By: Jay Winger
Note: This is set immediately after "Storm Warning: Texas Style." To recap: the Storm celebrated his submission victory over Chris Benoit with the Acolytes (who were celebrated their victory over T&A) with some beer, but then Commissioner Mick Foley booked the three of them in a six-man tag against Benoit and T&A. Trish's interference prevented the Storm from hitting the Windfall on Benoit, and then Test was able to score a pumphandle slam on Faarooq to pick up the win. Rikishi came to the ring to crush the Texan team, prompting Stone Cold Steve Austin to run out and Stunner Rikishi and T&A while the Storm hit the Southern Lightning on Benoit. The four Texans celebrated with a beer. On Smackdown!, the Storm told Just Joe to find out who Benoit's "black-masked yahoos" were, then bumped into Steven Richards -- leading to an eight-man tag with Austin, the Acolytes, and the Storm against Right to Censor. Austin won the match for the Texan "Lone Star" team by Stunnering Richards, and then once again the team shared some beer. Backstage, however, Benoit conspired with his Radicalz buddies and said they'd take the Storm down a peg "with a little help from my 2x4-swinging friends."
MONDAY: RAW is WAR, Jul. 27
Bradshaw and Faarooq were unloading a 30-pack of Natural Light beer into the small fridge in the APA office when the Storm entered the "office" with a grin on his face. He swung his duffel bag to the floor, then looked up. "One thing I'll say for the WWF T-shirt people," he said, unzipping his bag, "they sure do work fast." He reached into the bag and held up a black t-shirt, which had a silver shape of Texas on the front. Red-and-gray lettering at the top of the star read LONE STAR. The Storm smirked and turned the shirt around. On the back, it read DON'T MESS WITH TEXAS in silver letters.
"Hey, cool," Faarooq said in his deep rumble as the Storm tossed him a shirt. "Great design, man."
"Yeah, I think so too," the Storm said. He tossed Bradshaw a shirt too, then frowned a bit as he pulled out a few shirts. One was his original shirt (the one he'd worn at his debut in January), one was his I AM A FORCE OF NATURE shirt, and one was his latest SEEK SHELTER shirt. There was also an APA PROTECTION shirt and a WWF COME GET SOME shirt. Currently, he was wearing a plain black T-shirt without a design, but contemplated the shirts in front of him. "Now I gotta decide which of these I'm gonna wear tonight."
"Well, we're gonna wear these," Bradshaw said, indicating the Lone Star shirts. "You talked to Steve yet?"
"Yeah, saw him by the commish's office. I gave him one too." The Storm looked up. "We're in separate matches tonight, by the way. Steve's fighting Val Venis, you guys have Lo Down, and I've got Triple H. Most of RTC's still feelin' the effects of the beatdown we gave 'em on Thursday. I hear Richards had to see a chiropractor after that Stunner." The Acolytes chuckled.
"Well, if you're fightin' Hunter," Faarooq said, "watch out for Steph. She'll probably try to save her husband's skin."
"She tries anything," the Storm said, "then screw Helmsley. I'll teach her not to mess with a Force of Nature."
"By the way," Bradshaw said as he popped open a beer, "you found those two guys who attacked you?"
"Not yet," the Storm said. He frowned as he removed his black tee and put on the Lone Star tee. "But I think something's up. Those two guys worked for Benoit, I'm sure of it...and Benoit's been known to pal around with Helmsley..."
"You want us to keep an eye on things from the gorilla position during your match?" Faarooq offered.
"Sure," the Storm said. He tugged the shirt fully on, then seated himself at the table, getting himself a beer. "Steve's match is early tonight, so he'll be back later."
* * *
As it happened, Austin's match was very early that night. Steven Richards accompanied Val Venis to ringside, though he looked in a bit of pain, from the way he limped and held his back and neck. Val was very quickly taken apart by Austin, who combined his brawling style with his wrestling ability and soon hit a Stunner on Val for the pin. Richards was careful not to get in Austin's reach during and after the match, just pulling Val out of the ring and helping him to the back.
But during Austin's post-match beer-swilling celebration, two men, dressed in all black with black ski masks -- they looked, for all intents and purposes, like black-clad Conquistadors -- carrying wooden 2x4s. Austin, who was on the opposite side of the ring, facing away from them, didn't see them until they were already in the ring. The first swung the board and connected with Austin's skull. The Rattlesnake fell, his beer cans spinning away as the second swung his board down and into Austin's chest and stomach. The two black-clad men pummeled Austin's knees, then left the ring and headed back up the ring as the officials came out to check on Austin.
