by Owlman

*Sometime Before Eat Me

The camera focused on the entrance ramp as the hard, staccato music burst through the arena. The 90,000-person crowd exploded into cheers as they recognized the familiar tune. A moderately tall, well-muscled Sebascean entered the arena, stepping out onto the silver entrance ramp. He was dressed in a light blue body suit, which reached to just above his knees. A pair of gold thunderbolts adorned his chest. His blue eyes looked around the arena, completely ignoring the various cameras locked on to him. After proceeding about fifteen feet down the ramp, he raised his arms. A burst of red fire works exploded beside and behind him. This produced even a bigger cheer from the crowd. He walked confidently, but not in a cocky nature down to the ring. It was an exact replica of a boxing ring. Inside, a short, thin, yet cut Sebascean stood in the rings center awaiting him. He was covered in tattoos, even his shaved head. But, he was trying to earn the right to compete in the League, meaning he had to beat a Super Star. The gorgeous, blonde ring announcer called out. “On his way to the ring, from Terminia, Pahn Javio!”

The on air announcers began their commentary. “Javio is one of the league’s best, in fact, he nearly won the championship last season, but was defeated by Myren Jermico”, said the older commentator, Shal. Javio slipped between the second and third ropes and into the ring. “Oh yeah, and he’s been pissed ever since”, replied the more energetic commentator, a former fighter named Kom Mogen, but was better known as The Duke (yeah, I know that’s a cheap King knock off, but it gets worse). “I feel real sorry for this guy trying to get a break, he ain’t gonna get in, and he is going to get an ass kicking for his troubles”, he added. “Come on, Duke, all these Super Stars got to where they are by doing the exact same thing”, replied his partner. The Duke looked at Javio who was locked onto the young rookie. “Yeah, well, does your watch have a microt hand?”, asked the Duke jokingly.

The bell rang and the two fighters engaged. Javio blocked the Rookie’s first punch and followed with one of his own to the man’s solar plexus. As the Rookie bent over in pain, Javio grabbed him by the thighs and lifted him off the ground. Then, with a quick, brutal motion, Javio unloaded a spine buster, smashing the man’s back to the canvas. Even the crowd’s noise could not cover up the Rookie’s cries of pain. He writhed on the canvas, semi-conscious. Javio could have gone for the pin, but he was too much of a showman. Plus, it would embarrass the man significantly if he were pinned after one move.

Javio picked him up from the canvas and smashed him to the ground once again with a scoop slam. He immediately picked the injured man off the canvas and delivered a scoop slam in the other direction. The Super Star hopeful’s eyes were glazed over, basically ignorant of the world around him. Javio picked him up off the ground. “Come on, give me something!” he yelled trying to encourage the man to at least show some dignity. The injured man threw a sloppy right hook, which Javio easily blocked. The expert swung the man around using his outstretched hand and looked his hands around his waist. Javio delivered what would be called a German Suplex on Earth. The man bounced of the canvas, flopping like a fish out of water. Javio could easily go for the pin, but the crowd began to chant: “The One! The One!” They wanted to see his finisher. He reached down and grabbed the virtually unconscious rookie, pulling him to his feet, back towards Javio. Javio wrapped his arms around the man’s neck and hoisted him up, feet off the ground. Javio kicked back both his feet, and they both slammed to the canvas, the Rookie’s neck taking the blunt of the fall. The crowd went wild through out the entire move. As Javio covered the opponent, the crowd chanted with the ref “1-2-3”. The crowd exploded as Javio’s theme music blared through the arena. “And the winner is Pahn Javio!” announced the beautiful ring announcer.

The camera focused on the TV announcing crew. “Jermico best watch his ass”, said the Duke. “Right, not only did Jermico win the title, but he also ruptured both of Javio’s quads with his Walls finisher”, said Shal.

Crichton put down his glass, never breaking his stare from the screen. Aeryn stood behind him, turning her gaze to the human. “Do you still want to compete now?” she asked, half concerned. “More than ever!” replied Crichton with a smile.

