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the.weej

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  1. the.weej

    SWF AFTERSHOXXXXZcXXXxXXxX

    "Time now to take a look back at the main event of the Clusterfuck," Ben Hardy says, bringing us back to the Aftershox studio. "El Luchadore Magnifico has been absolutely unstoppable since his return, and it was beginning to seem like no one would ever manage to take the title off of him..." "... then, a few months ago, JJ Johnson got on a roll... a huge roll... he eventually entered the Cold Front Classic, and defeated TORU Takahara in the final round to earn a title shot at the Clusterfuck. Many people thought Johnson was poised to pull an upset, much like TNT did a few years back. Others were adamant in their claim that Magnifico was going to walk away with his championship in tact." "Who was right? Well, let's take a look." ==== "After an intense start, the match began to go Magnifico's way..." "But soon, Johnson would find the opening he was looking for, and he began to take the Champion to town..." ==== "With Johnson firmly in control of the match, it seemed like it was only a matter of time before we had a new World Heavyweight Champion... but anyone who's anyone knows you can't count El Luchadore Magnifico out." ==== "And there you have it," Hardy says as we come back to the studio. "It was a hard fought, somewhat controversial victory, but in the end Magnifico retains his championship. Barring any unforseen circumstances, it will be Wes Davenport versus El Luchadore Magnifico at From the Fire. Talk about a mismatch, huh?" "Y-" "Don't answer that." "..." "Stick around - we've got more Aftershox action coming up next!" Fade out...
  2. the.weej

    SWF AFTERSHOXXXXZcXXXxXXxX

    Come in to Taco Bell now, where our new dollar menu selections will have you saying: "I'm full!" shouts a man, standing on top of the Grand Canyon, holding a burrito. The new Taco Bell Dollar Menu! With a selection of a half-pound bean burrito, two tacos, a spicy chicken chalupa, and dozens of other choices, it will make you remember what it's like to be full! "I'm full!" cries a woman, standing atop Mount Everest, holding a taco in each hand. We now cut to the inside of Madison Square Garden - Matt Myers stands in the middle of the ring, a chalupa in one hand and a microphone in the other. Being cheered on by thousands and thousands of fans, he leaps atop a turnbuckle and shouts "I'm full! I'M FUUUUUUUULLLLLLL- AGH! What the-rgh!MF!GETOFFMGNMGGPPHH!" "You're not full," El Luchadore Magnifico says as he yanks Myers off the turnbuckle, "until you've had one of these! The New BurriTaco Magnifico! It's a one-pound Burrito that's inside a taco, for only a dollar! What will they think of next?" Magnifico turns to Myers, who is attempting to crawl away - in a split second, Magnifico grabs the microphone and clobbers him on the back of the head! "Now open wide!" "MMFF! GRRMMPPHH-" *HACK* *COUGH* *COUGH* *SPLUTTER* *SOUND OF BURRITACO BEING COUGHED UP* "CAN'T... BREATHE..." Magnifico releases Myers, whose head drops to the mat. "Looks like he's full," Magnifico says with a chuckle, and he begins to walk away as paramedics rush to the scene. They administer CPR, and a few moments later, Myers coughs up bits of taco shell and begins to breathe again. "You asshole!" he shouts, pointing at Magnifico. "You almost killed me, you crazy bastard! I'm not going to take this kind of abuse anymore! I'm getting a restraining order! I'm-" Magnifico pivots around, wielding two more BurriTaco's, and we fade to black, with the anguished screaming of Myers bringing us to the end of this advertisement. Taco Bell - Think Outside The Bun "Full yet?!" "Get away from me, you freak!"
  3. the.weej

    SWF AFTERSHOXXXXZcXXXxXXxX

    Eh! Boo Boo! The crowd bursts into cheers as some weird robot song starts to play over the loudspeakers, heralding the arrival of Ghost Machine Version 2.0! "Good lord," Pete says with a groan. "Do we really need this right now?" "Oh, come on," Suicide King replies. "You're not going to tell me you find this marvel of modern technology boring, are you?" As the curtain parts, Chris Belcourt steps through, pulling the rigid Ghost Machine, who is wearing specially-fitted wheels on his lower appendages. ("Is he wearing roller skates, King?" "You fool. Those are specially-fitted wheels. For his lower appendages.") Belcourt walks to the ring, trying to push the 231-pound piece of machinery and having great difficulty doing so. When he finally gets to the ring, Belcourt pushes Ghost Machine to the apron. He props Ghost Machine against the ringpost and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a pack of Camel cigarettes. He puts one into Ghost Machine's mouth, lights it, and then walks boredly into the ring, picking up a microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen," Belcourt says, "on behalf of Ghost Machine, I would like to..." Immediately, the crowd begins booing loudly. Belcourt rolls his eyes, and begins speaking again. "On behalf of Ghost Machine Two Point Oh, I would like to read a prepared statement." Belcourt reaches into his pocket, pulling a sheet of paper out. As he does, the camera focuses on the almost-motionless Ghost Machine, still leaning against the ringpost and moving only to expedite the smoking of his cigarette. The SWF road agent clears his throat and begins reading. 'BennerCorp is proud to present its new standalone application, Ghost Machine Version 2.0. Version 2.0 is an improvement in every way. However, when Ghost Machine 2.0 is treated in certain manners, such as exposing it to raucous disco music or by overstimulating its visual apparatus, it may respond by malfunctioning. This is the explanation for the infinite loop that was noted at SWF Clusterf**k last week. On behalf of BennerCorp, I would like to apologize to Manson for this malfunction. Further, BennerCorp is not responsible for any malfunction that may occur if Ghost Machine 2.0 is abused, for example by striking it with weapons other than the human body. Its specially-created chassis is not equipped to deal with weapons such as rattan canes, kendo sticks or playthings propelled by heavy explosives. Thank you.' Ghost Machine stubs out his cigarette on the ringpost as Belcourt drops the microphone and starts to walk out of the ring. However, Ghost Machine turns to face him. Sighing, Belcourt picks up the microphone and holds it in front of Ghost Machine's synthesizer. "BRUCE BLANK YOU'RE NEXT." Belcourt rolls his eyes as the crowd cheers. The road agent sighs and begins pushing Ghost Machine back to the locker room. "Well," says Pete, "that was... er... unnecessary." "You know, I didn't expect you to appreciate it," King says with disdain. "I am, however, excited to see that Ghost Machine is stepping up into the title hunt, although I hope Blank doesn't try to hit him with anything ultraviolent. It might cause a malfunction." Pete merely shakes his head as the show fades to commercial.
  4. the.weej

    SWF AFTERSHOXXXXZcXXXxXXxX

    As I sit alone in the workout area in the bowels of the Cow Palace, I can’t help but reflect on things... Things that could’ve been, should’ve been. Or maybe they shouldn’t have been, and things went as well as they should have. I was ready to not make the trip to San Fran. But at the behest of upper management, I find myself here. They wanted all of the Clusterfuck participants available for possible interviews. I was less than thrilled at that prospect, but I knew I had no choice. I am less thrilled now, knowing that they will be doing an interview with me. I heave a sigh. Oh well. I’ve got to pay the bills somehow, since my wrestling’s been garbage lately. The doors whine open, and in walks... Ben Hardy and a cadre of cameramen and sound men and the like. It looks like a small militia under the payroll of a small news network. Hardy quickly makes his rounds to his crew, giving them clipped directions, then comes to me, offering a hand. “Chris,” he says in a soft tone, “thanks for taking the time out to do this.” I take his hand in what I hope is a convincing shake. “It’s my pleasure, Ben.” He smiles ruefully at me, not really fooled by my attempt to conceal the ‘un-joy’ I feel having to do an interview on the heels of a small 0-for start. “Trust me,” he responds somewhat vaguely, “there are some that will appreciate the effort.” I toss a raised eyebrow in his direction, but he is already in the midst of finalizing the microphone locations and camera lighting and angles. His statement leaves me wondering... The crowd response in my first match was rather intense. I was surprised. Maybe I didn’t give the old base of fans enough credit for sticking around. They did better than I have, if I was right. Ben turns back around, flashing me a slight smile as he settles into the seat beside me. “Ready to do this?” “Honestly?” “Sure.” “Not a chance in Hell.” Hardy laughs a bit, and I manage to crack a sincere smile this time. “Well, let’s get this over with as quickly as possible then, shall we?” He sits back in the chair, watching the main cameraman as he motions with his hand... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... ********** The feed cuts from... Wherever it was before... To a close-up of Ben Hardy’s face. “Thank you, and joining me now is returning superstar Christian Fury... Chris, thanks for joining me today.” The camera pans back to show the two men as Hardy and Fury share a handshake. “Thanks for having me, Ben.” Ben flashes a smile that’s understanding, yet determined. “In case it hasn’t happened yet, Chris, let me be one of the first to welcome you back into the fold.” “I appreciate that, Ben... Since my last departure, I’ve done a lot. But... I knew something was missing.” Ben nods, but you can almost see him working. “I’m sure fans are very curious about what you’ve been doing outside of the ring, but I think they’re talking more about what you’ve been doing inside the ring... Or, more importantly, what you haven’t been doing. And that’s winning.” Hardy looks hard at Fury, but with that hidden air of “flee when needed” barely visible on his features. “What’s going on out there?” Fury sighs softly, and we can see Hardy tense. “Well,” Fury starts after a moment of thought, “I’ve been out of the sport for a year. Admittedly, I’ve only been training for the past 6 months. Plus, I’m working with a whole new skill set. I’ve lost some weight to try and compete better with cruisers, and worked on my lower body to try and build speed. It’s been a rough transition. But... To my credit, I was doing well in that first match against Wes Davenport, and the Clusterfuck...” He chuckles slightly. “Well, the Clusterfuck is tough all around with multiple folks in the ring. I think I did alright.” “Now really, Chris,” Hardy retorts, slightly reserved but pressing on, “In your first match, you got beat out by a washed-up actor... And your Clusterfuck exit was less-than-impressive. No eliminations, and third out. You can hardly call those ‘performances’ alright.” Fury visibly grits his teeth. “Need I remind you,” Fury responds in a cool and calculated matter, “that that ‘washed-up’ actor won the Clusterfuck for a title shot at From The Fire. And I was eliminated quickly, yes... But by Stryke, who was on a tear, and wound up elimination about a half-dozen people more or less on his own...” “Chris, I think the big question here is why try and change your whole style and come back after so many attempts? Why try and hang on? Why try to be all goody-two-shoes when you did your best works as a...” “I believe this interview is over.” With that steely and cold response, Fury stands and walks off-camera... But the camera pans up to follow his travel out the door... *SLAM!* The camera floats back down to a cringing Hardy. “Back to the floor...” ********** I can’t believe he’d go that route... Can’t believe it. But... Maybe he was right... After all, that’s his job. Right? I hear him down the hall, calling for me. Fuck him. I’ll do this my way. I know I can’t completely escape my past, but I’ll sure as Hell try. I’ll do my thing, and win. The fans and ‘experts’ be damned. I can win as a ‘good guy’. I don’t need that noise from the past. They’ll see... They’ll all see...
  5. the.weej

