Thoth

Just an announcement that Zack Malibu has now debuted with the SWF. YEAAAAA BOIIIIII~

It's a baseball field? Dammit, I didn't know these details. I just got a website with every arena ever, that's all.

THEY PUT THE SPORTS TEAM BACK IN LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO2003

Impressive show, guys. Even with the double no-shows, exciting stuff. Card to be posted after I eat some fucking Jack-In-The-Box.

The endless orange of the lights in the carpark of the Joe Louis Arena provide a sterile, lonely atmosphere and another reminder of the perpetual highlight of the urban sprawl and concrete jungle of the Motor City. A chill hangs in the air of this spring night; it's cold, humid and miserable. A perfect place for Alex Zenon. The interim SWF commissioner rumbles through a stairway door into the parcade, with much more force than necessary, a frustrated look on his face and a cellphone to one ear. "Can you hear me now?" he spits to whoever is on the other end of the line. Alex scowls as he listens to the response, and allows himself a little sarcasm, grumbling out "Well, that's good. Now that we've gotten this far, I'm going to repeat this for the last time... do you know where MARK STEVENS is?" ... "No, he'd be with his wife Lynn." ... "LYNN!" Alex barks, obviously talking to some kind of receptionist. "Wha...? No, STEVENS! S-T-E-V..." ... "Look, buddy, if you can't speak English how the fuck did you get this jo... oh, last night, huh? Not on records. Really." ... "Uh-huh, you'll look. You do that," Alex seethes as he stands around in the cold carpark. He's been on the phone for ten minutes, trying to get connected to anyone. Anything that gets him talking to Mark Stevens. The look on his face lightens (very) slightly as he hears a response some moments later. "Room 1320... so you have to connect to line 691? Alright, thank you," says Alex, voice dripping with acidic sarcasm, as he waits for the receptionist to punch him through. He mutters a few unprintable slurs under his breath as he listens to a ringtone until, finally... "Hello?" "MARK!" shouts Alex, a mix of relief and anger in his voice. "Alex! How did you get this number?" "Through no small amount of effort," Zenon mutters. "I've been trying to reach you for three days. Your cell has been off, or something." "Yeah, the battery burned out. I haven't had time to replace it, since I was home barely a day before I had to take Lynn to the hospital and... well, let me just say it's happening a lot faster than with Chris." "Well, I'm glad everything's going alright on your end," Zenon drones. "Yeah... I was going to give you a call after this next show, to make sure you weren't having any problems, but I just haven't had the time before now. Hell, I shouldn't really be talking to you right--" "Mark, this is important," snaps Alex. "Calling me after tonight's show would be too late!" "What is it? What's wrong?" Alex pauses for a minute, thinking about exactly what he's trying to say, and then speaks. Coldly. "After you left, I read the new contracts folder, Mark." There is a long, uncomfortable pause on the other end of the line. "...I see..." "Mark... I want the authorization to termanite that contract." "What? Alex, come on, this is--" "No, YOU come on, Stevens!" shouts Alex. "How could you do that to me? How could you give that... that... son of BITCH a second chance? A third? How could you SIGN HIM to another contract, after EVERYTHING he's done to this federation? To me? To you? ...to everyone else that was in the Carnival?" "Listen to me, Alex. I let him back under probation. I considered everything about him before I signed that contract. What I especially considered was what I got with his medical report: His detox analysis, therapy observation and psycho-analysis. I gave him a second chance because he EARNED a second chance--" "What!?" screams Alex. "Cleaned up his act my ASS. This is complete bullshit, Mark! I know him better than anyone else except his brother, MAYBE excluding Edwin. He's lying, Stevens, and he's real good at it!" Alex spits, contempt oozing out of every pour in his body. He inhales deeply. "And I believe you think any of this shit is true." "This is absurdity, Alex! I understand you're upset, but this is ridiculous. You can't lie about rehab, and you can't fake being clean!" "Old habbits die hard," murmus Zenon. "Look... I gave you this job because I trust you, and I trust that you're going to handle this like a professional. None of this petty grudge crap. He's a big enough man to get over his, and I'm a big enough man to look past them and realize he means this. You need to see this as well." The look on Alex Zenon's face is one of complete and utter disbelief. Breathing heavily, he runs a hand over his face, through his hair, and lets it drop by his side. "Oh, Mark... Mark... you sound like fuckin' beaten wife, you know that?" There is a moment of absolute zero on the other line. Mark Stevens speaks up again, but his voice is icy and deliberate. "Listen to me, Zenon, and listen good. This is his life, his last refuge, and all that this man has left. You will not take it away from him. Do NOT forget that you were not owed any second chances either, but I've given you one, and I've given you one beyond the sweat, blood and tears of the ring. Who are you to refuse this?" Alex's breathing steadily increases, as he tries to control the anger building up within him. Raggedly, he breathes into the phone, "I am..." "No-one!" ...pause... "Now I'm not going to hear any more of these childish, petty complaints! That contract is iron clad, and you're not going near it. Don't make me think I've made a mistake by leaving you in charge." Alex Zenon stares a hole through the concrete. His silence is golden. "Now you have a job to do, and you do it right. And I have a wife to take care of, so this phone call is over. I don't know when, or where, but I'll check in with you whenever I've got the time. Is everything I've said to you clear?" Zenon trembles. "Crystal." "Excellent. Good bye, Alex." His eyes unwavering from the ground, Alex takes the cell phone from his ear and clicks the power. Anger, hatred, frustration, grief, worry, pain... a thousand emotions burn within him. Suppressing the urge to throw his phone clear across the car park, he slowly puts it into his jacket pocket and sighs. "This job gets worse all the time..."

The Motor City crowd hasn’t been this wild and energetic since the unpredictable anarchy worshiping shows of the MC5 and Iggy Pop. It’s time for the Main Event, but first the special guest commentator must delay things by having a full entrance. "NO NO NOTORIOUS!" For whatever reason, the musical genius of Duran Duran fades into Spineshank's "Synthetic," as John Duran emerges from the locker room. In ritualistic heel fashion, Duran runs his mouth at the fans as he struts down the down aisle like he owns the place. Comet: Welcome back to SWF Storm! Coming up right now is the main event of the evening, in which we will see Danny Williams taking on the SWF World Champion, Charlie Matthews in a non title match. Given both these men’s styles, I think we can expect to see a classic display of the so called technical wrestling. Riley: Oh joy, a technical classic. You might as well pimp the match as the best thing since Night Quill. Finding his way over to the announce table, Duran pulls himself out a very tiny chair, and carefully takes a seat. He looks ridiculous, like a giant setting in doll furniture, but Riley isn’t gonna say anything. Riley: Mr. John Duran, what a pleasure to have you with us. Duran: Yeah.. Comet: So what brings you to our fair announce table, citizen Duran? Duran: I’m here to watch that coward, Charlie Matthews, wrestling somebody other than myself. Matthews knows that I’ve been gunning for him forever now, and what does this punk do? Instead of facing me like any man with a sack would, he signs a contract for this non-title match with often injured hack Danny Williams. The Jester’s Dance begins to quietly play, and the fans go nuts! Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen it is now time for the Main Event of the evening! The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and is a non title bout. Introducing first, weighing in at a 245 pounds, hailing form Louisville, Kentucky........DANNY WILLIAMS! Pushing his way through drapery that hangs above the locker room entrance, the bulky figure of Danny Williams comes charging out on to the ramp. Focused and intense as always, Williams marches down to the ring, keeping his eyes straight ahead. Comet: After coming up short in a tag match against Toxxic and Liston last week, you just know that Danny Williams is going to be extra motivated tonight, especially since he’s going up against the Champion of World. Duran: This is like what his fifth comeback, what is he the Cher of the SWF? Riley: But unlike Cher, Danny Williams doesn’t keep getting better and better. I mean, have you heard Cher’s last album, it’s just as fantastic as her old stuff! Duran: ??? Bouncing around, Williams works up sweat, warming up for what is sure to be a grueling contest. Than the house lights go out, and Metallica comes blasting over the loud speakers in all their overrated glory! Funyon: And his opponent, weighing in at a staggering 300 pounds, hailing from Kansas City, Missouri.....HE IS THE SWF WORLD CHAMPION......CHARLIE “THE GRAPPLER” MATTHEWSsssssssssssssssss!!! Once more, the crowd cheers and screams as the World Champion makes his grand, well low key entrance. Matthew’s slow methodical march to the ring nearly mirrors Danny Williams’ entrance if not entirely beats it out in the slow methodical approach department. Despite the contest being non-title, the Grappler still proudly wears the gold around this waist for all to see. Duran: Look at this loser, he looks like a damn cave man! Riley: He needs a wax and pronto. Body hair can be such a nuisance when your trying to make sweet love to your man....or so I’ve heard. Duran: Can you trade me seats, Comet. Comet: I don’t know about that, but the World Champion certainly isn’t taking this contest lightly. Citizen Williams is after all a former World Champion himself, and a victory over him could mean a lot to credibility of his title reign. There’s a strange aura in the building, the type of atmosphere that can only be found when you’ve got to popular faces squaring off in a battle of superiority. Showing their mutual respect, Williams and the Grappler politely shake hands, before taking position in their corners. With both men ready and in place, Soapdish calls for the bell! DING! DING! DING! Both men slowly leave the sanctuary of their corners, pre-cautiously circling each other, hesitant to make the first move. As in most face/face matches, the crowd is totally split right down the middle. Attempting to top the other in the volume department, one side of the arena shouts”DAN-E!” while the other shouts “CHAR-LEE!” right back at em in a endless contest for vocal cord superiority. Despite all this ruckus going on, neither man takes much notice as they are far to focused on each other. Comet: What a fantastic crowd, they’ve been making noise all night. Riley: Their loud, but their dumb. If they had any brains, they’d be chanting “DUH-RAN!” right now. Duran: Do you really think I need these mutant’s support? Riley: Of course you don’t, who said you did? I hope the bastard that said that burns in hell, Duran doesn’t need any of your support, you.....mutants! The ceaseless circling of impending doom finally comes to an end when Williams takes it upon himself to act as the aggressor. Lunging forward, Danny instigates a collar elbow tie up of monstrous proportions. Thanks to his considerable height advantage, Charlie Matthews doesn’t experience any difficulty in muscling his smaller adversary down into a suffocating side headlock. Matthews grip his strong and tight, but a run into the ropes frees Williams from his clutches. However, a new problem ensues when the bulky World Champion comes bouncing back at Williams like a rhinoceros from hell! Blam! Charlie stampedes over Williams with a bruising shoulder tackle that would make NFL legend Reggie White say,”that kid’s got a nice shoulder tackle, and who knows, in a few more seasons he might even make second string.” Comet: Citizen Williams may have super strength, but even he’s more powerful than a locomotive. Riley: Bah! If that was John Duran in there, Charlie Matthews would be the one on his ass right now. Duran: Your absolutely right, Bobby. If that so called “locomotive” was to try run over me, his ass would get derailed! Seeing stars, Williams helplessly wanders to his feet only to walk into bone jarring Scoop Slam! Poised and ready, Matthews waits for Danny to make the mistake of getting up again. Once Williams makes that mistake, the World Champion takes him over with a “graceful for a neanderthal” arm drag! Like any proficient wrestler, Charlie segues the takedown into a tight arm bar. Working the hold, Matthews gives Danny’s arm a little wrench causing the former World Champion to yelp out in pain. Rolling away from the increasing pressure, Danny fights his way up to a vertical base only to find himself in the same predicament he was before, except now he’s standing up. Sliding his grip down to a wristlock, Charlie painfully twists Williams arm with a career threatening arm wringer. Despite seemingly being in control, Charlie Matthews made a huge mistake by trading in the arm bar for the wristlock! Exploiting his new found freedom of movement, Williams rolls to the canvas, returning to his feet with a dazzling one handed cartwheel! And in fluid motion of acrobatic excellence, Williams snatches control of the match out from underneath the Grappler’s big ugly nose! Bedazzled by this magic show, Matthews snaps out of his trance, realizing that he is the one who is now in the wristlock! Comet: Wow, what a reversal! When it comes to escaping holds, citizen Williams is a real Dillinger. Riley: You kidding, Duran could do that blindfolded with both hands tied behind his back, and a chicken shoved up his ass. Comet: Really, a live chicken or a dead one? Duran: Both! Like the big lovable brute that he is, Matthews just grabs Williams up, and flips him over his shoulder. Danny crash lands on the canvas, finding himself in yet another one of those annoying wristlocks. Not sweating it one bit, Williams shockingly returns to his feet with an impressive kip up! Once more, Matthews is caught off guard by his opponent’s jaw dropping athleticism, and sure enough the Grappler lets Williams reverse another wristlock. Riley: Charlie Matthews is just a cave man, a cave man who’s scared and confused by Danny Williams flippy flop gymnastics. Duran: Bwahahahahaha! Tod Damn, your one funny sonuvabitch, Bobby! You know the Unnamed could use a flamboyant homosexual male manager.... Riley: Hey Comet, this guy just offered you a job. Having it up to here with Danny’s flashy moves, Charlie simply begins to wail on his captor’s head with a barrage of right hands, because his right arm just happens to be his free arm. Despite getting his head knocked around like one of those silly novelty bobble head things, Williams somehow manages to keep the wristlock applied. Moving to plan B, Charlie snatches a handful of Williams’ hair, and runs him face first into the top turnbuckle! The repeated head trauma finally forces Williams to release his kung fu grip so that he may slide to the canvas, and bury his face in his hands. Free from that pesky wristlock, Charlie begins to frantically shake his arm out in a desperate attempt to return circulation to his fingers. Comet: It would seem that citizen Matthews is gonna turn this into a brawl. Duran: Watch him lose that too, trust me, this guy isn’t good at anything. Riley: Yeah, I bet he has no idea how to please another man. Comet: And you do? Riley: Sur...NO, of course not! Once he gets his arm moving again, the Grappler moves in on Williams, who is just now climbing to his feet. But when Charlie gets too close, Danny defends himself with a good old fashioned boot to the gut. The kick deflates Matthews, stopping him dead in his tracks. Grabbing the oxygen depraved Champion by his shoulders, Williams spins him around so that it is now he who has his back in the corner. At long last, Williams brandishes his trade mark elbows, using them to mutilate the World Champion’s face! Needless to say, the intense action has the fans going crazy! Riley: I bet your liking this, John? Duran: Todd Damn! The only thing better than crushing your enemy is to watch someone else crush your enemy. I’d prefer it was an Unnamed member in there, but you take what you can get. Reminding Williams who the World Champion is, Matthews snatches Williams up, and turns him around! Not letting Williams elbows go un-punished, the Grappler becomes the Striker, mauling his cornered victim with some damaging punches! Comet: At a staggering 300 pounds, Citizen Matthews is the last person you want hammering on you in a corner. Riley: Duran, you’ve been in the ring with Matthews before, how hard would you say his punches are? Duran: He couldn’t hurt a kitten with those punches. Comet: I would like to meet these invincible kittens of yours, they intrigue me. Whacking him with a few more right hands for good measure, Matthews brings Williams out of the corner with a HIGH hiptoss! Shaking up, Danny hustles to his feet when Charlie comes charging out of the corner at him. Mustering all the speed his huge frame is capable of, Mathews leaps into the air, and kicks his legs out... Smack! blasting Williams with a surprisingly beautiful Dropkick, though to be honest the landing almost kills the poor guy! Bad landing or not, Williams is in far worse shape as he is sent flying across the Atlantic Ocean......to the other side of the ring. Comet: Holy cow, you don’t see Charlie Matthews do that very often! To a roaring ovation, Matthews energetically jumps to his feet in celebration of the amazing(for him) thing he did. The World Champion even goes so far as to point at Duran, as if to say,”That one was for you, punk!” Duran: Just keep your eyes on your opponent, Mr. World Champion. Can you believe that guy, he hit’s one measly Dropkick, and acts like it’s the greatest thing he’s ever done? Riley: My grandfather has a better Dropkick than that, and he doesn’t even have any legs, plus he’s dead. Bobbing up and down all feisty like, Charles stands poised and ready, eagerly anticipating Williams’ next move. Williams starts to stir, and Charles points at Duran one more time, dedicating this move to him as well. Waiting for Danny to rise, the Grappler dips his knees to the mat, and jumps straight up in the air! Matthews throws his legs out for the Dropkick, but Danny casually steps to the side, letting the big guy flop on the mat in embarrassment! Duran: Dahahahahahahaha! Comet: It would seem that citizen Charles got a little over excited, perhaps Duran’s presence here at the announce booth distracted him. Riley: You can’t let what’s going on outside the ring distract you, a World Champion should know this. Take me for instance, back in my day there were thousands of beautiful half naked women in the audience, but you better believe I kept my eyes on the sweaty man in front of me. Comet: Why am I not surprised. Before the Grapper can get up, Williams quickly clamps on a sprawling front facelock. With the World Champion safely tucked away underneath him, Williams twitches his head from side to side, shaking a few troublesome cob webs loose. The swollen balloon like biceps of Danny Williams twitch and swell as he squeezes the life out of the World Champion. Growing more weary with each passing second he spends in the hold, Charlie frantically pushes his way up to his feet. Knowing that it’s never a good idea to keep a front facelock on someone who’s bigger than you from the vertical base, Williams smartly adjusts his grip to a more safer side headlock. Dripping with seat, Williams grunts as he adds maximum pressure to the headlock, clotting the blood flow to the big guy’s brain. Duran: Why the hell isn’t Williams working the neck? He’s got a perfect opportunity to grind the hell out of it right now, but he’s just squeezing his head! Comet: Perhaps Citizen Williams feels that there is no honor in attacking an injury. If he’s going to win, he wants to win fair. Riley: That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, honor has no place in a wrestling ring. Now suffering from a migraine, Matthews decides that it will now be a good time to muscle his way out of this headlock. Wiggling his hands underneath Williams’ forearm, giving his head some relief. Using his always superior power, the Grappler begins to vigorously pry Danny’s outside arm off his head. Williams tries to match Charlie’s effort, but he just can’t seem to find enough power to hold the big guy down. Turning out from underneath Williams, the Grappler brutishly reverses the headlock into a overhead wristlock test of strength. Warming up, the fans start to make some noise as Williams and Matthews strain their muscles in a exhausting battle of wills. Spit flies, sweat pours, back muscles protrude, low grunts echo, but despite all this hard work neither man can sustain an advantage. Comet: It looks like we got a stalemate on our hands. Riley: This is pathetic, Matthews has got at least 50 pounds on Williams, and the little guy is still giving him trouble. Duran: Yeah, imagine what it will be like when he’s in there with a powerhouse like my self. That is if the coward will quit dogging me! After what seems like an eternity, Matthews starts to gain an upper hand. Leaning forward with his weight, the Grappler forces Williams to arch his back to the point that he’s bridging back on the top of his head. The muscles in Danny’s powerful neck bulge, somehow withstanding the insane amount of pressure being placed on it. Riley: What is this guy a jelly fish, no land mammal with a spine should be able to bend like that. Not finding this position to be the most comfortable in the world, Williams wails and howls in agony. Sympathetic to Williams’ torturous predicament, the fans gradually begin to chant... “DAN-E!” clap! clap! “DAN-E!” clap! clap! Feeding off the fans screams like some sort of blood thirsty vampire, Williams grows stronger and stronger with every chant. Defying the oppressing laws of gravity, Williams begins to elevate off the mat, slowly making his way back to his full height. This almost magical feat of athleticism causes the jaws of the audience members to drop right into their laps. Comet: What manner of unearthly power gives Williams his strength! Riley: Steroids! There, somebody had to say it. Duran: Unlike me, who’s power is all naturel. Once Danny gets his spine straight again, he leaps up into the air, wrapping his beefy legs around Charlie’s head! To the roar of the crowd, Williams takes the Grappler over with a beautiful head scissors out of nowhere! Rushing the World Champion as he climbs to his feet, Williams lets loose a barrage of elbows that drive the Grappler back into the ropes! Danny shoots Matthews off the ropes with an Irishwhip, but the 300 pound World Champion hangs on for the reversal! Rather than bouncing off the ropes as Matthew’s intended, Williams leaps up on to the second rope with cat like agility! Springing back at the World Champion, Danny twist around in mid air, slamming a forearm into Charlie’s thick skull! CRACK! Rolling to the far side of the ring, Williams jumps up and runs into the ropes! Dazed, Matthews climbs to his feet in a stupor, ignorant to the charging mad man headed his way! CRAAACK! Danny levels Charlie with a big Running Elbow, knocking the World Champion clean out of the ring! Not stopping for a breather, Williams speeds back across the ring in a blur, hitting the ropes yet again! Bulleting across the ring in a invisible blur, Williams threads the needle, and dives head first through the ropes! Transforming himself into a human torpedo, Williams nails Matthews with his patent Elbow Suicida! Comet: Citizen Williams is really pushing the tempo, forcing the World Champion to either keep up or get smoked! Riley: Than you might as well change Matthews name to Mr. Ham, because there’s no way he’s gonna keep up with the best athlete modern drugs can produce. Duran: If I was eating as many performance enhancers as Williams, I could probably bounce around the ring like a ping pong ball too. Hustling back inside the ring, Williams runs up the turnbuckles with a phenomenal combination of speed and balance! Without further delay, Danny dives down at his rising prey, bashing his head in with a stunning Diving Elbow! The non stop barrage of daredevil stunts has the fans in hysterics, they are literally jumping up and down in their chairs. Tightly clutching his head with both hands, Matthews curls up in the fetal position, obviously feeling the effects of Danny’s brain rattling offense. Leaving the World Champion to suffer on the floor, a flushed, sweat soaked Danny Williams rolls into the ring, where he is greeted with a big round of applause! Liking what he’s hearing, Williams makes the raise the roof gesture, encouraging the fans to get even louder. Answering Danny’s challenge, the volume of the fan’s cheers reach unprecedented deafening levels! Riley: Will these moron’s shut up, I can’t even hear myself bitch! Comet: What was once a split crowd is now almost totally behind Danny Williams! The screams of the fans give Williams a significant boost of confidence, making him feel pretty invincible, like he can do anything. Getting a crazy look in his eyes, Williams sprints forward, picking up some speed. To the astonishment of the super hot crowd, Williams cartwheels into a handspring, vaulting himself clean over the top rope! Twisting around in mid air, Danny crash lands into the standing World Champion with yet another big diving forearm! Riley: What the.... Duran: ??? Comet: HOLY SPACE GHOST! Is there anything that Danny Williams can’t do!? For the first time tonight, the fans feel like they got their money’s worth. Pumping their firsts in the unison, the rabid fans enthusiastically chant,”HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!” Slow to recover, a totally spent Danny Williams rests on the floor throughout the entire duration of the chant. Eventually, Williams gets on his feet, and helps the World Champion up. Slinging Matthews back into the ring by his head, Danny takes a second to hack up a honker before sliding back in himself. Dripping with perspiration, Williams crawls atop the World Champion, blanketing him for the pin. “One!” “Two!” Matthews forcefully kicks out, disappointing the red hot crowd. Showing some faint signs of frustration, Danny runs his hands through his sweaty hair while letting out a long sigh. No longer moving with an extra bounce of energy, Williams takes his time in getting to his feet. Coming to the conclusion that it’s now or never, Danny runs his thumb across his throat, signaling to the crowd that it’s all over! Comet: After destroying the World Champion with some of the most incredible high flying I’ve ever seen from a heavyweight, citizen Williams is now gonna take a shot at winning it all! Duran: You just know Charles is gonna have some big excuse for losing this match. Riley: Yeah, he’s gonna be like,”It was a non-title match, I wasn’t prepared. Blah, blah.” Pulling the Grappler up by his hair, Williams stuffs the big guy down into a standing headscissors, setting him up for THE POWERBOMB! Taking several deep breaths, Danny dips his ass to the mat, and pulls......................... “Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”, screams Williams as hoists all 300 pounds of the World Champion off the canvas! However, Matthews frantically shifts his weight back to the mat, stopping the lift. This doesn’t discourage Williams, who is hell bent on hitting his finisher. Straining so hard that his arms are shaking like they are being electrocuted, Williams tugs and yanks on the Grappler’s abdomen, trying his hardest to get him back in the air. Once more, Williams wrenches Matthews off the mat only for him to resist and get his feet back on the mat! Comet: Citizen Williams is experiencing a great deal of difficulty in getting the 300 pound World Champion off the canvas. Duran: Personally, I can Powerbomb the Grappler at will, but Williams is like 50 pounds lighter than him. Suddenly, Matthews grabs Danny by his legs, and lifts him off the mat! Kicking and a fighting, Danny re-plants his feet on the earth’s surface. Like a see saw, Williams and the Grappler take turns lifting each other into the air. Out of the blue, some loyal Charlie Grappler fan begins chanting for his hairy chested hero. Than another comes out of the closet, and another, and another until a decent sized, “CHAR-LEE!” chant gets going. Williams’ fans are still vocal, and you better believe that they start chanting again, however they quickly become a minority, and get drowned out. Comet: What’s this? It would appear that the crowd is now in Charlie Matthews’ corner? Riley: Typical band wagon jumpers. That’s what Williams gets for playing the crowd, sure they loved him when he was diving head first out of the ring, but now that he needs them, they drop him like a bad hammock. Duran: You can’t depend on these leeches for nothing, if you want something done, you have to do it yourself. Exhausted, Williams tries to stall and summon more power, but Matthews won’t give him a chance. With a mighty roar, Charlie hoists Williams off the mat, draping him over his back. Doubling over, the Grappler unceremoniously slams Danny into the mat with a ring shaking Alabama Slam! Blam! Williams gruesomely splatters across the mat, drawing a huge “oh” from the sympathetic fans! Grabbing both of Danny’s extended legs, Matthews hooks his boots under his arm pits, trapping his feet. To a loud pop, Matthews begins spinning in a circle, creating so much speed that it magically lifts Danny off the mat! Comet: IT’S THE BIG SWING OF DOOM! The thousands in attendance, playfully count along with every complete spin.... “One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Six! Seven!.........” Charlie continues to gain more and more speed, endlessly twirling Williams around like a helicopter blade! Scared that he’s gonna hit, Soapdish cowardly retreats to a isolated corner. Duran: What’s the point of this? The only thing Charlie’s gonna do is make himself puke. Riley: Ugh, that’s all we need is another puke-a-rama. Duran: A another? Comet: Don’t ask! Amazed, the fans continue to count along,”Fifteen! Sixteen! Seventeen! Eighteen!......” Getting dizzy, Charlie spins begin to become more and more less graceful. Despite coming close to losing his balance a couple of times, the Grappler keeps on spinning like a vanilla tornado! “Twenty-Eight! Twenty-Nine! Thirty!” Reaching his goal, Charlie releases Williams, but unlike in the cartoons, he just kind of drops to the mat instead of soaring through the air like Superman. Stumbling around like a drunk on a Saturday night, Charlie collapses on his back, tightly closing his eyes in a vain attempt to stop the world from spinning. Impressed with this amazing if not goofy feat, the fans give a standing ovation. Lying face down, Danny tightly locks his hands around the back of his head, which is most likely aching from an abundance of blood that unnaturally flowed to it during the Big Swing. Swallowing a tasty batch of his own vomit, Matthews woozily makes his away over to Williams. Though he can barely stand himself, Matthews awkwardly helps Danny to his feet. Not holding back, the Grappler fires Williams into the buckles with authority! Wham! Holding his back, Williams staggers out of the corner like an old man in need of a walker. Dipping his head, Matthews flips his zombie like opponent high into the air with a huge Back Body Drop! Boom! In rough shape, Williams stumbles to an upright position only get to pushed into the ropes, and sent for the ride! On the rebound, Matthews extends his leg, knocking the spit out of Danny’s mouth with one helluva a Big Boot! Much like the honker he spat into the air, Williams drops to the canvas, but the Grappler won’t let him stay there. Dragging Williams upright, Matthews pushes him down into a front facelock, and twists him around. Once they are standing back to back, Matthews sits down, brutally snapping Williams head across his shoulder! Comet: What a vicious Neckbreaker from the World Champion! Riley: That’s like the first move the Grappler’s done that doesn’t belong in a museum. Duran: They put moves in museum’s now? Comet: Yes, the SWF Museum of Retro Wrestling Moves. Inside you will find strange, ancient wrestling moves like the Garvin Stomp, and the Back Rake. Duran: Really, I’ll have to check that out some time. Yanking Danny up into a stand head scissors, the World Champion hoists him upside! With Williams head poking out between his legs, Matthews sits back, driving his skull into the canvas! Comet: PILEDRIVAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! As if his head was a brand new basketball, Williams bounces straight up into the air, getting some decent hang time before starting his way back down! Duran: Note to self, avoid letting Matthews drive my head into the mat. The quick series of high impact moves as the already hot crowd making some huge noise! Considering that Williams is twitching and shaking like a dying animal, Matthews decides that it would be a good time to go for the cover. “One!” “Two!” .................. “THR-Aaaaaaah!”, yells the hot crowd as Williams just barely kicks! The Grappler disputes the count, insisting that Danny was down for the three. Soapdish begs to differ, maintaining that Williams kicked out in time. Riley: What the hell is he thinking, nobodies been pinned by a Piledriver since the days of Thor. Comet: Which was just last year. Duran: Oh how I hated that guy. Damn gods, think there so big and tough. Pulling Williams up with a front facelock, Matthews twists him around for another one of his Neckbreakers of Death! Making the Grappler pay for using the same move twice, Danny suavely hooks his arms and drops to his knees, pinning the World Champion’s shoulders to the mat with a sneaky Back Slide! Comet: WILLIAMS MAY HAVE HIM HERE! As Soapdish slides to the mat for the count, the fans jump out of their chairs with surprise! “One!” “Two!” ..................... The World Champion fights his way out of Williams’ clutches, and rolls to his feet. But the next thing he knows, Williams comes diving over his head, pulling him to the mat with a Sunset Flip out of thin air! Comet: HERE’S ANOTHER PIN ATTEMPT, Williams is really keeping the pressure on the Champion! “One!” “Two!” .................... “TH-Oooooooooooh!” sighs the fans as the World Champion bell claps Danny’s head with his special order giant size boots! Comet: Citizen Williams was just a millisecond from defeating the World Champion! Duran: Pussy roll ups never work, it’s only when you beat the crap out of someone that you can pin them. Comet: Perhaps that strategy is why you never defeated Matthews! Riley: Now that was low, Comet! How can you treat our guest like that, shame on you! Duran: Shut up, Bobby. Riley: Yes sir. A bit groggy, both men clumsily reach a vertical base at the same time. Frustrated from all the annoying roll ups, Matthews takes a wild swing at Williams’ head, which is predictably ducked! Securing the big man in a rear waistlock, Danny urgently runs him into the ropes, using the reverse momentum to roll the World Champion up! Really smoking now, the fans scream along with the count at the top of their lungs! “ONE!” “TWO!” .................. “THRE-Oooooooooh!” Once more, Charlie escapes the pinfall by the skin of teeth, this time using his powerful legs to push Williams off! Comet: Williams is getting closer! Williams goes flying into the ropes against his will, but he makes the most of it, using the momentum to launch himself back at Matthews! Hustling to his feet, the big guy leap frogs over his speeding attacker, letting him hit the ropes once more! Rocketing back at the World Champion, Danny swings out his arm for the Running Elbow, but to his shock and ah, he ends up being hoisted up on the big guy’s shoulders! Smoothly dropping to his side, Charlie drives Danny into the canvas with a picture perfect Death Valley Driver! Once alive and full of energy, both Williams and the fans are now dead as a dead door nail. Comet: THE JUDGEMENT SLAM! Riley: Damn, talking about a momentum killer. Sore and tired from the blistering pace of the match, Charles rests on his back for a few seconds, his stomach pumping up and down like he’s about to have a heart attack. Leaving a pool sweat where he was laying, Matthews collects himself, and goes for the cover. “ONE!” “TWO!” ............... “THREE!” NO! Williams wearily wiggles his shoulder off the mat! Running in place like exercise gurus, the joyous fans create a rumble that’s bound to be picked up on the Richter Scale. Riley: Now this interesting. Charlie boy’s got him hurt, but does he have what it takes to finish his wounded prey off? Duran: Oh I’m sure he’ll find a way to very slowly defeat Williams. Figuring that he had the match won, Matthew’s face contorts with misery. Slamming his fist into the canvas, Charlie jumps at attention like a solider. Coming to the conclusion of what must be done, Matthews scoops Williams up on his shoulders. Knowing what this means, the over zealous fans raise the roof! Comet: The World Champion is going for THE TIME MACHINE! Stalling, Matthew shoots a look at Duran, who quietly stares back at him. Getting a running start, Matthews jogs across the ring, but when he prepares to flip Williams off his shoulders, the slippery devil slides down his back. Danny pushes the World Champion from behind, sending him chest first into the turnbuckles! Dazed, Matthews wobbles backwards, walking right into a school boy! Folding the World Champion completely half, Williams pushes his entire body weight down on top of him, holding him down for the pin! Still standing, the molten hot fans screech along with Soapdish! “ONE!” “TWO!” ...................... “THREE!” Matthews powerfully kicks out...... but it’s too late! DING! DING! DING! Comet: IT’S OVER! DANNY WILLIAMS HAS DEFEATED THE WORLD CHAMPION! The roof off the Joe Louis Arena blows of the building and flies high into the sky like a fireball from a volcano, or something like that! Jumping to his feet, Williams runs laps around the ring, throwing his arms into the air in celebration! Words can’t describe the chaos that has broken out in the stands! Standing on his knees, Matthews drops his head in disappoint. Riley: Did somebody forget to tell that idiot that this is a non-title match. Comet: It’s the principle of the thing, Bobby. While Williams may not leave with the gold tonight, he has proven beyond a reasonable doubt that he still has what it takes to be the World Champion again. Having nothing to add Comet and Riley’s conversation, Duran sits silence. Overtaking by jealously, Duran throws down his head set, and stomps away. The big guy takes one last look at the ring, and than heads up the ramp. Riley: What’s his problem, I thought he didn’t want Matthews to win. Comet: You have to remember that Duran has never scored a singles pinfall victory over the Grappler, and that Williams victory tonight is a reminder of that painful fact. Riley: Well, he’ll get his chance pretty soon. There’s plenty of Grappler to go around. Collecting his dignity, Matthews marches over to a still celebrating Danny Williams, and holds out his hand. Not thinking twice about it, Williams accepts and the two shake hands while thousands of cameras capture the touching moment of sportsmanship.

