J-1 Pinnacle - Block A - Round Two - Satyros vs. Bradley

[Kip Whistler]

Round Two in Block A:
Omega Satyros (1) vs. Bad Luck Bradley (2)

[Bad Luck Bradley]

The lights dim, spotlights hit the ramp and our favourite Lady Gaga remix hits:



Brad's here, limping on, but leaving the IV on the ramp. He strips off bandages and plaster, forcing officials to pick them up, rolling their eyes the whole time. Rod C gets on the mic:

Rod C: The following contest has a twenty-minute time limit and is scheduled for one fall.

The crowd roars, "ONE FALL!"

Rod C: Introducing our first competitor... Bad! Luck! Brad! Ley!

Bradley is waving to the crowd, grinning and hiding a wince or two as he moves his body in a painful way. He ascends the steps Lady Gaga belts out, "I want your love and I want your revenge, you and me could write a bad romance!" The crowd blasts away at the lyrics and Bradleys, foolishly, believes that it is for him.

The song rolls to halt and Brad slides out of the ring, painfully, allowing his opponent to make his entrance.

[Omega Satyros]

Andromeda begins playing, and Omega makes his way to the ring.

LeRay: After the end of last weeks match, I'm sure Omega's not going to go easy on Brad.

Beeman: Idiot only has his own damn self to blame.

LeRay: Which way are you leaning with this match.

Beeman: Ideally neither of them would get any points here.

Omega gets into the ring, and waits for Brad to get back in. Brad reenters, and referee Jay Fairweather calls for the bell.
Omega wastes no time laying Brad out with a Satyr Kick and going for the pin.

Beeman: Omega unfortunately seems to have learned from last week, wanting to finish this quickly.

LeRay: But Brad manages to kick out at 2!

[Bad Luck Bradley]

When Brad kicks out, he rolls up to one knee but Satyros has already sprung off the ropes with a quick knee to the bad luck wrestler's face. Another pin, another kickout. This time, Satyros wastes no time in hitting a few quick dropped elbows onto Brad. Another pin, a third kickout. Satyros hammers the mat in frustration.

Beeman: What is he up to?
LeRay: Think about it, Sean: every time Satyros goes for the pin, Bradley is having to bench press 198lbs. Even the best, strongest competitor in the JWA can only do that so many times.

Bradley shakes his head and tries to get rid of the cobwebs. He's up to his feet and leans on the ropes, catching his breath. Satyros is frustrated, angry and, for some reason, has it out for Bradley. He bolts at Brad, who somehow ducks a lariat attempt. In return, Brad hits a superkick and-

Beeman: Oh my!

Bradley's boot just slips by Satyros' head and the time-traveller grips the ankle, locking the leader of the Bad Luck Bros. He storms forward, forcing Brad to hop backwards until he is pressed against the ropes. With a quick snap, Satyros whips Brad into a fisherman suplex. As Brad bounces off the mat, Satyros goes for a pin but Brad keeps rolling until he's out of the ring, wincing and holding his bruised ribs, surely broken from the brutal attacks.

LeRay: As usual, Brad runs away.
Beeman: He's a silly good, Mick, and that's all I can say about that.

Brad moves away from the ring enough to catch his breath. Without missing a beat, Satyros bolts towards the turnbuckle closest to Brad.

LeRay: What is that madman doing?
Beeman: He's dominating is what he's doing!

Satyros jumps up onto Bret's rope (the most dangerous rope) and springs to the top rope in a spinning hop, his back facing Brad. With an effortless release, he hits the Satyr Sault. Brad, never known as a catch-as-catch-can wrestler, takes Satyros full in the face. The crowd rises in a chant. Both men are laid out outside the ring.

[Omega Satyros]

LeRay: You know, I think that's the first kind word you said about Omega.

Beeman: Have you seen Omega deliver this kind of brutality before? I can't stand the guy, but it's fun watching him go so brutally after Brad.

Omega rolls Brad back into the ring, and nailing a rolling Satyr Kick as Brad was starting to get up. He goes for the pin.