    SWF AFTERSHOXXXXZcXXXxXXxX

    "And now," Ben Hardy leads us back into the Aftershox studio, "it's time to show you the match that made me a millionare. That's right - I bet on a long shot in the Clusterfuck, and it paid off 75 times over!" Sexton, eager to chime in, asks "You really bet on Wes?" ... ... ... "Way to ruin the recap, jackass... anyway, for those viewers who may be deaf, and can't read lips, and haven't gone online since the PPV, here's the recap anyway! Hope it's still a surprise!" ==== "We all knew Spike Jenkins had entered himself as the first entrant, but nobody knew who the other 19 competitors would be... did Spike end up biting off more than he could chew in the opening?" ==== "Laberinto was off to a hot start, but after the third entrant appeared..." ==== "It would be a while before the next elimination, and soon the ring began to fill up... Stryke, Manson, Christian Fury, and Ghost Machine all rounded out the next few spots, with Ghost Machine making an immediate impact on the match." ==== "Everyone knows that in a Battle Royale, it's better to have allies than enemies, and this was never made more apparent than with the team of Manson and Stryke - early on, they started working together to take on the competition..." "But the number one rule of the Clusterfuck has always been 'Look out for number one'." ==== "Eliminations came fast and furious, until we were down to the final four... Landon Maddix, Bruce Blank, TORU Takahara, and a man no one expected to last - Wes Davenport. One more elimination, and the match would become a triple threat." "And now, in its entirety, here is the conclusion to the 2006 Clusterfuck." We pull back to the studio, where Sexton Hardcastle appears to be nursing a vicious Indian Burn while Hardy continues to narrate. "That's right, folks - Wes Davenport is going to From the Fire. Was it luck? A cold, calculated plan? No one knows, but we do know this - Wes now has a shot at the SWF World Championship... but against who? Up nex-" "Magnifico!" "..." "What? You asked me 'against who'!" "... I hate you." "..." "Later on, we'll take a look at the epic battle between JJ Johnson and El Luchadore Magnifico, for the World Heavyweight Championship. Wes Davenport will be facing one of those two men at From the Fire." Fade out...
  6. the.weej

