the.weej

Card: Singles Match Toxxic v. Jimmy "The Demon" Liston Toxxic won the Hardcore Gamers #1 Contendership last week on Lockdown in impressive fasion. So far, the newest SWFer has impressed the hell out of the front office. But Liston sees a chance to make an impression of his own, a chance to show that he has what it takes to be a contender, to be the top man in the business... Rules: Standard singles match Hardcore Match Dace Night v. "Coyote" Coy West Two competing interests collide in this one. After Lockdown, Dace requested someone, anyone, in a classic Hardcore brawl to get the kinks out for From the Fire. Mere moments later, West was in the commisioner's office with a few complaints of his own about his ICTV match with Grappler. What better way to make both men happy than to let them vent all of their frustrations on each other? Rules: Hardcore match SWF Legends Match (non-title) Sacred v. Jay Dawg Who needs an explaination for this classic duel? Fine... Sacred is the reigning USJL champion and will defend his title at From the Fire. JD is a returning legend who wants to test his mettle against the best and brightest in the business. Years of expierience collide in the ring on Smarkdown!! Rules: Standard singles match, but the ref will give both men plenty of latitude in the match Singles Match for the SWF Cruiserweight Title WildChild © v. Alan Clark Clark is the number one contender to the title, but he has match with Thugg at From the Fire. But that's fine, as WildChild and his partner Johnny Dangerous will defend the Tag Titles against the House of Todd the same night. Neither man wanted to wait until mid-March to decide this, so the match is on, and it is on Smarkdown!! Rules: Standard singles match Tag Team Match Terrance "Janus" Bailey & Charlie "The Grappler" Matthews v. The Unnamed (John "Notorious One" Duran and Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix) Janus and Duran will throw down at FtF. Matthews will try and take away the Unnamed leader's World Title at the same show. Anything else need to be said about the tension in this match? Could there be any more quotation marks? No, I didn't think so either. Rules: Standard tag match Fatal Four Way Match for the #1 Contender to the SWF Intercontinental-Television Championship Ann "Ichiban" Onita v. "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins v. Mike Van Siclen v. Insane Luchador At From the Fire, The Grappler will have to pull double duty. Before he has the chance to go up against the monster Va'aiga for the World Title, he must defeat the winner of this match to retain his hopes of being a double champion. His opponent will have the chance to go after one of the best technical wrestlers in the Fed in a state where he can't expend too much energy... now that's a prize worth fighting for! Rules: No DQ, first pinfall or submission wins

Neither can you, actually. But there's a REASON these people are incompetent, right? -Z

Why thank you, Janus. And on a completely unrelated note that has nothing to do with the fact Duran vs Janus was never missing from the show, and you're all clearly blind, let me just remind everyone for no real reason that you should never, ever send me stuff through chat or over AIM instead of PMing it, because odds are I'm going to forget about it. -Z

It's not entierly accurate (not accurate at all, actually, just looking at Va'aiga's post), but CC's been calling the limit 230lbs. Fudged, but 220 means there's about three people in the division, and 225 means there's another three or so who are just a couple pounds over the limit. -Z

Because this thread just won't die... I was talking to Janus a few minutes ago about the ML danceoff, and I mentioned that Edwin's true crowing achievement of really, really stupid shit had to be the Stairway to Panda match, and everything involving pandas (stuffed or otherwise) that lead up to it. The thing is, I don't remember anything in much detail, so if the Mac Daddy would care to enlighten us, I'd appreciate it. -Z

Va'aiga has my PM on this match, and he may feel free to share it with Landon and Todd if he wants. That said, I'll say this much: It was close. It was more or less decided by the opposition's match being better in specific areas. But... Landon and Royal, you two have fucking ridiculous chemistry, and if you'd had maybe another three matches of experience each, I don't think this would have lost. I give fair warning to everyone now: They will be owning you (yes, you) in a month, maybe two. -Z

I think a minor SNAFU on Thoth's part. It's a title match for certain. -Z

I wash my hands of the BOOKING, fewl. Of course, it's you, and I'm marking, so odds are Todd shouldn't even bother writing anyway... -Z

For reference, I'd just like to say I wash my hands of this card. I know there's only one goofy match, but I need to put it in writing. -Z

I have no more significant memories to add, but I'd just like to say I mark the fuck out for King putting Happy Bunny into his sig. Happy Bunny owns us all. -Z

The Smart Marks Wrestling Federation Presents... SWF® STORM™, LIVE, FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 20TH! FROM THE SOLD OUT CONSECO FIELDHOUSE IN INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA! (5pm PCT, 7pm EST; check local listings) The SWF® starts its engine and ROARS out of the gate in Indiana, setting the pace for a tultimous night of action! There are a lot of questions circling around everyone after Smarkdown... mainly, what was UP with that main event? Not that you could shut them up, but the Unnamed will definitely have something to say about luring Dace into one of the most dangerous matches ever booked in SWF® history... and then promptly leaving him laying with a team beat down! But the world champion isn't going to get away THAT easily, as he's got a rough main event to look forward to. ALSO: Sacred remains one of the busiest men in the SWF®, defending his title yet again... and the ominous question mark man returns yet again! All this and more on SWF® STORM™! MAIN EVENT TAG TEAM MATCH Dace Night, Ann "Ichiban" Onita and Charlie "Grappler" Matthews vs Todd Royal, Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix and Va'aiga Yeah, Va’aiga isn’t going to get off that easily. The SWF world champion pulled the wool over Dace’s eyes for their last match… but he’s not going to have that kind of luck this time. Mainly because he’s going to be staring into the eyes of two of his other fiercest competitors… Ann Onita, with her victory over the Maori a few shows ago, and Charlie Matthews, whom Va’aiga is on a crash-course to face at From the Fire! At the very least, he’ll have the assistance of tag title #1 contenders Landon Maddix and Todd Royal… but that’s it. Rules: …because all other Trinity and Unnamed members are BARRED from so much as appearing at the entrance. Standard tag match rules otherwise apply. Remember the tag ropes! Word Limit: 6000 Send To: realitycheck HARDCORE TITLE MATCH John Duran© vs Aecas Aecas earned a shot at John Duran on Lockdown, and now gets a chance to cash in on it. Both men spent Smarkdown at home, preparing for this match… Aecas re-learning the ins and outs of Duran’s strategy, and Duran taking a few icewater baths to remove the sting of getting his ass handed to him by Dace Night. He probably has a few more of those to look forward to after this… Rules: What? Word Limit: 5000 Send To: chirs3 SINGLES MATCH Mike Van Siclen vs ??? MVS has been on a hell of a cold streak lately, and, well, ??? men rarely lend the opportunity to improve on that. But who knows? Mike might get lucky, and have it end up being Hamsauce or something… (yeah, right) Rules: Standard singles match. ??? man should definitely know who he is, and should direct Mike to his stats. Word Limit: 5000 Send To: realitycheck TWO FALLS MATCH, TRIPLE THREAT USJL TITLE/ICTV #1 CONTENDERSHIP Sacred© vs "Coyote" Coy West vs Janus Sacred has been one of the busiest men in the SWF recently, with this being his fourth title defense in his last four matches! But he’s won them all up til now, and frankly, that’s a trend that will take considerable effort to buck. However… Mr. Blackwell faces arguably his best competition yet, here, with both the wily Coyote and the returning-after-brief-layaway behemoth Janus. But what might be most interesting about this match is not Sacred’s title, but rather, the shot at even more prestigious gold made available after the first fall. After this match, there may be more than one man moving up in the world… Rules: After the first fall is decided, the match proceeds to the second fall after a 10 second pause. Standard rules apply to both falls. Word Limit: 5500 Send To: Thoth SINGLES MATCH Johnny Dangerous vs Alan Clark Alan Clark has a lot on the ball right now. Harassing former world champion the Hville Thugg, getting in Landon Maddix’s face about his Benedict Arnold ways, finding unexpected success in the WF… it’s a pretty full schedule. Johnny Dangerous, on the other hand, does… not. The Barracuda has been idle for a big part of the last month. He will face the House of Todd with partner Wildchild sometime in the future, but for now, he’s up against Clark. And really, that might be beneficial, as Alan’s mind is no doubt spread around his various other issues… after all, he may very well be writing cheques with his mouth his ass can’t cash. Rules: Standard singles match Word Limit: 4500 Send To: Grand Slam SINGLES MATCH Aidan Redmond vs Toxxic Speaking of people having surprising success in the SWF, Toxxic, who was the first new recruit since the SWF and SJL merged, is coming off a fairly impressive triple-threat victory. Tonight he goes up against another new recruit, Aidan Redmond, finally having a match after his post-Clusterfuck vignette. Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 4500 Send To: Thoth SINGLES MATCH Jake Helmsely vs Insane Luchadore Special Guest Commentator: "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins Jake… IL… aah, how about a little bit of history? The Insane Luchadore has floundered slightly since finally reaching the SWF, and Jake is coming off a tag team loss with Spike Jenkins the last show. Both look to see victory here. Interestingly, Spike has asked for a commentary slot for the opening match… although how he could add more colour than Bobby and his rainbow flag, I’ll never know. But hey! Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 4500 Send To: Suicide King (Send all things to Thoth. And may god help us all.)

Well, I know that, Flik, but I meant here specifically. And 'sides, ex-JL, ex-WF, it all means the same thing these days. And if we keep letting Kibagami come back, I doubt you'd run into many problems. -Z

You have no idea how much I'm going to thank you for this when I do the rankings again. NO IDEA. -Z

It's sorta cool (and rather ironic) how this thread turned up a few ex-SWFers who haven't been seen for a while. Anyway. I totally forgot about that disaster of a last JL match TNT and I had. It started out with TNT saying he had no desire to write a real match, and asked me if I wanted to joint. Me, being me, said I had no problem with doing less work than necessary. Then he got the bright idea of doing a silly match (which I stupidly agreed to), and... it just kind of spiraled out of control from there. He PMed just about everyone in the fed to ask them for silly suggestions, we stayed up all night the day before the show IMing, and... none of us wrote anything. I then made the stupid, stupid, stupid proclimation of telling him to "warn me if I don't start writing sometime soon," and so he did. But he kept going, his mentality somehow regressing back to grade two, eventually even getting other people to warn me. Finally, my warning level hit 100%... and I got disconnected. And for the next two days, I wouldn't be able to sign back onto AIM. I was really, really, really pissed off. I saw him in chat later, and still being pissed off, I promptly lied about finishing the match in spite of this. So the final JL show we're on rolls around, and TNT freaks out, telling me (in chat again) that King has nothing and will nullify our bumps if he doesn't see a match. So he's writing at light speed and cursing me for lying to him about writing anything... and you know what? I started laughing. In the end, everything turned out kosher, and to be honest with you... the joke match turned out plenty ridiculous, so it's hard to tell whether or not it was the behind the scenes stuff of the product of it that was more inane. And yes, I'm only doing this to annoy Thugg. Tbbbbttttt! -Z

Alright. I promised rankings as part of my campaign speech before I got comissionership, and now it's time to make good on it. A few notes, first, though... 1) I said that I'd do rankings after every show, but it occurs to me that with the system I want to use (and our schedule), that's not going to work. I'll see if I can't come up with some idea on how to do "Power Rankings" every few weeks, but I don't know if I'll be able to figure out a system that works all that well. If I can't, then you'll get just monthly rankings like Pete used to do for the JL. 2) My system is not Pete's system, because I don't remember his system. Mine goes like such: Rank is based on points, because titles need to have extra leverage, and a winning percentage ranking doesn't make that possible. 2 points is for a win, 0 for a loss, and 0 for a Double No-Show/No Contest. 2 points are additionally awarded for the following titles: HGC, CW, Tag and USJL. The ICTV earns 3 additional points, and winning the world title gives you 5 points. The Clusterfuck is worth 10. Successfully defending any title is one additional point. I believe Pete's system used to allow one additional point for beating someone else in a multi-man... I may add that to the scoring as well if the February rankings look as... odd as these ones do. Although I chalk this up mostly to the JLers only having two or three matches, which makes the rankings look kind of deflated. We'll see if it's balanced out at the end of the month. But ANYWAY, until then, here's a year-so-far reference... Charlie "Grappler" Matthews - 26 points (6-1-0) Wildchild - 19 points (7-0-1) Va'aiga - 15 points (5-2-1) Danny Williams - 13 points (3-2-0) Sacred - 13 points (4-1-0) Johnny Dangerous - 8 points (3-1-0) "The Notorious" John Duran - 8 points (3-3-0) "Coyote" Coy West - 6 points (3-2-0) Mike Van Siclen - 6 points (3-3-1) Michael Craven - 4 points (2-3-0) "The Superior One" Tom Flesher - 4 points (2-3-0) Toxxic - 4 points (2-1-0) Janus - 3 points (1-6-0) Aecas - 2 points (1-1-0) Alan Clark - 2 points (1-2-0) Ann "Ichiban" Onita - 2 points (1-1-0) Dace Night - 2 points (1-5-1) HVille Thugg - 2 points (1-3-0) Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix - 2 points (1-2-0) Todd Royal - 2 points (1-2-0) Ejiro Fasaki - 0 points (0-3-0) Crowe - 0 points (0-2-0) "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins - 0 points (0-3-0) Insane Luchadore - 0 points (0-3-0) Jacob Helmsely - 0 points (0-3-1) Judge Mental - 0 points (0-2-0) Manson - 0 points (0-3-0) Linchpin - 0 points (0-2-0) Stryke - 0 points (0-3-1) The Memphis Eel - 0 points (0-1-0) Xero - 0 points (0-1-0) Xstasy - 0 points (0-1-0) BIGGEST WINNERS AND LOSERS: WINNERS: Wildchild, Sacred and Charlie Matthews, no question. Wildchild remains UNDEFEATED nearly three months into the year, and Matthews Clusterfuck win isn't the only thing going for him: He defended the ICTV four times over the last two months, won the US title, and has only lost once. Sacred may surprise some people, but repeated title defenses add up fast, and the guy IS a former world champion. LOSERS: Dace Night and Janus. Dace and Janus only have one victory apeice, and both have been booked on almost every show since the year started. If it weren't for Danny Williams hot streak streak before his retirement, the Unholy Trinity would be setting a really awful precident... And that's all until the end of February, I think. Discuss!

