By: Jay Winger
Note: This is set immediately after "Storm Warning: Approach & Arrival." To recap, after several occurrences of someone playing psychological warfare on multiple WWF wrestlers, including Triple H, Edge & Christian, Right to Censor, Kurt Angle, and William Regal. Then, at the Royal Rumble, Commissioner Foley booked Tazz in a match against a mystery opponent, who turned out to be a man calling himself "the Storm" -- the man responsible for the mind games being played. He defeated Tazz cleanly in the ring, then returned later during the Rumble when Tazz ran out to aid his buddy Raven. The Storm pulled Tazz out of the ring, clobbered him with a baseball bat, then left. Tazz chased him, but the Storm again knocked him down with the bat before leaving the arena.
MONDAY: RAW IS WAR, Jan. 24
It was a few minutes after the close of the opening segment of the show. During the opening, Kane came to the ring to demand a title shot against the Rock, not wishing to wait until Wrestlemania. That brought out the Rock, who was ready to oblige, but Commissioner Mick Foley stopped both of them, even handling the resurgent Triple H/Kurt Angle fued by booking the main event as a tag-team match-up: the Rock and Triple H against Kane and Kurt Angle.
Backstage, Buh-Buh Ray and D-Von Dudley were getting set for their upcoming table match with Lo Down. They were wearing their red, black, and white camos, and were getting themselves pumped up to provide maximum entertainment and maximum pain to their opponents. The door to their dressing room opened and a man walked in. The Dudleys began to smile. They knew the guy.
"Storm! What're you doing here?" Buh-Buh Ray inquired. "I thought you had the night off."
"I do," the man called the Storm replied. He was an inch or two shorter than Buh-Buh Ray and weighed less. He was wearing a black tee-shirt with a stylized blue exclamation point on the front and two electric blue lightning bolts arcing down from the shoulders. He wore dark jeans and black boots. His hard blue-gray eyes were hidden behind his black sunglasses. When he spoke, it was a touch deep and with a bit of a rasp to it. "I just decided to be here to catch the action. You know, scope some of the other talent and keep myself on top of things."
D-Von nodded. "That's cool. You gonna see our match tonight?"
"No doubt, D," the Storm said. "I want to see Chaz and D'Lo get wood." He grinned and slapped a high-five with D-Von.
They continued to chat it up, none of them noticing a certain Brooklyn native sneaking into the room behind them with a two-by-four. At the last second, the Storm sensed something and turned just in time to see Tazz before the 2x4 was smashed over his head. The Dudleys double-teamed on Tazz, who managed to shake them off enough to stomp the Storm a few times, then retreated out of the locker room. Groaning, the newcomer sat up, hand going to the spot where he'd been hit. Buh-Buh Ray went over to him, helping him up.
"You okay, Storm?"
"Aside from the roaring headache I've got now," the Storm replied, "I'm fine. Where'd the little son of a bitch go?"
D-Von pointed him down a hall. "He went toward the gorilla position. He's got a match with Jericho."
The Storm, removing his hand from the small cut on his hairline, went over to a locker, where he'd stored his gear earlier. He reached into a large duffle bag and withdrew a black baseball bat with white lettering on it. As he stalked out the door, Buh-Buh Ray glimpsed the word 'UGLY' written in the white lettering. "I'll be back in a bit," the Storm said as he left.
* * *
At the ring, the Titantron played a siren as the Storm Warning emblem flashed on screen. It paused, and then the Storm's voice came over the speakers: "This is your Storm Warning!" Two lightning bolts shot down from the ceiling to set off a pyro burst, an instrumental version of Metallica's "Ride the Lightning" playing. The Storm strode out, gazing at the audience, and walking around the ring toward the announce table. Lillian Garcia announced his identity to those people who had not watched the PPV last night. "Making his way to the ring, from Dallas Texas, weighing in at 250 pounds...THE STORM!"
"Why's he coming over here?" Jerry 'the King' Lawler inquired as the Storm seated himself in a chair and put on a headset.
"I'm not sure, King. For those of you at home, we've just been joined at ringside by the latest addition to the WWF roster, the Storm, who made his in-ring debut last night at Royal Rumble." J.R. Jim Ross nodded to the newcomer. "Thank you for joining us, Storm."
"No problem, J.R.," the Storm replied, laying his 'UGLY' baseball bat on the table in front of them.
"What's that for?" J.R. asked.
The Storm pointed at the cut on his forehead, which, while unpleasant looking, wasn't bleeding too badly. "I was backstage talking to the Dudleys when Tazz took it upon himself to introduce me to a two-by-four." He scowled briefly as Tazz's music began to play. "I plan to introduce him to my ugly-stick."
"You're going to interfere in the match?" J.R. asked.
"Of course not," he replied. "But once it's over, well..."
