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The Toledo Arena is as alive as ever as we come back from commercial break, the Smarkdown theme pumping out of the speakers as the camera pans around the audience, picking up such signs as “A NEGATIVE TIMES A NEGATIVE IS STILL A NEGATIVE”, featuring pictures of Landon Maddix and JJ Johnson, “I CAN SMELL BRUCE FROM HERE”, and “MAGS HEARTS FAGS”. Almost as witty as the Indianapolis crowd. “Hello, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome back to Smarkdown!” announces the Miami Menace that is Longdogger Pete. “We’ve already had some fantastic action-“ “And Spike Jenkins!” interrupts King. “-and right now,” says the ever-annoyed LDP, “we have a unique matchup.” The camera shot changes to a graphic featuring Landon Maddix and JJ Johnson, the blonde and handsome leader of Cucaracha Internacional a harsh contrast to Johnson’s rugged, jet-black haired look. “Two stablemates face off,” begins Pete, “in a match that so heavily favors one competitor that I’ll be shocked beyond shock if the other pulls it out.” “No duh, Pete,” says King, with a slight scowl on his face. “Landon, for lack of a better term, sucks. He can handle himself occasionally, but the first time he goes for his sheer-drop flip-flop whatever-the-fuck, Johnson will take him down.” “I agree wholeheartedly. I don’t like to make predictions, but I have to say that Johnson has this one in the bag. Unless, of course, Landon learned to wrestle.” As King laughs at such an absurd statement, a familiar three-word phrase hits over the PA. “PREPARE…FOR…LANDON!!” …WAAAAHHHH… *DUM DUM* “BOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Megalomaniac” bursts out of the speakers, the hard guitar strikes and rhythmic drum beats rolling over the Toledo crowd as the challenger, Landon Maddix, steps out from behind the curtain. There’s some confusion as to his attire, which appears to be a more traditional long-tights look, but other than that it’s nothin’ but jeers for La Cucaracha as he makes his way down to the ring, leaping up onto the apron and looking out over the audience before stepping through the ropes and ditching his jacket before warming up. He’s slightly nervous about the upcoming match, just as Zyon was, but realizes that Johnson will only try to hurt him if Landon tries to hurt him first. And hoping it doesn’t come to that is his last thought… …before the lights drop out. “HE HAS NOT CONFESSED, HE HAS MADE NO STATEMENT, CHARGES OF MURDER HAVE BEEN ACCEPTED AGAINST HIM.” The lights strike a brilliant red and white before fading back down, and the Smarktron kicks up, showing various highlights; dropping Scott Pretzler on his head with a dragon suplex, taking to the sky for an Air Canada on Manson, and wrapping Zyon spine-first around the ring post with an Exploder. The lights strike up again, and this time smoke can be seen billowing out of the stage as the lights rise up to a deep red, and hover there ominously before finally… RRRRRAAAAAAAHHH!!!!! …Burton C. Bell’s demonic growl comes tearing out of the speakers, and the crowd immediately begins to jeer as a figure strides through the smoke, title on shoulder, jacket on upper body, and grin on face. Striding down the ramp, he stares into the ring at Landon, and smiles. An actual smile, and this both reassures and unnerves La Cucaracha. Johnson strides up the steps, into the ring, and up he goes onto the second rope, throwing his arms wide in a crucifix as his theme continues to assault the eardrums of the Toledo crowd. He steps down, unzips his jacket, hands his title belt to referee Blaine Kalem, and simply sits back in the corner as Funyon slides into the ring. Landon does the same, and the announcer clears his throat before bringing the microphone up to his mouth. “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is for the SWF Cruiserweight Championship, and it is to be contested under Pure Wrestling rules!” “YEEEAAHHH!!” “Here are the rules. Each competitor receives three rope breaks, to be used at any time throughout the match. HOWEVER, once those rope breaks are gone, the competitor cannot use the ropes to break a submission hold, or to save himself from a pin fall. As such, using the ropes for leverage and holding the opponent in a rope-based submission then becomes legal. Punches to the head are illegal, and will cost the offender a rope break, or, if he is out of rope breaks, a disqualification. There is a twenty count on the outside, and if Johnson is disqualified or counted out, the title DOES change hands!” booms Funyon, taking a few deep breaths as the crowd cheers before beginning his intros. “Introducing first, on my right, the challenger. In the black tights, with the red trim, he stands five feet ten inches tall, and weighs in tonight at 224 pounds…from Huron, South Dakota, by way of Madrid, Spain…LANDON! LA CUCARACHAAA! MAAAAADDIIIIIIXXX!!!” “BOOOOOOOO!” Landon smirks a little, and throws his arms out to his side upon hearing his name, but he doesn’t engage in any of the mannerisms he did when he won the World Title almost a year ago. “And his opponent, on my left, the champion. In the red trunks, with the white trim, he stands six feet one inch tall, and weighs in tonight at 219 pounds…from Windsor, Ontario, Canada, he is the 112-day reigning AND DEFENDING SWF Cruiserweight Champion…J! J! JOOOOHNNNNSOONNNN!!” “BOOOOOOOO!!” DING DING DING! -----Rope Breaks Remaining----- Maddix: 3 Johnson: 3 And with a call for the bell, the match is underway. Johnson and Landon advance to the center and shake hands, and then Landon offers his hand up for a Greco-Roman knuckle lock. Johnson accepts with one hand, and twists under the extended arm of Landon before coming back up with a hammerlock. Landon looks lost, but after a moment of thinking realizes that Johnson is not holding the hammerlock as tight as he could, and so he ducks down and comes back up behind Johnson with his own hammerlock. Landon, as opposed to Johnson’s slacking, cinches the hold up as tight as he can, but the Canadian knows a better counter, and grabs Landon’s head with his left arm before leaping into the air and dropping to his knees, bringing Landon over with