Thoth

"What are we going to do today man?" The voice of Austin Sly fills is broadcasted through the Smarktron into the Bradley Center. "What are our big plans for today?" Austin appears rejuvenated from his short vacation and is sporting a scruffy little beard. The look on his face is one of anxiousness and wonder as if he's has reverted back to a childhood Christmas waiting to open his first present. He stands on the far side of a table. In front of him sits a black bag which sits oddly and bulges at the seams. "Well, my friend, today we get you prepared to return to the ring." The voice of NTD rings out from somewhere off camera. "Isn't that what we've been doing for the past week. Rest, rejuvenation, and preparation for my return to the ring? What's so different about today?" Austin replies with a confused tone to his voice. "Today we decide which sexy title you're going to pursue upon your return." NTD walks onto screen. It's the first time he's appeared in the SWF since his days as an announcer. Amazingly it doesn't appear as if he's aged a day since his last appearance. His hair is longer and lighter, but his eyes still shine with the same passion that made him one of the federations most popular and recognizable stars during his prime. His passion for a hatred of pants. Pants that he refuses to wear (even at this time as he stands ever so near to Austin). "That's what you do want, isn't it? A title and the recognition that comes with it?" "Right, that is what I want. Recognition that I deserve." "And that's the recognition that you shall receive... after you make your mark. It's amazing the feeling you get when you walk around knowing you're the best at what you do and that an entire federation of your peers recognize it." NTD lifts his leg onto a chair next to Austin, making him further uncomfortable with his friends level of nakedtivity. "Why I can remember my first title in the SWF. Of course back then it was still the IGNWF. I can remember the very match. It was an absolutely sexy night and I was facing" "Hey." Austin attempts to interrupt to no avail. "one of the absolute most ferocious competitors in" "Hey." "the ring that night. We were set to fight it out" "Hey!" "tooth and... what is it Austin?" NTD puts his story on hold briefly. "Weren't you handed your first title?" "Oh... yes, I was. But that's beside the point." NTD shifts away from Austin awkwardly. "The point of the story is everyone loved me afterwards. And everyone will love you too!" "I don't want people to love me, I want them to respect me." "Love, respect, it's all the same thing right?" He reaches over and slaps Austin on the shoulder. "Besides, I know you. I know you want a little loving too, am I right huh?" A smile creeps it's way across Austin's face before he begins to chuckle at his partner's own way with words. "Yeah, you know I like that too, but look at me. Do I really need a shiny plate around my waist to draw in the girls? I'm a stud. The ladies can't keep their hands off of me as it is." The two share a good chuckle together. The laughter slowly dies down with NTD laughing just a little longer than Austin allowing him to sneak some words in quickly. "Ha ha ha... oh I'm so pathetic." Austin states, sadly. "What was that?" NTD asks. "Nothing!" Austin shouts out before returning to his usual subdued voice. "So what’s the deal with the bag man? Is this part of the preparation for my return?" "I'm glad you asked, Austin. Inside this bag are a total of thirty-six balls each of which have a unique character on them consisting of fourteen numbers and twenty-two letters. At random, I will draw three balls from the bag. After we have our numbers and letters drawn, we will take the balls over to our handy-dandy chart over on the wall and line the three up to that they match up with the possible numbers and letter combinations already on the chart. After that's finished, we just have to draw a line right across the chart to the opposite column to match up to the name of one of the current champions in the SWF. The name of that champion will be who you'll challenge for their title upon your return to the federation at the next show. Any question?" "..." Austin sits in stunned silence. "... I'm just messing with you. There's only six balls in here and they all have a different name on them. It's that simple. Ah I got you good... the look on your face, priceless." NTD has a short chuckle at his protege's expense. "But what about the chart?" "All part of the gag my friend. I made it up last night while you were asleep. It actually has one hundred and eight different combinations on it." "You went to all that trouble just for a short gag?" Austin pauses to watch NTD nod in approval. "You're one sick son of a bitch, you know that?" "Oh I know... but seriously. Whoever's name I draw out of the bag, you have to be willing to challenge for their title. Are you confident enough in your own skills as a wrestler to make that kind of commitment? If I were to draw Janus' name out of the bag, would you put your life and limb on the line against him?" "Yes. I trust in my own skill. This week is exactly what I needed to get back into the stride of things and I'm ready to face any challenge head on." Austin replies with confidence. "Okay... here we go then. Reach down into the bottom here and mix them all up. Try and get a good one. And here we go. Are you ready? Champion's name coming at ya'." "Get on with it!" Austin shouts impatiently. "Johnny Dangerous." "Johnny Dangerous?" "Johnny Dangerous!" NTD yells back at Austin. "Come on man, this is your fate! Get a little pumped! Make some noise! Get angry! Hit the table!" Austin smashes his fists into the table, knocking the untied bag over onto the table causing the balls to spill out. He then turns to NTD who promptly shoves him backwards with two open palms. Austin returns the favor by shoving NTD back. "Come on man, lets get in a workout before you have to head out of here tonight." NTD says, getting back to business quickly. The two walk out of the camera frame to the left. In the background is an audible thud as the two leave the room. The camera then rotates down to the spilled balls on the table and zooms in enough where all six are still on screen. Written on each in clear, legible handwriting is the name "Johnny Dangerous".

The Bradley Center in Milwaukee, Wisconsin is alive and well. Fans rocking to Storm’s mighty theme song as the show returns from commercial break, and the cameras make an obligatory sweep of the crowd--A row of fans dressed in poorly crafted Mobile Suit Gundam suits in homage of the man who traded his stripes back in for a pair of tights, while farther away a few signs like one crafted in presidential campaigning bumper sticker fashion that reads: “Flesher 2020”. Other fans display theirs – “DACE was F*CENSORED*ING screwed Sunday NIGHT”, and “Marry me Jet!” Storm’s theme fades and a voice picks up on the speakers, whispering a name in a deep, sultry voice… “JOHNNY DANGEROUS~!” “After the Flesh” suddenly follows suit, thundering out across the arena to a sensational pop from the crowd, while on the stage, a thick-white smoke begins billowing out, completely immersing the stage! “Welcome back to SWF Storm, Citizens!” exclaims our exuberant masked announcer. “You are viewing LIVE our all promotional edition of Storm, and leading you through all of this will be the man sitting next to me, Bobby Riley, along with me… CYCLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE COMET~!” On the Smarktron, clips of the Barracuda in action flash by – Johnny hitting a Shooting Johnny Press on Todd Cortez, Ace Lezaire trapped in his over-the-shoulder Boston Crab and tapping like a lunatic, a spinning heel kick to Mike Van Siclen’s dreadful skull, Spike Jenkins taking a sunset flip powerbomb of the side of a cage! All the while, dozens of strobes light up the set, partially illuminating the Barracuda as he steps through the curtains and strolls into the middle of the smoke… and finally emerges through the cloud at the top of the ramp. “Ladies and gentlemen,” bellows Funyon, “please welcome to the ring at this time… the SWF WORLD CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIOOOOOON… JOHNNY ‘THE BARRACUDAAAAA’… DAAANGEROUUS!!” Johnny stands at the top of the ramp for a moment, surveying the crowd through his sleek high-tech shades and with a faint smile he grabs the opening of his trench coat… and flings it open, revealing the Cruiserweight Title belt strapped around his waist! “What an entrance,” cheers Comet. “The Cruiserweight Champion has arrived after a successful title defense against ‘Hollywood’ Spike Jenkins at 13th Hour!” “Let me remind everyone though,” notes Bobby. “At 13th Hour Comet was not cheering Johnny Dangerous, no he was cheering the so called ‘underdog’ Spike Jenkins.” “What in the name of Zeus does that have to do with tonight, Robert? I picked a man who had all the chance in the world at winning, but 13th Hour just wasn’t his night. However, I’d like to point out that it was brutally close, and I think Spike Jenkins came far closer than any other man has yet to defeating Operative Dangerous for the Cruiserweight Championship!” “Yes and that match is done and over with,” says Bobby, quite smugly. “We can all go back to despising Johnny Dangerous and all his crowd whoring mannerisms; he certainly doesn’t have anything to say that we’d be even remotely interested in hearing…that’s for sure!” “Speak for yourself – we haven’t heard a single peep out of Operative Dangerous since that fateful day when his partner, the Wildchild, fell to a heinous attack at the hands of Mike Van Siclen! I for one am greatly interested in hearing what the Barracuda has to say.” Johnny finally reaches the ring and he climbs up the steel steps to the apron, stepping out onto it before carefully gliding to the middle. He slowly turns toward the crowd, putting his back to the ring as his hand moves up to his face, taking hold of his shades while the other hand moves to unfasten the Cruiserweight Title… …and Johnny flings the shades from his face…and into the crowd then rips the title from his waist, and thrusts his arm into the air, dangling the title from his hand to a roar of cheers! “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!” “He’s got the pose down,” mutters Bobby, “all Johnny’s lacking is a little water spitting for added effect.” Slinging the title over his shoulder, Johnny enters the ring through the middle rope and motions to a ringside assistant for a microphone. One is handed to him, and as the Secret Agent’s music fades out he strolls to the center of the squared circle. He begins to raise the microphone to his lips, looking out at the sea of fans in attendance…then a chant breaks out, forcing the Barracuda to hold off on his speech. “JOOOHN-NY!” “JOOOHN-NY!” “JOOOHN-NY!” “JOOOHN-NY!” “I must say,” he begins, pausing for a beat as he allows the crowd to settle in their seats, “it’s been a long while since I felt like I had something worthwhile to say to all the fans of the SWF… so this may take a minute.” “Oh great,” groans Bobby, “we are going to be here for a while and I forgot my I-Pod in the locker room.” “Will you hush,” hisses Comet. “Can’t you see the Barracuda has something important to say?!” “I came to my realization after Sunday night,” Johnny continues, slowly pacing the ring, “after 13th Hour, after the brutality ended… it was then I finally realized I needed to end my weeks of silence. However, before I get too far along, Spike… if you’re listening in the back like I know you are… realize this.” Johnny turns towards the camera, glaring straight into the lenses. “When I first learned that I would be facing you for the Cruiserweight Championship at 13th Hour I didn’t really think much of it. I knew you made a promise to give me a match that I’d never forget, but let me be honest and say… I really didn’t believe you. I really didn’t think you would bring everything that you could. Then came Sunday night, and though I was able to beat you and retain the Cruiserweight Championship… you proved me wrong!” “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!” “That’s right, go ahead and cheer for him,” placing the microphone under his arm, Johnny proudly claps for his former opponent. “Spike deserves it. You sir, have my utmost respect. Any man who challenges me for the Cruiserweight Championship and takes me on that kind of a hellacious ride—pushing me past my limits, even when I felt I couldn’t possibly go any further and fighting with ever ounce of energy you had.” Johnny grabs the Cruiserweight Championship off his shoulder, slowly raising it up over his head, “and for nothing more than this!” “Bravo!” cheers Comet. “But why can’t we see such honorable competitors doing this in our World Title scene. We’d have such a pleasant federation.” “Oh, Jesus,” groans Riley. “That’d sure put a lot of asses in seats, Comet. Sore winners just don’t sell, that’s why we’ve been hiding Johnny Dangerous behind the opening curtains for two years now.” “The thing that stood out most to me, Spike, was your utter refusal to ever give up,” continues Johnny, shifting the belt back in place over his shoulder. “You reminded me of someone that I held very dear to me. Someone that always gave everything he had, no matter how big of an obstacle and no matter how many people told him he had no chance! Someone that had been like a brother too me, and I never even gave him the proper regards as he sailed off into the sunset. So tonight,” he says, looking out to the fans. “I’d like to do what I should have done a long time ago… I’d like to tell you a little story. I’d like to tell you a story… about the Bahama Bomber, the Wildchild!” “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!” The cheer that thunders out is quit simply… deafening. “WILD-CHILD!” “WILD-CHILD!” “WILD-CHILD!” “It was nearly two years ago when I first met Wildchild, and right from the beginning I knew this kid had a desire like I never saw before,” he says, letting the fans settle themselves once more, “and if you remember correctly, I wasn’t even a wrestler then. However, you all know my past and the great tragedy it produced and going over that would be like trying to close the barn doors when the horse already escaped.” “Oh, ho-ho,” scoffs Bobby. “How quick we are to just glance over that entire series of events like it meant nothing. How about he reminds the fans of what he did to Wildchild?” “Robert,” barks Comet. “If you really want to know about that it IS available on DVD – The Wild and Dangerous downward spiral for $24.99 at select retailers. You fans better jump on this one, for I hear through the grapevine that it is soon scheduled to go into the elusive SWF vault!” “Anyway,” Johnny continues. “To make a long story short, as I know we are on a tight time schedule for this evening, I watched this kid grow from literally nobody to one of—if not the greatest Cruiserweight I had ever seen. Every night that he came out here, it wasn’t because he wanted to chalk up another win, it was firstly because he wanted to entertain you—the fans. But deep down inside there was a second desire, and that was to bring back the greatness that he knew there could be with the cruiserweight division. Not once did he ever listen to those who said the cruiserweight division would ever return and that it died with the Light Heavyweight Title forever secured around EL Luchador Magnifico’s waist-” “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!” Another cheer explodes from the bleachers upon mention of the former World Heavyweight Champion and final leader of the Midnight Carnival’s name. A chant quickly follows pursuit: “E-L-M!” “E-L-M!” “E-L-M!” “E-L-M!” “E-L-M!” “E-L-M!” “Too bad the only way he can get any pops is by mentioning other folks’ names,” snipes Bobby. “Well, you can rest in the fact that he certainly won’t get any by mentioning yours.” Johnny begins to speak again, settling the crowd. “Undeterred by those who said it would be impossible, this man dedicated his entire life to reviving the cruiserweight division in this federation, and after two years of fighting… when he opened that briefcase after defeating Tom Flesher in a brutal ladder match at Clusterfuck… I had never seen a man more happy in my life. Finally, Wildchild had succeeded!” Johnny stops for a moment, gazing at the canvas. “It seems all the remembrance of the Wildchild is starting to cause grief with the Barracuda,” Comet suggests. “Can’t say I blame him though—hand me your handkerchief, Robert.” “Over my dead body, Comet! I’m saving this baby for that one fateful day with Tom Flesher,” replies Bobby, patting his jacket pocket. Johnny kicks at the canvas before looking back up. “Everything he had done, everything he had fought so hard for had finally been realized…” he takes the Cruiserweight title off his shoulder, raising it out to the fans once more. “Realized when this came into realization—the SWF Cruiserweight Championship of the World!” “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!” “When Wildchild had finally succeeded at getting this title brought out, he put everything he had into defending it tooth and nail! Wildchild was the pure embodiment of the division—when you say cruiserweight his name is the first name that pops into my mind, and when it is all said and done… the Bahama Bomber as some liked to call him, will always, and by God I mean ALWAYS, be a Cruiserweight Champion in my book!” “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!” “And while some of you in the back, like Spike Jenkins, felt like you wanted this belt, he LIVED for this belt! “By Zeus he did,” concurs Comet. “Johnny should have given this speech a long time ago; maybe the Wildchild would have returned to us instead of heading back to the Bahamas.” “To live for this Championship is what this legacy is all about,” Johnny continues, proudly pacing the canvas. “This is what I strive to do every night that I put the Cruiserweight Championship on the line—to fight with everything you have and to proudly represent the SWF … and yes,” he turns his attention towards the announcers table, “by being the best damn cruiserweight in the world!” “Oh, he must have been listening to me during Battleground,” says Bobby sheepishly. “I still stand my ground on that one though.” “Wildchild, my friend, my partner, he put his life into making this title… and career wise, he DIED for this title! So for all of you listening in the back, if you want to challenge me for this title, you’d better damn well be prepared—this title comes with a lot of baggage! When you win this title it also comes with a legacy, and a legacy to uphold; Wildchild put his career on the line just to make this possible for the rest of us—showing a little respect couldn’t possibly be too much to ask! If you respect yourself and your division, any man who inherits this gold should do everything they can to make sure the Cruiserweight Championship will always flourish!” “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!” “DUB-CEE!” “DUB-CEE!” “DUB-CEE!” “DUB-CEE!” “DUB-CEE!” “DUB-CEE!” “DUB-CEE!” “DUB-CEE!” “These fans showing their own respect for the Bahama Bomber here,” notes Comet. “If the Wildchild is watching I am sure he is smiling proudly.” “What for?” ask Bobby, quite dumbfounded. “Because he can still get chants when he’s half a world away?” “No, you tool; his partner, Johnny Dangerous is giving him one heck of a shout out that drives home a very valid point. Where would the cruiserweight’s in this federation be without the road the Bahama Bomber paved for them?!” “Probably the same place as Tom Flesher if they were any good,” Bobby smugly replies. “There is one last thing though,” Johnny says, the hesitation in his voice a little more than obvious. “I remember once in my many travels with the Wildchild—he told me that though he had never admitted it to any of you fans that he deep down he really would have liked a shot at the SWF Intercontinental-Television Championship, but thought that if he removed his focus from the Cruiserweight Championship that the division would dwindle and soon die off once more. Sadly enough, and thanks in majority to a certain jealous someone injuring the Wildchild, he never got to fulfill that desire.” “It’s a good thing too,” says Bobby. “Wildchild would have been squashed like a bug wrestling those super heavyweights.” “I think he proved otherwise in his run as Hardcore Gamers Champion,” replies Comet, shaking his head. “Need I also remind you that Toxxic is a cruiserweight and technically, so is the number one contender to the World Heavyweight Championship.” “Bah,” growls Riley, cocking his hand back. “Why don’t you shut up with all your facts.” “However, after everything Wildchild did just for this title-the Cruiserweight Championship—just to exist, I figured that since I can wrestle, that it would be selfish of me not to honor him.” Johnny pauses once more, unwittingly trembling ever so slightly. “Is to try and do the one thing my partner would have wanted, and that is to challenge for the Intercontinental-Television title.” “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!” “Last Smarkdown I tried once,” he continues, “and after that match I can honestly say I was glad it was over. I don’t think I have ever been beaten so badly before, but there is a need for me to honor my friend… and so I am willing to step into the ring with the Hell Machine once more, God willing… and Wildchild this is for you-” “Surely he isn’t, surely he realizes the consequences of what he is saying!” Looking straight into the camera once more, Johnny swallows then says, “I am officially making an open challenge to the Hell Machine, Janus, for the SWF Intercontinental-Television Championship!” “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!” “He’s OFFICIALLY gone completely insane!” cries Bobby. “Johnny can’t beat Janus; it’s been proven once already! Hell, nobody can beat the Hell Machine, that’s why he is the World Heavyweight Champion!” “Indeed, the Barracuda is walking straight into a gas chamber there,” adds Comet. “However, if he feels that’s the best way for him to honor the Wildchild after the Bahama Bomber put his life into the Cruiserweight Championship…than I firmly stand behind the Barracuda’s cause, like it or not!” “And if this match happens once more,” he spins away from the camera, turning back towards the crowd, “and I can still stand when it’s all said and done…then I truly hope that I will have honored the Wildchild…AND…HIS…LEGACY!” “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!” “After the Flesh” rages through the arena once more as Johnny hands the microphone back to Funyon. He raises the Cruiserweight Championship to all the fans once more, standing with a smile as hundreds of flashbulbs explode… but deep down inside, there are no smiles. For Johnny Dangerous, the Barracuda, knows he has made the biggest challenge of his life. Such thoughts don’t sit easy, but he pumps his fist to the crowd… As we: FADE OUT.

“It is difficult.” “It’s your job.” “Not anymore. We have gone through this. I turned in my gun. I turned it all in. I even signed a piece of paper.” “But you’re still connected.” The man sits in a swivel chair, with the back turned away. His client sits opposite the desk, mask on his head and suit on his back. “Boss, sir, I have told you, I am clean. I have started my new life. I have been WINNING!” “Wrestling,” the boss laughs, “a new life? How funny you should mention that. Because your final job is none other than-“ “No final jobs, sir. Finished! I have high aspirations…I would like to dethrone Michael Van Siclen from his reign as Hardcore Gamers’ Champion, or possibly win Alan Clark’s Triple Crown Championship and rename it the Eastern European Middleweight Championship…boss, I have so much to live for now. Do not take that away from me.” “See, my Mask, we can do both, concurrently. You have a wrestling event on the twenty third of the month, correct?” “I do, sir.” “Well, that is perfect. You had the night off tonight, I know. But the man we need you to take out is the one man you have a connection with in the company.” Masked Man’s eyes grow so wide, they stretch the fabric of the mask. “No, boss, not him. Anyone but him. He was…nay, he IS my mentor, my trainer, he is…like a father to me.” “That’s sweet, Mask. But we need him dead. We had a bit of a misunderstanding in a Detroit bar last week, and-“ “Misunderstanding! That is exactly what this is! You do not even know him!” “I will make this simple for you, Mask, because I like you. Either you kill William Hearford the third, or…” The Boss trails off, and the cocking of a gun can be heard. Mask can only nod. His voice is weak. “Consider it done.” To be continued! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Alex Zenon’s enjoys a moment of calm in his office. Unfortunately, it doesn’t last long. *Knock, knock* “Nice to see someone respect the-“ but before Zenon can finish, the door bursts open and The Masked Man walks into the office, looking visibly shaken. He sits down on the sofa (yes, there is a sofa). “Mask, what’s up? You look like you were just asked to kill your best friend.” Silence. “Right,” Zenon continues, pacing, “you came in here for something. What is it?” “Well, Mister Zenon, on the twenty third of this month, I am going to be an emotional wreck.” Zenon eyes Mask suspiciously. “Just a premonition,” Mask continues, “and I am going to need to blow off steam. Please, Mister Zenon, give me a match on the twenty third.” “I was kind of planning on it, you know, seeing as you’re on the roster and all…” “A contendership match. I do not care what title it is for, but I want a contendership match. I believe I have earned it after my effort in the Five Wounds Gauntlet. My testicles are a shade of blue…” Zenon coughs, and looks visibly disgusted as Mask continues. “…and my body is broken. I am ready to take the next step, Mister Zenon, and I am ready to become a CHAMPION.” “I’ll see what I can do.” “Bless you, Zenon.” Masked Man stands up, bows, and walks out the door without another word. As he gets up, something falls out of his pocket. He’s already out of the room before Zenon notices. He walks over to the chair and picks it up. It’s a picture. Of William Hearford. “…that’s weird.” Zenon says, tosses the snapshot in the trash, and goes back to work.

Backstage, away from the hussle and bussle of activity, is the duo of Wayward Sons… Alan Clark sitting behind a long desk with Edward James standing just over his shoulder, the big man’s stare unwavering. Alan still seems beaten up from the 13th Hour, as he rubs his neck before he speaks toward the camera. “Nobody thought it could be done. Everyone looked down on me and thought that I was just a fluke when it came to Mr. Landon Maddix. But they were wrong. I went into that match with my head held high, and though I left the match in near unconsciousness, I still stand here today with the Triple Crown.” The camera pans down to show the three championship belts laid across the table, shining brightly though the light in the room is dim. “But now it seems Landon has other things on his mind. The World Heavyweight Championship. I hate to break this to you, Landon…but if you can’t beat me, you won’t stand much of a chance when the Hell Machine tears your head off. He nearly broke my neck, and he might not stop at ‘nearly’ if you ever get close to him. I might not be a friend, but you can heed the advice from someone who has been there. Now then, it seems that since I am the Triple Crown Champion, people will start gunning for me, won’t they? Well listen, boys, I’m not about to let this fall through my hands unless they are cold and dead…but I have other matters to attend to. You know, it seems that there are two more belts that myself and Eddy have had our eyes on ever since our first night of partnership.” The words cause a smile from James, but Alan simply continues. “I’m not here to make a challenge, or ask for a rematch. Far from it. The Wayward Sons earn their chances, and we just wish to let it be known that we will get our chance sooner or later and we do not care who we have to face, when we have to face them, or how we have to win…it will get done. Whether we face Hollywood Boulevard or any other team here in the SWF…we will fight our way to those tag team championships, and there is absolutely NOTHING you can do to stop it.” Alan smiles and leans back in his chair as Edward steps around the table and moves toward the camera, his eyes looking straight through the lens… “Five words, people…” Wayward…Son…Pride. Believe It.