SWF Storm is back on the air in three. Two. One. "RRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!" "Welcome back to Ess Dubbleyu Eff STOOOOOOOOOORM!" The voice of everyone's favourite superhero, Cyclone Comet, rises above the noise of the fans as SWF Storm comes back on the air in Detroit Michigan! The Joe Louis Arena is filled with cheering fans from ringside all the way up to the rafters, and they are definitely happy to be here! They wave a plethora of signs, from "I'm InToxxicated!" and the old favourite that is "Danny Williams Is Your God", to "Book of Zenon > Book of Todd" and one particularly intelligent sign that says "Teh Unnamed suk!" And then the cameras, previously pirouetting around the arena, come spiraling down towards the announce table where everyone's favourite pair of announcers are sitting. Comet is already out of his chair and is exploding with glee. "Welcome BACK, citizens and fans! We've had an intriguing night so far, with matches like Citizen Dangerous against the monstrous Citizen Aecas!" "As well as seeing SaturDace Night Fever and IL put on a match that makes me want to vomit!" "I share your sentiments for entirely different reasons about that match, but this next match will show just how interesting things can be in the SWF!" "This match is bull crap, Comet. Pure and plainly biased bull crap. A freaking STRAP match for the ICTV title? Is Zenon on some sort of drug to make this sort of stipulation?" "Commissioner Zenon ruled it, and therefore it must be so" Comet replies sagely. "Citizen Toxxic must defend his title against Citizen Bailey under these rules, however slanted they seem to be." "How the HELL is he going to drag that dead weight around the ring? Bring a goddamn forklift or something?" Riley mutters as the camera pans to the ring. Said camera catches Funyon, nattily attired in a tuxedo as usual, standing next to referee Sexton Hardcastle. At the referee's feet is a long coil of leather, with a handcuff-esque clasp on each end for attaching to people's wrists. Funyon lifts his microphone. "The following contest is a STRAP match, for the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation INTERCONTINENTAL TELEVISION CHAMPIONSHIP! The challenger and the champion will be bound by the wrists to the twelve foot long leather strap at the referee's feet! The only way to win the match is to go around the ring and touch all four turnbuckles in uninterrupted succession! If you are disrupted, then you must start from zero once again!" The low buzzing of an alarm system going off draws attention to the Smarktron, as all the lights begin to dim out. The buzzing is highlighted red and flashing lights, as an ominous word begins to come into focus on the Smarktron, as crimson as the strobes. As the sound of Killswitch Engage's "When Darkness Falls" begins to echo from the speakers, the word resolves itself into something clearly legible. [sTATUS: RELEASED!] "I stand firm in my solidarity The path I walk, (the path I walk) I walk in with my own resolve..." The stage curtain is thrust aside as a familiar figure in a white trenchcoat steps through. Terrence 'Janus' Bailey, with his tag team title belt over his shoulder, thrusts both his arms into the air, and the stage erupts with explosions of black and white pyrotechnics! As the Anti-Heel Machine adjusts his trenchcoat and nods to the fans before strolling ominously down the ramp, face firmly set, Funyon continues his announcement. "From Sydney Australia, he represents the UNHOLY TRIIIINITY! He stands at seven-foot-two and weighs three hundred and sixty pounds! And he is ONE HALF of the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS! He is the Anti-Heel Machine.... TERRRRRRRENCE 'JAAAAAAAANUS' BAAAAAAAAILEEEEEEEEEY!" "When darkness falls (when darkness falls)... We are reborn... A dream since the fall of man... We are reborn... "Citizen Bailey looks intensely focused tonight, Robert. He confronted Commissioner Zenon last show with some measure of displeasure, and he obviously wants to keep himself in check for this match!" "You watch." Riley snorts. "He'll snap and Toxxic will retain by default after he uses a steel chair or something." Terrence calmly hands his tag team title belt to the timekeeper, then shrugs off his trenchcoat and folds it up. After placing it on the timekeeper's desk, the grim looking Anti-Heel Machine rolls under the bottom rope, rising again to his full height and looming over Sexton Hardcastle. As the sound of Killswitch Engage's "When Darkness Falls" fades out, the referee begins to explain the rules of the match for the Anti-Heel Machine. In the background, however, the heavy guitar riff of the Lostprophet's "We Still Kill The Old Way" begins to boil up, and the fans begin to boo. In jagged white letters, the words "Prepare To Be Proved Wrong" appear on the Smarktron. It's followed by a slow motion clip of Mike Van Siclen taking a Toxxic Shock Syndrome off a balcony and through a table, perfectly coinciding with... "GO!" ...and the blast of two red pyrotechnic explosions! As the heavy guitar riffs of the song continue to hammer out, Terrence Bailey turns his eyes to the ramp where the reigning ICTV champion stands. Toxxic grins lopsidedly, dusting off the belt on his shoulder as he strides down the ramp. He becomes increasingly aware of the intent glower of the Anti-Heel Machine, even as Funyon lifts his microphone. "And his opponent! From Nottingham in the United Kingdom, he stands at six-foot even and weighs two hundred and eighteen pounds! He is the reigning Smartmarks Wrestling Federation Intercontinental Television champion..... TOXXXXXXXIIIIIIIICCCCCCC!" "So here we go again, another time but it feels the same Got sick of waiting here Set sail on concrete waves, no survivors left to say Too late for the living dead..." "And look at this!" Riley grumbles. "Toxxic gives up over a foot and over a hundred pounds in weight to that big maniac in there!" "You sounded so much happier when he faced Citizen Aecas, Robert." "He didn't have to drag that British dead-weight around the ring to win the match, all he had to do was out-wrestle him." Riley mutters. Toxxic rests the ICTV title on the timekeeper's table, looking disdainfully at both Terrence's trenchcoat and the tag team title belt, before springing up onto the apron and entering the ring. He keeps a long distance from his opponent, who already has the leather strap attached firmly to his left wrist. Sexton Hardcastle picks up the other end and proceeds over to Toxxic, ordering him to hold out his hand. With a great show of reluctance, the Straight Edger does so... then pulls away and leaps forward, twisting his body to slam a beautiful superkick into Terrence Bailey's jaw! The Anti-Heel Machine reels back against the ropes, and Hardcastle grabs Toxxic by the shoulder with an annoyed look. With a smile on his face, the Straight Edge Sensation allows himself to be attached to the leather strap. Once it's firmly attached, Hardcastle waves to the timekeeper... *DING DING DING!* ...and Toxxic turns around only to get FLATTENED as Terrence just shatters his jaw with a world-wrecking Knuckle Bomb! With a grimace, the Anti-Heel Machine rubs his jaw and walks over to the closest turnbuckle, slapping his hand on it. He heads towards the second turnbuckle, the leather strap winding out, and slaps it as well. As he moves towards the third turnbuckle however, the leather strap suddenly goes slack, and he turns around. He swings his unstrapped arm to catch Toxxic with a rolling lariat, but the champion has a grin on his face as he ducks and slides out of the ring. The momentum of the Straight Edge Sensation snaps the strap taut again, and Terrence finds himself spun around and almost pulled over the top rope by the sharp pull of the leather. "And early in the match, we see how Citizen Bailey's sheer power gives him an advantage, Robert. That one Knuckle Bomb nearly knocked Toxxic straight out of the match!" "Pfft, Toxxic's beaten two-thirds of the Unholy Trinity. This match won't be any different." Toxxic smiles from the floor and leaps up onto the apron, grabbing a handful of black and white hair before dropping down again and stungunning the bigger man over the top rope. As Terrence goes stumbling back, the Straight Edger slides back into the ring and quickly starts running rings around his opponent. With the strap firmly attached to his wrist, Terrence finds his arm jerked behind his back, and the leather strap wrapping around his chest, pinning his arms. Toxxic grins and hunches, the pushes himself back with his legs as hard as he can! The end result has the Anti-Heel Machine turning like a slow spinning top. "Hah! That's showing him, Toxxic!" Riley chortles. "Citizen Toxxic better learn it's not wise to play games with Citizen Bailey." Comet murmurs. "Not wise, but he's showing just how to run rings around him!" The disoriented Anti-Heel Machine tries to gather his wits as Toxxic dashes for the nearest turnbuckle. He slaps his hand across the top and bolts for the second one, but Terrence feels the moving strap and yanks on it as hard as he can. The Straight Edge Sensation finds his arm snapped back, and he cries out in pain as the sudden momentum shift makes his legs fly out from under him. As he falls flat on his back, the Anti-Heel Machine comes looming up and begins stomping a hole in Toxxic's heart! The crowd cheers each stomp, even beginning to count, but Terrence relents and holds his strapped arm up above his head, lifting the Straight Edger's arm as well. And then he kicks said arm square in the elbow joint, prompting an 'oooooh' of pain from the crowd and an agonised cry from Toxxic! A second boot, and a third, elicit similar howls of pain, and Terrence chuckles to himself, clearly enjoying it more than he should. He then reaches over and slaps the turnbuckle, prompting a cheer from the crowd! He strides across the ring, wrapping the leather around his hand, as he heads for the second turnbuckle. Toxxic finds himself ignobly dragged after the Anti-Heel Machine by his sore arm, and the giant again claps his hand down on the second turnbuckle with a grin on his face. Scrambling to his feet, the Straight Edge Sensation thinks hard, and he wraps his end of the strap around his fist. Supporting his sore arm with his unstrapped one, he lifts his arms above his head and pulls back with all his might. "Just what does Citizen Toxxic think he's doing, Robert?" Comet queries. "He can't match muscle power with Citizen Bailey!" "He can if the big galoot isn't expecting it, Comet." "Galoot, Robert?" Comet raises an eyebrow at his companion. "I like cartoon terms." Riley replies innocently. But the ambiguously gay one was correct, as Terrence was not expecting the attempt to stop him! His left arm comes snapping up against his throat, and Toxxic lunges, seeing his opening. Planting one boot in his big opponent's kidneys, the Straight Edger leans back. This has the effect of pinning Terrence Bailey's own arm against his throat, and the Anti-Heel Machine claws at the leather with a gurgling noise. Toxxic grimaces at the pain shooting through his battered arm, but he continues to hold the move until he becomes aware of Sexton Hardcastle admonishing him for a clearly blatant and unfair choke. With an innocent shrug of the shoulders and the boos of the crowd in his ears, Toxxic lets the leather strap unwind from his wrist and reminds Sexton that there are no disqualifications. Terrence Bailey instantly drops to his knees, wheezing and gasping, clutching at his throat and trying to breathe. The Straight Edger retreats across the ring, as far as the leather strap will let him, and watches the wheezing Anti-Heel Machine. As the seven foot Australian begins to rise to his vertical base, he lifts his head... and sees stars as the high-speed Straight Edge Sensation drives a beautiful low dropkick into the back of his skull. But that isn't enough to drop someone like this Australian, and he continues his slow rise with a wheeze, clutching the back of his head. And Toxxic waits, off to the side, before bolting in and hooking Terrence by the neck! Both the Anti-Heel Machine and the Straight Edger spin and crash into the ground at right angles! "STRAIGHT EDGE!" Riley chortles. "He showed that big lunatic what for." "Hard hitting moves won't win this match, Robert." Comet admonishes. "He has to touch all four turnbuckles in succession!" "Easily done, I think he scrambled the big man's brains!" Riley continues to chortle. With the booing crowd letting Toxxic know just what they think of him, the Straight Edge Sensation slaps the nearest turnbuckle with a grin. He then strides over to the second one, which is also within reach. He slaps a hand down and waves to the crowd, before pointing at the third turnbuckle and heading towards it. The Straight Edger feels the leather strap playing out behind him, and as he reaches out to touch the third turnbuckle, it goes taut. Leaning, Toxxic's fingers brush the third turnbuckle, and he whoops before heading for the fourth with a quick dash... ...but the leather snaps taut and his arm snaps out behind him, and he falls to the mat inches from the fourth turnbuckle and a possible victory! With a grimace, Toxxic clutches his sore arm and starts to work his way up to his feet. Then he looks across the ring and his eyes widen. Terrence Bailey is up and on one knee, and has both hands wrapped around the leather strap, and a not-quite-sane grin on his face. Like a fisherman pulling in his catch, the Anti-Heel Machine begins reeling Toxxic in by sheer force. After digging his heels into the canvas and trying to resist - and failing miserably - the Straight Edger decides to take the initiative and charges forward to attack. But Terrence explodes to both feet and lowers his shoulder, catching Toxxic right in the ribs with a high-impact GOOOOOOOOOOOORE! The Straight Edge Sensation crumples to the mat, holding his ribcage, and the Anti-Heel Machine kneels before the fallen champion, taking another great breath of air. "Citizen Bailey's strength and weight prove to be a deciding factor, Robert! Citizen Toxxic couldn't reach that final turnbuckle because of his opponent's mass, and Citizen Bailey has begun dragging him closer!" "At least Toxxic thinks fast, did you see him launch an attack rather than get reeled in?" Riley responds annoyedly. "Did you see Citizen Bailey counter-attack?" Comet ripostes with a smile. Riley just snorts. "Like you said, Comet. Hard hitting moves are not going to win this match." In the ring, Terrence Bailey is already beginning to rise - fresher than his opponent - and he lifts his strapped arm up again. Clutching his ribs, Toxxic tries to keep his arm down, so Terrence just lowers his arm and kicks his legs out, dropping a huge legdrop across the Straight Edger's arms AND his chest! Toxxic wheezes in pain as the Anti-Heel Machine rises to his feet, glancing towards the turnbuckles. The crowd cheers, but he looks down at the Straight Edge Sensation and points at him. The crowd cheers even louder, and Terrence sagely nods his head. He reaches down and grabs Toxxic by the skull, and begins lifting him up to a vertical base. Midway, the champion swings his boot up into Terrence's abdomen, and when the bigger man doubles over slightly Toxxic just kicks him again. This has the desired effect of doubling the Anti-Heel Machine over, and the Straight Edger grabs a handful of white hair and slams the giant's face into his knee! The Australian's head snaps back and he begins to return to a vertical base, but Toxxic cinches in a front facelock and falls back with a smooth evenflow DDT. "Now THAT is a Sobering Thought." Riley smirks. "I think keeping Citizen Bailey's thoughts DRUNK would be a wiser idea in this case, Robert." Toxxic rises to his feet and lifts his arms to the crowd, who respond with a shower of boos. Feeling the leather strap move, he turns around to face a sitting Anti-Heel Machine. And without a flinch, the Straight Edge Sensation kicks his legs out in a seated dropkick smack into the giant's forehead. As Terrence collapses back to the mat, Toxxic straddles him. From this position he begins hammering punches and the occasional european uppercut into the giant's head, trying to wear him down. Terrence's head snaps right and left under the hammering blows, eyes beginning to glaze over. Satisfied with his opponent's stoned look, the Straight Edge Sensation climbs to his feet, rubbing his aching arm. Slowly, he moves over to the nearest turnbuckle and slaps it, glancing over his shoulder. When his opponent simply groans and clutches his head, the Straight Edger smirks and nods. He scurries over to the second turnbuckle and slaps it while Sexton Hardcastle watches. The boos increase as he moves towards the third turnbuckle, but they turn to laughs as the leather begins to go taut. Toxxic pulls on his arm, wincing in pain, and reaches for the third turnbuckle. But when the strap goes slack, the Straight Edge Sensation's neck hair stands up, and he slaps the corner and spins out of the way. With a loud *BONG*, the charging Anti-Heel Machine's shoulder hits the turnbuckle as he misses a second GORE, and Toxxic quickly confers with Sexton Hardcastle. The referee muses over the predicament as Terrence Bailey drops to his knees. And when Hardcastle nods, the Straight Edger grins and makes an over-dramatic, self-assured leap towards the fourth and final turnbuckle. "This is it, Comet. He's gonna win!" Riley exults. "I beg to differ, Robert" Comet smiles. In mid-leap, Toxxic's arm snaps out behind him again, and with a cry of pain falls to the mat as his legs go out from under him. He clutches his arm and looks along the strap upside down - and sees his opponent's arm coming up over the edge of the apron. The crowd whoops at this and the Straight Edger slaps his good hand on the mat in frustration. And from his position on the floor, Terrence Bailey rises to his feet with a smile a mile wide on his face. He taps the cuff holding the strap to his wrist with a nod and a chuckle, staring straight at the champion. "Citizen Bailey prevents his opponent's victory again, Robert. After missing that Gore he rolled to the floor without Citizen Toxxic even noticing!" "Toxxic got... distracted. That's it." Riley mutters. "He got cocky, I believe that is the term you're looking for, Robert." Comet returns coolly. As Sexton Hardcastle signals that the Straight Edger has to start from a single turnbuckle again, the crowd cheers and laughs, and Terrence Bailey rolls under the bottom rope. As he comes up to one knee, he finds a superkick from Toxxic crashing into his face, and he goes reeling back into a sitting position against the nearby turnbuckle. Planting both hands on the ropes to balance himself, the Straight Edge Sensation begins kicking the living daylights out of the Anti-Heel Machine's chest, occasionally sparing a stomp for the giant's forehead. And then he drops to the mat and rolls to the floor, dragging the leather strap with him. This brings Terrence's arm once more against his throat, and Toxxic wraps the leather strap around the turnbuckle a few times before putting his foot on it and bracing his sore arm with his good one. For the second time, Terrence comes to life with a gurgle, clutching at his own arm with his unstrapped hand. The crowd lets Toxxic have it with boos, but the Straight Edger completely ignores them as he chokes the consciousness out of Terrence Bailey. Hardcastle checks on the giant, who refuses to even look like he wants to stop the match, and then rolls to the floor to yell at Toxxic. The champion doesn't stop his tugging until he's sure his opponent has passed out, and he rolls back into the ring to check on him. The Anti-Heel Machine's head is hung and his eyes are closed. Slapping the turnbuckle over the big man's head, Toxxic smiles, before running to the next turnbuckle and slapping it as well. "Citizen Bailey is right in the corner. I don't think the strap reaches far enough for Citizen Toxxic to slap the other two turnbuckles..." Comet muses. "Toxxic is a real man, Comet. He'll reach all four, you watch." Riley snorts. "How many times am I going to end up proving you wrong, Robert? Citizen Toxxic can't MOVE Citizen Bailey!" After slapping one of the turnbuckles that connects to the one Terrence is sprawled in, Toxxic scurries past the unconscious Australian and slaps the other turnbuckle that connects to it. Then he sets his eyes on the turnbuckle directly opposite, the final turnbuckle, the one he needs to touch to win the match. He KNOWS the strap won't reach that far, and he stalks towards victory in earnest, grasping his sore arm with his uninjured one. The crowd begins to boo as Terrence Bailey begins to slump further into the corner, left arm in the air as Toxxic moves forward with all his focus on the turnbuckle. Unlike the fans, who see Terrence's eyes open and the hellish fire in them. The crowd hushes as the Hell Machine carefully works his way to his feet, keeping the strap just slack enough for Toxxic to not notice. The Straight Edger smiles victoriously and reaches out to let his fingers brush the final turnbuckle... or he would have, if Janus hadn't yanked on the strap with all his strength. Toxxic's arm snaps back at an odd angle and he lets out a howl of pain, clutching his shoulder and turning around. As he winces and rubs his arm, he sees just who he's dealing with by the feral grin on the seven foot Australian's face. "I think Citizen Toxxic is in a world of trouble, Robert." Comet confesses quietly. "You THINK? I'd love to see Janus against some annoying hero, but he'll absolutely murder Toxxic!" Riley squeaks. "Will he?" Comet cocks an eyebrow and points at the ring. The pointing is for a reason, as Janus has pulled the Straight Edger forward with a mighty yank on the strap. This brings Toxxic straight into range for a choke, and the big man's hand slaps around his throat. As he tightens his grip and prepares to lift the Straight Edge Sensation up, he seems to hesitate. Carefully, he releases Toxxic's throat and runs a hand over his face and shakes his head, apparently clearing his thoughts. Seeing his opponent's mental indecision, the Straight Edger leaps into action and bolts across the ring, as far as the strap will allow. The Anti-Heel Machine moves before the strap jerks his arm, but this is just what Toxxic had planned, as he comes sliding back along the mat in a soccer tackle at the big monster's shins! But Janus, assuming control once more, is ready for it. He sidesteps as Toxxic goes sliding across the ground, snapping his unstrapped arm down to wrap about the Straight Edge Sensation's throat. Whipping him up to his feet and straight into the air, the Hell Machine just CRATERS Toxxic straight back into the mat with a brutal chokeslam! As his foe writhes on the mat, Janus stamps down on his strapped arm at the wrist, pinning it out from the Straight Edger Sensation's body. As the fans watch, the big man plants his other foot on Toxxic's chest and lifts his right arm... before just DRIVING it straight down, slamming a full force Knuckle Bomb into the elbow joint of the Straight Edger! Toxxic screams in pain and the Hell Machine simply smiles, lifting his foot as his opponent cradles his arm against his chest. "Good GOOD Robert! Citizen Janus may have just completely WRECKED Citizen Toxxic's arm!" "He's a freaking MANIAC, that's what he is!" Riley calls. "He's not even going for the turnbuckles! He just wants to destroy Citizen Toxxic!" Janus reaches down to inflict more pain on his opponent, and hesitates again, pressing his hands to his head. This gives Toxxic the moment he needs to recover, and he kicks Janus as hard as he can in the naughty bits before struggling upright! Cradling his arm, the Straight Edger knows he's got one chance against this monster and hits the ropes, coming back in a picture perfect soccer tackle - and THIS time, it connects! The big man goes stumbling back, still shaking his head as if he's distracted. But whoever he thinks he is, he's in perfect position and Toxxic knows it. He lunges forward to slam a knee into the staggering monster's stomach. and this doubles the big Australian over! The Straight Edger tucks Terrence - or Janus - into a standing headscissors and hooks his arms in preparation. As he pushes off the ground and begins to spin his opponent around, however, his injured left arm slips free! Instantly, the dual-personalited Australian's freed arm slams up into Toxxic's crotch! Pulling his arm free and shifting his grip, the big man rises from his kneeling position and hoists the Straight Edge Sensation above his head into a gorilla press. He pumps his arms once... twice... and promptly TOSSES TOXXIC FACE FIRST INTO THE NEAREST TURNBUCKLE! "My goodness! Citizen... Janus or Bailey, whichever, just broke out of the Toxxic Shock Syndrome attempt with a stunning counterattack, Robert!" "Stunning? He THREW his opponent's FACE into the turnbuckle!" Riley responds. "Whatever works and isn't brutal..."Comet responds. Toxxic jerks to his feet after hitting the turnbuckle, clutching his face as he stumbles about blindly. His opponent clutches his head and seems to concentrate, and finally opens his eyes, looking calm and serene. Terrence steps up behind the stumbling Straight Edger and hooks on an inverted facelock. The crowd watches curiously as he wrenches on the hold, then with a grunt, begins lifting Toxxic into the air with an inverted vertical suplex. Rather than flip him straight over however, Terrence Bailey looks out at the crowd for a long moment. He lifts his free arm from supporting Toxxic, and sticks his thumb down... before releasing the inverted suplex. With almost no support or protection from the Anti-Heel Machine, Toxxic is DROPPED STRAIGHT ON THE TOP OF HIS FUCKING SKULL WITH A DANGEROUS ADF II! "That... is... brutal, Robert." Comet manages to stammer out. "It was like that freaky screwdriver... but it was an ADF II" Riley responds nervously. The crowd goes berserk as the two commentators stare in surprise. The Straight Edge Sensation crumples to the mat with his hands on his neck, as Terrence slaps the turnbuckle before which Toxxic was cratered. He strides towards the second turnbuckle and slaps it, feeling the crowd getting warmed up as he heads for the third turnbuckle. When he slaps his hand down on it, he feels a faint movement on the leather strap and turns his head to see Toxxic desperately clawing at the ropes, trying to pull himself up. But the pain in his neck is too great and he crumples to the mat, as Terrence strolls across, dragging Toxxic the extra foot or two the strap needs for him to slap his hand on the fourth and final turnbuckle! *DING DING DING!* Sexton Hardcastle edges over to the big man, who slowly holds out his arm. The referee quickly unlocks the cuff holding the strap to Terrence's wrist, before moving over to do the same to Toxxic. The Anti-Heel Machine rubs his wrist and rolls out of the ring. He stands on the mat quietly, unable to take his eyes off the Straight Edge Sensation and the arm he cradles, as Funyon lifts his microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen... your WINNER! AND NEEEEEEEEW SMARTMARKS WRESTLING FEDERATION INTERCONTINENTAL TELEVISION CHAMPIIIIIIION! He is the Anti-Heel Machine! TERRRRRRRENCE 'JAAAAAAANUS' BAAAAAIIIILEEEEEEY!" "When darkness falls (when darkness falls)... We are reborn... A dream since the fall of man... We are reborn... "Citizen Bailey fought through this match and something else we may never know about, Robert." Comet says sagely. "At least he didn't kill Toxxic" Riley mutters. At the timekeeper's table, Terrence picks up his trenchcoat and throws it around his shoulders. He puts the tag team belt over one shoulder, and begins to turn away. He's only stopped by Sexton Hardcastle who presents the ICTV belt to him as well, and the Anti-Heel Machine takes it by the strap... and after a long pause thrusts it into the air as the crowd cheers! He drapes it over his other shoulder and exhales deeply, beginning the walk back to the locker room. "Most people are more exuberant about their victories, Robert." Comet notes. "Most people don't have a murderous psychotic personality that nearly killed one of our biggest rising stars." Riley sulks. "I'll give you that one, Robert. Anyway, citizens and fans, don't go away! Once we come back from commercial, we have the main event of a lifetime! Charlie 'Grappler' Matthews and the former 'Deathwish', Danny Williams, going at each other in a non-title bout!" The camera first focuses on Toxxic, cradling his arm in the ring as the referee helps him to his feet. And then it swings towards the stage, where Terrence stands with his tag team title and the ICTV title over his shoulders. The Anti-Heel Machine folds his arms and shakes his head sadly, disappearing behind the curtain with the gold as we fade to commercial.

