Post by Jack Tracks on Sept 1, 2011 3:59:57 GMT -5
With the sleeper locked in good and tight, the referee releases Main's hand, for the final check. It falls like a stone, but no slapping is heard on the mat. Instead, almost by instinct, Main's body twitches, saving the hand from the final drop, twisting on to his stomach. The sudden change in angle makes it tricky to keep the sleeper hold locked in, especially as the blood has begun to make Tracks' arms slick.
With the hold starting to slip away, Tracks seems to abandon it.Instead,he takes both of his hands up to the side of Main's head, pushing it down against the mat. With Jon's skull pinned, Jack bears down with a heavy knee to the temple, which serves to squeeze even more blood from his opponent's nose. Satisfied that Main would be too dazed to get up, Tracks takes a couple steps back and starts wiping some of the blood from his arms.
"Geez, again, kid? Finish him off!"
"I think he wants to, but all that blood makes it hard to really keep a submission hold good and locked in. You saw how he couldn't keep the sleeper hold on for too long."
With Tracks busy wiping some of the blood from his arms, causing it to flick off his skin only to stain the ring with drops of crimson, Main has managed to crawl to the turnbuckle, enough of his faculties having returned to remember where he is. His hands grasp on to the bottom rope, attempting to use them to heave his body up. He gets a little higher, when Tracks goes back on the attack. His approach is a bit more confident, having been so close to victory just moments ago. As he strides forward, he suddenly stops. Main's leg had shot up, square between Track's thighs. But it wasn't like earlier. Instead of doubling over in pain, Jack's expression is one more of surprise. And in mere moments, the surprise changes to a look of anger.
The camera pans down, to see that the leg had been stopped! Jack managed to catch the foot just in time, right by the ankle. Furious at the attempt at yet another dirty tactic, Tracks throws the foot down. He brings his own boot up, and drives it down, right on the Englishman's ankle. Main shoots up in pain, trying to reach for his wounded joint. But as he instinctively sits up, his head gets caught between Tracks' hands.
"It looks like Tracks learned his lesson, but....I don't like that look in his eye..."
"I do! It's the same one he had earlier, if you ask me. I think things are about to get ugly!"
The hands that had clamped around Main's head shift behind his neck, the left forearm pushing his head up, as Jack pulls him up to his feet in a standing Cravate. He cinches the hold,and stares close-up, right in Main's eyes. His own gaze is like a heated drill, boring right through his opponent's skull. "YOU WANNA CHEAP SHOT ME, HUH?!", Tracks screams, loud enough to potentially do damage to Main's ears. He pulls down on the cravate,while bringing his knee up,nearly caving Main's nose in with a heavy impact,causing the blood to flow stronger than before. Another pair of knees crash against Main's skull,and Tracks yells to the crowd.
"YOU PEOPLE WANNA SEE HOW I TAKE CARE OF DIRTY-FIGHTING MOTHERFUCKERS?!"
The crowd roars in response, and Jack obliges. Making sure his grip is tight on the cravate, he leans back, his spine arching in a familiar curve. But unlike the suplex earlier, instead of using Main's trunks as a grab point, he's got the man by the neck. Main is heaved into the air head first, his whole body being pulled by his neck. Main's form is propelled with impressive velocity as Tracks releases him in midair, sending him flying across the ring, to meet a nasty THUD on the other side of the canvass. With the speed and angle he's thrown, the initial impact actually sends Jon skipping across the mat like a stone. But at the second landing, he seems to have gone limp.
But Tracks wastes no seconds this time. As soon as he had released Main, he rushed over to the prone body, and took him by the arm. He drags his foe into the middle of the ring, still on his stomach. Jack stands above Main, moving so the two would face the same way if Jon were able to life his head. Tracks goes to one knee,and grabs Main's arm. He wraps his own limb around it, good and tight around the forearm, causing Main's own arm to bend at a nasty outside angle. The tight lock brings the Englishman's torso up, which puts the next target within reach. Jack's other arm wraps under the chin,just high enough not to count as an illegal choke. The arms close in tightly, stretching Main's shoulder,neck, and pectorals all in painful angles and degrees. Finally, the fingers lock tightly together from both hands, completing a perfect crossface chickenwing.
