Thoth

This card is mostly tag matches to make up for the fact it's real late. Also, I got it up real fast, so it's prolly full of errors. I had finals, plus crazy social shit to deal with. I'm sorry.

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*****Five***** ****Four**** ***Three*** **Two** *One* *****BLAMMO~!!***** Dazzling displays of pyrotechnics shoot off all around the SWF Stage and the entire arena is engulfed in a frenzy of cheers as SWF Storm gets underway! “Welcome Ladies and Gentleman to the Radio City Music Hall in New York City, host of tonight’s exiting Storm!!” Comet exclaims exuberantly. “Where tonight we will finally crown a number one contender to the SWF World Heavyweight Championship, when Landon Maddix and Sacred face off in the Cold Front Classic Finals!” Riley adds on. Just before Riley and Comet could continue on with their preview of the night, a slow pulsing beat begins to start up over the PA, followed by a large blast of bass, signaling the start of “Feuer Frei” by Rammstein. Slowly from the back, the young Kaine gingerly walks out into the wide open arena wearing a large neck brace and being helped to the ring by his older brother, Samuel Dobbson. Without much delay and without any of his usual antics, Kaine and Sammy briskly make their way to the ring area. “Ladies and Gentleman, please welcome to the ring being accompanied by his manager Samuel Dobbson… Kaine!” Funyon announces to the arena. “Kaine looks pretty beat up after that potential career ending move from Spike Jenkins on Lockdown. “Well Comet, the little moron knew what he was getting into… Spike just put the little runt in his place!” Riley interjects. Kaine and Samuel climb up into the ring and the youngster is handed a microphone as he holds onto the neck brace, grimacing in pain from all the extra movement of his head. “Well, I think Kaine is showing a lot of guts, coming to the ring in this condition.” Comet admires. “Well no one ever said he was the brightest lightbulb in the box…” Riley criticizes. With his brother helping the youngster stand upright, Kaine begins to speak clearly into the microphone. “Last week as you know, I was the victim of a malicious attack by that good for nothing coward Spike Jenkins.” Kaine begins, receiving a loud chorus of boos from the crowds directed at the name Spike. “Spike... I earned that shot at the Cruiserweight Championship… and by god I’m going to get it. Even if I have to crawl on my hands and knees to get it… I will be crowed Cruiserweight Champion.” Kaine sternly warns. “My whole career has been built up on becoming the best damn Cruiserweight this federation has to offer. Ever since you took that Cruiserweight Championship, the division has done nothing but gone downhill. Ever since you took possession of that belt, you have done nothing at all to prove that you truly deserve it.” Kaine speaks clearly. “Spike… you honestly thought that your move would put me out for good?” Kaine questions. “I don’t think so. Not while you still hold that belt. Spike, let me tell you something… as long as you hold that championship, I will be coming after you.” Kaine forcefully states as the crowds around the arena cheer in approval for the youngster’s stern warnings towards the Cruiserweight Champion. “Well that proves it… this little runt has no brains at all!” Riley reiterates his point. “Whatever the case may be, Kaine seems dead set on gaining that Cruiserweight Championship.” Comet replies. “You know… there’s a little event coming up called SWF Slay Ride… which would be the perfect time and place to exact my revenge.” Kaine considers. “So how about it Spike? At SWF Slay Ride… I challenge you to a match for the Cruiserweight Championship. at SWF Slay Ride… I will take that belt from your greedy little paws and prove to the entire federation that I am the best damn Cruiserweight alive.” Kaine promises. “…that is… if you’re not too much of a coward.” Kaine jokes, dropping the microphone. Both men quickly exit the ring and begin to make their way up the entrance ramp backstage as Rammstein’s “Feuer Frei” blasts out over the PA system and the entire audience cheers for the youngster. “Well there you have it folks! Kaine has challenged Spike Jenkins to a rematch for the SWF Cruiserweight Championship at SWF Slay Ride! Will the champion accept, or will he back down?” Comet inquires. “”Bah… Spike wouldn’t give this twerp the time of day, let alone another chance at getting embarrassed.” Riley fires back. “We’ll be back in a short bit folks with the first match of the night! Don’t go away!” Comet states enthusiastically. The scene fades to black as Kaine and his manager exit to backstage.

