chirs3

Sadly, you seem to be the only one. Hell, whenever a new Administration takes office, I'd come back just for House Rules. Up for a Best of Five?

Well fine, be that way! See if I care!

It's Johnny's birthday? The thing at the bottom of the forums didn't list him. Oh well. Happy Birthday, Johnny!

As soon as I see janus, I'm going to beat his password out of him, so I can raid his inbox should this happen again. He already has mine, for the same reason.

Done.

Yeah, I was hoping to get Ciro and Cross on here, but they were all "Nah, forget it", and I was all "Oh you guys suck!" and they were all "Nuh uh!" and I was all "Yuh huh!" and they were all "Nuh uh!" and... Well, you get the jist of it. EDIT: DREW! I see you there! Come back, damn it!

I have no clue where Janus is, and I cannot haxx0r his account to get the show stuff, so I figured I should get this up as quick as possible to let you guys get started. Hopefully, the show itself will be up tonight. Also: if you know what's good for you, you will not request the next show off. Remember when I said ReBoot was the best location ever? I lied. Don't request Lockdown off. It will so be worth it.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation is proud to present... The first ever SWF USO SHOW! On June 30th, the SWF will be entertaining the brave men and women who risk their lives every day to protect us from the overshadowing threat of the Covenant Onslau- Wait, what? I thought we were going back to Iraq! Then what troops are we entertaining? ... ... ... ... you've gotta be kidding me. *sigh* The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents... SWF LOCKDOWN! Live, Friday, June 30th, from the fourth Pelican Bay aboard the Cairo Orbital Defense Platform! (6pm PST, 10pm EST; check local listings) (Send all promos/marked matches to chirs3) Look sharp, men! And you too, Amy. This week, the UNSC has commissioned us to entertain the troops of the United Earth Space Corps! We have been assigned to the Cairo Orbital Defense Platform, which is a fancy shmancy term for GIGANTIC FUCKING CANNON IN SPACE. These brave men and women have just come back from the front lines, battling for their lives on the Forerunner ringworld of Halo (Installation 04), and it's our job to help them make the best of their R&R! Oh, and long-range sensors have just picked up a large Covenant attack force heading right for us. I imagine by the time we've finished our second or third match, their boarding craft will begin latching onto the Cairo, and the audience (made up mostly of Marines, ODST's, and Officers) will begin engaging the enemy. So, if you're on the second half of the card... well, just keep your head down. Good luck! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- THE MAIN EVENT - TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH The New Doomtopians (Jimmy the Doom and Doomstroyer) vs. Tom Flesher and Charlie "Grappler" Matthews -> A little while back, Flesher and Grappler took down the former #1 Contenders to the Tag Team Titles, and tonight, their shot gets cashed in against the probably/possibly/potentially/maybe unstoppable New Doomtopians! Rules: Standard Tag Team Match. Word Limit: 5500 Send to: chirs3 -=-=-=-=- House Rules - Escape Pod Match Bruce Blank vs. Grendel -> Next up on the Michael Stephens World Championship Defense Circuit is record-setting Bruce Blank! Unfortunately, Stephens has the night off. And an idle Blank is... well, I guess it's not all that bad. He just drinks a lot. But in any case, we need him sober for next week, so tonight he faces Grendel in House Rules! At this point in the show, I imagine shit will be blowing up everywhere, sirens will be going off, and the mad dash for the escape pods will begin. One has been set aside for our match tonight. Rules: No DQ, no Countouts. There are a number of keys around the ring. One is hanging above the ring, Ladder-match-style. A few are hidden inside tables set up around the ring, so breaking the tables is the only way to reach them. Maybe a few are taped to some steel chairs around the ring, or mixed in with a bag thumbtacks. Use your imagination. The object of the match is to find the correct key that unlocks the Escape Pod, then get inside. Winner gets a free ride to the next show. Loser will probably die in a terrible explosion, just like the rest of us left on the station. Word Limit: 5000 Send to: Evolution -=-=-=-=- Tag Team Match Scott Rageheart and Kerry Staunton vs. Zyon and Insane Luchador -> Scott Rageheart and Kerry Staunton, the newest Tag Team addition to the fed, takes a step above the likes of Myers and Griffon. Tonight they test their skizzills against perennial favorites Zyon and Insane Luchador! Rules: Standard tag team match. Word Limit: 5000 Send to: Longdogger Pete -=-=-=-=- Question Mark Man... AGAIN! ??? vs. Stryke -> So, our recent trials with QMM haven't gone so well. FEAR NOT~!, for another enters the fray! Tonight, Stryke is the latest the be awarded the dubious honor of facing THIS GUY. WHO IS NOT THE SAME AS THE LAST GUY. I PROMISE. Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 4500 Send to: MikeofEvil -=-=-=-=- OPENING BOUT Trent Hawk vs. Matt "Insert Gimmick Here" Myers -> Yay for newbies! Fresh-off-the-turnip-farm Trent Hawk makes his SWF debut against the resident JTTS, Matt Myers! Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 4000 Send to: chirs3 -=-=-=-=- Opening Promo: LEEEEEEROOOOOOOOYYYYYYYYYYY JE-... I mean, Spike Jenkins. -=-=-=-=-

I'm halfway through, so I don't know if you guys remember the name later on, but I think the guy you're referring to in the JL was Tryst.

What's this "KTMA" you guys are referring to?

If you guys want more, I'll bump it, but considering this match is being booked 2 days late, I figured better safe than sorry.

Consider Bruce/Sly cage thingy added. Running out the door right now to get to work, so I'll add the official description later. Word limit... 4500 OK?

Preliminary search turns up empty. Found the PPV, but the stats thread is a bit trickier. I'll give it another go tomorrow.

Well that was easy. Name your stip, and I'll add it. (note to self: TEN THOUSAND WORDS)

About when did you guys debut? Rough guesstimate.

If I can get confirmation from everyone in the main that swapping Bruce out for IL is OK, then I'll do it. Don't want to wreck anyone's match if they've already started.

IGN re-charged me automatically, and I'm too lazy to contest it, so I've got another year. Anyone who wants me to dig up anything, just ask.

1. Yes Cross, you can have opening promo. 2. Sorry Mike. The one night I remember all the promos in the show, I end up screwing up the booking. Sorry. 3. No, Bruce didn't request the show off. Everyone else did, though.

