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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Oct 4, 2009 15:42:31 GMT -5
Jefferson pulls Shadow to his feet and hits a stern elbow to the jaw; possibly recompense for that earlier uppercut. He’s not finished with his revenge, though. He pulls Shadow down to the canvas with a standard arm drag, transitioning into a regular arm lock. Jefferson knows that the move is nowhere near excruciating enough to make Shadow tap, but he maintains the hold, figuring it would be worth wearing it down, handicapping his opponent for the remainder of the match. Shadow realizes the potential danger of possibly facing the remainder of the match with only one useful arm and immediately attempts to force himself to his feet. Jefferson recognizes this and tries to torque the arm, but before he can apply significant pressure, Shadow is on his feet, throwing some restricted left hands into the midsection of his captor.
Jefferson intelligently puts his leg in front of Shadow, using it as a pivot, and brings him back down to the canvas with a neat headlock takedown which he quickly converts into a chinlock.
Fortunately for Shadow, in the hasty circumstances, Jefferson brought Shadow down too close to the ropes and one foot perched on the bottom rope is enough to obligate Jefferson into release the hold. He does so, but not without a cheap shot to the back of the head for which he receives a warning from the referee. He pulls Shadow to his feet and after another right hand, whips him across the ring. Shadow catapults of the ropes at some speed and when he reaches the dead centre of the ring, he finds himself somersaulted into the air at the hands of a practical hip-toss. Jefferson quickly swoops into a second chin-lock, this time holding his opponent much further from the ropes.
Shadow writhes in discomfort and seeks an escape route. The ropes are out of the question and breaking the grip of Jefferson is unlikely. Instead, he opts to force himself to his feet, hoping to release the grip that way.
At first, he leans to his side, like a turtle stuck on its back attempting to turn over. It provides enough momentum for him to sway the opposite side and push himself to his knees with Jefferson still holding on tightly. With a determined push he forces himself to his feet and arrives at the final task of breaking free of Jefferson’s vice. A few well aimed elbows break the hold and Shadow immediately sets out to reclaim the upper-hand by whipping his opponent into the ropes. Jefferson, however, manages to reverse and instead sends Shadow rushing at the trio of flexible barriers. Shadow rebounds and notices Jefferson charging at him with a lariat. Shadow ducks and continues on his run. Jefferson, caught by surprise at Shadow’s quick reflexes, turns to witness Shadow sliding out onto the apron. As he struts toward him, Shadow hops up onto the top rope and launches himself into the ring with a crossbody. He catches Jefferson, but as they hit the canvas, Jefferson manages to roll-through and ends up on top of Shadow. The referee drops and counts 1 – 2 – Oh so close.
McNally: Great counter by Jefferson, bringing a near fall there.
Edison: Shadow needs to learn to stay on top of things!
Jefferson pushes himself to his feet as Shadow slowly follows. Jefferson “helps” him to his feet but only to inflict more damage. He grabs his opponent in a face lock and hooks the leg, seemingly planning a Fisherman’s Suplex – but Dave manages to wriggle free of the facelock and lands some right hands. Jefferson still manages to keep possession of Shadow’s leg, however, and stretches it away from him, trying to keep enough distance away from the stinging right hands. It proves to be detrimental to his cause, however, as Shadow twists his body and hits the woozying Dragon Whip.
Jefferson bounces off the canvas and straight back to his feet, but not exactly tuned-in to the action, he walks straight into the Dropsault, which Shadow hits with finesse. He immediately goes to work on Jefferson, putting in some stomps before pulling him to his feet. He whips him to the corner and slowly follows him, delivering a high back elbow to the face as he meets him. Taking care in his step, Shadow mounts the middle rope and begins to pound downwards on Jefferson, to which the referee again begins to against. He reaches five and orders Shadow to cease. Shadow drops down and backs away into the opposite corner with the referee following him, ticking him off for bending the rules of the contest. Shadow pulls the referee to one side and charges at Jefferson, hitting a high clothesline, knocking him into the turnbuckle.
Wasting no time, he then whips Jefferson to the opposite corner, causing the referee to quickly skip out of the onrushing wrestler’s path. Shadow lines his target up and charges. But as he launches into his high knee, Jefferson grabs the nearby referee and utilizes him as a human shield.
The ACW referee is a feeble creature. Not built to withstand heavy punishment or even a single shot or impact they receive. On this occasion, the referee hits the floor quicker than you can say “ref bump”. The late alteration to the climax of the move still takes something out of Jefferson, but also Shadow as well. They stagger dazedly from the corner for a second before realizing the situation. Both men’s eyes light up as they weigh up the possibilities that the circumstance now affords them. As the referee lays unconscious, the two regain the battle.
McNally: The referee is down, this match could be on the brink of turning ugly.
Edison: You’re right. This could become interesting.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Oct 4, 2009 15:43:44 GMT -5
Almost as if magnetized, the two men close in on each other. Shadow thinks and acts quickest by raising a knee into the midsection of his advancing opponent. Scooping the winded Jefferson up, he promptly slams him down in the centre of the ring. Shadow turns to scope the insentient match official, contemplating his next move.
He pulls Jefferson back to his feet and throws a stiff closed-fist into his face. He forces Jefferson back into the corner and briefly stomps away at his midsection before raising a high foot into the throat of the cornered Jack. Shadow turns his head to face the comatose referee and mocks his count. He finally liberates Jefferson’s neck from his boot and grabs a limp arm before clambering out onto the apron. He pulls Jefferson in close and applies a facelock – seemingly looking to suplex him out onto the cold hard floor outside. Jefferson is having none of that and desperately deadens his weight to prevent the suplex then, breaking the hold, pulls Shadow downwards onto the ropes like a guillotine. Shadow tumbles to the floor outside as Jefferson crumples onto his backside inside the ring.
Shadow grips his lower neck in distress as he crawls on all fours on the solid concrete floor that surrounds the ring. Jefferson, meanwhile, pulls himself to his feet and catches the breath that was extracted in the previous few moments. Shadow finally gets to his feet and in a fog of confusion, turns to face the ring. Jefferson takes one last deep breath and charges towards the ropes on the side that Shadow lurks behind and with unerring accuracy, dives between the ropes and hits the International Champion like a torpedo. Both men crash to the floor in the suicide dive, both spreading eagle on the unforgiving no-man’s land. The chests of both men expand and contract frantically, exhausted from the carnage imparted at each other’s expense in this match.
McNally: Suicide Dive by Jefferson to Shadow outside.
Edison: That wasn’t suicide, that was kamikaze!
Both men steadily push themselves to their feet in the walkway leading to the ring. Shadow somehow manages to throw the first right hand and it knocks Jefferson back slightly. Shadow closes in and takes a firm grasp of his opponent’s head and forces it down onto the nearby barrier with considerable vigour – Jefferson’s head bounces off the steel like a beach ball. Drawing more energy from within, Shadow heaves Jefferson upwards then drops him, sternum first onto the barrier. Jefferson reels back, remaining on his feet but staggers into the reach of Shadow again. Shadow wraps himself around Jefferson and pauses, knowing that his next move is not going to be painless. However, he lets the adrenaline take over and hits a back breaking Russian Leg Sweep onto the rigid floor. Jefferson holds the back of his head in pain and coils up in the foetal position as Shadow winces, turning onto his side, holding his lower back in self-inflicted agony.
McNally: The Leg Sweep taking some out of Dave Shadow there, too.
Edison: I always knew the Irish liked a good knees up.
They stay down for a considerable amount of time. If the referee had been conscious, there was a strong possibility that he would have counted both men out. He wasn’t and so he didn’t, so fortunately, this match was allowed to continue. Shadow, still caressing his back, gets to his feet first and pulls Jefferson up with him. He grabs him by the head and leads him back towards the ring, unwilling to continue this battle on the merciless concrete. As they reach the apron, though, Jefferson comes round and delivers an elbow to Shadow’s ribs, releasing his grip then Jefferson forces Shadow’s forehead downwards into the apron. Jefferson pushes Shadow back into the ring underneath the bottom rope then takes a moment to massage his aching head. He slowly hoists himself up onto the apron, but Shadow had recovered in the time Jefferson had taken to recover and is able to pull out a dropkick, sending Jefferson sprawling to the outside once again.