"And so, it comes to this." The Radio City Music Hall is packed to the rafters with rabid, crazed wrestling fans. Wrestling fans who are more likely to be in moshpits than music halls in their spare time...but tonight the SWF is in town, so it's all good. The camera pans the crowd as up go the signs as everybody tries to get themselves on screen if only for a few seconds so they can boast to their friends in the morning, with some of the signs picked out including 'WTF IS A MUSIC HALL!?!', 'DANNY DAGDA IS A GENERIC MEMBER OF MY FAMILY' and 'TOXXIC: 4 MORE YEARS!?!'. As the camera continues to pan around the arena, the voice of Cyclone Comet once again sounds out over the cheers. "Nine men entered the Cold Front Classic tournament post Ashes To Ashes. Now, only two remain. After a big, nine man battle royal and two single elimination matches a-piece, Landon Maddix and Sacred face one more battle in their quest for the number one contendership and the greatest Christmas present they could imagine...a World Title shot at Toxxic, at Slay Ride. There are a lot of backstories and counter-backstories to this one. But at the end of the day, it comes down to the competitive nature of these two men." "No doubt." Bobby Riley agrees. "Obviously, you can't downplay the prospect of an all Revolution Zero main event at Slay Ride. Or these two men's last match at Clusterfuck in February this year. Plus the effects the semi-finals had on these two. But tonight, all that'll matter to these two is victory." "Obviously, this match will be fought under the best two out of three falls tonight. A format in which Landon Maddix won the SJL World Championship, this time period last year. And what a great, fairytale story it'd be for Landon Maddix to go on to win the SWF World Championship one year onwards. "That's the problem with fairytales. They're so soppy that nobody over the age of eight gives a damn about them!" "Well, what about Sacred then? Tonight he's two more steps away from becoming a two time World Champion." "Sacred has done it all in this company!" Riley starts, with the air of a party political broadcast about him. "He's won every belt except the Cruiserweight Title...but he has won the Cruiser Title of his day, the Light Heavyweight Title. Remember when I held that?" "Not real..." "A three time ICTV Champion. He has spent the most days as USJL Champion, with two reigns. A former Tag Champion, former Hardcore Champion, former Light Heavyweight Champion...and a former World Champion. But he never really had the dominant reign he deserved. So talk fairytales all you want, but Sacred isn't here to play wicked witch to Maddix's Dorothy. He's here to write his own story damn it!" "...Well, how do you follow that? How about two out of three falls, Sacred versus Maddix~! Funyon, it's over to you!" A buzz fills the air as Sacred steps into the centre of the ring, the lights around him dimming to further provide some big-match atmosphere. "Ladies and gentlemen...the following contest is the Two Out Of Three Falls, Cold Front Classic Tournament FINAL!" "YEEAAAAAAHHHH!" "In this match, falls can be attained by pinfall, submission, disqua..." *PPPPFFFTTT!* Suddenly, the buzzing of screen static interrupts Funyon. Ever the trooper, the fuzzy figure tries to continue. "...disqua..." “There is nothing wrong with your television set.” But Andrew Blackwell's eeirely familiar voice cuts him off, so he wisely gives up. “Do not attempt to adjust the picture.” "At least he didn't interrupt us this time Robert." chuckles Comet, trying to hide his hatred for the imminent arrival. “We will control the horizontal.” "I don't know." Riley replies. "I kinda prefer it when you're cut off in mid sentence." “We will control the vertical.” Suddenly, the voice deepens, just as Sacred and his Revolution Zero buddies appear on the screen... “We are controlling transmission….” Finally the picture returns to normal, just as the lights begin to dim and "Tainted" by Lycia begins to seep through the P.A system...barely audible as the New York crowd begin to furiously boo. A few moments pass, allowing the boos to die down slightly before Sacred emerges through the curtains. Back up the crowd noise rises as Sacred stops, looking into the crowd with a snarl as the spotlights centre on him, following him as he strolls down the aisle. "Introducing first..." Funyon begins bitterly. "The number three seed in the Cold Front Classic. From Adelaide, Australia and weighing two hundred and sixteen pounds. Former three-time Intercontinental Television Champion and a former SWF World Heavyweight Champion...this is... SSSAAAAAAACCRRRREEEEEEEEDD!!!" Climbing up the steps and stepping into the ring, Sacred has a look of imperiable focus etched on his face. A look that can only mean trouble for those stepping in the ring with him, as many over the years would attest to. "In recent weeks, we have seemingly seen an almost reborn Sacred." says Comet. "To get here, Sacred had to overcome a stubborn Manson in a real battle, before defeating "The Icon" Max King in another hard hitting match in the semis...inside a steel cage. And in both matches, at various times, little glimses of the Hall Of Famer inside this complex individual have shone through. The question I must ask though is whever Sacred has the desire not to become the World Champion, as any wrestler would...but whever he has the desire to fight the man who brought him back into this company, in Toxxic." "I can't see it being an issue..." "Remember back to early this year. Everyone's favourite human sleeping pill, Charlie Matthews... valued mamber of The Unnamed. Until he won the Clusterfuck and suddenly, Va'aiga expelled him from the group. Need I sight more examples?" "No." "Then, do you really believe Sacred WANTS to battle Revolution Zero? I don't believe he came back for that reason. He came back to wrestle, sure. But does he have the will in him to go though some sort of gangwar?" "He's SACRED! Duh!" "PREPARE...FOR...LANDON!" ...WAAAAAHHHHH... *DUM DUM* "YEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!" The crowd erupt as suddenly "Megalomaniac" hits, heralding the arrival of Landon Maddix, as he bursts through the curtains. Stopping at the top of the ramp, Maddix's gaze is already aimed at Sacred as he raises his arms skywards, bringing the lights back to full power. With a wry smile creeping through his nervous expression, Maddix unstraps his ICTV Title from his waist, placing it on his shoulder, before the walking down the ramp. "And the opponent. The Cold Front Classic's number ONE seed...and the reigning SWF Intercontinental Television Champion! Accompanied to the ring by Megan Skye, he hails from Huron, South Dakota and weighs two hundred and twenty pounds. Also, a three time Intercontinental Television Champion...LANDON "LA CUCARACHA"... MAAAADDIIIIIIXXXXXXX!!!" The crowd roar their approval once more, as Maddix bounces up the steps and leaps to the middle rope, firing up the crowd. Sacred watches all this clearly unimpressed, while Landon hops over the top and lands in the ring, looking across at his opponent. "For Landon Maddix, it has been your typical rollercoaster ride in the Cold Front. Dramatic victory in the battle royal to secure premier seeding...a tough ride in the quarter finals against Christian Fury. And then, he defended that ICTV Championship in a ladder match against Spike Jenkins which, as much as the cage must have taken out of Sacred, REALLY did damage to Citizen Maddix." "That's not a premature excuse I detect, is it?" "Of course not Robert. I'm merely recapping the tournament..." "Like bull you are." As the two finalists gaze across the ring at one another, senior referee Nick Soapdish removes the ICTV Title belt from Maddix possession and passes it out of the ring. Already nerves are clear. Maddix begins to impatiently hop from foot to foot in an attempt to limber himself up, trying to get the blood flowing through his body. All that is unneccessary for Sacred though, as he prefers to instead do a couple of minor stretches. "Well, this promises to be a great match." Comet proudly proclaims. "Unlike their last encounter, this promises to be quite the even match. For once, Landon Maddix has a weight advantage here tonight." "Meaningless." Riley interrupts. "Sacred has the clear experience advantage." "Yes, but Sacred is still adjusting to returning from a long hiatus. Plus, Landon Maddix is far more experienced than he was in February. Maddix is also the number one seed." "Meaningless. Let's face it, Sacred is clearly the stronger of the two, no matter who the 'strongest seed' is." "Both have their advantages over the other. Can we agree on that at least." "Do we have to? I do have a reputation as the awkward color guy after all." Both men are seemingly ready now, as Soapdish calls them in and begins to run down on all the rules and regulations of the match, reminding both that the match is two out of three falls and asking for a clean fight. Maddix laughs off that suggestion, causing Sacred to flash him a look, as if to say 'you won't cheat if you value your life kid'. Eventually, Soapdish has been men prepped and backs off... *DING DING DING!* ...ringing the bell to kick the match off. The crowd cheer the bell, as Maddix and Sacred remain stood in statuesque manner with eyes locked on each other's. With the staredown continuing, Soapdish watches on wondering just what is going on, as neither man is doing battle as expected. Finally, Sacred extends his hand ever so slightly, not looking away from his opponent...as Maddix slaps Sacred's hand in a psuedo-handshake, before bounding right away. Sacred nods his head and his gaze follows Maddix as he circles the ring. "I guess we're ready now. And it's nice to see these two Citizens showing each other respect, despite obviously not being friends." "Oh, obviously." agrees Riley with slight sarcasm. Having done a quick tour of the ring, Maddix finally stops his circling and takes a last deep breath before striding over to Sacred, met by the veteran and pulled into a collar-and-elbow tie-up. Quickly Sacred pulls Maddix from there into a headlock, tightening up the hold in an instant. Already Maddix is down on one knee as Sacred squeezes away at his skull, knowing he has to escape. Maddix fires off some quick punches across the kidneys before trying to push Sacred off, but Sacred's headlock proves too tight and he goes nowhere except a few feet forwards. Trying again, Maddix sends some more punches into the back before pushing Sacred off...nowhere, as Sacred again hangs on. And this time, Sacred uses his free arm to punch Maddix hard in the jaw, releasing the headlock as he does so. Maddix stumbles backwards, holding as jaw as Sacred points a finger his way. "That's a warning shot right there." points out Riley. "That's as much psychological as it is physical on Sacred's part." Maddix shakes off the punch and walks back over...but this time, Sacred is waiting with a stiff forearm strike. And a second! With his opponent reeling, Sacred quickly scoots behind, locking on a waistlock. Maddix drops to a knee, then to the other and rolls, taking Sacred with him. With determination Sacred hangs onto the waistlock though, muscling Maddix over until he's stacked on his shoulders... ONE! Kickout quickly by Maddix, who rolls to his knees. Sacred quickly transitions up from waistlock back to headlock, keeping the pressure on the neck of Maddix as he rises to his feet. Maddix comes up with Sacred, going to the gut this time to try and free himself. Angrily, Sacred raises a knee into the face of Maddix...twice...three times, dazing the ICTV Champ and dropping him to his knees once more. Sacred hangs onto the headlock, keeping Maddix grounded for now...but Maddix isn't content to stay down, as he clutches Sacred's wrist and tries to prise his hands apart. But another knee from Sacred stops Maddix. "No nonsense here." Comet points out, as now, Sacred releases the headlock and steps behind Maddix, looking for a back suplex. Up goes Landon, but he manages to flip over Sacred and land on his feet, to the delight of the crowd. Sacred stops dead for a moment as Maddix pushes him off into the ropes, waiting for him to rush back before hooking him down with a clothesline! Sacred pops right back up, but Maddix is on the hop now, hitting the ropes and sending Sacred stumbling back a step with another clothesline. Off to the ropes runs Maddix again, Sacred following in... ...but Maddix puts the brakes on before hitting the ropes and back elbows Sacred in the jaw. Sacred stumbles once more as quickly Maddix leaps forward onto the middle rope, springing off with a slight twist, hooking The Sacred One on the way down with a headscissors! The crowd cheer the athletic move as Sacred is spun across the ring, only to hop straight back up. But it's clear Sacred is a little dis-orientated, grabbing the ropes to try and gain his where-abouts, while Maddix runs in and connects with a third clothesline of the match, this one tipping Sacred up and over the ropes to the floor! And sure enough, the crowd react with cheers, as Maddix backs into centre ring. "What a sudden offensive flurry by Citizen Maddix, something which he has become reknowned for!" bellows an impressed Comet. "Bah." It seems Sacred may have taken off his game as once on the outside, he hears the taunts and jibes from the fans around him, clearly revelling in the Aussie's predicament. "MAD - DIX! MAD - DIX! MAD - DIX!" The frustrated Sacred slides back into the ring with a glare towards Soapdish, trying to intimidate the official maybe. Maddix senses he's in control and moves in. But he's wrong, as Sacred meets him with a boot to the gut...and just like that, the match is back in Sacred's hands. As is Maddix's head, back in the headlock. Again Maddix goes for the wrist, this time unlocking Sacred's grip and twisting in front of him. With a short-arm pull, Maddix looks for a clothesline again, but Sacred wisely ducks and goes back to the waistlock. Like before, "La Cucaracha" drops to knees as he tries to escape. But the stronger Sacred simply hauls Maddix back to his feet...before then hauling him up and over, folding Maddix up across his neck with a german suplex! "OOOOOOHHHH" The groans of the New York fans are music to Sacred's ears, as he rolls to the side and covers up Maddix... ONE! T... Two only. "It's too early for a pinfall as yet." predicts Comet as Sacred gets back up. "But, I do believe that german suplex may have weakened the neck of Maddix." "Which is PERFECT for Sacred, as both of his main moves of course focus on the neck." The commentating kings may be right, as Maddix makes no secret in his discomfort while dragging himself up, one arm clutched to his neck. Smiling slightly, Sacred moves in and drives an elbow across the back of the head. As his opponent recoils, Sacred pulls him up with a tug of the hair, to deliver a forearm strike. And then another elbow across the neck. Followed up before Maddix can adjust with a second forearm. The offensive flurry has Landon momentarily dazed, which allows Sacred the time to hook Maddix up and deliver a crisp vertical suplex. "And now, Sacred seems to be settling into a groove." comments Riley, as Sacred keeps a hold of Maddix while rolling to his feet. Unable to prevent himself being pulled up, Maddix finds himself going up...and then down, with a second, slightly more forceful suplex at the hands of The Sacred One. But the #3 seed isn't done there, pulling up Landon again. The fans voice their disapproval as Sacred pauses for a moment to re-affirm his facelock before taking up Maddix again. This time however, Sacred allows Maddix's legs to flop over, but keeps a hold of the head and allowing that to slump across his shoulder... ...but suddenly, an elbow rocks him! Again, again and again the elbows come, until Sacred releases Maddix's head. "Citizen Maddix must have a good memory." Comet muses. "He knows exactly what that Hangman's Noose feels like and he obviously wishes not to feel it again!" Cursing as his cranium throbs, Sacred turns around and runs head-long...into a forearm from Maddix! And a second forearm as he tries again to charge! With the staple of his offense being used against him, Sacred is suddenly stunned, both physically and mentally. So in comes Maddix again, with another forearm. This time, Sacred shakes the blow off though, throwing Maddix arms to the side before WAFFLING him with a forearm of his own! "Now THAT'S how you throw a forearm!" yells Riley, as Maddix uncontrollably staggers backwards until he is finally stopped by the turnbuckles. Sacred scowls as he walks in after Maddix, all manner of respect forgotten now. Grabbing Maddix by the wrist, Sacred irish whips Maddix out of the corner and across the ring with tremendous force. Such force that Maddix can't put the brakes on... *CHINK!* ...before crashing sternum first into the top turnbuckle! "OOOOOOOHHHHHHH!" Gasps from the crowd cover the gasps for breath from Maddix, as he slumps into the turnbuckles to prevent falling to the canvas. Sacred is right behind Maddix though, not giving him more than a few moments to recover before clubbing him between the shoulder blades repeatedly. Maddix is now seriously slumped now, getting pulled out with handful of shorts and hoisted up into a back suplex. Stalling for a moment, Sacred makes sure he has complete hold of Landon before kicking his legs out and DRIVING him down with the back suplex! Landon bounces off the mat, as Sacred hooks a leg and pushes down the shoulders... ONE! TWO! Kickout. "I think it's clear now that Sacred is ruthlessly working on the neck of Landon Maddix tonight." points out Comet. "And you know this man has no remorse. No compassion." Once again Sacred drags Maddix from knees to feet, making sure to wrench his neck a little in the process, before lining up Maddix... *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOOO!" ...for a vicious chop. The force of Sacred's offence is already taking it's toll as Maddix falls backwards, the ropes catching him. *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOOO!" ...but that leaves him wide open for another chop, the fans responding with the usual "WOO"'s, despite the man delivering them. Maddix quickly pulls himself off of the ropes and grabs Sacred around the back of the head, giving him more leverage on a forearm strike. Shrugging it off, Sacred comes back with one of his own. Maddix ducks though, waiting for Sacred to predictably turn around ready to strike once more and beats him to it with a quick kick to the gut. With a groan Sacred doubles over, as Maddix snapmares him over... "Oh no..." *SMACK!* "OOOOOOHHHHHHHHH!" ...and KICKING HIM IN THE GOD-DAMN SPINE! "...I hate that." groans Riley. So does Sacred, back arched from the pain and a cringing look on his face. But suddenly, before he can put the pain in his ribs aside, Sacred suddenly feels Maddix leaning over him and grabbing him in a dragon sleeper! Obviously Sacred knows what's coming next and as the fans begin to roar encouragement for Landon, Sacred tries to scurry away...but Landon already has the dragon sleeper in! "And now, Citizen Maddix is looking to get the crucial first fall over and done with, as quickly as possible." With part one of the Land Of Nod applied, Maddix now attempts to turn Sacred over onto his front to fully have the hold applied. Knowing he only has so much time to escape, Sacred reaches up and hooks his hands around Maddix's head in a manner Chris Hero would call a cravate. Maddix now tries to shake that off but can't, as Sacred twists away at the neck. Maddix stubbornly hangs onto the dragon sleeper though, as Sacred continues to twist and wrench away. "MAD - DIX! MAD - DIX! MAD - DIX!" It's clear who the fans in Radio City Music Hall are behind in the struggle. But it's Sacred who seems to be winning the battle as he plants the soles of his feet on the canvas, showing great neck strength as he bridges up... ...but Maddix drops to one knee, bringing Sacred down with a reverse DDT backbreaker! "YEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" "Another move, BLATANTLY stolen from Sacred!" wails Riley in womanish shock. Holding his neck for a moment, Maddix realises Sacred is not getting up and tries his luck with a lateral press... ONE! TWO! Kickout. Undettered, Maddix gets right back up. It's clear the neck of the number one seed is bothering him as he walks across the ring, encouraging Sacred to get back up. Sacred does so, backing towards the corner as Maddix charges in. But Sacred is ready, dropping to a knee and scooping underneath to throw Maddix HIGH into the air... "NO! What stunning agility!" Comet exclaims, as Maddix lands his feet on the top rope and his hands on the ring-post to prevent himself from a match-ending fall. Stumbling away, Sacred seems to think he's finished off his foe for good as a relieved smile fills his face. But around him sound cheers, never a good sign. Slowly he turns around, just as Maddix is adjusting on the top. Sacred charges in though, catching Maddix with a forearm in the kidneys, before knocking Landon's legs from underneath him. "OOOOOHHHHHHHHH!" From there, the only way is down for Landon, landing precariously with a leg either side of the turnbuckle. Sacred quickly turns his back to Maddix and grabs his head, laying it over his shoulder with a hangman's neckbreaker obviously in mind. But Landon knows this, and as Sacred begins to pull him out so only his ankles hang on the ropes, Maddix manages to kick off the turnbuckle and flip in front of Sacred safely. Or, safe until Sacred nails him with a running forearm that is! "You can only escape The Sacred One for so long!" guffaws an evidentally satisfied Riley. As Maddix slumps back from the seated position the canvas bounces him into, Sacred is waiting with knee placed firmly in the throat of the ICTV Champion! The crowd boo in accordance, as Soapdish lays on a count. "ONE!" "TWO!" "THREE!" "FOU..." Sacred breaks, putting on a look of mock innocence purely for his own amusement, while booting Landon in the head at the same time. Turning his attention back to Maddix, Sacred hauls Maddix up and looks for an irish whip. But from somewhere, the resiliant number one seed finds a counter. Sacred hits the ropes as Maddix leaps into the air ready to catch Sacred coming in, maybe for a Hurri-Lanrana. Trouble is, instead of him catching Sacred, Sacred catches him and sits out with dramatic speed! Riley is almost out of his seat for the move. "For My Fallen Angel!" he screams, excitement in his voice as Sacred places a foot over each of Maddix's limp arms... ONE! TWO! Kickout! "And only two again!" Comet cries out. "Yeah, but he's making this kid work and work. These pinfalls aren't just to get a fall at this stage of a match. Obviously, you're hoping you'll get the fall. But if not, Sacred knows that Maddix is expending energy with every kickout." Standing back up and kicking Maddix's from off of him, Sacred now has something in mind as he encourages his opponent to get back up. Slowly he does, Sacred waiting for the right moment to boot him in the gut and scoop up Maddix onto his shoulder. But ever the squirmy little bugger, Maddix escapes Sacred's clutches and executes the Throwback! Sacred's face bounces off of the canvas as Maddix gets straight back up to his feet, quickly kicking the Revolution Zero member in the side of the head to keep him face-down on the canvas... ...before sitting onto Sacred's back, reaching forwards... ...AND LOCKING ON THE LAND OF NOD!!! "YEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" "He's got it this time!" hollers Comet as now he's coming out of his seat. "And this could spell the end of the first fall for Sacred!" The crowd erupt as Sacred finds himself trapped, with all of Maddix's 220 pounds sat squarely across the small of his back, while pulling back on the Aussie head trapped under his arm. Sacred is caught in the centre of the ring, the ropes a long way away. "TAP! TAP! TAP!" Again the noise of the crowd fills the air as Soapdish positions himself above Sacred, looking down on him so he can check for a submission. Maddix is now pulling back with all his has, all the power he can summon. Sacred back is arched now, in a sickening position, his spine beginning to resemble a slinky toy. And all the while, Maddix is leaning back... ...back... ...Sacred pushes up onto his hands and knees, beginning to try and carry Maddix on his back like a donkey carrying a small child on a beach somewhere. Strange analogy I know, but this is wrestling. But Maddix pulls back again and Sacred stops. The energy he's expending right now is sure to bite him in the ass sooner or later. The ropes are still a good ten or fifteen feet away. *TAP TAP TAP!* *DING!* "YEEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!" The Radio City Music Hall explodes, as Sacred finally gives up and tappy tap taps out! Instantly Maddix releases the hold, needing no adominshment from Soapdish to do so. Maddix pulls himself up, smiling broadly as his hand is raised. "Your winner of the first fall...LANDON MADDIX!" "YEEEEAAAAAAHHHHH!" "And the crucial first fall goes to the number one seed!" announces Comet proudly. "In pretty quick time too." "Make no mistake, if this was a one fall match, Sacred would NOT have tapped out. Sacred had to make a decision. Tap out and save himself for the next two falls or hang on and lose so much energy that he's likely go on to lose the fall anyway. No. Sacred made the smart choice." "But now, he needs to win two straight in order to get the title shot at Slay Ride!" "No bother. If anybody can beat someone two straight, it's Sacred." "Maybe he should have a go at you. I'm not sure he could beat you too straight. Infact, I don't think anyone could beat you too straight Robert." "...thank you!" With the usual short rest-period taken care of, Soapdish turns back to the timekeeper's table... *DING!* ...and the second fall is underway! Quick as a flash, Maddix bounds out of the corner and looks to jump Sacred before he can pull himself off the canvas, grabbing him under the neck. But any plans he had are stopped abruptly as Sacred reaches up, snapmaring Maddix over and pulling himself up on the ropes. Maddix is quick to pull himself back up as well, but as he does, Sacred nosedives towards the target...namely, Maddix's leg, with a chopblock! "Wha'did I tell you Comet?" Riley says with more than a hint of self-pride. "Sacred can beat Landon Maddix two straight, no problem." "With smart tactics like this, maybe. Sacred is of course targetting the right leg that both Christian Fury and Spike Jenkins did damage too in the past two rounds." As Maddix howls in pain, Sacred stands over the top of his fallen opponent and takes great pleasure in stomping down on the injured joint repeatedly, until Maddix finally reaches out and grabs the ropes. Soapdish warns Sacred off and he obeys the rules, not wanting to risk getting DQed. But Sacred stays on the attack as he drags Maddix away from the ropes, grabbing the leg as he does so. Maddix tries to kick out with his free leg, but misses Sacred as he sweeps down with an elbow across the knee! "ARRRGH!" Maddix's reaction is a loud one, as Sacred stands back up and does the same thing again. And then, a third time before he's suitably happy and snaps back up, to mock the crowd. "BOOOOOOOOOO!!" Sneering, Sacred turns his attentions towards Landon once more and strolls confidentally over before reaching down, picking up the leg again. Quickly a kick connects with the inside of Landon's knee...and a second, before Sacred begins to fire off a series of rapid kicks that Maddix can simply do nothing about! Finishing up with his flurry, Sacred then twists around the leg of the number one seed, into a spinning toehold...before placing the right leg of Landon across his left. "WHOOO!" cries Riley in Flair-esque manner, for no real reason as Sacred has Maddix's legs wrapped in figure four position. But instead of falling back, Sacred stops, with The Deprogrammer applied! "And this is a very smart move from Sacred too!" Comet exclaims. "Not only does this move work on the knee, but of course he's in a great position here. There's less chance of Maddix's turning the hold from this position." "No. There's NO chance!" As he stands over Maddix and looks down on the pain etched face of his opponent, Sacred hooks his hands underneath the extended foot of Maddix and pushes forwards, adding further pressure to the hold. Both of Maddix's legs are hurting now as Sacred cranks away on the hold in an attempt to get a quick, reciept tap-out. Maddix is hanging on though, gritting his teeth through the pain in his knee. "MAD - DIX! MAD - DIX! MAD - DIX!" As New York rises to it's feet to encourage him on, Landon continues to hang on, although the urge to tap out is growing with every passing second. A sudden burst of adrenaline runs through Maddix though and he reaches up, managing to grab Sacred by the hair and tug his head down far enough for a right hand. Sacred wobbles but stays up, so Maddix repeats the process...again not enough to knock Sacred down. "MAD - DIX! MAD - DIX! MAD - DIX!" "I wish these people would show some respect!" snaps Riley. "This is a music hall, not a George Michael concert." "Odd that he was the first man to come into your head, eh?" "First man to come where?" "...Well, I can't top that. Kudos." Reaching up, Maddix pulls Sacred down and again nails a right. The Deprogrammer is beginning to loosen, as is Sacred's grip on his bearings. One last time, Maddix drags Sacred's head towards him and with a last effort fires in a heavy hitting right hand...and this time Sacred does fall backwards. Of course, that means Sacred now has a figure four applied. "Ha ha!" is the responce of Riley. "Brilliant. Sacred is applying submission holds by getting punches in the head! Who else can do that?" In what would be a cruel twist of fate, Maddix is now trapped in another leg wrenching hold. The only stroke of luck in this situation is that as Sacred falls, he falls across the bottom rope, which prompts Soapdish to force a break. Soapdish does so, untangling the two men's legs, as Sacred takes a moment to regain his bearings. Meanwhile, Maddix is up, but unable to put too much weight on his right leg. Limping around, Landon turns to Sacred and moves in...but gets kicked in the knee by Sacred, who suddenly uses the ropes to bridge himself up. Shaking off the cobwebs, Sacred then pulls Maddix in and locks on a side headlock. A push off from Maddix sends Sacred across the ring, his weakened state preventing him from hanging on this time. Back shoots Sacred, as Maddix swings with a right... Sacred ducks though, turns on sixpiece...and connects with a flipping dropkick! Down crashes Maddix, Sacred right on top of him with a cover... ONE! TWO! Kickout! Maddix is quickly back up again, Sacred hovering over him...unsure whever to focus on knee or neck. So he decides to do both, connecting with a kick to the knee and a clubbing strike across the back of the neck in stereo. Not knowing which bodypart to clutch first, Maddix drops to one knee. Sacred pulls him right back up though. *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOOO!" ...and lashes him with a knifedge chop. *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOOO!" ...and a second. Maddix is on rubber legs as the chops leave him short of breath, to the point of Sacred being able to time a slow, methodical and above all else teeth breaking forearm strike! Maddix hits the canvas in a second, with Sacred again quick to press the issue with a cover... ONE! TWO! Kickout! "Sacred, understandably, would like this second fall to be settled as quickly as possible...and it shows from these rapid pinfall attempts." Comet points out. Again Sacred drags Maddix from the canvas, pushing him back into the turnbuckles and opening up the chest... *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOOO!" ...for another chop. The chops are clearly doing damage now, as Maddix's bare chest is beat-red from the strikes. Sacred follows up with a kick to the knee as he looks to plan his next move, nailing another kick as his plotting continues. Suddenly though, Maddix reaches forward and rakes Sacred's eyes! That buys him some time, allowing the number one seed to now push Sacred back... *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOOO!" ...and the chop battle is on! *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOOO!" ...a battle that Sacred takes up, hitting a second stinging chop. *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOOO!" ...so Maddix fires one back, although not with the verocity of Sacred's. Tiring of the games, Sacred tries to take the initiative and attempts to kick Maddix in the shins like a schoolgirl, only for Maddix to block, before connecting with a forearm. Sacred is rocked, as Maddix nails another forearm. And a third. Sacred is dizzy now, as Maddix nails a fourth and a fifth... *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOOO!" ...but Sacred cuts him off with an almighty chop! "This wrestling match has descended into nothing more than a decadent battle!" cringes Comet, secretly longing for the fine-art of pure wrestling. Now Maddix really is on rubber legs and is too hurt to stand, dropping to one knee with exhaustion. Sacred quickly capitalises with a forearm strike, before pulling up Maddix and clubs him with yet another forearm. These strikes are sending both men into early weakness, as both men pause for a moment for breath. It's Maddix that takes the initiative and charges, looking for a clothesline... ...but Sacred ducks, catching Maddix as he stumbles forward and hooking his arms into a double chickenwing. "Ooh, ooh!" grunts Riley in excitement. "Narcosynthesis! And we know what this led to in February!" "The move that Sacred's brother used to great effect in his career, could once again by the key to a Sacred victory over Landon Maddix...or at least, a fall." Maddix knows exactly what's coming but he also knows there's nothing he can really do, as Sacred has his arms gripped. Still, the number one seed is nothing if not stubborn and tries not to allow himself to get taken down, all while forcing himself on towards the ropes. But suddenly, Sacred starts to get impatient and snaps his head forwards, repeatedly, with straight headbutts across the back of Landon's head!! "My Lord, would you look at the intensity from Sacred!" Comet says in disbelief as Sacred's headbutts are working, with Maddix slowly dropping to his knees. From there, Sacred is able to start kneeing Maddix in the back of the head, further forcing him towards the mat until finally, Maddix is laid face down...at which point, Sacred bridges over with the chickenwings still on! "And the Narcosynthesis is in!" Comet booms. "Which means, Landon Maddix is SOL! And you know what that means." "As a pillar of the community superhero, I'm sure I do not." "MAD - DIX! MAD - DIX! MAD - DIX!" The crowd are on their feet again trying to encourage Maddix on, trying to get him to crawl towards the ropes. But they may very well be wasting their luck, as Sacred has the hold locked in, bridging expertly up onto his toes while pulling Maddix's arms towards each other with ferocity. If Maddix were poultry, he'd be ripped in half by now. But he's Landon Maddix, so he's hanging on. But still, the ropes are out of reach and ungrabbable. There seems to be no escape. If only Megan was at ringside. ... Suddenly, Maddix stops struggling...stops crawling. Instead he puts his effort into forcing upwards and planting first one knee on the canvas...then the second. Still Sacred has the hold applied, but Maddix is not in the ideal position. "What the hell..." mumbles Riley, not believing what he's seeing. "I have no idea what Citizen Maddix is planning, but that sour Sacred certainly looks worried." Forcing his arms together again, Sacred is trying in pure desperation to make the move stick...and as long as he's got that, Sacred knows that the fall is within sight. But suddenly, Maddix makes another move. Sacred's head lays off centre across Maddix's shoulder blades and Maddix is making his pay for it, as from his knees Landon starts to turn to the side that Sacred's head sits! Now, Sacred does look worried, as Maddix is turning...turning...turning. Sacred gives the arms another tug, but by now Maddix s well on his way... ...AND HE TURNS OVER! "YEEEEEEAAAAAHHHHHH!" "Maddix! Maddix has escaped the Narcosynthesis!" bellows Comet. "I guess that broad he hangs around with has some uses after all." Having escaped the hold, Maddix is now facing away from Sacred, who is holding onto Maddix's arms in a surfboard position in a desperate attempt to keep some sort of hold on. But now, Maddix is fighting out of that, confidence flowing through him... ...Sacred suddenly charges though, kneeing Maddix in the spine! Maddix doubles over in pain as Sacred releases the surfboard, hooking on a front facelock before Landon knows where he is and quickly hooks an arm over Maddix's. The crowd know what's coming and begin to once more howl some pro-Landon encouragement, but can't do so quickly enough, as Sacred swings his leg forward, then back and driving Maddix skull first into the canvas! "CRUEL FATE!" Riley erupts, relief evident in his voice. Maddix's head bounces off of the canvas like a rubber ball, as Sacred quickly shoots a half, hooks a leg... ONE! TWO! THREEE!!! *DING!* Boos fill the Music Hall, as Sacred rolls off of Maddix and clenches his fists in a mixture of delight and relief. He knows now, that momentum is on HIS side. "The winner of the fall, tieing the match at one fall a-piece...SACRED!" "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" "What a heartbreaker." groans Comet. "Citizen Maddix showed magnificent guts to reverse out of the Narcosynthesis, only to..." "Only to be struck down by Cruel Fate! It's ironic, don't you think. The kid spends all week trying to counter the Narcosynthesis...and then, Sacred hits him with his preferred finisher anyway, renderring it all useless." "Well, I think he proved something to the fans..." "And then, he lost the second fall." As Riley takes greet glee in Sacred's victory, the crowd are buzzing...one fall a-piece, the match couldn't be more finely balanced. Or, it could. If Maddix wasn't out cold still. Soapdish tries to stall for as long as possible, giving Maddix as much of a chance to regain his bearings as he can, before Sacred begins to pressure him into re-starting the match. *DING!* The bell rings to start fall three and quick as a flash, Sacred rushes over and makes another lateral press on Maddix... ONE! TWO! Kickout. "Sacred, pushing his luck a little there." says Comet cheekily. Wasting little time, Sacred attempts to strike while the iron is hot and picks Maddix up by the shorts and hair, throwing him across the ring like a piece of garbage. Maddix rolls through but is very dazed, while Sacred lines him up. Backing off the ropes, here comes The Sacred One with Maddix in his sights, diving at him... *SMACK!* ...connecting flush in the jaw with a leg lariat, landing on top of Maddix for good measure, which Soapdish sees as a pinfall attempt. ONE! TWO! SHOULDERUP! Sacred doesn't seem too bothered as he pulls himself back to his feet, beckoning Maddix up at the same time. Judging from the look in Sacred's eyes, or rather where his eyes are looking, Sacred has a bullseye aimed on Maddix's leg as he slowly gets back up. Reaching his feet, Maddix looks dis-orientated as here comes Sacred from behind with a chopblo... ...NO! Maddix not only hurdles the diving Sacred, but lands a legdrop on his way down. That does his leg no favours though. "We're in the closing stages of this battle now and desperation is setting in. That was a clearly desperate move." Comet says, voicing his opinion. With his leg re-injured slightly, Maddix limps off of the canvas and across the ring with Sacred in his sights, The Sacred One up to hands and knees already. Wearily Maddix slams a forearm strike across the back of Sacred's head, not knocking him down but merely scrambling his brains a little more. Another forearm connects but again Sacred doesn't go down. So Maddix goes for plan B, flipping over Sacred and pulling him over into a Oklahoma Roll... ...but Sacred tips his weight instantly back, stacking Maddix on HIS shoulders! ONE! TWO! TH... NOOOOO!! The crowd breath a sigh of relief, as Sacred curses while getting back to his feet. Maddix does the same...minus the cursing. He's met... *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOOO!" ...with the chop! "My word, those chops are so dehabilitating!" gasps Comet. "Oh yeah. When Sacred chops you, it's like being chopped with a rather blunt meat cleaver." Maddix gasps for breath as Sacred zeroes in on the knee one more time, kicking Landon in the kneecap to further leave him in a paused predicament. But not for long, as Maddix nails a forearm before diving in on Sacred, hooking him by the head and dropping Sacred with a DDT! "YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" As the crowd's cheer start once more, Maddix decides not to go for a cover. Instead, Landon backs gingerly into the corner and hops to the middle rope! "Crash Landon..." Sacred groggily begins to use the ropes to pull himself to his feet and staggers around the ring aimlessly, trying to find where "La Cucaracha" is situated. And once he finds him, of course Sacred is staggering over towards Maddix. Sure enough though, the ICTV Champion sticks out a boot for Sacred to stagger into, which he does. Dazed, Maddix quickly grabs him by the head and springs off the middle rope, whipping around and... ...getting caught... ...AND DROPPED DOWN!!! "OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" "NORTHERN LIGHTS BRAINBUSTER!" screams a clearly shocked Comet. He shouldn't be. Seeing as the same thing happened last time these two met. "Deja vú from February this year, but this time, I don't think Sacred is going to follow up with the Narcosynthesis this time!" Indeed he isn't. With Maddix out cold, Sacred simply places an arm over Maddix and makes the cover... ONE! TWO! THREEE! NO, NO...SOAPDISH CALLS IT OFF! MADDIX'S FOOT IS ON THE ROPES!!! "YEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" As Radio City Music Hall explodes with cheers, Sacred is currently exploding with rage, standing up and in an irregular show of fury he starts to hunt down the referee with fire in his eyes! Soapdish understandably runs headlong out of the ring to avoid getting discombobulated by the angry Aussie, while Sacred snarls and turns back to Maddix. The number one seed is clearly out, but the number three seed is pissed off now, so pulls him off the canvas for some more punishment. "YOU ESS AY! YOU ESS AY! YOU ESS AY!" And just when things couldn't get more heated, this is now a battle of nationalities...the New York crowd chanting U.S.A in support of the half-Spaniard. "He's gonna kill him." sneers Riley quietly. Hooking an arm over Maddix's, Sacred locks on the tiger neck chancre once more with ideas on delivering some more Cruel Fate. Maddix seems out still as Sacred stops, sneering at the American fans before pulling in his leg... ...and suddenly finding himself lifted up and flapjacked across the middle rope! "WOAH! Counter...and now, it may be time to dial it up!" Fans rise to their feet as Maddix wastes no time gesturing or taunting, instead runnign head-long across the ring. His knee isn't in good shape so the run isn't going to break any sprit records, but Maddix gets up enough speed to shoot back and whip around... 6! 0! NO! "OOOOOHHHHHHHHH!" Maddix spins through and lands on his feet behind Sacred, who is waiting with a Super Spear... ...which Landon leapfrogs... ...but he lands awkwardly on his right leg! Sacred capitalises as he scrambles back to his feet, rushing past Maddix and hooking his head on the way. Only for Maddix to counter the R.K.O attempt by pushing off The Sacred One into the ropes. Back bounces Sacred... *SMACK!* ...into some Sweet Cuca Music!!! Sacred collapses in a heap, as Maddix collapses on top... ONE! TWO! THREEEEEE!!!! "WHAT!?!" "YEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!" "HE DID IT!" howls Comet in glee, cutting off the disbelieving Riley. In the background though, the crowd threaten to drown them both out! *DING DING DING!* "HE DID IT!?!" Riley howls back. "Your winner of the third fall, and the match by 2 falls to 1...the Intercontinental Television Champion...the new number one contender...LANDON "LA CUCARACHA" MAAADDIIIXXXXX!!!" The crowd are absolutely rabid, as Maddix is in total disbelief, much like everyone in the arena. So is Sacred, with little idea to where in the hell he is but with the sounds of "Megalomaniac" and frantic cheers ringing through his ears, with the bells of dizziness. "I can't believe it. From nowhere, Landon Maddix...is the NEW number one contender! He caught Sacred unawares..." "NO! I refuse to believe this!" "Believe it Robert! Sacred ran straight into that superkick and as he did, his title aspirations ran straight down the proverbial crapper, if you'll pardon my Veluxian! Look at this...Sacred can't believe it!" Maddix has his belt and is being helped over the barricade to continue his celebration in the stands, while Sacred sits in the centre of the ring with his head in his hands. After everything the two went though, ONE lucky shot beat him. One lucky kick. One kick that means Landon Maddix is in near hysterics in the crowd, slapping hands with his fans. While in the ring, Sacred stares into space, mouth agape. "Citizens...a wise man once said, it's better to be lucky than good. Tonight, that old adage may just have bitten Sacred in the ass. In my humble opinion, it couldn't have happened to a nicer person!" "This is horrible." "And now, at Slay Ride...it will be Landon Maddix versus Toxxic. One on one. First time EVER! For the SWF World Heavyweight Champion. And what must Toxxic be thinking right now?" "He'll be fine. Maddix has a messed up neck, crock knee. Toxxic'll kill him." "Maddix'll be fine by then Robert. It'll only be a few days time." "That's what they said to Terry Waite." "...and with that, we bid you goodnight!" Copyright SWF 2004 "Smarkin' Off Since Forever."

The camera opens up to the backstage area, where we find Megan Skye, SWF Women's Champion, walking the halls towards one of the bottled water vending machines. However, as she turns the hall, she is suddenly blasted HARD into the face with a metal suitcase, causing her to fall to the floor in a heap. Stepping over her is her attacker...Kelly Connelly...who grabs Megan by the throat. "Bitch, consider this a challenge...I want MY title back!" she says, slapping Megan across the face after saying that, before walking off. Officials are quick to go over and check on Megan now, seeing how she is.

