the.weej

Blue strobe lights begin flashing around The University Arena, as Hotwire’s “Not Today” starts playing over the PA system. “After that hardcore battle we just witnessed, we go into the return of “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins. In his return, he goes one on one with Citizen Stryke!” “Spike has been out for nearly three months due to a knee injury. I just wish he stayed gone.” “Why?” “Have you ever had a conversation with him? He is very annoying.” After several seconds, Spike walks out from under the trench. Spike flips the hood from his jacket off his head and starts jumping around as the crowd gives off a positive reaction. Spike charges down to the ring, quickly sliding in under the bottom rope and jumping up to his feet. “Citizen Jenkins looks to be in great shape!” “Spike has always been in good shape. But that doesn’t stop him from sucking.” “You are a very negative person.” The camera focuses in on Funyon in the middle of the ring. “First, in the ring. Weighing in at two hundred and twenty five pounds. From Hollywood, California and making his return to the SWF! He is “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins!!!” Spike jumps to the middle rope in the corner and raises both arms in the air. “Spike is making his return tonight as he goes one on one with the man known as Stryke.” “That is no easy task. Considering Stryke is ten times greater then Spike will ever be!” “Not Today” dies down as blue and silver pyro explodes from the top of the arena. Cypress Hill’s “How I Could Just Kill a Man” starts up. “Here we go!” Stryke appears out from under the trench as the crowd rises to their feet with jeers. Stryke makes his way past the crates and barbed wire as he comes down the aisle, ignoring the fans. “And his opponent!” booms Funyon. “Weighing in at Two Hundred and Nineteen pounds, hailing from Sydney, Australia. He is Stryke!!!” Stryke makes his way to the ring and hops up onto the ring apron. Stryke steps up onto the second turnbuckle and raises his arms in the air. “Stryke is going to destroy Spike!” “How can you tell that just by watching Stryke’s entrance?” “I have skills.” Stryke jumps over the top rope and stands in the corner opposite of Spike. The referee comes over and checks Stryke for weapons, before signaling for the bell. *Ding Ding Ding* “And this match is underway at SWF Battleground!” Both men stare at each other, as they enter the center of the ring. Stryke looks around the audience, as Spike puts his hand out for a handshake. Stryke looks at Spike, and accepts the handshake. “Stryke! What are you doing?” Both men back away from each other and start to circle around the ring. Both enter the center and lock up with a collar-elbow tie up. They each struggle to take control, with Spike finally getting the go behind with a hammerlock. Almost instantly, Stryke reverses behind Spike and locks in his own hammerlock. Spike tries to shake Stryke off, but instead counters back into his own hammerlock. “Spike and Stryke trade off hammerlocks. Both showing off some of their technical skills.” From the hammerlock, Spike snaps forward straight into a side headlock. Stryke easily pushes Spike off, straight into the ropes. Spike bounces off the ropes, and charges back into a shoulder block by Stryke. Stryke quickly charges into the ropes. Spike rolls over onto his stomach as Stryke jumps over him and continues his way into the ropes. Spike jumps up to his feet and into the air as he leapfrogs over Stryke. Stryke runs into the ropes again, and charges back at Spike. Spike slaps Stryke in the back, as Stryke continues running the ropes. Stryke bounces off the ropes and comes flying back toward Spike. Spike slaps Stryke on the back, as Stryke continues off the ropes. Spike slowly backs away from the center of the ring, as Stryke charges across the ring into the opposite ropes. Stryke continues running into the ropes, from one side of the ring to the other. “Stryke….STOP RUNNING!” “Ha ha!” “That is not funny! Damn it, Stryke! Stop running!” Stryke continues running into the ropes, as Spike looks around at the laughing audience. After about his eighth lap, Stryke finally realizes that Spike isn’t even near him, and stops running the ropes. Stryke looks around at the audience, realizing that Spike made a fool of him. “Spike is taking it to Stryke tonight!” Stryke starts jumping around, and wailing at Spike. “Stryke doesn’t like being made into a fool, obviously.” “No one does!” Spike tries to put it behind him, and puts his hand out for Stryke to shake. Without even thinking about, Stryke nails Spike across the face with a slap! “That’s right! Show him you are not a joke, Stryke!” Spike holds his face, as he looks back at Stryke. In retaliation, Spike unleashes a stiff knife edged chop across the chess of Stryke. “WHOOOOO” Stryke grabs at his chest as he stumbles backwards. Spike cracks another knife edged chop across the chest of Stryke. “WHOOOOO” Stryke stumbles backwards into the ropes. Spike grabs Stryke’s wrist and Irish whips him across the ring into the ropes. Stryke bounces into the ropes and comes charging back towards Spike. Spike hooks his arm under the returning Stryke’s arm and flips him in the air, looking for a hip toss. But Stryke easily lands on his feet, and in one fluid motion flips Spike over onto his back with a Japanese arm drag! Both men jump to their feet, with Stryke taking the charge. Stryke heads for Spike, but Spike quickly takes him down with a Japanese arm drag of his own! Both men jump to their feet, but Spike gets the advantage by pushing Stryke back into the ropes. Spike grabs Stryke by the wrist, and Irish whips him across the ropes. Stryke bounces into the ropes, and comes charging back at Spike. Spike wraps his arms around the waist of the returning Stryke, and flips him through the air looking for a tilt-a-whirl. Through the air Stryke goes, but is able to land on his feet! Stryke grabs Spike by the wrist, and Irish whips him back into the ropes. Spike bounces off the ropes and comes back into the waiting arms of Stryke. Stryke wraps his arms around Spike’s waist, and flips him through the air with a tilt-a-whirl. Through the air Spike goes, but Spike lands on his feet! Spike grabs Stryke’s wrist and Irish whips him across the ring into the ropes again! Stryke bounces into the ropes, and comes charging back towards Spike. Spike throws his arm through the air, aiming for a clothesline. Stryke ducks under the clothesline, as Spike charges into the ropes in front of him. Spike bounces into the ropes and comes charging back towards Stryke who is waiting with a clothesline of his own! But Spike ducks underneath it! Spike and Stryke both turn towards each other at the same time, and with the same idea in mind both jump into the air with a dropkick, that hits nothing but air! Both jump to their feet, and face off in an Indy stance! “Look at these two go!” “Why is the crowd cheering? I HATE THE INDY STANCE!” “Both men have a very similar style in the ring. They both went for the same thing, and both came up with nothing. This match is going to turn into who can hit who the most for the win!” Both Stryke and Spike get up to their feet, as they enter the middle of the ring. Stryke holds his hand out, looking for a handshake from Spike. But Spike didn’t forget what happened earlier, and slaps Stryke across the face! “Hey! What a sore loser!” Stryke holds his face, but retaliates with a quick kick to the abdomen. Spike falls over, as Stryke unleashes a knee to the chest. Stryke throws Spike’s arm over his shoulder and lifts Spike into the air, driving him down back first with a big power slam. Stryke walks backwards into the ropes, and comes back with a knee drop to the forehead of Spike. Spike grabs at his head, allowing Stryke to wraps his arms around his throat with a side headlock. “There you go Stryke! Quick shots, in and out. Wear Spike down!” “Stryke getting some shots in before locking in a hold to cut off the oxygen to Spike’s head. Nice strategy to keep the high flyer down.” “Stryke is a master of ring psychology. He knows how to wear you down, and beat the crap out of you!” Stryke keeps the hold locked in, as Spike struggles to escape. Spike throws his arms around, trying to get the crowd behind him. Soon enough, the crowd begins a “Holl-E-Wood” and “Stryke Sucks” chant going. Spike begins getting his blood flowing, as Stryke yells at the crowd to shut up. Spike begins fighting up, getting to one knee and soon enough to both of his feet. Stryke holds on to the headlock, but Spike throws an elbow into Stryke’s rib cage. Stryke stumbles back, as Spike hits another elbow. Stryke releases the hold, as Spike charges into the ropes with a full head of steam. Spike bounces into the ropes, and comes charging back towards Stryke. Stryke tries to stop Spike, and throws his knee up, but Spike dives over it! Spike locks his arm around Stryke’s leg, and pulls him over onto the mat with a school boy!!! One! Tw….No! Stryke pushes Spike off of him! Both men get to their feet, but Stryke slows Spike down with a knee to the gut. “That was a close call for Stryke!” “What are you talking about? Spike only got a one count!” With Spike knelt over, Stryke locks his leg around Spikes and his arm over Spike’s neck. Stryke pulls Spike backwards, driving him back first into the mat with a Russian leg sweep! Stryke quickly jumps up to his feet and blindly leaps into the air, crashing back first into Spike’s chest with a standing senton! Stryke stays on top of Spike, and hooks the leg! One! Two! Th…No! Spike gets a shoulder up! “And Spike is not going down that quick! He still has a lot of fight in him!” “I’m surprised. I thought Spike would have gone down a lot faster, especially against Stryke! Stryke rolls off of Spike, and climbs to his feet. Stryke reaches down and grabs Spike by his hair, pulling him up to his feet. Stryke grabs Spike by the wrist and Irish whips him into the corner. Without wasting time, Stryke charges after Spike towards the corner. Stryke comes in with a clothesline, but Spike catches him with a boot to the face!! Stryke stumbles backwards as Spike walks out of the corner. Spike turns his back to Stryke, and grabs onto the top rope. Spike jumps up onto the middle ropes, and springboards back with a cross body that connects with Stryke! “Springboard Cross body by Spike!” “Kick out, Stryke!” One! Two! Th…No! Stryke pushes Spike off of him. Spike climbs up to his feet, and waits for Stryke to get up. Stryke pulls himself up, and Spike charges into the ropes behind Stryke. Spike bounces into the ropes, and comes running back towards Stryke at full speed. Stryke turns around, just in time to see Spike throw his foot into the air for a Yakuza Kick!! But Stryke ducks underneath it! Stryke gets behind Spike, and spins him around. Stryke with a quick boot to the gut, allowing him to pull Spike into a front face lock. Stryke throws Spike’s arm over his neck, and lifts Spike straight into the air for a suplex! Spike pulls all his weight though and falls behind Stryke, landing on his feet! Stryke turns around as Spike spins around, catching Stryke with a rolling lariat! Spike quickly covers Stryke, and hooks the leg! One! Two! Thr…No! Stryke gets a shoulder up! Spike crawls away from Stryke and gets up to his feet, as he stands in the corner. Stryke gets to his feet, and holds himself up in the corner opposite of Spike. Spike charges towards the corner, diving to the mat with a handstand. Spike jumps out of the handstand, and leaps into the air, with a pump kick to the face of Stryke!! “Tidal Wave!” “That move should be illegal! It’s not right to kick someone in the face!” “You’re preaching to the wrong man.” Stryke stumbles out of the corner, but falls face first to the mat. Spike hurries over and rolls Stryke onto his back, going for the cover!! One! Two! Thr…No! Stryke gets a foot on the bottom rope! “Ha! Spike didn’t hook the leg!” “Spike made the mistake. When you are in the ring with a veteran and ring general like Stryke, you need to make sure you hook the leg. A small mistake that Spike now has to pay for.” Spike climbs up to his feet, and rests against the turnbuckles, as Stryke makes it up to his knees. Spike centers in on Stryke, and… *CRACK* A stiff kick to the chest of Stryke! “OUCH!” “That looked like it hurt!” “Looked like it hurt? THAT KICK HURT ME!” Spike backs away, but comes back with a second kick to the chest… *CRACK* “That’s the second kick to the chest. You know what’s next!” “NO! NO, I DON’T!” “Yes, you do.” “Yeah… I do. Spike backs away from Stryke, as he summons all the strength he has for the final kick to the face. Stryke fully stands on his knees, holding his chest in pain. Spike comes in for the final kick…. …… but Stryke ducks it! Spike spins around with all the momentum behind him, allowing Stryke the opportunity to push Spike chest first into the corner. “Nice counter by the former SWF USJL Champion!” Stryke gets to his feet, as Spike falls out of the corner. Spike turns towards Stryke, who meets him with a quick kick to the gut. Stryke pulls Spike into a front face lock. Stryke grabs a hold of Spike’s tights and lifts him straight up into the air, dropping down with an Implant DDT that drives Spike onto the top of his skull!!! “Implant DDT by Stryke that sends Spike right onto the top of his head! Beautiful!” “That may be enough to put Spike away!” Stryke sits up, and rolls Spike over onto his back as he makes a cocky cover. One! Two! Thre…NO! Spike kicks out! Stryke sits up; stunned that Spike can kick out of that. “How did he do that? That’s impossible!” “Spike is not willing to lose in his first match back.” “Screw that! Kick his ass Stryke!” Stryke gets up to his feet, and looks around the arena. Stryke uses his thumb to motion a slit across the throat. “It’s over now! Stryke is going for the Low End Theory!” “If Stryke hits his finisher that should be enough to keep Spike down!” Stryke reaches down, and grabs Spike by the hair. Stryke pulls the lifeless Spike up to his feet, and pulls him into the center of the ring. Stryke pulls Spike’s arm in between his legs, and sets up the pump handle position. Stryke locks his arm around Spike’s, and quickly pulls Spike up with the pump handle. But Spike is able to pull out of it, and lands behind Stryke on his feet! Spike quickly spins Stryke around. Spike wraps his arms around Stryke’s neck and dives forward, driving Stryke face first into the mat with The Bad Beat! ‘The Bad Beat! From out behind the Low End Theory!” “Where did that come from?” Spike quickly rolls Stryke over onto his back and covers him! One! Two! Three!! *Ding Ding Ding* “Spike wins at SWF Battleground!” “No!” “Spike with the return win over former USJL Champion, Stryke! The Bad Beat from out of nowhere counters the Low End Theory!” “Stryke had him beat!” “Apparently, not.” Hotwire’s “Not Today” starts up over the PA system, as Spike rolls out under the bottom rope to the outside of the ring. Spike slaps some hands with some fans, as he makes his way to the back. “Fan’s, we still have a lot left for you tonight. An Empty Arena match between Landon Maddix and Alan Clark, Last Man Standing match with Kibagami and Alex Zenon, and the Ladder match between Tom Flesher and Ann Onita. Plus five titles on the line, with the SWF World Title up for grabs as Charlie Matthews defend against John Duran!"

BOOOOM! With a flash and magnitude of sound, an eruption of sparks begins at the entrance way trench. Several small showers of sparks follow letting the fans know that they have indeed arrived at a battleground. The University Arena lights up with the opening pyro for SWF's Battleground! Every fan in the arena comes to their feet cheering! The sound is deafening as it manages to drown out Tool's "Schism". "Welcome citizens to SWF Battleground live from the University Arena in Albuquerque, New Mexico!" Cyclone yells over the fans. "Cycloooooooooone Comet here as always with my broadcast partner Bobby Riley. We've got a packed night with ten matches ahead of us including a hardcore match, an empty arena match, a ladder match, a three fall tag team match with three titles on the line, and of course the Heavyweight Title match!" "We're about to embark on an action packed few hours of SWF action. Our first match features the newcomer Austin Sly facing off against SWF's very own Insane Luchador in none other than a hardcore match." The fans finally begin to calm down. "While Sly has been on a roll since entering the federation just a few weeks back," Riley continues, "Rickmen seems to be his exact opposite dropping three of his last four matches. Rickmen might have an advantage coming into this match though as he's based his career around being a hardcore wrestler, and we've yet to see how Sly fairs in this environment." "This is an interesting situation indeed, Bobbo," Comet replies, "but I think I'm going to have to pick Citizen Rickmen to come out on top tonight. You can't argue with experience and that's exactly what Citizen Rickmen has. Having been in this sort of environment before, I can tell you that you can't come into matches like this unprepared, and I'm afraid that's exactly what Citizen Sly is, unprepared. I'm standing by my masked brother the Insane Luchador." "You seem to be forgetting that Austin isn't exactly a green rookie here. He's a 27 year old man after all," Riley argues back, "he's been in this business a long time and has probably been in his own fair share of hardcore encounters. I think I'm going to have to agree with you though and pick Rickman to come out on top tonight. He's due for another win sometime soon, and Sly is no Toxxic, that's for sure." "Is Toxxic the measure for every new wrestler that comes through SWF's gates now? I agree with everyone, the man has talent, but is it fair to everyone to be held to such a high standard?" Cyclone tries to pick apart Riley's statement. "And the be fair to Citizen Sly, how can you tell he's no Toxxic? He's only had two matches so far in the SWF; he could still have some untapped potential." "Who said wrestling was about being fair? This isn't children's soccer," Riley bickers back at Comet, "and not everyone can be a winner. The only way to get to the top in our business is to beat the best and be the best, and as far as the new breed of wrestlers that have joined the SWF within the last few months, Toxxic is the cream of the crop. I just don't see Austin beating Toxxic anytime soon... so I guess yes, I can tell he's no Toxxic. There's only room for one at the top you know." "I think it's a little impossible to say Citizen Toxxic is better than Citizen Sly without the two ever actually having faced off in the squared circle. We do know that Citizen Rickmen has faced and been defeated by Citizen Toxxic before," Comet plays the historian, "so maybe if Citizen Sly comes out of here with a win tonight then his next most logical move will be to face off with Citizen Toxxic." "Well I would say that a match between Toxxic and Sly isn't out of the picture, but I wouldn't say that it's in the near future. Give Sly a little time to work his way up to Toxxic maybe and the see how the two feel about it. Sly isn't even in the title picture yet and that's one thing Toxxic has proven that he can do," Riley replies, "compete and win the big matches with the gold on the line. Like I said though, let Sly work his way up to Toxxic, then we'll see what happens." Funyon takes this time to make his way into the ring. To mark the special occasion that Battleground always is, he wears a glitter covered camouflage tuxedo in the ring with special glitter battle helmet. He shifts his weight from the ball of his foot to his toes, rocking himself back and forth in the center of the ring waiting for the match to get underway. "Well we'll just have to see what happens as our match is about to get underway, Bobbo." Cyclone gets in the last word. Well I had just got back from a break from the fight, I was weighing in heavy but still feeling alright. "The Gauntlet" begins as black, red, green, and white pyros explode from the sides of the entrance stage. The Insane Luchador Andrew Rickmen emerges from the back. He pauses at the stage momentarily looking over the audience before raising his arms. He makes his decent into the trench as the fans begin chanting his name. "LUCH-A-DOR!" "LUCH-A-DOR!" "LUCH-A-DOR!" "The following match is a hardcore match and is scheduled for one fall," begins Funyon (shiny tux and all), "making his way to the ring from Easton, Pennsylvania weighing in at 201 pounds, Insane Luchadoooooooor!" Luchador arrives at ringside and quickly rolls under the bottom rope and into the center of the ring. "The Gauntlet" plays on as Rickmen climbs the corner turnbuckles and raises his arms again in a sort of salute to the fans. The fans salute him back by chanting his name again. "LUCH-A-DOR!" "LUCH-A-DOR!" "LUCH-A-DOR!" Rickmen climbs down from the corner as his music and fans both die down. He makes his way into the center of the ring, waiting for his opponent's presence. The entire arena is drenched in a cool, dark blue light as a hard driving acoustic guitar riff fills the air. Austin Sly comes strutting out of the back with an acoustic guitar in hand as the fans start booing his presence. He struts his way to the edge of the main stage before pausing to lift the guitar in the air and then bring it down to point at Rickmen in the ring. He stretches his neck and shoulders out as the lights in the arena start to swirl and fade back to their natural colors. "Making his way to the ring from St. Louis, Missouri weighing in at 230 pounds, Austin Slllyyyy!" Funyon yells over the boos before exiting the ring. Sly makes his way through the trench to the ring, but instead of climbing onto the ring like he normally does, he circles around it to the right, never unlocking his gaze from Rickmen inside the ring. He stops in the corner beside the announcers table and leans his guitar up against the wall before jumping on the ring apron. Instead of locking his arm around the top rope like he usually does though, he stands there and begins yelling at Luchador, taunting him. Luchador taunts him right back as he slowly walks towards him. The two have a heated exchange of words until they're standing face to face. Austin throws the first punch, but it's blocked. Rickmen quickly grabs hold of Austin and flips him over the top rope and into the ring. "I don't think that's quite what he was hoping for eh Bobbo?" Cyclone quips. "You've always had a knack for pointing out the obvious." Riley snaps back. DING DING DING Austin lands on his lower back, but bounces right back up and scurries his way across the ring where he latches himself onto the ring ropes to try and regain his composure. Rickmen comes charging in after him, but Austin shoots back to his feet and meets Luchador half way with a clothesline. Andrew bounces back up off the ring though as if it was actually a trampoline only to be sent back down with another clothesline. Austin reaches down to grab Andrew by his hair, but his hand gets shoved away as Rickmen sends a leg back behind him sending him down to the mat with a leg sweep. Andrew quickly jumps up and tries to lock on a front face lock, but Austin sends a couple elbows back into his side before reversing the move into a head lock, but this is countered too as Rickmen shoves Austin off of him and forward into the ropes. Austin latches on to them again to pause the match as Rickmen also tries to regain his composure. The fans give a slight cheer to the two men for the grappling exhibition. You can see both men are taking this time to plan their next move (and the move after that) while still not taking their eyes off of each other. "Oh the tension," quips Comet. Rickmen tries to charge Austin again, but he slides out of the ring beneath the bottom rope. The ever vigilant Rickmen follows him out though with a baseball slide out of the ring and into the back of his opponent, sending him down. Sly, however, knows better than to leave himself open and unprotected and quickly climbs back to his feet and takes a defensive stance against the potential onslaught from Rickmen. Both men come out swinging with right hook after right hook, neither man giving an inch, but eventually the size and strength advantage works to Sly's favor as Rickmen starts to reel back. Austin takes advantage as he sends a knee into Andrew's gut before latching hold of his arm and sending him running towards the ring steps with an Irish whip. Rickmen is prepared for it though as he manages to slow himself enough to jump onto the top of the ring steps. Sly closes in a little, not knowing what to expect, but this proves to be a mistake as Luchador jumps back with a moonsault that takes both men down momentarily. This garners a reaction from the crowd as a long "Ohhhh" fills the arena. "We're not wasting any time getting into the hard hitting here," Riley comments. "It looks like that took the wind out of Andrew and Austin as both men are down, but they're already working their way back to their feet." Rickmen makes it back to his feet first as Austin is still only on one knee. Rickmen uses this opportunity to look for a weapon, going under the ring searching. He quickly emerges with a steel-folding chair in hand. Austin has moved away from the spot where Rickmen expected to find him though. Andrew glances about ringside quickly before he finds him exactly where he doesn't want to find him, on the ringside. Before Luchador even has a chance to react, Sly comes flying off the apron with a spinning heel kick that sends the chair surges backwards into the face of Luchador. This gets another "Ohhhh" reaction from the crowd. Sly quickly removes the chair from the possession of Rickmen by tossing it into the ring. But as soon as he's turned his attention back to Rickmen, the man has already made his way back to his feet. A little unstable, but still back on his feet. Austin tries to take a swing at the stumbling Luchador, but it's blocked. Andrew returns fire with a stiff right hook that sends Austin stumbling back a slight ways. Austin doesn't let one failed attempt slow him down though, as he comes back swinging only to get his punch blocked and receive retaliation again. This time though, Austin does not come back swinging as Andrew takes control and sends right hook after right hook to Austin's face, sending him back peddling toward the ring guard wall eventually driving him back first into it. Rickmen pounds on Austin for a few seconds longer before backing away and turning to lift his fist to the audience and acknowledge their cheers and of course garner another cheap pop for even acknowledging the fans. "Citizen Rickmen is showing what kind of a class act right here by acknowledging his fans," Comet interjects. "Hardly a class act," Riley replies, "he's just milking the attention." Andrew comes in planning to clothesline Austin into the crowd, but instead he's met with a shoulder block to his stomach as Austin begins to try and fight back into the match. Austin sends his shoulder into the midsection of Luchador once again causing him to double over from the sharp pain. Sly quickly circles his opponent before grabbing onto his arm and sending him back inside the ring. Rickmen rolls into the center of the ring before grabbing at his stomach and rolling onto his side. Austin uses this time as he lifts the ring apron and goes searching under the ring. "He's like a kid looking for a toy in the bottom of the cereal box. Look at him go." Riley comments. Austin keeps searching under the ring until he finally re-emerges with a table! He takes his time and sets it up outside the ring about half way between the ring apron and the fan guard wall. He then turns his attention back into the ring where Rickmen has climbed back to his feet. Austin slowly climbs back onto the ring apron, eyes locked with Andrew's, before climbing through the middle ropes with caution. Austin lurks forward, trying not to come close enough to Luchadore to be grabbed, but still trying to get close enough to grab Luchadore. Rickmen makes his move suddenly catching Austin off guard with a kick to his midsection. Austin doubles over before being brought down to the mat with a quick DDT and pin attempt. One! Two! Kick out! "He caught him by surprise there but I'm shocked that he got a two count from a DDT!" Riley states. Austin doesn't climb back to his feet but instead just scoots himself away from Rickmen and toward the ropes. Andrew doesn't seem to notice though as he goes to retrieve the chair from across the ring. Luchador doesn't use it as a weapon at this moment though as he unfolds it and sets it up in the corner opposite corner of the ring before returning his attention to Sly whom is leaning on the ropes. Rickmen starts to walk across the ring but before he can even make it half way to Austin he gets floored with a clothesline by his surging opponent. Sly quickly pulls Luchadore back to his feet before shoving him into the ropes closest to the table. Austin remains latched to Luchador at the wrist before sending him across the ring with an Irish whip. Luchador flies into the opposing ropes and comes bouncing back off making a direct path toward Sly. Sly bends over in preparation for a back body drop to send Luchador over the ropes, but Rickmen sees this and instead slides down onto his knees and uppercuts Austin, sending him reeling back into the ropes. "That was a close one for Citizen Rickmen. I don't know how many more of those he can pull off." Cyclone comments. Andrew keeps throwing right hand after right hand to Austin's face, keeping him against the ropes. The fans counting along with each punch thrown. "One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Six! Seven!" Andrew finally pulls his opponent off the ropes and sends him flying toward the other side of the ring with a quick Irish whip. Austin comes bouncing off the ropes toward Rickmen, who is bent over prepared for a back body drop. Austin is prepared for this though as he puts on the brakes and instead sets Luchador up for the Earthquake! "This could be it! Citizen Sly can win it right here if he hits this!" Cyclone yells. "I bet Insane Luchador didn't see that coming huh?" Riley snidely replies. "It's not over yet, Bobbo." Cyclone seems assured with himself. Austin brings Andrew up to a power bomb position, but Andrew uses his momentum to flip over Austin and actually pull him down for a pin attempt. One! Kick out before two! Both men quickly climb to their feet. Austin takes the first swing trying to connect with a hard right hand, but Luchador quickly ducks it. Austin quickly spins back around to face his opponent, but Luchador was already ready for him as he sends a foot to his gut. Luchador continues sending kick after kick to the midsection of Sly until he has him backed to the ropes. Luchador quickly whips Austin across the ring, but follows him across the ring too. Sly tries to jump on the middle rope to hit a springboard dropkick, but instead he receives a shove from behind that sends him over the top rope and through the table he had set up a few minutes prior! "Ho-ly shit!" "Ho-ly shit!" "Ho-ly shit!" "Austin went down hard! He should be out of it here!" Riley yells. Andrew stands in the ring for a second as the referee runs past him and out of the ring to check on Sly. "I don't know if Austin is even going to get up after that." Luchador climbs out of the ring and hops down off the apron where Austin is grasping at the wall trying to pull himself up, but failing miserably. Luchador slowly walks to beside Austin, but instead of pinning him, he looks around the arena as the fans begin to chant his name. "Luch-a-dor!" "Luch-a-dor!" "Luch-a-dor!" Rickmen looks down at his opponent that is now pulling at the leg of his pants, trying to pull himself up. Andrew reaches down and grabs a fistful of Austin's hair before pulling him up to his knees and then to a full standing position by it. Rickmen lets go of the lock of hair and Austin stumbles a little before falling back on the fan guard wall behind him. Sly shakes his head, flopping the hair back from his eyes. "Hit me," he says, "come on Luchador. Hit me. Finish the job." Rickmen reels back his fist before looking around the arena. The fans chant his name. He knows what they want... they want to see blood. "Luch-a-dor!" "Luch-a-dor!" "Luch-a-dor!" Rickmen's fist is still drawn back, seemingly paused in time. He looks at his opponent one last time before he straightens his arm out and clotheslines him over the wall and into the crowd. Austin slinks over the wall before smacking the ground with a thud. He seems to have lost all of his energy after going through the table, and Rickmen knows this and feels firmly in control of the match. Security scrambles to the scene from near by, clearing a spot in the crowd. "Watch out citizens! Looks like our match is spilling out into the crowd." Cyclone seems generally concerned about the audience members. Austin slowly struggles his way back to his feet, but he gets sent reeling from a shot to the face from Luchador. Sly grabs at his face as he walks trying to protect it. Luchador stalks him though, sending another right hand to his face anytime he turns back around to check for his pursuer. The two eventually make it to the cleared pathway between the bleacher and floor seats. Austin stands slightly in front of Andrew, stumbling to keep his balance. Luchador looks at the floor around him, searching for anything that can be used at a weapon. What he finds is an empty beer bottle. "What's does he have there? Is that a beer bottle?" Riley asks. As Austin stumbles around, Rickmen turns the bottle sideways and takes a running start. The bottle makes direct contact with the Sly's forehead, shattering the bottle and sending Sly down hard once again. Austin rolls onto his stomach and grabs his forehead. "Look at what Rickmen has done! Look at it Cyclone! Not such a great guy now is he? He just busted a beer bottle on Austin's forehead!" Riley yells, appalled. "In desperate times, you do desperate things." Cyclone calmly replies. "So you approve of this carnage?" Riley replies, still appalled. Luchador looks at his hand, only to find the neck of the bottle left. He tosses it down to the ground before turning his attention back to his opponent who is still laying on the ground clutching his head. Rickmen walks over and grabs the back of Austin's hair, pulling him up again. Not to the surprise of anyone on hand, Sly now has a steady stream of blood oozing out of his forehead. Austin has even more trouble standing now that he is loosing blood. Rickmen wants to get out of the audience though, so he drags Austin beside him by the hair leading him toward the stage. The two cut through the crowd and shortly have made their way to another crowd guard. Rickmen just tosses Austin freely over the top of it this time though. Austin continues to grab at his forehead trying to stop the bleeding while Rickmen climbs over the wall. Andrew approaches Sly fairly non-chalant knowing that the match is his to win now. Much to his surprise though, Austin comes out swinging. One! Two! Three! "Austin is trying to rally here!" Riley seems excited. "Why hasn't Citizen Rickmen just pinned him yet?" ... Austin only gets three punches in before he's stopped with a knee to the gut that sends him down to one knee. "... And he's been stopped." Disappointment settles back in on Riley. Rickmen wastes no time as he quickly drags Austin up and onto the stage. Crates and barbwire litter the area... the perfect setting for a hardcore match. Rickmen drags his opponent to a part of the stage with a bundle of barbed wire. He brings Austin around to in front of him where he quickly falls to one knee in his weakened state. Luchador looks around the arena once again. Everyone knows what's coming up here. The fans begin chanting his name again. "Luch-a-dor!" "Luch-a-dor!" "Luch-a-dor!" Andrew grabs the back of Austin's head as he prepares to set him up for a power bomb. Before Rickmen has the chance though, he's surprised with a low blow. Luchador turns away and hops in a little circle, trying to distract himself from the pain. It only gets worse for him though as Austin thrusts his shoulder into his stomach. Sly quickly scoops his opponent up on his should before twisting his own body around toward the barbed wire and delivering a spinebuster onto the bundle. Sly then collapses onto the stage. "Both men are down!" Riley yells. Luchador quickly pulls himself up and off of the wire, but the damage has been done as blood now leaks out of his back from several small holes that were bore into his back from the spikes on the barbed wire. He reaches around to feel his back, only to bring a hand covered in blood back as proof of the damage. Austin has got a second wind now though, as he climbs to his feet to meet Andrew eye to eye. Sly makes the first move sending a stiff kick into the stomach of his opponent. Austin quickly grabs up one of the smaller boxes and brings it down across Rickmen's back. Luchador shoots back to an upright position from the pain and stumbles forward into the trench. Sly follows him down. As the two get closer to the ring, Andrew turns around to try and take a swing, but Sly blocks it and delivers a right hand of his knocking Rickmen into the ring apron. "They're heading back into the ring. Hopefully this match will be over soon before anyone gets anymore hurt." Cyclone comments, once again concerned. Austin grabs Andrew by the waist of his pants and rolls him into the ring, following him in shortly there after. Austin quickly whips Andrew into the corner. Austin's face is now covered in blood as he looks around the ring, confused by his surroundings. He quickly makes his way to the corner where a steel chair had been set up earlier in the match. He grabs the chair and moves it to the corner where Andrew is now leaning. Austin folds the chair back flat before laying it on the campus a few feet out from the corner ring post. Sly grabs hold of Luchador's head and locks him in a DDT-like position. "What's he doing here?" Austin pulls Luchador away from the ropes some before turning both of them around so this his own back would be facing the corner turnbuckles. "Don't do this!" Austin climbs to the second turnbuckle. "No!" Austin jumps off the turnbuckle keeping Luchador's head firmly locked in place. Sly uses his weight and momentum to turn around Luchadore in air and bring his head crashing down onto the folded chair! Rickmen bounces off the chair at a sharp angle before rolling over onto his back. "Citizen Sly just tornado DDT-ed Citizen Rickmen onto that steel chair from the middle turnbuckle! This match has got to be over!" Cyclone comments throughout the move. Austin lays on the mat for a second regaining his breath. He slowly pulls himself onto his hands and knees before crawling over to cover Luchadore. One! Two! Thre no! Rickmen lifts his shoulder up! Austin shoots to his knees and grabs the hair on the side of his head in disbelief! Sly quickly scoops up the chair before he begins yelling at Luchadore. "Get up! Get up you pussy! Get on your feet!" Luchadore slowly struggles back up to his feet with Austin being careful to stay behind him. Andrew tries to retain his balance, but it's of no use as Austin comes running in and delivers a chair shot to his bleeding back. Luchadore collapses down to his knees, reeling in pain. Austin backs up a little before running in and clocking Luchadore in the back with yet another chair shot, this time knocking him back down flat on the mat. "Just pin him and get the match over with!" Cyclone yells! Austin, however, doesn't seem to think that enough damage has been dealt as he continues to send chair shot after chair shot to Luchador's back. One! Two! Three! Four! Austin finally throws the blood-covered chair away from himself. Sly falls to his knees before rolling Andrew over onto his back to pin him. One! Two! Three! "Austin Sly picks up another win with a stunning victory over the Insane Luchador in Luchador's own hardcore environment! This man has some talent!" Riley seems ecstatic. Austin rolls over off of Rickmen and onto his own back. "It was an impressive match from both men. I don't think this is the last time we'll see these two meet either!" Cyclone replies. Austin slowly works his way back to his feet, using the ring ropes to pull himself up. "On to bigger and better things, Cyclone... bigger and better things..." Riley echoes. Austin raises his right arm in a show of victory before climbing his way out of the ring. The fans, however, boo him out of the arena.

