SMARKDOWN FEBRUARY 12TH!

February 13, 2003

SWF Smarkdown! for February 12, 2003

LIVE from the SOLD-OUT Madison Square Garden in New York City!

Tag Team Match

Wild & Dangerous (Wildchild & Johnny "The Barracuda" Dangerous) v. Perfect Bo & J Dawg

It appears as if the Commissioner was in a foul mood when he booked this match. The new bumpee tag team will have to face off against two of the nastiest, most brutal and downright dangerous vets in the Fed. Will they survive? Will Bo and JD be able to co-exist? Is there any way this won;t be incredible?

Singles Match

"TNT" Taylor Nicholas Thompson v. Stryke

What better way to prove TNT belongs "back home" in the M7 than by beating the man who, in recent weeks, took out both X and Perfect Bo? As for Stryke, what better way to show he belongs at the top of the card than by beating the #1 Contender?

Singles Match

Ejiro Fasaki v. Longdogger Pete

There is some bad blood between these two men, and it goes back a way. And what better way to either settle this (not likely) or make it far worse (hopefully) than a good, old fashioned 'rasslin match?

Hardcore Gamers Title Match

Judge Mental © v. Annie Eclectic

This match has been a long time in coming, and the hate has just been simmering for weeks now. Finally, Annie gets her one-on-one shot to reclaim the Title she loves from the man she hates.

The Commissioner Speaks!!

After their matches, the Suicide King has some punishment to dish out for the first three people eliminated in the Clusterf*ck match. X is already gone, but Judge and Ejiro are still here...

Non-Title Singles Match

El Luchadore Magnifico © v. Fugue

This is the opportunity of a lifetime for the recent bumpee Fugue. What heights could he rise to with a clean, pinfall win over the SWF World Champion on live television from the "Cathederal of Pro Wrestling", Madison Square Garden? And with ELM coming off a brutral battle with Perfect Bo, he might just be ripe for the picking...

The Main Event

Tornado Tag Team Title Match

Tom Flesher & Frost © v. Mak Francis & CIA

Mak and CIA have been gearing up for this match for weeks, only to be stymied time and time again by circumstances beyond their control. Now they have their shot at Tag Team gold. This match features the Tag Champions, the ICTV Champ and the U.S. Champ (not to mention Tom). History will be made at MSG!!

February 13, 2003

“This is SWF Smarkdown!” booms the voice of every bodies favor Heavy Hitter. “Grand Slam Mark Stevens here, along side Bobby Riley, LIVE, from the SOLD-OUT Madison Square Garden in New York City!”

“What a show we have in store for with a Main Event sure to tear the house down!” mentions Riley insincerely as he quite frankly looks bored out of his mind.

Stevens follows up. “Later tonight, we’ll also here from SWF commissioner, The Suicide King, as he has some punishment to dish out for the three men eliminated first in the Clusterfuck.”

“Judge and Ejiro don’t deserve it!” yells Riley. “And whoever that third guy was too…” Mark sighs at the mention of X, who was tossed by Stryke number one. Bobby just shrugs his shoulders and continues. “In the current jerk…err, I mean opening match, Wild & Dangerous take on Perfect Bo & Jay Dawg in Tag Team action, which should REALLY get the crowd going…” says Bobby Riley continuing with his disingenuous tone.

Mark nods his head actually surprised at Riley’s further for tonight’s card. As he turns to the camera, Riley mimes slapping him upside the head. “Ejiro Fasaki and Longdogger Pete look to settle some issues,” says Stevens, “while both our current number one contender to and champion of SWF World title, ‘TNT’ Taylor Nicholas Thompson and El Luchadore Magnifico are in singles action tonight against Stryke and M7 member Fugue respectively.”

“Filthy Mexican carnie…” mumbles Bobby. “We also have a return grudge match for the Hardcore title, as REIGNING and all around better Hardcore champion Judge Mental goes against Annie Eclectic!”

“And our MAIN EVENT-“

Suddenly, the house lights shut off, as the wispy sounds of a digital xylophone echo throughout the arena. You can feel the pulsation of the light dings, as a hard beat done by violins, suddenly strikes up slightly overshadowing the original background rhythm.

“So do you wanna’ be a Franchise… And live large… A big house… five cars…”

The SmarkTron flares up with a blue and white photonegative image of Mak Francis, which is followed by ‘The Franchise’ in large green lettering, flashing on the screen in time with the beat.

“The rent charge… Comin’ up in the world, don’t trust nobody… Gotta’ look over your shoulder constantly!”

Then the lights in the arena change, slightly, everything acquiring a red tinge, as the SmarksTron cuts from Francis’s photonegative to a Canadian flag, flowing in the wind, as the instrumental accompaniment to 'O Canada' begin. The crowds previous roar of approval is duplicated ten fold as the first verse plays through, before a soft, digitized female voice cuts in, whispering through the arena speakers for all to hear…

'Midnight Carnival'!

The image on the SmarksTron, showing the members of the Carnival standing side by side for a single instant, and then the Smarktron shows highlights of some of CIA's finest moments, as the opening riff to 'Secret Agent Man' follows, leading in the emergence of a masked figure and his Franchisable partner!

“And what an OVATION from this capacity crowd!” adds Stevens as Mak and CIA stand atop the ramp. The tandem walk down the ramp CIA slapping hands as Francis enters the ring and asks for a mic. “And it looks as though we’re going to hear from the number one contenders to the SWF Tag Team Titles!”

“Like they even have a shot!” adds Riley. “Tom and Frost are a well oiled…” Bobby pauses wiping some drool from his chin. “Uh… machine, yeah!”

The ring attendant hands Mak a mic as CIA slides into the ring. “Yo, I’m proud to be here, in the "Cathederal of Pro Wrestling",” and the crowd pops at the mention of their legendary status. Riley meanwhile mumbles about cheap pop, “wearing this US title belt around my waist and Danny Williams,” starts Francis pausing for a second as he learns against the ropes, “Danny-boy, you got a rematch coming you’re way.”

“And I’ll give it to you,” states Mak as he lowers his shades, “anywhere, anyplace, ANY-time!”

“Now onto tonight’s MAIN EVENT…” begins Francis. “It’s the Franchise and the Dream going toe to toe with Mag Seven. And you had better believe we’re bringing our best tonight. We’ve been chomping at the bit waiting for this shot and when it all goes down it ain’t gonna be pretty!”

Francis hands CIA the mic and the crowd pops huge for the carnie. “Ain’t that the truth, eh?”

“Tell me one NYC, who’s your favorite, true as Labatt blue, Canadian carnie dude!” The crowd roars back with a deafening “IT’S YOOOOU!”. CIA nods his head and continues to speak his peace. “Seeing as we’re at the mecca of the mat, MSG eh,” CIA pauses, giving the audience a chance to pop.

"Me and Mak Daddy go for some gold tonight. We're up against the Mag 7, so you know there'll be a fight. Noone can stand against the most furious of storms, so for Flesher and Frost, it's time to be warned." Smiling, CIA points back and forth between he and mak, and both men take a corner as CIA tilts back his microphone for one last line. "There’s an International Incident on the ho-ri-zon; and when it's all over, we’ll be the victorious ones!”

The crowd pops one more time, and CIA and Francis pose one more time in mid ring before vacating the ring, cameras retuning to Stevens and Riley.

“Well, you’ve just heard from the challengers to tonight’s MAIN EVENT,” states Stevens, “but up next the recently bumped Wild & Dangerous versus former Creative Control members, Perfect Bo & Jay Dawg!” In ring, CIA tosses the mic to an attendant, while he and Mak pose in the ring, as we go to commercial break.

February 13, 2003

FADE IN

Fireworks explode on the stage as the fans scream in anticipation of the nights’ events. “Welcome to Smarkdown,” says ‘Grand Slam’ Mark Stevens. “We come to you live, along with twenty-two thousand fans, from the Mecca of professional wrestling, Madison Square Garden! Good evening, ladies and gentlemen; I’m Mark Stevens, along with Bobby Riley, and Bobby, we’ve got a great card lined up for this evening! Two titles will be on the line! In the main event, the Magnificent Seven will put their tag team titles on the line against the Franchise and CIA in a Texas Tornado Match!

SPLASH SCREEN

(Graphic appears on the screen of Tom Flesher and Frost wearing matching Magnificent Seven football jerseys, posing with the SWF Tag Team Titles on their shoulders (Frost also has the ICTV title around his waist), as well as Mak Francis and CIA. A graphic of a tornado moves in the background.)

SPLASH SCREEN

(V.O.) “That’s right,” agrees Bobby Riley. “We’re also gonna see Judge Mental defend the Hardcore Title in a Hardcore Gamers Match against Annie Eclectic!”

(Graphic appears on the screen of Judge Mental in a Magnificent Seven football jersey, holding the Hardcore Title, staring into the camera with a malicious grin, as well as Annie Eclectic, swinging a Kendo stick menacingly.)

SPLASH SCREEN

(V.O.) Stevens adds, “we’re also going to see the World Heavyweight Champion, El Luchadore Magnifico, in a non-title exhibition against the rookie Fugue!”

(Graphic shows Fugue in a Magnificent Seven football jersey, wearing a deranged grin on his face, as well as ELM, posing exultantly with the World Heavyweight championship.)

SPLASH SCREEN

(V.O.) Stevens continues, “We’re also going to see another rookie, Ejiro Fasaki, challenging SWF Legend LDP!”

(Graphic shows Ejiro posing in a Magnificent Seven football jersey, as well as the Doggah.)

(V.O.) “The Magnificent Seven can really make an impact on Smarkdown tonight,” chimes in Riley. “I look for both Judge and Flesher & Frost to retain, and the two rookies can really make a name for themselves tonight!”

SPLASH SCREEN

(Graphic of Suicide King dressed in a gray suit, his hair pulled back.)

(V.O.) “We’re also going to hear from the Suicide King,” says Stevens, “It might not be all good for the M7 tonight, because I’ve heard that the King has something that he wants to say specifically to Judge and Ejiro! All that and more coming to you tonight, so let’s get right to the action!”

The timekeeper’s bell rings to draw the fans’ attention towards ringside. Funyon stands in the center of the ring, dressed in a crushed velvet leisure suit. The lights suddenly dim in the arena as Jay Dawg’s voice can suddenly be clearly heard screaming:

THIS

IS

MAH

HOUSE!

Fireworks explode throughout MSG as the harsh metal sound of Rammstein’s “Du Haste” begins to blast through the speakers. Funyon raises the microphone to his lips. “Our opening contest is a tag team match, scheduled for one fall!” First, making his way to the ring, from Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada, weighing in at two hundred forty-three pounds, Jay Dawg!” Jamie Drazon walks down to ringside amidst a chorus of boos, and steps into the ring, staring out into space with a look of mild irritation, as if angry for having to suffer the indignity of jerking the curtain.

The lights in the arena dim again, this time with a dull red hue barely radiating from the rafters. Finally, after a few seconds, 50 Cent’s voice can be heard saying, “Damn Homie, in high school you was the man Homie… what the fuck happen to you,” followed by the slow thug beat of his song “Wanksta.” The lights come back on as Perfect Bo strolls out, a cocky grin on his face. Funyon continues, “his tag team partner, from the Bronx, in New York City (brief pop from the home crowd) , weighing in at two hundred eighty-five pounds, Perfect Bo!” Midway down the ramp, Bo raises both his arms above him, his hands flashing his trademark sign as a red pyrotechnical burst explodes on the stage behind him, the words “THUG LIFE” flashing in bold letters on the SmarkTron. Bo walks up the stairs into the ring and steps between the ropes, sharing a tense look with Jay Dawg as he cracks his neck, preparing for the match.

Bo’s music fades out, to be replaced by the more upbeat instrumental version of 50 Cent’s “In Da Club.” The MSG crowd comes alive as the rookie sensations Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous bounce onto the stage from behind the SmarkTron. Johnny is wearing a white suit with a red bow tie and cummerbund, and Wildchild is dressed for the season with red and white face paint to replace his usual colors, as well as baggy red pants. Funyon says into the microphone, “and their opponents, at a total combined weight of four hundred twenty-seven pounds, Wild and Dangerous!” Johnny and Wildchild race down to the ring, slapping hands with the jubilant fans at ringside, and sliding simultaneously underneath the bottom rope into the ring. The two rookies spring to their feet as the crowd cheers raucously.”

“It looks like Johnny and Wildchild are dressed up in the spirit of Valentine’s Day,” notes Stevens.

“Yeah,” adds Riley, “and they look stupid! I mean, what grown man goes around dressed like that?”

“Well anyway, before this match gets started Bobby, who are you liking to come out with a win?”

“I think it should go without saying that I’m going for Bo and Jay Dawg in this match,” replies Riley. “I mean, all these two kids have going for them is a little bit of continuity from working together. Despite the issues that Bo and Jay Dawg have had in the past, you’ve got to like them in this match. Wild and Dangerous are giving away too much experience, too much size, and too much power. They never faced competition like this in the JL, Stevens.”

“I’ll agree with you on all of those points, Bobby,” says Stevens, “but I think you’re overlooking the importance of continuity in tag team wrestling. It wasn’t that long ago that Perfect Bo and Jay Dawg were at each other’s throats, and now they have to work together as a unit against two kids who could really give them a hard time, because of the way they wrestle.”

“Bah,” scoffs Riley. “That hit and run crap will only work for so long. Sooner or later, Bo and Jay Dawg will get their hands on one of them, and then they might as well cancel whatever plans they had for Valentine’s Day.”

Perfect Bo and Wildchild circle each other in the ring as Johnny Dangerous and Jay Dawg go to their respective corners. Referee Sexton Hardcastle signals to the timekeeper to ring the bell, indicating the start of the match. “Bell’s gone, and we’re underway,” notes Stevens. “Looks like Bo will be starting this one off against the exciting rookie Wildchild.”

Wildchild and Bo engage in a collar-and-elbow tie up, which Bo quickly shifts into a side headlock, turning Wildchild’s face out of view of the referee and thrusting his hand into the rookie’s throat. Wildchild drops to his knees trying to catch his breath, as Bo begins to hammer the back of his head and neck with clubbing forearm blows. After about five or six forearms, Wildchild falls flat against the canvas and, as he tries to get up, Bo shifts to a double axe handle and continues to pound mercilessly on the rookie’s neck and upper back, knocking him back to the mat every time he attempts to rise. A small but vocal contingent of Perfect Bo fans in the audience let out a small cheer as the Perfect one batters Wildchild in the center of the ring. “Welcome to the SWF, kid,” says Riley with a smirk.

Bo picks Wildchild up off the mat at whips him into the far ropes. Wildchild ducks a lariat attempt as he rebounds, and springs off the other set of ropes, leaping into the air with a cross-body block attempt, but Bo catches him in mid-air. “I told you,” crows Riley, “they’re too strong!” Bo struts around the ring with Wildchild in his arms, sneering at the crowd, but as he turns away from his corner he is surprised by Johnny Dangerous, who leaps from the top rope with a missile dropkick that knocks Bo down to the mat, with Wildchild atop him in a lateral press! The referee tries to count a pinfall, but Bo kicks out easily at a one count, as Jay Dawg rushes into the ring, making a beeline for the Barracuda. Drazon pushes Johnny into one corner and hammers on him as Bo abuses Wildchild in the other corner. They attempt to whip the two rookies into each other in the center of the ring, but Johnny manages to reverse Drazon, and he runs into a spinning back elbow from the Bahama Bomber! Johnny rushes at Bo, nailing him with a spinning heel kick as Wildchild kicks Drazon out of the ring. Johnny and Wildchild then team up to whip Bo into the ropes, catching him as he rebounds with a double hiptoss. They then wait for him to get up and send him back down the mat with a double dropkick! Wildchild then lies atop Bo for a pin attempt:

ONE!

TWO!

But Bo kicks out easily at two. “The referee shouldn’t have counted that pin,” grumbles Riley. “That was the direct result of an illegal double team!”

“Well, the wrestlers have a five count to get in and out of the ring,” replies Stevens, as Wildchild applies an arm wringer to Bo.

“Oh, don’t give me that crap, Stevens,” barks Riley, as Wildchild guides Bo into his corner and makes the crisp tag to Johnny. “First of all, you can’t tell me that they were only in the ring together for five seconds; I saw it with my own eyes. And secondly, it was still illegal, and the referee shouldn’t have counted it!” Johnny climbs to the top turnbuckle and jumps off, driving a double axe handle into Bo’s elbow. As Wildchild exits to the ring apron, Johnny picks up the arm wringer, wrenching Bo’s arm around, but Bo begins to back the Barracuda towards his corner, and pokes him in the eyes to free himself from the arm wringer, making the tag to Drazon, who comes into the ring to get caught in an arm drag takeover by Johnny. The Barracuda pulls Jay Dawg to his feet and applies an arm wringer before guiding him over to his corner and making the tag to Wildchild. The tropical tumbler takes over on the arm wringer, without relieving pressure, and makes a show of cranking Jay Dawg’s arm around two more times.

“Wild and Dangerous off to a good start,” notes Stevens, as Wildchild makes the quick tag back to Johnny, who resumes the arm wringer on Drazon. “I have to believe, though, that they’re going to have to come up with something sensational to put these two guys away. They most dangerous weapons that they have in their arsenal are the Wild Ride and the Cover Up and, quite frankly, I’m not too sure that they can even get it on either one of these guys, let alone beat them with it.”

“I’ve gotta agree with you there, Stevens,” adds Riley as Johnny wrenches Drazon’s arm around twice more, before again making the quick tag to Wildchild, who continues the arm wringer. “That’s why I said that size will be an significant advantage for Perfect Bo and Jay Dawg. Wild and Dangerous never faced competition like this in the JL. I think that in order for them to win, IF they can, they’re going to have to try to stick and move. They’re going to have to hit a few more double dropkicks, double maneuvers… you know, double up on Bo and Jay Dawg whenever they see an opportunity, because it’s obvious that the referee’s going to let them get away with it. I guess he feels sorry for them, or something.”

Wildchild rotates Jay Dawg’s arm once more, and the pain finally becomes too much to bear, as he flips forward to relieve the pressure. Wildchild drags Jay Dawg over to the ropes near his corner and then runs over towards the opposite corner, taunting Bo by sticking his tongue out at him. A furious Bo rushes into the ring, and as the referee orders him to return to the apron, Johnny drops down to the arena floor, grabbing Jay Dawg’s sore arm and holding it outside the ring as Wildchild races to his corner, springing onto the top turnbuckle and leaping out of the ring, landing on Jay Dawg’s exposed elbow with a flying elbow smash!

