Whiplash 26 (Incomplete)
(Copyright information flashes on the screen. We go into highlights of the Tony Ikeda, and Walter Melon feud spanning many years, including their fight over fruit, and at the end focusing on the world championship. We open up to an introduction screen that welcomes us to Whiplash 2026. Pyrotechnics blasts on the stage in the darken arena. Pyrotechnics end, an the lights turn on. Fans yell, and wave their signs. The cameras gets a few shots of the crowd. The camera zooms out to display the location information. We get one more shot of the crowd as the commentators speak over the shot.)
JR-Welcome to the 2026 edition of Whiplash. I’m good ol’ JR, Jim Ross. I’m joined by Jerry “The King” Lawler, and Kris “KG” Gaffney.
King-Tonight Tony has lived long, but tonight he faces GOD!
Kris Gaffney-Yeah, why does he show up at all.
King-Wasabi would be pointing out since this is in text you can’t see your being sarcastic…
JR-Lets get started with the first match of the night.
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The arena lights dim, and the opening beats of NSYNC's "Bye Bye Bye" blast through the speakers. As soon as the first note hits, bright spotlights flash in sync with the music, and a thick cloud of smoke rises from the stage. The crowd immediately erupts in a mix of cheers and laughter, knowing they’re in for something special. As the beat drops, multicolored fireworks explode around the stage, and through the smoke, Patrick Payne bursts out, dancing his way onto the stage like he’s straight out of a 90s boy band video. Patrick starts hitting the iconic "Bye Bye Bye" choreography, exaggerated and dripping with his own flavor. He smirks at the camera, pointing at random fans in the crowd, and moving with the beat like he’s starring in his own music video. He stops midway down the ramp, faking a pause, and then launches back into the dance, arms waving and hips moving as the crowd sings along to the chorus.
EMF Ring Announcer: From wherever he damn well pleases, standing 6 feet 1 inch tall, weighing in at 210 pounds he is the unpredictable, the unstoppable, Patrick ˜The PP Express Payne!!!
As the music continues, the lights flash in rhythm, and Patrick slides into the spotlight, twirling and dipping to the beat. Nearing the ring, he stops for a second, tilts his head toward the camera, and breaks into a final burst of the dance, fully embracing the ridiculousness of it all. Without breaking his flow, he leaps over the top rope with a fluid, acrobatic jump, landing in a perfect roll before bouncing right back into the Bye Bye Bye dance inside the ring. Patrick moves effortlessly, finishing his routine by running up the turnbuckle, arms wide, and executing a picture-perfect backflip off the top rope. As his feet hit the mat, he drops into a flawless superhero landing, kneeling down, one fist on the ground, with a cocky grin stretched across his face. He rises slowly, arms outstretched, soaking in the crowd’s reaction, while the music fades and the lights settle back to normal. The camera zooms in as Patrick winks at the audience, mouthing, "You’re welcome!" before leaning casually against the ropes, waiting for his match to begin.
JR-Patrick Payne, and Jackson Gunner have had quite the history.
King-Getting a belt would be big for Patrick.
Kris Gaffney-Thus proving the power of friendship!
Suddenly, the powerful tones of “Twilight of the Thunder God” by Amon Arnath engulfed the arena. Lights went pitch black for a moment, and when they return, they danced in a patriotic sequence of Red, White, and Blue while sparks rained down from the ceiling. The camera panned around quickly, searching for the source of the entrance, finally setting halfway up the stands in the crowd. There stood Jackson Gunner followed by Wade Wilson, surrounded by a sea of ecstatic fans. The crowd’s roars intensified as he tore off his tank top, throwing it to a lucky audience member. In a gesture of sheer energy, he beat his chest and threw his hands into the air, forming an X, signaling his readiness for battle as his Championship drapes over his shoulder.)
JR-Jackson Gunner has had tough matches, but his history with Patrick Payne knows this is going to be one of the more difficult ones.
