chirs3

Smarkdown returns after a commercial for Memphis Eel hair gel, and camera man Larry Blackwell (Sacred really does have a large family) pans around the arena, displaying such signs as, TOUDD COURTEZ ROUCKS! (Well, it is Canada), and I LOUVE RUSH! with the heads of Geddy Lee, Neil Peart, and Alex Lifeson plastered on Allan Hadrian's body. Larry then swings his camera around to focus on the Suicide King and Longdogger Pete. "Hello again, fans! Smarkdown is live from Winnipeg, Manitoba! We've got full card tonight, loaded with Lethal Lottery matches, not to mention that thrilling six man tag for the main event," Pete says. "Right you are, Pete. We've only got a few more shows until From the Fire, and things are already starting to heat up!" "So let's start things off with a Lethal Lottery tag match between the team of Rush Hadrian and Todd Cortez versus Manson and Jimmy the Doom!" Pete exclaims. "Oh, God no! Anything but those doofuses," King mutters. Before King has the opportunity to further bad mouth the teams involved, the lights go out and a phalanx of druids march out, chanting the same word continuously. DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! The lights snap back on and Mastodon's "Crusher Destroyer" rips over the speakers, prompting Manson, Jimmy the Doom, and Lois the Unethical to walk out together in a surprising show of solidarity. "Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall in the Lethal Lottery tournament! Introducing first, being accompanied by Lois the Unethical, at a combined weight of four hundred, eighty-five pounds and a record of two and zero, JIIMMEEE THE DOOOM AND MMAANSON!" Funyon booms. Doom and Manson both slide into the ring and begin discussing strategy for the match at hand. Or maybe Doom is just pleading with the Stampede to stay for the duration of the match. "I'm amazed that Jimmy the Doom isn't screaming at Manson for leaving him during their tag match against Jay Hawke and Arch Griffon. Of course, that could have taken place afterwards," Pete says. "I'd say that Jay Hawke has more right to be upset because his team lost after Griffon left," King points out. "Crusher Destroyer" fades out and is quickly replaced by Mos Def, Nate Dogg, and Pharoah Monche's "Oh No". Bam! An explosion on both sides of the ramp marks the entrance of Todd Cortez, Rush Hadrian, and Megan Skye. The trio head down to the ring, Skye stopping outside the squared circle. "And their opponent, being accompanied by Megan Skye, they weigh four hundred, fifty pounds, and hold a record of one and zero, the 'Urban Legend', TODD CORRTEZ AND RUUUSH HAAAADRRIAAAAN!" shouts the always dapper Funyon. Cortez removes his cross and vest, and hands both over to Funyon. Todd and Rush talk briefly about who is to start the match, before Hadrian exits, leaving Cortez in the ring with Manson and referee Bryan Adams (Canadian law mandates that Adams be present at, and participate in any major event taking place on Canadian soil). Adams pats down both men then calls for the bell after not finding anything. DING! DING! DING! "And the two men with the most tag team experience start it off. Manson, of course, teamed with Arch Griffon, while Cortez has had several partners, including current tag champ Landon Maddix, Mike Van Siclen, and The Masked Man" Pete notes. "That's true, MacDougal, and I think Van Siclen and Masked Man outweigh Maddix, so I'll give the advantage here to Cortez and Hadrian," King replies. Manson and Todd circle briefly before locking together. The Raging Bull quickly gains the upperhand and slides Cortez into a side headlock. Manson isn't content to simply apply the hold, and begins smashing punches into whatever part of Cortez's head he can. Adams suggests that Manson refrain from using closed fists, and gets flipped off. However, this momentary reprieve is enough for the 'Urban Legend', and he shunts Manson into the ropes. The Stampede hurtles back and gets knocked down with a leg lariat. Todd scrambles to his feet, as does Manson. The two crash together like bipedal bighorn sheep, with the Stampede once again gaining the advantage. Manson performs an armwringer and then smashes a pair of chops into Todd's neck. The Raging Bull yanks the 'Urban Legend' in close, driving a knee into Cortez's gut. Manson wraps Todd up, pivots, and slams the 'Urban Legend' into the mat. "Nice belly to belly slam from Manson. He's easily the strongest man in this match and is using it to his advantage," Pete states. "True, but Cortez and Hadrian are both much quicker than Manson and Jimmy the Doom, so the tide could turn very quickly," King points out. Manson scrambles up to his feet, races for the ropes, and drops an elbow on the space Cortez occupied just moments ago. Todd kips up and boots the Raging Bull in the face. Manson rolls away, but Cortez stays on the offensive, kicking at the Stampede's torso. Manson reaches the ropes and Bryan Adams quickly intercedes, allowing Manson to rise to his feet. Darts past Adams and blasts Manson in the jaw with a spin kick. Todd swiftly follows up with an European uppercut, but the Raging Bull answers with an elbow smash to the face. Cortez takes a step back, providing an opening for Manson to boot the 'Urban Legend' in the stomach. Manson slaps on a front facelock and drops a forearm across Todd's back. The Raging Bull lands another forearm before hoisting Cortez up and droping him across Manson's knee. "Rib breaker, and Manson is really working over Todd Cortez's torso, which should tire him out quickly," Pete notes. "True, but Manson needs to focus on Todd's head and neck, as that's what his, and Jimmy the Doom's usual finishers target," King adds. Manson pulls Todd up by the hair and drags the 'Urban Legend' over to his and Jimmy the Doom's corner. Manson smashes an elbow into Todd's face before tagging in his Doomtopian partner. Jimmy springs to the top turnbuckle and leaps off, knocking Cortez to the mat with a dropkick. Doom lunges towards Todd and makes a lateral press. ONE! TW-No! "Shoulder up from Cortez. He's a tough customer to put down for the three count." "You know why, right Pete?" King asks. "I'm afraid to ask, but why, King?" "Cause he's from the streets, bitch!" King exclaims. Doom pulls Todd of the mat, but the 'Urban Legend' swipes out, raking his fingers across Jimmy's eyes. Cortez lands two quick kicks to Doom's right knee, then finishes with a jumping spin kick to the jaw. Which does not drop Jimmy as intended. Cortez grabs Doom by the wrist and whips him into Todd's corner. The 'Urban Legend' follows in and dropkicks Jimmy in the chest. Cortez reaches up and tags in Rush, who grabs Doom by the back of the head and runs along the apron, smashing Jimmy face first into the adjacent top turnbuckle. The Doomtopian stumbles out, Hadrian springs to the top rope, and leaps off, taking Jimmy to the mat. "Now Rush Hadrian is in control of this match after that flying neckbreaker drop!" Pete yells. "And he did it with his speed. Doom and Manson just can't keep pace with him or Todd Cortez," King adds. Rush rolls over and makes a lateral press, hooking Jimmy's outside leg. ONE! T-No! "Kick out by Doom, who has proven countless times to be incredibly tough. As has Manson, actually. It should be interesting to see how Cortez and Hadrian's speed fares against Jimmy and Manson's tolerance for pain," Pete states. "You also have to consider how tough Cortez and Hadrian are, and honestly, I think that Todd Cortez's great tag team experience should counteract most flaws." Rush pulls Doom to his feet and drives two quick knees into the Doomtopian's stomach. Hadrian wraps Jimmy up, lifts him off the mat, and sits out with a powerbomb, pinning Doom's shoulders to the mat. ONE! TW-No! "Almost a two count for Hadrian, but Jimmy the Doom is still pretty fresh," Pete points out. "Yeah, it's going to take some blows to the head to keep him down for a long period of time." Rush shoves Doom away and waits for the Doomtopian to rise. Jimmy clambers up, and Hadrian cracks him in the back of the skull. CATECHISM! "Just like that. Excellent enzuigiri from Rush Hadrian," King says. Hadrian races for the ropes, bounces back, and leaps as Doom turns to face him. TINTINNABULATION! "Single leg dropkick from Hadrian! He's really taking it to Jimmy the Doom, and Manson needs to get back into this match if they want to win their pool," Pete says. "I'm actually surprised he just hasn't rushed in and started pummelling Hadrian and Cortez," King replies. Rush slaps a front facelock on Doom and sends him over with a quick snap suplex. Hadrian drags Jimmy over to his corner and tags in Cortez, who drops a springboard knee across Jimmy's chest. Todd hauls Jimmy back to his feet and whips him into the ropes. Cortez scoops Doom up, and plants him with an inverted atomic drop. The 'Urban Legend' shoots for the ropes and dives at Jimmy, knocking him to the mat and making a lateral press. ONE! TWO-No! "Not even a two count after a Crotch-Droppah and Hollow Point combination!" Pete marvels. "I'm telling you, bash him in the head a bit and that should take him down," King states. Todd gets up, followed shortly afterwards by Doom. Jimmy lands a palm thrust to the face, but Cortez answers with a pair of kicks to the head. The 'Urban Legend' whips the Doomtopian chest first into the turnbuckle and drops to his knees while Jimmy stumbles out. Cortez springs to his feet with Doom draped across one shoulder. Todd walks out of the corner, turns around, and drops to his ass, wrenching Doom's neck. The 'Urban Legend' points to the top rope and tags in Rush, who scrambles up. Hadrian leaps off, driving an elbow into Jimmy's face. Rush stretches out and makes a lateral press. ONE! TWO! T-No! "Hadrian just barley got a near fall after Cortez hit that Neckwrecker, and Rush followed up with a Macho Elbow to the face. They seem to following your strategy of hitting Jimmy the Doom in the head, but even so, he still seems relatively fresh," Pete notes. "It's not going to happen suddenly, though, MacDougal. But, if Hadrian and Cortez keep up the attack, then Jimmy the Doom should be rendered a nonfactor in this match," King says. Hadrian pulls the Doomtopian off the mat and shunts him to the ropes. Rush leaps up as Jimmy bounces back, and nails him in the back of the head. REFRACTORY! "Another enzuigiri from Rush Hadrian, but it's not having the intended effect of dropping Jimmy the Doom. Just making him stumble around like a drunkard," Longdogger points out. "I don't think it matters how exactly it affects him, as long as it affects him," King replies. Hadrian grabs Doom by the arms, twists him around, and plants Jimmy with a reverse double arm DDT. Rush scrambles to his corner and tags in Cortez, who vaults into the ring and on top of Doom's back with both knees. Todd snares Jimmy around the chin and yanks back, rolling him over and scissoring Doom around the waist. "Street Dreams! Todd Cortez has almost got the Street Dreams completely locked in! If he can just slap on an armbar, then Jimmy the Doom will really be in trouble," Pete says. "I think he's in trouble already, armbar or not," King points out. Bryan Adams slides in to ask if Doom will submit, and gets back a muffled negative while Cortez manages to secure the armbar. The 'Urban Legend' cranks back, but the Doomtopian reaches up, and lands a blind throat thrust. Todd obviously doesn't wish to give up the dragon sleeper, so instead relinquishes the armbar in order to grab his neck. With both arms now free, Jimmy threads them through the facelock and breaks Cortez's grip. Doom twists around as best he can while still locked in a body scissors, and bashes Cortez in the face with some elbows, forcing the 'Urban Legend' to let him go. Jimmy tries to scramble away, but a flying Hadrian puts the kibosh on the Doomtopian's escape with a springboard dropkick. This prompts Manson to rush to the center of the ring, but that's as far as he gets before being stopped by Bryan Adams and ordered to return to his own corner. The Raging Bull flips Adams the bird and trudges back. "Doom escapes the Street Dreams, but can't make a tag, as Rush Hadrian took him out with a dropkick, and Manson is understandably upset," Pete says. "Understandably upset? Manson is always upset, and since he's got a reason this time, I'm shocked he didn't break the referee's skull," King replies. "He probably doesn't want to get his team disqualified from the match," Pete points out. "How often has that stopped the majority of the wrestlers in the SWF?" King asks. "Good point, King. Maybe he's on the Zoloft, to keep from killing all of us," Longdogger offers. Hadrian heads back to the corner while Todd Cortez reaches out to make a cover on Jimmy the Doom. ONE! TWO! TH-No! "Shoulder up from Jimmy the Doom! Maybe if Cortez had Street Dreams on for just a little while longer, it would have been enough to put Doom away," Pete muses. "I don't know, Pete. Now, if Cortez went for the Riot Act Plus, and Manson was stopped by Hadrian, that should keep Jimmy down for the count. Of course, Rush might get torn limb from limb by the Raging Bull, but that's a small price to pay to have the chance to beat up Landon Maddix at From the Fire," King says. The 'Urban Legend' climbs up and pulls Jimmy up by his shirt. Cortez whips Doom to the ropes and sticks out a foot, catching the Doomtopian right on the mouth. GRENADINE! Jimmy's knees buckle, but before he can drop, Todd wraps a hand around his throat and lifts him off his Doomtopian feet. Cortez sits out, throwing his legs over Jimmy's arms for a pin. ONE! TWO! THRE-No! "Kick out! Jimmy the Doom kicked out of the Urban Assault after a superkick! What else does Todd Cortez and Rush Hadrian have to do to keep Doom down for the three count?" Pete wonders. "They could always just brain him with a chair," King offers. Cortez pushes Doom away and stomps over to tag in Hadrian. Rush makes his way towards Jimmy and begins to lift him off the mat, only for the Doomtopian to launch himself vertically, driving the top of his skull into Hadrian's jaw. Rush takes a step backwards and gets smacked with a kick to the face. Hadrian throws a forearm into Jimmy's chest, only to get a double shotei to the face. Doom closes in on Rush and cracks him with a headbutt. MAHARAJAH! Hadrian nearly drops to one knee, which allows Doom to snag him with a front facelock and drop Rush with a DDT. Perhaps lacking sound judgement, Jimmy rolls Hadrian over and makes a lateral press. ONE! TW-No! "Shoulder up from Rush Hadrian, and that's not surprising, as he's pretty much been on the offensive for the entire match up until this flurry from Jimmy the Doom," Pete states. "And Doom really should have tagged in Manson when he had the chance," King points out. The Doomtopian turns around and drags himself towards Manson's outstretched hand, while Rush Hadrian gets up. Hadrian walks towards Cortez, but the 'Urban Legend' tells him to stop Jimmy. However, Todd is too late in informing his partner, as the Raging Bull enters the ring and charges down Hadrian. Rush ducks an elbow, but gets caught in a full nelson and swiftly dumped on his back. "Dragon suplex from Manson, and he looks ready to inflict a lot of damage," Pete notes. "But it's Manson, Pete. When does he not look ready to hurt people?" King inquires. Manson hauls Rush off the mat and punches him in the jaw twice before whipping him to the ropes. Hadrian races back towards the Stampede and attempts to leap frog over him, but Manson snags him in mid air and drops the youngster with a powerbomb. The Raging Bull drops a knee across Rush's head and stays down to make a lateral press. ONE! TWO! THR-No! "Shoulder up from Hadrian! He really needs to tag in Todd Cortez before Manson breaks him in half, which, considering Manson's track record, would be a good thing," Pete says. "On't-day alk-tay out-bay Ansonosity-may," King mumbles, combining pig Latin with sotto voce. Manson pulls Rush back to his feet, blasts him with a pair of left hooks, then spins around and knocks Hadrian flat with an elbow. CNIDARIAN! The Raging Bull brings down a single vicious stomp to Hadrian's face and keeps his foot planted for a pin. ONE! TWO! THRE-No! "And Rush Hadrian gets a shoulder up after that roaring elbow! It's not Danny Williams, but that elbow packed a wallop, and there's no shame in going down to a powerful strike to the head like that," Pete says. "Well, I think Cortez would make him feel shame for losing the match," King notes. Manson picks Hadrian back up, but before the Raging Bull can do anything else, Rush rips his hand free of Manson's grasp and smacks him in the back of the head. LIBIDINOUS! Rush doesn't even both getting to his feet, and simply crawls to Cortez and tags him in. Todd rushes Manson and nails him with a dropkick. The 'Urban Legend' shunts Manson into the ropes and crouches down, looking for a spinebuster, but the Stampede drives a knee into Todd's gut, doubling him over. Manson quickly cinches a front facelock, and then hooks Cortez's leg. The Raging Bull lifts Todd off the mat, spins, and drops him with a suplex which Manson bridges up for a pin. ONE! TWO! THRE-No! "Kick out from Todd Cortez after a Moss Covered Three Handled Family Credenza!" Pete shouts. He then mutters, "Jesus, that's almost as bad as Jimmy the Doom's 73.5267.1094Q80.16." "I thought Hadrian and Cortez had regained the advantage after Rush's enzuigiri, but Manson is made of sterner stuff, it would seem." The Stampede pulls Todd back to his feet and slings the 'Urban Legend' into Manson's own corner. Manson smashes an elbow into Cortez's face, then tags in Jimmy the Doom. Doom steps over the top rope and throws a low dropkick to Todd's knees. Jimmy backs up, charges the 'Urban Legend', plants on Cortez's left thigh, and pushes off, cracking Todd in the jaw. POGROM! "Shining Yak Kick from Jimmy the Doom!" Pete exclaims. "I'm amazed that you're smart enough to think of that on the spot without it being on a card," King replies. Doom pulls the 'Urban Legend' out of the corner and makes a lateral press. ONE! TWO! THRE-No! "Shoulder up! Todd Cortez kicked out after nearly getting his brain knocked out of his skull, and now he really needs to tag in Rush Hadrian," Pete says. "That he does, but Manson and Jimmy the Doom might prove to be too overpowering," King adds. Doom picks Todd off the mat and whips him to the ropes. Jimmy scoops Cortez off his feet, turns him upside down, and drops the 'Urban Legend' on Doom's outstretched knee. The Doomtopian scrambles to the top turnbuckle and flips off, grabbing Todd by the head and smashing his face into the canvas. "Top rope moonsault Doom Factor from Jimmy the Doom! This just might put Todd Cortez away!" Pete shouts. "Well, Rush Hadrian isn't exactly dead, so I think it's safe to assume that he'll at least attempt to make a save," King notes. Jimmy rolls Cortez onto his back and makes a lateral press while Hadrian springs over the top rope and races towards the 'Urban Legend' and the Doomtopian ONE! The Raging Bull enters the ring and leaps over Todd and Jimmy, ready to intercept Rush. TWO! Hadrian goes low, brushing past Manson's left leg on his way towards Doom and Cortez. THREE! NO! "He made the save! Rush Hadrian broke up the pin just in the nick of time with that baseball slide dropkick!" Pete screams. "Of course, now Manson is going to beat the shit out of him," King states. Adams turns on the Stampede and orders him out of the ring while Hadrian snags an unsuspecting Jimmy the Doom in a front facelock. Rush lifts Doom, spins, and drops Jimmy with a brainbuster . Manson dodges past Bryan Adams and measures Rush for a Western lariat, but Hadrian drops to his stomach, and stays down, rolling under the ropes and retreating back to his corner. With Adams screeching at him about disqualification, Manson stomps back to his corner and proceeds to crush the tag rope in his hand. "This match might have just turned back to Cortez and Hadrian's favor after Rush hit the Thunder Death Driver on Jimmy the Doom," Pete says. "Possibly, MacDougal, but Todd Cortez desperately needs to tag in his partner in order to take advantage of that," King points out. Both men remain on the mat, though Jimmy the Doom slowly begins to stir, despite having recently been kicked in and then dropped on his head. Todd, on the other hand, is showing the signs of his beating, and stays down. The Doomtopian reaches up and tags in the Raging Bull. Manson dips between the ropes and begins stomping at every possible inch of 'Urban Legend' he can find. Bryan Adams is quick to interject himself, though, and forces the Stampede away from Cortez. Manson fumes, but apparently is very intent on winning his pool, or at least making up for bailing on Lockdown, and backs off. Adams moves out of the way, allowing Manson to pull Cortez off the mat and smash a knee into his gut. The Stampede takes a step backwards, then spins, driving an elbow into the back of Todd's head. IMPETIGO! "What a roaring elbow from Manson!" "Don't forget, he had the added advantage of striking Todd from above. Leverage and height are important," King says. Manson glares at Hadrian, blows a snot rocket on Todd's back, and rolls the 'Urban Legend' over for a lateral press. ONE! Rush climbs into the ring and heads for the Raging bull. TWO! Manson rolls off of Cortez and charges at Hadrian, looking for a Western lariat. Rush ducks under, and as Manson spins around, the Stampede finds Hadrian's arms wrapped around his head in a three quarter facelock. Rush tries to yank Manson to the mat with a diamond cutter, but is instead shoved to the ropes. Hadrian collides with the rising Doomtopian, and stumbles back. Right into Manson, who hoists Rush off his feet and holds him up, neck resting on Manson's broad shoulder. The Raging Bull sits out, wrenching Hadrian's neck, and then shoves Rush out of the ring. "Muscle Buster from Manson! There is no way that Rush Hadrian will be stopping Manson or Jimmy the Doom from pinning his partner, so it's down to Todd Cortez to fend for himself!" Pete hollers. "Well, I guess that means Doom and Manson have this match wrapped up," King says. "You never know, King. Todd Cortez has a chance to make off with a win," Pete replies. The Raging Bull turns around to find Cortez still flat on his back, and heads over to change that. Manson pulls the 'Urban Legend' up and whips him to the ropes. The Stampede races for the opposite set, blows past Cortez, hits the ropes, and blindsides Todd from the back. TROGLODYTE! "Not if Manson decapitates him with a Western lariat," King points out. "That is a valid point, but you forget something very important to that argument, King, and that is, your mother," Pete shoots back. "You fucking bastard, that's my line," King grumbles. As Cortez hits his involuntary senton on the mat, Manson plants a meaty hoof on Todd's chest, leaving his hands free to throw the metal horns, while Bryan Adams makes the count (Which, by logic should be academic.). ONE! TWO! THREE! DING! DING! DING! "The winners of the match, and pool D, MMAAANSON AND JJIIIMMEEE THE DOOOOM!" Funyon roars. Speaking of roaring, Mastodon's "Crusher Destroyer" roars over the speakers, and Manson, Doom, and Lois the Unethical head back up the ramp, druids marching double time to catch the early bird special at Chez Canadia. "And Jimmy the Doom and Manson have won their pool, meaning...well, how exactly does the Lethal Lottery work? Are they automatically set to go to From the Fire?" Pete asks. "If you don't know, MacDougal, there's no point in asking, as you simply wouldn't be able to comprehend it," King says. "So you don't know either." "Not a fucking clue."