“It looks as if they’re going to take your advice, Bobby,” says Stevens. “And I think they’ve got a pretty good strategy going right now. Working the arm will make it difficult for Jay Dawg to secure that JD’s Revenge.”

“That’s exactly what they need to do, “ remarks Riley. “They need to keep Jay Dawg on their half of the ring, make frequent tags in and out of the corner, and keep hitting him with speed move.” Riley breathes out in a huff. “They may not be as stupid as they look, Stevens.”

“Most importantly,” adds Stevens, “they need to try to keep Bo on the apron as long as possible, because they simply cannot match power with him, and we’re not say that these two don’t have any power at all! I mean, they’re both professional athletes, and two hundred-plus pounders at that! I mean, it’s not an indictment against them, so much as a compliment to their opposition.” Wildchild rolls back into the ring and makes the tag to Johnny, who backs Drazon up against the far ropes, but catches a knee-lift to the midsection as Jay Dawg whips him into the ropes. Johnny grabs Jay Dawg by his wounded arm, however, and reverses the whip, catching Drazon on the rebound and taking him over with a powerslam.

“And that was a little show of power by Johnny Dangerous,” says Stevens. “He caught Jay Dawg sleeping with that powerslam!” The Barracuda pulls Jay Dawg to his feet and whips him back into the ropes, but this time, Jay Dawg is able to reverse it. Drazon puts his head down to deliver a backdrop and, as a result, Johnny sees it coming, giving him time to react and rotate through the backdrop, landing on his feet behind Drazon, but Bo rushes across the ring apron, nailing Johnny with a lariat from outside the ring that sends him falling to the canvas. Drazon walks over to his corner, clutching his arm as he makes the tag to Bo.

Drazon lifts Johnny up with his good arm and guides him over to the corner as Bo steps into the ring, and the two team up to heave Johnny forcefully into the turnbuckles, catching him as he bounces out with a double boot to the midsection, and then hammering him in the back with a double sledgehammer blow.

“Now we’ll see the experience of Bo and Jay Dawg show it’s dominance,” says Riley. “I expect to see them keep Dangerous on their half of the ring, and brutalize him with power moves.” Bo drags Johnny out into the middle of the ring and snatches him abruptly off the mat into a bearhug, then quickly pivots around on one foot, and yanks him overhead with a tremendous belly-to-belly suplex! Bo rolls over onto Johnny and hooks the far leg for a pinfall attempt…

ONE!

TWO!

THREEEE— NO! Johnny shoots the inside shoulder up to beat the three count. Bo pulls Johnny to his feet, but the Barracuda stuns him with a punch to the bread basket. Johnny follows the punch with a Shotei to the chest, and tries to gain momentum by blasting Bo with a spinning back fist to the cheek.

CRACK!

The crowd lets out a collective gasp as Johnny runs to the ropes and ducks a lariat attempt as he rebounds, but gets turned INSIDE OUT by a second lariat from the Perfect One. “What a shot,” cries Stevens.

“I believe he irritated Bo,” notes Riley, as Bo drags Johnny back to his corner and makes the tag.

“He certainly did, and Bo almost decapitated him with that lariat!” Jay Dawg enters the ring and climbs onto the second turnbuckle, leaping off and smashing Johnny with an elbow drop. He continues to lay atop the rookie and demands that the referee make a three count.

ONE!

TWO!

THREEEEEEE— NO! “Johnny kicks out at two and a half,” cries Stevens. Drazon picks Johnny up and leads him back into the corner, ramming him into the outstretched boot of the Perfect One before making the tag. Bo steps into the ring and drags Johnny’s head over to the ropes, grabbing the middle rope for leverage as he steps on the rookie’s throat. Referee Sexton Hardcastle delivers a five count to Bo, who takes the full count before relenting on the choke, as Jay Dawg remains in the ring, flipping Wildchild the bird in the corner. The referee orders Drazon out of the ring, and Bo takes the opportunity of the referee’s distraction to resume his choke. Having seen enough, Wildchild darts into the ring to attack Bo, but before he can even reach him, the referee stops him and orders him to turn around. With Wildchild screaming desperately at the referee to turn around, Bo lifts Johnny off the mat and drapes his throat across the top rope, as Jay Dawg grabs Johnny by the back of the head and falls off the ring apron, guillotining the Barracuda on the top rope.

“Wildchild comes in to try and help his partner,” remarks Stevens, “but it’s going to end up working to his dis-advantage.”

With Johnny still draped across the top rope, Bo begins hammering him with crushing double axe handle blows. “And that’s brilliant tag team wrestling on the part of Perfect Bo and Jay Dawg,” adds Riley. “Whenever you’ve got a guy who’s eager to get into the ring like Wildchild, do things to draw him in, because then the referee’s going to have to chase him out, and you can do a lot of damage. And I love the way they take advantage of the rookie’s impulsiveness!” Bo pulls Johnny out into the middle of the ring, whipping him into the ropes, and catching him on the rebound with a devastating Tilt-a-Whirl slam! Bo rolls over onto Johnny with a lateral press as the referee counts the pinfall…

ONE!

TWO!

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEE— NO! “Johnny barely gets the shoulder up,” screams Mark Stevens, as Bo badgers the referee about his count. “That was close!”

“That was close,” growls Riley. “There appeared to be a bit of hesitation on the part of referee Sexton Hardcastle!”

“Well, you may be right, Bobby,” replies Stevens as Bo scoops Johnny up off the mat and drops him back down with a body slam. “But I think that the referee noticed that Johnny had the shoulder up, and that the three count wasn’t there.”

CRASH!

Bo runs to the ropes to build up steam, and leaps into the air as he rebounds in order to drive an elbow into Johnny’s chest, but the Barracuda rolls safely out of the way in the nick of time. Johnny begins to roll toward his corner, desperately trying to tag the outstretched arm of the Wildchild, but Jay Dawg runs into the ring and drags the Barracuda backwards, out of the reach of his partner. Perfect Bo gets back to his feet and picks Johnny up as well, whipping him to the far ropes. Bo puts his head down to deliver a backdrop, but Johnny cinches in a front facelock as he runs up towards him and falls backwards, driving Bo’s face into the canvas with a DDT!

Both men lay motionless on the mat, with the crowd screaming desperately to rally Johnny to his feet.

LET’S GO JOHNNY! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!

Despite the crowd’s cheering, Bo is the first one to his feet, and he raises Johnny to his knees, battering the Barracuda with sledgehammer-like forearms. He backs Johnny against the near ropes and whips him towards the opposite side, but Johnny springs off the ropes with a running sidekick that catches Bo flush on the chin, as both men fall back to the canvas!

“WHOA,” cries Stevens, “there’s that patented Johnny Kick! That could turn out to be the break he needs, but it looks like that took a lot out of Johnny as well.”

LET’S GO JOHNNY! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!

With the crowd again solidly behind him, Johnny attempts to crawl back to his corner to make the tag. Bo, much closer to his own corner, reaches out to tag Jay Dawg, who rushes in immediately, snatching Johnny up in a waistlock, but the Barracuda snaps Drazon’s head back with a stiff elbow which breaks the hold and desperately lunges towards his corner, where he makes the tag!

The Bahama Bomber springs onto the top rope and leaps into the ring, flipping forward as he blasts Jay Dawg in the face with a Shooting Star dropkick! Wildchild picks him up and whips him into the ropes, leaping into the air as he rebounds and planting both feet into his midsection, arching back and taking him over with his patented Freefall monkey flip!

“Jay Dawg takes a Freefall, as Wildchild is on fire,” shouts Stevens. “And Bo catches an elbow in the corner from the Bahama Bomber!”

“And there’s no call for that,” snaps Riley. “What’s the idea of attacking the guy outside the ring?”

Wildchild turns around as Jay Dawg starts to get up, and rushes him, leaping into the air and blasting him with a fierce leg lariat. Wildchild rolls to his feet near the heels’ half of the ring, and Bo runs across the apron looking to nail Wildchild with a lariat like he got Johnny earlier, but the Caribbean cruiserweight ducks underneath Bo’s lariat attempt and streaks to the opposite corner, leaping onto the second turnbuckle as Bo starts to turn around and springing out of the ring, snaring his head as he flies by and driving him face-first into the arena floor with a devastating Tornado DDT!

“What an AMAZING Tornado DDT by the Wildchild,” cries Stevens. “Bo is out of this match!”

As Wildchild gets back to his feet, Jay Dawg reaches outside the ring and pulls him up by the hair. He cinches in a front facelock and prepares to suplex him into the ring, but Johnny Dangerous sneaks up from behind and crouches underneath him, lifting Jay Dawg onto his shoulders as he stands up. “Where did Johnny find the strength to do that,” asks Riley in confusion.

“Well Johnny is the stronger member of this team,” replies Stevens. “Like I said before, it’s not like these guys are without power altogether, it’s just that they couldn’t match strength with Bo and Jay Dawg. But right now, Johnny’s got Jay Dawg perched on his shoulders… AND WILDCHILD’S GOING TO THE TOP~! There’s no telling what they’ve got planned coming up here!

CRASH!

What they have planned turns out to be a scintillating double team maneuver, as Wildchild leaps from the top turnbuckle, snaring Jay Dawg’s head as he comes down to deliver a bulldog, just as Johnny falls forward into an Electric Chair Drop! The crowd goes apeshit as Wild and Dangerous smash Jay Dawg’s face into the mat! Johnny then rolls Drazon onto his back and grabs his legs as he stands up, locking them in a slingshot position as he yells to his partner, “let’s do this!” Wildchild races to the far ropes and back again as Johnny arches back to start the slingshot. As Jay Dawg reaches the apex of his ascent, Wildchild leaps onto the top rope and curls himself into a ball as he springs off, hurtling towards Jay Dawg, who his hurtling towards him, and blasting him with his patented Pinball attack!

“Slingshot into a Pinball” cries Stevens as Wildchild rolls onto the fallen Drazon. “This could do it!”

ONE!

TWO!

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

The crowd erupts in cheers and referee Sexton Hardcastle motions for the timekeeper to ring the bell, signifying the end of the match. Funyon rises from his seat at ringside and raises the microphone to his lips as “In Da Club” begins to play. “Here are your winners, Wild and Dangerous!” Wildchild and Johnny pose triumphantly inside the ring as Drazon rolls slowly out of the ring.

“What a huge victory for this exciting rookie team,” shouts Stevens. “They’ve shown here tonight that they’ve got what it takes to become a success in the SWF!”

“Well, I’ll say this for them,” adds Bobby Riley, “They did what they had to do to win this match. They made use of a lot of double teams, and took advantage of a piss poor refereeing job by Hardcastle, but I’ll tip my hat to them for a big win here to kick off Smarkdown. They impressed me, and you know I don’t impress easily!”

“Well, we’ve still got a lot of action yet to come, ladies and gentlemen,” says Stevens. “And coming up next, Stryke will try to force himself into the title picture by taking on the number one contender, TNT. Folks, don’t you dare go ‘way!”

As we:

FADE OUT

February 13, 2003

The camera fades in and we see the #1 SWF Interviewer, Ben Hardy standing next to the infamous Judge Mental, who is stretching out in preparation for his match with Annie Eclectic coming up within the hour. Hardy puts his mic up into the face of Mental and asks him a question.

“Well, you called us down here to say a few things in response to much of the ire you’ve been getting to the fans. What did you want to say?”

“Yes…” He says stretching his neck out, and continues on like a professor beginning a lecture. “I noticed that many of you people don’t appreciate my views on the ‘Hardcore’ form of wrestling and some people have told me that I was wrong saying that only Garbage wrestlers, citing the retired Mick Foley as a fantastic wrestler for most of his career.” The Judge stops stretching his neck and pulls his arm across his chest.

“Mick Foley isn’t a great wrestler. Could he speak? Yes, he was quite a good speaker, but he had nothing to offer in the ring. He was slow, out of shape, and lacked a proper grasp of ring psychology (the name for technical expertise you see out of all the Magnificent 7 members). Not only that, but it was because of his efforts that ‘Hardcore’ wrestling really came into the mainstream.”

“His insane stunts have only furthered the outcry for ‘Hardcore’ Wrestling. And where did it get him? He’s a cripple. He can’t even bend down to play with his children anymore due to his injuries. It’s pathetic, but that’s what you get when you wrestle like that. You end up in a wheelchair wondering what would have happened had your spine not been injured while going through a table or something else just as dumb. Furthermore-”

“How bout you just shut up?” Hardy, Judge Mental, and Gus turn over towards the door and lo and behold it’s Annie Eclectic! She swings her Kendo stick at her side as

“How dare you talk about Mick Foley like that. If it wasn’t for his fantastic work and inspiration, I’m sure that many of us-”

“Oh, please. The man is only famous for throwing himself off the top of cages and such. If it weren’t for his insanity, wrestling would still be a mainstream pastime. I’m just glad that he’s been thrown to the trash heap like all the other garbage wrestlers-”

With that remark, Annie knees the Judge right in the gut. The Judge doubles over reflexively, and she quickly hooks a double underhook for a Double Arm DDT! The Foley tribute, however, doesn’t work, as the Judge tears his arms out of the underhook and he trips Annie’s feet right out from under her. He grabs her legs and immediately puts her in a Liontamer, and soon the refs are breaking it up as we fade back to commercial.

February 13, 2003

Stevens: We regret to inform you that the scheduled TNT/Strke match has been cancelled due to a family emergency on TNT's part. Our thoughts and prayers are with him.

Riley: Slackers.

February 13, 2003

“And we are back just in time for another match that is sure to raise your hackles and other assorted nonsense in that vein,” calls out “Grand Slam” as we return from another commercial break. “This upcoming match is going to be a great contrast in styles between Longdogger Pete and The Magnificent Seven’s own Ejiro Fasaki.”

Riley briefly fills us in on the history between the two; “In only a small amount of time, these two have already had quite the history between them as Ejiro Fasaki blames Longdogger Pete for the loss of his precious SJL World Title. And although I’m not sure any of us could care less about that, Ejiro sure does. And he’s done the whole swearing of vengeance thing on The Miami Menace. While at the same time, Longdogger Pete is focused entirely on climbing back up the ranks of this league. As he plans to go all the way back up to the top of the ladder. And if he has to go through Ejiro to do it, he will. But he won’t. Ejiro is not the type of guy to allow that to happen.”

“Well we’ll find out about that soon enough, but first, it’s to the ring we go for the ring announcements from the man, the myth, and the legend.... Funyon.”

“This next match is scheduled for one fall with a thirty minute time limit.... Introducing first, hailing from Sarasota, Florida and weighing in tonight at 189 pounds. Representing the Magnificent Seven, this is EEEEEEEEEEJIROOOOOOOOOO FASAKIIIIIIIIII!”

Stepping out from the entranceway with his long leather coat buttoned high to the neck comes the former SJL World Champion to a smattering of jeers from the crowd who have yet to see him actually accomplish anything in SWF action as of yet. Pulling off his coat and tossing it aside, Fasaki climbs up to the middle rope and raises his arm high into the air before stepping off the ropes and landing in the center of the ring. And although he has yet to taste victory, he continues to exude the same confidence that made him feared throughout all of the SJL rankings.

“And his opponent...”

You will get yours...

YOU WILL GET YOURS!

An explosion of white fireworks blasts into the air as through the smoke the One Man Wrecking Crew known as Longdogger Pete comes out to greet his fans. The crowd greets the founder of X Force Nine with a thunderous ovation as he raises his arms high into the air and the rest of “Cold Contagious” continues to play.

“You have no right to calm me down

You were never that around

And I have missed

Cold Contagious

All the mighty, mighty men

What you save is what you lose out in the end

Cold Contagious

Cold Contagious!”

Finally stepping up the apron as the song ends its final verse, LDP looks out to the crowd once more before stepping through the ropes as Ejiro Fasaki immediately walks across the ring towards his opponent. Getting right up in the face of the 6’6” Miami Menace, Ejiro pushes his finger into Pete’s chest, as the Longdogger looks down... almost bemused by this whole situation. But that bemusement does not last long before Ejiro brings the hand back and slaps Longdogger Pete right across the chops!

“What a display of courage and guts by this man Fasaki, standing up against the towering monster like he is. It is not the size of the man in the fight, but the size of the fight in the man! It is David and Goliath in there!” Riley smirks as he hits as many of the small man versus big man cliches as he can in the least amount of time.

“Well ... it looks like David forgot his slingshot, cause Goliath just punched him in the freaking mouth!”

Indeed Goliath has wrecked a terrible vengeance as he immediately slams into Fasaki with a huge overhand right across the face that sends Ejiro slamming right down to the canvas! Scrambling back up, Fasaki struggles to find his bearings but Pete does not allow that to happen as he once again sends Ejiro to the mat with a trademark right hand. Pushing the rising Fasaki into the ropes, Longdogger Pete tosses the member of the Magnificent Seven into the ropes and catches him on the rebound with yet another pinpoint blow to the face.

“Well Riley,” remarks Stevens, “it looks to me as though Longdogger Pete is going to be a touch man to stop this early in the contest. Ejiro Fasaki is going to have to do something to stem this tide in a real hurry if he wants to stay in this match.”

“That’s what you think. I’ve spent some actual time going back and looking at some tape of Fasaki, and let me tell you, he will wait in the weeds like a snake and once he gets his moment... he’ll take it and take control over LDP... sooner or later.”

But if Fasaki is waiting for Longdogger Pete to make a mistake, he might have a while to delay as LDP continues to keep things simple and work his low risk – high impact offense. This is clearly evident as The Miami Menace takes Ejiro by the wrist and turns it over to force Fasaki’s head down and leave himself wide open for an assault to the chest from Longdogger Pete’s large heavy legs. Punting Fasaki into the air with a flurry of kicks, LDP enjoys his advantage over the smaller foe by tossing him across the ring and into the turnbuckles with as much force as he can muster. Charging forward, LDP cracks into Fasaki with a running clothesline that sends the smaller wrestler’s legs flying into the air before he falls to a seated position on the canvas. Stamping out of the corner, Longdogger looks down at Fasaki with what might be considered pity... it’s not pity... but it kind of looks like that. Anyway, Pete rushes ahead once more and crushes Ejiro’s head against the middle turnbuckle with a hard knee to the side of the head! Stepping away once more Pete watches on as Fasaki slumps in the corner and a trickle of blood starts to roll down the side of his face from the corner of his eye.