Crichton had purchased a martial art’s chip from a Jem’dar scientist on a commerce planet. The information was placed in his head similar to the Wormhole info, but this was unlocking on its own. He could easily match Aeryn now in hand to hand combat, and he could still surpass her as the more advanced techniques unlocked themselves. Crichton was a blue belt in Karate-Jutsu before he was thrown across the universe and stranded. He mixed the Earth and Alien arts into one fluid form.

It was on that same planet that Crichton first heard of his sport, which he told Aeryn, was “Wrestling for real”. She was puzzled; wondering when wrestling was ever fake. The concept of the WWF eluded her. Ah well, chicks never really understood the WWF. At first, Crichton intended just to watch the proceedings, but when he discovered that people could try out to become superstars, he jumped at the chance. Of course, being the wise, sane woman she is, Aeryn objected.

“Your going to get your ass kicked!” she said. “Yeah, but at least it will be a different kind of ass kickin’, and I will enjoy the hell out of it”, he replied. He needed some good healthy competition. Anything but running, stealing, and killing. Yeah, he probably would get his ass kicked, but at least no one would die. He had been shaken ever since there time traveling adventure. Maybe he needed a good beating to get over it.

But, he wasn’t going to go in with this mind set. He was seriously training everyday, perfecting his finisher. He decided to copy his favorite Wrestler, Rob Van Dam. This meant that it would be the devastating aerial maneuver, the 5-Star Frog Splash. The move involved his opponent being on his back in the ring. Crichton would leap from the top turnbuckle, and pull his arms and legs in to form a canon ball. Just as he began to descend, Crichton would do spread eagle, landing gut first on his opponent’s torso. Crichton practiced the maneuver for two days on one of Aeryn’s boxing dummies. But, eventually, he need live target practice. D’argo said no, he loved Aeryn and couldn’t very well crush her, he knew for a fact that it would kill Sparky, and he couldn’t do it to Chi or Jool because he was a southern gentleman after all. Stark, however had no objections. Unfortunately for Stark, Crichton executed the 5-Star perfectly, pulverizing Stark into the mat. Crichton knew the move was the shit when Stark didn’t get up, or even respond to his talking.

“Crichton!” Jool’s voice sliced through his eardrums like a spear as she barged into the center chamber. “What your Highness, I’m scouting my opponents here?” he asked, taking another drink of alcohol. “What did you do to Stark?” she half screamed. “5-Star Frog Splash”, he replied, never breaking his view of the TV. Knowing Jool was the new doc onboard encouraged Crichton not to get shot even more. “You broke one of his ribs and bruised two more!” she screeched. “Damn, the 5-Star is bad ass!” he said, taking another drink. “That’s all you have to say?” she asked. “Think that’s bad, look what he did to me!” yelled Crichton lifting his shirt to show were the Frog Splash hit. His navel located a small bruise not larger than a quarter outlined in yellow. She gave him a disappointed look. “Well, I got better!” said Crichton in a very fake English accent. Aeryn laughed as Jool shook her head at the Crichtonism. “Your boy friend is a psychopath!” she said storming out.

Crichton waited for Aeryn to yell after Jool that he wasn’t her boy friend, but she just stood and smiled. Crichton smiled. “Score!” he said inside his head. “I can’t believe that you put Stark in the infirmary”, she said at last breaking the silence. “You should be punished”, she added, playfully. Crichton smiled. “Spanking?” he asked hopefully. Aeryn shook her head. “You want me to join you in the tournament, I have to practice my finisher too”, she said with a smile. “You mean the Execution?” asked Crichton, which he understood as a modified DDT. “All right Darlin’, let’s rumble”, he said, leading the way to the cargo bay.

The entire crew looked on as Aeryn and Crichton faced each other on the huge PK insignia. She snapped into her fighting stance while Crichton stood there, ready to take it. “Kick his ass Aeryn!” screamed Chiana with a laugh. Crichton flashed the Nebari a look and turned by the black haired Sebasceanera. “Let’s see what this Execut…”. He was cut short by a kick to the abdomen, which made him bend over. Before he could react, she put his head under her arm, holding him around the neck. She leaped up in the air and as she reached the point of the jump, she shoved his trapped head down, jackknifing his head and entire body strait into the ground. The crew cried out to match Crichton’s pain. Aeryn got up from the ground and looked at Crichton who was spread eagle on the ground. Stark joined them. “How do you feel Crichton?” asked Stark. “Like a transport pod landed on my head”, he said, looking up at the hazy figures above him. Stark reached out a hand to pull him up. “I’m alright, I’ll just lay here for a minute and collect my thoughts”, he said. Stark smiled and walked off, leaving Crichton on the mat, spread eagle.

