chirs3

It should be in there, Landon. The one with Megan, right? I thought I posted it... EDIT: I ams stupid. One second, Landon, I'll get it in there.

The formatting for TLC was all Z's fault. You'll notice it was the only recap that did not feature the hilarious antics of Sockston Hardcastle and Ben Hardy's brush with death.

It's not Aftershox. It's AftershoXxXxxxXxXXXXXxxXxxXX. Get it right.

The Smartmark's Wrestling Federation Presents... SWF SMARKDOWN LIVE, MONDAY, MARCH 20th, FROM THE SOLD OUT ASTRODOME IN HOUSTON, TEXAS! (7:00pm PST, 10:00pm EST; check local listings) -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Tonight, the SWF's Hell or High Water tour marches East, to the Astrodome! The SWF is short one commentator! In an effort to find the perfect replacement for Longdogger Pete, the SWF will be having trial runs for a number of different potential candidates. Tonight, the Suicide King will be joined by none other than AXIS~! (I'll be honest, guys - I'm pretty much asleep at the keyboard right now. First person to come up with a good description for Axis gets a cookie.) Unfortunately, many of our champions are still recovering from injuries, which I'm sure is why they did not make any appearances on AftershoxxXxXxxxX. Hint hint. In any event, certain title matches will have to be held off until Storm, at least - Spike vs. Akira and Jay Hawke vs. Wildchild, specifically. So what's a fed to do in the mean time? HOUSE RULES, THAT'S WHAT. And in order to accomodate tonight's House Rules match, the stadium will be set up as if this were a baseball game! The wrestling ring will be in the middle of the field, right over the pitchers mound! Wrestlers will enter from the dugouts! Entrance music will be hard to hear and very echo-y! Someone will play cheesy tunes on an organ! Doodlee-doo dee-doo! CHARGE! -=-=-=-=- The Main Event Wildchild © vs. Kevin Coyote (non-title) ---> Two men who scored high-profile wins at From the Fire battle it out in the Main Event! Kevin Coyote, having now rid the fed of Longdogger Pete, fixes his gaze upward. His crack at the International Champion isn't for the title this time, but if he managed to pull out the upset... well... we'll just have to see. Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 5000 Send to: chirs3 -=-=-=-=- Landon Maddix vs. Michael Cross © ---> Michael Cross has been cleared to wrestle as far as regular singles competition goes, but he still has not been deemed fit enough to cash in his shot against Bruce. So tonight, the new tag champion goes one on one with the now-former tag champion, Landon Maddix! Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 4750 Send to: janusd -=-=-=-=- Ultraviolent Championship Match - House Rules Scoreboard Scuffle Bruce Blank © vs. Arch Griffon ---> The gauntlet has been thrown down. After Michael Cross was barred from competing on AftershoxXXXxXXxX, Bruce is just itching for a fight, and has welcomed all comers with a shot at his title. The first man to step up - Arch Griffon. Tonight also marks the return of the House Rules match. Now when you think of the "house" in question, you probably think of baseball. But we couldn't exactly have Bruce and Arch play a game of baseball, now could we? ... actually, come to think of it... No, we'll save that for later. Instead, the SWF's overpaid and underworked House Rules committee, over the course of digging up Astrodome factoids, I came across two veeeery interesting ones... 1 - The stadium's first scoreboard was the world's largest. It was 474-feet long, weighed 300 tons and cost $2 million. It was dismantled in 1988 to make room for additional 10,000 seats. 2 - On April 28, 1965, Mets broadcaster Lindsey Nelson worked a game from a gondola suspended from the apex of the dome directly above second base. A plus B equals... Rules: The original Astrodome scoreboard, all 474 feet of it, has been pieced back together in its original, working form. For the purposes of this match, it will be suspended approximately 25 feet above the outfield, facing up. It will be running at the time of the match, with light displays, etcetera. The match will be fought under Scaffold Match rules - toss your opponent off to win. Word Limit: 4750 Send to: Evolution -=-=-=-=- Jimmy the Doom and Insane Luchadore vs. Sean Davis and JJ Johnson ---> Calvinball winners vs. Calvinball not-quite-winners. FIGHT! Rules: Standard Tag Team Match Word Limit: 4750 Send to: Secret Agent -=-=-=-=- Cruiserweight Exhibition Match Ghost Machine 2.0 vs. "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins ---> With Akira Kaibatsu being groun-... uh... being injured at From the Fire... yeah, that's it... the Cruiserweight Championship Match between he and Spike will not happen on this show. Instead, Spike will face the man who gets a shot at the winner of that match, Ghost Machine 2.0! Rules: Standard, with Cruiserweight addenda - outside count goes to 20, no tossing opponents over the top rope. Word Limit: 4500 Send to: Justice -=-=-=-=- We're Very Sorry We Forgot To Book You At From The Fire Match One-Weapon Rules The Crimson Skull vs. David Cross ---> So, we made a bit of a snafu, and forgot to book Skull. We are shamed. To make up for it, the Crimson Skull will open this extra special show, and with an advantageous stipulation no less! Rules: The Crimson Skull is allowed to bring one (1) weapon to the ring with him. It may be anything he chooses. For this match, that weapon is completely and totally legal. All other standard singles match rules apply. Word Limit: 4000 Send to: realitycheck -=-=-=-=- Opening Promo: Wes mu'fuckin Davenport, mu'fuckas! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- (Send all promos, marked matches, etc. to chirs3...) -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Again, sorry for the delay. We had all sorts of yummy plans for this card, but a series of unfortunate events sort of derailed them. We hope to resolve all of this by Storm. Word limits trimmed to accomodate the delay. Still, I think it turned out OK.

”Ladies and gentlemen the following mach is an Ultraviolent title match” Funyon starts out. ”I walk a lonely road The only one that I have ever known” Bruce’s new music doesn’t immediately draw a hostile reaction as the fans have yet to associate “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” with Bruce Blank but the moment the 6’7’’ monster steps through the curtains with the Ultraviolent title around his waist they make it immediately obvious how they feel about him. WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! ”Don't know where it goes But it's home to me and I walk alone” If he’s phased by the hostile reaction Bruce doesn’t show it instead he just holds up his newly acquired “Eliminator” (a 2 by 4 with 30-40 nails through the “head” of it) high up in the air as he walks towards the ring. ”I walk this empty street On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams” “Coming to the ring from Mobile, Alabama – weighting in at 295 pounds on the 195th day of his Ultraviolent title reign this is the self professed “King of Pain” BRUCEEEEEEEEEEE BLANK!!!” BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Dreams Broken: 12 ”Where the city sleeps and I’m the only one and I walk alone” Bruce steps over the top rope into the ring where he cockily leans back against the corner with the Eliminator draped over his shoulder. “And his opponent” Funyon starts – but that’s all he says as Joseph Peters makes his way from backstage towards the ring. “I’m sorry but there is a slight problem with this match” Peters says as he gets up on the apron (yes he brought his own microphone, it’s a perk) Bruce looks at Peters and wonders what the hell the little man is on about. “We have a problem Bruce. You see Michael Cross took quite a beating at From the Fire, coupled with the heinous attack from Kevin Coyote on Lockdown and well… “ Peters kinda doesn’t know exactly how to say thing. “Spill it Peters” Bruce demands. “Mr. Cross insisted that he would be here tonight and that he would work through the pain just to get his opportunity against you Bruce” Peters says Bruce looks rather pissed off as he can see where this is going. “The doctors have just informed me that they cannot give him clearance to compete tonight. He will need a little more time to recuperate before they will let him back in the ring again. So Bruce, there will be no title match tonight – sorry but that’s how it is” Peters steps down off the apron after delivering the news to Bruce Blank, but Bruce isn’t one to just take this lying down. He grabs the microphone out of Funyon’s hand as he looks like he’s got something to say. “So that’s it?” Bruce asks. The question makes Peters stop half way down the aisle and turn around. “That’s it? “Sorry Bruce go to the back”?? That’s all you’ve got for me?” Bruce says angrily “What do you want me to do? He’s not medically cleared and there is no way the SWF or its backers can take that kind of risk just for an Ultraviolent title match, it’s just not going to happen” Peters explains once again as if Bruce didn’t get the message the first time. “Heh! The little weasel is probably just hiding somewhere shaking in his boots” Bruce says drawing a loud round of boos from the audience. Not that that deters him at all. “This is what I get? That’s it? I come out here for the THIRD SHOW IN A ROW ready to defend my title and prove once again that no one can do what I do and I get some song and dance about medical clearance and injuries and what not? Listen pal I get injured all the time! In fact I came here tonight still taped up from the match with the Renegade but I’m here, I’m ready to go!!” Bruce spits out as he gets angrier and angrier. Joseph Peters wisely just keeps quiet as Bruce rants on. “I get no damn respect in this place! NO DAMN RESPECT!” Bruce yells out “Look at me – LOOK AT ME PETERS!! If you ever dismiss me as “Just the Ultraviolent champion” I will knock you on your ass.” Peters looks at a very agitated and angry Bruce who’s figuratively foaming at the mouth. “I’m not “just” any-damn-thing!! I’m the second longest champion this place has ever seen – I’m the busiest damn champion this place has ever seen to boot! None of these supposed greats have been able to keep the schedule I’ve kept!! 12 times, TWELEVE TIMES I’ve been successful in Ultraviolent title matches – There isn’t a champion alive that could match my pace!” Bruce asks not really expecting an answer. Bruce points at Peters with the Eliminator to make sure that he’s listening and that everyone else in the back is listening to what he has to say. “In my short time in this federation I’ve ended undefeated streaks, I’ve PINNED the longest reigning cruiserweight champion ever hell I’ve pinned the current Cruiserweight champion! I’ve pinned the longest reigning champion EVER right in the middle of the ring for a 1-2-3 damn it! I’ve beaten former tag-team champions, supposedly undefeated Japanese monsters and even a former World Heavyweight Champion!! And what do I get?” . . . “No damn respect! Not for me, not for my title, not for MY division!!” Bruce says as he taps the Ultraviolent title around his waist “I took a dying division and lit it ablaze! I AM THIS TITLE!” “No doubt your accomplishments are impressive Bruce, especially considering that you haven’t been here that long” Peters admits. “My past accomplishments will pale in comparison to my future Peters. Two shows in a row I’ve successfully defended my title – I was prepared to make it three in a row without any problems.” Bruce brags “Bruce, pal – three shows in a row would have been an almost impossible task for anyone” Peters says “You think so? You really think that little of me? Let me tell you something little man – in my division I’M UNBEATABLE!! I’ve lost in regular matches sure, tag matches and what not, but when it comes to the Ultraviolent division I have yet to be surpassed and I’ll prove it to you! You go through your little files and you drag out a challenger for EACH AND EVERY SHOW UNTIL BATTLEGROUND!! And I will knock them off one at a time” “Whoa, whoa, whoa!!” Peters says shocked at Bruce’s boldness “Did you say every show? That’s (Peters counts on his fingers) 7 shows in a row?” “Damn right – I’m throwing down a challenge: it’s real simple SWF alls you got to do is Beat the Champ! With that Bruce throws the microphone down on the canvas and leaves the ring, he’s laid out the “Beat the Champ challenge” now it’s up to the SWF if anyone will take it. *Fade Out*

