Thoth

Backstage at SWF Storm, a single camera comes to life, revealing a chair in the middle of a room and a figure moving into frame. As the figure sits in the chair, it's revealed to be Manson! The fans cheer and scream, as Manson begins speaking… "As you may recall, on Smarkdown Max King challenged me to a… submission-only Steel Cage Match at Genesis…" chuckles Manson. "Well, first things first King, you don't have the **BLEEP**ing right!" "Months ago, you turn on me in a tag match… Then, you tap out at Ground Zero in our USJL Championship Match, reinjuring me the show after because you couldn't handle the fact… I know that still eats away at you, by the way… And finally, you cost me the title against Everheart… And yet, you have the nerve to issue the challenge and to call me the cheater, you have the nerve to call me jealous, sneaky and manipulative." "I've been uncharacteristically patient with you, Max," says Manson, as he calmly runs a hand through his hair, before leaning closer to the camera. "Lately, I've shown all the restraint I'm capable of. Make no mistake, you son of a bitch, were this the old me, you'd be laid up in the hospital by now…You haven't come close to seeing what I can do to my enemies…" "You know, the more I think about it, this match doesn't sound like such a bad idea. I'm through being the nice guy, Max. I'm tired of the head games, I'm tired of the sneak attacks. At Genesis, it's time to end this once and for all. Injured leg or not, I will walk out of Genesis the winner..." says Manson, as he grins, stands and walks out of frame. "I suppose it's official, it's Manson versus Max King at Genesis in a Steel Cage Submission Match!" screams Comet. "We'll be right back with more Storm, after this…"

