chirs3

Handicap Match WBTBEIISHAWFIWTDNAIWTD.

JJ vs. Mirror Max TBEI.

JJ Johnson sits in his locker room, lacing up his boots prior to his hardcore match with Mirror Max. However, the Canadian’s preparations are disturbed by a grinding noise coming from his bag - Mastodon loses a little something in the translation to being a ringtone, but Johnson knows what he likes. He pulls out his cellphone, frowns at the unfamiliar number, then flips it open. “Who’s this?” Mr. Cold Front Classic rasps. … “What do you want?” … … “Again?” … … “It damn well better had be different,” Johnson snorts. … “I’ll think about it.” … “I said, I’ll think about it,” the Canadian Murder Machine declares, then snaps his phone shut before tossing it back into his bag. He goes back to lacing up his boots. But he does stop now and then to look at his bag thoughtfully. FADE OUT

“The following contest is a Cruiserweight Four Corners Elimination Match!” Funyon tells the crowd, causing a reaction. The lights turn pitch black and a spotlight shines onto the beginning of the entrance ramp. “It’s a wonderful place, oh what a wonderful place … For you … …For you … …For you… not me …” BOOM! Pyros explode and red and gold stars rise to the ceiling as the music changes to a fasster song, with the lights acting in correlation. Austin Sky steps out onto the entrance way to a chorus of boos. “Why does this guy always look pissed about something?” Mak Francis asks. “He’s probably mad he had to come out first,” Suicide King laughs. “No one’s gonna top this entrance.” “Introducing the participants!” Funyon bellows. “First, from St. Louis, Missouri, weighing in at 230 lbs., AUSTIN SLY!” Austin rolls under the ring and paces it before finding a corner, then removing his trenchcoat and carefully hanging it on the ringpost. He gets back to the center of the ring and stares down the entrance way. LOUD, BOUNCY TECHNO MUSIC plays as a red flash fills the arena. The Fabulous Jakey appears from the arena, wearing a banana boat yellow blazer over his jersey and track pants. “That coat reminds me of my father’s El Camino!” Suicide King cries. “The flashy, the fabulous one is becoming more arrogant every week!” Mak Francis observes. “Making his way to the ring, from Minneapolis, Minnesota, weighing in at 160 pounds, THE FABULOUS JAKEY!” Jakey walks to the ring with no sense of hurry, then walks up the steps and goes in through the ropes. He stands in the center of the ring and raises both arms in open palms, then removes is blazer. He then walks to the same corner where Sly has his coat placed. “And I think Jakey was planning on putting his coat where Sly did,” Mak Francis notes. Sly yells at Jakey and asks what he’s doing and Jakey is shaking his head, seemingly telling Sly that he should have known better. Jakey callously throws Sly’s coat off of the ring and at him before beginning to hang up HIS coat in the corner. Sly turns Jakey around and they start having a war of words. “And this match hasn’t even started yet!” Mack cries. “We’ve got two more entrances to go!” Sly pokes Jakey in the chest with enough force that he moves back into the corner. Jakey comes back and hits Sly with a BITCHSLAP. Before Sly can respond, all of the lights turn off and an awful warbling sound emanates from the arena. “And here comes the third participant!” Mack yells. “Scientific Remote Viewing” by Cephalic Carnage plays as flashing strobes make their presence felt and smoke comes from the stage. “Introducing: From Denver, Colorado, weighing in at 230 pounds, MANSON!” Manson emerges from the curtain, with his metal baseball bat and chains accompanying him. Jakey and Sly are now both out of the ring at opposite corners, watching this strange man get into the ring. Manson slides in underneath the bottom rope and stands into his corner, then flips the bat over the top rope. He removes his mask, placing it over the turnbuckle post (mercifully, this is not the same corner that Sly and Jakey were fighting over). Manson removes his cloak and drapes it over the post, then stares daggers into Sly and Jakey. “And both Austin Sly and The Fabulous Jakey not very eager to get into the ring here,” Mack Francis says. Alice in Chains begins playing and red and black pyrotechnics go off. The crowd instantly rises as their wrestler is here. “And finally!” Funyon yells over the ovation. “From Easton, Pennsylvania, weighing in at 223 pounds, YOUR INSANE LUCHADOR!” The Insane Luchador sprints down the aisle, hi-fiving fans on his way. He has the crowd advantage and knows it. IL slides under the ropes and stares at Manson with a sadistic grin. Jakey and Sly slowly but surely get on the apron to grab their corresponding tag ropes. “And the structure of the match will have two men start in the ring,” Mak explains to the home audience, “Here it looks to be the Luchador and Manson. The other two men will tag in and out until an elimination, in which the match will change to Triple Threat rules before a one-on-one encounter.” “That’s why they pay you the big bucks, Mak Francis!” Suicide King cries. Manson and Luchador stare each other down before Luchador takes the initiative, charging Manson into the corner and striking him relentlessly. Referee Sexton Hardcastle calls for a clean break, and Luchador grants Manson one, but Manson quickly clotheslines him. Manson angrily stomps on Luchador, then throws him into Austin Sly’s corner. Manson tags in Austin Sly and they both grab the Luchador. “And already we’re seeing a double-team!” Mak cries. Manson grabs Luchador in what appears to be a backbreaker and Sly takes to the top rope, hitting a leg drop across Lucha’s neck with full authority. “And Luchador could find himself out of here right away!” Mak cries as Sly covers for the pin. ONE— TWO— And Lucha kicks out because I’m not that lazy. Sly stomps on the legs of Luchador, causing him and the audience to wince. “And a smart move there, get the high-flyer’s legs,” Mak notes. Sly taunts the crowd (something like a “What are you gonna do about it?”), then picks up Luchador and throws him into the corner of trenchcoats. Sly goes for a running charge, but Luchador kicks him in the jaw, then scores a bulldog. With the momentum of the crowd behind him, Lucha runs to Jakey’s corner and piefaces him onto the apron for really no reason … “What was the meaning of that?” Suicide King yells. …And Sly is up to his feet, but Luchador has speed going and hits him with a running cross body. “A cross body! ONE— TWO— Sly kicks out of it and gets back to his feet, but Luchador kicks him in the gut and runs off the ropes, but Manson kicks Luchador in the back before he can attempt anything. Sly takes this to advantage, going back to work on Lucha’s lower body with kicks. Sly tags Manson in again and the two of them hoist Luchador in the air. “And what are they gonna do here?” Mak cries. The question is answered with a DOUBLE SHOULDERBREAKER that incapacitates Luchador to the ground. Manson doesn’t go for the cover this time, but instead mounts Luchador and starts violently punching him in the face. The ref counts after five and scolds Manson, who then delivers a blatant choke. “C’mon, ref, that’s a choke!” Mack yells. Manson relents at five, but then gives the Luchador one last punch. “And the Insane Luchador has really taken most of the punishment in this match so far!” Mack cries. Manson picks up Luchador and throws him into the corner, then assails him with a violent chop to the chest. And another. Manson takes his time before going for another one, and it’s the second that makes all the difference, because Lucha quickly reverses their positions, getting Manson into the corner and delivering a violent plethora of kicks to his midsection. “And Luchador, getting his second wind here!” Luchador goes up top and scores a Monkey Flip on Manson, then hits him with a Flying Knee, grabbing Manson’s head to make the blow more devastating. Luchador yells for the crowd and they cheer for him, and he then ascends to the top rope in a Moonsault position. “The Insane Luchador going up top!” Mack cries. “Is he gonna hit it?” Luchador hits a beautiful Moonsault and lands right on the midsection of Manson. “The Moonsault connects!” Mack cries. ONE – TWO – “And Manson kicks out of it!” Luchador, struggling, picks Manson up and throws him off the ropes, but both men have the same idea and they clothesline each other, causing them both to fall to the mat. “Maybe they should try to make a tag here,” Mack asserts. “Absolutely!” Suicide King agrees. “And it doesn’t matter who they tag as this isn’t a tag match, although you wouldn’t know that watching Manson and Austin Sly earlier in this match!” But as Suicide King says that, Manson begins to crawl toward Jakey’s corner while Luchador is crawling toward Sly. Sly, always up for a fight, as his arm extended, while Jakey, who has yet to tag in, watches with interest. “Who’s gonna make their tag first?” Mack cries. Manson, crawling on his knees, gets to Jakey’s corner and reaches his hand out, but Jakey jumps off the apron. “What the hell?!” Mack yells. Luchador makes the tag to Austin Sly, who takes advantage of the situation and violently dropkicks Manson in the back, sending him face-first into the turnbuckle. Before Manson can respond, Sly craftily rolls him up. “The roll-up! ONE— TWO— THREE!” “And Manson has been eliminated! Jakey perhaps using some cold strategy there, but now this is down to a triple threat!” Sly yells at Jakey and tells him to get in the ring, saying something along the lines of “I did the work for you, get your ass in the ring!” but Jakey just glares at him. Sly continues yelling, only to turn around into an Implant DDT by Luchador, who is back in the thick of it. “What a DDT!” Mack cries. Luchador ascends to the top rope for the second time of the match, but this time he’s in a position facing the opponent. Achieving great elevation, Luchador lands a LEG DROP from the top rope, with his leg making the impact right on Austin Sly’s neck. “Right on the neck! The cover!” Mack cries. ONE – TWO – Austin Sly kicks out of it, but Luchador quickly regains control and scores with rights and lefts. Luchador throws Sly off the ropes, but makes the mistake of putting his head down and Sly hits a DDT with great impact. Sly kicks Luchador around a little bit in order to get him closer to the corner, then ascends to the top rope. “And Sly only goes to the top rope in desperation!” Mack cries. The Luchador gets a quick wind and grabs the ropes, leaving Sly to be crotched on the top rope. “And perhaps that’s why!” Mack finishes. With Sly wincing in pain, the Luchador goes up top to attempt a suplex, but Sly stays firm and fights him off, before Luchador musters up the strength to hit the superplex. Both men lay on their backs within close proximity to each other “Beautiful superplex! Both men down!” Mack Francis cries. “DON’T TELL ME!” Suicide King yells. Jakey crawls into the ring and drags Luchador just a bit closer to Sly, then hits a standing splash across both men. “Not this way!” Mack cries in cliched fashion. “ONE— TWO— THREE!” “I’m gonna be sick!” Francis cries. “Here is your winner, THE FABULOUS JAKEY!” “Jakey didn’t deliver one offensive move this entire match, and yet he finds himself one step closer to the Cruiserweight Title!” Mack cries. “This is an abomination!” You can say that again ….

Announcer#1: What A match we have up and coming. The New Comer JRR attempts to make a name for himself here in SWF by taking on " The Paladin" Chance Silver. This will be the debut for both of them and I am very interested in seeing what both these men can dish out tonight. Announcer#2: Well in my oppinion, i saw JRR in the locker room before the show and he was looking pretty determined to win this match. I feel that he will be a very important superstar that we should keep an eye on in the future. "Click! Click! Boom!" Announcer#1: And here we go JRR is on his way to the ring. Those pyros get to me everytime. ring announcer: Coming to the ring at 6'4 weighing in at 230 pounds residing in Carteret, New Jersey.... J..R..R! Announcer#1: Chance Silver is already at the ring awaiting his challenger JRR, and the match begins. Announcer#2: JRR immediatly lungs at Chance and they are tied up in the middle of the ring. JRR goes for an armdrag but Chance rolls out of it and Irish Whips JRR into the turnbuckle. Announcer#1: Chance is tossing lefts and rights right into JRR's forhead, wait JRR manages to pick him up carrying him to the middle of the ring where he double hand chokslams him back onto the mat. JRR has Chance in a headlock dead center of the ring Chance is in trouble.. JRR releases one hand and punches Chance's head, JRR looks like he has this match no oh wait, no, Chance is trying to free himself. Announcer#2: JRR still has Chance in a headlock and turns it into a neckbreaker. Once again JRR has his opponent face-up on the mat, JRR runs against the ropes for speed and then Legdrops Chance, he gets up and trys again this time Chance rolls away and dropkicks JRR to the mat. Chance has JRR in a rear headlock and begins to work on JRR's head. Announcer#1: Chance is really applying a ton of pressure on JRR's head, if only he can reach the ropes. Oh wait, that is exactly what he has done, Chance frees the hold and begins stomping on his back and dropping a few elbow drops to the lower back. Chance drags JRR to the middle of the ring where he once again trys for a headlock but JRR reverses and throws a few left and rights of his own. JRR whips him into the ropes and on the rebound catches him in a headlock and works Chance's body to the ground. Chance is trying to free himself. Announcer#2: Chance is elbowing JRR in the chest and has freed himself..Whats this... OHHH JRR has just been layed out by a body press. Chance is signaling for JRR to get up. JRR is slowly rising to his feet, Chance is going for the spear! JRR jumps over Chance and runs up to the top of the turnbuckle and OHHH! JRR has just nailed Chance with a flying clothsline! The crowd has begun to stand now, the fans are beginning to cheer JRR on! Whats this...JRR Jackhammers Chance and you know what this means he is setting up for the Redline! Announcer#1: he's got Chance in position for the Redline and now Chance is up in the air. Wait Chance reverses and spins JRR around and DDTs him. Both superstars are now both on the mat. The Ref begins to count but instead, Chance kip-up. He's calling for the spear again and What luck, JRR is getting up in the opposite corner. Announcer#2: JRR is up now with his back turned to Chance, JRR turns around and Chance begins running toward JRR. BOOM! JRR countered with the Powerpop, a modified version of the STO. Announcer#1: The crowd is going wild! JRR covers Chance's body..1..2..3!! Ding Ding Ding Ring announcer: Here's your winner J..R..R! Announcer#1: What a match, JRR came to the ring determined and kept his eye on the prize and took what was his. I agree with you now, We deffinitly need to keep an eye on this rising Superstar in the future.

The opening credits for Storm (which I presume we have by now) fade and we're sent on a whirlwind ride around the Plaza de Toros to give the Venezulan fans their fifteen minutes of fame. And when we say fifteen minutes, we mean it, the odds of Venezula ever having another wrestling show eminate from it's fair shores are slim at best lets be honest. So the natives make the most of the camera, rising to their feet and cheering uproariously for no particular reason other than it being the thing to do. "Welcome to SWF Storm, live from Mérida in sunny Venezula!" announce Mak, anticipating the audience's reaction with a follow-up "Nope, never heard of it either. But wherever we're at we're promised a great night of SWF action with not one but TWO main events on tap!" "Stupid marketing technique." moans Suicide King, determined to get a word in. "How can you have two main-events anyway?" "When you've got four great athletes in action, just like we have tonight! We've also got some interesting matches on tap which haven't been given the honour of being called 'main event numbers 6 and 7' but should be excellent matches nonetheless, assuming all the planes landed on time." "Which is never a given." "True. But before we get to the action, one person who didn't have to worry about plane schedules and travel expenses is our new World Heavyweight Champion Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix, who is otherwise engaged dealing with advertising commitments back in the US. Such are the perks of being World Champion. So, we sent a camera along to catch up with the World Champion and get his first comments since his victory at From The Fire. Without any further ado, let's take a look at what he had to say..." *STAR-WIPE* Sat in what seems to be a trailer, the movie kind rather than the redneck variety, Landon Maddix kicks back in his seat and rests his hands behind his head. His SWF World Title belt hangs across his chest and a not-so subtle can of Pepsi Max rests in his right hand. With Megan Skye sat in the seat next to him, Landon arches his sunglasses across his forehead and breaks out a cheesy smile ready for promo time. Off screen sits a nameless interview, which we only know because his voice suddenly pipes up. "So, Landon, congratulations on your victory at From The Fire." Apparantly, this nameless interview is well-prepped in the arts of sugaring up his interviewees. "Well thank you. It's good to be the Champ again, holding the belt that matters." Landon adds, in a not so subtle shot to everyone on the roster who isn't World Champion. I.e everybody. "Unfortunately you're not able to make it to the show tonight, what did you want to say to the SWF fans at this time?" "I think the SWF fans know me well enough by now to know what to expect me to say. Let's be honest, I'm not the most complex of people. A bit of bragging, couple of told ya so's, standard stuff really. And far be it from me to disappoint them all, because let's face it, I DID tell everybody so! The stipulation myself and Megan came up with proved to be the right one in the end, even if right now my back and neck don't quite agree. I avenged my last From The Fire main event defeat. I beat Gabriel Drake again. Pretty much as planned. Okay, so it wasn't quite the gentile run-in to From The Fire that I was expecting between a confident, proud champion and a plucky young, good-looking, virile challenger engaging in pure competition. There were a few bumps and potholes in the road to From The Fire. But hey, that's wrestling for ya! What matters is what you see before you, Landon Maddix with the World Heavyweight Championship." Landon pats his title belt for added emphasis. "So, how does it feel to be the World Champion for the third time?" "Well it's been a good week or two all in all. A World Title win, a big victory in a certain company that shall not be named, the opportunity to shoot this commercial with the great people at Pepsi." *Pause for effect.* "Like I say, the run in to From The Fire wasn't the greatest time in my life but right now, I feel on top of the world. More so than even during my last two title reigns. I feel like finally I can relax and enjoy being the World Champion now, something I haven't really gotten chance to before. Plus, there's been a little more time to... uhm... 'celebrate'." Landon winks at Megan, prompting some nervous shuffling from the interview behind the camera. "Okay, uhm... what does the future hold now? What's next for Landon Maddix?" "Well I'll be back live next week on Storm at..." Landon pauses for a moment as the cogs whirr in his head. "...uh, wherever the heck the show's gonna be next week. Hopefully somewhere in the real world. It's hard enough travelling from one company to the other on this planter, let alone between universes. Anyway, I'll be there live and hopefully by then, we'll have worked out what's next for Landon Maddix." "Any ideas on who your next challenger will be?" "Hey, take your pick!" shrugs Landon. "Virtually everybody on the roster's got some sort of a problem with me nowadays. One of the perks of being here so long I guess. Again, we'll find out next week. Let's leave it at that for now." "And The Galacticos? What does the future lie in store for you as a team?" "To be honest, I think the ship has sailed on that one." Landon says as diplomatically as possible, being in PR mode and all. "You know, it was a great ride and we had a successful run together, more than I ever guessed we could have. Us Two Skinny White Guys, I think we proved a lot of people wrong, to coin a phrase. But things change, life moves on. Right now it's best for us to go our seperate ways. But I wish Mike... Toxxic... whatever the hell he thinks people should call him nowadays, I wish him the best with whatever it is he's going to be doing without yours truly by his side. I'm sure he'll do okay without me." "Okay, any final words to anyone who might be watching?" "I suppose 'You want some, come get some' would be too corny. Then again, aren't all catchphrases? How about 'watch Storm next week'. 'And buy Pepsi Max'. Yeah. That works." "Landon, thanks for your time." "No problem. Thanks for the commercial gig." "..." *ANOTHERSTAR-WIPE* "Wow. The idiot can't even illegally advertise without screwing it up." "I don't know what you're talking about King. *ringpull* Landon earnt the commercial. After all, he's been drinking delicious, crisp Pepsi Max on our shows for months. As have I. *sound of soda chugging* Aaaaaah... delicious!" "You disgust me." "We can't all rake in revenue from our own stadiums King. In any event, Landon Maddix is here next week and apparantly we'll find out who's going to be in line for a shot at his World Championship. Until then, we've got action this week so let's go to the ring..."

