the.weej

A slow Gospel music begins pumping through the speakers at the Cumberland County Civic Center. The crowd begins to chant as a dim blue light emanates from the entrance ramp. As the music begins to build in crescendo a tall man with long, silver hair emerges from under the Titantron. All dressed in black his armbands clearly show emblems of his faith leaving no doubt as to his identity. The Paladian approaches the ring. Soon the Paladian is in the center of the ring. As the audience looks on he begins to slowly adjust his hair. He appears to be attempting to braid a portion while awaiting the arrival of his opponent. Oddly enough his eyes—which appeared as blue during his entrance to the ring, are now pitch black. Riley: Well the Paladian is ready Comet: Citizen Silver will surely test this Candace tonight Riley: Do you know why he does that with his hair? Comet: No. I realize many wrestlers have certain ceremonies they do before each match. It’s kind of like a baseball player not shaving during the play offs. Perhaps The Paladian braids his hair as a ritual of some sort Riley: I also noticed when he was heading towards the ring his eyes looked blue, but now he’s there and their clearly black… Comet: I noticed that two, maybe it was just the lighting from the entrance ramp reflecting off his eyes, like red eye, only blue eye… The Paladian takes the mike and walks to the center of the ring as his music fades The Paladian: Ms. Candace. You are a very attractive woman. I do not deny this. But while these people can clearly see your beauty. I can see your evil. You are a sinner Ms.Candace. You are a product of the decadence that befalls the world today. To those who are diseased of either the mind or the soul, within those torn by injustice and faithlessness, I stand. For I am faith, for I’m the light which of justice and death to those who oppose me” Comet: Did I here that right? Did he just say he was going to be death to Candace tonight? Riley: I don’t know he said he was going to kill her, but he clearly called her a sinner The lights dim as David Bowies “China Girl” blares over the arena. A low booing begins as Frisco walks from under the titantron. He is wearing his usual black Pierre Cardon suit and as he looks over the crowd he flashes a snarl at the audience. As the crowd reacts Candace makes her way out of the entranceway followed closely by the giant Lobo. Candace looks stunning in her black playboy bunny tank top and ridiculously short black leather miniskirt. This time she is not wearing her fashion stiletto heels, but is heading to the ring barefoot for her match. Lobo is once again fashion challenged in a corduroy suit jacket and sweat pants. His massive baldhead once again a mask on confusion with his jaw wide open and a clear look of confusion on his face. Showing no fear whatsoever Candace gracefully slides under the bottom rope and confronts the Paladian. Riley: I don’t know about this, that’s a heck of a difference in size between these two Comet: I know, The Paladian outweighs her by well over 100 pounds and he’s about a good foot taller than her Riley: So much for going eye to eye with your opponent The Paladian starts to speak to Candace as he goes to her corner. He appears to lecturing her on her evil ways. For her part Candace just flashes her smile which is enough to get a mild round of applause from the audience. Riley: What’s kind of unusual in this match is these are both classic villains. The Paladian definitely come off to me as a bible thumper, lecturing people on their sins. I mean where does he get off telling people their all sinners and only he has faith? Comet: I agree, but Candace is far from an angel. The last time she was here she was talking about how she was going to make the Paladian suffer and beg for mercy Riley: Well it will be interesting to see her back those words up The ring bell chimes as the match gets underway. Almost immediately Frisco is screaming at the referee from outside the ring Frisco (from outside ring): Hey ref! C’mon check him! He had something in his hand! As the Paladian turns his attention momentarily towards the screaming Frisco Candace fires a missile drop kick hard into his left hamstring. This immediately knocks the Paladian to his knee as Candace fires several hard kicks directly at the compromised limb. Riley: well it’s definitely a good strategy to go after the paladian leg. If she can injure that part of the body it will really hinder his mobility in the match. Comet: It’s probably her best bet because there’s no way she can match strength with this guy. As the Paladian attempts to raise to his feet Candace fires a perfectly aimed Buzzsaw kick to his right temple, knocking him to the mat. She quickly grabs his injured leg and slaps on a punishing single leg Boston crab. Comet: Well it sure looks like Candace is planning on working that leg tonight Riley: The Paladian will be limping tomorrow Frisco walks around the ring yelling encouragement to Candace. Lobo stands outside the ring like a statue. Comet: I think someone should go wake up Lobo Riley: I don’t know, but if I was The Paladian I’d be very aware that he was standing outside the ring. The guys huge. After struggling for a while the Paladian is able to roll to his back where he is able to kick the lightweight Candace off, breaking the Boston crab. He quickly tries to scurry back to his feet buy is once again met with a devastating missile drop kick. This one hitting him squarely on the jaw and knocking him again to the ground. Candace hurries to the turnbuckle. Comet: This could be dangerous Riley: I agree, it’s a bit early in the match for a high risk move Candace quickly goes for a Swanton Bomb but the Paladian quickly puts up his knees catching Candace directly in the stomach. She doubles over in pain. Riley: I think she jumped the gun on that move The Paladian quickly grabs the long black hair of Candace and pulls her to her feet. He grabs her leg and gives her a devastating fisherman’s suplex, hooking the leg and holding her in a pinning position. 1 2 Candace kicks out. Comet: That was a close one Riley: I thought it was all over As Candace attempts to get to her feet the Paladian fires a nasty clothesline that sends her sprawling to the ring corner. He quickly rolls her onto her stomach for the Camel clutch. Riley: She may tap here While the referee continues to ask Candace if she wants to quit, she stretches her hand to the rope and forces the break. The Paladian steps back and as Candace attempts to get to her feet her goes for a running bulldog. Candace senses the move coming and drops to her stomach making The Paladian miss the move completely and run straight into the turnbuckle. As he stumbles back Candace goes for a quick roll up. 1 2 The Paladian kicks out. The Paladian goes for a spinning kick but Candace catches his leg and gives him an enzuigiri, which knocks him to the mat. As he rises he is once again met with a missile drop kick to the jaw. Comet: This girl is feisty that’s for sure Riley: I know the Paladian is going to be very upset about those drop kicks. As the Paladian once again tries to get to his feet Candice attempts to set his up for the Diamond cutter, however the Paladian pushes her away before she can pull the move off. He springs to his feet and grabs Candace by the back of the neck and rifles her to the ropes, as she comes back he greets with with a clothesline that knocks her off her feet. The crowd, sensing the tide is turning, begins to applaud the Paladian—who falls to a knee in some sort of religious gesture. The Paladian steps behind Candace and slaps her into a Triangle chokehold. He digs the move in choking the life out of heras he uses his size and weight advantage to full effect. After wearing her down quite a bit he fires a missile drop kick of his own to the back of Candice’s head; much to the objection of Frisco who continues to harass the referee. Riley: This is what Candace will not be able to deal with. She can’t match power with this guy. Unless she can turn things around in a hurry this one is over Comet: I agree. She has great speed and moves but this guy is a 6 footer with 240 pounds so she better not let him work her over The Paladian again grabs Candace by the hair and pulls her up, this time he gets a warning from the referee, which he totally ignores. He grabs Candace by the waste and gives her a vicious series of German Suplexes. After the third suplex he gives a non-challant cover, not bothering to properly hook the leg 1 2 Candace bridges out of the pin. Comet: That was close Riley: 2 and ¾ A frustrated look fills the face of the paladian as he again goes behind Candace, this time putting her in the Cobra Clutch. He forces her into the center of the ring to avoid another rope break by Candace. Riley: I can’t say I see her powering her way out of this Comet: It was a valiant effort, but I feel the end is near for citizen Candace A wild look comes over the Paladians face as he digs the hold in. The referee continues to ask Candace if she wants to submit as Frisco jumps to the rip apron screaming for the ref to break the hold. Frisco: It’s a choke ref! As the referee is momentarily distracted Candace gives a well-aimed back kick to the Paladians groin. This immediately breaks the hold and drops both combatants to the mat. Riley: Well that’s one way to break it Candace quickly rolls out of the ring and begins to walk around in an effort to regroup after the vicious assault by the Paladian. The Paladian begins to follow her, but realizing that Lobo is standing there thinks twice about it. Candace huddles with Frisco and Lobo as the referee begins the count. Comet: Candace has until a count of 10 to get back in the ring, otherwise she’ll be counted out and The Paladian will be awarded the match Riley: Well thank you Captain Obvious At a count of 9 Candace quickly rolls into the ring. The Paladian immediately pounces of her to slap her in a side headlock, but before it is applied Candace turns it into a quick Russian Leg sweep. She follows it up with another punishing kick to the Paladians well worked leg. Comet: I’ll tell you Robert those shots are all targeted directly at the Paladians left leg, in particular his knee Riley: I know, she is really working on his knee ligaments. She’s kicked, stretch and attacked that particular knee at every chance she’s had tonight Comet: It really doesn’t matter how big you are, that will cause problems for you As the Paladian is struggling to get to his feet Candace fires a missile drop kick to the top of his head, he falls back hard to the mat. Riley: Geez this girl is brutal Comet: You won’t have to tell the Paladian about that As the Paladian rolls on his back Candace quickly does a lionsault on him. She quickly gets off but shoots a quick kick directly into his groin, which brings an immediate warning and verbal blasting by the referee. A sinister smile covers Candace face as Frisco cheers her on. Riley: She really went down town on that move Candace quickly ascends the turnbuckle and prepares for her patented Swanton Bomb. The Paladian is lying in the center of the ring while attempting to recover from the cheap shot to the groin. As Candace stands on the top turn buckle she smiles at the crowd, arms raised high in the air and doing the Samoan “I love you” Symbol with her hands. Comet: That is just disrespectful if you ask me Riley: Well no one did, but if she hits this move this one is over Candace quickly does a Swanton bomb with lands perfectly on the Paladian, He convulses violently at the impact Comet: Oh my Candace quickly hooks the leg and goes for the cover 1 2 The Paladian miraculously kicks out. Candace face shows incredible shock as he jaw drops lower than Lobos. Frisco is screaming at the referee for a slow count Comet: My God that was close Candace quickly regroups and rolls the Paladian onto his stomach. She applies a devastating Camel clutch as she desperately tries for the submission. The paladian’s face is a mask of pain as Candace digs in with all her strength. Riley: The Paladian is definitely in a compromised position, but I’m not sure that Candace will have the power to make him tap Comet: If it was another girl she might have a shot, but this guy is 250 pounds After struggling for a while the referee moves closer to ask The Paladian if he wants to give. After a long while the Paladian works his way to his knees. As Candace fights to hold him down the Paladian forces his way up to his feet. He drives Candace back hard against the turnbuckle as the crowd reacts loudly to the change in action. Comet: That will slow her down! The Paladian gestures up towards the sky as if looking support from above, and then unloads with a series of punishing shots to Candace. He fires a hard kick to her stomach and gives her a powerful whip to the ropes; as she bounces off them he greats her with a fierce power clothesline. Riley: That will take the spunk out of her! Comet: I think the end is coming Frisco leaps to the ring apron screaming at the referee to take control of the match. The Paladian runs over and clocks Frisco with a savage forearm shiver, which knocks him right off the ring apron, and onto the floor. As Candace lies flat on her back in the center of the ring the Paladian falls to his knee and reaches once more towards the sky as if he is talking to his god. Riley: The Paladian needs to stop praying so much and finish this Comet: You might be right, but I don’t think it will matter at this stage The Paladian gets back to his feet and goes to the fallen Candace. He grabs her by the hair and pulls her up. A look of horror fills her eyes as she realizes she is unable to mount any defense at this stage. The Paladian grabs her black leather skirt and rips it. The crowd erupts with applause as Candace’s’ skimpy white thong is revealed. She tries to cover herself as her fear quickly turns to embarrassment. Riley: What the hell… The Paladian forces Candace over his knee and spanks her like a petulant child. The crowd erupts with cheers while Frisco finally gets back to his feet The Paladian: Sinner repent! Comet: It looks like the Paladian is taking her to the wood shed The Paladian once again grabs Candace by the hair and brings her up. He again whips her to the ropes, this time she turns and grabs the top rope so as not to bounce back into another clothesline. The Paladian quickly charges at her with a spear. At the last second Candace drops to the mat, forcing down the top rope. The Paladian over shoots Candace and ends up flying over the top rope and landing hard on the arena floor. Riley: He hit that hard Candace regains her composure and runs to the referee screaming in Japanese. The referee looks totally lost, as he has no idea what she is saying, but quickly realizes it has something to do with her leather skirt. He looks around the ring in an attempt to find it. Frisco also leaps to the ring apron yelling for the referee to get his wrestlers skirt. As the referee searches for the skirt the Paladian starts to get back to his feet. He is suddenly met with a thunderous chop by Lobo who was motionless all match, but suddenly has strung into action. He grabs the Paladian and sends him hard to the metal ring post. Comet: Lobo is attacking The Paladian! Riley: Damn she’s just distracting the ref so Lobo can get some shots in As the referee finally finds the skirt and assists Candace is putting it back on Lobo shoves the Paladian back into the ring. The Paladian, now very dazed from Lobos vicious assault, makes a frail effort to get back to his feet. Candace runs over and plants him with a hellacious diamond cutter. As the Paladian bounces off the mat she quickly raps him up for the pin 1 2 3 The Winner by Pin fall Candace! Candace leaps to her feet as Frisco and Lobo charge into the ring. As Frisco passes the fallen Paladian he gives him a quick kick to the ribs. He embraces the euphoric Candace who is celebrating her win. Riley: Very disappointing, that was high way robbery Comet: I kind of suspected Lobo would somehow get involved in this