Shadow uses the moment to catch his breath this time, arching his stinging back to allay the throbbing. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Jefferson stirring. With stern strides, Shadow struts towards the ropes and just as Jefferson becomes vertical, Shadow launches himself over the top rope and comes down on top of Jack before scissoring his legs around his head and bringing him down with a spectacular hurricanrana. Both men, typically, find themselves back outside the ring once more.
The crowd are becoming quite rapturous at this point, sensing the building of an epic encounter to mark the end of the Emperor of the Ring. The referee remains motionless on the canvas and both competitors are in a similar state externally. The first to stir is, once again, Dave Shadow, demonstrating his real hunger for victory. He pushes himself to his feet away from Jefferson, keeping his distance as he intends to recuperate from his battle wounds sustained thus far. Jefferson, on the other hand, utilizes the handy nearby barrier to winch himself back to his feet. A few rowdy fans in the front row slap his shoulder and shout a fusion of encouragement and abuse. They are distracting, and as Jefferson turns, still leaning on the barrier, he sees Shadow racing towards him with an arm outstretched. Inevitably, Jefferson and Shadow hurdle the barrier and end up at the feet of the front rowers, who cheer moronically at the chaos being spilled at their feet.
McNally: Both men into the crowd with that clothesline.
Edison: Hey! Do they have a ticket?
Shadow pushes himself back up again and drags a crawling Jefferson through the crowd, distributing the occassional kick or right hand to subdue him. A conveniently located drinks machine provides good destruction fodder for Shadow as he hurls a struggling Jefferson straight into the device, sending soft foam cups crashing out and littering the floor around them. Shadow pulls Jefferson back up and leads him further into the sea of fans. The cameraman struggles to keep up as they wade through the hectic scene. Some fans are fixed on the action, some can’t resist shoving their fat ugly faces in the way of the camera. Never-the-less, the mayhem continues as Shadow lugs Jefferson deeper into the crowd. An empty seat, recently evacuated by a terrified young woman, is a tempting target for Shadow to practice head darts. He bounces Jefferson’s onto the cold seat of the chair before kicking the now useless chair out of his path. He pulls Jefferson further and tows him towards the front of the crowd, some of whom lean against the barrier to avoid losing balance.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Oct 4, 2009 15:44:14 GMT -5
As they emerge at the shore of the audience, they find themselves near the announcer’s tables, occupied by a now nervous Maxwell McNally and Eddy Edison. Shadow hurls Jefferson over the barrier and seizes a chair belonging to a miffed fan in an outdated Thunderkiss t-shirt. The erected chair refuses to fold back up so Shadow just positions it on the opposite side of the barrier, ready for later use. He begins to straddle the barrier to rejoin ringside, but Jefferson is up on his feet. He rushes at Shadow and uses the chair as a platform to hit the Shining Wizard to a surprised Dave Shadow, who takes the kick full force in his face before landing on the inside of the barrier, shoulder-first.
It is Jefferson’s turn to control the flow of this skirmish now and he immediately dishes out his revenge by grabbing Shadow’s head and smacking it against the chair sat obediently at ringside. Jefferson then grabs the chair and attempts to fold it up, but he has no luck with it either, so he discards that and instead pilfers the one belonging to Edison.
McNally: Jefferson getting up close and personal, here.
Edison: Somebody call The Senator; I’ve just lost my seat!
This chair folds up much easier, but in the time it took in faffing about with the furniture, Shadow had recovered and he hit an anxious kick to the midsection of the on-rushing Jefferson, who was about to level him with the weapon. Jefferson was forced to relinquish his grip on the object, but not on his advantage as he reversed Shadow’s attempt to whip him into the steel corner post, instead sending Dave colliding into it with his shoulder. Jefferson retrieved the chair and set a target for Shadow’s head. The Irishman had the presence of mind to duck the chair shot, which cracked loudly against the exposed steel, but he wasn’t fortunate enough to duck a second shot, this time directly onto the top of his cranium, sending him falling back onto the hard ground. A huge Dave Shadow shaped dent had formed in the chair as Jefferson inspected it. He threw the chair into the ring then pulled Shadow to his feet before relocating him back into the ring as well. As Shadow laid immobile in the ring, with the equally static referee nearby, Jefferson rummaged beneath the ring apron. He spent a few seconds underneath, searching for something and when he emerged, nobody was surprised with what he revealed: it was Chloe, his trusty crowbar.
McNally: …and he’s got…what’s that, is that…oh boy, this could get really bad for Shadow.
Edison: Do you think he has some boxes to open?
McNally: If he uses that, the only box we’ll be opening, we’ll be putting Shadow inside.
Jefferson slid back into the ring, re-energized by the benficial position he found himself in. Chloe + snoozing referee = bad news for his opponent. Exhibiting patience, he waited as Shadow slowly got to his feet. Jefferson gave Chloe an affectionate kiss before making his move. As Shadow turned, he received a gut full of crowbar, sending him doubling over. He felt sick. A second shot, hard to the already injured shoulder, sent a cold numbess coursing through his body. Jefferson smirked malevolently.
Jefferson drop to his knees and wrapped the crowbar around the neck of the smarting Shadow, beginning to choke the life out of him. Jefferson shot a quick glance at the dozing referee, not wanting to get caught in this situation. Shadow tried to resist, but his weakened shoulder prevented him from using full force to oppose the strangling metal. He reached for thin air, in hope of salvation, but a knee dug sharply into his back made it even more excruciating.
Eventually, Jefferson let go, knowing that choking Shadow would accomplish nothing at this point with the referee away with the fairies. Instead, he planned on taking Shadow out of commission for the rest of this match. He grasped the chair that he had thrown into the ring and placed it neatly in the centre of the ring. He then dragged Shadow and positioned his head on top of the chair like a pillow. He backed off, polished Chloe using his tights and pulled back. As the crowbar plummeted towards his face, Shadow rejected the life flashing before his eyes and quickly dodged the sickening strike of metal on metal. The impact sent a shockwave through the arms of Jefferson, causing him to drop his weapon. Shadow pounced to his feet and rushed the stunned Jefferson – Blink! Shadow hit the Blink in the middle of the ring, landing Jefferson dead on the metal combination of crowbar and chair. Both men were laid out in the impact and the ring was quickly becoming littered with bodies.
McNally: Blink! Blink! Dave Shadow hits the Blink onto the crowbar and the steel chair! It’s absolute carnage in the ring!
Edison: That gives a whole new meaning to being exposed to the elements!
Both men stay prone for a long time and it is no surprise that the first to stir is Dave Shadow. He dully pushes himself to his hands and knees and surveys the scene. Jefferson is out cold. Shadow takes the opportunity to exit the ring and do a bit of collecting himself. He fumbles underneath the apron before digging out a standard wrestling table. Mustering what little energy he has left, he slides it into the ring.
He joins the table and the two lifeless bodies in the ring and begins to set up the table. Jefferson, however, begins to stir so the positioning of the erected table is pushed down in Shadow’s priority list. He puts some boots into the ribs of Jefferson before pulling him straight to his feet. He hits a few right hands to the temple before laying him out on the table, which is positioned diagonal to the corner. This prompts Shadow to stagger over to the turnbuckle and slowly ascend to the top. He’s not quite sure what he’s going to do when he gets there, but it transpires to be irrelevant as Jefferson rolls off the table and puts a stop to Shadow’s climb with a right hand to the chest.
Jefferson begins to climb up, looking to join Shadow up top. A right hand from Shadow is only mirrored by on from Jefferson. Both men eventually find themselves perched precariously on the top rope. Jefferson recognizes the best chance he’ll ever be presented with and quickly scoops Shadow up, managing to adroitly maintain his balance before launching himself backwards. Both men crash through the table with Jefferson hitting his patented Fallaway Moonsault. Everybody in the arena rises to their feet in amazement.
McNally: ! Fallaway Moonsault through the table. Dave Shadow is broken. Dave Shadow is surely finished!
Edison: Dangerroooouuussss!!!!
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Oct 4, 2009 15:44:40 GMT -5
It takes a while, but Jefferson eventually stirs first and he slowly crawls towards the prone Shadow. He drapes an arm over his chest and collapses himself. The referee, right on cue, also begins to move. He slowly twists his head to detect the cover and gradually slithers towards the heap of demolition. He raises his hand, it drops and hits the canvas. ONE! His hand battles gravity and raises up only to succumb to the force and strike the cluttered mat again. TWO! His hand raises up for the third and final time and it plummets to the ground. THREE more milliseconds and Jefferson would be the new Emperor of the Ring. Instead, he’s left to question what he has to do to win the match as Dave Shadow somehow manages to raise his injured shoulder off the mat.