The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation Presents... SWF STORM! Live, April 11th, from the sold-out Plaza de Toros in Mérida, Venezuela! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- MAIN EVENT #1 Wildchild © vs. "The Beast" Gabriel Drake ---> Both the Wildchild and the Beast had their endurance put to the test at From the Fire - one in a two-fall Hardcore/Cruiser bout, and the other in an absolutely brutal ladder match. They've each had some time to rest up, but given what they went through, was it enough? Two of the toughest the SWF has to offer lock horns in an arena suited to that very purpose, each looking to avenge their losses at From the Fire! Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 6000 Send to: Ace309 MAIN EVENT #2 Johnny Dangerous © vs. "Deathwish" Danny Williams ---> Two men trying to climb back to the top of the mountain - both of whom fell back a few rungs at From the Fire. Both get the chance to turn things around on Storm, but unfortunately, only one can succeed. Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 6000 Send to: Justice HANDICAP MATCH The Cadillac Boys (Zack Malibu and Calvin Szechstein) vs. Jimmy the Doom ©© ---> Jimmy the Doom dashed the Championship dreams of Calvin Szechstein twice in one night, at From the Fire! And now that everyone's favorite Doomtopian is toting around twice the gold, it's only fitting he take on twice the workload! Calvin gets a chance to take out his aggression on Jimmy the Doom, and his partner Zack Malibu is along for the ride! Can Jimmy overcome the Cadillac Boys on his own, or will he... um... lose? Rules: Caddyboys get one man in at a time. TAG ROPES OR DIE. Word Limit: 5000 Send to: chirs3 HRADCORE MATCH JJ Johnson vs. Mirror Max ---> As four Cruisers duke it out for a shot at one of Jimmy's title, we're pitting these two against each other to try and weed our a contender for the Doomtopian's other title! Defenses a plenty coming for Jimmy, one of which will be against the winner of this match! Rules: HRADCORE. I'm pretty sure that's the same as Hardcore, but look it up to be sure. Word Limit: 5000 Send to: Muzz THE RETURN OF THE LAME-MONIKER FOURWAY MANSON vs. Insane Luchador vs. Austin Sly vs. The Fabulous Jakey ---> It occurs to me that the last time we tried to have the big Patron Wrestler of Athens vs. The Seoul Survivor showdown, things didn't happen quite according to plan. That's a fire that needs rekindling, but why stop there? Let's add someone new to the fray, and sweeten the pot. Four SWF Cruiserweights enter this battle - the one who survives will henceforth be known as The Head Honcho...nchon... They will go on to face The Patron Wrestler and Seoul Survivor on the next show - the winner of that bout will earn a shot at the SWF Cruiserweight Championship! Rules: Two men in, two men out, tags can be made at any time. Elimination style. Word Limit: 5000 Send to: chirs3 SUPER DEBUT OF EPIC PROPORTIONITUDE JRR vs. "The Paladin" Chance Silver ---> I think I've used the "Ahh, fresh meat!" Butcher quote a few too many times now... fresh fish? Fresh... Freshman... no... I've got nothing. So humorless witticisms aside, we've got a welcome new face in the SWF's ranks - JRR makes his debut against the... well, the just plain creepy Paladin. Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 2500. Send to: chirs3 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Apologies for the lateness - as usual, all blame rests upon me and my being a procrastinating jerk. Please direct all hate, fury, flaming bags of dog poop, and concentrated beams of MANSONOSITY in my direction.

Mucho apologies for the lateness, which was entirely my fault. I was supposed to write the recap segments on my lunch break at work, but I somehow managed to forget my laptop. Go figure. Card's in the works as we speak.

And after many stupid quotation glitches, the final promo has been added.

“Heeeeeeeeeeey! Champ!” Of all the receptions Landon Maddix was expecting, this surely wasn’t it. Landon, still a little battered and beaten from the gruelling and punishing ladder match against Gabriel Drake last Wednesday in Australia, starts in surprise as Toxxic appears out of nowhere and claps him heavily on the back in apparently genuine enthusiasm. Genuine enthusiasm that mildly stings, mind you. “Ow…” “Soz man,” Toxxic apologises, flashing a grin at Megan Skye which the blonde manageress responds to with a wary glance. It takes a lot of time to get used to trusting someone who ambushed you and tied you up with duct tape in a closet as a way to get at your client, especially when a similar event happened recently in the same city. “Anyway,” the Straight-Edge Sensation continues, “congrats on the win mate, excellent work, excellent work.” “Thanks,” Landon says, shuffling the bright, shiny World Title belt on his shoulder in what might just be a way vaguely calculated to rub a little something in for his partner, “nice going with Danny as well.” He looks at Toxxic sideways for a moment, as if trying to judge something. The Englishman looks stable enough, despite a rather uncharacteristic cheeriness… “What’re you looking at me like that for?” Toxxic asks, tilting his head to one side. “Uh… well, I was wondering how your head was…” Landon says. Toxxic grins. “Mild concussion, nothing more, I should be good to go by next week,” the straight-edger replies, then looks more serious again. “You sure that was all?” “Well, there was that whole ‘three Caffeine Bombs, including one off some steps’ thing,” Maddix admits, turning to face the Englishman more fully. “I mean, what was up with that?” “Er, did you see the match? You know, at all?” Stephens asks incredulously. “The big bastard wouldn’t stay down! I had to do something, otherwise we’d have been out there all night!” “And of course, you couldn’t lift him for the Dangerlust,” Maddix nods. Toxxic nods in reply… then abruptly focuses on Maddix’s face. “What?” “Nothing, nothing,” Landon backs and fills, but Toxxic isn’t fooled. “Come on Landon, don’t give me that,” he demands, “you’ve got something to say, spit it out.” “OK, so what happened?” Landon says, just a little forcefully, “when did the whole ‘tree-hugging hippie’ crap disappear? Damn it Mike, you were pulling a goodie-goodie-two-shoes routine right through our World Title match, but now you’re telling me you’d have hit Danny with the move that’s broken a couple of people’s necks in a match that got set up simply because you decided you didn’t want him here, and he didn’t like you spitting in his face?” Maddix folds his arms and stares at the Englishman. “Call me crazy, but I’m finding it difficult to reconcile those two.” “Excuse me?” Toxxic asks in apparently genuine surprise, “are you saying you’re jealous?” “Well, no-” “Landon, I went out there on the House of Marvellous and told everyone exactly what I’d done and why, and why I wasn’t doing it anymore!” Toxxic exclaims. “Now, I know you might have been busy trying to make sure Megan was safe for the Street Fight that night, or doing your hair or something, but I’d have thought you’d at least have caught the drift of it,” he adds, noting how Landon’s jaw clenches at the mention of his (failed) attempt to keep his manager out of harm’s way. Maddix points his index finger at the Englishman - not tapping him on the chest, yet, but he definitely isn’t happy. “Yeah, I saw it,” he tells Toxxic, “and I wasn’t really impressed. How could you go out there and blame all the fans for what you’ve decided to do?” “You blamed me for everything you did last year,” Toxxic replies, steel-grey gaze steady, “so you tell me.” Landon sighs, and tries to get the conversation back on track. “Look, I just want to know who my tag partner is,” he tells Toxxic, “and what he’s going to do.” “Just wind your memory back a couple of years,” Toxxic replies, “you’ll catch on. I mean, hello? Wildchild? Chokeslam?” He vaguely mimes throwing someone downward with one hand. “Bloody hell, I’d have thought that was a hint that opponent welfare wasn’t exactly at the top of my list of priorities anymore because, well, I realised that my welfare wasn’t at the top of anyone’s list of priorities.” He crosses his arms, then brightens. “That reminds me. When are we going after Wimp and Dangermouse again?” “Say what?” Landon asks, a little caught out by the change of pace. “Come on,” Toxxic gushes, enthused again, “we both won, they both lost - I mean technically Wildchild lost twice, which is just hilarious - they’ve gotta be on a low ebb, we can get a Tag Title shot and get those belts back no problem. It’ll be a piece of cake.” Maddix opens his mouth to reply, then pauses. There is something to what the Englishman says, after all, a certain logic that is not without its own appeal… but then his resolve hardens. He suspected something like this might make an appearance in any conversation they had, although he had wondered if his tag partner would deign speak to him at all, whether the World Title would come between them. “No.” “What?” Toxxic asks, shocked, “why not?” Once more, Maddix hesitates, uncertain whether or not to run with the truth. Then he shrugs his shoulders. He’s the World Heavyweight Champion, a three-time World Heavyweight Champion at that. If you can’t speak your mind when you’re recognised as the best wrestler in the world, when can you? “Because you’re turning into a loose cannon, Mike,” he tells the straight-edger. “You’re running around starting fights wherever you go; I mean,” he continues, “Danny’s probably still mad at you, worse than before. If you ever see Janus you’re going to go ballistic, I know it. I can’t believe you’re content to leave things lie with Drake,” he carries on, checking things off on his fingers, “and you made Wild and Dangerous pretty much want to kill you a few weeks ago. Then there’s the fact that Tom still hates your guts, but since you beat Danny he probably can’t pretend you don’t exist anymore…” he stops and looks into his partner’s face. “I’ve had to go onto a second hand just to count the people you’re likely to start fights with. Doesn’t that tell you something?” “Well, maybe,” Stephens concedes, “but-” “But nothing,” Landon cuts him off, “yeah, we made a good tag team, but if I’m going to be tagging with you I need to be watching out for you so you can watch out for me, and I can’t look six ways at once! Things with you need to change. You see this?” he continues, this time making the shifting of the title on his shoulder conspicuous and taking Toxxic’s expression as confirmation, “I’ve held this twice before Mike, and both times I didn’t give it the respect it deserved because of you.” “How the hell-” Toxxic starts, but Landon cuts him off again. “The first time I was so pleased I’d taken it from you I never bothered thinking about anything else, and then Sacred took it off me!” he snaps, “and the second time I didn’t pay much attention to it because I was too busy trying to lure you back to the company!” “What, and that was my fault?” Toxxic demands. “No,” Landon says, shaking his head, “it was mine. But that doesn’t mean I want to screw things up a third time. I’m not going to be distracted. If you weren’t being such an asshole to everyone in sight then maybe, but as it is… no.” He looks Toxxic in the face. “Sorry, Mike.” “Riiiiiiiight,” Toxxic says, folding his arms, “so that’s how it is, is it? Tag with me until you get the big one, then break up the team because it doesn’t suit you anymore?” His steel-grey eyes narrow, and suddenly the Englishman’s expression is a lot less pleasant. “You know what, Landon? It occurs to me that maybe if you don’t want to be distracted by my presence as a partner, maybe you should be distracted by my presence as a rival. After all,” he says, “I’ve just beaten the only other four-time World Champion around. I think I’m back on track.” “I thought you might say that,” Landon nods. “No.” Toxxic’s eyebrows raise. “There’s still a few details to tie up,” Maddix admits, nodding towards Megan (who is not without a slight smirk), “but I’ve spoken with Flesher and a few other people concerned. We’ve got something in the works. And I’m sorry Mike, but it doesn’t involve you.” “Ah, so now it really comes out,” Toxxic says, grey eyes flinty, “you don’t just want to break up the team, you want to block my way to the title. Landon, I’m really starting to like you less and less about now.” “Well, if you’re going to put it like that,” Maddix retorts, “didn’t we agree we’d never face each other in the ring again? That’s why Peters put us in that tag team to start with, isn’t it, so he could have us in the ring together? But now all of a sudden it’s the other way around, I’ve got the World Title and you haven’t, so you’re itching for Maddix vs. Toxxic Part…” he stops and thinks for a moment, “…Four?” “Bloody hell Landon, that was nine months ago!” Toxxic blurts out, “things have changed since then! You’re not psychotic anymore, for one,” he adds. Landon grimaces - his actions back then still seem somewhat alien to him now - but then he squares his shoulders. “Mike, when you came back last year you didn’t come straight after me,” he reminds the Englishman, “because you said that Amy had decided to start a fight with me and it was her business if she couldn’t win it. This is just the same thing. That second tag match with Wild and Dangerous nearly hurt me bad enough that I couldn’t compete at From The Fire, and they were mad at you. I’m not prepared to bail you out of fights you start anymore, and if I stay as your tag team partner I’d have to.” He takes a deep breath, then continues. “And I’m still going to stick with the agreement we made after 13th Hour last year. If you want to talk to Flesher or someone about it then be my guest, but as far as I’m concerned,” he pats the World Heavyweight Title over his shoulder, “at the moment, this is none of your business. C’mon Meg.” Landon ‘La Cucaracha’ Maddix, three-time and reigning SWF World Heavyweight Champion, turns away and walks down the corridor with Megan Skye following. Probably not without a twinge of regret - The Galacticos were the longest-reigning tag champions ever, and Maddix enjoyed their matches in a bizarre way, first of all as a way to wind Stephens up and then because they were actually winning - but with a sense of determination and purpose. Whatever his outlook, his perceived goofiness, his much-maligned shilling of popular cola products, Landon wants this run with the World Title to be different. For the first time in his mind, it’s to be about him, not about the spiky-haired Englishman standing behind him in the corridor. “None of my business?” Toxxic hisses, black-rimmed eyes narrowing to near-slits. The straight-edger’s hands curl into fists, then he slams one into the open palm of the other and absent-mindedly squeezes until his knuckles pop. “Landon… prepare to be proved wrong.” FADE OUT

