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SWF returns from commercial with a shot of the grimy backstage area where ace reporter Ben stands. Really, it doesn’t matter where or how he stands, but what does matter is WHO he stands next to. The camera turns to Hardy’s right reveal the Unique Youth, Zyon! “YEAAAHHHHHH!” The crowd cheer as Hardy speaks into his mic, “As you can see I am here with Zyon who is coming off a tough loss to rookie sensation Trent Hawk.” “Tough?” Zyon interrupts, “Dude the only thing tough about that loss is everyone stating that my so called fifteen minutes of fame are up. It was just a loss to a great wrestler who made the stupid choice to hang with one Michael Cross, which is what I’m here to talk about. I personally don’t care about the Axis. I don’t care about Mr. Kobe even though I hear he is a whore. I just want to hurt one man. I want to save the Cruiserweight Division from one star. That star that burns with the blackest of flames. That star is Iron Michael Cross.” “BOOOOOO!” The crowd jeers in unison as Hardy takes over once again, “But what exactly makes you deserving. You lost the title to Cross and then you’re rematch went up in smoke. And then when CC called on for you to perform…you flat out were bested by a rookie. Hell, you’re no different than Spike really.” Hardy says with a straight face while he watches his life flash before his eyes. Zyon looks at the straight shooting reporter, opting to NOT kill the stooge, “I’m guessing Peters told you to say that. No biggy. I’ll perform when I need to perform. Like tonight when I take on Bruce Blank. I’ll perform. I may win or lose, but I’ll give the people a show. And at Ground Zero when I face Michael Cross in a ladder match, I’ll not only perform, but I’ll set a bar. A bar that nobody in their right mind could leap over. It will be glorious, cause at Ground Zero, I will save the Cruiserweight division from Michael Cross. Now you say what makes me deserving. Well, two Cruiserweight Title reigns and a Hardcore Title reign say I’m due for a chance at Cross. Numerous number one contenderships and a brilliant match with our champion, Michael Stephens says I’m hungry. And for the love of god, does it look like I would introduce my girlfriend to World of Warcraft freaks, please. I’m not Spike!” Zyon chuckles. “While all of that may be true, what makes you think you can beat Cross when he already bested you?” Young Benjamin asks. “Nothing makes me think I can beat Cross. Pride, morals, honor. Those codes tell me that I can’t think I can beat Cross. I HAVE TO BEAT CROSS! He’s a punk, a parasite, and for those gripping to Family Friendly television…he’s a big jerk! Here I’ll break it down for ya. Cross and I will duel for the CW title, and one of us will walk out with it. And let’s face it, I can’t lose to Cross…he’s just a bitch!” Zyon retreats back into his youth language as the camera fades to King and Mak. “Well that just settled that. It seems that Cross and Zyon will battle once again at Ground Zero in a ladder match for the title.” Mak makes it official. “And hopefully Cross will save me from ever having to watch Zyon again.” Fade to whatever is next.

Hawk vs. Luchador to be edited in.

"Fans, I'm here backstage with SWF World Champion Michael Stephens," Ben Hardy says, smiling into the camera. "Mike," he continues, turning to the man standing beside him, "last Smarkdown you had something of a confrontation with your old stablemate and the man you were a second for in his King's Road match at 13th Hour, JJ Johnson. He laid out a challenge for you and the World Title you carry, and when you stated your opinion that Va'aiga should get a shot first Johnson opened hostilities by knocking you down with an elbow smash. Do you have any comments on this situation?" "Well yes I do," Stephens replies levelly, "and I probably should have addressed this before now but I was preoccupied with the fact I've been forced into teaming with Maddix." He grimaces slightly, then takes the microphone from Hardy and looks directly into the camera. "JJ, I respect you as a person and as a wrestler," the World Champion says, "not because you're a particularly nice guy, but rather because you are never less than completely honest about who you are and where you stand. I know that you are one tough tough bastard, and I know that you are going to do everything in your power to take this title away from me at Ground Zero. You're the sort of person a World Champion would be very happy not to have to defend against," he continues, "but for all the fact that you suckerpunched me I can honestly say that if I have to lose this belt, I could do a lot worse than to lose it to you. You've tried to win it before and come up short each time, and I know that rather than preying on your mind that will only strengthen your resolve. You're fast, you're strong, you're harder to kill than MRSA and you know your way around the ring like few others." Michael Stephens pauses, and a small smile appears on his face. "The trouble is, you're now stepping into a zone where all of that means nothing, JJ. I've faced opponents stronger than me, like Bruce Blank for example, and I've beaten them. I've faced opponents faster than me, like Zyon, and I've beaten them too. Tough? They call Landon 'the Cockroach', and I put him down as well. When you get to the World Title it's not about your physical attributes anymore," Stephens says, tapping himself in the chest, "or this skinny white guy wouldn't be standing here holding this belt. It's not about what you can do, it's about how you do it, and when. Because when I seem to be cornered, I find a way out. When I seem beaten, I find a way to win. When someone seems to have my number... I find a way to prove them wrong." He leans closer to the camera until the shot is filled with his face, his black hair hanging down beside his face. "The fact that you jumped me... well, I'm guessing that was a reaction to the intimation that someone was better than you. You might well believe that no-one's better than you JJ, but just to be on the safe side I have a piece of advice for you. "Prepare to be proved wrong." FADE OUT