McNally: Is that it!? No! Unbelievably, Shadow kicks out. Good lord, what a contest!
Edison: Jefferson looks like somebody just told him Kevin Anderson wants to interview him!
Jefferson can’t believe it as he staggers to his feet, losing his balance and stumbling into the ropes. Shadow also begins to pull himself up, using the ropes on the opposite side of the ring. The referee pushes himself to a vertical position and with a bemused look on his face, wonders where all the debris comes from. He dutifully clears the ring of the mess and the two men have a clear battlefield in which to settle this bout.
Jefferson, enraged and desperate, rushes at Dave and clinches him into a sleeper hold. He arches back and looks to hit the devastating but rarely seen Sleeper Suplex, that will surely end this match, once and for all. Shadow is wily, however, and he manages to utilize Jefferson’s desperation against him. He twists and turns not only his own body, but the body of his opponent as well. Eventually, Jefferson finds himself with his head between Shadow’s thighs. Shadow reaches down and exerting as much effort that he can afford, hauls Jefferson up before landing a brutal powerbomb.
He’s not finished, though, as he retains his clutch on his opponent and with a strenuous roar, lifts Jefferson back up again. It is Jefferson who is cunning, this time, though, as he falls backwards, looking to counter a second powerbomb with a hurricanrana, pulling a move straight out of Shadow’s own repertoire. But Shadow holds his opponent upside down, drops a knee into the back and releases his grip on one leg and before you can say “Tap out, Bitch!”, Shadow locks in an agonizing Stretch Muffler.
Jefferson writhes and yells in pain as Shadow adjusts his body, eventually positioning himself so he is sitting on the back of his victim in order to apply an unfathomable amount of pressure to the spine of Jefferson, who howls in agony.
For Jefferson, time is eternal as his curved vertebrae feels as if it is about to shatter into a million pieces. Despite being only two-hundred and thirteen pounds, the weight of Dave Shadow seems to be greatly augmented as he forces his weight downwards in the squat position. The referee is on standby, ready to receive the signal from Jefferson that he can take no more. A grimace on the face of Jefferson tells the full story of the pain and suffering he is in, in lurid detail. Profanity spills unfiltered from the rasping mouth of Jefferson, turning the air blue as an outlet for his agony. Shadow’s face is one of determination. His thighs burn from the strain of his hunkered position.
On multiple occasions Jefferson considers tapping – each fleeting second of surrender is conflicted by his overwhelming thirst to become Emperor of the ring. His right hand hovers mere inches from the canvas, his slick palm perpendicular to the mat. His left is tightly clenched, almost absorbing as much pain as it can - even his trimmed fingernails dig into his heart line. His heart itself – he can feel that pounding on the canvas. It’s rapid rhythm attributable to the gruelling contest and the fear of defeat. After such a long and tough journey to reach this final stage, the last thing he wants to hear right now is the bell being rung.
His mind racing, he desperately focuses and convinces himself to conjure up an exit strategy before the pain becomes too much and begins to cloud his thoughts. He turns his head slowly, from left to right. The sanctuary of the ropes are too far away for him to even consider edging towards them, even if he could. He could do nothing with his arms bar tap out or use them to indicate how much of a torture this particular submission hold really is. He grips a tuft of his short hair and tugs, trying to momentarily distract himself from the pain in his lower back. His left leg is draped over the shoulder of Dave Shadow like a lumberjack carrying a fallen tree. His attempts to wriggle it free end up fruitless as Shadow holds two sturdy hands on the leg to keep it stationed over his stronger shoulder. By power of deduction, he comes to the conclusion that his only saviour comes in the form of his free leg. He bends his knee and hooks his leg like a scorpion’s tale. The boot connects with Shadow’s shoulder, which has taken a significant amount of punishment already in this match. He hooks again, and this time catches Shadow in the face. The impact shocks him and he releases his grip on the leg.
The relief from Jefferson’s back ironing out is refreshing. He remains on the canvas for a moment, savoring the feeling of a straight back. No chiropractor in the world could recreate this feeling. It is short lived, however, as Shadow, not keen on allowing Jefferson to recuperate, drops some stiff elbow drops to the lower back of the horizontal Jefferson. Shadow pulls Jefferson to his feet and lifts him up before dropping down onto his knee with a standard backbreaker as Shadow intelligently expands his repertoire. Shadow attempts the cover, but Jefferson is not prepared to fight through the recent pain only to fall here. The referee reaches two before Jefferson kicks out.
Shadow, disgruntled at Jefferson’s persistence, draws him to his feet once more and buries Jefferson’s head between his thighs. Jefferson’s arched back groans once more under the strain. Shadow underhooks both arms and looks to be aiming for a Butterfly Suplex, but Jefferson frees his arms and grasps the knees of Shadow, bringing him down with a simple sweep. Jefferson, keeping a hold of Shadow’s legs, turns his opponent over and locks in a High Elevated Crab.
The cold hand of revenge clasps its spiteful grip on this match as it becomes Shadow’s turn to scowl and yell in agony. The high elevation of the hold forces Shadow’s neck into an awkward angle as well as stretching his abdominal muscles. To make matters worse, all of his body weight rests mostly on the injured shoulder. Shadow squirms under the stress applied by his remorseless opponent and it becomes his turn to seek an escape. The referee, who has by now fully recovered from his fall and reaped the benefits of forty winks, returns to standby mode in case Shadow runs out of options.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Oct 4, 2009 15:45:05 GMT -5
For him, too, the ring seems to have grown five sizes too big as the ropes hang worryingly far from his reach. In such a compressed position, he would be unable to dish out any serious fightback with his arms on the planted feet of his constrictor. His only hope is his flexibility. He rolls his shoulders and neck, attempting to pop out of the hold. Jefferson realizes this and swoops down, reverting to a more conventional double leg crab. This does not deter Shadow, however, as he manages to twist his shoulder and squeeze his head out through the gap between his body and the left leg of Jefferson. He soon finds himself on his back with his legs being wheelbarrowed by Jefferson. Shadow throws a right hand, but his opponent is out of reach. Jefferson retaliates with a right foot to the painful shoulder of Shadow. As Shadow turns onto his side, finally liberated from the grip of Jefferson, he invites a free shot to the shoulder, which draws another groan from the International Champion.
Jefferson jerks Shadow up to his feet, almost pulling his arm out of his socket. He lifts the throbbing arm up into the air then tugs it back downwards, almost tearing the limb from Shadow’s torso. He backs Shadow against the ropes then uses the weakened arm to whip Shadow across the ring. He swoops down and when Shadow returns, he lifts him up onto his shoulders into a fireman’s carry, but before he can drop him, presumably into a Samoan drop, Shadow drops down the back and executes a neckbreaker, sacrificing his shoulder to take Jefferson down.
Both men remain on the canvas, both really feeling the effects of this blockbuster of a contest. Shadow nurses his shoulder while Jefferson holds his neck – the pain shooting all the way through his spine at this point. The referee, for the first time in this match, is the only man who is mobile and he begins to take advantage of that fact by beginning a dreaded ten count.
1!
Both men hear the initiation of the count, but neither can coerce themselves to react.
2!
Shadow grits his teeth as a twinge in his shoulder makes his entire body shudder.
3!
Jefferson is yet to move. He feels almost paralyzed from the pain searing through his vertebrae.
4!
The fans are on tenterhooks. They don’t want to be cheated like this. Regardless of previous affiliation or following, they all begin to cheer loudly, urging both men to answer the count.
5!
Halfway there and still neither man stirs. Tension thickens in the arena to the point that you wouldn’t even need a knife to cut through it.
6!
The referee hesitates. He himself begins willing at least one of the competitors to move, fearing the promotion may have a mob on their hands if this huge match was to end in a stalemate.
7!!
Cuticles are ingested in mass around the arena. The accumulated sweat at ringside creates a humid, almost jungle-like atmosphere.
8!!!
Finally, one of the men moves. Shadow starts to ascend, first by sitting up, then by turning onto his side.
9!!!!
Jefferson also shifts his body onto one knee. Shadow, meanwhile pushes himself to his feet. Looking a bit worse for wear, both men have a glazed look in their eyes. Shadow motions to Jefferson to come at him. Jefferson, digging deep, extracts some energy from within and surges at Shadow with a clothesline. Shadow ducks and rushes for the ropes. As Jefferson turns, he’s caught by Shadow’s rebound Lou Thesz press.