Funyon: Ladies and gentleman… on his way to the ring, weighing in at 245 pounds, from Milwaukee, Wisconsin (HUGE HOMETOWN POP)… The Full Effect… DAVID BLAZENWING!!! “Last Resort” by Papa Roach hits the SmarkTron. David Blazenwing walks out, no pyro or special stagelights, and appears to be limping significantly. He walks up the ring steps slowly and climbs inside the ring, before joining Funyon in the center of the ring. Funyon: David Blazenwing, you have yet to attain a single victory in the SWF, and now it appears as though you won’t get that opportunity. Between the beatings you’ve received here, PCW, and the assault you received in the NAFW tournament over the weekend, your knee is now severely injured and requires immediate surgery. As you are facing a knee operation, I wonder if you would share, with the millions of your fans all over the world, what's going through your head. David Blazenwing: Well, Funyon, it seems like we've done this before, and this time, unfortunately for me, it's much more serious than last time. I've never had a doctor look at me in the face and say that I may never be able to wrestle again, especially considering the beatings I’ve taken in the past, but of course, those have all finally taken their toll as well. Of course, as far as the whole “not being able to wrestle again” bit goes, it's not something that I believe… but the fact is, it's something that I have to deal with. Time has taken its toll on my body. Funyon: I know you're just as disappointed, more so than anyone else, that you are ending your run in the SWF with such a horrible record. Since 2002, no one has taken on more matches, more opponents, joined more federations and has ever had to endure the kind of workload that you have so readily taken upon yourself. David Blazenwing: Well, Funyon, that’s one thing about me, is I can't do anything halfway. I came here, and heard the fans chanting for Janus, chanting for Spike, chanting for whoever the man of the hour seemed to be, and in the end, I really do what I do day in and day out for them. In spite of what people may think about me, all I've ever wanted for all these people is for them to have a good time and to enjoy themselves. I've always tried to be the one to provide it whether it was on the good side or the bad side. But, what was always important to me was the performance… so that these people, each time they reached in their pocket, they paid to get an SWF ticket or a PCW ticket or a BWF ticket… they didn't regret it because they knew that if they saw my name on the card they could yell, they could come and they could cheer and they could boo and they could do whatever they wanted as long as they had a good time. Over the last couple of months, there's been a lot of talk of people having bad attitudes and a lot of the rumors involve my entry into the SWF. All I know today, is that one thing that's not going to revolve around this company, for a long time, is going to be David Blazenwing. Honestly, Funyon, I don't know where I'm at right now. I have to have everything checked. I may be beyond reconstructive surgery. I may, or may not, be able to fix it. But, if I can't come back and perform at the level I performed at, before... I just can't perform. I can't come out here and just go half-assed like some other people feel they can get away with. I have to come out here and I have to romp and stomp and I have to get tossed around. I have to toss people around and I have to have fun. I took on my hectic schedule over the last two years because I didn't feel like I could stay away from the business I love so much. I wanted to do everything. I wanted to become a Champion in SWF and prove I could do it to everyone who ever doubted me. I wanted to ride in jets and ride in limousines and I wanted to be on TV shows and I wanted to do autograph sessions and I got to do every bit of that. If nothing else, I have all of that to take with me. I know right now, we're in the middle of a time where toughness is real big here in the Smarks Wrestling Federation… and unfortunately, all I've got right now for you is a lot of sorrow, tears and emotion. I don't have any toughness for anybody, so I guess… this is my stop. This is where I get off. I know that over the last several months, I've lost a lot of things and one of them has been my smile. I know it doesn't mean a whole lot to everybody else, but it means a lot to me. So, I have to go back and take care of myself, and I have to go back and I have to find my smile because somewhere along the line, I lost it and I don't care, really, I don't care if it's unpopular, and I don't care if people want to make fun of me because I'm an emotional guy. But, um, this is all I've ever wanted to do and over the last two years, I got to do it… and whether you like me or not, I just want to tell you that these last two years were the most wonderful years of my life, and if I never get to do it again, it'll be okay, because I got to live two full years as being the one of the most prominent names in this business. I have all the fans to thank for that, and I have everybody here in the SWF to thank as well. It means a lot to me and… and… that’s all there is to that. Will I be back? Who knows? We’ll have to see after this injury heals. Until then though… I’m out. Take care, brah. Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen… DAVID BLAZENWING! “Last Resort” hits the SmarkTron as David Blazenwing gingerly climbs out of the ring and hobbles up the ramp. Bobby Riley: Thank God! We’ll never have to see HIM again! Cyclone Comet: Never say never, Citizen Riley. No one ever thought we’d see David Blazenwing in the SWF to begin with, yet here he was. I’m sure we’ll see him again someday. Bobby Riley: Damn. So close… Cyclone Comet: Ladies and gentleman at home, don’t go anywhere! We’ll have more SWF Storm for you right after this commercial break!

The arena is growing louder as they wait in anticipation for the next event that's gonna happen at tonights show. Various signs are seen through the crowd exclaiming "Janus is Champ" and "Janus Fears Flesher". As the audience becomes impatient suddenly the lyrics of Hank Williams Jr are heard over the PA system. "The preacher man says it's the end of time And the Mississippi River, she's a-goin' dry... The interest is up and the stock market's down And you only get mugged if you go downtown... I live back in the woods, you see, My woman and the kids and the dogs and me... I got a shotgun, a rifle, and a four-wheel drive And a country boy can survive Country folks can survive..." Some of the crowd is singing along while most people just look bewildered as to never hearing this entrance music played before. The curtains are thrown over to the side as out walks what appears to be a stranger. The stranger is 6 foot 2 and is a little bit above average in size. He is wearing a Pi Kappa Phi fraternity shirt that hangs over a pair of faded blue jeans and black boots. Short curly hair and a long slender face make the man seem somewhat familar-- yet no one recognizes him. He struts midway down the entrance ramp and has a microphone in his hand... "Howdy to all the cheese heads out in wisconsin..:waits a minute for a few short cheers: in case all y'all are wondering just how the hell I am.. letme introduce myself as Martin "Big Country" Hunt. You see I hail from the mountains of the Carolinas and have some how gotten myself into a contract deal here at the SWF, or whatever it's name is. You know what not even into my first match and I can already tell I am gonna have a problem here. My backstage locker room was trashy and didn't fit up to any kind of normal-man's standards.. :begins walking down further towards the awaiting ring: I am stuck here in no-man's land Wisconsin where not a damn thing happens. :boos are emerging: I can't even find a descent bar around this inbred Bradley Center located in where-I-pee, milwaukee. :boos start becoming outrageous and one crazed fan throws a bag of stale popcorn at Martin: You see I can't even get decent popcorn from you damn cheese wiz of creatins out there, did I pay my fraternity dues for this?" Martin slams the microphone down and struts his way to the ring smirking at the sold out crowd and giving his "one-finger" salute to a few deserving gentlemen. Hank Williams Jr's lyrics and guitar playing fade out as Martin lifts up the ropes and ducks under to fit in the ring. He reaches in his back pocket and pulls out a little pint bottle of 100 proof Southern Comfort black label and takes a swig. The bottle seems to have already taken a beaten as Martin knocks back a little more then places the bottle in the bottom of the turnbuckle to avoid spillage of his fancy beverage. Without warning, all the lights of the arena cut out, leaving Martin and the audience shocked and curious. White pyro flashes and streaks from the ceiling to the stage and resembles bolts of lightning while thunder is heard. It is almost as if the whole entire arena is caught in the middle of a thunder storm. One last loud clap of thunder hushes even the smallest of noises in the crowd as loud rock music blare out the lyrics of Trapt's Headstrong. "Back off I’ll take you on Headstrong to take on anyone I know that you are wrong Headstrong we’re Headstrong Back off I’ll take you on Headstrong to take on anyone I know that you are wrong and this is not where you belong I can’t give everything away I won’t give everything away" The arena lightens up a little and flames burst up and border the stage as if the lightning strikes had somehow caught the ring on fire. Two gentlemen emerge from the curtains and walk slowly and steadily down the ramp towards the ring. A dark blue spotlight follows the duo to the ring as helps give some leadway to their identity. Both gentlemen are African-American and have almost the same complexion. One is dressed in a business suit, tie, and some new sport glasses while the other one is obviously alot larger than his manager looking friend. The bigger of the two is wearing dark blue wrestling tights which carry a lightning design down the left pant leg and is wearing black wrestling boots and no shirt. He is clearly a very strong guy just from his appearance and physique. The smaller guy however has a microphone of his own... "Ladies and Gentlemen of the Milwaukee Bradley Stadium, Letme first introduce my main man, the most impressive athelete I have ever seen, the man who makes kids scared of thunderstorms.... Sean "The Perfect Storm" Davis. And letme tell you he is alot tougher and stronger than any of you damn Wisconsin people have ever seen :this draws more boos from the crowd: Now you are probably wondering about who I am.. well I am a well-educated lawyer who has won many of my cases. I can put all of you in jail right now for slander if I wanted, hell this other guy in the ring, I just might get him a court case for public drunkeness.. :Martin is seen mouthing Fuck You to the two gentlemen approaching the ring: Hey watch your mouth punk! Sean Davis will deal with you soon enough and after this match you won't even have to worry about your precious "fraternity dues..." hahahahaha... With this last comment Sean walks into the ring and goes over the top rope with one leg after the other, showing how big he is in size. He is obviously a good 4 inches and 50 lbs bigger than his opponent, yet Martin is not showing any sign of concern. The ring announcer begins.. In this next match up scheduled for one pinfall, we have in this corner weighing in at 220 lbs, towering at 6 foot 2 inches, hailing all the way from Boone, North Carolina...... Maaaaaarrttttttin Huuuuuuuunt. And his opponent weighing in at 270 lbs, with a height of 6 feet 5 inches... hailing from Florida, known as the Perfect Storm, Seeeeeaaaaannnnn Daaaaaaaavviiiss. :Marcus stands down by the ring and prepares to watch the match from the outside: Let's get this fight underway.. ::DING DING:: Comet: I can't wait to see the talent behind these two newcomers of the SWF. Riley: Seems the only talent that country guy has is the ability to hold his liquor.. Martin and Sean both circle each other attempting to size the other up and they both lunge at each other to gain the upper hand in a grapple. Sean easily uses his strength to his advantage and throws Martin back onto the ground. Sean gets a quick kick to Martin's knee before Martin can get back to his feet.. Comet: Man oh man does Martin Hunt have his work cut out for him. Sean seems to just have to much muscle to handle.. Riley: Yea what a way to be welcomed into the SWF-- by facing a man that seems to have come from some type of bodybuilding show.. I wonder how much "The Perfect Storm" can bench? Sean goes for another grapple, but Martin slips away and races behind Sean. With a quick dropkick to the knees Sean comes tumbling down to the mat. Martin goes for a quick ankle lock but is kicked into the corner by the strong leg of Sean. Sean grabs Martin's head and bashes it into the turnbuckle for a count of five before Martin gives a not-so obvious low blow to the lower regions of Davis. Riley: Now that is not good sportsman-ship, I mean really did he have to do that! Comet: Haha, the good ol' family jewels..the beans and frank... Riley: Oh and here comes Martin with some offense.. Martin takes advantage of the dazed Davis and delivers and quick bull-dog. Martin show-boats to the crowd and mocks Sean's hurt privates. Sean sits up and then grabs the legs of Martin out from under him. Davis picks Hunt up by the head and then gives him a huge full-nelson slam that shakes the ring. Sean then becomes to stomp on Martin.. Riley: Man, Martin just took a powerful form of abuse there, I don't see how he is gonna be able to get up from that one.. Comet: I felt the ring shake from that power.. Riley: Davis is a powerhouse and it looks like a long night for Big Country.. Sean grabs the out of breath Martin and begins setting him up for a big military press drop. He lifts Martin easily into the air and tosses him down onto the top ropes, making sure Martin's neck gets the good view of the top rope-- nearly choking him in the process. Martin grabs his throat in pain as the referee goes over to check on him. Sean looks down with a glance of pure power and grabs Martin up once again and tosses him into the ropes, as Martin springs off the ropes back towards Sean, he ducks and avoids a huge boot that soars in the air. As Martin comes off the ropes and catches Sean turned around, he delivers a forearm to the back of Sean's head, which hardly fazes the big guy. Martin then gives another forearm and as Sean turns around Martin delivers a big haymaker that shakes Sean up a little bit. Martin sees how Davis is shaken up and gives him a quick scoop slam. Riley: If Martin expects to win this one he is going to have to use his quickness to his advantage.. Comet: Yea, definitely.. oh man what is Marcus doing.. Marcus climbs up on the apron to distract Martin. He taunts him and laughs as Sean recovers from the quick scoop slam. Sean sits up and walks over behind Martin to grab his head and delivers a quick neck breaker. Marcus applauds and then steps off the apron to let the two finish fighting. Sean picks up Martin once more and delivers a vicious powerbomb that makes people in the front row just flench a little bit at the way Martin's eyes rolled to the back of his head. Sean rolls over and attempts a pin.. ONE TWO No, Martin barely kicks out as Sean picks him up and slings him into the turnbuckles. Sean runs into him and delivers and nasty looking clothesline that causes Martin to slide down to the mat in the corner. Marcus runs over and begins baggering Martin about how much Sean is going to kill him and Marcus doesn't hesitate to throw a few quick shots in as well. The ref sends Marcus back over to his side as Sean picks up Martin and delivers a brainbuster DDT... Riley: Man that Marcus is a cyanical son-of-a-bitch! I can't believe he got some cheap shots in on Martin.. Comet: Ha, I bet thats the first shot Martin has taken that hasn't involved alcohol.. Riley: Well looks like Martin might be out of it after that DDT.. Sean goes for the cover.. ONE TWO T Martin meagerly gets a shoulder up as Sean becomes a little frustrated and a violent expression is seen on his face. Sean picks up Martin and executes a perfect fireman's carry gutbuster drop that makes Martin look like a ragdoll. Martin appears dazed as the ref goes to check on him. Sean pushes the ref aside and grabs Martin up once again and slings him into the ropes and delivers an atomic drop as Martin falls on his face. Sean gives a grimace look to the crowd and delivers one of his patent moves the "Super cell" as he slams Hunt down to the mat and engages in multiple blows to the face that are thrown in a very violent passion. One of the blows busts Martin's lip up and causes blood to run down the side of his face. The referee quickly intervenes and breaks Sean off of Martin. Riley: Is that really necessary? I mean come on no need to violently attack another man like that.. Comet: Hey this is great! We are actually seeing how Martin looks after he is thrown out of the bar.. what a rare sight. Riley: I can't believe you are sitting there encouraging this..Sean is fighting as if he wants to kill the guy.. Martin slowly climbs to his feet and meets a choke hold by Sean. Sean pushes Martin over to the ropes with his hand still around Martin's neck and he slowly raises Martin in the air with one-hand and lifts him over the top rope. Davis chokeslams Martin over the top rope and out of the ring onto the arena floor right in front of Riley and Comet. A loud thud is heard as Martin's body lies motionless. Riley: Oh my god! The power and destruction that lies within Sean Davis could upset alot of the competitor's within this organization. Comet: Man this is better than the court side tickets I had where Ben Wallace just destroyed the Lakers in Detroit. Sean slowly climbs out of the ring as Martin attempts to regain his feet. The ref begins counting to ten slowly.. ONE. Sean grabs Martin and slings him into the steps as the steel steps scatter in multiple directions and Martin holds his shoulder on the ground. Sean slowly advances as the ref counts to FOUR. Sean picks up Martin and gives him an european upper cut as Martin falls down back to the floor..FIVE.....SIX. Sean rolls back into the ring to avoid count-out as Marcus runs over once more to obtain cheap shots on Martin. Martin however sees him coming and as Marcus runs towards Martin, Martin ducks a shoulder and lifts up hurling Marcus over him in a "flip-style" and causing Marcus to land hard on his back. Marcus gets up holding his back in pain while Martin regains balance. SEVEN...EIGHT...NINE... Martin rolls into the ring just in time as Sean greets him with multiple kicks. Sean picks up Martin once more and goes for a shoulder-block but is caught off guard by Martin's quick leg-sweep that brings Sean to his knees. Martin jumps and lands a solid sounding elbow drop to Sean's midsection and then quickly delivers a few fast paced fists of his own to Davis's face. The ref breaks up the two once more as Martin continues to bleed from his lip. Martin gets Sean back to his feet and kicks him right in the abdominals causing Sean to bend over. This leads to a huge DDT delivered by Martin and takes the breath out of Sean's lungs for a minute..Martin goes for the cover.. ONE TWO Marcus grabs Sean's leg and puts it on the bottom rope breaking up the count. Martin turns and spits in the face of Marcus and cockily shows off his biceps. As Martin turns around he is met with another one of Sean's chokeslams and then gets pounded by a huge elbow to his chest. Davis picks Martin up and slings him into the ropes, Davis grabs Martin and uses the momentum to give a huge running power slam to Martin. Davis attempts a cover.. ONE TWO THR No, once more Martin kicks out as Marcus climbs to the apron and shows 3 fingers demanding that it was a 3 count.. Riley: Man the resilent nature of Martin is the only thing keeping him in this match.. Comet: Well I don't know how much more of a pounding he can take, I haven't seen a beating worse than this since Tuesday Night's NBA final game where Detroit just demolished the Lakers. Riley: I didn't know you were a fan of Detriot? Comet: Hey I am a fan of anyone besides the Lakers, and I mean come on who is gonna cheer for a team that has Karl Malone attempting to buy his way onto a championship team for a ring..it would be like Sean Davis teaming up with Janus to win the SWF Tag Team Titles... just to obtain gold it's ludacris.. Riley: Karl Malone is a great athelete and deserves a ring for his dedication and great work ethic. Comet: I bet you probably think Kobe is innocent of rape too.. Riley: He was proven innocent.. Comet: Yeah and O.J. didn't murder Nicole.. HA Riley: Speaking of murder, it looks like Sean Davis is fed up with Martin and is looking to attempt some sort of finishing manuever... Davis grabs Martin once again and gets in a quick grapple..Martin uses every ounce of stregth he has left and kicks Davis in the midsection and then delivers a stunning scissor kick to Davis's head. Martin laughs and mocks Davis's slow giant-like movements causing Marcus to return to the apron again and mouth off to Martin. Martin gives a good slap to the face of Marcus as Sean runs toward the back of Martin. Martin senses the big man's movements and moves aside as Sean runs into Marcus causing Marcus to bounce onto the floor with his back. Martin laughs and drop kicks Davis in the back of the head forcing him over the top ropes and out onto the floor with his manager. As the ref goes over to start the count for Davis, Martin ventures over into his corner and grabs up his pint of liquor. ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR.. Martin takes a swig, then takes a big gulp but doesn't swallow the liquor, instead he houses it within his mouth. As the ref counts to Six, Sean rolls back into the ring and Marcus starts complaining to the ref about Martin's slap and how he is going to press charges. As the ref's back is turned, Sean gets up from the mat--only to have Martin spit out 100 proof Southern Comfort in his eyes causing the big man to go momentarily blind.. Riley: Oh now that is just not right.. Comet: HA! Martin should call that move Alcohol Abuse.. hahaha Martin wipes the blood from his mouth as the ref turns around to watch the match. Marcus is heard moaning and bitching about the way Martin blinded Sean, but no one is paying any attention to the annoying pest. Martin delivers 2 quick haymakers as Sean is thrasing around violently trying to gain sight of his opponent. As Davis wipes his eyes, Martin quickly grabs Davis head back and lifts him up slightly off the ground delivering what looks like Raven's Evenflow manuever. Martin rolls over and quickly pulls a leg back for a count... ONE TWO THREE!! Riley: He shouldn't win that way.. Comet: Martin Hunt just gave Davis some "Sweet Southern Comfort" And your winner of this match-up... Maaaaaarrrrtiiiiiiiinnn Huuuuuuuuunt!! As the ref raises Martin's hand in victory the crowd boos noisely and Marcus climbs into the ring to dispute Hunt's narrow victory. Suddenly, Davis raises up from the ground and grabs Martin by the throat, Martin kicks Sean in the midsection and eye gauges him. Davis holds his eyes as Martin slides under the bottom ropes and runs off to the back..Sean slowly regains sight and takes off walking after Martin with Marcus close on his heels... Comet: Man I am starting to like that Martin Hunt fellow.. Riley: You always like the worst characters, I mean how can you support the way he got that pinfall its just not right. That match was clearly Davis'. In any case, both of those guys are on their way to gaining experience in the SWF..so who knows what the future holds for these two young superstars.. Comet: I think Martin's future is held by alot of drinking and partying... Riley: I can't wait to see what else could happen tonight..

