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FADE IN “We’ve got some great tag team action coming up,” says Mak Francis, “as Landon Maddix and Chris Raynor get ready to square off against Wild and Dangerous. This will be Wildchild’s first match back since suffering a concussion at the hands of Revolution Zero.” “A match which saw Revolution Zero rescue the World Tag Team Championship from the two pretty boys!” the Suicide King adds gleefully. “Unfortunately for all of us, they’re still entitled a rematch, and we could very well see a return to the tag title reign of Wild and Dangerous… or, as I like to call it, the long, national nightmare.” “King’s opinion notwithstanding,” Mak says to the fans watching at home, “that’s a match that I’m sure that most of our great fans will be looking forward to as much as I am… And I’m really looking forward to this match as well! King, we’re going to be looking at a virtual history of the Tag Team division in the ring: between Maddix, Raynor, and Wild and Dangerous, we’re looking at thirteen different Tag Team Title reigns!” “Well, even I’ll admit that I’m interested by that particular subplot,” concedes King. “Wild and Dangerous have won a combined five tag team titles, but their going to be going up against two guys that have won four each, both with four different partners!” “That’s right,” adds Mak. “Wild and Dangerous mesh with each other better than any team that’s ever been put together, but Raynor and Maddix have proven that they can mesh well with just about anybody! We’ve already seen Wild and Dangerous compete against two of the most accomplished individual tag team wrestlers, in the form of Toxxic and Landon Maddix, and those contests were surprisingly even. Now, they’re going to have to face off against, bar none, the two most accomplished individual tag team wrestlers.” “Well, the one thing that team had going for it was Toxxic,” snipes King. “Toxxic was able to carry that twerp Maddix, and as accomplished as he is in the tag game, I don’t know that Raynor is up to that challenge!” “We’ll know in a few moments,” says Mak excitedly, “as we send it up to Funyon in the ring!” DING! DING! DING! “The following tag team contest is scheduled for one fall!” booms Funyon. REACH OUT AND TOUCH FAITH! Funyon suddenly finds himself interrupted, as Marilyn Manson’s shitty cover of Depeche Mode’s “Personal Jesus” signifies the arrival of the Next Generation! YEAAAAAAAAAAH! The fans show their appreciation as Landon Maddix and Chris Raynor make their way out to the ring, accompanied by Landon’s girlfriend Megan Skye. “Making their way towards the ring at this time,” booms Funyon, “and being accompanied by Megan Skye: at a total combined weight of four hundred fifty-nine pounds, the team of Chris Raynor, and the SWF Hardcore Champion, Landon ‘La Cucaracha’ Maddix!” Fans continue to show love for the two superstars as they make their way down to the ring; Landon leaps to the apron, looking out at the crowd as Megan climbs the steps. Megan holds open the ropes and Landon bounds into the ring, virtually ignoring Raynor as he spins himself into the center of the ring to pose with Megan. “Has there ever been a more insufferable twit than this guy?” grumbles King. “This guy hasn’t earned anything he’s ever gotten!” “Boy, this ought to be interesting,” teases Mak. “The Suicide King gets to call a match featuring his three least favorites superstars in the entire SWF… and at least one of them has to win!” “What a revolting development this is,” King agrees sadly. Landon’s theme mercifully fades out, to quickly give way to Uncle L and Busta Buss performing “Starsky & Hutch.” YEAAAAAAAAAAH! “Their opponents,” booms Funyon, “at a total combined weight of four hundred thirty-nine pounds: WILD! AAAAAND DAAAAANGEROUS!” Wildchild and Johnny dash out from behind the curtain together, slapping hands with the eager fans clamoring around the barricade. “The fans are thrilled to see Wild and Dangerous together again,” says Mak. “And look at that, King: Johnny Dangerous is coming out without the Heavyweight Championship, to show solidarity with his partner!” “This guy won’t stop at anything to pull the wool over Wildchild’s eyes,” snarls King. “We all know that he cares more about the Heavyweight Title than he does about their team… in fact, everybody knows that, except for that idiot Wildchild! But I don’t have any sympathy for him, either: he keeps sticking his head out to get his brains bashed in when Dangerous turns his back on him, and it’s only a matter of time before he does it again… so, as far as I’m concerned, he deserves it!” “I think you’re living too much in the past,” counters Mak, as Wild and Dangerous slide into the ring simultaneously. “Johnny has said that he’s committed to this team, and he’s going to do whatever it takes to prove that he’s still going to stand behind Wildchild, and he’s not going to let the Heavyweight Title come between them like he has before.” “Talk is cheap,” replies King, as “Starsky and Hutch” fades out. “Dangerous has to prove it to me… and, until he does, I’m going to go with what I’ve seen him do with my own two eyes.” Wild and Dangerous high-five each other before Johnny exits to the apron, leaving Wildchild to start the match as usual, against Landon Maddix; referee Red Herrington motions to the timekeeper to ring the bell, signifying the start of the match: DING! DING! DING! “Bell’s gone!” shouts Mak, “And we’re underway!” Landon and Wildchild circle each other tentatively, each looking for an attack point. “We’re about to see whether it’s rest or rust for Wildchild,” remarks King, as WC and Maddix meet in the center of the ring for a collar-and-elbow tie-up; the Next Generation takes control with a hammerlock, and looks out at the fans, an insufferably wide grin on his face. So preoccupied with being pleased with himself is Maddix, that he’s not prepared when Wildchild reverses the hammerlock on him, and then immediately pushes Landon towards the ropes; WC leaps into the air and hooks his hands behind Landon’s head as he rebounds, plants his feet into the Cockroach’s midsection, and launches him overhead with a beautiful Freefall monkey flip! Maddix quickly scrambles to his feet and charges towards Wildchild, but the Tropical Tumbler hooks his arm underneath Landon’s and takes him over with a hiptoss! WC takes Maddix down with another hiptoss, and then slams him into the canvas with his patented snap armdrag! “I think that answers your question,” says Mak, as Wildchild smoothly transitions to an armbar. “There’s no rust on Wildchild; he’s looking better than ever!” Maddix negotiates his way back to his feet and muscles Wildchild against the ropes; he buries a pair of knees into WC’s midsection to loosen his grip on the armbar and then whips him across the ring. Wildchild dives head-first towards the edge of the ring, and plants his hands on the canvas, straightening his body as he bounces like a board off the ropes and launches himself backwards to execute a handspring attack! Landon, anticipating such a move, ducks and runs underneath Wildchild as he flips overhead… but Maddix is, once again, so pleased with himself for such a clever maneuver, that he failed to notice that Wildchild landed on his feet behind him, rather than crashed and burned on the canvas. “Landon!” cries Raynor from the corner. “Turn around!” But alas, Maddix reacts a half-second too late, as he finds himself scooped into a slam by the Bahama Bomber! Wildchild leaps off the canvas almost before Maddix lands, and extends his leg to deliver a legdrop across Landon’s throat; in one fluid motion, WC immediately rolls to his feet and leaps off the canvas again, this time crashing down with a legdrop across the throat from the other side! Wildchild remains in this position to apply a cover: ONE! T— Landon kicks out at one; he gets to his feet, only to be taken back down by another snap armdrag! Landon once again fights his way back to his feet, and lowers his head as he backs WC into a neutral corner; Maddix buries his shoulder into Wildchild’s midsection, and then delivers a series of stinging reverse knife-edge chops to the chest, until Herrington calls for the break. Landon steps away from WC for a moment, and motions to Megan, who distracts the referee as Landon thumbs the Bahaman in the eyes. “Gah!” exclaims Mak. “Thumb to the eyes! Though I’m sure an old-school rulebreaker like you admires that, huh King?” “I don’t admire anything that Maddix does,” replies King stubbornly. Landon grabs Wildchild by the wrist and whips him across the ring, but the Human Hurricane leaps up to the top turnbuckle in a single motion, and springs back into the ring, extending his limbs to crash into Maddix with a flying cross-body block! WC hooks the legs as Herrington moves in to count: ONE! TWO! Landon kicks out at two! Wildchild beats Landon to his feet and applies a go-behind waistlock; he pushes Landon towards the edge of the ring, only for Maddix to grab on to the top rope and hang on when WC tries to pull him back into a rolling cradle… But the Tropical Tumbler recovers quickly, though, rolling to his feet and leaping high into the air as Maddix turns around, to lock his legs behind the Cockroach’s head and take him over with a scintillating rana! Landon gets back to his feet and rushes towards WC, only to be taken down by yet another snap armdrag! Maddix pounds the canvas in frustration, as the fans loudly voice their approval of the ring action. “A very fast-paced match so far, King,” says Mak, as Wildchild applies the armbar. “And that’s what Wildchild does best!” “Positively!” agrees King. “Hey, I’ll give him credit: when Wildchild’s on his game, he’s tough to beat, and when he’s got it all working like he has so far tonight, he’s in rarefied air… but he hasn’t wrestled in over a month, and at some point, you’ve got to be worried about fatigue setting in… as big a roll as he’s been on, he should think about making that tag here pretty soon!” Landon kicks and flops his way over towards the edge of the ring, where he slips his toe onto the bottom rope, and demands a break. Maddix shakes the feeling back into his arm as he backs into his corner and makes an over-the-shoulder tag to the Rayn-Man. “Tag is made,” says Mak, “and here comes Chris Raynor; King, I believe that this is the first time these two have ever been in the ring together!” Wildchild immediately tries to take control with a go-behind waistlock, but Raynor breaks WC’s grip and powers himself free; the Rayn-man grabs Wildchild’s left wrist and twists it into a top wristlock. “This’ll be interesting to see how Wildchild contends with Raynor’s power,” muses King. Wildchild, unable to break free, eases his way nonchalantly towards the edge of the ring; he grabs onto the top rope and, before Raynor realizes what’s happening, uses the top rope to leverage himself into a backflip that relieves the pressure, and then counters into a hammerlock! “Looks like he’s going to do the same thing to Raynor that he does to everyone else!” says Mak. “Namely, use that speed and agility to get out of sticky situations!” Annoyed, Raynor hauls off and throws his arm backwards, smashing WC in the side of the head with an elbow that causes him to release the hammerlock immediately; Raynor lifts Wildchild overhead into a press slam, but the Caribbean Cruiser nimbly squirms free, landing behind the Caveman and applying a waistlock! Wildchild pushes Raynor towards the ropes to try and catch him in a rolling cradle, but Chris hangs onto the top rope, and shrugs off his would-be aggressor; unlike his partner, Raynor also refrains from charging back towards the center of the ring at the waiting Wildchild. “Smart move by Raynor to not get sucked in,” notes Mak, as Wildchild gives Raynor a deferential nod and somersaults into his corner. “Oh, but there’s a smart move by Wildchild; get the fresh man into the ring!” “And this should be an interesting matchup,” says King. “You’ve got the two power men of each team in there now!” Johnny and Chris meet for a tie-up, and the Rayn-Man uses his bulk to force Johnny back against the edge of the ring; he backs away when Herrington calls for the break, only to surprise the Barracuda with a kneelift to the midsection! Chris grabs Johnny by the wrist and whips him across the ring, scooping him into his arms as he bounces off the ropes and twisting him around before dropping him back to the mat with a ferocious tilt-a-whirl slam! “Well, so far it’s fair to say that Raynor’s already fared better than his partner,” notes Mak. “That’s because his partner sucks!” Raynor pulls Johnny to his feet and traps him in a side waistlock; he lifts Johnny off the canvas and drops to one knee as he drives the Barracuda down onto his outstretched thigh, causing Johnny to gasp in pain. “Big move for the Rayn-Man!” says Mak. “He got all of that gutbuster!” Raynor pulls Johnny to his feet and drags him over to his corner, where he makes the tag to Landon; Maddix climbs up to the top rope and dives down into the ring to hammer Dangerous with a flying double-axe handle! Landon scoops Johnny up for a slam, and quickly tags Raynor back in. “Nice continuity by Maddix and Raynor,” says Mak, as Landon hold Johnny down for Chris to stomp him. “And I must say it’s a little surprising to see them get the first tag team offense in.” “Raynor came in and slowed the match down,” says King. “That’s been the difference!” Raynor pulls Johnny to his feet and whips him into a neutral corner; he rushes in to follow up with an attack, but the Barracuda gets his feet up at the last second, smashing the Caveman in the face! Chris staggers backwards away from the corner, giving Johnny enough daylight to charge out of the corner and traps Raynor in a front waistlock… CRACK! … Before cracking him in the top of the head with a Scorpion Kick! Johnny scrambles over to the corner and makes the tag to Wildchild, who enters the ring to help Johnny whip Raynor into the ropes; they leap into the air as he rebounds and level him with a double dropkick! Moving quickly, Wildchild scrambles over Raynor and covers him as Johnny heads out of the ring. Herrington drops and counts for: ONE! TWO! But Raynor powers out after two, sending the Bahaman rolling several feet away from him! “Talk about authority!” King marvels cheerily. Chris stands back to his feet and takes the few seconds he has to knock some of the cobwebs from his head, before he looks up to see Wildchild streaking towards him like an aquamarine colored bullet! Thinking fast, Raynor suddenly swings out his massive cannon hoping to knock WC back to the Caribbean with a lariat, but the Bahaman ducks underneath Raynor’s lariat and continues to the ropes behind him! “Come on! Knock him out!” King hollers at Raynor. “Don’t let him run circles around you like that!” WC hits the ropes and rockets off them; heading right towards his opponent he leaps into the air for a cross-body block – - but Raynor suddenly spins around and snatches the Bahama Bomber out of midair! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!” The crowd boos Chris Raynor as he stands straight up, holding onto WC even as he bucks and flails, “-and this could get really ugly for the Bahama Bomber in a hurry,” says Mak. “There is no way he can come close to matching Raynor’s strength.” Chris turns towards the Wild and Dangerous corner; he wants to make sure Dangerous gets a good eyeful of what is about to happen to his partner, “-but where the heck is Johnny?” asks King. Much to Chris’ surprise the Barracuda is anywhere but his corner… which could only mean – WHUMP! Dangerous comes in from behind and shoulder tackles Raynor’s leg, sending the former carnie toppling over backwards to the mat with WC right on top! “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!” King mutters; “That cheating son of a… ” Dangerous makes his move and then quickly exits to his corner with the referee admonishing him the entire way. Once Johnny is in his proper place the referee turns back and with WC lying on top of a face-up Raynor he counts a pin… ONE! TWO! CRACK! Landon kicks the toe of his boot into Wildchid’s head, ending the count at two! “This is just great!” King moans. “Not only do we have the biggest cheaters in Wild and Dangerous present but Maddix too! This match could go on forever!” “There called double teams King – it’s an integral part of tag team wrestling,” says Francis. “When they’re illegal double teams it’s called cheating!” the Gambling Man protests. “Johnny Dangerous hadn’t been the legal man for a good minute when he entered the ring to attack Chris Raynor. Same thing for Landon’s attack on Wildchild… and that wasn’t even a double team - that was Landon illegally breaking up the pin!” Landon heads back to his corner, while Chris and Wildchild both get back up to their feet. Wildchild’s feeling a little woozy after having his skull spiked by Landon’s boot and Raynor takes note of the situation and closes in on his opponent. “Wildchild might have been slowed from that attack and his speed was the biggest thing going for him against Chris Raynor,” Mak notes. Raynor knows that if he can just get a hold on Wildchild he can power him right out of this match. Unfortunately, getting a hold on Wildchild might be a little trickier than what he would have originally thought! He grabs Wildchild around the waist from behind but WC quickly grabs Chris’ arm and spins out and then quickly steps behind the former Carnie, locking that hammerlock into place once more! “However, I might also want to add in the fact that Wildchild is no stranger to facing opponents far stronger than him,” Francis corrects himself as WC cranks back on Chris’ arm and Raynor howls mercilessly! The crowd starts to get riled up in favor of the Bahaman once more while Landon pounds the stuffing out of the turnbuckle padding! “Come on, Chris,” King begs. “You’re five times stronger than this circus freak!” King’s comments seem to come almost on cue as Raynor abruptly spins around, easily ripping his arm free of WC’s grasp while swinging his free elbow around – CRACK! - and directly into Wildchild’s skull! WC staggers to the side having been knocked loopy and doesn’t give any resistance to Chris this time as the caveman grabs the Bahaman by his arm and quickly pulls him into a short-armed clothesline! WHAM! “See, a few of those powerful hits and WC is down for the count,” King sings. Raynor drops to his knees and applies a lateral press on Wildchild for: ONE! TWO! NO! Wildchild kicks out and rolls off his back! Raynor snatches WC in a side headlock—he isn’t about to let the Bahaman have an inch of space to get away—and walks him to the Madnor corner – Smack! “Tag is made and here comes Landon,” says Mak. Maddix hops over the ropes, into the ring, and then kicks WC in the gut! Having carefully subdued the Bahaman Landon grabs WC by one of his wrists while Raynor grabs the other, and the tag team tandem sends WC across the ring with a double Irish whip. Wildchild hits the ropes and rebounds while Chris drops to one knee and holds his other knee out… “What are these two up to now?” Francis looks on a bit perplexed, until Landon drops to the mat and catches WC with a drop toe hold – CRACK! -AND WC GOES FACE-FIRST INTO RAYNOR’S EXTENDED KNEE!! “OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHH!!” The crowd winces at the impact as do the announcers. “Oh my God!” hollers Mak. “Obviously Wild and Dangerous aren’t the only ones with some vicious double teams!” “You’ve forgotten that both of these guys are accomplished tag team wrestlers on their own,” King reminds his announcing partner. “I’m sure they came up with that one… well okay, I’m sure Raynor came up with that one and let Maddix in on it.” “Well Landon is his partner,” Mak stresses. Landon quickly makes the cover as Raynor exits the ring. ONE! TWO! THREE! CRACK! NO! Johnny drops kicks Landon off his partner right before the count of three! Herrington gets up to give Dangerous the what for when his attention is diverted by Raynor heading into the ring!! “NO! Get out of there Chris – it’s a set up!” King’s words are of no use. Chris charges in to put a whopping on Dangerous like never before, but the referee stops him ahead of time and orders him out of the ring! Unfortunately for Raynor the referee’s back turned to the opposition is never beneficial against a team that knows when to strike. Johnny grabs WC by the arm and drags him across the ring to the Wild and Dangerous corner, leaving him just a decent stretch from the post before going after Landon. “What a load of crap! How is the referee is going to let Wild and Dangerous get away with this!?” King spits. “He wouldn’t let them get away with it if he knew what Johnny was up to,” Mak answers heatedly. “If Raynor would stay in his spot the referee wouldn’t have to waste all of his time getting him to return to his corner!” Maddix dazedly stands up and gets belted with a foot in his gut by Dangerous, before getting dragged onto the Barracuda’s shoulder and them rammed into the mat with a, “-Spinal Explosion!” calls Francis. “I think that’s as much as Johnny’s going to get out of this one. Herrington looks to have Chris Raynor back out of the ring.” “And not a second to soon either,” King sarcastically says as Dangerous returns to his corner as well – the referee having seen none of it! Of course, the crowd loves every second of it and they roar in approval. Herrington can only look at Landon, see Wildchild’s new location and then look at Johnny standing in his corner holding the tag rope like he should be… and then throw up his arms in defeat. “And to think that he’s the World Heavyweight Champion and acting like that,” King hisses. Wildchild finally rolls over and reaches out to make the easy tag to Johnny. Dangerous comes into the ring and though Landon is trying to make his way to his corner he doesn’t have a chance of making it in time. Dangerous grabs Landon by his ankle then drags him back to the middle of the ring, making sure to keep him at a good distance from his partner… as well as to make sure that Landon is no where near the ropes. Johnny raises up Landon’s leg and then steps over… “Dangerous is looking to clinch in the Barracuda, his deadly over-the-shoulder half crab,” Francis says, as Johnny tries to lock the move in and the crowd moves to the edge of their seats to see it locked in. Landon bucks and flails to try and worm his way free, knowing all to well the dangers of getting trapped in this. Finally, Landon shakes Johnny off him and then rolls up to his feet before taking off for the far side of the ring. Landon hits the ropes and comes rocketing back towards the Barracuda, looking to land a monstrous lariat! NO! Johnny ducks down to narrowly avoid the clothesline, pops up from behind Maddix and shoots the leg. “This could be the match! He’s going for –” shouts Mak, and Johnny lifts Maddix off the mat, looking for the MI Slam! “EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEM-IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-” Mak yells. *SLAM!* “YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” The ring quivers from the impact of the MI Slam, and Dangerous is almost frothing at the mouth to make the cover when suddenly there comes a rumbling from the far side of the ring… “As the man I replaced on this mic would say – business is about to pick up,” Mak says, though far more eloquently than what would have come from the longdoggah’s mouth. Dangerous pivots on one foot and spins around to see Raynor charging for him like a runaway bull charging a matador! CRACK! SMACK! WHACK! Raynor plows into the Barracuda with a barrage of fists! “He isn’t about to give Dangerous the opportunity to make good on his MI Slam!” King shouts in excitement. “In fact, I think he might want to simply kick the shit out of the World Champion in front of the entire world!!” Dangerous is rocked from the first few shots but when Raynor tries to go to the well one time to many, Johnny ducks down to avoid the hit and then jumps up – CRACK! “And LEVELS Raynor with a springing side kick!” calls Mak. “All hell has broken loose here and the referee has lost total control!” Raynor is dropped to the mat but he quickly rolls back up to his feet! Johnny moves to put him right back down though, and launches a spinning heel kick at Chris’ face – NO! Raynor, showing that he is the dominate and strongest player in this ring catches Dangerous’ foot in midair! He can’t help himself but to chuckle ever so slightly as Dangerous’ eyes widen to roughly the size of saucers; Johnny knowing he’s in a bad, bad situation with no time to react – WHAM! -and Chris plows the World Champion over with a stiff lariat! Johnny is quick to get back up to his feet but he’s seemingly shell shocked; staggering across the ring and falling into the far ropes. Raynor charges after him to clothesline the Barracuda straight out of the ring, but when he swings out his arm Johnny ducks down, shoots Chris’ knees and then LIFTS to send Chris overhead… “Oh… my… God.” …and right over the top rope! “But Chris lands safely on the outside apron!” King chuckles. Chris reaches out and grabs Johnny by the neck, when suddenly a flash of aquamarine and gold bolts into the scene! “It’s Wildchild! I guess he’s rested back up,” Mak says as WC leaps to the ropes just to the side of where Raynor and Johnny stands and then springs off to go over the top rope, snatching Chris by the head and dragging him down to the floor with a tornado DDT! WHAM! “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!” “DUB-CEE!” “DUB-CEE!” “DUB-CEE!” Now that Raynor is dispatched, Johnny heads back for Landon. By now Maddix is up though still smarting from the MI Slam, and he is unable to offer up a fight. Dangerous easily doubles Maddix over with a kick to the gut and then hauls him up in an electric chair position! The fans move to the edges of their seats in anticipation, which seemingly gets WC’s attention. Wildchild hops back up to the apron and then quickly scales the nearby post! “Wild and Dangerous is looking to end this. There going for a-” Mak shouts as Wildchild launches himself from the post, into the ring, just as Johnny starts to bring Landon down with the electric chair drop, and WC grabs both sides of Maddix’s head to plow him into the canvas! “DAAAAAAAAAAAAAANGEROUS DROP!!” WHAM! “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!” “It’s over!” says Francis. Johnny quickly floats over Maddix and applies a lateral press, netting him a count of: ONE! TWO! THREE! DING DING DING!! “Ladies and gentlemen,” Funyon bellows. “The winners of this match by pinfall, WIIIIIIIIILLLLLD! AAAAAAAANNND DANGEROUS!! Their theme pumps ferociously across the arena as Herrington raises the arms of Wild and Dangerous in victory. “Wild and Dangerous look to be back in winning form after a one month lay off,” says Francis. “To be honest, it doesn’t look like they ever took a day off and now they’ll have their rematch with Revolution Zero.” Wild and Dangerous head out of the ring, slapping hands with the fans on their way out and knowing that six times is only one step away… As we: FADE OUT.