Shadow rolls back onto his feet. In a drunken-like stagger, he turns to face Jefferson, who gets to one knee, then to his feet but with his head still bowed. Shadow closes in, applies a facelock and attempts a DDT, but Jefferson blocks it, lasso’s his hands around the waist of Shadow and launches him up and over in a Northern Lights Suplex. Due to his damaged back, the bridge which he holds is weak and allows Shadow the opportunity to kick out just before the three count.
McNally: Almost a three count there as Jefferson almost became the Emperor of the Ring.
The match has even Edison in awe.
Edison: What the hell have these guys got left in the tank!?
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Oct 4, 2009 15:46:12 GMT -5
Jefferson turns onto his side and gasps for breath. The match time is running high and both men have put each other through hell and worse. Jefferson pushes himself to his feet as Shadow is not far behind him. Shadow recklessly charges in with a loose clothesline which Jefferson ducks before wrapping his arms around the waist of Shadow and hitting a killer release German suplex. The crowd go wild as both men lay prone again. Jefferson’s chest raises up and down like a trampoline being used by a fat man. He sits up and turns to notice Shadow – he is laying diagonally in the middle of the ring – the perfect distance from the turnbuckle. Jefferson debates in his head if it is worth the risk. He reasons with himself that he has tried everything else and so follows his instinct. He saunters over to the corner and prepares himself for the climb. The turnbuckle seems more like a maintenance ladder as he climbs, expecting to find an eagle circling at the summit. He finally reaches the top and steadies himself, his balance not being found easily.
After all they’ve been through, it comes down to this moment. They’ve been through tables, a crowbar and even the crowd. It takes just one man to pluck up the courage and the effort to move, even through great risk and sacrifice for an eternal crowning moment.
Shadow jumps to his feet and rushes at Jefferson. He hops up to the top turnbuckle as quickly as he can and despite Jefferson standing with his back to him, he manages to wrap his arm around him and bring him back down to earth with a bang as he hits the Blink from the top rope!
McNally: Blink from the top rope! This must be it, surely Jefferson can’t go on from here!?
Edison: I’ve said it before – I’ll say it again: Daannngerrroooouuuuussssss!!!!
Shadow can barely force himself to move, but the promise of being named the Emperor of the Ring is stimulus enough for him. He throws a tired arm over the chest of Jefferson and the referee drops to his knees to count. ONE! TWO! THREE!
The bell rings frenetically, attempting to drown out the roar of the crowd. This epic bout finally met its conclusion and it is with a deep regret that both men could not emerge victors after such brave effort. Nevertheless, it is one man who surfaces as the number one out of sixteen, though you could barely tell as he lies in a beaten and exhausted state in the middle of the ring.
In a rare delay, Phillip almost forgets his lines as he is captivated by the battle that just took place. He booms over the mic:
“Ladies and Gentleman, here is your winner, THE Emperor of the Ring 2009! Dave Shadow!”
Shadow manages to get to his feet. He tries to absorb the magnitude of the victory, but the deafening ovation from the crowd momentarily dampens his appreciation. Finally, a wry smirk spreads across the face of the self proclaimed saviour of ACW and it’s immediately picked up by the fans, who switch from satisfied approval to an indignant riposte. They throw cups and other junk at the new Emperor, a title which he will surely relish...
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Oct 4, 2009 15:46:57 GMT -5
Dave Shadow just ignores the rabble, basking in the glow of his achievement. It is a culmination of everything that he has been through. The closure of the GWF and CIW nearly taking him out of professional wrestling, his time in hiding as “The Candyman” Dave Tyler fighting for the Entertainment Title, his time in Zero Tolerance as the lackey for Thunderkiss. The brutal attack on his person and then that on his brother Jay, everything has come together as he can now be called Emperor of the Ring. As Jack Jefferson rolls out the side of the ring, Dave Shadow is helped to his feet by referee Raymond Allen Fleming and his arm is raised. As soon as it is dropped down and as he turns to celebrate for the crowd behind him, he is interrupted by some familiar music. The weak or the strong, who got it goin’ on? Ya Dead Wrong The weak or the strong, who got it goin’ on? Ya Dead Wrong [/b] Chris Phenomenal appears at the top of the entrance ramp, donned in some casual attire, a pair of True Religions and an Affliction T-Shirt, his head heavily bandaged from his encounter with Senator earlier in the night, microphone in hand, the victory celebration of Dave Shadow is cut short as he turns and looks up at Chris. Chris Phenomenal: Kill my music."Dead Wrong" fades out as Dave Shadow gets a microphone from Phillip Jones, turning and looking right back up at Chris Phenomenal. He is still breathing quite heavily, his words slow and tired, and he falls back on the ropes for support. Dave Shadow: Oh, Chris. Let me guess. You're here for a rematch, now. You want to cast doubt on my Emperor of the Ring win? Huh?Chris Phenomenal: Oh, I’m not here for a rematch Dave, in fact, based on my present condition I doubt that I’d be able to take you on. No, I‘m just out here to observe your celebration personally, so go on, continue.Dave Shadow looks on at Chris who tucks the microphone under his arm. Dave however shows no inclination of continuing to humor Chris Phenomenal as he looks right back up at him. Chris Phenomenal: Come on Dave, you‘ve finally accomplished something that‘s actually worth mentioning and you‘re going to let me ruin your party, ruin your celebration? What‘s the matter Dave, are you afraid of the Boogeyman, that someone is going to come and attack you again in front of these people? Someone who up and to this point has stayed away from the public, whose identity is still a mystery is going to come down there and attack you in front of all these people?Dave looks up at Chris shaking his head. Even still, he does turn his head and glance around him, showing just a hint of doubt that perhaps something bad is about to happen. Dave Shadow: What are you on about, Chris?Chris Phenomenal: Well, as it happens, I know the identity of your attacker.Shadow relaxes just a little, and smirks. Dave Shadow: Think I’m going to fall for that again, Chris? Freeman already tried that and look where it got him on Monday. I’m not putting my Emperor of the Ring title, nor my International Championship on the line against you. Not now, not ever.Chris Phenomenal: I wouldn’t be so sure of that Dave, and as far as the identity of the attacker, I’m not like that conniving scum Freeman making something up. I come with a reliable source, an eye-witness account.Dave Shadow: What are...Chris Phenomenal: You see Dave, maybe you shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss me, shouldn’t be so quick to anger. You’ve seen what that can foster, you heard the attacker just the same as I did last week. You see earlier, I’d forgotten what I was going to tell you but I seem to recall it, it’s something you’d be very, very interested in, for more than one reason.The crowd is interested, but Shadow is rapidly losing patience. Dave Shadow: Oi, Chris. In case you've not noticed, right now, there's meant to be confettii falling down, fireworks shooting off, my music playing through the arena. So you've got two choices. Either turn round right now, quit the BS, and let me enjoy this moment. Or you can tell me what you know, and be done with it.Chris Phenomenal: You see Dave, that eyewitness was another person who fell foul of our attacker.Dave Shadow: Who? I’ve already talked to Alicia and she never got to see the person’s face.Dave Shadow turns to Phillip Jones and asks for him to pass him the red bandana next to the International Title. Phillip passes it into the ring to Dave who holds it up. Dave Shadow: All she got was this stupid bandana. And as stylish as it is, it doesn't really tell us much. As for eye witnesses.... I’m still here and Jay is still out in a coma.....Chris Phenomenal: You’re sure about that?Dave Shadow: Of course I am. I think I’d know if my own brother recovered…Chris Phenomenal: So, so arrogant Dave, earlier I meant to tell you that’d I’d heard that Jay was awake, that he’d come out of his coma so I’d called him to…As the importance of this statement sinks in, Dave's eyes open as wide as they can. He starts to stumble accross the ring, reaching the front of it, and leaning forward on the ropes. Dave Shadow: ...What?Chris Phenomenal: You see Dave, if you had let me get a word in earlier you’d probably already know about your phantom attacker instead of being worried about this. In fact, I know the attacker is here in the arena right now and quite frankly I think we’re a lot alike in a number of ways. In fact, maybe right now I’m just bullshitting as he’s attacking Alicia after what happened last week, in fact maybe he’s standing right behind you.If Dave is nervous at this, he doesn’t show it. He folds his arms. Dave Shadow: Nice try Chris, but notice that big thing behind you, it shows me exactly what’s going on behind…The Alphatron behind Chris Phenomenal immediately flickers off, Dave Shadow’s advantage negated as Chris Phenomenal just smiles. Chris Phenomenal: He’s always one step ahead of you Dave, and you can’t change that, you can’t stop it. Now, if you want to know his identity I’d suggest you make it worth my while to tell you.Dave shakes his head. Dave Shadow: Screw you, Chris. I can go straight to Jay now and find out for myself.Chris Phenomenal: Really Dave, you do that, you call Jay because I’m certain that if I know about Jay, and have already talked to the attacker do you not think I’d have told him he’d come out of the coma, do you not think he’d be going back to cover his tracks? I’m sure someone like you knows about the escalation pyramid Dave, from peeping to rape, rape to murder, or in this case, bloody assault to murder. I think for Jay’s safety it’d be best if you just gave me what I want as opposed to waiting and putting your faith in this man.The crowd watches, absorbed in this battle of wills. Is Phenomenal bluffing? Shadow grits his teeth, his agitation starting to show itself. Dave Shadow: I swear, if anything has happened to Jay I‘ll…Chris Phenomenal: You’ll what, Dave? You’ll come after me, you’ll attack me? Seeing as how I’m such a nice guy Dave, I figured I’d keep it a secret that Jay was awake so there’s a small chance that he hasn’t heard, that Jay is still safe. That sure isn’t going to last long, however, so I suggest we reach a mutually beneficial arrangement.Dave Shadow: You’re not getting a Emperor of the Ring rematch, Chris. You don't deserve it...Chris Phenomenal: Alright then, the same deal you gave Jason Freeman, I reveal the identity of the attacker in exchange for an International Title shot and unlike with Freeman, I know the truth.Dave Shadow pauses as he turns around and stares at the International Title at ringside. The choice however is easy, with already one victory over Chris Phenomenal and a chance to bring the attacker to justice he must give in. Dave Shadow: Fine! You want a title shot? You got it.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Oct 4, 2009 15:47:45 GMT -5
The crowd roars as months of anticipation have finally come to a head, the identity of the attacker now sure to be revealed.