“Oh damn, looks like that knee made some serious contact there with the face of Ejiro Fasaki. He’s rapidly turning into a rather bloody mess,” calls out “Grand Slam” as though no one else could make that conclusion on their own.

“Well no kidding genius, I think everyone could have made that conclusion on their own without you having to tell them.”

See?

Regardless, Longdogger Pete is not sensitive enough to Fasaki’s needs at this point and takes the foul-mouthed rookie off the mat and casually tosses him into the ropes once more. Catching Fasaki on the rebound, LDP elevates Ejiro into the air and allows him to land right on his face from high in the air with frightening ease. Smashing into the mat with his face, Ejiro lays there for a moment as a small pool of blood amasses below him. But we really do not have time to discuss the artistic merits of the blood splatter before LDP drops down across Ejiro’s back with a heavy elbowdrop to the back. Arching up in a uncontrollable spasm of pain, Ejiro exposed his bloody face more than long enough for The One Man Wrecking Crew to reach around his neck and crank back with a powerful crossface submission hold!

Stevens pops up, “What a move! Almost a version of Ejiro’s own cobra crossface, Longdogger Pete is going to try and make Ejiro tap out his own rendition of the move!”

“Oh come off it Stevens,” counters Riley, “That crossface isn’t half as good as Ejiro’s. First off Longdogger Pete has allowed Ejiro to keep his hands free, and secondly Pete isn’t nearly as powerful as Ejiro... you know pound-for-pound and all that.”

“Pound-for-pound? Pound-for-pound doesn’t mean a thing Riley! The fact of the matter is LDP has a whole lot of size and weight and is about twice as strong as Ejiro could ever hope to be!”

But Riley does indeed have a minor point in that Longdogger Pete has indeed allowed Ejiro two open limbs that he can use to dig and scrape his way across the ring as LDP continues to crank away on the crossface. Screaming out in pain, Ejiro nonetheless manages to inch ever closer to the ropes before finally touching the bottom rope with his hands before the referee forces The Miami Menace to break the hold under the threat of the five count. Stepping back away from Fasaki as the member of The Magnificent Seven scrapes himself off the canvas, LDP formulates his next plan of attack. Going back to the brawling game, Longdogger scores once more with a heavy right hand to the side of Ejiro’s bloody face that leaves a red trace on the taped mitt of the Miami Menace. Tossing Ejiro into the ropes once more, LDP tosses a clothesline out at the head of Ejiro Fasaki, but the smaller man quickly ducks underneath and takes a hold on Pete’s arm before swinging around with his legs in an attempt to take LDP down with a crucifix. But the 272 pound man is not about to go over against his will and he easily manages to pull Ejiro off his back and onto his shoulders with almost frightening ease before falling backward and crushing Fasaki with a standing Samoan drop! Reaching back and hooking a leg LDP holds on tight as the referee counts...

ONE!

TWO!

THRENNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOO!

Ejiro quickly grabs LDP around the arms and legs suddenly and pulls him over into the crucifix he first tried to use a few moments ago!

ONE!

TWO!

NO!

Longdogger Pete easily rolls of his shoulder and onto his stomach but the tenacious upstart is not about to release his hold on Pete’s arms and immediately starts to crank back with the Rings of Saturn. Shouting out in unexpected pain, Longdogger Pete still manages to keep from submitting as the bloody Fasaki continues to rear back with the double armbar. Ripping and tearing at the shoulders, Ejiro attempts with all his might to separate them as LDP struggles to lose himself from the predicament that he finds himself in at the moment. But instead of going to the ropes the way Ejiro had done a few moments ago, Pete decides to rather counter the move in a more conventional way. Pulling his arms together against the will of Fasaki, LDP moves up onto his toes as Ejiro’s center of gravity starts to move over the head of his opponent. Finally pressing against the mat with as much force as he can, Pete manages to counter the hold by rolling right on top Ejiro and hold him down as Eddy Long counts...

ONE!

TWO!

NOOOOO!

Rather than continuing to keep the hold locked on, Fasaki instead deigns to release it and stave off being pinned. Longdogger Pete is also unwilling to continue this battle on the mat where Ejiro holds the advantage and both men head up to their vertical bases before going back on the attack. Flexing his shoulders once in order to get the kinks loose from the Rings of Saturn, Longdogger Pete is nonetheless the first wrestler to make a move as he charges at Fasaki with reckless abandon. But the Magnificent Seven don’t pick members based on their looks (well except for Judge Mental ... meow) as the wily Ejiro ducks low as Longdogger Pete goes sailing overhead and over the top rope to the hard arena floor.

“There!” remarks Riley in his most sarcastic voice, “I told you that Pete was going to make some error and Ejiro was going to take advantage.”

“Oh yeah, you’re Miss Cleo all right. When am I going to find true love again?”

Sliding out to the floor as Longdogger Pete holds his shoulder in pain; Ejiro Fasaki immediately goes on the assault. Taking the larger man in a hammerlock, Fasaki sends him on a little run before tossing him right into the ringside steps with an earth shattering impact that sends the Miami Menace clattering to one side as Fasaki continues to get back his wind and prepare for his next assault. Plucking LDP off the concrete floor once more, Ejiro takes Pete’s injured arm and slams it hard down across the steel guardrail as the referee’s count towards the count out continues to climb.

FIVE!

SIX!

SEVEN!

Not through with his attack on the floor, Ejiro is still smart enough to duck underneath the bottom rope long enough for the referee to stop his count and have to restart back at one. Grabbing a hold of The One Man Wrecking Crew once again, Ejiro wraps the arm of his opponent around the guardrail once again and starts to swing his elbow across it with as much anger and vengeance that he can muster. Finally satisfied with his progress, Fasaki sends LDP back inside the ring before quickly following after in order to press his mounting advantage. Taking another hammerlock, Ejiro presses the arm up and into the shoulder as LDP shouts out from the pain of the relatively simple maneuver. Putting his foot into the calf of his opponent, Fasaki manages to push LDP all the way down to the canvas and press ever forward with the hammerlock as the referee checks in with LDP. Of course, as we all know if the referee is checking in on a face during a submission, it is the constitutional right of the heel to use the ropes to his advantage. I wonder why not everyone shares that worldview?

“Oh come on referee!” declares Stevens, “How can he not know that Ejiro is going to use the ropes in that situation?”

“It’s like asking the square root of a million... no one will ever know,” answers Riley as I steal a joke directly from The Simpsons without expressed written consent.

And of course, nothing would make this moment more complete than having Ejiro take his feet off the ropes moments before Eddy Long checks to see if he’s doing it. How do wrestlers know when that is coming? Regardless, as soon as Eddy goes back on checking on Pete, Ejiro once again places his feet on the middle ropes in order to gain an advantageous leverage position as Pete struggles against his wounded shoulder. But he does not have long to wait as Ejiro forgoes the pleasure of the hammerlock to simply begin driving a series of short knees into the shoulder of his foe before straddling Pete and putting on move #647 of Chris Jericho’s one thousand and one moves (Armbar!). Wrenching away while pressing against the shoulder at the opposite direction, Fasaki tries to put Pete away with a continual attack on the injured part of his body. But that sure isn’t going to be enough to keep the big man down. So as quickly as he can, the veteran scoots out from underneath Ejiro’s legs and places his free hand up and into the bloody side of Ejiro’s face. Pressing up and into the bloody injury, LDP forces his way back up to a vertical base as Fasaki struggles to hold onto his grasp on Pete’s arm. But he is not ready when the well-schooled Miami Menace falls back to the canvas and tosses Ejiro off with a classic arm drag takeover.

“As you can see Riley,” notes Stevens, “Ejiro just cannot match up against The Longdogger when the big man gets back to his feet.”

Clutching his shoulder, LDP is still easily able to rise up to his feet before Ejiro can return to the assault. Rushing forward though, Fasaki tries to get a hold right back on Pete’s injured shoulder but the One Man Wrecking Crew is too quick to allow that to happen as he quickly turns and meets the charging Fasaki with an elbow from his healthy side. Stunned but still standing, Fasaki stands still as LDP grabs Ejiro around the waist with his good arm and jerks the member of the Magnificent Seven into the air before crushing him with a reverse atomic drop. Hopping up on his toes, Ejiro still refuses to go down until Pete finally sends him down with a stunning boot to the mush. Finally getting some momentum back behind him after the attack on his shoulder, Pete raises an arm into the air to the cheer of the assorted fans in the arena.

“LDP! LDP! LDP!” roars the fans as the route for Pete to put Fasaki away as quickly as possible (evidently the nachos aren’t agreeing with anyone).

Pulling Ejiro off the mat once more, LDP looks out to the people once more before hooking Ejiro up and into position for the Longdogger Clogger double arm DDT! But not for long before Ejiro manages to pull his arms free!

“Ha!” laughs Riley, “Look at that, Stevens! Fasaki has injured LDP’s shoulder enough that the Miami Mommy can’t hold onto the Clogger! I always knew that boy was smart!”

Unable to hold onto Fasaki with both arms, Pete nonetheless hooks Ejiro with the one good arm before falling back to the canvas. Or at least trying to fall back to the canvas as Ejiro has used his free arm to grab a tight grip on the top rope to keep from getting spiked. Quickly taking advantage of LDP’s awkward position, Fasaki sneaks a leg back behind LDP and trips the larger man right to the canvas with the STO legsweep! Floating around, Fasaki makes a cover while slinging his legs over the middle rope for that extra little bit of leverage.

ONE!

You’d think the referee would at least check to make sure that Ejiro wasn’t cheating.

TWO!

But you get what you pay for and these poor referees don’t even get a good dental plan.

THREEENNNNNAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!

“Pete still kicked out!” screams Stevens, “Even with Ejiro using the ropes to his advantage, he still could not keep Longdogger Pete down for three. Let that be a lesson to everyone at home that cheating doesn’t always equate with success. Sometimes you have to actually work hard to win in any endeavor.”

“Gee thanks, Superman, do you have any other special messages to share with the rest of the Super Friends?”

“Actually I do. Remember folks kill the monkey. Kill the kid that turns into water. But always leave the chick... cause baby got back.”

“... I always liked Robin.”

“... I think we all knew that on some level.”

Turning Pete over onto his stomach, Ejiro goes back on the attack on the shoulder by driving the knee into the shoulder joint and pulling back on the wrist. Pete shouts out in pain for a moment before gritting his teeth and deciding to gut out this newest attack on his weakened limb. Gripping the arm tightly, Ejiro demands that referee Eddy Long check with Pete to see if he wants to quit. The answer comes back with an angry no before Pete decides that it is a good time to start screaming after all. Because as the referee is checking in with Pete, Ejiro has taken it upon himself to add an extra bit of nefarious pain as he starts to illegally pull back on LDP’s fingers while holding the big man down with his knee.

“He’s trying to break Pete’s fingers!” calls out an indignant Stevens, “Not only is that illegal but its one of the nastiest things you can do to a wrestler. Because if you can’t interlock your hands, it becomes increasingly harder to use any sort of throws.”

“You bet,” chuckles Riley in agreement, “That Ejiro is really being a nasty bastard in that ring tonight and I could not be any happier about this! The only dirty trick he hasn’t used yet is tying Pete’s shoelaces together.”

Well, maybe later Riley. But right now, Longdogger Pete is reaching out for the ropes to break this hold before Ejiro manages to break his fingers. And thankfully, Pete does not have that far to go before he touches the ropes and Fasaki is forced to release the armbar. But he is not quite done on his assault on Pete’s hand as he pushes it down against the mat and stomps down on it as hard as he can! Screaming in pain, Pete withdraws the hand into his chest and begins to shake it wildly in order to relieve the pain. Pulling his 6’6’’ foe off the canvas, Ejiro knuckles up and lifts Pete into the air for just a moment before sending him crashing to the mat with a body slam. Grabbing his back for a moment, Ejiro curses himself for such an odd choice in tactics before pulling Pete’s arm away from his body and stepping out to the apron.

‘Grand Slam’ says, “Fasaki is going all the way up to the top rope! What’s with all this departure in strategy? First a power body slam and now Ejiro is going to fly... I don’t think those are going to prove to be good choices in the long run.”

“Oh please,” remarks Riley in reply, “People like you are always saying that Ejiro is too boring to be a major player...”

“I’ve never said that...”

Bobby just verbally rolls right over Stevens, “... and as soon as he makes a change, you say he’s going away from the one that brought him! Stop telling him what to do all the time already!”

Steadying himself on the top rope, Ejiro looks down at LDP with a razor sharp edge before flying off with a knee drop from ten feet in the air! But Pete moves his arm at the last moment as Fasaki destroys his own knee against the hard canvas and goes scrambling!

“I knew Ejiro shouldn’t have gone to the top!” says Riley, “Why did you say that was a good idea?”

“...”

Riley hangs his head in shame, “I know...”

Getting up to his feet with ease as Ejiro slowly pulls himself up with one leg, LDP gets a running start before kicking to the back his foe’s calf and sending the member of The Magnificent Seven heels over head to the mat once more. Grabbing the leg and looking out to the crowd as they let loose a loud cheer, Pete turns over a step over toehold before cinching in the figure four leglock!

“WHOOO!” shout the fans in unison as LDP locks on the favorite move of some guy or another that no one here is familiar with.

Wrenching away at the hold, Longdogger Pete demands that Ejiro Fasaki gives up but the smaller man is not about to give it up that easily. But still, getting stuck in the figure four is no way to spend your summer vacation and Ejiro starts to lose any semblance of concentration on what he is doing. Slowly slumping back against the mat, Ejiro allows his shoulder to fall to the mat as Eddy Long drops to his knees and starts to count...

ONE!

TWO!

NOOOO!

Arisen by the sound of Long pounding on the canvas, Ejiro brings his shoulders off the mat and rises to a seated position. But not for long as Pete cracks him across the face with a hard right hand to the bloody pulp that used to be the left side of Fasaki’s kisser. Once again, Fasaki goes flopping back against the canvas, but this time, he makes sure to keep his shoulders off the canvas as he reaches for the ropes. But its never easy dragging someone that weighs almost 100 pounds more than you do across the ring.

“Ejiro is in it deep now,” says Mark, “Pete has him stuck in the center of the ring with that figure four and he’s showing no signs of letting Ejiro go anytime soon.”

Indeed Stevens, but when you there is an obstacle you can’t climb, there is only one thing to do. And that’s cheat like the dickens. So as Eddy Long checks in with Ejiro again to see if he wants to submit, the member of the Magnificent Seven grabs the referee by the belt and tosses him right on top of prone Longdogger! Stunned by the weight of Long falling right on top of him, Pete’s grip on the figure four loosens enough for Ejiro to break free and scramble away from his adversary.

Stevens quickly says, “What a big chance Ejiro took right there. Not only was that gambit unsure of actually working, but it could have gotten him disqualified at the same time.”

“A risk indeed! But a risk that paid immediate dividends. Long is not calling for the bell either, so it’s all good.”

“Of course Long hasn’t called for the bell you maniac,” replies Stevens, “He’s still stunned from that collision with Pete!”

But Long is obviously the only one that got stunned in the process as Ejiro stumbles towards a rising LDP, the veteran sweeps out his injured leg once again and sends Fasaki right back to the mat. Quickly turning around the leg once more with the spinning toehold, Pete looks to slap on the figure four once more. But this time, Fasaki is ready with a counter as he places a boot against the seat of his foe and pushes him forward... and right into the referee! Colliding with the official, The One Man Wrecking Crew propels the official through the ropes and all the way out to the arena floor.

“Referee is out of this one!”

“You know what that means! Time for some serious nefarious activities from my man, Ejiro!”

Well, he sure is going to make the attempt anyway. As Pete is suffering the ill effects of that head to head collision with Long, Ejiro Fasaki makes his move. Limping forward on his good leg, Ejiro pounds Pete from behind with a heavy forearm to the back that temporarily stuns the big man long enough for Fasaki to send him into the ropes. Leaping up into the air for a spinning heel kick, Ejiro attempts to take Pete down again. But the well traveled Longdogger catches Fasaki right in midair before sending him flying back to the mat with the Longdogger Denial! Aware that the Longdogger Clogger and the Musclehead Slam are most likely going to be ineffective due to his injured shoulder, LDP takes on another strategy. Taking Ejiro with one arm, Pete sends Fasaki into the ropes and catches him on the rebound with yet another staggering boot to the chops that sends the bleeding Ejiro all the way to the canvas. Raising his arm to the sky once more, LDP makes an ‘L’ with his fingers to the cheers of the assembled people in the arena.

“Look Stevens,” Riley explains, “Pete is showing the crowd that he thinks they are all a bunch of losers! Oh what a said state of affairs.”

“Damn it, Riley, you know as well as I do that sign means he’s going for the Longdogger Legdrop!”

“I know NUTTING!”

“HOOOOOOGAN!”

But all of that aside, Pete is indeed making his way up to the top rope. Steadying his 270 plus pounds on the top rope with his one good arm, The Longdogger stands tall just as Ejiro had done a moment before. But this time the risk pays off huge as Pete comes crashing down across Ejiro’s chest with one big legdrop! Momentarily stunned from his own impact, Pete still manages to roll across Ejiro.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

“Why are you counting Stevens?” asks Riley, “You know it only counts if Long does that and he’s still knocked silly on the floor in front of us.”

“I just want the world to know that Pete had this match won and that only a lack of the referee’s presence is keeping this match going!”

Mad as hell, and not about to take it anymore, Pete leaves an unmoving Fasaki laying in the center of the ring as he goes to the outside to check on the official. But what Pete does not see is Ejiro curling into a little ball and reaching deep into his tights.

“OH DADDY!” screeches Riley, “I think this match got a whole lot better! Ejiro has gone to his special place for something long and hard!”

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

“What? He pulled out a chain... that’s long and hard. What did you think I meant?”

Pushing Long back into the ring after getting him roused to a semi-conscious state, Pete has no idea what awaits him as he goes back to work on his opponent. Pulling Ejiro up to his knees, Pete looks to lay in some more punishment to Ejiro’s battered face. But before he can even do that, Ejiro’s chained fist meets his chin with a snapping uppercut that sends Pete falling backward in a haze to the ropes. Standing tall, Ejiro rushes forth once more and crashes right into Pete with another chain assisted blow to the head that sends Pete crumpling to the mat in an unmoving heap of humanity. Still not satisfied, Ejiro lowers the boom once more with a Million Dollar Man style fist drop to the head! Tossing the chain away, Ejiro hooks a leg as the semiconscious Long finally gets his wits about him enough to turn back to the action.