“Ladies and gentleman, SWF Lockdown is back from a fake world where only people who can’t get laid go to!” “That’s not necessarily true, King.” “Yes, it is,” replies the heel color-commentator, “I am the Suicide King, alongside the handicapped Mak Francis!” “Tonight, the Survival of the Fittest tournament begins! Eight men, four matches! The winner from those matches will meet on Smarkdown for the SWF International Title!” “Up next is the first match of the tournament!” spouts off the Suicide King, “A match with years worth of back story!” The arena is dark, silent as a pair of echoes sweep over the crowd, bringing the lights up slightly with each one, as the fans rise to their feet and thick anticipation builds… Suddenly, 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. “Here comes the man that will be facing ‘Hollywood’ Spike Jenkins…a man that he has much hatred for due to Jenkins’ actions over the past several years.” “Remember back in the SJL when Spike shot a fireball into Manson’s face when he was trying to prove he was hardcore enough to fight then JL-World Champion, Crowe?” “Or when Spike stole Manson’s SWF Tag Team Title and breaking up the team of Manson and JJ Johnson?” “Or when Spike won the SWF Hardcore Gamers Title when he hit Manson in the head with a Buddha statue…the night he became the King of Cambodia?” “So…what has Manson done to Spike?” “I’m assuming he is going to kick his ass tonight.” “I hope so,” replies Francis. To the cheers (???) of the crowd, Manson throws aside the curtain and enters the arena, the hood of his robe obscuring his sneer as he pauses at the head of the ramp and looks over the sea of Tauren and Night Elves, before heading down to the ring. “The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is a qualifying match for the Survival of the Fittest! First, making his way to the ring. Hailing from Denver, Colorado…weighing in at a total of Two Hundred and Thirty Pounds…he is Hate Personified…HE IS MAAAAAAAAAANSOOOONNNNNNNNNNN!” He undoes his belt, letting his robe hang open, and heads up the ring steps. Through the ropes he enters, immediately heading to his corner, ascending the turnbuckles and flicking off his hood. He throws up the horns to the acclaim of the fans taking a moment to bask in the attention. “The crowd is certainly behind MANSONOSITY~ tonight.” “I think it has more to due with the fact…that well…his opponent isn’t very much liked around these parts…” “But his whore of an ex-girlfriend is.” “Oh, the humor in his pain.” “AND HIS OPPONENT!” booms Funyon. Every light in the arena goes to full power as the Smarktron whites out. For a moment the only sound is that of a needle scratching over vinyl... And then *BAM* The heavy drumming of Norma Jean’s “Creating Something Out of Nothing, Only to Destroy It” blasts through the arena as the lyrics pierce the ears of everyone listening. “Like bringing a knife to a gun fight… Like Bringing A Knife To A Gun Fight… LIKE BRINGING A KNIFE TO A GUN FIGHT!” Bright white lights begin flashing at the entranceway. As the growls hit the crowd, Spike walks out wearing a black hoodie on, the hood covering most of his face. Spike drops down to one knee, leaving one arm to hang to the ground, while the other is firmly placed on his knee. After a few moments, Spike raises both arms into an “X”, symbolizing his Straight Edge life style. Spike rises to his feet and begins to make his way down the isle towards the ring. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!” “The crowd REALLY hates Jenkins,” King reports, “This is pretty bad…” “They might riot, King.” “I doubt it. We don’t have any Ore or Gold.” “Making his way to the ring, he hails from Hollywood, California but represents the Cambodian Embassy. Weighing in at a total of Two Hundred and Twenty Pounds, he is The King of Cambodia…HE IS ‘HOLLLLLLLLYWOOOOOOOOOD’ SPIIIIIIIIIIIIIKE JEEEEEEENKINNNNNNSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!” Spike makes his way completely around the ring and rolls underneath the bottom rope. He continues rolling until he hits dead center in the middle of the ring. Spike rises to one knee and resumes the position he was in at the top of the entranceway. One arm hanging to the ground, the other placed on his knee. Finally, Spike rises to his feet. He quickly peels off the hood, releasing his blonde, dyed hair free. He puts his arms together, forming an “X” across his chest, again promoting his Straight Edge life style. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!” “This crowd is deafening!” “That’s what you get when you try to blow up the Blizzard Entertainment Corporation’s official building.” The referee checks both men for illegal objects and when satisfied, calls for the bell. *Ding Ding Ding* Jenkins and Manson both step out of the corner into the center of the ring where they lock up with a collar-and-elbow tie up. Both men vie for control, Manson using his power and Spike using his technique to gain the advantage. They both try to shake each other around, but we all know technique beats brute strength. Spike hooks the arm and swings behind, locking MANSONOSITY in a hammerlock~! “Spike Jenkins starting the match off slowly with a hammerlock,” commentates Francis, “Spike showed his chain-wrestling skills on Storm by humiliating Matt Myers.” Manson tries to shake Spike off, but Jenkins quickly slides over into a side headlock. He drops down to one knee, flipping him over with a side headlock takedown. Manson hits the mat hard, knocking some of the oxygen out of his body. Spike uses his legs to trap his opponents’ free arm and wrenches back on the neck. “Spike now keeping the striker down on the mat. Smart ring-work by the Hollywood Superstar!” Manson shoots his legs up, attempting the only counter that is possible. He wraps his legs around the neck of Spike, ripping him away from the side headlock and capturing him in a head scissors! “Manson counters the side headlock with a head scissors that is turning the so-called King of Cambodia’s face blue!” “MANSONOSITY at its finest.” Jenkins struggles to breath as he frantically heaves his legs into the air and slamming them upon the mat. Manson uses his arm to raise his body off the mat, applying pressure to the neck of his opponent. Spike rolls over onto his side and balances himself with a headstand while still trapped in the head scissors! Manson sits up, watching as the Hollywood Superstar springs himself out of the hold and onto his feet! Before he is capable of trying to stop the King of Cambodia, Jenkins propels himself into the air and catching MANSONOSITY in the face with a dropkick! “Dropkick out of the head scissors by Jenkins,” cries the Suicide King, “Amazing technical wrestling skills!” Manson clenches his face as he rolls into the corner. Spike climbs to his feet, holding his arms out in a parading manner as he strides around the ring. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “What did Spike do to these poor kids in the audience to make them hate him so much? Sleep with their mothers?” asks a curious Suicide King. “Even worse,” responds Mak, “He slept with Morgan Webb.” “That lucky bastard.” “But the real question here is what can Manson do to put Spike down,” Francis enquires, “Manson is a brawler, but Spike is frustrating him with chain wrestling and keeping him on the mat!” Manson gets to his feet and charges at Jenkins…who quickly slips behind him and locks in a rear waistlock! Spike lifts Manson off the ground, attempting a takedown…but Manson fights back down to his feet. Spike, instead of trying for another, drops to one knee and trips Manson onto his face with a rear double leg takedown. Spike hops to his feet and places one foot on the back of Manson’s head, forcing him onto the mat as he poses for the booing Mages and Warriors! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Reminiscent of his match against Matt Myers on Storm,” says the Suicide King. But Manson isn’t Matt Myers. He’s motherfucking MANSONOSITY~ Manson squeezes his head out from underneath the boot of Spike Jenkins, causing the New Straight Edge Sensation to stumble forward. Manson, somehow finding the powers of UFC strike Chuck Liddel, hops to his feet. Jenkins turns around to meet a now standing and free-of-headlocks Manson…who fires off a BIG left hook that knocks Jenkins back! And a second! And a third that sends Spike into the ropes! “The ol’ southpaw to the jaw,” Francis says jokingly, “This is how Manson is going to beat Spike! He is going to use his striking to knock that bastard out cold!” Manson grabs Spike by the wrist and Irish whips him across the ropes…but Spike reverses and sends Manson into the opposite ropes. Manson hits the ropes and bounces back, picking up a full head of steam as he charges at the straight edger and attempting to rip his face off by planting a STIFF back elbow to the face! The impact of the blow causes the crowd to send out a “OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH” as Jenkins tumbles to the mat and rolls as quickly as he can outside of the ring. “Damn it, Manson,” cries the King, “Spike needs that face to pick up emo girls after the show! Beating him is one thing, but destroying his chances of getting laid? THAT is evil.” “As the ways of MANSONOSITY~” Manson follows Jenkins out of the ring, stalking behind his opponent. Spike sees Manson coming and takes a swing, cracking him in the jaw with an elbow that doesn’t really do much damage. ONE!! Manson retaliates with a left hook of his own, that sends Spike stumbling back. TWO!! He grabs Jenkins by the wrist and Irish whips him into the guardrail…but Spike reverses it and tosses Manson into the steel placing! THREE!! FOUR!! Spike quickly rolls into the ring and back out, forcing the referee to restart the count. Spike lines up with Manson against the guardrail and charges at him…only for Manson to backdrop Jenkins over the guardrail and into the crowd! “HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!” “Manson just tossed Spike over the guardrail and into the crowd!” ONE!! TWO!! Manson hazily turns around and staggers over the railing. He reaches down, grabbing Spike by the hair and hauls him to his feet. With the support of the crowd behind him, he chucks Spike over the guardrail and back into the ringside area. THREE!! “MANSON! MANSON! MANSON!” “The crowd is really behind Manson tonight!” exclaims Mak. “It’s because they hate Spike and Manson is a freak, just like them.” “How dare you call the power of MANSONOSITY~ a…‘freak’!” “I don’t see the big deal of this MANSONOSITY that you speak of, Mak.” “Well, he is beating the crap out of Spike Jenkins right now!” FOUR!! Manson climbs over the guardrail, pursuing Jenkins as he climbs to his feet. Spike uses the steel post to pull himself up, as he turns towards Manson. The Raging Bull charges at full speed at Jenkins, looking for his finisher, THE RAGING LARIAT! Manson blasts towards Jenkins…who uses his speed to drop to the mat, drop toe holding Manson shoulder first straight into the steel post!!! “Manson goes shoulder first into the steel post,” shouts Francis, “That was his left shoulder, King! How will this affect his striking ability?” “Very badly.” FIVE!! The crowd gets to their feet (and hooves, for some of them) and barrages the ringside area with disdain. Spike wallows to his feet, looking at the fallen body of Manson. He grins as he stumbles to the ring and rolls in underneath the bottom rope. “Spike is going to win this by count out!” SIX!! Manson grips his left shoulder as he tries to get to his feet. The whole arena, face and heel side, cheer on for The Walking War to get to his feet. SEVEN!! EIGHT!! Manson gets to his feet and falls over onto the ring apron… NINE!! TEN---NO! MANSON SLIDES INTO THE RING!! “Manson just barely beating the ten count,” Francis barks, “The match continues!” The crowd cheers as Manson slides into the ring…but Jenkins isn’t cheering. He charges at The War Machine, violently stomping at the left arm. Manson tries to push Jenkins away, but Spike retaliates with a swift sidekick to the arm! Manson stumbles to his feet, giving Jenkins the opportunity to pull his arm backwards into a hammerlock. He bucks his hips and lifts Manson off the ground and into the air, bringing him backwards and dropping him on the arm! “Hammerlock Suplex!” Spike rolls over onto his feet, as Manson shouts in pain. He turns over onto his hands and knees, attempting to get up…but Spike cuts him off with another martial arts kick to the shoulder. Manson lets out another shriek as The King of Cambodia jumps on top of him, taking him to the mat. He locks Manson’s right arm in between his legs and pulls back on the left arm in a Rings of Saturn! “Rings of Saturn!” Manson shouts in pain as he struggles to break free…but it is no use. Manson cries that he quits and the referee calls for the bell! *Ding Ding Ding* “What an abrupt finish!” “What can you expect? Things to do.” Spike’s music plays and he leaves the winner! Fuck World of Warcraft.