Stone Cold was out cold, his head bleeding and knee braces broken. EMTs soon came to the ring as the fans stared on in shock.
* * *
In the back, the Storm and the Acolytes had seen this on the monitor in the APA office. The Storm tensed when the black-clad attackers appeared. "That's them," he said in a growl. "Those're the two black-masked yahoos that jumped me." He pulled his ugly-stick out of his bag and started out of the office, but Bradshaw stopped him.
"Wait," the white Acolyte said. "Could be a trap. You know, lure you or us out where Benoit and the Radicalz jump us."
"Yeah," Faarooq agreed. "Benoit's trying to mess with your mind. Don't let him get to you."
"You know those guys are gonna attack you during your match," the Storm pointed out.
"If it'll make you feel better," Bradshaw said, "you can watch from the gorilla position. If those guys show up, you can come out and beat 'em with an ugly-stick, okay?"
The Storm forced a smirking smile. "Okay."
* * *
During their match with Lo Down, the Acolytes dominated. Despite the newer team's talent, Bradshaw and Faarooq's sheer size and power overwhelmed D'Lo and Chaz. To their credit, Lo Down was able to come back and tried to set Bradshaw up for a Chaz superplex, but he battled out of it, threw Chaz off and dropped an elbow on him from the second rope. Faarooq bealed D'Lo off the other corner, pulling him back up for a Dominator and the 1...2...3.
But while Faarooq was pinning D'Lo, the two black-clad men appeared out of the audience. Bradshaw didn't see the nearest one as he was reaching over the ropes to grab Chaz (who had rolled out of the ring to escape). This allowed the nearest of the two attackers to brain him with his 2x4. Bradshaw staggered and slumped against the ropes, leading to another blow from the board, which flattened him. Chaz looked on.
Meanwhile, the other attacker had slid into the ring behind Faarooq, clobbering him from behind. The black Acolyte went down, and got a few shots to his kidneys and spine with the 2x4 before the two Black Masks looked up to see a team of officials coming down the ramp, behind an incensed Storm, who held his ugly-stick in hand. The two attackers left the ring and jumped the security barrier, disappearing into the crowd as security guards kept the enraged fans from attacking the masked men.
The Storm entered the ring, glowering after the retreating attackers, who stopped near one of the exits to look back at him. The Storm raised his ugly-stick in the air, swept in around in a quarter-circle, pointed it at the black-clad attackers and gave a slow throat cut.
* * *
Commissioner Mick Foley was having a staring contest with his stuffed toy dog on his desk when the Storm barged in. "Foley!" The commish didn't respond, except to raise a finger (as if to say "one minute"), and kept staring at the toy dog. The Storm looked at him for a moment, then grabbed the toy and flung it across the boiler room.
"Hey, I was about to make him blink!" Foley protested, then stopped as he saw the look on the Storm's face.
"Foley, I don't know who those two black-masked yahoos are," the Force of Nature said, "but I want 'em on Smackdown!"
"Look, Storm," Foley said, "I'd love to do just that, but see, I don't know who they are either. I don't want this to turn into another confusing charade like that Conquistadors thing last year--"
"I don't care about that," the Storm interrupted. "You give me those men in black, or I start attacking everyone on the roster who isn't part of Lone Star."
Foley held up his hands. "Whoa, easy. I can't guarantee that you'll get your match, but I'll definitely take it under advisement." He paused, then picked up his gavel and hesitantly tapped it on his desk. The Storm harrumphed and stomped out of the boiler room.
* * *
Sirens blared as the symbol of the Force of Nature flashed on the screen. The fans started to cheer as thunder rumbled, the sirens cutting off. "Seek shelter...the Storm...has...ARRIVED!" Lightning shot down and set off his pyro, and then the Storm strode through the smoke to the ring, ugly-stick in hand. "The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Making his way to the ring, from Dallas, Texas, weighing in at 239 pounds...he is a member of Lone Star...THE STORM!"
The Storm climbed in the ring and up on one of the posts, pointing at his shirt, then raising his ugly-stick in the air. The fans cheered and some tried to start a "Storm! Storm!" chant. He pointed his stick out at the fans, then swept it around in a circle to point it at the TitanTron as the techno music of Triple H began, the words START GAME appearing.