Tazz was joined shortly thereafter by Y2J, who never got a chance to do his pre-match spiel as Tazz cut him off at the top of the ramp. The two traded punches as they fought toward the ring, where Tazz reversed an Irish whip into the steel stairs. "And this match hasn't even started yet," J.R. said, "but Tazz is really taking it to Chris Jericho."
"I really don't like Tazz, but I'm not so sure about Jericho either!" the King said. "What do you think, Storm?"
"I like Jericho." The Storm's eyes were unreadable behind his sunglasses as he spoke. "Tazz isn't such a bad guy, but the thing I don't like about him is he takes things way too personally." He looked at King. "Take you for example. You and J.R. made a few remarks at Tazz's expense which he blew out of proportion. You were just doing your jobs. But King, you tend to make too many disparaging remarks about some of the most talented wrestlers in the business, but you rarely put your balls where your mouth is and prove you can take what you dish."
"What?" the King said, astonished that someone actually said something like that to his face.
In the ring, Tazz went for the Tazzmission, but Y2J elbowed out of it and hit a series of arm chops on Tazz against the ropes. He grabbed Tazz's arm and started to whip him across the ring, but Tazz reversed it and nailed Jericho with a knee to the stomach. As Jericho was bent over, Tazz slipped behind him and hit him with a T-Bone Tazzplex. Tazz straddled him and started to unload punches to the temple as the commentary continued.
"You don't like King?" J.R. said.
"That's right," the Storm said. "Sure, you're a WWF standard," he said to King, "and you legitimately had talent back in the day, but I guarantee if you got in the ring with someone like Triple H or Stone Cold Steve Austin, you'd get your ass kicked more times than a European soccer ball."
"Now listen here--" the King started.
"Just shut up and call the match like you're paid to," the Storm said as he turned his attention away from Lawler and watched as Jericho kicked Tazz off of him and hit him with a running bulldog. Jericho went for the Lionsault, but Tazz managed to get his knees up and countered the move. As Jericho stumbled away, holding his ribs, Tazz came up from behind and applied the Tazzmission. Jericho fell to the mat, arm flailing about, and managed to grab the rope. The Human Wrecking Machine released him and kicked him in the ribs a few times, then stood him up and whipped him into the ropes. Tazz intended to follow up with a belly-to-belly suplex, but Jericho shot off the ropes and hit Tazz with a blow to the forehead, knocking him down.
Jerry Lawler tried to get the Storm to follow up his words, but J.R. forced him to turn his attention back to the ring, where Jericho had grabbed Tazz's legs and started to twist him around into the Walls of Jericho. Tazz, however, managed to grab Y2J's hair and hit him with a slug to the head, making Jericho release him. As Jericho came back at him, Tazz tripped him with a drop-toe hold, applying a camel clutch as Jericho lay face-down. Jericho attempted to get to the ropes, but Tazz's grip was like iron. After another minute, Jericho was forced to tap the mat.
With the match over, the King turned back to the Storm and started berating him. "Now look here, you piece of dirt, you can't come out here and insult me and get away with it!"
"Can and did," the Storm replied. "I am a force of nature, and you can't really stop me." He removed his headset and picked up his 'ugly-stick.' As Jericho rolled out of the ring, the Storm slid in behind Tazz, who was posing for the crowd. The WWF newcomer raised the baseball bat and whispered, "Hey, Tazz! Don't turn around!"
Naturally, the Brooklyn native did so, and then the Storm clobbered him over the head with the bat. Tazz went down, seeing stars. "I thought I told you not to turn around?" he said, then grabbed the microphone from Lillian Garcia. "Listen, Tazz, I was having a good day until you cracked that two-by-four over my skull. I was supposed to have the night off, but then you had to go and get all pissy about getting beaten by me last night. Face it, Tazz, I beat you clean, 1-2-3 in the ring. Fair and square. Deal with it, and I won't have to repeat this lesson." He hit Tazz with the bat again as he started to stand up, then gave him a two finger salute and swung his arm down in a chop, kind of like the DX crotch-chop, only not. Metallica's instrumental played again as the Storm calmly exited the ring and strode up the ramp.
* * *
Backstage, the Storm ran into Mick Foley as he returned to the locker room. "What was that all about?" the commissioner asked shortly. "I come back from the john and find you beating up Tazz with a baseball bat?"
"Obviously you didn't hear," the Storm said coolly, "that before his match, Tazz cracked a two-by-four across my head." He pointed to the cut he'd received. "I'm a forgiving guy, but there are some things you don't let slide." He held up the baseball bat. "So I beat him with an ugly-stick."
"You don't do that!" Foley shouted at him. "You can't just run down to the ring and start hitting people with foreign objects! That's not what the WWF is about!"
"Funny," the newcomer said, "but Tazz did the same thing not too long into your tenure as Commissioner, and he didn't get this much heat about it. Fine me if you want, but I won't take back my actions."