LeRay: And Brad manages another kick out.

Beeman: Christ man, Brad, just give it up at this point, or you'll have to spend the rest of the pinnacle in the hospital like Conor Caine.

LeRay smacks Beeman after that.

LeRay: Seriously Sean? Way to soon.

Beeman: Ok, you got a point about that one.

Omega picks Brad up and plants him with a Bad Luck Bomb. When Brad somehow kicks out again Omega looks like he'd be pulling out his hair if it wasn't under his mask.

Omega: I saw you with an IV bag in Killie's earlier today! WHY THE **** WON'T YOU STAY DOWN?!

LeRay: The frustration must be getting to Omega if we can hear him shouting in the ring.

Beeman: Giving the censors work, but can you blame him. Brad should've forfeited this match when he got to the arena today.

[Bad Luck Bradley]

Bradley is lying face down. His breathing is concussive, explosive, his sweat flooding the area around him.

Beeman: Using Brad's own finisher on him!
LeRay: It really shows how weak the Bad Luck Bomb is if it doesn't even keep down the person who specialises in it.
Beeman: Satyros is making Brad look like a real chump here.

Satyros strides over and lifts Brad by the hair, Irish-whipping him into the corner. There is such force behind the throw that Brad's chest cracks against the turnbuckle and his stands there, leaning on it, his legs given out, held up only by the steel.

LeRay: We're witnessing a beating, not a wrestling match.
Beeman: I can't look!

Satyos grabs Brad from behind. The bad luck wrestler attempts a few weak elbows but Satyros replies with one of his own, knocking Brad for six. He lifts Brad up as if hitting a backdrop or atomic drop.

LeRay: Such strength!

The Mask, The Myth, The Legend drops Brad onto the top of the turnbuckle and walks over to the nearest corner.

Beeman: What is this madman, masked man, mental man doing?

Satyros, in one powerful leap, lands atop the turnbuckle and spins to face Brad. One long top rope is what divides them. Satyros stomps his foot rhymically.

LeRay: He couldn't be...!

It all happens so quickly.

Beeman: He is!

Satyros, in three quick steps, tightrope-runs over the top rope before whipping a cracking foot into the back of Brad's head. The leader of the Bad Luck Bros is propelled from his seating position and lands in the crowd, scattering men, women, children, chairs, popcorn, drinks and barriers like a set of bowling pins. The rest of the crowd rise to see the crater of human wreckage. Satyros lands in the ring. Brad does not move.

[Omega Satyros]

Omega turns to Fairweather to begin counting.

LeRay: Forget the count, someone needs to check on Brad. 

Beeman: Luckily, if I saw it correctly, the fans were able to scatter away from his landing site, like a hated concert goer going for a crowd surf.

Jay Fairweather was hesitant in his count, as medical staff came down and started to help Brad to the back. They were beside the ring when Fairweather his 8, and Brad shrugs the handlers off, barely managing to beat the 10 count. Omega was practically seeing red at this point, and went for the pin immediately, it being a rope break by virtue of Brad only just barely being in the ring, his legs still under the ropes.

Beeman: I'm not sure whose madder, the guy who looks set closer to ending Brad's life than ending his J-1 Pinnacle run, or the guy who keeps getting back up to continue the fight.

LeRay: I swear, where did this side of Omega come from. I get frustrations over how he missed out on beating Conor Caine, and then missed out on a point from putting Arizona Chance away. I get those boiling over, but this, this is just barbaric.

The crowd rained a chorus of boos down on Omega, who upon hearing it seemed to snap back into the moment. Troglo rushed down to the ring as Omega rolled out. Neither the audience nor the announcers could hear their discussion.

Beeman: What the hell Omega? You can't afford to let this vicious streak end. You're letting the clock slip by again.

LeRay: He has more than 10 minutes left in this match, and genuinely, I'm not sure how Brad would continue this match anyways. Hearing those boos come out against him seemed to make Omega aware of just the brutality he had been unleashing.

Omega climbed back into the ring at Fairweather's call of 7, Brad having just managed to use the ropes to get himself back on his feet.

