the.weej

“Allison, Candace, now Annie… Jesus, why can’t Toxx ever have an attractive Japanese woman who likes him?” Jet asks, lounging along one of the benches in the Revolution Zero locker room. Sean, Spike and Marcus are all present, but the leader of the group is mysteriously absent. “So, do you know who it was Toxx went to see on Thursday?” Marcus asks Jet, who shakes her head. “Wouldn’t say a word. Just kept grinning a lot, which normally means something’s about to go very wrong for someone.” “As long as it’s not for us,” Sean rumbles. “I could really do with going over tactics with him for tonight.” “He’ll be here,” Jet assures the big man. “Toxx won’t miss a show even when he’s not booked, so don’t worry about him no-showing when he’s got a match.” As if on cue, the door to the dressing room opens and the Straight-Edge Sensation steps inside with his familiar lopsided grin in place. Toxxic looks around at his assembled stable as if to check everyone is there, then shuts the door behind him. “Alright guys, what’s up?” he asks, easing the black holdall off his shoulder and setting it down on the bench beside him. “I’ve got a piece of good news.” “We’ve got a Tag Title shot?” Sean asks hopefully. “They’ve increased our wages?” Spike pipes up. “Someone’s finally found a nude pic of Amy Craven on the internet?” Jet suggests. There is a momentary pause as the other members of Rev-0 look at the dreadlocked beauty. “What?” “None of the above,” Toxxic tells them, “but Sean, I am working on that. No, I need to introduce you to someone – guys, the Revolution has just increased by one…” The Straight-Edge Sensation reaches behind him and opens the locker room door. For a moment all that is there is an empty doorway showing the corridor behind; then a man steps into their line of sight. Marcus and Sean look puzzled, evidently not recognising the newcomer, but Spike’s breath hisses through his teeth. ”Him?”

"Ouch!" With an icepack pressed against her head and her eyelid being held open by the onsite trainer, Megan Skye's night has taken a turn for the worse. And she clearly isn't in the mood to sugar coat it as she glares back at the light being shone into her right eye. From the right the trainer moves to the left, before turning off the light in his hand and putting the stick back in his pocket. "Well, I can't see any signs of concussion or any head trauma." the trainer says dryly. "You're pretty lucky." "Yeah, I sure feel lucky." Megan replies sarcastically. "Well it certainly could have been worst. You're not well trained enough to be taking these sort of shots Megan. I've known plenty of well travelled pros getting concussions from beltshots before, believe me." "I'm in training though, 'doc'. I'm tough. Don't worry about me." "Worrying about the people who work here is my job, remember." From somewhere Megan manages to find humour enough to chuckle slightly, although it doesn't do her aching head any favours. "Right..." the trainer again says dryly as he rummages around a rather untidy desk. "Apart from a nasty look bump on the head you're fine. Keep that icepack on for a while, that should stop it swelling up too much and messing up your hair. However, I wouldn't recommend anything too strenuous in the next few days. So that's no clubbing, no go-kart racing and no wrestling." "Uhm...bit of a problem there." the voice of Landon Maddix suddenly speaks up, as he finally steps into view. "She's got a match. At Ashes II Ashes." "Ah, yes...the new wrestling career." sighs the trainer. "Well, if you rest up then you may be okay for A2A. But even then, you won't be anywhere near 100% come match-time. As I say, you're not really trained for taking these sorts of shots Megan, so stepping into the ring so soon after this may be a shock to the system. However, I'm just the physio. I do recommend you get doctor's clearance before going through with this match." "Don't worry Larry, we will." Maddix says quickly before helping Megan off of the physio's bench. "Thanks again." The trainer simply nods and turns back to his 'desk' as Maddix helps Megan out of the room, acting as if she's just suffered a 10 foot fall rather than a nasty knock on the head. Actions which Megan doesn't appreciate. Pulling away from Maddix, Megan sits down on a nearby anvil case as her anxious buddy stands over her. "Right, I think Larry's right. We'll go and get the doc's opinion and see if you're okay to go." "There's no need." Megan groans, adjusting the icepack on the back of her head. "I'm fine. It's just a bump on the head, you heard him." "It's more than 'just a bump on the head'. You just got hit in the back of the head with 40 odd pounds of gold. Well...aluminium, but all the same...it's still metal." "But if I go to the doctor's, then you know what'll happen. I'll get a full check-up and we'll get the same verdict that you always get. 'One more shot to the head and you could end up concussed, in a coma, paralysed'...all that bull. And then we'll be going around doctor after doctor, looking for one who'll clear me." "No. No, we'll get one opinion and if the doctor says you can't wrestle at A2A, you won't..." "Landon..." Megan looks up at Maddix, removing the icepack from her head and grimacing slightly as the numbness the ice was creating starts to wear off. "...headache or no headache, I don't need any doctor's clearance. Whever I'm 100%, 95% or 50%... I'm going to kick that *BLEEP* guzzling bitch's ass at Ashes II Ashes!" "YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!" A little taken aback, Maddix makes sure Megan puts the icepack back on her head before smiling. "My god I'm turned on right now." "...must be the icepack." The two share a hearty laugh as the scene fades back into the arena.