COMMERCIAL BREAK! The screen shows an advanced-television sat on a simple TV stand in a white room. Suddenly the picture starts to distort and changes size, and an Australian voice is heard in voice-over... “Do not adjust your television set...” “I am controlling the horizontal...” “I am controlling the vertical...” Then the picture goes back to normal, but standing beside the TV is a dark-eyed figure. “My name is Andrew Blackwell... but you may know me as Sacred.” He holds up a remote control. “And I’m here to tell you about the SmartVision 2000, the only TV that will adjust its display settings automatically, including regular, widescreen and zoom options. The SmartVision 2000 regulates itself to perfectly suit the output from your source, whether that be regular TV, VHS, DVD or even a games console.” Sacred gestures towards the TV. “Don’t Experiment - Control The Transmission!” COMMERCIAL BREAK! “Well Citizens, we’re back on Lockdown!” Cyclone Comet calls as the show returns from the break. “After an amazing Pay-Per-View the superstars of the SWF are having a well-deserved rest from their amazing exertions at 13th Hour, and with a few exceptions the main exercise they will be having tonight is with their mouths!” Riley just stares at Comet. “Robert, get that image of Tom Flesher out of your head right now!” Comet snaps, then softens his tone for the camera again. “Coming up next, we have-” But the masked superhero is cut off by the crunching, distorted guitars of Lostprophets’ ‘We Still Kill The Old Way’ as the words ‘Prepare To Be Proved Wrong’ flash up, white on a blacked-out Smarktron. The shot changes to a close-up of Toxxic’s face smiling his trademark lopsided grin before it cuts to him taking Mike Van Siclen off a balcony and through a table with the Toxxic Shock Syndrome, the devastating landing timed to coincide with the- ‘GO!’ *BOOOM!!* -blast of red pyro that announces the arrival of the SWF’s premier straight-edger! The Smarktron changes to show notable clips from the Straight-Edge Sensation’s matches, but this time a new image is prevalent - Toxxic dropping Nathaniel Kibagami on his head with the Dangerlust. “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” The Wisconsin crowd are RABID as Toxxic appears through the drifting smoke of the pyro, and abuse rains down from all sides while the straight-edger makes his way to the ring to the point where Jet sticks close behind her boyfriend, looking fearful of missiles. Toxxic seems unfazed by it all, but a faint smile plays around the right-hand side of his mouth as he rolls under the bottom rope into the ring. “Ladies and gentlemen!” Funyon booms. “Please welcome the ‘Straight-Edge Sensation’... TOXXX-IIIC!!” But there is little hope of that, and the Milwaukee faithful continue to heckle the Brit as he takes the microphone from Funyon and stands in the middle of the ring. Toxxic looks around, waiting for the noise to die down, but it shows no sign of doing so and the straight-edger’s expression slips from amused to impatient, then to annoyed... “OK, enough already!” the Brit finally snaps at the crowd, who responds by booing further - but Toxxic isn’t going to let a bunch of SWF fans stop him from talking. “Fine; you don’t like me. Please rest assured that I don’t like you either,” Toxxic continues to a chorus of boos. “I’m not here to talk about whether you like me or not; the simple fact that I’m standing here should give you a clue about something.” The Brit looks around and sees comprehension dawn on a few faces. “Yeah, see, now we’re getting somewhere.” “I BEAT NATHANIEL KIBAGAMI!” The words are shouted to the sky as the straight-edger throws his head back and lets rip before his voice trails off into laughter - not cruel, sadistic laughter, but merely an expression of a weight being lifted from the soul. “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “No, you see, I don’t care if you think I suck or not,” Toxxic informs the crowd. “I did what none of you could have even hoped to ever do, and that is step into the ring with one of the greatest wrestlers, one of the most notorious figures to ever enter the SWF... and I won. Now I’ve beaten Kibagami before, but on Sunday not only did I win, but I won in a Last Man Standing match - the same type of match that Kibagami ended Edwin MacPhisto’s career in.” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “Comet, the man has a point,” Riley asserts over the crowd noise. “He beat the Silent One at his own game, and still these people show him no respect!” “Robert, I respect this man as a wrestler,” Comet answers with dignity. “As a human being, I am revolted.” “I’m not going to go into detail about my match,” Toxxic continues, “because to be quite honest I don’t remember the last bit of it. But I know what I saw on the tape, and that was me putting Nathaniel Kibagami down with the Dangerlust. Now, I don’t know what shape Kibagami is in, and I don’t care. I’m not here to talk about him either.” Toxxic gestures to Jet who is lurking at ringside, and the dreadlocked beauty pulls a can of Frost brand Cola from one of her pockets and throws it into the ring. Toxxic catches it with practised ease and pulls the ringpull. *CRAK! “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SU-” “I’m here to talk about the future,” Toxxic says, talking straight over the crowd after taking a swig. “My future. The whole thing between Nathaniel and I started when he beat me in a Number One Contender’s match. We all know that he went on to win the title - and then lose it again. In the meantime, I got sidetracked on him. Now that is over with. Finished.” Toxxic takes another swig and looks around at the Milwaukee crowd, who jeer and gesture at the Straight-Edge Sensation, but don’t bother starting to chant again - they know he’ll just ignore them. “I am hereby declaring my intent,” Toxxic states, taking another gulp of Cola. “I am going to rise to the top in this federation, and I am going to take the World Title. I don’t care who is sitting up there when I get there - Janus? I owe him for two losses, and trust me he won’t get a third. Flesher? There’s a tag-team loss kicking around from way-back-when that I still remember - plus the fact the guy’s a complete twat.” The Wisconsin crowd find themselves unexpectedly cheering the Brit’s remark, but their attitudes quickly change when he moves on to his next subject. “Dace Night?” “HOR-ROR-CORE!” “HOR-ROR-CORE!” “HOR-ROR-CORE!” “He’s hard... he’s tough... and he’s the guy that I have beaten three times” Toxxic finishes. “Count them - single competition, tag team and six-man tag. Now, from what I hear my fellow Nottingham man Chris Card has taken a shine to Landon Maddix, and is trying to get him into the World Title scene - Card, your dancing one-trick wonder Said couldn’t beat me, and Maddix won’t either. And Landon - no hard feelings, but I suggest you get Megan ready to take care of you for a while if you get in my way.” The Brit is getting into his stride now and starts gesturing with the can, sloshing sugary liquid on the mat. “Danny Williams?” “DAN-E!” “DAN-E!” “DAN-E!” “The guy’s a bloody roid-monkey!” Toxxic yells, “and assuming he doesn’t lose all his hair, tear a few muscles and become infertile in the meantime I will gladly beat his juiced-up backside anytime he cares to take me on! Nathaniel Kibagami, if you can hear me from wherever you are and you’re still in a condition to wrestle, I suggest you think twice about coming at me again! John Duran! I’ve never had the pleasure of your company in this ring, but should you be wanting to approach the World Title again I will take your Notorious Tactics and shove them up your backside until all the alcohol you binged on comes flooding out of your mouth!” “Citizen Toxxic is really taking no prisoners in this tirade, Robert!” Comet comments, sounding slightly shaken by the straight-edger’s vehemence. “I am not scared of anyone!” Toxxic bellows, taking one last swig of Cola before hurling the can out into the crowd. “I will take on anyone and everyone I have to in order to rise to the top, and I will win!. I don’t care how big they are, how small they are - I will wrestle the entire bloody federation if I have to but I will get to the top, and no-one is going-” Suddenly the lights dim and a multitude of light blue lights start flashing on the entrance ramp while ‘Not Today’ by Hotwire starts up. Toxxic stops short in the middle of his sentence and glares daggers at the stage... ...and following closely behind his music comes ‘Hollywood’ Spike Jenkins, wearing his warm-up top and a Petey the Irish Penguin T-shirt! “Spike has heard enough!” Comet declares with approval as the building ERUPTS for someone to save them from Toxxic. “For some reason Spike Jenkins has decided that he cannot tolerate any more of this man’s boasting, and I do believe he’s here to shut him up in spite of the beating that Spike took in that cage at 13th Hour!” “This is brilliant, Comet!” Riley squeals in delight. “Wait until the straight-edger is all riled up, then send out the little stoner! I love it!” *BOOOM!!* White pyros go off on either side of Spike as the man from California starts to bounce, warming himself up for all the world as if he’s about to have a match before making his way down to the ring. He steps through the ropes and spins in a circle as the fans come to their feet, before making his way over to where Funyon stands at ringside and grabbing a microphone of his own from the ring announcer. Spike steps back and pushes his hood back, staring across the ring at the incredulous Toxxic. “SPIKE!” “SPIKE!” “SPIKE!” Hollywood acknowledges the cheers vaguely, but keep his attention on Toxxic as he raises the microphone to his lips. “Y’know man, I didn’t mean to listen in... but you’ve got a hell of a big mouth.” “RRRRRRAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHH!!” “SPIKE-SPIKE-SPIKE-SPIKE!” Toxxic tilts his head to one side, a look of curiosity coming over his face. Spike grins, although not with quite the carefree air that one has come to associate with him. “I mean there I am, minding my own business backstage, when suddenly I hear this gruesome racket - and it turns out to be you, out here, talking crap.” Spike pauses for a minute, then continues. “It’s all very well you threatening those people, but dude - none of them are out here, are they? I mean, I don’t even know where half of them are, some of them might not even be in the damn building, man.” Jenkins raises the mic to continue once more, but Toxxic cuts him off. “If any of them want to find me, they know where I am,” Toxxic tells Hollywood shortly. “Now did you and what’s left of your conscious mind have a point to make? Or are you just going to stand around and waste perfectly good oxygen?” “Yeah, I’ve got a point,” Spike retorts, sounding annoyed. “Man, when I was last around these parts you’d wrestled like, two matches? And then I came back at Battleground and you’re giving it all that in the Tag Match From Hell, winning the ICTV for the what, second time? You leapt right past me dude, like I wasn’t even here.” Spike pauses for a moment. “OK, so I wasn’t here, but that’s not what my point is. My point is; that wouldn’t matter if you weren’t such an asshole.” “SPIKE-SPIKE-SPIKE-SPIKE!” “And since you’re out here saying you’ll face anyone to get to the top, I’m saying why not face me?” Spike goes on. “Those guys you mentioned aren’t around; I am, and I think you’re an asshole. You seem to think you’ve gone past me; I say - let’s find out!” Hollywood gets into Toxxic’s face, squaring up to the straight-edger... but Toxxic’s mouth quirks upwards in his lopsided grin, and he takes a step backwards. “Spike,” the Brit replies, “I’ll give you a warning here. First off,” he holds up a finger “you can’t provoke me because I know it’s the drugs talking, not you.” A thought seems to occur to Toxxic. “...but then again, the drugs are probably smarter than you anyway.” He holds up a second finger. “Secondly, you’re still recovering from your cage match against Johnny Dangerous where you failed to win the Cruiserweight Title, so you’re not exactly on top form. Thirdly, I’m still recovering from the concussion I took through winning my Last Man Standing match with Kibagami...” the straight-edger’s grin grows more pronounced “...so if you push this, I’m going to put you down quick to avoid exerting myself.” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Such arrogance!” Comet gasps. “Such nerve!” “Such sportsmanship!” Riley replies. “He’s giving Spike a fair warning, and it’s more than the little drug-user deserves!” Spike doesn’t seem to feel the same way however, and he steps back up to Toxxic without hesitation. “C’mon dude, what’s the matter?” he asks. “Are you saying that you’re scared of getting hurt?” “There is no possible way that I’d be scared of you,” Toxxic replies, his expression growing bleak. “If you really want to push it, go ahead and say that again.” “I said,” Spike repeats, taking a deep breath, “are you sca-” “HOLD IT!” The voice comes over the PA system, and the owner of it is standing on the entrance stage. Alexander Zenon does not look all that happy - but then again, when does he? “Spike, Toxxic, you cut that out right now!” he orders. “Toxxic; you will get a chance at a title shot as and when I see fit, and that date won’t get any closer by you mouthing off! And Spike, Toxxic is telling the truth - you’re both beat up, and you will not be wrestling on this show!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “The fans in attendance not liking the decision of Commissioner Zenon!” Comet notes as Milwaukee voices its displeasure. “I think they wanted to see Toxxic taken down a peg or two!” “They’re going to have to wait for someone other than Spike to get out here then!” Riley responds. “But that doesn’t mean,” Zenon continues, “that you won’t face each other at all. You will - one-on-one, on Lockdown!” “Lockdown?” Comet asks incredulously. “Ha!” Riley laughs. “Not so cocky now, are we Comet? Not quite so sure that Spike can take Toxxic now we actually have a concrete date!” “Robert, I have every confidence in Citizen Jenkins,” Comet replies as the two men in the ring continue to stare each other down. “This could be Spike’s big break, the occasion where he really makes his mark on the SWF! Just think of the impact it could have if he got a win over Toxxic, one of the most dominant wrestlers around today!” “I’m trying to think that way, but I can’t get my head that far up my ass,” Riley responds. “Although-” “Robert Riley, if you mention Tom Flesher in any way, shape or form I will give you such a smack!!” “...let’s go to commercials then.” COMMERCIAL BREAK! “Hi, my name’s Crow, the SWF’s Antichr- sorry, sorry, the SWF’s Gothic Avian (shutupyouifyouknowwhat’sgoodforyoumate)... and I’m here to tell you about BrightRite lightubes! These dandy little buggers are just great for smashing over the heads of any annoying little masochistic bastards who might by trying to charm your bird, and- WHAT THE FARK DO YOU MEAN I’M NOT MEANT TO SMASH THEM!? AND NO, I WON’T STOP FARKING SWEARING YOU PIECE OF-”

FUCK YOU ALAN CLARK FUCK YOU TO HELL

Jay Dawg is still a jobber.

Mega Man as Terry Funk? Are you kidding? He's more like Hulk Hogan; blue bastard hasn't done anything new since... well, damn. Every year it's the same thing. I mean, the Doctor Wily feud just won't blow off. I remember the Doctor Cossack angle, that COULD have been good. Sigh... and then Doctor X. Nope, both times: "IT WAS ME, MEGA MAN! IT WAS ME ALL ALONG!" God, that higher power bullshit... argh.

Anyone still follow the SFF (Street Fighter Federation)? I know people have gotten bored of it since Ryu has been the champion for.... about... 13 years now, but a lot of the undercard is cool. The tag team of Yun and Yang is pretty hot, reminds me of the Hardy Boyz minus the drug addiction. I just know everyone wants to see Akuma go over the champ, that guy is a fucking hoss and he can go.

I personally can't get enough of Rainbow Six 3.

That finish is FUCKED UP, sirs.

They exist, you know. I have some tracks off a live GGX concert.

...why would you want to? You can use the controller that comes with your system, yes. And you can use the D-Pad. You MIGHT be able to sue the Analog Stick, whether you play on PS2 or Xbox, but by using the stick, you WILL get your ass kicked. The stick doesn't have the precise 8 way movement you need in a fighting game.

The Smartmark's wrestling Federation presents... SWF LOCKDOWN, WEDNESDAY, MAY 19TH, LIVE FROM THE *SOLD OUT* MEMORIAL COLISEUM IN PORTLAND, OREGON! (5:00pm PCT, 8:00pm EST; check local listings) Send marked matches & promos to 5_moves_of_doom Opening Promo: Nathaniel Kibagami is the SWF World Heavyweight champion. He will share his immediate thoughts with us to start the show! MAIN EVENT SINGLES MATCH - FIRST OF FIVE Tom Flesher vs Dace Night Who is the king of the hill? The cream of the crop? Who should be the number one contender? This best of five series will determine it. In the first match, all the rules apply. A win here isn’t the end of the world for the loser, but momentum is a tough thing to turn around... Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 5000 Send To: Grand Slam TAG TEAM TITLES #1 CONTENDERSHIP OVER THE TOP BATTLE ROYAL Alan Clark vs Coy West vs John Duran vs Todd Royal vs Austin Sly vs Jimmy “The Demon” Liston vs Tryst vs Insane Luchadore Tag division’s heating up! The last two men remaining in the ring challenge the In Crowd for the straps! Rules: All men start in the ring at the same time. Eliminations occur when people go over the top rope and BOTH feet touch the ground. Word Limit: 6000 Send To: Thoth CRUISERWEIGHT TITLE #1 CONTENDERSHIP Jacob Hemlsley vs Todd Cortez Todd goes for double gold, but the pipe-wielding maniac could stop him here! Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 5000 Send To: Thoth HARDCORE MATCH Janus vs Crow With the tag titles gone, Janus and Aecas no longer have to see eye to eye. Janus has a lot of aggression built up... and Crow likes making people bleed. Sure, that works. Rules: None to speak of. Word Limit: 4500 Send To: Suicide King USJL CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH Landon Maddix© vs “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins By defeating him in a non-title, making him tap out, Spike Jenkins earns a title shot. Can Spike make it a two-fer? Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 4500 Send To: 5_moves_of_doom SINGLES MATCH Ace Lezaire vs Ryan Dustin Two young bucks (NOT THAT KIND, JANUS) tangle it up here. Someone’s getting a win in their debut match. Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 4000 Send To: Suicide King SINGLES MATCH David Blazenwing vs Toxxic David Blazenwing... is back in the SWF? Yeah. Yeah, he’s back. Amazingly somehow. Toxxic demanded this match to break the returnee in, and he gets it. Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 3500 Send To: Thoth

Clarification on the tag battle royal: Since is it for the tag straps, you may team up with a person and co-write that match. If you do so, please tell me (in your PM) who you teamed with.