SWF Storm sweeps back onto the airwaves, with the sounds of AC/DC's "Shoot To Thrill" already ringing through the arena...and the men of which that theme belongs to, Landon Maddix and Todd Royal, already occupy the ring with their manageress Megan Skye. With the crowd yelling obscenities towards the two, Landon tests the spring of the ropes as Todd is busy adjusting his knee and elbowpads. "Welcome back Citizens!" Cyclone Comet's booming voice...booms. "We're ready to go with tag team action. And as you can see, the House Of Todd are eager to get this match underway here tonight." "Well, of course they are!" Bobby Riley adds. "They're always ready Cyclone. They were BORN ready!" "Ladies and gentlemen..." Funyon starts, trying to catch up with proceedings. "The following tag team contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first...currently in the ring, they represent the UNNAMED! Accompanied by Megan Skye...at a total combined weight of four hundred and thirty pounds...TODD ROYAL...LANDON 'LA CUCARACHA' MADDIX.....THE HOUSE...OF...TOOOOOODDDDD!!!" Both Landon and Todd throw their hands triumphantly in the air at the sound of their names, and are promptly greeted with boos and jeers. "Landon and Todd, who have been impressive in tag team action for the most-part of their SWF careers...this should be a great match." "And it should be a victory for the Unnamed. Which is always a good thing." "Now, I wouldn't count out Annie and Tom..." "I would! Face it...they don't like each other. Let alone TRUST each other. You saw them on Smarkdown. Annie even said she doesn't like Flesher!" "Well, hopefully Annie has realized that Tom Flesher is trying to turn over a new leaf...like her sister does." "You really buy that!?!" Riley chuckles. "New leaf. Tom Flesher cares about one person...the same person he's cared about his entire career...himself!" Riley is suddenly cut off, as "Risky Gamble" by Megumi Hayashibara begins to play over the P.A System, bringing the crowd to their feet. As the oh-so recognizable figure of the suited Annie Onita appears on the SmarkTron, hands held out in the position of a gun, the view pans around her until lined up with her fingers... BBBOOOOOOMMMMM!!! Blue pyro erupts around the Hardcore Queen, as she and her ever-present sister Allison make their walk slowly down the ramp. "Introducing their opponents...first, accompanied to the ring by Allison Onita! From Tokyo, Japan...she weighs one hundred and seventy five pounds. The Queen Of Hardcore...this is AAANNNIIIEEE...OOONIIITTTAAAAA!!!" Another wave of cheers sweep over the arena, and as Allison and Annie stop by the apron, Landon is furiously yelling at the crowd to quiet down. Obviously, they don't...especially as "I Am The Man" by The Philosopher Kings hits, which only prompts the crowd into more cheers. A good few seconds pass, before eventually... BBBOOOOOOMMMMM!!! Another pyrotechnic explosion, this time heralding the arrival of Tom Flesher... Ego Buster! SUPERIOR ONE Ego Trip! AWARD-WINNING Boilermaker! MAIN ATTRACTION Logical Disconnect! THE MAN Bursting through the curtain, Flesher pauses for a moment, soaking up the ovation from the crowd, which is about 80% cheers tonight. Which, of course, is an improvement. The other 20% are easily drowned out, as Flesher slowly walks towards the ring with an air of confidence surrounding him. "And her partner...from Buffalo, New York! Weighing two hundred and thirty five pounds..." "HA!" Riley guffaws. "...the former two time SWF World Heavyweight Champion! He is the SUPERIOR ONE...TOOOOOMMM...FLLLEEESSSHHHEEEERRR!!!" Already halfway up the stairs, Flesher stops to acknowledge some more cheers from the crowd, before continuing to the apron. With a quick wipe of the feet, Flesher enters the ring as Annie slides in after him...the presence of these two prompting Todd and Landon to back-track to their corner. Megan quickly slides to the outside, and it looks like we're ready to go, as Nick Soapdish waits for the opportunity... *DING DING DING!* ...to call for the bell. "Here we go Bobbo. It'll be interesting to see how Annie and Tom work as a team..." "Oh, forget that right now Cyclone! They won't. Annie knows she can't trust Flesher as far as she can throw him...which isn't too far considering the pounds Flesher is packing now-a-days!" Landon knows his role, and is already stepping to the apron...as on the opposite side of the ring, Flesher and Annie come to agreement on Tom starting the match. He nimbly steps into the center of the ring, looking ready for a lock-up. Todd however has other ideas, taking a back-step to discuss something with Maddix. "LANDON SUCKS! LANDON SUCKS! LANDON SUCKS!" The crowd are already on the Disciple's case, which disrupts Todd's conversation. That conversation is totally broken up moments later, as Flesher pulls Todd away from the corner, and again positions his feet in a readiful stance. "Two of the more adept technical wrestlers in the game ready to go at it..." Comet points out. *SMACK!* But that's not the case, as Royal nails Flesher with a STINGING right hand to the jaw. As Flesher holds his jaw to try and soothe the sting, Todd smugly points to his jaw, and dares Flesher to fire back. "Let's see if Flesher's man enough to hit the Almighty One..." "You know darn well Flesher doesn't punch for any amount of money. But if Todd's expecting to get away scot-free..." *SMACK!* Flesher suddenly swings forward, and smacks Todd upside the head with a Shotei strike...the force sending Todd careering into his corner. "See!" Comet triumphantly beams. Angrily Royal storms back over to Flesher, who is waiting on Todd with a beautiful arm-drag, taking Todd over with ease. Again Royal has to scramble to his feet, and clearly embarrassed he charges again. With a deft side-step Flesher avoids a running shin strike, turning on his heels before Todd gets chance to gain his bearings. Slowly Todd turns, and gets one of Tom's trusty Doc Martens driven into his gut. Flesher goes to clamp on a front facelock, but Royal senses trouble, and quickly takes Tom down with an ankle-pick. Instantly Tom swings his other leg up and over Todd's head, clamping on a scissors lock around the holy temple...area. Before any real damage can be done though, Todd manages to free himself from Flesher's grip, by kipping up and out of the hold. "Todd has proven he's adept in these situations..." Comet comments. "...but he's up against Tom Flesher, who's one of the best." "And Todd isn't?" Riley snaps. "He's ahead on points so far." "Well, we can all guess how reliable your points system is..." Once Flesher reaches his feet, Todd swings with his right arm... *SLAP* "WHOOO!!!" Hitting a stinging knife-edge chop to Flesher's chest! Tom stops for a moment as the pain sweeps over his body, but once it subsides Flesher swings back at the posturing Todd... *SLAP* "WHOOO!!!" ...landing a chop of his own. *SLAP* "WHOOO!!!" Tom nails a second chop, and Todd's legs buckle from the force...but he thinks quickly, and before Flesher can land another chop Todd backtracks and slaps hands with Landon. "BOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" Cockily Landon steps into the ring, but Flesher is waiting for some more action. Grabbing Landon by the arm, Tom looks to bring Maddix into the center of the ring...but Maddix puts the brakes on, and Irish whips Flesher into the corner. As soon as Flesher hits the corner, Landon follows in but receives a Doc Marten into the jaw. Landon backs up, as Flesher suddenly explodes out of the corner, looking to hit a Yakuza Kick... ...but Landon is able to duck, causing Flesher to sprawl forward. Before he can even turn, Flesher is then caught in a headlock by the running Maddix and after a few more strides is promptly dropped face first to the mat with a running bulldog. Flipping Flesher over, Landon makes a cover... ONE! TWO! ...KICKOUT! Landon pops up to his feet, and looks to pounce on Flesher...but he is waiting, sweeping Maddix through the air with an arm drag, before clamping on an armbar. "Just like that, Tom Flesher takes control of the match...very smartly." "It pains me to say it, but it's a smart move." Riley agrees. "Keep Maddix from using that speed, and you're on to something. To add more pressure, Flesher places his knee onto Maddix's head as he wrenches back onto the arm. Maddix slams his free arm down on the mat in frustration...but promptly gets slapped across the head mockingly by a now smug Flesher. Suddenly Megan Skye jumps on the apron to complain about the slap... ...as suddenly Flesher releases the arm-bar, and Annie enters the ring...picking up where Tom had left off! "HEY!" yells Riley, as the crowd break into applause. "There was no tag made!" "It's always nice to see people tasting their own medicine." "Oh, shut up!" As Annie clamps on the arm-bar, referee Soapdish turns away from Megan...and stops short, confused as to why Annie is now in the ring. Flesher sees Soapdish looking at him oddly, and asks the fans if a tag was made. They then gleefully yell yes, and Soapdish shrugs his shoulders. By now Todd has seen enough, entering the ring which pulls Soapdish away from the action... ...and allowing Annie and Tom to switch again. "YEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!!" "Oh...come...ON!" whines Riley. "This is ridiculous!" "Old habits die hard for Tom Flesher..." "If this was Todd and Landon's doing, you'd be up in arms!" Bobbo snaps. Again, Soapdish turns to see the illegal partner using the arm-bar, but the innocence of Annie and the opinion of the fans give him no reason to think the worst. Instead, he checks to see if Landon is ready to give up from Tom's armbar. Tom cinches back, bringing out a yelp from Landon. In control, Tom suddenly looks up at Soapdish, and with his best look of innocence asks him to 'check the time'. Soapdish frowns, and begrudgingly goes over towards the timekeeper... ...and unsurprisingly, there's another switch which brings Annie in. However, this time Soapdish's attention is taken by Megan, which allows Todd to enter the ring, and smash a kick across Annie's back! The suddenly freed Landon grabs Onita and drags her over to the House of Todd corner, while Soapdish returns to the ring. "Ha! Landon in control, and Flesher can have no arguments seeing as it was his fault Soapdish was detained." "It goes to show, cheaters never prosper...although...I suppose Todd cheated...so...maybe it does..." "Isn't it about time you retired? Again." Quickly Landon drives his boot into Annie's forehead, before tagging in Todd who scoots in. He fires a couple of stomps of his own, as Annie is now looking for an escape. However, she finds herself stuck in the corner, where Todd places his foot on Annie's head...before BOOTSCRAPING~! Annie across the face! She clenches her hands over her eyes, as Royal quickly pulls her up by the hair. As if second nature, Todd hooks Annie into a suplex position and snaps her over for a first suplex. A quick roll through follows, before Royal takes Annie up and over with a vertical suplex. Not done there, Todd finally rolls through again and takes Onita up...holding her high in the air, as Landon is already leading the applause...even before Todd falls back with a hanging vertical. "That's the Trinity! Todd looks good right about now." Comet concedes. "He ALWAYS looks good. He's Todd!" With a swift floatover, Todd lands on top of Annie...for a pinfall, of course... ONE! TWO! ...SHOULDER UP. Unfazed, Todd reaches up and tags Landon back into the match. He quickly begins to climb to the top rope, as Todd pulls Annie back up to her feet. Todd drives his knee into Annie's gut, carrying on around Annie's body and picking her up for a back suplex. That's the invitation for Landon to come off the top rope with a guillotine legdrop, and together the two provide Ann with some double impact with the Fall From Grace. "Nice tag team wrestling..." says Comet. "Annie probably wishes she were back in Japan right now." "Don't we all..." Riley sighs in response. As Flesher can only watch on helplessly at his partner's predicament, Landon quickly makes a cover on Annie... ONE! TWO! ...SHOULDER UP AGAIN. With a quick glare towards Soapdish, Landon quickly pulls himself to his feet as Ann looks to be hurt. She holds her neck and begins to climb to her feet, but from behind Landon is measuring her. Annie seems to take an age to turn around, but eventually she does in her disorientated state, at which point Landon tumbles himself forwards. Unable to move in time, Ann gets smacked violently in the jaw with the flailing Koppu kick from Maddix. Quickly he scrambles to his knees…and upon noticing the near unconscious Onita, holds his hands to the side triumphantly. "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" "The uncrowned Cruiser Champion baby!" beams Riley. "I’m sure Alan Clark would have something to say about that!" "Yeah, probably ‘hey buddy, got any spare change?’" Pulling himself up, Maddix begins to walk over towards the opposition corner…stopping just short, and flashing a mocking grin at Flesher. The Superior One however simply shrugs, and continues to cheer Annie on. Landon begins to walk back over towards Todd, but notices Allison yelling encouragement from the outside and turns towards her. Now, she decides to cast some disparaging remarks Landon’s way…until The Disciple places his head upon his head, and directs a Ric Flair Crotch Thrust™ her way! "Yowza…does she want it? Does she want it? I think she wants it!" "I SERIOUSLY doubt it." Despite his gesturing being met by only disgust, Landon now has a cocky air to his walk. By now Annie has reached her knees, but that’s as far as she’s getting, as Landon walks other and slams a stiff kick to the back of her head, jarring her neck and dropping her to the canvas again. Sensing an opportunity, Landon drops down and makes a cover on Annie… ONE! TWO! KICKOUT, just as Flesher was coming in to help. Flesher pulls up short, but still Soapdish wants a word with him. Faster than you can say ‘You’re Not The Only Ones Who Can Cheat’, Todd Royal enters the ring and joins Landon in putting the boots to Ann. Eventually, as Flesher is moved back to his corner, Landon scurries out of the ring…leaving Todd to continue stomping. Quickly he drops down, and clamps on a reverse chinlock, as Soapdish turns around. Just as he did to Taamo, he gives Todd the benefit of the doubt, allowing him to continue wrenching away with the chinlock. "The House are just wearing down Annie. They’ve cut her off from Flesher, and now Todd is weakening up that neck. It’s a thing of beauty." Riley says smugly. As Annie begins to fight to her feet, Todd releases the grip with one of his arms slightly. Rather than let Annie free though, Todd places that arm on top of Annie’s head, pushing down to twist The Hardcore Queen’s head like a bottlecap! "I-CHI-BAN! I-CHI-BAN! I-CHI-BAN!" Flesher and Allison lead the crowd into the chants, as Annie starts to struggle, feeding off of the positive energy. Suddenly, the energy is rising, as Annie grits her teeth through the pain, and starts to fight to her feet. The crowd’s chanting begins to morph into yells of encouragement, as suddenly Annie starts to fire elbows to the gut of Royal. A third elbow forces a release from Todd, but he quickly regains himself and clamps on a front facelock. Annie isn’t beat yet though, lifting Todd into the air and moving forward a few steps, towards the out-stretched hand of Flesher. "Annie is desperate to make that tag! Whether they like each other or not, Tom and Annie are determined to win this match…" Comet points out. "Ah, how sweet…COME ON TODD!!!" Again Annie lifts Todd up, managing another step before Royal forces his weight down again. Ann is now just a few metres away from Flesher’s hand, as he is trying to get all the stretch out of the tag-rope that he can. A roar of female intensity suddenly echoes through the arena, as Annie lifts Todd up again… …but Landon’s in the ring… …Flesher comes in too, but it’s Flesher that Soapdish sees first!!! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" As he’s busy holding the Superior One back, Maddix continues to sneak into the ring and up behind Onita…before driving an elbow into her lower back. Quickly Todd wheels Annie back towards the House Of Todd corner, as Landon is giving the signal for a DDT. He clamps on a front facelock to, and after a quick look to each other, Todd and Landon drop to the mat, DRILLING Annie with a textbook Double DDT! "Oh…Todd is going to steal another victory right here…" ONE! TWO! THRENO! "Annie may be beat down, Robert, but she’s not beaten." "Just give Royal and Maddix a few more minutes, though and she’ll be counting lights." The crowd roars as a now frustrated Royal grabs Annie by the hair and pulls her off the canvas. Onita flails for a tag, but Todd catches her arm, draping it over his head. Centering himself in the ring, Royal smirks and lifts his opponent in the air, taking a step forward before stopping and falling straight down, drilling Annie’s skull into the canvas with a sickening thud. As Onita bounces off the mat, Royal kips up, taking a moment to bow for the crowd. "BEAUTIFUL brainbuster by Todd Royal!" "Annie’s shown throughout her career that she can take a beating, but the damage to her neck may be too much here." "It’s just a matter of a cover, Comet. 1, 2, 3. Academic." "It would be, Bobbo, but Royal seems more content to celebrate, while his opponent has regained consciousness!" Indeed, Annie Onita is on her hands and knees and working her way towards her corner by the time Landon Maddix alerts Todd out of his masturbatory celebration. Wide-eyed, Royal rushes her and clamps his hands around her foot, restraining her from making the tag. The crowd sighs as one, but Annie continues to fight, using her hands to push herself up to a standing base on her free foot and arching for a tag. Flesher is restrained himself by the nylon tag rope, however, and the partners remain inches apart. Changing strategies and leaping into the air, Onita fires off a desperation kick. "Enziguiri!" *THUD!* "She missed! Onita whiffed on the kick! What reflexes by our Todd and Savior!" Grinning at his evasion, Royal wastes no time in capitalizing, grapevining the leg he is holding and dropping straight to the mat, seamlessly transitioning into an STF. A gasp of pain escapes the normally calm lips of Onita as Todd wrenches back on the hold, verbally taunting Flesher as he tears at the neck. "STF, Comet, the STF from Royal! Annie’s GOT to tap now!" "Tom Flesher is helpless, literally hanging over the ropes to make the tag. It’s all on Onita’s head now. If she can break the hold we’ll keep going, but if Royal holds on I don’t see how Annie can survive." "I-CHI-BAN!" "I-CHI-BAN!" "I-CHI-BAN!" As the crowd roars, Onita reaches with all her strength towards the ropes. Royal cranks on the hold, cheered on by Maddix and Skye, but it quickly becomes apparent that Flesher’s enthusiasm has a deeper motive. Standing on the bottom rope, the Superior One uses his body weight to push the cable in towards the ring, inching it closer to his partner. With Soapdish out of position, Flesher is able to close the gap between the rope and Annie’s hand, allowing Onita to grab the cable. Flesher, and the crowd along with him, immediately alert the official, causing him to pull Todd from his victim. "And she’s free!" "MORE blatant cheating! Annie would have never made it to the ropes on her own!" "You know, Robert, you used to love it when citizen Flesher bent the rules…" "Not when he opposes the will of Todd!" Free and gasping for air, Annie uses the ropes to help pull her towards her corner. As she dives for the tag, however, Royal dives in, booting Flesher’s hand out of the air and dropping a knee on the knuckles of Onita. His face now red with anger, Todd pulls Annie back into the center of the ring. "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" "SO Close!" "And yet SO far away…" Draping Annie across the canvas and dropping an elbow to keep her there, Todd Royal heads through the ropes and into the far corner. His eyes blazing with anger, Royal reaches the top turnbuckle and sneers at the crowd, pointing at his opponent and pulling his thumb across his throat. With a last breath of air, Todd leaps from the ropes, kicking his feet out and over his head. "Todd Complex!! We almost NEVER see this…" *THUD!* "…move." "And that may be why! I think Royal got a little too angry there, and too anxious to end the match. That high risk move ended up backfiring on him!" The crowd explodes as Royal contorts on the mat, inches away from his intended target, who has rolled an arm’s length to the right. With both competitors equally exhausted, the fans sense that this may be Annie’s last best hope to exit the match. On their feet now and clapping, each fan tries to will her into the corner. *clap* *clap* *Clap**Clap**CLAPCLAPCLAPCLAP!!!!!* "Both competitors heading for the tag. If Royal makes it first this match could be over, but if Annie reaches her partner, everything changes!" "C’MON Todd!" *SMACK!* *SMACK!* "And BOTH wrestlers make the tag!" "FLESHER!" "FLESHER!" "FLESHER!" Landon Maddix catapults himself into the ring, but skids to a halt as Tom Flesher steps between the ropes as well. Barreling across the ring, the Superior One plows through Maddix with a clothesline, booting Todd off the apron as he reaches the other side of the ring. Spinning back around to face Landon, Flesher drops to the mat, sending Maddix flying over his head with an armdrag. "Tom Flesher is a house of fire! He’s been ACHING to get back into this match, and he’s going to make the most of the opportunity!" "You just watch. He’ll be aching somewhere else in a minute. You saw how the House of Todd dissected Annie’s neck. Flesher is in for the same treatment!" In an effort to avoid letting Landon regain momentum, Tom Flesher lifts him off the canvas and sends him into the ropes. La Cucaracha rebounds, and Flesher scoops him, spinning him through the air and planting him on the canvas with a massive powerslam. The crowd erupts as Tom signals for Soapdish to count the pin. ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! "Landon escapes! All things are possible through Todd!" "But there’s fire in Tom Flesher’s eyes Bobbo. He’s jazzed to be back, and he’s not about to go down so easily." Flesher indeed seems fired up, immediately rolling off the failed pin and grabbing Maddix by the hair. He shoots only a quick glance toward his corner, where Annie has just barely begun to stir, before doubling Landon over and grabbing him around the waist. Locking his arms together under Maddix’s ribs, Flesher grunts and pulls his opponent off the mat, flipping him over and driving his shoulders into the mat. "What a gut-wrench powerbomb by Tom Flesher! He’s put on a little strength with the added weight and he showed it there by tossing Landon around like a rag doll." Passing up an opportunity for a pin in favor of a painful submission, Flesher shifts his grip to Landon’s left leg and steps over, rolling Maddix onto his stomach and locking on a half-crab. Flashing an sarcastic grin at Royal, the Superior one rocks back stretching Landon’s body across the canvas. "Look at Flesher, mocking Royal. He’s going to incur the wrath of Todd, and he doesn’t want that!" Not taking kindly to the taunts, Todd steps through the ropes, intending to deliver a physical rebuttal. Soapdish frantically cuts him off, backing him into the corner but allowing Megan to take action on the other side of the ring. Reaching through the ropes and grabbing Landon’s hands, Skye yanks Maddix towards her, pulling him under Flesher and sending Tom crashing head-first into the mat. "I…" "Don’t you DARE criticize Megan for cheating after all the stuff Flesher’s pulled in this match!" "…" Hearing the commotion behind him, Soapdish spins around just as Flesher makes it to his feet. With no eyes on him, Royal steps forward, booting the inside of his opponent’s left leg, causing Tom to drop to one knee as Maddix reaches his feet. Charging hard at his prone opponent, a weakened Maddix springs off the knee, driving his own joint into Flesher’s face. "Shining Wizard! Landon Maddix pulls out the old standby!" "But can he follow up?!?" Leaning over the ropes himself and screaming, Royal urges his partner to attack the neck, hoping to get the same results as they had earlier attained with Annie. Breathing heavily however, Maddix seems more interested in simply getting to his feet. As Flesher stirs and pulls his head off the mat, things begin to break down outside the ring. "Megan Skye is up on the apron! Hasn’t she interfered ENOUGH in this match?" "I don’t personally believe so…" "And now Allison Onita up on the ring as well! She’s had enough of this!" "CAT FIGHT!" "CAT FIGHT!" "CAT FIGHT!" Flustered, Soapdish runs to the ropes, trying to pull the valets apart. All attentions turned elsewhere, Todd Royal once again leaps into the ring, drilling Flesher with a shin strike and helping his partner to his feet. Shoving the Superior One into the corner, the House of Todd begins to double-team, laying into Tom with boots and forearms. "The Unnamed are just brutally beating Tom Flesher! I love it!" "It’s broken loose entirely out there! Someone’s got to do something!" Suddenly the crowd explodes as Annie Onita climbs back into the ring. Groggy but mobile, she snarls at her opponents as they continue to beat on her partner. "Annie’s UP! And the Unnamed are about to go DOWN!" Landon Maddix erupts from the corner to cut his opponent off, and as Onita and Maddix trade blows in the center of the ring, Todd Royal lifts up Flesher, dumping him over the top rope and to the concrete below. Annie fires off a clothesline, but Maddix is ready, ducking the blow and wrapping his arms around Onita’s waist. The crowd boos as Maddix stands up, and Royal charges into the picture. "Here it comes!" *SMACK!* "Converting the Sinner!" Royal drives Annie’s head hard into the canvas as the crowd lets loose a stream of jeers. As Maddix slides out of the ring, Soapdish turns around, dropping to the canvas to count. ONE! TWO! THREE! *DING* *DING* *DING* "And the Unnamed STEAL a victory from Tom Flesher and Annie Onita! Annie made a valiant effort to save her partner from a beating, but her neck was just too damaged, and that Converting the Sinner sealed the deal!" As AC/DC’s "Shoot to Thrill" blares over the PA system again, Royal rolls out of the ring, joining Skye and Maddix as they back rapidly up the ramp. The crowd’s boos flow in a steady stream, interrupted only by the booming voice of Funyon. "Ladies and Gentlemen…here are your winners as a result of a pinfall….Todd Royal, Landon Maddix…The HOUSE OF TODD!" "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" "HA! Maybe that will show Tom Flesher that the only way to win is to all-out cheat. No half-cocked cheating like we’ve seen in recent weeks. We need the old Tom Flesher back, and this could do it! But for now, lets ALL bask in the Glory of Todd…"

