Edwin MacPhisto

“Welcome back to Storm, good citizens,” says an enthusiastic Cyclone Comet. “We’re just about ready for the match between Wildchild and John Duran, in which Wildchild’s Hardcore Title will be on the line! And Bobby, these two men have developed a fairly healthy dislike for each other!” Bobby Riley nods his head in agreement. “They have indeed, Comet. Wildchild cost Duran a shot at the World Heavyweight Title by interfering in the Triple Threat between Duran, Quiz and Ejiro, and hitting him in the face with a steel chair! Duran demanded a match against Wildchild, which the Suicide King made for tonight, but as we saw on Smarkdown, Duran wasn’t exactly in a waiting mood!” << Flashback to 08 Sep Smarkdown>> The Bahama Bomber pulls Xcalibur to his feet and stands in front of him, hooking his arms underneath the challengers. Before he can begin to spin around, however, Duran leaps onto the ring apron, grabbing his attention. Distracted, Wildchild releases Xcalibur and walks over towards the edge of the ring, where he confronts Duran. The two exchange words, and The Sinner pushes Wildchild away from him with both hands. The Tropical Tumbler charges towards him in retaliation, swinging his arm wildly, but Duran leans backwards out of his range. Wildchild’s fist whiffs through the air, and his momentum causes him to spin around, allowing Duran to grab him from behind and trap him in a full nelson. Comet (VO): That scoundrel Duran involved himself in Wildchild’s title defense against Xcalibur, in an attempt to cost him the Hardcore Title! Picking the chair up off the canvas, Xcalibur races towards the edge of the ring, swinging wildly to obliterate the Hardcore Champion… CRACK! … But the Bahama Bomber wriggles free of Duran’s grip and dives out of the way at the last possible second, causing Xcalibur to smash The Sinner in the face with the chair, sending him tumbling off the ring apron and to the floor below! Comet (VO): But his insidious plan backfired, as Xcalibur hit him instead… Dropping the chair on the canvas in alarm, Xcalibur fails to notice Wildchild as he scrambles to his feet and races towards the corner, leaping onto the top turnbuckle… BANG! … And springing back off, diving towards Xcalibur’s head and snaring him in a front facelock as he spins around, driving the challenger’s face into the discarded steel chair with a jaw-dropping Jump Swinging DDT! Comet (VO): Giving Wildchild the opportunity he needed to put Xcalibur away, and successfully his title! Wildchild rolls over Xcalibur’s body and hooks the leg as the referee dives into position to assess the pinfall: ONE! TWO! THREEEEEEE! DING! DING! DING! << End Flashback >> “But tonight, Citizen Riley, Duran has his own shot to defeat Wildchild in one-on-one competition!” Comet turns towards the camera. “Duran has chance to not only exact revenge against Wildchild, but he can also win his first title in the SWF!” “Duran mostly wants to get back at Wildchild for costing him his title shot,” adds Riley, “but if he can take his belt in the process, that would really rub his nose in it!” Comet nods. “And I can’t help but be concerned by the footage we just saw of earlier tonight, when Ejiro was apparently giving pointers to John Duran about how best to fight Wildchild!” “I don’t think that it has anything to do with Duran specifically,” replies Riley. “Ejiro hates the fact that Wildchild has the Hardcore title, and he’s willing to help anybody take that belt off of him!” Funyon stands in the center of the ring, where he raises the microphone to his lips as he prepares to speak. “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the SWF Hardcore Championship!” The Rupp Arena begins to echo with a cacophony of boos as Drowning Pool’s “Sinner” begins to play. Duran steps out from behind the curtain and walks deliberately down the ramp, using both hands to pull his hair back. Upon reaching the ringside area, he ducks down underneath the apron and pulls out a garbage can and a couple of steel chairs, heaving all of them over the top rope into the ring. Nonplussed, Funyon continues his introductions. “Introducing first, the Challenger! From Champaign, Illinois, weighing two hundred sixty-five pounds, The Sinner, JOOOOOOOHN DURAAAAAAAAN!” Duran turns to face the ramp and straightens out his t-shirt as he flexes his arms, anxiously awaiting his opponent. Grabbing onto the middle rope, he pulls himself onto the ring apron, and then uses the top rope to support himself as he stands up. Turning to face the crowd, Duran responds to their boos by extending his middle finger and loudly screaming “GO TO HELL!” “Duran really looks pumped for this match,” remarks Riley. “I think the Hardcore Title’s going to change hands tonight! “I wouldn’t consider that a foregone conclusion, Citizen Riley,” replies Comet, “But Wildchild’s definitely going to have to bring it, if he wants to retain his title!” “Sinner” fades out and is quickly replaced by Biohazard’s “Sellout.” For the first time in SWF history, the fans come to their feet at the sound of that song, cheering in anticipation of the arrival of Wildchild. “What an amazing crowd reaction,” says Riley. “I always knew these people would learn to appreciate the wrestling brilliance of Ejiro!” Comet glances at his broadcast partner with a bemused expression. “I don’t think that they’re cheering for Ejiro…” “His opponent,” continues Funyon, “from Morgan’s Bluff, in the Bahamas, weighing two hundred fourteen pounds, the SWF Hardcore Champion, the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!” Duran drops into a fighting stance, practically shaking with anticipation as he waits to assault the Hardcore Champion. “So,” wonders Riley aloud, “where is he?” Suddenly, the crowd begins cheering even louder, as the Bahama Bomber races from out in the crowd down to the ring, climbing up onto the ring apron behind Duran, and discarding his title as he leaps onto the top rope! “Duran,” shouts Riley, “turn around! He’s right behind you!” With the greatest of ease, Wildchild springs off the top rope and lands in a seated position on Duran’s shoulders. Spinning around to face The Sinner, he locks his legs behind Duran’s head as he arches back, taking him over with a beautiful rana! DING! DING! DING! The referee orders the timekeeper to ring the bell, signifying the start of the match. Wildchild beats Duran to his feet and races to the ropes as The Sinner stands up, leaping into the air and whipping his leg around sharply, blasting Duran underneath the chin with a leg lariat that sends him over the top rope and tumbling to the outside! Wildchild bounces to his feet, raising his arms in the air as the exuberant crowd cheers ever louder. “It looks as if Wildchild is pumped up for this match as well, Citizen Riley,” exclaims Comet. “Duran may not get the opportunity to implement his strategy!” SPLASH! Wildchild races again to the ropes as Duran struggles to get to his feet outside the ring, leaping high into the air as he dashes back across the ring and somersaulting over the top rope, crashing into The Sinner with a breathtaking Tope Con Hilo! The boisterous crowd voices their approval as the Bahama Bomber assumes a mounted position atop Duran and batters his face with a barrage of right hands! “Wildchild is giving it his all in this match,” says Comet. “He’s not going to give up that belt without a fight!” Wildchild stands up and walks towards the ring, reaching down underneath the ring apron to retrieve a ladder! He lifts it off the ground as Duran gets to his feet, holding it in front of him as he rushes headlong towards the challenger… CRUNCH! … But The Sinner quickly raises his leg up, kicking the ladder back into Wildchild’s face, and knocking him to the ground! A hush falls over the crowd as Duran walks over to the Wildchild, lifting the ladder up into the air… WHACK! … And smashing it back down into Wildchild’s chest! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! “Wildchild went for the knockout blow a little too prematurely,” says Riley, “and now he’s paying for it! Duran’s firmly in control of this match right now!” As the crowd boos Duran’s heinous actions, their boos become even louder as Ejiro Fasaki begins to make his way down the ramp. With an approving nod to Duran, Ejiro proceeds to walk around the ring towards the announcers table, as Duran grabs a length of video cable from the ground and wraps it around Wildchild’s throat, choking him out with it! “Holy asphyxiation,” exclaims Comet. “John Duran is choking the life out of Wildchild with that cable!” “Enough about Wildchild,” says Riley. “We’ve got more important things to talk about, now that we’re about to be joined by United States Champion, Ejiro Fasaki! Champ, thanks for taking the time to join us at ringside again!” Ejiro adjusts his headset and takes a seat next to Riley. “You’re quite welcome, Robert! You know, I’ve come to realize that the only attractive people in the entire state of Kentucky are the ones who are passing through! I mean, the woman running the buffet in the back… she could have stopped the face on a clock! And speaking of the buffet, if it weren’t for Wildchild, I wouldn’t have to have gone and serve myself; I sent him to get my supper, and the next time I see him, he’s out here wrestling!” Bobby raises his eyebrows. “You mean, you don’t know that he…” Comet quickly interrupts him “… Is very much looking forward to seeing who takes you up on this offer! And tell me, Citizen Ejiro, what compelled you to issue such a challenge?” Meanwhile, on the other side of the ring, Wildchild reaches up desperately to rake Duran in the eyes, causing him to release his grip around the Champion’s throat. Wildchild crawls away to safety, gasping desperately for air as Duran shakes his head to recover his vision. Ejiro turns towards Comet to respond. “Well, quite frankly, I’ve become bored by the lack of competition for this title; I need a challenge. And I’m even willing to offer Wildchild’s freedom in exchange for a worthy opponent.” Wildchild uses the steel stairs to prop himself up as Duran finally clears his vision and turns his attention towards his opponent. Furious, The Sinner charges towards Wildchild, lowering his head to deliver a crushing spear into the stairs… CLANG! … But the Bahama Bomber leaps into the air at the last minute, causing Duran to dart underneath him, and crash head-first into the steel steps, dislodging them! Reaching into the ring, Wildchild grabs a nearby chair and raises it above his head, eliciting cheers from the crowd. The Bahama Bomber rushes at Duran as he struggles to his feet… WHACK! … and bashes him in the face with a running chair shot! “I’ve just about had it with Wildchild,” says Ejiro with a look of disgust. “Every time it seems as though I’m getting through to him, he reverts to his high-risk, suicida style. I’ve wasted so much of my valuable time with him, that I’m just about ready to wash my hands of the whole thing!” Wildchild once again holds the chair aloft with both hands and charges towards Duran, preparing to waffle him with another chair shot… WHAM! … But The Sinner surprises the Hardcore Champion, scooping him up into the air and spinning him around suddenly, driving him into the padded arena floor with a powerslam!” “Powerslam,” shouts Riley, as Duran locks his hands together in an attempt to cover. “That might do it!” ONE! TWO! THREE— NO! Wildchild barely gets the shoulder up! “That powerslam was nearly enough to end the contest,” says Comet, “but Wildchild was just able to reach down and find enough left to kick out!” As Wildchild lay unmoving on the floor, The Sinner bends down to grasp the floor padding with both hands, ripping it away from the concrete floor. “If Duran put him through that concrete,” says Riley, “he’s not going to be reaching down to find anything!” Ejiro shrugs indifferently. “C’est le vie. Wildchild brought this upon himself. All he had to do was listen to me…” Duran drags Wildchild to his feet and traps him in a standing headscissors. Looking out to the crowd, The Sinner scowls as he screams out, “Say goodbye to your little hero!” “Holy implants,” shrieks Comet. “He’s going to try to hit the Ultimate Sin out on the concrete!” “If he hits this,” adds Riley, “Wildchild’s going to be looking for work as Christopher Reeve’s stunt double!” Duran wraps his arms around Wildchild’s waist and lifts him over his shoulder. He positions his hands underneath Wildchild’s underarms and lifts him into the air, but the Bahama Bomber struggles desperately, flailing his legs about until he can wriggle out of Duran’s grasp, and drops down to the arena floor. “He escaped,” says a relieved Comet. “He must have the flexibility of Mister Fantastic to free himself from such a predicament!” Duran wheels around to try to regain his advantage, and extends his arm to level Wildchild with a clothesline, but the Bahama Bomber ducks underneath it. He quickly repositions himself as The Sinner turns back around, and thrusts his leg through the air, drilling him underneath the chin with a shuffling sidekick! As Duran staggers backwards, Wildchild presses his attack, kicking him in the stomach to double him over and swiftly spinning around, locking his arms underneath Duran’s and leaping into the air before The Sinner can react… BANG! … Driving his head into the concrete with his patented Wild-Driver! “Wild-Driver,” exclaims Comet. “Wild-Driver into the concrete!” “My God,” shrieks Riley. “I think Duran may be out!” Wildchild rolls Duran over onto his back and lies atop him as the referee counts the pinfall… ONE! TWO! THREE! DING! DING! DING! The crowd erupts as “Sellout” rings out through the Rupp Arena. “The referee runs around the ring to retrieve the Hardcore Title from Funyon as the announcer rises from his ringside seat. “Here is your winner, in four minutes and fifty-five seconds, … and STILL SWF Hardcore Champion… the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!” Wildchild pulls himself to his feet and slides into the ring. He walks across the ring to retrieves his title from the referee and climbs onto the turnbuckle, holding his title high above his head as Duran continues to lay unconscious outside the ring. “Well,” reflects Comet, “it looks as if Duran is going to have to wait a little longer to get his revenge against Wildchild. Folks, stick around; we’ll be right back with more great SWF action!” As we: FADE OUT