[Bad Luck Bradley]

Brad is on his feet, punch-drunk and seeing double. He spins in a circle and leans against the ropes, aiming his feet in roughly the direction of Satyros.

Both men glare, one with better aim than the other.

Satyros looks down at Troglo, who roars some words of encouragement. Satyros strides into the centre of the ring and gestures for Brad to join him.

Brad, however, is finding difficulty putting one foot in front of the other.

Satyros slides out of the ring and leans into the crowd, picking up two of the scattered chairs from Brad's crowd dive. He tosses them into the ring, slides back in and sets them up facing each other, centre stage, sitting in one. Eventually, Brad's vision refocuses enough to stumble to his own seat.

Two warriors, two battered beasts, one from beyond time and the other from beyond space.

Satyros, quick as a hiccup, rears back and fires a quick slap onto Brad. The bad luck wrestler almost topples, but wipes the spit from his split lip and releases a cracking smack onto Satyros. The two trade blows, chest chops (WOO!), uppercuts, rights, lefts, hooks, headbutts and eye gouges. Finally, both men lock up. One, then the other, stands - first to their feet, then on top of the wobbling chairs. Satyros attempts a suplex, but the chair isn't stable enough. Brad tries to break free and then, at once, both men spin and collapse in a swinging neckbreaker, chairs flattened as the men twist through the air and crash to the ground. Neither man moves. It is unclear who got the brunt of such a move.

[Omega Satyros]

LeRay: What a move

Beeman: More like what was that move.

Brad is the first to his feet, and takes a second to catch on and go for the pin, Omega immediately springing into a roll-up, which Brad just manages to kick out from.

Beeman: Brad is just insane. Just accept the pin and live to fight another day.

LeRay: What else does Omega have in his pocket to try and finish him off?

Omega throws Brad in the corner Jay Fairweather was positioned in before planting Brad with Exodus of Helios, which the crowd counted at least 5 before Omega let go of the pin to get Fairweather back in action. Upon the official pin Brad managed to get a hand on the bottom rope, and Omega began arguing with Fairweather.

Beeman: Last thing Omega wants is to be yet another guy getting screwed over by the ref when it comes to Brad's matches.

LeRay: But still, Brad keeps managing to keep in this match, gotta commend the resilience.

Beeman: No you don't, at some point, you gotta accept it's not your night, and you need to keep the whole J-1 Pinnacle in mind. 

[Bad Luck Bradley]

Bradley stumbles to his feet, Satyros still yelling at the official. The ref points over Satyros' shoulder to the swaying bad luck wrestler. Tentatively, they two men - slick with exertion, red with bruises, huffing from defying defeat - take a step forward and-

Beeman: Why didn't Fairweather clear the ring?

The flattened chairs are still there. Unusable as either furniture or weapon, not able to be seated upon nor swung. The two grapplers step onto them as one. Thinking the same thing, they quickly grip each other.

What follows is a series of chain wrestling, reversals and counters. A headlock is spun into an arm drag is whipped into an attempted lariat is ducked into a full nelson is released into a front-face lock.

Eventually, Brad gets a lucky strike in and, from behind hits a low angle bulldog on Satyros, crashing both men into the chairs. Brad is up first.

LeRay: Surely that's an illegal manoeuvre!
Beeman: The official doesn't agree.

Brad doesn't wait to find out. Limping over to the corner, he readies himself for a flying elbow. However, when he climbs to the top, he turns to find Satyros already on his feet.

Time slows.

Brad can no longer make the leap and he doesn't have the speed or wherewithal to change to another move quickly enough. Satyros jumps, his strong legs propelling him through the air where he lands on the top rope, his arms around Brad.

LeRay: Both men are gonna fall!
Beeman: Cover my eyes!

But no, Satyros has angled himself so his propulsion is absorbed by the tension of the rope. He uses this energy to propel himself into a Satyr Sault - while holding onto Brad.

LeRay: Spanish Fly!

