolls on to his stomach as the crowd exploded from the last kick, completely in disgust at the lack of respect one athlete has shown for another. Rep turns his attention back at the crowd. He rips Jake Steele's loose sleeveless t-shirt off of his body, balls it up, and then throws it in to the face of an older woman at ringside cheering for Steele. A man next to the older woman begins shouting at Rep and threatens to jump over the rail. The fan is kept back by security as Rep turns and stomps on Steele again. The crowd is now in unison chanting... STEELE! STEELE! STEELE! STEELE! Rep smiles as he looks around the arena at all of the fans, "the great unwashed" as he refers to them. He grabs Steele by the head and sends him off the ropes again, this time with Rep running off of the parallel ropes. Rep comes back just as Steele reaches the center of the ring, hitting a vicious Discus forearm smash that sends the One Man Revolution to the mat, hard. Eddie Edison: I can't watch this... it's sad to see a former World Heavyweight champion like this. Maxwell McNally: And at the hands of a man like that, no less. The Reprobate's slow assault turns cold, as he rapidly hops over the downed body of Steele, springboards off the ropes, and goes for his finishing Lionsault! However, unfortunately for The Reprobate, Jake Steele got his knees up, and sent them crashing in to the ribs of Reprobate. The crowd explodes at the first glimpse of Steele's answer to oppression. Reprobate stumbles backward, slightly thrown off of his game. Steele rolls on to his front and slowly tries to get to a knee, as Reprobate clutches his ribs in absolute pain. The two lock eyes from opposite sides of the ring, and the first standoff of the match is on, with the crowd on their feet, clapping and cheering. Without missing a beat, Steele explodes out of his corner, and Rep jumps up as well. Steele extends his arm, going for a clothesline, but The Reprobate rolls on to his shoulder, avoiding it. Rep jumps up and spins around to meet his foe, who gets a punch to the head from Rep. Rep tosses Steele off the ropes again, now going for a second Discus forearm smash, this time without running. However, Steele ducks the forearm, stops running, and then does a spin of his own, sending a bullet-like Whirlwind kick right in to the chest of Reprobate, who crumbles to the mat. Maxwell McNally: He's back! Eddie Edison: It just took a little while for him to shake it off! Maybe those Versace shoes were slowing him down! Maxwell McNally: That shoe sure slowed Rep down, when it was sent right in to his chest! The camera cuts to ringside to reveal Christina Hernandez, The Reprobate's long-time girlfriend and valet, making her ACW return. She was absent when the match began, but now that she's aware of it happening, she decided to join her man at ringside one final time. She looks worried... very worried. Perhaps for the health of Reprobate, and perhaps for his mental health as well. She makes herself useful by grabbing hold of a steel chair as Jake Steele completely ignores her, climbing up to the top rope. As Reprobate is unaware of her presence, she slides the chair in to the ring towards the corner that Steele is standing high over. Steele is now on the top rope, waiting for Rep to get to his feet. He slowly does, and Steele then launches off of the top rope, coming down for a Brooklyn Heights top rope clothesline, however... Rep dodges the clothesline, once again rolling his body, in towards the same corner that Steele dove off of. Rep, always one to make use of his surroundings, picks up the chair that Christina just slid in to the ring, and then tosses it right in to the face of Steele, who was just getting up to try and hit a rebound move to make up for his failed clothesline. The chair, which landed square on the forehead of Steele, rests around his neck, partly opened. Maxwell McNally: My goodness! That chair exploded right in to Steele's face! Eddie Edison: That Christina at ringside is always a factor, it's unfortunate that Steele overlooked her. He had better be leery of her for the remainder of this match if he wants to walk out alive! Reprobate, on his knees, begins laughing. His stamina partly drained, he begins catching his breath as the crowd boos his underhanded tactic... however, this is a no disqualifications match, and in a world where anarchy rules, there are no rules. Rep slowly gets up to his feet and snatches the chair off of around Steele's neck, dropping it to the mat. He kicks the chair to the side and then pushes Steele against the ropes once more. As the camera catches a close glimpse of Steele, it reveals some blood pouring from his forehead, following the stiff chair shot. Rep tosses Steele off, but Steele somehow finds the wherewithal to reverse the whip and send Rep running. As Rep comes back, Steele has already run off the other ropes, and Rep meets Steele's boot with the Bigger boot! Rep collapses to the mat as the crowd jump to their feet. The crowd are cheering, all in unison, as Steele grabs the legs of Rep and pulls him towards the center of the ring... before finally locking on the Brooklyn crab!Maxwell McNally: The Reprobate is in grave danger if he doesn't tap! Steele could possibly snap a ligament! Eddie Edison: The only way to save your body is to either tap out or find a way to break the hold! The Reprobate shouts out as the camera zooms in on his face, his arms reaching wildly for the ropes. The crowd is going nuts at the thought of seeing The Reprobate submit, but he refuses to tap. He continues reaching, but it's very clear to everyone watching that he isn't going to be getting the ropes any time soon. Steele intensifies the hold, which has Rep shouting even louder. Just as Rep's hand raises, seemingly to tap out, Steele is knocked to the mat by the force of Baron Trotter and Stan Vishis.