“OHHHHHHHHH SAYYYYYYYYY CANNNNNNNN YOU SEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE~!” “Oh goodie,” deadpans the usually boisterous Cyclone Comet, “it is none other than the United States Champion. Doesn’t he have somewhere else to be today? I know he’s not on the format.” “You sound disappointed that we actually get to see a man of his talents,” counters Bobby Riley from his seat at ringside. “I am completely stoked whenever we get graced by the presence of any member of The Magnificent Seven.” Wandering out through the ring curtain without his usual smile on his face, Ejiro Fasaki power walks down to the ring as his official flag bearer Wildchild comes following him to the ring. Wearing a similar expression as Ejiro, The Human Hurricane holds the American Flag at a respectable if not exuberant height as he enters the ring behind the huffy United States Champion. Not having a match tonight, Ejiro dresses sharply in a well-pressed pair of khaki pants as well as a Magnificent Seven monogrammed golf shirt. And, as always, he is ever the more willing to display his wares to the booing crowd as he climbs up to the middle ropes and lifts his title belt high into the air. “FU FASAKI! FU FASAKI! FU FASAKI! FU FASAKI! FU FASAKI!” Taking a moment to recognize Wildchild and the flag, Fasaki sends a military style salute at the stars and stripes just as the final tunes of The Star Spangles Banner fade into the out reaches of the arena. Pulling a microphone out of his pocket much to the dismay of the cheering populace, Ejiro takes a moment to lay the United States title down across the mat at his feet. Looking out to the people both behind him and before him, Ejiro Fasaki turns face on into the camera as the crowd continues to buzz with their hatred for the puny, annoying Rule. Finally Ejiro begins to speak into the stick, “You know you think after all I have done after all I proved to the wrestling world and to you people as well, that I would be granted a little bit of respect. You would think that everyone that could see what I could do would take advantage of the situation. To strike when the iron is hot! That they would want to make their marks on me but as I stand before you I don’t see that. I don’t see the next generation of wrestlers eager and in my face trying to become what I already am.” “What the hell is he talking about, Citizen Riley?” interjects The Cyclone Comet as Ejiro takes a breath to allow his words to wash over the crowd. “I think he is going to tell us Comet,” replies Bobby as Ejiro wanders to the other side of the ring. Ejiro continues, “But as I walk through the halls here in the SWF there is no one who seemingly wants to take that next step. No one wants to work the path through me in order to be taken seriously as a contender. And quite frankly that makes me sick to my stomach! That a bunch of second rate punks want no parts of being a champion in this company just makes me ill. Where are the people lining up to take their shot at holding some gold in this company? Why do I stand here with a microphone while no one comes out to say to me, ‘Ejiro I want your strap’? I’ll tell you why. Because they know they can’t beat me. Because they know that if they got in a ring with me that there would only be one way they could get out of here and that is on their backs like a cheap Nebraska ho to her cousin with the most teeth!” “FU FASAKI! FU FASAKI! FU FASAKI! FU FASAKI! FU FASAKI!” Fasaki breaks into his first smile, “So it came to me the other day that the wrestlers of today’s day and age just don’t see titles the same way I do. They don’t see a championship and think about how great an honor it would be to have that title. They would rather sell their merchandise and get a movie deal sometime down the road. So a fact is obvious to me and would be obvious to all of you if you went to school for more than a week and a half. That as of right now, just taking the United States title is not a clear enough incentive for the guys in the back to get out here and fight me. I have to make things a little more interesting to get these punks motivated. Because unless I can get some actual challengers, my reign as United States champion will be forgotten just as quickly as everyone else’s and that is simply not acceptable. Because I am the greatest man to ever hold onto this thing. Because I make titles worth winning again… just look what I did for the tag straps if you don’t believe me. Because I am better than YOU and I can PROVE it.” “He does have a point there,” giggles Riley as the crowd takes the opportunity to boo Fasaki’s catchphrase. “The only point Citizen Fasaki has is on the point of his head,” replies The Cyclone Comet. “Why doesn’t he make the challenge to someone if he wants to defend that belt so badly.” “So it comes to this,” Ejiro rambles, “it comes to the point where I have to entice you bastards to do something you should already be doing like a damn band leader. But if I have to make the idea of challenging me more palatable I will. So as of this moment, I want everyone in the world from the SWF to the SJL that I will refuse no challenge. That I will face anyone who wants to face me. And should they manage by some freak of nature, not only will they win the United States championship…they can have Wildchild too!” “WHAT!” calls out The Comet in outrage, “Is Wildchild a door prize now? I didn’t know he could be traded like stock?” With Wildchild himself somewhat shocked by the declaration, Ejiro saunters up to the Bahamas Bomber and speaks again. “That is right Wildchild! So I want you to get on the phone to every friend you have! Make sure each and every one of them knows that I am only one loss away from letting you out of our little agreement and letting you back to your own devices. Because I am letting every enemy you have know the same. This could either free you up or make your more miserable than even I can make it.” “He’s right,” mutters Bobby, “this can either break Wildchild free or make things even worse for him!” Fasaki continues, “So all the challengers in the world, make your play! This titles… that man… they are both on the line! Bring the noise because … I … want … you!” “What a challenge by the champion to… everyone I guess,” calls out The Comet, “We will be right back with more action!”

The camera cuts backstage to a hallway just as “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens and the SWF World Champion, The Boston Strangler come around the corner. TBS: Well Slammer, it is good to have you back. Some of the boys really missed having you around. GSMS: I appreciate that Strangler. And let me tell you, it is good to be back. I missed this. TBS: You set for King at G4? He’s going to pull every dirty trick in the book. We both know that. GSMS: Goodness knows if anyone knows that I do. I’m getting there. It’s been a while since I’ve been in the ring, even just to train guys. Hopefully, the rust won’t show too badly. TBS: Nah. It’s like riding a bike. Hey man, if you need a workout session in the ring, me, Dace and Va’aiga were going to get together over the weekend. You game. GSMS (smiling): I’ll see what my wife has planned. I think tomorrow might be planned already… we’ll see. I’ll call you. TBS: Cool, you’ve got my number. GSMS: Hey… good luck with Tom tonight. TBS: Thanks man, I’m going to need it. You got any pointers? I mean, you have been watching him from ringside a huge chunk of the time… GSMS: Yeah, I’ve noticed a couple of things. Or example… The ringing of a cell phone cuts off Grand Slam’s advice. Immediately both men check their phones. GSMS: That’s mine. (Examining the caller ID) And it’s Lynn. I need to take this. TBS: No problem Slammer. I’ll catch up with you after the show, we’ll toss back a couple of brews… sound good? GSMS: That a plan I can get behind. See ya. Strangler walks out of camera range around a corner, off to the locker room to get ready for his match. Grand Slam leans up against the stone wall of the arena and flips open the phone. GSMS: Hey Lynn… what’s up? … No I have no idea who it is. … He’s called the cell three times today. First time I was in the airport and … well in no position to answer. Then again at lunch, but there were a bunch of kids I was signing autographs for. Sarah tried to grab it, but didn’t catch it in time. Then just a few minutes ago, right after I left Thugg. These stupid arenas… I could have gotten it, but I lost the signal. … How many times? … He’s called the house nine times? … No Lynn, I have no idea. … Probably just a fan got the number and is trying to get a picture or some nonsense. … Nope, no caller ID, keeps coming up private. It's probably just King or one of his lackeys pulling something okay? Don't worry about it… How’s Chris? As Grad Slam listens to his wife talking about their toddler son, he steps out from the wall and starts to pace back and forth. GSMS: His second word was “heel”? Good grief… (laughing) … As he turns his back to the hallway behind him, a huge monster of a man charges down the hallway like a guided missile. Grand Slam hears something behind him and starts to turn, but it’s too late! As the attacker gets close, he drops his shoulder and goes very low, chop blocking Grand Slam’s left leg out from under him!! The Heavy Hitter falls back and drops the phone. It hits the concrete floor and skitters down the hall. Lynn’s voice can still be heard asking, “Mark? Are you OK? Mark?!?” Grand Slam hits the concrete hard and reaches down with both hands grasping his left knee in agony. His attacker comes to a stop, stands and spins around, ready to continue to assault. Grand Slam looks up at him and yells. GSMS: Bastion!! What the Hell are you doing?? With murder in his eyes, the massive man known only as Bastion doesn’t utter a sound as he steps forward and drives a kick into the stomach of the Heavy Hitter! Grand Slam bends in half and lets out a yell. Bastion looks pleased with his handiwork and takes a step back, lining up his massive right foot for a stomp right onto Grand Slam’s already hurting left knee. But just as he starts to bring the foot down, the former World Champion swings out his feet, putting one on either side of Bastion’s left foot and twists… sending him down face first into the concrete with a drop toe hold!! While Bastion is down, Grand Slam scrambles to his feet and turns to face Bastion, limping a little on his left leg. GSMS: Don’t do this Bastion! Jesus Christ! Lynn’s voice is almost hysterical on the phone as Grand Slam limps over to try and pick it up. But Bastion isn’t done. In fact as Grand Slam turns away, he pushes himself to his feet. There is a little blood running out of his nose and down onto his lip. With a sneer he licks it off and takes a breath, pure rage clouding his face. He steps forward, one hand drawn back to club the Heavy Hitter across the back, but the cagey veteran is too smart and too fast for him. Without missing a stride, Grand Slam plants his right foot and spins, bringing his left toe up and into the midsection of Bastion, surprising him and doubling him over momentarily. With speed born of years and years of practice, the Heavy Hitter grabs Bastion by the cornrows and pulls him into a standing head-scissor! The crowds, watching all of this unfold on the Smarktron, starts to cheer as Grand Slam underhooks Bastion’s arms! As Stevens starts to pull, readying himself to jump back and drive his enemy face-first onto the concrete floor with the deadly Walk-Off, Bastion’s back muscles bunch. With prodigious strength, he stands up with Grand Slam still maintaining the scissor-lock on him! Once the nearly 300 pound Heavy Hitter is vertical, Bastion throws his feet out from under him and drops back, sending Stevens into the concrete hard! Grand Slam’s grip dissolves and Bastion stands. There is nothing but anger on his face as he turns to regard his former teacher. Grand Slam is on his back on the floor, gasping for breath and trying push himself up. Without mercy, Bastion steps forward and stomps down hard on Grand Slam’s chest! Lynn can be heard, still on the phone, screaming for Bastion to stop! (Ah, the wonders of live television). But he does not. Boot after boot goes into Grand Slam, spreading around the pain from his chest to his abdomen to his legs. When he stomps onto his left knee, Grand Slam reacts violently, pulling away and trying to protect his vulnerable spot. With a small, sadistic grin, Bastion focuses his attacks on the left knee of the Heavy Hitter. After a few kicks and stomps, he reaches down and grabs Grand Slam’s right foot. But Mark Stevens isn’t quite finished. With a defiant yell he sends a hard right foot into Bastion’s face. Bastion responds by spitting onto the floor and twisting the foot of Grand Slam!! With Lynn able to hear every sound, Bastion torques the left knee of the Heavy Hitter over and over. Finally, bored with this particular tactic, he drops the foot and looks around. On the floor, Grand Slam clutches at his knee and lets out animalistic noises of sheer agony. Bastion looks around until he sees a door near at hand. He wrenches open the door and looks around in what appears to be a supply closet. As the fans in the arena react in horror and Lynn Stevens continues her long distance pleading, Bastion pulls out a metal mop handle. He turns to Grand Slam and, without any warning or windup, brings the handle down hard onto the Heavy Hitter’s left knee. Then again… and again… and again… over and over the vicious Bastion clubs Grand Slam’s knee into jelly. On the phone, Lynn is sobbing, pleading with Bastion to stop. Satisfied with what he has done to the now quiet and writhing Stevens and annoyed by the tinny sounding wail, he walks over to the phone and steps on it, smashing it into little pieces. Bastion pulls back the now bowed mop handle again and begins to bring it down towards Grand Slam’s head… but is stopped in mid swing!! Bastion spins around and is greeted by the sight of the World Champion clutching the end of the mop!! Bastion steps back and puts out his hands, ready for a charge by Strangler. And TBS intends to oblige him, but is suddenly held back by a gaggle of officials and security. A few of them go to restrain Bastion while one ref stoops to check on Grand Slam. He immediately signals for a medic!! TBS: What the hell is this all about?!? What the f*ck do you think you’re doing?!? Bastion does not reply, he just stares at Strangler with anger in his eyes, simmering just below the surface. Suddenly another voice booms down the hallway. Thugg: What the f*ck happened here? TBS: Your boy there just took out your partner. Thugg (calmly): Bastion, you shouldn’t have done that. Come on, let’s go. As the officials and TBS look on with amazed looks, Bastion complies and moves to the side of Thugg’s wheelchair. TBS: That’s it? That’s all you are going to say? Thugg: This is a family matter. I’ll deal with it my… GSMS (screaming): Thugg!!! Goddammit!! I told you he was dangerous! Where the hell were you, you son of a bitch?!? Thugg: This shouldn’t have happened. I’ll talk to him. GSMS: F*ck talking!! Get him the f*ck out of here! He’s fired! Thugg: No, he isn’t. Let’s go. GSMS: What did you say? He’s not fired! The hell he isn’t! I want him out of the f*cking building right goddammn now!! Thugg: Mark, you’re hurtin’. You ain’t rational. You’ll calm down about this. GSMS: Bullshit!! I have put up with a lot of shit from a lot of people, but this is beyond the f*cking pale Thugg! That f*cktard just f*cking broke my knee!! My goddamn bad knee! He knew it, and he went after it!! Lynn was on the phone Thugg! She heard everything!! That son of a bitch is lucky I don’t have him f*cking arrested!! Thugg (looks over his shoulder at Bastion): Bro, did you know about his knee when you attacked? (Bastion shakes his head no.) There. I believe him. We’ll deal with this later. Go back to the locker room Bastion. The hulking Bastion stalks down the hall away from the scene of the attack. About that time the medical team comes tearing around the corner and charges past Thugg to get to Grand Slam. Strangler helps them set up the stretcher and get the 6’6 Grand Slam lifted onto it. As the EMT’s put a temporary leg brace on his knee, Grand Slam looks at Strangler. GSMS: Strangler, call Lynn and tell her I’m OK. Tell her to calm down and make sure that the insurance is in order. Strangler: You got it Slammer. As Strangler moves past Thugg on his way out, he looks at the giant man in the wheelchair. Thugg looks older, and a little remorseful. TBS wonders about that a second, then takes off to get his phone. Thugg: You know I didn’t want this to happen, man. GSMS: Bullshit Thugg. You’re tickled pink this happened! Now it’s just Bastion and King at Genesis. Thugg: Mark… GSMS: F*ck off Thugg. I hope King puts Bastion in the hospital. Thugg: Don’t talk about family like that Mark… GSMS: Screw you! My family had to listen to that… that… maniac tear my knee apart! As they start to wheel Grand Slam out the door, Thugg pushes himself up to the side of the stretcher. Thugg: I’ll call you later… see how the knee is. GSMS: Don’t bother. The next time I hear from you will be at Lockdown… and that’s where we’ll finish this. Thugg: Finish what exactly? Neither of us gonna be in any shape to fight! GSMS: Not that. I want Bastion gone or you can say goodbye to our little rebellion. I’m outta here. Thugg: Man! You can’t do that! You can’t let King win! GSMS: Watch me. That brother of yours is a f*cking menace… and if you don’t get rid of him, I will. That is a mother-f*cking promise. The EMT’s wheel the stretcher out the door to a waiting ambulance. Thugg sits in his chair, anger on his face. Thugg (quietly): Damn cracker don’ understand shit about family. F*ck ‘em. Thugg turns his chair around and heads back the direction Bastion went. The camera moves slowly, rotating around the now deserted hallway. Well, deserted except for a dark corner where a man stands. Deliberately, he lights up a cigar. The flames light up the face of the Suicide King, smiling around his stogie. But back on the floor, as the hallway clears...a faint whirr rises up from the wreckage. A cracked cellphone blips once...twice...and then fizzles out. King puffs on his cigar, eyes glimmering. Tonight...is a beautiful night. Fade to black…

