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SWF Smarkdown returns from a commercial for Danny Williams' Strong Style Ribs new Buffalo Sleeper Wings! Spicy and loaded with tryptophan to put you under. Danny Williams' Strong Style Ribs' Buffalo Sleeper Wings: One bite, and you'll be tapping out to flavor and drowsiness! "Welcome back to Smarkdown, coming live, from the Cow Palace in San Francisco, California!" Pete exclaims. "And we'd better hurry up before the Governator decides to ban violent wrestling exhibitions," King mutters. "Well, with scathing political commentaries aside, it's time for the first match in the Lethal Lottery tag team tournament, only not, as this is a cross-pool match. Since the whole thing doesn't make any sense at all, let's send it to Funyon for the introductions," Pete says. However, before Funyon can begin to do his job, the lights go out, and heavy footsteps reverberate through the quieting arena. Several druids appear at the top of the entrance ramp, marching and chanting in unision. DOOM DOOM DOOM DOOM The dozen druids reach the ring and surround it as the lights come back on. Suddenly, the blaring sounds of Mastodon's "Crusher Destroyer" rips over the speakers, and Manson stomps out, Jimmy the Doom and Lois the Unethical following in his wake. "Ladies and gentlemen! The following is a tag tizzle matchizzle," Funyon begins, apparently channeling Jazze Pha's spirit. "Introducing first, at a combined weightizzle of four hundred, eight-fizzle pounds, being accompizzled by Lois the Unethical, JIIIIMMEE THE DOOOOM AND MAAAANSON!" Jimmy slides in the ring, while Manson punches a druid out before entering. "Crusher Destroyer" ends, and is soon replaced by Rage Against the Machine's "Wake Up". "And their opponizzles, weighint a combined four hundred, fifty-twizzle pounds, GHOST MAAACHIZZLE TWO-POINT-IZZLE AND MAAATT 'NEOOOO' MYERS!" Funyon booms. Myers, clad in a floor-length black leather trench coat and wrap-around sunglasses walks out, glaring spitefully at Ghost Machine 2.0. "Well, this should be interesting. Myers is dressed as Neo from The Matrix series, and as we all know, Neo fought against the machines, and now, Matt Myers is teamed with Ghost Machine 2.0. I wonder if he'll go after his opponents or his partner," Pete wonders. "Hopefully he gets knocked on his ass, and we won't have to worry about that," King states. Chris Belcourt pushes Ghost Machine down the ramp, staying behind Myers the entire time so he can laugh at 'Neo'. Belcourt unstraps Machine from the hand truck and walks back up the ramp, ready to get as drunk as possible during the match. Ghost convulses for a moment, then climbs up the steps and enters the ring, while Matt opts for the flashier method of vaulting over the top rope. "I wonder how these two teams will get along. As we said earlier, Myers probably doesn't like Ghost Machine 2.0 very much, and I'm not sure if Ghost Machine 2.0 received any tag team programming. Does he even know about the hot tag?" Pete wonders. "I don't know if it will matter, Pete. Myers might not even get in the ring. I know I wouldn't tag that dolt in, that's just asking to lose the match," King replies. Manson doesn't bother consulting with Jimmy the Doom and heads to the middle of the ring, ready to start the match. Matt 'Neo' Myers seems to be the choice for his squad, as Ghost Machine exits the ring and clutches the tag rope. Referee Herve Villechaize checks both men for hidden objects (A difficult task as Myers is intent on wrestling in his giant coat), finds nothing, and calls for the bell. DING! DING! DING! Myers, hands behind his back, walks confidently towards Manson, who throws a looping right hand that Matt easily avoids. The Stampede fires off another punch, but 'Neo' dodges again. Frustrated, Manson snaps off a wild punch that manages to connect with Myers square on the nose. IMPERCEPTIBLE! Matt drops to one knee, hand clutching his nose. "Jesus Christ, my fucking nose!" "JESUS CHRIST MY FUCKING NOSE!" Ghost Machine 2.0 adds helpfully. Myers scrambles backwards, and before Manson can press the attack, tags in Machine. Ghost twitches for a seond, then bitchslaps the taste out of Matt's mouth. GOITER! "What the hell?" Pete wonders. "I think that Ghost Machine 2.0 is still feeling the effects of that cattle prod. Maybe the tag team download didn't finish, or was corrupted, so Ghost Machine 2.0 thinks that Matt 'Neo' Myers is another opponent. Or, he just did what everyone here wishes they could do," King says. Machine stares at Manson, either trying to process as much information about The Raging Bull, or just looking for an opening. Either way, the end result is a stiff palm thrust to the chest. Manson, wary of another infinite loop of palm strikes, boots the 21st century tin man (Or perhaps not) in the ribs, then smashes his knee into Ghost Machine's face. PLACENTA! "JESUS CHRIST MY FUCKING NOSE!" "He really does imitate everything around him," Pete marvels. "Yeah, but hopefully, he doesn't imitate Myers' tremendous ability to suck," King replies. Manson wraps Ghost Machine up and shunts him into the ropes. The man or man-bot hurtles back towards The Raging Bull and gets flipped upside down with an overhead belly-to-belly suplex. Ghost isn't allowed a second to recover as Manson begins stomping away at Machine's torso or chassis, you make the call. Manson hauls Ghost back up and whips the potential ASIMO usurper into Manson's own corner. The Stampede rushes in and drives an elbow into Machine's chest before tagging in Jimmy the Doom. Manson lands an exiting chop to Machine's thick neck, and Jimmy the Doom follows it up with an overhand right. "Nice Jendrassik punch from Jimmy the Doom," Pete states. "A what?" "Jendrassik punch, King. It was pretty obvious," Longdogger replies. "I'm pretty sure you're bullshitting me right now, but explain this 'Jendrassik' punch," King says. "Well, it's a punch that was popularized by Sven Jendrassik back in the 1830s. He was a tall man, about six-eight, and due to a past injury, his wrist was completely fused, so he had no rotation. Anyway, he'd just drop a fist straight down, causing the knuckles to strike the bridge of the nose. Of course, Ghost Machine 2.0 probably doesn't have a nose," Pete concedes. "Jesus, how do you know that, and why?" King wonders. "You saw my matches, King. I don't know much about fancy mat work and whatnot, but I know a good thirty different punch variants." Back to the match at hand, Jimmy the Doom pulls Ghost Machine out of the corner, but finds a knee or robotic equivalent of a knee buried in his stomach. Machine lands another knee to Doom's gut, then smashes a knee into Jimmy's face. "JESUS CHRIST MY FUCKING NOSE!" The mechano-man offers. Ghost slips behind the Doomtopian, wraps up the gangly grappler, and engages his hyrdraulics, sending Jimmy tumbling backwards. "Some kind of slam there from Ghost Machine 2.0," Pete mumbles. "You really were serious. It was a German suplex!" King exclaims. "Aw, hell, King! Why do I have to know about some damn Kraut move? Didn't we kick their asses, twice I might add, so we wouldn't have to bother with those sausage-eating bastards?" Doom lands on his shoulders, but rolls through the move and springs to his feet. Machine turns around, ready to continue his Crush, Kill, Destroy programming, but his artificial intelligence isn't prepared for Jimmy the Doom to be on his feet, much less flying through the air. IDIOPATHIC! "What a front kick from Jimmy the Doom!" Pete exclaims. "A least you got that right," the Suicide King says venemously. Jimmy the Doom doubles back and makes a lateral press. ONE! T-No! "Machine gets a shoulder up! These two wrestlers, Ghost Machine 2.0 and Jimmy the Doom, are very tough. I have a feeling it'll be down to their respective partners to determine which team ends up victorious," Longdogger says. "If that's the case, then go ahead and chalk one up for Doom and Manson. Matt Myers is more worthless than, well, you," King shoots back. Doom picks Ghost off the mat, and gets blasted by a barrage of palm strikes. Machine whips Jimmy to the ropes, wraps him up off the rebound, and launches the Doomtopian over his head. "Railgun suplex from Ghost Machine 2.0!" King shouts. "Exactly! Perfect nailgun suplex," Pete adds. Machine turns around just as Jimmy is getting to his knees, and the robot or not charges Doom, bashing him in the face with a big boot. FLIBBERTIGIBBET! "Shining Black from Ghost Machine 2.0! That's sure to take a lot out of Jimmy the Doom," Pete notes. "True, but Manson is close enough to break up any pin attempt," King points out. The man or man-bot seems to realize this, and drags Jimmy to the center of the ring by his boots. Ghost Machine holds Doom's left leg up high and drives his elbow into the crook of Jimmy's knee. Machine clambers back to his feet and places a boot across Jimmy's throat. Villechaize rushes over and begins his five count One! Two! "DOES NOT COMPUTE!" Three! "DOES NOT COMPUTE!" Four! "DOES NOT COMPUTE!" Completely flabbergasted, Ghost Machine removes his foot, stopping the count. "What the hell was that about? Ghost Machine 2.0 should know about the disqualifying five count," Pete says. "I think it's because he's used to binary, and these extra digits were strange to him," King explains. "But he knows the he wins after a three count," Pete replies. "No, I think it's when Ghost Machine 2.0 processes either the bell ringing or his name being called that he realizes he's won," King offers. Machine heads for the ropes, bounces off, and drops a knee just as Jimmy begins sitting up, resulting in Doom's face meeting Ghost's knee. The mechano-man stays down and makes a lateral press. ONE! T-No! "Kick out by Jimmy the Doom! Ghost Machine 2.0 didn't even get a two count after that. I know Jimmy is tough, but that's surprising," Pete comments. "Well, give it time. Maybe Ghost Machine 2.0 can rough Doom up some more." However, the only wrestler that maybe has a metal head pulls Doom to his corner, violently and tags in Matt 'Neo' Myers. Ghost holds Jimmy by the hair, allowing Myers to kick the Doomtopian in the jaw. 'Neo' grabs Doom in a front facelock and walks him out of the corner before dropping with a DDT. Matt rolls Doom onto his stomach, then backflips, landing on Jimmy with a double stomp. ONOMATOPOEIA! Myers doesn't remain on top of Jimmy for long, though, as he rushes for the turnbuckles and quickly scales to the top. 'Neo' jumps off, flipping forward a full four hundred and fifty degrees and landing with a splash, not to mention a lateral press. ONE! TWO-NO! "Shoulder up! Despite his early retreat at the start of the match, Matt 'Neo' Myers has made an impact in a short amount of time. I thought he might have gotten the win after that Shitty Sequels Splash," Pete says. "Ah, but you forget that Matt Myers is Matt Myers," King points out. Myers lifts a groggy Jimmy the Doom to his feet, and sends him into the ropes. Matt pivots as Jimmy bounces back, and extends a foot. "JESUS CHRIST MY FUCKING NOSE!" "Can someone turn down his volume?" Pete asks. Then, as an afterthought, adds, "Nice superkick from Myers." "Holy crap, I might have to eat my words. Myers and Ghost Machine 2.0 might actually manage to come away with a victory tonight." 'Neo' drops down to make another lateral press and Herve slides in to count it. ONE! TWO! T-NO! Manson breaks up with pin with a flurry of stomps to Matt's back. Villechaize springs to his feet and berates The Raging Bull back to his corner, while Jimmy the Doom slowly rises. "And Manson has just stopped Matt Myers in his tracks!" Pete shouts. "More like stomped him in his tracks! No? Fuck you, then, Pete," King replies. "Though, you make a good point. Myers is like the weakest person in the SWF, referees and valets not included." Doom looks around, and pulls Myers off the mat. Jimmy throws an overhand right, but 'Neo' quickly sends up a forearm to block it. Myers then cracks Doom with an uppercut, before pivoting around with a left-handed backfist and a right hook. Finally, Matt whips back with a left cross, all in a matter of seconds. "What a combo from Matt 'Neo' Myers!" Pete exclaims. "And stop it at that! I don't want to hear about the Devonshire hook, or the Smythwyckenfield punch or anything else. They were punches, and that's all," King says. Leaning back as if he were in The Matrix, Jimmy the Doom refuses to go down after the barrage, and slowly goes back to standing up straight just like Momma Doom taught. Myers, at a loss of what to do after the onslaught, stands still as Jimmy unleashes a right hand. HORTATORY! Myers cocks his head to the side, as if something is puzzling him, and mutters, "I smell cake" before dropping to his knees and then flat on his face. "The hell?" Pete mutters. "Matt Myers just got knocked out!" King screams gleefully. Jimmy seems a bit confused, but after some urging from Manson, rolls 'Neo' over and makes a lateral press. ONE! TWO! THR-NO! "Was that a kick out, or a save from Ghost Machine 2.0?" Pete wonders. "I'm going with save, because I don't want to give Matt Myers any credit for anything," King replies. Villechaize gets up and orders Ghost Machine to exit the ring, while Doom pulls Myers to his feet. Jimmy takes a step backwards, giving himself some space, then leans in, driving both palms into Matt's chest, sending 'Neo' into the Doom/Manson corner. However, Myers is either expecting this, or insanely lucky, plants his feet against the bottom and middle buckles, and dives, going between Jimmy's legs. 'Neo' rolls through and makes a break for his own corner, while the Doomtopian spins around and gives chase. Doom leaps in desperation, and manages to snare Matt around the neck, dragging him down to the mat, a foot from Ghost Machine's hand. "That was like something from Animal Planet, or the Discovery Channel," Pete says. "Yeah, watch as the mighty Dorkosaurus stalks and brings down the Toolaciraptor." Doom pulls Myers up, and 'Neo' fires off a kick that Jimmy snags. Matt hops awkwardly on one foot before doing what everyone in the building expects him to do, except for Jimmy the Doom, it would seem, and cracks the Doomtopian with an enzugiri, along with tagging in Ghost Machine. MOLYBDENUM! Myers gets back to his feet, and walks right into a shotei from Ghost Machine. "JESUS CHRIST MY FUCKING NOSE!" Machine fires off another shotei, but the blow is softend by Myers' hands clutching his face, so Ghost instead wraps an arm around 'Neo' and threads one of Matt's arms between his own legs. Ghost spins out of the corner and slams Myers into the mat. "Undefined Variable! But why the hell is Ghost Machine 2.0 attacking Matt Myers?" Pete asks. "Wait, how the hell do you know that the Undefined Variable is an Exploder '98?" King questions. "A what now? Look, they just showed me the clip and told me that Ghost Machine 2.0 calls it the Undefined Variable. Now, answer my question." "Well, as we said earlier, it could be that he just really dislikes Matt Myers, or, his Crush, Kill, Destroy programming his overriding his tag team programming, thanks in part to his jolt with that cattle prod on Lockdown," King explains. With Myers nearly unconscious, Herve Villechaize is given the task of rolling 'Neo' out of the ring while Ghost Machine turns his optical interface on Jimmy the Doom. Ghost lifts Jimmy to his feet and cracks him in the jaw with a shotei. Doom takes a half-step back, but fires off a shotei of his own. Ghost Machine tries to shake off the blow (Or he's defragging or something), and thrusts a palm all up in Jimmy's Doomtopian grill. Doom snaps off another shotei, which Ghost answers with a palm strike of his own. "I think we've got a problem, here. Ghost Machine 2.0 seems to be mirroring all of Jimmy the Doom's moves," Pete points out. "Just a matter of time before Ghost Machine 2.0 knocks Jimmy out," King says hopefully. The Doomtopian and the maybe robot trade another pair of palm strikes before Doom hops backwards and gets into a very familiar pose. "Looks like Jimmy the Doom is about to unleash a Yak Kick on Ghost Machine 2.0." "Yes, yes it does, Pete. I am watching this match along with you," King says scornfully. However, Doom isn't the only person in the ring copying Ralph Macchio, as Ghost Machine soon adopts the same stance. The two grapplers simply stand on one foot, staring at each other while Matt Myers pulls himself up. Still angry over the earlier attack, 'Neo' clambers to the top turnbuckle and jumps off, hitting Machine square in the back with a dropkick. As would be expected, this sends Ghost right into Doom's path, and Jimmy acts quickly, catching Ghost under the chin with a kick. NAPHTHALENE! "Yak Kick!" Pete ejaculates. Whether it's meant as an exclamatory or as in orgasm, or both, is up to you. "And Matt Myers is a complete moron of a jackassed fucktard," King mutters. "Well, Ghost Machine 2.0 did attack him earlier. And he is supposed to be 'Neo', and thus, attack machines," Pete offers. Myers scrambles back to his feet and fires off two quick kicks to Jimmy's knee before nailing him with a spinning heel kick to the head. Doom staggers under the blows, allowing 'Neo' to snare him with a 3/4 facelock and drop. "The Blue Pill!" Pete shouts. "Matt Myers has quickly disrupted this match, taking out not only one of his opponents, but his partner as well." "That is Matt Myers for you, stupidity beyond measure." Manson slowly enters the ring and motions for Myers to come his way. Touching his nose gingerly, 'Neo' backs away and exits the squared circle. The Raging Bull heads out as well, not wanting to draw the wrath of a very vexed Herve Villechaize. Ghost Machine pulls himself off the mat, followed moments later by Jimmy the Doom. Both men glance at each other, then head towards Matt Myers. Jimmy rears back and clocks 'Neo' in the face. "JESUS CHRIST MY FUCKING NOSE!" Ghost Machine now steps in front of Doom and proceeds to tag in Myers. In the face. Repeatedly. "JESUS CHRIST MY FUCKING NOSE!" "If I'm not mistaken, it looks like Ghost Machine 2.0 was just displaying some anger there, but if he's really a robot, he shouldn't have any emotions," Pete says. "Listen, MacDougal, Ghost Machine 2.0 has the most advanced software, so there is a very high probability of him imitating human emotions. Besides, haven't you ever seen a movie where a robot is taught human emotions? Sure, it's at the expense of a few mangled corpses, but the end result is what's important. So, if Matt Myers gets his faced rearranged in order for Ghost Machine 2.0 to know the false and cheap love of a hooker, that's fine by me." Doom yanks Matt into the ring and whips him to the ropes. 'Neo' ducks under Jimmy's outstretched arm and takes him down with a neckbreaker. Myers quickly rolls Doom over and makes a lateral press. ONE! TWO! THR-NO! "Kick out from Jimmy the Doom after that Nebuchadnezzar Neckbreaker!" Longdogger shouts. "God, when is this match going to be over? I've got to take a massive shit," King mumbles. Myers gets back up and waits on Doom. Jimmy obliges 'Neo' shortly, and gets sent to the ropes. Doom bounces back and lunges, his finger tips digging deep into Matt's throat. Jimmy regains his footing and quickly wraps both hands around Myers' neck. Doom lifts, twirls, and sits out, driving 'Neo' into the mat. The Doomtopian quickly scrambles to the top rope and jumps off, only to eat canvas. OBELISK! "And Jimmy the Doom face plants on that Jimmy's Jump attempt. He seemed to be doing well, he got off a nice Hand of Doom, then a Jimmy Bomb, but Myers managed to move just enough out of the way." "Are you kidding? Jimmy just didn't get enough distance. Like Matt Myers could do something right," King replies. Regardless of the reason for Jimmy's miss, both men are down on the mat, at least momentarily, as Doom slowly rises to his feet. Jimmy stumbles around the ring, eventually making it to Ghost Machine, who hits him with a shotei. Doom staggers back, but answers with a wild punch. Machine throws another shotei, only for Doom to hit him with an elbow, knocking Ghost Machine off the apron and onto some conveniently placed druids. "Observation pointing out very obvious details of the match." "Blatant bias towards heels regardless of current situation of match." "Weak defense of faces." "Poorly executed joke regarding your mother's promiscuity." Doom turns around to find Matt Myers on his feet, searching for Jimmy. For some strange reason, the Doomtopian tiptoes towards 'Neo' and applies an inverted facelock. Doom reaches down, hooks Matt's leg, lifts him off the mat, and drops Myers, nearly dislodging his sunglasses. "Doom Driver! And with Ghost Machine 2.0 currently tangled in some druids, Jimmy the Doom and Manson might win this match right now!" Pete yells. "I think I'd approve of an end like that. That way, Ghost Machine 2.0 doesn't exactly lose, as he isn't the one getting pinned, but Myers has to feel the shame of failure yet again," King adds. Jimmy keeps the leg hooked and Herve Villechaize scrambles over to count the pin. ONE! TWO! THREE-NO! "Kick out! I can't believe it, but Matt 'Neo' Myers just kicked out of the Doom Driver! Now, granted, I'm not really sure what the Doom Driver is, and it's not one of Jimmy the Doom's typical finishing moves, but it's still dangerous." "You forgot to mention that Matt Myers is a little bitch," King informs Longdogger. Doom gets back up and lifts Myers off the mat, while Ghost Machine is busy piledriving a pair of druids. Jimmy whips 'Neo' into the ropes and charges in after. Matt bounces off and right into a front waistlock from Doom, who quickly slides around to a side, then finally a rear waistlock before popping his bony hips and driving Myers into the mat. HELIOTROPE! "Jimmy-Plex! Say, that looked like a weird version of that...what did you call it...German suplex?" Pete asks. "Yes, the Jimmy-Plex is a corkscrew German suplex," King explains as if to a small child. He can barely refrain from giving Pete a gold star. Mostly because he doesn't want to get a Trimbly punch to the face. Doom quickly scrambles over and covers Myers as Ghost Machine 2.0 is inspecting a soft pretzel, but soon gets a message that he's still in a tag match and heads to his corner. ONE! TWO! THREE! NO! "Foot on the rope! Matt Myers, despite how stupid you've said he is, King, knew where he was in the ring, and got a foot on the bottom rope, stopping the count," Pete says, impressed. "Damn it! Why won't he just give up? And how in the hell are those glasses still attatched to his stupid head?" King wonders. Jimmy the Doom pulls Myers off the mat and drags 'Neo' to his corner. The Doomtopian tags Manson into the match and roughly shoves Matt out of the buckles. The Doomtopian springs off the ropes and jumps, planting his foot in Myers' chest. THROMBOSIS! And right into The Raging Bull's waiting arms. The Stampede launches 'Neo' up and over, holding on to the full nelson in order to form a bridge. Herve Villechaize slides down to count the pin. ONE! Ghost Machine enters the ring, heading towards Manson, while Jimmy the Doom looks to cut the mechanical monstrosity off. TWO! Machine keeps motoring along, but he appears to be in desperate need of oil. THREE! Jimmy launches himself at Ghost, limbs akimbo. Machine tries for a railgun, and is surprised to find Doom still attached, legs wrapped around Ghost's chassis. Herve leaps up and signals for the bell. DING! DING! DING! "Ladies and gentlemen! The wizzle of the matchizzle, JIIIMEEE THE DOOOM AND MAAAANSON!" Funyon shouts. Mastodon's "Crusher Destroyer" roars over the speakers for a second time and the druids rush backstage, intent on getting some cake before Blank eats it all, while Jimmy the Doom remains hanging on Ghost Machine. "Well, that's really awkward. Doom should try to let go, but I think Ghost Machine 2.0 is still looking to Crush, Kill, and Destroy," Pete says. "Eh, just throw him Matt Myers," King offers. Manson gets to his feet and simply stares at Ghost Machine's repeated attempts to suplex Jimmy the Doom. Finally, The Stampede hits the ropes behind Ghost Machine 2.0 and drills him in the back of his broad neck. ZYMURGY! "Western Lariat! That ought to loosen a few circuits. Or snap some vertebrae," Pete adds, covering all bases. Manson reaches down, hauls his partner off the mat, but doesn't stick around to celebrate, just heads back up the ramp. Doom joins Lois outside the ring and follow after The Stampede, leaving Ghost Machine and Matt Myers to sort out their problems. "Coming up next, more Lethal Lottery action, as we've got matches from all of the other pools!" Pete shills. "You don't mean the Ced Ordonez and Laberinto versus Amy Stephens and Bruce Blank, do you? That poor schmuck, Laberinto, got a damn referee! They'll get ripped to shreds in under five minutes. Less if Blank even gets in the match," King replies. As Longdogger Pete and the Suicide King bicker, Smarkdown fades to a commercial for the E! True Hollywood Story of Madrac: Where the Hell Did He Go? Seriously, Where?

“Welcome back to SWF Smarkdown,” Longdogger Pete declares as the show gets back onto the air, “it’s almost time for our next match, but first-” Quite what the Longdogger was going to say never becomes clear, as he’s interrupted by the blasting opening of ‘Blitzkrieg Bop’ by the Ramones (which gets a small pop from the crowd, although presumably from the arrival of Amy Stephens rather than the fact that she’s cut LDP off given they couldn’t hear him to begin with). “Listen Pete, the crowd are cheering,” Suicide King says, “and you know why? Apart from that fact that you were cut off, I mean?” “No…” Pete says, clearly already knowing that he’s not going to like the direction this is going in. “Because Amy Stephens exposed what a useless, washed-up has-been the Insane Luchador Andrew Rickmen is when she choked him out on Lockdown!” King finishes gleefully, before adding, “and then he had the cheek to challenge Bruce Blank? Even this Gambling Man would have a hard time finding odds worth making the bet on for that match.” “King, I obviously wasn’t here to see that match first hand,” Pete says, “but-” “No, you’d been put in hospital by your son,” King interrupts helpfully. “-but I did see it on TV,” LDP continues through gritted teeth, “and I can’t agree with your interpretation of events! The Insane Luchador is not a walkover; whether Amy got past him through guts, toughness or just beginner’s luck I don’t know, but Bruce Blank had better be ready for when he steps into the ring with Rickmen!” “That’s OK, I expect the head trauma hasn’t worn off yet.” Amy Stephens (sans beer, for now at least) has now got to the ring and has called for the microphone from Funyon. The veteran ring announcer passes it over and the SWF’s newest arrival pauses for a second to look around at the fans, then raises it to her lips. What will the first broadcast words be of this young lady from Merrie Olde England? “Everybody better lissen up right now ‘cos I’ve got sumthin to say innit!” “…was that a sentence?” King asks, glancing sideways to the Longdogger for a hint. Pete just shakes his head in confusion. “Basically people I got a bit of an issue with me brother, ya get me?” Amy declares. “Last year he came home from the SWF an’ hung around for a bit, but about October or sumthin’ he just disappeared, right? Now I ain’t heard from ‘im, and me mam ain’t heard from ‘im, and basically what it is, right, is I’m lookin’ for ‘im.” “I think we need a translator,” Suicide King confides to LDP, “I mean as bad as you are, at least you only mispronounce one word!” “Bite me.” “Didn’t Kevin do that?” “Now, I know Mike din’ have all that many friends around here when he left,” Amy says turning to face the back, “an’ I know that people have come and gone since then innit, but, right, I’m ain’t really bovvered if you like Mike or not, ya get me? I ain’t lookin’ for ‘im so we can have a nice family reunion, I’m lookin’ for ‘im ‘cos the bastard’s got me parents worried and I’m the only one who seems to give a shit about ‘em. So, if anyone knows where me brother is, you ain’t gonna be doing ‘im a favour to tell me, right?” “God, it’s… almost hypnotic, isn’t it?” Suicide King says, swaying dizzily under the impact of high-velocity Nottingham ‘Street’ spoken with reckless abandon by a 21 year-old girl with an undercut. Amy has stopped speaking, and while half the crowd try and let their brains catch up with their ears the response from the SWF roster isn’t exactly overwhelming. No music kicks up, no lights start flashing and no-one comes forth with a map with an ‘X’ on it (or should that be ‘sXe’ on it?) to show where the man known as Toxxic is hiding. Toxxic himself doesn’t seem to be in town by some freak of chance and appear from nowhere to greet his sister either, which must surely break some rule of wrestling continuity. “Is she just going to wait there until she gets an answer?” Longdogger Pete asks after about thirty seconds of Amy folding her arms and glaring towards the soundstage, “I mean her determination is admirable, but we have got some bid’ness to be getting on with…” However, it is at that moment that ‘Don’t Ask Me No Questions’ by Lynyrd Skynyrd starts playing, and the fans cease whatever conversations they are now involved in to greet the King of Pain in fit fashion. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Bruce Blank doesn’t pay much attention to the fans as he saunters down the aisle, brand new cowboy hat on his head and the Ultraviolent Title strapped around his broad waist. He pauses for a moment to jaw with a crowd member, but his attention is clearly on the girl in the ring. “Well, I doubt Bruce knows much about the location of Toxxic,” Longdogger Pete points out, “but he is Amy Stephens’ tag partner in the Lethal Lottery Tag Match scheduled for later tonight! Talk about an odd couple, King!” “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again,” King replies, “wtf?” “How do you pronounce that, again?” Didn’t you hear me the first time?” Bruce climbs the ring steps, cowboy boots making the steel ring hollowly under his feet, then casually steps over the top rope into the ring. He reaches for the microphone in Amy Stephens’ hand… but the Punk-Rock Princess pulls it back out of his reach! Bruce glowers for a moment, then heaves a long-suffering sigh and heads over to the side of the ring nearest the announce table where a technician can provide him with another one. “Now now, little lady,” he rumbles once he is suitably sonically enhanced, “you might let a man speak! I’m not only the second-longest reigning champion in SWF history,” here he pats the title with a contented sigh, careful not to catch himself on the barbed wire, “but I’m also your tag team partner for tonight. And since I’m obviously the most experienced member of the team, I’ll be calling the shots.” He smirks, regarding Amy who (like much of the roster) is about a head shorter than him as one might a wilful but stupid teenager. You remember what Toxxic was like when he thought people were talking down to him? Yeah, this is his sister we’re talking about. Similar family upbringing and all, plus a famous older brother to contend with. Just wanted to get that straight. “Fuck you, cuntface!” “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “Can she say that!?” King splutters, “we’re on national TV, for Christ’s sake!” “I think this segment is officially sponsored by Frost-Brand Land Mines,” Pete says, checking his paperwork, “so she’s probably good to go!” Meanwhile, the shock of being talked back to in such a way is clear on Bruce’s visage, but the Trailer Park Messiah schools his features into something more approaching his usual scowl and he quickly adjusts his manner of address. “I don’t give a rat’s ass who your brother was, and I don’t care what you’re here for,” he growls, “as long as you’re meant to be tagging with me, you will do as I say! Personally I got my suspicions about this goddamn supposedly-random Lottery, and what I reckon is that even after I helped him get rid of all those fancy-ass sponsors and their damn standards, Joe Peters still wants me outta here so he lumbers me with some little chit of a pseudo-partner like you!” the big man finishes, jabbing a thick, meaty finger at Amy. “Damnit, I’m not losing a shot at another title because I have to babysit someone’s goddamn kid sister!” “Oh yeah!?” Amy Stephens half-screams back at him, “guess you din’ see Lockdown then yer big twat, ‘cos I just took out the guy who wants to rip yer bloody carcass apart, innit!” “Rickmen?” Bruce snorts, “Hell, if he thinks he has a chance at stopping me then he really is insane, he just got choked out by a girl! But since I don’t think you’re gonna do what I tell you in the tag match,” the big man continues, “I got myself a better idea. Why don’t you go get your Barbie dolls and sit in the back shaving their heads or something, or maybe send one of them off on a mission to find Ken? Cause you-” “You see this?” Amy snaps, giving Bruce the finger, “you see this, right? You can sit on this and fuckin’ swivel, you prick! And if you ain’t careful I’ll shove them boots an’ that hat and yer fuckin’ title belt with it’s barbed wire onnit right up your arse, YA GET ME!!?” “Oh yeah?” Bruce laughs, “you and whose army, toots?” He holds one out sweaty paw, fingers extended, and grins. “Come on, hit it. Let’s see what you got.” Amy narrows her eyes and put the microphone down. Then she follows the instructions of Two-Face in Batman Forever and balls up her fist… …reaches way back… …and asserts herself. *smak!* Bruce Blank is a big man and a strong one, so it’s perhaps not surprising that he doesn’t fall to the ground clutching his palm or wrist. Nonetheless, the blow knocks his hand a good foot or so backwards and a faintly surprised expression seems to cross the King of Pain’s face, although he’s careful to chase it away a moment later and replace it with the derisive sneer that was there before. “Seriously, that’s all you’ve got?” he snorts, “c’mon, my third wife hit harder than that, and that was before I got the money back on the Mail Order for damaged goods! Take your best shot!” Amy eyes him again, and those members of the crowd or home audience capable of lip-reading will see her inaudibly say the words ‘my best shot?’. Bruce nods, and Amy draws back her fist again… …then kicks him as hard as she can in the crotch. *CHING!* “YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “FOUL!” King bawls, but no-one cares. All of the air in Bruce’s lungs whistles out through his teeth and the King of Pain first shudders, then starts to collapse forwards. Those same viewers might now be able to read the words ‘Damn, I’m getting sick of that…’ as Bruce relives his Hardcore battle against Ghost Machine 2.0, but- *CRACK!* “Good God Almighty, a headbutt too?” LDP asks in shock as Amy drives her forehead into Bruce’s. This completes the collapse of the Ultraviolent Champion, but it seems that Blank’s head might have been slightly harder than the Punk-Rock Princess anticipated as well, as she wobbles on her feet and then topples backwards to land on her backside. Bruce is facedown on the mat, looking something like a jacknifed truck as his groinal area is lifted above the mat to allow his hands to access his traumatised testes (for all the good it’ll do), but Amy chooses not to press her argument any further and instead rolls out of the ring - pausing slightly to regain her balance as she wobbles again - and then sets off up the ramp. “Well King, the first blows have been struck by the team of Amy and Bruce in the Lethal Lottery Tag Tournament,” Longdogger Pete says, “but they were between the team members! Is there any hope, any hope at all, that they’ll be able to co-operate later tonight?” “Co-operate?” King demands, “I think we’ll be lucky if Bruce can compete! The man goes through hell - twice - at Clusterfuck, then fends off the fiendishly-advanced Ghost Machine 2.0 on Lockdown to defend his title, and now he gets taken out by his own tag partner? I think he’s right, Dogger; I sense the hand of Joseph Peters!” “I won’t ask what it’s doing, or how you can sense it,” Pete deadpans, “fans, we’ll be back after the break!” STARWIPE~!

