Post by Cletus & Big Jim on Jan 25, 2013 21:02:59 GMT -7
The Logging Crew’s introduction, courtesy of Leadbelly’s interrogative tune, is met with grudging respect from the assembled masses, in recognition of their efforts last week. As Cletus & Big Jim make their way down the aisle the catcalls are fewer and the beer baths further between. The perverse pulp peeler is still sporting a few souvenirs from his hardcore match with Nate, while the brute of bonnie Beaubears Isle still keeps an eye peeled for any of the undead.
Up the ring steps and into the ring, the two birlers have a tête-a -tête and arrive at the conclusion that Cletus ought to start things out. He and Tracks venture forward as the bell rings.
Post by Jack Tracks on Jan 27, 2013 3:21:18 GMT -7
The two starting competitors size each other up, but not before Jack gives Jerry a quick glance of slight disdain. He wasn't exactly Nate's biggest fan, and it shows. Instead, he focuses more on how he could win this match without having to co-operate too much, if possible.
The bell rings, and the two starting wrestlers approach one another, locking up in a collar-and-elbow.
"This is a bit of an odd match. While fighting the likes of Tracks and Jerry Nate is definitely a worthy test for any team, there's one definite question. Why, of all people, would our GM have put these two together?"
"There's definitely no love lost between Jack Tracks and Jerry Nate, that's for sure. These two have gone at it on more than one occasion, and have made it very clear they do not care for one another in the slightest. Quite frankly, I don't see any way they'll be able to work together enough to take on a real tag team like the Logging Crew."
"Then why put them together in the first place?"
"Who knows? Social experiment?"
In the ring, the possibly-experimental match is underway, as Jack Tracks has already gone on the move, sweeping up Cletus' leg with a swift full-angle kick to the back of the ankle. The big man goes does like a shot, much to his own surprise. Tracks leaps down on his foe for a surprisingly early pin!
Cletus powers out nice and quick, pushing Tracks up enough to send the man back to his feet. Cletus quickly stands back up, but the moment he's close to his feet, Tracks swings through with another sweep, sending the lug back down again. Another pin...
And another big kick out. The sequence repeats twice more, Cletus going down, getting pinned, and quickly kicking out. But by the fourth one, the ref manages to get all the way to 2. This time, Cletus stands up a bit slower, breathing a little more heavily. The quick pins having done their job, Tracks grins, and this time smacks the lumberjack with a big dropkick, sending him reeling back into his corner.
"A smart approach at the start. At Cetus' size, going at him this quickly is a great way to get the wind out of him."
"I gotta question just letting him get the tag, though. But maybe Jim's the one he really wanted to fight?"
Cletus grabs on to the rope and scowls back at Tracks, but before he can come charging back out, Big Jim gives him a nice slap on the shoulder, tagging himself in. Cletus looks like he's about to protest, but a couple words from Jim seem to convince him to begrudgingly agree.
Over on the other side of the ring, Jack, while still looking across the ring at his opponents, with a bit of a smug grin on his face, put his hand over his shoulder, face up, for a tag. One that never comes. After a few seconds, his expression grows a bit annoyed and confused, then turns to see Jerry Nate with his back turned, a finger shoved up his nose. Understandably, Jack's pretty peeved, but before he can start shouting at his "partner", the newly legal man comes rushing across and grabs a nice handful of Tracks' very long hair. Two handfuls in fact. He drags the King of the Road back in the middle of the ring,before stopping and yanking that hair straight down, sending the back of Jack's head crashing into a waiting knee.
"Oooh, and what you could only so generously call a miscommunication costs Tracks the momentum he started doing so well with!"
"That didn't take long to break down, did it? It's like I told you, I don't see any way these two could possibly get along. But damn, I thought they'd at least try!"
The vicious Big Jim had started putting the boots to Jack Tracks, softening him up more while he had his prey down. The stomps go all over the place, making it hard for Tracks to find the right spot to try and cover up. Eventually, Jim seems to have had enough of that, and once again drags Tracks by the hair. He throws Tracks in the corner and keeps him pinned against the bottom turnbuckle with a pressing boot under the chin. Now that Tracks was immobile, he'd make for easy pickings with no partner wanting to save him. Jim tags Cletus back in, and holds Tracks against the bottom buckle long enough for the bigger of the two mountain men to get into the middle of the ring, before charging full-steam ahead and crashing the massive weight of his knee right into Jack Tracks' face.
Tracks' face says it all. The big blow after getting boot-choked leaves him dizzy, and Cletus easily lifts him back to his feet. The beast of a man lets out a mighty yell right into Tracks' face, before getting both hands around Tracks' head and flat-out tossing him across the ring! While normally, being thrown back towards your corner is a good thing in a tag match, Tracks gets no such luck. He reaches up a hand while struggling up to one knee, just to see Jerry Nate grinning down at him, shaking his head.
"I'm not liking the looks of things for Tracks in the ring there. While I do think that, individually, Nate and Tracks could take a member of the Logging Crew in a singles match, when you're in a tag situation where your partner doesn't even care about helping you out? And against a team that actually has teamwork? That's a death sentence."