Triple H appeared, head bowed, water bottle in hand. He raised it and poured water over his head, then tilted his head back to suck in a mouthful of water, which he spewed into the air, shaking his hair out as he started down the ramp, sneering. The Storm tossed his sunglasses and baseball bat to the timekeeper as referee Earl Hebner kept him away from Triple H as the Game did his entrance routine. "And his opponent...from Greenwich, Connecticut, weighting in at 246 pounds...TRIPLE H!"
Triple H sucked in another mouthful of water as he came to ringside, then tossed the bottle to the timekeeper as he jumped up on the ring apron. He glared at the Storm for a moment, then out at the fans. He stood on the apron a moment, then shot his arms up to the sides, spewing water in the air and grimacing. He grabbed the ropes, spat the rest of the water out, and stepped into the ring, going across to pose on the ropes, then stepping off them and facing the Storm. The two stared each other down.
They locked up, and Triple H's bigger size allowed him to push the Storm back for a moment, but then the Storm shoved his arms away and jumped up, landing a dropkick to Triple H's chest. Helmsley staggered back, then charged, but the Storm hit a drop-toe hold that caused him to fall throat-first on the rope. Triple H gagged and fell off, clutching at his throat as the Storm got up and tried to twist his arm around for a hammerlock. The Game, however, shook him off and got back up.
The Storm circled around Triple H as he got back to his feet, then grabbed his arm and whipped him into the ropes. The Storm jumped for a Thesz press, but Helmsley grabbed the ropes and stopped himself. The Storm landed shakily on his feet and staggered a bit, allowing Triple H to knock him down with a clothesline. He got down next to him, then started to punch him in the temple repeatedly, but then the Storm raked his eyes as he got up. Triple H charged, and the Storm grabbed his arm and hiptossed him. He floated over and started to twist around Helmsley's legs into a Figure Four.
Before Triple H could stop him, the Storm had it locked in and was putting pressure on his legs. Triple H shouted in pain and lurched toward the ropes. The Storm kept him back as long as he could, but he managed to get hold of the bottom rope, so the Storm extracted his legs and stood back up, going toward the corner. Triple H, however, grabbed him before he could get there and brough him down in a backbreaker on his knee.
Helmsley went for a quick pin, but the Storm got a shoulder up. Grimacing, Triple H got up and climbed up on the second rope and went for a fistdrop, but the Storm planted his feet in his ribs and shoved him back into the corner. The Storm got back up and delivered a few chops to the chest, then whipped him across the ring. The Force of Nature followed, but was stopped cold by an elbow to the head from the Game.
The Storm turned to face him again, catching Triple H as he charged -- hitting a belly-to-belly overhead suplex. The Storm got back up, stuck a finger in his mouth, then raised it in the air. He went over to the corner and climbed up to the top, holding the ropes and leaning back as Hunter got unsteadily to his feet. As he faced the corner, the Storm pounced out in the Windfall. He flattened Triple H and went for the pin. 1...2...and Hunter kicked out.
The Storm stood him up and whipped him into the ropes, not seeing the black-clad men running out from alongside the ramp as Chris Benoit made his way down it. Triple H came back with a kneelift that caught the Storm by surprise as the 2x4-wielding black-clad men entered the ring. The referee went to stop them, but Benoit was in and shoving Hebner away. Triple H pulled the Storm back up, turning him to face the attackers. The Storm had just enough time to see them and register surprise before the first 2x4 cracked into his face. Hebner called for the bell as Lillian Garcia announced, "And the winner of this match as the result of a disqualification...THE STORM!"
That, unfortunately, did not save the Storm from getting attacked by both black-clad men with 2x4s. Finally, Triple H picked the semi-conscious Storm up and thrust his head between his thighs, face-down, then hooked up his arms. He held there for a moment, then jumped slightly and fell to his knees, driving the Storm's head into the mat in the Pedigree. He got off of him as Benoit came over and grabbed his left hand. He pinned it between his thighs and wrapped his hands in front of the Storm's face and leaned back in the Crippler Crossface. The Storm, despite the haze on his brain from the beating, hissed in pain and clenched his fist.
"Come on, scream!" Benoit growled at him. "Scream! Scream or I'll put you out!"
"I-I'll never...give you...the pleasure!" the Storm hissed through his teeth as he squinted his eyes shut from the pain.