“Welcome back to Storm, loyal citizens, it is I, CYYYCCCLLLOONNNEEE COOOO-“ Before Comet can recite his trademark greeting, the arena is shaken to its very core by- *BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!* -The hard bass line strikes of Muse’s ‘Hyper Music’, which signals the entrance of the one and only Ace Lezaire, striding out form behind the curtain with a cocky grin on his dial. He stands at the top of the stage, raising his arms to the heavens, thanking them for his looks and talent as… *BOOM!* …Two tall bursts of pyro explode either side of him, before the Prodigy heads to the ring, waving to the fans graciously, but they don’t return the warm gesture, instead, mocking and booing the Canadian as walks down the ramp! It matters not to Lezaire who tries to slap hands with the fans, but no one takes him up on his offer, much to his dismay. He puts it behind him however, smiling into Steve’s camera, who follows in tow, sliding into the ring, as Funyon prepares his introductions. “Ladies and Gentleman, the following match is a TRIPLE THREAT MATCH, and it is for the S W F United States Junior League Championship!” The fans love the sounds of that, but detest the sight of Lezaire, pantomiming the belt being around his waist… “Humph…” Grumbles Comet. “Such a rude, inconsiderate man! But anyway, welcome back folks, you’ve joined us just in time, as we prepare for what will be a fast, hard-hitting contest!” “My prediction: Ace Crusher. Twenty two seconds in. New Champion.” Riley replies with a smirk, nodding his head as he watches Lezaire with pride. “Introducing first,” continues Funyon, “from Vancouver, BC, Canada. Weighing in at two hundred and thirty five pounds… please welcome, the Sovereign of Swagger, the Ace of Spades… he is, ACE LEEEZZZAAAAIIIRRRREEEEE!” They don’t have to feel so glum for long however as Crystal Method’s “Name of the Game” begins to pulse through the sound system, as a blistering-fast video package races across the SmarkTron. Images of Levy flying across, around, and out of the ring are interspersed with black-and-white footage of Levy leaning against a brick wall, one foot braced against it, strumming away on an electric guitar… which seems to drive the fans wild. That, or his long, hippy hair. “His opponent, from… and undisclosed Maryland Suburb. Weighing in at two hundred and thirty three pounds… ladies and gentleman, he is the Poet… he is… BRYAN LEEEEEEEEVVVVVVVVYYYYYYYY!” The music swells, and finally drops off, before… …Mutha’fuck *BAM!!* White pyro explodes all along the entrance ramp, heralding Levy’s entrance through the curtains at the top. The man himself strides out from behind the curtain into a wave of support from the fans, yet he remains cool, but the grin on his face tells a story of confidence. He stops in the middle of the ramp way, cutting through the air to make an X, sending the fans into an absolute frenzy! “While his entrance is a tad crude…” Comet says. “There’s no doubting the fans love Citizen Levy, and he hasn’t even had a match on an SWF stage!” “Yes he did, Freak, TNT just forgot to edit it in, the schmuck.” Comet hastily tries to cover that break in kayfabe. “Yes! I do believe he had a dark match last week, well spotted!” As he slides into the ring, he catches sight of Lezaire, hamming it up for the camera. He strides over, pushing Lezaire aside and kneeling down, looking into Steve’s camera and reciting some of his favorite verses. Lezaire is ready to tear Levy limb from limb for stealing his spotlight, but luckily “Bank on Earth” by Ozzy Osborne begins to play, saving him the embarrassment as the fans begin to cheer! “…And making his way to the ring,” bellows Funyon, “from Oil City, Pennsylvania. Weighing in at two hundred and seventy seven pounds… he is the current reigning USJL Champion… Please welcome… DAVID CCCCCCRRRROOOOOOSSSSSSSSS!” The crowd erupts in cheers as Cross appears on the top or the ramp, both Levy and Lezaire turning to meet him, eyeing the gold belt around his waist. A cross remains focused, but is heartened by the crowd’s show of support and raises his arm to greet them. “That’s right, play to your fans; you’ll have none by tomorrow morning when they see a REAL champion hold the belt, “Riley forecasts with a smirk. “Stop trying to bring the man down, Robert!” snaps Comet. “Citizen Cross has been a terrific new addition to the SWF roster, and will always have his fans AND will no doubt dispatch of the sniveling Lezaire forthwith!” Cross raises his arms high above his head, acknowledging the devoted crowd support, proudly holding the USJL title his hands, and vowing to the fans that he will remain champion into the morrow. However, Ace, almost hyperventilating at the thought of the fans not paying attention to him, seeks to rain on Cross’ parade, hurling himself towards the ropes and plants his boots into his back with a dropkick to start the match! DING! DING! DING! Cross goes end over end, tumbling onto the floor as the title is thrown into the air after the shunting blow. Ace holds out his arms, letting the title fall into his grasp, seeing his reflection in the gold. An almost perverted smile breaks out on Lezaire’s face, imagining the glory and success having a title would bring him- *CRACK!* -that is, until Levy halts his delusions of grandeur with a swift Roundhouse kick, hitting him square in the jaw! Both Ace and the title hurtle away, with Lezaire hitting the corner, dazed and confused. Levy picks up the title and simply smirks, handing it to Soapdish, but telling him to keep it close at hand, as this won’t take long. With that, the long-haired stoner lives up to his reputation as he charges towards the ropes and leaps over in spectacular fashion, before hurtling straight into Cross! The impact isn’t quite as spectacular, but the fans pop nonetheless! “An intense opening foray has all three men down, but the fans on their feet!” shouts Comet, cringing as a replay of Levy’s suicide dive is shown. “Citizen Cross has ended up worse for ware already, and if he’s not careful, and not on his guard, he could end up losing that title of his as quick as a flash!” “Of course, Freak, and it’s quite obvious that Lezaire is looking the goods already.” Riley replies, watching both Cross and Levy climb to their feet, stumbling away from each other. “We’ve already seen Levy’s unpredictable and unstable offence which will kill him if he’s not careful, and Cross has been a dimwitted fool.” “Oh, but he’s no fool, Robert. A GPA of 3.7 is nothing to sneeze at! He’s inspiration for kids to stay in school!” Comet delivers that last line whilst smiling directly into camera and giving a thumbs up for a good five seconds. “Pfft, it’s not like you’d ever use an algebraic equation to help you hit a Powerbomb. School is for suckers, kids.” As Levy and Cross just start to find their feet, Lezaire salutes the crowd, drawing spiteful boos as he prepares himself, placing his hands on the top rope, ready to dive down across his opponents. Both Levy and Cross and wise to his plans, however, and they each grab an ankle and trip Ace up, pulling him underneath the bottom rope and out onto the floor! The show on unity between the two fan favorites sends the fans into a frenzy, but Levy knows he can’t trust a guy with a Cross around his neck for long, and neither can David trust a long haired hippy. They slide into the ring at the same time, meeting each other in the centre of the ring. *BAM!* Cross fires off a forearm, connecting with the jaw. *THUMP!* Levy retaliates with a kick to the kidney. *BAM!* *THUMP!* *BAM!* *THUMP!* The two trade blows, neither gaining the ascendancy, until Levy stuns Cross with a sharp kick to the bread basket, winding the champion. With a window of a few seconds to press his advantage, Levy connects with a Spinning Sobat Kick to the chest, sending Cross backing into the ropes. The fans sense Levy has something in mind as he waits for Cross to return. As he does, Lezaire, grumbling something about a conspiracy, claws himself up onto the canvas, before slowly climbing to the top turnbuckle. At the same time, Levy leaps straight into the air, taking Cross around the neck and flipping him over with a Hurricanrana! Cross lands hard, and is immediately pinned as Levy reaches back, grabbing each leg ONE! TW- But Cross pushes Levy away as he kicks out, rolling out to the side. The Poet, though looking well and truly stoned, feels a burst of confidence as he climbs to his feet, welcoming the fans love with open arms. He turns around, trying to find the Canadian he dispatched of earlier… Levy Catches sight of him on the top rope, flying off with a Cross-body splash! Lezaire crashes into Levy, quickly hooking him by the leg as Soapdish counts ONE! But only gets to one as Levy kicks Ace away, easily breaking the count, almost insulted by Lezaire’s refusal to lie down and let him win. The Poet and the Prodigy meet each other face to face as they recover quickly, neither man letting the other have even a split-second advantage. An moment of uncertainty creeps into both men’s mind as they look at each other, before the stand-off is broken with an- *WHACK!* -open hand slap to the face from Ace! The fans, twenty thousand strong, all cry “OOOH!” before letting their objections be known, calling for Lezaire’s head! Levy rubs his jaw, thinking he didn’t get trained by the best, to be slapped by some unknown wannabe without an iota of real talent. Brian prepares to show him what true talent is, letting go another side kick… “He’s caught him!” cries Cyclone Comet, amazed at the Canadian’s nimble reactions for once. “Citizen Lezaire has learnt much from his time in the SWF, and he knew his opponent would retaliate to his slap, which was utterly disrespectful, mind you… and that Levy would try to catch him by surprise, but he thwarted his plans.” “Brian Levy ain’t half the man Lezaire is. I don’t care who he was trained by, he ain’t got nothin’ on Ace. I mean, look at him spin around, legs flying, he obviously has no idea…” *BAM!* “… No idea who framed Roger Rabbit. Nope. Absolutely none.” “Nice save, Bobbo, but Citizen Levy was trained BY the best to BE the best because he IS the best! And he’s already shown it, connecting with an Gamengiri right on the nose!” The sight of Lezaire’s head hitting the canvas warms the heart of every fan in the arena. Levy pounces on Ace and hooks him by the leg, as Soapdish slides over for ONE! TWO! Only a two count, as Ace rolls a shoulder off the mat, then proceeding to scamper across the mat to escape the fray. Levy charges right after the Canadian, bringing him to his feet and sending him bolting towards the ropes. Lezaire runs into yet more trouble, literally, as a rejuvenated Cross lowers his head and sends him flying over the top rope, but… “… He lands unscathed on the apron!” bellows the Superhero. “Citizen Lezaire skins the cat, barely holding on for dear life, but once again, the nefarious cretin’s dumb luck shines through.” Lezaire tries to find his footing just as Levy bursts out of the blocks, looking to blindside Cross, but he’s denied as Cross darts to the side and sends him into the ropes… OOOOOHHHH! …straight into Lezaire’s waiting arms, who hops off the apron, grabbing Levy by his flowing locks and pulling his throat down across the cable! “Dumb luck? No, no, Comet, he’s crafty, intelligent, and not bad to look at either. Just when you think he’s done and dusted… BAM! Hits you with a Stone Cold Stunner and it’s all over.” “Who’s this Stone Cold character then…?” Levy gasps as his neck snaps back, turning him in a half circle, right into David Cross, who lowers his head, grabs Levy around the waist, and…. *WHAM!* …drops him like a sack of potatoes, nailing him with a vicious Spinebuster! The Champion’s impressive exploits draw cheers from the crowd, but groans from Levy who rolls away, battered and bruised. “Such awesome power from this young man,” marvels Comet, watching Cross breathe heavily, taking a moment to calm down after losing himself for just a moment. “Cross has been a bright light in a federation full of villains, but I sense a dark side that contains great hatred. I hope Citizen Cross stays the path of Justice…” Riley pokes Comet in the chest with a cane. “Much anger in him, there is. Succumb to the dark side, he will.” The ovation from the fans seems to warm Cross’ spirit, but the adulation is cut terribly short as Lezaire strikes stealthily from behind, taking Cross down with a chop block to the right knee! Cross tumbles to the mat, clutching his old Football injury while Lezaire sets himself up again, ready to attack. “What was I saying about villains, huh!?” Comet yells, almost out of his seat, ready to berate the Canadian. “Such underhanded tactics from Ace, is there nothing he won’t stoop too!?” “Settle down there, Freak,” snaps Riley, ready to defend Ace to the hilt. “It shows Ace has done his homework, and the lengths he’s willing to go to win the USJL Championship. I wouldn’t expect anything less.” “That’s because you’re a dirty, filthy lowlife like him! He’s exploiting an old injury to get ahead, and it’s just not right! But I’m confident that justice will prevail in the end,” proclaims Comet, leading the fans in long, prolonged jeering of Lezaire. But the Canadian is in the zone. The expression on his face says it all; big, cheesy grin and sharp, determined eyes, zeroed straight in on that knee as- BOOOOOOOO! -he takes Cross down yet again with a Chop Block! The pain coursing through Cross’ right knee causes him to wail, rolling over and clutching his knee, gritting his teeth and punching the mat. Lezaire doesn’t take long in planning his next angle of attack, crossing David’s legs over and threading his own leg through, before reaching over his back and applying a Facelock! “Cross STF form Ace! Fancy David Cross getting caught in this move, I mean, the name of the move is a CROSS STF, and his name is David CROSS, you see? It’s just too delicious…” Riley prattles, enjoying the irony a little too much. The current champion shakes his head wildly, refusing to show signs of weakness, but the more Lezaire leans back in the hold, the more pressure his knee is under, causing the pain to intensify tenfold. The crowd are on their feet, sensing that the sniveling rat may actually have the match won, but from the corner of his eye, Ace sees something, a boot, going fast and straight for his- *BAM!