Card: WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE BOUT SINGLES MATCH Charlie "Grappler" Matthews© vs "The Notorious" John Duran What is there to say, really? A match made in the JL is one that's been built to for almost two months. As it was when he lead the Urban Decay, John Duran feels he's ready to take the belt he was groomed for from the undeserving, inappropriate champion. Though a serious competitor and a man who lives and breathes the business, Grappler is almost the very antithesis of John Duran. Tonight, once and for all, they're going to resolve the question of who's the better the man... and who's the one, true, deserving champion. Let's rock. LADDER MATCH Ann "Ichiban" Onita vs "The Superior One" Tom Flesher Blood is thicker than water. Time heals all things, except time itself. Two cliches define this match, with two very real meanings. The history between Ann Onita and Tom Flesher is deep and documented--they've faced dozens of times, as allies, as enemies... but all those times, Flesher was in command, and control. Ann was striving valiantly to knock Tom off his perch and speed or realize her climb to the top of the mountain. This time... things are different. And this time, perhaps the most precious prize of all hangs in the balance: Ann's own sister, Allison. To quote another cliche... it's all or nothing, this time. LAST MAN STANDING MATCH Nathaniel Kibagami vs Alex Zenon Hate. It's a strong word. It's one of the core human emotions. But very few times has it been so real. Alexander Zenon hates Nathaniel Kibagami every fiber of his being, and he blames him for everything that's gone so wrong in his life since he first left the SWF in mid-2002. It is hard to ignore such passion, doubly so when Alex has the power of the commissioner's office. The irony, perhaps, are the parralel lines. Alex's bitter, vicious hate... is the one so similar to that which tore apart Kibagami as he hunted down Edwin MacPhisto. Alex may or may not realize this, but he probably doesn't care. All that matters is that Kibagami may be gone by the end of this. Come hell or high water, and if it takes down Alex, too. ICTV/TAG TEAM/HARDCORE TITLE BOUT TRIPLE QUADRUPLE MATCH Wild & Dangerous© vs The In Crowd vs Aecas and Janus© vs Toxxic© and Liston You know what? Forget the dramatic prose for a minute. There's SO much shit between these eight guys going on here, I can't even begin to explain it all for you. I mean, I probably could, but it'd take about two pages. So I'm just going to say this match is the result of about a million different possible permutations and three titles that I couldn't book properly without double booking about four different people, so you get this menagre. Look at it this way: Though it LOOKS impossible, if you do it well, you may very well have the match of the night. USJL TITLE BOUT SINGLES MATCH Coy "Wild" West© vs Todd Royal There's a lot of change in the air around Coy, and it's not just the fact he's decided to shower more frequently. He's more seriously, more focused, and more determined than ever. And for the last little while, his sights have been squared on Todd Royal, the man who believes he doesn't JUST have god on his side... he IS god. And with Coy recently recapturing the USJL title, can Royal achieve what he feels is divine right? EMPTY ARENA MATCH Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix vs Alan Clark Emptiness. It's a theme Alan Clark has felt the need to reiterate lately. Landon Maddix is... empty. Extinguished. A dead man walking. Clark is boisterous; a man who's fire burns and conviction stays strong. His fire is to defeat Landon Maddix, his conviction is that it has been a long time coming. Clark may not have his cruiserweight title to lay on the line here anymore, but he still has his pride, and his eternal drive to defeat Landon Maddix. And to La Cucaracha, this should be most concerning: After all, it has been a long time since he has been able to accomplish the same feat in reverse. SINGLES MATCH Edward James vs Crow Eddie J has been a little... well, no, a LOT lost lately. The returning Antichrist Superstar hasn't looked so hot, either. They face on teh really big sheeeeeeeeeeew to try and turn things around. SINGLES MATCH "La Sensation Senegalaise" Said vs Tryst FEINDS BEWARE! That is Tryst's rallying battle cry these days, and what better fiend to start off with than Said and his even more fiendish managers? Tryst has been in a bit of a cold snap lately (including an, um, interesting last match), and could nix that with a triumphant victory over fiendish villains at Battleground! SINGLES MATCH Stryke vs "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins A random match? Balderdash! There is much storied history between these two, dating back to... and including... also... uh... um... er, look, I just forgot to book Stryke and I forgot that Spike PMed me, okay? These two only have a few certain habbits in common. HARDCORE MATCH Austin Sly vs Insane Luchadore And we kick of Battleground the best way we know how: Screaming! Hey, why mess with a good thing? Relative newbie Austin Sly faces off against the wily veteran "Insane Luchadore" Andrew Rickmen in a good old fashioned passioned ass whuppin' hardcore match. What else is there to say, really?

So, everyone please remind me of this: The next time I book a sprawling, ridiculous multi-man with stipulations that haven't been attempted before, and put it on PPV, where there's no word limit, let me not do the honourable thing and have myself mark it, huh? Thank god I marked the world title match first. Ugh. -Z

Mak, that's the closest Spike will ever get to fucking anything. I'd let him have his fantasies. PS - It's good to see you again. PPS - Flyers still suck. LeClair still sucks. You're fucking lucky they're facing the Leafs again this round, bah. -Z

"Many trees move. He is approaching. Many obstacles in thick grass. He is misleading us. Birds rise up. He is concealing himself. Animals are startled. He is launching a total assault." -Chapter 9 of the Sun Tzu -- The faint hiss from the tap. The quiet splash as he ran his hands through it. The cool, enveloping sensation of submerging his fingers. The clear, clean purity. Water soothed and brought life. But not to him. Tiredly, Alex Zenon runs his wet hands over his face in an attempt to collect himself. This is a scene not so unfamiliar to him, standing over a sink in a bathroom, washing his face... and watching his life circle the drain. Then, almost two years ago, it was the blue resisude of his hair dye, the last time he would ever wear it. Now, though, there is nothing in the water. Only the bottom of the sink can be seen through it, and somehow... it is symbolic. He looks into the mirror. That blue hair he once had is long gone, and everything it meant went with it. His hair is still long, but thin, stringy and brown. It has not been tended to in weeks. That silly, happy-go-lucky expression he perpetually had has wasted away, replaced by a sad grimace. He hasn't shaved in days. The vibrant green eyes that once once reflected all his enthusiasm, even naivity, towards doing what he loved, are dulled, reddened, and surrounded by dark circles. Why? How did it come to this? What had he become? It was not what he had wanted. It was not what he intended... no, it was what he was forced to do. Fate had conspired against him; turned him bitter and jaded. It was not his fault that Edwin and Raynor were gone, turned to nothing more than memories watery as the liquid below him. It was not his fault he failed in the past. It was not his fault he couldn't continue. It was not on him that things had become as they are. Kibagami had done this. Yes... Kibagami. His wretched thirst for vengeance had torn everything apart, driven them all away, and ruined everything for him. He had a chance to set it right, once, a year ago... but did he not fail there? No. Kibagami failed him. He still considered him a child. Nathaniel would not concern himself with him. He was so more focused on Angel... whom he did not deserve. The love that had never earned. Fittingly, though it was not at Alex's hand, he did lose her. He lost himself, slipped into addiction and wasted away. He could've been happy with that, Alex. Truly, the seeds of that fate had been sewn for Kibagami long ago. And yet, they prepare to face at Battleground, a year later. The most sickening of sins has been commited... Kibagami has been given another chance. How did this happen? How did this happen? So perfectly timed for Alex's return to this three-ring circus that he loved and hated so much. He is decieving them all, Kibagami. Misleading them. It cannot stand. He cannot stand. Nathaniel must fall. It is Nathaniel's fault. Nathaniel's. It is Nathaniel's fate. The failure's do not matter. The past does not matter. It is only the here and the now that matters; Alex's redemption and Kibagami's end. And everything will be washed away like with this water... they will circle the drain. Alex shuts off the tap. Circle... Circle... Circle... ...until there's nothing left. ~FIN

From the cold, clinging chill of Iowa to the endless sun and perpetual warmth of California, the SWF's travel schedule could catch even the most veteran members of the federation's staff by surprise. But a jarring trip from the dull midwest to the brightly coloured neon distraction of Cali was not an unwelcome one. Long beaches of glittering golden sand, fast cars, fast women, red hot temperatures and red reflections of firey sunsets on the gentle waves of the ocean. Everyone loved California. "I hate this fucking place," snarls Alex Zenon, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the collar of his white shirt from within what will be used as his office inside the Arena in Oakland. Even within the enormous concrete structure, Zenon can still feel the infernal heat. A New Jersey boy thorugh-and-through, it's almost impossible for him to comprehend THESE tempratures at THIS time of year. Trying his best to block it out of his mind, Zenon returns his attention to the files set up on his makeshift desk. Match contracts, medical reviews, copies of the staium rental forms, a few letters from White Apple and Noble Gas television... nothing unusual, but never the less another daunting pile of paper that must be waded through before the day is out. Zenon knows what he needs to do, and yet... he finds himself drifting back to that one folder, that one file, that one little piece of paper. Tiredly reaching out for a dossier and opening it, Zenon pulls a contract out from within, and sighs. That's all it is, really. Nothing more than a single, thin print of paper. But it might as well be made out of stone, because it is unbreakable. Untearable. Unbearable. Sadly, almost with a kind of regret, Alex's eyes drift to the matching scrawl at the bottom of the document. Next to Nathaniel Kibagami's unusually neat, simple and clean signature is Mark Stevens' impressive, wavy autograph. To think all that stops him is a miniscule amount of ink is just... **knock knock** The sound of someone knocking on the door frame of Alex's office snaps him out of his moping. Miserably, the commissioner turns on his heel and murmurs, "What is... oh." He pauses upon making eye contact with an unmistakable Asian face. "Annie..." With half-grin on her face, Ann Onita greets Zenon with a, "Hey, Alex." "I... I--come in! Sit down! I didn't think anyone would be here today," says Alex, trying to sound as friendly as possible while brushing a few folders off the long chair facing his desk. "Mainly because I didn't think anyone really knew I was here, heh." "Well, I called your secretary," Ann begins, as she steps inside the tiny office and takes a seat. "She told me that you'd be in here for what's left of the day, so I figured I'd drop by. Cute redhead, by the way. Nice choice," adds Onita with a wink. "Well, she's really Mark's secretary," Alex replies, leaning against his desk. "I don't he was really interested in her looks when he picked her out or whatever--more like... typing ability." Ann raises an eyebrow at Alex, who decides it may be best to change the topic. "Anyway! What do you want, Annie?" "Awww... can't an old friend drop by and say hi to someone she hasn't seen in months?" Alex pauses for a moment, and takes good, long look into Ann's eyes. She gives him a confused look as his face softens a little, and then... Alex sighs and shakes his head. "No. No, you can't... that's not what you want. I can tell." Ann blinks at Zenon's speech, and then shrugs. "Alex, that's not... really true. I've never come to the commissioner asking for anything in my career. Stubby, King, Mark; it hasn't mattered." Ann smirks. "I'm the hardcore queen, boy. The only help I've needed with my problems are through a steel chair or a wooden cane." Alex's demeanour lightens again, seemingly genuinely believing Ichiban's words. "Alright, Annie. But you have to be here for something." Onita pauses, and then inspects the floor for a few minutes. "Yeah, well... this isn't really my problem, y'see. It's about Allison, Z." Alex flinches at being called "Z," but he tries to ignore it. "Your twin sister, right?" "Yeah," Ann nods. "Look, it's just... you know, it's just watching her. She's getting too close to Flesher, Alex; it bothers me. I mean, surely you've noticed..." Alex nods as Ann trails off. "Yeah, alright. So are you worried about how that could interfere with you?" "What?" mouths Annie, taken aback. "Hell no, Alex! Gods, why would I be worried about what my sister could do to me? I'm worried about what Tom could do to her! You know that bastard's a lying, slimy, manipulative..." Ann regains her composure, trailing off. "What I mean is, you saw what he did to me on Lockdown. You know what he's done in the past. Hell, Alex, you might know Tom's ins and outs better than anyone besides Frost." Alex mutters something... uncivil under his breath at the memtion of Frost's name, getting a light chuckle from Annie. She continues, "Anyway, what I want your help with is... keep Allison away from Tom. Well, actually, keep Tom away from Allison until I can figure out some way to show her that he's creep through and through." Zenon's face falls as Annie says this, and he scratches the side of his head irritably. "Like do what, exactly?" sighs Alex. "It's not like I can put a restraining order on Tom or something." "No, but you can handcuff him!" shouts Ann. "You can't stop him from getting close to her outside the arena, but within the shows... you could put him on probation. Tell him to keep on the other side of the arena, or get tossed out! You could threaten to have his match results thrown out if he gets near her! Trust me, Alex, I can keep an eye on Ali, and--" "Annie," Alex grumbles, now sitting in his desk chair and propping up his head with his hand. "That's ridiculous." "Not it's NOT," pleads Onita. "Tom has a plot, Alex, and it INCLUDES swallowing up Ali whole! She's... she's a little naive, Alex, and Tom knows it. She's going to get hurt, and I need to do everything I can to stop it!" "Uh-huh," drones Alex. "And exactly what evidence do you have of ANY of this? Wildchild could live on the top rope for months and still not get as many cheers as Tom's gotten since Genesis. Yeah, so he's been a dick lately, but he's oozing self-confidence. He always has. What the hell is there to suggest he's going back to the guy who headed up the M7?" "Oh, I dunno," Ann begins, acidic sarcasm dripping off her words, "Maybe the fact he WALKED OUT ON HIS PARTNER LAST SHOW DURING A TAG TITLE MATCH? Maybe the fact he left me in to get kicked around for the WHOLE thing? The fact he wouldn't so much as try to let me tag out!?" Ann screams, holding up her hands. She breathes heavily for a few moments, before something dawns on her. "Alex, you... you booked that goddamn match, didn't you?" "Yeah, I did," Alex starts, leaning back and folding his arms. "On the advice of your sister, no less." "WHAT!?" "She came in to talk to me after Storm, and she told me that she had already talked to Tom, and he was perfectly willing to let that one loss slide and try another tag match, preferably for higher stakes. She said that you were harbouring some petty resentment to Tom from the past. She didn't know why, but she knew that was sometimes your nature, and you'd probably get hot about it and make sure she wouldn't be able to ask me for this. She said that Tom was 'very cordial' and willing to work through the fact you let him get pinned in the last match. She said that eventually you'd come around, and work together to make big waves." Gripping the ends of her armrests, Ann seethes with anger. The fact that her sister had... and that Tom could... taking a deep breath, Annie opens her mouth to speak. Very carefully. "And. Alex. You took her word... and didn't tell me anything... knowing FULL WELL that Tom and I were vicious enemies in the past?" "I've seen nothing to suggest that Tom is reverting." Annie twitches. "That... is... such bullshit! Goddamn it, Alex! I... I don't BELIEVE THIS! I can't believe you let... that Tom's let... ARGH!" Ann slams her hands into the chair, and faces Alex with a desperate expression. "You know Tom, Alex. You know what he does... how can you be so blind? Have you let Kibagami completely consume you?"Alex's eyes narrow as Onita continues. "Fuck, Alex, I'd even trust Kibagami with Ali before I'd let Tom get to her!" "Now THAT is bullshit!" Alex snaps. "Kibagami would've run through your sister the first chance he got, if he could've been fucking bothered. I know Kibagami, and I know Tom, and I know you, Annie. You want Tom neutralized, and there's no two ways about that! You hate Tom, and Tom is getting in the way of what you're owed..." Ann opens her mouth to protest, but Alex cuts her short. "I have the fucking papers right here from Stevens, so don't bother trying to argue. If you can get by Tom, you've got clear sailing into that main event slot you could never get to, and the world title that's been LIGHTYEARS away from your grasp!" "But Alex--" "NO!" booms Zenon, jumping out of his chair. "None of this 'but Alex' shit! You think that I'm going to swat down the winningest man in SWF history for you? You think I'm going to push aside the biggest star we may have EVER had just because we were in some shitty, two-bit, 'couldn't get fuckall accomplished' mockery of the Midnight Carnival together? Or because you scored some cheapass victory over that Maori dickhead and think that's worth it!?" "Alex, I--" "I have a set of verbally sickening, pysically fellating prima-donnas telling me they're the best group in this fed and deserve all the accolades I can give them, and some shallow, pretentious straight-edge cocksucker saying I'm getting in his way because his ass got jobbed to the same seven foot schitzophrenic FREAK who's telling me to watch where I step or loose my whole fucking foot and a drugged up, strung out, fucking psychotic lunatic ALL breathing down my neck and telling me how to run this fucking railroad!! I have given them NO FUCKING QUARTER and you expect me to give you some kind of assinine special treatment on grounds you can't even BEGIN to motherfucking justify because... we're friends?" "..." "NEWSFLASH!!" Alex screams. "EDWIN MAC-FUCKING-PHISTO COULD WALK THROUGH MY DOOR, DEMAND A TITLE SHOT... and you know what? I think I'd tell him to fuck off!!" Alex pauses, breathing raggedly, and then gives Annie a scornful expression. "And... and what do you figure I'm going to say to you, huh?" Ann remains deathly quiet, rather shocked by Zenon's outburst. Running a hand through his hair, he drops back into his seat, trembling with anger. Onita shakes her head, and spits out, "So that's how it is, eh, Alex?" Obviously frustrated and angry at Alex, she sighs and asks, "Just tell me one thing, then. Why in the gods name are you taking my sister's words over mine, Zenon?" Alex raises up his head, strands of hair draped over his eyes. "Because... Allison has nothing to gain." "I see," Ann says, quietly. With a sad, angry look, she stands up and stares at Alex. "I still don't think Tom's changed... but you have, Alex." "Yeah," murmus Alex, nodding slighty. "Yeah... leave, Annie. Just get out." And without one more word, Ann Onita turns and walks out of the office of the interim commissioner. Unremorseful, unapologetic, and unbashedly, his eyes follow Annie out of the room... and then settle back down onto the contract that he'd been so fixated with before she came. Back down to those two names. ~FIN

Mm, gooey, peanut buttery build between two whole-weat slices of monologue. Good promo, sez I, although I think it puts the ultimate conclusion of what happens at Battleground further away from doubt. One thing interesting, though... ...is that. That's a fascinating part of the angle that hasn't been brought up until now, and adds a bit more of a jagged edge to everything. I think you should do a little more with this and explore Ann's mindset on the fact without her sister, there really is no-one else. The lone wolf is the lonely wolf, but this is one that's been surrounded by people almost her entire career. -Z