|
|
|
Post by BK London on Jan 3, 2011 18:35:45 GMT -5
Eddie Edison: Trotter and Vishis! What the hell are Rep's goons doing here!? Maxwell McNally: Well, this is somewhat of a reunion show, and Trotter and Vishis ARE ACW alums! I just wish they'd be their own men for once and not save Rep whenever he calls for them! As the monstrous Trotter and the wild mini-hype man Vishis throw an assault on to the downed former World Heavyweight champion, the crowd breaks out in to hysterics of anger. Trotter grabs Steele and holds him up against the ropes, landing punches to his head and chest. Vishis runs over to the other side of the ring as Trotter whips Steele off the ropes. As Steele comes back, Trotter picks Steele up in to a flapjack, holding him up in to the air for Vishis to jump up and connect his high angle DDT! Eddie Edison: DAMN! That's the "D Double" Drug Disruptor, their double team Flapjack DDT! Maxwell McNally: Jake Steele might be in big trouble, and it's all at the hands of Rep's goons! Reprobate slowly begins crawling over to the downed Steele, and throws a shoulder over him. Stan Vishis and Baron Trotter begin waltzing around the ring, as if they own the place. The camera cuts to Christina at ringside, her hands in a prayer position, hoping that her team doesn't screw this one up. The referee begins his count... ONE! TWO! NO!!!Just at the last second, Steele was able to kick right out! Just as quickly as it began, the party nearly comes to an end. The camera zooms out as Davey Dickinson and John Blaze, two of Jake Steele's former stablemates, slide in to the ring to meet Trotter and Vishis. The Reprobate quickly rolls out of the ring to avoid contact. The two teams stare off from opposite sides of the ring, with Vishis being the first to run over at them. The team shoves Vishis down, but gets beaten fairly quickly as the mammoth Trotter runs over and big boots Dickinson, while grabbing Blaze by the throat. Trotter picks Blaze up in to the air as the crowd looks on in shock. He carries the one-time Steele lackey to the side of the ring and tosses him to the outside, sending the poor kid crashing right through the timekeeper's table. Eddie Edison: DDAANNGGEERROOUUSS!!!!!!!!!The crowd goes absolutely insane, ignoring cheering and booing, for what they have just seen goes far beyond emotion. A 200 pound man has just been thrown from an 8 foot elevation, over 10 feet in to the air, and landed right through a table that housed a large ring bell, bell hammer, and several monitors, which came crashing down on top of him. Everyone in the ring (who is currently conscious) stares out in shock, as Trotter shouts, hyping himself up. However, Trotter is completely unaware of the fact that Jake Steele is now up and on his feet. Steele spins Trotter around and lifts him in to the air for his Boomerang Olympic slam. The crowd is shocked at how Steele was able to lift a near 400 pounder in to the air and drop him down. Trotter rolls out of the ring as Stan Vishis hops up, raring to attack. Albeit, with an elbow strike... from behind, as Steele was busy staring at Trotter, in just as much disbelief as anyone else. Vishis, after having knocked down the former champion, grabs hold of the ropes for leverage and begins stomping on The Reele Deele. "YEAH! How does that feel!? You wanna laugh about Stan Vishis!? I'm Death Defying, bitch!" [/i][/color][/center] Maxwell McNally: Is that what this is about!? Vishis is out here, tampering with this match, simply because he's upset that Steele mocked him earlier? Eddie Edison: You can't blame Stan Vishis! He's the Scrappy Doo of professional wrestling! As Stan Vishis stands in the center of the ring with lifeless bodies surrounding him, (he may even be under the incorrect assumption that they were all his doing!) he begins shouting and daring anyone in the back to come out and challenge him. He gets his wish, and from behind, Jake Steele's other old stablemate Pride slides in to the ring. Maxwell McNally: ...Stan Vishis is going to die. Pride waits, like a beast hunting its prey, as Stan Vishis talks trash to anyone and everyone. He then turns around to give the other side of the crowd a piece of his mind, but instead he nearly leaves a piece of it all over the mat. Without a moment's notice, Pride swung his leg and connected with writhing kick to the left