King-But that probably has only driven him to prepare even harder.
[Jackson Gunner and Patrick Payne lock up, Jackson Gunner puts Patrick Payne into an arm bar, Patrick Payne is able to counter with an arm drag. Jackson Gunner gets up to his feet. Patrick Payne runs towards Jackson Gunner, Jackson Gunner counters with a hot shot that sends him into the top rope. Patrick Payne stumbles, and he gets knocked down with a short arm clothesline. Jackson Gunner connects with a few fists to the face that knocks him backwards. Jackson Gunner tries to whip Patrick Payne, but it’s reversed. Jackson bounces off of the orpes. Patrick Payne lowers his head, but it’s countered with a running DDT into the mat. Jackson Gunner goes into the cover on Patrick Payne, the ref counts 1……….2…….KICK OUT by Patrick Payne!!]
JR-Patrick Payne was able to kick out at the last moment.
King-This train is still on it’s tracks.
Kris Gaffney-Guess he needs to keep going.
[Patrick Payne is slow to get up to his feet, and Jackson Gunner tries to go for a german suplex, but it’s countered with a few elbows, Patrick Payne is able to go behind Jackson Gunner. Jackson Gunner connects with a front Russian leg sweep that puts down Patrick Payne. Patrick Payne falls to his knee’s, he takes a few moments to rest up, he see’s Jackson Gunner in the corner. Patrick Payne runs towards the corner, and he connects with a clothesline in the corner. Jackson Gunner stumbles out of the corner, and Patrick Payne picks him up, and he connects with a falling slam. Patrick Payne goes to the outside of the ring, and he climbs up to the top rope, and he connects with the flight risk!! Patrick Payne goes into the cover. The ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1…………2…….KICK OUT by Jackson Gunner!!]
JR-Jackson Gunner was moments away from losing the TV championship.
King-I’m certain he’s not shocked the fight Patrick is giving.
[Patrick Payne is slow to his up to his feet, and he measures up as Jackson Gunner is getting up, and he sets up Jackson Gunner for the Pay Per View he lifts him…but at the last moment Jackson blocks it, Jackson lifts up Patrick, and he drops him with the Burning Samaon!! Jackson Gunner goes into the cover on Patrick Payne. The ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1………..2………3!!]
JR-With a last moment counter, Jackson Gunner defends his championship.
The arena dims—clean and sharp. No theatrics. Just focus. Then—
“Return of the Mac” hits with that unmistakable groove.
The bass kicks in. The crowd pops.
They know what time it is.
Little Mac steps through the curtain.
He’s wearing a sleeveless hoodie—unzipped, hood down—his hands wrapped tight in black tape, knuckles calloused and exposed.
He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, shadowboxing lightly, eyes sharp, focused. He’s not playing to the crowd—he’s staying loose, staying ready.
Behind him, cool and steady, is Doc Louis, gum in his mouth, towel over one shoulder, nodding like he’s seen this win already.
Mac moves with confidence. Controlled swagger.
Taps his fists together as he walks.
No flash. No posturing. Just presence.
The strobe lights hit light gold and white as the beat pulses, but never overwhelm—because Mac’s energy doesn’t need dressing up.
The fans reach out—he slaps a few hands, nods to others, but he never stops moving. His rhythm is the beat of the ring.
He slides into the ring clean and low, pops up in one fluid motion, and immediately circles the ropes once—keeping his hands moving.
A short jab. A sidestep.
Always working. Always tuned in.
He hits the corner turnbuckle, hops up to the second rope, and raises one wrapped fist in the air—no grin, no posing. Just a statement:
“You’re stepping into my fight now.”
Samantha Irvin fires off with intensity:
"Making his way to the ring… accompanied by Doc Louis… from the Bronx, New York… weighing in at 200 pounds… he is THE PRIZE FIGHTER… LITTLLLLLLLEEEEE MAC!"