The city of Santona could have been the twin of the Royal Planet; the huge urban sprawl seemed to spread forever. Hovering taxis flew between the giant apartment buildings and businesses. The entire crew watched as their tram neared the huge domed structure that stop atop a huge tri-columned pillar. It looked like a combination of the Astrodome and George Jetson’s house. A group of huge floating billboards surrounded the stadium. All the signs read: Extreme Combat Alliance, the New Season starts in three days!

Crichton stirred in his black coat, missing the weight of a pistol on his hip. The planet had outlawed guns, and anyone in possession of one would be expelled. They lucked out in that D’argo’s weapon was a sword, that loophole might come in handy. Crichton and Aeryn would half to sign up and fight a superstar to secure a job. Crichton hoped that the sign up process would not take too long, he was ready to fight. He felt like a little kid waiting for Christmas. He eagerly stepped out of the tram as it came to a stop.

As he and Aeryn walked to the registration office, another would-be fighter was facing off against a Super Star. The challenger was a Luxan that made D’argo look small. He stood without emotion, looking at the pint sized, dark haired Sebascean man in front of him. The bell rang and the crowd began to cheer. The Luxan drew back his massive fist to strike, but the Super Star raised both his hands in front of him. The puzzled Luxan watched his opponent’s fingers as he wiggled them in a strange manner in front of his face. In a fraction of a second, the distracted Luxan took a boot to the side of the head, and passed out instantly. The veteran slid on top of him and the crowd chanted out the victorious three-count. An almost jungle beat began to play as the ring announcer broke in. “And, the winner is J’anar Tainer!” The Luxan laid spread eagle on his back as his opponent left.

It seemed to Crichton that the road to success would have a more impressive gatekeeper. The registration office consisted of a bored old lady behind a card table. She measured both of them with her eyes. She turned to Aeryn first. “Name and finisher”, she said with as little effort as possible. “Aeryn Sun, Execution”, she replied. The woman punched the information into a computer. The computer then did a random search of the female Super Stars, stopping on a gorgeous blonde. “Your opponent is Nerella”, she said turning the screen too her. She handed her a data disc. “This is some film and information on her for you to study, you have a match in 5 arns”, said the old woman. “5 arns, that is not enough time to prepare!” shot back Aeryn. “Take it our leave it”, said the old woman ignoring her.

She turned to Crichton. “Name and Finisher”. “John Crichton, 5-Star Frog Splash”, he replied. She began punching buttons before the name kicked in. “You mean you’re THE JRC?” she asked with a kind of terror. “JRC?” he asked. “Yeah, John Robert Crichton”, she said, pronouncing every name with more intensity. “Since when have people been using my middle name or calling me JRC?” he asked annoyed. “All the reporters call you that now, I think they have gotten lazy”, she replied. Crichton looked annoyed at her. “Who is my opponent?” he replied. “I’ll have to ask Mr. Myten about this” she said picking up a communicator.

Chiana was bored and looking for action. The bar was filled with a bunch of very poor, uninteresting people. And, not a Nebari to be seen. The last of her species that she saw had tried to reprogram her friends. What she would give to see one of her kind. “Hey Santai, can I buy you a drink?” came a voice from behind her. “Santai” was a Nebari word that was a mix of beautiful, honey, and sexy. She turned around to see a lithe Nebari man behind her. His gray hair was colored blonde, sticking strait up. She looked him over. “What’s your name?” she asked, getting close to him. “Darius, I’m a fighter here”, he replied. “What’s yours?” he asked. “Chiana”, she replied, getting even closer. “It’s been so long since I have seen another Nebari”, he replied. “What drink do you want?” he asked. She looked into his eyes. “Frell the drink!” she whispered with a smile.

