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The SWF ring crew can finally relax as the shark tank has been assembled and filled with both water, and the aforementioned fish that are necessary to make it a shark tank. Luckily for them, it only took two play-throughs of the Tom Flesher/Michael Stephens hype video, along with one of Wildchild versus Mike Van Siclen. However, all appears to be in order and ready for Jimmy the Doom to face off against the Crimson Skull. Of course, the fans need to actually see where the two men are, but the Smarktron only shows the generic Genesis VII logo. "I think we're just waiting on Doom and Skull to be lead wherever it is exactly the match is to begin, and of course, to get a camera man to them," Mak says as he tries to think of a way to distract the impatient fans. "The thing that pisses me off about this match is that it's got to go the full hour. I mean, can't they have a rule that says anyone that first to the controls wins? I mean, it's not like Jimmy is actually going to retain," King says. "Stranger things have happened, King. Oddly enough, Doom's reign with the Hardcore title has now surpassed Jay Dawg for third longest," Mak points out. "Oh my fucking God, you have got to be shitting me." "Nope, Jimmy the Doom is behind Wildchild and Bruce Blank when it comes to most consecutive days with the Hardcore belt," Mak says. "No, I was just shocked that Jay fucking Dawg held a belt of any kind for that long." Suddenly, the picture on the Smarktron changes from the Genesis logo to a view of a hallway. Gus, intrepid camera man of the Smarks Wrestling Federation, walks down the corridor and hangs a right. He walks into a large room and focuses on the window, showing the shark tank on the ground and Lois the Unethical dangling above it. "It looks like this match is going to start in the rightfield press box," Mak says. "Look, we all know that Skull is going to win, so just wake me up when there's five minutes left," King says. "If you don't want to get paid, sure," Francis says. "Wait, what?" "King, our wages are based on how well we call the match, and if you're asleep for the majority of this match, expect a big chunk missing from your check," Mak explains. "God damn it! Wait a second. If I half-ass it most times, mainly matches lacking Taamo and a few select others, but still get cash practically firehosed at me, then I can afford to barely pay attention right now," King says. Meanwhile, there is activity in the press box, as rap megastar Snow (so long as you're from the time of a week after "Informer" came out) leads a blindfolded Jimmy the Doom into the room. Following behind a blindfolded Crimson Skull, being directed by Martin Hunt. The two men are positionted to face each other, while their escorts quickly leave the room, closing the door behind them. A timer pops up at the bottom of the Smarktron, and An Octopus crawls to the shark tank, headband around its mantle, and eight sweatbands around each tentacle. A loud klaxon sounds (Mostly because klaxon is a cool word), prompting the competitors to rip off their blindfolds. 1:00:00 100'0" "And we are underway in what should be one of the bloodiest fights here tonight!" shouts Mak. "I agree completely, Mak. I'd say the only other match that has a shot at topping the hatred level is Van Siclen versus Wildchild. The hatred there has been brewing for a lot longer, but things escalated quickly between Skull and Jimmy, mainly with Lois being kidnapped," King says. Doom glances at Skull, then notices the window. Jimmy races for it and leaps, smacking into the glass and falling to the floor. ABELIA! "It looks like Doom was trying to just smash through the glass and take the quick way down, but that would have been quite a fall," Mak says. "I think he should try it again," King says. Jimmy scrambles to his feet and gets popped with a big right hand by Skull. The Crimson Skull grabs Doom by the hair and smashes him into the window again, crazing the glass. ABEYANCE! Skull smashes Jimmy into the glass once more, but it only spiderwebs further. The villain drags the Straight-Breader away from the window, leaving a bloody smear, and throws Jimmy towards the double doors. Actually, make that into the double doors. Well, into one of them. ABLATE! "What power displayed by the Crimson Skull! He just threw Jimmy the Doom into that wooden door, and the Hardcore champion's head is stuck!" Mak exclaims. "Now Skull can just wait it out and he'll be the new Hardcore champ," King says. Skull isn't content to simply wait, though, and he throws open the other door, which smacks into a skipping and merry tune humming Sexton Hardcastle, knocking the part-time referee, full-time loser down. The Crimson Skull ignores the fallen dork, picks up a trashcan and slams it into Jimmy's head, dislodging the Doomtopian from the door. ABNEGATE! Doom rolls backwards and gets to his feet. Skull enters the press box, trashcan held aloft, but Jimmy hits him with a dropkick to the shins, sending the super villain tumbling to the floor. Skull slides across the ground and smacks the nearly shattered window with his head, giving Jimmy time to scramble out the door. "And Jimmy is on the move! He's obviously realized that there's no chance he'd survive a trip out the window, so he's going to take the long way down," Mak says. "I think he should get it a shot, at least. If he ends up completely paralyzed, he'll know not to try it again," King says. Skull scrambles to his feet and bursts through the door, hot on Doom's tail, with Gus trying to keep up with the action. Skull rounds a corner and spots Doom waiting impatiently for an elevator to arrive. The doors slide open, and Jimmy leaps in, as does Skull, but Gus is left on the outside. "Damn it! We've lost them!" Mak laments. "We should have security footage, right?" King asks. Indeed we do, King, as a grainy image pops on the Smarktron, showing Doom and Skull swinging wildly in the tiny elevator, which is luckliy devoid of any other people. However, things are cramped, and the elevator walls appear to be taking about as much punishment as Doom or Skull, including the button panel, and soon enough, all floors have been selected. "Where the hell are they going to come out?" Mak wonders. "No clue. I guess Gus will get a work out tonight," King says. The doors snap open on the field level, but an errant elbow smacks the Close Doors button before either man can react, and the elevator travels to the second deck. Jimmy appears to be getting the upperhand due to his hardiness and martial arts training, but Skull erases all of that with a swift knee to the groin. The Crimson Skull smashes Doom's face into the doors once, and goes for a second blow when they slide open at the second level. A devilish grin on his face, Skull slams his hand on the Close Doors button, but Jimmy counters with the Open Doors button. Skull pounds Close a second time, but Jimmy hits Open to save his head. "It looks like we've got a button mashing contest going on, and just like in the match, the stakes are much higher for Jimmy to win," Mak says. "So you say. I bet Skull will be really crushed if he loses this match. Of course, if he wins this little battle in the elevator, Doom will be truly crushed," King says. Jimmy manages to snake his head back inside the elevator and allows Skull to press the Close Doors button, sending the elevator to the upper deck. "That was an insanely stupid move by Jimmy the Doom. He should have just gotten out of the elevator and go to win this match," Mak says. "Well, it is Jimmy the Doom, so it's no surprise he did something dumb," King says. Back in the elevator, Jimmy hems Skull up in a corner with swifty body shots, but the super villain raises his arms for a mighty axhandle. In the process, he smashes the security camera, so it's a mystery if he connected. "Lost them again! We need camera men on each floor by the elevators!" Mak screams, turning into the show's director for a moment. "Those assholes, this is going to kill our ratings," King mutters. "Or, it could boost them, because it will build suspense," Mak offers. "No, that's stupid. My thing is better." As camera men scramble into position, Lois simply flails as she gets closer and closer to the shark tank. Let's see exactly how far away she is. 49:30 82'6" The elevator on the ground level pops open, but it's completely empty. The one on the top deck isn't, though, as the camera man gets a nice shot of the two men brawling before Skull's right hand breaks the lens and the doors shut. "Damn it, this sucks. We don't know what's going on or anything," laments Mak. "That's not true. We know that as long as Jimmy stays in that elevator, Lois the Unethical is closer to getting eaten by some sharks," King points out. "Not so fast, King. An Octopus is there to see about that," Mak says. "Wait a second, fans! While this is a bit unorthodox, I've just gotten word that Ben Hardy is backstage with a somewhat familiar face. Ben, what do you have?" The Smarktron splits into four quadrants, three showing the top, middle, and bottom level elevators, and the fourth displaying Hardy's mug. "Thanks, Mak! I'm here with someone who hasn't been seen in the SWF for well over two years, it's Justin Bowers!" Ben shouts. Bowers steps into frame, looking nothing like the fresh-faced rookie that was mentored by Bill Hearford. "Well, Justin, what exactly are you doing here?" Ben asks, keeping up his reputation for asking the hard-hitting questions. "Revenge, Ben. That's the only thing that drove me to go through with my rehab and get back on my training regimen. To put it simply, I'm here at Genesis to kick Toxxic's ass for breaking my neck two years ago in Oklahoma. From the moment I regained consciousness in that hospital bed, it ate at me that he had gotten away with nearly ending not only my career, but my life! But it's not just him that I'm going after. It's anyone that's broken someone's neck. I'm on a fucking mission to see that those people pay the price! Because while I let my rage simmer, I watched the SWF and saw what JJ Johnson did to Rush Hadrian, another rookie just getting his break, like me, and what Spike Jenkins did to Mak Francis, and once I'm done pounding Toxxic into a quivering mass, I'll be going after Johnson, Jenkins, and anyone else that even tries to break someone's neck. But take solace in this: I'm not going to stoop to your level and break your necks, guys, you're just going to wish I had, because paralysis will seem like a paradise when compared to the pain I'm going to inflict on you little shits," Bowers snarls and walks off. "Strong words from a very angry man," Hardy mumbles, a bit shocked at the outcome of this particular interview. "I like the kid's intentions, I just don't know if he's going about it the right way," Mak says. "He better just hold off on pounding Toxxic until Tom's done taking his belt," King says. Hey, how about we check on Lois' progress to grisly shark death. 40:00 66'8" Finally, the second level elevator snaps open, and Jimmy stumbles out, bloodied up and with a ripped shirt, Skull not much better off as his mask is askew. Doom staggers down the corridor and whips blindly around a corner, slamming into Justin Bowers. Bowers flips forward, his forehead smashing into the floor while the rest of his body continues on, creating a very acute angle. ABROGATE! "Ooh, tough break for Bowers...I totally didn't mean for that to come out the way it did," King says. "Well, maybe a little." "That is very unfortunate for Justin, I hope he's okay," Mak says. Bowers flips over due to the momentum, not of his own volition, and lays rigid on the ground as blood slowly seeps from his mouth, nose and ears. "I'd say no, he's not okay," King says. Jimmy stares at the downed Justin, but can't wait around for help, not with Skull hot on his heels, and takes off down the hall. The Straight-Breader rounds a bend and heads for a door, thinking it leads to the stairwell, but it's actually the men's bathroom. Doom turns around to exit, but the Crimson Skull barrels through the door and knocks Jimmy to the extremely damp floor. Skull pulls Doom off the ground with a choke hold and tosses him into a sink, shattering the porcelain. Skull closes in, but Jimmy reaches out with a drop toe hold, sending the villain's face into the mirror above the broken sink. The Straight-Breader scrambles to his feet, slides behind Skull, and launches him into an open stall with a Jimmy Plex. "That might give Jimmy the Doom the chance to get down here and save his wife!" Mak shouts. "He'll manage that off of one suplex? What combination of pills have you been taking, and what kind of street value do they have?" King asks. Jimmy clambers to his feet, staggers out of the bathroom, and finds the door to the stairs. Gus follows Doom as Gus' cousin Gustav checks in on the Crimson Skull, who's slowly pulling himself up off the floor. Skull grabs the handicap handrail and rips it out before stumbling from the restroom. "Damn it! Now how am I going to crap," Mak laments. "In your pants, like every night when you get drunk!" "Oh, wow, that's a quality diss, King." Gus and Jimmy tramp down the stairs, but Skull uses his villainous mind to formulate a plan that involves taking the elevator. "Who will reach the ground floor first might very well decide this match," Mak says. "Well, if Skull gets there, he's still got to keep Doom from hitting the switch," King points out. Speaking of the switch, let's check to see how soon Doom's got to hit it before Lois the Unethical becomes Lois the Shark Chow. 27:45 46'3" Doom bursts through the door, and Gus, wheezing like a sick cat, is several steps behind. Meanwhile, the elevator doors slide open, and Skull walks out, still holding the handrail from the bathroom. Jimmy hangs a left, while Skull heads to the right, Gus and Gustav keeping up with their respective wrestlers. Jimmy makes another left and brushes past the curtain, entering from left field. Gus decides to hang back, as Jimmy is in full view of the audience now, and the Straight-Bread Sensation begins walking down the ramp. He gets about five feet before getting nailed in the back of the head by Skull. ABSCISA! "And Skull just kissed Jimmy upside the head with that metal handrail!" Mak exclaims. "That's probably the only kiss Jimmy has had in a few weeks. Since, you know, his wife was kidnapped and everything," King says. Jimmy stumbles around, and Skull nails him again. ABSTEMIOUS! The Crimson Skull drops his bent weapon and lifts Jimmy in a military press. Skull walks to the edge of the ramp, looking to drop the Straight-Bread Sensation, but Doom fights back and slips behind the super villain. Jimmy wraps his arms around Skull's head and drops to his knees with a jawbreaker. Doom gets back up, grabs the Crimson Skull, sets him up, and lifts. "Could it be? Is that the Russian Knife?" Mak asks. "I'm not very familiar with that move, but from what I've been told, yes, I think it is," King says. Jimmy's knees buckle from the weight, but he walks to the edge of the ramp and leaps. ACANTHUS! BAM! BAM! BAP-BAP! BOOM! FWOOOSH! BAP! BAM! BOOM! FWOOOOSH! BOOOOM! BAP-BAP-BAP-BAP-BOOOOOM! "Oh my God, what an explosion!" Mak shouts. "They must've landed on the pyrotechnic control board," King points out. "That'll take some time to fix." Technicians run out to check on the board, ignoring the smoking mass that is the Crimson Skull and Jimmy the Doom. Doom rolls off Skull, but gets no further. Lois, though, isn't stopping for anything as she continues her descent to the shark tank. 10:00 16'8" "There isn't much time left. Jimmy's got to act fast!" Mak says. "I think he should just take his time, no point getting a pulled muscle or anything," King says. Slowly, Doom clambers to his feet just as the technicians finish replacing the control panel. Jimmy staggers down to the tank, and thankfully, the sea of fans are parting for an easier trip. 5:00 8'4" Jimmy gets to the panel and slams a fist into the big red stop button. Bzzzt! Ding! Ding! Ding! "Your winner and still Hardcore champion, Jimmy the Doom!" Funyon shouts. Jimmy looks up at Lois, trying to figure out how to get her free as Genesis cuts to a hype video and unpaid, undocumented workers rush to set up the ring.

