Serial vs. Big Jim © - Tables Match

[Serial]

The sold out Century Link Arena patiently lingers in their seats as the card pushes up to the second contest of the evening. Before the GHW Championship can be defended for the final time in Hardcore Heaven, before Hayden and Vladimir can meet for the first time, and before any of the other prestigious GHW titles can be defended, we must find out who will leave Nebraska with the King of the Deathmatch Championship. Before the spectators have to wait much longer for Serial and Big Jim, Charlie Coors interludes with his microphone.

Charlie Coors: The following match will be contested under Tables match rules and is for the King of the Deathmatch Championship!

As Charlie completes his statement, the cornhusker crowd is left in darkness. The arena becomes radiated with the arena’s big screen which shows highlights of Serial’s work as Flux Pavillion’s most popular tune begins to break through the sound systems!

Al Mulligan: Look at all those tables, Fuzz! I guess your mother isn’t the only one who’ll be gripping wood tonight!

Colin Jennings: C’mon Mulligan, let’s leave the action to the professionals! From what we saw last week, Serial definitely has all the tools to compete, but can he adapt so quickly to the hardcore environment?

Matthew Oliveira: Serial is a luchador, so he knows all about risks, but tonight he’ll have to take calculated risks because one mistake and he could laid out across the table like your mother has been, Colin!

Aiding in illumination are lasers which scatter throughout the arena in vivid blue shots. Soon after, the lasers sync to the music as “I Can’t Stop” picks up in pace through the sound system. The luchador breaks through the curtain soon after.

I CAN’T STOP

STOP STOP STOP

STOP STOP STOP

STOP STOP STOP

STOP STOP STOP

STOP STOP STOP

STOP STOP STOP…

Serial, decked out in black with light blue trim, earned this title opportunity by defeating six others in a Battle Royal. The Protested Hero may have all the potential in the world, but tonight, he may not be nothing more than a Christian being fed to the lions. The crowd shows very little love for the luchador, perhaps assuming that he is fodder for Big Jim on this final evening.

Jennings: The fans aren’t taking too kindly to Serial! Quite unusual considering the champ isn’t the most likeable person in the world.

Oliveira: Serial doesn’t seem like the hardcore type, but if he wants to win this evening, he’ll have to live up to his name and be a killer.

Mulligan: There’s no doubt these fans want blood, and honestly I don’t think they’d mind if it was sangre chicana that was splattered everywhere! The challenger is in hostile territory, no doubt!

Serial propels to his feet before climbing upon the nearest set of turnbuckles. The SoCal Killa’ leans against the top buckle, while holding both arms into the air! The crowd again shows little positive reaction to the newcomer, as Serial begins to scan the ringside area, taking note of the plentiful amount of woodwork. The Masked Marauder hops off the corner, before looking towards the entrance. Tonight is his chance to not only make an impact, but leave a legacy. On an evening dubbed “Rise of the Fighty fighty persons” there may not be a better possible physical representation, than the challenger in the ring.

Coors: Currently in the ring, from Reseda, California, and weighing in at 80 kilograms while standing 1.8 meters... He is the CHALLLENGERRRR!! HE ISSSS SSSSSEEEEEEEEERRRRRIIIAALLL!

OOC: Best of luck Big Jim!

[Cletus & Big Jim]

The voice of Tom Waits warbling Don't Go Into That Barn fills the arena.



His opponent hails from Black Rapids, New Brunswick Canada and weighs in at 245lbs. He is the Perverse Pulp Peeler, and the King of the Deathmatch, Big Jim!

Big Jim emerges from behind the curtain, clothed in moose skin and his trademark chains. He pays no heed to the decidedly mixed reaction of the crowd, and carries the KotDM title just above the floor.

The Deathmatch champ looks pretty intent. He surely wants to carry that title into the new territory.

Don't be so sure Fuzzie, he's said more than once that the belt means nothing to him. If I'm not mistaken, he tried to sell it.

It's a rare man that isn't looking for the strap, and the extra purse money that goes with it, but Big Jim could be that man.