Nate's very punchable expression seems to have some sort of healing effect on Tracks, however! Seeing his partner being such a dick boils the King of the Road up, his anger being enough to get him back to his feet. Well, almost. Tracks gets up to one foot, but before he has a full footing, he feels his other foot getting pulled back by the massive Cletus! Thinking fast, Tracks grabs a rope with one hand to prevent getting pulled back. But Cletus' strength is enough that it would only be a matter of time before he gets snapped back in. Tracks will have to think fast, and looking at Nate just grinning at him seems to give him an idea.
Tracks tries to pull is his leg back with the help of the rope a few times, and makes a little progress, but Cletus just pulls right back. After a few tugs, though, Tracks does something surprising. He lets go of the rope. He's still able to keep his ground, and this time crouches his leg on the ground, building up strength for a mighty bound! His jump pays off, as the sudden take-off pulls Cletus forward, and the airborne Tracks slips out of the man's grip. But his flight is a long one, and a grin on Tracks' face could be seen from the first row as he flies forward, hand extended....
The next thing anyone knows, Jerry Nate is standing on the apron, blinking in surprise, with a nice red mark across his face! The referee slaps his hands together, indicating a legal tag! Jack Tracks rolls under the bottom rope and on to the apron, smliing, and pointing to the middle of the ring, mouthing the words.
Post by Cletus & Big Jim on Jan 30, 2013 14:12:12 GMT -7
Ooo! That’s an authority tag by Tracks!
Tension is one thing, but outright hostility is something altogether different. These guys better get on the same page.
That, or the Crew is gonna close the book on them. I hear they don’t do much reading anyway.
Jerry gives a mocking chortle as he enters the ring, expressing his amusement that the King of the Road had the stones to strike him and at the thought of how that action might be repaid at Dawn of Destruction. As Cletus rises to all fours, regaining his footing, Nate delivers a kick to the gut that sends the brawny birler to the mat and leaves him sputtering. Taking a moment for his own favoured brand of psychological warfare, Jerry kneels close enough to whisper his twisted prophecy into Cletus’ ear, likely reminding him of the horrors of the zombie horde last week, and that such terrors are only moments away, should Nate or his petrifying pater merely will it. Having delivered his message, the Satisfying One thrusts his hands toward Cletus’ face and fish-hooks him, all the while sneering at Big Jim, who stands impotently exhorting his partner.
A nasty hold, by a nasty man…
I’ll say Fuzzie, Cletus’ face isn’t much to look at, even at the best of times, but that twisted maw, courtesy of Jerry Nate, is as ugly as sin.
Cletus is no saint either; maybe he’s getting his due.
`Due’ has got nothing to do with it. Both these guys like to dish it out inside the ring, and right now Cletus has to show if he’s got it in him to take a bit of punishment.
Referee Bud Erdbuns admonishes Jerry for his street fighting tactics, which have no place in a wrestling ring. However, a devilish glare from the Nebraskan, and a low rumble under the ring, quiet the official’s objections. Big Jim urges his partner to do something substantive, but Cletus is occupied prying at Jerry’s hands. At length, he tries a different tactic, struggling to get his feet under him and lifting himself and Nate off the canvas. Sensing what he’s up to, Jerry drops the hold and, as both men reach a vertical base, lands a clubbing blow across the shoulder blades of the Beaubears bruiser. Cletus turns to give an inquisitive look at his assailant, and follows through with a clothesline, which floors the Nebraskan. Taking both of his opponent’s legs, Cletus calls for his partner’s boot, and finds Jim more than happy to extend his leg into the squared circle. Dropping down, the brute of bonnie Beaubears Isle catapults his hapless quarry into the size 14 boot of the perverse pulp peeler. Jerry’s face collides with the sole and he collapses into a heap, but he’s not out of the woods yet. With a tag, Cletus brings in Big Jim and the Logging Crew stand over a prone Nate, and, with no small amount of…satisfaction…rain their succession of double axe handles down upon him. The man from the Black Rapids quickly slaps on a reverse chinlock, laying all of his 245 pounds on the head and neck of the man who handed him defeat a week ago. Jerry’s eyes get glassy, but he can see clearly enough to spy his partner across the ring. Jack Tracks, far from encouraging his partner, is waving at him, mocking the King of the Deathmatch Champion.
This is trouble for the team of Nate and Tracks. You recall Al that Cletus & Big Jim have fought some composite teams in the past.
Positively, they play off the weaknesses of inexperienced teams. If these guys don’t want to go the way of Scally and Wolverina they’re going to have to at least hate the Crew worse than they hate each other. Of course, Jack is likely thinking long term and he sees that the more damage done to Nate in this match, the looser that Deathmatch title around his waist gets.
Are you suggesting that he would mortgage this match against the chance of winning the title at Dawn of Destruction? Jack tracks is a competitor Al, I can’t see him mailing it in ever, even if it meant a better chance at a championship. Besides, I sincerely doubt that a reverse chinlock is going to defeat Jerry Nate.