The BSU Pavilion lights up as SWF Storm returns from a commercial break, and the fans are already on their feet! The energy in the air is palpable tonight – the crowd is quite literally buzzing as the cameras return to Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley. “I think you’re expecting too much out of them, Comet. The both of them are injury-prone, and they both have a history of drug abuse. It’s amazing that they even make it into the ring nowadays, much less wrestle inside it. I say somebody blows out a shoulder or a knee five minutes in and we all go home early.” “And I would offer that you’re underestimating each man’s desire to win, Bobbi. Citizen Nathaniel has been on the warpath since Battleground, shoving his way into a title scene that’s been turbulent to say the least. Danny Williams has resolved to defend his belt as long as he’s able, and what better way to prove himself than besting the most experienced veteran in the federation in his first defense?” “He could try defending against somebody deserving – somebody like Tom Flesher. Why hasn’t Flesher had a shot at the belt lately?” ”Perhaps because he’s been involved primarily with the women of the fed as of late?” Riley shoots Comet the dirtiest look imaginable – the caped crusader simply beams a smile at the camera. “Let’s go to Funyon, shall we, Bobbi?” The crowd goes berserk as Funyon steps in the ring – they can’t wait to see this main event, and they nearly drown out the man who’s trying to announce it. And as Funyon steps through the ropes, the lights go out. “Ladies and gentlemen...” SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... “The following matchup is scheduled for one fall –“ SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... “And is for the SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP!” RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!! “Introducing first, weighing in at two hundred and sixty-one pounds...” SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... “And hailing from Phoenix, Arizona....” SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... BAM! “NATHANIELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL KIBAGAMI!” Through the bright lights and the wall of smoke comes the River Dragon, a look of complete determination etched on his face as he strides down the ramp towards the ring. He has never been particularly demonstrative towards the fans, but tonight he seems more distant than ever before – his mind is totally focused on the match at hand. For him, this night is fourteen years in the making. “Citizen Nathaniel looks as prepared as I’ve ever seen him!” Comet shouts over the roar of the crowd, but even Riley can barely hear him amidst the din. Kibagami slides under the ropes and climbs onto the turnbuckle, setting off a wave of flash photography as he extends his arms in the familiar crucifix pose. After a moment, the lights come all the way up, and the Silent One climbs down and stalks over to the opposite corner, where he calmly awaits the arrival of the champion. The gentle melodies of In Flames’ “The Jester’s Dance” float out of the speakers as the crowd pops just as loud for the arrival of the World champion. DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E! Williams walks through the curtain with his belt strapped around his waist, looking every bit as purposeful as his challenger. He slowly makes his way down the ramp, head held high, and reaches the ring. He climbs the steps, and as the fans continue to cheer for him, he enters the ring, eyes locked on Kibagami. “The tension in that ring must be unbelievable. These two defenders of justice parallel each other in so many ways...the outcome of this matchup is almost impossible to predict!” “I’ll go with Kibagami on the grounds that he’s been taking steroids longer than Williams. But they’re both off them now, I think, so that gives the advantage to Danny. Unless Zenon doesn’t test as often as Mark does, and that means...damn it, you’re right. We should just flip a coin.” The music fades out, and Danny takes his spot in his corner as Funyon begins his announcement. “Ladies and gentlemen, currently in the ring, from Louisville, Kentucky, and weighing in at 245 pounds, he is the SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION... ‘DEATHWISH’ DANNY WILLIAMSSSSSSSSSSSSS!” Referee Ced Ordonez raises the World title high above his head for all to see – the fans pop even louder at the sight of the belt – before signaling for the bell. DING DING DING! ”And this one’s underway!” The two men approach each other in the center of the ring. DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E! The crowd is split down the middle; the love Williams has for the business has captured the fans’ hearts... SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... but Kibagami’s single-minded drive may very well surpass the champion’s own. The two men respect each other – that much is certain. Neither is completely sure what the other can do. SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... They only know that the other man will give no quarter. DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E! But there is one question in particular that both the wrestlers and the fans need answered: Is it Danny Williams that hits the hardest, or is it Nathaniel Kibagami? BAM! Williams fires the first shot, rocking the challenger with a hard elbow to the jaw! CRACK! Kibagami responds in kind, burying the toe of his boot in the champion’s ribs! BAM! CRACK! BAM! CRACK! “These two are laying into each other, Bobbi!” BAM! CRACK! “Roid rage, Comet – it’s an ugly thing!” BAM! CRACK-CRACK! A hard double kesagiri sends the champion stumbling back, giving Kibagami room to sprint towards the ropes and bound off of them – CRACK! – with a vicious Yakuza kick that sends Danny Williams sprawling to the outside! “And citizen Nathaniel wins the first exchange! I could feel those strikes from here, Bobbi – one can only imagine how focused these two must be to shrug off such massive blows!” ”Percocet, most likely.” ”Hush, Bobbi! Both champion and challenger are models of Justice in Action!” ”That’s a pretty badly flawed model, if you ask me. Does justice always involve hypodermic needles, or are they optional?” ”Call the match, criminal!” On the outside, Williams rises from the mat – just as Kibagami comes flying through the ropes, catching the champion off his guard with a tope! SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... ”Zounds! Such reckless behavior is uncharacteristic of citizen Nathaniel!” ”Maybe he’s hoping for that blown knee I mentioned. Throw all your body weight on the other man and hope for the best – I want to hit the clubs early tonight.” ”Isn’t tonight the Rainbow’s grand re-opening?” ”It is – I mean, is it?” The Silent One regains his feet, only slightly worse for wear, and pulls the champion back up to a vertical base – BAM! BAM! BAM! – only to be staggered by a flurry of elbows from Deathwish! BAM! A hard reverse spinning elbow catches Kibagami in the side of the head and sends him stumbling backwards, leaving him easy prey for Williams – the champion grabs a waistlock and pulls the River Dragon up off his feet and drops him down to the thin mats surrounding the ring with a hard backdrop suplex! “And the champion responds in kind!” notes Riley, resigning himself to calling the match at last. “Williams doesn’t want to become another addition to the recent list of paper champions – he’s going to fight tooth and nail to gain any advantage he can! Kibagami better have more surprises up his sleeve if he wants to go toe-to-toe with Williams.” Williams pulls Kibagami to his feet by the hair and rolls the larger man back into the ring – he’s not giving the Silent one any more time to recover than absolutely necessary. Danny slides into the ring and pushes himself to his feet and immediately tees off on the fallen challenger with his trademark cowboy kicks! CRACK! CRACK! “Citizen Danny returning the favor, it seems!” Kibagami tries to move into the center of the ring, attempting to avoid further abuse – CRACK! – but the champion is nothing if not persistent, and a final kick to the ribs sends the challenger sprawling! ”Danny has a tendency to get rather fired up in big matches like this, and it usually works in his favor – sort of an ‘anything you can do, I can do better’ attitude. As long as he keeps his head about him, he’s going to be very tough to beat.” Williams drops a hard elbow on the back of the challenger’s neck, then pulls the Slaughterer to his feet and sends him barreling across the ring with an Irish whip! Nathaniel bounces off the ropes and comes racing back towards the champion – only to be met with a high dropkick that sends him crashing back to the canvas! Deathwish is quick to hook the leg for the cover – ONE! TWO – Kibagami kicks out, but the champion is undeterred. Grabbing hold of Kibagami’s right leg once again, Danny pulls him up into a high-angled half-crab, placing his left foot on the challenger’s neck for added leverage! ”What a vicious hold that is! Citizen Nathaniel’s neck must be on fire!” ”It’s a smart hold, too – he’s attacking Kibagami’s biggest weakness while chipping away at one of his most potent weapons. Shades of his days with Tom Flesher in the Magnificent Seven, I say.” The crowd adores such disrespect for an opponent’s well-being, of course: DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN– CRACK A sharp kick to the mouth from the Silent One’s free leg sends the champion stumbling back, forcing him to release the hold! Kibagami pushes himself to his feet, visibly angered by the early assault on his neck, and launches into a collar-and-elbow tie-up with Williams! ”An impressive counter from Kibagami, reminding Danny Williams the hard way just how difficult it is to take Silent’s legs out from under him!” ”The two men seem evenly matched thus far, Bobbi. I can’t imagine what it’s going to take for one of them to stay down...” The Slaughterer drives a pair of hard knees into Williams’ gut, knocking the wind out of him long enough for the Silent One to cinch him up and snap him back with a textbook snap suplex! Kibagami deftly floats over into a pin – ONE! TWO – the champion kicks out comfortably, but before he can get his feet under him, the challenger spins to his feet and drives the toe of his boot – CRACK! – squarely into Danny’s ribs, sending him rolling out onto the apron for a breather! ”Citizen Nathaniel won’t be outdone, it seems, answering the champion’s brutal kicks in kind!” ”These two are hardheaded, Comet – both of them habitually try to make the other man wrestle their match, but it just so happens that they both have a very similar approach! They both want to hammer the other man into submission, and neither of them is willing to give an inch!” Danny tries to find his footing on the apron, but the Silent One is already upon him, trying to bring him back in the hard way – Kibagami cinches the champion up for a suplex, but Williams sandbags to prevent it – another hard knee strike from the challenger knocks the wind out of him, though, and the Slaughterer lifts Deathwish up and over...but Danny floats over and lands on his feet, immediately sprinting for the ropes! The challenger turns around to face his opponent – BAM! – and is met instead with a hard jumping elbow, sending him toppling outside! The champion does not pause, despite the admonitions of Ced Ordonez – he sprints back towards the ropes, intent on the man outside the ring. Nathaniel, on the other hand, struggles to regain his feet, trying to clear the cobwebs in his head, but he doesn’t get the chance – he barely has time to register the 243-lb. missile hurtling at him in the form of a Danny Williams elbow suicida! CRASH! Champion and challenger tumble into the barricades – it’s difficult to say which of them is more injured, but Williams is the first to his feet, adjusting his tights and smirking visibly as he pitches the Silent One back into the ring. DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E! “See what I mean, Comet? Danny could’ve played it safe and recuperated in the ring while Kibagami recovered – but anything his challenger does, Williams has to do better. He wants nothing more than to be the Man in the SWF, and with the recent vacuum in the main event, tonight’s his chance to establish himself as the standard!” “A noble goal, of course. Perhaps citizen Danny can cement his status as the federation’s top man tonight – but the Silent One is hardly going to go out without a fight!” Back in the ring, Williams pulls Kibagami into the center of the canvas and tenaciously reapplies the half-crab, cranking back on the hold to put as much pressure on the neck as possible. Kibagami begins clawing his way towards the ropes – he knows the champion will be expecting another kick, and rather than offer him the opportunity to sink in a Boston crab, the Silent One wisely fights his way to the ropes. ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! Deathwish breaks the hold just before the referee reaches the five-count, obviously displeased with his inability to do more damage with it. Frustrated, he pulls the challenger to his feet – only to be snapped down to the mat by a sudden armdrag! Kibagami maintains his hold on Williams’ right arm and hastily shifts around, and suddenly the champion finds himself on the wrong end of a cross armbreaker! “Zounds! Just like that, the momentum shifts in favor of citizen Nathaniel!” The crowd is chomping at the bit – they know just how deadly the Silent One’s submissions can be. Fortunately for the champion, he’s still close to the ropes – even with the searing pain in his arm, Deathwish has the presence of mind to scramble to safety, hooking the bottom rope with his leg and forcing a break. ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! Kibagami reluctantly breaks the hold at Ordonez’s behest, leaving the champion to cradle his right arm to his chest as he pushes himself to his feet. “A quick reversal of fortune by Kibagami – Williams may want to reconsider his game plan and work towards the neck more frequently. You don’t want to be establishing yourself or sending messages to others when you’re in the ring with the Slaughterer – you do whatever’s necessary to win, and then you get the hell out of dodge.” ”Bobby, I must say, I’m impressed with your professionalism thus far.” ”It’s really nothing, Comet. Every time the crowd cheers for something these junkies do to each other, I just picture one of them in the Superior Stretch – it gives me the will to go on.” The challenger attempts to whip his opponent across the ring, but the champion reverses – BAM! – into a vicious elbow strike! CRACK! And Kibagami responds with a harsh kick to the thigh! BAM! DAN-E! DAN-E! CRACK! DAN-E! DAN-E! “Here we go again!” BAM! SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... CRACK! “God, this is ugly.” BAM! SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... CRACK! BAM! The River Dragon spins backwards, looking to deliver another series of kesagiri chops, but the champion deftly hooks his arms around the challenger’s neck and falls back, wrapping his legs around Kibagami’s waist and cinching in a doushime sleeper! The Silent One tries to roll towards the ropes, but only succeeds in rolling onto his stomach before Deathwish manages to stop his progress! ”The champion hooks in a doushime sleeper, and the tides of battle have shifted yet again!” ”That doushime sleeper was a favorite of Judge Mental, who actually scored a victory over the Grappler with it several months ago. Properly applied, it’s nothing to sneeze at, as I’m sure Kibagami could tell you.” Comet looks slack-jawed at his companion. “...Bobbi, why is it you can’t be so topical every other day of the year?” Riley snorts. “Because every other day of the year, Flesher is in the main event, and I don’t have to try and keep things interesting.” Kibagami crawls slowly towards the ropes – despite Danny’s best efforts, he’s not in a position to halt the River Dragon’s progress; he can only cinch the sleeper in tighter and hope it’s enough to halt the challenger... ...but it isn’t – Nathaniel drapes one arm over the ropes to a tremendous round of applause! ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! Deathwish breaks the hold and immediately pulls the Silent One up to his feet – Ordonez attempts to force a break of sorts, but then thinks the better of getting between the two opponents as Williams sends Kibagami across the ring with an Irish whip, catching him on the way back with a hard neckbreaker drop! The champion immediately pulls the challenger up to a sitting position, trying to hook the Stretch Plum on, but Kibagami struggles valiantly against the hold – BAM! BAM! – but two sharp elbow strikes to the back of the head stun him long enough for Danny to hook the facelock and twist sharply to the left, torquing the Slaughterer’s neck and ribs! ”Citizen Danny locks in the Stretch Plum – a favorite submission of his! The champion seems to be wearing citizen Nathaniel down slowly and methodically!” ”Kibagami has been matching him in the striking department, so Williams is taking his openings as they come to him. Nathaniel can only power his way out of so many holds before they start to take a toll on him – Danny’s just wearing him down and opening him up for his bigger moves.” “ASK HIM!” shouts Williams as he cranks back on the hold, and Ordonez obliges, only to be met by a fierce “NO!” from the River Dragon. Undaunted, the champion cranks back on the hold even harder – just because his challenger isn’t submitting doesn’t mean he isn’t hurting. Kibagami continues to struggle against it, but he’s got next to no leverage, and he slowly starts to fade. SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... The fans attempt to revive Kibagami to no avail; Deathwish abruptly releases the hold and shoves Kibagami to the mat, pinning his shoulders... ONE! TWO! THR – NO! The Silent One kicks out, sending the Idaho crowd into a frenzy! The fans are split evenly down the middle – dueling chants for Deathwish and the Silent One echo throughout the arena as the champion pulls Kibagami up to his feet and whips him towards the ropes, only to have Kibagami reverse the whip and – BAM! – FLOOR Danny Williams with a skull-cracking Burning Lariat! The River Dragon nearly collapses onto the champion as he drops to the mat for the pin! ONE! TWO! THREE! NO! Undeterred, the challenger hauls the champion up to his feet and grabs hold of Danny’s right arm before taking him back down to the mat with a single-arm DDT! “Kibagami wisely going after that right arm of Danny’s – Danny tends to rely on those elbows to lead into everything else in his arsenal; take those away and you’ve practically won the match outright.” ”I wouldn’t write the champion off quite that easily, Bobbi...” Nathaniel pulls Williams up to his feet once again and whips him towards the ropes – “It seems to me that it would be just as difficult to injure the champion’s arm...” – and Deathwish reverses – “...as it is to injure the challenger’s legs!” BAM! – into a tremendous elbow strike to the side of the River Dragon’s head! Nathaniel staggers back towards the ropes, and Danny spins towards him before – BAM! – knocking the challenger out of the ring with a vicious rolling elbow! DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E! “The champion floors citizen Nathaniel with a rolling elbow, sending him out to the floor in the process!” ”Quite the lucky break for Kibagami – that’s the move that put John Duran out cold on Lockdown. Danny might’ve had his first defense in the bag if he’d hit that in the center of the ring.” Deathwish follows the Silent One to the outside – he’s visibly frustrated to see Kibagami outside the ring; perhaps Riley was right. The champion pulls the challenger into a standing headscissors, looking to score with his powerbomb while the Slaughterer is out on his feet, but Nathaniel springs to life, pulling himself away from the headscissors and ramming his shoulder into Danny’s gut, driving the champion back into the ring apron! “It seems a little too early for such a momentum-shifting maneuver – citizen Nathaniel deftly counters the powerbomb!” Williams is stunned, the wind driven out of him, and Kibagami rolls him back into the ring. The Slaughterer slides back in and rises to his feet, pulling the champion up with him – BAM! – and rocking Williams with a sharp elbow to the jaw! A collective “OOOO!” goes up from the crowd; the strike is roughly equivalent to a slap in the face, a challenge to do better, and the champion responds the best way he knows how – CRACK! – with a sharp kick to Kibagami’s thigh! BAM! “These two are getting into it now, Bobby!” CRACK! “Danny has to be careful not to let his emotions get the best of him –“ BAM! “While he’s in there with one of the most manipulative men to ever grace the SWF...” Danny fires off another cowboy kick, intent on beating some respect into the challenger, but Kibagami catches the blow and pulls the champion in towards him, trapping Danny’s leg against his chest, before sending Deathwish flying into the middle of the ring! with a tremendous capture suplex! ”And that’s why! The Silent One suckered Danny right into that one!” Williams tries to struggle to his feet and ignore the pain in his back, but the Slaughterer is already on top of him – he pulls the champion up and into a modified waistlock, reaching around to trap Danny’s leg against his own chest once again before bridging back and spiking Williams with a cradle suplex! SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... Kibagami releases his hold on Williams – that damnable bridge still eludes him – and twists around, jackknifing the champion’s legs over his head and pinning his shoulders to the mat. ONE! TWO! THREE! NO! “Such magnificent resilience from citizen Danny!” DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E! “Danny Williams wants to be the Man, Comet – and the Man overcomes the odds no matter what. It’s going to take more than a suplex or two to keep him down for the three while he’s got that title around his waist.” The Silent One pulls the champion up to his feet – BAM! BAM! – and is met with a pair of elbows! Williams fires off a third, looking to press his advantage, but Kibagami catches the blow, grabs hold of Danny’s arm, and whips him over his shoulder with a hard ippon seionage throw! Nathaniel keeps his grip on the arm and locks in another cross armbreaker – Deathwish instinctively looks to hook the bottom rope with his boot, but he’s too far away! ”Cross armbreaker from the challenger, and Danny Williams is in trouble! If Kibagami can hold on long enough, he can put a serious dent in the champion’s offense – Deathwish does everything with that right arm!” Comet only stares at Riley, who blinks innocently. “What? What did I say now?” Danny thrashes wildly towards the ropes, trying to pull Kibagami’s 261 pounds along with him without hyper extending his elbow – the Silent One pulls back as hard as he can, but it’s not enough to keep the champion from finally hooking the ropes! ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! The challenger rolls away and up to his feet just before Ordonez reaches five, but the damage has already been done; Williams clutches at his right arm as he rises from the mat, and Kibagami is quick to zero in on it with a hard snap kick! CRACK! BAM! BAM! BAM! Deathwish snaps off three sharp elbows to the face in response, and they drive the stunned challenger back – Williams rushes in with a lariat, but Kibagami ducks it – BAM! – only to fall to the mat like a stone as Danny connects with a hard enzui lariat to the back of his head! “A devastating counter from citizen Danny, and he seems to have the challenger on the ropes!” ”Not necessarily, Comet – Williams may have done more harm than good by swinging that right arm about so freely.” Williams drops to the mat and tries to pull his opponent onto his back with his good arm, but Kibagami is simply too heavy. His eyes are a little glassy; he’s moving more on instinct right now, having had little time to recover from Kibagami’s suplexes. The grimace on the champion’s face tells all too well how much abuse has been inflicted on his right arm; the toll it takes on Danny to simply roll the challenger over seems to bode poorly for him. ONE! TWO! THREE! NO! ”The River Dragon kicks out, but one has to wonder how much he owes to Danny’s shortsightedness – that enzui lariat seems to have done more to aggravate his own condition than it did to slow Kibagami down!” Williams pulls the Slaughterer up into a standing headscissors and wraps his arms around Kibagami’s waist, looking to connect with the powerbomb that has won him so many matches. The crowd starts to buzz amongst themselves as Deathwish strains against Nathaniel’s weight and his own injured arm, trying in vain to lift the River Dragon from the mat. “The champion is looking to put citizen Nathaniel away with his patented powerbomb!” ”If he can, Comet. I can’t tell whether that arm of his is giving him more trouble than Kibagami’s sandbagging, but it’s doubtful that he’ll be able to overcome both unless Kibagami blunders his way into the powerbomb on his own!” As the words leave Riley’s mouth, the champion heaves... “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” ...and goes sailing overhead as the River Dragon backdrops out of the powerbomb attempt! The crowd whips themselves into a frenzy as Danny shakily rises to his feet and turns around into a hard knee to the gut that doubles him over – the Silent One applies a standing headscissors and lifts him with little resistance, spreading Williams’ arms out at the apex of the move... SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... WHAM! ONE! ”FALL FROM GRACE!” TWO! THREE! NO! DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E! “Citizen Danny kicks out of the Fall From Grace, and this crowd is on their feet! Words cannot do justice to the sound of this arena, ladies and gentlemen – these two men have totally captured the attention of eighteen thousand people!” ”They certainly have. Do you see what happens when the front office leaves Flesher off the card?” ”The people are happy?” ”...no, they...that’s not...goddamn it!” The River Dragon remains calm in the face of adversity – Williams may have kicked out of one finisher, but that simply means that there are two more he’ll have to get through. The Silent One roughly hauls the champion to his feet and cinches in a waistlock, preparing for the Rough Redemption. He lifts Danny up and begins to rotate...but Deathwish slides out of his grasp and lands behind him! Kibagami has only a moment to realize his error before he finds himself lifted up and backwards... WHAM! ...into the canvas with an ugly Dangerous Backdrop! DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E! The River Dragon lies motionless on his stomach, and Danny Williams crawls towards him, intent on pinning his shoulders to the mat and ending this hellish match! “Good gracious! That may be all for citizen Nathaniel – his fragile neck can’t possibly hold up after such a brutal maneuver!” Deathwish tries to turn Kibagami onto his back, but the Slaughterer is dead weight – it takes a long, long moment for the champion to shove the challenger onto his back with his good arm and hook the leg for what should be the academic pin. ONE! TWO! THREE! NO! “How did he kick out of that?!?” shouts Riley, and Danny Williams shares his sentiments – the ring mics don’t pick up his heated exchange with Ced Ordonez, but one can certainly infer the subject of discussion. SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... The crowd is livelier than ever, now – it’s going to take something extra to end this match, and they can sense it just as well as the champion can. Deathwish pulls a near-unconscious Kibagami up to his feet, intent on ending the match, but the River Dragon surprises him with a sharp knee to the gut! Williams doubles over – CRACK! – and jumps back as Kibagami brings his boot into the side of the champion’s head – CRACK! “Gamengiri from the Silent One, and the champion is down!” yells Cyclone Comet as Williams topples to the canvas. Both men lie motionless, trying to catch their respective breath, as Ordonez begins to administer the count... ONE! DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E! TWO! SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... THREE! ”These men have thrown almost everything they’ve got at each other!” FOUR! ”Something has to give soon, Bobbi! They can’t keep this pace up much longer!” FIVE! DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E! SIX! SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... SEVEN! DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E! EIGHT! SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... NINE! Danny Williams is the first to his feet, and he charges towards Kibagami looking for a running elbow, but the Slaughterer manages to dodge out of the way! The champion stops himself at the turnbuckles and whips back towards the center of the ring, intent on catching the challenger by surprise with a lariat, but the Silent One is ready and waiting – he takes Deathwish down to the mat with a Fujiwara armbar! ”Citizen Danny’s recklessness works against him once again! That right arm of his must be practically useless by now, and he’s running out of weapons to use against his challenger!” A shout of rage and frustration escapes the champion as he claws his ways back towards the ropes. ONE! TWO! THREE! The Silent One hangs onto the injured limb like a pitbull – FOUR! FI – – only releasing the hold when he absolutely must! Ordonez tries to force a clean break so he can check on Danny’s condition, but the Slaughterer has no time for such niceties – he brusquely pushes his way past the referee, intent on pressing the wounded Williams. Kibagami reaches down to pull the champion up to his feet, but Deathwish abruptly shoves the River Dragon away – Williams begins firing off elbow strikes with his damaged right arm – CRACK! – but a sharp kick from the Silent One quickly puts a stop to them! CRACK-CRACK! Another double kesagiri staggers the champion long enough for Kibagami to lift him for a scoop slam...but he quickly shifts Williams around into position for a tombstone piledriver, keeping his arm cradled as he drives Deathwish down onto his unprotected skull! THUD! “RIOT OF THE BLOOD!” hollers Comet, and the crowd explodes as Williams falls to the mat – they can sense that the end is near, and they know exactly how this match will end... SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... ...at least, they think they do. The challenger drags the fallen champion away from the ropes and a little closer to the center of the ring before turning away – he knows that the piledriver will keep Williams in place long enough for what he has in mind – and beginning to climb the turnbuckles. The fans begin to buzz, their chants interrupted; Kibagami doesn’t go to the top rope often, and most of them are confused by it. “What the hell is he doing? All those elbows must’ve scrambled his brain – this isn’t the time for high-risk maneuvers!” ”Citizen Nathaniel seems to have a plan, Bobbi, and he has the match well in hand at the moment...what could he be planning?” Nathaniel Kibagami reaches the top rope, and looks out at the fans for the briefest of moments. He has no time to acknowledge them – Williams could move at any moment. Doubt eats at him for a split-second, but as he backflips off the turnbuckle, he knows that he has won. The Silent One spirals down to Earth. WHAM! “YEAR OF THE DRAGON!” The crowd roars, but he barely hears them. ONE! What matters now – TWO! Is the count – THREE! RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!! DING DING DING! “HE DID IT!” shouts Comet, and the entire arena is on their feet – Ordonez helps Kibagami to his feet and raises his arm in victory – nearly drowning out Nevermore and Funyon together with their applause, their cheers, and their ever-present chant. “Your winner by pinfall...and NEW SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION....NATHANIEL “SILENT” KIBAGAMI!” ”I’ll be damned. He really won it. That’s three new champions in three weeks. Ridiculous.” Riley does his best to sound smug and resigned, but there’s a hint of something else in his voice – even he has to concede that Nathaniel Kibagami has finally earned his place. Danny Williams rolls out of the ring; two nearby ring attendants help him to his feet. For all his courage, all his heart, tonight he has come up against an obstacle that simple willpower cannot overcome. Many men might wear the title that was around his waist this evening, but only one of them can be The Man. Perhaps another time, another place, Danny Williams may finally climb to the top of the mountain. But tonight is not that night – could not have been that night. Funyon straps the World title around Kibagami’s waist, and the Silent One immediately makes his way to the turnbuckle. It takes him a moment to get there – his head is ringing from all the elbows – but he slowly makes his way to the top and extends his arms in the crucifix pose that has become familiar to so many. The belt seems to belong around his waist; he carries it well. There is no reminder to watch Lockdown to close the show tonight. There is simply a shot of Kibagami standing triumphant after fourteen years, the most prestigious prize in the business wrapped around his waist. It is high time.

SWF Storm fades in on a shot of Interim Commissioner Alex Zenon’s office. Zenon sits at his desk, and the camera is trained on him. “So what you’re trying to tell me,” he says, “is that you think you’ve got a case for the number-one contendership.” The camera pulls back to show Tom Flesher, wearing a white t-shirt with a blue ringer underneath a matching dark denim-jacket-and-jeans set. “I don’t think you can spin it any other way, Alex,” he says with a smirk. “Look at the main event tonight. It’s bad enough that your top man doesn’t have any crossover appeal… he’ll tell you himself… and I really have to question the wisdom of parading around an obvious steroid user for the world to see, especially in the wake of the Olympic doping scandals that got Alexander Leipold, CJ Hunter and Andreea Raducan stripped of their gold medals in 2000. But the guy who’s challenging him isn’t just fragile, he’s a psychopath. Why would you want a man who nearly crippled one of our top crossover stars representing the company?” “And you think giving you a title match under highly favorable circumstances is the way to deal with that,” Zenon says with raised eyebrows. “You don’t have to make it favorable, Alex,” Flesher says. “No matter who wins tonight, I’m ahead of the game. I’ve been putting Williams on his back since we debuted down south, and Kibagami tapped when I faced him. All I want is to be declared the #1 contender and get my shot.” “Well, Tom, you make an interesting case,” says Zenon dryly, “but I have to tell you… I have another visitor scheduled. Don’t worry, you can stay.” Zenon presses the buzzer on his desk and says, “Kristen, can you send in my next appointment?” Flesher looks over to the door, where a stitched-up Dace Night stands. “Dace, pleasure to see you this evening.” Flesher scowls. “What’s this all about?” “Well,” says Zenon, “it seems to me that Dace made a very good point a few nights ago when you made the same argument I just heard. You get a title shot every time you turn around, but for all his work, Dace has barely been in the same room as the World Title.” “Then I can make him my first defense,” says Flesher sourly. “Not quite,” Zenon says. “Neither of you has done anything worthy of a title shot recently. You beat Duran on the downturn in a match that we might as well have called ‘Flesher in a Cell,’ and you,” he says, looking at Dace, “beat Spike and Crow in a tables match. But…” he sighs. “Listen, I’ll cut to the chase. You’re fighting for the #1 contendership.” Dace grins, but Flesher glares. “Oh, sure. You give Night a chance to upset me?” “No, Tom,” says Zenon. “Whoever wins this match is going to have to win three times to get it. You’re going to have a best-of-five series, and the winner is the #1 contender to the SWF World Championship. And,” he says, as Flesher starts to object, “the stipulations change every night. Now, can I trust that neither of you has a problem with that?” Flesher scowls and says, “I don’t understand why you’re making me beat this tool just to get back to a belt I’ve held twice.” “Because, Tom, you’re not as good as you think you are. Like it or not, Dace Night has as good a chance to win this as you do, and you damn well better bring your workboots if you want a shot at that belt.” The camera pulls away as the telecast fades into the card description.