"-riously, Pat, I can't feel my legs... I think I need a doctor..." "Welcome back to Aftershocks!" Sexton Hardcastle announces, proud to be taking the spotlight. "It's shox. SHOX. With an X." "That's what I said! Aftershocks!" "... room... spinning..." ... "So anyways," Sexton says, as a screen drops down behind him showing the promo shot for Magnifico/Davenport, "From the Fire's main event had these two guys. And... ... and, uh... ... they... fought... each other... How am I doing, Pat? Why are you-" The SWF is experiencing some technical difficulties... please stand by... The SWF is experiencing some technical difficulties... please stand by... The SWF is experiencing some technical difficulties... please stand by... The SWF is experiencing some technical difficulties... please-" We're back in the Aftershoxx studio, where a crudely assembled sock puppet fills the screen. "Hi everybody! I'm SOCKston Hardcas-" The SWF is experiencing some technical difficulties... please stand by... The SWF is experiencing some technical difficulties... please stand by... The SWF is experiencing some technical difficulties... please stand-" A cardboard cutout of Ben Hardy now takes the stage, as we hear Sexton shouting the background "No! Not the men in the white coats! I don't want to go back the-" ... ... ... "Er... uh... SO!" someone shouts from offscreen, in their best Ben Hardy voice, "the From the Fire main event saw El Luchadore Magnifico, the unstoppable World Champion, taking on a challenger who some said was a fluke, Wes Davenport! How did it all turn out? Let's watch!" -=-=- So at first, they like... fought... and stuff... And, like, Wes was doing pretty good, I think... I don't remember too well, I was drinking a lot that night... But Magnifico's awesome and all, so you know, he did some cool stuff too... But then, Davenport did this thing here... -=-=- "Well there you have it," Hardy's carboard cutout 'says' as we return to the studio. "Wes Davenport went into From the Fire without a chance in hell, and he walked out the SWF World Heavyweight Champion... ... yeah... ... that's pretty cool... ... ok then."

"Welcome back to Aftershoxx. My name is Ben Hardy, and I'm dying from internal injuries." "And I helped!" "..." "..." "... Up next, let's take a look at one of the most heated matches to take place at From the Fire - Kevin Coyote vs. Longdogger Pete. Estranged father and son would battle it out in a streetfight, each one putting their career on the line in order to put the other down for good." -=-=-=- In the beginning, it seemed like Londogger's ring rust might have been too much to overcome, but after a bumpy start, Pete showed us he can still bring it when he needs to... This match is being fought under Street Fight rules - a fact which Kevin Coyote attempted to take advantage of early on... The action went back and forth, and to everyone's amazement, Longdogger Pete was holding his own... until some well timed interference showed up.... Ben Hardy, still buried but making the best of it with a bottle of Pepsi Max and a Crazy Straw, leads us back in. "The good news is Longdogger Pete is recovering. The bad news is, his contract has been terminated. For the next month, the SWF will be testing new commentators, and we'll be letting you, the viewers, vote on his replacement! Don't go anywhere - coming up, we'll be hearing from more From the Fire winners and losers, and Bruce Blank defends his Ultraviolent Championship!"

“Hollywood” Spike Jenkins was mere inches from the SWF World Tag Team Titles. “The Unique Youth” Zyon was mere inches from the SWF World Tag Team Titles. And yet, neither of them was able to get them. And whom do they blame? Each other, of course. “YOU WERE RIGHT THERE!” shouts the irate Spike Jenkins, “WHY DIDN’T YOU PUSH CROSS OFF THE LADDER?” “YOU WERE RIGHT THERE!” Zyon shouts back, “WHY DIDN’T YOU GET THE TAG TITLES BEFORE AKIRA GOT TO YOU?” Spike Jenkins turns his back on Zyon and paces around the room. His ribs wrapped in white tape and a bandage over his forehead, obviously very frustrated with the whole situation. “You said before From the Fire that we were going to make it work and win those titles! You told me we would walk out of there with gold! And you BLEW IT!” “You had your opportunity, Spike!” screams Zyon, “Don’t fucking blame me because you couldn’t get the job done!” “ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS PUSH THE LADDER OVER!” “WITH WHAT?” Yells the Unique Youth, his ribs taped up as well and a bandage over his shoulder, “I couldn’t even walk!” “IT WAS RIGHT THERE, GOD DAMN IT!” Spike, turning red in the face, grabs a table by its edges and flips it over onto the floor. Zyon, still angry but taken back by this, looks on as his “best friend” charges out of the locker room, storming down the hallway.

Smartmarks Wrestling Federation cameras pan to the back to see Ben Hardy standing excitedly next to the new Tag Team Champions, the Asia Underground, as usual, accompanied by Mr. Kobe. Mike Cross, standing to Kobe’s right leans on a crutch, wearing stylish, but baggy jeans, a white beanie, and the new Asia Underground shirt with a long sleeve black and red striped shirt underneath. He pats the gold on his shoulder smiling with what appears to be a battered face as the camera turns to Akira who stands somewhat exhausted with his gold around his waste, also wearing the same sort of get up, only with an unzipped hoody and his usual mask on. Kobe smiles himself and then places his hands on both of his protégé’s shoulders, as Ben turns and begins to speak, rapidly and with a nervous tone. “Mr. Kobe, just two days ago - in what can be described as a highly intense and destructive match - both of the men you currently mentor entered a co-mainevented PPV, and won their first gold as a team. Obviously, Akira has held gold since then,” the camera turns to Akira who wears the SWF Cruiserweight Title proudly over his shoulder as he puts one hand on the belted tag title, his other holding up his singles belt, “But the world wants to know, what’s next for this undefeated tag team?” Mr. Kobe smiles, and with heavily Japanese accented English, responds enthusiastically, “I have much faith in the two of them. Michael, tonight, has a shot at his first singles gold, and while it’s questionable whether he will be cleared to compete, we have faith that if he does that he will capture the gold from a very dominant Bruce Blank. As of now, we have not been schedueled to defend the belts, however, both men of expressed great interest in establishing themselves as the best and most dominant tag team this organization has ever seen.” Kobe pauses and smiles at both me, who are appear very satisfied with the belts and their status together, despite rumors that had circulated earlier in the week. Ben cuts in, taking his chance to slip in another question, “Speaking of that, there was a lot of speculation of whether or no the Asia Underground would even show at From the Fire due to an injury attained less than a week before the show.” Both Hardy and the camera glance at Cross’ left leg as he leans on a crutch, “Some sources claimed Cross was indefinitely out of action until AT LEAST the end of April, maybe even later, while others boldly stated that the team of Akira Kaibatsu and Michael Cross were indeed on the outs. Can you elaborate on these rumors?” Kobe and Cross slip out a slight chuckle as Kobe begins translating English to Akira rapid fire, not even missing a beat. Kobe finishes and Akira stands tall, his somewhat tiring and slumping posture dissolved as he too partakes in the laugh. “Well,” Kobe interjects, sounding somewhat amused, “I think both of these belts show just how exaggerated that those rumors were. Michael was injured in the finals of the Lethal Lottery tournament, and was very iffy on going into the match, even before the rumors had been ‘reported’. We made a quick flight to Japan and had some very impressive training sessions, and both Akira and Michael made an oath to each other not to no show, and to prove just how wrong those sources were. We went in there with a strategy of exactly what capacity Michael would be used, and he fulfilled that almost perfectly without flaw. While it was unexpected that Akira wouldn’t be the one to make it up the ladder, as Michael appeared slower in training, he stuck through the pain and got up there. Akira made unselfish move, took Mr. Jenkins out of the picture, and gave Michael the exact opening we needed. If that doesn’t show just how on-page these two are, then I do not know what does.” Kobe turns away to leave as the members of Asia Underground follow, however, are interrupted by Ben Hardy once again. “One last question, Mr. Kobe…what’s next, will Michael Cross and Akira Kaibatsu take the singles route, or will they maintain their tag titles and defend those belts, as well as maintain the singles role they’ve showed very successfully? Will Michael Cross compete for the Ultra Violent title? What happens if he’s not cleared?” Hardy takes a big breath, as Kobe cops a smile, pausing and then turning back to face the camera. He pushes the mic towards Cross, who looks at Kobe, and then back at Hardy. “Akira and myself,” Cross stops, and then proceeds, “Will defend these belts against anyone that management puts in front of us, anyone we feel the need to knock some sense into, or anyone who thinks they’re just good enough to beat us. Not only will we defend our belts at all costs, we will defend ANY belt we have anytime we are called on to do so. And whether or not I am injured does not matter, because when we won these belts, we signed our health over to the company, and told them that carrying the prestige of the company on our backs would take a shotgun seat to our health. Albeit, they have not told me whether they will clear me to wrestle against Blank tonight – I know they’ve been in contact with Doctor Ichi Zenigawa. However, I will go out there and fight for that belt with 100% of my body for this company and for that belt. Because, Ben, no matter what condition, no matter the opponent, time, place, or stipulaton, I will ALWAYS work when I am told to work. So, you can take your sources, Ben, you can take them and stick ‘em, because I have proved myself.” Cross slaps the mic into Ben’s chest as the three men walk away ultimately satisfied, Ben standing there as the Asia Underground walks out with the possibility to wield the most gold in the SWF after tonight. The cameras fade to black as the echoes of fans cheering overlaps the audio.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to SWF AftershoXxXXXXxxXxXxXx!” exclaims Ben Hardy, terrifying audiences nationwide as the cameras fade back in on a close up of his fat head. “In our next match--” “Ben,” begins Sexton Hardcastle, tepidly, “is that officially what we’re calling it now?” “Yes,” Hardy deadpans. “As I was saying, our next match--” “Ben,” Sexton starts, again, “how do you pronounce that, exactly?” “Easily, because I’m not an idiot.” “Oh.” “Now, as I was saying,” Hardy continues, with but the mildest note of annoyance in his voice, “Our next match up was the culmination of the Lethal Lottery tournament that spanned the last six weeks in the SWF! The winners had earned the right to face the tag team champions, Max King and Landon Maddix, in a TLC match. And the first tag team tournament in SWF history provided us with some interesting results indeed.” “Yessir,” agrees Hardcastle. “Many people expected that Zyon & Spike Jenkins would be making the trip to From the Fire, but the Asian Underground’s performance in the Lethal Lottery has surprised many. They said that they were too young, too inexperienced, too naïve, too nubile, but Akira Kaibatsu and Michael Cross proved them wrong.” “Who are ‘they’?” Ben dryly inquires. “They’re me, Ben,” Sexton cryptically responds. “Every single one of them.” “…right. Let’s get to the highlights,” says Ben, hurriedly. “This match was expected to be a barnburner, but Zyon and Spike Jenkins weren’t even going to wait for the introductions before they got things started!” “The Asian Underground hadn’t even appeared in the match yet,” says Hardy, “But they weren’t about to let these four other guys get all of the attention. And when they did come, they came prepared.” “With a ladder!” Hardcaslte helpfully adds. “…yes. Thank you, Sexton.” “Of course, they didn’t bring the hardware down to the arena to clean some eaves troughs,” Ben adds. “It was only a matter of time before it got involved, and we had our first big spot of the match!” “Michael Cross took to the air, in what was going to become a common occurrence tonight!” exclaims Sexton. “Almost all six guys would get involved in the high flying action before all was said and done,” Ben affixes. “But first, Max King would make an early dash to the titles, and his overzealousness would cost him… and Landon Maddix, possibly for the rest of the match. Let’s watch.” “Oof… that wouldn’t be the last table that Max King had to go through, either,” Sexton notes. “He’s going to be picking splinters out of his trunks for weeks.” “Not long after this,” Ben speaks, “Spike Jenkins and Zyon would begin to assert themselves. “ “…and not long after that,” continues Hardy, “Zyon and Jenkins would run into the dogged problems that have arisen in their relationship.” “When Spike and Zyon work together, they’re the most devastating tandem in the SWF,” Sexton declares. “But with Spike knocked for a loop, it really had become anybody’s match once again.” “And for a few moments, it was all Landon Maddix! Of course, the crowd had no intention of letting him get a few moves in edgewise without having to hear about it…” Ben trails off as the clip starts up. “This momentary distraction was enough to allow Spike and Zyon to capitalize once again!” “But could they reconcile!?” Sexton exclaims melodramatically. “Well, briefly,” Hardy is able to quickly interject, before… “You know, I think Spike and Zyon are headed to splitsville,” says Hardcastle, knowingly. “Population: YOU!” “…Sexton, that doesn’t make any sense,” Hardy replies, shaking his head. “Anyway, could Landon Maddix and Max King make use of their own new advantage?” “Again, briefly,” Sexton announces. “Things were racing towards the inevitable conclusion,” announces Hardy, “With the heavy action now involving every man in this match.” “However, with everyone else either paired off, or incapacitated, we got a chance to see Spike Jenkins and Akira Kaibatsu face off in a fascinating segment. As you know, Ben, Hollywood is the #1 contender to the Cruserweight title of ‘Divine Wind,’” ** notes, “And this could be a preview of that matchup!” “With Cross and Hollywood nearing destiny, and the tag team champions all but out of things, it was time for both of their partners to make one last desperate intervention,” Hardy narrates, tensely, “And for Michael and Akira to make history.” “The Asia Underground, the youngsters Michael Cross and Akira Kaibatsu, overcome impossible odds and take home the SWF Tag Team titles at From the Fire!” Hardy exclaims. “And the second title change of the night!” exclaims Sexton along with Hardy. “It’s a youth movement, Ben! I can hardly contain myself!” “…for my sake, try. We’ll be back right after this with coverage of the most emotionally charged match of the night, with father and son facing off,” says Ben. “Don’t go away!”