"Dun chik-a-chi dun da dun - diggadun dun DUN!" "Christ, Sexton, give it a rest already!" The opening graphics for AftershoX haven't even faded away, and already we're treated to the now common sound of Ben Hardy and Sexton Hardcastle bickering away. As the logo disappears, Hardy finally manages to wrestle the sock puppet away from his co-host, and tosses it offscreen. "Hello SWF fans, and welcome to SWF Aftershox! My name is Ben H-" "AftershoxxxxxxXXxXxXXXxxxXxXxXxxxxxxXXxXxxxX!" "..." "..." "..." "... you've gotta say it ri-" "Shut up. Welcome to SWF Aftershox! I'm Ben Hardy, and here with me is Sexton Hardcastle, and today we-" "And together, we are TOO HARD!" "..." "... Ben Hardy... Sexton Hardcastle... like, two hard- get it?" "..." "..." "Today we'll be hearing from some of the winners and losers from last weeks Pay Per View, From the Fire! And we'll take a look back at the marquee matches of that evening, WITHOUT RUINING THE ENDING FOR THOSE WHO DON'T KNOW YET. HINT HINT. SEXTON." "But I-" "Shut up. First up - let's revisit From the Fire's triple-threat two-title turmoil, as Jimmy the Doom and Wildchild put their titles on the line against each other, and Calvin Szechstein." -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Ding! Ding! Ding! Lois scurries to the timekeeper's table as Doom takes hold of his shoes and begins twirling them. "I knew, of course, that Jimmy was trained in some form of martial arts, but I was unaware that his discipline included nunchuks," Mak says. "Well, that's just poor research on your part, Francis. I mean, it's common knowledge that all martial arts training involves shoe nunchuks," King says. "In fact, black belts are expected to be proficient in chainsaw nunchuks." The Straight-Breader advances on Wildchild, leaving the Tumbler open to a low leg tackle from Szechstein. Calvin tries to slide up and get a full mount, but WC scuttles backwards and escapes. 'Cadillac' sits up and gets nailed with a left shoe to the back of the skull. JOCOSITY! Wildchild pops to his feet and knocks Calvin on his back with a dropkick. The five-time tag champ kips up and just manages to duck the right tap shoe. Wildchild straightens up and laces a hook kick into Jimmy's head. Doom swings his shoe-chuks, but Wildchild bats the weapon away and plants his foot in the Hardcore champ's gut. "Shuffling sidekick from Wildchild, and I might have to take back my earlier statement about Doom retaining his title. Wildchild had an impressive Hardcore run that went into triple digits, and if he can stick and move like he is right now, it should be a cakewalk to win both falls," Mak says. "That's a pretty big if, Mak. Doom or Calvin are bound to get lucky and connect with something substantial on Wildchild," King says. WC rushes forward and gets smacked with a shotei to the chin. Jimmy rears back and snaps down with a headbutt, but Wildchild sidesteps. The Hurricane catches Jimmy in an underhook with his left arm, but Doom blocks the hiptoss and nails the Bahaman with another shotei to the face. The Straight-Breader wraps WC up and lands a headbutt to the chest. Calvin rises to his feet and hits the trapped champ with a left hook to the temple. Szechstein pops Wildchild with another hook, this time to the jaw, and follows up with a big uppercut to the stomach. Jimmy shoves Wildchild away and flicks out his shoe-chuks, catching 'Cadillac' on the nose. KAPOK! "That alliance didn't last long. Calvin should know better that in a match of this importance, there are no friends, only enemies," Mak says. "I'd have made the same mistake as Szechstein. I thought Jimmy would want a measure of revenge from when Wildchild beat him to retain his International title several months back," King says. "Then again, that was so long ago Doom probably forgot about it." "You do have a point, though, King. Wildchild is the connection between Jimmy and Calvin, as both men have fallen to the Human Hurricane in the past," Mak says. "That's not the only connection, Francis. I also hate all three of them very deeply," King says. Cal takes a step backwards, but easily shakes off the blow. Szechstein presses forward and snags the left shoe out of the air as it flies towards his head. Jimmy tugs on the right, and 'Cadillac' lets go, leaving the left shoe with no other option but to smack Doom in the head. KIBITZER! The Straight-Bread Sensation ignores the attack and fires a kick into Calvin's ribs. Jimmy lunges out, smacking Szechstein with a shotei to the forehead before whipping Calvin into the ropes. Doom takes a shoe in either hand, stretches the laces to their maximum, and races for the man without a title. Calvin dips under the shoe-based clothesline, but falls to a leg lariat from Wildchild. WC pops up and handsprings towards Jimmy, ultimately yanking him to the mat with a headscissors takedown. "Wildchild using his impressive speed and agility to clean house a bit, but he'll have to do a lot more to keep either of his opponents down for the three count," Mak says. "That's why he needs to get a chair or something. Steel works a lot better than flesh and bone when it comes to rendering someone unconscious," King says. The Tropical Tumbler scrambles to his feet, with Jimmy up soon afterwards. Doom throws a kick for WC's head, but misses completely. With the Hardcore champ off-balance, Wildchild knocks Jimmy down with a dropkick to his plant leg. The Bahaman kips up only to get wrapped in a rear waistlock by Calvin. 'Cadillac' launches WC overhead with a release German suplex, but Wildchild flips backwards and lands on his feet. Rather than attack Calvin from behind, WC sprints to the ropes and springs off the middle one. Szechstein turns around to survey his handiwork, but only sees the Cruiserweight champion hurtling towards him with a forearm smash. Wildchild makes a lateral press and Serious drops to count it. One! T-No! Boooo! "Wildchild barely got a one count on Calvin, even after that nice springboard flying forearm," Mak says. "Too bad the only flying around you do these days involves being stuck between two fat jackasses and getting a pack of peanuts for an eight hour flight. But, hey, look on the bright side, lack of leg room shouldn't really bother you," King says. Wildchild stands up and gets shoe laces wrapped around his neck. Jimmy twists the shoe-chuk and turns around, placing himself back to back with WC. The Doomtopian leans forward, lifting the Bahama Bomber off his feet. Yahoo rushes forward to check on Wildchild's willingness to continue the match, but he's unceremoniously shoved away by Szechstein. Calvin walks forward and nails WC with a haymaker to the gut, then another. Cal lands a jab to the chin, but can't do anything else as Jimmy whips around. Doom lets go of Wildchild and slams his skull into Szechstein's. KISMET! "That was a vicious headbutt from Jimmy the Doom, but he's lost his choke hold on Wildchild," Mak says. "That's because he's stupid, Francis. His height advantage, though, is a great asset. Leverage is very important when it comes to striking," King says. Jimmy pops Calvin with a shotei, then snaps off an elbow. Szechstein quickly backpedals, and simply bails out of the ring as Doom gives chase. 'Cadillac' dives under the ring, leaving Doom and Wildchild to face off. WC gets to his feet rubbing his throat, and slips under a right hook from the Hardcore champion. Wildchild unleashes a trio of lightning-fast jabs, spins out to Doom's side, and hauls Jimmy to the canvas with a drop toe hold. The Human Hurricane races for the ropes, bounces back, and flips over the rising Doomtopian, slamming the Straight-Breader's face into the mat again. "Wildchild is already running full throttle, but he's got to remember to keep something in the tank to defend his Cruiserweight title," Mak says. "That will be tough for him, though. It's in his nature to keep a fast pace, and regardless of how much he really wants to win the Hardcore belt again, he'll be going all out," King says. Wildchild kips up and spots Szechstein emerging from under the ring. The Tag champ motors to the turnbuckles and leaps to the top. Wildchild sprints across the top rope and leaps as he reaches the next set of buckles, twisting his body through the air. Calvin frantically digs under the ring and tosses a trash can up at WC, nailing the Tumbler in mid-flight. KNURL! Booo! Booo! Booo! "What a collision! Wildchild went for an Andros Dive Drop, but Calvin Szechstein put the kibosh on that plan by plucking the Caribbean Cruiser out of the air with a trashcan," Mak says. "That's what I was talking about earlier when I said Calvin or Doom would get lucky with something big," King says. "Wildchild might not be able to recover enough to be a factor in either fall." Jimmy scrambles to his feet and slides outside the ring as 'Cadillac' extracts WC from the dented trashcan. Szechstein pushes Wildchild down in frustration and turns to face the Doomtopian. Jimmy cracks Calvin with a pair of palm strikes before reaching for a Muay Thai clinch. Szechstein slips free just as Doom fires a knee, and 'Cadillac' pops him with an uppercut. Calvin lands a jab, then scoops Doom and plants him with a powerslam. Cal pulls Jimmy off the ground and whips him into the ring steps. LACHRYMAL! Szechstein picks up the trashcan, lifts it above his head, and heads towards the Straight-Bread Sensation. Doom pushes himself up and makes his way towards Calvin. Calvin boots Jimmy in the stomach, and with the taller man hunched over, smashes the can into the back of his head. LACUNAE! Boooo! "Calvin Szechstein is not winning over any fans tonight, but he just might win two titles if he keeps this kind of stuff up," Mak says. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- "Early on, Calvin managed to hold his own against the two champs - but it wasn't long before Jimmy the Doom let his Hardcore colors shine through..." -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- . 'Cadillac' shakes his head to clear the cobwebs and walks over to the crumpled trashcan. Cal hoists the battered hunk of metal, takes a running start, and hurls it towards the trio in front of him. LEGERDEMAIN! Boooooo! Cal-vin sucks! Cal-vin sucks! Cal-vin sucks! Cal-vin sucks! "Well, that's a sure fire way to break up a submission attempt," Mak says. "I guess Calvin wants to get the Hardcore title. I would have guessed he'd be after the Cruiserweight belt. He could maybe work in a Slim Fast deal," King says. "I think Szechstein is after both pieces of gold on the line tonight, King, but neither Jimmy the Doom nor Wildchild are going to give up their titles without a fight," Mak says. Jimmy rolls away from Wildchild, crawls to the ring steps, and pulls himself off the ground. Calvin heads towards the Straight-Breader, but gets hit with a shotei before getting too close. Doom blasts Szechstein with another palm thrust before booting him in the gut. Jimmy thrusts Cal into a standing headscissors, lifts him, and then drops to the floor. The Doomtopian rises to his feet, walks over, and snags the trashcan. Jimmy sets it upright and heads back to 'Cadillac'. "It looks like Jimmy the Doom is finally going to make use of that trashcan, and we can only speculate as to what the Hardcore champion is going to do with it," Mak says. "My guess is fill it with sardines and push Calvin head-first into it. I'd probably submit to that," King says. "Since this is Australia, it'd probably be Vegemite," Mak points out. "Or dead infants recovered from packs of dingoes," King adds. "That's gross," Mak says. "Well, it was either that or Foster's, and that stuff is even worse," King says. The Hardcore champ lifts Cal up and snaps off a palm strike. Jimmy laces another shotei into Calvin's face before wrapping Szechstein up in a two-handed choke hold. Doom picks Calvin off his feet and shoves him into the ring post. LEGUMINOUS! With 'Cadillac' still hanging in the air, Jimmy walks him over to the trashcan. The Straight-Breader deposits Szechstein ass-first into the can, folding him in half. Szechstein struggles to extract himself, but a jab to the throat quells any escape attempt. Doom smacks Calvin with a right cross, then follows with a roundhouse to the face. Jimmy backs away from the dazed Szechstein for a moment before racing towards him. Doom leaps into the air and extends his left foot, planting it firmly in Calvin's face, knocking him and the trashcan over. LENITIVE! Yeeaaaah! Jiii-Meee! Jiii-Meee! Jiii-Meee! "Looks like we were both wrong, King. Taking a page out of a school bully's playbook, Doom stuffed Calvin into that trashcan with a modified Jimmy Bomb. Then he added injury to insult with a Hand of Doom and a flying snap kick," Mak says. "You know, with the way Szechstein is stuck in that trashcan, he might not be able to get any leverage to kick out. Jimmy the Doom should make a cover, especially while Wildchild is still feeling the effects of getting hit with the aforementioned can," King says. Doom jogs back towards Calvin, rolls him onto his back, and the Straight-Breader hooks the bottom of the trashcan, pressing Cal's shoulders to the mat. Yahoo Serious stumbles over and counts the fall. One! Two! Three! Serious pops up and signals for the bell. Ding! Ding! Ding! Yeeeaaaaaah! "Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the first fall and still Hardcore champion, the Straight-Bread Sensation, Jimmy the Doom!" Funyon shouts. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- "And just like that, Jimmy the Doom retained his Hardcore title. But the fight wasn't over! The second fall would be fought under Cruiserweight rules - but with so much hardcore punishment dished out early on, it was anyone's guess who would be able to score the next pinfall." -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Wildchild drags himself up the ring steps and on the ring apron. WC grabs the ropes and gets to his feet while Calvin reaches down and pulls Jimmy off the floor. Thirteen! The Tag champion climbs the turnbuckles and stands on the top rope as Szechstein nails Jimmy with a big haymaker, knocking the Straight-Breader to the crowd barrier. Fourteen! Wildchild takes off across the rope, leaps towards 'Cadillac' and pulls himself into a Bahaman ball, smashing Calvin in the back. LIMNOLOGY! Yyyeeeeaaaaah! Dub-Cee! Dub-Cee! Dub-Cee! Dub-Cee! "Andros Dive Pinball from Wildchild, and I hope he can get back inside the ring because it would be a shame for this great match to end on a count-out," Mak says. "Maybe that's what Wildchild is going for, Francis. It sure worked for Jay Hawke," King says. Fifteen! Wildchild picks himself up and does the same for Szechstein. WC grabs Cal by the seat of his trunks and a handful of hair and pitches the pitch man under the bottom rope. The Caribbean Cruiser makes his way to Jimmy, but the Straight-Breader cracks him with a shotei. Sixteen! Wildchild stumbles backwards, and Doom charges. Wildchild just manages to do his best matador impression by sidestepping Jimmy, and then slides the Doomtopian inside the ring. Seventeen! The Human Hurricane sprints to the ring and vaults to the apron. WC grabs the top rope, but waits for Jimmy to stand. Doom clambers to his feet, and Wildchild dives between the top and middle ropes, planting both feet in Jimmy's gut, doubling the Hardcore champ over and also stopping the count. Wildchild pulls himself back outside the ring and up on the top rope. WC flings himself at Jimmy, snaring the Straight-Bread Sensation in a front facelock and swinging Doom around and down with a DDT. LIMPIDITY! Yeeeaaaaaah! Dub-Cee! Dub-Cee! Dub-Cee! "Presumed Guilty DDT from Wildchild, and he's taken firm control of this fall," Mak says. "How exactly does the weakest person, not just in this match, but practically the enitre federation, clean house like this?" King asks. "Well, as any fan of SEC football would lead you to believe, speed kills. Speaking of the Southeastern Conference, Wildchild could easily make linebacker for a number of teams, but he's dangerously close to going over their two hundred, twenty pound weight limit," Mak says. "You've just lost thousands, if not millions of international viewers, Francis. Good job," King says. Wildchild rolls Jimmy on his back, hooks Doom's long legs, and the ref slides to count the pin. One! Calvin pushes himself to his knees and spots the pinfall. Two! Szechstein scurries towards Doom and Wildchild. Thr-No! "Doom just gets a shoulder up!" Mak shouts. "Jimmy doesn't look like he's got much left, but I bet it'll be tough to break that last little bit of energy," King says. Calvin flies towards Jimmy as Wildchild argues the count and smashes Doom with a double axhandle. WC lifts Szechstein off the mat, and Calvin takes hold of Jimmy, pulling Doom up as well. Cal yanks his hand from WC's grasp and whips the groggy Doomtopian to the ropes. Szechstein spins back to the Tropical Tumbler, cracking him with a left hook. 'Cadillac' takes hold of Wildchild's wrist and sends him to the corner. Wildchild vaults to the top turnbuckle and pauses, letting the situation below unfold on its own. Jimmy bounces back to Calvin, and Szechstein ducks his head, flipping Doom over with a back drop. Instinctively, Wildchild flies off the turnbuckle, nailing the Hardcore champ with a forearm to the face. LISLE! YYEEEAAAAH! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! "Did Wildchild and Calvin Szechstein just connect with the Silver Bullet on Jimmy the Doom?" Mak asks. "It looks like it," King says. The Tag champ falls atop Doom and makes a lateral press. One! Calvin whips around and dashes for Wildchild. Two! Szechstein dives with arms outstretched. Three-No! BOOOOOO! CAL-VIN SUCKS! CAL-VIN SUCKS! CAL-VIN SUCKS! CAL-VIN SUCKS! CAL-VIN SUCKS! "This Sydney crowd is absolutely deafening, and they have every right to be upset with Calvin Szechstein. Wildchild had this match won after what I presume was an accidental Silver Bullet, but Szechstein just managed to break up the pin," Mak says. ******* ******* Calvin drags the downed Straight-Breader towards the nearby corner and puts Jimmy in position. Szechstein steps over Doom and makes his way up the buckles as Wildchild scrambles up the apron and pops Calvin in the face. WC nails Cal with another punch, then grabs the top rope and cracks 'Cadillac' with a gamengiri while vaulting to the top buckle. LUFF! YYYEEEEAAAAAH! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! "Calvin might have been going for the Moonsault, Presented by Skittles: Taste the Rainbow, but instead got a taste of Wildchild's leg off that gamengiri," Mak says. "Szechstein could be in trouble, well, he is in trouble regardless, but could be in worse trouble if Wildchild goes for the Bahaman Destroyer. He doesn't pull it out often, and in fact, used it last week to win the Tag titles, but it's almost always match winning," King says. "Since he did use it rather recently, he might actually feel more confident in using it, as he won't be rusty with the timing," Mak points out. "And that definitely spells bad news for Szechstein," King says. Nine! Before Wildchild can even think of snaring Calvin for the sunset flip piledriver, Cal slips off the middle buckle and to the mat. WC bends down, cracks 'Cadillac' with a kick to keep him in place, then leaps, flipping over Szechstein. The Tumbler hauls Calvin to the canvas and Yahoo bounds of Jimmy to count the pin. Yeeeaaaah! One! Two! Thre-No! BOOOOO! That was three! That was three! That was three! "Szechstein got a shoulder up without a moment to spare," Mak says. "He was lucky that he dropped off the second turnbuckle, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to kick out," King says. Wildchild pushes Calvin away and gets to his feet. WC lifts Cal off the mat, lays into him with two quick jabs, and then walks Szechstein towards the middle of the ring. Wildchild attempts an Irish whip, but 'Cadillac' reverses it. The Tropical Tumbler hurtles back to Calvin, who scoops WC up and flips him upside down. Wildchild tries to continue flipping, but Calvin keeps tight hold of the Tag champ. Cal drops to his knees, spiking Wildchild's head into the canvas. LYONNAISE! BOOOOO! CAL-VIN SUCKS! CAL-VIN SUCKS! CAL-VIN SUCKS! CAL-VIN SUCKS! CAL-VIN SUCKS! "Calvin Szechstein just hit the Pause that Refreshes on Wildchild! I think we've got a new champion, King," Mak says. "I was seconds away from admonishing Calvin for using a tilt-a-whirl move against Wildchild since Jimmy paid for such a mistake earlier by way of a headscissor takedown, but this was a risk that looks like it will pay off a very big reward," King says. Calvin doesn't bother to change from the north-south position and makes a cover. One! Jimmy rolls over and pushes himself up to one knee. Two! Doom stands straight up and stumbles towards Calvin. Three! No! MACERATE! YYYEEEEAAAAAAAH! JIII-MEEE! JIII-MEEE! JIII-MEEE! JIII-MEEE! JIII-MEEE! "Doom breaks up the pin! Jimmy the Doom just managed to keep the Cruiserweight title out of Calvin Szechstein's grasp with that vicious roundhouse kick to the head," Mak says. "I think those fans want to make Jimmy the new King of Australia after that," King says. "Australia isn't a monarchy, King," Mak says. "Like I care enough about Down Under England to know how they play pretend government," King says. Jimmy looms over the downed Szechstein, trying to fully regain his bearings. Doom reaches down, picks Cal off the mat, and snakes out a Hand of Doom. The Hardcore champ takes hold of Calvin's wrist and launches his sputtering opponent into the corner. MAHOUT! The Straight-Breader races after Szechstein and leaps, driving his right foot deep in Cal's gut. MAJOLICA! Yeeaaah! Jii-Mee! Jii-Mee! Jii-Mee! "Doom has taken control of this match, and it looks like he might leave From the Fire with two belts," Mak says. "I wonder what he has planned for Szechstein. He usually targets the chest with that front kick, and with how short Calvin is, I was expecting Jimmy to take his head off, but Doom went low," King says. "Well, with that and the Hand of Doom earlier should give Jimmy plenty of time to orchestrate whatever he's going to do. It is hard to fight back when you can't breathe, after all," Mak says. Calvin slumps down in the corner, and after a shotei, Jimmy starts climbing the turnbuckles. Doom ascends to the very top, grabs 'Cadillac' by the hair, and pushes off, driving Szechstein into the mat. MALEDICTION! YYYEEEAAAH! JIII-MEEE! JIII-MEEE! JIII-MEEE! "Top rope Doom Factor! That's what he was after, and Jimmy absolutely nailed Calvin with it," Mak says. "There is no way that Szechstein survives this on his own, and since Wildchild hasn't been very active since taking the Pause that Refreshes, I think we're going to have a double champion," King says. Doom rolls Cal onto his back, reaches out and hooks both legs while throwing his own across Szechstein's shoulders. One! Wildchild slowly sits up, falls forward, then finally pushes himself up. Two! The Bahama Bomber staggers for the blurry trio in front of him. Three! Ding! Ding! Ding! Yeeaaa-boooo! "Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this fall and new Cruiserweight champion, the Straight-Bread Sensation, JJJJIIIIIMMMMYYYY THE DOOOOOOOM!" Funyon roars. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- We swing back to the studio now, with Ben Hardy doing his best to ignore his cohost. "And there you have it - Jimmy the Doom, the Doomtopian Sensation, is now a double champ, representing both the Hardcore and the Cruiserweight Divisions! The only question now is whether he'll be able to dominate the Cruiserweights like he has th-" "Dominate the Cruiserweights! That rhymes!" "OhmygodWHATISWRONGWITHYOUPEOPL-" ***** The SWF is experiencing technical difficulties - please stand by... *****