(And now we flash back to the summer of love. August 19th, 2002! Three weeks earlier, Z challanged The Silent One to a hardcore match, much to the chagrin of Midnight Carnival leader Edwin MacPhisto. He lost, in relatively brutal fashion. Thoroughly convinced that Z was not worth his time and continuing his tunnel-vision like focus on MacPhisto, the world champion, Z felt duty called him to intervene and attempt to stop Silent from driving his leader and mentor towards the edge of a mental breakdown. In true Carnie fashion, he'd repaint Silent's $300,000 Diablo in order to goad him into a rematch. A cage match with no way out. No help to come to the rescue, and no escape for Z... the results are below. Enjoy.) The camera focuses ominously on the fifteen-foot tall steel cage that surrounds the ring as the relentlessly cheery sounds of Faith No More’s “Epic” begin to blast their way into the Kemper Arena. “Welcome back to SWF Smarkdown, ladies and gentlemen!” yells Mark Stevens over the cheers of the Missouri crowd as the one-letter wonder, Z, emerges from the backstage area into the single spotlight at the top of the entrance ramp. The blue-haired Carnie shuffles his way down the ramp, a rather uncomfortable-looking smile on his face, as Funyon announces his entrance… “Ladies and gentlemen, the following match will be a cage match! Pinfalls, submissions, knockouts, and disqualifications do not count; the only way to win the match is by climbing over the cage and putting both feet on the floor before your opponent! Introducing first, he hails from Trenton, New Jersey, and weighs in at two hundred and twenty-nine pounds…he is representing the Midnight Carnival….ZEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” Alex Zenon bounces up the steel steps at ringside to the door of the cage. Before he enters, he does a quick pirouette on his heel, bangs off his trademark salute to the crowd, and steps through the ropes, into the cage. He walks briskly to the opposite corner, stopping in the center of the ring to bang off another pirouette and salute to a tremendous pop from the crowd, and curls up in the corner, waiting on the arrival of the Slaughterer. “This match was signed just after Storm, when Z took it upon himself to challenge the Silent One to a cage match by…by…Lord, I hesitate to say it…” ”I’ll say it, Bobbi. He spray painted Silent’s Diablo.” ”God, what an idiot. He’ll get what’s coming to him, though, once Silent gets out here…” The arena’s lights are abruptly cut off, and the spotlights near the entrance ramp begin to flicker rapidly as Front Line Assembly’s “Retribution (Front 242 Remix)” begins pulsing through the sound system. The Kansas City fans boo resoundingly as white fog begins to billow out from behind the curtain at the top of the ramp, and the Chinese character for “Retribution” flashes on the Smarkstron, towering over the steel cage that surrounds the ring… “Introducing second, he hails from Phoenix, Arizona, and weighs in at two hundred and forty-eight pounds…he is representing the Clan…SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILENT!” ”Retribution” hits a particularly screeching pitch as the Silent One enters through the fog, cane in his right hand, trenchcoat billowing behind him, pulling wisps of white fog along with it. The Slaughterer makes his way –slowly- to ringside, eying the steel cage surrounding his opponent with an uncharacteristic glee. Silent removes his coat and hands it, along with his cane, to Eddy Long at ringside before climbing the steps to the door of the cage. The Clansman stares at Z, who rises to his feet at the sight of his opponent, for a long moment…and steps through the ropes. **DING DING** ”And here we go!” shouts ‘Grand Slam’, as Eddy Long closes the door behind Silent. The referee locks the door with a feeble *click* as the Slaughterer leisurely walks to the center of the ring. Z grabs hold of the ropes with nervous anticipation…he looks at Silent, then at the cage…Silent, then the cage…Silent…cage…Silent…cage…. … … Z turns his back on the Silent One and begins scrambling up the side of the cage! “Z’s trying to end this match early on!” says Stevens, doing his best to suppress a rather unprofessional giggle. “Mark, tell me you aren’t serious. Z’s frickin’ scared of Silent, and with a good reason, too! Did you SEE what happened to the Diablo before Storm?” ”I did, Bobbi…heh…it’s a terrible…heh heh….thing to see…” The Kemper Arena is evenly divided between laughter and cheers as the blue-haired one frantically claws his way up the steel as Silent charges towards him…only to be stopped by a ferocious forearm shot to his exposed back! Silent hammers away on his Carnie opponent, driving forearm after forearm into Z’s ribs, bringing him down from the side of cage. A particularly hard shot causes Z to fall awkwardly into a sitting position, landing BUTT-first on the ropes, his legs dangling between the apron and the cage. An aggravated Silent One attempts to pull Z from the ropes, but the one-letter wonder latches onto the cage with a Greco-Roman White-Knuckle Grip, yelling various colorful phrases as Silent hammers away on his back and ribs once again. The ring mics pick up snatches of the conversation between the two men… “Urgh…get…off…of there…and take…what’s coming…to you, boy!” “Ow, ow! No! OW! CHEQUE, PLEASE!” Silent releases his grip on Z’s waist…and swings around Z’s head with his left arm, CLOCKING the Carnie across the face with a vicious crossface shot! Stunned, Zenon releases the ropes…and the Slaughterer launches him backwards with a TREMENDOUSLY elevated German Suplex, dropping the one-letter wonder square on his neck in the center of the ring! A chorus of boos rings out from the front row as Silent approaches the motionless Z…. “Good God! Z’s attempt at an early escape seems to have backfired tremendously!” hollers Mark as the Slaughterer stops away at his opponent’s head and back. “Taking such a devastating shot to the head this early in the match can’t bode well for the eventual outcome!” Silent grabs hold of Z’s right arm, places it between his legs, and rolls forward, forcing Z to roll with him towards the ropes, and slams the Carnie into the mat, applying an armbar at the same time! Z grasps at the bottom rope, and Eddy Long begins yelling at the Slaughterer from outside the cage door, but Silent only smiles at the referee, and pulls back even harder on the armbar. “Sound strategy by Silent,” notes Riley. “If Z can’t use his right arm, he can’t scamper up the cage quite as fast.” Stevens looks a little confused by Riley’s use of the word ‘scamper’ as Silent wrenches back on Z’s right arm, drawing a howl of pain from the one-letter wonder as he claws at the ropes in vain. Seeing that Z is still very much conscious of both the pain and his surroundings, the Clansman stands up and drags Z away from the ropes, keeping hold of his right arm as he does so. Silent gives his opponent’s arm a sharp pull, forcing him to roll onto his stomach to relieve the pressure, and applies a hammerlock to keep the blue-haired one face-down on the mat. Silent begins to carefully, methodically drive his knee into Z’s shoulder once…twice…three…four times, eliciting a yelp from the Carnie with each strike. Silent releases the hammerlock and stands…backs up to the ropes…and crushes Z’s right shoulder with a running knee drop! “Silent’s in control very early in this match…if he can dictate the pace, as he’s so fond of doing, this could get very messy, very soon for Z…” Z clutches at his shoulder, trying to block out the pain, but Silent grabs a handful of the Carnie’s electric-blue hair and pulls him to his feet. The Silent One connects with two quick forearm shots to the face before taking hold of Z’s right arm and twisting his entire body to the right, taking Zenon to the canvas with an Arm Dragon Screw. “Another knee drop to Z’s right shoulder….and another…and another…Jesus, Riley, this is going to be a massacre! Silent could win this match at any time with the condition Z is in…why doesn’t he just start climbing the damn cage already?” “I told you, Mark, Silent’s coming into this match to punish Z. He gave this kid a way out of their first match, he didn’t take it, and nearly got killed…oh, nice one,” whistles Riley as Silent drives Z’s head into the mat with a hammerlock DDT. “Anyway, Z didn’t learn his lesson the first time around, and he…did…something…terrible to Silent’s Diablo. He’s not getting out of this match without a little bit of pain and suffering, I think.” Riley chuckles to himself as he contemplates how much pain and suffering Silent has already inflicted on the young Carnie, who lies in the center of the ring, holding his right shoulder and wondering if the “I <3 Midnight Carnival” decal was a little bit too much. Silent interrupts his opponent’s musing with a quick leg drop to the back of the neck, leaving Z unsure which body part he should cradle in pain first. Satisfied with the condition of his opponent’s shoulder, Silent picks Z up from the mat by the hair, grabs hold of his right arm and twists it sharply, and whips him across the ring. Z comes bounding back towards the Slaughterer, who waits patiently to deliver a potent spinebuster to his opponent… …And Z connects with a wild Arm Grenade with his left arm, knocking Silent back into the cage! The Clansman’s back connects with the steel with a resounding CLANG!, and the Kansas City crowd suddenly comes alive for the littlest Carnie! Z whips Silent across the ring this time, –wincing a little as he does so- and, as the Slaughterer comes sprinting back, murder in his eyes, Z connects with a running, LEAPING variation of the Arm Grenade! Silent crashes to the canvas, and Z scrambles to his feet, scurrying up the cage as the Silent One rolls forward from a prone position…and misses Z’s ankle by the merest of inches! “Z with a pair of Arm Grenades out of nowhere, and it looks like he might make it out of the cage tonight with his hide intact!” bellows Mark, as Z continues to climb and Silent groggily gets to his feet… …But his right arm gives out inches from the top! Z clutches at it with his left hand instinctively, doing his best to tough it out and continue his slow ascent… Before realizing he just. Let go. Of the cage. Whoops. Z falls swiftly towards the canvas as cameras flash throughout the Kemper Arena, capturing his fall on film just as Silent makes it to the cage…and looks up. Z turns himself around on the way down, ostensibly to get better acquainted with the oncoming canvas, but instead meets the surprised face of Silent! “Cross-body block from the top of the cage!” “Bullshit! He fell on him, that lucky little bastard!” ”It works out the same way in the end, Bobbi, and that’s what counts!” The one-letter wonder and the quiet psychopath crash to the mat together in a heap, with Z just barely getting the better of the exchange. He staggers a little bit as he gets to his feet, but he steadies himself with the ropes. The one-letter wonder looks out at the crowd, then looks down at Silent, who is beginning to stir…Z bangs off one of his trademark salutes to the crowd, then hooks the Silent One’s arms and legs, a twinkle in his eyes… “It’s the Nelbina, ladies and gentlemen! Z has the Nelbina hooked on Silent!” laughs Stevens, and the crowd laughs along with him as Z proceeds to pose Silent into submission, perched upon the Slaughterer’s back like a particularly annoying bird. “Z’s gone too far this time!” yells Riley. Z strikes another pose. “He can’t afford to be showboating like this in the right with the Silent One!” Z strikes a heroic pose. “This is just making things worse for him, I know it!” screams Riley, spraying the announce table with flecks of spittle. Z strikes a heroically stupid pose. “Oh, shut up and let the kid have his fun, Bobbi!” snickers Mark as Z unties himself from Silent’s back. “It’s not every day you see Silent taking part in a joke, willingly or not!” Z looks down at Silent in a puzzled fashion, who is rapidly regaining his senses and thinking increasingly violent thoughts, wondering how to follow up the Nelbina…and settles on the Reverse Chinlock of Eternal Pain and Endless Suffering! The audience is treated to another laugh as Silent, more annoyed than injured, is subjected to the ranting of Z while he’s caught in the Reverse Chinlock of etcetera, etcetera… “TAP! TAP, YOU FOOL! NO MAN CAN WITHSTAND THE REVERSE CHINLOCK OF ETERNAL PAIN AND ENDLESS SUFFERING!” hollers the one-letter wonder, loud enough that he can clearly be heard over the cheers and shouts of the Kemper Arena. An aggravated Silent, sadly unfazed by Z’s devastating arsenal of submission maneuvers, responds by twisting to the right and rolling towards the center of the ring and out of the reverse chinlock. The Slaughterer rises to his feet, murder in his crystal-blue eyes…and he’s met with a dropkick from the littlest Carnie! Silent stumbles backwards…but does not fall. “I think Z has made him angry now, Mark,” mutters Riley. Silent shakes his head slowly, as if to say, “No, not good enough,” to Z, who quickly backs up… CRACK! …And lunges forward with a superkick, catching Silent squarely in the jaw! “Blizzard of oZ!” yells Mark Stevens…but Silent simply holds his ground, unimpressed. “Hah!” cackles Riley. “It didn’t even faze him!” The Clansman slowly cracks his neck and raises one hand, beckoning Z forward…the blue-haired one charges screaming at the Silent One, left arm outstretched for another Arm Grenade… …Pulls up short, and drops the Slaughterer to the mat with a mighty kick to the nuts! “Galatea Special from the Carnie, and Silent is down for the count!” “Mark, we’ve talked about this before. There’s nothing special about the Galatea Special; he just kicked him in the jumblies!” “Shut up, Bobbi!” Z hops over Silent, who lies doubled over on the mat, and bounces onto the second turnbuckle. The one-letter wonder salutes the crowd to a rather large pop before leaping off the ropes and onto his opponent, driving an elbow into Silent’s chest. He hooks the leg of the Silent One, pinning his shoulders to the mat…and promptly slaps himself in the forehead as he realizes there are no pinfalls to be counted. “A bit of a tactical error by your Carnie friend, Mark,” grins Riley as Z sheepishly smiles and gets to his feet. “Bah, we all make mistakes, Riley. Remember that time you thought NTD was really a…” ”Shut up, Mark. Just shut up.” “Besides, Bobbi,” says Grand Slam as Z drops an elbow on Silent…and another elbow, and another elbow, and another elbow. “Alex seems to be in control of this match at last!” The blue-haired one pulls the Slaughterer to his feet and whips him across the ring, being sure this time to whip him with his LEFT arm… “Z ducks a Roaring Elbow…Z ducks a Burning Lariat…Z ducks a second lariat…wait, reversal!” As Silent swings his arm hard at Zenon’s head, the Carnie fluidly dodges and circles around behind his opponent! Z grabs an inverted facelock, bending Silent backwards, and drives him to the canvas with a powerful elbow shot! “Turn ‘n Burn, a move popularized by former World champion Divefire, and adapted by Z!” Mark points out helpfully, and the one-letter wonder makes a run for the cage! “The Carnie’s making a break for it!” spits Riley. “Afraid of the Silent One, just as I suspected.” “If he’s so afraid of him, Riley, then why did he leave Silent laying on the mat?” ”He didn’t, Stevens. Take a look at your monitor, huh?” Sure enough, back inside the cage, the Silent One is already on his feet! Silent angrily stalks over to where Z is climbing, one-handed, towards the top, grabs hold of both the Carnie’s ankles, and yanks him off of the cage! Silent lets go and steps to the left, out of the way, as the one-letter wonder falls crashing to the mat! “Ow! He’s going to feel that one tomorrow morning,” notes Riley as Silent pulls Z to his feet…and SLAMS his face into the side of the cage, rocking the structure’s very foundations with the force of the blow! Z collapses into a camouflaged heap, and the audience lets loose a sympathetic groan as the Slaughterer pulls him up from the mat…and rams his face into the cage once again! “Silent seems to have taken offense to Z’s Galatea Special earlier in the match, and he’s getting a measure of revenge for it, it seems!” ”Yeah, and maybe a measure of revenge for what Z did to his car on Storm, huh?” ”Riley, quit harping on the Diablo. Just because you drive a frickin’ Focus doesn’t mean you need to get all worked up over somebody else’s nicer car.” ”Hey, now…you leave my Focus alone…” The camera cuts away from a defensive Bobby Riley to the ring, where the Silent One is grinding Z’s face harshly against the links of the steel cage. Silent pulls Z back from the cage by his hair, and the camera captures a shot of Z’s forehead gushing blood all over the ring as he falls to the canvas. “Houston, we have a 0.7 Muta in the ring…” ”Riley, shut up.” ”Hee hee hee…come on, Mark, that one was funny.” Silent hauls the bloodied Carnie to his feet, hooks a full-nelson, and heaves backwards, dropping Z on his head for the second time in the match! Silent pulls him up again…and hurls him backwards with another Dragon Suplex! The Slaughterer pulls his opponent up once more to complete his trademark Chasing The Dragon maneuver…and he sidesteps another Galatea Special from the blue-haired one before hurling him backwards onto his neck for a third and final time! “Three Dragon Suplexes delivered with neck-breaking intensity from the Silent One!” Riley yells excitedly as Silent rises to his feet. The Silent One sits on Z’s right shoulder, placing all his weight on the Carnie’s back, and pulls backwards on Z’s right arm, locking in a reverse armbar from a sitting position, preventing the one-letter wonder from rolling out of the hold. “Silent’s going right back to that right arm of Z’s!” notes Stevens. “An extremely sound strategy, given that it’s already kept Z from escaping once!” Silent wretches back with both arms on Z’s right shoulder, drawing shouts of pain and general unhappiness from the blue-haired one, who claws at the canvas, trying his best to block out the pain. The Slaughterer bends Z’s wrist back with his left hand, applying pressure in yet another area of Z’s battered right arm, before releasing the hold. Silent pulls Z to his feet and walks him into the center of the ring. The Silent One applies an arm wringer to the one-letter wonder’s right arm, gives it a harsh tug, and floors Z with a swift hook kick! Z crashes to the mat, sending a few drops of blood onto Silent’s pants leg as he does so. Silent begins kicking relentlessly at Z’s head and ribs, driving his blood-splattered boots into his opponent with a calculated fury as the boos and jeers of the Missouri crowd reach a new decibel level. “Silent is just dominating Z right now!” giggles Riley. “Three Dragon Suplexes…if I wasn’t so into this match, I’d think we should call it off right about now!” Z flails his limbs wildly, trying to get to his feet, but only manages to make it to one knee before Silent grabs a handful of wild blue hair again and yanks him the rest of the way upwards. The Clansman pulls Z’s right arm over his shoulder and pulls down hard, almost popping the Carnie’s arm right out of its socket. He repeats it once…twice…three times before spinning around, grabbing a hammerlock, and cinching Z up for a gutwrench suplex… “The nerve of Silent!” spits Stevens. “What?” ”That move he’s going for is called the Midnight Carnival. Z is in the Carnival. Think about it a little bit, Bobbi.” ”Oh…heh heh. I like it. I like it a lot.” Mark Stevens sighs as Silent gets set to lift his smaller opponent up…Z grapevines Silent’s leg and blocks the suplex! Silent tries again…and Z blocks in the same fashion! Frustrated, the Silent One releases the hammerlock to pound on the one-letter wonder’s exposed back…and suddenly doubles over in pain as the littlest Carnie drives his knee directly into his opponent’s groin! “Galatea Special, number two!” ”Mark, I told you about that.” ”And I told you to shut up, Bobbi!” Silent doubles over, clutching his groin, but does not fall. Z stumbles out of the waistlock…grabs Silent’s left arm, throws his leg over Silent’s neck, and smashes the Clannite into the canvas with the Krazy Krash! Z stumbles away from Silent, trying desperately to reach the cage and capitalize on his desperation counter, but Silent bounces back up from the mat, a bloody nose the only visible effect of the Krazy Krash! The Slaughterer charges, looking for a Burning Lariat, but Z sidesteps Silent’s arm and cinches him up for a Russian Legsweep…Silent counters with an elbow to the side of Z’s head and hooks the Carnie’s leg, lifts him up, and slams him back down with a devastating Backflip Slam! Z bounces once as he hits the mat, and Silent stands… Satisfied that the Silence Special will keep the Carnie down, Silent confidently heads towards the cage…as Z pushes himself up to his knees! “Z’s getting up, Riley, and Silent doesn’t see him! The Silent One’s indifference to the crowd is about to bite him in the ass!” ”Turn around, Silent, TURN AROUND!” But the Clansman is oblivious to Riley’s warning as he begins to climb the far side of the cage. Closer and closer the Silent One comes to the top, only a few feet away from victory…until something starts pulling at his left leg! The crowd explodes as Z, wiping the blood from his eyes, pulls courageously on Silent’s leg like a small but very agitated dog from the turnbuckle! More annoyed than concerned, Silent absently tries to kick the littlest Carnie away from him so he can continue his climb to victory… …And the Silent One overbalances… …loses his grip on the steel cage… …And falls back to the canvas! “Silent’s down! Silent’s down! Z’s back in this matchup!” hollers Mark Stevens, and the crowd begins to chat the one-letter wonder’s somewhat abbrieviated name: “ZEE! ZEE! ZEE! ZEE!” Silent collapses to the mat, momentarily stunned, leaving Z perched on the turnbuckle. The blue-haired Carnie grins and salutes the crowd…jumps, spins, and bounces off the ropes… “SHOTGUN MOONSAULT!” hollers Mark Stevens, and indeed it is, as Z springs off the ropes, flies less than gracefully through the air, and lands smack dab on Silent’s chest! “Z just hit his finishing maneuver, and that might be enough to put this match away!” Z grins, fairly impressed with his own handiwork, as Silent writhes on the mat in pain. Not wanting to waste any more time, the one-letter wonder hurries over to the side of the cage, and begins to climb… The Kemper Arena is fully behind the littlest Carnie as he fights his way up the cage, bad arm and all, inch by unforgiving inch. “Silent’s only just now stirring, and Z’s almost to the top!” hollers Stevens. “He’s almost got it won…wait a minute!” The volume of the crowd rises a decibel or two as Z throws one leg over the top of the cage…then changes to a collective gasp as Silent leaps onto the cage and grabs hold of his hair, preventing the blue-haired one from getting any farther! “How the hell does he move that fast?” wonders Riley, as the Slaughterer pulls himself up to the top of the cage, keeping hold of Z’s hair as he does so. The Carnie desperately tries to fight him off with a barrage of punches to the head and shoulders, but Silent shrugs them off and fires off two quick elbow strikes to Z’s temple! His opponent stunned, Silent braces his feet between the links of the cage and hooks Z’s left leg, using his other hand to hold onto the top of the cage and keep his balance. A low murmur runs through the Missouri crowd as the two men stand precariously on top of the cold, hard steel… “Silent’s got Z set up for something I…can’t quite make out,” mutters Stevens as he squints at the monitor. Suddenly, Grand Slam’s eyes widen. “Oh, no. Wait a minute. He’s not going to…oh, SHIT!” The Silent One releases his hold on the cage and quickly cinches up Z with his free hand, as if he were going for a suplex…before leaping backwards, OFF THE TOP OF THE CAGE, with his Carnival opponent in tow! They fall… They fall… And they land. CRASH! “Unbelievable!” breathes Riley, and a gigantic “HO-LY SHIT!” chant breaks out to emphasize the point. “Silent just…just PLASTERED Z with a Fisherman’s Buster from the top of the cage! I’m surprised there aren’t little tiny Z chunks around the ring!” ”That was sickening, Riley! Z might need medical attention after that…Jesus, they’ve been in there for fifteen minutes, and Z is a bloody mess!” Neither man moves for a long, long moment…until the Silent One sits up, more than a little winded after a fifteen-foot drop from the top of the cage. He rises to his feet, a little unsteadily, and walks over to the cage, begins to climb amidst a hail of boos… …And stops. The Slaughterer turns his head and looks down at Z, who lies staring up at the lights in the center of the ring, blood streaming from the gashes opened in his forehead by the steel cage. Silent hops off of the cage, landing deftly on his feet next to his fallen opponent…and drags Z to his feet, slings him over his shoulder…and begins to climb again! “What in the blue hell is he doing?” wonders Stevens, as Silent inches closer to the top of the cage. “He’s practically won this match…why is he carrying Z…?” A light dawns in Mark Stevens’ eyes as Silent reaches the top of the cage…and looks down at the announce table. “Mark…um…I think we should move, now.” ”Riley, I’m going to have to agree with you there.” The two announcers hurry out of the way as Silent props the bloodied one-letter wonder up on the top of the cage, both men balancing precariously on the edge… “Time for a gut check, boy!” screams Silent as the announcers scurry over to the Spanish announce table, looking in vain for an extra pair of headsets. The Slaughterer’s voice rings out, fifteen feet in the air, high above the crowd in the Kemper Arena… “Do you want to win…or…do you want…to live?” Through blood-encrusted lips, Z mumbles his answer. Only the Silent One hears the whispered words of the one-letter wonder… ”I want…to beat you.” “What’s going on up there?” hollers Mark Stevens through his newly acquired headset. “We can’t hear anything…can we get a…oh, no.” Stevens stares, his face pale, as Silent braces his feet against the cage and carefully picks Z up…into position for the Fall From Grace. “There’s no way he can…Silent will kill himself when he falls off the cage, and damn it, he’ll take Alex with him!” “It’s too late to turn back now, Mark! Z knew what he was asking for when he challenged Silent to this match, and I’ll be damned if he’s not about to get it!” With an effort visible from fifteen feet below him, Silent lifts Z above his head. Both men totter dangerously on the edge for a long, long moment… …Before Silent hurls Z from the cage… All. The way. To the ground. **CRASH!** “Sweet merciful crap!” screams Stevens. Z lies motionless in the rubble of the English announce table as Funyon calls for the somewhat anti-climatic bell… **DING DING** ”Your winner…ZEEEEEEEEEEE!” ”Epic” hits the speakers, and Z’s video plays….but it all seems terribly, terribly out of place. “Well, folks, Z is…is the winner, as it were, in this match, but my God, at what a price!” Paramedics rush out to ringside, two of them carrying a stretcher, as “Epic” plugs away. Silent stands still at the top of the cage, looking ominously down on his handiwork as Z is hoisted onto the stretcher and carried back up the ramp. “Riley, I know that Z asked for this match, but…my God, Silent may have ended his career.” The camera centers on a grim-faced Mark Stevens. “Folks, give us a few minutes to clean up on our end and we’ll be right back for the main event, where Lerrin Breggan and Chris Wilson will take on Edwin MacPhisto and Longdogger Pete, with two ringside enforcers…the Hardcore champion, Jay Dawg, and…and that man up there…” The camera returns briefly to Silent, who still stands atop the cage, arms outstretched in the crucifix pose, before we starwipe to a commercial…

I'd say no, but you could have it half set up or something if you like. -Z

Yeah, I know, that match is overbooked to the MAX. Unfortunately, I was having real problems trying to figure out what do do with everyone in it. To get all those titles spread around, I would've had to either ignore the tag titles completely (which I desperately didn't want to), or double book about three people (which I also desperately didn't want to). Also, please note that I've added theme music and notes about the arena decorum, as Janus reminded me I'd forgotten. -Z

Just, uh, noticed I forgot Tom's ending promo. Whoops. Just imagine all the stuff about a good show I said in the original closing post was still here. Yep. -Z

Tom Flesher sits in his locker room on the small couch in front of a coffee table and a ring monitor. He wears a long-sleeved Superior One rugby shirt and a pair of jeans, and leans forward. He props his elbows on his knees as he pulls a Camel Turkish Royal from the pack in front of him. “Ann Onita,” he says as he lights the cigarette, “I’m not sure if you know what happened on Lockdown. Maybe I should clear up a few things.” He takes a drag on the cig, exhaling a cloud of smoke. His cold blue eyes show no emotion, and his face is stone. He doesn’t look ashamed of himself, or particularly proud. His tone is even, and despite his usual touch of arrogance, he seems to be totally devoid of feeling. “First of all, Ann, is the most glaringly obvious point. You weren’t carrying your weight. I know that and you know that. The fans knew that. Allison knew that. They could tell as soon as we got into the ring. I was the one doing all the work, Ann. You remember what it was like working out together before the matches. You didn’t have the work ethic you needed to keep up with me, and so I had to take charge and up the intensity in the practice room. I had to coach you on timing and how to work in a tag team, and you resented me for that. When we got into the ring, you insisted on wrestling your own match, and I suffered for it.” Tom takes another hit off his cigarette. “When we lost to Maddix and Royal, I knew things were going to get worse before they got better. If you’d just listened to me and to Allison, you wouldn’t have gotten caught.” Flesher ashes his cigarette into the ashtray, then leans back. He crosses his arms across his chest and continues in his measured tones. “I thought I’d give you a second chance. I know that I’m good enough to take Janus and Aecas singlehandedly, and I assumed you’d be able to deal with a rookie and a guy who’s never quite been able to get off the ground. You proved me wrong again, Ann. That just goes to show the old saying… fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. I could tell early in the match that you were going to fool me again, but I stuck it out until the last minute. I could see it in your eyes when you were trying to tag out to me that you didn’t really mean it, Ann, and that’s why I walked out on you. You hit one Drop Kiss and think I’m going to go in there and clean up after you? That’s just bad policy, and you know it.” Flesher drags again, exhaling another cloud of smoke. He continues staring at the camera. “But I knew right from the start that this wasn’t going to work out. You’ve never made an effort to forget what happened in the Magnificent Seven, I understand that. I know that you felt like I treated you as subhuman, when I was just trying to motivate you. You thought I was somehow treating you as less than a contributing stable member, when I treated you just as well as I would have treated Judge, Ejiro or Fugue if they’d pulled the kind of crap you did. As it was, Ann, they were the valuable members of the stable, and so they got rewarded. If you can’t see past that, I’m sorry, but I can’t be expected to compensate for your inabilities.” “It’s unfortunate what’s happened to us, Ann, but you can’t blame me for it. It was your fault we lost each of those matches. It was your fault you didn’t get top billing in the Magnificent Seven. It’s going to be your fault that Charlie Matthews gets a check in the Loss column tonight.” Flesher takes one final drag, then carefully stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray. “You have no one to blame but yourself.”