As the pair of Nebari left the bar, Darius smacked head first into a wall of reptilian muscle. His blue drink flew, covering the towering individual. The glowing substance covered the man’s shirt. The tight black T barely concealed the mass of muscle underneath it. The man was almost seven feet tall, his scales the color of a tan white human’s skin, he could have been confused for a human from ten feet away. But at this close vicinity, the scales were clearly visible. His golden eyes studied the stubby alien below him. A huge hand slapped around Darius’ throat, shoving him back. “Watch your step little man”, he scolded in a deep voice, a snake like tongue flicking out. Darius tried his best to look tough, grapping the outstretched hand at the first. “Hands of Da’Nash, your still a rookie”, said Darius with a smile. “I don’t care how many Superstar’s asses you kicked the first day here, I’m still senior here”, replied Darius, tough as possible. As the angered grip closed harder on his throat, Darius pointed to Chiana. “We’ll settle this later”, he squeezed out. The giant hand released him. “Soon”, replied Da’Nash tossing him against the door. Darius rubbed his throat. “Keep rollin’ big man”, he shot at the bald creature as they walked out.

Damar Myten was frelling huge! That was the first though to pass through Crichton’s mind as he stared at the company owner. Though easily the Human equivalent of sixty, muscle absolutely burst from his dress shirt. But, he seemed to be the intimidated one. “So your John Crichton?” he asked with a bit of fear behind his gruff voice. “That’s me”, replied Crichton puzzled. “And let me get this strait, you want to compete in this company?” asked Myten. “Yeah, I’m allowed right?” replied Crichton. “Sure, but, your rather horrible reputation for violence and other criminal activities is what concerns me”, replied the billionaire. “I’ll be good, as long as nothing happens to my people”, replied Crichton. Myten gave him a strange look. “I’m sorry but I think you will be more trouble than your worth”, said Myten, pointing towards the door. “Give me a chance”, replied Crichton angrily. “Give me one bitch of an entrance match, if I fail, I am gone”, he added. Myten looked down at his desk “Alright, but I am damn sure you won’t like the match”, replied the billionaire, pulling out an electronic pad.

Crichton and Aeryn sat down in their front row seats in the Superstar section of the arena’s massive seating area. They were the only two people in the entire section; the rest of the talent had either not arrived yet or had something better to do. It was still tryouts for the tournament, and a pair of PeaceKeeper “Executioners” had just taken the ring, ready for their bout. Both were in solid black battle uniforms. Aeryn had explained that Executioners were assassins that specialized in hand-to-hand combat. Looking at the program, both of their finishers were the aptly named Execution. They were scheduled to fight a Superstar tag team. The black haired PeaceKeeper grabbed a microphone from the ring announcer and addressed the crowd.

“Hello lowly inferior races, I just thought I would introduce us”. The crowd immediately booed. “We are here to prove that Sebasceans truly are the moat superior species in the galaxy”, he shouted. A mix of cheers and boos arose from the crowd as Sebasceans and non-Sebasceans registered their opinions. “And whoever is stupid enough to come down that ramp, will have it proven to them!” said the PeaceKeeper commando with great confidence.

Suddenly, Myten’s face appeared on the Jumbo Tron overlooking the entrance ramp. “As per request, this tag match has been turned into a handicap match, the two of you versus this Superstar”, said Myten cutting off. The two PeaceKeepers began to laugh, but were cut short by a massive explosion of red flame from the entrance ramp. A lone techno style female singer started: “Test, this isn’t a Test…Test Test this isn’t a Test” an almost heavy metal band backed her up. The monstrosity that walked out shocked everyone in the arena, especially the two PeaceKeepers.

It was seven foot-two if it was ten inches. A yellow mask with black stripes covered the giant’s face, exposing only his eyes and a small section of his mouth to the open. Black dreadlocks hung from his head. His right arm had been replaced by some sort of cybernetic metal arm. The silver hand clenched and opened as it walked steadily towards its opponents. Even more disturbing was the creature’s left arm. From the elbow down, the arm was a reptilian green, scales meshing with the Caucasian mammal skin of the rest of the arm. His organic arm rippled with muscle. The parts of his upper body not covered by his black tank top were Caucasian. To finish off this horrid monster, its pants matched its masks color scheme.