leg of Stan, dropping it to a knee. Pride follows up by kicking the right leg, leaving Stan on both knees. He follows up with a kick right to the temple of Stan, the smacking sound echoing through the arena. Stan falls flat on his face, and the foreigner looks around at the crowd, not being used to having people cheer for him. He smiles and nods his head quickly, and then bows to Jake Steele, who is laying in the corner. Pride then slides out of the ring, as nearly all of the "special teams" have been cleared from the area. Steele uses the ropes to pull himself up on to his feet, the blood is pouring from his forehead and had stained his jeans. He touches his forehead a few times to get a grasp on how badly he's bleeding. Meanwhile, The Reprobate has been on the outside, watching like a hawk, with a Singapore cane in hand. Rep strikes, sliding in to the ring, and swinging the cane wildly. However Steele amazingly reversed it, ducking the cane and grabbing hold of Rep's arm. Steele takes Rep down to the mat and locks on his Three-38 crossface! Maxwell McNally: The Three-38! The Reprobate has been caught! Eddie Edison: He swung for the fences but Steele was too smart! This is Steele's second attempt at a submission, and this time there's nobody to save Rep, aside from Christina, but she knows better than to step in to the ring with Steele! The Reprobate is caught like a bug in a spider's web, and he's got no where to go. He reaches for the ropes valiantly, as Steele's face shows his own pain, the blood pouring down his face and getting on to the back of Rep's shirt. The crowd is chanting... TAP! TAP! TAP! TAP! TAP! TAP! TAP! TAP!The Reprobate gets closer and closer to giving up, but this is his swan-song. This is his career's climax. He can't give up. He simply cannot tap out to Jake Steele. Rep attempts to swing his arms around in order to roll over towards the ropes. Swing one, Steele tries to fight it. Swing two, Steele's body has been moved, so there may be hope... swing three. Rep is able to swing the hold completely around, and the crowd begins booing.... but they go right back to cheering as Steele somehow manages to roll right back around and lock on a Rear naked choke! Maxwell McNally: He thought he was freed! Rep thought he was going to break the hold! Eddie Edison: And now he might have just drained all energy from his body with that last second escape attempt! As the hold chokes the life from The Reprobate, the referee begins to get a bit concerned. The ref drops to a knee at the base of the hold and takes hold of Rep's arm. He drops it once... ONE!Rep's hand hits the mat once, and should it fall twice more, he will have lost by TKO. TWO!A second time, it falls. Once more, and Rep will have lost the match... THR-At the last second, of course, his hand comes to life, and begins shaking as it starts swinging backward and pounding Steele in the head. The punching do nothing but worsen Steele's already aching head, and he is forced to let go of the hold, as he simply cannot maintain it for much longer without popping a vein in the forehead. Steele grabs his head in pain, as the blood continues to pour from his skull. He backs away from Rep, in to his own corner... and at his side, he feels the steel chair from earlier, that flew in to his head, causing the bleeding. Steele grabs hold of the chair. He hugs it... almost as if it were a newborn. The Reprobate is now on all fours, unaware of the chair making its grandiose return. Steele has a look of hate on his face... a look of which only one can imagine was the same look on the face of OJ Simpson before he slaughtered his wife and her boyfriend. A look of hatred, that can only be assumed to have been the same look that Michael Vick had before watching his first dog fight. A look of extremity. Steele raises the chair... and brings it crashing down on to the back of Reprobate. The loud clapping noise echoes through the crowd, who gasp. Steele drops the chair. All he needed was one. As Rep grabs the back in pain, Steele is unaffected by his actions. He grabs Rep by the hair and hits a few punches, all of which reel Rep close to passing out. With the chair at his feet, Steele grabs hold of Rep's neck and pulls him upward, before dropping him right back down with a quick Broken Legacy swinging neckbreaker, landing Rep's forehead right