“What the fuck…” Cyclone Comet quickly pulls the microphone away from Robert Riley as the arena lights begin to dim. A blinking red light at the top of the tele-prompter signals the show is back on the air. Robert Riley shrugs his shoulders dismissively as Cyclone Comet glares at his Broadcasting partner. “Ladies and gentlemen welcome back to SWF SMMMARKKKDOWWWNNN!!!” The fans cheer aloud as the house lights begin to dim. In the ring several SWF technicians amber about making the final preparations for the match. As the arena lights fade, a microphone is lowered into the center of the ring. . The cheering picks up when Funyon is seen making his way up the ring stairs. “The next match will be a hardcore affair!” Cyclone Comet rattles in a dull monotone as he fumbles through his match notes. “Did you say it was an affair?” quizzes Robert Riley as his broadcasting partner winces at his choice of words. “That’s not what I meant, Robert”, Comet bristles as a smirk flashes across Rileys face. “I should hope not!” The crowd gives a polite round of applause as Funyon picks up the microphone in mid ring. The nattily clad ring announcer is clearly ill at ease as he glances at the entranceway to the arena. He clears his throat as the crowd begins to quiet. “Ladies and gentlemen the following contest is for the Hardcore Gamers championship!” The crowd once again goes wild as several chants for Carnage compete with chants for Andrea Montgomery. The crowd seems pretty mixed in their support for either combatant. In the stands numerous Carnage and Drea signs pop up and down as loyal SWF followers offer support to their favorite Superstars. “This should be a scintillating match-up, Robert” Cyclone Comet exclaims as the less enthusiastic Robert Riley pops open a soda. “Yeah, the freak vs. the geek” Riley states drolly. “Oh, Joy!” The lights dim near the entranceway as an explosion of green pyrotechnics rock the arena. As the lights begin to brighten they appear to have a greenish tint to them that bathes the entire arena in green. Andrea Montgomery emerges from behind the curtain at the entranceway as No Doubts, “Just a girl” blares over the stadium sound system. “First making her way to the ring she weights in at 143 pounds and hails from Biloxi, Mississippi…..Ladies and gentleman please welcome ANDREAAAA MONTGOMERRRRY!!!” Andrea steps through a shower of green sparks as she makes her way to the ring. The challenger is wearing a sharp looking black leather jacket and dark tinted shades this evening. Andrea is resting a golf club on her shoulder as she calmly walks towards the ring area. She pauses momentarily to high five a few lucky members of the audience. As she gets closer to the ring she spots a young boy holding a “Drea” poster. She removes her shades and puts them on the youngster. The boy flashes a huge alligator smile as Andrea rubs his head and goes to the ring. “This Citizen Montgomery makes such a fine example”, Cyclone Comet states as Andrea launches herself into the ring via the ropes. “Yeah, an example of an idiot” Riley blurts as he continues to drink his coffee. “How can you say that? Citizen Montgomery is a tremendous wrestler, and if I may a tremendous person as well” Riley snickers as Montgomery begins her pre match stretch in her corner. “She’s from Biloxi Mississippi” Riley says with a distinct tone of disdain in his voice. “And what’s is wrong with Biloxi?” “It’s hick central, the red-neck capital of the world!” As Andrea stretches in her corner a loud of fog begins to rise from under the SmarkTron. The lights begin to dim as Funyon once again goes to the microphone “Ladies and gentlemen her opponent weights in at 317 pounds and hails from Parts unknown…Please give a warm welcome to the S.W.F. Hardcore Gamers Champion…CAAAAARNNAGGGE!!!” LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOR LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOR LET THE BODIES HIT THE…FLOOOOOOORRR!!! A fountain of white and yellow Pyros erupt from the entrance ramp as Carnage emerges from behind the curtains. He pauses for a moment at the entrance and glares over the crowd. Carnage is resting the SWF Hardcore Gamers title on his massive right shoulder. He masked madman confidently walks towards the ring as members of the audience pelt him with spit balls and obscenities. FREAK FREAK FREAAAAKK!! “Warm welcome for Mr.Crazy” Riley shoots as the masked man stands outside the ring. He locks eyes on Andrea Montgomery as he heads to the steel ring stairs. Montgomery grips her golf club tightly in her hands as Carnage steps over the top rope and heads to his corner. The challenger remains silent as Carnage climbs the corner turn buckle and raises his Championship belt high in the air for all the crowd to see. BOOOOOO!!! “Tough crowd” Riley blurts as Carnage dismounts the turnbuckle and turns his attention to Andrea Montgomery. The challenger glares at Carnage as she raises her golf club as if to strike. Carnage keeps his eyes locked on his opponent as he hands the Championship belt to the referee. “I’m a little surprised that Citizen Carnage had not bought his bat with him for this match”, Cyclone Comet begins as the referee hands the title belt to the time keeper. “This is a hardcore match and Carnage has come to the ring without a weapon!” Robert Riley takes a drink from his Dunkin Donuts Biggee; as Andrea and Carnage engage in a stare down the referee signals for the bell. DING DING “I don’t think Carnage needs any weapons.” Riley responds. “He already outweights Montgomery by close to 200 pounds.” Andrea swings the golf club at Carnage as he quickly side steps the blow. The challenger circles Carnage waving the club menacingly as what might pass as a look of concern flashes across the face of the champion. Montgomery again swings the club at Carnage who once again is able to side step the impact. “Andrea Montgomery must be a frustrated golfer!” Riley mocks as Cyclone Comet scribbles on his match notes. “The match is a hardcore match so the golf club is a legal weapon” Comet replies as Andrea once again goes for a swing and a miss. “Well thank you Captain Obvious” Andrea quickly shifts tactics and fires a well aimed toe kick to Carnages balls. The big man doubles over in pain as the challenger fires a nasty golf swing directly at his head. WHIFF Carnage someone manages to duck the lethal putter and drive a shoulder into his opponent. The challenger falls to the mat and the golf club sails across the ring. “Lets’ see how tough she is without her weapon!” Riley mocks as Carnage tries to shake off the earlier testicular assault. “I’m certain citizen Montgomery is more than ready for this match” Cyclone responds as Andrea tries to run to the loose golf club. Carnage quickly grabs her by the leg and holds her from reaching the club. Montgomery glances at Carnage and hits him with an Enzuiguri to break the hold. As Carnage is shaken she dives for the loose club. “I’m sure Citizen Montgomery is more than ready for this match” Cyclone Comet states as Andrea gains possession of the loose putter. “I spoke with her earlier and she realizes she is an underdog in the match. That is something that does not sit well with her.” A look of mock concern flashes across the face of Robert Riley. “Andrea Montgomery is a veteran SWF wrestler. She has been in ten times the matches Carnage has” Comet responds with a hint of indignation in his voice. “I don’t think she’s an underdog!” Riley exclaims in a facetious manner. “I’m sure Andrea will be able to deal with Carnages massive size advantage” As Carnage struggles to shake off the aftereffects of Andreas earlier ball shot the challenger charges at her opponent with the club. Carnage greets her with a Big Boot to the face, as Andrea goes crashing to the mat. “Or not…” Riley quips. Carnage grabs Andrea by the hair and pulls her up. Andrea responds with several quick strikes to the champions midsection. As Carnage is surprised by the attack Andrea catches him with a Jawbreaker. The big man is staggered giving Montgomery a chance to fire a quick heel kick to his left knee. Carnage continues to wobble but like the mighty Weeble, will not go down. The challenger gets to her feet and hits a standing drop kick to her opponents chest. “Citizen Montgomery is taking the action to the champion!” Cyclone Comet exclaims as the masked madman continues to avoid the knock down. The SWF resident Psycho staggers back and rests against the corner ring post. Andrea Montgomery nails the champion with a handspring phoenix splash in the corner which finally knocks Carnage to the mat. “I don’t believe it!” Riley blurts. “Andrea Montgomery has knocked Carnage on his ass!” The challenger fires a series of sharp kicks to Carnages chest as he struggles to get to his feet. The champion finally makes it to his feet as a look of rage is visable in his eyes. He nails the pesky Andrea with a blistering knife-edge which forces her into an immediate retreat. Carnage steps out of the corner and grabs his opponent by the waist. He shoves her into the corner and nails her with an elbow smash to the head. The impact rattles Andrea, giving Carnage a moment to go to the center of the ring. Andrea quickly regains her bearings as Carnage fires a brutal clothesline at her. WHIFF Andrea ducks under the clothesline as carnage crashes into the corner turn buckle. The challenger quickly slips behind the champion and surprises him with a victory roll. The referee quickly dives to the mat to make the count ONE TWO THR…No! Carnage just barely kicks out. “Near pin fall by the challenger!” Comet understates as Robert Riley shifts nervously in his seat. “Montgomery got a little lucky there, but Carnage was not about to get pinned with a lame move like that” As the champion struggles to get to his feet Andrea immediately surprises him with a Mahistrol Craddle Pin. The challenger makes full use of the ropes for leverage as the referee once again goes for the count. ONE TWO TH…No! Carnage once again kicks out. “Incredible effort by Citizen Montgomery”, Comet gushes as Riley watches the action in shocked silence. “She’s pesky…and all over the ropes!” Riley responds indifferently. “It seems to me like Citizen Andrea is taking this rookie to school!” Riley scoffs at the suggestion as he pauses for a moment to take a sip from his coffee. “Well see about that” Andrea Montgomery fires a quick eye poke to Carnage as he again struggles to get to his feet. He appears shocked by the move and rubs his eyes in pain. The challenger nails him with a quick DDT as the crowd goes wild. DREA DREA DREA Carnage instinctively rolls on his back in an effort to get back to his feet. Andrea capitalizes on the position and nails her fallen opponent with a Falling Star Bomb. Once again she wraps Carnage up for the pin. ONE TWO TWO AND A HALF THRE…No! Carnage once again kicks out of the last moment. “Holy Cow Batman!” Cyclone Comet blares. “That was close!” “Holy Shit Comet!” Robert Riley blares. “I am not Batman!” A look of frustration is clearly evident on Andrea Montgomerys face as Carnage continues to escape her attack. As Carnage struggles to get to his feet Andrea attempts to clamp on a front face lock. The champion counters by nailing Montgomery with a jarring Spine buster. Andrea Montgomery is staggered by the move, giving Carnage ample opportunity to nail her with a blistering clothesline. The challenger crashes to the mat in a heap. “and the tide begins to turn…” Riley exclaims with obvious pleasure in his voice. “The match is far from over!” Comet replies as he nervously figits in his seat. Carnage walks over to his fallen opponent and casually rests his foot on her chest. He raises his hands in the air in celebration as the referee dives to the mat to make the count. ONE TWO No! Andrea kicks out. “Sloppy cover by the champion!” Cyclone Comet blurts as Carnage glares at the challenger. “He probably realizes that Andrea Montgomery has no business being in the ring with the Hardcore Gamers champion!” Riley replies with a hint of indignation in his voice. “ She should be at home vacuuming the house and baking cookies, and certainly not challenging for the Hardcore championship!” Comet turns to his broadcasting partner and shakes his head in disbelief. “There are those who say that Andrea Montgomery has been in more title matches than Carnage has been in matches.” Cyclone exclaims as Riley goes to work on his Nachos. “There are those who say…outside of Austin Sly…Carnage has not beaten a single quality SWF opponent.” he continues as Riley listens on uninterestedly. “Like they know what they’re talking about!” Carnage shrugs his shoulders indifferently as he reaches down to grab the challenger by the hair. As he does so Andrea catches the Masked man in an inside cradle. Once again the referee dives to the mat to count the fall. ONE TWO THR…No! Carnage kicks out! Riley gags on his coffee as he watches Carnage shove Montgomery off of him. A look of shock is clearly visable in the champions eyes as he realizes Montgomery has come to fight. “Once again Andrea Montgomery nearly pins Carnage!” Cyclone Comet reports as the masked man fires a thunderous clothesline at his opponent. WHIFF Andrea ducks under the clothesline and drops to the ground. In the process she extends her leg and does a quick leg sweep that sends Carnage down to the mat. The challenger springs to her feet and runs to the ropes, as she bounces off the ropes she goes into a foreward roll and catches Carnage with a jawbreaker just as he is rising to his feet. DREA DREA DREA “Andrea Montgomery will not be denied” Cyclone exclaims as the crowd cheers on the beloved challenger. “She has come here to fight tonight and she is taking it to the champion!” Riley sits in silence as he watches Andrea go to the ropes. LIONSAULT CRASH The crowd is silenced as Carnage raises his knees before Andrea lands. The challenger howls in pain as they drive into her gut. Andrea rolls to the mat in an effort to distance her self from the SWF resident psycho as he begins to get to his feet. “Crash and burn” Riley mocks as Cyclone Comet looks on dejectedly. Andrea scurries across the ring as Carnage gets to his feet. She finds the golf club resting on the mat and grabs it as the crowd cheers her on. “It appears Citizen Montgomery has regained possession of the golf club!” “She’s going to need it”, Riley replies as Andrea springs to her feet. Carnage heads directly towards Montgomery, but stops dead in his tracks when he spots the club. The challenger glares at her opponent as she tightens her grip of the weapon. “Come to Mamma you ugly bastard!” she yells as the crowd begins an anti-Carnage chant. FREAK FREAK FREAK Carnage backpeddles from Andrea and he puts his hands over his ears. The crowd continues to cheer on Andrea as Carnage leans against the corner turnbuckle. A look of panic is visable in the champions eyes as he realizes that Andrea has trapped him in the corner. “It would appear that Tee time is a little late this afternoon” Cyclone Comet states in a weak effort at comedy. Robert Riley glances at his partner with a sour expression on his face. “That was pathetic!” Andrea Montgomery waves the golf club menacingly as Carnage attempts to find an escape route from his corner. The perpetually strange Andrea raises the club high over her head and waves it in a circular motion while screaming at the top of her lungs. Carnage, fearing the worst, raises his mammoth left arm to protect his head from the maniacal Andrea Montgomery as she slams the golf club hard into the side of the Champions head. CRASH “Merciful Zeus!” Comet exclaims as a explosion of tiny wooden splinters fly into the air by Carnages head. “It would appear that Carnages mask is made of a wooden substance!” Riley signs in frustration as he shakes his head in disbelief. “The only wooden substance in that ring is Andrea Montgomerys’ head. As the cloud of wooden splinters settle to the ground Carnage is seem glaring at his opponent. The two wrestlers stand motionless for a moment of awkward silence. The champion slowly wipes the residue of hundreds of tiny wooden splinters from his T-shirt as Andrea stands in silence holding the remains of a shattered balsa-wood golf club. “Balsa wood” Riley begins. “Great for toy airplanes, not so hot against 320 pound Psychopaths” Andrea quickly fires a knife-edge at the champion. It seems to go unnoticed as he wraps his arms around Montgomery’s chest and nails her with a belly to back suplex. Andrea howls in pain at the impact and receives a falling head BUTT to her sternum in sympathy from her enraged opponent. “I’m very surprised that citizen Montgomery would choose to enter a hardcore match with only a balsa wood golf club for a weapon!” Cyclone Comet understates as Robert Riley snickers at the challengers misfortune. “That’s Andrea Montgomery for you.” Riley retorts as he takes a sip from his coffee. “As undeniably crazy as Carnage is, I think Andrea Montgomery is even more looney” Carnage pulls the challenger to her feet and hoists her into the air. A look of panic flashes across Montgomerys’ face as Carnage military presses her into the air. FREAK FREAK FREAK Carnage walks to the ropes to align Montgomery’s neck with the top rope. As the crowd continues to scream at the SWF resident mad man he drops her to the mat. As Andrea heads to the canvas her neck bounces over the top rope and she convulses on the mat in agony. “Holy Cow” Comet exclaims as Carnage stands over his fallen opponent. “Look out for that top rope…it’s a doosey!” Riley mocks. Carnage pulls Andrea to her feet then positions her in an apparent Abdominal stretch. He quickly changes his mind as he turns the move into a pump handle slam. The challenger appears out on her feet and does little to disrupt the champions’ plans. CRASH Carnage drives Andrea Montgomery to the mat with tremendous force. The ring shakes as Andrea bounces about six inches off the mat. FREAK FREAK FREAK Carnage jogs backward and bounces off the ropes. He does his best Hulk Hogan and drops a leg across the throat of the fallen Andrea Montgomery. She lies motionless on the mat as the champion covers her for the pin. ONE TWO THR—NO! Carnage pulls Andrea Montgomery up. “What the?” Cyclone Comet questions in disbelief. “Evidently Mr. Nut job here wasn’t satisfied with that”, Riley replies as Carnage once again pulls Andrea to her feet. The crowd continues to taunt the SWF resident psycho as he positions Andrea’s head between his knees. He effortlessly hoists her into the air in a textbook Power Bomb position KABLAAM! Carnage drives Andrea once again to the mat. The ring once again shakes as Andrea continues her bouncing ways. Carnage runs to the ropes and rebounds off them as he drives an elbow smash into the heart of the obviously defenseless Andrea Montgomery. “Absolutely brutal Power Bomb!” Cyclone Comet yells as Carnage wraps his opponent for the pin fall. The referee quickly falls to the mat and begins the count. ONE TWO THRE….NO! Once again Carnage pulls Andrea up to break the count. “This is uncalled for” Comet understates as the crowd screams in unison at the mad man. FREAK FREAK FREAK “Oh well, what can I say?” mutters Robert Riley dismissively. “Bloodsport!” Carnage pulls Andrea to her feet and hoists her into the air in one fluid motion. He quickly inverts her as Cyclone Comet turns his head to look away. TOMBSTONE PILEDRIVER!! BOOOOO!!!!! Carnage falls to his knees at the head of Andrea Montgomery and slowly folds her arms across her chest. The audience quiets as the referee moves in to count the pin. ONE TWO TWO AND A HALF “No…way is Andrea kicking out of this” Riley states quietly. “THREE!!” The referee raises the hand of the SWF Hardcore Champion as he slowly goes to her feet. He arrogantly rests his size 16 Triple E on the chest of the decimated Andrea Montgomery as the referee signals for the bell. DING DING DING Hundreds of flash bulbs flicker in the arena as Carnage stands over his opponent. Funyon quickly enters the ring as grabs for the microphone. Carnage glances down at Montgomery, and then calmly goes to his corner of the ring. “The time of the match twenty two minutes and twelve seconds…the winner and STILL SWF Hardcore Gamers Champion…CAAARNAGGE!!!” BOOOOOO!!!! “Andrea put up a tremendous effort, but it would appear the cards were stacked against her this match” Cyclone offers as several SWF referees’ and other federation officials check on the status of the fallen superstar. “She’s be fine” Riley responds sympathetically. “ She’ll go home to Scratch -Ass Mississippi, rest for a few days, deep-fry a couple of babies, then be as good as new!” Carnage stops in his corner as glances at the broken balsa wood golf club. He reaches to the floor and picks up the remains and glares at them in silence. “What is Carnage doing now?” asks Comet with great concern in his voice. “Who knows?”, Riley replies. “I don’t think Carnage knows what he is doing from one minute to the next” Outside the ring a group of security guards bring a gurney to the ring. The crowd falls to a dead quiet as they make their way to ringside and pass a navy-blue backboard under the bottom rope. Several medical personnel work on the unconscious Andrea Montgomery as Carnage quietly leaves the ring. “I certainly hope that Citizen Montgomery is not seriously injured”, Cyclone Comet States, his voice thick with concern. “It would break my heart to see her hurt!” Riley responds with tremendous insincerity. The people in the ring carefully pass Andrea under the bottom rope and to the gurney. The medical personnel quickly roll out and secure the fallen SWF Superstar to the stretcher as the audience rises to their feet to get a better view. A little boy wipes tears from his eyes as he holds the dark-tinted shades that Andrea gave him prior to the match. As medical personal begin to roll the gurney to the entrance ramp there is suddenly movement from Andrea. The crowd gives a round of applause as she raises her right hand in a “Thumbs up” pose. CRASH Carnage charges from out of nowhere and drives a shoulder into the gurney. The audience screams as medical people run from the area. The SWF resident psycho effortlessly flips the gurney over as a large contingent of security guards and SWF officials separate Carnage from Andrea. “Holy Shit” Cyclone yells as Carnage walks away from the wreckage. BOOOOOOO!!! The Masked Madman heads to the steel ring stairs and calmly picks up the top portion. He elevates it over his head as the crowd once again begins an anti-Carnage chorus FREAK FREAK FREEEEEAAAAAKKK!!! “God Lord he’s not going to do what I think he’s going to do!” Carnage turns to see numerous security guards and SWF personnel standing between him and Andrea. As they block his path several orderlies quickly upright the gurney and head to the nearest exit. Carnage glares over at the terrified security force, and then tosses the chairs to the ground. Cyclone Comet pauses to catch his breath as Carnage finally heads up the entrance ramp and out of the arena. He is followed by nearly a dozen security guards in the process. “That was too close for comfort”, Cyclone states as he tries to straighten his match notes. “There is clearly something wrong with Citizen Carnage” Riley chuckles as he takes another sip from his coffee. “Did you just figure that out, Comet?” he asks in amazement. “That guy is as crazy as they come. He makes Hannibal Lecter look like Mr. Rogers!” Cyclone just nods in silent agreement as SWF SMARKDOWN goes to commercial.

Comet: "Well Rober..." Riley: "Comet, I can't be bothered to talk right now. Especially considering my contract is up for renewal and I'm being asked to take a PAYCUT, so you'll be talking to yourself if you continue." Comet: "...tally ho. Let's send it back to Benjamin Hardy." "Thank you guys." Hardy grins, in his overly happy manner. "I'm back here with Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix and Megan Skye..." The camera pans away from Hardy and to the seated duo, which gets a pop from the fans in the arena. "...SWF Women's Champion Kelly Connelly and SWF ICTV Champion Max King..." The cheers turn to boos as Kelly and Max appear across the room, with a line of referees and various members of security standing between the two 'couples'. Still, the four cast the odd glare and sneer at each other as Hardy gets back into view. "...and acting head honcho of the SWF, The Suicide King." Suicide King can now be seen sat behind his desk, wearing a damp grey t-shirt...obviously fresh off of another training session. He glares past the camera as Hardy steps into view once more. "Now, at Ash..." "Kid." deadpans King, clearly unhappy. "Kid, get over here." Interrupted in mid-flow and looking distinctly like a dear in headlights, Hardy does as he's told walks around the desk to King, who is still glaring at him. "First off...if you call me 'head honcho' once more, then you and your hideous vocabulary are going to be dumped in the doll queue this time tommorrow. Now you just stand there and hold the mic steady, while trying not to look too stupid. As you were trying to say, Ashes II Ashes is closing in. I made the match between you Max and you Maddix a couple of weeks ago and when I did, I told you Max that you could pick any stipulation you wanted for the match." Max smiles and nods as Maddix and Megan both sneer over at him. "And by any stipulation, let me make clear I mean ANY stipulations. Money is no object. Complexity isn't an issue. And believe me, it can be as brutal as you wish to make it Max. The reason you're here though is that I need the contracts written up and ready to sign by tonight. Otherwise, I can't clear certain things. Which is why I'm going to need you to decide on the stipulation." "Don't worry Mr King, we have made a decision." announces Kelly. "Well, then in that case can we hear the decision?" Just as Kelly goes to respond, Max coughs and motions for Kelly to lend him her ear. She does, as Max whispers something to her esteemed manageress. She nods, turning away from Max and to the other, older King. "Well...actually Mr King, my client would like to keep the stipulation secret until the night of the show. You know, give the fans a surprise. A reason to order the show." "A reason to stack the deck against me you mean." Maddix snaps from across the room. "I don't need to stack the deck Maddix!" the ICTV Champion snaps back in kind. "It's already stacked when you're up against the Interconti..." "Save it Max. We all know how you 'won' that be..." "Gentlemen, please." King sighs. "A little order?" Clearly not in the mood for dealing with any bickering, King waits for both Max and Maddix to sit back down into their seats that they had vacated during the arguement, before turning back to Kelly. "Look, I can do without all this Kelly. I've got a lot on my mind, what with Hell In A Cell with Stevens and dealing with the rest of the roster. So, to save any arguements, you'd best tell us all the stipulation now. That way, I don't have this little runt pestering me all week trying to get me to tell him the stipulation." Maddix takes exception to the 'little runt' crack and goes to stand up, only calmed by Megan Skye and a hand on the shoulder. Meanwhile Kelly and Max echange an awkward look, before Kelly shrugs and takes a piece of paper from her pocket, unfolding it and passing the paper to King. He scans the paper, smiling as he does so...which doesn't fill Maddix and Megan with too much confidence. "Interesting...very interesting." Again, Maddix and Megan are looking a little sceptical as the two Kings and the Queen are all smiling from ear to ear at the secret they hold. Casting his smile towards Maddix, King looks down at the paper once more before passing it to Benjamin Hardy. "Here kid, earn your money and tell the people at home what it says." Hardy nervously takes the paper, seeing Maddix and Megan leaning in eagerly in anticipation of the announcement, while King is complimenting Max and Kelly on their inventivenous. "Okay...okay, well. It says here that the match will be called a "Royal Beating" Match. Uhm...well, there are No Disqualifications in the match. Infact, the match will be held within the confines of a fifteen foot high steel cage..." "YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!" Maddix's eyebrows rise as Max begins to guffaw away to himself. "...in fact, it'll be a special cage. No door. And a roof. So, there will be no escapes once the two men are in the cage. In addition, once the cage is lowered...uhm, is this...is this right?" "Of course it's 'right'!" snaps Kelly cattily. "Uhm...well, it just seems a little..." "Just read the damn paper and keep your opinions to yourself, would you?" King finally interjects, glaring at Hardy in a way that could kill, if looks could. "Of...of course." stammers Hardy. "Once the cage is lowered, both men will be attached to a...leather strap. From there, the match progresses with pinfalls and submissions the only way to render a decision. And then, once a decision has been rendered, the winner of the fall has to touch all four turnbuckles of the ring in succession, 'without his momentum being disrupted'. If it is, the match will continue from stage one and will only end when one man has scored a pinfall or submission and then touched all four buckles in succession. Then, and only then...'will Max King retain his title'." Max and Kelly chuckle, King joining in although considerably quieter. Speaking of quiet, Maddix and Megan are just that, as Maddix takes a deep sigh before standing up from his seat and looking over the shoulders of security to where Max and Kelly sit. "Very good." Maddix sneers, looking in Kelly's direction. "Thank you..." "No, no. Thank YOU Max. Thank...YOU!" Suddenly Maddix is smiling, as just as suddenly the smiles of Max, King and Kelly have all evaporated. "I must say, I couldn't have come up with much better myself. I mean, not only do you put yourself in a cage with me, but it's a cage with a roof and no door? Bravo. Now there's no chance of you running away from me and there's no way your bitch can get involved in the match to help you. Oh, and even better...you can't even get away IN the cage, because you're voulenteering yourself to be attached to me with a leather strap. I must say King, I had you down as quite the pussy." Max suddenly stands up too as security are readying themselves to prevent any attacks, while Maddix and Max glare at each other past the bodies. "Seems I was wrong. Seems you actually have some guts, to put yourself in that position Either that, or you're just dumb enough to give me exactly what I want. Either way..." "I'm gonna kick your ass Maddix!" yells King suddenly, trying to interrupt Maddix who shrugs it off. "...either way, I could care less. The fact is...at Ashes II Ashes, you've set yourself up for one almighty fall my friend. There will be no controversy this time around. The only thing there will be to worry about once that cage raises back up and I unhook that strap from my wrist...the only thing to worry about then is whever I went too far or not. Whever I whipped you that one time too many. Whever I grated your flesh into that steel once more than I should have. And whever I just ruined a promising, exciting career. All because of what YOU set yourself up for." "It won't happen that way Maddix, it won't. You don't stand a chance!" "Oh, really. Well let's look at things this way Max...what have I got to lose? You're the 'champion'. It's your match. And you've laid me out plenty of times before this month. You have momentum on your side. And what do I have?" "Nothing! You've got nothing Maddix!" "That's right...I have nothing...except a burning, growing desire...to beat you within an inch of your life at Ashes II Ashes." "Why wait Maddix? Why wait until Ashes II Ashes...when we can get it on...right now!" Max is ready to go, ripping off his shirt and beckoning Maddix on...which prompts security into action, bunching together between the two men and preparing for action. All the while, Suicide King is yelling at them to keep Maddix and Max apart. But he needn't worry about that. He should worry about Kelly Connelly, who is creeping around the back of his desk with her Women's Championship in her hands. Megan Skye is meanwhile trying to hold her man back. Leaving her wide open... *SMACK!* ...to a beltshot to the back of the head! Megan collapses instantly as Kelly motions for Max to 'come on' as she bolts for the door. Max quickly follows, picking up his belt on the way and running past Maddix, who is busily checking to see if Megan is okay. "Oh...by the way, I forgot to mention..." Suicide King casually chuckles, leaving his desk. Maddix, still concerned for Megan, hovers over her protectively as Suicide King saunters over and smiles down at the prone body laying on his office floor. "...you'd better bring your ring attire to Ashes II Ashes, sweetcheeks. Because you're getting a shot at the Women's Championship. Good luck. Oh, and don't forget to shut the door on your way out kid." King laughs and leaves the office with a spring in his step, as Maddix snarls for a moment...before continuing to check on Megan's condition.