Aeryn looked at it in horror and amazement. “What the frell is that?” asked Crichton. “A Baldon, or at least it used to be one”, replied Aeryn. “Their species has a similar genetic make up to ours, often our scientists perfect medicine on them before using it on PeaceKeepers”, she added. “Or, in his case, battle enhancements, cybernetics, gene manipulation”. “When they are used up, they are cremated, most of the time while they are still alive”, she added. Crichton looked on in horror. “It looks like Frankenstein wants some payback”, replied Crichton as the monstrous man reached the ring. He was introduced simply as “Test”.

Test didn’t bother trying to fit under the ropes, he stepped right over them. The pair of horrified Commandos looked on, knowing his origins as well. Test raised both his arms, and when he threw them down, red flame spat from each turnbuckle. His music stopped, and the bell rang.

The PeaceKeepers stood back reluctantly, trying to size up the opponent who waited patiently. The blonde haired PK charged first, delivering a clothesline to Test’s massive upper body. The titan didn’t even move. The PK looked up with sorrow as the metal fist smashed him square in the forehead, sending him to the ground in a heap. While this was going on, PK number two had climbed to the top rope. The Executioner jumped at the big half machine ready to deliver a devastating blow…

And the metal arm rose up to greet him, catching him by the throat. He managed a small squeak of pain as the grip tightened around his neck. Test hoisted the PeaceKeeper up easily with the one hand. The crowd went while as the PK hung in the air for a few seconds. Then, he came crashing to the mat with a whip of the metallic arm. The PeaceKeeper bounced off the ground a good two feet from the force of the choke slam. Test caught the other PeaceKeeper as he was crawling to his feet. He slammed the smaller man’s head between his legs. Then using both hands hoisted the man by the waist up to where his legs were on Test’s shoulders. With out breaking the hold, Test jackknifed the PK’s head and back square into the mat. The entire crowd cheered with the impact. Test picked up the PK and did a second Jackknife Powerbomb to him, followed by even a more powerful third.

The crowd was now on its feet, cheering Test. He grabbed the choke slam victim and but him in a Jackknife position. He walked over the Jackknife victim and performed three more of the Powerbombs, this time, bouncing the PeaceKeeper’s head off the others chest. Both screamed with pain with ever move. After the third, Test laid the PK next to his partner. The big monster threw both ungodly arms into the air and the crowd cheered. Test grabbed each of them by the neck, one in each hand. Effortlessly, he raised the pair above him, just as he had done to the single PK. With one powerful slam, both of the Executioners hit the mat, bouncing up into the air. Test put a hand on each one’s chest and the ref, along with the crowd counted the 1,2,3.

Test’s theme blared through the stadium as he raised his hands in victory. He went to leave the ring, but stopped, as though he remembered something. He turned back to the fallen PKs. He grabbed them by the throats again, another double choke slam. This time, he walked to the edge of the ring and tossed the two limp PKs through the announcing table, shattering the cheap thing like a house of cards. The crowd cheered as the monster walked off back up the ramp.

“Jesus”, said Crichton quietly. Aeryn turned to him. Her match was in thirty minutes, his in three arns. “I’d better get ready”, she said. The woman she was fighting was more beauty queen than fighter. If all the woman fighters were like that, she would be champion in no time. Before she could say another word, she found Crichton’s lips locked on hers. He looked into her eyes, “For luck”, he said. She nodded to him. “Thank you John, but against this little bimbo, I doubt I will need it”, she said walking off. Crichton watched her walk away, thanking the guy who invented PeaceKeeper leather pants.

Light flooded into the room as the huge, bald Sebascean forced the door open. Surprised Chiana and Darius rolled over in the bed screaming. “Its OK, that’s Mong, my partner”, said Darius. Chi pulled the covers over her even tighter. “Mong?” she asked puzzled at the primitive name. “Sorry Darius, but we got a match in three arns, handicap table”, said Mong. His face was covered in various gold piercings, even his lips and eyebrows. Mong left quickly. Darius looked at Chiana. “So baby, wanta see me work?” he asked. She smiled right back.