As he walks down the aisle, Jim points the pulp hook at his foe, raises the belt to chest level and inquires whether this is all that the Protested Hero desires. In the ring, Serial displays a calm, emotionless, facade. He's done his homework and won't take the logger's bait. Big Jim only gives a greasy grin in reply to his challenger's silence.

Alright, prediction time fellas; who's packing the belt in their luggage tonight?

Serial went through a half dozen contenders last week, and he's an unknown quantity. Jim has alot going for him, and he may well be underestimating the opposition.

That could be Colin, but if the SoCal Killa is going to come out on top he'll have to stick and move. It's necessary that he use all of his quickness and speed to wear down the big man. Using a few equalizers in a match of this sort should also go a long way toward toppling the king.

Jim climbs the steps, sheds his fur and links, and ducks between the ropes. He locks eyes with his adversary and his steely glare is fixed from then on. The official takes the title from Jim's limp hand and folds it neatly before showing the assembled GHW faithful what is on the line in this bout.

He's got an uphill climb, and look for Big Jim to use those submission holds to stop Serial in his tracks. There's too many things the challenger has to overcome, my bet is that he'll just end up a head on Big Jim's cabin wall.

The combatants are in the ring, the time for speculation is over!

TBCB - Serial (Let's give 'em a great show)

[Serial]

The sounds of the bell scatter throughout the corn fed crowd, but before the rest of the arena can completely digest the commencement of the match, the challenger charges towards the champion like a bat out of hell! The lumberjack can’t catch the blur zooming towards, but his midsection is able to capture a knee, which forces the champion to thump into the turnbuckles, back first! While not his strikes do not aren’t the strongest or most technical, the furiously paced series of forearms, elbows, and knees force Big Jim to keep guessing and eat a few shots, while powering out of the corner! In order to make up for the slight deficiency in height, the Protested Hero pulls down the head of Jim before clubbing the back of his neck and spine! After softening the title holder a bit, Serial pushes Jim to the border of the ring before slinging him off the wall of ropes with an Irish whip!

Jennings: Serial came out here with something to prove!

Oliveira: Well this is the fight of his life.

Mulligan: And I’m sure Matthew means that in a literal sense. Deathmatches against Big Jim are just called that to sell wolf tickets, ya know?

The difference in weight classes rears its ugly head as the Black Rapids brute reverses the fling, causing the Masked Marauder to spiral towards the colorful cables instead. On the rebound, the SoCal Killa’ hopes to utilize his boost in momentum effectively, as he launches forward with a diving clothesline! Jim telegraphs the offense of Serial before he could connect, catching the luchador in the air before quickly lifting him over his head and throttling his victim towards the ring lights! The fluid flier can only remain in the air for so long before he violently crashes to the canvas! His assailant watches in pleasure as he holds the front of his body in agony!

Mulligan: Gorilla press drop! Serial had more hang time than he did with all his fancy-smansy moves from last week!

Jennings: Look at Big Jim’s face! He’s enjoying this! What a sicko!

Oliveira: If he didn’t like his job, he wouldn’t be competing here in GHW. This isn’t ballet.

His opponent scattering across the canvas, Big Jim walks down his adversary, who grabs at the lumberjack’s legs! Trying his best to pick himself up (or take Big Jim down) Serial is simply stifled as the King of the Deathmatch Champion grabs the Reseda resident by the laces on the back of his mask, before ferociously hauling his smaller rival to his feet! Dazed and confused like a coming of age classic, Serial’s guard is nonexistent as Jim propels his forearm skyward before smashing it under the chin of the SoCal Killa! The luchador reconnects with the canvas soon after, trying his best to not remain a stationary target for the defending champion!

Mulligan: He might be Canadian, but that was one hell of a European uppercut!

Oliveira: At least Serial is wearing a mask, which best hides any bruising his face may have after tonight!

Jennings: I know he’s new to GHW, but you can never discount the heart of a challenger!