“Tonight,” fading in, the crowd is acquainted with a face to meet Ben Hardy’s voice, “I’ve got yet another chance to speak with the Cruiserweight Champion, ‘Iron’ Mike Cross.” The backstage is shown in full view as the fade is complete and the camera pans out slightly to capture the standing body of ‘Iron’ Mike Cross. “Jay Hawke is one of the most dominant International Title holders this company has ever seen – if not the most dominant. His reign lasted longer than anyone’s in history, and tonight, that man is your challenger, your only road block on the way Ground Zero.” “Yeah,” Mike interrupts with gusto, “He’s no roadblock, though, Ben.” Mike unzips his hooded sweatshirt down to the last link, revealing the belt gripped tight to his waist. “As far as I’m concerned, Ben Hardy, he’s just another challenger for my title, and if I lose, my own title reign is over. To me, he’s simply another contender wanting to steal what I’ve earned, and I’ve gotta tell you, that makes me more dangerous than ‘The Dean of Professional Wrestling’.” “So you’re saying you’re treating tonight like it’s a must-win title defense?” “You have to,” Mike points out, “You’ve gotta treat every match like it’s your last, and tonight, he might have the potent arsenal of submissions and maneuvers up for use, he might have the eyes on him, but I’ve got the best opportunity and a dangerous amount of determination in my corner.” “What do you mean?” “You don’t see it,” ‘Iron’ Mike’s face has not an emotion present as he’s all business tonight, “But I do, and that’s the problem. All these people see the name Jay Hawke in contention for the International Title, and he’s the main attraction. As much as they hate him they’re a crowd of hypocrites, they know it’s his name that sold this place out tonight, they know his return screams epic. And my name? My name’s just the one beside his, some punk from Detroit looking to scrape his way into a match that no one wants to see him in.” “I wouldn’t go that far…” “I would,” Mike pauses, “But what matters is my determination – not to lose, to prove the world wrong, and to never lose while holding this belt ever again. It’s as simple as this, Jay, you’re going to have to pry my shoulder from its socket – no problem, it’s something I’ve experienced. You’re going to have to tear my jaw from my face – pain I’m willing to take to win. You’re going to have to break me mentally, physically; you’re going to have to destroy my body. That’s something I’m willing to endure, because to me, all this does is put me one step closer to proving this fucking place wrong, one step closer to Sunday, and one step closer to facing Zyon.” “Well, tonight Jay Hawke is going to need to be on his a-game, which comes expected with the kind of caliber athlete he is. Tonight though, according to this young man,” The camera shifts to the right to catch Mike Cross leaving, “he’s going to have to do more, he’s going to have to break him. I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait for tonight’s match, I can’t wait!”