a flying snapmare. Johnson then slides his body until he’s perpendicular to Landon and, securing a chickenwing on The Next Generation, leverages him over his body onto his shoulders for the first cover of the match! ONE! T-But Landon, for all of his wrestling shortcomings, knows how to escape such an elementary pin, and thrusts his legs to the side. The momentum rolls him both off of his shoulders and out of the chickenwing, and he’s quick to shoot forward and grab Johnson in a the cravate. “Well, I don’t like La Cucaracha, but I do have to respect the improvements he’s made in his mat game,” nods Pete, his voice showing interest as Johnson hesitates, thinking up a plan to get out of this ridiculously simple hold. “Please, Pete. Learning how to apply a cravate is not ‘improvements he’s made in his mat game’. He’s just as spotty as ever, only now he’s ground spotty,” says King, “if that makes any sense.” Having obviously decided on a solution, Johnson shoots his arm up between his face and Maddix’s right arm, and with a hard wrench backwards, has Landon caught in a top wristlock. It takes the Canadian a while, but then the opportunity staring him in the face registers, and he quickly turns on his tail before wrapping his right arm around Landon’s neck and grabbing the wristlocked arm, releasing with his other arm. But Landon felt the Anaconda Vice in “training camp”, and remembers how they had to take a break for 10 minutes while he iced his shoulder down after a mere 15 seconds in the hold. And so he scrambles, doing anything he can to make Johnson’s grip impossible, and finally takes his left hand and delivers a few swift punches to the Canadian’s ribs. “See how he attacks the ribs with those punches,” Pete notes. “He knows he can’t punch Johnson in the head, or he gives up a rope break that, considering who he’s in against, could be crucial. Hell, if he were up against Ghost Machine, they could be crucial, because he’s not used to rope breaks being unrenewable resources.” Johnson lets go, but Landon is a little quicker to react, and thinking back to JJ and Hawke’s scrimmages that he was required to take notes on (he doodled instead, and scrambled furiously to get something down when he saw that Johnson had Jay in a rear naked choke), swings his legs up around the champion’s arm and forces Johnson onto his back before trying to pull the arm tight for a juji-gatame! The crowd noise level rises as they think this match between their enemies is over, but it quickly dies down, as Johnson sits up and, with solely his right arm, pulls Landon to a seated position… *BAM!* …before nailing him with a hard punch to the face! La Cucaracha lets go, but Johnson immediately realizes what he’s done, and his eyes go wide as he noticeably swears, Kalem scolding him. “And that’s the first rope break gone!” shouts Pete as Maddix grabs at his eye. -----Rope Breaks Remaining----- Maddix: 3 Johnson: 2 Landon recovers quickly from the punch, and looks at Johnson with disbelief in his eyes. Johnson shrugs and gives him an apologetic look, and Maddix nods…before scrambling behind Johnson with the same chickenwing rollup that the champion used earlier! ONE! But Johnson is out before Landon was, and he also recovers faster than Landon did, scrambling forward and securing a sleeper on the Next Generation before wrenching his arm back, locking hands and squeezing with a Buffalo Sleeper! “Buffalo Sleeper!” cries Pete. “Shades of Danny Williams with that choke hold, and it’s only a matter of time before it’s lights-out for Maddix!” “A strike monkey steals a move from a roid monkey to put down a spot monkey. And so, the cycle begins again,” says King, sitting back with a zen look in his eyes. You know, because what he said was so deep. Landon’s eyes aren’t glassing over, though. In fact, it doesn’t seem like he’s short on air at all. He is, however, grabbing at his arm and gritting his teeth, and it is then that everyone in the Toledo Arena realizes that the hold is not for choking, but for digging away at La Cucaracha’s shoulder. The Canadian doesn’t get to wrench on the arm long, though, because a quick scan of the ring by The Future reveals to him that the ropes are within reach of his leg, and he’s glad to trade a rope break for a right arm that functions. And so over the bottom rope it goes. -----Rope Breaks Remaining----- Maddix 2 Johnson 2 Johnson breaks immediately, but quickly goes back on the attack, crawling over to where Landon lies before standing, twisting La Cucaracha’s arm into a familiar position, and diving over with an inverted Magistral Cradle! ONE! TWO! But Landon sees that the ref isn’t looking, and is quick to shoot his available thumb into the Ultimate Fighter’s eye. “BOOOOOOO!!” “Hey, that’s not fair! That was probably the end of the match right there!” shouts Pete, the audience at home half expecting him to begin ranting about ‘justice’ and Pepsi Max. But King, for all of his Landon hating, is not nearly as upset. In fact, he’s smiling. Because he’s looking right at Johnson on the monitor, looking at his facial expression. He’s seen that facial expression before. And so he continues to smile. Because Landon is in trouble. Maddix sits up, smiling contentedly as a suspicious Kalem arches an eyebrow. He didn’t see anything, though, and so he can’t call anything. Knowing this, Landon smirks, then turns around... ...and comes nose-to-nose with the champion. The smile drops off of Landon’s face at about the same time his eyes go wide, and he has little time to react... *CRACK!