Foley frowned, then held up a hand as Tazz approached, a hand to his head, screaming obscenities. "Whoa, whoa, Tazz, calm down. I was just telling Storm not to do that sort of thing again. But since he didn't actually interfere in your match, I can't do much to him."
"What the hell's that about?!" Tazz shouted. "This guy hit me with a baseball bat twice in the head!"
"Aw, poor baby," the Storm muttered.
"Tell you what," Foley said, keeping the two men separate. "Tazz, since you've already had a match tonight, you're finished. Take it easy. Storm, since you attacked Tazz, your punishment will be..." He cast about for a suitable idea. "I know! I'll make the tag match between Lo Down and the Dudleys a six-man tag! The Storm will be with the Dudleys and Raven will be with Lo Down! How's that get you?"
The Storm shrugged. "I don't care. My day's already been ruined. Might as well get to bust some more heads before I go home."
Tazz scowled. "Okay. But I want him Thursday night!" he told Foley.
"All right," Foley agreed. "On Smackdown! you'll face each other again. And to make things interesting, we'll make it a hardcore match. How `bout that?"
The Storm and Tazz shared a scathing look, and then both nodded. "Don't cross me again," the Storm told Tazz, pointing the ugly-stick at him, then stalked off back to the dressing room. There, the Dudleys were waiting for him.
"What happened?" D-Von inquired. "We saw the match on the monitor."
"Just talked to Foley," the Storm said as he checked the cut for bleeding. "I fight Tazz on Smackdown!, but tonight he's made your match with Lo Down a six-man tag with you and me against Lo Down and Raven."
"What?" Buh-Buh said. "You don't have the night off anymore?"
"This is Foley's idea of punishing me for hitting Tazz with an ugly-stick." The Storm inspected said baseball bat. "I think I might have put a dent in it from his thick skull." He looked at the Dudleys. "Think we can put a beatdown on Chaz, D'Lo, and Raven?"
"Damn right we can!" Buh-Buh grinned. D-Von grinned back and all three of them slapped a high-five, screaming, "Testify!"
* * *
Pictures of ravens squawked on the Titantron as Raven walked down to the ring, where he devested himself of his leather jacket and shirt around his waist. He climbed up on the ropes and posed briefly, then sullenly seated himself in the corner, arms braced against the ropes, frowning out at the audience. He didn't look happy to be in the ring tonight, but he didn't feel like complaining. Not long after, a record-needle scratched and music hit. "Here we go -- you're lookin' at the real deal now! (Ooh!) Gonna kick your sorry ass out on the street! (Is that what you've got?) You used to think you owned this street, well pack your bags, `cuz your ass is dead meat! Victory's sweet, (bring it on!) here's the receipt! (Bring it on!) What'cha gonna do about it? (Bring it on!) Is that what you've got? (Bring it on!) What'cha gonna do about it? Gonna kick your sorry ass, now what you gonna do?"
Chaz and D'Lo posed at the top of the ramp, the former spewing a cloud of water into the air before walking down to the ring, where they regarded Raven, who gazed passively back at them. They shrugged and posed a few more times before the Storm Warning siren hit. The newcomer's emblem flashed on the Titantron, and then his voice growled, "This is your Storm Warning!" The Metallica instrumental hit with the lightning pyro burst, and the Storm strode out of the smoke with his ugly-stick. He stopped halfway down the ramp and pointed the bat at the trio in the ring, a gesture full of threat and promise. He didn't lowered the bat, then cocked his head to look back over his shoulder as the Titantron whistled with a dropping bomb. Pyros shot off and the Dudley Boyz' entrance music played as the two former ECW and WWF tag team champions emerged bearing a table.
The three stood at the base of the ramp, where Buh-Buh Ray and D-Von set up the table as Lo Down and Raven approached the ropes to start talking trash. "Come on, then!" Chaz taunted. "Get your ass in here so we can beat it down!"
"You want some of this? You want a piece of me?" D'Lo shouted.
Raven, on the other hand, was merely giving the Storm a look that could kill. The Force of Nature stood there, watching impassively. He glanced back at the Dudleys, who had finished setting up the table, and then removed his sunglasses. He handed these to an official, stepped forward and clobbered Chaz in the head with the ugly-stick. As he stumbled back, Buh-Buh grabbed D'Lo's legs and yanked him halfway out of the ring before delivering a hard elbow into his gut. D-Von had climbed up on the ring apron to grab Raven and throttle him against the top rope before shooting him back as he dropped off.
The fight bell rang as the Storm and D-Von climbed into the ring, going after Chaz and Raven respectively. The Storm had dropped the ugly stick in the corner as he'd entered, so he was working the former Headbanger over with a few jabs to the nose. D-Von whipped Raven off the ropes and hit him with a reverse elbow. The Storm, meanwhile, nailed Chaz with a martial arts kick to the gut, then pivoted around and hit Chaz in the face as he doubled over, driving him against the ropes. The Storm backed up, then charged in a clothesline that took Chaz out of the ring. Buh-Buh, meanwhile, had pulled D'Lo completely out of the ring, where he stomped a few times before whipping him into the steel steps.