EARLIER TODAY: Wildchild trudges down the hallway of the Rupp Arena, holding a tray in front of him, containing Ejiro Fasaki’s supper. As he approaches Justice and Rule’s locker room, he prepares to walk in, when he hears voices from within: “There. And there, also.” “What exactly am I looking for?” A sigh. “Look, I’m trying to help you here. Do you want to win the Hardcore Title tonight, or not?” Wildchild’s eyebrows shoot to the tip of his hairline, as he realizes that the voices inside the locker room belong to Ejiro and John Duran. “But, how is this supposed to help me,” asks Duran. “I’m trying to point out something very basic in Wildchild’s strategy that you can exploit,” says Ejiro calmly. “Now, pay attention: As you can see in this video footage I’ve compiled for you, Wildchild’s speed is his greatest asset, but the real reason his speed is so dangerous is because of the ring ropes; he uses momentum to make his attacks virtually impossible to avoid.” “So how is this supposed to help me?” Another sigh. “This is a hardcore match, Jonathan; falls count anywhere. There’s no rule that says you have to beat him in the ring. You follow me?” Silence follows as Duran attempts to digest this information. Outside the locker room, Wildchild is shaking with anger. “Son of a bitch,” he mutters to himself. “Ah,” says Duran, “I’m with you; just keep him from getting in the ring, and he won’t be able to use his speed against me… but why are you helping me, anyway?” “Look,” replies Ejiro, “all you need to know is that I want the Hardcore Title off of Wildchild’s waist. I don’t really care who does it, but since you’re the guy on the docket tonight, it might as well be you.” “We’ll see about that,” Wildchild says to himself, and walks away briskly, tossing Ejiro’s dinner into a nearby trashcan. As we: FADE OUT

“Welcome back to SWF Storm! I’m Bobby Riley, here with Cyclone Comet, bringing you Kentuckians more action than you can cram into the backseat of a car with your sister.” “I, CYCLOOOOOOONE COMET, find it amusing that you of all people, think you can taunt somebody for their lifestyle.” Responds Comet, glaring at Bobby, “INJUSTICE!” he adds with emphasis. “The Rupp Arena, here in, Lexington, Kentucky,” Thumbs up, cheap pop from Comet, “is pumped for a clash of Marvel versus D.C. like proportions.” “Um… yeah.” says Riley, wondering what the hell his announce partner is talking about. “We’re nearing the end of our first hour and you SWF fans are in store for a serious contest. A World title tournament rematch between Mak Francis and Jamie Drazon! The SWF Intercontinental title is on the line and Jay Dawg, who is no stranger to that belt and looking to prove himself once again, was hand picked by our beloved—yes Comet, don’t look at me that way. Our beloved commissioner, the Suicide King, sent him to shut down this reign and prove that Francis just doesn’t deserve to be ICTV champ. Coming off of an early round loss to Quiz in the World Title tournament, King told Francis he doesn’t deserve the ICTV belt. “A title that was stripped and then reinstated by Thugg, right Riley.” “Yeah, yeah, but a non-title loss to Johnny Dangerous, clean, in the middle of the ring, proves that ‘the Franchise’ can’t step up to a challenge, which this is. And that he doesn’t deserve to beat the record setting reign of my hero and yours, Tom Flesher, who held the belt a prestigious 60 days. You have to wonder what that does to a persons’ confidence.” “Are you going to mention Super-citizen Francis’ win over Drazon?” asks Comet. “That’s why this is a rematch after all.” “I was just getting to it. Those losses, minus a lucky win over his opponent tonight Jamie Drazon, have lead to this match. The World title tournament rematch, ‘The Franchise’ Mak Francis versus Jamie ‘Jay Dawg’ Drazon, for the ICTV title!” “THIS IS MAH HOUSE!” As Rammstein's 'Du Haste' echoes through out the arena, letting everyone know about the arrival of Jamie Drazon. Jay Dawg, with his head lowered and bad intentions running through his mind, slowly stalks down towards ringside, where his opponent awaits. “And his opponent,” yells the ringside announcer, slash, snack treat, “Making his way to ringside, from Vancouver, British Columbia, weighing in at TWO hundred and FOURTY-THREE pounds… ‘The Hardcore Maniac’… JAMIE ‘JAY DAWG’ DRAZON!” The crowd, once again giving Drazon a surprisingly mixed reaction, mostly on the positive side, continues to cheer, as JD hits the ring! He slides underneath the bottom cable and pops up to his feet, quickly cracking his neck, as Long checks for hidden weapons! “Jay Dawg looks pumped and primed to kick some ass! And I’m sure King is pleased to see that!” Comet goes to speak when suddenly— So do you wanna’ be a Franchise… And live large… A big house… five cars… “And his OPPONENT!” shouts Funyon, as the wispy sounds of a digital xylophone echo throughout the arena; a deep background beat, cleverly created by violins, and slightly overshadowing the original background rhythm. As the opening lyrics from Mak Francis’ Rock Superstar remix continue to blare over the PA system, the crowd bursts out of their seats, in recognition of the all too familiar music! The rent charge… Comin’ up in the world, don’t trust nobody… Gotta’ look over your shoulder constantly! The SmarkTron flares up with a blue and white photonegative image of Mak Francis, which is followed by ‘The Franchise’ in large green lettering, flashing on the screen in time with the beat, interspersed with signature spots and clips of Francis’ trademark smirking pose. Funyon takes a breath, “From Philadelphia, Pennsylvania,” the crowd pops, “weighing in at TWO hundred and THIRTY-SIX POUNDS… the REIGNING, S-W-F, INTERCONTINENTAL TELEVISION CHAMPION…‘The Franchise’… MAAAAAAAAAK FRANCISsssssss!” After taking a few steps out and down the ramp, Mak tilts his shades down on the bridge of his nose, not even soaking up the crowds’ reaction like normal… I remember the days, when I was a young kid grownin’ up… Lookin’ in the mirror dreamin’ about blowin’ up! *PWI-SHEW! PWI-SHEW! PWI-SHEW! PWI-SHEEEEEEW!!* He readjusts his shades noticeably without a smirk, before slowly strolling down to ringside and after walking up the ring steps, he wipes his feet on the apron, before entering through the middle ropes. Mak climbs the nearest turnbuckle and poses, as a wave of flashing lights go off. He steps down, and un straps the title belt, handing it over to Eddy Long, who raises it into the air, to a loud pop, before giving it to a ringside attendant. *DING! DING! DING!* Jay Dawg and Mak circle feeling each other out. “If you’re Mak Francis what are you trying to do here?” Mak feigns a takedown, but JD doesn’t take the bait. “Well Citizen Bobby, Francis seems shell shocked by the loss to Johnny Dangerous, so he needs to finish this match as quickly as possible and hope he can get a flash win, because Jay Dawg is very angry and very ready to prolong this match, while pounding him into submission.” Then the self proclaimed Franchise and his opponent meet center ring, clashing in a collar and elbow tie-up. As they jockey for position, Francis, using his amateur skills to his advantage, does something of a rope-a-dope. Mak shifts backwards, allowing Drazon to press his advantage and then swats his larger opponents’ wrist to the left – successfully breaking the grapple. The self proclaimed Franchise quickly slides into a side headlock, grinding it in to maintain control. JD attempts to break Mak’s tight grip, pushing on the Franchise’s clasped fingers, but Francis can tell that he will be unable to restrain Jay Dawg for much longer and he snaps the Hardcore Maniac over with a side headlock takedown. JD quickly reaches with his legs, but Mak fends away his attempts at a takedown. Finally after a little repositioning, Drazon is able to lace his legs around Mak’s neck, pulling him down in a headscissors. “The beginning to this match up is very similar to their first match-up… with both guys feeling each other out on the mat. Not a smart move by Francis.” “Hey, you actually sounded competent.” notes Riley, as the Franchise kips-up once, twice and escapes the hold, landing back on the mat! “When the hell did you decide to say something smarter than INJUSTICE!” he adds, Francis rolls away from Jay Dawg and slowly gets up to his feet, as JD does the same. This time there is little circling, as Mak charges forward crashing togther with JD once again. The two men stress and strain, but JD rotates out of the tie-up, whipping Mak to the mat on his bottom. “Judo arm drag by JD, who is looking to go into a more shoot fight strong style than amateur matwork. You could say that this is a great example of Strong style vs. Amateur matwork, as JD slides into a keylock… I guess…” Riley looks to Comet, who is nodding his head. “Yes Bobby, that keylock allows him to control the action a little better as last time Citizen Dawg tried an armbar and crossface combo, only to get an elbow to the head.” Bobby shakes his head. “I was missing Stevens last time, but come on now, Cyclone Comet doing my job for me… that’s just ridiculous!” ”Well fiend, if you did your homework, I might not have to do your job too.” Francis is stuck in the keylock but his amateur roots take hold and he transitions into a hammerlock! JD not to be out done pushes himself off the mat. Once he gets to his feet he flows into a hammerlock of his own, in a standing switch of sorts. He releases the hold and grabs a side headlock! Drazon snitches in the headlock, but Mak backs them both into the ropes and shoots him off. “Jay Dawg continues to keep this match slow and steady—but Francis trying to pick up the pace…” Francis stands center ring and JD shoots back off the ropes. Mak attempts to take him down with a clothesline, but Jamie ducks and JD fires off a counter kick – BUT the Franchise is prepared scouting the attack, Mak parries the blow meant for his head and hooks it! Drazon, of balance for the first time in the match is easy prey, as he get shoved into a quick standing cradle!!! “Oh my! He’s got Citizen Dawg set up for the Franchise Tag, just like that!” “Don’t tell me…” shouts Riley, as Mak hoists Drazon off of the mat, stalling him in mid-air, nearly perpendicular to the canvas, before leaping and kicking his legs out… … *WHAAAM!!!* BRINGING JD’S CRANIUM CRASHING TO THE CANVAS AT A BREAK NECK SPEED FOR HIS JUMPING FISHERMANSBUSTER, KNOWN TO ALL AS THE FRANCHISE TAG~! “This is bullshit!” shouts Riley, “I didn’t think he’d actually PULL OFF a flash win…” “Well believe it Riley, as my notes say nobody has kicked out of the jumping fisherman’s buster, called Franchise Tag!” Thousands of flash bulbs go off during the Franchise Tag, as JD sits, sprawled out on the mat. Mak quickly covers, hooking the far leg and hoping he could be lucky enough to put JD away early. The crowd counts along, just knowing the match is over… “ONNNEEE…!” “TWOOOOOOOOOO…!” … “THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAHHHHHHH!” … “YEEEEESSSSS!” shouts Cyclone Comet, raising his hands in the air, as the crowd lets out a triumphant roar of approval. *DING! DING! DING!* “The winner of this bout … And STILLLLLL your SMARKS WRESTLING FEDERATION INTERCONTINENTAL TELEVISION CHAMPION… “THE FRANCHISE” MAAAAK FRAAAANCISsssssss!” “Mak Francis has done the impossible… he will break the record setting reign of Tom Flesher, and I could not be happier for him.” “Francis pulled that completely out of his ass…” Mak sits, mentally tired as Long hands him belt and the crowd is cheering him on. And he smiles. He smiles for the first time in a while, but everyone has to wonder, what does the future hold for the new, record setting ICTV champion, as we go to commercial break.