on to the steel chair on the mat. Maxwell McNally: Oh my lord... Eddie Edison: Something frightening is going on in the mind of Jake Steele... The camera shows the look of carelessness of Steele's face, as he looks up at the crowd, who are all cheering him on. The camera slowly moves downward to reveal The Reprobate at his feet, laying on his back, with blood sprouting from his forehead. Steele's callous behavior intensifies as he reaches downward and wipes some blood from Rep's head with his fingers. Steele then touched his own chest with the same fingers. At first, the crowd is confused... until it becomes very obvious that Steele is writing the word DIE with Rep's blood... on his own chest. With the war paint drying, Steele stares down at his opponent, and then points towards a turnbuckle. The crowd begins cheering as he stands there, motionless. He begins walking over to the turnbuckle, and with each step, as he gets closer to the top, he hears the crowd getting louder and louder. He finally gets to the top, and kneels, hunched on the top. He slowly rises. His eyes on the target, the word "die" on his chest, and a cold demeanor, Steele dives, and performs a picture perfect Exploding Glory shooting star press. Unfortunately for Steele, it wasn't as perfect as he had hoped. Eddie Edison: He rolled out of the way! Good god, The Reprobate surely dodged that bullet! Maxwell McNally: ...Jake Steele nearly landed on his neck... In one motion, the heartless killer lands on the back of his neck, following The Reprobate somehow, some way, rolling out of harm's way. Still groggy, still confused... but still with the mission on his mind, Rep jumps up to his feet and grabs hold of Steele's head. He picks Steele up and pulls him over to the chair on the mat. He hoists Steele up quickly, and in one motion, slams him back down with the Spinning Wheel, his version of the "Alabama slam." Steele's back and neck smash against the steel chair, and with one move, Steele's life may be in serious danger. Reprobate drops to his knees and looks up, and then turns his attention back to the match, covering his most hated rival. ONE! TWO!! THREE!!!
NO!!!!Eddie Edison: I am in disbelief! Jake Steele kicked out of THAT!? Maxwell McNally: Jake Steele just showed the whole world why he will forever be one of the greatest ever. He just landed on his neck twice, and still isn't giving up! Reprobate, very fed up with everyone at this point, begins showing his frustration. He shouts at the referee, grabs the blood stained steel chair, and tosses it out in to the crowd in a fit of rage. The blood pouring from his head, he grabs one of Steele's legs and locks on his Figure 4 leg lock! As both men bleed buckets, their blood staining the mat, Rep begins shaking his head because he feels the match is back in his favor. Steele tries to swing his arms to escape, but it's no use, and the pain coming from his neck is too much to deal with. After long, Rep begins toying with Steele, reaching in and slapping him occasionally while the hold is still applied. Before long, Steele becomes fed up with the slaps, and even begins hitting some strikes of his own. As both men sit, their blood pouring out of their heads, engaged in a war of punches... all the while, in a deadly leg lock, the crowd is on their feet clapping and stomping once more. As it intensifies, Steele begins to get the better of the punches, and the Steele chants are off the charts.... STEELE! STEELE! STEELE! STEELE!
|
|
|
Post by BK London on Jan 3, 2011 18:36:51 GMT -5
As Steele rocks Rep with rights and lefts, the hold weakens, to the point where Steele finally breaks the hold with one thrust of his leg, and then gets up to his feet, grabbing Rep by the arm. He hoists Rep up, going for another Boomerang Olympic slam. However, Rep somehow landed on his feet, directly behind Steele. Rep spins Steele around, and places him in the position for his version of the Cradle piledriver, what he calls a Knife Edge piledriver! Rep has Steele upside down, and he locks his arms around Steele's body... BAM! Steele's head hits the mat, hard. Rep turns on all fours, breathing heavily, his stamina dilapidated. In a strange display, however, Rep hops up and springboards off the ropes, yet again going for his Lionsault! He nails it, and Steele looks to be finished! Rep hooks the leg...