Benoit snarled and pulled harder. Hebner and more officials were out to try and separate the two, but Triple H and the black-clad men chased them off. Benoit kept the Crossface locked on as the Storm aimed an elbow at his temple, but Benoit kept his head out of the way. Soon, the Storm's struggles got weaker and his body started to go limp. Benoit sneered in triumph and tugged harder. The Storm hissed in pain again, but still did not tap the mat or scream.
As Sgt. Slaughter came to the ring, the black-clad men and Triple H finally pulled at Benoit's arms, and the Crippler King stood up, looking down at the unconscious Storm. He spit on him, then stepped out of the ring with his cohorts and backed up the ramp as the officials checked on the Force of Nature. Benoit gave his sadistic little smile as he backed up the ramp. His music played as the Black Masks tossed away their 2x4s and slapped a high-five.
THURSDAY: Smackdown!, Jul. 30
Chris Benoit stepped down into the basement of the arena with his black-masked cohorts and glanced around. He looked up the stairs at Perry Saturn and Eddie Guerrero, who nodded to him. Benoit turned back to his partners. "All right, look, good job beatin' down Storm on Monday, but he's too stupid to know when to quit. If I know him--" He smiled evilly. "--and I do--he'll be back tonight to try and track us down. Now, he's smart enough to know not to come into the Radicalz dressing room, so I'll lure him this way again, and you can bash his thick skull in, eh?"
The Black Masks nodded silently.
"Good. You just wait here, then." He turned and joined his Radicalz partners upstairs.
The Masks watched him go, then looked at each other and shrugged. They seated themselves in the dark on some folding chairs, but then abruptly, the door upstairs swung shut, plunging the basement into darkness.
* * *
Later that night, Benoit returned to the basement. "Hey, guys," he said to the two men seated in the darkened room, "looks like Lone Star isn't here tonight. That's okay, `cuz I got a job for ya anyway. Hunter'n me gotta match tonight against Jericho and Angle." The Canadian pronounced it 'agaynst.' "So you guys stay at the gorilla position after I go out, and come out after we win the match. You know what to do from there."
One of the black-clad men nodded.
"Good. You wait in the dressing room with Eddie, Perry, and Dean. Once my match starts, then go to the gorilla position."
Another nod. Silently, the two men rose from their seats and picked up their 2x4s, walking silently past Benoit. The Crippler King frowned as they passed and could have sworn they looked shorter, but he shrugged it off. Probably just the shadows.
* * *
During the tag match between the Triple H/Benoit team and the team of Chris Jericho/Kurt Angle, Benoit got the Crossface on his long-time nemesis Jericho with his usual Jericho-reserved violence, and Triple H was wailing on Angle with his usual fury. Angle, however, managed to throw Hunter off of him and landed a double-axe handle to Benoit's head. Benoit got back up, but Angle was quick to land an Olympic Slam. Triple H moved toward Angle, but Jericho was over with a spear. He grabbed Hunter's legs and began to twist him around, stepping over as he bent Helmsley's back in the Walls of Jericho. Referee Earl Hebner tried to figure out who to stop first -- Angle, who was unloading punches to Benoit's temple, or Jericho, who had Triple H locked in the Walls.
The problem was solved when two men dressed in all black -- complete with Conquistador-like masks -- ran down the ramp and into the ring with 2x4s. They started toward Angle and Jericho, but the Olympian and Y2J dropped their opponents and left the ring as the black-clad men closed on them. Hebner backed away from them as they paced the ring, looking out at Angle and Jericho, then back at Benoit and Triple H. Benoit smirked as he got up, beckoning the two to enter the ring as Helmsley gave a similar smile.
Both those smiles vanished as the black-clad men abruptly turned and smacked their 2x4s into the heads of the heels. The booing that the fans had been making since the black-clad men's appearance turned to confused cheers. Benoit and Triple H staggered around as the men tossed their weapons away. Benoit staggered to a stop in front of one of them, who gave him an Italian arm chop, then jabbed him in the solar plexus, then turned and heaved him up on a shoulder. The black-clad man dropped to one knee, piledriving Benoit's head. Michael Cole was going ballistic, shouting, "That was the Southern Lighting! That's the Storm's finisher! What's going on?"
As the first black-clad man got up and raised two fingers to his forehead to give Benoit's prone body a fierce salute, the other looked at a still woozy Triple H and gave him two middle fingers. Realization sunk in on the Game's face seconds before the black-clad man swiftly kicked him in the gut and then turned and grabbed his head. He dropped to the mat in what could only be the Stunner as Triple H reeled back and to the mat. The fans were cheering now as the two black-clad men slapped a high-five. They stood over the prone heels and raised their gloved hands to their masks. Pulling them off, the Storm and Stone Cold Steve Austin gave satisfied grins as they looked at their prone nemeses.