The pretty blonde smiles sheepishly as she hands Bob Riley his order of cheese Nachos. The well known SWF announcer grumbles as he digs his over stuffed wallet from his jacket. “That will be $4.99” she says as Riley fumbles through a wad of ATM receipts and discarded notes. He finally…and with great reluctance…pulls a fiver from the old, beaten wallet. The girl smiles politely as Riley glares at her for change. She hands him his penny as he huffs away with his Nachos. Robert Riley glances over the crowds as they are beginning to return to their seats from intermission. He notices Cyclone Comet busily checking out his microphone at the announcers table and realizes he better get back to his seat. As Riley heads towards the announcers table he hears a familiar voice from his past. “Could I have a little coke with this Ice?” an agitated voice blares from the distance. Riley glances at the complainer and is surprised to see someone he recognizes. He stands there with his mouth ajar as he glares at the man in the Pierre Cardon Tux…covering a Dallas Cowboys sweatshirt…arguing with the Burger King counter clerk. FRISCO “Well I’ll be damned!” Riley exclaims as Frisco takes his coke and turns to walk away. The infamous manager pauses momentarily when he recognizes Riley’s voice. He stops to take a sip from his soda as he turns to the announcer. “Robert, good to see you” the petulant manager replies as the two men exchange pleasantries. “What brings you to this neck of the woods?” Riley asks as Frisco glances at his watch. “I was in town, thought it would be good to take in the card” “What section are you seated at?” A look of disdain flashes over Frisco’s face as he points towards a luxury Sky Box over looking the arena. “You know me, I’m not about to be rubbing elbows with the 9 to 5ers” Riley chuckles as he spots Candace Okimura walking over to the men. The Dragon looks beautiful in Guess Jeans and a white oversized sweatshirt. A smile comes to Riley’s face when he notes the writing on Candace’s’ shirt BITCH-IBON “I’m sure Onita will love that!” he says as the Dragon smiles innocently. Once again Frisco glances at his watch as he appears pressed for time. “Well Robert I must be going. I have some business to attend to” Riley nods as Frisco begins to walk away with Candace. “Frisco!” he calls as the self-proclaimed legend turns to face him. “What kind of business?” A wry smiles flashes over Frisco’s face as he houselights begin to dim. “You’ll know soon enough”

The match commences Manson kills everyone Yet Fury still wins

Actually, I meant you should send Hannon to Boston. I mean, come on, man. ...or New York, if you want to be a cock. -Z

And I don't think there's any real question of where you should send him, Evo. And as a note, the guy who's third in the league in Ks and first in his confrence gets passed on for the all-star game? Weak. -Z

n00b. Do they really seem that strange these days? -Z

Two things: As always, Thoth has forgetten that TNT posts after him, not me, so that's been corrected. Also, there is only one more show until Ashes 2 Ashes, so if you haven't already, it's time to get rolling on your PPV plans. -Z

Nigel's the Pride's ace now, huh? Uh-oh. On the upside, he's on pace for 402 Ks this season! -Z

Tempted to just leave it as-is for Nigel, but that's probably not going to help his consistency issues. Pure Stuff - 7 Velocity - 4 Control - 4 Stamina - 5 -z

I've no idea; they're supposed to decide. Spike may be getting the ICTV shot, given that he got the pin in the match. You'd have to ask. -Z

Cortez & Jenkins. And I made a note that Dustin is out, but TNT appears to have ignored it. -Z

Urk. I just remembered that Dustin PMed me about having net troubles a while back, and I forgot to edit him off the roster. Sorry, Sly, but I wouldn't wait up for that. -Z

The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents... SWF STORM! LIVE, FRIDAY OCTOBER 8TH, FROM THE *SOLD OUT* ROSE GARDEN IN PORTLAND, OREGON! (8pm PCT, 11pm EST; check local listings) Card: MAIN EVENT WORLD TITLE MATCH TITLE VERSUS CAREER Toxxic© vs Mike Van Siclen On the show before last, MVS rudely interrupted a match between Andrea Montgomery and Toxxic for the world title by smoking Toxxic with a chair. I mean, holy shit, did you see that? What a shot! Toxxic's head snapped back, like, 45 fucking degrees! Take a seat, huh? Beautiful. Um, anyway, Mike's reall full of Toxxic's egocentric bullshit, as seeing too much of himself in one man is too much for anyone to take. He laid down the challange for the world title, and Toxxic was ready to blow him off, until Mike prepared the ultimate sacrifice: His career for the Straight Edge Sensation's belt. An oppertunity a limey like Toxxic can't refuse, of course. If Mike wins, he reaches the top of the mountain after one of the most enduring careers in SWF history... but if Toxxic wins, that career is put to bed forever. Rules: Standard singles match. If Toxxic wins, Mike goes home. Word Limit: 6000 Send To: realitycheck DUMPSTER MATCH ICTV TITLE BOUT "The Icon" Max King© vs Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix In what would definitley be considered an upset, Landon Maddix lost his ICTV championship to Max King a while back. Obviously, this is the sort of thing you can't just forgive and forget, so the eagerly anticipated rematch happens here, on Storm! And what better way to settle this than a match where someone's gotta' throw their opponent right where in belongs: In the trash! Rules: There is a dumpster up at the top of the ramp, graciously provided by our friends at Laidlaw. The man who tosses his oppnent into the dumpster and closes the lid is the winner. Word Limit: 5750 Send To: Thoth TRIPLE THREAT Andrea Montgomery vs Johnny Dangerous vs Ace Lezaire The former world champion, Johnny Dangeous, gets his first chance to take on real tough competition since his Genesis V loss to the current world champion, Toxxic! He takes on Andrea Montgomery, who faced Toxxic for the world title two shows ago and could've squeaked out a victory if not for Mike Van Siclen's interferance, and Ace Leziare, the incredibly talented Canuck who's never quite been able to duck and weave out of the midcard! There's nothing on the line here except pride, and a possible reshuffling of the main event scene. Rules: First pin wins. Word Limit: 5000 Send To: Grand Slam TAG TEAM TITLE MATCH Revolution 0© vs David Cross & Christian Fury Spike Jenkins and Sean Davis beat out Hollywood Boulevard for the tag straps at Genesis, ending the single longest tag team reign in history. However, with the tag scene as it is, they're really going to have to work to have their reputation rise to that of the greats. Christian Fury and David Cross are the reigning hardcore and USJL champions, respectively, and they've been teamed up in hopes their success can carry them into the tag division... and into double gold. Rules: Standard tag team match. Don't forget the tag ropes. Word Limit: 4500 Send To: chirs3 SINGLES MATCH Evan Wolfe vs rKade Wolfe and rKade were losers last show, and they look to correct that here. It would also help if rKade remembered to send his match to the correct marker this time. Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 3500 Send To: 5_moves_of_doom SINGLES MATCH Uncle Filthy vs Carnage UNCLE~! may be becoming one of the most quickly beloved nooblets in a long time, but unfortunately, he ended up taking a spill at the hands of everyone's favourite double no-show crushing misandrist ferret/weasel hybrid. Evil-doers beware! Erm. He and his 1-1 record take on Carnage, who won his debut match with all sorts of funky bold and itallic tags. Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 3500 Send To: Suicide King (Z notes: Word limits have generally been reduced, and if I couldn't think of a compelling matchup for people, I left them off the card for this one. This should give you guys an oppertunity to recuperate, and with any luck, toss in something extra for the show. Also, it's a few hours later than usual because of the time it took me to post.) (Send all stuff to Thoth)

Oh, also. I'd suggest condensing a few of the nominations into a single thread -- ones specifically related to each other, or losely related, or whatever. It won't clutter up the community board so much. ...not that it would impede any discussion or anything... -Z

Don't worry about the Hall of Fame, Tom. CC already has that well underway. A VERY IMPORTANT NOTE I'd like to make is that these threads are for NOMINATIONS ONLY, and absolutely NO voting should take place in them. Provided we sort the noms out quickly, the ballots will be up relatively soon. -Z

Just for the record, there's no-one as the storyline commissioner at the moment. In storyline, you could say King is 'entertaining' new commissioner ideas, although he probably won't be deciding on something anytime soon. A commissioner isn't really necessary for anything. -Z

And that's all they wrote. An alright show, although I'm once again disappointed with the general lack of promoage. I guess I can't complain too much, what with the nooblets promoing up and down the front page and whatnot. Anyway, two notes: Zenon is definitely still retired, Birdman's promo off the top is an aberration, and the card will be up sometime tomorrow, as I'm heading off. Check out the Ebony match, and show your love for everyone's favourite sociopathic misandrist antromorphic furry! -Z

Earlier today *RING* Michael Anderson stops in mid-stride at the sound of his cell phone. *RING* Leaning on his cane, Anderson reaches into his suit pocket to retrieve the device, and flips it open before he continues walking. “Anderson speaking.” “…” “What? Wait, slow down, kid; what’s the problem?” “…” “What? I thought they said Frances didn’t make it that far south!” “…” “Jeanne did? Oh my God! Well, have you heard from your parents?” “…” “Oh. Well, what about your brother?” “…” “I see. Well, what do you need me to do?” “…” “I don’t know about that, kid; you’re supposed to be wrestling Dagda tonight. He might want to keep you until…” “…” “Right. Well, I was on my way to his office anyway. You might want to meet me there to talk to him yourself.” “…” Anderson takes a deep breath before replying. “I don’t need you to remind me of what you’re paying me for,” he says through clenched teeth. “Look, kid, I understand that you’re under stress right now, so I’ll let that slide, but…” “…” “Fine. Just meet me in Zenon’s office. And be advised that if he doesn’t want to cooperate…” “…” Anderson’s eyes widen in astonishment. “Are you sure you want to go that far? I mean, if you let the cat out of the bag…” “…” “Point taken,” Anderson says with a sigh. “Forgive me if I gave the impression that I don’t know where your priorities lie. Look, I’ll take care of it. Just meet me in Zenon’s office, just in case.” “…” “Right. I’ll see you there.” Anderson closes his phone and jams it back into his pocket as he continues to limp down the hallway towards the Commissioner’s office. TEN MINUTES LATER “He wants time off to go WHERE?” SWF Commissioner Alex Zenon stares incredulously at Michael Anderson. “And exactly how long has he been planning to do this, may I ask?” “As a matter of fact,” replies Anderson, “this is kind of a last-minute situation.” Zenon shakes his head. “Look, Mister Anderson, Birdman has been very impressive in his short time here, but it’s not a common practice for us here in the SWF to grant leave on such short notice, especially not to rookies.” “Surely you can make an exception in this case,” haggles Anderson. “I mean, this is a fam—” But Zed cuts him off before he can continue. “It’s like this; I’ve got Birdman booked in a match against Danny Dagda tonight. I can’t change the show at the last minute like this. I’m sorry.” *KNOCK, KNOCK* “Come in,” says Zenon, and the door opens to reveal the Birdman. “Birdman, welcome. We were just talking about your request for leave…” “Before you finish that sentence,” says Anderson, “I’m asking you again to reconsider. Think of the good will; you don’t want it to get out that you’re not accommodating towards rookies, do you? Let’s not make a decision in haste that you may regret later.” Zenon’s pupils narrow in irritation. “Alright, Mister Anderson, I’ve had just about enough of your strong-arm tactics; I don’t know who you think you are, but I don’t kowtow to the whims of agents and managers around here. If your client expects to leave on the night of a show he’s scheduled to wrestle on, ESPECIALLY considering where the hell he wants to go, he’d better have one hell of a good reason!” Anderson looks to Birdman pensively, and the Feathered Fowl reaches towards the back of his head as he begins to unmask. The Commissioner’s eyes grow to the size of saucers as he sees Birdman’s identity revealed. “Well,” says Zenon, after several seconds of silence, “at least that explains why you want to go there…” Anderson looks towards Birdman, as though to ask him whether or not he intends to speak for himself, but Birdman nods wordlessly to his agent and remains silent. “As I started to say,” he continues, “this is a family emergency. Apparently, they were hit pretty hard by Hurricane Jeanne; no one’s been able to communicate with any of his family down there, and he wants to go check on them in person. Zenon nods absentmindedly, still somewhat shaken by this revelation. “Right… take all the time you need. I guess I owe you that much.” Birdman quickly pulls his mask back over his head, and clasps Anderson on the shoulder in an expression of gratitude before darting out the door. Zed continues to watch the door, his mind apparently miles away, until Anderson clears his throat to get his attention. “Yes, Mister Anderson? Is there anything else that I can do for you?” “Not at the moment, thank you,” replies Anderson. “I just wanted to thank you for making a wise decision.” The tone in Anderson’s voice snaps Zenon out of his reverie. “I still don’t care for your attempts to strong arm me, Anderson. I don’t know what kind of people you’re used to dealing with, in whatever the hell you did before you were hired by the SWF, or what you’re doing with an innocent kid like that, but I meant what I said about not giving in to agents. The next time you try a tactic like that, I’m going to have you thrown out on your ass!” Anderson’s eyebrows raise in interest. “Well, Mister Zenon, since you put it that way, I suppose that I’ll have to employ a different tactic. Good day to you, sir.” With that, he turns around and limps outside before Zenon can respond. Zed counts to ten silently before pressing the button on his intercom. “Yes, Mister Zenon?” “Get me David Cross immediately,” says Zenon. “I’ve got to make some last-minute changes to the show.”