"Welcome back to AftershoX - I'm Ben Hardy, and co-hosting the final segment is-" "The SWF is about to be put to the test by The Extreme Measures Federat!" "... cohosting the final segment is-" "The SWF is now on trial! Team EMF has obliterated every federation we've come across so far, and for the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation, it will be no different!" "... coh-" "PREPARE FOR ARMAGEDDON." "..." -=-=-=-=-=-=- *DINGDINGDING!* Seeing no reason to delay any longer, the assigned referee Sexton Hardcastle calls for the bell, now that he's clear of the battleground. Maddix continues to stay relatively motionless, staring at the World Champion as he waits on the apron, beckoning his challenger with one finger with a sneer. And already struggling to keep his emotions in check at the mere sight of the man who kidnapped his manageress, Landon suddenly lets out a screaming expletive and sprints at Gabriel with forearm wielded! Gabe quickly drops down and thrusts his shoulder through the ropes, catching Maddix running in in the gut. As he staggers back, Gabe then scrambles in through the bottom and middle ring ropes, only to find himself under a barrage of stomps as Maddix gets a rage-induced adrenaline boost and pounces! "YYYEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" "Landon Maddix is FIRED UP~!" Despite the boots raining off his upper back, Gabe is able to keep climbing to his feet, only slightly hampered by the attack once on his knees. Which is when Landon changes tact, striking with his instep rather than the flat of the boot, cracking a kick across Gabriel's left shoulder! Gabe stands bolt upright, creating some distance as he marches away shaking out his arm. But Maddix is right on his tail, waiting for Drake to spin around... before cracking him with another kick, this one wrapped around the back of the thigh! *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOOOO!" And a knifedge chop! The Beast growls, puffing out his chest... *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOOOO!" ...as Landon fires off with another knifedge! In a rage, Landon thinks nothing of the fact Gabriel is still standing... *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOOOO!" ...and connects with a third knifedge! Gabriel remains upright but seems a little winded, naturally. So Landon keeps the heat on the Champion and reaches up to pop the 6'4 World Champion in the jaw with a forearm, before grabbing the arm and attempting an irish whip. However, with his superior strength, Drake goes with the momentum to arms length of his own accord, only to twist and drag Landon in, bowling him off his feet with a hard clothesline! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" "Oh man!" groans Mak. "Landon Maddix clearly not thinking straight and he tried to stand up and strike with The Beast for far too long." "At least last week on Storm he attacked Gabriel from behind and had the element of surprise behind him. Tonight he's face to face with the World Champion and we're going to see just how tough 'La Cucaracha' really is!" With the challenger winding up facedown on the canvas, sporting a pissed off look on his face Gabriel reaches down, grabbing hold of Landon's blond locks. He hauls Landon up onto his knees, altering his grip as he fires a clubbing forearm across the chest. And again. And again! Forearm after forearm after forearm crash into La Cucaracha's chest in rapid succession, Drake beating Landon until he goes limp, at which point he callously shoves him face-first into the canvas and stands over him with his fist held high. "Mak, I do believe it's Clobbering Time!" King gloats. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- "NEITHER OF THESE MEN ARE WORTHY OF CHALLENGING TH- what? ... ... ... really? ... ... ... Ok then. Later, Hardy." "What?! You're leaving?!" "Yeah. Too many commentary gigs. Seeya!" "..." -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- "Well, it's Maddix who gets to the ladder first!" calls Mak. "But he'd better be quick, because The Beast is stirring." Landon lugs the ladder behind him and props it up against the ring apron, before noticing that indeed Drake has stirred and is up on his feet. So Maddix leaves the ladder behind and walks around the ring, meeting Gabriel with a straight kick to the chest! Drake backpedals a little as Maddix wraps his red and yellow kickpad into the chest for a second time! However, striking with a Beast will only sustain itself for so long, something which Maddix realises as Drake makes moves back towards him, reaching out and grabbing a handful of face! A gruesome tactic, but effective, Maddix raking away at the face and forcing Gabriel backwards until he's backed up against the ring steps. A final rake of the face leaves Gabe blinded and favouring his other facial features... *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOOOO!" ...meaning he doesn't see the follow-up knifedge chop coming! *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOOOO!" ...or the second! However, he does see the third... *CLUNK!* ...weaving out of the way, causing Landon TO CHOP THE RINGPOST!!!! "OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" "OH!" adds Mak. "He could have broken his hand!" "I hope he's a leftie." "..." Howling in pain, The Next Generation cups his right hand in his left and drops to one knee. Caught up in the pain he forgets about Gabe however, up until the moment his head gets jerked backwards by the scruff of the neck... *THUD!* ...AND SLAMMED FACE-FIRST INTO THE TOP OF THE STEEL STEPS!! Maddix promptly collapses in a heap beside the ring steps, at the feet of The Beast who squints a little at the bright lights. Brighter than they were a few seconds ago, at least, when he was temporarily blinded. A close-up camera shot reveals a glazed over look on Landon's face as he starts to sit up, helped the rest of the way up to his feet in a headlock by Drake. And with a grip of the wrist, Gabriel uses a tactic much more rife in Japan than Australia, as he whips Maddix sixteen odd feet across ringside, The Next Generation seemingly unable to stop himself before clattering off the guardrail on the aisle-side. "I'm not sure how much damage Maddix did to that right hand," Mak thinks aloud, "but if that is indeed broken then he's going to have considerable trouble climbing the ladder and taking that SWF World Championship." "He might not make it far enough for us to find out, Mak." Stalking after his opponent, evil intentions seem to flicker through Gabe's eyes as he looks to his right, noticing the ladder leant up against the apron. Gabe retrieves Landon and drags him from the barrier over towards the ladder, but first detours him and pushes him into the ringpost. The shoulder of the challenger clatters into the steel post and there he nestles, as Gabriel takes another look at the ladder. And smiles. "Oh boy, I hope that ladder is sturdy." muses King, correcting himself in his head as he goes. "You know, actually, it doesn't really matter. So long as it doesn't completely give out when he dumps Maddix on it, gotta have some sort of resistance to it if we're going to see any damage worth writing home about." "Gabriel Drake with something bad in mind here." Mak calls, trying to ignore his partner and, ya know, do his job. Pulling Landon away from the ringpost, Gabriel now directs him over to the ladder and scoops him up over his shoulder, looking to 'snake eye' him on the ladder... ...NO! Maddix slithers back and off of Gabe's shoulder, hanging off of The Beast's back and trying to apply a sleeper hold. He doesn't seem to able to do so without aggrivating his still throbbing right hand however and can't get the hold properly applied before Drake backpedals, driving the small of Landon's back into the ring apron and forcing him to fall from his back! "Now he's dead." predicts King, gleefully, as Drake drags Maddix away from the apron and in front of the ladder this time. And growling under his breath, The Beast cups his hands under La Cucaracha's armpits, lifting him high into the air. "Oh no..." Maddix tries to kick his legs, flap his arms, anything to avoid what's imminent. But Drake continues to hold him high. "...oh no..." And with a last, petrified look back over his shoulder, Landon braces himself as Drake lets him drop... *KE - RAAACK!* "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" ...RIGHT DOWN THE LENGTH OF THE LADDER!! "Oh, NO!" "Oh YEAH~!" shouts King in full Kool Aid mode. "What a nonchalant move from Drake!" cringes Mak. "He just dropped him and let gravity take it's course. And take it's course it did, Landon plummeting right down on the ladder, absolutely NO way to protect the back of his head on impact!" Landon remains laying across the propped ladder, until the writhing his ribs and head force him into causes him to topple off of one side, into a comparitively less painful but still jarring fall to the arena floor. Gabriel simply stalks over him with a smile. Reaching down, he grabs the base of the ladder and slides it underneath the bottom rope and into the ring with more nonchalant ease. *********** *********** "He's going up!" cries King. "I think Gabe's finally had enough of dealing with this punk and who can blame him?" "Gabriel Drake, looking to make the first ascent towards the World Heavyweight Championship hanging from the ceiling! We know Gabe is tough. We know he's powerful. We're about to see how much of a climber he is! And that could be crucial to whether he retains his title tonight or not!" Drake looks up into the lights and positions the ladder as carefully as possible underneath the gold hanging high above. And with a last deep breath he begins his climb. Cries from the fans towards Landon to 'hurry up' and 'get in the bloody ring' aren't all that compassionate or understanding. But they certainly don't want to see Gabriel Drake retain, as he looks like doing as he begins to make steady progress up the ladder. "LAN - DON!" "LAN - DON!" "LAN - DON!" "LAN - DON!" Stopping, The Beast takes a look up. Only five rungs from the top and the belt within maybe half that. With the belt so close, Gabriel enters tunnel vision... ...which means he doesn't notice Landon virtually dumping himself onto the apron and slithering in underneath the bottom rope! Even the roar from the crowd at this sudden sign of life from La Cucaracha doesn't seem to alert Gabriel, from four rungs from the top... ...make that three rungs... ...but suddenly, the ladder jolts! Gabriel understandably commits the mortal sin of looking down from a high place, to find Landon Maddix on his side of the ladder and fast approaching him. But rather than make a gamble for the belt, Gabe turns himself so his back is against the rungs of the ladder and actually seems to be coaxing Maddix up after him! "Landon did just about enough to distract Gabriel!" calls Mak. "Yeah, but now he's on a ladder with The Beast towering over him!" Landon gets three rungs up and finds himself in a tough position, looking up at Gabriel as he places his hands on the top rung of the ladder for some added leverage. The Beast then kicks down, his foot narrowly whistling past Landon's left ear as he just dodges his head out of the way in time. Another kick is avoided. And a third kick, Gabriel now getting a little impatient as he tries to rid himself of the persistant challenger. However, his over-eagerness almost costs him as he begins to lose his balance, having to take a second to right himself... *CHING!* ...GIVING LANDON TIME TO REACH UP AND PUNCH GABE BETWEEN THE LEGS!!! "RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" Maddix adopts a brief Jean Claude Van Damme pose as Drake stands with mouth agape, suddenly going rigid near the top of the ladder. "I was going to say that Landon went low for a second," admits Mak, "but technically, that isn't really true." "I don't know, I don't think you can get much lower than that kind of cheap move." The problem for Landon now, beside his back and his neck and his head and his possibly broken right hand, is that to get to the belt right now he'd have to literally climb over The Beast. Something which just isn't going to happen. However, he can't really throw Gabe off either. So Landon is forced to scale carefully up a couple of rungs, so as his head comes up level with Gabriel's stomach. A quick headbutt to the gut gives Maddix an extra second or two to adjust himself, deciding he needs to take another step... ...but it proves a step too far, as Gabe suddenly thrusts out a knee... ...and Landon falls backwards... ...LEFT HANGING UPSIDE DOWN IN THE TREE OF WOE ON THE LADDER AS HIS LEG GETS CAUGHT IN THE RUNGS!! "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" "Oh Jesus..." "YES!" cries King, not nearly as concerned over Landon nearly killing himself as his partner is. "GABE IS THERE!" With Landon hanging upside down, it seems Gabe does have a completely clear route to the belt and the crowd begin to boo the crap out of him, as with a grimace still etched on his face from the nutshot earlier, Gabriel c a r e f u l l y stands upright... ...but suddenly freezes in fear, back to gripping onto the top of the ladder. Even in the tree of woe on the ladder itself, Landon is poses a problem, as he starts to thrash around, kicking with his free leg and shaking with his hands, causing the ladder to shake violently the moment Gabriel's weight isn't focused on the very top of it!! "No, I don't think Gabe can get it! What a desperation moment for Landon Maddix, he's somehow saving himself in this position!" Gabriel tries again to reach up, this time with just the one hand. But again the violent movement of Landon threatens to topple the ladder and in this position, it's destined to be Gabe who comes off the worst. "Don't worry Gabe!!" shouts King, hoping to be heard over the baying crowd. "Sooner or later he has to pass out, just sit it out!" "Unless he frees himself." "Yeah, well... crap! How LUCKY can one person be!? The moron goes from almost falling on his head from a ladder to virtually checkmating Gabe on the top of the ladder with nowhere to go!" As both men wait for the other to make the mistake in their precarious positions, a stand-off seems to be setting in. Until that is, Landon suddenly bridges up, trying to perform some sort of a mid-air sit-up to get back upright on the ladder! He risks bringing the entire ladder forward and on top of him in doing so if Gabriel's weight doesn't keep it steady. And Gabe is well aware of that. So The Beast, in spite of himself, is forced to give up on the belt... ...waiting until Landon's body is somewhere close to ninety degrees, before dropping off the ladder with elbow extended... ...BUT LANDON LAYS BACK... *WHAAAMM!* "YYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" ...AND GABRIEL MISSES HIS ELBOW DROP AND PLUMMETS ALL THE WAY TO THE CANVAS!!!! "NOBODY HOME!! GABRIEL DRAKE, ALL THE WAY FROM THE HEAVENS WITH THAT FRUITLESS ELBOW DROP ATTEMPT!" "You've got to be kidding me..." As Gabriel settles on the canvas, the fans suddenly rise to their feet as they realise Landon is still on the ladder! And with the World Champion down and possibly out of it, all the challenger needs to do is right himself. Which is easier said than done. Infact, it's nigh on impossible. With no-one at the top of the ladder or for that matter on the other side, Landon can't sit up because it would tip the ladder right on top of him. So instead, Landon tries to squirm his foot free from between the rungs. "LAN - DON!" "LAN - DON!" "LAN - DON!" "LAN - DON!" The fans get behind him and Landon feeds off the encouragement, but again it's only going to do him so much good. Gabe is still down for now but Landon knows he can't have long. And with one last effort, he bridges... ...but the ladder comes toppling... ...toppling on top of him... ...but Landon gets his hands up! And as the ladder comes down on top of him, he comes out relatively unscathed, allowing him to squeeze his ankle free and try to set the ladder back up as quickly as possible! "Maddix is free! Can he get up the ladder before Gabe recovers though!?" Setting the ladder back where it was, Maddix starts to scramble up the ladder... ...and then stops scrambling, deciding to take it a little easier as the effects of the match so far, not to mention Storm a week ago, hamper his progress. He begins to start scaling though, six rungs away... ...five... ...four... ...the belt in sight... ...JUST AS GABE REACHES OUT A FOOT... ...SENDING LANDON AND THE LADDER OFF TO THE SIDE, LANDON EJECTING FROM THE CARNAGE BOUND LADDER, BUT STILL CLATTERING INTO THE RING ROPES!!!! "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" Landon whiplashes violently off the ropes; neck, arm, legs, pretty much all of him really. And as he naturally untangles from the ropes he lays flat out on the canvas, both men down and neither in any shape to make a break for the belt! "And we are at a stalemate!" gasps Mak. "First attempts at the title for both men and both come up short. Lest we forget, Landon won his first Tag Team Title in TLC and he was the one to retrieve the belts! But then there were five other men to contend with, one of those a partner and more opportunities to pick your spots. This is one on one and you have to be assured your opponent is neutralised before you even think of climbing that ladder." ************ ************ "And now King, now the tables may have turned!" Mak announces proudly. "Yes, it is true that Landon can't climb a ladder if he's unconscious or immobile, but the same can be said for Gabriel Drake! And if he can't put any weight on that knee, he can't climb the ladder... what a brilliant strategy!" "Yeah, no coincidence that the 'brilliant strategy' kicked in the moment Megan showed up. No coincidence at all." Wearily Maddix uses the ladder to climb back up, looking up at the World Title high above him. However, that's not the only thing that catches his eye. Before he even starts to climb, Landon turns over to Megan... then turns back to Gabe. And with no further thought on his mind, Maddix knocks the ladder over. Laying one side flat, he then drags it over to Gabe, taking The Beast's right leg - not without a fight mind you, having to kick him a couple of times to soften him up first - and placing it on the flattened side. *CLANG!* "YYYEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" The fans positively explode, as Landon slams the ladder shut on The Beast's injured knee... *CLANG!* ...a second time... *CLANG!* ...a third... ...and on the fourth time, the ladder locks. But Landon is nothing if not resourceful and after a couple of attempts to shut the ladder with no success, he leaps up and SENTONS THE LADDER, FORCING it to close across The Beast's knee!! "YYYEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" "Listen to those sounds!" remarks Mak. "Look at Drake's face, I don't think I've ever seen or heard him in so much pain!" "Well he just got his leg sandwiched between a ladder, what do you expect him to look and sound like genius!? Just because you can't feel nothing below your waist doesn't mean he can't!!" "King, you're getting hysterical..." "No, YOU'RE getting hysterical!!!" Sitting up, instantly Landon regrets that move as his back screams out in pain. Not literally obviously, but you get the point. Megan encourages her man to battle through it though and Landon does just that as he pulls himself to his feet. Dragging away the ladder, which doesn't seem in that great of a shape anymore, Landon sets about working the knee some more as he stomps away, time and time and time again! Gabriel shouts out in pain with every stomp, trying to pull himself under the bottom rope to get away from this attack. He doesn't make it though as Maddix ends the onslaught, only to try and drag Gabe away from the ropes. His back won't allow it though. So, he has to settle for what he can get, as he whips around the right leg and applies a Figure Four Leglock!! "WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" "Figure Four! Gabriel Drake feeling The Wrath Of Maddix, in more ways than just the goofy movename!" Mind clouding with pain, Gabriel instinctively reaches out and grabs the bottom rope for a break. Of course there are no rope breaks so it's all for nought, a slow realisation from The Beast as Landon continues to try and sink the hold in tighter and tighter! "So, Maddix in a wrestling match couldn't string two submissions together if his life depended on it. But throw him in a Ladder Match and he becomes Scott freakin' Preztler! I despair, I really do." "Landon attempting to completely incapacitate the World Champion here. He might even put him out from the pain if he hangs on long enough, Gabriel Drake is in serious trouble here!" As Gabriel begins to cuss up a veritable storm as he tries to reach out to his own legs to find a way to break the leglock, Megan scuttles around ringside. Reaching into the ring she collectes the tire iron and slides it over to Landon. Difference being, this time it's on Landon's command, The Next Generation knowing full-well his plans now as he raises the tire iron... *CLANG!* ...AND STRIKES GABE DIRECTLY IN THE PATELLA WITH IT!!! "AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" "He's trying to break his leg!" protests King. "Forget incapacitating, he's trying to DISABLE Gabe!" "Hey, you were all for it happening the other way. Besides, Gabe'd make a much better wheelchair basketballer than Landon." "I hate you." Howling in pain now, Gabriel sinks down and seems to be losing fight as he grips his head in his hands. Landon seems to think it's done now. And he releases the figure four, climbing to his feet and giving Gabriel a final few vengeful words before grabbing the ladder and preparing to go for the belt. "Here we go King..." But Mak's anticipation is a little premature, as when Landon opens the ladder up, one of the links hangs loose at the side. "Ha! Good luck climbing that, two legs or one!" Landon looks at the mangled ladder as it rocks on it's feet even without anyone on it and curses to himself, throwing the broken ladder down and calling for Megan to find him another. Quickly she goes rummaging under the ring, while Landon strolls back over to Gabriel to stomp him down some more. However, he gets a little too close and Gabriel reaches out, grabbing the waistband of Landon's shorts... ...and dragging him face-first into the middle turnbuckle behind him!! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" "Desperation move from the World Champion!" "In the context of this match, you can't call that desperate!" King argues. "Maddix is using a tire iron for crying out loud." Unaware of what just happened Megan comes back up from the apron and heaves the replacement ladder up, slides it into the ring... and only then notices that her man is seeing stars. And notices that Gabriel Drake is limping to his feet via the aid of the ropes, growling and grunting as he hops towards Landon, unable to put any weight what-so-ever on his right leg. He still manages to drag Maddix out from the corner though, slapping him around the head with a palm strike... ...and another... ...before spinning around on his good leg and whipping a spinning backfist across the jaw of the challenger! The Mass Murder combo leaves Landon slumped in the corner. But simple Mass Murder apparantly isn't enough for Gabriel Drake, as he turns to look Megan Skye dead in the eye, giving her a venomous look as he runs a thumb across his throat! CHOP! FOREARM! CHOP! FOREARM! "It's a Violence Party in Syndey, Australia!" calls King jubilantly. CHOP! FOREARM! CHOP! FOREARM! Landon begins to fall out of the corner, but Gabriel catches his head in his arms, holding him up in the process of exposing the side of the skull... *THUD!* HEADBUTT! *THUD!* HEADBUTT! *THUD!* HEADBUTT! "#My girl likes to party all the time, party all the time, party all the tiiiime!#" Landon falls to his knees. But the party isn't over yet, Gabe still holding the head... KAWADA KICK "AHH DAMN IT!!" But this party has a little too much violence for Gabriel Drake's right leg to handle, leaving him in agony the moment he kicks Landon across the forehead! Gabe falls into the ropes and clutches at his knee, while Landon simply falls flat on his face out of the corner. "Both these men are hurting now, clichéd as it sounds this really is gutcheck time." calls Mak. "Somebody has to climb that ladder and retrieve the title. Right now, I'm not sure either is capable of doing that!" ****************** ****************** Getting nowhere trying to pull Gabe down, Landon instead starts to work on the base, the ladder itself. He gives it a couple of pushes that shake it slightly, but not enough to drop Gabe. So Landon naturally realises he needs a run-up and rushes into the side ropes... ...but Gabriel Drake has something up his sleeve for that, using his own methods to topple the ladder. However, instead of toppling it towards the announce table side as Maddix would be attempting, Gabe topples it towards the aisle... ...the same side Landon has just rebounded from... *CRAAACK!* "OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" ...RUNNING RIGHT BACK INTO A SPEEDING LADDER, KNOCKING HIM DOWN WITH ALL THE FORCE OF A STEEL LARIATTTOOO~! "WHAT A MOVE!!" exclaims King, as Gabe tucks and rolls on his self-inflicted tumble from the ladder, as much as possible. He still absorbs some of the fall and on his right side. But the damage done to Landon is clearly more significant this time around as he lies motionless between the two sides of the fallen ladder. "HO - LY SHIT!" "HO - LY SHIT!" "HO - LY SHIT!" "HO - LY SHIT!" ************** ************** Landon rolls into the ring and drags Drake's seemingly lifeless body off of the ladder, sliding the buckled ladder out of the way as he turns Gabriel so that his legs face the ringpost. And showing off his best boy scout skills, La Cucaracha begins to wrap the length of cord around the ringpost. The crowd seem to sense what's happening and all start to stand up and crane their necks to get a better view, as Landon wraps the rest of the cable around Drake's right ankle. Drake is too groggy, if conscious at all, to do anything about it as Landon comes up satisfied and sarcastically pats his opponent on the shoulder as he hobbles over to the standing ladder and begins his climb. "YYYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" "You've got to be KIDDING ME!" howls King. "You have GOT to be KIDDING ME!" "Gabriel Drake is all tied up, he's out of reach... Landon has a free run to the gold! There's no-one to stop him unless Drake can get untied, but I don't think he even knows what's happened yet!" "LAN - DON!" "LAN - DON!" "LAN - DON!" "LAN - DON!" Still it's a pretty pained climb from Landon, not speedy at all as the match was supposedly built on. But with Drake only just coming too, it looks like it may not matter. Maddix makes it to the halfway point of the ladder before he notices Gabriel on his way back up, the first shot we see of him with blood streaming from The Beast's mouth! Still, The Beast isn't called The Beast for nothing and if anything it seems to fuel him more, the taste of his own blood. And with fists clenched, he hops to his feet and stomps forward... ...and falls flat on his face!! "YYYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" Gabriel looks a little confused for a moment, understandably considering his head is probably throbbing still. But after a look around him he notices the thick electrical cable tangled around his ankle. And as he pulls at it, he also realises how tight the tie is! Face like thunder, Gabriel looks back up. And Landon is stood halfway up the ladder. Waving! "YYYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" "Oh you son of a..." King's fury is easily surpassed by that of Gabriel Drake, who positively LOSES IT and begins to tug at the electrical cable with all his might (probably not the safest thing to do). The fact it's tied tight around his right ankle means he can only do so for so long before he leg begins to sear white hot, so he quickly tries to rationalise, sits down and starts to work on the knot... ...as now, Maddix continues his climb, grinning from ear to ear already... "He's not going to make it, Drake can't get it untied..." ...Gabriel still picking at the knot, looking up despairingly as he sees Landon two rungs from the top... ...reaching... ...THE KNOT COMES UNTIED... ...BUT SO DOES THE BELT, RIGHT INTO LANDON'S CRADLED ARMS!!!!! "YYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" "HE DIDN'T MAKE IT!! MADDIX GOT THE BELT!! MADDIX GOT THE BELT!!" Just seconds too late Gabriel lunges on one leg into the ladder. Maddix is already prepped and ready to jump and is able to land safely and wastes no time what-so-ever in diving right out of the ring before Drake can make a second attack. All he cares about is that the SWF World Title is back in his grasp... and that he's able to grasp anything. The sound of a headset being slammed into the canvas can be heard over the cheers. No prizes for guessing who was responsible. *DINGDINGDING!* "Ladies and gentlemen, your winner of the match... and the NNEEEEEEEWWWW SMARTMARKS WRESTLING FEDERATION WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION... LLLAAAANNDDOOONN "LA CUCARACHA"... MMMMMMAAAAAAAAAADDIIIIIIIIIIIIXXXXXXXXXXXX!!!!" "YYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" Gabriel Drake sits in the ring and looks like he's about to lose his mind as he glares at Funyon, venomously enough that the SWF's trusty ring announcer decides to hedge his bets starting in the crowd should a footrace ensude. Drake's attention then turns, to Maddix and Megan in the aisleway. "For the third time, Landon Maddix is the SWF World's Champion! It came not without risk, not without injury and not without a little bit of controversy on our now ex-Champion's part. But Landon Maddix will not care, because he has survived From The Fire! He has avenged 2005! He has avenged Gabriel Drake's abduction of Megan Skye. He is... Champion!" From the safety of the aisleway, Landon has no qualms about dropping his previously serious demeanour. Smirking, Landon places the SWF Championship over Megan's shoulder and shrugs his own, as Drake points a threatening finger from the ring, warning him in no uncertain terms that 'he'll pay'. But for tonight, Landon could care less. "Megan had a plan. Landon had a plan. And now, they have the SWF World Heavyweight Championship! I love it when a plan comes together! From a strangely silent Suicide King, this is Mak Francis saying goodnight from From The Fire! We will see you next week on Storm!!"