Message Forwarded From Dace59 The sold out BSU Pavilion is packed full of fans all the way down to the floor, around the security railings. The ever present sea of signs and banners are found all over the crowd, including a huge 3 row high graph of Kibagami and Williams, set for the World Title Match. A “TOXXIC GOT DEPUSHED LOL OMGWTF2K4!!” has been lovingly hand written by one fan in the third row. Above the ring, the steel cage is slowly lowered into position, locking over the ring apron to two people in and everyone else out. Opening the door, Referee Hardcastle steps through the ropes to the inside of the cage as Funyon stands outside on the floor. Comet: Welcome back to SWF Storm Citizens. What a night we’ve had here infront of this fantastic Idaho crowd! We’ve seen a great opening Hardcore Match, the Cruiserweight Title has been on the line on a triple threat match and we’ve just seen an interesting tag team match to say the least. Riley: Well Comet, if people insist on falling about with Janus, this was bound to happen in the end. He’s not to blame. You know who to blame? Kibagami, that’s who! He must have cheated to beat Toxxic to get a shot at the World Title. And now… Zed’s taken Toxxic off the card so he couldn’t kick Dace Night’s ass! Comet: Robert, Citizen Toxxic was removed from the card because he was declared to be completely unfit to wrestle after that Demonstar just a few days ago. Citizen Stryke will be a fine replacement for this match up. It’s a big opportunity for him after all. Riley: As long as Dace doesn’t play his usual tricks and choke the poor guy out, or bring weapons into the cage. Still, a win will prove to all these stupid people that Stryke can bring the goods and that Dace Night is just a hack. Funyon: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest will be a no escape, pinfalls only cage match… Yyyyyyyyaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh! Funyon: Introducing first, from Sydney Australia, he weighs in at two hundred and nineteen pounds … STRYKE! Bbbbbbbboooooooooooooooooooooo! ‘How Could I Just Kill A Man?’ kicks into life over the arena as Stryke stands at the top of the ramp, just waving on the crowds jeering. Strutting down the entrance ramp, he stops off to steal a fan’s beer and swig it back before tossing the empty cup back at him. Sliding through the cage door, the Aussie half scales the cage, balancing on the top rope and holding on with one hand. Shaking the cage like an animal, Stryke yells at the crowd and flips with them off with his free hand before hopping back to the mat. Jawing a few words at Hardcastle, Stryke ignoring the booing crowd as he paces around the cage, flexing a little as he goes. Funyon: And his opponent, weighing in at two hundred and fifty two pounds, from Birmingham England, he is … DACE… FUCKING! Funyon: NIGHT! Rrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Hero rips into life over the PA system as the ramp is covered in a hail of sparks from the blasts of white pyro. As smoke clouds up the entranceway, Dace Night steps out onto the ramp. Waving at the cheering crowd, Dace paces down the ramp, half running, high fiving people as he goes past. Making a circle of the ring on the outside, Dace stares into the cage at Stryke as he climbs the ring steps. Moving through the door into the cage, Dace shoots a look over his shoulder as the door is locked shut behind him. Comet: And that cage door is locked. Just like Citizens Duran and Flesher, there’s no getting out of that cage until the match is over. And if that match up was anything to go by, the ring is going to be covered in blood after this one. Riley: Only because that’s one of the few ways Dace can pop the fans Comet. I bet he’ll bump off it as well. Now Stryke, that man as an exciting style, he knows what to do in the ring. Another reason why to like Australians. DING, DING, DING! Waving his arm for the opening bell, Hardcastle steps away as Dace and Stryke move towards each other. Stryke makes up for being thirty pounds lighter by dancing around Night, forcing him to move around the ring in circle looking for an opening. Extending one hand, the Aussie leans forwards, as if for an lock up, but as soon as Night moves in, he leaps away and flips off the Hardcore Goth. Growling, Dace charges forwards, trying to hound Stryke down into a lock up, but once against Stryke leaps away and waves him on. Bbbbbbbboooooooooo! STRYKE SUCKS! STRYKE SUCKS! STRYKE SUCKS! STRYKE SUCKS! Comet: Citizen Stryke is just playing cat and mouse tease offs right here. I think he’s looking to show he can out pace Dace and juts to rile him up before he sets to work. Riley: Make him angry, that’s a smart plan. Come on Stryke, just pin this lumbering oaf quickly. This time, Dace swings his leg out and knees the Aussie in the ribs as he tries to edge in again. Grabbing the flying Aussie by the head, Dace spins on one heel and charges towards the nearest side of the ring. Launching Stryke forwards, Horrorcore tries to ram his head into the steel mesh of the cage, but Stryke sticks out a boot against the ropes to stop it. With his face just an inch or two from the steel, Stryke sends a frantic back elbow into Night’s mid section and quickly spins around, clamping on a Front Facelock. Kicking his legs out backwards, Stryke scales the ropes behind him and pushes off the cage wall for a Tornado DDT… Bbbbbbbbbboooooooooo…… Only to have Night power him down onto his feet and lock his arms. Shifting his weight, Dace tries to snap his body backwards and launch the flying Aussie into the cage with a Northern Lights Suplex. But Stryke sees it coming from the Flesher/Duran cage match and slams his forearm across Night’s back, once, twice, three times. The force of the blows causes Dace’s vice like grip to loosen up, just enough for Stryke to force his way free and back into a proper Front Facelock. Grabbing a handful of Dace’s tights, he tries to take him over with a quick Snap Suplex to make some breathing room. But Horrorcore out manoeuvres him and wraps his leg around Stryke’s to block toe move. Muscling Stryke backwards, Dace hauls him up for a Suplex of his own, leaving the Aussie hanging upside down in mid air. But even upside down, Stryke has the speed advantage as he kicks his legs and twists his body weight, gracefully dropping to the mat behind Dace. Stryke grabs onto a Rear Waistlock on wrestling instinct, but Dace kicks off the mat and throws all his weight backwards… SMACK! Ooooooooohhhhhhhhhhh! Comet: Citizen Night just sandwiched Citizen Stryke between himself and that cage wall! After blocking a Tornado DDT and a Suplex, only to have one of his own reversed, Dace just out powered Stryke. Riley: Yer, but John Duran tried to out power Tom Flesher and look where that go him. And Dace Night is no Duran. All it’s going to take is one of those cage assisted moves like Stryke just went for to end this mach. Comet: But he has to hit one of those moves first Riley and that’s not going to be easy with Dace around. Before the Aussie can recover from the impact against the unforgiving steel, Night twists around and hammers an elbow into his temple. Almost headlocking Stryke, Dace barrels across the ring at full tilt, slamming the smaller man head first into the cage wall at full speed… SMACK! Rrrrrrraaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh! Slumping for a moment, Stryke almost stick to the cage like it’s fly paper before toppling backwards to the mat with a helpful shove from Dace. The Hardcore Goth dives on him in an instant, cradle up a leg to make a cover as Hardcastle slides down onto the mat to make the fall… ……ONE! Kickout! Bbbbbbbbbooooooooooooooooo! LET’S GO DACE! LET’S GO DACE! LET’S GO DACE! Comet: Once again Dace uses this cage like a weapon, and that’s how you win a match like this. Riley: See, no wrestling at all from this man. Stryke’s having to bring it all. And tell me Comet, what happens when Stryke counters these vile cage shots? Hmmmmm? Sitting up to his knees, Dace regards Stryke for just a second before gritting his teeth and grabs the flying Aussie by the arm. Planting first one then another knee into Stryke’s face as he falls him up, Dace keeps a tight grip, not letting him go anywhere as he clamps on a Waistlock. Easily hauling over all two twenty of the flyer’s frame in a Gut Wrench Suplex, Dace slams him into the mat before floating straight over into another quick cover… ……ONE! ……Kickout! Bbbbbbbbbbbooooooooooooo! Riley: Hah, Dace can’t even get a two count on Stryke yet. That just shows you don’t have to be some insane ultraviolent brawler to be tough in wrestling. Standing back up, Dace brings Stryke along with him, hold on like a dog on a leash. Forcing him into a Standing Headscissors, Night wastes no time in locking his arms around the Aussie’s mid section, but even as he does so, Stryke struggles to stand up. Slowly but surely tipping Dace over his back, at his full height, Stryke looks behind him to see Dace laying on the mat like a drop sack of potatoes. Grabbing the top rope, Stryke just rains in a hail of stomps and kicks to Dace’s head as he struggles to his feet. Mockingly waving for the crowd, Stryke lets Dace roll away for a few paces before springing to the middle rope. Kicking off the cage for extra bounce, Stryke goes flying through the air just as Dace stands up and cannons into him with a Springboard Dropkick that sends him straight back to the mat. Rrrrrrrraaaaaaahhhhhhh! Swinging his body over, Stryke moves his weight across Night’s shoulders to make a cover of his own… ……ONE! ……TWO! Kickout! Yyyyyyyaaaaahhhhhhhh! Flipping off the crowd as they cheer for Dace, Stryke keeps his cool and takes to the air again, dropping his weight back first into Night’s chest with a Senton Splash. Rolling over and back to his feet, Stryke springs into the air and drops a leg across Night’s throat. With a mocking grin on his face, the flying Aussie waves t the fans before slowly hauling Dace back to his feet. With a careful Facelock, Stryke twisted around, cradling Dace’s head against his shoulder before falling back to the mat with a Neckbreaker. Comet: Stryke is keeping the pressure on Dace here, using that Neckbreaker to keep him down. He’s probably setting up another flying assault to try and keep Night down for the three count. Riley: Just like other matches, Stryke is thinking out side of the box and using the cage to his advantage. Dace has nowhere to hide from his aerial assaults. Hoping backwards onto the second turnbuckle, the flying Aussie uses the cage to pull himself up to the top rope. Perching like an eagle about to dive down onto it’s pray, Stryke stays still, watching Dace as Horrorcore stumbling back up to his feet, holding for neck for a moment. Leaping form the turnbuckles, Stryke flies through the air and drills both boots into the back of Night’s head with an Enzui-Dropkick. SMACK! Pitching forwards like a tree, Night thuds into the mat, holding the back of his head and shaking for a second before laying still. Looking down and smirking as he rolls Dace over, Stryke gives him a middle finger before dropping down to make a cover… STRYKE SUCKS! STRYKE SUCKS! STRYKE SUCKS! STRYKE SUCKS! ……ONE! ……TWO! ……TWO AND A QUARTER! ……Kickout! Oooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Comet: Huge Missile Dropkick to the back of the head from Citizen Stryke, he looks like he’s got Citizen Dace on the run right now. Signalling by swinging his finger in the air, the Aussie drags the Hardcore Goth up to his feet and slaps his straight across the face. Not letting Dace get fired up, Stryke clamps down on his with suffocating Front Facelock. With a quick hop, Stryke makes it onto the second rope, leaning forwards on the Facelock to balance himself and add in even more pressure to the hold. Another well practiced leap has Stryke in the air and kicking off the cage. Twisting his weight around like a snake, the Flying Aussie cuts through the air and plummets back to the mat, dragging Dace over with him. Before Dace even has a chance to counter, his head slams into the canvas from a huge cage assisted Tornado DDT. Once again, Stryke twists himself over, rolling Dace over and dropping straight into a cover across his shoulders. Ooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! ……ONE! ……TWO! ……TWO AND A QUARTER! ……TWO AND A HALF! …… TWO .. KICKOUT! Yyyyyyyyyyyaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Riley: Come on Stryke, you’ve got this lumbering sod on the ropes. He can’t take another one of those cage assisted DDTs. Look at Dace, he’s probably punch drunk as it. Comet: Well Robert, that may be, but this Dace Night we’re talking about. And while Stryke might have the advantage now, Dace is tough to say the least. Citizen Stryke needs to keep up the pace is he wants to win. Scowling as a slams the heel of his boot into Night’s head, Stryke slowly hauls him back to his feet before planting a fist in his face for good measure. Returning to the Front Facelock once again, Stryke doesn’t pause this time, hooking Dace’s leg as he starts to struggle. Snapping his body sideways like he’s been shot, Stryke nails Dace into the mat with a Swinging Fisherman’s. As Dace lays on the mat, barely twitch, the Aussie bounds across the ring and scrambles up to the top rope again. Glancing down to check Dace hasn’t made a frantic roll to safety, Stryke takes to the air yet again, flying through it like a cannon ball, extending his leg. Dropping all of his weight leg first across Night’s throat, Stryke watches his body shake and spasms from the shock before leaning sideways into a cover… ……ONE! ……TWO! ……TWO AND A QUARTER! ……TWO AND A HALF! ……KICKOUT! Rrrrrrraaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Yelling at Hardcastle about the count, Stryke spits on Dace and slams his boot into the prone Horrorcore over and over. Shoving Hardcastle out of the way as he races into the corner, Stryke springs to the top rope, looking down into the ring, seeing Dace trying to roll over and get away from the onslaught. Wasting no more time, the flying Aussie dives again, spreading his body out for maximum impact with his All Time High Frog Splash. Coming crashing down with all his weight, Stryke makes the biggest possible impact he can… on the ring canvas… THUD! Ooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhh! Comet: FROG SPLASH! HE MISSED! Citizen Stryke went to follow up that Top Rope Leg Drop with a Frog Splash to put Dace away but he missed! This could be Citizen Night’s chance to get back in the game! Riley: No, damn it! See, just because that freak gets hit with chairs all the time, he get lucky and dodges one lousy Frog Splash. Come on Stryke, your fresh, you can make it back up first. All that nailing Dace in the head will have done something! LET’S GO DACE! LET’S GO! LET’S GO DACE! LET’S GO! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! The arena whips itself into a frenzy as Dace and Stryke struggle to climb back to their feet. Stryke holds his ribs his one arm as he pushes himself back up, while Dace sits up at rubs the back of is head before slowly rising to his feet. Staggering forwards, the flying Aussie goes straight back to the attack and hold onto his advantage. But Coming head to head again, even after Stryke’s flying assaults, Dace still has more cards to play. A boot to the mid section doubles Stryke over in pain before an elbow cracks off either side of his head. Surging forwards, Dace burries his knee into Stryke’s chest three times, nearly breaking the smaller man in half. A final elbow to the face from Horrorcore leaves Stryke wobbling and almost pitching into the mat, but Dace grabs his arm and launches him hard into the nearest turnbuckles. Backing up along the ropes, holding the for support as his head slowly clearing, Night glares across the ring, measure up his target. Rushing forwards like a rhino, Night throws all two hundred and fifty pounds behind his boot as it hammers into the side of Stryke’s face like a meteor and crushes his head against the side of the steel cage. SSMMMAAACCCKK! Yyyyyyyyyaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! DACE! DACE! DACE! DACE! DACE! DACE! Yelling out at the impact, Dace grins for just a second before setting his face again, feeling the fog lifting further and further from his mind. Reaching down and scooping up Stryke like he weighs almost nothing, the Hardcore Goth holds him across his chest and steps backwards out of the corner. With the Aussie across his chest, Dace pitches his body backwards, throwing his arms overhead and releases Stryke into the air and down onto the mat with a Blockbuster Suplex. Sitting back up, Dace has to hold is head for just a moment before scrambling over to Stryke and dropping over him to make a cover… Comet: YAKUZA KICK INTO THE CAGE! Citizen Night fights back head to head and proves he can still take it to Stryke like that! Riley: Aww damn it. Come on Stryke, use the Half and Half to beat him at his own game! ……ONE! ……TWO! ……TWO AND A QUARTER! ……TWO AND A …KICKOUT! Bbbbbbbbbbboooooooooooooooooooooo! Slamming his fist into the ring canvas, frustration showing across his face, Night snarls as he wrenches Stryke up from the mat like a rag doll. Not even pausing to make it a smooth motion, Dace launches him into the ropes and the side of the cage like he’s trying to throw Stryke through the steel. As the Aussie ricochets off the steel and the ropes, Night sweeps him off his feet like a baby, taking him high up into the air before driving him straight back down with a Spinebuster Slam. Grabbing both off Stryke’s legs while his back is still arched up from the impact, Dace doubles them over the Aussie’s head and leans his weight down, making another cover as Hardcastle dashes into place to count. ……ONE! ……TWO! ……TWO AND A QUARTER! ……TWO AND A HALF! ……TWO AND …KICKOUT! Oooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Comet: Citizen Stryke kicks out again! Even with that full cover from Dace Night he still gets that shoulder up. He’s certainly tougher that the average cruiserweight around there. Riley: And that’s what gives Stryke an even bigger advantage, not only can he run rings around Dace in this catch, he can take all of Dace’s limited moveset and still kick out. Hah! Thumping the mat again, Dace drills an elbow into the flying Aussie’s face before hauling him up like dead weight to his feet. Forcing the smaller man into a Standing Headscissors, Night slips his arms under Stryke’s shoulders and locks his hands behind his back in a Double Underhook. Squeezing his arms together as tight as he can, Horrorcore tries to pop Stryke’s shoulders out as he pulls him from the mat up into the air. As he flips upside down, Stryke matches a desperate effort to flip his legs around and overhead, locking them around Dace Night’s head. With the sudden shift of balance, Stryke arches his weight backwards and throws Dace overhead to the mat with a Hurricanrana. Rolling to the side of the ring, Stryke slowly hauls himself back up, stumbling slightly as he goes. Springing back to his feet, Dace cracks his neck in an instant before launching at Stryke like bloodlust filled tiger ready rip the flying Aussie limb from limb. Ducking a Lariat that was sure to snap his neck like a twig, Stryke spins behind Dace and throws his arms put in near panic. Locking them around Night’s neck in the tightest grip he can manage, tugging him backwards into a Sleeper Hold. Thrashing around like an animal trapped in a net, Dace vainly tries to nail Stryke with a wild elbow to shake him off. Bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbboooooooooooooooooo! Digging his heels into the mat, Stryke keeps on twisting, making sure Dace never gets the chance to ram him backwards into the cage or the turnbuckles. Holding on tight like he’s riding a bronco, Stryke locks up his grip even tighter and tighter as he feels Night’s strength slipping away slowly, bit by bit. Hardcastle yells at Dace if he wants to give up, but just gets told where to shove it, even as Stryke almost pulls Dace down to the mat with the suffocating Sleeper Hold. Barely twisting himself out of the way of a Reverse Elbow Smash while still keeping the hold on, Stryke keeps on struggling, milking the hold for every single bit he can get from it. Comet: Desperation Sleeper Hold from Stryke on Citizen Night, but it’s not going to work, it’s pinfall only. Riley: Yer, but if he puts Dace to sleep, he’s not going to kick out of a cover now is he spandex boy? All he’s got to do is hold onto this one and he’s got it won! Feeling Dace fade deeper and deeper into the fog of sleep, Stryke throws his legs out behind himself and plummets to the mat, snapping Dace down along with him in a Sleeper Drop. Not playing around anymore, Stryke floats over and cradles up both legs and an arm to make the most textbook cover he’s ever made as Hardcastle franticly slides in to count the fall… ……ONE! …….TWO! ……TWO AND A QUARTER! ……TWO AND A HALF! ……TWO AND THREE QUARTERS! ……KICKOUT! Yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Comet: But it’s still not enough to put Citizen Night away! Riley: I know it doesn’t take a bump off a roof every single match to put this guy away, come on Stryke, show me I’m right to think you own his ass! Darting back to his feet, the flying Aussie yells at Hardcastle again, asking him if he can even count to three right. Throwing his arms up in disgust, Stryke turns his attentions back to Horrorcore and rains in another hail of boots just to try and soften him up that one last little bit for the kill. Reaching down, Stryke gets right in the face of the Hardcore Goth, ready to spit at him… CRACK! Rrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh! A frantic Elbow Smash nails him right in the face, knocking him backwards, but Dace can’t even stand to make a fight back. Clutching his head with one hand, Stryke kicks Dace straight in the head before hauling him up and punching him repeatedly in the temple for good measure. Slipping behind Horrorcore, the Aussie grabs one of his legs along with a Rear Waistlock and drags him up into the air. Not able to hold Dace up, Stryke spins on his feel and drops back to the mat, driving Night down again with a Spinning Backdrop Suplex. Rather than trying to pin Dace, Stryke pushes himself back up, strain starting to show in his every movement, just as Dace lays on the mat, twitching, trying to curl up and groan at the battering he’s taking. Slowly reaching down this, keeping an eye on Dace’s arms, Stryke pulls Night back up and leans back, to shoot him off across the ring. CRAKC! Rrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh! Shaking off the wild elbow, Stryke punches him in the face and digs back again… CRACK! Rrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh! Dazed by the second blow, Stryke can barely hold on, almost collapsing backwards, Dace tries to push forwards and attack again, but it’s no good as a fist cracks into his face and snaps his head back. And again, and again, and again. Just for added measure, Stryke makes a half turn and crushes Dace’s head into the steel wall of the cage before launching him across the ring into the turnbuckles. Comet: Citizen Night is valiantly trying to fight back, but after the beating from Stryke, he just can’t capitalise on his blows. Riley: That’s because all he can do is brawl and when that doesn’t work he’s screwed. Stryke still looks like he could hit ninety percent of his moves. And if he can’t hit the Low End Theory, you can bet he’s got other moves to win with. Sucking down vital lung fulls of air, Stryke kicks himself into over drive and goes for the final assault, racing across the ring like a bullet, trying to just sandwich Dace between the literally cruiserweight and the turnbuckles. Looking through half closes, foggy eyes Night sees the figure racing towards him in slow motion. Reaching down deep inside, for all the little places he has left, he tries to move his arm, fighting to life it up, fighting to defend himself. Just inches away, Stryke can see victory in his grasp, a chance to show all these fans they should respect him, just like John Duran and Tom Flesher. He can see…. An elbow…. CRACK! Rrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Comet: ELBOW! DACE BLOCKED! Almost toppling over onto his ass after ramming himself full speed into Dace Night’s elbow, Stryke knows he has to do something to hold on, but he doesn’t have it in him as another elbow whips into his face, and then another. Almost sleepwalking through the twist, Dace copies history and slams his elbow full force into Stryke face and almost snaps his jaw with the impact. Comet: ROLLING ELBOW! ROLLING ELBOW! Riley: NOOOOO! Both men hit the mat together, like dead people in Reservoir Dogs, Dace and Stryke lay sprawled out and prone, not a twitch between them as Hardcastle stands over them checking to see if both men are still alive. Grabbing them wrist, shaking their arms limply, Hardcastle watches them flop back mat lifelessly… DACE! DACE! DACE! LET’S GO DACE! LET’S GO! LET’S GO DACE! LET’S GO! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! Riley: It’s a race to the finish now, the first man back up has got with match won. Come on Stryke, move it boy move it! Slowly, like the moving of mountains the two men start to move, Horrorcore rolls over and looks up at the lights, feeling his body acting, burning. Stryke sits up, like a baby, wobbling as he goes. But he not fast enough, fueled on by hitting the Rolling Elbow, Dace ignores as much of the pain as he can manage, climbing back up to his feet. The flying Aussie tries to push the limit and attack first, but only gets another skill ringing elbow to the face for his troubles. As Stryke twists on his heel, Dace clamps on one of his trademark vice like Rear Waistlocks and snaps he’s body like a cannon. Stryke flies through the air once again, but this time for all the wrong reasons. Normally he would have sailed over the ropes and out onto the floor, but there’s just the slight problem of a steel cage being in his path this time… CRASH! Rrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh! Comet: GERMAN SUPLEX INTO THE STEEL CAGE! IT’S OVER! Riley: Damn it, damn it no! Crumpling down to the mat like a bird shot from the air, the Aussie just lays there in a ball, unmoving and not even making a sound. But even that’s not the end as Dace drags him clear of the ropes and into the middle of the ring. Having to deadlift two hundred and twenty pounds of barely moving Aussie Cruiserweight isn’t easy, but Dace gets him up and clamps him down into a Standing Headscissors. Locking on a Double Underhook, Dace roars that it’s over, flipping Stryke up into the air and drives his already injured back down into the mat with a bone crushing Tiger Driver. Yyyyyyyyyyyaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! ONE! TWO! THREE! DING! DING! DING! DACE F’N’ NIGHT! DACE F’N’ NIGHT! DACE F’N’ NIGHT! Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner, DACE NIGHT! Comet: Tiger Driver and it’s over! Stryke almost defeated Citizen Night there, but in the end he just didn’t have enough. Riley: Oh quiet spandex boy, just for once. Please. As the cage is slowly lifted away from the ring, the two men have nothing left to roll out of the ring. As the crowd chants on and on, they gear up for another battle… for the World Title…. Fade Out.