The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents SWF SMARKDOWN! LIVE MONDAY 27th FEBRUARY from the SOLD OUT MTS CENTER in Winnipeg, Mannitoba, Canada! (7pm EST, 10pm EST, check local listings) The SWF moves north to Canada! Why? I don't know cos I don't know the geography, but J3 seems to think it makes sense! We have no less than SIX top-quality matches for you all, not only the Lethal Lottery but also someone gets a chance to go Hardcore, and a tumultous six-man tag! OPENING PROMO: Kevin Coyote MAIN EVENT SIX-MAN TAG El Luchadore Magnifico©, Jay Hawke© and The Crimson Skull vs. Wes Davenport, Landon 'La Cucaracha' Maddix© and 'The Icon' Max King© Well, Magnifico got his claws into The Icon recently for starters; he also has a little something going on with Wes Davenport, seeing as how Wes is the NUMBER ONE CONTENDER and all. Maddix... well, he brought the goods for Lockdown's main event, and he's always ready for a little more spotlight. Siding with our long-reigning World Champion is the longer-reigning International Champion Jay Hawke, and malignant Super Villain, the Crimson Skull! Will he show the same fire in the main event, or will this unlikely teaming finally mean that ELM loses...? Tear it up, guys... Rules: Only one man from each team in the ring at a time, use the tag ropes, one fall, countout and DQ in effect, etc. Word Limit: 6000 Send To: Evolution (Z note: Duran may have internet problems on Monday, so please also send copies of your match to realitycheck) LETHAL LOTTERY (Cross-Pool) Stryke & Wildchild (1-0) vs Insane Luchador & Kevin Coyote (1-0) Tagamania is still runnin' wild as we blaze towards From the Fire, and tension is building like low-quality wordplay in this description amongst the various entrants. Who will go to TLC? Will we see another upset from Kevadore? Will StryChild continue it's slightly unsuspected run of dominance? Will we ever give these teams legitimate names, isntead of blending the ones they have? No. Word Limit: 4500 Send To: chirs3 CRUISERWEIGHT TITLE MATCH DOUBLE THREAT "The Divine Wind" Akira Kaibatsu© vs Zyon Zyon lost the title to Akira Kaibatsu, but it could doom is angle to the blakest depths of hell, so here's a rematch to try and avoid that. Rules: It's a standard cruiserweight title match. Y'see, it's called Double Threat because it was originally a TRIPLE Threat with Spike, but he can't be booked, so JJ changed it to this an effort to be clever. You fail. Word Limit: 5000 Send To: realitycheck ULTRAVIOLENT TITLE #1 CONTENDERSHIP MATCH Michael Cross vs. The Masked Crusader Cross done good against Maddix, and showed heart. Have a contendership match. Crusader promised big things in the Cold Front Classic last year but failed to deliver - now he's back for another shot at SWF glory! Word Limit: 4000 Send To: janusd LETHAL LOTTERY (Pool B) Christian Fury & Mistress Sarah (1-1) vs. Ghost Machine 2.0 & Matt Myers (0-1) Fight! Yeah, I'm out of stuff to say. Word Limit: 4500 Send To: Justice OPENING MATCH LETHAL LOTTERY (Pool C) Rush Hadrian & Todd Cortez (1-0) vs. Jimmy the Doom & Manson (2-0) Rush, the quick replacement for JJ Johnson in the Lethal Lottery, has proven most effective paired with Todd Cortez in their first match together. They go up against the pairing of Jimmy the Doom and Manson, a team that, shockingly, has also proven most effective! Can Doom and Manson be the first to go a perfect 3-0 in the Lethal Lottery? Tune in to FIND OUT! Word Limit: 4500 Send To: The Superstar Send all promos and marked matches to chirs3.

God damn you people. I just downloaded this, to listen to it before I head to work, and what do I see? Thirty minutes long! Not enough time to listen to it before I head out. So now I have to spend all day at work waiting, agonizing, counting down the seconds until I can come home and listen to it. Grrr...

As far as the schedule goes, I finally got around to editing the TV dates thread. Sorry it took so long. Next Lockdown is the last show before From the Fire, a special Tuesday PPV. Blame Peters. His idea for the Lottery and all. Then we have a quick'n'dirty Aftershoxx Promo/Recap show 2 days later, and from there we're back on the regular schedule.

I have no mic, so that's out, but anything else I can do to help, I'd be happy to. I love the Thoth Reports. All three of them. EDIT: Listening to it now, I'd love to do a Halo 2 clan, Thoth. Anyone else?

I still say Martha's dirty. Nathanson said someone else in the Government was involved... Logan's too stupid, and there's no way it's Aaron... plus, the fact that Palmer got assassinated after calling her is fishy - he didn't show she was dirty, so when he called her, she's all "Shit, Palmer knows something, I gotta kill 'em". She's operating on a higher level than Cummings, so he didn't know about her, and she manipulated the situation to get him to delete the record of the phone call because it led to her. Just a guess. Anyway, I liked tonight's episode, despite Nathanson's uselessness. Lynn going crazy is good, and I was giddy at the prospect of CTU torturing either Buchanan or Audrey (which may still happen, depending on how far Lynn's willing to go). And they're doing the best they can with Crazy Druggy Sister, making it about the keycard. Question: Erwich kinda looked like Badger, from Firefly. Him? Or no?

The Smartmark's Wrestling Federation Presents... SWF STORM! LIVE, SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 18th, FROM THE SOLD OUT KEYARENA IN SEATTLE, WASHINGTON! (7:00pm PST, 10:00pm EST; check local listings) The Lethal Lottery is underway! Tonight, we see some more matchifications, with plenty of cross-pool action, and a gentlemen's encounter between Bruce Blank and Insane Luchadore? That can't be right - but it is! Plus, the battle of the big mouths, and our World Champ in action! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The Main Event (non-title) El Luchadore Magnifico © vs. "The Icon" Max King © ---> We need to keep our champions in shape, after all. At From the Fire, Magnifico's got Wes, and MaddiKing's got... someone... but in the mean time, we can't let them get rusty. Max King gets a crack at the unbeatable Magnifico in tonight's show-stopping Main Event! Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 5000 Send to: realitycheck -=-=-=-=- Lethal Lottery Match (Pool D) Todd Cortez and Allan Hadrian (0/0) vs. Jay Hawke © and Arch Griffon (0/0) ---> Most rookies get their start against the likes of Ced Ordonez, but due to the timetable of the Lethal Lottery, Allan Hadrian's first match in the SWF is one of the highest-caliber tournament matchups yet! Jay Hawke and Todd Cortez clashed last show, with Hawke coming out the (not so clean) victor - Cortez will definitely be looking for payback. And we all know there's some history between Griffon and Hawke... how will the wildcard Hadrian play into all this? Rules: Standard tag team match. Word Limit: 5000 Send to: chirs3 -=-=-=-=- Lethal Lottery Match (Cross-pool) The Crimson Skull and Jason von Dierch (0/1) vs. Christian Fury and Mistress Sarah (0/1) ---> Moral victors of Smarkdown battle it out to break even on their tournament records! Rules: Standard tag team match. Word Limit: 5000 Send to: janusd -=-=-=-=- Lethal Lottery Match (Pool B) "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins and Zyon © (1/0) vs. Ghost Machine 2.0 and Matt Myers (0/1) ---> Victorious in their first match, Team SpYon looks to close the book on the other Pool B Team, and propel themselves to a 2-0 record before their cross-pool match. But look out - the cosplay master and a guy who might be a robot stand in their way! Rules: Standard tag team match. Word Limit: 5000 Send to: Justice -=-=-=-=- Bruce Blank © vs. Insane Luchadore ---> CLASH OF THE TITANS~!... ... OF HARDCORE! ... in a... standard... match? An oddity, to be sure, but that's life - Bruce Blank and Insane Luchadore, both icons of the Hardcore/Ultraviolent/Not-Very-Nice division, look to settle their differences in a civilized setting. Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 4500 Send to: Secret Agent -=-=-=-=- Lethal Lottery Match (Cross-pool) The Asian Underground (Akira Kaibatsu and Michael Cross) (1/0) vs. Ced Ordonez and Laberinto (0/1) ---> The Asian Underground made a big statement with their opening match in the tournament, and with all the odd couples about, many say they're poised to go far in the Lottery. To go farther, though, they'll have to take on the not-so-victorious team Ced Ordonez and Laberinto! Can the masked wonder and the dancing machine pull out the win? Rules: Standard tag team match. Word Limit: 4500 Send to: chirs3 -=-=-=-=- Opening Bout Amy Stepens vs. Kevin Coyote ---> A little preview of an upcoming Lottery match - two loudmouths, one of Team BlAmy and one of Team KevAdore, battle it out for our amusement! Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 4000 Send to: Evolution -=-=-=-=- Opening Promo: Unclaimed -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SPECIAL BONUS MATCH Jimmy the Doom vs. An Octopus ---> Be careful what you wish for. Rules: HARDCORE. Word Limit: 1995 Send to: chirs3 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Word limits trimmed to fit the delay, but if you'd like 'em raised, PM your marker and ask. Send all materials (marked matches, promos, etc.) to realitycheck!

Wow, that looks a lot better than I was expecting.

highres1 = me!

God damn it! I mean, good-ish episode and all, but god damn it! I can't believe they teased us like that... well, I CAN believe it, of course, but you know. And what was up with Sawyer doing jack shit after his awesome steal a week ago? Bah.

I think Curtis is one of the better secondary characters, but they really should give him more to do than just playing backup for Bauer.

Also: anyone who wishes to write on behalf of the Octopus may do so.

Updated comments: -- JJ's promo's are now in. READ THEM. Please. -- AkRoss's match is in, just late! Color me relieved, and very happy too! -- I must reiterate that tonight's promo madness was very pleasing.

Wildchild had to go and beat me to it by, like, 13 minutes, so I'll post in his infinitely superior comments thread. 1. Holy hell, you people promo'd a lot tonight. Excellent work. 2. I'm not sure who I like more as a team - Jimmy and Manson, or Bruce and Amy... FIGHT TO THE DEATH. 3. Be sure to check back in for the two missing promos... I'm told they will be... informative... The card will go up tomorrow morning. My apologies.

Sitting outside the arena and staring into the cold night sky, Landon Maddix's best impression of a bum is pretty good. His hair's pretty unkempt although it's not long enough to be considered really messy. And his clothes, while not ironed or taken care of in any visible way are far from tatty rags. But the fact he's sitting on the curb just outside the parking lot with a half empty bottle of Whiskey in his hand, with a glum look on his face and plenty of troubles on his mind makes up for those minor inconsistencies. Chugging back some of the Whiskey, Landon audibly sighs and slumps forward a little. Another crappy day. Not even booked on the card, he's come to the arena and found nothing to do. He's been given no mic-time. No camera-time. The only thing he's been 'treated' to is a $100 fine for his attack on Sexton Hardcastle at Clusterfuck. No wonder he's decided to find sollace in the bottom of a bottle. "Oi, emo kid!" Turning his head around slowly, Maddix looks up at the 'lady' hovering over him curiously. Arms folded, Amy Stephens's eyes gaze past Maddix and to the half empty glass bottle clenched in his right hand. Maddix's gaze is fixed firmly on Amy's cleavage, a gaze which he breaks gentlemanly, although about 5 seconds too late. "Ah, you know yer name then. You gonna drink all that? Cos if not, I'd be happy to help you out, you get me? They don't have any booze round here for some reason." ... "Oh fuckin’ hell...it's you, innit! That Maddix kid!" "Yep." deadpans Maddix, tagging another swig from his bottle. "So, what is it you want? Autographs are $10, pictures $20. I also record answer phone messages and voicemails, one dollar for the first ten words and an additional dollar for every word after that." "You do know who I am, dontcha?" "Uhhh...should I?" "Probably." shrugs Amy, sitting down on the curb beside Landon and extending her hand. "Name's Amy Stephens." All of a sudden, the crude, Nottingham accent causes Maddix to suddenly jump out of his skin. Just for a moment, at least. He hadn't really being paying attention before and hadn't noticed. But now, he does. The person he recognises the accent from is gone, AWOL, missing as far as most of the world know, has been for months. And besides, sure, he's gay, but he never really sounded that female. Almost, but not quite. Still, now that he knows, the connection is pretty obvious. Stephens. It's been a long time since he heard that name. Even longer since he'd seen one of them. "S...Stephens? As in..." "As in my brother's Toxxic? Yeah. Don't worry though, I ain't gonna hit ya or nothin'. Apparently you're a cocky little prick an' he hates yer, but that's his problem, not mine innit? So what’s up? Sittin' out here in the cold, drinkin' whiskey...lemme guess. Woman trouble?" Amy takes the bottle from the still gobsmacked Landon and helps herself to a few mouthfuls of the alcohol. "I ain't much of a listener, but if you wanna talk about it an' it'll make you feel better about sharing this, then go nuts." "Well, okay. But you should probably know, it's a long story." "Ah! Well in that case..." Amy stands up to leave, but is stopped by a tug of the foot by Landon. "Wait up. I'll...try and give you the short version." "Whatever," shrugs Amy, sitting back down and slugging down some more of the whiskey. "Okay. Basically, my life's been screwed up ever since...Toxxic, dropped me on my head at From The Fire last year. He was the Champion and I was the challenger and I'd come up with this stupid stipulation about having to get a pin, submission and a knocko...well, you probably know most of this, being his sister and all. Long story short, he almost crippled me. So after that, I didn't want anything to do with him for a while. If I'm honest, I was scared that he'd try again and this time, I wouldn't get lucky and that he would end up breaking my neck. Screwed me up pretty bad. And the year since then has been rough...I mean, really rough. I've lost everything. Belts. Friends. Managers. Matches. My self confidence." "So, what you sittin' here cryin' about it for?" interrupts Amy, "at least you know where they all are. You can get ‘em back, can't ya?" "Not that simple. Until I can erase the memory of what happened, it's still going to be there in the back of my mind. But of course, I screwed my one chance at retribution up at Clusterfuck. Winning the World Title at From The Fire was the only way I could get last year out of my head. That way, it didn't matter anymore because I'd done what I intended to do and failed to do in 2005. Now though..." Maddix takes back the bottle from Amy and chugs down another mouthful. "‘Retribution’? Mike was right, you are a bloody great drama queen," sneers Amy jokingly, causing Maddix's head to snap around. "What!?!" "Easy kid, I'm just sayin' you're really over-reactin' to all this. So, my brother dropped you on yer head. Big deal. No wonder he always used to laugh about how badly you were takin' it..." *SMAAAAASSSHHH!!* Shards of glass are sent flying as Landon hurls the whiskey bottle to the ground and stands up. Quick as a flash, or at least a slightly unmotivated one, Amy gets to her feet to stand her ground as Landon wipes a hand over his head, fuming. "So, he though it was FUNNY, did he!?!" "Yeah, and!?" "Well, if your precious little brother was here right now, I'd drop him on HIS head and then we'd see how funny he found THAT!!" Landon shouts, getting in Amy's face halfway through the rant but wisely taking a step back just a moment later. "Lissen, you’re only droppin’ him on his head after I’ve hit him in it, alright? Besides it don’t matter anyway, right, cos he’s missing ain’t he!" "Don't I just know it! Maybe if he hadn't disappeared, I could snap his scrawny little neck and be done with it! Maybe then I could get him out of my damn head and maybe... maybe I'd... be..... okay." Slowing down his rant, Landon eventually comes to a stop. As he looks down at the ground, a smile seems to be forming on his face, his eyes lighting up as if he's just found a solution to all his problems. Amy has ignored all this and is still pissed off, partly because of the aggression this little punk who's only just bigger than she is is showing, partly because precious alcohol has just been wasted. "Fuck, I'd be happy if he were here right now for you to drop on his head! At least that way I'd know where he bloody was! It's alright for you, bitchin' about stuff you can change! It ain't that easy for me to change the fact he's nowhere to be found, ya get me!?" Looking up, a definite smile has found it's way on to Landon's face. "Maybe it is." "Huh?" *SMOOOCH~!* Surprised, Amy recoils and looks at Maddix like he's crazy. "Ya know, the last prick that tried that on me ended up with a broken nose." "Ah...but, did the last person who tried that on you know the perfect way to get you your brother back?" Amy stops, her fist short of Maddix's face by a mere few inches. If this not really mysterious, suddenly handsome in a weird sort of way, possibly slightly mad professional wrestler is right, this is her chance to finally find her brother. Amy stops and thinks about it, probably realising that Landon must have an ulterior motive, but not really caring. "What's the plan?" "Follow me." smiles Landon, grabbing Amy by the wrist and semi-dragging her off with him. "I'll explain on the way!" "On the way where?" "Uh, gee, I dunno...my hotel room maybe?" "You haven't got laid in ages, have you?" "NOPE!" shouts Landon, having given up on dragging this surprisingly powerful woman and simply jogging off in the distance with the hope that she'll follow him. "WHY DO YOU THINK I'M IN SUCH A HURRY?!" With Landon going further and further into the distance, Amy sighs and concedes defeat, trudging off after a slightly too excited La Cucaracha while making a half-hearted attempt to make herself look nicer, which basically consists of her moving down her shirt to show a little more cleavage. SWF Smarkdown - 2/14/2006 Rule of Law Productions © 2006 The SWF: “Raising Workrate by Typing Faster"