As Genesis VII returns from its previous segment, the theme music, “O Fortuna”, begins to die down. The Toronto crowd inside the Skydome rises to their feet, waving their signs as lights flash around the ringside area. The television cameras cut down to the two announcers at the ringside area, “The Franchise” Mak Francis and “The King of Hearts” The Suicide King! “Fans, we are live in Toronto, Ontario, Canada for Genesis!” cheers Francis, “Tonight starts the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation’s seventh year and we plan on starting it off with a bang!” “Already tonight, Danny Williams returned and JJ Johnson and ‘The Unique Youth’ Zyon battled in a two out of three falls match!” “We still have the Hardcore Title match, the International Title match, and the main event, the SWF World Cruiserweight Championship on the line against the SWF World Heavyweight Championship! Champion against Champion, as ‘The Superior One’ Tom Flesher defends the Cruiserweight title AND challenges for the World Heavyweight Title, against Michael ‘Toxxic’ Stephens!” “That main event will have a big impact on the next match, as the Number One Contendership to the SWF Cruiserweight Title will be decided between two long-time foes!” “‘The Divine Wind’ Akira Kaibatsu will challenge ‘Hollywood’ Spike Jenkins,” says Francis, “But more is on the line than just a title shot. After the actions from Spike Jenkins last week at the official SWF/SPW Press Conference in Tokyo, Japan…it is now personal!” “That was rather funny, though!” chuckles the Suicide King. “Spike Jenkins flew to Japan, walked into a press conference he wasn’t invited to, started a fight with Akira Kaibatsu and then ATTACKED Akira’s dad, a Japanese wrestling legend, KAZUO Kaibatsu!” “Stop…stop…” Suicide King pleads, “I’m going to start tearing…ha ha!” “Those actions led to Joseph Peters to adding a new stipulation to this match. After the way their last Pay Per View match ended at Ground Zero last month, this match will have no time limit!” “So it can go on all night long?” “Yes, it can!” Suicide King sighs. “Fantastic.” “Not only that, but also at ringside as a special guest…Akira’s father, KAZUO Kaibatsu!” “You mean they finally released him from the hospital after Spike sent him packing?” “I’m sorry, but I don’t see the humor in Spike Jenkins knocking out an almost sixty-year old man.” “I do.” Mak places one hand over his face as he shakes his head in a mixture of disappointment and annoyance. The camera cuts to the middle of the ring, where Funyon stands with high “pimping” suit on. Funyon stands proudly as the Canadian crowd begins to quiet down. “Ladies and Gentleman, the following contest is scheduled for one fall with NO TIME LIMIT and is for the Number One Contendership to the SWF Cruiserweight Championship!” Funyon pauses as the crowd gives a small pop. “First, making his way to the ring…” Every light in the arena goes to full power as the Smarktron whites out. For a moment the only sound is that of a needle scratching over vinyl... And then *BAM* The heavy drumming of Norma Jean’s “Creating Something Out of Nothing, Only to Destroy It” blasts through the arena as the lyrics pierce the ears of everyone listening. “Like bringing a knife to a gun fight… Like Bringing A Knife To A Gun Fight… LIKE BRINGING A KNIFE TO A GUN FIGHT!” Bright white lights begin flashing at the entranceway. As the growls hit the crowd, Spike walks out wearing a black “NORA” hoodie, the hood covering most of his face. Spike drops down to one knee, leaving one arm to hang to the ground, while the other is firmly placed on his knee. After a few moments, Spike raises both arms into an “X”, symbolizing his Straight Edge life style. Spike rises to his feet and begins to make his way down the isle towards the ring. “Coming to the ring at this time…weighing in at a total of Two Hundred and Twenty pounds…hailing from Hollywood, California and representing the Kingdom of Cambodia…he is a former two-time SWF Cruiserweight Champion, a former SWF Hardcore Champion, and a former two-time SWF World Tag Team Champion…he is ‘HOLLYWOOD’ SPIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKE JEEEEEEEEEEEEEENKINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNSSSSSSSSSS!!!” Spike makes his way completely around the ring. He walks past Akira’s father, grinning at the old man who stares straight at the New Straight Edge Sensation. Spike rolls underneath the bottom rope. He continues rolling until he hits dead center in the middle of the ring. Spike rises to one knee and resumes the position he was in at the top of the entranceway. One arm hanging to the ground, the other placed on his knee. Finally, Spike rises to his feet. He quickly peels off the hood, releasing his blonde, dyed hair free. He puts his arms together, forming an “X” across his chest, again promoting his Straight Edge life style. “Spike Jenkins is really the lowest kind of life form in existence!” Mak stammers, “I really hope he gets what is coming towards him tonight!” “I hope he pulls out the victory. I would love to see a rematch between Spike Jenkins and Tom Flesher from last years Genesis!” “I think you’re the only person who saw that match, King…” “Everyone saw it. Clear as day.” “AND HIS OPPONENT!” booms Funyon. “WU-TANG CLAN COMIN’ ATCHA!” “Protect Ya Neck” by the Wu-Tang Clan hits and through the curtains comes “The Divine Wind” Akira Kaibatsu, to a gargantuan cheer from inside the Skydome. Kaibatsu walks down the isle, focusing on his opponent in the ring. “Coming to the ring at this time…weighing in at a total of One Hundred and Ninety-five pounds…hailing from Sendai, Japan…he is a former SWF Cruiserweight Champion and a former SWF World Tag Team Champion…he is “THE DIVINE WIND’ AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKIRAAAAAAAA KAIBATSUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!” Akira walks around ringside, stopping over by his father. His father (and the fans sitting around him) gives him a supportive slap on the back as he steps towards the ring. Climbing up onto the ring apron, he steps in through the middle and top rope into the ring. Standing in his corner across from his opposition, Akira holds his arms in the air to the pleasure of the crowd. “Akira Kaibatsu is not only fighting for a rematch against the Cruiserweight Champion, but also for family honor. Spike Jenkins came into his home country and disrespect his family name and legacy. I can only imagine what that young man is feeling as he steps into the ring tonight.” “Can’t you see that is what he wants?” questions the Suicide King, “This is Genesis! The biggest show of them all! Spike wanted to make sure that his mind was somewhere else! He is trying to mentally and emotionally break Akira down!” “It may very well be possible that that is what he is doing, King.” Referee Ronnie Strong checks with both men to see if they are ready. They both nod and Strong calls for the bell as this match is underway at Genesis VII! *Ding Ding Ding* Both men stomp out of their respected corner into the center of the ring. Standing almost eye-to-eye, with Jenkins having the height advantage. Spike immediately begins the trash talking, running down Akira and his family. Akira just stands there, steaming with anger. Suddenly, without warning, Spike takes a step back…and slaps Akira across the face! “How disrespectful can this man be?” shouts Mak. Akira’s face turns bright red. He gently touches his face, feeling the sting of the slap. Looking right into the face of Spike Jenkins, Akira winds up and responds with a stiff right punch to the jaw! Spike stumbles back, unable to defend him as Akira sends two more right hands that knock the Hollywood Superstar back into the ropes. Spike stands there stunned as Akira continues bombarding him with right hands. Jenkins finally collapses to the mat. Akira follows up with stomps to the shoulder and back as Spike rolls out of the ring underneath the bottom rope! “He’s barraging Spike! That is unfair!” “You didn’t think this match would start off with the typical Spike Jenkins-chain wrestling fest, did you, King? Not after what Spike has done to Akira’s family.” Spike stands on his feet outside the ring, pacing around as he tries to clear the cobwebs from his head. He turns back, ready to enter the ring…but is met by Akira! Akira fires off another right hand that sends Jenkins back into the guardrail. Grabbing him by his hair, Akira drags Spike towards the ring. Akira pulls back on Spike’s hair and slams his face into the ring apron! Grabbing him by his hair and the back of his shorts, Akira rolls Spike into the ring underneath the bottom rope! “Akira Kaibatsu is not wasting any time in this match!” “A lot is on the line, Francis. Family honor, respect from his countrymen…and greed.” Spike rolls into the middle of the ring, rising to his hands and knees as he turns towards Akira, who slides in after him. Spike jumps to his feet, still woozy from the attack…but is taken back to the ground as Akira double legs him to the mat! Getting into mount position over Jenkins, Akira begins to drive down the strikes onto the prone Spike! “Akira is going through a mad rage!” Throwing lefts and rights at the Hollywood Superstar, Akira has lost all sense of his surroundings. Fearing for his life, Spike waits for Akira in mid-swing to sway his hips and tip the smaller cruiserweight wrestler off of him. Spike rolls over onto his stomach and starts crawling towards the ropes to escape the wrath of the tiny Junior Heavyweight. Akira attempts to jump onto Spike, but Jenkins bails out of the ring once again. “Spike trying to get as far away as possible from the angry Akira Kaibatsu!” Spike paces around the ringside area, looking back as Akira slides out of the ring and follows him. Jumping underneath the bottom rope and back into the ring, Spike gets to his feet…waiting for Akira to follow. Akira goes to slide into the ring behind him, but notices Spike dive at him, attempting to drive his elbow into the back of Akira’s head…so Akira simply slides back out of the ring, leaving Spike to throw himself onto the mat! King sighs as he shakes his head in disappointment. “Very nice, Spike…” The crowd cheers as Spike rolls around in pain, holding his side. He crawls into the middle of the ring, standing up to his feet. Akira slides into the ring and quickly rushes towards Jenkins. Smashing him in the face with a right hand, Akira shoves him back into the ropes. Grabbing his opponent by the wrist, Akira Irish whips Jenkins, sending him into the opposite ropes. Bouncing off the ropes, Spike comes charging back to the awaiting Akira. Underhooking Spike’s arm, Akira flips the King of Cambodia through the air and slamming him to the mat with a hip toss! “Big hip toss by the Divine Wind!” Spike hits the mat hard. He clutches his back as he rolls towards the corner. Akira follows in suit as his opponent uses the ropes to pull himself up to his feet. Akira connects with another right hand to the jaw, temporarily stunning Jenkins. Grabbing him by the wrist, Akira Irish whips him towards the opposite corner…but Spike reverses and sends the Divine Wind towards the corner. Spike charges behind Akira as the young Japanese superstar heads into the corner…but before crashing into the turnbuckles, Akira grabs the top rope and propels him into the air. Spike charges straight into the corner as Akira leap frogs over him! Running chest first into the corner, Spike turns around and blindly charges at Kaibatsu, who ducks down and flips his opponent over with a back body drop! “HUGE backdrop by Akira!” “Damn it, Spike! What are you doing?” Spike rolls over onto his feet, holding his back in pain. Akira waits for Spike to be fully arising before leaping into the air and connecting with a big standing dropkick to the chest that sends Spike back to the mat! Hitting the mat, Jenkins quickly rolls towards the ropes and back out to the floor! Akira climbs to his feet and follows Jenkins out of the ring. Spike stumbles around the ringside area, moving as fast as he can away from Akira. He slides into the ring underneath the bottom rope, trying to catch his breath as he stands on his hands and knees. Akira shoots up to the ring apron and steps through the middle and top rope into the ring…but is unable to defend himself as Spike catapults himself through the air, driving his shoulder into the kneecap of Akira and knocking him face first to the ground! “What a cheap shot!” cries Mak Francis unjustly. “It wasn’t a cheap shot, Mak,” King begins, “Spike saw an opening and went for it. Nothing cheap about it.” Spike immediately jumps up to his feet and begins stomping away at the back of Akira’s head. The audience lets their voices be heard as they fill the Skydome with jeers for the King of Cambodia. “The crowd is starting to get vocal as Jenkins tears away at Akira.” Spike climbs to his feet and walks over towards Akira. Reaching down, grabbing the youngster by the back of his head, he pulls The Divine Wind up to his feet. Pushing him back into the ropes, Spike grabs him by the wrist and Irish whips him across the ring…but Akira reverses it and sends Spike into the ropes! Jenkins bounces off the ropes and charges back towards the awaiting Akira…and drives his shoulder into the smaller cruiserweights, sending Kaibatsu to the mat! “HARD shoulder tackle by the former Cruiserweight Champion!” “You’re such a mark for this guy, King!” Spike charges into the parallel ropes, bouncing off of them and bolts back towards Akira, who rolls over onto his stomach, forcing Spike to leap over him and continue into the ropes. Jenkins hits the ropes and bounces off of them, speeding towards Akira who leaps frogs over Jenkins. Akira lands on his feet and quickly turns around, expecting to catch Jenkins coming off the ropes…but Spike stopped right behind him after the leap frog and catches Akira with a hard back kick to the gut! Kaibatsu kneels over as Spike pulls him into a front face lock. Under hooking one arm, Spike grabs Akira by the tights and flips him over with a snap suplex! Spike floats over into a cover, driving his forearm into the face of Akira! ONE! TWO!! NO---Akira gets a shoulder up! Spike sits up, complaining to the referee that it was a three count. “Spike Jenkins wasting time! Unbelievable! This coming from a man who says he knows how to control the ring and his opponent!” cries Mak Francis. “Mak…it’s professional wrestling…not rocket science.” Spike climbs to his feet. Reaching down, grabbing the youngster by the back of his head, he pulls The Divine Wind up into a sitting position. Taking a few steps back, Jenkins lines up directly behind Akira…and shoots forward, kicking him across the back with a stiff shot! Spike grabs Akira by the neck and pulls him up to his feet. Akira drives his elbow into the gut of Jenkins, trying to get away…but Spike simply slams his forearm into the back, sending a jolt of pain throughout the Divine Wind’s body. Wrapping his hands around the neck of Kaibatsu, Spike wrenches at the neck with a cravate! But instead of keeping the submission locked in, Spike flips Akira over into a sitting position with a snap mare! With Akira in a sitting position, Spike rolls forward, popping up to his feet in front of Akira. He quickly jumps back, driving his elbow into the face of the Japanese Light Heavyweight! Kaibatsu stomps his feet on the mat in anguish. Spike pushes him onto his back and covers him! ONE! TWO!! NO---Akira gets a shoulder up! “Close fall for Jenkins!” Spike climbs to his feet, visibly disappointed at the kick out. Grabbing his smaller opponent by the back of the head, he pulls him up to his feet. Pushing him back into the ropes, Spike grabs him by the wrist and Irish whips him across the ring…but Akira reverses it and sends Spike into the ropes! Jenkins bounces off the ropes and charges back towards the awaiting Akira…and drives his shoulder into the smaller cruiserweights, sending Kaibatsu to the mat! “Another shoulder tackle by Jenkins!” Spike charges into the parallel ropes, bouncing off of them and bolts back towards Akira, who rolls over onto his stomach, forcing Spike to leap over him and continue into the ropes. Jenkins hits the ropes and bounces off of them, speeding towards Akira who leaps frogs over Jenkins. Akira lands on his feet with Spike standing behind him…but instead of like last time, charges forward into the ropes. Jenkins turns towards Akira, who leaps onto the middle rope and springboards back…turning in mid-air…and connecting with a flying body press! “Springboard cross body by Kaibatsu! He’s got the cover!” ONE!!!!! TWO!!!! “Akira with the flash cover!” THRE---NO! SPIKE PUSHES AKIRA OFF OF HIM! “Akira Kaibatsu almost becoming the Number One Contender to the Cruiserweight Title here at Genesis!” Akira quickly jumps to his feet, waiting for Spike to scurry up as well. Jenkins gets to his feet, turns around, and blindly charges at Akira…who flips him over with an arm drag takeover! Spike hits the mat hard and pops up to his feet. He turns around and again blindly charges into another arm drag! Spike rolls over onto his feet, clutching his back, as Akira leaps into the air and connects with a dropkick to the jaw…that knocked Jenkins backwards through the middle and top rope down to the floor! “YEAAHHHHHH!!!!” “Fast paced action by these two former Cruiserweight Champions,” says Mak. Akira poses in the ring for the Canadian fans, as Spike Jenkins staggers around the ringside area, holding his jaw. “Spike Jenkins is a decently fast competitor, but Akira just has him beat in that category!” Spike walks towards the ring…but Akira stands by the ropes waiting for him. He pulls back on the top rope and slingshots himself over the top rope…but as he is in the air, Spike rolls into the ring! …But Akira lands on his feet on the ring apron! “Spike doesn’t know that Akira landed on the ring apron!” Spike gets to his feet, grinning at the Canadian crowd. He turns around, expecting to look at the fallen body of Kaibatsu… …But instead gets met with a springboard cross body…NO! Spike catches a mid-air Akira Kaibatsu! With Akira in his arms, Spike carries the youngster over towards the corner. Stretching out the muscles in his upper back and his biceps, Jenkins lifts Akira up into the air over his head with a military press. Displaying his (amazing) power (on somebody much smaller than him), JENKINS TOSSES AKIRA BACK FIRST INTO THE TURNBUCKLES, CAUSING THE JAPANESE SENSATION TO CRASH INTO THE CORNER AND COLLAPSE TO THE MAT ON TOP OF HIS HEAD! “Holy shit!” cries The Suicide King. “Spike Jenkins has been watching video tapes,” notes Mak Francis, “In their match on Lockdown several weeks ago, Akira went for a springboard dropkick…but this time, Spike caught him in mid-air and hits a BIG impact maneuver!” “Why are you still talking?” asks the Suicide King, “Did you just see that?” Spike cockily grins as he cascades over towards Akira. Looking at the ringside area where Akira’s father, KAZUO Kaibatsu sits, Spike grabs Akira by the back of his hair and pulls him up to his feet. Spike lifts the light one hundred and ninety-five pounder up into the air and over his shoulder. Giving his opponents’ father an assholish thumb up, Spike rushes towards the middle of the ring. Turning towards the mat, Spike drives Akira back first into the unforgiving canvas with a running powerslam! “Running powerslam,” says Mak Francis, “British Bulldog style!” Jenkins covers Akira, hooking the leg! ONE! TWO!! NO---Akira kicks out! Spike sits up and shouts at referee Ronnie Strong. “Spike Jenkins is starting to look a little winded, King.” “He isn’t winded. His cardio is excellent because of his straight edge lifestyle!” “Maybe he should bring more hardcore goodness to the gym?” “People like Spike Jenkins don’t need to go to the gym!” protests The Suicide King, “They are natural athletes!” “This natural athlete needs to put down the Dr. Pepper and run some laps.” “You’re an asshole.” “You’re a prick.” “Yeah…but you’re in a wheel chair.” Spike sits up, hands on his hips as he looks around at the Canadian crowd, whom give off an obvious negative energy. The crowd begins to stomp their feet and clap their hands… “LETS GO AKIRA! LETS GO! LETS GO AKIRA! LETS GO!” The Hollywood Superstar ignores the crowd as he grabs Akira by his neck and drags him to his feet. Kneeling him over, he pulls the Japanese Sensation into a standing head scissors. Holding his arms out to the side, Spike signals for The Ratings Crash! “The Ratings Crash! If he hits this, the match will be over and we will have a new Number One Contender!” Spike grabs his opponent around the waist and lifts him straight up into the air, holding him upside down for a piledriver. Akira hangs upside down, his arms flailing as Spike tries to hook his legs over them. As Akira regains his thoughts, he violently fights to keep his arms from being hooked. Thinking of the only way to defend him other than swinging around, Kaibatsu uses his right leg to smack Jenkins in the side of the head! And does it a second time! Jenkins wobbles around and tips over forward, nearly dropping Akira…but the King of Cambodia quickly restrains himself. Dropping Akira just a bit, Spike pivots his hips and dead lifts the cruiserweight into the air and up onto his shoulders for a powerbomb! “Spike couldn’t get the Ratings Crash…but he may have a powerbomb!” “Akira has much of a chance of winning this as the Mets have of clinching the division…” “Ummm…” Kaibatsu, now finding himself to be in quite the predicament, sits on top of Jenkins shoulders. Moving his weight around so not to be driven into the mat, Akira beings pounding away at the forehead of his opposition, sending him stumbling backwards. Akira, keeping his legs wrapped around the neck of Spike’s, flips backwards, pulling Spike into the air AND DRIVING HIM HEAD FIRST INTO THE MAT WITH A HURRICANRANA!!! Members of the crowd jump to their feet, including Akira’s father, as Akira lands on top of Jenkins. Akira grabs both of Spikes legs and pulls them over into a cradle for the cover! ONE!!!!! TWO!!!!!!! THREEE-------NOOOOOOOOOO!!!! SPIKE JENKINS KICKS OUT!!! “Spike Jenkins kicks out of the spike hurricanrana!” “Where the hell did that come from?” cries the Suicide King. “The Mets won the clinch…” “I need to start watching more television.” Jenkins kicks out, pushing his legs up and popping his head out behind Akira. He lays face first on the mat, trying to catch his breath. Akira climbs up to his feet, looks around at the crowd and begins shaking his fist as the energy inside the Skydome begins to rise. “The crowd is starting to feel it as they get behind Akira Kaibatsu!” “What is it?” asks the King. “It is what is going to beat Spike Jenkins and allow Akira to gain revenge for his family!” “Damn it.” “Always with the bad puns…” Spike crawls to his feet, holding his neck as he turns towards his opponent. Akira charges towards Spike. Spike goes for a blind clothesline, but Akira sees it coming. He hooks his arms around the arm of Jenkins and leaps onto his back, attempting a crucifix! “The crucifix bomb! The same move that Akira used to defeat Spike Jenkins with during the extra five minutes at Ground Zero!” Akira hangs on the back of Spike, attempting to flip him backwards onto the back of his head with the crucifix bomb…but Spike knows what will happen if he gets hit with it. Spike keeps his feet on the mat, standing guard as he tries to power lift Akira onto his shoulders…finally succeeding after several seconds. With Akira on his shoulders in a Death Valley Driver position, Spike struggles over towards the ropes with the Divine Wind fighting on his shoulders. Making it towards the ropes, he spins Akira to the side, the smaller cruiserweights legs landing on the top rope. “He’s going for the Greetings from Cambodia!” “The same move that won him the rematch on Lockdown! This is exactly how it played out!” With Akira’s legs hanging off the top rope and his throat draped over the shoulder of Jenkins, Spike pulls him out towards the middle of the ring as far as he can without letting the former masked superstar fall off of the top rope. After getting as far as he can, Jenkins holds onto the throat of Kaibatsu…but Akira fights back! He begins to struggle on the rope as Spike tries to hold on…but the Japanese Sensation has too much damn heart! “Akira is fighting out of the Greetings from Cambodia!” shouts Francis. Akira wildly throws punches at Spike’s chest, sending shockwaves through his body. Keeping his feet balanced on the top rope, Akira begins pulling Spike back towards the ropes. He slides his body over the top rope and onto the apron as he drags the former Cruiserweight champion towards him. Akira plants his feet on the middle ropes as he pulls Jenkins towards him. When close enough, he wraps his arm around Spike’s throat and wraps his legs around his waist…LOCKING HIM IN A TARANTULA-STYLE DRAGON SLEEPER IN THE ROPES!!!! “Dragon Sleeper in the ropes!” “Reminiscent of their Pure Rules match for the SWF Cruiserweight Title several months back!” “What the hell…how do you remember all this stuff?” “It’s my job, King.” “I thought it was because you have nothing else to do during the off-season for Murder Ball.” “All because I’m in a wheel chair doesn’t mean I play Murder Ball…” “MURDER BALL!” shouts the Suicide King as he cuts off the paraplegic announcer. Akira hangs in the ropes as Spike is bent over the top rope, being choked out. KAZUO Kaibatsu stands up and shouts words of encouragement to his son as he chokes the life out of the man that sucker punched him. Referee Ronnie Strong shouts at Akira and begins to count out the Divine Wind if he doesn’t release the hold! ONE!! TWO!! THREE!! FOUR!!! FIV---And at the last second, Akira releases Jenkins. Spike stumbles forward, falling to his knees as he tries to catch his breath. Akira repositions himself on the apron, holding onto the top rope as he waits for his opponent to get to his feet. “Akira Kaibatsu looks ready to be setting up something big!” “Hopefully its to learn how not to be a disgrace to his family name!” Spike climbs up to his feet and turns towards the direction Akira is in. Akira, holding onto the top rope, uses them to slingshot himself up to the top rope. From there, he leaps off, springboarding into the ring, as he attempts to wrap his legs around Spike Jenkins’ neck for a hurricanrana. Attempting to take him over again and get the pin fall with another head-spiking hurricanrana…but Spike catches him in midair… …AND PLANTS HIM HEAD FIRST INTO THE MAT WITH A POWERBOMB! “POWERBOMB! POWERBOMB!” shouts Francis hysterically. Folding Akira over on his neck, Spike holds his legs down as he cradles him with a Jackknife pin! ONE!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!! THREE---------NO!!!! AKIRA KICKS OUT! THE CROWD JUMPS TO THEIR FEET AND CHEERS AS AKIRA KICKS OUT!!! “He dropped Akira right on his head! How did he kick out?” “Heart, King. Heart.” “No, I think it had something to do with him not being fully unconscious…” “It was a metaphor…” Spike stands up, sliding his hands through his hair as he stares at the ceiling in amazement. Wiping the sweat from his eyes, he reaches down, grabbing Akira by the neck and dragging the one hundred and ninety-five pounds of dead weight up to his feet. Slipping behind him, Spike under hooks one of his arms underneath Akira’s, placing his hand behind the Divine Wind’s neck. Using his free hand and grabbing Kaibatsu by the trunks, he lifts him into the air…and drives him down back first across the knee with a Half-Nelson Backbreaker! Akira slips off of his knee and flops around on the canvas like a fish. Spike drops to both knees, turns Akira over onto his back and holds him down for the cover! ONE!!! TWO!!! THR---NO! AKIRA GETS A SHOULDER UP! “Akira is refusing to give up here tonight…in front of his father…in front of his family!” Spike immediately gets to his feet and in the face of Referee Ronnie Strong. Spike shoves him back, shouting about how that was a three count. Ronnie shouts at Spike that it was a two count, leaving the Hollywood Superstar enraged as he turns back towards Akira. Kaibatsu turns over onto his stomach and tries to crawl towards the corner, but Spike follows him. Stepping in front of him, Spike places his foot on top of Akira’s hand, crushing it against the canvas. Akira shouts in pain as Spike mocks the youngster, pointing over at his father in the front row. KAZUO stands up from his seat; shouting in Japanese and slamming his fists against the ring barrier as he watches his son get dismantled in the ring. “Spike Jenkins has no remorse whatsoever for the Kaibatsu family.” “Why should he? They yell stuff at him in Japanese! Do you know what its like to be yelled at in another language…a language you don’t understand?” “…You do realize Spike flew to Japan, interrupted a big press conference and then punched a near sixty-year old man, right?” Spike removes his foot, releasing Akira’s hand. He grabs the youngster by the back of his hair and drags him up to his feet and over towards the corner. Slipping behind him, Spike hammers him in the back with a forearm. Hooking him by his tights, Jenkins lifts the cruiserweight up into the air and placing him on the middle rope, causing the youngster to lean over the top turnbuckle. Jenkins steps through the middle and top rope out onto the ring apron and begin to climb up to the top rope. “I think Spike is looking to end the match right now!” “You are a very wise man, do you know that, Mak?” chuckles the Suicide King, “Just kidding.” Spike steps up to the top rope with one leg and looks around the crowd. With his thumb, he cuts across his throat signaling the end of Akira Kaibatsu…and points down with an evil grin at his father, KAZUO Kaibatsu. Stepping up onto the top rope and with Akira standing on the middle rope facing him, Spike pulls him into a standing head scissors. He under hooks the former Cruiserweight champions’ arms and looks around with a big grin on his face. “Can he be?” questions Mak Francis, “A top rope Endwell? The same move that he used to defeat Tom Flesher at last years Genesis?” “Defeat Tom Flesher? The current SWF Cruiserweight Champion? The man fighting Michael Stephens in the main event for the SWF World Heavyweight Title? The man that could potentially face Spike Jenkins?” “Yeah, him.” “He’s awesome, isn’t he?” With both arms under hooked, Jenkins attempts to pull Akira up off the ropes and down to the mat… …But the youngster fights it! The crowd begins buzzing again as Spike tries again, but again Akira refuses to budge. Using all of his upper body strength, the Divine Wind breaks his arms free from Jenkins! Lifting his head up, Akira attempts to back body drop the Hollywood Superstar off of the top rope… …But Spike quickly hammers out three forearms to the back in succession, stopping the former Cruiserweight and Tag Team Champion. “Akira almost countering out of the Endwell…but Jenkins refuses to go over!” “Both men must really want a shot at losing to Tom Flesher.” “Tom still has to defeat Michael Stephens tonight, King.” “Oh come on, we all know how that match will end.” “AKIRA! AKIRA! AKIRA! AKIRA!” “The crowd is getting behind Akira Kaibatsu as both men battle it out on the top rope!” Spike jockeys for position back on the top rope and regains control. Driving another forearm into the solar plexus of the Divine Wind, he drives an open palm shot right into his opponents face. Akira stumbles back, grabbing onto the top rope so not to fall off. He regains his balance, looks up and smacks Spike across the face! Spike stumbles back, almost falling off the top rope to the floor…but regains his balance as well and smacks Akira once again across the face! Again, Akira falls back, but barely holds onto the top rope to keep from falling to the mat. Pulling himself back up, he looks up at Spike who begins to raise his fist up to strike him again… …BUT AKIRA BLOCKS IT! AND CONNECTS WITH HIS OWN RIGHT HAND! “Akira is fighting back!” shouts an ecstatic Mak Francis. Akira connects with another hard right hand to the jaw, nearly knocking Jenkins off the top rope and to the floor. With Spike in a daze, Akira grabs him by the hair and drives his forearm into his opponents’ chest with a HUGE European uppercut! With Spike teetering on the top rope, Akira regains his balance and climbs up to the top rope with his opponent!! “Both men are now standing on the top rope! This won’t end good for either of them!” “It’ll probably end good for one of them…unless they both kill each other in the process.” Mak looks at King blankly and then back towards the camera. “I repeat, this will not end good for either of them!” Akira punches Spike in the gut, kneeling him over as they both keep their footing on the top rope. Kaibatsu wraps his arm around Jenkins’ neck, holding him in a front face lock. He hooks one arm and sets up for a Superplex! “Akira Kaibatsu going for a superplex!” shouts Mak Francis, “One big maneuver and this match could be over!” Akira grabs Spike by the tights. The crowd rises to their feet, buzzing with excitement. Camera’s go off around the arena as the Canadian crowd takes pictures at this feat. The Divine Wind attempts to lift Spike into the air and suplex him to the mat…but Jenkins smacks Akira in the gut, stopping him from completing his attended task. Spike cracks him several more times in the ribs, forcing Kaibatsu to break the front face lock. With both men standing on the top rope, Jenkins pushes his opponents’ head down and holding him in a standing head scissors. “Oh no!” “This is going to be good!” laughs the Suicide King. Everyone in the crowd rises to their feet, most importantly the Kaibatsu family as they watch on. Spike wraps his arms tight around the waist of Akira. With one quick motion, he pivots his hips and lifts the Divine Wind up into the air and onto his shoulders for a powerbomb! “OH NO!” “OH YES!” The Skydome lights up with camera bulbs going off. With Akira Kaibatsu on his shoulders, Spike Jenkins prepares to leap off the top rope at the grandest stage of them all, Genesis, and powerbomb his opponent all the way down to the canvas. Spike gets his footing as he prepares to leap off… …But something is wrong… …Very wrong… …As Akira Kaibatsu positions his weight differently… …AND FLIPS BACKWARDS… …SUPER-RANAING SPIKE JENKINS OFF OF THE TOP ROPE… …BUT SPIKE HOLDS ONTO AKIRA… …AND BOTH MEN MAKE ANOTHER ROTATION IN MID-AIR… …AS THE SKYDOME LIGHTS UP, BOTH MEN COLLAPSE TO THE MAT… …AS SPIKE JENKINS REVERSED THE RANA INTO A SITOUT POWERBOMB!!!!! “OH MY GOD!” shrieks Mak Francis. “WOW!” cries a wide-eyed Suicide King. “HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!” “I DON’T BELIEVE WHAT I JUST SAW!” Akira Kaibatsu lays unconscious on the mat. Spike Jenkins grimaces in pain; as he is still hooked to Akira, holding him down with a sunset flip. Spike drapes an arm over the chest of Akira. Referee Ronnie Strong jumps into position to make the count! ONE!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!! THREE!!!!!!!!!!!!! *Ding Ding Ding* “It’s over!” cries The Suicide King, “Spike Jenkins is the Number One Contender!” Spike lies back, almost hitting his head on the bottom turnbuckle. Referee Ronnie Strong charges over towards him, raising his hand in the air as “Creating Something Out of Nothing, Only to Destroy It” starts up once again. The Skydome fills up with jeers, but some members (Heel Section~!) do applaud. Jenkins uses his leg to roll Akira’s body away from him. He rolls out of the ring slowly, clutching onto his back. “I have to say…Spike Jenkins earned that victory,” says King, “What do you think, Mak?” “Well, the ending to that match was intense…but I will never support Spike Jenkins!” “Hey, at least maybe you’ll make a new friend out of this. Looks like Akira will need a wheel chair, as well! Ha!” Jenkins stumbles around the ringside area, his hand raised in victory. Walking past the booing fans in the front row, he makes a special note to stop in front of KAZUO Kaibatsu. Looking the Japanese legend in the eye, Spike just grins as he walks away. KAZUO looks more concerned with his son in the ring…and doesn’t notice when Spike turns around and spits on him! KAZUO turns towards Jenkins and tries to jump over the guardrail, but security rush to the scene to hold him back. “Are you serious? Even after all that, he still disrespects the Kaibatsu family!” “What does he care? He has what he wanted! The number one contendership to the Cruiserweight Title and a guaranteed match against the SWF World Heavyweight Champion!” “This match and the main event of the evening are two important matches…which will lead to a very important match between either Spike and Michael Stephens…or Spike and Tom Flesher!” “Either way, Mak. I’m excited!” Spike continues walking up the ramp towards the locker room, his arms raised in victory. Staring into the ring at his fallen opponent, Spike only thinks of one thing. “One down, one to go.”