* -face! Levy rears back and boots the Canadian square in the face, causing to lose the Facelock and fly backward, causing even more pain for Cross! The torture isn’t over yet, however, as Levy mounts on top of both Ace and Cross, sitting on Lezaire’s back and taking him around neck with a Reverse Face Lock, better known as the Dragon Clutch! Now both Cross AND Lezaire are feeling the pinch as Levy nods his head, admiring his own handiwork. “What ingenuity shown by young Citizen Levy!” Comet admires, as the fans stand in unison and applaud the amazing sight in the centre of the ring. “He has both his opponents in a precarious position, doing untold damage to both!” “Now THIS is underhanded, Comet. I tell you, Hallucinogens should be banned in wrestling, I mean, look at the crazy and downright dangerous ideas they’re giving Levy!” Just as the fans reach orgasmic heights, Nick Soapdish is forced to interfere, telling Levy to break the hold or be disqualified. The Poet argues the “Man’s” rules, but ultimately let’s go of the hold, allowing Lezaire and Cross to untangle and lick their wounds. Ace won’t get off that easy, though, as Levy brings him to his feet, driving the air out of him with Martial Arts strikes to the body, forcing Ace into the corner. A single bitch slap pops the crowd, before Bryan sends Ace across the ring, following him in close pursuit… … But Lezaire, cunning as always, places his hands on the top rope and vaults over the top of Levy as he charges in for the kill. Ace flies over the top of Levy and lands on his feet, but Bryan is lightning fast as he shoots a Superkick, aiming for Lezaire’s jaw. Ace proves he can match Levy in the speed department, at least for now, as he ducks underneath the swift blow, taking advantage of the situation as Levy as his back to him, lifting him up into the air for a Back Drop! Ace, always looking to wow the crowd, spins Levy around, but the fans are none to happy. That all changes when Levy throws his right leg over Lezaire’s shoulder, beginning to flip himself over in mid-air, before hooking his left leg around Ace’s neck and snapping him over with a modified Hurricanrana! The fans pop for the outrageous and dazzling move, which puts a big smile on comet’s face, “LEVY’S WINDWILL! This man has simply amazing skills, Robert! And the fans love him for it, as much as they love seeing Citizen Lezaire getting the snot kicked out of him!” “Oh har, har…” Answers Riley, followed by a long groan. “He’s been lucky so far, damn lucky, Freak, but he’s pushing the envelope, and one day, his move will back fire, hopefully breaking his neck thus destroying his career so I’ll never have to see him ever, ever again.” “That’s a… tad morbid, Robert.” “It’s happened before.” Lezaire skips across the mat like a pebble across a lake, except there’s nothing to break his fall but the canvas. He finally comes to a stop, but Levy is on the scene in a flash, grabbing his legs and flipping over with a bridged pin for ONE! TWO! TTTHHRRRHR… …A two and a ½ count only! The fans sigh in disappointment, but Levy can see the pain etched on Ace’s face. His neck is hurting, and he plans to capitalize. Levy motions to his elbow, smacking it a few times before backing into the ropes, building up some momentum as Lezaire waits in the centre of the ring, an unwitting victim. Levy sprints across the mat, swinging his elbow out in a wide motion, but Ace somehow ducks underneath the blow! Levy growls, the Canadian’s counters getting on his nerves, but before he can swing back around to clobber Lezaire with an elbow smash, Ace goes downstairs with a kick! Soapdish glares at Lezaire, but the Canadian just shrugs his shoulders and plays innocent, before lifting the Poet high into the air with a vertical Suplex. “He’s got him up, Freak, and the only way to go is down for the three count,” Riley boldly predicts, rooting for his boy. “A picture perfect Suplex attempt, letting the blood rush to Levy’s head… letting Levy grab him around the neck… letting him fall gently… back down on his feet…” “…Oh, Christ.” Mutters Riley as Levy clamps down around Lezaire’s neck, falling down harmlessly behind him! Levy reaches back, grabbing Ace’s head in a vice, before leaping high into the air, kicking his legs out to increase the momentum coming down, and the subsequent neck snappage… … But Cross puts a spanner in the works, grabbing Levy by the ankles, letting them rest on his shoulder. The crowd gasps as Cross attempts to pull Levy up for a Powerbomb, but the Poet simply twists his entire body like a corkscrew, sending both Cross and Lezaire crashing to the mat! “Now THAT is style!” admires Comet. “For a man his size, he possesses an amazing amount of agility, just as Edwin MacPhisto once did.” Levy, knowing too well he doesn’t have to pin the champion, turns Lezaire over, pushing his arm into his chest ONE! TWO! THHHRRREEEEE… But a timely shoulder off the mat saves Lezaire from certain fate! Levy frets not, however, simply turning to Cross’ prone body and hooking him by the leg for ONE! TWO! TTTHHHHHH… Only a two count! The fans are disappointed, but applaud Levy’s quick thinking. Now, with the obvious upper hand in the contest, Levy reaches down to grab the lowly Canadian, but Ace does the smart thing and rolls out of the ring, leaving Cross for Levy’s drug-induced schemes. The Poet scrapes Cross’ carcass off the canvas, bringing him to his feet slowly, and attempting to whip him into the strands… … But Cross has other ideas, reversing the whip, and then again for a second time, nailing Levy across the jaw with a short-arm LARIATOOOOOOO much to the crowd’s delight! *THWACK!* CROSS! CROSS! CROSS! CROSS! “Cross finally does something I agree with; punking out a god damn hippy,” Riley says, a sickly satisfied grin on his face. “Well while you take an unhealthy fascination with Citizen Levy’s demise, the fans are on their feet, cheering for the champion as he executes a beautiful move!” Comet replies. “Levy took a second too long, and Cross shows exactly why he holds the USJL title, taking out his challenger in brutal yet Justice-like fashion!” Cross takes a second or two to recover, exerting a lot of energy for that move, and hurting his knee in the process, but he soldiers on, covering Levy as Soapdish slides over and counts ONE! TWO! TTHHRREEEE… …But Levy kicks out! Cross shakes his head and closes his eyes, cursing himself, but still the match continues. Cross climbs to his feet, bringing Levy with him, looking to whip him into the ropes, but Levy reverses it, sending Cross bounding into the ropes. The crowd waits anxiously as he returns, but as he does, Levy moves out to the side, taking Cross down by the right leg with a Drop Toe Hold, planting him face first on the mat. Cross grunts but knows he has to get up, but before he can, Levy grabs him around the waist, trying to lift him up for a German Suplex! “Citizen Cross is hurting, there’s no doubt about that,” Comet says, worryingly, “but he won’t give up yet, not when he’s put his heart into the title, and not when these people believe in him, not when I do!” Indeed, Cross is fighting on, bracing himself as he puts his left leg forward suddenly to prevent Levy from lifting him. Levy tries once again but to no avail as Cross reaches forward, grabbing the ropes! “Oh, cut the maudlin crap, Freak,” Riley answers in disgust. “We all know neither Cross OR Levy will be the champion when this night has ended. I mean, look, Ace is back up on the apron, no doubt formulating some brilliant plan.” Ace pulls himself up onto the ring apron, right in front of Cross, who remains defiant, while Levy links his arms together, but it’s another futile attempt. Lezaire vaults over the top rope, over Cross, and Levy, all the way to the centre of the ring, where he reaches underneath Levy, pulling him over in a school boy… …and as he does, Cross grip gives way, and as Levy is pulled to the mat for the pin, he lifts Cross up and over… *WHAM!* …NAILING him with a German Suplex! “OH MY!” is all Comet can utter. “Levy couldn’t get Cross to go until Lezaire came into help! That was incredible!” “What did I tell you Comet, huh? A MASTER stroke by Lezaire as both men are now being pinned.” ONE! TWO! THHHHRRRRRREEEEEEEE… NO! Both Levy and Cross kick out, and despite the crowd’s ill will towards Lezaire, they applaud the amazing sequence of moves. They soon begin to jeer again as Ace is first back up on his feet, followed by Levy, who immediately spins around to meet Lezaire. Ace gambles his luck, kicking Bryan in the gut and twisting around, taking Levy around the head! “ACE CRUSHER!” Rile delightfully screams. “Get it, Ace - Crusher? Huh, huh?” …But the move is countered! Levy pushes Lezaire forward into the strands, then waiting for his return with a wink and a smile, and the fans chanting his name. LE – VY! LE – VY! LE – VY! LE – VY! Bryan knows he won’t disappoint, because he has the perfect finish in mind; a Third Eye Driver right in the centre of the ring, signaling it with a cross, which sends the fans crazy. His plans are foiled by a slippery Canadian who grabs onto the ropes to save himself! Levy shakes his head and runs towards Ace, but he sent hurtling backward by a springboard dropkick from Lezaire! Levy is stunned and spun around, straight into David Cross’ waiting grasp. Cross shoves Levy into a standing headscissors, raising his arm to the fans… “He’s going to end it! Citizen Cross is going to retain if he hits the Black Mass!” Comet repeats again and again, on his feet. The big man kisses his Cross around his neck before lifting Levy into the air and onto his shoulders before his knee knows what’s happening. Almost instantly, as Levy reaches the apex, he comes down… *BAM!* … DRIVEN into the mat with the Black Mass, a lethal Spinebuster! “This sickens me, it really does. Lezaire deserves the credit here, this is an injustice…” “It’s fair justice, Robert! Citizen Cross is about to become victorious and… Wait! Wait just a second, Lezaire is making his move! The dastardly criminal is attacking from behind!” The Canadian picks his spot perfectly, bringing Cross to his knees as he aims a Stavat kick to Cross’ injured joint! His knee buckles, leaving him in perfect position as Ace grabs both his arms, pushing him down to the mat and grinding his face into the canvas… The crowd watches on helplessly as Ace flips over into a bridge, locking on the CATTLE MUTILATION! “This just can’t be!” Comet cries. “That’s…” “Perfection or Vanity?” Riley cockily responds. “Perfection, freak. Absolute perfection.” With Levy knocked out cold next to the two men, the crowd do all they can to help Cross summon up enough will to fight on, but Lezaire is merciless, seeing victory in sight and gold around his waist already. …But Cross won’t give in, trying to contort his body left and right, trying to counter the move in any way possible, but Lezaire tightens his grip around Cross’ arms, holding him perfectly in place. Cross can’t see the ropes, his face buried in the canvas, his neck and spine compacting, until… … DING! DING! DING! “THAT’S IT!” Shouts Riley joyfully. “Cross gives up in the Cattle Mutilation, and we have a new champion!” Lezaire lets go of the hold, quickly escaping, holding his neck while the fans hurl abuse at him from all corners of the arena, but their worse fears are confirmed as Soapdish raises Ace’s arm into the air, and Funyon announces… “Here is your winner… and the NEW! S W F United States Junior League Champion… ACE LEZAAIIIIRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” The Canadian high tails it up the ramp, barely even celebrating as both Levy and Cross begin to stir. Once Ace reaches the top of the ramp and turns around, looking out amongst the sea of fans, does he realize what’s happened. A satisfied grin breaks out across his face as he looks at his newly one title, and David Cross stares back at him. The Champion for justice is stunned. “This can’t be… this isn’t how… this is…” “Perfect? Yes, I agree. Ace Lezaire finally captures SWF gold at the expense of David Cross, and boy, I’m ready to party.” The show fades to a commercial, showing Lezaire’s smug Canadian grin on his face, and the USJL title around his waist…