“It’s Friday, and we’re LIVE~ in New York for STOOORRRRMMMMMM~!” Cyclone Comet booms. “It’s Tag Team Championship time, fair Citizens-” “-and it’s totally unfair!” Riley cuts in. “Sean and Toxxic defeated two teams on Smarkdown and now they have to defend against one of those teams? They’ve had no time to prepare!” “Regardless, this is what has been decided by SWF Creative Control,” Comet shrugs, “and I for one can’t help but revel in the possibility of Revolution Zero losing one of their title collection.” Before Riley can make a suitably snappish rejoinder the cameras switch to Funyon in the middle of the ring, and the dapper announcer raises his microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, the following tag team contest is scheduled for one fall and is for the SWF World Tag Team Championships!” he declares to a rousing volley of cheers. “Introducing first...” The sounds of ‘This Is Your Life’ by Switchfoot hit and the Radio City Music Hall rises to its collective feet as the familiar pairing of Ghost and Todd Cortez make their way out onto the soundstage, both men looking focused and determined (as far as anyone’s expression can be made out behind a mask). Cortez pauses at the top of the ramp and throws up his straight-edge ‘X’ sign, but Ghost is already hurrying down towards the ring and slapping hands as he goes. “...at a combined weight of 456lbs,” Funyon continues over the cheers, “they are possibly the longest-reigning Tag Team Champions of all time... Ghost and Todd Cortez; HOLLLLLYYYYYYY-WOOOOOOODDDDDD... BOOOOOOUUUUU-LE-VAAARRRRRDDDD!!” Ghost quickly climbs into the ring and ascends a turnbuckle, raising his arms to pump the fans up even further while Cortez removes his cross and kisses it before handing it over to the timekeeper and joining his partner in the squared circle. In an echo to the Three-Way Dance on Smarkdown, the two come together for a huddled conversation as their music dies away. “How much longer must this charade be played out?” Riley asks waspishly. “It’s plain to see that Van Siclen isn’t in this alone, if indeed he’s ever been under that mask at all! Personally Comet, I have my doubts!” “It will go on as long as the Wrestler Possibly Known As Mike Van Siclen wants it to,” Comet states, “and that’s all I am going to say on the subject.” Everyone’s favourite superhero is interrupted by the Smarktron whiting out and every light in the arena hitting ‘full’ as the faint *skritch-skritch* of a needle on vinyl is heard. Then: “WEL-WEL-W-W-WELCOME TO THE REVOLUTION!” A deep voice booms out the ominous message as it is flashed up onto the Smarktron and the brutal guitars of ‘Battle Ready’ by Otep kick up. For a few moments nothing is to be seen except the first few shots of Revolution Zero decimating the SWF... then the drums crash in and a lightning bolt spears down from the heavens to ignite a stage-wide explosion of red and gold pyro! *BOOOM!!* The resulting smoke hides the soundstage for a second or so, but then it starts to billow and four well-known shapes emerge to less than a rapturous reception from the New York faithful. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Sean Davis and Toxxic lead the way with Jet and Marcus Washington trailing behind. Davis has his Tag Title around his waist with Washington carrying the HGC belt in the hand that doesn’t hold his briefcase; Toxxic meanwhile has entrusted both his belts to his girlfriend, who has the tag belt around her narrow waist while the World Title is slung over her shoulder in a manner reminiscent of the Straight-Edge Sensation. “And their opponents!” Funyon booms, “accompanied to the ring by Jet and Marcus Washington; at a combined weight of 488lbs, the team of Hardcore Gamer’s Champion Sean Davis and SWF WORLD... HEAVYWEIGHT... CHAMPION Toxxic... they are the SWF World Tag Team Champions; RRRRRREVOLUUUUUUU-TION... ZEEERRRRRRRRROOOOOOOO!!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” The Straight-Edge Sensation and the Perfect Storm ignore the chants that are being flung their way, instead focusing their attentions on the pairing awaiting them in the ring. Just as on Smarkdown the tension between the two teams is almost palpable... but tonight there is no Fury and Cross to water it down. It will be pure, undiluted hostility between four men who have clashed on numerous occasions. *DING-DING-DING* Ghost and Sean Davis start the match, and the Hardcore Gamer’s Champion beckons the masked man inwards with little apparent concern. The Perfect Storm manages to cut the ring off well and Ghost is left with few options but to lock up; the moment contact is made he tries to squirm around the side of his bigger and stronger opponent, but Sean Davis holds him tight. For a second Ghost is simply trapped by the Perfect Storm’s massive arms; then Davis throws him away and the masked man crashes into a neutral corner hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs! “BOU-LE-VARD!” “BOU-LE-VARD!” Todd Cortez is leaning over the top rope and clapping along to the crowd’s chants, trying to fire his tag team partner up. Ghost steps cautiously out of the corner and eyes Sean Davis, trying to detect a weakness in the big man’s defence. With none immediately obvious Ghost starts to walk slowly forwards... then breaks into a run before dropping to the canvas and sliding through the legs of the surprised Davis! Sean tries to turn and follow him but Ghost has grabbed the Perfect Storm’s left leg on the way past, and he now comes up to his feet with it in his hands. Davis balances unhappily on one leg as he faces away from his opponent, and it is the work of a moment for Ghost to swing Davis around before grabbing his head and sitting out with a jawbreaker! The impact of that move would knock most men down but Sean Davis simply staggers back, holding his face. Unperturbed, Ghost springs back to his feet and fires off a superkick that does floor the big man, to the delight of the crowd! “BOU-LE-VARD!” “BOU-LE-VARD!” Sean starts to push himself up, shaking his head to try and dispel some of the ringing, but the moment he reaches one knee Ghost grabs him in a front facelock, waves cheerily at the New York fans in attendance and spins around to drive Davis’ face back into the mat with the Code Red! “Hollywood Boulevard have certainly taken the early initiative in this match, surprising the Tag Champions with their speed,” Comet asserts. “The only question in my mind is exactly what their gameplan is; while working the neck of Citizen Davis would seem to be the obvious move here, several of their more potent moves could probably not be hit on the big man with any great ease. I wonder if they would actually prefer to get Toxxic in the ring, despite his undoubted ability, in order to get a target whom they could perform moves like That Special Place on.” “Pfft, they’re in trouble no matter who’s in the ring,” Riley snorts, “but by all means tag him in. If Davis doesn’t crush them Toxx’ll just outwit them.” Ghost has placed Sean Davis back in a front facelock and hauls the reluctant Perfect Storm over to the Hollywood Boulevard corner where he extends his hand to receive the tag from Todd Cortez. The Urban Legend vaults nimbly over the top rope before burying his boot into Davis’ midsection, at which point Ghost releases his grip and protests his innocence to Matty Kivell as he steps out through the ropes. Davis however just rears up and stares at Cortez, evidently not fazed by the kick to the ribs... so the Urban Legend leaps up and kicks him in the head with an enzuigiri! *CRACK!* “YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” That one certainly seemed to get Davis’ attention and the Perfect Storm is nowhere near as quick to rise from the blow to the head. Todd Cortez unsurprisingly doesn’t seem all that concerned for his opponent’s well-being as he grabs Davis by the head and hauls the bigger man up to his feet. Sean seems to be about to fight out of whatever Cortez has cooking, but the Urban Legend is too quick for his larger adversary and wraps his arm around Davis neck before dropping to his knees and executing a neck-snapping Cereal Killer. “BOU-LE-VARD!” “BOU-LE-VARD!” Despite the Boulevard’s onslaught Sean Davis is a tough man, and he is still trying to fight up and back to his corner. Cortez is well aware that giving his opponent a few moments to breath could be a big mistake and he tags Ghost back in before hooking in a move that’s halfway between a rear chinlock and a camel clutch. It doesn’t look particularly precise but it does exactly what it needs to do; namely hold Sean Davis in place for a few seconds while Ghost trots around to the front of him before casually dropkicking him in the face. “OOOOOOoooohhhhh...” Davis rolls away while trying to protect himself with his hands and Ghost takes a couple of seconds to play to the crowd (who quickly get over their sympathetic reaction and start chanting for the challengers again). However, Cortez urgently directs his partner to the job in hand and the masked man makes sure he retrieves Davis before the Perfect Storm can think of trying to get to the anxious-looking Toxxic. Davis is on his hands and knees and Ghost quickly puts him in a front facelock, then lifts him up to a vertical base before hitting a swinging neckbreaker on the Hardcore Gamer’s Champion. This appears to have been carefully calculated to bring Davis within jumping distance of the Boulevard’s corner, as Ghost tags in Cortez who heads straight to the top rope. For a moment it looks like the Urban Legend is considering getting down and returning to a more ground-based approach, but then he leaps off and drops all his weight backfirst onto the Florida native with a Senton! The force of impact drives the air from Davis’ lungs and Todd reclines into the cover with his eyes fixed on Toxxic... ONE! TWO!! ...but Davis kicks out just after two, and Toxxic takes advantage of that crumb of comfort to flip a v-sign at Cortez. Todd ignores his fellow straight-edger’s vulgarity and takes advantage of Sean Davis’ apparent determination to get back to his feet by helping the bigger man up... then driving him back down with an STO! It took quite a bit of effort for the Urban Legend to floor his victim but nevertheless Sean Davis hits the mat hard again and Cortez pops back up, looking around at the crowd to pump them up further. “BOU-LE-VARD!” “BOU-LE-VARD!” With the chants of New York ringing in his ears Todd Cortez apparently decides that he will respond to Toxxic’s insulting gesture by going for a quebrada off the middle rope on Toxxic’s side of the ring; a simple enough plan in truth and Toxxic makes no move to foil it... the same however cannot be said for Marcus Washington, who pulls the rope down at the last moment and causes Cortez to sailing out of the ring in an ungainly manner as his feet fail to find any purchase! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “What a despicable action by Citizen Washington,” Comet splutters, “a man versed in Law should know better!” “I’d like to remind you that Tom Flesher, our special front-row guest, is currently studying Law,” Riley points out, causing Comet to blanch. “Evidently our legal system is no longer to be trusted,” the deflated superhero mutters. However, in accordance with the ancient axiom of Crime and Punishment Marcus Washington’s transgressions do not go unnoticed or without their consequences - Matthew Kivell was checking on Sean Davis when the quebrada was attempted, but although he only caught Washington’s actions out of the corner of his eye the SWF’s senior official has no hesitation in banning the PA from ringside! “Na-na-naa-naa... na-na-naa-naaa... HEY-HEEEYYY!! GOO-OOD-BYE!!” Washington stalks up the ring looking thoroughly displeased, but down at ringside Toxxic has jumped down to attend to Todd Cortez. Kivell warns the Straight-Edge Sensation about interfering and Toxxic complies by only punching Cortez once, then bundling him back in under the bottom rope. Kivell still isn’t happy for some reason and Cortez doesn’t seem too enamoured of the World Champion’s actions either, pulling himself back to his feet and yelling at Toxxic over the top rope. Toxxic just looks at him and after a few seconds the Urban Legend turns around- *WHAM!!* -to be picked up and driven back down to the mat by a Sean Davis spinebuster, as the big man has taken advantage of his opponent’s excursions to get his breath back! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Some of the fans hadn’t finished singing the Goodbye Song, but everyone joins in for the chorus of booing that accompanies Davis’ reassertion of his dominance on the match. Perhaps fortunately for Todd Cortez however the Perfect Storm is not in the best of shape after the early beating he has taken at the hands of the Boulevard, and the big man steps over to his corner to tag in his partner. Admittedly his partner is World Champion and Tag Team Champion... but hey, you can’t have everything. “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” Toxxic steps through the ropes and into the ring, pausing for a moment to milk the fans for boos before advancing on the breathless Cortez. He pulls the Urban Legend up and immediately starts going for a neckbreaker, but Cortez continues the revolution until both men are back where they started, then manages to break free of the Straight-Edge Sensation’s grip to grab Toxxic’s left arm and fall backwards in a single-arm DDT. Toxxic catches onto Cortez’ plan at the last moment and grabs the top rope with his right hand, causing Cortez to yank Toxxic’s arm painfully upon descent but not actually pull him down to the mat. Finding his opponent on his back again Toxxic simply aims a stomp at Todd’s chest, but the Urban Legend manages to catch the British rookie’s boot before twisting to one side with an improvised Dragon Screw. Cortez isn’t very familiar with the move and the usual torque on the knee doesn’t seem to affect Toxxic that much; in fact the World Champion kips straight back up again, almost as if to show Cortez how little it hurt. Unfortunately for Toxxic by this time Todd Cortez is also rising, and he leads the way with his palm... *SMACK!* “Sweet Zombie Jesus!” Comet shouts as Cortez’s palm connects with Toxxic’s jaw, “that was a Shotei worthy of the Superior One himself!” “Hardly,” Riley snorts. “Most men’s legacies seem to grow with time, but here we are with Tom absent for barely three months and you’re already sullying his name with comparisons to second-rate street fighters.” Toxxic doesn’t kip up from that one and Cortez moves to follow up... then looks over at his corner, where Ghost is reaching out for all he’s worth and making as much noise as he can without the house mics being quite able to tell if it is or is not Mike Van Siclen’s voice emanating from under the mask. Cortez looks back down at Toxxic, who is now starting to push himself up... and seems to figure ‘what the hell’. *smak “YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “M-V-S!” “M-V-S!” Ghost steps through the ropes just as the man who gave him the Dangerlust ten days ago makes it back to his feet. For the first time since that day Toxxic and Ghost step into the ring as the legal men... and neither one looks interested in backing down. “M-V-S!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” The two chants war with each other despite essentially agreeing on the important point; New York wants to see Toxxic get his ass handed to him. Even Tom Flesher appears to be showing an interest in the front row, the screen of his laptop down and his reference materials meticulously bookmarked. “Come on Mi- I mean, Citizen Ghost,” Comet exclaims, “it’s time to take revenge on the scurrilous scoundrel!” Ghost and Toxxic circle each other, both seemingly looking for an opening. Neither one appears to be giving anything away, but then Toxxic suddenly lunges forwards and shoves the masked man as hard as he can in the chest! Ghost staggers back, slightly winded but nothing more and appears to be about to head back to his opponent and give Toxxic a taste of his own medicine - but then a dark-skinned arm wraps around his head from behind as Sean Davis reaches over the rope and grabs Ghost in a vice-like grip! “Brilliant!” Riley shouts in delight. “Toxxic manoeuvred Ghost until he didn’t realise that he had his back to the Revolution Zero corner! That’s called ring awareness, Comet!” Ghost struggles in the grasp of his captor as Matty Kivell counts for all he’s worth, but even while disapproving of the Hardcore Gamer’s Champion’s actions Kivell can’t count any faster than the legally-required pace, and that gives Toxxic plenty of time to fire a running dropkick into Ghost’s midsection! “OOF!” Davis releases the masked man just as Kivell reaches ‘Five’ and the winded Ghost staggers forwards, only to have his head grabbed by Toxxic as the Straight-Edge Sensation gets up from where he landed after delivering the dropkick. Toxxic drives Ghost’s face into his knee, then applies a very brief front facelock and drops backwards to spike the masked man’s head into the canvas with the Sobering Thought! *CRUNCH-WHAM!* “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” A DDT normally hurts, but even so the way Ghost grabs his neck after the move seems to indicate that all is not right with the masked man’s upper vertebrae. The significance of this fact is not lost on Toxxic and Sean, who exchange a brief glance before Toxxic tags his partner back in. “Oh dear,” Comet murmurs as the Florida native grabs Ghost by his head and hauls him roughly off the canvas, “I think Citizen Ghost is about to get a dose of the Perfect Storm.” “Yup, Storm Warning baby!” Riley squeals. Davis doesn’t take long in deciding what move from his devastating arsenal he should pull out first - the former FSU football star takes up position behind his opponent and wraps his arms around Ghost’s waist in what appears for a moment to be a loving hug, but quickly turns into something far less caring as he bridges backwards to launch the masked man through the air with a release German suplex! *BANG!* Ghost lands hard... right on his neck, just as Davis had planned. Todd Cortez is evidently extremely worried by the sudden developments that have taken place in the last couple of minutes and is calling for the tag desperately. Ghost would probably be more than happy to oblige, but unfortunately for the challengers he is currently unable to do much more than remain in a crumpled heap on the canvas, weight stacked up onto his own shoulders from where he landed off the suplex. Sean Davis doesn’t even have to adjust his opponent’s position before applying pressure on the smaller man’s legs and causing Kivell to drop to count... ONE! TWO!! ...but Ghost hasn’t given up yet, and the masked man kicks out with time to spare! New York breathes a sigh of relief and Todd Cortez starts to thump the top turnbuckle in the hope of starting a rousing chant that might be able to fire his partner up. “BOU-LE-VARD!” “BOU-LE-VARD!” Unsurprisingly, the Urban Legend succeeds in his aim; what he does not succeed in achieving however is making any noticeable impact on the fight left in Ghost, as the masked man’s limbs are lolling alarmingly as Davis wrestles him upright again. This time the Perfect Storm places Ghost in a standing headscissors, then grabs him around the waist and hoists upwards before- *WHAM!!* -driving him down with a high-angle powerbomb that folds the masked challenger over again! Davis doesn’t go for the pin this time, instead letting Ghost slump to the mat and grinning around at the fans. “Citizen Davis should be ashamed of himself,” Comet states bluntly, “he is going after Ghost’s weakened neck with no sign of remorse or human feeling!” “This is wrestling,” Riley reminds his commentary partner, “if you go out there with a weakness you’re going to get it exploited. Oh and by the way, on the subject of questionable Law officials in wrestling... does the name William Hearford III ring any bells?” “He had made quite a turnaround in his character,” Comet replies, “and I relished seeing him stand up to the evil that is Revolution Zero-” “-which led to Justin Bowers getting his neck broken,” Riley cuts him off. “Besides, he was at his best when he was bad.” “BOU-LE-VARD!” “BOU-LE-VARD!” The chants are still ringing around the Radio City Music Hall, but even the most markish twelve year-old seems to be realising that they aren’t achieving much at the moment. Ghost is in a bad way, and Sean Davis hasn’t finished with him yet. The big man hooks his opponent as if for a vertical suplex, but the moment the challenger is vertical Davis drops and spikes his head into the mat with a devastating brainbuster! Ghost spasms upon landing and lies still; Davis rolls into the cover and lazily hooks the masked man’s leg... ONE! TWO!! THHHRRRRR- -No! Broken up by Todd Cortez! “YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Matty Kivell removes Todd Cortez from the ring, but Sean Davis appears to have had his fun for now and rises back to his full impressive height before tagging Toxxic back in. The Perfect Storm steps through the ropes and glowers at Cortez from across the ring, but the Urban Legend is more concerned with the condition of his partner. Ghost is certainly not reviving much, a situation that doesn’t seem likely to change as Toxxic hauls him up into a rear headlock before dropping to one knee and driving the other up into the back of his opponent’s neck. Before Ghost can even finish spasming from that Toxxic has popped back upright, then drops all the way down and sends the back of the masked man’s skull into the canvas with a reverse DDT to complete the Detoxx. The Straight-Edge Sensation gets slowly back to his feet, cracks his neck from side-to-side and appears to be thinking about going for the cover, but then looks around at the turnbuckle and seems to decide that it needs a finishing touch. He swiftly grabs the top rope and vaults up, then corkscrews back with the 450 Hangover legdrop- *BANG!* -that misses, as Ghost manages to roll out of the way! “YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “BOU-LE-VARD!” “BOU-LE-VARD!” Toxxic has hurt his hip on landing, but although it smarts a bit he is not the man who has taken an asskicking for the last five minutes and he is easily able to cut the retreating Ghost off before the masked man can even get up to his feet. Toxxic helps him in the little matter, then grabs his opponent’s wrist and attempts to whip him into a neutral corner. The movement is fairly weak and Ghost manages to reverse it... but this is just what Toxxic was banking on, as he vaults to the top rope again and comes flying back with the diving clothesline known as the Role Reversal! *thump!* But Ghost sidesteps that and drives a fist into Toxxic’s gut, sending the World Champion somersaulting over to land hard on his back! “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” The Radio City Music Hall has come alive now, and although he has dropped to one knee Ghost seems to be firing up! The masked man waits for Toxxic to start to rise, then forces himself upright and takes a quick one-step sideways run-up before lashing a boot out at Toxxic’s jaw- *whap* -which is caught by a rather annoyed World Champion. “Oh no...” Comet whispers, as images of Lockdown flash through everyone’s minds. Sure enough, Toxxic spins Ghost around and then quickly bends to hoist the masked man up onto his shoulders. Sure enough, the crowd goes quiet as Toxxic’s hands start to reach up for the Dangerlust... ...but this time, Ghost reaches down and digs the fingers of both hands into Toxxic’s eyes! “AAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!” “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” The masked man slips off his opponent’s shoulders as the blinded Toxxic clutches at his face. Despite his pain the Straight-Edge Sensation knows roughly where Ghost is and turns to try and grab him, but Ghost simply fires off a right hand that causes the World Champion to stagger back into the cables then grabs Toxxic’s wrist and Irish whips him to the other side of the ring! Toxxic hits the far ropes and rebounds but finds Ghost waiting for him and the masked man bends down to take Toxxic up onto his back; legs held firmly in Boulevard hands, head pointing down towards the canvas in the classic set-up for the Van Slaminator... but instead, Ghost flips Toxxic back down into a high-angle spinebuster! *BANG!* “...” The Radio City Music Hall falls into stunned silence for a moment as they crowd looks at the masked man on his knees in the ring. Ghost had Toxxic up for a Van Slaminator, but instead delivered a high-angle spinebuster. “...I’ve never seen Mike Van Siclen do that,” Comet admits. “I’ve been telling you, it’s not Van Siclen!” Riley hisses. “Nor is it some new wrestler ‘honouring’ him! I’m convinced we know the man under that mask!” (“BOU-LE-VARD...”) Ghost looks up, one hand holding the back of his neck. Through the haze of pain he realises that the atmosphere seems to have deadened, and for a moment he can’t work out why. Then he sees Toxxic gasping on the mat in front of him, and some neurones kick into life. To cover his confusion as much as anything else, the wrestler known as Ghost turns and starts to crawl towards his corner where Todd Cortez waits with hand outstretched. “BOUL-LE-VARD...” The chants are getting louder again now, but Toxxic has also garnered enough breath to move and the Straight-Edge Sensation is heading for Sean Davis. “BOU-LE-VARD!” “BOU-LE-VARD!” Ghost reaches out his hand, stretching for the fingers of the Urban Legend that are just too far away... “BOU-LE-VARD!” Toxxic looks up and sees the determined face of Sean Davis staring down, one big hand extended to take the tag. Revolution Zero’s mission to retain the tag titles could ride on this. *smak* *smak* “YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “Cortez is in! Davis is in!” Comet shouts as the two fresh men steps through the ropes and head for each other at top speed, “...and Davis is down!” the superhero finishes as Cortez leaps into the air to deliver a spinning heelkick to the onrushing Perfect Storm. Davis is back up almost immediately however, grabs the rising Cortez and literally throws him up into a powerbomb position. Cortez is having none of it however, and before he can share Ghost’s fate of having his neck treated like an accordion he snaps backwards to counter into a hurricanrana! “LET’S GO COR-TEZ!” The Urban Legend is back up, and has his sights set on Sean Davis. The big man rises and starts to turn, but Cortez is already taking a quick sideways run-up and- SMACK!* -planting a superkick on Davis’ jaw! The impact knocks the HGC Champion down to the mat once more, and now Todd decides that the time is right to try for the quebrada again. This time there is no Marcus Washington to disturb the ropes and he backflips off sweetly... then lands on his feet as he sees Davis roll away at the last moment! *whump* “LET’S GO COR-TEZ!” Sean realises something is wrong when he doesn’t hear the thud he was expecting, but before he can react Cortez has grabbed him and placed his shoulder underneath the Perfect Storm’s jaw. One sitout later and Davis is one his back with his jaw nearly disconnected; Todd Cortez sees an opening and dives on top of his opponent, trying to turn him over and get the Street Dreams locked in! “LET’S GO COR-TEZ!” Todd manages to turn Davis over and hook in the armbar, but before he can apply the Dragon Sleeper Sean seems to realise what he’s up to and forces himself up with all his considerable strength. Todd Cortez just isn’t heavy enough to prevent Davis from doing so and is almost knocked away as the Perfect Storm powers up to his feet. Cortez desperately tries a Shotei... but although it strikes home, Sean Davis is not going to be knocked down as easily as Toxxic. Moment later a boot buries itself in Cortez’ gut, and the Urban Legend is hoisted up into a Canadian backbreaker. “LET’S GO COR-TEZ...” The chants die as Sean Davis bellows in anger with Cortez trapped upside down on his shoulder. Across the ring, Ghost has managed to get back to his feet and tries to step through the ropes to cut the Perfect Storm off, but Toxxic races over and dropkicks him off the apron. *WHAM!* “Cyclone Driver!” Riley squeals, “count, Kivell!” Matty Kivell drops to the mat to do just that... ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! *DING-DING-DING!* “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Ladies and gentlemen, here are your winners and STILL~ SWF Tag Team Champions,” Funyon announces as ‘Battle Ready’ kicks up again in the Radio City Music Hall, “the team of ‘The Perfect Storm’ Sean Davis and ‘The Straight-Edge Sensation’ Toxxic... RRRRRRREVOLUUUUUUU-TION... ZEEEEERRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOO!!” “Citizens, it is a grim day,” Comet announces. “However, coming up next we will hopefully see Landon Maddix defeat Sacred to become Toxxic’s challenger at Slay Ride! Join us, after our LAST commercial break!” FADE OUT