Later that night… The door to Alex Zenon’s office swings open. The commissioner looks up, sees his visitor, and sighs. “Tom,” he says flatly. “What a pleasant surprise.” “Likewise,” deadpans Flesher, still fresh from the ring. “If it’s all the same, Tom, I was getting ready to pack up. We’ve got another long haul, and I was hoping to get back to Jersey before Battleground.” “I won’t be five minutes,” Flesher says. He shuts the door behind him. “Fine,” Alex sighs. “Make it quick, and remember… I’m not inclined to give favors.” “I don’t blame you,” Flesher says. “And even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. You know more about how this business works than anyone short of maybe Brian or Mark. I mean, it’s not just any schmuck who gives me so much trouble that I can’t beat him clean.” “And it’s not just any schmuck who’s known you long enough to see through that act,” Alex says. “Tom, I thought you’d give me more credit than to pull that with me again. So cut the crap.” “It’s about Allison,” he says. “Next.” “What?” Flesher says, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t want to hear it. This is between the three of you, there’s no reason for me to involve myself.” “That’s the thing, Alex,” says Flesher. “Allison’s so confused right now… and Ann’s being such a bitch about the whole thing…” “… because you walked out on her last week.” Flesher sighs. “I was frustrated, okay?” Alex looks at his watch. “Alright, listen. Allison’s a solid manager, but Ann’s not willing to let her work for both of us at the same time. Alli’s a big girl, she can make her own decisions, but neither of us is making this very easy. So how about this?” Flesher smiles ever so slightly. “Ann Onita. Tom Flesher. Allison’s managerial services on the line… in a…” “Ladder match.” “What?!” “You heard me,” says Alex. “Allison is Ann’s sister. She deserves the advantage.” “But I’ve never – ” “I know. TNT, ELM and then Wildchild. Three ladder matches, three losses. If you want Allison to be your manager that badly, you’ll find a way to win.” Flesher glares. “Take it or leave it, Tom. I don’t have time for this.” Flesher glowers. “I’ll take it,” he says huffily, “but…” “But nothing. Don’t make me miss my flight.” “Fine,” he says. He turns and starts out the door, stopping only to swivel his head. “Good luck against Kibs.” “Don’t… make me miss my flight, Tom.” Fade. === SWF Smarkdown, April 19, 2004. © Noble Gas Television. All rights reserved. The SWF: “Raising workrate by typing faster.”

Good schtuff. As I said in IM, I'm surprised at the fact you're doing a standard interview promo. It's so mundane it seems completely out of your style. However, something introspective and interior monologue-y wouldn't really address what Alex did on the show as well, so yeah. Almost exactly what you'd expect from Kibagami: Still confident, still full of conviction, and completely without fear. And really, what does he have to be afraid of? After all, Alex is Alex's own worst enemy, no? -Z

We'll say they apply for that segment, just for the sake of your sanity. -Z

The Oakland Arena lights up as SWF Smarkdown returns! The fans know that it’s time for the main event and get accordingly excited. The crowd is dotted with navy “ICHIBAN” t-shirts and “GRAPPLER” signs, with only a few scattered blue and white Superior One rugby shirts or plain black “Unnamed” tees to be seen. The tension is so thick, you could cut it with a knife… and soon, it will explode into the ring. The lights go down and the SmarkTron begins glowing white. As the opening guitars of the Philosopher Kings’ “I Am The Man” vibrate through the arena, the fans boo, anticipating the entrance of the Superior One. After a few seconds… BOOM! An explosion of blue pyro and smoke lights up the arena as the song starts to rock out over the sound system! Tom Flesher emerges from the cloud of smoke, striding confidently to the ring as videos of his signature moves alternate in half-second clips with the words “SUPERIOR ONE,” “AWARD-WINNING,” “MAIN ATTRACTION” and “THE MAN.” Flesher pauses on the ramp, crossing his arms over his chest as the fans curse him and throw things. They continue booing as he falls out of his pose and walks to the ring. “This is your MAIN EVENT!” shouts Cyclone Comet. “Tonight, we see the continuing development of the relations, carnal or otherwise, between Tom Flehser and the Onitas, and between John Duran and Charlie Matthews! What will happen? Only time will tell.” Flesher climbs the stairs to enter the ring and, making sure to wipe his feet off on the apron, steps into the ring. As the music fades away, Flesher positions himself in the center of the ring. Funyon makes his announcement… “The following tag team match is scheduled for one fall, and it is your main event! The first competitor, from Buffalo, New York and weighing in at 231 pounds… ‘the Superior One,’ TOM FLESHER!” Flesher strips his warmup off and begins stretching out as the lights go down again. Bright white letters flash on the screen on a black background, guided by the opening words of Duran Duran's "Notorious." "NO NO NOTORIOUS!" Those words fade into Spineshank's "Synthetic," as John Duran comes through the curtain and makes his way down to the ring, the boos and middle fingers thrown into the air instantly. “And his partner, from Champaign, Illinois, and weighing 268 pounds, ‘The Notorious’ JOHN DURAN!” Duran steps up on the apron and enters the ring, going to the center of the ring and raising his arms, not bothering with the middle fingers back to the crowd as he turns back around and joins Tom in their corner. “And their opponents…” As the slow intro of "Risky Gamble" by Megumi Hayashibara plays, the suit-clad Ann appears on the SmarkTron, shown sideways with her hand extended like a gun. The viewpoint rotates until the shot is dead straight with Ann's finger. The song kicks into high gear just as she 'shoots', causing a blue pyrotechnic explosion to occur on the entrance ramp. Annie walks out with cigar in hand, her sister following behind her. “From Tokyo, Japan, and weighing 175 pounds… Ann ‘Ichiban’ Onita!” Ann continues walking as Allison follows behind her. As Ann enters the ring, Allison stays on the outside. She walks to a neutral corner and leans on the apron, watching her sister and Tom Flesher alternately. “There you see Allison Onita,” says Bobby Riley. “She’s torn between loyalty to her sister and the sweet, sweet posterior of Tom Flesher. Truly, truly between a rock and a hard place.” “I doubt you’ll see much conflict,” says Comet. “Blood is, after all, thicker than water.” “Yeah, but not as thick as…” “Spandex. Not nearly,” says Comet. He then sighs a sigh of relief, having avoided an enormous FCC fine for indecency. “And her tag team partner…” The crowd immediately begins to scream. “This is the man,” says Cyclone Comet, “who is going to Battleground against John Duran for the SWF World Heavyweight Title! Never has he wanted to defeat John Duran more than right now!” The lights dim once more as the first guitar riff of Metallica's "Some Kind of Monster" hits. As the lyrics kick in, a single spotlight shines on the entryway as Grappler finally walks out, intently focused on the ring. He stares into the ring, and calmly walks up the stairs. He stretches out, then stares a hole at his opponent as the official calls for the bell. DING DING DING!!!! “And here we go,” says Bobby Riley. “It looks like John Duran and Charlie Matthews are going to start this one off.” Grappler and Duran meet in the center of the ring, with referee Ced Ordonez watching them line up. Each man stares at the other, with the taller and leaner Duran allowing a small smile to cross his face. He grabs Matthews by the shoulder and pulls him into a collar-and-elbow tieup. The two giants fight in the tie, jockeying for position. Matthews grabs Duran’s bicep and shucks it down, slamming his collar grip downward and locking on a side headlock! This draws applause from the fans as Matthews tightens the hold, getting himself oriented in the match. “And here’s Grappler in true form,” says Riley with an exaggerated yawn. “He gets in the ring with a man who’s been a thorn in his side for months now, and he decides to go back to that horrible, boring nice guy crap. Like that’s going to get him anywhere.” Grappler flexes his massive biceps as he holds on to the headlock. Duran, however, has other ideas. He reaches up, posting one hand on the elbow cocked around his head. He pushes it forward, sliding out the back door of the headlock and spinning Grappler around to face him. As Matthews turns to face Duran, he eats a stiff right hand! Grappler steps backwards, caught off-guard by the blow. “And there, Citizen Matthews is sucker-punched by the Notorious One,” says Comet. “Sadly, the official cannot rectify that, because the rules deal only with illegalities and not moral violations. Shame on you, Mr. Duran!” “Christ. Next you’ll be babbling about ‘unethical treatment of testicles’ again.” Duran grabs Matthews by the wrist and starts to whip him to the ropes, but the SWF World Champion plants his feet and stops his momentum by slamming a forearm into Duran’s neck! Matthews follows up by clubbing Duran’s neck again, then grabbing his head and locking up another side headlock. The fans stand up and cheer once again. “I just don’t get it,” Riley muses. “These schmucks look at anyone else and boo the crap out of him for going back to the same hold over and over again, but with Matthews, they cheer it. What the hell?” “Well, Robert, Charlie Matthews is an unusually talented performer. The fans have come to understand that his way of entertaining them is to actually bore them, and they’ve begun to be entertained by that refreshing change of pace.” “Ohhh, like when a hostage falls in love with her captor?” “Stockholm Syndrome is nothing to joke about, Robert,” chides Comet. “But yes, exactly like that.” Duran reaches up again, posting on the elbow in hopes of escaping again the same way. This time, Grappler tightens his grip and holds fast, straining to keep the headlock. Duran struggles to escape once again, but realizes that it’s futile. Instead, he steps forward, shooting Matthews off his head and toward the ropes. Ann Onita can be seen on the background, cheering him on. He rebounds, his arm cocked for a lariat. John Duran ducks the clothesline, and Matthews hits the opposite ropes. He rebounds, and Duran turns into him and nails him in the breadbasket with a stiff knee strike! Matthews staggers forward and drops to one knee for an instant, then stands back up. He walks toward the corner, the wind knocked out of him by the surprise Kitchen Sink, and reaches out to tag Ann Onita! This draws a burst of cheers from the fans. John Duran sees this and stares at Ann. He takes a look back at his corner and then returns his sights to Ann, as he nods his head slowly. Duran moves back a step reaching his right hand out while pointing in a threatening manner towards Ann with his left. A smirking Tom Flesher deliberately tags himself in, and the crowd goes wild. “And here’s what we’ve all been waiting for,” shills Bobby Riley. “Tom Flesher and Ann Onita!” “Flesher, of course, walked out on Ann Onita last week like a child taking his ball and going home, simply because they were losing,” says Comet. “In my mind, that makes Flesher no better than a toddler who cries when he doesn’t get his way.” “Tom Flesher is a world-class athlete, and he’s used to people living up to his standards. If Ann Onita couldn’t handle the pressure, she shouldn’t have agreed to team with him!” Flesher and Ann walk to the center, with Allison standing in a neutral corner. She doesn’t say a word, not even as Flesher reaches out and bitchslaps Ann completely unprovoked! Ann stands her ground, answering back with a stiff right hand! Before Ced Ordonez can interject himself at all, Flesher and Onita are exchanging palm strikes and punches with a sickening stiffness that makes the fans cringe! After three or four rounds of blow-for-blow, Ann hammers Flesher with a knife-edge chop to the chest that stuns him for a moment. She takes full advantage of the attack by leaping into the air and nailing him with a Drop Kiss that takes him down! The fans burst into cheers, while Allison simply looks worried. Ann covers Tom for ONE! But Flesher quickly kicks out. He sits up, and Ann quickly sprints to the ropes. As Tom gets to his vertical base, she leaves her feet and flies at him with a flying forearm! He eats the blow and collapses to the mat, but rolls to his stomach to avoid being covered. Ann slides onto his back, attacking by using a hammerlock to control him. “Ann Onita, working the hammerlock to set up the Triple C,” says Bobby Riley. “Not a smart move, since we all know how rare it is for Flesher to tap out.” “But isn’t it a little silly to avoid working for it just because it hasn’t happened much?” asks Comet. “Where I come from…” “Mars.” “… if you know what you’re doing, and Ann Onita certainly knows how to attack an arm, it’s considered a safe bet to attack it. Plus, Ann has an inherent advantage in this match, for while Flesher is foolish and has turned his back on her, she still represents the side of JUSTICE~!” Flesher struggles underneath Onita as she works the hammerlock. He pushes back. When Ann changes her position to compensate, Flesher rolls out to the side. He spins behind, locking on a hammerlock of his own. Instead of using it to work the arm, however, he simply pins Ann to the mat with his left shoulder by leaning with all his weight on her wrist. From there, he raises his right arm up and whacks her in the back of the head with a shotei! The crowd boos roundly as Allison looks on with a look of concern for her sister’s health. Flesher releases the hammerlock and stands up, pointing to John Duran. Duran dutifully applauds; prompting another chorus of boos from the fans. Tom Flesher, from there, grabs Ann by her hair and lifts her to her feet. Stunned, she throws a weak punch that Flesher simply ignores as it lands on his chest. He hooks her head and ducks under her arm, lifting her upside down and holding her there for a vertical suplex. He stalls with her for as long as he can… “Look at the strength Tom Flesher is showing here,” marvels Bobby Riley. “He’s holding Ann Onita upside down like she’s a ragdoll! It’s like he’s not even trying!” After what seems like an eternity, Flesher sits out. He slams Ann headfirst into the mat with a stalling brainbuster, and she collapses into a heap! Allison jumps back, covering her eyes, whereas Flesher just sits up, dusting off his hands. “Ann Onita has certainly taken more than her share of blows to the head recently,” says Comet with an air of concern. “It’s no surprise that Tom Flesher should attempt to attack her head early on, but to succeed with a brainbuster… could this match be over already?!” He nonchalantly covers Onita, and Ced counts ONE!!!! TWO!!!!! NO! The crowd cheers as Ann Onita, although clearly scrambled, gets a shoulder up and avoids the pin. Flesher stands up, shrugging. He boots Ann in the shoulder and shoos her toward her corner, as if to say, “Get me some real competition.” Allison Onita smiles ever so slightly in the aftermath. “And Allison, pleased to see her sister kicking out after that dangerous move,” says Comet. “That closeness between siblings is unprecedented, even among tag team partners or pornographic co-stars.” Ann crawls over to the corner as Flesher crosses his arms, sighs exasperatedly and taps his foot impatiently. The crowd boos Flesher’s cockiness, and then bursts into cheers as Charlie Matthews tags in! Flesher stands in the center of the ring as Matthews makes his way in. Flesher steps forward and meets Matthews with a backhand… that the World Champion catches! He holds Flesher’s arm by the wrist and glares, with Flesher’s eyes opening to roughly the size of dinner plates as he tries to back away! The World Champion has none of it, though, and yanks the arm to pull Flesher into a short arm clothesline! The crowd cheers as Flesher gets knocked on his ass, then quickly springs back up and starts to back away. Grappler follows him, stalking toward him. He grabs the man he outweighs by nearly 75 pounds and slams him into a corner, holding him there as the crowd screams its approval! Matthews leans on Flesher and slaps him across the face, making Flesher’s head spin. He continues paintbrushing the former World Champion until Flesher is knocked absolutely silly, and finishes off the sequence with a big right hand! The crowd goes crazy as Matthews backs away. Flesher staggers out of the corner, taking two steps forward. There, he stops in his tracks and simply flops forward on his face. The crowd screams for Matthews. “And Charlie Matthews comes in to take charge!” shouts Comet. “Fine job, Citizen Matthews!” “Oh, sure. You’re just saying that because Flesher’s on the receiving end,” replies Bobby Riley indignantly. “You’ll do anything to see Tom Flesher flat on his back. It makes you feel like a big man, doesn’t it?” “Fortunately,” says Comet, “you accused me of wanting to see Flesher on his back. Had you mentioned Tom being on his face, I would have been forced to violate our new FCC decency agreement per my gay joke quota.” Matthews grabs Flesher and spins him around, then lifts him for an atomic drop! He throws Flesher down onto his knee, and the Superior One jumps forward, his spine reeling from the drop! He grabs the ropes for balance, but Matthews follows him to the sidelines. He grabs Flesher, trying to pull him off. Tom holds on, but before too long Matthews is able to grab him by the singlet and pull him back. He turns Flesher around, going for an inverted atomic drop! This time, though, Flesher sags his hips to keep from being lifted off the mat and then sprawls back to lock on a front headlock! The crowd boos as Flesher extends his body, pulling Grappler to the mat with him and onto his hands and knees. He throws a stiff knee strike to the head and stuns the World Champion, then hammers him with an elbow to the back of the neck! Grappler sprawls out, shaking his head and grabbing at his fragile neck. “There you have Flesher,” says Riley, “keeping the SWF World Champion on the mat and just beating the crap out of him. God, I love this guy.” Matthews backs away, but Flesher follows him. He manages to shake off the front headlock and pull back, while Flesher backs away. He shoots in low, going for a single-leg takedown. Instead, Matthews blocks the move and hooks Flesher by the waist! In an instant, he hoists Flesher off the mat and holds him vertically upside down… then sits out with a piledriver! Flesher lands on the crown of his head and rolls to the side, shaking off the head bump and springing back to his feet. Allison looks on, slightly angered by Charlie’s attack on Flesher and going through a wide range of emotions. Slightly stunned, Tom staggers to a neutral corner and rests, quickly getting his head cleared. In that time, though, Grappler moves to the corner and tags out. “Ann Onita is back in,” says Riley. “Some World Champion – he can’t take a little twinging in his neck, so he tags out to a woman. Big man, isn’t he?” “Surely you don’t begrudge him the chance to rest a bit. He IS facing John Duran at Battleground, and we can’t have Tom Flesher softening him up when clearly Duran’s inability to work a zipper will shine through and he won’t be able to steal that title from around Matthews’ waist.” Ichiban enters the ring, making a beeline for Flesher. Onita gets too close, however, and is unable to counter Tom bending down and taking Ann’s legs out from under her with a blast double leg takedown! Annie is prone after the quick takedown, leaving herself open as Tom goes on the attack, throwing palm strikes at her face and connecting with most of them. The nubile Ichiban is able to move her body just enough to reach out for the ropes, grasping them tightly as referee Ordonez calls for the break, which Flesher immediately makes, not even bothering with the five count. Tom takes his time, leisurely walking over to the corner and tagging in the leader of the Unnamed. “John Duran on his way in,” Riley notes, “and it looks like Onita and Grappler are obviously no match for the blockbuster combination of Duran and my hero Tom Flesher.” “I’m worried for Annie’s safety, Robert. Duran has threatened to finish what he started at the Fight Before Christmas and ruin Ann’s pretty face,” “Not that it matters that you think it’s pretty,” “and he’s crazy enough to do it!” Duran grinds his hands together with a sick smile on his face as he walks towards Annie in the corner. She tries to make a break for it, but Duran rushes forward, coming down hard with a sharp elbow to the back of Annie’s head. The crowd sends a flood of boos towards Duran, as he climbs back to his feet, slapping the back of Annie’s head disrespectfully on his way up. Back to a vertical base, John stomps the back of Annie’s head as Allison looks visibly upset. Ichiban claws at the ropes, desperately trying to get to her feet, but the Notorious One simply stomps Annie down again. “This is no way to treat a woman who could soon become the SWF World Champion!” Comet yells painfully. “You have forgotten one thing, Comet. John Duran is going to be SWF World Champion long before that jezebel can get a whiff of it.” Duran bends over and brings Annie to her feet, only far enough to put her in a front facelock. The Notorious One then moves towards the center of the ring, dragging Onita with him before lifting her up into the air. John holds Annie upside down, letting the blood run to her head before falling forward swiftly with a front suplex! Duran gets right back up on his knees, smirking again to the hissing crowd as John turns Onita over and lazily covers her, Ordonez coming to the mat to count ONE!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!! NO Annie refuses to give up, getting a shoulder up again just before the count of three. “Should’ve hooked the leg there, Robert,” Comet criticizes the actions of Duran. “No big deal, Annie’s going to wish she stayed down for the three count.” John brings Onita up by her head and shoulders (no relation to the shampoo product), backing her up into the ropes and then thrusting her off them, tossing her to the opposite side. On the rebound, Annie is met in the middle of the ring by the Notorious One, who in a flash locks in a full nelson! “This is the beginning to the Break Point, Robert!” Comet panics. “No worries, Comet, this is just to wear down on the neck and shoulders of Ichiban.” “She better tap though, because Duran doesn’t take too kindly to them non-submitting folk,” Riley finished with a drawl. Ordonez moves in to check on Onita, asking if she submits—to which Ann gives an emphatic “no.” The crowd begins to clap in rhythm, stomping their feet on the ground of The Arena to get behind the Hardcore Queen, the Grappler leading them on in the corner, slapping the turnbuckle with his meaty hand. When Ced asks again if Annie submits and gets another negative response, Duran has seen enough, trying to lift Onita off the ground. Annie blocks it, though, giving it all she has. This just incites John even further, however, as he turns towards a neutral corner and hefts Annie up again, this time succeeding as Duran falls back. “OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” The crowd reaction summarizes the brutality of the dragon suplex into the corner, Onita’s head smacking off the bottom turnbuckle as she slumps in the corner. “No! This is wrong! How can John Duran do that to a member of the opposite sex? How can he do that to ANYBODY?” “Told you she should have quit,” Riley coldly remarks. Duran rises to his feet with a sadistic grin on his face, glancing back at the carnage behind him as Allison runs around the ring to check on her twin sister. John rises to his feet and emphatically tags Flesher in. “This Duran/Flesher team is a well-oiled machine,” Riley continues to fellate the duo, “this is a CAKEWALK for these men!” There’s nowhere for Annie to go as she’s dead to the world for the time being. Thus, Flesher has no trouble stepping up, placing his boot against the cheek of Onita and pushing forward, scraping it along the face off the Hardcore Queen as the crowd groans in disgust for the move and Flesher. The Superior One isn’t done, however, placing the boot at the same place and repeating the move not once, but two more times before eventually stopping at the pleading of referee Ordonez! Flesher brings one of his black Doc Martens up, looking at the bottom of the shoe and brushing it off, receiving even more boos for yet another disrespectful act. “This is just sickening,” spits Comet, “I find it very hard to sit and watch this, Riley.” “By all means, leave. I can be alone and still watch Tom wrestle.” Comet pauses before responding. “On second thought, I better stick around.” Comet isn’t afraid to move his chair a few more inches away from Riley at the announce table, however. Flesher grabs Ann by the legs and drags her back towards the center of the ring, using her legs to flip the Hardcore Queen onto her stomach as Flesher goes to Onita’s upper back, draping her arms over the Superior One’s legs, seemingly going for a camel clutch until Tom rocks forward, putting pressure on Ann’s head as it is trapped under Flesher’s body, Ichiban’s shoulders pinned down to the mat as well as Ced Ordonez slides down to the mat, counting ONE!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THR--NO! Charlie Matthews runs in from his corner, breaking the pin before the count of three as Annie is able to escape the Gedo clutch, Allison clapping for her sister. Ordonez immediately turns to the SWF World Champion, trying to usher him out of the ring as Flesher springs to his feet and stares up at the much taller champion, before cocking his hand back and bringing it up, bitchslapping Charlie right in the face as the referee holds him back! The referee has to work double hard after that, as Charlie struggles to get his hands on the Superior One, the crowd booing the taunting former World Champion. “Tom really shouldn’t entice the champion like that,” Comet warns. “Look at how much bigger the Grappler is!” “My man has taken down much bigger,” Riley says in a half-gay, half-promoting comment. Tom backs towards the corner and tags in Duran, keeping the quick tags coming as the Unnamed leader steps through the ropes once again and approaches a crawling Onita, desperate to get to her corner and tag in the World Champion. The crowd continues to boo as Annie nears the corner, reaching out for the tag. Grappler is reaching out as far as he can without actually being in the ring…as Duran latches on to Ann’s hair, pulling her back away from the corner! The crowd ERUPTS in boos, Onita frantically reaching for Matthews but coming up short! “She is CLOSE,” Comet screams, “come on, Duran, be a man and fight someone your own size!” “Not going to happen, Comet. Duran wants to HURT Onita. Allison might as well send for the ambulance now.” Speaking of Allison, she is looking as worried as ever. Duran methodically backs Annie into the near neutral corner, whipping her towards the other turnbuckles… …but Annie reverses! “YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” The crowd’s roar comes as Onita turns the momentum around and sends HIM into the turnbuckles! Ichiban holds her neck in pain, but shakes it off, wanting to punish Duran as the crowd cheers along, chanting “I - CHI - BAN!” as loud as they can. With that, Annie takes off, Allison rooting her twin sister on as Onita goes into a cartwheel, hurdling towards the corner where Duran is waiting, leaping backwards with a back elbow… …that misses! “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Duran dodges and turns around, slamming a hand around the already battered neck of Annie as Allison’s smile and cheers are gone. “CHOOOKESLAM!” Riley calls. However, Duran doesn’t keep it in the ring, instead backing away from the turnbuckle and then taking a step to his left, tossing Annie with one hand over the top rope and sending her to the floor! She hits with a sickening thud, and Flesher cringes for a moment and then applauds the feat of strength from the Notorious One, as the referee condemns Duran for taking the action to the outside, right in front of Flesher. John simply leaves the ring, however, going after Annie still. “The action has spilled to the outside, Comet, and this is where Duran will likely do the most damage!” ONE! Ced Ordonez begins his ten count on the outside as the Unnamed leader brings the Hardcore Queen up to her feet, looking back at the ringsteps and gauging the distance before grabbing Onita’s arm and stepping forward, chucking her into the ringsteps as she hurdles towards them, slamming shoulder and neck first into the cold steel! However, the steps remain sturdy, and Annie is left in a seated position against them. Matthews knows what’s next, and begins to yell at Annie to get to her feet, as Allison seems concerned for her sister. “This is it! Another one of Duran’s Notorious Tactics™!” Riley sounds excited for the prospect of flesh hitting steel. “Stop him, referee!” Ordonez cannot hear the plea, but tries to convince Duran to think twice about doing this, grinning sickly again as he crouches down, ready to charge at Annie with the crowd booing. Matthews leaps off the apron and attempts to go after Duran, but Ced quickly scurries out of the ring, cutting the champion off as Duran takes this opportunity to go, charging full speed at the ring steps, and finally bringing his left knee forward to hit… …nothing but steel! The clank of padded knee against steel is followed by a splat of Duran doing a quick flip and landing hard on the outside of the ring! “Go, Annie, go! Tag Charlie in!” Comet pleads with the Hardcore Queen. Annie slides into the ring as quickly as she can, Flesher trying to cut her off but coming up empty as she staggers towards the corner and dives, slapping hands with the Grappler! Referee Ced Ordonez acknowledges the tag and Matthews comes in as Duran struggles to get to his feet on the outside! The crowd is on their feet, showing their approval for the champion as he leaves the ring and goes to get Duran, picking his challenger at Battleground off the ground easily and chucking him back inside the ring. John rolls to the center of the ring as he attempts to regain the feeling in his knee, with Charlie stalking not far behind. “Duran is in a bad way, Robert, what do you think of him now?” “Once he makes that tag to Flesher, Charlie is going to be big trouble, because that slow boring bastard wishes he could keep up with Tom.” Grappler enters the ring as Duran struggles to his feet, coming towards Grappler as fast as he can on the bad knee…as Matthews catches him across the chin and sweeps out Duran’s legs with a sweeping STO! “Boom,” Comet enunciates the crash of Duran into the mat, “and that’s a surefire way to stop a man’s momentum!” “Not much momentum since that idiot Ann Onita couldn’t take her punishment like a man and get that knee from Duran!” “Punishment for what, Robert?” “God works in mysterious ways.” After that extremely politically incorrect comment from Riley, Duran stumbles to his feet, but Grappler puts him into a standing headscissors. “Here comes the piledriver!” Comet decrees. Sure enough, Matthews wraps his arms around Duran’s waist and goes for the piledriver…but John drops to his knees and brings up an arm between Charlie’s legs! “LOW BLOW!” Riley screams. Matthews is stunned long enough for Duran to crawl and stumble to the corner, tagging in Flesher. Charlie turns to Flesher, former champion entering against the current champion. Grappler seems ready to fight, although winded. However, Onita gets Grappler’s attention. “What’s going on, Robert?” “I think Annie wants back in this match against Flesher! Is she nuts?” No one is for sure, but Grappler turns towards the corner, and then after Annie nods to Charlie, Grappler turns around and tags Onita back in to another round of cheers, mostly from the females as the males want to see Charlie pound Flesher into the ground. Annie enters the ring and Flesher invites the Hardcore Queen to “bring it on” with a smile. Ichiban nears Tom, and they slow things down. Flesher goes to backhand Annie once again with a slap, but Onita grabs it this time! The fans are pleased as Annie bends down, throwing Tom over his shoulders with an armdrag and turning it right into an armbar once Tom hits the mat! “Annie is finally being able to show her stuff her in the ring!” “There was once a time when she charged for such things, Comet, I assure you.” Ann tries to soothe her neck further, but she doesn’t get much time to relax as Flesher is on the move, fighting his way out of the armbar almost immediately by maneuvering his small body around Annie’s, and eventually lashing out with a palm strike to Annie’s temple, temporarily stunning her and breaking any pressure left on Tom’s arm. Flesher backs up, waiting for Ann to get to her feet--which she does--as Tom charges forward, bringing his leg up for a Yakuza kick… …which ANN GRABS! SPINS FLESHER AROUND! Kick to the midsection! Double underhook! “DAYYYYYYYYYYYBREAK!” the crowd screams as Onita brings Flesher up and down with the Daybreak pedigree! The fans jump into the air at impact, and Annie turns Tom over for the pinfall! “Yes, Annie will win this! She’s got this won!” Comet screams with something resembling confidence. Ced Ordonez falls to the mount and counts in unison with the fans. ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THREEEEEEEEEEEE NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Ordonez flashes a two at the timekeeper as he notices Duran streaking in, dropping a big leg on the back of Onita’s head! The crowd engulfs the Notorious One with boos for interfering once again in the match, but this time the Grappler does something about it! Matthews enters the ring and makes a beeline for Duran, clotheslining John over the top when he reaches a vertical base! The momentum of the clothesline sends Charlie over as well, however, and they both sprawl to the floor! Allison is in shock over the near pinfall of Annie over Tom, and the fans are still buzzing over that near fall. Annie picks Tom up off the ground, but Flesher lashes out with a forearm right to the injured neck of Onita! Ichiban is just stunned long enough to be put into a front waistlock by Flesher. “YES! NOW THIS IS IT, COMET!” Riley corrects his announcing partner. Grappler tries to whip Duran into the ringsteps, only to be reversed by Duran as the SWF Champion crashes into the steps, knocking them off their alignment as the steps are strewn about. Meanwhile, Tom looks at the crowd and then stares at Allison a moment before lifting Annie up in the air and then coming straight down! “EGO BUSTER!” Riley screams at the top of his lungs as Annie’s head bounces off the mat. “She had it! Annie had the match won!” “NOT ANYMORE!” Riley seems on the edge of insanity as his main man covers Annie and Ced Ordonez counts. ONE!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!! THREE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Philosopher Kings’ “I Am The Man” blares over the PA as Flesher gets back to his feet, raising his arms in victory as Duran slides into the ring. Ordonez raises the hands of both men to a vicious round of boos, as Annie holds her neck in pain, Allison slowly goes over to check on Annie, as Grappler tries to recover after being thrown into the steps. “Here are your winners, JOHN DURAN AND THE SUPERIOR ONE, TOM FLESHER!!!!!!!” “Those are your winners at Battleground too, Comet! Mark my words, Tom Flesher will not only make a magnificent return to PPV at Battleground, but John Duran will be, without a shadow of a doubt, the NEXT SWF World Heavyweight Champion!” “Whether or not that is true, Robert, remains to be seen! All I know is that we are running out of time! For Bobby Riley and everyone in the SWF studios, goodnight, and see you at Battleground, live in less than a week!” The camera fades to black on the proud faces of Tom Flesher and John Duran. SWF SMARKDOWN COPYRIGHT 2004 WWW.THESWF.NET