“Well Citizens, it’s time for the main event!” the heroic voice of Cyclone Comet booms out of the world’s TV screens as the live feed returns to the Staples Center. “Get ready for a whirlwind of a match, because this is going to get very wild indeed!” “We actually agree for once,” Bobby Riley says in mild surprise. “Of course, this match can only end when either Andrea Montgomery or Toxxic are pinned - so naturally, the Revolution Zero team are going to win.” “Robert, in the words of our insufferable World Champion, ‘Prepare To Be Proved Wrong,” Comet teases. “That’s copyrighted, you masked moron!” Abruptly, the Smarktron whites out as every light in the arena hits ‘full’. For a moment all that can be heard is the faint scritch-scritch of a needle on vinyl. Then: 'WEL-WEL-W-W-WELCOME TO THE REVOLUTION!' “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” The brutal guitars of "Battle Ready" by Otep kicks up immediately, and as the drums come in lightning spears down to touch off red and gold pyros- *BOOOM!!* -that almost obscure the sound stage in smoke! A moment passes as it slowly drifts, then five familiar figures emerge. ‘The Icon‘ Max King, wearing gold tights, carrying his newly-won ICTV belt and looking a little annoyed at coming out to music that isn’t his own, accompanied by Kelly Connelly who is in a gold-thread business suit for this evening. ‘Hollywood’ Spike Jenkins and his tag belt, who even gets a small cheer from his hometown - until he flips the crowd off, that is - along with Jet and, bringing up the rear, the unmistakeable figure of the World Heavyweight Champion. “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a 6-person Captain Fall Elimination Tag Match!” Funyon booms. “Introducing first, at a combined weight of 693lbs... SWF ICTV Champion ‘The Icon’ Max King, one-half of the SWF Tag Team Champions ‘Hollywood’ Spike Jenkins, and the team captain; SWF WORLD... HEAVYWEIGHT... CHAMPION... TOXXXXXX-IIIIIIIIIIIIIIC!!” "TOXXIC SUCKS!” “YOU SCREWED MADDIX!” “TOXXIC SUCKS!" “YOU SCREWED MADDIX!” "These people need to show the champs around here more respect. It takes a lot of skill and determination to become a champion around these parts," Riley protests as the members of Revolution Zero make their way into the ring, the ropes being held open for them by Kelly as they enter. They look around for a while, and as a show of their dominance to further infuriate the crowd, all three men stand in the middle of the ring, holding their respective championship belts high above their head. Suffice it to say, the crowd is NOT cheering at all...until the sounds of "Rush Against The Grain" start to ooze out of the speakers. *BOOOM!!* “YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “And their opponents,” Funyon booms, having retrieved his microphone, “at a total combined weight of 610 pounds; first, the longest-reigning SWF Tag Team Champions OF ALL TIME~, Mike Van Siclen and "The Urban Legend" Todd Cortez... HOLLYWOOD BOULEVARD!” "The former SWF Tag Team Champions are looking for a chance to get revenge on Revolution Zero tonight after that criminal abuse of the rules on Lockdown," Comet begins to explain as Cortez and Siclen both make their way out to a great positive reaction. "The only thing these heroes could be upset about is that the other half of the tag team champions, Sean Davis, isn't in this match right now." "They should be GLAD that Davis isn't in this match." Riley begins to explain. "King has nothing really to hate either member of the opposing team for, so he might just go easy on them. I KNOW that Sean Davis wouldn't be so forgiving though." Mike and Todd make their way down to the ring, slapping hands with the fans as they go but focusing almost completely on the three men awaiting them in the ring. ‘Rush Against The Grain’ fades out and there are a few moments of relative quiet... but then the distinctive, bouncy opening melody of ‘Just A Girl’ by No Doubt kicks up, and the crowd noise increases once more! “DRE-A!” *clap-clap-clap* “DRE-A!” *clap-clap-clap* “And their partner,” Funyon says over the cheers, “and the captain of the team; from Biloxi, Mississippi...ANDREA...MONTGOMERY!” Upon her name being called, the girl with a World Title shot in her immediate future steps out through a shower of sparks, racing down the entrance ramp to join Hollywood Boulevard at the bottom. The trio pause to confer briefly amongst themselves before rushing the ring, all sliding in under the bottom rope and popping straight up to prevent their opponent’s from launching a surprise attack. However, Revolution Zero and Max King hold back and Senior Referee Matthew Kivell starts explaining the rules to all the contestants. "I still don't get what THIS girl did to ever deserve getting a shot at the World Title." Riley complains. "She's nothing more than a mid-card talent who probably gave one of the members of the booking committee a night of pleasure to get the shot." "That's a shameful accusation Robert!" Comet snaps. "Citizen Montgomery earned her shot at Genesis V, and the fans have truly taken her to their hearts! Even Toxxic has acknowledged her worthiness, as he has guaranteed her another title shot after her last one was so abruptly ended!” Riley chuckles a bit. "And just WHO was it that caused the match to end prematurely, I ask you..." "...well, it was one of her partners in this match, Citizen Van Siclen..." “...and who has now jumped into the queue in front of her?” Riley asks, sensing victory. “Citizen Van Siclen again, Robert.” "That's RIGHT. You KNOW that's going to have to come into play at some point or another." Andrea looks ready to take on Toxxic...however the World Champion simply steps out of the ring and onto the apron in his corner. It seems that for his team, King will start things off. After talking a bit, the other team decides to have Cortez start things off. *DING, DING, DING!* As soon as the bell rings, King starts to circle Cortez in ‘classic’ grappler style. Cortez starts to circle with him, not planning on letting King get the upper hand, before the two competitors lock up and struggle to get the upper hand over one another as best they can. Cortez seems like he's going to get the advantage until King flips him over with a modified version of a hip-toss. After Cortez hits the mat, King turns around to look at the crowd a bit, taunting the downed Cortez. "I think King is posing a bit TOO early on in this match, if you ask me." Comet notes. "Well, no one asked you, Comet. So keep your thoughts to yourself." Riley replies as King turns around in the ring to pick up a downed Cortez. Unfortunately for King, Cortez isn't down on the mat when he next turns around, and he gets blasted in the face with a jumping palm strike that connects right onto King's jaw, knocking the new ICTV Champ into the ring ropes. Cortez goes to try and whip King off of the ropes, but King uses his slight edge in body mass to hold on, and whips Cortez hard into the corner, following him in with a clothesline before hitting him with a knife edge chop against the chest that sends a sickening smacking sound through the arena. “WHOO!” King smiles a bit at the sound and the reaction that he got from the crowd, and goes to swing again with the chop. However, this time Cortez is ready for it, ducking down and sliding out of the way of the arm as it swings, then grabbing King's arm from behind and flinging him over with a modified hip-toss of his own. King skids across the ring but Cortez follows him and slaps on an armbar, then reaches over and tags in Van Siclen. The Spectacle kicks King right in the arm, and before the Icon can get back up to his feet Mike leaps up comes down with a splash! ONE! But although the impact has knocked the wind out of Max King he kicks out just after one. "I can't believe the audacity of Van Siclen, thinking that he could take down an amazing competitor like King with something as simple as that." Riley states. "He must be on something REALLY good to think that would have worked out in his favor." "Or, as is more likely, he was trying to catch King off guard, having things get into his team's favor by eliminating King from the match early on." Comet suggests, as Van Siclen brings King up. The Spectacle goes back to his heelish roots by raking King’s eyes before bouncing off the ropes behind the Icon and looks for a bulldog, but King manages to duck down so that Van Siclen doesn't get the grab. As soon as MVS turns around King is there waiting for him, lifting up the former Tag Team Champion and drilling him down onto the mat with a hard powerslam, and this time it is King who stays on for the cover... ONE! TWO! ...but Van Siclen kicks out just after two, and the fans start to rally behind him. “BOU-LE-VARD!” “BOU-LE-VARD!” King just shrugs his shoulders a bit, as if to say that it doesn't really matter to him, before he grabs the arm of MVS and twists it as hard as he can. Pulling the former tag champion over to his team's corner, he reaches with his free hand and tags in one of the CURRENT Tag Team Champions in Spike Jenkins, who drops an elbow into the trapped arm of Van Siclen as soon as he gets into the ring, followed by an open-handed uppercut that staggers the Spectacle back into the corner. "Ah, it warms the heart to see the current tag team champion take out this has-been with such style and panache." Riley states. "I could watch it all day." Spike slaps Van Siclen in the face, then as referee Kivell backs him up and admonishes him Max King takes the opportunity to wrap the tag rope around the neck of MVS and begin to choke him while Toxxic looks dispassionately on. Spike continue his argument with the official, well aware that he is providing a valuable distraction...that is until Andrea Montgomery and Todd Cortez almost trample him in their desire to help their teammate! Matthew Kivell fields them expertly, catching the lighter Drea and ordering her back to her corner before hauling Todd Cortez away and barking the same instructions at him. Meanwhile Spike picks himself up, dusts himself down, glances around to check that Kivell is still occupied and takes a run-up to- *CHING!* -nail the gasping Van Siclen right between the legs! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “That criminal!” Comet splutters. “That fiend! Has he got no respect for the rules, the traditions of this noble sport!?” “No,” Riley answers as Van Siclen falls forward onto his face. “That’s part of the reason why he’s a champion.” Spike grins around at the Staples Centre crowd as faint groans escape the lips of the Spectacle and Matthew Kivell heads over, too late as always to detect the nefarious deeds. Seeing the presence of a ‘Spike’s FanClub!” sign in the middle distance the Straight-Edge Junior flashes a cheesy grin at the two emo girls holding the piece of card aloft before taking hold of Mike’s head and raising the pained Illinois native up to a kneeling position. Van Siclen is still rather unaware of the grander scheme of things as his mind is generally concentrated in the region of his own testicles - nevertheless, he quickly wakes up to his current predicament as Spike’s boot slams into his chest once, twice... Hollywood backs away a step, flashes another grin and then whips his foot towards Van Siclen’s jaw- -but Mike ducks, and pulls Spike over into a schoolboy pin! ONE! TWO! However, the surprise quickly wears off and Spike is able to get out of the pin, then uses his speed advantage to run at Van Siclen when the Spectacle is just getting up from one knee and- *CRACK!* -NAIL him with a Dangerous Wizard! Mike falls facefirst again, and this time Spike rolls him over onto his back to make the cover... ONE! TWO!! ...but Mike kicks out and, obeying Toxxic’s shouted instructions, Spike picks the Spectacle up and hauls him to the Revolution Zero corner where he tags in Max King. “Toxxic appears to be keeping himself out of the match at present,” Comet muses as the Icon steps through the ropes and then buries his boot in the robs of Mike Van Siclen as Spike holds him in a front facelock. “It’s only sensible strategy,” Riley argues. “They can afford to lose Max or Spike, but the moment Toxxic’s pinned the match ends. Why risk getting worn down?” Max King pulls Mike Van Siclen into a standing headscissors and places his hands on his hips to stare jauntily round at the crowd, which rise in unanimous derision for the cocky man from Philly. The Icon reaches down, perhaps to haul Van Siclen up for his patented jumping piledriver... but as he does so Mike powers upwards and lifts King up, grabbing his legs to hold him head-down for a moment before dropping and driving his opponent skull-first into the mat! “YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “Van Slaminator!” Comet cries in delight as Mike scrambles groggily back up to his feet again, looking around to orientate himself on his teammates. “Citizen Van Siclen pulls out a devastating counter, and now he can get someone else into the match!” “Bah!” Riley snorts. “Operation ‘Pound On Mike’ was just getting good!” Van Siclen steps over the recumbent and twitching form of Max King and heads for his corner, but Spike Jenkins steps through the ropes and is hot on his trail. However, Matt Kivell places himself in the way of the junior Straight-Edger and halts his advance, but still manages to turn his head to see Van Siclen tagging in his long-time partner, Todd Cortez! “BOU-LE-VARD!” “BOU-LE-VARD!” Kivell starts to threaten Spike with disqualification if he doesn’t quit the ring, but Hollywood isn’t quite done yet and reaches down to take hold of King and drag him back towards the Revolution Zero corner to aid a tag - but he is stopped in his tracks as Todd Cortez whips his boot into Jenkins’ temple! *CRACK!* “YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Spike rolls across the canvas and out of the ring where Jet goes to check on him, but Kelly and Toxxic are more concerned with the new peril for Max King. Cortez hauls the Icon up, draws his right hand back and- *SMACK!* -drills it into King’s jaw with a Shotei! The impact spins the larger man around and the Urban Legend wraps his arm around Max’s neck before dropping to his knees to deliver the Cereal Killer neckbreaker, causing King to spasm across the ring. Cortez doesn’t let up and follows up by hauling the Icon to his feet again, then heading for the Boulevard corner once more. He reaches out a hand to tag in Andrea Montgomery, then quickly wraps one arm across King’s chest and drives him down to the mat with an STO before rolling away as Andrea vaults easily up to the top rope and comes off with a 630 Senton onto the prone Icon! *WHAM!* “DRE-A!” *clap-clap-clap* “DRE-A!” *clap-clap-clap* “What startling agility from this lovely young lady,” Comet says as Andrea pops up to her feet and salutes the crowd, “and she has even more impressive things up her sleeves! A true mistress of the air and a worthy challenger to Toxxic-” “-just because she’s been known to use the Falling Star Bomb on occasion,” Riley mutters. Max King is clutching his ribs, but Andrea isn’t going to give the biggest man in the match a chance to recover. Instead she grabs a wrist in each hand and tows him laboriously to the middle of the ring, then bounces off the ropes and hits an inch-perfect handspring Phoenix Splash, before hooking the leg for a cover! ONE! TWO!! TH- -but King kicks out, although without the authority that Kelly Connelly would have liked. Andrea doesn’t seem too bothered by it however, and grabs King in a side headlock... “BORT!” the bizarre girl from Biloxi shouts ...before running full-tilt for one of the neutral corners. As she runs up the buckles and dives over the top ropes it looks for a moment like King is going to be able to resist her momentum and drop her with a back suplex instead, but gravity takes its toll on the battered Icon and Andrea guillotines him over the top rope with a bulldog hangman! King bounces off the cables and rolls back across the ring while Drea lands easily on the apron, then turns around ready to springboard back in- *THWACK!* -but Kelly Connelly had snuck around behind her and grabs Drea’s ankle as she goes to take off, causing the girl from Biloxi to lose her footing and smash facefirst into the apron! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” The Staples Center absolutely shits on Max King’s associate as she walks unhurriedly away while Hollywood Boulevard shout abuse from their corner, but Matthew Kivell was checking on Max King following the trauma to his throat and can only look around in puzzlement to see why Andrea is now in a dazed heap on the outside. Meanwhile Spike and Toxxic are calling urgently to Max King, trying to rouse him to crawl the few yards to their corner and make the tag. ‘ONE!’ Kivell shouts, waving a finger at Andrea on the outside. “Will someone get her away from ringside!?” Comet asks angrily as Kelly waves to the LA fans, either completely misinterpreting their jeers or simply enjoying the attention. “That shameless hussy, that so-called ‘associate’, that-” “-Comet, you’re about to use the word ‘Jezebel’, aren’t you?” Riley says. “...no...” Comet protests unconvincingly. “You know what happens when you say that word,” Riley admonishes his partner, pulling a large black Stetson out from under the commentary desk. “I douse you in Barbeque sauce, and you have to wear this!” “Just watch the match, Robert.” ‘TWO!’ Max King pushes himself up, looking around for any sign of Andrea whilst clutching at his throat. Drea’s position on the arena floor is not immediately obvious to the wary ICTV Champion but when he catches Kelly’s eye and the gold-suited manager winks at him he realises he has a few grace seconds, and starts to crawl towards his corner. “Brilliant team communication!” Riley exults. “Just a shame Kelly Connelly shouldn’t actually be in the match, really,” Comet responds acidly. “KELLY SUCKS (MAX!)” “KELLY SUCKS (MAX!)” A minority of the Staples Centre audience puts their own addition on the classic chant of abuse, but if the smile that crosses the pained King’s face is anything to go by it’s not an inaccurate accusation... however, the Icon manages to stretch out a hand and tag in his partner - who happens to be Spike Jenkins. ‘THREE!’ “Toxxic is still staying on the apron!” Comet notes incredulously. “I don’t know what has got into the normally belligerent Straight-Edge Sensation, but he seems quite happy to let his lackeys do the dirty work for him tonight!” Drea has got back up to her feet and climbs back up to the apron in preparation of re-entering the ring; however, Spike is already making a beeline for the Mississippi girl with bad intentions. Andrea is no fool though, and as Hollywood reaches over the top rope for her she ducks down and rams her shoulder into his midsection to double him over, then slingshots herself over his back to hook him for a sunset flip! ONE! TWO!! No! Spike kicks out moments after Kivell’s hand hits the mat for the second time and the Junior Straight-Edger gets quickly back up to his feet - not quick enough to elude Drea however, as the agile girl kips up from the mat straight onto Spike’s shoulders, then hurricanranas him across the ring! “YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Spike clambers to his feet, mildly disorientated, and finds himself face-to-face with Hollywood Boulevard as he has skidded to a halt in his opponents’ corner! The ever-cocky man from Los Angeles starts talking trash at the former tag champions who seem more than happy to return the favour, but Spike is not as dumb as he looks and sees the glance that flashes past his shoulder in time to duck out of the way as Andrea springs on him from behind. Jenkins grins out at his hometown crowd, tapping finger to temple to indicate his smarts... but what he hadn’t anticipated was that Andrea would be able to land harmlessly on the second buckle, and was merely waiting for him to turn around to corkscrew backwards and snare him for a jumping tornado DDT! *BANG!* “DRE-A!” *clap-clap-clap* “DRE-A!” *clap-clap-clap* Drea leans into the cover, hooking Spike’s leg as Kivell dives to count... ONE! TWO!! TH- -but Spike kicks out, and the Revolution Zero corner breathes again! Their relief doesn’t last for long though as Andrea pops straight back up to her feet and, before Spike has even started to peel himself off the canvas, heads for middle of the nearest ringropes and vaults casually to the top before springboarding back off with a Sky Twister Press- *BANG!