We return to SWF Storm with an unbelievably bad camera shot of a pale blue carpet. The crowd is rightfully confused, but a familiar voice says "Get a good shot of me, man," and suddenly the camera whips up to get a shot of Michael Van Siclen, standing in front of a sink and running a black comb through his blonde mane. Van Siclen grins at the camera, putting the comb down on the sink and stepping towards the camera. Van Siclen looks at the camera, presumably looking past it at the man holding it. "Scott, you got me in view?" A voice from behind the camera responds. "Yeah, Mike, you're in the frame." Mike grins. "Excellent. What's going on, Mrs. Thompson? This is Mike Van Siclen, and I'm here with Scott in Detroit. I'm sorry Scott couldn't make it home for Easter, but him and I have been busy lately." From behind the camera comes a snort. "Yeah, busy challenging ex-Tag champs to title matches, right Mike?" Scott laughs from behind the camera, but Mike is obviously not amused, and stares pointedly at the camera. "You're not funny, Scott, and it's not my fault that Johnny and Wildchild had to go out and job like bitches an hour after we chalenged them, is it?" "Absolutely not, Mike," Scott replies snidely. "Of course, you could've used forethought and waited until after the match..." "I'll kick your ass, Scott." "You couldn't." "Whatever..." Mike, flustered, has lost his train of thought. "Who's up next, anyway, Scott?" "Well, Tom..." "Beat him." "... and Annie..." "Beat her." "... are facing the House of Todd..." "Above them." "... in a tag team match." "Tag team match, you say? Two completely inferior teams getting booked, while we get shafted to dark match duty? Man, I can't be the only one who gets sick of beating on Kris and Kross in dark matches." "It does get a tad old, Mike. I'd say the office has a vendetta against you." "I would too. Jealousy, probably, considering Zenon could never beat Flesher, and yet I did it. And, oops, I don't mean to step on anybody's toes, but if you and I were in the House of Todd's place, I'd do it again." "Yeah, well, Mike, I suppose next week's our opportunity to prove who the best tag team around is." "You're damn right it is, Scott. Mike Van Siclen... Scott Thompson... the In Crowd. House of Todd, Annie, Tom, Janus, Aecas, Toxxic, Liston, consider this your warning. You're done." Mike grins at the camera. "And Mrs. Thompson? Happy easter." FADE OUT

