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Back to the Gund, where thousands of IGNWF fans fill the stands, as the cameras cut to Mak Francis and Suicide King at the booth… “Back to SWF/IGNWF Ground Zero, where the impressive newcomer Nemesis is set to face crafty veteran MANSON in a hardcore war! Hey, King, remember when, in the IGNWF, more specifically the IGNJL, MANSON debuted as Tommy Gunn?” “He is going to have your head, Mak. Regardless, Nemesis is terrifying, but he’s no MANSON.” “You saw how he destroyed Ced, obliterating him with no remorse or regard for anyone in his path, and with William Attenborough at the helm, no one is safe.” “The Professor has his own set of issues. But Nemesis’ inability to think for himself much less when in the thick of a match will cost him greatly. He can only react so quick to Attenborough’s commands through the Tome of the Gods… Wait, do you know how unrealistic this all sounds?” “Who says kayfabe is dead?” “Anyway, MANSON will win as long as he stays a step ahead of Attenborough.” “Definitely, but not as long as Nemesis manages to get his hands on him.” The buzz of the crowd drops to a hush, as the arena goes dark. A pair of echoes sweep over the audience, bringing the lights up slightly and illuminating the arena with each one. The fans rise to their feet and thick anticipation builds… Then, a guttural howl kicks “Scientific Remote Viewing” by Cephalic Carnage into full gear, as the lights flare up and seizure-inducing strobes rapidly flash and pulse in an attempt to keep with the music. To the jeers of the crowd, MANSON throws aside the curtain and enters the arena, the hood of his black robe obscuring his disgusted sneer as he pauses at the head of the ramp and looks over the sea of humanity, before heading down to the ring. “Ladies and Gentlemen,” booms Funyon, “the following is a hardcore singles match, scheduled for one-fall! Introducing first, hailing from Denver, Colorado, weighing in tonight at two hundred and thirty pounds and standing six feet, one inches tall! THE RRRRAAAAGING BULL… MMMAAANNNNSOOONNNNNN!!” He undoes his belt, letting his robe hang open, as he heads up the ring steps. Through the ropes MANSON enters, immediately heading to his corner, ascending the turnbuckles and flicking off his hood. He then throws up the horns to the continuing boos of the fans and after taking a moment to bask in the glow of the lights, he hops down. As MANSON removes his robe and lays it over the post, Professor William Attenborough walks out holding the Tome of the Gods. The crowd begins laying into him as he too heads up the steps, but a quick glance from MANSON sends him down off the apron immediately, as he screams at MANSON that he’s now incurred the wrath of his Hand of God. “Of course, this lowlife Professor Attenborough is out first, but he didn’t appear to want to get into the ring with MANSON.” “Naturally. The Professor getting knocked out wouldn’t bode well for Nemesis.” Attenborough summons Nemesis as the lights in the arena drop. Then a low rumbling impact is heard over the speakers and felt by all those in attendance as it vibrates through the entire arena, even shaking the ring. *BOOM!* The entryway then explodes in a sea of green pyro, the aftermath of which Nemesis steps through, breathing a mouthful of smoke as he stares at the ring. “AND HIS OPPONENT, hailing from Mount Olympus, weighing in at FOUR HUNDRED and TEN POUNDS, STANDING SEVEN FEET, FOUR INCHES TALL! THE HAND OF THE GODS… NNNNEEEMMMMESSSSISSSS!‘ The sounds of distant thunder and lightning is heard by all as Nemesis walks to the ring, the only illumination coming from a blacklight that makes Nemesis appear more skeleton than human. The crowd watches in awe as Nemesis steps up onto the apron and over the top rope, as the lights return to normal. He stares MANSON down from across the ring, literally twice the size of his opponent, as Referee Matt Kivell calls for the bell. *DING DING!* “I would say the size and strength advantage goes to Nemesis, King.” “Funny. I would say the awesomeness advantage goes to MANSON. Jerk.” Suddenly, before Attenborough can react, MANSON tugs a chain out of elbowpad and rushes Nemesis. He wraps it around his fist and pummels Nemesis’ masked face with it for all the good it does, which is nil. He undoes the chain, choosing to wrap it around Nemesis’ throat and strangling him with it, then yanking him down to the mat The back of Nemesis’ head bangs off the mat, as MANSON turns him onto his stomach and straddles him, gripping the chain and pulling back as Nemesis struggles. “MANSON with the early attack, managing to take Nemesis down with some wise strategy.” However, Nemesis slowly climbs onto his knees, then his feet. He reaches back, grabbing MANSON by the hair and snapping him down to the mat hard. The chain falls out of hands on impact, as Nemesis pulls him up. Punches to the gut of Nemesis have little effect, as he simply hammers down on MANSON with forearms to the back, beating him back down to the mat. “…but he’s clearly no match for the size of Nemesis, as he’s thrown off and beaten down with little effort.” “I think he’ll come eventually through… but no one said it’d be easy.” On the outside, Attenborough screams at Nemesis to crush his skull, as Nemesis then steps on the head of MANSON and off again, bringing forth a scream of anguish. Nemesis pulls MANSON up from the canvas again, this time holding onto him by his hair and raising his free arm up. He prepares the overhand chop to MANSON, however… *DING!* …a boot strikes his groin, as Nemesis halts for a moment, taking a slight breather, but doesn’t release MANSON. Nemesis raises his hand for another chop, yet MANSON… *DING!* …strikes him once again with a kick as Nemesis goes down to his knees! “I suppose that’s one way to take Nemesis down.” “Conclusive proof that a couple of kicks to the nethers will hurt a two-thousand year old zombie golem thing.” Before Nemesis can no-sell even that, MANSON hits the ropes and comes back, striking Nemesis with a big running knee to the face! He dives down, going for a cover, but Kivell barely gets down for a count before Nemesis presses MANSON nearly out of the ring. He then exits under the ropes, grabbing some jerk by the collar and tossing him out of the way, as he takes a chair and slides back in. “KICKOUT by Nemesis!” “It’s to be expected, sadly.” “And MANSON has a steel chair!” Just as Nemesis sits up and gets to his feet, WHAM, he eats the chair as MANSON hits him square between the eyes! Nemesis doesn’t go down, however, inciting MANSON to bash the chair against his kneecaps! Nemesis still doesn’t fall, as MANSON clips him with the chair from the side! Finally Nemesis falls, as MANSON stands over him with the chair, once more preparing a swing, but Nemesis grips him around the skull with the Claw! He gets to his feet, still holding onto MANSON, as he lifts him off his feet. His unimaginable power quickly gets MANSON up, but he prevents a Claw Slam, as he manages to knee Nemesis in the face! “MANSON kills Nemesis with the chair, but it doesn’t prevent him from nearly getting MANSON up for a Claw Slam!” Nemesis drops MANSON who lands on his feet and rubs his eyes with his forearm, as Attenborough tells Nemesis to go for the chair, which he does… very slowly. It allows MANSON enough time to gather himself, as when Nemesis charges MANSON, he manages to jump up and swing his leg out, getting a boot into the chair and sending it back in Nemesis’ face with a Gamengiri!! “GAMENGIRI TO THE CHAIR AND TO NEMESIS!” “See what I mean? Nemesis can’t keep up!” He drops to a knee as MANSON throws up the horns to the boos of the crowd and bounces off the ropes, charging Nemesis. But before MANSON can lay into him, Nemesis gets his hand up and grips MANSON around the face once again. Attenborough commands Nemesis to take care of things quickly, as with his frightening strength, Nemesis takes a few steps forward and throws MANSON over the ropes, clipping them as he goes by, and out of the ring! He tries in vain to grab on as he drops, but it does no good as he collides with the ground below! “CLAW SLAM! OVER THE TOP!” “More like a Claw Toss, but okay.” “Nevertheless, what an ugly landing!” Laid out, MANSON breathes heavy, as Nemesis heads after him. He lifts MANSON up, then grabs him around the throat and by the midsection, and drops him face first onto the edge of the announce table! MANSON bounces off and seeks escape, attempting to buy time, as he digs underneath the ring. He emerges with another chair, pulling it out, as Nemesis drags him by his legs. MANSON turns onto his back and throws the chair up into Nemesis’ face, merely angering the big man as he goozles MANSON and pulls him up. He rams MANSON back into the announce table, then tosses him back first against the steps, as he cringes. “Nemesis, putting our announce table to good use!” “Jesus, don’t call it like a move, you know, inside the ring. Get him the hell away from here!” With MANSON against the steps, Nemesis grabs the chair and charges, but MANSON drops and sweeps Nemesis’ legs out from under him, forcing him into the steps face first! Nemesis comes up dazed, as MANSON climbs up onto the apron and jumps off onto Nemesis, then takes him over into the jarred steps with a headscissors, again jamming his face into the steps!! “HEADSCISSORS INTO THE STEEL!“ Nemesis slumps over the stairs, as Professor Attenborough attempts to get him to stand. Meanwhile, MANSON grabs the chair, setting it up in front of the steps. Nemesis begins coming to, while MANSON steps onto the chair, awaiting Nemesis. He stands, as MANSON ducks under the near arm and unsteadily lets one leg hang loose behind Nemesis, while wrapping his arm around the chest… “An STO… off the chair, into the steps?!” “Meh, why not?!” “But somehow I get this feeling…” Indeed, that’s what MANSON attempts, as he tries to sweep the leg, but Nemesis is too big, as he takes a big elbow to the temple. He’s nearly knocked off his perch, but because of his hold on Nemesis, it’s prevented. Yet Nemesis has worse in mind, as he swings his arm back over the head of MANSON and LLLAAAAARRRRIAAAAATTOOOOOSSS him over the back of the chair and down to the ground as MANSON lands on the back of his skull in a heap!! “BIG LARIAT! OVER THE BACK OF THE CHAIR, ONTO HIS HEAD!” “Yeesh. He’s gonna be feeling that one…” MANSON lays dazed, trying to regain himself, as Nemesis takes hold and tosses him by his hair over the railing! “We’re spilling out into the crowd, King!” The Raging Bull gets to his feet, attempting to escape the onslaught, as Nemesis follows. He grabs fans by their collars, attempting to throw them in Nemesis’ way and halt his path, but they’re brushed away just as easily. Professor Attenborough and Kivell soon follows the two, as MANSON comes upon path to the concourse blocked by incoming fans and equipment. Nemesis soon catches up, as MANSON quickly heads up the adjacent steps in an attempt to buy time. Again, Nemesis’ huge strides catch up, as he clubs MANSON from behind, knocking him down to his knees. Below, Attenborough sets up a table below the balcony, as he commands Nemesis to throw MANSON down through it. “No! No! This has bad news written all over it!” “I agree. MANSON doesn’t deserve this!” “No one does, not just MANSON.” “No. Only MANSON.” Nemesis pulls MANSON up by his hair and presses him up, as security attempts to clear fans away from the scene on both ends. He takes MANSON over to the rail, but MANSON saves himself, kicking wildly and landing behind the Colossus. Nemesis makes his way around slowly, as MANSON tries to heave him over the railing, but he’s just too heavy as Nemesis eventually beats him away. He tries for the Claw grab, but MANSON ducks. Attenborough SCREAMS his commands from down below, as Nemesis turns and tries to Lariat MANSON over the top… but MANSON ducks and with all his might and the help of momentum… HE BACK BODY DROPS NEMESIS DOWN AND THROUGH THE TABLE! “HOLY SHIT!” “MOTHER OF GOD!” Mak screams, as Nemesis lays unresponsive on the ground. “Words just can’t describe… Brilliant counter, but…” Kivell quickly checks on Nemesis, while MANSON, unsure of what to do, chooses the most direct path, stepping over the railing and looking down at Nemesis from above. He screams at Kivell to get out of the way… AND DROPS THE SAVAGE ELBOW ON THE PRONE NEMESIS! “WHY!?” “He figured it would’ve taken too long going down the stairs? But what adrenaline does to some,” says King, as MANSON writhes and grabs his right shoulder. “Especially someone like MANSON.” MANSON finally manages to calm and throw an arm over Nemesis, as Attenborough implores and begs Nemesis to stand. “ONE!!” “TWO!!!” “THREE!!!!!” *DING DING!* “YOUR WINNER, BY PINFALL… MMMAAAANNNNSOOOONNNNNN!” “IT’S OVER!” shouts Mak, as the medics come rushing in to check on both. “Ugly, but MANSON got it done.” “It only took a fall off a balcony to do it, but it was enough. Nasty.” “What a match! We expected there to be blood, tons of it, but what we got instead was pure punishment. We’ll be back with more, and I can only hope both Nemesis and MANSON are alright” finishes Mak, as Kivell raises MANSON’s left hand and Cephalic Carnage blares over the speakers to take us out.

Backstage at SWF Ground Zero, Ben Hardy stands in front of an interview set-up with microphone in hand. Beside him is MANSON, the hood to his robe down around his shoulders, as he strokes his chin in thought. “Hello, I’m Benjamin Hardy and I’m here with MANSON prior to his match versus Nemesis! MANSON, it’s a tough challenge you’re facing and you’ve remained quiet as of late, so I want to ask about your thoughts going into tonight.” “Frankly, I’m not too worried,” he says as he looks up, smirking and gripping the belt to his robe. “But this Nemesis is a monster, seven foot four, four hundred and ten pounds…” “I know the stats, I’ve looked at the tapes... Next.” “You DID see what he did to Ced Ordonez, right?!” “Let’s make something clear, Ben. I’m NOT an ordinary man. I’ve toppled giants three times my size. I’ve ascended peaks, spilled the blood of thousands and set their dismembered heads on pikes, no army I’ve ever faced has ever, EVER, FUCKING EVER done to me what I intend to do to Nemesis singlehandedly. What makes you think I’m scared?! What makes you think I’m frightened?! Ben, I am better on my worst day than Nemesis on his best!” “Really.” “Everyone knows that I have never backed down, especially not to anyone like him! In fact, just look at me…” he says, as he balls up his fists and holds out his arms in front of his body. “Uh… okay…” “Brother… running through these arms, these veins, INTO MY BLACK FUCKING HEART and and into the rest of my body is power! This is what Nemesis claims to have… the power of the gods, but there can be only one true power, man, and that’s me! MANSON is the only might that matters, a light shining brightly on everyone’s dim world, making their life just a little better… they should all feel blessed that I’m here performing tonight…” “…of course.” “Everything I’ve been, every face I’ve worn, above all else, I’m the true hand of god! The power I have… is MY BURDEN and my burden alone, man! I carry the weight of the world, shouldering their suffering and their sins for them! And Nemesis is a threat to all of MANSONosity by claiming what he isn’t, he intends to take what’s mine and if he takes what’s MINE, he takes what’s YOURS!! But I assure that tonight, with that power flowing through me, I’ll take him… that colossus, the roadblock standing between me and greatness, just as I’ve done before… and throw him straight into oblivion!!” “You know, some like Professor Attenborough would call that heretical or a case of hubris…” “I know that… great minds are always doubted when they first make themselves known, but Ben, just… trust me…” says MANSON with a crooked smile, as he reaches back and pulls his hood over his head, preparing to walk out of frame, “it’s not hubris if it’s true.” “That was… something, alright,” says Mak, as MANSON exits. “Jesus, I think he’s really lost it.”