The crowd gets a hush silence as the lights do down, a synth guitar strikes Hadouken’s Liquid Lives, and the first four bars are met with a silence from the crowd BOOM! Pyro explodes from the stage as the rest of Hadouken kick in to play their best song. A figure jumps out from behind the curtain full of energy playing up to the crowd attempting to get them on his side, and a few of them do. “The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is a DEBUT MATCH!! First, being accompanied by his girlfriend and business partner Rosie “Red Lips” Brake, from London, England, weighing in at 210 pounds, LLLLLUUUUUUUUKKKKKKKKEEE-OOOOOOOOOO!!” Luke-o is spurred on by the great introduction as he runs down to the ring, high fiving all of the fans who actually care about his debut. “I don’t like this kid,” moans the King, obviously unimpressed with Luke-o’s ecstatic entrance. “Why not?” Francis asks. “Oh come on! These kinds of kids are ten a penny, what’s so special about this one?” “Aren’t you at least going to give him a chance?” “…No.” Luke-o rolls into the ring as the chorus kicks in, going up on each turnbuckle playing up to the crowd, his energy is really starting to get people on his side. I want to drink, drink, drink, smoke, fuck, fight! I wanna to shout and scream! I wanna die! I wanna be arrested! I wanna be molested! My head’s in pain, next weekend lets do it again! BOOM! Another set of pyro explodes on the stage as the song stops, Luke-o walks over to veteran announcer and asks for the microphone, which he is given. “Oh what, he’s gonna talk too? This kid is really starting to grind my gears” Luke-o holds the microphone with great confidence; he waits before a hushed crowd before he says his first words before a SWF crowd. “You may not recognise this face, in fact I’d say that none of you know who I am. But I guarantee that not only will my name not be known throughout the SWF but throughout the entire world! Because I am the high flying, death defying, heart stopping, body popping, undeniable, undeniable, non-stop, 24/7, king of the goddamn world!” The crowd explodes with excitement! This young brash Englishman has gotten them all fired up! The familiar tune of Rose in Pain starts up as Luke-o’s first opponent makes his way to the ring. “And his opponent, from Duncan, British Columbia, Canada, he weighed in this morning at 205 pounds, Craig McccccLLLLLeeennnnaaaaaaaan!! “Now were talking, this guy right here is what a high flyer really looks like!” screams King, much happier at who Luke-o’s debut opponent is. McLennan makes his way to the squared circle without much fanfare, quite clearly the heel. He gets to the ring and produces his trademark Zippo lighter and places it down in one of the corners, hops up to the ring apron, up to the top of the bottom left turnbuckle and somersaults off it. “Yeah, that’s my boy! Now show this cocky young kid what SWF is all about” “I can’t believe you’re siding with this guy rather than Luke-o” Francis retorts, obviously believing that there are big things coming this bright young kids way. “Of course I am Mak, this Luke-o is a joke, nothing more than another cocky young kid who think he can make it into the big time. I mean look at what he’s wearing.” “He’s wearing some shorts, and a t-shirt” “Correction, he’s wearing a Dawn of the Dead T-shirt” “And your point?” “It means that a) he doesn’t have a branded t-shirt of his own, and b) he walked in off the street, thinking he can take on the world, only to find out that he’s going to get punked out by the first thing that steps in his way. And that my broadcast colleague is what Craig McLennan is going to do” The referee calls for the bell and this match is underway. Luke-o and McLennan circle each other, Luke-o standing taller as McLennan crouches down. They appear to be scouting each other out to see who might make the first move. “We should be in for a good match here King, both of these men are of around the same age, the same height and the same weight!” “Unfortuntly for Luke-o Mak, Craig McLennan has got it where it counts, experience!” In the end it is both of them, jumping into a collar and elbow tie up, a struggle, then McLennan uses his slightly stronger frame to shove debuting Luke-o to the floor. McLennan stands tall as he poses for the crowd. “You believe me now Mak? I told you this kid was all talk!” King exclaims Luke-o gets back up to his feet, adjusts himself and re-composes himself. Perhaps he has overestimated his first opponent. They circle each other again, more determination in Luke-o’s steps this time. They both leap forward for the collar and elbow only for Luke-o to drop down and sweep his leg under McLennan’s feet, tripping up the flame covered spandex wearer. The crowd pops with excitement as Luke-o jumps back up to his feet, obviously pleased with what he has done. He carrys on with attack, as McLennan gets back up to his feet, Luke-o throws some rights into the face of Craig, leaving him rocking. Luke-o runs towards the rope, McLennan drops down in an attempt to trip them up, Luke-o jumps over and runs towards the other rope, Craig then goes in for another attack only to have Luke-o this time leap from over him and run into the ropes. This time McLennan is ready for him, as Luke-o runs towards him after bouncing off the ropes, Craig McLennan picks him up for a powerbomb, only this time for Luke-o to counter it by snapping off a hurracinrana! The crowd pops again for the exchange! McLennan gets back up, fire and intensity in his eyes as he charges towards Luke-o with a clothesline, Luke-o ducks and follows it up with s standing enziguri as McLennan turns around! Craig slides out of the ring trying to recompose himself. Luke-o stays in the ring and poses, much to the happiness of his valet Rosie Red Lips. “Wow! This kid is good!” Mak shouts, impressed with what he has seen “Lucky break, I’m telling you Mak, this guy is a phoney. He’s a hak and a bum. And I don’t like him” “Well he certainly has Craig McLennan rocked, as he composes himself outside” Luke-o looks towards McLennan on the outside, seeing an opportunity to impress not only the fans of SWF, but his girlfriend at ringside, he runs towards the ropes, bouncing off them and running full speed towards McLennan on the outside, and leaps with grace over the top rope with a senton flip crashing into the high flying heel!! Luke-o is the first too his feet, again posing to the crowd. His girlfriend Rosie Red Lips runs over to her man, jumping up and down in happiness for her man and her client. Luke-o grabs hold of her, and they embrace outside the ring! “Oh come on now that is sick!” King complains, “there is a time and a place for that kind of behaviour and it is not here and it is not on Storm!” Luke-o’s cocky behaviour may be his downfall, as from behind McLennan spins him round and levels him with a right hand! “That’s it Craig! Show him how we play down town!” McLennan grabs hold of Luke-o and takes him towards the ring, smacking his head on the ring apron as he does so. McLennan rolls Luke-o back into the ring and gets in himself. Luke-o gets to his feet and attempts to strike, McLennan uses his speed to block his right and retaliates with a stiff roundhouse kick that sends Luke-o to the floor! “Ow! McLennan with a stiff kick to the face of Luke-o, the looked like it really rocked the debutant!” McLennan doesn’t let up, the picks Luke-o back up and strikes him with some stiff kicks and punches to the face and chest, before crouching down and jumping into the air, hitting Luke-o square in the face with a standing dropkick! Luke-o hits the deck and McLennan follows up with a standing shooting star press into the pin One Two NO! Luke-o gets the shoulder up! “The kids got guts I’ll give him that, those were some sick kicks!” And King isn’t wrong, those kicks and punches have done a lot of damage to Luke-o, obviously not used to the toughness of SWF competitors. McLennan is making sure he learns that too as he picks him up and whips him hard into the corner of the ring. In the opposite corner, McLennan crouches down, psyching himself up by screaming then charges at Luke-o lifting his leg up high as he reaches him smashing his foot right into the face of Luke-o! “Oh! Right in the jaw!” King shouts, happy that Luke-o is not on the winning side of things Luke-o knocked out cold stumbles forward and falls to his back, McLennan sees his prone body is an ideal spot, leaps up onto the top rope and flies through the air with a moonsault landing perfectly on Luke-o’s torso into the pin One Two No! Luke-o once again gets his shoulder up! “I thought he had him for sure then King!” “Me too Mak, I’m almost impressed by this kids determination” “Almost?” “Well, lets not get to ahead of ourselves yet.” McLennan is clearly not happy that the ref didn’t count the three, gets up in his face and complains. The ref tells him that the three did not go down, all the while, it gives Luke-o time to get back up to his feet. Not that it does him much good, McLennan goes right back to the attack, delivering more stiff punches and kicks to Luke-o. Only this time they seem to be spurring Luke-o on! McLennan delievers super stiff kicks to the chest of Luke-o, only for the high flying Brit to stand there asking for more! “This kid is insane!” Mak shouts, “He’s just standing there taking those Japanese style stiff kicks to his chest!” Suddenely, as Craig goes for yet another kick, Luke-o blocks his foot and throws it to his side, spinning McLennan round on his remaining standing leg, sending Craig right into a high spin kick from Luke-o right into the face of McLennan, who gets right back up to his feet, only to run into an armdrag by Luke-o that sends him flying across the ring. He gets back up to his feet and charges at him again, running onto ANOTHER armdrag! “Luke-o throws another armdrag at McLennan and appears to be gathering momentum!” McLennan charges at him attempting a clothesline, but Luke-o ducks it as hits McLennan with a HUGE DDT as he turns around, spiking him on his head! Luke-o needs to capotolize here! He pounces on McLennan’s prone body for his first pin attempt of the match! ONE! TWO! NO!! McLennan shows some resilience and gets the shoulder up before the three! “Unbelieveable! Luke-o hit McLennan they’re with a pitch perfect DDT and he still managed to kick out!” Mak screams with excitement “Well of course he did Francis, Craig McLennan does not want to lose to a punk like Luke-o, and why? Because he has pride!” Luke-o gets to his feet, and stands tall above the laying body of Craig McLennan. He looks up to the crowd for support, who give it to him in there hundreds. He signals that the end is near by exploding into a stance of that not too dissimilar to Raven. He crouches down over McLennan, waiting for him to get to his feet. Taunting him to get up. As Craig gets to his feet, he turns around to face Luke-o, who takes a leap away from him, then launches forward to execute his finishing manouver, but McLennan saw it coming and drops down with a basement drop kick! Luke-o hits the deck screaming in agony! At ringside, Rosie holds her hand to her mouth as she knows her man is in pain! “Oh boy! It looks like Luke-o’s career has ended before it’s even begun!” shouts a happy Suicide King. “You’re not kidding King, that was a wicked basement drop kick as Luke-o went for what he are told his trademark super kick!” “And we may never see it Mak, there is no way in Hell this stupid British Limey is getting up from that!” Seeing that damage done, McLennan launches at Luke-o’s laying body with a standing senton splash, rolling over the prone body to a standing position so that he can throw himself backwards into a standing moonsault! Into the pin! ONE! TWO!! TH- NO! Luke-o kicks out at the last second! McLennan sits up with a look on his face that says, “what do I have to do?” He rolls Luke-o over and locks him into a Boston crab submission! “Not something we usually see from McLennan here, but he’s gone to a different play book in order to take full advantage of that damaged leg” “And it’s a smart move Mak, this will wear him down even more, then it won’t matter what he’ll throw at him, Luke-o won’t be able to kick out!” Luke-o screams in agony as he tries to reach the ropes, which he is not far from! Rosie Red Lips has run round to where he’s reaching, urging her lover to reach out and grab the ropes to break the hold! Some members of the crowd have started a “TAP, TAP, TAP” chant, but Luke-o isn’t listening to them. He uses all the last remaining part of his strength to hoist himself forward and grab hold of the bottom rope, much to the happiness of his manager/valet/girlfriend/business partner! “Luke-o reached the ropes! McLennan has to break the hold” But Craig McLennan doesn’t let go! The ref tries to get him to break the hold and begins the count ONE! TWO!! THREE!!! FOUR!!!! McLennan breaks the hold raising his hands up protesting his innocence. Luke-o clutches hold of the leg that McLennan had dropkicked earlier as he writhes in pain. McLennan almost takes a back seat, knowing that his opponent is in a world of hurt, he almost takes joy in watching the Brit get to his feet. Once he does, McLennan goes into launch an attack, throwing his leg forward for a stiff kick, but Luke-o grabs hold of his foot, McLennan throws his other leg up attempting an enzighuri but Luke-o ducks under the attempt which sends McLennan face first into the canvas! Luke-o sees his opportunity to not only inflict some damage but to give his leg some much needed rest. The flying Brit spins himself round so that he can lock in his trademark submission THE SINGLE LEG BOSTON CRAB~! “He’s got the submission! Right in the middle of the ring!” Mak shouts with unrivalled enthusiasm! The crowd are now behind the up and coming star as they chant in unison, “TAP, TAP, TAP, TAP”. But McLennan is not giving up so easily. “Luke-o’s got nothing on this guy! This submission may be one of the most painful in the world but he has not done enough damage to McLennan to warrant a submission” King explains And he’s right, although this is causing McLennan a lot of pain, it’s probably doing more damage to Luke-o as he kneels down on his damaged knee! McLennan finally gets to the rope and Luke-o breaks the hold, falling to floor, his leg in insurmountable pain. Rosie “Red Lips” Brake claps her hands to support her man, the crowd joining in, supporting this newfound star. “The crowd are now finally on his side King!” “Big deal, who has the crowd ever won matches for?” Both me get to their feet at the same time. McLennan is the first to strike McLennan with a right rocks Luke-o Luke-o with a right that rocks McLennan McLennan with a right that rocks Luke-o a bit more Luke-o with a right that rocks McLennan a bit more McLennan with a right that nearly takes Luke-o down Luke-o with a SUPERKICK out of nowhere that knocks McLennan to the floor!! The crowd explodes with excitement as Luke-o falls to his knees; the risk has almost paid off. It cost him a lot of energy to deliver that kick and it took a lot out of him! “Luke-o looks hurt but I think he can smell that the end is near” Luke-o uses the ropes to steady himself as he guides his way to the corner, he finds a corner that he can use, looks behind him to check on McLennan’s position, leaps to the top rope and spins round in one motion. And with great difficulty made evident by the pain on his face, stands tall. He poses to the crowd, then launches himself high into the air, spinning himself forward then nailing McLennan right across the throat with a perfectly places Shooting Star Leg Drop!!! “OH MY GOD!” Shouts Mak Francis! “YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! Shouts The Suicide King back! Luke-o grabs his leg which is in unspeakable pain, but throws himself on top of McLennan for the cover! ONE! TWO!! THREE!!! “He did it! He got the pin!” Mak exclaims! “It was a fluke!” “Here is your winner, LLLLLUUUUUUKKKKKKEEEEE-OOOOOOOO!!!!!” Rosie “Red Lips” Brake climbs into the ring to help Luke-o up. After much effort, Luke-o finally gets to his feet and with his girlfriend in one and the ref in the other, gets both of his hands raised in victory! “What an impressive debut by this young Brit! I have no doubt in my mind that we’ll be seeing a lot more of him! “Flash in the pan Mak, flash in the pan.” Fade down.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents... SWF STOOOOORM! Live, Wednesday, September 19th, from the Tingley Coliseum in Albuquerque, New Mexico!! (7pm PST, 10pm EST; check local listings) (Send all promos/marked matches to chirs3) -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- THE MAIN EVENT - #1 CONTENDERS MATCH Toxxic vs. Michael Alexander --> Man, does Tom know how to piss people off or what? He pulled a fast one Johnny AND Toxxic last show, dancing around the naming of a #1 contender until he unveiled tonight's Main Event - two of our most dominant competitors, both of whom have issues with the current World Champ, now go head to head to take the challenger's role in the Main Event of Genesis VIII! Rules: Standard singlies. -=-=-=- TAG TEAM MATCH Wild and Dangerous vs. Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix and Chris Raynor --> I'm sure there's a super amazing action packed description I could write, but I'm too busy being scared of Wild and Dangerous. Eep! Rules: Standard tag. -=-=-=- DEBUT MATCH Luke-o vs. Craig McClennan --> Luke-o picked a helluva time to join up - just a few short weeks before the biggest show of the year! We'll see if we can't get him something interesting to do for the big G8, but in the meantime, let's see what the kid can do. Rules: Hardcore -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents... SWF STOOOOORM! Live, Wednesday, September 19th, from the Tingley Coliseum in Albuquerque, New Mexico!! (7pm PST, 10pm EST; check local listings) (Send all promos/marked matches to chirs3) -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- THE MAIN EVENT - #1 CONTENDERS MATCH Toxxic vs. Michael Alexander --> Man, does Tom know how to piss people off or what? He pulled a fast one Johnny AND Toxxic last show, dancing around the naming of a #1 contender until he unveiled tonight's Main Event - two of our most dominant competitors, both of whom have issues with the current World Champ, now go head to head to take the challenger's role in the Main Event of Genesis VIII! Rules: Standard singlies. Word Limit: 5500 Send to: Ace309 -=-=-=- TAG TEAM MATCH Wild and Dangerous vs. Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix and Chris Raynor --> I'm sure there's a super amazing action packed description I could write, but I'm too busy being scared of Wild and Dangerous. Eep! Rules: Standard tag. Word Limit: 5000 Send to: Ace309 -=-=-=- HARDCORE MATCH MAN SUN vs. Insayeen Lootchadoor --> Rules: Hardcore Word Limit: 5000 Send to: chirs3 -=-=-=- SINGLES MATCH The Fabulous Jakey vs. Ghost Machine --> Rules: Singles Word Limit: 5000 Send to: chirs3 -=-=-=- DEBUT MATCH Luke-o vs. Craig McClennan --> Luke-o picked a helluva time to join up - just a few short weeks before the biggest show of the year! We'll see if we can't get him something interesting to do for the big G8, but in the meantime, let's see what the kid can do. Rules: Hardcore Word Limit: 4000 Send to: chirs3 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- OPENING PROMO: The Dean of Professional Wrestling, Jaaaaaay Haaaaaawke! As usual, requests be welcome. Also, at this point, I'm not really sure who's active and who's not, so if you are, please speak up.

Yup, I got it.

Man, what is it with you people and markers? Just can't get enough of 'em, can you?

Wanted to get in a pre-emptive strike here, in case anyone tries to call me on those lyrics being wrong - I switched less/more on purpose, to reflect the promo-heavy nature of the show. So nyah.