    SWF AFTERSHOXXXXZcXXXxXXxX

    "The following contest is scheduled for one fall to a finis with a 20-minute time limit…" Funyon starts as the crowd responds with the expected round of applause. "Iintroducing first…from Osaka…Japan…" The opening notes of David Bowie's, "China Girl" hit the speakers as a series of pyro's burst under the Smarktron. Candace "The Joshi Dragon" Okimura emerges from behind the velvet curtain and steps onto the stage area. The crowd in the sold-out Canseco Field house girls the Asian beauty a round of polite applause, as she stands gazing over the huge arena. Candace flashes a wide smile, and then starts down the entrance ramp and towards the ring. "Candace…The Joshi Dragon…O-KIM-URRRRAAAAA!!!" Candace smiles politely as she hears her name echoing through the arena. The Dragon, wearing her trademark white Playboy Bunny Tank top and ridiculously short black leather mini-skirt, glances over a few of the signs in the stands as she continues towards the ring. "Candace has been fairly successful since her return to the SWF" Pete notes. "She won her first two matches…although sh's been coming up short as of late…" "She'll be coming up short again tonight", King retorts. "She's taking on a promising newcomer in the Scarlet Pimpernel Matt Myers…" The Joshi Dragon pauses for a few moments to acknowledge some of the fans in the front row, then slowly makes her way up the large, steel steps that lead into the ring. The Asian beauty pulls up the top rope, then slips under it and heads towards her corner of the ring. "…and her opponent …" The lights in the arena drop to darkness. The lights arena's drop to darkness as Matt "The Scarlet Pimpernal" steps out onto the stage area. The upcoming star glances over the sold out Cow Palace as his entrance music blares loudly in the background. A thin smirk crease his lips as he notices his diminutive opponent waiting in the ring. The tosses his long black hair black, then quickly starts down the entrance ramp towards the ring. "Matt…The Scarlet Pimpernal" MYERS!!!" BOOOOOOO!!!! YYEEAAHH!!!! The tall Myers slides under the bottom rope and quickly approaches his opponent. He chuckles menacingly,then heads straightt to his corner. He quickly climbs the turn buckle, flashes a menacing glare at the fans in attendance, then hurredly steps back down, and removes his jacket before walking towards his corner of the ring. "This Myers is a pretty arrogant guy" Pete understates. "Is it any surprise the fans don't exactly love him?" "They don't have to love him" Pete responds matter-of-factly. "They simply have to respect him." Myers locks his eyes on Candace as the Asian beauty stretches out in her corner of the ring. A confident smirk creases his lips as he notices how small this Dragon is. The Scarlet Pimpernal shrugs his shoulders, tilting his head briefly to the left and right, then leans back in his corner of the ring as the referee scurries up the steps and climbs under the ropes. Funyon quickly exits as the referee proceeds to offer a final run down on the rules to the combatants. "Matt Myers seems less than impressed with Candace…" "…and that surprises you?" The referee motions for the wrestlers as Candace heads to the center of the ring. Matt, showing little interest in the match, lethargically starts in as the referee signals for the bell. DING! DING! DING! "And we're underway…" Pete starts. Myers smiles menacingly as he starts to circle Candace. The promising newcomer wiggles his taped fingers slightly, and then gestures for a lock up. Candace considers the challenge for a moment, and then reaches up to lock hands with Myers. A trace of a smirk creases Matt's face, but before Candace locks up she fires a quick low kick to the lateral aspect of Myers's left knee. A look of surprise quickly washes over The Scarlet Pimpernal's face, as he steps back from Candace. The newcomers expression quickly turns from shock to anger as he abandons the lock-up offer, and instead sends a blistering clothesline towards the Dragon. WHIFF! Candace side steps the clothesline, then trips up Matt with a drop toe hold. Myer's falls face foreword onto the mat, as Candace quickly goes after his left knee. The Asian beauty bends The Scarlet Pimpernal's knee at an awkward angle, then drops her knee hard onto the twisted limb.Myer's roars as he violently shakes Candace off his leg. He quickly flips to his side, then hurries to get to his feet. "Candace pretty aggressive in the early goings" King notes as the Dragon's opponent glares at his tiny adversary. "Myer's is fairly small. Normally he is the one taking on a much larger opponent, so in this match he's not in his usual element" Candace immediately fires another kick to the compromised limb. A pained expression washes over Matt's face as he gingerly staggers towards his corner of the ring. The Dragon continues the offence with a standing drop kick directly on her opponents' patella.The Scarlet Pimpernal's knee buckles on impact and the upcoming star finds himself on the mat once again. "The Dragon working that leg…sound strategy to go after a weakened limb" "True…anything that will slow down Matt Myers has to be in her advantage" Candace quickly measures Matt as he start to move to his feet. She shoots a hard Buzzsaw kick at her opponents' skull as she watches him get off the mat. Myer's however catches Candace's leg mid swing and stops the blow before it hits. He whips Candace around and sends her hard to the mat with a timely Dragon Screw. Candace instantly springs to her feet, but the Joshi Dragon is rewarded with a stiff knee to the midsection for her troubles. "But she still has to deal with his power" King chuckles as Candace is rocked by the impact of the kick. "Very true" Pete concedes. A look of unmasked anger manifests The Scarlet Pimpernals face as he grabs Candace by her long, black hair and jerks her to a vertical base. The young superstar quickly slides behind the Dragon and locks his arms tightly around her waist. He tucks his head in, then arches back. A look of concern appears on Candace's face as Myer's sends her back hard with a brutal Railgun suplex. CRASH! "Matt Myer's knocks Candace into the middle of next week" King says in amusement as Pete looks on in dismay. "She'll feel that for the next two weeks" Matt takes a deep breath as he gingerly walks towards Candace. The look of anger slowly is replaced with that of calm confidence, a she once again pulls Candace to a vertical base. He Irish whips the Waifish Joshi across the ring, leaving Candace to bounce hard off the corner turnbuckle. Matt Myer's follows up with a stinger splash that drives Candace hard into the corner. The Joshi Dragon slowly slumps onto the ropes as the newcomer towers over her in the corner. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! The Scarlet Pimpernal sends several stiff kicks to the head and neck of the Asian beauty. The referee hurries over to the corner of the ring to check on the action. He instantly notices the Dragon is on the ropes, and orders a break, but his commands fall on deaf ears. Myer's rests the soul of his boot on Candace's throat and presses down viciously. The referee immediately starts a count as the audience starts to loudly jeer the champion. ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! Matt finally breaks the hold, and reluctantly steps away from his opponent. Candace again slumps to the mat, as the referee yells at The Pimpernal for ignoring his orders. Myer's ignores the official and locks his focus on his opponent. He pulls Candace to her feet, then sends her hard to the mat again with another Railgun suplex. CRASH! "Matt Pyer's has completely taken over this match" "Candace has better get some offense going in a hurry or this one will be over very shortly" Myer's flashes another confident smile as he heads towards his fallen adversary. He reaches down and grabs Candace by her ankle, then drags his motionless opponent into the center of the ring. Matt glances at the ceiling, then heads for the corner turnbuckles. "Look out below…" Warns the King as The Scarlet Pimpernal climbs to the top turnbuckle. Matt spreads his arms wide, as he prepares for a diving head- BUTT. "Why put her in the middle of the ring? Wouldn't it be easier if she were a little closer?" "The Scarlet Pimpernal like's a challenge…" Meyer's leaps high into the air as the audience holds their breathe in anticipation. KA-SPLAT!! "Oh my God!" King blurts as Matt Myer's crashes head first onto the mat. "That is what you call a face plant!" Candace rolled out of the way at the last possible second, as her opponent lands head first on the mat. The crowd gives a huge ovation for Candace as Myer's suffers the consequences of the ill-fated maneuver. The Joshi Dragon, still feeling the impact from the earlier suplexes, slowly forces herself to a vertical base. She locks her eyes on her fallen opponent, then staggers over to make a cover. The referee quickly pounces on the mat as The Scarlet Pimnpernal's shoulders are down. ONE! TWO! No! Myer's kicks out. A look of disappointment registers on Candace's face as she hurries back to her feet. Myer's slowly starts to rise to his knees when… SPLAT! The rookie's head snaps back hard as the Dragon fires a blistering Buzzsaw kick to his temple. The SWF superstars eyes loose focus instantly as he collapses lifelessly to the mat. Candace quickly makes a cover as once again the referee scurries in for the count. ONE! TWO! No! The referee notices Matt's foot is draped on the bottom rope. He taps Candace on the shoulder, which sends the Dragon into a premature celebration in the center of the ring. "Not so quick" King warns from the broadcast booth. "The match ain't over yet!" A look of tremendous distress washes over Candace's face as the referee informs her that her opponent's foot was on the ropes. The Dragon quickly shakes off her disappointment, then pulls Matt away from the ropes. She drops a knee between Myer' eyes, then makes another quick cover. ONE! TWO! No! The Scarlet Pimpernal kicks out. "I'll give him credit…matt Myer's can absorb a hell of a lot of punishment" Pete acknowledges as a grin forms on Kings face. "He takes a lickin' and keeps on tickin'" Candace steps back from Myer's and once again begins to measure her opponent. She waits in silence as her opponent once again staggers to his feet, this time she leaps onto his shoulders, locking his far side arm in a leg scissors, while grabbing hold on his other arm to form a crucifix position. She instantly twists the two sides in opposing directions as she locks in her lethal Christo. "Submission move here" Pete blurts in surprise as Candace locks on the Christo. A look of pain begins to form on Myer's face as he struggles to break free from the hold. He desperately tries to pull away from the Dragons powerful legs, but the Asian beauty has the hold well cinched on. As Myer's continues to struggle, his weakened left knee buckles under him. The look of pain on his face begins to intensify as the referee hurries over to ask him if he wishes to submit. "Matt Myer's is a tough guy…tough as they come… He won't tap…" The King state in concern as The Scarlet Pimpernal continues to battle the hold. "Don't be so sure…" Myer's grimaces as the referee continues to badger him about quitting the match. A look of relief begins to form on Candace's face as she can feel her opponent weakening. The Asian beauty continues to torque back Myer's arm as the crowd starts to rally behind her. CANDACE! CANDACE! CANDACE! Slowly, Matt wills his way to a vertical base. The relaxed look on Candace's face quickly fades as her opponent begins to demonstrate his determination to escape the Christo. Candace continues to apply the pressure, but Matt Myer's finally counter's the move into a Samoan drop. OOF!!!! Candace gasps as Matt's head drives hard into her midsection. She instantly releases the hold, then rolls into a fetal position in the center of the ring. Myer's, reeling from the effects of the Christo, lie motionless in the center of the ring as well. The referee looks down at both fallen combatants, then starts work on a double count out. ONE! TWO! THREE! Myer's starts to stir, but as he rises his head…it falls back to the mat. FOUR! FIVE! "Could be a double count out!" Pete offers as the referee continues his count. "It would be a damn shame if that happened!" SIX! Candace slowly sits up, but just like her opponent…she quickly falls back to the mat as well. SEVEN! EIGHT! The Scarlet Pimpernal manages to get to his knees. He slowly reaches the ropes, and starts to pull himself up. Candace finally manages to will herself to her feet again. The referee motions the fighters to continue, and instantly Matt sends a clothesline screaming at Candace's head. KA BLAM! Candace flips heels over head, then lands hard on her back. Matt desperately pounces on her for the cover. The referee once again dives to the mat to start the count. ONE! TWO! No! Candace gets her foot on the ropes. "Matt Myer's damn near decapitated Candace with that clothesline" The rookie pounds the mat in anger, then fires a menacing glare at the referee. He quickly turns his attention back to the Dragon, pulling her away from the ropes and clamping on a side headlock. Candace squeals in pain as the powerful newcomer cranks the pressure on the hold; a confident smirk slowly forming on his face. "This is clearly Matt's strength. Just totally wear his opponent down. He's young, but even now The Scarlet Pimpernal realizes that strategy!" King notes as Myer's continues to torture Candace. The referee quickly turns his attention to the struggling Asian beauty. He asks Candace if she wants to quit the match, but the Joshi Dragon resists the offer. Myer's continues to squeeze Candace's head with vice-like pressure, as the desperate Joshi stretches her leg towards the ropes. Candace reaches as far as she can go, with the tip of her toes barely tapping the bottom rope. The referee quickly orders a break, but to no ones surprise The Scarlet Pimpernal ignores the command. YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! YOU SUUCKKK! Matt Myer's glances dismissively at the fans as Candace continues to tap her toes on the rope. The referee quickly starts a count as the fans continue to jeer the Scarlet Pimpernal. BOOOOOOOOO!!!! ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! Myer's releases the side head-lock for a split second, then reapplies the punishing hold. He pulls Candace off the ropes and back into the ring. A wry grin flashes across the face of Myer's as he continues to crank the pressure of the headlock on the Asian beauty. "Matt Myer's is a sadist" blurts Pete as he watches Candace grimace in pain. The Joshi Dragon fires an elbow into the midsection of her opponent. Matt grits his teeth in pain, but this escape attempt only inspires him to increase the pressure on the headlock. Candace fires another elbow to his gut…then another…then another. Matt finally abandons the headlock, and nails Candace with a forearm smash to the head. Candace wobbled back, providing Myer's with an opportunity to send her hard to the ropes with an Irish whip. Candace springboards off the middle rope and nails her tormentor with a flying forearm of her own. YYEEAAHHH!!!! A look of surprise washes over Myer's face as he staggers back from the impact. The momentary stun quickly wears off and he fires a short arm clothesline at the Joshi Dragon. Candace however slips under the move and counters with a well-aimed hook kick to the chin of the upcoming SWF Superstar. THUD! Once again Myer's back peddles as Candace begins to get the upperhand in the match. She fires a wide angle spinning kick at Myer's head, however the kick is slow in arriving and the speedy Scarlet Pimpernal catches her leg midflow. Candace reacts quickly and nails Myer's in the head with an Enzuiguri, which earns an ovation from the fans in the sold out Cow Palace. "I'll give her credit…she's spunky" Matt kips to his feet, just as Candace is mounting the corner turn buckle for an attempted Senton. The taller Myer's tucks his head between Candace's legs in an effort to catch the young Joshi in an electric chair drop. As he gets Candace into the air the Dragon quickly shifts her weight and counters the electric chair drop into a pinning Victory roll position. Myer's, still wobbly on his compromised left knee, topples to the mat as the referee dives to make the count. ONE! TWO! Myer's kicks wildly in the air in an effort to escape… THREE! YYYYEEAHHHH!!! Matt Myer's finally kicks out of the pin…a look of rage burning in his eyes as he gestures two fingers towards the referee. The zebra replies with three fingers, then signals for the bell. DING! DING! DING! "Massive upset…Candace is the luckiest person in California tonight!" King states bluntly as the Dragon pumps her fist in the air. "She caught Matt Myer's with that Victory roll…I don't think he expected that" "Obviously not!" Matt Myer's slams his fist hard onto the mat as he notices Funyon heading for the microphone. The promising star quickly rolls under the bottom rope and starts towards the locker room. A look of intense displeasure etched on his face. "The time of the match 8 minutes and 22 seconds…the winner….Candace The Joshi Dragon…O-KIM-U-RRRRRRAAAAA!!!!!" YYYEEEAAAHHH!!! Candace finally manages a smile as she slowly get's to her feet. As the cheer's of the fans echo throughout the Cow Palace the Joshi Dragon pumps her fist into the air in celebration. As Candace's entrance music starts to echoe throughout the arena, "SWF AftershoX" goes to commercial.
  7. the.weej

    SWF AFTERSHOXXXXZcXXXxXXxX

    Joe Peters leans back in his executive swivelling leather chair and grins to himself as he studies the young woman sitting in front of him. Unfortunately the grin might not have been such a good idea, given who the young woman in question is. “What the fuck’s so funny?” Amy Stephens snaps, crossing her arms. Peters starts to sigh in exasperation, figures that probably won’t go down any better, and hastily smoothes his features. “Just happy to have you on board, Miss Stephens,” he says with genuine satisfaction, passing a few sheets of paper over the desk. “If you’d just like to look over this contract then we can tidy up the last few odds and ends…” “Yeah yeah,” Amy says, running her finger down the paper. “I told you I ain’t planning on staying long, right? I do the six months but then I’m out of here, innit?” “Yes, you made that very clear,” Peters says with only a slight grimace. For some reason Toxxic’s little sister has a much stronger Nottingham accent than the former World Champion, who -in Peters’ memory, at least- sounds positively cultured in comparison. As a result, ‘very clear’ is only a relative term. “I believe you said you’re planning on travelling again?” “Well, I still ain’t found Mike innit?” Amy says absently, “but I run out o’cash and this is all that’ll pay me up quick enough, you get me?” “I think so…” Peters mutters, casting an exasperated look over at William Hearford III, who is standing by and watching the contract signing. All seems to be going well… until Amy’s eyes narrow and she jabs the pen down at a word on the paper. “What the fuck is this?” she demands. Joe Peters leans over to see what has caused his new signing’s ire to rise, but is puzzled by what he finds. “‘Diva’?” he queries, “well, that’s your job title. It’s a bit pretentious I know, but it’s the term we use these days-” “Whassit mean?” Amy demands, “have I gotta be half-naked all the time or something?” “Not necessarily,” Peters assures her, “but there will be other functions to perform such as photoshoots and public appearances.” “Yeah, and how come I get paid less?” Amy demands, “Mike told me what he got in his first six months with the company and this,” she continues, holding the contract up, “ain’t it.” “There’s a lower downside, granted,” Peters protests, “but you’d easily make that up with the promotional appearances, photo royalties… all it means is that you don’t wrestle as often as the active roster do.” Amy Stephens seems to consider this, looking down at the contract… then shoves it away from her and throws her pen so it bounces across the desk and lands in Peters’ lap. He looks up from it to see her get to her feet and lean over the desk at him. In other circumstances Peters would be concentrating on the impressive cleavage peeking out from her T-shirt, but something tells him that keeping eye contact would be the wisest move. “Y’know what?” Amy begins, “I think you think I’m dumb, Mr. Peters. I think all you’re seein’ is another pair of tits to take photos of and market to a bunch of horny teenagers who’re getting their kicks from the vibro functions on their PS2s.” “Don’t knock them,” Judge interjects with a smile, “they’re one of our biggest demographics!” Amy looks towards him for a second, then turns back to Joe Peters and jabs a finger into his chest. “Listen. You knew my brother, right? Best you stop thinkin’ of me as some English girl you can make wall posters out of, and you better start thinkin’ of me as him. Only less patient.” “Christ,” Peters mutters under his breath, but Amy hasn’t finished. “I ain’t hanging around wearing half of nothin’ while everyone else gets to actually do some wrestling. I’ve been trained, and I’ve done some wrestling before - that’s how I made the cash to get back up here, you get me? So you give me a wrestling contract, and maybe you can make some cash outta the fact that I’m the famous Toxxic’s sister while I’m beating people up; otherwise I’m gone.” Joe Peters stares up at the aggressive 21 year-old facing him over his own desk, and sighs. It looks like this is going to be one of those days. ---------------------------------------------------- “So, what’s first stop?” Amy asks William Hearford as they trek down one of the corridors. The veteran SWF star and road agent indicates a door on their right. “Wardrobe.” The door creaks open to throw light on a room with rail after rail of clothes, costumes and assorted oddments of apparel. Here are tuxedos, suits, pants, shirts, boots and shoes, kneepads, elbow pads, tights, an entire rack full of athletic tape as well as some less common items like helmets and cloaks. On one wall what appears to be a superhero’s costume is held in a glass box with an engraved plaque underneath reading ‘Cyclone Comet - He Will Come Again’. “Oh, if a big guy with a red skull mask on ever talks to you, don’t say anything about that,” Judge says, gesturing to Comet’s old outfit. Amy nods, confused, then continues looking around. “So, what we lookin’ for?” she asks. Judge rubs his beard and ‘hmms’ thoughtfully. “To be honest, I’m not sure. I imagine Joe will want to milk your name for all it’s worth, so you’re not going to get any major sort of gimmick… We’ll just try and find something that feels like you, then work from there. This is more to give people ideas, and then wardrobe knocks up a few outfits around a general theme…” Amy looks down at herself. She’s currently wearing a cut-off Ramones T-shirt, baggy Criminal Damage skate pants and pink-and-black Vans. “Err… what’s wrong with what I’ve got?”
  8. the.weej

