Christian Sands vs. Karl "the Dragon" Brown


[The haunting strains of "Dark Machine" by Paul Oakenfold cue up, and the lights in the arena go out; the GlobalTron lights up with an image of Christian Sands gazing down from a distance, his face illuminated as if by car headlights through a window. After the first fourteen seconds of the song, a red strobelight kicks in. Smoke machines begin blowing a drifting mist horizontally across the ramp as Christian Sands emerges, striding down the ramp with the mist curling about his feet. He vaults into the ring over the top rope and stretches his arms briefly before boosting himself up to a turnbuckle, seating himself there facing inward to await Karl Brown’s entrance.]

DT: Sands looks poised to continue on in this tournament, Mike….

MN: I’ll say…

[The arena is bathed in darkness seconds before "Rainmaker" blares out, causing a cascade of green and white lights to flicker across the arena in time to the music and pyro to explode from the side of the stage. With the first words, Karl steps through the curtains, looking around at the crowd. He
high-fives fans either side of the aisle, stopping for autographs along the way, as he walks to the ring. Circles the ring once, then vaults over the top rope, standing on the second rope, arms aloft, saluting the fans on each side of the ring, before turning to face Christian Sands.

[With the sound of the bell, both men immediately come at each other with burning velocity. Christian Sands comes into Karl Brown with a swinging right, and "The Dragon" comes back with one of his own. The fist-fight ensues until Brown blocks a telegraphed left from Sands and follows through with a Shoulder Toss, whipping his opponent to the ground by the arm. Keeping ahold of the arm, Brown drops a leg over the bicep, pressuring it to bend the wrong way. Sands is left holding onto his hurting arm as he comes back to his feet.] 

DT: Karl Brown takes early control of this match! 

MN: Nah, this ain't control... 

DT: Christian Sands comes back to his feet, but his focus has been narrowed with that hurt arm, and Brown slips behind him! Brown with a Low Dropkick to Sands' LEGS! 

[Sands tumbles down to the mat under his own weight, and Brown quickly comes around to capitalize with his control. But as he brings Sands up to his feet again, Christian goes low and sweeps out his legs. Brown falls to the mat, and before he can react, Sands parts his legs and goes for a fist to the groin, causing the crowd to shudder.] 

DT: Ooh... a FIST to the groin by Christian Sands! 

MN: You see? Now THAT'S control. 

DT: Whatever you say, Mike... 

[Sands waits for a moment while Brown curls himself on the mat in agony to shake his wounded arm. Then he takes Karl Brown around the waist and brings him back up to his feet, poised for a German Suplex! But suddenly, Brown reverses the hold! With the crowd cheering behind him, Brown pulls Sands off the mat and DROPS him onto his KNEE!] 

DT: BACKBREAKER from Karl Brown! 

MN: Bah... 

DT: So much for Christian Sands' "control", eh Mike? 

MN: Shut the hell up! 

[Brown keeps the momentum going with an elbow drop over Sands sternum, and hooks the leg for a cover.] 

DT: First cover in the match... 


One! 


Two! 


NO! Sands with a strong kickout... 

MN: It'll take much more than THAT to put down Christian Sands! 

[Brown brings Sands up onto his feet and locks on a side headlock. The hold doesn't stay on for very long though, as Sands backs into the ropes and Brown is shoved off. Brown runs against the opposite side of the ropes, barely DUCKING a clothesline from Sands. Brown makes the return, but is this time put to the mat with a quick hiptoss from Sands! Brown quickly gets to his feet, but gets BOTH of Christian Sands' boots put into his face for the effort!] 

DT: DROPKICK from Christian Sands! We've seen a lot of back and forth action thus far... 

MN: Well that ends now... 

[Brown gets to his feet again, this time not as fast. Sands quickly takes advantage of the loss of speed by hooking him and sending him over with a Verticle Suplex! Sands rolls over for a cover, but Brown shoves him off before the referee can even drop to his knees. Both men get to their feet at the same time, but Sands remains strong by planting a boot into the gut of Karl Brown and dropping him with a DDT!] 

MN: BOOYAH! DDT from my boy, Christian Sands... TOLD you that back and forth action was going to end... 

DT: Karl Brown has been put to the ground, and it will be a while before he moves again... meanwhile, Christian Sands has a good opportunity to wear his opponent down while he has control at this point. 