“Uh-huh.” Michael Anderson is speaking into a cellular phone with an unseen party as he limps back towards Birdman’s dressing room: “Uh-huh… Uh-huh… Good… Are you ready for me to bring him in? … When? … On Storm? Why not at Ground Zero? … Oh, okay… And you think he’ll say yes? … Ha-ha, yeah, I should have known better than to ask you that… Yeah… Yeah… Yeah, I’ll tell him; thanks for keeping me informed… So I’ll see you next week, then? … Uh-huh… Alright. We’ll be ready. Bye.” Upon completion of his distended phone conversation, Anderson flips his phone closed and slips it into his jacket pocket. As he proceeds down the hallway, he becomes vaguely aware that he is on the receiving end of several icy stares from some of the wrestlers milling about in the hallway. Smiling to himself, Anderson continues on his course, until… “Urk!” Anderson suddenly finds a massive hand wrapped around his throat, and he is turned around to find himself staring into the burning eyes of the World Heavyweight Champion! “I’m only going to say this once,” Janus rumbles. “I don’t know who you and your little feathered friend are here for, but if you’re even considering going after me, I suggest you think about it.” With that, he lifts Anderson over a foot off the ground and holds him up against the wall at eye level “Think about it real hard,” he growls, tightening his grip on Anderson’s throat. “Get me?” The agent nods in compliance, and the Hell Machine releases him, watching him drop to the floor. “Just stay out of my way!” Anderson retrieves his cane and pulls himself to his feet as Janus storms off. He straightens out his suit and watches the champion’s retreating form. “Well,” he thinks to himself, “I guess bad news travels fast.”