“Hello everyone, I’m Mak Francis, alongside the Suicide King and welcome to SWF Ground Zero, here, LIVE, in what would be the sold out Quicken Loans Arena,” Mak Francis begins over the fading WAR PIGS, a quizzical look beginning to form on his features. “Err, but isn’t because… well, it’s still the Gund Arena…” “And my doctor wonders why he has to prescribe so much Xanax for me…” King bemoans, holding his head as if he’s having a migraine. “I finally thought this travesty of a Fictional World Tour was over, but having seen a Tom Flesher that is straight-edge and Stubby Potts McWeed of all people, I’ve learned to just give up hope on it ever ending.” “Don’t have a Paranoid Freak-out, Applewhite.” Mak says with a smirk. “Peters says this is the last stop so I believe him.” “Hardy-har-har, Francis.” King says, rolling his eyes. “If this thing isn’t over I’ll give you a Paranoid Freak-out, but I don’t really know if it’ll hurt, since it could be a kick to the balls for all we know… though we all know how well that’ll go over with you.” Mak’s previous grin turns to a scowl at the jibe, but he remains professional and gets back to introducing the Pay-per-view. “Right, the first match on tonight’s card is very interesting considering its participants. One of which is Ced Ordonez, who received one hell of a beatdown on Smarkdown, but is out here to show the fans that he’s no pushover.” “And the other is a guy we barely know more about than the Paranoid Freak-out.” “That’s a very true statement, King.” Mak says. “For such a publicized entrance into our fed, ‘The Beast’ Gabriel Drake is something of an unknown quantity. Most of what we know—other than Joe Peter’s signed him a few weeks ago—are the hard facts… at six feet four inches, two hundred fifty-eight pounds; this guy’s a true Heavyweight and supposed to have the goods. Now, after all the hype we’ll finally get to see if he’ll live up to it.” “NIGHT OF FIRE!” “And here’s someone who we know brings the goods!” Mak shouts as the Cleveland crowd, some of whom have just filed into their seats, stand and cheer loudly for Ced Ordonez as the lights fade darkening the arena somewhat for the capacity crowd. The audience only has to wait for a second as… "FIRE!” …Out of nowhere pillars of fire explode across the stage and radiate for a brief second before disappearing back where they came from. Just as soon as they leave, the crowd gets its first view of the Bemani Cross Wizard, Ced Ordonez. Ced hops about the entrance ramp in time with Niko’s high energy song, waving his hands in an upwards motion to build up the already excited audience. The crowd begins to increase their volume as Ced stomps towards the other side of the stage, repeating the process. “As noted earlier,” King starts, “Ced Ordonez got the crap kicked out of him by the debuting Nemesis, who’s probably gonna’ kick the crap out of Manson after this match is over.” After getting the crowd as hype as he possibly can, Ordonez heads to the ring while Funyon does his introduction. “Currently making his way to the ring—from Sacramento, California, and weighing in tonight at two hundred and nine pounds, he is CED ORRRDOOOONEZZZZ!” “Well King, I don’t know about all that,” Mak comments while Ced slides under the bottom ropes and pops to his feet. “But Ced is here to prove that one lost doesn’t tarnish what I’d consider a solid workmen-like career.” Ordonez hits the turnbuckle to a generous wave of camera flashes and pops back down, doing some basic stretches. Tonight’s ref, Mark Hebner, wanders over, checking him quickly for illegal objects quickly with a wink, since he works with the full-time ref part-time wrestler while the crowd settles. King decides to fill the void. “If Ced’s career is considered solid then mine must be diamond-encrusted.” Mak just lets King’s latest jab go as the crowd waits for the match’s second participant. The dead air hangs as several moments pass creating a feeling of discomfort before an eerie blue light covers the would-be Q arena. The crowd sits on their hands, unsure what to do in the chillingly blue-filled arena as the opening twangs of a guitar echo through the Gund. The slow melody continues and is even amplified by a flash from several bright white strobe lights. The strobe’s persist, building with the song, which can now be identified by the lyrics as Rob Zombie’s “The Devil’s Rejects”. “I am the bad one… Distant and cruel one, I am the dream that, keeps you running down…” And with that ‘The Beast’ makes his way through the curtain, staring out at the audience who has yet to form an opinion of him. Drake, illuminated by a mix of white strobes and the menacing blue hue stands still, letting everyone get a good look. “With distraction… Violent reaction… Scars of my actions, Watch me running out…” “Hell doesn't want them. Hell doesn't need them. Hell doesn't love them.” “Interesting choice of theme…” Mak notes, clearly a little shaken by the song, while Gabriel Drake strolls to ringside, looking out at the crowd with an amused sneer. “Oh, this guy is impressive… he’s definitely here to kick some ass.” King remarks slightly put out by the song as well, while Funyon prepares to speak. “And his opponent, making his SWF debut, from Athens, Georgia, weighing in tonight at two hundred and fifty-eight pounds, he is ‘The Beast’ GABRIEL DRRRRRRRRAAAAAKKKKKKEEEE!” Drake climbs the ring steps and moves onto the apron, wiping his feet before swinging his legs through the ropes. Now inside the ring he stares down Ced, before going to the turnbuckle and just staring out at the crowd. “The Devil's Rejects… Rejects…” “The Devil’s Rejects… Rejects…” Gabe hops down as the song begins to fade, standing in his corner in wait. Hebner checks him quickly, avoiding his eyes as he finishes up and asks for the bell. DING! DING! DING! Ced dances in his corner, moving his feet as he assesses his foe with a gulp. He remembers the beating from last week all to well. And so does the Franchise as he calls the action. “Ced might be a little thrown off his game and we can see he’s banged up, but he’ll knuckle up and take the fight to ya’.” Ordonez does just that, deciding to answer Drake’s signal for a collar and elbow tie-up. They grasp each other, with Gabe easily winning the strength battle pushing Ced backwards with some force, but Ced slides into a side headlock using Gabriel’s own momentum against him to regain control. Ced uses the headlock to his advantage, forcing Gabe to hunch over somewhat while he grinds it in. Gabe begins to reach up to pry Ced’s arms from his head, but Ordonez releases and spins behind him, shooting a back waistlock. Gabe squats and tugs at Ced’s hands, loosening his grip so that he can quickly execute a standing switch. “And so begins the feeling out process.” Mak assesses, while Ced looks for a way out. Finding no quick escape, Ordonez, works on his opponent’s strong grip to break the hold. “Nice standing switch by Gabriel Drake there.” “Drake’s probably looking to impress, so we’ll get to see some good stuff from him if that slug Ordonez doesn’t mess everything up.” “Having been in the ring with Ced, I would say that he’s an above average ring technician and that’s something that has always been understated about him.” Mak responds, as Ced slowly moves turning into ‘the Beast’. “In my opinion the guy can flat out go.” Just as soon as Francis says this Ced quickly arches back in a modified overhead throw, falling into a back bridge for the pin. The fans give him a small cheer, as Ordonez winces in pain, his bridge faltering even as Hebner goes to count… ONE! T… …No! Drake pushes Ced off him and rolls to his belly. “Wow, barely even a one count there.” Mak says, as Ced scampers from the mat onto Drake’s back, after his pin attempt hurriedly latching on a hammerlock to control the bigger man. “I said our notes on Drake were slim, but I did a little digging and found out he is twenty-five years old, completed his training about four or five years ago at the Blue Blood Academy down in Georgia, but has no years of pro experience. How does something like that happen?” “You’re asking me?” King says in wonder, while Ced pins Gabe’s left arm to his back and wrenches upwards. “And how did you find that out?” “It’s called research, King. Some of us actually like to be prepared for work.” Mak adds smugly. “I scouted opponents in the ring and it makes sense to do the same here.” “I guess when you’re always sitting in a chair being a couch potato is a lot easier.” King snipes, getting his announce partner back. “Maybe young Gabriel took a break from the business, but if that last vignette we saw was any indication, I think it might have been something slightly more serious.” Gabe makes his way to his feet, patting his shoulder while searching for a means of escape. After a swipe between his legs to try and pick an ankle, Gabe finally is able to slowly twirl around and behind into his own hammerlock. Ordonez pats his shoulder but his smaller size allows him more freedom and he easily twirls the arm lock back into his control. A scowl across his features now, Gabe tries to reposition himself by walking in a small circle. Ced tries to stay close to Drake, but after finally gaining some separation Gabe performs a forward roll, tumbling away from his opponent to get his arm free from the offending hammerlock. Mak sees the action and calls it. “Another in a string of nice counters; this time out of the hammerlock from Drake, King—who seems to be very technically sound.” “I knew he’d be good the moment I saw him.” Although Ced still has a hold of his arm, Gabe pushes them both into the ropes and shoves him away, causing Ced to release his hold and hit the far ropes. Gabe cuts off the ring and falls to the mat lacing his leg with Ced’s, pulling him down with a drop toe hold. Floating over, Drake lands in a side headlock but he’s a little out of position and Ced feels it. Rolling out from under Gabe, Ced gains wrist control and spins over onto his belly once again twirling Drake’s arm into a hammerlock. Now facing Drake, Ced pushes down pinning the Beast’s arm behind him. “Oh goodie, back where we started!” King whines, while Ced slides his other arm in between Drake’s, trying to secure a keylock. “Can Ced do anything other than a hammerlock?” “Drake riding high and he gets’ the tables turned on him, yet again. That’s a definite sign of ring-rust… and King, it looks like Ced’s got a keylock now… that different enough?” While King harrumphs, ‘The Beast’ uses his size and strength to work his way up to a knee then his feet, breaking the keylock attempt, but Ced won’t give up on the arm so easily. He tries to bar the arm, but Gabe won’t be stopped, standing up to his feet and pushing Ced by the face to the ropes. Once again sent for the ride, Ordonez runs the ropes and rebounds back, directly into a nasty back elbow! Ced lands on the mat and Drake immediately takes off, bouncing off the near ropes and then leaps into the air, dropping an elbow—no, Ced evades by rolling to his side! Ordonez gets to his feet and rushes back into the ropes, getting a full head of steam before swinging his body down for an elbow of his own. Gabe sees it coming and rolls, but Ced gets it anyway his whole upper body striking ‘the Beast’! YEEEAAAAHHHH! The crowd having sat on their hands for most of the match let out a cheer for Ordonez, proud of his performance. As Ced slides to a knee, Gabe continues his roll exiting the ring with a disgusted look on his face. Hebner reaches over the ropes to give a warning, but Drake just waves him off and rakes a hand through his hair. “Ced got the better of Drake in that exchange and he doesn’t look happy about it!” Mak notes, while the ref decides to start a count out on the seemingly flustered rookie. Ordonez stands and moving past Hebner – who’s just about to start his count – grabbing the ropes as he slingshots himself up and over in a plancha! Gabe sidesteps in time, but the would-be plancha is a fake-out and Ced lands on the apron! Gabe moves back towards Ced and Ordonez scores a back kick staggering Drake. Ced takes a quick look over his shoulder and leaps prepping to springboard off the ropes for a flashy Asai moonsault—no, Gabe reaches up and sweeps his legs mid-air causing Ced to crash and burn face first onto the apron!! “Finally Mak, it’s a wrestler who can actually wrestle. I’m tired of seeing all the flip-foppery in our fed and Gabe’s just doing his part to curb that.” King says, as Ordonez falls to the outside at Gabe’s feet. “I notice he’s Gabe now…” Mak scoffs, as Ced begins to move crawling towards his opponent. “Come on King, Drake swiped Ced’s feet our from under him and made him hit the apron face first. It may be devastating, but how is that wrestling?” ‘ONE!’ ‘TWO!’ Hebner shouts from inside the ring. ‘Come on; get him back in the ring, Drake!’ As King attempts to come up with an explanation, Ced gets up to a knee using Gabe’s body for support. Gabe just continues to loom over him, ignoring the ref and doing nothing to stop Ced’s progress. Ced, the fighter that he is clenches a fist and weakly sends it into Gabe’s stomach, once, twice and now that he’s semi standing Ced swings a right for the face, which Gabe dodges pie-facing Ced as he back-trips him with an STO on the outside!! ‘THREE!’ ‘FOUR!’ “Well that was certainly a wrestling move, Francis!” King says gleefully, as Ordonez starts to move on the thin padding. “I know you noticed his interesting technique.” He adds, when Ced rolls to all fours holding his neck. ‘FI-Damnit, Drake!’ Hebner shouts, while Gabe slides half his body under the ropes, to restart the count. “Yeah, nice pie-face with that STO and it just seems so convenient that it occurred around the ring, not in it…” Mak responds, while Gabe toes Ced in the back of the head. “‘The Beast’ breaks the count and it’s clear to me all he’s looking to do is more damage on the outside. Ordonez is a guy with a history of concussions and after that Nemesis match and those last few moves, who knows how Ced’s head is doing. I think I’m starting to not like this guy, Drake…” ‘ONE!’ “Then that’s all the more reason for me TO like him, Mak!” Hoisting Ced up by his hair, Gabe lines Ced up and then shoulder tackles him into the steel post back first, causing Ordonez to cry out in pain. Some fans begin to boo the assault, but Drake just picks Ced up again and measures him, before ramming him lower-lumbar first into the ring apron! ‘TWO!’ Sliding down, Ced holds his back trying to relieve some of the sting, but Gabe gives him little time, tossing him into the ring. Back inside, Gabe pursues the now crawling Ordonez and yanks him to his feet, slipping around behind and arching backwards in a tight Belly-to-back suplex! Drake covers, Hebner counts… ONE! TWO! TH… …NO! Ced kicks out! But Drake is right back on him with a lateral press from the opposite side! ONE! TWO! THR… …NO! Ced kicks out again! Mak begins to speak, only to get interrupted by King. “-What a Backdrop suplex!” He parrots. “Drake’s a Stud, Mak.” King adds his partners face showing how much he liked King’s lack of couth. “It’s such a joy getting to see him toss Ordonez around and he’s picked up on the fact that his opponent’s having some lower back and ribcage troubles.” Surprised, Mak gives King his due. “Great point, King. I hadn’t really noticed it until now, but Ced was favoring his mid-section since this started. It must have got hurt there when the big man splashed him last week.” Mak includes, as ‘the Beast’ crawls over to Ordonez, grabbing a sleeper from behind. “Drake must have realized it when Ced couldn’t hold the bridge on that early pin.” With the hold secure, Gabe wraps a leg around him rocking Ced to his side so he can slide the other one on as well. With the hold locked in, Gabe leans back and stretches Ced out zapping his energy. “And I also don’t think Drake really believed he’d get the win on those last two covers.” Mak analyses. “It was designed to fatigue Ced, just like this Rear Naked Choke with the hooks in.” On the mat, Ced tries to move around to little avail. Pulling at Drake’s bicep, he attempts to get some space between his neck and his opponents forearm. “I agree with you, as shocking as that is to me personally.” King concurs snidely, as Gabe shouts for the referee to ‘Fuckin’ ask him!’ so Hebner moves in and checks on Ced’s arm, which is reaching out towards the crowd. “Gabe’s using this sleeper with body-scissors to wear Ordonez down after he’s been wearing him out on the outside. Plus, the added benefit of catching a breather from kicking his ass.” Checking his hand, Hebner backs away as Ced directs the point of his elbow into the Drake’s leg. The crowd begins to cotton on cheering, clapping and stomping as he raises it once more and then drives down, again and again… and again… breaking the body-scissors! “Ced’s starting to break free and here we go…” Francis says, as now able to move, Ced forces them both’ to their feet and lands a few more elbows to sever it completely. Rushing to the far ropes, Ced flies back and ducks under a clothesline. Gabe steps forward after missing the attack and catches Ced by surprise, lifting him up on his shoulder, before turning and dropping him across the top rope!! Mak makes the call, as Ordonez’s head snaps back and he ricochets to the canvas. “Some people call that a Stungun and for all I know, Gabriel Drake may call it something else, but either way that Hotshot-like maneuver did its job!” Ced, struggling to breath, tries to get up and fight. Meanwhile Gabe takes off for the ropes below them and sprints back, just as Ced, still hunched over, makes it to his feet- CRACK! -and gets a running knee-lift to the chin!! Ordonez stumbles, miraculously staying on his feet, as Gabe strikes off for the ropes again, gaining extra momentum before- WHAAAAAAM! -pulverizing Ced with a huge Lariat!! Ced flops to his belly getting knock ass over elbow for the second time in as many weeks! Gabe doesn’t hesitate at all, hopping back to the near ropes and rebounding back with a knee drop to the back of Ced’s head, rolling through to a crouch! Drake shoots a half hooking the leg, Hebner counts… ONE! TWO! THRE… …NO! Ordonez gets a shoulder up! “What a combination.” King squeals, as ‘the Beast’ readjusts his kneepad. “He’s a different breed of wrestler from the cruisers we see all the time here. He’s powerful—agile when it counts, but most importantly he just looks like a superstar.” “What a combination, indeed.” Mak reaffirms, while Ced edges towards the closest corner, but for different reasons. “After that Stungun, Drake landed a Million dollar knee-lift, Shotgun Lariat and knee drop all in succession. Impressive stuff.” “And he looked like a superstar doing it.” King says again, as Ced pulls himself up in the corner. Drake, now to his feet also, moves over to Ced and lands a kick to his mid-section. Grabbing the ropes for support, he proceeds to stomp a mud-hole and once Ced is down, choke him with his boot! ‘ONE!’ ‘TWO!’ ‘THREE!’ ‘FOUR—Break it, Drake!’ Hebner yells, causing Drake to do just that with a smirk. ‘The Beast’ walks Ced to the center of the ropes by the arm and propels him forward with an Irish whip. Gabe lowers his head for a backdrop and the rookie mistake is immediately spotted by Ced even in his current state. Stopping on a dime, Ordonez rears back and kicks Drake right in the face! Stunned, Drake is wide open as Ced clenches a fist- BAM! -and lands a punch to the side of Drake’s head! But Gabe answers back- WHAM! -nailing Ced in the jaw with a side-arm punch! The two now stand center ring, trading right-hands back and forth!! BAM! WHAM! BAM! WHAM! BAM! WHAM! “Does Ced really think he can win this fist fight?” …King comment looms in the air as Drake is ready to block the next punch, having gotten his timing, but Ced breaks the trend and with an impressive vertical leap, snaps off a standing huracanrana!! Ordonez stands, cradling his ribs briefly, as Gabe rushes back to his feet a little bit off kilter and Ced takes advantage kicking at his left hamstring, once, twice, three times bringing him down to a knee before- CRACK! -landing a sick roundhouse right in Drake’s ear-hole!! As Gabe falls, Ced takes off for the ropes, bouncing back and jumping high, crashing into his body with a senton!! Ordonez sits up with a grimace, but quickly flips over and falls into a lateral press, as Hebner counts… ONE! TW… …NO! Drake forcefully shoves Ced off him! “Ced getting some good offense, especially that huracanrana, but Drake kicks out at one!” Mak mentions, as Ced stands up quickly realizing that if he lets Gabe up it could mean trouble. Ordonez smacks some forearm blows on the back of the rising Drake, then grabs him by the head and fires a forearm to his face! ‘The Beast’ answers back by shoving Ced, head over heels to the mat – but Ced bounces right back up to his feet. Drake stomps forward, clearly pissed and ready to hurt someone, but that gets interrupted by a low dropkick! “Dropkick to the knee by Ced helps him keep control and now he lifts Drake back up for an Irish whip—no reversal!” The Franchise calls. “Ced runs the ropes, ducking a back elbow and…” Mak pauses, as Ced leaps onto the middle rope and springboards back with an elbow to the mush!! “Whoa, what a springboard back elbow!” “It was OK…” King begrudgingly admits and Ced, while checking his mid-section, sits up looking around for his fallen opponent before crawling into a cover, trapping the near leg and hooking the far one while Hebner counts… ONE! TWO… …NO! Drake thrusts Ordonez off him again! “Ced, continuing to string some solid offense together, but he still can’t get longer than a one count off Drake.” Ced runs a hand through his hair and stands, trying to come up with something to put a dent in ‘the Beast’s’ armor. “That’s because he doesn’t have anything in his arsenal that can really hurt Drake!” “Untrue, King.” Mak responds, as Ced grabs Gabe by the head again. “We both know Drake’s rusty and if Ced can get him down long enough to hit his Fire Soul—a devastating Corkscrew Swanton Bomb, that could definitely get it done! Or after a little bit of legwork he could tie him up in the Nagata lock for a submission.” With a hunched over Drake in his control, Ced grabs a tuft of hair and goes to work- CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! -lighting up his face by force feeding Drake his white boot six times as they twirl in a slow circle of pain!! “Oh, and those Kawada kicks aren’t just for show either!” Mak adds, as Ced goes for one last kick – but ‘the Beast’ catches the foot and blinking in pain rises to his feet. Ced begins to hop trying to keep his balance, as Gabe smirks and wags his finger- CEEEEEERACK! -only to get BLASTED with an Enzuigiri!!! Drake slowly crumples to the canvas, as Ced pushes himself to his hands and knees, scampering into a cover, hooking the far leg so far that he’s back-first on Gabe! “The quick feet and balance inherent in being a Bemani Cross Wizard have paid dividends tonight for Ced.” Mak notes, while the ref counts… ONE! TWO! THRE… …NO! Gabe kicks out, but is missing a lot of the power from his earlier ones. “And finally, Ced gets a near-fall!” Ced sits up and smiles, the pain in his ribs forgotten, having finally wounded ‘the Beast’. Nonplused, Gabe begins moving towards the ropes and lifts himself to his feet with their help, as Ced backs up into the near ropes. Just as Gabe turns and takes a few steps towards center ring, Ced launches himself at Drake in a high kick that sends Gabe tumbling through the cables and to the outside!! YEEAAAAHHHH! “And Ced is a house-a-fire, King!” Mak shouts, as the crowd cheers Ordonez who is waving his hands in the air. Ced, having gotten some of the crowd to its feet, pauses and looks around. “What’s about to happen here?” Mak asks no-one in particular, as Ced rushes back into the ropes against the wishes of his fellow referee… “This is not happening…” King comments, while Ced continues to run, grabbing the top cable briefly, before flinging himself head over heels onto a rising Gabe in a TOPE CON HILO!!! RRRRRAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHH! And that officially brings the rest of the crowd to its feet!! “Oh, but it is, King!” Mak rebuts, as Hebner leans through the ropes checking both men. In response, Ced sits up protecting his ribs, while Gabe shakes his head on the floor. Ced pushes himself up and walks over to Drake, who is up to a knee and lands a forearm to the face! Picking Drake up, Ced cracks him with a hamstring kick and then, after looking over his shoulder at the steel steps, yanks Gabe ahead – but ‘the Beast’ is far too strong and reverses the whip- CLANG! -sending Ced directly into the STEEL! The audience deflates like an untied balloon, as Ordonez sits tilted over the steps having hit them knees first-stomach second!! Gabe stands, admiring his handiwork, as Ced bangs his hand on the steps in pain… “Now THAT had to hurt!” King’s words tell the tale, as Gabe gets up and upon a warning from the ref about a count, tosses Ced inside the ring. Back in, Ordonez is easy picking for ‘the Beast’ as he tries to gain a vertical base. Using the ropes, Ced is able to make it up, but Gabe kicks out his left leg sending him back to the mat! Placing his leg on the bottom rope, Drake keeps it in place with his foot and bouncing on the ropes, drops back down crushing it! Ced reaches for his leg, but Gabe dragging him center ring, extends Ced’s leg and placing his foot on Ced’s gut for balance, flying overtop trying to hyperextend his hamstring! Gabe repeats the process one more time and then slowly stands to his feet. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! “It seems that the crowd has finally made a decision on Gabriel Drake and the consensus is… they hate his guts!” Mak says, as after a loud reaction from the crowd, Gabe stands and poses. “Look at him—he’s taunting the crowd now!” “So?” King asks, as Gabe points out a fan telling him to ‘shut his fuckin’ mouth’. “He’s cocky, which is always a good thing in this business.” “He’s a smug, overconfident, son-of-a-bitch, period.” “You’re one to talk, mister Franchise…” King says from his high horse, adding air-quotes. “It’s called gamesmanship… and you did it all the time too!” “I could say the same for you, Brian!” Mak hisses, a dig at the Suicide King moniker. “But at least I paid my dues in the amateurs and won some SWF matches before I started acting like I was unjustly or not—pardon my French—the shit, unlike this guy!” Mak continues, lucky he’s on PPV tonight. “Oh and I didn’t make-up my nickname, Applewhite, I earned it in the amateurs unlike some people I know!” “Jeez, don’t pop a wheelie, Francis…” King mutters, as Drake drags Ordonez back to the ropes and sets up Ced’s leg again. “Maybe we should see Stubby about some medicinal marijuana to calm you down.” Drake bounces on the ropes and jumps again – but this time nobody’s home, as Ced moves his leg off the ropes! The audience cheers, as Gabe holds his tailbone in pain! Mak gives up his argument with King due to the sudden reversal of fortunes. “Come on, Ced!” Mak yells, while Ced attempts to regroup, using the ropes to get to his feet. “Gabriel Drake making a mistake after getting too cocky and it bit him in the ass!” YEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHH! Ced makes his feet, just as Drake turns around and he stumbles from the ropes right into a punch! ‘The Beast’ responds in kind with his side-arm punches… BAM! WHAM! BAM! WHAM! BAM! WHAM! BAM! WHAM! BAM! WHAM! BAM! WHAM! …WHIFF! The riled up crowd groans as Ced swings over the ducking Drake, who laces his arms behind Ced for another backdrop suplex—no, Ordonez latches his legs around Gabe’s and in a show of grit and determination rolls forward dragging Drake down in a cross kneelock! TAP! TAP! TAP! TAP! The chant starts instantaneously, but with Ced’s forward roll the ropes are possibly within reach for Drake!! Dragging Ced’s weight with him, Gabe pulls himself closer to escape as Hebner asks if he wants to submit… TAP! TAP! TAP! TAP! The chants get loud the closer he gets to the bottom cable… his fingers graze the rope, as Ced torques his leg hoping for the win, but with one last tug Gabe gets in the ropes!! BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Ced releases immediately, rolling away as Hebner asks for the break. As Ced awaits Hebner’s word, Gabe starts getting up to his feet and upon a clap from the referee, Ordonez hobbles in with a kick to Drake’s leg!! Trying to keep the pressure on, Ced kicks again, getting Gabe to shuffle towards the middle of the ring! Ordonez looks for the knockdown kick, swinging his leg ahead – but Drake catches the limb and this time without hesitation or taunting, wrenches him down to the canvas with a Dragon screw leg-whip!!! “Oh no!” Mak cries out, while Ced holds his leg in agony! “That Dragon screw came at just the right time for Drake. He’s been rusty all match, but this was the perfect time to come up big.” “Oh yes, no enzuigiri this time, Ordonez!” King says, as Gabe pushes himself back to his feet and readjusts his kneepads. On the mat, Ced brings his leg close to his body, as Drake stands tall accepting the ‘boos’. Walking over to Ordonez, ‘the Beast’ steps on his head to King’s pleasure and then toes him over so that he can choke him!! “Whoa-boy, Gabe’s got a mean streak in him!” ‘ONE!’ ‘TWO!’ ‘THREE!’ ‘FOUR!’ Finally, Gabe breaks right at five, Hebner having to physically move in between him! Hebner gets in Drake’s face about his stretching the rules, so Gabe pushes him away! Hebner doesn’t take to kindly to that, pointing to the SWF logo on his referee shirt. “You should DQ him, Hebner!” “Says the guy that broke almost as many rules in his SWF career as me.” As the announcers argue, Ced makes it to his knees and struggles to push himself up, so Drake begs off the ref and marches around him, bouncing off the ropes and implanting his boot into Ced’s face with a high kick!! Ced blinks on the mat then reaches out towards his opponent, trying to get back up. Gabe obliges him, grabbing Ced by the hair and hauling him up in a front facelock before lifting him over in a suplex! After landing, Ced’s hand gravitates between his back and leg, before he begins to favor his ribs. Turning to his belly to avoid a pin, Ced inches on the canvas towards the ropes. Stepping on Ced’s ankle as he tries to crawl away, Drake toes him in the face and then backs up and punts him in the ribcage! “Well, it’s more of the same from Gabriel Drake.” Mak says, shaking his head while ‘the Beast’ hits another kick. “He’s really been taking it to Ced except for a few comebacks here and there.” “Any comeback Ced makes is superficial in the grand scheme of things, Francis, because he won’t win this match!” Bringing Ced to his feet, Gabe backs him up in the ropes and sends him away. Measuring for punch, Gabe stands ready as Ced comes back—no, Ordonez slides between Gabe’s legs! Surprised, Gabe turns and gets a boot to the gut, stunning him! Ced, pushing through the pain in his leg and ribs, bends and hoists all 258lbs of Drake into a fireman’s carry and then taking a step forward somersaults in a Regal Roll!!! “Ced just keeps on fighting!” Mak announces, while Ced limps over to the corner. “And—hey, he might just have a shot to end this! Come on, Ced! Climb up top!” “He’s taking too much time…” Ordonez slides through the ropes and slowly goes up top; carefully attempting to get his balance for the Fire Soul – but Gabe suddenly jumps into the picture with a punch to the gut, so that he lands crotch-first in the corner!! Gabe lines up Ced and- SMACK! WHOOOOOOOOOO! SMACK! WHOOOOOOOOOO! SMACK! WHOOOOOOOOOO! -absolutely PLASTERS Ced with three knife-edge chops!! Chest beat red, Ced is easy pickings as Drake jumps- THWACK! OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH! -and pretty much DEMOLISHES Ordonez with a leaping palm strike!! The audience even substitutes a shocked sound for the commonly used chant! Hopping up onto the second rope, Gabe hooks Ced and then, throws his arm off, wagging his finger as he goes all the way up to the top rope… “This is gonna’ hurt…” Mak winces, sure of his words as Gabe picks Ced up to his feet and they both now stand on the top rope, before Drake leverages them both up and over so that they collide with the canvas in a certified train wreck!!!!! BANG! “A TOP ROPE Superplex, Francis!” King crows, as both men lay in the ring a mass of humanity. “Not just a suplex, or even a superplex, but a TOP ROPE SUPERPLEX!” As Hebner checks on them, Drake slowly moves to his hands and knees, crawling over to Ced. He hooks the leg, Hebner counts… ONE! TWO! THREE! NO! Ced raises a shoulder up! “I honestly have no idea how Ced kicked out of that one.” Mak states, as Drake looks to the ref and claps his hands three times! Standing up, Gabe stares a hole in Hebner for his perceived slow count and then toes the deceased looking Ced. “I’ll tell you how… it was a slow count!” King responds, as Drake picks Ced up by the hair. “Please, don’t get on the ref about that count, King.” Mak adds, while Ordonez struggles to clear his head. “Hebner’s been real consistent tonight and doesn’t need the grief!” ‘The Beast’ grabs Ced by the head and arm, interlocking his hands in an Arm triangle choke... "Drake's got a standing arm trap with a choke. An arm triangle choke for those interested in MMA..." Mak notes King's scoff as Drake pauses and then snaps him down onto his knee!! King wasn't scoffing at that. "Damn, that's something new!" Not finished, he stands back up and pauses, giving the crowd a good view before flinging Ced back in a swinging Complete shot—or would have, had Ced not readjusted his flying body in mid-air and grasping Drake’s wrist, countered with a unbelievable arm-drag!!!! Completely shell-shocked, Gabe rushes the woozy Ced who spins off a second arm-drag!!! Drake sprints forward again raising his leg for another high kick, but Ced seemingly going on instinct this entire time catches the foot and twirls to the mat in a Dragon screw!!! “Ced returning the favor on Drake’s takedown earlier in the match—and the veteran Ordonez is following up, something his opponent didn’t do!” Mak calls, as Ced reaches down securing the left leg and spinning to try and pretzel it into a four!! “Could we be about to see the Cross Lightening?!” RRRAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHH! The crowd seems to think so... ...but sadly the answer to that is no. A boot to the face and one more to the side of the dome sends Ced falling into the ropes holding his head. Drake pushes himself to his vertical base, as Ced uses the ropes to gain his feet. Ced turns around, just as Gabe dashes ahead lowering his head for a spear… but he eats boot from Ordonez, snapping his head back!! Ced, body tired, doesn’t have it in him for another power move, so he falls back lacing his legs with Drake’s in a small package, as Hebner counts… ONE! TWO! THREE… …NO! Drake breaks his legs free! “Ced getting an inside cradle for two-” Mak starts as popping out, Drake gets up off the canvas only to be drug right back down in a school boy pin, which Hebner counts… ONE! TWO! THREE-AHNOOO! “-And this time with a school boy he almost got the duke! What tenacity shown b-” Mak adds, while Gabe crawls on the mat, trying to stay away from anymore flash pins when a blur of blue dives over the top over him hooking his leg and arm for an Oklahoma roll!!! “OKLAHOMA ROLL! He may have him!” Mak shouts, as Hebner dives across the ring, sliding into position to count… ONE! TWWWOOO! THHRRREEEEEEEE! “THANK GOD!” The crowd can’t believe it, but Gabe Drake pushes a shoulder free!! Ced looks to his fellow ref to confirm and gets a nod and two fingers. Ced makes his way to the nearest corner trying to regroup after being so close to winning. “This is like a bad dream coming to life…” King mumbles, adding to his ‘THANK GOD’ earlier. Ordonez knows he needs to stay on Drake after that series of near-falls, so when he sees Gabe pulling himself up in the opposite corner, Ced digs down and sprints across the ring as fast as a limping man can, jumping into the air for a Stinger Splash—no, nobody home, as ‘the Beast’ evades the assault!! Ced sits propped up in the corner facing out towards the crowd, who try to warn him to look out… …but he can’t do anything except have Gabriel Drake chop-block his already injured knee!!! “Never mind, it’s a dream come true!” King says quickly, as clutching his leg like a small baby, Ced falls back to the mat in anguish. Walking over to Ced, Gabe picks him up by the hair and points a finger in his face, saying something before whipping him towards the corner HARD… THUNK! …the worst part of it being Ced’s knee buckling causing him to spiral under the turnbuckles and into the STEEL POST back-first! “Oh man, that wasn’t pretty…” Is all Mak can say as Ordonez sits against the post bent around it like a bow!! Pulling Ced away from the corner and into center ring, Gabe once again lifts Ordonez by the hair and double underhooking his arms, arches back in a nasty suplex!! Ced rolls on the canvas in pain, after the huge throw, but Drake pays this no mind picking him up again… “Excuse my language folks, but this is bullshit!” Mak spits out, lucky he’s on PPV for the second time tonight. “Ced’s hurt. His ribs are busted up, his knee has been put through the ringer, but apparently that’s not enough! Drake probably could have got a pin on that, but he’s not even trying for them anymore!” “He’s been trying alright… to not only embarrass, but really brutalize Ordonez all night. And since that last flurry of pin-fall attempts he's making sure he won't get lucky. That and he's a mean S.O.B! Personally, I’m glad he’s putting the guy back in his place!” King is correct in his assessment, as Gabe pushes Ced into the corner; probably hoping his knee will buckle again as he whips him towards the turnbuckles this time following him in. But Ordonez musters some more of his reverses and hops onto the second buckle halting his momentum, before springing back in a cross-body… which Gabe catches!! Not even stumbling under the weight of Ordonez, ‘the Beast’ brings him center ring and drops him in a rib-breaker, once, twice, but on the third one Gabe walks Ced over to the ropes and tosses him overhead like a rag doll to the outside!!!!! “UNBELIEVABLE!” Mak screams, as Drake turns to see his handiwork and spins right into a jumping kick to the FACE!!! “Ced holds on and gets a Gamengiri!!” Gabe falls back to the mat, holding his face, while Ced looks around from his position crumpled on the apron, trying to will up the energy to get on the top rope!! The crowd cottons on and lets loose a huge cheer, while Ced shuffles from the apron, up the turnbuckles one at a time… “Come on, Ced! GET UP THERE!” Mak says, but Ced doesn’t have the energy to hit the Fire Soul, so he stands and jumps off landing a TOP ROPE Double stomp!!! Collapsing forward to the canvas, his leg burns along with his ribs. He’s too far away to just fall back into a pin so Ced pulls himself backward and lays back into a cover, Hebner sliding across and even out half out of the ring to count… ONE! TWWWOOOOOO! THHHHRRRRRRRREEEEEEEE!! “He got him!” Mak screams! “He kicked out!” King shouts! They both look to Hebner, much like Ordonez and everyone in the arena, who is holding two fingers into the air!! “I can’t believe it!” Mak says his head hanging. Ced, shaking his head, rolls out of the ring knowing he has nothing left and knowing Drake hasn’t been going for the pin, he needs an equalizer to stop himself from a fate like Smarkdown. “Ced’s been trying so hard and after all that he couldn’t get the pin.” Mak adds. “He must know that he’s got nothing left in his arsenal that can put Drake away… and he doesn’t think the guy will even take a pin if he gets one considering the way the match has been going! He’s not going to let himself relive the beating Nemesis gave him after fighting so hard to prove he’s nobody’s pushover!” Grabbing a chair Ced holds the object contemplating what he’s about to do, as Gabe slaps himself in the face to clear the cobwebs! “I can’t believe a ref’s thinking about breaking the rules!” “Shut up, King!” Mak spits. “Ced, you wrestled a good match! You don’t have to do this!” Mak says, as he slides under the ropes with the chair as Hebner tries to reason with him. Ced looks at his fellow referee and then the chair, now sure what he’s gonna do. Hebner grabs at the chair, but Ced is quicker and swings at the now standing Gabe DQ be damned- WHOOSH! -who spins and ducks under the blow sensing it coming!! Hefting him up on his shoulders causing the chair to drop harmlessly, Gabe stares out at the crowd… “Drake ducks! Drake’s got him up for a Death Valley-” as he slides Ced from the carry onto his back, cradling his left leg in his arm!! “-what the hell is this?” Mak asks as Drake drops down in a stunner, compacting Ced’s chin like a sledge-hammer crushing a can!!!! Ordonez’s head snaps back and Gabe releases him to fall to the mat, spread eagle. “Well, that was—honestly I don’t know… some kind of a stunner variation.” “It was damn cool whatever it was!” “He almost had him up there like he was giving him a piggyback ride…” Dropping Ced back to the mat, Gabe slowly stands and shakes his head. Oh he’s far from done, tonight. Standing over Ordonez, Gabe lifts him once again and places him into a standing head-scissors. Ced, truly having been knocked loopy by the last move, has no fight left in him as he’s dragged up into the air with Gabe’s hands on his back holding him up only to send him right back down!! BANG! The Powerbomb hits with a dull thud, but Drake hoists against with a deep knee bend, dropping Ced on his battered body in a second Powerbomb!! BANG! Letting Ced crumple to the canvas, Drake steps away and looks out at the crowd who is booing him mercilessly. Pushing some hair out of his cold eyes, ‘the Beast’ stalks back over to Ced, brushing past the ref who is now shouting at him to make a pin. Raising Ced into another standing head-scissors, Gabe whips him up one more time and hands on his back to steady him, Drake walks in a slow circle before falling to his knees and pulverizing Ordonez with a final Spiral Powerbomb!!! BOOM! “God, he doesn’t need to do all this.” “Well, Ced didn’t NEED to try and hit him with a chair, did he Mak!” “That’s true, but I think Ced knew this would happen if he didn’t.” Grabbing the probably knocked-out Ced he lifts his left leg over his own neck and then turns slightly before practically sitting down on his head!!! “Oh my—he’s got him in a Stretch Muffler with a kind of crab and he’s just sitting on it… the pain he must be in—in that Stretch Muffler Crab. That can break a mans leg...” Mak mumbles out as Ordonez screams out in anguish, the throbbing tormenting him as his body begins to shut down from the pain!! His ribs on fire and leg being jarred at an ugly angle, Ced Ordonez looks to be passed out… but Gabe doesn’t release the hold!!! DING! DING! DING! “That’s it! It’s over!” King crows, the crowd upset at that ending for Ced, but Hebner had to do something. “Mercifully.” Mak adds, as Drake drops his opponents leg and Funyon makes the call. “Due to referee’s decisions that Ced Ordonez is no longer able to compete… the winner of this match, by submission, ‘THE BEAST’ GABRIEL DRRRRRRAAAAAAKKKKKKKEEEEEEEE!” BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! “Well, that was quite the introduction for Gabriel Drake, Francis!” King says, as Drake’s hand is raised to the jeers of the crowd, while his theme hits. “He’s got some interesting moves, the stunner variant for one and that—what did you call it, Stretch Muffler Crab was something else! If he put that on someone for too long it could probably break them in half!!” “Yeah,” Mak starts, taking off his shades and looking at Drake as he exits the ring, ‘The Devil’s Rejects’ still playing eerily through the arena. “The Crab and that Piggyback Stunner were impressive.” Mak adds giving the move a name. “He seemed a little rusty, his opponent gave him one hell of a fight, and he made some rookie mistakes, but ‘the Beast’ is a man to be feared. Those vignettes weren’t joking folks… I saw it ground zero and we should all, definitely, fear the beast.” FADE…