Francis: The time of Danny Williams’ open challenge is upon us! Who will step up and face the legend in this once in a lifetime opportunity!? Rumors are running wild but nothing has been confirmed, it could literally be anybody. King: Who cares? Williams is a chronically injured has-been two years removed from the limelight, his return is nothing but a desperate cry for attention. Francis: Having been both a friend and rival of Danny Williams for years, I can say that is most certainly not the case. He is perhaps the most passionate athlete I’ve ever stepped in the ring with, his love for the sport is only surpassed by his love for the fans. From behind the heavy curtains of the locker room, Williams eagerly listens to the boastful Funyon announce his arrival for the first time in nearly a year. Unable to fight his curiosity any longer, he stealthily steals a peek outside. The northern sky is a portrait of swirling dark blue clouds as the sun slowly descends somewhere in the horizon. Bright white lights shine down upon the stadium with the warmth and light of a late afternoon sun. A cool breeze can be felt blowing through the hollow valley of the arena but it’s not enough to dull the heat of the house lights. The sheer size of the bowl shaped arena is overwhelming as Williams struggles to recall seeing a larger crowd in not only his career but his entire life. “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a special challenge match.” An eerie silence befalls the arena. Speaking progressively louder, Funyon continues “And now a man who needs no introduction, a man who has held titles all around the world, a man who revolutionized wrestling as we know it, the four time SWF Heavyweight Champion of the World, the legendary Danny Williamsssssssss!!!!” On that over the top cue, Williams pushes the curtains aside and blindly marches out on to the larger than life Genesis’ stage. The scene is bedlam as he finds himself greeted by an endless sea of raging, screaming, cheering fans. As far as he can see, there are people madly hoping up and down in unison. From the balconies to the floor, there isn’t a person going nuts. He can’t even hear his classic theme music as the voice of the crowd reaches dangerous, sonic boom, high octave levels of destruction. Trying his best not be overwhelmed by the beyond epic greeting, Williams purposely marches down the aisle, passing rabid fan after rabid fan. Francis: To hear these fans you would think he retired yesterday. King: Williams is a numb skull and people can relate to that. If there was any justice, brilliant wrestlers like my self would be the idol of millions. Francis: Williams is beloved because of the heart and courage he brought to the ring night in and night out, heroic characteristics you never came close to having. King: And all that got him was an early retirement from full time wrestling at 23. Live fast and die young, the motto of a moron. Francis: Why don’t you accept his challenge if you hate him so much? King: Because if I got into the ring there wouldn’t be anybody intelligent enough to carry this broadcast. Duh! Why don’t you? Francis: Facing Williams I learned that the will it takes to..... King: In other words, you’re too scared. Francis: Yes but at least I can admit it. Making his way into the ring, Williams sees flashes of camera light sporadically explode all over the place. Appearing very happy to see Williams for the first time in nearly a year, the sharp looking Funyon immediately throws out his hand. Accepting the handshake, Williams shares a laugh with the classiest man in the sport. Giving up the mic, Funyon makes his typical slick exit; leaving the ring to the man of the hour. Knocking his flowing dark bangs out of his fierce blue eyes, Williams takes in the scene, approvingly nodding at his dedicated legions of fans. He sees countless signs simply bearing his name in black and white letters, a perfect compliment to his famous nonsense attitude. Bringing the mic to his chin, he tries to speak but the fans won’t let him. A chant of “Dan-e! Dan-e! Dan-e!” kicks into overdrive. Williams tries to wait it out but it just keeps getting stronger and stronger. Impressed, he takes a stroll around the ring, acknowledging every side of the arena with a humble smile. Francis: In all my years, I’ve never heard such an ovation. King: That’s because you missed my days in the Carnival. Francis: What the hell were you a clown in a tiny car? King: You’re joking? Kid, you need to go watch some old tapes and learn something. Seemingly satisfied, the fans start to quiet down ever so slightly. Williams gets out one syllable when the chant starts again. Williams sees other signs as well, signs reading “Danny, Please Come Back!” and “We Need a Real Champion!” There almost too painful to look at as he realized long ago that his body won’t let him be the fighting Champion that his fans want him to be. Trying his best to push these thoughts behind him, Williams takes another try. “You know why I’m here!” he growls into the mic, pushing his deep chested voice as loud as it can go. Raising his hand, he extends his index finger, and points around the building. The fans respond with ballistic cheers. “So let’s get this thing, started!” he snarls, looking to the entrance platform. All eyes turn to the platform as well, the tension rising to unbearable levels. Folding his hands, Williams impatiently taps his foot. He’s not scared of anybody, just anxious. Up until this moment he’s refrained from speculation himself as its poor for mental preparation, but now in these final seconds he finds himself just as anxious and excited as the fans. Despite himself, images of various legends and past Champions dance in his head. He even finds himself suspiciously eyeing Francis and the King outside the ring, watching for a sneak attack as neither was exactly trust worthy in their day. King: Here’s your chance for payback, Francis. Francis: I don’t think so but who will step into the ring with Williams? Will it be a former rival? A retired legend? A current superstar? King: We all saw the promo, now shut up! The curtain draping over the locker room remains still. The fans grow more and more restless, chanting various names in a chaotic collage. Suddenly, Disturbed’s “I’m Alive” hits the speakers and the shocked fans collectively groan as their each and every dream match up is crushed into a disappointing nightmare. Francis: Oh no! King: The fruit of the Longdogger lives! The SWF’s first second generation athlete returns! Not recognizing the music, Williams peers as hard as he can down the aisle. Emerging from the locker room, an unremarkable looking kid with a girl that looks tougher than him strut out on to the platform like they own the place. Holding a mic, the kid screams “Cut the music!” Waiting for the music to fade, he continues “That’s right. It’s me, Kevin Coyote!” Judging by the violent negative reaction from the crowd, Williams guesses that this isn’t a very well liked guy. “I accept your challenge, dog!” Coyote announces in a cocky, irritating tone. With a puzzled look on his face, Williams brings the mic to his chin. “Who the hell are you?” he demands The fans burst into laugher while Coyote jumps up and down with rage. His valet comforts him, cooling him off so he can retort without busting a vein in his neck. “Mark my words; you and everybody in this building will know my name once this match is through!” “Aren’t you Pete’s kid?” “I’m nobody’s kid, I made my own way into this business!” shouts the red faced Coyote in a whiny insecure tone, his valet rubbing his chest as if she’s scared he’s going to have a heart attack. “Do you want the match or not, kid.” growls Williams, impatiently. Slamming down the mic, Coyote marches to the ring with a worried Avery trotting behind him. Entering the ring, he jumps on the second rope and flashes a pathetic muscle pose. Many of the fans flex back, most revealing far more impressive muscles in turn. Flipping them off, Coyote takes position in his corner while a nervous looking Nick Soapdish makes his typical bumbling entrance; nearly tripping and killing himself on the bottom rope. The titanic crowd can barely contain their excitement as both men stand ready in the ring with veteran official, Nick Soapdish, ready to lay down the law. From his corner, Williams observes his opponent carefully. Truth be told, Coyote doesn’t look very impressive as he certainly bares little if any resemblance to his towering muscle bound father. Dressed in cheap denim with goofy, yellow buzzed hair, he looks like some average punk kid dragged out from sort of weird Honkey Tonk dance club for the purpose of being helplessly fed to a savage wild haired barbarian. However, while most punks would wet themselves at the intimidating sight of a broad shouldered beast like Williams, Coyote looks as arrogant and cocky as a heavyweight boxer facing a girl scout. Though the majority fans find this seemingly self diluted sense of confidence to be irritating, Williams takes it with precaution. Francis: This is going to be an intriguing match up to say the least. Coyote is the younger and more athletic of the two but Williams has so much more power and proven toughness..... King: Bah, your analysis is ass backwards. As proven in the ring, Kevin Coyote is vastly superior to his Frankenstein father. He’s smart, crafty, and hungry where as Williams is big, dumb, and burned out. The tall and comically skinny official carefully inspects the always suspicious Coyote, making sure his pockets are completely empty. Surprisingly, he finds nothing but lent. Coyote snickers while Avery flashes a wink in his direction. Whining excessively, Coyote demands that the skimpier clad Williams also be checked. In the interest of fairness, Soapdish lackadaisically inspects Williams’ bright white boots. Hearing the sound of charging feet, Danny looks up to see the Coyote stampeding his way for the dreaded Spear! Thinking fast, he gently shoves the official out of harm’s way. Not having enough time to move himself, Williams braces himself for the collision, tensing his massive abdominal muscles into a steel wall! With teeth clinched, Coyote dips his head and puts everything he has into the thunderous blow! Much to Danny’s surprise, he barely feels the impact as Coyote comically bounces off his rock hard abs! Hitting the mat with a loud thump, Coyote cradles his head and rolls to the floor. Francis: I would say that plan backfired. King: It was a good idea in theory. Out of the corner of his eye, Williams sees the lovely Avery hiding her face with embarrassment before running to the side of her ailing man. Though he was worried about Coyote’s pre-match confidence, Williams is relieved to know that he hits like a raw egg. Letting the fans know he’s as surprised as they are by this goofy turn of events, Williams casually shrugs his shoulders. Over the roaring laughter of the crowd, he hears Soapdish call for the bell. Ding! Ding! Ding! Watching his opponent closely, Williams sees an aching and clearly embarrassed Coyote conversing with his scantily clad valet, who’s feverishly massaging his neck and shouting hopeful words of encouragement. He decides not to push his advantage as leaving the ring will leave him open to a possible ambush as this Coyote kid appears to like short cuts. Giving Coyote all the room he needs, Williams lets the official do his thing. Apparently feeling better, Coyote eagerly slides into the ring at the count of “8.” Looking confident again, he motions for a grapple. Though he’s rightfully cautious, Williams gives Coyote what he wants. They lock up without incident and Williams feels Coyote struggling to back him up, simply lacking the power to even dream of doing such a thing. Getting desperate, Coyote shifts his grip behind Danny’s head, grabbing at his hair for more leverage. Growing bored of this crap, Williams decides to push back! Seemingly weightless, Coyote bounces backwards off the canvas like a basketball with too much air! Taking the opportunity to use some intimidating tactics, Williams poses as hard as he can, exposing every enormous muscle in his sculpted frame! Appearing to be momentarily terrified, Coyote scrambles to the ropes while Avery steels a glance at Danny’s hunkish figure before counseling her lover from the floor. Francis: Without question, Williams is the more powerful wrestler! King: Thank you, Sherlock Holmes. Not that I should have to explain it to a super genius like you but the real question is not rather Coyote can match Danny’s power but instead find a way around it. Francis: Which he has thus far failed to do. King: So he underestimated him on his initial attempts, big deal. I’m interested to see how things will go in the later minutes of the bout; I doubt a brute like Williams can go more than five minutes without blowing up. You know that’s why I never sported the body builder look. Francis: I thought that was because you had bad genes. King: I only wear the finest khakis, dummy. Standing up with an outraged look on his face, Coyote hypocritically whines to Soapdish about “hair pulling.” The fans predictably react with a chorus of “boos” that’s so loud it feels like they’re proverbial missiles being launched into the ring. Williams can’t help but roll his eyes as Soapdish approaches him, questioning him about the phantom hair pulling. Suddenly, Williams feels a flurry of elbows connect with his jaw as Coyote ambushes him from behind the official! Soapdish angrily ducks out of the way, letting the two go at it. The blows annoyingly sting but Williams doesn’t feel any real damage being inflicted. Deciding that Coyote has had enough fun, Williams comes back with an elbow of his own! Wobbling drunkenly with a dazed look on his face, the Coyote crumbles to the canvas while Avery annoyingly overreacts on the outside! Not even approaching the hardest elbow he’s ever thrown, Williams can only modestly shake his head at Coyote’s chin of glass. The sound of laughter again circles around the arena. Francis: The last thing you want to do is trade elbows with Danny Williams. King: He had the element of surprise, another good idea in theory. Of course I wouldn’t have went for the elbows, I would have just hit him in the balls. Francis: I would have to, actually. Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, Coyote recuperates on the ropes. Not feeling a need to violate the rules when he is so easily dominating the match, Williams gives the man his legally required break. Though he just had his brains scrambled, Coyote looks to be feeling good again as he leaves the ropes after a brief rest. Much to Williams’ surprise, Coyote even starts to trash talk as he motions for another grapple. Williams accepts but grabs only air as Coyote evades him with a slippery roll. Losing sight of the little bastard, Williams spins around only to eat a well placed Dropkick! Proud of himself, Coyote leaps to his feet with joy only to find that the statuesque Williams is still standing. Much to the heel’s horror, Williams leaves his feet, drilling Coyote with a much heavier, harder Dropkick! Gasping for air, Coyote cradles his stomach and rolls to the floor while the crowd rewards Williams’ athleticism with appreciative applause. King: Coyote outsmarted Williams in that sequence, he just needs to walk the fine line between confidence, and...... well overconfidence a little better. Francis: I agree, using his speed and agility to counter was a good idea but he should have known that one light weight Dropkick isn’t enough to make Williams flinch. Walking to the far side of the ring, Williams sees the fans rise to their feet with encouraging cheers. He knows what they want and why not? Closely watching Avery help the ailing Coyote to his feet, Williams takes careful aim and charges! Picking up as much speed as his bulking frame will allow, Williams lifts his feet off the mat and dives through the ropes! Extending his elbow in front of him, he crash lands into Coyote while Avery stands breathlessly beside them unharmed! The sight of seeing the real Elbow Suicida for the first time in a year nearly sends the massive crowd into cardiac arrest. Francis: Williams hasn’t lost a step during the long lay off. King: Thank god he missed his target. Francis: What? That was an attack of the most delicate precision. King: Don’t give me that, that monster was aiming for Avery. Francis: You can’t be serious? King: History doesn’t lie, Williams is a woman beater. Don’t tell me you forgot about what he did to Syndey Sky and Annie Eclectic. Francis: Those were sanctioned bouts with the toughest women in the world, both Sky and Eclectic would find it insulting be lumped into the same category with a sleazy ho like Avery. King: It takes one to know one! Sliding back into the ring, Williams is amazed to hear the fans once more explode into cheers. Though he would like to do more to acknowledge them, he can only briefly raise his arm in the air before getting focused on his opponent once more. On the outside he sees Avery once more assisting her man, guiding him to the ring apron with great care and concern. Appearing to still be dazed by the Elbow Suicida, Coyote uses the ropes to just barely drag himself upright. Getting the clear from Soapdish, Danny moves in. Seeing that Coyote’s back is turned, Williams simply ducks his head under his arm, bringing him back in for a Backdrop Suplex! Bam! Williams feels cold hard iron being slammed into his forehead! Bam! He feels it again! Bam! And again! Unable to feel his legs anymore, Williams falls backwards in a stupor! The next thing he knows, Coyote is laying on top of him with a lateral press! Francis: Where did those knux come from?! King: Avery must have slipped them on Coyote’s hand while they were on the floor, nice team work. Very slick, I even missed it. His head throbbing, Williams hears Soapdish drop to his knees and start the count while the shocked fans collectively gasp in horror. Williams tries to kick out but he feels tiny arms clinging to his boots from the outside. Francis: Avery is holding his feet down from the floor! King: Oldest trick in the book and no surprise, everyone’s favorite Neanderthal played right into the Coyote’s hands. Danny hears the official hand slap the mat for the count of “two” and the realization of what’s happening sinks in. Refusing to lay down so easily, Williams summons all off his upper body power! With a mighty heave, he bench presses Coyote right off his chest! The surprised crowd pops like firecrackers as Coyote is sent flying over the second rope; crash landing on his loyal valet! Francis: Williams, using raw power to even the odds! King: Well, he’s not going to think his way out of anything. Sitting up, Williams feels something running from above his eye. Wiping his stinging forehead, he looks at his hand to discover that it’s covered in fresh blood. This angers him greatly but he can’t afford to lose his cool. Standing up with the aid of the ropes, he looks out of the ring to see Coyote and Avery shaken up on the floor. He attempts to go after them but a faint feeling brings him to a single knee. From behind a waterfall of flowing blood and hair, he sees Soapdish consulting him. “He’s got knux!” groans Williams. Nodding, the official turns his back and starts to count. Helping the wobbly Avery to her feet, Coyote angrily slides back into the ring. Soapdish gets right in his face, searching his pockets once more, confusingly finding nothing. “It was a punch.” insists Coyote, while the fans chant “Bullshit.” Without any hard evidence, Soapdish reluctantly lets the match continue. Looking up, Williams sees a grinning Coyote casually confront him. Dragging the weary Williams up for more punishment, the confident heel smiles to the fans when a desperation elbow knocks him flat on his ass! Still unable to find his legs, Williams drops to his knees while the fans try to encourage him to push the attack. Jumping up with a snort, Coyote desperately hugs the kneeling Williams with a suffocating headlock. From the hold, Williams sees Coyote reach into his tights and stealthily remove a bloody pair of brass knuckles. Bam! The next think Williams knows he’s on his back; his head throbbing like it’s going to explode. Coyote dances around the ring like he’s the happiest man alive, suavely tucking the knux into his jockstrap in plain view of everyone but the official. Suspecting foul play, Soapdish confronts the dancing fool only to once again find nothing on him. Predictably, the fans nearly riot as Soapdish has no choice but to let the match continue. King: I like this plan. Coyote and Avery are playing a classic game of the hide the knuckles….I can’t believe I said that. Francis: All innuendos aside, things do not look good for Williams. Fish hooking the cut on Williams’ face, Coyote forces his bloodied foe to stand. With the help of a handful of hair, Coyote forcefully whips him off the ropes! However the stronger, heavier Danny slams on the breaks for the reversal! Coyote bounces off the ropes against his will and with perfect timing, Williams effortlessly heaves him over his head for the Press Slam! Deciding that slamming him on his back would be too good, Williams instead throws Coyote head first into the corner. Much to the delight of the crowd, the cheating punk lands face first on the top turnbuckle! Clutching his mouth with a pained grimace, he causelessly stumbles around in a daze. Picking his opening carefully, Williams casually waltzes up behind his dazed opponent and hurls him backwards for a German! Despite blood trickling into his eyes and nose, Williams stays balanced on his toes for the bridge; listening to the hopeful thousands in attendance count along. “One!” “Two!” Small hands sweep one of Williams’ carefully planted boots out from underneath him, breaking up the pin. Sitting up with a growl, Williams sees the pretty face of Avery innocently smiling from the outside. Soapdish asks what’s wrong and Danny points a finger of accusation in Avery’s direction! Visibly disgusted, the official addresses the valet while Williams notices Coyote frantically crawling away. Wiping blood from his burning eyes, Danny pursues the little worm, grabbing him by the foot and dragging him away from the corner. Forcing Coyote up to his knees, Williams notices that he is fiddling with something in his hand! Bam! Rocked by yet another skull cracking brass knuckle shot, he goes down hard, his head ringing louder than a fire truck. Collapsing from the toll of the big German Suplex, Coyote subtly tucks the knuckles back into his tights while the fans practically pull their own hair out with frustration. Francis: Does Kevin Coyote have any shame, how many brass knuckle shots does he need to gain the upper hand? King: As many as it takes or until he gets caught. However I doubt either Williams or Soapdish have the brain power to stop him. Like it or not, Coyote is the smartest man in the ring tonight. Done chatting with Avery, Soapdish turns to find a grinning Coyote victoriously crawling atop the comatose Champion, his free arm raised triumphantly in the air. Though he suspects something fishy is up, the official has no choice but to honor the pin fall. The fans protest and bite their nails as the official counts down. One! Two! To a massive pop, Williams strongly kicks out from the weak pin! Bewildered, Coyote hooks the leg in hopes of a better result. One! Two! Again, Williams wills his way out of peril. Frustrated that his celebration was cut short, Coyote mounts his bloodied foe, swinging right hands directly into the blood spewing cut on his forehead. However the clean punches don’t have quite the knock out power as the brass knuckles and Williams starts to become very aware and very angry. With an animalistic roar, Williams turns the tables on his smaller attacker. Mounting Coyote, Williams hears the acolytes of the fans as he uses heavy forearms to club the young punk to hell and back! Desperate to escape this much deserved beating, Coyote viciously digs his nails into Williams’ lacerated flesh, causing a gory fountain of blood to rain everywhere! Falling back in agony, Williams wallows on the canvas in bloody anguish while a shaken up, blood splattered Kevin Coyote ignores Soapdish’s warnings. The scene is sickening as the fans gasp in horror. King: Coyote is making good use of that cut he’s opened up. Francis: Thus far it’s been his only lifeline in this match, that and the brass knuckles. King: You used your knee brace all the time, hypocrite. Francis: I was confused than, plus it was cleared for ring use. King: For your knee maybe, not your opponent’s face. I’m no angel but at least I can admit it, Makky boy. Seeing his own blood pour to the canvas by the gallons, Williams struggles to push himself off the floor. Putting a stop this, Coyote hits the ropes and springs back with a kick, nailing the woozy Williams’ directly in his blood smeared face. Rolling over on his back, the stunned Danny looks up to see a grinning Coyote stomp his boot on his forehead. Sadistically, Coyote rubs the boot into the gash, drawing pained grunts from his gore covered victim. Soapdish starts to count, prompting the Coyote to finish his torture session with a hard scraping stomp. The pain of ripped flesh tremors through Williams’ nerve endings as he crawls to a nearby corner, leaving behind a dripping trail of fresh blood. Desperate to reach his feet, he frantically uses the cables to pull himself up. Blood is now running off his chin in steady streams, he tries to open his eyes but all he sees is red. Stalking him from behind, a calculating Coyote reaches his claws around Danny’s face. Digging his fingers into the gash, he rips them back with a quick hard pull, further tearing the already gaping wound! Blinded by spurting rivers of blood, Danny aimlessly wanders around the crimson stained ring, wildly swinging at and hitting nothing. Picking his moment, Coyote waits for it, waits for it, and than bam, spikes the blinded Williams’ face into the canvas with a mean spirited DDT! The scene is incredibly gruesome as the shocked, repulsed fans helplessly watch in stony silence. This is not the welcoming party they wanted for Williams, their parade has been rained on by a flood of pouring blood. Francis: I thought for sure he was going for the Coyote Takedown but I guess he figured a DDT would soot his bloody cause better. King: Let’s see that big oaf Longdogger Pete work a game plan that effectively. Francis: That is neither here nor there. Sitting up, Coyote bursts into proud hysterical laughter. Leaving Williams to drown in a pool of his own spewing blood, Coyote parades around the ring, his clothes drenched in the blood of every wrestling fan’s hero. Avery claps and hoots as he dramatically poses over Williams’ fallen body like a hunter that’s just made a prize kill; swiping his hands in a “all to easy” gesture. Francis: Coyote has too much arrogance for his own good. King: He’s just trying to get noticed, Mak. He’s kicking the ass of a former World Champion and he wants us know how easy it is for him. It’s not his fault nobody believes in his ability because his dad just happened to be a wrestler too. Francis: While I believe he is a talented young man, beating a man senseless with sneaky brass knuckle attacks does little to prove natural ability. King: It shows that he’s smart and willing do anything to get ahead, what more does he need. Francis: An ego check. Crudely kicking Williams over on his back, Coyote inspects the damage done. No surprise, Williams looks like a complete and utter mess as his entire face is now completely stained crimson while his reddened eyes roll back in his head in constant struggle to stay open. The sight of seeing the once dangerous strong man seemingly helpless feels Coyote with a massive booster shot of un-needed confidence. Having no respect or remorse, Coyote spits in Williams’ blood mangled face. “Get up, dog!” he screams. Williams doesn’t respond so Coyote takes the initiative by bitch smacking his face from side to side. Blood flies off Williams’ face, splattering the official, Coyote, and the entire ring side area with fresh droplets. No longer stunned, the fans begin to grow angry, very angry. There’s nothing they would want more right now than to storm the ring and tear Coyote apart for what he’s doing to their hero. However, their only hope for some retribution is the man in the ring and they know it. Urging him to get up and take the fight to this punk, the fans start chanting. “DAN-E!” “DAN-E!” “DAN-E!” The sound resounds in Williams’ ears, distant and incoherent like someone screaming underwater. As the chant progressively becomes louder it starts to get penetrate his consciousness. Hearing his name being loudly chanted by thousands upon thousands of people, Williams emerges from oblivion into a vague state of awareness. He remembers why he’s here, he can’t come back after all this time to just give up and let the fan’s down again. He tries to open his eyes only to find that blood has pooled and caked in them. Sitting up, Williams rubs his eyes but the blood is so stick and it just keeps flowing. Stepping back, Coyote gets poised and ready. “Get up, dog! I’m not done with you yet.” he screams, motioning for Williams to bring it. Not needing 20/20 vision to know where the loud mouthed punk is, Williams heads for his taunter with bad intentions, his eyes clearing just in time to see the trap he’s walked in to. Bam! The RKO connects! Williams’ face lifelessly bounces off the canvas and Coyote couldn’t be happier! Jumping to his feet with joy, he mocks Danny’s ignorance while the stunned crowd can only watch in dread. Rolling Williams’ dead bloodied carcass over, Coyote poses sideways atop him, flashing the bird to the rageful fans as Soapdish starts the count. One! Two! NO! Williams shoots a shoulder up! Bewildered, Coyote frantically hooks a leg with a more secure pin. One! Two! Williams kicks out with authority! Coyote is outraged! The crowd comes alive! Lashing out at Soapdish, Coyote profanely insists that the count was slow and biased. Avery gets in on the act as well, screaming up a storm from the apron. As brave as always, the skin and bone official stands by his decision. Getting nowhere, Coyote turns to find Williams somehow stumbling to his feet. Measuring the clumsy looking blind man, Coyote grabs his chin for another RKO! But Williams pushes him off! Coyote hits the ropes and rebounds back! Williams swings wildly! AXEBOMBER LANDS! Both men are down! The crowd is on their feet! Francis: And in the blink of an eye the landscape of this match has changed drastically! King: Coyote just gave this match away. Soapdish starts the count while the molten hot crowd stomps and chants in the hopes Williams will reach his feet and put Coyote in his place. Lying motionless on the canvas, Williams looks like a spent force, the Axe Bomber perhaps his final surge of life. Having been acrobatically knocked off his feet in a back flip of carnage, Coyote lays on his back, his eyes open but seeing nothing. Soapdish reaches a count of five and the fans start to get nervous, surely it can’t end like this? They need revenge, they need closure, not a meaningless draw where their hero couldn’t get the job done. Suddenly, their prayers are answered as Williams starts to move. Unfortunately so does Coyote. Crawling to the ropes as if he can’t feel his lower body, the Coyote begins to scale the sturdy cables like a spider. In the center of the ring, Williams doesn’t have such a luxury; having to get on his own two feet the hard way. With the fans cheering him on with the relentless urgency, Williams reaches a vertical base only for his legs to crumble beneath him. The ref resumes the count at eight when a rubber legged Coyote reaches his feet. Looking like a scared, desperate man at the end of his rope, he screams something inaudible at Avery who spontaneously leaps on the apron to make a complaint to Soapdish, her cleavage bursting out of her top as she dramatically leans over the highest rope. Soapdish isn’t a stupid man but he is a man. Digging into his jeans like a sexual pervert, Coyote removes the dreaded brass knuckles to the dismay of the fans. Francis: Not again. King: It’s worked every other time, why not now? Eying the wobbly Williams up, Coyote takes a swing! But it’s caught! Waving a taunting finger in Coyote’s face, Williams drops to the canvas, scissoring the captured limb with his legs! Knowing what’s in store for the Coyote, the crowd goes absolutely nuts! Francis: THE CROSS ARMBREAKER! Trying to keep his cool and stay on his feet, Coyote desperately snags the tope rope with his free hand! However Soapdish can’t call the break as he’s still busy arguing with the busty Avery on the far side of the ring. Much too powerful and determined to be denied, Williams continues to pull with all his might on the captured limb. Coyote tries to cling to the ropes but it’s no use as his fingers slip off one by one! The Coyote screams “No! No! Nooooo!” as he’s pulled from the ropes, his eyes wide with fear as he finds himself being inevitably dragged to the canvas! King: He had the damn rope break! Francis: That’s irony for you. Holding nothing back, Williams stretches the limb as far as it can go and than some! The brass knuckles prove to be most helpful as Williams cruelly uses them to snap Coyote’s stationary fingers backwards! Having never felt such excruciating pain before as his elbow and fingers threaten to brutally hyper-extend in an orgy of pain, Coyote lets loose a blood curdling scream! With Coyote screaming bloody murder, Soapdish ignores Avery’s attentive pleas and rushes to the scene just in time to see his hand desperately tapping the canvas. Ding! Ding! Ding! Releasing Coyote’s mangled arm, Williams lies on the canvas, breathing heavily. Outside of fatigue from blood lost, he’s felt worse before. Cradling his aching arm and hand, Coyote rolls to the outside where Avery embraces him with irritating sobbing. Over the roar of the crowd, Funyon makes the official announcement. In a much more exited tone than usual he exclaims ”Ladies and gentlemen, referee Nick Soapdish has stopped this match at 12 minutes and 36 seconds, rewarding it to the winner........as a result of a submission.....DANNY WILLIAMS!!!” The two shamed lovers hang their heads as they cling to each other, whining down the aisle while the front roll fans mock them the entire way. “I made the ropes!” insists the Coyote over and over again. Soapdish raises Williams’ hand and the overjoyed fans blow the roof off the building! Francis: It looks like the Neanderthal outsmarted the Coyote. King: If Williams was as fair as he claims to be, he would have released the hold when Coyote made the ropes. How can he be proud of a victory like this, taking advantage of an opportunity that Coyote and Avery so brilliantly made happen. Francis: Technically he was following the rules as no rope break was called. Let’s also not forget that Williams spent the majority of this match fighting two people and a foreign object, pulling off a victory of any kind is nothing short of amazing. King: The hell with you and Danny Williams! This guy is nothing but a hypocritical moron and you’re all too dumb to see it. Mark my words; next time this bum comes back I’m going to be first in line to accept his challenge. Francis: Right. Feeling better as the wound on his forehead has finally clotted, Williams stands of his own free will. Covered in blood and victorious, he’s happy to have given his fans something fitting to remember him by. Not knowing when they’ll see him again, the fans stretch the moment out as long as possible, endlessly singing Williams’ praises, who in turn takes the time to pose on every corner of the ring as the sun at last sets on the arena. Saddened, the fans send Danny on his way with bitter-sweet joy, hoping it won’t be the last time they see him again. Williams himself takes in the moment, wandering if this might be his final outing in the spotlight of the SWF. Walking away from wrestling for good may be the best thing for his health but the dramatic scene before him is such an emotional high that feelings of doubt plague his thoughts. He has a great deal of thinking to do but for now, he’s celebrating what could be his last major victory with his fans Francis: If this is the last image we see of Danny Williams in a SWF ring....than we couldn’t have asked for a more fitting one. Bloody and exhausted from a grueling battle, he may not be a Champion but he has the hearts of the fans. King: That may be nice but it’s not nearly as nice as the pile of money I sleep on every night.