Lockdown returns from a commercial despite the opening match having yet to be wrestled. Anyway, a big bird with a camera swoops around the Gurubashi Arena, showing off the World of Warcraft fans screaming loudly, and a few Kingdom of Loathing-ites scattered about. In particular is a very exhuberant fan waiving a sign that proclaims "BASHY HATE FETUS!". Off in a corner, Bobby Riley has stripped to his skivvies and is trying to dance for money, but it doesn't work because: A. He's not an elf and B. He's not pretending to be a woman, so he gets beaten with sticks. "It's time for the first match of the night," beginulates the Franchise. "However, some fucking level five paladin asshole ninja'd the ring, so we've got to wait a while for it to respawn. Fucking Alliance dipshits. Paladins can't even use rings, and if they could, you have to be at least a level forty-five!" King yells. "However, the show must go on, so Jimmy the Doom will face off against Ciro Vitale in the Gurubashi Arena, like the gladiators of old," Mak states. "Except it's unlikely Azeroth ever had any Roman gladiators. Also, there will be rules, and the sides of the arena will act as the ropes, at least in terms of rope breaks," King points out. Before anything else can be said, the light goes out because some kind of wizard cast a spell of darkness, and a bunch of druid-ish people (Can't say druids because there are actual druids in the World of Warcraft) march out, all chanting one word continuously. "DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM!" It would seem the wizard's mana has run out as the light returns, and a bard maybe plays "Yakety Sax" on a lute or something. Jimmy the Doom walks out, followed by Lois the Unethical, who is holding the Hardcore title. Doom stands in the middle of the arena, while Lois and the druid-ish folk climb into the stands. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Lockdown!" Funyon booms. "The following match is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, being accompanied by Lois the Unethical, currently eating some cotton candy, he is from Doomopolis, Doomtopia, weighs two hundred, thirty pounds, and is the current Hardcore Gamers champion. The Straight-Bread Sensation, Jimmy the Doom!" The bard guy motions for some people to step up, and the band begins playing a shitty, Renaissance fair version of Strapping Young Lad's "Imperial" (Then again, the song might be crappy on its own). Ciro Vitale walks out from the Horde section, an act that causes some uproar, as Ciro is a fucking human. "And his opponent, from Clearwater, Florida, he weighs two hundred, twenty-four pounds and is a member of the Axis, Ciro Vitale!" Funyon shouts. Vitale walks to the center of the arena, and he just stares at Doom, unsure of what to do. "Damn it, where the hell is the referee?" King asks. "Aw, shit. I just read who it is, and trust me, you'll be wishing this just breaks down into a brawl right now," Mak says. Far off in the distance, a sound can be heard, faint at first (Not surprising, as it's far off), but growing louder each passing second. "L E E E E E E E E E E E EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEROY JJJJJEEEEEEENKINS!" "Oh, fuck no," King wails. The well-known and possibly mentally handicapped paladin runs into the arena, clad in striped plate mail, apparently the referee for the first match. Before he can check for weapons, a giant-ass bear rushes down and smacks the shit out of Jenkins, knocking him into the side of the arena. "Damn, kid can draw aggro like a motherfucker," Mak comments. "That's a quality tank right there." "Well, everyone hates him, so, yeah, that's what you want in a tank, I guess," King replies. Leeroy picks himself up, pulls out a chicken leg and takes a bite. "All right chums, let's do this!" Jenkins shouts. DING! DING! DING! Trying his best to ignore the odd referee, Vitale focuses in on the equally odd Doomtopian, who catches him off guard with a lunging jab. Ciro backpedals and Jimmy gives chase, firing off kick after kick, none connecting, but forcing Vitale towards the edge of the arena. Doom leaps forward, smashing his forearm into Ciro's chest and pinning him against the wooden wall. With his free hand, the Straight-Bread Sensation begins peppering Vitale with machine gun palm strikes. "Jimmy the Doom, in typical fashion, wasting no time and is already taking it to Ciro Vitale with those shoteis," Francis says. "Yeah, but he's barely got any wind up on them. They might be rapid fire, but there's hardly any force behind them," King points out. Leeroy wanders over, thinks about admonishing Doom since the walls are technically the ropes, but is quickly distracted by the glint of his greaves. Doom continues to pound Vitale with palm strikes, but Ciro quickly counters with a knee to the groin. Jimmy stumbles away and Vitale