Submission - Jackson Corbin vs Jason Fitzpatrick

[jackson]

"When the lights go out the game is on.
Are you ready for me?
'Cause I'm ready for you.
When the bell rings out this fight is on.
Are you ready for me?
'Cause I'm ready for you!"

The arena lights, lustrously brightly illuminating down from the rafters, suddenly droops into an intense screen of black, sheeting the entire arena. Game On by Disciple suddenly hits the P.A system as the crowd go alight, along with the arena. The reason for the hastily sudden rupture; Jackson Corbin. The individual, draped in his typical navy blue t-shirt, stands in the middle of the entrance stage, showing little fear of his opponent to shortly arrive, the Irish sensation; Jason Fitzpatrick. He begins his venture down the set way, taking his time to pace down the entrance ramp. He shifts his direction slightly to his left. With a rather solemn look on his face, he holds out his left hand, signaling for the audience members nearest him to touch his palm. He swings out his leftward hand and releases the clutch of the die-hard fans. He walks over to the right barricades with a slightly more blissful look plastered over his face. As he thrusts out his starboard palm, the fans from the right barricade closest him, much like a few seconds ago, slap his right hand just as the people opposite facing them did. Corbin continues onto the steel ring steps and ascends upwards, closing in on his target in ring. Accompanied by a n abrupt blast of golden pyro form the entrance stage, he performs his signature taunt on the ring skirt, urging to crowd to upsurge in their already climaxing cheers. He briefly adjusts his tights before bending downwards to position his head into the ring. He gazes at the ring ropes opposite him as he slides his right foot through the middle rope, three quarters of his carcass now in ring.

.:Belle Blair:.
Ladies and gentlemen the following match is a submission match, where the only way to win is by forcing your opponent to submit to a submission maneuver. Introducing first, from Toronto Ontario Canada, weighing in at 205Lbs, "Full On" Jackson Corbin!

"I'm not afraid of loving my enemies
Turning the other cheek
Blessing those that would curse me
I honestly want peace with you
But when you come against my country
When you come against my family
You try to destroy my people
I can't just stand by
There's no way that I can stand by
This time, I will not stand by
I am coming, and if I come, then pain is coming with me
I'm coming, and pain will be with me"

.:Johnny Reifenheiser:.
And here's a man who messed with the wrong guy and is fresh from a loss last week to Sam Blade. And now tonight, he'll get himself even more wasted in the submission match with the young, athletic superstar known as Jason Fitzpatrick. Will we see the effects from his last match while facing Fitzpatrick?

.:David Scoggins:.
Blade was literally carrying Corbin, and swaying him like a rag doll. Jackson was taken out of it and now we'll see this demonic match where the only way to win is by submission. Forget your pinfalls, forget your count outs and forget your disqualification, anything goes as long as you can force your opponent to submit.

The titantron opens up as the screen zooms in on the electrical display. The screen shows last week's matchup with Blade, Sam taking his opponent and swaying him form side to side. Corbin looks down, his eyes shut as he dances, unaware to himself. Blade drops the man down to his face as he continues his onslaught. The screen cuts out and shows Sam on the top rope, with Corbin unconsciously lying on the canvas. Blade shifts his weight backwards and uses the momentum to turn parallel in mid air. He flips backwards and hits the moonsault pin onto Corbin, annihilating his chances of winning his debut bout. The referee theatrically slides in and begins to slaps the mat in the one second intervals. Blade lies on his opponent 'til three where the ring bell suddenly dings it's usual sound. Bad Seed by Metallica suddenly hits the public announcement system as the arrogant Sam Blade stands up, his right hand raised in victory by the referee.