Mac drops down, rolls his shoulders, paces back to his corner. Doc gives him a nod, mutters something low.
Mac taps his fists together, leans into the ropes, and eyes his opponent like a sniper finding range.
He doesn’t flex.
He doesn’t scream.
He fights.
And you’d better pray your chin holds up.
(Mac has a Kendo stick)
Jim Ross: Little Mac has heart, speed, and courage, but tonight he is walking into The Dungeon Master’s kind of environment. Hardcore rules for the EMF Extreme Championship.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: That means no excuses, JR. No disqualifications, no countouts, and no whining when somebody gets hit with furniture.
Kris Gafney: Little Mac brought a kendo stick. The Dungeon Master probably brought an inventory screen.
The arena is plunged into eerie darkness. A single spotlight beams down on the entrance stage, revealing an enormous 20-sided die (D20), its numbers glowing with arcane energy. The haunting opening chords of “Binks’ Sake” start to play, gentle and mysterious, the crowd immediately clapping along.
Suddenly, on the massive LED screen, a colossal animated dragon bursts forth—its scales shimmering violet and gold. It coils and roars, unleashing a torrent of digital flame straight down the ramp. As the fire rushes forward, spotlights follow, making it seem as if the very ramp itself is set ablaze, leading to the ring.
At that moment, from beneath the stage, a ring of real flames erupts. Rising through the fire, guitar in hand and bathed in flickering orange and purple light, stands The Dungeon Master. He strikes a rockstar pose, head thrown back, hair wild, the guitar gleaming across his chest. The arena explodes with cheers.
He launches into a flamboyant air guitar solo, strutting to the music, every step in sync with the rolling animation of the D20, which now tumbles down the ramp in perfect time with his movement—projected to look as if it’s rolling just ahead of him, leading the way to destiny.
Each of his steps triggers a cascade of lighting effects—arcane runes illuminate underfoot, bursts of fireworks erupt from the ramp, and shooting flames flare on either side. He spins and dances, encouraging the crowd to join in, then leaps onto the ring apron, pausing to soak in the roaring energy of the fans.
With a grand flourish, he vaults into the ring, landing center stage in an epic rockstar stance. He rips a final, thunderous strum on his guitar—at that precise moment, golden sparks rain down from the rafters, surrounding him in a shimmering storm, as purple and gold spotlights swirl around the ring.
As the music fades, the dragon on the screen loops and lands atop a mountain of dice, bellowing one last time as flames curl around the frame.
Announcer: Making his way to the ring… hailing from the Astral Plane… but Louder! Weighing in at two hundred and twelve pounds… he is the BARD of BRUTALITY… the MASTER of MAYHEM… THE DUNGEON MASTER!
The Dungeon Master drops to one knee, raises his guitar like a legendary sword, and flashes a wild, infectious grin as the crowd erupts—his legend already unfolding before the match has even begun.
Jim Ross: That is the title, and that is the danger. The Dungeon Master has thrived in matches where pain is part of the strategy.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: He does not just play the game, JR. He writes the rules, then removes them.
Kris Gafney: Tonight the rulebook is under the ring, probably dented.
(Dungeon Master grabs a chair)
[The bell rings and Little Mac charges first, swinging the kendo stick with quick, snapping strikes at The Dungeon Master’s legs and ribs. The first shot cracks across the thigh. The second catches the ribs. The third is blocked by the steel chair, the impact echoing through the arena. The Dungeon Master steps forward behind the chair like a shield, forcing Mac backward. Mac circles, darts in, and whips the kendo stick at the shoulder, but The Dungeon Master swings the chair sideways and clips Mac in the arm. The kendo stick drops. Mac shakes out the pain and goes back to his fists, slipping under a chair shot and firing a left-right combination to the ribs. The Dungeon Master absorbs the body shots and swings again, but Mac ducks, hits the ropes, and dropkicks the chair into the champion’s chest.]