ONE!

“Oh you have to be kidding me!”

TWO!

“What a sham! What a miscarriage of justice!”

NOOOOOOOO!

“What in the name of Marco Polo!? EJIRO PICKED HIM UP AT TWO!”

“I don’t know what to say,” follows Riley, “He... he had Pete dead to rights and he’s still not satisfied?”

Angered beyond all reason, Ejiro yells at the seemingly unconscious form of Longdogger Pete, “You think you’re better than me! You think you can wreck my life? You think you can beat me? You bitch! You fucking bitch! I’m going to kill you, you understand me? I’m going to KILL YOU!”

Immediately turning LDP over onto his chest and immediately tears into Pete’s injured shoulder with the cobra crossface! Yet Pete still shows no outward signs of life as his unconscious body is beyond feeling any sort of pain at this point in time. But Ejiro still revels in his glory as he cranks back on the hold as Referee Eddy Long rolls in close to check on Pete’s eyes. Seeing no signs of life, Long immediately signals for the bell as the bloody Ejiro continues to pull up on Pete’s head and shoulder with all he’s got. Getting to his feet, the referee finally makes a move to get Ejiro to release the hold. Finally, the bloody Fasaki release Pete and rolls to one side as the voice of Funyon calls out.

“Ladies and gentlemen, referee Eddy Long has stopped the match... The winner of this contest... EJIROOOOO FASAKIIIII!”

Rising up to the middle rope, Fasaki looks out to the crowd with his typical disdain as a small fleet of medical personnel comes rushing down the aisle way to tend to the out like a light Longdogger Pete.

“I don’t believe this Riley. I have never seen Ejiro so viscous... so angry... and why? What did Longdogger Pete ever do to him?”

“He stood in The Magnificent Seven’s way! And now he’s paid the price.”

“Somehow I think there is more to this ... this barbaric attack than just the normal animosity of wrestling. But... that’s got to wait for now... so as Pete receives some medical attention... let’s go to commercial.”

February 13, 2003

As we return to MSG, Smarkdown in full force, we come back to Ben Hardy, backstage with a microphone in hand, as is the norm around here. The crowd pops as he begins to speak:

“Ben Hardy here, getting the thoughts of Michael Craven on the 2003 Clusterfuck-”

Cout out to reveal a bigger, more musuclar looking Michael Craven. Looks like he’s been working out... and hiding his true size. He looks a bit irate as he screams into the microphone:

“...Clusterfuck? CLUSTERFUCK?!?!” Craven does not seem very happy as Hardy cowers back in some fear. “I DON'T WANT TO THINK ABOUT THE CLUSTERFUCK!! For starters, I can’t believe that asshole TNT won the damn thing! I got screwed out of the win, and the title shot against ELM!!! I should be fighting him!!! I deserve it!”

“What do you mean?” Hardy inquires.

“ELM is nothing in today’s world. El Luchador Magnifico’s year was 2002. But this isn’t 2002, no. This is 2003... the Year of Michael Craven!” The crowd loudly boos at the egotistical, somewhat crazed Craven’s comment. “I should be the world champion, not him! The little spotmonkey doesn’t deserve to be a champion! He deserves to be jobbing himself out to Cutthroat and Xero for a whole damn eternity!!!”

“That could be a matter opinion-” Hardy starts, but a ranting Craven interjects.

“But look at the card, Hardy: Fugue gets to fight him!!! Am I even on it? Noooooooooooo!!!! Whatever happened to respect for the elders? Whatever happened to having to work to the top? Whatever happened to recongizing nearly three years of hard work? What about me? What about Craven?!?!?!”

The crowd boos loudly at this comment and starts a “RAVEN KNOCK-OFF!!!” chant just to piss Mike off. Hardy clears his throat and prepares the next question:

“Why do you deserve a title shot anyways, Michael-”

Craven cuts him off, clutching him around the throat with one hand. He suddenly lifts him into the air, Hardy wriggiling and choking as Craven standws there, effortlessly holding the SWF’s #1 Announcer in the air with a look of disatisfication across his face.

“That’s Mr. Craven to you, you dumbfuck.”

Hardy is let back to the ground, grabbing his throat as he coughs, gasping for air for a few seconds while the crowd boos Michael Craven.

“*cough*...Yes, Mr. Craven. But..*cough*...why do you deserve a title shot?”

Craven begins. “Because, I’ve been here long enough to get one. I’ve worked hard for the past three years in this fed, won 2 JL World Titles, 2 JL Tag/Stables Titles, been an undefeated ML TV Title Champion, and become THE GREATEST HARDCORE CHAMPION OF ALL TIME!!! To quote on of the greatest bands of all time, Queen, and answer your damn question: “I’ve paid my dues, time after time, I’ve served my sentence, but commited no crime”. It’s as simple as that. Now hurry up, Ben... your depriving a village its idiot! ”

“Say what?” A confused Hardy answers back.

“I deserve a title shot, you nimrod.”

Craven’s voice snaps at Hardy, who backs off a bit to regain his composure. He clears his throat, but before he can, the crowd jumps on Mike with a “CRAVEN SUCKS!” chant. Craven’s head whips around, with a scowl on his lips, and abruptly, he rips the mic from Hardy’s hands.

“Don’t temp me, you little New York assholes.” He reaches into his pocket and quickly pulls out a brand-new Motorola. “I have Titan Towers AND the Jarretts on speed dial. I could be just as easily making more money and getting more exposure than in this tiny-ass fed.”

The crowd boos again as Craven smiles happily, unfolding the cell phoen and pretending to use it to taunt the fans. Hardy interrupts play time with one last question.

“And finally, do you find it surprising that your former tag team partner and ally, Longdogger Pete, has returned to the SWF as of late?”

Hardy nervously backs off as Craven leans forward into his face, still looking irritated.

“You call that a surprise? Some washed-up no-name has-been returning? I don’t. Pete was nothing without me. I won him both his damn Tag/Stables titles in the JL, and if it hadn’t been for me, we wouldn’t have had them for as long as we did. But that a surprise? No... I think not. With that ego-maniac Tod deKindes running around slaughtering the XF9 name, I can see why Pete would be back. But you wait and see, Ben Hardy, because if you want a surprise... you’ll get one... I’ll show this whole damn fed what a surprise is!”

And with that, Craven abruptly exits off camera, leaving the crowd booing and Ben Hardy wondering:

“Damn, what’s his problem?”

February 13, 2003

“Well, it looks like we are just about up to the Hardcore Gamer’s Title Match between Judge Mental and Annie Eclectic.” Notes Grand Slam as he shuffles through his notes. “The rivalry between these two is getting even more heated Annie’s incredible run at Clusterfuck and that latest attack, and their ideological fight between Hardcore and Pure wrestling is sure to take center stage.”

“Mark, Annie should have been the first one thrown out in that thing. If she hadn’t had that stupid Kendo stick, she’d been gone long before the final three.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter much. She still threw out the Judge-”

“-After how many Bokken shots?”

“It’s a no-DQ match, Bobbie; Anything goes and everyone knew that. Just because the Judge didn’t take advantage of it is no reason to whine about it.”

In the ring, the always well-dressed Funyon clears his throat and begins his opening lines. “The following is a hardcore match for the Hardcore Gamer’s Title! There are no Disqualifications or Countouts in effect. The first person to score a pin or a submission will be declared the winner. The Challenger…”

The synthesized trumpet fanfare of “I Get Wet” in the now dimmed Madison Square Garden, and a red spotlight shines onto the empty stage. Suddenly, the thrashing guitars jump in and the Hardcore Queen herself comes out onto the stage, her trusty Bokken swinging by her side! With a nice sized cheer from the crowd, she walks down slapping hands with a few of the fans, and she picks out one of the signs from one of the fans and holds it up in the air:

“By Decree of the Hardcore Queen: Bra and Panties match for Judge Mental!”

The crowd gives another loud cheer for that, and some laughing can be heard as she hands the thing back and goes down to ringside.

“Weighing in at 175 pounds and hailing from Indianapolis, Indiana… she is the HARDCORE QUEEN of the SWF… ANNIE ECLECTIC!”

She walks around the ring a few times swinging her Bokken overhead before placing on the outside near the steel steps and goes into her corner.

“Annie is coming off that amazing run from 4 to the final 3 at Clusterfuck, but she took a jumping Burning Hammer from TNT. It’s been nearly 2 weeks since that brutal match, but we’ll see how much she’s recovered from it in just a few moments.

“And the Champion…”

A steady, familiar drumbeat sounds across the arena as the lights dim down and a reddish hue is cast across the arena. The drums get louder and louder until…

“NOW TESTIFY!”

Rage Against the Machine’s “Testify” blares over the PA system and three rows of red pyrotechnics go off as the Hardcore Gamer’s Champion, Judge Mental, steps out onto the ramp. He gets his normal amount of boos, but a few people have to chuckle at the man who will have his punishment told to him after the match. The kid with the sign Annie showed to the crowd makes sure to hold it in view of Mental. With a scowl he grabs the thing right out of the fan’s hands and throws it onto the metal ramp, receiving jeers from anyone within shouting distance.

“All rise for the HARDCORE GAMER’S CHAMPION…. He weighs in at 242 pounds and hails from Royal Oak, Michigan… JUDGE MENTAL!”

“You have to wonder what’s going through his mind right now, Bobbie. He’s having the biggest title defense of his reign right now, and right after the match King will be announcing the punishment match for being thrown out 3rd in the Clusterf**k.”

“Again, that was bull crap. An outstanding wrestler like him shouldn’t be punished while someone like Xero walks away free.”

“Xero fought and lost a brutal handicap against Frost and Tom Flesher-”

“-Tom Flesher and Frost-”

“-Whatever. Anyways, he was beaten to all hell. That’s not a punishment?”

“Not when Tom Flesher and Frost are doing it. It’s an HONOR.”

Handing his gold and his robes to a ring attendant, the Judge steps right into the ring, looking over at the Hardcore Queen with an angry glare to which she returns with a playful grin. Matty Kivell looks at both of them for a moment, checking to see if they look ready, and then points at the time keeper’s table to start the match.

*Ding Ding Ding* And the match is on! Both come out towards each other, and Mental comes in first, immediately putting Annie into his own territory with a lockup. He immediately uses his strength to put Annie in a hammerlock, and torques the arm back. She gives a grunt as he gives a punch to the lower back, but she quickly takes advantage of the hardcore element by kicking backwards and nailing Mental with a low blow! The Judge goes down to his knees while Annie turns around and nails Mental in the mouth with both feet!

The Judge rolls onto his stomach clutching his rattled dental work, and Annie immediately grabs his legs and cross them into an “X” before leaping right onto the crossed knees of the Judge with a senton! Rolling off the top of him, she pulls the man up for an Irish Whip, but Mental easily uses his size to reverse the whip and sends Eclectic to the ropes instead. He goes for a hard lariat, but it’s a little off due to the groin shot and Annie is able to duck it. On return trip she leaps into the air, nearly taking the temporarily slowed Mental down with a big flying forearm!

“And after a close call at the beginning of the match, Annie is able to take control. I have to say, though, I’ve never seen that senton onto the legs from her before-”

“She can’t do that! That’s so unfair I can’t believe it! She’s never used that move in a match before, and it’s unfair to pull it out now! It wasn’t on the tapes, so how could the Judge even think about countering it?!”

“Bobbie… Calm down. It’s just a damn senton.”

Annie rolls back up to her feet and bounces off the ropes as the Judge slowly staggers back to his feet, and as he gets back up he’s nailed into the mat with another flying forearm! The crowd cheers as Annie goes over to Mental and gives a sharp stomp to his knee before pulling him by the arm and leading him over to the ropes. She goes to throw him to the outside, but he braces himself and pulls Annie back into a lockup. He gives Annie a hard knee to her always tender ribs and forces her to cringe a little... giving the Judge enough time to put her into position for a Snap Suplex! Annie is flung over the top with lightning speed and she lands right on her back, causing her to arch her back a little. The old man gets back to his feet, pulling Annie up as well. He gives her a quick Irish Whip at the ropes, and uses the momentum to plant her into the ground with a Powerslam for the pin!

ONE!

T-No! A healthy kickout by Annie, and the crowd gives a relieved sigh.

“Annie is going to really have to watch her back here. Even though she’s recovered from the Clusterfuck injuries, her lower back has been brutalized since her Best of 5 Series and just about everyone in the SWF knows it, especially Judge Mental.”

“Well, Mark, you can’t expect her to understand and counter complex technical strategies like that. Why she couldn’t tell the difference between an Inverted Figure Eight Weaverlock and a STEPOVER Figure Eight Weaverlock.” Grand Slam raises an eyebrow.

“What IS the difference between those two holds, Bobbie?”

“One’s inverted and one’s step-over, DUH. Moron…”

The Judge gets off top of Annie and pulls her up onto her feet, where he delivers a knife edged chop to her chest (WHOO!). Annie does her best at ignoring the pain and stays her ground, striking back with an open-palmed blow to the Judge’s cheek! His head moves a little, but not much more than that as he lands another chop on her chest, and tries to go to the ribs with a kick… but Annie catches it! With Mental hoping on one foot, she gives him a hard bitchslap to the face before lifting the leg up and forcing Mental to the ground. The crowd goes wild at the maneuver, but Annie doesn’t take in the cheers as she gives few stiff stomps to the knee of Judge Mental. She picks the Judge back up, locks in a front facelock, and proceeds to bring him down to the ground with a big DDT!

“A nice DDT by Annie, but oddly enough it looks like she’s splitting her efforts between the head and the legs. I’ve never seen her do that before.”

“Obviously that Burning Hammer was one head bump too many if she’s screwing up her weak attempt at ring psychology.”

The Judge holds the top of his head in pain as Eclectic comes off the ground to pick him up again. She drags him to the ropes again this time and tosses him through the middle rope, and he impacts on the mats below with a cheer from the crowd. Without delay, the Hardcore Queen quickly steps onto the apron and to the outside, and she grabs the rising Judge by the wrist to whip him at the steel steps…

… but the Judge uses his size to reverse the whip, and with a loud crash Annie impacts right on the metal steps back-first! She groans in pain as her hand immediately go to her bad back but she gets no comfort as Mental pulls her up by the wrist and right into a knee lift! An “Ooooh…” from the crowd as the Judge uses the opportunity to grab her head and puts her arm around his neck. With a mighty “OOF!” he takes her up and over the top for another Snap Suplex, but this time on the mats just outside the ring! Afterwards, he confidently rolls over and places both hands on her stomach for the cover.

ONE!

TWO!

T-No! Annie kicks out again, albeit weaker than before. The Judge frowns, but isn’t too surprised by the kickout.

“Wow! The Judge seems to be intent on destroying Annie’s back. Lucky for her that Snap Suplex on the outside was early on in the match, otherwise that could have finished her.”

With an air of disrespect, the Judge nonchalantly rolls her back into the ring and follows her under the bottom rope. He pulls her up to her feet and whips her at the ropes, and nails her right in the stomach with a dropkick on the way back! Annie falls backwards to the ground holding her ribs as the Judge confidently gets back up to his feet and goes for a cover.

ONE!

TW-And Annie gets a shoulder up, and the Judge just pulls her back to her feet for more punishment.

“Well, the Judge is trying to keep this match as unhardcore as possible, which is definitely the smartest thing for him.”

“It’s the smartest thing for all of us, Mark. Nothing good has ever come from Hardcore wrestling. Besides ultraviolence. And blood. And lots of beer. And Ash Ketchum eating a Urinal Cake.” Riley fidgets in his seat a little, trying not to think of any more things.

“After watching a summer of JD, that’s pretty hard for you to say, isn’t it?”

With Annie on her feet, the Judge takes her by the wrist and whips her at the corner, and with a hard thunk she nails the turnbuckle right in the back. She goes right down to her knees as a rush of pain floods her nerves, but Mental is relentless as he raises her back up into the corner for (WHOO!) a series (WHOO!) of knife edged (WHOO!) chops aimed at the mid section (WHOO!)! The old man starts to get confident, and he grabs Annie in a face lock and seats her on the top of the turnbuckle and goes up for a Superplex…

… but Annie fights back! As the Judge tries to lift her overhead, Annie locks in a facelock of her own and leaps off the top and towards the center of the ring! The crowd cheers as the two bodies spin around and she spikes the head of Mental right into the mat for a Tornado DDT! While the Judge is left wishing for Tylenol Annie slowly rolls to the outside. But she doesn’t let Mental stay in the ring, pulling him out to ringside by his foot.

“And Annie with the great desperation maneuver! The Judge shouldn’t have gone for a Superplex this early in the match, and he paid for it in spades!”

Out of the ring, Annie goes over to the scattered steel steps, picking up her trusty kendo stick before rummaging under the ring for another weapon… Fire Extinguisher? No, not her style… 2X4? No, too Jim Dugganish... A Chair? Well, simplicity is the way to go most times. She puts the chair just under the ropes and looks over as the Judge begins to get to his feet. Mental carefully watches as Annie approaches with the Bokken cocked back, ready to be swung, and as she begins to bring it around he preemptively ducks. Unfortunately, ducking doesn’t help much when you are swinging at the legs, and Mental cries out in pain as Annie nails him in the knee!

“What the hell? This makes no sense!” says Riley as the Hardcore Queen nails the Judge in the leg again, “She never does this sort of crap with the legs.”

“I know, Bobbie, but she’s going after it with a passion. She must have something up her sleeve.”

“-Or something missing in her brain-”

“Either way, we’ll just have to wait and see how this ends up.”

The crowd gives a great cheer as Mental holds onto his battered knee, and Annie pulls him up by his head to the barrier, where she promptly slams him face first into the thing. The Judge falls backwards, hands covering his face, but the Hardcore Queen is out for some long awaited retribution. She takes the time to slap a few hands reaching out, but her focus doesn’t deviate as she takes Mental by the wrist and swings him at the ringpost. With a CLANG, the Judge’s shoulder nails the steel post, and the stunned old man falls right to the ground holding his shoulder. With that, Annie goes down for a cover.

ONE!

TWO!

THREENO! The Judge was able to kick out, but only just.

“And now Annie is giving Judge Mental a few lessons from the School of Hard Knocks!”

“She can’t do that, she’s not a licensed teacher!”

Annie looks down at the struggling Judge and thinks for a moment before walking back over to the chair she put near the ropes. She picks it up and watches as Mental slowly crawls up to his feet, and she prepares to swing the chair around…

… but the Judge Superkicks it right back into her! She falls to the ground like a pile of bricks while Judge Mental falls onto his back holding his knee.