As Storm comes back from commercial, the scene shifts to one of the locker rooms. Inside, sitting in his wheelchair is the H-Ville Thugg. Seated in a large black overstuffed chair across from the Thugg sits “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens. Stevens is watching a television intently, studying tapes after tape of his prior matches with the Suicide King. “Damn Thugg, I’ve been waiting for this a long time.” “I know man, but yo…I gotta holla at ya ‘bout something real quick.” Grand Slam pauses the tape and turns towards the monster. “Shoot.” “Well bro, that match between you and King. It ain’t fair, yo.” “What do you mean it isn’t fair? You know you’d be in the match one way or another if…” “Yeah, if… lotsa ifs flyin’ around these days, all I’m sayin’. I thought ‘a somethin’ last night… didn’t sit real well with me. So what happens if you win this match?” “When I win… well, I guess we get rid of King’s contract so he can’t screw around with us anymore. Then we just take things as they come.” “We… the both of us then… That’s a pretty…uh…naïve thought, ain’t it cuz?” “I don’t think so. Why do you say that?” “You won the match dogg… you beat the guy, you’re the Commissioner, I’m just some nigga you dragged along for the ride. The boys are going to look to you for leadership, not some guy in a wheelchair. I mean, you come up in here and steal my thunder and shit…so you can make your big entrance the other night and get that big match against King you been dying for… I’ll tell you what I see…” “What do you see?” “I see you at home, watchin’ the tube, just waitin’ for the chance to come in here like some white knight or whatever…and save the fuckin’ day. Just like always. You see me and my 13% tearin’ the place up and you think, ‘I gotta get me some o’ that!’. So now you got the match that should be mine… ” “What the hell are you talking about Thugg?” “I’m sayin’ you usin’ me man! You stole my action!” “Thugg! You’re being unreasonable… You know I’d get you into that match if you could do it!” “Yeah, I get it… but I’m just a cripple, right? Is that what’s up? I can’t walk and shit?” “Dammit Thugg, I didn’t say that. You know I wouldn’t say that!” “That’s another thing… what’s with all this ‘friendship’ noise all of a sudden? Last time I checked, you and me ain’t pals… we ain’t shit. You called me twice in a year. Once to get me to help with Edwin when he was dealin’ with all that Silent bull, and once to see how I was doin’ after the match with Bo. That’s it man… that don’t make us tight.” “I can forgive and forget Thugg. Don’t think there aren’t a few things that piss me off about you. But I can look past that for the greater good of the Fed.” “Bullshit. I know you Mark. I’ve fought with you more times than I can think. This ain;t about the Fed, this is about you and King. I’m just a convenient tool. And now that I think of it… what about me pissed you off? The money? The women? The fact that I laid your ass out for the World Title and made you my bitch?” Grand Slam stands up, obviously trying to control his emotions and starts to pace as he talks. “No Thugg… it’s… let’s not go there. It’s not important.” “Not important? You got some beef with me and it ain’t important. You may not lie but you can still be full of shit!” “Fine! You want to know what pisses me off? You want to know why I’m almost glad you aren’t in the match? Where was my phone call Thugg?” “What the hell you talkin’ ‘bout? Phone call for what?” “The first night you’re back, you reinstate Mak as the ICTV Champion and you re-hire Hardy. Ben freakin’ Hardy of all people… and this is after he sold you down the river to King and his gang. So I’m watching at home, and I tell Lynn to keep the phone line clear, because I’m sure the next thing I hear will be Thugg on the line giving me my job back… maybe helping me re-open Bases Loaded. But what happened? Nothing. You let all that crap between us years ago keep you from hiring me back. So I did what I had to do to get myself back here. And I’ll tell you this Thugg, if that is how you treat loyal employees, I don’t want you in charge. You are as bad as King.” “You’re pushing your luck yo. I’ll get up outta this chair and…” “Wreck my shit? Don’t start Thugg. Don’t even freakin’ start.” There is a long pause as the two proud men fume for a second. Finally, Thugg’s commanding voice breaks the silence. “So what now? We through? Cause, I’m sayin’…this shit ain’t just gonna go away.” “No. Not as far as I am concerned. You’re right about one thing Thugg. I want to get my hands on King. Dammit, he deserves it. But it isn’t just about me. It’s about the whole SWF. What do you want me to do?” “Get me into the match.” “Dammit Thugg, we’ve been through this before! You can’t wrestle, and it isn’t going to be on my conscience when you get yourself killed!” “I’ll get a replacement, someone to stand in for me.” “Who?” Thugg looks at Grand Slam and smiles a wicked little smile. Grand Slam leans on the back of the chair he was occupying. “No way. You can’t be serious?” “Yeah dogg…you got it.” “Him? …that huge mother that ran in on Fasaki and Judge? That bastard that attacked Johnny a little while ago?” “Ha…yo, you’re dumb man. Can’t you see it…please tell me this shit is obvious cause I ain’t gonna sit here and believe you can’t figure it out.” Mark stares at Thugg… “He’s my brother! Shit man…look at us…who the hell else can he be? I mean, you had him at Bases Loaded a while back…are you fucking senile in your old age?” “That's Bastion? No way Thugg, its not happening! I remember him too well…no freaking way. He hasn’t changed a bit! It’s bad enough that punk is running around attacking people like a maniac, I don’t want him at Genesis.” “Its perfect! He’s my brother, he doesn’t have a match at Genesis, we can get him a contract, and you don’t have a choice Mark.” “No way I am going along with this Thugg! Bastion doesn’t belong in a wrestling ring at all, let alone on the biggest show of the year! He is a danger to himself and others.” “I get it, you’re worried he’ll take out you and King and I’ll be in charge.” “No Thugg, I’m worried he’s going kill somebody. I’m not just worried that he's going to just make us look bad, I'm worried that he is going to get us thrown off the frickin' air! He’s out of control! For God’s sake, how could you even think of bringing him here after I kicked him out of Bases Loaded? You saw what he did to that kid! I’m pretty sure Joey won’t forget Bastion every time he puts on his eye patch on the morning.” “You don’t know the whole story Mark! That kid’s been through hell! First of all, that little shit had it coming…the way he was provokin’ Bastion like that. Second of all, you don’t know what kind of life he’s had…you ain’t grow up where we did. When he was 14, he was sent to a center for criminally insane children…cause he…cause he…well, fuck that…it ain’t important what he did. He was sent there over some bullshit. Them kids in that joint ain’t no joke…he had to be hard…he had to hit the weights…he had to be gangsta. You can’t just turn that shit off. That’s who he is…and I know he ain’t no saint…hell, neither was I, and you see where I’m at today! So don’t gimme this bullshit…he’s my fuckin’ brother, and he fuckin’ stays! He needs me! I promise moms I’d look after him…so, he ain’t goin’ a mutha fuckin’ place.” “Thugg, there’s no way you are going to get me to agree to this.” “I’ll keep my eye on him Mark. He’s just mixed up, you know? He don’t quite get it yet. But he WILL listen to me…I’m his older brother. He respects me…he loves me…and he will listen to me. Besides, I don’t see as you got a choice Mark. It’s either this or it is over. All of it. Bastion’s in or King wins. How you like that?” “Fine Thugg. Whatever… if it keeps us in the game at this point, then you’re right… I don’t have a choice. But you keep that… that lunatic… out of my way until the match, and you keep him out of trouble, or there will be hell to pay. You got that?” Thugg smiles, brushing off the empty threat and leaning back in his chair. “You got it Slammer. Hell to pay…” Grand Slam looks at Thugg through narrowed eyes and seems to be on the verge of saying something, then just turns and leaves. The camera view switches to outside the locker room as Grand Slam bursts through the door. He moves past the camera in a hurry. Thugg can be seen through the door taking a deep breath. He’s in the match and now he just needs to get Bastion ready. The door closes, and just as the shot is about to cut away, the camera catches movement behind the door. As it closes, a figure emerges from the shadows. Only partly visible his identity is given away by the sheer bulk of his shoulders and the cornrows in his hair. Slowly, menacingly, Bastion smiles an evil smile and cracks his knuckles. Fade to black…

Deep inside the Rupp Arena, the Suicide King sits in his office, plotting the complete and utter destruction of Mark Stevens and Wheels. His attention is distracted from this very important matter when his office door suddenly swings wide open! “Son of a b*tch!” Covered in white plaster powder, Johnny Dangerous STORMS into the humble King’s office, holding dearly to his ribs! He breaths rapidly, grimacing in pain as he shouts: “KING!” “What in the hell?” says King, not sure what to think of the sight, he stands from his seat, angrily tossing down his pen. “Can I not go one show without someone barging into my office with their problems?” “Lose the match at Genesis and I’ll go to Steven’s office instead.” replies Johnny. “Did you not see what JUST happened?” “Umm... no... see I was trying to get some actual work done, Johnny. I have a ton of problems to worry about on my own without concerning myself over yours, or anyone else’s!” “Fine I’ll tell you what happened!” snaps Johnny. “No, I said...” but before King can even finish, Johnny begins to spin his tale: “To begin with, I had spent the time between Smarkdown and now at home celebrating my defeat of Mak Francis. Not wanting anyone to miss out on the party, I baked cupcakes for everyone to share at Storm!” Dressed in his usual black attire, but with a red “Kiss The Cook” apron tied around his waist, Johnny walked the back halls smiling from ear to ear! In his hands he carried a tray of cupcakes, iced in many different colors. The only thing in common was the writing on all of them “Congrats Johnny!” “I soon came across many of our SWF Superstars in the back, but the ones that seemed to stand out the most were Judge Mental and Ejiro Fasaki, Justice and Rule! Wildchild was right behind them.” They snapped their fingers with each step they took as they came up the hallway, and stopped in front of Johnny. “... And how are you fine Gentlemen doing this evening?” I humbly asked. “What the hell is this?” said Judge in his always gruff tone. He looked at Ejiro, who looked at Judge. They both shrugged, then looked behind them at the BAHAMA BOMBER! “Don’ look at me.” said the Wildchild, wearing a do rag, and flipping through an astoundingly large sum of bills. “He’s been off in da’ head since Thirteenth Hour!” “I baked everyone cupcakes, here try one!” Wildchild pushed through the middle of Judge and Ejiro, approaching Johnny as the Barracuda keeps his million dollar smile glaring. “Cupcakes, Johnny? Dat’ about takes da’ cake!” “JOHNNY!” shouts King, bringing Johnny back into reality. “get to the point already!” “Oh, sorry, anyway, okay.” grumbles Johnny. “It was that-that-that HUGE, and I mean frickin’ HUGE black guy that attacked Justice and Rule on Smarkdown! He came after me King, knocked me right through the wall!” “So what do you expect me to do about it?” “I expect, that you’ll send this clown into the ring! He thinks he can just run around with surprise attacks, well lets see how good he does in the ring, against ME! The most Dangerous MAN in this federation!” “Johnny, word of advice.” says King. “Don’t title yourself something that belongs to me, and if you want a match against this guy fine, I don’t have time to mess with it! Just don’t come crying to me if he breaks you in half.” “Good.” Johnny replies, brushing the dust off his sleeve. “I just hope I don’t hurt him too badly, I’d hate to ruin his confidence.” Johnny spins around, and heads out the door. “And don’t slam that door either!” King calls after him, but the Barracuda doesn’t even close the door. “Jesus H. Christ!” growls King, standing up to go close the door. “I didn’t mean to leave it open, God damn mother F--”