"... so then he says," chimes in the voice of Robert Riley, "now I know why they call them skittles!" "That's terrible, Robert. I don't think I've ever been this offended by a joke in my life!" Squeals Cyclone Comet. "How about that one I told you about the" Riley is suddenly cut off by the overly enthusiastic Comet, who has realized that they are back on the air! "Welcome back to SWF Storm, citizens!" Booms the voice of Cyclone Comet. "We're approaching the halfway point of another great show with two matches already in the books and five more to look ahead to! We've already watched members of the Urban Empire take on members of Revolution Zero in singles action, and they've got quite the heated rivalry forming, eh Riley?" "Rivalry? I'd classify it as more of a slaughter!" Riley shoots back. "I think the teams have been pretty evenly matched so far, but let me guess. You think Toxxic's Revolution Zero has been dominating the team of Mike Van Siclen, Todd Cortez, and The Masked Man?" "I never said that! Oh! It's a shoot!" Riley yells out, "Oh! Oh!" "Shush Robert, show some professionalism for once!" Comet quiets his partner, "moving right along, our next match features Andrea Montgomery making a return appearance of sorts after being curiously absent for a few shows against Austin Sly, who has been on a losing streak of sorts ever since he lost his Cruiserweight title." "A losing streak of epic proportions is more like it, winning only one of his last five matches! He's not only losing in the ring though; he's losing in life too. In fact, I have no interest in this match at all except for watching Andrea and Austin kick the crap out of each other, and they probably wont be able to even do that right!" "You shouldn't be so hard on them. It's not like you were always a stud in the ring." Comet tries to bust down his partner's ego. "Heh... you said hard-on." Riley responds. "Ugh... Riley. Try and show a bit of maturity." "As if you're one to talk about maturity mister, every show you come out here and..." BOOM! Without warning, an explosion of green pyros around the entrance stage causing the fans in the arena to start a frenzied cheer as they climb to their feet! The lights in the arena quickly change to green bathing the entire arena in the color. No Doubt's "Just a Girl" begins to play as Andrea Montgomery walks out from behind the curtain. She salutes her fans as Funyon makes the announcement. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the following match is a singles match and is scheduled for one fall! Making her way to the ring first from Biloxi, Mississippi, weighing in at one hundred and forty-three pounds, Andrea Montgomery!!" Andrea steps through a shower of greens sparks and begins her walk down the ramp towards the ring. She walks from one side of the ramp to the other slapping hands with all of her adoring fans that reach out towards her. One woman with a seat close to ringside calls out to Andrea and asks for a picture. Andrea cheerfully obliges until the woman picks up the baby that she has brought with her to the show and half-heartedly hands it to Andrea. She bobbles the kid a few times as the mother quickly snaps a picture of this baby juggling event. Andrea smiles and hands the little bundle of joy back to its mother before proceeding to the ring. She jumps onto the ring apron and then uses the ropes to launch herself into the ring. "What a great representative of our sport! Citizen Montgomery is the type of person I wouldn't mind the children of the world looking up to." Comet gleefully announces. "She almost dropped that baby! We could've had a lawsuit on our hands thanks to her! Now as I was saying before," Riley, always the downer, says before being interrupted again. The lights in the arena fade to a dark, cooling shade of blue while a acoustic guitar playing a hard-driving riff floats out into the air of the arena. The fans stay on their feet and give Austin Sly a slightly mixed reaction as he steps out onto the stage from the back of the arena. The house lights begin to swirl while Austin does his pre-match stretches at the edge of the stage. Funyon announces his arrival. "Making his way to the ring from St. Louis, Missouri weighing in at two hundred and thirty-five pounds, Austin Sly!!" Austin slaps hands with a few fans as he makes his way down the ramp. Once at ringside, he jumps up onto the ring apron and hooks his arm across the top rope. He looks out over the crowd, scanning above the crowd in an effort not to break his concentration for the match at hand. He shoots his head back around as he enters between the middle ropes. Austin quickly charges towards Andrea, but extends his hand in a show of sportsmanship simply wanting a pre-match handshake. Andrea gratefully accepts, and the fans give a nice little cheer for the show of decency. "What a bunch of crap this is! If you're not going to fight, then get out of the ring and let someone else entertain me!" Riley complains. "Now as I was saying..." "I think it's great to show a little sportsmanship and equal respect Bobbo! This is the kind of thing that we need more of in our sport!" Comet interrupts. "Would you let me finish what I wa" "This is sure to be a fast paced match too, with two of the quickest competitors in the SWF inside of the ring." Comet interrupts again. "Damnit! I give up! You can announce this one by yourself, masked blunder!" "Exxxcellent." Comet murmurs. Funyon slides out of the ring as referee-in-training David Blazenwing casually explains the match rules to both Andrea Montgomery and Austin Sly. The two are very attentive to the stripe-less referee, as they both secretly mumble to each other. Discouraged, Blazenwing calls for the bell to start the match. Ding ding ding!!! Both Andrea and Austin stand in the middle of the ring, and just smirk at Blazenwing who seems somewhat uncomfortable refereeing his first match. David encourages them both to lock up, but they have other plans as Andrea grabs Austin by the hand and whips him across the ring. Sly bounces casually off the ropes and comes charging back... ... at Blazenwing. Wham! David goes down in a heap after the "accidental" encounter with the brunt force of Austin's weight. A slight chuckle comes from the audience, as Andrea and Austin share a high five. "That wasn't very sportsman-like of them, was it Comet?" hisses Riley. "I thought you were going to stay shut-up, Riley," fires back Comet. The duo quickly get down to business though as they lock up. Andrea, obviously out-sized and over-powered, panics slightly and kicks Austin's legs out from under him with a Russian Leg Sweep in order to break the hold. Sly quickly rolls over to climb back up to his feet, but Andrea locks onto him from behind with a face lock trying to keep the bigger man down. Austin just powers out of the hold though, flipping Andrea over his back and in front of him while he climbs to his feet. Montgomery lands on her feet and quickly gathers back her balance enough to send a spinning heel kick soaring towards Austin's face, but the former Cruiserweight Champion is quick enough to duck under it. With a clear shot at Andrea's back, Austin decides against going for a big move and instead just shoves Andrea away towards the ropes. The lightning quick Montgomery jumps onto the middle board and springboards back at Austin with a moonsault, only to find no one home. The ever agile Andrea lands squarely on her feet though, only to be dragged down to the mat with an armbar from Austin. Andrea just rolls through the hold though, breaking it quickly. Both competitors climb back to their feet, breathing a little heavier than they were only a few moments ago. The fans in the arena climb back to their feet and reward the two of them with another ovation for the effort they've already put into the match. "Both citizens seem fairly evenly matched so far, and the fans love it!" Announces the exuberant Comet. "What do you think Riley?" "..." "Good to hear!" Comet says with a smile. Both Andrea and Austin look around the arena, absorbing the cheers from the fans before turning their attention back to one another. With no other way to settle this deadlocked match, both competitors stick out their fists. One, two, three, shoot! Andrea puts her hand out flat while Austin keeps his hand in a fist. They're playing paper-rock-scissors, and it would appear that Andrea has won the first match! Austin looks a little frustrated, but quickly puts his fist back out in front of him. Andrea follows suit quickly. One, two, three, shoot! Once again Andrea shoots her hand out flat again, but this time Austin puts his hand out flat also drawing a tie in the second match! "What are they doing?! This is supposed to be a wrestling match! They're playing paper-rock-scissors in the middle of an SWF ring!" yells a disgusted Riley. "The fans didn't come to see this shit, they came to see two people beat the hell out of each other!" "They seem to be enjoying it just fine to me, Riley!" Comet notes. "Not only that, but the two citizens in the ring seem to be enjoying themselves as well!" "No one cares if the wrestlers enjoy it! They're being paid to put on a show, not to make a mockery of this federation!" Austin and Andrea both stick their fists out again preparing for the third and final match. A hushed awe fills the arena as the two competitors lock stares. A single drop of sweat rolls down from Austin's forehead before barreling down his cheek and eventually down to the canvas bellow. One, two, three, shoot! Scissors cut paper. Andrea defeats Austin in paper-rock-scissors and, accordingly so, gets to pin Austin to the mat. Sly lays on his mat and allows Montgomery to pin him, but somehow through all this time, Blazenwing is still down and out on the mat. Andrea climbs back off of Austin to go check on the fallen referee, while Austin pretends to pull a cigarette from his boot and promptly light it while still relaxing back on the mat. He feigns smoking for a few seconds before climbing back to his and flicking the fake cigarette free from the ring. "Austin was just going to lay down for Andrea because she beat him in a child's game? I'm not only disappointed, but also disgusted by this display!" Riley spews with hate, "after this match, I hope that Zenon has a word with both competitors as to what is acceptable behavior inside the ring!" "Lighten up! Try and enjoy something besides yourself for once, Riley." "Was that a masturbation joke, Comet?" "Woah woah woah! I never said such a thing!" Comet pauses, "guilty conscience?" Austin casually taps Andrea on the shoulder drawing her attention away from Blazenwing, who has finally began to regain his bearing, and back to the match at hand. As she turns around, Andrea quickly ducks under a wild punch thrown by Austin before delivering a quick kick into his side! Andrea reels back and sends another spinning heel kick flying at Austin's face, only to have him duck out of the way again. She does make solid contact with the side of Blazenwing's head, since he was standing right behind Austin at the time! Spit flies out of the side of his mouth before he drops like a rock back to the canvas. Andrea looks at Blazenwing for a second, but she's literally pulled back into the match when Austin irish whips her across the ring. Instead of bouncing off the ropes, she quickly slides out of the ring beneath the bottom rope! Austin charges over and also slides out of the ring, but Andrea re-enters at the same time. Sly looks around confused on the outside of the ring, while Andrea stands beside the ropes inside the ring. Once she's recaptured Austin's attention, Montgomery quickly sends her body flying over the top rope with a bodypress towards Austin! "He caught her! He caught Citizen Montgomery out of the air!" Comet yells out. "He caught her? How can that be? Austin isn't big enough to catch someone like that!" Riley says, shocked. Austin has indeed caught Andrea, but not easily as he stumbles back with her in his arms! He leans against the fan barrier with her in his arms as he attempts to lift her up into maybe a torture rack or some other sort of hold, no one really knows what he's doing here. We don't get to wait around to see either, as Andrea fights her way out by pushing off of the fan barrier and using the momentum to swing Austin around in a Tornado DDT! Austin bounces off the mat in a sickly manor, causing a few gasps from the crowd. Andrea, for some reason, goes to search underneath the ring for something. "What's she doing underneath there? This isn't a hardcore match! Did the Biloxi school system not teach her to read?" Riley complains. "Maybe she's searching for a neck brace for Citizen Sly after the awful angle his neck just took against the unforgiving ground on the outside of the ring?" Comet says, rather optimistic. A neck brace, while being a good guess, is completely wrong. Andrea instead pulls out a ladder and quickly sets it up right beside the ring. It's a rather tall ladder, as it stretches up above the ring ropes by probably two or three feet. Andrea doesn't get a chance to use it though as Austin recovers from his drop and rolls Andrea back into the ring. Sly, however, jumps up onto the ring apron and then again onto the top of the ropes. He springboards off and tries to level Andrea with a clothesline. Andrea just ducks underneath it and instead drops Austin to the mat with a neckbreaker! Sly grabs at his neck to try and protect it as it has obviously started hurting him. Andrea takes off running for the other side of the ring, this time bouncing off of the ropes. She handsprings into a Phoenix Splash, landing square on the chest of her opponent! Andrea quickly covers her opponent, as Blazenwing crawls to their side to make the count. One! ... Two! ........ Kickout! Austin gets himself off the mat just presumably before Blazenwing's hand should've hit the mat. Of course, that's assuming that he was a good referee and that he hadn't taken such a beating. But that's a couple of big assumptions, you know? "Citizen Montgomery almost had the match won there!" Comet squeals. "Yeah, how exciting." Riley moans as he trims his fingernails. Andrea quickly pulls Austin back up to his feet before firing him across the ring. Austin bounces off the ropes and out of desperation tries to spear Andrea, but instead only connects with Blazenwing! Andrea shares a good laugh with Austin before Austin turns and spears her, absolutely flattening Andrea and leaving her down on the mat without much sign of getting up anytime soon. Austin stumbles a little, shaking a bit of the match's punishment free from his head as a small cheer comes up from the audience. He looks around the arena, drawing in the attention from the fans, before spotting the ladder still standing outside of the ring. A smile creeps across his face as he locks his sight on it. "Oh no, what does he have planned here?" Riley ponders. "There should be some way to remind these wrestlers of what exactly the rules of this match are! Oh wait, thats what referees are for!" "... and Citizen Blazenwing looks like he's slowly recovering from everything that's happened to him tonight. Maybe he can regain control of this match after all!" Comet says with optimism. Austin casually makes his way away from Andrea and out of the ring beside the ladder. More cheers raise from the audience as Austin reaches the base of the ladder, then takes his first step onto it. He slowly makes his climb to the top before standing on the top step and letting a slight wiggle out as he attempts to keep his balance. He looks out over the crowd one last time as they've all climbed to their feet to cheer him on for his ability to throw safety to the wing. He gathers his balance one last time before extending his body fully erect... "Erect... heh." mumbles Riley. ... and launching himself off the ladder. He twists backwards in air as he goes all the way down to the mat below with a Shooting Star Press off the top of the ladder! He lands directly on top of Andrea, causing the two to bounce off of the canvas under the force of the move. A small "Ho-lee shit" chant rises from the audience, showing some support for the risk that the man just took. Austin sits up and holds his ribs for a moment before falling back on top of Andrea for the cover. Blazenwing slowly stumbles to his feet only to fall back down beside the duo to count the pin! One! Two! Three! Ding ding ding! Austin sits up and rubs his eyes in disbelief as Blazenwing raises his hand in victory. The fans stand and cheer for a great match put forward by both competitors, but especially the man who has came out on top, Austin Sly! "Citizen Sly has won! He's broken his losing streak and finally chocked another one into the winning column! After a horrible August, what a way to kick in September with a bang!" "Shesh, Comet. You act like this is some substantial victory. He just beat Andrea Montgomery. Not the most substantial victory in the world." Riley tries to rain on everyone's parade. "A victory is a victory, none-the-less, and I bet it means something to him no matter who it came over! Andrea put up a great fight tonight, but it was just not meant to be!" Comet puts a positive spin back on things. Austin walks around the ring with his arms raised, absorbing his first victory in which the fans actually cheered for him instead of booing him out of the ring. Andrea slowly rises to her feet, having been defeated, and promptly makes her way towards exiting the ring. But she instead finds a hand on her shoulder from Austin Sly, who is trying to prevent her early exit. Without hesitation, he grabs her hand and raises it in the air in a sign of respect and admiration for a match well done. The two stand in the ring absorbing the cheers from the fans as Storm goes to commercial break.