FADE IN The crowd in Radio City Music Hall is quite simply abuzz as Storm returns from commercials. Already standing in the ring with Funyon is two of the competitors for the next match. “Ladies and gentlemen,” booms Funyon, “the following tag team contest is scheduled for one fall! Currently in the ring, at a total combined weight of four hundred sixty pounds, the team of ‘The Paladin’ Chance Silver, and ‘Big Country’ Martin Hunt!” Comet thumbs through his notes in confusion. “I don’t have this match scheduled anywhere on my notes, Robert. What about you?” “Don’t look at me,” Bobby replies with a shrug. “I don’t even know who let these two clowns in the building!” “Are we sure that they didn’t have tickets,” asks Comet. “Perhaps they came here to watch the show. Or, maybe they thought that this was the night for An Evening with Clay Aiken.” “Don’t be ridiculous,” scoffs Riley. “That was last night; and I’ve got to tell you, Clay put on a marvelous performance! It was simply scintillating…” Comet looks at his broadcast colleague skeptically. “And while my broadcast partner is coming down from another homo moment, ladies and gentlemen, let’s see if we can’t find out just who these two unlikely competitors will be facing this evening!” Suddenly, a sharp noise, sounding like a guitar riff, pierces the air, lingering alone for several seconds before it is joined by a drumbeat. A few seconds later, Prodigy’s “Fuel My Fire” kicks into high gear: I've got a word of thanks… Thanks that I'd like to say. For the way that I feel… For the way that I feel today. Got stacks, got stacks, Stacks of chips on my shoulder, In everything I do. ‘Cause I made, I made, I made the mistake… Of trusting you! Yeah, people like you just fuel my fire Yeah, people like you just fuel my fire Yeah, people like you just fuel my fire Yeah, people like you just do… You liar! You liar! You liaaaaar! You liaaaaar! And suddenly, without warning, two figures dressed in black burst from behind the curtain and streak down to the ring! “My word!” exclaims Comet. “Is that…?” "Holy shi-" “Could it…?” “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!” And it’s the fans who answer the uncertainty in this announcing duo, leaping to their feet in the thrill of who stands before them now! “I-I-It can’t be!” ”BUT IT IS!” “Their opponents,” shouts Funyon, trying his hardest to make his voice heard over the fans inside the Radio City Music Hall, who have gone completely ballistic, “at a total combined weight of four hundred thirty-one pounds… Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome back to the S-W-F… WIIIIIILD! AAAAAAAAAAND DANGEROUS!” Johnny Dangerous; the Barracuda, and Wildchild; the Bahama Bomber, slide into the ring and scramble to their feet, racing to the nearby corners then leaping onto the top turnbuckles! The astonished fans all rise to their feet and honor the former tag team champions with a standing ovation! “By Zeus!” exclaims the masked announcer, smiling broadly through his mask. “It’s Wild and Dangerous! Wild and Dangerous have returned to the SWF, and they couldn’t have possibly picked a better time!” Johnny and Wildchild climb down from the turnbuckles and submit themselves the standard knee and elbow pad inspection by referee Red Herrington before making their way into their corner as “Fuel My Fire” fades out. “You can cut the excitement with a knife here in Radio City Music Hall,” squeals Comet. “After countless months, Wild and Dangerous have returned to the SWF, and Bobby, you have to believe that they plan to jump right back into the title picture!” “Well, if they want to get a shot at the tag team titles, they picked a good time to return,” agrees Riley, “because the line of contenders isn’t very long at all. But, it remains to be seen how well they’re able to communicate in the ring, after such a long time away from active competition!” “Well, both of these young men look to be in tremendous shape,” notes Comet, “although I can’t help but notice that Wildchild is looking very different from the last time we saw him in an SWF ring!” Sure enough, aside from the black singlet that Wildchild wears instead of the colorful ensemble fans are used to seeing him in, a quick glance reveals that he is now also adorned in all manner of tattoos, the most conspicuous of which is a band which circles his entire neck. His eyes alone are surrounded by heavy black makeup, as opposed to the once colorful mask of paint that used to cover his entire face. “Look at the sadness in those eyes, Bobby,” says Comet. “Whatever it is that kept him away from a wrestling ring, has clearly had a profound effect on him!” “Well,” says Riley, “there’ve been some horrible rumors flying around in the back about personal tragedy in Wildchild’s life, which I’m not going to repeat on the air out of respect, but I can only imagine, if the rumors are true, how that could effect your entire outlook on life.” “However,” interrupts Comet, having heard the rumors as well, and desperate to steer the conversation away from that line of discussion, “his return to the SWF is nonetheless a welcome sight, and we look forward to his return to active competition, for however long he’s able to stick around this time!” Johnny convinces Wildchild to begin the match on the apron and he turns around to face Martin Hunt, who is starting the match off for his team, as Red Herrington orders the timekeeper to ring the bell, signifying the start of the match: DING DING DING!!! “Bell’s gone,” says Comet, “and we’re underway!” Johnny and Hunt circle each other briefly before engaging in a textbook collar-and-elbow tie-up! The Barracuda quickly takes control, shifting into a side headlock, and prompting Hunt to lead him back towards the edge of the ring. Big Country uses the ropes to aid him as he pushes Johnny across the ring and away from him. Hunt lowers his shoulder and steps into Johnny as he bounces off the ropes… WHAM! … And the Barracuda pitches backwards, falling onto his back in surprise from the force of Martin’s shoulderblock! The Frat Brat turns away from his fallen adversary, looking out into the crowd for approval… BOOOO!! … But finding only jeers. Meanwhile, Johnny Dangerous, smirking at Hunt’s predictable conceit, gets back to his feet and waits for Martin to turn back around before snatching him in another side headlock. Then, before Big Country can react, the Secret Agent jams his hip into Hunt’s midsection as he heaves him off his feet and back down to the canvas with a modified hiptoss! “Nice takedown by the Barracuda,” notes Comet. “He caught Citizen Hunt unawares with that one!” “Well,” concedes Riley, “Hunt should know better than to take his eyes off a former World Heavyweight Champion, but as I said before, only time will tell just how much rust these two have!” Hunt manages to roll onto his stomach and force himself up to his knees, bringing Johnny up with him. The Frat Brat pushes Johnny away and into the ropes once more, this time raising his arm as Dangerous rebounds to deliver a mighty clothesline, but the Barracuda ducks with ease and races across the ring, exploding into the air as he bounces off the ropes a second time and extending his arms and legs fully… SPLASH! … Knocking Hunt down to the canvas with a cross-body block! Herrington drops down to deliver a count, but Johnny bounces back to his feet immediately, greeting Martin as he stands up with a vicious martial arts chop… SMACK! … And stunning him with a stiff Shotei to the chest! Johnny charges towards Hunt as he staggers backwards, deftly shifting his weight to his pivot foot as he raises his arm… CRACK! … And sending Martin Hunt to his back with the force of a running spinning back fist! Johnny brings himself to a halt and looks out to the crowd, who applaud his effort, but just as they cheer for him, there is also a growing number of fans who begin to chant: "DUB-CEE!" "DUB-CEE!" "DUB-CEE!" "DUB-CEE!" A wide grin breaks out on Johnny’s face, as the chant grows louder: "DUB-CEE!" "DUB-CEE!" "DUB-CEE!" "DUB-CEE!" “This place is going crazy,” shouts Comet, desperate to be heard over the din. “They’re demanding to see the Wildchild!” Johnny looks into his partner’s eyes, asking him without words if he’s ready to officially make his return, to which Wildchild nods in the affirmative. Johnny then extends his arm towards his corner… TAG! … And tags in his partner! Radio City Music Hall erupts as the Bahama Bomber prepares to make his return to the ring! “Here he comes,” shrieks Comet. “After nearly eight months, Wildchild is finally about to make his return the SWF!” Wildchild walks away from his corner to the opposite edge of the ring as Johnny pulls Hunt to his feet and drops him back onto the canvas with a Scoop Slam! The Caribbean Cruiser then races across the apron, leaping over the top rope, in one graceful motion, and landing on his feet on the opposing middle rope, using it as a springboard to propel himself backwards into the ring… SPLASH! … And crashing into Martin Hunt with a sensational springboard moonsault! Johnny steps towards Hunt’s corner to prevent his partner from trying to break up the pinfall as Red Herrington dives into position: ONE! TWO! THRE— But, instead of allowing the pinfall, Wildchild inexplicably pulls Hunt’s head off of the canvas! “Well, this is unusual,” observes Comet, as Wildchild pulls Hunt to his feet and shoves him into his own corner, looking into Chance Silver’s eyes and motioning with his fingers as if to say, “Come get some!” Silver, who has spent the early portion of the match braiding his hair, tags his partner tentatively and steps into the ring, his eyes pitch black. "DUB-CEE!" "DUB-CEE!" "DUB-CEE!" "DUB-CEE!" "DUB-CEE!" “This place is going crazy for the Wildchild,” repeats Comet. “You can cut the electricity with a knife!” “Cut the electricity with a knife,” puzzles Riley. “That’s the dumbest cliché I’ve ever heard! Who’d you rip that one off from, Gorilla Schiavone?” Chance approaches Wildchild near the center of the ring, but the Bahama Bomber quickly steps behind him, wrapping his arms around the Paladin’s waist and trapping him in a waistlock, before tripping the bigger man with his heel and pushing him forward in a takedown. Before Chance can even push himself up off of the canvas, Wildchild leaps into the air, swinging his legs forward… WHAM! … And crashes down onto Silver’s back with a leaping senton splash! The Tropical Tumbler bounces to his feet immediately and races towards the ropes, diving feet-first towards the Paladin just as he finally pushes himself off the mat… CRACK! … And blasting Silver in the face with a running baseball slide! Chance bounces backwards and rolls onto his stomach, shaking the cobwebs loose as he tries to return to a standing position, but Wildchild offers no respite, racing past the Paladin to the ropes behind him, and leaping onto the top rope. Wildchild curls himself into a ball as he springs off the ropes… WHAM! … And knocks Silver several feet backwards and onto his duff from the force of his patented Pinball attack! The fans, which had been on their feet ever since Wildchild entered the ring, begin to cheer even louder at seeing one of their favorite moves done by the crowd favorite! “Pinball,” cries Comet. “That’s vintage Wildchild right there! The Bahama Bomber appears to have moved seamlessly back to active competition!” The Human Hurricane slaps his thigh as Silver returns to his feet before charging forward, leaping off of the canvas and whipping his leg sharply through the air… WHAM! … Before nailing the Paladin with a flying leg lariat that knocks him through the ropes and onto the ring apron! Wildchild quickly scrambles to his feet and races towards his opponents’ corner… WHAM! … Knocking an unsuspecting Martin Hunt off of the ring apron with a running dropkick! “That was a cheap shot,” roars Bobby, rising out of his seat. “He had no business sneaking up on Martin Hunt like that!” Seeing that Chance has returned to his feet, Wildchild turns his attention back to the legal man, running across the ring and leaping into the air, sailing over the top rope and landing on the Paladin’s shoulders! In one fluid motion, the Bahama Bomber locks his legs behind Silver’s neck whilst swinging his own body around, arching his back as he pulls Chance off the ring apron… WHAM! … And driving Silver’s head into the concrete floor with a death-defying hurricanrana! Wildchild pulls himself to his knees and unleashes a primal scream as the fans continue to chant his name: "DUB-CEE!" "DUB-CEE!" "DUB-CEE!" "DUB-CEE!" “My word,” shrieks Comet. “What an amazing move by the Wildchild! I’ve never seen him so aggressive before!” “And I’ve never seen Chance Silver looks so…so… dead before,” adds Booby. “Is there a mortician in the house?” Dead or alive, this match isn’t over yet. Knowing this, the Bahama Bomber snaps his attention towards the carcass outside the ring, and slides out after him. He grabs Chance by his mangy hair, drags him to his feet and rolls him under the bottom rope, not even taking note of “Big Country” trying on his ninja sneakers for size, sliding in from behind, “-AND HE’S GOT A CHAIR!” shouts Comet. “Watch out, Citizen Child!” CRACK~!! NOOOOOOOO!!! Hunt misses by mere inches as Wildchild, tipped off by Johnny and the ferociousness of the fan’s jeers, zips out of harms way at the very last second possible! Hunt spins back around, growling as he slices a second shot through the air, hopping to shatter Wildchild’s skull across the front row- CRACK~!! “Agent Dangerous with the save!” Comet cheers as Johnny races around the ring and nails Martin Hunt, squarely, in the back of the head, with a giant sized Johnny Kick not seen since last throw at Toxxic’s noggin, and floors the frat boy immediately! “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!” “Such impeccably timing by the Barracuda,” says Comet, “and that’s what makes this team so effective; knowing when to jump in and make the save and when to pull back.” Riley is much too disgusted to even offer up a reply, grumbling something not for the faint of heart as Johnny and Wildchild stand amidst a shower of praise for the last counter. The two quickly exchange a high-five then turn their attention towards the ring. Inside, Chance Silver, groggily staggering back and forth like a drunken sailor, and trying to make sense of what direction is up. Wild and Dangerous glance back at each other with a grin before nodding and sliding back into the ring themselves. They know they have this team beaten to a pulp. All that matters now is putting an exclamation point on this return match…and so they commence. “Oh no…” “I think we might be in for even more of a treat now,” Comet tries to speculate as Johnny slides into the ring and heads for the Paladin. The secret agent boldly walks up to the reeling Chance Silver and- SMACK! “WHOOOOOOOOO!!” Sends one knife-edged chop into his opponent’s chest to send him in a standing spiral before ducking down and raising Chance off his feet in an Electric Chair Drop as Wildchild ascends the corner post, sending the crowd into a frenzy! Wildchild springs from the turnbuckle just as Johnny sends Chance for a ride, face-first, towards the ground and catches him by the back of the head, absolutely plastering his face into the mat as Comet roars: “DAAAAAAAAAAAAANGEROUS DROOOOOOOOP~!” WHAAAAM!!!! “OOOOOOH!” Finally, the Bahama Bomber rolls Silver over and goes for the pin as Herrington drops to count… ONEEE!!! TWOOOOO!!!!!! THREEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!! DING DING DING!!! “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!” “The winners of this bout by pinfall,” booms Funyon, “WIIIIIIIIIIIIIILD!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAND DAAAANGEROUUUUS!!!!” “Just like that, this match is over!” Comet excitedly says, as “Fuel by Fire” pounds out from the speakers once more. “What an exciting display of athleticism Wild and Dangerous showed us tonight, and what an exciting night for the tag team division!” Herrington raises Johnny and Wildchild’s arms in victory with the crowd cheering their approval. When he releases their arms, Johnny heads to the edge of the ring and motions to a ringside assistant for a microphone, receiving his request without hesitation. He strolls back towards the middle of the ring where his partner stands, raising the microphone to his lips, but stops when the crowd fires up an overbearing chant of his name. “JOOOHN-NY!” “JOOOHN-NY!” “JOOOHN-NY!” “It’s good to see you to,” says Johnny, beaming, which gets another good pop from the crowd in reply. “Wildchild and myself have been anticipating this moment for a while now, and to say we are happy to be back would be an understatement; we are thrilled to be back here in the Smartmark Wrestling Federation!” “And I think I speak for everyone when I say I am thrilled to have them back!” Comet happily adds in, which only gets a smug look from his partners face. “Speak for yourself, Comet,” replies Bobby, “I think we were better off without these two cheating clowns here! Have you forgotten how this so called team acts in matches? They’re the biggest cheats in tag team history!” “The last time Wild and Dangerous was here,” continues Johnny, “we were in the thick of the hunt for the SWF Tag Team Championship as I’m sure most of you will remember. That ended rather abruptly when Wildchild here was injured however, so we never quite got a chance to get a rematch for those titles…” “I think I know where this is going,” Comet giddily says, and so do most of the fans. Obvious by the mounting cheers, ready to fully unleash themselves once he makes the official announcement. “So now, as of tonight, before we see the current Tag Team Champions defending the crown against Hollywood Boulevard, I’d like to offer a challenge!” “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!” “Hold on now,” says Johnny, trying to keep the fans from getting ahead of him. “Whoever wins tonight, Hollywood Boulevard-” “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!” “…Revolution Zero-” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” “It really doesn’t matter. Though I’d like to say I really hope it’s Revolution Zero. No offense to the Boulevard, I just have personal issues with a certain member of the Revolution that I never quite got a chance to voice just yet. Regardless, when the titles are decided tonight, and you go back, wondering who your next opponent could possibly be-” “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!” “That’s right,” says Johnny. “Wild and Dangerous is here, ready to challenge the Tag Team Champions! Since I know that Champions are never one to refuse a fight, we’re ready whenever you are!” “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!” “Wild and Dangerous is back!” exclaims Johnny, before tossing the microphone to the side. Johnny climbs up a corner post as does the Wildchild, basking in the cheers of many as flashbulbs pop from all sides of the Radio City Music Hall… As we: FADE OUT.

Double no show here

"We're just about ready to start up this show with our first match, Riley...a match between current SWF Cruiserweight Champion "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins, former SWF USJL Champion Manson, and former SWF ICTV Champion "The Icon" Max King!" Comet starts off. "But it's not just any normal match." Riley begins. "It's a match that has been dubbed a Holy Hell match...and it takes place in a church, of all places. I have to wonder what these people on the booking committee were thinking when they made this match. We must REALLY want to offend some of the communities that watch our show." "...I don't think that's what the committee intended when they made this contest, they just wanted to have a match between three great wrestlers who have nothing to do right now. We now take you to St. Mary's Cathedral, where the contestants are coming out." The camera cuts over to the church where the match will be taking place. The referee is waiting, as from three different entrances, the three competitors make their way out. Jenkins still seems to be angry from the match with Maddix two shows ago, and has a look on his face that seems like he wants to just kill someone. King walks in, not taking his eyes off of Manson as he enters...apparently there's still some bad blood with him against Manson. Manson simply has a look of determination, ready to get a win and get back on track with his career in this match. "The referee bringing the three men together now, going over the rules of this contest before we get underway." Comet notes. "Just to go over the rules, this match basically is a Hardcore Match with Elimination rules, with the added way of losing being if you're thrown out of the church." "And in my opinion, this isn't the type of match that really suits someone like Max King OR Spike Jenkins. They're WRESTLERS, they're NOT brawlers. This is so pulling for Manson it's not even funny." "That's just your opinion...I'm sure King knows a few tricks to get by. King is trying to go after Manson...the match hasn't even started yet though Riley!" "Why should that matter? It is just a glorified street fight, remember." Riley reminds. The camera shows King bad-mouthing Manson, and Manson just smirking confidently. However, since neither man is paying attention to him, Spike suddenly jumps both men, leaping up and hitting them both with a double clothesline. A Church Bell gongs loudly, apparently signaling the start of the match now. Jenkins grabs the lighter of the two competitors in this contest, Manson, and lifts him up to his feet, ready to toss him towards the nearest exit to the church. King, however, is smart enough to grab the ankle of Manson, pulling him down to the floor of the church before Spike can get a chance to toss him to the outside. Jenkins turns his attention to King, and for his trouble gets a hard elbow shot right into the gut, King getting up and ramming his head right into the backrest of one of the pews, taking him for the moment out of the match, and moving his attention back over to Manson, who has turned to face King and catches him off guard with a forearm to the bridge of King's nose just at the right moment. Manson grabs King in the side, apparently to attempt the side belly-to-belly suplex. Jenkins is back up in time, using the backrest of a pew to leap off and grab Manson's head, hitting him with a floating neckbreaker. Spike gets back up, and is immediately grabbed from behind around the waist by Max King and flung into a modified version of a German Suplex onto the floor. "These three men are quickly showing that this isn't going to be easy on each other, Riley...and the way this match is starting off it could easily go either way." Comet notes. King kicks at the body of Jenkins while he's still down on the floor of the church, before moving back over to Manson...grabbing him by the hair and literally dragging him to the door of the church. He lifts Manson up over his shoulder, ready to toss him out of the church and eliminate him from the match...however Manson manages to slip out behind him, and catches King from behind with a lariat to the back of the neck, knocking King flat onto his face. Manson doesn't stop there though, grabbing King by the hair and repeatedly slamming his face into the floor of the church, holding up King's face by the hair so the camera can see blood coming out of the nose of the former ICTV Champion. While Manson is showing the world King's face, he is unaware of Jenkins, holding up a collection plate, and slamming it right into the back of the head of Manson. Jenkins doesn't stop with just the one shot, however...repeatedly bashing Manson on the back of the head with the collection plate. King takes this moment to try to squirm away, however Jenkins notices, and manages to nail him right into the head in retaliation. "And now it looks like Spike Jenkins is the dominant man in the church at the moment." Riley states. "He's really taking it to the back of the heads of both King and Manson at the moment. ...I am really torn in this match, in case you couldn't tell." "It's very obvious right now that you're torn, Riley. Even to a deaf person it's obvious." Comet notes. "Jenkins letting his emotions from losing the match with Maddix a while back get the best of him now, and that's possibly fueling his fire in this match." The collection plate that Jenkins was using as a weapon is now dented beyond recognition, so the cruiserweight champion tosses it aside, going over to Manson now and rolling him over for the first cover of the match, the referee diving in to count it. ONE! TWO! King comes over, despite the back of his head bleeding from the shots that he took not too long ago, and nails Spike right between the shoulders with a forearm shot. "King keeping the match alive, otherwise I think that Spike Jenkins would have eliminated Manson. I don't fully understand that logic though, King saving Manson like that." "It's simple Comet, King...despite Manson seeing the light...still has some bitterness for Manson, and HE wants to be the person that eliminates Manson from the match, no matter what." King starts getting up, holding the back of his head in pain still from the plate shots, trying to get up before Spike does so Jenkins won't have a chance to attack him. That proves futile for the moment, as the Cruiserweight Champion leaps up from off of the floor, nailing King in the face with a dropkick. The Icon wobbles back on the kick, actually bumping his back against a fancy candle stand. Jenkins charges at King, and King takes this chance to grab the candle-stand, using it to block the oncoming Jenkins and hit him right in the face. Spike collapses to the floor of the church, and King almost IMMEDIATELY dives on top of him for the cover. One! TWO! Instinctively and surprisingly, Manson suddenly comes over, breaking up the pin-fall himself with a kick to the head of Max King. "Apparently, King isn't the only one that wants this match to go on, Comet. I don't know what Manson was thinking there, but he just cost King getting a pin over the Cruiserweight Champion." "That was just probably a force of habit for someone like Manson, as he's used to tag team and triple threat matches where the first fall will end the match, and not these elimination rules." Manson doesn't even wait for King to start to stir off of the body of Jenkins, leaping a bit off of the floor and driving his elbow ring into the spine of King, making sure the combined bodyweight of both himself and "The Icon" hits Spike and causes him some damage as well. Manson pulls King off of Spike now, shoving him aside and going to cover Spike himself, thinking that's going to work in his favor! One! TWO! Spike manages to kick out from the move just in time, showing that he still has some fight in this match, despite what has just happened to him. Manson reaches down to pick up Spike...however Jenkins suddenly jumps up like a spring, catching him off guard with a rake of the eyes! Manson holds his face a bit, blinded from the move, and this allows Jenkins to get up and rushes over, twisting him over with a spinning neckbreaker! Manson being out of the match for the moment allows for Spike to go over to King, ready to dish out some punishment on the man who once beat Maddix for the ICTV Championship. However, King swings wildly when Jenkins approaches him, and manages to catch Jenkins in the face with a backhand right onto the bridge of Jenkins' nose. King, still bleeding from the nose himself from the assault that Manson gave him earlier on in this match (and possibly thinking that he got Manson with the move), grabs Jenkins by the head while Jenkins is holding his nose and drops him face first onto the floor with a DDT! "This action is going back and forth so rapidly, I don't think we can yet determine who has the advantage in the contest!" Comet notes. "This match is still anyone's game...but I think that Jenkins might be out of it for the moment." King sees that it was Jenkins that he was attacking and not Manson, and shrugs it off for the moment, going over to Manson and catching him in the face while he's down on all fours, hitting him with a soccer-style kick! Post-kick, King reaches down and starts to lift up Manson by the head, but as King's hands approach his head, Manson swings his arms out, breaking away from the grip and starting to slug away at the face of King as hard as he can. With King falling off of balance somewhat, Manson takes a few steps back, and nails him right into the jaw with a hard Yakuza kick! Manson smiles a bit, about to go and cover King for the elimination now, but Jenkins manages to come over and hit Manson HARD with a lariat that knocks him down to the floor! King and Manson land in a way that they're almost next to each other, and Jenkins decides to tempt fate, laying his body on top of the bodies of both men for the cover! One! TWO! King and Manson manage to both kick out of the pin at about the same time, keeping the match going on. "Well, you have to give Jenkins some points for trying there...VERY smart move on the part of the Cruiserweight Champion." Riley notes. "He was just MOMENTS away from beating BOTH men!" "But I don't think he realized that King and Manson weren't that out of the match." Comet comments. "He might have gotten it later in the bout, but not this early in the match." Jenkins starts standing up, apparently waiting for either Max King or Manson to get up to their feet, and seeing where they are so he can decide on the way to attack. King manages to be the first one to get to his feet, and right in front of the door to the church. Jenkins charges full speed ahead, ready to knock King out of the church and eliminate him from the match. However, King seems to anticipate Spike rushing in, and ducks his head down at the right moment, back-dropping him up...over...and out of the church! "Spike Jenkins is out of this match!" Comet notes. "I think Jenkins wasn't fully focusing on the match, and that cost him the chance to get the victory." The camera goes into a split-screen effect, showing that Jenkins is outside and FURIOUS at the fact that he was eliminated like he was. He tries to get back into the church to get his revenge, however referees are quick to grab him and pull him away from the building, reminding him of the fact that he lost the match and is no longer able to participate in it. Back in the church, King wipes his brow in relief, glad that this has become a one on one affair instead of a three-way match. King walks away from the door now as Jenkins, on the outside, is drug away as to prevent him from trying anything rash. Manson has gotten up to his feet, but King is there to greet him with a right hand. However, that doesn't seem to keep Manson down at all, as he retaliates with a right hand of his own! King tries again, but this time, Manson blocks the attack, and nails him right into the face with a forearm shot. With the lower part of Max King's face now covered in blood from his broken nose, Manson grabs "The Icon" by the arm, and whips him HARD face first into the nearby stone alter! Manson climbs on top of the alter now while King is still down, and leaps off the alter, dropping a leg right across the throat of "The Icon". Manson then goes for the cover, no one able to save King this time like there was a few moments ago. One! TWO! THRE...no! Somehow King is able to get his shoulder up, despite having his head crash into the alter like it did. "Manson I think is surprised by the fact that King managed to kick out like he did." Comet notes. "He better not get too frustrated though, because he might make a mistake like Jenkins did only a few seconds ago and get eliminated from the match by surprise." "I don't know if something like THAT will happen, Comet." Riley notes. "But I do feel that Manson is forgetting just how great a guy like King is." Manson for the moment leaves King on the floor in front of the alter, looking for a good weapon to use against King to further the punishment. He looks surprised when he finds a steel chair, apparently used for the choir to sit on, and grabs the chair as quickly as he can, rushing over to King and apparently planning to hit him with the chair. As Manson raises the chair up to swing down onto King's body, however, "The Icon" sits up and catches Manson between the legs with a hard low blow! Manson drops the chair and starts to hold his...area...in pain at the feeling, allowing King to knee him once into the back, and once into the face! "There's the Complex, Comet! Max King struck just at the right moment, and even with a broken nose continues on the fight, hoping that he's going to get the win!" Riley states. King goes on top of Manson for the cover now, hoping in his heart that this is the moment that he is waiting for. One! TWO! THREE...NO! Manson manages to get the shoulder up. "King was only nanoseconds away from getting the win in this match, if you ask me." Comet notes. "Manson still had enough wherewithal to realize the position that he was in at the time though." "Man, this is a great match!" Riley calls. "Of course, ANY match that Max King is in is a great match, if you ask me." King rolls away from Manson at the moment, sitting down with his back against the alter, resting up for the moment. Seeing the chair that Manson brought over to try to blast him with, King smiles a bit, reaching over for the chair himself and using it as a boost to get back up to his feet. Once fully back up into a vertical position, King starts jabbing Manson into his ribs with the steel chair, making sure that Manson gets some punishment put onto him. As soon as that occurs, King raises the chair up over his head, and swings it down HARD onto Manson's side, the sound of the crack of metal against flesh reverberating throughout the halls of the church now in a sickening way! Most competitors would probably be satisfied with themselves at doing that, however King has a look on his face that seems to say he doesn't feel that this alone was enough. King grabs Manson by the hair, dragging Manson over to the organ that is used for the music. The camera zooms in to show King smiling a bit as he approaches the organ. "Hey Manson, you look like you need some music to soothe your soul." King says...before slamming Manson's head repeatedly into the keys of the organ...a strange symphony playing through the pipes! King shakes his head. "That song didn't work...hang on." King says, tossing Manson back down to the floor...before cracking his knuckles and starting to play "The Entertainer" onto the keys. "...now what is King thinking about right now, Riley?" Comet asks. "This isn't the time or the place to try and show off your musical prowess, if you ask me." "Well, no one asked you, and I'm kinda enjoying a brief break from the action like this to hear the skills of Max King in other fields other than wrestling." King looks at the referee, who is admonishing King for not continuing on with the match and doing what he's doing. King sighs, and says something along the lines of "everyone is a critic", before turning back over to the downed Manson. Manson, however, isn't as downed as he would have hoped, and as soon as King turns around he is hit with a spinebuster right onto the floor in front of the organ! Manson stays on after the spinebuster, hoping for the win with that sudden move! One! TWO! King manages to kick out however, showing that the match is still a ways from being over now. Manson doesn't seem to mind that fact, however, and walks back over to the alter again, trying to find just the right weapon. What he finds is a bible with a metal covering over it, giving it a fancy look for a bible. "...oh come on now, there are some things that I don't feel are appropriate..." Comet notes. "And this is one of them." "Well, why don't you go over to them and tell Manson to stop using that?" Riley asks. "I'm SURE that Manson will listen to you if you tell him that." He adds, sarcasm dripping from his voice as he says this. Manson closes the bible as tightly as he can, making sure that it is set up perfectly for what he is planning. Manson walks back over to King...seeing that "The Icon" is on his knees...and swings the bible so the metal part hits King right into the head! Manson tosses "The Good Book" aside now, and lays down to cover King! One! TWO! THREE...NOOOO! "Max King STILL managing to kick out of the attack by Manson." Comet notes. "I don't know how much more that either man has in this match, but they're showing that neither of them are ready to give up this contest." "...I guess King is a somewhat religious man though, Comet. After all, non-religious men would have been taken down and out for good. That shows how good a man King is." Manson spits down on the body of King, apparently getting more and more angry at the fact that he can't seem to keep King down for the count at the moment, and instead is having to deal with King continuing to fight on. He lifts King back up into a vertical position, flipping "The Icon" over his shoulder (and wincing while doing so, showing that he hasn't completely blocked out the pain that he feels from earlier on in the battle), and then dropping King shoulder first into his awaiting knee with a well-placed shoulder-breaker. Manson once again goes for the cover! One! TWO! This time, before the three count can even be considered, King raises his hand up and jams two fingers right into the eyes of Manson. "...some good, religious man in King, Comet." Comet notes. "What kind of good man would use fingers to the eyes in a contest like this?" "...a SMART man, Riley. This match has no rules, remember, so that was just as legal as anything else in the contest!" "Well, unfortunately for Manson's sake, that much is true." Comet admits. "I just wonder how much more King has though." King starts to get back up to his feet, Manson still distracted with the pain that is in his eyes from King's attack moments ago. King rushes over to Manson while he's still doubled over, hitting him with a running knee strike right into the face! King doesn't follow this up with a pin, instead grabbing the legs of Manson while he's still down, and leaning back to slingshot him face first into the organ! As Manson bounces off the organ from the hit, King quickly comes up behind Manson, rolling him up and putting all of his bodyweight on the pin in the small package! One! TWO! Manson STILL manages to kick out though. "Geez, what the heck is up with these guys? I'm sure that I would have been beaten by now from all of the punishment that these people are taking in this match!" Riley notes. "I guess that both of these men are feeling that they need this win as much as they possibly can." Comet states. "And they're not about to give up so easily. In fact, I don't know if a pin is going to get the victory in this match..." King grabs the legs of Manson while he's still down on the floor, hooking them up into a figure-four style position...and turning Manson over onto the floor with a Texas Cloverleaf! "Well, how about a submission, Comet?" Riley states. "This could be the one thing that King was looking for to give him the edge in this match!" "Max King has that Texas Cloverleaf locked in hard and tight on Manson, and there are no ropes for Manson to grab a hold of!" Comet states. "Manson has to find a way to reverse this hold, otherwise he's going to have no chose but to either submit or pass out from the pain of the hold!" Manson continues to squirm under the body of King, who is continuing to pull back and stretch at the body of Manson as hard as he can. King is unaware of what Manson is doing with his hands, facing in a way where Manson's head and arms are facing away from his body, and the former USJL Champion is starting to reach around with his hands, trying to find the steel chair that he tried to use on King earlier on in the match. He eventually gets a hand on it, and quickly FLINGS it into the back of the head of King, causing King to crumple down onto the floor of the church. However, the pain in Manson's body from the Cloverleaf is still apparent, and he is unable to capitalize. "Well, while that move didn't get the desired victory that I'm sure Max King was hoping for, it did allow for him to get some major damage onto the body of Manson. That is NOT a move that you should be taking if you had your knee broken in the past." Comet states. "And that's why it was such a smart move on the part of King. However, I'm not sure if it's going to keep Manson down and out as long as King would like..." Riley notes. Manson holds his legs in pain, King holds his head in pain, and the referee is just waiting for one of the two men to get back up to their feet and continue on with the match...unable to do anything else at the moment. Manson grabs onto the side of the alter that he used as a weapon before, trying to use it to pull himself onto his feet...in the meantime, King starts to literally crawl across the floor of the church, towards the door. "I think I see a game-plan forming right here, Comet!" Riley notes. "Look at King crawling over to the door of the church...he's hoping for Manson to make the same mistake that Jenkins did earlier on in the match!" "That is a smart move, but a risky one. Manson could just as easily knock King out of church and get the win himself." Comet states. King grabs onto the hinge of the door, using it to pull himself up to his feet himself. There's a good distance now separating both King and Manson from each other, and the referee is just standing right between the two of them, waiting to see what either of these combatants will do to each other. Manson and King, seeing that the person that they're trying to beat is on opposite sides of the church, start to approach each other slowly. Manson gets the first strike in, catching King right into the jaw with a palm strike, and turns around to grab King by the head with the Consequences. King senses it coming though, pushing Manson away just enough, before grabbing him by the head and trying to hit him with the King Buster. King manages to lift Manson up, but Manson uses his momentum to flip over King and get behind him, out of the move. Manson tries to hit King with the Consequences again while King is off guard, but King drops down before Manson can get a good hold of the move, and clips Manson right into the knees that he damaged just moments ago. Manson collapses, but King catches him before he completely falls, holding him into the Dragon Sleeper style position, and pulling back with his patented submission move...the Compressor! "And now Max King has his trademarked move on Manson!" Comet notes. "I haven't seen any way to get out of this move yet, and I don't think that Manson is going to find a way anytime soon!" "This is it Comet...I'm sure that this is it!" Manson struggles, apparently trying to roll out of the Compressor to get free and continue on. However, the raged expression on King's bloody face shows that he's not about to let go of the hold anytime soon. Manson finally gives in, and submits right onto the floor. Max King lets go of the submission hold, a big smile of relief on his face as he stands up to his feet, the referee raising his hand, and declaring King the winner. King just pulls away, about to walk off and get some rest. At the same time, Manson is holding his body in pain from the Compressor, the referee checking on Manson. "Max King actually won a match as fairly as possible!" Comet notes. "And he has finally gotten the revenge that he was looking for over Manson." "Well, it's good to see that much!" Riley says. "Maybe this will be a good night for the guys that I like!" "That is possible. Don't go away, this show is just getting started!" Comet concludes, as the camera fades on the hurting Manson being checked on by the referee.