* ...when Johnson draws his arm back and smashes him with an elbow! La Cucaracha staggers, and the Canadian follows up by nonchalantly placing his boot on Landon’s chest and, with a simple thrust, shoving Maddix on his ass. The crowd chuckles at this, and the Next Generation looks up at his stablemate with a slightly shocked look as he rubs his cheekbone where the elbow cracked him. To the surprise and disappointment of the audience, Johnson does not kick La Cucaracha’s head clean off of his shoulders. Instead, he mouths “Don’t do that again,” and extends a hand to Maddix, which he gladly accepts. With a tug, La Cucaracha is on his feet, and Johnson extends his hand again, this time for a test of strength. “WHAT?!” screams King, irate at Johnson’s reaction...or lack thereof. “AN ELBOW? WHAT’S AN ELBOW GOING TO TEACH HIM?! RIP HIS DAMN FACE OFF!” “You’ll have to pardon my partner, ladies and gentlemen,” says Pete, looking right at the camera. “He’s...he’s passionate about this sort of thing.” Landon accepts the test of strength, but once again, the lock is only on one hand before somebody reacts. It’s Johnson again, and instead of ducking under Landon’s arm, he reaches up with the other hand and twists, pulling the challenger’s arm over his shoulder as he thrusts his hip, knocking La Cucaracha off balance and throwing him down onto his back with an ippon-seoinage! The Next Generation gets the wind knocked out of him, and Johnson uses this to his advantage, dropping down and placing both legs across Landon’s chest before pulling back with a juji-gatame of his own! “JUJI-GATAME! AND THIS ISN’T ONE LANDON PULLED OUT OF HIS ASS, THIS IS ONE APPLIED BY A BLACK BELT JUDOKA!” shouts Pete, both he and the audience rising out of their seat as Maddix’ eyes bug out of their head. “Finally, Johnson shows just how easy it is to squash a cockroach!” chuckles King, but he ends up disappointed, as Landon has the ring presence to squirm the two feet that would allow him to drape a leg over the bottom rope for the second time in the match. -----Rope Breaks Remaining----- Maddix 1 Johnson 2 Johnson releases the hold and performs a back roll, then grabs a now-sitting upright Maddix around the waist and tugging him to his feet. Landon is groggy, but soon realizes what’s going on, and lunges forward and latches onto the ropes again, fully prepared to do anything it takes to keep Johnson from dumping him on his head! ...but Johnson isn’t pulling. He’s just holding on. Maddix, understandably, is confused, and takes a moment to ponder why before referee Blaine Kalem informs him. “Hey! That’s it, Maddix! No more rope breaks!” ----Rope Breaks Remaining----- Maddix 0 Johnson 2 And Landon’s jaw drops. He turns around, jaw still unhinged, and looks straight at JJ Johnson, who is chuckling lightheartedly. But Landon, who is now beginning to grow increasingly angry, does not see lighthearted chuckling. He sees Johnson laughing at him. And he’ll be damned if he’s going to take that from Jimmy McNo-Voice. So, now seething with rage, he stomps up to a still-chuckling Johnson. Draws his hand back. *SMAAA-AAA-AAACKK!!!!* “OOOOOHHHHHHHH!!!” And signs his own death warrant. “Well...well THAT was unexpected,” mutters Pete, slightly shocked as Johnson’s head snaps to the right, his face already beginning to redden in the shape of a hand. “I was HOPING this would happen!” says King, his day getting a whole lot brighter. Johnson, his facial expression now blank - which is never a good thing - swivels his head slooowwwlllyyy back around to face La Cucaracha. Maddix doesn’t back down, although he certainly looks glad he’s wearing dark-colored tights. Unfortunately, he’s not wearing a helmet. *CRACK!* “YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHH!!!” A fact that Johnson quickly takes advantage of with a wicked elbow smash! Maddix is caught off-guard, but he rolls to his feet and rushes the Canadian, a fact that Johnson takes advantage of with a shotgun lariat! *SSSSSHHHH!* That misses! Landon ducks under the fast-flying forearm and spins on the spot, leaping up and wrapping Johnson with a chinlock as he plunges his knees into the Canadian’s lower spine and falls back... *BANG!* ...torquing his back with Mount Crushmore! Johnson rolls off of Maddix’s legs with a pained look on his face, but Landon isn’t about to let up now, so he quickly snares Johnson’s head in another cravate! The Canadian scoots himself up to one knee as La Cucaracha wrenches away, and since the hold isn’t affecting...well, anything, the champion takes some time to think and recover. “And now Maddix is in control! He caught Johnson off-guard with that lungblower, and he’s probably trying to get Johnson to cool off. I know I would be,” says Pete. Johnson seems to be calmed down, but some in the audience ponder just how effective the cravate really is, and whether or not it affects brain function. Normally, this would be a ridiculous thought, but it gains a lot more founding when Johnson reaches out and grabs the middle rope. “YEEE...” The fans begin to cheer, but it just becomes a collective “huh?” as Kalem steps in and orders an equally confused Maddix to break the “hold.” ----Rope Breaks Remaining----- Maddix 0 Johnson 1 The Next Generation breaks the hold and stands up, eyeing his stablemate suspiciously as Johnson shakes his head, apparently trying to shake off the effects of as dreaded a hold as the cravate. But he’s quickly distracted. *CRACK!* As with a thrust upward that makes some in the crowd cry “SHORYUKEN!”, Johnson blasts Maddix in the jaw with an elbow smash! La Cucaracha’s head snaps back as he turns around, stumbling towards the corner, but Johnson is too quick, dashing in and securing a half nelson! “YEEEAAAAAAHHH!!” “Johnson going for a half-nelson suplex? That could end it right here!” cries Pete. “That could break Landon’s neck!” grins a never-been-happier-about-a-prospect King. But Landon knows both of these things, and so before Johnson can secure his other arm he spins, catching JOHNSON in a half nelson! Instead of trying for a suplex, though, he brings the nelsoned arm down between Johnson’s legs, grabs that with his other hand, and immediately puts his arm across Johnson’s chest! “Landon could be calling for an Exploder ‘98 here!” shouts the still-standing Pete. Landon WAS calling for an Exploder ‘98, but Johnson has other ideas, elbowing Landon in the temple until the Next Generation releases his chest. Maddix still has a grip on the pumphandle, but that’s nothing Johnson’s subsequent roll forward doesn’t solve, and he quickly gets to his feet before using the arm he’s got a hold of to tug Maddix into his grasp and get HIM in position for an Exploder! However, La Cucaracha has better plans than to be Explodered, and so he reaches out for the top rope, knowing that although he’s out of rope breaks, he can at least prevent Johnson from throwing him. *SMAACK!!