“Ladies and gentlemen....” ‘When I was back in seminary school...’ The crowd pops, nearly drowning out Funyon as he shouts, “Please welcome...” ‘There was a person there who put forth the proposition... that you can petition the Lord with prayer.’ ‘Petition the Lord with prayer!’ “TOM FLESHER!” ‘YOU CANNOT PETITION THE LORD WITH PRAYER!’ With that, the explosion that heralds the opening of Led Zeppelin's “Kashmir” blasts through the arena, and the traditional blue explosion lights up Las Vegas as the SWF's commissioner steps through the curtain. As the arena lights up with flashbulbs, the fans can see that Flesher actually seems to be in a generally good mood. “His dealings with Landon must have been kept to a minimum,” King suggests. Mak nods his head. As the fans continue cheering, Flesher steps into the ring and stands in the centre for a moment, his expression serious as he motions for a microphone then grabs it when it’s handed to him. “Good evening, Las Vegas,” he says. “I won’t take up too much of your time tonight, I just want to discuss an upcoming show… Genesis and the main event of the show-.” “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “JOHN-NY!” “JOHN-NY!” “Wow!” marvels Francis. “The Dangerous Nation has yet to have their fill of the Barracuda.” “Don’t say that – it’s stupid!” hisses King. “You want Johnny again?” Flesher asks. “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “Well since this does concern Johnny Dangerous lets go ahead and have him come back out,” he says. “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “However, we really don’t need all the lights, music and other nonsense – we’ve seen it once tonight and that’s certainly enough.” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Come on, now,” Flesher continues. “We have important matters to discuss and we’re on a tight time schedule. Johnny-” “I’m here, Tom,” the voice of the Barracuda echoes out from the speakers, and then Johnny himself swipes aside the curtains and heads back out onto the stage. No fancy lights. No music. Just the Barracuda, and just as Tom had wanted. Johnny heads to the ring, rolls in and comes to his feet in front of Flesher, holding his arm out for the Dangerous Nation to quite down so he can speak. “You wanted me, so here I am,” Johnny says. “Earlier you told me to leave the Genesis match in your hands which I have, so what do you have for me now – I’m up to any challenge.” “Oh, really,” Tom responds, the tone in his voice dripping with sadism. Flesher moseys along the length of the ring as he says; “Well I am glad to hear that, Johnny. Really, I am; what I have for you first is a real treat.” “Who’s he talking about? We saw him talking to someone earlier in his office,” says Francis. “You see, Johnny, I simply can’t have you running around with the SWF World Heavyweight Championship. Like I said dozens of times before and I’ll say it again - Johnny Dangerous is quite simply bad for business.” The fans immediately turn on Flesher, booing loudly. He holds his hands up in a profession of innocence, and protests, “Listen, I wouldn't be telling you this if it weren't true. Johnny Dangerous not only brings our insurance bills up through the roof with his silly spy antics, but no one is willing to pay to see him. Even the highest-rated pay-per-view shows he headlined were backed by a strong sub-main event, and frankly, if you leave him alone as the headliner, well...” Flesher points his thumb to the mat and lets loose a bronx cheer. “Let’s not even get on the Pepsi Max deal. Right now I’m sure Pepsico is blowing up my voice-mailbox after you’re little tirade earlier. These people were paying you… paying us money to sponsor them and you pull a stunt like that!? As if the red ink has yet to go away, now were hemorrhaging money!” “ASS-HOLE!” “ASS-HOLE!” “Oh, shut up!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “So I made sure to make a deal that guarantees the World Title leaves your waist at Genesis,” Flesher continues. “I went and got me someone that you, Johnny, in all the time you’ve spent in the SWF and SJL combined that you could only beat once. This is the guy that I was never able to beat and damn it if I didn’t try more than once!” “Wait a second,” says Francis. “Someone Flesher never beat? Someone Johnny beat once? We heard him earlier talking about Johnny costing this person the tag titles and even discussing his new wrestling school! King, is he talking about Johnny’s tag team partner; the Wildchild!?” “You know, Francis, you might be right!” “But how horrible would that be!? How could Tom force Wild and Dangerous into Wild versus Dangerous!?” “Horrible?” King is taken back. “How about getting injured in a tag team match where you loose the titles, and your partner’s only concern is going after the World Championship! This would be the best example of ‘something coming back to bite you in the ass’ that I’ve ever seen!” “So Johnny,” says Tom. “Let me introduce you to this man that you know all too well-” Suddenly, all the lights drop out. Amongst the crowd is a small murmur from those speculating on exactly who Flesher has chosen, but for the most part there is silence. “-and a man you know you can’t beat!” It is at this moment that every light in the arena hits full. A glance at the Smarktron shows that it has gone completely white. For a moment there is confusion, but then the awful truth starts to dawn. Not that subtlety was ever the newcomer’s strongpoint. “COME AND HAVE A GO IF YOU THINK YER ‘ARD ENOUGH!” “COME AND HAVE A GO IF YOU THINK YER ‘ARD ENOUGH!” The rolling bassline of ‘The Gush’ by Raging Speedhorn starts to ooze over the PA system and the Smarktron quickly darkens down to black; as it does so jagged white letters flash up a slogan that Johnny Dangerous has grown very familiar with, one word at a time: ‘PREPARE TO BE PROVED WRONG…’ Three chords ring out. On the first we see Toxxic knocked from the top rope to the floor by a Nathaniel Kibagami springboard enzuigiri. On the second we see Michael Stephens taken from the top rope to the mat with a Super Mark Of The Beast. On the third we see him chokeslammed out of the Clusterfuck by Janus. Then the guitar drops out and the bass takes over again while Toxxic takes Mike Van Siclen off a balcony and through a table, the shot starting to strobe and intercut with a lopsidedly grinning face, the devastating landing timed to coincide with the moment the song kicks into gear, and the- *BOOOM!* -stagewide blast of red pyro that announces the arrival of the SWF’s premier straight-edger! And through the flame and smoke… “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” …red-and-black canvas trenchcoat flapping behind him… “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” …with a Stables Title belt slung over his right shoulder, and one of the Tag Titles he and Austin Sly won from Wild & Dangerous buckled around his waist… “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” …comes possibly the last man Johnny Dangerous would want to see walking down that ramp. “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” In fact, probably the last person the fans would want to see walking down that ramp. “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” Suffice to say, he’s not that popular... but he is walking down that ramp. “YES!” Suicide King yells in delight, “that’s what I’m talking about! Francis, I think business just picked up! Toxxic is going to humiliate Johnny Dangerous and take the World Title from him at Genesis again!” “What, so Johnny Dangerous had to beat Michael Alexander for a chance to get a shot at Alan Clark, but Toxxic can just swan in and get a title shot on the biggest show of the year?” Mak asks, clearly annoyed. “This just stinks of Tom trying to pick the person whom he thinks has the best shot of taking the title from Johnny.” “Yeah, and it’s a great choice,” King grins. Meanwhile the camera cuts to Johnny Dangerous’s face; the Barracuda’s expression is one of someone who had a nasty feeling he was about to get stabbed in the back, only to find the knife slipping into his side instead. As Toxxic rolls into the ring under the bottom rope and comes up to his feet with a mocking smile on his face Johnny readies himself, not sure if the Straight-Edge Sensation might try to jump-start things. However, instead Toxxic calls for a microphone and takes hold of it in one black-nailed hand. “Now, normally I think everyone would agree that I’m not the sort of person to come when Tom Flesher calls,” the Englishman begins without preamble, “however, under the circumstances I thought I may as well appear to flesh out that little introduction he gave me. However,” he continues with another grin at Johnny, “there’s a small detail that you left out, Tom. Namely that I’ve faced off with Dangermouse here once before at Genesis and took the title from him. Now, I’m not that practiced in the art of forcibly removing confectionary products from pre-schoolers,” Toxxic admits, “but I must say that even without a direct comparison to draw on it seemed remarkably similar to taking candy from a baby.” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Thank you Toxxic,” Flesher says, the ‘shut up’ audible in his tone of voice, before turning to Johnny. “You see Johnny, Toxxic has signed a contract in my office today, a contract I have locked away in my briefcase, behind the locked door of my office. I am not taking any risks with it, because it is very valuable to me. That contract is for a match…” Toxxic’s grin widens. “…for the Number One Contendership…” Toxxic grin falters. “…next week on Storm!” Toxxic’s grin disappears. “What the bloody hell…?” the straight-edger demands, rounding on the Commissioner. “Contendership match? You didn’t say anything about a contendership match, sunshine!” “No, I didn’t,” Flesher admits with a small smile, “and to be honest I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to put one over on you, but you were too eager to sign to properly read the contract and it paid off. Because you see,” he continues, picking up a bit of steam in the face of the Englishman’s eyeliner-boosted kilowatt glare, “a lot of people think they can just announce themselves as the Number One Contender to the World Title. Jay Hawke thought he could do it, Zyon thought he could do it, Spike Jenkins thought he could do it… and you thought you could do it.” “I did not ‘just announce’ myself!” Toxxic spits, “weren’t you listening Tom? I’ve beaten him,” he growls, jerking a finger at Johnny Dangerous who is now watching and trying to work out where Tom has hidden the second knife, “I’ve beaten Clark, I’ve beaten Spike, I’ve beaten Jay Hawke… I’ve earned this bloody shot, you stupid jackmonkey!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “Yes, you have earned it,” Flesher agrees amiably, “which is why you’re in the Contendership match next week. But there’s one other person who’s earned it - a person whom, by your own admission, you haven’t beaten-” “OK, I’m getting sick of this,” Johnny butts in, pushing forward. “Toxxic, if you want a piece of me you just had to ask, I don’t need to wait for this clown to organize some scheme. Tom,” he turns his attention to the Commissioner, “quit playing around. I’ll face whoever wins that match next week, I’ll face them and beat them, but do us all a favour,” he gestures around at the crowd, “and stop giving yourself a hard-on with your own voice.” “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “JOHN-NY!” “JOHN-NY!” Flesher’s smile sours, but he steps back and gestures towards the sound stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, Toxxic’s opponent for next week…” “My money’s on Janus,” King mutters, “Toxxic’s never beaten him one-on-one…” …and the synths of Paul Oakenfold’s ‘Dread Rock’ strike up with accompanying strobe lighting, while on the Smarktron Da Vinci’s Vetruvian Man is intercut with shots of a man in action in the ring… a man well known to the crowd and to Johnny Dangerous… …and man who has just stepped out onto the sound stage. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” King raves. “It’s Michael Alexander!” Mak Francis shouts over the hostile reaction, “Revolution Zero beat Slaughterhouse Five in a tag match, but Toxxic’s never faced Alexander one-on-one! This can't make either of these guys in the ring very happy. Rookie or not, Alexander has taken out a laundry list of top SWF talent over the past couple of months. And he's got one of the most dangerous submission holds out there” “Plus, Alexander nearly tore Johnny’s leg off the other week, and was cheated out of his rightful victory by our sham of a World Champion!” King crows, “what a great choice from Tom - this gets better every minute!! He’s surely the savior of the company! The Professor of Pain is walking down the ramp, jaw-jacking with the fans as he goes, before climbing into the ring and raising his arms triumphantly. Johnny Dangerous sets his jaw and looks grimly at the man he struggled to beat to get his title shot at Alan Clark… then transfers his gaze to the man he has always struggled to beat in singles competition. I think you both know him," Flesher says. "And next week, Toxxic, you and Michael Alexander will go one-on-one to determine who exactly will face our champion at Genesis." Alexander swaggers forward to get in Johnny’s face, but then Toxxic places an arm across his chest and pushes him backwards, then gets in Alexander’s face and starts making certain pointed comments about who is going to Genesis here! Johnny has had enough of both of them and drops his title to head forward and give them both a shove to remind them who they have to beat, and both men round on him as Flesher ducks out of the ring! “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” *BAM!* Alexander nails the Barracuda with a sudden right hook, rocking his head on his shoulders! Instantly the crowd roars out in disapproval, but then cheers as Stephens grabs Alexander’s shoulder from behind, spins him around and- RIGHT! LEFT! RIGHT! LEFT! ...V-sign... DISCUS CLOTHESLINE- *WHACK!* “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!” Alexander is knocked to the canvas, flat on his back and Toxxic stands towering over him, breathing heavily as he stares down at the rookie with hate. However, he’s seemingly forgotten about the man who holds what he is ultimately after—the World Heavyweight Championship—and Johnny rushes in and kicks his foot into Stephens’ gut, doubling the Straight-Edge Sensation over! “This is out of control!” shouts Mak. “We’ve got to get security out here or we’ll never get to Genesis!” “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Johnny quickly ducks under Toxxic and rolls the four-time former Champion onto his shoulders, ‘-and Dangerous appears to be looking for a Spinal Explosion!” shouts Mak. “He beat Alan Clark with this move!” “Yeah, but he’s also standing in front of Alexander,” King adds in. “If he goes through with the move he’ll bring Toxxic down on top of Michael!” The crowd sees this and is loudly encouraging the Barracuda to do it, and just as he is about a second away from executing an Spinal Explosion, an armada of security guards come out of the woodworks! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!” Security forces Dangerous to put Stephens down and he does, but not without a less than gentle landing for Stephens. The crowd is nuclear at this point, as the brawl that looked so appealing is now nothing more than an afterthought. “Fans, we’re out of time!” Mak Francis shouts, “but make sure you tune in next week to find out who wins between Toxxic and Michael Alexander, and who is going to Genesis to face Johnny Dangerous! FADE OUT

“Well now,” Tom Flesher says, pouring himself a bourbon, “here we are. I’m going to make you a proposition that I feel could be of benefit to you, but in order for me to do so I’m going to have to ask you to remain silent. Basically because your manner of speaking and your stupid accent annoys me, and if you start talking I might lose my patience and make a decision both of us will regret.” He offers the bottle to his guest, who simply looks at him. “Suit yourself,” Flesher smiles and replaces it, then takes a sip of his drink. “So, to business. Johnny Dangerous is World Heavyweight Champion, having taken the belt from Alan Clark. Clark was an anomaly as champion, his sponsorship deal with Disney was profitable for us even if I got thoroughly sick of the complimentary Mickey Mouse ears I was sent every week.” Flesher takes another sip, then frowns contemplatively. “Johnny, on the other hand, has no such sponsorship deal. If he did I might - might - look a little more favourably on him, but at the end of the day he’s one of those wrestlers who should never be allowed near the top belt. I had counted on Michael Alexander beating him to get the shot, but the best laid plans of mice and men, etc etc.” Another sip, the Superior One’s eyes raise to focus on the face of his visitor. “Johnny is not a profitable champion. In fact, he loses us money. The ludicrous copyright fees we have to pay to licence his Mission Impossible theme music costs as much as half the roster’s, there’s the cost of those stupid ‘hi-tech’ sunglasses he throws into the crowd each week… but mainly, he just doesn’t draw,” Flesher concludes. “His first run with the belt was mercifully short. His second tanked, we didn’t even get that good a rating when Danny Williams took the title from him, I suspect because people couldn’t be bothered to tune in for what would be an obvious shit-kicking. He’s a lame-duck champion heading for Genesis, our biggest show of the year, and I need to find something to spice the main event up a little. Something with a little… history to it.” The figure across the table doesn’t nod, but it does tilt its head to one side in a vaguely quizzical manner. Flesher rolls his tumbler in his hand, perhaps figuring out how much he can say of what’s on his mind and how long it will take his visitor to ignore his conditions and start speaking. “You have history with Johnny,” the Superior One states flatly. “There are others, granted, but I think you fit the bill nicely. You’re a competitor, you want to win; I’ve found that out to my own cost. But quite apart from that, there’s the matter of Johnny costing your team the Tag Titles when you were the most dominant force in the company. Add that on to the nature of your previous encounters and I think we’ll have a main event for Genesis that the fans will pay to see… and also one that I’m confident Johnny will leave without the World Title. Now, let’s not beat around the bush,” Flesher concedes, “you’re not exactly the person I’d choose to hold the belt, because the person I’d choose to hold the belt is sitting on this side of my desk. But whatever reservations I may have about you, about your wrestling style, or about the nature of the mic work I’ll likely have to endure after you win the title, you’re still a more attractive option to me and this company’s bank balance than Johnny Dangerous is.” Now the figure does nod, slowly; Flesher isn’t being flattering, perhaps because he knows that won’t work. But in his own way, he is speaking the truth. “Bottom line, I need to name a contender for Genesis so we can get the hype machine rolling,” Flesher says, “in fact it probably needs to be announced by the end of next week’s show. But this is Genesis, I’m not taking chances and I’m not going to risk making my announcement only for you to have a change of heart and decide you don’t want to face Johnny or you have other plans or whatever. Before you leave this office I want a yes or no answer,” the Commissioner says seriously, “and I want your signature. So if you decide to monkey around with me I can take you to court for a large amount of money, and given the years you’ve been with us and the title reigns you’ve had I’m pretty damn sure I’ll have a lot to choose from. And did I hear that you’ve recently opened a wrestling school?” The figure nods. “Heh, I can’t wait to see what people will learn from you,” Flesher snickers, then sobers. “But that’s neither here nor there. My opinions of your wrestling style are, ultimately, meaningless in this context. You know I don’t like you much, but this is also the only way you get to make history, step into the main event of Genesis VIII and show Johnny Dangerous who the better man is.” He pushes a contract across the table and holds out a pen. “Do you have an answer for me?”