“WELCOME TO S… W… F… SMAAAARKDOWN!” shouts the Masked Avenger himself. “This is my partner, Bobby Riley, and I’m CYCLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE COMET~!” “Of course you are,” Riley sighs. “Fans, we’ve got a great show ahead of us tonight, but I… can’t shake the feeling that they accidentally put the main event first. Tom Flesher is jerking the curtain!” “True enough. He’s taking on Cruiserweight Champion ‘Hollywood’ Spike Jenkins, and Toxxic is barred from ringside! What effect will that have on the match? Not much, I would wager, were I the sort of cad who did. Toxxic, after all, refuses to cheat.” “I can’t believe you buy that line!” says Riley. “He beat Tom Flesher, and that’s evidence enough for me that he’s a dirty, rotten, cheating bastard. I mean, how else would he have managed that?!” “In Buffalo, no less,” says Comet. “In any event, Tom Flesher takes on Toxxic’s fellow Revolution Zero member, with the Cruiserweight Title on the line! Let’s go to Funyon!” Funyon, impeccably dressed as always, steps into the ring. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he says, “tonight’s opening contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the SWF Cruiserweight Championship! Standard cruiserweight rules apply: there will be a 20-count on the outside of the ring, and throwing the opponent over the top rope is grounds for an immediate disqualification. Making his way to the ring…” BOOM! An explosion of blue pyro and smoke lights up the Cumberland County Civic Center as “Kashmir” begins to blare throughout the arena! Tom Flesher walks through the curtain, looking thoroughly displeased at losing his place of honor as the second entrant. With Allison Onita at his side, Flesher struts to the ring, looking aloof and focused. He climbs the stairs, and as usual, the music fades. He looks at Funyon, who sighs and draws an index card from his pocket. “Tonight, you see before you one of the seven modern wonders of the world. Weighing in at 229 and nine-tenths of a pound, from Buffalo, New York, this man is a master of the Greco-Roman art of combat, a brilliant strategist, and… (jesus…) an absolute demon in the boudoir. How can his adversary hope to compete? Quite simply, he cannot. He will, as all the others have before him, bow down before ‘the Superior One,’ TOM FLESHER!!!!” Flesher golf-claps for himself as Allison helps strip off his warm-up suit. He starts to loosen up, but before he can get through his usual stretch, the techno beats of Darude’s “Sandstorm” begins playing over the announce system, as… *BOOM* …White pyro goes off on each side of the stage. “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins appears out from the backstage area, followed by his fellow stablemate, Jet. Spike stops at the entrance ramp, the hood of his jacket covering his head, while he stares at the ground. Spike flips the hood off his head, throwing his arms out in a cocky manner for the whole world to see. Spike and Jet begin to make their way down to the ring. “And his opponent, from Hollywood, California, and weighing in at 225 pounds… the SWF Cruiserweight Champion, ‘HOLLYWOOD’ SPIKE JENKINS!!!!” Spike mocks the fans in the front row, as he climbs up the steel steps onto the ring apron. He walks across the ring apron, proclaiming his ignorance to the fans with his arms in the air. Spike steps through the ring ropes, and peels his jacket off. He tosses it to Jet at ringside, as he waits for the match to begin. DING DING DING!!!! “This one’s underway,” says Cyclone Comet as Tom Flesher and Spike Jenkins circle around each other in the center of the ring. Jenkins leans forward, grabbing for a collar-and-elbow tie. Flesher backs away, though, and chidingly wags his finger in Spike’s face as if to say “Don’t even think about it.” He steps back and rolls his shoulders out, then slowly cracks his neck from side to side. The fans begin to boo, and Spike steps in again to look for the lock… but Flesher takes a step back and shakes his head, looking distracted. He holds his hands up, claiming his personal space, and stretching out a little bit more. Frustrated, Spike turns toward the referee, who simply shrugs. “What on earth is Flesher doing?” asks Comet. “I’m not sure what he thinks he’s up to, but…” “He didn’t get to stretch out,” says Riley dismissively. “Give the man a chance to warm up!” Flesher cracks his neck again, then takes a deep breath. Jenkins, by now incredibly angry, lunges toward Flesher… who takes a step back, shaking his head sadly. “Nope, that’s not gonna do it,” says Riley. “The thing is, people don’t understand what a well-oiled machine Tom Flesher is. He’s not the sort of thing you can just flip a switch and turn on. The world would be so much better if he was, but Comet, he’s just not.” Comet simply stares blankly at Riley. Riley raises an eyebrow. “What?” Jenkins turns toward the ref, angry and frustrated, pleading with Hardcastle to force Flesher to start the match. Hardcastle tries to explain to Spike that there’s nothing he can do, but Spike doesn’t have time for a rejoinder, as Flesher crouches down and hammers him in the side with an explosive double-leg takedown! Jenkins collapses to the mat as Flesher covers his hips, then slides down and hooks his left leg as the Revolution Zero member bellies down. Tom stands up, bending the leg back and snagging a quick and dirty half-crab hold! As he does, Spike starts frantically scrambling toward the ropes. Before Flesher can sit back and cinch the hold, the Cruiserweight Champion grabs the bottom rope and hangs on for dear life! Hardcastle begins his count. ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! Finally, and with a sigh of great inconvenience, Flesher rolls his eyes and releases the crab hold. He backs away, nodding impatiently as the SWF’s junior referee admonishes him, and Jet comes over to talk to Jenkins. “There you see one of the major advantages that Revolution Zero has shown since its inception,” Comet notes. “Jet is not only competent as a strategist, but her presence seems to calm Spike Jenkins and encourage him to wrestle in a more careful, deliberate style.” “Bah!” spits Riley. “She’s just another meddling jezebel… but at least she’s not as skanky as Megan Skye. She’s always getting in the way of Much More Maddix.” “Well, I can clearly see why that would infuriate you.” Jenkins nods as Jet talks to him, helping him regain his focus. Flesher, meanwhile, rolls his eyes as Hardcastle finishes his lecture. Spike gets to his feet facing the ropes, and Flesher shushes Hardcastle with a “Listen, shut up for a second.” He shoves past the official and lunges toward Spike, looking for a rear waistlock and German. Jet points frantically at Flesher, and Spike pivots. As he turns, he throws a hard back elbow that catches Flesher in the jaw, and Tom takes a step backwards. Spike steps toward him, then pivots again and hammers Flesher in the jaw with a spinning heel kick! The crowd gasps as Flesher collapses to the mat, caught totally off-guard by Spike’s shockingly effective offense. “And that, Robert, is precisely why Revolution Zero is dangerous,” says Comet. “With two relatively inexperienced members – Toxxic and Sean Davis – and a third member who is known for little more than floundering in the lower card, people are apt to underestimate the members. It’s easy to forget that Spike Jenkins has improved by leaps and bounds over the past six months, and that Toxxic carries himself as a veteran of the sport, while both are augmented by Sean Davis’s immense size and power.” “Sure, you say that now,” Riley replies, “but you wait until Ground Zero, when you see Spike staggering around with a naked waist, Toxxic on his back, and Tom Flesher dominating both weight classes. Where’s your messiah now, Comet?” “Reverend Moon? Why, I believe his residence is in Washington, DC. Why do you ask?” “I knew that stay in Southeast Asia wasn’t going to be good for you,” sighs Riley. Flesher sits up instinctively, not quite sure where he is or what he’s doing. Spike, more than happy to help with the illusion, steps forward and lets fly with a quick spin-kick to Flesher’s face! The Superior One’s head snaps back, and Spike dives onto him for ONE! Flesher kicks out easily, but even so, the crowd is shocked by Spike’s take-charge game plan. He stands up and looks down at Flesher, then… begins golf-clapping for himself. The crowd boos, and Spike’s face twists up into a half-smirk, half-sneer even as Jet joins in. “Now he’s just trying to rub it in,” Riley whines. “First he hits Flesher with those illegal loaded boots, and then he rips off Taamo’s whole act! What’s next – using the Superior Stretch Beta to finish people?” “Uh, Robert?” “Eh?” “Oh, never mind,” says Comet, thinking better of it. As Spike continues the golf-clap, he turns away… only to quickly double over in pain and fall to the mat, his face twisted up in agony. The crowd boos even louder, not sure who’s more worthy of abuse – the annoying Hollywood kid, or the guy that just engaged in… “Unethical treatment of the testicles if I’ve ever seen it,” protests Comet. “I can’t believe Hardcastle didn’t see that!” “See what?” “Yes, yes, I know. Your monitor went out.” “Budget cuts, Comet. I don’t even HAVE my own monitor anymore.” Riley sighs. “They cut my wardrobe budget, too.” “I don’t see how that’s an issue. You wear the same powder-blue ruffled tuxedo to every pay-per-view.” “It’s a timeless style! How can you mess with it?!” Flesher gets back up to his feet, and Sexton Hardcastle confronts him. Flesher shakes his head, his face looking like it’s an insult to even ask if he did, in fact, hit a low blow. Flesher rolls his eyes and grabs Spike’s boots. He spreads them, looks at Sexton, and says, “If I was going to low blow him, you’d KNOW it!” With that, he stomps down with all his might on Spike’s crotch! The crowd boos loudly, and Hardcastle reprimands Flesher forcefully. Flesher backs away, protesting that he was only trying to make a point. Frustrated, Hardcastle can’t do much besides shuffle to the side as Flesher pushes past him and gets another stomp in, this one to Spike’s midsection. Jenkins, meanwhile, just curls up on the mat, hoping for the pain to subside. Flesher reaches to the mat, grabbing Jenkins by the hair and pulling him to his feet. Still weakened by the blow, Jenkins isn’t in any condition to fight as Flesher clamps on a front facelock and jacks him up. He hoists Spike into the air until he’s totally vertical, and then falls back with a textbook suplex that sends the Cruiserweight Champion crashing to the mat. Spike arches his back as Flesher floats over and covers hi, with Hardcastle counting ONE! Once again, though, it’s too early. Spike kicks out, though not without some effort. Flesher plants his forearm on Jenkins’ nose and grinds it down, pinning him down and looking at the official expectantly. Hardcastle counts ONE! Still, the cover isn’t enough to put the champion down, and Flesher settles for letting Jenkins belly down. He slides over, planting his seat on the small of Spike’s back. He reaches down, grabbing Jenkins’ chin with both hands and yanking it back, settling into a camel clutch! Not sure how to react, the fans sit on their hands as Flesher shuffles forward to increase the pressure on the neck. “We’ve seen Flesher do this before,” says Riley. “Depending on what he’s planning to attack, he’ll adjust his position slightly to fatigue that area a little more. He moved back when he was attacking Crow’s stomach, and here you see him stretching the neck a little more. Really, it’s quite ingenious.” Flesher pulls hard on Spike’s chin, working for all the fatigue he can get. Spike struggles, trying to escape. Jet cheers him on from the sideline, even as Allison Onita hops up onto the apron to shout encouragement to her charge. After a few seconds, though, Flesher realizes that he’s not going to register the submission without more work to set it up. He gets up and grabs a handful of Spike’s hair, pulling him back to his feet. With a quick pivot, he whips Spike toward the ropes. Jenkins rebounds, and Taamo poses in the center, stepping forward with a palm thrust! Spike sees it coming, though, and ducks the strike! This prompts a pop from the crowd, despite their dislike for both competitors, and the Cruiserweight King continues across the ring. He bounces off the ropes, and as Flesher turns around, Jenkins leaps into the air! He grabs the Superior One’s neck and crashes to the mat with a floating neckbreaker! Flesher, stunned, stays on the mat as Jenkins backs away, trying to buy a few seconds to recover. “Phantom Neckbreaker!” shouts Cyclone Comet. “Out of nowhere, the charcoal-grey Jenkins nails the jet-black Flesher with a stunning impact maneuver that allows him to recuperate!” Flesher’s chest heaves as he sits up and slowly moves his neck, checking to see if everything is still in working order. Flesher sits up, shaken. Before he knows what hit him, though, he’s nailed in the back of the head with a running enzuigiri! “DANGEROUS WIZARD~!” shouts Comet. “Spike Jenkins hits that variation on Jay Dawg’s Shining Black, and doubtless Tom Flesher’s head is ringing like the Liberty Bell! It seems odd to see Jenkins fighting on the side of justice, but sometimes, heroes’ hats are less than the purest shade of white.” “Spike’s is really more of a mushroom grey,” says Riley. “Or, actually, more like that pair of underwear you haven’t washed since you bought them.” “… of course.” Jenkins rolls onto Flesher, covering him for ONE!!! TWO!!!! NO!! Flesher kicks out, but winces at the pain. He rolls to his stomach as Spike, showing the effects of a significant adrenaline rush, backs away and watches him closely. As Tom gets to his feet, Spike grabs him by the wrist. He whips Flesher to the corner, and Tom hits hard. He staggers out as Spike lies