* -that gets only knees! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Alas!” Comet cries in dismay as Andrea rolls across the ring clutching her ribs, “fair Citizen Montgomery was too eager to take the fight to the villainous Jenkins and paid for it!” “C’mon Spike, knee the bitch in the gut again!” is Riley’s less charitable contribution. Spike hauls himself back to his feet, rubbing his head with one hand but focusing clearly on Andrea as the former Wildcard starts to push herself up. Hollywood slaps his right bicep a couple of times, then backs into the ropes to get some momentum and launches himself across the ring towards his winded target. Andrea sees him coming of course, but with no breath in her lungs it is beyond even her vaunted acrobatic skill to avoid the HOMETOWN-PUMPED-UP-NOW-IT’S-MY-TURN-TO-LAY-THE-SMARKDOWN LARIATOOOOOOOOO~! *BAM!* “Lariat!” Comet gasps. “Spike Jenkins isn’t huge, but that move packs quite a punch when delivered to fellow cruiserweights!” Indeed it does, and Spike knows it. The force of it took him off his feet as well and it is the work of a moment to readjust his position to make the cover... ONE! TWO!! ...but it’s broken up by Todd Cortez with a boot to the head! Spike rolls away from Andrea, but as Matthew Kivell is occupied in herding the recalcitrant Cortez away Jenkins sees his chance and reaches down to perform a blatant choke on Montgomery! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” It only takes a second for Kivell to hear the cries and he quickly turns around to see what has got the LA fans so riled, then immediately starts counting. ‘ONE!’ ‘TWO!’ ‘THREE!’ ‘FOUR!’ Spike doesn’t chance his luck by holding on for the final second - instead he pulls away and grins cheekily up at the SWF’s head official, who gives him a thorough but ultimately useless talking to. Jenkins at first seems quite happy to annoy the referee by grinning impertinently, but after Toxxic’s shouts reach him he opts to haul the groggy Andrea back to her feet and line her up with her back to the Rev-0 corner. Spike backs up a second, then steps forwards and makes a smart rotation as he goes before driving his right elbow into Andrea’s jaw! *CRACK!* “ROOAAARRRRRIIIINNNNGGGG EELLLBBOOOWWWW!” Riley shouts in joy as Andrea is knocked back down once more, “cover her Spike!” Spike does just that - but not before he flips off the increasingly anxious Hollywood Boulevard. He drops to make the pin as Todd Cortez and Mike Van Siclen step through the ropes to the rescue of their captain... ONE! ...but Spike abandons the pin as he is joined by Max King and Toxxic, and the three partners counter-charge the Boulevard to take them down with a triple clothesline! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “No!” Comet shouts. “He wasn’t trying to pin Andrea, they just wanted to sucker Todd and Mike in!” “-and they did it brilliantly!” Riley laughs in delight. Andrea Montgomery is forgotten for the moment as Spike, Toxxic and Max King take their chance to pound on her backup while Matthew Kivell tries ineffectually to remove them from the ring. Well aware that it will only be a few seconds before the referee starts disqualifying people the Revolution Zero team go to work; Toxxic starts a slugfest with Van Siclen to tie him up whilst Spike gets Cortez in a reverse headlock and hoists him up into the air. Max King takes one of the Urban Legend’s legs on each shoulder, then Spike snaps Cortez’s body with the Clean Living as King pushes his legs off his shoulders! *WHAM!* “Assisted Clean Living!” Comet winces as Cortez crashes into the canvas. “That move could remove Todd Cortez from the match right there!” Seeing his longtime partner take such a devastating plunge seems to fire up Mike Van Siclen - the Spectacle blocks a Toxxic right hand and places his skull under the Straight-Edge Sensation’s jaw before sitting out, but immediately rises back to his feet and charges across the ring to floor Max King with a spinning heelkick! “LET’S GO MI-IKE!” “LET’S GO MI-IKE!” Spike squares up to the Spectacle but simply eats a superkick to the jaw instead! Mike bends down to pick him up for more punishment but Matthew Kivell informs him in no uncertain terms that it is him who is now at risk of disqualification, and Van Siclen unwillingly retreats to his own corner and the cold comfort of the tag rope. Meanwhile Kivell briefly checks on the condition of Todd Cortez (who has rolled to the outside) and orders the recovered Toxxic and Max King from the ring and, leaving Andrea Montgomery free to stand up somewhat shakily. The girl from Biloxi has taken several nasty shots to the head but she still knows where she is and what she needs to do, and she sets off unsteadily towards the beckoning hand of Mike Van Siclen. However, she is halted by the clutching hands of Spike Jenkins when he grabs her legs as she walks past and staggers up to his feet, still holding her left leg. Drea measures her grinning opponent for a second then leaps up off her right foot to drive that knee into Spike’s gut, before grabbing his head as the winded straight-edger releases her leg and doubles over, then spins Hollywood to the mat with a snap neckbreaker! “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “DRE-A!” *clap-clap-clap* “DRE-A!” *clap-clap-clap* Andrea sets off again, this time on her hands-and-knees. Meanwhile Spike tries to ignore the pain in his neck and starts to crawl back towards his corner where Max King and Toxxic are reaching out their hands to him. Meanwhile, Matthew Kivell starts his double count-out as neither competitor seems able to get to their feet... ‘ONE!’ ‘TWO!’ Spike wavers for a moment, trying to decide which one of his partners to tag in. ‘THREE!’ Andrea reaches up, stretching towards Mike Van Siclen with everything she has... *smak!* Van Siclen is in. *smak!* And so is Toxxic. “LET’S GO MI-IKE!” The Spectacle charges across the ring, not bothering with anything fancy. The onrushing Toxxic is expecting something suitably sneaky from Van Siclen, so- *WHAM!* -a simple clothesline comes as something of a shock to him. As the crowd starts to roar its support of him Van Siclen continues his charge into the Rev-0 corner where he jumps and spins, delivering the forearm smash of The Answer to a Max King who wished he’d never asked the question and knocking the Icon to the outside! “LET’S GO MI-IKE!” Van Siclen turns around to find Toxxic back on his feet, but simply boots the Straight-Edge Sensation in the gut and grabs him in a front facelock. Even in full flow Mike has time to milk the crowd for a moment, waving at the LA crowd for half a second before bringing his right arm around to drive Toxxic’s face into the mat with the Code Red! *BAM!* “LET’S GO MI-IKE!” Van Siclen laughs as he hears the Staples Centre roaring their support for him, and the man from Illinois hauls the World Champion back to his feet before Irish whipping him into the corner... ...but Toxxic has his own ideas about this, and vaults to the top before diving back at Van Siclen with the flying clothesline known as the Role Reversal! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” For a moment the two men lie on their backs next to each other - then Toxxic coils his legs up under his chin and kips up explosively! “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “Yes!” Riley shouts exultantly (presumably not in response to the crowd’s shouts), “the Straight-Edge Sensation is in the ring and ready for action!” The World Champion takes a second to look over at the Boulevard corner and sees Todd Cortez only just starting to haul his way up onto the apron after the Clean Living he took earlier, while Andrea Montgomery is standing clutching the tag rope looking weary but determined. Confident that Mike Van Siclen doesn’t have all that much in the way of energetic rescuers - but well aware that Spike and Max King aren’t in the best shape themselves - Toxxic decides to try and swing the odds in his team’s favour quickly. He hauls MVS to his feet and hooks him in a reverse headlock, then drops to one knee and drives the other up into the back of Mike’s neck before popping back up and then dropping straight down with an inverted DDT to complete the Detoxx. “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” The straight-edger steps out to the apron and measures the distance between himself and the fallen Spectacle. Satisfied that it is reachable the rookie holds three fingers over his head for a moment, then vaults to the top rope... ...to the top buckle... ...and corkscrews back with the Hangover... *BAM!* ...but it misses as Mike rolls aside, and Toxxic lands hard on his hip! “YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “LET’S GO MI-IKE!” “LET’S GO MI-IKE!” Seeing a chance to end this right now, Van Siclen scrambles on top of the Straight-Edge Sensation and hooks the leg... ONE! TWO!! ...but Toxxic kicks out, much to the disappointment of everyone in the Staples Center! Mike drags Toxxic up to his feet and lines up a forearm shot, but Toxxic hasn’t taken that much of a battering yet and ducks it, then quickly adjusts his feet and as Van Siclen turns around- *SMACK!* -he lands a superkick right on the Spectacle’s jaw! Van Siclen falls backwards, and seeking a moment to get his head together Toxxic takes the three steps to his corner and tags in Spike Jenkins. The man from Hollywood steps through the ropes and pats his right bicep again, lining up on Van Siclen as Mike starts to stand back up, then charges across the ring to deliver a HA-HA-HA-WHO’S-TAG-CHAMPIONS-NOW-YOU-BITCH LARIATOOOOOOO... ...but Mike ducks, and as Spike tries to kill his momentum and turns in search of his opponent Van Siclen boots him in the gut then quickly hoists him up from a vertical headscissors, steps over each of Spike’s arms and drops... *CRUNCH!* “YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “RIOT ACT!” Comet bellows as Spike’s head is unceremoniously introduced to the canvas. The whole duck-and-reversal sequence happened so fast that neither Toxxic nor Max King seemed to have any concept of stopping what was going on; that all changes as Matthew Kivell drops to make the count on Spike... ONE! Max and Toxxic step through the ropes, ready to come to Spike’s rescue... TWO!! ...but this time, it is Andrea and Todd who come counter-charging across, and Mike keeps the pin applied. THHHRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! *DING-DING-DING!* “Ladies and gentlemen, Spike Jenkins has been ELIMINATED~!” Funyon booms as Andrea takes Toxxic down with a leg lariat while Todd Cortez nails a regular lariat on Max King. “YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “First blood to the forces of JUSTICE~!” Comet proclaims grandly as Mike Van Siclen kicks Spike out under the bottom rope to the floor, “and now it’s three-on-two against the World and ICTV Champions!” Matthew Kivell is trying to determine which one out of Toxxic and Max King is ready to be the next legal competitor, but the answer seems to be ‘neither’ as Hollywood Boulevard and Drea start to get some revenge for their earlier beating. However, Andrea and Mike launch Toxxic out of the ring so Kivell decides that for simplicity’s sake it will be the Icon, and sets about removing Montgomery and Cortez from the ring. Unfortunately for the fan favourites this gives Max King the chance to do what he does best; fall to his knees and- *CHING!* “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Van Siclen drops to his own knees as the impact of his second ballshot of the match zigzags through his body. Triumphant, Max King climbs back to a vertical base and grabs Van Siclen’s hair - but Mike isn’t above a few ball sports himself. *CHING!* “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “The double standards of the spectators in this sport sicken me...” Riley mutters with his head in his hands as Max King falls backwards clutching his groin, while Kelly Connelly looks on white-faced from ringside. Matthew Kivell has now finished herding Cortez and Drea from the ring and turns around to find both competitors in some severe pain; however, Mike struggles up to a semi-vertical base and wobbles over to his corner, where he tags in Todd Cortez. The Urban Legend steps through the ropes, ready to give Max King a lesson in why not to cross the Boulevard, but Kivell holds him off for a second to check on King’s condition. Cortez is in no mood to be baulked however, and the former tag champ grabs the Icon roughly by the head and lifts him off the canvas. He goes to whip King into the cables but Max manages to stop his own momentum and reverses the move to send Todd in instead, then clutches at Kivell for support on his wobbly legs... however, his unsteadiness might not be entirely genuine as- *WHAM!* -Kelly Connelly nails Cortez in the back with the ICTV Title as he bounces off the ropes while the referee is entangled with King! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “SLUT! SLUT! SLUT! SLUT!” Kelly looks genuinely hurt at the abuse raining down from the Staples Center crowd, but Max King isn’t interested in defending his manager’s honour at the moment - instead he twists Cortez sharply around and hooks him in a reverse DDT position before hooking the Urban Legend’s leg and dropping to one knee, driving the other into Cortez’ back and locking in the Compressor! Mike Van Siclen and Andrea look on aghast from the apron, unsure what to do, but before they can decide on a course of action Todd Cortez taps desperately on the canvas! *DING-DING-DING!* “Ladies and gentlemen, Todd Cortez has been ELIMINATED~!” Funyon bellows while the atmosphere in the Staples Center grows considerably more hostile. “That’s outrageous!” Comet yells. “Of course he’s going to tap to a back-based submission if he’s been hit with a large metal belt there moments previously!” “I know,” Riley says smugly. “Genius, isn’t it?” King releases his hold on the pained Cortez and straightens up, ready (or at least, pretending to be ready) to take on whichever one of Van Siclen or Andrea steps through the ropes next. However, before a decision is made Toxxic hurtles across the ring past the Icon and launches himself over the ropes, taking Van Siclen off the apron and to the ring floor! With no other options immediately presenting themselves Andrea steps through and squares up to the ICTV Champion. “What on earth is Toxxic doing?” Comet asks incredulously as the cameras cut briefly to where the Straight-Edge Sensation and Mike Van Siclen crashed out to the floor. Neither man is moving much, but Toxxic seems to have landed on top and be in slightly better condition. “Making sure,” Riley says. “He guaranteed Andrea Montgomery had to step into the ring, and now the opposing team’s captain can be pinned to end the match, while he is still safe!” King steps in, wary of the speed of the former Wildcard but determined to end this match as soon as possible. However, despite the beating she took earlier Andrea slips away from his clumsy attempt to grab her and as he turns smashes a forearm into his jaw, then another, then a right hand, then a left hand, then springs up and nails the Icon with a beautiful Dropsault! “YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “DRE-A!” *clap-clap-clap* “DRE-A!” *clap-clap-clap* Andrea scrambles forwards to cover Max King and Kivell drops to make the count... ONE! TWO!! THHHRR- -but King kicks out, and dismay crosses Drea’s face for a second. Nevertheless, the icon is now in a good position for her to try and finish him off and she steps out to the apron, then seizes the top rope in preparation to spring up and hit her Springboard 450 Splash... ...but yet again a hand grabs her ankle, and she looks down to see Toxxic staring up at her through dark-lined eyes. Andrea lashes out with her other foot and catches the Straight-Edge Sensation in the jaw, then turns back to the ring - but now King is up and he smashes her in the face with a forearm, then climbs to the second rope in front of her and grabs a front facelock! “What on earth is Citizen King doing here?” Comet asks incredulously. “Improvising, like a true champion,” Riley answers. Andrea Montgomery is a light girl, and although he has to strain for it Max King is able to lift her up off the apron even from the second rope, then fall back into the ring and land on top of her with a modified Superbplex! ONE! TWO!! THRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE... ...NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! “YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “DRE-A!” *clap-clap-clap* “DRE-A!” *clap-clap-clap* Max King rolls off Andrea, almost totally exhausted. Instinctively he turns for his corner... and there, reaching out one black-nailed hand and clutching his jaw with the other, is Toxxic. The World Champion made it back to pick up the tag, and now all Max King has to do is get there. He spent most of his remaining energy on that Superbplex, and he has to crawl now. Meanwhile Drea tries to catch her breath and make for her own corner, whether or not Mike Van Siclen is there to greet her. ‘ONE!’ ‘TWO!’ ‘THREE!’ Max King reaches up, almost able to touch his captain’s hand. ‘FOUR!’ Andrea turns around and reaches out... and there is no Mike Van Siclen. The Spectacle is stirring, but still down on the outside. *smak!* And now, Toxxic is in the ring. “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” The Straight-Edge Sensation is easily the freshest competitor left, largely due to his initial reluctance to enter the contest. Drea hauls herself up and readies for Toxxic’s charge, knowing that everything might count on this. She waits for the right moment, then as Toxxic closes she suddenly leaps into the air, bunches her legs and grabs Toxxic’s shoulders before flipping backwards and taking the World Champion over with a monkey flip... *whump* ...but Toxxic is agile enough in his own right, and the Brit flips straight through the move and lands on his feet! Andrea pops back up to her feet and turns to face him, but- *WHAM!* -is only greeted by a European uppercut! She staggers back and Toxxic whips her into the ropes, and it is there that Max King plants a knee into her back and causes her to stagger forwards. “It’s a mugging!” Comet yells. “It’s a thing of beauty!” Riley protests. Off-balance, Andrea can do nothing to evade the soccer tackle that slices into her shins and takes her off her feet. She does her best to fight against Toxxic’s grip as the straight-edger hoists her up to a vertical base once more, but close-in Toxxic’s strength advantage tells and she hasn’t got the energy left to squirm away. She is forced down into a standing headscissors... then Toxxic hooks first one arm, then the other up behind her back. “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” Toxxic braces himself, then brings the girl from Biloxi UP... ...AROUND... ...AND... ...DOWN. *WHAM!* “TOXXIC SHOCK SYNDROME!” Riley bawls as Toxxic rolls Drea over and hooks the leg. “Say goodnight, Los Angeles!” ONE! Mike Van Siclen hears the impact, and struggles up to his feet to see what is going on. TWO!! His view is abruptly blotted out by a pair of boots as Max King baseball slides through the ropes and boots Van Siclen in the head. THHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! *DING-DING-DING!* “Ladies and gentlemen, here are your winners,” Funyon announces as the crashing opening chord of ‘Rookie’ fills the Staples Center, “the team of ‘Hollywood’ Spike Jenkins, ‘The Icon’ Max King and TOXXXXXX-IIIIIIIIC!!” “An absolute travesty!” Comet yells in anger. “Cheating, low-blows and beltshots do not a victory make!” “That’s where you’re wrong,” Riley laughs, “and I can’t wait to see Mike Van Siclen’s career come to an end on Storm! Comet, the Revolution is just beginning!” Toxxic, Jet, Kelly and Max have started to make their way up the ramp to where Spike awaits them in the back. However, the Straight-Edge Sensation can’t help but look back at the ring. Mike Van Siclen stands there... and his gaze burns right into the man from Nottingham. A Storm is brewing. FADE OUT Copyright SWF 2004 ‘Making the Panda happy since 2000’