Where the crap are the matches that are supposed to be in my box?

Consider that last-gen games on a system can push the hardware farther than possible, sometimes, and games could look that good.

STEVE is tops? Wow, what a world.

Congratulations, I guess, even though you may in fact be a complete jackass who lied to me.

Make sure it's baking soda AND peroxide.

The Smartmarks wrestling Federation presents... SWF LOCKDOWN, WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 17TH, LIVE FROM THE PEPSI CENTER IN DENVER, COLORADO! (5:00pm PDT, 8:00pm EDT; check local listings) Send marked matches, promos, etc. to Ace309 Opening Promo: Up for grabs Back in America, folks. America, fuck yeah! CLIMBING THE MOUNTAIN Carnage vs Sacred Carnage will in fact, get his World Title shot on Smarkdown. But until that day, Carnage will fight a Hall-of-Famer, and someone who, perhaps, knows more about true carnage than Carnage himself: Sacred. Rules: DQ and countout apply. Word Limit: 5500 Send To: Thoth CRUISERWEIGHT TITLE CONTENDERSHIP MATCH Kaine vs Austin Sly According to my drunk post, “Because righ now Spiek still sucks ass and we need to fix that,” and by god we will, as one of these people gets the chance to rip that belt off his waist. (Joking, Spike, but you have to defend that thing, you know) Rules: DQ and countout apply. Word Limit: 4500 Send To: 5_moves_of_doom TAG TITLE CONTENDERSHIP MATCH Andrea Montgomery & The Ghost vs Alan Clark & Annie Eclectic Andrea has a pretty good record when it comes to making new tag teams. The Birdman... the Ghost... Zutroy. Well, now they can go for the gold, against Alan Clark and Annie E, who do not get a hype package. Rules: DQ and countout apply. Word Limit: 5000 Send To: Ace309 TRIPLE THREAT FIRST PIN WINS David Cross vs Max King vs Stryke Cross is in a sea of two sharks: King and Stryke. Can Cross do the impossible and jump not one, but two sharks? Word Limit: 5500 Send To: Suicide King SINGLES MATCH Mike Hall vs Uncle Filthy Checking to see if you exist. No-show and be taken off the active roster. Rules: DQ and countout apply. Word Limit: 3500 Send To: Thoth TAG TEAM MATCH Spike Jenkins & Sean Davis vs Manson & Todd Cortez Is there infighting in Rev 0? I sense infighting. All good stables have infighting. Except the Clan, we just gave people arm cancer. Midnight Carnival threw pies with pandas in them. Manson and Todd Cortez are not in-fighters. They are out-boxers. OMG BOXING JOKE that no one understands. Rules: DQ and countout apply. Word Limit: 5000 Send To: chirs3 OPENING MATCH Christian Fury vs Danny Dagda #8 and #9, per the stipulations of the battle royale, face each other here for reasons that I forgot, because that battle royale is really complicated and a 21st does something to a person, I think. Rules: DQ and countout apply. Word Limit: 4500 Send To: 5_moves_of_doom

Can I put a picture of my cock here?

I'm the bad boy of CC. Yeah. *throws back a 40*

I know that, read the description. I said Opening Match because it is in fact, the opening match. Or would you like someone to hold your hand?

DSeirously, we write shit for a fed, and a iI grad eyou sometimes And really what it sthte point? I mean, seioruslyt, no one is going to fucking reaf this and think we are good writes or shit And it's not like we are angel fucking demar in real life coming off the ufcking top ropes or some tshit Thoth was a cool chaarcter buti Men whe wasn't like god though I beat Tom Flesher and he dsucked ass We shoudl bring back stubby mcweed so I can tell him I fired him because I felt like it and then we can wrestle and I win bcause stubby jacks off to asian women he needs to represent his own race which lisis like the cuauacsisoisnss I thnik thta we should form a novel wiritng league where we ewrite like, nmovles and then we write them, and read them and read them back and discuss Because wreally that is the point oif this fed is to read and write, andb utubut we don't do enough reading, we need to acknowledge reach other's presences and wwfind some leel and pon which we can respect ecachpt pthother Because righ now Spiek still sucks ass and we need to fix that Toxxic is a homo

ThothBeyond does in fact, have Halo 2.

“Well Citizens, what a spectacular match that was!” Comet says enthusiastically. “Now we know the rankings for the Cold Front Tournament, with every SWF wrestler competing for a shot at the World Heavyweight Title!” “Some of the people in there are better than others, I’ll grant you,” Riley replies, “but I doubt you’ll find a single person who can compete with our current World Champion!” “Oh please,” Comet scoffs, “mark my words Robert; the Straight-Edge Sensation’s days as champion are numbered!” Abruptly the Smarktron whites out and the opening chord of ‘Rookie’ by Boy Sets Fire crashes out over the Dublin Arena. The response is mixed - mainly boos with a few scattered cheers - but regardless of whether they love him or hate him the crowd rises for the arrival of the man Riley and Comet have just been talking about. As if in direct response to Comet’s last statement, jagged white lettering flashes up onto the screen as it darkens: ‘PREPARE TO BE PROVED WRONG...’ The Smarktron flashes up images from notable matches - the All-Show Brawl with Insane Luchador, the infamous Glass Jawbreaker on Aecas, the Caffeine Bomb on Kibagami and the Super Intoxxication that won him the World Title for the first time - all interspersed with the familiar lopsided grin and the words ‘REVOLUTION ZERO’ and ‘STRAIGHT-EDGE SENSATION’. The shot changes to footage of Toxxic taking Mike Van Siclen off a balcony and through a table, the devastating landing timed to coincide with the- *BAM-BAM-BAM-bap-BOOOM!!* -explosion of red pyro that signifies the arrival of the SWF’s premier straight-edger! The smoke drifts for second before a familiar figure strides through, World Title belt slung over his shoulder and his girlfriend at his shoulder. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Funyon booms, “making his way to the ring at this time, he is the leader of Revolution Zero and the SWF WORLD... HEAVYWEIGHT... CHAMPION... the ‘Straight-Edge Sensation’... TOXXXXXX-IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIC!!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” The majority of the fans in the Dublin Arena aren’t very fond of the Straight-Edge Sensation, but Toxxic ignores them as he reaches the bottom of the ramp and rolls into the ring, popping upright and signalling for a microphone from Funyon. The veteran ring announcer hands it over and exits, leaving Toxxic and Jet alone. “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” Toxxic looks around at the Irish crowd for a few moments. “Is it because I is English?” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Yeah yeah, whatever,” the World Champion says, waving his hand dismissively as Dublin jeers at him. “You hate the English, I get the bloody idea. Of course, you’ll probably cheer the Americans despite the fact that most of them pretend to be Irish on St. Patrick’s day and couldn’t give a flying fuck about you for the rest of the year.” The Straight-Edge Sensation looks over at his girlfriend for conformation, but Jet merely shrugs. “But I digress. What I came out here to talk about was this title belt over my shoulder.” Toxxic unslings the World Heavyweight Championship and lays it down in the middle of the ring, then takes a step back and looks at it thoughtfully. “Doesn’t look like much, does it?” he asks after a couple of seconds. “It’s just a big, gold belt. Just from looking at it, you would never guess that this piece of metal has seen some of the most vicious and bloody confrontations ever sanctioned by human laws.” The straight-edger looks up and around at the crowd, and there is a strange glint in his eyes. “El Luchador Magnifico impaled Chris Wilson’s hands for this. Va’aiga nearly broke Danny Williams’ neck. Men of such quality as the Suicide King, ‘Grand Slam’ Mark Stevens, Thugg, MacPhisto, Tom Flesher, Nathaniel Kibagami,” Toxxic says the last two names with a sour twist of his mouth, “have fought and bled for it. Some held it for only a matter of days. Others held it for months. But lately, no-one has managed to hold onto it for long at all. In fact, no-one had managed to retain it at a Pay-Per-View since Genesis IV... until last Sunday. “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “Last Sunday at Ashes 2 Ashes, I faced Annie Onita for that title in a Street Fight,” Toxxic states, looking around at the crowd. “I can honestly say it was one of the hardest matches of my career... but I won, and did what no-one else has done in over a year. You are looking at the most dominant World Champion of 2004.” “Citizens, this man is an arrogant, obnoxious and reprehensible piece of work,” Comet hisses over his mic. “Unfortunately he is, on this one point, alarmingly accurate.” “But wait,” Toxxic says, holding up a hand. “I don’t get to rest on my laurels, oh no. No, even before I went into Ashes 2 Ashes I knew who I’d have to face when I came out the other side. A man who won the right to face me in a Fatal Four-Way. A man who, like me, kickstarted his career in the SWF with a run with the Hardcore Gamer’s Championship. One big, demented and in all probability ugly son of a bitch named... Carnage.” “FRRRREEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAK!” “FRRRREEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAK!” The chants aren’t as derogatory as usual - most of the Dublin Arena would like nothing better than to see Carnage step out from behind the curtains, make his way down to the ring and go after the World Champion. However, whether due to dissatisfaction with their chants or for reasons of his own the masked madman does not appear. “Is this the level that the booking committee have sunk to?” Toxxic asks the air in apparent bewilderment. “They shove three no-hopers and a depressed stablemate of mine in a match to see who gets to face me? Couldn’t they find any better challengers? I mean,” he continues, “at least when Johnny Dangerous stepped up he earned the shot by beating Dace Night, and let me tell you that’s no easy matter. But no, Carnage wins some throwaway card-opener and then gets bumped to the big time.” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “Well let me tell you this,” the Straight-Edge Sensation says forcefully, jabbing a finger at the World Title as it lies on the canvas. “I’m not giving this up to some psycho with a mask! Carnage - if that is your real name - I’m not scared of you! I’ve fought bigger, tougher and stronger than you, and that was just in the Unholy Trinity! I beat Aecas on my first Pay-Per-View! I beat Janus to win this title in the first place! Sunshine, I have made a bloody career out of beating big, slow idiots, and I’m not going to stop now simply because you happen to think you’re Hannibal Lecter!” “FRRRREEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAK!” “FRRRREEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAK!” The chants are growing louder now, but Toxxic ignores them as he leans down to scoop the World Title up. “Carnage, I’d look very carefully for whatever passes for your brain and I’d start using it,” the straight-edger advises. “This isn’t going to be Hardcore, this is going to be a straight-up match! No barbed wire, no baseball bats, no handy glass windows to chuck your opponent through. There are just three men in the SWF who have ever beaten me in a straight-up singles match; you may have delusions of adding your name to that list, but if you do I have a piece of advice for you.” Toxxic slings the World Title back over his shoulder and heads for the ropes, then ducks through them and drops down to the floor. “...Prepare To Be Proved Wrong!” With that, the Straight-Edge Sensation throws the mic carelessly back over his shoulder into the ring and sets off up the entrance ramp with Jet trailing him as ever. “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” FADE OUT Copyright Smartmarks Wrestling Federation 2004 ‘Raising workrates by typing faster’