Buh-Buh climbed up on the ring apron as the Storm and D-Von double-teamed Raven. They bumped him in the middle of the ring with a double suplex. D-Von did a few kneedrops as the Storm went to the neutral corner. He faced the audience, grinned savagely, then turned to Raven. "Time to reap the Windfall, Raven!" He ascended to the top, faced in and crouched, holding the ropes and leaning way back. As D-Von stood him back up, the Storm catapulted himself forward in a flying cross-body that took Raven down. He was going to start doing punches to Raven's temple, but D'Lo slid in behind him and kicked him in the head. D'Lo joined Chaz in his corner as Raven got back up and dropped the Storm with a Russian leg sweep.
Raven pulled him to his feet and whipped him into the hostile corner, where Lo Down was waiting with a double boot. Raven tagged in D'Lo, who lifted him in a scoop slam and did a flashy leg drop on his sternum. He then tagged in Chaz, whom he lifted into the air by the leg, then dropped him on top of the Storm, who jerked with the impact. The tattooed wrestler landed a blatant choke on him, then tagged in Raven quickly. They stood him up and whipped him into the ropes, going for a double-team clothesline. As he shot back off the ropes, however, the Storm screamed a warcry as he leapt and landed a double clothesline on the two. Chaz rolled out of the ring, checking his face for blood, especially his already-abused nose. Raven and the Storm lay in the ring, dazed, and both started to make the slow crawl for their corners.
The fans, meanwhile, were on their feet, stomping and chanting, "WE WANT TABLES!" Raven made it to tag in D'Lo a second before the Storm made a similar tag to Buh-Buh Ray. The two charged at each other, the larger Buh-Buh knocking down D'Lo with a clothesline, then doing it again as D'Lo got back up. Meanwhile, the Storm had rolled out of the ring and had retrieved his ugly-stick. He stalked around the ring toward Chaz, who was leaning against the steps as he tried to shake off the dizziness from the clothesline he'd gotten.
"Hey, Chaz," the Storm said, "don't turn around." Just as Tazz had earlier, the former Headbanger turned and got hit in the gut with the baseball bat. "I thought I told you not to turn around?" The air rushed out of Chaz as the Storm drove the bottom of the baseball bat into the back of Chaz's head. The referee, Tim White, saw this and came over to tell him to get back to his own corner.
This distraction allowed Buh-Buh to scoop slam D'Lo again and spread his legs open. He grinned at his half-brother, and both wagged their tongues out as they (and the audience) screamed "Whassup!!" D-Von leapt out and hit D'Lo in the exposed groin with a flying headbutt. Buh-Buh released him and pointed at D-Von as he did his victory dance. Then, as the fans picked up a "TABLE! TABLE!" chant, the look of anticipatory glee crossed Buh-Buh Ray's face. He shoved the black Dudley. "D-Von!!"
"What?!"
Buh-Buh pointed at the prop they'd set up outside the ring. "Get the table!!" The fans popped, screaming as D-Von ran out of the ring to lift the table and pass it in to his half-brother. Neither noticed Raven climbing into the ring and coming up behind Buh-Buh. The white Dudley had just gotten the table ready when Raven grabbed him and hit him with a belly-to-back suplex. D-Von was in, ready to avenge his half-brother, but Raven caught him with a boot to the gut. Raven started to lift him for a pumphandle slam, but Buh-Buh was ready to nail him with a clothesline from behind.
Outside the ring, the Storm had whipped Chaz head-first into the security railing. The former Headbanger was down for certain as the Force of Nature entered the ring. He saw D'Lo start to get up and ran at him, kicking him in the ribs and sending him rolling out of the ring. He looked at the Dudleys, then down at Raven. He smirked, then repositioned the table for them. He turned to the audience and raised his hand, thumb and forefinger in a circle, his other three fingers extended. "3D!!" he shouted.
The fans roared with anticipation as D-Von stood up Raven, whipped him into the ropes, then caught his legs and carried Raven up into Buh-Buh Ray's waiting grip. The two dropped Raven down through the table with a nasty CRACK!! The Storm reversed his grip on the ugly-stick, then gave him his two-fingered salute. The Dudleys music played as the trio left the ring, walking back up the ramp, periodically stopping to turn back and shout taunts back at Lo Down, who had gotten back to their feet and were staring off after them, scowls on their faces. "Here are your winners...THE STORM and THE DUDLEY BOYZ!"
THURSDAY: Smackdown!, Jan. 27
The Storm entered the arena, his duffle bag slung over his shoulder, eyes masked behind his sunglasses, then stopped as he saw a brief flash of orange and black duck behind a Dumpster. Sighing, he put his bag down and withdrew his ugly-stick from within. He stood and faced the Dumpster. "Tazz, you might as well just come out. I know you're back there."