The next match was cancelled because I WAS PLAYING WORLD OF WARCRAFT BIZMODATCHES

As we come back to SWF Storm, the camera fades into the backstage of the Joe. Various boxes of equipment and large cable cords run along the floor as the camera stays in place, filming the empty spot. “So, do you have a guy?” the easily recognizable voice of the Suicide King is heard, and the camera quickly pans to the left, showing the length of the hallway, in which King and William Hearford are conversing. The crowd pops HUGE at the hometown boy, and especially now that he’s a face. It’d probably bring a smile to the old man’s face if he could hear it; sadly, though, his visage is straining to keep in a scowl as he faces down King. It’s obvious that he’s still very angry after the executive decision last week. “Yes, yes I do,” he responds with strained politeness, “His name is Markel. Brian Markel. He’s got a lot of talent and I’m sure he’ll be much better than Justin was.” King looks around for a moment confused. “Well, where is he?” “He’s coming in from out of state, actually. He couldn’t make it on such short notice, but I assure you he’ll be here at the next show.” “Judge… Judge…” King starts, shaking his head, “You know, I wanted you to actually bring a guy out here. I mean, seriously, if I can’t see this guy, you’re wasting my time.” “But I swear he’ll be here next show! He’s in Kentucky right now and…” and at that point, Judge just gives up: He knows King well enough that he won’t cut people any slack. The crowd boos vigorously, and it looks like Judge’s very brief second tenure is about to end just as suddenly as it started. “But… you were probably one the most loyal guys I had when I was commissioner. I swear, if you hadn’t been in fighting Tom at Genesis, you’d have been fighting for me instead of that failure, Craven. So I’ll let you go, but he’d better not be as injury prone as that last flunkie of yours.” With that, King walks off down the hallways, with Hearford still sweating bullets after dodging a big one as we… *FADE TO BLACK*