takes him to the mat with a bulldog. "Nice use of Trel'thazar's Bane by Ciro Vitale to get out of what was, at best, an annoying predicament," King says. "King, it was a knee to the balls. I mean, if anything, wouldn't that be like, Annie's Bane?" Mak asks. "You shut up right now. If these nerds find out we might have an actual female lesbian, they'll never let us leave," King mutters. Vitale climbs up, waits on Doom, and then hurls a handful of sand into the Doomtopian's eyes. Ciro races forward and dropkicks Jimmy back to the ground. Vitale crawls over to Jimmy, grabs his near leg, and rolls to make a lateral press so that Ciro can look at the crowd while Leeroy counts. That is, if Leeroy begins counting. However, he currently has scrawled "AFK" onto his chest plate and is staring at the sun. "Fuckin' Rain Man," Funyon mumbles. The massively mammoth Oregonian ring person guy (MMORPG, LOLZ~!) leans over the wall and slaps his hand on the rough wood, taking over ref duties for the time being. ONE! With only one leg hooked, and it being the near limb, too, Ciro doesn't have much leverage, which is probably why Jimmy does the nice thing and bring his other leg up. Particularly, he brings his knee up and into the side of Vitale's head, knocking him loose. "Vitale with the first pinfall of the night, but it barely gets a one count, and I think he's about to learn the hard way that Jimmy the Doom doesn't go down very easily," Mak says. "Unlike your mother, who goes down for about five bucks a pop! OH, SNAP, SPICY FUCKIN' BURNSAUCE RIGHT THERE!" King exclaims. "God damn you." Ciro climbs to his feet and boots Jimmy in the gut. Vitale takes hold of Jimmy's left wrist and attempts an armwringer, but Doom counters by pulling Ciro in, perhaps for a short-arm something or other. However, Vitale is a young, spry guy (Which is totally different from a Fry Guy, so don't even think he's got French fries for hair or something) and he improvises, letting go of the Straight-Bread Sensation and tossing his arm around Doom's chest. Ciro sweeps Jimmy to the dirt and is about to pop back to his feet, but finds lanky Doomtopian arms wrapped around his head, trapping him. "Ciro Vitale with a nice STO, but he's still on the ground, for some reason," Mak says. "From what I can tell, I'd say it's an arm triangle, or a side choke. The Doomstroyer has used a standing version a few times, and I guess he taught it to Jimmy," King states. Leeroy wanders over to the two grapplers, bends down, and asks Jimmy if he'd like to submit. Doom refuses to answer, so Jenkins turns his attention on Vitale, posing the same question to the Floridian by way of Naples. Naples, Italy, as there is a Naples, Florida. However, Ciro finds it hard to answer as some weird guy with strange personal odor is currently trying to choke him out, so Vitale just flails with his free hand. Vitale flails some more, before planting his hand on the ground and trying to simply pull his head free. It works, but a left cross from Doom practically knocks Vitale out cold. "Ciro has managed to slip free of that arm triangle choke, but he's got to be really woozy after having blood and oxygen flow to his brain restricted," Mak says. "Well, considering he just slumped over after that punch from Jimmy the Doom, I'd have to agree," King says. The Straight-Bread Sensation pulls Ciro up and whips him into the wall of the arena. Jimmy races after him and grabs Vitale by the hair. Doom bends the Floridian double and drops to the mat with the Doom Factor. However, Jimmy isn't quite ready to pin Ciro and leaves him shoved against the wall. The Hardcore champ backs up ten paces and darts towards Vitale, sliding across the ground and into the side of his head with a basement dropkick. Jimmy drags Vitale away from the wall on the off chance Leeroy Jenkins remembers that the wall counts as the ropes, and makes a lateral press. Shockingly, Jenkins drops to make the count. ONE! TWO! A large squirrel scampers down the stands and into the arena. It kicks Leeroy in the face, clamps it's jaws around his body and rushes back to whatever dwelling a giant-ass squirrel has. Grumbling, Funyon leans over to make the final count. THREE! DING! DING! DING! "And the winner of this match, Jimmy the Doom!" Funyon yells. A fife player strikes up "Yakety Sax" once more as Jimmy climbs up the wall and joins Lois. Suddenly, a wrestling ring appears in the air and crashes down on top of Ciro Vitale. "What the hell ass crap?!" Mak exclaims. "Hey, looks like a warlock summoned a ring elemental," King says. "Oh, yeah, you're right. Should work until we find that turd who stole the real ring, kill him, and then loot his corpse," Francis replies. Lockdown fades to commercial for Vampicorns and Uniculas Unlimited (Basically, it's a clothing store for unicorns that are also vampires and/or Draculas)

