The Second City Saints (Ace Steel & CM Punk) vs. BJ Whitmer & Dan Maff
July 24, 2004
ROH Death Before Dishonor II – Night 2

‘Twas a few weeks before Christmas, when all through VOW
All the reviewers were reviewing, to provide written content for you;
The Secret Santa matches were given out with care,
In hopes that they had a good match to share;

I was nestled all snug in my chair,
While visions of Ace Steel & CM Punk vs. BJ Whitmer & Dan Maff filled the air;
I had never seen but have heard much about this match,
and I knew it was bloody so with this itch comes a scratch,

When out from the entrance came Allison Danger,
in a neck brace because Homicide was a spinal rearranger.
This rowdy crowd all said hold up,
When they told poor Allison to “shut the fuck up”.

The weapons were brought out, including barbed wire,
A foreign object that never makes me go drier,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a future AEW producer, who uses his mouth like a shear,

Everyone dressed in street fight denim, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment this match would be sick.
The Second City Saints, two men without flaw,
Out here defending the ring in Chicago invoking castle law;

“Now, Whitmer! now, Steel! now, Maff and Punk!
On, violence! on violence! on, violence and violence!
I’m waiting for chairshots to the top of the head! to the top of the dome!
Now bleed! bleed! bleed!”

The Saints with the early tribute to Dusty,
The always raucous Chicago crowd remained bloodlusty,
So up to the top rope where CM Punk flew,
And if he didn’t get smacked in the head, Ace Steel would’ve too.

And then, with a twinkling, I saw first blood
and I knew that unlike Rampage ratings this wouldn’t be mud.
Maff and Whitmer started to undress in a form of comradeship,
Down the belts came with great force, a tremendous whip.

Tables, ladders, and chairs, oh my,
The faces mounted a comeback you couldn’t deny;
Nautical nonsense is something I always wish,
Busting my gut seeing Maff drop on the mat and flop like a fish.

Punk brings in a barbed wire stick,
Because, as The Elite know, he’s kinda a prick!
But the heels reversed with one little trick,
And Punk got the two by four right in the dick;

The intensity continued with the barbed wire board,
And trying to fend off the attack but failing meant it was Punk’s reward;
With it in the corner now, Punk stopped in fear,
but his and Maff’s bodies were mangled from a giant Spear.

As the match reached its final climax,
Both teams went on through with chair attacks;
All four men ate the chair shots with porousness,
To justify an end to this rivalry and prove their toughness;

In the end though as this is indeed Christmas,
The fans threw all of their chairs into the ring with impulsiveness,
The brawl continued ankle-deep in chairs with no footing being stable,
And to finish the match Ace Steel gives BJ Whitmer a top-rope tombstone piledriver through a goddamn table!!

I am grateful that my Secret Santa is also a blood pervert,
For this was as delightful as a frozen dessert.
Knowing the fine VOW folks, a correct guess I have not a prayer,
but I will go ahead and thank Kevin Hare.

A wild brawl that ended with all four men looking like they came from abattoirs,
I’ll give this gory gloriousness 4 and a quarter stars.
And because this is a review based on that one poem I have to end this with