Aftershock returns to the ring where Joseph Peters is joined by Bruce Blank and the Insane Luchador for a contract signing. Bruce is at one end of the long table and Insane Luchador is at the other end. The two combatants glare at each other but neither is making a move to attack which Peters seems to appreciate. “At From the Fire you beat Wayne Blank” Peters starts out by saying to Insane Luchador. YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!! The crowd cheers loudly, if not for IL after his actions at From the Fire then definitely for the fact that one of the Blank boys got their ass royally kicked. Luchador just sits at his end of the table and stares at Bruce without any reactions at all. “So gentlemen if you would please sign the contract for your first ever 1 on 1 encounter in an Ultraviolent match on the next Lockdown” Peters says as he slides the contract across the table to Insane Luchador. Luchador doesn’t even read the contract he just quickly signs his name at the bottom of the contract and then throws the contract and the pen at Bruce with contempt. “Maybe you can try not to lose the title before Lockdown” Luchador says “Cause that’ll just make defeat hurt even more when I also take your precious title” Peters looks a little worried, the tempers flare and he’s worried he’ll end up in the middle of a fight. Bruce on the other hand just puts the contract on the table and begins to study it closely making sure he reads everything. “Just sign the damn thing… or are you scared” IL says as he watches Bruce flip through the pages. “Scared?” Bruce says as he flips to the last page “You know something? Yeah I’ve been scared of you, I figured you were truly as insane as your name suggested, I thought you were unpredictable and dangerous” Bruce admits YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!! “Seems like I was wrong though” Bruce says with contempt, he definitely doesn’t look like he’s scared of Insane Luchador now. “You threw the Renegade at me thinking that he could stop me. That was your first mistake” Bruce stands up while IL just remains seated looking totally unimpressed by his towering opponent. “Then you pissed me off by turning the Blank Bomb on Wayne and putting him in the hospital. That was your second mistake” Bruce says angrily. “And what was my third mistake? Signing the contract?” IL says mocking Bruce, not bothered by the Ultraviolent champion’s bluster at all. Bruce doesn’t say anything at first, then he bends forward and signs the contract before picking it up from the table. “No little man that wasn’t your third mistake” Bruce says in a low voice as he stares at Insane Luchador. Bruce flings the contract at IL causing his opponent to take his eyes off him for a moment. That’s the opening Bruce was looking for as he quickly reaches down, grabs the edge of the table and then pushes it forward with all his power ramming the edge of the table straight into Insane Luchador’s unprotected solarplexus instantly driving the air out of him. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! Peters quickly leaps from the ring to get out of harms way but Bruce never even looked at Peters direction as he knocks IL out of his chair with a stiff lariat to the chest of the Ill one. “You want to use the Blank Bomb? I’ll show you how it’s done” Bruce yells at his dazed opponent. Bruce grabs IL by the head and then lifts him up in the air in a stalled suplex position and just holds him here for 10 seconds. Still stalling as the blood rushes to IL’s head making the already dazed superstar even more dazed. Then after what feels like minutes but is probably only 20 seconds or so Bruce drops Insane Luchador forward driving him straight through the table with a might *CRACK!!* WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! “Your third mistake was thinking that I’m still scared of you!!” Bruce yells as he points to the more or less unconscious Luchador. Bruce totally ignores the boos and the jeers from the audience as he picks up the contract and holds it in his hand. Then he pulls out a staple gun from his back pocket, places the contract on IL’s chest and. . . *THACK!!* OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHH!! Bruce just smiles as he staples the contract twice more *THACK!!* *THACK!!* To ensure that it’s still there when Luchador comes back to. * Fade out as the SWF security squad led by JJ Johnson heads to the ring to get Bruce away from Insane Luchador *

"Hello again," Ben Hardy says, still buried under the Aftershox Decor, and now bleeding from the mouth a bit. "One of From the-... god damn it." He tongues around his mouth for a second- *POP* "DIBS!" Sexton pounces on the tooth and runs off, desperately searching for a pillow. "... One of From the Fire's most anticipated matches was the showdown between Jay Hawke and Wildchild - these two had clashed a number of times over the past few months, with Jay Hawke always managing to slip away with the title. But at From the Fire, they would fight in the confines of a Steel Cage, leaving the Dean of Professional Wrestling nowhere to run." -=-=- Now Jay Hawke has always prided himself on being a smart wrestler, who can almost see what his opponents are planning. Apparently Wildchild took this into account as he planned the match, because Jay Hawke never saw it coming... From there, the fight spilled out into the crowd, further and further away from the cage... Finally, the two made it into the ring, and the match began... As the match wore on, it continued to favor Jay Hawke's methodical wrestling style, but no matter how hard he tried, he just could not but the Bahaman Bomber away... Wildchild was just waiting for an opportunity to strike - and a few moments later, that opportunity came... "And so," Hardy mumbles as his tongues another loose tooth- *POP* "I'M RICH! Where'd I put that pillow?!" "Stop taking my teeth, you dick!" "THE TOOTH FAIRY COMMANDS IT." "... and so, Wildchild has finally ended Jay Hawke's historic International Title reign, and begins one of his own. How will it stack up? Only time will tell."