People cheer as Genesis VII kicks back up. "One and the Same" by Audiohead reverberates through the stadium. The oval SmarkTron hovering over the Rogers Centre's scoreboard sparks to life with a montage of highlights featuring a young indy wrestler. "The Crush" flash before Scotty Raina's smiling face beams down on the SWF faithful. Mak Francis and the Suicide King are shown seated at the announce table while the bell rings the start of the next match. "A fine showing from JJ Johnson and 'The Unique Youth' in our first match, but we're not through yet!" exclaims King, "No, that's only the first helping of the fine buffet of wrestling expertise at our biggest of shows, Genesis Seven!" Scotty Raina practically leaps out from behind the curtain at the left outfield. The Crush pumps his fists and yells out to the crowd standing below him. "How right you are, so many great matches yet to come! Jenkins versus the Divine Wind; Deathwish and his unnamed opponent, and of course the big one, Flesher and Stevens for the Cruiserweight AND World Titles! The Commissioner came through in the clutch this year, wouldn't you say?" asks Francis. "Our next match," booms Funyon, "Is a Fatal Fourway Elimination Match! Introducing first, from Detroit, Michigan, and weighing in at two hundred twenty five pounds... Scotty... THE CRUSH... RAAAAAAIIIIIIINNAAAAAA!" Scotty high fives a few fans at ringside before sliding under the bottom rope to enter the ring. He steps to the center ring and thrusts his arms to the fans at waist-height as white pyro flies from the ring posts. "Raina is a fresh import from one of the many fine Independant Leagues, a fresh talent who comes in highly touted," says Francis. "Remember Mak," starts King, "All the talent in the world won't do much if you don't have that drive... that WILL to succeed!" "You mean, will to win at all costs up to and including cheating?" asks Mak. "Of course," says King, "Not only is he up against another 'fresh' talent, but two grizzled veterans of the ring in MANSON and Rageheart! Those are rough odds for anyone, Francis, you have to admit that." As Raina's theme cuts out, the Rogers Centre becomes bathed in darkness. What little light the moon can shed upon the arena helps accentuate the twisted, demonic warbling coming through the sound system. The horrific sounds grow louder and louder as fans begin to stand to their feet, their attention turned towards the right outfield. The suspense is so thick you could cut it with a knife... "Here comes trouble!" exclaims King. ...Seizure inducing strobe lights flash and pulse as "Scientific Remote Viewing" by Cephalic Carnage The robed MANSON flings the curtain aside and strides out to the top of the entrance ramp, slowly viewing the jeering masses below him. "His opponent," begins Funyon, "From Denver Colorado, and weighing in at two hundred thirty pounds... He is the RAGING BULL... MAAAAAAAANSOOOOOOOOOON!" MANSON throws his hood back and strides purposefully down the ramp, ignoring the boos raining down from the crowd. "MANSON hasn't had the best track record of late," says Francis, "Nor has Scott Rageheart for that matter, I'm certain that both men are highly motivated to try and come out of Genesis with a momentum-inducing win." "Highly motivated and highly dangerous," starts King, "MANSON and Rageheart have that 'it', that special something that makes them want it more, I suspect both men with use experience and drive to bull past the two newcomers and make it to the final fall." "For all this talk of an 'it' factor," retorts Mak, "It sure hasn't shown up in the win columns of late." Momentarily humbled, King's microphone produces nothing but silence. Meanwhile MANSON has started to climb the ring steps, removing his belt and dropping his robe as he steps upon the apron. Raina takes his corner... far far away from MANSON as the God of War steps through the ropes. He takes a quick moment to spit towards Scotty before settling down to his preferred corner. Just as darkness had prevailed before MANSON, the Centre now becomes awash in light. The pickup verse from "Knights of Cydonia" by Muse begins to play... "No one's going to take me alive The time has come to make things right You and I must fight for our rights You and I must fight to survive" BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! Clad in pure white, the masked Scion of Light bounces from behind the curtain as white pyromatics go off in front of her. She freezes in a pose with one arm bent towards her head, and the other straight up, allowing the moment to be absorbed by the fans. "Their next opponent," begins Funyon, "From Kyoto, Japan, and weighing in at one hundred sixty pounds... the SCION of LIIIIIIIGHT!" "I'm sure whatever 'it' this one has, it's not about to result in a win," muses King. "You know the old chestnut, don't judge a book by its cover," chides Mak, "We've had women come into the league and take out the bigger, stronger men before, and there's no indication that our latest Japanese import, the Scion of Light, can't do the job." "Oh, I'm sure she can do the JOB," says King, chuckling. Without warning, the Scion breaks from her pose and runs full speed towards the ring and slides under the bottom rope. She pops instantly to her feet and makes the same pose in the center of the ring to the cheers of the audience. Those cheers quickly turn to boos as "Exciter" by Judas Priest comes on full blast. A short pyro blast preceeds the blonde haired, blue eyed Scott Rageheart's entrance from behind the curtain. "Last but not least," says Funyon, "From Lethbridge, Alberta, Canada... weighing in at two hundred fourty five pounds.... SCOTT. RAAAAAAGEHEEAAAAAARRRRRRT!" "Just like MANSON, this man is hungry and he's ready for a win," starts King, "And woe be to the new fools that will try and get in his way." "Woe be?" asks Mak. "Shut up, basic point is that my prediction of MANSON and Rageheart to finish this elimination match will stand. You watch." "And who do you think will win out of those two?" asks Mak. "It's a tossup, too close to call!" exclaims King. "I'm sure it is." Rageheart jogs down the ramp, his eyes not moving away from his opponents in the ring. He walks to the one unmanned corner and hops up to the ring apron, removing his white T-shirt before the festivities begin. All four people step into the ring, while the referee tries to get two of them to step back so the match can start in earnest. "I'm not sure if these guys got the memo," says King, "But this is a fatal fourway, elimination rules. For you folks at home needing the reminder, only two people can be in the ring at any time. They can tag out to either of the other two participants until one person is finally eliminated. With only one person left to tag in and out, the remaining three fight until one more is eliminated, leaving the final two for the last fall. Pinfall, submission, DQ or countout, it doesn't matter how you go as long as you do!" MANSON thumps his chest towards Rageheart in a motion saying 'I got this'. Rageheart shrugs as he steps back through the ropes to his corner. Raina and the Scion look towards each other momentarily confused. The referee explains the situation to them both. The Scion taps The Crush on the shoulder and thumps her right fist into her open left hand three times. Raina seems to realize the idea and gets his fist ready as well. "What are these two morons doing?" asks King incredulously. 1 2 3 SHOOT! Raina extends two fingers in the shape of scissors, while the Scion leaves her hand flat like paper. Defeated, she steps back through the ropes and lets the Crush start the match against MANSON. DING! DING! DING! The crowd's laughter dies down as MANSON and Raina hook up in a collar elbow tie-up. Both men set their feet and brace themselves, but MANSON gets the upper hand by pushing Scotty backwards to the mat. "Such strength! He certainly earned the nickname The Raging Bull!" exclaims King. Raina pops to his feet and shakes off the bump. Loosening up, he signals to his opponent that he wants another go. The two men lock up again and again MANSON throws the smaller man back first to the mat. A third time Raina dusts himself off and locks up with the stronger man, this time with the Crush swiftly countering to a side headlock. MANSON shoves Raina off of him, with Scotty rebounding off the ropes and hitting his straightened out opponent with an acrobatic dropkick! The crowd cheers as the Raging Bull falls to the mat for the first time. "A bit of a technical start from these two, which is not the most comfortable situation for MANSON," notes Mak. Raina gets up first and runs to the opposite ropes as MANSON rises to his feet. On Scotty's return, the Savage Messiah attempts a clothesline but the Crush ducks underneath. Raina bounces off the opposite ropes and comes off with a flying forearm sending both men to the mat. Scotty scrambles to make the quick cover... ONE TWO TH---KICKOUT! "It's going to take more than that to take out the veteran," says King, "This ain't no scrub indie league, you have to EARN your wins here." "Are you always so harsh on the newcomers?" asks Francis. "Only the talentless hacks." "Ouch," replies Mak. Raina rises to his feet, pulling MANSON up with him. He delivers one... two... three sharp knees to MANSON's midsection before running to the ropes. He bounces off and leaps, grabbing the Raging Bull by his proverbial horns before landing and drilling his head to the mat in a vicious bulldog! Without skipping a beat, Raina scrambles to his feet and runs to the near ropes. He jumps, landing on the second rope, and leaps backwards making a perfect arc in the air before landing with a thud on MANSON's midsection. He quickly hooks a leg and the ref drops to make a count... ONE TWO---KICKOUT! "MANSON got out of that pin a bit quicker, I think he's sensing some danger coming from the rookie," notes Mak. "Or more likely, he's done toying with the youngster and wants to take him out NOW," muses King. MANSON manages to get to his feet before his opponent, and throws a vicious jab at his face. He follows with a second, garnering a warning from the referee. A third... a fourth... a fifth follow and Raina is reeling. He takes the young man's wrist and tries to give him an Irish Whip to the corner, but Raina stops his momentum and turns! He sends MANSON into the corner with all his might. The Raging Bull shudders on impact and drops to the mat in a seated position. Raina grins and calls out to the crowd, who get ramped up waiting for what's to come. LET'S GO SCOTTY! *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP* LET'S GO SCOTTY! *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP* Raina scuffs his feet on the mat like a bull, the runs full speed towards his fallen opponent. Halfway to his target he leaps in the air and lands a vicious dropkick to the fallen man's face! MANSON's eyes loll in his head as Raina pulls him out and hooks a leg for another cover... ONE TWO THRE----KICKOUT! The crowd groans audibly, not believing the three didn't drop. "The fans seem to be disappointed, and so does The Crush who seems to think that he should have had the three," says Mak. "Arguing with the referee will get you nowhere, Francis," says King, "But distracting yourself will only help your opponent! You can't take your eye off the prize and it looks like Scotty here may learn that the hard way." King's words prove true as Raina stops gabbing with the ref long enough to realize that MANSON has made his way across the ring towards a corner. He rushes over but is too late as MANSON slaps the hand of Scott Rageheart. The crowd starts to jeer as Rageheart comes in with a flurry of punches to Raina's dome. After five jabs the referee puts his hands in and separates the two, giving Rageheart a verbal warning. Raina tries to rush in with a surprise clothesline but Rageheart ducks under and heads to the ropes. Raina sets himself upright to try and take his opponent down, but Rageheart's running shoulderblock gives him other ideas. The Crush scrambles to make it back up to his feet but Rageheart is too quick and delivers another shoulderblock to knock him back down. "Scotty... er... Scott. No..." says Mak, "RAGEHEART taking the newcomer down a peg or two and turning the tide in his favor. Man, I hope someone tags if only so we don't have two Scotts in the ring." "I know what you mean," says King chuckling, "I'd hate to be one of the ringside reporters having to type this all out!" "Yeah," says Mak with a laugh, "It has to suck to be those guys!" "Yeah it does!" exclaims King. Rageheart pulls the Crush up to his feet and locks him up in a front facelock. He throws his opponent's arm over his head and grabs Raina by the top of his tights. With a grunt, he lifts the newcomer up and vertical, holding him up in mid-suplex. Two, three, four seconds go by, and some of the crowd starts to ooh and aah in spite of themselves. Then suddenly Rageheart drops and slams his victim to the mat. Raina's body goes still and Rageheart takes that as a good time to hook a leg for a cover... ONE TWO THRE----KICKOUT! "Scott sure took the wind out of Scott's sails," says King. "I don't know what Scott will do if Scott keeps this pressure up," says Mak. "Scott," says King. Raina tries to crawl towards the Scion's corner but Rageheart grabs him by the arm and pulls him back. Holding him by the head, Rageheart drives his knee into the Crush's midsection. He does so again, and again until spittle starts to fly out of the newcomer's mouth. Propping him up, Rageheart whips Raina to the ropes and drops down for a back drop. The Crush avoids it by hopping over the other Scott. Raina bounces off the rope, and barely ducks under a clothesline thrown by Rageheart. LET'S GO SCOTTY! *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP* LET'S GO SCOTTY! *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP* Rageheart sighs in frustration, taking a split second longer to turn around and face his opponent... who bounces off the ropes full speed and SPEARS him! Rageheart's body goes limp as he falls to the mat. Raina barely has the wherewithal to drape an arm over for the cover... ONE TWO THRE--EEEEEEE! DING DING DING! "And just like that, Rageheart is gone!!!" exclaims Mak, "Scott Rageheart has had some tough luck of late, but the newcomer comes up with a huge elimination!" "The match isn't over yet, remember!" says King. In a flash MANSON drops an elbow on the eliminator, just as Rageheart is being rolled out of the ring. On his feet, the Raging Bull stomps on the fallen Raina. He pulls the newcomer up to his feet but recieves an elbow to the gut for his services. MANSON tries for a front facelock but recieves another elbow just the same. Raina doesn't wait to deliver a third before desperately scurrying to the ropes. He hops up and hits the second rope, jumping back towards MANSON and wrapping his legs around the Raging Bull's head. Raina's weight pulls down hard and MANSON's sore head takes another spike to the mat. The Scion of Light reaches out frantically, egging on Raina to finally make a tag, but the Crush ignores her and goes back towards MANSON. "I know you want to make a mark as a newcomer, but in a match like this endurance is key," says Mak, "That could be a mistake from the rookie not to tag out." "Especially when you've just gotten a fluke fall over one veteran, don't expect to take out another one just like that!" exclaims King. Outside the ring, Rageheart begins to gather his senses. He climbs the apron under the belief he tagged out somehow, but the ref stops him, quickly explaining the situation. Scott gapes incredulously as the ref goes back to the action, where Raina plants another knee into his opponent's gut. With a hop, Raina hits the ropes... and falls flat on his face as Rageheart's hand sneaks in and trips him! Boos rain down as the referee screams at Rageheart and demands that he leave ringside. Raina slowly gets to his feet and turns to see the man that tripped him. The Crush gets riled up and begins to yell at the man that sabotaged his attack. The two go back and forth verbally until all of a sudden Raina drops backwards. The ref turns to see the newcomer rolled up in a schoolboy rollup! He drops to make the count... ONE TWO THREEEEE!!! DING DING DING "What a sneak way to get an elimination!" chides Mak, "No class whatsoever!" "This isn't a style competition, Francis!" says King, "It's a fight, and in a fight you do what you can to win. That's why MANSON is still in this shindig and Raina's going buhbye!" Raina rolls to his knees and rubs the back of his head. He first stares unbelievingly at the referee, then when reality sets in he gazes upon the grinning Rageheart on the outside. The Crush rushes outside where Rageheart awaits and the two begin an all out brawl. Another official heads down to ringside to try and break the two up while the referee signals the Scion to enter the ring. "How cute, little Scotty's made a new friend," says King snidely, "Welcome to the SWF kid, we ain't friendly!" "That's quite the brawl on the outside, but inside is where the legal action is, and we'll finally get a chance to see what this Scion of Light has," says Mak. MANSON, on his feet now, taunts the smaller fighter. He motions for S.O.L. to enter, smiling with the intent to cause pain. The Scion begins to step through, but pulls back as MANSON makes a move to rush at her. The Savage Messiah backs off as she steps closer towards the middle of the ring apron, warily eyeing her opponent. She starts to step through the ropes, and again the Raging Bull starts to rush at her. LET'S GO SCION! *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP* LET'S GO SCION! *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP* "Fickle audience," remarks King. The brawl on the outside is quickly rushed backstage as the referee starts to count for the Scion to come in. In response, S.O.L. pulls on the top rope and leaps up. Landing on the top rope, she flies off and catches MANSON full in the face with a dropkick! The crowd cheers as the Scion runs to the ropes. She bounces back and drops a quick leg on MANSON's head! Floating over for a quick cover, the ref drops for a count... ONE TW----KICKOUT! MANSON gorilla presses the woman off of him, sending her flying back! "Is this woman supposed to be a Power Ranger, or Hulk Hogan?" asks King. "MANSON's taken a lot of damage to the cranium," remarks Mak, "It's not too far off to think that he might be stunned after that beautiful top rope dropkick!" "He's not called the Raging Flamingo, Mak. He's called the Raging BULL. It takes more than a souped up dropkick to take a man like that down." MANSON powers up to his feet just as the Scion runs to the ropes. She leaps up to the second rope and jumps off for a cross body... only to get caught in the Raging Bull's arms! "I was going to mention how the Scion is down a good seventy pounds to MANSON," says King, "But it looks like he's just going to demonstrate that fact for me!" MANSON lifts his victim up a couple of inches before dropping to one knee and driving the side of S.O.L's torso into the other! A high pitched scream escapes the Scion's lips. The Savage Messiah rises to his feet only to drop down again, driving his knee harder into the woman's side. The crowd jeers MANSON who shrugs and simply hefts the struggling woman up onto his shoulders in a Fireman's carry... "Look how effortlessly MANSON moves this woman around like a rag doll!" Suicide King exclaims, "How can you say he's not the favorite to take this one home?" "I begrudgingly have to agree with you here," says Mak, "The Scion may be in some heavy trouble in her first match here!" ...Grunting MANSON lifts the woman high off his shouders and drops back, lifting both knees up in time to drive the dropping woman's ribs right onto them! Sympathetic groans are heard from the crowd as the Scion rolls off, clutching her midsection. MANSON rolls over and hooks a leg in a very loose cover... ONE TWO THRE-----KICKOUT! OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! "INCREDIBLY close kickout, you have to admire the guts in this newcomer," says Mak. "I'm surprised we can't all admire her guts... all over the mat after that Gutbuster!" quips King. MANSON shakes his head as he drags the woman up by her blonde hair. The referee admonishes him but the Raging Bull pays him no mind. Propping his victim up, MANSON wraps his arms around the Scion's waist, pops his hip, and hefts the woman high over his head with a grunt! The Scion of Light crashes down behind him, motionless. "Railgun Belly to Belly!" exclaims Mak, "MANSON's taking no quarter here, he wants a win at Genesis VII!" "Veteran smarts, Mak. I told you, MANSON won't be making any rookie mistakes like Raina," remarks King. MANSON saunters over to his fallen opponent and drops and elbow to her midsection. Nonchalantly, he rolls his back onto her stomach for the pin... ONE TWO THREE------KICKOUT! LET'S GO SCION! *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP* "EVEN CLOSER!" yells Mak, as the Suicide King removes his headset to rub his ears, "It's obvious the Scion is hurting, I know you want to win your first big match but I don't know how more she can take after those two big shots!" MANSON grumbles at the referee, slapping his hands in a three count in front of him. The referee shows him two fingers but MANSON ignores him. The Raging Bull rises to his feet and plants a few hard stomps in S.O.L's side before bending over to force her back up to her feet. Grabbing her wrist, MANSON yanks hard and whips the woman into the far corner. She slumps upon impact, showing no motion to fight. MANSON revs up and charges her with his arm extended for a clothesline... but gets nothing but turnbuckle as the Scion uses the top rope to pull herself out of the way. The crowd comes to life as the Scion springboards up off the second rope, turns in mid-air and grabs MANSON's head on her way down... SLAM! The crowd explodes into cheers as MANSON rolls on the mat, holding his head and kicking the canvas in pain. Scion staggers up to her full height, only to drop a knee down... onto plain canvas! MANSON rolls to his side and gets up with the help of the ropes, holding his throbbing noggin in his hand. "Scion, trying to capitalize on MANSON's mistake, makes one of her own," says Mak, "A rookie mistake, as King might say." "MANSON would have driven the win home given an opening like that," says King "As you said, a rookie mistake!" MANSON grabs his opponent by the wrist, attempting to shake his cobwebs out. With a jerk and a turn, MANSON whips the Scion towards the corner... but the Scion stops in her tracks and uses her momentum against her opponent! With a jerk and a turn, she whips the Raging Bull towards the ropes! He slams against the corner, his head snapping back viciously. Scion takes a deep breath and backs up into the far corner. She rushes at her opponent, cartwheeling... backflipping... then launching herself backwards with a wicked elbow to MANSON's forehead! "What an athletic maneuver!" exclaims Mak, "Given an OPENING from the Savage Messiah, the Scion took full advantage!" LET'S GO SCION! *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP* LET'S GO SCION! *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP* The Scion backs off and watches as her opponent starts to stagger out from the corner. Judging spaces and distances, the Scion heads back towards the ropes. Still foggy, MANSON stumbles towards the center of the ring as the Scion rebounds back full speed and steps up into a HARD SUPERKICK to the Raging Bull's face! The crowd goes wild as the kick takes MANSON up off his feet before he lands with a thud on the mat! "CLEANSING BEAM! Our scouts told us about her high-speed Superkick finisher! Right when MANSON was at his groggiest, this could be it!!!" exclaims Mak. Scion rushes to her fallen opponent and hooks a leg for the cover... ONE TWO THREE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DING DING DING "Knights of Cydonia" kicks up in full stride as the referee raises the rising Scion's hand in victory! "Your winner of the Fatal Fourway.... THE SCION... OF.... LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!" announces Funyon. The Scion of Light strikes her traditional Kamen pose, only to massage her sore stomach immediatly afterwards. A few chuckles mix in the with the cheers erupting from the Rogers Centre. "An impressive victory for the ROOKIE," says Mak, "The Scion of Light coming into the SWF in her first match and outlasting three men..." "Outlasting? She never even took or threw a punch until two of them were gone!" yells King. "Even still, she's the last one standing in the center of the ring. Not to take away from Raina who had an impressive showing taking out the veteran Scott Rageheart." "Will we see hot Scott on Scott action in the next show?" asks King. "That's horrible," says Mak. "I know, but I couldn't help it. Still, something to think about, and you know MANSON is going to want revenge for being upset by a wisp of a girl." "I wouldn't call a buck-sixty a wisp..." "Still," interrupts King, "There will be time enough to ponder these things later, because next up... Danny Williams against... somebody! Don't go away!"