Shortly after we went off the air in Doomtopia, the Zirconium Army launched a surprise attack, in retaliation for the kidnapping of their children by Doomtopian-Hired Private Gypsy Forces! Jimmy the Doom nobly sacrificed himself to hold the Zirconia at bay while we packed up our gear and got the hell out of Dodge! ... or, Doomtopia... anyway, we all piled onto the plane, including the dramatic reappearance of Jimmy as he rode into the airport on his Al Packa, with the entire Zirconia army behind him, just in time to catch the flight! Man, it was SO cool! You should've seen it! Anyway, we're in the air now, FINALLY on our way back to the good ole' US of A. Man, I can't wait to- *SOUNDS OF TURBULENCE* What the hell? What was that? *SOUNDS OF TENTACLED DOOM* God damn it, who's flying this thing? ... ... ... OHMYGOD, AN OCTOPUS JUST KILLED THE PILOT! WE'RE GOING DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWN! *KA-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! ... ... ... ... ... *a few hours later* ... ugh... ... every0ne 0K? We all surv1ved? W0w, what are the 0dds? ... 0h g0d... where are we th1s t1me? The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents... SWF LOCKDOWN! Live, Monday, June 26th, from outside Dot's Diner, in the Baudway Sector, in the city of Mainframe! (East of Baudway, west of Floating Point Park) (6pm PST, 10pm EST; check local listings) (Send all promos/marked matches to janusd) For those unfamiliar, here's the Wiki: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ReBoot And here's a brief overview: The setting is in the inner world of a computer system known by its inhabitants as Mainframe. Mainframe is divided into six sectors (moving clockwise): Baudway, Kits, Floating Point Park, Beverly Hills, Wall Street, and Ghetty Prime. Mainframe is populated almost entirely by binomes, little creatures that represent either 1's or 0's, as well as a handful of Sprites who are primarily humanoid creatures of more complex design and are the main characters of the series. ReBoot is full of computer humor and popular culture in-jokes and parodies. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- THE MAIN EVENT - HARDCORE CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH Insane Luchador vs. Jimmy the Doom vs. Spike Jenkins vs. Scott Rageheart --> Sean Davis has left us, sad to say, and he left with the Hardcore Gamer's Title! In a scramble to set things straight, a new (possibly temporary, possibly permanent) Hardcore Title has been established, and the new champion will be decided tonight! As a bonus, a coin toss decided that one of our newest Tag Team wrestlers gets a crack at a legend, and the other gets a shot at a title. Scott Rageheart either won or lost, depending on your view, and his second show in the SWF finds him in the main event, fighting for the vacant Hardcore (not Gamer's) Championship! Rules: Hardcore fatal fourway, but the setting will be any computer game "the user" so desires. For those who haven't seen the show (I pity you), the system will be all "Warning! Incoming game!" and the ring will be enveloped inside of a gamecube. What kind of game "the user" has elected to play will be entirely up to your discretion - action, sports, puzzle, whatever. Once inside, you cannot exit until you win the match. Also note that "the user" will also be attempting to win the game - beware. If he does, you all... crap, I forget what happens if "the user" wins. JJ, fill me in here. Word Limit: 5500 Send to: chirs3 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Cruiserweight Exhibition - Non Title Match Michael Cross © vs. Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix --> Landon no longer pursuing Michael Stephens? What is this, the Twilight Zone? Well, considering this is the Fictional World Tour... ... nevermind. Anyway, Landon's eyes are on a different prize - the one draped over Michael Cross's shoulder. Zyon's first in line for a mandatory rematch, so this bout will be strictly for show, but a victory could guarentee that Maddix gets sloppy seconds. Rules: Standard singles match with Cruiserweight Addenda. Word Limit: 5000 Send to: Longdogger Pete -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- ELECTRIFIED AT INCONVENIENTLY INCONSISTENT INTERVALS CAGE MATCH Bruce Blank vs. Austin Sly --> Alliteration rawks! So do these guys. Rules: Pin to win only. Cage (old WWF bars style, not the wimpy fence crap) will have an electric current running through it whenever the guy at the switch feels like it. Word Limit: 4500? 5000? Dunno yet. Get back to me. Send to: chirs3 - I made this mess, I'd better clean it up. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Let's Book Stuff Late Match, Because Chris = teh dumb Amy Stephens vs. Wildchild -> Matches just keep getting added by the minute! Yeehaw~! Rules: Standard singles. Word Limit: 4500. Send to: Longdogger Pete -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Special Welcoming Committee Match #2 ??? vs. Manson --> SUPER AMAZING QUESTION MARK MAN FACES THE POWER OF MANSONOSITY! Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 4500 Send to: Justice -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Special Welcoming Committee Match #1 Tom Flesher vs. Kerry Staunton --> A coin toss for our new taggers! Heads, you get to face a legend in an exhibition match... tails, you get a title match! Kerry Staunton got heads, and his second match ever in the SWF sees him taking on Tom Flesher! Will we see the veteran put this rookie in his place, or the biggest upset since Cardboard Comet beat Grahf? Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 4500 Send to: janusd -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Opening Bout Ghost Machine 3.0 vs. Ced Ordonez --> Oh god... he's back! Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 4000 Send to: janusd -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- OPENING PROMO: Michael Cross -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Lots o' requests for the show off, but the joke's on you guys! You requested THE REBOOT SHOW off! Suckers! Any ReBoot themed House Rules suggestions in my PM box within the next 8 hours may or may not get used for the Main Event. Couldn't think of any myself, and I've gotta scoot.

SUPER SECRET ENDING PROMO OF GREAT MAGNITUDE STILL TO COME! STAY TUUUUUUUUUUUUUNED!

The shot fades over into a shot of the parkinglot of the Doomerican Airlines Center (of Doom) where all the Gypsy cabs and horse draw carriages are parked. Bruce is leaned against the hood of one of the few actual cars in the parking lot, the back light of the volcano erupting makes Bruce Blank nothing more than an outline as he impatiently waits for something “Where the hell is he at?” Bruce mumbles to himself “Hey PSSSSSSSST Bruce” A voice is heard from the dark and moments later Wayne Blank comes sneaking through the parking lot straight at Bruce “Finally” Bruce mutters and throws the cigarette BUTT over his shoulder before getting up to meet his brother. “Did you get it?” Wayne just pads his jacket pocket and nods with a knowing smile “Was there any problems?” “Oh please bro, I could have done that with my eyes closed, just some piece of shit lock and then a 3 digit combo padlock. Hey you want to go out and have a late dinner?” Wayne asks. “You buying?” Bruce replies “Not really, I found out he had Doomtopian currency in his locker” Wayne says and holds up a bucket before adding “There’s got to be like 75-80 clams there” Bruce just shakes his head in disbelief over the fact that the Doomtopian currency is actually physically clams. “Ooooooooooooor. . . “ Wayne says and pulls out a credit card “Maybe we’ll just let Mr. Flesher put it on his tab instead” “Bro. . . I knew there was a reason I kept you around” Bruce says with a smile as the two brothers walk through the parking lot to find their rental truck. *Starwipe*