[demon]

The moment the sound of Game On by Disciple fades away, it is replaced with the lyrical tune of The Warrior's Code by Dropkick Murphy's. This time, the fans jump up onto their feet at the sound of the music, having a new found love for the Irish superstar after his all out performance last week. The camera focuses on the entrance curtain, which begins to move around. After a few moments, Jason Fitzpatrick emerges from the back, a large smile plastered across his face. He sings along happily with the music, loving the experience of LDWA. He is once again wearing his green wrestling pants with the Shamrock pattern up the legs. However, this time his ribs are heavily bandaged, showing the tender area that was caused after the brutal beat down he received last week. Jason then begins jumping up and down on the spot before taking off down the ramp.

"And here is the opponent. Hailing from Kilkenny, Ireland, he is the Shamrock....Jason Fitzpatrick!"

"Oh this should be an absolutely great match. Two great young superstars who always give it their all, will face each other in a submission match. But I have to ask, could Jason be at a disadvantage after that attack he suffered from the hands of Dakon last week?"

"Probably. But to be honest with you, I could care less. I have to sit through this crap again. Just a bunch of losers throwing submission holds on each other."

As he runs down the ramp, Jason high fives the fans on either side. About halfway down, he stops at a young child holding up a large sign that reads, "The Irish Sensation - Jason Fitzpatrick". He laughs at the site of the sign and makes sure to give the child a high five and a hug. As Jason walks away, the child has a huge smile on their face, ecstatic at the opportunity to be so close to one of their heroes. Jason stops at the bottom of the ramp and looks out to the crowd. He then begins clapping his hands together, working the crowd up who soon join in with the clapping. After a couple moments of this, Jason walks up to ringside and rolls under the ropes.

"Oh come on! Just get in the damn ring already!"

"Be patient Johnny. Remember, good things come to those who wait."

In the ring, Jason walks over to his corner, not paying much attention to Jackson. He climbs up the turnbuckle, looking out to the crowd once more before jumping down and turning to face his opponent. As his entrance music fades away, the referee asks both men if they are ready. When he gets a yes from both, he signals to the timekeeper to ring the bell. The sound of it reverberating rings throughout the arena, hanging around for a few moments. The match has now begun.

[jackson]

The two men circle each other, desperately eager to see the other man pounce. Traditionally starting the matchup, the two suddenly lock their hands between the sides of each other's necks, applying the old-fashioned, technical grapple. The two men almost instantly break the hold up, knowing each other's strengths are close to equal. Fitzpatrick calmly spreads his palm down his thick, spiky hair, implying his confidence. The crowd now on their feet, Jackson grins politely and nods his head. Fitzpatrick, a stern look engraved over his face suddenly lashes out his right hand, his palm extending towards Corbin with his fingers slightly clamped. Corbin performs the same, locking his left hand between the right fingers of "The Shamrock". They skillfully execute the same with their left and right hands, locking each other in the variation of the grapple. The two push against one another, somewhat using each other's structure's as support. The men simultaneously drop to their knees, keeping themselves grounded for the physical struggle. Each other's shoulder blades dig into one another, causing them to ache in pain. Fitzpatrick, with the obvious athletic advantage lifts his right foot and swiftly stomps on the mat, elevating himself high enough as to roll himself over Corbin's back. As per Fitzpatrick turns, Jackson hastily makes to his feet. The two countrymen stand, facing one each other. They scald combustion into each other's eyes with the stare down. After a brief pause, the two men suddenly convert back into their stances, preparing themselves for the following brutality. Briefly, Fitzpatrick adjusts his tights, furthermore preparing himself. Following his opponent, Corbin begins to hop from side to side, adjusting his continuously swaying t-shirt as he jumps left to right. The two hurriedly lock into each other's arms again, back in the technical grapple. The aggressive men push one another into the opposite ring ropes, the referee helpless only as to watch. Corbin presses "The Shamrock"'s back against the top cable, applying a small deal of pressure into his lower spinal column. Jason uses this momentum and springs off the rope, charging towards the opposite. He bounces off both the top and bottom wires, prompting himself to fleetingly charge towards Corbin. Fitzpatrick locks in on his target and bends his knees. He pushes against his joints, lifting himself off the canvas. Inspired hang time literally flows outwards from Jason's structure, already chest high in air to Corbin. He bends his knees sluggishly before stretching them out once more, sharply prodding the soles of his boots.