Zyon vs. JJJ = TBEI.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SWF GENESIS VII Live, Monday, September 18th, from the Rogers Centre at Skydome in Toronto, Canada! (7pm PST, 10pm EST; check local listings) (Send all promos/marked matches to chirs3) -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT/CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH Michael Stephens © vs. Tom Flesher © They have a combined total of 20 titles won. They were both named Heel of the Year. They were both named World Champion of the Year. They were both named Wrestler of the Year. Both men have left their mark on the federation - both will be remembered as winners, as champions, and as legends... But after tonight, only one of them will be remembered as the best. This match will be fought under standard singles match rules. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SWF INTERNATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH - OLD SCHOOL RULES Bruce Blank © vs. "The Dean of Professional Wrestling" Jay Hawke After Bruce Blank won the International Championship Open Invitiational, Joseph Peters tried desperately to convert him into a man worthy of the belt. Whether or not he has succeeded is open for debate, but Blank must be doing something right, as over a month later he's still going strong. But that might be about to change. Bruce said a while ago that his International Title Reign would make people say "Jay Who?" But it seems like Jay Hawke has taken issue with that! The longest reigning International Champion in SWF History has clashed with Bruce on more that one occasion in recent weeks, and he managed to come out on top both times! And with Bruce's expertise being geared more towards the Hardcore end of the spectrum, Hawke's self-selected Pure Rules will only heighten the challenge for Blank to retain his title. Then again, Bruce is no stranger to record setting title reigns, and now that he's found a home in the International Division, odds are he will do anything to stay on top there. This match will be fought under Old School Rules. Two out of three falls, with a 60 minute time limit. Each wrestler has three rope breaks per fall. Throwing an opponent over the top rope is an immediate disqualification, and disqualifications and countouts WILL result in a title change! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- GRUDGE MATCH Wildchild vs. Mike Van Siclen We already knew that Wildchild was a force to be reckoned with in the ring, but ever since Mike Van Siclen returned, we've seen a new side of this Bahaman - a side that excels at psychological warfare. Having driven MVS nearly to the brink of insanity (having pulled some pranks worthy of Midnight Carnival itself), these two will finally meet in the match Wildchild has been itching for - and the match Mike Van Siclen has been desperately trying to avoid! This match will be fought without countouts, and without disqualifications. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- CAGE MATCH Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix © vs. "The Beast" Gabriel Drake Gabriel Drake has been an unsettling presence ever since his debut in the SWF. He has beaten everyone the bookers have thrown at him, and has his eyes set squarely on our World Champion. There is history there, but Landon Maddix doesn't care much for history, and he went out on a limb to get a match with Drake, in the hopes of shutting him down. Instead, he was jumped backstage, beaten into a bloody mess, and left as an example for all future opponents. Despite his partner's warnings, Maddix demanded this rematch, and JP was more than happy to oblige. More epicness to come... This match will be fought inside a 15 foot high steel cage. Bars, not the wussy fence kind. The first man to score a pinfall or submission, or to successfully escape the cage and plant both feet firmly on the ground, will be the winner. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- FIRST BLOOD MATCH Johnny Dangerous vs. Charlie "Grappler" Matthews One of the all time SWF greats, Johnny Dangerous, made his return to the SWF last Smarkdown. He was set to compete against Main-Event Mainstay Tom Flesher, in what many predicted would be a Match of the Year candidate. But a combonation of Johnny's eagerness and Tom's lack thereof led to the match being called off, but not before Charlie Matthews got involved. Johnny's chance to upstage the #1 Contender was lost, and now he's out for blood. But with Tom engaged in the Main Event, Johnny will have to settle for someone else's blood: Charlie Matthews'. This match will be fought under First Blood rules - the first man to cause his opponent to bleed is the winner. The referee must see the blood in order to end the match. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SWF HARDCORE CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH Jimmy the Doom © vs. The Crimson Skull Where do I even begin? The short version would be that The Crimson Skull has kidnapped Lois the Unethical, and rather than call the police and let the authorities sort this thing out, Joseph Peters has convinced these two to settle it at Genesis, with the Hardcore Title on the line! Jimmy's no slouch in the hardcore department, but The Crimson Skull is a dastardly villain indeed, and is sure to have more tricks up his sleeve that simply dangling Lois above a shark tank. It's a race against time - for the life of a beautiful woma... well, a woman... and for the SWF Hardcore Championship! This match will be fought under... some very bizarre rules. Lois the Unethical will be suspended 100 feet above the ring - I'm sorry, I mean above the shark tank. Jimmy the Doom and The Crimson Skull will begin the match deep undergound, beneath the arena. In order to win the match, retain his title, and save the girl, Jimmy the Doom must reach the controls to free Lois before she is lowered into the shark tank (roughly one hour). If The Crimson Skull is able to stop him from reaching the controls, he will become the Hardcore Champion (and a murderer ). -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP #1 CONTENDERS MATCH "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins vs. "The Divine Wind" Akira Kaibatsu Two of the federation's top Cruiserweights clash for a shot at the title on AftershoxxxXXxxXXx! Both men will undoubtedly be bringing their A-Game for Genesis, but for these two, it's going to go well beyond this show! The winner of this match will face the winner of tonight's Main Event on AftershoxxXxXXx, for the Cruiserweight title! And THEN they'll be defending against The Unique Youth, Zyon, who won a shot at the title on Smarkdown! Tonight is not the end of their chase for Cruiserweight gold - befitting the name of Genesis, tonight, their journey begins. This match will be fought under standard singles match rules, with the Cruiserweight addenda: it is illegal to throw your opponent over the top rope, and the count on the outside is extended to 20. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- MYSTERY MATCH "Deathwish" Danny Williams vs. ??? When people issue open challenges, we pay attention. When DANNY FREAKIN' WILLIAMS issues an open challenge, the line of competitors wanting to accept usually wraps around whatever arena we're in. Twice. Danny's invitation for Genesis 7 was accepted immediately, but his opponent has yet to reveal him or her-self publically! We're not even sure Danny himself knows! This match will be fought under standard singles match rules. Send your match to Ace309. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- FATAL FOURWAY ELIMINATION MATCH The Scion of Light vs. Scotty "The Crush" Raina vs. MANSON vs. Scott Rageheart Two newcomers make their debut - what better time than Genesis? There will be no Ced Ordonez's or Martin Hunt's to boost their ego. The Scion of Light and Scott "The Crush" Raina will compete against each other in their debut match, but not ONLY against each other! Two SWF veterans, who have fallen on hard times in recent weeks, will get to play welcoming committee, and try to turn their luck around. Will one of our newbies steal the show, and the Genesis spotlight? This match will be fought under Elimination Rules, with two persons in the ring at any given moment. The other two will stand in their respective corners, and can be tagged in or out at any time. Eliminations can occur via pinfall, countout, submission, or disqualification. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- TWO OUT OF THREE FALLS MATCH "The Unique Youth" Zyon vs. JJ Johnson Two long-time rivals will clash one final time, on the biggest stage of them all. Their history stands at 4-3, in favor of the Unique Youth, who definitely has a momentum boost coming into this match, having just defeated The Birdman in singles competition! JJ's recent exploits have been far less noteworthy, and some are beginning to question whether or not he's still got "it". What better time and place to find out than Genesis? This match will be fought to two out of three falls, with a 30 minute time limit. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Ian,his wight is 42 3/4 ponuds,4 foot tall,from Palm Bay,FL. Larkin,her wight is 39 5/8,3 foot & 5 inches tall,NY. DING! Ian kicks Larkin. Larkin kicks back. Ian throws Larkin out of the ring. ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! EIG...NO! Larkin gets back into the ring. Then Larkin Throws Ian out of the ring. ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE! TE..NO! Ian gets back in the ring. Ian pins Larkin. ONE! TWO! THR..NO! Larkin pins Ian. ONE! TWO! TH...NO! Larkin kicks Ian so hard. Ian was hurt. Ian does a Rock Bottom. Ian pins Larkin. ONE! TWO! THR..NO! Ian does a F-5. Ian pins Larkin. ONE! TWO! THR..NO! Ian gets out of the ring. Larkin does the same thing as Ian. ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE! TE..NO! Larkin is still out of the ring. ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE! TE..NO! Larkin gets back in the ring. Ian throws Larkin back out of the ring. ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE! TEN! DING! DING! DING! And our winner is Ian by count out!