The crowd, quite large. Noise, a lot. The place, Los Angeles as a bevy of SWF fans make their voices heard as we come back from commercial. Along with the crowd is the dynamic duo at ringside, “Welcome back to SMARKDOWN! It is I, Cyclone Comet back here for the last two matches of this big time card, along with as always, the Bucky to my Captain America…Bobby Riley!” “Bucky? Bucky? Why’d you have to pick the dead one Comet?” asks Riley as the crowd continues to make noise as Funyon gets in the ring. “Would you rather be my ward?” Comet replies sarcastically. “See, that’s just wrong. I will be nobodies sidekick!” “Except for Citizen Flesher. Anyway, it is time for a semi main event, let’s go to Funyon in the ring.” Funyon begins with his trademark voice, “The following match is scheduled for one fall with a sixty minute time limit. The referee is Anthony Michael Hall -” Traditional booing for the ref. “ - and the match is for the USJL CHAAAAAAMPIONSHIP!” Title match cheer from the assembled crowd. “Introducing first, the challenger…” Suddenly, the speakers of the Staples Center squeal, and “Tearing Everybody Down” by Anti-Flag kicks up. The crowd begins to boo as bursts of red pyro flares from the sides of the entranceway, and a torrential downpour of the red pyro cascades down from the SmarkTron and blankets the front entrance ramp while the crowd continues to boo. “…from Newark, New Jersey, standing at a weight of 275 pounds….DANNY DAAAAAGDA!” Dagda comes out from the entrance curtain with a swagger, flipping off the crowd as they boo him before heading to the ring, yelling various insults as the crowd as he makes his way to the ring. Finally, he slides in, does a little crotch chop as the SWF lawyers leave a message on Dagda’s cell phone and the crowd continues not to like Dagda at all…. “Citizen Dagda not endearing himself to the SWF crowd at all, especially after what happened previously on Lockdown between him and his opponent,” says Comet as Dagda continues to taunt the crowd. “Danny doesn’t need the fans, he has his talent, and soon the USJL title,” replies Riley. “His opponent…” Lights go black. Crowd rises and a few lighters are seen as the creepy beginning to ‘Back on Earth’ starts up while a series of highlights from The Fallen Angel’s short career in the SWF start up. A spotlight shines on the entranceway as Ozzy’s voice kicks in and out walks Cross, title belt on his shoulder as the crowd roars it approval while the white pyro goes off. “…at a weight of 277 pounds, from Oil City, Pennsylvania, the reigning and Two-Time USJL Champion…”THE FAAAALLEN ANGEL” DAAAAVID CROSS!” Cross walks to the ring with a purpose, ignoring the cheering crowd and the outstretched hands as he makes his way to the ring. Dagda of course shouts a few choice comments as Cross looks toward him with his usual stone-like expression. “Citizen Cross of course, was beaten by Danny Dagda in the three-way last blood match thanks to what some would say was a lucky shot,” says Comet as Cross gets in the ring. “Lucky shot or no, Dagda beat Cross and he’s earned this shot -” “- and the wrath of one Fallen Angel.” “Bah, I’ve seen no wrath from this punk since he’s been here.” “Do the words, “Top Rope German Suplex” mean anything to you, Bobb-o?” “OK, you have a point there,” replies Riley. “Doesn’t mean Cross will win though.” Cross slips off his jacket and kisses his cross before taking it off. As Cross hands those two defining things of The Fallen Angel to the ring attendant, Danny takes the moment to Pearl Harbor Cross! As the crowd boos the cocky youngster, he pounds Cross from behind with forearms and kicks to knock the champion down! DING! DING! DING! “Simply disgusting,” Comet says as Dagda simply flips off Hall as he delivers a few more kicks to David’s sternum. “There was no good reason for Citizen Dagda to attack the champion before the bell rang.” “Of course there was,” replies Riley. “To get an advantage, you costumed freak.” “I said good reason, Robert.” “Winning isn’t a good reason?” “Not when it takes treachery and evil!” “You say evil, I say good job.” Dagda pulls Cross up via his cranium and delivers a quick kick to the gut. The big challenger then hiptosses Cross back to the ground, before following things up with a quick knee drop again to the breadbasket of the Fallen Angel. Dagda rises and does a little strut, before pulling Cross up to his feet again and locking on a headlock. After a moment of locking the hold on, Dagda runs into the center of the mat, jumps and plants Cross with a… “…bulldog by Citizen Dagda!” yells Comet as the crowd continues to boo Danny. “Danny has truly taken advantage of his nefarious attack earlier in the match.” “By any means possible,” replies Riley. “After all, Dagda doesn’t want to dole out justice or whatever triple Cross spews. He just wants to win.” “I’d take the so-called tripe Citizen Cross spews over the trash spoken by a large portion of the men you back, Riley.” “Again, you say trash. I say oratorical masterpieces.” Dagda waits for Cross to get up as he yells at the crowd, waiting for the Fallen Angel to return to his feet. As he does, Dagda strikes with a super kick from the corner, stunning David as he stumbles back. The challenger then follows that up by backing up and charging, sending Cross down to the mat with a big spear! Dagda still has the cocky smirk on his face as he grabs a far leg and goes for the cover… …ONE… …TW - KICKOUT! “Citizen Cross just showed he has not yet begun to fight,” says Comet with delight as the crowd cheers while Dagda shares a few words with the referee. “I think Citizen Dagda may be underestimating the USJL champion. Just as he did last week.” “Cross may have gotten some shots in last week,” replies Riley. “But Dagda still beat him and that is all that matters.” “Of course, you don’t note that Christian Fury then defeated Dagda.” “Lucky break for an old-timer.” Cross again rises to his feet, only to get drilled by a big kick in the stomach, and taken to the mat again with a nasty DDT! Dagda then continues the onslaught by driving a knee into The Fallen Angel’s neck as the crowd continues to boo the New Jersey native. Dagda has some choice words for the LA crowd, something to the effect of you’re all whores, then walks over to Cross again as he attempts to get up and nails him with a simple boot to the head. Cross falls to the mat again, and Dagda has a few more words for the crowd. “Cross seems to be having a bit of a problem getting up,” says a bemused Riley as Dagda does a quick lap around the ring doing crotch chops. “It’s just so wonderful.” “Citizen Cross may seem down and out, but I do think he has much fight left in him.” “He’s been active too many shows in a row. He’s broken down a bit. “He’s had to be active because he is a fighting champion, vanquishing evil!” “Thankfully for him, Dagda will so happily relieve him of that title he has had to bear.” “I doubt Cross will simply let that happen.” As our dynamic duo continues to bicker, Dagda again walks over to Cross and pulls him up, before nailing him with a quick right hand to earn him more boos and a look from Hall. With a shrug as he moves to the corner Cross has fallen back into and… *SLAP* “WHOO!” *SLAP* “WHOO!” *SLAP* “WHOO!” *SLAP* “WHOO!” …Dagda fires a series of chops right into the champions chest as the fans continue to boo Dagda’s dominance and the strut he begins before going back to Cross and pulling Cross out, locking David’s arm in position, and picking him back before sending The Fallen Angel back to the mat with a big… “…HEAD AND ARM SUPLEX BY DAGDA!” screams Comet as Dagda non chalantly goes for the cover while Hall drops down to count… …ONE… …TWO… …KICKOUT! “Citizen Cross still strong despite taking a heavy beating early in the contest,” says Comet as again, Dagda has unkind words for Hall. “However, the champion of justice has continued to struggle on despite being blindsided by Citizen Dagda.” “Jeez, you make Hannity look non-partisan,” cracks Riley. “Also Comet, it’s Cross has taken a heavy beaten for the whole contest! Has the big goof even gotten a single move in yet this match?” “Not yet, but there is much battle yet to be had, Robert.” “Probably not, if Cross keeps on getting slapped around like he’s Tina Turner.” “ROBERT!” As Comet expresses his horror, Dagda pulls up Cross and sends him into the corner…hard! The fans boo, a little quieter now as their hero has been dominated thoroughly early in this match. Dagda stalks to the corner again, drilling Cross again with a big forearm and a comment to go with it that the camera picks up. “You’re worthless!” Dagda rears back and nails Cross with another move, this time a big left hand and yes, another comment. “I’ve beaten punching bags that gave more of a fight!” The challenger delivers a quick kick to the gut, then an elbow to the forehead before adding in his subtle wit again as Cross slumps down to the mat! “See that you idiots, your hero is on his knees, like your girlfriends are with me!” More boos as Dagda picks up Cross, steadies him on his feet, then rears back and…BITCHSMACK as he gets in his final dig. “After this Davey, I might find your mama’s grave and skullfuck her like I am you!” While the crowd boos, Dagda does a little strut and dance as the boos suddenly turn to cheers. Dagda turns around and does a McMahon-like gulp as he sees Cross standing again, seemingly back at one hundred percent as The Fallen Angel charges him! “Comet,” begins Riley. “Can you make a small mental note for me.” “What?” “Never insult the big goof’s mama. It really pisses him off.” “Taken and in the database, right next to the ‘no Chip ‘n’ Dale’ references by Janus.” Dagda shocked, tries to fire a right hand, but it’s quickly blocked and Dagda is nailed by a huge forearm from the Fallen Angel! Dagda tries to fire back, only to get nailed by another huge forearm which sends him backpedaling, trying to escape. Cross delivers another huge forearm, then finishes things off by a huge boot into Dagda’s face, sending him through the ropes as the crowd comes alive for The Fallen Angel! “What were you saying about Citizen Cross being finished?” says Comet as Dagda holds his torso in pain as he is laid out on the floor. “Something about complete and utter domination.” “Well, the kid is a rookie,” replies Riley. “So, he makes rookie mistakes. Like making fun of David’s family. Not the best idea, but he can easily recover and win the match. The goof’s little adrenaline rush will end soon and Danny can take back over.” “You seem so confident,” notes Comet. “Comet, remember how many guys I pissed off when I wrestled?” “Hmm…you have a point,” replies Comet. “You do have a way with escaping with your life after insulting large, scary men.” Cross rolls out of the ring as the crowd continues to cheer like mad as Dagda tries to get up. The Fallen Angel helps Danny, by pulling him to his feet then drilling him with a huge kick to the solar plexus! Dagda keels over, and The Fallen Angel continues by sending his right knee directly into Dagda’s skull, causing his head to snap back upwards. Cross finishes off the combo by twisting his left leg around with a CRESCENT KICK right into the challengers temple, sending him crashing to the floor with a thud! As the crowd cheers loudly, The Fallen Angel simply stares down with that same stone-like expression as he raises his fist to the capacity crowd at the Stapes Center. “Again, why does Cross continue to act like this is PRIDE,” says Riley. “This is wrestling, dammit!” “So, Citizen Dagda wants to slap Cross around, attack him from behind, and generally be slimy, but Cross executes actual moves and you want him drawn and quartered?” asks Comet. “Is that correct?” “You say it like that and you try to act like it’s wrong or something, Comet.” “Perhaps, because it is?” “Nonsense.” Cross then picks up Dagda by his stringy black hair and flings him into the guardrail with a rattle to the cheers as David then follows that up with a huge boot to the face of Dagda who falls to the floor again, beaten and bruised. The champion picks up Dagda again and drills him with a big forearm before setting him up and whipping him straight into the ring post to the roar of the crowd! Dagda is again on the unforgiving concrete floor, looking up at the lights as the crowd cheers for The Fallen Angel. “Citizen Cross has really turned it on outside of the ring and has beaten Dagda from pillar to post…literally,” says Comet as Cross rolls his opponent back in the ring. “Dagda can come back easily,” replies Riley. “Cross is hurting, he just isn’t showing that as of yet.” “I think Citizen Cross is not one to show pain or fear,” says Comet. “He is a true warrior for justice.” “Well, that warrior is going to lose pretty damn soon,” replies Riley. “Cross can’t keep the adrenaline flowing for the whole match, he’ll eventually run out and the long beat down earlier will catch up with him.” “We shall see, Robert. We shall see.” Cross gets in the ring himself and picks up Dagda again. After peppering the challenger with a few quick forearms, the champion kicks Dagda in the gut and locks him in a front chancery. Cross then pulls up Dagda into vertical suplex position and then after a moment to let the blood to rush to the head, Cross dropped sending Dagda's head and neck crashing into the mat with a… “BRAINBUSTER BY CITIZEN CROSS!” screams Comet as The Fallen Angel hooks a leg and Hall goes down to count… …ONE… …TWO… …THR - SHOULDER UP! “Citizen Dagda still fighting off this onslaught by the reigning USJL champion,” Comet says as the crowd cheers Cross on. “How many moves like that brain buster can he take though?” “More than Cross can,” replies Riley. “The big goof may have the advantage now, but it won’t be long until Dagda hits one big move and boom ,we have a new champion.” “I think Citizen Cross has more than that in his reserve,” notes Comet. “After all, he did defeat Citizen Lezaire in the Canadian Death Match at Genesis V.” “Luck. Simple, dumb luck.” Cross gets back to his feet as Dagda struggle to get up. The champion pulls the New Jersey native up, then nails Dagda with a simple knee to the gut, then puts him in position, as Cross puts one hand under the keeled over Danny, then pulls him up and over before sending him back to the mat with a huge gutwrench suplex! The crowd really comes alive as Cross doesn’t wait a moment, merely picking up Dagda before he can even start to recover and puts on a waistlock as the crowd buzzes. The crowd roars as Cross picks up Dagda and sends him backward, crushing his neck into the mat with a vicious… “…GERMAN SUPLEX BY THE CHAMPION!” yells Comet as Cross lets go letting the crowd roar as the USJL champ does the throat-slitting motion. “Dagda, wake up!” yells Riley as well as Cross stalks over to his opponent. As the crowd continues to cheer, Cross puts Dagda in the standing head scissors position as the crowd goes mad. The Fallen Angel then pulls up Dagda all the way up, only at the apex… “He lost his grip,” exclaims Comet as Cross drops Dagda to the mat and holds his back. “I told you so,” says a smug Riley as Dagda gets back to his feet, a bit unaware of his current situation. “Cross tried to do too much, and the beating he took earlier is catching back up with him!” “You make that sound like such a glorious thing,” replies Comet. “Citizen Cross has fought valiantly today.” “Well, now he’s going to valiantly see the lights as the referee counts to three.” Dagda sees Cross and with a glint in his eye, nails Cross with a quick kick to the gut and then takes him down to the mat with a SINGLE ARM DDT as the crowd lustily boos the challenger! Dagda gets back up to his feet, using the ropes to help and with a small smirk on his face, delivers a number of stomps right into The Fallen Angel’s sternum and torso before Hall finally pushes him away. To celebrate, Dagda flips off the crowd who of course return the gesture in kind. “I think Citizen Dagda believes he is about to become a champion here in the SWF,” says Comet. “Well, Cross is down and out and he’s standing,” replies Riley. “Not exactly a huge stretch of the imagination.” “Still, I think Citizen Cross has not yet stopped his fight,” says Comet. “He never gives up.” “That’s a nice fairy tale, but Cross is no Superman,” Riley says. “He’ll fall just like everyone else.” “But he hasn’t fallen yet tonight,” says Comet. “This warrior of justice still has a lot of fight left in him.” Dagda pulls up Cross, before kicking him in the gut and as the crowd boos him, the challenger picks up Cross and with a mighty flourish sends Cross up and over his shoulder and he falls back with a FALLAWAY SLAM! The crowd voices it disapproval as Dagda gets up and does a mock bow, before advancing on Cross again who is using the ropes to get back to his feet. As Danny advances, Cross attempts to throw a quick forearm, but Dagda blocks it, then drills Cross with a knee to the midsection! The challenger then grabs the challenger’s far arm, and gets in position, before throwing Cross backwards again into the mat with a nasty HEAD AND ARM SUPLEX! “That could not have felt good,” muses Riley as Cross is laid out and Dagda does a little pose. “No matter, it’s not like the goof has much in his head anyway.” “Citizen Cross may not look it, but he’s an intelligent man Riley,” replies Comet. “Also, I think the challenger tonight is getting a bit too cocky for his own good.” “For his own good?” “Yes, I just said that, Robert.” “He just threw Cross around like he was a cruiserweight for Christ sakes,” replies Riley. “He has a right to be a bit on the cocky side at this exact moment.” “True, but even on his knees, Citizen Cross is still a dangerous competitior.” “Dagda standing is more dangerous than Cross laid out though.” Dagda delivers a few kicks to the neck and shoulder of Cross as he is face-first on the mat, before doing another little strut and pose to the boos of the LA crowd. Dagda again flips them off before throwing a quick kick to the gut as Cross attempt to stand! Danny then pulls Cross up and extends his far arm, nailing Cross with a big lariat knocking the champion back to the mat! “See what I told you about being more dangerous,” asks Riley as Dagda pulls Cross up again. “Cross is a tough, tough man,” replies Comet. “Even tough men eventually fall Cyclone.” Dagda picks up Cross again this time locking on a full nelson as the crowd continues to boo him lustily. With a smirk, the challenger locks in the hold on the big man from Oil City before again picking him off the crowd and sending him toward that mat with a crash, compacting The Fallen Angel’s neck even more as Dagda delivers the… “…FULL NELSON FETISH BY DAGDA!” screams Cyclone as Dagda raises his arms to the hostile crowd. “I told you, Comet.” notes Riley. “The goof is finished.” “Heroes never give up,” replies Comet. “The Fallen Angel is a true hero and defender of justice.” “He’s also a soon to be ex-champion.” Dagda does a little shimmy, as he drags Cross more towards the middle of the ring, then heads toward the corner. As the crowd buzzes and boos, Dagda climbs the turnbuckle yelling, “It’s over, bitches” as he climbs the ropes. At the top, Dagda waits a moment, before jumping off the top, jackknifing himself with a huge FROG SPLASH only… “…CROSS GOT HIS KNEES UP!” screams an exuberant Comet as the crowd roars and both men are down on the mat, Cross grabbing for the ropes and Dagda grabbing his ribs. “Come on,” replies Riley. “That wasn’t fair!” “How was that not fair?” “Cross moved,” notes Riley. “Of course he did, that’s how he didn’t get flattened by that frog splash. He got his knees up and blocked the move.” “Exactly. Not fair. He should’ve taken his lickings and lost, like a good goofball.” “You’re impossible, Robert.” “I would hope so.” As the crowd comes alive again, Cross gets to his feet and grabs Dagda by his neck. He picks up the New Jersey native and delivers a sharp kick to the gut, then grabs Dagda with a headlock, takes a few steps and sends Danny to the mat with a JUMPING BULLDOG! Only taking a moment to rest, Cross gets right back up and pulls up his challenger, putting him in a front chancery, then pulling him up and over with a huge, vicious EXPLODER SUPLEX to the roars of the Los Angeles crowd! “Citizen Cross just delivered a huge amount of justice to his challenger,” says Comet as Cross gets back up. “Just a momentary lapse,” replies Riley. “Dagda will have control back in his hands in no time.” “Citizen Dagda should perhaps hurry, for his own sake. Before Citizen Cross further beats him down.” “Oh, and I’m the biased one.” “I tell the truth, Robert. You just say deceptions, lies, and vaguely stalker-ish things, at least when Flesher is around.” “HEY!” As the 500,000th Flesher-Riley joke is told, Cross pulls up Dagda and grabs his waist from the front and holds Dagda for a minute, before picking the nearly three hundred pound hoss and sending him into the mat with a crash thanks to a big Belly to Belly Suplex! As the crowd makes sound of approval and cheering, Cross picks up Dagda and grabs the challengers throat while the crowd buzzes. Cross goes to pick up Dagda and begin to finish him off, but desperately Dagda nails Cross with a… “…LOW BLOW!” screams Comet as Cross lets go of Dagda thanks to the pain. “The Tear Down, fool!” says Riley. “See, I told you.” “So again, you back treachery instead of skill.” “Are you surprised for some off reason, Comet?” “Unfortunately, not.” As the crowd boos Dagda like mad, he delivers a quick kick to the gut then takes Cross down with a DOUBLE ARM DDT! To finish things off, he then picks Cross up, grabs him by the throat, and with a smirk, picks him up and sends him back down to the mat with a sloppy, but effective CHOKE SLAM! “It may not have been pretty,” begins Riley as the crowd boos Dagda as the challenger does a little strut and pose. “But Dagda just took over the match right there.” “Do not doubt the will of this champion, Robert.” “I think I might. Just a little.” “Ask Ace Lezaire about The Fallen Angel, Riley. See what he tells you.” “I would but he punked out of here like a bitch. It’s time for the new school, like Dagda to dominate. Time to throw Cross out with the trash1” “You’re disgusting, Robert.” “Thank you.” While the crowd boos, Dagda picks Cross up into a torture rack position, but Cross slides out of the hold as the crowd cheers, and Dagda turns around, only to get nailed by a Cross forearm from the standing champion! Cross delivers one forearm, then another as Dagda stumbles back. Danny throws a wild right hand, but Cross ducks, spins the challenger around, then picks him up by the legs before sending him crashing to the mat with a… “…SPINEBUSTER!” screams Comet as the crowd roars. “Citizen Cross just avoided certain defeat from Dagda’s Deflation and took the momentum of the match back!” “Bah, just a small blip before Dagda wins the title,” replies Riley. “This is all part of a plan.” “What, a plan to fall like the nefarious evildoer he is?” “Comet, repeat after me. I. Am. Not. In. A. Silver. Age. Comic.” “You’re just scared of a true defender of justice such as The Fallen Angel, Robert.” “No, I just don’t want a big goof like Cross to hold the title.” “As I said, scared.” “Bah.” Cross goes to the near corner and waits, crouched down as the crowd buzzes. Dagda gets to his knees, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs to stand, only to turn around and see Cross exploding from the corner with a… “…YAAAAAAZUUUUUUKA~!” screams Comet as the crowd roars it approval. “Citizen Cross just nailed his challenger with that manuever.” “Are you sure that isn’t illegal?” “He’s done that move every match so far since he’s been in the SWF Robert,” replies Comet. “I think someone would’ve said something by now if it was.” “Bah, can’t Suicide King rule it illegal and take his wins away retroactively or something like that?” “I don’t think King wants a lawsuit.” “True, but he has such great lawyers. It’s like having a military and not using them.” “Peaceniks can contact Robert and SWF Corporate Office…” “Hey, hey, hey, I don’t need any hippies clogging up my mail.” “Got to keep it clear for the Flesher issue of GQ?” “There’s going to - hey!” Comet simply chuckles as Riley fumes a little. While the dynamic duo have continued to fight, Cross pulls an out of it Dagda up by his head and pulls him straight into a big-time SHORT ARM LARIATO~ as the crowd roars, knowing what is to come next. Cross simply raises his fist to the cheering crowd. “This would be a good time for Citizen Dagda to make a comeback,” says Comet. “Or to make any sort of defensive manuever to avoid being beaten.” “You think I don’t know that Comet,” replies Riley. “Come on Danny, beat the goof!” “I don’t think he can hear you, Bobb-o.” “Don’t worry about it, Comet. Dagda will block this, kick The Fallen Angel’s ass, and we can all go home happy.” “I doubt Cross would leave happy if he lose to a scoundrel like Dagda.” “Well, he doesn’t count.” “He’d beg to differ,” replies Comet. “Also, it looks like he’s about to finish off his challenger.” “Danny, wake up! You’re about to be destroyed by this goof!” “Here we go again,” says Comet as the crowd cheers like mad. Cross kicks Dagda in the gut and puts him in the standing head scissors and then pulls him up high in the air as the crowd roars… ““Danny Dagda is about to become part of a…” …lets him stay at the apex for a moment, then Cross grabs him and sends him back to the mat with the… “…BLACK MASS~!” Hall drops down to the count as the crowd counts along… …ONE… …TWO… …THREE! DING! DING! DING! “The winner of the match…” begins Funyon as the crowd cheers. Cross rises to his feet to the cheering audience as he raises his fist while ‘Back on Earth’ begins. “…and STILL USJL CHAMPION, “THE FAAAALLEN ANGEL” DAAAAAAVID CROSS!” Cross is handed the title, the champion puts it over his shoulder than salutes the crowd before looking at the fallen body of Dagda. With a simple grim look, Cross turns away and heads back to the locker rooms, absent-mindedly slapping hands as he does. Back in the ring, Dagda simply shakes his head and flips off the referee. “We’ll be right back after these messages with more SMARKDOWN~ brought to you by Frost Brand Chips and Pepsi Max!”