The synthesized, melodic beginning to "This Is Your Life" by Switchfoot echoes through the BSU Pavillion, as Storm returns from break with a marquee match for the SWF World Tag Team Titles. "Welcome back fans, and if you're still pouring that drink or heating up that burrito, you'd better hurry up, because one hell of a match is about to break out!" proclaims an ecstatic Bobby Riley. As Riley comments on his expectations for the upcoming match, the challengers in this contest, Mike Van Siclen and Todd Cortez, step out onto the stage, with Van Siclen's cocky demeanor drawing a less than positive reaction from the crowd. FUNYON Laaaaaadieeeeees and Gentlemennnnn, the following contest, is for the SWF WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP! Approaching the ring at this time are the challengers. First, hailing from "The Streets", he is the "Urban Legend", TODD CORRRRRTEZZZZZ! His partner is the current reigning Hardcore Gamers Champion, and hails from Harrison, IL...MIKE VANNNN SISSSSS-LENNNNN. They weigh in at combined weight of four hundred, fifty two pounds, and are former SWF World Tag Team Champions...they are HOLLEEEE-WOODDD BOULLLLLEVARRRRRRRD! The duo have just hit the ring, with Van Siclen sliding in and continuing to egg the fans on with his taunts, while Cortez stands on the floor, engaging in his pre-match "prayer" before sliding into the ring. Some fans pop out of respect for the new superstar, but it's still a mystery to them why he'd be involved with a man like Mike Van Siclen. "A lot of combustible elements are going to be in play during this matchup, Riley. First off, you've got Aecas and Janus who could break out into their own match at any time, and they're the champs! Then youv'e got two men who are not only former tag champions, but who are coming off singles victories. Not to mention that when Hollywood Boulevard, then called The In Crowd, first won the tag belts, it was at the expense of Janus and Aecas! It's been a short while since Cortez debuted, but there's still a lot of history involved here!" "Comet, take a breath before you pass out!" says Bobby. The theme for the challengers fades out, and is replaced with silence, and then darkness, as fans pop when the lights are dimmed. "ARE YOU SCARED?" The fans pop in recognition of the catchphrase. "HE'S HERE!" "Death In Fire" booms out of every speaker in the Pavillion, as a flash of lightning shows the face of Aecas on the Smarktron. Red lights pulse throughout the arena, as the co-holder of the Tag Titles steps out amidst the smoke clouding the entranceway. Aecas, with the SWF Tag Title strapped around his waist, stands tall, soaking in the response of the crowd, as he raises the Flick Scythe up with one hand, and spews a red mist out, drawing more of a pop from his fans. "This man has a score to settle with every other man in this contest, and that includes his own partner!" comments Comet. Aecas walks to the ring, as Cortez and Van Siclen keep their eyes on him as he approaches. No sooner is Aecas stepping through than Cortez and Van Siclen pounce on him, attacking him while he's caught off guard! Brian Hebner quickly calls for the bell, as Hollywood Boulevard double up on Aecas, hammering across the back of his neck and his back with forearms. Fighting off the pre-bell attack, Aecas stands up, and delivers forearm shots to each mans face, knocking them to the canvas! After knocking Cortez down, Aecas turns to Van Siclen, but catches a thumb to the eye from the sneaky veteran. Cortez gets up, and he and Van Siclen each grab an arm, sending Aecas into the ropes and catching him on the rebound with a double dropkick! Aecas, still on his feet, stumbles back into the ropes, and as Hollywood Boulevard get to their feet, bursts forward and levels them both with a double clothesline! Van Siclen rolls under the bottom rope, out onto the apron upon hitting the canvas, while Cortez is pulled up to his feet by Aecas. Van Siclen struggles with the ropes, using them as an aid to get to his feet on the apron, but is immediately sent flying backwards through the air, crashing into the security rail, as Aecas whips Cortez into his own partner! Todd stumbles forward, and Aecas quickly scoops him up and spins around with Cortez in his arms, squashing him with a snap powerslam! Aecas keeps the leg hooked, as Hebner counts the fall... ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! Cortez throws a shoulder up, showing that it's going to take more than that to keep him down for a fall. Aecas gets up off of him, but as soon as Todd is up to his feet, he finds a knee driven into his gut, keeling him over. Aecas reaches down and lifts Todd, pressing him above his head, and showcasing his strength, keeping the lighter Cortez held above his head. Aecas walks over towards the ropes, as Mike Van Siclen has just recovered, and looks to launch Cortez over the ropes onto him. Van Siclen pleads with Aecas not to do it, but the fans think otherwise, egging Aecas on. After holding Cortez up for what must seem like an eternity to him, Aecas releases the press, dropping Cortez face first on the canvas behind him! The fans pop as Cortez lands, and now Aecas steps out to the apron and hops down, giving chase to the man who eeked out a victory over him just days ago! "The action has been pretty intense in these opening minutes, but where on earth is Janus, Bobby?" "Good question. We know he's in the building, and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to realize he's doing this intentionally to mess with his former friend's mind." Aecas hops to the floor from the apron, and Van Siclen backs away, pleading for Aecas not to kill him. Aecas rounds the corner in pursuit of Van Siclen, who quickly rolls into the ring, avoiding any contact with his foe on the floor. Aecas slides in after him, but as he's getting to his feet, Van Siclen wraps an arm around his head, holding him in a front facelock. Seeing his partner recovering out of the corner of his eye, Mike calls out to Todd Cortez, drawing him over as well. Cortez applies the same hold as his partner, and together the members of Hollywood Boulevard reach down with their free hands and hooks Aecas' waistband, carrying him over with a double suplex that rocks the ring! Cortez and Van Siclen get up to their feet, and Mike tells Todd to go take a breather on the apron, while he continues on as the legal man for their team. Aecas sits up, and Mike quickly applies a chinlock, knowing that in order to combat Aecas' strength advantage he'll have to wear him out, but the big man has none of it. He powers up to his feet, with Mike desperately hanging onto him with a side headlock, and reaches out, grabbing around Mike's waist and pulling him up so that Mike is horizontal in the air, held in Aecas' one arm. Aecas paces a few steps, showing off his strength for the crowd, and then jumps with Van Siclen in his grasp, leaning his weight into Van Siclen as he drives him to the mat with a sidewalk slam! Aecas rolls to his feet, and with Calvin imprinted on the canvas after that last move, he jogs to the ropes, bouncing off the far end and running to the opposite side before jumping in the air and coming down with an elbowdrop that could cave someone's chest in! The fans cheer wildly as Aecas stands up, bringing Van Siclen up with him by the throat, and holds him in a neck hanging tree hold! Van Siclen's eyes bug out as Aecas squeezes his throat, and at the count of four, Aecas breaks the hold by throwing Van Siclen backwards and to the canvas! Mike crawls to the corner, pulling himself up with the ropes, but as he turns back towards Aecas he gets an extreme closeup of his old nemesis, as Aecas barges into him with a corner clothesline, crushing him! Mike falls down to a seated position, and Aecas backs up, then charges in again, driving his knee into Mike's temple! "I'm beginning to think Aecas doesn't need Janus tonight. He's manhandling Van Siclen with ease!" says Comet, reviewing the last several minutes of action. Aecas drags Van Siclen up off the mat, leaning him up against the ropes in the corner, and takes his big hand and brings it down HARD across Mike's chest with an open hand chop. Aecas raises his hand again...SMACK~! Same result, and Van Siclen is reeling as his chest is being turned into ground beef. Aecas gives him another one for good measure, and the final shot leaves Van Siclen with an unpleasant reminder of the damage, as a red handprint is visible on his chest! With Mike rockin' and reelin', Aecas sends him flying into the other corner, and Mike hits so hard he rebounds out, stumbling forward, as Aecas darts towards him with a GORE~! GORE~! GORE~!...AND MISSES! Van Siclen, perhaps his only line of defense, grabs the top rope and pulls himself over to it, sidestepping Aecas and causes him to crash into the corner, hitting his shoulder~! Aecas pulls himself out, but favors his left shoulder after the crash, and turns around, right into a desperation single arm DDT by Mike Van Siclen! "Great presence of mind by Van Siclen, knowing enough to get to work on that wounded shoulder. Even still, if Hollywood Boulevard want any chance at winning this match, Van Siclen needs to make the tag soon. Aecas might be hurt, but that doesn't equal defeat." analyzes Bobby Riley. "Can't forget the "x factor" in this match, Bobby, that being Janus, if and when he decides to show up!" Both men struggle to recover on the mat, Aecas more quick to do so since he hasn't felt as much damage as his unluckier foe has. The crowd is abuzz as both men stir, with Van Siclen crawling towards his corner, reaching for the tag. Cortez leans in as far as he can, stretching his arm out to his partner. Aecas lunges for Mike's legs, but can't get a grip on his ankle. Van Siclen scurries further towards his corner, and finally makes the tag to the "Urban Legend" before Aecas can prevent it! Cortez slingshots in, greeted with jeers from the fans who have had it with the antics of Mike Van Siclen these last few years, causing him to be "hated by association". Undaunted by the catcalls, Cortez goes right at Aecas, grabbing the left arm and wrenching it once, then twice, each time tugging on the shoulder of the big man. Cortez wrenches again, putting more pressure on the shoulder, and this time, while still maintaining control with the standing armbar, kicks at the back of Aecas' knee, the instep of his foot making a cracking sound every time it connects with Aecas' leg. After several shots, Aecas gives in to the impact, falling to one, and Cortez releases the armbar, running to the ropes and catching Aecas as he stands up straight with a floatover dropkick, nailing him in the chest and stunning him. Cortez backs up to the ropes again, and charges towards Aecas, ducking under a haymaker shot and rebounding off the ropes behind him, going low this time and drilling him in the back of the knee with a basement dropkick! Aecas falls backwards to the mat, but quickly sits up, groaning in pain, as Cortez runs the ropes a third time, this time catching Aecas as he's in a seated position, hitting a basement dropkick that connects with Aecas' chin! "Trifecta of dropkicks from Todd Cortez has stunned the big man!" exclaims Comet. Cortez, sensing an opportunity to wear his foe out, gets up and walks over to Aecas' upper body, and pulls him up to a seated postion, then wraps his right arm around Aecas' face/neck, possibly looking for the Street Dreams! The fans holler for Aecas to fight, and fight he does, as he pushes himself up to one knee and snapmares Cortez over his shoulder, preventing the move from being put on! Aecas shrugs off the pain in the left shoulder and stands up. As Cortez sits up, Aecas delivers a soccer kick to the back of Cortez, sending shivers up and down his spine, as the fans gasp at the ensuing SMACK~! that echoes through the arena! Cortez grits his teeth, grunting in pain as he stands up, and gets spun around so that he's facing Aecas. Aecas throws an arm across the chest of Cortez, looking for a uranage, but Cortez quickly drives several elbows into the cheek of Aecas, knocking him away. Aecas staggers, leaning his head over as he rubs his cheek, and Cortez spins around, jumping up to kick him in the back of the head with an enzugiri...that Aecas ducks! Cortez falls to the mat facefirst, stunning himself, and as he gets up, he backs into Aecas, who quickly grabs a waistlock and throws Cortez up and over with a release German Suplex that folds him over, drawing a huge pop! "I wonder if Cortez qualifies for the Mile High Club now, seeing as how Aecas just tossed him!" ponders Riley. Aecas stands up, eyeing Mike Van Siclen, who is mouthing off from the apron. The fans egg Aecas on, cheering him as he lumbers towards Van Siclen, cupping his ear to mock Van Siclen, as if he can't hear him. Van Siclen climbs up onto the second rope and leans in further, continuing to run down Aecas, until the big man moves forward and grabs him by the throat! The crowd goes wild as Mike's jaw drops, and Aecas pulls him up onto the top rope, then looks over at Cortez. Seeing Cortez getting to his feet, Aecas launches Van Siclen like a lawn dart, and Cortez turns his head to see his own partner flying at him, and gets taken out by Aecas' version of a rocket launcher! "Aecas is a one man wrecking machine, and the crowd is loving every minute of it!" "AECAS! AECAS! AECAS!" The chant goes up, as both members of Hollywood Boulevard have seen better days. Van Siclen gets to his feet, then finds himself knocked off of them again, as he's taken out of the ring the hard way when Aecas drives him over the top rope and to the floor with a clothesline! The rabid fans continue to cheer the Tag Champion, as he turns to Cortez, delivering a boot to the gut that doubles him over, and then pulls him in, tucking his head between his legs, and the setup draws the fans up to their feet, as they know what's coming! "The Executioner! Aecas is going to make history by successfully defending the belts on his own tonight!" Aecas reaches down, pulling Cortez up, but instead of hanging downward, Cortez propels himself upward, wrapping an arm around Aecas' head and pulling him to the canvas the hard way with a DDT...NO! Aecas stops the momentum, not allowing his head to be driven in the canvas, and wraps his arms around Cortez and lifts, throwing him over his head with a release belly to belly suplex! Aecas gets up and raises his arms, pumping his fists as he works the crowd, and they respond with nothing but adulation for The Black Angel. The adulation quickly turns to boos, however, but not for Aecas. Instead, it's for the fact that Janus has finally appeared, and he's standing on the entrance stage! "Well, for anyone who thought he no-showed, there he is!" "Look at him, he's just hanging by the entrance way, as if he's a spectator, when he's supposed to be a part of the match we've been watching for the last ten or so minutes!" proclaims Comet. Aecas turns around to see why the booing has started, and spies his former friend residing all the way up at the top of the aisleway. Aecas locks eyes with Janus, who sneers at him, but it provides enough distraction that Mike Van Siclen recovers from being sent over the top rope, comes up onto the apron, and drops Aecas throat first across the top rope! Stunned, the big man hobbles backward, and gets pulled into a front facelock by Todd Cortez, who kicks off the second rope and spins around, drilling Aecas headfirst into the ring with a tornado DDT! Cortez hooks the leg, and urges referee Hebner to quickly make the count! ONE! TWO!! THRE....NO! KICKOUT BY AECAS! The fans roar, as Cortez quickly backs away, giving Aecas the room to recover, while Janus continues watching on from his spot on the ramp. Aecas rolls over, then pushes up to a knee, but as he does Cortez fires off a stiff snap jab to Aecas' cheek to daze him, then runs backwards, coming off the ropes towards Aecas, but before any move can be executed, Aecas pops up, turning towards Cortez and grabbing him as he runs, lifting him in the air and sending him back down with a uranage out of nowhere! The electric crowd at the BSU Pavillion continues on with their cheerleading for Aecas, all while his Tag Team Championship partner is watching on. "You know, Janus thinks that this is getting to Aecas in some way, but if Aecas pulls out a victory, then what does that say about Janus?" "That'd be a huge coup, Bobby. Not only would Aecas have defeated this upstart tag team, but he would have cemented Janus as the weak link in their team!" says Comet. Van Siclen, seeing his partner down, calls for him to make the tag, and with Aecas still dazed from the high impact assaults and shortcuts taken by Hollywood Boulevard, Janus now begins making his way, albeit slowly, down to ringside, never taking his eye off his wounded former partner. "Here he comes, and I don't think that could be good for any of these three men!" shouts Comet. Aecas gets to his feet first, and when he stands up he again locks eyes with Janus, this time as Janus is climbing up the ring steps and onto the apron. Aecas inches closer to his corner, shouting "Where were you!?" at his friend turned foe, but Janus brushes off the comment, speaking through action, not words. Aecas inches closer, again demanding to know where Janus has been, and pays no attention to the screams of the fans, urging him to notice Todd Cortez making his way towards Van Siclen...and making the tag! Aecas, still with his back turned, doesn't see Mike charge in full throttle, delivering an elbow shot to the back of his neck and sending him staggering forward a few steps. Janus continues to watch as Mike spins Aecas towards him, peppering him with forearm shots, and then a European uppercut. Aecas reels, and Mike grabs him by the arm, backing him into the ropes before Irish whipping him in to the other side. Mike falls onto his stomach, and when Aecas rebounds he hops over Mike, and runs to the other side. As he comes off the ropes for a second time, Mike jumps up to leapfrog over him, but Aecas puts the brakes on, and catches Mike by his legs in mid air, slamming him forward with a modified spinebuster! Aecas, more frustrated than before now with the appearance of Janus, picks Mike up by the throat, and then biels him into his corner. Janus doesn't even react, watching on with a stoneface as Aecas runs an elbow into Mike's jaw, staggering him in the corner, and then lifting him up onto his shoulders before spinning him outward, slamming Mike facefirst with a fireman's carry pancake! Mike gets to his knees before doing a Ric Flair style flop to the canvas, but when Aecas gets up from delivering the move, and offers his hand to Janus, knowing he's not going to take it. Janus still doesn't respond, and Aecas, who figured as much, picks Mike up, but again Mike resorts to the cheapest tactics he knows, and thumbs Aecas in the eye, temporarily blinding him! With Aecas unable to see right now, he backs away from Mike, but nears his own corner...and Janus reaches over, smacking Aecas on the back and blind tagging himself in! Janus quickly moves towards Van Siclen, scooping him up over his shoulder, and preparing for ADF II...until AECAS of all people pulls Van Siclen down to the canvas, free from Janus' grip! "I never thought I'd see the day!" exclaims Riley. Janus, in angered disbelief, turns around to see Aecas staring at him coldly. The two giants go nose to nose, and Hebner tries to come between them and break up the tension before all hell breaks loose. Neither man pays any attention to Hebner, as they continue to burn a hole through each other with their glares, and again, the distraction provides Mike Van Siclen with ample opportunity to dart to his corner and tag in Todd Cortez! "Aecas didn't want Janus coming in and getting the glory after he did the dirty work, and that could very well cost them tonight!" Cortez comes in, and Janus turns away from Aecas, as if to say "I have something better to do", and then locks up with Cortez. Showing his strength and freshness, Janus shoves Cortez down to the canvas, then pounds his chest, calling Cortez to give it another try. Cortez gathers his thoughts, and comes in towards Janus again, signalling for another lockup. They do, but the speedster quickly uses a go behind, and then segues into a waistlock on Janus. As Janus looks to fire back an elbow, Todd turns with him, staying behind him with the waistlock and pushing off, sending Janus stumbling a few feet into his own corner...and Aecas tags himself back in to a big pop! "Aecas just gave Janus a taste of his own medicine, and I don't think Janus liked the flavor!" says Comet. Janus stares at Aecas, and as he comes into the ring, Janus grabs him by the hair, jerking him up to a vertical base and looking dead in his eyes. Aecas shoves Janus off, and flies at him in a rage, dazing him with punch after punch after punch! "ALL HELL HAS BROKEN LOOSE NOW!" hollers Comet. "We've got two teams beating on each other, and now we've got partners beating on each other!" Aecas backs Janus up, and when Cortez goes to move in for the kill, Van Siclen comes in and holds him back, probably telling him to let the two giants kill each other before they pick up the spoils of war. Janus cuts off the assault with a knee to the gut, and then whips Aecas into the ropes, however Aecas reverses the momentum and pulls Janus into a knee of his own, doubling him over, then pulls him in, setting up THE EXECUTIONER ON JANUS! Almost instantly, Janus shoves him backwards, breaking the attempt, then stands up and grabs Aecas by the throat, but Aecas quickly elbows out of it! He sends Janus in, but now it's Janus who reverses the whip, and sends Aecas in...AND AECAS REBOUNDS WITH A GORE~! Janus got DRILLED~!, but Aecas comes up, favoring his left shoulder again...and now Cortez sees an opportunity! As Aecas is getting up, Todd jumps on his back, wrapping his right arm around his face with an inverted facelock, and tugging back on the left arm with his own left, putting more pressure on the shoulder! Aecas powers to his feet, even with Cortez wrapping his legs around his waist, trying desperately to get a firm lock on the hold. Janus is still rolling on the canvas after the shock and impact of the Gore, while the fans rumble with pleads and chants for Aecas not to tap out. Van Siclen seems to be the only one cheering on his partner, as Cortez fights for control with Aecas. Not worn down enough to stop putting up a fight, Aecas backs up, ramming Cortez into the corner and crushing him, knocking the wind out of him and getting him to release the hold. A weary Aecas walks forward, shaking the cobwebs loose, but Janus has gotten up, and quickly scoops up Aecas with ease, holding him over his shoulder, and then planting him with an ADF II! "My God, he could have put him through the ring!" proclaims Riley. The crowd boos loudly, as Janus turns towards Cortez, then looks back at Mike Van Siclen, and then simply just steps over the ropes, exiting the ring as the crowd continues to show their displeasure. Cortez shakes the cobwebs loose, and Van Siclen leans in, like a cheerleader on acid, shouting for Cortez to pin Aecas. Todd slides across him, hooking the leg, as Janus walks up the aisle, unaffected by what he's just done. Hebner slides to the canvas for the count, and the crowd counts along with it... ONE! TWO! THREE! NO! NO NO! KICKOUT BY AECAS! The fans ERUPT, and Janus stops dead in his tracks, turning back and snarling at what has just happened. Van Siclen nor Cortez can believe it either, but Aecas has just kicked out after being left for dead by his own partner! "If I didn't see it, I'd never have believed it!" shouts an ecstatic Bobby Riley. Not wanting to let up his efforts in the quest to capture the tag belts, Cortez heads for the corner, seeing that Aecas could be polished off with one more high risk move. Cortez climbs the ropes, but a recovered Aecas follows suit, and tucks his head between Todd's legs, lifting him onto his shoulders and pulling him away from the ropes. Knowing that Aecas is looking to finish him off ASAP, Cortez falls backwards, flipping over off of Aecas' shoulders and then jumping on him piggyback style, again looking for the Street Dreams! Aecas squirms, trying to shake the smaller Spaniard off of him, but to no avail, as Cortez locks the Dragon Sleeper on him, and pulls back on the bad left arm and shoulder, adding to the damage it can do. After struggling valiantly, attempting to stay on his feet, Aecas falls to one knee, and Cortez rears back, pulling Aecas into a leg grapevine, wrapping himself around the big guy! "Todd Cortez has the Street Dreams locked in, Comet!" "Aecas won't tap out, Bobbo! That man is a fighter, and has proven as much tonight!" "AECAS! AECAS!" calls the crowd, hoping their chants will revitalize the man. The fans, Mike Van Siclen, and Janus all look on at the scene in the ring, with Cortez expending all his energy to keep the hold applied. Brian Hebner crouches down next to them, looking on for a tapout, but Aecas keeps his right arm extended to show that he's still alive. Van Siclen shouts for Aecas to "give it up!", and the fans are all over him for that one. Hebner keeps an eye on Aecas, who is fighting with every ounce of his being, but is growing tired by the minute. Janus stays midway up the aisle, watching on, as Hebner looks down while Aecas' arm drops slightly, again, and then eventually goes limp. He calls for the bell, and the fans boo loudly, while Janus just snickers to himself. FUNYON LAAAAADIEEEEESSSS AND GENNNNNTELLLLLMENNNNN, YOUR WINNERS, AND NEW WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS...HOLL-EEEEEEEEWOOOOOD BOULLLLLEVARRRRRRRRDDDDD!!! "This Is Your Life" starts up, as Cortez gets up and is greeted with a hug by an overexcited Mike Van Siclen. The duo embrace, and hold their newly won World Tag Titles up high, the second time they've accomplished such a feat. Van Siclen raises his belt up with both hands, while Cortez climbs to the middle rope and shows his off, although the fans aren't happy with their victory. "You have to hand it to Aecas, Riley, because he had to go at this match alone all the way through. In fact, I highly doubt Hollywood Boulevard would be the champs had it not been for what Janus did tonight!" "I'd agree, Comet. For now though, Hollywood Boulevard reign supreme, and you can bet that this unholy war between Aecas and Janus is far from over. Speaking of far from over, don't you dare go away, because Storm will be back with more action, right after this!"