“Fans, we’re back here LIVE~ in Doomtopia, and it’s time for our main event!” Mak Francis says with about as much excitement as a suave Franchise can display without losing his Oakleys. “It was ten days ago that Michael Stephens defeated Landon Maddix to win his record-equalling fourth World Title - only a couple of hours previously on the same show, SWF 13th Hour, Zyon had lost his Cruiserweight Title to ‘Iron’ Mike Cross. However, due to Zyon defeating Maddix in a non-title match before 13th Hour, Stephens thought it was only fair that Zyon get a shot.” “Yeah, right,” Suicide King snorts. “Face it Francis, Toxxic’s just offering out title shots to beatable tools to make himself not only look like a fighting champion, but also rack up the defences and stroke his own ego.” “I wouldn’t class Zyon as a beatable tool,” Francis argues. “Hey, he got beat just ten days ago, so that’s one part of your argument down. Plus he uses Incubus as entrance music, so that takes care of the ‘tool’ part.” ‘I’m born… I’m alive… I breathe…’ “YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” The words flash up on the Smarktron and the crowd goes wild as ‘Vitamin’ by Incubus hits, proving that whatever the Suicide King thinks about it, Doomtopia is down with Brandon Boyd. Or maybe they’re just down with Zyon; either way, the cheering only gets louder as the Unique Youth appears from behind the curtain and stands on the soundstage, soaking up the crowd support as overhead, the Smarktron shows clips of some of his greatest matches and most insane stunts. “We heard from Zyon earlier this evening,” Mak reminds viewers. “We also heard him go toe-to-toe - verbally - with Michael Stephens on Aftershoxxx, and it’s clear that the Unique Youth is mentally ready for this match. The only question remaining is; can he step up and dethrone one of the most SWF’s most consistent athletes in the past two or three years?” Zyon seems to think so; after grinning at the cheering Doomtopians he breaks into a sprint, tearing down towards the ring at full speed before leaping up onto the ring apron. From there he grabs the rope in both hands and vaults athletically over it, then hops up to the second turnbuckle and spreads his arms to generate more approval. “ZY-ON!” “ZY-ON!” “ZY-ON!” “King, if Zyon pulls the win out here tonight he’s going to become the first wrestler who joined the SWF since the SJL folded to win the World Title, apart of course from Michael Stephens himself,” Mak Francis points out. “That’s got to be a great motivating factor.” “What about Davenport?” King asks, puzzled. “He doesn’t count.” “Why not?” “He just doesn’t,” Francis says firmly. “But anyway,” the Franchise continues, “I’m anticipating a split crowd here because both Zyon and Stephens are very popular with the fans.” “Yeah, because the fans are morons and love Zyon’s flip-flopping, while also being stupid enough to fall for Toxxic’s tricks,” the Suicide King sniffs. “I’m telling you Francis, he hasn’t changed one bit.” “COME AND HAVE A GO IF YOU THINK YER ‘ARD ENOUGH!” “COME AND HAVE A GO IF YOU THINK YER ‘ARD ENOUGH!” The rolling chants blasts out of the PA system as the Smarktron whites out, before the roar of voices is overtaken by the crashing opening chord of ‘Rookie’ by Boy Sets Fire. As the driving bassline starts to power through the chaos and become more distinct the Smarktron has already darkened to black, jagged white letters flashing up words one at a time to form a easily-recognisable phrase as if in response to King’s last remark: ‘PREPARE TO BE PROVED WRONG…’ Clips start to flash up showing some of Michael Stephens’ most memorable matches, greatest triumphs and, in some cases, most dangerous falls. And after Aecas has had a light tube driven into his jaw, Tom Flesher has taken a Super Intoxxication (or Sunny In England as it is now) and Landon Maddix has been locked in the RTF II the screen changes again, as it always does, to show Mike Van Siclen being taken off a balcony and through a table with the Stephens Shock Syndrome, the devastating landing timed to coincide with the onset of the main riff and the- *BOOOM!* -explosion of red pyro that signifies the arrival of the SWF’s most decorated Englishman! And through the flame and smoke… “TOXXXXXXXXX-IC…” …black hair hanging down over his face, the SWF World Heavyweight Title around his waist… “TOXXXXXXXXX-IC…” …wearing his customised England soccer shirt in honour of his country’s World Cup match against Sweden yesterday… “TOXXXXXXXXX-IC…” …comes the man once known as Toxxic. “Michael Stephens first World Title run ended after only 19 days when he lost the belt to Johnny Dangerous,” Mak Francis says as the World Champion brushes his hair back from his face and looks down towards the ring, steel-grey eyes locking on the figure of his opponent, “a result that many people considered to be something of an upset.” “Upset? It was a freaking tragedy,” Suicide King sniffs. “Regardless, Michael Stephens faces another potential pitfall in Zyon here tonight,” Francis says as Stephens starts to make his way down the ramp. “Zyon may have lost the Cruiserweight Title, but we know that he has the capability of getting the right result in the big matches, or ‘pulling a Zyon’ as it’s become known in the locker room. Stephens is probably the hot favourite, but that just means that Zyon comes into the match with no pressure and nothing to lose.” “Except the ability to walk,” King replies, “this is Toxxic he’s up against, after all.” “Will you stop that?” Francis growls. Michael Stephens has reached the bottom of the ramp now, and as ‘Rookie’ rises towards the first verse he crosses his arms for a moment in the straight-edge ‘X’, then throws them wide, palms flat, triggering another eruption of red pyro, this time from the top of each ringpost! *BOOOM!* ‘I never thought this could be me I guess you never do until it’s happening to you Like all the fun turns into shame And all the “could-have-beens” just rearrange…’ ‘Rookie’ starts to fade out as Stephens rolls into the ring and he unstraps the World Title before handing it to referee Brian Warner, then pulls off his shirt and wads it up before throwing it out to the crowd. Meanwhile Warner holds the title belt up as Funyon steps forward to make his announcement. “Ladies and gentlemen of Doomtopia, the following contest is scheduled for one fall,” the veteran ring announcer begins, “and is for the SWF World Heavyweight Title! Introducing first, the challenger; from Elkhart, Indiana; he stands five feet eleven inches tall and weighed in earlier today at 200lbs; this is the ‘Unique Youth’… ZYYYYYYYYY-ONNNNNNNNNNN!!” “YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “ZY-ON!” “ZY-ON!” “…and his opponent,” Funyon continues over the roar of support for the Unique Youth as Zyon spreads his arms wide once more, “from Nottingham, England; he stands at an even six feet tall and weighed in earlier today at 218lbs; he is YOUR reigning and defending SWF World Heavyweight Champion… MIIIIIIIII-CHAAAAEEEELLLLLL… STEEEEEEEEEEEE-PHENS!!” “YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “TOXXXXXXXXX-IC…” “TOXXXXXXXXX-IC…” Michael Stephens simply cracks his neck from side-to-side and raises one black-nailed hand in acknowledgement of the support he’s receiving from the crowd. However, his attention doesn’t seem to be solely on Zyon anymore. Instead, the World Champion quickly casts a glance around the crowd, as if looking for someone. Apparently not finding the person he’s searching for he returns his attention to his opponent just as Warner calls for the bell. *DING-DING-DING!* Zyon takes advantage of Stephens’ brief inattention immediately, leaping forward as soon as the bell sounds! Stephens dodges to one side and helps Zyon on his way with a shove in the back, then drops down to the mat as the Unique Youth rebounds off the ropes. Zyon hurdles him with ease and heads back to the far cables, then bounces off again only to be snared and taken over with an arm drag! “TOXXXXXXXXX-IC…” Zyon pops back to his feet just as quickly as his opponent, and as Stephens tries to make a grab for him Zyon returns the favour with an armdrag of his own! “ZY-ON!” This time Zyon is a little quicker to his feet than his opponent and takes the opportunity to paste Stephens in the head with a forearm, then before Mike can react he Irish whips the World Champion towards the ropes. Zyon leaps up for a front dropkick as Stephens rebounds… but the Englishman holds onto the top rope and kills his momentum, causing Zyon to land flat on his back looking just a little silly! Stephens then darts forwards and rolls over Zyon, grabbing both legs as he does so to apply a jacknife pin… ONE! …but Zyon kicks out at one and starts to scramble up to all-fours, only to find Stephens diving across his shoulders and taking him over with an Oklahoma Roll! ONE! TW- -but Zyon kicks out before Warner can even think about two, rolling his weight back off his shoulders so he comes up onto his knees! However, as he tries to rise Stephens snares him in a front facelock and then reaches forwards to cradle a leg before rolling back with a small package! ONE! TW- -but Zyon’s having none of it, and kicks out again! “ZY-ON!” “TOXXXXXXXXX-IC…” However, this time as both men come to their feet Stephens gets payback for Zyon’s forearm by pasting his opponent with a European Uppercut! *WHAM!* Zyon staggers and Stephens grabs him to Irish whip his opponent into the ropes; however, Zyon reverses the momentum of the move and sends the World Champion into the cables instead, then follows him in and delivers a running front dropkick that not only kills the Englishman’s momentum but sends him tumbling backwards out of the ring between the top and middle ropes, ending up holding his chest on the arena floor! “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “ZY-ON!” On his back on the mat, Zyon grins. And kips up. “WHOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “Oh snap!” Mak Francis calls, cunningly combining the name of a move with a popular phrase indicating that someone has got the better of someone else, “Zyon’s on fire in the early going.” “Literally?” King asks hopefully, looking for smoke. Michael Stephens isn’t going to let something as mundane as a front dropkick stop him, and he’s already picking himself up on the outside despite his painful fall. However, Zyon’s seen something important. His opponent is outside the ring. He, Zyon, is inside the ring. …and the Unique Youth’s LuchaMatic-o-Vision™ goes *ping*. “King, I think Zyon’s going to go airborne!” Mak Francis exclaims as the man from Indiana jumps up and down a couple of times to warm his legs up, then turns and sprints for the ropes behind him. He rebounds off at high speed and rockets across the ring, then leaves his feet to go sailing out over the top rope, angling down towards Michael Stephens with a dive mimicking that of his famous Final Flash… …and Stephens leaps up to dropkick him in the fucking back! *SMACK!