The truth that Alexander Zenon knew days ago comes to fruition now. Outside of the Joe Louis arena, the night air is cool, the streets are calm and lifeless, and the entire vision seems serene…peaceful. This image almost stands to counter against the rage, excitement, and utter spectacle of noise and emotion that is inside of the arena at that very moment. Standing in an office, with a window to the outside and to the inside, one would see the sharp and sudden change that engulfs the senses through only a simple half-turn. Their eyes would stay focused on the mass of SWF fans as they stand, a sea of emotions ebbing and flowing with every passing second.. Backstage, wrestlers have gathered in front of monitors, just as much fans as everyone else in the arena on this night. While moments ago they all were busy talking about strategy, the future, and what might be in Toxxic’s water. But jokes aside, everyone from the floor to the rafters, from the bathrooms to the box seats, from the parking garage to the ringside crew; they are all feeling the same kind of anticipation as Kibagami stands in the center of the ring. His eyes stay fixed on Alan Clark, who stands frozen on the outside of the ring. Their eyes pierce the air between them as Sexton Hardcastle motions for Alan to climb in the ring, but Alan has none of it. His eyes stay stuck on those of the behemoth before him. Kibagami can only shrug a bit as if to tell Clark that he can and will wait all day to completely demolish him. The echo of the ring bell causes only minor movement from the cruiserweight champion, who simply breathes deeply before settling back down, still not taking a step toward the ring. The announcers ramble back and forth about the sudden stage fright of Alan Clark, their voices well within earshot of the superstar. “This is just uncalled for, Comet. This isn’t a staring contest it’s a wrestling match!” Alan flinches. “Look, I understand what you are saying, Robert. But Alan Clark knows exactly what he is doing I’m sure.” “I think he’s just a chicken.” Alan moves. Bobby’s comment sends a wave of energy through Clark’s spine as he takes his first step in almost three minutes, slowly walking to the apron and pulling himself up to stand and get on the same level as the massive beast across from him. Eight feet separates the two men, eight feet of cold air. Sexton also stands in between them, motioning for one of the two to make a move toward the other. Finally, the first blow is struck as Alan Clark hops up to the top rope and springs off, lunging forward at Kibagami. This aerial display suddenly degenerates into a battle of style versus form as the picturesque style of Alan Clark's leap into the air meets head on with the smooth form of the bottom of Kibagami's right foot. Alas, form easily triumphs, sending style crashing down like a heap of bricks in the shape of a disfigured mannequin. The crowd gasps as Silent slowly moves his foot back down to a resting position, next to the body of the fallen Clark, who does not stay down for long. Alan lays flat on his back, his eyes still stuck on Nathaniel as he pushes himself up to a seated position and begins to stand. Kibagami makes no move to interfere. The audience has gone from ruckus to complete silence in a matter of moments, as possibly the sheer power of the kick took away the collective voice of the fans around the arena. Alan is silent as well as he gets back up to his feet and tries to stand eye to eye with the returning veteran, but a half foot difference in height shows clearly as Alan tilts his head up, showing that he has no true fear in his heart anymore. Cameramen at ringside are near fighting with each other over who will get the best photo of the moment as a small smirk forms on Clark’s face. Kibagami only blinks in return, but the sly smile of the cruiserweight champion speaks volumes. The two men seem to be trying to psyche each other out, as the veteran knows all too well that his opponent holds a victory over his head. “This is one of those moments that could play out in a movie. The drama is astounding, it’s so powerful it’s just giving me goosebumps.” Comet is the first voice to react to the scene, as Clark finally takes a step away, mouthing a simple phrase. “Let’s Go.” Alan Clark has never been one to back down from any sort of challenge, but this almost seems to be an unreached realm for the current cruiserweight champ. No titles on the line, no grudge matches, no weapons, and no amount of words can describe it. The images can only speak for themselves as Clark tries for a simple tie-up, only to be forced backwards by a large uplifting knee. Kibagami is quick to move in, his body almost mechanical in nature as it lumbers forward, his knee firing up into the chest of Alan, putting him into the ropes. With a step back, Kibagami pulls Alan away from the ropes and sends him running across the ring, hitting and bouncing off the ropes on the other side. Coming back across the ring, Alan is sent into the air, arcing over the body of Kibagami and crashing down into the mat with an armdrag. Alan is back up on his feet in an instant, and he seems a bit shocked, but tries once more, only for the equation and outcome to be the same: Alan’s back + ring mat = ouch. Alan tries once more, and the third time looks to be a charm, as Alan flips forward over Kibagami’s body, landing on his feet and spinning quickly, kicking hard as he turns and catching Nathaniel in the spine. The big man rolls forward and onto his feet, and Alan tries to keep on the offense…. “What a beautiful counter from Alan Clark! And here we go again!” There is a little bit of anticipation in Comet’s voice as the two men aim to collide once more. Alan ducks down, however, his body moving swiftly and passing right underneath the out-stretched arm of the veteran. Alan stops cold behind Kibagami’s back, and as the big man turns around, he is met with a hard chop right into his chest. Alan is soon in shock, as Kibagami seems unfazed by the shot, only a smile appearing on his face as he sends his right hand straight into side of Alan’s head, the force putting him against the ropes once more. “What a shot that was! Alan should have known not to try attacking with strikes!” At the booth, Riley is loving every second of the match so far, and wonders just how much pain Alan Clark is going to be put through over the next few minutes. The crowd watches on as Kibagami drags Alan from the ropes and drives his face into the mat with a DDT, the sound of skull meeting canvas echoing ever so slightly as Kibagami rolls the smaller superstar over for a cover. ONE! TWO! Alan gets his shoulders up quickly after the two-count and gets up to his feet almost before Kibagami can, their eyes locking once more. Alan makes a run at retaliation, using his quickness to slip behind Nathaniel and fire off a stiff kick, catching the big man in the small of the back. This only serves to anger the veteran, as he turns around with sheer brute force, his fist cracking hard into Alan’s head, sending his body flailing back into the corner where it strikes the turnbuckle. “Citizen Clark’s brains might have just been scrambled there! As much as I hate to say it, this match could be quick work for Silent, as he has not lost any form that I can see!” Comet tries to remain unbiased, but inside his Cyclo-senses are pulling for an underdog victory, just as he always is. “Of course not, Comet! That man is one of wrestling’s greatest specimens! He could be ninety years old and could still hand you your BUTT on a silver platter!” Riley is, of course, more open about where his allegiances lie, a smile on his face as Alan Clark is sent feet over face across the ring, a few flashbulbs popping off as the cruiserweight completes the forward flip and crashes to the canvas. “Alan Clark was just sent on a first class flight to back pain, right there!” Riley drops an exclamation on the powerful judo-like toss of Kibagami, who stands tall and looks down at the recovering Clark, seemingly looking over his choices of what to do next. “It seems Silent is unsure of how to proceed next, other than knowing that he wants Alan Clark to hurt and hurt bad…” Kibagami’s eyes show a clear sign of thought, which Comet is quick to point out as the big man moves slowly across the ring. Grabbing Alan by the hair, he pulls him up to his feet, leaving referee Hardcastle to warn the veteran to watch how he is treating his opponent. Kibagami only waves off the warning, almost pushing Hardcastle aside before lifting Clark off of his feet and draping him across his shoulders. Alan tries to fight out from the fireman’s carry, but his body is driven down into the mat before he can escape, with Kibagami staying on the mat and simply rolling backwards to make another cover… ONE! TWO! Alan’s arm and shoulder fire off the canvas once more and he rolls out from under Nathaniel, with both men getting to their feet at nearly the exact same moment. A feeling of electricity almost can be seeing firing between the two men as they move in to clash once more, but the quickness of Alan comes into play once more, as he leaps up onto the big man and falls backwards, pulling Kibagami down toward the mat with him. Alan pushes his knees into Nathaniel’s chest as his back hits the canvas, and the result of the sudden stop is shown through the movements of Kibagami, as his body tenses up against the impact and he rolls onto his back. “What the hell was that?” Riley seems completely confused, demanding a replay from the production crew. After seeing it for a second time he is still unsure of what exactly happened, but knows from Kibagami’s reaction that it had to hurt. Alan is back up quickly and decides that a small acrobatic display would be lovely, hitting the ropes and gaining some speed before shooting into the air and rotating his body backwards before coming down hard into Kibagami’s chest, aiming for his first pin attempt of the match up. ONE! TWO! Kibagami kicks out with ease and the two men are soon back to their feet once more. Alan takes the moment rub his neck in slight pain as his body starts to show the effects of the fight. Suddenly, without warning, Alan goes into action, aiming for another quick lock-up. Lightning quickly strikes twice, as Kibagami slams his knee into Clark’s chest, virtual sledgehammer shots into the abdomen before Clark doubles over and falls onto his knees. “Citizen Clark is definitely going to need to re-think his strategy against Kibagami and he better do it quick!” the words from Comet seem to ring true, as Kibagami is momentarily stunned from by a jawbreaker. The move seems almost in desperation, as the compression of Alan’s neck keeps him down on the mat, unable to capitalize on the counter. “Alan is down and he might have just sealed his fate!” Riley watches his monitor and the fans all around the arena seem frozen in time as Kibagami gets back to his feet, his eyes looking eeriely demonic. Before Alan can escape from the path of Silent, he finds his head trapped between the big man’s legs. With nothing more than a deep breath as a sign, Kibagami lifts Alan off the ground and over his head, spreading the arms of his victim and holding him aloft, ready and willing to drive him into eternity. “Here it comes! Fall From Grace!” Comet’s yell seems to slow and stretch out, and time nearly stops as Kibagami’s body falls forward, pulling Alan down toward his cruel fate. Alan, on the other hand, seems to think differently, as his lower body pulls itself from Kibagami’s back and pushes off and forward, his body flipping backwards and landing gingerly on it’s feet, his head a mere foot from being implanted into the canvas. In real-time, the crowd has gotten to their feet, poised to cheer in a wildfire of energy, but inside Alan’s head, he is still not home free. With a quick twist of his arms and waist, Alan folds his arms in on themselves and rolls onto his back, trapping Kibagami’s own arms and sending both men slamming into the mat in a variated saving grace of a neckbreaker. Clark does not seem done, and with his arms still stuck he rolls himself backwards, flipping himself so his arms leave their entrapment and putting Alan right on top of Kibagami’s chest for a cover, taking Alan back into the reality of the situation. ONE! TWO! The stunned Kibagami manages to kickout just before the three, and the crowd’s cheers seem overwhelming. Even backstage, a few of the wrestlers are applauding how someone can contort their body in such an odd way. Alan crawls through the cheers and gets back to his feet in the nearest corner, but as he turns back to face his opponent he is met by a very pissed off Nathaniel Kibagami, who looks ready to rip body parts from their sockets and use them as sporting equipment. His anger seems to burn a little too brightly, as burn marks later turn up in pictures from this moment of the match, but in the present time, Alan Clark is trying his damnedest to survive the onslaught on Kibagami. Alan is backed into the corner and becomes the focal recipient of two devastating kicks to his ribs, causing his body to rock and stumble forward and right into the arms of the veteran, who sends another stiff kick into Clark’s gut before wrenching his body over and suplexing him straight into the canvas and into another quick pin attempt. ONE! TWO! TH-NO! “KICKOUT!” Riley yells in a brief explosion of unbridled enthusiasm as Alan gets his shoulder up at the last possible second. As he gets to his feet, Kibagami’s emotions seem cooled on the exterior, though his insides still burn like the heat of the Earth, with the Joe Louis Arena in the center of the eruption. After pulling Alan up to his feet, Kibagami whips Alan, and as the cruiserweight comes back across the ring, his head is nearly taken off by a large lariat. At the last possible second, Alan ducks out of the way and hits the ropes once more. The motion is repeated once more, with Alan barely getting his head underneath Kibagami’s arm, but as Nathaniel turns around to face Clark, his face is met with a hard kick, sending his body backwards and over the top rope to the floor! “Alan Clark just fired off a superkick out of nowhere!” Comet’s lets loose his own big burst of energy as Kibagami lands on his feet on the outside, but before he can move, Alan is up and over the top, crashing down on top of the veteran and sending both men falling to the ground. Inside the ring, Sexton begins his count, and the arena follows suit, echoing each number as it is called out. …1… Alan Clark is back to his feet quickly, and begins kicking Kibagami down, doing anything he can to keep the big man subdued. Kibagami is still able to get back to his feet, and as Alan tries to ‘help’ Nathaniel up, he is caught with another stiff knee to the gut. …2… Kibagami clutches Alan by the neck and wrist and tries for an irish whip, but Alan turns it around, sending Kibagami straight into the ring-steps knees first, his body flipping over the top of the steps and crashing to the padding on the other side. The crowd chants as Kibagami sits up, holding his knee in a bit of pain. …3… “Ref! No fair! Alan Clark is using weapons! He always has to use weapons! He can’t win without cheating!” Riley’s complaints come off like a semi-automatic rifle of disagreements, but Comet plays the anti-Riley as he usually does, rubbing it back in his face. “Robert, Silent was aiming to use those steps and it backfired. He deserves that!” Comet shows small signs of approval of Clark’s actions as Alan comes up over the steps and leaps down, pushing his feet into Kibagami’s knees once more, keeping the big man at bay just a little while longer as Comet continues… …4… “This crowd was ecstatic for the return of Kibagami, but their love for the cruiserweight champion seems to go past there enjoyment of the return, and while the crowd has been watching this match, their reactions have been clearly on the side of Alan Clark. Though I will be truthful and say that chants of ‘Silent’ are still cropping up now and again from this Detroit crowd.” Comet continues on his rant as Alan continues his assualt on the knees of Kibagami, dragging them across the ringsteps and slamming them down repeatedly, looking to completely neutralize any chance of being put in position for the crucifix powerbomb. …5… At the sound of five, Alan looks to almost be finished his attack, but takes the chance to slam the knee down one last time across the steel before rolling back into the ring. The count continues as Alan watches from behind Sexton, secretly hoping for a countout victory. …6… On the outside, Kibagami is back up to his knees, but it is plainly obvious that the weight is being distributed unequally so as to not put more pressure down onto the right knee. The crowd watches on, most hoping that the match will not end on something as silly as a countout. …7… “Citizen Kibagami is going to need to hurry!” “He would be fine if Alan Clark wouldn’t have viciously attacked him with those steel steps!” “You are so unbiased, Robert.” “Look who’s talking, superman…” Riley lets loose a quip, and Comet reacts by sending his hand into the side of Bobby’s face, causing him to recoil in pain. “Don’t compare me to him, Robert. If you do it again, you will get worse.” Riley looks into Comet’s eyes and backs down, seeing a bit of fire in his partner that he just does not want to let loose. “He still attacked him.” Bobby gets in the last word of the conversation as Kibagami gets to his feet and rolls under the bottom rope, finally breaking the count of the referee. Nathaniel’s love of standing vertically is destroyed before he can even take it on it’s first date, as Alan dives in, nailing a quick dropkick that sends a tidal wave of pain coursing up and down Kibagami’s body, leaving the big man to stumble forward and almost trip. That moment comes seconds later as Alan connects with another dropkick, this time to the back of the knee, causing Kibagami to down onto his knees, holding the right one as the pain continues to increase. With Nathaniel almost down, Alan looks to finish the job as he leaps forward, catching the big man by the head and driving it down into the canvas with a bulldog. The crowd pops as Kibagami’s face strikes the mat. Alan shows his first true sign of happiness in the match as a smile appears on his face and he hops over the downed veteran, bouncing up and off the ropes, flipping backwards through the air and bringing all of his weight down across the back of Kibagami’s knees. “Asai Moonsault from Alan Clark puts even more pressure onto Kibagami’s knees! I’ll be surprised if he can stand by the time this match is over!” “How can he keep doing this! Silent is a legend!” “Alan Clark seems to pride himself on being able to pin the legends. He has wins over Crow, Wildchild, and even HVT under his belt, and he might just be looking to add another win to that list tonight!” Comet is a spewing fountain of information as Clark rolls Kibagami over and tries for a pin… ONE! TWO! THR-NO!!! “Come on Silent!” Riley cheers the veteran on as Alan begins to show a bit of frustration at the kick out, his old habits flooding back into his mind from his first stint into the SWF. Alan begins to show it verbally as he pulls Kibagami back up to his feet. “You are nothing!” Alan screams down at Nathaniel, causing the two to lock eyes once more, the scowl across Kibagami’s face seems almost permanent and unwavering. Alan sends a hard slap into Kibagami’s face, and that definitely looks like a big, big mistake. “I am your worst nightmare!” Kibagami yells back as he shoves Alan back, using his superior strength to open up a nice gap between him and Clark. As he gets back to his feet he definitely shows signs of his pain as he limps across the ring. The two men engage in a lock-up once more, and again Alan takes Kibagami’s knee to his chest. The force of the shot pushes Clark back, but Nathaniel also feels the pain, as he clutches his knee for a moment before continuing to move in, lunging forth and connecting with a stiff lariat. The force of the blow sends Alan over the top and crashing to the floor, landing on his feet and falling to his back. “Alan Clark should have kept the badmouthing to himself! Look where it’s got him now!” Riley yells out, pointing down toward the recovering Clark, who once again is able to hear the decibelly-abundant announcer to his left, and as Alan gets to his feet he gives Riley a quick look before rolling back into the ring and back into the raging battle. “Bobby, you need to watch yourself when they are in hearing distance. Alan Clark isn’t always the most forgiving person. Do you remember From The Fire?” “Yes I do, as much as I try to forget it, you always bring it up every time Alan is out here! Ooo…he beat HVT…the man came out of a wheelchair for crying out loud! You need to get with reality and stop living in your fantasy world, Comet. This is real and the beating that Alan Clark is getting is completely real!” Riley explodes in a rant on Comet’s announcing practices, but the superhero quickly cuts him off. “Robert, I will agree that Alan Clark has taken some punishment, and he is right now…” Comet remarks as, in the ring, Alan is lifted off the ground and slammed over with a suplex. The aftermath showing Kibagami favoring his leg, putting all of Clark’s weight onto his left leg to complete the move, “ but you can’t look in that ring and say that this match has been all Silent so far!” Alan holds his neck as he gets back to his feet, causing the announcers to begin to speculate the problem. “Silent had to watch himself as he did that suplex, and it looks like Alan Clark might have landed wrong on his neck. That could be trouble as this match continues!” Comet tries once again to be fair as the two men go into a lock-up, but this time Alan is pulled down into a facelock with his arm twisted up and behind his back before Silent drops down, driving Clark face-first into the canvas with a huge DDT. “Yes! Silent saw that Alan’s neck was hurting and he does what every veteran wrestler does, he singles out the neck and attacks!” Riley seems confident in Kibagami’s abilities as he drags Alan up and looks for another DDT, this time slamming him down between his legs and immediately locking in a bodyscissors, trapping Alan Clark in a place where he definitely does not want to be. “Dragon DDT! Silent drives Alan Clark into the mat and locks in the Dragon Sleeper almost immediately! This could be it for Alan Clark...as much as he tried to win this match, this could be too much for him!” Comet exclaims as the crowd begins to cheer Clark on once more, trying to do anything they can as observers to get Kibagami to break the hold. Even backstage, the wrestlers are mumbling to themselves and silently chanting to see if Alan can escape or be forced to tap out. Sexton is the first to realize that Alan is closer to the ropes than Nathaniel would have liked, and Alan seems to know the fact as well as he reaches out with his arm, trying to grab the ropes. At the same time, Alan twists and pulls at his right leg, trying anything to get a limb free to be able to get a rope break. With one last burst of energy, Alan arches his back and stretches his arm out toward the ropes, the two bodies begin to roll onto their sides and keeping with the roll. The move puts Alan on his stomach and Kibagami above him, still trying to keep the hold locked in. They roll one more time, Alan’s arm hitting the rope and causing the crowd to explode in cheers as Sexton pulls apart the two, trying to get the hold broken as fast as he can. Alan crawls away from the veteran, one hand holding his neck and the other keeping his body balanced as he tries to get to his feet, but Kibagami is up quickly as well. The big man wastes no time in pounding Alan down, putting him in prime position for the Fall From Grace once more. “Here we go again! Alan’s neck must be like liquid right now! There is no way he is going to be able to survive this!” Riley almost laughs out loud as Kibagami signals for the end, lifting Alan up and flipping him over his back and putting him back in position for the crucifix powerbomb. At this moment, something happens that nobody in the arena expects. As Alan is pulled forward to be dropped down, Kibagami’s right knee completely gives out. The resulting domino effect is easily compared to a building crashing down. With the support destroyed, there is only once place left to go. Alan slips away from the hold as Kibagami falls forward, clutching at his knee by instinct and causing his face to be driven straight into the canvas. Alan looks down to see himself in a nearly perfect position as Kibagami rolls to his back. Alan pulls the veteran’s left leg up and wraps it around his own left leg. Kibagami tries to fight away, but before he can, Alan reaches down and grabs hold of the injured right leg. The crowd seems to sense what they are about to witness as a silence falls over the arena and Alan rolls his body, locking in the figure four in the center of the ring. Both announcers explode. “NOOO!!!” “WRATH OF CLARK!! WRATH OF CLARK!!” Comet replies as Riley continues his negativity in the seat next to him, both of them watching on as Kibagami attempts to crawl to the ropes, but the pain shooting through his torqued knee is simply too much. Alan makes sure to keep the pressure on, arching his body and pulling on the right leg as hard as he can, nearly tearing Kibagami’s boot off as he tries to keep the hold locked in. In a moment where quite possibly ten thousand cameras flashed off a picture, Kibagami’s arm raises into the air and comes down, the pain simply too much for the veteran to handle. *DING DING DING* “BY ZEUS! HE TAPPED OUT!” Comet exclaims above the roaring Detroit crowd as Kibagami’s hand continuously slaps the canvas and Alan breaks away from the hold, rolling to the outside of the ring and going for his belt before Sexton knows what is going on. Kibagami stays in the middle of the ring, clutching his knee as Alan grabs his belt and holds it high in the air, along with his free hand that Sexton holds high for the world to see. “Ladies and Gentlemen…here is YOUR WINNER by submission…ALAN CLARK!” Funyon’s booming voice bellows out and the crowd continues to cheer as “Wanted Dead or Alive” pumps out from the rafters. Outside the arena, the night air is still cool and the picture is serene, but now the serenity has made it’s way indoors and into Alan Clark’s eyes. As he walks up the ramp and looks down on the fans, a smile adorns his face and his championship shines brightly around his waist. Backstage and off-screen, Alan is met by Coy West, who shakes his hand and congratulates him on the win. Alan Clark survived his surprise, and as Storm cuts to commercial, Riley and Comet continue to speak about the implications of what they have just witnessed in the ring.