The SWF logo flashes across the screen, and instead of going through the opening graphics we are brought right into the middle of a packed Dublin Arena! There is only a second to see the capacity crowd before the house lights drop, and the trademark volley of blue and white pyrotechnics signal the beginning of another SWF Storm!! BOOM!!! BOOM!!! SHAKALAKABOOMBOOM!!!!! The houselights turn on, and we see a throng of screaming Irish wrestling fans! The camera zooms in on a few of the proudly held signs; alas, those chosen seem to be written entirely in Gaelic. Sorry, home viewers. However, those that drew pictures seem to be using a common motif that implies that Toxxic = Horse's Ass. As the Storm theme picks up once more the camera returns to the announce desk and our very own heterosexual lifemates, Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley! Comet clears his throat... "Hello, and welcome to SWF STORM! We are coming to you live from the Dublin Arena, here in the cradle of Irish culture! We have another packed house here as we continue our European tour, and I and all of the SWF personnel would like to thank all of the great English fans who made Ashes 2 Ashes such a success!" "Too right, Comet!" Riley adds. "We are fresh off the heels of a momentous evening that will go down in history! A momument of bloodshed, brutality, and bloody-mindedness that have set a new standard for our PPVs! Between the Hardcore Title match, the vicious ICTV match, and the epic Hell in a Cell match, it was truly a night for the sadist in us all!" "And don't forget the other great matches, Robert! Toxxic broke the curse last night by successfully defending the World Title at a PPV! Two... or maybe three of our greatest veterans returned as Sacred and Silent and some guy named Ghost all came back and made an immediate impact! It was as if the card was made by some sort of mad genius!" "How could I forget?" Riley exults! "It was the night in which the age-old question was answered! Evil triumphed over good! The Suicide King proved once and for all everything and anything he might have done over the past four years was worth it, because it led him to victory over Grand Slam!" "You poor, deluded little man." "Whatever. King won, and Grand Slam is gone forever! His legacy is no more! He failed when it was most important, and King was right, absolutely right about everything!" Comet shakes his head sadly at his partner. "I think you underestimate our fans, Robert. They won't remember Mark Stevens' final loss. They'll remember the months and years that he went all out for their entertainment, in the belief that there is a right way and a wrong way to succeed in this business!" "The fans are chumps, and so are you." Before this stunning dialogue can continue, the houselights drop once more... "ALL ABOARD! AH HAH HAH HAH HAH!!!" The crowd instantly erupts into boos in Pavlovian fashion as the second most-hated man in the federation (be fair; Toxxic is a limey heel) announces his presence. Riley chortles! "And here he is now!" As the guitars kick in, a wall of crimson pyro bursts from the stage! As the crowd's eyes readjust to the darkness they miss something that the people at home don't. Behind the wall of pyro... is nothing. Seconds pass. The crowd, once regaining it sight, waits in confused silence. Finally, after what seems like an eternity for live television, the curtain parts... and out comes the man who once might have been recognized as the Suicide King. The crowd's instinctive heat dies off for a moment as the behold the wreckage of a man begin its slow journey down the entrance ramp. Supporting himself one crutch, the Gambling Man hobbles down the entrance ramp as the crowd begins to recover and return to its previous disrespectful jeering. King's face looks as if it has been used as a jogging track by Olympic sprinters... one large bandage covers a significant chunk of the left side of his forehead, but more prominent is the wicked gash over his right eye, some 2 and 1/2 inches in length, that had to be closed with staples. Some of the skin on his cheek is still an angry pink from its encounter with a firebrand. His right eye also shows the fading signs of a wicked shiner, but that is nothing compared to the large bulk under the right leg of his dress pants that indicates only a industrial grade knee brace is allowing him to move with the aid of a crutch. His short sleeve polo shirt allows easy visibility to the large wrap around his elbow, and his fingers and wrists are covered with enough tape to outfit a Cub Scout troop as mummies on Halloween. It would be no exaggeration to say that there isn't a part of King's body that doesn't hurt, and as he finally arrives at ring side and throws his crutch under the bottom rope his pained motions manage to extract a small but vocal respect cheer from some diehard fans. Comet's voice lowers. "He may not look like a winner, but the fact remains that King defeated Stevens. But was the price worth it? He is moving like he aged 40 years in a week!" "I am sad to say you're right, Comet. King endured extensive injuries in the match," Riley notes sympathetically, "But the real damage is under his shirt. King's back suffered permanent muscle damage, and he will never, ever be able to move around the ring like he once did." King tries valiantly to get into the ring under his own power, but his knee and back conspire to keep him from stepping between the ropes. Swallowing his pride, he gestures to Funyon who quickly sits on the ropes and aids the King of Hearts through and into his ring... the two men share a quiet word for a moment before Funyon hands off his microphone and leaves without incident. The Suicide King takes several moments to gather his breath and collect his thoughts. As the camera zooms in, the expression on King's face is haunted, reminiscent of those unhappy few who have looked into the abyss for just a little too long. King raises the microphone to his lips, and manages a small smile. "Hello, everyone." A rather respectable waves of heat emanates from that small and inoffensive comment, which prompts King to smile just a little bit wider. It just as quickly fades though... "So... I take it that most of you saw Ashes 2 Ashes. You saw the end of whatever there once was between between Mark Stevens, my former mentor and greatest enemy, and myself. And you are angry, and sad. Angry, that I won. Sad, that you will never see Mark Stevens in the SWF again." King's hair is nearly blown back by the volley of boos. "And believe it or not, it really is never this time." King's face becomes solemn. "I was... very thorough. I'd had enough of this before. We'd done this dance. So the lawyers, at my insistence, performed as if the hounds of hell were at their heels. Stevens can never work for the SWF again in any capacity. He can never promote our merchandise. He can't sign autographs at our shows. He can't work for any of the companies our parent corporation holds interest in. He can never reopen the Bases Loaded Training Camp. He is gone, dead and buried. Yes." King takes a thoughtful pause. "I was very thorough, before the match." "Not that he would come back, even if he could. He went into that match for a reason... a reason I didn't understand. I don't understand why you all cheered him, even after he lost. I don't understand why he had to fight. I knew why I had to... I had to show everyone that I was right, that Stevens used, abused, and neglected me when I was his friend. That everything I had done to him and everyone else was justified because of the tremendous success I achieved once I left the Carnival." "I don't actually remember the last half of the match. I had to watch it on tape at the hospital the next day, but all that night and morning as they ran their tests I knew in my heart that it was true. That what everyone was telling me had happened had in fact happened. I had won, finally, even though to this moment the only image of it in my mind is from that tape..." King pauses, swallowing hard once more. "That damned tape." "That night I was in more pain than I have ever been before. But I have never been as happy as I was then. I was... at peace. I had achieved my life's goal. I popped in the tape to watch what would become my memory of the event. Like some of you, I went right to the ending, so I could see it for myself. And this is what I saw..." King turns to the SWFtron. Grand Slam kneels down next to the ring, throws up the ring apron and starts digging around for something. In the ring, King rolls to the corner opposite Grand Slam, trying to create as much distance between him and his foe as possible while making the familiar "O" face of masculine pain. Finally, the crowd nearest Grand Slam lets out an almighty cheer which spreads as the rest of the fans in attendance see what plunder Grand Slam has found buried under the ring. Standing slowly, he raises his right hand high aloft; in it he is holding a baseball bat... a very special baseball bat... Riley: No... this is beyond the pale! After everything that has happened... Comet: That's the Spark Hardcore Special bat! He's about to go old school on the Suicide King! Indeed, the weapon being raised is a Louisville Slugger baseball bat. But this one is wrapped in some sort of cloth, then wrapped again in razor wire! In his left hand, Grand Slam has something else... something small... Riley: You have got to be kidding... He raises his left hand to the bat and flicks his thumb... a spark... then a flame! the crowd is going funky-monkey-banana-boat-in-your-living-room-for-high-tea-"Would you like a crumpet with that" insane! As Grand Slam pulls himself up to the ring apron and carefully steps between the ropes, King is in the opposite corner, pulling himself up slowly, being careful to keep his back to the approaching Heavy Hitter. Comet: What's happening? Riley: King's hiding something! The Gambling Man has yet another ace up his sleeve! As Grand Slam starts to stalk across the ring, King also comes out of the corner. The crowd continues cheering, rattling the rafters of the arena. Grand Slam winds up and swings... AND SO DOES THE SUICIDE KING!! Comet: Oh no!! Riley: King has the Ace of Clubs!! He's got an equalizer!! Both blows land hard, Grand Slam's flaming brand blasting with dizzying force into King's blood-and-sweat-soaked face and snapping his head hard to one side! King's wild swing with the black Ace of Clubs goes higher, connecting painfully with the side of Grand Slam's head right beside his eye! Grand Slam falls to the side immediately, coming to rest on his back, obviously dazed and confused! King remains standing for a moment, weaving uneasily... Riley: Oh my God!! Comet: Oh no!! Not like this!! Then he loses his fight with unconsciousness! King teeters and falls back first right on top of Grand Slam, then rolling to the side, their broken bodies perpendicular to each other! Soapdish drops to the mat as King's arm remains fallen lightly across Grand Slam's chest! The crowd once again counts along!! One..... Two..... Three!!!!!! Riley: He did it!! King did it!! ::DING DING DING:: Funyon: The winner of this match by pinfall... THE SUICIDE KING!!!! King turns into the boos of the crowd, smiling a pained smile. "See? I had won. And by definition of the match, I had won clean." King chokes up for a moment, looking for all the world like someone just told him his dog had died. "So I went back to watch the rest of the match." "It was good. It may have been one of my best. Mark and I threw everything we had at each other, and long after our brains stopped working our bodies kept going. In spite of the pain, in spite of the injury, we wouldn't stop. We couldn't. It had to be done. Neither of us could go on, only being half a man, only being one side of the coin." "And then I made it to the end game. The sequence just before the end..." King's face just... shatters. "And I saw." "I saw this." Grand Slam raises the mutilated chair to the heavens like a trophy and the crowd just goes ballistic, sending their energy towards Grand Slam like a palpable wave and the veteran fan favorite, possibly the most popular man in the history of the SWF eats it up, pumping his fist in the air and stomping his feet. Meanwhile, the ref is checking on King and looks very worried. Finally, having gotten the adrenaline flowing again, Grand Slam walks over to King and grabs his hair, pulling the smaller man to his feet. Comet: Oh my God... The crowd gasps as they see the puddle of blood left on the mat. King's face is quickly covered in bright red, sticky blood. Comet: Good God... that chairshot has just opened the Suicide King up. He is bleeding profusely from another wound on his head! Riley: Good Lord, they're even competing to see who can bleed more... Comet: What was that? Riley: Nothing... nothing.... Grand Slam sees the crimson mask and is stunned for a second, but doesn’t hesitate long, pulling the wounded Gambling Man into a standing head-scissors, hooking the arms... jumps in the air... ::WHAM!!:: Comet: WALK-OFF!! WALK-OFF!! Riley: This has to be it Comet! King is a great wrestler but there is no way he can get out of this one!! Grand Slam seems to have all of the energy drain out of him as he rolls King over and falls across his chest... Soapdish drops to the mat! The crowd counts along!! One....... Two........ ThrNO!!!! The Suicide King manages to get his foot on the bottom rope just in time to break the count! The crowd is cheering everything now, just amazed that both man have pushed themselves this far. Grand Slam props himself up and stares at the zebra, simply holding up three fingers as if to ask, "Are you sure?" Soapdish nods his head and Grand Slam rocks back on his knees, hanging his head, wondering what in the hell he has to do to finally put King away once and for all. Comet: What is King running on? It isn't pride, it isn't principle! What is keeping this villain conscious, much less alive? And did Soapdish just make a costly mistake by counting a rope break in a no DQ match? I may have to dig out my SWF rulebook, but I am not sure that flies. Riley: The ref is is the only authority in that ring, Comet, and you can't question his call until this is all over! Still, I can’t believe it Comet! All those years of training are keeping King in this match despite what his body is telling him! Comet: I'm not sure that is for the best right now though... King is losing blood once again, but this time at an absolutely sickening rate! King just stands there, silent. One hand cradles the bridge of his nose, maybe the only facial feature unpunished from the match... "The ropes saved me. My ring instinct took over, and I put my foot on the ropes." "The ref has final say, in any match. Of course. We all know this." "But there's something I know too. I know, that even from way back in Stubby's day, that in no DQ matches there are no ropebreaks. What would be the point? You can't be DQed for it. And a Hell in a Cell is the most vicious and brutal no DQ match we have ever devised. So, ropebreaks don't break submissions." The Suicide King stands there, his face drained of color, his hands shaking. The crowd goes silent, sensing that something momentous is about to be said. "Ropebreaks don't break pinfalls." "In that one moment, it all came crashing down. Everything I had ever done. Everyone I had beaten, injured, forced to retire, bribed, abused, tricked, usurped. I was left alone, in a hospital bed, a broken man for the first time since I was admitted." "Soapdish made a mistake. Stevens had me dead to rights. I couldn't have kicked out, not after that many chairshots and a second Walk-Off. I was beaten. I kept watching, and I saw the end of the match where my arm was raised. I was announced the winner. And it all meant nothing now." "I thought back to the people I had sacrificed to achieve success. So many... too many to remember. My friends and enemies. Edwin, and Chris. Thugg, and Magnifico. Stubby. Neilsen. Flesher. Z. And Mark. Always Mark. I had to brutalize him and betray him in a thousand different ways a thousand different times. The man who brought me into the business, who taught me everything I thought I knew. For three years I have stomped down anyone who could challenge me and threaten my growing power, even to this day with people like Landon Maddix." King sighs. "And it was all for nothing. Mark stood there and was cheered for failing. FAILING. Even though he succeeded, in his moment of greatest heartbreak he stood there and he thanked all of you, as I was limp and broken on the mat. He went back to the locker room, and back there no one treated him like a loser. I won, in the middle of the ring, and later learned it was a lie. And it occurred to me then that there was nothing left for me to do, since I had achieved my life's work." "Well, I was half right. There is nothing left for me." King looks into the camera, a shell of his former self. "Mark. You were right. You were right about everything. You never held me down. You were just waiting for me to stand. And when I stood, I turned my back on everything you and I held dear. And now, three years later I understand. You are at home, with your wife and family, well-respected by your peers, loved by the fans. I stand here, in the ring, in the business you taught me to love. And I turn and look around, and I can't remember why. And I was so close..." "I thought I was doing what I had to do, to get ahead, to help the business, to raise our federation to the heights it was capable of. And to do so, I became everything that is wrong with wrestling. You were right, Mark. You were right about everything." "I'm... sorry." King powers through, without waiting for an audience response. "I know. Apologies are useless, not after what I've done. I can't change any of it. I know what the best thing left for me to do is... and I'll do it." "Once I make sure that all outstanding issues are settled, that those who I have taken advantage of have had their chance... then I'll leave. Forever. I had my chance at the business I loved, and I blew it. In the end, the house won." King stands there, a small smile playing at his lips as a tear rolls down his cheek. "The house always wins." "Time to leave the table, and see what life is like outside. But before I go, I have to divest myself of my interest and make sure the place can make it without me. I... think it can. And I think it will be better than ever." King looks outward into the audience once more, as they sit there in awkward silence. He opens his mouth, closes it... opens it once more, and shakes his head. Dropping the mike, King lays down and slowly and painfully rolls out of the ring. Making his way up the ramp with his crutch, King doesn't appear to hear the small and hesitant clapping that some fans are attempting. King turns at the stage and inclines his head once... as we go to commercial.