“The Judge superkicks the chair right into Annie, but he chose the wrong leg to do it with!”

“Make the cover, Judge, make the cover!”

But Riley’s pleading does nothing to help the Judge and his knee as he tries to get back up to his feet. He finally makes it back up, and gamely limps over to the only just recovering Annie Eclectic. Staring daggers into her, doesn’t go for the pin, but instead pulls her feet up and begins to turn her over!

“Liontamer! Liontamer!” Yells the overjoyed Bobbie Riley as Judge Mental is able to step over Annie and turn her over… but Annie twists her body as Mental steps over, and instead of her face being pushed against the ground her shoulder is. With this, she is able reach over and grab the Judge’s bad leg, forcing him to grimace in pain.

“Annie is attacking the leg even though she’s in the Liontamer, and it looks like it’s working!” Shouts Grand Slam as the Judge grits his teeth, and Annie continues to pound away at that leg with one of her arms. Finally, Mental releases the hold, dropping Annie’s legs as the crowd cheer away! Still limping, he picks Annie back up and rolls her into the ring, and he follows soon after. He jerks her up to her feet and takes Annie from behind in a waistlock, where he goes and slams her into the ground for German Suplex! But that’s not the end, though, as he is able to get back up to his feet and lifts her over the top for dual Germans! He bridges out for a pin…

ONE!

TWO!

THRNO! The Judge’s leg gives out right as the Kivell’s hand comes down, and he breaks the bridge before the 3 count! The crowd gives a massive pop as Kivell holds up two fingers, and Mental can do nothing but hold his knee as Annie slowly gets up to her feet. She reaches down and pulls the Judge’s legs across the here chest….. and pulls the bad leg into the crook of Mental’s other knee!

“I can’t believe it!” Yells Stevens as Annie begins to try and flip the Judge over, “She’s going for the Superior Stretch!”

“She can’t do that! How the hell did she learn that move?!”

“It all makes sense… the focus on the legs… And the Judge didn’t have a clue!”

The Hardcore Queen tries hard to flip the Judge over, but he spreads his arms out to block him from turning over into the actual move. She gives it another effort, and this time it looks almost as if she is going to get him over….

… But the Judge pulls her down with her legs and reaches up, grabbing Annie’s head to pull her down to the ground, pinning her down to the mat with a small package! The ref goes down and makes the count!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

*DING DING DING*

“The winner via pinfall… Judge Mental!”

The crowd goes silent as the Judge lets go of the hold and falls straight back to the mat, but Matty Kivell pulls him up and holds his arm up in victory. A cheap one, but a victory nonetheless.

“I can’t believe the Judge got her with a Small Package…”

“Well, I can! Chalk one up to technical skill and quick thinking.”

“Well, hopefully the Judge will get a nice punishment from King after that cheap win. Stay tuned as the Commish comes out and gives us Ejiro and Judge Mental’s punishment, next!”

Fade To Commercial…

February 13, 2003

As we return from commercial break, already the shilling of Riley and Stevens has begun in earnest!

.”Welcome back true believers!” Mark Stevens bellows. “Those just joining us missed one helluva match!”

Riley waves his hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, great effort, true sportsmanship, neither man has anything to be ashamed of but there could only be one winner. Did I manage to hit the gist there?”

Slightly deflated, Stevens continues on nonetheless. “Ahem. Anyway, the Commissioner has reserved this time to speak to the people at home. Those watching at home, I would recommend securing loose valuables and making sure your doors are locked, because when King decides it is ‘people time’ it is never, ever good news.”

“Be fair Stevens!” Bobby protests. “Maybe he’s just coming out here to comment on current events.”

“That could be,” Grand Slam nods thoughtfully. “I’ve always suspected King of being a terrorist.”

“Shush you.”

Luckily the bickering of these two is cut off by an all too familiar refrain-

ALL ABOARD!!!! HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ozzy Ozborne proceeds to rock MSG for about 2.4 seconds before the capacity crowd rises to its feet and boos their little hearts out! The lights dim, the SWFtron plays its little video, and the pyro goes off impressively (what is King compensating for anyway?)…

And King saunters on out with a clipboard in his hand, looking somewhat… harried?

“Cut the music!” King says he as he power walks to the ring. As the heat rains down upon him he looks up for the first time and a tired smile crosses his face. “You can cut the booing too. I don’t have time for you chuckleheads today.”

King slides into the ring as the fans renew their assault...

“What is up with King, Stevens?” Riley asks. “It’s not like him to blow an entrance, or to miss an opportunity to really stick it to the fans!”

Stevens just shrugs, shaking his head.

King picks up a microphone from a stagehand and looks about to speak… before consulting his clipboard. He looks up again, mouth open… and quickly shuffles to the fifth page, taking at least 15 seconds to read something there.

Stevens chuckles. “His lips are moving.”

The Suicide King finally looks up once more as the crowd yells for his death… shaking his head, he brings the microphone to his lips.

“Right… I’m gonna make this quick, because I don’t enjoy being out here with you felons and immigrants and having my IQ lowered by osmosis. Before Clusterfuck, I made some promises, and now is the time to see them fulfilled.”

King begins to pace the ring. “First and foremost, we’ll start with X.” The crowd immediately erupts into cheers as King looks distinctly unimpressed. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I promised whoever eliminated X from the Clusterfuck would be given the princely sum of 20 THOUSAND dollars. It’s steep, but I feel it was worth every penny, particularly seeing as how the man in question managed to eliminate X first!!!”

Boos, catcalls, and at least one “You suck!” shout out from the darkened crowd.

“Well, I’m a man of my word. Stryke, you did good at the PPV. You will notice a rather large amount added to your next paycheck, in addition to a little something extra from me. Keep up the good work. Try not to be such a jobber, eh?”

“On to bigger and better things. You may also recall that I promised punishment for the first three people eliminated from the Clusterfuck? Well, I did. And to give you a tiny little itsy bitsy taste of what that punishment is, let’s start with my least favorite person… X!!! Get your BUTT out here you Rasta reject!!!”

All eyes expectantly turn toward the ramp and the entryway atop it. The fans cheer in preparation of X’s arrival, and gleefully anticipate his righteous fury allover King’s backside!! The seconds turn into… well, more seconds. Eventually the crowd’s enthusiasm wanes to silence as King fumes impatiently inside the ring…

“It isn’t like X to refuse a challenge,” Grand Slam notes warily, clearly expecting X to drop from the sky like Batman.

“Bah!” Riley responds. “He’s probably afraid of King’s superior skills!”

“Somehow I doubt that that is it.”

The King’s face splits into a grin as he suddenly slaps his forehead. “Wait, I know why X isn’t coming out! It’s because I FIRED HIS SORRY ASS!!!!!!!!!!!”

“WHAT!?” Stevens screams out as the fans respond in kind.

“He was the first person eliminated! He was by extension the single worst wrestler in the federation! Hell, I did you guys a favor by sending his ass back to the gutter, where he belongs! So, now that you all can see that I am serious, let’s get to two people I am SERIOUSLY unhappy with… Judge, Ejiro, get out here RIGHT NOW!!!”

King begins to pace around the ring again, his displeasure clear on his face…

“Well, that was a bombshell to say the least, as King reveals that he fired the Joy of X!”

“Oh no!! What will he do to those charming Magnificent Seveners then? He doesn’t look pleased in the slightest, Stevens!”

“Well, knowing King as I do I’d say they either have nothing to worry about or had best hope that their life insurance is up to date.”

The speakers rev up with the traditional M7 entrance…

HERE WE ARE… BORN TO BE KINGS!

WE’RE THE PRINCES-

“SHUT THAT DAMNED THING OFF RIGHT GODDAMNED NOW!!!!” King screams out, visibly shaking and his face contorted with rage! The New York crowd is seemingly split down the middle, some happy King is unhappy, others waiting for the M7ers to get their comeuppance… hesitantly a face appear between the curtains.

‘That would be Ejiro, who just finished a great match against LDP!” Stevens notes.

Ejiro Fasaki steps out from behind the curtain slowly, and a rather contrite looking Judge Mental follows him. Slowly both men begin the longest walk of their lives down to the ring… Mental wipes some sweat off of his brow, still clearly winded from his match against Annie E just a few moments ago.

King glares at the pair as they slide into the ring accompanied by the disdain of the crowd…

“Look at the two of you. It makes me SICK.”

Ejiro and Mental look at each other, clearly not knowing what to expect, but already uncomfortable.

“I went to bat for each of you. I am the only reason either one of you was bumped, and you know it. And this is how you repay me? With this substandard performance? I thought the Magnificent Seven was full of ring technicians?! All I can say for the both of you is that you are damned lucky you won tonight or you might be joining X in the unemployment line!!”

Judge Mental opens his mouth to protest-

“DON’T SAY A GODDAMNED WORD.”

Mental is clearly taken aback at being spoken to like this by a man half his age, but bites his tongue.

“You too are really in for it now. I thought long and hard about what to do here… I had considered sending you both back to the Junior League for some more polishing. But I decided that that would be unfair to the fans.”

Stevens snorts out loud. “Now I know he’s full of-“

“In any event, it’s time. Gentlemen, are you ready?”

Ejiro and Judge flash stoic glances at each other as each man prepares for the worst in his own way.

“You two are going to face a team of my choosing and wrestle at next show. If you win, you’ll face the losers of tonight’s title match. If you win that, you’ll get a match for the tag team titles. Congratulations. You’re a tag team now!”

“That’s it? That’s all?” Stevens says. “Dammit, King, we’re trying to run a wrestling show here! Save your mind games for someone who give a damn!”

Ejiro and Judge break out into grins as King pats them each on the shoulder, a similar smile lighting up his face… the fans react negatively, realizing that they’ve been strung along for the King’s idea of a joke.

“Now gentlemen, let me buy you two a drink for being such good sports and helping me put one over on these arguments for premature euthanasia. Let’s blow this popsicle stand!!”

The three men slide out of the ring accompanied by the boos of every New Yorker in attendance and the grumblings of Grand Slam…

February 13, 2003

With yet another uneventful commercial break finally finished, SWF Smarkdown slowly fades back into view, beginning with a shot of the inside of the legendary Madison Square Garden, packed to the brim with cheering, overexcited New Yorkers! As Smarkdown’s repetitive and annoying theme music blasts over the arena’s speakers, the camera slowly pans over the audience, broadcasting their image to TVs all across the world. After a few seconds, the camera suddenly focuses squarely on the SWFTron, mere seconds before every light in the arena is cut out. The fans sit in the darkness, murmuring excitedly, before shifting to all out booing as Bach's "Toccata and Fugue in D Minor" hits the speakers! After the first few measures, dozens of white lights flash, interspersed with several strobe lights, as Fugue, decked out in his old-fashioned gangster hat and trenchoat, appears and slinks down the ramp, smiling at the crowd.

Funyon: The following non-title contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, weighing in at one hundred and eighty-one pounds...Fuuuuuuugue!

Seemingly ignoring the vast amount of boos directed his way, Fugue leisurely approaches the ring, the confident smile never leaving his face. Fugue slides into the ring and goes to its various sides to look at the crowds, which only angers them further.

Stevens: And welcome back to SWF Smarkdown, folks! If you’re just joining us, you can berate yourself for having missed four terrific matches, including a brutal Hardcore Title match between Annie Eclectic and Judge Mental!

Riley: And now that we’re done with the horrible garbagy stuff, we can enjoy a REAL wrestling match! Fugue, one of the SWF’s newest and brightest stars, takes on El Luchadore someone.

Stevens: That would be the World Champion, El Luchadore Magnifico, who is coming off two hot wins in a row against Tom Flesher at Clusterfuck and Perfect Bo on last week’s Storm. However, that doesn’t mean he should take this match against Fugue lightly. Although new to the SWF, Fugue has displayed remarkable skill inside a wrestling ring, both in the SJL and in the Clusterfuck.

Riley: Bah, I liked my way better.

As Fugue removes his trenchcoat and hat, "Toccata and Fugue in D Minor" slowly fades out, leaving an eerie silence with the bowels of the Garden. However, that silence is quickly broken, as a Mexican voice suddenly comes over the speakers, shouting...

UNO!

BOOM!

DOS!

BOOM!

TRES!

BOOM!

CUATRO!

...as the Mexican voice counts off, he’s joined by bursts of pyro shooting upwards from each turnbuckle, which draws a massive pop from the capacity crowd! As Bunch of Believers’ “Mission Trip to Mexico” kicks up, El Luchadore Magnifico bursts out from behind the curtain, waving his Mexican flag wildly with one hand and gripping the World Title with the other. Grinning to himself, Magnifico pauses at the top of the ramp and slowly raises his arms to a forty-five degree angle, creating a primo photo opportunity that those with the benefit of flash photography quickly take advantage of.

Funyon: And now, from Mexico City, Mexico, weighing in at one hundred and ninety-three pounds, he is the SWF World Heavyweight Champion...El Luchadooooooorre Magnificoooooo!!

Upon hearing his name, Magnifico breaks his pose and quickly heads down the ramp, slapping fans’ hands as he goes. As he gets closer to the ring, ELM breaks into a run and slides beneath the bottom rope, gliding belly-first onto the mat. Magnifico pops to his feet and shoots a quick glare at Fugue, before turning around and climbing onto the corner of the nearby second turnbuckle, where he resumes his wild flag-waving! After sucking a little more heat from the crowd, ELM hops off of the turnbuckle...only to be whacked from behind by a charging Fugue! The crowd’s reaction immediately switches to booing as Magnifico is knocked into the corner, absorbing the kicks to the back that Fugue so generously gives him as the ref hastily signals for the bell.

DING DING DING

Stevens: Well, I can already see that this match won’t be an exhibition of sportsmanship.

Riley: Why, whatever do you mean? Fugue was completely within his sportsmanlike rights to attack Magnifico just now! It’s not his fault ELM had to be a glory hog and not pay attention to his opponent!

Despite the kicking, Magnifico manages to turn around and face Fugue, which only switches Fugue’s target from the ELM’s back to his stomach. After five solid kicks to the gut, Fugue grabs ELM by the arm and whips him across the ring, sending the luchadore rushing towards the far corner. Magnifico turns around just before impact, crashing back-first into the turnbuckles as Fugue charges directly at him! But before Fugue can get to the luchadore, Magnifico throws his foot into the air, driving it directly into Fugue’s face! The fans release a small cheer as Fugue, hands on his face, turns away from the corner, giving Magnifico time to hop up onto the second turnbuckle! Fugue eventually turns back towards Magnifico, cueing the luchadore to leap off of the turnbuckle and fly towards his opponent, arms and legs extended for a Flying Cross-Body! But before Magnifico can make impact with the Cross-Body, Fugue suddenly leaps into the air and kicks his feet out, slamming them into ELM’s gut with a Standing Dropkick! The fans release a surprised OHHH! and boo as Magnifico falls to the mat, clutching his gut. Wasting no time, Fugue falls onto his knees and quickly covers the luchadore, hooking his leg as the referee slides into position and begins counting...

ONE...

TWO-No! Magnifico kicks out right after two, effectively ending the booing emanating from the crowd.

Stevens: Amazing speed and awareness shown from Fugue right off the bat, as he effortlessly counters Magnifico’s Flying Cross-Body with a Standing Dropkick to the gut!

Undaunted, Fugue rolls off of Magnifico, grabs him by the arm, and then stands up, pulling ELM to his feet with him as he stands. Fugue then attempts to whip Magnifico, only to have the luchadore reverse it and send Fugue rushing towards the far ropes. Fugue bounces off of said ropes and charges back towards Magnifico, and as he approaches, the luchadore leaps into the air and extends his legs, looking to wrap them around Fugue’s head for a Hurricanrana! However, Fugue ducks right beneath ELM and keeps on running, bouncing off of the ropes behind the luchadore just as he’s landing on his feet. Magnifico spins around to face Fugue, just in time to see Fugue dive at his feet with a Diving Roll! ELM hops above his rolling opponent, before landing on his feet and spinning around, doing so just as Fugue is popping back to his feet, facing away from the luchadore! Without a second’s hesitation, Magnifico grabs Fugue and wraps his arms around his stomach, trapping him in a Rear Waistlock! ELM immediately lifts Fugue into the air as if for a German Suplex, when Fugue suddenly bends forward and throws his feet upwards, locking them beneath Magnifico’s armpits! Fugue then grabs Magnifico’s legs and rolls forward, pulling the luchadore to the mat and pinning him with a quasi-Victory Roll! The surprised fans start to boo as the ref slides into position and begins counting...

ONE...

TWO-No! Magnifico reaches back with his legs, hooks them around Fugue’s head, and pulls forward while sitting up, dragging Fugue onto his back and executing a pin of his own! A pop rises from the stands in response to the quick reversal as the ref hastily restarts his count...

ONE...

TWO-No! Fugue suddenly and violently shifts his weight to the right, turning himself onto his legs and Magnifico onto his back in the process in yet another reversal! Fairly confused at this point, the fans remain fairly silent as the exasperated ref once again restarts the count...

ONE...

TWO-No! Magnifico simply kicks out this time and quickly pops back to his feet, while Fugue rolls away from the luchadore and does the same! As both men stand, they quickly shift into tense fighting stances, each ready for whatever the other might throw at them. The fans applaud politely and cheer a little for the short exhibition as Magnifico and Fugue slowly break their stances and begin circling each other around the ring.

Stevens: I think Magnifico’s going to find it fairly to difficult to out-maneuver Fugue, who as nearly as fast if not AS fast as the luchadore.

Riley: ELM’s not going to have to outmaneuver anything, ‘cause Fugue doesn’t work that way! Sure, he’s fast, but instead of doing all those prissy flips and bounces, Fugue just attacks head-on, nailing his opponents to the mat with deadly suplexes and submissions!

As they approach the center of the ring, Magnifico and Fugue come closer and closer to one another, until they are both within arm’s reach of each other. Suddenly, ELM lunges forward, looking to lock up with Fugue, only to receive a quick kick to the gut in return! The fans boo Fugue’s cheapness as he continues kicking away at Mag’s gut, doubling him over a little more with each blow. After landing a few solid kicks, Fugue grabs ELM by the arm and whips him across the ring, sending Magnifico rushing towards the far ropes. Magnifico bounces off of said ropes and charges back towards Fugue, and as he approaches, Fugue bends over in the center of the ring, looking to catch ELM with a Back Body Drop! However, ELM manages to stop himself right in front of Fugue, right before delivering a stiff kick to Fugue’s chin that knocks him upwards right out of his bent-over position! With Fugue dazed, Magnifico is able to grab him by the head and arm, pulling Fugue into a Suplex position! ELM stomps his feet on the mat as he lifts Fugue into the air, only to have Fugue twist out of his grasp and land on his feet directly behind the luchadore! The second he hits the mat, Fugue grabs Magnifico’s arms, bends them behind his back, and twists both arms into a Double Chickenwing!