Aeryn looked around the huge arena as she descended down the gray entrance ramp. She was greeted with some cheers, but she was an unknown. Apparently being Crichton’s accomplice didn’t get you much fame. The stadium seemed about five times bigger now that she was competing. She could feel the eyes of the crowd scan her. As she slid under the ropes, she looked at John. He had fashioned a crude sigh out of a piece of debris. It read: Aeryn kicks ass!” She smiled and respectfully waited for her opponent.

The sexy music began almost immediately as she took position. A gorgeous, blonde Sebasceanera immerged from the entrance. A film of the girl in various bikinis flashed above her. A high-pitched singer sang about how hot she was on the loud speakers. Her fluffy white top and short shorts hardly were the clothes of a fighter. Aeryn was in her simple training clothes, opting against the various uniforms the wardrobe department offered. She really wished the floozy would quit shaking her ass and get in the ring. Nerella was her name as Aeryn recalled. This would be over quick.

Nerella entered the ring and the bell rang. But the Diva paid little attention to Aeryn, instead showing off for the crowd. Aeryn stood behind her, patiently waiting for her to turn around. After five seconds of posing, Aeryn got tired of it. Aeryn walked up behind the beauty and tapped her on the shoulder. Aeryn glared into her pretty smiling face, and then delivered a kick to her slim stomach. With one quick motion, Aeryn threw Nerella into the Execution, busting her face into the canvas. The little angel went limp automatically. Aeryn simply rolled her over, and covered her for the three count.

The crowd exploded into a standing ovation. She could easily here John screaming over the rest. The blonde ring announcer lifted Aeryn’s arm. “The winner is, your new Superstar, Aeryn Sun!” Aeryn didn’t feel like celebrating in the ring. She saw Crichton motion for her. She slid under the ropes and jumped the barricade in his direction. They met in a long embrace in the Superstar section. The cameras focused in as they kissed.

Crichton stood patiently behind the entrance curtain, the rattlers trying to climb out of his throat. He had only been this nervous in combat. He once again checked his uniform. It was a sleeveless black body suit, extending about midway to his knees. The suit was covered back and front by neon green flames. He also had black, fingerless gloves on that extended to his wrists. Black boots with connecting kneepads finished the uniform. If anything else, he was colorful. But, he also knew that this match would suck. A handicap table match. To win, he would have to force both members of the tag team through different table. To lose, they would have to slam him once through a table. He knew that he would have to start out fast and furious. He couldn’t stand still. The ring announcer began. “The following handicap table match is for Superstar ranking”, she began, his que to go out. He looked up at the thousands of fans as he entered the arena floor. “Making his way to the ring, from Earth, JRC… John Crichton!” she announced. Immediately, the crowd began to cheer. Everyone hated PeaceKeepers here, and he was kind of a folk hero. A few members of the crowd began to chant JRC. He felt a great amount of pride in the chant. He looked over to see Aeryn and Chiana in the Superstar spot.

“So John is fighting your new boyfriend”, said Aeryn through a fake smile. “Yeah, and his big ass partner Mong”, she added with almost guilt. “Mong?”asked a confused Aeryn. Chiana nodded. “I don’t know who I want to win”, Chi added looking at Crichton. “Colorful ain’t he?” she asked trying to break the tension. Aeryn sighed. Things can’t get any worse for John.

Crichton starred at the card table in the ring. It looked crappy, probably so the victim wouldn’t get hurt…well, badly at least. Crichton hoped that he wouldn’t have to learn that feeling today.

“Turn it up!” blared a happy female voice over the inter come. A flowing dance beat began as a video streamed across the Jumbotron. A small Nebari with blonde hair and a huge Sebascean in red emerged from the entrance. Each was doing a little dance to the beat, and the crowd was also dancing a bit. Crichton saw that each had a large gold belt around his waist. “You have got to be kidding me!” he said. The announcer behind him raised the microphone. “On their way to the ring, they are the Tag Team Champions, Darius and Mong!” Crichton looked at the big Sebascean in all red, his piercings clearly visible now. “Mong?” he asked surprised. The two were now right outside the ring, “Getting their dance on”. Ignoring the galaxy’s most dangerous man was a mistake.