* “SHIT OF HOLIES!” “SHIT OF HOLIES!” “SHIT OF HOLIES!” “Sweet Zombie Christ!” Mak yells (possibly still with memories of the Raccoon City Police Station in his head) as the Doomtopian crowd demonstrates that their command of English isn’t much better than that of their most famous countryman, “Michael Stephens just shot Zyon down like Dick Cheney with a hunting partner!” “Please, Toxxic’s been jumping onto people out of the ring for years,” Suicide King says, “Zyon’s going to have to do better than that to catch him with his own trick.” For his part, Stephens clearly has been a little shaken by finding someone who can match him for speed around the ring, and indeed outpace him. The World Champion gets back to his feet as Zyon lays on the protective mats clutching his back and looks around for inspiration… “Uh-oh,” Mak says, calming down a little, “we all know that Stephens is more than comfortable outside the ring; he has that Hardcore background, and is a great improviser.” Sure enough, as Brian Warner bellows ‘ONE!’ from inside the ring the World Champion seems to have decided that it’s time to use the environment to his advantage and he grabs Zyon to pull him to his feet, then takes the Unique Youth’s wrist and Irish whips him towards the nearest steel guardrail. However, Zyon displays his agility by leaping up to the top of the rail and balancing there for a second… …and Mike, running in after him, slams a basement dropkick into the guardrail that knocks it out from under Zyon’s feet and causes the challenger to fall, landing the small of his back on the steel before he bounces off into the crowd! “SHIT OF HOLIES!” “SHIT OF HOLIES!” “Whoah!” Mak says, eyebrows raising, “I think Zyon might have been going for the Half Moon off that guardrail, but Michael Stephens cut him off at the pass!” “I remember Scott Pretzler pulled the same trick once to stop Toxxic from hitting the Role Reversal in the same situation,” Suicide King nods, “smart move, and further evidence that Pretzler is God.” ‘TWO!’ Michael Stephens reaches over the guardrail and gets hold of his opponent, then hauls Zyon back to his feet and drags the Unique Youth back into the ringside area. ‘THREE!’ Stephens doesn’t hang around to try and cause any more chaos with his opponent’s vertebrae, instead rolling Zyon under the bottom rope into the ring and following him in. He quickly makes a cover, hooking the leg as he does so… ONE! TWO!! …but Zyon kicks out moments after two, proving that it’s going to take more than that to deny him the title! That seems to be fine with Stephens, who scoots around behind his opponent and raises him to a sitting position before threading one arm underneath Zyon’s and locking in an abdominal stretch. The Unique Youth groans in pain as his back is wrenched to one side, but Stephens has his hands locked tight and seems intent on getting as much as he can out of the hold. “TOXXXXXXXXX-IC…” “TOXXXXXXXXX-IC…” “This is good strategy from the champion,” Mak Francis nods as Stephens looks around at the crowd, “grounding and slowing down Zyon takes away the challenger’s main weapon. Stephens made his career on pulling spectacular moves out of nowhere to change the course of the match, and he won’t want anyone using the same tactic on him.” “Or alternatively, he’s out of ideas already,” King remarks, “and is applying an abdominal stretch because he can’t remember how to do anything else.” “Always a possibility.” However, as anyone with a basic knowledge of mat wrestling will tell you, ring positioning is very important. These days Michael Stephens does have a basic knowledge of mat wrestling, but that doesn’t mean he can’t have lapses from time to time. Looking out of the corner of one eye as he head is bent to the side, Zyon realises that the ropes really aren’t that far away from his left leg, and he starts trying to shuffle his body across the canvas to get there. He can’t really use his arms very effectively due to the hold that he’s in, but he’s able to start ‘walking’ his legs towards the cables. The effort causes him to get bent even more painfully, but salvation is very nearly within… …his… …reach… ‘He’s in the ropes!’ Brian Warner declares as Zyon’s boot tip just rests on the bottom cable, ‘break it up Toxx!’ Michael Stephens shoots a quick glare at the referee for the use of his old ring name, but obliges by releasing Zyon and backing away to allow the Unique Youth to get to his feet. “ZY-ON!” “TOXXXXXXXXX-IC…” “ZY-ON!” “TOXXXXXXXXX-IC…” The warring chants are still going on inside the Doomerican Airways Center as Zyon takes his time getting back up, holding onto the ropes as he does so. Stephens gives him a couple of seconds, but sportsmanship only goes so far and as Zyon continues to catch his breath the World Champion decides to press his advantage by advancing on his opponent and driving a knee into the Unique Youth’s gut. Brian Warner begins to remonstrate with the Englishman about striking his opponent in the ropes but Stephens solves that problem by Irish whipping Zyon towards the opposite side of the ring. However, Zyon reverses the momentum once more and sends the World Champion into the cables instead, this time scooping up the onrushing Stephens and twirling him through the air before dumping him down over one knee with a tilt-a-whirl gutbuster! *BANG!* “ZY-ON!” “ZY-ON!” “Tilt-a-whirls are in play,” Mak Francis calls as Stephens rolls away across the mat holding his front again, “and Zyon just returned that knee to the gut with interest!” Zyon isn’t able to follow up all that quickly though as the effort of manoeuvring his opponent’s weight through the air twisted his back painfully, and he’s still finding it a little hard to breathe after the abdominal stretch and the knee to the gut. As a result Michael Stephens is already starting to get up by the time Zyon feels he’s in much shape to do anything, so he allows his opponent to rise but then moves in to grab Stephens’ arm and try to take him down to the mat with what could be a Fujiwara armbar or, then again, could be something else entirely… “ZY-ON!” “ZY-ON!” “He’s going for the Gouki Crossface!” Mak Francis says as Stephens attempts to resist, gritting his teeth to try and avoid being forced to the mat, “it was this move under the name of the Cobra Crossface that allowed Ejiro Fasaki to end Michael Stephens’ last World Title reign!” “Yeah, but that was Ejiro,” King says, “and flawed as he became in his later career, he could actually do the move properly. Unlike Zyon.” However, Zyon has all his weight about Michael Stephens’ shoulder and arm, and the World Champion has been forced down to his knees. With his other hand braced against the mat Stephens still tries to fight his way out… then changes tactics, tucks his head in and rolls forwards. With no resistance Zyon comes crashing down to the mat but although he still has his opponent’s arm in his grasp it isn’t bent at such a painful angle anymore; in fact Stephens is now able to swing his legs back and latch them around Zyon’s head, then pull his opponent down into a headscissors! “TOXXXXXXXXX-IC…” “TOXXXXXXXXX-IC…” The Englishman’s supporters are now starting to make themselves heard again as the Unique Youth finds his head anchored firmly between his opponent’s thighs. Somwhere in the world Bobby Riley rubs his hands in glee at the thought, but Zyon isn’t so happy and coils his legs before trying to kip-up out of it. However Stephens has him held tight, and Zyon just spasms like an epileptic frog. Once more the challenger tries that method of escape, and once more he fails. “Michael Stephens is slowing the match down again here,” Francis notes, “the moment he allowed Zyon to move quicker he had the tables turned on him, so it’s in his interests to wear the challenger down further.” Zyon has clearly decided that he needs to try another approach here, and so he starts to try and manoeuvre his body around to get another angle on it. He manages to end up with the top of his head facing down into the mat, still in the headscissors, with Michael Stephens now in a sitting position and his hands planted on either side of him. From there Zyon starts to push himself up into a headstand position, perhaps looking to fall forwards into a pin or pop backwards and extract his head that way, but Stephens simply leans forward and hammers him in the back with both fists, knocking him back down again! “TOXXXXXXXXX-IC…” “ZY-ON!” However, once Zyon has been knocked back down Michael Stephens suddenly opens his legs (you stop that right now!) and allows Zyon to escape; however, his motivation for this initially surprising act becomes clear as he quickly gets up to his knees and grabs Zyon’s head as the challenger starts to stand, then delivers a snapmare that takes the Unique Youth into a sitting position. Once there, Stephens quickly goes back to a sitting position and swings his legs up to apply a seated double-leg nelson to his opponent. “TOXXXXXXXXX-IC…” “TOXXXXXXXXX-IC…” Once more Stephens looks around at the crowd as they chant his name… but then again, he doesn’t exactly look like he’s appreciating the support. Instead, he seems to be looking for someone in particular as he scans the faces. “Another wear-down hold applied here by the World Champion,” Francis says, “this one more concentrating on Zyon’s neck rather than his midsection.” Zyon appears to be trapped without anywhere to go, his arms held up uselessly and his head bent forwards. However, then Unique Youth is nothing if not a fighter and he starts trying to shuffle himself across the mat towards the ropes again. The cables are considerably further away this time and it doesn’t look likely that he’ll be able to get there, but what else is he going to do? “ZY-ON!” “TOXXXXXXXXX-IC…” “ZY-ON!” However, his efforts come to nothing; without his hands to help him he’s simply sinking further and further into the full nelson and putting more pressure onto his neck. But then another idea occurs to him and he plants his feet firmly on the mat, then starts to bridge up! The back of his neck is only getting more uncomfortable, but the fans are starting to see where he’s going with this and begin cheering louder! “ZY-ON!” “ZY-ON!” “King, I think Zyon’s actually trying to force Michael Stephens back onto his own shoulders here,” Mak Francis says in some interest, “the only question being; will Zyon be able to do it before his neck gives out?” However, at the moment Zyon is on track - the strain is clear on his face, but as he straightens his body out he’s starting to force Michael Stephens back, and the Englishman is getting dangerously close to a pinning predicament! Brian Warner hovers, waiting to see what happens, but the pressure on Stephens’ legs from Zyon’s unorthodox counterattack means that it looks like he can’t unhook his legs even if he wanted to, and he’s slowly rolled backwards… ONE! TWO!! TH- -but in pressing backwards as hard as he can Zyon loses his balance, and Stephens rolls backwards to bring the challenger down in what is effectively a spiked backslide using his legs! ONE! TWO!! TH- -but Zyon kicks out! “ZY-ON!” In kicking out, Zyon ended up more or less on his front. And as he starts to push himself up he sees Michael Stephens in front of him, also on his front, and nothing in the way. ‘YAAAAAARRRRGGGHHHHH!’ The Unique Youth leaps forward, landing on his opponents back and beginning to hammer right hands down onto the back of Mike’s head as the crowd goes wild! Brian Warner tries a count, but it is only through pulling Zyon off that the referee is finally able to disentangle him from his opponent! Zyon doesn’t seem bothered by this however, and the challenger heads for the ropes and steps out to the apron, seemingly waiting for his opponent to get back to his feet. “Zyon seems to have stepped up a few gears here,” Mak Francis says, “and now for the first time he has room to manoeuvre! Michael Stephens has kept him grounded for some time but Zyon looks to be setting up for something aerial now, and this could spell trouble for the World Champion!” Michael Stephens is taking his time getting back to his feet, as indeed most people will when they’ve taken a pasting in the back of the head. However, as he gets back up and looks around there’s a curious sense of deja-vu. So often in the past Stephens had dazed his opponents and then stepped out to the apron to deliver a high-impact, high-flying attack- *CRACK!