[center][h2]Main Event: [color=fff200]Sexton P.S. Love[/color] vs. [color=6ecff6]Thunderbird[/color][/h2][h3][/h3] [/center][hr][hr] Sexton Love had shown up for this week's TV in considerably better shape than the week prior. In truth it was pretty much impossible for him to have looked any [i]worse[/i], so maybe it wasn't that impressive an achievement. A few days ago, he got the call from a member of the "booking committee" (or "creative team" or whatever the hell they were calling themselves these days), letting him know that he would be working the main event against Thunderbird. As far as opponents go, it was a decent choice. The Bird was a fiery babyface, with a good amount of experience working in Japan as well as in the United States. Sexton had been asked to put Thunderbird over, which of course was not a problem, and the front office knew that he had the ability to make any babyface, whether they were wearing a headdress or not, look like a million bucks. Sexton was a lot of things, but a mark wasn't one of them. Sexton stood waiting in the gorilla position. He'd been ask to go about 15 minutes, which was perfect. Just before exiting the locker room he had popped four somas (or was it five?), and knew they would take about that long to kick in. When the pills started to kick, that was his go-home signal. He probably could've just listened to time cues from the ref, but fuck that guy. Sexton's music hit and he stepped through the curtain to a mixed reaction. This week's show was in Los Angeles, and Sexton himself was a California native. He had anticipated a bit of a hometown pop, and so he had come prepared to deal with it. "The following contest is a first round match-up in the AWE World Title tournament! Introducing first, from Venice Beach, Cal--" [color=fff200]"Gimme the fuckin' mic!"[/color] As he ripped the microphone from the ring announcer's hands, Sexton hoped that his F-bomb didn't come through on television. He suspected that it did. Oh well. At least it was after 10 PM. [color=fff200]"Listen here daddeh, because I got a little somethin' for ya. This is truly a new era for American Wrestling Entertainment. A new era, with a new champion. And you know Sexton P.S. Love wants a piece of that action darlin'. This company needs me as the World's Heavyweight Champion, and you know I need that belt just as bad. Sexton Love's [i]got[/i] to have that world's title belt daddeh. He's got to have it. It's got gold on it. It's got platinum on it. It's got lead, iron, copper, and zinc! It's got uranium, and [i]TITANIUM[/i]. It's got cobalt, asphalt, your fault, my fault, SAN ANDREAS FAULT! You heard that right daddeh."[/color] Sexton lowered the mic for a moment, allowing the crowd to cheer. The line really made no sense, but it was all about delivery, just ask Superstar Billy Graham. After allowing the crowd to amp themselves up, Sexton began to speak again. It was time to bring them crashing down. [color=1f71dd][b]“Sexton Love is being oddly… polite here tonight, you don’t hear that very often from him.”[/b][/color] [color=fff200]"I've been all around the world, and I've been a champion everywhere I went. I was a heavyweight champion in Canada, Japan, Iran, and Pakistan, a champion all over the world daddeh. But you know that I was born and raised in [i]southern California[/i]."[/color] Another huge pop. [color=fff200]"And I have never, ever, learned more about what it meant to be champion than [i]last week in CHICAGO, ILLINOIS[/i]!"[/color] And there it was. [color=1f71dd][b]“Nevermind.”[/b][/color] [color=3eb489][b]“Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.”[/b][/color] The crowd turned on a dime, relentlessly booing the brash and arrogant villain. Was it cheap heat? Yes. But he was just getting started. Sexton tore off his t-shirt to reveal a [i]Chicago Cubs[/i] jersey underneath, the team that beat the L.A. Dodgers in last year's National League Championship Series. Heat didn't come much cheaper than that. [color=fff200]"I'm DOWN for the Chi-Town darlin', because Sexton Love is a [i]champion[/i], and Chicago is the [i]city of champions[/i]! Just ask the Los Angeles Dodgers! L.A. is a city of [i]losers[/i], and daddeh that just doesn't work for me..." [/color] Sexton continued ranting, but his voice was being drowned out by boos. Suddenly, the sounds of A Tribe