“WHAT IS THIS!?” “THIS IS STORM, MOTHERFUCKERS!” The SWF mix of Snoop Dogg’s “Who Am I?” blasts over televisions all across America, the Rupp Arena billboard blazing light, light that reads “SWF STORM – TONIGHT – SOLD OUT!” With this we cut to a shot of the sold-out crowd, panning around the entire arena quickly so that we catch a shot of a large wheel at the end of the entrance ramp. Post-pan we cut to a shot of CYCLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE COMET~!… oh, and Bobby Riley, LIVE and on commentary! “Hello again, fans, I’m Bobbo Riley alongside everybody’s favorite superhero, Cyclone Comet! We are LIVE tonight and we are PUMPED for tonight’s main event – ‘The Superior One’ Tom Flesher versus The Boston Strangler, I Quit match for the SWF Heavyweight Championship! Fans, there is NO WAY you can go wrong with a match like this!” “Absolutely not, and also tonight we have the SJL’s Apostle going up against the SWF’s Judge William Hearford the Third, with the winner facing ‘The King of Nightmares’ Michael Craven for a shot at whoever the world champion may be at THE PAY-PER-VIEW OF JUSTICE~, Genesis IV!” “Spectacular, Comet! But coming up RIGHT NOW…” “QUIZ!” “SHOW!” “COME ON DOWN~!” Rod Roddy’s voice blares over the loudspeakers as “Come On Down” by Crystal Waters begins to play, a pair of sliding doors opening to reveal Quiz and Show, tag titles strapped tight around their waists! Quiz, dressed tonight in a black suit with a red tie, has a microphone in his hand, and as he strolls down the entrance ramp to the big wheel at the bottom he grins, raising the mic to his lips and beginning to speak. “Ladies and gentlemen of Lexington, WELCOME to another Quiz show!” The crowd goes lukewarm as Quiz mumbles a few curse words in their general direction before continuing. “Tonight we have one contestant in this studio, and his name is Nathaniel Kibagami. Mr. Kibagami wishes to take on both Show and myself, with absolutely ZERO… HOLDS… BARRED!” The crowd roars in anticipation of the hellacious beatdown Kibs is most definitely going to give to Double Jeopardy, and Quiz brushes it off as he continues. “So tonight, Double Jeopardy can use WHATEVER… WE… WANT!… against Kibagami! But there’s so many different things we can use against him, it’s kinda hard to decide.” Show grins besides Quiz, grabbing the microphone in Quiz’s hand and bringing it to his lips. “ENTER THE WHEEL!” Quiz smiles as well. “As my friend was saying, this is the Wheel… of… WEAPONS! And tonight, good people, we’re going to let the Wheel decide exactly what Kibagami will be feeling pain from! SHOW!” Show snaps to attention, looking at Quiz in a very D-Von-esque manner. Quiz shoves him with both hands, then yells out, “SPIN THAT WHEEL!” Show grabs the wheel, spinning it… …and it lands on “Cyclone Comet’s Chair”! The crowd pops as it lands, and Quiz and Show both look at Comet, grinning menacingly. They slide into the ring, Quiz pointing warningly at Comet as fog begins to billow up from unseen holes in the entrance ramp, the first haunting notes of Nevermore’s “The River Dragon Has Come” echoing through the arena. The SmarkTron shows Kibagami, back facing the camera, in a simple wooden chair, just as the audience is lulled into a false sense of security by the soothing music… *BAM!* Every light in the arena – the house lights, the spotlights near the entrance ramp, even the picture on the SmarkTron – suddenly flares, blinding white, as the distortion kicks in and the music begins to pound through the speakers. The picture on the SmarkTron is replaced with the familiar burning ankh… Today, the warning came in the flood… Kibagami comes through the curtains and the fog as the vocals begin, and the lights are finally reduced to their usual level. The Silent One briskly makes his way to the ring, ignoring the fans’ cheers completely as the music surges forward. He tosses a disdainful glare at the wheel before sliding into the ring, rolling to his feet and walking to the nearest turnbuckle. Kibagami climbs to the top rope and poses in the crucifix position… WHUMPH! :DING DING DING: Double Jeopardy waste no time trying to take out Kibagami, Show and Quiz charging at the big man and throwing forearms at his back. Kibs hops back off the turnbuckle, turning around through the barrage of forearms… only to catch a bitchslap to the face from Quiz! The crowd pops slightly for the ballsy small man, then begin to “OOOOOOOOOOOOOH”, anticipating what is to come as Kibagami whips around, knocking Quiz over and nearly out with a stiff roundhouse kick! Quiz takes a tumble over the top rope, falling to the outside hard as Show immediately pounces on Kibs, catching him with a knee to the stomach to drive the wind out of him. “Double Jeopardy looking to get things started early, and Quiz takes a nasty strike from not thinking his plan of attack through!” “Well ain’t that a shame of JUSTICE~!, Bobbo.” Show turns Kibagami around, putting Nathan into a standing headscissors! Show wraps two huge arms around Kibs’ waist, lifting Nathaniel up into powerbomb position as the crowd roars, two-hundred and seventy pounds on Show’s shoulders as he falls forward, driving Kibagami’s back right into the mat with a vicious falling powerbomb! The crowd boos as Show stands up, going over to where Quiz is recovering on the outside to check on his partner… …and Nathaniel Kibagami sits up. The big man gets to his feet, going over to Show and grabbing him from behind around the waist! He lifts Show up, throwing him back and over his body with a vicious German suplex! The crowd erupts as Kibagami gets to his feet, walking coldly up to Show’s head. He lifts one boot high into the air, sizing up Show’s head for a second before driving his boot down onto it, much to the delight of the crowd. Kibs gets on his knees, now, pulling a black marker out of his boot and lifting Show’s head up, drawing a black X under Show’s head! The crowd erupts as Kibs puts the marker back, standing up to his full height and lifting Show up. “Show’s a marked man, Comet! Kibagami is going to Demonstar him right there!” “Ah, have no fears, Bobbo. Quiz will get his daily dose of JUSTICE~! as… what the heck are you doing?” Quiz shoves Comet, knocking the superhero into Riley’s lap! Quiz grins, tipping an invisible hat to Comet as he grabs the superhero’s announce chair, folding it up and putting it under his shoulder as he slides into the ring, grinning like a madman. Riley smirks. “I guess he’s living up to his promise.” Meanwhile, Kibs knees Show in the stomach, putting the former Grappler into a standing headscissors as the crowd erupts, looking for a huge physically devastating move of some sort!… *CRACK!* *CRACK!* …but instead, we get two Quiz chairshots to Kibagami’s back! The crowd boos like mad as Quiz backs off, allowing the Show to lift himself up to his full height, back body dropping Kibagami! The crowd lashes out at Double Jeopardy with boos, as Show looks to Quiz, and in a shock QUIZ LOOKS BACK AT SHOW~!, the two reading each other’s mind! “Quiz and Show obviously have big plans, and they could spell BIG TROUBLE for Kibagami!” “Here’s hoping that Nathaniel Kibagami, Citizen Extraordinaire annihilates that villainous thieving thief Quiz!” Quiz charges at the ropes, still clutching the chair in his right hand as he hits them and comes charging back at Show! The crowd, expecting the Double Dare, begins holding their breath for Kibagami to avoid as Quiz hits the bent-over Show, who stands up to his full height, flipping Quiz over his body! The crowd holds their breath as Quiz holds the chair to his back, flipping over so that the chair is in position to slam into Kibagami’s stomach, with Quiz on top of it… *CLANG!* “OOOH! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” The crowd goes absolutely WILD as Kibs rolls out of the way, causing the chair to be driven into Quiz’s back! Quiz grabs his back in pain, rolling out of the ring as Show stands up, turning around into a huge lariat from Kibs, nearly decapitating the huge Show! The crowd roars forcefully as Kibs grabs Show by the neck, lifting the huge man to his feet. “Double Jeopardy misses the chair-assisted Double Dare, and now Kibagami finds himself on the offensive once more!” “And against Show, no less. The dirty fiend has been a relative non-factor in this match!” With Show doubled over, Silent starts peppering the big man in the face with knee strikes. After a brief flurry, Kibs grabs Show by the arm and stands side to side with him, scissoring his leg back and falling forcefully down to the mat with a Russian leg sweep! The big man holds his neck, rolling away from Silent on the mat, trying to catch a breather. Silent simply stares at Show, and then looks to the crowd, holding his arms in the air as they greet him with a massive ovation. However, the crowd begins to buzz even louder, until the camera pans back… *CRACK* …well, it was worth a try. Silent doesn’t budge, as he turns around to see Quiz standing in shock, this time with a trash can lid in his hands! THINKING FAST~, Quiz drops the lid and charges to the ropes, pushing off of them and running at Kibagami, leaping into the air sideways for a cross body block. Unsurprisingly, Silent simply catches the lightweight in midair, and after holding onto him for a second, arches back and flips Quiz over with a fall away slam! For some reason, the crowd begins to boo… “Show just caught Quiz in mid-air!” shouts Riley, “what an unbelievable act of genius and athleticism!” “Citizen Riley, that lumbering oaf caught a 180-pounder! He eats more than that in a day!” Kibagami turns around to see what happened, and at that instant, Show keeps his grip on Quiz and charges forward, using Quiz’s body as a battering ram of sorts to plow down Silent! The crowd slightly pops at the move, but when they remember who pulled it off, a shower of boos rains down through the arena. Energetically, Quiz leaps on top of Silent’s shoulders, holding them down for a pin as referee Soapdish drops to count… …but he doesn’t even get to one, as Kibagami presses Quiz up HIGH into the air, kicking out with AUTHORITY! Quiz hits the mat, and with Silent still on his back, Show tries to capitalize, leaping into the air, coming down on Silent with a splash…but Kibs rolls out of the way, and Show lands right on his face! With the Tag Team Champions down on the mat, Silent rolls out of the ring, lifting up the apron looking for only one thing. “OH NO!” screams Riley, “Not that, anything but that!” “Sweet merciful krypton! Silent has the steel tipped cane!” The crowd ROARS their approval, not unlike that of a fellated tiger. Silent climbs onto the apron of the ring, ready to strike, when he sees Quiz and Show standing in his way, poised and ready to strike! Kibs decides to “fuck this noise”, and he throws his cane LIKE A FRISBEE~, aiming to hit one of the tag champions. *FWOOOOOOSH* The cane breezes just inches past Show’s head, as it *CLANGS* against the metal ring post and falls to the outside of the ring. With that strategy temporarily out the window, Silent decides to do what he does best, rushing between the ropes and into the ring. Before Double Jeopardy even realizes what happened, Silent shoots his leg out and catches Quiz with a BIG kick to the sternum, knocking the wind out of him and dropping him down to the ground! Show tries to avenge his partner by swinging his arm for a lariat, but Silent ducks, wrapping his arms around Show in another waistlock. Kibs begins to hoist back again for another German Suplex, but this time Show has it scouted, and he shoots his leg backward, connecting his boot with Kibagami’s testicles! Silent grimaces in pain, but to the shock of the Tag Champion, keeps the waistlock applied! Quicker now, Show shoots his leg back into Silent’s crotch a second time, and to be safe, a third time, which finally causes the Silent One to drop to his knees, clutching his crotch in pain. “Simply unbelievable!” says Riley, “It took THREE low blows to drop Silent TO HIS KNEES. I don’t think we’ll be seeing any other Kibagamis. Of course, that’s not a BAD thing.” “Dare I say,” adds Comet, “that Silent has superhuman vitality! I don’t think it’s possible for our *beloved* tag team champions to even keep him down for a three count!” “There’s a way,” replies Riley, “there’s ALWAYS a way.” Show calls the attention of Quiz, who is still catching his breath, and tells him to seize the superhero’s steel chair, which is still lying in a corner of the ring. Quiz obliges, and after conferring with Show, drops the chair down on the still-kneeling Silent’s head! *CRAAACK!* Kibagami doesn’t fall, and Show uses this to his advantage. Quiz holds the chair in front of Silent’s face, and the big man backs into the ropes, building up momentum as he charges at full force, lifting his leg up and slamming it right into the chair, crashing right into Silent’s face! Kibs drops down to the mat, and the boos rain on Double Jeopardy’s parade yet again. “Sweet Gotham!” begins Comet, “That was a chair-assisted Shining Black by the Tag Team Champions! I know it took three shots to groin to put him down, but that was vicious!” “I told you, Comet! These two men, despite their appearance, know what they’re doing in the ring at all times. They’re not the Tag Team Champions for nothing, after all.” “Bobbo, they haven’t even defended those titles yet!” “…that’s irrelevant.” For a brief moment, Kibagami doesn’t stir, and the champions pounce on this opportunity. Quiz quickly slides outside of the ring, looking under the apron…and pulling out a table! The crowd pops at the revealing of the wood, and Quiz slides it into the ring, following it inside. Show grabs the dining implement and sets it up, close to a turnbuckle. Without hesitation, Show picks Silent up off the mat and lifts him onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. Then, the Champion begins spinning…and spinning…and spinning…around and around with the Lose A Turn airplane spin! Finally, after six rotations, Show drops Silent, right onto the table! With that, Quiz climbs the turnbuckle closest to the table, with his back to the ring, as Show stands by Silent’s head, pinning his body down on the table. *CRACK!* What Show didn’t expect, though, was Silent’s lower half, as his left leg shoots up and connects with Show’s forehead! The force of the kick causes Show to drop down to the mat, but Quiz is unaware of this as he leaps up and vaults back into the air, completing a picture perfect moonsault… *CRASH BOOM BANG!* …through an empty table, as Silent rolls out of the way!! The crowd cheers loudly, stomping and clapping for the odds-on favorite. Shaking the cobwebs out of his head, Kibagami picks Show up and with lightning speed, shoots his left leg around again, this time connecting with the side of Show’s head with a roundhouse kick! The big man staggers back into the turnbuckle and Silent raises his arm to the crowd, signaling for the end! “I think it’s time,” begins Comet, eagerly, “for Silent to strap on his proverbial cape and fly, with the Flesh Into Gear!” “…Did I just hear you say ‘Silent’ and ‘strap on’ in the same sentence?” Facing the same direction as Show, the Silent One, now perched on the turnbuckle, grabs the former Grappler in an inverted facelock, and then proceeds to flip forward, completing the Diamond Dust…but Show holds onto the top rope for dear life, and Silent catches nothing but air as he hits the mat with his buttocks! With Kibs temporarily in the sitting position, Show charges out of the corner and rolls forward with a hold on Silent’s head, snapping his neck forward a la Curt Hennig. With Silent down, Show gets up and runs to the opposite ropes, pushing off of them and coming back at his opponent. He then leaps into the air, face up, and drops all of his weight down across Silent’s upper body with the biggest senton splash this side of Dick Togo! Instead of going for a pin, however, Show has a better idea. With his partner Quiz still asleep in the wreckage of a table, the big man heads outside of the ring, to retrieve THE STEEL TIPPED CANE~! The crowd jeers their disapproval as Show smirks, rolling back into the ring waiting for Kibagami to reach his feet. When he does, he lifts the cane up and brings it down with all of his might… FWOOSH- …and Silent catches the cane, just inches from connecting with the top of his head! When Show doesn’t budge, Kibs lifts his right leg up, connecting squarely with a well placed kick to Show’s testicles! Unlike Silent earlier, Show drops like a sack of bricks. For good measure, however, Silent takes the cane, measuring up Show’s head as the crowd begins to buzz, louder and louder. He raises the cane above his head as the crowd reaches a fever pitch, and then brings it down! FWOOOSH-THUNK! “OOOOOH!” The cane connects in a big, big, big way with Show’s head, and he collapses to the mat as the crowd roars! Silent tosses the cane aside and drops on top of Show, commanding Soapdish to count the pin as the crowd counts along… ONE!!!! TWOOOO!!!!!!! THR……..E……………QUIZ BREAKS UP THE PIN WITH AN ELBOW TO THE BACK! Silent pops up off of Show, staring the deepest hole ever seen into Quiz. Realizing what he’s done, the game show host begins to back away, trepidation showing in every inch of his body. “What a vicious shot!” says Riley, “Silent practically split Show’s HEAD in half! At least Quiz was there, because, as much as I hate to admit it, that would’ve been the end!” “Speaking of Quiz,” chimes in Comet, “I think that move was a…*ahem* very point very very times ten to the very-th power bad idea.” “…” Quiz quickly rolls out of the ring, dashing over to the wheel and hiding behind it. Kibagami smiles inwardly as he rolls out from under of the bottom rope, walking over towards the wheel. He walks around it, waiting to spring on Quiz… *CRACK!* A superkick stuns Kibagami, but he doesn’t go down. Quiz, seeing his opportunity, runs over to the barrier, hopping onto it quickly and leaping off, catching Kibs with a missile dropkick to the head! Nathan stumbles back a few feet, reeling from the succession of quick hits from Quiz as Show gets to his feet slowly, Quiz charging Kibagami once more and flipping forward, looking to bowl the Silent one over with his back… But Silent catches him in midair! The crowd erupts as Kibagami rolls Quiz over on his shoulder, pressing the smaller man high into the air! The crowd erupts as Kibagami walks over to the large wheel… and throws Quiz through it! “SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII – LENT!” “SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII – LENT!” “This crowd is going absolutely nuts for Kibagami’s actions against the SCHEMEROUS Quiz!” “That doesn’t mean he’ll win, Comet, it just means he can make the fans go roar.” Quiz spasms in pain, unmoving on the entrance ramp and surrounded by pieces of broken wheel as Kibagami slides back into the ring, where the stupefied Show stands, clumsily grabbing Kibagami by the arm and whipping him into the ropes. Kibs hits them and comes back hard at Show, looking to take him out with a huge lariat… but Show ducks it, moving quickly for once and delivering a drop toe hold to Kibagami! Nathan’s neck crashes across the middle rope, and he pauses there momentarily, not moving. Thinking quickly, Show gets to his feet, grabbing Kibagami by the midsection and lifting him up, making sure his neck is still pressed against the middle rope as he flips Kibagami over the top rope, catching the former Silent one in a hangman! Kibagami struggles against the hangman, trying to get air as Quiz stumbles to his feet, going over to the side of the ring and grabbing the ring steps. “GOOD GOD! Kibagami’s caught in a hangman!” “Double Jeopardy couldn’t beat him any other way, so now they have to resort to DANGEROUS TACTICS OF ANTIJUSTICE~!” “We all know Kibagami’s neck problems in the past, and Double Jeopardy seemingly stumbled right into the perfect plan!” Quiz takes off the top half of the ring steps, holding them high in the air as he walks over to Kibagami, the crowd’s boos reaching a crescendo as Kibagami pulls at the ropes, trying to free his head as Quiz throws the stairs at where Kibagami’s head is!… …was, as Kibagami escapes the ropes just in time! The stairs bounce harmlessly off the ropes, falling to the side of the gasping Kibagami as he angrily gets to his feet, grabbing Quiz by the suit and rolling him into the ring! “Kibagami escapes imminent danger, and now he looks ready to obliterate Double Jeopardy!” Kibs slides into the ring himself, absorbing a few kicks to the head from Show as he slides in. Angrily, he gets to his feet, still catching his breath but running on energy fueled by his anger, as he whips around, catching Show with a roundhouse kick to the head! Show topples over, and Kibagami grabs Quiz, catching him with a STIFF~! knee to the stomach! Quiz doubles over, and Kibagami grabs him, lifting him up in powerbomb position! Quiz, however, has no intentions of falling to a powerbomb, and he falls back, whipping Kibs overhead with a huge hurricanrana! Quiz lands on Kibagami’s shoulders, staying there as Show, groggy, puts his head between Kibagami’s legs, putting his feet on the middle rope as Quiz stays planted on top of Kibagami, looking for three from Soapdish! “OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Well, this is a typically evil way to win.” Kibagami struggles against the 189 pounds of Quiz, but Show’s leverage prevents him from going anywhere! “TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Good Lord, Comet, this is bloody brilliant! SUPER ROLLUP OF DEATH BY GOD!” “THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” :DING DING DING: Quiz rolls off of Kibagami, bailing as Show rolls out of the ring as well, Kibagami getting up, enraged. He grabs the cane left lying in the ring, a pissed-off expression of “I WILL KILL ALL OF YOU” on his face as Soapdish, a bit spooked, rolls out of the ring, grabbing the tag belts to hand to Quiz and Show. The two raise their arms, knowing they’ve barely escaped as Kibagami growls curses at them from in the ring. “Ladies and gentlemen, YOUR winners, they are the SWF TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS… Quiz and Show, DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUBLE JEOPARDY!” Quiz and Show laugh, nervous laughter, at Kibagami yells at them from the ring, the crowd showing their disdain as well as we… FADE OUT