El Luchadore Magnifico sighs. Another day, another event at the Cow Palace. He’s not even sure why he has to be there; he’s not booked, he dislikes San Francisco, and as World Champion, he should be able to work out his own schedule to best fit his needs. That’s just the way it should work. Sadly, that’s not how it works, and thus, Magnifico is disgruntled. Still, he manages to keep at least a half-hearted sneer on his face – yes, he’s too angry to even make facial expressions – as he strides down the hall with his bag, taking a quick turn before reaching his dressing room; the dressing room is in the same place as last time. Figures. Magnifico turns the knob and opens the door, striding into the room and shrugging his luggage off of his shoulder, various thoughts running through his head as to how he plans to spend his next several hours before his flight to Seattle. *BANG!* And then the door to his dressing room slams shut, apparently of it’s own volition, and the champ whirls… …to come face to face with a surprisingly calm JJ Johnson. “Mags,” growls the Canadian. “Johnson,” scowls the Mexican. “So, have you come to give me the apology you owe me?” “Well, I quite obviously owe you one,” admits Johnson. “After all, you did beat me in that ‘drop your opponent head-first on a chair’ match.” Magnifico scowls even more. He sees where Johnson is going with this. “However,” continues the Ultimate Fighter, “I’m not going to go that direction.” “Oh?” asks Magnifico, interested now in what Johnson has to say – admittedly a first. “And what direction are you going in?” “That direction,” says the Canadian, jerking his thumb backwards – towards the door – before reaching in a pocket and shoving two pieces of paper into Magnifico’s chest. The champion stumbles, drawing a snicker from the Windsor native, and the champion scowls EVEN MORE before taking the two pieces of paper and looking at them…and discovering them to be two halves of an SWF contract. Johnson’s. “They fired you?” asks Magnifico, a bit more arrogant than would be wise; this is not something that has stopped him before, however. “I quit,” says Johnson, knocking a bit of the smirk off of the face of the champion. “I got a call from Dana White; I’m going back to UFC. Back home, you might say.” For once, Magnifico is left speechless as Johnson turns and walks to the dressing room door, opening it a crack before turning back to the champion. “If you get the chance, tell Landon and Jay ‘sorry about this’, or ‘sucks to be them’, or something along those lines,” requests Johnson. “Oh, and since I owe you this, sorry for giving you what you had coming.” “Have fun at From the Fire.” And with that, Johnson leaves, slamming the door even harder on the way out than he did on the way in, Magnifico left to stare at the two pieces of paper in his hands with a confused look on his face. FADE OUT

SWF Smarkdown returns from its previous commercial break, as it is now time for the main event! The sold out Cow Palace in San Francisco, California buzzes with excitement, as it is ready for another Lethal Lottery tournament match, one of the most anticipated of the whole night. Involved in the tag team main event is the Cruiserweight squad of past and present facing against a grizzled veteran and the dreaded ????????. Of course what would a main event be without the usual crowd participation? "???????????? Is Bob Barker!!!!" "Hawke whores the International Title out to close friends…for chocolate?" And the sign made by the token "you know this guy is drunk" members of the audience. "Daredevil was a great film, I absolutely loved Ben Affleck." Frightening the sign forces the main SWF camera to quickly cut down to Longdogger Pete and The Suicide King, the announcers for this evening! "Welcome back, fans," greets Pete, "It is now time for the main event of the evening; another Lethal Lottery match up!" "Jeez…how many matches are in this damn thing?" "Well, it IS a Round Robin Tournament…" "Ugh, this thing is going to go on FOREVER!" cries King. "Well, this upcoming match is one of the most anticipated matches in the tournament…" "I'm not looking forward to this match," King interrupts. "Well, I meant by normal people with emotions and stuff." "Who cares about them?" Pete just puts his face in his hands and shakes his head as King grins at the camera. "Lets just go to Funyon, please?" Which the cameraman does, as Funyon stands in the middle of the ring, ready for his introductions. "Ladies and Gentleman, the following contest is a match in the Lethal Lottery Tournament and is YOUR Main Event!" booms Funyon, as the crowd comes alive, "First, making their 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 crashing guitars of Lamb of God's "Black Label" sends a bolt through the crowd. The drumming sends a jolt throughout the arena, as the pace of the intro begins to pick up. Finally… "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" The high-pitched scream of Randy Blythe breaks through the speakers as the bright white lights begin flashing at the entranceway. As the scream hits the crowd, Spike walks out wearing a black hoodie on, the hood covering most of his face. "Weighing in at a total of Two Hundred and Twenty Pounds, he hails from Hollywood, California…he is 'Hollywood' Spiiiiiiike Jeeeeeenkinnnnsssssssss!" 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. "Spike Jenkins a big favorite here in the Cow Palace. Not to far from his hometown of Hollywood, California." "I don't think him being from California is what gets him his response from the San Francisco crowd." "Oh, hush you." Spike makes his way completely around the ring and 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. "YEEEEAAAHHH!" The crowd cheers on their fellow Californian, which in turn gains absolutely no response from the man himself. Lately, Spike's patience has been battle tested during a multitude of chance ending in a variety of failures. Spike stares down the ramp as if he was expecting an opponent and not his friend… "AND HIS PARTNER!" Funyon booms as the arena goes black… "I'M BORN!" "I'M ALIVE!" "I BREATHE!!!!" The lively words alternate on the Smarktron as "Vitamin" by Incubus kicks in as the crowd immediately goes into a frenzy. After a moment of build the emotive Zyon emerges through the curtain, and pauses at the top of the ramp, the SWF Cruiserweight Championship strapped firmly around his waist. Zyon scans the excited audience before busting out an innocent grin as he sprints down the ramp. "Coming to the ring, weighing in at a total of Two Hundred pounds, hailing from Elkhart, Indiana…he is the SWF Cruiserweight Champion of the World! He is 'The Unique Youth' ZYON!!!!!" Zyon leaps on to the ring apron before flipping into the ring with a simple leap and twist of the wrist. Once in the ring, Zyon energetically performs a simple head bang before lifting one arm into the air ending the entrance. Jenkins stares at his partner, his eyes never leaving the title around the waist of Zyon. "A lot of tension between these two. Zyon eliminated Spike Jenkins, who entered at Number One, from the Clusterfuck." "Not only that, Pete. But Zyon refuses to give Spike a title match! What is up with that?" "He doesn't want it to ruin their friendship! Besides, Spike went to Joseph Peter to get a title shot and instead, got a number one contenders match against Laberinto sometime in the near future! What is up with that?" "He did the smart thing!" King says, but then pauses, "I can't believe I just said Spike Jenkins did a smart thing." "AND THEIR OPPONENTS!" The locale goes somewhat darkened, and "Remember The Name" by Fort Minor spins up. Fury comes out to a minor pop, but mostly a non-commital reaction. But he doesn't mind. He walks straight from the back to the ring, kendo stick in hand; the only thing happening is some white sparklers on the entranceway. Such a boring entrance would embarrass most, but this particular veteran views it as perfectly acceptable. "Coming to the ring, weighing in at a total of Two Hundred and Twenty-Two Pounds! He hails from Cleveland, Ohio! He is Chrissssstiannnnnn Furrrrrrrrrry!!!!" His SmarkTron display is also pretty simple: Old matches, training footage, an occasional red stylized-script "Fury"... Mostly in time with the music. He ditches the kendo stick at ringside as he slides in, eyeing his opponents also looking down at the cruiserweight title he failed to capture on Lockdown, and then looking back towards the entranceway to find out who his partner is. "Time to find out the identity of the mystery person and Christian Fury's tag team partner in the Lethal Lottery!" cries Pete. "AND HIS PARTNER!" The lights in the arena become dark, as the Smarktron sizzles to life, rolling the blank fuzz of an old home movie, as "Paint It Black" by the Rolling Stones hits. When the drum beats rat-a-tat, the screenplays clips of long past matches involving the Mistress, freeze-framed in time with the drums. "It can't be!" gasps King. "It is!" Red and purple lights pierce the darkness as the Mistress steps out from behind the curtain. Pausing at the top of the ramp, Sarah raises her arms, accepting the warmth of the crowds' cheers. "YYYYYEEEEEAAAAHHHHH!!!!" The "pop" rivals the SWF's greatest baby faces as the returning Mistress has drawn quite the reaction from the Cow Palace. "Weighing in a total of One Hundred and Sixty-Five pounds! Hailing from Bellevue, Nebraska…she is MISTRESSSSSSSS SARRRRRAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" The Mistress then heads down to the ring, sliding in under the bottom rope. She unfurls the whip from around her waist and slowly curls it up, placing it on the apron before warming up. All three men took a little taken back as Sarah heads into her corner with Fury. Longtime friends and former allies, Christian Fury now likes his odds in the Lethal Lottery tournament. "Christian Fury, a former member of the Clan, who is trying to revert from his dark past, now teams with a former member of XF9, an ally during the old Stable War days." Fury and Sarah converse in the corner, figuring out that Fury will start the match off. Sarah steps out onto the apron, still embracing in the warm response from the crowd. However, on the opposite side of the ring, Zyon goes up to his friend and to do their usual "Rock, Paper, Scissors" game to see who starts off first. "ROCK!" "PAPER!" "SCISS…" And Spike ignores his friend diverting back to his lone wolf demeanor as he walks into the center of the ring, waiting for Fury. "A lot of tension between the team that is considered to be the favorites going into the Lethal Lottery!" "A lot of tension. Shit Pete I have to watch no one, but both of the superstars I hate the most. I swear if Landon was in this match I might want someone to put me out of my misery…like my son or something." Oh King so went there. Zyon shakes his head and steps out of the ring. Spike and Fury both look at each other and nod at the referee, who signals for the bell. *DING DING DING* Christian Fury and Spike Jenkins both circle around the ring and meet in the center for a lock-up, but Fury shoots down into a single leg takedown. Spike quickly brings down his weight on top of Fury, grabbing a front face lock. Fury sits for a second, but then spins out of it and grabs an arm bar…but quickly transfers over into a front face lock of his own. "And now the beginning of the *Yawn* technical portion in a Spike Jenkins match." Spike attempts the same counter that Fury performed not more than a second ago, but the grizzled veteran has the new straight edge sensation scouted scurrying away from the arm bar attempt while taking the cruiserweight down double legged style. Spike's face slams against the mat stunning the man from Hollywood allowing Fury to trap Spike with another front face lock. The anticipation that was once in the excited audience slowly begins to fade, but Fury could care less as he follows a "win the match first" attitude. Spike on the other hand ignores the crowd completely while he tries to find a way out of this boring predicament. Suddenly, Spike the technician shines through as the former cruiserweight champion explodes with a counter changing the positions. Now Fury is forced to taste the canvas; a victim of a Spike Jenkins arm bar. Realizing that he is getting nowhere, Spike roughly lifts Fury back to his feet. "Both men have returned back to their feet." "Thank god." Spike looks to be controlling the action with his arm bar, but the veteran looks to surprise his opponent with a snapmare. However, Spike fights the throw tightening the arm bar until Fury wraps his other arm around Spike's head again except this time the veteran opts to go vertical. Planting both feet into the mat, Fury leaps upward using Spike's head as a pole-vault. Spike flows into Fury's plan holding The Fury into the air until he can't any longer. Dropping to the mat Fury snaps his arm forward tossing Spike away with a snapmare. "CLAP CLAP CLAP!!!!" The crowd applauds the technical action as Spike stares down Fury devilishly. Tossing out his somewhat careful nature, Spike charges the veteran who has seen this action taken by many men in his lifetime… …and Spike is no different. Slightly enraged Spike attempts a charging elbow smash, but Fury ducks ending up behind Spike who quickly turns placing a firm forearm into Fury's face. "CRACKK!!" Fury backs away before plunging forward foot first into the gut of his cocky opponent. With Spike hunched over, Fury forces his will on to the man from Hollywood locking the cruiserweight down with a headlock. Showing a bit of charisma the indifferent Fury points toward the audience as he leaps forward attempting to kick of the topes with his feet. "It seems he's trying the Trip to the Dawg Pound." "Can he still do moves like that flashy bulldog"? The answer would be an astounding yes…if Spike wouldn't have tossed Fury over the top rope. Balancing him on the apron, Fury chokes Spike across the top with applying pressure with the head lock. Referee Nick Soapdish is forced to start a five count since Spike is tied up in the ropes and all. ONE TWO Midway through the odd numbered count Spike stomps his feet as he hoists Fury into the ring with a backdrop attempt only to have Fury flip out, landing on his feet. "Showing the balance of a youngster, Fury continues to show the SWF faithful he still has a lot of spark left in him." Disallowing Spike to react, Fury hooks his foot behind the straight edger's lobbying to pull back with a Russian leg sweep. The former cruiserweight champ grasps the top rope denying Fury the advantage. "CRACK!!" And one crushing elbow later Spike has his opponent once again trapped by the go to arm bar. "YEAAAHHH!" The crowd actually cheers the arm bar???? Oh never mind since they are cheering the fact that Zyon has made his intentions to enter the ring. Extending his hand, Zyon calls for his friend to make the tag. Spike visually notices the gesture, and uncharacteristically decides to ignore his tag partner. The crowd doesn't dare jeer Spike, but there are quite a few of them muttering. "It seems Pete that Spike is looking to prove a point." "What? That he and Zyon aren't seeing eye to eye." "No. That he NOT Zyon is the top of the cruiserweight food chain." "CRACKKK!" Spike's decision very well may come back to haunt him as Fury blasts his way free with a closed left hand. Ignoring the ref's spontaneous warning, Fury latches on to Spike's arm Irish whipping him into the opposite corner…the corner where Mistress Sarah dwells. Fury charges smashing Spike with a running clothesline, before making the tag without a second thought. "YEEEEEEAAAAHHH!" The crowd explodes as Mistress Sarah enters the ring as a competitor for the first time in five years. With Spike currently lambasted by the previous charging clothesline, the Mistress takes control with multiple kicks to Spike's gut. And god are they ever sharp. "CRACK!!!" "CRACK!!!!" "CRACKKK!!!" "Gah…" Spike groans as he clutches his sternum hoping for the pain to end. Sarah seems to be enjoying herself as she snapmares Spike out from the turnbuckle and to the ground in a sitting position. Sarah bounces off the ropes launching a basement dropkick toward Spike with HIGH MF'N HEELS!!!! Lucky for Spike he is still in the frame of mind to know that a heel into the eye is a declaration for "fuck that noise." Barely escaping a definite injury, Spike pulls himself back to his feet ready to take on his female foe. "It seems Mistress Sarah has not lost a step." "Why of course not Pete. She likes pleasure. She gets pleasure from hurting others. How could she lose a step on something she may practice so frequently?" Good call King Breathing like he just finished running a few miles, Spike takes a quick peek at his confused partner…and pays for it. "CRACK!!!!" Spike's world is rocked by a swift kick to his head. The straight edger staggers to the side away from Zyon until he can rest in the safety of the turnbuckle…yeah right. Sarah takes a page out of a young rookie's book opting to charges recklessly striking Spike with a beautiful handspring elbow directed at the jaw. Spike's head rocks side to side as he falls from the turnbuckle into Sarah's feminine form. Forgetting to forgive, the Mistress locks Spike in a front face lock driving him vertical with a suplex attempt. Unsure of his ability to take over, Spike actually flips out of the suplex landing on his feet with the grace of a retarded poodle. Spike staggers backward uncontrollably allowing Sarah to continue her offense with a sharp kick to the leg… "crack…" CRACKKKK!!" But Spike strikes back with a one-foot plant plunge forward Yakuza kick. Sarah falls to the mat clutching her face as the straight edger is left with no other options, but to tag in his energetic partner. "YEEEEAAAAHHH!" The crowd explodes as Zyon enters the ring just as Sarah makes it back to her feet. "This has to be the first meeting between these two." "SWF old and new collide…can you feel it PETE!!" "Ugh I guess." "Well that's good. I was just checking." Sarah looks to makes an impact with a tantalizing sweep only to have Zyon dodge the attack with a simple leap. Just as the Mistress gathers herself at a vertical base, Zyon lunges forward looking to take his opponent's head off with a lariat. Sarah though ducks the decapitating strike just in time. Choosing to exit the strategy of harsh strikes Sarah leaps on to Zyon's shoulders. The youth struggles to maintain his balance as the Mistress launches an elbow to the peak of Zyon's head. The cruiserweight champion's eyes twitch as Sarah with a noticeable smirk lifts her elbow high into the air…bringing it down at a reckless pace. Frightened of feeling the pain from earlier, Zyon escapes the deadly elbow by flattening Sarah an electric chair drop!! "Did you see Sarah's face bounce off the canvas?" "Actually no…my attention was diverted." The former Carnival member clutches her face while regaining the precious oxygen she just lost. Zyon though hopes to give his team a winning record dropping on to Sarah with the first cover of the match. ONE… TWO…kickout With her never say die attitude, Sarah pushes Zyon off keeping her team in the match. The radical youngster rolls out to the ring apron before rising to his feet. A slightly fatigued Christian Fury yells instruction to his now standing partner. Rather she hears them or not, Sarah turns horrified by the vision of Zyon diving on to her with a cross body… "CRASHHH!" …correction…diving over her. "I love that offense. You know the type that only works maybe fifty percent of the time." The hurting youth clutches his stomach as Sarah reaches a full vertical base. Clutching his stomach, Zyon also reaches his feet obviously not ready for the spin kick aimed at his chest. "CRACK!!" "OOOOOOO!" The crowd echoes as the heel breaks Zyon's skin for sure. Under his custom made T-shirt is a trickle of blood hidden from the audience. The youth's eye bulge as Sarah quickly makes the tag to Fury an ally during the stable wars. With Zyon basically doubled over the duo of the Mistress Fury hoists Zyon into the air slingshotting him off the top rope dropping back with a double slingshot suplex!!! Sarah quickly exits the ring leaving Fury to cover the man he failed to beat on Lockdown. ONE… TWO…shoulder up. Definitely hurting the youth breaks free with an ultra weak kickout. Fury reaches his feet first followed by Zyon who immediately trudges toward the friendly corner. The Fury though has other ideas as he drops down in an angle placing all of his weight on to the standing ankle of Zyon!!! "GAH!!!" The youth screams in shock as he falls to one knee. That one knee is connected somewhere to the hurt ankle. Understanding that Zyon's ankle is exposed, Fury runs over and kicks Zyon right square in the ankle flattening it against the canvas. Sensing blood the shark like veteran grabs Zyon by the foot, forcefully dragging him over toward the bottom rope. Fury places Zyon leg on to the bottom rope before leaping into the air AND STOMPING ON THE ANKLE in heinous fashion. The youth attempts to scoot away, but Fury traps the foot on the bottom rope again…before making the tag??? "This can not end good for Zyon." The entrance of Mistress Sarah isn't necessarily grand, but it is painful as the fatal female slingshots herself over the top rope driving an elbow on to Zyon's leg bending the ankle in an awkward ankle!!! "OOOOOO!" The crowd chants as one of their favorites grinds his teeth trying to force the pain out of his head. Sarah hurries Zyon back to basically one foot, and now on one foot as she lifts the injured leg off the ground. Grinning from ear to ear, the self-proclaimed bitch spikes Zyon's foot into the mat with a dragon screw. Zyon's ankle could be in an obliterated state as he rolls to the outside in a defensive measure. ONE TWO THREE Referee Nick Soapdish starts his count until the Mistress works her seducement powers on the senior official. While Soapdish is preoccupied with the female, Fury drops from the apron to the floor lifting Zyon to his feet. Acting like an assassin in the dark, Fury shows off his inventive skills spiking Zyon's foot into the ground with a dragon screw, which in turn whips Zyon back first into the unforgiving steel ring post!!!!! "Wow…that was quite the combo." "I do respect both Fury and Sarah, but that was just…" "Just unfair. Yes and cheating is bad, and all that jazz." Referee Nick Soapdish attempts to get back to his count, but a visibly pissed off straight edger hurries into the ring and knocks the Mistress to the mat with a shoulder tackle from behind! Soapdish's attention is once again disrupted as he attempts to force Spike out of the ring who is desperately trying to buy his partner some time. With Spike sedated on his apron, Soapdish gets back to his count. FOUR FIVE SIX Zyon latches on to the ring apron, and then on to the bottom rope looking to pull himself up. SEVEN EIGHT With only two second to spare, Zyon makes the Cow Palace explode by simply pushing himself back into the ring. "YYYYYYYEEEEAAHHH!" The crowd explodes as the agitated female bends over to continue her damage to the youth…ONLY TO HAVE HIM SLIP THROUGH HER FINGERS!!! Zyon hurries around Sarah crawling toward Spike no more than seven inches away…just to be pulled away by the injured ankle. Zyon grunts as his swollen injury is being stretched while he is forced farther and farther away from his current goal… …Until he returns fire with an Enziguri that is!!! "CRR…SWISH!" "Damn." Pete says. Zyon's surprise attack grazes the hair of his feminine opponent, but no flesh or bone is affected in the slightest. The youth lands on his one foot as the Mistress prepares for the standard rebuttal after a missed Enziguri, but Zyon instead dives forward stretching his hand and… … … …MAKING THE TAG!!!! "YYYYEEEAAAH!!" The crowd explodes as Hollywood Spike Jenkins enters the ring like a cliché on fire. The former cruiserweight champion charges knocking Sarah to the mat with a shoulder tackle. Obviously, not going to take the punishment lying down Sarah rises right back to her feet. Unable to defend Spike's high energy assault the Mistress finds herself launched into the ropes via Irish whip. Bouncing off the ropes at a blistering rate, Sarah falls into the arms of the loving Spike…yeah that is bullshit. She falls into his arms, which directs her to the canvas with a railgun suplex. "No doubt Spike picked that up from Mr. Flesher." "Are you saying Spike didn't know that move before his bouts with the Superior One?" "Yeah pretty much." Grabbing the female by her cherry red hair, Spike launches Sarah back first into the turnbuckle nearest Zyon. The Unique Youth enters the ring only to lay on all fours playing the part of Spike for the moment. Spike on the other hand acts like Zyon as he sprints forward leaping off of Zyon's back splashing the female veteran with aggression not flash. The youth quickly rolls out of the ring as Spike forces the Mistress into a standing head scissor!!!!! "RATINGS CRASH!!!" Pete shills like mad. Just as Spike looks to hoist his opponent off the ground, Sarah proves her flexibility to the world sending her heel into the face of Spike barely missing the eye!!! "Spike just about had a career ender…a little to the right next time Sarah." "Oh would you shut up. The only career that's over is yours. Now shut up!!!" "Ouch Pete…ouch." Spike clutches his face as Sarah leaps into the air latching on to Spike head driving him to the mat with a twirling tornado DDT!!! Spike head falls into the mat at a nasty angle as Sarah rolls toward her corner making the tag to one Christian Fury!!!! The veteran actually begins to ascend the top rope reaching into his once flashy past. With little hesitation, and regard for his own well being The Fury leaps high into the air stretching his legs out looking to decapitate Spike with a top rope guillotine leg drop… "CRASH!!" Too bad for the Fury marks out there, but the high risk attack misses. Spike's stubbornness has all but exited as he rolls and tags Zyon into the match. Slightly surprised the youth enters the ring, charging a sitting Fury who clutches his tailbone. Fury though redeems himself in the eyes of those who mark for him as he trips Zyon transitioning into a devastating ankle lock. "OOOOOOOO!!!" The crowd explodes with a mixed reaction as Zyon's eyes bulge out of his head. The youth crawls around the ring like a wild animal while Spike looks on disappointed in his friend. Seriously, Spike looks like a father who just caught his son doing cocaine or something. And since Spike is all straight edge…it's like ten times worse. Spike's reaction doesn't really matter to Zyon who tries his damnest to reach the ropes…and does!!!! "BREAK IT!" Pete yells. Fury ignores Pete's plea as he drags Zyon away from the bottom rope applying a torturous grapevine!!!! "Oh no…" Some in the crowd mutter as Zyon stretches out for the bottom rope, but he is simply too far away. There is no rhyme for Zyon's possible defeat other than the fact that oh never mind Spike just bailed him out! "Hey damnit. C'mon Pete bitch Spike out for breaking the rules would ya." "Spike you big jerk you. Don't help your partner. You lousy dork." Pete totally half assed that. Both Sarah and Fury look at Spike like Hitler would look at a disloyal Jew. Spike could honestly careless as Zyon uses up a lot his energy just to crawl out on to the ring apron. Fury turns his attention away from the new straight edge sensation to the same old Zyon trying to kill himself to get the win. Normally Zyon's springboard bluff would frighten most challengers, but the veteran doesn't fall for it as he charges the youth blasting him in the face with a right hand! Zyon's injured ankle shakes uncontrollably as he tries to balance himself on the ring apron. Focusing all his being on the ring apron Zyon can only watch as Fury lunges forward with another right hand…this time catching Zyon's own hand in the process. Now Fury has a reason to be frightened as the youth carefully uses Fury as a balance leaping on to the top rope. Ironically enough Zyon takes a page of Mistress Sarah's book as he leaps off the top rope from the middle latching both legs around Fury's neck… …Only to be POWER BOMBED TO HELL… …. …FOOL!!!! Zyon's head bounces off the mat leaving the youth's eyes to roll around like a dice controlled by the hand of fate. The ultra bright lights emanating from the top of the Cow Palace blind Zyon as Fury takes a moment to catch his breath. Attempting to channel the spirit of the energizer bunny, Fury tries to keep going, and going, and going by placing multiple boots to the head of Zyon! The Fury forces Zyon back to one foot and a half before launching him into the ropes with an Irish whip. The youth limps off the ropes and over a lying flat Christian Fury into a diving missile dropkick performed by the illegal Mistress Sarah!!!!! "What impact!!" "In other words DAMN!!!" The ex carnival/XF9 members work together like clockwork to take down a common foe. Mistress Sarah cheers on Fury to cover Zyon who looks shell shocked from the recent events. On Lockdown he couldn't get it done, but Fury refuses to make the same mistake twice as he rolls over on to Zyon… ONE… TWO… "This has to be it." THREE!!!!!! NO!!! Spike once again breaks the cover up and gets the professional wrestling version of a slap on the wrist. Fury is certainly beside himself, but Mistress Sarah is absolutely livid. Mentally she must have been torturing herself, but Spike's latest events will allow her to go off the deep end. Back in the ring Fury whips a totally out of it Zyon into the ropes only to have the youth collapse across the middle rope setting up Dead Man's Curve perfectly. "YYYYYYYEEEAAAAH!" The crowd roars as Fury charges forward, but is interrupted by the ref who tries to sedate Sarah who has the whip in her hands. Referee Nick Soapdish could very well be sacrificing his life in the name of being an SWF official, and somewhere Chris Belcourt wishes it were he committing career suicide. Fury mistakes a convulsion for an actual movement from the cruiserweight champ as he charges forward ready to seal the match once and for all. "CRRRRRRRRRRRRAAACK!!!" Spike on the other hand has another idea busting Fury across the face with his very own kendo stick!!!! "WHA!!!!" Both announcers fumble. The crowd decides to make a bunch of noise as Spike tosses the kendo stick away leaving Zyon to do the rest. The youth leans backward looking down on Fury…hesitating. "COVER HIM!!!!!" Spike roars as Zyon can only think about his morals for a second until he looks across the ring at the insane Mistress Sarah with her whip…morals. "COVER HIM!!!!" Ironically enough Sarah exits the ring just as Zyon gives in to Spike's demands. The moment passes by with the fatigue of days on end. ONE…. TWO… And to everyone else… THREEE!!! ….three seconds. DING DING DING!!!!! "The WINNERS, 'Hollywood" Spppppppppiiiiiiiiiikkkkkkkeeee Jennnnkkkkiiinnnss and ZYON!!!!" Funyon booms as Zyon exits the ring limping up the SWF ramp with Spike. Mistress Sarah through all of her anger finds herself at a lost, and Fury. Well he sure does have a nasty knot located between his eyes. "Did you see that Pete. Zyon, the kid who could do no wrong in your eyes just CHEATED to win a match." "But…" "No buts. Spike has been quoted numerous times on saying this fed has no honor." "That is wrong." "Wrong. Is watching Zyon steal a victory wrong. Admit it the kid was beat after that power bomb, hell the ankle lock could have done it. But no he was freed not because of will power or some divine intervention, but by CHEATING." "Yeah, but…" "Oh let's not stop there. What about your son. You expected hugs, what you got was a beatdown. Yeah Pete what honor is there in that." "…." Pete's headphones are heard dropping as the usual cheering is heard after a Zyon win. On the surface everything seems the way it should be, but in the deepest part of the road better traveled is a dead end hidden behind the grin of one Hollywood Spike Jenkins. "ZYON!!" However, none of that matters right now when they are cheering your name…morals.