Yeah, I believe the Unnamed actually already have the opening promo written, but Duran has neglected to point this out. EDIT: Oh, it's Duran and Janus? Close enough. -Z

Uhm... hell. Ejiro, sorry, that was my pulling my classic trick of not reading the card in full. Anyway. Win lose or draw, you'll probably end up in the US title match at FtF anyway (well, unless you win the ICTV contendership), although me putting you in this match was because I thought it was a standard contendership. So technically, uh, I guess you could consider it as both... -Z

Oh, hey, by the way... From the Fire is only two more shows away (I don't believe it either), so everyone may want to start thinking about what they're going to be up to at the PPV. -Z

Results! Blah blah lazy blah read it yourself blah blah. I will say that I'm... surprised by the main event, to say the least. I get the feeling that wasn't how it was supposed to go in the beginning, but something must have happened. Card up eventually.

Card: Falls Count Anywhere Match Toxxic v. Manson v. Mike Van Siclen So far, the Commissioner has been impressed with Toxxic's heart and skills, but he needs to know if the kid has what it takes to push through pain and adversity to make it in the dog-eat-dog world of the SWF. Thus, a brutal match with a brutal opponent and a wily veteran. Singles Match for the #1 Contendership to the SWF United States / Junior League Championship "Coyote" Coy West v. Jimmy "The Demon" Liston Two up and comers in the SWF get a shot to go after the gold at From the Fire. Nothing more, nothing less. Hey, every match doesn't have to have three paragraphs of explaination. Tag Team Match for the #1 Contendership to the SWF Tag Team Championship "The House of Todd" (Todd Royal & Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix) v. "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins & Jacob Helmsley Special Guest Commentator: "The Barracuda" Johnny Dangerous Four newly arrived JLers will set out to prove that they have what it takes to be the next Tag Team Champions and earn their place in the honor roll of SWF Champions. Singles Match for the SWF United States / Junior Leage Championship Sacred © v. Insane Luchador One of the longest serving JLers gets a shot at SWF gold once again. And this time he faces off against one of the greatest champions in Wrestling History, the man himself, Sacred. But the Sacred One went to the wire against Spike Jenkins just a few short days ago on Lockdown. Will he hold off the JL legend or will IL start a new legend tonight? Singles Match for the SWF Cruiserweight Championship WildChild © v. Alan Clark Alan Clark won a hard-fought match against the bright new start Toxxic to earn this match, meanwhile, on the same show, WildChild held on to his shiny new title belt in a four-star match against Landon Maddix. As promised, this match happens on Smarkdown!! Singles Match for the Intercontinental-Television Championship Charlie "Grappler" Matthews © v. Annie "Ichiban" Onita On Lockdown, The Grappler appeared to have turned over a new leaf. But the Commish has seen this before and is wary of the recently-booted Unnamed member. So tonight he is giving him a chance to prove himself. But Annie is no token opponent. The Hardcore Legend made her triumphant return to the SWF by pinning the World Champion in a non-title match on Lockdown and is looking to get some SWF gold back around her waist, so the Commissioner is giving the last active Carnie the chance. Main Event Barbed Wire Cell Timebomb Deathmatch for the SmartMarks Wrestling Federation World Heavyweight Championship Va'aiga © v. Dace Night Va'aiga dropped the leader of the Unholy Trinity on his noggin for daring to think he could keep the Maori Badass from the World Title. Dace Night, the new leader of the Trinity, has revenge on his mind. They have decided to settle this in a most unorthodox and dangerous match. The Commissioner has clear misgivings about letting this match happen, but it is going to happen. May God have mercy on them...

The camera returns to the image of the sold out Bryce Jordan Center from Penn State. The giant barbed wire and c4 covered cell hangs above the ring as the main event approaches. Comet: Well Citizens, we’ve had a fantastic show, with three title matches already. But now, we come to the main event. And I think I speak for all of when I say, I’m scared about this one. Riley: Why is Grand Slam even let this one go ahead? Why would anyone want to take part in a match like this? Yer Dace has this stupid notion of revenge for Danny Williams… but this is crazy! Comet: I can safely safe Robert this is one match I would never want to be part of. Ever. A nervous looking Funyon glances up at the steel cell above his head before taking a deep breath and beginning the introductions for the match. Funyon: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest will be a… Barbed Wire Cell Timebomb Deathmatch for the SWF World Heavyweight Championship. It will be for one fall, with no holds barred and if the match does not end before ten minutes, the c four covering the cell will detonate! The once frantic crowd falls silent as the take in the true level of violence that will be seen in the match. Funyon: Introducing firstly, from Birmingham England, weighing in at two hundred and fifty two pounds… he is the leader of the Unholy Trinity… The High Priest of Horrorcore… he is DACE… FUCKING! Funyon: NIGHT! RRRRRRRRRAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! Hero rips into life as the entrance ramp lights up with a wave of pyro explosions. Marching down the ramp. Almost ignoring the fans, Dace climbs into the ring, his face set with anger and hatred. Clenching and unclenching his fists, Horrorcore stares down the ramp to the entranceway, looking like a man possessed. Funyon: And his opponent, from Rotorua, Aotearoa, weighing in at three hundred and nine pounds… he is the leader of The Unnamed… The Maori Badass… the is the SWF World Heavyweight Champion… VA’AIGA! BBBBBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOO! WHAT’S MY NAME! What’s My Name kicks into the life, the bass echoing through the arena as Va’aiga strides down the ramp, his face set in a mix of hatred and desire for destruction. The expression isn’t helped by the cheek protector that still covers his face. Not even yelling at the fans, The Predator climbs into the ring and starts to stare Dace down. Funyon bails out as an extremely pale Soapdish climbs into the ring. The front row buckles and the crowd spills apart as John Duran, Todd Royal and Landon Maddix spill down from the crowds and leap over the barrier, past security into the ring. Comet: It’s the rest of The Unnamed! What the hell are they doing there? BBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Riley: Stopping this stupid match from going on it seems Comet! Dace spins around to face the other three members of The Unnamed as Va’aiga slams into him from behind, tackling the Unholy Trinity leader into the mat as a four on one beatdown starts. BBBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Comet: It’s a four on one beatdown on Dace Night! Was this whole thing just a set up? Duran drags Dace up to his feet and launches him across the ring, into a path of a of a BIG, EVIL, SO MUCH FOR ANY CHANCE OF REVENGE, YOU’RE JUST ANOTHER SKULL LLLLLLAAAAAAAARRRRRRIIIIIAAAAAAAATTTTTT! Riley: Dace just got Lariated into next week like he deserved! He wanted revenge and that was his shot at it! Grabbing a house mic handed to him by Royal, Va’aiga snarls to the cword… Va’aiga: You REALLY think I’m that bloody stupid to go through with this? FUCK YOU ALL! FUCK YOU ALL! FUCK YOU ALL! Pulling an almost unconscious Dace Night back to his feet, Va’aiga stares him in the eyes before leaning back and completely obliterating him with a second Lariat. Va’aiga: Let this be a lesson to everyone single one of you out there. Line up as fast as you like, you’re all going down. BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Comet: My god, this whole thing was a complete setup from the start! I should have known it! Riley: Well, I think everyone that needed to know, did know Comet. It’s just further proof of The Unnamed’s brilliant tactics to keep people like Dace Night in their place. As all four members of The Unnamed poses over Dace’s body, the image fades out.