There was a brief pause, and then the Human Wrecking Machine emerged with a crowbar. He started toward the Storm, but stopped as the baseball bat was raised. "Before we start something," the Storm said, "let's get something clear."
"What's that?" Tazz said.
"I have nothing against you," the Force of Nature replied. "I actually applauded your taking it to Lawler, and I don't mind you that much. But then you went and broke a two-by-four over my head. I paid you back for that, and I did not want to be in that table match on Monday."
"Tell that to Raven," Tazz snapped.
"I have nothing against him either," the Storm said. "He just happens to be a friend of yours, so Commissioner Foley used him in the table match instead of you." He waved it aside. "What I'm trying to say is I don't want to spend my time fighting you after tonight. So we save this," he waved his ugly-stick and nodded at Tazz's crowbar, "for the ring, and after tonight, we stay out of each other's business."
Tazz raised his sunglasses off his eyes and frowned, considering. "All right," he said after a moment.
The Storm stooped and picked up his duffle. "I'm going to put my ugly-stick away," he said. "You gonna put that crowbar down?"
Tazz glanced at it, then tossed it into the Dumpster. The Storm nodded and slid the baseball bat into the duffle and offered a hand to Tazz. The Brooklyn Bad Ass looked at it, then shook it. The two shared a brief glare at each other, and then Tazz turned and walked off. The Storm watched him go and then went to the locker room.
* * *
The Storm was retying his boots and going over a gameplan for his match with Tazz when there was a knock on his locker room door. He looked up, then surreptitiously picked up the ugly-stick. He cautiously moved to the door, and opened it. An unassuming man whom he'd seen backstage a few times was standing there. "Who're you?" the Storm demanded.
The man held up his hands. "I'm Joe. Just Joe."
The Storm narrowed his eyes, then nodded. "Oh, yeah, I remember you. You're the one who tried to tell those to Canadian idiots that I trashed their locker room a month ago." He said this flatly, and Joe swallowed a bit, noticing a subtle threat under that statement. It didn't help that he couldn't read the Storm's eyes beneath his sunglasses. He tilted his head, regarding this guy, then asked, "What do you want, Joe Just Joe?"
"I just thought you should know," the messenger said, "that I overheard Chris Benoit earlier, and he said that--"
"Wait, lemme guess," the Storm interrupted. "He said some rather not-nice things about me and you thought I might have something similar to say about him?" Just Joe, surprised, nodded. The Storm shook his head. "Nope. I keep my opinions to myself. Get lost."
Joe started to leave, but then he was stopped again. "Oh, and Joe? If Benoit calls me out, saying I said some not-nice things about him, I'll come back here and beat you with an ugly-stick." Joe nodded, then left. The Storm watched him go, then put his baseball bat back in his duffle and started toward the gorilla position.
* * *
Tazz's orange glow covered the OvalTron, the opening beeps of his entrance music playing, and then pyros shot off. "The following contest is scheduled for one fall," Tony Chimel announced. "Making his way to the ring, from the Red Hook District of Brooklyn, New York, weighing in at 255 pounds...TAZZ!" He strode through the theatrical smoke obscuring the ramp and rolled into the ring, throwing aside his torn towel as he tightened his 'TLD' wrist wraps. He put his game face on as he faced the ramp, waiting for his opponent.
The Storm Warning siren went off, the emblem flashing on the OvalTron, before it cut off. "This is your Storm Warning!" Twin bolts of electricity shot down from the ceiling to the top of the ramp, setting off pyros as the Metallica instrumental of "Ride the Lightning" started up. Slowly, the Storm emerged from the fog left by the theatrical smoke. "And his opponent," Chimel went on, "from Dallas, Texas, weighing in at 250 pounds...THE STORM!"
The Storm calmly removed his sunglasses and tossed them to a ringside official as Tazz left the ring and met his opponent at the bottom of the ramp. The two traded punches before the Storm kneed Tazz in the gut and then hurled him to the floor. The referee, Mike Chioda, told him to get the fight in the ring. The Storm looked at him, then went and rolled into the ring, starting the match, then back out as he pulled Tazz up and whipped him into the ring. The Storm followed, but Tazz was up and delivering stomps to his shoulder before he could stand up. As Tazz raised his foot for another stomp, the newcomer's hands shot out and grabbed his other ankle, yanking. Tazz stumbled back, allowing the Storm time to get to his feet.
Tazz charged again, but the Storm counted with a gutshot, then grabbed Tazz by the head and hurled him into the corner. He charged, yelling as adrenaline started to kick in, and delivered a harsh elbow to Tazz's temple. At ringside, Michael Cole was commenting. "These two met less than a week ago at the Royal Rumble, where the Storm managed a clean victory over Tazz. Can he do it again tonight?"