    SWF AFTERSHOXXXXZcXXXxXXxX

    SWF AftershoX comes back after a trailer for Uwe Boll's "Tetris" starring Dakota Fanning as square-block and Mila Jovovich as full-frontal nudity t-block and Ben Hardy's toolish face comes into view. He's standing in the back, as well he should, when his eyes go wide as two figures that haven't been seen in a long time come into view. "Jimmy? Jimmy the Doom?" Ben asks incredulously. Sure enough, the Doomtopian, swinging a small velvet bag and wearing a giant mustard-yellow stovepipe hat, and his wife are walking down the corridor. "Ben jammin'! Good to being have seen you for again," Jimmy says awkwardly, for he is foreign and poor speech habits are the best way to point this out. "Where have you been, man? You just disappeared and nobody knew what happened," Hardy states, hoping to get a decent interview, or, at least one that doesn't end with him being stuffed in a locker or knocked out. "The war, Benjamin," Doom replies somberly. "You mean in Iraq?" Ben questions. "No, Ben. There are being other wars to have in the world not with the United States included. I was to speak about the Zirconium invasion of Doomtopia. My home land," Doom adds with more than a hint of anger and bitterness. "I'm sorry, but I hadn't heard about that, Jimmy. Are you here because everything's fine back in Doomtopia, or are you a refugee?" Hardy asks. "Things are to the safety on home. Most population said my returning back is keynote reason for the leaving of Zirconia's army troops. I having been much enjoyed by the company of Zirconia's Executor Elect, Trelb Larpkits. However, though, soon thereafter, Doomtopia had enlisting aid from gypsies being from northernly-central mountanious regions to illegally steal children having belonging to Zirconiums." "Your government got gypsies to steal the children of the Zirconiums and what, they were ransomed back for Doomtopia's sovereignty?" "And twenty pounds worthiness of Zirconia's chiefly exporting item, the Cubic Zirconium for each Doomtopian," Doom stays, opening the bag and revealing a multitude of glittering gems. "So, I take it you're back full time in the SWF?" Hardy inquires. "Perhapsable. Warful threatings are ever presently in Doomtopia. But, for the being time currently, I wishes to keep representation Doomtopia of Smarks Wrestling Federation," Jimmy says. "Well, do you have any plans for the future? Anyone in particular you're looking to take on, or will you go after all comers?" Ben questions "Anyone and every of the ones. Jimmy the Doom has not the person to backing down from challenging wrestlers. I must be telling them, though, that a person to be challenge me will have doom comeing, and that doom is to come swift, and strong, like a river. A river of doom!" Doom exclaims. "Thanks, Jimmy. It's great seeing you back," Ben says, trying to wrap things up before anything wacky happens. "Much welcomes, Ben, and it is enormous goodness to returning," Jimmy replies and begins walking away. "Oh, Ben, be getting yourself a nicety by use of this." Jimmy flips Hardy a quarter-sized cubic zirconium before walking on. And with that, AftershoX fades out with a motherfucking star wipe.
  9. the.weej

    SWF AFTERSHOXXXXZcXXXxXXxX

    Ben Hardy welcomes us back to SWF Aftershox, clearly not pleased with... something... if I had to guess, I'd say it was Sexton Hardcastle, who apparently has earned back his on-air priveleges. "Welcome back to Aftershox. I'm Ben Hardy." He then jerks his thumb towards Sexton- "And this is the nephew of the producer. Who knew?" Sexton sticks his tongue out. "Ugh... anyway, let's get back to recapping the events of SWF Clusterfuck. Next up, the International Championship Match - defending champion Jay Hawke versus the Wildchild." ==== "As the match began, Jay Hawke tried to teach Wildchild a few things about wrestling... but as it turned out, Wildchild was the one doing the teaching... ==== "But soon, a cheap shot would put the Champion back in the driver's seat..." ==== "Jay Hawke continued to maintain his control over Wildchild, but he couldn't quite put the Wild one away... as his frustration grew, he began making mistakes, and it was only a matter of time before Wildchild capitalized..." ==== "It seemed like the match was about to be over, and a new champion crowned... but Jay Hawke had one last trick up his sleeve..." ==== "And so," Ben Hardy says as we return to the studio, "Jay Hawke managed to slip away with his title once again. But some say it's only a matter of time before Wildchild gets another chance, and next time, Hawke might not get off so easy... stick around, because we've got more SWF action to come." Fade out.
  10. the.weej

    SWF AFTERSHOXXXXZcXXXxXXxX

    Now available from SWF Films… the Re-Release of a Wes Davenport classic! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ It was a time when no one would believe in a hero… Pictures of Depression-Era Canada, with hundreds of lumberjacks standing in food lines before the screen fades to black as disembodied voices continue the exposition. But a hero would rise… "I want to be a professional curler, mom!" "That's nice, dear…" Despite all odds… "I'm sorry, son, you've lost both your hands. You'll never sweep again." "I'll never say never! You just watch!" To become the hero of a nation… "WE BELIEVE, EH! WE BELIEVE, EH!" Starring Christopher Walken as the Coach of Soviet Bear Punch Doj-Er, Curling Team… The scene fades in on Christopher Walken wearing a red karate gi, skating across the ice. "What… is our… motto, children?" "SWEEP FIRST! SWEEP HARD! NO MERCY-SKI!" "I… can't hear you." "SWEEP FIRST! SWEEP HARD! NO MERCY-SKI!" With Keanu Reeves as Joeymir, Ricky's eternal rival… The scene cuts to Keanu, wearing his black jumpsuit, conferring with Walken. "Dude, I can totally take this guy! I am the One…ski!" "You… take him out… that's an… order." "But I know Kung-Fu…ski!" "I… don't care. You… take him… out." And Wes Davenport as Ricky's stern coach, Mario Van Gretzky. We switch over two Davenport, whose back faces the camera as he talks to an off-screen Ricky. "I won't take a bum like you, Rocky." "Ricky." "Ricky. You got talent, but I don't know if you got the HEART. Why should I take a chance on YOU?" And finally, Cuba Gooding Jr. as Ricky McMasters… The scene pulls back to show Cuba Gooding Jr, lacking any hands, pleading with him on his knees. "Cause I got nowhere left to go!" And also ALSO starring Marisa Tomei, as Lonnie, the girl who never gave up on him... "Aww… Why ya gotsa be so ha'd on yaself?" "Because, Lonnie, I have to! I must succeed! I must succeed… for CANADA!" It's a story of hard-work… The two men walking into a dimly lit black room full of movie theatre chairs. Cuba shows a face of disgust. Many very… unclean sound effects can be heard as they walk across the floor. "Dear God, what is this place?" "An adult movie theatre, Rocky-" "-Ricky-" "-Ricky. If you can sweep here… you can sweep anything." Davenport finishes up as he shoves a broom into the nubs of Cuba, who begins awkwardly brooming with his forearms. Cut to Cuba sitting down, back facing the camera, as Davenport writes on a dry erase board. "Look, it's not the size of the broom… but the uh… motion of the ice!" With that, Wes scribbles randomly on the board. "Got that, Rock?" If you've never believed before… Cut to Keanu Reeves, jumping in SUPER SLOW MOTION FULL 360 CAMERA SPIN to crack Ricky's broom in half with one well-placed Kung-fu kick. "Coach, they broke my broom, and I got no replacement!" says Cuba in a hopeless manner, "What can we do?" It's time to start… believing, that is… "Here!" "Coach, this is a whisk broom! I can't use th-" "Yeah, yeah ya can! You can… because you're the only one who has enough talent to do it!" Because this August, hope doesn't float... "Damn it... you... fool. He's still... going out. GO... my minions... go and... stop him..." The entirety of the Russian Team, including a few Bears on tricycles, charge across the ice as the thrower tosses the stone... It sweeps. "Go ahead, Rocky-" "Ricky!" "Ricky! I got ya covered!" says Davenport as leaps fowards, catching two of the Bears around the neck and nailing them with a double Reverse Bulldog! The scene cuts back to Ricky, who slides across the ice on his knees, furiously sweeping the ice in front of the stone before we cut to: SWEEPING AT GLORY: THE RICKY MCMASTERS STORY Now available at your local Liquor Retailer
  11. the.weej