ONE! TWO!! THREE!!!
NO!!!!
Maxwell McNally: This is absolutely unbelievable!
Eddie Edison: These two men want this match so badly... and it's not about money. It's not about titles... it's not even about hatred. This is all based purely on bragging rights. These athletes have a hatred based on friendship, and a friendship based on hatred.
With Rep completely fed up, to the point of tears, he begins violently stomping on Steele, and grabs him by the head again. He shoots Steele off the ropes and on the way back, nails him with his deadly Lariat! Had Steele taken any additional bumps to the head, the move might have taken it right off his shoulders.
At this point, Rep has a sadistic smile on his face, the blood now on his lips. He might even be bleeding from the mouth, from some of the punches Steele landed while in the Figure 4. Rep drops to his knees again, and this time, he's sure that he's got Steele down for the three.
ONE! TWO!! THREE!!!
The crowd breaks out in to hysterics as Reprobate gets up to his feet, a smile on his face. He begins swinging his arms in celebration as the crowd boos loudly.
The camera cuts to Christina, who has a less than pleased look on her face. The camera cuts back to Rep, as the referee whispers in his ear, the smile turns to shock, and then the camera cuts right over to Steele, laying motionless... with his hand clutching the bottom rope.
Maxwell McNally: Jake Steele didn't have it in him to kick out, but he sure as hell had it in him to grab that rope and cause a rope break!
Eddie Edison: Brilliant!
Rep has finally had enough, and now that standard wrestling moves aren't getting him the win, he figures he might as well try murder. Rep grabs hold of Steele, drags him to the middle of the ring, and locks on his lethal Half nelson sleeper. Before it can be properly locked on, however, Steele swings his arms around, throwing Rep off of his game. Steele is able to swing Rep around, grab hold of his jaw, and drive them right in to his knees with his Lion's Roar codebreaker variation. Rep goes down, and is obviously drowzy once and for all. Steele grabs his head, feeling the most pain he's ever felt, and grabs the bottom rope.
The look on his face is nearly that of a flashback, and it becomes clear that he somehow now knows exactly what he has to do to win this match. Steele rolls out on to the apron, and pulls himself up with help from the ropes. As he stands on the apron on the outside, he waits for Rep to get up... no. He waits for him to simply be vertical enough to pull this move off. After waiting about 15 seconds, Rep is on his knees, looking over and wondering what the hell Steele is doing. He finds out very quickly.
Steele springboards backwards, spins in mid air, grabs hold of Rep's head, and drops it right back on to the mat with the patented, super rare S-Revolution 720 DDT. Reprobate is out cold, down for the count, and finished... but Steele isn't through yet. Steele aimlessly wanders over in to the corner and lowers himself, his eyes glazed over. He watches as Rep squirms wildly, almost as if he were a lifeless puppet being handled by Michael J. Fox. Steele stairs at what he has caused, and begins stomping his foot. The crowd joins along with him by banging on anything near them. As the stomping/banging reaches it's fastest, Rep has finally reached all fours... and it is there that Steele strikes.
He emerges from the corner, his knee goes up. Driving right through the skull of Rep, almost like a bullet through an apple. Almost. Steele looks around. He doesn't know where he is. He doesn't know what he's done. He falls on top of Rep.
one.
two.
three.
As the crowd jump to their feet in excitement, Jake Steele lays motionless on top of Rep. It's not a standard pinning position, their heads are nearly on top of each other. Steele's mouth moves, but we can't hear what he's saying. He places his hand on the right side of Rep's chest, his torn shirt covering it. Steele then backs off of Rep and sits in the ring, mere inches away from a man who he was just involved in a bitter war with. Many of the things they've done to each other would be illegal in many states, but in this match, it's just a cause for celebration that it's over.
Rep finally shows a movement by rolling on to his front. His head rests against the mat, as Steele is now lowered down to resting on his elbow. The two men haven't looked at each other since before the 720 DDT. Everything following that was ironically host to the most sadistic, deadly and horrific memories. As Steele finally looks over to Rep, and Rep finally wakes up enough to look over at Steele, the two look at each other, as if to wonder if this war is going to continue.