It’s a smoldering Brazil evening at the Estado Jornalista Mario Fiho(I’m not typing that again!) Strutting around the ring with his hands on the hips, Blankhardt turns a high hat to the thousands in attendance as they are not worthy of laying their eyes on such a classy athlete. Though the fans have no idea who this strange little fury man is, they already know that they hate him. Funyon booms something into the mic in flawless Spanish but it all sounds like primitive gibberish to the Finlander. Suddenly, the crowd explodes into deafening cheers and chants! The sonic explosion nearly gives Blankhardt a heart attack as he’s used to wrestling considerably smaller gigs in his homeland of Carol…Finland. With his beady little eyes, the stocky little Finland native spies a large, grumpy Kentuckian purposefully marching down the aisle. Mak: I would hate to be in Blankhardt’s boots right now as Williams can’t be too happy with his loss last week. King: No wander you were never a Champion! Unless you’re a mental juggernaut like myself, normies like you are usually distracted after a big loss, your thoughts clouded with doubt, over eagerness, and distractions. Chances are Williams is going to be more vulnerable than he ever was last week. Williams enters the ring when Blankhardt ambushes him with a swift Yakuza Kick to the gut, forcing a frustrated Soapdish to quickly call for the bell. Ding! Ding! Ding! The surprise shot reverberates through Danny’s relaxed abdomen, briefly knocking the wind out of him! A storm of wild lefts and rights follow as the Blankhardt unloads everything he has on the stunned beast before him; hoping to overwhelm him before he can return fire! He fails. Brushing off everything the Finnish heel can throw his way, Williams savagely turns loose his elbows! The vicious shots sound across the open arena like cannon fire. Driving Blankhardt backwards into the ropes, Williams sends him for the ride! Anticipating his return, Williams takes position in the center of the ring! Blanhardt hits the ropes! Williams draws back his massive arm! The fans come to their feet! The Axe Bomber is academic! …….. But Blanhardt grabs the ropes with white knuckled desperation! Celebrating his wit, he suddenly busts into an improvised happy dance that sees him strutting around and shaking his hips with fruity precision. Until he suddenly becomes woozy and collapses face first on the canvas. Mak: Those elbows must have had a delayed effect on him. King: Well, that explains the weird dancing…I hope. As the crowd goes into hysterics, Williams drags the punch drunk bastard up for more punishment. With all business look on his face, he crudely slams more elbows into the helpless Blankhardt’s bruising jaw! He turns for the Rolling Elbow…..but the wobbly Blankhardt anti-climatically crumbles before it can land. Again, the crowd laughs. Frustrated, Williams jerks him right back up, measures him, and KA-POW! The Rolling Elbow finally scores! Blankhardt sails over the top rope, spilling onto the floor with an ugly fall! Getting right back up, the poor goof stumbles backwards, making his way towards a role of empty fold out chairs. His legs give out, but he ironically misses every single one of the chairs as he crashes into the guardrail. The fans again find themselves in hysterics. King: What dumpster did Tom drag this bum out of? Francis: Finland, and he’s actually quite good from my understanding. It’s just his style is a little dated. Not feeling the need to push the tempo, Williams remains focused in the ring as Soapdish starts to count. Hunched over and holding his back an old man, Blankhardt gingerly lurches his way to the ring apron, wearily burying his head into his arms. Williams just stares at him. Several moments past and it looks like Blankhardt is about to get counted out. Suddenly, Blankhardt shoots his head; throwing his arms up in disgust. Clearly pissed, he complains as he climbs onto the ring apron and enters the ropes. Francis: It looked like he was trying to play possum but Williams didn’t bite. King: God, how this fed needs me. Francis: Than comeback. King: No, why don’t you? Francis: I’m f**king crippled! Not sure where to go after his failed trap, Blankhardt cautiously enters the ring. With a goofy smile, he extends his hand for a shake. Williams rolls his eyes as he can obviously see that Blankhardt has got his fingers crossed behind his back. Playing along, Williams forces a dumb smile as he accepts the handshake. In a most unexpected, devious twist, Blankhardt throws up his leg for a kick! That’s easily caught. Crack! An unforgiving elbow sends him to the canvas. King: Why did he feel the need to cross his fingers behind his back? Francis: To build suspense I suppose. Shamelessly crawling away from his attacker in a panic, Blankhardt pulls himself up in a corner. Stalking his prey, Williams moves in for the kill when a thumb finds its way into his eye! With Danny temporarily blinded, Blankhardt proceeds to ascend the turnbuckles at a very deliberate pace. Blinking his vision back, Williams spots his strange opponent perching on the top rope…so he calmly walks out of harm’s way. Blankhardt waits for some time, shakes his head, and climbs back down. Crack! A hard elbow introduces him to the canvas again. King: What the hell was that? Francis: It looks like Blankhardt overestimated the damage the eye poke did and thought he had more time for an attack or something….. King: He should have climbed faster. Spitting out what he hopes wasn’t a tooth, Blankhardt sneaks into his tights, producing a pair of brass knux. Doing his best to keep his hand concealed, he stumbles to his feet, anticipating Williams as closes in. He snickers to himself as fantasies of knocking the big brute out dances in his odd shaped head. When Soapdish suddenly grabs his hand and forces it open. “How did that get there?” exclaims the startled Blankhardt. Shaking his head with boredom, Soapdish takes the knuckles and orders the match to continue. Francis: This is really sad. King: Maybe the refs have really bad vision in Finland. Dropping to his knees, Blnkhardt shamelessly begs for his life as Williams move forward, fixated on taking this fool out of misery. Ding! A low blow crushes Williams’ exceptionally large family jewels, buckling his knees. Purple faced he looks to the official, who is busy handing the knux to an outside official. Francis: Well that rather clever. King: It was all a damn ruse; this punk knows what he’s doing! The fans aren’t laughing anymore. Wobbling to his feet, Blankhardt stumbles and sways around like a drunk on a Carousel, harassing the children for change while freely barfing and urinating on him self. Very awkwardly, he continues the dance he started earlier while the fans madly jeer. King: Hey, I’m starting to like this Blankhardt guy. Mak: He needs to stop showboating. Suddenly, getting right down to business Blankhardt frantically drags Williams to his feet, and positions him for a Vertical Suplex. It takes a little out of him, but with a little hard work and a little handful of tights, he gets Danny into the air. Bouncing him off the top rope, he suplexes him into the canvas with extra authority! Tasting the upset, he laughs with excited glee as he urgently crawls atop Williams for the cover. One! Williams benches presses him off with monstrous power! Not exactly expecting that, Blankhardt nearly craps himself in the middle of the ring. King: I hope that wasn’t the only high impact move he has. Francis: Like I said, a tad dated. Scared that he’s in the ring with a crazy person with the power to literally throw him around like a ragdoll, Blankhardt digs into his tights, retrieving yet another pair of knux. Barely stunned by the glorified Suplex, Williams angrily stomps right to his feet, thoughts of tearing this little bastard apart running through his head. Suddenly, Blankhardt grabs a headlock. Crack! Suavely introducing Williams’ face to the unforgiving brass, Blankhardt tucks his weapon back into his tights before Soapdish can see. Francis: How many brass knuckles does this guy have?! King: Highly intelligent wrestling from Blankhardt, I honestly didn’t expect him to be this good. Mak: Fair or not, he may very well have scored the massive upset. The crowd saw it though, and they’re understandably outraged by this travesty of justice. Again, the Finnish heel gloats with joy as he quickly hooks a leg for the cover. One! Two! Williams violently throws Blankhardt off! Snorting like a wild animal on the warpath, he sits up with a sudden jerk, violently shaking his head clear of cobwebs. Spazing out, Blankhardt digs back into his tights. Rising to his feet with angry puffs of air, Williams finds himself on the receiving end of another illegal attack! But he catches the knock out blow in his massive hand like a softball! Shaking an angry finger in Blankhardt’s face, he shows no mercy for the troublesome punk! BAM! A devastating Axe Bomber relieves Blankhardt of his head! Mak: And it looks like this one is already over. King: Damn, I was just starting to like the little guy. The crowd is ecstatic as Williams casually rests a boot on his fallen prey for the cover. ONE! TWO! THREE! DING! DING! DING! As if it was no big deal, Williams steps off his crushed foe; barely breaking a sweat in the muggy tropical air. Ben Hardy rushes to greet him, nearly tripping over his mic cord in the process. “Williams, what does your victory mean tonight?” he asks. “It simply means that I’m not going anywhere. I’m here to stay,” calmly announces Williams with breath to spare, his menacing blue eyes staring holes through the camera and anybody who might be watching. “Are there any plans for a re-match with Toxxic?” urgently asks Hardy, barely able to contain himself from marking out at the possibility. “Not at this time, but I’m going to take it as it comes. I’m ready to fight anybody. ” says Williams alarming confidence. “Thank you for your time,” concludes Hardy. Williams poses for the still jubilating crowd in every different direction as this will be the last time they’ll him or the SWF for some time.