.:Johnny Reifenheiser:.
Woah! Here we go, what a dropkick from Jason Fitzpatrick. That's what you call athletic faculty. Corbin must be breathing for air like a fish out of water.

.:David Scoggins:.
Notice how Jackson holds his chest like that. It just shows what efect a simple, yet perfectly executed dropkick can accomplish. And here's the pin.

"The Shamrock" crawls over the 205Lbs frame and takes hold of his arm. He crosses his legs inbetween the slightly damaged limb and falls effortlessly to his back. He fastens both his palms over Corbin's face, pulling back on both Jackson's neck and face. The crowd stand to their feet to what may be the awe stimulating end of the very short matchup. The referee slides in front of Corbin's face, asking him if he wants to quit. "Full On" desperately shakes his head, urging on to continue his match. Jason pulls back with more power, persuading Jackson even more to make Corbin submit. "Full On" continues to refuse, making this clear to the referee by shaking his head in denial and shouting the powerfully short word "no". Fitzpatrick tires himself and rolls off of his opponent's form. "The Shamrock", now with the endurance advantage awaits for the 6 footer to get to his feet as per he bends drowsily on his knees. Corbin regains his vertical base and stands erect. The two men lock up once more into the aggressively intense grapple, the last of the audience members lethargically drooping back to their seats. Corbin breaks free from the hold, ducking under his opponent's arm and pushing his feet against the canvas behind Fitzpatrick. He cocks back his fist and throws a right punch behind Jason's head, sending "The Shamrock" staggering forwards. Corbin shifts into a bent position and tucks his head snugly under Fitzpatrick's pit. He pushes the limit of the strength of his back, trying to stand up in chorus lifting his opponent up. Jackson stands in the standard back suplex position, Jason sitting with his head down on Corbin's shoulders. Before Jackson lifts his foot to fall backwards, "The Shamrock" retaliates, hurling a left cuff into the back of "Full On"'s neck. The two men wobble, giving Jason the advantage. Fitzpatrick extends his legs outwards into a sitting position and with Corbin head now between his forearm, falls to the mat, boring Jackson's face into the ring canvas. A loud thud sounds as the concluding camera flashes fade each other out.

.:Johnny Reifenheiser:.
Ah, the bulldog. What a perfect counter to the attempted back suplex. What quick thinking and wit from "The Shamrock".

.:David Scoggins:.
Ooh, did you here the thud from that devastating blow?! That could be heard way up there in the cheap seats. And maybe even through to the parking lot.

Fitzpatrick stands up, Corbin's head slightly under his legs. Pondering to the crowd, Jason proficiently vaults over Jackson, shifting his weight backwards and somehow athletically landing on his feet. An enormous epidemic of affection rolls off the crowd arena as Fitzpatrick turns himself around, looking down at the soles of Fitzpatrick's sneakers. He lifts up the tongues of his shoes and pulls back on his shins. He drops down, sluggishly sitting on Corbin's back all the while pulling on his legs. He expertly applies the Boston crab, looking to force Jackson to submit once more. He clenches his teeth as he squints his eyes, feeling the pain, "Full On" desperately army crawls towards the ropes, trying to break the hold. He looks back over his shoulder and begins to frantically push his elbow joint backwards, sending it lunging into "The Shamrock"'s lower back. With a second hectic attempt, Jackson barely manages to release from Jason's well utilized submission maneuver, elbowing his way from the insufferable pain.

.:Dave Scoggins:.
And what a matchup we have here, we'll be right back after this commercial break!