But Tracks isn't done yet. With Main prone the way he was, one last touch could be put on. Track's knee shifts up from the mat, placing itself at the base of Main's spine. There, it makes for an excellent bending point for a lever made of a human body. The final touch in place, Tracks cranks back, and both men begin screaming. Jon in pain, with blood covering his face and chest. Jack in rage, whipping his head back, sending his long hair falling behind him. The referee dives down to Main's eye-level, asking him if he's going to give in at last.
"What a hold! Some sort of crossface chickenwing variation? With positioning like that, I honestly don't see how Jon Main has any other choice!"
And it seemed he didn't have a choice, after all. Between blood-curdling screams, Jon manages to choke out a "YES!" And that's all the ref needs to hear. He shoots to his feet and signals for the bell. Quickly, Jack Tracks' music hits, as "Don't Stop Me Now" blares over the sound system. But Jack doesn't seem to have heard it, the hold still locked in.
The referee runs over and rapidly taps Jack on the shoulder, telling him it's over. It takes a second for Tracks to get the message,but once he realizes that his music is being played, and the crowd cheering, he comes to his senses and lets go. Jack gets to his feet, a bit wobbly. He looks out at the crowd with a dazed look, but shakes it off, as the official announcement is made, and his hand raised.
"Here is your winner....Jaaaaaaack.....TRAAAAAAAAAAAACKS!"
The crowd erupts once more,and Tracks gives himself a smack on the face to snap out of whatever daze he was in. A smile returns to his face, albeit a tired one. Jack heads up to one of the turnbuckles, pointing out to the crowd, gauging their reactions. Satisfied, he hops out of the ring, and begins to make his way back, slapping some fives on the way. As he approaches the cameraman, he looks right to the viewer, and puts up two fingers. "That's two-and-oh, baby! Don't expect me to slow down, either!"
The two sign switches to a palm-out and Jack walks away from the camera, in a gesture not unlike the one he gave in his interview before the match. When he hits the top of the ramp, Tracks gives the audience one last roar of victory, before ducking back through the curtain.
"Wow, what a contest these two had this week!"
"You got that right! They definitely don't look like rookies, that's for damn sure."
"And for the second week in a row, Jack Tracks comes out the winner. Can he keep up this momentum all the way to his Pay-Per-View debut at Full Circle?And what of our other competitors? Keep on watching GHW Live to find out!"
With the hold starting to slip away, Tracks seems to abandon it.Instead,he takes both of his hands up to the side of Main's head, pushing it down against the mat. With Jon's skull pinned, Jack bears down with a heavy knee to the temple, which serves to squeeze even more blood from his opponent's nose. Satisfied that Main would be too dazed to get up, Tracks takes a couple steps back and starts wiping some of the blood from his arms.
"Geez, again, kid? Finish him off!"
"I think he wants to, but all that blood makes it hard to really keep a submission hold good and locked in. You saw how he couldn't keep the sleeper hold on for too long."
With Tracks busy wiping some of the blood from his arms, causing it to flick off his skin only to stain the ring with drops of crimson, Main has managed to crawl to the turnbuckle, enough of his faculties having returned to remember where he is. His hands grasp on to the bottom rope, attempting to use them to heave his body up. He gets a little higher, when Tracks goes back on the attack. His approach is a bit more confident, having been so close to victory just moments ago. As he strides forward, he suddenly stops. Main's leg had shot up, square between Track's thighs. But it wasn't like earlier. Instead of doubling over in pain, Jack's expression is one more of surprise. And in mere moments, the surprise changes to a look of anger.
The camera pans down, to see that the leg had been stopped! Jack managed to catch the foot just in time, right by the ankle. Furious at the attempt at yet another dirty tactic, Tracks throws the foot down. He brings his own boot up, and drives it down, right on the Englishman's ankle. Main shoots up in pain, trying to reach for his wounded joint. But as he instinctively sits up, his head gets caught between Tracks' hands.
"It looks like Tracks learned his lesson, but....I don't like that look in his eye..."
"I do! It's the same one he had earlier, if you ask me. I think things are about to get ugly!"