"Welcome back to Aftershox - Ben Hardy here, with my new and very much improved cohost for the evening... the SWF's very own Funyon!" The famed announcer takes a slight bow, and suddenly the lights dim, and a microphone lowers from the cieling. "What the-" Hardy starts, before the color drains from his face. "Oh no. No, please, tell me you're no-" "The following segment," Funyon booms, "is scheduled for REPEAAAAAAAAAT!" "Why me?" "INTRODUCING FIRST, the opening segment! Weighing in at six minutes and twenty-three seconds-" "Jesus Chris-" ****CCCCHHHKKK**** -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- *DING-DING-DING!* "YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" "…and we're underway!" Mak Francis shouts as the two wrestlers begin circling, "Toxxic won in 2004, Danny won in 2005, now in 2007 both men have four World Titles under their belts, if you'll pardon the pun, and they're hooking up for bragging rights! Toxxic wasn't happy with Tom Flesher bringing Danny in at the level that he did, and he made his feelings known by spitting in Williams' face, leading to Danny demanding that this be his first match!" Williams starts to advance towards Toxxic while the straight-edger watches him cautiously, then as Danny makes a lunge Stephens dodges and ducks to one side leaving his opponent grabbing at thin air! "TOXX-IC SUCKS!" "TOXX-IC SUCKS!" Williams turns and heads after his slippery opponent, while Toxxic keeps backing off but remains careful not to allow himself to get cornered. Danny manages to close the gap between the two of them again and makes another grab, but this time Toxxic dives down between his opponent's legs and scoots through, grabbing one of Williams' legs on his way through. Williams wobbles as Toxxic keeps hold of the ankle and starts to lift as he returns to a vertical base, and with the Louisville Elbower pretty much at his mercy it's no problem for Toxxic to kick Danny in the back of his standing leg and cause him to collapse forward to the mat! "TOXX-IC SUCKS!" "TOXX-IC SUCKS!" Stephens ignores the crowd, instead lifting Williams' leg up by the ankle, then driving it back down into the mat knee-first! Williams grunts in pain, and as Toxxic goes for it again he rolls over onto his back and coils his legs up, drawing Stephens in, then kicks out and lands both boots on the Englishman's chest to shove him away and send him falling back onto his ass! Williams starts to get up to a vertical base but Toxxic is there first, and as Danny stands properly the straight-edger darts in and launches a basement dropkick to the right knee that drops Williams back down; Toxxic then scrambles to his feet and launches two more dropkicks, one into Williams' right arm, then another into the bigger man's temple that sends Danny sprawling back onto the canvas! "TOXX-IC SUCKS!" "TOXX-IC SUCKS!" "It looks like Toxxic is going for hit-and-run tactics in the early stages here," Mak Francis points out, "which has to be considered wise given the size, weight and sheer power difference between these two men." "Size, weight and power on their own get you nowhere," King argues, "just look at those two Hindu freaks. And Korgath, sadly." Danny Williams is starting to get up again and Toxxic is right in there helping him, grabbing the bigger man's arm and hauling him up then, before Danny can get his weight balanced, Irish whipping the Louisville Elbower into the ropes. Danny hits and starts to rebound and Toxxic jumps into the air for a leapfrog… but Williams has hooked his arms around the top rope and killed his momentum, leaving Toxxic a sitting duck as he returns to the canvas just as Danny explodes forwards under his own steam to slam a massive shoulderblock into the Englishman! "YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Danny, who was barely rocked by the impact at all while Toxxic was knocked flat onto his back, raises one huge arm and cocks it, ready to fall into an elbowdrop… but the Englishman rolls aside at the last moment and keeps rolling clean out of the ring! "LET'S GO DAN-E!" "LET'S GO DAN-E!" Williams picks himself back up off the mat and rubs momentarily at his elbow, while Stephens takes a deep breath on the outside of the ring and looks thoughtfully back up at his opponent. Brian Warner comes over to the ropes and instructs the straight-edger to return to the squared circle, but Stephens ignores him. "-and that's what Danny Williams can do when he gets a chance to connect with his bodyweight," Mak Francis points out, "Toxxic had to work hard to take Danny off his feet, Danny just had to run into Toxxic! Now Stephens doesn't seem so eager to mix it up, it must be said." "That's crap," King shoots back, "Toxxic's just considering his options. He's been wrestling every week since the Clusterfuck, while Danny has been resting up and relaxing. Toxxic's been busting his gut in title matches and streetfights while Williams has been eating spare ribs and drinking whiskey. Williams is not only coming into this match more rested due to his refusal to wrestle, but he's had a chance to scout Toxxic while keeping himself out of the ring to prevent his opponent from being able to properly prepare!" "Come on now King, you don't believe that do you?" Mak asks as Toxxic turns around to flip a v-sign at a particularly vocal fan in the front row behind him. "Sure I do!" Brian Warner seems resigned to the fact that Toxxic won't listen to him and begins his count, but Stephens seems to have taken whatever time he wanted and rolls back in under the bottom rope, then gets back up to his feet. Danny just stands waiting for him and Toxxic advances, arms slightly raised as if going for a lock-up. Williams doesn't seem to believe that his opponent really wants to match strength with him - and with good reason - but he raises his arms anyway, ready to ward off any aggressive moves on his opponent's part… except that Toxxic takes the last two steps at a run and leaves his feet to slam another basement dropkick into Danny's right knee! Danny's base is knocked out from under him and he drops to one knee, and Stephens seizes his chance and Williams' right arm. However, instead of twisting it overhead into an armwringer as is his usual method of trying to control powerful opponents Toxxic simply corkscrews his body through the air, torquing the arm forwards but at the same time dragging Danny down facefirst into the mat! *BANG!* Toxxic doesn't release his hold on the bigger man's limb and, with Williams momentarily dazed and - at least for the moment - under control, Stephens gets back to his feet and then steps over Danny's arm with one foot. He then goes up onto tiptoe for a moment before falling forward to his knees, trapping Danny's arm between the shin of one leg and the calf of the other and causing Deathwish to let out an audible grunt of pain. "Nice armbreaker there from Toxxic," Francis notes clinically, "the way he beat Danny in 2004 was the Repeat To Fade, his hammerlock and Dragon Sleeper combination that works best if the opponent's arm is weakened, but moves like the RTF II and the Regal Stretch would also benefit from a bit of setting up. And of course," the Franchise continues as Williams snatches his arm out of danger and rolls away into a sitting position, "the more Toxxic works that limb over the less likely it is that Danny will be able to hit the Axe Bomber with full force." Not that Toxxic is content to concentrate on the arm; with Danny in a sitting position and nursing his arm the Englishman is already moving again, back to his feet and approaching his opponent from behind at pace, then flipping over and grabbing Danny's head on the way past to snap his neck forward! "A move borrowed from Landon Maddix, I fancy," Mak comments. "A move borrowed from someone infinitely more talented, I think you'll find," King sniffs. However, regardless of where Toxxic lifted that move from Danny's problems aren't over yet because Stephens suddenly kips up to his feet, then turns around and drives another basement dropkick into his opponent's face! *SMACK!* "TOXX-IC SUCKS!" "TOXX-IC SUCKS!" Danny falls backwards to the mat and Toxxic dives on top for the cover… ONE! …but gets unceremoniously thrown off by Williams, ending up at least a couple of feet away from the powerful Kentuckian! "YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" "LET'S GO DAN-E!" "LET'S GO DAN-E!" "What power!" Mak Francis shouts as Toxxic starts to scramble up with just the faintest hint of intimidation flickering around his features, "Danny Williams pretty much press slammed Toxxic off his chest and through the air!" "It was showy and pointless," the Suicide King fires back as Danny rolls to the side, then starts getting up, "Danny wasted energy there!" Toxxic doesn't like feeling intimidated, so he doesn't let Williams get back up and instead charges forward to launch yet another basement dropkick at his opponent… but Danny, still on one knee, manages to simply slap the Englishman aside! Toxxic lands on the mat, and Williams drops an elbow into his opponent's back from a kneeling position. He gets back up and aims another, but Toxxic once more quickly rolls to one side and out of the ring, this time before Williams lets himself fall. "TOXX-IC SUCKS!" "TOXX-IC SUCKS!" A few of the more imaginative Australians are flapping their arms and making chicken noises at the straight-edger, but Stephens ignores them as he shifts his shoulders and tries to straighten his back out, then jogs around to the other side of the ring and rolls back in under the bottom rope while Williams looks on. "Yes, hit and run really is the approach Toxxic's going for here," Mak notes, "he's trying to do as much damage as possible in quick bursts, but the moment things go wrong he's getting himself out of the firing line to prevent Danny from building momentum, because when Williams is on a roll he's practically unstoppable." "That sounds like a wise plan to me," King nods. "I'm not saying it isn't," Francis admits, "but it's a little different to how Toxxic normally operates. For all his faults, he's a genius at exploiting any little miscalculation or overreaching from his opponent, so you'd think that winding things up to a high tempo may suit him. I think this more cautious approach might be the closest we're going to get from him to an admission of the quality of his opponent." Both men start to advance towards each other again. Williams keeps a careful eye on his opponent, expecting another basement dropkick attempt, but what actually happens this time is that Stephens shoots in headfirst and wraps his arms around Danny's right leg, looking for a takedown. Williams manages to land a forearm on Toxxic's back, but he's off-balance and it doesn't have quite the usual crushing power, so Toxxic is able to hang on and straighten up to unbalance Danny still further. From there Stephens hooks his right leg behind Danny's left and pushes forwards, toppling Williams back to the mat with the bigger man's right leg still in his grasp. "TOXX-IC SUCKS!" "TOXX-IC SUCKS!" Stephens doesn't hesitate, and instead flips forward taking the leg with him to snap it back and put stress on the tendons. Danny grunts in pain as Stephens lands beside him with the leg in his grasp, but the Englishman immediately releases the leg and grabs Williams' right arm instead, then performs a forward roll across the startled Lousville Elbower's stomach. Danny's weight almost foils the straight-edger, but he manages to lever Williams over onto his front and then applies a Fujiwara armbar! "Excellent," Suicide King golf claps, "excellent wrestling." "If Toxxic's going to stay in close with Danny Williams he needs his opponent to be on the mat when he does it," Mak Francis acknowledges. "From what I know of Danny's recent tenure in Japan he's using his old mat wrestling skills less and less so Toxxic may actually be able to outwit Danny on the canvas - he's certainly more manoeuvrable!" Toxxic wrenches back on the Fujiwara armbar while Brian Warner leans down to check on Danny's condition, but Deathwish waves him away. To be sure, a Fujiwara is a nasty move, but Toxxic doesn't have the strength or technical know-how to make it truly deadly, and besides Danny's huge arm is in good condition. So Williams grits his teeth, braces his legs and his free left arm against the mat, and starts to push himself towards the ring ropes that offer his most immediate and easiest way out of this. Toxxic tries to crank back on the hold and elicits another grunt of pain from the big man, but Danny's progress is unaffected and he's now only a foot or so away… 'OK Toxx, break it!' Warner orders as Danny's hand wraps around the bottom rope. Stephens obediently lets go and rolls away while Williams starts to get back to his feet, but the moment Danny reaches one knee Toxxic runs in and launches kicks at the arm. This new offensive takes Williams off his game long enough for Stephens to initiate an Irish whip, but not for long enough to complete it as Williams reverses the momentum and sends his opponent into the far ropes instead! Danny cocks his arm and lets fly with a signature elbow smash as Toxxic rebounds, but the canny Englishman ducks and it passes harmlessly over his head. Williams turns to try and draw a bead on his opponent… …only to find his head grabbed and Toxxic sitting out into a jawbreaker! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Williams staggers back, clutching at his face; Toxxic rolls back onto his back, then coils his legs and kips up to his feet- *whump-CRACK!* -before springing up to deliver an enzuigiri to the Louisville Elbower! "TOXX-IC SUCKS!" "Danny's not going down!" Mak shouts, and sure enough Williams is wobbling, but still upright. Stephens frowns as he looks up from his landing position, rolls onto his back and does it again- *whump-CRACK!* -this time knocking Danny to one knee, but no more! "LET'S GO DAN-E!" "LET'S GO DAN-E!" Williams looks dazed but he's still hanging in there; Stephens rolls onto his back again, kips up one more time and this time runs for the ropes behind Danny, exploding off them with a basement enzui-dropkick! *SMACK!* "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" "If at first you don't succeed, try try again Mak!" Suicide King says approvingly as Toxxic looks down at Williams with an expression of annoyance, then starts trying to turn the bigger man onto his back. "I thought your motto was 'if at first you don't succeed, cheat'?" "No, it was 'if at first you don't succeed at cheating, try try again'," King corrects his commentary partner. Meanwhile in the ring, Toxxic makes a cover… ONE! TW- -but Danny throws him clean off again! "YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" "LET'S GO DAN-E!" "LET'S GO DAN-E!" The chants of the crowd seem to galvanise Williams, who rolls over and shakes his head to try and dispel the effects of Toxxic's attacks, then begins to push himself up to his feet. Stephens does the same but watches Williams warily, cautious of the overwhelming strength shown so far by the American. However, Danny isn't satisfied with that and slaps his chest, daring Toxxic to come try him again! "LET'S GO DAN-E!" "LET'S GO DAN-E!" Toxxic has always found it difficult to resist a direct challenge where there's the chance of proving someone wrong, and given he has a fairly good record so far in rushing Williams he starts to advance carefully, not wanting to telegraph his final target. Williams carefully balances himself, ready to react… and Stephens suddenly makes his move, onto to find Danny shooting low and grabbing him around the thighs, then rearing up with Toxxic in his grasp before twisting and dropping to the mat with a double-leg slam! "Beautiful technique from Williams, and now Toxxic is right where he doesn't want to be!" Mak shouts, "Danny's got the weight and strength advantage, and from here he should be able to control his opponent!" Toxxic has had the breath knocked out of him by the impact but he has enough instincts to turn over onto his stomach to prevent an immediate pin; Williams responds by scooting around to the front of his opponent with surprising nimbleness, then tries to wrap one massive arm around Toxxic's head for a front facelock. Stephens gets his left arm up to block it, preventing Danny from getting it cinched in properly, but Williams has a reply to that and simply reaches forward to slam his forearm down hard onto the straight-edger's back! *WHUMP!* *WHUMP!* *WHUMP!* Toxxic coughs, desperately trying to draw air into his lungs, but he manages to keep his arm where it is and prevent Danny from easily securing the facelock. Williams backs off and waits for his moment; Toxxic starts trying to push himself up to get out of this compromising position but he doesn't move as fast as he'd like, and that gives Danny a chance to rush in and secure a side headlock on the startled straight-edger! "A headlock?" King sniffs, "please. Mak, is this Danny Williams the Great Wrestler we see in front of us?" "The effectiveness of a move can be just as much about how you use it as how 'flashy' it is," Mak Francis argues as Williams tightens the grip of his massive arms, "you don't need a thousand different facebuster variations or three hundred backbreakers to win a match. What's the most complicated move you've ever seen Danny Williams perform, King? A stepover facelock? The Buffalo Sleeper?" "So what are you saying, that Williams is too dumb to use complicated moves?" King asks. "Not at all," Mak replies, "I'm saying that Danny Williams doesn't need to use complicated moves when he's got so far just by doing reasonably simple ones very, very well." Toxxic wraps his arms around his opponent's waist, positions his legs to try and give himself the best base possible, then starts lifting upwards to try and take Williams up and over with a backdrop suplex… but Williams simply clamps down on the headlock and increases the pressure on Toxxic's skull, and the Englishman's attempt sputters out as the flash of pain overrides his intentions! "LET'S GO DAN-E!" "LET'S GO DAN-E!" "I can't believe this," Suicide King grumbles as the fans start clapping and chanting in support of their favourite, "a match like this on Pay-Per-View, and what does Williams do? A headlock." "But why not?" Mak argues again. "You just saw how he was able to use the nature of the hold to prevent Toxxic from trying to get out in that way. He's positioned in the middle of the ring, a long way away from any ropes so Toxxic won't be able to get a rope break… it works and it's allowed in the rules, so why not use it?" However, it seems that Danny Williams does think that maybe things could do with a little spicing up. Accordingly the big man shifts his position a little, takes a step back with his left leg and then pops his hips, dragging Toxxic over and around by his head and taking the Englishman down to the mat! *BANG!* "LET'S GO DAN-E!" "LET'S GO DAN-E!" "Even more boring," King groans. "Even more controlling," Francis argues, "with Danny's weight advantage Toxxic will find it difficult to get out of this from on his back." Sure enough, Stephens has very little leverage to use and he can't force his way up against Williams' 270lbs. The straight-edger tries another approach and wraps his arms around Danny's waist again, then tries to heave Deathwish over his own body in order to stack him on his shoulders for a pin, but Williams simply tightens up his grip again and that combined with the weight of his opponent means that Toxxic's attempt fails and he slumps back. "So come on then Mr. Move Guru, what does all this headlocking achieve?" King asks. "Well, if you really want to know," Mak grins, "Williams has his weight partially over Toxxic's chest, which will restrict his breathing. The arm around his head has the potential to partially restrict the flow of blood to his head, plus the pressure on Toxxic's skull just plain hurts. Aside from the benefits of Toxxic being dizzy if and when he gets up, as well as his head already hurting for when Danny goes for the Axe Bomber, the sheer frustration of being stuck in this hold for so long might make Toxxic over-eager and prone to mistakes when he gets out." "Congratulations Francis, I think you've just polished off the few viewers who had managed to remain awake so far," King offers. "If it means they don't have to listen to you, I'll have done them a favour." Toxxic's legs suddenly snake up, looking to wrap around Danny's head and drag Deathwish off and into a headscissors; Williams throws his left arm up to fend them off, then reasserts his grip and ducks out of the way as Toxxic tries again. However, this new offensive prompts Danny to take action and the Louisville Elbower starts cautiously getting up to his feet, careful to ensure that at no point does he relax his grip and allow Toxxic to slip away or provide an opportunity that the ever-vigilant Englishman could use to escape. However, this time Toxxic has another idea and he starts firing forearms into Danny's back, looking to dislodge the bigger man. Danny holds on to the headlock and grits his teeth, but the blows are starting to become uncomfortable even for someone with his mass. Finally, after about the fifth or sixth shot Toxxic feels Williams wince, and that small movement is enough for him to bull forwards and get Williams a step towards the ropes. Danny is now in a less balanced stance and Toxxic keeps hitting and keeps shoving… "Thank God!" King gives praise, "the end is in sight!" Danny is being manoeuvred towards the ropes but is still able to keep his body between them and Toxxic, making it more difficult for the straight-edger to reach out and grab them for a break. Toxxic reacts to this by trying to move Danny in as fast as possible and gets Williams into the cables at a reasonable speed, causing the bigger man to rebound and allowing Toxxic to shove him off and away… …or at least that's the plan, but Danny clamps onto the headlock and tows Toxxic with him, maintaining the hold and dragging Stephens away from the ropes before he can grab on to get a ropebreak! "LET'S GO DAN-E!" "LET'S GO DAN-E!" "Arrgh! I don't believe it!" King fumes. "Look at Williams! He's desperately holding on because he knows he can't control Toxxic!" "That's a load of crap," Mak Francis retorts, "Danny's in complete control! He's using a simple, easy to apply hold and is making it work. It's true that it's a handy way of slowing down an opponent who's far faster than him, but the work it's doing is offensive, not defensive!" Williams smiles slightly as the chants and applause of the Australian crowd rise around him once more, but he doesn't want to give Toxxic a chance like that again so he adjusts his feet once more, then pops his hips again to take the Englishman back down to the mat! *BANG!* Toxxic lands hard, the breath is driven from his lungs and Williams leans on him slightly, forcing both shoulders onto the mat… ONE! …but Toxxic reacts instantly by bringing both legs up, and this time he manages to lock them around Williams' head before the Kentucky native can react! Toxxic locks his legs into a tight headscissors and hauls downwards, eventually forcing Williams to release the headlock and pulling Deathwish down. However, Danny isn't going to be cowed so easily and has no intention of getting stuck in a hold himself, so he reaches up and grabs Stephens' legs. To Toxxic's horror, Danny starts to prise his opponent's grip loose! "YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Danny levers his opponent's legs apart, then shoves Toxxic's legs aside and falls down with an elbow that strikes right into the Englishman's ribcage; from there he rolls into a cover… ONE! TWO!! …but Stephens kicks out! "See King?" Mak says, with just a trace of smugness, "a headlock and an elbow drop, and Danny has got closer to a pinfall than Toxxic has so far." "Oh, shut up," King growls. ********** ********** "LET'S GO DAN-E!" "LET'S GO DAN-E!" "I don't believe this!" Mak shouts, "Danny's arms are stronger than Toxxic's legs!" "That's the roids!" King shouts back. However, given the massive physique of the wrestler in question Mak Francis shouldn't be that surprised that Danny can out-power Toxxic; Williams forces his arms down further, causing more strain to appear on his opponent's face, then with a sudden jerk Danny snaps his arms right down and traps Toxxic's legs underneath them! "LET'S GO DAN-E!" "LET'S GO DAN-E!" Toxxic seems rather alarmed at this development and leans forward to paste Danny in the back of the head with a right hand, much to Brian Warner's displeasure. Unfortunately for the Englishman it doesn't do him much good because although Williams' face shows some pain as the blow strikes his recently-attacked neck, Danny then twists to one side and rolls over onto his front. Toxxic's trapped legs means he has to roll with the American's greater bodyweight and ends up on his front as well, and this allows Williams to release the legs but instantly throw his weight forward onto his opponent. A small 'Toxx Loves Buttsex' chant starts up at ringside, but the potentially suggestive positioning doesn't last long as Williams shoots his arms underneath his opponent and grabs a rear waistlock, then carefully starts to brace his legs against the canvas. Toxxic suddenly realises what's going on and tries to wriggle free, but he's too late… *BANG!* "YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" "Wheelbarrow German Suplex from Danny Williams!" Mak Francis shouts as Toxxic crashes back-first into the canvas, "Deathwish just swung Toxxic through one hundred and eighty degrees and nearly sent him through the ring!" "LET'S GO DAN-E!" "LET'S GO DAN-E!" Toxxic lays on his back looking up at the lights with the breath blasted from his lungs; Danny Williams rolls on top and hooks the leg… ONE! TWO!! …but Toxxic kicks out! Williams doesn't seem best pleased with that result but rather than arguing with the referee the Kentucky native grabs his opponent and starts hauling him to his feet. Once he has Toxxic at something approaching a vertical base Williams easily scoops the straight-edger off his feet and places him over one shoulder like a man positioning a sack of potatoes for easy transport and heads towards the corner to maximise the amount of run-up he can get. Toxxic tries to reach out and grab onto the ropes to save himself but to no avail and Danny turns, starts to run… "Running powerslam-" Mak shouts. *BANG!* "-with authority!" Williams goes for the cover again, prompting Warner to hit the mat once more… ONE! TWO!! TH- -but Toxxic kicks out one more time, refusing to die just yet! "LET'S GO DAN-E!" "LET'S GO DAN-E!" This time Williams does cock an enquiring eyebrow at the referee, just to check that Brian Warner doesn't think he made that two count too long, but the referee is certain he got it right. Williams sighs, pushes his long hair back from his face and stands up, then backs off into the corner again. He absent-mindedly starts rolling his right arm, ready for Toxxic to get back to his feet… which takes the straight-edger a little time, but slowly Stephens gets his breath back and begins to struggle up. Williams waits for the right moment, waits until Toxxic starts to turn towards him and then charges- *CRACK!* -but he waited a second too long, and before he can lash an arm out for the Axe Bomber Toxxic dives into a soccer tackle and scythes Williams' legs from under him! "POMM-IE FAG-GOT!" *clap clap clap-clap-clap* "POMM-IE FAG-GOT!" *clap clap clap-clap-clap* Now it's Danny's turn to struggle up to his feet, desperate to get his vertical base under him again so he at least has his strength and leverage advantage over his opponent. However Danny isn't the only man who's desperate at the moment, and Stephens scrambles back to his feet and lunges to grab a front facelock. Toxxic dispenses with the usual showboating and just whips his right arm around, sitting out and smashing Danny's head into the canvas with an elbow-drive bulldog! *WHAM!* "Unfinished Business!" Mak shouts, "and a cover!" ONE! TWO!! …but Danny kicks out! Toxxic slams his hand on the mat in frustration and starts to pull Danny up, then with the Louisville Elbower only halfway to his feet he crosses Danny's arms over his own throat. Before Williams can react or try and untangle himself Stephens brings him fully to his feet, then turns back-to-back before sitting out with a Goku-Raku neckbreaker, but then rolls over onto his front and pulls Danny with him with the arms still in position. From there Stephens bridges forwards, arcing his body above Danny's and wrenching backwards on the Goku-Raku choke and doing his best to haul Danny's head upwards! "Inverted Goku-Raku Clutch from Toxxic," Mak calls. "Call it what it is Francis," King snaps, "it's a bastardised Snowflake Clutch!" Certainly, Toxxic picked this trick up from his old stablemate-turned-rival 'The Critic' Scott Pretzler, but in creating a more flashy move the Englishman lost some of the effectiveness of the deadly hold perfected by the Canadian. Not only can Toxxic not get quite as much 'pull' on his opponent, the bridging hold is also less easy to maintain; Toxxic struggles, but it's less than half a minute before he has to release the hold and collapses. Danny Williams gasps some air into his lungs - his bodyweight meant Toxxic couldn't haul him back far, but his breathing was still restricted and he's feeling a little light-headed. However Danny knows that his best chance is still to get back to his feet where he can maximise what agility he has and stands a better chance of dodging any attacks launched at him, so he starts to get up once more… …and Toxxic leaps on him, snaring the bigger man with a bodyscissors and snaking his arms underneath Danny's to apply a double-underhook, locking Deathwish into the RTF II! "POMM-IE FAG-GOT!" *clap clap clap-clap-clap* "POMM-IE FAG-GOT!" *clap clap clap-clap-clap* "You can chant all you like," King chortles at the Australian fans, "there's no way out of that! Williams is a goner!" It may seem tempting to agree. Toxxic has his hands laced tight and his grip has forced Danny's arms upwards at an awkward angle, while his left arm presses Williams' head down and restricts his breathing; an effect not helped by the bodyscissors he's applying with his legs. Williams struggles but it's all he can do not to topple forwards and add what would effectively be a double-arm DDT into the mix as well. "POMM-IE FAG-GOT!" *clap clap clap-clap-clap* "POMM-IE FAG-GOT!" *clap clap clap-clap-clap* Brian Warner bends down to check on Danny's condition, but the big man's response is muffled yet emphatic. Toxxic grins; Danny Williams passed out in the original Repeat To Fade, and this is the upgraded version… …but Danny has other ideas. "Look at Danny!" Mak shouts, as Williams lets out a roar and his entire body tenses. For a moment it seems as if nothing's happening… but then his arms start to creep downwards. Toxxic's face changes from delight to horror as he realises what's happening and he tries to reassert his grip, but Williams' force is overwhelming and his clasped hands are torn apart! "YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Before Toxxic can recover Danny wraps his newly-freed arms around his opponent's waist, then charges forward with only one destination in mind- *WHAM!* "LET'S GO DAN-E!" "LET'S GO DAN-E!" "Danny Williams just powered out of the RTF II, then mashed Toxxic against the turnbuckles!" Mak Francis yells in amazement as Toxxic slumps against the pads while Williams backs off, trying to massage some life back into his arms and loosen up his neck, "I've never seen anyone break that hold with sheer brute strength before!" "Roids damnit, roids!" the Gambling Man responds hotly. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- "And the winner of this clip-segment, as a result of-" "SHUT UP!" -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- "Danny Williams finally hits the Rolling Elbow!" Mak shouts, as Williams comes to a halt shaking his right arm out while Toxxic hits the mat bonelessly, "that could do it right there!" Williams certainly hopes so; he drops to make the cover and Brian Warner follows him down to count… ONE! TWO!! TH- -but Toxxic kicks out! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" "Not this time!" Mak shouts, "but Toxxic's got to be nearly done for after that!" "Don't you believe it Francis!" King shouts back, "there's still fight in the Straight-Edge Sensation!" Danny doesn't care; he grabs Toxxic by the head, drags him up into a standing headscissors and reaches down to wrap his arms around his opponent's torso. Whatever the work done on his right arm, Williams knows he can lift this bastard and he does so without any stalling… *BANG!!* …then drives him down with a powerbomb! He follows up with the cover almost immediately- ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEE- -NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" "THAT WAS THREE!" "THAT WAS THREE!" "Danny Williams was certain he had Toxxic that time," Mak Francis shouts over the crowd noise, "and so was I, but Brian Warner is adamant!" "STAAAAAAAAAAAAAND AND DELIVAH~!" "Adamant, you moron!" Mak yells in frustration as King, overcome with relief, breaks into impromptu song. "LET'S GO DAN-E!" "LET'S GO DAN-E!" The Australian fans are rallying behind Deathwish again and the big Kentucky native wants to end this as soon as possible. He drags the wobbly Toxxic up, latches on to Stephens' right wrist with his left hand and takes a step back to fully extend both their arms, then wrenches Toxxic in towards him while bringing his right arm around for a short-arm Axe Bomber that will surely seal the deal… …but Toxxic ducks, wrapping Danny's arm around his own body, then rolls and throws his left arm up between Danny's legs to bring the big man over into a schoolboy pin! ONE! Williams struggles to free himself… TWO!! …but now it's Toxxic grabbing his wrist, holding Deathwish in what's virtually a half-straight-jacket… TH- -but Danny kicks out! "YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" "Damn it Warner, that was three!" King seethes as Toxxic relives Danny Williams' frustration from a few moments ago (albeit with a rather less clear head). Danny is slightly disorientated from the surprise pin and starts to push himself up, giving the woozy Toxxic the opening he needs; he scrambles forwards and grabs a front facelock, then drives Danny's head into his knee with a facebuster before falling backwards into a DDT! *CRUNCH-WHAM!* "Sobering Thought!" Mak shouts and names the old move combination, "we haven't seen that in a couple of years!" Toxxic is more or less running on automatic now, but he's still aware of the need to press home this sudden advantage and prevent Danny Williams from regaining any momentum. The moment Danny starts trying to rise Stephens jumps on him and grabs both arms in a double-underhook before hauling Williams up; he doesn't give him a chance to power out this time, instead hauling him into a standing headscissors and wrenching him UP… …AROUND… …AND… …DOWN! *BANG!* "Stephens Shock Syndrome!" Mak shouts, "Danny's so heavy he could only get about a quarter-rotation on it, but that might do the trick!" Sure enough Toxxic didn't get the height or the spin that he wanted, but rolls Williams onto his back nonetheless and makes the cover… ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRR- -but Danny kicks out again! "POMM-IE FAG-GOT!" *clap clap clap-clap-clap* "POMM-IE FAG-GOT!" *clap clap clap-clap-clap* The fans still don't seem to be getting under Toxxic's skin, although now it might be more because he can't hear them; the Straight-Edge Sensation takes half a second to answer Brian Warner's two-fingered gesture with a rather less pleasant one, then staggers to his feet and heads for the turnbuckles. "We haven't seen Toxxic go up top too many times this match," Mak Francis says, "in fact I think this is the first time… that might seem surprising, but don't forget that Danny countered a missile dropkick with the Axe Bomber in their last meeting for the win, so maybe Toxxic didn't want to risk it unless he had to!" It certainly seems that Toxxic feels he has to now. The Straight-Edge Sensation's trip to the top rope is not as quick or as fluid as often seen, but after a couple of seconds of wincing and clambering he stands on the top buckle facing down into the ring. He raises both arms above his head… …and somersaults off forwards, coming down with the Hangover for the second time this match! *WHAM!* "Nailed it!" King shouts, "cover him! Cover him!" Toxxic does just that and crawls into position, hooking one of Williams' thick legs as he does so… ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH- -but Danny kicks out again! "YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" "SWEET ZOMBIE JESUS!" King screams, "Warner, are you blind or just retarded!?" "It was TWO!" Mak Francis shouts back, "like it or not Brian, it was TWO!" The Acer Arena has gone wild, the cheers of the crowd nearly blowing the roof off. Toxxic looks as Brian Warner with exasperation and no little dislike, then grabs hold of Williams' hair. He ignores the referee's complaints and begins to haul on it, figuring that it's probably the easiest way to bring Danny up to his feet. "Even if it was two, and that's not an admission," Suicide King snarls, "look at Williams! He's done in! It won't take much for Toxxic to finish him off now!" "How much do you think Toxxic has left?" Mak asks, "he's exhausted!" Appearances can be deceiving. Toxxic is in pain certainly, but his cardio is one of the best around. He might not be able to take too many more hits, but he's still got the energy to grab Danny in a ¾ headlock and set off towards the turnbuckles… …but Danny shoves the Englishman in the back, cutting off the attempt at the Sunny In England! Toxxic kills his momentum, turns back towards his opponent as Danny starts spinning… "YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAooooooooohhhhhhhhhhh…" …but the rolling elbow misses! Danny stops his momentum in turn and swings around to try and catch his opponent, but he's just that bit slower… …and he finds himself taken off his feet in a Fireman's carry. "What the hell?" Mak Francis asks, "what's Toxxic doi-" One arm snakes around Danny Williams' head. The other curls around his left leg. Then Toxxic shrugs his shoulders and twists, spilling Williams off and sending him down headfirst towards the mat. "-ng?" *BAM!* "CAFFEINE BOMB MK II!" King roars as Danny Williams lands and Toxxic just manages to maintain the pinning cradle. Brian Warner dives to count… ONE! When Toxxic brings the Caffeine Bomb to the table, it's usually over. TWO!! Only two people have ever kicked out. THHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE- -NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Make that three people. "YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" "LET'S GO DAN-E!" "LET'S GO DAN-E!" "NO! NO! Williams kicked out!" Mak Francis yells as Suicide King suffers a coughing fit beside him, "I think that in initiating the move from the Fireman's carry Toxxic lost a bit of the angle of the drop, it wasn't as clean as when he starts it from a suplex position! Either that, or Danny Williams is just one tough motherfucker, and I'll apologise for my language when this match is over!" "You're shitting me!" King screams, finding his breath, "how was that not three? How!?" It's a question Toxxic seems to be asking as well. Brian Warner can only exchange a shocked look with the Straight-Edge Sensation, but he's certain that Williams got his shoulder off the mat before his hand touched the canvas for the third time. Toxxic's eyes narrow and the Englishman starts trying to haul Williams up, then gives up after a few seconds and backs away, motioning Warner to stay well out of the way as well. Then, with Danny starting to try and push himself up to his feet, Toxxic stands up straight… …and mimes cracking open a can. "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" "If he hits a second Caffeine Bomb you can say goodnight to Danny Williams," Mak Francis exclaims, "I just wonder if Deathwish has anything left to stop him!" Danny, possibly concussed and certainly not too sure about where he is, starts to struggle up. It takes him several seconds, but he makes it, facing away from his opponent. Behind him, Toxxic mimes taking a couple of large, healthy swigs from his can… "TOXX-IC SUCKS!" "TOXX-IC SUCKS!" The fans aren't even firing off inventive abuse now, such is the tension in the air. Danny turns around… …and gets taken up into another Fireman's carry. Wash, rinse, repeat. *BAM!* "That's it!" King shouts, "it's over!" ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE …NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! "…YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" It takes half a second for to sink in to the crowd that they haven't just seen the winning pinfall, but when it does they respond with a roar nearly loud enough to be heard back in Auckland! "What the fuck!?" King yells, fortunately barely audible over the din. "He kicked out! Danny Williams still kicked out!" Mak Francis yells. *********** *********** However, Mak Francis may have been premature. Toxxic tries for another Fireman's carry, but Danny Williams has other ideas. He may have been dropped on his head a couple of times but Deathwish has also had a few more seconds to recover than before, and his instincts kick in. So he fires elbows down into Toxxic's back once, twice, three times. And his right arm may be hurting from all the blows it's struck and the damage it's taken in the match, but it's still good enough to bring Toxxic's attempts to a halt. Try as he might, the Englishman can't help but set Danny back down and stumble backwards holding his back… …and Williams turns, then runs for the ropes. He hits, rebounds and accelerates… …and this time, Toxxic has no response. *WHAM!* "YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" "AXE BOMBAAAAAAHHHHHHHH~!" Mak Francis yells at the top of his deteriorating lungs, "HE HIT IT! DANNY HIT IT!" Danny Williams falls to his knees, then topples forwards onto his front. "YES!" King shouts almost in desperation, "he's down! He can't make the cover!" For a few seconds both men just lie on the mat as Brian Warner looks down at them and starts considering if he'll survive the riot that will ensue from a double count-out. Thankfully Danny Williams seems to be saving him from the decision. "LET'S GO DAN-E!" "LET'S GO DAN-E!" The Louisville Elbower starts to struggle up, but his right arm doesn't seem to take his weight as well as his left. He winces and instinctively grabs at it as he starts to get up to his knees - that last shot to Toxxic's face has done it no favours. He spends one potentially crucial second holding it, then shuffles around to look for his opponent. He overran Toxxic; the Englishman is sprawled on the mat a few feet behind him. Danny, still on his knees, crosses the distance as best he can and drops into the cover to sprawl one heavy arm across Toxxic's chest… ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! …NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" "YES! YES-YES-YES-YES-YES!!" King roars, "he kicked out! D'you hear me, Francis! Toxxic kicked out! He kicked out of the Axe Bomber!" "He kicked out of the Axe Bomber, with about a ten-second delay!" Mak Francis answers, struggling for rationalisation, "at least! Danny had taken two Caffeine Bombs, he'd hurt his arm, he couldn't get into the cover quick enough… ah screw it, what the fuck is going on here!?" Brian Warner must be wondering where the number three went tonight. Danny Williams seems to be wondering the same thing. Referee and wrestler just stare at each other in disbelief. "King, I don't think anyone has ever kicked out of the Axe Bomber before," Mak Francis says tightly, "I could be wrong… and I'm pretty sure Danny's never had to wait that long until he could make a pin before…" "Mak, if Toxxic wasn't straight-edge I'd want him tested for PCP or something," King answers, "as it is, I think Danny must be on it anyway! No-one kicks out of two Caffeine Bombs! Toxxic's never had to use two Caffeine Bombs before!" Williams staggers up to his feet, then reaches down and starts to drag Toxxic up after him. The first time he tries the Straight-Edge Sensation simply slumps back down to the mat; the second time and Toxxic seems to get the idea, starts to support his own bodyweight and makes a vague attempt to rise. Whether he knows who's helping him up, and why, is anybody's guess, but that doesn't matter now. What matters is that Danny Williams is backing off… and this time he tears the elbow pad off, then hurls it into the crowd. "YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" No more mistakes. "FUCK HIM UP DAN-NY, FUCK HIM UP!" Toxxic manages to stand on two feet, on legs that seem to be made of jelly. He sways. "FUCK HIM UP DAN-NY, FUCK HIM UP!" He turns. "FUCK HIM UP DAN-NY, FUCK HIM UP!" Danny Williams charges and lashes out with everything he has, looking to knock Toxxic down and keep him down. "FUCK HIM UP DAN-NY…" But Toxxic isn't as tough as Danny. He's never had the luxury of being able to soak up the opponent's most devastating moves time after time. Toxxic, Michael Stephens; the name doesn't matter. Even in the depths of his anger-charged soul, he knows his limitations. "…FUCK HIM UP!" He can't afford to let lightning strike twice. *CRACK!* 'AARRGH!' Danny Williams pinwheels away, clutching his arm where it struck both of Toxxic's forearms, raised at the last moment to deflect the blow. The force of impact knocked Toxxic off his feet again, but the straight-edger sees Williams hurt and the sight acts like a final jolt of adrenaline. He half-surges, half-staggers up to his feet, running on empty but ready for one last throw of the dice as Danny's circling brings him back around… …and Toxxic bends his legs slightly, then takes Danny up onto his shoulders. For a moment it looks like he won't be able to take the weight, but then he straightens. He turns. And he walks towards the ring steps that he brought into the squared circle earlier. "TOXX-IC SUCKS!" Brian Warner tries to get in the way, but Toxxic isn't stopping so he gets out of the way again. After all, he can just DQ the man if he tries anything. "TOXX-IC SUCKS!" Toxxic reaches the steel steps and stands over them… then places one foot on the first step. And steps up. "TOXX-IC SUCKS!" "King, he's not going to drop Danny onto them…" Mak gasps in horror. "TOXX-IC SUCKS!" One foot goes onto the second step. And Toxxic steps up. "TOXX-IC SUCKS!" This time, Toxxic's legs do start to go. But that doesn't matter anymore. All he has to do is stagger forwards and swing Danny Williams off his shoulders one more time… *BAM!!* "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" "CAFFEINE BOMB MK II OFF THE STEPS!" Mak screeches. Brian Warner dives to count the pin. ONE! A sheer drop from this height worked for Va'aiga. TWO!! A sheer drop from this height worked for Janus. THHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! 'THREE! RING THE FUCKING BELL!' *DING-DING-DING!* A sheer drop from this height has worked for Toxxic. "TOXX-IC SUCKS!" "TOXX-IC SUCKS!" "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, HERE IS YOUR WINNER," Funyon booms, trying to make himself heard, "THE 'STRAIGHT-EDGE SENSATION', TOXXXXXXXXX-IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIC!!" "IT'S OVER!" 'The Franchise' Mak Francis yells, "it's finally over! We must have thought this match had been won half a dozen times at least, but it's over now! Danny Williams went through hell and back, he did things that I never even thought were possible, but in the end it still wasn't enough! It came down to one last gamble, one last throw of the dice, and Toxxic came out luckier in the end!" "Are you a gambling man Francis!?" the Suicide King whoops, "don't you know that a King beats a Jackass!? You know what we've seen here today? Justice! Toxxic has proved once and for all that Danny Williams is not on his level!" "How can you say that!?" Francis rages, "Toxxic had to work harder than he ever has before to beat Danny here tonight! Toxxic's pulled out the Caffeine Bomb twice in the last six months, he had to use three against Danny in one match! This was the closest damn match I've seen in years!" Brian Warner reaches down and takes hold of Toxxic's right hand, then raises it; the man himself fell backwards the moment the pinning cradle of the Caffeine Bomb was no longer required, but the familiar motion seems to spark a couple of neurones into life and the Straight-Edge Sensation starts to struggle up towards his feet. "TOXX-IC SUCKS!" -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- "And so ended one of the most emotionally charged matches at From the Fire," Hardy says, leading us back into the studio. "It took no less than THREE Caffeine Bombs, one from off the steps, for Toxxic to finally put Deathwish away. Coming up, we'll take a look at-" "THE FOLLOWING CLIP SEGMENT IS OUR MAAAAAAAAIN EVE-" "For the love of GOD, raise the mic already!"