"Kibagami's a wreck," Riley observes, a little stunned at what's just taken place. "I can't believe this, Robert!" shouts Comet, appalled. "That... that our own commissioner--a man HAND PICKED by 'Grand Slam' Mark Stevens--could purpetrate such a villainous act on Nathaniel Kibagami!" There is no awed hush or shocked silence in the crowd. Only jeering. The ire of watching the interim commissioner walk down and demolish a fan-favourite has boiled over. "Ki... ba... gami..." breathes Zenon into the microphone, his chair clattering to the ground. "Wake up. WAKE THE FUCK UP!" More jeers. "This is intolerable," mutters Comet. "I cannot stand for these vile actions!" "Your call appears to being answered, Comet," says Riley, jerking his head towards a group of road agents and referees who are making their way down the ramp and to ringside. Alex notices them too, darting his eyes to the entrance and point out a finger. "STOP!" he shouts. "STOP RIGHT FUCKING NOW OR YOU WON'T HAVE JOBS TOMORROW!" Immediately the refs and agents halt at the bottom of the ramp, as fire in Alex's eyes flickers back to Kibagami. Nathaniel himself has crawled into a corner facing the entrance, looking a little dazed. A few seams of blood run down his face, and his open mouth his painted red, the effects of the chair shots and the match with Janus, respectively. With slightly glazed eyes, he regards Alex with scorn. "You can't even get back to your feet, can you?" snarls Alex. "Not so fucking big, tough and powerful anymore, huh? You can't even shake off a few pussy chair shots today!" There is more booing. Kibagami says nothing. "This cannot stand," says Comet. "This is a complete travesty, Robert! That our commissioner could--" "YOU TWO!" barks Zenon, taking a few steps towards the commentators. "I don't want to hear another word! SHUT UP!" Miserably, Cyclone obliges. Alex turns his head back to Nathaniel and snorts. "I'm so SICK of you, Kibagami! I'm sick and tired of everything! I'm sick of your voice, I'm sick of you face, I'm sick of watching you, and I'm sick of hearing about you from these peolple!" Zenon finishes by pointing out into the crowd. The jeers intensify, and a chant starts... SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... "SHUT UP!" Zenon screams, his voice shooting up in pitch. He focuses back in on Kibagami, who chuckles softly. "Rgh... you may have only been back for a few weeks, Kibagami, but you're all I've seen for months. You ruined everything, Kibagami! It's all your fault! You destroyed the Midnight Carnival! You crippled Raynor! You drove Edwin off, and then sucked him back in just so you could finish destroying him!" Zenon's voice wavers, nearly breaking. He shudders with anger, hatred that hasn't found a way out for almost two years. The mocking chants continue. SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... "GODDAMN IT! SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!" Zenon screams again, then looks down at the mat, breathing heavily. He returns quickly to Kibagami. "Y... you see!? THIS is what you've done to ME, Kibagami! Everything's spinning out of control just because you're here... I can't handle it!" Kibagami mouths 'You never could've handled this job,' which makes Zenon seethe. "YES I COULD!" He shouts. "I could've if you weren't HERE! But... but you're always here, aren't you? You're always in MY LIFE!" Kibagami shakes his head and tries to speak, but Alex shushes him. "You're always here, Kibagami... and HERE IS MY LIFE! No matter how much I don't want it to be! No matter how much I grew to hate it! No matter how much..." Alex trails off, then scowls. "I blame you Nathaniel. You've hurt me in a way that no mere needle could, no matter how many times it ever tore through your skin. And... and then what? I sat back, broken, and watched you... recieve love? You don't know love! You didn't deserve it! Then find redemption from all these FUCKING SHEEP?" The booing intesifies as Alex points to the crowd again. "You've never reconciled ANYTHING in you life!! How... how have you earned that!? And then, even after you recieved ALL that... you pissed it away! You... you let it slip..." Alex chokes. SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... Zenon simmers, hearing the cheers, but he chooses to ignore them. Biting his lip, he brings the mic back to his lips. "You disgust me, Kibagami. Everything about you is filthy and corroded. And... and thanks to you everything about me is mildewed and broken away. And yet, after all this... after all you've done... you recieved the greatest gift and the most insulting thing I have ever witnessed... a second chance." The words flow out of Alex's mouth like from a ceaspool of bile. Shaking his head sadly, his eyes stay fixed on Kibagami with nothing but pure, vile hatred. Real hatred. But Kibagami's face shows nothing at all. Alex trembles as he sees this, not knowing whether his words are having any effect. "Okay... no more dramatic speeches. None of this shit matters to you, does it?" Alex spits. "You don't care, do you!? That's... that's fine," Zenon breathes, his manner showing this clearly infuriates him even more. "I'm going to solve this, and solve you once and for all, Kibagami. I can't fire you; I know this. You know this. But... this contract isn't binding to any number of shows--you can terminate it of your own free will." Alex pauses. "Or through the will of a doctor's. I've decided that perhaps... this is best. I cannot fire you, Nathan, because that would be too easy. You're not good enough for anything easy. But I have the authority to finally put the two of us together in the very midst of this thing we love and hate so much," Zenon spits, pointing to the ring. "I'm going to resolve this, Nathaniel, and I'm going to put you out of this fed, out of my life, and out of this awful misery you're so intent on surrounding everyone with. At Battleground, there will be one man left standing... one man still left intact." Alex pauses again, his speech having quieted. "You've forgotten the humility of being broken, Nathaniel... "...but unlike me, there will be no peices of you left to put back together." Alexander Zenon takes one last look at Nathaniel Kibagami with those same, hateful eyes... and is returned the same emotionless expression. Dropping the mic to the mat with a slight buzz of feedback, he turns around and slowly begins to make his way out of the ring, wading through the jeers and parting the massing of referees and road agents at the bottom of the ramp like the red sea. In the ring, Kibagami finally allows himself to smile. And then, to laugh.

SWF Smarkdown is back on the air in three. Two. One. "RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" The cheering of the fans is the first thing that's heard as SWF Smarkdown comes back on the air! The cameras pan around the Arena in Oakland California, catching the fans bustling at ringsides to those who are so high up they're nearly in the rafters! They cheer and scream, clearly excited to be here, and they're all waving their usual plethora of signs. From "Fear The River Dragon" to "MVS Still Sucks", from "Ichiban Supporter" to "Notoriously Lame!", the signs are also out in force. The pirouetting cameras catch many of these signs as well as others, as they pan down towards the announce table. Everyone's favourite duo of announcers is waiting patiently as the camera moves to focus on them. "Welcome BACK citizens and fans! I'm CYCLOOOOOOONE COMET!" the superhero exults. "And I'm Bobby Riley." the ambiguously gay co-announcer adds. "We've had one fantastic night so far! We've seen Citizens Aecas and Night bloody the arena in a brutal hardcore bout, and Wild and Dangerous take on the In Crowd in a ladder match! As well as that, we have a tag team main event with Citizens Flesher and Duran teaming against Citizens Onita and Matthews!" "Which of course the Notorious Superiors will win." "Perhaps, Robert. But up next we have a match that looks to almost be history repeating itself, with the none-too-successful returning Citizen Kibagami taking on Citizen Bailey." "Something tells me, Comet, this match won't be pretty. Kibagami, whatever you want to say about him being pure, is probably number one on that psycho Janus' hitlist." As Comet acknowledges Riley's comment with a worried nod, the camera pans towards the ring. Funyon stands in the middle dressed as always in a natty looking tuxedo, and he lifts his microphone, voice bellowing into the air. "The following contest is a SINGLES match, scheduled for ONE fall!" Even as Funyon's voice trails off, fog is beginning to billow from the entranceway. The haunting notes that begin Nevermore's "The River Dragon Has Come" echo through the air, as the Smarktron crackles and stutters, showing nothing but static. The fans waited with baited breath, knowing what's coming. The sound of the song begins to change, and as the distortion kicks in... *BAM!* ...every light in the arena flares bright white! The fans shy away, screaming and shielding their eyes while cheering. As the light clears, the familiar burning red ankh appears on the Smarktron, prompting the crowd to raise their cheering a little more. "Today, the warning came in the flood..." As the song begins, a familiar figure steps through the light and the fog. Ignoring the sound of the cheering fans, the River Dragon's expression is grim. The lights return to their usual level as Kibagami strides down the ramp, rolling into the ring and climbing the turnbuckles. He poses with his arms in the familiar crucifix position as Funyon makes the announcement. "Introducing first, hailing from Phoenix Arizona! Standing at six-foot-five and weighing two-hundred-and-sixty-five pounds! The River Dragon... NATHAAAAAANIEL KIBAAAAGAMIIIIIIIIIII!" The fans roar as the sound of Nevermore fades away, and Kibagami jumps off the turnbuckles, striding across the ring. Leaning with his back on the ropes, he keeps his eyes on the entrance ramp. The former Silent One knows who his opponent is, and he's not looking forward to this encounter. The lights begin to dim, but they suddenly drop completely out. The fans' cheering fades off into a confused silence as blue pyrotechnics fountain up on either side of the ramp, showering it with azure sparks. And then the song begins, softly. "Consumed with memories... That preceded today..." This isn't Killswitch Engage's "When Darkness Falls". "Given a chance to bereave... Life that's slipping AWAAAAY!" This is Fear Factory's "Resurrection". And that can only mean one thing. "Robert, I was hoping Citizen Bailey wasn't telling the truth earlier tonight." Comet winces. "Well guess what, spandex boy? He was telling the truth, and now Nathan's in a lot of deep <bleep>" Riley chortles, the censors catching his coarse language. As the familiar white-trenchcoated figure stalks from back stage, he tosses his trenchcoat away in mid-stride. The camera picks up the red gleam in the seven foot Australian's eyes. The way he moves, the way his eyes see nothing but the man who is in the ring. Funyon even calls out correctly, with a quaver in his voice, as the monster strides down the ramp. "Hailing from Sydney Australia, his opponent! At seven-foot-two and weighing three hundred and sixty pounds! THE SMARTMARKS WRESTLING FEDERATION INTERCONTINENTAL TELEVISION CHAMPION! THE HELL MACHINE! JAAAAAAAANUUUUUUUS!" The crowd lets out a thunderous boo at the announcement, and Janus strides through the shower of blue light to stop at the bottom of the ramp to throw his arms into the air. Blue fire explodes from the turnbuckles, and as the lights return to normal, the Hell Machine rolls under the bottom rope and rises to his feet. He cracks his neck from side to side and points at Kibagami, who stares right back evenly. Between them, referee Matthew Kivell looks mildly nervous. The Hell Machine and the River Dragon both know what they're up against, and they stare at each other, waiting. And then Kivell finally has the courage to wave for the bell. *DING DING DING!* The River Dragon and the Hell Machine collide almost instantly, locking hands in a collar-and-elbow tieup. With the strength advantage on his side, Janus begins slowly starts to force Kibagami down. But Nathan is far from helpless, and starts bringing his knees up sharply into the seven foot Australian's abdomen. Janus grunts in pain, as one particularly sharp knee doubles him over. The River Dragon applies a headlock, then turns side on to the behemoth and hooks an arm and leg, pulling his opponent up and then back-first into the ground with a russian legsweep! He then rolls into a mounted position and lifts his arm, before delivering a stiff chop to the Hell Machine's throat. Janus makes a strangled sound as the River Dragon lifts his arm and delivers another stiff chop, but before a third blow can strike home, the Hell Machine's right arm comes off the mat to catch Kibagami in the side of the face with a Knuckle Bomb! "Citizens Janus and Kibagami will be pulling no punches here tonight, folks..." Comet murmurs. "That's a good thing, because Janus will tear that washed up has-been limb from limb." Riley snorts. As the River Dragon rolls onto the mat and holds his jaw, the Hell Machine sits up and rubs his throat with a cough. He rises to his feet and immediatley leans on the ropes, before bouncing back and extending a huge leg. But the legdrop finds nothing but mat as the Slaughterer rolls out of the way, and Kibagami is quicker on his feet than Janus is. He hits the ropes as the Hell Machine begins to climb upright again, swinging out his arm for a deadly Burning Lariat that misses its mark by a hair as the seven foot Australian lowers his head. He turns around and lifts his boot for the expected return of Nathaniel Kibagami, and the River Dragon runs right into the big boot as his yakuza kick catches Janus right in the jaw! The crowd ooos as the Hell Machine stumbles back while Nathan hits the mat, climbing back to his feet as quickly as possible. "YAAAAAAAAAKUZA KICK!" Comet bellows. "And a big boot." Riley says more calmly. Seeing his foe is off balance, the Slaughterer moves in, ducking under a lariat attempt. He catches the arm and turns his body, and with a grimace on his face, he executes a perfect ippon seionage! Janus crashes to the mat as Kibagami completes the shoulder throw, and the River Dragon immediatley drops a knee into the elbow of the arm he still holds. He grinds said knee into the elbow of the Hell Machine, stopping only when the giant begins to blindly reach over to grab him. Kibagami retreats a short distance, watching from behind as Janus sits up again. The Australian slowly begins to rise to his vertical base, unable to see where his opponent is. Stealthily, the River Dragon comes up behind the Hell Machine and reaches up with an arm, and drops him down with a hard reverse DDT! But he then lifts Janus' head off the canvas a little, and cranks back with a dragon sleeper! "Dragon DDT by Citizen Kibagami! If he wants any chance at defeating his opponent tonight, he's going to have to pick a part and stick with it. Considering how the dragon sleeper works the neck..." "Since when have you seen JANUS go down to a submission, Comet?" Riley smirks. "I believe the tapes show him tapping out to Citizen Crow, Robert." Comet replies. "...Shut up." As Kibagami cranks back on the dragon sleeper, Kivell asks Janus if he wants to give up. In response, the Hell Machine simply snarls gutturally and attempts to sit up further. The Slaughterer lets him, driving a knee into the sitting monster's spine and continuing to wrench back on the sleeper. Slowly bending his legs, Janus tries to stand up. Sensing his predicament, the River Dragon pulls hard on the sleeper, elicting a yell from the beginning-to-fade monster. As Janus begins to gradually push himself up straight, the River Dragon releases his sleeper and backs off, leaving the Hell Machine shaking his head hard. For the second time, Kibagami begins to sneak up on his opponent, but this time Janus knows he's there and spins around with a rolling lariat attempt. But for the second time, the former Silent One avoids the arm, grabbing it and turning his body in preparation for another ippon seionage. But the Hell Machine is having none of it, and snaps his head down, cracking it into the back of Kibagami's with a headbutt! As Nathan stumbles forward, Janus pulls his arm free and thrusts it and his other arm under the River Dragon's, locking his hands against Kibagami's neck in a full nelson. And in one hard, smooth motion, the Hell Machine snaps his body over and back, taking Nathaniel Kibagami on a trip to the Sydney Harbour Bridge! The Slaughter's head hits the canvas hard as Janus bridges for the first pinfall attempt of the match. ONE! ... .... ..... TWO...KICKOUT!! The crowd bursts into life, letting out thunderous boos at the Hell Machine as he releases the bridge and begins climbing upright. "COME ON NAY-THAN!" "WE WANT TER-RENCE!" "COME ON NAY-THAN!" "WE WANT TER-RENCE!" At the announce table, Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley watch Janus stalk around the ring, and lift a giant middle finger to the crowd. He finally takes up position in one of the corners, and hunches down in a familiar position. Those blood-red eyes zero on in the form of his opponent, as Nathaniel Kibagami grimaces and starts pushing himself up, holding the back of his neck with one hand. "Citizen Kibagami is remarkably tough, Robert, but Citizen Janus is horribly powerful AND knows of Citizen Kibagami's neck problem!" "Yes, but we've seen what attacking his neck does to the washed up old fogey! We might actually see a decent fight here!" Riley chortles. "Get him, Janus!" The Hell Machine definitely seems to oblige the ambiguously gay co-announcer, bursting out of the corner with a full head of steam as he charges towards the slowly turning River Dragon. And Kibagami misses his chance to counterattack, taking a three hundred and sixty pound shoulder to the ribs that drives him all the way back into the turnbuckle! Janus presses his shoulder into the ribs of the Slaughterer, before moving back and straightening up. He takes a step or two back, apparently measuring his opponent, then draws his right arm back in preparation for a thunderous Knuckle Bomb. But as Janus swings the mighty punch at his opponent's head, the eyes of the River Dragon come out of their haze of pain and snap into focus. Dropping and rolling past the Hell Machine, Kibagami avoids having his head pulverised, and the ring ropes shake as Janus pounds nothing but padded turnbuckle. He shakes the pain out of his hand before he turns around, looking for his opponent. The Slaughterer is waiting, however, and announces his presence the best way he knows how. *CRACK* "Citizen Kibagami certainly knows how to kick, Robert." Comet winces at the sound of boot on flesh. *CRACK* "I'll agree Comet... but like that will stop someone like Janus..." Riley murmurs. The first stiff kick strikes the Hell Machine in the ribcage, and drives him back into the turnbuckle. The second kick makes Janus jerk and wrap his arms around his ribs, leaving Nathaniel with the opening he needs. He plants one foot on the bottom rope, his hands on the top, and leaps into the air with a beautiful springboard gamengiri! The hard kick smashes right into the side of the Hell Machine's head, and one can almost see the stars swirling around his noggin. The crowd claps and cheers for the River Dragon, who doesn't pause to acknowledge the fans. He grabs one huge arm and whips his bulky opponent out of the corner and into the ropes, hitting the opposite ropes himself... ...and SCORING with a DEADLY, VICIOUS, NECK-CRACKING, BONE-RATTLING BURNING LARRRRRRIAAAATOOOOOO! The sheer impact of the move makes the Hell Machine slam into the canvas, eyes rolling back in his head. The Slaughterer's momentum carries him into the ropes, where he leans for several moments to catch his breath. Behind him, the Hell Machine's eyes are still rolled back in his head, but they abruptly roll forward again. As consciousness returns... the monster rolls over slowly and begins to climb up to his feet. The gasps and yells of the fans warn Kibagami however, and the River Dragon turns around to see Janus halfway to his feet with a snarl on his face. Unintimidated, Nathaniel pivots and slams a kick straight into the Australian's face, and while he's dazed, cinches on a front facelock and begins wrenching! Although he commonly uses it for grounding cruisers, Kibagami knows this will aggravate the damage he's already done to Janus' neck. "And Citizen Kibagami going back to that neck with a simple front facelock! If he keeps working Citizen Janus' neck like this, he will be easy prey for a deadly move such as the triangle choke!" Comet calls excitedly. "And all Janus needs to do is break Kibagami's neck with some well placed blows." Riley mutters. As he cranks on the Hell Machine's neck, the Slaughterer fails to notice the rising arms on either side of his waist. With a guttural sound, Janus clamps his arms down and pushes upright, hoisting the River Dragon into the air. Pulling his head out of the front facelock, the seven foot Australian glares up into the steady eyes of Nathaniel Kibagami, and then just throws him down hard with a high-angle spinebuster! The Hell Machine easily folds the River Dragon's legs over his head in a jack-knife pin, leaning all three hundred and sixty pounds of weight down. ONE! ... .... ..... TWO!! ... ....KICKOUT!! With a tremendous heave of his legs, Nathaniel Kibagami kicks out of the pinfall attempt, pushing Janus away and trying to climb upright as fast as he can. But it's not fast enough to stop his arm being grabbed, and the Slaughterer finds himself whipped hard across the ring. The Hell Machine swings an arm out as he comes back, turning with the momentum and swinging the River Dragon high into the air for a spinning chokeslam. But as he swings through the air, Kibagami plants one of his signature stiff kicks right into Janus' forehead and sends him reeling back, dropping Nathan to the canvas. Immediatley, the Slaughterer rises to his feet and throws himself into the air for a gamengiri... ...but Janus' arm snaps out to grab it, leaving the River Dragon with only one leg to stand on! With the Hell Machine glowering at him, Kibagami springs up with his other leg for an enzugiri, only to find that leg caught as well! With a roar, Janus lifts Nathan high into the air, and just CRATERS him back down into the mat with what possibly could be the hardest powerbomb ever delivered! Taking the brunt on his upper back and some on the neck, the Slaughterer's body jerks and convulses from the impact. But Janus doesn't stop there, gritting his teeth bestially and heaving, dragging Kibagami up into the air once more. And this time, he releases the powerbomb, throwing the River Dragon down with a frightening amount of force! This time, the former Silent One hits the mat HARD on his shoulders, legs hanging in the air before falling to the mat as the impact shakes the ring. Everyone in the crowd, and the announcers, all wince at the stunning impact of the move. The Hell Machine stumbles back, shaken off balance, and he steps back to the ropes and carefully leans on them for support. "Citizen Janus with a HELLISHLY strong double powerbomb after blocking a gamengiri AND an enzuigiri." Comet murmurs. "He could have dropped him straight on his head with a you-know-what when he caught him, but he didn't!" Riley blurts. "You're right, Robert." Comet blinks, noting that Janus is shaking his head aggressively and pressing his fingers against his temples. But whatever it is, it seems to pass as the Hell Machine locks his eyes on the prone form of Nathaniel Kibagami. Reaching down, the seven foot Australian drags the Slaughterer upright, holding him up by the hair. Dazed and in pain, the River Dragon finds himself cinched into a front facelock, and hoisted up into a vertical suplex. The crowd hushed as they recognised the position Kibagami was in, and as Nathaniel opened his eyes and saw the ground looking back up at him, he acted. Swinging to life with a burst of energy, feeling pain running through every inch of his back, Kibagami bends his legs and kicks the air, swinging his body out of the deadly vertical position. Janus releases the front facelock as the River Dragon flips to land on his feet, momentarily ignoring the suffering his body was in after that double powerbomb. With adrenaline surging in his veins, the Slaughterer strikes with harsh, brutal precision. With a *CRACK*, his boot smacks into the back of the giant's left knee, sending him stumbling forward and down to his remaining knee. A second hard boot to the other knee took the Hell Machine's legs from under him. Janus immediatley straightens up, only to take two more brutal-sounding kicks to his back - one to the kidneys, one to the upper back. Arching his spine, the monster growls in pain... *KA-RACK!* ...and Kibagami plants a harsh boot straight into the back of his opponent's head! Janus' growl trails off and he wavers on his knees, expression glazed. Like a falling tree, the seven foot Hell Machine topples forward to the mat. The crowd lets loose with a rousing cheer for the River Dragon, and he smiles in an almost grim satisfaction as he presses his hands to his back. Janus lies on the canvas, twitching slightly but otherwise unmoving. "And with one hard twist and plenty of his signature kicks, Citizen Kibagami manages to swing the match back into his favour! I think he may have knocked Citizen Janus clean out!" "Oh please, Janus has a thick skull. Besides, Nathan looks like he's going to need a chiropractor for his back after this match. Hell, he'll probably need his neck checked too." "If Citizen Janus isn't defeated here and now, Robert, I cannot bear to consider what he might to Citizen Kibagami." The River Dragon seems to heed the words of the spandex-clad announcer, as he drops to his knees and after a struggle, rolls the Hell Machine onto his back. Sprawling across the behemoth's body and hooking one great leg, Nathaniel Kibagami looks up at Matthew Kivell who drops down to ensure Janus' shoulders are on the mat, and begins the count. ONE! ... .... ..... TWO!! ... .... .....KICKOUT!! "BBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" The clear annoyance of the crowd is made manifest in that single word. The Slaughterer looks at the great arm lifting off the canvas, then lifts his eyes to the refree. Kivell signals a two count, and Nathaniel shrugs. Rising to his feet as Janus rolls onto his stomach, Kibagami kicks the giant. Hitting him square in the side of the head, the blow knocks the seven foot Australian to the mat on his side. Another quick punt to his chest rolls the giant over, and Nathaniel drops to the mat to take advantage. He pulls Janus' left arm away from his body, positions his legs, and falls back. The end result has the Hell Machine being choked out by legs wrapped around his throat, and his arm hyperextending across the River Dragon's chest in the deadly move known as the triangle choke! The moment the move is applied, Janus springs to life, clawing at his throat with his good arm. But the vice-like grip of the Slaughterer's legs and arms seems to leave him no other option. He lifts his arm high, high in the air. The fans hold their breath as the Hell Machine's arm hangs suspended above the canvas, trembling...and then it LASHES out, wrapping firmly around the bottom rope and pulling him up against it! Instantly, Matthew Kivell starts counting, and Kibagami releases the hold with a disgusted look. He couldn't believe he'd made such an elementary mistake, and neither can the fans with the thunderous amount of boos raining down on the ring. "Citizen Janus would have been beaten right there!" Comet calls. "He uses the ropes as the path of least resistance and escapes the triangle choke!" "Kibagami fucked up" Riley chortles with glee. "It'll happen again. Cradling his arm close to his body, the Hell Machine makes his way back upright with help from the ropes. The River Dragon moves towards his foe, but his attempt at stealth fails as he takes a boot to the stomach! Janus then wraps his arm around Kibagami's head in preparation for the Everdream implant DDT. But Nathan throws some hard elbows into his opponent's stomach and wraps his arms around him for a gutwrench suplex. And before HE can do anything, a stiff elbow cracks into the back of his neck, making him jerk in pain. Again the arm goes around his head, and this time Janus lifts up and drops Kibagami straight on his face with the Everdream! He maintains the front facelock with an evil grin as he starts pushing himself up. For the second time during the night, the Hell Machine wrenches the River Dragon off his feet into a stalling vertical suplex. And for the second time of the night, the Slaughterer realises the predicament he's in. Once more, he kicks his legs and swings his body, and finds himself released from the front facelock. He thuds to the ground before Janus and fires off a high roundhouse kick... but this lets the Hell Machine go low, gutwrenching Kibagami into the air... ...turning around... ...and DROPPING HIM OVER THE ROPES WITH A GUTWRENCH FALCON ARROW! "HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!" The crowd roars for the sick bump, but quickly goes silent as Nathaniel Kibagami crashes to the thinly matted floor almost directly on his neck. Stumbling back from the ropes, Janus takes a deep breath, cradling his sore left arm as he stares out of the ring. Next to him, Matthew Kivell has no choice but to start the count. ONE! "And with one brutal move, Citizen Janus may have just crippled his opponent and won this match!" Comet calls. TWO! "And what a glorious victory it's going to be." Riley smirks. THREE! FOUR! In the ring, Janus watches with narrowed eyes, as the form of Nathaniel Kibagami begins to stir. The hands and feet of the Slaughterer find the mat and begin pushing up, as the referee continues the count. FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! As Kivell hits seven, the crowd begins a steady "KIB-A-GAMI!" chant, as the River Dragon pushes himself upright with a grimace on his face. Moments before Matty Kivell hits eight, Kibagami dives under the bottom rope and straight into a heavy legdrop across the back of the head from the Hell Machine! As Janus drags Nathaniel upright, however, the Slaughterer begins to once more hammer his arms into his foe's ribcage. Rearing back his right fist, the Hell Machine looks to end this resistance with a Knuckle Bomb, but the River Dragon sees it coming! He ducks under the blow and leaps into the air, leaving a clean imprint of his boot in the seven foot Australian's face as he hits a gamengiri! Janus staggers back and the crowd roars, and Nathaniel moves for the advantage, slamming a hard boot into his opponent's stomach and applying a standing headscissors. "It looks like it's over for Citizen Janus...he's about to take a Fall From Grace!" Comet shouts as the River Dragon drags his three hundred and sixty pound foe off the mat, despite the pain burning in his ribs, and into the air in crucifix position. "Nonsense, Robert! That fogey completely forgot about his opponent's arms!" Riley cackles, as Janus pulls his right arm free from the crucifix position and nearly puts Kibagami's lights out with a Knuckle Bomb. The Slaughterer drops his opponent off his shoulders, and Janus lands in a crouch. He lifts his eyes to the dazed Kibagami as he tries to shake off the effects of the brutal Knuckle Bomb, but it's too late. Like a great white shark rising from the depths, the Hell Machine spreads his arms wide and clamps them down around the River Dragon's arm and chest, compressing them with extreme force. Nathaniel Kibagami cries out in pain and thrashes helplessly as the pain surges through his body. "No Fall From Grace, spandex boy, it's time for the Hell Crush!" Riley cheers. "The move is known for being evil, Robert. Citizen Janus is capable of immense feats of strength if necessary..." Comet mutters. "His definition of necessary is 'whenever he feels like it', Comet." Riley smiles. Writhing and crying out in the indomitable grasp of his opponent, Kibagami shakes his head violently when the referee gives him the option of quitting. Janus simply wrenches away on the submission, content to slowly crush the River Dragon's arms and vitals, until he realises something. His opponent isn't responding anymore. Kivell orders him to release the hold as Nathaniel has gone completely limp, and the Hell Machine throws the battered body to the mat. Kivell as always checks the arm... It drops ONCE! The crowd begins to chant for Kibagami to wake up and return to battle, smelling the possible failure of their champion. Under the Hell Machine psychotic, yet watchful eye, referee Matthew Kivell lifts the arm again. It drops TWICE! The crowd chants begin to pick up, solidfying into a definite "KIB-A-GAM-I!" chant. The noise is an effort to bring their hero back to life. So he can crush the evil monster, as the monster himself had tried to crush the River Dragon. But now the big man is smiling devilishly, and Kivell is finding it unnerving. Hurriedly, he picks up the arm for the third and final time... IT DROPS THRICE, AND THE CROWD'S CHANTING FOR NATHANIEL KIBAGAMI DIES WITH IT! *DING DING DING!* "Ladies and gentlemen! The winner of this bout via submission! The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation Intercontinental Television Champion....the Hell Machine...JAAAAAAAANUUUUS!" "Consumed with memories... That preceded today... Given a chance to bereave... Life that's slipping AWAAAAY!" As Fear Factory's "Resurrection" belts out of the speakers, Janus simply raises his arms into the air to a shower of boos from the fans. The Hell Machine simply shrugs off this negative noise, striding around the ring with his arms raised, turning his head towards the losing man. The sound of music and the booing fans has injected some life into the River Dragon, who begins pulling himself back up slowly, holding his ribs. Janus watches with a smirk, contemplating more damage, when... "Wait a minute, Robert! Who's that charging down the ramp?" Comet calls. "It's the interim Commissioner! What the hell is he doing here, and with a steel chair no less?" Riley blinks in surprise. "I do not know, but I doubt the ring is a safe place to be right for anyone!" Comet responds. Alexander Zenon slides into the ring with the steel chair, and comes face to chest with the Hell Machine. Janus glowers ominously, but the interim Commissioner brushes past him as if he weren't there. Along with the wondering fans, the Hell Machine turns around to watch Zenon, as he taps the chair on the mat and stands patiently to the side of Nathaniel Kibagami, who pulls himself up against the turnbuckles to... *CRACK* ...take a thunderous chairshot to the face from Zenon! Blood splashes through the air from the force of the blow, and Alex pulls the weapon and swings it again! Again the brutal steel weapon finds its mark, this time on Kibagami's jaw. Zenon pulls the chair back a third and final time, and finds it plucked from his grasp. He turns around to stare up at the ominous visage of Janus. "Citizen Janus! Is he standing up for Citizen Kibagami?" Comet wonders. "I doubt that, Comet..." *KA-RACK!* "...he just wanted the third shot" Riley finishes. Handing the chair back to the interim Commissioner, the Hell Machine thrusts his arms into the air. This momentarily bathes the entire arena in alternating darkness and light as blue flames explode from the turnbuckles. "Resurrection" continues to wail out over the speakers, and the giant Australian stops to sling his earlier discarded trenchcoat over his shoulder. The camera focuses on the big man walking backstage, but then swings back to the ring... ...where Interim Commissioner Alexander Zenon stares with utter loathing and disgust into the pained and angry eyes of Nathaniel Kibagami...