in wait. Jenkins catches him mid-step, throwing one arm around Flesher’s neck to set up a uranage! Flesher tries to pull away, but the Revolution Zero member moves too quickly! In the blink of an eye, Jenkins drops to his knees, jarring Flesher’s jaw against his shoulder with the Minor Threat! Flesher pops straight up from the impact of the jawbreaker, then stumbles back into the corner! “Jenkins hits the Minor Threat, and Robert, you can’t deny the benefits of training under Toxxic!” “Sure you can. When’s the last time Jenkins got his hands on some Yes-I-Cannibis? His motivation’s got to be shot!” Jenkins, though, seems to disagree with Riley. He sprints to the corner opposite Flesher’s. Building up speed, Jenkins runs out of the corner and dives into a handspring. With a powerful jump, Hollywood leaps off the mat and unleashes a gamengiri! Unfortunately, there’s no face there to kick. “Flesher ducks the Tidal Wave!” cackles Riley, as Jenkins bounces back off the turnbuckle. He falls to the mat as Flesher starts to get to his feet. Spike, in obvious pain, lays on the mat as Flesher steps toward him. “And he’s lucky that he did,” Comet says. “Even though Jenkins’ karma has apparently caught up with him, in that Justice refuses to reward him for only a single foray onto the light side, Taamo is certainly no better off than his adversary.” Jenkins stays on the mat for a few more seconds as Flesher leans against the ropes to regain his wind. As Spike starts to stir, Flesher is forced to go into action before he’s quite ready to. Nonetheless, he reaches down and hooks the champion by the waist. Spike stands up, saving Flesher a considerable amount of energy. The Superior One tightens his grip and arches back, letting fly with a loud kiai as he throws Jenkins overhead with a German suplex! He unlocks his hands at the height of the arch, releasing Spike and sending him crashing to the mat neck-first! Flesher collapses, though, and even as Spike lays motionless on the mat, he’s unable to capitalize. “That was a beautiful released German suplex!” gushes Bobby Riley. “Picture-perfect! Did you see how hard Spike landed?” “If it was indeed perfect, Flesher would have gotten the pin,” Comet points out. Flesher very, very slowly crawls over. With a great deal of effort, he manages to drape his body over Spike’s chest. Hardcastle counts ONE!!! TWO!!! NO!!!!! Spike kicks out! “Spike Jenkins would have been done for if Flesher had been just a little bit quicker!” says Riley. “The Cruiserweight Chump’s in trouble!” “Spike would have been in trouble, yes,” agrees Comet, “had he not done enough damage that Flesher was unable to capitalize on his own maneuver. Jenkins is holding his own, Robert.” Spike rolls to his stomach once again, and Flesher dives onto him. He reaches down, snagging Spike by the chin and pulling his head back. Jenkins forces his head down, trying with all his might to defend against the camel clutch that Flesher used to get the advantage earlier in the match. Taamo yanks back on the chin, but Jenkins fights with everything he has to break it, and lunges forward. Flesher smirks and shoves his head forward, then dives to the front and hooks Jenkins in the Gedo Clutch! Allison cheers with delight as Hardcastle counts ONE!! TWO!!!! THR- NO!!!!!! “SO close!” says Riley. “Come on, are you going to look at that and tell me that Tom Flesher doesn’t have it ALL over Jenkins when it comes to ring awareness and just plain smarts?” “In the end, it doesn’t matter who the smarter wrestler is, or which competitor has smoked his body weight in cannabis more often. All that matters is who secures the fall.” Jenkins rolls away, freeing himself from the pinning combination. He rolls over one shoulder onto his feet and stands up as quickly as he can. Flesher, a little bit slower to get up, pays for his lackadaisical attitude when Jenkins dives at his shins with a soccer tackle! “The tutelage of Toxxic is paying dividends for Spike Jenkins,” says Cyclone Comet. “He hits Tom Flesher with a soccer tackle and takes away the challenger’s momentum!” Flesher gets up, not significantly damaged by the soccer tackle, but more tripped up. Jenkins lies in wait, watching Flesher closely. As the Superior One turns toward him, Spike thrusts his boot into Taamo’s jaw with a superkick! “Darling, save the Last Dance for me!” shouts Comet, musically. “Flesher eats the sweet chin music of the Drifters and drifts off into semi-consciousness!” “Jesus Christ,” murmurs Riley. “You’re one walking non-sequitur.” “Only because Mr. Flesher is temporarily off his feet.” Flesher rolls away, grimacing in pain. He shakes his head, trying to regain his senses, even as Spike backs away. Ready to make another surgically precise strike, Spike waits and watches his opponent pull himself to his feet with the ropes. As Flesher slowly stands up, Hollywood sprints toward him and hooks him by the head with a diamond cutter! Spike falls forward… but Tom hooks the top rope and stays standing! Spike hits the mat, surprised, and Flesher takes advantage by hammering him in the back of the head with a sitdown dropkick! Taamo gets back up, starting to get his second wind as the head strike buys him a few seconds. “Tom Flesher shows outstanding ring awareness,” says Bobby, “in avoiding Jenkins’ deadly Bad Beat and using it to get some recovery time. I mean, come on, Comet. Jenkins is just plain outclassed.” “If he’s outclassed, Robert, why hasn’t Flesher walked over for the win yet?” “Well, he has to make it look good.” Flesher shakes off the last of the cobwebs as Spike starts to move around a bit on the mat. Taamo grabs him by the hair, pulling him into a tight front headlock before he can recover. He ducks his head under and lifts Jenkins into the air, then holds him upside-down. He stalls… and stalls… “Look at the hang time,” marvels Riley. … and stalls.... until finally, Flesher drops to the mat, sending Jenkins headfirst to the mat with a brainbuster! Hollywood bounces off the mat and then collapses back down, where Flesher rolls onto him! He makes the cover, and Hardcastle makes the count. ONE!!! TWO!!!! THREE- NO!!!!!! “Jenkins gets his shoulder up!” says Comet. “Look at the sheer will!” The Superior One sneers at Hardcastle, holding up three fingers and shouting for him to ring the bell. Sexton shakes his head, standing his ground and holding up two fingers (and prompting a “TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” from the ever-trendy nearly-Canadian crowd). Flesher shrugs, as if to say, “I’ll show you what a three-count looks like.” He grabs his limp adversary by the waist and lifts him to his feet, then arches back for another explosive German suplex! Before he can complete the throw, though, Jenkins shifts his weight and rolls back! He lands on his feet behind Flesher, and in a heartbeat, jumps off the mat and clobbers Flesher with an enzuigiri! Tom staggers forward, taking one step… then another… and then flopping down onto his face, prompting a cheer from the crowd. Spike Jenkins, though, doesn’t have time to pop for the Flesher flop. He dives down onto Flesher, hitting him in the back of the head with a knee drop to stun him. Then, with a look of desperation on his face, Jenkins grabs Flesher and hooks him into a standing headscissors. The crowd pops for the possibility of Spike Defying the System, and he starts to lift Flesher up for the Styles Clash. Flesher sandbags, though, grabbing Jenkins by the leg and desperately hanging on to the mat! Spike struggles, trying to hit Flesher with the absolutely deadly move, but the Superior One digs down deep! He stands up, fully extending his body and sending Spike head over heels with a back body drop! The fans boo, disappointed that they won’t see Hollywood’s money move. Flesher, meanwhile, simply drops to his knees. “And there you see a man looking for his last refuge,” says Cyclone Comet. “It’s obvious that Tom Flesher neglected to put in the necessary time to train for Spike Jenkins, much less enough work to use Jenkins to prove a point to Toxxic. Jenkins, even injured as he is, has held his own, and both men are showing desperation!” “You,” says Riley, “are suck a dick.” Flesher backs into the ropes, his body battered. Spike starts to get to his feet, keeping up the pace that’s allowed him to stay competitive throughout the match. “Even when Spike Jenkins is hurting,” says Cyclone Comet, “he refuses to give up or show weakness. You have to admire that in a man like Hollywood.” “Even when he’s grossly outmatched, the boy keeps coming back for more,” yawns Riley. “What a smart guy.” Spike turns to face Flesher, but… WHACK!!!! The Superior One charges at him, hammering him with a Yakuza kick that sends the Cruiserweight Champion spilling to the mat! Spike collapses in a heap as Flesher overruns him! Flesher looks down at the mound of Jenkins, then drops down. He rolls the Cruiserweight Champion to his back and covers him, looking up at Sexton Hardcastle. The referee drops to the mat and counts ONE!!! TWO!!!!! THRE – NO!!!!!! “What intestinal fortitude being shown by the Cruiserweight Champion!” says Comet. “Not only is he showing outstanding resilience, but he’s doing so in the face of mindless, jabbering naysayers!” “What, so he gets a medal just for wrestling the match? That doesn’t make him anything special. That barely makes him qualified!” “Case in point.” Flesher sneers and shakes his head, disappointed that the Yakuza kick didn’t get the win. He backs away, allowing Jenkins to roll to his stomach to avoid another cover. Jenkins, slightly dazed, starts to push up to his feet. The challenger, waiting for an opening, hovers behind him. As Hollywood stands up, Flesher dives in behind him and grabs hm around the waist. He ducks his head under Jenkins’ left arm and stands up, lifting him off the mat. Then, with a powerful back arch, Flesher throws the champ backwards. Spike falls backwards, landing on the crown of his head as Flesher hits a picture-perfect backdrop driver! Jet shrieks in anger as Spike rolls over and lands on his stomach. She sprints over, pounding the apron by Spike’s head to try and awaken him. Flesher, though, simply rolls onto him. “Whelp, that’s gonna do it,” says Riley. “Get the commercial ready to run, and tell the nooblets they’re on.” With a smug grin, he makes the cover. Sexton Hardcastle drops in for the academic three-count. ONE!!! TWO!!!!! THREE!!!!!! “NO!!!” shouts Jet, quickly grabbing Spike’s leg and yanking it over the bottom rope. “HIS FOOT’S ON! ARE YOU BLIND?!” Hardcastle looks over and sees that Jenkins’ foot is, indeed, on the bottom rope. He waves off the fall, and the fans shower him with a chorus off boos. Allison Onita screams, slapping the apron and yelling to try to get Hardcastle to let the pin stand. Confused, unsure how to proceed, the official simply dusts off his hands and backs away. “What a miscarriage of justice!” bellows Riley. “You better believe that Sexton Hardcastle’s going to be in front of Alex Zenon’s desk tomorrow morning, begging to keep his job! I can’t believe he’s letting this crap stand!” “Well, be fair, Robert. Allison Onita is hardly a beacon of integrity.” “I’ll not have you besmirching the name of that woman! I demand satisfaction!” “Sadly, you’re in no position to get it.” Flesher looks down at Jet and shoos her away. Hardcastle, knowing that he has to be more careful than usual, watches her like a hawk as Flesher walks over and slowly scales the turnbuckles. Hardcastle watches Jet, who starts to climb onto the apron as Flesher gets to the top rope. “What the hell is she doing?!” Riley fumes. “She’s going to throw him off the top rope!” “Well, Spike will be penalized fairly with a disqualification loss,” says Comet. “But he’ll keep the title!” whines Riley. “Que sera sera.” As Jet leans over, though, Allison snags her ankle and yanks her off the apron! Flesher looks down and grins as Jet’s face hits the ring apron, and Spike slowly begins to get to his feet. Allison pulls Jet down onto the concrete and blocks her off, making sure she won’t be able to interfere, as Flesher grabs Jenkins’ long hair and pulls him to the corner! Flesher plants his knee in the back of Spike’s head, and even as the Cruiserweight Champ struggles to get free, the challenger is able to leap off the top rope and fall forward! He drives his knee forward, slamming the Rev-Zero member face-first into the canvas! “Ego Trip!” shrieks Riley. “And Jet’s not here to save him!” Flesher rolls Spike to his back and covers him, making sure to hook the leg to keep it off the ropes. Allison, meanwhile, keeps her vigil on Jet as Hardcastle drops in for the count! ONE!!! TWO!!!!! THREE!!!!!!! DING DING DING!!!! Flesher leaps off the canvas, pumping his fists. Allison slides into the ring, leaping into Tom’s arms and embracing him as Funyon makes the announcement. “Your winner,” he says, over the thundering boos, “and NEW Cruiserweight Champion… ‘The Superior One,’ TOM FLESHER!!!!” Allison raises Flesher’s left arm. Hardcastle brings the Cruiserweight Title over to Flesher and tries to raise his right arm, but Flesher shakes him off and snatches the belt. As Jenkins rolls out of the ring, still stunned from the Ego Trip, Flesher looks down with a smirk at the Cruiserweight Title belt. He turns around and, dragging the belt behind him, ducks out between the ropes. Allison follows right behind. “What a way to start the show!” says Riley, as Flesher drags the belt up the ramp. “Tom Flesher wins the Cruiserweight Championship, AND Spike Jenkins gets flattened! Man, it can only go downhill from here.” Comet coughs. “Do NOT change the channel, though,” he chides. “Two very exciting athletes will step into the ring, coming up next!” “Pfft… noobs,” scoffs Riley. “Don’t get your hopes up.” “Sometimes I wonder about you, Robert,” says Comet, as the show fades to commercial.