“This has been a heck of a week, King, and I don’t think the ball’s about to stop rolling!” Comet exclaims as SWF Aftershoxx returns from a commercial break. The camera focuses on the Smarktron. The back locker room is empty save one SWF employee. The fans in the arena give a healthy jeer as ‘The Perfect Storm’ Sean Davis enters the shot. He has a cell phone to his ear. Davis wears a tight tee shirt and sweatpants, dampened from an earlier workout. “Don’t give me that bullshit!!” he shouts into the receiver, his overall emotional state obviously at a boiling point. Sean slams the flip phone shut and throws it into his gym bag. “DAMMIT!!” *CLANG!* One of the metal lockers along the wall takes a cheap shot, leaving a nice dent in the door. “Go easy, big guy.” The all too familiar voice has Davis whirling around to face the newcomer, none other than ‘The Fallen Angel’ David Cross. Sean’s brows furrow and a snarl mangles his lips. “You,” Sean points. “Are the last person I want to see right now.” David, in slacks and a jacket, eases into the locker room, setting his bag down on the bench. “Tough, I guess.” It takes Sean only a millisecond to cover the distance between him and David Cross. Barely two inches of air separates the two superstars. Cross doesn’t back down, but Sean doesn’t attack. Sean grumbles, “Give me three good reasons I shouldn’t whoop your ass right here, right now.” David tilts his head slightly, a small smirk quirking the corner of his lips. “One, the security. I know, I know, you ‘ain’t afraid of them’.. just like I’m not afraid of you. But this can wait for the ring, or the hotel lobby, whatever suits your fancy.” Sean leans back slightly, giving David a bit more breathing room. ‘The Perfect Storm’ takes in a deep breath. “Where’s Rashelle?” Cross raises a brow. “You don’t honestly think I’d bring her here, do you? C’mon.. “ Davis suddenly shoves David back into the lockers, but Cross throws Sean’s arms off. Sean’s fists clench at his sides, but he sniffs at Cross, giving him a look of disdain before grabbing up his gym bag. Sean warns Cross, “You shouldn’t have come back. You may’ve returned walking, but I’ll make damn sure you leave on a stretcher.” As Davis turns to leave the locker room, Cross calls after him, “Just like Angelo left the party?!” Sean snaps his head, glaring sixteen inch katanas at David Cross. “That’s right,” David nods. “I know what happened. Don’t think I don’t know.. “ The Smarktron fades to black and the camera shot returns to Suicide King and Cyclone Comet at the announce table. “Knows what?! What does he know, King?!” queries Comet?

Back in the catering area, which is more densely populated than usual due to the fact 95% of the roster have been flown in for a one match show, a commotion is just in the process of being dealt with. An enraged Jimmy The Doom is being dragged away from the scene by various backstage hangers on, a tray of sandwiches having been flung across the floor and generally smushed in a show of Straight-Bread defiance. Having missed all of this, Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix glances around the scene curiously as he routinely pours himself a coffee. After a last scream of "STRAIGHT BREAD SHALL RISES, FOREVERING!" Jimmy is hauled off out of sight. Everyone in the catering area turns back to their previous actions as Landon, coffee poured, strolls off. "LANDON!" Recognising the voice calling out, Landon turns around to check that he's not hearing things. But indeed, he's right. From the main section of seating, Megan Skye jogs over to the former Tag Team Champion which prompts a rather awkward moment. Landon sets down his coffee as Megan comes to a stop, staying cautiously out of reaching distance. "So, Todd finally unchained you from the stove then?" sneers Landon. "Does your boyfriend know you're fraternising with the 'old enemy'." An awkward silence sparks up between the former manager and client combo. It's been months since they last saw each other, even more since it was on anything approaching ammicable terms. Landon seems confused that Megan is even acknowledging him, let alone starting a conversation. Or, trying. "Landon..." "Look, whatever you're gonna say next, I don't want to hear it. You made your choice, you moved on, you're playing happy housekeeper now. And I'm supposed to stand her and listen to you the moment you finally choose to come to me and acknowledge the fact I'm even alive? Believe me, I'm not that desperate and I'm not that fickle. So save it, okay?" "Landon, please...I'm..." Megan voice breaks up a little, which finally gains her Landon's attention. "...what the hell has happened to you?" Landon looks confused for a moment. "You know damn well what's happened to me. Hell, you and Todd were respons..." "No, not that." despairs Megan. "Toxxic." "What about Toxxic?" "Landon, look at yourself. It's like you're a different person these past few months, to the point I don't even recognise you anymore. You're scatty, you're volatile...I hate seeing you like this Landon. It's scaring me." "Oh, I'm SCARING you, am I? Oh, well I'm SO sorry!! If I'd had known what effect I'd have on my former manager who deserted me for somebody who was supposed to be my friend and tag team partner, then I never would have started this campaign in the first place! This suddenly puts me almost suffering a BROKEN NECK in such context!" Noticing Megan sadly looking at the floor, Landon pauses. "What the hell do you care about me anymore, anyway?" moans Maddix. "I still care." replies Megan sadly. "Whether you believe it or not, I don't want to see you get hurt." "You were there at From The Fire, Megan. The way you talk, you expect me to suddenly turn my feelings on and off...you might be able to do that, but I can't. Toxxic could have broken my neck Megan. He tried, god knows he tried. He ruined my life. He tore you and me apart. Whenever I remember that night, I don't just stop at the moment he dropped me on my head. Believe me, I've tried. It's all there though. The feeling of fear. My blood turning ice cold when I came to and couldn't feel my legs for those few seconds, which felt like hours and still feels like hours to this day. Being loaded onto that stretcher...you, holding my hand, sobbing as they bundled me in the ambulance. I still FEEL all of that and it makes me sick to my stomach. I still have nightmares sometimes and when I wake up in a cold sweat, I still feel it. When I see you and Todd playing happy families, I still feel it. So if you don't want to see me hurt then you might as well turn yourself around and walk off down that corridor, because I'm ALREADY hurt!" "Landon, please, you have to stop this." implores Megan. "You're not LISTENING are you!" snaps Maddix, reaching forward and grabbing Megan by the shoulders. A scared Megan quickly pulls herself away which is the first point Landon actually realises what he's doing, sheepishly backing off from his shaking ex-valet. "This isn't right, Landon...you have to stop this, before you get hurt...even more hurt." "I'm not scared of Toxxic..." "That's the problem!" Megan despairs. "You used to be afraid of Toxxic! You used to be afraid of Janus! You used to have some sort of sense of where to draw the line, but now you're just out of control and you're either going to do something you regret, or somebody's going to get to you before you get chance! And not just Toxxic These security people...you don't want to annoy them. There's rumours and everything flying around about them and you and it's not good stuff Landon and I'm really beginning to get...you know...worried about you." Megan brushes the hair from her eyes, biting her lip as she looks at Landon. "Please, Landon, don't do something you'll regret." Sighing, Landon places his hands on his hips. He looks remotely remorseful for the way Megan is looking and clearly feeling, but he'll be damned if he's gonna show it. "That's the thing. I already have done...too much, infact. I regret pretty much the entire past twelve months of my life. And it's all because of Toxxic and what he did to me at From The Fire. If you wanna help, you and your boyfriend can go around the world looking for him. Otherwise...stay the hell out of my business." Landon turns on his heels, snatches his coffee and storms off, leaving Megan to despondantly look on.

(The following is a special presentation of the Smarks Wrestling Federation.) (TV-MA) (LSV) Cue the opening theme music and pyrotechnic blasts as SWF AftershoX begins! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM! The camera pans across the rows and rows of excited fans before settling on the show's announcers, Cyclone Comet and Suicide King. "Welcome to SWF AftershoX!" hollers Cyclone Comet. "I am CYCLOOOOONE COMET, and here with me is the Suicide King!" "We're here live in the sold out Aggie Memorial Stadium at New Mexico University," says King. "And tonight we're going to run down the events of this Tuesday's wildly successful pay per view, SWF From the Fire!" "We'd like to thank everyone who made From the Fire such a success," says Comet. "And what a show it was! No less than three championships changed hands, including the SWF World Heavyweight Championship!" "As a bonus attraction tonight," says King, "the Ultraviolent Championship will be on the line tonight, as Bruce Blank takes on Michael Cross of the Asian Underground." "Well, what are we waiting for?" asks Comet. "Let's get started!" Suddenly a set of white flashing lights illuminates the stage, and "I'm Alive" by Disturbed begins playing over the sound system. The audience begins booing loudly as Kevin Coyote emerges from the entrance. He wears his usual blue jean jacket (and his ".hack//coyote" T-shirt underneath tonight), and sports a few bruises and bandaged areas, including one noticably large bandage on his forehead (where he had taken a shot from his own brass knuckles in his last match). "What the hell?" asks Comet. "Ladies and gentlemen," announces Funyon in the center of the ring, "please welcome to the ring at this time... KEVIN... COYOTE!" The fans give Coyote their own version of a "welcome." "KEV-IN SUCKS!" "KEV-IN SUCKS!" "KEV-IN SUCKS!" "All the titles that changed hands, all the big matches at From the Fire, and THIS is the guy that comes out first?" gripes Comet. "How'd he manage to reserve this segment?" "I heard he successfully arm-wrestled An Octopus," says King. "That's a serious challenge considering he has eight arms." Coyote ignores the chanting from the New Mexico college audience as he heads down the ramp, climbing into the ring and snatching the microphone from Funyon's hand. He waits for the audience to die down a little before speaking. "Who's on top of the world now?" Coyote asks, now waiting for an answer. "World title change? International title change? Impressive, yes, but nothing compares to what I brought to the table at From the Fire. I brought the fire to the event, dammit! I defeated Longdogger Pete in a street fight, and I ended his damned career!" A few scattered chants sound out for "L! D! P!" but none echo with any pronounced effect. Coyote continues. "Unfortunately, I do not have medical clearance to wrestle tonight. However, at least I managed to show up. As for LDP, well, turns out he'll be spending a little time in the severe burn/trauma unit - possibly as long as several weeks!" "It's true!" agrees King. "I read the medical report myself." "Now as I'm sure you all know," says Coyote, "I had a little help at From the Fire. I think it's time you met the source of that help." He reaches into his right jacket pocket and pulls out a mobile cell phone. "Excuse me a second." He flips the phone open and speed-dials a number, then speaks into the phone. "Hey, baby." "...yeah, it's time. Come on out, girl." Coyote hangs up the phone and returns it to his pocket before continuing on the microphone. "And now let me introduce to the world, my girlfriend and new manager... AVERY DUCIEL!" The lights dim out and the arena goes silent. Suddenly a bright Zippo lighter lights up on stage. A dimly lit female figure standing on the stage holds up the lighter, and lights a fuse hanging in midair over her head. As the fuse lights, a sparkler-like light travels up the fuse until the fuse reaches its end, high overhead. An explosion sounds above, causing a shower of red and orange sparks to rain down over the woman's head. Two more explosions erupt on either side of the stage, causing fountains of red and orange sparks to shoot upward from the floor. The woman raises her arms in the air, cackling madly as the sparks shower down around her. "Chinese Burn" by Curve begins playing over the sound system as the pyro dies out and the lights resume their normal levels. "Oh my God, she lights her own pyro?" asks Comet. "How freaking cool is that?" With the lights back up, the audience finally gets a better look at Avery Duciel. Avery is a short woman with a somewhat muscular build and long, dark red hair. She wears a red business suit with a black inner top, a very short, straight red skirt, black fishnets, and red heels. Avery gets a few whistles and catcalls from the college kids as she reaches the bottom of the ramp and climbs carefully into the ring with Kevin Coyote. She waves to the audience with one raised hand, still holding the Zippo in the other. "Glad you could make it, girl," says Coyote to Avery. "I wanted the world to see the woman who would be accompanying me on my rise to the top of this federation! However... there is one more reason I came out here today... we have a little bit of unfinished business." Coyote reaches into his left jacket pocket, and slides out an envelope. "What I hold in my hand right now," declares Coyote, "is the SWF contract of one Peter MacDougal, aka Longdogger Pete. And I promised that after I ended Pete's career at From the Fire, that I would personally tear up this contract!" He hesitates as he considers his options. "However..." Coyote hands the contract to Avery. "Since you had a hand in this. Perhaps you would like to do the honors." Avery smiles wickedly as she accepts the envelope. However, instead of tearing up the envelope, she flicks her Zippo lighter and touches the flame to the envelope, setting the contract ablaze! "Avery Duciel has just set LDP's contract on fire!" shouts Comet. "Pretty cool, huh?" asks King. Avery casually tosses the burning envelope aside, letting it land in the corner of the ring, where a frantic Funyon quickly stomps on it in order to put out the fire quickly. Meanwhile, Coyote drops the microphone, and then, in an uncharacteristic show of emotion, he grabs Avery, dips her backward, and kisses her! "Well, Kevin Coyote has made one thing clear," says King. "He plans to make it to the top here in the SWF, and Avery Duciel has every intention of helping him get there!" "I'm Alive" begins playing again as Coyote and Avery exit the ring, once again ignoring the audience reaction, and start to head up the ramp. "Coyote has made a strong statement here on AftershoX," says Comet. "But we've still got a lot of show left! We've got to go to a commercial, but stay right where you are for more SWF action!"