The crowd rumbles and cheers as SWF Smarkdown comes back on the air. But the sound is muted, for we don't have a clear view of the ringside area from here. We're in the Commissioner's office, where the interim Commissioner is sitting. Alexander Zenon looks haggard, the stresses of his job clearly getting to him in more ways than one. It's to his credit he doesn't jump out of his seat when the door abruptly slams open. The seven foot figure there has more emotion on his face than usual. "Alex! Thank the gods you're here." Terrence Bailey says, swinging the door shut and stepping across the intervening space quickly. "Terrence... what is it?" Zenon mumbles, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Terrence slams his hands down on the table, squeezing something in his right hand. "Call the match off. I can't do it." "What? Are you sick? You're not injured..." Zenon looks up at the towering Australian. And sees the nervousness in his eyes. "Call it off." the Australian repeats. "I can't wrestle Kibagami. Not now... not ever..." "You're scared." Zenon responds with an almost snide smile. "Of him." "THAT'S FUCKING NONSENSE AND YOU KNOW IT!" the Australian roars. Zenon stares, stunned into silence by the sheer volume of Terrence's voice. The big man takes a deep breath, almost shivering as he stares at the interim Commissioner almost hauntedly. "I don't have any problem with it, but He does. He absolutely HATES Nathaniel. Even after He and Thoth spiked him with a Rage Unleashed, He still hates him. If I get in that ring with Kibagami tonight, I won't be wrestling, Zenon. It'll be Janus." The interim Commissioner tilts his head, staring up at the Australian. Terrence again squeezes something in his right hand and stares back down, awaiting Zenon's answer. Alex makes a show of coughing and adjusting his clothes, and rubbing the bridge of his nose, before meeting the Anti-Heel Machine's gaze. Finally taking a breath, Alex opens his mouth. "I don't have a problem with it. I'll even change your music for you." "...." the Anti-Heel Machine looks grimly at the commissioner, trembling, and then he slams his right hand into the table, glaring. "ARE YOU SOME SORT OF FOOL, ZENON!?" "No." Alex replies sharply. "I'm the Commissioner, and what I say goes around here." Terrence goes ominously quiet, and slowly opens his right hand. Within it lies a black rectangular case, that he lies almost reverently on the table. As Alex watches, the Anti-Heel Machine opens the case and lifts something from them, turning away and lifting his hands to his face. He lowered his hands, still trembling, and then slowly turned around once more. Blood red eyes stared back at Alexander Zenon. "I don't take responsibility for the damage I do to Nathaniel Kibagami, Zenon." Janus growls darkly. "Do you understand? I am going to go into that ring tonight, and I am going to BREAK him. I will drop him on his head, I will pound his spine and ribs. I will completely DESTROY him. I will do whatever it takes to ensure he stays down. I hope you are willing to deal with the consequences of that." With a growl, the Hell Machine turns his back on the interim Commissioner and slams the door into the wall when he opens it. Surprisingly, he lets the door swing closed behind him, leaving Alexander Zenon alone with his thoughts. Grimacing, Alex rubs the bridge of his nose and looks at the empty contact lens case still sitting on his desk. He doesn't say a word as we fade to black.