    SWF AFTERSHOXXXXZcXXXxXXxX

    We’re backstage where Ben Hardy is standing in front of a SWF banner ready to interview Bruce Blank. Blank looks like he shouldn’t even be standing up, much less talking right now as he’s feeling the effects of both the Best of 5 series and his double duty in the ClusterFuck PPV. “Bruce… “ Ben starts but he just can’t take his eyes off Bruce and he looks a little uneasy about the whole thing. The heavy bandage over Bruce’s left ear and the staples & stitches on his forehead are gruesome reminders of just how brutal the last Ultraviolent title defense was. “Mr. Blank” Ben then says as Bruce doesn’t react when Hardy starts the interview. But again no reaction from Bruce as he leans on the crutch and tries to keep the weight off his taped up right knee. Or maybe it’s the pain from his broken left fist – a fist that was actually broken going INTO the Japanese Deathmatch as Bruce had fractured it during the Thumbtack match. Hardy gulps and then taps Bruce gently on the shoulder to get his attention “Bruce” “What? I’ve been standing here waiting for you to say something and you’re just screwing around” Bruce says in his usual abrasive southern drawl “I… I spoke” Ben says as he turns pale. “Oh ditcha? Well you’ll excuse me, but I can’t hear shit on my left ear” Bruce says as he points to the bandaged up ear “SO – YOU’RE - DEAF?” Hardy says, making sure he speaks loud and slow. “Just on my left ear you idiot! Doctors say it’s probably just temporary, but they weren’t sure” Bruce says as his facial expression reveals the level of contempt Bruce has for doctors. “I’m sorry for starring… but shouldn’t you really be at home? Recuperating after the ClusterFuck and all?” Ben says. “Any sane man probably would have” Bruce says as he winces in pain from moving his left arm. “But not you?” “Naw Benny, you just can’t keep us Southern boys down. I mean didn’tja watch the PPV? First I took out Akira and then I survived the ClusterFuck match” Bruce says. “But Wes Davenport won it” Ben boldly states “He beat 18 men Benny – but he didn’t beat me, he didn’t put me down and as far as I’m concerned that says something. I went out there with a to prove and I proved it!! It ain’t about winning a title shot at Eeeel Lunchador, it ain’t about gold or glory Benny. It’s about being a MAN! It’s about getting the job done!” Bruce says with conviction. “Excuse me for saying this – but right now you don’t look like you got the job done. How long will it be before you’re cleared to get back in the ring?” Ben asks “How long till the next show?” “Well Lockdown is in 5 days” Ben starts to say but is cut off “Then I’ll be in the ring in 5 days, by hook or by crook I’ll be in that damn ring just you watch me. You saw me practically drag myself across the ring after the bombs went off and then still entered the ClusterFuck match. I had under an hour to recuperate from the first match and I still went out there and stood tall.” Bruce states “Will you get medical clearance by then?” “I’m sorry what? Speak up son you’re talking to my deaf ear” Bruce says obviously ignoring Ben’s question. “Alright shifting gears” Ben says quickly abandoning that line of questions. “Yes I wish you would” “You’re the longest running Ultraviolent champion in SWF history, hell you RENAMED the entire division because of your dominance. What’s next for Bruce Blank?” Bruce ponders the question for a moment or two as he stares off into the distance, then after contemplating the question he looks at Ben Hardy once more and says. “More carnage, more blood, more Ultraviolence!! I’m not backing down from anyone, I’m not a’scared of anyone – they can’t do what I do in an Ultraviolent environment and I’ve been proving it for 154 days straight now!” “Will you be watching the main event then?” Hardy says, asking the question he’s been dying to ask all night. “Why? Who’s wrestling?” Bruce says proving once again that if it doesn’t involve him he doesn’t pay attention to it. “Well it’s a Hardcore match between the Crimson Skull and the returning Insane Luchador” Hardy quickly explains “Insane Luchador? Isn’t he dead?” Bruce asks, he looks a little confused. “Erm… well… no” Ben says clearly uncomfortable talking about the stunt that SWF pulled. “Hmm” Bruce grunts His parting reply before limping off stuns Ben Hardy as Bruce says. “That’s a shame” *Fade Out*
  12. the.weej

    SWF AFTERSHOXXXXZcXXXxXXxX

    SWF Aftershox returns to the studio, where Ben Hardy stands alone next to a large television monitor, with Bruce vs. Akira - JAPANESE DEATHMATCH on the screen. "Welcome back to Aftershox. Now, once the Pre-Pay-Per-View festivities were over, the Clusterfuck itself opened with a bang - literally. Bruce Blank and-" "That was my line!" "GET BACK IN THE CORNER, SEXTON!" *whimper* "... Bruce Blank and Akira Kaibatsu capped off their best of five Ultraviolent series with one of the most dangerous matches in the industry - a Japanese Deathmatch. The rules are simple - the match is fought inside an electrified steel cage, submission or pinfalls only... and if no winner is decided after 15:00, the ring explodes." === "Naturally, if I were in a match that had a 15:00 minute countdown to certain death, I would want the match to be over quickly. Apparently, so did Akira." ==== "Both men began to jockey for position, neither one wanting to be the first to get fried." ==== "And a few minutes later, the first contact was made..." ==== "With two minutes to go, a winner had yet to be decided..." ==== "The bombs went off, and for a second, it looked like the match may have ended right then and there... ==== Back to the studio, where Hardy still stands alone, with Sexton sitting on a stool in the corner, wearing a crudely assembled Dunce cap. "In the end, Bruce Blank retained his Ultraviolent title, and his record-setting reign will continue... for now. Don't go away, folks, because we've got more Hardcore action coming up! We'll be recapping the events of the Clusterfuck Battle Royale, and Aftershox's main event will see the return of the Insane Luchadore in a no-holds-barred match! All that and more, coming up on Aftershox!" Fade out...
  13. the.weej