Jim Ross: Little Mac using speed and precision early. He cannot let The Dungeon Master settle into control.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: He also cannot punch a chair forever, JR. Chairs do not get tired.
Kris Gafney: Chairs have cardio for days.
[The Dungeon Master staggers into the ropes, and Mac grabs the fallen kendo stick again. He unloads with three quick shots across the champion’s back, each crack pulling a louder reaction from the crowd. The Dungeon Master drops to one knee. Mac backs to the corner, measures him, and rushes forward for a running strike, but The Dungeon Master suddenly lifts the chair and throws it into Mac’s path. Mac catches it against his chest just long enough for The Dungeon Master to rise and boot the chair straight into him. Mac collapses to the mat, clutching his ribs, and the champion slows everything down immediately. He drags Mac to the ropes, places the chair across Mac’s stomach, and drops a knee onto the steel, driving metal into midsection. Mac rolls away gasping as The Dungeon Master covers. One. Two. Mac kicks out.]
Jim Ross: That is where the champion is so dangerous. One counter, and the match becomes his pace.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: That is championship intelligence. He turned Little Mac’s opening round into a bad investment.
Kris Gafney: Mac bought momentum and got charged interest in steel.
[The Dungeon Master leaves the ring and begins searching beneath it with patient cruelty. He pulls out a trash can, tosses it over the top rope, then adds a second chair and a coiled chain. The crowd buzzes as he slides back inside and places the trash can near the corner like he is setting a trap. Mac starts to rise, still holding his ribs, and The Dungeon Master wraps the chain around one fist. He swings, but Mac slips the punch and fires a quick hook to the liver, then another to the jaw. The champion staggers. Mac grabs the trash can, jams it over The Dungeon Master’s upper body, and unloads with a rapid series of body punches into the metal. The crowd counts along as Mac hammers away, denting the can around the champion’s ribs. Mac backs off, hits the ropes, and lands a running dropkick that sends The Dungeon Master crashing backward into the corner under the trash can.]
Jim Ross: Little Mac is fighting like a man possessed. He knows this may be his best chance to win the EMF Extreme Championship.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: He better enjoy it now. The Dungeon Master does not stay trapped long.
Kris Gafney: Trash can armor sounds good until somebody tests the warranty.
[Mac yanks the trash can free and goes for the cover. One. Two. The Dungeon Master kicks out hard enough to shove Mac off. Mac wastes no time, climbing to the second rope with the dented trash can in hand. He leaps, driving the can down toward the champion, but The Dungeon Master rolls aside at the last second and Mac crashes knees-first into the steel. The impact twists him sideways, and the champion immediately grabs the injured leg. The Dungeon Master wraps the chain around Mac’s ankle and yanks backward, dragging him to the center of the ring while Mac claws at the mat. The champion twists the chain around the knee and applies a brutal modified single-leg crab, using the chain for extra torque. Mac screams but refuses to submit, pounding the mat with both hands and crawling inch by inch toward the ropes even though rope breaks do not matter.]
Jim Ross: There are no rope breaks in a hardcore match, but instinct is instinct. Little Mac is trying to survive any way he can.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: The ropes cannot save him, JR. The Dungeon Master picked the leg, and now he is reading the damage chart.
Kris Gafney: Current status: knee unhappy, ankle filing paperwork.
[Mac reaches the ropes anyway and uses them to roll his body, twisting enough to kick The Dungeon Master away with his free leg. The champion stumbles backward into the corner. Mac frees the chain from his ankle and limps up, pain obvious but fire still there. The Dungeon Master charges with a chair, and Mac ducks under the swing. The chair smashes the top turnbuckle. Mac grabs the champion from behind and pulls him into a quick backslide. One. Two. The Dungeon Master kicks out. Both men scramble up. Mac lands a desperate uppercut, then another. The Dungeon Master staggers. Mac reaches deep, backs into the ropes, and explodes forward with a reverse flowing neck breaker]
Jerry "The King" Lawler: No, no, no! Cover him before the dungeon door opens again!