The fine folks at Milliways offered to transport the SWF back to a time BEFORE this accursed Fictional World Tour ever began, but then all the people who bought tickets for the remaining shows would be ripped off, and we can't have angry letters coming at us from all over the sea of time, now can we? Instead, we asked them to ship us back to Earth, present time, as our Science Fiction leg of the tour has just about run its course. It's time for some more normal, earth-based loca- *sees the card* God damn it! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents... SWF Lockdown! Live, Wednesday, July 19th, from the Gurubashi PvP Arena in Stranglethorn Vale, Azeroth! (6pm PST, 10pm EST; check local listings) (Send all promos/marked matches to chirs3) Fans of the good guys will be sitting on the left, which is where the good guys will enter from. Those cheering the heels will sit on the right, which is where the heels will enter from. The audience will be entirely made up of SWF Fans, though some of them may be cosplaying their WoW characters. God help us. Also, it's time to kick off the... INTERNATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP TOURNAMENT~! Eight names went into the hat, and these four matches came out! Note that the results were MOSTLY random - I say mostly because I didn't want to run Spike vs. Sly for the third time this month, so I made sure they stayed apart. The winners of these four matches will meet on Smarkdown, in an as-yet-undetermined type of match! -=-=-=-=- MAIN EVENT - INTERNATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP TOURNAMENT MATCH "The Dean of Professional Wrestling" Jay Hawke vs. Michael Cross -> OOOOOOOH YEAH, BITCHES! JAY HAWKE IS BACK! He may not have created the International Title (those honors go to a far more Dangerous fellow), but he has become synonymous with its name. Hawke's run with the IN title is legendary, and it looks like he's back for a second go! But how did he finagle his way into the tournament you ask? Blame that (and most everything else) on good ole' Joe Peters. He thought the team of Maddix and Stephens was DYN-O-MITE, and has used his Executive Privilege to pull Maddix from the tournament in order to team them up again! What a crazy coincidence, then, that Jay Hawke reappeared at the last show, demanding a spot in the tournament! Funny how things work out, huh? Rules: Standard singles. -=-=-=-=- TAG TEAM MATCH Two Skinny White Guys (Michael Stephens and Landon Maddix) vs. Kerry Staunton and Scott Rageheart -> I was this close to using "Turn Your Head and Thoth". Against everyone's predictions, Michael Stephens and Landon Maddix somehow managed to pull out a win over the Doomtopians on Storm! Joseph Peters was so impressed with the match (and the ratings) that he's actually yanked Maddix from the International Tournament, to open up more tagging opportunities! Tonight, Two Skinny White Guys take on the team that just fell short of capturing Tag Team gold on Storm, Kerry Staunton and Scott Rageheart! Rules: Standard tag team match. Use the tag ropes! -=-=-=-=- INTERNATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP TOURNAMENT MATCH Bruce Blank vs. Zyon -> Random Pairings are awesome, because you get some badass matches like this one! A fire's been lit under Bruce Blank's ass, and if he is to be believed, then his reign with the International Title will be more awe-inspiring than even Jay Hawke's! That is assuming he wins the title in the first place, though, and with stiff competition like Zyon in his way, Bruce had better keep his mind on the matters at hand! Rules: Standard singles. -=-=-=-=- CRUISERWEIGHT MATCH Wildchild vs. Tom Flesher -> A little over/under/whatever two months ago, these two clashed at the Taj Mahal, and Wildchild came out the victor! Well Flesher's got his sights set on the Cruiserweight Gold around Michael Cross's waist, but with Cross occupied in the tournament, we needed another Cruiser to keep Tom sharp, and we imagine he's got a score to settle with this particular cruiser. Two of the SWF's finest do battle once again! Rules: Standard singles, with Cruiser addenda. Surely you know them by now. -=-=-=-=- SINGLES MATCH Charlie "Grappler" Matthews vs. Grendel -> It's no secret that Grendel's got a score to settle with Tom Flesher, but after his demasking in the handicap match, he's also got a bit of ANGER~! left over for Grappler! Tonight they meet again, this time one-on-one! Rules: Standard singles match. -=-=-=-=- INTERNATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH "The Divine Wind" Akira Kaibatsu vs. Austin Sly -> Austin Sly has showed a great deal of interest in the International Title recently, up to earning a shot for it against Aecas! That plan has sort of fallen through, but Sly's renewed determination has not! Many are pinning Sly as a good bet to take the gold, but first he'll have to get through the freshly returned Akira Kaibatsu! Rules: Standard singles. -=-=-=-=- SINGLES MATCH Trent Hawk vs. Insane Luchador -> Upset city, baby! Trent Hawk ends up pulling a Zyon (that is, being a rookie who rocks from the get-go) and BEATING Zyon in the same night! The same match, even! The Axis are off to a good start, and Hawk looks to make it a better start as he takes on the Insane Luchador! Rules: Standard singles. -=-=-=-=- INTERNATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP TOURNAMENT MATCH "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins vs. MANSONOSITY~! -> If memory serves, these two have history. KARMA pits them against each other in the qualifying round of the International Championship Tournament! Rules: Standard singles. -=-=-=-=- OPENING BOUT Jimmy the Doom vs. Ciro Vitale -> DO BIG BATTEL. (better description pending) Rules: Standard singles. -=-=-=-=-