* Johnson, however, is on guard, and so he paintbrushes Landon with an open-handed slap! Maddix is understandably distracted, but still has his arm out reaching for the ropes. And so the Canadian grabs the arm, tucks it between La Cucaracha’s legs, and throws Landon back towards the center of the ring! *BANG!* “EXPPLLOOODDAAAHHH NIIINNNEETTYYYY-EEEIIIIGGHHHHTTT~!” screams Pete, drawing his syllables out so long that he has to take a breath between “ninety” and “eight” as the Next Generation comes crashing down on his head and neck in the center of the ring! Johnson scrambles over and makes the cover on the dazed Cockroach! ONE! TWO! TH-NO! The Exploder ‘98 may be a devastating move, but it does nobody any good when the only real damage so far on the victim is two elbows and a few holds. Johnson doesn’t miss a beat, though, grabbing the arm that Maddix shot off the canvas and wrapping his legs around it, and pulling back! “YEEEAAAHHH!!!” “JUJI-GATAME! JUJI-GATAME!” shouts Pete, but his shouting is for naught, as Landon quickly locks his hands together, preventing the arm-breaking submission from being applied! Johnson tugs as hard as he can, but Maddix is doing everything he can to keep his arms together. La Cucaracha realizes that Johnson isn’t playing around anymore, and that his grip is slipping, and so he’s forced to think. And think he does, back to the training sessions once more, trying to remember Jay’s way of escaping the hold. *TAP TAP TAP TAP* It is then that Maddix realizes that, in this instance, training sessions aren’t going to help in the slightest. So he improvises, swinging his legs up once...twice...and finally, he gathers up the momentum to roll backwards onto his stomach, taking Johnson with him. Naturally, this sudden change of position causes the Canadian to loosen his grip, and Landon takes advantage, shooting forward and applying a facelock! “STF! Maddix with the STF!” shouts Pete, then a look of confusion hits him. “Maddix with the STF?” “I’m confused too, Drain Clogger. I’m confused too.” King may be assuring Pete, but nobody is more caught off guard right now than JJ Johnson. Not only has the hold he was betting on failed, but it actually hurts. He throws elbows behind him, but Landon sits back, and all the elbows hit air. Finally, Johnson realizes he’s expending energy he could be using to escape the maneuver another way. And so, with Landon not sitting far enough up on his back to stop him, Johnson pushes himself up on his hands and begins to crawl. “This sit-back Regal Stretch is dangerous, King! Toxxic used this to beat Mak Francis at Battleground!” informs Pete, sitting up in his chair, ready to leap out. “Yes, but Toxxic was a skilled submission wre...oh, shit. Johnson’s in trouble,” gasps King. Johnson pushes once more, and manages to gain another foot towards the ropes. La Cucaracha torques on the hold, and the pain shooting down the champion’s neck is enough to bring him back down. T Canadian forces himself back up, knowing that he has to live with the pain in order to get to the ropes...and Landon abandons the facelock before rolling to the right and trapping Johnson on his shoulders with a Japanese cradle pin! ONE! T-But Landon’s cover is a bit too enthusiastic, and Johnson is doubled over to the point of his foot being draped over the second rope. “AND THAT’S IT! No more rope breaks for either of them!” shouts Pete as the scoreboard flashes up for the final time. -----Rope Breaks Remaining----- Maddix 0 Johnson 0 Maddix rolls forward and to his feet just as Johnson pulls himself up on the ropes, shaking off the neck pain from the STF. He doesn’t get much chance to recover, though, as Maddix rushes forward and thrusts a boot into his stomach. The Canadian is doubled over for the second time in thirty seconds, and La Cucaracha takes advantage by grabbing him by the hair and... *SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMACK!* ...unleashing a harsh flurry of kicks to Johnson’s face! “Kawada kicks!” shouts Pete. “Boo! Foul! No kicking!” complains King, bringing up rules that, quite frankly, don’t exist. Landon, however, decides that Johnson isn’t weakened enough, and so lets loose with a few more kicks! *SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMA*THWAP!* Unfortunately for Maddix, Johnson can only be stunned for so long, and the Canadian comes to his senses just in time to stop another kick from reaching his face. Johnson then stands upright, spins, and throws another elbow! “ROLLING ELBOW!” screams the Heartbreaker. *THWAP!*? That’s caught! Landon throws the arm away from him, taking Johnson off balance, and takes advantage by thrusting forward with a forearm! “FOREARM SMASH!” cries the Miami Menace. *THWAP!* That’s blocked! La Cucaracha put a little too much power into the strike, and the block cancels out his momentum... *CA-RAACKK!!* ...just long enough for Johnson to spin and turn him into a Picasso with a rolling elbow! The Next Generation staggers back from the blow, and the champion steps back into the ropes before charging forward, leaping into the air... *CA-RRAAACKKK!!!* “YEEEAAHHHH!!!” ...and beheading Maddix with a jumping high kick! “DYNAMIC KICK!” booms the Gambling Man for all the world to hear as Landon goes crashing to the mat, Johnson taking a few steps to cancel out his momentum before turning and diving on top of the Next Generation for a cover. ONE! TWO! THR-NO! Landon shoots a shoulder up! Johnson doesn’t waste time trying for a second cover, because he knows that never works, and instead drags the Next Generation to his feet for his next move. *BANG!* Unfortunately, whatever plans he had in mind are scrambled, along with the rest of his brains, by a desperation Complete Shot from La Cucaracha! Johnson’s face bounces off of the mat, and Landon rolls him over, hooking a leg deep for a cover! ONE! TWO! THR-NO! Johnson mirrors La Cucaracha’s actions from earlier, shooting a shoulder off of the mat before his near-record length reign comes crashing to a halt! Landon doesn’t bother picking Johnson up, instead sprinting to the ropes and coming back… *STOMP!