"Sexton, don't touch that-" KABOOM! CRASH! BAGN! I MEAN BANG! I wish that was the Aftershoxxxx opening pyro, but it's not! "For the love of God, get this stuff off me!" shouts Ben Hardy in the Aftershoxx studio, covered in what was supposed to be the new set design! Hunks of twisted metal and building rubble, which had been set up just so to make it look like an Earthquake had just occured, have buried the poor announcer on National TV. "What?" he shouts offscreen, presumably at his producer. "What do you mean continue the show?! I can't do it like thi- Pat! Pat, seriously, come on!" ... "You wouldn't..." ... "... fine... ugh... I can't believe I'm doing this." Hardy turns back to the camera and flashes his million dollar smi-... well, his thirty seven dollar smile... "Welcome to SWF Aftershoxx!"

It won't be Curtis. It'll be Chase.

Saturday's out for me, as I work pretty much all day. The later time on Sunday is fine, though.

chirs3 If anyone's up for it, I could use a few guinea pigs over Skype sometime soon. Still no clue what made my system melt down, so I'd like to try another conference call to see if it happens again.

YES!

Yeah, I was waiting to edit in IL/Wayne before I mentioned that.

The Smartmark's Wrestling Federation Presents... SWF AFTERSHOXXXxXxxXXxXXXXxXXxX! LIVE, THURSDAY, MARCH 16th, FROM THE SOLD OUT AGGIE MEMORIAL STADIUM AT NEW MEXICO UNIVERSITY! (7:00pm PST, 10:00pm EST; check local listings) We've stumbled around the northern midwest for long enough! With From the Fire 2k6 in the books, it's now time to kick off the SWF's HELL OR HIGH WATER Southern Tour! It starts tonight in New Mexico - from here, we'll be moving East, hitting all the important southern states before winding up in Florida - just in time for BATTLEGROUND! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The Main Event - Ultraviolent Championship Match Bruce Blank © vs. Michael Cross © ---> AftershoxXXxXXXxxx's Main Event (and only match, really) - Michael Cross was named #1 Contender to the Ultraviolent Title a few short weeks ago, and tonight is his shot! But is he in any condition to compete after TLC, especially with only 2 days to rest? With Bruce Blank, no less? Let's hope so... Rules: ULTRAVIOLENT RULES~! Word Limit: 4500 Send to: Justice -=-=-=-=- El Luchadore Magnifico may be the most dominant World Champ we've ever had, but he's also become a repeat victim of THE MAJOR UPSET! Three years ago, TNT flipped off the odds and took the belt from Magnifico at this very PPV - and now Wes Davenport, an even bigger underdog, has done the exact same thing! I have no doubt we'll be hearing from the champ come Aftershoxx - will we be hearing from the ex-Champ as well? PLUS! Wildchild finally stops Jay Hawke's title reign dead in its tracks, and the Asia Underground snatch Tag Team Gold in TLC! Hopefully we'll be hearing from our new champions about their wins, and future plans! And lastly, Insane Luchadore bested Wayne Blank in the Ultraviolent Ladder Match, securing himself a guarenteed shot at Bruce! Tonight, the contract is signed! -=-=-=-=- Opening Promo: Kevin Coyo-tay!! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- (Send all promos, marked matches, etc. to Justice...) Yes, THURSDAY. In order to get the schedule back on track after the Lethal Lottery derailed everything, we're keeping Aftershoxx as bareboned as possible - after this show, we're back on regular rotation (Smarkdown on Monday). Check the dates thread if you don't believe me. Anyways, go get your promo on! EDIT: ALSO NOTE - For this show, we're keeping Comet/King for commentary if you need them, while we sort out the commentator stuff. We should have an actual decision regarding commentary when the Smarkdown card goes up.

Holy title changes, Batman! And I am extremely disappointed that 'Drea did not job to An Octopus again. Shame on you. Unless you're setting up a feud with Another Octopus - if that's the case, good work.

Back in a dim room, Hiroshi Hojo reaches across a table and switches off a monitor. His eternally pleasant smile makes him difficult to read, but it seems that he is quite pleased with the events that have taken place tonight at From the Fire. Comtemplatively, he swishes around a glass of red wine, held in one of his white gloved hands. The eternal timetable pushes forward, now with a quickening pace. The era of subtle movements and acting from the shadows is drawing to a close, and the second act of his grand play is about to begin. Tonight, seeds have been sewn. Tomorrow, he will fly out to meet with the Council. And from there... Hojo sips his drink, his eyes falling from the red liquid and onto an aged poster of a former SWF superstar, SWF champion... Thoth. "It has all come to pass, my friend. And soon," Hojo mutters, "Soon it will be exactly as I have predicted. "So Says the Clan..."