"Man," Jerry Lawler mumbled, "I don't like either of these guys. I don't know who to root for!"
Meanwhile, the Storm was dealing a series of fierce arm-chops to Tazz's chest, and was reeling back for a really hard one when Tazz grabbed the Storm's other arm and reversed their positions. He started with a series of kicks to the gut that served to make the Storm slump to a sitting position, whereupon Tazz applied a blatant choke, grimacing as he tried to force the air out of the Force of Nature's lungs. Chioda pulled Tazz back, giving him a warning. Tazz scowled at him, then turned back to the Storm, who launched out of the corner with a vicious spear. He straddled Tazz and started applying more knuckles to the head, then stood and grabbed one of Tazz's legs. Planting his foot on Tazz's other ankle, the Storm gazed out at the audience, then twisted Tazz's leg to the side. Tazz grimaced and yelled in pain, then managed to shake his leg free from the foot pinning it and kicked the Storm in the gut. The newcomer staggered back, oofing, but caught Tazz's foot as he went for it again. Scowling, the Storm started to step forward for a Sharpshooter, but instead he stomped on Tazz's crotch. Tazz rolled on the ground in pain as the Storm leaned against the ropes, faking a yawn as he waited for Tazz to get to his feet.
Tazz wobbled a bit as he got back up, but he noticed the Storm charging for a clothesline. He grabbed the Storm in a bearhug, then hurled him to the mat with a belly-to-belly Tazzplex. The Storm started to get back up, but Tazz was standing behind him. As soon as the newcomer was on his feet, the Brooklyn Bad Ass slapped on the Tazzmission. The Storm writhed, trying to get to the ropes, but Tazz had him locked in. The Storm stumbled, falling to the mat, then managed a weak lunge and grabbed the bottom rope. Furious, Tazz released the hold and delivered a hard stomp to the Storm's spine.
Wincing, the Storm rolled over, clutching his back, then managed to roll out of the way as Tazz aimed a kick at his gut. Quickly, he snap-rolled back and delivered an elbow to the back of Tazz's knee. The Human Wrecking Machine stumbled, and the Storm was back up, grabbing Tazz in a hard scoop slam. As Tazz lay stunned, the Storm turned to the audience and raised a finger in the air. Snorting, he stomped to the corner and ascended to the top, leaning way back as he held the ropes for balance. "Oh, no," Cole shouted, "the Storm calls this move 'the Windfall'!" Sure enough, as Tazz got to his feet, the Storm catapulted himself out in a flying cross-body, lying across Tazz for a pin. 1...2...and Tazz kicked out.
The Storm started to stand him up again, but Tazz kicked him in the gut, then flipped him down in a snapmare. He stomped his shoulder a few times, then hooked up a leg. 1...2...and the Storm got a shoulder up. Tazz, scowling, stood the Storm up and wound back for a harsh jab, but the Storm ducked and delivered a harsh jab to the solar plexus. As Tazz doubled over, the Storm got him up on a shoulder, then drove his head into the mat in his unique piledriver. With Tazz now out cold, the Storm hooked a leg. 1...2...3! The fight bell rang as the Storm stood up and retrieved his sunglasses. Chioda raised his arm, as Tony Chimel announced, "Here is your winner...THE STORM!"
The Storm, face alight with an almost-feral intensity, climbed up on one of the turnbuckles and gave his two-fingered salute. "That's what I call some-a that Southern Lightning!!" he shouted, then got down off the corner and exited the ring, marching up the ramp to his Metallica music.
* * *
Backstage, the Storm was packing up his gear when there was again a knock on his door. Cautiously, the Storm opened it a bit and looked out. Standing outside was the forbidding visage of Chris Benoit, who wasn't smiling. The Storm opened the door the rest of the way. "Hello, Crippler," he said flatly.
"You're the Storm?" Benoit asked.
"That's right."
"The so-called 'Force of Nature?'" he asked.
"That's right."
"The one who took out Tazz and Raven and doesn't like Lawler?"
Smirking now, the Storm said, "That's right."
Benoit, who had been standing with arms folded, dropped his fists to the sides and glared. "What's this I hear aboot you putting me down?"
The Storm raised an eyebrow, then removed his sunglasses. "Who'd you hear this from? Was it that Joe guy?" When Benoit nodded, the Storm shook his head. "I told that asshole not to try anything." He looked at the Canadian Crippler. "Look, Benoit, I have nothing against you. I agree, you're probably one of, if not the, best technical wrestler in the WWF today, and I don't desire to prove or disprove you."
Benoit's eyes narrowed. "What?"
"What I'm saying is, Joe is trying to start something between us, and I don't want something to start between us," the Force of Nature replied. "If you want to go at it, that's fine, but we'll save it for Raw on Monday." But then he got a cruel smirk on his face. "But I have a better idea."
"What's that?"