“I'm just saying, we're in friggin' Vegas! Who the hell books a wrestling show in a sports arena in VEGAS? I have to walk, like, TWO BLOCKS just to get to the casinos now!” “Maybe SWF management thought it would be irresponsible to air a program that children watch from inside a casino.” “Oh, that's swell. What next – we can't have a show in a cigarette factory, because it might encourage kids to smoke?!” “... King, when have we ever- you know what, forget it. Welcome back to Storm everybody – Mak Francis here, alongside a man who is clearly going into withdrawal, the Suicide King.” “Withdrawal? I'll bet you $50 you're wrong. Wait, no, give me that!” As King snatches away Mak's paper cup and attempts to construct a crude shell game, the arena descends into darkness. Winston Churchill's face appears on the Smarktron, prompting a round of cheers – suddenly, an animated MANSON dances onto the screen from the left side! His eyes glow with the power of MANSONOSITY, and he fires his laser beams at Churchill's head- -but Churchill eats the lasers, and spits them back, transforming the Raging Bull into a complacent cow! He opens his mouth to moo, but instead we hear: KA-BOOOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOOOOOOOOOOM! As a wall of pyro erupts everywhere except the stage and ramp! Pyro on the steps, pyro on the guard rails, pyro on the announce table, but no walls of flame or smoke dare block the imposing sight of Jimmy the Doom and Fulminatus as they emerge from the curtain, to the tune of “Tiptoe Through the Tulips”! “The following tag team contest is scheduled for one fall!” shouts Funyon, struggling to be heard over the combination of music and Jimmyisms that have started to spew from Smarktron Winston's mouth. “Introducing first, at a total combined weight of four hundred and twenty pounds... Jimmy the Doom, and the SWF New Blood Champion, Fulminatus – the Winston Churchiiiiiiill Expeeeeerieeeeeence!” Led to the ring by Lois the Unethical and C.A.P.Y.B.A.R.A., who tonight is decked out in a Jonestown High Marching Band uniform, Jimmy and Fulminatus take their time to post with various Churchill cardboard cutouts that fans have brought with them. As they enter the ring, Funyon nervously backs away, keeping his eyes on the rodent. Soon enough, Tiny Tim fades away, and is replaced with- REACH OUT AND TOUCH FAITH! Perhaps it's the sheer awesomeitude of Winston Churchill that makes the fan reaction a little less than desired, but it's likely Landon doesn't notice and Raynor doesn't care – as Megan Skye swooshes the curtain and gets the obligatory “HAWT” pop from the crowd, the two take a moment on the stage – Landon plays to the crowd, and Raynor just kind of stares at the strangest thing he's seen since the second flying manatee. “Their opponents, being accompanied to the ring by Megan Skye... weighing in at a total combined weight of four hundred and fifty eight pounds... Chris Raynor, and the SWF Hardcore Champion... Laaandoooooon Maaaaddiiiiiiiix!” With C.A.P.Y.B.A.R.A. waving his baton in time with the music, La CucaRaynor makes their way down to ringside. “These two seemed to work out pretty well last week,” Mak mentions, “even if their goals were not exactly in alignment.” “If by that you mean completely retarded, then yeah, I can see that. Come on! Raynor pitched a hissy fit, Landon saw on opportunity to annoy Tom – that's really all they've got going for themselves!” “That, and eight tag title reigns between them.” Raynor and Landon climb through the ropes and head to their corner – one would assume they're discussing strategy, but given who their opponents are, one wonders how effective any strategy could be. On the other end, Winston Churchill is either debating the finer points of “Here is the Church, Here is the Steeple”, or attempting to do A.R.A.B.Y.P.A.C. Shadow puppets – at this distance, it's a little hard to tell. *DING DING DING* “No pre-match beatdown. How refreshing,” Mak notes. After a brief commune with the spirits, Winston Churchill from beyond has selected Fulminatus as his official ambassador for the beginning of the match – after a moment of deliberation across the ring, Raynor steps to the center of the ring while Landon steps outside. The Rayn-man stops at the sight of his opponent, providing a nice contrast – as Fulminatus bounces on his heels, fakes left, jukes right, shadow boxes, and dances a quick jig, while Raynor stands absolutely dumbfoun- *CRACK* A spinning kick crashes into the side of Raynor's head! He snaps back to attention, wondering exactly what- doesn't matter, before he can finish the thought Fulminatus has already swung off to the side, where he throws a quick elbow strike into Raynor's jaw! In response, the Caveman throws a desperate swing in that completely misses the mark, and Fulminatus takes advantage by dropkicking him as he turns around! Raynor's knocked clean to the mat, and before he can even get to his knees the Dynamo has hit the ropes and comes back, leaping into the air and slamming his boot down onto the back of Raynor's head with Fortuna's Wheel, and straight into the cover! ONE! T- Kickout! “Raynor looks completely lost in there,” Mak says, leaving it wide open for comment from the Suicide King, who is laughing too hard to respond. The Caveman rolls away and gets to his knees, but Fulminatus is back on him in an instant! He grabs Raynor's arm and pulls him up, then delivers a few quick chops to the chest – Raynor makes another desperate swing, but Fulminatus again dodges, and brings Raynor crashing back to the mat with a drop toe-hold! He quickly rolls his opponent over into another cover! ONE! T-Another kickout! Raynor gets to his knees and this time scrambles on all fours to his corner, slapping the outstretched hand of his partner! “It looks like Fulminatus was just way too fast for him, King. Raynor couldn't keep up with his unpredictable style at all.” “Man, does Landon know how to pick 'em or what?” As Landon steps in, he immediately gets defensive as Fulminatus leaps towards him! The Dynamo throws a fast elbow, but Landon's no stranger to speed, and he ducks out of the way, and before Fulmie can turn around, Landon sends a stiff kick into his right knee! Fulminatus buckles for a second, and that's all Landon needs to wrap him in a reverse headlock and drag him away from the ropes, doing his best to keep him locked down tight! He bucks and flails, but Landon manages to quiet him down with a few shots to his stomach, then slams him down with an inverted DDT! He keeps ahold of Fulminatus' head, though, and brings him back up in the reverse facelock position, pounds at his midsection a few more times, then drops him in another inverted DDT, and this time stays on him! ONE- Kickout! Nowhere close to three, but Landon is undeterred, making sure to grab ahold of Fulminatus' arm before leading him back up to his feet. He whips Fulminatus into the ropes, but as he hits them, Landon immediately charges and buries a knee into his gut, stopping him flat! Fulmie doubles over, and Maddix takes the opportunity to deliver some stiff Kawada Kicks to his face, then heaves him back into La CucaRaynor's corner. But as Landon reaches out to tag Raynor back in, Fulminatus suddenly snares his hand and whirls around, cinching in a hammerlock, then delivers a basement dropkick to the back of Landon's right knee! Still holding the arm, he brings Landon back to his feet and hip tosses him back to the center of the ring- -Landon lands on his feet and spins around with a discus clothesline, taking the rookie back down, but Fulminatus quickly springs back up, and Landon desperately plows into him and pushes him back into a neutral corner! He throws a punch, but Fulmie ducks out of the way and starts wailing away with chops of his own! After a quick set he pulls Landon out and goes for a shortarm clothesline, but La Cucaracha ducks behind him, then brings him up and over in a German Suplex- -”And that looks like it may have finally ground the Dynamo to a halt!” says Mak, with some relief. “I was having trouble just keeping up with the kid.” “Well we don't blame you for that, Gimpy, but there's no excuse why Raynor and Landon couldn't – they're just not good enough, plain and simple.” “You... you do realize you're complimenting a good guy, right?” “What? No! Never! I'm not complimenting Fulminatus, I'm just insulting those two invalids.” Certainly Fulminatus now lacks a certain spring in his step, so Landon takes the opportunity to again throw him into his corner, and now tag in Raynor. The Rayn-man wastes no time in climbing in and pounding away on his opponent with a series of suspiciously closed fists, which transition to open palm strikes as the referee moves in to investigate. Raynor pulls his foe out of the corner and hooks his leg and head from the side, then drives him down with a forward legsweep! He then takes the opportunity to drive his knee into Fulmie's back a few times, before dragging him away from the ropes and applying a cover! ONE! T- Fulminatus kicks out with a little more gusto than Raynor would like, so the Caveman drives a few knees into his side this time, then brings him back to his feet, where he hooks him up for a vertical suplex. But as he lifts, Fulmie swings kicks off and swings his weight to the side, and he ends up falling backwards with Raynor's head into, delivering an improv'd neckbreaker! Both men are back to their feet relatively quickly, but Raynor's desperate dive to catch his opponent is fruitless, as Fulminatus breaks for his corner and tags in Jimmy the Doom! “And this is why I hate good guys, Mak. Fulminatus' speed was winning out, yet he tags in the big dumb slow guy!” “Did you not notice the German Suplex, the Kawada kicks, and general beat down-ery, King? Fulminatus was smart to get out when he did – he'll be able to bring that speed back later in the match, once he's more rested.” Raynor's face shows he's not exactly thrilled with the tradeoff, but he makes the best of it as he and Jimmy lock up in the center of the ring. “Last time these two met was... do I have to say this? Really?” “It helps to get a few drinks in you.” “The last time these two met was... Badger on a Pole... where Jimmy scored the submission victory. Under normal circumstances I might say that Raynor may have studied the tape to see where he went wrong, but really, there's not much to learn. He got beaten by a badger.” Raynor may not have learned much, but Jimmy did – as the Caveman slowly pushes the Doomtopian back, Jimmy tilts his head to the side and bites Raynor in the arm! The Rayn-man howls and draws his arms in, giving Jimmy the perfect opportunity to toss a Hand of Doom into his opponent's throat! With Raynor's attention equally divided between his arm and his throat, he leaves himself wide open for a Yak kick, which drops him... well... like a Yak! And Jimmy floats into the cover! ONE! TWO- Raynor kicks out! Jimmy allows his foe to get back to his feet before throwing a second Hand of Doom - he then wraps his arms around Raynor's neck and hoists him up- “Going for the Jimmy Bomb-” Unfortunately, the glaring flaw in his plan is revealed as Raynor winds his right leg back and kicks a field goal into Jimmy's stomach! He then runs to the ropes and on his return leaps up, Scissor Kicking Jimmy's head straight into the canvas! The Caveman helps Jimmy back up, just long enough to whip him into the corner where Landon is waiting to be tagged in. *SLAP* And there we go. They exchange some words, then together they whip Jimmy into the ropes - as he returns Raynor lifts him up and lets him fall back in a Flapjack. Bad enough on its own, but made worse when Jimmy's face drops straight into Landon's outstretched knee! Raynor then takes his leave, and La Cucaracha goes for the cover! ONE! TW- Jimmy kicks out! Landon keeps the pressure up by bringing Doomy McDoomsalot to his feet and delivering a few standing kicks to his legs – as Jimmy drops to one knee, Landon gives him a dropkick right in the kisser, and Jimmy falls back to the canvas. "WHERE'S YOUR DOOM NOW, JIMMY!?" Landon yells down at the fallen Doomtopia native, not making a whole lot of sense. With Jimmy down, Maddix now takes a turn at the junction, piefacing Fulminatus to try and draw him into the ring. Curiously though, Fulminatus doesn't get drawn in. Instead, he takes the pieface to it's most literal sense, licking the 'pie' from his face and complimenting Maddix on his bakery skills. For a moment Landon begins to thank him before realising the confusing nature of the 'conversation', all of which allowing Doom to sneak up behind him and HEADBUTT him right in the back of the neck! "Unorthodox move." "Which, for Jimmy, woudl be orthodox, right?" quips King. "Uhm... don't, please. My head hurts enough in a normal Winston Churchill match." "Is there such a thing?" quips King. "Stop quipping at me already!" After shaking off the effects of his own attack, Jimmy begins to make a move towards the tag. But, seeing that Fulminatus is ready to get back into the ring, Chris Raynor takes defensive action and runs into the ring,not so much piefacing as STEAMROLLERING him off the apron!! Fulminatus goes flying into the ringside barrier, leaving Jimmy in an empty corner, hand stretched for the tag. Capitalising, Maddix fires off a quick kick to the kidneys on Jimmy before whipping him across into the CucaRaynor corner. Raynor provides a little helping hand to keep Doom in the opposition corner, while Maddix charges in, leaping and landing a forearm strike in the corner. "The tag team veterans that are Chris Raynor and Landon Maddix, cutting off the ring, using the illegal man to their advantage, all classic tag team tactics." After a snapmare on Jimmy, Landon tags in Raynor. The bigman stalks into the ring and Maddix backs into him, making signals. And some on the fly teamwork results in Raynor lifting Landon up for a back suplex before throwing him forward, SPLASHING onto Jimmy! "That was pretty good." Mak compliments. Not too good for Landon, holding his ribs and regretting allowing himself to be thrown around by a guy the size of THE CAVEMAN~! Meanwhile, Raynor hurries him out of the ring so he can make the cover on Jimmy... ONE! TWO! No! Another quick tag is made. Maddix doesn't look 100% ready for it, but takes it anyway. He's not going to argue now, is he? "HEY, WACKJOB!" yells Landon, directed at Fulminatus. Naturally. "HOW ABOUT A WRESTLING LESSON!?" Landon begins to pull Jimmy up. "BEST. HAMMERLOCK. EVER!" Landon applies a hammerlock. FULMINATUS "Ghey." snipes King. Fulminatus continues to stand in awe of this, the best hammerlock EVER! Maddix really wrenches on it but unfortunately, Jimmy The Doom isn't buying into all this. Jimmy escapes it with a quick roll behind, spins Landon around and grabs him by the throat with both hands for the JIMMY BOMB!! "Big move, but no cover from Jimmy?" No. Instead, Jimmy stands back up and tries to decapitate Raynor with his Hand Of Doom! The Caveman is caught by surprise and collapses to the arena floor, giving Jimmy full chance to scuttle across the ring and make the tag to Fulminatus... who, to show he's such an old skool tag team specialist, insists on exchanging by way of the FOOT-TAG~! "Foot tag! Fulminatus, in!" "This is ridiculous. What am I saying, of course it is! It'd be even more ridiculous were it not to be ridiculous and feature pure professional wrestling and any degree of sense..." "I thought I told you to stop that!?" Fulminatus leaps into the ring and hits the ropes. He then goes diagonal to hit the ropes adjacent after realising he's set to completely miss his opponent. Landon reels around looking for the blur that's zipping around the ring and it comes flying towards him, clocking him with a knee strike. Off the mat bounces Maddix, back to his feet and into a hammerlock from The Cruiserweight Chaos Engine! After a mere second Fuliminatus releases him and boasts about his own hammerlocking prowess, only stopping to bonk Maddix on the top of the head with a tomahawk chop when he turns to attack him. "Oh! DEADLY! DEADLY I tell you!" mocks King. With Landon reeling, Fulminatus turns to see Chris Raynor coming in. Putting up his hands, Fulminatus waves them around, making sure Raynor's eyes are fixed on them as he slowly shimmies them towards the canvas. Raynor's confused eyes follow them until they touch the mat, at which point Fulminatus kicks him in his lowered head! "Wow, a smart move from Fulminatus!" gasps Mak. Fulminatus keeps the "jazz hands" shtick going as he hits the ropes. He hits them awkwardly as a result. Which might contribue to the SPINEBUSTER Raynor drills him with!! Landon has enough sense to cover... ONE! TWO! Kickout! Raynor looks to cut off Jimmy The Doom while the pin is being counted. Doom bypasses him though, sending Raynor out to the floor. Meanwhile, Landon sets Fulminatus up for the Landon Eye. As he brings the arm around to comlete the move however, Fulminatus pulls a counter from his bag of tricks, pushing Landon away, into a running palm stri... ...NO! Landon ducks the running palm strike from Jimmy, CAUSING THE STRAIGHT-BREADER TO KO HIS OWN TAG PARTNER!! "OH! There's a miscue!" Doom looks down at his partner remorsefully for a second, before realising he's in the middle of a match with an opponent he's neglected to keep his eye on. He realises all this a second too late though, as Maddix hooks him up and delivers the Lungblower!! The Doomtopian rolls out of the ring, finally leaving the two legal men to go at it – not for long, though, as Landon makes a cover! ONE! TWO! T- Fulminatus kicks out! Landon turns to tag Raynor back in, and is somewhat disappointed that his partner is still on the floor, recovering from his earlier spill. La Cucaracha brings his attention back to the Dynamo, who's gotten to a seated position – perfect set up for some Dragon Kicks! Landon unloads a round of stiff kicks to Fulminatus' spine – the rookie howls, and C.A.P.Y.B.A.R.A. howls his sympathy in response. “Would PETA hold it against me if I killed that thing?” “They might, King, but I wouldn't. Knock yourself out.” The Hardcore Champ drags Fulminatus up once more – this time he whips the Dyanmo into the ropes, and waits for him in the center of the ring. Fulmie hits and returns, and Landon leaps up and takes him down with a Thesz plant, prompting another cover! ONE! TWO! TH-No! “Looks like they've finally managed to contain this kid,” Mak notes, as Landon quickly transitions into a headlock. “He was practically running circles around Raynor in the beginning.” “And I wanted to be happy about that, Mak, but... it's Fulminatus.” On the outside, Raynor's collected his wits and returned to his corner, a little stiff but grinning at the sight of his once feared opponent being cut down a notch. He calls out to Landon, and they make the tag – this time around, Landon sets him up and drops him with the Landon Eye, while Raynor scales to the inside turnbuckle to the second rope and leaps off, delivering a knee drop just as his partner rolls away! Landon exits as the cover is made! ONE! TWO! THR- No, Fulminatus just kicks out! “He's got heart, King, you've gotta give him that.” “I'm pretty sure I've gotta give every human being in here that, Mak. The only guy in this company that doesn't have heart is Ghost Machine.” “Hey, he'd be a great addition to Winston Churchill, don't you think?” “NO.” The Rayn-man drags Fulminatus back up – the Dynamo gets a sudden burst of energy, as he bucks and flails to get loose from the facelock, but Raynor buries a knee into his gut, then quickly hooks and spins, taking him down with the Raynfall, and from there he covers again! ONE! TWO! THRE-OH, Fulminatus kicks out before the last count! Raynor punches the mat in frustration, taking a moment to consider his next move, but for some reason Fulminatus takes this as an invitation to roll to his knees and scramble away! Raynor quickly dives on top of him, applying a headlock and grinding him to a halt before slowly leading him back to his feet... once there, he delivers a few fists to the Dynamo's kisser, then leads him over to a neutral corner and slams his face into the top turnbuckle one, two, THREE times, and then gravity does the work as Fulminatus collapses. The Rayn-man looks down incredulously, wondering how his opponent can still be so animated. He shrugs, then picks the Dynamo up for a quick scoop slam, but in a flash Fulminatus squirms free and drops behind him- *CRUNCH* -and eats a quick back elbow for his troubles! Raynor immediately pounces, clubbing him across the back to drive him down to the canvas. He cinches on a headlock and slooooowly brings him back up at his own pace – a few quick wrenches of the neck, then he wraps his arms around Fulminatus, looking for a Side Suplex- -but the Dynamo throws his momentum into it and comes out on his feet! He takes quick dive for his corner, but Raynor snatches his leg in midair and yanks him back, and drops a hard elbow onto the back of his head, shouting “STAY DOWN!” on the way. He applies a front facelock and again brings Fulmie up with as much control as possible, pushing him back towards La CucaRaynor's corner, before swinging him around in a quick neckbreaker! He gets back to his feet and reaches out to Landon, who would probably make the tag if he hadn't just had his feet yanked out from under him! He collapses awkwardly on the floor, and as Raynor leans over the rope Jimmy the Doom leaps up and hangs him over the top! The Caveman is left choking as Jimmy sprints around the ring to his corner, and by the time Raynor has brought his attention back to Fulminatus- *SLAP* -it's already too late. YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! “Heeeeeeeere's Jimmy!” “Lame.” Raynor's hands have no time to cover his face, as the Doomtopian barrels across the ring and plows into him with a flying front kick! Raynor falls into the ropes, but the momentum unfortunately propels him forward into a headbutt! Again he's knocked back, but the ropes compel him to move forward into a second, a third, a fourth, and finally a fifth headbutt that leaves the Caveman as stupefied as his nickname! He stumbles out of the ropes, does a 180 on his heels, and falls flat to the canvas, and Jimmy goes for the pin! ONE! TWO- Landon attempts to break up the pin, but Jimmy rolls off, and Landon's boot goes square into his partner's face! “Great,” King remarks with no attempt to hide his sarcasm, “apparently BOTH teams are dumb enough to fall for that.” Landon has no time to apologize, as Jimmy lays into him with a series of knifeedge chops! He manages to back La Cucaracha into the ropes, then whips him across the ring – as Landon returns, he's taken down by- “A... a flying hug, sort of... well, anyway, it worked.” Megan grabs her man and pulls him out before he sustains more damage, and Jimmy turns his attention back to the legal man – the stars are starting to fade from Raynor's vision, and that simply won't do, so Doom locks in an arm ringer, then delivers the series of kicks that form The Doomsday! One to the stomach, a knee to the face, a swift kick to the back of the legs, and as Raynor is on his knees Jimmy swings a roundhouse to the back of his head! WHOOSH! ... uh oh. Raynor apparently has enough sense to duck, and Jimmy goes spinning as a result – Raynor latches onto his waist from behind, hoists him up, and drops him back down on his knee in an Atomic Drop! Jimmy is stunned, and Raynor decides to just plow straight into him with a right hand! BOOM! And Jimmy responds in kind! BOOM! Back and forth they go, each one reaching a half dozen before Jimmy starts to get the upper hand! He switches from fists to palmstrikes, and he manages to back Raynor into the ropes- *tiny slap* -where a blind tag to Landon goes unnoticed by the Churchill-ite! He hurls Raynor across the ring and prepares to meet him in the center, but Legal Landon sneaks in behind the Doomtopian! Just as Raynor hits the ropes and sees what's what, Landon quickly locks Doom's arms from behind in a full nelson, and to avoid yet another hot partner on partner sequence, Landon moves his head off to the side, so he won't absorb any of the- “RUNNING BIG BOOT!” -that pastes Jimmy in the face! Doomtopia's ambassador to the Americas goes collapses into the bottom rope... Immediately, Landon starts a-running, and Raynor rolls out from the side as La Cucaracha comes barreling back, leaps, and- *KER-RACK* “-absolutely obliterates Jimmy's sexy Doomtopian features with the Shining Wizard!” There is an awkward pause at the commentary table, which makes it all the easier to hear the action that follows – Landon pulls Jimmy away from the ropes and makes the cover! ONE! Fulminatus leaps over the ropes- *WHUMP* TWO! -or rather, doesn't, as Raynor grabs his leg and pulls him back! THREE! *DING DING DING* “Landon Maddix with some quick thinking there-” “Sexy Doomtopian features, Mak?” “- er, with the blind tag, that, uh-” “Don't dodge me, Francis!” “...” Raynor and Landon make a quick getaway, uncertain of just what C.A.P.Y.B.A.R.A's post-match routine entails, and not particularly wanting to find out – Jimmy stares up at the lights and, I don't know, maybe he sees Winston Churchill looking down in disappointment, as Fulminatus rolls into the ring with Lois to check on him. “The winners of this bout... Chris Raynor, and Landon “La Cucarachaaaa” Maaaaddiiiix!” La CucaRaynor wastes no time in heading up the ramp, Megan Skye cheerleading along as their music brings us to the Fade Out.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" Jakey cries in vain as his machine is still not producing any output. "Why don't you get up and move?" Amy asks. "I don't want to walk far," Jakey whines. "Well, we'll just switch machines or something, I can give this a whirl," Amy offers. Jakey picks up his drink and switches spots with Amy. They both put bills in their machines. "Dammit!" cries Jakey. "How does this thing work?" Amy asks. "How much do you want a bet at a time?" Jakey asks. "I don't know, a dollar," Amy says. "OK, then put 1 credit, 20 lines, spin," Jakey explains. "Oh, I see!" Amy says, and does what she's told ... ...WHIRRRRR! WHIRRRRR! WHIRRRRRR!!! The red siren above the machine starts blaring, other casinogoers cheer as they watch the commotion, and a plethora of casino workers rush to the machine to unlock it. "How about that?" Amy beams. "I won the jackpot on first spin without any previous experience! Oh, that's great!" "Congratulations!" one of the workers tells her. "You must be thrilled you brought her here," an innocent worker tells Jakey. Jakey stands up and gives Amy a look of death. "Oh, don't get mad at me!" Amy cries. "Some people just don't have the push of luck, that's all!" Amy turns to the workers helping unlock the machine, but her joy is stilted when-- ---SPLASH! Jakey douses Amy with his full drink of double vodka Red Bull with grenadine! The red substance stains Amy's tourist T-shirt that cost her $5.95 she'll never get back ... But more importantly it fuels her temper! The casino workers quickly work like security guards as Amy lunges for Jakey! But they can't hold the former Hardcore Champion back as she flees her seat and takes down Jakey with a spear on the casino floor! "Get her off of me!" Jakey yells, kicking away before security guards come in to pull them apart. "LEAVE!" one of the guards yells at Jakey, who wipes off his suit and backs up while the guards hold back Amy. "Good grief!" Mak Francis cries back from the arena. "She may be a big winner, but Amy Stephens and The Fabulous Jakey having a scuffle at the Palms Casino!" "You can't bring SWF Stars anywhere!" Suicide King bemoans.

“Welcome back to SWF Storm!” Mak Francis greets the home viewers. “In just a few moments we are going to be joined by the new SWF World Heavyweight Champion, Johnny Dangerous. King, you have to be impressed with the Barracuda now after his trouncing of Alan Clark, especially since you were so vocal about how Johnny had zero chance of winning the match.” “I don’t have to be impressed with a damn thing!” King snorts. “Yeah, Dangerous came out here last week and took care of business. Was I wrong about Johnny? No. Was I wrong about Alan? Yes.” “B-b-but that’s the same thing,” Mak responds, hesitant to try and make sense out of the Gambling Man’s response. “So you’re saying that Johnny didn’t really win; rather Alan Clark lost the match for himself?” “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” King replies. “Now, you see that I’m dressed for an endless night of fun in Sin City so can we hurry it up a little?” Inside the ring is where Funyon stands. As the lights start to drop out a single spotlight shines down on the ring announcer, and already the din of the crowd haves risen. “They know who is coming out in a few minutes and to say this crowd is a little excited would be a vast understatement,” notes Francis. “This is Las Vegas, the Barracuda’s hometown, and he’s coming out for his first night as the new World Champion here! These fans can’t wait to see their local hero!” The crowd chants for Dangerous in anticipation… “JOHN-NY!” “JOHN-NY!” “JOHN-NY!” ‘JOHNNY DANGEROUS!’ The sultry female voices whispers the Barracuda’s name over the speakers as dozens of strobes begin to pulse from behind the entrance stage, “-and it appears the Barracuda has gone back to his former entrance,” reports Mak. The strobes continue while similar ones strafe across the crowd from the top of the ring canopy. ‘I am the new way to go. I am the way of the future.’ The volume of the crowd rises exponentially as Johnny Dangerous makes his way out wearing his Sunday bests, silhouetted by the strobes and with occasional flashes reflecting off his expensive shades as he turns his head from side-to-side, looking out at his hometown crowd. ‘I am the new way to go. I am the way of the future.’ “JOHN-NY!” “JOHN-NY!” “JOHN-NY!” Johnny walks slowly down the ramp, not rushing, letting the fans see the title that sits snugly around his waist. ‘There’s a lot of innocent people being crucified...’ “FROM LAS… VEGAS… NEVADA!” Funyon bellows over the roaring crowd. “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “PLEASE WELCOME HOME, THE NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW, CURRENT AND REIGNING SWF WORLD… HEAVYWEIGHT… CHAMPION… JOHNNY ‘THE BAAARRAAACUDAAAAAAAA’ DAAAAAN-GEEEEERROOOOUUUUSSS!!” *BOOM!* “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Johnny pauses at the bottom of the ramp. He raises his hands to his face and takes off the shades before folding them up and tossing them to the crowd, then hops up onto the apron and steps through the ropes. Johnny unbuckles the belt, then raises it high in the air and turns full-circle so the entire stadium can see it, even the ones in the top tiers getting a good view thanks to the massive Smarktrons. “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “JOHN-NY!” “JOHN-NY!” The Barracuda climbs the nearest turnbuckle and raises his arms to the fans, still holding the belt in one hand, and the entire arena rises in response as camera flashes go off from all sides in such volumes that it’s almost like sheet lightning has descended into the building. Johnny grins, tightly; for all the work he had put into this championship bid nothing feels as good as sharing the victory with his fans at home. Dangerous heads to the edge of the ring and calls for a microphone. He receives it promptly then turns to the crowd, waiting just a minute longer for them to settle themselves before speaking. “Finally-” “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “Who the hell does he think he is anyway,” mutters King, “The Rock?” Johnny Dangerous’ first words to the Vegas crowd are met with an absolutely thunderous cheer, and it takes the Barracuda back. Yes he had expected the crowd to be happy to see him but he never would have imagined it like this. “Finally, I’ve come back home!” Johnny finishes. His lively crowd reacts with another cheer but he pushes through rather quickly to continue talking. “Believe me, getting here wasn’t easy. It took me about a year of slugging through the trenches, as I’m sure all of you saw each and every week. I fought everything from robots to the British and even some freaks!” “Look who’s talking, eh?” King jabs the point of his elbow into Mak Francis’ side. “So now that I’ve completed my mission of once again becoming the World Champion I am sure that everyone is dying to know what they can expect,” Johnny says. “Well, for starters… ” Johnny digs into his suit jacket and pulls out a can of Pepsi Max. The crowd groans accordingly, for even though they are proud to see someone from their city as the SWF World Heavyweight Champion the object he holds in his hand just smells like more of the same old shit. “Now, give me a chance to explain here,” the Barracuda says, sensing the crowd despair. “When Landon Maddix won the Clusterf(Bleep!)k he came out proudly supporting this beverage that I hold in my hand, becoming what I like to call a corporate shill! Do I blame him?” Dangerous raises his brow as he tosses out the question. “Honestly, I can’t. I mean it’s hard to say no to a giant corporation waving thousands of dollars in your face. However, when Alan Clark defeated Landon for the World Championship he too came out sponsoring this high octane boost of a drink. It was almost like he won the sponsorship deal with the title!" "Believe me, I know, because after last weeks show was over with I was met with tons of congratulations from fellow superstars, but after I stealthily maneuvered myself past them I was staring in the face of representatives from Pepsi! I told them I would have to get back with them and here I am… ” “Don’t tell me he’s sponsoring Pepsi Max now,” Francis grumbles. “It was funny when Landon did it, mildly amusing when Clark did it, but now? Come on, Johnny.” “So Pepsi Max,” Johnny says, cracking the drink open and then holding the can up. “You can go sh(bleep!)t on yourself!” Dangerous turns the can over, pouring all of the drink on the floor. “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “JOHN-NY!” “JOHN-NY!” “That’s right,” Dangerous continues, tossing the empty can over his shoulder. “I’m not out here to sell soda! I’m not here to use my reign as World Heavyweight Champion to sponsor a trip to the dentist! No, I am here for the People - for each and every one of you!” “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “For the first time in a long while, a champion is here for those that come out to Storm every week and for those that tune in all over the world! I am not here to be someone who is above all of you, I am part of you - one of you! I am also here to lead a new movement in pro wrestling and that is what I like to call the Dangerous Nation! How do you join you ask? By being a fan of the SWF and supporting the Champion that supports you!” “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “So I ask all of you, my fellow neighbors in Las Vegas, Nevada,” Dangerous pauses as he slides out of the ring, steps over the crowd barricade, and goes into the crowd. Fans crowd closer around Dangerous leaving him encircled by at least a thousand of them. “Who will stand up and join the Dangerous nation!?” “WE WILL!” “Who is in the Dangerous Nation!?” Johnny shouts. “WE ARE!” “WHO IS THE CHAMPION OF THE DANGEROUS NATION!?” “YOU ARE!” “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “It doesn’t stop here either!” Dangerous goes on. “At every show, those who are part of the Dangerous Nation can come out and be heard! And I challenge the Dangerous Nation to come out at Genesis and make a noise so loud that they will hear us in heaven!” “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Dangerous throws out his arms. All around him hands are patting his back and shoulders while the rest of the crowd chants for the Barracuda… “JOHN-NY!” “JOHN-NY!” “JOHN-NY!” As we: FADE OUT.