The events that have just transpired still have the crowd stunned, in fact, the entire night have been emotionally draining, with epic matches left and right, but with still one to go. The American West arena is packed to the rafters with loyal SWF fans, but even they must hold up the white flag… *DING! DING! DING!* “Ladies and Gentlemen,” booms Funyon from the centre of the ring, bring the audience back to reality. “the following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP!” Suddenly, the whole arena begins to buzz once again as zero hour approaches and the fans cheer as if it were the opening bout all over again! These cheers reach deafening levels as through the P.A they hear the unmistakable sounds of OK Go, as hands start clapping and feet start stamping— “A lot of knots, a lot of snags! A Lot of holes, a lot of cracks, a lot of crags!” --A spotlight suddenly shines down on the entranceway— “A lot of naggin’ old hags, a lot of fools, a lot of full scumbags!” --and Wes Davenport strides out from behind the curtain, proudly stepping into the light and raising his arms into the air as a literal rainbow of pyro, blue, red, green black, explodes at either side of the stage! The flashy spectacle ignites the crowd as they continue to cheer for Wes as he walks down the ramp way, “Get Over It” playing behind him as always. “Well, folks, the time is now upon us,” Comet begins, “where two men will enter that ring, but only one will leave as the World Heavyweight Champion!” “And what an exciting match up it promises to be!” King responds with glee, although his attitude soon sours. “Or, it would have been, if an actual wrestler had won the Clusterf*ck.” “Introducing first,” Funyon begins, clearing his throat, “from Hollywood, California, he weighs in at 259 pounds… please welcome, the winner of the 2006 Clusterfuck and number one contender to the World Heavyweight title… he is WES DAAAAVVVEEEEENNNNNNNPOOOOORRRRT!” “I still can’t believe you think that!” Comet fires back in an uproar. “Davenport has been on an unbelievable streak since joining our fair federation, and I don’t believe it’s going to stop now!” “Oh, you don’t think so? Let’s recap, shall we?” says King as the Superhero lets out a long sigh. “His first win was against Matt Myers, so that doesn’t even count. Fast forward to where he somehow wins the Clusterfuck, thanks to 19 other men doing ALL the work, and then we’ll skip to last week, where he was carried in his tag match against Hawke and Magnifico by Wildchild! Face it, freak, he doesn’t stand a chance without help.” “I’ll admit he’s still a little rough around the edges…” replies Comet, trying to defend the man who steps into the ring, acknowledging the crowd with kisses instead of warming up for the biggest match of his career. “Rough around the edges?” scoffs King. “Comet, he wouldn’t know a Leglock from Wedlock.” “Well, both ARE extremely painful…” “Of course, but the simple fact is, Magnifico is a world class wrestler, and Davenport is a B-Grade actor, and a D-Grade wrestler. The result is in books already as far as I’m concerned, and its obvious Magnifico feels the same way.” As if on cue, the arena is suddenly bathed in darkness, and the jubilation ceases straight away as almost every fan in the American West Arena begins to jeer with venom… … “HEY HEY!” BOOM! “And speak of the devil, here he is,” King proudly proclaims as the now infamous sounds of Atake FDD’s “Tu Final” blares through the speakers, causing the boo’s to only intensify in both volume and spite! As the smoke clears from the pyro, the fans catch sight of the World Champion, his title belt shimmering under the house lights as the same spotlight Wes was under shines on ELM, causing the actor to frown. He suddenly thrusts his Mexican Flag high into the air before storming down the ramp way. “And, his opponent…” Funyon cries, “From Mexico City! He weighs in at 210 pounds… please welcome YOUR record breaking World Heavyweight Champion… EL LUCHADOOOOOOOOOOOORE MAAAAAAAAAAGNIFICOOOOOOOOOO!” “Devil is correct,” Comet glumly states. “Magnifico has been nothing short of a villain since taking that World Title, treating his fellow wrestlers with nothing but disrespect, including the one’s he enlisted to help in his aid!” “BUT,” King counters, “if there’s one man in the federation right now that can proudly flaunt his success, it’s Magnifico. He’s beaten all comers, including men like Jay Hawke and JJ Johnson, and look where they are now.” “Hawke’s a record breaking International Champion and a—“ “Yeah, ok, but what about the other guy?” “JJ Johnson has… strangely disappeared,” Comet replies with a hint of worriment. “Precisely, and that’s exactly what Magnifico will do to Davenport here tonight,” boasts King, squinting angrily at the actor turned wrestler. “He’ll show Davenport up for the moron that he truly is and send him from the fed in disgrace.” The reception for the World Champion is none too kind, but to Magnifico it matters little. He pats his World Title while snubbing the fans at ringside, shooing them away with his flag. Davenport’s heart suddenly sinks as he catches sight of his opponent, and his self-esteem takes a dive. “I wouldn’t be so sure my cocksure friend,” Comet responds. “These two have hardly interacted over the past month, simply because Magnifico thinks Davenport isn’t worth his time! But if I know my fellow actor, he wouldn’t let the Luchadore get away with such disrespect!” As Magnifico steps into the squared circle, handing his title to referee Placeholder, the official in charge, Davenport looks as white as a sheet. He suddenly realizes the task before him, and the caliber of man he has to face. Magnifico, on the other hand, pays little attention to his opponent and all his attention to a hottie in the third row. “We’re just about set to begin,” informs Comet. “These two men have both come into this match with a clean bill of health, so I expect this to be a desperate slog, with neither man wanting to give an inch! It sure won’t be pretty, folks!” “Much like Wes’ last few movies,” King says with a snicker as Placeholder hands the World Title to the timekeeper carefully per Magnifico’s instructions, before calling for the bell! *DING! DING! DING!* With the bell run, and the match officially underway, the fans expect an absolute frenetic pace and chaotic action to fill the ring! Their hopes are dashed however, as neither man moves from their corner. Magnifico seems totally nonchalant, examining his cuticles and pondering where he’ll celebrate his victory tonight- at a club, perhaps, or maybe his penthouse suite? On the opposite side of the ring, Davenport looks dead ahead, suddenly frozen in time. He’d imagined a sweet victory tonight, but now that he’s in the ring, the gravity of the situation suddenly dawns on him. The Luchadore’s behavior has him completely off-guard and doubting himself yet again, but he’s suddenly brought back to reality as… DAVEN-PORT! DAVEN-PORT! DAVEN-PORT! …his fans, his support net, suddenly break into unanimous chanting! DAVEN-PORT! DAVEN-PORT! DAVEN-PORT! “All of these fine people are eager to see justice prevail this evening,” Comet announces, as the chant continues unabated, much to his pleasure, “and see our fine World Title around the waist of someone we can truly be proud of!” “I guess they’ll have to wait until I finally make my return,” retorts King, smirking delightfully. “Don’t fool yourself, Comet, Davenport is afraid of what’s to come. Much like his movie career, he’s going down in flames tonight, and the sooner you realize--“ But before King can launch into yet another anti-Davenport tirade, the man himself suddenly comes to life, charging across the squared circle with all haste, and intent in his eyes! SMACK! … but the reenergized actor suddenly has his power cut in violent fashion as Magnifico hits him with a standing dropkick, right to the jaw! “Wes is going to make a fool of himself if he doesn’t give up now,” King proudly boasts as Magnifico quickly moves into a cover, with referee Placeholder right there on the scene! ONE TWO - but only a two count is reached before Davenport powers out! Magnifico, though slightly concerned at Wes’ powerful show of defiance, continues his assault on the actor, albeit in casual fashion. Lifting Davenport to his feet, the Mexican shoots him into the ropes, and on Wes’ return, drops to the canvas in a flash, taking Wes down with a Drop Toe Hold, while locking in a Crossface at the same time! A muted gasp is heard from the crowd as Davenport hits the mat, and Magnifico tries to lock in the Sangria Stretch! “That’s it, it’s all over,” says King, already getting up from his seat. “This time I get the window seat, Comet.” … But King may have been a tad hasty in his forecast, because as soon as the World Champion has the hold locked on, Davenport suddenly pushes throws all his weight forward, breaking the hold through sheer power! The fans voice their delighted approval, much to the Champion’s distaste as he retreats-but only temporarily. “Well, well,” says the Superhero as King slinks back into his seat, “the man you incessantly call an inept buffoon, Wes Davenport, counters Magnifico’s hold with ease!” “Hey…” King answers, genuinely offended. “I never said inept buffoon, I said freaking moron.” “Nevertheless,” continues Comet, leering at King, “the nefarious Magnifico thought he could get a quick and decisive victory in so little time, but was foiled by Wes, who proves to be full of surprises!” “He’s full of something all right,” mutters King, as back in the ring, Davenport climbs back to his feet, ready to receive the love from the crowd… but receives nothing more than a jabbing forearm from his Luchadore opponent! Repeated blows back Davenport into the ropes, the actor dazed as Magnifico fires him into the opposite strands. As Davenport returns, Magnifico springs from the mat and onto the hulking shoulders of the actor, attempting to drag Davenport neck first to the canvas! Once again, the actor holds firm and stops Magnifico mid-move through sheer strength, letting the Mexican dangle from his shoulders! Wanting to send an emphatic message, Davenport hoists Magnifico’s torso back up in preparation for a Powerbomb-NO! The Champion is too cunning and falls down the back of the challenger to the canvas, putting him off balance and yanking him down to the mat by the waist, rolling him up! ONE TWO-Kick out! Davenport shabbily somersaults away from Magnifico’s pinning attempt and back onto his feet, rushing forward to take Magnifico’s legs in both arms, flipping over into a bridged position, pinning the champion again! “Stunning counter,” Comet cries, “he may just shock the world with this simple maneuver!” ONE TWO-No! Wes only gets a two count as the Luchadore shoots an arm off the canvas, breaking Davenport’s hold, much to the Mexican’s relief. “Humph,” grunts King, “these flashes of ring know-how won’t deliver Davenport victory this time.” As both men climb to their feet, a little winded but relatively unscathed, the crowd roar behind them, rallying behind Davenport. The two men gaze through the crowd, but only one is left captivated by the spectacle, while the other shoots forward suddenly-- CRACK! --as Magnifico let’s fly with a Knife-Edge chop! The fans refuse to react with the customary ‘Woo’s’ and answer with only ‘Boo’s’ as Magnifico hits another, followed by another, followed by ANOTHER! Finding himself backed into a corner, Wes tries to retaliate with a right hand, but Magnifico easily ducks underneath the wild blow, and fires his shoulder right into Davenport’s ribcage! A few more charges have Davenport groaning, and Magnifico smiling deviously as he sends Wes into the opposite corner with an Irish Whip. The actor hits with a loud thump, and an audible curse as Magnifico follows after him in close pursuit, leaping into the air, planting his feet into Davenport’s chest and grabbing him by the back of the head! “Magnifico Monkey Flip coming up!” shouts King, but he and Magnifico are both stunned to find Davenport counter, wrapping his arms around the champion and turning around, placing him on the top turnbuckle! The challenger fires a right hand towards the Luchadore, but Magnifico swats him away with a kick to the jaw, and when Davenport tries again, he gets another for his trouble! The actor rubs his jaw, but is determined to come around for a third pass-only for Magnifico to grab him around the neck, push off the turnbuckles, spin, and plant Davenport with a Tornado DDT! “Curses!” shouts Comet. “Magnifico finally gets one up on our dear Davenport, and the actor’s title aspirations may be dashed!” “Davenport only delayed the inevitable, Comet. He showed some spark, I’ll give him that,” King answers, with all the false adulation in the world, “but he just can’t cut it at this level.” With those words, Placeholder slides across the mat as Magnifico grinds his forearm into Davenport’s face, which he takes great pleasure from doing. ONE TWO-KICKOUT! “Don’t speak so soon my friend,” Comet happily replies, showing a toothy grin to King, “Davenport may be taken lightly by some, including our World Champion himself, but I just know that if given his shot, he’ll