The Storm told him.
Benoit slowly smiled. "That's not half bad, Storm. All right. But are ya sure Commissioner Foley'll allow it?"
"Trust me."
MONDAY: RAW is WAR, Jan. 31
The man who called himself "Just" Joe was walking around backstage, periodically eavesdropping on conversations as he looked for some rumor to spread. So far, he wasn't getting much he could use. Most of it was chatter he'd heard before, like a (shudder) nude Mideon again remarking about the "uselessness" of Dean Malenko -- but last time he'd tried to use that, he'd ended up in the ring himself. He noticed Al Snow dickering about in one of the locker rooms, but kept away from him too. Yup, so far, nothing he could use.
He passed by a small alcove, too late noticing the sign that read 'COMMISSIONER' on the wall. As he walked by, suddenly Mick Foley's hand grabbed his arm. "Hey, Joe, whaddaya know?" the commish grinned.
"Hello, Commissioner," Joe said, trying to think of an excuse to put some distance between himself and Foley.
"Listen, I'm booking you in a match tonight," Foley said.
"You're what?"
"I'm booking you in a match," Foley repeated. "You're up after the Hardys' match with T&A. If you're not there, you'll have to do the match on Thursday, and I'll add an unpleasant stipulation if that happens. So go get ready."
Joe sought an excuse to get out of it, but he looked past the grin on Foley's face and saw the hard glint in his eyes, the glint that meant the Commissioner would accept no excuses. Sighing, Joe nodded and went to find his gear in the locker room, dreading the match and wondering who Foley had him booked against.
* * *
The Titantron played the humorous bass-beat of Just Joe's entrance video as still photos of him with captions ("Don't shoot the messenger." "I'm Joe, Just Joe." etc.) appeared. Still not eager, Joe walked down to the ring, where he tested the ropes, then looked toward the ramp, wondering who was coming out. Lillian Garcia spoke: "The following match is a Handicap Match, and is scheduled for one fall..." Joe didn't hear the rest of his intro as he went into a funk at the words Handicap Match. "Oh, shit," he muttered to himself.
"And his opponents...first, from Edmonton, Alberta, Canada..." The lights started flashing blue as Chris Benoit's music played. Joe's jaw dropped. He was absolutely screwed. "...weighing in at 220 pounds...CHRIS BENOIT!"
Benoit stopped at the bottom of the ramp, looked up at Joe coldly, then started to circle around to the other side of the ring, where he waited, hands clenching and unclenching as he awaited his shot at the rumormonger. Lillian waited to introduce the next one, but she didn't really need to. The fans all knew who was next the moment the Storm Warning siren and symbol played. "This is your Storm Warning!"
Pyros went off at the lightning strike, and the Storm strode out, sunglasses covering his eyes as he walked down the ramp and stood at the bottom, looking in at Joe. The backstage hand looked back and forth between the two, then realized they'd seen through his attempt to start a feud. The Storm calmly passed his sunglasses to an official, then looked across the ring at Benoit. They nodded in unison, then both slid into the ring and double-teamed Joe. The unfortunate rumormonger had no chance to defend himself as Benoit and the Storm started laying on punch after punch, then double-whipped him into the ropes. He hit the mat after both men hit him with a reverse elbow, then got locked in the Storm's leg-twisting submission hold.
J.R. at the ringside: "And the Storm's got Just Joe in that submission hold, King, he's got him in the Twister."
"Oh, man, somebody stop him!" the King protested. "Benoit, why don't you do something?"
"They're partners in this match-up, King," J.R. reminded him.
"That's never stopped Benoit before!"
Joe was howling in agony, and looked up to see Benoit trapping the referee in the corner. "You keep the match going!" the Crippler told him. "If he taps out, it continues!" Joe, who was seconds away from tapping out of the Twister, felt his insides sink at that. No respite from these two. Benoit returned to the Storm and nudged him. The Force of Nature looked up, nodded, then took his foot off Joe's ankle. He picked up his other leg, then did his groin stomp. The two stood the hapless Just Joe up and double-whipped him into the ropes again. This time, however, Joe was able to grab the ropes and flipped himself outside. He landed in a tangle and started to crawl toward the ramp to escape.
The Storm saw this and ran to the corner, climbing up and leaning back as he grabbed the ropes. He waited for Joe to get in range, then leapt out in the Windfall. Wincing a bit from the landing, he stood up and rolled Joe back into the ring, where Benoit whipped him into the corner and started applying a few sharp arm chops.
"Storm and Benoit appear to have this match well in hand, King," J.R. remarked. "They're both on the same page."
"Where's a run-in when you need one?" Lawler whined. He considered getting in the ring to help Joe out, but despite the size of his ego, he knew he stood no chance against Benoit by himself...and when you threw the Storm in there, he really didn't like the odds. So he just continued bitching.