[Mac crawls into the cover, hooking the leg despite the pain in his own knee. One. Two. The Dungeon Master barely gets a shoulder up, and the arena erupts in disbelief. Mac sits back, eyes wide, knowing how close he came. He drags himself to the corner, pulls himself upright, and looks down at the chair lying near the ropes. He picks it up, raises it, and waits for the champion to stand. The Dungeon Master gets to one knee, then suddenly tosses the black die from his pocket at Mac’s face. It does little damage, but it distracts him for half a second. That is enough. The Dungeon Master lunges forward and drives the chair edge into Mac’s bad knee.]
Jim Ross: Oh, come on! That was a calculated distraction, and now the knee is exposed again.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Hardcore rules, JR. You cannot complain about dice in a match with chairs and chains.
Kris Gafney: That was not loaded dice. That was loaded timing.
[Mac drops, clutching the leg, and The Dungeon Master becomes merciless. He wedges the chair around Mac’s ankle and stomps down on it once, then again, forcing Mac to roll in agony. The champion drags him up and hooks both arms behind his back, but Mac drops his weight, refusing to be lifted for the Critical Hit DDT. The Dungeon Master knees him in the ribs, then places the dented trash can flat on the mat. He hooks the double underhook again, lifts with cold precision, and spikes Little Mac with the Critical Hit Mac goes limp.]
Jim Ross: Critical Hit! Good grief.
Kris Gafney: Critical hit confirmed. Saving throw failed.
[The Dungeon Master rolls Mac over slowly, hooks the far leg, and presses his forearm across the face while the referee drops into position. One. Two. Three.]
Jim Ross: Joey Bellarosa knows what is at stake. A victory tonight makes him the EMF Intercontinental Champion, but that is much easier said than done.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: He has the confidence, JR. The problem is that confidence does not block clotheslines.
Kris Gafney: Confidence can get you to the mountain. Mansa Carthage is the part where the mountain throws you back down.
Jim Ross: Mansa Carthage has carried that EMF Intercontinental Championship with pride and power. He does not look nervous tonight.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Why would he be nervous? He is bigger, stronger, and already has the belt.
Kris Gafney: Joey wants to climb the ladder. Mansa looks like he brought bolt cutters.
[The referee hands the title to ringside, checks both men, and calls for the bell. Joey comes out moving immediately, circling fast and throwing quick feints to make Mansa turn. Mansa stays patient, cutting off the ring instead of chasing. Joey snaps a low kick to the thigh, then another, and bounces away before Mansa can grab him. Mansa reaches once and Joey ducks under, popping up behind him with a quick dropkick to the back that sends the champion a step toward the corner. Joey rushes in with a forearm, then a second, trying to build early rhythm. Mansa shoves him away with both hands, but Joey rolls through, springs up, and lands a running dropkick to the chest. Mansa staggers but does not fall. Joey grins, hits the ropes again, and charges. Mansa catches him mid-stride and drills him with a huge scoop powerslam that turns the match upside down in a single crash.]
Jim Ross: Joey had the right idea, but one catch from Mansa Carthage changed everything.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: That is why you do not run at a man built like a brick bank vault.
Kris Gafney: Joey ordered speed. Mansa delivered impact with signature required.
[Mansa covers quickly. One. Two. Joey kicks out and rolls toward the ropes, clutching his back. Mansa stays controlled, not frustrated, and drags Joey up by the wrist. He whips Joey into the corner with authority and follows with a crushing corner clothesline that drops the challenger to a seated position. Mansa steps back, then drives a heavy knee into Joey’s chest before pulling him to center and planting him with a side slam. Another cover gets two. Mansa shifts to a grounded body lock, squeezing the ribs and forcing Joey to carry his weight. Joey fights, throwing short elbows to the jaw and pushing to one knee. Mansa tightens the grip, but Joey twists just enough to escape through the back door and snap off a jawbreaker that creates space.]