“WE ARE!” “PENN STATE!” “WE ARE!” “PENN STATE!” As SWF Smarkdown returns to the airwaves, the capacity crowd in the Bryce Jordan Center greets the television audience with their stunning rendition of the famous PSU chant! As the camera pans around the arena, thousands of signs are caught, including “They’re Unnamed because they have bees in their mouths, and whenever they open their mouths to talk, bees come out!” Sadly, the sign is so large that the entire row behind that one sign can’t see a thing. But it’s the SWF, so all is well and merry! “Welcome back, citizens!” greets a familiar voice, “I’m Cyclone Comet, alongside Bobbo Riley, ready to call the penultimate contest in what has been dubbed the SWF’s Night of Champions!” “I think this may be the first exciting thing Grand Sham’s done in his reign as commissioner!” adds Riley, “Tonight we’ve seen the USJL and Cruiserweight Titles on the line already, plus this upcoming ICTV Championship match, AND the gruesome World Title match to come! I love it!” “Nice to see you so jovial, Bobbo,” replies Comet, “and as you said, up next, Citizen Charlie Matthews defends his vaunted Intercontinental Television Championship in his first match since winning the 2004 Cluster-eff! He has a big challenge ahead of him, though, as Citizen Ann Onita returned on Lockdown and defeated none other than the SWF World Champion, Va’aiga!” “Fluke, fluke, fluke,” shoots Riley, “there’s no way in HELL that could’ve happened under normal circumstances. And by the way, I can’t believe you’re not singing Grappler’s praises! Usually when a guy switches sides you’re all over him, commending him and whatnot.” “Bobbo, I think I speak for all of the fans and commissioner Stevens when I say we just can’t TRUST the man yet. Sure, I applaud his powerbombing of Citizen Matheson last week, but he’s done such nefarious deeds in the past, we can never be sure. For all we know, this is part of some elaborate swerve to join back up with the Unnamed!” “What makes you think that’ll happen?” “Bobbo, it’s professional wrestling.” “Ladies and gentlemen,” Funyon’s voice booms from the center of the ring, “the following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the S – W – F INTERCONTINENTAL TELEVISION CHAMPIONSHIP! Introducing first…” Megumi Hayashibara’s “Risky Gamble” echoes through the arena, and the crowd explodes just as the pyro does! *BOOM!* Really blue pyro shoots everywhere as Ann Onita appears on the stage, cigar in hand and sister in tow. “From Tokyo Japan,” continues Funyon, “accompanied by Allison Onita, this is ‘IIIIIIIIIIICHIBAAAAN’ ANNIIIIIIIIIIE OOOONIIIIIIIIITAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!” The wave of cheers from the crowd turns into a typhoon as Annie is greeted by one of the loudest ovations of the night. She smiles at the Pennsylvanians before sliding into the ring. Allison waves at some of the horny Penn State frat boys and takes her spot at ringside, clapping for her sister. “And her opponent…” Immediately, Metallica’s “Some Kind of Monster” kicks in and the lights dim, a single spotlight shining on the entrance to the arena. After the initial mixed reaction from the crowd, the lyrics of the song kick in and Charlie Matthews emerges from backstage, championship belt firmly around his waist and a look of complete determination on his face. “From Kansas City, Missouri, weighing in at three-hundred and one pounds, this is the Intercontinental Television Champion, this is CHAAAAAAAARLIE ‘GRAPPLER’ MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATTHEWSSSSSSSSS!!!!” The uneasy Penn fans continue their befuddling mix of cheers and jeers, but Grappler ignores them as he marches up the steps and steps between the second and third ropes into the ring. He coolly removes his belt and hands it to referee Nick Soapdish, before taking his place in the opposite corner of Annie. Soapdish lifts the belt into the air for the fans to see, and then shows it to both Grappler and Annie. Both competitors nod, and Soapdish signals to the timekeeper to begin the match! *DING DING DING* “This should be an interesting, INTENSE match,” notes Comet, “I’ve gotten word that Commissioner Stevens spoke to Nick Soapdish earlier, telling him to watch for every tiny rule infraction. This is going to be the cleanest action you can find.” “How does clean wrestling equal intensity?” questions Riley, “In my humble opinion, that just makes things BORING. And who ever said Nick Soapdish had the best eyes for the job, anyway?” Both competitors step out of their respective corners, and immediately a huge “ANN – E!” chant bursts out from the audience. Grappler ignores the chants and lunges forward; Annie catches the drift and does the same, and the two lock horns in a collar-elbow tie-up. With the obvious strength advantage, Matthews easily forces Onita against the nearest turnbuckle, but before Soapdish can intervene, Grappler releases the tie-up and backs off, allowing Annie to get out of the corner unscathed. As soon as Onita moves forward, Grappler charges again, looking for another tie-up, but this time Annie knows better, and she ducks under Matthews’ arms and wraps her arms around his body from behind, executing a waistlock. Charlie keeps his ground, however, refusing to let the miniscule Onita have her way with him. Quite easily, he breaks Annie’s waistlock and turns around, executing a waistlock of his own on Ichiban. Fluidly, he hoists Onita up into the air and spins around, dropping the Hardcore Queen stomach-first onto the mat, where he maintains the waistlock. “Bad, bad idea by the lesbian,” scoffs Riley, “I mean, really, who tries to actually WRESTLE with someone who has the nickname of ‘Grappler’?” ”Indeed, Bobbo,” agrees Comet, “that probably wasn’t the best idea by Citizen Onita, but these are only the opening stages of the match. As you’ve told me countless times, this only sets the stage for the later portions of the contest.” From the waistlock, Matthews quickly releases and grabs Annie’s arm, places it behind her back, and wrenches in a hammerlock. After a short period of time, Grappler transitions over to the right side of Ann’s head, releasing the hammerlock and wrapping his arm around her head, squeezing tightly with a headlock. Charlie milks this hold for all he can, but already Ichiban begins reaching towards the ropes, which she is not far away from. Despite Matthews’ best efforts, Annie gets closer…closer… and the tips of her fingers touch the bottom rope, which is enough for Nick Soapdish to call for the break! Grappler obliges, getting off of Annie and allowing her to reach her feet. When Annie gets to her knees, however, she swings her leg around and connects with a low kick to Grappler’s knee! The force of the blow causes Matthews to stumble, and Annie swings her leg around again, this time connecting with a kick to Charlie’s other knee! The Champion staggers back against the ropes, trying to hold himself up. However, Annie keeps the pressure on, rising to her feet and meeting Grappler with stiff knife-edge chops to the chest! *SMACK!* “WOOOOOOOOO!” *SMACK!* “WOOOOOOOOO!” *SMACK!* “WOOOOOOOOO!” “Correct me if I’m wrong,” begins Comet, “but I think Citizen Matthews underestimated Citizen Onita coming into this match! She certainly is surprising him with this flurry of offense, and this may lead to the Champion’s demise!” “You’re wrong, Comet,” shoots back Riley, “I mean, Grappler beat Annie in his first match back from injury in November, why should he worry about her now? If anything, she’s deteriorated.” With Grappler on the ropes, literally, Ichiban grabs him by the arm and attempts to whip him to the opposite ropes. However, with the weight advantage, Matthews is still able to turn around and reverse the whip, sending Annie to the ropes. What he doesn’t count on, though, is Annie rebounding and leaping into the air, connecting with a forearm smash to the Champion’s head that takes him down to the mat! The crowd EXPLODES as Grappler falls to the mat, and he scurries to a corner to recover. “ITCH – EE – BAHN!” “ITCH – EE – BAHN!” Annie and Allison both encourage the crowd’s chants, as Matthews easily rises out of the corner and approaches Annie again. Onita shoots a forearm at the head of the Champion, but Charlie catches it and BLASTS Ann with a forearm smash of his own. The blow rocks Onita, as he holds onto her arm and whips her towards the other side of the ring. As she rebounds, Matthews lunges for a clothesline, but Ann ducks! She runs towards the opposite ropes and comes back, before leaping up and shooting her legs out, catching Grappler right in the mouth with the Drop Kiss! The kick pushes Matthews against the corner, where he remains. Seeing this opportunity, Onita runs at Grappler and jumps up, pressing against his chest with her feet before vaulting backwards, completing a perfect back flip! The force causes Charlie to stagger out of the corner, and Annie is waiting for him, as she shuffles forward and shoots her leg out, nailing Matthews in the chin with a Super Kick! “You can’t say that Grappler has done his homework now, Bobbo,” proclaims Comet, “because Citizen Onita did the exact same combination of moves to Matthews during their last meeting in November! Obviously, he didn’t come into this prepared.” “Comet, you’re STILL wrong!” argues Riley, “…she used a buzz-saw kick instead of a super kick last time, I believe.” Riley sighs. As Grappler collapses to the mat, Annie quickly drops down and covers Matthews, as Soapdish makes the first count of the match! “ONE!” “TWO!” KICKOUT! Grappler shoots his shoulder off the canvas, but Onita pushes it right back down and covers him again, as Soapdish makes another count. “ONE!” “TWO!” SHOULDER UP AGAIN! Onita grabs Matthews by the head and starts to bring him up to his feet, but when he reaches his knees, Charlie sends a HARD elbow smash right into the challenger’s ribs! Annie doubles over from the strike, and Grappler rises to his feet and adds more damage by lifting his knee into her ribs. Matthews traps Ann in a front facelock from there, before grabbing her by the waist of her pants and lifting her upside down vertically in the air for a suplex…but Annie shifts her weight and drops onto her feet behind Charlie, wrapping her arms around him again in a waistlock! Matthews reaches forward and grabs onto the ropes, and he shoves Annie back, breaking the waistlock. Onita rolls backwards and gets to her feet again, charging at the Champion. As she approaches, Matthews ducks down and flips Onita over his head and over the top rope…but Annie lands on the apron of the ring! As Charlie notices this he runs towards the opposite ropes at Annie, but when he gets there she lowers her shoulder and drives it into his midsection. With Matthews doubled over, she flips over the ropes and grabs a hold of his legs, bringing him down onto his back in a sunset flip! Nick Soapdish rushes down to count the surprise pin as the Penn State fans get up out of their seats and count along! “ONE!” “TWO!” SHOULDER UP!! “This is unbelievable!” remarks Comet, “I mean, I thought Citizen Ann’s speed might be to her advantage, but never in a million years did I think that she would dominate this match like she has been!” “I’m very, very, VERY tempted to make an S&M joke after that comment,” smirks Riley, “but I’ll try to ignore it and call the match. I guess that shows just how much I’ve grown as a boy!” “We’re all proud of you, Bobbo.” As Charlie hurriedly gets up to a standing position, Ichiban goes with what got her the advantage in the first place, charging to the ropes and leaping into the air with a flying forearm smash…but this time, Matthews catches her out of mid-air! With his arms wrapped tightly around her midsection, Grappler turns on his heel and slams Ann down to the mat with a side belly to belly suplex! The crowd roars, but more at the ingenuity of the move than at Grappler performing it. Charlie is unchanged, however, as he immediately brings Onita back up to her feet. He stands side-by-side with her and reaches across her body, lifting her up horizontally before dropping to a knee and driving her back into it with a pendulum backbreaker. Instead of dropping her to the mat, though, Grappler presses his hands against her neck and legs, executing an agonizing backbreaker submission that looks like it could split Annie clean in half! “You know, Bobbo,” begins Comet, “if Grappler was trying to win these fans back, you’d think that he would, oh, I don’t know, stop using so many submission holds?” “Comet, you seem to forget, submission holds are a common aspect of wrestling,” replies Riley, “Of course, there’s a difference between The Old Grappler™ using them nonsensically and normal wrestling strategy, but you see my point. If he wants to weaken Annie for the finish, a submission hold would be a good place to start.” Hoping NOT to turn the fans even more against him, though, Matthews releases the hold and Annie slumps down to the mat. She crawls over to the nearest corner to recover, and Grappler moves to the opposite turnbuckle, waiting for her. As she gets up, Matthews musters up all the speed he can and charges forward, making a small jump in the air as he pumps his legs like a bicycle, shooting his left leg at Annie’s face…and she ducks! The momentum carries Charlie against the ropes, as his left leg goes over the top rope and he crotches himself! The crowd cheers at the sight of Grappler in an uncompromising position, and Ann tries to make the best of it. As soon as Matthews removes himself from the position, Onita moves into