* -much like the springboard elbow smash that Zyon just pasted him with! “YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “ZY-ON!” “ZY-ON!” The World Champion goes down like he’s been shot, but the fighting spirit is still strong inside the Englishman and he pops back up again almost immediately. Not as quick as Zyon however, as the Unique Youth slips behind his opponent and grabs a reverse facelock, then before Stephens can react he twists and drops him into the Wicked Cutter! *BANG!* Zyon seems to be feeding off the crowd now but he doesn’t waste any time soaking in the applause; instead he gets back up to his feet and points to the nearest turnbuckles before charging straight at them and vaulting upwards, bouncing off the second rope and the top rope. He clips the top rope with his legs on the way down and arcs backwards with the flashy but effective Dusk moonsault, landing right on Stephens’ ribcage! *WHAM!* “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” The impact hurt Zyon’s ribs and back as well and it takes the Unique Youth a moment to roll back onto his opponent for the cover, but the moment he does Brian Warner is there to make the count… ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRR- -but Stephens kicks out! “Half a second away from winning the World Title!” Mak Francis exclaims, “actually, probably less!” Zyon slaps the mat in frustration and grabs Stephens by the head to pull him up to his feet, then delivers a forearm strike. It only rocks the World Champion, but that’s good enough for Zyon and the challenger turns and runs for the turnbuckles again, running straight up them without breaking stride before corkscrewing back off the top… “No Regard!” Mak shouts. *SMACK!* “YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “Denied!” King shouts back as Michael Stephens leaps up at the last moment to dropkick Zyon out of the air again! Zyon lands awkwardly and hard, but his run of offence has had its effect on the World Champion as well, and Stephens isn’t fast to rise either! ‘ONE!’ Brian Warner bellows, stepping in to apply the double count. “King, what a match we’re seeing here,” Mak Francis says, “you can really see how much both these men want the World Title! Michael Stephens has had a good gameplan, but now Zyon’s broken out can he put the champion down, or has the earlier damage been too much? And don’t discount Stephens’ experience; he’s already slapped Zyon down on two high-risk moves!” “Zyon’s a beatable tool,” King repeats, “and Toxxic knows exactly what he’s doing.” ‘TWO!’ Zyon grits his teeth, feeling the pain in his ribs and back, not to mention his neck. But this is his time, and he’s not going to give up now. ‘THREE!’ Michael Stephens lies on the mat, trying to gather his wits. Zyon’s attacks have taken their toll, and he’s wondering if wrestling such a conservative, mat-based game - never his strength - was such a good idea. ‘FOUR!’ But he beat the count ten days ago at 13th Hour. And he’ll be damned if he’s not going to keep getting up now. ‘FI-’ “They’re up!” Mak Francis says as both men come to their feet, gritting their teeth in effort, “and it could come down to who lands the first move!” That looks to be Zyon, as the Unique Youth steps in and delivers a boot to the gut to keep Michael Stephens doubled over before taking a deep breath and pausing a moment, then performing a standing backflip to deliver a Flash Kick to Stephens’ jaw… *whooof* …or he would have done, if Stephens hadn’t inconsiderately swung his upper body to one side and dodged! With breathtaking athleticism Zyon still lands on his feet, albeit with a surprised expression on his face, and wastes no time in charging the World Champion with a clothesline; however, Stephens sidesteps him and snakes one arm up under Zyon’s, then grabs the back of Zyon’s shorts and hoists the Unique Youth off the ground before sitting out and driving his opponent into the mat with a half-nelson facebuster! *BANG!* Stephens rolls Zyon over onto his back and makes the cover as Brian Warner drops to count… ONE! TWO!! TH- -but Zyon kicks out! “YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “ZY-ON!” “TOXXXXXXX-IC…” “ZY-ON!” The crowd seem, if anything, to be more behind the challenger than the champion now, but Stephens isn’t going to let that stop him. He grabs Zyon’s head and pulls his opponent to his feet… but Zyon slaps his hands away and kicks him in the gut again… but Stephens catches it! “ZY-ON!” The Unique Youth doesn’t give his opponent any time to think and instead jumps up, whipping one foot towards the Englishman’s head with an enzuigiri… but Stephens ducks it! “Zyon can’t land a shot at the moment!” Mak says. However, Zyon lands on his one free foot, retaining his balance. Before he can try a mule kick or similar Stephens lets go of Zyon’s captured leg and grabs the Unique Youth by the neck as if sitting him up for a sitout neckbreaker, but he then twists around and drives Zyon’s face into his knee with an adapted Pressure Drop before popping back to his feet, applying a front facelock with his left arm and then sweeping his right arm over and down to send Zyon back down to the mat with the Unfinished Business! *BANG!* “That’ll do it,” King confidently predicts as Stephens rolls Zyon over and makes another cover… ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHRRRRRR- -but Zyon kicks out again! “It would have done if Warner could count at the right speed,” the Gambling Man amends. However, regardless of the referee’s timekeeping abilities, Michael Stephens seems to think that it’s time to put an end to this. He pulls Zyon up again, then places the Unique Youth in a ¾ facelock and runs towards the nearest ringpost. But Zyon’s spent some time wrestling against and, on occasions, tagging with Akira Kaibatsu, and whether it’s called the Sunny In England or the Divine Wind, it’s still the same move. So he takes a step backwards at just the right moment, breaking Stephens’ grip and causing the World Champion to land facedown over his shoulder as he starts the floatover that‘s meant to culminate in a match-winning head trauma. For a moment it looks as if Zyon’s going to stagger and fall but then the challenger turns and starts to run, finally swinging Stephens off his shoulder and to the mat as he dives forward with a massive running powerslam! *BANG!* “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “ZY-ON!” “ZY-ON!” “It was the challenger’s experience that came into play that time,” Mak Francis points out, “and he could be one move away from winning the World Title!” Indeed he could. And, as he gets slowly back to his feet and hears the crowd chanting his name, Zyon knows which move it is. “ZY-ON!” “ZY-ON!” The Unique Youth runs to the nearest ringpost and steps out to the apron, then begins to climb. The combination of facebusters Stephens hit him with a minute ago have dazed him, but not enough to stop a natural high-flyer like Zyon reaching the top rope. He stands tall for a second, arms spread wide as hundreds of camera flashes go off… …and then he leaps into the air. “FIIIINNNNAAALLLLL FLLLLAAAASSSSSSHHHHHHHH!” Mak Francis roars as the arena rises in anticipation… *CRUNCH!* …and watches Zyon come down, back-first on Michael Stephens’ raised knees. “DENIED!” Suicide King yells in response as a massive cheer goes up from the pro-Stephens portion of the crowd, “that’s where flip-flopping gets you!” Zyon almost ricochets off, rolling across the mat and clutching his back in agony. Behind him, Michael Stephens is starting the gruelling process of pulling himself to his feet, but Zyon refuses to be beaten. “ZY-ON!” “ZY-ON!” The chants are still ringing out strongly around the Doomerican Airlines Center, and the Unique Youth makes one last attempt. Gritting his teeth he braces his hands on the mat and pushes, forcing himself up to his feet. “ZY-ON!” “ZY-ON!” The pain as he straightens his back nearly makes him cry out, but he continues rising… and as he reaches a vertical base, Michael Stephens runs past him from behind, grabbing a ¾ facelock as he does so and towing the battered challenger towards the nearest turnbuckles. This time, as the World Champion runs up and vaults back and over, Zyon has no answer. *WHAM!* “YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “SUNNY IN ENGLAND!” Mak Francis yells as the back of Zyon’s skull is driven into the mat, “that’s got to be it!” Michael Stephens has every intention of making that it; Zyon’s body has hardly come to rest after the impact before he’s hooked his opponent’s far leg with his arm and the near leg with his own, then rolled into the cover and stacked as much of his bodyweight as he can onto Zyon’s shoulders. Brian Warner dives in to make the count… ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! …and Zyon kicks out! *DING-DING-DING!* But just too late. “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “Ladies and gentlemen,” Funyon booms as ‘Rookie’ rings out around the Doomerican Airlines Center, “here is your winner and STILL~ SWF World Heavyweight Champion… MIIIIIIIII-CHAAAAAEEEEEEELLLLLLL… STEEEEEEEEEEEEE-PHENS!!” “TOXXXXXXXX-IC…” “TOXXXXXXXX-IC…” Michael Stephens wearily takes the SWF World Title back from Brian Warner, then has his right hand raised in victory. As the cameras pan around the Doomtopian fans, most of whom are on their feet applauding the match they’ve just seen, Stephens joins Warner in checking on the Unique Youth. “What a contest!” Mak Francis says, impressed despite himself. “Both men gave it their all, and the outcome was in the balance right up until the end; I’ve got to say King, I think on another day Zyon could have taken this.” “Well yeah, if that day’s the one where Toxxic forgets to turn up,” King sniffs. “I mean sure, he made the kid look good, but if he’d ever been in any real trouble he’d have just broken his neck.” “Damnit King, when are you going to stop that!?” Mak Francis seethes, “Michael Stephens was taken to the very limit by Zyon here tonight! He had to use every advantage of experience he had, and Zyon still nearly pulled it off! Comments like that aren’t only disrespectful to Stephens and the changes he’s made in his attitude, but also to the fact that Zyon came within a hair’s breadth of taking the World Title!” “Does this look like a face that cares?” In the ring, Michael Stephens is helping Zyon up from the canvas. The younger man’s face displays bitter, bitter disappointment - understandably. However, as he reaches his feet Stephens takes his right hand and raises it into the air with his left, pointing at Zyon with the hand that holds the World Title and inviting the crowd to applaud the Unique Youth! “YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “ZY-ON!” “ZY-ON!” As the massed SWF fans chant his name in respect and approval of his efforts, Zyon’s disappoint slowly seems to fade. Michael Stephens offers his hand and after a second’s hesitation Zyon clasps it. The crowd let out a further cheer, and lip-readers might see Stephens wishing his opponent better luck next time… and, to judge by his face, meaning it sincerely. “Fans, this has been an explosive edition of Lockdown,” Mak Francis says, “and don’t forget to tune in for Smarkdown on Monday which promises to be just as exciting!” “And God knows where we’ll be,” Suicide King mutters resignedly. In the ring, Zyon applauds the crowd before turning and heading towards the ropes; meanwhile, Michael Stephens climbs to the second buckle and spreads his arms with the World Title in his grasp as camera flashes go off…