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents... SWF GROUND ZERO! Live, Sunday, July 30th, ALONG WITH IGNWF GROUND ZERO, IN THE GUND ARENA IN AN ALTERNATE TIMELINE! (6pm PST, 10pm EST; check local listings) (Send all promos/marked matches to chirs3) PAY PER VIEW THEME SONG: WAR PIGS! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- THE MAIN EVENT - SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH Michael Stephens © vs. JJ Johnson --> Long ago, these two men were in a stable together. A month ago, JJ had some very strong words for the World Champion. Fighting champion that he is, Stephens took offense, and while he didn't want to give JJ a shot, Joe Peters did. One elbow later, and there's baaaad blood between these two. JJ Johnson fights to prove Michael Stephens, and the world, wrong, but has he got what it takes? Rules: Standard singles match. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH - LADDER MATCH Michael Cross © vs. Zyon --> Zyon doesn't like Cross, because some would say Cross screwed him out of his Cruiserweight Title at 13th Hour by taking Akira's place after some serious ass-kicking. Cross doesn't like Zyon because Zyon's bitching is technically unfounded, and also, because Cross doesn't like anybody. Will Zyon get revenge on Cross? Will Cross cheer up, emo kid? Whose cuisine will reign supreme? CROSS. ZYON. BIG BATTEL AT GROUND ZERO. Rules: Standard ladder match. Belt hanging approximately 20 feet above the ring. First to unhook it wins. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SINGLES MATCH "The Superior One" Tom Flesher © vs. Grendel -> These two have been clashing for weeks on end, and it always seems like Tom Flesher gets the drop on the masked one! MatFlesh took him down in a Handicap match, then stole his mask and degraded him in front of millions! Grendel has almost reached the breaking point - is this all part of Tom's brilliant strategy to end him once and for all, or has the Superior One created a monster that even he cannot defeat? Rules: Standard singles match. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SWF INTERNATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH Bruce Blank © vs. Charlie "Grappler" Matthews -> Bruce Blank beat some ridiculously tough competition in the International Championship Open Invitational, and now that he's captured the title, he's going to have to beat some ridiculously tough competition to keep it! First up - Charlie "Grappler" Matthews, a former ICTV Champion himself! Rules: Standard singles match. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SINGLES MATCH Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix vs. "The Dean of Professional Wrestling" Jay Hawke -> BECAUSE, that's why! It's a Pay Per View! Pay Per View's get big matches! THIS IS A BIG FREAKING MATCH! Rules: Standard singles match. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- #1 CONTENDERSHIP TO THE SWF INTERNATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP "The Divine Wind" Akira Kaibatsu vs. "Hollywood" Spoon Jenkins -> One problem with the International Championship Tournament - who gets to fight for the title now that it's been claimed? We'll be working those details out RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW~! These two have a little bit of - OK, a hell of a lot of history, if memory serves. Tonight they fight for the right (to party!) to be the second man to challenge for the International Championship! Rules: Singles Match. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- HANDICAP MATCH Wildchild vs. Kerry Staunton and Scott Rageheart -> Wildchild's just itching for a shot at Mike Van Siclen, but his overzealousness may be his undoing! Mike agreed to a match only IF Wildchild can beat the team of Kerry Staunton and Scott Rageheart, and he has to beat them clean! Wildchild is certainly a force to be reckoned with, but is it possible that he's bitten off more than he can chew with this one? Rules: Standard handicap match, tags required. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SWF HARDCORE CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH - HOUSE RULES STAIRWAY TO PANDA MATCH Jimmy the Doom © vs. Trent Hawk vs. Mike Van Siclen vs. Insane Luchador -> Considering we're double booked with the IGNWF, we figured we should try to give a classic IGN match a new SWF-spin! So tonight, one of the most infamous matches in IGNWF History, THE STAIRWAY TO PANDA, will be fought in the SWF! Let's show those losers how it's done! Rules: There is a stuffed panda hanging above the ring, wrapped in barbed wire. Should you reach this panda, it is free to use how you see fit. There will be ladders all around the ring to use however you see fit. First pinfall wins. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- HARDCORE MATCH Nemesis vs. Manson -> So, Nemesis pretty handily destroyed his first opponent here in the SWF. Now let's see if he can handily destroy THE POWER OF MANSONOSITY~! Rules: RULES?! NO RULES! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- OPENING BOUT "The Beast" Gabriel Drake vs. Ced Ordonez -> There's been much ado about something, recently, as "The Beast"'s entry into the SWF has been highly publicized. It would seem, though, that some people here aren't exactly thrilled with his arrival. One of those people is Michael Stephens. I imagine, after this message, another one of those people will be Ced Ordonez. Rules: Standard singles match. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The only children's stories I remember growing up with are Alexander and the Horrible, Terrible, No-Good Very Bad Day, and Why Mosquitos Buzz In People's Ears. I'm sure there were others, but those are the only two I recall.