the same corner Charlie is in and quickly climbs up to the second rope, where she captures her adversary in a front facelock. From there, she spins around like a tornado, looking to drill Matthews into the mat with a DDT…but Charlie holds still and brings Annie down to her feet, before charging at the nearest turnbuckle and driving her into it back-first! Still holding on with an iron-tight grip, Matthews backs out of the corner and arches backward, flipping Annie up and over onto her back with a release northern lights suplex! “And, finally,” starts Comet, “it looks like Charlie Matthews is starting to hit his stride. Once the confidence is built, this man is seemingly unstoppable.” “Oh, the confidence has been built since he walked into the building,” replies Riley, “he just waited until the opportune time to throw down the power moves and suplexes. Matthews knows what he’s doing at every second in the match; even if he is an idiot for dumping Matheson.” “Bobbo, it wasn’t Matthews that dumped Math-“ “Yeah, yeah, that’s what they ALL say, Comet. Grappler sure can be a greedy bastard.” Hoping to wow the Penn State fans with a suplex duplex, Grappler brings Annie right back to her feet and stands behind her, ducking under her arm and hoisting her into the air for a backdrop suplex…but Annie flips back and lands on her feet behind Matthews! Ann turns around and charges at the ropes, hitting them and building up speed as she comes back at the champion. Grappler turns around just as Annie leaps up sideways at Charlie, looking for a cross body block, but again Grappler catches her, before charging forward and slamming Annie down with a MAORI DROP! The crowd roars as the move is hit and Matthews stays on top of Onita, as Nick Soapdish counts the pin! “ONE!” “TWO!” SHOULDER UP! Grappler rises back up to his feet, before shouting to the fans and the television audience and specifically some unnamed wrestlers in the back, “THIS MOVE SUCKS!” The crowd roars at the proclamation, but Annie is still feeling the pain on the mat. “What a move by Grappler!” commends Comet, “not only stopping Citizen Onita’s momentum cold, but also sending a message to our World Champion!” “Things like that should be illegal!” cries Riley, “I mean, after all, it *IS* theft! Poor Va’aiga, having his move desecrated by a cretin like Grappler using it! This is unjust! Unfair!” Matthews walks over to Annie’s legs and grabs a hold of them, trying to turn Onita over with a Boston Crab! Ichiban holds fast, though, not letting Grappler turn her over that easily. Both competitors continue to fight, until Charlie finally overpowers Ann and turns her over, sitting back and executing the Boston Crab! Onita cries out in pain, struggling and trying to do whatever she can to fight the hold. From ringside, Allison leads the crowd into a clapping and stomping frenzy, trying to fuel Annie’s momentum. “This submission could play a key role in the match,” notes Comet, “as Grappler knows he has to somehow stop these spurts of momentum Citizen Onita keeps getting. A Boston Crab is a great way to stop things like that.” “Good to see you enjoying it,” scoffs Riley, “Personally I liked it when he just went from rest hold to rest hold; it seemed to be a lot more effective.” Matthews continues to wrench in the hold, sitting back and cranking on Onita’s already hurt back. With five feet between herself and the ropes, Ann desperately reaches her arm out, shortening the gap to a little more than two feet, but still, no dice. The energy continues to be sucked out of the challenger, but despite Nick Soapdish’s questioning, she refuses to quit. Finally, she is able to summon up the power to inch forward, towards the ropes that seem so… far… away… She gets closer and closer, despite Grappler’s efforts, and is almost within reaching distance of the ropes…when Grappler stands up and pulls Annie away from the ropes, right into the middle of the ring! “Citizen Matthews is eerily reminiscent of a pit-bull dog!” Comet helpfully points out, “Both in the face and in his tenacity!” “Great analogy, Comet,” replies Riley, “but you basically got it right. Grappler’s going to keep Annie in the center of the ring until she taps, whether she and the fans like it or not.” As Grappler attempts to sit back in the Boston Crab again, however, he loses his grip on one of Annie’s legs, and he’s forced to reapply the move. He turns Onita onto her back and bends down, grabbing a tighter grip on her legs, but as he does, Ichiban reaches up…and pulls Matthews down into a small package pin! The crowd roars at the surprise, and Soapdish counts the pin! “ONE!” “TWO!” “THREENOOOOOOOOO!!!!!” Grappler barely rolls his shoulder off the canvas, just escaping defeat. Both competitors reach their feet at the same time, however, and Annie greets Matthews with two hard forearms to the head! With Charlie stumbling around the ring, Annie backs into the ropes and charges forward, flying through the air and this time, taking him down to the mat with a cross body block! Onita gets right off of Grappler and steps between the ropes, onto the apron. As Matthews rolls onto his stomach and gets on all fours, she springboards up onto the top rope and leaps off in a sitting position, dropping her leg right across the back of Charlie’s neck! The blow rattles Charlie, but he continues to get to his feet. Ann rushes to the nearest turnbuckle and climbs to the second rope, waiting for Matthews to get up. As he does, she leaps off, trapping him in a front facelock as she spins around, drilling Grappler’s head into the mat with a murderous DDT! The crowd explodes as Matthews flops onto his back, and Onita leaps on top of him to make the pin! “ONE!” “TWO!” GRAPPLER GETS HIS ARM ON THE ROPE! The crowd dies down as Matthews’ ring presence saves his title, but he doesn’t look too well. “Matthews gets the ropes!” cries Comet, “I wonder if he realizes how close he came to losing his title!” “I’m sure it doesn’t matter to him,” replies Riley, “after all, when you’re champion, you just look at the big picture.” As Matthews slowly pulls himself to his feet, Annie runs to the ropes again, building momentum as she approaches the ICTV Champion. However, in a last ditch effort, Grappler bends down and is able to pick Annie up on his shoulders, and in one fluid motion he flips her over, right onto the back of her neck with the Judgment Slam! The crowd erupts at the sight of the move, and Grappler simply falls on top of Ann as Nick Soapdish counts the pin. “ONE!” “TWO!” SHOULDER UP! “Citizen Matthews just can’t let that happen!” notes Comet, “we’ve seen many times already that he can easily give up an advantage, and that’s never good!” “The man’s a fool, Comet,” explains Riley, “see, he’s too worried about the fans. They’re uneasy around him, and understandably so, and that’s messing him up. If he just didn’t try so hard to please these fans, he might be more fluid in his ways.” Trying to keep the advantage in his grasp, Charlie picks Annie off the mat and places her in a standing headscissors, before reaching down and flipping her up onto his shoulders for the POWERBOMB…but Onita struggles, struggles, and wriggles out of Grappler’s hold, landing on her feet behind him! As Matthews turns around, Annie spins her leg around and nails Matthews in the back of the head with a LOUD enzuiguri! *SMACK!* The force of the kick causes Grappler to drop to his knees, and as he does, Ann runs to the ropes and builds speed as she prepares for lift off with a Shining Wizard – and Matthews rolls out of the way! Onita hits the mat as Charlie avoids any danger, easily getting back up to his feet. As Ann does the same, Matthews meets her with a kick to the midsection, before placing her in another standing headscissors. This time he is able to flip her up…and SLAM HER DOWN TO THE MAT WITH THE POWERBOMB!!! The crowd sits in stunned silence as Matthews falls on top of Ann, and Soapdish counts the pin! “ONE!” ”TWO!” “THREEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!” NO! ANN GETS HER SHOULDER UP AT THE VERY LAST TENTH OF A SECOND! The crowd EXPLODES, “ANN – E!” chants resounding through the Bryce Jordan Center. “JOVIAL JESSIFER JUMPING JESUS!” alliterates Comet, “Matthews’ time-tested finishing maneuver, the Powerbomb, couldn’t even keep Citizen Onita down for the three count. WHAT WILL IT TAKE, BOBBO? What in the name of Middle Earth will it take?!” “Icy hot and a stick of gum,” muses Riley, “I’ve heard that’s worked well on many an occasion.” “Bobbo, you’re no-selling the drama of the moment. Can’t you just eat it up with a spoon?!” In absolute shock, Grappler brings Onita right back to her feet and looks to place her in another standing headscissors, but this time Annie expects it, and with the small amount of energy and adrenaline she has left, she sends two swift headbutts into Matthews’ midsection! The blows catch Grappler off guard, and Annie follows it up with two kicks to the same area. With Grappler suitably stunned, Onita places HIM in a standing headscissors, and the crowd, simply put, explodes! As Annie places both of the Champion’s arms in a double underhook, a familiar phrase comes out of some twenty-thousand mouths in the arena… “GOOOOOOOOOOD MORNING!” Annie prepares to drive Matthews’ face into the mat, leaping up, but Matthews stays still! Refusing to go down to the Daybreak, Grappler grabs Annie by the legs and charges forward, driving the Hardcore Queen right into the turnbuckle, right into her already worked-over back! “Holy bovine, Bobbo, Grappler just escaped the Daybreak Pedigree!” proclaims Comet, “and it is unbelievably amazing in its sheer simplicity and beauty!” “Hey, Comet, you were talking earlier about how Grappler hasn’t been studying the lesbian?” questions Riley, “well, I’d just like to remind you that the counter you just saw was the SAME EXACT ONE Matthews used against Annie in that same fateful match back in November! How’s that for not studying?!” “Touché, Bobbo, touché,” is all Comet can reply. Grappler backs up…and charges forward again, driving her into the turnbuckle a second time! Matthews backs up…and runs Ann into the turnbuckle a third and final time! As Onita practically goes limp, Matthews pulls her out of the turnbuckle and captures her in a front facelock! Quickly, the champion grabs Ann by the waist of her pants and hoists her into the air, holding her upside down for five full seconds before snapping around and falling on top of Ichiban with a powerslam to complete the infamous Jackhammer suplex! “That’s…that’s the Wake Up Call!” Comet sputters, “named so by Citizen Matthews since it wakes up the crowd after such a boring match. You know, Bobbo, it’s odd, because this may be the least-boring Charlie Matthews match I’ve ever witnessed!” “I’m glad you’re admitting it, Comet, because it’s over! Annie looks like ground beef at the Doublemeat Palace, ready to cook.” “I’m not counting her out yet, Bobbo, we’ve already seen her kick out of Matthews’ powerbomb! Who KNOWS what kind of crazy feminine immunity she’s been building up since she left?” “I’m not coming NEAR that one,” replies Riley. A good portion of the crowd actually cheers as Matthews connects with the move, completely exhausted from the punishment he’s taken. After what seems like an eternity, he collapses on top of Annie again, and Soapdish counts the pin! In a last ditch effort to keep Annie alive, the Bryce Jordan Center resounds with more chants! “ANN – E!” “ITCH – EE – BAHN!” “ONE!!!!!!” “ANN – E!” “ITCH – EE – BAHN!” “TWOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!” “ANN – E!” “ITCH – EE – BAHN!” THREEEEEEE!!!!!!!!” …but the dream dies. *DING DING DING* Metallica’s “Some Kind of Monster” blasts through the speakers again, and the cheers are quite noticeable as Matthews rolls off of Annie and Nick Soapdish goes to retrieve the belt. Finally, Grappler uses the ropes to pull himself up to his feet and Nick Soapdish hands him the belt as Funyon makes the official announcement. “Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this contest, and STILL S – W – F INTERCONTINENTAL TELEVISION CHAMPION, CHAAAAAAAAARLIE ‘GRAPPLER’ MAAAAAAAAAAAATTHEWSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!” “What a HUGE win for Charlie Matthews!” proclaims Comet, “he has defeated the woman who defeated the SWF World Champion on Lockdown! If Va’aiga wasn’t worried before, he DAMN sure better be worried now! Boo-yah to you, you big ugly goof!” “Your words are strong and fearsome, Comet,” Riley notes, sarcastically, “and the Unnamed must be just QUIVERING with fear now. Grappler beat a WOMAN. Big deal.” “Bobbo, that woman beat the Unnamed’s leader, as I already mentioned. And now that Grappler beat her…why, we may have a new Champion come From the Fire!” “…if we don’t already have a new champion coming up next,” moans Riley, “Comet, I think it’s time to put the windshield up, because there’s going to be blood EVERYWHERE.” “Right you are, Bobbo, and we’d better put on masks…….well, looks like I’ve got that covered. Folks, coming up next, Va’aiga puts the Title on the line against Dace Night. It’s about revenge. It’s about pride. It’s about time bombs and barbed wire and lost limbs. It’s the main event, and it’s up next!” Meanwhile, in the ring, Charlie Matthews acknowledges the cheering fans…and extends his hand out to the still-grounded Annie Onita. In a surprising act of trust, Annie takes Matthews’ hand, and he brings her up to her feet. The two nod at each other and the fans roar at the sight as the picture fades to a commercial. “ANN – E!” “GRA – PULL – ER!”