Finally, Benoit whipped Joe out of the corner and into a dropkick from the Storm. As the rumormonger staggered back from the kick, Benoit grabbed his left arm and hurled him to the mat, where he immediately locked on the Crippler Crossface. Joe started to scream in pain again. The Storm cornered the referee again and told him, "He taps out, you keep the match going, or I'll unleash some Southern Lightning on your ass." When the referee nodded his understanding, the Storm turned back to Benoit and Joe. Joe was drumming his hand on the mat in submission, but Benoit was relentless. The Storm stomped on Joe's spine a bit, then tapped Benoit with his boot. The Canadian released Joe and faced the Storm. The look in the newcomer's eyes was chilling. Benoit saw it and smiled his sadistic smile.
Benoit made a cutting gesture with his arms, hissing "That's it!" as the Storm made a cutting motion at his throat with his thumb, then pointed at the weakened Joe. He stalked to the corner and ascended again, leaning back. Joe weakly got to his feet and turned to face the Storm, who flattened him with another Windfall. The Storm rolled off the prone Joe as Benoit nailed him with a swandive headbutt. Joe jerked with the impact. Finally, Benoit and the Storm each hooked a leg up and shouted at the referee, who counted the pinfall. 1...2...3!
"Here are your winners...THE STORM and CHRIS BENOIT!" Lillian announced.
"What a one-sided match," J.R. muttered. "Joe never stood a chance against those two."
"Wait, what's the Storm doing?" King wondered.
The Storm had climbed up on one of the posts, after putting his sunglasses back on, where he screamed, "Oh, we're not done yet!!" He hopped out of the ring and rummaged under the ring for a minute. He popped back up and raised a black baseball bat with white lettering: UGLY.
"Oh, no!" King moaned.
"The Storm's got that-that baseball bat, that ugly-stick!" J.R. said.
Benoit was standing over Joe, snarling unkind things at him, then looked up to see the Storm holding the baseball bat. "What're you doing?" Benoit asked.
"Teaching this little piece of shit a lesson!" the Storm replied as he started to pound on Joe's ribs with the ugly-stick. Benoit watched for a minute, a stunned look on his face.
"Hey, hey, hey," Benoit said, grabbing his arm and pulling the ugly-stick away from him. "That's not fair, now," he said, audible to the nearest camera. The two stared at each other a moment, and then Benoit raised the ugly-stick and started to pound Joe with it. The Storm smirked and got a few kicks in before he saw a cadre of referees come running down to the ring. He slapped Benoit's arm and pointed.
The Wolverine looked up, saw this and immediately vacated the ring, allowing the officials to check on the unconscious Just Joe. Benoit handed the Storm his ugly-stick. The newcomer reversed his grip on the bat and did his two-fingered salute, then strode up the ramp alongside his partner to Benoit's music.
* * *
"What the hell was that?!" Foley bellowed at them as they reached the backstage area. "Are you two out of your mind? Joe has to be sent to a hospital because of what you just did!"
"Joe spreads rumors," the Storm said. "Rumors are an ugly thing...so I did the natural thing." He raised the baseball bat. "I beat him with an ugly-stick."
"I have a good mind to fine you!" Foley shouted. "Or better yet, suspend you!"
"You do that," the Storm said, "and I'll just come back anyway and rip through the roster like a hurricane."
"That's right," Benoit said. "You've screwed me over enough times, Foley. Just give me an excuse to screw you over."
Foley glowered at the two, then scowled. "I can't suspend you," he muttered angrily. "Benoit's too big a draw and you were a fan favorite until about two minutes ago, Storm. So you'll both be fined $1000 for what you did to Joe."
"Big deal," the Storm said.
Foley stared at him. "What are you saying? Don't you care that you put a man in the hospital?!"
The Storm glanced at Benoit, as if to say Is he always this irrational? Benoit shrugged. The newcomer turned back to Foley. "Look, I'll spell it out for you, Foley -- I am the Storm. I am a Force of Nature, and Nature is remorseless. I could have killed Joe, and I still wouldn't give a shit." He jerked a thumb at Benoit. "Now I've found a like-minded partner." He and Benoit shared a grin and tapped fists.
"You pull something like that again," Foley said, "and I'll have both of you thrown in jail."
The Storm shared another look with Benoit, then pushed past him as he went back toward his locker room. Foley watched them go and worried. He'd been the one that allowed the Storm to debut in the WWF...what had he done?
-more to come-
Disclaimer: All things WWF are property of Titan Sports. The Storm is a completely fictional character. I do incorporate a few traits from existing WWF wrestlers, but for the most part, he's my idea. For storyline-trackers, I started this fic before the revelation of Rikishi as the driver who ran over Stone Cold. I have yet to incorporate this into the story. If you have any ideas for who you think the Storm would team up with or go up against, let me know. Drop me a line at jay_winger_2k@hotmail.com
-=Jay 2K Winger=-