Never heard of it.

Or we could run the Canadian Tour (or some other tour) up to Genesis, and give people more time to finalize their list and vote.

Not I, said the fox. Not I, said the fly. Has to rhyme, you dork. Either that, or it's Yet Another Reference That Went Over My Head. Probably the latter. I suggest committee because I imagine most here can't (or just won't) read all of these then vote between the day I posted them and the day the AftershoxXxxX card goes up... Decision by committee would just make the whole process easier. That said, I'm entirely open to suggestion here. Would you guys be willing to read all/most of these and send in votes (gotta be secret~!) to me, by Sunday evening? Or do you have other ideas for how to decide?

... might wanna read that again, Mole.

Honestly, at this point, I'm surprised I can remember my own name, let alone fed history.

An idea - what if we decided in Chat, like the Top 25 Stupidest Moments? Do it by committee and stuff. Who would be up for that?

Preliminary List: Snake Eyes 2002 Apocalypse 2002 Crossfire 2002 Defiance 2002 Thirteenth Hour 2006 Thirteenth Hour 2005 Thirteenth Hour 2004 Thirteenth Hour 2003 From the Fire 2006 From the Fire 2005 From the Fire 2004 From the Fire 2003 Clusterfuck 2006 Clusterfuck 2005 Clusterfuck 2004 Clusterfuck 2003 Ground Zero 2005 - London Ground Zero 2005 - Vegas Ground Zero 2004 Ground Zero 2003 Ground Zero 2002 Battleground 2006 Battleground 2005 Battleground 2004 Battleground 2003 Battleground 2002 Genesis 6 Genesis 5 Genesis 4 Genesis 3 SWF Ramadomination SWF Fight Before Christmas SWF Slay Ride SWF Holds Down Christmas Ashes 2 Ashes 2005 Ashes 2 Ashes 2004 Ashes 2 Ashes 2003 Ashes 2 Ashes 2002

You're not really meant to remember where they were, just which shows were the best. So the shows leading up to Genesis VII will come from the locations of the SWF's best shows ever.

Apparently there isn't much history between Spike and Akira. Whoops.

Apparently some people here don't want to read the promo, so here's the short version of where we are: So it's a timeline on which the SWF technically never existed, because the IGNWF never imploded - they've survived and kept going for the past 4 years.

It's somewhat short notice, but we ARE heading up to Genesis, and that seems like the best time to have a "Best locations" tour, so I'm getting this up now. I'll get a list of all SWF PPV's up tomorrow - tired and lazy tonight. Just wanted to get this up, and let you talk amongst yourselves. Also, SWF PPV's only. I'm ruling out IGN and SJL PPV's, mainly because there'd be way too many nominees otherwise.