The screen fades to black and white, and a low rumbling echoes over the soundsystem, vaguely suggestive of a storm somewhere in the distance. “Welcome back to SWF Storm, citizens! To my right is Bobby Riley, and I... I am CYCLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE COMET!” “Damn it, Comet! That’s the third one today! It’s bad enough sitting next to you, but with the headset on, it’s damn near deafening every time –“ “CY-CLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE COMET!” The caped crusader grips impishly at Riley, who is muttering into his sleeve about an “ignorant, bellowing mmph murph...” The Smarkstron flickers – a desolate highway appears, battered by wind and rain, as the first few notes of “Wanted Dead or Alive” hit the Detroit fans. It's all the same, only the names will change Everyday it seems we're wasting away Another place where the faces are so cold I'd drive all night just to get back home... The sounds of the storm begin to fade, and Alan Clark steps out from behind the curtain, clad entirely in white with a guitar slung over his back. A slight smile is visible on the Cruiserweight champion’s face as he makes his way down the ramp, a montage of his career highlights flashing behind him on the Smarkstron. “Ladies and gentlemen, the following matchup is non-title, and it is scheduled for one fall...making his way to the ring, weighing in at two hundred twenty-five pounds and hailing from Long Beach, California...he is the Cruiserweight champion...ALAN CLARK!” Clark hands off his guitar to a nearby ring attendant before rolling into the ring. The lights in the Joe Louis Arena return to their normal color as Clark rises to his feet and begins stretching himself out in preparation for the match. “Citizen Clark’s opponent has not been announced on the card, and the citizens of the SWF have been pondering the mystery man’s identity for some time now. Most believe that Tryst, a superstar of note from the SJL, will be Clark’s opponent, but no one knows for sure as of yet.” ”You know what would be beautiful, Comet?” ”Do not say ‘Chris Wilson’ again.” ”Chris Wilson.” Riley wipes at his eyes. “Can you imagine it? The lights dim, the music plays, the Smarkstron mysteriously explodes...imagine it, Comet. Just imagine...” Without warning, the whole of the arena is plunged into darkness. The fans are thrown into a frenzy – many of them begin chanting for Tryst, convinced this will be his debut. Bobby Riley is yelling incoherently about Wilson’s imminent return. Comet is quietly hoping for the return of Galatea, as he always does. Others are hoping for favorites from the federation’s past – Grand Slam’s tag match has raised the hopes of the more nostalgic fans. There’s even a small “MAC-PHIST-O!” chant coming from a few of the ringside fans; they’re just loud enough that the camera crew is picking them up. They couldn’t be more wrong. The Smarkstron flickers. Words appear. They waver briefly. They solidify. Of old the skilled first made themselves invincible to await the enemy’s vincibility. Invincibility lies in oneself. Vincibility lies in the enemy. Thus the skilled can make themselves invincible. They cannot cause the enemy’s vincibility. Thus it is said, “Victory can be known. It cannot be made.” -the Sun-Tzu, Chapter Four.” The fans are confused. They’re not sure what this means. There’s still no music, no pyrotechnics, no show. No display. Nobody has a clue what’s happening. Riley is finally quiet. Comet is, too. And in the back, Alex Zenon’s attention is fixed fully on the monitor. It hasn’t been this quiet at an SWF event for months. Then, the clean, melodic notes. The guitar rings out over the arena. The fans perk up. They know this song. They’ve heard this one a hundred times. They know this song. This is Nevermore. The River Dragon Has Come. The Smarkstron flickers again. The crowd sees Va’aiga drop Silent in slow motion with a Southern Lights Bomb. They see Silent land on his skull. They see the unnatural angle his neck bends in. The Smarkstron flickers again. They see the Slaughterer try and stumble back up the entrance ramp, shoving away the EMTs, ignoring the encouragement of the fans. They see the glazed look in his eyes. They see him fall. SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... The distortion hits, and the arena lights up – every available spotlight is trained on the entrance ramp. White blasts of pyrotechnics streak up, down, across the arena, back and forth along the ramp, sending sparks spiraling everywhere. The Smarkstron flickers one final time, and the image changes – the burning ankh, gigantic, red, consumed by flames, towers over the audience, three stories tall...and the first line of the song echoes out over the crowd. Today, the warning came in the floooooooood... A final burst of white pyro shoots up from the center of the entrance ramp, temporarily blinding the audience to the curtains behind...and through the sparks that trail behind... ...comes Nathaniel Kibagami. “And his opponent...” SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... “...weighing in at two hundred and sixty-one pounds...” SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... “...hailing from Phoenix, Arizona...” SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT... “...NATHANIEL KIBAGAMI!” The river dragon has come – souls wash away... The earth has spoken, and taken them to their graaaaaaves... The ominous, driving metal of Nevermore is nearly drowned out by an arena full of fans chanting Kibagami’s name. He looks no different than before – new tattoos – dark red flames running the lengths of his arms – glisten under the spotlights; his black hair tossed back over his shoulders, white wrestling tights with blood-red ankhs seemingly burned into them, and that smile – that death’s-head grin that every man and woman in the SWF has learned to be wary of. Alan Clark is visibly stunned as the River Dragon climbs through the ropes and onto the turnbuckles. He extends his arms in the too-familiar crucifix pose...his tattoos ripple as he flexes his arms. The words on his chest expand as he breathes. There is no sign of atrophy here. There is no sign of weakness here. There is nothing left but fire in Nathaniel Kibagami. “Nathaniel Kibagami is back!” Comet finally finds his voice. “The Silent One has returned! He’s been out of commission for seven months – citizens, I thought we’d never see this man in the squared circle again, and he looks to be in the best shape of his life!” “You say that every time, Comet. He’s just another washed-up cripple. And here I was, expecting piano wire. I should’ve known better than to hope for good things out of Alex Zenon.” Riley does his best to sound bored, but his voice betrays him, and a shot of the announcer’s table shows a look of unbridled curiosity on his face. Before he took his seat behind that table, Bobby Riley was a wrestler himself – one of the better ones, despite what the fans have made of him today. Riley has held gold before. Riley has wrestled the best in the business, and he knows much more about wrestling than he lets on most of the time. There is something in the way Kibagami carried himself to the ring that has put doubt in Bobby Riley. There is something in the way he stands that makes Riley think that maybe his partner is right. There is something about Nathaniel Kibagami that nobody can quite put their finger on, and it bothers Bobby Riley. It bothers him a lot. Nobody knows what it is about Nathaniel Kibagami that makes him keep coming back. Nobody knows what it is about Nathaniel Kibagami that allows him to keep going. DING DING! Alan Clark is about to find out.

The Joe Louis Arena is filled from top to bottom with cheering fans, causing a rumble all around the building. The usual SWF faithful smark crowd can be seen dotted around, including the dudes dressed up as Suicide King and Axis. Also in the sea of fans are the usual sings, including “ALLISON FOR FLESHER!” “TOXXIC IS STILL OVERPUSHED!” and “WILLIAMS FOR CHAMP!” Funyon makes his way into the ring to announce the next match as Referee Nick Soapdish strolls down from the side of the ramp and slides into the ring. Comet: Welcome back to SWF Storm Citizens! With Robert Riley and me… Riley: Oh someone give me some ear plugs… Comet: …CYCLONE COMET! Already tonight, we’ve seen the debut of the latest SWF talent, Austin Sly. We’ve seen Citizen Aecas take on Citizen Dangerous, the USJL Title has been on the line as well… Riley: My ears…please Comet, just be quiet! Comet: And we’ve still got a tag team match between Citizen Flesher and Miss Onita against the House of Todd. What’s sure to be a brutal Strap Match for Toxxic’s ICTV title against Citizen Bailey. Riley: We’re already seen one psycho tonight, do we need another? Really? Comet: Along with our huge main event where Charlie Matthews will take on Danny Williams in a non-title match. Riley: Dace and Danny lost to Toxxic and Liston last time around and now Danny’s fighting the World Champion? What the hell is going on here? Surely Toxxic should be getting a World Title shot if anything. Comet: Well Riley, you’re not booking are you. Anyway, right now we’ve got Citizen Night facing the Insane Luchador for the first time in a very long time. In this hardcore setting, you just know it’s going to be messy. Riley: I hope those two just hurry up and cripple each other. It’ll be so much easier on all of us. Funyon: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest will be for one fall under hardcore rules! Rrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh! WE WANT HARDCORE! WE WANT HARDCORE! WE WANT HARDCORE! Riley: You can tell we’re in Detroit can’t you Comet. Bloody animals. Funyon: Introducing firstly, from Easton Pennsylvania weighing in at two hundred and one pounds … INSANE LUCHADOR! Yyyyyyyyyyaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh! The Gauntlet kicks into life over the arena’s PA system as red, green and white pyro explodes around the stage. Standing at the top of the stage, IL looks around at the cheering fans before sprinting down the ramp, waving at the fans. Rather than diving into the ring, IL slides under the ring apron and starts to drag out some toys for the match. Dragging out chairs, tables, trash cans and spots signs, the Luchadore grins at his plunder before sliding into the ring with a chair. Climbing the turnbuckles, he throws his hands up to the cheering fans, Insane waits for his opponent. LUCHA-DOR! LUCHA-DOR! LUCHA-DOR! LUCHA-DOR! Funyon: And his opponent, from Birmingham England, weighing in at two hundred and fifty two pounds … DACE… FUCKING! Funyon: NIGHT! Hero screams into life with the blasts of pyro running up the ramp to the top of the stage. Staring down the ramp to Insane Luchador, Dace starts to move towards the ring, tagging hands with the ringside fans as he goes. Not waiting to face Horrorcore straight on, Insane takes a running leap into the ropes and launches himself through the air. Looking up, Dace Night sees a two hundred pounds human missile diving towards him. Spreading his arms like a catcher, Dace takes all the impact of the dive and literally snatches Luchador out air and into his tattooed arms. Oooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhh! DING, DING, DING! As the opening bell rings, Night swings around and plants IL onto the floor with a bone jarring Spinebuster. Insane can do nothing but arch his back and cry out in pain as Dace grabs his legs and folds them over into cover as Soapdish scrambles out of the ring to the floor. ……ONE! Kickout! Rrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh! Comet: Citizen Night almost broke Luchador’s back right there! Citizen Insane tried to catch him with a huge Plancha only to get splatter onto the floor! Riley: I’m just going to sit back and watch these two idiots kill themselves and laugh when they end up crippled. Ah they day is good for me Comet. Pealing Rickmen up from the floor Dace scoops him up into the air before sending him crashing down, back first across a crash can with a crash that echoes around the arena. Rickmen clutches at his back, gritting his teeth as he tries to crawl away from Dace. Reaching down, Horrorcore pulls up the struggling Insane and yanks him into a vice-like Rear Waistlock. Snapping backwards and launching IL over his shoulder, Dace plants him head first onto the concrete floor with a Backdrop Driver. Comet: BACKDRROOOPPP DRRRRIIIIIVVVVAAAAAHHHHH! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! Rolling over , Dace cradles up the unmoving Insane Luchador as Soapdish dives in… ONE! TWO! THREE! RRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! Funyon: Here is your winner, DACE… FUCKING! Funyon: NIGHT! Riley: What the hell was that? Are these two injured or something? Comet: I guess so Robert. Fade Out…

*knock-knock* Alexander Zenon looks up from his desk in the Commissioner’s Office and focuses on the figure standing in the doorway. Spiky hair, a title belt slung over each shoulder and a cocky, lop-sided grin greet his eyes. “Ah, Toxxic,” Zenon says, pushing his chair back. “Have a seat. I was expecting a visit from you before now.” “And why’s that?” Toxxic asks, slumping down in the proffered chair with one leg over the arm. The straight-edger stacks one belt on top of the other and sets them - ostentatiously - on Zenon’s desk. “Because of the notes Mark Stevens left me,” Zenon replies, thumbing through a file. “Let’s see now. Yes, here we are; ICTV and Hardcore Champion, although I can see that for myself... just over two months with the company... dedicated, determined, talented... and an arrogant little prick.” The Interim Commissioner looks up and smiles. “His words, not mine.” “I don’t doubt it,” Toxxic grunts, his eyes not leaving Zenon’s face. “Stevens always thought I should be grateful for the stupid matches he put me in, and it offended him when I told him to-” “Do something not appropriate for a family show?” Zenon cuts in. “Right,” Toxxic grins. “And that’s why I’m here to see you. I want you to realise from the start that I’m not some performing animal, and I won’t take being pushed around.” “Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t Mark Stevens’ matches get you both those titles?” Zenon asks mildly, pointing to the two bits of shiny metalware adorning his desk. “Most people would be grateful for the chance to be double champion two months into their career here.” The Commissioner is taken aback by how fast Toxxic’s mood changes, the straight-edger snapping upright in his chair and leaning over the desk towards him. “It was Stephens who wanted me competing for the Hardcore Title, not me,” Toxxic bites off. “All I wanted was to wrestle; he put me in a contendership match I didn’t want because he knew I’d always give it 100%, and then he authorised a 200 Lightube match between me and Aecas on my first PPV, less than a month into my career here! Yeah, sure, he gave me a title shot later on that led to me getting the ICTV title, but have you been checking out my matches lately?” Toxxic leans back again, checking them off on his fingers. “He books me and Liston against him and Tom Flesher - that’s two former World Champions in one team! Then I had to wrestle Dace Night. Then I had a 10-fall Falls Count Anywhere Ironman match against Rickmen which ended up with me having to fight for the entire show. THEN I got Dace and another former World Champion in Danny Williams in another tag match. And NOW I get jammed into a match that has nothing whatsoever to do with wrestling; a strap match against Terrence Bailey! That’s not a wrestling match, that’s just an excuse for Stevens to see how long it takes the psycho to pound me to a pulp while the fans egg him on. And I’m supposed to defend my title?” The Straight-Edge Sensation sits back, apparently convinced he’s made his point. “So what do you want from me?” Zenon asks. “It’s my job as Interim Commissioner to make matches the fans want to see, and to try and get the talent to reveal their true potential. If that involves putting you in matches you don’t want to be in - tough. And please don’t try and threaten me,” he continues, seeing Toxxic’s face darken. “I had to deal with Terrence last show and he’s far scarier than you.” “I’m not threatening you,” Toxxic replies. “But if you want to find out exactly how miserable I can make your life if I try hard enough, just go ask your friend Mark Stevens.” Abruptly the British punk rises, scooping up his title belts. “But I guess your mind is made up. I’ll give you one word of advice though, one that Grand Slam never really heeded.” “Be careful what match you book me in. Book me in a straight-up wrestling match, and I’ll face whoever you want. I’ll face Dace again, I’ll face Terrence again - if it’s an actual wrestling match rather than some circus act. I’ll face Annie, I’ll face Flesher, I’ll face Duran, I’ll face bloody Grappler if you put his title on the line.” Toxxic stops at the door, grey eyes boring into Zenon’s face. “But if you do book me in a Hardcore match, or something even crazier, remember that even though I don’t like them, I am good at them. And if you put me in an environment with no rules, the person you book against me is going to get hurt.” With that, Toxxic turns and disappears, pulling the office door shut behind him. Alex Zenon stares after him for a long moment before turning to resume his paperwork. “Arrogant little prick...” he mutters.

Storm returns to the airwaves, the fans still on a high following the two preceding matches, and it doesn’t take long for the crowd noise to hit a new level of hate as Cypress Hill’s “How I Could Just Kill A Man” resonates throughout the arena to signal the arrival of the USJL Champion Stryke. Comet: “Welcome back ladies and gents to the world’s premiere atmospheric disturbance-themed wrestling show in SWF Storm, and we’re wasting no time in getting back into the action as Stryke, a man coming off a beating at the hands of one Tom Flesher makes his first title defence.” Riley: “And it’ll be a successful one at that. Edward James may be coming off his first SWF victory, but that’s just one compared to Stryke’s many, James may have shown some talent but the Australian superstar just possesses a vast, VAST experience advantage. Vast.” Stryke steps through the curtain to a wave of boos by the Detroit crowd, paying no attention to the fans as he purposely heads towards the ring, looking to have lost a little of his swagger after his humbling at the hands of The Superior One. He still takes the time to ensure his title belt is shined to perfection though, the USJL belt firmly around Stryke’s waist as he climbs into the ring, Funyon commencing the introductions. Funyon: “The following contest is a TRIPLE IMPACT match for the unified UNITED STATES/JUNIOR LEAGUE CHAMPIONSHIP! Entering first, he is the DEFENDING USJL champion, from Sydney, Australia this is STRYKE!!!” Stryke hops onto the nearest turnbuckle, removing the belt from his waist and holding it high to the crowd, only serving to draw more negativity for his troubles. Stryke doesn’t seem to mind one bit though, the Australian dropping down and handing off the title to Funyon before casually resting back against the ropes, looking generally disinterested about the match at hand. Comet: “I certainly hope citizen Stryke doesn’t keep this nonchalant attitude once the match begins. Stryke may have a great experience advantage, being one of the few remaining stars from the IGN days, but Edward James wouldn’t have a contract if he weren’t talented, if Stryke’s not careful we could be seeing a new champion by the end of this contest!” The lights suddenly drop out, a cheer going up for the challenger as an ominous voice echoes… “An overwhelming symbol of power...” …segueing into the opening notes of “Darkest Omen”, two spotlights shining down on the entrance and Edward James! James slowly stalks towards the ring, an intense look across his face as he looks towards the biggest opportunity of his career, Funyon continuing the introductions. Funyon: “And now making his way to the ring the challenger, weighing 276 pounds from Redwater, Alberta, Canada, this is EDWARD JAMES!” The Michigan crowd cheers the newcomer, James raising his fist in the air as he steps into the ring, itching for the bell to ring as he looks across at the much smaller opponent standing between him and his first piece SWF gold. All that’s left to announce is the particular move that James or Stryke must hit three times to win, as Funyon once again brings the microphone to his mouth, taking the card out of his pocket. Funyon: “The move chosen at random that must be hit three times to win is a POWERBOMB!” The crowd roars in approval, a smile coming across Edward James’ face as his chances of victory just got a lot better. Stryke meanwhile is furious, throwing one hell of a tantrum as he finds out that he has to powerbomb a man with more than 50 pounds weight advantage. Riley: “This is a Todd-damn travesty! How the hell is Stryke supposed to powerbomb James once, let alone three times! As if that wasn’t unfair enough the powerbomb is one of James’ signature moves, I tell you, someone’s got it out for Stryke. Where’s your justice now Comet?!” Stryke is complaining to anyone who’ll listen, yelling at Funyon, Kivell, the cameramen, anyone within range to do something about this. Edward James has zero sympathy for Stryke’s position however, the much larger man charging at Stryke and running right over him with a HUGE Lariat as the bell rings! DING DING DING! The crowd cheers in approval as Stryke is sprawled out on the canvas, the Australian seeing stars right off the bat! Edward James doesn’t waste a second in taking advantage either, grabbing Stryke and pulling him into a standing headscissors! Comet: “And citizen James is going for a Powerbomb mere seconds into the match! We could be looking at a huge upset!” Stryke starts to regain his senses, but it makes little difference as James just powers Stryke up into the air with apparent ease, the crowd on their feet! As quickly as he brings Stryke up Eddy J sends him down again, DRIVING Stryke into the canvas with a huge Powerbomb!! Funyon: “Edward James takes a 1-0 lead!” Stryke writhes on the mat as the impact sends pain shooting all throughout his body and the crowd love every second of it, the fans right behind Edward James as they can smell a new champion on the cards! Riley: “I can’t believe this, this whole match seems to be biased against Stryke, and now James takes the lead with a sneak attack clothesline and the first powerbomb of the match! I can safely say this is the single worst event in the history of the world unfolding before our very eyes.” Comet: “Save the melodrama, Robert, it’s Stryke’s own fault for complaining about the match and not focusing on his opponent. For all his experience it seems citizen Stryke still has the focus and composure of an eight year old on a sugar high.” Edward James smartly keeps the pressure on, reaching down and looking to pull Stryke back in position for a second powerbomb. But despite taking early damage Stryke still has the awareness to fight back, quickly darting forward and taking the 6’7” James down with a double leg takedown! Having temporarily toppled the giant Stryke rolls away, moving towards the ropes and then out to the floor, the crowd really getting on his case now as Stryke takes a much needed breather, dropping to his knees as he holds the back of his head from the effects of the powerbomb. Riley: “This is smart, the rookie got the quick start, but now Stryke can slow it down and start over, on an even playing field James won’t be so lucky. This match is still a travesty, but if anyone can figure out a way to beat these odds it’s Stryke, he’ll think of something.” James rises back to his feet in the ring, stoically standing tall and waiting for Stryke to get back in the ring. Taking things far more seriously now Stryke climbs back onto the apron, yelling at Kivell to keep James back as he steps through the ropes. Back in the ring Stryke moves towards James as if to lockup, but at the last moment ducks under Eddy J’s grasp and moves behind him, shoving him into the ropes. James rebounds back, and Stryke is right there, jumping in the air and connecting with a dropkick! James staggers back onto the ropes but doesn’t leave his feet, Stryke quickly back up and moving to James, taking him by the arm and going to whip him across the ring, only for James to hold on and reverse it, sending Stryke to the ropes instead! Stryke rebounds as James goes for another deadly lariat, but Stryke sees this one coming and ducks underneath, continuing onto the opposite ropes. Eddy J turns and tries to recover as he catches Stryke on the next rebound with a tilt-a-whirl, but before he can execute a move Stryke latches his feet around his opponents head and snaps James down to the canvas with a Hurricanrana! Riley: “This is what Stryke needs to do, use his speed advantage and try to hit-and-run against the larger rookie. If he can wear him down enough maybe Stryke can muster up the strength to score the powerbomb.” The boos again start to flow as Stryke pops to his feet quickly, Edward James pulling himself up as well but the hurricanrana has him slowed enough for Stryke to cut him off with a Superkick, Stryke connecting right on the jaw, James crumpling back to the canvas as Stryke stands tall over him, a smirk on his face as he starts to feel in control of the match. Comet: “Stryke manages to chain a few moves together, but he cannot lose sight of the big picture, if he gets cocky or underestimates Edward James for a second this could turn right back in the rookies favor.” Instead of following up Stryke stays idle and allows James to rise under his own power, the crowd clapping to try and encourage Eddy J to get back into the match. Stryke sets himself as James reaches his feet before charging at the nearest turnbuckles, the Australian running up to the top and launching himself back off, landing on James’ shoulders as he looks for a top rope Hurricanrana! Stryke falls back to snap James back into the canvas, but this time a big cheer rises from the crowd as Eddy J plants his feet and refuses to budge! Edward James takes full advantage of his leverage advantage, and Stryke is suddenly left dangling with nowhere to go! James again shows the raw strength he possesses as he gets a tight grip of Stryke’s leg and just yanks him right back onto his shoulders, Stryke desperately flailing and trying to wiggle his way out of his predicament, but it’s to no avail as Eddy J throws Stryke down full force, Stryke’s back meeting the hard canvas with tremendous at the hands of a second Edward James Powerbomb!!! Funyon: “The challenger Edward James now takes a 2-0 lead in this matchup!” Riley: “This can’t be happening! Come on Stryke, you can’t let this rookie beat you! I’ve just gotten over Coy West as USJL champ, I don’t know if I can take James with the belt.” Comet: “At this rate Edward James is looking to follow in citizen Toxxic’s footsteps by capturing SWF gold early on in his career, Stryke is in real trouble now, and even with the talent this may be one match he just can’t win!” The crowd volume goes up with every moment, an “EDDY J” chant starting to build as the fans try and encourage him to complete Stryke’s comeuppance. Stryke arches his back in agony as a result of the second powerbomb he’s felt, his only saving grace is being close to the ropes, Stryke’s grabbing hold of the bottom rope the only thing preventing James from lifting him up for a third and final powerbomb. James stomps away at the prone US champion, 275+ pounds of force behind each hard kicks as he gradually forces Stryke towards the nearest turnbuckle. With Stryke now seated in the corner Eddy J reaches down and wraps both hands around Stryke’s neck, dragging him up onto his feet like a ragdoll before stepping up onto the second turnbuckle, raising his fist in the air to a cheer before starting with the 10 punches, the crowd counting along! ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! …but the sixth punch belongs to Stryke, and his is aimed at a far lower and more tender area than Eddy J’s were! Comet: “Typical underhanded behaviour from Stryke, bending the rules at every opportunity.” Riley: “Well in this match there’s no rules against it, so save your justice and morals crap for another time. With his title hanging in the balance Stryke needs to do whatever it takes to win, if he has to hit a low blow, bite him, use a chair, drop a 20 pound steel grate on his head, whatever, then that’s just what he’ll do.” The Detroit crowd boos like they just saw the Red Wings lose in the Stanley Cup Finals as James is temporarily paralysed with pain emanating from the lower-nutsack region. Stryke quickly moves to capitalise, grabbing hold of Eddy J’s waist and stepping forward before dropping him down to the canvas with a Powerbomb off the turnbuckles!! Riley: “I told you Stryke would think of something, it would be terribly difficult for him to lift James up himself, so he uses a powerbomb out of the corner and takes the lift out of the equation!” Funyon: “Stryke scores with the powerbomb, Edward James now leads the match 2-1.” Stryke still staggers out of the corner from the effect of Eddy J’s punches, taking a moment to shake out the cobwebs before moving over to James, reaching down and pulling him into a standing headscissors! Comet: “Now comes the real test for Stryke, will he be able to lift Edward James?” Stryke draws on all the energy he can muster as he wraps his arms around James’ waist, before planting his feet and pulling Eddy J up into the air! The only problem is that ‘in the air’ amounts to about three inches before James drops back onto his feet. The less-than-happy Stryke desperately tries again, but before he can do anything James stands tall, lifting Stryke up and over with a Back Body Drop! Stryke stumbles to his feet holding his back as James charges at the ropes, springing back and LEVELLING Stryke with a Big Boot!! Comet: “Stryke’s powerbomb clearly didn’t have the same force behind it as Eddy J’s powerbombs, James right back on top as Stryke is again reeling. And from the looks of things Stryke’s title reign may be coming to a close as Edward James looks for the powerbomb!” With the USJL Title tantalisingly within his grasp James moves to stick the final nail in Stryke’s coffin, the crowd unanimously on their feet as James grabs the champ in position for the third and final Powerbomb. The weakened Stryke can’t do nothing but go along for the ride as James effortlessly lifts Stryke up onto his shoulders, but before James can deliver the move Stryke makes full use of his acrobatic abilities as he slips off the side of James, snatching Eddy’s arm on the way down and pulling him down with an Arm Drag! Riley: “What a counter by Stryke! There’s no way he’ll let Edward James win, Stryke will die before letting that USJL Belt get away.” The crowd boos vehemently as Stryke refuses to die, the Australian moving right for the turnbuckle and climbing up to the top, waiting for Edward James to get back to his feet. James starts to rise, but instead of climbing to his feet he dives at the ropes, knocking into them and causing Stryke to lose his balance, slipping and crotching himself right on the top turnbuckle! The crowd is again right behind James as he moves over to the corner, climbing up and hooking Stryke in position for a superplex! Despite the pain from landing on the turnbuckle Stryke knows he has to fight back, stunning James with sharp right hands to his midsection, giving Stryke the chance to slip out of Eddy J’s grasp and dive right over the top of him. On the way down Strkye catches him around the waist, using his momentum to pull James off the turnbuckle and slam him to the canvas with a Sit-Out Powerbomb!!! Funyon: “Stryke has tied the match 2-2! The next individual to hit a powerbomb will win the USJL Title!” Riley: “What a champion, Stryke comes back from 0-2 down to tie the match! It’s all going Stryke’s way now.” Comet: “I would not get so confident Robert, after being hit with a powerbomb off the turnbuckles twice now I doubt citizen James will fall for the same trick again, and without the turnbuckles for help I don’t know if Stryke can get the last powerbomb he needs!” James rolls on the mat in obvious pain, but in a testament to his strength he fights through the pain and starts to push himself up. Stryke meanwhile heds back to the same turnbuckle they just came off, again climbing to the top and waiting for James to come to him. Comet’s words prove prophetic however, as James rolls away from Stryke’s corner, avoiding him altogether. Realising his trap won’t work a third time Stryke drops off the turnbuckle and runs at James, knocking him back down with a hard stomp to the side of the head before he can get to his feet. Stryke is clearly slowed by the effects of the match so far, but still he pulls James into a powerbomb position, straining and letting out a groan as he tries to lift Edward James into the air, but he just can’t do it! Stryke tries again, but James just won’t budge. The crowd cheer as Stryke lets go of James, looking perplexed about what to do, but quickly a light goes on in his mind and he thinks of something, reaching down and pulling James up onto his feet. Comet: “The concerns about Stryke not being able to powerbomb Edward James have come to pass, now one must wonder just what Stryke will be able to do, especially with James avoiding getting near Stryke and he turnbuckles again.” Referee Kivell keeps watch on the competitors as Stryke brings James to a standing base, taking him by the arm and moving to irish whip him across the ring. Kivell darts out of the way, but instead of releasing Strkye holds on, pulling James back and reversing the direction of the whip, Stryke aiming James right for Kivell’s new location, the referee with nowhere to go as James collides right with him, sending Kivell down to the canvas! James stumbles back from the impact, right into the clutches of Stryke who utilises James’ own momentum against him to lift him up and throw him over with a SAVAGE Release German Suplex, Stryke dumping James right on his cranium!! Comet: “Now that was CLEARLY a deliberate move by Stryke to take down the referee, a typically heinous move from a desperate man.” Riley: “Oh who cares about the referee, really. Stryke just brought himself some time, not to mention Edward James won’t be powerbombing anything after landing on his skull like that.” With James folded up on the canvas Stryke moves over to Kivell, brushing him with his boot a few times to ensure he’s awake before moving back to James, dragging him up. From there Stryke draws on all the energy he has left, scooping James up for a Scoop Slam before slamming him down to the mat. Stryke quickly moves around to the legs of James and holds them as if he just powerbombed him down, the crowd looking on confused at what Stryke is doing. It soon becomes clear however, as Kivell hears the sound of someone being slammed to the mat and looks up to see Stryke holding Eddy J in a powerbomb position, and thinking Stryke just powerbombed his opponent he signals for the bell! DING DING DING! Stryke immediately bails from the ring, moving over to the timekeepers table and taking back the USJL belt, not even waiting for the announcement of his victory before storming back up the ramp. Riley: “YES! Stryke wins, what a brilliant move! With Kivell seeing stars he thought Stryke powerbombed James, and that’s good enough for me!” Comet: “You talked about this match being a travesty against Stryke, well THIS was a travesty! Justice has not been served tonight, Edward James was all over Stryke tonight, and if not for this piece of devious trickery would probably have left Michigan the new USJL champion! I hope somebody in the back takes a look at this, Edward James was screwed and should get another shot as soon as possible. One day Stryke will get what he deserves, justice always prevails in the end.” Riley: “Cram it, Comet. The referee called Stryke the winner, so he’s the winner. If James feels like he got screwed and wants another shot, then I’m sure Stryke will be more than happy to beat his ass once again whenever he wants, hopefully in a match not so obviously biased against him. With the US belt still right where it belongs we can now move on to another match I’m looking forward to, with Dace Night and the Insane Luchador beating the stuffing out of each other for my enjoyment, and it’s up NEXT!”