* …burying his feet deep into Johnson’s gut with a double stomp before leaping into the air and… *BANG!* …connecting with a back senton! Johnson grabs at his wounded midsection, but Landon has no time for pity as he shoves the Canadian onto his back before hooking the leg for another cover! ONE! TWO! THREE! NO! Johnson bodily kicks out of this cover, then goes back to holding his stomach as Maddix gets a few moments to think… …and looks at the second rope. “What’s Maddix thinking here?” ponders Pete as La Cucaracha is obviously running a few options through his brain. “Nice try, Pete. But a joke about Maddix thinking won’t cheer me up right now,” sighs King as Johnson slowly starts to recover from his tummy trauma. The Next Generation knows he’s not supposed to do what he’s considering doing. It had been drilled into his head since training camp: for the love of God, don’t try the Crash Landon. Too much risk for too little reward. But now La Cucaracha is having second thoughts. He’s won titles with the Crash Landon. He’s got Johnson on the ropes, and one big move could put him away. Use the Exploder ’98, says a voice in his brain. But Johnson has already blocked that, and he’s already kicked out of the Complete Shot. He’ll be expecting the Land of Nod, and Johnson countered the Shining Wizard so many times in training camp that it’s not even funny. And the prestige of dethroning a long running champion? That HAS to put him in the running for some chance at the World Title. And so, with more trepidation with confidence, Landon hoists himself up to the second rope, and waits. “Maddix going for his signature Crash Landon here, and I daresay that if Johnson takes this, it could be enough to put him and his title reign away,” notes the Miami Menace as Johnson staggers up, his back to the Next Generation as he shakes his head. Then, looking for his opponent but finding nobody, he turns around. Landon casts himself off of the second rope, latches on to Johnson’s shoulders, and swings by. “OOOOHHHHH…” And Johnson, using the combined efforts of his own strength and momentum, shoves him off. “YEEEEAAHHH!!!” Landon stumbles back, about to fall, but Johnson grabs on to his arm to prevent him from taking an embarrassing dive. Then, he takes the arm and pulls Landon towards him, swings his leg up, leaps, spins, rolls forward and… “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!” “JUJI-GATAME! JOHNSON COUNTERS THE CRASH LANDON INTO THE JUJI-GATAME! AND LANDON’S OUT OF ROPE BREAKS!” And so he is, Johnson ripping at his arm like a rabid pit bull. The Next Generation screams, and his pain is only intensified by the fact that the ropes are so close, yet so useless. …wait. Maybe not. Landon gets another idea in his head, and, using all of the pain tolerance he can muster as his elbow begins to tear itself apart, places his feet on the ropes and begins to walk up. “Unique counter to the juji-gatame so far…we’ll have to see how it finishes up,” says Pete. “Landon loses, that’s how it finishes up,” gloats King, but even he doesn’t look so sure as La Cucaracha reaches the top, stacked on his shoulders before pushing off… …and rolling onto his stomach! “YEEEAAAAHHHH!!!” Maddix is understandably confused. Normally, his counters are met with boos. The fans really have no reason to cheer, I mean, an upside-down juji-gatame doesn’t do anybody any good. And then he remembers who he’s in the ring with, and has one final thought as Johnson’s foot snakes its way under his chin. Ah, fuck. Then, Johnson pulls. “FROSTBITE! HA! WHAT’D I TELL YOU PETE! FLIP-FLOPPERY HAS LOST LA CUCARACHA THIS MATCH!” cries King, overjoyed as Landon’s neck is bent at a rather unnatural angle. Maddix reaches out and grabs the bottom rope… …but he’s out of breaks. And he realizes this mere moments before he realizes he only has one option left. *TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP!* “YEEAAAAHHHH!!!” DING DING DING! Johnson breaks the hold immediately, rolling out of the ring as Funyon stands up, trying to catch his breath from the battle he just went through. “HERE IS YOUR WINNER…AND STILL SWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPION…J! J! JOHNSON!” The Canadian strides up the ramp as Maddix makes his way to his knees, glaring down the ramp at the man who just defeated him. Johnson, in return, just shrugs, mouths “Better luck next time”, and turns his back on the Next Generation, striding back to the locker room as we… FADE OUT

Smarkdwon fades in, to see a pudgy manager walk through a curtain, following by his masked apprentice, "The Divine Wind" Akira Kaibatsu. "I know this is a cliché`" Pete rambles "but imagine the difficulty it is to go into a match without knowing your opponent" He finishes. "And he's not even familiar with SWF's past, as he was working in Japan. It could be Edwin MacPhisto and he wouldn't have a clue who the hell it was!" King adds. Kaibatsu rolls his neck, and stretches his arms out as he circles the outside of the ring. Some wrist flailing, by tape checking, and Akira walks up the steel steps, while Kobe waits beside them. The lights in the arena slowly dim down to a faint glow and all the lights focus in on the Smarktron as the sound of a loud siren burst through the darkness. The SWF fans look intently at the giant video screen, wondering who it could be, with the Scott Steiner rip off music. Then the answer comes by way of acronym, as "NBK" flashes over the Smarktron. "Josh Tupper?!" Pete cries disappointed in the surprise. "Yeah . . . that's certainly not Edwin MacPhisto" King continues, certainly not helping. "Pfft, well at least those god awful sirens are gone" Pete is correct on that, the siren is replaced by Twiztidz "Broken Wingz" and the Natural Born Killer comes out of the curtain, with a blast of pyrotechnics. Tupper makes his way down to the ring in a Rocky like trot, expecting a comeback pop. He receives nothing of the sort. "And to my left, in the blue and white trunks . . . fighting out of Sendai Japan . . . he is the DIVIIIIIIIIINE WIND . . . AKIRAAAAAA KAIIIIBATUUUUUU!!!" Funyon announces in his best drag-the-name-on-forever voice. Funyon turns his attention over to the other side of the ring, and looks down at his index