"We're here!" the bus driver shouts. The time-honored tradition of everyone rushing off the bus as fast as they can to claim "the good" locker rooms has, thanks to the Fictional World Tour, become a new tradition of everyone groaning and muttering while wondering "Where the hell are we this time?" "We're not in Middle Earth, are we?" asks Bruce Blank. Heads swivel. "You can -- " "Saw the movies," Blank says. "God, I hope we're not in the Looney Tunes universe," groans Landon Maddix. "All them midgets gettin' killed." Despite Blank's drifting away into bliss, these are clearly not happy campers. Especially not Joseph Peters. He should be thrilled, since this is the last show scheduled for the Fictional World Tour. Unfortunately, he has no plan per se for getting back to the real world. The SWF wrestlers and crew all shuffle off the bus and look into the distance, to see what godawful place they'll be competing in next. ... wait... ... can this be right? Could it be? "Is that... what I think it is?" The Quicken Loans arena. The Q. "The Q... It's... It's the Q!" Peters shouts, actually jumping up and down with excitement. "It's The Q! An honest to God Sports Arena! The Fictional World Tour - it's... IT'S OVER!" The entire crowd erupts into cheers, then charges the arena (luggage? who needs it?), with Peters in the lead! Just as they reach the doors, they fly open, and a very sorry looking man steps out. "Mr. Peters! Mr. Peters, I'm very sorry about all this, this double booking. I don't know how it --" "Never mind that!" Joe says, with an uncharacteristically genuine smile. "I'm just so glad to be back in the real world... you have no idea." "What?" "What?" asks the intern. "Um..." "Never mind! Let all of us get settled in, then we can sort this whole thing out!" -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- A Little While Later -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- *knock knock* "Come in!" The door to Joseph Peters' office swings open, and The Superior One Tom Flesher pokes his head in the door. Flesher's beard is shorn, and he seems to have taken the return to the real world as cause for celebration, as he actually appears to be wearing a tie. "Oh, I'm sorry," he says, starting to close the door again. "I thought they said this was the Comissioner's office." "Oh, very funny," Peters says, rolling his eyes. "Seriously, what do you want?" "Well, I was looking for the Commissioner." Peters glowers. "We were supposed to go hand out Truth pamphlets at the front gates... but I guess he's not here." "Uh huh, whatever. Listen Tom, I-" ... The color begins to drain from Joe's face. "Did... did you just say you're going to hand out Truth pamphlets?" "Yeah. People aren't gonna quit smoking by themselves, after all!" Flesher reaches into his front topic and pulls out a tin of mints. ... "Altoid?" Peters looks warily at Flesher. "Tom... how much did you have to drink on the bus?" Tom raises an eyebrow. "I don't drink, sir. Not anymore. You can call Nathaniel K. and ask if you want. He's my sponsor." A brief moment of silence, before Peters literally falls out of his chair howling with laughter! It's a good thirty seconds before he can pick himself up again, and all the while Tom stands in his doorway, looking terribly unamused. "Oh, that's a good one, Tom. That was classic." "I don't know who you are. You could be the guy who played Snow Demon for all I know. But seriously, if you see the Commish, could you tell him where I am?" *SLAM* -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- A Little While Later -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- *knock knock* "Come in!" The door to Peters' office swings open, and Tom Flesher strolls in, a cigarette in one hand and a Guinness in the other. He flops down in a chair and kicks his feet up on Peters' desk. His five-o'clock shadow is once again evident. "So," Joseph says, "how'd the leafletting go?" "The what?" "The Truth Pamphlets." "... what the hell are you talking about, Peters?" "I thought you..." *knock knock knock* "Come in!" The door opens, and the man who first greeted Peters at the door steps in. "I'm really very sorry to bother you, sir, but we have to work out this scheduling conflict." "Yes, of course. Tom, do you mind?" Tom, in the middle of drinking, shakes his head and remains firmly seated. He waves the cigarette at the intern, who grimaces. Flesher obligingly stubs the Camel out. "So, who are we sharing The Q with?" "Well, it's actually The Gund, sir," the man says, clearly annoyed. "Yes, of course it is," Joe replies with a good natured grin. "Seriously though, what's the problem?" "Well, it seems July 30th is actually the night that the biggest wrestling federation in North America is scheduled to have their next Pay Per View, and they booked this arena months ago." "Yeah... and?" "Well, we promised them the arena a long time ago, so I'm afraid your show is going to have to be postponed." Peters looks at Flesher. "... Ok, very funny, Tom. How much did you pay him?" Flesher, again in mid-drink, shakes his head and shrugs. "Seriously, nice gag, but if you don't mind, I really do need to get some work done." "This isn't a joke, sir. The IGNWF's July Pay Per View is to be hosted here on July 30th, and- "WHAT?!" "The IGNWF. The IGN Wrestling Federation. Surely you've heard of them. Their July Pay Per View, Ground Zero, is scheduled to be here on the 30th. Now if you want, we can push your little indy show up to the night before, or the night of, but-" "... ok, seriously, this isn't funny anymore. Get out of my office." "But si-" "OUT!" The man scurries away, but before the door shuts behind him, another hands pokes catches it and pushes it in. "Excuse me, I'm looking for Tom Flesher," the man says, as his head pokes through the door. Peters looks up- "AGH!" - and turns white. Tom, again mid-drink, turns to see who it is. "Ah, Tom," the man says, stepping inside- he stops... "Tom, are you DRINKING?!" Tom finishes his sip. "Wrong Tom," he says. "You want the one out there." He checks his pocket. "By the way, you got a light?" The visitor shakes his head, then says, "Oh, thanks. I got here late, and we need to get ready for our Yoga class. You guys want to join us?" Tom shakes his head. Joseph is frozen solid. "Ah well. Thanks again." "No prob, Stubby." Tom tips his glass to the man, then kicks the door shut behind him. Peters, meanwhile, has been reduced to a quivering mass. "... Stubby?" "Mmmhmm." "Former SWF Commissioner Stubby Potts McWeed?" "Yep." ... "Oh God," Peters says, the sad truth beginning to sink in... "...it's not over, is it?" "Nope." "We're still on the Fictional World Tour, aren't we?" "Yep." "And now we're stuck in Bizarro World, where everyone has an evil twin-" Now it's Tom's turn to howl with laughter (while still balancing his drink perfectly), and Peters can do nothing but wait and look terribly confused. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my life, Joe," Flesher says, finally killing his Guinness. "Evil twins... ha!" Clinging to a false hope, Peters begins to ask... "You mean... it's not the Fict-" "We just crash landed into a parallel timeline, that's all. An alternate universe, created at the exact moment at which the IGNWF collapsed. We live in the universe in which the IGNWF went under and reformed as the SWF, but in this timeline, the IGNWF never folded, and has been alive and kicking all these years. And now both federations have Ground Zero booked here." "I... I'm so confused..." Tom shrugs. The door suddenly swings open, and none other than Michael Stephens himself walks in, an unfiltered Lucky Strike hanging from his lip. "Look, Stubby, I-..." Tom shrugs. Peters begins to cry. "What's wrong with him?" Stephens asks, motioning towards Joe. "No clue," replies Flesher, pulling another Guinness out of his bag. "Drink?" "Don't mind if I do." -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents... SWF GROUND ZERO! Live, Sunday, July 30th, ALONG WITH IGNWF GROUND ZERO, IN THE GUND ARENA IN AN ALTERNATE TIMELINE! (6pm PST, 10pm EST; check local listings) (Send all promos/marked matches to chirs3) PAY PER VIEW THEME SONG: WAR PIGS! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- THE MAIN EVENT - SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH Michael Stephens © vs. JJ Johnson --> Long ago, these two men were in a stable together. A month ago, JJ had some very strong words for the World Champion. Fighting champion that he is, Stephens took offense, and while he didn't want to give JJ a shot, Joe Peters did. One elbow later, and there's baaaad blood between these two. JJ Johnson fights to prove Michael Stephens, and the world, wrong, but has he got what it takes? Rules: Standard singles match. Send to: Ace309 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH - LADDER MATCH Michael Cross © vs. Zyon --> Zyon doesn't like Cross, because some would say Cross screwed him out of his Cruiserweight Title at 13th Hour by taking Akira's place after some serious ass-kicking. Cross doesn't like Zyon because Zyon's bitching is technically unfounded, and also, because Cross doesn't like anybody. Will Zyon get revenge on Cross? Will Cross cheer up, emo kid? Whose cuisine will reign supreme? CROSS. ZYON. BIG BATTEL AT GROUND ZERO. Rules: Standard ladder match. Belt hanging approximately 20 feet above the ring. First to unhook it wins. Send to: chirs3 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SINGLES MATCH "The Superior One" Tom Flesher © vs. Grendel -> These two have been clashing for weeks on end, and it always seems like Tom Flesher gets the drop on the masked one! MatFlesh took him down in a Handicap match, then stole his mask and degraded him in front of millions! Grendel has almost reached the breaking point - is this all part of Tom's brilliant strategy to end him once and for all, or has the Superior One created a monster that even he cannot defeat? Rules: Standard singles match. Send to: Evolution -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SWF INTERNATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH Bruce Blank © vs. Charlie "Grappler" Matthews -> Bruce Blank beat some ridiculously tough competition in the International Championship Open Invitational, and now that he's captured the title, he's going to have to beat some ridiculously tough competition to keep it! First up - Charlie "Grappler" Matthews, a former ICTV Champion himself! Rules: Standard singles match. Send to: chirs3 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SINGLES MATCH Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix vs. "The Dean of Professional Wrestling" Jay Hawke -> BECAUSE, that's why! It's a Pay Per View! Pay Per View's get big matches! THIS IS A BIG FREAKING MATCH! Rules: Standard singles match. Send to: Ace309 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- #1 CONTENDERSHIP TO THE SWF INTERNATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP "The Divine Wind" Akira Kaibatsu vs. "Hollywood" Spoon Jenkins -> One problem with the International Championship Tournament - who gets to fight for the title now that it's been claimed? We'll be working those details out RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW~! These two have a little bit of - OK, a hell of a lot of history, if memory serves. Tonight they fight for the right (to party!) to be the second man to challenge for the International Championship! Rules: Singles Match. Send to: Evolution -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- HANDICAP MATCH Wildchild vs. Kerry Staunton and Scott Rageheart -> Wildchild's just itching for a shot at Mike Van Siclen, but his overzealousness may be his undoing! Mike agreed to a match only IF Wildchild can beat the team of Kerry Staunton and Scott Rageheart, and he has to beat them clean! Wildchild is certainly a force to be reckoned with, but is it possible that he's bitten off more than he can chew with this one? Rules: Standard handicap match, tags required. Send to: chirs3 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SWF HARDCORE CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH - HOUSE RULES STAIRWAY TO PANDA MATCH Jimmy the Doom © vs. Trent Hawk vs. Mike Van Siclen vs. Insane Luchador -> Considering we're double booked with the IGNWF, we figured we should try to give a classic IGN match a new SWF-spin! So tonight, one of the most infamous matches in IGNWF History, THE STAIRWAY TO PANDA, will be fought in the SWF! Let's show those losers how it's done! Rules: There is a stuffed panda hanging above the ring, wrapped in barbed wire. Should you reach this panda, it is free to use how you see fit. There will be ladders all around the ring to use however you see fit. First pinfall wins. Send to: Muzz -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- HARDCORE MATCH Nemesis vs. Manson -> So, Nemesis pretty handily destroyed his first opponent here in the SWF. Now let's see if he can handily destroy THE POWER OF MANSONOSITY~! Rules: RULES?! NO RULES! Send to: hhh6294 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- OPENING BOUT "The Beast" Gabriel Drake vs. Ced Ordonez -> There's been much ado about something, recently, as "The Beast"'s entry into the SWF has been highly publicized. It would seem, though, that some people here aren't exactly thrilled with his arrival. One of those people is Michael Stephens. I imagine, after this message, another one of those people will be Ced Ordonez. Rules: Standard singles match. Send to: chirs3 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- NOTES: We are preparing an actual IGN card, so you can see what kinds of WACKY HIJINX the IGNWF'ers have been up to since they didn't implode, but that card will be waiting a day, as it's yet to be finalized. Also trying to get some old IGNWF'ers to write those matches, but we'll see. Feel free to use and abuse IGNWF characters any way you see fit. After all, this is an alternate universe.

I did? ... oops.

Three missing promos editedededededededed in.

Promos and hopefully a match to still be edited in. Big developments in the Two Skinny White Guys saga! Our nooblet shows for his first match, and it's a very good showing indeed! Oh happy days are here again! Working on the PPV card as we speak.