Stevens: Look out! Fugue has Magnifico set up for an early Coda!

Riley: Bah, it’s never too early to end a Magnifico match.

The crowd begins to boo in anticipation, but quickly switches to cheering as ELM breaks his arms free, wraps his feet around Fugue’s left ankle, and falls to the mat, tripping Fugue up and causing him to fall face-first to the mat! As Fugue hits the mat, ELM unties his feet from around Fugue’s ankle, right before grabbing his leg with both arms and popping back to his feet! However, before he can do anything with it, Fugue quickly turns himself onto his stomach, plants his free foot into ELM’s gut, and pushes out with both legs, sending Magnifico stumbling backwards and into the ropes! As Fugue jumps back to his feet, ELM bounces off of the ropes and comes back towards his opponent, only to have Fugue drop to the mat and lash out with his leg, slamming it into Magnifico’s shin with a Sweeping Leg Kick! ELM falls face-first to the mat, and the very second Magnifico is on the canvas, Fugue scrambles onto his back and hooks his left arm with a Leg Scissors, beginning the set up for the Minor Chord! With ELM’s left arm safely hooked, Fugue reaches back to grab Magnifico’s right arm, only to receive an elbow to the head for his troubles! Realizing that letting Fugue have his arm is probably not a good idea, ELM wildly drives his elbow into Fugue’s head, doing everything he can to get him off of his back! ELM lands three or four good shots and goes back for one more...only to have Fugue catch his arm in mid-air! As the crowd begins to boo, Fugue maneuvers Magnifico’s arm into a Armbar, causing the luchadore to cry out in pain as Fugue locks in the Minor Chord! A sadistic grin on his face, Fugue wrenches back on Magnifico’s arm with all his strength, tearing apart the muscle and tendons as ELM grits his teeth and fights through the pain!

Riley: Well, that was quick. Coming up next, we have-

Stevens: Riley, would you hold on a second? I’ll admit that Fugue’s Minor Chord is a deadly submission, but it doesn’t look like Magnifico has any intention of submitting anytime soon.

Riley: *sigh* Fine, we can wait around for ELM to cry and give up like the little bitch he is. Happy now?

The ref gets in Magnifico’s face and asks if he wants to submit, only to receive a shouted “No!” and cry of pain in response. Upon hearing this, Fugue wrenches back even harder and commands the luchadore to give up, his grin growing wider with every passing second. Realizing that he needs to escape, Magnifico begins to search around with his foot, apparently looking for the ropes! After a bit of searching, ELM’s foot grazes by the nearby bottom rope, but it’s too far away for Magnifico to put his foot onto! Gritting his teeth, Magnifico uses all his strength to shift his body backwards, inching ever so slowly towards the ropes! ELM gets closer...and closer...and closer...before throwing his foot out and placing it on the bottom rope! A relieved cheer rises from the crowd as the ref shouts at Fugue to release the hold. However, Fugue refuses to do so until the ref begins to count to three, apparently triggering something within the sane part of Fugue’s mind. Reluctantly, Fugue releases both of Magnifico’s arms and rolls to his feet while ELM writhes in pain on the mat.

Stevens: Magnifico was able to escape the Minor Chord, but it looks like the submission hurt his arms pretty badly.

Riley: Well, what do you expect? Magnifico, being as scrawny as he is, should be happy that Fugue didn’t break his arms in twelve different places!

The second Fugue is on his feet, he begins stomping away at Magnifico’s right arm, refusing to let up even when ELM begins pushing himself to his feet. Magnifico manages to reach one knee when Fugue grabs him by the right arm, pulls him to his feet, and then uses his grip to whip ELM across the ring. Magnifico rushes across the ring, bounces off of the ropes, and rushes back towards Fugue. As he approaches, Fugue charges towards the luchadore and drives his shoulder forward, slamming it into Magnifico’s right arm and knocking him to the ground with a Shoulder Block! ELM cries out and grips his arm in pain as Fugue begins dropping his knee on the damaged limb, weakening it further and further with each consecutive blow! After landing five or so solid Kneedrops, Fugue grabs Magnifico’s right arm and drags him over to the ropes, placing it on the bottom rope and drawing an anticipatory wave of boos from the audience! Fugue then hits the mat, rolls out of the ring, and steps to the outside, before reaching up and grabbing Magnifico’s arm. Fugue slowly lifts the arm up...and then violently pulls it downwards, driving Magnifico’s arm into the bottom rope! ELM cries out and tries to withdraw his arm, but Fugue refuses to relinquish his grip, and instead lifts Magnifico’s arm once more! Fugue drives it downwards once again, and this time allows ELM to repossess his arm, gripping tightly and writhing in pain as the agitated fans boo in unison. Fugue turns to the fans behind him, smiles, and offers a small bow, which earns him a string of curses and a bevy of threats from the fans in the front row.

Riley: Fugue, ever the gentlemen, thanking the fans for the undying love and support they show him!

Stevens: Uh huh. Back in reality, Fugue has done an admirable job of working over Magnifico’s right arm, which, of course, isn’t helping his standing with the live audience.

Riley: Pfft, what kind of fantasy are YOU leaving in, Stevens? Can’t you see that these people love him?

Stevens: Replace “love him” with “want him to be crushed by a comically large piano”, and you’ve got the right idea.

Fugue reluctantly leaves his loving fans and rolls back into the ring, popping to his feet as Magnifico slowly begins struggling to his. Fugue watches ELM for a few moments with mild amusement before grabbing Magnifico by the arm and pulling him to his feet, before using his grip to whip him across the ring. ELM rushes across the ring, bounces off of the ropes, and charges back at Fugue, who waits in the middle of the ring expectantly. As Magnifico approaches, Fugue kicks out his foot and drives it into ELM’s gut, doubling him over in the center of the ring. Fugue then sticks his head beneath Magnifico’s right arm, grabs him around the waist, and then begins to lift the luchadore into the air, apparently for a Northern Lights Suplex! However, Magnifico is but a foot off the ground when he suddenly drives his knee forward and slams it into Fugue’s gut, causing him to immediately stop the lifting process! Once ELM is back on his feet, he wraps his right arm tightly around Fugue’s head, grabs him by the waist, and begins to lift him into the air...when a jolt of pain suddenly rushes through Magnifico’s arm, forcing him to immediately put Fugue back on the mat! ELM turns and stumbles away from Fugue, gripping his right shoulder tightly, which allows Fugue to come up from behind him and trap the luchadore in a Rear Waistlock! Wasting no time, Fugue hoists Magnifico into the air and quickly falls backwards, slamming ELM’s head and neck into the canvas with a German Suplex!

Stevens: Ouch! It looked like Magnifico had countered Fugue’s Northern Lights Suplex, but the pain in his arm-

Riley: Wait, shut up! Fugue isn’t done yet!

With Magnifico still in his grasp, Fugue begins to slowly push himself to his feet, dragging ELM along with him. After a bit of struggling, Fugue finally stands again, Magnifico still trapped in the Rear Waistlock! However, that soon changes, as Fugue releases ELM’s waist, only to grab the luchadore by the right arm and twist it into a Chickenwing! Fugue then stands to Magnifico’s right side, wraps his left foot around ELM’s right, and falls forward, pulling his opponent to the mat with a Chicken Wing Forward Leg Sweep! Magnifico’s elbow is driven straight into the canvas, drawing a cry of pain from the luchadore and a round of boos from the concerned crowd!

Riley: As I was saying, Fugue has just pulled off a brilliant chain of moves, as he first stuns Magnifico with a German Suplex before further damaging his arm with the supremely specialized Chickenwing Front Leg Sweep!

Fugue grabs Magnifico by his shoulder and quickly turns him onto his stomach, before draping his own body over the luchadore for the cover. As the ref slides into position, Fugue pins down both of ELM’s hands, making it that much harder for the luchadore to escape...

ONE...

TWO...No! Magnifico desperately pushes himself off of the mat, drawing a wave of cheers from the relieved crowd. Somewhat annoyed, Fugue uses his grip on Magnifico’s arms to drive him repeatedly into the mat, as he pulls ELM’s body off of the mat before slamming it back into the canvas! After about five or six slams and a great amount of booing, Fugue releases Magnifico’s left arm and begins rising to his feet, using his grip on ELM’s right arm to pull him up with him. Once both men are standing, Fugue, still gripping Magnifico’s arm, turns and makes a break for the corner nearest him, running up its turnbuckles as a wave of anticipatory boos pour in from the crowd! Those boos only grow louder as Fugue jumps backwards off of the top turnbuckle, flips over Magnifico’s head, and falls back-first on the mat, pulling ELM down with him and slamming his elbow into the mat!

Stevens: Whoa! What a maneuver from Fugue, hitting Magnifico with what seemed to be a modified Acid Drop that nailed ELM’s elbow to the mat!

Riley: Inventive, quick, intelligent, and insane. Isn’t Fugue just wonderful?

Magnifico immediately withdraws his arm and cries out in pain, but Fugue isn’t quite done yet. He begins to viciously kick away at ELM’s right shoulder until the luchadore pathetically turns onto his stomach, doing anything he can to lessen the pain. Unfortunately, turning onto his stomach probably wasn’t the best move, as Fugue immediately sits on Magnifico’s back, facing the same direction as the luchadore. He then grabs both of ELM’s arms and hooks them behind his body, locking the luchadore in a Full Nelson and setting him up for the Major Chord! Responding to the massive booing pouring in from every corner of the arena, Fugue pauses for a moment to smile and look out over the crowd, apparently feeling that Magnifico isn’t going anywhere. Maybe he isn’t, but that doesn’t mean he’s not gonna try, as the luchadore curves his legs inwards and begins kicking away at the back of Fugue’s head, desperately trying to break out of his hold! Fugue absorbs the first few kicks, determined to lock in the Major Chord...but finally releases Magnifico, knocked into a daze by the kicks to his head! Fugue stands up and stumbles away from ELM, his hands covering his head, as Magnifico slowly pushes himself to his feet, his arm folded across his chest. As Fugue gets his bearings straight, he turns to face Magnifico, who has just gotten to his feet. Enraged, he charges at Magnifico, who simply sidesteps the charging Fugue! ELM then wraps his feet around Fugue’s feet, causing him to fall face-first towards the mat! As Fugue falls, Magnifico shoots his hands out and wraps them around Fugue’s face, locking him into the Sangria Stretch as both men hit the ground! The fans immediately explode into cheers as Fugue cries out in pain, his neck being torn apart by the Stretch!

Stevens: Sangria Stretch! Sangria Stretch! Magnifico took advantage of a rare burst of anger from Fugue and locked him into Sangria Stretch!

Riley: Bah, celebrate while you can! Soon, ELM’s arm will give out, allowing Fugue to easily escape! MWAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!

True to Riley’s word, Magnifico’s face is twisted in pain, as he tries his best to keep his hands locked around Fugue’s face! Fugue slowly raises his arm above the mat, looking as though he’s about to tap out...when ELM suddenly cries out and releases his grip, rolling away from Fugue and gripping his arm as the crowd releases a prolonged OHHH!

Riley: Hah, it seems my evil laughter was not misplaced! Well done, Riley! MWAHAHA!

Fugue slowly begins pushing himself to his feet, rubbing his neck in pain, as ELM remains on the mat, the pain currently too great for him to get back to his feet. As soon as Fugue sees Magnifico, a cocky grin comes over his face, as if to say “Oh, what’s up now, biatch?” Fugue leisurely strolls over to the luchadore, pauses...and then delivers a vicious kick to Magnifico’s right arm, drawing a howl of pain from the luchadore and a wave of well-deserved boos from the audience! Fugue then begins to wildly stomp away at ELM’s arm, his grin growing wider and his demeanor growing more insane by the second! After a countless amount of stomps, Fugue reaches down, grabs Magnifico’s right arm, and jerks him to his feet, before using his grip to whip ELM across the ring. Magnifico bounces off of the ropes on the far side of the ring and charges back towards Fugue, and as he approaches, Fugue sidesteps towards the luchadore, throwing his foot into the air and aiming it directly at his right shoulder with a Superkick! However, Magnifico hits the mat just before impact, rolling beneath Fugue’s kick and popping to his feet right behind him! Fugue spins around to face the luchadore, only to receive a boot to the gut for his troubles! Fugue doubles over in the center of the ring, allowing ELM to apply a Facelock with his left arm! Wasting no time, Magnifico immediately falls onto his back, pulling Fugue down with him and slamming his head into the canvas with a desperation DDT! A loud pop rises from the stands as Fugue falls limply onto his back, lying right next to the motionless luchadore.

Stevens: And Magnifico is fighting back, as he dodges Fugue’s Superkick before planting him into the mat with a quick DDT!

Riley: Bah, you make it sound as though Magnifico doesn’t have one dead arm and half a brain, but, um, he does. Yeah.

Neither man moves for several seconds, until Magnifico slowly rolls onto his stomach and begins pushing himself to his feet, greatly hindered by his damaged right arm. Fugue follows suit a few seconds later, quickly catching up to the luchadore. Finally, Fugue manages to slowly, surely stand up, followed by Magnifico a second later. Hoping to catch the luchadore off guard, Fugue throws a sloppy punch in his direction...only to have Magnifico block it and counter with a quick left to the face! A surprised Fugue is knocked a step backwards by the blow, but quickly recovers and tries again, only to have Magnifico block it once more and deliver another shot to his face! ELM suddenly begins jabbing away at Fugue’s face, overwhelming Fugue with his left fist as Magnifico folds his right arm across his body! Magnifico lands about ten quick shots before Fugue suddenly shoots his hands out and rakes them across the luchadore’s face, drawing incredible heat from the live crowd! ELM covers his face and stumbles away from Fugue, which allows Fugue to come up from behind the luchadore, grab his arms, and twist them into a Double Chickenwing! Before Magnifico even realizes what’s happening, Fugue hoists him into the air before dropping down onto his knees, slamming ELM BUTT-first into the canvas with the Coda! Magnifico cries out upon impact, his face twisted in pain as Fugue, still holding the Double Chickenwing, begins pushing himself to his feet!

Stevens: The Coda! Magnifico is in serious trouble here, as the Coda usually leads to Fugue’s deadly submission finisher, Harmony!

Riley: Not usually, always! And once it’s locked in, we can say goodbye Magnifico, hello upset, and a big how-dee to a match that doesn’t feature a dirty luchadore.

Once Fugue is on his feet, he glares down at the luchadore, obviously enjoying the moment...before jumping and flipping over Magnifico’s head, maintaining the Double Chickenwing as he does so and locking in the Harmony! A wave of concerned boos immediately pour in from the crowd as ELM howls in pain, as both his neck and damaged right arm are feeling the sting of Fugue’s Harmony! The ref slides to the mat and asks Magnifico if he wants to submit, only to receive a shouted “NO!” from the luchadore!

Riley: Yes! Yes! Fugue has finally revealed Magnifico as the terrible, terrible wrestler he is! A submission is mere seconds away!

A bloodthirsty grin painted across his face, Fugue pushes his body down as far as possible, crushing Magnifico’s neck beneath him! However, before Fugue can derive a tapout from his signature submission, ELM curls his knees up and forces them into Fugue's back, before using all his strength to shift his weight backwards, desperate to turn onto his back! Panicking, Fugue struggles wildly as ELM begins rolling onto his back, realizing that if Magnifico accomplishes his goal, the submission will be useless! Cheered on by the re-energized crowd, Magnifico ever so slowly inches his body backwards...before falling onto his back, pulling Fugue with him and pinning his shoulders onto the mat! The fans release an incredible pop as the ref slides into position and begins counting...

ONE...

TWO...

THR-Nooo! Fugue releases the Harmony at the last possible moment, which allows him to get off of his shoulders and fall to the mat! The fans, though disappointed, continue cheering like mad as Magnifico and Fugue lay side-by-side, motionless.

Stevens: No! No! ELM pulls out a great counter to the Harmony, forcing Fugue to release the submission!

Riley: Christ! What does it take to get a girly-armed luchadore to submit around here?

After a few moments of motionlessness from both men, Fugue slowly stirs and begins pushing himself to his feet, leaving ELM alone and in great pain on the mat. A few seconds later, Fugue is back on his feet, a mixture of exhaustion and rage etched across his face. He purposefully storms over to Magnifico and begins to wildly stomping at the luchadore, shouting incoherently at him while doing so. The fans immediately begin to boo, and only grow louder when Fugue grabs ELM by the right arm and jerks him to his feet. Once both men are standing, Fugue delivers a stiff kick to the luchadore’s gut, causing Magnifico to clench his stomach and double over in the center of the ring. Wasting no time, Fugue pulls ELM into a Suplex position, before lifting the luchadore into the air, twisting him around in mid-air and setting him up for the Orange Crush!

Riley: Yeah! That’ll teach Magnifico not to bend to Fugue’s will!

Stevens: It looks like Fugue is done with trying to make Magnifico submit, and is simply going to punish the luchadore with an Orange Crush Powerbomb!

Fugue holds ELM in mid-air for a few moments, reveling in the moment and the pain he’s about to cause to his opponent...but before he can do so, the luchadore suddenly squirms out of his grasp, twisting around in mid-air and landing feet-first on the mat, facing the same direction as Fugue! Fugue spins around to face the luchadore, only to receive a stiff boot to the gut for his troubles! With Fugue temporarily stunned, ELM uses his left arm to grab Fugue’s arm and twist it into a Chickenwing! Unable to lift his right arm and wrap it around Fugue’s head, Magnifico simply falls onto his knees, pulling Fugue down with him and driving his chin into the luchadore’s shoulder with Montezuma’s Revenge! Fugue springs backwards off of Magnifico’s shoulder and falls flat on his back, drawing another pop from the relieved crowd! ELM remains on his knees for a moment, temporarily disabled by the pain running through his body, and glares down at Fugue, who lays motionless on the mat!

Stevens: Montezuma’s Revenge! Magnifico managed to counter out of the Orange Crush Powerbomb and hit Fugue was his trademark Chickenwing Jawbreaker!

Riley: Blasphemy! The Chickenwing belongs to Fugue! Apologize right this instant, Magnifico!