Although a beaten man, Rep will never allow his pride to take a hit as a result of being pinned. Although the winner, Steele will never allow his pride to lead to arrogance as a result of pinning Rep. Rep slowly begins crawling over to Steele, and Steele responds by getting on to his knees. The two meet, resting low about a foot away from each other. What could happen? A punch? A slap? A chop? Spit? No...
A handshake.
With his hand extended, The Reprobate looks in to the eyes of Steele, not as a beaten man, but as someone who hung in there with one of the best wrestlers ever. As a man who has never won a World Heavyweight title, and as a man who has never main evented a "sports entertainment" company, this independent wrestler matched, shot for shot, one of the all time greats. He isn't looking for pity, and he isn't looking to save himself from embarrassment. He's looking for this war to finally be over.
Despite what you might think, this act doesn't shock Jake Steele. The only way to feel what Jake Steele is feeling, would be to go through this war yourself. Live with this Reprobate, lurking in the shadows of your life, waiting to strike. Live through the pain they've caused each other during this match. Jake Steele isn't looking to get the monkey off his back, and he isn't looking to save himself from further attacks. He's looking to call a truce.
As their hands make contact, the crowd begins wildly cheering both men on. Unbelievably, they somehow get to their feet. The first few seconds are rough, but with the aid of the ropes, they somehow find balance... all the while, never unlocking the handshake. The crowd then quiets down in confusion as The Reprobate says something to Steele, and although they can't hear what he's saying, they can assume it's positive. Rep points to the blood pouring from both of their heads and then points to the crowd, who continue to stay quiet... that all changes when the handshake rises high in to the air, as The Reprobate raises Jake Steele's arm as the victor. The crowd explodes, standing on their feet, cheering on two men who just destroyed each other.
And now maybe they can go back to New York. Now, maybe they can both forget about the past three years. Now, maybe they can spend their retirement together, as friends. Maybe they can forget the wins. Forget the losses. Forget the attacks. Forget the bad times. Forget the good times. Forget ACW.
But they won't.
|
|
|
Post by BK London on Jan 3, 2011 18:37:45 GMT -5
Segment: One Final Word From Our Sponsors (Credit: BK London) We just had a huge back and forth match between Jake Steele & The Reprobate, an impromptu match we would've never thought we'd see in ACW nor think it would be that good. But we were easily surprised with the efforts of both men.
As we fade to the back, we head back to the doctor's office - where there appears to be some loud screaming, something like a horror scene. It's Kevin Anderson who's on the scene, and he takes it upon himself to enter to see what exactly's going on behind that huge door.
Inside, London's on the medical bed - screaming, which we can only infer is due to the pain he suffered in his gory & hellacious match with Fallen Souls no more than 30 minutes ago. The sink is filled with a smelly vomit like fluid, and the garbage is even worse - filled with tons of bloody cotton swabs & cloths.BK London: ARRRRRGH! Fuck! Doctor: We have to finish cleaning these open wounds with alcohol before we tape you up Mr. London. Do you WANT to lose a limb? BK London: It burns like shit! Doctor: Oh come on! Suck it up. Are you a 26 year old man or a 8 year old boy?! BK London: ...you know if I were in any condition to, I'd kick you in the face... Doctor: ...yeah yeah yeah, that's what they all say. Kevin Anderson: BK, I was just wondering if we could get a short interview with you? BK London: You know what? Since it's the last show, instead of causing you bodily harm - I'm going to actually take this offer. Doc, can you give me 5? Doctor: Sure, that'll give me more time to get more alcohol - you big baby... London cringes a bit at the thought of more burning sensations in the next few minutes, but he manages to pull himself up - still with blood trickling off his forehead and tons of open woulds on his back. The doctor has only been able to tape up the front side of his ribs, so he's quite ginger in getting up - but eventually he does.Kevin Anderson: Well BK, from what you've just gone through - it's evident you've been in a war, how do you feel about that being your last match in ACW? BK London: Well I'm not too thrilled about losing, especially against that tiny asian emo kid Fallen Souls - but there's not much I can do about it. As far as that being my last match, well - we've got tons of people booing me out there, and we've got more people in the back rooting against me - but you know what? I proved once again why I belong in the Hall of Fame. I proved why I belong in the Upper Echelon of ACW. Despite what everyone claims of how BK London is