The last commercial break is out of the way, even if this match goes 45 minutes the fans will get to see every single second of it because it’s time for the main event!! “Ladies and Gentlemen the following match is a four way elimination match with NO time limit and it is for the SWF International Title” Funyon says as he looks as dapper as ever in his khaki shirt & shorts and with his pith helmet at a jaunty angle. “Introducing first from Sendai, Japan “The DIVINEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE WIND” AKIRA KAIBATSU!!!!!! A-KI-RA!! A-KI-RA!! A-KI-RA!! Akira hasn’t even entered the makeshift arena and the crowd is already cheering for the returning Japanese superstar. The crowd rises to their feet as the metal gates open and one of the park Ranger trucks drives down the dirt road to the ringside area. The back of the pick up truck has been modified so that it looks like a miniature ring complete with turnbuckles and ropes. “Protect Ya Neck” plays from the truck’s loudspeaker system as Akira stands on the back, one hand on the ropes while looking around at the fans and the dinosaurs in the distance. “AAAAAAAAAAND introducing participant number two” Funyon starts up as the first truck parks at ringside to let Akira enter the ring “From Hollywood, California here is “HOLLYWOOD” SPIKEEEEEEEEEEE JENKINS!!!” The gate opens again, with another truck entering the enclosure, this time with “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins standing inside the mini ring with his hands raised in the “Straight Edge” X pose as the truck heads to the ring. “Like Bringing A Knife To A Gun Fight… LIKE BRINGING A KNIFE TO A GUN FIGHT!” BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! “You know I’ve often wondered about this, is Spike the guy bringing the knife or is he the one bringing the gun” Mak muses. “As long as he leaves with the International title I’m sure he doesn’t care what he brings to the fight” King says as he tries his best to just filter out his co-commentator’s inane babbling while watching Spike enter the ring. “Introducing participant number threeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!! Accompanied to the ring by his brother Wayne, this is the “Redneck Superman” BRUCEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE BLANK!!!!” Funyon announces as the gates open once more to allow another truck into the arena. The car drives down the dirt road towards the ring with Bruce standing tall, holding his balance by grabbing the ropes while Wayne staggers back and forth behind him trying his best to stay on his feet. “Finally introducing the fourth and final contestant, the SWF World Cruiserweight champion “IRON” MICHAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEL CROSS!!” Funyon says before the boos drown him out. The last truck appears but unlike everyone else Cross isn’t standing in the back of the Pick-up but has opted to sit on the top of the cab instead with his feet planted on the hood partially obstructing the driver’s view. The champion sits there, looking down, hood up to cover his facial expression as he’s taken towards the ring, taken towards his golden opportunity. “Can you feel it King? It’s in the air!!” Mak says excitedly as the last of the trucks pulls up to ringside to let the Cruiserweight champion enter the ring. “You mean the smell of Dinosaur dung?” King replies. “Damn it King no!” Mak gets a bit annoyed “it’s opportunity! It’s the chance for one of these guys to rise to the top, to grasp the golden ring and win it all” “Holy Hokey Cliché Machine Batman! Yeah it’s a big night, none of these guys have ever held of this level before but man cut back on the corny will ya?” Once the car comes to a full stop Cross stands up and steps off the hood and onto the ring apron. There he unzips his hoodie shirt and points to his belt while making the “2” sign with his other hand reminding the other three and everyone at home that he will be walking out of here with two belts tonight. After removing his hoodie and handing the belt to a ringside attendant Cross walks down the apron. . . and down the steps to the floor. “What?” Wayne yells something to Bruce but the big man is too slow to react and moments later he finds himself alone in the ring as the bell rings. *DING!*DING!*DING!!* When Bruce turns around and notices that Spike and Akira have quickly left the ring as well he both surprised and pissed off complaining loudly to referee Nick Soapdish. Both Cross and Spike seem to be enjoying the show as Bruce gets more and more flustered over what the referee tells him. “You’re the legal man Bruce!” Soapdish explains “That means you can only leave this ring if you tag out or if you’re eliminated” It’s obvious that Bruce had hoped to just stay on the outside of the ring for as long as possible from the way he’s complaining and annoyed by the antics of the other three participants. His mood doesn’t exactly lighten up as Akira Kaibatsu decides to return to the ring leaving both Cross and Spike out of it for now. And that suits them just fine. “He got outsmarted, Bruce’s well laid plan just got blown apart” Mak says without hiding his Schadenfreude. “How do you know that was his plan? Maybe he plans on eliminating all 3 of them?” King says trying his best to make Bruce look good, as impossible as that is. “Yeah I don’t think so King, I’m sure Bruce would have loved to just wait around out of the ring until one or even two of the others have been eliminated” Akira and Bruce are definitely no strangers to each other, having faced off many times in the past although never for as rich a prize as tonight. For now neither of them seem to be thinking of the gold, instead they are thinking about kicking each other’s asses. Akira takes the first shot as he goes straight for Bruce instead of the usual duck and escape tactics that most Cruiserweights take with Bruce and the surprise element is enough to rattle Bruce. Demonstrating that he’s not lost a step because of the injury Akira comes bouncing off the ropes and strikes Bruce in the chest with a spin kick that has enough force behind it to actually take the big man off his feet early in the contest. A-KI-RA!! A-KI-RA!! A-KI-RA!! “This is such a contrast to last week against Zyon, he’s managed to take the big man down early which is the best way to beat him” Says the King “Bruce got thrown off his game plan, he’s not the kind of guy to quickly formulate a new one, it takes time and Akira is using this time to his advantage” Mak points out. After having faced Bruce so many times the Divine Wind knows that the best tactic is to stay away from Bruce’s hands and arms so that he can’t trap up and then just stick and move, stick and move. A springboard drop kick for instance is a great way to stick and move on Bruce as he demonstrates as he pulls one out of his bag KENTA~! Style YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!! The kick knocks Bruce ass over elbow so that he ends up face down on the canvas in the middle of the ring. Akira turns around and almost tags Michael Cross in on instinct but when he realizes who is in the corner he puts on the brakes and then says something in Japanese to his former tag-team partner, something that seems to piss Cross off no end. When the Divine Wind turns around he notices that Bruce has gotten back to his feet and is heading towards Spike with his hand held out looking for a tag, only Spike doesn’t look like he’s in a big hurry to tag in as he casually strolls down the apron a bit out of Bruce’s reach. “HA! Excellent strategy Spike” it comes from King as he gives Spike his seal of approval. At least Akira is more eager to fight Bruce than Spike as he rushes the big man, leaps up and nails him in the back of the head with a high knee that sends Bruce face first into the turnbuckles. With Bruce down and hurting Spike eagerly tags himself in and begins to climb the ropes. “So when Bruce is in trouble Spike has no problems tagging in?” “That’s a thinking man’s wrestler right there Mak, why use your brawn when you can use your brain?” Spike leaps off the top rope, pulling both legs up under him as he descends on the still bent over Bruce, not extending his legs until they can make contact with the big man’s back in a spectacularly painful way. *BLAM!!* The double stomp drives Bruce into the canvas with Spike Jenkins landing right on top of him. Hollywood grabs Bruce by the shirt and the pulls with all the power he’s got trying to turn Bruce over onto his back but having a hard time with the dead weight. Being an impatient man Spike decides to forgo the pinfall attempt and instead runs at the ropes to build up enough steam for a running boot scrape. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Spike can’t help but smirk at the crowd reaction and can’t resist pissing them off even more by giving them the middle finger before tagging in Cross. Spike holds onto Bruce’s legs so that the King of Pain can’t move out of the way as Michael Cross climbs the ropes. The plan works like a charm as Cross lands a flying leg drop right across Bruce’s throat and then goes for a cover as Spike steps through the ropes once more. ONEE!! TWOOO!!! FOOT ON THE ROPES! Spike curses himself that he left Bruce’s legs too close to the rope allowing him to escape elimination. “Iron” Mike doesn’t look too bothered by the save, it’s early in the match and he has plenty of tricks up his sleeve. And a fist upside his head!! Bruce’s right fist finds the spot but it takes more than one punch to stop Michael Cross which is clearly demonstrated when the Cruiserweight champion retaliates with a stomp right to Bruce’s forehead followed by a second and then a third boot to Bruce’s noggin’ “Come on hit something vital instead!” Mak yells out. “You trying to imply that Bruce is stupid?” “No I’m saying it outright” Wayne looks completely distraught by the beating Bruce is taking but is too afraid to get close his brother as Spike is guarding that side of the ring and probably wouldn’t hesitate to attack him. So Wayne keeps his distance, even when Michael drapes his big brother over the middle rope and puts a knee in Bruce’s back to choke the life out of him. ONE!! Nick Soapdish immediately starts to count TWO!! And Michael Cross immediately starts to ignore that same count THREE!! FOUR!! At four Cross finally listens to the referee and breaks the chokehold on the Redneck Superman, then he casually extends his arm and lets Spike Jenkins tag himself back in the match. Spike leaps over the top rope, runs across the ring and then lands with all of his 220 pounds on the back of Bruce Blank as he’s still draped over the middle rope. “Shades of the Big Boss Man!!” “Yeah if you add 150 pounds Mak” Spike turns to Cross with a sadistic grin offering his partner in crime a high five. A offer that Cross responds to in true “Iron” Mike fashion YAKUZA KICK~!! *POW!!* YOU SUCK!! YOU SUCK!! YOU SUCK!! Spike is taken totally by surprise by the underhanded attack and takes the boot square on the draw dropping like a ton of bricks. Cross just shrugs his shoulders like “hey it’s not like I ever liked you” and then steps out on the apron. “You’d think that Spike of all people knew the philosophy of DTA” King says “I doubt he trusted him King, but he probably figured that they were on the same page for now” “From the looks of it they’re not even in the same book” With everyone focusing on what went down between Spike Jenkins and Michael Cross it’s a bit of a surprise when Bruce reaches over and tags in Akira Kaibatsu, it’s even a surprise to Akira who had his side turned to Bruce staring a hole through his former tag-team partner across the ring from him. YEAAAAAAA-KI-RA!! A-KI-RA!! A-KI-RA!! “Bruce just saved his bacon, he would have been on his way to an elimination if the others had kept the attack up.” “Yeah but the other three aren’t really going to get along well are they Mak? Cross and Akira would rather hurt each other than anyone else, Spike doesn’t get along with ANYONE!” King replies. The two former tag-team partners lock up in a collar and elbow tie up, only for Spike to jam a thumb into Akira’s eye giving the Hollywood superstar the instant advantage. A couple of open handed Shotei thrusts to the face drives Akira back in the corner as Spike pushes his advantage with everything he’s got. Spike Jenkins looks at Michael Cross almost as if to tell him to “watch this you bastard” before he takes a running start at Akira, leaping into the air for a Yakuza kick designed to show the Cruiserweight champion how a real Yakuza kick is performed. *BAM!!* But Akira is no longer in the corner so Spike ends up kicking the turnbuckle instead which does Spike more harm than good. Akira swiftly jumps up on the ropes looking to strike quickly only to find himself thrown off balance as Michael Cross shakes the top rope with everything he’s got. The motion of the ropes is enough to throw Akira so much off balance that he leaps down to the canvas again. With Akira’s attention distracted Spike decides to throw caution to the wind and just go for it with a lariat. The Divine Wind must have been paying more attention than Spike thought as he ducks under the Lariat attempt from Spike, he also ducks under the back elbow attempt that Spikes follows up with. As swiftly as his namesake Akira grabs Spike around the head in a 3/4 headlock and then runs up the turnbuckles before Spike has a chance to catch on to what’s going on *BAM!!* “DIVINE WIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIND!!” Mak yells out as Akira drives the back of Spike’s head into the canvas. Referee Nick Soapdish doesn’t count though, instead he informs Akira that he’s no longer the legal man in the ring, something that both baffles and confuses the man from the Orient. +=+=+=+=+=+ Instant replay +=+=+=+=+=+ Akira runs up the turnbuckles as he begins to execute the Divine Wind, he is so into what he’s doing that he doesn’t even notice that Bruce slaps him on the boot right before he flips over Spike’s head and drops him to the canvas. +=+=+=+=+=+ End Instant replay +=+=+=+=+=+ “HA! HA! Akira is not the legal man in the ring, he doesn’t want to cheat now does he?” King says as Akira starts to argue in Japanese with both the referee and Bruce who’s dismissing Akira. “This is just descending into chaos!” Mak complains as Michael Cross decides to join in as well, stepping through the ropes behind Soapdish’s back. The crowd boos madly as Michael Cross picks up Spike and then locks on a standing Dragon Sleeper to his helpless opponent. Nick Soapdish is too busy with trying to keep Akira and Blank separated and fails to notice Cross lifting Jenkins up in the air before twisting him into a cutter move *BLAM!!* “SILENT RAAAAAAAAAAGE SYNDROMEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!” King yells out mocking Mak’s earlier excitement over Akira’s finisher. “I hate you” The impact doesn’t go unnoticed by Soapdish who turns around and starts to yell at Cross about the number of rules he’s breaking right now. The Cruiserweight champion seems totally unaffected by it though and just smirks as he heads back to his corner. The smirk is wiped off his face 2 seconds later as Kaibatsu breaks away from the argument with Bruce, races across the ring and then knocks both himself and Michael Cross over the top rope and to the floor with a super stiff clothesline. YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!! Bruce mutters something along the lines of “about time” before he grabs the unconscious Spike by the hair. After having suffered both the Divine Wind and the Silent Rage Syndrome Spike isn’t even able to stand on his feet on his own. Half the crowd is distracted with Akira and Cross fighting on the floor but Bruce soon draws their attention back to him as he picks up Spike Jenkins and places him over his shoulder. “Oh no” Mak utters as Bruce gets ready for the running Tombstone “Maybe that’ll teach him to not steal someone’s finisher” King says curtly as Bruce runs across the ring, leaps forward and then drives the top of Spike’s skull into the canvas *CRACK!!* The cover at this point is merely a formality but Bruce covers his opponent none the less making sure that he puts an elbow in Spike’s face in the process ONEE!! TWOOO!!! THREEEEE!!!! “Ladies and Gentlemen Spike Jenkins has been eliminated!” Funyon announces signalling the end of Hollywood’s golden dreams. Neither Cross nor Kaibatsu seem to have noticed that they’re now a man short as the two of them are embroiled in a war on the floor, exchanging right hands while rolling around on the floor engaged in a brawl that’s more at home in a bar late at night than in a wrestling match. Bruce doesn’t seem to care that the two of them are tearing each other apart outside the ring, he just leans back against the ropes and grins while discussing some sort of strategy with his brother. “We’re down to three and with each moment that passes Bruce becomes the odds on favourite to take it” King says with confidence. “No he doesn’t!! The longer it goes the less likely it is that he’ll have the stamina to last” Mak counters noting Bruce’s mediocre cardio-vascular conditioning. “If these two guys keep beating the snot out of each other he will be! Every moment they fight on the floor is a moment where Bruce can just sit back and watch them beat each other up” King explains since Mak doesn’t seem to get it. Nick Soapdish isn’t sure what to do here, technically either Cross or Kaibatsu should get in the ring and fight Bruce but since he doesn’t know which of them is the legal man he’s not really ready to count them out. Akira back elbows Cross right in the nose and then gets up on the apron, either to enter the ring or to leap at Michael Cross We’ll never know which it was though as Cross still has enough wits about him to close the gap between them and swiftly elbows Akira right in the riceballs. “SON OF A BI. . . “Mak yells out catching himself mid “itch” Akira almost falls off the apron but manages to hold on to the ropes and stays up there. With Akira subdued for the moment Michael Cross slides under the bottom rope into the ring heading straight for Bruce. “Ah well, break time is over” King says with a shrug “It couldn’t last forever I guess” Blank and Cross circle each other like a couple of feral cats about to attack each other. Cross looks ready to fight while Bruce just grins, then reaches backwards and tags the still hurting Akira much to the surprise of both Akira and Michael Cross. Bruce pushes down the top rope and steps over it, leaving the ring while casually whistling and looking quite pleased with himself. Akira on the other hand is still dazed from the nut shot and hasn’t entered the ring yet, a condition that Michael Cross soon rectifies by reaching over the top rope and hooking his opponent’s head with a headlock. “What in the world?” Mak asks as Cross begins to pull Akira into the ring, forcing the Divine Wind over the top rope while still locked in the headlock. “Your guess is as good as mine Mak” King admits. Cross keeps the headlock firmly clamped on as he pulls forward on Akira managing to drag him up over the top rope and into the ring with only his feet holding him up. Soapdish starts a count as Akira’s feet are in the ropes and Cross is technically breaking the hold. Soapdish doesn’t even get to two though before Cross raises both hands in the air to give Akira a clean break *BONK!* And to drop him face first to the canvas from the height of the top rope where he’d held him until now. “Genius!” To add even more injury to injury Cross follows up by dropping an elbow straight to the back of Akira only moments after Akira hit the canvas. The boos that Cross received early in the match more than double in intensity as “Iron” Mike drives his knees into the side of Akira’s head, alternating between left and right as he drives the Divine Wind backwards into a sitting position in the corner. Cross ignores the count at first as he keeps working over Akira’s neck but does break at 4 and takes a few steps back to keep himself from being disqualified. “I thought for a moment he was going to let his anger get the best of him” King says noting that Cross’ intensity is ten fold when he’s in there with Akira instead of either Spike or Bruce. “Oh come on he’s already got plenty of advantages in the ring” Mak complains as Bruce rushes over and grabs Akira by the back of the tights to hold him in place as Cross gets ready to attack his opponent in the corner. “Man you are such a goody two-shoes, I remember there was a time where you’d be breaking rules with the best of them” Cross gets a head of steam and leaps into the corner for a splash. Akira manages to slip out of Bruce’s hold and drop down to the canvas while Michael flies over him, strikes the top turnbuckle with his mid section and knocks Bruce off the apron in the process INTO THE GUARDRAIL!! *CRASH!!* After hitting the turnbuckles Cross drops to his knees holding his gut trying to regain his breath. Behind Cross’ back Akira is dragging himself back to his feet while holding his neck, his now unmasked face a picture of agony and anger. A-KI-RA!! A-KI-RA!! A-KI-RA!! “This kid is amazing King, he’s clearly in pain but he’s not about to let that stop him from getting his hands on Michael Cross, the man that injured him at 13th Hour” Mak says. “Well his hips don’t lie” “No that’s SHAkira King” Mak points out once he realizes what the hell King is on about. Akira’s first offensive move is a knee driven into Michaels’ back, striking the Cruiserweight champion right between the shoulder blades, then Cross is pulled back up by his hair only to be taken off his feet once more by one of the stiffest European uppercuts ever seen from Akira Kaibatsu. From there on the match loses any semblance of a Cruiserweight contest or even a regular wrestling match and turns into a streetfight as Akira leaps onto his opponent without caring that he’s probably hurting his neck in the process as long as he can inflict pain on Michael Cross “It’s hard to believe that these two – WHOA!” King’s train of thought is derailed as Akira lands a sickly stiff punch to Cross’ face, busting his nose. “A lot of bad blood between these two guys, I mean they were like brothers at one point” Mak says as Michael Cross tries to push Akira off by jamming a finger in his eye. “They still look like brothers to me” King adds giving us a disturbing insight into the King’s family life. While Akira and Cross are intent on tearing each other apart Bruce is still on the floor, out cold from hitting the guardrail but no one really seems to pay much attention to that right now. When the two Ex Asian Underground’ers roll into the ropes Soapdish tries to separate them without much success. It’s not until he physically grabs Akira by the legs and drags him off Cross that he gets some sort of order restored in the match For about 3 seconds 3 seconds is exactly the time it takes a bloodied Michael Cross to leap from where he’s crouched towards Akira, elbowing the Divine Wind square in the testicles. An enraged Michael Cross gets back to his feet and then looks around with his hand raised looking to let Bruce do some of the dirty work. “Where is Bruce?” Mak asks not realizing that he’s actually on the floor more or less right in front of them. “Erm Mak, he’s still on the floor – he hasn’t moved since he hit the guardrail” King says. “Soapdish can’t even count him out, he’s not the legal man!” When he realizes that there is no one to tag Cross quickly turns his attention back towards Akira only to eat a boot for his troubles as Akira lays out Michael Cross with a superkick before the Divine Wind drops to his knees once more, clutching his neck in agony. “Hey what the hell?!” Mak says as he notices movement in front of the announcers’ table. Bruce has raised his head and is trying to keep an eye on what’s going on in the ring, then when he hears Mak yell out he quickly lies back down and goes back to pretending to still be out cold. “THAT SON OF A BITCH!” Mak sputters as he realizes that Bruce is playing possum “He just wants these two guys to kill each other and then he can come in and take care of whomever is left.” “You say that like it’s a bad strategy Mak, it’s a GREAT strategy – besides Akira and Cross need to fight this out to get “closure” and all” King says while making quotation marks gestures. “He’s got Cross on the ropes, literally!” Mak quips as Cross uses the ropes to drag himself back to his feet after the super kick. “Déjà vu!” King yells out as Akira runs at Michael Cross looking to clothesline both of them over the top rope once again. Cross is ready for it though, having felt it once he’s prepared for it this time and deftly ducks under the clothesline by falling to the canvas and letting Akira flip over the top rope by himself. The surprise of Cross dropping out of his path causes Akira to hit the ropes at an awkward angle and traps the Divine Wind’s head between the top and the middle rope as he goes over the top and ends up stuck in the ropes. “HOOOOOOOOLY SHIT!” Mak yells out, not knowing how else to describe the dire situation that Akira is in right now. Michael Cross quickly gets to his feet and then starts to argue with the referee, yelling at him and generally trying to do his best to distract him the fact that Akira is stuck in the ropes. He also distract the referee from the fact that Bruce has given up on his “I’m unconscious” charade, gotten up on the apron and is now ADDING to the pressure on Akira’s neck by pushing down on the ropes to make them even tighter. After a moment or two of listening to Cross complain Nick Soapdish catches a glimpse of what Bruce is doing and turns around to admonish him, but he doesn’t have to as Bruce voluntarily releases his hold on the ropes and jumps back to the floor. “See now THAT is a fair man” King says with a grin “Fair? FAIR??” Is all Mak can say in his righteous indignation. “I’m glad we agree” Nick Soapdish rushes over and manages to help Akira slide his head back out of the vice created by the two ring ropes. The Divine Wind sinks down to his knees, leaning on the middle rope as he holds his neck in agony. Suddenly Wayne Blank gets up on the apron and actually takes a swing at Michael Cross, a swing that “Iron” Mike easily ducks and then tries to retaliate. “What the HELL is Wayne’s problem?” Soapdish rushes over to try and separate Cross and the younger Blank brother, even threatening to throw Wayne out of the arena. With the others pre-occupied Bruce has free reign on the floor, a reign he takes full advantage off by pushing the time keeper out of his chair so that Bruce can use it as a weapon. He folds it up and then swings it overhead and brings it down *CRACK!* Right across Akira’s neck and back. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Both Wayne and Cross have seen the chairshot while Soapdish turns around just a split second too late to see it. Wayne immediately leaps off the apron and backs away from the ring while grinning from ear to ear like a racoon that just found a tasty garbage can. Michael doesn’t waste any time at all before locking on a front headlock, then he twists it around so that Akira’s head is draped over his shoulder in a neckbreaker position. “This is bad! This is really, really bad” Mak frets “Akira has barely returned from his neck injury at the hands of Michael Cross and now. . . and now” but Mak can’t go on. “And now he’s up shit creek” King finishes having no qualms about the situation. Michael Cross holds on to Akira’s head and then drops to his knees *THUD!* The Cruiserweight champion maintains his hold on Akira’s head causing the Divine Wind to bend over backwards straddling Cross’ shoulder with his neck in a very painful looking position. Cross adds to the pain by pulling down hard on Akira’s chin. After holding his former partner in that position for 15 seconds or so Cross gets back to his feet, fingers still locked around Akira’s jaw and then he bends forward, pulling on Akira LIFTING THE DIVINE WIND OFF THE GROUND BY THE HEAD!! “Yes!! Now that’s smart wrestling by Cross, he knows Akira is hurting, he knows his neck was weak coming into the match and he knows that Bruce just made it worse with a steel chair” Says King as the crowd mercilessly boos the Cruiserweight champion “Oh and look at that bastard!” Mak spits out as Bruce begins to applaud Cross’ actions in the ring. The referee raises Akira’s hand in the air and then releases it, not surprisingly it drops down as Akira appears to be unconscious. Soapdish checks on Akira’s eyes and then quickly calls for the bell without even lifting the arm again. * DING!*DING!*DING!*DING!* When he hears the bell Cross lets go of Akira, allowing the Japanese superstar to drop to the canvas where he flops over and lays there unconscious. “Ladies and gentlemen referee Nick Soapdish has used his discretion and is declaring that Akira Kaibatsu is in no physical condition to continue” Funyon explains to the crowd, an explanation that doesn’t go over very well. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Correction it doesn’t go over very well with the crowd but both Cross and Blank seem to be very pleased with the decision, after all it means that there is just one man standing between either of them and the International title. Bruce barely has time to step through the ropes before Iron Mike is on the attack once more, leaping at the big man to take him down and take him down fast. But the best laid plans sometimes backfires, and frankly jumping on Bruce is hardly one of the best laid plans ever devised. Bruce manages to stay upright as he catches Michael Cross in mid air, then the big man drops backwards driving Cross chest and face first into the turnbuckles. “Staggering!” King quips as Michael Cross staggers out from the corner after being thrown into the turnbuckles. “He must really be desperate King, I can count the number of times Bruce has climbed the ropes on one hand” Mak says as Bruce climbs up on the second rope while keeping an eye on Cross. “Yeah and still have fingers left!” Bruce folds his hands over his head and then leaps off the second rope in a very poor imitation of Randy Savage’s double axe handle. . . especially since this one totally misses and Bruce twists his leg on the landing. *BA-SNAP!* The big man immediately collapses on the canvas, clutching his right leg as he screams out in agony from landing on it wrong. Cross holds back a bit, weary of the situation and everything as Nick Soapdish tries to find out exactly how bad Bruce is hurt. Wayne slides his upper body under the bottom rope as he worriedly tries to get his brother to calm down so they can figure out how bad it is. “That’s why he never goes to the top rope, he’s just not built for it and it backfired” Mak says in a solemn sounding voice. “A desperation move that may have cost him the match and the title” Cross looks angry and impatient that the match has been interrupted when he’s so close to winning the International title, so he decides to take matters into his own hands by kicking Wayne out of the ring with a well placed boot to the head before reaching down to grab Bruce by the shirt to drag him into a better position. A flash of hands and legs and Michael Cross is tied up in a small package with Bruce on top of him using all of his arm and leg strength to keep Cross under control. ONEE!!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! TWOOOO!!!! Cross’ legs flail like a madman’s as he tries to break free from Bruce’s vice like grip. THREEEEE!!!!! “HOLY FUCKING SHIT BRUCE STOLE IT!!” King yells out as Nick Soapdish’s hand hits the canvas a split second before a surprised Michael Cross can kick out. Cross kicked out just a second too late and the shock is clearly seen on his face as he sits there on the canvas, mouth open, big eyes looking totally stunned that he was suckered in by Bruce. While Cross is in chock Bruce is on cloud nine, celebrating with his brother who has handed Bruce the International title belt before the announcement is even made. “The survivor of this match and the NINTH SWF INTERNATIONAL CHAMPION” Funyon says and then draws a breath to let it sink in with him as well before making it official “BRUCE BLAAAAAAAAAANK!!” “I don’t believe it, Bruce outsmarted someone?” Mak says still in a state of shock “He’s NOT as stupid as he looks Mak” “No he couldn’t really be now could he?” Michael Cross isn’t ready to accept the outcome of the match just yet, he didn’t come all this way, earn his way into the match and eliminate Akira just to fall short to Bruce. Cross leaps to his feet and then runs straight for Bruce who has his back turned to him. Wayne yells out, alerting his brother to what is coming, allowing him enough of a warning to duck under Michael Cross’ attack and then clothesline the Cruiserweight champion over the top rope unceremoniously dumping him to the floor. The last image on Smarkdown is of the ninth SWF International Champion Bruce Blank holding the belt up high in the air.