“He did WHAT?!” The rather demanding question in question comes from a very stunned Todd Cortez, the Urban Legend still breathing heavily from his match as he clutches at his shoulder. “Left,” responds a slightly hassled Joseph Peters. “Quit. Retired. Back to UFC.” “Perfect,” mutters Cortez, shaking his head before striding down the hall of the Cow Palace, reaching out and snagging a water bottle before wrenching the cap off and taking a few chugs. “Fortunately,” continues the SWF’s head honcho, struggling to keep pace with the Urban Legend, “we have a replacement for him.” “Replacement?” asks Cortez, arching an eyebrow. “For the Lethal Lottery?” reminds Peters. “Ah, right,” nods Cortez as the memory comes floating back to him. “So, where is he?” “He’s right…” begins Peters, turning to his right…and finding nothing. “God dammit, not again!” Cortez rolls his eyes as Peters begins jogging back down the hall, the Urban Legend striding behind as they turn a corner…and find a bleach-blonde, 6-foot-tall individual with piercing blue eyes. The object those blue eyes happen to be piercing at the moment? A Coke machine. Peters sighs. “Couldn’t you do this later?” “I’m gonna get a free one,” responds the man determinedly, not taking his eyes off of the machine. Peters groans again. “Later. I need you to meet someone.” With that, the man immediately moves from his crouching position, turning to face the boss and the Urban Legend. Peters looks relieved, but his face immediately changes from relief back to his general business visage. “Right. Allan, this is Todd Cortez. Todd, this is Allan Hadrian. He’s your new partner,” notes Peters, introducing the two to each other. “You can call me Rush,” adds Hadrian with a smirk as he sticks his hand out for a handshake. Todd takes it and gives it a firm pump, then releases it and begins walking away. Like some sort of dog, Hadrian immediately begins following, a look on his face like he’s not quite sure where he is. Knowing him, that’s probably correct. “He’s all yours!” shouts Peters, his voice carrying down the hall after the duo. “Fantastic,” groans Todd. FADE OUT