The cameras pan around the Thomas & Mack Center, giving a panorama of the roaring crowd, as Mak Francis and the Suicide King begin their banter. Signs amongst the crowd proclaim that “Daddy Dagda gets it Done” and ask “Where’s Your Igor?” “Here we are with the second match on the card tonight, with the monolithic Danny Dagda facing off against Michael Alexander. This will be Alexander’s first match here in the SWF against a behemoth like Dagda. It’s going to be interesting to see how he handles himself, since all of his previous opponents have been somewhere close to his own weight class.” Mak rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Well, with two guys of this quality, we can’t help but have a great match,” King chirps happily. “After Alexander was cheated out of his opportunity to face Clark a couple of weeks ago, it’ll be good to see him return to singles competition.” “Cheated? How? Dangerous beat him fairly…and honestly, Alexander gave him so many openings that he has no one to blame but himself.” Mak pronounces. “Are you kidding? Dangerous shouldn’t have even been in the running for the title! Who had he beaten lately? Nobody! He got thrown into the mix why? Because he committed a cowardly attack on Clark a few weeks ago? I say it was obviously some sort of conspiracy against Michael Alexander.” King declaims. “Regardless, King,” Mak replies, “Dangerous showed us all last week that he had what it took when he became the champ last week by beating Alan Clark. And before that, he had beaten Michael Alexander. Seems like a pretty simple equation to me.” “It would seem that way…to YOU.” King folds his arms as though he has just made a cogent point. Mak raises his eyebrow quizzically. King continues, “You’ve always been against Alexander since he debuted here. You’re probably part of the conspiracy.” “Whatever, King,” Mak segues flawlessly, as he’s had a lot practice at this. “It looks like things are about to get going.” Referee Brock Samson grimaces angrily as Funyon clambers into the ring. The big man prepares to earn his pay once again as he raises the microphone. “Ladies and Gentlemen, this match will be one fall. First, from Newark, New Jersey…weighing in at 298 pounds…DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNY DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGDAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” “Aneurysm” by Nirvana queues up, and a shower of blue sparks rain down on the ramp area for a few moments before Dagda’s pyro explodes on the outside of the ramp. Danny Dagda then walks out smiling, wearing a pair of incredibly fake and unspeakably comical glasses and a white lab coat. A pocket protector full of pens graces his coat’s pocket, which he adjusts in mock nerd-dom as he shuffles down to the ring, pushing his glasses back up his nose unnecessarily. The crowd is a little take aback by his attire, but still doesn’t like him, and makes that abundantly clear. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “I think Dagda’s poking a little fun at our Mad Scientist of the Mat, King,” Mak snickers. “He’s never going to miss a chance to mock someone…that’s one of the things I love about Danny,” King says. “It’s Dagda’s stock-in-trade to do this sort of thing to get under his opponent’s skin early in the match. I wonder how this will play with Michael Alexander, who has yet to face someone quite like Danny Dagda,” Mak muses. Dagda climbs into the ring, and remains in the get-up as Funyon begins to introduce his opponent. “Dread Rock” by Paul Oakenfold begins to play, and the a video montage of Alexander’s previous in-ring exploits interspersed with Da Vinci’s “Vitruvian Man” highlighting the areas that the various moves depicted injure on his opponents. The Smarktron seems to have been updated with footage from his recent match with the new SWF champion Johnny Dangerous. The lights in the arena flicker in time with the Smarktron. “And his opponent, from Greenville, South Carolina…weighing in at 221 pounds…the Mad Scientist of the Mat…MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICHAELLLLLLLLL AAAAAAAAAAAALEXAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANDER!” Alexander steps out onto the stage, and the flicker lighting stops dead. He stares dead at Danny Dagda in all his pocket-protected glory and is obviously not amused. Strangely enough, the crowd actually seems to side with Michael Alexander, as he stomps angrily down to the ring. “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” As he stalks into the ring, Michael Alexander looks out over the crowd in surprise; he’s not used to that particular reaction. He then refocusing on Dagda, staring daggers into the big man. Dagda takes this in stride, chuckling to himself, as he finally removes his “Revenge of the Nerds” costume. “Well, that was a surprise,” Mak observes. “The crowd actually seems to have sided with Alexander…for the first time since his SWF debut.” “It’s about time they saw the impending greatness of Alexander, but I think it’s just that everyone hates Dagda a lot more,” King adds sagely. “You’re actually probably right for a change, King. It’s going to be interesting to see how Alexander deals with this. This is actually Dagda’s element, being the jerk and getting his opponent riled and off his game. Usually Alexander is the one doing the mocking, but now he’s on the receiving end.” “Well, as good as Dagda is, I don’t see this taking Michael Alexander off his game, Francis. But at the very least, it’s going to be a fun match to watch.” Funyon ducks out of the ring, sensing trouble to come. The Referee growls for the bell, and the match is underway. DING! DING! The two men circle each other, Alexander looking fey and Dagda looking cheerfully heelish. The two collide in a collar-and-elbow tieup, and Danny takes advantage of his size and power to quickly shove the smaller man into the corner. “This is definitely not where Alexander wants to be, King…cornered by Danny Dagda,” Mak remarks. “Seriously,” King says. “Anytime you’re cornered by a guy just a few inches shy of seven feet tall, it’s bad news.” Samson snarls for them to break it, which Dagda does with a smart back elbow to Alexander’s head. Rocking back in the corner, Alexander’s legs go wobbly. The big man then grabs him and hurls him bodily into the middle of the ring with a Beal toss. Alexander flops limply to the mat, still stunned. “And that ended about as well as could be expected,” Mak laments. “Did you think Danny would pass up such a great chance to soften his man up a bit early on? I’m a little surprised Alexander got caught there, but there wasn’t really anywhere to go out of that corner. It’s good to see Dadga at work again.” Danny plays to the crowd a bit as he approaches his grounded opponent, and drops a crunching elbow…which basically only crunches the mat, as Alexander has rolled aside. Both men roll back up to their feet at about the same time, but Dagda is still in better shape, and he bulls Alexander into the ropes with a series of elbows to the head. “Dagda missed the elbow, but he still manages to control Alexander early in this match,” Mak states. “If Alexander doesn’t start something soon, this could be actually be late in the match, ‘cause it won’t last very long.” King snickers at his terrible joke as Mak winces. Danny smirks as he whips the Mad Scientist into the ropes and raises his arm for a clothesline. Unfortunately, Alexander sees this coming and easily ducks it and bounces off the ropes again, and as Dagda turns around, his face becomes intimately familiar with the Evil Genius’ forearm, as it crashes into his face! “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” “Alexander must have heard you, King. That was a nasty flying forearm right in Danny Dagda’s face!” Mak yells. “It was only a matter of time before Alexander asserted himself. He’s got to make use of his speed and technical skills…I know he doesn’t want to try to go toe to toe with Danny.” King snorts. Dagda slumps to the mat, more from surprise and impact than true injury, but Alexander is back to his feet more quickly this time, and takes advantage of the big man’s shift in altitude. As Danny starts to get to his knees, the Evil Genius cracks him in the jaw with a spinning back elbow, sending him onto his back once again. Knowing his real chance in this match is to slow take the pins out from under the big man, Alexander grabs Dagda’s right leg and delivers a series of sharp kicks to said leg. Danny grunts sharply and tries to sit up, but Alexander steps over the leg and weaves it over into a stepover toehold, wrenching it to put pressure on both the knee and ankle. “And here we are with some vintage Michael Alexander, focusing on the leg and grounding his opponent,” Mak points out. “Yep, and this exactly where Danny Dagda doesn’t want to be,” King replies. “As good as Danny is, he can’t outwrestle Alexander or make use of his main set of power moves with a bum leg.” Dagda growls now, and decides that enough is enough, raising his left leg to Alexander’s chest and shoving the Evil Genius off of him by main force, sending his opponent staggering backward and giving him a chance to get back to his feet. King laughs. “And Danny Dagda counters it as only he can! He launched Michael halfway across the ring! I knew this was going to be good.” Both men stare intently at each other, both a little more wary now. Alexander is the first to make a move, shooting in for a single leg pickup on Danny’s right leg. Dagda tries to steady himself, but he’s not used to this sort of thing, and hops to maintain his balance. The Mad Scientist offers his remedy to this situation by raising Dagda’s right leg sharply and clipping Danny’s left ankle with his right foot, causing the big man to collapse solidly backward to the mat. Danny, to his credit, quickly rolls over onto his stomach to scramble back to his feet. The Evil Genius is not about to allow the big man to get back to a vertical base so soon, and floats quickly over into a front facelock, forcing his opponent to support his weight with his neck and shoulders. Unfortunately for Alexander, Dagda quickly shows that this is not a particular problem for him, as he powers himself up from the mat, bringing the smaller man with him. Once he reaches his knees, Danny fires a series of punishing right hands into Alexander’s midsection, breaking the hold. The big man isn’t done yet, as he feels that he should return to takedown favor, and hoists Alexander up and whips him to the mat with a thunderous spinebuster! He smirks as he goes for the pin. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “ONE!” “TWO…!” NO! The Mad Scientist kicks out, shifting himself just enough to raise left shoulder off the mat. “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” Mak shakes his head. “That little exchange illustrates the basic problem in this match…can Alexander’s skills and speed really counter the raw power of Danny Dagda. The results so far don’t favor Michael Alexander…” King shrugs. “Well, we knew this was going to be a serious test for Alexander, but I don’t think even he saw things going this far south this soon. I’m sure Michael can deal with this, if Danny doesn’t break him first.” Dagda shrugs and gets up, dragging Alexander up with him. Danny smiles maliciously and knees the smaller man in the gut. Alexander gasps at the impact, doubling over. Dagda then reaches down and lifts the Mad Scientist up over his head in a military press, and slams him contemptuously to the mat. Alexander arches his back in pain, rolling away from his opponent. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Big press slam! Dagda obviously is not suffering too much from Alexander’s work on that leg. This is bad news for Michael here,” Mak pronounces sadly. “Well, it’s a bit early for that. But Alexander needs to avoid let Danny hit those big power moves, or he won’t stand a chance here.” King nods sagely. Danny laughs at the crowd and his opponent. He stomps over and delivers a vicious kick right to Alexander’s back, sending the smaller man rolling toward the ropes. Alexander sucks in breath, trying to get his wind back after having it pummeled out of him. Dagda just smiles as he stalks Alexander until the smaller man manages to pull himself back up to his feet, then charges Alexander to hit him with a vicious clothesline that carries both Alexander and Dagda himself to the outside! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Cactus clothesline! Both men go the outside!” Mak yells. “This spells trouble for Alexander,” King warns. “Dagda is at his most dangerous on the outside.” Samson snarls out a count as the two men try to regain their feet. Danny is the first to get back to his feet, as he was prepared to the fall. The big man gleefully kicks Alexander solidly in the midsection, eliciting a grunt of pain. One… Two… Three… Dagda continues on the attack, hauling the smaller man back up and bullrushing him into the apron with a crunch. Alexander gasps in pain as his back crashes into the ring apron. Danny then grabs the Mad Scientist’s head and bounces it off the apron. Alexander stumbles a bit, but Dagda doesn’t let up, whipping the Evil Genius into the guardrail! “Dadga is relentless tonight. Alexander is going to be in need of some serious chiropractic work after this,” Mak smirks. “It’ll be a wakeup call for him after all the people he’s sent to the docs after unnecessarily holding his submission holds.” “The big boys play rough, and nobody plays rougher than Danny. Alexander can take it. The question is, can he take it and win?” King muses. Four… Five… Six… Seven… Danny takes this opportunity to break the count by rolling in the ring for a second or two, then coming right back out. He smiles and shrugs as Referee Samson growls at him to get it back in the ring, and begins the count again. Dagda meanwhile stalks Alexander as the Eidolon is hanging limply on the guardrail. The big man, playing to the crowd, charges, going for a boot to the head designed to damn near decapitate the Evil Genius. Alexander expresses his intention to remain capitated by dropping sharply to the floor, leaving Danny to straddle the guardrail painfully as his big kick misses entirely. “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” “Danny’s ego got the better of him there, as he tried to showboat a bit too much, and it gave Alexander the warning he needed to get out of the way of that kick,” Mak observes. One… Two… Three… Four… The Mad Scientist pulls himself back to his feet as Dagda attempts to dislodge himself from his painful predicament. Alexander takes advantage of Danny’s difficulty with a sharp kick to his left leg, causing it to buckle and Danny to straddle the guardrail again with an impact that causes winces throughout the arena. Danny groans an octave higher than he would normally, and collapses to the floor. King winces, but chuckles a little. “Danny’s ego is the least of his worries right now, I believe. Owch.” Five… Six… Seven… Eight… This time it’s Alexander’s turn to break the count, drawing the ire of Brock Samson as the Referee snarls at him to bring it back to the ring, but is constrained to start the count again. The Evil Genius takes a moment or two to recover from the pummeling Dagda has dished out thus far. Danny is crawling back to his feet as Alexander approaches him. Knowing his best chance involves keeping Dagda off balance and off his power game, Alexander renews his assault on Danny’s right leg. He stomps away at the leg, refusing to allow the big man to get back to a vertical base without suffering a little payback. “Alexander continues his attack on that leg. Hopefully this allows him to get some headway here.” Mak taps the table in thought. “At the very least, he’s made Dagda think twice about those high kicks,” King smiles. One… Two… Three… Four… Danny snarls in pain, but manages to pull himself up on the guardrail, even with Alexander peppering his right leg with stomps and kicks. Alexander sees the writing on the wall, and decides to head back to the ring. “Danny was too stubborn to let even Alexander’s concerted assault stop him from getting back up,” Mak states. “Stubborn is an understatement. How many people have the guts to just pull themselves up out of an attack like that? Michael’s got his work cut out for him.” King adds. Five… Six… Seven… Eight… The Evil Genius waits patiently in the ring as the big man pulls himself up onto the apron and steps slowly back into the ring. Danny is not so flippant at this point, but goes straight after Alexander. The Mad Scientist also wastes no time in going right to work with a series of crisp kicks to the inside and outside of Danny’s right leg. The leg buckles, dropping Danny to one knee, which Alexander uses as a stepping stone, spinning around to bring his heel into a violent intersection with the back of Dagda’s head. Danny collapses to the mat. “Looks like Alexander still has some tricks up his sleeve!” Mak yells. “He’s going for the pin!” “He might get it on surprise alone, but he hasn’t beaten Dagda down nearly enough to keep him down.” King brushes aside the possibility. Alexander scrambles over for a quick pin, and Samson drops for the count! ONE! TWO! NO! Dagda kicks out with authority, tossing Alexander off like a rag doll. The Mad Scientist looks at the big man in disbelief for a moment, giving Danny a chance to get back up to his knees. Alexander rushes back to hammer the big man with forearm shots. Danny shoves Alexander away, the force of the shove sending the smaller man careening away. Dagda then follows Alexander, pounding his opponent with clubbing forearms of his own, stunning the Mad Scientist. “Dagda out with authority! Another reason to love Danny Dagda!” King chirps happily. “Danny’s just plowing past every bit of offense Alexander’s offered so far,” Mak adds. “I don’t know what else Alexander can throw at him to keep him down.” Danny grabs the Evil Genius and tosses him over the top rope, turning away to smirk at the referee’s warning. Alexander holds on to the top rope, however, keeping himself on the apron. He takes advantage of Dagda’s diverted attention to spring up onto the top rope, setting up for a springboard calf kick. The Mad Scientist springs off at Danny. Unfortunately for Alexander, Danny was not as distracted as he appears, as the big man catches Alexander in midair. He shifts the smaller man onto his shoulder, signaling for an end to the proceedings with a quick cut across his throat. “Danny caught him effortlessly in midair!” Mak yelps. “He’s signaling for the Condescension! If he hits it, it’s over for Michael Alexander!” “There’s no getting out if he hits it, Francis,” King agrees. “But can he do it?” Seeing what is coming, the Evil Genius kicks wildly, allowing him to slip out of Danny’s grip. Dagda is not so easily foiled, however, as he fires a sharp elbow into the head of Alexander as the Evil Genius lands on his feet. “Alexander sneaks out, but Dagda still maintains control with that elbow! Michael just can’t seem to really keep Danny down, King!” “Danny Dagda is a tough guy to keep down, Francis. But don’t count Alexander out just yet. Honestly, given the size and strength difference here, I’m surprised Alexander has done as well as he has so far.” Smirking, Dagda whips the Mad Scientist into the ropes, and goes for a big clothesline. Alexander has other ideas, though, and as he bounces off the ropes, he drops and smashes into Dagda’s right leg with a vicious dropkick. Danny howls in pain and collapses forward. Alexander, seeing his chance, immediately rolls up to his feet. The Evil Genius grabs Dagda’s legs and weaves them around his own leg, hooking Danny’s right foot behind his own calf, and drops backward, tying the Gordian Knot! Dagda snarls in pain as the hold is cinched in. “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” “Holy Crap! The Gordian Knot! He clipped Danny with that basement dropkick and just slapped it on out of nowhere! Dagda’s in big trouble, King!” “Anybody’s in trouble when they’re in this hold, Francis! Dagda might be the first to bull his way out of the hold though. And has Alexander done enough work to the leg to soften it up?” “I don’t think it matters how soft the leg is once it’s twisted like that,” Mak replies. Samson asks him if he can continue, and Dagda barks back a sharp retort. The big man tries to pull himself toward the ropes, but Alexander has no intention of allowing that to happen, and begins wrenching the hold, pulling both himself and Danny away from the ropes. While normally Dagda would have no problem with pulling both himself and Alexander along, the application of this particular hold means that not when Danny attempts to do so, he suffers not only the normal pressure of the hold, but his own strength works against him, putting even more pressure on his right leg. Danny strains toward the ropes, but they are too far. He tries to roll the hold, in an attempt to alleviate the pressure. Alexander bridges his body to block this maneuver, both increasing the pressure on Dagda’s knee, but also hampering Dagda’s ability to roll the hold. Danny howls in pain and tries once more to reach the ropes in a desperate lunge…which falls about six inches short. “Danny is trying everything under the sun to get out, but Alexander’s countering him at every turn. How long can he last if he can’t escape this hold?” Mak slaps the table for unnecessary emphasis. “He’s already lasted longer than anyone else so far,” King points out. “But there’s only so far you can go in that kind of pain.” Alexander wrenches the hold again, wracking Dagda’s legs with excruciating pain. Danny can’t reach the ropes…Alexander has blocked his attempts to roll the hold…his mind races, trying to find a way out of the terrible pain. He does. TAP! TAP! TAP! “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” “Danny tapped! It’s been a hell of a long time since we’ve seen that!” Mak observes loudly. “Yes it has. Danny got caught in that hold, and he wasn’t able to get out of it. Alexander continues his winning ways in singles competition. Dagda came close to derailing him though. Another night, another place, it could be a lot different. Both of these guys are that good.” King crows. Samson calls for the bell, and Alexander releases the hold to have his hand raised as Funyon calls out, “Ladies and Gentlemen, here’s your winner…MMMMMMMMMMIIIIIIIIIIICAELLLLLLLLLL AAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLEXAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANDER!” “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” Danny is gingerly trying his right leg as Alexander raises his hand. Alexander grins wickedly at the hobbled Dagda. Alexander rolls out of the ring and grabs Danny’s nerd outfit and tosses it back into the ring at him. Danny scowls at him, but Alexander’s grin is implacable as he walks back up the ramp. “I don’t think Danny’s going to forget this anytime soon,” Mak warns. “Nobody forgets losing on live TV, Francis.” “Well, we’ve got to break, but we’ll be right back after this word from Electronic Arts!”