Dave Shadow: That said, until I find out who the attacker is, until I can confirm it, you get nothing. Understand?
Chris Phenomenal: That’s fine by me, Dave.
Chris Phenomenal begins to walk down the ramp towards the ring as Dave Shadow looks on, the red bandana from the attacker in his hand. He moves back again, moving to the middle of the ring. Dave looks a touch unstable on his feet....
Dave Shadow: Woah, what the hell do you think you’re doing?
Chris ducks into the ring, microphone still in hand, arms raised as a gesture of peace towards Dave Shadow before extending his hand towards him.
Chris Phenomenal: Seal the deal?
Dave studies Chris Phenomenal for a moment and begrudgingly takes his hand, shaking it as the two steal the deal. Chris pulls away before pointing towards the bandana in Dave’s hand.
Chris Phenomenal: May I see that for a moment?
Dave hesitates again, wary of turning over the only piece of evidence in regards to the attacker. Chris gives a small, assuring nod as Dave turns it over. Chris looks it over before ducking out of the ring as Dave Shadow looks on…
Dave Shadow: Hey? HEY!?!? What do you think you’re doing? I agreed to your deal. Now tell me who brained me, who attacked my brother, who abducted Alicia?
The mention of Alicia Laureano draws the attention of Chris Phenomenal as he turns and looks back at Dave Shadow standing in the ring.
Chris Phenomenal: Oh, yes. I simply have to ask, Dave....do you have feelings for Alicia? More than just feelings, perhaps?
The question, long overarching the entire pursuit of the attacker, isnow out in the open. How does Dave Shadow respond? With silence. Chris just gives him a slight nod.
Chris Phenomenal: That’s alright Dave, I know how it feels, I really do.
Before the crowd can start mulling over these surprising statements, events overtake them.
Dave Shadow: Tell... me.... who…
Chris Phenomenal has now reached the top of the entrance ramp as he turns around and looks at Dave Shadow and then down at the bandana in his hands.
Chris Phenomenal: Tell me Dave, if I told you that this bandana was the biggest clue to the puzzle, was the key to solving this mystery, who would you suppose it pointed to?
Shadow thinks for a moment or so, playing along albeit with a touch of bad grace.
Dave Shadow: I don’t know, James Murphy, Kat Williams, Damian DeNiro..... There’s a number of guys who could wear a bandana.
Chris looks down at the bandana in his hand, shaking his head at Dave Shadow.
Chris Phenomenal: This bandana, it means so much more than just a simple piece of cloth. I’m surprised Alicia didn’t feel what I feel when I hold onto this, quite an amazing lady she is.
Dave Shadow: Come on, Chris. Drop the pseudo-psychic crap. I don't believe...
Chris Phenomenal It’s not a matter of belief, Dave, I mean did you even look at this?
Dave Shadow: Of course I did, it’s a red bandana, nothing extraordinary or special about that. You could buy them at any clothing store.
Chris Phenomenal: So you didn’t look at it. Worn in some places, discolored in others. Dirty, yet not unclean, well used but not as a handkerchief. Whoever’s this is, it held some form of meaning, a gift, something that reminds something of someone.
Shadow’s patience is getting extremely thin. He balls his fist.
Dave Shadow: Shocking. The bandana the attacker was wearing means something. Chris, I'm about ten seconds away from beating the answer out of you.
Chris Phenomenal: Tell me Dave…
Dave Shadow: NO! No more talking. Chris, the next words out of your mouth had better be the name of the attacker. No more crap, no more time wasting. TELL ME NOW!
The crowd agrees with Dave Shadow, a chant of “tell him now” filling the arena for a few moments as Chris smiles at the mass in attendance.
Chris Phenomenal: It’s been nearly three months Dave, what is five more minutes to you, especially if it helps you understand why this happened? You look at this bandana and how you overlooked it and in a way it’s fitting with everything you’ve ever done, you’ve always looked for the easy way, the instant gratification. You’ve never been willing to think, to look at yourself, the small things that create the bigger picture. There’s a reason that your two federations have fallen and that’s because you grow enamored with two or three wrestlers and allow them to dominate your show as opposed to focusing on the people who keep the show together. You’re always looking for the quickest way to the top and because of that you miss the little things.
Phenomenal holds up the bandana to underline his point.
Chris Phenomenal: I would have hoped that by now you would have easily been able to put it together, that these attacks were personal and professional. I know that your dismissal of this bandana as a simple object would be worse than a physical onslaught to that person because of what this bandana means. Dave Shadow, I think this attack has led everyone to sympathize with you but in due time it will truly reveal what you are really like, it will expose the truth. The attacker will no longer be a vindictive attacker who’s reviled, instead he will be held as the man who was willing to do everything possible to prevent you from bringing ruin to the wrestling world, from taking everything from him that he’s worked hard for.
Dave looks at Chris, his head bowed as he thinks about the words of Chris Phenomenal.
Dave Shadow You’re telling me that the man who attacked me is innocent, that I asked too…
Chris Phenomenal: Not the attacker but his anger, his raw emotion. The side of him he couldn’t control until tonight, tonight when everything came together for him…
Dave Shadow: Came together for who? Who is the attacker, Chris?
There’s a hint of real desperation in his voice now.
Chris Phenomenal: The attacker Dave. The man who nearly ended your career with one savage assault. The…
Dave Shadow: There’s no need for esoteric titles, just tell me the son of a bitch's name so I can tear his throat out!
Chris Phenomenal: I bid you luck with that Dave, I really do, because the attacker is here tonight, he was a member of the GWF, he’s a former champion, who holds a victory over you.