“King, as you know, last week on Lockdown Joseph Peters announced a tournament to determine the top contenders to the Tag Team Titles currently held by Landon Maddix and Max King,” says Ben Hardy. “And as a result of the Lethal Lottery that was held, our next match could very well feature two men who could see each other again on Storm in tag team action, in the form of Archie Griffon and the Wildchild!” “And Griffon and Wildchild are no strangers themselves to tag team wrestling,” adds the Suicide King. “Wildchild, as most people knows, enjoyed his greatest success in the tag team division, but Griffon has had some success in his own right… and this is a matchup that favors Griffon, because he’s just about fast enough to be able to get his hands on Wildchild, and he’s got way too much size and strength for the kid to have any hope against!” “But King,” asks Hardy, “don’t you think that Wildchild has enough experience by now that he’ll be able to handle Arch Griffon?” “Wildchild may have experience in the ring, but Griffon is so much bigger and stronger than any of the guys that he usually wrestles,” replies King. “He’s totally stepping out of his weight class for this match!” “As I alluded to before,” continues Hardy, “the Lethal Lottery paired up a number of SWF Superstars who have never teamed before, such as Wildchild and Stryke, as well as Archie Griffon and Jay Hawke.” “And that’s another reason why I think that Wildchild has a good chance to win this match,” explains King. “I have my doubts that Wildchild is completely focused his actual opponent in the ring tonight; he’s probably going to be looking past Griffon at Jay Hawke, and you can’t afford that kind of distraction against an opponent like Griffon.” “Definitely not,” agrees Hardy. “He’ll put your lights out, in a hurry!” “And, since Hawke and Griffon are going to be partners in this thing, Griffon may very well come out here and give Wildchild a beating, as a favor to Hawke.” “I don’t know whether or not you’re being serious King,” replies Hardy, “but I wouldn’t put it past him; there’s no question that Wildchild has been Hawke’s most difficult opponent since he won the International Title. It’s only a matter of time before Wildchild gets another shot at that belt, and sooner or later, Jay’s luck is going to run out… so it’s not inconceivable that Hawke would enlist the services of someone else to try and do as much damage as possible!” “Perhaps not inconceivable, but unlikely, and not even necessary!” counters King. “Try to keep in mind, Hardy, that Jay Hawke has held that title longer than anyone else has ever held ANY title! He’s done just fine with defending that title on his own!” DING! DING! DING! With the sound of the timekeeper’s bell, the lights dim in the Wherever Arena as Unearth’s “Bloodlust of the Human Condition” begins to play. The stage is suddenly lit up by a flash of blinding white pyro, through which steps the monstrous Archie Griffon. “The following contest is scheduled for one fall!” exclaims Funyon. “Making his way to the ring, from Des Moines, Iowa, and weighing in at three hundred two pounds… Archie GRIIIIIFON!” Archie disregards the fans at ringside as he power walks towards the ring. “Boy, Archie Griffon is all business, King,” notes Hardy, as Arch climbs deliberately into the ring. “Wildchild’s definitely got a fight on his hands tonight!” Griffon blinks repeatedly to readjust his vision as the lights come back on, and limbers up while he waits, stretching in the corner as his music fades out, only to be quickly replaced by the sounds of Mystikal’s “Bouncin’ Back.” YEAAAAAAAAAAH! “YOU KEEP BUMPIN’ ME AGAINST THE WALL! YEAH, I KNOW I LET YOU SLIDE BEFORE! BUT, UNTIL YOU SEEN ME… TRUST ME… YOU AIN’T SEEN BOUNCIN’ BACK!” “And his opponent,” booms Funyon, “being accompanied to the ring by Melissa Fasaki and hailing from the Bahamas, weighing two hundred fourteen pounds: the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!” The Frisco fans cheer as WC and Melissa bound enthusiastically onto the stage. “I’ll never understand what people see in this guy!” snaps King, as the pair approach the ringside area. “I mean, all he does is jump around like a rubber band; what’s so great about that?” “There’s more to wrestling to just getting on the mat and rolling around, King,” replies Ben. “Wildchild has been an entertainer all his life, first as a circus acrobat, and now as a wrestler. He knows how to give the fans what they want, King, simple as that!” “Hogwash!” barks King. “These people know better than that… they have to! They can’t be that easily amused!” Wildchild removes his shin guards, handing them to Melissa and giving her a peck on the cheek before somersaulting between the bottom and middle ropes to enter the ring. “And what the hell is that about?” demands King. “What’s this guy’s malfunction? He comes down to the ring wearing weapons on his legs, he takes them off for the match, and then puts them back on when he leaves the ring… it’s like he’s stealing gimmicks from Al Snow!” Wildchild walks around the ring, sizing up Griffon as his music fades out. Referee Ronald “Red” Herrington signals for the timekeeper to ring the bell, signifying the start of the match: DING! DING! DING! “Bell’s gone,” says Hardy, “and we’re underway!” Wildchild and Archie meet in the center of the ring in a collar-and-elbow tie-up. Griffon, with hardly any sign of effort, absolutely launches WC across the ring! Wildchild has to grab onto the ropes just to save himself from falling out to the floor! “That’s what Wildchild is going to be going up against all match long!” cites King, as WC looks up at Griffon in astonishment. “No sane person would bet on him!” Wildchild shakes his head vigorously before gamely stepping back up to Griffon and locking up again. Archie pulls back to get some momentum behind his shove as he heaves Wildchild away from him a second time, but this time the Bahama Bomber latches on to Griffon’s left arm with a death grip, using the big Hawkeye’s strength against him to take him over with a sensational armdrag! Griffon rolls to his feet and immediately charges WC, who deftly avoids him with a leapfrog, and catches him as he bounces off the ropes with another armdrag takeover! The fans cheer as WC shifts into an armbar, while Archie slowly gets back to his feet. “Good job by Wildchild to use his speed to get an advantage in this match,” says Hardy, as Griffon muscles WC back towards a neutral corner. Herrington orders them to break apart, and Arch takes a few steps backwards before attempting to surprise WC with a fierce overhand right, only for the Tropical Tumbler to duck out of the way! “Well, that’s really his only chance,” adds King. “He’s obviously not going to be able to go toe-to-toe with Griffon, so he’s going to have stick and move, like he just did in the corner!” Wildchild hammers Archie repeatedly in the head and gut with rapid-fire rights and lefts, until Herrington once again gets between them to get out of the corner, and Griffon takes advantage of this reprieve to escape to the arena floor to gather himself. “Like you said before, King, Wildchild has to remain a moving target for this guy,” says Hardy, as Griffon checks his nose for blood out on the floor. “But he’s doing a good job of using his speed!” Griffon uses most of a ten-count before climbing back into the ring. He locks up with WC and takes advantage with a kneelift to the midsection that doubles him over. Archie tilts Wildchild’s chest upwards and lights him up with a tremendous reverse knife-edge chop that nearly knocks him off his feet! Griffon then whips WC across the ring, knocking him backwards with a forceful shoulderblock that sends him stumbling backwards! “There you see the strength of Arch Griffon right there!” mentions King, as Griffon taunts WC with a double bicep pose. “And that’s not fun to look at, if you’re the opponent!” WC runs to the opposing ropes, prompting Archie to lower his head to deliver a back-body drop… CRACK! … But the Caribbean Cruiser blasts him in the top of the head with a running knee smash that sends him stumbling backwards! WC presses his advantage, keeping Archie off balance by hitting a running leg lariat that knocks the big Hawkeye back against the ropes! Wildchild looks out to the fans, twisting his hands over his head in a circular motion before he charges across the ring, building momentum as he bounces off the ropes, and then launches into the air as he approaches the edge of the ring and lands in a seated position on Archie’s shoulders, swinging him around towards the ropes and pulling him over the top rope, dumping him out to the arena floor with a breathtaking spinning Hurricanrana! DUB CEE! DUB CEE! DUB CEE! DUB CEE! “Well, that’s one way to overcome a strength disadvantage,” reflects Hardy, as WC soaks in the crowd’s adulation, “never give the guy a chance to hit you!” “Absolutely,” adds King. “And I’ll give the devil his due: Wildchild has been working that running kneelift in to his arsenal here in recent weeks, and he’s been very effective in getting that to work for him… much to my personal chagrin!” “Now Wildchild has a chance to capitalize on… wait a minute; what’s going on?” Hardy is distracted by Jay Hawke, who steps out onto the stage with a clipboard in hand, intently watching the ring as Wildchild bounces off the ropes and knocks Griffon into the ring barricade with a baseball slide! “What is Jay Hawke doing out here?” wonders Hardy, as WC rolls back to his feet. “I’m not sure,” replies King, “but I don’t think that Wildchild has seen him yet.” “He has now!” exclaims Ben. “Jay Hawke has brought this match to a standstill!” WC gives Jay a menacing look before electing to turn his attention back to his opponent. He rushes into the corner and leaps onto the top turnbuckle, twisting in midair as he springs out of the ring to crash into Griffon with a flying cross-body block… CRACK! … But the big Hawkeye snatches him out of the air and charges towards the corner, slamming him back-first into the ringpost! “Oh my goodness!” cries Hardy, as Griffon carries WC over towards the ring barricade. “What a move by Archie Griffon! And he follows it up with a snake eyes on the ring barricade! Is Wildchild going to be able to come back from this?” *and we’re clear* Ben and King take their cue to stop talking as the action continues… Griffon pulls WC up to his feet and traps him in a front waistlock before pushing him backwards into the edge of the ring, jamming Wildchild’s back against the hard metal edge of the ring apron. Jay Hawke jots a few notes down onto his clipboard before making his way down to ringside, as Griffon rolls WC back into the ring. Arch slides into the ring and immediately applies a lateral press: ONE! TWO! THR— Wildchild kicks out at two! Arch pulls WC to his feet and scoops him off the canvas, hanging him over his shoulder as he quickly takes a few steps forward and drives him down onto his outstretched thigh with a running shoulderbreaker! Hawke nods his head in approval as Griffon goes for another cover: ONE! TWO! But Wildchild just beats the three-count! Archie pulls WC back to his feet, but the Caribbean stuns him with a lunging punch to the midsection, followed by a second, and a third! He scrambles to his feet and runs to the edge of the ring, leaping into the air as he bounces off the ropes, but the big Hawkeye snatches him out of the air and flings him overhead in a tremendous belly-to-belly suplex that earns gasps from the crowd! Hawke jots a few more things down on his clipboard as Griffon rolls atop WC, hooking the leg as Herrington drops down to count: ONE! TWO! THRE— Wildchild just barely gets the shoulder up! Archie stands up and walks over to WC’s lower half. He bends down to grab one of his legs and then turns him over into a single-leg Boston Crab! Herrington drops down to check Wildchild’s face, asking him if he wants to quit. Outside the ring, Melissa slams her hands enthusiastically onto the ring apron, imploring the fans to get behind her man. *we’re back in: five… four… three…* “Welcome back to Smarkdown,” Hardy shouts over the now-thunderous din of the crowd. “And during the break, Archie Griffon was able to really put the squeeze on Wildchild, King!” “That’s right; Wildchild got virtually no offense at all, and even when it looked like he was about to stage a comeback, Griffon snuffed it out with a tremendous belly-to-belly suplex!” King pauses while the technicians queue up the replay, splitting the screen between the flashback and Griffon’s half-crab in live action. “There you see Wildchild getting a few shots in on Arch Griffon... goes to the ropes, and… WHAM! Griffon practically threw him THROUGH the ring!” “And now he’s got Wildchild in this punishing half-crab,” continues Hardy, as the screen shifts fully back to live action, “but Melissa Fasaki’s been trying to get these fans here in the Cow Palace to get behind Wildchild, and she seems to be having success!” “These people can cheer for him all they want to,” quips King, “but that doesn’t mean much when you’ve got a three hundred pound man leaning on your back!” But Wildchild continues to hang in there, clawing at the canvas as he attempts to make his way over to the ropes. LET’S GO, WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET’S GO, WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET’S GO, WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET’S GO, WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* “He’s almost there, King!” cries Hardy. “I think he’s going to make it!” Sensing that Hardy may be correct, however, Griffon releases the half-crab and pulls WC back to his feet, stunning him with a European Uppercut before whipping him into the ropes, snatching him in a bearhug as he rebounds and spinning around sharply on his heel, planting him back into the canvas with a spinning Spinebuster! Griffon gets to his feet and taunts the crowd with another double bicep pose, earning polite applause from Jay Hawke, and ravenous boos from most of the seventeen thousand in attendance: YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! “It appears that Archie Griffon has learned his lesson in how to deal with Wildchild,” notes King. “Meaning that he’s not going to give him any chance to get going; he’s going to nip any comeback attempt in the bud, and it won’t be long now before Wildchild runs out of fight!” “Never underestimate the resiliency of the Wildchild, King,” replies Hardy. “He’s not going to just roll lie there and take it; I’m sure that he still has something up his sleeve!” “Griffon better stop wasting time, though,” warns King. “He shouldn’t be worried about the fans!” Griffon pats his thigh before running towards the ropes. “Uh-oh,” groans Hardy. “He’s going for that legdrop!” “If he hits this, it’s bad news for Wildchild!” crows King. Griffon leaps into the air as he rushes back towards his opponent, and extends his leg as he comes crashing down… but Wildchild is able to roll out of the way at the last split second! “He missed it!” exclaims Ben, as WC crawls towards a nearby corner “He took too much time there… You can’t give a veteran like Wildchild that kind of recovery time, King!” “Unfortunately, I have to agree with you,” concedes King. “Wildchild, much to my dismay, has proven to be battle-tested inside that ring. You can’t give him any daylight, or make any margin for error! And just after I just finished praising Griffon for not letting up on him… made me look bad as a color man!” “Eh,” quips Ben with a shrug, “that’s not all that tough, King!” “You shut your mouth!” snaps King. “One word from me and you’ll be back on the concourse hocking t-shirts where I found you!” WC uses the turnbuckles to pull himself back to his feet, and tries to get his wind back. He catches sight of Archie lumbering towards him, head lowered to deliver a running shoulderblock into the corner, and dives out of the way! WC gets a few more breaths before the big Hawkeye turns back towards him; Archie winds up to deliver a vicious right hook, but Wildchild blocks it with his left arm… BAP! … And snaps Griffon’s head back with a right jab! And a second, followed by a left hook to the body, and another right jab to the face, all of which seems to be having little effect on Griffon! “Wildchild’s going to work with those quick hands!” exclaims Hardy. “Upstairs… downstairs… I don’t know where this guy’s weak spot is, King!” WC rushes towards the edge of the ring and leaps onto the top rope, curling into a ball as he slingshots back into the ring and blasting him in the chest with his patented Pinball attack… but it’s not enough to knock Griffon off his feet! The big Hawkeye stumbles backwards, dazed and confused, but still standing! “Oh my goodness!” shrieks Ben. “Pinball, and it doesn’t send him down!” Shaking his head in disbelief, Wildchild rushes back towards the ropes to gear up for another Pinball… “Wow! And that’s well over two hundred pounds of Wildchild,” adds King, his thought trailing off as WC finally sends Griffon to the canvas with a second Pinball. “There; the second one did it!” “Yeah,” replies Ben. “But the FIRST one should have done it!” Wildchild rolls out onto the apron and heads to the corner, where he climbs up to the top turnbuckle. “And that’s almost two hundred and twenty pounds of the Wildchild, all concentrated on one part of the body, flying through the air while moving at about thirty miles an hour!” WC waits for Archie to get to his feet before leaping off of the top turnbuckle, flipping forward as he extends both feet and knocks Griffon back down with a Shooting Star missile dropkick that sends him rolling over by the ropes! “Shooting Star missile dropkick!” shouts Hardy. “That’ll get your attention real quick!” Wildchild slaps his thigh to signal the Caribbean Cutter and walks over to Archie to pull him to his feet, but the big Hawkeye stuns him with a rake of the eyes, and then doubles him over with a kneelift to the midsection. “Griffon still has some fight left of his own,” says King, as Archie traps WC in a standing headscissors. “We could be looking at a powerbomb!” Griffon wraps his arms around Wildchild’s waist and lifts him up into a powerbomb… WHAM! … But the Human Hurricane wriggles out of his grasp, and drapes his leg of the back of Archie’s neck as he comes crashing down to the ring, driving Griffon face-first into the canvas with a Caribbean Cutter! RAAAAAAAAAAH! “Cutter!” exclaims Hardy. “Archie Griffon tries to powerbomb Wildchild, but… YOU CAN’T POWERBOMB WILDCHILD!” “I can’t believe he hit that!” shouts King, as WC rolls Griffon over to apply a cover. “He could get it here!” ONE! TWO! “Look at Jay!” cries Ben. THREE! But, just before Herrington’s hand can strike the mat a third time, he notices Griffon’s foot on the bottom rope, conveniently placed there by Jay Hawke! BOOOOOOOOOO! “Aw!” groans Hardy. “Jay Hawke just saved Archie Griffon! And listen to the fans here in the Cow Palace; they didn’t appreciate that!” Melissa runs around the ring and gets in Jay’s face, chastising him for interfering in the match. Jay takes a few steps back as she begins poking him in the chest, hesitant to strike a lady, when Wildchild reaches through the ropes to grab a hold of the Dean, pulling him forcefully onto the apron! YEAAAAAAAAAAH! “Obviously, Wildchild’s had enough of Jay Hawke,” notes Hardy, “and considering the history between these two, you can hardly be surprised!” Wildchild draws back to blast Jay with a big right hand, but Archie stops him in his tracks, driving a running kneelift into the small of his back! “That’s what Wildchild gets for taking his mind off his opponent,” says King, as Griffon leads WC over to the corner. “I told you that he would be too worried about Jay Hawke to focus on this match!” Griffon traps WC in the corner and jams a shoulder into his midsection, before lifting him up onto the top turnbuckle. “And it looks like Archie Griffon is going to go for that Superplex!” says King. “If he hits this, Wildchild is going to be at his mercy!” Archie climbs onto the middle ropes and traps him in a front facelock. He lifts Wildchild up for a Superplex, but the Bahama Bomber hooks his foot on the top rope at the last possible second, causing Griffon to lose his balance as he falls backwards, landing awkwardly on his head, with Wildchild landing atop him! The impact stuns Archie momentarily as Wildchild hooks the leg, and Herrington drops down to make the count: ONE! TWO! THREE! Archie kicks out emphatically, but it’s a fraction of a second too late! DING! DING! DING! “That was a fast count!” roars King. Frustrated, Jay Hawke scrambles into the ring to get his hands on Wildchild, but the Bahama Bomber quickly rolls out of the ring, realizing that he’s outmanned. “Bouncin’ Back” begins to play again as seventeen thousand fans cheer in unison. “Here is your winner,” booms Funyon, “the Wildchild!” Herrington climbs out of the ring and raises Wildchild’s hand in victory as Melissa runs around the ring to congratulate her man. “Wildchild got lucky here tonight!” snaps King. “And that’s not all bad; sometimes it’s better to be lucky than good… but the next time Jay Hawke gets his hands on him, you can be sure that his luck is going to run out!” Jay Hawke glares daggers at Wildchild as he and Melissa retreat up the ramp… As we: FADE OUT

As some of you might know (and those who don't, prepare to laugh), I ams teh living with parents. My dad is a professor who teaches an uber-early class, which means he goes to bed early, and since the computer room is right next to his room (and since we have loud, creaky hardwood floors and a keyboard that isn't QuietkeyOMG), he requests (through threat of raised rent) that I be off by midnight. It is a rare day when shows are up before midnight, as you all know. Even rarer still when cards are up before midnight. I'm missing a few things, and there are secret meetings that need to take place for secret decisions of spooky evilness to be made, so chances are the show will be up tomorrow morning. I say "chances are" because, you know, I might get the stuff before midnight, in which case, Yay! I'll do my best to get what I can up on time, but if not, you have been advised. Regardless of when the show goes up, Storm will be on Saturday instead of Friday (to make up the day we lost by SD being late). We will then return to the regular schedule. We apologize for any inconvenience. But not sincerely.

lol, sorry Spike. Mountain Standard. This won't normally be a problem, as he teaches M/W/F. Usually this stuff goes up Monday night, when I can stay on as long as I damn well please. It's just the delay and all that forced this. And any PPV's I'm posting will suffer too, so chances are I won't be posting any PPV's.

One possible defense is that Locke had was in a hurry, since he had no real time frame from Sawyer. He needed to get the guns way the hell away from the bunker as fast as he could, so he might not have been watching as closely as normal. I do like the idea of Locke pulling the long con, though... I hope you're right.

I second the digging. We could definitely use someone with the mad photo skillz to whip up some PPV posters for us.

To make room for the Lethal Lottery, From the Fire will be pushed back by one-to-two shows. Once we get all of the scheduling exactly worked out, I'll edit the Dates thread.

Bollywood isn't very thorough in his research: The Doomtopia Wiki EDIT: Holy shit, it was deleted like four seconds after I posted it. CONSPIRACY~!

Goddamn, that was a great episode. I love that Charlie is now officially a son of a bitch, and Sawyer's speech to the rest of the survivors was gold. I didn't really know what to expect out of tonight's episode, but they took things in a direction I never would have guessed.

Actually, that's not a bad way to play it. Good call. I do believe this is the first season of 24 where Jack and Co. aren't looking to thwart an elaborate terrorist plot - that is to say, the bad guys are pretty much improvising at this point (unless there's a bigger thing going on we don't know about yet). I wonder how they'll keep it chugging along, then, if it's not going to follow the "Jack finds out enough of the conspiracy to set up the next episode, repeat" formula the other seasons did.

Decent, but I think I've had enough of this "Nintendo is the only company that makes good games" thing that's been going around. Luigi says "A day may come when we forsake great gameplay for bloodlust", and they show the Master Chief? My ass. Halo's single player campaign is ridiculously fun, and Halo 2's multiplayer simply has no equal. I've actually had people tell me "Halo isn't fun, Microsoft just tells you it's fun and you believe it!", which is quite possibly the stupidest thing I've ever heard, and it seemed like this movie might have come from such a camp.

Kinda blech. The Kim tease was nice, and Chloe'n'Edgar are always awesome, but the rest just felt a little too familiar - crazy woman killing important villain moments before said villain will do something to help us out (Alexis Drazon, Saunders), the "Listen to me, no listen to me!" Presidential advisor thing that's been going on in almost every season... ... although I'm now beginning to suspect that Mrs. Logan is dirty, and in it far more deeply than Walt (who didn't know - sort of a Jamie/Nina in reverse). It's entirely possible that she manipulated events to force her husband into giving her a seat at the table, even if only out of guilt. No proof, obviously, but I'm keeping my eye on her. I think she's pulling a power-play. I wonder if this Crazy Druggy Sister thing is going anywhere. I didn't expect the mugging, but I can't really see many interesting places for it to go from there.

1) Who are you, and what have you done this year? ---> I'm Chris Raynor. I signed on as Lockdown's booker early last year, and through divine intervention I have ascended to Majordomo/Grand Poobah of the SWF, though I'm pretty sure that's just figurative. 2) What do you think of CC and their work at this time? ---> I think Judge deserves a medal for coming up with so many good ideas (commercials, recap shows, etc), and for kicking me in the ass and getting me started on them. I sadly but honestly admit I would have probably succumbed to Lazy Overlord Syndrome had Judge and Z not been here to back me up. 3) What do you think this fed's strongest suit is? ---> Our willingness to try new things. This mainly extends to the more recent House Rules matches, but really, I love the fact that most of the writers here are not only willing to put up with new (sometimes good, sometimes bad) ideas, but they're willing and able to pitch their own (usually much better than mine) ideas, and put them into effect. 4) What do you think this fed's weakest suit is? ---> The Tag Division, at the moment, but of course that has ups and downs just like the other divisions. Once it gets heated back up, the Cruiser division will disappear, then when that comes back, the Hardcore division will disappear. It's just a nasty trend, and it might account for some of the huge title reigns - every now and then, a champion will just run out of contenders. We do what we can to fix that, but it's always going to be happening with one title or another. 5) Do you have any suggestions for changes in how things are run? ---> I think we need some vending machines in the CC room. And a lock on the door, to keep the riffraff out. 6) Overall, do you like the direction the fed is headed in? ---> I do. We hit a rough patch of low-roster-ness a while ago (also something we go through in cycles), but we've come out of it with a healthy list of active writers, some old, some new. Storylines are running well, we've got some great talent backing the titles... I think we're doing just fine. EDIT: To quickly address Akira and Pete's mentions of late shows. Evil, to be sure, but I think it's a necessary one. I may just be too nice a guy, but I'm always willing to give extensions to anyone who asks, provided they're not asking for an extra day or anything. I'd rather the card be late than start enforcing SUPER-STRICT DEADLINES OF NO RETURN. Plus, considering how flaky the boards have been lately, I don't want to risk putting my foot down only to get a lot of "I couldn't send my match on time, the boards were down!" kind of things happening. We try, and on the rarest of occasions we succeed in getting things up on time, but mostly I think day-late shows and cards are the price we pay for our more relaxed atmosphere.

The fake flame war was awesome. I bought it hook, line, and sinker, and when they revealed it was fake, I was just about ready to kill them.

1. Michael Cross wrote an excellent debut match. Read, and be thankful for newbies! 2. BlanKira was a victim of the faulty PM system last night - as soon as I get it, it shall be edited in. My apologies for the delay. 3. Wes wins~! I concur with Dub-Cee's statement that Wes v. Mags is MotY material. 4. You people have no idea how close Zyon came to taking the 'Fuck. I mean, really damn close. It was a very tough call. Post your match, Zyon. Pretty please.

The Smartmark's Wrestling Federation Presents... SWF AftershoX! LIVE, FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 3rd, FROM THE SOLD OUT COW PALACE IN SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA! (7:00pm PST, 10:00pm EST; check local listings) After an amazing PPV, the SWF takes a week to cool down and regroup. This week, SWF AftershoX comes to you live from the Cow Palace - we'll recap the events of the Clusterfuck! We'll hear from some of the winners and losers! And we'll have a couple of matches, too! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The Main Event - Hardcore Match Insane Luchadore vs. The Crimson Skull ---> Oh yeah. You read that right. Insane f'ing Luchadore is back! Was his death elaborately staged, or did he no-sell the whole thing? Either way, he's returned to the SWF with a newfound interest in the Ultraviolent Division! That could be bad news for The Crimson Skull! Or, it could be great news for The Crimson Skull! What better way to get peoples attention that to take down a man who no-sold his own death? Rules: Hardcore~! Word Limit: 4500 Send to: realitycheck -=-=-=- Candace 'The Joshi Dragon' Okimura vs. Matt 'The Scarlet Pimpernel' Myers ---> Well, Candace has been jockeying for more screen time, so it's time to give it to her. Start up to a new path of glory, eh? Well, the first step on King's (Or would it be Queen's?) Road is Matt 'The Scarlet Pimpernel' Myers, who is looking to make a comeback from his showing at the Clusterf**k. Will she regain her honor, or be wooed by this masked man?! Rules: Standard Singles Match Word Limit: 4250 Send to: Justice -=-=-=-=- Michael Cross vs. "The Rage" Jason von Dierch ---> After an impressive debut at the Clusterfuck, Michael Cross makes his first appearance on SWF TV! Tonight, he faces a man who came up short in the Clusterfuck, and is itching for a chance to make up for it, Jason von Dierch! ROLLING ROMMELS! Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 4000 Send to: chirs3 -=-=-=-=- Opening Promo: MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGS! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- (Send shit to realitycheck) When I said it'd be a light card, I wasn't kidding. Promo, people! We will resume regular duty next show. Good job on the PPV.

I got all of Season 1 from mininova.org (bittorrent). I imagine they'll have Season 2 as well.

THHHHHHHHRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEE!! Johnson finally gets his shoulders off of the mat, but he’s a half second too late! The stunned crowd is almost instantly silenced as the ref jumps to his feet and signals for the bell! DING DING DING “Your winner, by pinfall, and STILL, SWF World Heavyweight Champion...” Funyon bellows. “EL LUCHADOOOOOOOOOOORRE MAGNIFICOOOOOOOOOO!!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!” Magnifico immediately rolls away from Johnson and under the ropes closest to the ramp, stepping to the outside as a confused, infuriated JJ wonders what the hell just happened. Energized by pure, unadultered anger, Johnson jumps to his feet and grabs the referee by the shirt, demanding to know how Magnifico garnered a pinfall just now. “Yes! YES!” King jumps out of his seat and pumps his fist into the air. “Don’t you EVER count Magnifico out! He’ll NEVER give up!” “I...I’m not even sure what just happened.” A thunderstruck Pete confesses. “One second Magnifico was suffering under the Wing Span, the next, he’s pinned Johnson and won the match!” “I guess I’ll explain it to you, then.” King offers, more than happy to do so. “Magnifico was able to press Johnson against the canvas by lifting himself off of the mat and then arching his body back and to the side, pushing JJ down to the mat. It would have been hard enough for Johnson to untangle himself before the three count, but by grabbing JJ’s legs and holding them together, ELM significantly reduced Johnson’s ability to kick out.” “By the time he had freed his legs, it was too late.” King smugly states. “And may I just say, this a perfectly fitting ending to this match. Johnson admittedly had Magnifico in a dangerous position. But not only was ELM able to escape the Wing Span, one of the deadliest submissions in the federation, he was able to reverse it into a pin and win the match right then and there.” The terrified referee tries his best to explain what happened, gesticulating wildly and trembling beneath JJ’s grip as he does so. Having heard enough, Johnson throws the ref to the canvas and charges towards the side of the ring Magnifico just exited through. His hands clenching the top rope, Johnson practically screams at the referee, insisting that he get back into the ring. Halfway up the ramp, ELM pauses and turns towards the ring, his eyes meeting JJ’s. Magnifico’s expressionlessly stares at Johnson for a few seconds...until a cheerful grin slowly creeps across his face. ELM turns on his heel and continues up the ramp, causing an absoultely furious JJ to curse loudly and violently strike a nearby turnbuckle. “Johnson is absolutely incensed, and I can’t blame him.” Pete grimly assesses. “He had done everything right in this match; he was able to escape every attempt Magnifico made at a pinfall or submission, and was mere moments away from making ELM submit and winning the World Championship.” “Do I have to spell this out for you?” King asks, exasperated. “Magnifico isn’t where he is because he’s stronger or quicker than everyone else. I’ll be the first to admit that. ELM has been such a fantastic World Champion because, frankly, he’s more clever than anyone else in this federation. And he’ll be the World Champion until someone can outsmart Magnifico as well as outfight him.” Pete doesn’t say a word. He’s as nearly depressed and shocked as the live audience, who can only watch in silence as Magnifico makes his way towards the back, leaving JJ behind him. Johnson can only watch as ELM disappears behind the curtain, a wide, exuberant grin on his face... FADE OUT SWF Clusterfuck - 1/30/06 Rule of Law / Raynmaker / Whatever Z's Tagline Is Productions © 2006 The SWF: “Raising Workrate by Typing Faster"