“We’re just about ready for tonight’s Cruiserweight Title match,” says Comet. “And folks, last week, on Lockdown, Alan Clark managed to defeat newcomer Toxxic to earn a shot at Wildchild’s Cruiserweight Championship! And tonight, he’ll get a chance to test his skills against a superstar that he says he’s admired for quite some time!” “If you ask me,” intones Riley, “Clark got a little bit of a pass for this match; I mean, it’s just his dumb luck that more worthy contenders were already tied up. No offense to Toxxic, but with the likes of Todd Royal, Landon Maddix and even Manson running around here, the fact that Toxxic was the one who ended up going against Alan Clark with a title shot on the line only goes to show that Stevens is showing favoritism towards Clark!” “That’s a pretty strong accusation,” admonishes Comet. “I can’t imagine that Commissioner Stevens would ever deliberately do something such as that!” “You can’t be that naïve,” replies Riley. “He’s already exhibited overt bias against the Unnamed, Michael Craven and HVT; do you really believe that he’s not biased in favor of Clark?” “Well, speaking of HVT,” continues Comet, essentially no-selling Riley’s point, “Last week on Lockdown, after Alan Clark returned to the backstage area following his match, he found himself the victim of a brutal attack by Thugg!” << Flashback: The screen switches to a clip from Lockdown of Thugg attacking Alan Clark backstage: >> WHAM!! …AND IS FLOORED BY A GIGANTIC SPEAR!!! (Comet) – OH MY GOD!!! SOMEONE JUST SPEARED ALAN CLARK RIGHT OUT OF HIS BOOTS!! (Riley) – JESUS CHRIST!! Clark goes flying backwards and smacks his head against the wall where he was just tapping his hand. The camera zooms out and reveals HVT standing over a crumpled and grimacing Alan Clark. HVT reaches in his pocket and pulls out an index card, after which he tosses the index card on Clark’s battered body. (Comet) – THUGG!! I should’ve known! That son of a… (Riley) – Careful Comet! He might hear you and then come after us! (Comet) – Someone has to stop Thugg! He’s a monster…and I heard he did this to other people before the CF. This is ridiculous! HVT backs away from Clark’s destroyed body, and he can be heard laughing as the he backs out of the camera’s view. The camera then zooms in on the index card lying on Clark’s body… Welcome to the SWF. You are officially my bitch. HVT << The screen now shifts to later on in the evening, when Thugg came down to the ring. Comet’s voice is heard over that of HVT badmouthing Alan Clark, Michael Craven and Spike Jenkins >> Comet (VO): And later on that evening, Thugg came down to the ring, and basically called out every superstar in the SWF… CRACK! RAAAAAAAAAA!! (Comet) – OH MY GOD!! THAT’S NOT SPIKE JENKINS!! Comet (VO): But, as far as the commissioner was concerned, he’d gone over the line for the last time! (Stevens) – You listen to me Thugg…and you listen very very close! I am sick of your bullshit! I’m sick of you bullying my talent…I’m sick of you thinking you own this place…I’m sick of your shitty wrestling…I’m sick of your complaining…I’m sick of you attacking people…I’m sick of you injuring my roster…plain and simple…I’M FUCKING SICK OF YOU!! << Skipping ahead >> (HVT) – Oh yeah…what you gonna do, Mark? (Stevens) – The only thing I can do…the one thing that anyone would do in my position…Thugg…Damien McKinney…as of right now…you are no longer an employee of the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation…YOU ARE FIRED!! RAAAAAAAA!!! (Comet) – YES!! YES!! FINALLY…FINALLY…SOMEONE HAS PUT A STOP TO THUGG’S TERROR! (Riley) – That’s a little extreme don’t you think? (Stevens) – Now…gentlemen…if you don’t mind…please escort Mr. McKinney from the building! Suddenly, about 12 police officers emerge from the back and head straight down to the ring, while Thugg stands there in total shock. << Skipping ahead >> HVT drops the microphone and slides out of the ring as “Go Home” hits the speakers once again. The fans go absolutely nuts as HVT snatches his arms away from one of the officers, determined to leave under his own power. He stomps back up the ramp with the cops at his heels as Lockdown fades to commercial. << The scene then shifts to the closing shots of Lockdown… >> Comet (VO): And then, as Thugg was leaving the building, he found a little insult added to his injury! The fans die down after an amazing main event, and the scene is immediately cut to the outside. HVT is found exiting through the loading entrance, where the very same lanky man stands. “Fuckin’ Mark…he’s gonna pay…oh, he’s so gonna pay,” HVT says to himself. He sees the lanky man and gives him a hard look… (HVT) – Yo…where’d you park my ride cuz? (Man) – Uhhhh…it’s over there in the first row. Uhhh..but…ummm…someone came out and… (HVT) – Shut up yo! I ain’t even tryin’ to hear what you gotta say. I just lost my fuckin’ job…and someone’s gonna get they ass whooped over this shit. You want is to be you? Didn’t think so. HVT storms away from the man and walks outside to the first row of cars. He sees his Cadillac parked near the end of the row, and he walks to it, but then he stops suddenly… …when he sees his gold Cadillac virtually destroyed! (HVT) – What the (bleep)?!? He walks around his car and finds his front windshield shattered, all of his side windows broken, and his rear window cracked and splintered. He grimaces as he finds his hood has been smashed in and his rear bumped dislodged. He screams out, “(BLEEP)”, when he sees that each one of his tires has been slashed, and then he lets out his loudest roar when he sees that his 28” rims are lying next to his car, each stomped nearly flat. (HVT) – Who…what?? Finally, Thugg finds as he looks inside his car, on the front seat, an index card. He reaches in and picks up the card, reads it, and immediately throws it to the ground. Enraged, HVT storms away, leaving his battered car in the parking lot as he heads for the street. The camera, however, does not follow, and instead zooms in on the index card. Welcome to the SWF. You are officially my bitch. << End Flashback >> “As you all just saw,” concludes Comet, “Thugg might have gotten the better of Alan Clark earlier in the evening, but it would appear that Citizen Clark got in the last word!” “Comet,” says Riley, “if you think for a second that Clark got in the last word on Thugg, then you’re even goofier than that mask makes you look! Thugg may have been fired, but he’s not about to let some no-name like Alan Clark get the better of him! Clark isn’t safe anywhere in the world until Thugg finally gets through with him, regardless of whether he’s working in this company or not!” “What are you implying,” asks Comet. “Because there’s no way that Thugg would be allowed into the arena! First of all, he’s in Washington DC right now. And secondly, even if that were all some kind of elaborate hoax, he still wouldn’t even dare; the second he tried, Central Pennsylvania’s finest would be on hand to escort him back out of the building!” “Yeah,” replies Riley, “but you’re forgetting, Comet; Thugg’s from the streets! I don’t think that he cares all that much whether or not he’s working for the SWF when it comes to revenge; Clark better keep his head on a swivel, because the second that he lets his guard down, Thugg is going to come from out of the shadows and wreck his (bleep)!” MUWHAHAHAHA! A sinister belly laugh precedes the familiar waiting of an electric guitar! The State College crowd becomes anxious as DMX’s “Who We Be” begins to play. THEY DON’T KNOW… WHO WE BEEEEEE… “What was that you were saying about Thugg not daring to come to the arena,” laughs Riley. THEY DON’T KNOW… WHO WE BEEEEEE… “It can’t be,” exclaims Comet. WHAT THEY DON’T KNOW IS… BOOM! The stage explodes in a wall of fire, leaving only a small path in the center. The fans become increasingly restless as they expect Thugg’s imminent arrival, and sure enough, a silhouette eventually becomes visible from behind the wall of fire. “Here he comes,” exclaims Riley. “This should teach you to doubt Thugg! He wouldn’t dare, huh?” “Wait a minute,” says Comet, squinting towards the stage. “That’s not Thugg!” Suddenly, the crowd breaks into a mixture of cheers and laughter as they see not the HVille Thugg, but Alan Clark stepping out onto the stage! He has a white Turkish bath towel over his head, and poses at the head of the ramp, openly mocking Thugg! “It’s Alan Clark,” shouts Comet. “But what’s he doing coming out to Thugg’s music?” “Signing his own death warrant, that’s what,” spits Riley. “Don’t think for a second that Thugg is going to just let this slide!” Clark reaches the foot of the ramp and dives towards the ring, sliding underneath the bottom rope and quickly returning to his feet alongside Funyon, who raises the microphone to his lips to make the introductions. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he says, “the following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the SWF Cruiserweight Championship! In the ring at this time, from Long Beach, California, weighing two hundred twenty-five pounds, ALAN CLAAAARK!” “You know,” growls Riley, as Clark prances around the ring, continuing to mock Thugg, “seeing this kid in the ring like this makes me resent Stevens even more!” Comet looks askew at Riley. “What are you babbling about now, Robert?” “This nutjob isn’t deserving at a Cruiserweight Title shot,” Riley says caustically. “By all rights, that belt belongs to the Unnamed! Whether it be Landon Maddix, or the Lord Todd himself, Wildchild’s just keeping that belt warm for them. Clark isn’t anywhere close to their level, and has no business being in this match!” Clark tosses the towel into the crowd as “Who We Be” slowly fades out, and the Pennsylvania fans become frantic as the lights dim throughout the Bryce Jordan Center, heralding the arrival of the Cruiserweight Champion! ATTENTION! ALL YOU NIGGAZ! ALL YOU BITCHES! TIME TO PUT DOWN THE CRISTAL, TIME TO TAKE OFF THE ICE FOR A MINUTE… TIME TO THROW A LITTLE MUD IN THIS MOTHERFUCKA… The fans erupt as Redman’s “Let’s Get Dirty” begins to pulse throughout the arena. A single spotlight pierces the darkness, focusing on the stage entrance even as it flickers on and off in rhythm with the music. In between flashes, the Cruiserweight Champion hops out onto the stage, proudly wearing the Cruiserweight Title around his waist as he rushes to the head of the stage, holding his arms in the air as the crowd cheers! “Alan Clark better take his mind off of Thugg right now,” shouts Comet, “because here comes the Cruiserweight Champion!” Wildchild jogs down the ramp, slapping hands with the fans, and takes a victory lap around the ringside area before somersaulting between the bottom and middle ropes to enter the ring. “His opponent,” continues Funyon, as Wildchild hops down from the ropes, “from the Bahamas, weighing two hundred fourteen pounds, he is the SWF Cruiserweight Champion… the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!” Wildchild surrenders the Championship belt to referee Anthony Michael Hall, who holds it aloft for all to see before handing it to Funyon as he is leaving the ring. “Alan Clark is an outstanding Cruiserweight wrestler,” says Comet. “He’s fought through a lot of adversity to get to this match against Wildchild, a superstar that he has personally looked up to. Time to find out if he actually has what it takes to shock the world and become the new Cruiserweight Champion!” Wildchild and Alan look across the ring at each other as Hall motions to timekeeper to ring the bell, signifying the start of the match. DING! DING! DING! “Bell’s gone,” says Comet, “And we’re underway!” Clark and Wildchild circle each other around the ring, with the crowd already on the edge of their seats in anticipation. DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! Wildchild stops to acknowledge the cheers of the fans, clapping his hands in rhythm with their chants. As if in rebuttal, a small but very vocal contingent of fans across the arena begin to chant for Alan Clark: AL-AN! AL-AN! AL-AN! AL-AN! Clark waves his hands in the air as if to say, “That’s more like it.” He and Wildchild continue to circle each other again before meeting in the center of the ring for a collar-and-elbow tie-up. Wildchild quickly transitions into a side headlock, but Clark backs him against the ropes and pushes him across the ring. SMACK! Wildchild flashes back off the ropes, using his speed more than either size or strength to his advantage to catch Alan by surprise, knocking him to the mat with a shoulderblock! Clark remains on the canvas as Wildchild bounces off the ropes again and runs over the top of him. He pops to his feet and leaps into the air as the Tropical Tumbler somersaults underneath him, and races towards the edge of the ring the second his feet touch the canvas. This time, it’s Wildchild who drops to the mat as he bounces off the ropes and runs over the top of him… WHAM! … But the Human Hurricane leaps into the air as Clark bounces off the ropes a second time, wrapping his legs around his neck and jerking him through the air with a beautiful rana! Wildchild floats over into an immediate pin attempt as Hall dives into position to count the shoulders: ONE! But Clark kicks out easily at one! Wildchild gets back to his feet and walks over to Hall, arguing a slow count… WHAM! … Allowing Clark to sneak up behind Wildchild and wrap his hands around the Champion’s waist, jerking him backwards off of the mat and into a German Suplex pin! ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! “It’s been pretty even so far in this match,” notes Comet, as Clark pulls Wildchild to his feet. “It looks like it’s going to be the speed of Wildchild versus the relative power of Alan Clark!” Clark wows the crowd with an impressive display of strength, lifting the Bahama Bomber above his head in a military press, with a little effort, and carrying him over to the edge of the ring… CRASH! … Dumping him to the outside! “Look at the power display by Alan Clark,” exclaims Comet. “He got Wildchild up in the air and dumped him outside the ring like a bad habit!” Hall begins to start his ten-count as Wildchild recovers outside the ring: ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! Alan waits until Wildchild gets back to his feet and then races towards the edge of the ring, tumbling into an acrobatic cartwheel sequence as he bounces off the ropes, and leaping over the top rope to the outside of the ring… SPLASH! … Twisting in midair before crashing into the Caribbean Cruiser with a Space Flying Tiger Drop! “The Pitch Drop,” marvels Comet. “Shades of the Wildchild himself! I guess we don’t have to worry about Thugg being on his mind!” “Believe me, Comet,” replies Riley, as Clark rolls back into the ring, “when you cross paths with somebody like Thugg, he’s ALWAYS on your mind!” Wildchild uses the apron and the bottom rope to pull himself back to his feet, and crawls underneath the bottom rope… WHAM! … Only to be met by Alan Clark, who measures him for a textbook legdrop! Clark pulls him to his feet, but only long enough to lift him off of the canvas and drop him back down with a scoop slam! Alan runs across the ring, bouncing off the ropes to build momentum, and races back towards the Cruiserweight Champion… SPLASH! … Leaping into the air on a dead run and flipping forward through the air and crashing into Wildchild with a running Shooting Star Press! He hooks the outside leg as Hall delivers the three count: ONE! TWO! THR— NO! “Just barely missed out on the three count,” shouts Comet. “I thought that running Shooting Star Press might be enough, but the Champion dug deep to hang on in this match!” Clark steps out onto the apron as Wildchild recovers inside the ring, and makes his way over towards the corner, but the Human Hurricane pops to his feet suddenly and beats Alan to the corner, leaping onto the middle turnbuckle and springing over the top rope… BANG! … Snaring him by the head while in mid-flight and driving his head into the padded arena floor with a Springboard Tornado DDT! “BIG TIME DDT by the Wildchild,” shouts Comet. “Alan Clark made the mistake of letting his guard down against the Cruiserweight Champion, and it’s cost him severely!” Wildchild rolls back into the ring as Alan is gathering himself out on the arena floor, and walks over to the corner, scaling to the top turnbuckle. “Don’t think for a second that Wildchild is going to let Alan Clark get the better of him in a high-flying contest! Look out for some aerial artistry!” Wildchild leaps off the turnbuckle towards center of the top rope, his body facing the inside of the ring. He lands in a seated position on the top rope as Clark gets back to his feet outside the ring… SPLASH! … And springs from that very same seated position backwards out of the ring, flipping backwards through the air to crash into Clark with an unconventional but spectacular moonsault press! DUB CEE! DUB CEE! DUB CEE! DUB CEE! The crowd chants out Wildchild’s initials to express their pleasure with his aerial offense as the Bahama Bomber gets back to his feet. He pulls Alan to his feet as well and leads him over to the ring apron, rolling him underneath the bottom rope. Wildchild pulls himself onto the apron and vaults over the top rope, landing on the opposing middle rope and springing backwards… SPLASH! … Crashing into the challenger with a springboard moonsault! Wildchild hooks the outside leg as Hall drops down to count the shoulders: ONE! TWO! THRE— NO! “Two count only,” shrieks Comet. “Citizen Clark is still in this match!” Wildchild stands up and pulls Alan to his feet. Grabbing him by the wrist, he whips him across the ring, but the challenger reverses, catching him as he bounces off the ropes and launching him skyward… WHAM! … And grabbing him by the feet at the apex of his ascent, whipping his body around abruptly to slam him into the mat with the Southern Rock! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! “By Thor’s Hammer,” shrieks Comet. “He pulled that Southern Rock out of NOWHERE! Wildchild never saw it coming!” Rather than try for the pinfall, Clark rolls Wildchild over onto his back and locks their feet together before bending down and slapping the Champion’s ribs, forcing him to draw his arms to his sides out of reflex. “Uh oh,” moans Comet, as Clark grabs Wildchild’s wrists and begins to lean back. “It looks like we could be about to see a surfboard here!” The challenger leans back, hyper-extending the Caribbean Cruiser’s limbs, as he holds up towards the sky in a Mexican surfboard. Hall drops to a knee and asks Wildchild whether or not he wants to submit, but the Champion vigorously shakes his head no. “Wildchild’s fighting for all he’s worth to get out of this hold,” reports Comet, “but Citizen Clark is definitely in the driver’s seat right now!” Alan is so focused on applying pressure to the surfboard, however, that he fails to notice that his shoulders are flat against the canvas. Unfortunately, this fact does not escape the referee’s notice, and Hall begins to count a pinfall: ONE! TWO! TH— Realizing what was at stake, Alan manages to roll forward slightly to get his shoulders off the mat… SPLASH! … But the momentary lapse in concentration proved to provide the Bahama Bomber with just enough time for him to fight out of the submission hold, and twists around in midair, crashing into Clark’s chest with a short body press! ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! Clark kicks out of the pinfall attempt easily and beats Wildchild to his feet, hammering him in the back with a clubbing forearm shot. Grabbing him by the wrist, Clark whips him across the ring, and launches him into the air once more as he bounces off the ropes… WHAM! … But this time, the Human Hurricane continues to rotate forward in midair and lands in a seated position on the challenger’s shoulders, and then locks his legs behind Alan’s head before arching his body backwards, ripping him through the air with a scintillating rana! “Never underestimate the agility of Wildchild,” shouts Comet, as the Tropical Tumbler pulls his opponent to his feet. “You’re never more than an instant away from being taken down with this guy!” Wildchild wraps his arm around Alan’s head, trapping him in a front facelock, but the challenger reverses, grabbing Wildchild by the wrist and twisting it into an arm-wringer. “Wildchild may have the speed advantage,” notes Riley, “but Clark appears to have the stronger wrestling background, and it’s only a matter of time before Wildchild starts to slow down!” Wildchild’s brain starts working in high gear, thinking of a way to escape the arm-wringer, and then he realizes that’s he’s within arm’s length of the ropes. Reaching out to grasp it with his free arm, the Caribbean Cruiser uses the rope to support his weight as he flips forward to alleviate the pressure of the hold. Before Alan can even react to it, Wildchild takes off at breakneck speed across the ring, his hand still linked with that of the challenger. The Bahama Bomber leaps onto the top rope and immediately springs off, floating gracefully through the air over the top of his opponent and jerking him off his feet as he lands on the canvas, launching Clark into the corner with a breathtaking springboard armdrag! “Springboard armdrag,” shouts Comet. “That’s vintage Wildchild right there!” Wildchild backs into the opposite corner as Alan pulls himself to his feet across the ring, and suddenly takes off, leaping into the air as he draws near to his opponent… SPLASH! … And twisting around before crashing into Clark with his patented twisting vertical body splash! “Blue Crush,” cries Comet, as Clark staggers out of the corner. “Boy, a springboard armdrag, and now the Blue Crush! Wildchild’s going deep into the bag of tricks tonight!” WHAM! Wildchild runs towards the ropes behind Clark as he staggers out of the ring and takes flight once again, trapping the challenger from behind with a flying side headlock and driving him face-first into the canvas with a bulldog! Upon landing on the canvas, the Caribbean Cruiser handsprings to his feet and spins his hands together overhead, the sign for the Falling Star Press! “Falling Star Press,” exclaims Comet, as the crowd begins to buzz in anticipation. “It’ll be back to the drawing board for Alan Clark if he hits this!” Wildchild runs towards the edge of the ring and leaps into the air, landing on the top rope. He then springs backwards as he flips in a forward motion to crash into the challenger with his patented Falling Star Press! CRASH! … But Alan Clark rolls forward at the last second, and Wildchild crashes into the canvas! The impact causes the Bahama Bomber to bounce up to his knees… CRACK! … And the challenger seizes his opportunity, rolling to his feet and suddenly breaking into a cartwheel, whipping his leg around suddenly to smack Wildchild in the face with a Tidal Crush kick! “By Zeus,” screams Comet. “One Hit Wonder! He pulled that out of NOWHERE!” Alan collapses on top of the Champion’s chest and waits for Hall to get into position to count the pin: ONE! TWO! THR— “No,” shrieks Comet. “Wildchild barely got the shoulder up! Oh my, was that ever close!” Alan stands up and pulls Wildchild to his feet, grabbing him by the wrist and whipping him across the ring, but the Human Hurricane surprises him by reversing the whip attempt… WHACK! And leaping into the air as Clark bounces off the ropes, slicing his leg through the air sharply to nearly decapitate the challenger with a fierce leg lariat! “Big time leg lariat,” shouts Comet, as Wildchild rolls to his feet. “That could spell the end for Alan Clark… And now, Wildchild’s going to the top!” The Tropical Tumbler walks over to the corner and leaps onto the top turnbuckle in one fluid motion. He measures his opponent’s position before leaping fearlessly off the turnbuckle, rotating his body along a horizontal axis as he extends his arms in a crucifix position… SPLASH! … Crashing into Alan’s chest with his patented twisting body splash! “Andros Dive,” cries Comet. “That’s going to do it!” Wildchild pulls back on the leg and the crowd chants along with referee Hall’s count: ONE! TWO! THREE! NO! “Oh my,” screams Comet. “Wildchild is pulling out all the stops in this match, but the challenger will not stay down!” Clark rolls over onto his stomach as Wildchild gets to his feet, slapping his thigh to indicate the Caribbean Cutter. The crowd cheers in anticipation yet again as they sense the end at hand. “This looks like the end,” says Riley. “No way that Clark gets up from the Cutter!” Wildchild runs to the ropes as Alan gets back to his feet, leaping into the air as he approaches the challenger’s bent frame and extending his leg over the back of his neck… OOF! … But Clark steps out of the way as the Bahama Bomber lands in front of him, and stuns him with a kick to the midsection long enough to trap him in a side headlock, spinning around suddenly while maintaining control of Wildchild’s head and dropping his weight to the canvas… WHAM! … Planting him face-first with Getting Amped Neckbreaker! “By Zeus,” exclaims Comet. “Alan Clark is Getting Amped! And we know what this means!” “It can’t be,” moans Riley, as Clark runs over to the corner and climbs to the top turnbuckle. “He’s not worthy! That title belongs to the Unnamed! The glory of taking that belt away from Wildchild belongs to them; he CAN’T win!” Alan glances back over his shoulder to make sure that the Champion is still motionless, and then prepares to launch himself off of the turnbuckles… MUWHAHAHAHA! … When the crowd suddenly lets out a collective gasp as that familiar belly laugh penetrates the airwaves once more! “No,” shrieks Comet. “That’s impossible!” THEY DON’T KNOW… WHO WE BEEEEEE… “I-I-I thought you said he was in DC,” stammers Riley. THEY DON’T KNOW… WHO WE BEEEEEE… “He is,” babbles Comet. “I mean, he has to be!” WHAT THEY DON’T KNOW IS… BOOM! Alan Clark’s attention is now completely trained on the stage, which becomes engulfed by fire. “Where is he,” asks Comet. “Bobby, do you see him?” “I can’t see anything after that pyro,” replies Riley. “Oh man, what was Clark thinking, getting involved in Thugg’s business?” “Getting involved in Thugg’s business,” challenges an exasperated Comet. “Thugg started this, not Citizen Clark!” The flames finally subside, and no one appears to be forthcoming from the back. “Who We Be” fades into the ethereal and still nothing, causing Clark to look out into the crowd apprehensively. “Clark is looking out into the crowd for Thugg,” notes Comet. “It looks like he’s still worried about him sneaking up on him!” “I don’t know why,” says Riley. “It’s not as if Thugg is the kind of guy that can hide!” Unnoticed by Clark, Wildchild regains consciousness and, seeing the challenger poised upon the top turnbuckle, springs into action! Racing to the corner and leaping up to meet Clark on the top turnbuckle, the Human Hurricane locks his hands behind the challenger’s head as he plants his feet into his stomach as he arches back… WHAAAAM! … Launching Clark off of the turnbuckle and three-quarters of the way across the ring with a monkey flip off the top! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! “By Hippolyta’s Girdle,” shouts Comet. “Freefall from the top rope! What an AMAZING maneuver!” Wildchild rolls to his feet and runs up behind Clark, the impact of the fall having nearly knocked him back to his feet. The Caribbean Cruiser tucks his head underneath Clark’s arm, locking his arms with those of his opponent as he lifts him off of the canvas, suspending him upside-down off of shoulders before kicking his legs out… WHAM! … Planting him head first into the mat with the Wild Ride! The crowd erupts as Wildchild rolls over to cover his opponent, and Hall drops down to count the pinfall: ONE! TWO! THREE! DING! DING! DING! “Let’s Get Dirty” begins to play once more as Hall orders the timekeeper to ring the bell, and then walks over to the edge of the ring to retrieve the Championship belt and return it to Wildchild. “Here is your winner,” says Funyon, “and STILL SWF Cruiserweight Champion… the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!” “Spectacular performance by the champion to retain his title,” says Comet, “but I can’t help but wonder how them match might have ended differently if not for Thugg! I’m sure he had something to do with that music and the pyro!” “Maybe,” replies Riley, “but you can’t prove it. At any rate, I’m happy that Wildchild won tonight, if only because it preserves the honor of dethroning him for the Unnamed! Your days are numbered, kid!” Wildchild remains on his back, clutching his title to his chest and breathing heavily… As we: FADE OUT