Storm returns to the air, but heads straight backstage where we find Johnny Dangerous standing in the hallway. The fans in the arena boo at the sight of the self-declared super spy, who pulls a cigarette from his gold plated holder and lights it up. After one beautiful drag, he reaches down and picks up a near empty box, which looks like it once contained a good amount of pastries. He walks along proudly when all of a sudden he jumps to his left… …and a huge monster of a man comes flying past him and… CRASH!! …through the wall next to him, shoulder first!! Being the confident spy that he is, Johnny could feel the attack coming, and quickly dodged as the man flew past in his attempt to spear Dangerous into next week. Nonchalantly, Johnny takes several more drags from his cigarette without even peeking at the smoldering hole in the wall, through which a man just flew through. Upon finishing his cigarette, the cocky agent stamps it out with his foot, and now appears ready to learn the identity of his attacker. Perhaps it was Wildchild, ready for his date with destiny…or maybe someone sent by Wildchild…who knows. Johnny walks in front of the whole in the wall, but all he sees is a huge, black fist heading towards his face. Like an good spy, Johnny has reflexes like a cat, and quickly slides to his left again and avoids the blow. His assailant begins to move out of the hole, but Johnny, taking no more chances, gives him a quick snap kick to the face, followed by a solid punch to the side of the head. However, this does not seem to deter his attacker, who shrugs off the blows and steps through the hole. This is when Johnny sees him… …and it’s the same huge black guy that attacked Ejiro Fasaki and Judge Mental on Smarkdown! “You,” whispers Johnny as he looks up and the towering beast before him. The monster takes a swipe at Johnny, but the secret agent man quickly ducks the blow and scores four punches that land square on the giant’s chin, knocking him back several steps. “You think you can just surprise attack me,” asks Johnny rhetorically. “Please! I’m not Fasaki or Willy…you don’t know who I am or what I can do. Sorry bub…there’ll be no ass whooping today!” Johnny jumps in the air and drives his boot into the man’s chin, forcing him to stagger backwards considerably. Confident and with his adrenalin now rolling, Johnny pursues his attacker, who is obviously too slow to keep up with Johnny’s martial arts. Johnny leaps into the air, spins around, and lands a very ballerina-esque roundhouse kick to the man’s jaw, which forces the beast to no only back up, but also turn around and hold his jaw. “Hahahahaha…you’re ridiculous,” laughs Johnny. “How did you expect to sneak up on me while you were breathing so hard? And how did you expect to kick my ass when you can’t even fight? Sheesh…oh well…I guess some guys gotta learn the hard way.” When the beast returns to full height, Johnny prepares to let loose a barrage of kicks, but a very unfortunate event occurs for the spy… …his very first kick to the man’s ribs is trapped between his arm and his side. Now the beast’s got a hold of him, and Johnny’s face drops considerably as he realizes the strength of the man. Johnny tries to pull his foot away, but to no avail…and then it’s too late… BAM! …Johnny is flung by his leg up against the wall, the back of his head hitting hard against the sheet rock. Johnny holds the back of his head for just a second, but that is a second too long. The monstrous attacker takes a running start, and drives his shoulder into Johnny’s stomach with a ridiculous spear that causes Dangerous to fold over his body and then back out… …THROUGH THE WALL!! White dust flies everywhere as the man-beast puts Johnny D through the wall with that vicious spear. The unknown attacker stands up, all 7’0” of him, dusts himself off, and casually, but angrily, walks away. The camera zooms in to the new hole in the wall to show Johnny on all fours holding his ribs and wailing a bit in pain. Fade to commercial.