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SWF FROST Pre-PPV Extravaganza Blowout Extreme to the MAX! A newcomer to the SWF makes his debut! Singles Match Michael Cross vs. Ced Ordonez ---> SWF Rookie Michael Cross picked a good time to come to the SWF - his very first match will be on the Clusterfuck's pre-game show, Frost! On this grand stage, Cross goes one on one with the Bemani Freak himself, Ced Ordonez! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The energy in the air is palpable as SWF Clusterfuck returns from its final break of the evening, the Pay-Per-View’s official theme song playing in the background as the inside of the Staples Center fades into view, packed to its brim with over twenty thousand very happy wrestling fans. The Clusterfuck itself came to an end mere minutes ago, the epic match leaving behind an air of unmistakable wonder and excitement, as each man, woman, and child within the building reflects on the contest and the unbelievable way in which it ended. Fortunately, they haven’t forgotten that there’s still a Main Event to take in, as the hopped-up fans eagerly discuss the final match of the evening while anxiously waiting for it to start. In the meantime, the camera focuses in on the dynamic announcing team of Longdogger Pete and the Suicide King, sitting behind their announce desk, seemingly jumping at the bit to continue calling this event. “Welcome back to SWF Clusterfuck, ladies and gentlemen!” LDP enthusiastically bellows. “This has always been known as one of the finest Pay-Per-Views the SWF has to offer, and this year has been no different! Clusterfuck is - ” “The event where we make tremendous use of the lack of Pay-Per-View censorship!” King cheerfully interrupts. “Well, sure.” Pete concedes. “But it’s also our yearly signature Battle Royale, in which dozens of SWF Superstars battle it out at once for a shot at the SWF World Heavyweight Title! The Clusterfuck has produced some of the finest matches in the SWF’s history and has marked the careers of such legends as Pimp Daddy Sarp and “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens!” “Yeah, yeah, that’s all well and good.” King dismissively replies. “But you’re forgetting about the rest of the great stuff we’ve seen here tonight. In the finale to their Best of Five series and one of the most gut-wrenching matches in years, Bruce Blank defended his Hardcore Title against Akira Kaibatsu in a deliciously devastating Japanese Death Match!” “Which was followed by something a little more traditional.” Pete expands. “Jay Hawke, arguably the greatest International Champion to ever hold the belt, put his title on the line against the Wildchild!” “And now, we have for you something that’ll outshine even the Clusterfuck.” King boldly promises. “You lucky viewers at home will partake of a fantastic Main Event, in which SWF World Heavyweight Champion El Luchadore Magnifico will bravely and successfully defend his title against certified psychopath JJ Johnson!” “We’ve been over this, King.” Pete sharply counters. “It’s not like Magnifico was simply minding his own business each time Johnson attacked him. ELM did something to spur him on in each occasion.” “What?” King remarks, incredulous. “Name me one time Magnifico incited any violence between the two.” “Well, there was the occasion where he cost JJ Johnson the Cruiserweight Title.” Pete thoughtfully replies. “If I remember correctly, JJ beat the piss out of ELM before slicing up his forehead with Magnifico’s own Mexican Flag.” “Complete overreaction.” King firmly states. “And there was the time ELM hired TKO as his personal bodyguards, preventing Johnson from coming anywhere near him.” LDP continues. “I believe that ended with Johnson attacking TKO and injuring KOJI.” “That was really uncalled for.” King insists. “And of course, there was the time that Magnifico weaseled his way into becoming the referee for a match between JJ Johnson and TORU.” Pete wistfully remembers. “Not only did JJ win that match, but TORU dramatically quit his job as ELM’s bodyguard shortly afterwards.” “I still can’t believe how sore a loser TORU turned out to be.” King comments. “And after all that, you can honestly sit there and tell me that Magnifico’s done nothing to earn JJ’s scorn?” Pete questions. “Hmm. Yes.” King affirms. Pete sighs loudly. “Well, ladies and gentlemen, you can see that these two men have some history leading up to this event.” LDP states the obvious. “JJ’s been anxiously awaiting this shot since winning the Cold Front Classic at Ramadomination. Magnifico, meanwhile, has done all he could to avoid conflict with Johnson - ” “Mainly because JJ is a violent, unpredictable individual who’s uncontrollable outside the constricts of a ring.” King suddenly interrupts. “ELM has no fear of JJ Johnson. He’s been looking forward to this match just as much as JJ has, because tonight is the night when he’ll finally shut up the people who still doubt his legendary talent.” “For his sake, I hope you’re right.” Pete cryptically states. “In any case, it looks like we’re ready to go here, so let’s hand things over to the one and only Funyon!” The camera suddenly cuts to Funyon, who stands proudly in the middle of the ring, bedecked in his trusty tuxedo. Surrounded by tens of thousands of fans who hang on his every word, Funyon slowly brings the microphone to his lips and addresses the crowd in his pleasing baritone. “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is this evening’s Main Event, and it is for the SWF World Heavyweight Title!” “RAHHHHHHHHHHH!!” A moment later, the arena’s lights are suddenly cut out, and then… "HE HAS NOT CONFESSED, HE HAS MADE NO STATEMENT, CHARGES OF MURDER HAVE BEEN ACCEPTED AGAINST HIM." “RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!” Unable to contain themselves any longer, the fans roar with excitement as Fear Factory’s “Scapegoat” hits the speakers and red and white lights flash from the stage, signaling the entrance of one JJ Johnson! The Smarktron kicks into life, showing various highlights from JJ Johnson's matches, as the lights continue to flash on the notes, alternating red and white with each tone that emanates from the sound system. The drums kick in, and the house lights fade in, only slightly, bathing the arena in an eerie blood red light as smoke begins to billow from the stage... RRRRRRRRRRAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!! ...before Burton C. Bell's throaty growl comes tearing out of the speakers, and with it comes JJ Johnson, his already somewhat intimidating look accented by the flashing lights. The crowd somehow manages to grow even louder as JJ strides down the ramp, his eyes locked on the ring before him. “Introducing first, from Windsor, Ontario, Canada, weighing in at two hundred and nineteen pounds…” Funyon begins. “JAY JAY JOOOOOOOOOOHNNSSSSSOOOONNNN!!” Johnson reaches the ring, rolls beneath the bottom rope, and then pops to his feet, before quickly climbing onto the second turnbuckle of the corner nearest him. Slowly, deliberately, JJ looks out over the gigantic, overexcited mass of people...before throwing his arms out wide, his body bathed in flashbulb light as thousands of people take pictures of Johnson’s dramatic pose. JJ lowers his arms and takes one last long look over the crowd before stepping off of the turnbuckle and onto the canvas. “It’s almost hard to imagine that JJ Johnson was a heel not too long ago.” Pete thoughtfully comments. “To loosely quote Toxxic, he’s simply up against someone they hate more than him.” “Which shows you just how insufferable our audience is.” King spits. “Magnifico’s been our finest performer in these past few months. He’s provided stability at the top of the card while putting on terrific matches night after night. What more do they want from him?” “Probably to just not be a complete asshole.” Pete speculates, earning himself a nasty glare from his commentary partner. JJ removes his jacket, hands it to the ref, and retires to a corner furthest from the entrance ramp. Johnson stands in front of the corner and begins to stretch out every part of his body, his eyes locked intently on the entrance ramp. In those eyes, one can see a clear sense of anxiousness, an unmistakable, burning enthusiasm. Johnson’s been waiting for this day for a long time, and he’s determined to make the best of this insanely rare opportunity. It’s just then that the lights are cut out throughout the arena and... “HEY HEY!” *BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMM* “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!” Johnson’s focus immediately comes to a point when Atake FDD’s “Tu Final” hits the speakers, the Mexican hip-hop blasting over the arena’s speakers as red, white, and green pyro explodes upwards from the stage. A moment later, illuminated by a single spotlight, Magnifico bursts through the pyro-induced smoke, his Mexican Flag flapping gracefully behind him and the World Heavyweight Title wrapped around his waist. “And now, from Mexico City, Mexico, weighing in at two hundred and ten pounds...” Funyon begins. “He is the SWF World Heavyweight Champion...EL LUCHADOOOOOOOORRE MAGNIFICOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”: ELM completely ignores the tens of thousands of people loudly directing their hate towards him, instead focusing his attention entirely on JJ Johnson. Their eyes meet from across the arena as Magnifico swiftly approaches the ring. ELM finally breaks his gaze as he slides into the ring, climbs to his feet, and steps into the middle of the squared circle. With Johnson glaring holes into him from behind, Magnifico looks out over the capacity crowd, a disgusted scowl on his face ...before thrusting his Mexican flag high into the air, doing so as the lights are suddenly turned back on throughout the arena. The now-illuminated crowd continues their spirited booing of the luchadore as he casually unwraps the World Title from around his waist, before handing it and his Mexican flag to the referee. Magnifico finally returns his attention to JJ, who hasn’t moved a muscle since ELM made his appearance. While beginning his stretching routine, the luchadore stares coldly at JJ, an infuriating grin slowly creeping across his face as he does so. On the other side of the ring, Johnson struggles to maintain his composure for just a few moments longer, silently urging the referee to signal for the damn bell already. “Look at that!” King cries. “Completely fearless in the face of adversity! I defy you to tell me that Magnifico feels even a twinge of fear at this moment.” “He’s hiding it fairly well, but I seriously doubt that ELM isn’t even a touch nervous.” Pete replies. “After all, Johnson has gotten over on Magnifico on more than one occasion in the past few weeks.” “Those were all instances in which JJ simply took advantage of an unfair situation.” King patiently explains. “I’ll remind you that Magnifico and Johnson have never competed in a straight-up singles match, which is the only situation that counts in the slightest, and the situation in which ELM has an insurmountable, vague advantage.” With everything in order, the ref finally looks as though he’s ready to get this match started. He looks between the two competitors for a moment...and then turns and signals for the bell, much to the delight of live audience. DING DING DING Immediately after the first strike of the bell, Johnson suddenly breaks into a sprint and charges across the ring, bearing down on Magnifico with blinding speed! ELM is caught off guard but still manages to barely sidestep the charging former Ultimate Fighter. Johnson skids to a halt and immediately spins to face Magnifico, only to immediately eat a quick to jab to the face for his trouble. Not wanting to give JJ even the slighest chance to attack, ELM quickly pummels away at Johnson’s chin and face, backing him into the corner with a series of nimble jabs. After landing about a dozen blows, Magnifico grabs Johnson by the arm and attempts to whip him across the ring, only to have JJ reverse it and send ELM rushing towards the far corner. Johnson takes off after Magnifico immediately following the whip, trailing only a couple steps behind the luchadore. ELM turns and crashes back-first against the corner’s turnbuckles, the shock to his back quickly followed up by an even more violent one from the front as a charging JJ throws his knee deep into Magnifico’s gut! “Johnson quickly takes control of the match, as he sends Magnifico into the corner before smashing his stomach in with a running Knee Strike!” Pete excitedly reports. Doubled over with a hand on his stomach, ELM slowly stumbles out of the corner, gasping for breath as he does so. Johnson takes a few steps backwards so that Magnifico is staggering towards him, putting JJ in a fine position to pull ELM into a Front Facelock. Johnson does just that before grabbing Magnifico by the waist of his tights and pulling him into the air, seemingly looking to spike ELM into the mat with a Brainbuster! However, Magnifico manages to twist out of Johnson’s grip in mid-air, landing on his feet behind JJ and facing the same direction as him! The second Magnifico’s feet hit the ground, he wraps his arms around Johnson’s waist, trapping him in a Rear Waistlock. ELM then charges towards the corner directly in front of him, pushing Johnson in front of him like a living battering ram! Magnifico then uses his grip to pull the stunned JJ backwards and down to the mat with a Reverse Rollup! “Beautifully done!” King cries. “Johnson gets greedy with his attempt at a Brainbuster, and Magnifico makes him pay for it in spades! I wouldn’t be surprised if Johnson, inconsolable due to the reversal, were to simply give up right here and now.” ELM ends up sitting on Johnson’s legs, putting as much weight as possible on them as he holds JJ down to the mat. Johnson struggles wildly to escape as the ref slides into position and begins counting... ONE! TWO! No! Johnson suddenly shoots his legs out, flipping ELM forward with the force of the kick! Magnifico lands hard on the back of his shoulders, but has little time to concentrate on that as Johnson, his legs already pressed down on ELM’s shoulders, reaches above him and pulls back on both his legs! Magnifico’s surprised and annoyed at the reversal, but at the moment is forced to concentrate on escaping the pin, as the ref is already on his knees and beginning the count! ONE! TWO! No! Magnifico grabs Johnson by the legs and wraps his own legs around JJ’s neck, then pulls him down to the mat while sitting up, reversing Johnson’s pin into another one of his own! Irritated at the constant interruptions, the frustrated referee restarts his count once more... ONE! TWO! No! Johnson simply breaks free of the pin this time, scrambling to his feet as ELM rolls backwards and jumps to his. Upon reaching his feet, Johnson promptly turns towards Magnifico and... CHOP! *SMAAAAACK* “WHOOOOOOOOOO!!” ...only to immediately be blasted in the chest with a stinging Knife-Edge Chop! The fans “whoo” in a Pavlovian fashion as Johnson backs up a few steps, gasping for breath. “Magnifico comes out on top in the duel of Rollups, and celebrates his victory by slicing open Johnson’s delicate, sunken chest with a gorgeous Knife-Edge Chop!” King gushes mindlessly. “I suppose that’s one way of putting it.” Pete begrudgingly admits. “Magnifico’s doing fairly well at the moment, especially considering how strong JJ looked at the beginning of this contest.” Immediately after landing the Chop, Magnifico grabs Johnson by the arm and whips him across the ring, sending him rushing towards the far ropes. JJ bounces off of said ropes and charges back towards ELM, who greets his opponent by leaping into the air and extending his legs, looking to wrap them around Johnson’s head for a Hurricanrana! However, JJ deftly ducks beneath said legs and continues running, bouncing off of the ropes behind Magnifico as the luchadore is landing on the mat. Johnson comes off of the ropes and charges at ELM from behind, lashing out with his arm as he does so, aiming it at the back of Magnifico’s neck for a Shotgun Lariat! However, ELM manages to dodge beneath Johnson’s arm, the forearm just grazing the scalp of the ducking luchadore. His teeth gritted in frustration, Johnson skids to a halt and spins to face the luchadore, just in time to see Magnifico leap into the air and kick his feet out! ELM slams said feet right into Johnson’s face, knocking him to the mat with a textbook Flipping Dropkick! ELM pops back to his feet immediately after landing the Dropkick, more than ready for Johnson as he scrambles back to his. The second JJ stands, Magnifico throws his knee right into Johnson’s gut, doubling him over in the center of the ring. Magnifico then drives his kneecap right into the bridge of Johnson’s nose with a cringe-inducing Knee Strike, immediately straightening JJ up and sending him stumbling backwards into the corner behind him as the annoyed crowd loudly expresses their displeasure with the luchadore. “Johnson attempts a devious, underhanded attack from behind, only for Magnifico to righteously dodge it and take JJ down with his deadly signature Dropkick!” King reports. “It appears as though Johnson might be letting his emotions get the best of him early on.” Pete speculates, completely ignoring King’s incomprehensible rambling. “Although I’m sure ELM would be in trouble should JJ get a hold of him, it looks as though Magnifico is able to easily counter Johnson’s attacks while he’s in this state.” JJ falls against the corner’s turnbuckles, a hand on his possibly-broken nose as Magnifico steps in front of arm, his arm cocked back as far as it can go. ELM then suddenly drives the arm forward, slicing it into Johnson’s chest with a Knife Edge Chop! *SMAAAAAACK* “WHOOOOOOOOOO!!” Magnifico grins to himself as Johnson’s chest glows a bright red, pain now emanating strongly from two points on his body. ELM draws his arm back once more, drives it forward, and... ...miss! Johnson pushes himself out of the corner and ducks beneath Magnifico’s arm, drawing an enthusiastic pop from the surprised audience. ELM’s momentum carries him forward a step, allowing JJ to quickly and easily get behind him. A scowling Magnifico spins to face Johnson, turning around as JJ is almost completely through the spin of his Rolling Elbow! ELM has just enough time to widen his eyes as lashes out with his arm, slamming his elbow right into the luchadore’s chin! Magnifico is knocked backwards and into the the corner behind him by the force of the blow, drunkenly leaning against it as the crowd roars its approval. Not wasting a moment, JJ immediately steps up and drives his arm forward, slamming it into ELM's chest with untold force! *SMAAAAAAAAACK* "WHOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" Magnifico gasps for breath and immediately doubles over, in shock at just how painful Johnson's Chops actually are. He doesn't have a lot of time to reflect on that, though, as JJ suddenly pops him in the chin and knocks him back into the corner, right before slicing into his chest once more with a second Knife-Edge Chop! *SMAAAAAAAAAACK* "WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" "Shades of Magnifico versus Danny Williams here, as Johnson shows ELM what a real chop feels like." Pete comments, amused. "Very funny. You'll do well to remember that the result of that match was a glorious Magnifico victory." An annoyed King counters. ELM is justifiably stunned by the pair of Chops, which allows Johnson to easily grab Magnifico by the arm, pull him out of the corner, and whip him across the ring. Magnifico rushes across the canvas and crashes into the far corner back-first, the entire ring shaking as his body strikes the turnbuckles. ELM woozily stumbles out of the corner, just as JJ explodes out of the corner on the opposite side of the ring, bearing down on the luchadore at terrifying speed! But as Johnson approaches, Magnifico suddenly steps to the side, wrapping his feet around JJ's ankles as he does so! Before Johnson even realizes it, he's been tripped up by a Drop Toe Hold, his forehead on a collision course with the second turnbuckle! JJ's forehead slams into said turnbuckle, drawing a sympathetic wince from the capacity crowd as he falls to the mat, cradling his head in his hands. "And once again, we see the ill-advised, violent attacks of JJ Johnson countered by the smooth, fluid movements of El Luchadore Magnifico." King eloquently states. "I realize that Johnson isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, but you'd think that he'd eventually catch on to the futility of his offense." Magnifico pops back to his feet and grabs Johnson by the legs, then uses his grip to drag JJ into the center of the ring. ELM then delivers a few stomps to Johnson's shoulders and back, only to abruptly stop when he sees JJ start to push himself to his feet through the kicks. Magnifico suddenly turns and makes a break for the ropes behind him, bouncing off of them as JJ reaches his hands and knees. Magnifico then runs back towards JJ and hops into the air, kicking his feet out just as Johnson looks up! ELM slams said feet directly into JJ's face with a Running Dropkick, immediately knocking him back to the canvas as the agitated crowd releases a wave of spirited boos. Magnifico quickly scrambles onto Johnson and makes the cover, hooking his leg as the ref slides into position and begins counting... ONE! TWO! No! Johnson kicks out right after two, quickly putting an end to the audience's booing. Undeterred, Magnifico grabs JJ by the arm and quickly stands up, pulling Johnson to his feet as he does so. ELM then uses his grip to whip Johnson across the ring and towards the far ropes, which JJ bounces off of...before hooking his arms around the top rope, immediately halting his forward progress! Annoyed, Magnifico charges at JJ, who ducks down, grabs him by the leg, and then stands up, tossing ELM up and over the top rope behind him with a Backdrop! However, Magnifico manages to grab the top rope in mid-air and uses his grip to pull himself onto the apron! Somewhat confused by the lack of a "splat" sound, Johnson turns around...and is immediately grabbed around the neck by Magnifico! ELM then hops backwards off of the apron, pulling JJ down with him and driving his neck into the top rope with a Guillotine! Johnson springs backwards off of the ropes and falls to the canvas, his hands on his throat and his lungs gasping for air as an amused Magnifico looks on from the outside. "Very well done! Bravo!" King cries. "It almost looked as though ELM would fall prey to Johnson's trickery, but that thankfully wasn't the case." "Hooking the top rope with your arms is trickery now?" Pete asks before he can think better of it. "Absolutely!" King practically shouts. "The basics of the Irish Whip are as follows; you whip the guy, he bounces off of the ropes and comes back at you. That's it. Messing with any step of that process is defying the very laws of wrestling nature." Paying no mind to the hundreds of fans behind him loudly and violently cursing him out, Magnifico rolls back into the ring, popping to his feet inside the square circle as Johnson turns onto his stomach and begins climbing to his. ELM grabs him by the hair and generously pulls him the rest of the way, then throws the tip of his boot deep into Johnson's gut, doubling him over in the center of the ring. With JJ temporarily stunned, ELM is able to hook both of his arms and quickly set him up for the Cancun Crunch! The live audience immediately begins to boo in anticipation, and only grow louder when Magnifico begins lifting JJ into the air for the Double Underhook Brainbuster! However, JJ begins to kick and struggle wildly in mid-air, preventing Magnifico from lifting Johnson past a point parallel to the mat! Frustrated, ELM tries once more...only to this time find Johnson's leg wrapped around his own! Before ELM can deal with this latest problem, JJ suddenly breaks one of his arms free and begins to pound away at Magnifico's stomach, repeatedly slamming his fist into his exposed gut! His arm still wrapped around Magnifico's, JJ then swiftly and unexpectedly takes him down to the mat, never relinquishing his grip on the arm as he sits on ELM's shoulder and pulls back hard, locking him into an Armbar to the delight of the live audience! Still somewhat stunned from the blows to his stomach, all Magnifico can manages is a weak cry of pain as JJ tears his shoulder apart with the submission! "Magnifico went for the Cancun Crunch, but JJ managed to counter it twice before reversing it into an Armbar!" Pete excitedly reports. "Nicely executed by Johnson, as the reversal seemed to take Magnifico completely by surprise!" "Bah. Complete and utter nonsense." King stubbornly counters. "It's a well-known fact that Magnifico is always keenly aware of what is going on at any given time during a match. He was simply a little overambitious going for the Cancun Crunch this early, and JJ, being the glorified thug that he is, managed to power out of it and into the most boring of all submissions, the Armbar." The referee drops to the mat and gets in Magnifico's face, asking him if he wants to submit. Through gritted teeth, the luchadore insists that he does not, which only spurs Johnson to pull back even further on Magnifico's trapped arm. After a few moments, Johnson seems to realize that he's unlikely to get a submission in this fashion, as he gets off of ELM, still holding his arm as he stands up. Magnifico begins to push himself to his feet when Johnson suddenly hops into the air, his knees jutted out beneath him! JJ slams both kneecaps into ELM's shoulder as he falls, drawing an enthusiastic pop from the live audience as Magnifico clutches his shoulder and writhes in pain on the canvas. Moving quickly, Johnson floats onto Magnifico and makes the cover, hooking his leg and putting extra pressure on ELM's shoulder as the ref slides into position and begins counting... ONE! TWO! No! Magnifico gets his other shoulder up at two and a half, quickly quieting the excited crowd. "This could be really bad for Magnifico." Pete reports, barely able to hide his joy. "JJ seems focused on a body part, specifically the shoulder. Since he possesses a variety of moves that can hyper-extend and put pressure on the shoulder, ELM should be careful to not let Johnson wear his shoulder down any further." Undeterred, Johnson rolls off of Magnifico, grabs him by the arm, and pulls him to his feet, before using his grip to whip ELM towards the far ropes. Magnifico comes off of the ropes and charges back towards JJ, and as he approaches, Johnson suddenly spins behind the luchadore, hooking his arm as he does so! Johnson tucks Magnifico's arm in his armpit and then reaches for the luchadore's neck, apparently looking to lock him into the Buffalo Sleeper! But before he can get his arm around ELM's neck, the luchadore suddenly throws his free arm backwards, slamming the elbow into the side of JJ's head! JJ is stunned somewhat by the unexpected blow, which allows Magnifico to jerk his arm free and spin behind Johnson! As he spins, ELM wraps his arm around Johnson's neck, quickly and fluidly trapping Johnson in a Inverted Facelock! Wasting no time, Magnifico immediately kicks his feet out and falls onto his stomach, pulling JJ down with him and slamming the back of his head into the canvas with a Reverse DDT! The capacity crowd winces as one before angrily booing the luchadore, only growing louder when Magnifico floats onto JJ and makes the cover. With JJ cradling his head, ELM reaches over and hooks the leg, doing so as the ref slides into position and begins counting. ONE! TWO! No! JJ gets a shoulder up at two and a half, drawing a few cheers from the relieved crowd. “Oh yeah, Magnifico should be terrified of JJ working over his arm.” King laughs. “As was just displayed, ELM will easily counter any further attempts to damage his shoulder, so Johnson would be wise to adopt a different plan of attack or, preferably, give up.” Magnifico rolls off of JJ, grabs him by the arm, and stands up, pulling Johnson to his feet as he does so. ELM then uses his grip to whip JJ across the ring, sending him rushing towards the ropes on the other side of the ring. Johnson bounces off of said ropes and charges towards Magnifico, who sidesteps towards JJ and throws his foot into the air, aiming it right at Johnson’s head with a Superkick! However, Johnson hits the ground and rolls beneath Magnifico’s extended foot, popping to his feet behind the luchadore! Before ELM can even begin to turn around, JJ spins around and wraps one arm around Magnifico’s waist, using the other one to grab and hook ELM’s leg! Johnson immediately hoists Magnifico into the air, ready to spike him into the mat with a Saito Suplex...but ELM manages to escape the hold in mid-air, flipping backwards out of it and landing on his feet behind JJ! Magnifico throws his knee forward immediately upon landing on his feet, slamming it right into the small of Johnson’s back! JJ mouth opens wide in pain in shock as he arches his body backwards, barely even noticing when Magnifico pulls him into a Rear Waistlock and sticks his head beneath his armpit. ELM lifts JJ onto his shoulder and then suddenly spins his body around while sitting out, slamming Johnson’s back into the canvas with La Bomba Fantastica! JJ’s body bounces off of the canvas, but he’s immediately pushed back down to the mat, as Magnifico pushes his legs back and pins him to the canvas as boos pour in from every corner of the arena. Magnifico stares coldly at Johnson as if willing him to not kick out as the referee slides into position and begins counting... ONE! TWO! TH-No! Johnson gets a shoulder up at two and a half, quickly ending much of