The participants of the previous match have cleared the ring, and referee Ced Ordonez is still in the ring awaiting the next match when a red flash fills the arena. Ced looks to Funyon asking if this is the next match, but Funyon shakes his head. The Fabulous Jakey, wearing his blood red sportcoat, emerges from the gorilla position and, unlike his previous two appearance, looks pissed off. With a shrug, Funyon announces his entrance. “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome THE FABULOUS JAKEY!” Jakey walks up the stairs and enters through the ropes, then asks Funyon for the mike. “Thank you,” Jakey smiles, then quickly puts an angry face. “Last week an atrocity occurred at From the Fire!” “You’re telling me!” Suicide King tells Francis. “Gabriel Drake lost the title!” “I don’t think he’s talking about that,” Francis snaps. “I am not just talking about my coat being ruined,” Jakey whines, “Although I did have my lawyer send JJ Johnson the receipt, and I expect to be reimbursed in full! No, my issue is with the outcome of the match. Can we roll the footage please?” Jakey cues up the big screen (Titantron?), and a replay of the finish from last week’s match is shown, with JJ reversing Jakey’s illegal pin into a sunset flip and Ced counting it one-two-three. “Do you remember this, Ceddie?” Jakey asks Ced, who nods affirmatively. “Okay, let’s put a little stopwatch on the bottom of the screen right there, shall we?” In the corner of a screen, a stopwatch runs and the sequence is replayed in slow-motion. “Now pause it when the third count is made!” Jakey cries, and the operator obliges. Ced’s hand hits the mat for the third time with the stopwatch reading a :00:02:58. “See?” Jakey whines. “That was not a 3-count! That was two point fifty-eight seconds! You should be fired!" Ced shakes his head. “I call it like I see it,” he defends. “Oh, you call it like you see it?” Jakey asks. “OK, that's fair. I understnad that. What do you call this?” Without warning, Jakey knees Ced in the groin, causing the man to fall to his knees. The crowd boos. “I can’t believe this guy!” Francis cries. Jakey removes his trenchcoat and starts to choke out Ced Ordonez with it, sticking his knee into his back for added measure! “Come on! Stop this!” Francis yells. “It’s only retribution!” Suicide King cries. Funyon runs into the ring and Jakey relinquishes the hold and backs off, taking his coat and getting out of the ring. Funyon checks on Ced and Jakey walks up the ramp with a vindicated smile on his face. “This newcomer has a real problem with his attitude,” Francis notes. “Three appearances, three times he’s kicked somebody below the belt!” Jakey raises both his arms at the top of the ramp, soaking up the crowd’s disapproval, while Ced and Funyon stare him down. “Something tells me this young man is gonna get what’s coming to him,” Mak insists, “And it’s gonna be sooner than later!”