Oakland is buzzing with excitement as Smarkdown’s theme thumps across the arena, bringing forth the sound of over nineteen thousand cheering fans as the show returns from commercial break! The main focus, however, is not what signs the crowd has in their possession, but rather… what looms ten feet above the ring - the Tag Team Title belts, gleaming as the spotlights pass over them! “Welcome back, Citizens,” bellows the voice of Cyclone Comet, “and you are JUST in time for a ladder match for the Tag Team gold!” The view moves away from the Tag Titles, getting a full view of ringside where several ladders have randomly been placed before cutting to our Dynamic Announcing Duo! “The new SWF Tag Team Champions - The In Crowd - made a startling debut on Lockdown, capturing the Tag Titles in their first team match,” continues Comet. “And now on their second show, they will defend against the definition of tag team wrestling, Wild and Dangerous!” “Definition of Tag Team wrestling, my ass,” spits Bobby. “If anything, Wild and Dangerous are the definition of cheating scoundrels.” “Well you won’t be able to cry foul this time, Citizen Robert, as all four men will be in the ring at the same time. Any and all double teaming is perfectly legal tonight.” “Legal double teams and in a match that clearly favors the challengers,” says Bobby. “Clear proof of more underhanded booking by Commissioner Zenon!” “Enough with the conspiracy theories already,” returns Comet. “Commissioner Z has already stated that he is taking no sides in the SWF. Besides, you dingbat, all four men are pretty much on the same level; they’re all Cruiserweights, so this match is pretty even as far as that goes. And with that, let’s turn this one over to our ring announcer, Funyon, and get this match underway!” Funyon steps into the center of the ring, stirring up this already excited crowd even further. “Ladies and gentlemen,” He says, “the following contest is a Ladder Match for the SMARTMARK WRESTLING FEDERATION WOOOOOORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP!! The way this match is won is by using one of the ladders placed at ringside to reach the titles being suspended above the ring! The man to retrieve the belts wins the match for his team... And now, introducing first, the challengers… ” The house lights slowly fade away, and suddenly, on the SmarkTron™… “WILD!” “DANGEROUS!” The name of this team blast onto the screen as “Y.O.U.” by Method Man and Redman pounds-out across the arena! On the stage, a quick burst of pyro fires off before the two man team of Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous emerge from backstage! “And would you just LISTEN to that,” shouts Comet, as the Arena in Oakland simply erupts! “This crowd is giving up a tremendous ovation here for Wild and Dangerous; the Kings of the Double Team!” “Well, they’re going to need every double team they can get their hands on, Comet,” adds Riley, “because that’s about all they got!” “At a total combined weight of four hundred thirty-one pounds, I give you Wildchild and the SWF Cruiserweight Champion, Johnny Dangerous, they are… WIIIIIILD! AAAAAAAAAAND DAAANGEROUUUUUS!" Wildchild and Johnny slide into the ring and the pair immediately takes to a turnbuckle, pumping their arms out into the crowd. Wildchild points towards the titles then pantomimes a belt around his waist, while Johnny, with the Cruiserweight Title takes it from his waist and holds it out to the fans before handing it off to Referee Anthony Michael Hall for safe keeping. Once more the lights dim and “Y.O.U.” fades away, leaving nothing more than a hiss on the speakers… “And their opponents,” bellows Funyon. BOOOOOOOM!!! Suddenly, gold colored pyrotechnics TEAR across the stage as "Popular" by Nada Surf kicks up igniting a surge of booing from the fans! After the dust has settled and the smoke has cleared, the curtains part and out steps Mike Van Siclen and Todd Cortez with the cockiest damn grins scribbled across their faces! “Weighing in at a combined weight of four-hundred and fifty-seven pounds, they are the current SWF WOOOORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIOOOOONS, “Urban Legend” Todd Cortez and the Spectacle, Mike Van Siclen! They are… THE IIIIIIN CROOOOOOOOOOOOWD!!!” Van Siclen leads the brisk walk down the ramp, pointing his finger into the ring and shouting at its occupants, while Cortez walks at a leisure pace, cracking his knuckles and preparing to battle! “If you remember correctly, Comet,” Riley notes, “Van Siclen told Wildchild several show’s ago that HE and a mystery partner were going to show Wild and Dangerous, then Champions, what Tag Team wrestling was all about! The fact that people like Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous were always in the spotlight will he was getting no attention for all his accomplishments had really grown under MVS’ skin.” “Ahh… your trip down memory lane has in fact jolted my brain,” says Comet. “That was also the same fateful night where Wild and Dangerous fell to the brute strength of the Unholy Trinity.” “Maybe there will be hope for you yet, Comet. Anyway, Van Siclen didn’t get to take the titles from Wild and Dangerous, but the In Crowd did take the titles as foretold, and tonight, Comet… TONIGHT, Mike Van Siclen, along with his partner Todd Cortez, can make GOOD on his word by successfully defending the Tag Team Championship against those two scoundrels Wild and Dangerous and walk into Battleground as the Champions!” "Wildchild hasn't been on SWF television since they lost the Tag Team Titles to the Trinity," notes Comet, "and ever since then, he's had the almost singluar focus of getting his hands on Mike Van Siclen!" "That could work against him," replies Bobby. "If he's obsessed with trying to get revenge on Van Siclen, that means that he's not going to be concentrating on winning the match, which will make it all that much easier for the In Crowd to retain tonight!" As if he could hear Riley's words, Johnny grasps Wildchild's shoulders, imploring him to try to keep a handle on his emotions, and focus on their ultimate goal of regaining the Tag Team Championships. Wildchild nods in agreement as Cortez and Van Siclen climb up the steel steps to enter the ring, but as soon as the Spectacle places one foot on the ring apron, all of his self-control flies out the window! Breaking free of his partner's grip, the Human Hurricane streaks across the ring, diving over the top rope and extends his body as he crashes into Van Siclen... CRASH! ... Knocking them both to the arena floor with a tremendous cross-body block! Cortez looks down and behind him to check on his partner... WHAM! ... Giving the Barracuda enough time to rush across the ring and grab him by the hair, yanking him over top rope and into the ring! Referee Hall alertly orders the timekeeper to start the match, and then deftly dives out of the ring. DING! DING! DING! "This match is underway," shouts Comet, "and Wildchild gets it off to a fast start, as he makes a beeline for Van Siclen!" BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! Wildchild hammers away at Van Siclen's face with a volley of fierce right hands, before pulling him to his feet and grabbing him by the wrist, whipping him across the arena floor, but the Spectacle reverses easily, launching him towards the barricade instead. Wildchild leaps into the air as he begins to run out of real estate to land with both feet on the barricade, and then springs back off, twisting around to face Van Siclen as the Spectacle rushes to approach him, and wraps his legs around Mike's neck before arching his body backwards... CRUNCH! ... Propelling Van Siclen forward, and crumpling his neck against the barricade with a sensational rana! Inside the ring, Johnny grabs Cortez by the wrist and whips him across the ring, lowering his head as he bounces off the ropes... WHACK! ... But the Urban Legend stuns him with a strong clubbing forearm! Cortez falls back into a ready position as Johnny pops back up in pain, and then thrusts his foot forward sharply to deliver a devastating superkick, but the Barracuda ducks at the last second, and knocks Cortez off-balance with a shotei! "What a tremendous battle between Johnny Dangerous and Todd Cortez inside the ring, as Wildchild takes his frustration out on Mike Van Siclen out on the floor!" Wildchild pulls Van Siclen to his feet and drags him back towards the ring apron as Johnny whips Cortez to the ropes inside the ring. The Bahama Bomber leaves Van Siclen standing in front of the ring as he ducks down underneath the ring apron to pull out plunder. As he is rummaging underneath the ring, his partner backpedals towards the edge of the ring as he anticipates Cortez rebounding off the ropes. Lowering his shoulder at the last second, the Barracuda propels Cortez into the air... CRASH! ... And over the top rope, where he crashes into his stunned tag team partner outside the ring! JOHN-NY! JOHN-NY! JOHN-NY! JOHN-NY! "What a heads-up maneuver by the Barracuda," exclaims Comet. "He launched Cortez over the top rope, and right into his partner!" Wildchild, who finally pops up from underneath the ring with a chair in hand, turns around to look at Johnny's handiwork, and then grins happily at his partner. Sliding the chair underneath the bottom rope, he then walks over to Van Siclen and grabs him by the head, leading him over to the ring and sliding him underneath the ropes as well. "Wild and Dangerous have Van Siclen all alone in the ring," shouts Comet. "It looks like it's time for some vintage double teaming!" Johnny and Wildchild each grab Van Siclen by a wrist and launch him into a neutral corner. BANG! The Spectacle crashes out of the corner forcefully, and staggers back across the ring, where the challengers each hook one of their arms underneath his and snatch him off of the canvas, as though delivering a double-hiptoss. However, instead of depositing Van Siclen back onto the mat, Wild and Dangerous step towards the opposite corner as they follow through on the hiptoss motion, depositing the Spectacle in a seated position on the top turnbuckle. "What do you suppose they have in mind," wonders Comet, as the challengers grab Van Siclen by his trunks and immediately lift him back off of the turnbuckle... CRUNCH! ... Before slamming him back into the ring with a modified sheer drop double-powerbomb, slamming him awkardly on his neck! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! "What a tremendous powerbomb by the challengers," exclaims Comet. "The Spectacle took the brunt of that on his neck!" "And with Cortez apparently still down," adds Riley, "the belts appear to be theirs for the taking; but they'd better not waste any time, because they're probably not going to get a better opportunity than this!" Johnny motions to Wildchild to go after the ladders, and makes his way to the edge of the ring to exit, but instead of accompanying his partner, the Caribbean Cruiser turns his attention back to the Spectacle, pulling him to his feet and doubling him over at the waist, before stepping in front of his rival and reaching back to lock his arms around Van Siclen's. "Johnny wants to go after the Tag Team Titles," says Comet, "but Wildchild still has a score to settle with Mike Van Siclen! It looks like he's going for the Wild Ride!" Johnny, upon realizing that Wildchild is still in the ring, turns around to see his partner preparing to deliver his finisher to the Spectacle. "Come on, 'Nic," he shouts. "Later for that, man! I need your help to get the..." WHAM! With Johnny suitably distracted, the recovered Todd Cortez sneaks up behind him and wraps his arms around the Barracuda's waist, lifting him up off the ground and slamming him back into the padded arena floor with a bone-crunching Backdrop Driver! "Brilliant," exclaims Riley. "I told you that Wildchild's obsession was going to come back to bite them, and it has!" Wildchild, seeing his partner in distress, releases the Spectacle and rushes to the corner nearest Cortez, leaping to the top turnbucke as the Urban Legend returns to his feet and propelling himself outside the ring... WHAM! ... Somersaulting forward as he grabs the unsuspecting Cortez by the back of his cortex, and slams him face-first into the concrete floor with a flipping neck snap from the top rope! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! "Whiplash," screams Comet, "Whiplash from the top! Wildchild fell from the heavens like Bellerophon and struck Cortez down with a phenomenal Whiplash!" With his priorities seeming back in order, Wildchild begins to make his way back towards the edge of the ring... WHAM! ... But the Spectacle suddenly springs into action, darting across the ring and diving feet-first at the Bahama Bomber, to nail him in the face with a baseball slide! Wildchild stumbles backwards into the barricade as Van Siclen pulls himself to his feet, stepping out onto the ring apron before the Tropical Tumbler can react... SPLASH! ... And leaping onto the middle rope before springing backwards out to the floor, crashing into Wildchild with a tremendous Asai moonsault! "Great ring awareness on the part of Van Siclen," says Riley, as the Spectacle pulls Wildchild to his feet and drags him over to the ring, rolling him underneath the bottom rope. "Now you're about to see why Mike Van Siclen was the real feature attraction in Catch-22!" Van Siclen slides into the ring and gets to his feet, before pulling the Caribbean to his feet as well with a standard arm wrench then steps forward, whipping him across the ring. Wildchild hits the ropes and SPRINGS~ back towards the Spectacle just as Mike dashes forward, looking for a clothesline… … But Wildchild ducks down at the last moment, sailing right under Mike’s arm. He quickly pops up from behind Van Siclen, latching onto Mike’s neck and bringing him down with a neck breaker! WHAM! “A smart counter by the Wildchild,” says Comet, “and once more Mike Van Siclen’s neck becomes the prime target of the attack!” “What a stupid plan of attack,” snipes Bobby. “Wildchild and Johnny can beat Van Siclen’s neck until it’s turned into gelatin, and I guarantee you that it’s not going to stop him from climbing the ladder.” Lying on the mat, Mike grabs both sides of his neck, grimacing in pain as Wildchild trails off to fetch one of the nearby ladders. He brings it in and places it directly underneath the title belts, gazing up at them as he adjusts the ladder, and finally… Wildchild has the ladder set and ready to go! “But with all that time he spent fiddling with that damned ladder, Van Siclen’s had ample time to recover,” notes Bobby. “Well what’s he doing heading to the corner,” questions Comet. “Wildchild could be up that ladder in less than two seconds!” “He’s getting that chair, duh!” Wildchild barely has one foot on the first rung of the ladder when a surge of booing forces him to swivel his head around, catching an eyeball full of Mike madly snickering as he picks up the chair! He hops down, and charges toward the corner, hoping his speed can get him there before Van Siclen can even figure out that he’s coming! However, that is not to be as Mike is more than aware, and as soon as the Bahama Bomber attempts his patented leg lariat, Van Siclen ducks down and floats around Wildchild, and then stabs the Caribbean in the gut with the edge of the chair, doubling him over! Mike drops the chair to the canvas, then ducks underneath the bent-over Wildchild, grabbing him by the legs as he stands up, and leaving the Tropical Tumbler dangling upside-down off his shoulders. “Bombs away,” Bobby excitedly shouts. “Here comes the Van Slaminator!” Mike then hauls the Wildchild off the mat, hovering him just above the steel chair, and… CRUNCH!!! DRIVES WILDCHILD HEADFIRST INTO THE CHAIR WITH A BACK-TO-BELLY PILEDRIVER!! “VAN SLAMINATOR!” “Since when does a Piledriver have a ‘Slamming’ sound effect,” ask Comet. “Like I’m supposed to know,” Bobby replies. “Ask Van Siclen about it if you want, he made the move up! Anyway, I think that’s all she wrote for Mr. Dub-Cee, and with Johnny and Cortez still trying to recover on the outside, there is nothing to stop Mike from fetching those belts!” “There is still plenty of time for Operative Dangerous to deal with Cortez,” counters the Masked Hero, “or just simply change his focus to MVS before getting to the belts.” “Ha,” snorts Riley. “Johnny couldn’t fight his way out of a wet paper bag let alone Todd Cortez!” Meanwhile, as if to make Bobby eat his words, the Barracuda recovers first, getting the upper hand on Cortez outside the ring! “You were saying,” Comet asks with mock sweetness. “Shut up!” WHACK! Johnny quickly thrusts a rapid series of Shotei Palmstrike’s into the Urban Legend’s forehead, blasting him right between the eyes! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Cortez staggers backward in a complete daze, but as he sees Dangerous closing the distance, he aimlessly swings his fist out… … But Johnny ducks under the blow with relative ease as he wraps his inside arm around Cortez’s back then hikes his foot into the air, NAILING the Urban Legend’s skull with a Scorpion Kick! CRACK! “What a kick,” exclaims Comet, as Cortez goes teetering backward and tumbling over the steel steps. “That’ll take the starch out of you for sure!” “What good is that going to do him though; Van Siclen is already half way up the ladder!” Sure enough, as Bobby pointed out, Mike has made his way up the ladder with a starling quickness, which Johnny also notices. He takes off with a mad dash around the ring, stopping as he lines himself directly up with the side of the ladder… “Hurry up, Johnny,” cries Comet, as Mike reaches the top and fumbles to grab hold of the belts - gently swaying back and forth. “He almost has them!” With the booing reaching an all time high for the evening, Johnny reaches up, grabbing hold of the top rope and pulls himself up to the apron. He vaults to the top rope, and quickly SPRINGS~ off as Mike finally grabs hold of the title belts! Referee Anthony Michael Hall raises his arm up, ready to signal for the bell the second he seems those belts unclipped and the fans move to the edge of their seats, holding their breath… WHAAAM!! AND JOHNNY SLAMS BOTH FEET INTO THE SIDE OF THE LADDER WITH A DROP KICK THAT SENDS THE LADDER TOPPLING ON ITS SIDE!! “TIMBEEEEEEER!” “DEAR GOD, NO,” shrieks Riley. “And Van Siclen is holding for dear LIFE!” The ladder falls onto the top rope, popping Mike off of it and… inadvertently he lands with his throat against the rope, nearly decapitating the poor fellow! He hits and pops up to his feet, grabbing onto his throat with both hands as he thrashes from side to side, utterly gagging in quite the sickening display! “HO-LY SHIT!” “HO-LY SHIT!” “HO-LY SHIT!” Johnny quickly rushes in, taking total advantage of the situation and hauls Mike onto his shoulders with a fireman’s carry takeover, then spins on his heel as he plummets backward… “MIIIIIIIII… ” SA-LAAAM!! … And Johnny completely pulverizes Van Siclen neck and shoulders, slamming him into the canvas with his deadly finishing maneuver! “MI Slam,” barks Comet, as Mike rolls to his side, going underneath the bottom rope and slowly drops to the floor like a sack of spoiled meat! “Somebody call the police,” cries Bobby, “Mike Van Siclen has just been murdered in front of our very own eyes!” “Johnny is the police,” replies Comet. “Sort of… in a way... Well... not really, I guess...” Satisfied that Mike won’t be a problem for the rest of this match, Johnny goes to grab the ladder and reset it underneath the belts, ready to bring those titles back home! Unfortunately, and unbeknownst to him, Todd Cortez has managed to pull himself together enough to still put up a fight! “Oh, don’t count on this one being over yet,” says Bobby. “Todd Cortez is on the move again!” Johnny’s feet barely have the chance to touch the first step of the ladder before the Urban Legend sneaks in from behind and locks his hands around the Barracuda’s waist, stopping Dangerous in his tracks! He gives a quick tug to haul Johnny off the mat, but not before the Secret Agent slings an elbow back, nailing the Champion in the face and freeing himself from the attempted suplex! “What a shot,” exclaims Comet, as Todd Cortez goes staggering backward and Dangerous gives chase. “All the training he endured as a Secret Agent pays off once again, as Johnny’s quick reflexes are second to none!” Johnny grabs onto Cortez’s wrist, then turns to whip him across the ring… but SUDDENLY, the Urban Legend puts his foot down and reverses the whip, sending the Barracuda across the ring instead, and… CRACK! Right into the standing ladder, drawing a huge “OOOOH!” from the Oakland crowd! Johnny takes an aimless few steps backward, holding dearly to his face as Cortez storms across the ring from behind and the ladder timbers to the canvas! He nears Johnny and leaps into the air with a spin as he brings his foot out for a spinning heel kick… WOOSH!! … But out of nothing more than pure instinct, Johnny bellies down to the mat, and Todd’s foot goes coasting just BARELY over Dangerous’ head! Cortez lands on his feet, damning himself for missing a relatively easy kick for a man of his experience then spins back around towards the Barracuda as Johnny gets back to his feet. He stares at his opponent for a second, taking note of the fact that he is standing face to face with another master of the arts… once more… then after some quick thinking he ‘cast his line out’ towards the Barracuda as he assumes the standard Martial Art pose. “The bait’s been cast,” says Comet, “but are the fish biting tonight?” “What the hell is he doing,” mutters Bobby, gawking into the ring with a disgusted look. “This is no place for some Kung Fu showdown!” Johnny hesitates for a moment, but with the crowd’s encouragement, he replies to Cortez’s challenge as he fluidly moves into a martial arts pose himself, prompting a flurry of cheers! “Well I think that is exactly what we are about to get,” Comet replies. “We have two men here who have studied extensively into their respective Martial Art, and finally they have someone in the SWF to take on in today’s KUNG FU CHALLENGE~!” “Oh, for the love of Todd, shut up.” “Which Todd… Cortez or Royal?” In the distant background, Wildchild staggers to his feet and Cortez’s sees this out of the corner of his eye. Quickly he steps in, hoping to thrash Johnny before Wildchild has fully recovered and Johnny moves in as well. The pair circle one another sweeping their hands out in front of them while blowing breaths of air from their mouths. Cortez moves in first, faking with a punch, and Johnny answers with a standard sidekick, falling into the Urban Legend’s trap as Todd drops down to the mat, spreading his legs out in a 'splits' position, before grabbing the bottom of Dangerous’ leg with one hand and… WHACK! CRACKS the crown jewels of Johnny Dangerous with a ferocious European Uppercut! “OOOOH!!” “Now that’s the kind of ‘Kung Fu challenge’ I like to see,” cackles Riley, as Cortex releases the Barracuda’s leg, letting it fall limply to the mat and Johnny’s mouth just drops. He slowly curls into a fetal position as the Urban Legend gets back to his feet. “Todd Cortez just goaded Johnny into the Martial Art showdown then flipped the tables on him completely. Now THAT’S what I call smart tactics!” Unfortunately for the Barracuda, he isn’t able to put much resistance up as Cortez snatches his neck and backs him up a few steps… right behind the fallen ladder. Todd drapes one arm of the Barracuda over his shoulder, then grabs on to Johnny’s midsection and lifts him up for a choke-slam… WHAAAAAM!!! THEN PASTES JOHNNY BACK-FIRST INTO THE LADDER AS HE SITS OUT, POWER-BOMB STYLE, WITH A MIRACLE ECSTASY BOMB!! “URBAN ASSAULT,” cheers Bobby, “and right into that ladder! Boy, I think Johnny left a permanent impression into that one… maybe I can sell it on E-Bay or something.” “Cortez may have dispatched of Operative Dangerous, but his partner, Wildchild, is still in this thing,” Comet says. “And here he comes now!” But, just to let the other side pull their foot out of their mouth for once, just as Comet predicts the coming of the Child, the Bahama Bomber drops to his knees, rubbing the top of his head. “… Or at least he will in a second… after he’s gathered all his pieces again.” Cortez opts out of dealing with the Caribbean, figuring he can retrieve the belts before Wildchild has the chance to interject himself into the Urban Legend’s plan, and goes to get the ladder. He rolls the ladder to the side, dumping Johnny’s carcass off of it then takes it to the center of the ring and sets it up. Once he has a solid ground, he gives it one good shake just to make sure it’ll still hold up then begins to make his way up. “Well,” says Bobby, smacking his lips as if to say ‘I told you so’, “I hope you got enough money for all the White Castle’s I’m downing tonight, Comet!” “What are you talking about, Citizen Robert?” “Oh, don’t play dumb now! Just because we were on commercial break when we made the bet for this match, doesn’t mean it didn’t happen!” “Do you have any witnesses,” crows Comet. Realizing that he’ll never get one over the Masked Crusader, Bobby just sighs in despair. In the ring, Cortez is half way up the ladder and feeling rather good about his chances when all of a sudden… a jolt is sent up the ladder, slightly shaking it. He looks down and his eyes widen as Wildchild, back on his feet, is staring back at him from the opposite side of the ladder! “S(Bleep)t,” cries Bobby, and that’s about all he can say as Wildchild begins making his way up his side of the ladder! “It’s a race to the finish, but who’ll get there first?” “Please, Cortez has a good lead already.” “And that would usually be enough, Robert, but this is Wildchild we're talking about here! Citizen Cortez appears to have underestimated the Bahaman's speed!” Cortez reaches the top first, and hastily grabs at the belts! He grabs hold of them, but just as he does, Wildchild slams his fist into the Urban Legend’s gut, knocking him down a whole step on the ladder! The Bahaman goes for a second shot, this time targeting the face, and nails Todd right in the kisser, rocking his head back! Cortez begins to feel himself falling backward… BUT NO! HE FRANTICALLY REACHES OUT FOR THE LADDER, KEEPING HIMSELF FROM GOING ANY FURTHER!! “Close call there,” reports Comet. “I nearly thought he was a goner there!” Cortez quickly retaliates to Wildchild’s strikes, nailing him in the face with a Shotei Palmstrike! WHACK! The blow nearly causes Wildchild to see stars, but still he holds on and takes two more Shotei’s to his noggin! WHACK! WHACK! The crowd holds on to the edge of their seats for dear life as they watch the Bahama Bomber sway back and forth, and slowly his hands begin to give way… … But before he does, Cortez decides to give him one last blow for the road! He grabs Wildchild be the sides of his head, and pulls him back against the ladder, looking to drill the Caribbean’s face into the top of the ladder and send him packing! He pulls Wildchild’s head up, and with every fan in the arena dripping with hope… KA-RAACK!! “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!” “BAH ZEUS,” exclaims Comet, as low and behold... at the LAST possible SECOND, Johnny sneaks in behind Cortez with the steel chair left so handily in the ring and SLAMS it into the Urban Legend’s back! “I was so focused on the battle atop the ladder I didn’t even see Johnny sneak in! What impeccable timing by the Secret Agent!” It’s all Todd Cortez can do just to hold and prevent himself from falling as he releases Wildchild’s head. Wildchild, exhausted, flattens up against the ladder and simply chooses to hold on. Cortez on the other hand knows that it is do or die, and with all the determination he can muster up, he tries as hard as he can to shove the pain away and go for the belts! He makes one shaky move of his arm, and that’s when Johnny advances a few steps up the ladder… KA-RAAAACK!! … And once more the Barracuda unloads the steel plated chair into Cortez’s back, this time stopping him dead in his tracks… mind and body both! “And another shot to the back with that chair,” cries Bobby. “This may not be illegal, but it sure in the hell is CHEAP!” “Oh, so now that the shoe’s on the other foot it’s cheap,” says Comet. “You were sure singing the praises of Van Siclen giving Wildchild a Van Slaminator on that exact same chair earlier.” Johnny slings the chair to the mat, and turns back towards the ladder - climbing up right behind the Urban Legend and wrapping his arms around Cortez’s waist. He stalls for a moment as the crowd rises with enthusiasm, then shoves off the ladder with his feet, ripping the Urban Legend from it as he falls backwards, plunging to the ring, and… WHAAAAM!! DRIVES HIM INTO THE MAT WITH A SICKENING GERMAN SUPLEX, FOLDING TODD CORTEZ UP LIKE AN ACCORDIAN! “Son of a b(Bleep)h,” curses Riley. “Johnny’s just determined to kill off both members of the In Crowd tonight!” “Yeah, but he hit pretty hard himself,” reports Comet, as Johnny rolls back and fro on the mat, writhing in pain. “NIC!” shouts Johnny, in between gritted teeth, and hoping to get his partner moving. Finally, the Wildchild’s arm reaches out, grabbing the top of the ladder to a surge of cheers! “He’s moving,” shouts Comet, “and Wildchild is in perfect position to fetch those title belts!” “But will he be able to resist the urge to go after Van Siclen again,” wonders Bobby, pointing towards the side of the ring. The Spectacle, after having a fair amount of time to gather his bearings, or at least the one bearing he could find rolling around ringside, reaches up to grab the side of the ring and pull himself in. “Mike is on the move!” On the ladder, Wildchild reaches to the top with his other arm, and inches up the side ever so slightly. Van Siclen, still on the outside, reaches out to grab the bottom rope… and drags himself up to his feet. “Come on, Wildchild,” urges Comet, “Van Siclen is almost upon you! You’re already there… I know the temptation to go after him is great, but just reach up and grab those belts!” However, with Wildchild seemingly gripped by indecision, the Spectacle makes his decision much easier, for as Mike tries to stand up, the gripping pain running rampant through his body spikes in his neck, forcing an arm to tend to it… and ultimately… causing him to lose his footing (or handling, rather), and he drops back down to his knees, unable to push himself any further. “NO,” cries Bobby. “That’s it! I’m calling for a disqualification here! Mike had those belts before Johnny interfered, and now Mike’s body won’t allow him to go any further cause of it!” “There is no disqualification, Citizen Robert, and that’s the way this match works,” replies Comet. “Beside, weren’t you chirping about the strikes to Van Siclen’s neck having no effect in this match?” “Go to hell, Comet!” Using the last bit of gas in the tank, the Bahama Bomber steps up to the final rung of the ladder and then looks down at the Spectacle before reaching up and grabbing hold of the Tag Team Titles! “HE HAS IT,” Comet ecstatically shouts, as the Caribbean unhooks the belts from the hoop and Oakland goes completely ballistic! Referee Anthony Michael Hall quickly signals for the bell, finally having something to do this match! “BY THE MIGHTY ARM OF HERCULES, WILDCHILD HAS BROUGHT THE BELTS HOME!” DING! DING! DING! “Y.O.U.” pounds out from the speakers for the second time this evening as Wildchild, holding both belts in hand, lets out a sigh of relief. Slowly he begins making his way down the ladder, and the lightly salted snack rises from his ringside seat, microphone in hand. “The winner of this match,” bellows Funyon, “and NEEEEEEEEEW SWF TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS… of the WOOOOOOOORLD, WIIIIIIIIILD!! AAAAAAAND DANGEROUUUUUUS!!!!” “I can’t believe this,” pouts Bobby. “With the first impression the In Crowd made on Lockdown, I was for sure that they would be solid Champions for a long time coming!” “They just might be still,” adds Comet. “Given the bad blood between these two teams, I wouldn't be surprised if they meet again real soon! But for now, it’s Wild and Dangerous leading the pack once again, as they regain the Tag Team Titles here in Oakland tonight!” Wildchild hands off one of the belts to his partner, Johnny Dangerous, and the two embrace. Several feet away, Todd Cortez finds his way up to his knees, catching first sight of Wild and Dangerous with the belts then shakes his head in disappointment. He knows that there will be another day, and he’ll be better prepared for this team next time, so all he does is watch the two men celebrate. Wildchild and Johnny reset the ladder in the center of the ring, and then each climb a side of it. The Barracuda positions himself about three-quarters of the way up the ladder and extends his arms in a crucifix pose, holding one of his title belts in each hand, and the Bahama Bomber climbs a few rungs higher behind him, using his left hand to support himself against the top of the ladder as he holds the Tag Team Title belt overhead with his right hand. "They've done it," exclaims Comet. "Wild and Dangerous have reached the top of the tag team mountain once again! What a way to go into Battleground!" Cortez helps Van Siclen to his feet, and the Spectacle glares inside the ring, seething with rage at seeing Wildchild and Johnny holding 'his' belts... "This isn't over," he mutters to himself... As we: FADE OUT

“Welcome back to SMARKDOWN, True Believers! Up next we will see the former tag team champions Wild and Dangerous take on the new tag champions the In Crowd in what is sure to be an amazing ladder match.” Comet welcomes the fans back to the Arena in Oakland with these words, “but right now we have been to share with you this apparently vital information. So without further ado…” He finishes as he and Riley turn to their monitors to watch, and the building is dropped into darkness and the video plays… ---------- The SmarkTron video fades up, and what is shown is a long aisle down the center of the church. People stand on both stands, and though there is silence, they seem to be entranced by the figure behind the podium. As the camera moves down the aisle, the people in the pews disappear and reappear at random, their bodies going static and back into reality with each movement of the cameraman. One moment here…gone the next. . As the camera reaches the podium, the eyes of the shadowy figure are seen, and a familiar voice is heard. The voice of a Disciple. “Today we will speak candidly about a man whose history is somewhat daunting, somewhat cheerful, somewhat sad, but still very thought provoking. A history of a man that some have come to love and praise, while those that seek the truth have come to loathe…” Cheers from the church crowd kick up, even as they fade away into nothingness once more. The Disciple raises his arms high as images and dates flash behind him. One date finally makes itself brighter than the rest, and the voice continues to tell the story… November 23, 2003 “For it was on this day, the man struck a blow to good faith, when he took it upon himself to create a false idol for the world to see. A false treasure to capture and claim for his own…” An image begins to become clear, that of Alan Clark gripping Landon Maddix’s head and contorting and twisting his body as Maddix begins to tap out, giving Alan Clark his second European Championship. More dates begin to flash across the screen, and again another makes itself known. The story continues… December 12, 2003 “But the worst was soon to come…” The image, Alan Clark laying over Todd Royal and the three being counted, giving Clark his chance at the SJL World Championship. But like a blur the images change, and soon the aftermath of the match plays out, with Landon Maddix joining Todd Royal and leaving Alan Clark down and hurt in the center of the ring. December 20, 2003 “…He struck once more, like lightning blistering the sky…blistering the souls of those who follow the path to righteousness. He attacked our leader, our Savior…and left him to perish alone!” Alan Clark takes the biggest chance he can, diving from the roof of a production truck and crashing down on top of Todd Royal, securing the Junior League World Championship as his own. As he celebrates in the ring, Todd lays backstage, nearly unconscious. But the story is not over… January 8, 2004 “But like all of those who try and destroy, soon they are destroyed themselves. Some by greed, some by misfortune, and still others… …by revenge…” It is a new year, and a new foe has risen from the past, as Landon Maddix is shown celebrating on the stage as Alan Clark looks on, defeated for his European Championship. At the church, bright lights appear surrounding one very special date, and the actions of the Disciple grow more verbose and energetic. January 26, 2004 “And It was on this day, that our Savior spoke to me and told me that I was going to be a part of the greatest moment in history! He looked down on me and told me that I was going to be the one. I was going to put the faith back into this unfortunate soul! And for a moment…our Savior was right…” Less than three weeks later, and the JL is soon to close its doors. On the final night and in one final match, Landon Maddix defeats Alan Clark in a two out of three falls match-up, giving him both the World and European Championships and leaving him alone as the sole Junior League Champion. After the match, the two men who had battle tooth-and-nail throughout the weeks stand across from each other, and out of complete respect, the two shake hands and share a short hug, showing solidarity for their journey into the SWF…but all is not so well… February 17, 2004 “But no! Soon the truth unfolded…and the scourge returned, pining for redemption of which he could never receive!” It was a special day for Landon Maddix, as he turns the big 2-0 on live television. With but few words…the past that was once thought to be forgotten explodes into the present and future… “And remember something...people used to respect you. And you blew it." In front of the crowd, the Disciple lowers his head and his words come slow. “He thought he knew the truth. But all he knew was a lie.” The image behind him - a cold stare that speaks more for their relationship of the two men than any one phrase could, but a little over one week later Alan Clark stands in the middle of the ring and tries his best to show his emotions and let all the anger out… “I told the whole world that it didn’t matter what had to happen, and what extremes I had to go to…I would get the job done. And that is exactly what I did! I took myself to the limit and won that gold and I sat in that ring and cried. I knew I had finally accomplished something that I could be proud about… …But I wasn’t proud for long. NO I WASN’T! In the next month, I would lose both the European and World Championships to the same man, Landon Maddix, and I couldn’t even fathom…in my own mind…what was going on. I choked. I choked! DO YOU HEAR ME OUT THERE? ALAN CLARK CHOKED! Did you feel the pain coursing through my body…and my mind…when Landon Maddix defeated me? No! Nobody did! And what did I do then…what did I do…I hugged him. I hugged him! I wanted to show my respect to everyone watching…but I had no reason to be respectful. It was the end of one era…and I went out a loser! Alan Clark went out a LOSER!” The Disciple looks out into his crowd… “He went out into the world and searched for pity! A weakened man staggering upon the rocks and looking to the sky and saying ‘why me? why me?’ when in his mind he knows exactly why…” The image of Alan Clark stays frozen on the screen as Landon Maddix appears next to him, the two facing each other, their eyes almost lifeless as they stare through each other…and their voices echo out at each other… “It was all because of you!” “I don’t need your respect, Clark!” “You’ve changed! You’ve changed!” “It was you that changed!!” “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into!” “I’ve taken your titles…now I take what’s left of your respect!” Their voices merge together as one as one final cry is heard… “THIS ISN’T OVER! The images fade away, and all that is seen is the Disciple and his crowd. But moments later they fade away as well. The Disciple is left standing alone in the empty room, staring out over the silence before fading away himself. … … … The SmarkTron comes back to life, and the screen shows what looks to be a giant stage sitting in the middle of an arena. Yet the arena is empty. There are no fans, no cheers, no boos, nothing. As the camera zooms in on the stage, it becomes clear that someone is there…alone…seated in front of a microphone. As the camera gets closer and closer, the figure’s head raises and his eyes catch the screen. His voice is heard… “Prepare to be rocked…” CUE: Finger Eleven – “Famous” As the music begins and the lyrics echo out, more and more images begin to flash across the screen, leaving the stage behind… The lyrics serve as a hard-hitting backdrop of video… Wait if everything's going great Alan Clark stands alone in the ring, both championships raised high above his head, before his visage is replaced by that of Landon Maddix, the pose the same on the last Junior League show ever… Can you remember a day to tell? If someone should wish you well Landon and Alan stand across from each other in the JL ring, sharing a smile and a respect-filled hug. Behind the image, the eyes of Alan Clark on the empty stage show total rage as the image fades… Then there's a narrow chance All I want from you my dear friend I don't even want I could show you how The images continue, with Landon standing over Alan after the beating in November, the smile on his face larger than life itself as he stands with the rest of the House of Todd, showing the world that he does not need any of them… And you say you've got that feeling again It won't be long enough But it may never end I know Next to strobe across the screen is the Happiest Guy On Earth…his feelings changed and his life and mindset completely different, but in the back of his thoughts sits Landon Maddix and Todd Royal, there images haunting…but the most haunting images are yet to come… Wait I thought I had something to say I will remember someday The images go to Alan’s point of view, as he stands in front of Landon Maddix, trying to get the words out to tell him exactly how he feels, but he barely can… Fate found you buckling under the weight And you thought you would last To Landon’s point of view now, as he watches and participates freely in the complete destruction of Alan Clark, as he falls head-first into failure. A smile forms on his face as the images fade in and out across the screen, the music getting heavier and more intense… Follow your answers But you look so bitter Who are you? Are you famous? Important? Don't stop that glitter In a picture straight from the six man tag team match, Alan stands across the ring from the House of Todd, but his eyes are firmly on Maddix, and the lyrics of the music perfectly capture his thought. Across the ring, Landon’s eyes are doing the same, and the words seem to have a different message for Alan. All I wanted from you Is all forgotten… The music dies out and the screen fades to black momentarily before Landon Maddix and Alan Clark are shown once more, standing across from each other in the ring, thousands and thousands of screaming fans around them… Above their heads… Landon Maddix Vs. Alan Clark EMPTY ARENA MATCH SWF BATTLEGROUND 2004 As those words begin to appear, the crowd around the two men slowly fades away, leaving Maddix and Clark alone, surrounded by complete nothingness, and yet their stares stay locked on as the image slowly fades to nothingness. ---------- Back to the announcer’s table, as both Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley’s mouths hang wide open. Riley can barely speak, but is still able to get a few words out… “Comet…d…d…did you see that?” “I did, Robert.” “Unbelievable.” Both men’s eyes are still frozen to their monitors, but Comet is able to get one last phrase out, but barely. “We’ll be, uhm, right back with the tag title ladder match…” The announcers fade away, only to be replaced by the image of Alan Clark and Landon Maddix alone in the middle of a giant arena before everything fades to black…and another commercial break begins.