Called Red blasted through the arena as the crowd exploded. Thunderbird rushed down to the ring, instantly bringing the fight to Sexton and sending the fans into a frenzy. The proverbial shit was on. Thunderbird took him from pillar to post, whipping Sexton across the ring and relentlessly beating him down in the corner with a flurry of punches. The Bird grabbed Sexton's jersey and pulled it off his back, holding it up high for the entire arena to see. He tore the jersey in half and threw it down as the crowd cheered. [color=1f71dd][b]“Thunderbird is doing what’s right and the fans are definitely in favor of it. Who can blame them? Sexton Love may as well have betrayed his hometown territory and committed high treason.”[/b][/color] Thunderbird turned around and was instantly met with a clothesline as Sexton exploded out of the corner. The cheers turned quickly to boos as the Lovely One began mouthing off to the fans. Looking for some payback, Sexton grabbed the Native American headdress that Thunderbird wore to the ring as part of his entrance and tore it up. He threw the shredded mess of feathers onto his opponent as he put to the boots to him, drawing even more heat. [color=3eb489][b]“Yeah, and look what he got for it? Paid back in the fullest by Sexton Love, you never take your eyes off of a wiley opponent like the Sexecellence of Sexecution.”[/b][/color] Enraged at Sexton's display of disrespect, Thunderbird began to fire up, mounting a comeback with a series of shots to the midsection. With Sexton reeling, Thunderbird came off the ropes with a full head of steam but was cut off with a boot to the face. Sexton pointed to his brain as if to say he was "outsmarting" his opponent. Classic heel move. Sexton went for a cover, but Thunderbird kicked out at two. As soon as Thunderbird lifted a shoulder off the mat, Sexton transitioned from a pinning position to a reverse headlock, wearing his opponent down. [color=3eb489][b]“And now he just keeps the pedal to the metal and closes this one out. Another feather in the cap, so to speak.”[/b][/color] [color=1f71dd][b]“Is that a reference to the headdress being torn up?”[/b][/color] [color=3eb489][b]“...Maybe.”[/b][/color] Sexton tightened his grip, looking around at some of the fans in the front row. A younger fan was wearing a Thunderbird t-shirt and a Dodgers cap. Target acquired. [color=fff200]"Clayton Kershaw sucks!"[/color] screamed Sexton, trying to get a rise out of the fan. "Let's go Thunderbird! Get him!" [color=fff200]"Shut up, kid! I'll be your new stepdaddeh!"[/color] The kid's mother was sitting right next to him. "What the hell did you just say?!? Kick his ass Thunderbird!" yelled the rather large woman. [color=fff200]"Fat broads need Love too!"[/color] This was the best part of the job. [color=1f71dd][b]“Now that’s just plain uncalled for. These fans came here to see a show, not get picked on by the wrestlers!”[/b][/color] The crowd began to clap, willing Thunderbird to break the hold. The Bird reached out with one of his arms, as if drawing on the energy of the 15 000 plus in attendance. He slowly rose to his feet, but Sexton refused to relinquish the hold. Thunderbird hit a few elbow shots to the midsection, losing his grip, and then powered him up with a back suplex! This time it was Thunderbird with the nearfall. [color=1f71dd][b]“Look at Thunderbird feeding off of the energy of the crowd! It’s beautiful.”[/b][/color] [color=3eb489][b]“I still don’t think he has it in him.”[/b][/color] Both men slowly got up, with Thunderbird having a slight advantage. He hit Sexton with a kick and set him up for a double underhook powerbomb. BAM! Sexton was slammed down in the middle of the ring. The Warpath River Plunge. One of Thunderbird's favorite moves. 1...2...Sexton barely kicked out. [color=1f71dd][b]“You were saying?”[/b][/color] [color=3eb489][b]“Two count isn’t a victory, Wade!”[/b][/color] Still in control Thunderbird grabbed Sexton with a front facelock, lifting him into a suplex position. He held Sexton up in a stalling vertical suplex, a pretty impressive feat of strength, and prepared to flip him forward into a uranage slam. He called it the Totem Pole Suplex. At the last second, Sexton countered, hooking Thunderbird with a DDT and planting him down on his head! The Impale-Her DDT! Thunderbird was rocked by the signature move, clutching his neck in pain. But the exhausted and battered Sexton was unable to capitalize right away. Finally, he crawled onto the cover. 