The Pepsi Max © Tale of the Tape Bruce Blank Age: 32 Height: 6'7" Weight: 295 lbs Years as a Pro: 17 Signature Moves: Gorilla Press, Big Boot Finisher(s): Blank Bomb, Broken Dream Accomplishments: SWF Ultraviolent Champion (213 Days) Last Five: 4 - 1 Akira Kaibatsu Age: 20 Height: 6'0" Weight: 190 lbs Years as a Pro: 2 Signature Moves: It came from Sendai, Senton Bomb Finisher(s): The Divine Wind, Anaconda Vice Accomplishments: SWF Tag-Team Champions (15 Days), SWF Cruiserweight champion (59 days) Last Five: 2 - 3 Michael Cross Age: 22 Height: 6'0" Weight: 228 lbs Years as a Pro: 4 Signature Moves: Avalance Head Trauma, Break the Ice Finisher(s): Iron Cross, Silent Rage Syndrome Accomplishments: Current SWF Cruiserweight champion (43 days), SWF Tag-Team Champions (15 Days) Last Five: 3 – 1 - 1 “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins Age: 24 Height: 6'1" Weight: 220 lbs Years as a Pro: 6 Signature Moves: Lariat, Dangerous Wizard Finisher(s): The Ratings Crash, Endwell Accomplishments: 2 times SWF Tag-Team Champions (19 Days & 21 Days) SWF Hardcore Gamer’s Champion (16 days), 2 times SWF Cruiserweight champion (14 days & 120 days) Last Five: 2 - 3 POWER ADVANTAGE: Bruce Blank LEVERAGE ADVANTAGE: Bruce Blank SPEED ADVANTAGE: Akira Kaibatsu EXPERIENCE ADVANTAGE: Bruce Blank TECHNICAL ADVANTAGE: Spike Jenkins HOT/COLD: Bruce Blank (Hot) OVERALL ADVANTAGE: Bruce Blank

FADE IN Wildchild and Melissa are walking towards SWF Commissioner Joeseph Peters' office. "Do you know what this is about?" asks Melissa. "No," replies WC. "But he probably wants t'scold me for attacking Van Siclen earlier tonight." "Do you think that he'll get Van Siclen to waive his veto?" "I'm hopin'," replies the Bahama Bomber. "I really don' know if he's enough of a man t'face up t'what he did t'me, but if he is..." BANG! Fasaki shrieks as Mike Van Siclen seemingly comes out of nowhere to blast her boyfriend in the back of the head with a steel chair! She tries to cover WC to protect him, but MVS shoves her out of the way, as he waves off into the distance, signalling for someone to come over. "I decided to cut a deal with Peters," MVS growls into Wildchild's ear. "I agreed to give you a match, on one condition..." BANG! Van Siclen pauses to deliver another vicious chairshot to WC's back. The mysterious entities that he was waving to finally arrives on the scene, revealing themselves to be Kerry Staunton and Scott Rageheart! "All you've got to do to get your match," continues Van Siclen, "is beat Staunton and Rageheart at Ground Zero... in a handicap match!" With that, Van Siclen steps aside as Staunton and Rageheart pull WC to his feet and lift him up off the canvas before hitting him with a double-powerbomb! They discard WC to the floor, and Van Siclen moves in to stand over him. "Oh yeah," says MVS, "there's one more catch that I forgot to tell you about: you have to win by pinfall or submission! If you don't, you're going to be suspended for fifty days... good luck, chump!" Melissa scrambles over to try and revive Wildchild as MVS and StauntHeart walk off... As we: FADE OUT

Canadian Murder Machine win with Canadianosity. MANSON comes in and melts them for their arrogance. FADE OUT

"Y'know, this'd better be good," Landon complains as he and Michael Stephens wander the backstage area looking for a monitor (thankfully they don't have John Hammond directing them via two-way radio). "Hey, don't blame me," Stephens replies. "First of all, this wasn't my idea. Secondly, I never asked you to come." "So you're trailing around here simply cos you're ex said so?" Maddix asks, "Jesus man, what's that all about?" "Because I think she's probably got a good reason," Stephens says with a certain lack of patience. "Anyway, if your ex asked you to do something you'd do it, because she's my sister and she'd kick your arse if you didn't. And if she didn't," he adds, "I would." "You know, you're really not getting into the whole 'teamwork' vibe, are you?" Landon protests. "'Lesson One: offering your partner physical violence does not strengthen the team!'" "Bite me, Landon." "I'm your tag team partner, not your sexual partner," Maddix sniffs, "and you just walked past a monitor, genius. Do you want to watch this stupid video or not?" Stephens sighs, but notices that his partner is correct; while arguing he did indeed walk straight past a monitor. He crosses his arms and awaits enlightenment while Landon somehow manages to find a boiled sweet from somewhere, apparently just so he can give that real cinema vibe of people making lots of noise with sugary snacks right behind you... ===================================== [bLACK SCREEN] "In its history, mankind has learned to fear." [The screen changes to shots of war and devastation; the Second World War; the Vietnam War; the Gulf War] "We have learned to fear pain. We have learned to fear suffering. We have learned to fear death. But most of all, we have learned to fear the beast within." [Fast-cut shots that show small details of a man: an extreme closeup of an eye; a snarling mouth; a shot from behind that shows the musculature of his back] "Now things are about to change." [shots of a man in a ring, illuminated somewhere in what appears to be a dark warehouse. The distance of the shots are either too great to make out details or too close to get a a full picture. What is clear, however, is the destruction being visited on an opponent or sparring partner.] "It is no longer our own beast we need to fear." [A grainy image is shown of a man hunched over, standing up to his full height. As he rises, the view shifts to an upward angle making the man somewhat imposing] HEIGHT: 6' 4" [The shot pans out and around, slowly circling the man and this makeshift ring. A shadowy outline quivers around him as the loop continues and then it all stops] WEIGHT: 258 lbs [A primal roar echoes throughout the dilapidated building exploding like a shockwave, seemingly even causing the ropes to shake as the voice settles in to a low growl] LAST KNOWN LOCATION: ATLANTA STATE PENITENTIARY [The camera loop comes to an abrupt end and now only a tight shot centered on a tattoo, a triad of sixes on the back of the man's neck, remains] STATUS: RELEASED [The man deliberately turns, and now for the first time his features can be seen. Two cold, hazel eyes stare into the camera, framed by black hair that's just starting to get long enough to be straggly. An amused sneer crosses his face for a second before one hand reaches out and grips the camera. The picture shakes violently, then blurs as the camera is apparently thrown into the wall. Everything goes black.] GABRIEL DRAKE GROUND ZERO 2006 FEAR THE BEAST ================================= Backstage, Michael Stephens stares at the monitor. The colour has drained from the World Champion's face, noticeable even with his naturally pale skin. For a moment the only sound is a couple of shuddering breaths. Even the small crowd of road agents and backstage crew who came over to see what Stephens and Maddix were looking at have stopped talking; everyone's looking at the Englishman. He looks shocked. And possibly scared. Michael Stephens has looked many things in his SWF career. Angry, defiant, cocky, sneering, exhausted, amused, cheerful, triumphant and in some cases, downright psychopathic. Shocked has been known before, as well. Scared... well, that's kind of a new one. Every eye is on Stephens, waiting to see what he'll do next. "Oh shit." What he does next is turn around and leave. Fast.