the crowd’s booing. “A terrific series of counters, as JJ reverses Magnifico’s Superkick into a Saito Suplex, only for ELM to reverse that into his signature Blue Thunder Powerbomb!” Pete furiously recaps. “It took a little longer than I’d have liked, but the end result was most pleasing.” King comments. “Although, I must give Johnson a small amount of begrudging respect for attempting a Teardrop Suplex. He can have good taste in Suplexes when he wants to, I suppose.” Disgusted at JJ for having the nerve to kick out, Magnifico unceremoniously throws Johnson’s legs off his shoulders and to the mat, before climbing back to his feet and leaving JJ alone on the canvas. ELM immediately makes a break for the nearby corner upon reaching his feet, beginning the ascent up its turnbuckles as Johnson begins to stir beneath him. Magnifico reaches the top rope fairly quickly, turning towards the ring as he does so. He sees JJ begin climbing to his feet, and decides to remain perched on the top turnbuckles for the moment, his hands clenching the top ropes and his eyes keenly focused on Johnson’s ascent. Still looking fairly dazed from the force of the Powerbomb, JJ slowly climbs to one knee...before suddenly turning and leaping at the luchadore, taking Magnifico completely by surprise! Before ELM has a chance to react, Johnson simultaneously strikes the inside of Magnifico’s legs, causing him to lose his balance and fall straight down on to the top turnbuckle! The luchadore’s eyes widen and a wordless cry of agony escapes his gaping mouth as the crowd roars its approval of the crotch shot. “What was the word you used before, King? Overambitious?” Pete playfully questions, as King angrily crosses his arms and looks away. “Magnifico seemed confident that Johnson would be stunned after being bit by La Bomba Fantastica, but he quickly and painfully learned otherwise when JJ surprised him and caused him to lose his footing on the top rope.” With Magnifico distracted by the intense amount of pain emanating from his groin, JJ is able to freely grab ELM by the arm that houses the damaged shoulder. Johnson grips Magnifico by the elbow and under the arm...and then twists his body and jerks ELM off of the top turnbuckle! JJ then falls onto his stomach while slamming Magnifico shoulder-first into the canvas, the impressed fans cheering for the Dragon Arm Screw as the luchadore grabs at his shoulder and cries out in pain. Johnson rolls on top of Magnifico immediately after he hits the mat, putting extra pressure on the luchadore’s shoulder as he makes the cover. The crowd’s enthusiasm grows while JJ reaches over and hooks the leg, doing so as the ref slides into position and begins counting... ONE! TWO! TH-No! Magnifico gets a shoulder up at two and a half, sobering most of the live audience as he does so. Pain surges through ELM’s shoulder as he kicks out, as he’s violently reminded of the damage Johnson’s incurred on that particular body part throughout the match. “Johnson’s kidding himself if he thinks this is the appropriate course of action to defeat Magnifico.” King scoffs. “I’ll remind the viewers at home that Magnifico has only tapped out once since his return, and that wasn’t even during a singles match. If JJ can figure out a way to make ELM submit, which he definitely won’t, I’ll be amazed.” Johnson rolls off of Magnifico and quickly climbs to his feet, a expression of subtle but clear frustration on his face as he does so. JJ stands and immediately reaches down, grabbing ELM between the legs and under the arm. Johnson uses that grip to pull Magnifico off of the mat and right into the air, taking ELM and much of the live audience by surprise! JJ twists Magnifico’s body around in mid-air, falls to one knee, and then drives ELM towards the mat, slamming Magnifico’s damaged shoulder into his knee with a cringe-inducing Shoulderbreaker! Magnifico cries out in pain and unceremoniously falls onto the canvas, tightly gripping his shoulder as he writhes in agony on the mat. JJ reaches for the luchadore, but Magnifico seems to have had enough of Johnson for right now, as he rolls towards and beneath the nearby ropes to escape to the outside. “Magnifico apparently needs a quick break from the action.” An amused LDP notes. “He appears to be in severe pain, and could be hard-pressed to continue without a short respite.” ELM steps onto the floor and stumbles away from the ring, the curse-laced Spanglish spewing from his mouth drowned out by the booing of the hundreds of surrounding fans. A visibly annoyed JJ looks out at Magnifico for a second before suddenly turning around and making a break for the ropes behind him, drawing an anticipatory pop from the live audience. Johnson bounces off of said ropes and sprints across the ring, charging towards Magnifico at top speed! Somewhat concerned by the crowd’s cheering, ELM turns towards the ring...just in time to see Johnson execute a gorgeous, hands-free leap over the top rope! JJ twists and flips his body in mid-air, wowing the already-delighted crowd as his entire form crashes into Magnifico’s chest with a Corkscrew Pescado! The fans cheer louder than they have the entire match as ELM is violently knocked to the ground, followed a second later by JJ Johnson, who tumbles to the floor right after him. JJ takes a moment’s rest before beginning the climb back to his feet, as the ref, from inside the ring, begins to count both men out. ONE! “Absolutely breathtaking Corkscrew Pescado from JJ Johnson!” Pete cries. “Most people don’t associate such acrobatics with JJ, but he’s more than capable of executing the occasional dazzling dive to the outside every now and then.” “I can’t believe you can sit there and talk like that with a straight face.” King snaps. “It’s meaningless flip flopping like that that’s watering down this great quasi-sport of ours. JJ should be ashamed of himself for shamelessly using such selfish, flashy offense.” JJ gets back to his feet fairly quickly, taking a second to shake off the impact of the fall before heading over to Magnifico, who’s barely moved a muscle since hitting the ground. As the fans in front row cheer him on, JJ reaches down and grabs Magnifico by the arm, before using his grip to slowly pull the dazed luchadore to his feet. Once ELM is standing, Johnson whips him, sending the luchadore rushing across the floor and towards the far guardrail. TWO! As Magnifico approaches the rail and crashes into it back-first, spurring him to arch his entire body as a jolt of pain runs up his spine. Distracted by said pain, ELM doesn’t seem to notice JJ breaking into a run on the other side of the floor, bearing down on Magnifico at a terrifying speed! Johnson lashes out with his arm as he approaches, apparently looking to land a Shotgun Lariat, but ELM seems to snap back to attention just in time, ducking beneath JJ’s arm mere milliseconds before impact! Johnson manages to throw his hand out and grab the guardrail, stopping himself before he can run gut-first into it. THREE! “Magnifico avoided the Shotgun Lariat for a second time, on this occasion preventing himself from being knocked into the crowd!” Pete reports. “If Johnson had connected with the Lariat, there would have been a fairly good chance of ELM not even being able to get back into the ring before the ten count and JJ having to drag him back into the squared circle.” JJ hasn’t forgotten about Magnifico, though, and he spins around to face him...doing so as the luchadore sidesteps towards Johnson and throws his foot into the air! ELM drives the sole of his his boot beneath JJ’s chin, knocking him over the guardrail with a jaw-loosening Superkick! Luckily for him, Johnson falls onto an aisleway, and is actually given a bit of room by the surrounding fans, who appear to be too busy booing Magnifico to swarm around JJ. FOUR! “Hah!” King jeers. “Not only did Johnson fail at knocking ELM into the crowd, but Magnifico turned around and drove him right into the audience with a gorgeous Superkick! Now let’s see Johnson respond to the ten count!” ELM falls to one knee after landing the Superkick, needing a second to put out of his mind the pain that racks his lower back and shoulder. Magnifico shakes his head, gets back to his feet, and climbs over the guardrail. ELM steps onto the other side and sees JJ stirring and beginning to push himself to his feet. Ignoring the rather vulgar language directed at him by the surrounding fans, Magnifico steps over to Johnson, grabs him by the hair, and begins to pull him to his feet. FIVE! Magnifico pulls Johnson upwards and almost has him on his feet when JJ suddenly comes to life, batting ELM’s arm away with one arm while throwing a quick elbow at Magnifico’s forehead with the other! However, ELM isn’t as surprised as JJ would have hoped, as he ducks beneath said elbow, grabbing Johnson around the waist and pulling him into a Waistlock as he does so! Before JJ has a chance to escape the hold, Magnifico suddenly and swiftly hoists him into the air, right before throwing Johnson over his head and right back over the guardrail with a Belly-to-Belly Suplex! The fans “OHHHH!” as one as Johnson lands flat on his back, hitting the unforgiving ground with great force. SIX! “Good lord!” Pete cries, amazed despite himself. “It seemed as though Johnson had taken ELM by surprise, but Magnifico managed to avoid his strike right before tossing JJ back over the guardrail with a Belly-to-Belly Suplex!” “Fantastic work!” King gushes. “Magnifico has dodged every attack from Johnson recently, landing two powerful blows on JJ in the process!” “A fairly good point for once, King.” Pete begrudgingly admits. “Magnifico’s basically in control of the match right now. JJ would do well to cut down on the high-risk offense for now and focus on working over ELM’s shoulder, on which he’s already incurred a good bit of damage.” With one hand gripping his shoulder, Magnifico gingerly pushes himself off of the floor and climbs back over the guardrail, paying no mind to the thousands of fans behind him cursing his every move. ELM steps ontp the floor outside the ring and notices, with some disdain, that JJ is already stirring, eliminating the chance of a count out. Magnifico scowls and heads over to Johnson, then grabs him by the hair, painfully pulls him to his feet, and rolls him into the ring. ELM rolls right in after him and quickly stands, doing so as JJ slowly begins climbing to his feet. But as he’s doing so, Magnifico steps behind him, wraps his arms around JJ’s waist, and hoists him off the mat, apparently looking to spike his neck into the canvas with a Wheelbarrow Suplex! However, Johnson throws his elbow backwards in mid-air, slamming it right into the bridge of ELM’s nose and immediately ending his attempt at the Suplex! JJ manages to wriggle out of the stunned luchadore’s grip and land on his feet in front of the luchadore, facing away from him. The second his feet hit the ground, Johnson makes a break for the ropes in front of him, bouncing off of them as Magnifico shakes off the effects of the elbow strike. JJ charges back towards ELM, and as he approaches, the luchadore lashes out with his arm, aiming it right at Johnson’s neck with a Lariat! However, Johnson manages to duck beneath Magnifico’s extended arm, at the same time shooting his arm out and wrapping it around ELM’s neck! Before Magnifico even realizes what’s going on, Johnson locks his hands, trapping the luchadore’s neck and arm between his arms and locking him into the Olympic Hell! “Olympic Hell!” Pete cries. “Johnson has Magnifico locked in his signature Side Arm Triangle Choke, and is using it to put a great deal of stress on ELM’s damaged shoulder!” “Ridiculous.” King spits. “I’m sure Johnson is proud of himself for locking in that prepostrous-looking submission, but Magnifico will be able to power out of it in no time and make JJ look even sillier.” As the fans roar their approval, JJ pulls his arms as close together as they'll go, squeezing Magnifico's arm against his neck and putting a great amount of pressure on his damaged shoulder. Realizing that he'd do good to get out of this as quickly as possible, the luchadore grits his teeth through the pain and uses his free hand to grab a big handful of JJ's hair. Magnifico yanks at Johnson's scalp with all he's got, which only serves to annoy Johnson, as his grip doesn't weaken one bit despite the painful hair pulling. ELM lets out a cry of agony and frustration, the pain in his shoulder increasing by the second. The ref asks Magnifico if he wants to submit, receiving only a weary shake of the head from the luchadore, who also appears to be weakening thanks to the choking part of the submission. Sensing a submission is near, every fan in the arena cheers their little heart out, doing their best to spur JJ on and choke Magnifico out. Determined to not let that happen, ELM reaches for Johnson's leg with his foot, looking to wrap it around JJ's shin, trip him up, and get out of the submission! But when JJ sees Magnifico's foot snaking around his leg, he suddenly lifts him into the air, turns, and then falls onto his stomach, pulling ELM down with him and slamming his neck and shoulder into the canvas with the Rolling Olympic Hell! The pop that rises from the crowd is massive in its magnitude, only growing louder when Johnson floats onto the luchadore and makes the cover! As the ref slides into position, Johnson reaches over and hooks the leg of the motionless luchadore... ONE! TWO! THRRRRRRRRRNNNNOOOO!! Magnifico gets a shoulder up at the last possible moment, drawing a booming "OHHHHH!" from the disappointed crowd. ELM immediately grips his shoulder and grits his teeth after kick out, the pain now flowing freely through the damaged appendage. "No! JJ hit his modified Sambo Suplex, but it wasn't quite enough to keep Magnifico down for the three count!" LDP breathlessly reports. "Of course not!" King sharply counters. "That was simply a desperation move from Johnson, who saw that ELM was mere moments away from escaping his submission!" "Desperation or not, it was still a highly effective maneuver." Pete insists. "It may not have garnered Johnson a pinfall, but by using the Rolling Olympic Hell, he slammed Magnifico right on his damaged shoulder, putting something of an exclamation point on the submission. ELM could be in serious trouble if he is caught in one more submission that focuses on the shoulder." Somewhat frustrated at the lack of a pinfall, JJ roughly grabs Magnifico by the arm and climbs to his feet, pulling ELM upwards as he does so. Once Magnifico is standing, Johnson begins to whip him...when ELM suddenly throws his knee forward, driving it into JJ's gut with a sloppy yet effective Knee Strike! Johnson relinquishes his grip and doubles over, but his body is knocked straight shortly afterwards when ELM slams his knee into the bottom of his chin! Immediately after landing the second Knee Strike, Magnifico grabs JJ's arm and twists it behind his body, locking him in a Chickenwing and completing the first step to Montezuma's Revenge! But as Magnifico reaches for Johnson's neck, JJ suddenly throws his head forward, slamming his forehead right into the bridge of ELM's nose with a vicious Headbutt! The crowd roars its approval as Magnifico immediately releases JJ's arm and shoots both hands to his nose, pressing down on it as a small trickle of blood flows out of the right nostril. With Magnifico sufficently distracted, JJ is able to step to his side and wrap his right foot around ELM's right. Johnson then grabs Magnifico under the left armpit with his right arm, pulls out his right arm with his left, and then leans forward and uses his hold on ELM to push his entire body backwards! Magnifico and JJ are virtually parallel to the mat when Johnson suddenly and violently throws himself onto his back, pulling ELM with him and slamming his face into the canvas with a Standing Crash Landon! The live audience cheers louder than they have all night as Magnifico bounces slightly off of the mat before coming to rest face-down and motionless on the canvas, apparently completely stunned by the force of the maneuver! "Standing Crash Landon! Oh my God!" Pete shouts above the din of the delighted crowd. "Out of nowhere, Johnson busts out the move that Landon Maddix used to put Magnifico down during their match in Amsterdam!" "God damn it, that punk finds ways to piss me off even when he's not wrestling." King grumbles. "If JJ should somehow get a pinfall off of this, I'll tear my commentating liscense into tiny pieces." "King, you don't have a liscense." Pete reminds him. "You just showed up at SWF Headquarters crocked out of your mind and demanding a job, so they unfortunately stuck you here." "Magnifico could be in serious trouble here, and you're sitting there squabbling over minor details." King quickly changes the subject. "I'm ashamed of you, Pete." Johnson takes a moment's rest after landing the Crash Landon, lying right next to Magnifico and staring blankly up at the lights. After a couple seconds, JJ rolls towards ELM, grabs him by the shoulder, and laboriously rolls the listless luchadore onto his back. Johnson then throws his body onto Magnifico's, drawing yet another pop from the overexcited crowd. JJ wearily reaches over and hooks Magnifico's leg, doing so as the ref slides into position and begins counting... ONE! TWO! THHHHHHHHRRRRNNNNNOOOO!! "OHHHHHHH!!" Magnifico kicks out with the ref's hand millimeters from the mat! Visibly irritated, Johnson rolls off of the luchadore, slaps the mat, and begins to climb to his feet, leaving the stunned luchadore alone on the mat below. "Thank God." King sighs while wiping sweat from his brow. "I can't tell you how furious I would be if a Landon Maddix move were to decide this match." JJ reaches his feet fairly quickly and immediately heads over to the nearby corner, drawing a few anticipatory cheers from the crowd as he does so. Those cheers grow in number and volume as Johnson quickly ascends the corner's turnbuckles, reaching the top one in a matter of seconds. Careful to keep his balance, JJ slowly stands on the top turnbuckle, facing away from the ring. Johnson looks out over the for a moment, seeing that every fan in his line of vision is focused directly on him, cheering them on as best they know how. JJ closes his eyes, takes a deep breath...and then leaps backwards off of the turnbuckle! Thousands of flashbulbs go off throughout the arena, bathing Johnson in light as he executes a breathtaking 720 Corkscrew in mid-air! JJ somehow ends up parallel to the ground and is about to drive his entire body right into Magnifico's gut...when ELM suddenly rolls out of the way, leaving Johnson to crash violently into the mat! The crowd's disappointment comes in the form of a deafening "OHHHH!" as JJ bounces almost a foot off of the mat before coming to rest, clenching his gut and gritting his teeth as he writhes in pain on the canvas. "No! Johnson just missed!" Pete cries, unable to hide his disappointment. "JJ was so close to hitting with the Air Canada Moonsault, but Magnifico was able to get out of the way just in time!" "Serves him right, I'd say." King joyfully proclaims. "Even you must be inwardly calling JJ stupid for straying from the shoulder work and attempting such a high risk move." "Don't try to guess what my inner monologues are like anymore." Pete sharply warns. "You're completely wrong. Johnson realized that he was one high-impact move away from garnering a pinfall, and that even if he were to hook Magnifico into another submission, there's a chance he'd be able to escape from it before submitting. Attempting the Air Canada there was a risk on his part, but definitely a justifiable one." JJ slowly but surely puts the pain racking his entire body out of his mind, slowly turning onto his stomach and beginning the long climb to his feet as Magnifico does the same a few feet away. Both men rise at about the same rate, that is to say, agonizingly slow. Anxious to get JJ on his feet, the crowd begins to cheer and chant, doing their best to spur JJ on. “LET’S GO JAY JAY, LET’S GO!” *CLAP CLAP* “LET’S GO JAY JAY, LET’S GO!” *CLAP CLAP* “Would you people shut up?!” King snaps. “Bad enough I have to listen to your normal incoherent nonsense, but it’s even worse when you’re all saying the same stupid thing.” The cheer actually seems to work, as JJ quickens his pace somewhat, lunging to his feet as Magnifico remains stalled at one knee. Johnson falls into the ropes behind him, leaning against the cables and taking a much needed rest. However, when JJ sees Magnifico finally get to his feet, he grits his teeth and push himself off of the ropes, grabbing ELM by the arm shortly after he stands. Johnson then uses his grip to whip Magnifico across the ring, sending him rushing towards the far ropes. ELM bounces off of said ropes and charges back towards JJ, and as he approaches, Johnson steps up and wraps his arms around Magnifico’s waist, capturing him in a Waistlock! However, before JJ can do anything with it, ELM behins to wildly drive his elbow into Johnson’s forehead, desperate to escape the hold! JJ is resiliant at first, determined to land the Railgun Suplex...but Magnifico eventually wears him down, landing a particularly stiff Elbow Strike that allows him to wriggle free of Johnson’s grip. ELM immediately steps to JJ’s side after escaping the hold, then wraps his feet around Johnson’s ankles! Before JJ has a chance to escape, Magnifico falls forward, tripping Johnson up with a Drop Toe Hold as he does so! ELM shoots his hands out mid-fall, wrapping them around Johnson’s face and locking him into the Sangria Stretch as both men hit the mat! Magnifico yanks Johnson’s neck backwards, tearing apart the ligaments within as the concerned crowd roundly boos the luchadore’s actions. “Whoo, that’s more like it!” An overjoyed King declares. “Magnifico not only powered out of Johnson’s pathetic attempt at a Railgun Suplex, but countered it into a Sangria Stretch!” “Bad news for Johnson to be sure, but I’ve gotta say that this seems like a desperate move from Magnifico.” Pete analyzes. “Even though the Sangria Stretch is a devastating submission, it puts a great amount of stress on the shoulder. If the Stretch doesn’t garner a submission, it’ll have done nothing but further damage Magnifico’s shoulder.” The ref slides onto the mat and gets in JJ’s face, asking him if he wants to submit. Johnson immediately and angrily shouts “NO!”, right before shouting out in intense pain. JJ uses his hands to claw at Magnifico’s, but his grip is vice-like; Johnson’s clawing does nothing but irritate the luchadore, who leans back even further while yelling at JJ to submit. Johnson then claws at the mat and tries to pull himself towards the ropes, but he’s in the center of the ring. JJ is unable to drag the combined weight of Magnifico and himself more than a few inches, nowhere near as far as he needs to go. Frustrated, JJ slaps the mat and cries out in pain, doing so as the concerned fans looks on, some of them booing and some of them watching in anxious silence. Johnson remains motionless for a few moments, simply suffering under the submission, until he begins to rock his body back and forth, apparently looking to turn Magnifico onto his back! Suddenly given hope, the crowd cheers JJ on as he rolls left and right, building up nearly enough momentum to turn ELM over! Magnifico curses loudly, releases one of his hands, and begins to bash away at the back of Johnson’s head with his elbow! JJ immediately puts an end to his rolling, but the furious luchadore doesn’t stop there, repeatedly pummeling his skull as the angry crowd boos louder than they have all night! Magnifico finally seems to calm down a bit, but that means he’s composed enough to reapply the Stretch! Johnson, unable to escape the submission, releases a heartbreaking moan of anguish as Magnifico tears his neck apart with the submission. “Hahaha, yes!” An exuberant King shouts. “No matter what Johnson tried, he wasn’t able to escape! He’s got to be mere moments away from tapping out at this point!” “Frankly, I’m amazed that Magnifico’s shoulder has held up this long.” A concerned Pete admits. “At this rate, it’s looking as though JJ just might submit before ELM is forced to release the Stretch!” The ref once again asks JJ if he wants to submit, this time receiving no response from the weary competitor. A few moments later, Johnson slowly reaches out with a trembling hand, drawing thousands of shouts of “NO!” from the distraught audience. JJ’s hand floats over the canvas, ready to betray Johnson and give up the match. With twenty thousand people in the arena and millions around the world watching in horror, Johnson lifts his hand higher, seemingly prepared to tap out... ...when Magnifico suddenly releases the hold, screaming in pain and frustration as he does so! As the relieved crowd releases a deafening pop, ELM grips his shoulder and rolls away from Johnson, writhing in pain as JJ lays face-down and motionless only a few feet away. “No! No!” A delighted Pete shouts as King rips off his headset and curses up a storm. “Magnifico’s shoulder gave out at the last moment! JJ’s shoulder work pays off in ways he couldn’t have foreseen, as he’s saved from having to submit to the Sangria Stretch!” The crowd maintains its ridiculous level of volume despite Magnifico and Johnson doing nothing but laying there, their bodies racked with pain. After what seems like hours but is actually only about fifteen seconds, ELM begins to slowly, laboriously climb to his feet, slowed down significantly by an arm that’s been rendered almost useless. As such, when JJ begins to push himself to his feet a few moments later, he’s able to catch up with Magnifico fairly easily, reaching his hands and knees only a second or two after the luchadore. Once again, the crowd cheers and chants as one, completely united in their desire to see Johnson get to his feet and continue his fight against Magnifico. “It may just be because he’s fighting Magnifico, but would you just listen to these fans support JJ Johnson?” Pete shouts over the live audience. “They are ready to see JJ defeat Magnifico and become the new World Champion!” Finally, ELM reaches his feet, stumbling somewhat as he does so but managing to maintain his balance. A second later, JJ lunges to his feet...only to be immediately grabbed by Magnifico and lifted into the air! ELM spins Johnson’s body around in mid-air and is about to drive him downwards for La Dia de los Muertos, only to have the additional stress on his elbow stop him dead in his tracks halfway through! Johnson wriggles out of ELM’s grip, but instead of simply falling behind him, JJ scissors Magnifico’s arm with his legs while still on his shoulders! Johnson then wraps one arm around Magnifico’s face before throwing his entire body backwards, pulling ELM down with him as he falls to the mat! While maintaining the Scissors and the Crossface, JJ reaches for Magnifico’s arm, the one that happens to house the damaged shoulder, and twists it into a Chickenwing behind ELM’s body! The live audience is confused at first, but when they recognize the submission, they roar louder then they’ve roared all night, easily drowning out the luchadore’s piercing cries of pain! “Oh my God!” Pete cries while slapping his forehead. “Wing Span! JJ Johnson has locked Magnifico in the Wing Span, the deadly finisher made famous by his stablemate, Jay Hawke!” “Damn it, can’t this jerk at least use his own moves?!” King snaps, irritated. “At least this isn’t as bad as stealing one of Maddix’s, but I can’t execuse Johnson’s constant theft of other people’s maneuvers.” “Uh, King, maybe you should be a little more concerned about the ridiculously intense pain that Magnifico seems to in.” Pete advises. King stares at LDP for a second, his mouth agape, before turning his attention to the ring, suddenly very concerned. The ref drops to his knees and gets right in Magnifico’s face, asking him if he wants to submit. ELM throws his head from side to side, his eyes closed and his teeth gritted. Seeing the ropes in front of him, Magnifico plants his feet and tries to drag himself over to them, believing that to be his best way to escape the submission. However, that plan turns out to be a bit too ambitious, as ELM isn’t able to drag both him and Johnson more than a few inches across the mat. JJ wrenches the Chickenwing even higher up Magnifico’s back, drawing a piercing cry of pain from the luchadore. The ref again asks him if he wants to submit, this time receiving no response from the luchadore. “This is playing out much as it did a few moments ago when Magnifico had Johnson captured in the Sangria Stretch.” Pete observes. “But in this case, there’s nothing keeping JJ from indefinitely maintaining the hold. If he can’t figure out a way to escape the Wing Span, Magnifico will be forced to submit and relinquish the Championship!” Sensing that the end is near, every fan in the arena rises to their feet and cheers their little heart out, the moment they’ve been waiting for finally coming after so long. However, ELM seems intent on disappointing them, as he refuses to submit despite constant questioning from the referee. Suddenly, Magnifico plants his feet again, pushing himself off of the mat somewhat and giving him a bit of leverage. ELM then shifts his body back and towards Johnson’s head, pressing his shoulders onto the canvas! With the bit of movement he has left in his scissored hand, Magnifico grabs both of JJ’s ankles, holding his legs together as the ref slides into position and begins counting! ONE! JJ realizes what’s going on and releases the Crossface... TWO! JJ lets go of Magnifico’s Chickenwinged arm, leaving ELM to simply fall onto his chest... JJ pulls his legs apart, breaking Magnifico’s hold on them...