make the most of it!” Despite Comet’s hopeful reassurance, things look grim for the former B-movie actor as he crawls towards the turnbuckles, pulling himself onto his feet Magnifico just shakes his head, letting the whole crowd know what he thinks of Wes as he approaches the actor, hitting him with few lazy punches, before propelling him across the ring. Magnifico follows close behind Wes as he nears the turnbuckles, but suddenly throws his arms out, stopping dead in his tracks! Before the Luchadore can even react, Davenport sends a mule kick right into his breadbasket! “Low blow ref, low blow!” cries King in protest, but to no avail as Wes turns back around to meet his foe, hitting him with a right hand! The crowd finds their voice again as the actor sends decapitating European Uppercuts at Magnifico, displaying his brutish strength before whipping Magnifico into the ropes for a little revenge. “If Davenport can get on a roll,” Comet begins as Magnifico bounces back from the ropes, “he could keep Magnifico down for good! We’ve seen how he can defeat an opponent with only a few high impact maneuvers!” With this in the forefront of his mind, Davenport sweeps Magnifico off his feet, spinning him around in a tilt-a-whirl, but Magnifico slips free from his grasp in mid-flight! The Mexican is able to land safely on his feet, but Davenport grabs him only a split-second later, trying to take him over with a hasty Hip Toss, but Magnifico escapes at the last moment like he always does, finding his feet once again! Davenport, frustrated and very possibly frightened, tries to knock the Champion’s head clear off with a clothesline, but Magnifico almost scoffs as he expertly ducks beneath and sends a rising knee lift into Davenport’s stomach! “When will he learn…” King mocks as Davenport is doubled over, Magnifico latches onto him, quickly taking him over with a Snap Suplex! “Lady Luck just isn’t favoring Davenport tonight,” King reports civilly, until he follows with, “and it’s exposing his massive, giant, glaring weaknesses and just general lack of talent.” Magnifico quickly hooks his opponent by the leg, Placeholder there to count straight away… ONE! TWO! NO! “Davenport kicks out!” Comet gleefully replies. “He may not be the most polished wrestler, or make the right decision… much of the time, he still has heart and determination, and not to mention the support of the entire SWF fan base at his back!” On cue, the crowd cheers at the top of their lungs, willing Davenport on as he crawls away, a little worse for wear, his pride hit most. Magnifico yawns as he asks Placeholder for a 3 count, but the referee states that it actually has to be a 3 count before a 3 count can be awarded. The Champion just shrugs; thinking 5 more minutes isn’t too long to wait after all. The champion leans down to pick Davenport up, boasting, “Your wasting my fucking time, you know that? Just lie down, accept your fate, and you’ll be back to making shitty made for TV movies in no time.” The Mexican brings Wes to a vertical base and… leaves him there, opting to stand back and hold up his fingers, making sure to frame Davenport perfectly. “Now this is just unacceptable, I won’t stand for it!” cries Comet in an outrage, while King just giggles. “Magnifico better watch out, or his repeated showboating and lack of respect will be his downfall, he has to concentrate or--” “Oh please, Comet, don’t get your cape in a knot,” King replies. “Magnifico has had Davenport’s number at every turn, bar a fluke or two. Right now, he’s just prolonging the end and giving these people there money’s worth, because that’s the kind of champion he is.” Satisfied he has the shot he wants, Magnifico steps forward and… stamps on Davenport’s foot! Then to add insult to injury, the Luchadore pokes him in the eyes, sending the actor stumbling away with a yelp! Placeholder gets in Magnifico’s face, but the Mexican just brushes past him, feeling like he could do just about anything right now… CRACK! … That is, until a Standing Side Kick from Wes Davenport knocks the taste right out of his mouth! “Das Boot, Das Boot!” Comet incessantly yells. “Our diligent Davenport scores with the equalizer, but now he just has to follow up!” “Hey, you’re not calling people Citizen’s anymore.” “When did I ever?” Magnifico wobbles back and forth, but won’t fall down! The Mexican simply rubs his jaw and darts right back towards the frustrating actor, who dodges to the side, takes him by the arm and flings Magnifico across the ring with an Arm Drag! The simple maneuver won’t keep Magnifico away for long, but it gives the crowd a little hope as the Luchadore grunts, the actor’s show of defiance starting to get on his nerves. The crowd’s cheers suddenly lift in intensity, which cause Magnifico to spit in the general direction of the tens of thousands of fans… but the momentary distraction gives Wes a small window which he exploits, rushing forward and crashing into the World Champion with a clothesline! Magnifico whirls back to his feet, but loses his way and walks right into another Davenport clothesline! With his brains ever so slightly scrambled, Magnifico is on the back foot for the first time, backing himself into a corner. The lumbering actor steps forward and— BAM! --let’s fly with a European uppercut! Several more follow, each hitting harder than the last, as the reception from the crowd each gets grows! “There’s nothing pretty about this match, King, that’s for sure,” Comet says, “just two guys, one big and one small, beating the holy heck out of each other!” The aforementioned big guy continues to wail on the small guy, before whipping him across the thing with thundering speed, sending him smacking into the turnbuckles back first and rebound back from the sheer impact! Davenport shoots a kick forward, connecting with Magnifico and doubling him over as Wes lifts the Champion high into the air, holding him completely vertical for all the fans to see! This time, it’s Davenport’s foolishness that allows Magnifico to slip out the back door, reach down, and pin Davenport’s shoulders to the mat with a School Boy! ONE TWO THR-NO! “Only two!” yells Comet, feeling he has to reiterate that as Davenport scurries to his feet, panicked by the sudden counter that he does something rash, firing off another Standing Side Kick, but this time, Magnifico has it scouted and Davenport’s boot flies just mere inches past Magnifico’s head as he dodges! Wes stumbles forward, losing his composure suddenly as he spins back around with another clothesline, but Magnifico has Davenport figured out, and ducks it easily, opening the way for ELM to grab Davenport under the arm and over the throat, using every ounce of strength to lift his feet off the mat, pivot around and— WHAM! --plant Davenport with the… “Rio Grande Slam!” cries King in orgasmic fashion as Magnifico breathes a small sigh of relief, but doesn’t let it show as he physically dust himself off, showing disdain for Davenport much to the crowd’s anger as he throws himself on the actor’s chest. “Lifting up a man the size of Davenport is quite a feat, but our champ can do anything!” ONE TWO THR-SHOULDER UP! “But what he can’t do, is put our Davenport away!” replies Comet with renewed hope as Davenport rolls out to the canvas, finding solace as he clutches the bottom rope as if it were an Oscar. “What do you mean ‘our’ Davenport? This idiot is only out for himself! He feeds off the fans, he needs them to spur him on, but couldn’t care less about them when all is said and done. Granted, neither could I, but at least I have a little thing called talent and skill to fall back on.” “And which talents are they? How to most effectively hit your opponent in the nether regions?” Comet responds as King glares at him with a cold stare. With Davenport’s futile efforts stifled again, Magnifico takes his time, waiting for his opponent to move, knowing he can’t depend on the safety the ropes grant him for long. While the crowd boos mercilessly in the background, the World Champion simply grins, feeling unstoppable as his larger foe hauls his sorry carcass off the canvas. Suddenly, Magnifico takes an aggressive stance, with one foot forward, as if he intends to charge across the ring and run head first into the battle-worn actor! The crowd, for a solitary moment, begins to cheer; perhaps thinking Magnifico wants to put on a spectacular show again! But as soon as the Mexican approaches the ropes, and a swaying Davenport, he stops dead, and shakes his head to the fans! OOOOOOOOOOOOOO! “Ha-HA!” laughs King, despite being the only one in the entire arena. “Magnifico’s just toying with Davenport and the fans at this point and rightfully so. Davenport’s a fool if he ever thought he could compete against the Champion, and the fans are fools for believing in him.” The Mexican Champion salutes his flag perched in the turnbuckles before nailing Wes with a flurry of right hands, staggering him even more. Satisfied with his work, ELM throws Wes’ arm over his shoulder and takes a tight grip on his belt! “And now Magnifico will prove that his opponent’s can be any size, and he’ll still match them!” gushes King as Magnifico takes a deep breath before heaving Wes up… but the actor holds firm! Magnifico tries again, but only gets the same result! Annoyed and eager to get out of Phoenix as soon as possible, Magnifico sends a few stiff shots into Davenport’s kidneys, softening him up, allowing him to lift him up… and over the top rope! … But Wes skins the cat, and breaks free from Magnifico, landing behind him! Almost instantly, Davenport grabs Magnifico by the waist, attempting to yank him off the canvas with a German Suplex, but Magnifico thinks fast, grabbing onto the top rope in front of him and blocking Wes’ best efforts. Davenport keeps trying until Magnifico swats the actor away with a few well-aimed back elbows, catching Wes on the nose. As he stumbles backward, a slight trickle of blood escaping, Magnifico grabs hold of the top rope and springs into the air, kicking his legs out and placing them on Davenport’s shoulders! The ropes violently shimmer and shake as Magnifico starts to yank on them, building some momentum as he prepares to send Davenport through the ropes with a head scissors, but Wes denies him by grabbing his legs and throwing him HIGH into the air and sailing over the top rope! Just as the actor thinks he’s in the clear and wipes the sweat from his brow, he hears the thud of feet on canvas, and turns around to find ELM standing on the apron, safe and sound! Magnifico suddenly leaps up onto the top rope, balancing perfectly and springing off with ease, landing on Wes’ shoulders and flipping him over with a Hurricanrana! A torrent of jeers rain down on Magnifico, but he cares little as Davenport skids away and he scurries after the actor, hooking him by the leg! ONE TWO THRRRREEE-KICK OUT! ELM, slightly out of breath, glares up at referee Placeholder, who swallows hard but insists it was only a two count. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” is all ELM says as he gets to his feet, seemingly bored of it all, barely noticing Davenport has crawled to the opposite corner, picking himself up off the mat. The Champion charges across the ring with blistering pace, his crosshairs set on Davenport as he throws his whole body forward with a spear… that misses, and the momentum sends Magnifico’s shoulder straight into the ring post! The bone crunching impact only serves to excite the crowd as they cheer, their enthusiasm returning as they chant-- DAVEN-PORT! DAVEN-PORT! --and the actor hears it, even if he’s still groggy. ELM, for once, is the one moaning in pain as he is suddenly spun around and shoved between Davenport’s legs! Magnifico is hoisted high into the air, on top of Davenport’s shoulders as the crowd rise from their seats! Magnifico tries to fight back, firing a string of forearm blows to the top of his head, causing Wes to stagger, but the Mexican’s efforts are for naught as— WHAM! --Davenport throws Magnifico off his shoulders and down to the canvas, right on the point of his shoulder! “Fantastic work!” Comet gushes, getting on King’s nerves. “Davenport got his first SWF win with just the same combination, and he may just win his first World Title with it too!” The actor keeps hold of Magnifico, though the constant blows to the head make it hard to do so. Placeholder slides over as quick as he can as he counts— ONE TWO-NO! Magnifico pushes out with his powerful legs at a two count, causing Davenport to almost whimper to himself! “Do you really think Magnifico would go down that easily?” scoffs King. “Better men have tried and failed, and so will Davenport, no matter how powerful he may be.” “But he’s given himself another chance,” counters Comet. “The vile Luchadore has dominated, I’ll admit, but it shows something about Wes’ character and strength of will that he won’t go down, even if things seem hopeless!” Davenport crawls away on all fours, shaking his head repeatedly, wondering how he got into this position in the first place and why everything has to be so damn hard. Magnifico crawls in the opposite direction, shaking his arm to get the feeling back, knowing this is only a temporary