"WELCOME TO THE SMARTMARKS WRESTLING FEDERATION'S BIGGEST EVENT OF ALL TIME, SWF GENESIS SEVEN!" The resounding sound of Carl Orff's "O Fortuna" echoes about the open stadium, as the roar of the crowd overtakes the camera microphones at the Rogers Center in the Toronto Skydome! Far above the heads of the crowd the night sky twinkles with stars, starts blotted out by the bright lights of the arena below, an arena filled to the brim with wrestling fans with signs ranging from the bizarre ("My child's Wild!") to the awkwardly disrespectful ("Stephens = My Drug!") and downright bizarre. ("G0R0!"). One of the biggest events in SWF history is taking place on this night, and everyone knows what that event is. SWF Genesis. The seventh, to be redundant. As the cameras pan down to the ringside area, there appears to be some sort of scuffle going on at the right-hand entrance to the ringside area. Specifically, numerous wrestlers who are pushing and shoving their way past security and heading for the ring. In the lead is everyone's favourite former Pokemaniac, Michael Craven. He's tailed by some of the SWF's less-than-greats - Cutthroat, Tokyo X, David Blazenwing (who, apparently, is tired of interviewing Landon) and the peanut-loving Mark Kinxx. As they approach the ringside area, we're finally treated to a view of the announce table, where Mak Francis and the Suicide King are seated, regarding the situation with perplexion and mild curiousity respectively. "And here we are at Genesis, about to have the pre-show Frost match, but it looks like things are going to get messy before we've even started, King. I have no idea where these guys came from..." "The reject shop?" King inquires with dry snideness. "But..." the Franchise continues. "It seems they have some business in the ring." Indeed, having battered their way past security, the group of misfits has found their way into the ring. With Craven at their head and his four associates flanking him, they look out at the massive crowd, who instantly starts booing. They came here to see Genesis, not a band of wrestling rejects. Finally, the former King of Nightmares clears his throat, while his companions pace about the ring. Eventually, the mass of boos dies down, at least to the point where Craven is actually capable of speaking and being heard at the same time. His voice is unamused, one could almost say harsh. "I can't believe you're going to be watching this!" he snarls. "Is he... dissing Genesis?" Mak asks his partner with a raised eyebrow. "Hell if I know." answers the Gambling Man. "But at least he's getting heat for it." "I mean, look at yourselves." the former King of Nightmares continues. "You're here, at Genesis. At the biggest SWF show in the history of the federation. And instead of being exposed to wrestling first off, you're exposed to retardation and stupidity! Ian? Larkin? That washed up bag of bones the Boston Strangler!? What makes you people buy this sort of crap instead of wanting real wrestlers like me! Like Cutthroat, and Blazenwing, and my other friends here!?" "...the top of the card?" the Franchise quips dryly. "Tom." King adds with a sage nod. "Definitely Tom." "I mean, don't be ridiculous! You people wouldn't know good ratings if they bit you in the ass! And I don't care what security thinks - none of us do! We're not leaving this ring until this grave crime against wrestlers is removed from the card! Peters, get your ass out here! You're going to replace that foolishness with a match! A match with ME! And my associates here!" There's no response from the backstage area. "Peters, I'm..." While it's not possible for the arena to go completely black given the open roof and the stars above, it nevertheless gets very dark. All the lights in the arena have shut down, leaving only moonlight and camera flashes to illuminate the darkness. A deep voice resounds over the speakers, but it is in no language that the human mind is capable of understanding or deciphering. But that isn't so much of a problem, as the Smarktron - both the one on the face side, and the one on the heel side - offer a translation in flowing white text, with red smoke already rising in front of the entranceways. Thy next opponent is madness twinned; the forces of chaos and destruction combined. As the heavy riffs of a guitar echo from the speakers, the fans began to look at both entrances with more than a little curiousity. In the ring, Craven and company are also doing so, with the King of Nightmares looking supremely satisfied that he'll get his match. A black silhouette fills the red smoke on the left-hand entrance, and then the crowd cheers a little louder as one also appears at the right-hand entrance, almost perfectly mirrored. Then the song begins, and while people don't recognise it, its words portend doom. For the song is by Amon Amarth - specifically 'When Silent Gods Stand Guard'. The last head falls to the ground. No one is left alive. They thought that they could take us down. But it's not our time to die... The red smoke clears as the black silhouettes stride through it, causing the crowd to explode with cheers as spotlights track their paths towards the ring. For striding in from the face side, flick-scythe over his shoulder and a grim expression on his face, comes the Black Angel, Aecas. This in itself would be intimidating if not for the entrance of another colossus on the heel side, with glittering red eyes, a long white trenchcoat, and a rather psychotic demeanour. The Black Angel would be trouble enough, without the Hell Machine also present. Ten men are dead by our feet. We smell their steaming blood. And we smile, cause it makes us... Makes us feel so good. "Well, THIS is a development." the Franchise comments. "I loved Craven and all, but with these two psychopaths coming out, I don't think I'd throw my lot in with him." "Wise words, King." Mak agrees. "It seems they believe in Craven for SOME reason though..." The Franchise speaks the truth, as Craven looks left and right, and yells at his associates. They glance at each other, then at the approaching giants, and nod. Blazenwing and Cutthroat immediatley bail out on the left, and rush at the Black Angel. Kinxx and Tokyo X on the other hand dive out the right hand side and charge up the ramp at the approaching Hell Machine. The first person to reach them is dropped like a sack of stones - Aecas nails Blazenwing with a hellacious Decapitator, and Janus sends Mark Kinxx to the ramp with a vicious Knuckle Bomb. It seems their advance is not to be stopped, even as Cutthroat and Tokyo X respectively throw themselves at their opponents with a barrage of punches. And then a set of low blows. That gets a reaction from both giants most definitely as they cringe slightly and bend a little, enough to bring their faces within striking range. On the Black Angel's side of the ring, Cutthroat begins to hammer him with right hands, while Tokyo X on the other hand begins smacking the Hell Machine's face from side to side a serious of backhands. Their hammering blows are both stopped mid-assault by hands clamping around their throats, and in almost perfect unison the two behemoths lift the troublemakers high and brutally chokeslam them on the steel ramp. The crowd's cheering is almost deafening at this point, as Michael Craven finds himself alone in the ring with both colossi staring at him as they approach. "It seems the former King of Nightmares' grand plan hasn't gone off the way he wanted it to, King." "Thank you for stating the obvious, Francis." the Gambling Man responds dryly. "There probably won't be much left of poor Craven after this." "Now who's being the obvious one?" As the two monsters roll in on either side of the ring, the former King of Nightmares darts back and forth to kick and stomp at them both, trying to force them away long enough for him to make his own escape. But Aecas puts a stop to that, catching Craven by the leg and yanking hard to trip him up, prompting another pop from the crowd as the two collosal figures stand tall in the ring. Security is already emerging to drag off the fallen associates of Michael Craven, who begins to rise to his feet and finds the two seven footers staring down at him ominously. The Hell Machine and the Black Angel look at each other for a long moment over their frightened quarry's head. Then Aecas slams a knee into Craven's abdomen and hoists him up, the crowd cheering loudly before the Black Angel brings him down on his head and shoulders with a violent Executioner! "RRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" But they're not done yet. Looking down at the broken Craven, Janus smiles, and murmurs something to Aecas before shrugging off his shoulders and making a lumbering run for the ropes behind the Black Angel. The crowd begins to rise to its feet, realising they're about to see a move that hasn't been performed in years. As the Hell Machine hits the ropes and comes back, Aecas shifts his grip on Craven's body and falls backwards in a catapulting motion, throwing the former King of Nightmares through the air.... and DIRECTLY into the path of the stampeding Hell Machine's GORE, completing the colossal move known as the... "SOUL CRUSHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" King hollers, before clapping his hands over his mouth in surprise. "Fan, much?" Francis grins, poking fun at his commentating partner." "Low blow from someone who couldn't FEEL a low blow." the Gambling Man snaps back. The Franchise's retort is lost in the cheering of the crowd, as the two colossal figures hoist the dead weight of Michael Craven over the ropes to the outside, then roll out of the ring as the sound of Amon Amarth fills the air once more. The two giants glance over their shoulders at each other with grim smiles, the Hell Machine adjusting his coat and the Black Angel picking up his flick-scythe in mid-step, before they turn away and walk up the ramp. As the cameras cut to commercial - to clean up before Ian/Larkin, of course - the sound of the song is very audible. The last vision is of the two giants walking back through the red smoke of their respective entranceways, with Amon Amarth roaring in the background. We take the skulls to our shrines Where silent gods stood guard... ~Fin.~

SWF FROST PRE-PPV SHOW SINGLES MATCH Ian vs. Larkin Special Guest Referee: THE BOSTON STRANGLER~! Very few people in the SWF can claim to be undefeated. There's ELK... There's Mr. Galatea (all his losses were still moral victories)... And then, there's Ian. A few years back, for one night only, Longdogger Pete's son Ian competed in the SWF, and in an upset on par with Ash Ketchum defeating Chris Raynor in the G2 Tournament (JUMPING MEW DRIVAAAAAAH), the pint-sized wunderkind took down none other than The Boston Strangler. Since then, Ian has been pressed on numerous occasions to defend his undefeated streak, but the time and place were never right - that is, until Joseph Peters offered him Genesis. Thrilled with the idea of making his grand return at G7, Ian readily accepted the challenge - but the odds are not in his favor. First, his opponent - Larkin. Akira Kaibatsu's little sister. Same number of syllables as Ian, but twice as many letters - a clear advantage. No one has ever seen her wrestle and live to tell about it. Mainly because no one has ever seen her wrestle at all, but that will make her all the more difficult to predict. And under the tutelage of The Divine Wind... there's no telling what kind of fight she'll be bringing to the match. Second - never content to leave well enough alone (and also attempting to fill the retiree appearances quota for Genesis), Peters tracked down The Boston Strangler, and offered him a one night gig as the special referee! Has TBS made peace with his loss, or will he take every opportunity he can to hold the man (er, boy) down? This match will be fought under standard singles match rules.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SWF GENESIS VII Live, Monday, September 18th, from the Rogers Centre at Skydome in Toronto, Canada! (7pm PST, 10pm EST; check local listings) (Send all promos/marked matches to chirs3) -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT/CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH Michael Stephens © vs. Tom Flesher © They have a combined total of 20 titles won. They were both named Heel of the Year. They were both named World Champion of the Year. They were both named Wrestler of the Year. Both men have left their mark on the federation - both will be remembered as winners, as champions, and as legends... But after tonight, only one of them will be remembered as the best. This match will be fought under standard singles match rules. Send your match to janusd. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SWF INTERNATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH - OLD SCHOOL RULES Bruce Blank © vs. "The Dean of Professional Wrestling" Jay Hawke After Bruce Blank won the International Championship Open Invitiational, Joseph Peters tried desperately to convert him into a man worthy of the belt. Whether or not he has succeeded is open for debate, but Blank must be doing something right, as over a month later he's still going strong. But that might be about to change. Bruce said a while ago that his International Title Reign would make people say "Jay Who?" But it seems like Jay Hawke has taken issue with that! The longest reigning International Champion in SWF History has clashed with Bruce on more that one occasion in recent weeks, and he managed to come out on top both times! And with Bruce's expertise being geared more towards the Hardcore end of the spectrum, Hawke's self-selected Pure Rules will only heighten the challenge for Blank to retain his title. Then again, Bruce is no stranger to record setting title reigns, and now that he's found a home in the International Division, odds are he will do anything to stay on top there. This match will be fought under Old School Rules. Two out of three falls, with a 60 minute time limit. Each wrestler has three rope breaks per fall. Throwing an opponent over the top rope is an immediate disqualification, and disqualifications and countouts WILL result in a title change! Send your match to Evolution. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- GRUDGE MATCH Wildchild vs. Mike Van Siclen We already knew that Wildchild was a force to be reckoned with in the ring, but ever since Mike Van Siclen returned, we've seen a new side of this Bahaman - a side that excels at psychological warfare. Having driven MVS nearly to the brink of insanity (having pulled some pranks worthy of Midnight Carnival itself), these two will finally meet in the match Wildchild has been itching for - and the match Mike Van Siclen has been desperately trying to avoid! This match will be fought without countouts, and without disqualifications. Send your match to Longdogger_Pete. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- CAGE MATCH Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix © vs. "The Beast" Gabriel Drake Gabriel Drake has been an unsettling presence ever since his debut in the SWF. He has beaten everyone the bookers have thrown at him, and has his eyes set squarely on our World Champion. There is history there, but Landon Maddix doesn't care much for history, and he went out on a limb to get a match with Drake, in the hopes of shutting him down. Instead, he was jumped backstage, beaten into a bloody mess, and left as an example for all future opponents. Despite his partner's warnings, Maddix demanded this rematch, and JP was more than happy to oblige. More epicness to come... This match will be fought inside a 15 foot high steel cage. Bars, not the wussy fence kind. The first man to score a pinfall or submission, or to successfully escape the cage and plant both feet firmly on the ground, will be the winner. Send your match to Evolution. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- FIRST BLOOD MATCH Johnny Dangerous vs. Charlie "Grappler" Matthews One of the all time SWF greats, Johnny Dangerous, made his return to the SWF last Smarkdown. He was set to compete against Main-Event Mainstay Tom Flesher, in what many predicted would be a Match of the Year candidate. But a combonation of Johnny's eagerness and Tom's lack thereof led to the match being called off, but not before Charlie Matthews got involved. Johnny's chance to upstage the #1 Contender was lost, and now he's out for blood. But with Tom engaged in the Main Event, Johnny will have to settle for someone else's blood: Charlie Matthews'. This match will be fought under First Blood rules - the first man to cause his opponent to bleed is the winner. The referee must see the blood in order to end the match. Send your match to chirs3. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SWF HARDCORE CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH Jimmy the Doom © vs. The Crimson Skull Where do I even begin? The short version would be that The Crimson Skull has kidnapped Lois the Unethical, and rather than call the police and let the authorities sort this thing out, Joseph Peters has convinced these two to settle it at Genesis, with the Hardcore Title on the line! Jimmy's no slouch in the hardcore department, but The Crimson Skull is a dastardly villain indeed, and is sure to have more tricks up his sleeve that simply dangling Lois above a shark tank. It's a race against time - for the life of a beautiful woma... well, a woman... and for the SWF Hardcore Championship! This match will be fought under... some very bizarre rules. Lois the Unethical will be suspended 100 feet above the ring - I'm sorry, I mean above the shark tank. Jimmy the Doom and The Crimson Skull will begin the match deep undergound, beneath the arena. In order to win the match, retain his title, and save the girl, Jimmy the Doom must reach the controls to free Lois before she is lowered into the shark tank (roughly one hour). If The Crimson Skull is able to stop him from reaching the controls, he will become the Hardcore Champion (and a murderer ). Send your match to Longdogger_Pete. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP #1 CONTENDERS MATCH "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins vs. "The Divine Wind" Akira Kaibatsu Two of the federation's top Cruiserweights clash for a shot at the title on AftershoxxxXXxxXXx! Both men will undoubtedly be bringing their A-Game for Genesis, but for these two, it's going to go well beyond this show! The winner of this match will face the winner of tonight's Main Event on AftershoxxXxXXx, for the Cruiserweight title! And THEN they'll be defending against The Unique Youth, Zyon, who won a shot at the title on Smarkdown! Tonight is not the end of their chase for Cruiserweight gold - befitting the name of Genesis, tonight, their journey begins. This match will be fought under standard singles match rules, with the Cruiserweight addenda: it is illegal to throw your opponent over the top rope, and the count on the outside is extended to 20. Send your match to chirs3. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- MYSTERY MATCH "Deathwish" Danny Williams vs. ??? When people issue open challenges, we pay attention. When DANNY FREAKIN' WILLIAMS issues an open challenge, the line of competitors wanting to accept usually wraps around whatever arena we're in. Twice. Danny's invitation for Genesis 7 was accepted immediately, but his opponent has yet to reveal him or her-self publically! We're not even sure Danny himself knows! This match will be fought under standard singles match rules. Send your match to Ace309. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- FATAL FOURWAY ELIMINATION MATCH The Scion of Light vs. Scotty "The Crush" Raina vs. MANSON vs. Scott Rageheart Two newcomers make their debut - what better time than Genesis? There will be no Ced Ordonez's or Martin Hunt's to boost their ego. The Scion of Light and Scott "The Crush" Raina will compete against each other in their debut match, but not ONLY against each other! Two SWF veterans, who have fallen on hard times in recent weeks, will get to play welcoming committee, and try to turn their luck around. Will one of our newbies steal the show, and the Genesis spotlight? This match will be fought under Elimination Rules, with two persons in the ring at any given moment. The other two will stand in their respective corners, and can be tagged in or out at any time. Eliminations can occur via pinfall, countout, submission, or disqualification. Send your match to Divefire. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- TWO OUT OF THREE FALLS MATCH "The Unique Youth" Zyon vs. JJ Johnson Two long-time rivals will clash one final time, on the biggest stage of them all. Their history stands at 4-3, in favor of the Unique Youth, who definitely has a momentum boost coming into this match, having just defeated The Birdman in singles competition! JJ's recent exploits have been far less noteworthy, and some are beginning to question whether or not he's still got "it". What better time and place to find out than Genesis? This match will be fought to two out of three falls, with a 30 minute time limit. Send your match to Ace309. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SWF FROST PRE-PPV SHOW SINGLES MATCH Ian vs. Larkin Special Guest Referee: THE BOSTON STRANGLER~! Very few people in the SWF can claim to be undefeated. There's ELK... There's Mr. Galatea (all his losses were still moral victories)... And then, there's Ian. A few years back, for one night only, Longdogger Pete's son Ian competed in the SWF, and in an upset on par with Ash Ketchum defeating Chris Raynor in the G2 Tournament (JUMPING MEW DRIVAAAAAAH), the pint-sized wunderkind took down none other than The Boston Strangler. Since then, Ian has been pressed on numerous occasions to defend his undefeated streak, but the time and place were never right - that is, until Joseph Peters offered him Genesis. Thrilled with the idea of making his grand return at G7, Ian readily accepted the challenge - but the odds are not in his favor. First, his opponent - Larkin. Akira Kaibatsu's little sister. Same number of syllables as Ian, but twice as many letters - a clear advantage. No one has ever seen her wrestle and live to tell about it. Mainly because no one has ever seen her wrestle at all, but that will make her all the more difficult to predict. And under the tutelage of The Divine Wind... there's no telling what kind of fight she'll be bringing to the match. Second - never content to leave well enough alone (and also attempting to fill the retiree appearances quota for Genesis), Peters tracked down The Boston Strangler, and offered him a one night gig as the special referee! Has TBS made peace with his loss, or will he take every opportunity he can to hold the man (er, boy) down? This match will be fought under standard singles match rules. Send your match to chirs3.