Pete: “And we are back live from the Cow Palace for Smarkdown!” King: “You’ve been doing this job too long. You’re starting to run out of witty ways to welcome the fans back to the show.” Pete: “And what would you say to welcome the fans back?” King: “I don’t know. Something wittier than welcome back.” Pete: “Can we get on with it? It’s only a two hour show and we’re starting to run long as it is.” King: “Absolutely. Grouch.” Longdogger Pete shoots a look over to his colleague before continuing. Pete: “Up next, we’ll be seeing Jay Hawke in the ring for the first time since Clusterfuck when he takes on Todd Cortez.” King: “And if you look at the scores here, Pete, you’ll notice that it’s Jay Hawke 2, Todd Cortez nothing. Face it, Cortez is simply another in a long line of people who can’t beat Jay Hawke, and I, for one, am just happy common sense prevailed with the championship committee since this is a non-title match.” Pete: “There’s certainly no doubt that Jay Hawke has had Cortez’s number in their first two meetings, but what would you say Cortez needs to do to beat Hawke in this one?” King: “Simple. Not only does he need to keep this from turning into a mat-based match, but he also needs to protect his back. Hawke won the first two matches not by weakening the shoulder as he normally does, but by working over Cortez’s back. As for Hawke, he might want to consider working the shoulder like he normally does. I would think Cortez would take my advice, at least if he knows what’s good for them, so Hawke might want to keep Cortez from making adjustments.” Pete: “It’s bound to be a fantastic match either way. For the particulars, let’s go up to Funyon for the introductions.” Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen, the following non-title contest is scheduled for one fall with a 15-minute time limit.” In a matter of seconds, the lights in the arena dim, and the familiar opening strains of Pink Floyd’s “Learning to Fly” come over the PA, causing the crowd to bust into a chorus of boos. Funyon: “Introducing first, from the Hall of Fame City of Cleveland, Ohio, and weighing in tonight at 215 pounds. He is the reigning SWF International Champion … ‘The Dean of Professional Wrestling’ … JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY HAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWKE!” As the International Champion emerges from the curtain, a lone spotlight shines on him, accentuating the sequins on his always present purple-and-black robe. He continues to walk into the ring, bathing in the spotlight as the crowd starts its familiar chant: “JAY HAWKE SUCKS! JAY HAWKE SUCKS! JAY HAWKE SUCKS!” As always, the Dean of Wrestling ignores the crowd, entering the ring and removing his robe to reveal the title belt that he’s held for so long that it might as well be tattooed onto his waist. He then removes his title belt and hands it to the timekeeper as "Oh No" by Mos Def, Nate Dogg, and Pharoah Monche hits. Funyon: “And his opponent…” The fans bust into a loud set of cheers at that. Hey, gotta put Funyon over somehow! Funyon: “From Hollywood Boulevard, and weighing in at 226 pounds … ‘The Urban Legend’ … TODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD CORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTEZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!” “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! COR-TEZ! COR-TEZ! COR-TEZ!” The first time Nate Dogg shouts "Oh No", a quick burst of pyro shoots up from both sides of the ramp, showering Cortez in sparkles as he prepares to walk down the aisle. He makes his way to the ring, slapping hands with fans as he makes his way to the ring. Cortez enters the ring and raises both arms into the air, eliciting a pop as he makes sure to keep both eyes firmly on his opponent. Pete: “Smart move by Cortez, making sure Hawke can’t cheap shot him from behind.” King: “And taking all the fun out of the start of the match while he’s at it.” DING DING DING! With the match officially underway, Jay Hawke and Todd Cortez make their way to the center of the ring. They lock up collar-and-elbow, each man attempting to jockey for position, but neither man is able to gain any sort of advantage, so they release the lock-up. “These two men are just about even strength-wise,” says Pete as the two combatants lock up again. They jockey for position again, but Hawke turns around and locks Cortez into a side headlock. Hawke wrenches down on it, attempting to secure the proper leverage to keep the Urban Legend grounded. Cortez plants his feet and pushes the International Champion forward, sending Jay Hawke into the ropes. Hawke rebounds off, and Cortez grabs him coming in and takes him over with a headlock takedown. Cortez maintains the headlock as Hawke’s shoulders fall to the mat: ONE! TWO! THR -- shoulder up. Pete: “Cortez nearly caught the International Champion napping right there!” King: “Only momentarily, I assure you, Pete! You are not going to beat a man with an eight month title reign with a simple side headlock.” Cortez maintains the headlock, attempting to squeeze the life out of the Dean of Professional Wrestling. Hawke hooks Cortez’s pants and rolls the Urban Legend onto his shoulders: ONE! TWO! Cortez gets his shoulders up and rolls back over while maintaining the side headlock, and Jay Hawke’s shoulders fall to the canvas again: ONE! TWO! Shoulder up. Pete: “An impressive display of wrestling in the early going here.” King: “Not Cortez’s normal style here.” Pete: “But he has always been capable of wrestling this style of match. Maybe he feels you need to beat the technical wrestler with technical wrestling.” King: “But where’s the fun in that?” While still locked in the side headlock, Jay Hawke slowly begins to make his way to his feet. As he stands, Hawke grabs Cortez by the waist and picks him up, dropping Cortez back-first onto his knee. However, Cortez hangs on to the headlock, and as Hawke tries to execute yet another backbreaker, he kicks his feet to take Hawke over with yet another side headlock takedown, once again driving Hawke’s shoulders flat onto the canvas: ONE! TWO! THRE -- shoulder up! Pete: “Hawke was unable to get the full brunt of that backbreaker, and Cortez keeps the headlock on and maintains control of the contest.” King: “It’s like I said earlier! Hawke might want to consider using a different strategy from the previous two meetings, because Cortez is not likely to allow Hawke to work on the back too much.” Once again, Jay Hawke gets to his feet while still locked in the headlock. Hawke turns his body to alleviate some of the pressure, then locks Cortez into a bear hug. Hawke tries to add some pressure to it, but Cortez is quick to wring his arms around Hawke’s head and neck, forcing Hawke to drop to his knees and release the bear hug while allowing Cortez to reapply the headlock. Pete: “Can you believe this, King? Todd Cortez has been absolutely relentless with that side headlock!” King: “But nobody knows how to get out of this hold better than Jay Hawke does! He’ll find his way out of this hold sooner rather than later!” Jay Hawke once again makes his way to his feet. This time Jay Hawke lifts Cortez into the air and falls backwards, driving Cortez into the mat and finally getting the hold broken. Hawke shakes his head for a moment before crawling over into a cover: ONE! TWO! Kickout. The International Champion gets to his feet and goes to pull Cortez off the mat, but Cortez leaps up and catches Hawke underneath the chin with a European uppercut that sends saliva flying out of the Dean’s mouth. With Hawke staggering backwards, Cortez follows it up with a spin kick that knocks Hawke flat onto his back, then drops down for the cover: ONE! TWO! Jay Hawke rolls out of the cover, rolling out of the ring to try to catch his breath. King: “Brilliant move! Take a few minutes to gather your thoughts before going to work on your opponent!” “But keep your eye on Cortez!” shouts Pete as Todd Cortez runs forward, leaps onto the top rope, and lands on Hawke with a springboard somersault plancha just as Hawke makes his way to his feet! “COR-TEZ! COR-TEZ! COR-TEZ!” The Urban Legend basks in the adulation of the crowd momentarily, then grabs the Dean of Professional Wrestling and rolls him into the ring. Quick as a cat, Cortez hops up onto the apron, then springboards off the top rope and drops a leg across Hawke’s chest. Cortez immediately goes for the cover: ONE! TWO! Kickout. Pete: “Beautiful springboard leg drop, and this bout has been virtually all Todd Cortez thus far!” King: “Treat this like a title match, Jay! Do something!” Jay does something. Two somethings, actually. First, he stands up. Second, he falls back down, courtesy of a Todd Cortez super kick. And less than a second after Hawke has hit the mat, Cortez goes right back for another cover: ONE! TWO! Kickout. Pete: “Tremendous match so far! Todd Cortez is wasting no time, going for the pin whenever he gets a moment!” King: “And give credit to Jay Hawke, as he continues to kick out of everything Cortez is dishing out at him!” Todd Cortez leans in to pick Jay Hawke off the canvas, but Jay Hawke pulls the Urban Legend by the front of his pants and leverages him forward, sending him to the floor. The Urban Legend lands on his feet and quickly makes his way to the ring apron. Cortez uses the top rope as a springboard and goes for a shooting star lariat, but as he completes the flip and extends his right arm for the clothesline, Hawke leaps up and dropkicks Cortez, catching his opponent in the right shoulder. Pete: “Oh no!” King: “Oh yes! Now you’re going to see Jay Hawke do what he does best! Todd Cortez, we hardly knew ye!” And the International Champion wastes absolutely no time, dropping down and hooking the Urban Legend’s arm, putting all of his weight along the right shoulder while pulling back on said arm. Pete: “Fujiwara armbar applied, and Todd Cortez is trapped in the center of the ring!” King: “And working on the right arm. Normally, Hawke works the left arm, but as we saw at Clusterfuck, he is just as proficient at working on his opponent’s right arm as he is on the left arm!” Cortez pushes himself up onto his knees, then rolls forward to get out of the hold. Cortez charges again, but Hawke is quick to hook the right arm. Funyon: “Five minutes have gone by, ten minutes remains in the time limit.” Jay Hawke leaps up, and drives the arm down into the canvas. Maintaining his grip on the arm, Hawke once again puts all of his weight on the shoulder as he reapplies the Fujiwara armbar. King: “Brilliant! Hawke has made the right arm a target, and unlike Dick Cheney, he knows how to hit his target every time!” Hawke pulls back even further on the arm, and Cortez balls his left arm into a fist to prevent himself from being tempted to tap out. As the pain becomes apparent on the Urban Legend’s face, the crowd at the Cow Palace begins to get behind their favorite: “LET’S GO TODD! LET’S GO TODD! LET’S GO TODD!” Pete: “Listen to this crowd try to rally behind Todd Cortez like the sixth man in basketball!” King: “You’d think you’d know by now that Jay Hawke rarely, if ever, even listens to the crowd. It’s going to have no effect! No effect!” The crowd might not affect Jay Hawke, but it does have a positive effect on Todd Cortez. He uses the chants of the crowd as motivation and begins to crawl over to the ropes. He continues his slow crawl as the crowd continues to root him on. He’s a foot away… “LET’S GO TODD!” ..six inches away… “LET’S GO TODD!” …three inches away… “LET’S GO TODD!” …two inches away… ‘LET’S GO--NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Only for Jay Hawke to release the hold and drop a knee across the shoulder. King: “That’s one way to get the crowd out of the match, huh Pete?” Jay Hawke drags Todd Cortez to the center of the ring by the arm, then drops a leg across the upper right arm before quickly turning it into a short arm scissors. The Urban Legend grimaces in pain as his shoulders fall to the mat: ONE! TWO! Shoulder up. Hawke continues to maintain the pressure of the hold, and once again Cortez’s shoulders fall to the mat: ONE! TWO! Shoulder up. As Hawke continues to maintain the pressure of the hold, Cortez once again hears the rallying chanting of the crowd: “LET’S GO TODD! LET’S GO TODD! LET’S GO TODD!” …and begins to roll the Dean of Wrestling over onto his shoulders. Hawke tries to fight it but can’t: ONE! TWO! THR -- Jay Hawke rolls Cortez back onto his back, but Cortez’s feet end up landing on the bottom rope. Jay Hawke initially refuses to release the hold until referee Nick Soapdish begins the disqualification count: ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! Jay Hawke finally releases the hold, but gets a couple of solid stomps to the shoulder in for good measure. Hawke then drags Cortez out to the center of the ring, again stomping away at the shoulder before dropping down to his knees and trying to choke the life out of Cortez: ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! Hawke releases the choke, but for maybe half a second before going right back to it: ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! And again. ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! And one more time. ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! Soapdish has finally had enough and begins to yell at Hawke about the chokeholds, but Hawke merely smirks as he drops a knee into the Urban Legend’s shoulder while keeping a grip on the wrist and yanking back. Pete: “Hawke’s unrelentess on that shoulder!” King: “That’s your favorite word tonight. Unrelentess. But you’re right. Hawke isn’t going to lay off of that shoulder until that final bell rings.” Hawke turns the hold into a hammerlock, and Cortez begins to make his way to his feet. As Cortez stands, Hawke drives a knee into the ribs to double his opponent over, then positions Todd and pushes him forward, driving the right shoulder into the ringpost. King: “And there’s your usual precision attack from Jay Hawke. If Todd Cortez’s arm remains attached to the rest of his body, he’ll be able to wrap it around his waist like a championship belt.” As Cortez staggers to the ring clutching at the right arm, Jay Hawke stands behind him with an evil grin on his face. He goes for the Wing Span, locking the chickenwing but not quite locking his hands on the crossface attempt. As Hawke makes one last grasp at locking the hold in, Cortez shifts his weight, runs forward, and drives Hawke’s face into the top turnbuckle, completely releasing Jay Hawke’s grip on the hold and bringing the capacity crowd to its feet. Pete: “What a counter! Todd Cortez fought off the crossface chickenwing setup for the Wing Span, and that might very well have been the break he needed!” King: “But Hawke’s worked over the shoulder for the better part of five minutes now! Is Cortez going to have the strength to put him away at this point?” Both combatants struggle to make their way to their feet. Jay Hawke goes for a right hand, but Cortez blocks it and levels Hawke with a European uppercut. Cortez favors the arm, but unleashes another. Cortez hits six more hard European forearm uppercuts, favoring his shoulder after each one but rocking Hawke back into the corner. Hawke moves out of the corner, and Cortez kicks him in the gut before lifting him into a Canadian backbreaker and dropping him down with a neck breaker. Pete: “Neck Wrecker by Cortez, and notice he did that on the left side to keep the pressure off the right shoulder!” King: “But how much effort does each of these moves take? Granted, he’s using the healthy shoulder, but he’s right-handed! His healthy side is his weaker side!” The Urban Legend tries to crawl over into a cover, but Jay Hawke rolls toward the ropes. Cortez makes his way to his feet and grabs Hawke, pulling him into a standing position. Cortez then protects his shoulders by using his feet, leveling the International Champion with a series of kicks to the thighs and ribs that brings the Dean to his knees, then catching him in the temple with a roundhouse kick. Hawke collapses the canvas as Cortez goes for the pin: ONE! TWO! THR -- Jay Hawke just barely rolls the right shoulder up. Cortez gets to his feet and begins calling for Hawke to get to his. Hawke slowly obliges, and Cortez levels Hawke with a series of forearm smashes to the face. Cortez then whips Jay Hawke into the corner. Funyon: “Ten minutes have gone by, five minutes remain in the time limit.” Todd Cortez charges, going for a handspring elbow, but Jay Hawke lifts his knee, catching the Urban Legend in the back. Hawke immediately rolls Cortez up into a schoolboy cradle: ONE! Jay Hawke puts his feet on the ropes for leverage. TWO! Pete: “Don’t let it end this way!” THR -- Nick Soapdish sees the feet on the ropes and refuses to finish the count. King: “Dammit!” Pete: “Jay Hawke tried to steal another one, but he was unable to before Soapdish spotted it and stopped the count!” Jay Hawke argues with the referee, enabling Todd Cortez to roll him up into a schoolboy cradle of his own: ONE! TWO! THR -- NO! King: “And Jay Hawke kicks out of the roll up!” Pete: “And the pace is picking up! You’d have to think this favors Todd Cortez if this keeps up!” Hawke, perhaps out of desperation, goes for a wild lariat. Cortez ducks and ends up behind Hawke, locking him in a waistlock. Cortez goes for a German suplex, but Hawke rolls forward, locking Cortez into a picture-perfect Victory roll: Funyon: “Four minutes remain in the time limit…” ONE! Funyon: “…four minutes!” TWO! Jay Hawke reaches forward and grabs the ropes for leverage. THR -- Todd Cortez manages to kick out just before the count of three! King: “I don’t believe this! Hawke won the first meeting with a roll up, and Cortez got out. He won the second with the Victory roll, and again he kicked out!” Pete: “And both times Hawke tried to cheat his way to victory!” Jay Hawke again goes for a wild lariat, and again Todd Cortez ducks. Cortez kicks Hawke in the midsection, then quickly grabs him by the back of the head and drives the champion’s head into the canvas. Pete: “DDT, and that should do it! There’s the cover!” ONE! TWO! THRE -- OHMYGODHOWDIDHEGETOUTOFTHAT? King: “Oh my God!” Pete: “How did he get out that?” Undaunted, Todd Cortez quickly drags Jay Hawke up to his feet. Todd Cortez locks Jay Hawke into a standing head scissors, sending the crowd buzzing. Pete: “This could be it right here, King! He could be going for the Riot Act Plus!” King: “He won’t get it! He can’t! Whether Cortez wanted the Riot Act Plus or not we’ll never know, as Hawke counters with a backdrop. Cortez rolls through it and takes Hawke into a sunset flip: Funyon: “Three minutes remain in the time limit…” ONE! Funyon: “…three minutes.” TWO! Hawke rolls out of the move and quickly cradles both of Cortez’s feet: ONE! TWO! Kickout. The Dean immediately goes for a lariat, but Cortez ducks and locks in a waistlock. Hawke reverses and lifts Cortez off the canvas, attempting the German suplex, but Cortez rolls forward and cradles the Dean into a Victory roll: ONE! TWO! THRE -- Jay Hawke kicks out just before Nick Soapdish’s hand slaps the mat for the third time. Both men get to their feet, and the Urban Legend jumps up, cradling Hawke’s arms and taking him down with a crucifix: ONE! TWO! Kickout. Both men quickly get to their feet, and Cortez quickly levels Hawke in the side of the head with a jumping side kick. Hawke drops to his knees, and Cortez again locks in the standing head scissors… Pete: “Another attempt at the Riot Act Plus here?” …but Jay Hawke places his left foot further back than his right, preventing Todd Cortez from getting enough leverage to complete the move. Cortez levels Hawke with a series of forearm smashes into the back and tries to go on the offensive, this time going for a power bomb. Funyon: “Two minutes remain in the time limit, two minutes!” Jay Hawke avoids the move, sliding behind the back and locking Cortez into a waistlock. Hawke runs Cortez into the ropes and goes for a rolling reverse cradle, but Cortez rolls through it and cradles Hawke: ONE! TWO! THR -- Jay Hawke pulls Cortez by the pants and reverses the roll up: ONE! TWO! Jay Hawke leans back and hooks the middle rope. THREE! DING DING DING! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Pete: “You’ve got to be kidding me!” King: “Once again, Jay Hawke finds a way to win!” Funyon: “In 13 minutes 26 seconds, the winner of this contest … JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY HAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWKE!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! BULL-SHIT! BULL-SHIT! BULL-SHIT!” Pete: “I can’t believe this! Once again Jay Hawke cheats his way to victory! I can’t remember the last time he won without using the ropes or a foreign object or something!” King: “But all it will say in the record books is Jay Hawke pinned Todd Cortez with a rolling reverse cradle! Nobody is going to remember he used the ropes a month from now!” Pete: “Even so, you can bet that one of these days, these illegal tactics will backfire on him! When will that be? We’ll have to wait and see. More action still to come after this!”

With an important main event match in the Lethal Lottery tournament and a future Number One Contenders match against one of the fastest Cruiserweights in the company, Spike Jenkins has a lot on his mind. As he does his pre-match stretches, the locker room door swings open and in stomps the SWF Cruiserweight Champion and Spike’s tag team partner, Zyon. “Spike!” Zyon shouts, “What is this I hear about you going to Joseph Peters about getting a title shot after I told you I wasn’t going to give you one?” “Well…” Spike starts as he rises to a full stance, “I believe you just answered your own question.” “I can’t believe how selfish you are! We have a shot at winning the Lethal Lottery and getting a rematch for the tag team titles…and you are go over my head and behind my back to get a title match AT ME?” “I told you, man. I deserve a rematch and I want it.” “Is this because I eliminated you from the Clusterfuck? Damn it, Spike! It was every man for himself!” “It is ALWAYS every man for himself,” says Spike as he attempts to walk past Zyon and out the door, but Zyon grabs him by the arm and turns him around. “What is that suppose to mean? Are you trying to tell me something about this Lethal Lottery tournament? Because despite the fact that you want a title shot from me, I still want to win this thing!” “Hey, I want to win this thing, too. And don’t worry. My mind is on tonight and the tournament.” “Then why are you going after my title when I said I won’t defend it against you?” “Yeah, the whole ‘ruin our friendship’ thing. You know what? Just to ease your mind, I’ll make you a promise. Just like at Ramadomination when you beat me, I will shake your hand before the match and after the match, whomever the winner is and…when you lose.” “…When I lose…I think you should worry about beating Labertino before getting your shot at me…but more importantly, you should worry about tonight.” “Don’t worry. I’m all set to go.” “You better be. I’m counting on you out there.” Zyon nods his head and walks past Spike, walking out of the locker room. Jenkins looks down at the floor, nods, and continues with his stretching as we fade into a commercial.

Smarkdown returns from a commercial for the upcoming SWF household goods store, Blood, Barbed Wire, and Beyond, revealing Jimmy the Doom in front of a rust-colored backdrop. In what's obviously a pre-taped segment, Doom is seated on a bar stool, leaning backwards. Soon after, an eye-sodomizing graphic flashes on screen that will not be recreated here. The general information, though, is that it's another installment of Doomtopian History with Jimmy the Doom and Lois the Unethical. "Often welcomes! Twice is the number for Doomtopian Histories!" Doom exclaims brightly, shooting double finger-pistols to the camera. "That's right Jimmy. Say, what should we talk about today?" Lois asks, simply glad to have a speaking role. "Lois, much goodness in that query. I am much to thinking a trip to distantly pasts. 1268 being the years of this time, and fourth Clement Pope was to being the dead. But, low! Noble Doomtopian cardinal of named Ilgyrtch Pilsterm was be choice for newly Popeness! Nowing of namey Poped Broadus, he was to not being last long, as Broadus Pope to being appoint Archbishop of Canterbury Donald Campbell, much of controversy, sinces Campbell having to proclamate himself of wizardry, and referring to his owness as Don 'Magic' Juan. Much additionally, Poping Broadus was to making manies statements of regards towarding a 'Pope hand', being keep of it strongly, and to the threaten much cardinals, bishops, and priestlies of a 'Pope slap' iffing they to not haves monies and tithings for God," Jimmy states. "What a very interesting story, Jimmy! Say, with today being Valentine's Day, are there any moments in Doomtopian history that involve Valentine's Day or love?" Lois asks. "No! Valentine's Day is a cheap sham of love, and no Doomtopian would stoop to such paltry levels! A Doomtopian does not need a manufactured holiday to be reminded to express his or her feelings towards his or her true love, which, in the case of Doomtopians is presentation of a head of red cabbage and a shared dinner of giraffe heart," Doom says, apparently reading a prepared statement, as that can be the only explanation for his sudden loss of his foreigner accent. "To beings the joins next for times on Doomtopia Historicals, as be the currency of Doomtopian politicals systemastery!" With that, Smarkdown heads to commercial by way of a mother fucking star wipe.

“Yeah! Damn right, we beat their asses!” These and other enthusiastic celebratory noises can be heard down the corridors of the Cow Palace. “See? See!? What did I fuckin’ tell ya! You know what, you don’t know shit, ya get me? I told you I could wrestle, innit!” a female voice declares stridently. “Hey now girl, I don’t see how what you did could be called ‘wrasslin’,” the first, deeper voice answers, “all I saw you do was hit two guys and choke out that midget in the gold.” Two figures come round the corner. One is male, well on the way to being seven feet tall; massive, chunky and reasonably hairy. The other is female, a shade under six feet and has a figure that could best be described as ‘attractively generous’. “Oh yeah?” Amy Stephens says, aiming a kick at Bruce Blank’s knee brace, “at least I did it without wearin’ fuckin’ armour to the ring, hopalong!” “Now, I’ll have you know that I have a goddamn medical certificate for this!” Blank protests, only the faintest hint of a smile giving him away, “I need this!” “Whatever,” Amy snorts, “din’t stop your wrestling from stinkin’.” She starts to stride off, but Bruce just leans against the wall. “OK, OK,” he says, “raising his hands, “maybe - and I do mean maybe - you ain’t such a bad partner after all, it could definitely be worse. I should’ve known Peters ain’t a good judge of things.” “Yeah well,” Amy snorts, “that twat thought I should have a ‘Diva’ contract, and it were that Judge bloke who talked him into givin’ me a wrestler’s one, and now he’s gone and fired him! Don’t get started on Peters with me, ya get me?” The big man doesn’t even say anything he just kinda snorts in contempt as he thinks back at all the trouble he had with Peters over the family friendly rules. Finally Bruce says. “Now as far as I figure we’ve still got some teamin’ to do – quite a bit if we can come to an understanding and actually work TOGETHER in the ring.” “I’m lissnin,” Amy says, crossing her arms. “OK. First of all, I won’t call you ‘little girl’, or anything like that, right?” “Better bloody not.” “And you,” Bruce says, pointing at Amy, “don’t hit me in the family jewels EVER again, OK?” “Wouldn’t wanna go there twice,” Amy grins. “Alright, sorted. If I’m gonna be in this bloody tournament with a partner we might as well win some matches and kick some arse.” She brightens up. “Fancy a beer?” “Now you’re talking my language!”