set back. As the two men climb back to their feet respectively, they turn to meet each other. Magnifico can sense Davenport’s weakness and just smiles at the actor coyly. Wes, lost and confused, does the first thing that comes to mind… which is to charge! The crowd reaches a fever pitch as Davenport steps forward and slams his bicep against ELM’s jaw with a European Uppercut, before staggering him with a couple more, taking the fight to the World Champion. The actor takes ELM by the arm and almost pulls it from its socket as he whips the Mexican into the strands, waiting in ambush for his return. The actor ducks his head, but it proves to be too soon as Magnifico telegraphs it and counters with a rising kick to the face! Davenport fears for his beautiful features while Magnifico immediately grabs Wes’ left arm, twisting it around and locking in a Chickenwing! ELM clutches Davenport’s head with his free arm as Comet cries, “its Montezuma’s Revenge!” But sensing the imminent threat, Davenport finally forgets about his own aesthetics and head butts Magnifico! The Champion tries to keep hold, but Wes skull smashes against his forehead, which is even too much for Magnifico to handle! As ELM turns and stumbles, Davenport snatches him up, grabbing his neck and legs, ducking his head and lifting Magnifico up onto his shoulders with a Torture Rack! Cheers break out as Davenport is about to put Magnifico through hell, but the Mexican has no desire for that, and kicks and flays about wildly! Just as it seems he might just escape, Davenport thinks on his feet and lifts Magnifico off his shoulders, dropping him head first onto his knee! As various lumps develop on ELM’s cranium and his vision blurs, Davenport grabs him around the neck, falling to the mat and drilling Magnifico’s head into the canvas! The Champion stares up at the arena lights, refusing to believe what’s happening, but reality hits him as Davenport falls on his chest, grinding his forearm into Magnifico’s face! ONE TWO THHHRRRRREEEE-SHOULDER UP! “Well, it’s not such a wonderful DDT after all,” mocks King as Davenport crawls away from the wreckage. “If this is the best offense Davenport can muster, then he doesn’t have a hope in hell!” The actor struggles to his feet, but hearing the fans receive him so warmly inspires him to soldier on. Davenport reaches down and grabs Magnifico by the arm, yanking the Mexican onto his feet, before pulling him in close and hitting a knee lift to his stomach! Keeping hold of the arm, Davenport shoves it underneath ELM and between his legs, before pulling back on his opposite arm! Wes says a little prayer before hoisting Magnifico into the air in the Pumphandle position, lifting him onto his shoulder! But before he can plant ELM into the canvas, the Mexican squirms, causing Davenport to fall off balance! The actor stumbles into the ropes behind him, allowing ELM to land on the apron without harm. As Davenport turns back around to meet him, Magnifico ducks between the ropes and shoots forward, catching Wes in the ribcage. With the actor doubled over, Magnifico springs over the ropes and over the man himself, grabbing him by the legs and pulling him down with a Sunset Flip… No! Davenport holds fast, digging in as he reaches down to pummel the Champion, but the crafty cockroach slinks through his legs and Davenport hits nothing but canvas! Frustrated, the actor swings wildly with a right hand, but Magnifico catches him in the ribs with another shoulder charge. Magnifico acts as quickly as possible, grabbing Davenport’s neck with one arm, his leg with the other and hopping once before pulling him upward and… BAM! … Planting him on the back of his head with a Fisherman Buster! BOOOOOOOOOOO! “And the Barrio Buster has Davenport done and dusted!” King smirks, showing Comet’s not the only one with alliteration skills. “The awesome leverage Magnifico has just shows why he’s on top of the mountain right now. He could be stymied by his physical limitations, but he works around them and-“ “Darn it King, put a sock in it!” Comet shouts, much to everyone’s surprise. “Magnifico is a great wrestler, we all know that! I’m just so tired of hearing about him, and it breaks my heart to see such a man hold our World Title! Even if Davenport fails, someone else will be there to right the wrongs!” Davenport lies flat on his back, his eyes closed and his mind seemingly gone wandering. Magnifico runs a hand through his hair, looking down at his palm to find it smeared with blood. The Champion grunts as he spits in Davenport’s face before hooking him by the leg, the end only three seconds away… ONE TWO THHHHHRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! … But Davenport kicks out at the last possible second to a massive wave of delirious cheers! RRRRRRRAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! “… But it may not yet come to that!” Comet cries happily. “By Zeus, Davenport just refuses to lie down! He’s not just a mere actor anymore King!” “He’s a damn fool is what he is,” King fires back. “He’s survived, somehow, but he hasn’t proved to me that he can win. Sooner or later, it will all come to an end.” The fans refuse to listen to King, as usual, and still cheer their hearts out. The Luchadore Champion pulls himself to his feet, still not impressed with Davenport in the slightest. ELM grabs Davenport by the hair and forces him to his feet, leaving the beaten and bloodied actor stooped over, a defeated man. Magnifico grins as he fires off a forearm shot, looking to the crowd to see their reaction. BOOOOOOOOOOOO! Magnifico scoffs as he fires off another shot, and another! He decides to end it now as he takes Davenport by the hand and whips him into the strands, licking his lips as the actor returns in shaky fashion. Magnifico suddenly drops to the canvas in a flash, taking Wes down with a picture perfect Drop Toe Hold, while locking in a Crossface at the exact same time! A muted gasp is heard from the crowd as Davenport hits the mat, and Magnifico attempts to lock in the dreaded Sangria Stretch! “YES!” cries King as every fan in the arena rises from their seats, knowing that the end is near for Davenport. “Magnifico, INSULTED by the mere presence of an actor in his ring, will humiliate him in front of the entire world by making the bastard tap! It’s perfect; I can’t imagine a better ending.” Magnifico takes his time applying the move, making sure Davenport’s left leg is snared between his ankles’s as he leans forward, his fingers almost touching as he wrenches back on Davenport’s neck. The crowd do all they can to inspire Davenport— DAVEN-PORT! DAVEN-PORT! DAVEN-PORT! --but their best efforts are to no avail as the World Champion’s hands finally clasp together, and the hold is locked in tight as Davenport flails about like a madman, the pain simply excruciating! “This cannot be!” replies an almost grief-stricken Comet, overacting almost as much as Wes as he writhes about in pain on the canvas. “Another favorite is about to fall to the malicious Mexican, the loathsome Luchadore, the—“ “Pipe down, freak, I want to enjoy this moment!” King shouts as his partner shakes his head, watching Davenport cry out in pain and moan through the agony like in many of his movies, but this isn’t any movie, and the pain he suffers through is real. Magnifico takes great delight in this as a broad smile appears on his face, giving Wes friendly words of advice, namely to “Give the fuck up” as referee Placeholder drops to the mat, mere inches from Davenport’s face, asking him if he’ll submit. DAVEN-PORT! DAVEN-PORT! DAVEN-PORT! Despite the spit smattering across his face, and the pain shooting through his body, Davenport grits his teeth and bears it. “I’m surprised,” King smugly admits, “I thought Davenport would have given up the second Magnifico locked in the hold, but I guess even B-Movie hacks have their pride, huh?“ Suddenly, Placeholder scurries away as Davenport plants both of his big, sweaty palms into the canvas. Magnifico looks surprised, but takes it as a sign that he’ll no doubt give up soon, but much to his shock, Wes pushes his right leg off the mat, cringing as Magnifico tightens his hold on his left. With a show of strength, he pushes off the canvas with his right hand and left leg, leaving his left hand firmly planted against the canvas. “… What the hell—“ With little warning, Davenport suddenly pushes himself off the mat and rolls out to the side with Magnifico STILL clinging on! The plucky Mexican, the hold still applied, finds Davenport hurl body on top of his, arching his back and pressing his weight down on Magnifico’s shoulders as Placeholder slides over for the count, the crowd still dumbstruck- ONE Shocked he’s in such a position, Magnifico lets go of Davenport’s neck… TWO … But this only causes Davenport to fall on top of Magnifico, his dead weight collapsing against his chest… …Magnifico tries desperately to pry his shoulder loose… THHHRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! The crowd can scarcely believe their eyes as Magnifico shoots his arm into the air, but it’s too late! Referee Placeholder, shocked himself, remembers his duties as he springs to his feet and calls for the bell! *DING! DING! DING!* King’s jaw drops. “What… just happened?” … The crowd’s jubilation is overwhelming as Funyon grabs his mic, proudly announcing, “Here is your winner… and the… NEW! S-W-F World Heavyweight Champion… WES DAAAAVVVVEEEEEENNNNNNPPOOOORRRRRT!” “It’s over! Wes did it!” Comet deliriously cries as Davenport rolls out to the side and falls in a big heap on the concrete floor outside as “Get Over It” begins to blare through the speakers! Magnifico sits up, looking all around him and finding the crowd in a frenzy! The realization finally sinks in as Placeholder takes the World Title all the way around the ring and handing it to Wes Davenport as he wearily climbs onto his feet. Neither Magnifico, nor Wes himself, can believe what just happened. “Oh no…” King mutters as Comet leans over with a huge, satisfied grin on his dial. “Don’t you start—“ “Finding it a little hard to believe my friend?” responds Comet, remembering King’s smug spiel at the conclusion of the last Pay Per View. “I guess I’ll explain it to you!” “Ugh…” “You see,“ begins Comet, “Magnifico seemingly had the match won. With Davenport locked in the Sangria Stretch, who wouldn’t believe that? But our Davenport pulled yet another crafty veteran maneuver out of his hat, those so-called “flukes” of yours, and countered just as Magnifico did at the Clusterfeck against JJ Johnson, reversing the submission into a pin! With Magnifico’s giant ego, he could never in his wildest dreams think that Wes would pull off such a counter!” “But believe it or not,” continues the Superhero as Davenport looks down at his newly won gold, a wave of satisfaction and joy overcoming him, “that man did what no one else could, and is our new World Champion!” “This is a nightmare, it has to be,” King replies, watching Davenport slowly raise the title above his head to the sheer delight of the fans, “Hit me, Comet, wake me the hell up!” A loud superhero slap is heard, followed by a high-pitched kingly yelp as Magnifico stamps across the squared circle, the incensed Mexican leaning over the ropes and cursing a blue streak at both the referee and Davenport, and doesn’t stop until Wes reaches the top of the stage. Davenport pivots around, but completely ignores his defeated opponent; instead, he gazes out at the sea of screaming fans, holding his newly won title aloft for all to see! “Look at him, I bet he feels on top of the world,” remarks King, a bitter taste left in his mouth, “but he better not get used to this. Tonight was just a freak occurrence, like god finally threw him a bone after so many years of disappointment, but you better believe that Magnifico isn’t going to forget an actor of all people be the one to hold HIS title.” “Cram it, King!” shouts Comet, surprising King with his strong language. “What was it you said, as Magnifico left with his title at the Clusterfeck? He’ll hold that title until someone outsmarts him, and guess what my friend, somebody did!” “… And I also said, until someone ‘outfights’ him, and Davenport sure as hell didn’t do that tonight. When Magnifico gets his rematch, and he WILL get his rematch, he’ll be prepared, and Davenport will show his true colors as a one-trick pony.” “I think I remember you saying that shortly after the Clusterfeck too,” Comet answers with a sly grin, causing King to grumble as in the ring, Magnifico lets go of the ropes and shakes his head, his hands on his hips. He replays the moments leading up to his defeat over and over, angry at himself most of all, and his own carelessness. He looks back up at Wes Davenport who backs away slowly, shouting “There’s so many people I have to thank!” before the music gets louder and he’s whisked away by SWF staff. In the ring, the former World Champion clenches his fist. The exuberant smile we’ve all come to know is now gone, along with his title… FADE OUT SWF From the Fire, March 14th, 2006 © Riot Act Productions. All rights reserved. The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation: "Raising Workrate by Typing Faster."