[demon]

Jackson Corbin manages to climb back up to his feet, using the ring ropes in front of him as leverage. Behind him, Jason holds his ribs in pain while pushing himself up to a vertical base as well. The two men meet mid-ring, locking their hands together for the third time in the match. The two men being nearly identical in size have trouble gaining the advantage over the other, but this time continue to remain engaged in the hold. Having taken less damage so far in the match, Jason Fitzpatrick tires slower than Corbin, and therefore can soon push him back first into the ropes. Once there, Jason pushes against the ropes a bit more before allowing them to help him propel Corbin across the ring. As Full On flies back, Fitzpatrick begins running forward. Both men hold out their arms straight, and each take the impact of the other. The two men fly slightly into the air and drop back down to the ground, each holding the area around his trachea. The referee checks on the condition of both men and then begins his slow count up to the number of ten. However, before he can get any higher than the number three, Jackson begins to recover, first managing to get to a knee and then finally making it entirely up to a vertical base. Corbin begins walking over to Fitzpatrick, moving slowly due to the damage he has taken from the good number of submission holds that have already been locked in on him. This time, however, he manages to get his revenge as he pushes the Shamrock up to a sitting position before locking his hands under the Irishman's chin. Full On pulls back, applying pressure and locking in the submission maneuver.

"And now the momentum has shifted. For the majority of this match up, Jason Fitzpatrick has been in control. However, now the tables have turned and Jackson Corbin has his opportunity to make his opponent submit."

"I really wish one of these guys would give up so we could just go home already! Wait....what do you mean I still have a good bunch of matches to sit through? Son of a bitch!"

Fitzpatrick immediately begins to grind his teeth in pain, his entire face scrunching up in determination to not give up. However, Jackson makes it continually harder not to, as he applies ever more pressure. The referee keeps a close watch on Jason, looking for the smallest indicator that he would like to give up, meanwhile continually asking the question, "Do you want to quit" and always receiving the same answer, "No!". The audience members seated throughout the arena cheer loudly as they once again witness a great match put on by the Irish Sensation. However, he seems to be fading fast as his arms, once up by his head in an attempt to help alleviate some of the pressure, now hang limply at his side. Full On notices this and begins applying as much pressure as he can, now digging his knees into the back of his opponent. However, this has the opposite of the desire effect of taking Jason completely out of the match. Instead, this seems to revive some life into him, and now he cries out in pain, though the look on his face is even more determined than ever. The Shamrock brings his hands up, and begins pulling and tugging on Corbin's locked hands. As he separates them, Jason brings each up on an opposite side of his head, using his opponent to help him make it up to his feet. Once back to a vertical base, Jason releases his opponent's hands, and grabs his head, Corbin's chin now resting on Fitzpatrick's shoulder. The Shamrock drops down to the mat, driving Full On's head into a combination of the canvas and his shoulder, and causing him to flop lifelessly there.

"Now that's a bit better. That modified version of a bulldog was pretty vicious looking, and I think if this was a regular singles match, it would be all over."

"But the point is that it isn't a regular singles match. It's a submission match, where the only way to win is to lock your opponent in a submission maneuver. And Jason may have just made it very hard to win by submission if he just knocked his opponent unconscious."

Jason jumps up to his feet almost immediately after nailing the big move. He looks down at his opponent before cockily running his hands through his hair again, looking out at the crowd. They cheer their heads off, jumping up and down, urging Jason to continue the match. He smiles at them before pointing skyward and then moving toward the nearest turnbuckle to his downed opponent. Fitzpatrick climbs up it, his back facing the ring, and runs his hands through his hair once more before standing completely up on the turnbuckle. He keeps his back facing the inside of the ring and points out to the crowd before taking a leap of faith and propelling himself backward, preforming a flip while in the air. As he comes down, however, Jackson Corbin rolls out of the way just in time and Jason comes crashing down upon the canvas. He bounces a little and then remains motionless on the ground, the missed maneuver temporarily knocking him out. With both men now down on the ground, the referee once again begins counting up to ten.

..TBC..