“Well, strong words there from Bruce Blank,” Longdogger Pete exclaims as the SWF comes back from commercials, “and the big man is already in the ring waiting for his tag partner; however, given what’s already gone down tonight between them I’m not sure if we’ll have to wait for their opponents for fists to start flying!” “Huh,” King snorts, “I’d like to see Amy try and take Bruce on in a straight fight instead of suckerpunching him like she did before.” “King, you know as well as I do that it wasn’t a suckerpunch. It was quite clearly a kick,” Pete reprimands his partner. Meanwhile in the ring, Bruce Blank has apparently got tired of waiting and snatches the microphone of Funyon before raising it to his mouth: “Hey c’mon girl, you still doing your make-up or something?” the King of Pain bawls, clearly unimpressed with the time elapsed so far. However, no sooner are the words out of his mouth then ‘Blitzkrieg Bop’ kicks up for the second time this evening, and Amy Stephens steps out of the back with a can of lager in hand! “YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “Bruce Blank’s tag team partner,” Funyon declares, “from Nottingham, England; she weighs in tonight at 171lbs, this is the ‘Punk-Rock Princess’… AAAAAAMMMMMMYYYYYY… STEEEEEEEEEEE-PHENS!!” The crowd response is a bit better now that she’s not only won a match but also kicked the Ultraviolent Champion in his testicles, and Amy salutes the fans with her can before racing down to the ring (careful not to spill any, mind you) and slipping under the bottom rope before climbing to the second buckle and leading the crowd in a chant: “HEY! HO! LET’S GO!” “HEY! HO! LET’S GO!” “HEY! HO! LET’S GO!” “HEY! HO! LET’S GO!” As Joey Ramone launches into the first verse proper Amy hops back down from the turnbuckles… and turns around to find Bruce looming over her. The King of Pain’s face looks like a particularly ugly thundercloud, but Amy doesn’t seem that concerned and takes a big swig of her lager before passing it casually to Bruce to hold and then barging past him to begin her pre-match stretches. Bruce glares over his shoulder at her… then looks back at the lager in his hand, shrugs, and takes a pull. “Well, they have one unifying factor at least,” LDP says. As Amy starts to warm up there is a sudden commotion on the soundstage… “NIGHT OF FIRE!” The familiar theme music of Ced Ordonez has kicked up over the PA and as flames shoot skywards the Tag-Champion-turned-referee’s dancers come out and begin dancing, shaking their bodies to the beat for a few seconds before everyone’s favourite mecha-masked Phillipino heads out. “And their opponents,” Funyon booms, “first, from Sacramento, California; he weighs in tonight at 209lbs, this is the DDR Referee… CEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDD… ORDOOOOOOOOO-NEEEEEEZZZZZZZZ!!” “Doesn’t that seem like an awfully elaborate entrance for someone who never wins?” King asks as Ced and his troupe start busting impressive DDR moves. “Shush, he’s SWF staff,” Pete chides his partner, “he’s served long and well and deserves a bit of luxury.” “I guess you’re right. I mean, Crimson Skull has dancers too and he’s not even full-time!” Halfway down the entrance ramp Ordonez stops, looking up at the ring. It’s difficult to read Ced’s expression behind the mask that he wears for matches, but might that be nervousness in his eyes? After all, Ced witnessed close-up the devastation of the Japanese Deathmatch with Bruce Blank and Akira Kaibatsu in - so close, in fact, that Bruce hid behind him to shelter from the final explosion. “Come on Ced, don’t let him intimidate you!” Suicide King shouts cheerfully. “He only wants to destroy all cruiserweights, you’ve got nothing to worry about!” “And his tag team partner,” Funyon booms, “from Tocula, Mexico…” ‘OLE, OLE OLE OLEEEE! OLLLLEEEEE! OLLLLEEEEE!’ ‘Ole’ by the Bouncing Souls starts up to a reasonable reaction from the Californian crowd and the masked Mexican luchador heads out, waving at the fans. “…he weighs in tonight at 220lbs,” Funyon continues, “this is LABERRRRRRRR-RRRRIIIIIIIIINNNNNNTTOOOOOOOOO!!” Laberinto and Ordonez exchange quick looks and a high five, then rush the ring and charge under the bottom rope before popping up to their feet- *SMACK!* -only to be taken straight back down again by stereo right hands from Bruce and Amy, who seem to have independently come to the conclusion that a quick start is the best way to play this! *DING-DING-DING!* Laberinto and Ced are back up to their feet almost immediately, where Amy latches onto Ced and Bruce and Laberinto square off. Amy Irish whips her part-time referee opponent into the ropes, but Ced reverses and sends her into the cables instead. He then ducks his head for a back bodydrop but telegraphed the move and Amy kills her momentum, then hooks his arms and twists around as if for a backslide. However, once she’s back to back with Ced she locks her hands together behind his head as if for a reverse full nelson, then drops down in a neckbreaker! “OK, that has to hurt,” King comments. Meanwhile, Laberinto has ducked under a meaty swing from Blank and starts firing kicks into his knee with the brace on. However, this doesn’t seem like such a good idea as the first kick hits the brace and causes the Mexican to hop around holding his foot! Bruce grins and backs up, then charges in with a clothesline… *SMACK!* …but staggers back again as Laberinto leaps up to plant a Dropsault square in his chest! “What a counter!” Pete yells, “Laberinto jumped off one foot to hit Bruce with that move!” The masked Mexican now turns his attention to Amy Stephens as Bruce tries to regain his wind, Laberinto creeping up behind the Punk-Rock Princess and wrapping his hands around her head for the Uno Momento, but Amy grabs his hands and prises them away from her cranium! She then twists around, crossing Laberinto’s arms in front of him as she does so, using her grip on her opponent to pull him towards her and straight into- *CRUNCH!* -a headbutt! “Of course, Amy’s brother Toxxic uses that move under the name of the Underkill,” Pete explains, “so he probably showed her how to counter it at some point!” “That or the fact that Laberinto sucks,” King points out, “I mean come on, when you’re stealing moves from Toxxic and Landon Maddix…” Regardless of the suction abilities of the masked Mexican Laberinto is sent staggering backwards by Amy’s headbutt, but his bad luck doesn’t stop there as Bruce has now regained his wind and he accelerates forward to deliver a stunning enzui-clothesline that drops Laberinto to the mat with authority!. Amy crosses her arms and glares at her tag team partner, who glowers back… then suddenly strides forward and fires a big cowboy boot at her head! Amy ducks at the last moment- *WHAM!* -and Bruce hits Ced, who was about to grab Amy from behind! The Punk-Rock Princess gets back to her feet and regards her tag partner suspiciously, who whistles innocently as he kicks Ordonez in the ribs, trying to move the part-time ref under the bottom rope and out of the ring. “OK, you tell me King,” Longdogger Pete says, “was that excellent teamwork or just incompetent infighting?” It doesn’t seem that Amy and Bruce are going to have a chance to pull it off again though, as referee Brian Warner is screaming for one of them to leave the ring. Bruce points, demanding that Amy goes, but the young lady from Nottingham just flicks him a two-fingered salute in response. After a few seconds of standoff Bruce heaves a long-suffering sigh and steps over the rope before pointing at Amy again and clearly saying something along the lines of ‘if you mess this up…’ Amy, delicate flower that she is, just grabs her right bicep with her left hand and makes an obscene pumping motion in his direction. She then turns around to deal with Laberinto, who is now picking himself up off the mat holding the back of his head. Amy grabs him and hauls him up into a front facelock ready for a DDT, but Laberinto manages to prise her arm loose from around his head, then hooks his leg behind hers and pushes to send her down to the mat. Amy hits her head on landing and stays down long enough for the luchador to step out to the apron, then take the top rope in both hands and slingshot back in to crush his opponent’s ribcage with a somersault senton! “Well, it looks like Bruce Blank’s dream of holding another SWF Title is already taking a battering from Amy Stephens,” King sighs, “honestly Pete, who thought putting a girl in this tournament was a good plan?” Laberinto raises his hands in the air to receive a pop from the Californian crowd, then turns to focus on Amy as the youngest member of the Stephens family gets to her feet. The luchador measures her, then lashes out with a knife-edge chop! *SMACK!* “WHOOO!” The thing is, you see, that Laberinto (along with most of the SWF roster) is used to fighting men. Most of the male SWF athletes who aren’t roid users have firm, manly chests. Amy doesn’t, and what Laberinto just did could probably be interpreted as indecent assault. ‘OW!’ she shrieks, clutching her breasts and taking a step back. Laberinto suddenly seems to realise what he’s done and steps forward, raising his hands in a conciliatory gesture… which lasts right until Amy’s eyes narrow and she hurl herself bodily at the Mexican in what is probably a Lou Thesz Press! “YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” The move actually gets a small pop, largely from the women present in the arena, as Amy bowls the apologetic luchador over and then begins hammering him in the face with right hands! “I think Laberinto has just learned a lesson in manners!” Pete splutters, laughing as Brian Warner stops warning Amy about the use of the closed fist and just hauls her off Laberinto. “He needs to learn how to treat a woman!” King agrees, causing his commentary partner to glance sideways at him. “For the record, King… how do you treat a woman?” “That’s not important,” King sniffs, “what’s important is that afterwards, you pay her the pre-agreed fee.” Laberinto is holding his head as Amy makes her way back to him, and the Punk-Rock Princess drags him up before delivering another headbutt just to make sure and then placing him in a front facelock to drag him over to where Bruce Blank is waiting in the corner. The King of Pain just looks at her for a second until Amy sighs and extends one hand. Bruce reaches out and tags himself in, then steps lazily over the top rope before burying a cowboy boot into the ribs of the trapped Laberinto! The breath whooshes out of the lungs of the beleaguered luchador who drops down to one knee; meanwhile, Bruce ushers the fuming Amy to one side with a contemptuous wave of his hand. Unfortunately Amy doesn’t take kindly to that, and as Bruce reaches down to grab Laberinto’s head Amy boots the Mexican in the face, sending him sprawling onto his back and momentarily out of her tag partner’s reach! “Well, Amy is at least taking her frustration out on her opponents instead of on Bruce,” LDP notes, “and at the moment her and Bruce are the more dominant of these two somewhat thrown-together tag teams.” “If one team has the King of Pain on it and the other team is two masked morons with the combined bodyweight of a pickled herring, that goes without saying,” King replies, exaggerating just a little. Amy steps through the ropes as Bruce says something uncomplimentary to her, then reaches down to grab Laberinto. The Ultraviolent Champion proceeds to hammer big right hands into the luchador’s head once, twice, three times before Brian Warner steps in to stop him, then backs off - favouring his leg as he does so. “Oh come on,” Pete shouts, “we’ve seen that leg is perfectly healthy!” “Rubbish,” King snaps, “Bruce is so tough he can block out the agonising pain sometimes Pete, but he’s only human!” Bruce seems to be trying to explain to Warner that with that dodgy leg what else is he expected to do except punch the man? Warner is unimpressed however and Bruce just laughs before reaching down to grab Laberinto by the head and heave him to his feet, then grab the luchador in both hands and hoist him up into the air in a military press! “See!?” LDP shouts, “his leg’s fine!” “He’s wearing something called a ‘knee brace’,” King say patiently, “which is to ‘brace’ his ‘knee’.” Bruce begins to press Laberinto above his head, showing off his amazing strength as he bounces all of the Mexican’s 220lbs once, twice, three times, four times, five ti- *whump* Bruce just has time to realise that Laberinto’s suddenly got a whole lot lighter when the Mexican slips out of his grip and lands behind him, then dropkicks him in the back of the knee! Bruce stumbles and drops to one knee (although his reaction doesn’t seem to convey as much pain as it should if his knee was dodgy - suspicious, no?), and Laberinto takes the chance to superkick him in the back of the head. *SMACK!* Bruce’s eyes cross and the big man falls forward onto his face, allowing the slightly-battered Laberinto to hop over the Ultraviolent Champion’s body and make the tag to Ced Ordonez. “LET’S GO CE-ED!” “LET’S GO CE-ED!” Bruce pushes himself up to his feet again and can’t help but grin as he looks down at his much smaller opponent while the two circle each other looking for an opening. The big man opts for a traditional collar and elbow tie up and immediately pushes Ced back into a neutral corner without any trouble at all. Ced raises his arms to get Bruce to back off, but the second he does Bruce swings his massive forearm and clobbers the Bermani Cross Wizard across the chest. *THUD* The first forearm smash is quickly followed by a second but this time Ced manages to duck under the clubbing blow so that Bruce hits nothing but turnbuckle. Ced grabs Bruce by the right hand and tries to whip him across the ring, but Bruce just plants a boot firmly on the ground and stops Ced dead in his tracks. Then he reverses the Irish whip and instead sends Ordonez across the ring straight into the turnbuckle on the opposite side. “Ced just can’t compete with Bruce’s power, I don’t understand why he’s even trying,” Pete says “I don’t understand why he didn’t just give up when the bell rang,” King snorts as they watch Bruce run across the ring straight for Ced. However, Ordonez has a cunning plan - the Bermani Cross Wizard quickly pushes himself up in the air by holding on to the top rope and avoids Bruce’s attack, then is able to land on Bruce’s back, flip over backwards and roll Bruce up with a schoolboy pin! ONE! TWO!! “That’s all he got!” King says as Bruce powers out of the pinning predicament. “He went for the surprise factor but it didn’t pay off,” Pete agrees, shaking his head. Once Bruce is back on his feet Ced attacks again, this time by throwing himself at Bruce’s knee trying to clip him. Unfortunately for Ced Bruce manages to turn just enough so that Ced doesn’t hit the back of his knee but instead rams his shoulder straight into Bruce’s heavy knee brace instead. *CRACK!* BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! “Look at Bruce!” Pete says as Bruce just can’t help smirking, “this is exactly what I was afraid would happen when they allowed him to wear a weapon to the ring!” “Weapon? It’s a medical aid Pete – you know, like the ones you needed after Aftershoxx?” King says, refusing to acknowledge any wrong-doing on Bruce’s part. Bruce quickly follows up on the hurt Ced by picking him up and flipping him over his shoulder, then driving the damaged shoulder into his knee with a running shoulder breaker. Like a bulldog Bruce keeps on attacking the weakness as he hoists Ced up once more and puts him over his shoulder as if for a running powerslam. Three quick steps towards the corner later and Bruce drops Ced shoulder-first on the top turnbuckle inflicting even more damage in the process. "That's Ced's pin-counting arm, if he's seriously hurt he can't referee!" Pete says as Bruce keeps working over the shoulder and arm with a series of forearm blows. "Oh, wouldn't that be a shame for everyone," King says with obvious sarcasm. "Yes, yes it would," Pete replies, proving that Kevin Coyote beat his ability to "get" sarcasm out of him. Bruce twists Ced's arm and stretches it out before he reaches over and tags in Amy Stephens. The Punk-Rock Princess quickly steps through the ropes and then nails Ced in the side of the head with two quick headbutts that knocks Ordonez down. Instead of leaving the ring immediately Bruce directs Brian Warner’s attention to Laberinto who has started to step through the ropes. The referee quickly hurries over to field the luchador and send him back to the apron, while Bruce looks back at Amy. Once he is convinced that Amy has her opponent under control he casually steps over the top rope and takes the tag rope. “Bruce may not be the most seasoned team wrestler in the SWF but that was the move of a seasoned pro,” Pete says surprising everyone by actually saying something complimentary about Bruce – of course that could be the head injury talking. “Most people forget that he’s a 17 year pro Dogger,” King snorts, his tone making it clear what he thinks of most people, “he may not have made it big before but it’s obvious he’s no stranger to tag-teaming”. Even though she’s not the most technical of wrestlers and she wasn’t trained by a master of the arm-BAR Amy still takes a slightly more methodical approach as she locks a straight armbar on Ced’s hurting arm and forces the former Tag Champ to his knees with it. Her flash of technical wrestling quickly passes though as she starts to pound away on Ced’s shoulder as she repeatedly drives the point of her elbow into Ced’s collar bone. *THUD!* After two or three elbows she starts to go faster and faster as she turns to using her fist and just pounds away on Ced at a manic speed. * SMACK!*SMACK!*SMACK!* The camera manages to catch a glimpse of Bruce nodding approvingly as Amy Stephens goes into a frenzy of punches and elbows all targeting Ced’s shoulder, finishing off by hauling Ced back upright and then delivering a stiff headbutt that takes Ced completely off his feet. *CRACK!* The outside of the ring is a contrast in styles; Bruce just stands there calmly and watches while Laberinto is pacing back and forth on the apron trying desperately to reach out and tag Ced but to no avail. Amy grabs her hurting opponent by the back of his trunks and then throws him forward through the top and middle turnbuckle in her “home” corner… *CRACK!* “Oh man, he hit that ringpost full on!” Pete says as he winces in sympathy pain. “Smart move on Amy’s part, she tossed him right into the corner where Bruce is,” King points out as Bruce knees Ced in the side of the head for a little ‘emphasis’. The knee from Bruce knocks Ced back off the ropes and down to the ground slumped back against the bottom turnbuckle. With Ordonez in the perfect position Amy quickly raises a hand to signal for the Bronco Buster. With a running start she leaps into the air… …AND HITS NOTHING BUT TURNBUCKLE!! “Ced moved!! Ced moved at the last moment!” Pete yells out in surprise. King just mumbles something about Ced not being into the whole “face full of stuff” scene but those comments are better left to the imagination. The Bermani Cross Wizard’s move was more out of instinct than tactics but it’s given him an opening to tag Laberinto in. The crowd comes alive as Ced begins to crawl across the ring towards his partner who’s waiting with one hand stretched as far into the ring as he possibly can and the other grasping the tag rope. “Ced really needs to tag, or it could be all over for him!” Pete exclaims breathlessly. “Ah, you know it’s nice to have you back to STATE THE OBVIOUS!” King replies. With the missed Bronco Buster happening in her “home” corner she’s able to tag Bruce in quickly – or rather Bruce reaches over and tags himself in as Amy is busy hurting in ways only a woman who’s slammed against a turnbuckle can. Bruce quickly steps over the top rope and even forgets to fake his knee injury as he rushes toward Ced. Laberinto and Ced are only inches away from tagging as Bruce grabs Ordonez by the foot and drags him back in their half of the ring “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!” “Oh come on that’s good strategy!!” King says as he disapproves of the fan response. Bruce quickly punishes Ced’s attempt to tag out with a couple of swift kicks to the shoulder that drives the point of his cowboy boot into the joint. With the arm stretched out and laid flat against the canvas Bruce knows he’s got Ced in a very vulnerable position and just casually puts his right foot on Ced’s shoulder and then steps up on him. “That’s why they boo him King, cause he’s not above taking a short cut.” “That’s not a short cut Pete, haven’t you learned anything from seeing me in the ring? Now if it was a barbwire wrapped boot then yeah, okay – but that’s legal,” King points out. The big man just can’t help smirking as he picks his helpless opponent up for an over the shoulder bear hug, locking his hands around Ced’s chest and starts to squeeze. Laberinto quickly turns to the crowd and starts to clap because he knows that only ONE thing can save his partner right now: the audience clapping in unison. *CLAP* *CLAP* *CLAP* After a couple of claps the audience gets into it and begins to clap along with Laberinto as Ced fights to stay awake in the submission hold. “Oh come on Laberinto, he doesn’t need people clapping for him; he needs you to run in there and kick Bruce in the testicles… which you won’t do, because you lack the will of warrior,” King says as he promotes his 7th rule of wrestling (which is “A shot to the nuts is better than 10 claps”) Whether the clapping played a part is hard to tell but Bruce does make a critical mistake as he gets a bit to close to a neutral corner, allowing Ced to kick back against the top turnbuckle and flip himself over the top and out of the hold much to Bruce’s surprise. When the big man bends down to grabs his opponent Ced gets a “clap induced” rush of adrenaline as he crawls through Bruce’s legs and then with a mighty leap tags in Laberinto! *smak!* “YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!” The crowd comes alive as the two men finally make contact and the cheers only get louder as Laberinto propels himself over the top rope and kicks Bruce in the chest to keep the big man back. Coming in like a Casa en Fuego Laberinto drop kicks Bruce square in the chest sending the big man into the ropes, then as Bruce rebounds Laberinto nails him for a second time with a picture perfect dropkick to Bruce’s massive chest. “That’s not going to knock him down, it’s like a gnat biting him” King says all dismissive “BUT THAT WILL!” Pete screams out as Laberinto comes off the ropes and nails Bruce on the side of the head with a picture perfect flying forearm, the likes which has not been seen since Tito Santana was given the bullfighter gimmick and started to phone it in. “LABERIN-TO!! LABERIN-TO!! LABERIN-TO!!” The Golden Luchador waits for a second as Bruce gets back to his feet, staggering and probably seeing double but not ready to go down for the count just yet. Like a bull Bruce quickly charges at his opponent because well quite frankly Bruce doesn’t play defense very well. As the big man approaches Laberinto simply leaps to the side, raising his arm like a bullfighter avoiding the snarling monster… “OLÉ!!” Bruce turns around and once again attacks Laberinto but the lightning-quick luchador once again side steps him and waves his hands like he was holding a red blanket… OLÉ!! Laberinto can’t help but smile as quite a few fans in the audience chant along with him. It’s obvious that Laberinto’s mockery is pissing Bruce off and once again he tries to attack Laberinto with a clothesline. This time the luchador doesn’t sidestep his charge; instead he ducks under the arm, hooks his own arm around Bruce’s neck to spin up on his back, then spins around Bruce’s front (much to the confusion of the big man) before continuing his rotation behind the King of Pain’s back once more as he locks his left arm around Bruce’s outstretched limb. “What the…?” is all King can say before Laberinto grabs Bruce’s other arm and wrenches it back, then puts his right leg over Bruce’s head pressing it backwards in a standing Rings of Saturn / Crippler crossface combination. “WHATTA MOVE!!” Pete says opting for the classic commentator’s fall back in case they have no clue what the move is actually called. Laberinto’s speed enabled him to lock on the unconventional submission move but unfortunately for him Bruce is much too powerful to stay in the move for too long as he flexes both of his arms forward, breaking the move and bringing Laberinto round the front. Laberinto shows that he’s not only quick footed but also quick witted as he turns his momentum into an arm drag that sends Bruce flying across the ring. “YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!” “Bruce just can’t keep up with Laberinto’s speed and agility!” Pete accurately states. The arm drag throws Bruce off his game plan but doesn’t hurt him that much, but having Laberinto leap onto his back and driving him throat first onto the second rope just as he was about to stand up takes all the wind out of Bruce’s sails! The masked luchador twirls his hand in the air once which draws another pop from the crowd. “YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!” “This is one of Laberinto’s trademarks King!” Pete says, as he knows what’s coming. “He’s gonna swim the Rio Grande!?” Laberinto bounces off the ropes on the opposite side of where Bruce is positioned to build up speed. Then he leaps through the top and bottom rope right next to where Bruce is draped over the middle rope, hooks the ropes to twist around into a kick and… *WHAM!!* …swings right into a black and pink Van from Amy Stephens as she blocks the 619 before Laberinto can connect with Bruce! “Sweet Kingmas, that’s going to leave a footprint on Laberinto’s stomach tomorrow!” King says as Laberinto crumbles to the mat as he clutches his abdomen in pain. “Brutal!” is all Pete can think off to say. Moments later he can probably thing of a few other things to say as Amy gets tagged in by a still winded Bruce Blank. The Punk-Rock Princess climbs to the top rope, balances for a second… then leaps off, aiming a diving headbutt at Laberinto as he lies wheezing on the canvas! *BANG!* “Damn Mexican!” King shouts as the wily luchador rolls to one side, his laboured breathing suddenly becoming rather easier, “stay still and get hit!” Laberinto gets back up to his feet and taps his masked head, signalling that this girl from England isn’t going to be hitting him with his own finishing move, then casts a glance over at Ced Ordonez. The wrestler-cum-referee waves weakly, implying that he’s in no condition to step back into the ring and that Laberinto should get on with things. Accordingly the man from Tacoma turns back around and waits for Amy to get back to her feet, measuring her. When she does he steps in and fires off a right hand… …but Amy blocks, then fires back… …and Laberinto ducks under it, ending up behind the slightly groggy Englishwoman. The luchador then reaches around her and grabs her, readying her for the Aterrizaje Forzado… “If he hits this, it’s over!” Pete shouts. …Laberinto whips backwards… …and Bruce Blank catches Amy before she hits the ground, saving his tag partner! Laberinto realises something is wrong and tries to get back to his feet, but in that moment Amy slips behind him and wraps her left arm around his throat, then applies a bodyscissors! “Last Orders! Last Orders for annoying luchadores!” King shouts gleefully, pulling for Bruce’s team even if he’s ambivalent to Toxxic’s sister. Laberinto struggles against the rear naked choke but Amy has it locked in, and as Ced steps through the ropes to try and rectify matters Bruce lumbers into a run, swinging his cowboy boot up to take the Bermani Cross Wizard right in the head! *WHAM!* Ordonez topples backwards out of the ring and Brian Warner drops down to check on Laberinto. The Golden Luchador’s arms are tugging at Amy’s but to no avail, and as Warner looks on Laberinto’s eyes go wider and start to roll… *Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap!* *DING-DING-DING!* “Ladies and gentlemen, here are your winners,” Funyon booms, “the team of Bruce Blank and AAAAAAMMMMYYYYYYYY… STEEEEE-PHENS!!” “They could work together after all!” King exclaims, “Starwipe this now!” STARWIPE