ATTENCION`. The rest of the matches now have markers, and some of the markers got shuffled to different matches. And now, I move out. Should be picking up a wireless card today so I'll be back online in no time. If not... well... uh... Good luck! *runs away*

PPV of the Year Award ---> Ramadomination ---> From the Fire ---> Clusterfuck The Mayor McCheese Comedic Moment of the Year Award ---> Straight bread. If that can be considered a "moment". If not, then the "Jimmy on the SWF Message Boards" promos. The Blazenwing Memorial Trophy - For 'Tool' of the Year ---> We haven't really had any outstanding tools this year... not that I can recall, anyway.

Can do.

Most markers have been edited in - however, I would like to avoid making any of our regulars (myself included ) pull triple duty, so I'm working on securing a few more. Those should be edited in by tomorrow night.

Yes, that poster is JJ's doing. I actually said no to it a while ago when he first showed it to me, but it kind of started growing on me. I really do like it. Markers will be edited in...... TONIGHT.

Most everyone already knows what they're doing for Genesis - those that don't will soon, as I'll PM you what we've got. In any event, Smarkdown's not ready yet, so the G7 card may be delayed. We'll be pushing the show back to Monday Night to make up for the time. Sowwy.

Also, please ignore the date on the poster. It's Monday the 18th.

Photobucket is down, so I can't put up the picture I MS Painted so wonderfully. Here's the gist of the set design: The roof will be open for the duration of the show. The ring will be where second base is. The rest of the outfield and infield will be taken up by floor seating, except for the two entrance ramps. The main Smarktron will be hanging down from the open roof you see in the picture. It will be oval-shaped, and it will cover most of that space. Faces will enter from the left corner of the outfield, heels from the right. Both sides will have complete sets and stages, with their own Smarktrons, ramps, pyro setups, etc., just like regular shows. The ramps will stand taller than usual, and will extend almost the entire way to the ring - walking down the ramp, you will be above the fans until just a few yards away from the ring. You can use whatever sort of "theme" or decor you want the sets to have. Go nuts.

Show's finally up. Cranking out descriptions for the Card. Should be up within the hour.

"Ladies and gentlemen, THIS is your main event of SWF Smarkdown! Scheduled for one fall, it is for the SWF WOOORLD Tag Team Championships!" "Alright!" chirps King, surprisingly upbeat at the prospect of a Stephens/Maddix match. TEN NINE "And the countdown is on." "The countdown to the total annihilation of those Two Skinny White Guys!" cheers King, announcing just why he's so upbeat. FOUR THREE Cut to the crowd and to a conveniently placed "HEY BUSH, BLAIR, WE FOUND THEM!" sign in the front row... TWO ONE ZERO A huge mushroom cloud of smoke plumes up over the entrance way as the countdown concludes and when the dust clears, the intimidating frames of the challengers appear. On the left, Bruce Blank is first to move, swaggering down the ramp with his brother Wayne cheering him on. Beside him is probably the biggest man in SWF history, Nemesis, flanked by Professor William Attenborough. "Introducing first tonight, the challengers! Being accompanied to the ring by Professor William Attenborough and Wayne Blank... at a total combined weight of seven hundred, five pounds... the team of "THE HAND OF THE GODS", NEMESIS and the SWF International Champion, "THE REDNECK SUPERMAN" BRUCE BLANK... they are THE WEAPONS OF MASS DESSSSSSTTRRRRRUUUUCCTTIIIIOOOOOONN!!!!" "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" The monstrous duo make their respective ways into the ring, Bruce confidently winding up his Lariating arm as his masked partner clambers in over the top rope. Towering over everybody, including his six foot eight teammate, Nemesis is given some last minute instructions from Attenborough, who has apparently transformed his life to become an expert on the finer arts of professional wrestling. Good for him. "Yikes," is all Mak can seem to muster, looking up into the ring. "What's that cute little rhyme Mak, 'bring your daughter to the slaughter'? Well, I don't know if Landon's momma drove him here tonight or not, but after what happened on Lockdown and what Bruce and Nemesis are going to do tonight, he'd best keep his VIP pass in hand when he leaves, because she certainly won't recognise him." "A burn and casting aspersions over Landon's gender. You're on fire tonight, King." "I'm excited!" says King, excitedly. "Tonight's gonna be the night! Maddix at 100% is barely worth mention and he's far from that due to Gabriel Drake. Which leaves Michael Stephens to carry the load against two huge, dominating competitors. And so close to Genesis VII too. Oh, it's too glorious Mak. The flippy-floppy cruisers of this place are FINALLY getting their comeuppance from the monster brigade!" "You've counted Stephens and Maddix out before King and usually, you've been wrong. The odds on paper may be stacked, but I guarantee you, tonight the 'Guys will be intent on proving they are indeed men." "Uh-huh, that's my shit All you girls stomp your feet like this 'Few times I've been around that track But it's not just gonna happen like that Cause there ain't no hollaback girl, there ain't no hollaback girl!" "You were saying?" "Oh sweet Jesus." As the undoubtedly bumping beats of "Hollaback Girl" by Gwen Stefani pump through the Ivor Wynne Stadium's P.A system, the crowd aren't sure whether to laugh, cheer or reach up through their noses and tug their brains from their head with their bare hands, then stomp on it a little before finally devouring it and dying. Luckily for profits, they choose a mixture of 1 and 2, as the Champions emerge. Landon is still showing signs of the beating he took five days ago, his forehead bandaged up for precaution as much as anything. But still he finds time to mug for the crowd, Megan applauding in the background. Storming past are the Stephens siblings, Mike looking about ready to commit harikiri at being forced to enter to this song while Amy just chugs on her beer. "And their opponents, accompanied by Amy Stephens and Megan Skye. Weighing in at a total combined weight of four hundred and forty two pounds... they are the reigning and defending SWF WORLD Tag Team Champions. The team of LANDON "LA CUCARACHA" MADDIX and the SWF World Heavyweight Champion, MICHAEL STEPHENS... THHHEEEEEE GGAAAALLAAACCTTIIIIICCOOOOOOOSSSS!!!" "YYEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" "Well, a new team name for Stephens and Maddix." "Eh, they'll always be little more than Two Skinny White Guys to me, Mak." "That said, the Champions come in tonight with a huge weight disadvantage, a huge height disadvantage and with Landon Maddix not in top condition. With Michael Stephens' mind all over the place right now, there may be no better time for The WoMD to receive a shot at the tag straps." Teeth gritted and his eyes rolling, Stephens rolls into the ring and pops up to find Blank and Nemesis standing over him. Wisely Mike backs away and calls referee Hardcastle in to keep the opponents back until the bell goes. Stephens then turns to Maddix and yells at him to hurry up, mostly because the music is driving him frikkin' nuts. But apparently Landon is quite digging it, even playing air trombone as he climbs the steps. "It's a pity they found another team-name," muses King, "I've come up with the perfect one. Queer Eye For The Queer Guy." "That's cute." Landon takes one look into the ring and decides against his usual entrance, retreating back down the steps and staying on the outside of the ring to converse with Megan. Understandably, Stephens doesn't like this. But Landon points out the bandage on his forehead, giving him a good excuse not to start against either of the big bad opposition. To be fair, Stephens knows he's right. Which makes the fact he's distracted and therefore jumped from behind by Bruce Blank all the more frustrating. "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" "Bruce, before the bell!" groans Mak. "Always one to take the cheap route when possible and no different tonight!" *DING-DING-DING!* With typical ruthlessness Bruce keeps on clubbing with the forearms as Nemesis is pointed to his corner by Hardcastle, already in danger of losing control as Bruce lays on a blatant choke! "ONE!" "TWO!" "THR..." Bruce breaks the choke...but clamps it right back on as soon as the count is broken! "ONE!" "TWO!" "THRE..." Another break from the International Champion, something which he would consider clean wrestling. He now brings Stephens up to his feet and with a snarl on his face, the roughneck Redneck Superman grabs at Stephens' customised England soccer (it's football, damnit!) shirt, TEARING it to shreds to the dismay of the two girls in heavy eyeliner in the front row. "Those bints won't be fighting over the shirt this week," smiles King. Now shirtless, Stephens tries to create some distance for himself as he kicks out at Blank, rolling backwards and to his feet, at which point he explodes into life. Stephens pounces forward, leaping into Bruce's arms and peppering him with right hands, which Bruce sees as an annoyance, shoving Stephens away in frustration. Stephens comes right back at his burly opponent though, still swinging and managing to not look too out of his depth. At least, until Bruce shoves him off again, sending him plummeting to the canvas. Wisely the World Champion realises he can't keep the upperhand for long with this tactic and as he gets to his feet, he plays a little cat and mouse. His pause prompts Bruce to lunge on the attack. Stephens rolls under his sprawling arms though, through to a charge to the ropes. Around lumbers Blank, already pissed at the cruiserweight tendencies of his opponent, even before Stephens fires out at his knee with a patented soccer tackle! "This is what Stephens and Maddix have to do tonight," Mak calls, "they have to use their speed and agility to out-fox their larger opponents." Bruce's right leg shoots out from underneath him and he only just plants his hands in time to avoid faceplanting into the canvas. However, he might have been better going down because as he stands Stephens kips up right next to him, springing up and firing a big enziguri into the back of Bruce's head! "YYEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!" "Kip-up Enziguri! There's some agility, from the man who could be the next Cruiserweight Champion at Genesis VII!" cheers Mak, drawing a low growl from his announce partner. Fired up, Mike goes with what's working and hits the ropes again. Bruce is still up on his feet and shakes off the kick as Stephens skids across the canvas with another soccer tackle... ...but Bruce is able to thwart that attempt, lifting his leg over the sliding Sensation and as he comes to a stop, down comes the foot, stomping Stephens right in the base of the spine! "Ha! They don't have that in soccer!" cheers King, clapping his hands with childish glee. "You've never been to England, have you?" Smiling away, Bruce grabs hold of Mike's blue-black hair and with his typical disdain for cruiserweight athletes he just tosses him face-first into the WoMD corner. Stephens ends up slumped in the corner, and things are only going to get worse as Bruce gladly extends a hand and allows his partner to tag in. "Oh boy, here we go!" King cheers. "Nemesis in with the World Champion, boasting a foot and four inch height advantage and almost TWO hundreds pounds in weight!" Coming in over the top rope, Nemesis wastes no time in displaying his amazing power by lifting Stephens from a seated position and to his feet in one, clean movement. Pressing him against the turnbuckles, lifting his hand overhead and bringing it CLUBBING down across the chest of Stephens! That quickly, Stephens is right back down on his ass in the corner; he doesn't stay there for long though, as again he's hauled up by Nemesis and again, The Hand Of God comes crashing down upon him! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" "YEAH!" Bruce crows. "HOW'DYA LIKE THAT, PURTY BOY?" The answer to that would be "no sir, I don't like that much at all", although maybe not in so many words, Stephens already feeling it from the heavy-handed strikes. Grabbing some hair Nemesis brings Stephens back up again and the size difference now becomes completely apparent as The Colossus reaches down, scooping the World Champion up over his shoulders and simply pressing him down with a slam! A simple move, but evidently effective, Stephens nursing the 7'4" fall as he starts to crawl across the ring in search of the tag. Nemesis puts a stop to that in a hurry though, pinning Stephens down by treading on his trailing ankle, then leaving the mat to deliver an elbow drop to the spine... ...but despite barely making it into the air, he still comes down slowly enough for Stephens to roll to safety! "YYEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!" "Again, the speed advantage coming into play," Mak points out. Stephens is back to his feet, but it's nowhere near as nimbly as earlier and he's immediately forced to stretch out his back, feeling it from the big slam. Nemesis looks angry more than anything as he rises and stalks after The Sensation. Not one to back down from a fight, Stephens is waiting on him, firing off a kick to the gut. That barely shakes the monster, so Stephens tries again, before adding in a more karate-esque thrust kick. Nemesis is still yet to double over and understandably, that isn't filling Michael Stephens with a whole lot of confidence right now. Stephens opts for a different mode of attack this time and shoots for the legs, attempting a takedown reminiscent of one Tom Flesher. Only, his usually work. Arms wrapped around the legs, Stephens pushes and pulls but he makes absolutely no progress. And Nemesis eventually puts Stephens out of his misery, bringing The Hand Of God down across Stephens' spine! "The Hand Of God, a touchy subject with Englishmen." "Nevermind that," snaps King, "point out the fact that that was embarrassingly bad amateur wrestling from our World Champion! He's going to get schooled at Genesis, that's a prime example of why." "To be fair, Tom Flesher isn't seven foot four, four hundred ten pounds." Hooking up the arm, Nemesis now takes his time in pulling the World Champ up. Maddix is watching on intently but as the masked man glares in his direction he magically spots someone in the crowd he recognises, conveniently allowing him to avoid eye contact with the monster. But Nemesis can smell the fear. Still with Stephens, Nemesis takes a sidestep and beils him up into the air for a giant hiptoss... ...only for Stephens to flip through, landing on his feet! Stephens jumps, landing a dropkick...which doesn't put Nemesis down, but does buy Stephens time to tag out to Landon. "YYEEEEEAAAAAHHHHHH!" "And a cheer for Landon Maddix!?" Mak says, almost tripping over his words in disbelief. "Well, it IS Canada." As Landon steps into the ring, his partner begins to leave and seek a well earned breather. But Landon doesn't much fancy taking on the 7 foot plusser on his own and pulls Stephens back in by the arm, calling for a double team. Stephens sighs but shrugs his shoulder in acceptance. If he thought the double-team involved Landon hopping to the middle rope, then sitting himself on his shoulders, he might have said no. "Oh, wait a minute...so much for the height advantage!" "You've got to be kidding me..." groans King. "Hey, it works in Scooby Doo." A ridiculous sight indeed, Landon has come up with a 'cunning' plan to combat the size difference. On Michael's shoulders, he hovers a good few feet above Nemesis. Even so, Stephens protests from underneath him but Landon points forward and yells at Stephens to walk towards Nemesis, who has turned around. And even he has to stop and look confused for a moment. And that confusion allows Stephens time to waddle within striking distance, allowing Landon to do that, firing off a forearm to the face! "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" "Oh, come ON!" King groans once more. Bruce and Wayne are going nuts on the floor, protesting at how unfair this all is, as Landon fires another forearm down from his perch to the top of Nemesis' head. The fact he's carrying 220 pounds does Stephens' back no further favours though and he shouts up at his partner to quit fooling around. But in that time, Nemesis has shaken off the blows and comes back on the attack, landing a Big Boot on Stephens... *WHAM!* ...which causes him to drop Landon with an Electric Chair! "OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" "Another brilliant idea from the mind of Maddix." sneers King. Having seen enough wackiness from (one of) the Tag Champions, Bruce now comes in and pitches Michael Stephens to the floor. Meanwhile, his partner has hold of Landon and ignores his pleas for mercy, lifting him under the armpits and hoisting him high into the air, over with a hard thud into a neutral set of turnbuckles! On orders from Attenborough, Nemesis steps aside as Bruce comes charging, CRUSHING Landon in the corner with an Avalanche. Wringing the arm, Bruce then sends Landon back into his partner's direction with an irish whip, Nemesis lifting up a boot and simply allowing Maddix to run face-first into it, almost flipping him inside out! "I'm not sure how many stitches or even what type of stitches Landon has," begins Mak, "but whatever treatment he did get after Lockdown, he can't take too many of them before that cut becomes re-opened." "And believe me, with Bruce in the ring, that will be exactly the challengers' intention." King smiles. "You know how sadistic he is. Sure, he's the International Champion now, a fine old school competitor, but deep down that meanstreak is still boiling over inside." Bruce retreats to his corner to get Hardcastle off of his back, but it's only in order to accept a legal tag from Nemesis. Stepping in with a swagger in his step, Bruce stalks around the fallen Cucaracha, waiting for him to look back up...before SLUGGING him right in the head, putting him flat on his face! "OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" "No technical prowess there," calls Mak, "that's just a right hand aimed right at that cut!" Landon is in a bad way. And Bruce knows it, giving the World Champion a touch of the badmouth before nonchalantly swinging his leg out, dropping it across the back of Landon’s head! Landon's body jerks up from the force, causing Stephens to wince from the TSWG corner. "WHITEEEEEEEEE TRASH!" "WHITEEEEEEEEE TRASH!" "WHITEEEEEEEEE TRASH!" "Now, who is it that calls themselves Two Skinny White Guys?" King protests, as the crowd turn volatile. "Pretty much just Landon. But that doesn't mean he's trash." "I beg to differ." All too used to the chants, Blank doesn't seem too concerned, as he drops another big legdrop across the neck of Maddix. Nonchalantly, Bruce then tips Maddix onto his back, leaning on top with a casual cover... ONE! TWO! No! “They call Landon ‘The Cockroach’ for a reason,” Mak exclaims, “he’s very hard to kill, but Bruce and Nemesis are on the right lines!” “Thank God.” God probably isn’t taking responsibility for Bruce’s actions but the Redneck Superman hauls Landon up again and hoists him over his head, then with a malicious grin on his face he starts pressing his cruiserweight opponent. The crowd decline to count along, and after realising that no-one’s joining in the fun Bruce’s face takes on a sulky cast at number eight and he just drops Landon behind him. Then he rolls Maddix over with his boot and makes a cover by standing on the former World Champion’s chest… ONE! TWO!! …but Landon kicks out! “Come on,” Mak snorts, “you’re going to need a better cover than that to keep Maddix down; annoying and immature he most certainly is, but he’d have to pretty much be out cold for that to work.” “Good point,” King agrees, “Bruce! Hit the spotmonkey in the head!” It’s unclear whether Bruce heard the Gambling Man, but he seems fairly eager to comply anyway and hauls Landon up off the mat again. He then reaches out one hand and gets a tag from Nemesis (not difficult, considering their combined reach they can tag from pretty much the centre of the ring), then fires Landon off the ropes. The dazed Maddix is unable to take much evasive action and he runs headfirst into a Blank roadblock as the International Champion hoists his opponent up, then slams him down with a spinebuster… “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” …just in time for Nemesis to land an elbowdrop! “Hah! Maddix was too dumb to move!” King gloats. “Well, Bruce did have hold of his legs,” Mak points out. “Picky, Francis, picky.” Nemesis makes a cover, although it mainly consists of sprawling across Maddix and waiting for Hardcastle to make the count… ONE! TWO!! THR- -but Landon kicks out! A low, rumbling growl emanates from somewhere under the monster’s mask and he grabs Maddix with the clawhold and brings him to his feet. Maddix woozily tries to take a couple of swings at the big man but Nemesis is holding him well out of reach and extends his other arm towards Bruce, back in the WoMD corner. The Redneck Superman responds and tags back in, prompting Nemesis to whip Landon into the ropes before standing next to his partner and raising their feet simultaneously to greet the onrushing Maddix with a stereo big boot! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Nemesis unhurriedly steps over the top rope to the outside and Bruce drops to make the cover… ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR- -broken up by a basement dropkick from Michael Stephens! “YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “Get him out of there!” King roars as Hardcastle gets up to do just that. Bruce looks up and glowers at Stephens, who flips the big man a v-sign as he exits the ring. This doesn’t worry the bigger Blank brother though, and he takes hold of Landon to pull the battered La Cucaracha upright once more. Once standing, albeit with Maddix sagging in his grasp, Bruce draws one thumb conspicuously across his throat to signal for ‘the end’ and hooks Maddix up as if for a vertical suplex. Bruce easily lifts Landon up for the Blank Bomb before shoving him off forwards for the sitout powerbomb… …and as he starts to fall Landon wraps his legs around Bruce’s head and jerks backwards to take the International Champion over with a Hurri-Lanrana! “YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “LET’S GO LAN-DON!” “LET’S GO LAN-DON!” “That’s some brilliant innovation by Landon!” Mak Francis exclaims, “but can he capitalise?” “No more than he can punctuate!” King fires back. “…OK, how long have you been waiting to use that one?” Landon’s inventive counter certainly took Bruce off-guard, but the Tag Champion isn’t able to get up quickly to get to the corner where Michael Stephens awaits. Instead Landon gets up to one knee and grabs the ropes to steady himself while he shakes his head, looking to clear it. Bruce gets up and heads for Landon, Maddix straightens then ducks under a swinging right hook, turns to face his opponent… “Argh!” …and both men simultaneously gouge their opponent in the eyes! “Never has the phrase ‘an eye for an eye’ been more true,” Mak opines. “That’s weak, Francis.” Landon staggers away, swiping at his eyes; Bruce does so as well, and as it clears he sees Michael Stephens looking at him from the apron. With a cunning plan suddenly springing to mind Blank accelerates forward, taking the World Champion by surprise and slamming into him with a running forearm that knocks him clean to the stadium floor! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Meanwhile Landon has found himself facing Nemesis, never a pleasant sight at the best of times. Maddix turns away from the WoMD corner, sees Bruce coming for him and rolls under the big man’s attempted lariat before rushing for his own corner… only to see his tag team partner lying on the floor with Amy Stephens trying to haul him upright! “Look out!” Megan shrieks, causing Landon to duck and roll to one side just as Bruce Blank thunders up behind him; the International Champion’s avalanche attempt fails and he crashes chest-first into the corner, missing Landon yet again. Maddix sees his chance and takes Blank over with a schoolboy, then places both his feet on the second rope… ONE! TWO!! TH- -but Bruce kicks out! Maddix grabs the rising Bruce with a cravate which prompts the crowd to groan in unison, but Landon quickly transitions into a position where he can kick Bruce repeatedly in the head as hard as he can! *SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMACK!* The crowd roar their approval at this side of Landon’s game and the Next Generation grins, then as Blank slumps to one knee Landon slaps his own right knee, turns and runs for the ropes… …and Nemesis lifts a long, long leg to kick Landon in the back as he hits the cables. Maddix staggers forward and drops to one knee himself, clutching his back, and Bruce gets up. The big man shakes his head to clear the cobwebs, focuses on Landon in a vulnerable position in front of him and lumbers forwards. It’s not clear exactly how he plans to do it, but what is apparent is that he’s intent on causing pain. Therefore, it’s just as well that Landon manages to overcome the pain he’s already in to rise back to his feet and leap up to catch the onrushing Bruce with a Dropsault! “YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Maddix lands hard and it’s clear that he’s jarred something, or maybe knocked the wind out of himself. Regardless, he looks towards his corner and sees the incredibly welcome sight of Michael Stephens standing there, the straight-edger looking slightly woozy still but back on his feet and wanting into the match. Maddix starts crawling… …Bruce grabs at Landon’s foot to try and stop him, but misses… …and Maddix makes the tag! “YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Michael Stephens vaults over the top rope, ready to exact some revenge; however, Professor Attenborough has realised that Bruce won’t be able to get back to the WoMD corner in time and directs Nemesis to cut Stephens off! The monster obediently steps over the top rope and raises a big (VERY big) boot to catch Mike in the face; unluckily for him the Sensation ducks clean under it (not much ducking required, if we’re honest), then runs up the turnbuckles in the WoMD corner and leaps off backwards. Nemesis turns to try and get a bead on his opponent, but is simply blasted in the chest by the Corkscrew Dropkick… …and doesn’t go down! “What!?” Mak yelps, “that took Nemesis square in the chest! It staggered him, but the monster is still on his feet!” However, Michael Stephens has other things on his mind; Bruce has got up, and in order to stop him from making a contribution to proceedings the World Champion is obliged to blast him in the head with a superkick. *SMACK!* Bruce is knocked back into the ropes and Stephens returns his attention to Nemesis, only to have the monster’s enormous arm snake out and fingers like bananas clamp around his head in the Claw! Stephens tries to reach the big man, but this proves to be a costly move as instead of keeping his opponent out of reach Nemesis actively draws Mike in, straight into a massive knee to the gut! The breath is blasted from the World Champion’s lungs but Stephens has just enough energy left to slam his foot down hard on Nemesis’ toes, causing the monster to grunt in pain, limp backwards and release the Claw. “Hey! Ugly!” Nemesis falls victim to the ‘you know your name then’ school of humour as he turns towards the source of the sound, which turns out to be Landon Maddix perched on the second buckle. Nemesis pauses for a moment, seemingly confused, and in that moment Landon leaps off with a spinning gamengiri… at exactly the same time as Stephens slides into the back of Nemesis’ legs with a soccer tackle! *THUMP!* “LET’S GO STE-PHENS!” “LET’S GO LAN-DON!” “He’s down! He’s finally down!” Mak shouts as Nemesis topples backwards and the crowd start up warring but appreciative chants for the two Galacticos. Professor Attenborough is having an apoplexy on the outside, while Wayne Blank is having something similar but with few syllables. “Get him out of the ring!” King roars, “make your five-count, Hardcastle!” “On who?” the Franchise demands, “Nemesis has been in there longer than Maddix!” “No-one asked you!” Sexton Hardcastle realises he’s virtually lost control of this match, but he doesn’t fancy trying to restore order at the moment with two massive monsters and two fired-up Galacticos in the ring, and settles for cowering in a corner and trying not to get hit. Meanwhile, Bruce Blank has got up again and, realising that with both Stephens and Maddix in the ring he’s not going to have the chance for anything fancy, uses the element of surprise to grab Landon and pitch the Cockroach out of the ring (between the top and middle ropes - see, Bruce pays attention in Clusterfucks, and knows about Landon’s cat-skinning abilities). Stephens kicks him in the gut and grabs a front facelock, presumably setting up for the Unfinished Business, but we’ll never know as Bruce wraps his arms around the straight-edger and hoists him off his feet, then drives forward to ram Stephens into a neutral corner! Nemesis is starting to get up now and Megan Skye hops up to the apron to protest to Hardcastle about his presence in the ring. Figuring that a blonde chick is easier to remove than a masked monster Sexton demands that she get down… and as his attention is distracted Landon, who didn’t land that hard on the outside, climbs to the top rope while Amy Stephens actually stirs herself and throws him a chair! “Look out-” Mak begins, but doesn’t get to finish it. Megan Skye grabs Sexton Hardcastle and applies the ol’ Figure-Four Liplock… and with the referee well and truly distracted, Landon comes off the top rope with a MASSIVE chairshot to Nemesis! *KER-RACK!* “YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “You cheating-” King roars before his mic is muted by the production truck. Nemesis drops and rolls out of the ring, partially from momentum and partly to presumably avoid further pain. Landon throws the chair out after him to avoid Hardcastle catching on, then turns his attention to Stephens and Blank. Bruce has his back to Landon and has hoisted Mike up over his shoulder for the Broken Dreams; just as he starts to run forward Maddix reaches up and grabs his partner’s legs, hauling Mike down off the International Champion and bringing Bruce up short with a puzzled expression on his face. He turns around and receives a double kick to the gut, then Stephens and Maddix turn around and each grab a ¾ headlock. They look at each other and nod. Then run forwards, towing Blank with them, running up the nearest set of turnbuckles and flipping backwards to drive the back of their opponent’s head into the canvas with Laberinto’s Sunny Revenge In England! *WHAM!* Megan has released Sexton; Mike makes the cover; Amy sits back down and swigs beer; Hardcastle drops to count, and Maddix stamps on Nemesis’ fingers as the monster tries to use the ring to pull himself up… ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! *DING-DING-DING!* “Ladies and gentlemen, here are your winners,” Funyon booms over the crowd roar, “and STILL~ SWF Tag Team Champions… THA GAAAAAAAAAA-LACTICOOOOOSSSSS!!” “They cheated! Damnit Francis, they cheated more than Bruce and Nemesis!” King yells. “Maddix cheated,” Mak points out, “well, and Megan and Amy; Mike didn’t do a thing wrong. I’m not saying it’s right King, but it worked.” “Just you wait!” King yells, “just wait ‘til Genesis, Toxxic! Tom’s gonna take your belt!” Michael Stephens doesn’t look unduly concerned. He slaps hands with Landon Maddix and the last shot is of the two men turning to leave the ring as we FADE OUT