As Serial lifts to all fours, Big Jim simply reminds his prey who is in control with a punting kick to his sternum! The Protested Hero flattens out to the canvas, holding his chest as he crumbles! Picking at his kill, Big Jim once again grabs at the crown of Serial before tugging him onto his feet! Grabbing his woozy foe with both hands, the heavyweight flops his enemy onto his rear-end with a snapmare! Big Jim continues his mean streak by pulling up an arm of the luchador before wrapping his legs around the neck of Serial, forming a figure four! With one leg crossing up Serial’s throat, Jim simply drops to the canvas, pulling on the arm of his enemy while simultaneously choking him out!

Mulligan: Figure-four necklock! But why, Big Jim? Serial can’t tapout, even if he wanted to!

Jennings: He’s making Serial work, submission or pinfall or not! It’ll take Serial more energy to break out of the choke, than it takes Big Jim to apply it!

Oliveira: That and I’m sure Serial is a much easier target when he’s unconscious!

The luchador reaches out towards the ropes out of instinct before realizing that there are no rope breaks. The challenger quickly considers his options, understanding that if he passes out from this choke, his alarm clock may be in the form of a table! With no rope breaks or disqualifications, Serial does the only thing any honorable man would, he tries to bite the leg that is clogging his brain’s oxygen! Before Serial can sink his teeth in, Big Jim begins to work his hips, shaking his foe and keeping him off balance, but also reducing the pressure of the choke! Using Jim’s momentum, Serial hits the switch and yanks to a side, causing the pair to flip onto their stomachs!

Jennings: This is Serial’s opportunity to get free!

Oliveira: I wonder if Serial knew that he’d avoid getting bitten?!? Or was it just a desperate attempt which just ended up being lucky?

Mulligan: You never know what kind of diseases those Mexicans have! All that menudo they eat could give them mad cow’s disease!

The pair’s prone arrangement reduces the stress across the throat of the SoCal Killa’ and instead puts pressure on the legs of the aggressor! Big Jim has no choice but to break his own hold, before crawling towards the opposite end of the ring in order to create distance between the pair! The lumberjack has no problem getting to his feet, thanks to extra motivation from Cletus! Serial is not without his own assistance, as the ropes prove their worth, even in a contest that lacks rope breaks!

Mulligan: The champ is the first to his feet!

Jennings: Serial is making use of the ropes! I wonder if he’s already getting gassed out, or if that choke emptied out his tank!

Oliveira: It might be the nerves! To fight on a card like Rise of the Fighty fighty persons in only your second match, could definitely get on one’s nerves. It doesn’t matter how much experience you have, there’s nothing like GHW!

Both men gain their composure on opposite ends of the combat zone, before compromising the safety of the corner in order to meet in the middle of the ring with a collar and elbow grapple! The tree trunk like arms of Jim wrangle around the head of the challenger, as the champ no longer tries to squeeze the oxygen to Serial’s brain, but rather just tries to squeeze out Serial’s brain! The Masked Marauder tries to pull his head out, but his efforts soon become wasted energy as Jim simply transitions into a headlock takedown!

Oliveira: Big Jim takes the fight to the canvas!

Mulligan: That’s where real men do their work! You think the Olympics has any of that hippie high flying shenanigans? No way, they want pure wrestling.

Jennings: Actually they don’t, Al! I mean wrestling will be gone at the 2020 olympics!

From the side mount, the Deathmatch King continues to pick at his challenger’s crown, but as he puts pressure on the head of Serial, he remains of ignorant of the feisty youngster’s lower body! Jim’s unawareness haunts him as the lanky legs of the luchador grapevine around the globe sized head of Jim, pulling him into a headscissors! Finally on the offense, the Protested Hero tries to condense the watermelon sized head of Jim into agua fresca! The Black Rapids brute doesn’t allow the GHW newcomer to garner any sort of momentum however, as he shows his capabilities when it comes to the more scientific elements of wrestling. Turning his head ninety degrees, Jim is better able to leverage from the headscissors and pull his head out of disarray! Lifting to a standing arrangement, the gold bearer seizes hold of both of Serial’s boots before throwing the SoCal Killa’s legs over his own head, causing him to tumble backwards and into the ropes!