As SWF Smarkdown comes blasting back onto live television, a large gold plate is shown front and center. A bit hazy at first, but when the cameras focus, the words “SWF Cruiserweight Champion” can plainly be seen. Finally, the shot zooms out, revealing the new Cruiserweight Champion, Johnny Dangerous standing alongside his partner in crime, the Bahama Bomber himself, Wildchild as the Oakland crowd cheering is heard! “RAAAAAAAAAAAH!!” To their immediate left is resident SWF Journalist Benjamin Hardy, standing ready with a microphone in hand. “Welcome back, fans,” He says. “This is Ben Hardy here reporting to you live with the dynamic tag team specialist, Wild and Dangerous! Firstly, Johnny Dangerous! Congratulations on your winning of the Cruiserweight Championship, and what an honor it must be to help sow the seeds that your partner Wildchild planted with the Cruiserweight division!” “You couldn’t be more right on that, Hardy,” Johnny replies with his million dollar smile. “It’s been a non-stop celebration for me and Dub Cee from Des Moines, Iowa to Oakland, California! It is an honor to become the Cruiserweight Champion, and I fully intend to defend this title with my dying breath!” Wildchild nods his approval, smiling diligently for the fans. “I see, however, the question on everyone’s mind is this…” Hardy stalls as he cocks his head to the side, gazing into the camera, and nods his head. Wildchild and Johnny share a bewilder glance towards one another before Ben turns his attention back towards the pair and continues. “Everyone knows that the two of you are an excellent team, but will the Cruiserweight Championship drive a stake between the friendship and partnership of Wild and Dangerous?” “Dat’s jus’ ridiculous,” snaps Wildchild. “Der was once a time, a time we like ta try an’ forget, when Wild and Dangerous was at odds wit’ each other.” The thought cause the Bahama Bomber to clutch his ribs as Johnny shamefully hangs his head. After a second, Wildchild continues. Let me say dis now, Ben, never again will we let such an occurrence take place, not even for some-ting as meaningful as da Cruiserweight Championship!” “That’s right, and the second Wildchild wants his shot at this belt…” chimes Johnny, thumping the gold plated title, “he’s got it! However, it will be a simple… yet furious competition, as I expect nothing less than for Wildchild to give me everything he’s got! But when it’s all said and done, the best man will have won, and after that… if Wildchild wins, we’ll party together just like after Clusterfuck, where Dub Cee defeated Tom Flesher in a ladder match to become the first ever SWF Cruiserweight Champion!” “Speaking of ladders,” says Hardy, “how do you feel about going into this ladder match tonight against the new SWf Tag Team Champions, the In Crowd? They made an impressive debut on Lockdown and-” “Debut,” scoffs Wildchild. “Maybe for dis Todd Cortez, but da other half is da same old washed up Mike Van Siclen! I still remember as clear as day when you decided to declare war against me an’ Johnny, Mike. We stole your spotlight, and you were tired of it. You crapped your pants, and we wouldn’t change your diaper! Well guess what… you stole Wild and Dangerous' Tag Team Championship! What’s da matter, couldn’t wait fer me an’ Johnny to have our rematch against da Unholy Trinity to gain back our belts? What, Mike, your not worried about facing me and Johnny are you? Especially after your original secret partner, Scott Thompson bailed on you, huh?” “He’s got a new partner now, and his name is Todd Cortez.” “I don’ really care who his partner is, Ben,” Wildchild replies. “Whoever he is, I’m sure he’ll be doing all da work for good ol’ Mike. However, for just as surely as I reached up, an grabbed dat briefcase containing da Cruiserweight Championship, tonight, I will reach up an grab da Tag Team Titles! And once more, Wild and Dangerous will be da Tag Team Champions!” Wildchild pauses, the thoughts of Van Siclen having riled him up a bit. Finally, Johnny slaps his partner on the shoulder. “Come on,” he says, “we’ve got a match to get ready for.” Wildchild nods, and the duo turns, thanking Hardy for taking the time, and strolls off towards the locker rooms… As we: FADE OUT

“It’s hard, Tom.” The face of Allison Onita is downcast. She sits in Tom Flesher’s locker room, already in her suit for her managerial appearance later tonight. “I mean… no matter what I do, I feel like I’m betraying someone. I don’t know why, but Ann’s not exactly thrilled about us hanging out, even though it’s been forever since I saw you… but you’re an old friend.” Flesher walks back into the room, stripped to the waist. He wears his singlet, the straps pulled down and hanging from his hips, and his warm-up pants, but the warm-up top sits in a heap on the coffee table. “I know, Alli,” he says. He turns back to the locker room mirror and begins preening. “It’s a tough situation that Ann’s decided to put you in, and frankly, it surprises me.” He straightens his coif, fixing it ever so slightly so that not a single hair is out of place. “I know that Ann and I didn’t get along in the Magnificent Seven, but I’ve apologized for that… time and time again. It’s like she just won’t take yes for an answer… I’m sure you know how frustrating that is. You’re a strong-willed woman, I’m sure you and Ann have butted heads more than once.” Allison smiles a little. “Yes... of course we have. But- well, at least you’ve apologized for the way you treated her in the Mag-7. She’s never apologized for stealing Molly… she doesn’t even like talking about it.” “You have to take that sort of thing with a grain of salt,” Flesher says, smoothing his sideburns down. He takes out a razor and continues talking as he very slowly, very carefully evens out his facial hair. “You know what it’s like to be in Ann’s shoes. You wrestled her matches for months when you were working for Thoth. Sometimes it’s just hard to admit you’re wrong, because… well, you know as well as I do. What happens on the road is supposed to stay on the road.” Allison nods. “But Alli, I’m really glad you came to see me tonight. It’s been a long time since we sat down and talked about old times… and you can ask Andrew Rickmen how much I like to reminisce.” He laughs to himself. “No one else knows as well as you and I do about what happened backstage with the Clan, and I know sometimes it’s hard to talk about it with people who don’t understand. They wonder how you could just… succumb to a charismatic personality like Thoth’s, but they don’t get it. Not at all.” “It was great to spend some time with you, too, Tom,” says Allison, rising. Tom turns and faces her, a smile on his face. “And it’s fun to talk about the Clan… but I’m glad those days are behind me.” She steps toward him and, unsure of herself, offers a hand. He wraps one arm around her and pulls her close, hugging her tightly. He smiles as she embraces him, then steps back. Allison blushes, then abruptly turns toward the door. “I think… Ann’s going to need her pep talk,” she says. “You go take care of that,” says Tom. “I’ll see you later on.” Allison nods, then steps out into the hall. As she closes the door, Flesher’s face twists into a smirk, and he triumphantly pulls up his singlet straps as the picture fades.

The California crowd is a huge sea of signs, t-shirts and cheering people as ever with SWF shows. The sold out Arena in Oakland has already been a boiling point from previous matches and there’s still more to come. Funyon starts to make his usual walk to the ring in his ever flashy suit as Referee Hardcastle makes his way down for the net match up. “Welcome back to SWF Smarkdown Citizens. I’m your every lovable caped crusader host … CYCLONE COMET … and with me at ringside is the questionable man… Robert Riley!” Yells Comet with his usual over the top voice as Bobby tries to sink into his chair. “Thank you so much for trying to scare the viewers away Comet, when we have such a fun match coming up. I can’t believe me luck at this one.” Riley says, grinning like a snake. “Well, we’ve had a bumper show already, including the first real match of our latest SWF star, Said against the red hot rookie, Toxxic. And we’ve still got a ladder match for the tag team titles and a huge tag match to try and sort things out for the pay per view.” Continues Comet, ignoring Riley. “Yes, yes Comet. And I hope Duran gets even more revenge on Grappler. But right now, we get to see Dace Night and Psycho Number Two Aecas beat the living hell out of each other in a hardcore match. It’s going to be great!” Says Riley. “Well Robert, I’d be careful. These two team mates might not want to face each other like that. You remember what happened with Justice and Rule?” Comet points out as Riley closes his eyes against the flash backs. “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest will be for one fall, under hardcore rules!” Funyon starts to announce, over the rising roar of the crowds. “Introducing firstly, from Birmingham England, weighing in at two hundred and fifty two pounds, he is …. DACE….” The yell of ‘Fucking’ rings out from the fans as they chime in with the introduction. “NIGHT!” A huge cheer breaks across the crowd as Hero screams into life over the PA system, along with bursts of white pyro lighting up the entrance ramp all the way up to the top. Standing in the crowd of smoke, Dace looks around at the cheering fans, before starting to make his way down the ramp. Tagging hands with the fans in the front row as he goes by, Dace grins before sliding under the ropes into the ring. Climbing the turnbuckles, Dace throws his arms into air, flashing the horns to the fans before dropping back to the mat to wait for Aecas. “Come on, stop trying to stall. Get Aecas out here and start killing each other.” Riley whines. “And his opponent, from Shrewsbury England, weighing in at three hundred and fifteen pounds … The Black Angel … AECAS!” But rather than the familiar haunting voice of The Black Angel’s introducing, complete different music breaks into life, causing confusion among the fans as Madonna’s “Dress You Up In My Love” hits the speakers. Straining their necks towards the entrance ramp, the crowd try to see what’s going on and who’s coming out. Through the darkness, a figure slowly emerges.. “Is that Madonna? Has Citizen Aecas completely lost his mind? More so than before anyway?” Comet wonders. “Oh great.. as if he wasn’t bad enough as it is.” Groans Riley. “Oh god…… it’s not Citizen Aecas!” Shouts Comet in shock. “You’re kidding me, right?” Riley says slowly as the figure becomes clear on the stage….. …. …. …. It’s Cutthroat! A huge wave of boos rip into life around the arena as the SWF’s official black hole of sucking stands on the stage with a house mic in hand and a grin on his face. Dressed in horribly garish and clashing colours, Cutthroat simply stands and waits, letting the boos die out. In the ring Dace Night just stands and stares, wondering what the hell is going on. “I bet you’re all wondering why I’m here aren’t you? Well as much as the hunk of man love Bobby Riley wants to see Dace and Aecas beat the hell out of each other in the middle of the ring, I feel I’ve got to do something about this.” Cutthroat says another huge wave of boos and jeers sounding from the fans as he continues. “Because isn’t this fed about wrestling? Real talent, from people like me? Not about untalented psychos hitting each other with chairs and all that? I’m right aren’t I? It’s about the wrestling!” He yells over the booing. “Someone do something and shut him up please. Before I break my vow not to use my powers.” Threatens Comet. A huge echoing chant of ‘Cutthroat Sucks!’ breaks out from the fans, as Dace joins in, cracking his knuckles, ready to dive in. The chant only gets louder as Cutthroat carries on with his speech. “So I’ve brought in someone. Someone that this place needs. A shining example. A true hero of pro wrestling. A man we should all be looking up to. Someone you’ll all know, love and respect.” Cutthroat rambles on, trying to impersonate a vacuum cleaner around Bobby Riley, “Ladies and gentlemen, untalented scum in the ring, I give you…. TEDDY HART!” “WHAT? That dick?” Comet and Riley cry out in a rear union of thought. As the Lox Feat’s “Money, Power, Respect” kicks into life a near deafening chant of ‘FUCK YOU TEDDY!’ breaks into life, almost making the building shake with it’s ferocity. Standing at the top of the ramp, the black sheep of the Hart family takes the mic from Cutthroat’s hand and starts to walk down the ramp as he addresses the crowd. “See, this is what the good man is talking about!” Teddy almost screams. “He brings in me, Teddy Hart, a member of the great Hart family into your federation. He’s bringing in great talent, a third generation wrestling superstar! Someone that embodies what you’re all meant to love… Pro Wrestling. And yet you say those horrible things? What are you lot, rednecks? I’m here to bring you real wrestling, real talent. Not mindless weapon shots like that stupid monkey in the ring. Dace Night, please give me a break, what sort of retarded gimmick is that?” Hart continues in his rant, over the insults from the crowd and near death threats. “I think Citizen Hart should be very careful for Dace is going to make it possible for him to really speak straight out of his execratory hole.” Notes Comet, as Dace stands in ring, looking like he’s about to break into a blood rage. “Will you people be quiet for one moment. Just let you ADD riddled, TV driven minds sit back and listen to my greatness. You’ll never learn if you can’t listen to a great teacher like me…” Teddy continues to the hatred of the fans. “Are you scared?” “He’s here!” The familiar haunting voice breaks out as the arena is plunged into darkness Dark Funeral’s “Dead Skin Mask” erupting from the arena speakers as another roaring cheer from the crowd shakes the building. A huge light show breaks out at the top of the ramp as Dead Skin Mask breaks into life. Striding through the smoke, the Scythe in one hand, a pint of Guinness in the other and a very irritated look on his face, stands the Black Angel, Aecas. “And here is our scheduled second man Robert! But what must he be thinking about the sight in front of him?!” “I have no idea Comet. And why the hell is he bringing beer out here with him?!” Aecas stands on the stage for a long moment moving his Scythe up to rest on his shoulders as he takes a sip of his pint, dead white eyes looking down to the mouth of the ramp at Teddy and Cutthroat before he begins to stride down the ramp. Hart and Cutthroat quickly back away from the giant as he arrives at ringside rolling into the ring as he passes only to find themselves confronted by a very angry Dace Night. Cutthroat quickly backs Teddy into a corner placing himself in front of the mouthy youngster as Aecas makes his way casually to the Time Keepers table. “It looks like Citizen Hart has jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire! He does not want to be in the ring with Citizen Night Robert!” “Yes he has Comet but he’s smart enough to have a sacrifice in front of him.” Aecas deposits his Flick Scythe at the Time Keepers table before carefully placing the half empty pint of Guinness on the announcer’s table before he gives Riley and Comet a wink and turns back towards the ring. “If Citizen Hart was smart Robert he’d be out of the ring and halfway down the aisle by now.” “Sadly he isn’t that smart.” “What a pity…” Comet says with an unusual amount of relish. Aecas jumps up onto the apron slowly stepping through the ropes and moving up to stand side by side with his erstwhile opponent staring at the two men huddled in one corner of the ring. Teddy Hart shakes his head quickly and lifts the mic up once more having to shout to make himself heard over the fans. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Do you know who I am? I’m Teddy Hart! I’m the first 3rd generation superstar to ever grace the SWF with his presence! I’m here to save these people from watching mindless garbage brawlers like you two!” Teddy is quickly cut off as Dace lunges forwards grabbing Cutthroat by his truly loud Hawaiian shirt and forcibly dragging him out of the corner and into Aecas’ less than friendly arms leaving the blustering Hart on his own and face to face with a very angry Englishman. “Citizen Hart just doesn’t know when to shut up Robert!” “As much as I want to see Dace and Aecas hurt each other...I'll PAY to see them kill these two Comet!” “As would I Robert but I think we’re going to see it for free!” Just then, yet another round of music strikes up over the arena, as ‘Temptation’ by The Tea Party kicks into life, signalling the arrival of the current SWF commissioner, Alex Zenon. Standing at the top of the ramp, the commissioner looks down at the four men in the ring. Shaking his head from side to side, he waits for the crowd to quite down yet again. Looking at the figure of Teddy Hart, Zenon can almost see the sweat dripping off him as Dace growls at him. “It’s Commissioner Zenon. He must be here to sort out this situation. I hope he doesn’t sort it out too much though…” Comet says, still staring at the ring. “Cutthroat, I don’t know who’s dick you sucked to allow you to get out there. More to the point, I don’t know how you managed to get him in here, but you wont be getting away with it.” Snarls Zenon, “Now, I could just have security take you out of the building right now, but I won’t. Teddy Hart, you’re spitting on your family name and the legend. Cutthroat, you just plain suck. Aecas, Dace, you have my full permission to legally murder these two dicks right now!” The crowd explodes into an ear drum bursting pop as Alex Zenon sweeps around and backs through the entrance way. Looking at each other for a second, the two Trinity members let a smile creep across their face before driving their right boots straight into the groins of Cutthroat and Teddy Hart. The two men topple forwards, clutching at their crotches as the fans explode again. Grinning at each other, Dace and Aecas look ready to carry out a real beating. “Zenon just made the only discussion I’ll ever agree with! This really is going to be great TV Comet. I mean, who doesn’t want to see Teddy Hart die on live TV?!” Questions Riley, grinning as he stares at the ring. Hauling Teddy Hart overhead into a Military Press, Dace walks into the centre of the ring, carrying Hart above his head before racing across the ring and launching him out onto the floor. Teddy hits the floor with a loud smack, the sheer momentum of the fall curling himself into a ball from the impact. Across the ring, the Black Angel grabs Cutthroat around his neck and his tights, hauling up the king of sucking before smashing him across the hard bone of his knee with a nasty looking Chokebreaker. Aecas gazes down at the writhing Cutthroat for a few long moments before grabbing him by the hair and pulling the wretch back up to his feet, shoving him back against the ropes. The king of suck sags against the cables for a brief moment before Aecas comes thundering back in, his huge right arm catching Cutthroat right in the neck catapulting him over the top rope and down to the floor. “And the Trinity have cleared the ring Robert!” “Ugh and Cutthroat’s headed our way! The last thing I want right now is him up close to me!” “Indeed Robert! I haven’t seen such a clash of colours and styles since the Magic Roundabout!” Cutthroat staggers towards the announcer’s table one hand clutching at his neck as on the other side of the ring Teddy Hart begins to slowly pick himself up as Cutthroat flops across the announcer’s table. “My god this is disgusting!” “Nobody needs to see that Robert! But Citizen Cutthroat is going for Citizen Aecas’ pint!” Cutthroat grabs the half full glass from the top of the table before he swings around holding it up as he glares at the seven footer staring back at him from the ring, the king of suck holds the glass for a minute longer before he takes a swallow of Guinness. A look of smug triumph crosses Cutthroat’s face for a moment before its replaced by a look of sheer disgust as the king of suck gags on the bitter taste spewing a mouthful of lukewarm Guinness across the protective mats. “It looks as if Citizen Cutthroat can’t hold his drink Robert!” The Trinity seem to think so as well as Aecas and Dace both grin at Cutthroat’s misfortune, but the grins disappear as the king of suck upends the glass and lets the remaining half splatter onto the mats as well. Aecas just stares at Cutthroat for a brief moment before a look of sheer rage twists his painted face as the seven footer practically leaps through the ropes and down to the floor one hand grabbing a handful of Cutthroat’s criminally loud shirt as the king of suck tries to flee. “And Cutthroat just spilt Aecas’ pint!” “Shall I get a priest Robert?” “Better get an Exorcist Comet.” Dragging the king of suck back towards him the enraged Black Angel snatches the glass from one limp wrested hand and gazes wistfully at the last dregs of Guinness that cling to its surface before he smashes it across Cutthroat’s head! “OOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Tearing his eyes away from the action on the outside for a moment Dace finds that Teddy Hart is back to his feet, the Brummie Goth wastes no time however breaking into a short sprint and diving through the top and middle ropes his right elbow CRACKING into the side of Teddy Hart’s head! “Elbow Suicidaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!!” “I’ll add a brain surgeon to the list Robert!” The crowd erupts as the two men crash to the floor and Dace Night wastes no time, straddling the black sheep of the Hart family and starting to send elbow after crushing elbow into his unprotected head! “DACE FUCKING NIGHT!” “DACE FUCKING NIGHT!” “DACE FUCKING NIGHT!” “DACE FUCKING NIGHT!” “And the good Citizens are saying it all for us Robert!” As his stablemate pounds away on Teddy Aecas searches underneath the ring for a moment, pulling out a thick bundle of light tubes and a chair with a rack of light tubes taped to it from the gloomy depths beneath the ring to another loud pop from the fans. The Black Angel deposits the bundle on the announcer’s table for a brief moment as he takes the light tube chair in both hands. The king of suck already bleeding profusely from the forehead gets it full in the face once again as Aecas cracks him squarely on top of the head with the light tube chair! “HOLY SHIT!” ”HOLY SHIT!” ”HOLY SHIT!” Cutthroat drops down to his knees both hands clutching at a face that is getting bloodier and bloodier by the minute before Aecas dents the steel over his head with a truly cringe inducing chair shot. CRACK! “I think Citizen Aecas may have fractured Citizen Cutthroat’s skull with that one Robert!” “Popcorn Comet?” “Don’t mind if I do Robert!” Dace meanwhile has finally let up with his torrent of Elbows only to look beneath the ring himself for a moment before he drags out a steel chair of his own, the High Priest of Horrorcore drags a groggy Teddy Hart up into a sitting position before smashing him right back down with a vicious chair shot. The fans erupt into another thunderous “DACE FUCKING NIGHT!” chant but the Brummie Goth isn’t finished there as he drops the chair and quickly peels away a section of protective matting, exposing the hard concrete floor beneath. As Aecas busily rips apart Cutthroat’s hideous shirt exposing his bare back Dace drags what’s left of Teddy Hart back up to his feet shoving Hart’s head between his legs and making a throat slitting motion to another loud pop from the crowd. The Hardcore Goth wraps his arms around Teddy’s middle and lifts him up before drilling him head first into the concrete with a Piledriver as Aecas shatters his remaining light tube bundle against Cutthroat’s naked back. “The Trinity are just dismantling Citizens Cutthroat and Hart in front of us Robert!” “They are more than happy to carry out Zenon’s wishes here Comet and I don’t think there’s anyone here who’s going to complain about what we’re seeing right now!” With the cheers of the fans still ringing in their ears Aecas and Dace Night set to work once more, the Hardcore Goth picks up the limp form of Teddy hart once again and shoves him up against the crowd barriers hooking Hart’s arms behind the barrier to keep him more or less standing up. Aecas on the other hand picks up the badly damaged chair and forces it open, planting it onto the mats and unceremoniously dumping Cutthroat onto the wobbly steel. Dace takes up his steel chair once again as Aecas fetches a second one from beneath the ring, handing it to a fan at ringside and instructing them to hold it over Cutthroat’s head before both men climb up to the apron and then begin to ascend the turnbuckles. “The Trinity are going upstairs Robert!” “And Teddy Hart and Cutthroat better be ready for a crash landing!” Dace and Aecas slowly climb up to the tops of their respective corners looking out at the sea of humanity cheering them on before they leap off the top in near perfect stereo, Dace Night destroying his chair over the top of Teddy hart’s head with a CRACK that echoes around the building while Aecas stomps the fan held chair onto Cutthroat’s head with an M Bison stomp all the way from the top to the outside! “HOLY SHIT!” ”HOLY SHIT!” ”HOLY SHIT!” ”HOLY SHIT!” Teddy Hart crumples bonelessly to the canvas the broken chair hooked over his head like some weird crown as Cutthroat’s head snaps forwards and then back from the huge impact of the chair as Aecas lands in front of him the big man losing his footing and landing heavily before pushing himself back up to his feet and looking across the ring at Dace with an evil grin the fans know only too well. Picking up the now almost literally dead weight of Teddy Hart and Cutthroat, Dace and Aecas start to drag them towards the ramp. Stopping at the bottom of the ramp, Horrorcore swings around into Rear Waistlock on Hart and snaps backwards, sending him crashing into the ramp with a brutal Dangerous German Suplex. Teddy Hart hits the ramp with a huge crash and clank, as another huge roar breaks up from the fans. The Black Angel follow up by completely crushing Cutthroat’s neck with a Backdrop Drop Driver onto the steel ramp. “WE FELT THAT ONE!” “WE FELT THAT ONE!” “WE FELT THAT ONE!” “WE FELT THAT ONE!” “WE FELT THAT ONE!” “WE FELT THAT ONE!” “This has to be one of the worse beatings I’ve ever seen since the Steiner Brothers still faced jobbers!” Cries Comet. “And this is the only time I’m going to be cheering on these two guys. Enjoy it!” Riley follows up. Leaping the lifeless heaps at the bottom of the ramp, Dace and Aecas head down the sides of the ramp. Pulling several tables clear from the area, they drag them to either side of the stage. Opening up near by boxes, both men grin as they pull out bags. With two tables either side of the stage, Horrorcore and The Black Angel proceed to cover them in thumbtacs. Not done there, they take canisters of liquid and cover the tables in them. A flare breaks up from the tables as they burst into flames, creating an evil glow around the two members of the Unholy Trinity. TRIN-ITY! TRIN-ITY! TRIN-ITY! TRIN-ITY! “Oh my god, those thumbtack covered tables are now on fire! This really is going to be a big end for Teddy Hart and Cutthroat!” “Damn, just when I didn’t have any marshmallows with me either. What a shame Comet.” Replies Riley. Picking up the still unmoving Hart and the king of suck from the heap on the ramp, the two Hardcore Goths start to drag them all the way to the top of the stage. Looking out to the flaming piles of death below, the two exchange glances with each other for a moment. Taking up opposite sides of the stage, Dace holds Teddy Hart as Aecas holds Cutthroat. Hauling them into Standing Headscissors, the duo yet out a huge yell and pull Hart and Cutthroat up into the air for a pair of Powerbombs. Pausing for just a second for all the camera flashes to go off before sending both the hatred figured plummeting from the stage onto the flaming thumbtack tables to an ear shattered explosion from the fans. “HOLY SHIT!” “HOLY SHIT!” “HOLY SHIT!” “HOLY SHIT!” “HOLY SHIT!” “HOLY SHIT!” “HOLY SHIT!” “HOLY SHIT!” “THAT’S THE FINAL NAIL IN THE COFFIN! A pair of Powerbombs off the stage through those flaming tables! Those two are just dead!” Yells Comet at the top of his voice! “TAKE THAT YOU FUCKING TWAT TEDDY!” LET FREEDOM RING WITH THE SHOTGUN BLAST! “Well, we didn’t get the scheduled match, but this was just as fun. I think this is a message to everyone out there about what sort of company the SWF is.” Says Comet. “Please Comet, before I start regretting not seeing Aecas and Dace kill each other tonight. Let us just enjoy this golden moment.” Davidan roars into life over the chanting crowds as Aecas and Dace look down at the decimated remains of bodies at the bottom of the stage. Grinning to each other, the two Trinity members standing posing for the fans as the image fades out.