The hands that had clamped around Main's head shift behind his neck, the left forearm pushing his head up, as Jack pulls him up to his feet in a standing Cravate. He cinches the hold,and stares close-up, right in Main's eyes. His own gaze is like a heated drill, boring right through his opponent's skull. "YOU WANNA CHEAP SHOT ME, HUH?!", Tracks screams, loud enough to potentially do damage to Main's ears. He pulls down on the cravate,while bringing his knee up,nearly caving Main's nose in with a heavy impact,causing the blood to flow stronger than before. Another pair of knees crash against Main's skull,and Tracks yells to the crowd.
"YOU PEOPLE WANNA SEE HOW I TAKE CARE OF DIRTY-FIGHTING MOTHERFUCKERS?!"
The crowd roars in response, and Jack obliges. Making sure his grip is tight on the cravate, he leans back, his spine arching in a familiar curve. But unlike the suplex earlier, instead of using Main's trunks as a grab point, he's got the man by the neck. Main is heaved into the air head first, his whole body being pulled by his neck. Main's form is propelled with impressive velocity as Tracks releases him in midair, sending him flying across the ring, to meet a nasty THUD on the other side of the canvass. With the speed and angle he's thrown, the initial impact actually sends Jon skipping across the mat like a stone. But at the second landing, he seems to have gone limp.
But Tracks wastes no seconds this time. As soon as he had released Main, he rushed over to the prone body, and took him by the arm. He drags his foe into the middle of the ring, still on his stomach. Jack stands above Main, moving so the two would face the same way if Jon were able to life his head. Tracks goes to one knee,and grabs Main's arm. He wraps his own limb around it, good and tight around the forearm, causing Main's own arm to bend at a nasty outside angle. The tight lock brings the Englishman's torso up, which puts the next target within reach. Jack's other arm wraps under the chin,just high enough not to count as an illegal choke. The arms close in tightly, stretching Main's shoulder,neck, and pectorals all in painful angles and degrees. Finally, the fingers lock tightly together from both hands, completing a perfect crossface chickenwing.
But Tracks isn't done yet. With Main prone the way he was, one last touch could be put on. Track's knee shifts up from the mat, placing itself at the base of Main's spine. There, it makes for an excellent bending point for a lever made of a human body. The final touch in place, Tracks cranks back, and both men begin screaming. Jon in pain, with blood covering his face and chest. Jack in rage, whipping his head back, sending his long hair falling behind him. The referee dives down to Main's eye-level, asking him if he's going to give in at last.
"What a hold! Some sort of crossface chickenwing variation? With positioning like that, I honestly don't see how Jon Main has any other choice!"
And it seemed he didn't have a choice, after all. Between blood-curdling screams, Jon manages to choke out a "YES!" And that's all the ref needs to hear. He shoots to his feet and signals for the bell. Quickly, Jack Tracks' music hits, as "Don't Stop Me Now" blares over the sound system. But Jack doesn't seem to have heard it, the hold still locked in.
The referee runs over and rapidly taps Jack on the shoulder, telling him it's over. It takes a second for Tracks to get the message,but once he realizes that his music is being played, and the crowd cheering, he comes to his senses and lets go. Jack gets to his feet, a bit wobbly. He looks out at the crowd with a dazed look, but shakes it off, as the official announcement is made, and his hand raised.
"Here is your winner....Jaaaaaaack.....TRAAAAAAAAAAAACKS!"
The crowd erupts once more,and Tracks gives himself a smack on the face to snap out of whatever daze he was in. A smile returns to his face, albeit a tired one. Jack heads up to one of the turnbuckles, pointing out to the crowd, gauging their reactions. Satisfied, he hops out of the ring, and begins to make his way back, slapping some fives on the way. As he approaches the cameraman, he looks right to the viewer, and puts up two fingers. "That's two-and-oh, baby! Don't expect me to slow down, either!"
The two sign switches to a palm-out and Jack walks away from the camera, in a gesture not unlike the one he gave in his interview before the match. When he hits the top of the ramp, Tracks gives the audience one last roar of victory, before ducking back through the curtain.
"Wow, what a contest these two had this week!"
"You got that right! They definitely don't look like rookies, that's for damn sure."
"And for the second week in a row, Jack Tracks comes out the winner. Can he keep up this momentum all the way to his Pay-Per-View debut at Full Circle?And what of our other competitors? Keep on watching GHW Live to find out!"