“Hi, this is Emma Dumas, bringing you the biggest and best SWF news! Tonight, I’m backstage with World Champion Michael Stephens; Michael, any comments before your gargantuan title defence against Zyon later tonight!?” “Yeah,” the Englishman says, eyeing the new arrival uncertainly, “what the hell happened to Ben Hardy?” “Someone saw him with a takeout bag from Subway!” the overenthusiastic interviewer explains. “Oops,” Stephens grimaces. “But yes, to answer your question, I’d like to set a few things straight before I take Zyon on tonight. You see, I feel we got off onto slightly the wrong foot on Aftershoxxx. Zyon seems to think that he hasn’t been treated all that fairly in the SWF, and I can see where he’s coming from; he’s had at least two non-title wins over champions recently, and I know he had a series of matches against Jay Hawke at the end of last year where he nearly got the International Title as well. He was probably still a little bitter over losing the Cruiserweight Title to Mike Cross, and I can understand that too. Hell,” the World Champion grins ruefully, “I’ve got bitter over title losses before, just ask the locker room. So all in all I probably shouldn’t have made such a big deal about what he decided to call me, because he probably wasn’t in that receptive a mindset.” The World Champion turns away from Dumas to look into the camera, and begins to address his challenger directly. “Zyon, I don’t want tonight to be about the words we exchanged on Aftershoxxx. It doesn’t need to be. Yeah, I do question some of the things you’ve done, but then I question some of the things I’ve done as well. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t come out there thinking you’ve got to prove yourself, because you do. A World Title match is a proving ground for anyone, no matter how many times you’ve been there. I’ve been in more of them than anyone else on the roster except maybe Flesher, and I’m not sure about that. It doesn’t mean that I haven’t got to prove myself every time I step into the ring with this belt on the line, because each new match is a new chance to lose it.” “Zyon, I respect who you are and I respect what you’ve done,” Stephens says. “You’ve been bubbling under the surface of the main event for long enough, and it sounds like it’s time for you to step up. I believe you can do it, I honestly do. But what you need to understand is that even though I believe you can do it, I believe that I can do it as well, and I’ll be doing everything I can to make sure I do. I’m not going to underestimate you; make sure you do the same for me sunshine, because I’ve made a career out of proving people wrong. If we both go into this match with our eyes open and willing to give it our all, we should be able to give the fans what they want to see… one bloody good match.” “Can I just ask you your opinion on the words Tom Flesher had for you and Mike Cross on Aftershoxxx!?” Emma Dumas asks, and the World Champion snorts. “Yeah, sure. Tom, you’re a great wrestler. A great wrestler. On the other hand you’ve never beaten me one-on-one, and you’re far too fond of the sound of your own voice. So rather than talking about what you’re going to do, try actually doing it sunshine instead of jumping people like Grendel to try and make a point. You want the Cruiserweight belt? Go take it from Cross. You want the World Title? Well, if I’m still holding it after tonight, I’ve got a challenge for you.” Stephens leans closer to the camera, his steel-grey eyes boring into the lens through the strands of black hair that hang over his face. “Come and have a go… if you think yer ‘ard enough.”