card. "Fighting out of Toronto Ontario . . . By way of Edmonton Alberta . . . err . . . AND by way of Ottawa Ontario . . . standing at 6'5 and 299 pounds . . . NATURAL BOOOOORN KILLERRRRRRRRR . . . JOSH TUPPER!" "Wait, where the hell does this guy live" King inquires. "I don't think he knows. None that bell means the match is underway, so let's get this started." Akira dances around Tupper, using his agility to keep him off balance. Akira stutter steps to the left, jukes to the right, a little of everything. But NBK steps in front of Kaibatsu's path, so Akira backs out, and then goes for a spin kick, but whiffs Tupper's head. Both superstars back out. Both grapplers saunter into the middle of the ring, and tie up. Tupper uses his strength to get the advantage with an arm wrench. NBK shows he can do some technical work though, crossing his legs over Akira's arm, and dropping to the ground, putting in a cross arm bar. "If Akira's not careful here, he could under estimate Tupper's real wrestling abilities" Pete warns. "Wrestling abilities? He only had 2 matches for a reason" Akira quickly and easily scrambles to the ropes, breaking the hold. Both men get up, and back out to corners, before getting right back in the center again. They tie up again, with Tupper getting another advantage, putting in a side headlock, and twisting around for a Tiger Spin. NBK glides around Kaibatsu's body, and puts in a front face lock. Akira musters up to get leverage, and make his way to his feet in the hold. Akira then rushes him to the corner, causing another broken hold. "Well, you were right Petey. Tupper's showing a lot more technical prowess than when we last saw him." King admits. After the break the two break up into their corners again, while the camera zooms up on Josh Tupper. The two trot to the center of the ring, and lock hands, a Greco-Roman knuckle lock. Tupper shows more strength and over powers the lock, sending Akira's hands way over his head. From here Tupper sweeps Kaibatsu's legs, for an STO like move. NBK holds on for another arm bar, this one side style. Akira manages to make his way to his feet from here, but this allows NBK to wrench his arm. Akira outsmarts Tupper though, and uses his free hand to grab the ropes, forcing the arm wrench to be broken. "Tupper is showing unbelievable improvements from his last SWF match," Pete compliments. "He's using a whole new style almost," He continues. "Almost? It is a whole new style. He was obviously booked this match to get ready for Bruce . . . so they booked him Tupper. But Tupper wants to impress, so he needs to beat Akira, by throwing him off guard—" "With a whole new style" Pete finishes the sentence for King. Akira holds his hand up, for another Greco-Roman knuckle lock, and Tupper complies, but he is outsmarted by Akira once again, as Kaibatsu whips him into the corner. Akira grasps the middle rope, trapping Josh, and thrusts his shoulder into the gut of the Natural Born Killer. "Akira's showing his first real signs of offense here, in the corner," Pete declares. UGGGH!! UGGGH!! UGGGH Kaibatsu eventually, lets him free, and gives him a slap in the face for what it's worth. Tupper maneuvers his way to get back to his own corner. The come together in the center, like the other tie-ups, and put in a collar and elbow lock up. Tupper uses his strength to force Akira into the corner. Tupper finally releases his inner brawler, and throws knees to the gut of Akira. NBK then whips Akira to the adjacent turnbuckle; Tupper follows . . . SLAAAAPP Tupper hits the clothesline hard, into the turnbuckle, sending Akira to the floor from all the impact! Tupper picks up Akira, and whips him into the ropes. Akira bounces back, and NBK goes for an elbow, but the Divine Wind rolls under it, leaps up, and hits a Missile Dropkick on NBK. Tupper gets up, but he's hit with another one that sends him out of the ring. Akira wastes no motion and goes to the top rope, for a dive to the outside, but the referee stops him, and Tupper roams around outside. Akira plays to the crowd, while Tupper plays to his lungs. NBK gets one last breath in, before rolling into the ring. The two lock up, but Akira releases his hand from the hold, and hits a jab to the forehead of Tupper, followed by a snapmare. Then he runs to the ropes, bounces, and hits a powedrive elbow! Goes for a cover! ONE! TWO!! THRENOOSOCLOSE Tupper gets out of it by sitting up, but all that does is allow Akira to apply a ground hammer lock. This doesn't effect Tupper's movement, so he gets up easily, but Akira can turn it into an arm wrench rather easily, so he does so. Tupper then reverses it, and turns into and arm wrench of his own, followed by a leg sweep, and a ground hammer lock of his own. Tupper than flips him over, and hooks the near leg. ONE! TWO!!! THRENOTQUITE "Akira is barely staying alive here, and we've got a while to go in this match." King says with little faith in the puroresu. Akira slides out of the ring to catch his breath. And then opens up the apron, as if he were to get a weapon. "I guess he's not out there to catch his breath . . ." Pete figures. "Wait . . . what the hell! That's what Great Muta used to do!" King points out, that Akira Kaibatsu is scrambling and UNDER the ring! "What the hell!" Tupper prances all over the canvas keeping an eye on all sides. Ya never know where he might end up! Akira finally ends up at the other side of the ring, and climbs back in. "Enough of these shenanigans, back to the match!" King howls. The two wrestlers put in a Greco-Roman knuckle lock, but it doesn't last long, because Akira kicks NBK in the knee, and throws a knife edged chop his way. This causes Tupper to bend over, which lets Akira throw a tomahawk chop at the back of the neck. NBK doesn't go down though, he's a trooper . . . until Akira throws another knife edged chop at him, and he goes over the top rope . . . but he lands on his feet! NBK pulls Kaibatsu under the rope, and starts to knife edge chop him, against the side of the ring. Then Akira starts to fight back, throwing elbows. They trade blows, one after the other. Elbow, forearm, punch, punch forearm, elbow elbows elbows, elbows. "I'd be surprised if neither