Detroit is alive and rocking as Storm’s theme booms across the Joe Louis Arena, bringing the SOLD OUT~ crowd to their feet as we return from commercial break! “Welcome back, good Citizens,” pipes Comet, with a wide-toothed grin, “and you couldn’t have picked a better time to tune in tonight as we are just about ready for our next match up! Tonight… Johnny Dangerous will take on the Black Angel himself, in what is sort of a continuation from the Tag Team Title match that took place just two shows ago, where Wild and Dangerous fell to Aecas and Terrence Bailey of the Unholy Trinity, loosing the titles in the process!” “And what a blessing in disguise that was,” adds Riley. “Though I still don’t rate anyone claiming allegiance to the Unholy Trinity very high on the scale, I’m just glad to have seen SOMEONE finally rid us of the Wild and Dangerous title reign - those pint sized cheats got what they deserved!” “I don’t know about all that,” replies Comet, “but at any rate… I’m sure there will be quite a bit of animosity between Johnny Dangerous and Aecas. Those titles mean a lot to those Citizens, and Johnny’s probably still feeling the effects of the Black Death Driver he received at the hands of the Black Angel during that match.” “What a pansy,” spits Bobby. “He’s just throwing himself a pity party with that one. If he was so bad off, than why is he wrestling tonight?” “Because that’s the spirit of a true competitor there, Citizen Robert,” snaps Comet. “Anyway, Funyon is already in the ring and ready to go, so let’s turn this one over to him.” “Ladies and Gentlemen,” bellows Funyon, “the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first… ” The arena goes dark for several long moments, prompting the crowd to buzz with anticipation for who is to come. Finally, an ominous graveyard bell rings out, just before a deep voice echoes through the speakers. "Are you scared?" A rather loud cheer erupts from the crowd as the voice bounces around the arena, hitting every wall before the voices come back together and say: "He's here... " Dark Funeral's “Dead Skin Mask” blasts out from the speakers as a lighting bolt flashes across the screen, highlighting Aecas on the Smarktron™ - a sadistic grin scribbled across his face. The arena is bathed in red lights as thick smoke boils up from the entranceway, filling the air and carpeting the floor. Finally, a blood red spotlight picks out Aecas, standing deep in the depths of the smoke with his flick scythe in one hand, and the Tag Team Title belt wrapped around his waist. He saunters down the ramp, heads towards the Timekeepers table to dispose of his scythe then turns and hops up to the ring apron, and steps into the ring while unfastening his title belt. “From Shrewsbury, England,” continues Funyon, “and weighing in at three hundred-fifteen pounds, he is one half of the SMARTMARK WRESTLING FEDERATION TAG TEAM CHAMPIOOOOONS… the Black Angel, AECAAAAAAAS!!” Smiling to the roar of cheers, Aecas lowers his arm holding up the Tag Title, and then hands his belt off to Referee Matthew Kivell for safe keeping as his title is most definitely not on the line tonight. “Dead Skin Mask” begins to fade into the background and Aecas steps back into a corner, patiently awaiting the arrival of his opponent. “Aecas definitely looks confident tonight,” notes Comet. “As he should,” replies Bobby. “Aecas has already proven that he’s got what it takes to put Johnny down and out, and this will be no different! Just look at him, Comet, he is three hundred plus pounds of muscle – Johnny doesn’t even compare!” “But it takes more than brawns to win a match,” declares Comet, “it takes a good solid strategy. If you remember correctly, Johnny is a former secret agent; being outnumbered, outgunned, and out muscled are situations he is accustomed to. What Johnny lacks in strength he can more than make up for it with his nimble mind!” “If that was the case then why aren’t Wild and Dangerous still the Tag Champs, Comet?” But before Comet has to come up with an answer, Funyon continues with the introductions, “And his opponent… ” As the lights dim, a voice picks up on the speakers, whispering a name in a deep, sultry voice… “JOHNNY DANGEROUS~!” “After the Flesh” thunders out across the arena, while the stage, still hazy from the smoke with the Black Angels entrance, begins to cloud with even more smoke! Dozens of strobes light up the set, piercing through the smoke and partially illuminating the Barracuda as he steps out from backstage dressed in his sleek-black casual attire with a pair of high-tech shades! Tonight, however, there is no smile adorning the Barracuda’s face. Instead he looks on with almost a bleak expression as he stares into the ring, focusing on one of the two men that defeated Wildchild and himself for the Tag Team Championship. “From Las Vegas, Nevada,” continues Funyon, “and weighing in at two hundred and seventeen pounds, JOOOOOHNNY ‘THE BARRACUDAAAAA’ DAAAANGEROUUUUSSS!!” The crowd roars excitedly as Johnny is announced, prompting the Barracuda to make his way down the ramp towards the ring. He lets his coat slide off his arms as he makes his way, then grabs his shades and tears them from his face, dropping them to the floor just before he slides into the ring. “Here comes Johnny Dangerous,” announces Comet, “and he looks none to happy!” Johnny pops up to his feet and Aecas steps out of his corner, meeting the snarling Barracuda face-to-face in the middle of the ring. The two exchange brief words with Johnny motioning to his neck and pantomiming a title around his waist, then finally ending with the Barracuda rapping his pointing finger against the Black Angle’s chest! The crowd rises from their seats, cheering madly for the battle to come as Aecas gazes down at Johnny’s finger… then back up to his face… WHOOOOSH! … And suddenly SWINGS for Johnny’s mouth, looking to permanently shut it, but Dangerous quickly ducks out of the way then spins on his heel, unloading a Roundhouse Kick into the Black Angel’s gut! DING! DING! DING! Kivell signals for the bell as Johnny’s foot rocks Aecas’ ribcage, taking the Black Angel’s feet at least an inch off the mat! As soon as Aecas’ feet touch back down, Johnny spins again, only this time in the opposite direction, while dropping to the mat with a Russian Leg Sweep! WHAM! “By Zeus,” cries Comet, as Aecas slams into the canvas. “I think Johnny pulled Aecas right into his trap there; goading the Black Angel into taking a swing and completely flipping the tables on him, a fine example of a strategy in place!” “Well, it’d definitely take the starch out of you, that’s for sure.” Johnny dives for the Black Angel, landing on top of his chest and begins pounding away on Aecas’ skull! Kivell, the good ref that he is, drops down and administers a one count before stopping as the Barracuda goes to town on Aecas’ face. Bap! Bap! Bap! Bap! Bap! “Kivell was there to give him the count, but Johnny isn’t even interested in it right now. He has literally exploded all over the Black Angel’s head!” “Yeah…well, Johnny’s stark raving MAD if he thinks he’s going to go toe to toe with Aecas in some kind of a brawl here tonight,” Riley says. “I mean… they’re fools anyway, the whole lot of them, but Johnny really doesn’t want to get into a slug-fest with the Black Angel; he’d be signing his own death warrant there!” “I’d have to agree with that,” concedes Comet, “but possibly he’s just trying to get the Black Angel down on his back and keep him there. That would definitely be a good plan for Johnny.” Locking in a quick arm wrench, Johnny pulls Aecas to his feet, then twist the Black Angel’s arm around with an Arm Wringer… then gives the arm one good snap, eliciting a cry of pain from the Black Angel! However, the surge of pain seems to do little more to Aecas then give him a good wake up call as he quickly spins around and plants his fist straight into Dangerous’ mouth, jarring his arm loose! Johnny staggers backwards… but then steps right back in while balling up his fist, and then swings for Aecas’ head… But Aecas tosses a forearm up, blocking the punch and fires back, socking the Barracuda right in the eye! An “OOOOOH!” escapes from the crowd as Johnny stumbles backwards, with a hand to his eye and Aecas steps in, pulling the Barracuda’s arm back and unloads a series of punches into the Secret Agent’s skull! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! “And Aecas is battling back with some ferocious right hands,” shouts Riley, as Aecas plows his fist into Johnny one final time and the Barracuda falls into the ropes. “So much for Johnny’s brains giving him the edge; Aecas brute strength shows that even a hulked up retard can win at this game!” Aecas grabs Johnny by the wrist and pulls him off the ropes, then whips him across the ring. Johnny hits the ropes and comes rocketing back towards the Dark Angel, who presents a Big Boot to the Barracuda… But Johnny sails underneath Aecas’ oversized foot, heading to the opposite side of the ring! Dangerous leaps to the second rope, and SPRINGS~ off, twisting in midair as he looks to land a cross-body, but Aecas spins around and snatches Johnny out of the sky to a huge roar of cheers! “Aecas looked like he was ready for that one,” notes Comet, “and now the fate of the Barracuda is in the Dark Angel’s hands!” “So much for you mind over matter philosophy, eh Comet,” snickers Riley. Johnny bucks and flails, trying to worm his way free, but Aecas quickly ends the struggle as he drops Johnny across his knee with a backbreaker, inciting a howl of pain from the Barracuda! A sickening smile dashes across the Dark Angel’s face, seemingly enjoying Johnny’s cry for mercy as he hauls the Barracuda back up… and SLAMS Johnny back down across his knee once more! WHAM!! “Ouch,” Comet winces at the impact. “Aecas is taking straight to Johnny’s back, and with the brute strength powering the Black Angel’s fuel cell it won’t take much for him to permanently shut down the Barracuda’s operation.” “Fuel cell,” Bobby quizzically repeats. “What… is he solar powered now?” After the second backbreaker, Aecas allows Johnny to pop off his leg, and flop to the mat. Aecas drops to his knees, pressing his palms into Johnny’s chest as Kivell slides in for the count. “Oh, and we have a cover,” shouts Bobby, “this could be it!” ONEEE!! TWOOO!!! NO!! Johnny gets the shoulder up! “Almost,” says Riley. “If you’ll notice, Comet, there wasn’t much authority there behind that one; Johnny can’t last much longer at this rate… and this match has barely started!” Grabbing a handful of hair, Aecas helps Johnny back up to his feet and gives him a good sized kick to the gut, keeping the Barracuda subdued. Then, with a tight grip on Johnny’s wrist, Aecas viciously whips Dangerous across the ring, towards the turnbuckle, and quickly chases after him, looking to crush the Barracuda’s skull with his Yakuza Kick! But Johnny reaches out for the ropes on each side of the post and grabs on as he vaults himself into the air, and shoves off, landing directly behind Aecas as he storms into the turnbuckle only to find nobody home… WHAM!! … And Johnny plants a huge drop kick into Aecas’ back, knocking him into the ring post and down to his knees! “What a tremendous display of agility by Johnny Dangerous,” says Comet. “He caught Aecas by total surprise there!” “Right, sure thing, Comet,” Bobby says mockingly. “We’ve already seen where all that flipping around gets you; absolutely nowhere!” Johnny slides in from behind as the Black Angel scrambles to get back up, grabbing a good chunk of the Tag Champ’s hair and pulling back on it…then SLAMMING Aecas’ forehead into the turnbuckle to a tremendous roar from the crowd! Johnny steps in and spins Aecas around, backing the Black Angel into the turnbuckle as he climbs to the second rope, then unloads with a series of right hands into Aecas’ dome! “ONE!” “TWO!” “THREE!” “FOUR!” “FIVE!” “SIX!” “SEVEN!” “EIGHT!” “NINE!” “TEN!” “Oh come on ref,” cries Bobby, as Johnny hops down from the turnbuckle, letting Aecas lumber face-first to the mat. “That was blatantly illegal… not surprising since it’s coming from the second biggest cheat in this federation next to Wildchild, but what’s it going to take for a referee to finally take action against all these cheap tactics!” “I think Citizen Kivell is doing an outstanding job here tonight,” replies Comet. “And I fail to see where all this cheating you speak of is happening, but that’s your opinion… and you are certainly entitled to it.” “Your damn right I am,” spits Bobby, “and I’m the only Announcer that calls it like it is!” Reaching down and grabbing hold of the Black Angel’s head, Johnny begins to pull Aecas back up. He pulls Aecas up to one knee, then two… and Aecas swings his fist into the Secret Agent’s gut, catching him by total surprise! Johnny doubles over clenching his midsection as Aecas gets to his feet and steps forward scooping the Barracuda right off the mat, and lifting him high above his head gorilla-press-style… and holds him… “And what an amazing display of strength,” marvels Comet. “Aecas is holding Johnny up there like he isn’t anything!” “That’s because he isn’t,” Bobby says snidely. “But I agree on the amazing display of strength comment, none the less!” With the crowd cheering and flashbulbs exploding, Aecas holds Johnny above his head for what seems like a good five seconds if not more, before rushing forward and leaping up, flipping Johnny forwards as he lands in a sit-out position with a massive- “-Mother F’n Bomb,” calls Bobby, as the Black Angel drives Johnny’s back into the mat, sending a tidal shockwave across the ring. “Stick a fork in the Barracuda; this fish is fillet, fried, and done!” Aecas stays in the same seated position as he landed, wrapping his arms around Johnny’s legs and pressing forward as Kivell slides in to count! ONEEE!!! TWOOOO!!!!!! THR-NOOOO!!!!!!! Johnny bolts his shoulder up, with not even half a second to spare! “A close call for sure on that one,” says Comet, “and if you think that last kick out had no authority, than this one had about as much as a Security Guard!” Throwing out three fingers, Aecas tries to plead his case to Kivell, but the referee stands his ground, replying with two fingers instead. Knowing that it’d be a futile attempt to press the matter further, the Black Angel goes back to work on Johnny, grabbing the Secret Agent by the head and pulling him to his feet, stepping forward and whipping him across the ring. Johnny hits the ropes and rebounds, aimlessly headed back towards Aecas as the Black Angel rushes forward… KAAAA-RAAAAACK!! … AND ABSOLUTELY SHATTERS JOHNNY’S SKULL LIKE AN EGG AS COMET SHOUTS: “YAKUZAAAAAAAA KICK!” “I thought you were going for Johnny in this match,” questions Bobby. “I am,” Comet innocently replies, “but you can expect me to resist any trademarked calls.” Cheering rings out louder than it has all night (Which only being the second match in doesn’t say too much, but whatever.) as the Black Angel hovers over his crushed victim, breathing deeply, and seemingly pleased at his handwork. Finally, he drops down to his knees, and presses the palm of his hands into Johnny’s chest as Kivell slides in to count the Black Angel’s victory. ONEEE!!!! TWOOO!!!!!!!!! THRE-NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!! “BY ZEUS, ODIN, AND HERCULES,” shouts Comet, “Johnny gets the shoulder up… again! This man simply refuses to stay down!” “A fool in my book,” spits Bobby. “It’d be wise of him to just end this and save himself further embarrassment or even worse yet… more abuse at the hands of Aecas! Johnny has got to have the thickest f<bleep>ing head in this Federation!” “My word,” says Comet, simply aghast, “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” “No… but I sure suc… ” “Stop right there,” Comet interrupts. “I don’t think a single fan out there in T.V. Land wants to hear you finish that statement.” Finally having enough of this charade, Aecas steps out onto the ring apron and glides towards the turnbuckle as the crowd rises in anticipation. “Aecas is going up top,” shouts Comet. “We could be in store for Aecas’ Hard Rain here, and if he gets this off I’m afraid we might have to stretcher Operative Dangerous out of the arena tonight!” “Echoing my sentiments from earlier, that would be a true blessing in disguise,” says Bobby. “Ever since that blasted Wildchild revived the spark in Cruiserweight wrestling, we’ve had to sit through countless circus sideshows that they call matches. Before you know it, Frost – fresh off some magical low carb diet – will return as a cruiser.” “Don’t be absurd Bobby,” Comet replies, shaking his head. Climbing to the top, the Black Angel slowly rises to a standing position. He raises his arms out, absorbing all the cheering as if it’ll make him soar even higher, but alas, Aecas takes a little too much time and Johnny pops back up to his feet and speeds in to the turnbuckle… WHUMP! … And Johnny rams his palm into the Black Angel’s midsection with a vicious Shotei Palmstrike, knocking the wind completely out of Aecas’ pipes! “Whoa,” shouts Comet, as the arena roars with glee. “Did you see that, Citizen Robert? Johnny hopped back up to his feet and the split-second he saw what Aecas was up to, he speed into action. Now that’s what I call quick thinking!” Doubling over and dropping down from the blow, Aecas clenches his gut with one hand while holding onto the top rope with his other, desperately trying to maintain his balance! Unfortunately, this leaves him wide open for Johnny’s assault as the Barracuda unleashes a rapid series of stinging punches into Aecas’ face! Bap! Bap! Bap! BAp! Finally, the Barracuda heaves his arm over Aecas’ neck, snaring the Black Angel into a headlock… “What the hell is this fool doing,” says Bobby, the look of astonishment on his face. “Surely Johnny doesn’t think he can deliver a Super-Plex on Aecas… he’s too small!” Johnny takes the Black Angel’s arm, draping it over his shoulder as he steps up to the second rope and grabs a handful of Aecas’ tights… “I don’t think that’s what he is going for,” says Comet, watching wide-eyed as Johnny gives ever thing he’s got into pulling the Black Angel off the top… … AND WITH ONE FINAL, YET POWERFUL TUG, JOHNNY RAISES AECAS OFF THE TOP WITH A VERTICAL SUPLEX AND LEAPS BACKWARD’S FROM THE SECOND ROPE… WHAAAAAAAAAAAM!!!! … AND SPLATTERS THE BLACK ANGEL BACK-FIRST ACROSS THE CANVAS!! “By the sweet merciful hand of Triton,” shouts Comet, trying his hardest to make his voice audible over roar of the crowd. “I can’t believe it, the power and the drive inside Johnny Dangerous! Using the leverage of Aecas being on top of that turnbuckle, Johnny was able to deliver a powerful Vertical Suplex on the Black Angel… over three hundred pounds… and this could spell the end for the Dark Cherub!” “Yeah, but look at him,” says Bobby. “He ain’t got any gas left in the tank! He might have hit a big time maneuver on Aecas, but Aecas’ beating on Johnny from earlier has clearly bought him some time!” Johnny lies nearly motionless on the canvas, clearly having exerted all his energy on delivering his last move. All he can do is listen to them as they chant: “JOHN-NY!” “JOHN-NY!” “JOHN-NY!” “JOHN-NY!” Finally, Johnny, being the man that he is - driven to please his fans - rolls over onto his stomach and inches his way towards Aecas, heaving his arm over the Dark Angel’s chest. As expected, Kivell drops fro the count… ONEE!! TWOOO!!!! THREEEEE!!!!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!! “I CAN’T BELIEVE IT,” shouts Comet, “Aecas gets the shoulder up just before three! What will it take to put the Black Angel away!” “I’ll tell you what it will take,” Bobby replies matter-of-factly. “It takes something more than Johnny Dangerous has. It will take… something… TOXXIIIIIIIC!” “Oh for the love of Saint Nick,” says Comet, “spare me… and the rest of the world for that matter of your horrible shilling, Citizen Robert.” In the ring, Johnny climbs back to his feet as Aecas sits up… CRACK!! … And Johnny jumps up, extending both feet out, and SLAMS them into the Black Angel’s face, dropping him back into the canvas, flat on his back! Johnny hops back to his feet and trails off, heading towards the nearest turnbuckle, and hastily climbs to the top with the fan’s enthusiasm rising like a hot aired balloon! “And now… Johnny’s going up top,” shouts Comet, “and he is in position for his DEATH FROM ABOVE~!” Though he appreciates the zeal of the crowd, unlike his opponent, Johnny takes absolutely no time to revel in the fans cheering as he quickly Moonsaults off the top… … Extends both feet out, just before coming down… WHAAAAAAM!!!! … AND GRINDS BOTH FEET INTO AECAS’ CHEST WITH A MOONSAULT DOUBLE STOMP!! “D.F.A.,” calls Comet, “and what tremendous balance by the Barracuda to land without having to take a single step to regain it!” Johnny keeps his stance atop the Black Angel, outstretching his arms to the fans as Kivell drops to make the count… ONEEE!!!! TWOOOOO!!!!!!!! THREEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!! DING! DING! DING! The Joe Louis Arena erupts as “After the Flesh” kicks up again! Johnny sits up on his knees and lets out a sigh of relief, then climbs back up to his feet as Kivell swoops in, grabbing his arm. “The winner of this match by pin fall,” announces Funyon, “JOOOOOOHNNY DAAANGEROUUUUSS!!!” Letting go of Johnny’s arm, Kivell trails off to fetch the Tag Team Title belt for Aecas while Johnny holds his arm out to the crowd… then lets it flop down to his side. “What a tremendous effort by these two superstars,” declares Comet. “However, it was Johnny Dangerous who was able to come out with the win tonight; proving just as I said before that might does not always mean victory!” As Kivell strolls in with Aecas Tag Title Belt, Johnny abruptly spins around and snatches it from the Referee. For a moment he stares mournfully into the gleaming gold of the belt, sighing heavily. “Aw does poor wittle Johnny miss the belt already,” mocks Riley. “Get a good look Johnny; it’s the last you’ll see it!” “I don’t know about that,” Comet replies. “With Johnny’s win here he makes a good case to Commissioner Zenon for a rematch with against the Unholy Trinity.” Finally, Johnny lowers the belt then peacefully lays it across the Dark Angel’s chest before turning around and exiting the ring. “And THAT,” says Comet, “is all she wrote for this match. Stay tuned, Citizens, we’ll be right back after this special word from our sponsors!” As we: FADE OUT.