corrupt, egotistical and self absorbed - I pulled out one hell of a match out there an entertained that crowd and that's more than I can say for some people. For years, I have been portrayed as the bad guy - as the guy who doesn't want to see anyone as successful as he is. But in the end, everything comes back to you. I put in hours and hours of honing my craft and for that I was awarded by becoming the most successful man in ACW history. My blood is spilled on the canvas, that canvas where I have perfected my art - and what Fallen Souls and I created out there was a gripping masterpiece. It wasn't pretty by any means, but we delivered. And for that, I am proud of having that closing things out in my career. Kevin Anderson: Wow, did you actually use a metaphor? Did BK London ACTUALLY take the non-direct approach? BK London: Trust me, I'm just as surprised as you! It must be my growth. I entered ACW when I was 20 years old, and now I'm 26 - almost 27. I've matured, and honestly - I look at the things I've said and done in the past, and I laugh. I wonder how at 20 years I could've became a World Champion, especially with the mindstate I was in... Doctor: Alright Mr. London, we've got to hurry up and clean these up before they get any more infected... BK London: Well Mr. Anderson, this is it...you know - you weren't half bad... Kevin Anderson: Really man? BK London: Nah, you're horrible - but you try, and that's all that counts. Now get out of my sight. Kevin Anderson: The main event is coming up, stay tuned...
|
|
|
Post by BK London on Jan 3, 2011 18:38:23 GMT -5
Segment: The End of Fallen Souls (Credit: FSX)
Moments earlier this evening, something deprived, Horrific, Painful, and Career Ending happened. Though that had nothing to do with the blood bath that Fallen Souls experienced against BK London. Even if it was a match that ended in three minutes against Libertines it would of been all of those things. Because with every book, there is a beginning. And with every book, there is an ending. There is a finale. A closing chapter, and maybe an epilogue. This segment represents that. I could do something zany. I could be whimsical, creative, and fantastic...but let's face it. Only five people read those segments, and three of them aren't even around. In fact, there's no guarantee that anyone will even read what I am writing right now. But I'm comfortable with that. I've come to terms that my style isn't what everyone likes. I understand a lot of people have had problems with it. But, regardless, this is where it ends. Begin.
Fallen Souls: Ten years. I've been doing this for ten years. Since 2001, FSX has existed in one form or another. With one company or another. It all began with a little operation called 'Hardcore Insanity'. In actuality, it operated very similar to ACW before ACW even existed. I imagine some people would be surprised to hear that, but it still wasn't the same. It was a bunch of children slamming chairs and crowbars into each others faces. It was entertaining, but it wasn't creative. It was dull. It wasn't anything to be proud of.
After a few years of that, I discovered ACW. It proceeded to consume my life for several years, and never allow me to escape it's grasp. It was like an addiction. Despite the fact at several points throughout my tenure I was sure I was being screwed over, and positive that I wasn't respected whatsoever by a large majority of the roster...I needed more. I needed to keep helping these people. To book shows. To help feuds. To make sure that people enjoyed the experience, and to make something of myself. To maybe earn that respect I desired so badly. To reach the top of the figurative mountain. I guess it's questionable if I ever really helped anyone, or ever really made an impact. A difference. But in my mind I believe I did..maybe it's just me.
If you're reading this chances are you know who I am in some way. I thank you for taking the time, lord knows I took enough time with ACW. Took enough of my life commiting it to stuff like this. But I regret nothing. In the end, it was a lot of fun. But that's the key word. End. Everything has an ending, including my career with ACW. Fallen Souls has existed longer then most of you, with very few exceptions. But it's done. If I've worked with you at any point you've made a difference, so I won't offend people by not mentioning them in this segment. Seriously, if I started a list of people that mattered to my existence as FSX I'd forget someone and this would just be a piss off...but I do feel the need to mention one person.
Thunderkiss. I'm not sure if you've subtley taken the time to take part in this show, but I do hope you're life is fulfilling. You've removed yourself from an online existence, I'm sure you have your reasons. But you deserve a place on this show. Even if it's just this small mention. All the best.
Now I feel the need to start naming names. Ugh. Okay, I'm going to try. Please don't be offended if I forget you.
Kudo, wish you could of participated. Believe you were busy.