... that's a damn good idea, actually. We could take a step further - 10 best PPV's in fed history, and go through them in ascending order, so the shows leading up to the upcoming Pay Per View are from the locations of the 10th best PPV, 9th best PPV, 8th best PPV, etc. And when we have our Pay Per View, it will come from the location of our #1 Best PPV.

There was no problem with the regular World Tour. We'll be doing it again next year, sans the Fictional second half. I'm just looking for ideas for the other nine months of the year. Canadian Tour, Southern Tour, etc.

Anyone?

1. Via PM or this thread, lemme know your PPV plans. Even if I know them already, tell me again. 2. So the Fictional World Tour isn't going over as swimmingly as I'd hoped. Live and learn, I suppose. Even so, I do think going on themed tours, like the Hell or High Water Southern Tour, is better than "random midwestern arena, random midwestern arena, random midwestern arena". What do you guys think? Do you like the idea of themed tours? What are some tours we should consider doing in the future? Go as wild (or mild ) as you like. And no, we're not taking nominations for Official PPV Theme Song this time. You'll understand when the time comes.

How is that possible? Sent from a TSM account created a short while ago. Zero posts, no info in the profile, and nothing relating to the sender in the message itself. As far as I can tell, the account was made just for sending this message.

Send to me, I suppose. Man, where are all our retirees when we need 'em?

No clue. This was delivered to my inbox anonymously.

Dunno about him, but I could use a little advice here too. I've got a video file I need to move from one PC to the another. It's 701 megs, but the CDR's I have only hold 700 (don't have a DVDR drive). There any programs I can use to just hack off the first minute of the video or something, to cut the size down?

My money's on T-Bone.

[bLACK SCREEN] "In its history humanity has always learned to fear. 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." [There is a brief flurry of black-and-white images; scenes of destruction, looking like they come from World War II, the Vetnam War, the Gulf War, before the screen returns to black] "Now this has changed. It is no longer our own beast we have to fear." [There is an extreme closeup of what appears to be a tattoo of a triad of sixes on the back of someone's neck. Then the bearer seems to whip around and the camera is knocked over before any more details can be seen. As the camera lies on its side a pair of boots appear in shot before one raises in the air, then comes down and the screen blacks out] FEAR THE BEAST

Let's try this again: Most matches have markers now. Still shopping around, as I hate giving people double (or god forbid, triple) duty, so the two matches still without markers should be edited in a bit.

Doh. Wrong thread indeed. I ams teh idiotz.

Most matches have markers now. Still shopping around, as I hate giving people double (or god forbid, triple) duty, so the two matches still without markers should be edited in a bit.

Madison Cubed Garden has been added to a list of potential future sites...

Why I oughtaaaa... *shakes fist*

Johnny had ISP troubles, Blank. Winner of your match is up. Also, Spike/Amy is up as well. Hooray!

I've never really understood how this stuff works. Anyone care to explain?

I would just like to say that attempting to mark Zyon vs. Trent was painful. Literally. It actually hurt, trying to pick the better match. They were two of the most evenly-matched matches I've seen. Not-winner (I won't spoil it here), your match is most definitely Not-Winner-Thread material. I encourage you to post it.