It's Dublin, Ireland! Home of leprechauns, shamrock, Guiness, toothless simpletons and people with eyebrows on their cheeks. And tonight, home of SWF Storm. The Irishmen and women in attendance are going crazy as the camera pans the crowd, an alarming percentage of the crowd wearing green paddy hats. Oh yes. Stereotypes rock. "We've taken out last commecrial break here on SWF Storm," Comet announces. "Meaning that we are ready to bring you, in it's entirety, the nine man battle royal that will determine seeding in the Cold Front Classic tournament! The nine men in the tournament know this battle royal could make of break their chances at winning the tournament...and, as a result, a shot at the World Championship. Robert, your thoughts quickly." "Organised chaos." declares Bobby Riley. "And chaos that could pave the way for some hotshot nobody to get a shot at Toxxic. Not that there's likely anyone who could beat our champion..." "Well, just look at the lineup Robert. We have the new ICTV Champion, both Tag Champions...one of whom is also the new Hardcore Gamers Champ, we have the Cruiserweight Champion, the USJL Champion, the former ICTV Champion, a former USJL Champion, perhaps the most prolific champion in SWF history by way of becoming an SWF Grand Slammer..." "...and Danny Dagda." "Well, don't sell Dagda short Robert. He is a very..." "Ten bucks says he's the first gone." "Uhm...Robert, it's not very professional to gamble while commentating on a live show." "...twenty bucks." "I don't think I..." "Forty bucks." "...make it fifty and I'll consider." "PREPARE...FOR...LANDON!" ...WAAAAAHHHHH... *DUM DUM* "YEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!" Through the curtains bursts Landon Maddix and it seems we're ready to get the battle royal going! Bounding across the stage, Maddix starts to fire up the fans...while Megan Skye follows out behind her man, both looking rather gold laden tonight. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is the nine man battle royal to determine seeding in the inaugural Cold Front Classic. Introducing the participants. First, accompanied to the ring by the new SWF Women's Champion Megan Skye. From Huron, South Dakota...the NEW, three-time SWF Intercontinental Television Champion...LANDON "LA CUCARACHA" MADDIX!" The crowd cheer as Maddix enters the ring...no sooner has he done so though, "Megalomaniac" is cut and replaced by Mastodon's "Crusher Destroyer". Through the curtains storms Manson, strobes flashing around the Dublin Arena. "From Denver, Colorado...this is MAAAAANSON!!!" Into the ring rolls Manson, glaring across at Maddix as he walks over to a neutral corner. Maddix simply stares right back, trying not to look too intimidated by the admitedly intimidating Manson. Meanwhile, "Tearing Everybody Down" by Anti-Flag hits as red pyro fills the stage. Slowly and smugly, Danny Dagda steps through the curtains to the jeers of the Dubliners in attendance. "Hailing from Newark, New Jersey...DAAAAANNYYYYY DAAAAAGDAAAAA!!!" The grinning Dagda saunters down the aisle, talking smack to some of the fans as he goes. As he does so, off goes his music...to be replaced by "Aerials" by System Of A Down slowly creeping over the P.A system, heralding the arrivals of both Tag Team Champions. "Introducing the SWF World Tag Team Champions! From Oil City, Pennslyvania...DAVID CROSS. And, the NEW SWF Hardcore Gamers Champion...this is CHRRRRRISTIAN FUUUUURRRYYY!!!" Both Tag Champs enter the ring making a field of five ready to go. Wisely Cross and Fury take up the remaining neutral corner and look as united as any two people could be going into a battle royal, discussing the match. Dagda is busy taunting Maddix meanwhile, but Maddix seems indifferent to it all. *BOOOOOOOOM!* Suddenly, pyro rocks the Dublin Arena, "Superstar" hits and heralds the arrival of the former ICTV Champion Max King, who stops on the stage and holds open the curtains for the former Women's Champion Kelly Connelly, both with sour looks on their faces. "Accompanied to the ring by Kelly Connelly. From Philidelphia, Pennslyvania...he is "THE ICON"... MAAAAAXXX KIIIIING!" King and Kelly stride to the ring, while the camera gets a good shot of the four ugly scars down the side of Megan Skye's face, caused of cause by Connelly at Ashes To Ashes. Reaching the ring, Kelly starts to throw abuse at Megan while King slides into the ring, eyes locked on Landon Maddix's...and vice versa. What King doesn't see are the eyes of Manson piercing into the back of his head. In the meantime, the lights dim and up starts Fabolous' "Breathe". Green spotlights pan the arena and more pyro erupts from the stage, as the USJL Champion bounds through the curtains. "From 'Hollywood Boulevard'...he is the SWF United States Junior League Champion..."THE URBAN LEGEND" TODD COOORRRTEEZZZZZ!!!" Cortez strides down the aisle, entering the ring and back cautiously into the corner occupied by Landon Maddix...who gives Cortez some space. Now seven men fill the ring. Leaving only two to come. "WEL-WEL-W-W-WELCOME TO THE REVOLUTION!" *KEEE - RAAAAK!* *BOOOOOOOOOM!* "Battle Ready" by Otep blares through the P.A to a torrent of boos from the crowd as out emerge Jet, the Cruiserweight Champ Spike Jenkins...and after a brief pause, the figure of Sacred! The Rev-0 trio begin to make their way down, Spike and Jet chatting away while Sacred is focused entirely on the ring. "And the final two competitors...both accompanied by JET, and both representing Revolution Zero! First...the reigning SWF Cruiserweight Champion...from Hollywood, California, he is "HOLLYWOOD"...SPIIIIIKE JEEENKIIINSSS!!! And, the entrant into the battle royal...the one, and the only...this...is SAAAAACRRREEEEDDD!!!" Boos again fill the air as Spike and Sacred enter the ring, the unlikely allies sticking together and moving towards a corner...Dagda quickly moving out of their way as they do. So now, we have Sacred and Spike in one corner. Maddix and Cortez in the opposite corner. King and Dagda in another corner, with King glaring over at Maddix. Manson looks on from one side of the ring towards King. And meanwhile, the Tag Champions occupy the fourth corner. Nine men in all, all ready to do battle. And three women on the outside, possibly contemplating doing the same. *DING DING DING* "BUUUUUUUUUUNDLLLEEEEE!!!" screams Riley at the top of his voice... ...but the predicted scramble doesn't go as planned, with only Maddix and King charging from their positions and tackling each other to the ground. That's still enough to get the crowd going though, the fight between ICTV Champ and former champ commencing on the mat while the other combatants are slightly more cautious. Spike and Sacred are moving in a pack, both looking daggers at the now un-assisted Todd Cortez, the events of Ashes To Ashes still fresh wounds to Sacred. Meanwhile, Manson has backstepped his way around the Dagda, seemingly trying to form a pact...as the Tag Team Champions watch on and decide to advance. The Maddix/King brawl has now left the ring, both men having rolled under the ropes while still trading punches. Quickly the two of the three refs on the floor, Mr. Soapdish and Mr. Hardcastle, try to pull the two apart...whilst back in the ring, Cortez has been cornered by the Rev-0 duo. "Well, I must say...a surprisingly tactical beginning to this battle royal. And already the competitors are 'pairing' off." "Nobody wants to get thrown out Comet." says Riley, stating the obvious. "Rushing into anything in this battle royal could be especially costly and everyone in that ring knows it." "COR - TEZ! COR - TEZ! COR - TEZ!" As Max and Maddix continue to scrap on the floor, the Dublin crowd see Cortez's upcoming predicament and start to get behind him. Spike is beginning to talk trash as he inches closer to Cortez, who has dropped into a deeper stance than everyone else...eyes dashing from Spike to those of Sacred that are pierced on him. And then suddenly, Cortez springs into action. Getting the first shots in, Cortez nails both of the Rev-0 members with punches, getting the better of them for a few seconds, before the numbers catch up on him and he gets backed into the corner. Spike and Sacred pound away on him, as behind them, the other four men in the battle have also launched into action. Pairing off, Cross goes for Dagda...while Fury unleashes just that on Manson! "And now, all nine men are getting into it! Just how you like it Bobbo!" "Was that a slur then?" "No, I think I spoke quite clearly actually." On the outside, the brawl between King and Maddix is still raging on and making it's way around ringside...uncontrollable by any of the three over-stretched refs. Sacred and Spike meanwhile have Cortez pressed against the bottom turnbuckles, stomping away in unison as Jet yells on encouragement from the outside. Leaving the 'real' action with the other four. Cross and Fury, continuing to brawl away with Dagda and Manson, suddenly both charge forwards and wipe out their opposition with stereo clotheslines. Up first is Dagda, getting caught by the Tag Champs and double clotheslined back down. Manson is up moments later, but he gets grabbed by Cross and nailed with a big forearm...before Fury nails one of his own. The Tag Champs then set up Manson, hooking him for a double suplex. An attempt broken up by Dagda, who nails both Fury and Cross from behind. Quickly Dagda then drags Cross into a corner, choking him up against the buckles. While Manson takes Fury, whipping him into the ropes and catching him coming back with a high knee to the jaw. Fury remains down, as Manson turns his attentions back to Cross and goes over to help Dagda put on the punishment. "COR - TEZ! COR - TEZ! COR - TEZ!" Still, the crowd's focus is on Cortez as the USJL Champion is now being pulled up by Spike and Sacred before being dragged towards the centre of the ring. Sacred quickly hooks on a single chickenwing and pulls Cortez's head back, holding him as Spike winds up the arm. But any plans for a Lariat are cut off, as Landon Maddix suddenly reaches into the ring and trips Spike! "YEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" "Now, that was uncalled for!" chastises Riley. Catching the eye of Sacred, Maddix then smiles up at the newest member of Revolution Zero...only to get jumped from behind by Max King, before getting bundled into the ring. And Sacred wastes little time in storming over and laying in the boots on Maddix... ...as meanwhile, Dagda and Manson have Cross up as they try to muscle him out over the top. Just as they get the second foot off of the floor though, Christian Fury is over to rake Dagda in the eyes. He then grabs Manson and wrenches him away, helping Cross back onto his feet before the two men charge beside the other, both wiping out Manson with a clothesline! Across the ring, the trio of Sacred, Spike and King are ganging up on Maddix and laying in the stomps. Cortez is up behind them however, bundling into Spike and sending him over the top... "RAAAAAAAHHHHH!" ...but Spike lands on the apron! And quickly, Cortez is nailed from behind by King...allowing Spike time to roll back in. "That was VERY nearly the first elimination...Citizen Jenkins, JUST surviving." gasps Comet. "And I'm not sure if Toxxic will be happy with that or not." "What makes you say that?" "Well, if Toxxic is still champion by the end of this tournament and Spike win the tournament...that'll mean an all Revolution Zero title match. Likewise, if Sacred wins..." "Comet...Revolution Zero is strong enough not to let championships come between them." "Well, we may find out in a few weeks." Now, it's three on two in one corner...Rev-0 and King stomping, punching, kicking and clawing at Maddix and Cortez. In the meantime, Cross and Fury now have Danny Dagda in their sights. Grabbing his partner by the arm, Cross irish whips Fury with force towards Dagda, watching on as Fury grabs Dagda's head and looks to drive him back with a falling reverse bulldog. Only to get caught in Canadian Backbreaker position! Instantly Dagda squeezes down on Fury's ribcage, while Cross is caught by Manson before he can help his tag partner out. So it's lucky that Sacred has turned away from the battle in the corner, looking at Dagda who doesn't see the dangerous former World Champion striding up behind him. "Comet...get your wallet out." Dagda is busy taunting the Irish crowd now, still blissfully unaware that Sacred is standing behind him. Springing into the air, Sacred connects with a dropkick, hitting Dagda right between the shoulder blades. Dagda stumbles forwards towards the ropes, releasing Fury as he does so, while Sacred crouches down and looks ready to charge. But it's every man for himself in this one, proven by Fury nailing the unsuspecting Sacred with a spinning heel kick! "YEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!" "Ooh...now, THAT wasn't smart." groans Riley. Sacred is send tumbling across the ring, while Fury encourages Dagda to get back up...beckoning him on with frantic hand motions. Slowly Dagda does stumble around, catching a boot to the gut before getting caught in the 3/4 facelock. Fury quickly drops to his knees, dropping Dagda's jaw over his shoulder before pulling himself up, ready to complete the Thunder and Lightning. But as he gets back up, Sacred charges and bundles into both men, breaking it up. David Cross is in trouble on the opposite side of the ring, Manson having succeeded in draping him across the top rope but having a little bother sending him the rest of the way over. As meanwhile, Sacred is glaring a hole through the back of Christian Fury's head. The dazed Fury is taking a while to get up, using the ropes for assistance, as Sacred waits...and waits...and waits some more, before finally the Hardcore Gamers Champion is up. At which point, Sacred charges and clotheslines Fury up, over... ...and to the floor! "BOOOOOOOOOOOO!" "The first elimination and, therefore, the number 9 seed...CHRISTIAN FURY." "So, that means Christian Fury is one of the two men in this match who will have to win four matches to get a World Title shot, right?" asks Riley. "Indeed Bobbo. It also means you owe me fifty bucks." "...I call quitseys." "You can't call 'quitseys' Robert, we shook hands." "Yeah, but you didn't stamp it." "...what?" "NUH-UH!" With the first man down, the field is now at eight. Understandably Fury looks a little...well, furious...as he realises he's been eliminated and is motioned to the back by referee Soapdish. Back in the ring meanwhile, the eight men left are paired off. Manson still has David Cross precariously balanced in one corner. Max King is stomping away on Maddix. Spike continues to choke Todd Cortez, while Sacred's attentions are now focused on Danny Dagda. First to break from the pairings is Spike Jenkins, taunting the crowd as he does so...before turning and seeing the precarious position Cross is in. Obviously, Spike has no love for the man who now holds one of 'his' Tag Team Title belts and charge over, helping Manson to almost tip Cross over the top. Cross is now calling for help, possibly unaware Fury has been ousted. And as King turns his attentions to Cortez, that help seems to be coming from Landon Maddix. Or not, as Maddix assesses the situation...before helping Spike and Manson! "Look at this! Citizen Maddix, assisting Spike and Manson!" "Well, these battle royals make for strange bedfellows sometimes Comet." "You would certainly know all about strange bedfellows partner!" "Oh, Ba-Zing~!" Cross now has three men trying to tip him over the top and all hope looks to be lost for the other half of the Tag Champs...moments away from both elimination and a match with his tag partner! But from somewhere Cross finds the energy to pull one of his hands off of the ropes, using it to slam a fist down across Manson's forehead...and then Spike's. At that point, Maddix wisely vacates the scene, jogging over to the kneeling Max King and raking his eyes, breaking up his chokehold on Cortez. Meanwhile, Spike has given up too and Cross quickly plants his feet safe on the canvas, clubbing Manson across the back of the head quickly. "Citizen Cross survives, for now...and now, it's Sacred who's in danger!" Yes...across the ring, Danny Dagda has Sacred up and hanging over the top rope, much to the horror of Jet. Luckily though, Spike has seen it and runs over to club Dagda with a forearm deep into the kidneys. Dagda quickly drops Sacred as Spike turns him around, whipping Dagda off the ropes. Dagda shoots back, spearing the unready Spike out of his boots! Meanwhile, Cross has stepped away from Manson and now grabs Landon Maddix, spinning him around...AND PRESSING THE ICTV CHAMPION OVER HIS HEAD! "NOOOOOOOOOOO!" "YES!" Riley wails. "DUMP HIM! DUMP HIM NOW!" Cross certainly has the chance as he keeps Maddix pressed high above his head. But he waits too long and over runs Dagda, nailing Cross with a big boot that knocks down both he and Maddix...with Maddix landing on top of Cross! Meanwhile, Dagda is on fire and quickly goes after Sacred, grabbing the SWF legend. Sacred scoots behind however, locking Dagda's arms into a double chickenwing! But here comes Manson, pulling a surpised Sacred off of Dagda and into a german suplex. Manson pulls himself up, but gets goozled by Dagda, ready for some chokeslam action. However, he takes forever over hitting it and Manson manages to boot Dagda between the legs! "OOOOOHHHHHH!" Groaning, Dagda clutches his 'area', while suddenly Landon Maddix is over, catching Dagda in the shoulder with a dropsault that sends Dagda toppling to the side. Being 6'5" does Dagda no favours, as he ends up teetering over the top...with a little shove from Maddix sending him the rest of the way over the top! "YEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!" Dagda's feet hit the floor, much to his disgruntlement...while Manson wipes out Maddix with an STO takedown! "Eliminated and now, the number 8 seed...DANNY DAGDA." "So, it will be Danny Dagda and Christian Fury in the first match of the first Cold Front Classic!" announces Comet. Manson now pounces on Sacred and stomps away on him as he attempts to get back up, with King and Spike busy stomping away on Cortez across the ring. Meanwhile, David Cross is now getting back up and looking quite dis-orientated as he gets to his feet. Seeing him, King suddenly breaks away from Cortez and creeps up behind the Tag Champion. Cross doesn't see it coming as he reaches for the ropes, while King hooks his arms around one of Cross' legs and teeters him up and over the top, Cross unable to react in time... "WOAH!" ...as he tumbles to the floor! "BOOOOOOOOOOOO!" "Eliminated...the number 7 seed...DAVID CROSS." "And just like that, we are down to six!" Clearly pleased with her man's efforts, Kelly Connelly smiles broadly and applauds away for King...right by David Cross who is pointed in the direction of the exit by referee Mark Hebner. But while King is distracted with Kelly, Landon Maddix is up and behind King! Kelly is shocked, warning her man to turn around which he does, into a clothesline from Maddix, sending King over the top... ...but King hangs on... ...and Spike catches Maddix with a clothesline! "BOOOOOOOOOOOO!" King takes the opportunity to roll back into the ring as Kelly breathes a sigh of relief, while Spike is now laying in the boots to Maddix. Getting up, King joins in and now Maddix is being double teamed. Behind them, Todd Cortez is up...not being attacked for about the first time in the match, with the crowd cheering him on. Staggering over to where Maddix is currently being stomped into the canvas, Cortez has his fists balled up and ready to take on anyone. Except Sacred, who charges from behind and drives his knee into the kidneys of the USJL Champion! Cortez crumbles to canvas with a groan, as Sacred yells at Spike to help him out. Jenkins looks a little taken a-back at being ordered about...at least, by someone other than Toxxic...but all the same, he breaks away from Maddix and helps to pull up Cortez. Both men hold up the limp body of the USJL Champion as King continues the offense on Maddix. But before Spike and Sacred can do any more, Manson has walked over and pulled Spike away from the action and locked him in a waistlock. Quickly and smartly, Spike drops to a seated position to break the hold... *SMACK!* "OOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" ...only for Manson to nearly snap his back with a vile spinal-tap kick! "Mother of mercy!" squeaks Comet, looking through his fingers. Spike howls in pain and starts to writh on the canvas, as Sacred suddenly charges forward and tries to take Manson's head off with a clothesline. Manson ducks though, stepping to the side as Sacred turns around...and Cortez sprints forward, catching Sacred across the jaw with a running palm strike! Down goes Sacred, but Cortez then turns around and takes a boot to the gut from Manson. On goes a front facelock, before Manson lifts Todd up into suplex position and promptly sits out, bringing Cortez hard chest and face first down into the mat! "And that's the War Ensemble!" Riley shouts. "And, would you look at this Robert!" Comet's excitement comes, as Manson returns to his feet and turns to find his next victim...to be faced by old adversary Max King! You can feel the tension in the air as this unsettled rivalry is ready to re-erupt, with King staring into the eyes of the man who defeated him in Caged Fury at Genesis V. Manson glares right back, not backing down a step. Suddenly, from behind Maddix is up...and despite being dazed, charges at King. He manages to duck though and Maddix sprawls forward into a quick Manson elbow strike, before staggering backwards into an inverted front facelock. Quickly King locks up a leg and lifts Maddix, before dropping him down on his head with the King Buster! Maddix is down. And now, it's back to a Manson/King staredown. "This battle royal has suddenly become Manson and King's match...Manson and King's moment. Their chance to re-ignite a feud that span..." *SMACK!* Suddenly, down goes Manson...courtesy of a Sacred superkick to the back of the head! "...oh, nevermind." Looking a little surprised and a little angry at the same time, King yells at Sacred...asking him what he's thinking of. And Sacred shows him, by smacking King in the face with a forearm. King fires one back straight away. But Sacred shrugs it off and clubs King again. Only for King to nail another forearm himself, before grabbing Sacred and hitting a sternum buster. Away rolls Sacred, as Spike is back up... *SMACK!* "LAST DANCE!" King crumples to the mat leaving only Spike standing, free to go after whoever he wants. And his first choice is the man he is set in line to face for the Intercontinental Television Championship, Landon Maddix. Megan watches on nervously as Spike takes a couple of handfuls of Maddix's hair and pulls him off the canvas, to his knees where he delivers a humiliating slap across the face. With a smile, Spike then holds his arms aloft...before firing off a kick to the chest. And a second, before backing up, ready to offload the kick to the head. But Todd Cortez grabs Spike's leg as it reels back! Spike quickly hops around to face Cortez, instantly getting dragged in towards Cortez and STOed to the canvas. But as soon as Cortez gets back up, over strides Sacred. He grabs Cortez, locking him up into a waistlock. Suddenly though, here comes Manson, spinning Sacred around and hot-shotting him across the top rope! Now Manson and Cortez are standing, Cortez going for a boot to the gut. Manson catches the boot before whipping him around. In mid-spin though, Cortez gains his bearings and hooks Manson with a discus clothesline on the way back around! Staggering back up, Cortez shakes away some of the cobwebs as suddenly he turns around into a lightning quick exploder suplex, by Landon Maddix! "Woah!" "It's every citizen for themself tonight Robert!" Maddix turns, looking down on Cortez with a slight look of sorrow on his face for what he's done...which lasts for all of a second, before he pulls the USJL Champion back up. A forearm rocks Cortez and sends him quivering back towards the ropes. Cortez grabs Maddix around the head quickly though and tries to muscle him out over the top, Maddix doing all he can to reverse it and dump out Cortez. As they grapple on the ropes meanwhile, the other four men in the match are all beginning to get to their feet! Spike, Sacred, King and Manson all stare across the ring and see Cortez and Maddix going at it...putting aside their differences as they begin to move as a pack, towards the two sitting ducks. Until suddenly, King grabs Manson around the head and wheels him around, tossing him over the top before he can even register what's going on and sending him out to the floor!!! "YEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!" "Eliminated...the number 6 seed...MANSON." Furiously Manson tries to get back into the ring and exact some revenge on King, only to get held back by Hardcastle and Hebner. Sacred and Spike meanwhile don't look impressed with King...as by now, Cortez and Maddix have stopped scrapping and are now looking across the ring. It's three on two now...still hefty odds, but not as bad four on two obviously. "So, we have just five men left in this battle royal." Comet points out. "Manson out-smarted and now, just plain out." "Which leaves poor little Todd and poor little Landon up against three very talented and three very vindictive men! Hey, Todd...where's Mike Van 'Ghost' when you need him?" "Would you give that a rest?" Looking across at each other, Maddix and Cortez exchange a wary look as the challenge ahead begins to dawn on them. King has meanwhile been forgiven and brought temporarily into the Rev-0 fold, the threesome discussing strategy. But suddenly, Maddix and Cortez charge at the three men while they're still unprepared, throwing wild punches and forearms at whichever one of the three they can get to. The numbers are still against them though and eventually Spike manages to duck beneath the punches, catching Cortez with a lowblow that allows Sacred to clothesline the USJL Champion down. Meanwhile, King gets the better of Maddix in their fist-fight and quickly spins him around into the corner. Spike and Sacred now have Cortez grounded and stomp away... *SLAP!* "WHOOOOO!" ...as King chops Maddix... *SLAP!* "WHOOOOO!" ...but takes one right back! But Sacred sees King stopped in his tracks and charges at Maddix with a forearm. Yelling at King, Sacred then pulls Maddix out of the corner and steps behind, pushing Maddix forward towards the former ICTV Champion. But the current champion manages to duck a clothesline and push King, into Sacred! Their heads clock and Sacred stumbles backwards, his upper body tipping over the top rope! Maddix rushes over and tries to dump Sacred out, Sacred hanging onto the top rope and turnbuckle for dear life...yelling for Spike's attention. "Citizen Maddix has Sacred up...and he's got him moments away from elimination!" "No way. Sacred's got enough of a grip on the ropes to hang on...and he's got Spike to help him out." As if on cue, Spike finally hears Sacred's cry for help and turns away from Cortez, smacking Maddix in the back of the head with a forearm. Quickly Sacred tumbles over the top, safely hanging onto the ropes and landing on the apron before rolling back in. Spike meanwhile has Maddix hooked around the leg and is now trying to lift him over the top. Cortez is back up behind though and he pulls Spike off of Maddix and back into position for a backdrop suplex. Raising a knee, Spike catches Cortez in the jaw to block that though...and as Cortez staggers away, Spike rushes behind Cortez and takes him down with the Phantom Neckbreaker. In the meantime, Sacred has picked up where Spike left off, hoisting Maddix up across the top rope in an attempt to eliminate the ICTV Champion. King sees the chance to help and begins to stagger over...but from the outside, Kelly starts to yell something at King. "There we go, some advice from Kelly." mutters Riley. "Even in chaos like this, 'The Queen' keeps her head and..." Suddenly, with the advice given, King charges forward. But rather than help Sacred, he lifts out The Sacred One's leg from underneath him and flips him over... "YEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHH!" ...both Sacred and Maddix teeter, falling over the top... ...but both hang onto the ropes to save themselves!!! Sacred and Maddix then set about pulling themselves into the ring, while King is watching Spike and Cortez's battle...unaware that now a rather pissed off Sacred is striding up behind King, eyes locked in on him like a radar. Slowly, King turns around and sees Sacred, instantly trying to plead with Sacred for forgiveness. And he's saved, as Maddix suddenly charges and flips over Sacred, taking him down with The Throwback as King just gets out of the way in time. King quickly wipes out Maddix as he gets up with a clothesline. Meanwhile, Spike and Cortez are up, trading right hands back and forth! Cortez is getting the better of the exchange and backing Spike up towards the ropes, before leaving his feet and connecting with a single leg dropkick. Spike careers back into the ropes, his height preventing him from toppling over. But suddenly, Cortez finds a burts of energy and charges, clotheslining Spike... ...TO THE FLOOR! "YEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!" "Eliminated...the number 5 seed...SPI..." "WOAH!" Comet suddenly booms, as Cortez gets blind-sighted by King and set crashing to the floor too! "There goes Citizen Cortez too!" "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" "...SPIKE JENKINS. And also eliminated, therefore the number 4 seed...TODD CORTEZ." "Two eliminations in a matter of seconds!" Comet says in surprise. "Well, Cortez got caught playing to the fans. Serves him right." As Cortez lands beside him, the disappointed Spike manages to force a grin down towards the USJL Champ...a grin which earns him a hefty slap, which kicks off another brawl on the outside! Spike and Cortez exchange punches, making their way up the ramp as they go. Which leaves Max King, Landon Maddix and Sacred in the ring. King is still preening a possing, happy with getting rid of Cortez...as behind him, Maddix is dragging himself up to his feet. But again, yells from Kelly alert Max to the danger and he turns quickly around, charging and shoulder blocking Maddix HARD off his feet and to the canvas. Megan and Jet both glare over at Kelly, each of the SWF Divas with some representation left in the match...still leaving the chance of some catfighting very prominant. As King now stands tall in the centre of the ring, Sacred is now getting to his feet. King grabs the former World Champion as he reaches a more advanced position, sweeping him over with a textbook vertical suplex. Behind King, the enclosed figure of Landon Maddix walks gingerly up to King, who quickly whips around...and with the deftest of swipes... *SLAP!* "WHOOOOO!" ...lashes Maddix with a knifedge chop. Cursing, Maddix suddenly clasps forward with a shaky right hand, hooking onto King's face like a bowling ball...fingers in every hole he can get. One being King's mouth, one his nostril...and Maddix's thumb ends up jammed in King's eyes socket. But luckily for King, Sacred suddenly dives forward and spears Maddix off of King and to the canvas. As thanks, The Sacred One gets a boot to the back of the head from King. King pulls Sacred up quickly and irish whips him across the ring towards the turnbuckles. Seeing the corner getting ever closer by the second, Sacred quickly thrusts his hands up, catching the top rope to halt his momentum and pushes away from the buckles. As he turns around, King charges in and looks to avalanche Sacred up into corner... ...but he ducks out of the way, causing King to crash face-first into the top turnbuckle! And as he wobbles backwards, Sacred is quick to hook his arms around King's thigh as he tries to lift King over the top. "Sacred has King caught here!" Comet shouts, feeling the RUSH~! "Yeah, but Sacred isn't strong enough to eliminate King on his own!" It seems Bobby Riley is right on the money as King hooks his arms around the middle rope and goes dead-weight, making himself as heavy as humanly possible. Still Kelly doesn't look very confident though, looking on nervously as her man is now being inched further and further over the top by knee raised into the ribs by Sacred. Maddix has now reached his feet and waddles gingerly over to the scene of the action and pulls Sacred off of King, spiking the legendary figure head-first into the canvas with a quick and dirty DDT! Sacred remains down clutching his cranium, as now Maddix is trying to scoop King over the top himself. "What in the hell sort of a move was that?" sneers Riley. "If Sacred couldn't eliminate King on his own, what makes Maddix think he can?" "Well, Ashes To Ashes..." "That wasn't a battle royal, dingbat." Putting his back into the cause, Maddix starts to try and gain traction and push forwards as he is now in underneath King...who is looking slightly precarious on his perch. King can now see the floor hovering beneath him and panic begins to set in, as it seems he's going s l o w l y over. So he fires back an elbow. Luckily for him, King catches Maddix square in the forehead with the elbow and causes Maddix to stumble back, howling more than you'd expect from a simple elbow strike. Quickly King lands on the safety of the canvas as Sacred suddenly finds a burst of energy and sprints across the ring towards King. But King catches him coming in a front waistlock and, before Sacred can summon a counter, King snaps his hips and hurls Sacred carelessly over his head... *SMAAACK!* ...AND STRAIGHT TO THE CONCRETE FLOOR WITH AN OVERHEAD BELLY-TO-BELLY!!! "JESUS H!" wails Comet, cringing as Sacred's body splatters off the thinly padded mats and he wails in pain on impact, while Jet over-dramatically flails her arms in the air in both shock and frustration. "YEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!" "Eliminated...he is the number 3 seed...SACRED." "HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!" The Dubliners in attendance make their feelings perfectly clear as the referees around ringside look rightfully concerned for Sacred's well-being. But despite being shaken-up, Sacred doesn't seem to be seriously hurt. All the same, Hardcastle and Hebner help Jet to attend to The Sacred One. Back in the ring meanwhile, the battle royal has come down to the final two. Who just happen to be the Ashes To Ashes opponents, Max King and Landon Maddix...the latter of the two busted wide open from the forehead, the stitches in his head rendered useless now as they've been torn apart. Seeing the blood beginning to trickle down his opponent's head for the second time in the space of a week, King smiles from ear to ear... "MAD - DIX! MAD - DIX! MAD - DIX!" ...until Dublin, Ireland begins to get vocally behind the ICTV Champion. As Sacred is now up on the outside and being helped to limp and stagger his way up the ramp, supported by Jet and referee Hardcastle, King moves in on Maddix. Despite the blood loss already making his movements a little shaky, Maddix manages to duck under the lunging arms of 'The Superior Talent' and hook on a weak waistlock. King quickly prises his hands in between Maddix's arms and breaks the waistlock, before nailing another back elbow. The claret is beginning to flow now, as King grabs a handful of tights and another of hair, charging across the ring and hurling Maddix over the top... ...but Maddix hooks the top rope on the way over, saving his skin and chances at top seeding. "As powerful as Max King is, Citizen Maddix is agile...which could help him here." "Yeah, until Max presses his puny ass clear over the ropes." Seeing Maddix safely on the apron, King puts any plans for celebration on hold and charges across the ring as he looks to club 'La Cucaracha' into elimination. Maddix catches Max coming though, leaning over the ropes and forearming King in the jaw. Away staggers King, as Maddix puts a hand to his head. Blood now staines Maddix's palm and he looks slightly shocked, but soon shakes that off and springboards up to the top rope...and then, off and onto King's shoulders for a Hurri-Lanrana. But King has learnt from A2A, blocking the move and powerbombing Maddix straight south!! Megan cringes as her man's spine convulses and spasms all in one, bringing another grin to King's face. A grin that doesn't last long, as King mounts Maddix and cups his head under an arm... "YOU STOLE MY TITLE!" *DOOOSH!* "IT'S MY TITLE!" *DOOOSH!* "YOU'RE NOTHING!" *DOOOSH!* "MY TITLE!" *DOOOSH!* *DOOOSH!* *DOOOSH!* *DOOOSH!* *DOOOSH!* As King puts added emphasis (and sound effect) into the punches, Megan can only watch on through the gaps between her fingers. Blood now covers King's knuckles now as he finally stands up. King turns his head around the ring, looking for the nearest camera to display his 'war paint', while Maddix is pulling himself up desperately, hand over hand on the ropes. Turning back around, King walks over and irish whips Maddix across the ring. He bounces back, suddenly finding the energy to nail a flying forearm. Away staggers King, tumbling backwards and into the ropes... ...and he teeters over the top... ...but a helpful push from Kelly Connelly helps him back in!!! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" "Oh, come on referees!" snaps Comet. "Do your jobs." "Hey, lay off them. If I were on their pay, I'd do a half-assed job too." "As opposed to..." Scowling at the abuse she's recieving from referee Soapdish, Kelly starts to mock the 'lowly' referee with taunts and jibes. While behind her, here comes the SWF Women's Champion. A tap on the shoulder. And another. What else can Kelly do BUT turn around... *WHAM!* ...and nails Kelly upside the head with the Women's Title! "YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!" "Paybacks are a witch!" Comet exclaims. "Megan Skye is a witch!" Riley snaps back. Looking on in horror, King points an accussing finger down at Megan who is busy pointing out her scratch scars on her cheek to the unconscious 'Queen'. But as he does, Maddix has found some more energy in the ol' reserves and charges up behind King, who is totally unaware of what's happening as he finds himself going up, over the top... "NOOOOOOO!" ...AND TO THE FLOOR! *DING DING DING!* "YEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!" "The number 2 seed, as the final man eliminated...MAX KING. Therefore the winner of the Cold Front Classic Seeding Battle Royal and the number ONE seed...LANDON "LA CUCARACHA" MAAAADDIIIIXXX!!!" Collapsing backwards, Maddix clenches his fists to his blood covered forehead in his delight...as Megan rolls into the ring, escaping the grasp of the furious Max King as she does so and wrapping an arm around Maddix. Meanwhile, Max is up and trying to get back into the ring, but being held back by the three referees. "What a week for Landon Maddix!" yells Comet over the cheering Dubliners. "First his manager wins the Women's Title, then he becomes the three-time Intercontinental Television Champion...and now, Landon Maddix is the number one seed in the Cold Front Classic!" "Bah." "And what a bad week for King and Kelly. They lose both their titles and now, Max is the number two seed. So close yet so far for him." "Oh yeah, rub it in why dontcha!" Megan gives Maddix a helping hand up to his feet as the ICTV Championship belt has found it's way into the ring, quickly getting scooped up by Megan and placed over Maddix's shoulder. Despite the claret still trickling down his face, Maddix manages a smile as he looks at King who is being restrained by the referees, Kelly Connelly unceremoniously hanging unconscious over his shoulder as King wails obscenities at Maddix. Maddix mumbles something about preferring the 'belt' over his shoulder than a 'bint', before raising a weary arm in the air to salute his victory. "So, Maddix is the number one seed...but that doesn't guarantee him the shot at the belt." Riley says defensively. "He's still got a long way to do." "Indeed. The Cold Front Classic itself starts next week, but for now...Landon Maddix is top of the pile!" FADE OUT Copyright SWF 2004 "Straight Outta Smark Avenue."