SWF Lockdown abruptly returns from commercial break with James Matheson and Charlie “Grappler” Matthews entering the ring, the strains of Muddy Waters’ “Mannish Boy” dying down as the Doomtopian crowd lets the pair know exactly how they feel about them. “BOOOOOOOOOORT!” “BOOOOOOOOORT!” Most conspicuous, though, is the fact that Matthews has a comical neck brace supporting his head and, flexing those acting muscles, maintaining various pained expressions on his face. Matheson, meanwhile, grabs a microphone. “What happened at Thirteenth Hour,” Matheson begins, before he has to stop due to an overwhelming chant of “SWOOOOORDFISH” “SWOOOOOOOOORDFISH” “…what happened at Thirteenth Hour was a damn tragedy! And no, I’m not talking about the result of the tag team match between the truly Dead Precedents and my boys, Tommy and Grap. No, I’m talking about our opponents’ underhanded tactics, and their clear exploitation of the former neck injury of Charlie Matthews! The man has a very fragile neck, and any further punishment could have resulted in serious injury, even paralysis!” “Oh, please,” Mak states, rolling his eyes. “Say, Mak, how’d your morning walk go today?” “Go to hell, King.” “So with that being said,” Matheson pulls a folded piece of paper out of his chest pocket, “I went to Joseph Peters and first thanked him for this opportunity for the International Championship tonight. However, since the odds are against Grappler and his neck injury, I requested one simple stipulation to even things out. The champion, Aecas, must have one arm tied behind his back for as long as Matthews has this neck brace!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOORT!” Suddenly, the lights go out, and a loud *BONG* is heard, triggering an eruption of random cheers. “Are you scared?” “…he’s here.” Amon Amarth’s “Death in Fire” kicks in and the International Champion appears, igniting another roar from the crowd. He lifts his staff up and spits some disgustingly vicious blood mist into the air. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Funyon begins, “the following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the S-W-F International Championship! Introducing first, from Shrewsbury, England, weighing in at three-hundred and fifteen pounds, he is the International Champion, AAAAAAAAAAECASSSSSSS!” Aecas continues to the ring, entering through the ropes and only several feet away from Charlie Matthews. “And the challenger, from Kansas City, Missouri, weighing in at three-hundred and six pounds, CHAAAAARLIE ‘GRAPPLER’ MAAAAATTHEWS!” Conveniently enough, James Matheson produces a length of rope from his mysterious briefcase at ringside, and hands it to referee Skip Mulligan. Aecas scowls, but oddly enough, holds his left arm out and beckons Mulligan to approach him. “All things considered,” King remarks, “this is brilliant strategy on behalf of Matthews. After all, Aecas will be hard-pressed to escape any restholds with just one hand.” “All things considered,” Mak retorts, “this is one-hundred percent bullshit. I’m not the biggest Grappler fan in the world by a longshot, but he’s still rapidly losing any respect I have for him tonight.” As referee Mulligan cinches the rope around Aecas’ wrist and body, he procures the International Championship and holds it up for all Doomtopians to see, before handing it to the timekeeper and calling for the bell! *DING DING DING* “These two are no strangers to one another,” Mak begins, “as they locked horns many a time in the old SJL.” “In fact, Matthews got the better of Aecas on every single occasion. That’s an important little tidbit that you seem to have left out, Francis.” “I was getting to it. Nevertheless, Aecas has shown a new fire, a new fighting spirit since returning, and I think it might be curtains for Matthews tonight.” The two heavyweights circle one another, Matthews gingerly stepping and Aecas, oddly enough, still with a malicious grin painted on his face. Surprisingly, the challenger charges at Aecas, but the Black Angel is able to pivot around to his free arm and nail Grappler right in the jaw with a back elbow! Charlie stumbles backwards, and Aecas unleashes, firing off right forearm after right forearm, forcing Matthews all the way back into the corner! The crowd erupts at the sight of the debatably-injured wrestler getting his ass handed to him, while Aecas is absolutely unrelenting in his firing of the forearms. Finally, in a little touch of brilliance and reading of the fine-print in Joseph Peters’ contract, he reaches towards Matthews’ neck and rips the neck brace off, throwing it into the crowd! With Grappler and Matheson in shock, and Matthews leaning against the ropes, Aecas backs up and then charges, extending his leg into the air and slamming his boot into the face of Charlie with a huge Yakuza Kick that nearly takes his head off and sends him over the top rope, all the way down to the floor! “Get this bloody rope off of me!” Aecas shouts to Skip Mulligan, who obliges. “What the hell was that?!” King shouts, “Aecas is unnecessarily assaulting an injured man, and now he’s breaking the rules of the match!” “King, as Peters’ contract said, the handicap only exists when both men have it. Now that Matthews’ neck brace is off, Aecas doesn’t need to have his hand tied behind his back anymore!” “Fuckin’ eh,” King sighs, “I’m not too sure what Peters was going for, then.” Aecas, who now has both hands free, riles up the crowd and awaits Matthews’ reentry into the ring which, like everything he does, is quite slow. Once he finally does enter between the middle and top ropes, Aecas stalks the Grappler, only to have the old-school heavyweight use the time-tested thumb to the eye to slow his opponents’ momentum. With Aecas suitably stunned, Charlie Matthews locks his hands together and brings down a hard double-axe handle across the upper back of the champion, and follows this with—surprise!—a front facelock, dropping down to a knee with the hold locked in. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOORT!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOORT!” “Charlie Matthews is taking a page out of his partner Tom Flesher’s playbook with that front facelock,” Francis observes, “and it proved effective in its stopping the momentum of the International Champion.” “Well, if there’s one wrestler you’re going to mimic, it should always be Tom Flesher. And of course, if there’s one wrestler in the SWF who can mimic the Superior One’s moves, it’d be Charlie Matthews. I’m telling you, they’re a dream team.” However, being so fresh in the match, Aecas is able to power back up to a vertical base, before arching backwards and sending all three-hundred pounds of Charlie Matthews over his head and onto his back with a release northern lights suplex! Both men scramble to their feet at the same time, charge at one another… *SMACK!* …and knock heads. Oops. The force and momentum of the collision sends both men several feet backwards, as they nurse their heads after the botched spot. Still, after the recovery, they charge again, and this time Grappler is able to lift his right knee up, catching Aecas right in the gut. With the champion doubled over, Matthews grabs him around the waist and lifts him vertically into the air, before dropping him down crotch-first across his outstretched knee with an inverted atomic drop. Aecas clutches the injured part or parts in pain, backing up against the ropes. Seeing this, Matthews charges, arm outstretched, and uses his own momentum to catch Aecas under the jaw and send both men tumbling down to the floor! “Cactus clothesline by Charlie Matthews,” Mak calls, “and now the validity of that so-called neck injury drops further into question. First, why would he perform such a high-risk move, and second, why would you want things to spill the outside of the ring, where the chances of actual wrestling occurring are slim-to-none?” “I think you’re missing the point, Francis,” King replies, “as this is a testament to the intestinal fortitude of Charlie Matthews. He does indeed have a serious, recurring neck injury, but he’s fighting through it, and valiantly!” Both wrestlers are notably slower to their feet, but, unsurprisingly after the tumble, Matthews is up first, and just to piss his opponent off, he goes old school again and rakes his fingernails across the back of Aecas! With the champion in sheer pain and agony, Grappler clubs him from behind with the Russian sickle, sending him down to his knees in front of the ring steps. Taking a page out of his old rival John Duran’s playbook, Matthews backs up a few paces and then runs full-speed ahead, driving his knee into the back of Aecas’ head, subsequently slamming his face into the ring steps! *BAM!