As the bell rang, Crichton took a flying leap over the top rope, catching both at once with a cross body. All three slammed into the concrete, the tag champions taking the brunt. Crichton immediately rolled off of them and began punching Darius in the face. The small Nebari’s head snapped back after a vicious jab. Blue blood dripped down from the Nebari’s lip. Before he could press the advantage, Mong’s huge arms locked him in a full nelson. The massive Mong picked up Crichton and slammed him into the unforgiving stone floor back first. As Crichton writhed in pain, Darius stood over him. The small man did a somersault in mid air, dropping a leg drop on Crichton. Crichton’s head smacked against the floor again. Darius turned his back. “Get that table ready, we end this now!” he ordered. Mong pulled out a brown table and set up the end closer to Crichton. The human obviously recovered much faster than anticipated, grabbing the unsuspecting Mong from behind. Crichton threw the bull like man into the stairs headfirst. The metal stairs collapsed, and Mong’s baldhead began to bleed. He was obviously dazed.

Crichton turned just in time to block a punch from Darius. He returned a jab, landing right on the little man’s nose. Darius stumbled back, Crichton’s quicker reflexes playing havoc on him. Crichton backed him up to the crowd barrier. He grabbed Darius by the back of the head and began to drive his face into the thick barrier. Blue blood covered the black material. Crichton quickly threw the Nebari on the barrier, teetering on his stomach. Crichton quickly jumped to the apron of the ring, putting the Nebari in his sights. The human jumped from the apron, spinning in mid air. He dropped a leg drop on the square of Darius’ back. Darius howled as he was sandwiched between Crichton’s boot and the barrier. Darius crumpled over the barrier, immobilized. The front row fans began chanting “JRC!”

The distracted Crichton didn’t notice Mong, who was in the ring. The massive man grabbed Crichton by the shoulders, bringing him in and slamming him to the mat. Crichton quickly sprang to his feet, landing a jab on Mong. Mong ignored the small amount of pain and but a monstrous spinebuster on Crichton. The crowd gave a sympathetic “OOOO”, as the human bounced off the mat. Crichton tried to sit up, but his back seemed to have a different agenda. He managed to kick away the big man twice before Mong got his huge arms around him. He was once again being set up for a spinebuster, this time for the table.

Crichton waited, feeling Mong’s muscles, just as he reached the peak of the slam, Crichton grabbed his opponent’s trunks and rolled over his back. The confused Sebascean turned just in time to catch a boot to the face. He fell back against the flimsy table. Crichton hoped that the table would cave in under the massive weight, but it some how held. Mong fell on his face. Crichton smiled, it was too perfect. Crichton ran against the ropes as Mong got to his feet, still bent over. At a run, Crichton leaped, catching the back of Mong’s head with the falling heel of his boot in a maneuver called a Scissors Kick. Mong slammed into the ground, face first. Crichton kicked the man over, and once again ran into the ropes. Crichton rolled towards the spread eagle Mong, and one the second somersault, vaulted into the air, delivering a leg drop to the big man’s throat in a maneuver called Rolling Thunder. Crichton drug up the unconscious Mong and leaned him against the ropes right over the table on the ground. Crichton jumped onto the table in the middle of the ring. He performed a spinning jump kick, sending the big man sailing over the ropes. Mong shattered the table under his immense weight, slamming to the cement below.

The crowd went wild. Crichton had to show boat a little, it was required. He pointed to a group of fans chanting JRC in the closest section. He motioned for them to quiet down. He extended his arms out ward, thumbs up. He brought up the hands simultaneously until the thumbs pointed at himself. “J”, he started, doing it a second time, this time the small crowd caught on, answering “R” when the thumbs reached the same place again, a “C” a third time. Crichton smiled at the crowd. Apparently, that was a little too much show boating, because Darius managed to sneak up behind Crichton, smashing his face into the turnbuckle with a bulldog. Crichton staggered forwards, at the Nebari. Darius sprinted towards him, jumping, grabbing Crichton by the back. As he swung completely around, he used his momentum to drive Crichton’s face into the mat. That swinging DDT was called “The Spark”. A small puddle of blood formed under Crichton’s nose on the mat. Darius taunted Crichton as he stood up.