“Right, is everyone ready?” Toxxic, the SWF World Heavyweight Champion, stands and watches the rest of Revolution Zero. Jet, his girlfriend, is lounging against the wall. Marcus Washington sits upright, dark eyes glinting behind his spectacles, and for a moment Toxxic wonders what the PA is thinking. Washington’s loyalty has always been to his friend and client rather than the group as a whole, which would suggest that if Sean Davis decided to go his own way Marcus would follow him. Davis himself sits next to Marcus, his impressive bulk dwarfing his companion and adding to the impression of the aptly-named Perfect Storm as a threatening thundercloud. The lightning has yet to fall, but Toxxic can feel the rumblings from here. The man who appears to be the main reason for Davis’ discontent is seated a little way away from his Pay-Per-View tag partner; Andrew Blackwell - known better as Sacred - has dark rings under his eyes that make him look tired, but Toxxic is well aware that there is a very sharp mind behind them. Quite what that mind is thinking is anyone’s guess; the Straight-Edge Sensation believes that he knows, but his is not the only opinion on the matter. ‘Hollywood’ Spike Jenkins, the SWF’s Cruiserweight Champion, is leaning against the door to the right of and slightly behind Toxxic, a position that makes the Brit vaguely uneasy. Normally he’d have no problem with a stablemate apparently guarding the doorway... but Spike has been behaving rather differently lately. “Ready for what?” Spike asks, his tone unfriendly. Toxxic turns and fixes his fellow straight-edger with a glare that Spike meets for a moment before subsiding slightly. “The Battle Royale,” Toxxic says, more patiently than he feels. “The chance to be number one seed in the tournament to get a title shot at the World Heavyweight Championship.” He pats the belt slung over his right shoulder. “Although you know Spike, I’m wondering why you’re looking for a shot at me when you still haven’t taken that shot for the ICTV belt.” “Dude, I was waiting for Maddix to get it back off that loser King,” Spike snorts in response. “Don’t worry, I’ll take it from him soon - then after I’ve done that, I’ll come for the World Title.” The man from California smirks slightly. “No matter who’s got it.” “You’ll have to win the tournament first,” Sacred says quietly. Spike bristles in response to the Australian’s tone. “Are you saying I can’t do it?” he demands, taking a step towards Blackwell. “I’m the best damn wrestler on the roster, of course I can do it!” “What I want to know is why you two are even in this Battle Royale,” Sean Davis rumbles. “We’re meant to be a team, remember?” “Says the man who speared his tag partner at Ashes 2 Ashes,” Sacred responds cuttingly. This time it is the Perfect Storm who rises to his feet and advances menacingly on the former leader of the Experiment. “You just got in my way!” Davis snaps. “If you were interested in winning that match, maybe you’d have turned up beforehand to discuss tactics instead of staying away!” “Because my company is so sought after...” Sacred murmurs, causing Davis to bristle even more until Toxxic places a restraining black-nailed hand on his chest. “Sacred, shut it,” the Straight-Edge Sensation snaps at the Australian, who shrugs and sits back. “Sean, cool it - we know it was an accident. Besides, I’m not bothered about them being in the Battle Royale at all. I’ve got no intentions of losing this belt, but if I am going to then I’d rather it be to a Revolution Zero member than anyone else. If you’re not interested in winning this title, you shouldn’t be in the business.” “Oh, so you’re saying I’m not ambitious enough?” Davis asks, turning on his leader. “Because I don’t push myself forward like those two,” the big man gestures at Spike and Sacred who both look vaguely aggrieved at being lumped together, “that I shouldn’t be here!?” “That’s not what I meant at all-” Toxxic begins, trying to calm the Perfect Storm. “Dude, all I know is that all the SWF champions are in the Battle Royale,” Spike interjects, tapping his belt. “That’s why I’m in there. I don’t know how he got in!” he continues, pointing an accusatory finger at Sacred who manages to pull off an expression of wounded innocence with such ease that it almost looks realistic. “When you’ve been here as long as me you get to know some of the right people...” is all the Aussie offers by way of explanation. “You see?” Spike almost shouts at Toxxic. “He’s just in this for his own benefit! He wants to use us-” “Spike-” “-to make sure he’s got backup when he needs it,” Spike continues over the top of Toxxic’s aborted sentence, “and then when you think you can trust him-” “Spike-” Toxxic tries again, with about as much success as before “-he’ll turn on you! You can be blind if you want Toxx, but I’m not going to fall for his tricks-” “SHUT UP!!” Spike cuts off in mid-flow as Toxxic swivels round to confront him head-on, then opens his mouth to speak again but is overridden by the torrent of words that explode from the World Heavyweight Champion. “I have had enough!” The Straight-Edge Sensation shouts, turning to look at the rest of the locker room. “I have had enough of this bickering and this backstabbing and this happiness-corrupt-political bullshit! This is my fucking stable, and what I say goes! If any of you don’t like it the door is over there, but be aware of this; once you are not in this room you are my enemy, and I will take you out!” He stares around at the faces looking at him, and seems to calm himself slightly. “I don’t want to do that. We can all work as a team, and I will prove it to you. Spike! Sacred!” Toxxic turns back to the two wrestlers he has just named and points a finger at each of them in turn. “You two are going to give it everything you’ve got in that Battle Royale tonight, and then you’re going to do your very best to win that tournament and face me for this belt. If you don’t, I am going to personally take you to the fucking cleaners! Spike, you wanted a piece of me at Ashes 2 Ashes - well save it up sunshine, because if you play your cards right you just might get it with this on the line,” the straight-edger continues, taking the belt from off his shoulder and waving it in Hollywood’s face before whipping around to face Sean Davis. “Sean, you’ve got this show off so why don’t you sit down, rest up, take some legal advice from Marcus and try and get yourself out of whatever funk it is you’re in?” Toxxic bites out, looking up at the Perfect Storm. “It wasn’t that long ago you were beating two men at a time - now you can’t manage to take out some street bitch and a goof under a mask when you have a former World Champion as a tag partner!” “I’m guessing I’m not exactly Mr. Popular at the moment,” Toxxic says, looking around at them. “Well that’s just fine, and no change from the usual. If any of you want me, you can have me; when you earn a World Title shot.” Just for a moment, the familiar lopsided grin creases the face of the Straight-Edge Sensation. “So get to it.” And with that, the World Heavyweight Champion turns on his heel and stalks out of the door. Jet flashes a grin at the remaining Rev-0 members and eases through the opening before Toxxic reaches back and slams the door behind him; then there are only Jenkins, Davis, Washington and Blackwell, left looking at each other. "Oh, I will," Spike says softly, turning his attention back to the closed door. "And you'd better be ready."

“Ladies and Gentlemen…the following tag team contest is scheduled for ONE FALL with a sixty minute time limit…” The voice of Funyon greets viewers as the commercial break ends, but before he can continue the fully lit arena is dropped down and into hues of blue as a rhythmic acoustic riff explodes into high octane rock and roll, bringing the first competitor out from behind the curtain… “Introducing first…from Saint Louis, Missouri and weighing in at two hundred and thirty pounds… AUSTIN SLY!!!” “Welcome back, everybody and this looks like it’s going to be a fun fast-paced match-up as the man you see before you, Austin Sly, is teaming up with the Kaine to take on the venerable Andrea Montgomery….” The Cyclone Comet suddenly trails off as the crowd reigns down boos on Austin, causing his face to twist into a smirk. “Say it! Say it! Montgomery and Mike Van Siclen! I know you are thinking it, Comet!” “...and her partner...the Ghost. We have all heard the reports that the masked man could very well be the Spectacle himself, but there has of yet been NO confirmation, Robert.” “Who else could it be? Did you see the look on that punk Todd Cortez’s face at Ashes to Ashes! And don’t forget Van Siclen being his usually cocky self after the match! We all saw it!” As Riley and Comet continue to bicker, Austin Sly hits the ring, barely getting to his feet before the ominous “Feuer Frei” hits the loudspeakers and Kaine steps out into the same blue light, mocking the crowd as he comes down the ramp, raising his hands in victory to a resounding chorus of boos and jeers. “And his partner…from Kassel, Germany…weighing in at one hundred and ninety one pounds… KAAAAAAAAAINE!!!” “Kaine may be smaller than your average wrestler, but the young gun sure packs a punch, doesn’t he Robert?” “Stop changing the subject!” Riley retorts quickly as Kaine rolls into the ring and moves toward Sly, the two shaking hands before turning their attention back to the entranceway, just in time to be nearly blinded by bright green pyro, and nearly deafened by the fans around them as “Just A Girl” hits the PA System. First through the curtain comes Zutroy, but his feisty sister is right on his toes, her energy feeding the crowd and causing their cheers to become louder and louder with each passing note. Funyon is nearly drowned out. “And now their opponents…introducing first, she hails from Biloxi, Mississippi and weighs in at one hundred and forty five pounds soaking wet… ANDREA MONTGOOOOOMERY!!!” “All that talk about Kaine and Andrea, a former number one contender, comes out to lower the bar!” “Oh, Robert, you are just upset because she looks better in a dress than you do…” The comment from the superhero causes a shifty eyed look from Riley. “Just shut up…just shut up! We’re about to see that coward Mike Van Siclen!” “I highly doubt that…” Andrea stops at the bottom of the ramp, cautious of stepping into the ring. She may be tough, but two-on-one situations are bad news no matter what. All of the sudden, familiar words ring from oblivion. “I’m head of the class…I’m popular…” RAAAAAAAAAHHHH!! The crowd explodes as Nada Surf’s “Popular” piques up, causing the arena to cheer wildly and nearly cause Bobby Riley to jump out of his seat. “I TOLD YOU ALL! HE’S HERE!” But Bobby’s celebration is cut short as the music is abruptly cut, only for the camera to swing from the entranceway just in time to catch the masked figure enter the back of the ring right through the crowd, taking down Kaine with a quick forearm shot to the back. The crowd begins to cheer once more as Funyon makes a hasty exit and the referee calls for the opening bell… Ding! Ding! Ding! Austin Sly immediately jumps to his partner’s aid, pulling the Ghost off his feet and turning him around and into a front facelock, but at Sly tries to pull the masked man off his feet he is caught from behind by Andrea Montgomery, who leaps into the air and plants her feet right between his shoulders. The impact sends Sly forward as the Ghost lifts up, holding Austin in the air before turning and driving him down hard into the canvas. The Ghost stands to his feet and raises his hands high in the air, causing another explosion from the sold-out Irish crowd…but the referee has seen enough. As Austin Sly rolls toward the apron, the referee admonishes Montgomery and her masked partner, until finally the Ghost steps out of the ring, slapping the turnbuckle and turning his attention to the crowd as Andrea moves in on the now recovered Kaine. “Finally, Van Siclen did not waste any time cheating in this match and he is lucky he did not get his team disqualified!” “Sometimes the element of surprise is all that stands between a victory and a defeat, Riley.” “So you are advocating cheating! Justice seeker my left eye!” Riley continues to attack Comet as Andrea and Kaine lock-up in the center of the ring, with the slightly larger Kaine getting the advantage, pushing Andrea down and turning her into a headlock, but the feisty Montgomery fights out, pushing forward and sending Kaine into the ropes. As the young rookie comes flying back, Montgomery ducks down to the canvas, only for Kaine to slide to a stop and turn his body as he falls, driving his elbow right across her neck. “See, Robert…the element of surprise!” Andrea clutches at her neck and tries to get back to her feet, but Kaine stays on her, standing and jumping into the air, bringing his knee down across her neck and rolling forward, somersaulting up and to his feet… …and right into the corner of the Ghost. “Uh oh…” Kaine takes a look at the masked figure, and even though his eyes are covered everyone can see that they are locked in each other’s gaze. “What’s going to happen he—WAIT!” One! Two! NOOOOOOOO!! “Why that despicable wench!” Riley exclaims, “trying to cheat her way to victory with that roll-up!” “I do not see how that is cheating Robert, as Kaine should have kept his eyes on his opponent in the ring.” “Could you do that with Van Siclen on the apron ready to pounce at any given moment, just like he did at the beginning of the match!!” Kaine is quite the angry German as he stands to his feet and meets Andrea head on, both of them clashing into a tie-up. Kaine takes the advantage once again and whips Montgomery into his corner, pinning her there with his foot before tagging in Austin Sly, who happily jumps in and pulls Andrea out of the corner and into the ring, making sure to give the Ghost a quick glance over his shoulder before lifting Montgomery up and over his head, holding her in the air… “Now that is some power, Comet. He’s just toying with her!” Riley laughs as Sly does a quick half turn and falls to the canvas, driving Andrea’s body into the mat. THUD! Austin quickly turns and falls on top of Andrea, hooking her leg and pulling it back as the referee drops down for the count… One! Two! Th-NOOOOO!!! “Andrea Montgomery kicks out, and just look at her partner and brother on the outside!” Comet yells as both the Ghost and Zutroy try to rally the crowd behind Andrea, all of them chanting and stomping wildly. “LETS GO DREA LETS GO! LETS GO DREA LETS GO!” The crowd continues to chant as Austin pulls Andrea to her feet and immediately hooks her into another front facelock, wrenching the neck as hard as he can. Every time she tries to fight back, Sly wrenches it a little harder, causing her to flail and push and do everything to try to escape, but just as she is about to get free, Sly falls backwards, lifting the femme fatale slightly and driving her straight down onto the top of her head. Another quick cover…. One! Two! Thr—BROKEN UP! The Ghost hits the ring, driving his knee into the back of Austin’s head, bringing Kaine into the mix as well. The referee tries to keep order, but just before Kaine can make contact with Ghost, the masked man steps back, raising his hands in innocence. “I told you, Comet! Look at that coward!” The referee gets between them and pushes Kaine toward his corner, but just as he turns his back the Ghost goes back on the attack, sending his foot into the side of Sly’s head once more, the kick bringing Kaine back into the center of the ring as he nearly pushes over the referee, but the Ghost is too quick, and hits the outside before the Untouchable can catch him. The referee once again tries to restore order, yelling at Kaine to take his place on the apron and then turning toward the Ghost on the outside, who continues his plea of innocent until proven guilty as he climbs back up into his corner and clutches the tag rope, overzealously motioning for Andrea to make a tag, but Austin Sly is recovering as well…and sits in her way. With the two on their knees they dive at each other, but Andrea twists her body at the last second, doing a full three sixty only a foot off the ground, causing Sly to miss her by inches and crash into the mat. With the crowd’s pitch growing closer and closer to fervor, Andrea dives for her corner… SLAP! …and the tag is made!! RAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!! The Ghost hops over the top rope and into the ring, meeting Austin as he gets to his feet with a hard knee to the chest. Austin falls back, but the Ghost grabs him by the wrist and turns his body, tossing him back into his corner. Ghost heads to the other side of the ring, waving toward the camera and giving the fans at home a quick thumbs up before turning back and rushing toward his corner, but before any contact is made Sly comes bursting out, stretching his arm out and looking for a clothesline, but the Ghost ducks out of the way!! “The agility this mystery man has shown at Ashes to Ashes and even tonight could very well make whomever it is underneath that mask a very gifted competitor here in the SWF for years to come!” “Listen to yourself, acting as if Mike is some sort of rookie just cause he is wearing that stupid mask!” “Just doing my job, Robert…” Comet replies as Austin turns back to face the Ghost, only to take another hard knee to the stomach. The shot doubles over Sly, and the Ghost immediately takes advantage, hooking him into a front facelock and falling toward the canvas, spinning his body a full half-turn and catching Austin by the hair, driving him down into the mat with everything he can. SMACK! “Did you see that, Comet! Tell me you just saw the Code Red!” “Well, I can not lie and say I didn’t just see that…” “That proves it, Van Siclen is toying with you, me, the fans, and everyone in the back by coming back after his…forced…retirement!” “Oh calm down, Robert…you only wish he would toy with you!” “I SAID SHUT UP!!” The fans around the arena continue to cheer as the Ghost stands to his feet and spins around, looking in every direction as the cheers turn to nothing but three simple letters… “M-V-S! M-V-S! M-V-S!” “See…even the fans here in Ireland, drunk as they might be, know that it’s Van Siclen!!” The masked man gives another quick thumbs up the crowd before pulling Austin Sly to his feet and tagging his partner back into the match. She springs on to the top rope while Ghost gets low (Despite no Lil’ Jon being played at all), sweeping Austin’s legs out from under him as Drea leaps off, nailing Sly with a dropkick. “What good team work from Ghost and Andrea Montgomery! Beautiful leg sweep and dropkick combination,” Comet states. “Are you kidding! That was blatantly illegal! In flagrante delicto!” Riley bellows. “Fragrantly delicious?” Comet asks, having never taken high school or college Latin. “No, it means in the commission of the act! They did it right in front of the referee’s eyes! Were Kaine and Sly to perform such an act, I’m sure you’d be clamoring for their immediate disqualification!” Riley shouts. “Perhaps, but you’d be applauding their ingenuity,” Comet replies. “Oh come on! IT’S VAN SICLEN UNDER THAT MASK!” Bobby cries. Drea gets to her feet, pulls Austin up as well, and whips him to the ropes. As he bounces off, Sly reaches out and barely grazes Kaine’s hand. Local referee Seamus Rahim O’Horrowitz sees it and declares it a legal tag, something that goes unnoticed by Andrea Montgomery. She runs towards Sly who drops, forcing her to leap over, right into a springboard cross body block from the Teuton tumbler. Sly quickly scrambles to his feet and exits the ring while Kaine hooks Andrea’s leg and the ref slides in to count. One! Two! Thre--NOOO! “Andrea barely got a shoulder up after that cross body from Kaine! Well, Bobby, aren’t you going to condemn Austin Sly and Kaine for use of a double team move?” Comet inquires. “Of course not! It wasn’t a double team at all! Andrea Montgomery wasn’t paying attention and didn’t notice Kaine become the legal man. It’s not his fault she wanted to attack Austin Sly. They simply took advantage of an opportunity. Stuff like that is the marking of a true competitor and a future champion,” Riley says. Kaine gets to his feet, takes a few steps away from Drea, and slides into her face with a dropkick. Confident in the move’s potency, Kaine goes for another lateral press. One! Two! Three--BROKEN UP! Seamus springs to his feet a second before Kaine, both men seething with anger at Ghost after the diving double ax handle to the back of the Untouchable’s head. Arms raised and hands open, Ghost backpedals, trying to plead his case, but neither referee nor opponent will hear it as they continue to brow beat the masked man. With his back in the corner, he quickly points over the referee’s shoulders towards Austin Sly and Andrea Montgomery. Seamus spins around to see Sly simply standing on the apron while Andrea is slowly coming to. Ghost takes this opportunity to spring forward and blast Kaine with a superkick before heading back under the ropes. “Now that’s just wrong! Not only did Ghost, wait, why am I calling him that? Not only did Mike Van Siclen break up that pin with an ax handle, he lied to the referee and hit Kaine with that superkick! Surely he and Andrea Montgomery should be disqualified by now, right?” Riley begs. “Well, I agree that he shouldn’t have broken up that pin, and tricking the referee isn’t very noble either, but in the case of the superkick, I might have to pull from your bag of tricks and say that if the referee did not see it happen, it did not occur,” Comet replies. As Kaine falls to the mat, Sly does enter the ring, heading straight for Ghost, but the ref intervenes, unaware of what just happened behind him. Austin takes turns bellowing at Ghost and Seamus, to no avail. Drea slowly gets to a vertical base, bounces off the ropes, and snatches Austin by the back of the head and sends him to the mat with a spinning neckbreaker. Drea gets up moments prior to the sour Kraut, and dropkicks him directly into Ghost, who humiliates Kaine with a bitch slap. “Ghost just smacked the taste out of Kaine’s mouth!” Comet exclaims. “And you condone this? That referee must be drunk, and since we are in Dublin, that’s highly possible, but I would think that even intoxicated he’d be able to disqualify Van Siclen,” Riley says. The ref admonishes Ghost, and as Kaine holds a hand to his cheek, Drea rushes him, snaring the Untouchable with a rear waistlock. The momentum takes the German back into the corner, and Ghost helps out with a shove that sends him backwards and to the mat with Andrea on top after the rolling prawn. One! Two! Three--NOOO!! Kaine kicks out, sending Andrea flying into the corner, and Ghost acts quickly, grabbing her before impact, which the referee acknowledges as a legal tag. “I wonder how Andrea Montgomery and Mike Van Siclen will fare now that he’s the legal man. Andrea doesn’t cheat as much as Van Siclen does, so problems might arise. Problems Kaine and Austin Sly can take advantage of,” Riley says. “I think they’ll do just fine. Kaine and Austin Sly are on the ropes right now, so perhaps you should worry about them,” Comet replies. Ghost enters the ring before Kaine can get to his feet, and the Specter (Or perhaps Spectacle?) keeps him down with a knee to the head. Ghost wheels around, arms outstretched, trying to find the camera with the best view of himself. What he doesn’t see is Austin Sly getting to his feet, slinking behind him, and snaring him in a waistlock. He arches his back and sends the Ghost to the canvas with a belly to back suplex. The ref is instantly in Austin’s face, ordering him back to his corner. Sly tries to stall as long as possible, and as soon as Kaine starts to get to his feet, he acquiesces and steps between the ropes. “What do you have to say about that, Bobby?” Comet inquires. “Huh? What happened? I had something in my eye and missed whatever it is you are talking about,” Riley replies. “I’m sure. I’m talking about Austin Sly, who is not the legal man for his team, suplexing Ghost!” Comet exclaims. “Well, and I might be wrong about this, but up until some foreign object found its way into my eye, Austin Sly was on the mat after Andrea Montgomery attacked him at a time when he was not the legal man. So, I’ll chalk this up to justice being served. Sly was attacked despite not being tagged in, so he returned the favor so to speak,” Riley says. Ghost slowly gets up and goes right back down thanks to a dropkick from Kaine. The Untouchable vaults to the top turnbuckle and poses while waiting for Ghost to get back up. The masked man rises once more, Kaine flies towards him, scissors his head, and sends Ghost to the mat with a rana. Kaine reaches back and hooks a leg. One! Two! Three--NOO! Ghost manages to get a shoulder off the mat and the crowd explodes in support. “M-V-S! M-V-S! M-V-S!” Kaine rises to his feet and fires off a kick to Ghost’s head, keeping the masked man down on the mat. He heads for the ropes, bounces off, jumps in the air, and drops an elbow across Ghost’s chest. “Excellent corkscrew elbow drop from Kaine. Now I think it’s Andrea Montgomery and Ghost Van Siclen who are on the ropes!” Riley exclaims. “It would appear that way, Bobby, but we must always wait until the fat lady sing,” Comet points out. “Who’s that, your momma?!” Riley shouts. The Untouchable rises once more, springs to the top turnbuckle, reaches out, and tags in Austin Sly. Austin waits outside the ring while Kaine leaps off the buckle, crashing on top of Ghost with a moonsault before climbing into the ring himself. Sly hauls the masked man up, cinches in an arm wringer, and pulls him forward, driving his knee into Ghost’s midsection. Austin quickly grabs Ghost around the waist, lifts, and slams him down with a back breaker. Sly doesn’t let go, however, and places a forearm across Ghost’s throat, forcing Seamus start a five count. One! Two! Three! Four! Sly pulls his arm up and shoves Ghost off of his knee. Austin lifts Ghost off the mat and whips him to the ropes. He extends his arm and just manages to slap hands with Andrea, tagging her in as Austin bends forward, looking for a back body drop. Drea leaps onto the top buckle and springs off while Ghost clings desperately to the top rope, stopping his momentum. Just as Austin’s wondering where in the hell Ghost is, Andrea drives an elbow into the back of his neck, taking Sly to the mat. “Picture perfect flying elbow drop from Andrea Montgomery! I’d be willing to say that now Andrea Montgomery and Ghost are back in control of this match. What about you, Robert?” Comet inquires. “Come on! That should be illegal! You have to let the opponents know that a tag has been made!” Riley fumes. Drea gets up, runs right for the corner, and springs to the top rope. She pauses for a moment, waiting for Sly to get to his feet, and scampers across the cable as soon as he does. She slides about a foot and jumps, nailing Austin with a leg lariat. Drea reaches over and hooks his leg. One! Two! Three--NOO! Sly barely gets a shoulder up with Kaine a few steps away and he quickly heads back to his corner before Seamus Rahim O’Horrowitz notices. Andrea hauls Sly back up and whips him to the ropes. As he bounces back, Ghost reaches out and slaps Austin on the back of the head, causing the man from St. Louis to swiftly turn around. Seamus rushes to step between the two men, but Andrea is faster and she pulls Sly down with a school boy. One! Two! Three--NOOOO!! “Austin Sly just managed to kick out! He really needs to tag Kaine in if they have any thought about winning this match,” Comet states. “Maybe the referee should enforce some rules! That might help them. I mean, Van Siclen is getting away with everything! It’s not fair! It’s just not fair!” Riley whines. Andrea gets to her feet, grabs Sly by the wrist, and tags in Ghost. She whips him to the ropes, runs towards him as he bounces back, and jumps in the air, planting the soles of her feet into Austin’s gut. Drea grabs him by the head and sends him over with a monkey flip. However, he doesn’t crash into the mat as Ghost catches him in mid-air! Ghost lowers Sly to the correct height, and drops to his knees. He quickly makes the cover while Drea rushes towards Kaine and knocks him off the apron and to the floor with a cross body block. One! Two! Three! Seamus rises and signals for the bell to be rung. Ding! Ding! Ding! “Ladies and gentlemen, the winners of this match via pinfall, ANDREA MONTGOMERY AND GHOST!” Funyon roars over the cheering crowd. “NO! That’s not fair! Illegal double team move! They should be disqualified, damn it!” Riley bellows. “Well, at least you aren’t complaining that Ghost is Mike Van Siclen for ending the match with the Riot Act,” Comet says. “That too! The man was retired! He lost his career to Toxxic! It’s not right!” Riley screeches. As Comet and Riley bicker back and forth, Ghost slides out of the ring to help Andrea up. Joined by Zutroy, they raise their arms in victory and the trio heads back up the ramp.