Oliveira: Why didn’t Jim just jump on top of Serial and pummel him into ground chuck?

Jennings: Well, who knows what type of guard Serial has? Jim doesn’t want to get choked out or have a limb compromised.

Mulligan: That and other men don’t fight each other from missionary position! Well other than those San Francisco fairies!

Jim inaudibly communicates with Serial, taunting the now kneeling luchador to make his way to his feet. The retador has no problem gathering to a vertical before the two compass the area of the ring once again! Before they can once again intertwine with a second tie-up, the slick masked superstar pokes at the midsection of his larger foe with a middle kick, causing the lumberjack to hobble towards him! Serial gets a jumping start before wrapping his wings around the head of his adversary with a side headlock of his own!

Jennings: Now Serial is the one doing the grinding!

Oliveira: Serial can barely maintain that headlock! His reach can barely contain the girth of Jim’s head.

Mulligan: You hear that Colin? Serial is just like your mom! He can’t handle girths of big heads!

Grinding at the head of the Canadian behemoth, Serial recognizes that he can’t control Big Jim for much longer. The discrepancy in size is just too much for the challenger. Rather than go muscle for muscle, Serial attempts to trip Jim and take him to the canvas, but Jim is once again two steps ahead of him. The champion lowers his center of gravity, making it difficult for the luchador to trip Jim! The champ quickly locks in a waistlock, forcing Serial to stay on his feet. That is until, Big Jim no longer wants on his feet. Lifting the lightweight off of his heels, Big Jim practically lifts Serial into another stratosphere before plummeting backwards and causing Serial to crash neck and back first into the canvas!

Mulligan: Belly to back suplex! And Serial landed awkwardly, didn’t he Matt?

Oliveira: That suplex variation is extremely dangerous! It does so much damage to the spine!

Jennings: Jim is doing a magnificent job of keeping the match at a slow, tedious pace. It’s not the most thrilling style, but it is effective.

Big Jim looks to the outside of the ring and sees so much lumber that has yet to be properly utilized. Before he can consider his options with the woodwork, his pest of an opponent shows that he has too much fight in him. Holding the back of his neck, Serial tries to creep towards an edge of the ring in hopes of removing himself from Jim’s radar. Cletus seeing the events unfold before him, snaps Big Jim out of his lucid dream, reminding the champ of his opponent. The Canadian hustles towards Serial, yanking him upwards yet again, before hurling him forward with another snapmare!

Mulligan: A second snapmare! Serial hasn’t been planted this much on his butt since---

Jennings: Don’t say anything that you might regret later!

Oliveira: Don’t be such a buzzkill Colin! We’re on PPV, aren’t we?

Having already softened the spine of Serial, Jim hopes to force his foe into a permanent seated display, as he shanks at the luchador’s spine with a shattering soccer style kick! The Protested Hero agonizes in pain as Big Jim hastily follows up with a second soccer kick, this time to the chest of the Aerial Assassin! The masked man flat against the mat, Big Jim jogs to the ropes behind the pair, before trampling towards his target with a jumping knee! However, just before the knees can turn Serial’s head 2-D, the luchador rolls out of the way! The anvil like drop of the heavyweight impacts only the canvas, and the bent knees of the aggressor! Following his missed attack, Big Jim pulls up to a three point stance, feeling the ache in his lower limbs! While not feeling like a million dollars either, Serial rushes to his feet before attacking the unhinged Canadian with a dropkick to his chest! Stamping the pectorals of Jim with his boots, the champion collapses to the canvas before Serial can exclaim “timber!” The challenger follows his rival to the mat, as both remain planted against the canvas for the time being!

Mulligan: That’s pretty unethical of Serial! To go after a big man’s knees like that!

Oliveira: Whatever it takes to win, Al! All is fair in love and war…

Jennings: And this has been a hell of a battle! Still, it’s anyone’s game! Who can get to their feet first?