Taylor, you did make a difference in my existence to ACW. I don't think I would of kept going during those months if you weren't nagging and complaining. You're annoying, but you're still a proper cool guy that no one will recognize as such.
Sennie, Hunter, you were the Senatorial Stable to me. Will Anger stopped existing so damn fast, but we made it work. We were the three that kept making it work. I wish I could of kept working with both of you...and Hunter, you still owe me at least twice. You ever get famous I'm cashing in.
BK, there were times I hated you with a passion and people pushed and demanded I keep hating you with a passion. I do not, and I look back at those times and laugh. I agreed to our match, and I know it wasn't exactly what you wanted..but I'm happy with it. Final match after 10 years, you got my respect.
Chef Train, Hey. Yup, I feel that's appropriate for some reason.
XS3, You're the only person that deserved the X monikier aside from me. I regret not just giving it to you at some point.
Others, I suck with memories. You know who you are. If you were in a stable with me, talked to me, got to know me whatsoever..then I respect you all. Good people, each and every one of you.
So..anyway. This is long-winded, and it's being sent in late. Because I'm classy like that. I'll wrap it up now. Goodbye ACW, Goodbye FSX. It's been a great run.
10 years.
200+ matches.
15 stables...at least. Eesh.
Good times.
Fin.
|
|
|
Post by BK London on Jan 3, 2011 18:38:59 GMT -5
OOC Word (By: Dalton)
I didn't think this day would ever come. Right now, as I type this up, my eyes fill with tears.
Everyone who has ever been in this federation has been family to me, and I know I will keep in touch with as many of you as I can. But, I know that in that, there are many of you I will more than likely never talk to again. That thought alone makes me sadder than Ive been in months, and I will miss each and every one of you.
I've said it before that I feel like I put more emotion into ACW that I ever should have. But, you have been here since before I turned 16. This place has been the one consistent thing I could turn to for support in anything. From my parents divorce, to my girl troubles, to anything. You helped me survive High School, and I will never forget any of you.
Thank you all so much.
A tearfilled goodbye,
Dalton
|
|
|
Post by BK London on Jan 3, 2011 18:39:10 GMT -5
Segment: Final Touch (Credit: Dan White)
We return from a break to hear "Anarchy in the UK". He's not wrestling tonight, but the crowd are excited to see what Dan has to say on this final ACW show.
Dan White: Well then lads, here it is. The end of an era. The final final ACW show.
He pauses, smiling to himself as memories of the past 6 and a half years come flooding back.
Dan White: It's been a rollercoaster, I'll give you that. We've all had our ups, and our downs. Some of us more than others. And thankfully I was able to have more ups than downs. I mean there was the World Title win in the cell, the International Title win...in the cell, the tag team titles win when I became the Undisputed Mr. Omega Effect, the Entertainment Title way back in 2004, and of course the Lightweight Title, of which I broke all sorts of records. And they STILL EXIST, JAKE'S RECORD WAS A LIE.
Awkward pause.
Dan White: Ahem, anyways, it's been ace. What is a bit of a shame is that we've been up for 6 and a half years, annd I suppose my active time here stretched about four years tops. I had a lot to offer. And back in the day I suppose you could say that I tried too hard. Instead of enjoying being round a good bunch of people, I wanted to be the best. Everybody wants to be the best, of course, but you have to know your limits and I certainly didn't. So yes, I had my down points. But if there's anyone who epitomises ACW, I dare you to come up with a different name. How many times did I quit to start other projects? Record deals, movie parts, the stock market.
eh?
Dan White: They all came and went, but I always came back to ACW. The nearly man for such a long time, and the one who finally completed the perfect Rocky story and overcame everything to win the big one. And that's ACW. A place where you have an atmosphere like no other.
He pauses briefly, before summing up.
Dan White: Never say never. This is the end of ACW, but who is to say we won't all come back one day down the line for a reunion? I've met great folk here, and I would be very happy to see it happen further and further down the line. It may never happen, but it should always be open for discussion. ACW has been very special to everyone who was ever involved here, and we shouldn't forget it. And that, my friends, is the right....
...
Dan White: ...touch.
He smiles as his music hits again. Is that a tear in his eye? lol Dan doesn't cry. He does, he'll die. And that is why, it's time to say goodbye.
|
|