“A storm has descended upon the Joe Louis Arena in Detroit tonight, folks! Welcome back to SWF STORM~!” shouts an enthusiastic Cyclone Comet, greeting the viewers at home. “You’re absolutely right that a storm has touched down in D-town, Comet. We’ve got some major scores to be settled here tonight, starting with our opening contest!” “For once, Bobbo, I’m in agreement. The feud between the two upstart stables of Revolution Zero and the Urban Empire has reached a fever pitch. After a defeat at the hands of their foes in a six man tag earlier in the week, the members of Hollywood Boulevard are looking to turn the tide back to their stables favor, albeit in singles matches tonight. We’re gonna kick things off with one of those matches RIGHT NOW, so take it away FUNYON~!” *DING*DING*DING* FUNYON LAAAAADIEEEEES AND GENNNTLLLLMENNNN…THIS is the opening contest here on SWF STOOOOOOORRRRRRMMMMM~! The Motor City crowd roars in approval, and then even louder as the Spanish horns boom through the speaker boxes, signifying the entrance of an SWF crowd favorite. I fetch my brazos hardcore down from the click-hi Who's that emanatin' funk through the speaker? Bass gets to pumpin' rucka's get to pumpin' Who's that rap king got the party start jumpin'? With “Tres Delinquentes” pulsing over the sound system, Todd Cortez steps out onto the ramp, drawing a loud pop from the fans welcoming him to Michigan! Cortez stands tall, his World Tag Team Title belt wrapped around his waist as he throws up the X…and then gets nailed from behind by Spike Jenkins, who jumps him at the entranceway! “Seems like Revolution Zero is trying to get a jump on things tonight, no pun intended!” Cortez rolls into the aisleway, but is pounced on as he gets to his feet by Jenkins. Spike leads him towards the guardrail, holding his head with one hand and the waistband of his pants with the other, and shoves him forward, ribs first into the railing! “Spike Jenkins couldn’t wait to lock horns with his rival, and immediately targets the bruised ribs of Cortez, which haven’t had a chance to heal since their match-up the other night!” “Sound strategy by Toxxic’s crew! They don’t have a former World Champion leading them for nothing!” Referee Jefferson Harding dives out of the ring, rushing up the aisleway and ordering Jenkins to back off and get into the ring, while a befuddled Funyon retreats to his ringside seat, unable to introduce either competitor. Jenkins rolls into the ring and taunts the crowd, drawing catcalls from the Detroit contingent. Harding assists Cortez as he gets to his feet, and Cortez quickly unstraps the tag belt, shoves it into Harding’s arms, and rushes the ring, sliding in and coming up face to face with Jenkins! Spike fires off a right hand, but it’s easily blocked, and Cortez unloads with rights of his own! Jenkins is thrown off balance and falls into the ropes, and Cortez immediately takes his arm and uses it to propel him to the far side, leaping into the air as Spike returns towards him and landing on his shoulders before carrying him over with a snap huracanrana! Cortez springs up to his feet immediately, waiting for Jenkins to pick himself up off the canvas…but Spike takes the high road and slithers out to the floor! “Well look at this! Seems like Citizen Jenkins isn’t too fond of face to face combat!” “What do you mean, Comet? He’s taking a breather!” “After sixty seconds of action?” ”What can I say, I’ve been telling him to increase his cardio workouts!” The crowd boos Spike’s cowardice, but he just waves his hands at the audience to show he could care less. Harding begins the count, but Cortez doesn’t want to wait for Spike’s return, so he heads out to the floor to retrieve him! Jenkins sees Cortez coming and runs around the corner, leading the Urban Legend on a wild goose chase! Jenkins quickly rolls back into the ring and gets up, waiting on Cortez to follow him. Todd slides in, and Jenkins approaches, figuring he’s suckered Cortez in…but he gets shot to the canvas with a double leg takedown from an expectant Cortez! Todd stands up, holding onto Spike’s right leg, and then starts kicking the back of his knee repeatedly, drawing cries of pain out of the Revolution Zero member! “He’s stomping on that knee like he’s putting out a fire, Comet!” “It would appear Citizen Jenkins isn’t the only one who is looking to exploit a nagging injury. We know Spike’s had knee trouble in the past, and it would seem he’s about to have more of it tonight!” Cortez backs up, and Spike sits up, favoring his leg, which distracts him from the basement dropkick that Cortez delivers to his chin, knocking Spike onto his back! Jenkins rolls onto his stomach and pushes himself up, getting an assist from Cortez, who then holds his right hand up, palm out… SMACK! …and brings it down across Spike’s chest! Jenkins starts to move away from Cortez, but Todd turns him to face him again, pushing his arms to his side to expose his chest… SMACK! …and connects with another open hand chop! Spike again tries to inch away from Cortez, but Todd shoots low and grabs Spike’s right ankle, pulling his right leg up and causing him to hop on one foot. Spike begs off, seeing as he’s got no place to go, and in desperation leaps up, swinging his left foot over with an enzugiri kick…but Cortez ducks! Spike crashes to the canvas, and Cortez immediately drops to his knees, trying to use them to pin Spike’s shoulders down to keep him still, drawing a pop from the fans who recognize this from Cortez’s match with Landon Maddix recently! “Citizen Cortez is trying to hook Spike in that same submission that brought him a victory over Maddix!” “That submission? That’s the best he could come up with for a name?” “Actually, I believe he’s taken to calling it The Hook-Up.” Cortez reaches back, trying to pull up Spike’s right leg, but Jenkins quickly crawls away, heading for the ropes and clutching onto them for dear life so that no holds can be applied. Todd approaches, itching to make Spike squeal, but Harding blocks his path, warning him that he needs to back up while Jenkins is in the ropes. Cortez puts his hands up in surrender, following along with the official’s instructions…then gets his face raked by Jenkins, who uses the distraction to his advantage! “Sheer brilliance! Harding played the unwilling accomplice, and now Spike Jenkins can take control!” Robert Riley proudly states. Cortez winces, and puts his hands over his face, seething after the cheap shot. Harding warns Jenkins of his infraction, but Spike continues to focus on Cortez, walking him over to the corner and driving him face first into the top turnbuckle. Spike spins Cortez around, keeping him backed up in the corner, and then starts ramming his shoulder into Todd’s ribs, continuing the assault that Revolution Zero began on the same body part nights ago! Cortez huffs after every shot, the air being driven out of his body as Jenkins carries out the attack. With the Urban Legend gasping for air, Spike takes him by the head and applies a facelock, hesitating for a moment to look out to the crowd and scowl at the fans rooting on Cortez, then lifts him suplex style, only to drop him stomach first across the top rope! “He hung him out to dry!” Cortez dangles on the top rope, finally shifting his weight so that his feet rest on the apron. He clutches the top rope to keep from falling to the floor below, and doesn’t see Spike approaching. Jenkins reaches over and tries to pull him in, but Cortez ducks and shoots a shoulderblock through the ropes, causing Spike to double over. Cortez slingshots in over his back, rolling him over with a sunset flip…but Spike reaches out, snags the top rope and prevents himself from going over before he jumps into the air and comes down onto Cortez with a vertical splash! “That’s what you call seizing the moment, Comet! Cortez tried to turn the tide, but Spike found that weakness of his again and exploited it for all it’s worth!” Cortez pushes his knees up to his stomach, holding his ribs and slowly tries to push himself up. Jenkins comes over and hooks his arms around Todd’s waist as he’s still doubled over, pulling him up with a gutwrench lift before dropping him forward, ribs first, onto his knee! Cortez falls off of Jenkins’ knee, and Spike probably wishes he didn’t do that, as when he stands there is a noticeable limp in his step, as he just brought the weight of Cortez down onto the same knee that Cortez had his sights on earlier in the match! Jenkins hobbles over to Cortez and lifts him up by the head…but Cortez shoots for Spike’s right leg, tugging him down onto the canvas and quickly wrapping his own legs around it! Spike squirms, but Cortez keeps the leg grapevined and pulls back on it, snaring Spike in a single leg lock! Jenkins flails his arms like a wounded bird flapping its wings, desperately trying to get his hand on a rope. Cortez keeps a firm grip on the former Cruiserweight champion, but Jenkins doesn’t give up his struggle, seeing that the bottom rope is just inches away from his reach! “Cortez again targets the knee with a submission, keeping Spike out of the air, and most importantly, away from his ribs!” “Spike tried to steal Todd’s food?” “Jeez, Bobbo…his RIBS! As in the bones in his body!” “Oh…well you never know. I thought you were talking about a food fight that got personal. Specify, Comet, specify!” Harding watches on as Jenkins grunts in pain, stretching his arms out to a full straight position. He reaches and reaches, his body inching slowly across the canvas…and finally Spike Jenkins finds relief as he snags the bottom rope, forcing Harding to tell Cortez to break the hold! Cortez lets go and backs away, standing across the ring as Spike is given the space to get to his feet. Jenkins braces himself against the ropes and massages his knee, telling a concerned Harding that he’s fine. Angered, Jenkins turns and starts limping into center ring, nodding his head to Cortez and telling him to bring it on. Cortez and Jenkins circle each other, and Todd fakes him out as he motions for the leg but then brings himself back to a fighting stance. Todd moves in again, but this time the two lock up, with Spike overpowering Cortez and clutching him in a side headlock. Cortez tries to wriggle free, eventually slipping out from under Spike’s arm and coming up behind him, then makes a play for the right leg! “Todd Cortez knows that going for that knee is the key to victory!” “So does that make him the Tonya Harding of the SWF?” He pulls it back, causing Spike to hop on one foot, but the quick thinking Jenkins jumps back and drives his left foot into Todd’s midsection with a mule kick! Cortez staggers back, but gathers himself quickly and moves forward, grabbing Spike by the back of the head, only to catch several elbows to his bread basket! Cortez huffs as each shot is driven into his ribs, and is then backed into the ropes, as Jenkins Irish whips him across the ring. Spike ducks for the rebound, allowing Cortez to leapfrog over him…but then Cortez leapfrogs back over him, landing in front of Spike with his back to him! Jenkins comes back up to a normal standing position, perplexed…then catches the instep of Cortez’s foot across his face, as Todd jumps backwards, swinging his right leg up and rocking Spike with a reverse enzugiri kick! Jenkins, unable to keep his balance after being knocked silly, falls back into the ropes, the momentum of which pushes him back to a vertical base…AND RIGHT INTO A SUPERKICK FROM TODD CORTEZ! COVER! “Amazing! That was some of that Crouching Dragon, Hidden Treasure type of stuff!” ONE! TWO! SHOULDER UP! The crowd sighs, as the crack of the superkick on Spike’s chin sounded like a sure knockout blow. Cortez rolls off of him, coming to his feet at the feet of Jenkins, and he reaches down, again looking to damage the right knee of Jenkins. Feeling Todd pawing at his leg, Jenkins is somewhat revived, and responds by kicking his legs at Cortez, not allowing him to trap them in his grasp. Cortez is kicked away, backed into the ropes, while Jenkins swings his legs around so that he’s on his knees, and charges up at Cortez, wrapping him in a waistlock before spinning around and dropping him throat first on the top rope! Todd whiplashes back to the canvas, while Jenkins falls to a seated position, still favoring that knee but now having bought himself some time! “The desperation move pays off, but you have to wonder for how long, since the weakened knee of Jenkins takes an awful lot of offense away from him.” “Don’t you worry, Comet. The Revolution always finds a way.” “Well if they find their way down here, Citizen Cortez will be the one walking away with the W, so I say bring them on!” Cortez rests on all fours, coughing and gagging after having the thick strand of rope driven into his windpipe. Jenkins hobbles over to him, standing over Cortez before reaching down and putting a hand under his chin, wrenching his head up. Cortez groans, still trying to catch his breath, but the only thing he catches is a forearm across the side of his face! Cortez drops his head, but Spike lifts it up, and again drives his forearm across Todd’s face! “He’s decimating him with these crossface shots!” Cortez tries to crawl away, out from under Spike’s legs, but Jenkins reaches down and brings him to his feet the hard way, leading him up by the back of the head. Spike sets up for a Russian legsweep, but Cortez quickly fires back an elbow to break! Todd turns around to go face to face with Spike, but Jenkins still has a good presence of mind and drops to one knee before stunning Cortez with a low blow! Cortez falls to his knees, and Harding berates Jenkins for the low-brow tactic, telling him that anything further will cost him this contest. Jenkins doesn’t bother with a response, instead keeping his focus on Cortez as he braces himself in a fighting stance… CRACK! …and delivers a hard roundhouse kick to Cortez’s chest! Cortez falls over, catching himself with one hand, but Jenkins reaches down and shoves him back up. Shaking the effects his own kick had on his knee, Jenkins winds up again… CRACK! …and drives the instep of his foot into Todd’s sternum once again! The force behind the kick lingers, however, and Spike hobbles near the ropes, wincing in pain. Agitated that he can’t comfortably execute one of his signature maneuvers, Spike retrieves Cortez from the canvas and drags him up, sticking him in the corner and then climbing up to the second rope. Looking down into the eyes of his rival, Spike raises a hand to him, and starts delivering hard slaps across Cortez’s face in taunting fashion! “I don’t think this is the time for Spike’s ego to be taking over!” Jenkins backs down slowly, stepping down to the canvas as his foe reels in the corner. Jenkins leads him out by the arm and sends him to the far corner, watching with glee as Cortez rams hard into the turnbuckles and then slumps in the corner. Spike gears himself up, running in place before barging out of the corner, his teeth grinding together as he contains the pain he feels in his knee as he goes for the TIDAL WAVE~!… …but his knee buckles after the handspring! “Spike took a gamble, and crapped out!” “Newsflash, Comet. Cortez isn’t in a casino brawl tonight. No need for wit! A man’s knee is hurt!’ Jenkins falls to one knee immediately, drawing Harding over to check on him. Spike assure the referee that he’s willing to continue, but the brief conversation has given Todd Cortez time to recover. The fans that flocked to the Joe Louis Arena tonight are rabid with glee as Cortez hops up onto the second rope, anticipating his opponents next move. Spike gets up and turns around, but has no time to react as Cortez comes off the second rope, hooking Spike in a front facelock as he comes down to the canvas with a DD… …NO! SPIKE JENKINS COUNTERS WITH AN INVERTED ATOMIC DROP AS CORTEZ LANDS~! Jenkins nearly falls backwards, another move countered although it did his knee no favors. Cortez is doubled over, and Jenkins shuffles towards him and reaches up, applying a ¾ front facelock and…NO! Cortez deflects the Bad Beat attempt, shoving Jenkins away…then surprises him with an STO out of nowhere! Both men lay on the mat, wounded and exhausted, while Harding stands back, waiting for their next move…which is a pin attempt by Cortez! A leg is hooked, and Harding makes the count… ONE! TWO! THR…NO! KICKOUT BY JENKINS! The crowd groans at the two count, hoping that the disliked Jenkins was down for good. Cortez continues on, emotionless as it pertains to the near fall, and drags Spike away from the ropes by his leg. Cortez reaches down, again attempting a submission, but the weary Spike reaches up and pulls Cortez down, cradling him with a small package! ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! A sigh of relief falls over the Motor City faithful, as Cortez breaks free of the pin attempt. Jenkins tries to bring himself up first, but can’t do so without the help of his opponent, who takes him by the back of the head and walks him over to the turnbuckles. He sends Spike’s head crashing into the top turnbuckle, but Spike lifts his leg up onto the middle one, putting the brakes on…and Cortez responds by kicking the back of the exposed leg, garnering him a huge pop! “It seems the less Spike tries to use that leg, the more Cortez has been able to attack it. Find a weakness and exploit it. It’s the art of war.” “They don’t pay you to philosophize, Comet. They pay you to commentate wrestling matches.” “They also don’t pay me to hear about your wild nights in the red light district of whatever city we may be in, but I have to do that too, don’t I?” “Don’t act like you don’t like it. You could learn something from a guy like me.” “Robert, what I HAVE learned from you scares me. Let’s focus on the match at hand, OK?” Spike limps away, moving across the ring and away from Cortez. Todd stalks him like a game hunter does to its prey, following him around the ring and forcing Spike to hide behind referee Harding! Our friend Jefferson tries to pull himself away, but Jenkins tugs on his striped shirt, using him as a human shield as Cortez tries to get at him. Cortez inches closer, and Jenkins swats his hand over Harding’s shoulder…but has his wrist caught by Todd Cortez! Harding is now stuck in the middle of the two warriors, and as Jenkins brings his other hand around to try to free himself, Cortez clutches that too. The three men dance around the ring in a rather odd looking position as they’re sandwiched together, until Cortez yells “Duck!” to Harding. The referee drops to his knees, and Cortez, still holding Jenkins by the wrist, leaps high into the air, plants his feet into Spike’s sternum, and takes him over with a monkey flip, freeing Harding from the akward situation! “That was…interesting.” “It was more than interesting. I’d go so far as to say it was…” “Keep it to yourself, Riley.” Harding dusts himself off, and the crowd applauds wildly, finding humor in Spike’s cowardice. Hollywood sits up and shakes the cobwebs off, but again finds himself pried away from his rest period by Cortez, who holds him by the arm. Jenkins is backed into the ropes, and Cortez sends him in…reversal…reversed again, and Jenkins takes the whip to the ropes as originally intended! He rebounds, and Cortez leaps up, snapping him over with a hura…COUNTERED WITH A SITOUT POWERBOMB BY JENKINS~! Harding slides to the canvas like a runner stealing home, and makes the count! ONE! TWO! THRE…KICKOUT! Jenkins is frustrated, but rolls to his feet, hoping that this will keep Cortez at bay. Todd tries to get up, but doesn’t do it without a little help from his friend Spike, who follows up with a pair of European uppercuts that send him staggering back into the corner! Jenkins piefaces Cortez, then backs up and goes to drive his shoulder into the Latin American’s bruised ribs…but Cortez pushes himself up onto the ropes and carries himself over Spike’s back, pulling him down with a sunset flip…NO! Spike rolls through to his feet, and comes at Cortez with a roundhouse kick…CAUGHT! Spike begs off as Cortez gets to his feet, holding Spike’s right leg…and he drops it!? THEN SPIKE GETS HIS THROAT SNATCHED BY THE URBAN LEGEND! “Urban Assault coming up!” The crowd roars, as Cortez readies to lift Spike up for his patented mauever…but Jenkins nervously elbows at Cortez, trying to counter! He manages to drive Cortez away, and then comes at him with an STO…but Cortez tries for the same move! Both men stand firm, their legs interwined with one another’s as they each try to force the other down onto their back…until Spike spins off to the side, and wraps his arm up around Todd’s head…BAD BEAT…NO! Spike gets shoved into the ropes…AND PLANTED WITH A SITOUT SPINEBUSTER ON THE REBOUND~! “Citizen Jenkins got planted like seedlings on Earth Day!” Cortez rolls to his feet, his eyes gleaming with determination to end this NOW. He rolls Jenkins onto his back, and drags his fallen carcass into the center of the ring before kneeling down, driving his knees down into Jenkins’ shoulder blades. Spike squirms, but is too weakened to fight, as Cortez reaches back, pulls the right leg up, and bends it over his shoulder! “The Hook-Up! This is what we were talking about! The move that got Cortez that big win over Landon Maddix!” Spike bellows out a painful cry, but the fans couldn’t be happier watching him trapped like this! Harding watches on as Cortez pulls down on the leg, causing ligaments to stretch and tear within Spike’s right leg. Jenkins struggles, but the more he fights it, the more Cortez applies more pressure. “Jenkins is in a bad way, and Toxxic and his crew can only sit in the back and watch!” “Well, that’s no thanks to the unfair stipulation that Spike must deal with!” “Unfair? It applies to Citizen Cortez too!” “That’s besides the point!” Harding watches on, asking Jenkins every so often if he’s ready to give. The crowd sits wide-eyed, anticipating Jenkins to surrender at any second, as no one can help him and there is no way out. Cortez pulls down hard on the leg, any further and he’ll snap it in two…and when Harding asks again, Spike nods his head rapidly, almost begging him to ring the bell! *DING*DING*DING* “Chalk one up for the Empire! Cortez walks out of here with a victory, while Spike…well I don’t think he’ll be walking out of here!” ”Oh very funny. Who are you, Dave Chappelle?” “Tres Delinquentes” kicks up as Cortez gets to his feet and has his hand raised by Jefferson Harding. Spike rolls onto his back, holding his knee in agony, a defeated man. FUNYON LAAAAAAAAAAAAAADIEEEEEEEEEEESSS AND GENNNNTLLLLMENNNNN, YOUR WINNER…TODDDDDDDDDDD CORRRRRRRRRTEZZZZZZZZZZZZ~! The crowd shows their happiness for Cortez as he climbs up onto the second rope, raising his hands up in salute to the supporters of the Urban Empire, then steps down. He eyes Jenkins, giving him a smug smirk as he watches him wallow in pain on the canvas. Cortez ducks out of the ring and swipes his tag belt from the timekeeper’s table, slapping a few hands on his way around the ring and to the aisleway. He turns, taking one look back at Jenkins, and smiles to himself before turning and heading up the ramp. “Part one of the two match saga between the Urban Empire and Revolution Zero ends on a high note for the Todd Cortez and the Urban Empire. We’re back with the second chapter in tonight’s edition of their rivalry, as Mike Van Siclen does battle with Sean Davis when Storm returns!”