Tom Flesher leans back in his chair, a sadly empty scotch glass on his desk. He's holding the Jayson Grant Memorial Trophy in his hands, and is looking intently at someone off camera. "Listen," he says evenly. "We both know that Johnny Dangerous' title reign is a fluke, an overblown balloon waiting to pop. I know that every day he holds the SWF title is a day that we lose money...he doesn't sell merchandise, he doesn't even draw fans and he's grossly out of touch." Tom chuckles to himself. "I mean seriously, he pretends to be James Bond ten years after Bond stopped being anything approaching hip, trendy, or popular. The SWF needs..." Tom slaps his hand on the desk for emphasis, "...I need...the belt off of Johnny Dangerous. He's an embarrassment to me and a money pit to this entire company." Tom smiles at his guest. "You on the other hand, when I see you, I see hope for the SWF's future... a return to its Golden Age, you might say, when the title was held by the best wrestler in the company... it's like I'm looking into a mirror... and mirrors don't lie. I think you could be the future of this company and this business.” “So tell me... are you up for the biggest opportunity of your career?" He finishes, sliding a clipboard towards his guest… As we: FADE OUT.

Three empty glasses are by The Fabulous Jakey as the server walks by to scoop them up on a tray. "Another double vodka Red Bull with grenadine?" she asks. "Yes!" Jakey rudely tells her. "And one for you?" the server asks Amy, who is still nursing her original drink. "No thank you," Amy says. "I should have just ordered a beer." The server smiles and walks away. "Hey, aren't you supposed to be tipping them?" Amy asks. "You tip them when you aren't losing," Jakey explains. "Winning drunk people give it all back in tips." "Aren't you glad you didn't have a match tonight?" Amy asks, trying to be cheerful. Jakey angrily puts another $20 in the machine and pushes the button. "Well ... when I'm in the ring, I'm at least winning," pouts the champ.

Sly Machine

We go to The Palms casino, where the Cruiserweight Champion The Fabulous Jakey, decked out in a dark green power suit, is frustrated at a slot machine and downing a fruity cocktail. “Why aren’t you at the arena?” Amy Stephens asks as she walks by. She is wearing a truly lame tourist “I LOVE LAS VEGAS” T-shirt. “Why aren’t you?” Jakey shoots back as Amy takes a seat next to him. “Toxx ain’t on the show tonight, and neglected to tell me, so I flew all the way to Vegas for nothin'", Amy explains. "Can I try your drink?" "Oh, sweetie, this is strong stuff," Jakey discourages. "Please, knowing you it's probably some watered down Kool-Aid," Amy scoffs before taking a big gulp. She immediately winces as if she drank fire. "How-----you're so little!" she incredulously cries. A lady employee in a bowtie walks by and Jakey flags her down. "Can we get another double vodka Red Bull with grenadine, please?" he asks. "And this one will have an iced tea." "Hell no!" Amy cries. "I'm having what he's having! I'll get used to it!" The employee smiles a tight grin and walks off. "Are you winning?" Amy asks. "I'll get there," Jakey argues, then pushes another button. "DAMMIT!" he cries out before pulling another $20 out of his front pocket. "Are our rooms comped?" Amy asks with forethought.

“Johnny!” Flesher beams. “Have a seat old friend!” The rather cheerful mood of Tom Flesher catches the Barracuda by surprise. In nearly all the time he’s known the current SWF commissioner he can’t think of a time where Tom Flesher seemed even remotely warm towards him, let alone…friend. “You said you wanted to see me?” Dangerous asks as he takes a seat in front of Tom’s desk. “Indeed, I did,” Tom replies, taking his seat. “I didn’t get much of a chance to see you after last weeks Storm concluded so I’d like to express a belated congratulation towards you for winning the World Championship for a…*ahem* third time.” Dangerous sits…waiting…and Flesher remains silent, eyeballing the title belt until Johnny shifts the championship from one shoulder to the other. “Anyway,” Tom finally speaks up as he reaches under his desk, pulls out his bottle of bourbon and pours himself a drink. “That’s not the only reason I wanted to speak with you today. In fact I wanted to discuss Genesis.” Tom glances at Johnny and raises his brow quizzically as he tilts the bottle towards the Barracuda. “It is Genesis, after all,” Johnny says. He slides the empty tumbler on his side of the desk towards Flesher, “and it only comes once a year.” “Thank God,” Tom replies and though hesitant…Flesher pours Dangerous a drink, but not without a noticeable shake in his hands. After he sets the Bourbon down he continues; “I don’t think I could take the stress that comes with this big of a show more than once a year. Anyway, with a show this big we need to make sure we have a match that will sell that show – it just can’t be any old person in the back,” Flesher concludes. He leans back in his chair as he takes a sip of his drink. “I see,” says Johnny, setting the empty tumbler down on a coaster. He taps the rim of the glass. “So what you’re saying, if I’m understanding you correctly, is that you don’t want me to go out here tonight and declare that I’ll be facing some random individual – the Crimson Skull, Tokyo X ala what Landon did with the whole Zyon fiasco.” “Ugh,” the Superior One cringes, “don’t remind me.” He tops off his glass then refills Johnny’s. “What Landon did was absolutely shameful. He named an overmatched opponent to face him in a pay per view main event so he could – A; make sure he didn’t have to face anyone else for six weeks before the show and B; take an easy victory at the show.” Tom shakes his head in disgust then sips his drink. “You are correct, though. That sort of event is the last thing we want to see. What I need you to do is just put your faith in me and let me select a challenger for Genesis that I can get the brain trust to buy into.” “That’s fine,” Johnny shrugs. “I just don’t want to have the odds stacked against me in some kind of an elimination chamber or what not. Honestly,” Johnny leans in a little closer. “I’d just like a good, competitive match – that’s all I could ever ask.” “Come now, Johnny. Do you think I’d set out to ruin your reign as World Heavyweight Champion? I’m not the same vengeful Tom Flesher that was competing every week…I have a role of authority - I have to be fair. So do we have a deal?” Flesher concludes, extending his hand. Sure,” Johnny replies. He reaches forward and accepts Tom’s handshake. “I’m in for whatever.” “Excellent,” Flesher responds as a smile creeps up on his face… FADE.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents... SWF STOOOOORM! Live, Wednesday, September 12th, from the Thomas & Mack Center in Las Vegas, Nevada! (7pm PST, 10pm EST; check local listings) (Send all promos/marked matches to chirs3) Vacation-time in the SWF - apparently everyone wants to get trips to Disneyworld in BEFORE they injure themselves beyond recognition at Genesis, not after. Even so, some of our heavy hitters will be in attendance, including brand new World Champion, Johnny Dangerous! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- TAG TEAM MATCH The Winston Churchill Experience (Jimmy the Doom and Fulminatus) vs. Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix and Chris Raynor --> Rules: Standard tag. -=-=-=- SINGLES MATCH Michael Alexander vs. Danny Dagda --> Rules: 5000 -=-=-=- HARDCORE MATCH Austin Sly vs. Ghost Machine --> Because, because, because, because, because of the wonderful things he does. Rules: Hardcore -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents... SWF STOOOOORM! Live, Wednesday, September 12th, from the Thomas & Mack Center in Las Vegas, Nevada! (7pm PST, 10pm EST; check local listings) (Send all promos/marked matches to chirs3) Vacation-time in the SWF - apparently everyone wants to get trips to Disneyworld in BEFORE they injure themselves beyond recognition at Genesis, not after. Even so, some of our heavy hitters will be in attendance, including brand new World Champion, Johnny Dangerous! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- TAG TEAM MATCH The Winston Churchill Experience (Jimmy the Doom and Fulminatus) vs. Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix and Chris Raynor --> Rules: Standard tag. Word Limit: 5000 Send to: Ace309 -=-=-=- SINGLES MATCH Michael Alexander vs. Danny Dagda --> Rules: 5000 Word Limit: Send to: chirs3 -=-=-=- HARDCORE MATCH Austin Sly vs. Ghost Machine --> Because, because, because, because, because of the wonderful things he does. Rules: Hardcore Word Limit: 5000 Send to: chirs3 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- As usual, requests be welcome. And yes, I sold us out to EA. I expect every wrestler to be wearing... um... whatever the hell skateboarders wear these days. I have no clue. Fubu? Are people still wearing Fubu?

We needs us a Genesis poster. Fifty gold dabloons to the winner!

*watches that joke/reference fly right over his head* A-wha?