“Right. Is everyone clear what we’re doing?” Toxxic stands in the corner of the Revolution Zero dressing room and looks around at the assembled ‘troops’. Sean Davis is away getting patched up after his Hardcore match, but Spike Jenkins is sitting watching some footage, presumably of their opponents later tonight, whilst Max King is looking slightly uncomfortable in the unfamiliar surroundings but still proudly clutching his ICTV belt. Meanwhile Kelly Connelly is standing next to him looking like a wet dream on legs, while Toxxic’s girlfriend Jet is standing next to her looking like... well, like a nutter with dreadlocks. “We’ve got a dilemma,” Toxxic continues. “Despite the fact this is elimination, if I get pinned we’ve automatically lost. “So although I’m -arguably- the best wrestler on our team, I can’t take too many risks.” Toxxic’s face twists up at that as he looks around at the other two members of his team. “Remember - focus on Andrea, and we can get this over quickly.” “You know, I really don’t think we need the help,” Max King says. “Well, I don’t at least...” “Listen sunshine,” Toxxic snarls, striding across the room and staring up into the Icon’s face, “let’s get one thing straight. What you do after tonight is not my concern, but right here and now you do what I say or I swear you won’t even make it to the bloody ring.” The straight-edger cocks his head to one side, fixing the surprised ICTV Champion with a steely stare. “Understood?” Max King stares back, but he was psychologically unprepared for such a sudden shift in temperament and doesn’t manage to do anything except make a rather frosty nod. “Good,” Toxxic says, then taps King’s ICTV title. “One more thing. I heard that little speech you made after Smarkdown. You are not the greatest of the first-year SWF stars, because you are not World Champion. And never, ever assume that you are bigger than the title you hold.” He steps back and surveys the Icon. “I’m a two-time ICTV Champion, Max. I’ve got a lot of respect for the belt. If you want to hold onto it, you’d better learn that respect too.” “Dude, there’s just one thing I don’t get,” Spike says from his corner. Toxxic looks over at him. “What?” the World Champion asks. “How the hell do you shag a chick with wings?” There are a few moments of silence. Then: “WHAT?” “I mean, they’re both really angry people,” Spike continues, staring at the TV screen. “I don’t see them being platonic, y’know?” Drawn by some horrified intrigue, the other people in the dressing room move around behind Spike so they can actually see the TV screen. What is revealed is the cartoon version of ‘Justice League’, showing Green Lantern and Hawkgirl engaging in some typically confrontational ‘interest’. “Easy,” Jet pipes up after a second, “the girl goes on top.” She pauses to nudge and wink at Kelly. “Right, Kelly?” The look Kelly Connelly turns on Jet is one of surprise that quickly shifts into the startled expression adopted by many straight girls when they find that the only other girl in the room is not entirely like them. “Let’s try and focus here, shall we?” Toxxic asks, rubbing his eyes. “Spike, turn Cartoon Network off, will you...?”