Fade in from commercial. Cyclone Comet poses before shouting, “Welcome back citizens of the wrestling view public! I… AM… CYCLONE CCCCOOOOMMMMMMMEEEETTTT! Sitting beside me, as always, is Bobby Riley, as we gather ‘round to watch this carnival of warriors with its carousel of villains and teacup ride of SUPERHEROES~ as they battle it out to determine the fate of the world! …well, world tag team titles, anyway.” “It’s actually only a contendership match, Comet.” “Still. Dante Crane and his gothic, drug addled friend Crow take on the Unholy Trinity in a tag team match! I wonder if Crow has hidden powers, like Dante?” Riley smirks, “The only thing hidden on Crow is what the border police couldn’t confiscate. Anyway, as the only sane commentator in this company, I must inform you that of course, there is STILL no love lost between two competitors in this match, Crow and Va’aiga, as was evidenced in the last match…” “And the additions of Dante and Dace are, as always, intriguing,” Comet adds. We fall to darkness and Dimmu Borgir's "Burn In Hell" begins to softly omit from the speakers. *BOOM!* Flames explode up and across the staging as the song explodes into a much heavier guitar riff! The crowd roars in approval as a spotlight turns on and focuses directly on the stage... ...revealing Crow, the Antichrist Superstar, with his his arms spread in the crucifix pose and beside him, standing solemnly amidst the flames is ‘Sick Boy’ Dante Crane. The riff slows tempo and black metal vox takes over... “Welcome to the abandoned land... Come on in child, take my hand... There is no work of play... Only one bill to pay...” As the music pumps through the arena, Crow lights a cigarette and Dante Crane shakes his head in disgust as he shoos away the smoke.They then begin to walk down the ramp… "There's just five words to say... As you go down... *BONG* Down... *BONG* Down... *BONG*" ... "YOU'RE GONNA BURN IN HELL! OH, BURN IN HEEEEEEEELL!" Funyon rises and booms, "Coming down the aisle, at a combined weight of FOUR hundred and FOURTY one pounds, please welcome... the Antichrist Superstar CRRROOWWWW and Sick Boy DANTE CRAANNNEEE!!" Crow strides up the steel steps, casually smoking his cigarette as he climbs through the ropes and into the ring. ‘Sick Boy’ Dante Crane however, slides into the ring and runs over to their corner. The Gothic Warrior leans against the ropes, smoking, while he and Dante wait for their opponents... Smoke billows out from the entrance way, lit red by the gateway lights as red lasers pierce through the air and shine across the entrance area – creating a visual light mesh effect. “LET FREEDOM RING WITH A SHOTGUN BLAST!” Machinehead’s “Davidian” explodes onto the speakers as a blast of pyrotechnics goes off. The entire entrance is bathed in red as Dace Night walks through the entrance curtain. Stepping out from behind him is the returning beast, the Maori Badass, Va’aiga! Cutting a swath through the laser mesh and the smoke, they stride down the ramp in unison. The fans roar in approval as the two men salute them before climbing into the ring. “As we should all remember, these two teams met only a few shows ago, with the Trinity picking up the victory,” Cyclone reminds. “But this battle of valour and grit is for all the marbles, as the winner will face Double Jeopardy for the tag titles at Genesis!” “Which is complete crap, may I add,” snorts Bobby. “The Trinity are former champions, and they should be ENTITLED to a rematch—not forced to rip through these two nancy-boys again. And hell, on that note, why haven’t Justice & Rule gotten THEIR rematch? Without them destroying the division, everyone else has been allowed to think they’re good!” “Well, Judge and Ejiro have been somewhat preoccupied with the tournament…” “Pfft. Details!” Crow heartily puffs back on his cigarette whilst Dante stretches in preparation. Dace and Va’aiga stand at the other side of the ring, discussing tactics… and Crow smirks at who they decide to send in first. “Ah, but what other way to begin this match but with Crow and Va’aiga,” proclaims Cyclone. “These two are great rivals, and have much history together, as I should not have to point out.” *DING!DING!DING!* The two men circle around the ring, getting back the feeling of one another, but Crow stops and steps forward. The Maori Badass also stops, and steps forward. They’re now face to face, man to man in the middle of the ring and it’s time for some dirty talk. A trade of harsh words ensues until Crow, being the kind speaker he is, strikes a nerve and Va’aiga snaps! He pulls his arm back and throws it forward, trying to kill his opponent with a lariat! Not to be however, as the Avian ducks under and sneaks behind Va’aiga to apply a rear waistlock. An elbow sent backwards hits Crow’s skull and he stumbles back into the ropes, thusly allowing Va’aiga to grab an arm and whip him across the ring. “Yeah, a history that recently, has been all Va’aiga,” Riley speaks up, a few moments after Comet’s point. “…but a history that Crow has dominated,” Comet adds. Off the ropes Crow flies and again Va’aiga tries for the clothesline. Unsuccessful once again, as the bird ducks under and keeps running. He jumps up and bunches his legs on the second rope, twisting around and smacking into a turning Maori with a twisting splash! Va’aiga is taken to the mat but he instantly powers Crow off and stands up, but only to fall into an arm drag by the quicker rising Antichrist Superstar. Va’aiga flips over and slams onto the mat, however, he shrugs it off and gets back up... only to fall into an arm drag another time! He gets up again and charges at Crow with anger in his eyes, but the bird drops down and captures Va’aiga’s legs with his own – taking him down with a drop toe hold! “A fast paced, rapid early exchange has the Maori Badbutt reeling!” “...Maori badbutt?” “Well, yeah,” Comet shrugs. “Profanity is not only impolite, Riley, but not of heroic nature.” Rushing to his side, the Antichristian Phenomenon once again uses the ropes to springboard, but this time twists, corkscrews and somersaults into a senton... which misses the target as the Maori Badbutt (giggle) saw it coming! Crow sits up and clutches at his back, it’s easily hurt after the punishment it took in the best of five with the Hell Machine and Va’aiga looks to capitalise. He starts to unleash some terrifying brutal kicks into Crow’s back and then bends down to unload a couple stiff elbows for good measure! “Crow’s early intensity is all but sapped, now,” says Riley. “And by focusing on the back… I think this proves that for all the ins-and-outs that Crow knows about Va’aiga, the Maori knows them just as well about Crow.” Grabbing a clump of hair, the Maori Monster then throws the bird into the turnbuckle and starts to throw punch after punch after punch! MAORI FLURRY! Va’aiga kisses his fist for good luck as Crow’s body slumps down the corner until his head rests against the top turnbuckle. Comet blanches. “Oh, my… forget the back, friend Fautleroy! Va’aiga’s looking to splatter Crow’s head all over the ring!” “Eh. Focusing on the back was better. With all the drugs Crow takes, he won’t feel a thing. No braincells or never-endings in THAT head.” The Maori Badass smirks as he rears back his arm and throws it forward, but to his dismay, he connects with nothing but HARD turnbuckle! The Antichrist Superstar manages to slip down at the last minute, and using Va’aiga’s moment of shock to an advantage, throws his head forward and head butts him right in the crotch! Referee Long comes into admonish Crow, but yeah, like he’s going to listen. Quick to continue his dirty work, the Gothic Warrior pulls Va’aiga into a front face lock and sits up on the top turnbuckle. Creating a spiral motion with his finger, he calls for the MURDEROUS DDT! The crowd roars in approval as Crow swings off to the side, twisting Va’aiga around... “Oh, ho,” Comet cries! “If he scores with the Murderous DDT, Crow and Dante can easily have lock down the advantage, here!” ... … “Puh-lese,” Riley scoffs. “You didn’t think it was gonna’ connect, did ya?” Va’aiga figuratively staples his feet to the ground using his superior weight advantage, and the two men jockey for position and spin around in circles. That is until Crow leaps into the air in one last effort to drive his opponent’s head into the canvas, but uh uh, not happening as the Maori Badass launches Crow halfway across the ring! SPLAT! Face first landing for the bird. Va’aiga screams at Crow to bring some more and of course, he obliges in his own way, charging forward and looking to take out the leg with a single leg takedown. The Maori Badass knows what the Antichristian Phenomenon is looking for, and knows his strategy from head to toe, and thus, merely sidesteps out of the way and brings down some hard forearms before Crow can make another move. Wrenching his up to a standing base, Va’aiga sends Crow into the ropes and lifts his boot high in the air... and TAKES HIS HEAD OFF WITH A BIG BOOT! Riley grins amongst the divided sounds from the crowd. “Well, Comet, you’re in luck. I guess Crow CAN fly like Dante—he may be a superhero yet!” Riley pauses as he starts chuckling, “Of course, he needs a little “boost” first.” The impact sends Crow flipping in the air and landing awkwardly on the canvas. The Maori Monster quickly picks Crow back up and lifts him up like preparation for the Maori Drop, but no, it’s too early, and instead he drops to one knee and drives his opponent’s back across it! The Gothic Avian cries out in pain, and starts to writhe as Va’aiga pushes down on his chest and his legs, increasing the pressure on his back. After a small amount of time, Va’aiga pushes the bird off and thinks of ways to continue his assault. Crow is hastily picked up and whipped into an empty corner, and Va’aiga follows straight after. Crow runs in face first and stumbles out back first... but is only driven back into the turnbuckles at an increased as Va’aiga’s shoulder smashes straight into his back with a brutal spear! “Zounds,” exclaims Cyclone! “This is a truly angered attack on Crow’s weakened back. If he doesn’t find a way to get out of this predicament soon…” “Yeah, no-one ever said Crow was spineless, but Va’aiga’s looking to prove them all wrong. Literally!” Riley hits the rimshot, as the readers contemplate hitting Riley. The Maori Badass is literally pumped and it can be easily seen that he is angry, angry at Crow and all the past encounters that he lost to that man. He taunts to the crowd, turns his attention back to his fallen opponent, and pulls him back up to vertical base. Va’aiga unleashes a punch into Crow’s forehead. The bird stumbles back. Va’aiga unleashes another punch, this time knocking Crow’s head off to the side. The Maori Badass then snaps as his opponent is STILL standing after two huge punches, rears his arm back and punches Crow with such force that the Antichrist Superstar falls to the ground in a heap! “Angered to downright VICIOUS, I’d say,” says Comet, upgrading the assault. “Va’aiga is seething—and we all know what happens when he gets angry…” Turning around and sticking his arms up into the air, Va’aiga gets a round of applause from the crowd... he won this small victory. ... Or did he? ... Behind him, the Gothic Warrior stands up slowly and spits out the blood seeping from a wound inside his mouth. “Well, maybe he’ll be able to restrain himself this one time…” Riley ventures. “Don’t kid yourself, Bobby. When Va’aiga becomes enraged, he becomes very… foolhardy?” Dace Night starts to yell at Va’aiga to turn around, and of course, hearing the tone of his tag partner’s voice he snaps back into wrestling head mode and turns around. It’s too late however, as Crow rears his leg back and throws it forward, connecting with Das Wunder Kick to Va’aiga’s knee! The big man drops to one knee as Crow rears his leg back again... and throws it forward, connecting with the Maori’s side! One final rearing back of the leg... AND DAS WUNDER KICK IS UNLEASHED FULL THROTTLE TO HIS HEAD! “Ja,” exclaims Comet! “Das Wunder Kick schließt auf seinem weg von gerechtigkeit an!” Riley pauses, “What the hell did you just say? ” Va’aiga slumps down back first to the canvas and looks in a daze. Crow’s hurting and needs some time out of the ring, and so, he looks towards his friend, his partner, that of Dante Crane. He staggers over and slaps the hand, and delighted, Dante flips into the ring with style... “Und jetzt ist es bis zum Dante Kran, zum herauf die!” “Stop that!” Dante tepidly approaches the Maori Badass, who slowly begins to get his wits about him. Dropping into a ready crouch, Dante prepares to rock Va’aiga with a few of his stylish, trademarked kicks… but has to react quickly as the former tag champ shakes out his head, roars, and clambers to his feet, and attempts to break Crane in half with a charging shoulderblock! Quick as a cat, Dante rolls out of the way, coming to his feet and keeping his momentum by charging head-long into the ropes. Va’aiga pivots and growls as he prepares to incerpt Dante, grabbing onto him and spinning him around in preparation for a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker… that the crafty cruiserweight tries to escape from in mid-turn, trying to lock his legs around Va’aiga’s neck as he passes it by. But Va’aiga can see where this is going, and he immediately lets go of Dante’s waist, transitioning up to his legs and seizing either one in preparation for a reverse powerbomb! The sequence is enough to whip the crowd into a frenzy, and they let out a big cheer as Va’aiga roars again, lifting Dante up… … …but this tale of reversals and counters is not yet over, as Dante is as fast with his hands as his feet, and takes one of Va’aigas arms with both of his hands. Caught of guard, Va’aiga cannot react as Dante breaks one of his legs free and is able to use his falling weight to bring the massive Maori down with an armdrag! “Fantastic sequence of flash and panache, if this superhero may say so,” states Comet. “Dante scores the advantage here…” “You seem to be ignoring the fact that Dante’s like an insect to Va’aiga, Comet. He doesn’t even have the impact in his shots that Crow does—sure, he can get more of them in, but it only takes three or four good hits from Va’aiga, and it’s lights out!” Dante knows this just as well as Bobby does, so as he gets to his feet, he once again prepares to lash out at Va’aiga the moment he stands up. And he doesn’t have to wait long, and the Maori regains his footing only seconds after “Sick Boy” does. And in a split second, Dante is all over Va’aiga, connecting with more kicks to the ribs! But once again, Va’aiga has no use for them, almost ignoring the shots and attempting to drill Crane with another heavy punch—but this time, Dante is prepared, ducking underneath, turning, and driving Va’aiga in the stomach with a STIFF savate kick! “Perhaps you forget that Dante, while not as strong, is a MUCH better striker than Crow, Bobby?” asks Comet, a grin visible behind his mask. Dante wastes no time following this up, pivoting around and suddenly backflipping, his foot connecting with the head of the stunned Va’aiga! The Crane Kick, Dante’s version of the Whipback Kick, earns a sound cheer as “Sick Boy” rises to a knee, catching his breath… … …and climbing full to his feet, he turns around to meet a snarling Va’aiga, who immediately tears his head off with a lariat! Dante obediently goes flipping as Va’aiga pumps his fists for the crowd! “BOO-YAH!” You can almost HEAR Comet’s fallen expression. Bobby smirks, “No, Comet. No I didn’t.” Sourly, Va’aiga makes his way to his corner, slapping the hand of Dace Night and entering him into the match for the first time. Still dazed from Va’aiga’s lariat, Dante is helpless as Dace pulls him full to his feet by his hair, and begins jam elobow after elbow into the side of his face! The strikes are enough to send Dante stumbling back into the ropes, which Dace uses to bounce Dante off and towards the opposite ones for an irish whip… which is reversed, as “Sick Boy” plants his feet firm and sends Dace running instead! On the rebound, Dante slides down, catching Dace’s legs in a drop toe-hold! Keeping the hold, Dante smoothly transitions into an ankle-lock hybrid… “Dante, showing a rare bit of wrestling hold ability,” observes Comet. …but Crane lacks the strength to keep the hold in for any length of time, and Dace is easily able to turn himself, and crack Dante in the face with his free leg! “…and Dace, showing a common bit of “kick you in the face” ability,” adds Riley. Dante breaks the hold, and is once more pulled up to his feet. Dace drills Crane with a few more elbow strikes, for good measure, and then stuffs his head between his legs in preparation for a powerbomb! He holds up one arm, playing to the fans, before grabbing Dante by the waist and hefting him up… …but suddenly, “Sick Boy” locks both of his calves around Dace’s head, and brings him down with a shock hurricanrana! The ref dives down to count… O…………………………N…………………………E! T…………………………W…………………………O! T…………………………H…………………………REEEE—NO! The pin is broken as Va’aiga charges across the ring from his corner. Crow immediately begins to enter the ring himself, but stops as the ref gets in Va’aiga’s face! The Maori sneers and argues with the referee, but the ref tugs at his Zebra shirt and fires back! …and behind him, the Antichrist Superstar smirks. With the ref distracted, Crow immediately instructs Dante to hang Dace Night neck first over the bottom rope. Nodding, Dante first quickly stomps Dace for security’s sake, and then hangs him over the ropes. Crow stands ready on the apron and tells Dante to climb above Dace… “Hey… hey, wait,” says Riley. “Ref! REF! Pay attention, you moron!” “Dante and Crow using Va’aiga’s argument with the official against them for a double-team shot,” says Comet. “I’ve never been one to support chicanery, but…” “But what!? This is illegal! You should be condemning it!” …and both men take a leap, Crow snapping across the back of Dace’s head with a legdrop, and Dante double-stomping his back from the second rope! Coughing and sputtering, Dace bounces free of the ropes and clutches at his neck; the action not going unnoticed by Va’aiga, who attempts to shove past the ref, but is held at bay and threatened with disqualification if he doesn’t return to his corner. Knowing what’s at stake, the Maori grudging obliges, but points to the other corner of the ring and instructs the ref, “to get your head out of your ass next time and pay some goddamn attention!” “Talk about a cheap shot,” grumbles Bobby. “Cheating bastards! That was underhanded!” “If Va’aiga had kept his head on, Dante and Crow wouldn’t have used what was given to them. Besides, you wouldn’t be complaining if it was Judge and Ejiro.” “Oh, just because you think Dante’s a superhero…” The ref turns his attention back to the match at hand… and notes the coughing Dace, but more importantly, Dante’s lateral press of him! He quickly dives down to try the count! O…………………………N…………………………E! T…………………………W…………………………O!! T…………………………H…………………………REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE—NO! DACE POWERS OUT! “Yes! Injustice, as you might say, Comet, is averted!” Comet glares at Riley, “Bobby, I like you, but there will be a storm of horror and destruction WROGTH~ if you ever try to dispense ‘justice’ again.” Sighing, Dante stands, and reaches back over to his partner, tagging Crow into the match once more. The Antichristian Phenomenon steps through the ropes, and drags the dazed Dace Night to his feet. Before Dante exits the ring, Crow signals to him, muttering something the cameras don’t pick up. Dante seemingly mulls it over, serving a glance to Va’aiga, who glares at him bitterly, and then nods. The Maori Badass can see what’s coming up, and he immediately beckons the ref to shoo “Sick Boy” from the ring. But the ref can nary react as both Crow and Dante pivot, lash out, and knock Dace’s head off with a perfectly co-ordinated… “Double Dancing Das Wunder Kick,” exclaims Comet! “…dancing?” “Yes, dancing. The dance of…” …wait for it… “JUSTICE~!” Riley sighs as Dace falls, dead to the world from the shot. The crowd, mixed as they have been through the entire match, give a small cheer from the SMACK sound of the move. Va’aiga, on the other hand, is in no mood for lauding or jeering—sick of the ref’s perceived incompetence, he decides to take matters into his own hands! Stampeeding into the ring, Va’aiga shoves the ref aside and delivers a crushing diving-shoulderblock to Dante, sending him toppling out of the ring! The Maori then immediately turns his attention to Crow, who quickly tries to counter the angry Va’aiga with a few hard punches—some might say, foolishly tries to counter, as Va’aiga easily shakes them off and decks Crow with a few of his own! A full scale brawl between the two errputs, as the Gothic Avian and the Maori Badass exchange right hand after right hand! The crowd is whipped into an absolute frenzy—and Va’aiga begins to gain a decisive advantage! “Egads, this has just degerated into absolute chaos! The ref has been bumped, Dante’s out, Dace is just barely getting his sense back, and Va’aiga is pounding the carpet out of Crow,” hollers Comet! “I know, it’s just what I was waiting to happen,” Bobby smirks. “Va’aiga’s sick of all that “behind the ref’s back” crap, so he’s going to remove the ref and just destroy Crow proper!” Indeed, the classic left cross x3 assault from Va’aiga silences any opposition from Crow; the Maori kisses his fist, and looks to let one final huge right hook… that connects with nothing, as Crow evades, like earlier in the match! Ducking underneath, Crow re-appears on the other side of Va’aiga—but the former tag champ was expecting that, and spins around, LEVELING Crow with another patented lariat! Crow rolls around on the canvas in pain, as Va’aiga turns to his partner, seeing Dace slowly regaining his feet… Va’aiga yells something at Dace, who nods in reply. Va’aiga grins, and shouts… “DECAPITATOR!” “Yes,” exclaims Riley! “If Va’aiga and Dace are the ones going to Genesis, they’re going to be the ones going in style… and Crow’s going to be the one going to the back without a head!” “Chaos often breeds disaster, Riley, but not for those who expect,” says Comet, sagely. “They may look to have it in the bag, but the Trinity had best be careful…” Moving into position, Va’aiga leans against the nearest ropes as Dace, still clearing his head, pulls the limp Crow to his feet. Stepping behind Cirillo, Dace trips him up, graps on to his thighs, and begins to hold him in position for the reverse powerbomb set-up of the Decapitator. Before he hefts Crow in the air, he lets out a big roar, and the fans respond! …the Dante/Crow section of the fans also respond, as they see Crane descretely climbing a turnbuckle out of sight from Va’aiga and Dace… Riley spots him, “Oh no.” Dace and Va’aiga see nothing out of the ordinary with the extra cheers, as they begin the motions for the Decapitator. Dace lifts Crow up, and Va’aiga springs off the ropes, looking for a big kick to the back of Crow’s head… … … …but Dante Crane has both of them beat, as he LEAPS off the turnbuckle, spins, and CONNECTS with the back of Dace’s with the DANTE’S INFERNO SPINNING ROUNDHOUSE! Dace collapses, Crow in hand, and Va’aiga’s kick misses completely! Dante crashes into the canvas from the move, and rolls out of the ring, winded. The High Priest of Horrorcore is surprised by his foot not coming into contact with anything, and the tired Dante capitalizes, grabbing Va’aiga by his legs and dragging him out of the ring! “NO!!!” exclaims Riley, in disbelief! “How… how could he…” “What did I tell you, Riley? Dante had enough in him to make one final, big move to eliminate Va’aiga, and give Crow a chance to cover!” “No! Dammit, Va’aiga! VA’AIGA! You have to stop these two!” Bobby’s pleas fall on deaf ears, as Va’aiga is held at bay by Dante, who fires of a series of stiff kicks to his midsection! They have a little more effect than usual, but Va’aiga snarls and latches on to Dante’s hand, irish whipping him… or trying to, anyway, as Dante uses his last gasp of strength to use Va’aiga’s momentum against him, sending him crashing into—and over—the stairs! In the ring, the situation is equally bleak for the Trinity, as Dace is out COLD and Crow isn’t fairing a whole lot better. Spurred on by the cheers, though, Crow slowly gains his wits about him, and sees a down-and-out Dace not to far away. At the same time, the ref shakes out the effect being tossed like rag doll by Va’aiga! Slowly… Crow inches… inches… … … …and he makes the cover! The crowd cheers again, and the ref is only moments behind him, slapping his hands down on the mat! O…………………………N…………………………E!!! “No…” T…………………………W…………………………O!!!! “Noooo!” T…………………………H…………………………REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! *DING!DING!DING!* “The winners of this match… and the number one contenders to the tag team titles… DANTE CRANE… and… CROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!!” Riley weeps. “Yes! Justice prevails, as always, and Dante Crane and Crow will cash in a shot at the tag titles at Genesis!” “Cheaters. Underhanded cheaters! I can’t believe this, Comet!” “Netiher can Dante, I don’t think, Bobby,” says Comet, as Crane enters the ring and holds up Crow’s hand, as ‘Burn in Hell’ rages behind them, “But sure as the sun will rise tomorrow, Dante and Crow will get a shot at Genesis. And also as sure as that, you need the products in this upcoming commercial break!” And on that, we fade out.