“All Fairytales must come to an end.” Those words—crudely written on a sign by a proud Louisianan fan—are prominently displayed as SWF Storm returns from its final commercial break of the evening. “-And a fairytale could be the best way to describe Alan Clark’s rise,” Mak Francis begins as the cameras shift their focus from the crowd to the announcer’s table. “It’s almost like one of the stories you’d expect from the company he sponsors – a career of never being quite good enough, only to rise above everyone who doubted you and become the Heavyweight Champion of the World.” “I hear it’s been optioned by Pixar,” King adds. “Alan and the Great Gold Belt – Russell Crowe has been rumored to lead the talented cast of voice actors.” “Somehow… It wouldn’t surprise me,” Mak returns. “However, the question for tonight is will the fairytale come to a crashing end at the hands of Johnny Dangerous? The one man that has been after our World Champion since he won the title now has his one on one shot. I don’t know about you, King, but I’m ready to see this one get started. Let’s turn this over to Funyon!” *DING DING DING!!* “Ladies and gentlemen,” booms Funyon. “The following contest is tonight’s MAIN EVENT~ and it is scheduled for ONE FALL for the SWF WORLD… HEAVYWEIGHT… CHAMPIONSHIP~!” “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!” Funyon pauses for the near obligatory pop. Once the fans settle the ring announcer continues; “Introducing first, the challenger… ” The lights darken once and the Smarktron lights up. A video displaying an image of a fuse fizzling down towards a stick of dynamite begins with the Mission Impossible theme ringing out across the arena. Finally, through all the vibrant lights and the cloud of smoke comes the Barracuda, silhouetted by the strobes with occasional flashes reflecting off his high-tech shades as he turns his head from side-to-side, looking out at his crowd! “JOHN-NY!” “JOHN-NY!” “From Las Vegas, Nevada,” booms Funyon, “and weighing in tonight at two hundred and twenty five pounds; he is JOHNNY ‘THE BARRACUDA’ DAAAANN-GGEEEEEERRRROOOUUUSSS!!” “Finally!” the ‘Franchise’ Mak Francis exclaims. “After a year of working towards a World Title match the Barracuda’s one on one opportunity is here!” “You mean after a year of floundering,” Suicide King returns disparagingly. “This match is nothing more than a way to settle contract stipulations. There is no way the Barracuda actually walks out of here with the Championship – he’s but a shell of his former self that was barely able to win the belt the first two times. Now Alan Clark… boy is he something else! He has come a long, and I mean a long ways from where he was to take his place at the top of the mountain.” “AND HIS OPPONENT… ” “Please Stand Clear Of…” the announcement fades, being replaced by the orchestral sounds of “To Die For”, an apt description if there ever was on for the championship Alan Clark wears around his own waist as he steps through the curtain with Walter Reynolds a few short strides behind. “…being accompanied to the ring by Walter Reynolds...representing Epcot’s United Kingdom Pavilion and weighing in at two-hundred-twenty-five pounds…he is the CURRENT, REIGNING, DEFENDING AND UNDISPUTED SWF WORLD… HEAVYWEIGHT… CHAMPION… AAAALAAAAAAAAAAN CLLLAAAAAAAARRRRRK!!” “AL-AN SUCKS!” “AL-AN SUCKS!” Alan makes his way towards the ring, seemingly unfazed by the verbal lashing he receives from the fans lining the isles on both sides of the walkway - not once does the huge, shit-eating grin that he proudly displays across his face, the grin that’s nearly become synonymous with his name since winning the World Championship, even look like it’s about to falter. “Just look at Alan Clark,” King says. “Tell me that’s the face of a worried man! Does he look threatened to you!?” “Well not-” “NO!” King shouts, not even giving Francis the opportunity to answer. “He’s not in the least bit concerned about any of the Barracuda’s so called vengeance or retribution for 13th Hour; he knows that he has Johnny’s number! He knows the Barracuda can’t back it up!” Alan heads into the ring as Walter Reynolds takes a seat at ringside. Alan unfastens the World Title from his waist and dangles the belt out to his side. Ronald ‘Red’ Herrington, the official for this match, takes the belt from Clark, shows it to Johnny then raises it out to the fans, letting them feast their eyes on the coveted prize before finally turning it over to a ringside assistant. “I think that’s the closest Johnny’s going to get to that belt!” snickers King. Alan shares the announcer’s sentiments. He pantomimes the title belt around his waist then points to Johnny, and scoffs at the notion of Dangerous winning it. “The arrogance,” Mak mutters, shaking his head in disgust. Johnny’s eyes narrow and he tightens his knuckles, balling up a solid fist. It’s obvious that Dangerous is ready to pounce all over Alan, and make his title reign no more than a simple afterthought. He’ll have to wait though. Before ordering the start of this match, the referee systematically checks the two men for foreign objects. Herrington ends his search with a satisfactory nod then turns towards the timekeeper and signals for the bell. *DING DING DING!!* “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!” “Alright! This is it!” Mak happily exclaims as the crowd buzzes with excitement. It’s all smiles for Alan Clark, as usual, while the Barracuda remains rather straight-faced as he keeps his concentration on the World Champion instead of the noise of the crowd that swirls all around them. “This is for all the marbles, King! Whoever wins here tonight will not only be the World Champion, but will also main event the biggest show of the year – Genesis!” “Yeah, but after all the hateful words and actions traded back and forth between these two they have their chance to finally settle it, but nobody is moving! What gives!?” No sooner than the moment Gambling Man’s question comes forth is when they finally move in towards each other, almost simultaneously, looking for a collar-and-elbow tie up - *CRACK!* - but Johnny opts out of the technical game, and instead fires off a lighting quick, stiff punch to the World Champion’s jaw! “Ooh!” Mak shouts, as do most in attendance. Alan’s head is rocked on his shoulders from the surprisingly stiff opening shot! For the Barracuda, after all the 13th Hour double teaming he took and all the crap Alan Clark’s dished out, that felt punch felt incredibly good… and it’s just the first of many to come! “Dangerous isn’t looking to wrestle – he came here for a fight!” *CRACK!* Johnny slams a second fist into Alan’s face followed by a quick backhand, and then finishes with a spinning back-fist to send the shocked Champion to the mat! Johnny drops for a lateral press but Clark rolls back up to his feet before the referee can even think about getting down on all fours to make the count! When Alan gets back up he takes a wild swing for his opponent, a move which is mostly out of desperation to keep Dangerous back, but it’s easily dodged by Johnny. Dangerous knees Clark in the gut, forcing the wind out of Clark’s lungs and doubling him over before finishing with a clubbing double axe handle to the back of the World Champion’s neck! Dangerous grabs Alan by his arm and viciously jerks Clark to his feet like a rag doll… and this is when Alan finally connects with a punch of his own, nailing the Barracuda in the face, right between the eyes! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!” Johnny stumbles back and Alan surges forward; if the Barracuda want’s to turn this into a bar room brawl than the Happiest Guy on Earth is going to oblige! Alan lunges with another punch but this time Johnny dodges it. He counters with a forearm smash that catches Clark in the back of his head and then grabs Alan by the arm, stepping forward to whip him across the ring- -but Clark desperately digs his feet into the mat and then reverses the whip. Only instead of sending Dangerous across the ring, Alan pulls him into a stiff, short-armed lariat! *WHACK!* Clark drops down on Johnny for the cover for: ONE! But that’s all he’s going to get for now! Johnny kicks out and quickly pops up to his feet to get back on the defensive, but Clark isn’t going to just play into the Barracuda’s game of slugging it out any longer and he takes a long step back, forcing the Barracuda into another stand off. “I don’t think Alan was expecting the Barracuda to be so aggressive,” Mak suggests. Alan begins to move in a circle, beckoning the Barracuda towards him even as the crowd pleads with Johnny not to. However, Johnny’s focused on one thing right now – whooping Alan’s little orange and black stripped, Disney-loving ass! Johnny moves in and accepts Clark’s offer for a collar-and-elbow lock up, but Alan quickly breaks the tie up while grabbing his opponent’s arm and spinning around behind him for a hammerlock! Alan cranks back on the arm, but Johnny isn’t about to start handing over body parts this early on without a fight! He suddenly spins around, ripping his arm free of Alan’s grasp and nails the World Champion in the jaw with an elbow! *CRACK!* “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!” Alan stumbles back with a hand to his jaw, feeling his lip for blood as he angrily glares at his opponent. The feeling is mutual, and Johnny stares back just as well--rather intensely in fact--while taking the half second he has to work the kink out of his shoulder. The heated moment sends a buzz through the Louisiana crowd. The cameras move in a little closer to try and get a good close up of these two men and the heated stare down. “IS THAT ALL YOU GOT!?” Clark shouts, motioning for the Barracuda to bring it. Johnny glares hard. He knows that he has to keep himself cool and focused if he wants to stay mistake free and if he wants to win this Championship. However, when Alan winks at him his eyes narrow… and he steps forward. “And it seems like the Barracuda is suffering from an impaired judgment now,” suggests King as Johnny moves back towards Clark, ostensibly reaching for another lock up. Alan graciously reaches to accept the offer when Dangerous suddenly ducks down, wrapping one arm around the Alan’s waist while swinging his back leg up and over… *CRACK!* …and nails Alan square in the face with a Scorpion Kick! “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!” Clark goes flying back into a corner post, knocked senseless! Johnny closes the gap, knowing he only has seconds to make good on this, and fires off a stiff round of right hands into Alan’s Disney-Sponsored skull! Herrington tries to push himself in between the two men while calling for a break, but the Barracuda isn’t about to concede to it just yet! He shoves the referee back out of his way before quickly spinning completely around and hammering Clark in the face with a spinning back fist to floor the Champion! *WHACK!* “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!” The crowd goes completely wild as Alan falls limp onto the mat, and those cheers start to really get Dangerous fired up! Even with the referee following alongside him, admonishing the Barracuda for shoving him back, all Dangerous hears is the cheers of all those gathered in the arena. Johnny rips his shirt off to the appreciative shrieks of all the deprived Louisianan women and flings it into the stands as a chant of his name rings out: “JOHN-NY!” “JOHN-NY!” “JOHN-NY!” “JOHN-NY!” “Unbelievable,” Mak marvels. “Johnny Dangerous has unloaded on the World Champion. Everyone who has called him a has-been recently might be pulling their foot out of their mouth right about now, Alan Clark included.” “Dangerous might have won the opening minute, but he hasn’t come close to winning the match yet!” King shouts lividly. “You’re right about that,” agrees Francis. “Also worth mentioning is that Alan might not be in his finest form either – he has only competed in about three matches since winning the World Championship, while Johnny has competed in a truckload of matches.” “Please, you’re trying to call our World Champion rusty!?” “No, but Dangerous body just might be more conditioned!” With one hand, Alan reaches for the top rope to pull himself up while patting his lip, checking for blood. The shots have left him a little dazed, but more angered than anything. He gets all the way up to a vertical base and Johnny is stopped half way across the ring, beckoning him nearer. “COME ON, CLARK!” Johnny shouts with the cameras still picking it up. He tries to entice his opponent in, and gets more cheers from the fans for the effort. However, Alan Clark is no fool and he certainly isn’t about to rush in for Johnny Dangerous half cocked – he’ll leave that for the Barracuda. He carefully steps forward, off the ropes, making sure his dazed spell has left and once more the two start to circle each other as the noise of the crowd swirls all around them! Suddenly, Johnny feigns closing in on his opponent, but Alan isn’t buying. He stands still, readying himself for whatever hair-brained scheme the Barracuda has cooked up this time - *CRACK!* - but apparently he still doesn’t see Johnny coming with his faithful right knuckles! He clocks Alan square in the chin, rocking his head on that Disney-Sponsored neck and then swings a second time, but this time Clark is ready! He ducks down and floats around behind the Barracuda, wrapping his arms around the secret agent’s waist, looking to take him off his feet with a deadly German suplex! It never comes though, and you can thank the quick thinking of Johnny Dangerous sandbagging all his weight down as he pries Alan’s fingers off of his waist! Dangerous quickly spins around, reversing the situation on Clark and tightly grabbing around Alan’s midsection instead! “He’s got him!” shouts Francis, but before Dangerous can start the motions for his German- *CRACK!* -elbows fly backwards! Johnny ducks the first, but he isn’t as lucky with a second that catches him right in the temple to an “OOOOOH!” from the crowd, briefly stunning him, which is all Alan needs. He grabs Johnny’s arm then spins out to face his opponent while twisting, turning, striving to take Johnny’s arm into a wrench, “-and already Alan is trying to take control of Johnny’s arm,” notes Francis, “but I don’t think Johnny is about to give that arm up just yet!” “Maybe not just yet,” replies King. “However, we both know what kind of an expert Alan Clark is with working body parts into a submission. He can make you tap out from two different submissions at the same time!” “When the hell did Alan become a submission expet?” “Since he made Toxxic tap 6 months ago, that’s when!” However, Dangerous powers out before Alan can get a firm hold of the arm – spinning out of the World Champion’s grasp then swinging his leg around with a spinning heel kick! NO! Clark ducks down just enough to miss the intended kick, which whizzes just slightly past his head, and then he grabs around Johnny’s waist once more. This time Dangerous has no time to sandbag and Alan hauls him up, over, and down to the mat with a textbook German suplex! *WHAM!* Clark holds the bridge, as Suicide King marvels, “What a photo op!” and Red Herrington counts: ONE! TW-NO! Johnny gets the shoulder up and quickly rolls up to his feet. Unfortunately, Alan isn’t about to give the Barracuda any room to breathe and he grabs Johnny by the arm to send him barreling across the ring with an Irish whip! Johnny rebounds towards Clark and suddenly dives towards him with a shoulder block, flooring the World Champion before taking his turn at the three-count! ONE! TW-NO! “Clark gets the shoulder up right at two,” reports Mak. “These two are really starting to heat up that ring once more!” Alan gets back up and already, Dangerous is heading across the ring once more. Clark quickly bellies out as the Barracuda comes back towards him, hot off the ropes and Dangerous floats right over him and then continues towards the opposite side of the ring. Once more Johnny comes back off the ropes, trying to build some serious steam against his opponent, but the Disney-Freak quickly jumps back to his feet with his arm cocked back and- *SMACK!* “WHOOOOOOOOO!” *SMACK!* “WHOOOOOOOOO!” *SMACK!* “WHOOOOOOOOO!” *SMACK!* “WHOOOOOOOOO!” -unloads on the Barracuda with a series of eye-watering knife-edge ‘Cinderella Chops’, lighting up Dangerous’ tanned chest! Those chops send Johnny staggering backwards into the ropes, clutching his stinging chest and grimacing in pain as Alan takes off towards the opposite side of the ring then comes charging right back at the Secret Agent- *WHACK!* “OOOOOOOOH!!” “And Alan Clark absolutely PLASTERS Johnny in the chest with a stiff lariat, sending him tumbling over the top rope to the cold, thinly-padded concrete floor!” reports King, “that was about as brutal as having a tire iron wrapped across your chest!” “While I certainly have doubts that Alan Clark is packing that kind of a punch, he’s definitely been successful at thwarting most of the Barracuda’s offense in the past minute,” the Franchise says. “Johnny is getting himself into some dark territory here… and Alan is enjoying every minute of it.” A wide-toothed grin dresses Alan’s face as he glares down at Johnny Dangerous, struggling to gather his bearings, “-and I think Alan had forgotten the rush that comes from just completely dominating someone; stomping out what little flame of hope and desire that burns inside Johnny to regain the World Heavyweight Championship has got to be a blast,” says King. “I know I’d enjoy it.” Mak Francis just shakes his head. Alan takes off across the ring once more as Johnny reaches out for the ring apron and starts dragging himself to his feet! All the while, Herrington counts on towards the dreaded ten-count for Dangerous being on the outside of the ring. But the count looks like it will quickly come to a close - Johnny having pulled himself all the way up to his feet and- *CRACK!* Hot off running the ropes Alan races back in, drops to his posterior, and stretches both feet out and into the Barracuda’s face with a picture-perfect baseball slide! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!” Herrington admonishes Alan but he simply waves the stanch referee off and slides under the bottom rope, out of the ring, and heads towards Dangerous. Herrington restarts his count as Alan grabs Johnny by the scalp of his hair and drags him to his feet before pushing him up against the crowd barricade, and cutting loose with more chops! ONE! *SMACK!* “WHOOOOOOOOO!” TWO! *SMACK!* “WHOOOOOOOOO!” THREE! *SMACK!* “WHOOOOOOOOO!” FOUR! Alan struts away momentarily, cockily shaking off his hand and blowing on it while Johnny drops to one knee, cradling his chest. FIVE! Suddenly, Alan comes rushes back towards the Barracuda from behind and nails him in the back of the head with a running palm strike! *CRACK!* “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” SIX! “Oh, man,” says Mak, wincing at the impact of Johnny going face-first into the floor. “Alan Clark is just terrorizing the Barracuda out there right now!” “What comes around goes around,” King replies. “Johnny’s tried to start off this match slugging Alan like this was a backyard brawl and now he’s getting it right back! Paybacks a b(Bleep!)ch!” Finally, Herrington has seen enough. He drops out of the ring and orders Alan to get Johnny back into the ring. Clark’s first reaction is that of a little surprise, but he quickly reminds himself that he can’t take a disqualification – for the sake of his own personal pride and to finally put a sock in the Barracuda’s mouth, he needs to beat Johnny decisively, in the middle of the ring. Not to mention Disney would tan his little hide for it, and so he grabs the Barracuda by his collar and heaves him into the ring, under the bottom rope, before climbing to the apron. Johnny is sprawled on the canvas face-up, not to far from where Alan stands on the outside of the ring. Obviously, this gives Clark no choice but go all out, cruiserweight style, and he reaches forward to grab the middle rope then springs to the top rope and vaults off, turning 450 degrees in midair before coming down hard on the Barracuda! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” “What an absolutely incredible Fauntleroy by Alan Clark!” calls King. “This could be all over!” ONE!!! TWO!!! TH-NO!!!! Johnny kicks out then rolls up to his hands and knees. Alan, meanwhile, gets back to his feet and takes a step back. With Dangerous still stunned, he takes advantage by sliding forward and hitting him with a perfect sitdown dropkick to the head! Dangerous collapses again. This time, though, Alan grabs him by the arms and drags him towards a corner. “Oh, good lord,” murmurs Francis, knowing (as all the fans do) what’s about to happen. “Parkhopper coming up!” Johnny isn’t about to let himself get dragged around like a rag doll, though, so long as he can help it, anyway. He fights back, pulling his arm away from Clark before the World Champion plants a boot on Johnny’s face and scrapes it forward! Johnny grabs his face, screaming in pain as the sole of Alan’s bright orange boot grinds the skin on his face. Alan smirks, then kicks away Johnny’s hands and plants his boot on his face once again, and then once again scrapes it off! Sadistically, Alan nails a stiff toe-kick to Johnny’s chin before boot-scraping him a third time! Dangerous, still stunned from the kicks and bootscrapes, can’t put up a fight as Clark grabs his leg and looks for a spinning toe-hold! “He doesn’t look so rusty now,” says King. “He might not have been competing as much but he hasn’t stopped paying attention. Michael Alexander absolutely thrashed the Barracuda’s leg last Storm and Clark’s going to see just how well it’s healed up. If I were a gambling man and hey wait a second… I am! I’d say Johnny’s leg has got to be sore still!” Alan wrenches the toe hold, twisting at the Barracuda’s knee before stepping one foot over… “Is Alan going for a figure-four?” Francis asks. “I don’t think I’ve seen him use this before!” “Everyone uses the figure four now days,” says King sarcastically. “It’s the new ankle lock of the SWF.” As Clark steps around, he reaches for Dangerous’ free leg… only to be grabbed by the head and pulled to the mat in a small package! ONE!! TWO!!! TH-KICKOUT! Alan rolls away, but Dangerous pops back up to his feet, his eyes blazing! “Apparently he didn’t watch Johnny’s match against Michael Alexander too closely,” says Mak, “Dangerous caught the Mad Genius in several of those roll ups.” Alan seethes as he gets to his feet, only to eat a dropkick to the face that sends him staggering backwards into a corner! He tries to fight his way out, but Johnny beats him to the punch by running in and nailing him with a koppo kick! As Dangerous recovers from the somersaulting whip kick, Alan slumps into the corner, wincing in pain! “Once again Alan is losing ground to the Barracuda,” Mak reports. As Johnny gets back to his feet, he quickly mounts the bottom rope and throws a stiff kick to Alan’s thigh. Alan’s body jumps, and does so again as Dangerous throws a kick to his ribs. Finally, he leaps to the middle rope and throws a picture-perfect enzuigiri that seems to turn out Clark’s Disney-Sponsored lights! Johnny lands on his feet, and Alan staggers forward one step… and then another… and finally flops down onto his face. Inexplicably, the crowd explodes. “I have no idea why they love that so much,” deadpans King. “Eh, who’s to say what’s right or wrong in this mixed up world we live in?” asks Francis. Johnny Dangerous knows, however, that he doesn’t have time to screw around. He drops down onto the barely-conscious Clark and rolls him onto his shoulders. He makes the cover as Red Herrington counts ONE!!!! TWO!!!!! THR- NO!!!!! “Clark gets a shoulder up,” says Mak Francis, “and he avoids having to stick another zero in his win column against Johnny Dangerous.” “Oh, come on,” King spits. “Alan Clark didn’t become World Champion without learning how to out do a buffoon like Johnny Dangerous. Heck he did beat Johnny twice in route to the title – he’s got his number for a third, you just watch!” Alan rolls to his stomach. Dangerous, running on pure adrenaline, grabs him from behind and locks his hands around his stomach. Clark drops to one knee, trying to sandbag and keep his challenger from executing his German suplex… but even Clark’s sandbagging can’t keep an angry secret agent from pulling him off the mat and throwing him over his head! Clark lands on his shoulders and the back of his neck, letting out a loud exhalation as Johnny keeps his grip. He rolls through, and tries to lift Clark again. “Any minute now and Alan will make his move,” the Gambling Man continues, but Johnny has less trouble this time, and cleanly lifts Clark off the mat only to take him to his back once again with another textbook German suplex! He rolls through, and Clark’s face is clearly screwed into a mask of pain as Johnny finally gets another clean lift off the mat! With a powerful back-arch, Dangerous overcomes the fatigue and executes a third German! This time, he holds the bridge, and Red Herrington counts ONE!!!! TWO!!!!! THRE- NO!!!!!!! Clark just barely gets a shoulder up, “-and he survives another pin attempt,” says Francis, “but how much longer can he last?” Alan kneels on the mat, trying to catch his breath as his opponent refuses to let up. Keeping the pressure on, Johnny scissors Clark’s head and grabs him around the waist, prompting a cheer from the crowd! “Dangerous looks to be going for some sort of power bomb,” observes Mak. “Perhaps we’ll see an electric chair drop, which just happens to be Wild and Dangerous’ Dangerous Drop!” “He’s probably stupid enough to attempt that just as you are for even mentioning it,” spits King. “You can’t do a Dangerous Drop when your tag partner isn’t here to complete the move!” Dangerous uses every bit of his strength he has in his weakened state to lift the 225-pound Alan off the mat, normally it wouldn’t be a problem but the beating he’s taken so far as done a number on him. He lifts Clark up and then, at the height of his lift- *WHAM!* -throws him to the mat with a sickening jackknife power bomb! “OH MY GOD!” both announcers shout in unison while the censored crowd chants: “HOLY S(BLEEP!)T!” “HOLY S(BLEEP!)T!” “HOLY S(BLEEP!)T!” “HOLY S(BLEEP!)T!” “Johnny just rocked Alan Clark’s world with that one!” Mak shouts, “but he’s too winded to capitalize!” For a moment, Dangerous lies still while franticly trying to catch his breath, but then he pushes himself to go forward. He crawls towards the World Champion and then drops down over him as Herrington drops down and counts for: ONE!!! TWO!!!!!! THREE!!!!!!! NO!!!!!!! Herrington waves off the fall, pointing at Clark’s leg draped over the bottom rope! Johnny looks over and, as he sees the reason for invalidating the fall, nearly collapses. Clark, meanwhile, digs down deep and, despite his lack of energy, manages to pull himself to his feet. There’s no rest for the weary, however; Johnny Dangerous, knowing how close he is to gaining the World Heavyweight Championship back won’t let Clark recover. He grabs the Champion and whips him across the ring, into the turnbuckles. Clark slumps into the corner, but he manages to still keep his eye on the challenger. As the Barracuda charges at him, Clark quickly ducks down. Johnny makes contact, and Clark pops up into a back-body drop, then drops to his knees and slams his opponent face-first into the turnbuckles! *CRACK!* Dangerous collapses in the corner as Alan, wincing in pain, manages to work himself to his feet. Breathing hard, he seems unable to do anything. However, with a look of pain on his face, he reaches out and grabs his opponent in a full nelson. With a scream and a powerful back arch and hip pop, he lifts Johnny into a dragon suplex. At the high point of the lift, he unlocks his hands, unable to hold on for the bridge, and sends Dangerous sailing! “MALEFICENT JOURNEY~!” screams Suicide King, as Johnny crumples in a heap on his neck and shoulders, landing as if he’d been held in a bridge. Dangerous lays in his bent-up position, feet over head, shoulders down, for several seconds as Clark takes a knee halfway across the ring, his head still spinning from the jackknife. “He was too dazed to hold on for the bridge, but he could still get him! Come on, Clark!” Alan knows this match has already gone on for far too long. Dangerous has already come far too close to capturing his Championship. He needs to end this one and he needs to end it now. Alan stands. He’s a little shaky at first but he knows he can work through it and then he points to the roof! “Alan’s signaling that he’s going up top!” “Is he crazy!?” King shouts in response. “He only has a 50/50 chance of hitting something high risk! If he misses it could be disastrous!” “But if he makes it than he’ll have defeated Johnny Dangerous,” Mak counters. Alan steps out through the middle rope and then strolls to the nearest turnbuckle by way of the outside ring apron. Carefully he climbs up… …and Dangerous sees what he’s up to and suddenly rolls to his feet and bolts towards the corner! “Watch out, Alan!” Johnny quickly jams a fist into Clark’s face to stop the Champion dead in his tracks! Whatever Clark had planned on doing will hopefully have been averted for now. Alan is somewhat stunned from the Barracuda’s punch but not so much that he can’t return fire and he does just that! *SMACK!* However, Johnny isn’t fazed as much. Alan having to throw a punch while keeping his balance on the top of the ring post took a good amount of heat off his blow. Johnny reaches up, grabbing Clark by the back of his head and- *CRACK!* -slams his forehead into Alan’s, stunning the World Champion! Johnny shoots up the turnbuckle and grabs onto Clark to keep him from falling and rolls the World Champion onto his shoulders! “What the heck is he trying to do!?” King roars in disbelief as Johnny attempts to balance himself on the post while standing straight up… with Clark draped across his shoulders. When Dangerous finally stands the crowd roars in delight and moves to the edges of their seats. “SPINAL EXPLOSION!” Mak hollers. “Dangerous is about to attempt the most vicious Spinal Explosion I’ve ever seen, right off the turnbuckles!” Dangerous only considers what he’s doing for a second. A second later and he leaps off the post, somersaulting into the ring and forcing the World Champion back-first into the ring! *WHAM!* “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!” “He hit it! Oh my God! A Spinal Explosion from the turnbuckle!” Mak shouts. The crowd explodes from the hellacious hit and then watches as the Barracuda scrambles back over the World Champion and covers him, hooking the leg for added leverage! Herrington counts: ONE! TWO!! THREE!!! *DING DING DING!!* “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!” Herrington heads over to Johnny with the World Heavyweight Championship in hand. Dangerous’ music thumps from pillar to post and the entire arena is on their feet with a roaring, thunderous cheer. However, nothing makes the realization of this moment really sink in like the referee handing him the title belt and then raising his hand triumphantly! “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, HERE IS YOUR WINNER,” Funyon blasts, desperately trying to make himself heard over the crowd noise. “AND NEW SWF WORLD… HEAVYWEIGHT… CHAMPION… JOHNNY ‘THE BARRACUDA’ DAAAAAANN-GGGEEEERRRROOOOUUUSSSS!!!” “Can you believe this, King!? Johnny Dangerous is going to Genesis as the World Heavyweight Champion for a second time!” “Hopefully he’ll loose it there for a second time,” King grumbles crossly. That’s a matter for a different time. For now, it’s Johnny Dangerous’ moment. He climbs the corner post and raises the title out in both hands as thousands of flashbulbs pop from all sides of the arena… As we: FADE OUT.

RING! RING! RING! Sir Marvelous flips open his cell phone. “You got Anderson.” “…” “Well,” Marvelous drawls with a sinister grin, “if it isn’t my favorite ex-client! How can I help you, Mister LeCroix?” “…” “You want to do what?” “…” “Why sure, Dominic,” replies Anderson, “I’ll be happy to represent you interests in this matter… but it’s going to cost you.” “…” “Well, I’ve been looking to enhance Mister Bruner’s visibility within the fed,” says Marvelous. “You know, a few high profile opponents, maybe a title shot…” “…” “Don’t you worry about that, young man,” says Anderson. “Just let me do what I do best; I’ll call you with the good news.” With that, he turns to look at his bodyguard and smiles. “I told you this was going to be a good day.” *** TEN MINUTES LATER *** “He wants to do what?” asks an incredulous Tom Flesher. “I said that he wants to…” “No, no,” interrupts Flesher wearily, “I heard you the first time… But why?” “My client feels that he should be allowed to compete with his shin guards on,” explains Anderson, “and he cites several examples of previous wrestlers that have competed with shin guards on.” “Yeah,” replies Flesher, “but none of those guys used their legs as much as Wildchild does… I really don’t think it’s a good idea to allow him to wrestle with those things on.” “Mister Flesher, I’d like for you to reconsider,” says Anderson. “You’ve got too much on your plate to worry about something like this.” Tom rolls his eyes. “Like what?” “Oh, I don’t know… Genesis, perhaps?” Flesher’s eyes narrow. “What the hell are you getting at, Anderson?” “Well, as you know, as a result of the actions of your little English terrorist, Toxxic, my client suffered a Grade-2 concussion at the last pay-per-view, and has been at home convalescing since then,” says Anderson slyly. “I may want to advise my client to continue to convalesce until after Genesis… you know, for health reasons… And I’d hate to think of how hard it will be to promote your biggest show of the year without your number two face being there.” “Okay, let’s get one thing straight, you little worm,” snarls Tom. “I don’t respond well to extortion. You really don’t want to get on my bad side.” “Why, Mister Flesher,” says Marvelous appeasingly, “I would never presume to do such a thing; I’m just doing my part to help ensure that you’re able to put on the best show possible here at Genesis.” “Yeah right,” replies Flesher. “I’ll think it over, alright… I’ll be in touch.” As soon as Flesher hears Anderson hangs up, he throws his phone across the room. “SON OF A BITCH!”

