November 19, 1998 – New Haven Coliseum, New Haven, Connecticut
The blue and silver SmackDown set glowed under the arena lights as the cameras panned across a sold-out crowd waving signs: "Styles 3:16", "Jarrett Sucks", and one that simply read "Debra Call Me."
JR: "Ladies and gentlemen, earlier this week on Raw, Jeff Jarrett introduced J.J. Styles to life in the WWF… the hard way."
Footage rolled: Jarrett's guitar exploding across J.J.'s shoulder, splinters flying, the smug smirk on Double J's face.
King: "I still say it was beautiful craftsmanship. Shame to waste a guitar like that!"
JR: "That wasn't about music, King — that was about sending a message. And I got a feeling that message is about to get answered."
The Lone Wolf Speaks
"Violence Fetish" blasted over the PA. The crowd popped, many on their feet. J.J. Styles walked out slowly, leather jacket on, eyes locked forward, no smile — just a predator's focus. He slid into the ring, took a mic, and waited for the crowd noise to dip.
J.J.: "I came here to fight the best. I didn't come here to play guitar. Jarrett… you had your fun. You hit me when I wasn't looking. But that's the thing about cheap shots — you only get one. Next time, you're not getting the jump on me. I'm coming straight for you."
The crowd roared, chanting "STYLES! STYLES!"
J.J.: "You want to see who's the better man? Step in this ring without Debra, without your toys, without running your mouth… and I'll make sure the world remembers the night Jeff Jarrett got put to sleep."
He tossed the mic, music hitting again as he stared down the camera.
Match – J.J. Styles vs Val Venis
Val Venis sauntered to the ring, towel around his waist, sleazy grin plastered on his face.
King: "Here's a real athlete, JR — and he's got class, too!"
JR: "Class? King, the man literally introduces himself like a bad VHS tape."
The match started hot — Venis tried to overpower J.J., but the lone wolf's MMA background shone. Clinch knees, quick arm drags, a grounded kimura attempt that had Venis scrambling for the ropes.
At the 6-minute mark, J.J. hit a snap German suplex, followed by a running knee lift. The crowd was heating up when —
Jarrett Strikes Again
"With My Baby Tonight" hit, and the boos rained down. Jarrett strutted halfway down the ramp, distracting J.J. long enough for Venis to roll him up — 1… 2… kick out!
The distraction didn't work, but Jarrett wasn't done. He slid into the ring, steel chair in hand.
CRACK! The chair smashed across J.J.'s back, sending him sprawling.
The ref called for the bell — DQ win for J.J. — but the chaos didn't stop. Jarrett mounted him, raining down punches, one of them catching J.J. right across the eyebrow. Blood immediately trickled down his face.
JR: "Damn it! Styles is bleeding — Jarrett's busted him open!"
Jarrett ripped the leather jacket off J.J., yanked him up, and smashed the steel chair into his forehead again. The blood was flowing freely now, dripping onto the mat.
King: "This is beautiful, JR! Look at the passion, the aggression — Jarrett's making a point!"
Pull-Apart
Officials swarmed the ring, pulling Jarrett away as the crowd booed heavily. Jarrett smirked, pointing to the bloodied J.J. and mouthing, "You're not ready for me, boy."
J.J., on one knee, wiped the blood from his eye and glared at Jarrett — no fear, just pure intent.
Later – Hallway Encounter
After the show, J.J. sat in the locker room hallway, towel pressed to his cut. Stephanie McMahon walked past, slowed, and stopped.
"You're bleeding," she said, tone matter-of-fact but with a faint hint of concern.
"Yeah. Jarrett made sure of it."
Stephanie's eyes narrowed slightly. "Good. Now you've got a reason to take him apart."
She didn't wait for a response, just kept walking. J.J. watched her leave, the words echoing in his head.