HAHAHAHA TOO MUCH FUN Detailed analysis to come later.

Saying that the DC and PS2 versions are near identical is ignorance and blasphemy, and you should be beaten for saying so. For one, the PS2 has kara cancel throws.

Actually it's nothing like the DC version. It's more like the arcade version, save for an Urien glitch with the Aegis.

Yahoo! Towers is pretty good.

I just remembered Suicide killing himself. Does that count anywhere?

No, seriously. I had no idea what the heck was going on with John Kruger.

I had nothing to do with Skull Radio, that was Silent's idea.

The Smartmarks wrestling Federation presents... SWF STORM, WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 25TH, LIVE FROM THE FORD CENTER IN OKLAHOMA CITY, OKLAHOMA! (5:00pm PCT, 8:00pm EST; check local listings) Send marked matches, promos, etc. to Suicide King We have a new champion, and perhaps, against all odds, or anyone’s wildest imagination, Johnny Dangerous holds the strap. Opening Promo: Johnny Dangerous, the new world champ, speaks. MAIN EVENT ICTV TITLE MATCH Landon “La Cucaracha” Maddix© vs “The Icon” Max King What the hell is La Cucaracha there for? Seriously, I don’t know, but Maddix is a solid player, a blue-chipper if you will, and will probably have his name in the main event title reign soon. But so will Max King, I guarantee you that. The question is, who gets there first? Rules: Standard match. DQ and countout apply. Word Limit: 6000 Send To: Suicide King WORLD TITLE CONTENDERSHIP Dace Night vs Jamie Drazon Both these men have come close in the past to tasting world title gold, but have not claimed it. Who will get another shot at the zenith? Rules: Normal rules, DQ and countout apply. Word Limit: 5500 Send To: chirs3 TAG TEAM TITLE MATCH Hollywood Boulevard (Mike Van Siclen & "Urban Legend" Todd Cortez) © vs Revolution Zero ("Hollywood" Spike Jenkins & Sean Davis) And now that the tag title holders are decided, they’ll face those dirty sons of bitches, Revolution Zero. Rules: Standard tag match. Word Limit: 5500 Send To: Thoth SINGLES MATCH Toxxic vs Justin Bowers The most prolific rookie’s title reign ends at the hands of the Secret Agent. For some reason, this match has been requested by the former champ. Maybe to let some steam off? Rules: Normal rules, DQ and countout apply. Word Limit: 5000 Send To: 5_moves_of_doom USJL TITLE MATCH David Cross vs “The Corona” Vladimir Everheart© David Cross, the underdog on Storm, won his match and the right to this spot. Vladimir Everheart has been a capable champ of late, so will we see a changing of the guard? Rules: Normal rules, DQ and countout apply. Word Limit: 5500 Send To: Suicide King SUBMISSIONS “EGO” MATCH “The Notorious” John Duran vs “The Superior One” Tom Flesher. With nicknames like that, you know egos will collide. This match is basically an “I Quit” match, but to submit, a wrestler must say (or scream) the name of his opponent, thereby supplanting his ego above his own. Rules: Submissions only. Read description. Word Limit: 5000 Send To: chirs3 SINGLES MATCH “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens vs Ace Lezaire The loved by all Mark Stevens faces slimy heel Ace Lezaire. Need there be more description? Rules: Normal rules, DQ and countout apply. Word Limit: 5000 Send To: Thoth CRUSIERWEIGHT TITLE #1 CONTENDERSHIP MATCH The Birdman vs Ryan Dustin Someone beat Tom Flesher. Somebody. Begging you here. If he beats Fallout’s reign I’m gonna be pissed. Fallout fuckin’ ruled, and NONE OF YOU REMEMBER HIM. FUCK YOU AND THE HORSES YOU RODE IN ON.Rules: Normal rules, DQ and countout apply. Word Limit: 4500 Send To: 5_moves_of_doom TAG MATCH Nathan Xavier & Manson vs The Masked Man & Munich The Masked Man GOT SERVED~ on Storm. Now without a title to hold, and Revolution Zero at his back, he looks to find some new freshness in tagging. Also Vladimir is pretty cool. Seriously guys, angles are freakin’ cool. Rules: Normal tag rules, DQ and countout apply. Word Limit: 5000 Send To: Suicide King SINGLES MATCH Candace vs Petey the Irish Penguin Candace has no last name. Petey sorta does. But that’s not why they’re fighting. Candace lost her Crusier shot to Tom Flesher, and Petey wants one. A win here could catch the eye of the booking committee. Kayfabe? What kayfabe? Rules: Normal rules, DQ and countout apply. Word Limit: 4500 Send To: Thoth HARDCORE MATCH Bryan Levy vs Ced Ordonez He’s a brick and Ced’s drowning slowly... oh wait, sorry. Bryan Levy’s debut match was cancelled due to the fact that... well, read Storm and find out. But here he’ll look to make his mark on the SWF. Oh, and it’s hardcore. Rules: None to speak of, really. Word Limit: 4000 Send To: 5_moves_of_doom

Seven-TEEN. </Chef>

Just got off the phone with Nintendo. They are WELL aware of the problem, but they don't want to act until they have concrete information. So how about this: Post the location of your mall in this thread, and where the booth is located. Hopefully, we can gather enough info.

I dunno about the rest, and I dunno if I qualify because I'm just a semi-mod, but I'd kick Malibu's ass.

At the mall I saw this at, I filed a fraud complaint at the front desk. A month or so later I got a letter back saying that they were assured this company was "in full compliance with the law." Which is clearly bullshit. I highly recommend someone contact Nintendo so that they may drop the fucking hammer down.

We just crowned a new champ on Storm, actually... Johnny Dangerous. You might know him better as Brimstone. I'm a booker now, believe it or not. I book Lockdowns. We've moved from a 2 show a week schedule to 3 shows every two weeks.

Card slightly edited.

Woah, it's Bo. How ya been?

Hey, Dub Cee? You're a bitch! I hope the Navy raped you!