Card: MAIN EVENT NO DISQUALIFICATION NON TITLE MATCH Janus vs. Toxxic The PPV is right around the corner. Janus must face Toxxic and Tom Flesher with his precious World Championship on the line! But Toxxic squeaked a win past Flesher, and as a result he gets a chance to soften up Janus and formulate his strategy! These two gladiators meet in a what will be a preview of a tremendous main event at Ground Zero! Hey, and it's no DQ! In addition to the brutality this will hopefully engender you don't suppose Flesher might take an interest in this match, do you? Nah. Rules: no dq. no countout. falls count only in the ring. SINGLES MATCH Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix vs. Ace Lezaire Maddix has a top secret problem getting ready to jump all over him at Ground Zero. Ace Lezaire wants in to the ICTV division so bad he can freaking TASTE it. It seems to me that each man could be the answer to the other's prayers. A win over a former ICTV champ is just what Ace needs, and if Landon could decisively defeat as formidable a challenger as Ace, Johnny Dangerous would certainly sit up and take notice. Rules: Standard singles match. THE AT THIS POINT REQUISITE HANDICAP MATCH! Sean Davis vs. Ced Ordonez and Munich Sean Davis has seen Janus win two consecutive handicap matches. Sean Davis wants to be seen as every bit the force that Janus is. Sean Davis has decided that this is the way to go. Zed is not merciless though, and was unwilling to just sacrifice up two jobbers at random. No, instead Commissioner Zenon has offered Ced and Munich a chance for redemption from last week's BRUTAL beating at the hands of Janus. We know they can do it. The question now is, do they? Rules: normal rules. ced and munich must tag in and out. TAG MATCH Andrea Montgomery & The Birdman vs. THE WAYWARD SONS!!! (Edward James and Alan Clark) The unlikely pairing of Ms. Montgomery and the Birdman somehow got ahold of the tag contenderships! Well, let's see what they can really do as a tag team, or are they another slapdash random pairing of singles wrestlers? Sending them against an established tag team should help us determine that right shortly! Rules: Standard tag match. Use the tag ropes! USJL CONTENDERSHIP TABLES MATCH "The Icon" Max King vs. "The Corona" Vladimir Everheart Now, you are undoubtedly as confused as I am. Well, the Masked Man lost his title on Lockdown to Manson. He then stormed into Commissioner Zenon's office, throwing furniture around and DEMANDING to not get a rematch! Read that again. Ah... MM. What a card. Apparently he wants to put his entire effort into his newfound partnership with Todd Cortez. Well, the SWF marches on and we need someone to face Manson at the PPV! Enter two of our newest and brightest talents. They're being given the chance to shine, once they too throw some furniture around. Rules: no countouts, no dqs. first man to be put through a table loses. SINGLES MATCH "The Paladin" Chance Silver vs. Candace When noobs attack! Technical difficulties prevented Mr. Silver's match from being shown on Lockdown. With this being the last show before Ground Zero, if he wants to make an impression this is the time to do it! But our latest import form the East may have different ideas about that... Rules: Standard singles match. CRUISERWEIGHT TITLE MATCH "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins vs. "The Superior One" Tom Flesher And now, Spike will find out the downside of allying himself with the Straight-Edge Sensation! Flesher requested a match with Toxxic for this show to finally show the young upstart what's what, but Toxxic has, shall we say, other problems tonight. Not to be placated, Flesher then demanded a shot at Jenkins! Tom plans to send a message loud and clear to Toxxic through the broken and bruised body of his compatriot. Spike Jenkins faces the most dangerous challenge of his entire career, tonight on Smarkdown! And if by some miracle he should defeat Flesher, one of the greatest champions the SWF has ever known... well, the spectre of Austin Sly waits for him on the horizon... Rules: Standard singles match. Well, except for one tiny little thing... Toxxic is barred from ringside.