Gripping his arm tightly, ELM finally pushes himself to his feet, his face twisted in pain. Magnifico looks down on Fugue for one more moment...before heading over to the nearby corner, intensifying the cheers that pour in from every part of the arena! Upon reaching the corner, Magnifico begins climbing its turnbuckles, hindered but not stopped by his damaged right arm. After a bit of struggling, ELM finally reaches the top turnbuckle, standing up on it and turning away from the crowd as he does so. Magnifico pauses for a moment...and then proudly salutes his Mexican Flag to the great delight of the live audience! ELM leaps off of the top turnbuckle right after his salute, flipping backwards in mid-air and falling towards Fugue with the Mexican Pride Press! Thousands of flashbulbs go off, lighting up the inside of the arena as Magnifico makes perfect contact with the Press, crashing directly into Fugue’s gut! The cheers reach their absolute peak as Magnifico bounces off of Fugue and falls to the mat, coming to a rest right next to him.

Stevens: Oh my God, I can’t believe it! Magnifico managed to stun Fugue long enough with Montezuma’s Revenge to land the Mexican Pride Press! The only question is, will he be able to cover?

His eyes closed and his chest heaving, ELM remains motionless for several seconds...before slowly lifting his left arm and draping it across Fugue’s chest, making the cover and further increasing the amount of cheering! The ref immediately slides into position and begins counting...

ONE...

TWO...

THREEE!! The ref springs to his feet and signals for the bell, which is nearly drowned out by the resulting crowd noise.

DING DING DING

Funyon: Your winner, by pinfall, El Luchadooooooorre Magnificooooooo!!

Stevens: What a fantastic finish to this match! Wouldn’t you agree, Riley?

Riley: Um, no.

Stevens: Fine, be that way. Despite Riley’s surly attitude, we still have a Main Event to call, which is coming up next1 Don't go anywhere, folks!

The final shot shown before the show fades into nothingness is El Luchadore Magnifico, completely oblivious to his victory, lying motionless over Fugue...

February 13, 2003

The scene fades in on Ben Hardy standing with microphone in hand. Looming behind him are the SWF Tag Team Champions Frost and Tom Flesher. Behind them is a banner with the SWF Smarkdown logo. The Magnificent 7 duo is in full wrestling gear with Frost brand cigars smoldering between their lips. Frost pushes his tag belt up further on his shoulder and puts a reassuring hand on the ICTV gold around his waist. Tom Flesher runs his hands over the top of the belt around his middle, seeming to gain a little more confidence and weight in his stature with each rub.

“Ben Hardy here, and with me are the SWF Tag Team Champions Frost and the ‘Superior One’ Tom Flesher…”

“That’s the ‘Superior One’ Tom Flesher and Frost.” Flesher leans over Hardy’s shoulder to correct him with a smirk. Frost narrows his eyes and scowls at Tom. Flesher gives his partner a placating grin. “Flesher, Frost, ‘fl’ before ‘fr,’ just wanted to get the billing right.”

Hardy overlooks the interruption and continues on with his set questions. “We haven’t heard much from you, Tom, since the Clusterfuck and what was a devastating loss to El Luchadore Magnifico. Some reports have you being very despondent and out of sorts. How are you doing?”

Hardy holds the mic up to Flesher, who now looks on the edge of laying the announcer out. “How am I doing? Oh, the Superior One will tell you how he’s doing.” Flesher takes the microphone out of Ben’s hand and takes a step closer to the camera.

“What happened after Clusterfuck is in the past and I’m always one to live in the future. I might have taken a fork in the path off the King’s Road, but I’m still a world champion.” Flesher reaches behind him to unhook the title. He holds it up by one of the leather ends to show the camera. “I’m a WORLD Tag Team Champion. I’ve been thinking about it and I’ve realized that this is the belt I’ve wanted all along. These just aren’t party favors the Suicide King hands out at the door. To win these titles, I had to beat two men and to retain them I have to beat two more men. Beating two guys at the same time is a lot more impressive than just one.”

Ben Hardy leans over to get at the mic, “I think you’re neglecting that you have a partner to…”

Flesher yanks the microphone back and gives Hardy the evil eye. “I,” he punches the pronoun “am a WORLD Tag Team Champion and no rag tag pair is going to change that. I’ve beaten the crap out of Mak Francis so many times his fat, ugly mama called me up and told me to stop stealing her gig. As for CIA, I’ll tell you what CIA stands for, it stands for ‘Certified Idiotic Asshole.’”

Ben Hardy puts a hand on the microphone and wrestles it away from the reluctant to give it up Flesher. “This is your first title defense ever, even though you’ve held the belts for two months. Frost,” Hardy turns to the big man and Flesher snorts as he refastens his belt “you are now the longest reigning individual tag champion in SWF history. You certainly know what it takes to win and hold onto these belts, but do you think that you and Tom Flesher can co-exist and work as a team tonight, especially with this being a tag tornado situation with all four men in the ring at the same time.”

Frost takes the cigar out of his mouth and cranks his neck back and forth to loosen it up before speaking. “If Tom Flesher does his part, I’ll do mine like always.” He points a finger over at Tom, who is not paying attention as he examines the surfaces of his belt for any scuffs or marks from taking it off just now. “I am the only double champion in the SWF right now for a reason. It’s because I go out there night after night and cram guys in the hurt locker. Tom and I are on the same page as far as retaining these belts and keeping them in the Mag 7 camp is concerned. I’ll tell those two, faces,” Frost points at the camera and turns his head to spit disgustedly on the ground “what’s going on tonight. Some might say I have unfinished business with CIA, but I was finished with his punk ass a long time ago. The reason he disappeared shortly after Ashes to Ashes was because he didn’t want me beating him death at the next ppv. He’s also hooked himself up with the wrong partner as we put Mak Francis on the job train to win these titles in the first place. Toot-toot faces, the train’s about ready to pull out of the station again.” Frost slaps his hand on the tag belt on his shoulder and storms out of frame with Flesher right behind him.

Hardy is left alone on screen and looks to wrap up. “There you have it from the tag team champions. They’re determined to win here tonight, but I don’t know if their individual efforts can overcome CIA and Mak Francis for there is no ‘I’ in team.”

At that cliché, Tom Flesher pokes his head back into the shot, looking to slip in one last word with Frost already long gone.

“I know that there’s no ‘I’ in team, but there is an ‘M’ ‘E.’” Flesher jabs a thumb in his chest and then walks off stage as the shot fades out.

February 13, 2003

The camera fades back in on the legendary Madison Square Garden, home of numerous tiny independent federations as well as the annual Westminster Kennel Club dog show. The rabid New York City wrestling fans are on their feet cheering as the SmarkTron shows many fans with their signs of the night. Signs such as "TOM IS CIVILIZATION," "EAST COAST {blur} YOU" and "THE ICEMAN CUMMETH" are all given their few seconds of fame before the SmarkTron fades out, then lights back up with the Tag Team Title graphic. On the left, a photo of the Magnificent Seven's Tag Team Champions, Frost and Tom Flesher, appears. On the right, a picture fades in showing Mak Francis and the Canadian Intelligence Agent, and finally, a corny tornado graphic twists and turns onto the screen, settling between the two team photos.

Stevens: "Fans, welcome back to this week's edition of SWF Smarkdown. We've seen some very exciting action already tonight."

Riley: "And we're about to see some more, with the Magnificent Seven backstage ready to defend their WORLD Tag Team Titles against the world's worst tag team, Mak Francis and the Canadian Intelligence Agent."

Stevens: "Tom Flesher and Frost are indeed the reigning SWF Tag Team Champions, but they've been having a lot of problems of late. In fact, there were even rumors backstage that if Flesher won the World Championship at Clusterf*ck, he was going to forcibly vacate the Tag Titles."

Riley: "Oh, that's just BS, Stevens. Everyone here knows that Tom Flesher values the WORLD Tag Team Title just as much as he covets the SWF Heavyweight Championship."

Stevens: "If that was true, he wouldn't have treated Frost like a useless piece of meat for the past few months."

Riley: "Oh, come on. Now you're just making stuff up to make the Champions look bad."

Stevens: "And you'd NEVER do that, would you, Bobby?"

Riley: "Is it MY fault that Magnifico likes to kick adorable puppies in the ribs, Mark? Is it MY fault that Flesher's able to heal those puppies with a simple laying-on of hands? I'm sure he doesn't like it either, but damn it, that's just the way it is."

Stevens: *sigh* "Well, fans, there's just no way I can compete with that. Let's go to Funyon."

Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a Tornado Tag Team Match scheduled for one fall, and it is for the S… W… F… TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIPS!!!!!”

The crowd applauds politely.

Funyon: “The challengers…”

The lights in the arena change, everything acquiring a slight red tinge, as the SmarkTron flickers to life. It shows a Canadian flag flowing in the wind and the instrumental accompaniment to 'O Canada' plays.

At least, it plays the first verse, before a soft, digitized female voice cuts in, whispering, 'Midnight Carnival,’ as the SmarkTron fades to a picture of CIA standing next to Mak Francis for just an instant…

*BOOM!* A bright red rush of pyro shoots up along the stage, glittering points of red light slowly drifting down from above, and a voice rings out, accompanied by the opening riff to 'Secret Agent Man', and the emergance of a masked figure, microphone in hand, Smarktron showing highlights of some of CIA's finest moments, although for CIA, finest moments varies between amazing athletic feats, and silly showboating. Before Funyon makes his announcement, CIA stops in the center of the aisle and, to a pop from the crowd, produces a microphone.

“I’m proud to be a Canadian, eh…” he says, then pauses pregnantly… “But it’s nice to be here in NEW… YORK… CITY!!!!!!!!!!” The crowd bursts into a cheap pop for the Canadian superstar, who grins, nods and waits a few seconds. “So tonight I’m here… gonna drink some Labatt’s beer… And maybe some Yuengling Lager… so I wanna hear you holler… for THE FRANCHISE, MAK FRANCIS!”

The house lights go down, accompanied by the wispy sounds of a digital xylophone. The music pulsates with a hard beat done by violins striking up, overshadowing the background.

“So do you wanna’ be a Franchise… And live large… A big house… five cars…”

The SmarkTron flares up with a blue and white photonegative image of Mak Francis, which is followed by ‘The Franchise’ in large green lettering, flashing on the screen in time with the beat.

“The rent charge… Comin’ up in the world, don’t trust nobody… Gotta’ look over your shoulder constantly!”

As the opening lyrics from Rock Superstar by Cypress Hill, slightly altered of course, blare over the PA system, it takes a little while but eventually the self-proclaimed Franchise makes his way through the curtain. The lights come back up and Francis stands next to CIA, tilting his shades down on the bridge of his nose, before looking left and then right. CIA follows, almost shadowing Mak as he adjusts his Maple Leaf mask…

“I remember the days, when I was a young kid grownin’ up… Lookin’ in the mirror dreamin’ about blowin’ up!”

That cues multiple short bursts of green pyrotechnics erupting from either side of him. Mak readjusts his sunglasses with a smirk, and CIA does the same with his mask, before the pair slowly strolls down to ringside. After walking up the ring steps, Mak wipes his feet on the apron, giving a playful salute to the crowd, before entering through the middle ropes. Francis climbs the nearest turnbuckle and poses with both fists raised in the air. CIA follows in and mounts the adjacent turnbuckle.

Funyon: “Currently in the ring, at a combined weight of 462 pounds, they are the number-one contenders to the SWF Tag Team Titles, U.S. Champion ‘The FRANCHIIIIIIIIIIIIISE, MAK FRANCISSSSSSSS, and the CANADIAN… INTELLIGENCE… AGENT, otherwise known as C! I! A!”

The crowd applauds loudly for the challengers as they hop down off the turnbuckles. Suddenly, the lights go down.

Funyon: "And their opponents..."

"HERE WE ARE... BORN TO BE KINGS... WE'RE THE PRINCES OF THE U-NI-VEERRRRRRRSSSSSSE..."

Blue lights illuminate Madison Square Garden as the opening lines of Queen's "Princes of the Universe" ring out. The blue lights are abruptly supplanted by red as the guitars begin to grind over the speakers as Frost and Tom Flesher step out through the curtain. Frost leads the way, the ICTV Title strapped around his waist and his half of the Tag Team Titles slung over his shoulder. Flesher, behind him, has his Tag Team Title over the shoulder of his warmup suit. Each man has a cigar between his teeth, and as they walk to the ring, Flesher pauses to blow a mouthful of smoke toward the fans.

Funyon: "Currently making their way to the ring, at a total combined weight of 490 pounds, they represent the Magnificent Seven... they are the SWF Tag Team Champions, FRRRRROOOOOOST and "The SUPERIOR ONE," TOMMMMM FLEEEEESHEEEEERRRRRR!!!!!"

Flesher and Frost strut to the ring, and when Frost reaches the steps, he grinds his cigar out on the ringpost as he enters the ring. Flesher follows behind, grinding his cigar out exactly the same way. Each man sets his cigar on the apron. They hand their belts over to referee Mark Hebner, who holds them up as Flesher strips off his warmup and Frost sets down his ICTV Title. Finally, with all four men in the ring, Hebner calls for the bell.

DING DING DING!!!!!

Without wasting a second, Flesher and Frost charge across the ring, as Flesher nails Mak with a stiff palm strike and Frost, in turn, clobbers CIA with a right hand. CIA rolls with the blow, stepping off to the side and answering back with a quick elbow to the head! Frost staggers back, leaving just enough room for Mak Francis to step around and send Flesher careening into him! When the two Manificent Seven members collide, a loud THUD echoes through the arena, and it's only a matter of a Mak Francis dropkick to send Frost over the top rope and out of the ring while CIA goes to work on Flesher. The fans pop appropriately for the Carnival-influenced team, and CIA responds by turning to the crowd and shouting...

"I'M HERE! AND IT'S CLEAR! THAT I'VE JUST HAD- YEEEEEEEARGH!"

CIA's crowd-pleasing beer chant is broken up by Flesher sliding in and hitting him hard below the belt with an uppercut from behind! CIA doubles over in pain as Flesher smirks, then reaches in to grab his left ankle. Tom is stopped, though, when Mak Francis slides in behind him and hits a surgical dropkick that nails Flesher squarely in the side of the head, knocking him off to the side. Flesher falls to the mat and CIA shakes off the low blow as Mak takes hold of Flesher's arm.

Stevens: "Tom Flesher and Frost start off strong, but Mak Francis and CIA take advantage of an early miscommunication and step up to take control!"

Riley: "That bumbling Scando! I can't believe Flesher even keeps him employed!"

Stevens: "Maybe it's because Frost is his only link to the Tag Team Titles, Bobby."

Riley: *pause* "On second thought, Frost shows immense potential for improvement in the future."

CIA sees Francis and catches on, grabbing Flesher's other arm. As Frost pulls himself onto the apron and slides into the ring, CIA and Mak whip Flesher to the ropes. As Flesher rebounds, Mak throws his foot up to look for a Yakuza kick. Tom sees it coming and ducks, sliding out behind his adversaries. He runs the ropes, bouncing off on his own accord this time, and charges at the challengers to nail a double clothesline. They see it coming, though, and simultaneously spin around and nail Flesher in the face with dual Roaring Elbows! Flesher nearly flies backwards, falling flat onto his back. He pops up, looking dazed, and throws an absolutely lethal-looking lariat at nothing in particular before falling back onto his face and rolling idly out of the ring as the fans laugh and mock him with a “FLESHER SUCKS!” chant.

Stevens: “Tom Flesher thought he had outsmarted Francis and CIA, but they managed to catch him off-guard and absolutely clobber him with those Roaring Elbows!”

Riley: “I’m sure it’s all part of a detailed game plan, Stevens. There’s no way Flesher could be outsmarted by some Canuck and his playmate.”

Mak and CIA fire off a quick high five, but their celebration is cut short when Frost rumbles across the ring and finishes what Flesher started by nearly decapitating the challengers with a double clothesline! Frost pauses to sneer at the sold-out New York City crowd, which answers by booing him unmercifully. The ICTV Champion shrugs the crowd’s reaction off and reaches down to grab the Canadian Intelligence Agent by the mask. Still stunned, CIA does little to defend as Frost slams one muscular arm into his neck and lifts him into the air in a single-handed choke. Frost lifts CIA into the air, holds him for half a beat and then throws him forward, driving him into the mat with a ring-shaking chokeslam! The Iceman from Iceland arrogantly kneels down onto CIA and motions for Mark Hebner to count…

ONE!

NO! CIA kicks out weakly, and Mak Francis dives in to break up the pin! Frost pushes himself to his feet, almost ignoring the effects of Mak’s dive entirely as he spins around, turning to a just slightly darker shade of red. Flesher, meanwhile, regains his senses and begins to pull himself back into the ring. Frost grabs Francis and jerks his left arm, whipping him to the ropes. As ‘the Franchise’ rebounds, Frost spins around to go for a uraken, but Mak ducks under it! He hits the opposite ropes… but goes spilling to the floor when Tom Flesher pulls the top strand down! Mak lands on his feet, but Flesher grabs the top rope and swings out with a quickly improvised dropkick that stuns Francis just long enough for Tom to throw him into the ring and follow behind.

Stevens: “Astute use of teamwork by both sides, and now it looks like we’re going to get into that wonderful human game of chess that we call wrestling.”

Riley: “I think when Frost is involved, it’s more like a human game of Whack-a-Mole.”

The Velvet Hammer makes a grab at CIA, but the Canadian Intelligence Agent fends him off with a few quick side-elbows followed up by a hard knee to the abdomen. Frost doubles over as CIA grabs him in a front facelock and shuffles toward the center of the ring. Twisting quickly, CIA keeps his hold on Frost’s chin and wrenches it out to the side as he spins out with a swinging neckbreaker! Frost hits the mat hard as Flesher and Francis grapple in the corner.

Flesher dives down, trying to hook Mak’s left leg with a single-leg takedown. Francis feels it coming and counters by stepping back slightly. Flesher still manages to get his leg, but Mak immediately spins out to the side and hooks the arm in the crook of his knee. Dropping down lightning-fast, Mak extends himself across Flesher’s shoulders and hooks the free arm in a wristlock. Mak rolls forward, putting Flesher on his back with a classic crucifix pin! Hebner counts

ONE!