“People! People! Please! One at a time! I’m an incredibly busy man!” The commotion in the parking lot soon spills into the arena hallways as employees leap out of the way to safe themselves from the stampede, the stampede of the rabid entourage surrounding the latest sensation to hit the SWF in recent memory, the Sovereign of Swagger! The Prince of Pizzazz! The Captain of Charisma! The Head Honcho of Haughtiness…! “Oh come on, give me a god damn break! That last one is just ridiculous!” “Silence knave! Your job is to film me, camera boy, now hop to it squire!” “…Ugh…” The reflection from the camera’s lens shows the sparkling teeth in the perfect smile from the dashing man signing the autographs for his most loyal fans, but behind the camera, the man behind the scenes simply shakes his head, seeing right through the whole façade. Another disgruntled sigh comes from the cameraman as the pompous jackass spills more cocksure drivel while flashbulbs… flash, and members of the press try to get the inside scoop with the star. “Well, How, About, THIS!” Says the newest addition to the SWF family, Ace Lezaire! He flashes his fans a smile, charming wink and tilt of the head. Ace notices his subordinates dissatisfaction and decides to stir the pot some more. “Come now Steve, don’t feel too bad, maybe one day, you’ll be in my position, with fans coming from the rafters to see you! Sure, you’re not as handsome as me, or charming as me, or as talented as me, or as intelligent as me, or… “Ugh, I’m becoming nauseous…” “All I’m saying is, I’m sure there are some cameraman groupies somewhere.” Ace shoots Steve a condescending grin and wink, before going back to his pressing business of having his fans drool all over him, striking heroic poses for the snapshots. “Having a good time then Ace? Enjoying your time in the SWF so far?” “Who wouldn’t?! Treated like royalty, greeted like a hero, yep, I could really get used to this!” “Well, don’t get used to it…” mutters Steve, finally cracking a smile as he announces, “OK PEOPLE! IT’S 8:30! TIME TO CLOCK OFF!” A cloud of dust fills the surrounding area, and when it passes, all that’s left is the two men, alone, while a wolf howls, and a dust ball glides by, which the two men watch until it rolls out of sight. Ace whimpers as he looks around, wondering where all his loving and adoring fans have gone. The red light on the camera flickers out, and Steve nods his head approvingly. “I’d say they were money well spent, got some great footage.” “You mean, they weren’t…” “Nope.” “And they were…” “Yep.” Looking down the empty hallways, Ace puts his disappointment behind him, reassuring himself of his fame by looking in a mirror, and brushing his flowing locks back. “No skin off my nose,” He says, admiring his perfect bone structure. “Soon enough, everyone will fall victim to my charm, and my talent. They’ll come flocking back to me. And to begin…” Ace motions Steve to begin recording, who rolls his eyes, raising the camera onto his shoulder and into position. Lezaire, intensity written on his face as he cocks an eyebrow, and takes a dramatic turn towards the camera… “I think it’s high time I, Ace Lezaire, made… an impact.” His eyebrows work over time selling the line, as Steve sighs yet again, and Lezaire storms down the corridor, Steve in close pursuit, dreading ever getting into this business…

“And after that amazing Triple Threat match for the SWF Cruiserweight Championship, we head straight into a single’s match between two of the top talent’s SWF has to offer.” “Two? There is Landon Maddix, but who is the other?” “Umm…Spike Jenkins…?” “Spike is a top talent? My has the quality of talent gone down.” Sighs Riley. “Why must you be so sarcastic?” “Me? Sarcastic? Noooo.” Just then, the lights turn down as blue strobe lights hit the entranceway. “The Song About Nothing” by the Malibu Boy scouts start’s up as the crowd begins cheering. “Out comes the challenger to the champion in this non-title match…” After a few moments, “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins makes his appearance in Boise, Idaho as he walks out from behind the entrance curtain. Spike starts walking down the entranceway, slapping hands with fans in the front row and flashing a big smile. “The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and is a Non-Title match! First making his way to the ring, weighing in at a total of Two Hundred and Twenty-Five pounds. Hailing from Hollywood, California! He is “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins!!!!!!!” Funyon finishes his introduction as Spike slides under the bottom rope into the ring. Spike jumps to his feet and charges into the corner, leaping up onto the middle rope and posing for the fans. “Spike Jenkins is out here after a grueling Triple Threat Elimination Table’s match with ‘The Antichrist Superstar’ Crow and ‘The High Priest of Horrocore’ Dace Night.” “I hated that match. Sure, all three of them killed each other. But still, I dislike all three guys in that match. And I was very happy when Spike put Crow through a table, only to be dropped on his head through a table by Dace Night!” Spike hops down from the middle rope. He stretches over the ropes, waiting for his opponent. And right on cue, the lights are cut as the playing of N.E.R.D's "Lap dance" is met with resounding boos from the Boise crowd. "Dirty Dog I'm, I'm a dirty dog I'm a dirty dog I'm, I'm a dirty dog Dirty Dog I'm a dirty dog Dirty Dog" The drumbeat kicks in, just as Landon Maddix emerges from behind the curtains with his arms already held aloft in preparation for the ever-present wall of jeers that hits him. And the first thing noticeable about him is his newly won SWF United States/Junior League Championship. Right behind Landon of course is Megan Skye, who skips over towards Landon and thrusts her hands towards him, as if presenting a prize on a game show. “Landon Maddix pulled up the upset of his life as he took the SWF United States/Junior League Championship away from “Wild” Coy West.” “An upset? Yeah, right! Landon Maddix is a follower of Todd Royal and is more talented then half of this roster.” Claims Bobby Riley. “Is he, now?” questions Cyclone Comet. “Yes, he is.” “Then why did he need Megan Skye and to choke out Coy West to win the title? His cheating tactics may have gone undetected from the referee, but not from the Cyclone Comet~~!” “You are a weird, weird little man.” "And his opponent!” booms Funyon. “Accompanied to the ring by his 'perfect 10' Megan Skye. Weighing in at Two Hundred and Ten pounds. Hailing from Huron, South Dakota. He represents The Unnamed, and remains the last ever JL Champion...The Disciple of Todd…LANDON...'LA CUCARACHA'...MAAAAADDIIIX!!!" Funyon quietly steps out of the ring. The crowd stands on their feet, booing the follower of Todd and current USJL Champion. Reaching the apron, Landon hops up and extends his arm to Megan, helping her up and opening the ropes to allow her in. He then struts across the apron, before jumping to the middle turnbuckle and again posturing to the jeering crowd, as Megan looks on with a grin. The USJL Title gleams as flash photography goes off all around the arena capturing the champion. “That title is beautiful around his waist.” “Okay, now THAT was creepy.” Says a little freaked out Comet. “What? I can’t admire his hard word and determination?” “I am not going to justify that with an answer.” Landon hops over the top rope and lands in the ring. Landon unstraps the USJL Title from around his waist, and hands it to Megan Skye, who puts it over her shoulder as she exits the ring to the floor. The referee walks over, and checks Landon for weapons as he did Spike. When satisfied, he calls for the bell to signal the start of the match! *Ding Ding Ding* Both men walk out of their corner, as they circle around the ring. “This will be an interesting match between these two. They both know each other from their past in the SJL. Not to mention, Landon Maddix runs on a highflying, high offense style. Spike Jenkins used to have the same style, but since his knee injury, he has been forced off it into a slower mat based style. Spike may have the advantage as he knows what Maddix is thinking.” Both men enter the center of the ring, and meet each other with a collar-elbow tie up. Landon struggle to get the advantage, but the stronger Spike pulls him into a side headlock. Spike wrenches on the neck. Spike attempts to flip Landon over onto his back with a headlock takedown, but the follower of Todd plants his feet into the mat, refusing to go anywhere. “Spike quickly working in the headlock, and trying to take the weaker Landon down.” Spike continues wrenching on the neck and again tries to flip the USJL Champion over onto his back, but Landon stands with his feet firmly planted into the mat. Landon throws some elbows into the kidney area of Spike, but he fights through the pain. Spike pulls on the neck, leaving Landon the only option to either get pulled over, or to fight his way to the ropes. Landon keeps his feet planted on the mat, and begins his long struggle to the ropes. “Come on! This isn’t fair! Spike has Landon in a choke!” “That’s a headlock…” “His cheating tactics may have gone undetected from you, Comet. But not from me, Bobby Riley~!” “I really hate you.” “Umm…let me think. How about, No?” Back to the action, Spike wrenches on the head of Landon. Spike once again attempts to flip Landon over onto his back, but Landon holds on again and is finally able to grab the top rope. The referee gets in Spike’s face, and begins to start a five count before Spike can break the hold. But since Spike is the baby face of this match, he releases the hold before the count even begins. “Spike releases the headlock, as Landon Maddix just grabs the rope.” “Come on! It was a choke hold!” “No…it was a headlock.” “Umm…let me think. How about, No?” “Stop saying that!” Spike backs away from Landon, but quickly plans on going back to the attack. Landon sees his opening, and his cockiness gets to him… *SLAP* Landon gives Spike a hard slap across the face! “Hahaha! The USJL Champion just smacked that little punk around!” Spike’s eyes widen in anger, as he nearly dives at Landon. But Landon ducks in between the ropes, and the referee is forced to push Spike back. Everybody in Boise begin booing as Landon gives off a cocky smile and Megan begins clapping. “Lack of respect from the champion.” “Why should the champion respect Spike? What has Spike proven that deserves respect?” Spike stands in the middle of the ring, and yells at Landon to “come on”. Landon uncovers himself from the ropes, and both men begin circling around the ring. They meet in the center of the ring, and engage in a collar-elbow tie up. Landon tries to gain the advantage, but the now angry Spike quickly pulls him into a headlock. “Not again!” “Spike is keeping that headlock on tight. Most likely due to Landon not being able to counter out of it. Spike is the stronger and more technically advanced of the two. Landon may not know what to do in this situation.” “But Landon also has some training from the great Todd Royal. Royal is a master of the mat work. I’m sure he showed Landon a few counters here and there.” “Possibly, but Todd Royal teaching Landon Maddix the basics? He probably showed Landon a bunch of fancy smancy moves. You know how Todd Royal is.” “No, I don’t. Care to explain?” “Okay. Todd Royal is cocky and arrogant. There.” “See! I knew you were a fan of Todd Royal. Todd Bless You!” Spike wrenches on the head of Landon, and again tries to flip him over with a headlock takedown. But once again, Landon plants his feet, and holds on for dear life. Maddix realizes that he is stuck in the same situation, and instantly starts pulling towards the ropes. Spike sees Landon do this, and unwillingly follows with him. Spike tries one last attempt at a headlock takedown, but Landon holds firm and grabs onto the rope. The referee comes to break it up again but Spike refuses to let go this time, causing the referee to start the five count. One! Two! Three! Four! Fiv…and Spike breaks the hold. “Oh No! Spike’s mad! He kept a headlock on till the four count! Whatever will Landon do now?” mocks Riley. Spike backs away, but goes back to the attack, now angrier then before. Landon, of course being the cocky and not so smart person that he is, again tries to slap Spike across the face… *SLA… No! Spike blocks it with his left arm, and in return… *CRACK* …Decks Landon across the side of his face with a right elbow. “HEY!” Landon falls back into the ropes, with his eyes glazed over. Spike grabs Landon by the hair, and pulls him into a headlock, before flipping him over to the mat with a headlock takedown! Spike gets his body into position, and starts tearing at Landon’s neck. “Spike finally getting the headlock takedown and locks in on Landon’s neck.” “No thanks to an illegal elbow!” cries Riley. “An illegal elbow? How?” questions Comet? “Landon wasn’t ready!” “Landon tried to slap Spike…again!” “So?” Spike wrenches on the neck, as Landon screams out in pain. The referee jumps down to the mat, and starts asking Landon if he gives up. Landon, disgraced if he submits to a headlock, refuses. Landon tries to wiggle out of the headlock, but Spike just pulls tighter at the neck. “Spike is cutting Landon off at the knees. It seems Spike came in ready with a game plan, and is in full effect of using it.” Landon tries to kick at the back of Spike, but Spike has positioned himself just out of reach of Landon’s legs. Landon starts to kick the mat, as Megan Skye starts slapping her hands on the mat, cheering on for the USJL Champion. Spike pulls on the neck, causing the supply of oxygen in Landon’s body to cut off at the head. The only thing Landon can think of is to fight out of it, and starts whipping out weak elbows to the back of Spike. Spike shrugs them off, but this gives Landon the opportunity to pull Spike over onto his shoulders and get him in a pinning predicament! One! Two! Thr…No! Spike floats over Landon and back into the headlock! Spike continues pulling at the neck, as Landon screams in pain. “Damn it, Spike! Let go of the choke hold!” “For the last time, it’s a Headlock!” Spike keeps the hold locked in, as Landon starts whipping Spike’s back with elbows again and again. Spike clutches at his back in pain, allowing Landon the time needed to pull him and Spike up to his knees, and ultimately up to his feet. “Yes! Smartness coming from The Disciple of Todd!” “Did you just use the word, smartness?” “Yes. Yes, I did.” Spike holds on to the hold as tight as possible, knowing that Landon has the chance to escape it now. Landon, who is losing oxygen fast, just pulls all of his weight backwards. This causes him and Spike to stumble back and fall into the ropes. “Great move by Landon! Just throw yourself into the ropes and make the referee break the hold!” exclaims Riley. The referee jumps in between both guys, but Spike already has let go of the hold and tries to get to his feet. Spike gets to a full stance. Planning on staying on the attack, he reaches down and grabs Landon by the hair, pulling him to his feet. Spike locks Landon with a headlock, and tries to take him over with another headlock takedown… …But no! Landon rings his arm over the top rope, and Spike drops face first to the mat as Landon stands above him. Spike quickly tries to get to his feet, but catches a knee to the back by Landon. Landon locks Spike in a reverse front face lock, and with a quick spin drives Spike into the mat, back of the headfirst. “The Landon Eye!” yells out Bobby Riley. “The Landon Eye. The first of Landon Maddix’s offense of the match so far.” “Trust me. There will be more.” Spike lies on the mat, holding the back of his head. Landon himself falls into a sitting position on the middle rope, as Megan Skye runs around to check on him. The Disciple of Todd clutches at his neck, a little distraught from the pressure his opponent put on it. Landon gets up to his feet and reaches down, grabbing the near crawling Spike Jenkins up by his hair. Landon wraps his arm around Spike’s shoulder and in between his legs and lifts him into the air. Landon drives Spike back first into the mat with a powerslam. Landon grabs at his neck, as he heads into the corner, and steps through the middle and top rope, and begins to make his way up to the top rope. Still fumbling at his neck, he stands on the top rope, and does a cocky pose for the fans that begin booing immediately. Megan Skye stands on the outside, cheering for her protégé, as he leaps through the air. Landon aims at Spike’s shoulder as he comes crashing down with The Disciple Flying Head BUTT… …But Spike moves out of the way! Landon comes crashing down and hits nothing but mat! “Disciple Flying Head BUTT misses! All the pressure Spike put on the neck causes Landon to take too much time on the top rope! Not to mention him posing…” “His posing was fine! It’s all the neck work Spike did to him. Landon can’t breath properly thanks to that damn headlock!” Spike rolls over onto his stomach, and struggles up to his feet. Landon on the other hand, stands on his knees, kneeling over and grabbing at his neck. Spike crawls into the corner, and uses the ropes to pull himself to his feet. Landon stands on his feet, but seems a little preoccupied with his neck. Landon turns around towards Spike, as he comes charging out of the corner. Spike dives down, and drives his shoulders into the rib cage of Landon with a spear! Landon falls back first to the mat, with his head snapping against the mat. “Spike Berg with the spear!” “Spike Berg?” asks Riley. “He might as well steal another gimmick to try and get over.” “That doesn’t sound like something a superhero like you would say…” “Hey. Superhero’s speak the truth, you know.” Spike gets up to his feet, flips his hair back. Spike signals for the crowd to get up, as they continue cheering on the Hollywood Superstar. Spike turns back to Landon, who holds the back of his head on the mat. Spike walks over, reaches down and grabs Landon by the hair. Spike pulls him up to his feet, and gives him a quick kick to the gut. Landon doubles over, allowing Spike to lock him in a front face lock. Spike slaps the back of Landon and drops down, driving Landon head first into the mat with a DDT! “Big DDT by Spike Jenkins! Spike looks to have everything under control!” “It’s not fair! He used an illegal choke hold on Landon!” “IT WAS A HEADLOCK!!” yells Cyclone Comet. Spike sits up, and quickly turns Landon over onto his back. Spike hops up to his feet, reaches down, and pulls Landon up to a sitting position by his hair. Spike places his legs to the side of Landon and now stands over him. He reaches down and locks Landon in a front face lock. Spike drops down and sits on the legs of Landon, wrapping his own legs around the USJL Champion’s waist. Spike keeps the front face lock locked in, and begins pulling at the neck of the champion! “Guillotine Choke by Spike Jenkins!” “Choke! IT’S A CHOKE! Break the move, Ref!” “It’s technically not a choke…” “Technically my ass! It’s called a choke!” The referee dives into position, checking to see if Landon gives up. Landon screams in pain, as Megan stands on the outside not knowing what to do. Landon waves his arms around, but has nowhere to go as Spike has him all tied up… *TAP TAP TAP* The referee sees the tap out and calls for the bell! *DING DING DING* “NO!” “Spike Jenkins pulls the upset victory over the SWF United States/Junior League Champion, Landon Maddix!” says a now excited Comet. “I don’t believe this!” Spike releases the hold as “The Song About Nothing” starts playing over the PA again. Spike gets to his feet, and holds his arms in the air in victory. The fans in the arena start chanting “Holl-E Wood” as he circles the ring. “Spike gets the non-title victory over the USJL Champion! Landon better be careful because next time, his title may be on the line!” “Don’t jinx him, Comet! THAT WAS A CHOKE HOLD DAMN IT!” “Anyway fans, we have to go to a quick commercial break. But when Storm returns, the SWF Tag Team Titles will be on the line, as Aecas and Janus, former members of the Trinity and the despisers of each other take on The In Crowd! Fan’s don’t go away, we will be right back!” Spike exits the ring and begins to make his way to the back as Megan Skye enters and hovers over Landon. She clutches the title to her chest, as SWF Storm goes to a commercial break.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Megan Skye, slightly perturbed by the aforementioned query, raises one eyebrow cautiously and places her right hand on her hip. She continues to look, caught off her guard; her mind sputtering for an answer. She was just minding her business, walking down the hall, when this guy looked away from the direction panels on the building wall and just asked her that—out of the blue! She turns and looks at him, catching him in mid swallow of a dark liquid, quickly noticing his obviously dyed blonde hair (she should know, she’s seen plenty of wannabe’s try and get her natural hair color) unshaved face and oddly enough, green eyes… But they’re hidden behind some yellow shades, although it’s kinda odd that he’d wear yellow sunglasses inside the building, but hey, he’s probably a wrestler from the looks of it and everyone knows they love their sunglasses… even in the dark. Skye shakes her head. “Uh, ex—excuse me?” “I said, do—” “I know what you said—I’m just wondering who you are and why you’d even be talking to me.” “Me, well… well I’m Ryan. Ryan Dustin; at your beck and call, but only if you’ll have me.” Ryan puts back another swig of the brown liquid in his glass bottle and chuckles. “Actually, I was hoping you could escort me to the commissioners office?” adds the man who’s name is obviously Ryan Dustin, now. Megan rolls her eyes, but sneaks another look at the man—in a grey suit, solid blue shirt and loosely hung silver tie. He has to be new, she astutely observes, or at least in for an interview. “I’ve got to get ready for Landon’s match. He’s on next, so you’ll have to find somebody else to take you to commissioner Zenon’s office.” “Landon?” “Landon Maddix, I’m his manager—his perfect 10,” adds Megan, looking up at the taller man she now knows as Ryan Dustin, for whatever that’s worth, “or I’m gonna’ be…” mumbles Skye under her breath. Now it is Ryan’s turn to arch an eyebrow, as the girl seems to be… blushing? “Versus?” prods Ryan. “Versus?” responds Megan, clearly forgetting the direction of this conversation, in lieu of something or maybe someone else. Ryan shakes his head a little and then a little light bulb goes off over her blonde locks. “Oh, versus, uh… “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins, not that it matters who he’s facing.” “Hollywood, eh…” adds Ryan, pondering over the name. Skye now seems to be blushing more. “Sorry, had a blonde moment.” Ryan’s eyes open wide at the ditz joke, and all of a sudden he cracks up laughing. After getting a hold of himself, Dustin takes a quick drink from his bottle. The girl has that expression on her face again that says, what in the hell’s ta’ matter with you. “Inside joke,” mentions Ryan dismissively, “so, you sure you couldn’t show me the way to the commissioners’ office, what was it?” “I didn’t say.” “Right, you didn’t.” “Oh—yeah, anyway, I need to find Landon.” “Well, hurry off kid… maybe I’ll see you around.” Ryan pats her on the ass, as she quickly takes off on her way through the corridors, now running with a look of slight indignation across her features, leaving a bemused Dustin to find his own way. If she had the time she might tell the guy off, but he did seem to have a charisma about him and… was he… maybe… a little drunk? Ryan checks out the retreating figure of Skye, who’s name he still doesn’t know, shrugs his shoulders and walks in the direction that Megan originally came in, but, now intrigued by the flashing graphic that comes up for the next match, he pauses. ““La Cucaracha”—and “Hollywood”… interesting, with Megan Skye... now this looks like it’ll be fun. Looks like these kids know how to wrestle…” A pause. “…Not like I know where I’m going anyway.” mumbles Dustin, as he hops onto an anvil case, setting down his left over three quarters of a bottle of Jack Daniels Whiskey, after one last sip. "Erm... Strong". He coughs out, as his green eyes focus on the monitor, the match getting ready to start…