… but to no avail, as he falls to the unforgiving concrete floor below! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Todd Cortez ENTERED: 10th LEFT: 10th ELIMINATED: Stryke, Ghost Machine. ELIMINATED BY: Wes Davenport LEFT IN THE RING: Spike Jenkins, Wes Davenport, Kevin Coyote, The Crimson Skull ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “I can’t believe it,” King blurts out, “Todd’s gone, eliminated by Davenport’s dumb luck!” “Call it what you will, but Wes knew what he was doing, and has eliminated one of the favorites from the ‘Fuck!” Wes clutches his ribs with one arm, but as he hears the roar of the fans, he lifts his other arm skyward to an even bigger reaction! His celebration is short lived though, as the clock counts down to zero, as he and Coyote, who has Stryke by the hair, looks towards the entrance. “FIVE!” “FOUR!” “THREE!” “TWO!” “Who is it now!? We’re getting down to the last five entrants, and ANY of them would be odds on favorite to take this thing, considering the state of the men in the ring!” “ONE!” BBBBZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTT! … "PREPARE...FOR...LANDON!" ...WAAAAAHHHHH... *DUM DUM!* “And if anyone could take this match right now, it’s this man, the winner of the 2005 Clusterfuck!” The crowd goes absolutely bananas as Maddix jogs out from the back, looking a little flustered and bruised, but with a new fire in his eyes as he approaches the ring and a stage he’s all too familiar with. Despite the utter derision of the fans, he soldiers on, blocking everything out of his mind as he approaches ringside. “Entering at number 15, he is one half of the tag team champions, he is LANDON MADDIX!” “…THIS punk?” King scoffs. “Sure, he *may* have gotten lucky last year, but now things have changed, and EVERYONE will target him, especially when you consider his recent losing streak!” “You seem to forget, King, that he won the tag team titles this Smarkdown! Like him or not, he’s coming into this match with some momentum” The former World Champion slides into the ring, sweat soaking into the canvas as he does. Coyote, sensing an opportunity to cause a BIG sensation, makes a beeline for Maddix, but Landon ducks underneath his hasty clothesline! Coyote turns back around; he hopes his mistake doesn’t cost him, but his hopes are dashed as Maddix catches him and takes him over with an Exploder Suplex! Maddix storms after the rookie as Davenport sees The Crimson Skull, sulking on the ring apron and wiping a smidgen of blood from his mouth after Spike’s elbow. The actor hopes to get some easy pickings as he charges a cross the ring, trying to take the villains head off with an uppercut! Skull ducks the blow, and stands back up, laughing EVILY in Davenport’s face! His evil laugh soon turns into a frightened yelp as Davenport hits with a forearm on the temple, and hooks him in for a vertical Suplex! “This is a dangerous position for Skull to be in,” Pete says as Davenport’s attempt to heave the villain into the air is successful, but he’s unsuccessful in slamming him down as Crimson lands on his two feet! “TEN!” “This countdown means another wrestler is coming to the ring,” King informs up, drawing a confused look from Dogger. “What? I was just stating the bleedingly obvious like you.” “NINE!” Skull suddenly grabs Davenport and lifts him up in waistlock, ready to take him down, but instead, he runs forward! “EIGHT!” Davenport’s thighs catch the top rope and the force causes him to flip over the top rope! “SEVEN!” Another EVIL laugh is heard, but Skull’s neck is somehow snared by Wes’ ankles! “SIX!” The crowd is on tenterhooks as Skull is pulled over the top rope with Davenport and the two dangle precariously, the floor looming below. “FIVE!” Skull, stomach draped over the top rope, and Davenport, clinging onto the cable with is arms, hold on for dear life as the countdown continues… “FOUR!” “THREE!” … that is, until Spike Jenkins charges over, grabbing Crimson and pushing him over further over the top! “TWO!” Skull suddenly falls from the top and down to the floor as Davenport lets go… “ONE!” BBBBZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTT! BAM! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Crimson Skull ENTERED: 14th LEFT: 11th ELIMINATED: No one. ELIMINATED BY: Wes Davenport, Spike Jenkins LEFT IN THE RING: Spike Jenkins, Wes Davenport, Kevin Coyote, Landon Maddix ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ … And Skull crashes to the floor, but Davenport clings onto the top rope and isn’t taken with him! The crowd cheers boisterously as he lands on the ring apron, but Spike doesn’t rest on his laurels as he stomps on the actor, trying to push him off the apron as the crowd almost forgets about the next entry! … That is, until they all hear the unmistakable sounds of Lynyrd Skynyrd, and Bruce Blank comes hobbling out from the back! “Ha-ha, I knew Blank wouldn’t let me down!” King shouts as Blank, hastily put together and patched up after the Japanese Death match, grunts and trudges down the aisle, while the fans yell- WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! -but Blank just spits in their direction, which turns out to be more blood than saliva! “He’s a tough bastard, I’ll give him that much! But I wonder if he’s got more brawn than brains, because coming out here is sheer suicide!” “Even I can’t refute that,” King admits. WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! The crowd’s chants cause Blank to growl as he reaches ringside, while Landon goes to town on Coyote, battering him in the corner with a constant barrage of punches, and Spike gives up on the desperate actor who hugs the bottom rope like he would an Oscar. Blank wearily climbs through the ropes where Jenkins is there to meet him, charging up to him, but Blank casually lifts his arm and pokes Spike in the eyes! Jenkins recoils, his eyes watering; he tries again, only to be taken down to the mat with a Big Boot! “SEVEN!” The clock appears on screen again… “SIX!” “FIVE!” Only Coyote and Maddix are left standing as the three other men in the ring collapse, Blank hardest of all. “FOUR!” “THREE!” “TWO!” “ONE!” BBBBZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTT! … The lights drop out… … THE KING...HAS...RETURNED! “From Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, he the other half of the tag team champions, he is MAX KING!” “The entrants are coming thick and fast now!” Pete shouts as “The Icon” walks out, “Superstar” by Saliva playing the background and the title draped over his shoulder and Kelly Connelly’s arms wrapped around his waist! “LET’S GO MA-AX!” “LET’S GO MA-AX!” The two share a kiss before King dumps his title on her and charges towards the ring, fans cheering all the while! Kelly fells a tad awkward and left out as she walks down the aisle and Max slides into the ring, bouncing to his feet. “Both tag team champions are in the ring now,” Pete points out, “but whether they decide to work together or not remains to be seen!” “Are you kidding me!?” replies King, shaking his head. “They barely worked as a team to win the tag titles, and in this environment, you can be sure all bets are off!” Just like on Smarkdown, Maddix listens to the cheers King receives from the crowd, angered and frustrated, but this isn’t Smarkdown, and Maddix has the chance to do something about it- SMACK! BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! -and he does, kicking King in the face with a Dropsault! “The mega-powers EXPLODE!” King shouts. “Mega-powers?” “…I’ve just always wanted to say that.” “Nonetheless,” continues Longdogger, “it seems few alliances are being forged in this match, while last year, we had people allied with each other left and right! Teams like Martial Law and Revolution Zero are no more, and now it’s just a massive free-for-all!” King is forced back into the turnbuckles by Maddix, who seems unusually tired after entering the match not long ago as Coyote stumbles out of the opposite corner, only to run into a brick wall in Bruce Blank! The redneck groggily grabs Kevin, lifting him up onto his shoulder for a Belly-to-Back Suplex, but the wily Coyote manages to flip out of the move and land safely! With Blank teetering back and forth, Coyote spies a prize opportunity to take him out for good as he runs towards the strands and jumps onto the second rope! “It could be the Full Moon Assault!” Pete shouts as Coyote springs off the cable and rotates in midair, his entire body outstretched as he flies towards Blank… RRRRRRAAAAAAHHHHHHH! … but Blank, despite his condition, plucks Coyote from the air and holds him over his shoulder! Surprising even himself, Bruce chugs forward and dumps Coyote onto the canvas with a Powerslam, driving the air right out of him! Just as Coyote hits, the clock counts down… “TEN!” “NINE!” “EIGHT!” “SEVEN!” “There’s body lying all over that ring!” Pete shouts as Blank falls to the canvas again, absolutely spent, “but we’ve still got 3 more to come!” “SIX!” “FIVE!” “FOUR!” “THREE!” “TWO!” “ONE!” BBBBZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTT! This time, Spike peers up from the canvas as he and the entire crowd hears “Vitamin” by Incubus, and the crowd, simply put, explodes! “From Elkheart, Indiana, this is the Cruiserweight Champion, ZYON!” “If we didn’t already have enough bad blood in that ring,” Pete says, “Zyon and Spike’s turbulent relationship is about to come to a bloody head! On the other hand, the two might see a chance to aid one another and enter the final three together!” King shakes his head as he looks at the Straight-Edge Superstar, grimacing as he looks at the Cruiserweight title slung over Zyon’s shoulder. “Spike’s ego would never allow that, Pete. Zyon has basically screwed him out of the International championship, and refused him a shot at the Cruiserweight title! There’s no way he’s going to help Zyon’s star rise above his any further!” The eighteenth entrant of the Clusterfuck climbs the ring steps and slowly ascends to the top rope as a certain failed actor wearily climbs to his feet, only to have Zyon- CCCCRRRAAAASSSHHHH! -use his whole body as a weapon, slamming into the big man’s chest with a corkscrew body attack! The fans are back on their feet, chanting- ZY – ON! ZY – ON! ZY – ON! -at the top of their lungs! Zyon climbs to his feet and dusts himself off as Spike approaches, ready to rain on the Unique Youth’s parade, but Maddix, having dealt with King, charges out from the corner and grabs Jenkins’ jaw, falling straight down to the mat, cocking his knees- CRACK! -and slams Jenkins spine first across them! The sickening sound prompts boo’s from the crowd of the Staples Centre as Max King charges out from the corner, crashing into Maddix with a clothesline! As King straddles Landon, firing lefts and rights into his temple, Zyon approaches Spike who lies face down on the mat, but before he can do anything, Davenport recovers just in time to come over and aim a kick right towards the Cruiserweight’s midsection, doubling him over as the clock counts down in the background! “TEN!” “NINE!” Davenport lifts Zyon from the mat in a Standing Headscissors, readying him for a Powerbomb! “EIGHT!” “SEVEN!” … Zyon avoids being driven down by Wes’ power, slipping free and landing behind the actor! “SIX!” “FIVE!” As Spike uses the ropes to pull himself up, his whole body aching, Zyon builds up some momentum, sprinting towards the strands and pushing himself off towards Davenport…. “FOUR!” …Zyon leaps into the air, but Davenport instinctively ducks and grabs pushes Zyon up and over his head in a leapfrog… “THREE!” The Unique Youth soars through the air… “TWO!” …lands on top of Spike’s shoulders… “ONE!” … AND TAKES HIM OVER THE TOP ROPE WITH A FLYING HEADSCISSORS! BBBBZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTTTT! “Jenkins crashes to the concrete!” Pete cries, “he’s finally been eliminated, his Clusterfuck mission brought to an end by his friend!” “FORMER friend!” King adds as Jenkins crawls onto all fours, his mind too far gone to contemplate the events that have transpired. “Spike was an absolute iron man tonight, lasting almost the whole way, but ZYON of all people cut his night short!” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Spike Jenkins ENTERED: 1st LEFT: 12th ELIMINATED: Labertino, Matt Myers, The Crimson Skull ELIMINATED BY: Zyon LEFT IN THE RING: Wes Davenport, Kevin Coyote, Landon Maddix, Max King, Bruce, Blank, Zyon and… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Hailing from Saitama Prefecture, Japan, he is… TORU TAKAHARA!” As “Teethgrinder” blares through the speakers, rocking the Staples Centre, both Max King and Landon Maddix look up, finding none other than TORU bolting towards the ring! The commentators don’t need to say a word as TORU slides into the ring, his eyes firmly set on the new tag champs. As Takahara charges across the ring, driving a rising knee lift into King’s chest, Davenport leans over the top rope where Zyon dangles after eliminating Spike, still in danger himself! Davenport tries to pry the youth’s fingers free of the top rope, but before he can, Zyon skins the proverbial cat and pulls himself back up, taking Davenport’s head in a headscissors! Sensing the imminent danger, having seen the headscissors in action on Jenkins, Davenport quickly steps back, stretching Zyon out towards the centre of the ring, and then throwing his legs forward, sending Zyon onto the ring apron! Davenport charges again, but Zyon hits him with a stiff forearm, staggering the actor! The Unique Youth hears the rallying cry from the crowd and sets himself, leaping onto the top rope! But at the same time, Davenport shuffles forward, a side kick catching Zyon in the knee… OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH … WHAM! … The Unique Youth hits the ring apron, but is unable to hold onto the ropes as he falls further… CCCRRRRAAASSSSHHHHHHH! ... his body impacting against the unforgiving concrete and the fans go ape! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Zyon ENTERED: 18th LEFT: 13th ELIMINATED: Spike Jenkins ELIMINATED BY: Wes Davenport LEFT IN THE RING: Wes Davenport, Kevin Coyote, Landon Maddix, Max King, Bruce Blank, TORU Takahara ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Zyon is GONE!” Pete exclaims, mouth agape. “He came in, eliminated Spike, only to be eliminated HIMSELF shortly after!” “Even *I* feel for the guy,” King replies. “He was just another victim of Davenport’s fluky streak, but at least now he and Spike now have time to talk things out backstage. Let’s see if we can’t get some camera’s out there!” With all the frantic goings-on, the clock ticks over as the action in the ring continues, with TORU unleashing every sort of kick imaginable on The Icon, the pain in his left arm still being felt well after Smarkdown. “FIVE!” “FOUR!” “THREE!” “TWO!” “ONE!” BBBBZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTTTT! As the buzzer sounds, bagpipes begin to play and “Barroom Hero” hits to an awesome reaction from the crowd! “Making his way to the ring at entry number 20, he is, TIM DILLION!” “… And the SWF’s favorite Irish brawler rounds out the participants,” Pete cries, “and what a chance it is for him to absolutely shock the world and win this!” “Hah, not bloody likely,” King guffaws, before his eyes scan the ring, inspecting every man left with a troubled expression. “…but it’s entirely possible, if not probable, considering the state some of these men are in!” Bruce Blank, covered in various cuts and gashes, some bleeding through their hastily applied bandages, props himself up in the corner, as young Kevin Coyote retreats to the opposite corner, his head rattled by the constant stiff blows he’s received. Davenport holds onto the bottom rope, wishing it were one of his escorts comforting him as he cries through the night, while Maddix just reenacts the events of the previous year in his mind while nursing his swollen head. In the centre of the ring, TORU whips Max King into the ropes, waiting for the Icon’s return. King hits the strands with full force, planning to burst back at TORU and take him out for good, but Dillon nixes that plan, sticking his hand underneath the bottom rope and tripping the Icon up! As Dillon sneaks into the ring, TORU manages a devious smirk as King returns to him as he sends a boot into Max’s ribs, doubling the tag champion over. In a show of defiance, TORU underhooks both of King’s arms, bearing the searing pain in his left arm long enough to lift King up for… “TIGER DRIVER!” Pete shouts as the fans rise from their seats, but Dogger suddenly blurts out, “but where is he going!?” The Japanese Hammer runs forward, throwing King torso first onto the top rope! The Icon groans as he’s left out to dry, but TORU soon follows up, bouncing off the ropes and charging towards him- BAM! -connecting with a jumping knee lift to King’s head, sending the rest of his body over the top rope and to the floor! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Max King ENTERED: 17th LEFT: 14th ELIMINATED: No one. ELIMINATED BY: TORU Takahara LEFT IN THE RING: Wes Davenport, Kevin Coyote, Landon Maddix, Bruce Blank, TORU Takahara, Tim Dillon ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “And Max King has been ELIMINATED!” Pete shouts for effect as referee’s surround the Icon, but he shoves them away, glaring up at TORU who points at his arm and fires off some spiteful words in his native tongue. As he does though, he leaves himself wide open for Tim Dillon, who dropkicks him in the shoulder, sending him hurtling to the mat! With a clear path present across the ring, Kevin Coyote charges down the centre, Bruce Blank his intended target! The rookie leaps into the air, but Blank dodges, or make that, stumbles onto the mat, avoid a collision as Coyote corrects himself at the last moment, planting his feet on the top rope! The crowd gasps as he almost slips, but manages to keep his footing! Blank, feeling worse than his biggest ever drinking binge, hazily climbs to his feet. He turns around to Coyote, who prepares himself for a leap of faith… … but Bruce simply plants a hand into his back and pushes him off the turnbuckles, over the ring post and down to the ring barrier! “Coyote makes the ultimate rookie mistake and takes his eyes off the opponent and pays the price!” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Kevin Coyote ENTERED: 13th LEFT: 15th ELIMINATED: No one. ELIMINATED BY: Bruce Blank LEFT IN THE RING: Wes Davenport, Landon Maddix, Bruce Blank, TORU Takahara, Tim Dillon ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “What the hell is going on!?” King exclaims, looking at the corpses piling up on the outside of the ring. “The pressure is certainly on now, and one mistake could cost any of these men the match!” WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! The crowd is buzzing like never before as Bruce raises his invisible drink to the crowd and slurs a few curses at them, before collapsing in the corner. Back in the centre of the ring, Dillon unloads on TORU with Irish FURY~! The brawler staggers Takahara with right and left boxing combinations, knocking TORU slowly but surely back towards the strands. Dillon fires off one last stinging right to stun TORU, before charging to the opposite ropes, his crosshairs set of TORU! But just as Dillon bounces off the cables and turns back around, Landon flies towards him from seemingly nowhere, planting one foot on his leg and springing up… BAM! … his knee crushing against the Irishman’s skull! “Holy SHIT, the Shining Wizard!” Pete cries. “The Shining Wizard has…” …Dillon is flown backward from the force of the blow as he hits the ropes against his will and hurtles over the top, descending down towards the floor, hitting with a sickening thud! “… Landon’s eliminated Dillon with the Shining Wizard! These guys have put themselves through so much, and just when it seems they’re about to give up, when they can’t do anything more, they suddenly reappear to throw a spanner in the works!” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Tim Dillon ENTERED: 20th LEFT: 16th ELIMINATED: No one. ELIMINATED BY: Landon Maddix LEFT IN THE RING: Wes Davenport, Landon Maddix, Bruce Blank, TORU Takahara, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The sound of the crowd’s disapproving, non-believing roar bounces around in Davenport’s ears and through his skull, and as he pulls himself up in the corner his eyes open wide, realizing that he might still has a chance! “Unfortunately, this time it turns out to be Landon Maddix,” King says in a spiteful tone. “I’d gladly give my first born just so Maddix doesn’t win the Clusterfuck! I don’t think I could stand it.” “King,” Pete replies, “you don’t even have any children, or at least, the DNA results aren’t conclusive.” “Fine, then I’d give up YOUR first born, as long as the fates conspire to keep Maddix away from the World Title.” “You leave Ian out of this!” As the commentator’s begin to fire up once again, so do the crowd, jeering the nefarious tactics on one Landon Maddix! The Mexican, and former World Champion, just ignores them, knowing the ultimate prize is just within his reach. Again. TORU, unaware that Maddix may have just saved him in this match, greets the man who took his tag team title belt with a short arm knee lift, winding the Cockroach! TORU pulls Maddix in again, hitting a second knee strike, followed by a third! Keeping a firm hold on Landon’s arm, TORU whips him into the furthest ropes, but Maddix reaches back and grabs the top rope with both arms, stopping dead in his tracks! Maddix beckons for Takahara to come forward, but the Japanese Hammer simply grins and shakes his head, waiting for Maddix to make the move. The Mexican is happy to oblige as he charges forward, managing to duck underneath a Yazuka Kick from TORU! Planting his front foot forward, Maddix puts on the breaks and pivots around expertly, shooting a Superkick towards Takahara! The Japanese Hammer shows a toothy grin as he snares Landon’s leg in his clutches, but the Mexican soon answers, spinning around and- WHHHOOOSSSSHHHHH! RRRRRAAAAAAHHHHHHH! -hitting nothing but thin air as TORU ducks underneath a Dragon Whip attempt! Maddix manages to plant both of his palms onto the canvas as Takahara grabs his opposite leg, holding both in tow. Maddix bounces up once, then twice, then a third time, springing up off the mat and back up towards TORU, grabbing him around the head in a side headlock! Davenport and Blank, spent, can only look on as Maddix tries to move all of his weight forward and slam TORU’s face into the canvas! … but the Japanese Hammer has other ideas. Before Maddix can shift his weight, TORU shifts HIS, leaning back and back peddling while putting an arm underneath Landon’s legs! The crowd rise as TORU shimmies and wobbles, but finally reaches the strands, releasing Landon in a belly-to-back type maneuver… …and the crowd gasp as Maddix goes over… …and the crowd gasp Maddix goes down… … …and the crowd break into spontaneous applause as Maddix hits the concrete floor! “YES!” King screams, almost reaching a climax. “HE’S GONE! TORU you magnificent bastard, I think I love you!” “What a twist of fate!” Pete cries as TORU collapses onto all fours. “Maddix took TORU’s tag team gold away from him, but now, the Japanese Hammer has secured his place in the final three while DENYING Maddix another shot at glory!” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Landon Maddix ENTERED: 15th LEFT: 17th ELIMINATED: Tim Dillon. ELIMINATED BY: TORU Takahara THE FINAL THREE: Wes Davenport, Bruce Blank and TORU Takahara. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Well, it’s all come down to this, folks!” Pete shouts as the three men left standing at the end of it all slowly climb to their feet, and Nick Soapdish pushes all other referee’s aside, taking the honor of officiating the Three-way for himself! “Wes Davenport, Bruce Blank and TORU Takahara have all earned there spots in the final three, and will now battle it out amongst themselves until one of them goes down for the three count!” “And you know who deserves the most out of these 3?” “Bruce Blank.” Pete replies, second guessing his partner. “No, it’s Bruce Blank!” King pauses, looking at Pete, before continuing, “he had the guts and determination to pull himself out from a HELLACIOUS Japanese Deathmatch, and STILL reach this point! I just have a feeling his amazing streak will continue.” The redneck in question staggers forward, a far, far away look in his eyes as- *DING!* -the bell rings! The crowd’s allegiance is soon known as they roar, chanting in unison- DA – VEN – PORT! DA – VEN – PORT! DA – VEN – PORT! For the first time in his revived wrestling career, the crowd chant for his name, and the actor gazes out in wonder, soaking it all in and smiling, but Bruce ends the merriment abruptly, firing a stiff right hand at the actor’s face! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! The chants of White Trash have some venom in them as Bruce nails Wes with a flurry of punches, sending the actor stumbling into the turnbuckles. When TORU tries to interfere, Blank fires a back elbow to the bridge of his nose! Blank takes his sweet time as he stalks Davenport into the corner, suddenly reaching down and scooping the actor up, placing him in the turnbuckles upside down in the tree of woe! “Brilliant move on the part of Blank, King gushes as the redneck stomps on Wes’ head once for good measure. “With Davenport indisposed, he’s free to focus on TORU, and have no distractions when he eventually pins him!” “OR,” Pete retorts with a grin, “it would work the other way around!” King‘s hopes are quickly dashed as Blank is kicked again, again and again in his tender midsection by Takahara! TORU wipes a trickle of blood away from his nose as his eyes narrow towards Blank. The Japanese Hammer takes the brute by the hand and sends him into the far ropes, smacking him in the face on his return with a LAARRRIIIIIIAAATTTOOOOO! The crowd begins to get behind TORU as Blank skids across the canvas, but immediately gets back to his feet for more! TORU is glad to deliver as he doubles Bruce over with a sharp kick, and wraps his arms around his waist from the side while Davenport looks on, upside down, and helpless! “Ore GA TORU!” Pete cries in his best Japanese accent, which turns out to be horrible, but it succeeds in annoying King. “Almost any move from any of these three powerhouses could put their opponent down as TORU is only seconds away from certain victory!” This time, Pete’s the one’s who disappointed as Bruce holds fast, blocking the move! TORU’s injured left arm proves to be a greater hindrance than he thought as he tries in vain to heave the redneck off the mat. The momentary lapse from Takahara gives Blank just enough of a window to place his hands underneath the Japanese man’s thighs and lift him straight up, then straight back down, dropping him groin first across his knee! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! Squirming and writhing about madly, Davenport finally shakes himself free as Bruce hooks TORU in for a vertical Suplex, pulling the Japanese Hammer into the air… “BLANK BOMB!” is all King utters as Blank prepares to drop TORU straight down on his noggin’, but before he can… RRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! -Davenport bolts across the ring, dives across the canvas and takes out Blank’s right leg with a chop lock! The massive Blank teeters, wobbles, and then finally topples, losing his grip on TORU who slips behind him safely! Davenport breathes heavily as TORU kicks the same leg, bringing Blank down onto one knee, before charging into the strands, gaining as much momentum as humanly possible before returning, using Blank’s knee as a stepladder to leap even higher… BAAAAAMMMMM! YYYYEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! … and connect with a Shining Enziguri as the sound of boot on skull resonates throughout the arena, shortly replaced by the screams of tens of thousands of fans! “TORU’s done it, he’s finally done it!” Pete exclaims, jumping out of his chair. “Blank crumples to the mat, his already beaten body now broken, as Takahara need only cover him!” “Damnit, it’s not fair, it’s just not fair!” King protests in reply as TORU pins both of Blank’s arms out to the side. “Blank would have this thing one if not for the whole Japanese Deathmatch business!” Soapdish slides over with all haste, slamming his palm on the mat as the crowd chant along- “ONE!” “Damnit! Do something Bruce!” King angrily shouts, but Blank is too far gone to hear his words. “TWO!” “Congratulations to TORU, winner of the 2006 Cluster-“ “TTTTHHHRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” … … Suddenly, as the fans chant what they think is a three count, Nick Soapdish’s hand stays just millimeters off the canvas as Takahara is snatched up by Davenport without warning! The count is broken up by the actor who lunges forward with desperation, grabbing TORU’s arms and locking them in a double chickenwing! “What the HELL!?” King cries, totally flabbergasted as Davenport slams Takahara’s face into the mat, not once, not twice, but three times! The Japanese Hammer bleeds from nose and mouth, but the blood simply smears against the canvas as Davenport takes a deep breath… YYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!” … flipping over into a bridge and locking TORU in the… “CATTLE MUTILATION!” both announces cry at once as Davenport shows an intensity and fire no one has seen from the once actor turned wrestler. Soapdish, like the fans, are astounded, but he glides across the mat, getting in TORU’s face and asking him the all important question as tens of thousands of screaming, delirious fans cry their lungs out! DA – VEN – PORT! DA – VEN – PORT! DA – VEN – PORT! “When did he learn THAT!?” King asks out loud, still astonished. “And with TORU’s injured arm…” The pain is immense and causes the Japanese Hammer to howl uncontrollably, but still TORU hangs on, refusing to give in! “I have no idea King, but if Davenport can keep it locked in long enough, he may be on the verge…” Finally, Soapdish leans in… and then leaps to his feet, calling for the timekeeper to ring the bell! *DING! DING! DING!* … “MY GOD, he’s done it! He’s actually done it!” Pete’s ecstatic cries are soon drowned out as “Get Over It” blares through the peakers and Davenport drops face first to the canvas, unable to comprehend what he’s achieved until he hears Funyon get on the mic, announcing to the world, “LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, THE WINNER OF THE TWO THOUSAND AND SIX S W F CLUSTERFUCK… WES DDDAAAAVVVEEENNNNPPPOOORRRRTTTT!” The fans are in sheer disbelief, much like our announcers, and many SWF employee’s in the back, but they disbelief soon turns to into steady realization, and then absolute joy as Soapdish takes Davenport’s by the wrist, helping him to his feet as a dazzling array of confetti, balloons and streams fall from the sky! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ TORU Takahara ENTERED: 19th LEFT: 18th ELIMINATED: Max King, Landon Maddix ELIMINATED BY: Wes Davenport ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ TORU writhes in absolute pain in the centre of the ring as Chris Card and Natasha rush down the aisle, hitting the ring to check on the wounded warrior, pulling him out of the ring. Davenport looks back at him, then around at all the fans cheering for *him*, and he basks in his glory as he climbs onto the turnbuckles, arms outstretched, his eyes looking above! “That right, Wes,” King grumbles as he stares up at the victorious actor-turned Clusterfuck champion, “you squeaked by, but only by the very grace of god! Anyway, it doesn’t matter, because whether he faces Magnifico or Johnson, he’ll still come out on the losing end, because that’s just what he is, a loser!” “I don’t know how you can say that right now, King,” Longdogger replies with a broad smile as the decorations continue to rain down, and the crowd continues to cheer! “He toiled hard for this victory, and out lasted the likes of Spike Jenkins, who lasted for so long, and Stryke, a surprise packet who eliminated FOUR by his hand alone!” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Bruce Blank ENTERED: 16th LEFT: N/A ELIMINATED: Kevin Coyote ELIMINATED BY: N/A ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Trailerpark Messiah begins to pick himself up, sliding out of the ring, disgusted by the spectacle as he spits out a gob of blood, and possibly a tooth. “Well, what can I say, Bruce Blank put in a superhuman effort tonight, lasting a Japanese Deathmatch AND finishing the Clusterfuck! Unfortunately, there can only be one winner, and luckily, it’s someone the fans have come to love!” “Oh CAN the false adulation, Pete!” King says, bitterly. “You’re over the freaking’ moon that Blank lost tonight!” Pete shakes his head, but that soon turns into a manic nod as Davenport hops down from the corner, standing in the middle of the squared circle, looking down at the mat in contemplation. “Another Clusterfuck is in the books, folks,” Pete says, “and we have an unlikely winner in Wes Davenport, who will go on to meet the winner of JJ Johnson And El Luchadore Magnifico for the WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE!” Pet’s words ring in Wes’ ears. He takes a deep breath as it all finals sinks in. … “…I’m going to From the Fire…?”