A sold out Joe Louis Arena comes to its feet in anticipation of another exciting SWF Storm! We're only 16 days away from Battleground and you can feel the anticipation radiating from the fans. "Welcome ladies and gentlemen to another edition of SWF Storm! Cyclooooone Comet here as always with my partner Bobby Riley." "That's ri" "Just look at all these fans here tonight," interupts Comet. "It's great to see so many people make it out week after week to support the sport that they love! Isn't that right Bobbo?" "I would have to" He is interupted again as Cyclone stands up and begins playing to the crowd. Everyone cheers him on and just drowns out Bobby completely. Obviously frustrated by his commentary partner, Riley puts his head into his hands and just waits for the crowd to die down. "Isn't this great?" yells Cyclone. "..." "Oh well... back to business... our first match of the night is sure to be an interesting one, citizens, as the returning Jacob Helmsley takes on newcomer Austin Sly. Quite an interesting pair, eh Riley?" "Whatever you say, Cyclone." replies Riley, obviously sulking. "What's wrong Citizen?" "Well it's just" Riley begins, but is quickly cut off by the start of our first match. I wanna get psycho! "Meaning Of Life" by Disturbed fills the arena as Jacob Helmsley emerges from the back. He pauses momentarily at the top of the ramp before starting his walk to the ring. "The following match is scheduled for one fall," starts Funyon, "making his way to the ring from Calgary, Alberta, Canada, weighing in at 227 pounds, Jacob Helmsley!" Jacob climbs up the ring stairs with his long trenchcoat flowing behind him. He slowly removes his coat and hangs it on the ring post before climbing through the ropes and into the center of the ring. He looks up the ramp, focused... waiting... The arena turns a dark blue as the sound of an acoustic guitar floats melodically through the air. Austin Sly emerges from the back with a calm strut, stopping at the top of the ramp. He stretches his arms and neck a little before continueing his decent to the ring. "Making his way to the ring from St. Louis, Missouri, weighing in at 230 pounds, Austin Sly!" Austin jumps up onto the apron and hooks his arm over the top rope. He looks out over the sold out Joe Louis Arena as the lights fade back to normal. He climbs through the middle rope and turns his attention to Jacob Helmsley for the first time. "Both of these men have a look of confidence about them Bobbo." "I'm glad they get your approval..." quips Riley. "Being overly confident is not always the best quality to possess in the ring citizen." DING DING DING "And our match is underway!" exclaims Cyclone. The two opponents begin the match by circling each other, neither one wanting to make the first move. Slowly, they make their way in toward each other before locking up. Jacob gets the early advantage and locks in a front head lock, but he's countered with a sharp punch to the gut as Austin shoves away. Weary of locking up again, Austin backs away to the ropes to catch his composure before trying again. Jacob doesn't want any of this though, as he quickly locks up with him again. Helmsley wins the advantage again as he sends a hard knee into Austin's gut, doubling him over. Helmsley sends another knee into Sly's stomach before sending him flying across the ring with an irish whip. However, Sly quickly slides underneath the bottom rope to once again slow the match to a hault. "He seems to want no part of this man" says Cyclone. "We're not even a minute into this match and Austin has already killed the pace twice." "This could be a good strategy though" replies Riley. Austin lumbers around the outside of the ring, showing absolutely no interest in even fighting Helmsley. The crowd begins to get all over him, stirring them into a frenzy of boos and obsenities. Jacob, however, wanting to get the match over with quickly, comes slidding out of the ring causing Austin to scurry away to the other side and slide back in. As Jacob comes slidding back in, he's met with a boot to the head. Austin continues the assault with some quick kicks to the head and neck before dropping an elbow into his back and trying for the quick pin. One! No! Kick out! Austin quickly pulls his opponent back up to his feet and fires him across the ring into the corner. Sly comes charging in after him, splashing in hard. Both men come staggering out of the corner, but Austin bounces himself off the closest ropes and hits a bulldog on his slightly dazed opponent. He wastes no time with keeping on top of Jacob though as he pulls him up by his left arm and twists it back around his back. Austin keeps applying pressure, but seemingly has forgotten that Jacob does indeed have two arms, as he's met with a elbow to his temple that sends him staggering back. Helmsly locks his arms around the waste of his opponent and sends him up and over with a belly to back suplex. Austin seemingly bounces back up off the mat and turns his attention back to Jacob, but he's met with a knife edge chop to the chest quickly followed by two more. As he tries to catch his breath again, Jacob wraps his arms around him and sends him up and over with a belly to belly suplex. Austin pulls himself back up using the second rope but Jacob pulls him to his feet and goes to irish whip him across the ring into the turnbuckles. It's reversed though as Jacob is the one that goes crashing into the corner instead. Austin comes charging in after him but Jacob moves out of the way causing him to slam chest first into the turnbuckles. Sly staggers back a little ways holding onto his chest, but is met with a stiff clothesline as Helmsley comes off the ropes that brings him down to the mat below. Jacob pulls him back to his feet and goes to irish whip him again, but instead pulls him back into a high knee causing Austin to scream out in pain and grab his stomach once again. Jacob turns him around and nails him with a DDT. Jacob is firmly in control of the match as he slowly pulls Austin back to his feet before trying to send him back down with a hard right hand to the temple. Austin goes reeling back a little and down to one knee. Jacob stalks his opponent and waits for him to climb back to his own feet before receiving another hard right hand for his troubles that sends him to the ropes this time. Austin uses this to his advantage though as he bounces off and tackles his opponent to the mat. He straddles Jacob and begins firing fist after fist to his face as Jacob tries to block them. The referee begins his count... one, two, three, four... and Austin rolls off of him and quickly climbs to his feet. "He keeps playing dead! Ha!" shouts Riley. "What a dishonest thing to do. Fight the good fight! Keep moving! An honest win can not be had by treachery." Jacob quickly climbs back to his feet with a scorn look on his face. He doesn't seem too impressed with the new comers antics. Austin backs away a little and begins shouting for Jacob to come get him, motioning him in. Jacob extends his arms to lock up with him again as he closes in. The two grapple for a second before Jacob pulls Austin down into a headlock, but is quickly shoved off and into the ropes. Jacob bounces off and catches Austin by surprise with a knee to chest, who was bent over antipating a back drop. Austin stands up sharply clutching his chest again before being sent up and over by Helmsley with another belly to belly suplex. He wastes no time getting back on Austin in this exchange though, as he quickly continues his assault. Helmsley tries to lock on his Buzzkill, but Austin grabs at the ropes and pulls himself away and out of the ring. The referee quickly cautions Jacob about the ropes before letting the match continue. Jacob returns to his persuit of Austin who is now standing on the ring apron with one hand clutching the top rope and one clutching his obviously abused chest. Helmsley goes to grab ahold of Austin's head to bring him back into the ring over the top rope, but Austin leans out of his reach and counters by grabbing Jacob's head instead and bringing his neeck down firmly across the top rope. Helmsley rockets back into the ring clutching at his throat. Sly seizes the opportunity though as he launches himself up onto the top rope and comes flying off of it at Helmsley's back with a springboard dropkick. The dropkick connects and sends Jacob down in a heap. Austin wastes no time pouncing on his opponent throwing right hands into his face... one... two... three... four... Helmsley doesn't put up with the abuse for long before he starts blocking punches and fighting back though. Working his way back to his feet, Helmsley takes control of the match again and sends yet another hard knee into Austin's gut, doubling him over. Helmsley wastes no time hitting an Evenflow DDT! "This could be it right here!" shouts Cyclone. "It can't be!" shouts back Riley. Jacob hooks the leg back going for a pin. One! Two! Th... no! A kickout! "He kicked out of an Evenflow!" "These are two tough men, Cyclone. I wouldn't be surprised if we see more near falls like that." replies Riley. Helmsley is shocked as he shoots back to his feet. He stares down at his opponent, as he rolls over onto his side to clutch at his mid section. Helmsley drags his opponent back to his feet, and flings him across the ring into the corner turbuckles. Austin comes crashing in back first to try and protect his injured stomach as much as possible. This however, puts him right where Helmsley wanted him, as he lines himself up for a Gore. However, while he comes running in, Austin jumps to the top rope making Helmsley crack his left shoulder hard against the corner post. Sly is able to capitalize on this as he uses his momentum to flip over Helmsley's back and bring him over with a sunset flip into a pin! One! Two! Kickout before the three! "For the first time in the match now Helmsley actually seems to have a weakness. That shoulder has got to be hurting him," announces Riley. Austin wastes no time trying to capitalize on the now hurting Helmsley as he brings him back to his feet before twisting his left arm around behind him. Sly kicks at Helmsley from behind causing him to fall to one knee before he brings Helmsley's left arm back around the front of his body and across his own neck to lock in a sleeper hold. Jacob quickly manages to reach the ropes and forces the hold to be broken though. Austin extends Jacob's arm though and delivers a few sharp kicks to his side before the referee makes him let go of his opponent. Sly backs up and puts his hands up in the air as if to say it wasn't his fault. Austin tries to get back on top of Helmsley, but he's met with a kick to the stomach. Sly reels around only to get his arms locked behind him in a full nelson. Jacob lifts his opponent into the air and brings him back down hard with a full nelson drop. He tries for a pin. One! Two! Kick out after two! Jacob keeps up the abuse on Austin by applying an abdominal stretch while Austin is still down on the mat. Sly screams out in pain as he's seemingly stuck in the center of the ring. The referee checks with him to see if he still wants to give in, but he refuses the easy out. Austin sticks his right foot out and lifts up his back trying to stretch toward the ropes. "I think he's stuck here." states Riley very matter-of-the-fact like. The duo inches toward the ropes though. Slowly, Austin lifts up his back again and shoots his foot towards the ropes. The crowd gets all over the two wrestlers, chanting in unison. "BOORRR-RIIINGGG!" "BOORRR-RIIINGGG!" "BOORRR-RIIINGGG!" Austin gets his foot in the ropes finally! The referee tries to make Helmsley relinquish the hold, but he refuses. One... two... three... four... and he lets go. Sly grasps at his stomach as he leans on the ropes for support. Helmsley tries to push the pace though as he lands another stiff kick to Austin's midsection, causing him to buckle over. Jacob grabs the back of his opponent's head and brings it down between his legs. "Are we going to see a little Revenge here?" quips Riley. "If so citizen, then this match is over." responds Comet. Austin quickly falls to his knees though, blocking the move. Jacob pulls him back up to his feet again, but Austin just falls back down. Jacob gets frustrated with his opponent as he lightens his hold on Austin's head just long enough for him to bring it up into his crotch. Helmsley hops away grabbing at himself, but the referee seems clueless as to the exchange, and just goes to check on him. This is just the opportunity Austin needed though as he uses this chance to quickly land a high knee into Jacob's midsection followed by a DDT. Both men bounce back up to their feet as Jacob comes charging in to only recieve a belly to belly suplex. Jacob bounces up again to recieve yet another belly to belly suplex. He's not so quick to get to his feet this time though as he more cautiously pulls himself back up. As Austin closes in on him, Helmsley takes a swing at Austin, only to have it blocked and recieve another stiff knee. Austin reels back and takes lands a hard right hand to the temple of Helmsley, knocking him back down to one knee. Helmsley regains his composure and quickly starts laying right hand after right hand to Austin's face. He sends his opponent back peddling into the center of the ring where he recieves yet another stiff knee to the midsection to stop his advances. He recieves yet another, causing him to grab at his stomach for protection. Sly sees an opportunity as he send a stiff kick to Jacob's midsection sending him down to one knee. He grabs at his opponents head and thrusts it between his thighs setting up Helmsley for the Earthquake. He waits a few seconds though to try and gather some strength before getting the move off. He finally locks his arms down and around before bringing Jacob up into a powerbomb position. Helmsley comes slamming down on his back one... two... two times? Austin wasn't able to complete the move as he comes crashing back into the ropes clinching his obviously hurt mid section. The referee checks on him to make sure he's okay, to which he recieves a resounding yes as Austin goes in for the pin. One! "This should be it!" Two! "It's got to be!" Thr... no! Kick out! "He kicked out at the last possible second! How does this man keep going? He's taken punishment this entire match but he refuses to go down!" Cyclone comments throughout the near fall. Austin rolls off of Jacob and into the corner. He's obviously frustrated as he grasps at his hair. He pulls himself up and starts yelling at the referee, telling him how he counted slow, how it really was a three count and he should've won the match right there. The referee defends his stance, but Austin keeps yelling at him anyways as Jacob climbs back to his feet. This is a golden opportunity for Helmsley as he sees Austin leaning in the corner, distracted, and hurt. Helmsley comes charging in for a splash, but he's met with a surprise as Austin quickly pulls the referee in front of him to absorb the impact. Helmsley bounces off the two stunned as the referee goes down hard. Sly seizes the opportunity though as he jumps to the rope and hits a spring board spinning heel kick, which sends Helmsley to the mat. Austin quickly looks around the ring for anything and everything he could get his hands on to use as a weapon. The only thing he spots though, is Jacob's trench coat that he wore to the ring with steel pipe inside. He lurches his way over to the coat, and removes the steel pipe. "What's he want with that pipe? This isn't a no DQ match!" shouts Comet. "I think he wants to win. I think THAT'S what he wants with that pipe, Cyclone." squils Riley. Jacob spends this time pulling himself back to his feet though. As he turns around, he sees one thing... Austin playing with his coat. He comes running over to stop this but BAM! The steel pipe goes crashing across the forehead of its owner, knocking Helmsley back to the ground with a heavy thud! "Now that's what I'm talking about! Get up you stupid bastard!" screams Austin. "Come on, let me take another swing!" Helmsley pulls himself back up with the ropes again. He seems dazed as he tries to stand, his eyes are still locked on Austin though. He comes staggering out of the corner with one hand on his head and one outstretched towards Austin. BAM! He's sent back to the mat with another vicious shot from the steel pipe. Blood now trickles from Helmsley's forehead, but the man still doesn't stay down for long. He drags himself back up to his hands and knees, using the ropes to pull himself up further. "Why wont you stay down? What do I have to do to you?" Jacob leans on the ropes, bleeding, barely able to stand. Austin comes in and grabs his hair up in his left hand and starts pounding away at his forehead with his right hand, opening up his wound even further. Jacob slumps down further the more he bleeds, and is now leaning firmly on the second rope. Austin backs away... trying to recollect his thoughts and kicking the steel pipe clear of the mat. He returns to Jacob's coat and removes the belt-like strap that wraps around the body of the coat. Helmsley, meanwhile, manages to pull himself back to his feet, as he stumbles in toward the center of the ring. Austin stalks his opponent... waiting... then wrapping the belt around Helmsley's throat and pulling him into his body in a choke hold. Austin shoves his knee hard into Helmsley's back and leans away from the man applying even more pressure to his throat. Jacob reaches up to his throat trying to fight his way free of whatever is blocking his breathing passage, but to no avail as he falls to one knee, slowly having the air drained from his lungs... and eventually blacking out. Austin throws the belt clear of the ring as the referee starts to come back to. Sly runs over to him and actually drags him to beside Helmsley before he puts his foot on Jacob's chest and yells at him to count. One! ... Two! ... Three! "Somebody get some help out here! We have a man down!" shouts Cyclone at the top of his lungs. "We need some help!" Austin once again clutches at his midsection as he drops down to one knee before rolling out of the ring and making his way back up the ramp. Austin turns back around to face the ring as he clinches at his stomach with his left hand and extends his right arm up in a show of victory, a sick look of joy upon his face. A couple of road workers come running down the ramp beside him rushing to the ring. Helmsley tries to sit up as he grabs at his head, groggy. "What a way to start out Storm!" (cut to commercial)

Earlier today, before Storm goes on the air, a camera tracks a limo pulling up in the parking garage behind the Joe Louis Arena. The door opens as the limo comes to a stop, and Duran comes out, followed by the remaining members of the Unnamed, including James Matheson (although his appearances have been rare as of late). Duran walks towards the backstage area with his stable in tow, when referee Anthony Michael Hall runs up to Duran. "John!" Hall yells to the stable leader, and Duran comes to a halt. "What is it?" Duran asks, annoyed and wondering what could be going on now. "The word just came from Commissioner Zenon. You'll be facing Charlie Matthews for the SWF Title at Battleground." A smile crawls across Duran's face and the other Unnamed members smirk as well. "Thanks, Anthony." The Unnamed walk past Anthony Michael Hall, and the referee looks back at the group as the camera fades to black, the cue to open Storm.

Ahahah. I'm back, bitches.

I'm saddened you didn't ask me this first, King. I feel like our relationship is breaking apart. Is it me?

You're a freak, dude.

The problem with Tekken 4 is that it's Jin, and then everybody else.

So, Karl Marx was a whiny scrub because he was against capitalists exploiting the "proletariat?" He wasn't a scrub because he did something about it. The whiny bitches did not come up with a counter-strategy until it was too late, and Richard Hatch won.

And as long as I'm posting, I'd like to apologize for being nice to AndrewTS. I forgot who he was. Sorry.

... Don't feed the trolls. I'm not sure what you mean by that comment but I can safely say I'm not a troll. Please find one message I've ever created on this board that would give you that impression. I've played a lot of games and have beaten a lot of the legendary tough games out there so I'm just not a newbie coming in here looking for trouble. I've played several fighting games and it's a common occurance for moves to not work even when you press the buttons in the right order. I've seen it happen to other people too and it is a reason why fighting games aren't as popular as they could be. Okay, a couple things. Beating a fighting game, in general, means jack all, as the computer is the easiest opponent ever. And could you provide an example of what you mean by moves not coming out? I mean a specific example. I find it hard to believe that you're actually doing the move right, otherwise the move, would in fact, come out.

My friend yelled something like that while I was playing Soul Calibur II. My response was "What the f*** did you just say?" Which one of those is the Guard botton? Sounds like a Ivy combo to me. 1, 2, 3, and 4 is Tekken. 1 = Left punch, 2 = right punch, 3 = left kick, 4 = right kick. Soul Calibur uses A, B, K, and G. Often, you'll see Japanese joystick notation for Soul Calibur 2. Look at your numeric keypad on your keyboard; that should explain it. 6 = right, 8 = up, etc.