“Bloody hell, Landon!” Three guesses who’s talking. “Oh no, let’s not look beyond the sodding Tag Title match,” Michael Stephens growls, glowering at his tag team partner, “Lord help us, let’s not do that! So, tell you what; instead of me facin’ Gabe, seeing as how I used to train with him an’ what have you and might actually have a friggin’ clue about who he is and what he does, why don’t you, the other half of our team, go in there and nearly get yer head taken off and yer leg broke cos you haven’t got a bloody idea what the man’s like!?” “You know, you could have warned me about him…” Landon mutters. “And say what?” Stephens enquires acidly, “warn you not to get so self-obsessed that you don’t notice when some psychotic bastard’s coming up behind you to cave yer skull in? Christ, I’d have thought that you might’ve worked that one out seeing as how you’ve been in the business for a couple of years. Sort of self-preservation, you might say.” “I’ve had worse that this,” Landon replies, “off you, actually.” He brushes past Mike to grab his boots, then pulls them on and starts lacing them up. “Bruce was pretty banged up after the Blood and THUNDER match, so it’s not like they’re fresh either. We’ll go out there and beat them, and then,” he continues, looking up at Stephens, “I might go and see Joe Peters again about your friend Gabe.” “If you’re thinking of doing what I think you might be thinking of doing,” Stephens begins, and cracks a grin as Landon’s forehead wrinkles with the effort of comprehension, “then you’d best think hard.” He sits down and looks his partner in the eyes. “See, I know what Gabe used to be like, but I don’t know all that much about him now. More than you, admittedly, but not a lot. I was his best friend four years ago, but since then I slept with his girlfriend, he’s killed someone, and been to jail for four years. I imagine that sort of thing changes someone.” "Wait, slept with his--you know what, nevermind." Landon begins to asks, but stops seeing his partner's face. “So what do you know?” Landon adds. Mike pulls a face at that. “Well, he’s a twenty-five year-old rookie. He was always a top prospect at the academy, but he’s been on ice for four years. He’s still getting back into the swing of things, I can see that. He won’t have the ring knowledge of someone like you or me, won’t have the instincts, probably won’t have the conditioning yet either. In a plain, vanilla match with no baggage, you or me should be able to take him.” “I figured on that, but where's the but?” Maddix adds. "There's always a but." “But Gabe was always good at getting in people’s heads,” Stephens shrugs. “Back in the day he’d be able to work out what your strengths and weaknesses were, what would throw you, what you’d be able to counter, that sort of thing. These days… well,” he sighs, “I wouldn’t put it past him to try some real mind games. Try and get you in a situation where the fact that he’s green won’t matter so much. Something to limit your advantages.” Stephens pauses, then grins. “So he might try and get you to agree to a wrestling match.” “Pot, kettle,” Landon grunts, standing up. “You going to make smart remarks all day, or come and help me defend our titles?” “You’re getting cranky in yer old age, Landon,” Stephens replies, standing up and grabbing his Tag Title and the World Title. “What happened to happy, bouncy Landon?” “He got hit in the head with a chair,” Maddix replies, “but don’t worry - the moment our music hits, I’m sure I’ll be alright!” “Yeah, what’re we coming out to tonight?” “Wait and see my friend, wait and see…”

And, backstage, SWF employees in the vicinity of Mike Van Siclen’s dressing room are suddenly startled by a loud burst of profanity: (BLEEP!)

Smarkdown returns with the House of Marvelous set ready to go in the middle of the ring. The luxurious suede couch and matching love seat have yet again been replaced, due to the unfortunate (for Sir Marvelous and Mike Van Siclen) turn of events at the end of last week’s episode of Lockdown. The one constant remains the arch, and the ever-present velvet rope. “It’s time for the next installment of the SWF’s newest hit,” says Mak Francis, “the House of Marvelous! And once again, King, we don’t have any idea who tonight’s guest is going to be!” “When I first heard the pitch for this, I though that it was going to flop for sure,” says the Suicide King. “But it’s been a ratings bonanza! It’s just too bad that the original contract was only for three episodes; hopefully Peters will realize that this thing is a cash cow and renew it after Genesis.” “Boy, you said it, King!” agrees Mak. “The Commissioner has GOT to keep this going after Genesis; the House of Marvelous is an excellent potential platform for our talent to introduce themselves to our fans! Let’s face it, King, you’ve got to have a lot of clout in this company in order to get that exclusive opening promo time, and if you’re not one of the Toxxic’s or Flesher’s or Maddix’s of the world, you could come up short… But with a show like the House of Marvelous, we now have a platform for ALL our talent to show whether or not they have the well-rounded game to take that next step as well!” With that, Notorious BIG’s “I Love the Dough” heralds the arrival of Michael Anderson, who limps out onto the stage, leaning heavily on his cane, and dressed in a black pinstriped suit. As always, Anderson is accompanied by the massive Tracey Bruner; the bodyguard is wearing a blood-red Armani, and a matching hat, his coal-black eyes obscured by sunglasses. “Who the hell wears sunglasses indoors?” jokes King. “And what’s with that suit? He looks like a 6’10” black Santa Claus!” “I tell you what, King,” laughs Mak, “why don’t YOU tell him that he looks like Santa Claus?” “No way!” replies King hastily. “YOU tell him; you’re ALREADY paralyzed!” “Ladies and gentlemen,” booms Funyon, “please welcome: Sir… Marvelous!” Marvelous’ ridiculously insincere smile threatens to crack his face in half, as he makes his way to the ring. He limps up the steel steps, and then waits on Bruner to get up to the apron and hold open the ropes for him before he enters the ring. Once inside, he then waits for Bruner to unhook the velvet rope before he passes through the arch and picks the microphone up from the stand as his music fades out. “Welcome,” drawls Anderson, “to the House of MAAAAARVELOUS! I am your host, Sir Marvelous, and once again, the House of Marvelous was the highest-rated segment of SWF programming last week, and for that, I thank each and every one of you!!” Some fans seemed pleased by this news and want to cheer, but to most others, it comes across as Anderson unnecessarily patting himself on the back, and they start booing. “My guest tonight has a few words to say about a match that you may have heard was just recently signed for Genesis…” YEAAAAAAAAAAH! “He also,” continues Anderson, “just recently revealed himself to be the alter ego of the Birdman…” YEAAAAAAAAAAH! “Aw no!” groans King. “Ladies and gentlemen,” finishes Marvelous, “please, show some love for… the Wildchild!” The fans begin to cheer wildly the lights cut out: RAAAAAAAAAAH! ATTENTION! ALL YOU NIGGAZ! ALL YOU BITCHES! TIME TO PUT DOWN THE CRISTAL, TIME TO TAKE OFF THE ICE FOR A MINUTE… TIME TO THROW A LITTLE MUD IN THIS MOTHERFUCKA… Hamilton erupts as Redman’s “Let’s Get Dirty” heralds the arrival of the Bahama Bomber! A solitary spotlight pierces the Ivor Wynne Stadium, flashing off and on in rhythmic time as the beat throbs melodiously. The cheers become even louder as the Bahama Bomber saunters out onto the stage, having changed completely out of the Birdman costume, and into street clothes. In his hand, he is holding a fairly thick collection of documents. “There he is!” shouts Mak. “One of the most anticipated returns of the year, as Wildchild officially comes back to the SWF. And King, you’ve got to believe that he’s got a lot to say!” WC makes his way down to the ring and somersaults between the bottom and middle ropes to enter the ring. He stands patiently in front of the velvet rope, and waits for Bruner to admit him before he takes his place besides Anderson. Wildchild looks out into the crowd as his music fades out, and the fans begin chanting for him: DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! Marvelous holds the microphone patiently for WC to make his opening remarks, but the Bahama Bomber takes another moment to gather himself emotionally before leaning into the microphone and saying: “So… what’s new?” DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! “Wildchild,” begins Marvelous, “Obviously, I already know the answer to my next question, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t get it on record: were you always the Birdman?” Wildchild looks at Anderson, and then looks out into the crowd before turning back towards the microphone to reply, “Oui!” “Alright then,” continues Marvelous. “And now for a question that I DON’T already know the answer to: why?” “Yeah,” cosigns King. “Cough it up, damn you! Why did you go through that charade for two years?” As if he hears King’s complaints, the Tropical Tumbler leans towards the microphone and answers, “It was about vengeance, pure an’ simple; I became de Birdman t’give myself a better chance t’get at Van Siclen… because he’s too much of a BITCH t’fight me face on!” YEAAAAAAAAAAH! “Okay Wildchild,” asks Marvelous, “and just what do you mean by that?” “Two years ago, Mike Van Siclen tried t’end my career,” explains Wildchild. “While I was recovering, I started to hear talk dat he was refusing t’fight me! He was goin’ around tellin’ people dat he wasn’ gon’ fight me because he didn’ have any’ting t’prove… Dat, as far as he was concerned, what he did t’me was in his past, an’ he wasn’ gon’ t’revisit his past for my benefit… An’ dat’s when I came up wit de idea t’come back under a disguise. “But den,” continues WC, “before I got a chance t’face him, he cheated me out of my revenge by leaving de SWF!” “Hey now,” admonishes Mak, “I think that Van Siclen is a twit as much as the next guy, but let’s be fair; he left the SWF because he lost a career match against Toxxic!” “And what’s with all these comebacks?” asks King idly. “Van Siclen is back after just two years, Dangerous is back after less than a year… what happened to when losing a career match meant that you kicked rocks and didn’t come back?” “So,” asks Anderson, “if you couldn’t convince Van Siclen to fight you, then how did you get him to change his mind?” “It took me a while before I figured out which buttons t’push wit’ him,” replies WC. “Like I said, I couldn’t get him t’fight me, an’ I didn’ have a belt dat I could use as bait… But, after weeks of studyin’ him, I finally figured out what makes him tick: Van Siclen has a bigger ego den any person ought t’have… He actually t’inks dat he’s God’s gift t’wrestlin’. I figured out dat de one t’ing dat he can’t stand is t’be publicly embarrassed, so I set about t’use de Birdman identity t’keep getting under his skin, until he finally snapped an’ gave me de match dat I’ve been wantin’ from him.” “And,” continues Marvelous, “I suppose it would be safe to say that it worked?” WC flashes his trademark grin. “You’re damned right it worked!” YEAAAAAAAAAAH! “I got dat sumbitch so spun up dat he didn’ know if he was comin’ or goin’!” continues Wildchild. “I got him so frustrated, so bent outta shape, so embarrassed an’ enraged, dat he was willin’ to do whatever it took t’get rid of me…” WC pauses to lift the handful of documents into the field of vision. “Even sign a contract dat he didn’ bother t’read!” YEAAAAAAAAAAH! “Dis contract means dat at Genesis, it’s gon’ be you an’ me, Van Siclen!” shouts the Caribbean Cruiser. “But, it’s not gon’ jus’ be any match… it’s gon’ be no countout, an’ no-DQ!” YEAAAAAAAAAAH! “You’re not gon’ be able t’duck me any more!” continues WC. “For de past two years, you’ve been livin’ on borrowed time, but at Genesis, Van Siclen… your time is UP!” With that, “Let’s Get Dirty” begins to play once more, as Wildchild salutes the crowd. “And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen!” shouts Francis. “Wildchild disguising himself as the Birdman was all part of a carefully-designed plot to lure Mike Van Siclen into a match at Genesis, and it’ll be Wildchild versus Van Siclen, with no countout, and no disqualification!” “Wildchild went to a hell of a lot of trouble to get this match made,” says King. “He’d better know what he’s just gotten himself into!” “We’ll be right back,” shouts Francis, “with more Smarkdown!” Wildchild climbs up onto the turnbuckles and salutes his fans… As we: FADE OUT

Mike Van Siclen storms into SWF Commissioner Joseph Peters’ office, a bright new welt across his forehead to match all of the bruises from being attacked by birds the previous week on Lockdown. He looks expectantly at Peters. “Well?” Peters rolls his eyes as he looks up from the paperwork he was perusing. “Well what, Michael?” “Well, what are you going to do about Wildchild?” demands Van Siclen. “You’re going to fire him, right?” “Fire him?” Peters asks with a smirk. “For what?” “For what?” MVS repeats incredulously. “What the (bleep) do you mean, ‘for what?’ You know what! Wildchild violated his suspension by wrestling as the Birdman. Now, you’ve got to fire him; rules are rules!” “Unfortunately,” replies Peters, “I’m not going to be able to do that… You see, as of last Wednesday, Wildchild’s suspension was lifted.” “What?” roars the Spectacle. “(Bleep)-ing why? Who the (bleep) would allow something that galacticly stupid to happen?” Peters breaks into a full-fledged grin as he stares back at Van Siclen. “You did.” “What?” “It was part of that contract you signed last week,” explains the commissioner. “What the (bleep) are you talking about?” asks MVS. “What (bleep)-ing contract?” “The contract you signed after your… uhm… incident during the House of Marvelous segment,” replies Peters. “You came in here and signed those contracts that Wildchild left with that note… unfortunately for you, you didn’t bother to actually read it.” “Meaning?’ “Meaning,” continues Peters, “that among other things, an affidavit signed by you, petitioning the SWF Board of Directors to repeal Wildchild’s suspension was forwarded up to them. And, since you’re the person responsible for his suspension in the first place, the Board determined that they would expedite the repealment.” “I don’t believe this.” Van Siclen shakes his head. “I don’t (bleep)-ing believe this. The whole (bleep)-ing world’s against me, I (bleep)-ing swear to God… Wait a minute; you said ‘among other things,’ Peters… WHAT (bleep)-ing other things?” “Oh,” replies Peters. "I think that you might want to get in front of a monitor here real soon…"

The door of the Commissioner's office opens, with a figure clad purely in white backing out. "Arigatou, arigatou!" she says, bowing her way out. She readjusts her gym bag over her shoulder and turns around. The masked woman known as the Scion of Light has finally signed her contract into the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation. She walks down the hallway, passing a man in a full bird costume. She raises her hand as if she's about to greet him, but he just walks on by. "... taihen." she mutters. Undaunted she continues towards the locker rooms. She turns a corner and nearly runs right into a big brick house of a wrestler, towering above her. "Go-gomen... ano... Sorry!" she blurts out. Bruce Blank merely grunts as he walks past. If her eyes were visible through her mask, they'd look like giant saucers after the run-in. She shakes her head and moves onwards. Ahead, a broad shouldered man in a blue warmup suit catches her attention. He spies her, and walks towards her, something glinting in his hands. Excited that she might finally find someone to say something to her, the Scion of Light quickens her pace. She raises her hand in a wave towards him. "Hello!" she says in a heavily accented fashion. Tom Flesher, still sweating from his previous outing walks up to meet the newcomer. "Hello. You're new aren't you?" asks the Cruiserweight Champion. "HAI!" she exclaims, "I am the Scion of Light!" To emphasize this, she strikes a Kamen pose, with one arm bent towards her head, and the other straight towards the sky. Her smile almost beams out from her mask. "Yes. Hello. Here, hold this," says Tom Flesher. He unceremoniously tosses the Cruiserweight Championship towards her. Momentarily stunned, it takes the Scion a split second to drop out of pose before clumsily catching the belt. Meanwhile Flesher has walked past her down the other end of the hall. "Ano... ano... Excuse me... Sir?" she asks, quickly following the man in the blue warmup suit.