Los Angeles, for once, is calm. On this quiet Sunday evening, denizens of the city walk the streets with a cool breeze nipping at them, and a clear, starry sky shining above. Indeed, it's a beautiful evening, almost serene an- "LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, THIS IS THE S W F CLUSTERFUCK!" …Humph. The rather pleasant image conjured is suddenly shattered by a blood curdling cry from Longdogger Pete, who's just as excited as the thousands on thousands of fans filling the Staples Centre on one of the biggest nights on the SWF Calendar! The mood has suddenly lifted, the cheers intensify, and signs are held aloft as the camera pans through, capturing every one of them on film for posterity as the rabid and delirious fans continue to cheer! One reads: "20 Men… or 19 and 1 Robot?" While another says in big, black lettering: "Cortez will plunder Mexican Gold at From the Fire!" Unfortunately, the sign holder is unlucky enough to be sitting next to some of the few surviving ancestors of the Aztec people. "It's that time once again folks, we're fast approaching zero hour, as the sixth annual Clusterfuck is set to begin any moment!" Longdogger shouts as the fans anticipation grows every second and a graphic appears on the SmarkTron, showing all twenty men, and the words "Number One Contendership for the SWF Heavyweight Title" at the bottom of the screen! The importance of the match is well-known by the fans as they are whipped into a fever-pitch and predictions are shouted out at absolute random- "ZYON!" "CORTEZ!" "JENKINS!" "MADDIX!" "TORU!" "WHITE TRRAAASSSSHHHHH!" … "H-VILLE THUGG!" … "King, it's 2006. Thugg died last year." "Oh, yeah, right," King replies, embarrassed, simply caught up in the excitement of it all. "I'm just caught up in the excitement of it all!" Pete just grins to his cohort and continues, "So I've heard. Well, we're just moments away from the Clusterfuck, where twenty of the Federation's best will duke it out in that fabled squared circle, with none other than a shot at the biggest prize in this industry on the line!" "But it's not just that," King adds, composing himself, remaining as professional as he sometimes manages to be, "the winner forever be etched in the history books as the winner of the SWF Clusterfuck, the most grueling match of the year, and known as a true champion of the business." "That's all too true my friend. The Clusterfuck has instantly shot the winner into superstardom, and you gotta believe that every single man in this match will pull out all the stops, put their body on the line and put their heart and soul into this contest to come out the victor!" With those words, the camera fades into a shot of the ring. Funyon, microphone in hand as always, gazes out amongst the sea of fans, feeling inspired and raises the mic to his lips as he announces to the crowd in his deep, booming voice, "Ladies and Gentleman, the following contest… is the 2006 SWF CLUSTERFUCK!" The fans cheer their loyal hearts out, realizing that there's no more stalling and the match is finally upon them! "In this match," continues Funyon, smiling broadly from the response, "two men will start in the ring, followed by another superstar every two minutes. The only way to be eliminated is to be thrown over the top rope and have both feet touch the floor, and of course, the winner of this match will go on to face the WORLD CHAMPION at FROM THE FIRE!" As soon as Funyon utters those words, the lights suddenly go out. The cheers fade, and a hush falls over the crowd as the darkness lingers over the arena, until suddenly- BAM! -the familiar, grinding guitar chords of Black Label's "Lamb of God" kick into action. The drums begin to pound, reverberating around the arena and through the fans spine's as they speed up until- "AAAAHHHHHHHH!" "… and here's out number one entrant!" Pete cries as the ear piercing screen of Randy Blythe magically bring the lights back to life, and shine with greater intensity above center stage. On cue, Spike strides out from behind the velvet curtain, his black hoodie covering most of his face, but as the fans begin to cheer, we see his eyes peer left to right, scanning the crowd, and a grin cross his dial. The straight-edge superstar drops to one knee, letting an arm dangle to one side, while the other holds his knee, clenching it tightly as his confidence grows. He suddenly bursts to life, crossing his arms in the famous "X" and rising to his feet at once, turning towards the crowd and nodding his head as the metal continues to flow. "As everyone knows, Spike took the number one spot in the Clusterfuck," begins Pete, watching Spike waltz down the ramp, cocky as ever. "No doubt the straight-edge superstar has something to prove and do something that no man is yet to do: enter that ring at number one, and last ALL twenty men to win!" "Please welcome, coming to the ring at number one…" Funyon shouts as Spike hits the ring, grinning like an idiot as he flexes, "he is "Hollywood" SPIKE JENKINS!" "He's proven something to me already," King responds, a smirk soon appearing, "but it's something that I've always known: Spike Jenkins is a damn fool! He may have visions of grandeur, and a fairytale playing out in his mind already, but I don't think he's fully grasped the enormity of this situation… there's twenty men! Twenty of the best duking it out and Spike will have to last almost an hour! One grueling, bruising hour! Did I mention there were TWENTY men!?" "All right King, we get it!" Pete snaps. "Whatever ill-will you may fill towards this man, as I'm sure some fans here and at home do, he's currently one of the most experienced men in the SWF, and I'm sure he'll use every trick in the book, every opportunity to his advantage to outlast the rest!" There's an uneasy feeling in the Staples Centre as the low murmurs of the crowd are heard, and Spike takes off his hoodie rubs his hands together, standing alone in the centre of the ring. He now slightly regrets his decision to draw number one. …Only slightly. "And drawing number two…" His regret soon disappears, replaced by his usual cocky assurance as the loud, upbeat Bouncing Souls hit "Ole" plays through the P.A, and Labertino, his gold mask glittering in the spotlight and his heart pounding in that same spotlight, comes charging down the ramp with the fans cheering! "… Please welcome, SWF newcomer, LABERTINO!" "It's the latest high flying sensation from Mexico, Labertino!" Pete cries as Labertino runs down the ramp way, slapping hands with the fans and he always does, humble by the reaction the fans give him. "He's only been with the SWF a short while, but already he's impressed us with his Luchadore stylings-" Labertino wastes no time sliding into the ring, getting the drop on Jenkins as he *drops* him to the mat with a double-leg takedown! *DING! DING! DING* "-and we're already underway!" Pete cries as Labertino swings his fists of fury, pounding away at Spike's noggin'! The crowd gives him vocal support as he leaps back to his feet, full of fire, leaving the straight-edge superstar lying on the mat. Labertino backs into the ropes, returns, and drops his leg across Spike's throat! "That's what I like to see!" King bellows loudly, having no love for either man in the ring, but a love for the fight. "Labertino comes out like a bull at a gate and has the Spike reeling already." "It's always important to conserve energy," Pete warns, "but with so many threats in the ring, it won't matter how much energy you have before you get thrown over the top!" … As Labertino leaps into the air, aiming a flying forearm in Spike's direction, the Straight-Edge Superstar is able to dodge! Labertino puts on the breaks and turns back around, but receives a shotei right to the throat! The fans neither man but cheer Spike none-the-less as he advances, returning the favor to Labertino as he hits him with right hands, rocking the Mexican star back towards the corner. Spike takes him by the hands and easily whips him across the ring, but Labertino recovers before smacking into the turnbuckles and manages to leap onto the second rope and steady himself! Spike spies a golden opportunity to take out his plucky opponent and charges forward, but Labertino succeeds in sucking him in, leaping off the ropes and twisting in mid-air, falling on top of Jenkins with a flying body splash! "Well, well!" Pete shouts, almost chuckling to himself. "Labertino could have easily been knocked over the turnbuckles, and Spike knew that, but Labertino also knew that! He drew Spike in and then pounced, taking him down once again!" "And again I feel it's necessary to point out that Spike is an utter fool," King says, taking great delight in bringing us that fact as Labertino strikes Jenkins in the temple with a flying forearm, knocking him dangerously towards the ropes. This time it's Labertino to make a hot-headed mistake as he charges at Spike, hoping to knock him over the top rope, but it's Jenkins who sends Labertino over the rope with a back body drop! The crowd gasp as Labertino flies high in the air, but he manages to contort his body in mid-flight and plant both feet back on the ring apron! "Labertino survives the first close shave of the night, but Spike looks to change that!" shouts Pete as Jenkins blindly turns around, swinging his arm out wildly, trying to knock the Mexican down to the floor below! Labertino reacts almost instantly, ducking his head to avoid the blow, and throwing his shoulder into Spike's midsection, sending the Straight-Edge Superstar packing! The Mexican with the moxie leaps onto the top rope and flies back into the safety of the ring, hitting Spike with a missile dropkick on the way! The crowd cheer wildly for the hot opening, but as they do, a clock appears on the SmarkTron and at the bottom left of the screen, counting down from ten! "TEN!" "NINE!" "EIGHT!" The two superstars in the ring begin to slug it out… "SEVEN!" "SIX!" "FIVE!" "FOUR!" During the excitement of the countdown, the fans barely notice Jenkins winning the slug fest against Labertino and rewarding himself with a Vertical Suplex. "THREE!" "TWO!" "I feel sorry for the unlucky bastard who draws number 3," King scoffs. "ONE!" … BBBBZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTT! As the clock counts down to zero, the not-so-sweet German verse of Rammstein kicks in, and Jason Von Dierch comes charging out from the back, not stopping his stride until he hits the ring! "On his way to the ring, from Hamburg, Germany, he is "The Rage" JASON VON DIERCH!" Von Dierch gets to his feet, bouncing on the balls of his feet, ready to make a splash. Unfortunately, the only one making a splash is Labertino, and it's against his will as Spike throws him over his head with a fallaway slam, and the Mexican crashes into Dierch! Dierch comes off second best as Labertino pops back to his feet, ready to fight back, but Spike is there to meet him with a lighting quick Superkick, sending Labertino towards the ropes. Dierch, getting to one knee, holding his chest, finds the Mexican stumbling towards him at the last moment and leans over… CRASH! … Throwing him over the top rope, right down to the floor! Cheers ring out as the first elimination is made, and Spike raises his arm into the air, the fans not so keen on his cocksure character! "Labertino is out!" cries King as the Mexican groans on the concrete. "He looked so promising and quick on his feet as well, but it may have been a case of too much too soon as Spike sets the Mexican in motion, and Dierch takes him airborne and out of contention!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Labertino ENTERED: 2nd LEFT: 1st ELIMINATED: Nobody ELIMINATED BY: Spike Jenkins, Jason Von Dierch LEFT IN THE RING: Spike Jenkins, Jason Von Dierch ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Spike takes sole credit for the elimination, nodding his head with approval, but his head is suddenly thrown forward as Dierch cracks him with a forearm! Two more stiff shots stagger Spike, allowing Dierch to wrap his arms around Spike's chest, linking his hands together and throwing him over, planting him on his back with a German Suplex! This gets a mixed reaction for the fans, but to Dierch it matters little as he keeps his arms linked, bringing Spike back to his feet! Spike tries to fend Dierch off with back elbows, but Jason ducks and dodges each blow! His veins bulge as he takes a deep breath, lifting the larger Jenkins up and over again, hitting a second Suplex! "Do my eyes deceive me, or is Dierch about to hit Jenkins with the ROLLING ROMMEL'S!?" "King, just because Dierch is German that doesn't make him a Nazi!" Pete replies, dumbstruck. "You'll be thinking differently when he follows up with the 'Mein Kampf Moonsault.'" "You're just making these up!" Pete's objections fall on deaf ears as Dierch lifts Spike up for a third German Suplex, but this time, Spike hooks his leg around Dierch's, blocking the move! No matter what Dierch tries, Spike holds fast, before the Straight-Edge Superstar gets behind the rookie with a standing switch, lifting him up with a German Suplex of his own! The impact of the last two suplexes causes Spike to lose his sense of balance, allowing Dierch to roll through, dragging Jenkins down with him! Dierch knows he can't pin, but hopes to buy some time as he continues rolling through, getting to his feet and leaving Spike lying on the mat. But the German is suddenly thrusted forward by Spike, who plants two feet into his lower back! The crowd rise as Dierch almost crashes over the top rope from the momentum, but manages to grab the top rope and steady himself. He breathes a big sigh of relief as he turns back around, finding Spike is already on his feet and shooting a Superkick in his direction! "Is Spike going to eliminate another man with that devastating Superkick!?" Pete cries, but that isn't the case as Dierch grabs his foot in mid-air! "EIGHT!" The sound of the countdown suddenly draws the attention of both men as they turn around and look to the entranceway, with Spike hopping on one foot. "SEVEN!" Using this distraction to his advantage, Dierch pulls Spike in closer, hooking him in place for a Fisherman's Suplex! "SIX!" With all his might, Dierch lifts Spike into the air, gritting his teeth as he tries to Suplex Jenkins over the top rope! "FIVE!" But before he reaches the apex, Spike manages to reverse the move, shifting all his weight back and tightening his grip on Dierch's neck, driving his head into the mat with a DDT! "FOUR!" "THREE!" "The action in the ring is so intense King; I almost forgot we still have 17 more men to enter!" "TWO!" "ONE!" BBBBZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTT! … BANG! A sparkling wall of blue and white pyro explodes on the entranceway as "How I Could Just Kill a Man" hits to rousing cheers from the capacity crowd! Again, Funyon is beaten to his introduction by an eager SWF superstar as Stryke comes bolting down towards the ring! "Coming in at Number 4, this is… STRYKE!" Stryke climbs to his feet, and like a starving vulture, looks to pick on the carcasses of Jenkins and Dierch, but Spike is already back on his feet and standing toe-to-toe with the long serving Australian! Spike's expression turns nasty as the crowd cheers the Australian on, but the straight-edge Superstar looks to rectify that as he throws a right hand at Stryke! "These two are no strangers to each other," Pete points out as the two trade blows in the centre of the ring, "and there's no love loss either!" BAM! A right from Spike! BAM! Stryke fires back one of his own! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! The epic battle goes back and forth, but the Australian proves to be the fresher of the two as he quickly overwhelms Spike with punches, lefts and rights, rocking him back towards the turnbuckles! With Spike backed into a corner, Stryke whips him into the opposite turnbuckles, watching him hit with a thud. The Australian follows him in with all haste, but- THWACK! -his face meets Jenkins' boot in a tremendous collision! The blow sends Stryke stumbling backward like a drunkard, allowing Spike to 'strike' at his incapacitated opponent, bounding forward with awesome speed and crashing into the Australian with a devastating Lariat! The crowd cringes at the blow delivered as Spike picks himself up off the canvas, almost tipping over after the constant blows to the head. The straight-edge superstar can't even rest a single second as Dierch finds his way over to Jenkins, latching onto his neck with an inverted face lock! "Dierch must still be feeling that DDT from Spike, and wants to repay the favor!" "… With interest!" King cries, totally unnecessary. "Thanks for your input," Pete's condescending reply is ignored by King as Dierch tries to take hold of Spike's arm and pull him down towards the canvas, but the wily Jenkins knows many counters and replies with one, contorting his body around and grabbing Dierch around the waistline, ready to take him over in a Suplex, Northern Lights style! As he lifts the German from the canvas, his legs pointing out into the crowd, Jenkins suddenly runs forward, throwing Dierch over the top rope! Spike turns his attention back to Stryke, dusting his hands to the crowd, playing them like a fiddle, but he suddenly stops. Jenkins hears the fans cheer, but he doesn't hear that "wham" sound; the nice one where the human body hits concrete padding. He turns back around to investigate… … Only to walk straight into a spear through the middle rope from Von Dierch! Spike suddenly has a feeling of deja vu as he clutches his ribs, but without warning he finds the canvas nine feet below him as Stryke lifts him up for an Electric Chair Drop! "Spike's made a lot of enemies in that ring tonight…" Pete says as Stryke sways left and right, finally finding his footing, just in time for Dierch to leap onto the top rope and propel himself towards Jenkins, crashing into his chest and crushing him into the canvas below with a seated senton! "… and now they're working together to take him down!" "If Spike wants to be low-key in this match and last as long as he has to, he better cut out that arrogant attitude," King notes, "especially when he hasn't earned it." The Australian and the German both look at each other, then down at the groaning Jenkins. They both form the same idea, grabbing Spike as he groggily climbs back to his feet and shoot him into the furthest ropes. Spike shakes his head in horror as he returns against his will to the intercontinental alliance, before being lifted into the air against his will- WHAM! -and having the air driven right out of him from a vicious double Powerbomb! A hearty laugh is heard from the Suicide King as Dierch leans down and mocks Jenkins, uttering expletives in German, which are translated into English via subtitles for the people at home. Dierch suddenly perks up as he hears the fans begin to chant- "TEN!" "NINE!" "EIGHT!" "SEVEN!" "We're about to have the fifth entrant join us, and possibly have the first leave us as Spike is easy pickings!" "SIX!" "FIVE!" "FOUR!" "When isn't he, though?" King answers with a chuckle. "THREE!" "TWO!" "ONE!" BBBBZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTT! As soon as the buzzer is heard, the house lights begin to fade, and strobe lights pulse with the beat of Mastadon's "Crusher Destroyer!" The arrival of Manson herald's a showering of jeers for the big man, but he just snidely grins as he storms down the ramp. "From Denver Colorado, he is MANSON!" With the lights still dim, Stryke preys on his German counterpart and former ally, lifting him up into a Fireman's carry! As Manson lumbers down towards the ring, pulling himself up onto the apron, Stryke begins to dance around the ring much to the crowd's delight, sending Von Dierch into a tizzy in the Airplane Spin! Stryke spies Manson out of the corner of his eye and brings Dierch over to the ropes, swinging him like a human 2x4 towards Manson's head! Somehow, the 260 pound Manson ducks below the pendulum that nearly eliminates him, and sends a stiff elbow shot towards Stryke's face! Now Stryke is the one in a tizzy as he stumbles back towards the centre of the ring and Dierch manages to pry himself free from his grasp! As he falls to the mat, Dierch grabs hold of Stryke's shoulder with both hands and digs his feet into his chest, falling to the canvas and flipping Stryke over in a monkey flip! Dierch is disheartened when he sees the Australian lands on his feet- BAM! -but suddenly feels much better when he sees Spike blindside him with a "LARIATOOOO!" King cries as the crowd gasp from the sickening impact. "Finally, someone I can actually get behind! Manson's raring to go, and you just know he's going to use his superior size and strength to manhandle these punks, and someone's going to die in his arms tonight!" "Manson is a… Wait, did you just quote Meatloaf?" "It's just your imagination." "…Manson's a grizzled veteran who's no stranger to the Clusterfuck," Pete replies as he watches the bulky brute climb into the ring, setting his sights on Stryke, "but he's never made an impact. This time around, he's one of the largest men in this match, and will have the experience needed to really create some havoc!" Unfortunately for Stryke, Pete's words ring true as Manson lifts the Aussie to his feet, drawing back his perhaps steroid-infused arm and- CRACK! WHOOOOOO! -bringing it down across Stryke's pale chest with a knife-edge chop! CRACK! WHOOOOOO! With only two chops, Manson leaves Stryke's chest beet red! The lumbering brute claws at Stryke's face as he pushes him into the turnbuckles, mocking Stryke and the crowd as he rears back, ready for a third chop, but Stryke darts forward, taking advantage of Manson's stalling with a knee to the midsection! "Well, two out of three ain't bad," King laments as Stryke answers with a flurry of knife-edge chops of his own. While the crowd woo's in the background, Dierch has Jenkins in the opposite corner as is unloading with a vicious streak of forearms. The German begins to feel the confidence flow as he rears back and kicks Spike in the kidney, not once, but twice! He tries for a third time- RRRAAAAAHHHH! -but Spike catches his leg in a vice-like grip! Dierch hops on one foot, shaking his head at the Straight-Edge Superstar, but Jenkins stalks forward, grins wily, sweeping Dierch's still standing leg out from under him! Spike now grabs both of Dierch's legs, looking over his shoulder towards the ropes behind him and forming a devious plan. As Manson unleashes a quartet of European Uppercuts, Spike leans back slowly, peeling Dierch off the canvas as the fans almost miss the Clusterfuck clock counting down! "EIGHT!" As Spike hits the mat, the German is suddenly catapulted towards the ropes! "SEVEN!" Dierch flies over the top rope, but on the way, grabs onto the top rope for dear life! "SIX!" The German lands safely on the ring apron, taking a moment to hug the bottom rope for some urgently needed rest! "FIVE!" "Spike almost had Dierch that time, but no dice!" Pete excitedly cries as Spike looks around at Dierch, mouth agape, shouting "Oh, COME ON!" "FOUR!" "THREE!" "These men will do absolutely anything to stay in this match, and you can't keep your eyes off them for even a second!" "TWO!" "With entrants flowing in like uninvited drunken uncles, I'm not surprised if they do! But who's drawn number six?" "ONE!" BBBBZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTT! Once again, the lights begin to dim as King utters under his breath, "soooo played out." They don't stay dim for long however as Christian Fury charges out from the back, making a beeline straight for the ring! "Entering the Clusterfuck at number six… CHRISTIAN FURY!" "It's Fury, King! The recent returnee will no doubt want to make the biggest return of all, winning the Clusterfuck! Although, he fell short on Smarkdown losing the annual mini 'fuck, he'll be fired up tonight!" "Did that match even go to air?" King wonder with a raised brow. "Let's just pretend it did," Pete whispers to his partner as Fury slides into the ring, immediately nailing Spike Jenkins with right hands! The crowd loves a good comeback story and cheer raucously for Fury as he knocks Jenkins down with a clothesline! "Fury's already made an impact with some 'furious' offense!" "Don't you start!" objects King as Spike climbs back to a vertical base, only to be taken off it once again by a spinning heel kick from Fury! The reformed Clan member feels invigorated as he takes Spike and whips him into the turnbuckles, crashing into his rib cage with a shoulder charge! Spike begins to wonder what every has against his midsection as Dierch gets to his feet after his brief respite, finding everyone at war with each other as Fury continues to drive the air out of Spike with his shoulder, and Manson takes Stryke over with a hip toss. Manson flexes to the crowd, reveling in the uproar from the crowd, but the tide soon turns as Dierch surprises the big man as he turns around, dropping his head down onto his shoulder with a jawbreaker! The impact still isn't enough to topple Manson, so Dierch tries another angle of attack, hitting the ropes behind Manson and clipping him on the back of the knee with a chop block! Manson STILL won't go down as Dierch gets to his feet, looking at the veteran in horror. Now, Stryke gets to his feet, looking at Manson, and then at the rookie. Dierch hopes a barrage of German obscenities somehow makes his opponent submit, but Manson and Stryke both shake their heads at each other… BAM! … Before lifting Dierch into the air and driving him into the centre of the ring with a double Spinebuster! "It seems an unholy alliance is being formed as two of the longest serving veterans in this match team together to take down the young rookie, Dierch!" "And it's about time I say!" King shouts in reply. "No one's ever given Manson the respect he deserves, and Stryke came so close to the final three in 2004, only to be taken out by a young Mike Van Siclen. They're old, they're bitter, and now someone's going to pay!" "You took the words right out of my mouth, King." "NOW who's quoting Meatloaf!?" King shouts at Pete, who just sighs and shakes his head as Dierch scampers over to the corner, seeking the sanctuary of the ropes, but Manson easily brings him to his feet. Manson doesn't even need to confer with Stryke as he whips the unlucky Rookie across the ring towards the Australian, who blatantly shows off to the crowd, leaping into the air and catching Dierch with an enziguri on his way through! The German rookie groans, looking to Stryke for mercy, but the Australian will hear none of it, jumping onto Dierch's chest and perhaps crushing several vital organs with a double stomp! Manson, for once, applauds Stryke, who takes a bow as the crowd cheers, but Manson is itching for some battle and blindsides Fury as he wails on Spike, clubbing him in the back with a forearm! Again, the clock begins to count down! "TEN!" "NINE!" "EIGHT!" Stryke lifts Dierch to his feet, but the German just collapses to the mat, gasping for air! "SEVEN!" "SIX!" "The rings really beginning to fill up now, King," Pete tells his cohort, "and that means there's danger from all sides for the people in there!" "FIVE!" "FOUR!" Staggering around the squared circle, Dierch is suddenly caught up with by Stryke, who peppers him with right hand blows to the temple. "THREE!" "TWO!" "That's just the way I like it, Pete. What would be a Clusterfuck without an actual Clusterfuck?" "ONE!" BBBBZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTT! … The unmistakable sound of… weird robot music begins to play as Chris Belcourt comes out, pushing a dolly with none other than Ghost Machine! "Coming in at number 7, he's… its GHOST MACHINE!" Belcourt actually receives some cheers, and he hesitantly waves to the crowd as he returns to the back, while Ghost is left standing on the dolly, motionless. Belcourt pokes his head around the corner, and sighs as he trudges back out to find out what the problem is. Despite not having a degree in engineering or bio/robot mechanics, Belcourt finds the source of the problem and smacks Machine a few times upside the head, and he suddenly kicks into life! Unfortunately, Ghost's programming sees this as a sign of aggression and backhands Belcourt in the face. "That's our Ghost Machine!" shouts King, shrugging to the camera with a helpless expression as the Machine reaches down, squirting some oil into his joints to loosen them up. The robot/human debate is heard amongst the fans once again as Ghost jobs down to the ring. At the same time, as Manson dukes it out with Fury, clubbing the returnee over the head and Spike takes a well earned sabbatical in the turnbuckles, Stryke pushes Dierch into the ropes and then yanks him towards the opposite strands, lowering his head as he readies to back body drop him on his return! …But Dierch never makes it back, because as Ghost Machine places his hands on the top rope to pull himself onto the apron, he low bridges the German and causes him to topple over the rope and collapse to the floor! RRRRRRAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! "RAH." Ghost Machine yells, imitating the crowd in his staticy, robotic voice while spontaneously dancing the robot. "Dierch's OUT!" Pete suddenly cries as the fans roar to life. "The rookie hung in there with the experience Jenkins, Stryke and Manson, but ultimately, it was Ghost Machine who was his undoing!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Jason Von Dierch ENTERED: 3rd LEFT: 2nd ELIMINATED: Labertino (w/ Spike Jenkins) ELIMINATED BY: Stryke (w/ Robot assistance) LEFT IN THE RING: Spike Jenkins, Stryke, Manson, Christian Fury, Ghost Machine ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Stryke looks down at the mat, wondering why it's taken so long for Dierch to return. He gazes up only to find Dierch out, and Ghost Machine in his place! "That was ALL Ghost Machine!" King proudly boasts as Dierch slams his fist on the concrete in anger, which only adds to his misfortune. "My mechanical man foils the Nazi's plan for domination, and now looks to put his stamp on this match!" "Do you realize how ridiculous that sounded?" Spike drapes himself across the top turnbuckle, composing himself after the workout he's been given early on, but suddenly, Manson appears on the scene, crashing into him from behind! The big man attempts to lift Spike over the top rope, but he clings on for dear life, slinking his legs around the top rope like a grapevine! While Spike struggles to survive, Ghost Machine lumbers forward, kicking his leg up as best he can, but Stryke ducks and avoids a Big Boot! Ghost suddenly experiences an unhandled exception as Stryke preys on him from behind, wrapping his arms all the way around his throat and falling face first to the mat, driving the could-be Robot down with a Sleeper Drop! The crowd celebrates the downfall of the robot villain and applauds Stryke, but that lasts about two seconds as Fury nails Stryke with an elbow to the head! With Stryke stunned just enough, Fury grabs him by the arm and whips him out, then back in short arm style, lifting him up into a Back Drop Suplex position! Fury takes a few awkward steps backward, attempting to dump Stryke unceremoniously over the top rope, but the Australian sees the top rope just within his grasp, and clings onto it while still being held upside down! Fury finally releases him, but Stryke uses the ropes to come down onto the ring apron safely! Fury hears the sound of boot on apron and suddenly swings his arm around, trying to clobber Stryke down onto the floor, but the Aussie drops back first onto the canvas, grabbing Fury and taking his legs out from underneath him! "There's no time to be complacent or ponder your last move because there will always be someone there to stab you in the back!" Pete yells as Stryke rolls under the bottom rope, thanking whatever higher power saved him, while Fury nurses a bloody nose. Just as it seems he may be in the clear, the Australian lets out a disappointed sigh as he hears the fans cry- "TEN!" "NINE!" "… And even if you manage to survive," King replies, "your odds only get worse every two minutes!" "EIGHT!" "SEVEN!" "SIX!" Manson finally gives up on the cunning Spike, who drops to the mat and holds onto the bottom rope, his struggle to stay in the match taking a lot out of him. "FIVE!" "FOUR!" "THREE!" Stryke and Manson find each other from the far corners of the ring, but a slight nod of acknowledgement is shared, and the two turn to the entranceway to see who the next competitor will be. "TWO!" "ONE!" BBBBZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTT! The two old SWF mainstays look up as a disco ball descends from the ceiling and through the P.A, KC and the Sunshine Bands "I'm Your Boogie Man" kicks up its funky tune! "From Newark, New Jersey, he is THE 70'S DUDE!" "And it's ANOTHER new addition to the SWF Family, the 70's Dude!" Pete shouts, before swallowing hard as he watching Manson and Stryke stand side by side, waiting for the dancing fool to hit the ring. "I don't like the look of this, King. Stryke and Manson have already dealt violently with one rookie; imagine what they'll do with a man from a 'rival' federation!" "Rival federation? Which one is it!?" King asks, tugging on Pete's shirt as the 70's Dude comes striding out, slobbily dancing his way down the aisle. Pete whispers into his partner's ear, "Oh, THAT rival federation." As Pete and King leave the fans at home bewildered, the 70's Dude slides into the ring and picks his overweight self off the canvas… WHAM! … only to be knocked straight back down on his behind as Manson and Stryke team up and hit him with a double clothesline! "It would be an absolute embarrassment for a wrestler from a rival federation to waltz in here and win the Clusterfuck," Pete notes grimly, "and the 70's Dude has a big chance, considering he's such a big, big man." "Oh very cute," King grunts in retort, "but the fact is, the 70's Dude is now OUR 70's Dude, and I'd be proud to have him win." The overweight, self-proclaimed chick magnet begs for Stryke and Manson to, "Have MERCY!" The veterans smile down at the former rival star, and the 70's Dude, for a moment, breathes a huge sigh of relief. Then, their expressions change, and they pull the 70's dude back onto his feet! WHAM! Manson with a right hand! WHAM! Stryke with one of his own! WHAM! "Now they're just having fun!" Pete shouts as the two shares the blows around, each one trying to hit the retro wrestler harder than the other. WHAM! "I take it back. I'd be proud if he actually got some offense in," King responds, cringing as the 70's Dude is battered towards the ropes. The assault finally ceases, but Manson is relentless as he whips the Dude into the opposite ropes. The cables almost snap under the Dude's weight as he's propelled back against his will, and is suddenly snatched up into a sidewalk slam position! Manson doesn't even need to ask before Stryke is on the scene, grabbing the Dude in an inverted facelock as the two drop to the mat without warning- BAM! -hitting a Diving Reverse DDT and Sidewalk Slam combo! Manson and Stryke get back to their feet, cheers ringing out in the Staples Centre, and Stryke acknowledges the crowd, raising his fist towards the sky! Manson, on the other hand, just looks dumbstruck, remembering the last time he got cheered, about two years ago now. The celebration suddenly grinds to a halt as Fury thumps Manson in the spine with a Dropkick, and Spike's boot smacks into Stryke's face as he pivots around, hitting a teeth shattering Yazuka Kick! "It's the same old story," King says, "just when it seems Manson and Stryke, now on the same page, would begin to dominate, Fury and Spike, cowardly biding their time, strike from behind!" "Well they only have themselves to-" "TEN!" -blame! And here's come entrant number 9, and the talent keeps on coming!" "NINE!" "EIGHT!" "SEVEN!" Fury and Spike pay no attention to the clock, as they have a lot on their plate already! "SIX!" "FIVE!" "FOUR!" "THREE!" "TWO!" While in the corner, Ghost Machine begins to reboot… "ONE!" BBBBZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTT! The familiar sound of hands clapping and feet stamping shakes the foundation of the Staples Center as the bass is cranked to the max, and OK Go's "Get Over It" hits! "From Hollywood, California, he is WES DAVENPORT!" "Pete," King remarks, leaning over to his partner, "I thought you said the talent keeps on coming." "Har, har," Longdogger replies sarcastically, "you may mock him, but he did defeat Wildchild on Smarkdown, and comes into this match on a HELL of a roll!" A spotlight comes shining down at the entrance as Wes Davenport saunters out from the back, bringing with him a broad, toothy grin! The spotlight begins to speed up as it follows nothing down the aisle, expecting the actor to come charging down to the ring, but it suddenly returns to Davenport who stands triumphantly on centre stage, basking in the crowd's reception! "Oh, and just as I thought, he's afraid to get in the ring!" King shouts, shaking his fist at the actor. "Get the camera off this jackass and get back to the action in the ring!" The production manager bends to the will of the King as we follow Fury in the ring, not backing down to the immense strength of Manson and taking the fight to him with right hand blows! Fury finally rears back as he knocks Manson towards the ropes, and explodes at him with a stinging elbow strike- WHOOOOOSH -but Manson ducks! The agile big man leans back, bringing his arm back before clotheslining Fury over the top rope as he turns back around! The crowd gasps, but Fury lands safely on the ring apron! Manson grunts as he begins stomping on the returnee and driving his boot into his face, trying to pry him away from the bottom rope, but Fury clings! Finally Davenport reaches the ringside area, but upon seeing the carnage in the ring, decides to take a stroll around the outside, greeting the fans! Manson grumbles as he backs away from Fury, seeing Spike wail on his temporary ally in the corner, but is suddenly struck in the side of the head with a shotei from the formerly absent Ghost Machine! Ghost doesn't stop as he hits Manson with shotei after shotei, backing him into a corner! "He's stuck in an infinite loop!" King shouts. "Oh you have got to be kidding me…" Finally, Wes Davenport climbs onto the ring apron, surveying the area as he finally feels confident of his chances. Stryke, after leaving Spike a bruised mess in the corner, picks Fury's carcass up off the mat and sends him into the ropes, and right into the path of the actor! "Hah, Serves him right!" King yells in amusement as Davenport hits the concrete floor. As Fury returns, stunned by the collision, Stryke catches him with a boot to the stomach and hooks him in for a Suplex! The Australian heaves Fury up completely vertical, but Fury begins to struggle, kicking his legs furiously! Stryke, accounting for this, simply throws Fury forward, dropping his legs across the top rope. As Fury springs back up from the momentum generated, Stryke throws him forward once again, but this time- CCCRRRRAAASSSHHHHH! -he throws him all the way over the top rope, right on top of Davenport! "Beautiful move from the Australian!" an excited Pete proclaims as Christian and Wes lick their wounds on the outside. "Stryke takes out two birds with one stone…" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Christian Fury ENTERED: 6th LEFT: 3rd ELIMINATED: No one. ELIMINATED BY: Stryke LEFT IN THE RING: Spike Jenkins, Stryke, Manson, Ghost Machine, The 70's Dude …Left outside the ring: Wes Davenport ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "…but there's no time waste, because here comes the countdown!" "TEN!" "NINE!" "EIGHT!" "SEVEN!" Stryke looks for another victim, feeling his chances of winning growing, but as he leans down to pick The 70's Dude up… "SIX!" … he gets an eye rake from the irate dude! "FIVE!" Stryke tries to get revenge with a stiff forearm blow… "FOUR!" … but the Dude goes low, VERY low, hitting the lowest of low blows on the Aussie! "THREE!" "TWO!" "ONE!" BBBBZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTT! … OH NO! As Nate Dogg is heard, pyro EXPLODES at the entrance, preceding the arrival of none other than… "TODD CORTEZ!" shouts Pete as the Los Angeles fans EXPLODE also! "Oh my lord, what a dream it would be for Cortez, winning the Clusterfuck and getting a shot at the World Heavyweight Title!" "Entering the Clusterfuck at number ten, here is TODD CORTEZ!" Cortez, unlike Davenport who still groans on the outside, rushes down to the ring as quickly as he can! Sliding into the ring, he immediately makes a beeline for the nearest man he can find, which happens to be a certain robot! Manson is silently thankful for Cortez as he jabs Ghost in the face, knocking him slowly towards the ropes. Ghost's system is stuck on a loading screen, giving Cortez enough time to charge headlong across the squared circle- BAM! … WHAM! -spearing Ghost Machine in the side, tackling him into and OVER the top rope to the floor! "Ghost's been eliminated!" Pete cries. Ghost Machine ENTERED: 7th LEFT: 4th ELIMINATED: Jason Von Dierch (/w Stryke) ELIMINATED BY: Todd Cortez LEFT IN THE RING: Spike Jenkins, Stryke, Manson, The 70's Dude, Todd Cortez …Still outside the ring: Wes Davenport "Todd Cortez has sent a clear message to the rest of his Clusterfuck competitors," Longdogger cries, "eliminating Ghost Machine with the Hollow Point after less than a minute in the ring!" "Cortez got lucky," King replies, mourning the loss of his favorite robot, "but I have a feeling his luck is about to run out!" King's prediction soon comes to a head as Manson thanks Cortez for dragging Ghost Machine away, nailing him with a stiff clothesline, but Spike is on the scene once again, leaping onto Manson and latching onto his neck, twisting around and planting him with a Tornando DDT! As Manson and Spike stare up at the arena light, on the opposite side of the ring, the 70's dude releases his frustrations, sexual and otherwise, out on Stryke, jabbing him with lefts and rights, backing him into the corner! The 70's slob begins thrusting in the Aussie's general direction, which Stryke finds disgusting more so than insulting, and answers it with a poke to the eye, prompting cheers from the crowd! They're suddenly broken however as they chant with the clock! "SIX!" "He can't do that!" King says, up in arms. "The 70's dude did NOT deserve… ok, even I don't believe what I'm saying now." "FIVE!" "Don't worry, no one else does either," Pete answers with a sly grin as Stryke comes out of the corner to exact his revenge, only to be taken down with a knee to the stomach from the 70's Dude! "FOUR!" "After Manson and Stryke's onslaught, the dude is throwing everything, including 'the kitchen sink' at his opponent!" "THREE!" "Hey, Pete, Comet called, he wants his lame puns back." "TWO!" "Hey, King, Bill Fillmaff called, he wants his gimmick back." "ONE!" "… that's cold you son-of-a-bitch." BBBBZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTT! The loud buzzer fades out into poor quality, mono, electronic Street Fighter music, and Matt Myers comes out from the back, shocking everyone in attendance, nay, the world… "Ladies and Gentleman, entrant 11 in the Clusterfuck, this is MATT… E. HONDA… MYERS!" "He's not even cosplaying as E. Honda!" yells an outraged Dogger, "he's just wearing a damn fat suit!" "I never thought I'd utter these words, but…" King's lips tremble, "this is GENIUS!" "Don't say that." "Well, it is! Myers puts on a fat suit, making him extremely difficult to eliminate!" Even Pete has to concede that point as Myers walks, make that wobbles, down the aisle towards the ring, while Davenport FINALLY slides underneath the bottom rope, making his official entrance in the Clusterfuck! The actor, unfortunately, slides in right under the nose of Todd Cortez, who says hello with an elbow drop across his back. As Jenkins embarks on an impossible mission to push Manson over the top through sheer willpower alone, and Cortez lifts Davenport to his feet, chopping away at the tall timber, the 70's Dude double underhooks Stryke's arms! The Aussie narrowly avoids the DDT that would inevitably follow, doubling the funky fat man over with a shot to the kidneys. The 70's Dude stumbles precariously close to the ropes and before he has a chance to recover, Stryke lets fly with a wild clothesline that sends the 70's Dude over the top rope… … but he lands safely on the ring apron as he catches hold of the cables! The Dude climbs to his feet, getting assistance from the ropes as he hears the crowd boo, and starts dancing to further annoy them! Stryke just shakes his head as he runs over to the side of the ring, past Cortez and Davenport who trade stiff shots, jumping onto the second rope and turning around in mid-air, hitting the Dude with a springboard missile dropkick that sends him off the apron and into the railing! "Stryke's eliminated another!" cries Pete as fans at ringside taunt the 70's Dude, and Stryke quietly goes about his business, satisfied. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The 70's Dude ENTERED: 8th LEFT: 5th ELIMINATED: No one. ELIMINATED BY: Stryke LEFT IN THE RING: Spike Jenkins, Stryke, Manson, Todd Cortez, Wes Davenport, Matt Myers ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "TEN!" As the countdown is heard, Myers, who's bided his time, and sweated like a pig in his suit, attempts to slide underneath the bottom rope, but gets his suit snagged between the apron and the rope! "NINE!" "EIGHT!" "SEVEN!" "SIX!" "FIVE!" "FOUR!" "THREE!" "TWO!" "ONE!" BBBBZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTT! It's time for a little feminine addition as David Bowie's "China Girl" plays, and out comes Candace Okimura! "From Tokyo, Japan," Funyon booms, "this is CANDACE OKIMURA!" The plucky Japanese beauty charges down to the ring, Frisco nowhere to be seen. As she hits the ring, she meets Spike Jenkins whose now on his feet after delivering that devastating DDT on Manson, but Okimura overwhelms him with kicks, the Joshi Dragon full of beans, while Jenkins is almost running on empty! Cortez, meanwhile, lifts Davenport up and drops him down on his knee with an inverted Atomic Drop! Davenport howls with pain as he inspects his family jewels, happy to still have them, but his expression sours again when Cortez grabs him around the neck in an inverted facelock, pulling him down onto his knee, locking in the Dragon Sleeper! As Davenport thrashes about wildly, Stryke simply runs over and jumps on top of him, planting both feet into his ribcage with a double stomp! The fans, all their favorites fighting one another, just cheer constantly as Cortez climbs to his feet, lifting Stryke up as he turns around, and dropping HIM on his exposed knee! Cortez attempts to whip the Aussie into the turnbuckles, but it's easily reversed, and the former Tag Champ smacks into the corner. Stryke follows in hot pursuit, leaping into the air and landing on Todd with a stinger splash! Holding his head and grunting rather a lot, Manson finds the 136 pound Okimura kick the life out of Jenkins, and chuckles to himself as he puts his big hand on her shoulder- *DING!* -but she instantly replies with a mule kick, hitting Manson in the nether regions! With Spike incapacitated, Okimura picots around and leaps vertically, latching onto Manson's injured neck, ready to take him over with a Hurricanrana! Manson, angry that his manhood was almost taken from him, grabs Okimura by the waist, slowly but surely taking her over towards the ropes! "Okimura may have bitten off more than she can chew," Dogger says, "and now finds herself in a VERY dangerous position!" "Hey, I think we'd ALL Powerbomb a woman who threatened our manhood, Pete." "How many is it for you now?" "Fifteen." The big man is suddenly struck with rapid-fire punches form Okimura, trying desperately to keep her chances alive! As Manson is stunned and loosens his grip slightly, Candace suddenly flips off his shoulders, trying to send him over the top rope with a flying headscissors, but Manson plants his front foot forward, blocking the move and letting Okimura dangle over the top rope! At the same precise moment, Stryke grabs Manson's legs and heaves him upward, double leg takedown style… WHAM! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Candace Okimura ENTERED: 12th LEFT: 6th ELIMINATED: No one. ELIMINATED BY: Stryke LEFT IN THE RING: Spike Jenkins, Stryke, Manson, Todd Cortez, Wes Davenport, Matt Myers ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ … WHHHAAAAAMMMMMM! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Manson ENTERED: 5th LEFT: 7th ELIMINATED: No one. ELIMINATED BY: Stryke LEFT IN THE RING: Spike Jenkins, Stryke, Todd Cortez, Wes Davenport, Matt Myers ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! … sending both Manson and Okimura plunging to the floor below! "OH MY GOD!" cries Pete, struggling to find the words. "Stryke just eliminated both Candace Okimura AND Manson in one fell swoop!" "Shenanigans!" protests King, banging his fist on the desk. "Manson was SCREWED! Stryke turned around and stabbed him in the back after Manson was kind enough to carry Stryke through this match!" The crowd can't believe their eyes as officials come over to check on Okimura's condition, as she was unfortunate enough to have Manson land directly on top of her. Manson, wondering why his fall was such a soft one, ignores all this and cries foul at Stryke, who just smiles and shrugs! The commotion in the ring distracts the fans in the Staples Centre, until they see the clock wind down! "FOUR!" "THREE!" "TWO!" "ONE!" BBBBZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTT! As the buzzer screeches, Disturbed's "I'm Alive" blasts through the speakers, heralding the arrival of… "From Brunswick, Georgia, coming in at lucky 13, this is KEVIN COYOTE!" The rookie receives nothing short of a hostile welcome as he jogs out from the back, still chatting on his cell phone! "…Yeah, last night was off the hook. Anyway, girl, I gotta go, I'm about do this Clusterfuck thing… yeah, for real girl, turn on the Pay Per View!" Coyote tosses his cell phone to the production manager as he charges down the aisle, winking to the camera on his way down. Just as hits the ringside area, Cortez grabs Stryke by the back of the head and sends him SAILING over the top rope! The crafty Australian manages to hold on to the top rope, but Cortez is already thinking two moves ahead as he shuffles forward- SMACK! -and sends Stryke off the ring apron and down- CRACK! -towards Manson, who swings a steel chair at Stryke and smatters it across his skull on the way down! Coyote watches all this unfold in front of him, and a lump can clearly be seen in his throat at he fans chant- HOLY - SHIT! HOLY – SHIT! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Stryke ENTERED: 4th LEFT: 8th ELIMINATED: Jason Von Dierch (w/ Robot assistance, The 70's Dude, Candace Okimura, Manson ELIMINATED BY: Todd Cortez LEFT IN THE RING Spike Jenkins, Todd Cortez, Wes Davenport, Matt Myers, Kevin Coyote ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Holy shit is RIGHT!" exclaims Pete as Manson tosses the chair aside and calmly walks down the aisle, making small children cry as he goes. "Only moments after his amazing eliminations, Cortez congratulated him STREET style with a Superkick, eliminating HIM and sending him to his fate at the hands of Manson!" "… And now Cortez is taking a quick breather, STREET STYLE!" "Are you mocking me?" An excited buzz is heard throughout the crowd as medical staff surrounds Stryke and Coyote hits the ring, while Myers finally squeezes under the bottom rope. When Davenport finally feels he's rid the constant harassment, and the stomach stomping, Coyote drops on top of him, punching him RIGHT in the gut! The actor groans as the relentless Coyote goes to work, while Myers gets to his feet, panting and sweating profusely. He quickly finds Spike; only now recovering from Okimura's debilitating strikes. The Cosplay Master sets out to prove just why they call him that, as well as insane nerd, as he slaps Jenkins across the face, shoulder, neck, armpit, waist, everywhere! "Matt now channels the spirit of HONDA with the THOUSAND HAND SLAP!" shouts Pete, pausing, wondering what the hell he just said, as the countdown begins again. "EIGHT!" "NOW who sounds ridiculous?" answers King with a smirk as Myers tries to whip Jenkins across the ring, but the suit only grants him incredible girth, not incredible power as Jenkins reverses it! "SEVEN!" "SIX!" The Cosplay Master bounds across the ring, but suddenly finds Cortez resting in his destination! Leaping into the air in a magical sight, Myers, fat suit and all, comes crashing down on Cortez with an avalanche splash! "FIVE!" "FOUR!" At the last moment, Cortez dodges… "THREE!" … And Myers wedges himself against the turnbuckles and top ropes! "This is the result of pure GENIUS!" Pete yells, nudging his partner as Spike sprints forward, leaping onto the second rope out to the side, shooting himself towards Myers- "TWO!" "ONE!" SMACK! BBBBZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTT! -and hitting him in the back of the head with the Dangerous Wizard! The blow knocks Myers back as he rolls off the ring post and lands on the floor below! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Matt "E. Honda" Myers ENTERED: 11th LEFT: 9th ELIMINATED: Are you kidding? ELIMINATED BY: Spike Jenkins LEFT IN THE RING: Spike Jenkins, Todd Cortez, Wes Davenport, Kevin Coyote ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The fans are a mix of raucous laughter and vocal cheers as Myers rolls about on the concrete, unable to get up! No one seems able, or wants to help because suddenly- "EVERYBODY DANCE NOW!" -C&C Music Factory's "Gonna Make You Sweat" BLARES through the speakers! "It's the evil arch-villain himself, the Crimson Skull!" Pete cries, feeling more and more ridiculous by the minute as six busty women in glittering outfits run out, bumping and grinding for no particular reason, and the Crimson Skull runs past all of them towards the ring! "Please welcome, now residing in Kiev, Ukraine, the one, the only, the CRIMSON SKULL!" Inside that very ring, Spike is caught completely by surprise as Cortez doubles him over with a set of martial arts kicks, winding the Straight-Edge Superstar, before sending him barreling into the ropes. On Spike's return, Cortez snares him up, lifting him into the air with Spinebuster! "Spike's been in that ring for up to half an hour," notes Pete, "and has, by and large avoided conflict, but now Cortez has caught him, ready to deliver the Sitout Spinebuster!" …But Jenkins, crafty enough to last this long in the 'Fuck, counters with a Mongolian Chop! As Skull enters through the ropes, Spike backs into them, knocking the Super Villain off balance with a back elbow and over the top rope, but he lands on the apron! Spike builds up some momentum as he pirouettes gracefully- BAM! -but not so gracefully smacks Cortez in the jaw with a Roaring Elbow! Todd stumbles backward, losing his senses for a moment as Davenport climbs to his feet after Coyote's assault. Coyote, on the other hand, ambushes Spike with a kamikaze-esque spear! Acting on instinct as Cortez runs into him, Wes lifts him up onto his shoulders in the Torture Rack position, but instead of stretching out the former Tag Champion… OOOOOOOHHHHHH …he FLIPS him out, tossing him high over the top rope, as Cortez tries desperately to grab onto the cable… YYYEEEEAAAAAAHH-