MN: This match is in his pocket... 

DT: Here's Christian Sands with his first cover... 

One! 


Two!  

NO! Brown with a kickout... 

MN: Damnit... some people just don't understand... 

[Sands returns to his feet, taking Brown by the head and bringing him up with him. Christian Sands quickly goes for an arm wrench, keeping Brown at bay and in a world of hurt. Sands delivers a HARD right into the strained shoulder of Karl Brown, forcing "The Dragon" to drop to a knee. With a few more clubbing blows, Sands forces Brown onto BOTH knees, before twisting the arm around again with another force to flip Brown over onto his back. He quickly follows through by locking on a fujiwara armbar onto Brown's injured arm.] 

DT: I'll tell ya... Christian Sands is just going for the kill here! 

MN: Darn right he is... he's always 100% in that ring. There's nobody who can match that sort of confidence and determination... 

DT: Well, I beg to differ, but he surely brought his A-Game tonight. 

[Christian Sands applies more pressure onto the hold, and Brown winces in pain. His free arm reaches out for the bottom rope, but he's a foot short. He stalls for a moment, trying to fight back the pain. He doesn't show any signs of quitting, but Sands applies the strain again.] 

DT: Karl Brown is in a BAD position here... 

MN: Heh... Chris could pull his arm right out of the socket! 

DT: Don't count Karl Brown out just yet... he doesn't look to be throwing in the towel yet. 

MN: The key word is... YET! He'll give up sooner or later. 

DT: We'll see... 

[Finally, Brown musters the strength to inch his way to the bottom rope. Sands sees this, and attempts to crawl back to the middle of the ring, but he's too late. Within a few moments, Karl Brown snatches the bottom rope. The ref orders Sands to release the hold, and he does, with a look of disgust on his face. Brown takes a few breaths, but Sands doesn't allow him to recover any further as he gets him up to his feet, and wraps his arms around the waist.] 

DT: Here comes Christian Sands... with a GERMAN SUPLEX on Karl Brown! And he holds on, getting him back onto his feet! 

MN: Heh heh... HERE we go! 

DT: Sands with a SECOND German Suplex... holds on, gets Brown up, goes for a THI--OH WAIT!! 

MN: EH? 

DT: Brown lands on his FEET... takes Sands from behind... BIG RELEASED GERMAN SUPLEX!! 

MN: WHAAAAT?! 

DT: Karl Brown has TURNED this match around! 

[Sands gets to his feet in a daze, and walks RIGHT into a clothesline from Karl Brown! "The Dragon" doesn't miss a beat as he jumps to the second rope, leaps off, and comes DOWN over Christian Sands face with a fist drop! The devastating impact sends the audience into an uproar, and Brown quickly makes the cover.] 

DT: Here's a pin! 


ONE! 


TWO!! 


OH NO!! ...Sands kicks out. 

MN: Of course he does! This is preposterous! 

[To save himself, Sands rolls to the outside.] 

DT: And Sands is running away! 

MN: Watch your mouth, Dave! He's not running! It's just that Karl Brown, who is OBVIOUSLY breaking the rules, isn't giving his opponent a proper advantage to catch his breath! How is he supposed to wrestle under these brutal conditions? 

DT: And you think Sands would do the same for Brown...? 

MN: Of course! 

DT: Whatever... 

[Sands takes a moment to catch a breather, the referee beginning the ten count. As he turns around, his feet kiss the heels of Karl Brown as he smashes into him with a Baseball Slide! Sands goes reeling back, landing over the barricade. Brown, coming to his feet on the outside, quickly hooks him from behind, and executes a Dragon Suplex! Beaten and exasperated, Sands crawls around on the mats for a few moments, trying to escape the salvo of attacks. But Brown quickly catches up to him and DRIVES him head-first into the steel steps!] 

DT: WOW! Christian Sands is getting his ASS handed to him! 

MN: Someone's gotta stop this! This isn't FAIR, damnit! 

DT: Look... Sands rolled OUT of the ring to escape Brown... now he's rolling back INTO the ring for the same reasons! 

MN: Shut up, Dave, you don't know what you're looking at! 

DT: I know EXACTLY what I'm looking at, Mike! 