The Storm and Austin removed the gloves from their outfits as the Force of Nature took the mic. "Hey, Benoit," he said, leaning over him. "This was your Storm Warning. Austin and I hereby declare 'Benoit 101' officially closed." He grinned up at Austin, who was removing the shirt from his black-clad outfit (underneath was a Lone Star tee), then back at Benoit. "Oh, you wanna know what happened to your black-masked yahoos?" He stood up and beckoned at the OvalTron entrance. He removed his own shirt, revealing his own Lone Star tee.
The Acolytes walked out, wearing new tights with the red-and-silver star logo on it, and wearing Lone Star shirts. They pushed two men in front of them. One was Test, and the other was Just Joe. They shoved them down toward the ring, where the Storm and Austin threw them their masks.
"See, Benoit," the Storm explained, "I knew you'd try to pull something with these two yahoos. So I countered your little Pearl Harbor by Pearl Harboring them. Soon as you stepped outta the basement, me an' Austin whooped their asses and put those masks on. You never suspected." He shook his head. "Man, you're dumber'n I thought. Is Austin anywhere near as tall as Testy here?"
The Storm shook his head and nodded to the Acolytes, who happily grabbed Test and Joe and proceeded to beat them down. Test was powerbombed by Bradshaw while the hapless Just Joe got just flattened by a Dominator. The Storm and Austin threw Benoit and Triple H out of the ring, while the Acolytes did the same with the unmasked Black Masks. The Storm sneered after them, and then all four Texans turned to the timekeeper, raising a hand in the air. Even the fans screamed, "Beer me!"
As Lone Star had some beer, the Storm toasted the fans and crowed, "Don't mess with Texas!"
MONDAY: RAW is WAR, Aug. 3
Commissioner Mick Foley looked at the assembled people in the boiler room -- better known as the Commissioner's Office. On one side of the room stood Lone Star, who were all glowering across at Chris Benoit, Triple H, Test, and Just Joe. Foley had made them promise not to lay a finger on each other tonight, or he'd suspend them all.
"Okay, it seems to me," Foley said, "that we have ourselves a really nasty thing brewing here. If I just let you all go without resolving this, you'll keep attacking each other and ruining matches. We can't have that."
"Sure," the Storm said dryly, eyes not leaving Benoit's face. "That'd be bad for business, right?"
"Exactly," Foley said. "So, what I'm gonna do is this -- at Summerslam, Storm, Benoit, you two will face each other in a steel cage."
"Perfect," the Storm said with a smirk. "Lotsa ways for me to hurt him in one of those."
"You got it backwards," Benoit snapped.
"Guys," Foley said, and the two fell silent. "Also, Faarooq, Bradshaw will face Joe and Test in a tag-team match. But it won't be just any kind of tag match, no, it'll be a street fight tag match."
The Acolytes silently nodded, not taking their eyes off the rumormonger and ex-bodyguard. Test and Just Joe looked back. Joe looked a tad nervous, but tried to look serious. The Storm glanced over at Joe, made a fake lunge at him, causing the rumormonger to jump back in fear. The Texans laughed. Foley glowered a bit, but the Texans kept grinning.
"And that leaves us with Triple H and Stone Cold," Foley said, looking at the two nearest him. "The last time you two went at it, Steve, you lost it. I don't want a repeat of that. In three weeks, at Summerslam, you two will face each other in the ring in a First Blood Match."
"Fine by me," Austin drawled.
"Same here," Triple H said.
"Now, I'm once again instigating the no-touching stipulation," the commish went on. "Between now and Summerslam, you are not to lay a finger on each other. That also means not hiring anyone else to attack the others. The moment anyone makes a run-in on another's match, then their match at Summerslam will be cancelled and they will not participate in the event."
Nods all around. "No sweat," the Storm said. "Like I keep sayin', I'm a Force of Nature, and I can wait as long as I need to get my hands on you," he said this to Benoit.
"Come Summerslam," Benoit promised, "you'll know for sure why I'm called the Crippler."
-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. Obviously, the next part will catch us up to Summerslam and will feature the Storm's Cage Match against Chris Benoit. Lone Star will be around for a bit, as will Benoit's alliances with Triple H, the Radicalz, and Test and Just Joe. 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=-