Indeed, as Satyros backflips, he drags Brad with him in a somersault. The pair seem to hang in mid air, suspended by invisible strings, gently gliding until both until they crash to the mat - on top of the chairs - to a tremendous cheer from the crowd.

A chant rises. A second. Duelling chants. Fairweather checks on both men. He begins a ten count. Th

[Omega Satyros]

The audience is chanting "Let's go Bradley! O-Me-Ga!" back and forth. 

LeRay: Which will win out, the fight of Omega or the resilience of Brad?

Beeman: Is, is Brad even breathing?

Omega, rather than fighting to his feet, drag himself over to Brad, his back a stinging red from the impact with the chairs. He drapes an arm over Brad. Nothing but instinct can explain how Brad managed to just get his shoulder off the mat.

Beeman: How? How does he kick out of that? 

LeRay: I can't say, the will of Bradley is truly inspirational.

Beeman: Makes sense the guy who got jumped by Winter Hex and had his $5 million prize stolen would see Bad Luck Bradley as an inspiration.

Omega drags himself and his opponent to their feet. He goes for an Irish Whip into the corner, but Brad's legs give out, the Bad Luck Wrestler crumpling to the mat.

[Bad Luck Bradley]

Omega, tries his hardest to pull Brad to his feet, but the match has drained them both. He can only get the bad luck wrestler to his knees, and so Satyros falls to his knees too. The pair of them face each other, holding onto one another, gripping for dear life. It it a romantic image, one of two exhausted souls, each unwilling to allow the other to win, unwilling to allow themselves to lose, unwilling to allow this match, these feelings, the crowd, to disappear into the aether, like dust in the wind, tears in the rain.

Rod C. gets on the mic, intoning:

Rod C: Three minutes remaining.

[Omega Satyros]

Omega glared across the ring, the time left on the clock ringing in his head. He rode to his feet, letting out a furious yell as he charges Brad, delivering a jaw-shattering knee.

LeRay: Nothing about the clock this week.

Beeman: What is there to say? This match should've ended at least two dozen times already.

Omega drops into another pin, only for Fairweather to break it up because Brad's arm fell out the bottom rope.

[Bad Luck Bradley]

As Satyros is about to unhook Brad's leg, the bad luck wrestler tightens his quads and locks the knee, pulling on Satryos' arm.

Beeman: What is this? A submission?
LeRay: None I've ever seen. Brad is really scraping the barrel here.
Beeman: They both are! They've got nothing left to give!
LeRay: I've never even seen Brad use a submission before!

Satyros, stoic as ever, betrays no pain behind his mask. Still, Brad holds on. Fairweather considers whether to break up the hold after five seconds or let them both hug it out for a while.

[Bad Luck Bradley]

Satyros wriggles free of Bradley's grip and makes his way to his feet. Brad follows and the pair stand centre stage. Satyros turns his back on Brad, rockets off the ropes and hits the big shoulder. However, the length of the match, the intensity and the pain both men feel lowers the power behind the shoulder barge. Brad does the same, but has a similar effect. Both men stand.

Rod C: One minute remaining.

At once, Satyros and Brad turn their backs and run the ropes, building up speed. They shoot back and forth, criss-cross and half miss each other, moving ever faster and faster until their movements are a blur.

Rod C: Thirty seconds remaining.

Satyros swings the big arm but both men are moving so fast that it barely clips Brad. Undeterred, Satyros stops dead in the ring, attempts a second swing -

And misses again!

Brad has slipped - or tripped, some might say - behind his opponent, whipped his arm around Satyros' throat like a slingblade and pauses for a second to take a breath before lifting Satyros up.

Beeman: Oh my!
LeRay: What is this?
Rod C: Fifteen seconds remaining.
LeRay: I've never seen Brad use that move before!
Beeman: It's a reverse brainbuster!
LeRay: I know what it is, I just never thought I'd see a man like Brad use it.

As the timer counts down to the final seconds, Brad crashes to the ground, driving the back of Satyros' head into the mat. He instinctively goes for the cover, but as the bell rings, the crowd is left unknown whether or not this is a pinfall or a countout victory.