[Brown follows Sands into the ring. Christian has retreated to a corner. As Brown approaches, Sands delivers a kick to the gut. This only momentarily stuns the man in control, who comes back with a BIG right hand into Sands' face! Following that, Brown takes his opponent by the arm, and whips him HARD into the other corner! Sands stumbles out in a daze, walking right into a DEVASTATING T-Bone Suplex!] 

DT: T-BONE SUPLEX on the part of Karl Brown! 

MN: What the HELL is this? Something isn't right here... 

DT: Here's Karl Brown with another cover! 


ONE!! 


TWO!! 


THR--OH NO!! Sands with a kickout... 

MN: PHEW! 

DT: This match is getting close... Brown looking for another way to put an end to Sands... he gets him back to his feet... goes for a whip to the ropes--NO!! It's reversed by Sands! 

[Sands reverses the Irish Whip, sending Karl Brown into the ropes! Brown springs back with a crossbody block, but it's quickly countered into a DEVASTATING Powerslam! Sands comes back to his feet and spits on the fallen body of Karl Brown. He quickly drops a knee over his opponent's face for added effect. Brown finally gets the picture and tries to get away. As he gets to his knees, Sands catches him again, this time locking his opponent into a standing headscissor and pasting him into the mat with a POWERFUL Front Pancake Slam!] 

DT: OOH... Sands is taking it to Karl Brown, hardcore! 

MN: Damn right he is. NOW we're going to see some REAL professional wrestling! 

[Brown, still moving, tries to get to his feet again. Sands quickly grabs him from behind and NAILS him with a chickenwing Suplex that tosses his opponent across the ring!] 

DT: OH MY GOD, Chickenwing Suplex! That had AUTHORI-TAH!! 

MN: Yeah, baby! 

DT: And here comes Sands... he drops down, and hooks the leg for a COVER... 


ONE!! 


TWO!! 


THR--NOO!! Karl Brown kicks out. 

MN: Damnit, doesn't he give up? 

[Sands shakes his head, getting frutrated. But he keeps his cool for the time being, taking Brown by the arm and bringing him back to his feet. Sands goes for an Irish Whip, and nearly DECAPITATES Karl Brown with a clothesline upon his return! Christian follows this by taking a moment to look into the audience with a sadistic grin as he looks out into the booing audience. Then he returns his focus to Karl Brown who is getting back to his feet in the corner.] 

DT: Brown is back up... 

MN: But not for long! 

DT: In comes Sands with a BIG right hand to the face! Sands, now, going for chops across the chest of Karl Brown! 

MN: WHOOO!! 

DT: Sands with ANOTHER big chop! 

MN: WHOOO!! 

DT: For the love of God, Mike, that IS annoying... 

MN: Deal with it! 

[After a few more repeating blows to the head, Sands finally opts to make his move. He quickly sets Brown onto the top rope...] 

MN: Oh, HERE we go! Sands taking Brown to the top rope! 

DT: If Brown hopes to stay alive in this match, he better do something now! 

MN: Sands going up with him... hooks Brown around the waist... OH MY GOD!! 

DT: OVERHEAD BELLY-TO-BELLY SUPLEX FROM THE TOP ROPE!! 

MN: That's it... Brown has HAD IT!! He can't get up from that... 

DT: Karl Brown is in trouble... and here's Christian Sands with the cover! 

MN: This is it! 

DT: Maybe... 

ONE!!! 

TWO!!! 

THREE--OH WAIT, NO!! 

MN: WHAT?! 

DT: Karl Brown KICKED OUT!! 

MN: I don't BELIEVE IT!! 

[Christian Sands SLAPS the mat in utter frustration! Finally, he yanks Karl Brown back to his feet, having enough!] 

MN: That's it... Sands means business now! 

DT: Christian Sands grabs Karl Brown from behind... LOCKS ON THE SANDMAN'S CLUTCH!! 

MN: HA HA!! There's NO WAY Karl Brown can survive the SANDSTORM!! 

[Brown is brought to his knees, fighting the obvious pain.] 

DT: I can only IMAGINE what Karl Brown is going through at this point... he certainly can't be feeling ANY good locked in the Cobra Clutch Crossface! 

MN: He is only seconds away from tapping... 

DT: Are you sure? He looks to be holding himself! 

MN: Trust me, Dave... 