SWF Storm September 12, 2003 LIVE from the Rupp Arena in Lexington, Kentucky! All matches due by 10:00 PM Eastern Send to: Edwin MacPhisto Tag Titles #1 Contendersip Match Dante Crane and Crow vs. the Unholy Trinity (Dace Night and Va'aiga) Each of these teams has personal issues with the champs, Double Jeopardy. Each of them wants the privilege to utterly destroy the tag champions. Well, only one team will get that chance at Genesis, and tonight, we figure out who it is! Rules - Standard tag match Word Limit - 4500 Send to - chirs3 No-DQ Handicap Match Double Jeopardy vs. Nathaniel Kibagami To say that things didn't go the tag champs way last show is an understatement. They requested a handicap match to get set back on their winning ways. King agreed, but didn't want them to just coast to a win! The solution? Send them the killer formerly known as Silent. Silent agreed, but only if the match was made no DQ. Expect blood kids, lots and lots of it. Hell, there just might be a Connect Four spot. Rules - No disqualification, all three men in the ring at once. The ref is just there to count pinfalls and submissions. Match must end in the ring. Word Limit: 4000 Send to - Edwin MacPhisto ICTV Title Match Mak "The Franchise" Francis v. Jay Dawg Mak was demolished again, proving just one more time that he is the embarassment to the title that King claims he is. Jay Dawg was, how to put it tactfully, a surprise washout from the tournament. JD clamored for a chance to prove himself, and King in his infinite mercy granted it. Let's see how Mak does in an actual title defense! Rules - Standard singles match Word Limit - 5000 Send to - Grand Slam Hardcore Title Match WildChild © v. "The Sinner" John Duran The Bahama Bomber won on Smarkdown, and showed that he hasn't lost his spark while in service to the US Champ. Duran is more than a little upset with the Hardcore Gamers Champ, who he feels cost him his chance at the World Title. Throw in WC's keeper, the very treacherous Ejiro Fasaki (not scheduled for a match tonight) and this match could go any number of ways. God help Wildchild. Rules - Hardcore. Word Limit - 5500 Send to - chirs 3 And your Double Main Event! Losers' Bracket Final Match Special Guest Commentator: "The King of Nightmares" Michael Craven Apostle vs. "The Judge" William Hearford Apostle has continued his dream ride, such as it is, finding himself only one match away from the tournament finals! And he's only a JLer! Judge has fought all the way back from a first round loss in the winner's bracket, and he is now on the threshold of greatness! Who will advance to face Craven for a chance at the belt, and will Craven have anything to say about it? Rules - Standard Singles Match Word Limit - 6000 Send to - Grand Slam World Title "I Quit" Match "The Superior One" Tom Flesher vs. The Boston Strangler Just a little history here. Flesher and Danny Williams were both promised title matches, but with Danny's injury only Flesher remains. He has elected to take his match now, so that he can headline Genesis as he is destined to do! Enter one very determined champion who remember falling to Flesher before. With all the pride and arrogance going into that ring, we'll be amazed if someone isn't carried out on a stretcher! Both men wanted a straight up wrestling match, but King wanted something a little more... final. Rules - No DQ, no countout, no pinfalls, no submissions. The only way to win is to make your opponent audibly say "I quit" into a microphone so that the arena audience can hear it. Microphones will be everywhere as needed. Word Limit - 6000 Send to - Edwin MacPhisto Suddenly the SmarkTron flares into life with a long shot of the parking lot. The centre of the shot is the prized possession and most stylish ride in the SWF, the Magnificent Seven stretch Lincoln Continental limousine. The limo is in pristine condition, decked out with Mag 7 livery, and the in car TV Screen is hooked up to a concealed X-Box, currently flashing through the introductory demo at the start of SWF Storm. Riley: Ahh some true class to liven up the show. That is one beautiful ride. Comet: Yes Citizen Riley, but what is it doing on our screens? Riley: Well.. umm.. I don’t know. Comet: And what’s that massive shadow being cast over the limousine? The question is answered in small, easy to chew pieces as the HUMONGOUS front tires of a black monster truck peeks into shot, followed quickly by the black bonnet, decked out in the familiar flaming red triangle logo of… Riley: The Unholy Trinity! They have to be up to no good. The camera pans up to the cockpit of this beastly machine where behind the wheel of the gigantic, roided up, son of a juggernaut truck is the scowling face of the Maori Badass himself, Va’aiga, and sitting in the passenger seat, throwing the horns to the crowd through the window is his tag team partner Dace Night. TRI-NI-TY! TRI-NI-TY! Comet: You know Robert, I wonder if the so called Magnificent ones have a fully comprehensive insurance policy. Or at least third party, fire and vengeful Maori psychopath. A sickening crunch fills the arena as the truck drives slowly forward, first crushing the bonnet of the limousine. Then the front section. A dividing wall collapses a little slow and then the is a steady stream of water as the truck busts the in-car swimming pool, fitted after the reduction of the Mag 7 to three members. Finally the sound of shattering glass as the spare champagne store, possibly ready to celebrate Tom Flesher’s possible title win, and the ’72 Dom Perrignon Special Reserve floods out onto the floor. Riley: They… destroyed… the... limo. Comet: This could make the evening seem a little flat. Or maybe just the limousine. Meanwhile out in the lot Ben Hardy rushes up to the Unholy Trinity pair as they get out of their monstrous truck. Hardy: Dace Night, you just destroyed the Magnificent Seven Limousine. What have you got to say about this? Dace: I’m a reasonable man Ben. I don’t take out random acts of vengeance on people who insult me or graffiti up my ride. The Maori here. Well he’s got a different view to me. Now get out of my way, we’ve got a match up next. Hardy: Va’aiga. Any comments? Va’aiga: BOO-YAH! The pair walk off into the arena. Fade To Commercials.

This semester is on tap to be one of my better ones thus far. The line-up: Advanced Fiction Writing Vladimir Nabokov Culture of Broadway Contemporary Interethnic Fiction Evil in Modernity I love my English major. This semester I also have no classes larger than 45 people, which is a big switch. I usually land at least one or two big anonymous lectures. So far, it's a pleasant setup. I am the seminar king.

Saturnmark, when you do go see him, do whatever is necessary to get yourself onstage with the band. It is an absolute ridiculous, beautiful rush, and the band seems to tell security to ease off and encourage fans to join them. The first time I saw him was a religious experience. This second time was an even better religious experience. Hoo diddly.

I dunno, it'd work for me. I mean, you're just swapping P's for T's. It's like trading in a ham for a baby.

Yeah, I certainly don't mean to pigeonhole him because that's one of the things he does least often. Still, when they pull off the harder street-tales type stuff--like "Red Velvet" and "Gangsta Shit"--I tend to see him and his verses as the driving forces. I think it's partly because he does it as you say--he's not a typical gangster type rapper and brings a lot, LOT more to the table even when he's addressing pedestrian themes. And I don't think I've ever heard him or Dre says bling-bling, god bless em.

Well, I'm not sure if CC is supposed to be nominating here or what, but I wanted to mention Z's minor epic, The Luvin' Spoonful, a January venture that took him like a week or something to write. It is the lost Carnie epic, one of the last high points of the stable before it melted. Too bad he and Kibs never really got the feud going as well as they wanted, but still: grand promo, insanely funny, and good with characters to boot. YOU JUST WANTED THE NARRATION TO STOP YELLING, MY BAD indeed.

Thugg, what are you talking about? I see nothing wrong with Strangler's second. Maybe you should take a little closer look and see what he's actually seconding. Da "moddy moddy mod skills" E

Janus nominates Tom/Thoth for the world title. Zing!

Janus, Tom/Thoth was not a PPV match, but it certainly was pretty sweet. I'm moving your post/nomination to the other thread. Zing!

He's the kooky one, Dre is. Big Boi gets kooky but covers the gangsta parts too. I generally like Dre's delivery a little better, but Big Boi is nothing to scoff at. I'm really excited to see how they each hold up on their own. Did I mention I can't frickin' wait until September 23rd? I check release dates every day in the fear that they'll push it back again. I am a sad panda.

Mak's obviously aspiring to be like MEEE! I like that you addressed Mak's age. I often forget that he's one of the youngest competitors in the fed and it can be a crucial hook into his character. This feels good and I do believe it works as setup quite well.

You're nuts. I love "The Way You Move," but "Hey Ya" is the best song of 2003. I can't wait for the album, especially since Dre's disc is supposed to be very much unlike anything he's done before.

I noticed that while marking, Dace, and liked it much. That was one of the cool parallels you guys pulled out. I also had a response to one of Johnny's thoughts about the King/Mark/Thugg angle: I wondered this a bit too, but reading between the lines I guessed it was mostly that he was worried about what King could do back to him. He hasn't hesitated to threaten or get involved in Mark's family life before and I think Grand Slam just had to wait until he had some leverage and a way to effectively get back at King. As a reader, I sort of agree with you there. Mark coming back was big enough for tonight, and it would have been cool to have the challenge on a different show. Still, I think the history and inevitable tension between Mark and Thugg will be enough to carry some of the open space in this story. Then there's also the fact that there's something like only 3 shows before Genesis...I'm gonna call it a coin toss. I do like this angle though. Makes me all warm and retro-fuzzy.

Andrew WK, "Victory Strikes Again." The man has an uncanny mastery of words and capitalization.

I'm debating whether the best moment was the Pope of Chillytown or the fact that a Honda Civic was the biggest rental car.