Jim Ross: Joey Bellarosa needed that counter badly. Mansa was starting to grind him down.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Starting? Joey’s spine already sent a resignation letter.
Kris Gafney: It was typed in all caps.
[Joey hits the ropes and lands a quick sling blade that finally brings Mansa down. The crowd pops as Joey rises with fresh life, then lands a standing moonsault across the champion’s chest. Cover. One. Two. Mansa powers out, tossing Joey aside with authority. Joey does not let the kickout scare him away. He jumps onto the second rope and comes back with a springboard back elbow that catches Mansa as he rises. Mansa drops to one knee. Joey hits a basement dropkick to the side of the head and covers again. One. Two. Mansa gets the shoulder up. Joey slaps the mat once, frustration flickering, then points to the championship at ringside as if reminding himself why the pain is worth it.]
Jim Ross: The challenger is putting combinations together now. That is exactly what he has to do.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: He has to do more than combinations. He has to find something Mansa cannot kick out of.
Kris Gafney: So far Mansa’s kickout button is working just fine.
[Joey pulls Mansa up and tries for a tornado DDT from the corner, but Mansa blocks the rotation, powers Joey into the air, and turns the attempt into a brutal backbreaker across the knee. Joey spills to the mat, arching in pain. Mansa stands over him, breathing harder now, and drags him up for a second backbreaker, holding Joey across the knee this time and pressing down on the chin and thigh. The referee asks if Joey submits. Joey shakes his head and claws at Mansa’s face until the champion releases. Mansa pulls him up again, but Joey fires a desperate enzuigiri that clips the ear and staggers Mansa into the ropes.]
Jim Ross: That is grit from Joey Bellarosa. He is finding answers under serious pressure.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: He is finding answers, but Mansa keeps changing the questions.
Kris Gafney: This exam is mostly bruises.
[Joey sees his chance and charges, clotheslining Mansa over the top rope. Mansa lands on his feet outside, but Joey keeps moving, hits the far ropes, and dives through with a tope that sends both men crashing into the barricade. The crowd erupts as Joey scrambles up first, adrenaline carrying him. He rolls Mansa back into the ring and climbs to the top rope. Mansa rises slowly. Joey launches with a high crossbody, but Mansa catches him again, steps forward, and swings him into a fallaway slam that sends Joey skidding across the canvas. Mansa covers. One. Two. Joey kicks out at two and a half.]
Jim Ross: Good grief, Mansa caught him out of the air. That had to knock the wind out of the challenger.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: The wind, the strategy, and maybe his weekend plans.
Kris Gafney: Joey went from airborne to airless.
[Mansa decides to finish things. He pulls Joey to his feet and hooks him for a thunderous sit-out slam, but Joey slips behind, shoves Mansa chest first into the turnbuckles, and rolls him up from behind. One. Two. Mansa kicks out. Both men pop up. Joey lands a superkick that staggers Mansa. Joey follows with another, then springs to the ropes and connects with a cutter that plants the champion near center ring. The arena gasps as Joey covers deep, hooking both legs. One. Two. Mansa kicks out just before three, and Joey sits up in disbelief.]
Jim Ross: Joey Bellarosa nearly became EMF Intercontinental Champion right there.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Nearly is going to haunt him if he cannot close this.
Kris Gafney: That was two and a dream payment.
[Joey rises slowly, pulling Mansa up by the head. He signals for one more big move, maybe the one that changes his career. Joey runs to the ropes and springboards, looking for another cutter, but Mansa catches him on the way down, shifts his grip, and plants him with a devastating spinebuster that shakes the ring. Both men are down, the crowd roaring as the referee checks them. Mansa pushes up first, shaking off the damage, and pulls Joey into position. Joey fires a weak forearm from his knees. Mansa absorbs it. Joey throws another. Mansa answers with one heavy shot that sends Joey backward. The champion drags him up, hooks the body, and drives him down with the Dragons Descend that folds Joey in the center of the ring.]