“Well it’s true I love the money and I love my brand new car I like drinkin’ the best of whiskey and playing in a honky tonk bar” BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! “The following contest is set for one fall with a 30 minute time limit and it is part of the SWF LETHAL LOTTERY TOURNAMENT!!” Funyon says trying to announce over the boos and jeers of the crowd. “Introducing first weighing in at 295 pounds from Mobile, Alabama – the SWF Ultraviolent Champion BRUUUUUUUCEEEE BLANK!” “But when I come off the road, well I just got to have my time cause I got to find a break in this action, else I’m gonna lose my mind” WHITEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! Bruce can’t help but smirk as he limps into the arena with a crutch under one arm to support his “injured” leg. When the crowd sees that Bruce intends to keep up the injured leg hoax they boo even louder in the hopes that somehow their negativity will make Bruce go away. “It’s so amazing to see Bruce’s determination, he’s not going to let a knee injury keep him out of this tournament” King says as he wipes an imaginary tear from his cheek. “Give me a break. This is just another one of Bruce’s ploys. It’s just a trick to get an unfair advantage in the ring” Pete says showing everyone that the beat down hasn’t taken any of his “righteous indignation” voice away. "So, don't ask me no questions And I won't tell you no lies So, don't ask me about my business And I won't tell you goodbye” The Ultraviolent champion makes damn sure to limp all the way to the ring as he winks to the camera with a smug, superior grin. He reaches ringside where he hobbles over to the steel steps and he slowly walks up them as if it’s a feat. He limps as he walks across ringside then into the ring. Suddenly “Man in the Box” explodes onto the sound system as the fans immediately come to life. I! L!! I! L!! I! L!! I! L!! I! L!! I! L!! “That’s not Bruce’s partner – in fact that’s probably the LAST person Bruce wants to see right now, he’s got a very important tournament match damn it” King says. Insane Luchador slowly exposes himself as he stands tall, glaring at Bruce in the ring, and a microphone at hand. He brings it up towards his mouth but has to pause as a smirk sweeps over his face. He walks up to the threshold of the ring aisle as he paces a few steps at the edge of the entrance ramp. He finally stops, facing the ring, and the smirk vanishes as he brings the microphone up to his lips but remains quiet. “Now what the hell is he smiling about?” King asks. “Well he finally has the chance to come face-to-face with Bruce Blank,” LDP says. “He claims he’s been itching for months to get a piece of Bruce and to reclaim his hardcore division.” “It was never ‘his’ division, he just had a good streak then died, err, vanished,” King retorts. “Well, Blank, looks like you can’t avoid me anymore, does it?” IL asks to a pop from the crowd. He pauses and gives a little laugh before saying, “You, well, you look trapped.” In the ring Bruce Blank walks over to the ring ropes facing the entrance ramp in anger and confusion. He shouts obscenities laced with insults at the Insane Luchador until he walks to center of the ring to snatch Funyon’s microphone out of his hands. “Boy. What are you talkin’ about? ‘Cause I am doing my business but I got this gnat flying around that I can’t even be bothered to swat away! No, you ain’t even a gnat. You’re just wee little Luch-e-dor who walks around acting all rough and tough but is shaped like a twig?” He laughs at the Insane Luchador to a chorus of boos from the fans. “You’re the man who’s supposedly brought the Hardcore Gamer’s division to a whole new level?” IL ignores the insults and asks. “The Ultraviolent Division! My division!” Bruce says angrily. “A division devoid of true greats Bruce! A division that hasn’t seen the greatness of a Damnation on a Box or…” IL begins but gets cut off. “That was one match that you weren’t even in!” Blank replies angrily. DACE! DACE! DACE! “You are damn right!” IL says to the crowd and lets the chant echo in the arena before he continues his tirade. “Bruce, you say you’re just doing your business? You are supposed to be a hardcore legend and you’re faking a god damn limp?” “Faking? How dare he accuse Bruce of faking a limp,” King says. ”Now hold on, hold on there Scooter! You go around and shoot off your mouth about this and that and how you long for the days of old in the Hardcore division. The only reason you long for the days of old is because I wasn’t there! Only reason you were a champion is because I wasn’t there!” Insane Luchador fumes at Blank’s remarks as he begins to walk down the aisle. Blank shakes his head in disgust at the Luchador. “But I am here and I have upped the ante now. Boy, I just don’t think you’ve got the nerve to play the game at MY LEVEL! You want me gone because you know deep down in your heart that it’s the only way you’d ever get this belt again” Bruce says as he taps the Ultraviolent title around his waist. “Blank, I don’t want you to be put away… I want to put you away!” IL exclaims to delight of the fans as he continues his walk down to the ring. “Things could be getting ugly here,” LDP says. “How? How can you even reach me, boy? You’re just some punk kid who thinks a bit of purdy flippity-floppity moves makes you a man. You’re a kid trying to play in a grown up field- but just can’t measure up!” Bruce Blank shouts at the Luchador. WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH! “You’re just some punk kid who thinks that leaping off tall objects makes you Ultraviolent,” Bruce says as he shakes his head “In MY Ultraviolent division it’s not about how much punishment you can take – but how much you can dish out!” “Want me to show you how I can dish it out… you want to see the damage I can inflict? Then stop running Blank!” IL says as his signature psycho face creeps onto his face. YYYEEEAAAHH! “Running? Oh please – I didn’t run away from Janus, I’m not going to run away from a guy a third his size,” Bruce says with a dismissive wave of the hand as he leans against the ropes. “Janus? Well, how did that go Bruce? How did you fare against someone truly Ultraviolent?” Insane Luchador asks as he sadistically laughs. Bruce doesn’t look too happy about being reminded of his “Ashes 2 Ashes” loss but after a moment or two composes himself and turns back to IL now slowly approaching ringside. “He may have won the match, I’ll give you that. But I’m the one that’s still standing in the ring! I’m the one that has defended the Ultraviolent title time and time again since that match. Where is he? He’s yet to recover from punishment I gave him! That boy is probably holed up somewhere trying to keep his broken body together with staples and duct tape!” Bruce says as he tries to sound convincing but his voice waivers. “No, you lost the match! That should of shattered your egos but no, not the great Bruce Blank?” He says as he hits ringside. “So because you couldn’t have learned your lesson last time, how about I teach you a lesson? How about it, Blank, are you willing to stop avoiding me?” IL says. “Why should I put the belt up against you Scooter? Why should you just walk in here and DEMAND a title shot. You don’t make demands to the champion,” Bruce says as his temper flares. “You should just get the hell out of here before my partner decides to kick your ass… again!” “Hey I lost” IL says with no qualms “I don’t make excuses, it wasn’t my ‘home turf.’ I won’t claim about injuries inflicted on Amy. But we all see right through your little act, you’re trying to avoid me again.” He is only a few feet away from the ring as Bruce Blank gets onto the ring apron. “You have no home turf little man, not any more. The Hardcore Gamer’s division is dead and buried and I should know cause I BURIED IT!!” Bruce says and chuckles, then he stops as if a new thought crossed his mind “Now if I thought you would be capable of keeping up with me in a regular match… or, maybe, a little scuffle?” Blank says with a smile. He steps down to the outside from the ring apron but keeps his distance from Luchador. "I’m not like you Bruce, I won’t find excuses and I won’t step down!” He replies. “So get down here…” IL barks but is cut off. The SWF’s rock anthem hits and Joseph Peters comes rushing out with a microphone in hand. “Stop it, stop it gentlemen!” “Gentlemen?” King snorts. He stops and shakes his head. “Save it! If either of you touches the other then you are fired! Now I will not have my tournament disrupted because of your issues with each other. Blank, get back in the ring for your match and IL you need to leave ringside. Now if you two peacefully do what I just said then we can figure out a solution to these issues,” Peters says to defuse the situation and he turns around to retreat backstage. IL doesn’t break eye contact with Blank as he slowly nods. “This time was luck Blank, I’ll be seeing you very, very soon,” he says with a mysterious and rather disconcerting smirk before he drops the microphone. He then turns around and walks up the aisle as Blank rolls into the ring. “Well, things have certainly heated up but don’t go away!” LDP says. -Starwipe-