Great friggin' show. Lots of promos. A bunch of people actually wrote. Lots of stuff. Pleased I am. Card soon.

Before Storm, before Maddix/Cortez, before whoever is giving an obesely long opening promo this show... ... there is Alex Zenon, sitting in his office and shuffling papers. He's peaceful, he's not doing any great amount of harm to anybody, but still, he's there. And God knows we wouldn't have a five-minute shot of Alex Zenon shuffling paperwork, so we're likely going to see somebody barge into his office right about... "I want him tonight, Zenon." ... now. The door flies open and a slightly passive-looking Mike Van Siclen, wearing a black dress shirt and black dress pants, in addition to his black bowler, steps into the room. Alex looks up, and promptly looks down again, probably trying to suppress a snicker at Van Siclen's expense -- but Mike is not amused. "I'm not kidding, Alex. I want him tonight." "You want who tonight, Mike? I can't book a match proper if you don't give me so much as a name." "You know damn well who it is, Z. I want Masked Man, and I want him tonight." Zenon relaxes, very nearly laughing in Van Siclen's face. "You know, I get a lot of people in here telling me what I'm going to book, and usually I just do it because it's what they want and I have no reason not to. Your case, Michael, is quite different. I mean, this whole little spat could've been avoided if you'd just rearranged your vacation time..." Game. "Z, I needed a vacation, man, and the plane tickets were non-refundable..." "Not only that, you didn't even talk to me about suspending the titles, leading to your partner having to make not one but two defences in your absence..." Set. "Alex, I tried to get a hold of you..." "And most importantly, Mike, since said vacation you've been oh-and-three, including losses to such magnificent wrestlers as Edward James, "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins, and..." Zenon re-reads through his papers, as if trying to make sure that he's reading correctly. "And Candace, of all people, Mike." Match. Zenon cracks a smile. "And yet, arrogant bastard that you are, you still expect to walk into my office and demand a match with the Masked Man, and you still expect me to just give it to you." A defeated man, Van Siclen slumps into his chair. But he looks up at Zenon, a look of desperation in his eyes. "Look, Z, I need to fight the Masked Man, and I need to do it tonight, before our defence against Revolution Zero Wednesday night." "Uh huh," Z says. "And why should I just give you this match. I mean, this whole little spat..." "Yeah, you already went there, Z." "... oh, right. Sorry, it was just so good, you..." "Yeah, I understand, Alex." "Look, Mike, I know you want this match... what's in it for the Masked Man?" "I don't know. Closure?" "I'm thinking in a completely different direction here, Michael. You know what, I think I'll give you that match against the Masked Man, actually... you guys'll be on before Flesher/Candace. However, since I'm being so generous as to book this match, I'm going to throw in two stipulations." "Okay, fine. What are they?" "Number one, since your lust full of rage is so strong... it's going to be a Falls Count Anywhere, No Disqualifications match." "Okay... what does that mean, exactly?" "There are no rules. If you can get a three-count or a submission on him, it can be here, it can be in Vancouver, it can be in Athens for all I care, if his shoulders are down for three counts or he taps out, you win. And vice versa, of course." "Right." "I expect this to be a damn good match, Mike, this would've been money for Genesis." "I don't care about Genesis, I care about keeping my tag belts..." "Oh, right, the other stipulation. Your half of the Tag belts is on the line." Mike stops. "What?" "Your half of the tag belts is on the line. If you win, Hollywood Boulevard retains the Tag championships. If Masked Man wins, 42nd Street will not only become the new Tag Team champions." Mike continues to stare at Zenon, who is twirling a pen between his fingers, obviously pleased with himself. "You're a son-of-a-bitch, Zenon... but thank you." "You're the first person to say that to me in weeks." "You deserve it, Alex... you just signed the Masked Man's death warrant." Van Siclen leaves the office, leaving Zenon to his paperwork as we fade to black...

With the main event over, the cameras cut backstage to where someone has finally caught up with Megan Skye...a cameraman, following her as she scuttles down an otherwise deserted hallway, as if playing a game of hide-and-seek. With no-one in sight, Megan continues on down the hall, scuttling along as fast as she can with her high-heels on. What she is running around for, or who for, we can't tell. But whatever it is for, it must be important as Megan looks almost as nervous as Card and Natasha did earlier. Turning the corner, Megan looks down the next hallway to the left and sighs, turning to the right...and stopping for a moment, before scuttling forwards... "LANDON! LANDON WAIT! LA..." "UUUURRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!" Suddenly Megan flies out of camera shot to the side, hitting the cold concrete floor with a splat. The cameraman dives to the floor to protect himself and by the time he regains his bearings, we can see Natasha crouched over Megan, having speared her viciously to the floor. Despite the landing, Megan pulls herself up and lunges for Natasha weakly... ...as suddenly a hand grabs her around the throat and pushes her up against the nearest wall... Chris Card's hand! "HEEEL..." Quickly his other hand clasps over her mouth, preventing her cries for help. "Big mistake little lady." Card says, as if scorning a little child rather than choking the life out of a woman. "Now, I know you want to be the little hero in this, but I'm afraid I can't let you do that." Megan, frantically trying to struggle free from Card's grip, starts to scream and shout...but all that can be heard is a faint mumbling and the odd cough and splutter. But still, Card clings onto her and even tightens the chokehold on her. "Now...here's what's going to happen sweet-cheeks. You're going to come with us and we're going to talk this over...rationally. I know this has come as a bit of a shock to you. But when we explain things. Well, I'm sure you'll understand and this whole mess will be sorted out with minimum fuss." Megan tries to speak again, as Card releases the choke slightly. "See, this is for your own good Megan. Trust me. This is for your own good and for Landon's own good. You don't realise..." Megan tries to speak, but this time Card tightens up the chokehold again, striking fear through the diminutive Skye. "You don't REALISE what you're getting into. You don't have the faintest idea. As much as you think blurting out the truth to Landon is going to help, it really isn't because right now he's safe. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. But when he does know...well, I'm sure you have an inkling as to what is going to happen. Or at least, you do if you know what Natasha thinks you know." Realising Megan is beginning to turn a faint shade or purple, Card finally releases the choke and instead grabs her by the shoulder to keep her pressed up against the wall. "I'm gonna take my hand away now...but, if you make the slightest peep, then don't think I won't punch your li...OOOOOOF!" Suddenly, Megan knees Card in the groin and he doubles over instantly, releasing Megan. She quickly takes advantage and lamps the charging Natasha with a kick to the gut which sends her crashing to the floor on her ass. With her down, Megan quickly kicks Card in the groin again, before pushing him into a handily placed trash can. "LANDON! LANDON HEEELP!!!" Card gets back up quickly though and goes for Card again, but suddenly Landon Maddix...who had been standing out vision talking to a backstage worker...suddenly hears the cries for help and begins to run over...getting halfway, before wondering what the hell is going on. Seeing Card and Natasha, he assumes everything has been sorted... "LANDON..." ...UNTIL CARD PUNCHES MEGAN!!! Finally Landon, still wondering what to think, charges forward and Card tries to run. But Maddix is far quicker than Card and catches up to him, taking him to the concrete floor with a rugby tackle that Sacred would be proud of before mounting his mentor and pounding his face in with a series of punches. Card's attempts to get away weaken quickly, as Landon grabs Card by the throat. "What the FUCK are you doing!?!" Landon screams at the cowering Card, before landing another punch. "What is this about!?!" "La..." Landon punches Card again, squarely across the bridge of the nose. "Give me a straight answer you fucking son of a bitch...what the fuck is this!?!" "I...she...Landon, don't...don't believe what she..." Angrily Maddix nails another punch, but suddenly Natasha runs over and rakes Maddix's eyes. With a wail he falls to the side, allowing Natasha to help Card to his feet and get him running off. As both Natasha and Card run for the hills, Maddix thinks about following after them but suddenly remembers Megan, turning to her diving over to check if she's ok...which she seems to be, despite blood trickling down her nose which seems pretty mis-shapen. "Are you ok?" Landon says worriedly as he tries to wipe the blood off his manager's lips, only for her to push his hand away. "What's going on Megan...what is this? And please jus..." "Landon we've been...ouch..." "Are you..." "I'm fine. Look...we need to talk about this in private Landon, this is..." "Megan, if you don't tell me what the hell is going on here, I'm gonna have to go after them and I will get the truth out of them one way or the other." Wiping some of the blood from her face with her shaking hand, Megan tries to escape Maddix's gaze but can't and finally sighs. "Chris...isn't legit. Look, it's a long story but he...doesn't work for us." "What do you mean he doesn't work for us? Of course he works for us. He's be..." "Landon!" Megan snaps. "He DOESN'T. Look, I've got him on video and I've over-heard them talking. Card isn't out for our best interests. He's...working for someone else. Someone is paying him to do their work for them. And that work is to keep you out of the World Title contention, but diverting your attentions. Why do you think you suddenly got that ICTV Championship shot? Why do you think you haven't been in a number one contendership match for the World Title since Card took over with us. Those phone calls were all strategy planning sessions...going right on under our noses. Remember the submissions match stipulation that came out of nowhere? That was Card. The reason you haven't been defending the ICTV Championship recently? That was Card. Card is selling us both down the river." Landon looks bemused as he sits next to Megan up against the wall, head in his hands and breathing heavily. "That doesn't make any sense." Maddix finally mumbles. "I mean...why?" "The person Card is working for. He doesn't want you to win the World Championship. He looked at you, he looked at Toxxic and he decided he wanted Toxxic to be the next guy to run for the title. So, he hired Card to divert your attentions away from the belt. You know...Card never went to Zenon about you wanting to answer the Toxxic Open Challenge." "He didn't?" "No." "Look, Megan...this still doesn't make any sense. Why the hell would someone hire Card to keep me from the title if they wanted Toxxic to be the champion?" "Well, I'm not sure if they wanted Toxxic to be champion for certain. But it seems that way. Besides, if they did, Toxxic's not going to accept help from anyone. But I think the issue is, they don't want you as champion." "They?" "Well, 'he'." "And who is 'he'?" "King." Landon looks even more confused than before, as Megan sighs. "Suicide King."