We begin with an up close shot of the USJL Championship slung over someone's shoulder. The camera pulls out to reveal Manson, to the cheers and chants of the Portland, Maine crowd! Adorned in his standard outfit, in addition to a black leather jacket, and bandage around his knee, Manson hurriedly walks through the Cumberland County Civic Center, appearing to be searching for someone. In this scene previous to SWF Smarkdown, the bowels of the arena are filled with activity. Staffers running every which way, wrestlers exercising and getting ready for their matches, however even among the busy atmosphere, a highly tense and distressed Commissioner Alex Zenon stands out among them, as he goes over a clipboard in some random hallway. "ALEX!" shouts Manson. Zenon looks up from a clipboard, wondering what Manson could want, as he walks over to him. "We've gotta talk…" Manson says fervently. "I'm listening, but make it quick…" Zenon replies. "You know I've been working with this knee injury lately, and because of that, you're gonna have to give me Smarkdown off…" says Manson, as some boos from the crowd can be heard. "Hm?!" murmurs Zenon, puzzled. "Well, as much as I'd like to wrestle tonight, if you want a healthy champion walking into Ground Zero, making the most of it and walking back out with the belt, you're gonna have to give me this show off to rest my leg." "That's a very good point, and as much as I want you involved tonight… your request is granted…" replies Zenon, as he turns his attention back to the clipboard in his hand. "Great. I appreciate it…" says Manson, who begins to walk off, only to hear Zenon once again. "And by the way, I'm sure you're interested… A USJL Contendership Match has been booked for tonight… Max King versus Vladimir Everheart in a Tables Match… Have a nice show off…" Zenon says smugly. Manson bristles and snarls at the mere mention of the two, gripping his belt tighter before continuing on, as we… FADE OUT

The success of a stable depends wholly on its leader's ability to motivate the other members and generally create a presence for the stable in the fed. It's more than just winning matches, it's being able to promo, get involved in angles and generally make as many waves as possible. Toxxic's trying hard to do that, and this is a good promo, but I think Revolution Zero has two roadblocks to pass before it becomes a truly formidable force that can hang around with the stable history the SWF has. One is some kind of missing part, and two is a real enemy. We'll see how things come together after the PPV, though. -Z

Indeed. This tag team angle really came out of no-where, but it's becoming one of the most interesting threads going into the PPV. Solid promo that furthers everything a little. -Z

Wow, tons of transactions. I can't fathom this game's penchant for having teams trade away young players so often, though, but meh. So now it's possible I get to endure through Kostka's pain... interesting. -Z

Well, maybe for the guy getting tooled... -Z

WC... it's a long story. And this was only an hour's work. I think we need to prepare some kind of marathon tooling using alternating teams that lasts about six hours. -Z

::ahem!:: You fucked up! You fucked up! You fucked up! -Z

Ah, much ado about nothing. Some thing never change. It's the freaking HOLT report, guys. Jesus. It's been relevant to storylines all of one time. -Z

It should always be remembered that strength stats are hardly binding, and tend to function on a sliding scale based on the leverage someone would logically have. Stats aren't gospel, and shouldn't be followed as such. I find style to be a more important guideline to how a character should act and what their limits are in the ring. -Z

Uh, people... you know the show's today, right? You know we cannot delay this one long, right? You know that I have one match, and Thoth has none? This isn't looking rosy. -Z

Kotz never actually joined, no. He thought about it, but never followed through because of the whole matchwriting idea. It remains too weird and different for most people. To answer some other questions futher... 1. Tom was born and raised in Buffalo, NY, as far as I know. 2. Thoth pretty much summed it up; Crowe and Muzz, for as much as they're around, are the two longest serving ops besides Crusen himself. It's just harkening back to when Crusen opped whoever the hell he wanted to instead of who was capable, as there wasn't a whole lot of real moderating needing to be done in 2001. 5. Dude, frankly, you've got too much time on your hands if you can be fucked to dig that stuff up. 6. No, but they DID have a lesbian orgy in chat once, with two other girls. I think I still have the log. 8. In addition, I think the guy who started it got banned, too. He originally made the SCW because he was actually refused from the SWF, back when we could afford to be stingy assholes about recruits. 9. Crusen did actually have a ringer character WHILE HE WAS A BOOKER way back when named "Zio," but no, he wasn't Fugue. 10. It was leftover from when he first started the character, at which point he posted everything in character. The in character stuff faded away over time, but the gimmick remained. It sort of like how I sign all my posts with "-Z." I originally did it because I didn't think anyone would know who I am, and I just keep it up out of habbit, now. 11. Just in case you don't believe Thoth, yes, that really happened, yes, he did, and yes, he beat Tom Flesher for the JL world title. 13. Irresistable asshole vs the immovable idiot. I'll leave it up to you to figure out who's who. 16. Put me down for G0R0, too. He'll eat anything. Anything. 17. Yeah, and I was as shocked as you, too. 19. There'd be some static, but yes. I'm sure I could alleviate the problem if I kicked Thoth to the curb and gave Stubby his booking job. -Z

Alright, I've uploaded the file to my own webspace at http://members.shaw.ca/reality55check/thothreport71904.mp3 This'll be the only one I can host, I'm not sure what my download bandwitdh is and this definitely won't last, so get it while you can. -Z

Type /server irc.phazenet.com whenever it does that. It'll connect you to a different server. -Z

God help America. -Z

I can't believe you only traded Henderson for one player. You'd figure he'd be worth that pictcher, maybe one or two good role players, two first round picks and a second round pick, or something similiar. Anyway. Props for coming through with the update, Duran, although the new stats listing is a little crowded. -Z

I'm sorry to hear that, IL. And note that the card has been edited with Martin Hunt's stipulation choice. I'm gathering that Landon, however, intends to keep his a secret. -Z

IGNWF = Internet Generation Network Wrestling Federation. The fed was based on IGN.com before it moved here. And Rando... I personally believe this move was entierly justifiable for a variety of reasons, not the least of which being that it isn't anywhere on Janus' movelist, and using wrestling logic, it's not as powerful as when Kibagami would be preforming it. And before you say anything, it makes sense for Janus to be able to use the Demonstar, on the theory that Janus' MPD and his entire violent personality is the result of Kibagami -- a fact that is occasionally glossed over, as Janus hasn't relied too heavily on his character background for angles. Furthermore, as far as I'm concerned, it makes sense for him to break out the move in the match he's in; a two-on-one that forshadows his upcoming title defense, which is likely to be a three way, against entierly untrustworthy and conniving opponents. In winning the match, he not only displays the raw power and hatred that Tom and Toxxic are going to have to contend with in the future, but he gets pinfall using the most feared move in SWF history, which sends a very clear message and further reaffirms the fact Janus is utterly incapable of showing mercy. As for the fact that Clark's gotten the short end of the stick twice, well, that's an unfortunate coincidence. -Z

The Smartmarks' Wrestling Federation Presents... A VERY SPECIAL SWF STORM! LIVE, SATURDAY JULY 17th, FROM THE SOLD OUT HSBC ARENA IN BUFFALO, NEW YORK! (5pm PCT, 8pm EST; check local listings) OPENING PROMO: Revolution Zero (Toxxic, Spike Jenkins and Sean Davis) These three men, in their new alliance, went two-for-three on the last show, which ain't half bad. On top of that, Spike Jenkins laid claim to the SWF Crusierweight title, which both establishes Toxxic's new 'friends' as competitors, and says something about Toxxic's leadership if he can turn Holly into a champion. No doubt these three will have more to say, Toxxic especially about tonight's main event. Card: MAIN EVENT SINGLES MATCH "The Superior One" Tom Flesher vs Toxxic (Special Guest Commentator: Janus) Well, you knew this one was coming, eh? Toxxic and Tom Flesher are, to the chagrin of both men, dual number one contenders to Janus' SWF title. The world champ has been back off suspention for a show now, but he has yet to be booked against either man in a defense... and tonight, that remains, as both men fight with the champ on the commentary table. Rules: Singles match. Janus is strongly encouraged to write as well. Word Limit: 6001 Send To: Thoth ICTV TITLE BOUT LANDON'S DISGRESSION STIP Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix© vs Johnny Dangerous Johnny wants nothing more than to permanently cement himself into the uppercard, and Landon wants nothing more than to cement his reputation as one of the best in the SWF. Either could come a lot closer to happening, depending on the winner of this match here. Rules: Landon's choice. Best speak up fast, son! Word Limit: 6000 Send To: Grand Slam TAG TEAM TITLE BOUT 42nd Street©* (Todd Cortez & The Masked Man) vs Spike Jenkins & Sean Davis MVS is soaking up some Hawaiin sun, and at the most inoppertune time, as his vacation began just a few shows before a scheduled defense of the tag team titles. Disgruntledly, Todd Cortez has been left to take care of the belts, and whether he likes it or not, he's going to have to defend them. Mercifully, he's been allowed to pick his own partner, the inscrutable Masked Man, as they toe-to-toe with Spike Jenkins and Sean Davis. If they lose, it could very well be Mike's head when he gets back. This story, however, will be no less interesting if Cortez and MM retain... Rules: Word Limit: 6000 Send To: Suicide King * = Not 'official' champions SINGLES MATCH Ace Lezaire vs Dace Night Dace Night has made it abundantly clear that he intends to reimmerse himself into the world title scene. However unfortunately, with two contenders lined up and one obvious date looking to be the place and time of the defense, Dace may have to play the waiting game for a while. And if the man he's facing now could have his way, he may never get the oppertunity. Ace Lezaire is desperate for elevation, and a victory over Dace Night would be a damn strong case for another chance at something like the ICTV... Rules: Singles match. Word Limit: 5750 Send To: Grand Slam SUBMISSIONS MATCH Jamie Drazon vs Alan Clark A certain former hardcore champion's current run has not gotten off quite to the start that he wanted it to. JD has been marred in a cold streak for some time now, and now he's been given the oppertunity to break out of it against another man on a skid, Alan Clark. In many cases, perhaps the stable name "Wayward Sons" couldn't have been more apt... although 'Backward' work count after the amount of bending that's bound to happen in this match. Rules: The man who gives up to a submission is teh l0se. No rules otherwise. Word Limit: 5750 Send To: realitycheck FATAL FOUR WAY USJL TITLE #1 CONETENDERSHIP "The Icon" Max King vs Munich vs vs Manson vs Ced Ordonez Ced Ordonez was a surprise opponent for Tom Flesher on last show, and he carries over the momentum against the impressive Max King, and the rather stagnant Munich and Manson. Everyone has a chance to really define themselves from the rest of the midcard heap with a victory here. Rules: First pin wins; in the case of a countout or DQ, however, that person is eliminated from the match. Only a pinfall or submission will win. Word Limit: 5000 Send To: Kibagami HARDCORE TITLE BOUT PI KAPP HARDCORE MATCH Ryan Dustin© vs Martin "Big Country" Hunt Hunt earned his shot at the hardcore title some time ago, and now he cashes in against the Real Deal. It's a pretty straightforward kinda' thing. Rules: The match takes place in the residence of the Pi Kappa Phi fraternity house, meaning if brothers choose to help, then so be it, any weapons go, and first one to catch a pinfall wins. Word Limit: 4750 Send To: Suicide King SINGLES MATCH The Birdman vs Andrea Montgomery Squack. The decidedly odd but none-the-less impressive Birdman debuted last show, and now the tables are TURNED~ as he takes on returning IGNWF verteran, the lovely Andrea Montgomery, in what should be a fun match. Rules: Singles match. Word Limit: 4000 Send To: realitycheck SINGLES MATCH Edward James vs "The Corona" Vladimir Everheart The hard-nosed, hard-luck Eddy J opens up Storm tonight against Vladimir Everheart, he of the Castlevania-sounding name, in his sophmore effort. Rules: Singles match. Word Limit: 3500 Send To: Thoth