[Cletus & Big Jim]

Cheers of encouragement and jeers of scorn shower down from the rafters, as both men lay on their backs. With an impressive thrust, especially considering the substantial punishment he’s already received, Serial bounds to his feet; a nip-up that earns the respect of the crowd. Eying the champion on the rise, the challenger thinks fast and aims to showcase some aerial artistry. Hurling himself off the ropes, he plants both feet into Big Jim’s mush, and forces a curt re-introduction to the canvas. The mood is beginning to change and the upset shrugs of acquiescence that accompanied the masked man’s earlier thrashing are giving way to the brief glimmer that this is not as much a mismatch as had been thought. Eager to capitalize on the present situation, the hooded hero darts to the outside and readies a table. With legs folded and ready for transport, Serial sneaks a peak at the ring, only to find Jim on his feet and readying himself. Once again displaying a creative offence, claimant to the Deathmatch throne gathers up the table, hoists it over his head, and launches the table between the ring ropes. The front of the table collides with Big Jim’s midriff, before coming to rest on the apron, forming a ramp that the Protested Hero scales quickly, in order to re-enter the fray. Leaping from the apron to the top rope, he executes a hurricanrana on the still dazed woodsman, which leaves the crowd in no doubt of his credentials as a contender.

Serial is mounting a comeback here with some impressive combinations. As you said earlier Matt, he’s got to stick with this quick-firing offence if he wants to end up with the belt.

It’s fancy to look at, but I’m not sure how far it’ll take him. I think he’s just pissing Big Jim off, to tell you the truth.

That could be Al, but the way it looks to me is that Serial has found a gap in the champ’s armour, and he wants to exploit it while he’s got the chance. If it so happens that Jim gets a little steamed, well that could play into the challenger’s hand as well.

Serial takes only a few moments to express his appreciation to the crowd, and then urges Jim to his feet. Incensed, the Sou’West Savage is eager to reply and revenge himself, but his opponent has other plans. The moment that Jim gets his feet under him, the Aerial Assassin, scales him like a tree, stands on his back, and pulls back his arm, in a fashion similar to a fujiwara armbar. Lucha libre fans know the move as the Black Man Special, but Big Jim only knows that it hurts like Hell, and the added 176lbs on his back isn’t doing him any favours either. As the lumberman takes the first action that enters his head, namely throwing himself backward in hopes of mashing his opponent between himself and the canvas, Serial merely hops clear, and Big Jim is made to look the fool again. A charge by the titlist does nothing to aid his cause, but only sees him facedown once again on account of drop toe hold. Aiming to slow things down a little, to catch his breath and maintain control, the Masked Marauder approaches his opponent from the side. He then scissors the near arm with their legs and takes hold of the far arm with both hands, forcing Jim onto his side and placing stress on both shoulder joints.

This is a surprise to me fellas. I expected this sort of thing from Jim, but these submission-style tactics from Serial are impressive.

You’re surprised? How do you figure Big Jim feels? He’s knotted up like a pretzel, and about to be bested at his own game by a man half his size.

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves Colin, nothing is over yet.

The wounded whoops from the champion are ragged, betraying not only his agony, but also the difficulties that the hold imposes upon his breathing. Yet, in the midst of the strain there is some comfort to the burly beast, the hurt lets him know he’s still alive and gets the adrenaline flowing. As he wriggles, his eyes betray a purpose, and at once there is a sickening pop and Jim wails like a trapped animal; his shoulder has dislocated. Serial’s inexperience in the deathmatch is all too apparent at this point, where Jerry Nate or Dustin Delta would have no pity on account of the injury and surely smell blood in the water, the man behind the mask loses his focus and releases the hold, certain sure that he’s done something wrong. The momentary lapse in judgement is enough for the perverse pulp peeler to get this feet, kick the shocked pretender to his throne and deliver a DDT. Another fierce howl reverberates off the arena walls and Big Jim rolls to the outside and slams his shoulder into the cold steel of the ring post; pushing his limb back into place.