FADE IN "It's just about time for the International Championship match," says Longdogger Pete, "and King, the animosity has been building between these two ever since they faced off in a Triple Threat match for the International Title earlier this year, but you could even make the case that the foundation for this match was laid back around Halloween!" "Well, Wildchild did, in fact, have a chance to wrestle against Jay Hawke for the International Title a few months ago, and surprisingly got the better of it," concedes the Suicide King. "It was only due to the interference of Wildchild's former partner Johnny Dangerous that Wildchild failed to leave with the International Title that night… But this match is going to be totally different from the match back on Halloween!" "Care to elaborate, King?" "Well," explains King, "for starters, Wildchild was able to succeed in catching Jay Hawke off guard by deviating from his regular moveset; unless he plans to channel some other wrestling legend tonight, I don't see any way that Wildchild will be able to get the better of the Dean of Professional Wrestling. Jay's been in a number of matches by now, and he's had the opportunity to study his moves; he knows what his weak points are, as well as how to take his strengths away from him… I expect this to be a wrestling clinic, with Jay Hawke coming out on top!" "I was waiting for you to bring that up," says Pete. "Because Wildchild and Jay Hawke have indeed wrestled several times, but Jay Hawke has never actually defeated Wildchild, King! In all the times that these two have been in the ring against each other, Hawke has never beaten Wildchild or made him submit, and I can't help but wonder whether or not that's weighing on the back of Jay's mind?" "Well, it's rare for a challenger to have a mental edge over a champion, especially when a champion is as dominant as Jay Hawke has been," counters King. "Jay has turned away so many challengers, that I really don't think he has any doubts about whether or not he's up to defeating Wildchild. I mean, Wildchild has proven to just about everybody that he can press anybody to the limit, but he's still known primarily as a tag team wrestler, I think. He's had some singles success in the past, but he has yet to prove that he can consistently compete against the level of competition that he's about to throw himself into." "I would argue that the longest-ever Hardcore title reign to date is a little better than 'some' singles success, King," says LDP. "This ain't the Hardcore Division, MacDougal!" replies King. "You can't win a title by hitting somebody with a chair; you actually have to know more than a hold or two. Wildchild is trying to work the figure four into his arsenal, and I've seen him hit suplex every once in a blue moon, but he's going to have to try and outwrestle Jay Hawke, and if his history is any indication, he's not going to be able to get the job done!" "I think that the individual that's able to control the tempo of the match is going to walk out of here with the gold," says Pete. "Obviously, if Jay Hawke is able to control the pace of the match, things are likely to go in his favor, but if Wildchild is able to keep the match at a high tempo, we could very well see history made here tonight in Los Angeles!" "Not going to happen!" refutes King. "Jay Hawke hasn't held onto the International Title for over two hundred days without knowing how to control the pace of a match. Mark my words, MacDougal: when it's all said and done with, the guy walking out of here with the belt is going to be the same guy who walked in with it!" "And on that note," says Pete, "let's send you up to Funyon in the ring!" DING! DING! DING! "The following contest," booms Funyon, "is for… the INTERNATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP, and it is scheduled for ONE fall!" The Staples Center then erupts as Mystikal's "Bouncin' Back" begins to play: YEAAAAAAAAAAH! "YOU KEEP BUMPIN' ME AGAINST THE WALL! YEAH, I KNOW I LET YOU SLIDE BEFORE! BUT, UNTIL YOU SEEN ME… TRUST ME… YOU AIN'T SEEN BOUNCIN' BACK!" "Introducing first," hollers Funyon, "the challenger: being accompanied to the ring by Melissa Fasaki and hailing from the Bahamas, weighing two hundred fourteen pounds… the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!" With Melissa draped over his left arm, Wildchild raises his right arm to salute the crowd as the pair makes their way down the ramp: DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! "The challenger looks like he's ready," notes Pete, as Wildchild and Melissa approach the ringside area. "And King, I was a little worried that he would have lost a little momentum in losing to Wes Davenport back on Smarkdown, but he appears to have complete confidence out there!" "Well, it's all well and good to be confident," replies King, "but that's not going to amount to much when Jay Hawke is squeezing all of the confidence out of him with that Wing Span!" Wildchild removes his shin guards and hands them to Melissa, and then gives her a quick peck on the cheek before somersaulting between the bottom and middle ropes to enter the ring. He quickly rolls to his feet and gives the crowd a big thumbs up. "That young man's smile is infectious!" remarks Pete. "I tell you, King, it's hard to dislike the Wildchild!" "I beg to differ," replies King. "You'd be surprised how remarkably easy it is for me to dislike him!" The crowd marvels at Wildchild's flexibility as "Bouncin' Back" fades into the ethereal. After a split second of silence, the lights in the arena dim, and quiet is quickly disrupted by Pink Floyd's "Learning to Fly." BOOOOOOOOOO! "And, his opponent," continues Funyon, as Jay steps out onto the stage, "from the Hall-of-Fame city of Cleveland, Ohio, and weighing in tonight at two hundred fifteen pounds…Here is the SWF International Champion… the Dean of Professional Wrestling: JAAAAAY HAAAAAWKE!" A spotlight shines on Jay Hawke as he makes his way to the ring. "And here comes the Champion!" proclaims King. "Look at the expression of confidence on HIS face; you still think that Wildchild holds any kind of mental edge over him? This is going to be a walk in the park for the Dean!" Upon arriving at the ringside area, Hawke removes his robe, folds it, and hands it to the ring attendant. He then makes his way onto the ring apron, and steps between the ropes to enter the ring. The International Champion walks to a nearby corner and climbs up onto the turnbuckle; he removes his title belt and raises it haughtily above his head as the crowd jeers: YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! "The crowd doesn't appear to be behind Jay Hawke at all in this match," observes LDP. "And it's not going to matter a whit," replies King. "It doesn't make a difference if none of the twenty-five thousand in attendance are cheering for Jay Hawke because, in the end, it's going to come down to him and his opponent, and for eight months now, there hasn't been anybody to come into the ring that's been good enough to take that title away from him!" "That could all change in a matter of moments," says Pete. The lights come back on in the Staples Center as "Learning to Fly" fades out. Jay climbs down from the turnbuckle and hands the International Title over to referee Ronald "Red" Herrington, who raises the title above his head to display to the crowd. "There it is," reflects Pete. "That's what it's all about: the second-most prestigious title in professional wrestling today. Will history be made here tonight, or will Jay Hawke be able to maintain his death grip on the International Title? Folks, we're about to find out!" Herrington hands the title belt over to the departing Funyon and then signals to the timekeeper to ring the bell, signifying the start of the match: DING! DING! DING! "There's the bell!" proclaims Pete. "Let's get down to bid'ness!" Wildchild and Jay Hawke circle each other in the center of the ring, before meeting in a collar-and-elbow tie-up. Jay quickly takes advantage with an arm wringer, and attempts to shift into a top wristlock, but Wildchild reverses the arm wringer before taking Jay over with a modified snapmare. Wildchild applies a reverse chinlock to Hawke, but the Dean immediately slips out the back door and counters into a hammerlock. He pulls WC back to his feet and re-asserts the arm wringer, but the Human Hurricane escapes yet again, this time cart-wheeling forward to alleviate the pressure on his arm, and surprising Hawke with a single-leg takedown. "Looks like Jay Hawke's game plan to start the match was to teach Wildchild a wrestling lesson," notes Pete, "but Wildchild's been able to keep up with him so far!" Hawke instinctively rolls onto his stomach to escape a possible pin attempt, inspiring WC to leap forward and snare Jay in a side headlock. Jay negotiates his way back to his feet and tries to push Wildchild off, but the challenger takes Hawke back to the canvas with a side headlock takeover. "I have to admit how surprised I am that Wildchild's been able to match Jay Hawke move-for-move early on in this bout," marvels King. Hawke escapes the side headlock by trapping Wildchild's head in a leg scissors, but WC rolls forward so that his body is laying atop Jay's in a pinning combination! ONE! The Dean leaves nothing to chance, bridging immediately out of the pin attempt, while supporting WC's body weight on top of him. Once back to a semi-vertical base, Jay rolls over to assume a dominant position, reversing from a pin attempt to a standing reverse double underhook. Hawke rolls over once more and pulls WC forward into a backslide pin attempt, but the Bahama Bomber flips through it, landing on his feet in front of a startled Jay Hawke… WHACK! … And driving a running kneelift into his jaw that sends him stumbling backwards into the ropes! RAAAAAAAAAAH! "Whoa!" exclaims Pete. "Tremendous wrestling sequence by both men that ends with Wildchild getting the better of the International Champion!" "Thanks to a cheap shot!" snaps King. "Yeah, I'll grant you that he caught Jay off-guard; he may have underestimated Wildchild's mat wrestling ability a little bit, but it was obvious that Jay was just starting to get his bearings back, and assert his control. So, what does Wildchild do? He cheap shots Jay Hawke to spare himself the embarrassment of being outwrestled, that's what he does!" "I don't know how you can say that he was about to be outwrestled, King," argues LDP. "If anything, they looked like they were on the verge of a standoff!" "Sure he was," King replies sarcastically. "That's why he had to go for that cheap shot!" Indignant, Jay gets to his feet and walks towards Wildchild, planting both hands on his chest and shoving him backwards. WC responds with a shove of his own, and then challenges Hawke to come at him. "This is terrible!" moans King, as the two men begin trading punches. "He's doing it again; Wildchild's trying to turn this match into a fight!" "What were you saying about controlling the pace?" asks Pete mockingly. Jay and Wildchild fight their way into a corner, so Herrington splits them up and guides them towards the center of the ring, before motioning for them to wrestle again. WC quickly takes advantage with an arm wringer, and Jay muscles him back against the ropes, before whipping him across the ring, but the Bahama Bomber explodes into the air as he rebounds to send the Champion to the canvas with a flying shoulder tackle! Jay bellies out as Wildchild runs back over the top of him, and then gets quickly back up, bending over to deliver a back-body drop as WC rebounds, but the challenger leaps high into the air, extending his leg to come down on the back of he falls back down… WHOOSH! … Only for Jay to scoot out of the ring, just narrowly avoiding the Caribbean Cutter! Wildchild rolls to his knees and stares out at the Champion, holding his thumb and forefinger less than an inch apart, while flashing his trademark grin as if to say, "It could have been THAT quick!" DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! "Wildchild appears to have rattled the International Champion," notes Pete. "He's totally taken him off his game!" "Eh, don't worry about Jay Hawke," replies King. "He's just playing a game of cat and mouse; he's got Wildchild right where he wants him!" Jay slides back into the ring and meets WC for a collar-and-elbow tie-up. Jay muscles Wildchild back into the corner, where Red Herrington calls for a clean break… WHACK! But Jay catches Wildchild unawares with a right hand to the face! "Now who's delivering cheap shots, King?" challenges LDP, as Hawke stuns Wildchild repeatedly in the corner with a series of European uppercuts. Hawke whips WC across the ring into the opposite corner, hooking his arm underneath the challenger as he staggers out of the corner to deliver a hiptoss, but the Caribbean Cruiser lands on his feet, turns into Jay's body, and take him over with a sensation modified armdrag! WC beats Jay to his feet and leaps into the air, locking his legs around Hawke's neck and taking him over with a rana! He beats Jay to his feet yet again and sends him flying out of the ring with a standing dropkick! YEAAAAAAAAAAH! "Wildchild has got these fans on their feet here in the Staples Center!" exclaims Pete. Wildchild walks over to the edge of the ring and grabs onto the top rope. He flings himself over the top rope to deliver a plancha, but stops himself in mid-flight and comes to rest on the apron when he sees that Hawke has moved out of the way. Hawke hops up onto the apron himself and charges towards WC to clothesline him off the apron, but the Tropical Tumbler ducks easily and plants two hands into the Champion's back, pushing him into the ringpost! Wildchild waits for Hawke to get back to his feet before running across the apron and leaping down towards the arena floor to crash into Jay with a somersault senton! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! "Another brilliant reversal by Wildchild!" praises Pete. "Jay Hawke was trying to keep Wildchild from getting into his high-risk offense, but Wildchild saw him coming!" Wildchild rolls Jay back into the ring and quickly follows in after him, hooking the leg as Herrington drops down to make the count: ONE! TWO! Hawke kicks out at two! Wildchild pulls Hawke to his feet, but the Champion stuns him with a rake of the eyes, and then grabs him by the back of the head, leading him towards the edge of the ring and tossing him over the top rope, but the Bahama Bomber grabs onto the top rope and begins to pull himself back into the ring… WHAM! … Only for Hawke to send him to the floor with a running dropkick before he can skin the cat! "Excellent ring awareness on the part of Jay Hawke!" praises King, as Jay takes a few steps back from the ropes. "Jay knew exactly what he'd try for, and beat him to the punch!" "Look at this!" exclaims Pete, as Hawke grabs onto the top rope and propels himself out of the ring, crashing into the unsuspecting Wildchild with a corkscrew plancha! "I love it!" crows King. "Jay Hawke is giving Wildchild a little taste of his own medicine!" Hawke rams Wildchild's face into the edge of the apron before rolling him back into the ring. The Champion climbs onto the apron and turns to face the crowd, which reacts unfavorably to him: JAY HAWKE SUCKS! JAY HAWKE SUCKS! JAY HAWKE SUCKS! JAY HAWKE SUCKS! Jay steps back into the ring and pulls Wildchild to his feet, but the Bahama Bomber bats his hands away, and begins to assault his face with rapid-fire right hands! Wildchild forces Jay into the corner and grabs him by the wrist, whipping him across the ring. WC runs in after him, springing off the canvas and twisting in midair to deliver his patented Blue Crush splash, but Hawke dives out of the corner to safety. Instead of crashing into the turnbuckle, however, WC catches himself on the middle ropes and climbs up to the top turnbuckle before springing back into the ring with a flying cross-body block… WHAM! … But the International Champion has him well-scouted, and counters with a standing dropkick that catches Wildchild in the right shoulder! "Oh my!" croaks LDP. "Jay Hawke with a tremendous counter to the cross-body that may have re-aggravated that shoulder injury!" Jay gets back to his feet, a cocky smirk on his face as he looks down on his handiwork. "Yeah!" he shouts, to no one in particular. "That's right!" BOOOOOOOOOO! "It's just like I said, MacDougal," says King. "Jay Hawke was playing cat-and-mouse with Wildchild; he let him think that he was in the game and then, when he was ready, he slammed the door in his face!" Jay pulls Wildchild to his feet and scoops him up before driving his right shoulder down onto this outstretched thigh with a devastating shoulderbreaker! "Big time shoulderbreaker by the Champion!" praises King. "That could be it… but what's he waiting for? Put this chump away, Hawke!" "He's wasting time," remarks LDP, as Jay walks over to Wildchild. "Valuable time!" "No doubt about it," agrees King, as Hawke stands over the top of the challenger. "This is a big mistake; I know that Jay wanted to come out here and make a statement tonight, but he needs to go ahead and get the win. Remember Jay, the best statement is holding onto that title!" Hawke drops down, pressing his knees against Wildchild's shoulders to hold him down for a pin, while raising his arms in triumph… ONE! TWO! Wildchild raises his legs up and hooks them underneath Jay's armpits, pulling him backwards into a sitting pin! ONE! TWO! Jay kicks out forcefully at two and launches into an aggressive offense before WC can recover any further, battering him with a series of kneedrops to the shoulder blades. "Well, I've got to admit," concedes King, as Hawke continues his attack, "that was a cardinal mistake for an experienced wrestler like Jay Hawke. He should have gone for the pin immediately after the shoulderbreaker; he may have possibly won this match. Now, he's going to have to soften Wildchild up again!" Jay finally relents, waving his arms in frustration as he stomps away, as the crowd cheers wildly for their hero: LET'S GO, WILDCHILD, LET'S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET'S GO, WILDCHILD, LET'S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET'S GO, WILDCHILD, LET'S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET'S GO, WILDCHILD, LET'S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* The cheers of the fans only serve to get Jay Hawke more upset, and he stomps around the ring screaming at the fans, who cheer even louder for Wildchild in response! "Jay tried to show off," says Pete, "and now he's paying for it; he could have had the victory!" After finally settling himself emotionally, Hawke positions himself behind Wildchild and waits for him to get back to his feet before snaring him in an inverted front facelock and dropping the challenger with a reverse DDT onto his knee! With the crowd booing heavily, Jay stands up once again, this time raising his arms into position as he measures WC to put him away. "He's going for the Wing Span!" shouts King. As soon as Wildchild gets to his feet, Jay grabs his right arm and bends it back into a chickenwing, while reaching across with his other arm to apply a crossface. "He slapped it on, right in the center of the ring!" shrieks LDP. "He just about got it hooked; all except for the body scissors… but Wildchild is fighting him! He's doing all he can to stay on his feet!" Wildchild begins to fight for all he's worth, struggling against Jay Hawke and reaching desperately for the ropes while trying to keep Jay from pulling him backwards. "Wildchild can see his life flashing before his eyes!" taunts King. "This is it, MacDougal; he's got Wildchild in the middle of the ring! Once Jay gets the body scissors on him, it's all over!" LET'S GO, WILDCHILD, LET'S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET'S GO, WILDCHILD, LET'S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET'S GO, WILDCHILD, LET'S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET'S GO, WILDCHILD, LET'S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* "But look at Wildchild fight," counters LDP, "trying to get to the ropes, trying to get a hold of anything before Jay can get him down and into that body scissors… but he's fading fast!" Wildchild begins to slow down, but before Jay can get him down to the canvas, WC catches him off balance and makes one more final push for the ropes! LET'S GO, WILDCHILD, LET'S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET'S GO, WILDCHILD, LET'S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET'S GO, WILDCHILD, LET'S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET'S GO, WILDCHILD, LET'S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* "Wildchild with a valiant effort," taunts King, "but he's going to come up just short!" "The referee's right there to see if Wildchild wants to give up," notes Pete. Wildchild's strength finally leaves him, and he begins to fall backwards… but before Jay Hawke can lock on the body scissors, WC is able to get his foot across the bottom rope! YEAAAAAAAAAAAH! "He got his foot on the ropes!" exclaims Pete. Red Herrington orders Jay to break the hold and then begins to count when he refuses, getting up to four before the Champion finally relents. "Aaaah!" groans King. "He took the cheap way out!" Hawke rolls atop Wildchild to apply a lateral press: ONE! TWO! But Wildchild gets his foot back on the ropes again! "I can't believe this!" grumbles King. "I can't believe that Wildchild would stoop so low, and wrestle so cheaply!" "Title's on the line, King," replies LDP. "You do what you have to do!" Perturbed, Jay drags WC out towards the center of the ring. "Well, there won't be any ropes to save him this time," says King. "Hawke's got him in the center of the ring!" Jay applies another lateral press. ONE! TWO! THREE! NO! Wildchild slips out the back door, just ahead of the three count! RAAAAAAAAAAH! "Look at Jay Hawke, King," notes LDP, as Jay pounds the mat in frustration, "he's extremely upset right now; probably asking himself what he has to do to put Wildchild away?" Jay backpedals into the corner and climbs up on the second turnbuckle, lying in wait for WC as the challenger tries to collect his breath on the canvas. "This isn't part of Jay Hawke's usual offense," remarks Pete. "I don't know what he thinks he's doing; he's almost halfway across the ring! But Wildchild doesn't even have a clue; he doesn't know where Jay Hawke is!" "Hah!" quips King, as Wildchild slowly gets back to his feet. "Wildchild doesn't know where HE is!" Jay Hawke leaps from the second turnbuckle to deliver a double-axe handle… but Wildchild counters, leaping off the mat and knocking the Champion out of the air with a standing dropkick! YEAAAAAAAAAAH! "Tremendous move by the Wildchild!" cheers Pete, as Wildchild screams in pain, landing hard on the canvas. "But it looks like he may have landed awkwardly on that injured right shoulder, King; he's in a lot of pain!" "Hawke may have torn something when he had him in that Wing Span," remarks King. "You know what I would do? I'd go right back to that Wing Span again, and see if I can get him to tap this time!" Wildchild pulls himself to his feet and charges across the ring at the International Champion, exploding off the canvas to deliver a flying forearm! WHAM! … But the Dean snatches WC out of the air and twists him around before driving him down onto his outstretched thigh with a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker! He collapses atop Wildchild in a lateral press: ONE! TWO! THR— KICKOUT! "Jay Hawke with an unbelievable counter," says Pete, "and very nearly got the three count!" Hawke rolls Wildchild onto his belly and grabs both of his arms, bending them back as he applies the Rings of Saturn! "Well, this isn't quite the Wing Span," says King, "but it'll work just as well; this is a move that puts tremendous pressure on the shoulders, and it's going to be tough for Wildchild to find the leverage to make it to the ropes!" Wildchild cries out in pain as Hawke cranks back on the hold. "Wildchild's natural flexibility and his will to win may be the only things keeping him from tapping out right now," says Pete. Melissa begins to pound on the mat to get the crowd back into it, and they respond by cheering for the Bahama Bomber: LET'S GO, WILDCHILD, LET'S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET'S GO, WILDCHILD, LET'S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET'S GO, WILDCHILD, LET'S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET'S GO, WILDCHILD, LET'S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* "You can hear the Staples Center getting behind the Wildchild," notes LDP, "but I don't know how much longer he can hold out!" Herrington asks Wildchild if he's ready to give up, but the Tropical Tumbler seems to be infused by the energy of the crowd, and he vigorously shakes his head no. "This is career suicide on the part of the Wildchild," says King. "There's no way that he can get out of this move, and he could sustain two separated shoulders if he doesn't swallow his pride and give up!" Wildchild locks eyes with Melissa, who stares back at him, her eyes imploring him not to submit. "Melissa Fasaki has a concerned look on her face," says Pete, observing the exchange. "Of course she does," replies King. "That's her meal ticket!" Herrington once again asks WC if he's had enough, and he shouts defiantly that he has not. He then gathers his feet underneath him and begins to inch slowly towards the ropes. Melissa continues to pound on the mat in encouragement as the crowd keeps cheering: LET'S GO, WILDCHILD, LET'S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET'S GO, WILDCHILD, LET'S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET'S GO, WILDCHILD, LET'S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET'S GO, WILDCHILD, LET'S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* "This is incredible!" shouts LDP. "Wildchild's actually trying to get to the ropes!" "That's impossible!" barks King. "I'm watching with my own eyes, and I STILL don't believe it!" Wildchild is only able to move a few inches, but it's enough to convince Jay Hawke that he might have a chance to escape, and decides to switch tactics, releasing the hold and immediately rolling back to his feet, hopping off the canvas before Wildchild can move any further and planting a kneedrop between his shoulder blades! Jay rolls him over for a lateral press: ONE! TWO! THREE— NO! "Two and three quarters," says Pete, "as Wildchild was, once again, able to slip out the back door!" The Dean pulls Wildchild to his feet and leads him over to a nearby corner, lifting him onto the top turnbuckle. "Uh-oh," King says with glee. "Jay Hawke's going for that belly-to-back Superplex… this will get rid of whatever starch Wildchild might have had left!" Jay climbs onto the turnbuckles himself and then tries to lift Wildchild for the suplex, but WC latches onto the top turnbuckle and hangs on for dear life! "Hawke going for the Superplex, but Wildchild's fighting him!" shouts LDP. Wildchild draws his head back and jams it into the bridge of Jay's nose! A second headbutt, followed by a third is enough to get the Dean to relax his grip, and a double sledgehammer blow behind him strikes Hawke between the eyes and causes him to fall off the turnbuckles! RAAAAAAAAAAH! "Tremendous tenacity on the part of Wildchild, to counter the Superplex!" cheers LDP, as WC clutches both shoulders in pain. "But that double sledgehammer blow may have been ill-advised, as it put a tremendous strain on his injured shoulders!" Wildchild climbs slowly onto the top turnbuckle, but the pain in his shoulders slows him enough for the Dean to recover; he rushes towards the corner to knock Wildchild off of the turnbuckles, but the Human Hurricane flips backwards into the ring, and then steps towards the International Champion… CRACK! … And blasts him in the side of the face with a climb-up Enzugiri! YEAAAAAAAAAAH! "Phenomenal Enzugiri by the Wildchild!" exclaims Pete. "But can he follow it up?" Wildchild crawls across the ring to the opposite corner, and uses the ropes to pull himself up to his feet. Jay scrambles to his feet and runs across the ring at Wildchild, but the Bahama Bomber gets a foot up, catching the Champion in the jaw! WC hops up onto the middle turnbuckle as Hawke staggers away and springs off, snaring him by the head and driving him face-first into the canvas with a flying bulldog! He rolls Jay over and collapses atop him: ONE! TWO! THR— KICKOUT! Jay still has the presence of mind to kick out. WC pulls him to his feet and staggers him with another headbutt. "Wildchild is firing back now!" cheers Pete. "He's got Jay Hawke in a bad way!" "A temporary situation," replies King, as WC pulls Jay to his feet. "I don't think that he has much left!" Wildchild whips Jay across the ring and takes off after him, leaping off the canvas and twisting around to level the Dean with a flying back elbow smash!" "Beautiful elbow takes down the International Champion!" says Pete, as Wildchild applies a lateral press. "Wildchild's in cruise control here!" ONE! TWO! THREE! NO! Hawke kicks out at two! Herrington barely scoots out of the way as Wildchild scrambles to his feet, smacking Hawke in the bridge of the nose with short forearm shots before running to the ropes, picking up momentum as he bounces off and springing into the air as he approaches Jay, whipping his leg through the air to deliver a leg lariat! WHAM! … But the Dean pulls Red Herrington in front of him, and Wildchild inadvertently knocks out the referee instead! "We've got a referee down!" exclaims Pete. "This is a potentially chaotic situation!" "I love this," says King. "Now's when anything can happen!" Wildchild bends down over the referee, apologizing profusely as he attempts to help him back up, but Hawke sneaks up behind him and traps him in a waistlock, before launching him overhead and into the canvas with a German suplex! "Beautiful German suplex by Jay Hawke," applauds King. "And, if you ask me, Wildchild got exactly what he deserved; if he hadn't manhandled the referee, then he wouldn't have been in that position in the first place!" "If HE hadn't manhandled the official?" asks Pete incredulously, as the Dean slides out of the ring. "If Jay Hawke hadn't pulled the referee in front of him, that would never have happened!" "What's going on here?" ponders King, as Jay heads towards the timekeeper's table, snatching the International Title from Funyon. "He's got the belt!" shrieks LDP, as Hawke slides back into the ring. "What the hell is he going to do with that?" "He's going to show Wildchild how close he can ever hope to get to the belt!" taunts King. Jay gets back to his feet inside the ring and holds the title at eye level, waiting for WC to stand back up. Suddenly he charges across the ring to nail the challenger between the eyes with the Championship Belt… WHAM! … But the Bahama Bomber ducks underneath the belt shot attempt, doubles him over with a kick to the midsection, and then crushes his face against the canvas with a Caribbean Cutter! The crowd explodes as WC rolls Hawke over and they begin to count his shoulders down: ONE! TWO! THREE! RAAAAAAAAAAH! But, alas, despite the crowd's cheering, there was no actual pinfall, for the referee is still out cold! "Wildchild had Jay Hawke down for the three, but it doesn't count!" taunts King. "That's what he gets for knocking out the official!" "That's a load of crap, and you know it, King!" snaps Pete. "That wasn't Wildchild's fault!" WC once again preoccupies himself with attempting to revive the referee, providing Hawke the needed distraction to retrieve the belt and get back to his feet. Having little success with the referee, Wildchild turns around to check on Jay Hawke… WHAM! AND JAY HAWKE NAILS WILDCHILD WITH THE INTERNATIONAL TITLE! "Oh my goodness!" cries Pete, as Hawke tosses the belt out of the ring. "Jay Hawke just cleaned Wildchild's clock with the belt!" the fans boo loudly as Jay gives the signal for the Wing Span. "He's going to put the Wing Span back on!" crows King, as Jay locks on the submission hold, scissoring WC's body as he falls backwards. "That's it! And he's got the body scissors on this time; there's no way Wildchild will be able to get out of it this time!" Referee Red Herrington crawls towards the two wrestlers, and glances briefly at Wildchild's face before signaling to the timekeeper to ring the bell… DING! DING! DING! BOOOOOOOOOO! "No!" spits LDP. "Not like this, damn it!" Hawke rolls to his feet and raises his arms in triumph, ignoring the boos of the crowd. Funyon rises from his seat and grabs the discarded belt, handing it back to the referee as he walks over to receive the official word. "Folks, I can't believe this," says Pete solemnly. "After pulling the referee in front of him to save himself from the Wildchild, Jay Hawke appears to be about to steal this match from the Bahama Bomber… let's get the official word!" "Ladies and gentlemen," booms Funyon, "the referee awards this bout… "… As a result of a disqualification… YEAAAAAAAAAAH! "… TO: THE WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!" YEAAAAAAAAAAH! "I knew it!" proclaims LDP. "I knew that the referee wasn't going to let that chicanery stand!" "However," Funyon continues, as the Dean snatches the title away from Herrington, "the International Title cannot change hands on a disqualification… Therefore, STILL the International Champion, Jay Hawke!" BOOOOOOOOOO! The crowd appears furious as Jay smirks, clutching the title closely to his chest. "There you have it," repeats LDP. "And as you can see on this replay, Jay Hawke clearly grabs the official and shoves him in front of Wildchild to take the brunt of that leg lariat… but what a bad break for the Wildchild; this is now the third straight time that a disqualification has cost him gold!" "I've got to give credit to Jay Hawke, for using his head," counters King. "Hey, you do whatever it takes to hold onto that title; if that means getting yourself disqualified, then so be it. You might get a loss on your record, and end up with the loser's share of the purse, but you get to keep your title! Smart decision by the International Champion!" JAY HAWKE SUCKS! JAY HAWKE SUCKS! JAY HAWKE SUCKS! JAY HAWKE SUCKS! Hawke continues to taunt the fans, flashing his belt at them, and prepares to leave the ring… when WC suddenly spins him around and begins hammering him in the face with a battery of right hands! RAAAAAAAAAAH! "Now THIS is what has to be stopped!" growls King. "The match is over; Wildchild should be fined and suspended!" "King, I'm not even trying to hear you right now," replies Pete, as Wildchild whips Hawke into the ropes. "After what Jay Hawke just did to him, he totally deserves it!" WC runs to the opposite ropes and leaps onto the top rope, curling into a ball as he springs back into the ring, and knocking the Dean flat with a Pinball! Without a second thought, Wildchild pulls Jay back to his feet and doubles him over at the waist, hooking an inverted double underhook and spinning around, lifting Jay onto his shoulders… WHAM! … AND DRIVING HIM HEADFIRST INTO THE CANVAS WITH THE WILD RIDE! YEAAAAAAAAAAH! "Bouncin' Back" begins to play once more as WC gets back to his feet. Melissa enters the ring and runs over to the Bahama Bomber, raising his hand as the fans cheer! "You've got to feel a little bad for Wildchild," says Pete. "Once again, he was able to come away with a victory against Jay Hawke, but once again, he was unable to leave with the title!" "I told you that Hawke was leaving here with the belt, MacDougal!" says King. "I should have my own psychic hotline!" "However," continues Pete, "I'm sure that this thing between the Dean and the Bahama Bomber is far from over!" Wildchild stands over the top of Jay's unconscious body, trying the International Title on for size… As we: FADE OUT