Fresh off of the EXCITING~ and EXHILARATING~ USJL Title match between Sacred and the Insane Luchador, Ben Hardy traverses the halls of the Bryce Jordan Center, looking for either his virginity or HVT's wrestling ability. During his search, however, he bumps into a mountain - well, more like a hill - of a man, with the Intercontinental Television Championship belt draped across his shoulder. Grappler eyes Ben Hardy up and down as the Penn State fans react to the sight with a mix of cheers and jeers (words only used because they rhyme). "Mis- Mister Matthews!" greets Hardy, "I apologize, I was just looking around for something, but hey, since you're here, would you mind me asking you a few questions?" "I surmise that I probably don't have a choice," replies Matthews, rolling his eyes, "but go on, Ben, I'm in a good mood." "Well, actually, that was my first question; how are you feeling after the Unnamed's betrayal and your subsequent joining of the Unholy Trinity? But I guess you ans-" "Whoa whoa whoa, hold up a second, Ben," interrupts Grappler, "did you say 'join the Unholy Trinity'?" "Actually, sir, I said quote, 'and your subsequent joining of the Unholy Trinity' unquote, but you came close." Charlie sighs before responding, "Ben, I *never* joined the Unholy Trinity, and I never will. Just because they helped me out against the Unnamed doesn't mean I'm in their little group. Just because we have common enemies doesn't mean we're buddies. I still hate Dace, I still hate Aecas, and I still hate Janus. None of that has changed. I respect them, yes, but I will never be friends with them. I hope I've made that clear. Next question." Hardy backs off a step, but then summons the courage to continue, "Now, uh, what are your thoughts on the main event tonight, where your former stablemate and current world champion, Va'aiga, defends his title against Dace Night in a Time bomb Exploding Chicken McCheese Deathmatch?" "To say I'm miffed would be an understatement," begins Grappler, "and for the record, miffed is a bizarre word to begin with. Regardless, I'm upset with Dace getting a title shot so early, seeing as I actually *earned* it by beating 19 other guys in the Clusterfuck two weeks ago. Sure, I'm guarenteed my shot at From the Fire in a two straight falls match regardless of who the Champion is, but I need to be ready for whoever I'm facing." "Is there any preference as to who wins this match?" "With the time bomb and what not, I'm thinking both guys explode and die and the title's vacant." Ben's eyes widen and he slowly backs away, but Grappler laughs a bellowing laugh and pulls Hardy back. "Ben, that was my attempt at comedy. Bear with me. I'd like to see Dace win this; I've proven time and time again that I can beat him, and From the Fire would be no different. Like I said, I respect the guy, but a World Title match against him would be a cakewalk. But Va'aiga, I really, really, REALLY hope you win tonight. Your kicking me out of the Unnamed was only the START of your demise, sir, and when it's all said and done, you're going to wish you never crossed me." Matthews lets the words sink in, and then turns to Ben. "That sounded a bit too cliché, didn't it?" Hardy nods, and finally speaks, "Ye-yes sir. Umm, final question, what do you think about Annie quotation marks Ichiban quotation marks Onita returning and making a big impact and whatnot?" "Ah, right, I almost forgot about Annie beating our World Champion. Hey, that just makes the job easier for me. She beat Va'aiga already, and when I beat her tonight, that'll just further cement my status as the next SWF World Heavyweight Champion. Clusterfuck, ICTV Title, US Title, Tag Team Title...Annie, I've accomplished too much in my short SWF tenure to have you return for the 45,263,212th time and steal my thunder. Tonight, I make an example out of you. Insert catchphrase here." Matthews storms off, leaving Hardy along again in his search for his virginity.