* “The two men hated each other,” Francis recalls, “but I think John Duran would have applauded Grappler’s use of that knee-ring step sandwich.” “See, Francis?” King snaps, “I told you Matthews had a purpose in going outside of the ring. His plan is working perfectly.” In full control, the challenger grabs Aecas by the hair and rolls him back into the ring, following in and pouncing on top with a lateral press, as Skip Mulligan counts. ONE! TWO! Shoulder up! The crowd roars in approval as Aecas powers out of the pin attempt. However, just like in any good Grappler match, Charlie Matthews decides to go for the resthold. He turns Aecas onto his stomach and stands over his back, squatting down and wrenching the Black Angel’s head up with a devastating camel clutch! “BOOOOOOOOOORT!” “BOOOOOOOOORT!” Matthews cinches in the hold and shows no signs of letting up, while Matheson cheers on goofily from ringside. The Doomtopia fans, meanwhile, shift their chanting to something incomprehensible, but with “Aecas” at the end, so we can only assume they’re providing moral support for the champion. “Charlie knows that Aecas is in a hell of a lot better shape than he is,” King starts, “so it’s wise to wear down that body and make it easier to pin or force to submit.” “I might be the one submitting if this camel clutch goes any longer,” Mak sighs. As if on cue with Mak’s complaint, Aecas begins to fight the power, so to speak, as he gets to his knees. Showing tremendous strength and shocking Matthews, Matheson, and all of the Doomtopians in attendance, Aecas, in one smooth motion, powers up to his feet with Grappler still on his back and kicks his legs, falling backwards and squashing Matthews under his three-hundred and fifteen pound frame! Aecas rolls over and climbs up to a vertical base, just in time to see a charging Matthews, who attempts to stop Aecas’ momentum. As it turns out, he’s the one who’s stopped, as the Black Angel extends his arm out and floors Grappler with a clothesline! Matthews rises to his feet…and eats another! The Doomtopians explode as Aecas brings Matthews to his feet and traps him in a front facelock, before hoisting him into the air and, just as quickly, dropping him down onto his head and neck with an evenflow brainbuster! “SMOOOOOOOOORGASBOARD!” Aecas hooks a leg on the cover of Matthews and Skip Mulligan counts the pin. ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! James Matheson recovers from his near heart attack at ringside, while Aecas brings Matthews up and backs him into the nearest turnbuckle. He fires off several forearm shots, before backing up and extending his leg, using his boot to choke the challenger, much to the approval of the crowd! “That’s the smartest thing for Aecas to do,” Mak points out, “especially after softening up Matthews with that beautiful brainbuster. If Aecas can stay on that neck, Grappler won’t last much longer.” “It’s always weird hearing you of all people talking about that, Francis.” After the necessary five-count from the referee, Aecas relinquishes the boot choke and backs away, but out of the corner of his eye he sees James Matheson goading him on the ring apron. Aecas charges at the Herpes-like annoyance, but Matheson smartly drops down to the floor to avoid any contact. Aecas, of course, has a few choice words for him, but these choice words allow Matthews to crawl up behind the Black Angel and club him where it hurts most! *CHING!* As referee Skip Mulligan finishes his admonishment of Matheson, Charlie Matthews shoves the doubled-over Aecas hard between the second and top ropes and all the way down to the arena floor! Grappler follows him out, and with both men on the outside, Skip Mulligan begins his obligatory ten-count. Matthews, being the gentleman that he is, helps Aecas up to his feet, but is unceremoniously met with a huge hand clasped around his throat! The crowd roars as Aecas prepares to chokeslam the living daylights out of the challenger, but Matthews has the move scouted and fires a hard back elbow to break the hold. As Aecas stumbles, Grappler pushes him back against the guardrail and executes his own blatant choke! To make the fighting on the outside just a little cleaner, Mulligan exits the ring and admonishes Matthews, who finally listens to him and relinquishes the hold. “Charlie Matthews knows that he can’t win the title on the outside of the ring,” Mak helpfully notes, “but that choke sure will expedite the process.” “Yeah, and by the way he’s wrestling, it doesn’t look like Grap is completely focused on winning the title. I think he just wants to administer as much punishment as possible on Aecas. Hence the outside brawling.” As Mulligan reenters the ring to begin counting again, Charlie Matthews pulls back on the protective mats surrounding the ring, revealing the hot, hard concrete below (they’re by a freakin’ volcano, so it wouldn’t be cold and hard). With the blessing of James Matheson and the registering of one-count from Mulligan, Matthews brings Aecas down into a standing headscissors and raises his hands into the air, signaling for a powerbomb! He reaches down to pick Aecas up… REJECTED! The Black Angel easily stands up, sending Matthews over his head and onto said concrete with a biiiig back body drop! “THREEEEE!” Skip Mulligan is actually giving the wrestlers the benefit of the doubt with a slow count, as the fans are clearly enjoying the up-close punishment going on outside of the ring. Aecas now runs his thumb across his throat, signaling that it just might be payback time for the Old School heavyweight. Indeed, he brings Matthews up, but the Grappler backs off, calling the attention of Skip Mulligan and saying that he needs immediate medical attention. That distraction is all that’s needed. *BAM!!* “Damn it!” Francis shouts, “James Matheson just clobbered Aecas from behind with that briefcase! Come on, Mulligan!” “I think Matthews’ condition is a little more important than that little altercation between friends, Francis.” With the Black Angel doubled over, and Mulligan administering a “FIVE!”, Charlie Matthews quickly underhooks the arms of Aecas and falls backwards, planting him head-first onto the concrete with a double-arm DDT! *THUD!* “Did you hear that?!” King rhetorically asks, “Matthews just plastered Aecas into the concrete with that DDT! I love this guy!” Grappler craftily slides back into the ring upon Mulligan’s “SIX!” clearly deciding to take the low-road to victory tonight. “SEVEN!” “Well, I guess you were right, King,” Mak concedes, “because it looks like Matthews is going to let Aecas get counted out after that sick DDT!” But Aecas is up! The crowd roars as the International Champion gets to his knees, showing that it’ll take a hell of a lot more to take him down. He’s up to a standing base! “EIGHT!” But inside of the ring, Matthews drops down to his knees clutching his neck and calls Mulligan over, claiming a severe attack on the neurons in his central nervous system. While Skip again questions the validity of such dubious claims (and how smart is this guy, anyway), Matheson again backs up, and levels Aecas in the back of the head with the briefcase! *BAM!* “BOOOOOOOOOOOOORT!” Aecas drops down again, Matthews assures Mulligan that he’ll make it, and the referee turns to count again. “NINE!” “C’mon, Aecas! Damn it!” Mak cries, “don’t let this match end now! Aecas was just getting warmed up before that rat had to interfere and make his presence felt. Grappler, I thought you were a better wrestler than that!” Aecas is up to his knees, and the crowd roars the valor and fighting spirit of the Black Angel- “TEN!” -but it’s too late. *DING DING DING* Boos and Borts rain down upon Matthews as “Mannish Boy” kicks in, with James Matheson sliding into the ring to celebrate with his client. Grappler even sports a smile, raising his hands into the air as if he actually won the title. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Funyon begins, “the winner of the contest, as a result of a count-out, is CHAAAAAAARLIE ‘GRAPPLER’ MAAAAATTHEWS!” The two men unwisely continue to celebrate in the ring, as unbeknownst to them, Aecas slides back into the ring. The crowd roars, and the music abruptly stops, which I guess is enough of a hint. Matthews turns around… *CRACK!* …and gets floored with a huge Yakuza Kick by the champion! Matheson tries to scurry away, but gets grabbed by the head, and the crowd again explodes, waiting to see James Matheson get his! And get his he does, as Aecas places Matheson in a standing headscissors, before signaling to the crowd with a thumbs-down sign. He then proceeds to hoist Matheson up into the air and SLAM him onto the canvas with an enormous powerbomb! “SMOOOOOOOOORGASBOARD!” “Thank God!” Mak swears, “James Matheson got what was coming to him after his copious amount of interference in that match! You can tell Aecas wanted to beat Matthews fair and square, and what happened tonight was far from that.” “Graps did what he had to,” King corrects, “or, more specifically, what he wanted to do. He showed Aecas that he was a viable threat, and that he doesn’t need the International Title to prove that.” “Death in Fire” kicks in again as Matthews, hurting on the outside, drags an unconscious Matheson out of the ring and carries him, fireman-style, to the back. Aecas is presented with his International Championship, which he holds high to the cheering Doomtopians as SWF Lockdown shows a graphic for the hot and upcoming Michael Stephens vs. Zyon World Championship match.

A video auto-tracks and then shows Joseph Peters’ door. It opens and the camera moves past the secretary, opening the door to Peters’ office. The head cheese looks up at the cameraman, about to say something as an arm comes into view, offering Joseph an envelope. He takes the envelope and opens it, reading aloud. “Mr. Peters. The Hardcore Gamers’ belt is mine, I’m not giving it up. I’m sure an Ultraviolent Championship will produce more ratings. Spike Jenkins almost killed Rashelle, and I can’t work for a man who would manipulate people at the expense of a human life.” Joseph guffaws, then begins ranting as the picture blacks out. The camera flickers back to life, once again auto-tracking. Another door opens, marked ‘Stephens’. On the side of the locker room with the bench, two bags are left alone. One obviously Amy’s and one obviously Mike’s. The arm outstretches again, this time with a taped note … the cameraman places it on Amy’s bag. “Amy, keep in touch. I have someone to take care of. I’m here if you need me. Stay out of trouble.” The view pans out a bit and the shot shifts to Mike’s bag. The cameraman’s hand stretches out and sticks a note on his bag. “Mike, I’m sorry I can’t stick around. I was looking forward to the second Revolution. I’m here if you need me. Take care, friend.” The camera blacks out.