    SWF AFTERSHOXXXXZcXXXxXXxX

    The lights in the arena go straight to darkness as the cameras return from break back to ringside. The crowd falls silent, followed by the sudden appearance of a flickering dark red spotlight near the front of the ring. It takes solid form, and then runs its way up the stage to the top, where it stops on a hooded figure whose head hangs, buried beneath the confines of his hood, hair wet and eerily draping out from under the cloth that masks his face. The spotlight flickers, and then the keyboards solidify it once again as the opening to “Colony” by In Flames ignites the arena in the presence of SWF new-comer Michael Cross. He stands there, still eerily, and now almost stalking. He picks his head up, stands hard atop the stage, and folds his arms. The crowd moderately responds, despite his last victory being viciously over one of the crowd favorites, Ced Ordonez. “Here we go, ‘folks,” chimes in Pete, “If you didn’t catch the Clusterfuck pre-show just this Sunday, you missed the debut of the Suicide Machine, Michael Cross, who viciously destroyed Ced Ordonez.” “Destroy? He annihilated him!” King cuts in now, excitedly anticipating the entrance of Cross, who still stands stalking over the audience. The guitar and drums kicks in, and he begins to trek his way down the ring, the crowd on either side of him reaching, however, receiving no response from the focused Michael Cross, who now stops near the bottom, and looks both ways. He holds out both arms, pulls his abdomen back, and lets out a growl, then slides into the ring quickly under the bottom rope. The lights cut to black and dark red strobe lighting, and cameras begin to go off like wildfire, or so it appears. Cross stops in the middle of the ring and swipes away his hood violently as the lights cut back on. The music fades away, and Cross is left in the center of the ring, looking on up to the stage, awaiting the entrance of his opponent, Jason Von Dierch. “We’re about ready to get underway, awaiting Cross’ opponent, Jason Von Dierch,” claims Pete intently, “Someone whose face hasn’t been seen in a few weeks.” “I’m not so sure that’s a negative,” proclaims King ignorantly, who gets a glaring response from Longdogger. “RAMMSTEIN!” The crowd turns their heads to see a hard-staring Von Dierch standing over the stage watching like an eagle. His jaw is strong and his eyes spell “fierce competitor” to the audience who is enthralled by Von Dierch, another new comer who has been absent for the past few weeks. “Wollt Ihr das Bett in Flammen sehen!” Rammstein’s “Wollt Ihr das Bett in Flammen sehen?” plays loudly over the PA system as Jason stands looking dangerous, pausing, and then walking to the beat. “Von Dierch, while absent, is still looking as impressive as ever – this could be the first true test for both competitors here tonight,” proclaims Pete, “Their styles seem to mesh in such a fashion that we could see an amazing bout here tonight!” King cuts in, “I don’t know about Von Dierch, but Cross is one young gun you just can’t deny – Jason is done for, I’m tellin’ you,” exclaims King ignorant as ever, “The Suicide Machine will notch another win under his belt!” Von Dierch has finally made his way to ringside, starring up at Cross, looking for a point of weakness. Cross looks on anxiously, charging and then catching himself over and over again at Von Dierch who maneuvers around ringside to get a good view of the new blood in SWF. “Cross is looking anxious, last weekend he nearly paid the price to Ced Ordonez with this exact same technique,” claims Pete informatively, “Let’s see how he manages to work here tonight.” The Rage finally makes his way up to the ring, pausing after each step and staring down an almost psychotic looking Mike Cross who awaits his opponent in the ring. Von Dierch steps under the third rope and pauses again to stare down his opposition. Cross turns and kicks the turnbuckle, then swings back around and points at Von Dierch, egging him into the ring. Von Dierch continues to play protagonist, not wavering for Cross whom nearly flips at the length of time which Von Dierch takes to enter the ring. “Von Dierch is prolonging his beating!” King chimes in. “I don’t know about that, but he seems to be playing games with Cross’ head already,” exclaims Pete, retorting quickly to King’s comments, “And this match hasn’t even gotten underway.” The ref asks both men if they’re ready, Cross replying quickly, Von Dierch nodding. He signals for the bell, and the match is underway. “Delay this, Von Dierch,” spits King. At that moment, Cross anxiously charges across the ring throwing a flurry of rights and lefts wildly catching Von Dierch slightly off guard. The Rage stumbles back, but deflects several of the blows after being charged back into the corner. Cross continues to lay it on quickly and thickly wasting absolutely not time getting to work on Von Dierch who doesn’t seem overwhelmed a bit. “Von Dierch should look to slow Cross’ fast-paced, inexperienced offense,” mentors Pete quickly responding to the action in the ring. Just like that, Von Dierch reverses position throwing Cross over and into the corner with strength that clearly over-powers Cross. Mike flails as Jason lays in the chops, slashing at the flesh of the Suicide Machine, who breaths hard after each and every filleting shot on his own skin. The white hot pain bursts the skin which peals away revealing a flesh-colored slit that trickles a nasty line of red surging after each and ever shot, blood now shooting out. Von Dierch rears back and delivers one last slicing chop that sends Cross shooting out of the corner, stumbling and holding his hand tightly over his wound to stop the blood flow, but to no avail. “It’s safe to say that blood just became an intricate part of this match,” claims Pete almost disgusted, “Kids, don’t try this at home!” In the ring, Von Dierch has set himself up perfectly behind Cross who is unaware of Von Dierch’s presence looming just behind him. Von Dierch opens his arms, stalks his prey, and then traps Cross in a vice so tight that his eyes roll to the back of his head. Von Dierch applies it even tighter, as Cross convulses around the ring reaching for anything and everything in site, almost like a chicken whose head has just been severed. Von Dierch pulls Cross’ flailing body away from the ropes, continuing to apply the hold he’s been famous for. “Von Dierch is looking for an early escape with his signature ‘Iron Curtain’ Rear Naked Choke,” exclaims Pete excitedly as Cross continues to stumble around the ring, “Cross isn’t going down without a fight!” “Damn straight,” proclaims King, bewildered. Cross pauses, and Von Dierch latches on with his legs, his whole body now crushing Cross in a snare. Mike stumbles back, looking like a beaten fighter, but catches himself and stops. He turns, his eyes now protruding out from his head and back into a trans-like look at the ropes. The crowd pops and Cross staggers his way over to the ropes at a mad charge to relinquish the choke Von Dierch has on him. “What’s Cross got in mi-…?” Pete’s cut off by the crowd. Cross puts his whole body on the line to evacuate himself from the position he’s in by jumping through the ropes messily taking Von Dierch with him down to the floor and booming in a loud thud that sends both men falling to an inevitable crash. The crowd goes ballistic as Pete attempts to describe what he just saw. “Unbelievable, they don’t call him the Suicide Machine for nothin’,” shouts Pete over the sound of an excited crowd, “This kid just put it all on the line to save himself from losing!” “That’s what it’s about, that’s why he’s in the SWF!” yells King, standing and getting a good look at the disaster site where Cross and Von Dierch lay side by side and totally decimated from the gruesome fall. Both men begin movement on the outside as the referee signals for a count, now up to 6. Contemplating, Cross seats himself on his BUTT looking over at Von Dierch who balances himself steadily on all fours. Cross stamps to his feet, and runs towards Jason firing a thunderous kick to his gut and following it up with several quick stomps. The ref’s impatience causes Cross to slide back into the ring to break the count. Outside, Von Dierch staggers back to his feet. Cross watches from a bird’s eye view, and then begins to stomp up and down, firing back to the ropes opposite Von Dierch, then launching over the ropes closest to the Rage clearing them with ease. Von Dierch turns in time to be met with a huge splash from Cross who once again risks everything to take down Von Dierch a step. “Spectacular dive taken by Michael Cross,” awes Longdogger, “Again, Cross is willing to risk everything to keep the pace and favor of this match tilted in his direction!” “How can you not be impressed by this kid’s talent,” questions King. Again, Von Dierch and Cross lay side by side in a pile similar to the scene just moments before. Both men begin to fidget as the ref looks on concerned, ignoring the count to check both men. Von Dierch turns over as Cross uses the rail to pull himself to leverage. Von Dierch follows closely behind not to be forgotten, pulling himself back to his feet. Cross turns and Von Dierch is right back at it having not even missed a step. Cross takes a slashing chop to the chest, blood oozing from the vicious red wound on his chest yet again. Mike shrugs off the pain and attempts to deliver a chop of his own, but is denied by Von Dierch who crushes Cross with another filleting chop that shreds more skin away, the blood flowing freely from the gaping wound on Mike’s chest. “Shrug it off,” yells King, “Wear it like a scar, Cross!” A confused Pete looks over to King who pays no attention, continuing to look on at the struggling Mike Cross who is now hugging the guard rail for life support. “The wound on Cross’ chest has expanded more than it could’ve been fathomed,” Pete claims, describing the gruesome scene, “That wound is symbolically growing bigger as an aspect of this match; the longer this goes, the more I expect Cross’ chances of winning decline.” On the outside of the ring, Jason Von Dierch shrugs off the many tags the crowd lays on him as he continues his machine-like surgery on Cross’ stability, chopping and punching him down to the ground, breaking him down to nothing more than a wounded animal as he lay defending the nasty cut across his chest with a hand soaked in his own blood. Von Dierch drags Cross back to his feet by his hair and then swats him back down, extending the lead in the match by miles as he continues to destroy the chest wound of Cross. Again and again Von Dierch picks Cross up and throws him back down, smearing the blood from his hand and forearm onto his chest. “Von Dierch is showing his dark side,” says Pete, almost silently, “This is just…gruesome.” Cross lays crippled by the blows near the rail, the ref shouting at Von Dierch who pays not attention. Cross crawls up the side of Von Dierch dragging a thick, smearing line of blood up the side with him, clinging to him for help, as he stands back to his feet unsteadily. Von Dierch watches on, and pushes Cross back against the rail, chopping him viciously again making Cross cry out in agony as two females in the front row (uncharacteristically for the SWF) watch on in horror at the site. Von Dierch lifts Cross and crotches him on the rail, slicing him one last time before climbing to the apron. He signals the death of Cross, springs up to the second rope, and launches backward driving a flying reverse elbow into Mike Cross crotched on the railing who goes flying into the first row of the crowd crushing chairs under the weight of his limp body. Von Dierch pulls himself over a chair, also now in the first row of the crowd, and drags Cross back over the rail viciously by his hair which now has lines of blood in it. “There’s no chance of Cross continuing any kind of face-paced offense from this point on,” proclaims Pete insightfully keeping in mind the devastating blood wound that’s torn through the chest of the Suicide Machine, “There’s just no chance of him recovering from the amount of blood that’s come from his chest.” Cross has now been rolled into the ring, as Von Dierch crawls in after and drags his own battered body over Cross’ who appears to be out. “It’ll be a miracle if Cross can even manage to keep himself conscious, much less alive,” exclaims Longdogger, “Cross looks like he’s thrown up blood all over himself, despite the fact that the wound he’s suffered is on his chest!” The ref slides into position and slowly makes a count to his own dismay, sickened by the blood that’s spewed from Cross’ limp body that lay just inches from his face. ONE…! TWO…..! THREE! NO! The crowd is in shock and completely behind the match, their response in utter awe of the tenacity and will in Mike Cross who manages to lift and arm just barely to hand Von Dierch a near fall, the first of the match. “OH, A KICK OUT!” yells Longdogger just as surprised as the fans, now on the edge of his seat, “Cross managed to kick out!” Aside Pete, King looks on stunned by the transpiring events in the ring. The ref holds up a triumphant two fingers to the crowd, then waves them over to Von Dierch who looks utterly stunned by Cross’ kick out despite the blood loss. Von Dierch questions the ref who shakes his head and physically shows how Cross got a shoulder up. He turns back to Cross shaking his head, and lifts him once again, dark red dry spots of blood scattering over the mat as Cross leans and stumbles back to his feet. Von Dierch pushes Cross back and then charges towards him in hopes of hitting a strong lariat. Cross swivels around and ducks the attempt by Von Dierch while stumbling around and catching him fluently with a kick to the gut. Cross quickly locks in a front headlock, reaches down grasping the leg of Von Dierch hooking it, and swings him out driving his upper back and neck thunderously to the ground with a quick swinging fisherman’s neckbreaker. The crowd pops as the momentum begins to turn. “Cross! Cross! Cross just managed to swing the tide of the match single-handedly with what he calls the ‘Blasphemy in Motion’” recalls Pete excitedly, “This match is back to anyone’s control!” In the ring, the ref looks on anxiously, counting as both Von Dierch and Cross lay sprawled out on the mat, their very souls exhaled in an attempt to win the match. ONE… TWO… THREE… FOUR… Signs of life begin to show in both men, now moving to reclaim their position on their feet. FIVE… SIX… SEVEN… The ref stops the count as both men stumble, backs turned to each other, back to their feet. Cross turns just as Von Dierch takes a step backward. Cross locks in a full nelson, looking for his finisher The Devil’s Soul Snare. Cross lifts and folds back dropping Von Dierch back on his head. Too weak to hold the pin, Cross lets go and Jason folds over to his stomach, demolished by the devastating suplex laid on him by Cross. “Cross stumbled into gold, but didn’t have the strength to go all the way with it,” exclaims Pete almost exhausted, “Cross was just an inch short of finishing the job!” In the ring, Cross manages to crawl over to Von Dierch and roll him over, laying his own bloody corpse onto Von Dierch in an attempt to salvage a victory from his own sloppy error. The ref slides down into position and makes a thunderous and lengthy count. ONE……… TWO…………… KICKOUT! Cross rolls to his back, totally winded, as Von Dierch resumes movement. The ref signals a two count, Cross too tired and weary to check if he had won or not. The crowd sits theirs butts back into their seats as both men once again crawl back to their feet. “Again, the blood loss from the wound across Mike’s chest left him too incapacitated to make an effective stand against Von Dierch,” claims Pete who is cut off by King. “Von Dierch’s cheap antics allowed him to stack the odds against Cross, damn it, this isn’t right, the ref should stop this,” decides King, “It’s just not fair!” “You…of all people,” retorts Pete, shaking his head. The action in the ring resumes as the ref, Von Dierch, and Cross have all made their way back to their feet, now regaining composure. Von Dierch resumes control over the weak Michael Cross pummeling him back into the corner with several hard fists to the face. Von Dierch snags hold of Cross’ arm and whips him hard across the ring into the opposite corner chest first slamming his wound hard into the corner. Von Dierch fires across the ring and slams into Cross recklessly crushing him with an avalanche splash that sends Cross stumbling back. Von Dierch uses Cross’ direction and thunders off the ropes delivering one hard lariat. Cross thuds to the mat and thunders back up to be met with yet another, and then again for a third that lays him out. Von Dierch signals to the ref who slides over to make the count. ONE… TWO… THR-NO! Cross manages a kick out to hand Von Dierch yet another near fall. “Cross just won’t stay down, he won’t be denied here tonight,” proclaims Pete faithfully backing the young competitor. Von Dierch looks frustrated, pulling Cross back to his feet recklessly and violently. He slaps him around, and then whips him into the ropes. Upon rebound, Jason leans over and attempts his finisher, The Crumbling Wall sidekick, narrowly missing the head of Cross who manages to duck his blood soaked abdomen over and under the leg of Von Dierch who turns around only to be met with yet another swift and thunderous kick to the gut by Cross. “Von Dierch’s frustration has led him to make crucial mistakes that have allowed Cross to keep himself in the match,” claims Pete, “Had that kick been hit at a more appropriate time, I’m confident this match would’ve been done!” “No chance, Longdogger, no chance!” King’s outrageous claims spark a look of distaste on the face of his co-anchor, PLD. Cross pulls the head of Jason under his arm and lifts him up into a suplex. Cross stumbles around the ring, Von Dierch’s legs dangling looking ready to topple the weak Suicide Machine right over. Cross pauses, holds firmly, and then drops the twisted and bridged body of Von Dierch down and onto his head for a nasty, sloppy looking brainbuster that gets an “OOOOOOOH!” out of the crowd. Cross rolls over and attempts to take a breather, having bought himself some time. By the time he’s regained his composure, Von Dierch has gotten back to his feet. Cross turns and is shoved backward, stumbling into the ref and pushing him right through the ropes and down to the floor, collapsing and laying out almost unconscious. Cross looks around, turning his back to Von Dierch who stalks Cross. “The ref is dead, DEAD,” yells Longdogger angrily, “There’s no way he can recover from that! NO, CROSS, LOOK OUT!” In the ring, Cross turns around only to be met with a crushing sidekick that sends him crumbling to his side, almost completely passed out and certainly completely stunned. Von Dierch ignores the knocked out ref and drags the limp corpse of Michael Cross to the center of the ring. He places one hand on the bloody chest and points to the air. A crowd count ignites. “ONE!” “TWO!” “THREE!” “FOUR!” Von Dierch looks on annoyed by the lack of a ref, and the crowd gives off a solemn boo. He stands, looks down at the bloody wound smeared all over the chest and face of Cross and then looks over to the turnbuckle. He strides over and begins to untie the padding. “Oh, c’mon, what is this?” Pete raves on at the tweening role played by Von Dierch who momentarily looks to cheat to win the match. Von Dierch looks back at Cross, tossing aside the padding. He drags him to his feet and pushes him to the opposite corner of the scene of the crime committed by The Rage himself. Von Dierch signals for the end, and whips Cross over. “NO! WAIT, YES, YES, YES!” proclaim both King and Longdogger who look at each other awkwardly having cheered for the same wrestler. In the ring, Cross reverses the whip launching Von Dierch towards the exposed turnbuckle. Jason flies towards it but is able to drag his feet and stop himself. He pushes off the turnbuckle and turns to see Michael Cross flying towards him. He moves and pushes Cross chest first into the exposed buckle which sends Cross flying to his back screaming in agony that rings throughout the ears of the crowd who all cringe at the bloody mess that’s left from the disaster that just claimed the Suicide Machine. “Not like this…not like this…” says Pete, nearly whispering in distraught at the way the contest appears to be nearly over. The ref begins showing signs of life, as he grasps the apron and pulls himself up just in time to see Von Dierch draping his body over the nearly dead body of Cross laid out, blood everywhere. The ref slides slightly into the ring to make the cover. ONE…! TWO….! THREEEEEE! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! The ref calls off the count and points to the arm of Cross which has been lifted just slightly off the mat to break the count. The crowd goes nuts in response to the near fall, as Pete and King look on in total shock. Von Dierch stands and lectures the ref who shrugs it off and point to Cross explaining the two count once again to Von Dierch who fails to listen, turning and dragging Cross back to his feet. Von Dierch turns a limp Cross and signals for the choke, his ‘Iron Curtain’, taking too long, Cross guts Von Dierch with a crushing elbow, and then does a standing switch. The crowd goes wild for the match as Cross lifts and locks in a quick full nelson. He drops back and crushes the spine and neck of Von Dierch with the Devil’s Soul Snare. The ref slides into position, the crowd on their feet. “OOOOOOONE!” “TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” ”THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” Cross lets go just at the last second to get the pinfall over Von Dierch who lays flat on his stomach holding the back of his head having been caught completely off-guard. “HERE’S YOUR WINNER, MY-CHULLLLL CU-ROSSSSSSS!” The crowd stands and gives off a strong applause cheering for both men in a fantastic back and forth contest. Cross’ music hits, but before he gets off all fours, the lights cut. “The match is finally over,” recites Pete exhausted, “Yet another impressive showing for the SWF youngster Michael Cr-,” Pete is suddenly cut off when the lights go dead and the arena is swept into darkness. The crowd files to their feet as cameras and lighters flicker throughout the arena like a plague. The sound of cheers and excited fans overtake the audio, until the crowd is met with the phrase “I’M ON MY WAY!” from Akira Kaibatsu’s entrance theme “Main Offender” by the Hives. The crowd loses it, and camera-like light explosions overtake the main picture. “My God, that’s Akira Kaibatsu’s theme!” Pete responds ecstatically. The lights click back on, and the crowd cheers, sending electricity sweeping through the crowd. An exhausted Michael Cross is on all fours, looking up at Mr. Kobe and Akira, who stare down at him intently, as if looking to square off. Cross hangs his head and slumps to his feet, and takes a fighting stance. The two look ready to go at it until Kobe steps forward. The crowd pauses and a sudden silence pinches the audience. “What…what is this,” questions Pete, “What is Kobe doing?” Kobe stands for a moment, and then raises a hand respectfully to Cross who looks bewildered. He smirks, and then takes a grab at Kobe’s hand who accepts Cross. Akira looks on, and offers a hand to Cross. The crowd is shocked and Pete as well as King is left in silence, pondering what actually just happened. “Could this be, could this be the Asia Underground we’ve been hearing about?” Pete sounds ready to explode with questions, however, the lights cut out again and the titantron reads “The Asia Underground, coming soon” in flaming text. The lights come on and the crowd is stunned, the 3 men who had graced the audience with their presence are now gone. “What just happened, WHAT JUST HAPPENED,” demands King. “I…don’t know,” claims Pete, quietly. The SWF cameras cut to commercial.
  14. the.weej