“Ladies and gentlemen,” bellows Funyon, as we return from commercial break and the shows theme fades away. “The following contest will be a TRIPLE THREAT ELIMINATION match for the SMARTMARK WRESTLING FEDERATION CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP!” A tremendous cheer booms from the crowd, prompting our ring announcer, Funyon, to halt his introductions. As he does, the cameras pan over toward the table helmed by the commentating duo of Bobby Riley and Cyclone Comet. “Welcome back to SWF Storm, Citizens,” greets Comet. “You are just in time for our Cruiserweight Title match, and what a match this looks to be! For the first time ever in the SWF here, the Cruiserweight Championship will be decided in a triple threat match!” “Indeed,” chimes Bobby. “Austin Sly is making his first attempt at SWF gold here tonight, while Alan Clark, on the other hand, will be looking to regain the title from the same man he lost it to…Johnny Dangerous. Three men…and they all want the same thing… the Cruiserweight Title!” “This will also be Johnny’s first defense of the title on top of the emotional rollercoaster ride he’s been on since his partner, Wildchild, was savagely beaten by Mike Van Siclen, seemingly ending his career. With all of that, I have to say it won’t be an easy defense for the Barracuda…not by a long shot!” “Introducing first,” Funyon continues, as the sound of a storm in the distance picks up over the speakers along with the opening notes to “Wanted Dead or Alive”, and the audience, already knowing who is about to come out, begin to cheer mightily! “It looks like Alan Clark will be stepping through the curtain first tonight,” notes Comet, just before… BOOOOOOOOOOOM!! Thunder booms across the BSU Pavilion, jarring everyone loose from their seats, but suddenly…the rainstorm comes to a screeching halt and there is silence… … “Smile,” a soft-spoken voice finally breathes through the speakers before exploding in the hard driving beats of "Smile" by Taproot, and bringing Alan Clark out on stage to a mighty ovation from the Boise fans! Normally you would have seen Alan with a guitar slung over his shoulder, and wearing a smile from ear to ear. Tonight, however, he carries under his arm a thick book with a black vinyl cover -- “The Book of Clark,” exclaims Comet. “I tell you, Alan Clark is just begging for Landon to come out here and shove that book straight up his ass,” roars Bobby. “Maddix already destroyed Alan’s partner, Coy West, on Smarkdown and it looks like Alan will be next!” “From Long Beach, California, weighing two hundred twenty-five pounds, he is one half of the Wayward Sons, he is… AAAAAAALAN CLAAAAAAAAAAAARK!!” In the ring, Alan raises the Book of Clark to the fans, receiving another well-rounded pop, then heads out of the ring to deposit the book in a safe location. “Introducing second,” says Funyon as the BSU Pavilion is suddenly bathed in a cool blue hue as the sounds of an acoustic guitar -- strumming a rather powerful riff -- flows from the massive speakers, while boos flow from the crowd’s mouths! The song plays on, slowly growing louder and louder. All the while, the lights flicker, and seemingly, they grow more violent by the minute, pulsing in perfect time with the music… BOOOOOM!! Explosions rock the front of the stage, and as the smoke starts fanning off the ramp, Austin Sly strolls out onto the stage just as cockily as one could imagine! He pantomimes a title belt around his waist with a snicker, and struts down the ramp. “From St. Louis Missouri, and weighing in at two hundred thirty pounds, this is… AUUSTIIIIIIIIN SLY!!” “These Idaho fans don’t seem to be very keen on Austin Sly here tonight,” notes Comet. “I don’t think they have much to worry about though, this match is going to go down to the wire with Alan versus Johnny for the Championship.” “Oh, so you mean Alan and Johnny are going to team up to beat Austin,” ask Bobby. “I wouldn’t put it past them, but I don’t think it will matter…they can’t hold a candlestick to Austin Sly’s talents, not even together!” Austin and Alan stand on opposite lengths of the ring, pointing fingers and toward one another and promising defeat. “Hmm,” says Riley. “The trash talking has already begun between these two. Hopefully they’ll wait until Johnny struts out here before tearing into each other.” “Introducing last,” says Funyon, just before the lights dim, and a voice picks up on the speakers, whispering a name in a deep, sultry voice… “JOHNNY DANGEROUS~!” “After the Flesh” thunders out across the BSU Pavilion while the stage begins to fill with the haze of white smoke billowing out from the sides. Dozens of strobes light up the set, partially illuminating the Barracuda as he emerges through the cloud of smoke with the Cruiserweight Title strapped around his waist. He is dressed in his usual sleek-black casual attire with a pair of high-tech shades, but unlike the Johnny we have come to know in times past, his look is rather menacing to say the least. “From Las Vegas, Nevada,” continues Funyon, “and weighing in at two hundred and seventeen pounds, he is the SWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIOOOOON… JOOOOOHNNY ‘THE BARRACUDA’ DAAAANGEROUUUUUUS!!” “Look at him,” says Bobby. “He’s still pouting over the Wildchild deal. It’s obvious his head isn’t on straight enough to make it out of this match with the title.” “Quite frankly, I’m afraid of what he might do to our other competitors in the ring if he has the same viciousness in him as he did on Smarkdown,” Comet says. “I totally back the Barracuda for coming out of this match with the victory.” “What, you mean you don’t want Alan to win?” “Right now Citizen Clark has other issues to deal with – namely Landon Maddix. He needs to focus on that, and get the job taken care of for once and for all. Johnny, on the other hand, has nothing else but the Cruiserweight Championship. It is all that is left of the Wildchild, and his legacy. If Johnny wants truly wants to honor his fallen partner, he needs to put everything he’s got into making that belt THE belt of the under card…Johnny Dangerous HAS to win here tonight!” “Great Story, Comet, it really is. However, neither Alan nor Austin is going to just lie down for Johnny so he can keep Wildchild’s legacy alive. They have their own agendas with that belt, and it has nothing to do with Johnny Dangerous OR…the Wildchild’s legacy.” Johnny climbs into the ring and hands over the title to Matthew Kivell with absolutely no hesitation in the least. As Johnny strips of his trench coat and shades, Kivell displays the title to both Contenders then raises it to the audience, and finally, hands it off to a ringside assistant before signaling for the start of the match. DING! DING! DING! “Bells gone,” says Comet, “and we have us an old-fashioned stare down to kick this one off!” Sure enough, all three men keep their eyes on their opponents, slowly edging to the middle of the ring and waiting for someone to make the first move. Johnny, finally breaking the stalemate, rushes in and plants his fist right into Austin Sly’s mouth, popping the challenger’s head back! Wham! “Here we go,” exclaims Comet, as Johnny chases after Austin, pulling back on Sly’s arm and nailing him in the mouth a second time! “Now we are really underway!” Wham! Again Sly is sent reeling, falling against the ropes as Alan Clark storms in to join the fight! Clark shoves Austin against the ropes and cocks his hand back -- -- Johnny reaches out and grabs Alan’s out-stretched arm, snapping it backward with an arm wrench that elicits a howling cry of pain from Clark’s lips! Alan tries to pull out of the move and reverse, but just as he begins to move Johnny slings the tip of his foot into the Wayward Son’s midsection -- stopping him dead in his tracks – then cranks back on the arm wrench, giving it another snap! “So much for your theory of Citizen’s Clark and Dangerous teaming up to take out Sly,” scoffs Comet. “It appears to be everyman for himself here tonight! Austin tip-toes in from behind, placing all his faith into Johnny being so occupied with Alan Clark that the Barracuda won’t even detect Sly’s presence. He grabs around Johnny’s waist from behind, definitely catching the Secret Agent by surprise…but *like* a secret agent, Johnny’s reflexes are second to none, and he instinctively slings an elbow back, nailing Austin in his face, right between his eyes! Whack! And as quick as he came, Austin is gone, staggering backwards with a hand to his face, while Johnny, still holding his wrench on Alan kicks his foot out… CRACK! …and paste the sole of his shoe into Austin Sly’s mouth, flooring the Challenger instantaneously! Johnny turns back around towards Clark and leaps up, scissoring Alan’s arm between his legs and pulling the Wayward Son down to the canvas and locking in a crucifix armbar! “Johnny is really working that arm of Alan’s,” notes Comet. “If he pulls much harder he’ll rip it right out of its socket!” “So long as Austin Sly uses it to beat these other two clowns to death,” Riley tosses in. Alan cries out in pain, and he tries to worm his arm free, but the Barracuda isn’t feeding him so much as an inch tonight! Fortunately, for Clark, he’s in a triple threat match tonight and Austin scrambles back to his feet, rushes forward, leaps into the air… Whack! …and drops the point of his elbow directly into Johnny’s throat! “Whoa,” exclaims Comet. “Austin Sly is making his presence felt with that move – he’s picked up a nasty bit of intensity for tonight’s match!” Johnny bucks and flails, worming his way across the canvas as he writhes in utter pain! He’s stopped short from his little “episode” when Sly strolls right up and begins a vicious tap dance all over the Barracuda, sticking his foot into any open spot he can find! Meanwhile, Alan slithers away to the far side of the ring to regroup. Stomp! Stomp! Stomp! Ending his stomping game, Austin takes his foot and begins to crush the Barracuda’s throat – pressing the sole of his foot against Johnny’s neck! Kivell admonishes Sly’s actions, but the Challenger doesn’t pay no heed to the ref’s advice, instead forcing Kivell to utilize a count. “Incase you haven’t noticed before,” notes Bobby. “Austin Sly is quite the ring technician, and he’s showing his prowess her by completely destroying that thing holding Johnny’s head to his body!” “You mean his neck? ONE! TW-NOO!! As Austin places his hands on his hips, bouncing on the ball of one foot, Johnny swings his leg up, and hooks it around the front side of Austin, dropping him back-first to the mat! Johnny quickly traps Austin’s leg, scissoring it with both legs and grabs the Challenger’s ankle and twist on it for all it’s worth! “RAAAAAAAAAH!!” “What a reversal,” cheers Comet, as Austin shrills in pain. “Johnny caught Citizen Sly completely off-guard there and trapped him in another Martial Art’s based submission – the deadly ankle lock!” “Why is Alan just standing there and watching all this go down,” cries Bobby. “He should help Austin before Johnny forces him to submit!” “This is an elimination match, you tool! If Johnny can eliminate Austin Sly than that is one less person Alan will have to go through. He can focus entirely on Johnny and the Cruiserweight Championship!” Thankfully, if you’re an Austin Sly fan, the ropes loom *very* close. Austin notices this as well and he quickly reaches back with both hands while gritting down on his teeth…and snags the rope with both hands! Kivell immediately calls for the break, and Johnny, though silently damning himself for allowing Austin to slip away, obliges. He stands to his feet and strolls over to Austin, pulling the challenger to his feet with a quick arm wrench, and stepping forward to whip him across the ring. Austin heads off with a noticeable limp and he tries to shake it off, not even noticing Alan Clark moving into the line of fire… SMACK! “WHOOOOO!” SMACK! “WHOOOOO!” …and runs right into a *double* knife-edged chop by Alan Clark that sends him staggering back! He clutches his chest, gritting his teeth as Alan grabs him by the other arm to whip him BACK across the ring, back from which he came. Johnny approaches – “Just look at that,” says Bobby, quite cross. “Those two clowns are going to double team poor Austin… I thought this was everyman for himself?” Alan keeps his eyeballs locked so hard on Johnny’s eyes that he doesn’t even see the Barracuda’s foot swing up, kicking Clark in the gut! “Oof!” “See there,” points Comet. Alan doubles over, clenching his stomach. “It IS everyman for himself in there, however…I think Alan was hoping for a little assistance from the Barracuda to his dismay.” Johnny simply shoves Alan to the mat, removing Clark from his intended victim, which at this time…is Austin Sly. He spins on his heel to face Austin again… WHAM!! Turning directly into a well-packed punch from Austin, that pops the Cruiserweight Champion’s head back! Johnny is stunned for a brief second, and that second is all Austin needs…or so he had hoped. He swings for the Barracuda’s skull again, but Johnny dodge’s this blow – hooking Sly’s arm and using the leverage to force the Challenger down across his knee! “And just like that,” says Comet, “the Barracuda has kept control of this match. For a second I thought he was about to loose it, but he held on right there.” Hunkered over and holding his gut, Austin tries to hobble to safety, but before he even gets a step away Johnny snaps on a front-face lock and takes off for the side of the ring, pulling Sly along for the ride! He hops over the top rope to the floor, clotheslining Austin across the top rope to a tremendous cheer! Austin grabs his neck with both hands, simply writhing at the pain as he staggers backward… WHAAM!! Into a dropkick from Alan Clark, that propels Austin through the middle rope, and out of the ring… “Watch out, Johnny!” …and plowing right into the Cruiserweight Champion, knocking him to the thinly-padded concrete floor! “This looks more like a car wreck…and like those bad drivers on the highway, I can’t help but break my neck trying to get a glimpse,” muses Riley, amongst a rising cheer from the crowd. “I hope these guys have insurance!” “Oh…look…Alan’s going up top,” notes Comet, as Clark ascends a corner turnbuckle. “What’s he up to?” On the outside, Austin and Johnny climb to their feet while slinging punches into each other’s face, unaware of Clark standing on the top of the turnbuckle with his back to them. The crowd on the other hand is more than aware, and they rise to their feet cheering wildly! Clark acknowledges them with a salute, then back-flips off the turnbuckle to the outside… WHAAAAM!! CRASHING INTO BOTH JOHNNY AND AUSTIN WITH A MOONSAULT MARKED BY A THUNDEROUS CHEER FROM THE IDAHO FANS! “By Thor’s hammer,” exclaims Comet. “Citizen Clark just took out both of his opponents with a moonsault from the turnbuckle -- what a hit! This is now a three car pile up, Robert!” “AAAAL-AN!” “AAAAL-AN!” “AAAAL-AN!” Kivell moves to the edge of the ring as he starts the count out, but before he can get much farther than two, Clark rises back to his feet. He grabs onto the Barracuda’s thick black mane and jerks him to his feet, then rolls him back into the ring, closely following after. Johnny rolls onto his stomach, clenching his back as he pushes off the mat with one arm, but Alan knocks the Barracuda over onto his back and drops an elbow into his sternum! “Alan’s taking the fight straight to the Champion,” notes Comet. “If he can knock the Barracuda out of the match first, he might have a far easier time taking the win against Austin Sly.” “He just might,” Riley informs, “cause we have a cover!” ONE!! TWO!! NO!! Johnny kicks out, and rolls back over onto his stomach, reaching for the ropes to pull himself back up! He’s certainly hurting now, and the expression on his face telegraphs it to the world…and more importantly to Alan Clark. Clark himself lets a smile cross his mouth as he moves in on Johnny and shoves him back into a turnbuckle – SMACK! “WHOOOOO!” SMACK! “WHOOOOO!” SMACK! “WHOOOOO!” SMACK! “WHOOOOO!” Unloading with a series of eye-watering knife-edged chops, lighting up Johnny’s chest! Alan tucks his chops away, and ducks down, thrusting his shoulder into the Barracuda’s midsection, and knocking the wind right out of his pipes! Alan ducks underneath Johnny, wrapping his arms around the Barracuda’s legs then stands up with Johnny draped over his back for a Alabama Slam! He takes a running three steps forward then slings Johnny over his shoulders… WHAAAM!! “The Southern Rock,” calls Comet, as the Barracuda slams back-first into the canvas with a sickening thud! “That will certainly take the starch out of you, and for Johnny…it just may have taken then Cruiserweight Title off his waist!” “We could only hope,” adds Bobby, spitefully. “If it winds up back around Alan’s waist though, I’m going to get *very* unpleasant.” “What do you mean by your going to? Since when have you ever been pleasant?” Alan drops over Johnny once more. As expected, Kivell slides in to count… ONEE!! TWOOO!!! TH-NOOOO!!!! “Damn,” curses Bobby. “Who gave him more starch!” “Apparently, Alan must have only knocked one crease out of Johnny’s pants,” says Comet. “He’s got some fight still left in him!” Johnny staggers to his feet, stunned out of his mind still, and puts up absolutely no hesitation as Alan swoops in from behind, hooking the Barracuda’s leg with one arm and grabbing Johnny’s near arm with the other, and hauling him up, and over… “Oh, my…” AND COMPLETELY SHATTERS JOHNNY’S SHOULDER’S AND NECK WITH THE BARRACUDA’S OWN FALLAWAY SLAM!! “RAAAAAAAAAAH!!!” “By Zeus, an MI Slam,” shouts Comet. “Alan just used Johnny’s own finisher against him – desperate to send the Barracuda packing he MUST be!” Johnny hits the mat and his body bounces off the canvas, flopping to the ring once more…and rolling right out of the ring, dropping to the outside floor like a freshly shot deer! “What a tremendous series of moves by the challenger, Alan Clark,” exclaims Comet. “Johnny might have inadvertently avoided a pin, but Alan just very well might have put Johnny down for the entire twenty-count!” “That’d be one hell of a slap to the face for Johnny Dangerous,” pipes Riley. “He’s the Champion right now, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be eliminated first. If anything, we will be crowning a new Champion tonight, and for that, Alan Clark…I love you! Unfortunately, I don’t think that crown will be settling on Alan’s head; he wore himself out quite a bit just trying to dispatch of Johnny Dangerous!” Alan takes a step away from the ropes, raising both arms out to the fans as Kivell slides out of the ring to check on Johnny then begin the count out. However, unbeknownst to him, Austin Sly is lurking in the distance with a scowl on his face. He slithers in from behind, sneaking up on Alan like he’s Ryu Hayabusa… “Watch out, Citizen Clark,” warns Comet, but his warnings fall on deaf ears, and Austin quickly pumps his fist in between Alan’s legs, right in the crotch, to a howl of boos! “Whoa,” cries Comet. “That was an illegal low blow -- Matthew Kivell should disqualify Citizen Sly for that!” “Like hell he should,” snaps Bobby. “The ref didn’t see the offense occur and as *such* making a call on it when he didn’t pay witness to it would be completely and totally absurd!” Clark’s hands instinctively move to cradle his jewels as his jaw drops to the canvas, and Austin reaches from behind, pulling the Wayward Son over with a textbook schoolboy rollup! “Dear Zeus, no,” roars Comet, but Kivell, oblivious to the illegal nut-shot, quickly spots the pin and slides back into the ring. He begins to count, paying no mind to Austin as he gets his feet up on the ropes for some extra leverage against Alan, who is failing his arms desperately. “Don’t count that, ref, look at Austin, LOOK!” ONEEE!!!! TWOOOOO!!!!!!!! THREEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!! “Yes,” cheers Riley. He excitedly throws his hands into the air as Austin hops off the ropes a nanosecond before Kivell swivels his head towards the timekeeper signaling for the elimination! DING! DING! DING! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” As the crowd roars in defiance, Alan jumps to his feet and gets right in Kivells face! He tries as he might to desperately explain the low blow and underhanded tactics – waving one finger in the ref’s face while griping his groin with his other hand, but the referee is hearing NONE of it tonight – not one bit! With one swift motion, Kivell snaps his arm out… pointing his finger toward backstage to another loud boo! “And take that stupid Book of Clark with you!” Finally, yet begrudgingly, Clark leaves the ring and makes his way up the ramp, but not before collecting his book and turning toward one snickering Austin Sly and promising retribution! “Ho-ho-ho,” sniggers Bobby. “Look who’s pulling their BIG OLD bright-red boot out of their mouth now! Alan Clark has been eliminated…so much for your predictions of a Johnny-Alan finale, Spandex-pants!” “Citizen Clark wasn’t eliminated, he was robbed! How will Citizen Sly be able to live with himself after that kind of treachery?” “I’m sure the Cruiserweight Title will be more than enough comfort,” Riley says, rather smugly. “All Austin needs to do now is make good on Alan’s handiwork and that title is as good as his!” “I highly doubt that! Citizen Sly may have eliminated Alan Clark, but there is no way he can pin Johnny too.” “He already proved you wrong once,” says Riley. “Besides, if you ask me, I think Austin’s going to make him tap like a straight punk-ass b(Bleep!)h!” “Nobody asked!” Austin slides out of the ring and makes his way over to Johnny, who is just starting to gather his bearings and is up on his hands and knees. However, all it takes is one well placed stomp to the back from the Challenger, and the Barracuda is driven face-first into the floor! Comet winces, “Man… Citizen Sly is going to be a marked man if he keeps this kind of stuff up.” “Well he’s going to be counted out if he stays out there to long that’s a definite,” notes Bobby, the referee having started a count out on the two men. “What strikes me as odd, however, is why Kivell waited for Austin to slide out of the ring before starting his count. I mean, come on… he should already be at ten at least just with Dangerous.” “It’s kind of hard to count somebody out when the ref has to count a pin-fall,” Comet defensively replies. “Not that he should have counted it in the first place, but…” WHAM! “Oh, another stomp to the back,” shouts Comet, Austin having spiked the heel of his boot into the small of Johnny’s back. “I tell you, this villain is just trying to embarrass the Cruiserweight Champion out there; there’s no need for all that!” “Like there is a need for Johnny to begin with,” snaps Bobby. “The Barracuda is an embarrassment by himself to this federation!” As Kivell finally reaches the count of “SIX”, Sly grabs Johnny by his chin and pulls him to his feet. He snaps in a quick headlock on the Barracuda, walking him to the edge of the ring, but before rolling the Secret Agent back in… WHACK! Austin plows Johnny’s head into the ring apron, and the Barracuda’s head bounces off like a well-aired basketball! Johnny staggers backwards in an utter daze before the Challenger snaps on another headlock and walks Dangerous to the ring, this time actually rolling him inside. “About time he decided to take the action back in the ring where it belongs,” mutters Comet. Austin rolls in behind the Secret Agent, and immediately goes for a cover – two palms into Johnny’s chest, and nodding snidely as Kivell drops to count. “Well,” says Bobby, smacking his lips. “Looks like He’s going to pin both Johnny and Alan on the same night after all.” “It’s not his pin to take,” grumbles Comet. “This was Citizen Clark’s!” ONEE!! TWOOO!!! THR-NOOO!!!! To a roar of cheers, Johnny thrusts his shoulder into the air! Austin jumps to his feet and goes right to the ref, putting three fingers in Kivell’s face. “Austin’s trying to dispute the count; he thinks that should have been three,” notes Comet. “I’d like to dispute him even being in this match still!” “And I’d like to dispute you being my announcing partner,” snaps Bobby. “I’m filing for a divorce!” “As long as you leave me the house and kid’s, that would be just dandy!” Johnny start’s to get to his feet, but before he can get much farther than sitting up on his knees, Austin slides in from behind and kicks his foot into Johnny’s back! THWACK!! Johnny grips his back, howling in pain and the Challenger lets loose with another kick, this time knocking Johnny into the mat once more! Austin floats over, grabbing Johnny’s leg and locks in his deadly half crab to a tremendous boo! “THIS IS IT,” cheers Riley. “Nobody escapes the crab, and it’s high time somebody used it against the Barracuda!” “On most occasions I’d tell you Austin hasn’t done nearly any damage to Johnny’s leg, but with the Barracuda simply drained this could spell the end!” “AHHHH,” cries Johnny, trying his hardest to fight back the surging pain! He shoves off the mat with both hands, and looks towards the nearby ropes. Slowly, but surely, he begins inching his way across the ring, digging his fingers into the mat and pulling forward as the crowd begins to chant his name! “JOHN-NY!” “JOHN-NY!” “JOHN-NY!” “COME ON, JOHNNY,” shouts Comet, dripping with frustration. “You can’t let yourself fall…not like this! Don’t let the Wildchild have fallen in vain!” “Will you shut up,” hisses Bobby. “Austin is just paying Johnny back for bruising his foot with that ankle lock earlier. Now it’s Austin Sly’s turn to leave the bruising!” Austin sees the ropes getting closer, and he knows the stronger Barracuda WILL in fact make it to them, so he lets go of the foot, spins around, and begins stomping the holy hell out of the Secret Agent’s back! Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham! The crowd boos with GUSTO~, not wanting to see the Cruiserweight Champion fall to the evil of Austin Sly, but the Challenger dismisses them with a wave and pulls the Barracuda into a standing head-scissors! “Earthquake coming right up,” Bobby shouts, gleefully. “This is the end of the Wild and Dangerous legacy right here, and the beginning of a new one!” Austin bends over to lock his hands around the Barracuda’s waist – “Yes, sir…this is the end of the line! Nice knowing you, Johnny Dangerous, you sucked too the end!” BUT JOHNNY SUDDENLY POWERS OUT OF THE HEAD-SCISSORS, GRABBING ONTO AUSTIN’S ARM AS ROLLS OUT OF THE MOVE, PULLS THE CHALLENGER’S ARM BACK AND… WHACK!! “RAAAAAAAAAAH!!” “SHOTEI!” WHACK!! “SHOTEI,” exclaims Comet. “The Barracuda is FIGHTING with EVERYTHING he has left now -- he isn’t going to let the Cruiserweight Title escape his clutches that easy!” Austin – stunned out of not only his, but his momma’s mind as well, stumbles backwards and nearly into the ropes, and he would have if not for the Barracuda grabbing him by his wrist, and pulling him back up! Johnny steps forward, whipping the Challenger across the ring – -- NO! Austin slams on the breaks, and uses what little he has left to reverse the whip, sending Johnny across the ring instead! He hits the ropes and springs back toward the Challenger! Austin steps in, looking for a clothesline… WHOOSH!! “Nobody home,” says Comet, as the Barracuda ducks under the arm! Austin quickly spins around… KA-RAAAAAACK!! “Johnny Kick,” grumbles Bobby, as the Barracuda’s foot SLICES~ through the air and SLAMS~ into the Challenger’s jaw, shattering it to a million pieces! “God damn it, now THAT should be a banned move!” Austin is knocked for a loop and he plummets face-first to the ring, lifelessly landing in a heap, Johnny drops down and hooks onto Austin’s leg, pinning him to the mat with total AUTHORITY~! “What a come back for Johnny Dangerous,” shouts Comet, “but can he capitalize?” ONEEE!!!! TWOOOOO!!!!!!!! THREEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!! DING! DING! DING! “After the Flesh” thunders through the Pavilion once more, and after signaling the timekeeper to end the match, Kivell fetches the Cruiserweight Championship and returns to Johnny. He hands the Barracuda his belt back then grabs Johnny by his arm, raising it in victory! “The winner of this match,” booms Funyon, “and STIIIIIIL SMARTMARK WRESTLING FEDERATION CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIOOOOOON…of the WOOOOOOOORLD…JOOOOOOOHN-NY DAAANGEROUUUUS!!!!” “What did I tell you, Citizen Robert,” says Comet. “Johnny Dangerous prevailed in a match that would make the Wildchild proud – this legacy is unstoppable!” “Hmph! Austin Sly will get another chance, and when he does… Johnny better watch out cause that title will be Austin’s!” Johnny clutches the Cruiserweight Championship, holding it close to his heart as the crowd simply goes ballistic, AND… As we: FADE OUT.