See what I mean? We saw it six weeks ago when he won the title, Big Jim will put his body on the line, if it means getting the better of his opponent. We’ve just seen how far he’s prepared to go, and it looks to me that Serial isn’t too inclined to follow him there.

The newcomer has been impressive, but it’s a lot to ask not to get rattled when a man’s arm comes loose.

If he expects to be Deathmatch King, he’ll need to do plenty more than that. This ain’t your granddaddy’s ‘rasslin’, in GHW you have to play for keeps.

Focused anew on business, Jim heaves the pressed wood of the table into the ring once again, and as his foe rises, shaking off the drop, props the table in the corner. Another stiff kick doubles over the rising grappler, before the twisted timber slayer holds both of Serial's arms under his own, and delivers a series of headbutts, battering his foe into limp-kneed capitulation. Taking his adversary into the corner opposite the wood, Jim sets to whip him to the corner and charge afterward to drive him through, securing victory. The launch goes off well, but in the instant it takes Serial to cross the ring, his gut and instinct show through clearly, and, nimbly as a jungle cat, he jumps toward the top turnbuckle, landing on the table and forcing the low end up into the face of the charging birler. Jim takes the wood full in the face, collapses as it falls back on top of him and is subject to another kick to the kisser, as Serial slides down toward him, feet first.

Oooo, I’d wouldn’t be surprised if Jim lost a few teeth in that exchange.

Serial still has plenty of fire left, and it looks to me that, at this point he’s wrestling the smarter match. He’s aware of where he is in the ring, and he’s getting the champ to expend a lot of energy.

If he keeps this up, he could be packing the title, but he had best hurry, while the time is right. That momentum can swing away from you pretty fast by times.

Rushing to seize the initiative, Serial grasps the formed steel of a ringside folding chair. Re-entering the squared circle, he clears the table away from the fallen title holder and, with amazing quickness, jumps, flips forward, slides the chair under himself and lands on his opponent lying beneath him, pressing the steel against the whistle punk’s cranium. The crowd reacts, bathing the Protested Hero in fewer protestations than he had been subject to earlier in the contest. Yet, the man in the hood isn’t through yet, he unfolds the seat and positions it with care before getting a running start, leaping onto the chair, from there onto the top ring rope, then finally performs two full backflips in the air and crashes down on the King of the Deathmatch, forcing the air, and a great groan, from his body. The challenger now decides that the time has come to cement his claim on the twisted steel, and sets up the table in the corner, much as was done before. Jim gets his feet under him, more out of instinct than any wherewithal, but Serial grasps his arm for an Irish whip. The man from Black Rapids manages to reverse the fling, sending his Latin rival into the particle board. Even so, the bull’s rush charge that Jim makes is ill-advised and leapfrog by Serial sends him colliding with the lumber, in a shower of splinters and shards.

Another blind charge by Jim goes belly up.

Don’t get too happy folks, that table breaking doesn’t count for much.

Indeed Al, this match can only end when an offensive move puts a combatant through the wood.

In confirmation of the announce team’s words, the referee is seen waving off the bell, before the timekeeper even has a chance to consider ringing it; the match continues. Big Jim emerges from the dusts and broken pieces still undaunted, and as Serial rushes to capitalize on the larger man’s impulsiveness, he becomes a victim of it himself, delivered by way of a mule kick. Jim then grasps the challenger and takes him for a slip on the ice, driving him back first unto the mat with his patented Russian legsweep. With Serial down, Jim feels a bit peckish and decides to satiate his hunger by biting the Masked Marauder, a few objecting swings are quickly dismissed by massive mitt enveloping the Serial’s throat, as Jim switches over into a choke. With the lights beginning to dim, Serial, summons his reserves and smashes his hands into the elbow joint, and, upon seeing the lumberman weaken, contorts his body so as to trap the man in a choke of his own; of the triangle variety. Now it’s the perverse pulp peeler who strains against the coming of that good night.

TBC