    SWF AFTERSHOXXXXZcXXXxXXxX

    ========================================= "Hi. I'm Ben Hardy, and thi-" "And I'm Sexton Hardcastle!" "-s is Sext-..." "..." "... welcome to SWF Aftershox. Tonight we'll be recapping the events of the Clusterfuck Pay Per View, as well as hearing from some of the winners and losers, not to ment-" "And don't forget tonight's matches!" "..." "..." "First, though, let's look back at the Pre-Pay-Per-View show, SWF Frost, where newcomer Michael Cross made his debut against Ced Ordonez." As we fade out, an audible yelp comes from Sexton, presumably from the steel-toed boot kicking him in the shin. ==== "Right out of the gate, Cross was ready to fight, but his inexperience soon got the better of him..." ==== ==== "As the match wore on, it began to look like the rookie's first match might be his last-" "But in the end, Michael Cross over-" "Damn it, Sexton, we're not there yet!" ==== "Ok, now you can say it." "No, the moment's not right anymore." "... I hate you... ugh... but in the end, Cross overcome his rookie mistakes, and landed his first SWF victory." ==== We end up back in the studio, where Sexton is nursing a black eye, and Hardy is grinning like a fool. "Well, up next, we'll see if Cross can go two for two, as he faces 'The Rage' Jason von Dierch in singles competition. Stay tuned - we'll be right back with the action!" "I think my retina's detached." "Something else will be detached if you don't shut up, you-" FADE OUT
  15. the.weej

    SWF AFTERSHOXXXXZcXXXxXXxX

    Card: -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The Main Event - Hardcore Match Insane Luchadore vs. The Crimson Skull ---> Oh yeah. You read that right. Insane f'ing Luchadore is back! Was his death elaborately staged, or did he no-sell the whole thing? Either way, he's returned to the SWF with a newfound interest in the Ultraviolent Division! That could be bad news for The Crimson Skull! Or, it could be great news for The Crimson Skull! What better way to get peoples attention that to take down a man who no-sold his own death? Rules: Hardcore~! -=-=-=- Candace 'The Joshi Dragon' Okimura vs. Matt 'The Scarlet Pimpernel' Myers ---> Well, Candace has been jockeying for more screen time, so it's time to give it to her. Start up to a new path of glory, eh? Well, the first step on King's (Or would it be Queen's?) Road is Matt 'The Scarlet Pimpernel' Myers, who is looking to make a comeback from his showing at the Clusterf**k. Will she regain her honor, or be wooed by this masked man?! Rules: Standard Singles Match -=-=-=-=- Michael Cross vs. "The Rage" Jason von Dierch ---> After an impressive debut at the Clusterfuck, Michael Cross makes his first appearance on SWF TV! Tonight, he faces a man who came up short in the Clusterfuck, and is itching for a chance to make up for it, Jason von Dierch! ROLLING ROMMELS! Rules: Standard singles match. -=-=-=-=-
  16. the.weej

    SWF AftershoX

    Toooooooo laaaaaaaaate! Whenever I felt like a promo needed that, I just used Nervous Sheep instead. I've always enjoyed the fact that Hardy and Funyon, who had about 10 IGNWF matches total, between them, have ended up outliving the careers of countless actual writers. Could you imagine if we extended the same privilege to Jack Houston or... say... the Pokefreak? -Z
  17. the.weej

    SWF AftershoX

    Card has been edited, as my glorious self is indeed posting/booking the next show. -Z
  18. the.weej

    Caution - PM's are acting funky!