Jim Ross: Dragons Descend! Mansa hit it clean!
Jerry "The King" Lawler: That is the champion shutting the door.
Kris Gafney: Door shut, locked, and reinforced.
[Mansa drops into the cover, hooking the far leg tight and pressing his weight across Joey’s chest. The referee slides into position. One. Two. Three.]
(“The duck song” blasts on the PA system. Walter Melon walks out on the stage, and with Jack Heyman. Walter Melon steps inside of the ring.)
JR- Walter has been world champion again.
King-The only reason he wasn’t world champion was it wasn’t written by the Melon Gods he was wordl champion here.
Kris Gaffney-We really need to get this stuff in writing.
(“Game On” blasts on the PA system. Tony Ikeda walks out on the stage, he walks down the isle. He steps inside of the ring.)
JR-Tony Ikeda has had a long feature with the Melon Club.
King-It’s because of Badd Blends, and their inferior fruit, yuck!
[Walter Melon and Tony Ikeda, Ashley Irvine skips down with something involving the BWO. She looks very seriously at the numbers then yells WATERMELON, runs off! Tony and Walter shake their heads, Tony Ikeda and Walter Melon throw fists to the face, Walter Melon put Tony Ikeda into a side head lock, then Tony Ikeda pushes to the ropes. Walter Melon bounces off of the ropes. Tony Ikeda connects with an arm drag release. Walter Melon gets up to his feet, Tony Ikeda up, and he connects with a kick to the gut, and he connects with a double under hook suplex, and Walter Melon is in pain. Walter Melon gets up to his feet, Tony Ikeda throws a wild fist to the face. Tony Ikeda ducks under, and he connects with a full nelson slam!! Tony Ikeda goes into the cover on Walter Melon. The ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1…………..2………..KICK OUT by Walter Melon!!]
JR-Tony Ikeda almost got a three there.
King-No he didn’t. It was written in the Melon Bible Walter would kick out there.
Kris Gaffney-I’ll keep that in mind.
[Walter Melon is slow to get up to his feet, and Tony Ikeda hooks Walter Melon, but Walter Melon counters with a few back elbows to the side of the head, and then he counters with a snapmare that sends Tony Ikeda flying through the air, and he gets up to his feet. Tony Ikeda runs towards Walter Melon. Walter Melon counters with a hot shot that sends Tony Ikeda to the ropes. Tony Ikeda stumbles around. Walter Melon connects with a spitting seeds. Tony Ikeda goes down on the mat. Walter Melon goes into the cover on Tony Ikeda. The ref counts 1……………2………KICK OUT by Tony Ikeda. Walter Melon goes into the corner, and he goes for another spitting seeds, but Tony Ikeda ducks it Walter Melon connects it on the ref. Walter Melon connects with a low blow on Tony Ikeda. Walter goes out, and he gets fruit. Tony Ikeda gets lifted up by Apple Juice Styles. Walter Melon tries to make Tony eat the fruit, Tony Ikeda acts like it’s going to kill him, Tony Ikeda fights off with low blows of his own. CM Punk comes down and gives Tony something from Badd Blends.]
King-Did he just pull a Popeye?
Kris Gaffney-I think so.
King-Must be an evil Popeye since it’s the bad fruit.
[Tony Ikeda pops up like he’s Oba Femi after being F-5 into a table. Walter Melon runs at Tony Ikeda, and Tony Ikeda side steps, and then he throws Walter into the ring post. Walter stumbles out of the corner, and he rolls up Walter into a bridging pin. The ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1…………2…………3!!]
JR-Tony Ikeda gets the win!
King-The Melon Gods….didn’t do that, Tony’s just the Melon Devil.
Kris Gaffney-Ah!
(Tony Ikeda celebrates the win as Whiplash goes off the air.)