Ryan and Sly are already in the ring, as the SWF comes back from commmercial break. The crowd mumors at the fact. They were at the very least expecting a socio-political commentary in the vein of CNN's "Crossfire" but they won't even be getting that today. Tom Flesher, Ryan Dustin is not. Maybe on another day, they'd receive a Chris Matthews-esque "Hardball" approach, but today, they get the obligitory... BOOM! explosion. Everyone in the arena dies (except for Thoth, of course!) Ryan Dustin (part of him anyway) covers the only thing remaining of his opponent. The right leg of Austin Sly!!! One! Two! Three! The bell rings and Comet just shakes his head. "Tis a sad day, Robert. A sad, sad day." "Hey, atleast he didn't get any blood on my new suit." responds Riley, grimacing at the scene in the ring. For now though, the truly sad thing is that this is over and the SWF fades to commercial break. ==== SUDDENLY INSERTED PROMO “Citizens, welcome back to Lockdown!” Cyclone Comet booms. We’ve just seen an... interesting... match between Austin Sly and Ryan Dustin, and coming up we have the USJL title match between Danny Dagda and-" “-but first,” Riley eagerly interjects, “we have-” “-what do you mean, ‘and first’?” Comet queries. “There’s nothing else scheduled between those two matches!” Abruptly the opening chord of ‘Rookie’ by Boy Sets Fire crashes out across the Staples Centre and the fans rise in universal disrespect as the Smarktron first whites out, then slowly fades to black while jagged white letters flash up: ‘PREPARE TO BE PROVED WRONG...’ “Told you, didn’t I?” Riley demands. “But you wouldn’t listen!” As the guitar riff starts the black screen shifts and becomes the top of a spiky-haired head that raises and stares out with piercing grey eyes before a lopsided grin creases the right-hand side of Toxxic's face. The bass drum starts and clips of his matches flash up - the All-Show Brawl with the Insane Luchador, the infamous Glass Jawbreaker on Aecas, dropping Nathaniel Kibagami on his head with the Caffeine Bomb and the Super Intoxxication that won him the World Title - before moving onto footage of Toxxic taking Mike Van Siclen off a balcony and through a table, the devastating landing timed to coincide with the four blasts of red pyro that climb the entrance ramp before the final, stagewide eruption as the main riff starts- *BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BOOOM!!* -that signifies the arrival of the SWF’s premier straight-edger! The smoke from the pyro starts to drift slightly and Toxxic makes his way out with the World Title slung over one shoulder and a sticking plaster on his forehead from where he took the chairshot that busted him open on Smarkdown. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” The Los Angeles fans are not happy to see Toxxic here, and let him know in no uncertain manner. However, the Brit ignores them as he strides down the ramp while Funyon gathers his microphone and his wits. “Ladies and gentlemen, making his way to the ring at this time; from Nottingham, England, the leader of Revolution Zero and the SWF WORLD... HEAVYWEIGHT... CHAMPION... the ‘Straight-Edge Sensation’... TOOOXXXXX-IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIC!!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” The World Champion rolls into the ring and snatches the microphone from Funyon even before the first verse kicks up and pauses for a second to stare out at the crowd. The chants start to grow even louder, and Toxxic quickly moves to cut them off. “I’ve come out here to talk about three things. Andrea Montgomery...” “YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “...the World Heavyweight Title...” “YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!” “...and Mike Van Siclen.” “BOU-LE-VARD! BOU-LE-VARD!” “Andrea, I hope you realise that what happened on Lockdown was none of my doing,” Toxxic says, carrying on over the crowd response. “I had no idea Mike Van Siclen was going to attack me and cause our match to end in a no-contest. Now, I may be detested throughout and beyond the English-speaking world but I like to think I’m a fair man, so even though I’m no longer quite sure who’s actually running this place now Zenon has disappeared I’m giving you my promise that you will have that title shot you earned at Genesis. After all,” the straight-edger continues, “I’ve never faced any of the SWF’s female competitors and I think it’s high time one learned what it’s like to lose to me.” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Next, the World Heavyweight Title,” Toxxic says, ignoring the new wave of jeering that fills the Staples Centre. “That, in case you’ve forgotten, is the belt that you can see adorning my right shoulder. People in the SWF have fought for this, have sweated and bled for this. The pursuit of it has inspired careers... and ended them too. And whatever else anyone may think of me, I will not have the legacy of this belt tarnished by the actions of one blonde arsehole who thinks he has the right to nonce into the middle of my World Title match and clock me one with a chair. And that leads me to my final subject... Mike Van Siclen.” “BOU-LE-VARD! BOU-LE-VARD!” “Mike, I’d love to say what I want to say and get it off my chest,” Toxxic tells the crowd. “However, knowing you for the blonde-haired, white-toothed, spotlight-hogging jackmonkey that you are...” Toxxic pauses for a second, perhaps to wonder what in the hell a ‘jackmonkey’ is, “...I know that you’re going to come out here and interrupt me anyway. So why don’t you get those obliging production guys to cue up that piece of crap you call an entrance theme and walk your pseudo-Hollywood backside down to the ring where I can talk to you, up close and personal?” “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “Toxxic just called out Citizen Van Siclen, and the crowd definitely want to see it!” Comet says in excitement. “Toxxic’s going to teach Mike Van Siclen a lesson, and I definitely want to see that!” Riley responds. There is no sound in the Staples Centre for a few moments apart from the general crowd noise, with ‘Toxxic sucks!” chants mixed in with shouts for Mike and, from some quarters, Andrea Montgomery. The Straight-Edge Sensation stands in the centre of the ring with the World Title over his shoulder and a superior expression on his face, waiting for- ‘I’m head of the class... I’m popular!’ “YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Gold pyro starts to fountain up at the top of the entrance ramp and out steps Mike Van Siclen, greeted by the massive cheers of the Los Angeles crowd! However, instead of smiling at the fans and doing his normal ‘everyone loves me’ schtick, the man from Illinois strides down the ramp towards the ring, directly towards the man he assaulted with a chair on Lockdown. For his part, Toxxic simply watches Mike approach with what appears to be relaxed confidence... but when the camera gives a close-up of his face, it becomes clear that Toxxic’s smirk is at least partially forced. The Straight-Edge Sensation is not used to being jumped with a chair, and he does not like it one bit. Mike climbs quickly into the ring and walks straight up to Toxxic, who stares right back at him and raises the microphone to speak - but Van Siclen immediately snatches it away! “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “Toxxic, you hopped-up piece of egotrash,” Van Siclen snarls, “I'm sick of your boys, I'm sick of your babbling, I'm sick of Revolution Zero and Toxxic, I'm sick and tired of you. No, I have no regrets about what I did on Lockdown, and if I had a chair in my hand right now I'd do the exact same thing all! over! again!” “BOU-LE-VARD! BOU-LE-VARD!” Toxxic has by now got a mic of his own from the ringside crew, and the World Heavyweight Champion turns around to face the incandescent Van Siclen. “So tell me, Mike... what exactly was it that made you interrupt Andrea Montgomery’s chance to win the World Title from me, this belt that I don’t deserve?” Toxxic asks the leader of the Urban Empire. “I mean, if she’d won, then I wouldn’t have it any more.” And Toxxic’s smile speaks volumes about how likely he thinks that outcome would have been. “Because you have made the mistake of really, really pissing me off,” Mike answers, stepping up close to the straight-edger. “You smile and you smirk and occasionally, yeah, you wrestle pretty well. Honestly, Toxxic, you sound like Mike Van Sic-lite.” The crowd oohs a bit at this, and Van Siclen cracks a smile before continuing. “You make me nauseous, Toxxic, and I flat out would be thrilled if you never set foot in an SWF ring again.” Van Siclen waves one hand vaguely towards the backstage area as the crowd noise begins to rise. “We all know what’s going on, Toxxic. Word has gotten out that ‘Revolution Zero is recruiting’. Everyone knows that you’re looking to get more people on board so you can try and monopolize this fed. I may not be perfect, Toxxic, but if you think I'm going to sit idly by and allow the blatant match thievery that has made Revolution Zero the kings of the SWF, then you've got another thing coming, because I refuse to stand by and watch the SWF fall under your control!” Mike cocks his head to one side, trying to stare into the World Champion’s thoughts. “Who’re you thinking of, Toxxic? A newcomer like Carnage? Evan Wolfe? Maybe your new partner for later this evening, Max King? There are plenty of people stupid or easily-led enough to do your bidding, but I’m not going to wait around for you to call the shots for half the roster.” “So what do you plan to do about me?” Toxxic asks... and while the smile is still there, the Brit has an edge in his voice that was absent before. “I plan on taking you out.” “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “Well, you’ll get your chance later tonight,” Toxxic tells the Spectacle. “But then again, you haven’t had much luck against Revolution Zero in tag matches lately, have you? Or 6-mans, for that matter...” “Not the six man,” Mike answers. “The time for Revolution Zero and the Urban Empire is over, Toxxic. I want you, by yourself, in the ring, and I want it on Storm.” “BOU-LE-VARD! BOU-LE-VARD!” Toxxic raises one eyebrow and stares hard at Mike Van Siclen, trying to work out if the Spectacle is playing a trick. Van Siclen just stares straight back, and Toxxic slowly raises the mic to his lips. “...I’ll think about it.” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Think on this, Toxxic,” Mike tells him, “your pride isn't the only thing I want to strip you of on Storm. In fact, there's a belt on your shoulder that would like damn good around my waist!” “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Toxxic smirks, looking Mike up and down as if trying to decide how the title belt would look on the Spectacle's waist. Trying to supress a laugh, he speaks; “I don't think it'd look too good around your waist, but to each their own, I suppose.” Toxxic pauses, then fiercely continues, “But just what in the hell makes your pretentious ass think I’m going to put that on the line?” The straight-edger flashes a grin at the Spectacle. “Here’s what I wanted to say to you, Mike; keep messing in my business, and you’ll find out the hard way why people don’t cross me more than once.” Toxxic starts to walk past Van Siclen towards the entrance ramp. “You and Todd Cortez and the Masked Man - wherever he is - can convince yourselves that the Urban Empire matters, and maybe it does in some sense. But individually I can take any of you, and if you want to make it personal... well, you won’t be the first to make that mistake. And here’s a piece of advice,” Toxxic leans close to Van Siclen, as if imparting a secret. “I tend to take being hit in the head with a chair... personally.” Toxxic turns to leave, but Van Siclen isn’t finished yet. He wants to get Toxxic one-on-one in the ring, with the title on the line, and he knows one way to do it. “Are you afraid of me, you little bitch?” “YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “Uh-oh...” Riley says quietly. The camera focuses on the back view of Toxxic. The Straight-Edge Sensation’s shoulders have started to shake... and then the eruption comes. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” “...?” Van Siclen simply looks puzzled as Toxxic creases up before turning back to face him. Genuine mirth is writ all over the face of the World Heavyweight Champion. “Me... afraid... that’s a good one, Mike,” Toxxic splutters. “Seriously, why would I be scared of you? You’re a good athlete, sure, and you’re a good tag team wrestler, but World Champion... I don’t think so.” He straightens up a bit and wipes his eyes. “I’m not afraid of you, Mike, I just don’t think you deserve a title shot. Besides, Andrea is ahead of everyone else in the queue... including you.” “Fine!” Mike fires back desperately, “I’ll give her first shot when I beat you!” “Sorry, nothing doing,” Toxxic waves him away. “I think I’ve worked out what you’re after now - you were trying to make me mad so you could get the match, then maybe you’d be able to Johnny Dangerous your way to a win and not only beat me but take my title, and you think that’d stop Revolution Zero’s momentum.” Toxxic’s face twists into the familar lopsided grin. “Sorry, Mike. But much as I’d love to kick your arse in the ring, I’ve got a better plan: “I defend my title against people who’ve earned their shot... and I leave you to rot in midcard hell. Because that will drive you nuts.” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” Toxxic turns to leave again, but now Mike darts forward and grabs his arm. Toxxic whirls around, ready to start fighting... but Mike backs out of striking distance and starts to speak again. “I hate to do this, Toxxic... but I think I have something to put on the line too.” “You have nothing that remotely compares with this,” Toxxic tells him, hefting his title. “Your car? Your house? They mean shit to me Mike, compared to this.” One more time, Toxxic turns to leave the ring. And now Mike Van Siclen only has one card left. “...then you can have my career.” That card just happens to be the wild card. “WHAT!?” Comet erupts in part-amazement, part-horror as the Staples Centre goes wild for Van Siclen’s suggestion. “Is Citizen Van Siclen really serious about this?” “He’d better be!” is Riley’s only response. Toxxic stops in his tracks and half-turns to look back at Mike Van Siclen. The Spectacle is standing in the centre of the ring, staring straight at him. Toxxic can tell the offer is genuine... and that is very intriguing indeed. “Your career,” the Straight-Edge Sensation says, just to clarify. “If you win, you get the World Heavyweight Title and the rare distinction of a win over me. And if I win, the leader of the Urban Empire, Mike Van Siclen, finally shuts up and leaves the SWF for good?” Mike simply nods, then raises his mic. “And when I do, after I’ve honoured any rematch clause you may or may not have, I’ll give Andrea her title shot.” Toxxic grins, lopsidedly as ever. “Well Mike, I guess I’ll see you at Storm then. But I promise you that will be your last match... and I never break a promise.” Toxxic rolls under the ropes and heads up the entrance ramp, a smile playing over his features. But despite his cocky demeanor, it's still ‘Popular’ by Nada Surf that kicks up over the speakers, and it's Mike Van Siclen standing in the centre of the ring, it's his name that the crowd chants. Tonight the two men lock up for statistics... ... on Storm, they lock up for everything that matters. FADE OUT