“Folks, welcome back to Storm,” Mak Francis greets the viewers as Storm returns from commercial, “we may have fewer than matches than usual tonight but it’s still value for money-” “Not that anyone’s paying to see this,” the Suicide King cuts in. “-because coming up next we have the first of two title matches,” The Franchise continues with a sideward glance at his commentary partner. “The World Title is on the line in our main event as Johnny Dangerous goes one-on-one with Alan Clark-” “Can’t wait.” “-but for now we have the SWF World Tag Team Titles up for grabs,” Mak says, restraining the impulse to slap King upside the head, “as Winston Churchill challenges the reigning champions, Revolution Zero.” It is at that moment that a gong rings out around the arena, drawing everyone’s attention to the soundstage. Funyon realises what’s going on and decides he needs to get the introductions out before anything too weird happens… “Ladies and gentlemen, the following tag team contest is scheduled for one fall and is for the SWF World Tag Team Championships!” the veteran ring announcer booms. “Introducing first-” *BOOOM! BOOOM! BOOOM! BANG! BANG! BANG! BOOOM!* Winston Churchill’s signature black pyro explodes from, like, everywhere. Funyon sighs, waits for it to finish and then continues. “Introducing first, at a combi-” *BOOOM!* Funyon glowers at one of the ringposts, which appears to have gone off late. “At a com-” *BOOOM!* That was one side of the soundstage. Funyon is clearly less than impressed. “Introdu-” *BOOOM!* Lighting rig. Funyon plants his hands on his hips and glares around at the arena in general, waiting to see if anything else is going to explode. When nothing pyrotechnic happens he snorts, straightens his bowtie raises his microphone and opens his mouth… and pauses. Nothing happens. “Introducing first, the challe-” *BOOOM!* “GODDAMMIT!” …and on the Smarktron the imposing visage of Winston Churchill himself appears, altering over the next few seconds to gain glowing red eyes and a truly alarming goatee and moustache combination! This is the signal for four tie-died sheep to canter down the entrance ramp and make a brief circle of the ring in classic numbskull sheep fashion before hurdling the guardrail with surprising agility and careering off through the crowd. Then all the arena lights drop out and spotlight spears down from above to focus on the soundstage where C.A.P.Y.B.A.R.A. is rising into view as golden smoke billows up and around him. For this special occasion, the massive rodent is wearing golden sunglasses. As the lift settles into place Tiny Tim starts singing ‘Tipetoe Through The Tulips’ and as golden sparks start to rain down Jimmy The Doom and Fulminatus step out from the back! “YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “IntroducingfirstthechallengersaccompaniedtotheringbyC.A.P.Y.BA.R.A.atacombinedw ightof420lbstheyaretheteamofJimmyTheDoomandtheSWFNewBloodChampionFulminatus,” Funyon gabbles, then sucks in a breath, “WINNNNNNNNNNN-STONNNNNNNNNNNNN… CHURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR- *BOOOM!* “FOR FUCK’S SAKE!” “Well King, we saw Toxxic sabotage Jay Hawke’s entrance in their match two weeks ago, but I’m fairly sure there is no way that anyone could sabotage this,” Mak comments as Fulminatus, Jimmy and the C.A.P.Y.B.A.R.A. make their way down the entrance ramp as the fans cheer around them. “Winston Churchill are perhaps the most unorthodox tag team we’ve ever seen in the SWF, and I have to wonder whether even the teamwork we have seen Toxxic and Austin Sly bring over the last couple of months will be enough to see them off.” “Unorthodox means jack, Francis,” the Suicide King snorts. “A paper hammer would be unorthodox, it doesn’t mean it’s good or effective. Personally I think the fact that these clowns got a shot before the team of MANSON and Michael Alexander is a travesty.” Winston Churchill take a brief detour over to their merchandise stand where they spend a quick thirty seconds flogging everything they can to nearby fans, then tie C.A.P.Y.B.A.R.A. to the guard rail and climb into the ring, where Funyon eyes them with some malice. The fans seem to be into the team… …but suddenly the mood changes as the Smarktron whites out, every light in the arena hits full and there is the faint sound of a needle scratching over vinyl… “WEL-WEL-W-W-WELCOME TO THE REVOLUTION!” The deep voice booms out around the arena and the Smarktron changes to show a rotating ‘REV-0’ logo, interspersed with clips of the members of the Revolution as the epileptic guitar of ‘Know Your Enemy’ by Rage Against The Machine fires up. For some thirty seconds the song sputters on as spotlights sweep the crowd… and then the main riff kicks in. *BOOOM!* *BOOOM!* *BOOOM!* ‘KNOW YOUR ENEMY!’ Zack de la Rocha’s voice roars out, and with that the defending champions appear! Toxxic comes first with a lopsided grin on his face and his red-and-black canvas trenchcoat flapping around him, one title belt strapped around his waist while the other is slung over his right shoulder. Meanwhile Austin Sly follows behind with a slightly more sober demeanour and his own two title belts dangling one from each hand. “And their opponents,” Funyon booms, “at a combined weight of 458lbs, they are the SWF Stable Champions and the reigning and defending SWF World Tag Team Champions; the team of Austin Sly and ‘The Straight-Edge Sensation’ Toxxic… REVOLUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-TION… ZERRRRRRRRRRRRR-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Toxxic unstraps both his belts and throws them into the ring over the top rope for referee Brian Warner to catch, then rolls into the ring. Sly chooses to walk up the ring steps before climbing into the squared circle in a slightly more traditional way before handing his own straps over. “Revolution Zero ‘won’ the Stables Titles last week after a three-on-one beatdown of Chris Raynor in a Handicap Match,” Mak Francis says, then corrects himself. “Well, actually they beat him down before the match. I can’t see how can really lay claim to the belts with no other stables around to challenge them-” “Never stopped the Carnival,” King cuts in, “and besides, does the lack of challengers prevent them from being the best stable? On the contrary, I’d say it confirms it!” “Whatever,” Mak sighs, “we also heard Toxxic say earlier tonight that he intends to put himself into the main event of Genesis by challenging either Alan Clark or Johnny Dangerous for the World Title, so is his focus really going to be on the Tag Titles now?” “Mak, Toxxic in the main event at Genesis isn’t just a good idea, it’s absolutely damn necessary,” King says, “especially since we’re guaranteed to have to put up with either World Champion Clark who wishes he could Become A Real Boy or, even worse, Johnny Dangermouse. I mean don’t get me wrong, Clark can be amusingly sadistic at times,” the Gambling Man admits, “but at the end of the day he’s Disney sponsored, and that shit’s just wrong. As for tonight, Toxxic would only need half his focus anyway to take down these two on his own, and he’s got Austin Sly with him so he wouldn’t even need that. They’ve got the experience edge, the teaming edge, the advantage of being champions, and unlike their opponents neither one of them fucking sucks, so I think they’ll be OK.” *DING-DING-DING!* The bell goes, and it finds Austin Sly and Jimmy The Doom in the ring to start off. Jimmy advances forwards with as little thought for personal safety as ever, and Austin meets him in a lock-up that sees both men jockeying for position. With them seemingly well-matched for strength Sly is either unwilling or too impatient to see who slips or weakens first, and he abruptly drops a shoulder and twists away from Jimmy’s grasp, slipping behind the Doomtopian to grab a rear waistlock before hoisting his lanky opponent up and twisting around to dump Doom down onto his face with a classic takedown. Austin pulls back and tries to gain purchase on one of Jimmy’s long legs, but Doom manages to turn over onto his back and kick out at him with the opposite limb to catch Sly in the chest and send him staggering backwards. Jimmy rolls back up to his feet with an ungainly flailing of arms and legs but Sly is ready for him and dives back in with a double-leg takedown that dumps the Doomtopian onto his back; Sly tries to manipulate Jimmy’s legs together this time to prevent his opponent from using one of them to kick him away, but Doom starts firing off punches at Sly’s head with his long arms, then reaches up and grabs the Revolutionary to deliver a headbutt. *CRACK!* Sly wobbles sideways and Doom gets back up to a vertical base, grabs hold of Sly’s arm and applies an armwringer. Austin growls in annoyance, drops down and rolls across the mat to release the tension on his arm, then comes up to his feet and adds a twist to apply an armwringer of his own in one smooth motion. Jimmy drops down and rolls himself, but doesn’t seem to put enough momentum behind it and ends up flat on his back. Sly looks down curiously, and Doom chooses that moment to sit up and bite his opponent on the kneecap. ‘Yeowch!’ Sly yelps, hopping away as the crowd cheers and Brian Warner remonstrates with Jimmy for his unorthodox tactic. Doom pays the official no heed on this occasion however, and instead pursues Sly and clamps a headlock on the dual champion before Austin can recover his composure. Doom tows his reluctant opponent towards the Winston Churchill corner and reaches out a long arm to tag Fulminatus, but just as the tag is made and the Cruiserweight Chaos Engine leaps over the ropes into the match Sly is able to disentangle himself and backpedal sharply to keep sufficient distance between himself and this new threat. Sly looks ready to square up to Fulminatus, but Toxxic calls out behind him and extends a hand, looking for a tag into the match. Sly shrugs and obliges, and the Straight-Edge Sensation vaults in over the ropes in a manner very similar to the man he’s about to face. “FUL-MIN-A-TUS!” “FUL-MIN-A-TUS!” “Well, this might be interesting,” Mak Francis notes, “Fulminatus appears to have been attempting to ‘court’ Toxxic’s sister Amy… with less than spectacular success, it must be noted. I wonder if her brother might try and give the New Blood Champion a few lessons here?” “Mak, Toxxic barely cared when Landon was sleeping with Amy,” Suicide King says, “he only got involved when the Cockroach threatened to Demonstar her. I doubt he really cares about what this masked freak gets off to in his fantasy world.” Fulminatus is virtually skipping around the ring while Toxxic watches in what can only be described as good-natured amusement. The Englishman starts to move to pursue but Fulminatus is a wily foe and keeps dodging. Finally Toxxic just breaks into a full sprint and gives chase around the squared circle with Fulminatus rolling, ducking, diving and just plain keeping out of Toxxic’s reach. “FUL-MIN-A-TUS!” “FUL-MIN-A-TUS!” “He’s running away!” King shouts, “coward!” Finally, Fulminatus is cornered. Toxxic dashes forward, black-nailed hands spread wide, and the Cruiserweight Chaos Engine jumps for what looks like the only way out… but it is not to be. *slap* ‘Tag! You’re it!’ Toxxic yells as his hand catches Fulminatus on the shoulder. The masked wrestler stops, clearly confused, and looks back at his opponent. Toxxic just grins slightly sheepishly… and Fulminatus starts grinning too. Suddenly realisation dawns on Toxxic as he realises that he’s backed into a corner and Fulminatus, with his new-found ‘it’ power is bearing down on him eager to continue the game. The Cruiserweight Chaos Engine lunges- *WHAM!* -and Toxxic floors him with a European uppercut, then starts stomping on his chest. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “What the hell was that?” King asks, completely perplexed. “Uhh… I think Toxxic suckered Fulminatus into a game of tag, then stopped playing very suddenly,” Mak Francis speculates as the crowd voice their disapproval, possibly at such bad sportsmanship. “Who the hell starts playing tag in the middle of a wrestling match?” “Apparently Fulminatus. I guess he thought ‘tag match’ had a different meaning.” Toxxic reaches down and drags his winded opponent off the mat and into an upright position, then sizes him up… RIGHT! LEFT! RIGHT! LEFT! …Toxxic backs up a step and flips an offensive v-sign at his opponent… DISCUS CLOTHESLINE! …but Fulminatus ducks and rolls under the whirling arm, causing Toxxic to stumble on towards the corner of the ring! However the straight-edger is nothing if not innovative, and he simply allows his momentum to carry him to the turnbuckles, whereupon he leaps to the top rope and then back off, twisting in midair to deliver a flying clothesline to Fulminatus just as the masked wrestler rolls back up to his feet and turns around! *WHAM!* Toxxic knocks Fulminatus to the floor, rolls away to one side… and kips up. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “A Role Reversal by Toxxic keeps control of this match firmly in his hands,” Mak notes. “The challengers seem to be having a hard time getting started in this match.” “They’re going up against on of the most decorated men in the history of the SWF and our business. Oh, and he doesn’t fucking suck.” Toxxic goes to grab his opponent’s arm and hoist him back into the air, but Fulminatus is quick and rolls away before he can be caught. He raises to one knee as Stephens makes an attempt to catch him by the head, but sneaky bastard slips between Toxxic’s legs before raising back to his feet. The Revolutionary turns on his heels just in time to catch a cartwheel kick to the face! “Fortuna’s Wheel!” shouts Mak. Despite his quickness and agility, Fulminatus still finds it hard to land a no handed cartwheel and falls awkwardly on the mat. Toxxic is stunned by the kick and also struggles to get back to his feet. The Deconstruction Dynamo gets behind his opponent as if to stalk him before shooting one hand around Toxxic’s body to his chest and the other one into his armpit. Toxxic yells out in pain as the Armpit Claw is locked in, but not enough to warrant Brian Warner’s attention. Either that, or maybe it’s just how unorthodox and silly this hold looks. But it does hurt. A lot. I promise. “What the hell is this kid doing?” King asks. “I don’t know if he’s trying to hurt Toxxic or just making a misguided pass at him.” “As strange as he may seem, I’m sure that Fulminatus is fully aware of the fact that the best way to a woman’s heart is most likely not to lay with her brother.” Trapped in a bad situation such as this, some people would just simply give up and call it quits. Other people might simply look for the easiest escape that they could find and take their chances with that. Those people don’t turn out to be four-time World Heavyweight Champions, though. Ignoring any pain in his chest, Toxxic lifts his right leg and then stomps his foot down onto Fulminatus’, effectively breaking his control over the hold. The leader of Revolution Zero makes a quick spin to face his opponent before wrapping his hands around the back of the smaller man’s head and placing own head underneath his chin before dropping down for a Sitout Jawbreaker! The Cruiserweight Chaos Engine shoots backwards in pain, landing on the mat with a thud before rolling back up to a sitting position. He reaches at his mask possibly to make sure that there has been no damage done and possibly to make sure that his identity is still hidden; whatever he’s doing it’s a mistake. Turning your back on Toxxic… tisk tisk. Deciding that one submission attempt deserves another in rebuttal, Toxxic takes a seat behind his opponent before reaching forward and grabbing his arms. Leaning back, Toxxic uses his legs to apply a psuedo-full nelson hold and begins to stretch out Fulminatus. “And now Toxxic has locked in a Double Leg Nelson, possible as a bit of payback for the Armpit Claw that he had to endure just a few seconds ago,” explains Mak. “I must admit, Stephens has been doing a good job of keeping one step ahead of the usually impressive newcomer.” “Fulminatus may have been impressive against all the other rookies whenever he won that New Blood Championship but now he’s playing with the big boys, Mak. Hopefully he can learn something from this loss tonight.” “The match isn‘t over until the final bell rings, King. You should know that.” “It might not be over officially, but in all reality everyone already knows what the outcome is going to be. It’s just a matter or time now.” King promises. Toxxic has just began to enjoy his hold by the time that referee Brian Warner informs him that he must break the hold. He apparently wasn’t minding his position in the ring when he applied his hold and was too close to the ropes as Fulminatus has managed to place his foot upon the bottom rope. No matter, though. Stephens releases the hold without even a five count being issued and simply rises back to his feet. The Straight Edge Sensation grabs his opponent by the hand and goes to pull him back to his feet as well, but he’s greeted with a headbutt for his troubles before Fulminatus takes off running for the ropes. He bounces off the ropes only to turn into a streaking Mike Stephens who takes him down with a well executed soccer tackle. Now thoroughly annoyed with his opponent, Toxxic simply hauls his opponent by the leg over to his own corner where Austin Sly stands with one outstretched arm, and makes the tag. With Michael still directing traffic, Austin steps into the ring and manhandles Fulminatus back up to his feet before bending his leg to a ninety degree angle and lifting him into the air. Sly holds his opponent in the air a little longer than usual before slamming him back down across Toxxic’s bent leg with a shinbreaker! Austin quickly rolls his opponent over into a single leg crab as Toxxic bounces off the ropes and delivers a dropkick to the outstretched leg of Fulminatus! “That’s going to hurt!” Mak says in sympathy as Toxxic leaves the ring under the stern gaze of Brian Warner. “It would be a shame to go to all that trouble if it wasn’t going to hurt,” King sneers, “do you think you’re dealing with amateurs here?” Austin leans back into the hold and cranks it for all he’s worth, but Fulminatus is determined to get to the ropes… unfortunately the cruiserweight isn’t going to be able to budge Sly’s 240lbs and firm grip, at least not before the Missouri native pulls his leg off. However, the Deconstruction Dynamo is able to claw his way around to face his own corner where he beckons piteously to Jimmy The Doom. The Doomtopian steps through the ropes and, before Sly realises what Toxxic’s warning gestures mean, beans the American in the back of the head. Sly stumbles forwards, the hold broken, and as Jimmy is shepherded back out of the ring by Brian Warner Fulminatus struggles back up to a vertical base. Sly turns around and lunges for him, but the New Blood Champion leaps and whirls to strike his opponent in the gut with a spinning kick! Austin staggers back and gasps, and Fulminatus follows up with another! “It is really sensible to be using a hurt leg to do that?” Mak asks as the masked wrestler hops on one foot in apparent pain. “Sense? Fulminatus?” King asks in despair. However, Fulminatus must have realised that he could perhaps be handling this better and so unleashes a Mongolian chop at Sly that strikes the bigger man with pinpoint accuracy on the nerves and tendons at the base of his neck, instantly paralysing his arms for future use… at least, that might have been the plan. In actual fact Sly just grunts, heaves in a breath and lunges for the masked wrestler with a nasty clothesline that Fulminatus only just escapes by Matrixing under into a bridge. So Sly lifts up a foot and stamps down on his opponent’s raised ribcage. *BANG!* “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Now that’s what I call effective!” Suicide King applauds as Fulminatus makes like a cockroach (well, apart from releasing pheromones upon his death encouraging other cockroaches to breed) and weakly kicks his legs when Sly raises his boot again. The tag champion drops to make a cover, on the basis that it can’t hurt… ONE! TWO!! …but Fulminatus kicks out! Sly scoops him up off the mat and places the New Blood Champion in a front facelock before towing him over to the Rev-0 corner, where he tags in Toxxic. The Englishman vaults lightly to the top rope and Sly swiftly lifts Fulminatus up before dropping him down over one knee with a pendulum backbreaker. Austin keeps his arm locked over Fulminatus’s throat in a choke that referee Warner starts counting for… then scrambles out of the way as Toxxic comes off the top rope with a Hangover to the Revolution’s unfortunate opponent! “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” Sly smirks at the referee and steps out through the ropes as Fulminatus is crushed down to the mat, and Toxxic follows up by making a cover of his own… ONE! TWO!! …but Fulminatus kicks out again! Toxxic cocks a querying eyebrow and takes control of the masked wrestler before he can wriggle away, drags him up to his feet and Irish whips him into the ropes. Fulninatus rebounds and Toxxic drops to the mat for a drop toehold, but his opponent hurdles his legs, lands beyond him, then without looking behind him Fulminatus performs a backflip and lands on the startled Englishman with a standing moonsault! “YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” ONE! TWO!! …Toxxic gets his breath back and fires a shoulder off the mat, but the fans have come alive and Fulminatus is eager to build on his sudden success so he sits astride Toxxic’s chest and starts delivering a flurry of knife-edge chops down at the bewildered Englishman! *SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMACK!* He can’t get much swing behind them from the mount, allowing Toxxic to grit his teeth, bring both his legs up to smash into Fulminatus’s back and knock the deranged madman off him, then start to scramble up. Fulminatus is a slippery devil however and runs for the ropes, then returns at high speed to deliver a running knee into Toxxic’s head! *CRACK!* “Toxxic could be out!” Mak shouts as the former World Champion collapses from an all-fours position down onto his back, “new champions! New champions!” Fulminatus dives onto the cover with a cackle of glee and Jimmy The Doom enters the ring to head off the vengeful Austin Sly… ONE! TWO!! TH- -but Toxxic kicks out! Doom and Austin start exchanging blows (Austin punching, Jimmy using palm strikes) but Jimmy comes off better as he utilizes his deadly double palm thrust to send Sly stumbling back and falling through the ropes out of the ring. “LET’S GO JIM-MY!” “LET’S GO JIM-MY!” Fulminatus has a hold of Toxxic’s head and Jimmy smacks his own forehead twice, then lowers it invitingly. Fulminatus draws back, then slaps Toxxic’s head forwards into Jimmy’s with a sickening thud! Toxxic staggers, but Jimmy does as well… and then the Englishman whirls round and flattens Fulminatus with a discus clothesline! *WHAM!* “Ha!” King shouts, “he hit it in the end!” “It’s worth remembering that Toxxic uses his head as a weapon just as often as Jimmy The Doom does,” Mak Francis points out as Stephens tries to regain his feet, “but he’s in there on his own at the moment and Jimmy looks to be setting himself for the-” *THUNK!* “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “-Snap Kick!” Mak cries as Doom’s foot takes Toxxic square in the chest and blasts him back into the ropes, from which he rebounds quickly and painfully to land more or less on his face. Jimmy grabs him, hauls him away from the cables and then covers him… …but of course he’s not the legal man, as Brian Warner is quick to remind him. The referee then starts counting, so Jimmy uses what time he has left to haul Fulminatus up, scoop him off the mat and slam him down back-first onto Toxxic before exiting the squared circle at high speed! Warner looks down and figures that with Fulminatus draped across Toxxic that’s technically a cover… ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH- -but Toxxic kicks out again! “THAT WAS THREE!” “THAT WAS THREE!” Fulminatus looks around woozily and realises his situation, then rolls towards Jimmy and reaches up towards the outstretched hand of his tag partner. The tag is quickly made and the Doomtopian steps into the ring with Toxxic in a bad way and Sly still picking himself up on the outside! “LET’S GO JIM-MY!” “LET’S GO JIM-MY!” Toxxic tries to rise to his feet in order to guard against a potential onslaught of the fresh man, but his effort is in vain. He takes a wild swing only to have it blocked and then countered with a headbutt that staggers him. Jimmy wraps both hands around Toxxic’s throat and lifts him in the air, holding him there for a brief second before bringing him crashing back down onto the mat with a sit-out power bomb! “Jimmy Bomb!” Mak squeals, “This could bring an abrupt end to Revolution Zero’s title reign!” “I wouldn’t count on it, Toxxic is much more tough than you give him credit for.” King smirks, “Jimmy may be a Doomtopian, but Toxxic is English. I mean, they start fights and kill each other over soccer matches. That’s way more hardcore.” Jimmy rolls over onto Toxxic for the pin as Warner comes over to make the count… ONE! TWO!! THHH- - but Austin comes diving into the ring and connects with an elbow to the back of Jimmy’s head, breaking up the count. He rolls out of the ring before drawing attention from Warner or Fulminatus. Frustrated, the Doomtopian rises to his feet with his hand latched onto Toxxic’s. Jimmy takes Toxxic’s arm and torques it back with an arm wringer as if setting up for the Doomsday, but as Jimmy goes for his first kick Toxxic shoots beneath his leg and pops back up behind him before pulling him down with a schoolboy pin! Warner once again makes the count… ONE! TWO!! … but Jimmy is able to roll his shoulders off the mat with plenty of time to spare! “You’ve got to admit, that was a pretty good move,” King pries at Mak. “That was a pretty good move by Toxxic, because if Jimmy would’ve hit his Doomsday series of kicks this match would all ready be over!” Jimmy is back to his feet first while Toxxic still lays on the mat. The match seems to be draining him now, he’s been in the ring for quite a while. If he’s going to win this one, he needs to do it soon. How’s he going to do it? Kip-up Enzuigiri!!! … with little effect on Jimmy. Crap. “Shit…” moans King. “I’ve never known someone to be able to take as much punishment to the head and neck as Jimmy can.” “I guess that’s one positive about him, right King?” “Sure, if having a head built like a brick is a positive thing.” Exhausted, Toxxic pushes himself back up and slinks to the corner turnbuckles. He leans against them facing out into the crowd with his back turned to his opponent. Jimmy casually follows him to the corner, thinking this might be his best chance. This is a mistake, though. As he approaches, Toxxic vaults himself to the top rope and launches himself up and over Jimmy, landing soundly on his feet behind him. Toxxic is on top of him before he has a chance to react, locking in a three-quarter face lock as he runs past him, climbing the turnbuckles and flipping back… “Sunny In England!” King yells. “Match over.” … using his sudden adrenaline rush, Toxxic pushes himself quickly on top of his downed opponent. ONE! TWO!! THHH- - Fulminatus comes in to make the save this time, breaking up the pin. In doing so he draws Austin Sly back into the ring who comes charging at him looking to take his head off with a clothesline! Fulminatus ducks it, though, and as Austin spins on his heels to face him he fires back with a clothesline of his own that takes both men up and over the top rope! “Damn that Fulminatus, the match should’ve been over! I call shenanigans!” Both men climb back to their feet, but Toxxic is first to pounce. “He’s going for the Caffeine Bomb! Jimmy can’t let him hit this!” Mak cautions. He is going for the Caffeine Bomb, but as Toxxic goes to hook the leg Jimmy sends a right hand sailing into his gut. Another right hand breaks Toxxic’s will, and then a third soundly breaks the hold. Toxxic tries to stagger back away from his opponent, but Jimmy wont let the limey bastard get away that easily, locking both hands around his neck again! “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “Another Jimmy Bomb should put Toxxic away for good!” … Jimmy lifts Toxxic into the air as the crowd surges in anticipation, and Austin climbs into the ring behind them… “Damnit!” yells King, to no avail. *WHACK!* “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” A chop block can do wonders to stop someone’s momentum. As Jimmy was getting ready to bring Toxxic down to the mat, Austin came in from behind and took his legs right out from under him causing him to fall backwards onto the mat and for the Revolutionary that he was formerly suspending in the air to land squarely on his chest in what resembles a pin. Warner counts it… ONE! TWO!! THHH- -but Jimmy just barely gets his shoulder up! Toxxic climbs back to his feet, hauling the Doomtopian up along with him. He simply slings Jimmy over to Austin before signaling that it’s time to finish this. Sly locks in a front facelock before pulling him up into a vertical suplex - “Jimmy The Doom…” - and then drapping his legs across Toxxic’s shoulders. “… Welcome to the Revolution.” King seethes. Both men roll to their side hitting the same rolling neck breaker that put away Manson and Alexander and nearly took off Johnny Dangerous’ head after their match at Ground Zero. It’s all just mathematical now. Austin fires himself across the ring to cut off Fulminatus before he can make his way through the ropes as Toxxic simply drapes himself across the prone body of Jimmy The Doom. ONE! TWO!! THREE!!! *DING-DING-DING!* “The Winston Churchill Experience gave it their all tonight and it was almost too much for Revolution Zero to handle. If these two meet up again soon, I wouldn’t be surprised if the outcome is reversed.” “Yeah, whatever…” King sighs. “Hopefully these two disappear now.” Both Austin and Toxxic roll out of the ring to collect their belts as Fulminatus is finally allowed to enter the ring to check his partner. There is one final glimpse of the duo in the ring before we switch to a view of Revolution Zero backing up the ramp, belts in hand. We’re left with one question. How many more belts can they hold? Fade.