Chris Phenomenal stares at the bandana before holding it up in the air.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Oct 4, 2009 15:48:09 GMT -5
Chris Phenomenal: THIS! This is MY bandana, Dave.The crowd is hushed as Dave is stunned for a moment as Chris tucks the bandana into the back pocket of his jeans. It takes only a second or so for Shadow to put everything together, and his expression twists into one of full-on bloodlust. Shadow immediately drops the microphone and hurriedly steps between the two ropes, leaping off the ring apron and heading off after Chris Phenomenal who has already headed into the back, running as fast as he can. Dave Shadow is empowered by rage, heading through the curtains. The camera switches to the back as Chris is sprinting past the makeup lady, past Dan White, past the locker rooms all the while with Dave Shadow in hot pursuit. Chris finally makes it to the parking garage, leaping into his red convertible as the door is opening. Chris slams the key into the ignition, turning the vehicle on. He slams it into reverse, pulling out of the stall before putting it into drive and heading right at Dave Shadow, who is still in pursuit as the garage door is almost open. Dave doesn’t stop as Chris looks almost ready to run Dave down but abruptly turns left. Dave Shadow side steps the back end of the car, as Chris roars through the now open door. Dave Shadow is left looking at the fleeing vehicle, a sharp left hand turn and Chris is gone into the night. Dave stands still, watching after him, paralyzed by rage... Alicia Laureano is careful to give him a moment to let the red haze clear before she comes up beside Dave, placing her hand on his shoulder despite their earlier quarrel. Shadow just continues to stare. His victory is forgotten. His whole world is now about one man, and one purpose. Dave Shadow: I’m going to kill him, I swear, if it’s the last thing I do.FADE OOC: Credit to CP, Dave Shadow and AK
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Oct 4, 2009 15:50:27 GMT -5
A Cry for Help (Credit: Torak)The young night ages swiftly amidst the progressing drama and excitement unfolding in the arena. The crowning of the new Emperor of the Ring, and the ACW World Championship being decided shortly sustains a shroud of anticipation hovering at ringside. A colorful and varied assembly, the ACW fans sometimes make for spectacular entertainment themselves; numerous witty and sarcastic home-made signs provide some interesting and humorous reading material along the scan of the vibrant landscape brimming with ACW devotees; some fans can be spotted dancing in their section, buoyed by the unforgettable experience of witnessing their favorite stars up close. A cluster of fans way up at the back, in the company of the wrestling gods, are co-ordinatedly decorated in the outfits of their favorite superstars, occasionally breaking out into mock fights, amateurly imitating their preferred idol. Some fans cheer and wave erratically as they spot themselves being transmitted onto the massive Alphatron, revelling in their moment of minor celebrityhood. Abruptly, the Alphatron is cut off and what was a scene of joy and exhilaration being projected onto the huge screen is replaced by complete void - total blackness blankets every inch of the dominating display. Even though nothing is yet audible from the enormous in-house speakers, there is a sense that an audio track of some kind is playing, building slowly to its full volume. An almost eerie, deathly ringback tone pulses. It repeats itself twice before a click cuts it off mid pulse. Heavy exhalation can be heard from one end of the line. “9-1-1. What is your emergency?” The woman’s voice gave away certain details about the operator. She was young, probably reasonably attractive and while she normally enjoyed her job, today had been a bad day for her. Unfortunately for the operator, it seemed it was about to get a lot worse. Gripped with hysteria and noisily sobbing, a feminine voice responded with an ear splitting exclamation. “He’s Dead!”Perplexity initially plundered the operator’s composure but managing to resalvage her stout professionalism, she arrowed a forthright enquiry scantily veiled in a tone of concern. “Okay, what is your location, Miss?” She paused, allowing for the distressed woman to divulge the information she needed to follow normal protocol. “Oh my God! His Eyes…they’re…they’re gone - just white…my god…” The woman was uncontrollably weeping and her heavy breath was chillingly ghostlike. “Okay, Miss. You have to tell me where you are so I can help.” The operator was stern. She attempted to house sympathy for the woman, but the grieving woman’s distinct lack of serenity was making it difficult for the operator to follow procedure. “…” There was no response, but the sound of somebody vomiting transmitted with disgusting lucidity. The woman on the end of the line rasped then let out a distraught howl. “Miss, I can send an officer around to help but you need to tell me where you are and what has happened. Now, please remain calm and tell me.” The woman was becoming slightly agitated, for which she felt quite guilty about. She was approaching the end of her shift and had been hoping the final hour would pass by without incident. “It’s too late! He’s gone! His eyes…his skin…oh god, his tongue!” She ranted incessantly, almost as if she had become unaware of the presence of the operator on the opposite end of the line. She let out a stricken snivel. “…and if you tell me where you are I can send assistance. First, I need you to calm yourself.” She resisted the urge to shout. She envisioned grabbing the frantic woman and shaking her until she snapped out of her fit of anguish. “He’s dead! Murd…” She halted her tongue and began to blubber hysterically again. The operator could not stifle her agitated sigh. “Look miss, I understand you’re upset, but if you don’t tell me what happened, where you are…I can’t help you.”There was a considered silence. The crying and heavy breathing had hastily stopped. The operator was just about to ask if the woman was still there before the grieving woman shot back, clearly and composed. “But… I know who did it!”A hasty click preceded the sound of the dull dial tone, leaving only the Operator on the line, alone. “Hello? Miss? Are you…? Shit!”The operator duly hung up and that appeared to be the end of the audio transcript. However, the screen remained black. Puzzled, everybody in the arena shot questioning looks toward each other, collectively trying to identify the person to whom the voice belonged. There was a vague familiarity about the tone, but it did not belong to any woman currently within the ACW roster. Not even its distinct British accent lend any clues as to its owner. Just as the show looked set to rejoin its normal itinerary - a single haunting image slowly faded onto the shadowy canvas of the Alphatron screen, holding the attention of all in attendance: It lingered for less than thirty seconds on screen, but the preceding startling dialogue may have etched into the memories of those who had heard it for a long time. Fade....
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Oct 4, 2009 15:52:43 GMT -5
Match 7: ACW World Title Match - No Disqualification Black & White vs. Thunder Train (Credit: Dan White)
Philip: The following match is scheduled for one fall, and is for the ACW World Heavyweight Championship!
Pop from the crowd.
Philip: Coming first to the ring, the challenger. Weighing at 360 lbs, from The End Of The Tracks....Thunder Train!
Metal Cover of Gourmet Race hits. Does anyone read these? As to go by Hunter's rule, if you don't have an Entrance description I'm not going to write you one. Train comes out, down ring, much jeering and booing.
Philip: And his opponent, the World Champion! From Cardiff, Wales, weighing at 248 lbs....Black & White!!
Again no entrance cos I haven't written one up yet. “Procession” by Queen hits, B&W walks out, cheers from crowd, he looks like he's into S&M or something. Enters ring, lights come on.
The bell rings, and there is an aura of caution from both men as they leave their corners. Well, B&W is very much unlike his usual self, slyly slinking out of his corner. The duo lock up, but B&W is able to duck under Train's arm, and he begins to throw punches into Train's back. The man-beast resists the assault for some time, but eventually is forced to step forwards, as the punches take their toll. He turns around, retreating to the corner, and this allows B&W to throw a few more punches, this time into the face and chest area. B&W intends to wear his opponent down as much as he can, but Train shows the strength and force that he's well known for, taking B&W by surprise and grabbing him, lifting him up by the neck, before throwing him across the centre of the ring. B&W gets to his feet, and whilst he shows no fear, the look on his face suggests that this match is going to go on a lot further than he'd perhaps anticipated. He's back up to his feet and rushes towards Train, but Train manages to jump out the way, with B&W hurtling towards the turnbuckle.
McNally: Ooof, nice reversal there by Train! Edison: But Dan or Black and White or whatever hit the turnbuckle with some force.
He doesn't hit it with any force, enabling himself to slow down, but he still stumbles back towards Train, who clatters B&W with a clothesline to the back. The World Champion stumbles to his knees, and receives more treatment, as Train delivers a powerful knee to the side of the stomach. B&W falls to the ground with a wince on his face, clutching his side. Train meanwhile smirks, as he lifts his arms up, much to several jeers and boos from the crowd. He grabs B&W by the head, whipping him at the ropes. Train doubles over, but B&W reads this, kicking his foe in the face. Train's head shoots up, but he's in a precarious state and he succumbs to a Dropkick to the chest, that forces him backwards a couple of steps. B&W is surprised at the endurance of the big man, being able to take such a forceful kick with relative ease. Regardless, he's quick to his feet, and he darts at Train, planting a clothesline. But again, Train takes the move on the chin, without too much bother, and it is B&W who is on his knees, clutching his left arm. And Train follows this by hoisting B&W up to his feet, and bringing him down with a Discuss Elbow to the head.
McNally: That shows the strength of Train. Dan won't be able to use his conventional methods to win tonight.