The IGN boards are divided into different sections (ie: PS2, GCN, XBOX, TV/Movies, Community, Sports, etc), and from there, further subdivided into more specific things (ie: The sports board is broken up into Hockey, Football, Soccer, Basketball, Baseball, etc). Every section has a 'Community' board; the IGNWF had its board in the wrestling section, and many IGNWFers posted on the WCB (Wrestling Community Board). G and TBS were two of them, and thus, that's how Sly knows them. Crowe came to the SWF through the WCB as well. -Z

I have no real excuses for why the show is up this late. Sometimes, I flake, y'know? To make up for it, and Storm being the four-day show, you'll get an extra day to write. As for the show itself, it looks pretty good, minus the two missing matches. I'll try to get the card up ASAP. -Z

SWF Lockdown is back on the air in three. Two. One. "RRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!" As the cameras of SWF Smarkdown explode into life, the Mellon Arena of Pittsburgh Pennsylvania is shown filled to the brim with screaming and cheering fans! As the cameras pan up and down the many rows, from ringside to rafters, the people clearly show their excitement to be here with the raucous noise. The signs are out in force, from "Ebony > WC!" to "Too Much Maddix!" to "Big Country? Big C--t!". Of course, that's just a small sample. And as the camera swings down towards the ring, we're treated to a trio of signs about the World Title scene: "Toxxic Fears Flesher", "Flesher Fears Toxxic", and "Janus Fears Nothing". And then we're greeted by the ever excited face of everyone's favourite superhero... "I'M CYCLOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE COMET! And welcome back to SWF Smarkdown, citizens and fans! It's been a hectic ride so far tonight, with two men in bird suits facing off, Citizen Flesher fighting Citizen Ordonez, and mysterious newcomer Citizen Everheart going to school with Citizen Manson!" "I of course am Bobby Riley." the ambigiously gay co-announcer adds. "Pay no attention to the guy in spandex." "Don't be ridiculous, Robert! It's been a terribly exciting night so far, and it's time for our positively spectacular main event!" "Did someone slip sugar into your Comet Crunchies this morning?" Riley groans. "Janus makes his return from suspension in a HANDICAP match, clearly a move by Commissioner Zenon to weaken the almighty beast. But Janus is going to completely TEAR these two apart!" "We shall see, as the Hell Machine has never truely faired well in a one on two environment, unlike yourself!" Bobby Riley can sense SOME sort of jab at him there, and he gives Comet a long and studious look. But the superhero isn't giving anything away as he waves to the fans, and so the ambigiously gay co-announcer sits back with a sigh. The camera pans to the ring, where Funyon stands as always in his dapper tuxedo, lifting his microphone to his lips. The opening riffs of a song begin to echo through the arena, as the announcer begins his spiel. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your main event! It is scheduled for ONE fall, under HANDICAP rules, where the handicap team MUST tag in and out of the match! Introducing first, from Redwater Alberta Canada and Long Beach California...." *BOOOOOOOOOOM!* The song is none other than "Carry On Wayward Son" and a pair of green flares explode from the stage, arcing into the air as a pair of figures stride from backstage to stand in the single spotlight. The crowd lets the duo have it with cheers as they stand hanging their heads, silently, as if frozen in the spotlight. "Standing at six-foot-seven and six-foot one respectively, at a combined FIVE hundred and ONE pounds! They are Edward James and Alan Clark....the WAAAAAAAAYWAAAAAAAARD SOOOOOOOONS!" "Carry on my wayward sons... There’ll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don’t you cry no more..." Finally, amidst the raucous fan noise, Edward James and Alan Clark stride determinedly down the ramp, occasionally slapping hands with the fans. The two roll under the bottom rope and into the ring, standing back to back and facing opposite turnbuckles. As they bow their heads once more, four more flares shoot into the air - one from each ringpost - arcing high into the rafters as the sound of "Carry On Wayward Son" fades out. Clark and James lift their heads and wave to the fans, then turn to each other to start discussing tactics. "Citizens James and Clark discussing what tactics they might use tonight, Robert..." "They won't last too long, Comet, you just watch." "And why is that, Bobbo?" Comet queries. "Because he's heee~eeere!" Riley sing-songs. All the lights in the arena fade, plunging the place into near blackness. And lights began to flash around the Smarktron - red, ominous, dangerous - as the loud sound of a buzzing siren shreds the air. The crowd begins to boo as a word begins to flash repeatedly on the Smarktron, a word that is slowly but surely coming into focus. And finally, just as the word is readable, the siren stops... and a bell tolls. [sTATUS: RELEASED!] "Consumed with memories... That preceded today... Given a chance to bereave... Life that's slipping AWAY!" As blue pyrotechnic fountains sprinkle up on either side of the ramp, the sound of Fear Factory's "Resurrection" blares from the speakers. The fans simply boo and watch the curtain intently, as it ruffles and is swept aside. White trenchcoat flowing behind him, equally white hair slightly obscuring bloody red eyes, the Hell Machine appears. The World Title is slung over his shoulder, and the spotlight follows him on his path to the ring. "And their opponent! Returning from suspension, standing at seven-foot-two and weighing THREE hundred and SIXTY pounds! He is the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIIIIIION.....THE HELL MACHINE! JAAAAAAAAANUUUUUUUUUUUUUUS!" "Revive all my fears! Revive wasted tears! Revive void within! Revive once again!" Each pyrotechnic blue fountain has gone out as the Hell Machine strides by, and he steps around the ring with a deadly grace that belies his size. He lays the World Title on the timekeeper's table, then shrugs off his trenchcoat. There is no sign of injury, no knee brace, no nothing, as the giant strides up the stairs and steps over the top rope. On the opposite side of the ring, Alan Clark and Edward James watch with a mixture of foolhardy courage and trepidation, as the monster of a man thrusts his arms in the air. *BOOOOOOOM!* The lights flash back up as pillars of blue fire explode from all four turnbuckles, heralding the end of "Resurrection". Referee Mark Hebner looks nervously up at the clearly vitalised Janus, then motions both the Wayward Sons and the Hell Machine closer to quietly explain the rules. Popping his neck and stepping back afterwards, the seven footer simply folds his arms and stares a hole through his opposition. Clark and James discuss again, and then Alan moves to the apron as Hebner calls for the bell. *DING DING DING!* "And the Wayward Sons seeking to use the youthful energy and strength of Citizens James against the established power of Citizen Janus!" "Oh, please, Comet!" Riley snorts. "No one can face Janus down in a test of strength and you know it." Regardless of Riley's words, that's exactly what Edward appears to be doing. He lifts his arms in the air and wiggles his fingers, and the Hell Machine raises a curious eyebrow. Unfolding his arms, the giant lifts his own hands and steps forward, and in the center of the ring, James and Janus lock hands. And the crowd begins to cheer for the bigger of the Wayward Sons as it comes to pass that he's actually standing his ground! Locked in a test of strength with the Hell Machine, James appears to be able to match the giant in sheer power... and so Janus just snaps his head forward to crush Edward's face with a headbutt! The crowd boos as the rookie powerhouse's arms slacken, and the Hell Machine slams another headbutt into his opponent's face. Shaking his head, James tries to pull back, but the world champion is going to teach this youngster a lesson about standing his ground. Releasing one of Edward's arms, the Hell Machine reaches down and swings him up into a torture rack, and doesn't pause to wrench the back. Instead, he simply throws James out in front of him and drops into a sitout powerbomb! Rather than hold it for a pin, the giant rises to his feet and grins viciously, before turning to point at Clark as if saying he's next. This of course means he doesn't see James getting up while holding his back and hit the ropes... ...and he turns around to take a lumbering big boot to the chest! But the Hell Machine only stumbles backwards, nearly toppling, but keeping his balance. Angered that the young James would attack him so, the giant charges forward only to be lifted into the air and PLANTED with a painful looking powerslam! Edward hooks the leg, but before Hebner can even count one the Hell Machine thrusts his arm into the air. Wanting to retain his advantage in the early going, James starts raining stomps down on the seven foot world champion. Slowly beginning to rise under the barrage, Janus makes it to his knees before Edward changes tactics and hooks his arms! Before he can hit anything however, the Hell Machine tears his arms free and lifts James into the air to SNAP him down again with a high-angle spinebuster! "And the rookie is getting his ass beat. How not-surprising." Riley yawns. "Citizen James may have made a grievous error wanting to stand his ground with a wrestler bigger AND far more experienced..." Comet muses. "Oh, gee, you think?" Riley snickers. "I don't think Citizen James has ever met someone who can match his strength... he'll need to use whatever speed he has." Stalking across the ring, the Hell Machine hunches next to the ropes, staring intently at the rising Edward James. Rolling over and holding his back with one hand, the rookie powerhouse begins to push himself up when he spots his titanic opponent out of the corner of his eye. Launching himself off the ropes, Janus lowers his shoulder to pulverise Edward's ribcage, but James dives aside. The Hell Machine straightens up as his momentum carries him towards Alan Clark on the apron... and Clark uses the ropes as a spring to lift himself up and enzugiri the Hell Machine! Landing on the apron again, Alan looks innocent as the fans cheer. Dazed, Janus slowly turns away from the ropes... and is avalanched into the Wayward Sons corner by Edward James! The rookie powerhouse instantly lashes out with a knife-edge chop, smacking it against the seven footer's chest. *SMACK!* "WHOOOOOO!" *SMACK!* "WHOOOOOOOO!" After the second chop, James takes a few steps back and charges forward again, connecting with a STIFF clothesline that slams the Hell Machine back into the turnbuckles. He slaps Alan's hand and Hebner signifies a tag, as James grabs armfuls of dazed Janus and scoops him up and over in another hard powerslam! At the same moment, as Edward rolls out of the ring, Clark launches himself off the top rope and crashes down on the seven footer's chest with a frog splash before hooking the leg! "And Citizen Janus takes a One Way Trip!" Comet laughs. "To where?" Riley raises an eyebrow. "To the Den of DEFEAT, Robert!" "Oh, you WISH." Riley snorts. Hebner drops down and the fans eagerly count along. ONE! ... .... .....KICKOUT! Alan scratches his head almost thoughtfully as the overwhelmed Hell Machine kicks out of the move, then shrugs and runs for the ropes, looking for a lionsault. Janus rolls towards Clark as he springs back, and the smaller member of the Wayward Sons lands precariously on his feet before stumbling forward after the rising monster. The Hell Machine wards his opponent off with a huge right fist that misses by a mere centimetre, Clark reeling back to avoid the danger. This allows the seven footer to regain his vertical base, and Alan bolts in for the attack, ducking under a rolling lariat attempt. He bounces off the ropes as the Hell Machine spins around, leaping up into the air and locking his legs for a hurricanrana attempt. But like so many smaller men before, Alan Clark finds the danger in trying to rana a seven footer. Janus simply grabs him and POWERBOMBS him down into the mat. Following up with his own lumbering run to the ropes, the Hell Machine comes stomping back and flings his leg out to compact Clark's chest with a huge legdrop. Alan jerks and wheezes as the air is squashed out of his lungs, and offers a little resistance in the form of weak punches as Janus drags him up by the hair. A huge right hand clamps around his throat and cuts that minor offense off, and the smaller half of the Wayward Sons finds himself going up and being SLAMMED back down into the mat with a vicious looking chokeslam. But the Hell Machine doesn't let go - he drags Clark right back up - and throws the smaller man callously into the corner occupied by Edward James. The rookie powerhouse looks at the battered Clark, then at the waiting, viciously grinning Janus. "Heavens have mercy, Robert! Citizen Janus just pummelled Citizen Clark in a few swift moves, and now he wants Citizen James to come back into the ring!" "Clark's not worth being a smudge on his boot, Comet." Riley smiles with superiority. "Janus wants an actual challenge, as much as some pathetic rookie can offer." "Underestimation can be a dangerous game, Robert..." Comet warns. Looking between the self-confident monster and his easily battered partner, Edward James grits his teeth and slaps Clark's shoulder. Mark Hebner instantly signifies a tag, and Alan simply slumps against the turnbuckle as the rookie powerhouse steps into the ring to confront the Hell Machine. And with a lion's roar, he charges forward at the bigger man! Ducking under the heavy swing of the Knuckle Bomb, he reaches up with both hands to grab the monsterous world champion by the throat. Janus instantly grabs Edward's hands, but the rookie roars again and lifts the big man off the mat, before dropping down into a choke bomb! The crowd roars in approval as James climbs back to his feet, and doesn't relent on the assault. Wrapping his fingers in white hair, James pulls the bigger man up to his feet and slings him into the ropes. When Janus comes rumbling back, he finds himself being lifted into the air for a military press, before being dropped down over Edward's knee! Almost literally bouncing off said knee, the Hell Machine hits the mat and holds his stomach, coughing and grimacing. The rookie powerhouse follows up his attack by dropping a big elbow into the Hell Machine's ribs, then tangles fingers in the bigger man's white hair again. Beginning to drag him up, Edward James locks on a front facelock and starts to lift Janus into the air. Arms twitching, the rookie manages to complete the beginning of a vertical suplex... ...stall... ...stall some more... ....and he spins around, before hooking a leg and SLAMMING the Hell Machine spine-first into the ground with a painful looking stalling jackhammer! The crowd pops for the move as James leans over Janus' torso, keeping the leg hooked and his eyes and weight on his opponent's shoulders. Mark Hebner is instantly there to make a count, as the crowd cheers some more. ONE! ... .... ..... TWO!! ....KICKOUT!! "Citizen James showing some of his rage at seeing his tag partner brutalised so easily, Robert! He's been working like a demon on Citizen Janus' back!" "All that will come to nothing, Comet." Riley snorts. "No little rookie is going to keep the Hell Machine down." "I'd hardly call someone of Citizen James' size little, Robert. But Citizen Janus seems to be reeling and feeling the impact on his back, because he doesn't seem in a hurry to get up!" Indeed, the Hell Machine simply lays on the mat with a grimace, as Edward James stands up again to a small ovation from the crowd. Ignoring the monster for a moment, James moves over to his corner, where Clark has climbed back out onto the apron and looks less than one hundred percent. The rookie powerhouse checks on his veteran partner's condition, and when Clark confirms he's okay, Edward turns around to continue the fight with the Hell Machine. Of course, the big boot he gets to the face kills that idea, and the rookie hits the mat as Janus looms over him! Rather than focus on the powerhouse of the team, the Hell Machine lashes out with a stiff fist at Clark on the apron, and the smaller man jumps down to avoid being decapitated. This gives the Hell Machine the space he needs to drag James from the ground and straight up into the air with a gorilla press. Holding the quivering rookie above his head, Janus stares down at the floor where Alan Clark watches, moving carefully from side to side. And in full view of the fans and his tag partner, Edward James goes flying over the top rope to go crashing into the floor, narrowly missing Alan Clark! The fans boo momentously as the rookie powerhouse slams into the thin mats, and Clark instantly goes to check on his partner. The Hell Machine paces around the ring, pressing one hand against his back and growling something at Mark Hebner. The referee nods with a slightly fearful look and begins making a ten count. ONE! "Citizen James has taken a dreadful spill there, Robert. I wonder if he's alive enough to get back in the ring?" "He