TW- NO!!!! Flesher breaks the pin and rolls onto his stomach, bellying out instinctively. Mak stays on him, controlling Flesher’s left arm by keeping the wristlock. Flesher tries to pull away, but Francis keeps the pressure on him as CIA and Frost trade blows across the ring. ‘The Franchise’ pulls Flesher’s arm out all the way, then drops to the side in an early jujigatame! Flesher, panicking, flails around and tries desperately to break the hold. As the fans begin to pop for the imminent submission, Flesher finally kicks one leg out and happens to land it on the bottom rope. Once he realizes that he’s safe, he locks his legs in a scissors grip around the rope and holds tight until Mark Hebner forces Mak to break the hold.

Stevens: “Fine job by Mak Francis, catching Tom Flesher with a crucifix chained into a cross arm breaker. Let me tell you, this kid has come a LONG way since he debuted in the SJL, and tonight he makes his first appearance as United States Champion. What more can the Franchise show us tonight?”

Riley: “Maybe he can show us how a Franchise turns tail and runs from someone as clearly and obviously Superior as Tom Flesher, Stevens. Like it or not, Flesher’s got it ALL over this kid.”

As if Riley were some sort of font of irony, Francis immediately picks Flesher up and throws a stiff kick into his ribs. Tom grabs his ribs and gasps, caught off-guard by the boot. Mak smirks and shifts his weight, trying to whip Flesher to the ropes, but Flesher plants his feet. As Mak tries to follow through with the Irish whip motion, Flesher simply keeps himself balanced and slaps on a side headlock. Immediately, the NYC crowd begins to boo. The Franchise tries to shake Tom off, but he simply can’t overcome Flesher’s strength and decides instead to deal with the mild discomfort.

Frost, meanwhile, is dealing with some mild discomfort of his own, as CIA rains down a series of quick right hands that catch the Iceman from Iceland off-guard! He nails Frost with one more solid right cross, then steps back. CIA does a few quick dance steps, complete with hip gyration and completely unnecessary Riverdance kicking. Then, he begins guzzling a pantomimed beer, and just as he pounds the last drop, he cracks the imaginary bottle over Frost’s head! He cocks his elbow up to deliver a real blow… but Frost catches him with a punch flush in the solar plexus! CIA doubles over, caught completely off-guard and unready for the hit. Frost, meanwhile, grabs his opponent in a body slam position and drops him over one shoulder. He walks calmly toward the turnbuckle, nodding at Flesher, who strains to keep his side headlock on Mak Francis. Then, without a second thought, Frost carelessly dumps CIA face-first onto the turnbuckle! The crowd flinches collectively as CIA crumbles to the mat.

Steven: “What a vicious snake eyes facedrop by Frost! Flesher isn’t having such good luck, though…”

Flesher strains to keep the pressure on the Franchise’s neck, but Mak is gradually getting into stronger and stronger position as Flesher tries to counter and not complete a move per se. He finally decides to kick out his feet and splat Francis gut first on the canvas. He cringes slightly from the blow and Flesher adjusts to work the headlock on the mat.

Stevens: “Standing bulldog by the Superior One grounds Mak Francis and he doggedly holds onto that headlock.”

Riley: “Flesher and Frost make the perfect tag team. They’re a complete 180 from each other and therefore compliment nicely. Tom works the submission while Frost pummels CIA in the corner. Francis and CIA are too similar as they are both complete dorks.”

Frost has CIA pinned in the corner with a series of hooks and jabs that served him well as an amateur boxer. The Franchise pushes himself up and claws away at Flesher’s arms. Mak throws his weight into Flesher’s side and rolls him upside down on his shoulders.

ONE

Flesher kicks his legs and rolls back over, still holding the headlock. Francis flips him over again.

ONE

Tom easily rolls back and gives the headlock an extra crank.

Stevens: “I don’t think Francis is going to be able to control long enough for a pin, but it might just annoy the Superior One enough to break the move off.”

Riley: “He can keep that headlock on until Tom Arnold has a hit sitcom. That Canadian Carnie won’t be helping him out anytime soon.”

Frost gruffly rips CIA out of the corner by the tuffs of hair sticking out from above his mask. He takes him in a facelock and throws his near arm over his shoulder while grabbing a handful of tights. Frost hoists him horizontal with the mat and bounces him on the top rope. However, CIA bends his waist and hooks the toes of his boots on the bottom cord before Frost can complete the slingshot suplex. Frost moves forward as CIA lowers himself to stand flat on the apron.

Stevens: “My God, CIA is going to reverse the suplex to the floor!”

He yanks back, but can only get the Icelander’s feet a scant few inches off the turf. Frost attempts to suplex CIA back in, but the intelligence agent holds firm and shakes Frost off with a jut of his right shoulder. That’s enough to back Frost up a step and CIA glides between the ropes with a dropkick to the knee! Frost turns and staggers away holding a hand to his right knee while the fans pop. The masked marvel deftly hooks a half nelson on Frost’s right arm and dives forward to take Frost down while he’s still of balance.

Stevens: “One of Frost’s pet moves, the half nelson bulldog is utilized by his opponent. These two men had a series of matches last November and CIA knows the Icelandic Iceman very well as a win over him at Ashes to Ashes proves.”

With Frost down, CIA rises and tries to surprise Flesher with a quick double axehandle. However, he more than sees the man coming and Tom releases the headlock to roll out of the way, allowing the Canadian to strike his own partner!

Riley: “Too bad he doesn’t know Tom as well. Then again, Canadian Military Intelligence has to be the biggest oxymoron ever.”

CIA rises up from his partner aghast and takes a Doc Marten roundhouse kick to the kisser. Flesher seizes the moment and covers.

ONE

TWO

Stevens: “Easy kick out for CIA, but it looks like we’ve switched dance partners. Flesher is pulling CIA up and the still woozy Frost and Francis grope to find each other.”

Riley: “Men groping, men dancing and you say I’m the funny one.”

Flesher softens the Canadian up with a few palm strikes as Mak takes the bent over Frost in a facelock. Frost quickly spins behind Francis out of it and rises to hook a half nelson and snake his other arm over Mak’s neck in a Cobra Clutch. Francis grapevines the near leg and uses it as a pivot for a standing switch. He makes with his own Cobra Clutch, but Frost uses the same counter and keeps hold of the leg to sweep Mak face first to the canvas.

Stevens: “Dueling Cobra Clutches from Mak and Frost. While it is both men’s submission move of choice, Frost turns it into an Icelandic legsweep to put the Franchise down.”

Riley: “Shows you who has the better grasp of the hold. Mak Francis likes to think he’s a technical master, but we all know he can’t hang with Tom Flesher and just now he couldn’t even hang with Frost. He was a good weak link for them to boot out of the Mag 7.”

Flesher cinches CIA around the midsection to setup the Ego Buster, but he has just enough on the ball to fire an elbow to the side of the head. Tom releases his grip and takes a sharp knee to the gut. CIA moves in to attack, but is cutoff by two sweaty arms wrapping around his throat!

Stevens: “Frost saves with the Cobra Clutch!”

Before he can get it locked on tight, CIA bucks forward and throws Frost over his back in a pseudo judo throw. Frost lands on his hands and knees in front of Flesher. He goes to push himself up, but the masked fan favorite hops up to Frost’s broad back and vaults off with a seated dropkick to Tom Flesher’s chest!

Stevens: “CIA uses Frost as a springboard on a great use of a dropkick!”

Riley: “I don’t see what was so great about it.”

The fans roar as CIA takes Flesher by the sides of his head from where he slumped in the lower right corner and drags him to the center of the ring. Mak flies in with a forearm to the still doubled over Icelander and clubs him down with forearms to the back.

Stevens: “CIA clamps on a full nelson, this could mean the Via Rail!”

Tom’s eyes go wide as he makes the same deduction as Mark Stevens. CIA doesn’t quite have his fingers locked on top of Flesher’s head and he manages to flex his broad shoulders and break the move in a display of strength. With arms still entwined, Flesher attempts to turn the man for an Unprettier, but CIA holds firm and drops to the mat, pulling the Superior One down with him and over for a backslide!

ONE

TWO

TH-

Stevens: “Flesher kicks his legs and rolls out of the backslide! He immediately heads for the ropes, but Mak Francis is leaving Frost and coming over.”

Riley: “This finesses crap isn’t going to beat Tom Flesher, he does all that stuff himself. It’s going to take a stiff double team maneuver.”

Flesher springs off the ropes and spies Francis. This throws him off and he forgets what he was going for, although his mind hasn’t been too right since the lost to ELM at Clusterfuck. CIA rises to meet Tom and jams his head into his stomach as he charges. CIA rears back and throws Flesher into the air with a backdrop. He twists to stare up at the blurry MSG lights like so many fighters before him. Mak grabs Tom’s legs as he falls and brings him into himself to ride gravity down into a powerbomb!

Stevens: “WICKED DOUBLE TEAM MANUEVER! THE PIN!”

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-

Riley: “NO! FROST SAVES!”

Frost dives into frame to knock Mak off of Tom. CIA quickly comes over to drop a couple forearms and Francis follows suit. A dazed Flesher rolls out of the way as the challengers bring Frost to his feet and grab a wrist a piece to whip him into the ropes. Frost gains his bearings as he springs off and extends both arms for a double clothesline. At the last instant, both men duck under it in tandem! Frost falls into the opposite ropes stunned! Francis and CIA leap to their feet and fire out their right legs to drill Frost with a pair of superkicks to the back! He tries to catch himself by the ropes, but sails over them to take a header to the floor!

Stevens: “Frost tried to work that double clothesline from earlier, but they were ready for it this time.”

CIA scrambles for the upper left turnbuckles as Francis retrieves Flesher and tugs him up. He pushes his weary form into the lower left corner and backs him up the strands to the top.

Riley: “What are these two morons doing? This isn’t synchronized swimming. Hit a move, get the pin!”

Stevens: “I’m guessing their taking your advice from earlier and looking to hit a BIG move for the win.”

CIA faces the roaring Madison Square Garden Crowd and fires off a crisp salute. Francis positions Flesher on the top turnbuckle and joins him there. He grabs a facelock and a bit of Tom’s blue singlet. With flashbulbs popping and fans gasping, Mak bounces on the top rope once for a little oomph and falls back. He jerks Flesher with him through the air and flips him back in a superplex as he falls. After hearing the banging impact, CIA takes his cue and hits the skies. His body rotates majestically over on the moonsault and he cock an elbow back as he lines up the target in his sites. Mak releases Flesher and stands back to watch his partner crash land with a big elbow for tag title gold!

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-

The audience moans as Frost snags CIA by the ankle and rips him to the floor!

Stevens: “Great Powerplex variation with CIA hitting the Via Rail to finish off!”

Riley: “Too bad they wasted time setting that damn thing up and Frost was able to recover for the save.”

CIA slides to his feet on the outside and Frost gruffly throws him into the guardrail by the shoulder. It makes a metallic clang as Frost pulls himself to the apron by the second rope. Hebner chastises Frost as he emerges on the lip of the ring. Francis tries to fire a quick Yakuza kick at the big man, but he grabs the top rope and sways back to avoid it. Frost allows the recoil to shoot him forward and he’s able to lean over the ropes and wallop Mak with a hand of stone right jab as he recovers from the missed kick! Francis spins from the shot and stumbles away. Frost steps over the top rope to the ring and puts a hand on Mak’s back as he takes his wrist and shoots him into the ropes. Mak turns to take the ropes in the back and sees Frost stretching out his arm for a clothesline. Francis surmises that he can easily duck the arm, but that’s before he feels a jarring blow to his left knee! Frost charges with his lariat and Mak crumples to the canvas!

Stevens: “Double goozle from the champs! Flesher hit that knee clip just right, but he still doesn’t look fully recovered from the Powerplex!”

Tom slumps off to the side as Frost hooks the leg to retain the straps.

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-

A gasp of relief bubbles from the fans this time as CIA snatches the Icelander’s ankle and tows him to the outside!

Riley: “WHAT THE HELL! HE CAN’T DO THAT!”

Stevens: “Frost did it.”

Riley: “HE’S NOT FROST!”

CIA puts his left hand on Frost’s shoulder as he lands on the floor and pushes his right forearm into his chest to throw him into the guardrail. The Canadian smirks at paying Frost back for what he gave him earlier and scurries to the apron. Flesher appears and reaches over the ropes to grab CIA’s blonde locks, but he hits a shoulder block through the ropes! CIA takes the top cord with both hands and looks to slingshot in with a sunset flip, but a he’s held fast by a hand on his foot!

Riley: “CIA couldn’t put the muscle into the throw to the steel like Frost did.”

The Carnie looks over his shoulder at Frost and misses Flesher coming back to grip the back of his head and slice his throat over the top rope! CIA’s body flings back with only Frost’s hand on him keeping him on the apron. He collapses to the edge of the ring gagging and spitting while holding his throat.

Stevens: “Flesher takes advantage of his partner’s assistance for a clothesline on the ropes, but he better watch out!”

The smile is wiped off of Flesher’s face as he feels two arms envelop him from behind. He leaves his feet courtesy of Mak Francis, who drops back in a gut wrench suplex! The back of Tom’s neck spikes the mat and he flops to his face.

Stevens: “The gut wrench suplex is often the set up for the Brotherly Love, but I don’t think he’ll have a chance to hit it.”

Frost slides into the ring under the bottom rope and pops to his feet in front of Mak as he stands. He kicks him in the midsection to double him over and clamps on a facelock. He grabs the tights and lifts Mak for the Ice Pick DDT, but he throws his weight back to make his feet and spins behind Frost out of the facelock. He gets a waistlock and tries to hoist Frost for a German suplex, but he’s a bit too heavy and Frost makes a standing switch as Francis strains against him. Frost goes for his own German suplex and lifts Francis off his feet. However, Francis maneuvers to clobber Frost in the ear with an elbow before he hits the back swing of the move and collars him around the neck as the big man lowers him. Mak attempts to pull Frost with him for a running bulldog, but Frost shoves him off into the ropes. He leans down for a backdrop, but the Franchise deftly walks into applying a facelock and hooks the near leg!

Stevens: “Franchise tag! Can he get Frost up?”

Francis buckles down for the pick up. Frost wiggles his leg free of the cradle and enfolds his arms around Mak’s waist while jutting his head under Mak’s armpit up. Francis flips head over heels to lie against Frost’s chest. Francis tries to fight free and Frost drops him with a sloppy, yet effective powerbomb! Hebner slides into frame as Frost rolls up Mak’s body and hooks the leg!

ONE!

TWO!

The camera pulls back to show CIA rushing for the save, but Flesher blindsides him with a knee to the gut and a thumb to the throat!

THREE-

Stevens: “SHOULDER UP!”

Flesher collars CIA with a front facelock and tosses his right arm over his shoulder. He captures his right leg with his near arm and snaps back on a textbook fisherman’s suplex!

Stevens: “PERFECT-PLEX!”

Flesher bridges for the pin as CIA squirms and fidgets to get out!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

CIA shakes loose and rolls to his right side, but it’s a nanosecond too late!

DING DING DING

Hebner looks to raise Tom’s arm in victory, but he’s already slid to the floor. CIA leaps to his feet, sees Flesher already gone and heads over to Frost just climbing off of Francis, however he too slides out of harm’s way.

Funyon: “Here are your winners by pinfall and still the SWF Tag Team Champions, ‘THE SUPERIOR ONE’ TOM FLESHER and FRRRRRRROOOOOOOSSSSSSSSST!”

Riley: “Thanks to a superior Perfect-plex.”

Flesher trips around the outside ring area. He lifts his sweaty head to look to the heavens and points a finger of tribute at the skies. The Madison Square Garden throng booms jeers and hisses at the champions, making it all the more fitting. Frost is already at the timekeeper’s table as Tom turns the corner. Frost tosses one of the tag titles to Flesher and collects his other two belts. Tom grabs it, takes a look and comes over. He shakes his head ‘no no’ at Frost and takes the other belt while handing him the one he threw him.

Stevens: “The belts are identical, what difference does it matter which one he has?”

Riley: “Of course it matters, a mother knows her own child. That belt is Flesher’s baby.”

CIA helps Mak up in the ring and the two partners converse. Frost raises a fist of defiance to the crowd while Flesher jaws at the fans around ringside.

Stevens: “Despite their troubles, Frost and Flesher keep squeaking out the wins despite themselves and seem to become a little closer as a team each week.”

Riley: “As I’m sure fellow Magnificent 7 member Fugue can tell you, sometimes if you jam two different notes together in the right circumstances you can still produce harmony and being the tag champs is that circumstance.”

A wave of cheers cuts through the crowd and the champs look to the ring. The camera zooms out just in time to see Mak and CIA soaring over the ropes with their bodies stretched out for a flying press! They slam into the Mag 7 contingent and they all topple into the commentator’s table!

Riley: “HEY NOW! MATCH IS OVER YOU TWO! GIVE IT UP!”

Stevens: “Not yet! All four men are duking it out right in front of us!”

Wild punches and kicks fly to pop the fans as the quartet make their feet and brawl around ringside. CIA slams Frost’s head into the table in front of Riley.

Riley: “I just remembered I have tickets for ‘Hairspray’ tonight. Gotta go, Mark, you’re on your own, goodnight.”

Bobby Riley bolts out of his chair with a girlish shriek and vaults over the railing to disappear into the crowd.

Stevens: “Can we please get security down here? We need to break this up!”

Mark can be seen trying to separate Mak and Tom. He doesn’t have much luck as they move away from him and he gives up. Mark Hebner tries to pull Frost and CIA apart, but he whips the Canadian into the guardrail. He charges to clothesline him over! Frost rests over the rail for a second and is then clotheslined over himself by Mak Francis! Francis turns around to take a superkick from Flesher and goes over the restraint himself! Flesher bounds over the metal guard and a spotlight shines down to illuminate the four men in the crowd. The audience screams wildly as the fight continues amongst them!

Stevens: “This is insane. The match is over, but the fight is not. For the first time in a long time it looks like the SWF tag division is really heating up and these four men are right in the middle of it! We’d love to stay with the action, but are grossly out of time. For the fled Bobby Riley, I’m Mark Stevens. We’ll see you this Sunday on Lockdown, if half the roster isn’t locked down in jail.”

The camera focuses on the fighting in the stands and a thump is heard as Mark drops his headset. He can be heard muttering, “Yeah, big time boxing has nothing on us.” The scene fades to black as wrestler’s faces start getting covered with bloody red.

February 13, 2003

I don't do results. Read the show. My promo will be up shortly, and sadly due to time constraints the card won't be up til tomorrow afternoon. You'll get an extra day to write because of it.

SMARKDOWN FEBRUARY 12TH!

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