B&W hurtles to the ground, clutching his head with his hands. Train smirks as he stalks B&W, walking around him in a circle. He's looking to make light work of the Welshman, and so far, he appears to be succeeding. He lifts B&W back up, and throws him hard into a turnbuckle. B&W stumbles backwards out of it, and Train follows this up with a firm back drop. Train then rolls B&W over and makes the first cover of the match, but the champ is able to kick out before the count of three. Train glances over towards the referee with some distaste, but inn reality he's aware that it'll take a bit more than a Back Drop to finally win the World title. So instead, he gets back to his feet, and hoists his enemy up alongside him. He lifts him up into a Bearhug, and swiftly goes towards the turnbuckle. He rams B&W into the corner, and the pain shown on B&W's face is evident, screaming out loud. Train attempts it a second time, but this time he's caught short, as B&W manages to step up onto the turnbuckle, and flip himself over Train's head. B&W manages to land on his feet and he allows Train to turn around, before throwing an almighty punch to the side of his face, much to the delight of the crowd.
McNally: Nice right hook there Edison: He's got the right idea, slowly wearing Train down.
He follows this up with another couple of punches, and this time Train is starting to feel the pain, as he stumbles into the corner. B&W makes sure not to fall victim to his previous attempts in the corner, and instead of going for close range punches, he hits Train in the face with a Dropkick. Train falls into a seated position in the corner, and B&W takes a few steps back. He looks around the ring, before rushing forwards and delivering an all-powerful knee straight to Train's head. His large head bounces off the bottom rung, and shakes about like a Formula 1 car driver after a serious collision. B&W then grabs Train by the feet, and drags him towards the centre of the ring. He makes the cover, but Train is able to get a shoulder up right before three. B&W sighs, shaking his head with disgust, as he too looks over at the referee. But there's no persuading RAF otherwise, and B&W is forced to continue with the bout, knowing that the way it's going, he looks set to make it an early evening as it is. He lifts Train up, but Train manages to react quickly, with a hard knee to the face, knocking B&W loopy.
McNally: I say, that pretty much came out of nowhere Edison: Great shot to the face!
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Oct 4, 2009 15:53:07 GMT -5
Train then takes B&W, throwing him towards the ropes. B&W manages to hold onto the ropes, but he is then hit by a Train – bad metaphor, anyone? - and sent hurtling towards the outside of the ring, close to the commentator's desks. Train follows, not allowing B&W any respite as he lifts him up, and throws him into the crowd barricade. B&W smashes against them with some force, and again he winces. He might be wearing Train down bit by bit, but he doesn't have the sheer strength that Train has to deliver serious masses of damage in such a few amount of moves. He approaches the champion, smirking as he offers him a had up. B&W goes to take it, but Train pulls his hand away and watches B&W fall back to the ground. He then points towards the crowd, who are quick to get to their feet, shouting and jeering and booing the challenger, who takes it all in as though it was an all you can eat buffet. He then picks B&W back up, and throws him into the steel steps. But B&W is able to evade assault, as he leaps up onto the steel steps and carefully down to the ground. Angered that his move was unsuccessful, Train follows suit, only to be attacked as B&W turns around, flying off the steps, and taking the big man down for the first time in the match.
McNally: Wow! And great agility there by Black and White! Reminiscent of the old days!
There's a huge pop from the crowd, as B&W gets up to his feet, with his red eyes glaring down on his opponent. He then goes towards the apron, lifting it up and pulling out a tennis racket, much to the delight of the crowd. Remember, the match is No DQ, so anything goes! He removes the casing and throws it to the floor, before descending upon Train. He stands over Train's face, plucking one of the barbs before lifting it above his head. He slams it down hard, but not quite all the way, as Train manages to lift a knee, planting a brutal low blow to the champion. B&W immediately drops the racket to one side, holding his manhood with great delicacy as he stumbles off Train. The man-beast now gets to his feet, and with B&W already stumbling around, he's in a precarious position. Train takes B&W, lifting him up into a Vertical Suplex that hits the commentator's table with some force. The spot monkeys amongst the crowd cheer loudly, but to those of whom wrestling is still real to, there's a great cause for concern as far as B&W goes. He is seldom moving, as Train smiles broadly, holding his hands in the air. Fortunately, B&W is moving, showing that he didn't hit a monitor or anything that could cause serious damage.
McNally: What a great move by Train! And Dan is now down, and that could be it. Edison: He smacked the table with some force. Godspeed, Dan!
Either way, Train is still flaunting it, as he drags B&W by the head and slips him back into the ring. He follows, being quick to make a cover.
One....
Two....
Thr-B&W manages to stick his foot on the ropes!
McNally: Ye-NO! He's not got it!
As per usual in these situations, Train has his arms in the air. He believes he's won, and he's elated as he falls to the ground, closing his eyes. But for one minor fall back: there's no bell. And as he opens his eyes to see to the referee and as where the bell is, he's greeted with two fingers being held up firmly in his face. This makes Train mad, and he grabs RAF's fingers, almost ready to break them. But he realises that assault on a referee would mean the match is over, and as much as he'd like to make RAF mincemeat, he releases the veteran referee, and instead looks over at B&W. Train is not a happy bunny, and it shows as he lifts B&W up, and throws him against the ropes with some force. B&W hits the ropes and Train attempts a strong lariat, but B&W is able to duck it. He turns Train around, hooking his arm and goes for the STUNT BOMB!!!
Edison: STUNT BOMB!! STUNT BOMB!! STUNT BOMB!! STUNT BOMB!!
...Only he can't lift Train, who allows B&W a couple of futile attempts to lift him, before elbowing him firmly in the face. B&W flies sideways, and falls straight back into his enemy, who plants him with a huge Spinebuster. The ring, ropes, turnbuckle and all, shake furiously as B&W is hit hard on the ground. Train hooks the leg again, but once again B&W is able to kick out before three! Train just looks at the titantron with great anger and frustration, as he's yet again unable to keep the World Champion down for three. But the match is by no way near over, and Train recognises that. He goes to a corner of the ring, and gets ready to charge, much like an American Footballer would. B&W is slowly getting to his feet, with his back still somewhat damaged from the Spinebuster attempt. He is at his feet though, turning around to see Train charging towards him. B&W manages to dive out of the way at the last moment, and Train hits the turnbuckle with a great crack. And it appears that he's stuck in the turnbuckle, as B&W has an idea. He slips out the ring, grabbing his tennis racket and hoisting it in the air. It generates a great pop from the crowd, who watch on as he hits it with force into Train's bald head.
McNally: And that could well be the equaliser! Edison: Great hit! Train is bleeding out his head and that now could be it!!
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Oct 4, 2009 15:53:31 GMT -5
Train flies backwards, and lands on his back. B&W manages to climb to the top corner, planting a former Finisher and now Trademark, the Welsh Dragon (Corkscrew Moonsault). He flies off the top rope, landing perfectly on top of Train, making a grand cover:
One...
Two...
Three! I mean no! Kick out!!
McNally: How on earth did Train kick out of that?! A shot from the tennis racket and the Moonsault!
A great sigh of frustration from the Welsh Dragon, who looks over apologetically towards RAF. The referee firmly holds up two fingers, and B&W shrugs his shoulders, getting on with it. He picks Train up, attempting to hit him with an Irish Whip. Train as you'd expect reverses this, but this may have been B&W's intentions all along as he hits the ropes with force, leaping up and onto Train. Well, he would but Train steps out the way, and B&W continues, hitting the ropes again and this time without being in control. Train grabs B&W and lifts him up into the OM NOM BOMB, to a shriek from the crowd! But B&W is able to grab hold of the nearby ropes, flipping Train into a Hurricanrana, so Train is resting on the ropes. B&W rushes towards the ropes and hits Train with a firm knee to the back, and the pain causes Train to turn around, holding his lower back with his hand. But this just sets him up right for the 75 MPH KICK, which knocks him in the head with full force!!!
McNally: And that must be it! Surely!
B&W quickly grabs Train's feet, dragging him to the centre of the ring. He then hooks a leg, as the referee makes the count:
One...
Two...
Three!!!
McNally: He's done it! Dan, or Black and White, or whatever you want to call him, has won it! Edison: No first month jitters by the Welshman!
Philip: Here is your winner....and STILL ACW World Heavyweight Champion.....Black & White!!
”Procession” by Queen hits again, as B&W slowly gets to his feet, taking the title belt that is now in the ring. He holds it up rather non-chalently, as he makes his way towards the side of the ring, climbing out and walking up the ramp. No comedic banter from Dan this time; B&W has shown that this rivalry was more than just for a title, it was about blood, guts, and glory. And he has come out on top in his first Pay Per View (and indeed title) defence.