The SWF cameras return to ringside from break to the usual back and forth banter of the Suicide King and Pete Longdogger. “We’re all set to continue pool competition here tonight,” exclaims Pete, somewhat excited by the prospect of the upcoming match, “The Asia Underground making their official debut here tonight, something that should undoubtedly play a big role in tonight’s match up that pits the duo of Jason Von Dierch and The Crimson Skull against the aforementioned team led by Mr. Kobe, who should also play a crucial role in tonight’s match, his mentoring skills well noted and featured. You’ve got to believe that these two youngsters out of Japan have formed some sort of plan, and with Kobe by their side, I don’t expect anything less than greatness.” “PLEASE,” blurts out King, “Expecting anything more than a flop is where I stand – Cross might be on a winning streak, Kobe might be a ‘great wrestling mind’, and Akira might have already proven his worth, but they’ve taken the stupid path!” “How’d you come about that one,” questions Pete almost sarcastically. “C’mon! These guys aren’t going to do what it takes to get the job done,” exclaims King typically, “They’re weak and they aren’t willing to take it as far as it needs to go to finish the job! Just look at Akira, he didn’t have the balls to shield himself in the Japanese Deathmatch at Clusterfuck and he missed his chance to win the Ultra Violent title!” “Say what you will, but he had the will of a warrior in there, he took it like a man-,” and just like that, almost in response, the lights cut off the words of Pete Longdogger. The lights flicker a dark blue and dark red mix, overtaking the arena completely as “Voodoo People (pendulum remix)” by Prodigy hits the PA sending shockwaves through the arena. The fans stand and cheer as Mr. Kobe steps out onto the ramp standing as tall as he can and triumphant, arms folded sternly across his chest. The arena turns to pure black, the lighting effects still going rapid fire as Michael Cross and Akira Kaibatsu grimly step forward on either side of Kobe who refuses to flinch. “That’s them,” shouts Pete over the music, “That’s the Asia Underground we’ve been hearing about, and they looks absolutely daunting in their armless black hoodies; Akira wearing dark blue dragon horn-like armbands that run up the outside of his arms with white stripes, Cross wearing his with the signature dark red and black colors.” Both Cross and Kaibatsu are wearing different attires than their normal, Akira wearing shiny dark blue pants with the white writing that reads “Fearless” in Kanji down the left side of his pants with a white thorn-like arrow spiraling down the right leg. Cross wears the same pants with his toned in his colors – dark red and black. His left leg reads “Twenty Eight” in black text with white outlining and the same thorn-like arrow pattern in block with the slim white lining. Cross steps forward, his hoodie unzipped as he tears it away revealing black paint down his tight muscles that reads “Underground”. Cross drops down to his knees and raises his arms to the sky screaming as his body clinches. Akira stalks behind him and stares down the ramp at the camera aimed on him, the hood covering his mask making him eerily darker than ever before. Kobe smirks as Cross slides off his knees quickly to his BUTT and then around again sweeping back to his feet as he and Akira precede forward, the ring in their site as Kobe walks slowly behind them confidently. “These guys need to get out of the way,” shouts King, “They’re not worth this much time for an entrance!” Longdogger ignores the comment as he watches on enthralled by the mystic but dark entrance. Akira slides in the ring as Cross stomps quickly up the steps to the apron. Akira pauses sprawled out looking over to the crowd as Cross wipes his feet and slices just under the third rope turning into the ring. Akira slides to his feet as he and Cross perch up on opposite corners of the ring, cameras going off as Kobe watches intently at the two who stand on the second turnbuckle with their arms folded across their chests, looking both confident and prepared. “There’s a very evident breath of confidence being passed through these two men,” comments Pete, clearly describing how fluid and connected both Akira and Cross seem to be, “I think Skull and Von Dierch are in for one hell of a fight tonight if the tells of the Asia Underground are what they seem!” Akira and Mike hop down and consult each other, removing their fang-like armbands in the center of the ring and dumping them out to the floor, going back over the game plan. The lights return to normal for just a moment before C & C Music Factory’s “Gonna Make You Sweat” intervenes, igniting the stage into an inferno of sparks that spray over the stage. The crowd waits a moment before the giant comic-like villain that is The Crimson Skull emerges flanked closely by his assistant, Heff. Heff points to an area that’s overwhelmed with sparks and signals for someone else to come forward. Jason Von Dierch emerges out and stands between Heff and Skull, looking uneasy. The smaller Von Dierch hails below the stature of Skull who stands a solid 8 inches above The Rage, who looks up almost intimidated but with a solid clenched jaw as if to say, “You might be bigger, but I’m tougher”. Skull stalks over Von Dierch for an awkward moment, and then Heff leads the way forward, followed by Von Dierch who is then followed closely by Skull, watching his partners every move. “Cross and Kaibatsu certainly received the better end of the Lethal Lottery, King,” exclaims Pete, “They got paired having already been awaiting their shot to tag together, having been able to train together, and create a plan which they had already looked to use under the tutelage of Mr. Kobe – these guys are stuck with Heff, and Skull and Von Dierch aren’t exactly each other’s ideal partners, they don’t seem to look trusting of each other!” Von Dierch, Heff, and Skull all stop just outside the ring, looking up at their opponents who stand over them looking down at them intently, marveling at the opportunity of winning their first official SWF match as a tag team. Kobe stands aside as Heff shoots him an evil grimace. Von Dierch wastes no time and slides into the ring just in front of Asia’s finest, standing now face to face with them as Skull uses the ropes to drag himself to the apron, towering now over the ropes and joining his partner in a stare down. “Ced Ordonez is approaching the ring, cautiously avoiding Michael Cross who delivered a crushing win over Ordonez no more than two weeks ago,” exclaims Pete, “Ordonez is telling the two teams to go to their corners; this match is about to get underway!” In the ring, Cross and Kaibatsu talk it over, and Akira steps on to the apron, letting his partner enter the match first. Skull looks down at Von Dierch and pushes him back, signaling that he wants the first shot at Cross. Von Dierch steps forward, but Skull holds him back and looks down at the smaller Von Dierch, who looks up uncooperatively with an almost rage-like look before he steps out of the ring. Ordonez sounds for the bell and the match is officially underway. “Skull put that punk in his place,” exclaims King immediately, “He’s already lost once to Cross! Why give him another shot to blow it!” “King, that might be the most sense you’ve ever made,” says Pete in an informative tone, “It’s true that Von Dierch has already taken a loss to Michael Cross; but as they say, dust yourself off and get back on the horse. Hopefully Von Dierch plays a bigger role in this match than he is now.” Ordonez moves out of the way as Skull’s monster-like body steps forward at Cross who ducks under a clutch attempt and delivers a kick to the back of the leg of Skull who shakes it off and turns his bulky body around in time for Cross to evade any kind of strike Skull could possibly have attempted. Cross dances around Skull quickly, attempting to veer him off guard, using his smaller and quicker body to maneuver around the much bigger and bulkier Crimson Skull who stands patiently, waiting for his opportunity. Skull wastes no time pushing Cross off balance and back against the ropes having waited patiently to knock Cross off his game plan. Cross leans back and then springs under a quick clothesline attempt by Skull who turns to be stricken with a right kick to the outside of his thigh from Cross, who immediately backs away and continues to draw Skull into a cat & mouse game. “Skull can’t seem to catch the much quicker Mike Cross,” describes Pete almost humorously, “He’s swatted at him and missed twice, maybe he should’ve let Von Dierch slow him down before he took his turn!” “Please! Cross is just running away from Skull, he’s too afraid,” proclaims King overbearingly. Cross dances around Skull who swats at Cross now losing his patience, allowing Cross to make another quick move, ducking under the club-like blow attempted by Skull. Skull’s miss sends him stumbling forward a step, as Cross lines up behind him. Cross springs forward quickly and delivers a straight dropkick to the BUTT of Skull whose momentum drives him forward and towards Akira who sticks his foot up on the rope catching Skull slightly sending him backward as Cross regains footing behind Skull. Cross drops down to his hands and knees almost startled by the big man stumbling around and nearly toppling onto him, tripping up Skull who falls to his back to a pop from the crowd as Heff stomps around ringside angrily. “Ha, what a clever and quick-thinking move by Cross,” blurts out Pete happily, “These two guys are working together already!” “Ordonez! Disqualify those two,” demands King, “What a cheap shot!” “They did what it took to get the job done, King,” proclaims Pete, replaying King’s earlier words in his face. In the ring, Cross stomps at the downed Crimson Skull who fights away the snapping and quick boots put on him by the pest-like Michael Cross. Skull gets some breathing room blocking and swatting away the quick blows as he gains some ground and begins to awkwardly climb back to his feet. Cross makes the mistake continuing his barrage of strikes, allowing Skull to grab a hold onto one of his loose limbs. Skull pushes Cross backward away from Akira towards his corner, making him hop to remain on his feet. Skull tags out to Von Dierch and then drags Cross back to the center of the ring by his leg as Von Dierch steps in and follows. Cross looks to Akira, who Ced promptly warns, as Von Dierch circles in on the open and defenseless Cross. “Cross is in a predicament,” sympathizes Pete, “Von Dierch and Skull have got Cross right where they want him!” “YES, KILL THAT FLY,” shrieks King, “FLATTEN HIM!” Cross hops around, and then at the last second Cross jumps and delivers an enziguri to Von Dierch using Skull’s hold to stiffly slap at Jason’s neck with a destructive kick that sends him to his knees. Cross follows through and lands on the kneeling Von Dierch, who he uses to prop back to his feet. Skull looks amused and attempts to sweep out the standing ankle of Cross as Von Dierch sticks out his leg. Cross hops over it, but catches the leg of Jason on the landing and is thrown to his back after nearly escaping the situation. Skull kicks the back part of Cross’ leg which he’s still holding as Ced orders him out the ring, Skull acting like he did nothing wrong. “Cross tried, but now he’s got Von Dierch to deal with,” exclaims Pete watching the action intently, “Cross already has a win notched over Von Dierch, and you can bet the farm that the Rage wants some payback!” Von Dierch wastes no time working on Cross’ head with several malicious stomps that keep Cross down. The Rage grabs a hold of one of Mike’s arms and pulls him into a sitting position, setting his foot down over his shoulder between his legs. Von Dierch wrenches at the arm which torques Cross’ neck awkwardly sending shrills of sharp pains down his neck, through his spine, and sending waves of cold electric pain throughout Cross’ body. Von Dierch continues to torque harder and harder as Cross refuses the pain stubbornly, looking around for a way out that seemingly does not exist. Von Dierch steps his foot out and turns his body, contorting the arm awkwardly in a way that Cross can no longer ignore the imminent pain as he shrieks cries, cuing to Ordonez who immediately asks if he wants to quit. Cross shakes it off as his eyes start to role back, his neck twisting and his shoulder bulging as if it wants to pop from the skin. “That’s just disgusting,” cries Pete who turns away with a grimace, “This thing won’t last much longer if Cross can’t escape this!” “YES, YES,” cries out King excitedly. Outside the ring, Kobe’s face remains normal and nods to Akira who almost instantly leaps to the third rope and flies across the ring striking the back of the head of Von Dierch who is sent forward, relinquishing the arm of Cross, which suffered only a moments concern from the destructive hold pitting Von Dierch and Cross back to back. The crowd pops for Akira who immediately ignores Ordonez’s shouts for him to leave the ring, which prompts the Crimson Skull to enter ensuing 4 man mayhem. “This match has just broken down,” shouts Pete at the ongoing 4 man action in the ring, “With one move, Akira has drawn all four men into the ring!” “Did you see that,” shouts King demanding some sort of retribution, “Akira just cheated, if it weren’t for him this match would be done!” “I believe we call that team work,” exclaims Pete normally, as if he half-expected the biased comment. Akira steps back while Cross regains his footing, rubbing his shoulder and shaking off the pain. Von Dierch clutches the back of his head as Heff slaps the mat in front of him, trying to pull him out of his brief slumber. Skull doesn’t wait and steps at the two smaller men, both of who step at him and grapple a hold of one of the behemoth’s arms. Skull shakes his left arm free of Mike who is pushed away. Skull uses his now free arm to club at Akira who is swatted away from Skull who turns and delivers a thunderous overhead punch to Akira who flops to his back. Skull turns again, this time to Cross, and delivers a clubbing blow, which causes Akira to stumble back and into the ropes. Skull rears forward pressing Akira further back and then slings the Suicide Machine across the ring who is met by a crushing kick by a now standing Von Dierch who lets out a loud growl, content with his use of the Crumbling Wall, his finisher. The crowd sighs, as if it were punched in the stomach. “OH, THE CRUMBLING WALL,” shouts Pete looking on with concern. “That’s it!” shouts King, “Make the cover, QUICK!” Skull attempts to cover the downed Cross, but is ushered out of the way by Von Dierch who shoves Skull aside making the pin attempt on his own. Ordonez slides to the mat to make the cover, as Skull stands confused over the scene, Akira just beginning to roll over and crawl back to his feet. “There’s enough time for the 3 count,” shouts Pete in response to the action, “Skull wasn’t the legal man, and Von Dierch wasted no time debating, pushing him away to get the cover as quick as possible on Cross!” ONE…! “Von Dierch isn’t a team player,” shrieks King, “The Crimson Skull should be making that cover!” TWO…! THR-NO! The camera turns from Ordonez over to Von Dierch who has been pushed off of Cross by his partner just before the three count. “This match was over,” exclaims Pete annoyed, “What is the Crimson Skull thinking?” “He’s thinking with his head, Pete,” proclaims King confidently, “But I don’t expect you to understand.” In the ring, Ordonez looks down confused and then takes a kneeling position on one knee. Skull looks up as Heff demands a count, however, Ordonez waves it off to the crowd’s delight, Skull looking furious as Von Dierch looks up appalled at his partner’s unwise decision. Ordonez explains to Skull that he’s not the legal man, and points to Von Dierch, who stands and confronts Skull as both Akira and Cross are coming back to their senses. Skull turns to Von Dierch as they argue, Von Dierch appearing to have big-little-man’s complex, standing confidently to the monster that stands before him. “What are they thinking,” questions Pete, “This whole match has just swung in favor of Asia Underground, and all because of a stupid, stupid error by Skull who thought he should’ve made the cover!” “LOOK OUT,” shrieks King almost standing. In the ring, Akira and Cross have gotten to their feet as Ordonez maneuvers out of their way. Cross sprints towards Skull whom has his leg chop blocked viciously before he ever saw it coming. Von Dierch turns now just in time to be caught off guard by Akira who uses his speed to deliver a swift and efficient flying forearm that pushes him back and stumbling over the ropes and out of the ring. “NO,” shouts King, “Ordonez should’ve made that count!” “Skull wasn’t the legal man,” explains Pete coldly and crisply, “Shouldn’t the fact that he was never tagged in be evident to you, King?” King looks on sternly, clearly agitated by the swing that just took place. Cross and Akira now stand triumphant as Ordonez attempts to restore order to the whole match, Akira stepping out of the ring and back to his corner as Skull rolls under the rope near his corner. Cross takes a breather, the Crumbling Wall having clearly taken a lot out of his pace. Outside the ring, Heff looks down at a fallen Von Dierch and offers a helping hand, but is pushed off and screamed at by Von Dierch who chases him off, paying little to no attention Cross who looks on intently from the bird’s eye view in the ring. “Von Dierch has GOT to get his head back in the match,” lectures Pete, “He needs to put the blunder behind him and get the job done! He’s not even paying attention to Cross…OH!” Cross springs to the third rope, turns 180 degrees, and performs a HUGE moonsault off the ropes and onto both Heff and Von Dierch who turn just in time to see Cross on a collision course with them. They put their hands up to block, but to no avail. Cross collides legs first onto Heff and Von Dierch who fall back, sending Cross face first to the mat as all three lay sprawled out. “What an amazing high risk maneuver!” exclaims Pete with GUSTO. Skull pulls himself to his feet, his leg seemingly faulty. He looks over to Heff and then lugs his body over to the scene. Akira runs the apron adjacent to his corner as Skull walks by. Running, he leaps off the apron attempting to catch Skull who is fully aware of the situation. Crimson Skull snags hold of Kaibatsu in mid-flight, holding him over his shoulder as he flails. Near, all three men are moving back to their feet as Akira is lifted up and into a powerbomb position by the 6’4’’ powerhouse who ignores Akira’s struggles to get free. His leg shakes and he quivers for a moment, but maintains hold, turns, and drops Akira down smashing his head in a whiplash-like drop straight down onto the apron, still holding him. Akira’s struggle goes away as Skull lifts him high and folds his body through the ropes awkwardly as it folds and drops down to the mat, Akira now holding his head in pain. “That was GRUESOME,” describes Pete, “Absolutely phenomenal counter by The Crimson Skull, whether you love ‘im or hate ‘im!” Outside, Cross approaches Skull, but evades a blow and decides against it, rolling into the ring as Heff and Von Dierch maintain position back on their feet. Skull attempts to climb up to apron, however, his leg gives a little, and is forced to use the steps. Von Dierch, being the legal man, rolls back into the ring and is immediately met by a barrage of thunderous stomps by a refueled Michael Cross as Akira, his partner, rolls under the ropes and drags himself back to the corner. Cross whips Von Dierch into their corner, and snaps a tag to Akira, who enters the match officially for the first time tonight. “Akira has now been officially in the match,” exclaims Pete, “He hasn’t been legal yet!” Akira grabs a hold of Von Dierch’s arm and whips him outward in the direction of his corner, but holds on. Dragging him back, Akira sticks out his knee and delivers a thudding kitchen sink that sends Jason to his back, Akira still gripping onto his arm. The Divine Wind sits and leans back, his legs wrapped over the arm of Von Dierch who has been caught in an arm bar. Von Dierch squirms in pain and wiggles around to his belly, taking Akira over with him. He manages again to roll, this time to his BUTT. He frees up a leg and kicks Akira right between the eye holes of his mask, knocking him off, but still not able to keep him off him. Akira is right back at it, this time he has a leg, he rolls Von Dierch to the center of the ring and then turns his hip, trapping Jason’s ankle between his legs and crushing it almost instantly. Von Dierch arches his back in pain, as Akira again twists his hip wrenching at the ankle. Skull attempts to break the hold, but it met with a thunderous drop kick from Cross who comes barreling across the ring out of nowhere to the crowds shock. Skull’s momentum take him back through the ropes having not made it all the way through to begin with and down to the floor as Akira continues tearing at the ankle. “Von Dierch in a very unforgiving situation,” exclaims King, “His partner’s knee is in bad shape, and he’s back to the floor, already having trouble walking and climbing back to the apron – this thing could be over at any moment folks!” In the ring, Ordonez asks Von Dierch if he wants to give up, but is swatted away by an irritated Rage who quickly makes a move that rolls Akira off of him. No luck, Akira manages catch an arm on the way through the roll, which pits Akira in a standing position with Von Dierch on all fours, Akira standing with a hold on Jason’s arm. Cross guards the ring from Skull, continually denied any attempt to save his partner by Cross who uses his speed and striking ability to stop the big man from tanking his away into the ring. Akira pulls a mahistrol cradle-like move, but ends up with Von Dierch in an arm bar with the crowd shocked at the result. “Akira is relentless,” exclaims Pete loudly, “His mat speed have Von Dierch’s submission and mat ability outmatched at every turn!” Von Dierch struggles, but powers his way free from the move as Akira is forced back to his feet. Von Dierch shrugs off the pain, his arm and ankle clearly still being affected. Akira shoots at Von Dierch who sprawls and jams Akira up, turning around and pushing him outward and away. “Von Dierch is trying to keep off the mat with the speedy Akira,” explains Pete logically. Outside the ring, Cross and Skull slug it out, Cross using the advantage on Skull’s knee to keep him down, the bulk now dragging him down and making it harder to move. As Ordonez is preoccupied in the ring, Heff begins to stalk near Cross. Mike turns and is met with a blast of white powder, from the EVIL assistant Heff. He ducks, however, and a miss coming nowhere even close to Cross. Using Cross and Ordonez’s preoccupation, Skull digs under the ring and pulls out a chair, the ref note noticing the debauchery taking place. Cross walks after Heff as Kobe yells something in Japanese. Cross continues, but stops suddenly and drives and thunderous kick up and into a chair that slaps back into the face of Skull who falls back onto his BUTT astonished. Heff runs over to check on Skull as Kobe relays another set of Japanese instruction, Cross now entering the ring. “CHEATER,” shouts King, “I’ll have his release by the end of the week, and you just wait!” “If you ask me, King, the Crimson Skull and Heff got caught with their pants down,” exclaims Pete happily, “Their poorly planned and typical trap set themselves up for failure!” Cross and Akira now have full control, overpowering a fighting Von Dierch. Together, Asia Underground whips Von Dierch across the ring. On rebound, Cross and Akira step forward and lift up Jason and topple him over their head. Von Dierch, however, manages to speedily roll around, landing on his feet upright. Cross turns and is crushed with yet ANOTHER Crumbling Wall that sends him self destructing to the mat in a heap of weakness. Akira turns and is met with a second attempt at the same move, but manages to side step it, ducking under the kick attempt. Von Dierch turns suddenly and is met with a kick. Akira locks in what looks like a set up for his finisher, the Divine Wind. He runs near the corner and steps up the turnbuckle, looking to turn and flip over Von Dierch. He gets a bit too much air and Von Dierch struggles to lift, his arm weak. He holds him for a moment, and then sloppily drops Akira down crotch first on to the turnbuckle which gets an “OOOOOH,” from just about everyone in the arena. Von Dierch shakes off his arm and takes a breath. “Von Dierch needs to get to work,” exclaims Pete lecturing again, “He’s got two men to deal with and his partner as out on the outside of the ring, he needs to finish this!” Von Dierch regains his confidence and stalks over to Akira. He steps up to the second rope and signals for the end, apparently looking to hit some kind of huge move off the top rope. Cross, however, is up and delivers a thunderous clubbing forearm to the back of Von Dierch who arches in unexpected pain. Cross turns and puts Von Dierch onto his shoulders. He stumbles forward, looking to hit a powerbomb, however, Von Dierch fights him off delivering several blows that send Cross stumbling back to Akira. Without second guessing, Akira hooks his arm over the neck of Von Dierch and lifts himself over. The extra weight brings Cross falling to his knees dropping Von Dierch down who at the same time is hit with the Diving Wind! The crowd goes nuts as Von Dierch sloppily falls onto his neck and folds back over to his stomach, decimated. “THAT’S IT, MY GOD!” shouts Pete, “Did you see that!” “NO!” shouts King, “NO!” Von Dierch lies out, Cross kneels exhausted, and Akira rolls the limp corpse of the Rage to his back and away from the ropes. The crowd stands and cheers as Ordonez slides to his knees to make the count. “ONE……!” “TWO…..!” “THREEEEEEEEEEEE!” “They did, The Asia Underground have won their first match,” exclaims Pete overzealous, “What team work, they never doubted one another, and with the right guidance and just enough effort, they put away what looked like a very solid team!” “They should be fired for what they did to the Crimson Skull,” demands King, “Just look at him!” On the outside of the ring, The Crimson Skull has come to his senses, furious. “This isn’t fair!” Cross and Akira shakes hands as Kobe joins them in the ring. Ordonez lifts their hands and Cross embraces Kobe like a child would his father. “HERE ARE YOUR WINNERS, THE ASI-UUUUUH UNDER-GRROUND!” “A truly great sight,” says Pete happy for Cross, “All his life he was betrayed, and now he’s found greatness and just what he’s been searching for his whole life!” Cross, Kobe, and Akira leave the ring as “Voodoo People (pendulum remix)” by Prodigy plays loudly to toast their triumphant first victory.