Of course, it could be that Jack is smarter, and less petty, than his actions let on, or perhaps he’s simply lucky. Either way, his brazen display fires the ardour of the corn-fed Prince of the Dead; he clamours to stand. Big Jim bears down on him all the more, but cannot prevent his opponent from raising just enough to drop down and jar the lumberman’s jaw with the crown of his head. Jim comes to his feet and turns to tag out, but Nate is there with a savage back rake that sets the weed whacker wounds of last week to throbbing and elicits a wounded whoop from the wild woodsman. Jerry grabs him around the waist, lifts him up, and falls backwards, slamming the whistle punk down to the mat shoulder and upper back first; a proficient German suplex. Opting against a pin, in favour of doling out more punishment, he splits Jim’s legs and drops an elbow between them. Another pained scream reverberates off the arena walls, melded with a collective gasp from the predominantly male audience. Gratified, Nate decides he’s done more than his share to carry Jack Tracks to victory, and makes to tag. The King of the Road calculates things differently, and as far as he’s concerned Jerry’s still in the red. He drops off the apron and waves his hands, shooing the Nebraskan back toward the action.
You were saying about what a stand-up guy Jack Tracks was?
Clearly he feels that Jerry’s got the situation in hand…
Come off it Fuzzie, he’s in it for himself. Jack’s still got something to prove, and if he can do it at Nate’s expense, so much the better.
Perhaps so, but you can bet that while these two are arguing, Big Jim is not going to waste any time tagging out.
Indeed the Logging Crew has already made use of the interval to make a quick tag and Cletus has re-entered the ring. He spins Jerry around, but finds him ready with a stunning left; Cletus lands a right of his own, but finds himself on the receiving end of three shots, each more stinging than the last, and a whip to the far corner. Nate follows him in, but gets caught in a head scissors, seconds before Cletus raises one leg and brings it crashing down on the corn husker’s cranium. Stumbling backward, Jerry next falls prey to a headbutt, which leaves him on his back. With a ring savvy, which belies his simple nature, Cletus drags Nate to the corner and clamours to the outside. He’s got something to prove after his run in with the throng of the forsaken, and his ignominious retreat, last week. He hauls the Nebraskan into the post and proceeds to smash his leg, previously perforated by the pulp hook a week ago, into the steel. Jerry lets out a stream of curses that would make a sailor blush, but that fails to faze his opposition. The pine island powerhouse locks his opponent’s leg behind the knee and then traps the other leg over the already-locked foot. He then uses his other foot to press against his foe’s knee; an Indian Deathlock best known as The Log Jam. As Cletus shouts at Nate to call it quits, and Jerry replies with wad of spittle to the face, Jack Tracks has seen enough. Nate’s taken his licks, but the Indianapolis native isn’t about to let this match get away. He rushes into the ring and gives Cletus a dropkick that effectively breaks the hold, before briskly returning to the apron in response to Bud Erdbuns’ disqualification count.
See Al, the King of the Road isn’t ready to cut and run on this match after all.
Maybe so Fuzzie, but the attack on that leg last week, and Cletus’ Log Jam, means that Jerry Nate has a bad wheel, and you can’t tell me that Jack isn’t going to keep that piece of information in the back of his mind.
Both teams now in desperate need of a tag, let’s see who can win this foot race.
As Jerry hobbles to the corner, intent on tagging out and tending to his leg, Cletus tries to make the interception, but is too slow. The fans erupt, as Nate makes the hot tag and Jack hits the ring, and the lumberjack. An impressive bodyslam shocks the burly axman and gets the crowd on its feet. A charging Jim is met with a dropkick to the leg and a swinging neckbreaker, as the GHW faithful voice their support. A nearly standing Cletus is rocked with a hip toss, before Tracks guns his engines and somersaults over the big man, snapping his neck in the process. Tracks looks to the fans and the reaction is instantaneous, as showers of cheers wash over him. Jack though, did it for himself, as much as for them. The adulation is fulfilling, but working out his frustrations on the two whistle punks is even more so, as is the thought of softening both they and Jerry Nate before the ppv. The time for flashy moves is over now though, and the erstwhile speedster decides to slow things down once again and further sap the strength of the big man. He tents his hands and places them next to his head, indicating his plan to force a nap upon Cletus. Spreading his arms he clamps them around the head of the rising timber slayer and proceeds to slow the blood to his brain. Big Jim hollers to his partner from the apron, but just as he is about to enter the fray and take matters into his own hands, Cletus drops backward and sandwiches Tracks between himself and the canvas. He casts his gaze across the fallen competitors and locks eyes with Jerry Nate, who beckons him to continue what was begun amidst blood and carnage last week. The pulp hook punisher is happy to oblige and steps through strands as Nate does likewise. The man in stripes wants no part of this fight, but verbally warns both parties to resume their positions on the outside. As their respective partners clear the cobwebs, they see Jerry spear Jim to the mat and both men begin to roll and brawl in their own private war.
Referee is losing control of this one; it’s a pier six brawl in there.
These four better be careful, or he’ll throw this whole mess out on a DQ.