“Common Darius!” yelled Chiana, her enthusiasm draining as Aeryn glared at her.

Darius ran, trying the Spark again. But this time, Crichton caught his head with his left shoulder and unleashed a devastating cutter/neckbreacker on the Nebari champ. The little gray man bounced off the mat about half a foot, laying on his face and rolling over. Crichton seized the opportunity, running into the ropes and landing Rolling Thunder on the prostrate Darius. Crichton thought about going to the top rope for a Five Star, but Darius was quickly sitting up. He was also lined up perfect, and Crichton bounced off the ropes, going for the Scissors Kick. Darius slid over just as Crichton raised his leg, and landed a hard punch between Crichton’s legs. The horrendous tingling pain that can only come from a punch to the groin surged through Crichton’s body. Darius took this opportunity to perform hard DDT on Crichton, driving his head into the mat.

The ref grabbed Darius. “No strikes to the balls Darius!” ordered the ref. An annoyed Darius turned around and saw Crichton regaining his feet. The lithe Nebari ran, going for another Spark. Crichton spotted the small man coming and delivered a boot to his face, taking him down. As Darius was attempting to stand, Crichton jumped on the nearest turnbuckle and was immediately airborne. He performed another turning jump kick, aiming right a Darius’ head. Darius ducked and the ref caught the boot to the face instead. Crichton looked apologetically at the unconscious bystander. Another numbing pain went through his body as Darius against hit him in the groin. Crichton rolled over. “You fight like a woman’, he said in a bit higher tone than usual. As Darius went to stomp him, Crichton jabbed his foot into the Nebari’s groin. Darius staggered back, holding his mid section. Crichton barley managed a spinning kick to the side of Darius’ head, taking him down. With a painful hurry Crichton jumped for the lower left turnbuckle, ready to give the Nebari a spinning boot.

Mong came up from behind him and jolted the ropes. Crichton fell, racking himself on the turnbuckle. Crichton howled in pain with more damage to his sensitive area. He looked up to see Darius running at him. The quick Nebari scaled the turnbuckle and looked arms with Crichton. As Darius jumped, he turned Crichton over, smashing his head into the ground with a falling piledriver. It was his finisher, the Flaming Driver. The mat almost seemed to crack under the slam, as did Crichton’s neck. He was unconscious, defenseless. He lay there in a green/black heap. He could barely feel Darius dragging him up to the table in the rings center. The crowd went wild as the Nebari set up the human for another DDT on the tabletop.

Before he could execute the DDT, Darius heard the sound of metal smashing into something. He turned to see Da’Nash, holding a bloody steel plate. He saw a massive head shaped dent in its center. Obviously Mong had met the plate already. Before he could move, the huge reptile smashed the plate into his kidneys, sending him flying off the table. As he struggled to his feet, another plate shot smacked him in the back again. He was starting to think that pissing off this maniac was a bad idea. Da’Nash grabbed him by the throat and threw him into the lower right turnbuckle. This time, the plate came down square on his head. Blue blood flew everywhere, and Darius collapsed. He began begging for no more. Da’Nash smiled.

He threw down the plate and picked up the Nebari, locking him in a headlock. He easily threw Darius’ legs up, rolling his body up strait, head down. The crowd cheered as Da’Nash walked around, arm wrapped around the Darius’ neck. He stood right over the plate, and drove Darius’ head strait into the plate with a huge metallic crunch. This was Da’Nash’s finisher called the “Jackhammer”. The colorful Nebari was knocked out, and probably severally hurt. He picked him up and put him on the table. He looked down and picked up Crichton. He had pretty much come out of his daze and stood under his power. Da’Nash pointed to Darius on the table and Crichton nodded. Crichton jumped to the nearest turnbuckle as the crowd cheered. Da’Nash slid out as the ref awoke. Crichton lined up the Nebari in his sights.