As for Train, he's now on his arse, sitting and holding his head with one hand. He almost, almost had the win, but ultimately B&W just had the grit and determination to win. The fans are booing and jeering him, but he chooses not to care as he gets to his feet, refusing aid from RAF as he starts to make his way to the back, dejected, but proud of himself.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Oct 4, 2009 15:53:47 GMT -5
Segment: This Is It (Credit: Train)
The crowd is still cheering the victory of Dan White as Thunder Train makes his way back to his locker room. He limps down an empty hallway with only Thunder Lawyer by his side, helping him a little bit. However, holding him up is proving to be harder than he thought. Many times on their walk, the weight of Train just crushes Lawyer down. They eventually make it to the door and Thunder Lawyer opens it up for Train. Train takes a few steps inside of the room. He goes over to the table and grabs a nearby chair and takes a seat in it.
Thunder Train: ........
Thunder Lawyer: Well champ, that was a hell of a fight out there tonight. We'll get 'em next time.
Thunder Train: Except, there won't be a next time Lawyer.
Thunder Lawyer is surprised by the news and his eyes widen and head shakes a bit. He just gives a sly smirk back to Train.
Thunder Lawyer: Heh, what are you talking about?
Thunder Train: That was it for me man. I can't keep doing this, not right now at least...
Thunder Lawyer: What? Are you serious? You are in the prime of your career Train! Why would you leave now?
Thunder Train: Because, I just don't think I can keep going on like this. I've not had a day off in this company since I got here. I think I'm losing my passion for it.
Thunder Lawyer: You are losing your passion now? You almost became world champion out there and you are saying you lost your passion? What if you won?
Thunder Train: I thought about that, but I can't give you an answer. I would have crossed that bridge if I got to it, but I was a little too far away.
Thunder Lawyer paces around the room a bit. At first he thought this was just another joke from the Train, but now, he sees that Train doesn't want to do this anymore.
Thunder Lawyer: How can you leave this Train? Do you know how much you are making? Do I need to pull out your contract again? You are a star now! You are in the major leagues! This your moment baby!
Thunder Train: I know that. That old phrase, "Fame ain't all it's cracked up to be"? I guess it's true. Now that I've seen the limelight, I don't think it's all that great.
Thunder Lawyer: So are you gonna go fly to Africa like Dave Chappelle?
Thunder Train: I'm thinking of just staying home and playing with the boys.
Thunder Lawyer: What?
Thunder Train: Exactly.
Thunder Lawyer: You aren't making any sense.
Thunder Train: This doesn't make any sense! I'm sick of this. I know that it doesn't seem like it recently, but deep down inside, I've been wanting to leave for months.
Thunder Lawyer: So you are serious about this?
Thunder Train: I've never been more serious about anything in my life. I've just lost the will to do this.
Thunder Lawyer: So you are just gonna walk out?
Train smiles for the first time since they have gotten back to the locker room. He looks up at Thunder Lawyer with a puppy dog face and whimpers a bit. Thunder Lawyer chuckles and sits down across from Train.
Thunder Train: I need you to go to Gingerdude and get me out of my contract.
Thunder Lawyer: Do you understand how difficult that would be? After EVERYTHING I've had to do regarding your contract, to just go to Gingerdude and ask him to let you out of it?
Thunder Train: Oh come on, you could probably do it. After all, you are the best lawyer ever! Come on, as a friend do this for me.
Thunder Lawyer stands up and walks over to Train who also stands up. The two lock eyes for a long time before Thunder Lawyer begins speaking.
Thunder Lawyer: Well my friend, if that's what you really want. I'll go do it right away.
Thunder Train: Thank you.
The two give a very bromantic hug that would make Patrick Staar shed a tear. Thunder Lawyer smiles to Train again then turns around to the door, going to explain this to Gingerdude. Train goes over to the fridge and grabs a piece of cake and surprisingly, a fork. He sets the cake down on the table and sits down in front of it. Train takes the fork and stabs the cake and takes out a relatively small piece form it. He then lifts it up to his mouth and eats it. The fork is set back down onto the table and Train smiles as he looks up.
Thunder Train: The Train is......finally full....
Fade out....
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Oct 4, 2009 15:56:08 GMT -5
“GOODBYE TRAIN” Credit: Thunder Train, Thunderkiss & High Roller [Dead man walking. Dejected, defeated but stomach full, Thunder Train walks out of the ACW Arena for perhaps the final time. Note the word “perhaps.” As they say in this business, “never say never” therefore we can not count a return out for the big man. Be that as it may, as he draws closer to a ride home where a warm relaxing bed and a full refrigerator await, he finds his path obstructed by the man who he started this long journey with oh so long ago. It is only fitting he be there to see him at the finish line.] Thunderkiss: You know, it’s kinda funny how they won’t let me in but yet they won’t let you out.Thunder Train: Oh, they’ll let me out alright. Thunder Lawyer will see to that. So, what happened to your big invasion where you were going to rain down thunder and lighting upon ACW?[Feeling uneasy with his failures, Thunderkiss lowers his head in shame. No matter how hard it is to discuss his current predicament he cannot leave any questions lingering. He then assertively places his restraining order in front of him, directly under a street light so that the words are illuminated in the night for Train to decipher.] Thunderkiss: See that crack in the sidewalk. That’s 100 feet. And see those gentlemen right over there? They are making sure I do not cross it.Thunder Train: So what’s stopping you? Really? The Thunderkiss I knew wouldn’t let a crack in the sidewalk and a few police officers get in his way.Thunderkiss: Yeah, well the Thunderkiss you knew didn’t have a child and an indisposed wife. They slam me in the pokey, my kid gets raised by the “wonderful” state of California. I may not be parent of the year material, but I ain’t letting that happen.Thunder Train: So then what are you doing here? Wasting time?Thunderkiss: Heh. Oh no, I am not wasting time. Not wasting it at all. In fact, I am handing this matter in a way that truly defines, “brain over brawn.”[Thunderkiss turns his head in the direction of some shadows that hang in the thick, night air and nods. Coming forth from them is none other than the man who’s name is on the tongues of everyone in attendance tonight, High Roller. The sound of cowboy boots creeping along pavement and shuffling cards flutters in the air ] High Roller: Evenin’, mon ami. Dis big boy look like he seen bettah days!Thunderkiss: Because you see, when one door closes.High Roller: A’nuther opens! [Train does his best Rock impersonation and raises his gigantic eyebrow up into his forehead. It only continues to rise as the Roller exchanges a handshake with Thunderkiss before heading back into the arena where unlike these two, his journey is just beginning.] Thunder Train: So who is Gambit?Thunderkiss: Never you mind that. So ... this is it for you? You get your big shot, fail and then call it a day?[Train looks away from Thunderkiss and stares off into the distance. It seems like he spends an eternity just staring off into the night but in reality, only 30 seconds have passed by.] Thunder Train: It's not just that. It's a combination of things that have led me to my decision. I know that this action does make me a bit of a "sore loser" but there's a lot more to it than that. I just need to step back for a second.Thunderkiss: Well, it’s your life. Do what you will.Thunder Train: Gee, thanks Dad.Thunderkiss: Quit being a smart ass. So when is your plane leaving? Thunder Train: Morning. Thunderkiss: Same here, same here. Well, that gives us enough time.Thunder Train: Enough time for what?Thunderkiss: For a game of volleyball.[With a smile as wide as the Grand Canyon, Thunderkiss reaches down into his gym bag and pulls forth a silver stitched volleyball that sparkles like diamonds underneath the moonlight. Upon seeing it Train’s eyes follow suit and his demeanor becomes that of a kid in a candy store.] Thunderkiss: You ready?Thunder Train: I am always up to playing with the boys!Thunderkiss: YEAH!Thunder Train: YEAH![Like two children they run off toward the beach where a sand volleyball court awaits. For the next few hours there will be no civil unrest. There will be no wars, no recession. There will be no adult responsibilities nor worries about the future. There will only be two friends doing what they do best, having fun and living this moment as if it were the their last.] And thus ends Emperor of the Ring. Unbeknownst to the ACW roster, it is also the end of an era...
Tomorrow morning, letters will be arriving at dozens of homes, of superstars, announcers and crew.
It’s time for ACW to get leaner and meaner... and only the strongest will survive the cull.
Fade to Black.
End of Show.
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