The last commercial slowly fades out and we return to SWF programming, with a shot of The Bryce Jordan center, which is absolutely packed to the rafters with hungry fans, thirsty for more SWF action! “They must be awfully malnourished.” “…Who are you talk-“ “Welcome sports (entertainment) fans! I am, as always, your number one superhero, sitting with Robert Riley as we get set to shift this show up a gear with a fabulous, absolutely stupendous title match!” As he graphics of Sacred and Rickmen are thrown up on screen and the crowd let out a raucous, impromptu cheer, Riley responds. “I hope the match can live up to your wild expectations, Comet. Both Blackwell and Rickmen have had tough schedules as of late, with Rickmen taking an absolute beating in the cage match on Lockdown, and Sacred trying desperately to hold onto his title in some stalwart defenses. One has to wonder, Cyclone, whether they’ll be up for tonight’s encounter?” “Are you kidding!?” asks a bewildered Superhero. “For Rickmen, it’s a chance to redeem himself and show us all that he isn’t going to be taken lightly! He has a chance to prevail where other Junior Leaguers have failed, by taking that title away from the vile clutches of that nefarious cretin, Sacred!” “Impossible, I say. Sacred is showing that certain something that he hasn’t had in so long, and I believe I his abilities, and I believe he will dispatch of this puny Junior Leaguer in no time!” Just as he is about to rebuff, the awkward quiet in this arena is suddenly broken as ‘The Gauntlet’ kicks up to a huge response from the capacity crowd! The pyro at both sides of the stage explodes in a flurry, as that crazy cracker himself, the Insane Luchador, makes his appearance at the top of the stage! “Here he is! And don’t the crowd love Citizen Rickmen!?” admires Comet as he gazes out at the fans, cheering on insanely. “Despite how they may be feeling physically, both men will strive relentlessly for the USJL championship! Sacred has been quoted as saying that he feels the SWF titles have been passed around more than ‘a cheap French harlot’ and wants to keep that title around his waist as long as he can!” “And that he will do, my crazy companion. Just look at this guy, he’s an absolute joke! He should be on the streets, trying to impress pre-teen chicks with his l33t sk8ting abilities…” Luckily for Riley, Rickmen doesn’t hear those comments from Riley, as he comes out with a crazy look in his eye. He milks the crowd for all there worth, raising his arms and prompting even louder cheers! As he sprints down to ringside, Funyon announces to the crowd from his vantage point in the center of the ring… “Ladies and Gentleman…” he begins in his announcing tone. “The following match is for the S W F United States Junior League championship!” The prospect of such a match whips the fans into a frenzy, and causes a snaky grin to appear on Rickmen’s face. “Introducing first, from Easton Pennsylvania, standing six foot one, and weighing in at two hundred and six pounds… he is a former Junior League Champion… he is the INSSSSAAAANEEEE LUUUUUCHAAAAADOOOOR!” As the fans continue to cheer, Comet continues. “You may not take Citizen Rickmen seriously, Robert, but Sacred better gosh darn sure will if he knows what’s what! Two former Junior Leaguers have taken him to the extremes, to the limit Robert, and he better take them seriously if he wants to keep that title around his waist!” Rickmen begins his warm up, knowing the importance of it after last weeks massacre in the cage. Even as the picture begins to garble and become filled with static, he puts it out of his mind and continues to prepare himself. A voice suddenly strikes up through the PA system and sends a chill through the spines of each audience member in attendance, and commanding their undivided attention… … “…There is nothing wrong with your television set…” “…Do not attempt to adjust the picture…” “…I will control the horizontal…” “…I will control the vertical…” “…I am controlling transmission…” … The picture is soon returned to the control of the boys in the back, before the lights fade out. ‘Tainted’ begins to play its chilling, haunting tune as Sacred walks out to meet his adoring public, who greet him with the usual hate and loathing that they always do. Cyclone shakes his head as he watches his former stablemate begin his slow stroll down the ramp. “I cannot believe I ever fraternized with such a despicable specimen…” “Why bring Axis into this?” Spotlights at either side of the stage swivel around, casting their luster upon Blackwell as he simply smirks, ignoring the fans jeers as he places his hands on the belt around his waist, keeping it close to him. “And his opponent…” Funyon suddenly booms to the audience, breaking the downright creepy atmosphere. “From Adelaide, Australia. He stands six foot one inches tall, and weighs in at two hundred and sixteen pounds…” Hopping up onto the ring apron, Blackwell enters the ring, immediately circling Rickmen like a hawk, sussing out his opponent as Funyon finally announces… “He is the S W F United States Junior League Champion… he is… SAAAACCCRRREEEEDDDD!” An inundation of hostility flows into the ring, but Sacred simply proceeds with his pre-match warm-up, just happy to hear the fans respond so loudly for him. Rickmen moves his head from side to side, trying to remove the kinks from last show’s brutal match. “And we’re nearly set to go here on Smarkdown once again, as both men approach each other in the center of the ring. This is the first meeting between these two, If I’m not mistaken, and I’m usually not,” notes Cyclone, grinning profusely at his own perfection. “Hard to believe isn’t it? These two have been with the company so long, and they haven’t yet crossed paths. They’ve seen a lot of changes in the SWF, and must be angered to see this crop of new schoolers dominate the SWF as they have been…” Unlatching the title from around his waist, Sacred takes one last loving look at it before handing it to the referee, who holds it up high for all the fans to see! They respond with utter enthusiasm as Funyon leaves the ring with the title, and the referee points to the timekeeper to ring the bell! ‘DING! DING! DING!’ The two begin to circle, watching every move the other makes. While in this state of heightened readiness, Sacred gives a knowing little nod to Rickmen, and a sincere look as the two prepare to hook up. Rickmen returns it as the two hold their arms up, twiddling their fingers as they come closer and closer together. Knowing not to strike so fool heartily as he did last week in the cage match, Rickmen keeps a safe distance before they finally hook up, entering into an elementary test of strength. Much to Sacred’s surprise, Rickmen’s youthful enthusiasm gets the better of him as the former JL champion begins to push him back! To counter this, Blackwell rolls onto his back, dragging Rickmen down with him as he plants his feet into the Luchador’s chest and sends him flying with a monkey flip! “Even Citizen Sacred knows to respect his opponents. The one’s that deserve it anyway,” notes Cyclone. “There’s that certain amount of bitterness and churlishness about Sacred that I just love.” “Are you looking through my thesaurus!?” Yells Comet, swiping away his precious wordsmith. Despite the early setback, Rickmen rolls right back to his feet, just in time to anticipate Sacred’s charge and counter with an Arm Drag! Sacred pirouettes back onto two feet, a smile on his face as Rickmen smirks, waiting for him. The fans are intrigued by the disposition of both men as the Luchador feels confident enough to charge at his opponent, only to have him sidestep at the last second. Rickmen hits the strands, hopping over Sacred who lies on the canvas. Blackwell twirls back to his feet and leaps from a standing start, latching onto Rickmen’s neck and snapping him over with an Ankle Scissors! “Sacred slides over quickly for the cover, but Rickmen immediately kicks out after only a second!” cries Comet. “This is sure to be a tight contest, with neither man having a distinct advantage in height or weight, though one could argue that Sacred has more experience.” “One could, and it could be me! Sacred’s been to the big dance over and over again, and knows all the trick of the trade to squeak through in even the most heated contests.” Before Rickmen can climb to his feet, Sacred maneuvers himself into position, slapping on a front face lock. Both men are on their knees now as Sacred torques the Luchador’s neck, but Rickmen begins to stir and writhes himself free. In a flash he takes Blackwell by the arm and moves to the side, taking Sacred down with a spinning armbar! The Australian cries out as the Insane one spins around again and again! “Shades of Tom Flesher with Sacred’s choice of the front face lock,” notes Comet wisely. “But Rickmen was up to the task and countered into a very painful spinning armbar!” Still holding onto his opponents arm, Rickmen flips over the top of him and rolls him up schoolboy style! O N E! But Sacred kicks out with relative ease and immediately finds his feet to meet Rickmen. The Luchador attempts to surprise Blackwell by leaping up onto his shoulders, ready for a Hurricanrana! Sacred is all no dice mate and flips Rickmen off of his shoulders! The Insane one flies through the air but lands back on his feet, very awkwardly. The split second it takes for Rickmen to regain his footing is all Sacred needs to grab him by the hand and pull him into a rising knee lift! With Rickmen doubled over, Sacred has enough time to grab him tightly by the waistline and throw his arm over his head. Sacred then lifts Rickmen off the mat to a complete vertical base, ready to drop him! Suddenly, the Luchador slips free, floats over and lands behind the Aussie! Before Sacred can react, Rickmen leaps into the air and dropkicks him in the back of the head! “We can see already,” Comet notes, “that this will be extremely back and forth! If one Citizen lets up for even a split hair of a second, the other will pounce, and pounce with brutal efficiency!” “Efficient is not the best way to describe Rickmen. There’s no method to his madness, no technique to his torture, he just wants to hurt his opponents in every way possible, and if he doesn’t watch himself, Sacred will wait and pick his spot and incapacitate him just like he did to that chump Jenkins!” The Sacred One hits the ropes chest first and bounces back as the Insane one waits eagerly. He latches on Sacred’s neck and runs forward, using the ropes as a springboard to launch himself into the air, twist around and absolutely plant Sacred with a Bulldog! The fans let out rousing cheers as IL moves into the cover! O N E! T W – But the Australian kicks out! The Aussie attempts to retreat and regroup, but Rickmen will have none of this as he pounds on his opponent with hard right hands while lifting him to his feet. The Luchador attempts an Irish Whip but Sacred reverses, sending the Luchador into the strands. As Rickmen returns, Sacred charges out of the blocks and takes him down with a Flying Forearm! Rickmen is stunned but rolls back to his feet, only to have Sacred connect with a Leg Lariat and hit him in the jaw! The Insane One lives up to his name however and keeps getting back to his feet, ready to take more and more punishment. Sacred is only too happy to oblige as he kicks the Luchador in the breadbasket and shoves him into a standing headscissors! “He may be looking to rub out Rickmen only minutes into this contest!” Riley cries happily, waiting to see the carnage after his move. “It’s a mistake I tell you Robert! IL has absorbed all the pain he’s delivered thus far and is still too fresh for Citizen Sacred to even attempt such a move!” Comet’s claims turn out to be wise words as Sacred lifts the Luchador up onto his shoulders and runs from corner to corner, attempting the running Lyger Bomb on the Luchador! Sacred suddenly loses his grip on the Luchador as IL falls behind his opponent! Sacred then barrels chest first into the turnbuckles and is forced backwards from the hit. The Luchador goes up top onto Blackwell’s shoulders, and then spins around, taking Blackwell down into the turnbuckles with a flying headscissors! “Sacred hoped he could surprise Citizen Rickmen, but it was not to be! He’s made some rookie mistakes in this match, very uncharacteristic of him wouldn’t you say Robert?” “Pish posh! Everyone is prone to make at least one little mistake, even me! The importance of each match for him has multiplied ten-fold each week, because he knows that if he loses one bout, just one single bout, the powers that be will make sure that he never breaks through the midcard ceiling!” “Oh please!” argues Comet, shaking his head furiously. “You can’t expect me to believe that! Citizen Sacred has made his own choices and he has only himself to blame for never reaching the heights he once did!” “That’s pure, unadulterated crap! The Kliq has kept him down! The Kliq has controlled him! The Kliq holds that glass ceiling in place! The Kliq-“ As Riley’s feed is suddenly and suspiciously cut, IL has Sacred in the center of the ring, simply wailing on him with right hooks! Sacred begins to waver as Rickmen throws him into the ropes with an Irish Whip, but Sacred hooks his arms around the top rope to prevent himself from going any further! Rickmen charges once again, but Sacred bats him away with a boot to the face! This doesn’t stop IL for long as he charges again, but Sacred hits him again! The Luchador stumbles backward, giving Sacred time to confront him with… “CRACK!” … A brutal knife-edge chop! “A thunderous knife-edge chop from Citizen Blackwell!” Comet cringes, hearing the blow. “One of his specialties and a great equalizer!” “Yes, his specialty, and just about everyone else in the damn fed….” “CRACK!” Another is delivered, leaving a beet red mark across the Luchador’s chest! IL cringes as Sacred takes him by the hand and attempts to whip him into the turnbuckles, but Rickmen digs in and suddenly stops the flow! Sacred tries once again but IL hangs on! Suddenly reversing the momentum, the Luchador counts the Irish Whip with one of his own, sending Blackwell into the turnbuckles! IL rushes forward and jumps up onto his opponent, hands on his shoulders and feet digging into his thighs, ready to take him over with a Monkey Flip! Sacred counters this by grabbing the Luchador and throwing him over the top rope! “Oh no, this doesn’t look good, Citizen Rickmen could land in a very deathly posit- NO! He holds onto the top rope and lands on the apron!” yells Cyclone. “IL keeps thwarting Sacred’s genius plans! Damn ruffian, he’s obviously learnt his lesson from last week and avoiding every move Sacred tries on him like the plague!” “That’s right Robert. He was man handled by Aecas in that cage, and no matter how much punishment he can take; he finally buckled under the strength of that maniacal monster! But this week, he’s facing an opponent his size, and his very pride on the line as he attempts to redeem himself and win that USJL Championship!” As the commentators blabber on, IL surprises Sacred with a shoulder charge through the second rope to knock him away! With Sacred stumbling across the canvas, IL places his hands on the top rope and leaps up onto the top turnbuckle… then flies off, sailing through the air and crashing down on top of Sacred with a Crossbody! “Beautiful move from the Luchador, taking advantage of the situation once again! And he’s covering!” O N E! T W O! But again, Sacred finds enough in reverse to kick out! The crowd is up and cheering, not disappointed in the slightest as they watch IL take it to the Australian! Blackwell rolls onto his feet however, determined to strike back. IL keeps the pressure applied as he whips Sacred into the ropes, waiting for him to return. The Australian ducks underneath a wild clothesline and continues into the opposite strands. As he returns he tries to leap into the air and take IL around the neck for a Tornado DDT, but IL counters smartly by simply dropping Blackwell down across his knee with an Atomic Drop! With the Australian checking to see if his loins are still there, IL kicks him in the midsection and locks on a front face lock, planting him with a DDT! “Nasty, nasty DDT for a nasty man! Citizen Rickmen drives the evil Australian’s head into the canvas, and could have it right here, an- wait… he’s pulling Citizen Blackwell back up into another face lock!” “Shite! He’s looking for the rolling DDT’s! I don’t blame him for trying these so early though, because, and I hate to admit it, but he’s absolutely schooled Blackwell and looks in a commanding position…” Rickmen adeptly rolls back onto his feet, dragging Sacred up with him, still holding onto his neck. This time, though, he has the Australian in a reverse front face lock! The crowd leaps to their feet as Rickmen raises his arm before dropping Blackwell down on the back of his head with an Inverted DDT! “Amazing!” cries Cyclone. “Citizen Rickmen knew that Blackwell, in all his experience, would be expecting another DDT in much the same fashion, and so mixed things up to confuse and decimate his opponent, and it worked no less!” Riley pleads, praying to the heavens above. “Damn it, Sacred! Don’t let the Kliq win! Kick out, please! Don’t let this Junior Leaguer take the title!” The Insane one makes a point float over and hook Sacred by the leg as the referee slides over, slamming his palm on the canvas for the count! O N E! T W O! T - But Sacred rolls his shoulder off of the mat! “YEAH!” cries Bobbo as the crowd sighs; almost sure IL could have had the match won right there. Rickmen remains determined and focused however, as he lifts the Australian back onto his feet… still holding into his neck! This time, though, he signals to the crowd that this is the end, as he prepares himself for the Evenflow DDT! Knowing too well the dangerous situation he’s in, Blackwell takes advantage of IL’s momentary distraction by wrapping his arms around his waist, linking his hands together and taking IL over onto his back with a Northern Lights Suplex! With the Luchador’s shoulders pinned to the mat, the referee counts, the fans calling desperately for IL to kick out! O N E! T W O! T H - “Where did that come from!?” Comet asks, utterly surprised, and gutted. “IL had it won, I’m sure of it!” “That came straight from last week,” Riley answers with a sly grin. “IL should have studied his tapes, because if he had he would have known that Sacred used that same exact move to counter from that position against Spike Jenkins!” And IL gets his shoulders off the canvas to break the count! But not in the conventional manner as he pulls himself up and off the canvas, the two men still held together! From this position, IL walks to the corner, using the turnbuckles as stepping-stones to reach the top and launch off, flipping over and landing in front of Sacred! The Australian is ready for him and gives him a swift kick to the gut, before lifting him up to a vertical base for a Brainbuster! Blackwell, try as he might, is losing his grip on Rickmen as he resists, wriggling and writing to get away. The fans are about to cry out in unison, as IL is about to drag Blackwell down into a roll up… …But Sacred acts quickly, turning around a throwing IL over the top rope and out onto the floor! The fans watch Rickmen fly through the air and unceremoniously hit the floor, his legs buckling as they hit the concrete floor! “NO!” Comet shouts, shaking his head as he watches Rickmen cry out in pain, grabbing his leg. “Just as the tide was about to turn again, Blackwell counters like the convict he is!” “Oh boy, that was quite the nasty tumble the Luchador took there,” Bobbo replies mockingly. “I do hope he’s ok, or Sacred will…” Before Riley can even finish his sentence, Blackwell has made his way outside of the ring. The referee pleads to bring this title match back into the ring, but Sacred has other, cruel intentions in mind. IL drapes himself over the crowd barrier as fans pat him on the back for support, which really does help when a crazy, violent Australian is looming over the top of you. Said Australian grabs the Luchador and picks him back up, his eyes focusing firmly on that leg as he grins maniacally. Sacred lifts Insane off the concrete by his left ankle and drops his knee across the crowd barrier! Riley is very pleased. “And now Sacred goes to work! IL landed hard right on that left leg and it buckled. BADLY,” saying badly with a big, stupid smile on his face. “This is unjust treatment! Over the last month, Sacred’s opponents have gotten the better of him, but he always finds an equalizer in a weak spot on their body! Just as he’s doing now, working on that left leg happily! Just despicable!” The crowd “OOH!” as Sacred lifts IL up again and drops him leg first across the steel steps! “CLANG!” IL lets out a piercing cry as he folds up into a ball, trying to protect his leg. The referee’s count reaches five, as Blackwell stops to chat with some of the fans, asking them if they’d like to join an ‘experiment.’ While he does this, IL intelligently rolls back into the ring! Blackwell’s eyes open wide as he chases the insane one back into the ring, breaking the referee’s count. “Very n00bish of Citizen Sacred to let IL get away like that!” Comet shouts. “IL is in safer territory, but will have to combat Sacred and a bad leg to prevail…” Sacred mercilessly attacks the leg, stomping on the knee at will while IL tries to drag himself away into the corner. Sacred doesn’t let up though as Rickmen pulls himself to his feet valiantly, trying to force Sacred away with right hands! These work only momentarily as Sacred goes right back to leg, lifting it up and then taking IL over with a Dragon Screw Leg Whip. Blackwell makes sure the move positions IL in the center of the ring, before gazing out at the fans who boo him terribly, calling for IL to fight on! Sacred sets out to dash their hopes as he takes IL’s left leg and spins around, grabbing his opposite leg and… “It’s the Deprogrammer!” cries Comet. “An upright figure four that could make any one tap! But with IL only minutes ago injuring that leg, it could be all over!” “You bet your ass it’s over! This move defeated Mak Francis, made him give up! And now with both men positioned in the center of the ring, he’ll make the Insane Luchador tape too!” The crowd is suddenly hotter than ever, the entire audience calling for IL to hold on just al little bit longer! Sacred has the best seat in the house as he looks over IL, wrenching on his legs in one twisted mess. IL tries desperately to do anything to counter, trying to wrench his legs away, but Blackwell is in a perfect position to knock him back down with forearms! “Listen to this crowd get behind Citizen Rickmen! He sure is a fighter, and will work through any pain to succeed!” IL plans to prove Cyclone Comet correct as he begins to rock on his back, trying to build up some momentum as the crowd begins to chant his name! Sacred’s smile soon vanishes as he is worried by Rickmen’s fight and he tries to knock him back down. The Insane one shakes his head, smiling as he rocks over further, sending the two onto their side. The crowd suddenly explodes as IL digs his fingernails into the canvas and pulls himself over, reversing the move to his advantage! Now Sacred is the one feeling the pinch! “He reversed it!” Comet shouts, literally jumping out of his seat! “Sacred didn’t expect him to withstand so much pain and didn’t sink the hold in as much as he could, and Rickmen showed his INSANE tolerance for pain by fighting through it and reversing the move!” As soon as the tables are turned, Blackwell crawls forward as quickly as he can and grabs the bottom rope! He is forced to let go and climbs back onto his feet, but IL is there to meet him! Rickmen fires off some right hands; taking out his frustrations through his fists as he rearranges Sacred’s face. He then whips… No! It’s reversed! IL is sent into the strands and bounces back, lifted up into the air by Sacred, and sent in a spiral by a tilt-a-whirl! … But the Luchador lands back on his feet! No matter how much it pains him to counter in such a way, he works through it, waiting for Sacred’s enraged charge and cutting it short wit ha drop toe hold! Sacred hits the canvas face first but rolls right back to his feet, only to see Rickmen leap onto the second rope, then the top rope, springboarding off and hitting Sacred with a Moonsault! “HOW!? How can he perform such a move!? His leg has been torn to pieces, yet he can still spring around like a freaking jumpy… thing!” “Citizen Rickmen is no rookie! He’s been around and he’s perfected his moves, his strengths! And one thing he is the foremost expert at is using those ropes to his advantage to spring from anywhere and with only ONE leg!” The crowd goes absolutely nuts as IL covers Sacred, the referee sliding over quickly to count the three! “O N E!” “T W O!” “T H R E E E E…” “He’s got it! We’ve got a new champion!” Comet shouts happily! …But NOOOO! Sacred kicks out! The fans are furious! They call for the referee to be hanged as IL looks up desperately at the unlucky referee who simply shrugs his shoulders, holding up only two fingers. Rickmen shakes his head but knows his time is short and has to dispatch Sacred pronto. Blackwell tries to cut him off, suddenly hooking his arm underneath Rickmen for the Spanish Inquisition! The crowd pops for the move they haven’t seen in so long, but pop even harder when IL bats him away with back elbows to the side of the head! Blackwell is knocked silly by the elbows and is turned around, allowing Rickmen to take him in a Full Nelson! “Citizen Rickmen is on the Bring of Insanity, ready to hit the Brink of Insanity!” “NO! Sacred has to do something, and knowing him, he has something in mind even now!” But Rickmen is able to continue with the move, running to the turnbuckles and using one leg to hop onto the second rope, followed by the third as he twists around… … But Blackwell wrenches his arms free as Rickmen falls to earth, grabbing him by the knee and bringing it down across his leg! The crowd all rise as Rickmen cries out, and Blackwell takes him in a front face lock… “This is it! He’s going for it!” “I can’t believe he countered! Rickmen had his finisher countered at the last possible second as the dastardly and devious Sacred takes advantage and slams his knee against his own!” The crowd pull for Rickmen, but Blackwell holds him in place, bringing his leg up, tightening his grip around Rickmen’s neck and swinging his leg back… “WHAM!” … Hitting the… “CRUEL FATE!” Both announcers cry, Riley in orgasm, Cyclone in despair. Rickmen’s face bounces off the canvas and his body lies limp as Blackwell feels the recoil of the move, grabbing his stomach, but slowly rolling over to drape his shoulder across IL’s chest… “Kick out you crazy Luchador! You’re so close!” Comet vainly shouts, almost already resigned to his fate. “O N E!” “T W O!” “T H R E EEEEEEEEE!” DING! DING! DING! The crowd are on their feet and jeering together as Sacred slides away and out of the ring, landing on his feet and making another swift getaway as the referee slides out of the ring with his USJL title, handing it to him and raising his arm in victory. Comet shakes his head, trying to continue as “Tainted” kicks up. “Andrew Rickmen was so close to claiming his first piece of SWF gold, only to be denied by the cunning crafty Sacred, taking advantage of that injured leg to pull through!” “Tish pish sure nonsense! Blackwell wants that title, and wants to win more than anything, and will DO anything to pull through. If anyone else were in his position, they would have done the same! But, at the same time, I have to give IL his props. He fought one helluva match tonight…” “That he did my ambiguous friend, and I know we’ll see him pursuing more gold soon enough, but Citizen Sacred is the winner and he keeps that United States Junior League title, for now at least, but something’s gotta give Robert, mark my words!” The picture fades out to a commercial, showing Sacred cling to the title, keeping it close to his chest…