1...2..Thunderbird kicked out! Frustrated, Sexton got up to his feet. He slapped Thunderbird across the head, yelling at him to stay down. [color=fff200]"You see this? This is the real Thunderbird, right here!"[/color] Sexton pointed down at his crotch, then slapped his opponent again. [color=3eb489][b]“Sexton nearly had him there! And look at him taking the time with his opponent, taunting him.”[/b][/color] [color=1f71dd][b]“Need I remind you that a two count isn’t a victory, [i]Kane[/i]?”[/b][/color] Hooking Thunderbird's legs, Sexton bridged backwards into the Love Lock, essentially his own version of the legendary Muta Lock. He wrenched back on Thunderbird's injured head and neck, thrusting his bridging pelvis upwards repeatedly. Still feeling the effects of the DDT and earlier headlock, Thunderbird desperately crawled for the ropes to break the devastating hold. By now the crowd was fully in The Bird's corner, cheering him on to keep fighting. Thunderbird outstretched his hand, looking like he may tap out, but managed to pull himself just a little further and grab the bottom rope. The referee ordered Sexton to break the hold, but Sexton kept it applied for a few extra seconds. More heat. Looking to finish things off, Sexton lifting up Thunderbird by his injured neck, and called for the piledriver. As he set his opponent up, Sexton's gaze found the same enthusiastic young fan in the front row. [color=fff200]"I'm gonna break his damn neck!"[/color] [color=3eb489][b]“Here comes the end, see ya Thunderbird. Come back Wednesday, maybe you can open the show.”[/b][/color] The hesitation cost him, as Thunderbird exploded with a back body drop, countering the piledriver! 15 000 strong collectively lost their shit as the babyface fired up for his comeback. Thunderbird began a Tatanka-like war dance, strutting around the ring and ramping up the crowd. [color=1f71dd][b]“You never take your eyes off of your opponent, that was a rookie move from Sexton, taunting the crowd like that.”[/b][/color] Sexton fed in for a series of knockdowns and bodyslams as the Native American warrior built momentum. Sexton fell down to his knees, begging and pleading for mercy. The babyface balled up his hand into a fist but Sexton grabbed the ref by his shirt and pulled him in between them like a human shield. Thunderbird shoved the ref aside and grabbed Sexton, but Sexton quickly hit him with a lowblow! Having been thrown out of the way by Thunderbird himself, the ref wasn't in a position to see it. [color=1f71dd][b]“Not again! We just saw a tourney match end like that last week!”[/b][/color] [color=3eb489][b]“Shut up, Wade! You do what you need to do to win the damn tournament and take the AWE World Title home! Where I come from, cheater is just a fancy word for winner.”[/b][/color] [color=1f71dd][b]“Remind me to never go where you’re from.”[/b][/color] [color=3eb489][b]“We don’t want you anyway.”[/b][/color] Boos began raining down, as the crowd sensed where the match was headed. With a smirk on his face, Sexton lifted Thunderbird up for his finishing move, the [i]Sexecutor[/i]. He elevated Thunderbird into a torture rack position, relishing the moment. One last time, he looked at the fan at ringside. [color=fff200]"It's all over daddeh!"[/color] Suddenly, Thunderbird trapped both of Sexton's arms form the torture rack position and rolled backwards! He countered the Sexecutor into a crucifix pin! Caught in the rollup, Sexton kicked his legs in panic, trying to break free of the pinning predicament! 1...2...3! Thunderbird had won the match! [color=1f71dd][b]“Again looking away from the business at hand! Too caught up in making sure the fans know he hates them, Sexton Love just got eliminated the AWE World Title tournament!”[/b][/color] [color=3eb489][b]“Even I have to hand it to Thunderbird, he took his shots when he could, and now he moves forward.”[/b][/color] Thunderbird rolled out, leaving an utterly shocked and stunned Sexton Love in the ring. The triumphant babyface walked up the ramp, his arm raised in victory as the announcer confirmed the result. "Ladies and gentlemen your winner, THUUUUUUUUNDERBIRD!" And not a moment too soon, as Sexton's somas began to kick.