    I've completed marking the main event, so it's just a matter of the CF getting organized. The new PM character limit is 50,000 and change, or roughly 10,000 words. So make that note the next time you have to send a long match in. Alternatively, we could also make use of the new attachment feature and just send the .txt or .doc files that matches are written in. -Z
  19. the.weej

    Smarkdown Discussion

    ELM did not turn in a match, no. He sent me a PM saying that you were late getting your half to him, and that he turned out to have less time than expected to write. -Z
  20. the.weej

    Clusterfuck Predictions

    Once again, I'm on CC and I don't care, so here's a selection of predictions from me for my favourite PPV of the year. The Main Event - SWF World Heavyweight Championship Match El Luchadore Magnifico © vs. JJ Johnson ->Mags has been a little absent over the last couple of weeks, which has me wondering... all things being equal, I can't in good conscience give the match to anybody except him. Johnson is still at a point in his career where he's improving with every match, but ELM has absolutely torn the house down and built it back up again since his return. I'm going to go with him, but I can't shake the feeling my hunch is true. -=-=-THE CLUSTERFUCK-=-=- I'm going to break this down into five sections. The Clusterfuck is notorious for being impossible to predict - in fact, only once, in the case of Grappler, has the favourite ever won. The Favourite Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix Good Bets "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins Wes Davenport Todd Cortez Longshots Zyon "The Icon" Max King TORU Takahara (Would be my favourite, except for things that I know) Darkhorses Stryke Christian Fury Ghost Machine v 2.0 No Chance Laberinto "The Rage" Jason von Dierch Manson The 70's Dude Matt Myers Candace "The Joshi Dragon" Okimura Kevin Coyote The Crimson Skull Bruce Blank SWF International Championship Match Jay Hawke © vs. Wildchild ->Interesting... most interesting. I have the creeping suspicion that this match may have a fixed ending designed to get the belt off of Hawke and give WC something to do in the upper midcard - although at the same time, I also think they're going to contest this one so as to set up a feud for the next month, which would be pretty awesome. Both options seem plausible, the latter seems more likely. Either way, I'm going to go with WC on this one. SWF Ultraviolent Championship Match - Japanese Deathmatch - Best of Five Bruce Blank © vs. "The Divine Wind" Akira Kaibatsu ->So if one hasn't murdered the other in 15 minutes, the cage blows up, huh? Fascinating. A perfect PPV for it, too. I want to see just these two things from this match... 1) A weedwhacker 2) The following words in the finish, "boom, explsion, everyone dies except Thoth" Don't let me down. SWF FROST Pre-PPV Extravaganza Blowout Extreme to the MAX! Singles Match Michael Cross vs. Ced Ordonez ->I like this Cross guy. He takes it, of course, unless Ced SWERVES~! us all and comes back just once to write for this one. Additional Clusterfuck Match Predictions: How many will actually turn in a match? Previous history tells me we're going to have exactly 5 matches. No more, no less. Who will be the MVP of the Clusterfuck? (You know, the guy that lasts almost the whole match but doesn't end up winning.) The "Diesel" push, yes? Generally this is given to a new guy with a lot of potential, or an older guy on the verge of breaking out. It depends on who's match it is, but given the structure of the CF this year, I think the two most plausible cantidates are Kevin Coyote and TORU Takahara, with the outside chance for Wes Davenport.(TORU being pretty funny, once again because of the things that I know.) -Z
  21. the.weej

    SWF CLUSTERFUCK 2006 CARD!!!

    3-5 matches is usually the average for the CF. It's extremely unusual for there to be a big turnout for this match, because it just seems so... daunting. That said, I'm not sure why anybody would have a problem with co-writes if the end result is more matches turned in. I think the opinion has generally been that given the fact the winner is rewarded with a title shot and immediately becomes one of the most reveered writers in the fed, could you really come to an agreement on what to do in a co-write? ...and I can assure you some sort of screwball, no contest, both guys win ending would head directly to the recycle bin, unless you channeled the spirit of Hemmingway while you wrote it. -Z
  22. the.weej

    Smarkdown Predictions

    Yeah, I'm a CC member, but who gives a rat's ass? MAIN EVENT TAG TEAM MATCH El Luchadore Magnifico© and Kevin Coyote vs. Todd Cortez and JJ Johnson ->So I'm marking this. I guess I should at least not predict this one, so we can continue pretending I'm fair and impartial. I do have to say, though, that I like the booking here, giving Kevin his first taste of the main event - along with a Hall of Famer as a partner - so early in his career. That's just class, and something I'd like to see done more often. Of course, we average about one noob per every two months, so... INTERNATIONAL TITLE MATCH LADDER MATCH[/b] Jay Hawke© vs. "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins ->The good money is on Jay Hawke. Admittedly, the length of his title reign is inflated because he only had two legitimate defenses in two months before Ramadomination, but we've really been ass-breakers about him defending his title in the new year. Each successful defense assists the credibility of his reign, although as a writer I'm not sure how necessary it is. I don't think he's reached the point where we should be pressuring him to DROP the belt yet, but I will say that's it's kind of reaching "security blanket" status and that the sooner he gets rid of it, the sooner he can do bigger and better things. Also, there have been discussions amongst CC about breaking up the USJL and ICTV again. Best of 5 Ultraviolent Matches "Agony of Defeat" Bruce Blank© vs. Akira Kaibatsu ->Who's leading the series? Whoever's trailing wins, because of course any kind of "best-of..." series in wrestling goes the full tilt. SINGLES MATCH Wes Davenport vs. Wildchild ->Not to be patronizing (alright, that's a lie), but it depends if Muzz can light a fire under his ass. While I love the Davenport character, I think taking 3 or 4 shows away from being booked was a little detrimental, because Wes is still in a kind of experimental stage. As a result, you're still at an early point of exploring the character's in-ring style, and it can be hard to figure out how to beat such an established opponent. If Muzz really gets into it, comes up with some good places to take the match, I think his victory is assured. If he struggles, I have a hard time seeing Wildchild losing. TAG TEAM TITLE MATCH????? TKO(?)© vs. Landon Maddix and "The Icon" Max King ->I'd like to think the result of this match is pretty obvious. SQUASH MATCH Zyon vs. Matt "The Cosplay Master" Myers ->Alright, here are the current Vegas lines on what character Matt comes out as... Squall Lionheart: 4:1 Spike Spiegal: 8:1 Lord Alucard: 12:1 Naruto Uzumaki: 25:1 Sakura Haruno: 50:1 Inuyasha: 65:1 Kagome: 80:1 Heero Yui: 100:1 Tsukasa: 150:1 Mai Shiranuai: 1,000:1 Tentacle Demon: 10,000:1 E. Honda 1,000,000:1 BATTLE ROYAL! Jason 'The Rage' von Dierch vs. Manson vs. Labertino vs. Christian Fury vs. Stryke ->I reckon Rage is probably going to write a pretty good match after being left off of the cards for so long. I, too, would also like to see Manson and Stryke get something together. However, the safe bet is probably Fury; he was unhappy with his last match and should turn in a very good effort here. OPENING MATCH OF DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!! Ghost Machine 2.0 vs. The Crimson Skull ->Ghost Machine via surprise saadomy. Sorry, Skull. -Z
  23. the.weej

    SWF SMARKDOWN! 1/23/06

    Astute readers will now notice a link that explains the magical history of the Kingdom, and why is is sacred ground in the SWF, much like the Gund once was. -Z
  24. The Smartmark's Wrestling Federation presents... SWF FAMILY FRIENDLY(?) LOCKDOWN! LIVE, WEDNESDAY JANUARY 18th, FROM THE *SOLD OUT* QWEST CENTER IN OMAHA, NEBRASKA! (9pm PST, 11pm EST; check local listings) It's a Lockdown... IN LIMBO! After a disasterous last show, the future of Lockdown itself, nevermind "Family Friendly," is in peril! Sponsors are dropping the show like a bad habbit, and new ones are looking rarer than Nazi war documents. As Joe Peters feverishly attempts to secure new funding for one of his marquee television programs, the workers of the SWF soldier on... for the *children.* Are Family Friendly rules in effect? Well, sort of. Maybe. Who knows? Nobody's quite sure. OPENING PROMO: Zyon and Spike Jenkins MAIN EVENT CANADIAN DEATHMATCH INTERNATIONAL TITLE BOUT Jay Hawke© vs Zyon© ->The fascists at the top of the SWF still feel that Hawke has held onto his damn belt for too long - but, unfortunately, the last time he went out to defend it, he held onto the damn thing. Well, if at first you don't succeed... this time, all the stops have been pulled out, as Hawke faces Zyon in an SWF ORIGINAL~! stipulation. Why Zyon? 'Cause he's fucking good, that's why! Rules:Regular DQ and count-out rules are not in effect. The winner is the first one to get a combined count of 10. For example, if one man pins the other for a 4 count, then a 3 count later in the match that’s a combined 7 count. Only 3 counts and higher can contribute to the combined count; you can’t just get 5 near falls in a row to win. Zyon's cruiserweight title is not on the line. Word Limit: 6000 Send To: chirs3 SINGLES MATCH JJ Johnson vs TORU Takahara ->JJJ, that bastard, took out KOJI Kitano on the last show - even if you didn't see it, it happened, read the promo, I assure you. What does this mean for TKO!? Well, they can't defend the tag titles now. Big deal. This is different from the last 2 months how? Anyway, TORU seeks VENGEANCE here on Lockdown. Rules: Singles match. Word Limit: 5000 Send To: realitycheck TRIPLE IMPACT MATCH "The Icon" Max King vs Wildchild ->Why these two? Well, why not? Two of the best the SWF has to offer THROW DOWN in a unique matchup. Does everything need two weeks of build and a thousand word description? Nah. Rules: At the beginning of the match, Funyon will read from a card one specific move. This move can be absolutely anything. (outside of something generic - dropkick, clothesline, forearm to the face, etc) The winner of the match is whomever performs it on their opponent three times. Word Limit: 5000 Send To: Justice TAG MATCH Tim Dillon & Stryke vs Kevin Coyote & Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix ->Kevin Coyote hasn't been doing so hot since his debut. Although perhaps if he wasn't so... overzealous in his attempt to earn "respect," he may not have gotten in over his head in a handicap match against Zyon and Spike Jenkins. Well, THIS time, he gets the benefit of a partner. A long-ass time ago, Landon Maddix found himself in much the same position, striving for respect. Maddix found Todd. Kevin may not be so lucky. Can Landon pass on some of the wisdom he's accrued during his long tenure in the SWF? Probably not, but who cares? Rules: Standard tag team match. Word Limit: 4500 Send To: realitycheck SINGLES MATCH Christian Fury vs Wes Davenport ->Christian Fury, who you may remeber from Ramadomination, was last seen dressed up like a Jew, getting the shit stomped out of him by angry Muslims. I think we can expect that event to never be mentioned by Fury, ever. He faces off against Wes Davenport in, coincidentally, Wes' first match since Ramadomination. First-person perspective meets first-rate arrogance in what should be a Killer! (Though not The Killer - Wes only wishes he could be Chow Yun Fat) Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 3500 Send To: janusd SINGLES MATCH Laberinto vs The Crimson Skull ->The man... the myth... the legend... THE CRIMSON SKULL at long last returns! After a long haitus, his evilness (and his evil assistant, Heff) comes back to the SWF to continue his pursuit of vile superheroes! Rules: Singles match. Word Limit: 3500 Send To: Justice (Send shit to Justice) (Booking notes: Since there was no Raynor and no Judge to help me out, much of this card was constructed with the help of the Ferret himself, Janus. All blame for any poor booking may thusly be directed at them.)
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