We’re backstage where Joseph Peters has been cornered by concerned SWF referees ”Who’s going to referee the Ultraviolent title match Peters?” Nick Soapdish asks nervously. ”I ain’t doing it” part time referee Ced Ordonez states categorically, drawing some angry looks from the other referees. “Oh yeah? Why not” Red Harrington says “I’m partial” Ced says with a smile “I helped Bruce out in the Cruiserweight challenge remember? It’d look biased if I was in there” The remaining referees roll their eyes at Ced’s pathetic attempt at ducking out of harms way “Didn’t you get your ass kicked by Bruce” Peters asks “Erm…Well I also already wrestled tonight” Ced adds trying to come up with a good argument for not refereeing the Deathmatch but seemingly to no avail. “You can’t make us do this Peters!! This is an unsafe working environment, whomever goes out there could be seriously hurt – I mean time bombs??” Izzy Slappowitch says with a nervous twitch, he seems especially nervous as he’s refereed a large number of Bruce’s Ultraviolent matches. “Alright, alright I understand your concerns but there has to be a referee to count the three count or hear the submission – I will take every precaution to protect you in the ring thought” Peters says trying to calm everyone. “Who have you picked for this match?” Nick Soapdish asks wanting to know if he’s safe or not. “I haven’t yet – I thought we’d let chance decide it. So everyone write your own name on a piece of paper and put it in this hat” Peters says as he holds a SWF Baseball cap out in the air. After a moment everyone’s put their name in the hat and are anxiously awaiting Peters. “Alright” he says after he pulls a piece of paper out of the hat and reads the name “Ced it’s your match” Ced looks stunned at the announcement and blurts out “That can’t be! I wrote Izzy Slappowitch on my piece of paper!!” “Ah that’s rotten luck” Izzy says with a huge grin as he pads Ced on the back and walks away, the others express similar “less than sorry” sentiments as they leave the room, happy to have gotten out of harms way. “Go get ready Ced” Peters says in a “I’m sorry but someone has to do it” voice “Yes sir” is all a dejected and beaten Ced Ordonez can say before he heads for his dressing room. Once Ced has left Joseph Peters pulls the other pieces of paper out of the hat and reads them “Izzy”, “Ced”, “Ced”, “Ced”, “Ced” and “Ced” Fade back to Longdogger Pete and the Suicide King who are not at their customary positions at ringside but located further back by the entrance to keep safe from the very dangerous match that we are about to see. As Pete and King get some face time we can see the electrified cage being erected on the jumbo-tron behind the two SWF commentators. “Well it looks like Ced is the poor fool who gets the unenviable task of refereeing this final match in the “Best of 5 Ultraviolent Matches” series” Longdogger Pete says for those at home who needed to have it repeated. “HA! I always enjoy Ced getting his ass kicked when he wrestles, I guess tonight won’t be that different – he can only hope that the match doesn’t go to the 15 minute deadline and the bombs go off” King says with excitement. “As you can see the ring crew are setting up the cage as we speak and then it will be electrified because being in a cage isn’t bad enough.” Says Longdogger Pete with some dread. “And let’s not forget the time bombs” King beams “The bombs placed around the ring set to a 15 minute timer that will go off if no pin-fall or submission has happened” The SWF ring crew finish erecting the cage and stringing the electricity and bombs as Pete and King wrap up their small talk. After gesturing to the back that they’re ready Funyon takes the microphone and steps into the cage to do the introductions. “Ladies and gentlemen – the following ULTRAVIOLENT TITLE MATCH! Is a Japanese Deathmatch to decide the “Best of 5 series” Funyon says to pop the crowd. As Funyon explains the rules to the people in the audience we see Ced Ordonez reluctantly walk out from backstage towards the ring wearing a thick padded green outfit, the kind usually seen on bomb disposal squads, complete with a helmet and heavy gloves to give Ced some protection if the time bombs go off. “What in the world?” Is all the Miami Menace can say when he sees Ced’s get up “Well Peters did say he’d protect him – he couldn’t be more protected unless he was triple condomed and locked in a room by himself” says the Suicide King as he snickers at Ordonez’ plight. With Ordonez in place in the cage Funyon goes from explaining the rules to doing the introductions for the deciding match in the best of 5 series. “Introducing first the challenger with victories in a “Lighttubes Deathmatch and an “Agony of Defeat” match he holds 2 victories in this series – From Sendai, Japan” AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! Funyon ignores the fact that the fans have jumped all over his introduction and goes on “The man known as “The Divine Wind: KAIBATSU AKIRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!” A re-mixed version of the Hives’ “Main Offender” kicks it marking it’s debut as Akira’s theme song ”I'm on my way, Can't settle down. “ “What a moron, he pronounced the name wrong” King says as he slaps his forehead. “He pronounced it the traditional Japanese way King, unlike some I know Funyon has respect for other people’s culture” Pete says “Yeah that Peters is so xenophobic” says King in return. ”I'm stuck in ways of being an ass and I got a lot of nerve that I'm ready to pass. I'm on my way. Can't settle down. “ The lights in the arena die down, only a few spotlights remain in the awe-inspiring electrified cage in the middle of the arena. After a moment a single spotlight turns to the entrance where Mr. Kobe steps through the curtains waving a flag that’s Japanese on one side and the Stars and Stripes on the other side. YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!! “The crowd here in Los Angeles seem to appreciate the respect Akira Kaibatsu shows everyone… well everyone but Bruce Blank” Pete says as Mr. Kobe waits for Akira. ”I'm stuck in ways of sadistic joy and my talent only goes as far as to annoy. I'm on my way. This is my main offender.“ The curtains are pulled aside and the spotlight shines on the Divine Wind as he stands there decked out in full Samurai warrior armor complete with helmet and samurai sword at his side. Akira stands there for a moment to let the camera get a good close up of his armor – the chest place with “Fearless” written on it in kanji. The heavy gloves, the forearm and shoulder armor all adds to the image of Akira looking like he just stepped out of a time machine. “Is he going to wear that in the match?” King asks. “I don’t know – run down to the cage and ask him” Pete says, secretly wishing he would. ”This is what I've got and it got me saying - Why me? I'm on my way. I get around.“ After giving the cameras a close-up Akira walks towards the ring, keeping his eyes on the cage, looking focused as he prepares for what is definitely the biggest match of his SWF career so far. His stride is steadfast and without hesitation but the fans in the arena and at home just KNOW that he has to be nervous about stepping into the death trap known as a “Japanese Deathmatch”. Once he reaches the cage he stops for a second, turns around and raises his hands in the air to greet the fans. AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! A number of fans at ringside throw long blue and white streamers up in the air and actually over Akira as he greets them all. “They TP’ed Akira!!” King says as he laughs. “Man you really don’t pay much attention to anything other than yourself do you?” Pete responds as he shakes his head in disbelief over the Gambling Man’s ignorance. “Why should I?” Akira hands over the samurai sword to Mr. Kobe and then bows to him before walking the 4 steps up and into the cage where he begins to slowly remove his armor as he awaits his opponent. “And his opponent, the longest reigning and defending SWF Ultraviolent champion. Coming in with victories in the Supermarket Death match and the Sendai Thumbtack match this is the self proclaimed “King of Pain” BRUCEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANK!!” ”Well every time that I come home nobody wants to let me be It seems that all the friends I got just got to come interrogate me“ WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! After a moment or two of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s playing the crowd’s attention is drawn to the side of the entrance set up as they hear a loud truck horn play “I wish I was in Dixie” as an engine revs up. "Well, I appreciate your feelings and I don’t want to pass you by But I don’t ask you about your business, don’t ask me about mine" Instead of walking down the entrance Bruce appears on the back of his Ford Pick-Up truck with one hand on the roll bar and another holding a beer up high in the air as he grins in anticipation. The last time we saw Bruce’s truck it had been rammed through a grocery store window but someone must have gotten their hands on it as the beat up truck has had a complete overhaul for this match. The truck is now restored to mint condition, with sparking chrome, a crisp black pain job that’s accentuated by airbrushed blue flames licking down each side of the trunk and “King of Pain” written across the hood. “Well damn – Someone pimped Bruce’s ride up big time” Pete says trying to be hip with the hip and young with the young but failing at both. “Now that’s a ride fit for a king” The Suicide King says as the pick up truck engine roars. "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" WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! Bruce doesn’t seem to even notice the chants from the crowd as the pick up truck brings him to the ring in style, he’s busy drinking a beer and holding on to the moving truck. Once the truck stops Bruce turns to the fans and raises both arms in the air, taking an early crack at celebrating “Bruce seems awfully confident King – yeah he’s got a new car and he’s calling himself the “King of Pain” but it’ll take more than that to win this match” Pete points out as Bruce flips off a particularly obnoxious fan at ringside. “Well he proclaimed himself the king, now he’ll have to PROVE IT!” The Suicide King replies "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" With Bruce’s back turned Akira quickly leaps up on the top rope and then climbs up on the “not yet” electrified cage and balances himself on the top of the steel structure while he waits for just the right moment. AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! “What is this moron doing? Doesn’t he know it’s supposed to be kept in the cage?” King complains as Akira looks poised on top of the cage. “You know the irony of you complaining about someone breaking the rules is so ironic it blew out my ironic-meter” Pete says "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 moment Bruce begins to turn back towards the cage Akira leaps off the 15 foot high steel structure, leaping over the hood and truck cab of Bruce’s truck as the camera angle reveals that he’s still wearing the samurai armor on his right arm. Akira flies straight at Bruce striking the Ultraviolent champion with pinpoint precision as he knocks the big man down to the floor of the truck bed with a flying forearm. Akira comes crashing down right on top of Bruce and then rolls with the momentum to leap back to his feet as the crowd goes completely nuts YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!! “Akira goes completely Kamikaze on Bruce” the Suicide King says as he tries to talk over the cheering of the fans. “Well that is fitting for a guy called the Divine Wind isn’t it?” Pete replies “Huh?” Is the only thing King can say as he’s totally lost “Kamikaze is Japanese for Divine Wind” Pete quickly explains. Akira raises his right arm in the air and pumps his fist in excitement over striking the first blow as the crowd chants his name. As Bruce gets up Akira unstraps the metal armor on his right arm dropping the metal forearm protector that he struck Bruce with just moments ago. With his side turned to Bruce he waits for the Ultraviolent champion to get back onto his feet, waiting patiently until Bruce has managed to drag himself up before striking with a perfect Superkick right to the jaw. *POW!!* The impact knocks Bruce backwards over the top of the Truck cab and then sliding on his back down over the hood of the truck before flopping to the ground unceremoniously. “We’re 15 minutes away from an explosion!!” King yells out excitedly as the Ultraviolent title match is under way. “Erm… maybe not. Ced hasn’t started the timer yet” Pete points out. He is quite right, Ced Ordonez is just leaning back against the ropes, waiting inside the cage seemingly not very interested in the fight on the floor or in starting the counter. Meanwhile Akira has crawled over the cab of the truck and is now standing on the hood looking at Bruce on the floor. Akira raises his right arm into the air, leaps off the hood of the Ford Truck. . . And strikes Bruce with a perfect flying elbow drop square in the chest “Shades of Randy Savage!” AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! “I don’t think anyone expected the match to start like this King – Bruce usually starts out pretty strong but it’s been all Akira so far” says Pete. “Don’t write him off yet Drainclogger, Bruce isn’t out of the match by any stretch of the imagination” King replies curtly. When Akira points to the door the crowd explodes in cheers once more as they’ve been looking forward to the electrified cage for days now. Akira grabs Bruce by the back of his shirt and his jeans and tosses the Ultraviolent champion into the cage, belt still around his waist and all. A moment later the Divine Wind is in the cage as well and now the Japanese Deathmatch can TRULY begin. “Alright hereeeeeeeeeeeeeeee we go!!” King says as he rubs his hands But the timer still says 15:00 as Ced is busy fiddling with the door making sure it’s locked properly or something “Ced is just stalling! He doesn’t want to start the timer at all – look at him, worrying about the door and the electricity, that’s just a ploy to keep the timer from starting” Pete deduces. “The longer he waits to start it the longer it’ll be before the bombs go off, even in his protective suit Ced wants no part of the time bombs” King says with absolutely NO compassion for Ced’s troubles. With Bruce leaned against the turnbuckles Akira quickly gets a head of steam, spins around as he raises his elbow for a roaring elbow and then *CLANG!!* Drives his elbow straight into the face plate of Bruce’s Ultraviolent title that the champion slipped off unnoticed and held up in front of him. With Akira in agony clutching his right elbow Bruce finally has an opportunity to take charge of this match and quickly does so by striking Akira across the back with the heavy gold belt. “Akira shouldn’t have allowed Bruce to bring what is essentially a weapon into the ring” Say the Suicide King commenting on the inexperience of the rookie sensation. “it IS a weapon, I mean that thing is wrapped in barbwire for chrissake!” Pete laments as Bruce takes charge of the match. With the door properly closed and the electricity turned on Ced has finally run out of ways to stall the starting of the count down and he reluctantly motions for the timer to start 15:00 14:59 “FINALLY!!” Kong complains, he’s been looking forward to a huge explosion all week. “Just under 15 minutes and you’ll get your bloodlust satisfied you degenerate” Pete blurts out without even thinking about it. With Akira on his knees cradling his right elbow in pain Bruce has a free shot at his opponent and makes the most of it as he folds the Ultraviolent belt up and then strikes Akira with the barbwire wrapped parts, digging the pointy metal into the Divine Wind’s left arm. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! After a second blow to the left arm Bruce drags the belt down across Akira’s bicep and draws several lines of blood across his opponent’s skin as the barbwire does it’s damage. The referee should technically take the belt away from Bruce as it’s not part of the stipulation but Ced doesn’t look like he could give a damn, he’s busy looking up at the clock as it counts down. “The eyes of everyone in the arena keep glancing at the clock” says Pete. “Except for Akira who’s looking at the blood on his arm and Bruce who’s busy taking Akira apart” King replies pointing out that 2 sets of eyes haven’t even glanced at the clock yet. After having done the damage to Akira’s left arm Bruce drops the Ultraviolent title and then drags the hurting Akira back to his feet. Bruce’s grin reveals his evil intentions as he Irish whips Akira towards the ropes and the electrified cage NOOOOOOOOOooo… … aaahh!! The crowd screams in horror as it looks like Akira will hit the electrified cage but then breathe a sigh of relief as Akira throws himself down on the canvas to prevent that from happening. The Divine Wind is quickly back on his feet, holding his left arm to stop some of the bleeding but not prepared to back down from the self proclaimed “King of Pain” even for a moment. “That was close, too close for Akira’s comfort” Pete says as he breathes a sigh of relief. “Oh come on what’s the fun of an electrified cage if no one is thrown into it?” King asks. Bruce quickly locks up with Akira in the traditional collar and elbow tie-up and tries to use his power and leverage to push Akira back into the cage. Showing that there is more to moving someone than power Akira uses his position and balance to side step and twist his body in such a way that Bruce is being pushed forward towards the cage instead. YEAAAAAAAAAAaa… …oooooh!! Just as they crowd thinks that Bruce is going to hit the cage the big man plants his cowboy boot solidly on the canvas and stops his forward momentum before he touches the electrified cage. When Bruce turns around he’s greeted with a picture perfect drop kick right to the chest that sends Bruce backwards 3 steps and perilously close to the cage now. “Whomever hits the cage first will be at a huge disadvantage King, that cage will do a LOT of damage.” Pete says. “It’s hooked up to 110 volts Pete, the whole cage is a lethal weapon” King adds just in case anyone has forgotten that the cage is actually electrified. With Bruce so close to the cage Akira turns up the speed as he eyes a golden opportunity, he quickly lands a stiff kick across Bruce’s chest that rocks the big man but fails to knock him into the cage. A second kick goes high over Bruce as he ducks down and Akira is actually only about an inch or two from kicking the actual cage. “Man he just averted disaster there, he can’t get too reckless in an environment like this” says Pete as they watch Akira leap frog over a Bruce charge. “Akira has just completed his rookie year Pete, he may have faced a lot of opponents but I doubt any of them were like Bruce – he’s just a whole different kind of monster” Bruce raises his massive right arm as he goes for a lariat that would have taken Akira’s head off if it had connected, but the Divine Wind is too fast and actually rolls under it ending up in the corner where the Ultraviolent title is laying. On Bruce’s next change Akira leaps at him and strikes the big man in the head with the belt. “I can’t believe that Bruce caught him” King says in surprise. “I can’t believe he’s still standing after that blow to the head” Pete adds as Bruce has his arms wrapped around Akira’s waist holding his opponent up in the air although he doesn’t look very steady on his feet. But if the first blow didn’t knock the big man down then a 2nd and a 3rd blow, both with the barbwire part of the belt sure does the trick resulting in Bruce toppling backwards with Akira on top of him. Akira straddles Bruce’s chest and strikes the Trailerpark Messiah in the forehead once again, busting him wide open with the barbwire. In a display of brutality that’s not very common for Akira Kaibatsu at all the young superstar places the barbwire part of the belt on Bruce’s forehead and slowly drags it across it as a couple of barbs dig deep into Bruce’s skin. “This whole series has been a matter of respect for Akira, he’s been trying to teach Bruce some respect” Pete says trying to explain why Akira is taking such extreme measures. “Respect? PFFFF that’s over rated” King says as he rolls his eyes. The Divine Wind stands back up, holding the blood covered Ultraviolent title up in the air with his right hand as he points to himself with the left one to indicate where the title is going once the match is over. AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! A close-up of Bruce’s face reveals the ghastly details of Akira’s attack as 2 deep gashes run from his forehead into his hair, both of which are bleeding profusely. Once Bruce turns over and gets up on his hands and knees the fans get an idea of just how deep those cuts are as a small stream of blood falls from Bruce’s jaw, not drips, not trickles but runs like a tap that’s not completely closed. “Oh man I’m glad his last name isn’t Orton” King says, always going for a joke when things get a little too out of control. “That’s…. “ is all Pete can say as they watch Bruce’s face turn from unshaven pasty white to a sticky crimson mask in a matter of moments. If the commentators thought that was enough then the crowd disagrees as they want more, they’re chanting for Akira to attack Bruce again and give him a taste of his own medicine. After pushing Ced out of the way Akira resumes his attack as lands a superkick right on Bruce’s jaw. The impact knocks the big man backwards off his knees, sending a fine mist of blood everywhere and covering Akira’s boot in the sticky red substance. With Bruce down Akira quickly lays down on top of Bruce while cradling his own bleeding left arm. ONE!! TWO!! THRE-NO!! Somehow Bruce manages to dig down deep, beyond the blood, beyond the pain and finds the strength to kick out. With the pin-fall being foiled Akira quickly gets back up so he can continue his attack before Bruce has a chance to get his bearings back. “Sweet Lady Liberty! Is that Akira’s blood or Bruce’s blood all over side?” Pete asks “Most of it is probably Bruce’s” King states without doubt in his voice. Using mainly his right arm Akira is able to drag Bruce to his knees and position Blank’s head between his knees. When he goes to underhook both of Bruce’s arms Akira’s left arm is too damaged to actually lock on and lift Bruce into the air. With the arms released Akira tries to lift Bruce into a piledriver position instead but the big man slumps down to one knee to prevent that. AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! Akira raises a hand in the air to acknowledge his fans but soon his attention is turned back towards his opponent as Bruce wraps both his arms around Akira’s legs and then slowly straightens up. His opponent shakes his head in disbelief and tries to push out of the hold but Bruce has a very tight grip on Akira’s legs and manages to slowly rise all the way up to his feet holding onto his opponent all the while. “This 295 pound monster just won’t stay down” King says. Every breath Bruce takes causes blood to be sprayed from his mouth and right now Bruce is breathing heavier than ever as he’s been driven to the edge of what is humanly possible to endure. After standing there for a moment or two with Akira held up side down on his back Bruce finally decides to just drop backwards. “HE COULD BREAK HIS NECK!!” Pete screams out as Bruce goes for a very crude, sloppy and probably dangerous version of the backdrop driver. Instead of dropping straight on the top of his head and possibly blowing out his neck Akira wisely manages to tug his head under Bruce’s arm and take the impact more on his shoulders than his neck. Once the move is hit Bruce just slumps backwards looking like he’s totally out of it and it’s more momentum than intention that causes the cover. ONE!! TWO!! THRE-NO!! “Holy crap on a cracker!” King says “I thought we had a decision there” “I bet Bruce is looking for a quick win, he’s got the ClusterFuck match later too” Pete points out. The shock of the kick out actually brings Bruce around a bit as he sits up and stares in disbelief as Ced Ordonez informs him that it was just a two count. Bruce slowly gets back to his feet even though he has bled on the canvas so much that he actually skids a bit in the slippery liquid before he gets his bearings back. “When I look at Bruce’s state I got to wonder just how long he can go on? I mean he’s just covered in blood all over” Pete says in disgust “He wanted to be known as the King of Pain Pete, Akira is making him earn that name tonight by putting him through hell – I gotta say I didn’t know Akira had that in him.” King says “None of their previous battles have been this horrific but even with the violence turned up to 11 Akira is still in the match.” Bruce bends over and picks up the Ultraviolent title and stares at it for a moment, almost as if he’s trying to determine if all of this is worth it just to keep the title. What Bruce doesn’t see as he’s pre-occupied with the belt is that Akira has gotten back up on his feet and even though he’s holding his head and in a lot of agony he’s far from defeated. “This guy doesn’t know the meaning of the word quit” Pete says breaking out one of the all time greatest wrestling clichés “He doesn’t know the meaning of many English words Pete – he can only say 4 or 5 words in English after all” King replies. Bruce turns around and is shocked to see Akira coming right for him like an out of control freight train. At the last moment Akira ducks down and drives his right shoulder straight into Bruce’s mid-section actually succeeding in lifting the 295 pound side of beef into the air before driving him into the ground just inches from the electrified cage mesh as the Ultraviolent title flies from Bruce’s hand. “Akira almost got them both fried with that move, does he have like a death wish or something?” Pete wonders out loud “Quite possibly yes” is all King can think of to say in return. Akira quickly gets back to his feet and drags Bruce up again then the Divine Wind grabs Bruce by the back of his hair and tries to slam his face into the electrified cage. Bruce manages to bring his right leg forward and plant his steel tipped cowboy boot firmly on the canvas to block his forward momentum and keep his face out of harms way much to the disappointment of the crowd. Looking to repay the favor Bruce grabs the Divine Wind by the mask and tries to drive him face first into the electrified cage instead, but the smaller more nimble man manages to put a foot up on the ropes to block the attempted electrocution. A moment later Bruce finds himself wishing he had Akira’s nimbleness as Akira finally manages to fling the big man back first into the cage. *ZZZZZZZZZAAAAAAA* Bruce’s whole body convulses as the electricity courses through it, huge showers of sparks shoot out from the points where Bruce’s body touches the steel cage and causes the electricity to leap THROUGH him. *ZZZZZZZZZAAAAAAAAAA* With his muscles seized up by the electricity Bruce has no way of breaking contact with the cage himself, but the gods above smile on him though as ring ropes pull Bruce away from the cage just enough to break contact between flesh and steel but not before a power surge explodes all around Bruce resulting in a huge shower of sparks. *BOOM!!* “Oh thank the lord almighty, I thought Bruce was done for” Pete says with relief as Bruce’s contact with the cage is broken. “I’ll be you anything that he smells of fried bacon right about now, extra crispy” King quips, using humor to cover up just how horrifying that scene was With the electricity no longer coursing through his body, Bruce’s muscles can finally relax and the big man slowly sinks to his knees, his eyes rolled to the back of his skull as he slumps forward without even attempting to break his fall in any way. The camera moves in to get a good shot of Bruce laying on the canvas, face down revealing dark burns that run down his back where he made contact with the cage Akira nudges Bruce with his foot but doesn’t get a reaction, then he nudges him again but still no movement from the self proclaimed “King of Pain” “He could have the victory right here King, this could be the end of Bruce’s record breaking title reign” Pete says excitedly. “It doesn’t look good” King reluctantly admits. Akira reaches down to roll the big man over on his back so that he can pin him, but when Akira has him half way over on his back Bruce reaches out and either by instinct or by pure LUCK manages to grab Akira by the waistband of his trunks and pull him forward Sending the Divine Wind lunging forward between the top and 2nd rope, shoulder first into the cage. *ZZZZZZZZZ* “AKIRA HIT THE CAGE!!” Pete screams as he watches in horror *ZZZZZZZZZ* Bruce’s desperation move took Akira by so much surprise that he did not even have time to put his hands up to protect himself as he fell into the cage, this means that he ends up ramming his shoulder and side of his head right into the electrified bars as a shower of sparks engulfs the masked Japanese superstar. *BOOOM!!* The short circuit explosion sends Akira backwards again onto the canvas where he lays without moving as smoke drifts up from his shoulder and especially his mask that’s singed and torn on the side it hit the cage. “Man don’t they know California has strict “Non-smoking” rules?” King quips “Will you be serious?” Pete says as he apparently channels Gorilla Monsoon. While Akira is suffering Bruce has partially recovered from hitting the electrified cage and is pulling himself back to an upright position using the ring ropes. When he sees Akira down he can’t help but smile, even though his face is covered in blood and his left hand looks to be next to useless right now he just can’t help but smile as he sees his opponent helpless on the canvas. “I don’t like the looks of this, who knows what Bruce might do” Pete says as he starts to worry. “You say that like Bruce would ever try to intentionally hurt an opponent” “You don’t watch the same matches the rest of us watch do you?” is all Pete can say. Bruce bends over Akira but instead of covering him Bruce begins to tear at the side of his opponent’s mask, expanding the tears from the burns. F*CK YOU BRUCE!! F*CK YOU BRUCE!! F*CK YOU BRUCE!! “Whoa potty mouth – Pete do we have that many bars of soap” King says as the crowd begins to chant nasty things at Bruce. “I’m with them King, what Bruce is trying to do is despicable – if it had been in Mexico we’d have had a full blown riot on our hands, you just DON’T disrespect someone like that! Bruce has crossed the line” Pete says indignant on behalf of Akira. After a few moments of tearing at the mask Bruce actually manages to pull the mask off his bald shaved opponent and holds it up in the air triumphantly as Akira quickly covers his face with both arms to prevent anyone from seeing his face. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Bruce poses with the mask as if it was a dead elephant and he was a big game hunter, reveling in the booing and jeering from the crowd. From the height of ecstasy Bruce quickly plummets to the depths of pain as Akira lashes out at him by mule kicking backwards raising his leg up between Bruce’s and cracking a couple of nuts. OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHH!! “Right on the Mommy / Daddy button” King says as he suffers through sympathy pains. “Had it coming” is all Pete can think of to say. Akira’s whole body shakes with rage and anger as he uses his left arm to cover up his face and his right hand to tap the mat methodically to get the crowd going. AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! The kick to Bruce’s testicles made him worry more about the contents of his jeans than the mask he just stole from Akira and it’s dropped without even a second thought. An enraged Akira Kaibatsu quickly grabs tattered and blood soaked mask and pulls it back on to cover up his face before he kips up YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!! “Uh – Oh!” King says as Akira trembles like the Ultimate Warrior after 15 buckets of coffee “He shouldn’tna done that King” Pete says as if it was his job to point out the obvious. Turning intensity into action Akira explodes out of the blocks with a leaping Bulldog that drives Bruce straight into the canvas. A split second later the Divine Wind lands a lighting quick twisting elbow right to the neck of his opponent before leaping back to his feet running on pure rage this late in the match. AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! Akira drags Bruce back to his feet and then fires off a series of kicks to Bruce’s massive chest before finishing off with a spin kick that knocks the Ultraviolent champion backwards into the cage *ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ-BOOM!!* YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!! The sparks shower Bruce as he makes contact with the metal for a second before being propelled forward once more – straight into another kick to the chest by Akira *ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ-BOOM!!* YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!! For the second time in a row he hits the cage, then he is forced forward once more this time into a high speed roaring elbow that strikes him on the side of the head knocking him backwards once more. *ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ-BOOM!!* YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!! After hitting the cage three times Bruce looks like he’s out on his feet as he staggers forward with his eyes closed. Akira quickly hooks his arm around Bruce’s head for a bulldog and then runs towards the turnbuckle in the corner. “THE DIVINE WIND!!” Akira runs up the turnbuckles, flips over the top and drives Bruce’s head into the canvas executing the Divine Wind perfectly much to the delight of the crowd. Quick cover by Akira as he drops down on top of Bruce. ONE!! TWO!! THR-SHOULDERBARELYOFFTHECANVAS!! “I can’t believe Bruce managed to get in the tiniest amount of light between his shoulder and the canvas – how the hell did he do that” says Pete. Akira quickly grabs Bruce by the arm and locks up the shoulder as he forces it back onto the canvas. ONE!! TWO!! THREE-NO! At the last split second Bruce kicks his legs back and manages to break the pin-fall attempt once more. “Akira will need a tank to take Bruce out” King says confidently “Or maybe an explosion” Pete says as he looks at the clock. 03:02 03:01 03:00 ¤BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!¤ At the three minute mark all the crowd lights die down and only the lights aimed at the cage remain on while a siren begins to sound off every few seconds as the clock keeps counting down towards zero and the explosion “What the hell was that?” the Suicide King says as the entire arena is bathed in dark. “The three minute warning King and I don’t mean Rosey and Jamal – there are three minutes till the time bombs go off” Pete says as Ced Ordonez desperately yells for the cage to be opened, he just wants to get the hell out of dodge. Neither Bruce nor Akira has paid any attention to the sirens that keeps going on as red lights flash from the top of each corner instead they’ve both gotten back to their feet but Akira is still clearly in the driver’s seat.. ¤OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-WWWWEEEEEEHH!¤ Akira runs at Bruce hoping to catch him off guard but the Ultraviolent champion has fought Akira enough times to actually anticipate the attack and quickly turns it into a power slam and a weak pin-fall attempt as he’s still groggy from the Divine Wind. Ced quickly drops to his knees and slaps the mat ONE!TWO!!TH- Akira manages to kick out before three even with Ced’s lightning quick count that surprises everyone. Even Bruce is surprised at the fast count as he stares at Ced trying to figure out what the referee is up to. Bruce goes for another cover but before Ced can bring his hand down for yet another fast count Akira pokes Bruce in the eye to break the cover and attempts to get the momentum back on his side. 02:30 “Is Ced asking Akira to apply a submission move? Pleading for Akira to hurry up?” The Suicide King says with contempt as the referee desperately tries anything he can to end the match before the time runs out. ¤OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-WWWWEEEEEEHH!¤ With Bruce temporarily disoriented by the fingers to the eye Akira leaps to his feet and whips Bruce into the corner at full force and then seconds later he runs at the corner, leaping into the air for a Stinger Splash on the big man TOO LATE!! The impact of spine on turnbuckle actually knocks Bruce forward and unintentionally ducks out of the way causing Akira to crash into the top turnbuckle chest first. With Akira staggered Bruce digs deep and focuses enough to hook Akira up for a suplex which he stalls for 2-3 seconds before dropping forward into the Blank Bomb and the cover At first there isn’t a count as Ced has been trying to pry the door open with his insulated gloves and doesn’t even look at the action but as soon as he sees Bruce covering Akira he leaps half way across the ring and quickly slaps his hand on the mat repeatedly ONE!! TWO!! THR-WHYDOYOUMOCKMEGOD?? Both Bruce and Ced look totally shocked that the Blank Bomb didn’t finish Akira off “Akira has dished out and taken quite a pounding tonight, how the hell is he even able to move?” King says as the sounds of the sirens and the count down is getting his heart-rate up in the danger zone. ¤OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-WWWWEEEEEEHH!¤ “I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it but Akira has hung in there step for step in this extremely Ultraviolent match” King says in an admiring tone. “He more than hung in here, he’s been so close to winning this match on several occasions” Pete points out. 02:00 With just under 2 minutes until the bombs goes off Bruce raises his right hand in the air, fingers spread out signaling for the Iron Claw as Akira drags himself up to his knees, his vision blurred with blood and his body ravaged by the electrified cage. Before Akira is able to do anything to prevent it he feels Bruce’s 5 fingers lock on his forehead and start to squeeze with every ounce of power left in his battle weary body. “It’s the Von Erich Claw!! I heard that he learned that when he worked as a farm boy for the Von Erichs in the late 80ties – it was also how Fritz got the cows to produce more milk” The Suicide King quips mixing facts with fiction. “Will you stop?? These guys are on the verge of hell and you’re making jokes??” Pete fires back at his co-commentator ¤OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-WWWWEEEEEEHH!¤ Akira tries to pull his head away from Bruce’s trap like grip but the big man has the hold expertly applied staying in firm control of the match. He is even able to use his badly damaged left hand to keep Akira down on his knees to increase the leverage and thus the pressure on Akira’s skull “COME ON GIVE UP!! GIVE UUUUUUUUUUUP!!” Ced yells at Akira as he keeps glancing at the clock 01:30 Initially Akira struggles to get free from the Iron Claw, arms flailing left and right to try and break loose from the submission hold but as Bruce keeps the pressure up the Divine Wind’s movement dwindles as the pain starts to get to him. “HANG IN THERE AKIRA!!” the Suicide King surprisingly yells out. “What the?” Pete blurts out in surprise “Well I want to see the damn explosion Pete! The fans in the arena want to see the explosion – the viewers at home PAID for the explosion!” King says as the entire arena are on their feet following every move in the match AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! AKI-RA!! Ced has his hand raised in the air, poised to call for the bell the second it looks like Akira is out cold, just dying to end this match before the time runs out but so far he’s had no suck luck. “GIVE UP YOU LITTLE BASTARD” Bruce roars as he digs the tips of his fingers even deeper into Akira’s skin – if the Divine Wind wasn’t already bleeding heavily everyone would be able to see small trickles of blood running from each place Bruce is pressing the tips of his fingers into the skull. 01:00 ¤OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-WWWWEEEEEEHH!¤ Ever so slowly Akira’s arms drop down by his side and he starts to sag a bit instead of leaning on his knees as the pressure just gets to him. Ordonez quickly moves in and raises both of Akira’s arms in the air, since Akira refused to tap out Ced now eyes an opening to end the match. Ced releases both of Akira’s arms And they drop once Then he quickly lifts them up in the air again, holds them there for a moment to gauge if Akira even moved before he released them a second time For the second time his arms drop down limb by his side, no movement, no attempts at keeping them up. ¤OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-WWWWEEEEEEHH!¤ For the third time Ordonez grabs both of Akira’s arms by the wrists and raises them into the air for the third time. “Man this could be it, this could be all she wrote King” 00:30 Ced releases Akira’s wrists for the third time and is about to motion for the bell to ring when to his, Bruce’s , Pete’s, King’s, the time keeper’s, the fan’s and the viewers at home’s surprise Akira clenches his fists and keeps both arms raised half way in the air. YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!! “I DON’T BELIEVE IT!” the Suicide King screams as he echoes the sentiment of most of the fans in the arena. “It’s not over yet” Pete says “Soon – very soon” With his fists clenched Akira tries to summon enough heart and determination to fight back – for a moment it doesn’t seem to matter that his left arm is lacerated 7 ways from Sunday, for a moment it doesn’t matter that he’s bleeding from his mouth, nose and forehead, for a moment it doesn’t matter that the back of his neck and shoulder looks like overcooked bacon As he thrusts his right hand upwards and by sheer willpower manages to knock Bruce’s right hand off by striking it at the wrist. 00:10 “OH SHIT” Ced Ordonez yells as he looks up at the clock 00:09 ¤OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-WWWWEEEEEEHH!¤ 00:08 Akira’s second blow is thrown blindly but he manages to drive his elbow into Bruce’s private parts giving Bruce a small, personal preview of what agony lies ahead of both of them 00:07 ¤OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-WWWWEEEEEEHH!¤ 00:06 Bruce staggers forward, doubled over from the low blow 00:05 ¤OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-WWWWEEEEEEHH!¤ 00:04 Akira manages to drag himself back to his feet when he looks up and realizes how close the explosion is 00:03 ¤OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-WWWWEEEEEEHH!¤ 00:02 Ced screams a loud, high pitched girly scream as the last seconds tick down 00:01 ¤OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-WWWWEEEEEEHH!¤ 00:00 ¤BOOM!!¤ - ¤BOOM!!¤ - ¤BOOM!!¤ - ¤BOOM!!¤ First smaller charges go off on each side of the cage as a prelude to the huge fireball that engulfs the entire cage and all of the ringside area that’s been cleared especially for this match ¤BOOOOOOOOOM!!¤ Once the fireball dies out everyone in the arena just stand and watch the smoke filled cage in complete and utter silence. Nothing is visible in the cage as the smoke from the explosion only slowly lifts gradually revealing that none of the competitors nor Ced Ordonez are standing after the explosion. “We can’t have a draw can we Pete? I mean this match WILL settle it once and for all right?” King inquires as they watch the ring. “We can’t have a draw, we can’t have a no contest tonight, even if we have to sit here for 20 minutes and wait for one of them to wake up” Pete states categorically. After a few more minutes the smoke has dissipated enough we see Akira on his back, not even moving a finger. We also see Bruce on the canvas, but he’s got referee Ced Ordonez draped over his lower body. “What the hell? Can we see a replay of the last couple of seconds before the explosion” King asks as he tries to figure out what happened with Bruce and Ced. ¤¤¤¤¤ Instant Replay ¤¤¤¤¤ We’re whisked back to a few seconds before the bombs go off as we watch Bruce stagger forward in slow motion while holding his crotch. Akira looking up at the clock as it slowly ticks from 00:03 to 00:02 Ced Ordonez screaming like a little girl behind his protective outfit as Bruce grabs him and pulls the scared referee in front of himself a split second before the bombs go off. ¤¤¤¤¤ End Replay ¤¤¤¤¤ “Did I see that right? Did Bruce use Ced for protection?” Pete asks all confused. “I think he did – but Bruce is still down after the blast” King adds, as confused as Pete is right now. “I hear from the back that we’ve got another camera angle on the incident that may shine some light on the subject ¤¤¤¤¤ Instant Replay ¤¤¤¤¤ This time we see the scene from the opposite side where Bruce slowly pulls the smaller referee in front of him as the clock ticks down to 00:01, but the camera also clearly shows us that Ced crouches down to protect himself just as the bombs go off and that Bruce’s face is dangerously close to the explosions. ¤¤¤¤¤ End Replay ¤¤¤¤¤ When they return to the live feed the smoke has cleared from the ring and we get a close up of Akira and Bruce on the canvas. After a moment or two Akira finally moves as he slowly rolls over on his side to try and sit up straight YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!! “Akira is still ali-” Pete begins to say but is interrupted as Akira flops back down on the mat again totally motionless as he lays there with his arms stretched out to the side. “Oh my god! Have you seen what happened to Bruce?” King says as the camera zooms in on the side of Bruce’s head as he lays on the canvas. Bruce’s left ear looks like it’s partially torn off, the explosion that caught him unprotected did a lot of damage to his ear that’s hanging at a weird angle and bleeding profusely. After another moment or two Ced Ordonez finally raises his head and looks around, then he quickly gets to his feet and begins to laugh in relief as the suit took most of the damage and he’s relatively unharmed. “Damn it! I was looking forward to seeing Ced all crispy” King says with genuine disappointment. “So we’ve got a referee who’s up but we’ve no motion otherwi…” “HOW THE HELL CAN HE EVEN MOVE” King yells, interrupting Pete as Bruce’s hand starts to tap the canvas trying to locate Akira Kaibatsu “I can’t believe we’re seeing this – Bruce has been busted open, he’s bleed all over himself, the ring, Akira and Ced Ordonez, his ear has been mangled in the explosion yet he’s moving?” Pete says amazed at the human drama unfolding in the ring. After feeling around on the canvas for a few moments Bruce finally finds Akira’s hand and slowly drags himself over towards his opponent. Without raising his head from the canvas Bruce manages to drag himself close enough to drape an arm over Akira’s chest for a very weak cover. ONE!! “Akira moved before but that could have been the last ditch effort for a man who took the bomb blast totally unprotected” Pete says as Ced Ordonez counts the pin-fall at a regular speed. TWO!! “Even if he was only partially protected Bruce still seems to have gotten the advantage.” King surmises. THREE!!! “Ladies and Gentlemen the winner of the 5th and deciding match – AND STILL THE SWF ULTRAVIOLENT CHAMPION, THE KING OF PAIN BRUCEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE BLANK!!” The crowd is stunned, the brutality of the match was beyond what they had expected and in the end Akira had come within a hair’s breath of victory only to see it snatched away from him at the very last moment. As much as they despise Bruce the crowd shows both wrestlers a lot of respect for what they put their bodies through by refraining from booing or jeering as the SWF medical staff rushes to the ring to attend to both wrestlers. “Bruce won – barbwire, electric cage, bombs and in the end he retained the gold.” King states “But will he ever be the same again? You don’t go through a match like this without it affecting you” Pete points out “And it’s not over yet for Bruce – he’s got a spot in the ClusterFuck coming up later on as well” King reminds him “Bruce better pray that he’s got a high number so he has some time to get patched up” “From the looks of it he could have drawn number 347 and he’d still not be ready to walk down the aisle again tonight” Pete adds In the ring the EMTs are trying to put Bruce on a gurney but the Ultraviolent champion groggily pushes them away each time they attempt to do so – in the end two SWF officials helps Bruce to the edge of the ring and then supports him as he drapes his arms over both of them and use them to support him as he slowly walks to the back. “Oh man did you see the way his ear flopped down when he stood up? That was sick!” King says as he tries to get that particularly graphic image out of his mind. “He probably suffered quite a lot of damage to that on that ear King and not just externally either, he was really close to the blast when it went off” Pete adds showing off his vast medical knowledge stemming from him watching St. Elesewhere, Chicago Hope and ER for years. The last thing we see before fading out for a much needed break and backstage segment is a couple of medical technicians helping Akira to sit up as they check his eye reaction.