should just stay down. It'll keep him and his pansy-ass partner alive, Comet." TWO! It's doubtful that either of the Wayward Sons hear the words of Riley and Comet, as Alan attempts to help Edward up. The rookie powerhouse grits his teeth, holding his ribcage with one arm, as he wraps his other around Clark's shoulders and tries to stand. In the ring, Janus stops his pacing and watches the struggling team pull itself upright. THREE! As Clark and James move back towards the ring, the Hell Machine suddenly begins to smile. It's not pleasant at all, and he takes another look at the two Wayward Sons as they move towards the apron. And then he lumbers across the ring, hitting the opposite ropes. "Oh, this isn't going to be pretty." Comet winces. "Huh? Oh...holy CRAP!" Riley shrieks. FOUR! Just as Hebner counts four, a white-haired shape rumbles past him and with a massive lunge, dives over the TOP rope. Huge arms extended like a pair of wings, the three hundred and sixty pound Hell Machine soars out of the ring! Alan Clark and Edward James barely have time to register the flying behemoth before he crashes into them with a massive diving double clothesline, sending all three men crashing down to the mat and forcing Hebner to restart the count as the fans chant. "HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!" ONE! "Great merciful Zeus and Odin, Citizen Janus may have just murdered his two opponents, Robert!" "And what better way for the Wayward Sons to die?" Riley cackles. "He also makes a point here, Robert. Citizen Janus will do whatever it takes - including flying to the outside, something he hardly ever does - to win the match with Citizens Flesher and Toxxic." Comet murmurs. TWO! As the fans continue their fecal chant, the Hell Machine grimaces and begins pulling himself upright. He holds his back with one hand, as spread out before him, both Alan Clark and Edward James groan in pain. Stumbling a little, Janus reaches his vertical base and reaches down again, dragging Clark up and into a gorilla press. THREE! The non-legal member of the Wayward Sons soars over the top rope and crashes down into the mat. Edward James is somewhat luckier, as the Hell Machine simply rolls him under the bottom rope to break the count. Following Edward in, Janus smiles as he looks down at the rookie powerhouse, before reaching down and clamping his hand over James' face. As Mark Hebner attempts to assist Alan Clark back to the apron, Edward lashes out blindly and punches the Hell Machine square in the testicular area! The crowd 'oooooo's in somewhat sympathetic pain as Janus reels back, clutching his poor punished bits. The seven foot world champion ends up leaning against one turnbuckle, as Mark Hebner helps Clark onto the apron and Edward James begins using the ropes to help himself up. Shaking his head and holding his ribs, the rookie powerhouse reels over to the stunned Hell Machine and slams a knee into his stomach, before hooking both arms, lifting, and falling back. The double-arm DDT spikes Janus almost right on his dome, and with a weary sort of fire in his eyes, James hooks the leg. ONE! ... .... ..... TWO!! ... .... .....KICKOUT!! "Citizen Janus best watch himself, Robert! He's not invincible!" "Oh, puh-f<beep>ing-lease, Comet. The only reason that was close was because James cheated and punched Janus in his manly bits!" "I will neither confirm nor deny that I saw Edward James use notorious tactics, Robert." The action in the ring is remarkably lacking as the commentators debate. Janus pulls himself up into the corner and winces, holding his manly parts, while Edward rubs his face and rolls away towards his corner to recuperate. Alan Clark, battered as he is, holds out his hand for a tag, and with a surprised look on his face, James takes it. The rookie powerhouse rolls out of the ring as Clark hops into the ring, wincing and stretching a little. Seeing the Hell Machine beginning to rise in the corner, the smaller member of the Wayward Sons darts forward and does a quick cartwheel before flinging his legs out in a dropkick that smashes into the Hell Machine's stomach! "And Citizen Clark makes a comeback with the One Hit Kill!" Comet calls. The sudden impact so close to his groin forces Janus to double over, and that's just enough for Clark to wrap his arms around the behemoth's head in a front facelock. Taking a chance, he pulls the Hell Machine a small distance out of the corner, and lifts his free arm. Before the seven footer can counter into a spinebuster or similar move, Alan spins around and takes him down with a spinning neckbreaker! The crowd begins cheering once more for the Wayward Sons as Clark hits yet another signature move. "Followed by the Wayward Fate!" the superhero continues. "Oh, god. Janus, are you ASLEEP in there?! KILL HIM!" Riley yells. Vitalised by his successful attack, the smaller member of the Wayward Sons runs to the ropes and bounces back, jumping into the air, flipping backwards and crashing down over the Hell Machine's ribs! The crowd lets out a ragged roar, but Mark Hebner doesn't drop down to count, pointing to the fact that the big Australian's long legs are under the bottom rope. The crowd boos, but Clark just throws his hands up and shrugs before standing up and grabbing one huge arm to drag the Hell Machine away from the ropes, holding his ribs with the other. "Citizen Clark hits three of his signature moves - the One Hit Kill, the Wayward Fate, and the Tumbleweed Shooting Star Press, and I dare say the combined impact may have blasted the air out of the world champion!" "Don't be ridiculous." Riley snorts, though he doesn't sound confident. "All three men have got to be hurting, but the Wayward Sons are in clear control of the match!" Comet continues. Taking deep and rasping breaths, Alan looks down at the Hell Machine and stops his dragging to hurry back to his corner, say something inaudible to Edward James, and tag the rookie powerhouse back into the match. James nods and steps into the ring as Clark moves out to the apron. Also holding his ribs, Edward grabs the world champion's arm and drags him over to the Wayward Sons corner. As Janus shakes his head and starts recovering from Clark's earlier attack, he finds himself pushed chest-first into the corner, and Alan locking on a front facelock. Standing on the second rope, the smaller half of the Wayward Sons suspends the Hell Machine's head over the top turnbuckle. In the ring, Edward James keeps Janus from straightening up or using his arms to escape, and Alan drops down, smashing the skull of the Hell Machine into the hard steel of the top turnbuckle with the Scenic Driver! At the same time, James lets go, and the Hell Machine straightens up and stumbles back woozily, clutching his head with both hands and spinning in a slow, confused circle. Out of the corner of his eye, the Hell Machine sees a double image of Edward James hitting the ropes and launching himself forward with a Maori Badass-esque lariat... ...and the world champion kills the rookie powerhouse's momentum dead with a right hand straight to the face! The Knuckle Bomb stops Edward James in his tracks, and with a stunned look not unlike a deer in headlights, the larger half of the Wayward Sons takes about two steps back before crumpling to the mat. The Hell Machine follows suite, dropping to his knees and holding his head in his hands. A faint trickle of blood is visible between his gloved fingers as, shaking his head viciously, the giant crawls forward to hook the leg of his opponent. ONE! ... .... ..... TWO!! ... .... ..... THREEEEEEEBROKENUPBYCLARK! A quick kick to the side of the Hell Machine's head stops the count, and as James lolls on the mat and vainly tries to keep his wits about him, Alan Clark returns to the apron while shouting challenging remarks at the seven foot world champion. Janus is not one to back down to a challenge, and much like he did before, the scatterbrained monster heaves Edward James off the mat and throws him into the Wayward Sons corner. Clark doesn't waste time tagging in, clearly pumped up as he dances from side to side, watching the Hell Machine's slow movements. It's the world champion who moves first, spinning to fire off a rolling lariat. But the challenger, sore but vitalised, ducks under the swinging arm and dashes for the ropes. Knowing Clark has to come back, Janus swings around with his right hand outstretched, prepared to demolish Alan's face like he had Edwards. But the smaller half of the Wayward Sons sensed that coming too, and he again ducks under the giant's attack. The behemoth begins to turn, but he's far too slow as Clark bounces again, sliding low to dropkick the Hell Machine's left knee. Janus drops down, and Alan rolls to continue his dash to the ropes, coming back to the half-downed giant... ...and just CRACKING him in the forehead with a stinging dropkick! The big man's head snaps back from the impact, and he half-rises before stumbling back against the ropes. He presses one hand to his forehead as Clark once more bounces to his feet, breathing heavily and awaiting the Hell Machine's next move. The giant lifts his gloved hand from his face, and the trickle caused by the Scenic Driver has become a stream thanks to the smaller Wayward Son's hard kick. Blood stains the big man's forehead, trickling down either side of his nose and around his eyes. Seeing the angry gleam lighting up in those red eyes, Alan Clark realises he may have just made a terrible mistake. "The Scenic Driver left its mark, and it seems Citizen Clark's vicious dropkick has made the mark even bigger! The world champion is openly bleeding!" Comet shills. "Uh, Comet, as much as I like Janus, that's probably not a good thing." "Blood loss CAN make it easier for the bleeder to lose a match, Robert." "Blood loss can also p<bleep> off giant psychopathic Australians." the ambiguously gay co-announcer responds. As the Hell Machine stalks towards Clark, promising only death with those gleaming red eyes, the smaller half of the Wayward Sons considers his last will and testament. He glances towards his corner, where Edward James is still slumped in the turnbuckle and trying to gather his wits, with Mark Hebner trying to help the rookie powerhouse back to the apron. He flicks his eyes back to Janus just as a huge hand reaches out to wrap around his face, clamping on an iron-claw-esque hold. Alan screams in pain as he feels his face being compressed, and the scream only gets louder as the seven foot world champion lifts him off the mat. He suspends Clark in the air for several moments, held up only by his face, before slamming the challenging little man back down into the mat. The Hell Machine considers going for a pin, but his gaze follows where Clark's had gone earlier. With a snarl on his face, the seven footer storms over to the corner, 'politely' brushing Mark Hebner aside and clamping his hands around the throat of Edward James. Bodily lifting the rookie powerhouse into the air, Janus almost gently puts James over the top rope and on the apron before rearing back to punch him straight off with another Knuckle Bomb! But the dazed rookie ducks under the swing, using a textbook counter by swinging his body between the top and middle ropes to shoulder the Hell Machine's stomach. Reeling back with a grunt, the seven foot Australian moves forward to brutalise the crosseyed, battered rookie... ...only to find Mark Hebner waving his arms and yelling at the giant to keep his mind on the legal man. Turning his red eyed glower on the fearing referee, the behemothic world champion gives Edward James a warning glare. That one look promising pain and death if the rookie powerhouse does it again, the Hell Machine turns his attention back to the matter at hand. Alan Clark sprawls on the mat, still holding his face with both hands, red marks visible in the skin where the giant had squeezed his face. Taking a deep breath, that familiar demonic grin spreads over the seven footer's face, stretching almost as wide as his now outstretched arms. He circles slowly around the fallen Clark, waiting and watching. The fans know the move the giant signals for, and begin booing most loudly as Alan begins working his way to his feet. "WATCH OUT, AL-AN!" *clap-clap clap-clap-clap* "WATCH OUT, AL-AN!" *clap-clap clap-clap-clap* "WATCH OUT, AL-AN!" *clap-clap clap-clap-clap* "And the fans show their support for Citizen Clark, Robert!" "Why is it they warn them, anyway? It's not like the wrestlers actually pay attention." "Hush, Robert. Let them have their fun." Comet whispers. The dazed, smaller member of the Wayward Sons seems to hear the chant, glancing around warily as he struggles upright. But as wary as he is, he doesn't see the figure standing directly behind him with arms closing like a vice. Immeasurable pressure is applied to both Clark's arms and torso, as the Hell Machine locks in the deadly hold known as the Hell Crush! The crowd boos and Alan shrieks in agony, but the hold is released after several long seconds, as Edward James steps into the ring and Janus spots him. The rookie powerhouse hesitates as Mark Hebner tells him to get back on the apron, while the seven foot world champion stares ominously, daring the other man to come forward. And ignoring Mark Hebner, Edward James charges forward, prepared to defend the well-being of his stablemate. "Here he comes to save the day!" Comet shouts. Unfortunately for him, the Hell Machine is not one to let a silly thing like heroism succeed. "NO chance!" Riley cackles. The first huge, right-handed punch catches James in the stomach, doubling the rookie powerhouse over with a gasping wheeze. The second, left-handed punch hits him under the chin, jerking him upright once more. The Hell Machine snorts like an angry bull, and as Edward James' eyes refocus, all they see is black as Janus SLAMS a Knuckle Bomb right between the bigger Wayward Son's eyes! The stunning power of the world champion sends James reeling and stumbling backwards against the ropes, and the giant move to finish the job. He takes two steps forward, and the big boot cracks Edward in the jaw, sending him tumbling over the top rope. Swinging around with a demonic grin on his face, the Hell Machine sees that Alan Clark is still on the mat, whimpering and holding his ribs. The smaller half of the Wayward Sons gallantly tries to pull himself upright, only to find himself assisted and whipped to the ropes by the world champino. As he comes flying back towards Janus, seeing those spread arms, Clark swallows hard. And puts all his strength, all his effort, into a desperation move. Leaping as high as he can to escape the Hell Crush, Alan Clark wraps his legs around the seven footer's neck for a hurricanrana. His risky gamble doesn't pay off. As he perches on the world champion's shoulders, Clark smiles almost wistfully and lifts a hand to wave to the crowd. The fans begin to boo, as the Hell Machine reaches up and grabs Clark's arms, pulling the smaller half of the Wayward Sons into a familiar position. The crowd hushes as they recognise what the Hell Machine is doing. Two words cross everyone's mind as Alan Clark is sent into the canvas. *BAM* Demonstar Driver. Leaning all three hundred and sixty pounds over the crumpled body before him, the giant enjoys the uproarious boos raining down on him. On the outside, Edward James desperately tries to climb to his feet. The count is as academic as they come. ONE. ... .... ..... TWO. ... .... ..... THREE. *DING DING DING!* Funyon's voice has none of its usual excitement. "Ladies and gentlemen, your winner... the SWF World Heavyweight champion.....the Hell Machine, JANUS!" "All that I know! There was no god for me! Force that shatters all! Absence of humanity!" The boos continue to pour down as the sound of Fear Factory's "Resurrection" blazes out of the speakers. Releasing the unmoving body of Alan Clark, Janus rolls away under the bottom rope and to the floor, moving towards the timekeeper's table. He strides past the half-risen form of Edward James, grabbing his trenchcoat and wrapping it around his shoulders. He lifts the world title almost reverently, staring at the shining gold between his hands. "Citizen Janus gains the victory, perhaps ending Any chance the Wayward Sons have of a tag title shot. By using the most feared move in the federation." "I'm beginning to doubt if anyone can take it from him... if he's willing to hit the Rage Unleashed... or that." Riley almost whispers. As he strides around the ring, leaving the bodies of his opponents behind him, Janus begins to muse. Clark and Edward James were no Toxxic and Tom Flesher. But the number of men in the ring meant little to him. He had triumphed here, and he could easily triumph again. With the sound of "Resurrection" roaring through the air, the loathing of the fans in his ears, and blood covering his forehead, the Hell Machine was sure of one thing when he met those two in the ring. It would be a battlefield unlike any he had traversed before. The Superior One, The Straight Edger, and the Hell Machine. But he was, psychopathic or not, a warrior. Nathaniel Kibagami - Silent - had made sure of that. And for the warrior, there would be only victory... ...or would there? ******* SWF Lockdown. Smartmarks Wrestling Federation™© An Alexander Zenon Production *******