Ham is a grossly overrated meat. Card's under construction, so anyone with booking requests, send 'em my way pwease.

Sadly, first-shift is not quite what I'm getting. I'm still early afternoons/evenings - the only difference is I'm getting the hell off the Overtime Desired List. Which means I'm getting my weekends back, and I'm no longer the first to be called into overtime, so I should be getting home at a reasonable hour every night, starting next week. Of course, now that I've said that, I'm sure everyone out there is going to start mailing belated Valentine's en masse, flooding our REC site, just to spite me. Assholes.

Who's the actress playing Lisa, the Veep's assistant? I know I've seen her before but I can't remember where, and it's driving me nuts. Decent if unspectacular season so far. The end of Hour 4 was so promising, but like the magic pill in Season 3, all of Jack's problems have just kind of vanished. Going from "I can't do this anymore" in tears back to ass-kicking Bauer in 3 seconds... meh. I don't mind so much them killing Assad, but I would've liked something a little better than "He's dead, let's move on". Oddly enough, I'm digging Lennox's plot more than anything else right now. I was pleasantly surprised when he turned himself in and ratted Reed out, and I'm hoping they find some way to keep things interesting with him in the bunker.

The trick is not to bet on all of the categories - just pick the big ones. I went 8 for 10, and am now $15 richer. Hooray!

8 for 9, with one to go... Come on, Babel! EDIT: Damn. 8 for 10. Still, I've got the tiebreaker, and am now $15 richer. Hooray!

I honestly know nothing about MySpace. Toxx, next time we collide on AIM, give me the "MySpace for Dummies" crash course. Regarding moving - as long as it's organized, I don't think it would do too much damage to us. Moving to TSM kinda fucked us because IGN just changed the locks one night, but a real, organized move shouldn't hurt us. The only question is how much, if at all, we'll benefit - and here again, I know jack shit about MySpace, so I'll wait til I'm more edumacated on it before weighing in on that.

Overtime = ghey. Sorry I couldn't call in tonight. The big question - how will the Oscars affect Skull Radio's ratings?!?!

It damn well better win Best Picture. I've got $5 riding on it. Personally, I'd love to see Little Miss Sunshine win, but most of the columns from "experts" said Babel was the best bet. I'm tied right now, and the only category we differ on now is Best Picture - I say Babel, mom says The Queen. And she already won the damn Superbowl betting - I refuse to let her win again.

Thanks. Didn't know IMDB was doing updates - I'll head over there. Still, I'm pleased to see that in the 10 categories my family's gambling on, I've only missed one so far - I picked Cars over Happy Feet. Harumph.

TV's tied up, so I can't watch - anyone wanna list the winners for me so far? Pretty please?