[Then, fighting everything, Karl Brown slowly gets to his feet again!] 

DT: Hey, what's this! Karl Brown is FIGHTING it! 

MN: What?! It's USELESS, Brown! Just tap and get it over with!! 

DT: Wait, BROWN with an ELBOW TO THE GUT WITH HIS FREE ARM!! 

MN: OH NO!! 

[Without warning, Christian Sands releases the hold. Brown slips around him like an eel, plants a knee into the smalls of his back, and locks on the Dragon Sleeper!] 

DT: DRAGON SLEEPER FROM KARL BROWN!! 

MN: NO WAY!! 

DT: The tables have been turned... Karl Brown has it locked on perfectly! 

MN: Fight it, Christian! 

DT: Brown follows through... DRAGON'S BITE!!! 

MN: NOOOOO!!!! 

DT: THIS IS IT, IT'S OVER!! KARL BROWN WITH THE COVER!!! 

ONE!!! 


TWO!!! 


[DARKNESS].


DT: What what... what happened?! 

MN: Hey, I can't see!! 

DT: Someone turned off the LIGHTS!! 

MN: HEY!! Who just touched me! 

DT: No, I can't believe it... Karl Brown was a MILISECOND AWAY from winning this match! 

MN: *******it, Dave, you homo, get your hands off my balls! 

DT: I'm not touching you, Mike... 

MN: AAHH!! Get these smelly fans away from me! 

[All at once, the lights come back on. Brown is standing in the ring, looking around in confusion, as is the referee. Sands is on his hands and knees, looking around with a dazed look in his eye as the after-effects of the Dragon's Bite where's off.] 

DT: What was that all about? 

MN: No clue... game on! 

[While Brown is distracted, Sands suddenly gets a golden opportunity. Call it luck, or simply blame it on experience... but suddenly, Christian Sands darts forward and LOW BLOWS Karl Brown with VENGEANCE! The referee, still stunned with the recent blackout, doesn't see a thing! Sands quickly grabs a weakened Karl Brown from behind, and...] 

DT: SAND BLASTER!! 

MN: YYEEEEAAAAHH!!! 

DT: I don't believe it, that was so CHEAP!! 

MN: You do ANYTHING to win...  

DT: The ref turns around as Sands makes the cover.... 


ONE!!! 


TWO!!! 

TTTHHHREEEEEEE!!!! 


MN: HAHAHAHAHAHAA!!! 

DT: Oh, shut up, Mike... Karl Brown got robbed! Who turned off those lights?! 

MN: Who cares? It was a simply electrical outage... happens all the time. 

DT: "Happens all the time" my ass! Whenever it happens, SOMEBODY is behind it! 

MN: Whatever...

WINNER: CHRISTIAN SANDS


[Cut to the backstage area where Paul Freeman sits at his desk, kicking his feet up and relaxing slightly. All of a sudden, the interviewer from the Ryan/Suicide segment opens the door. Freeman pulls his feet off of the desk abruptly, then straightens his tie.]

Freeman: Yes, can I help you?

Interviewer: Sir, I was instructed by Mr. Ryan to give this to you…

[Paul leans back slightly.]

Freeman: You can read it to me, if you’d like…

Interviewer: Surely sir…

[The man opens up the envelope and begins to rattle off the contents of the note inside.]

Interviewer: “Paul, there was something I forgot to bring up when we last talked. Remember how I mentioned to you about making poor decisions? Well I just happened to be leaving the office tonight when I remembered one of the worst decisions you’ve made in the past couple of weeks. Releasing Jonathan Marx? Tsk Tsk. You know better than to get rid of talent without telling me. We just can’t have this kind of stuff. I’m sorry this just happened to slip my mind earlier… but remember that match you were SUPPOSED to have this week? Well it’s been moved to next week… and your newly reinstated opponent… is none other than “Gentleman” Jonathan Marx. 

[The crowd pops and Freeman’s eyes get wide with surprise. He sits up in shock, then puts his hands on his head, shaking it back and forth.]

Interviewer: “Thanks for your….”

Freeman: Enough! That’ll be fine, thanks….

Interviewer: Sorry sir…

Freeman: Oh lord… this is just freakin’ wonderful…

[The cameras cut back to the main arena feed…]  


NEXT