ones of these guys had a black eye after this match!" Pete exclaims "Well, Akira's gotta toughen up if he wants to take Blanks belt. And Tupper is just too talentless to do anything else." "Talentless? Did you see him exchange holds with Akira this whole match?" NBK gets the best of the last few forearms, and puts in a front facelock. Then he thrusts backwards and hits a vertical suplex. SEVEN!!! EIGHT!!!!! Tupper rolls in the ring, and then backs out of the ring, to prevent a count out. Tupper than wants to go to his hardcore ways . . . back to his roots, and throws Akira into the crowd! "What the hell is going on?" Pete demands "I can't see a fucking thing!" King is obviously not happy. "Well, ladies and gents, from our angle we have no idea what's going on, so you're just going to have to call it yourselves . . ." "Ahhhh there we go, I can see now, now that Tupper has Akira back inside" Pete sighs. After the vague episode of crowd surfing, it appears NBK was on top, because he has control at the moment, hitting a huge back drop on Akira. EIGHT!!! NINE!!!! Tupper rushes back into the ring, quicker than last time. A double count out does him no good, and wont get him his job back. Referee Nick Soapdish has to start a new count for Akira now that Tupper got back in the ring . . . and Akira takes advantage, catching his breath in the new hardcore style. Finally he rolls back in the ring . . . but he continues his roll all the way to the other side and gets right back out. "What the hell?" Pete questions. Tupper goes over to the side to see what the hell Akira thinks he's doing . . . but as it turns out it was all a trap, and Kaibatsu swipes at the legs of NBK, sending him to his back! "Aha" Pete says, feeling like he's in on some sort of plan. The Divine Wind steps in the ring, and stalks Tupper. Tupper gets up slowly, but Kaibatsu is patient with him. Finally NBK makes his way up to one knee, which let's Akira run, step off his knee, and— ZUP! A huge shining gamenguri! "That's gonna leave a black eye" Pete points out "I think Akira finally realized he doesn't have to put Tupper over . . ." Akira makes a cover, hooking the leg. ONE TWO!! THREEALMOST~! Akira gets up quickly, not discouraged at the near fall. Rather than waiting for Tupper, this time he lifts him up by the hair. Akira throws a toe kick at NBK's gut, and then butterflies his arms. From here he swings out and . . . THWAAANT Josh is planted with It Came From Sendai!! "HUUUGE Fluries of offense from Akira here!" "My god, he's hit two signature moves . . ." Akira decides not to go for a pin fall, and instead storms up the turnbuckle. The Divine Wind shows his speed, and leaps. Lights flash for the Kodack moment . . . CRASHHHHHH "He nails Tupper with the Senton Bomb!" Pete shouts with high flying excitement. "Dick Togo is rolling over in his grave . . ." Akira makes the cover, hooking both legs, counting along with the referee, as the fans do the same. ONE!! TWO! THREOHMYGODSOCLOSE~!~!~ Akira shows a little more frustration here, but not enough to slow him down. Akira picks up NBK and whips him into the corner. Akira walks over there and throws chops Tuppers way. WHOOO! WHOOOO! Akira slows down with the chops, and then starts kicking away. Side kicks to the gut, low kicks to the shin. Kick after kick. After 8 or 9 kicks to the stomach and legs, Akira backs out 2 or 3 feet, and surveys Tuppers face. Then he shuffles and hits a huge kick to the face! This sends Tupper to the ground, on his ass leaning against the turnbuckle. Akira starts to wail more kicks to the fallen Tupper, beating him sensless. Kaibatsu walks across the ring, and steps between the ropes, waiting on the apron. Stalking Tupper, waiting for him to get up from his fallen position in the corner. When NBK finally shows life and begins to make his way to his feet, Akira jumps, and bounces off of the ropes, then throwing his feet out in front for springboard front dropkick! "KENTA style fools!" Pete throws in his smarky comment. "Does KENTA always miss and land on his ass" "No, actually KENTA's pretty good about it." The Natural Born Killer takes advantage of Akira's missed opportunity, by picking him up by the mask, and locking him in a bear hug like position. Then with a sudden thrust, he throws Akira backwards with a belly to belly suplex. Josh stays right on it, once again lifting Akira by the mask. Once up, Tupper aligns himself behind Akira, and grabs him by the head. Then he drops down to the ground for Travesty! NBK makes a nonchalant cover. ONE TWO THRITHINKNOT. "Akira manages to kick out of two big Natural Born Killer moves" Pete points out the obvious for the 5th or 6th time this match, Tupper, visibly pissed off that he couldn't finish the puroresu with a few big moves, grunts and gets right back on the attack. He lifts Akira once again by his mask, which now has a tear in the upper corner. Tupper throws punches at Akira's gut causing him to bend over. Tupper then thrusts Akira's head into his crotch, and does some stereotypical big man taunting. Tupper lifts Akira high above his head . . . and drops Akira, sending making the ring vibrate. "Damn what force on the powerbomb. Coulda broke the ring!" Tupper does some more boig man grunting, followed by a hooked leg cover. ONE TWO THRENOOOOOOOO. Tupper is down right upset at this point, and rightfully so. He made the freaking ring shake! Tupper tries to keep going, and picks up Akira. Tupper has had enough of this Monkey business, and if you though he was grunting before . . . man does he sounds like an ape now. All his signature moves were just no-sold! Akira lays in the corner, still feeling the impact of that Powerbomb. NBK decides this is a good time to end it for good, and heads over to the opposite corner. Tupper crouches, and stalks Kaibatsu from the other side of the ring. Akira slowly, but surely makes his way to his feet, and it is at this time Tupper starts to sprint towards the puroresu. Akira turns around, and uses his super Akira senses, at quickly gets out o the way of the Hit and Run! Tupper's shoulder goes crashing into the steel post! "Tupper slams into that ring post! His shoulder could be completely separated" Pete blurts "This also gives The Divine Wind a chance to bust out a big move. Akira sees the opening, but doesn't know what move to pull out. Normally this would be a "turn to Kobe" moment, but he needs a quicker decision, so out of his ass, he pulls a German Suplex. Akira puts in a rear waist lock, and tries to pull back, but it's taking a lot out of him. Eventually he just falls backwards, and Tupper follows. "Holy crap! Where did Akira find the strength to do that one!" King starts first in the commentary, for seemingly the entire match. "If he can do it to Tupper, he can sure do it to Blank!" "Hey, we haven't talked about Blank all match! What do you think he'll pick?" "I dunno, but I think we'll find out soon" Akira's tried arms carry the rest of his body over to the Natural Born Killer, and make a cover, with not much effort. ONE TWO THRNOO "The weak cover is the result of that" Akira wipes his face thinking of what to pull out. He can't hit the Divine Backbreaker, Tupper's too big. Shining Gameguri couldn't do it, nor the Sendai/ Senton combination. Akira has to expand his arsenal. Akira climbs to the top rope for the second time this match, with a new move up his sleeve. Akira looks weak at the top of the turnbuckle, as he's still weary from getting Tupper up for the German suplex. Akira stalks NBK from the top rope, waiting, and when he finally does get up, Akira takes a leap, and lands split legged over Tupper's head, and thrusts back. "A Top Rope Hurricanrana!" "Is this it?!" Akira makes a stronger cover, hooking the leg. ONE!! TWO THREFOOTONTHEROPE~!~ The entire crowd can tell Akira is disappointed, by his facial expression, but he does not let his emotion at the time carry his in-ring feel. He lifts up Tupper by the hair, and puts him in a cravate. Akira tightens his grip, and runs towards the turnbuckle. Steps on the second rope with his right foot, the top rope with his left, completing a backflip. "AKIRA HIT'S THE DIVINE WIND!!" Akira has a sudden adrenalin rush for this cover, managing to hook both legs. ONE! TWO!! THREE!!! "Tupper can't get a win in his SWF one time return, and Akira looks like he'—" Pete is cut off by a FADE OUT

SWF Smarkdown returns from commercial break and goes straight down to Pete and King. “The next match was scheduled to take place last week, but El Luchadore Magnifico decided to hold back the Cold Front Classic for a week by attacking both men with the Mexican flag!” starts Pete. “But he was right,” retorts King, “Neither of these two men deserve to get another shot at ELM!” “We’ll see about that at the end of this match,” says Pete, “Lets go down to the ring!” Funyon stands in the middle of the ring, microphone in hand as he begins the introductions. “This match is scheduled for one fall and is a first round match of the Cold Front Classic!” booms Funyon. "ALLOW ME TO RE-INTRODUCE MYSELF!" "MY NAME IS..." *BOOM!* “First, making his way to the ring. Weighing in at a total of Two Hundred and Seventy-three pounds! He hails from Cairo, Egypt! He is THE MASKED CRUSAAAAAADERRRRRRRR!!!” Large, maroon pyro goes off and the Masked Crusader steps onto the ramp, walking coldly to the ring. “Spike is supposed to wrestle THAT guy? No chance in hell!” “AND HIS OPPONENT!” Every light in the arena goes to full power as the Smarktron whites out. For a moment the only sound is that of a needle scratching over vinyl... And then *BAM* The crashing guitars of Lamb of God’s “Black Label” send a bolt through the crowd. The drumming sends a jolt throughout the arena, as the pace of the intro begins to pick up. Finally… “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” The high-pitched scream of Randy Blythe breaks through the speakers as the bright white lights begin flashing at the entranceway. As the scream hits the crowd, Spike walks out wearing a black hoodie on, the hood covering most of his face. Spike drops down to one knee, leaving one arm to hang to the ground, while the other is firmly placed on his knee. After a few moments, Spike raises both arms into an “X”, symbolizing his Straight Edge life style. Spike rises to his feet and begins to make his way down the isle towards the ring. “Weighing in at a total of Two Hundred and Twenty pounds! Hailing from Hollywood, California! He is “Hollywood” Spiiiiiiiiike Jeeeeeeenkinnnnnssssssss!” “Both men look ready to attack and not let another run in or any other interruption stop them!” notes Pete. Spike slides into the ring and immediately jumps to his feet. Crusader charges at Jenkins, his arm outstretched for a clothesline, but Spike ducks and runs into the opposite ropes. He bounces off and charges at the Masked Man, leaping into the air and driving his shoulder into his opponents shoulder. The only problem is The Masked Crusader outweighs Spike by a good fifty pounds, thus the shoulder block has no effect. “Spike Jenkins trying to knock over the bigger Masked Crusader,” notes Pete, “There is no way this is going to work.” Crusader laughs at the smaller Jenkins and tells him to try it again. Spike charges into the side ropes, bounces off and leaps at the Masked Man, connecting with another inefficient blow. Crusader points back to the ropes and Spike charges forward… …But comes to a sudden halt, back flips and connects with a Koppa kick to the top of Crusaders head! Spike gets to his feet, sees the giant stumbling around, and leaps into the air once more, connecting with a standing enziguri to the back of the Masked Crusaders head! Jenkins gets to his feet again and watches as the bigger Masked Crusader wobbles back and forth. “Spike is trying to knock the big man down!” “TIMBER!” Spike runs back into the ropes, bounces off and charges at the Crusader. His elbow outstretched for a blow to the face, Jenkins flies towards his opponent… …Only to be caught in his giant arms, spun around, and driven into the mat with a huge powerslam! Crusader hooks the leg for the cover and the advancement into the second round of the Cold Front Classic! ONE! TWO! TH---NO! Spike kicks out! “Spike’s speed is no match for The Masked Crusaders power, Pete!” laughs King, “Crusader is advancing to the second round no problem and then will lose to Johnny Dangerous!” Masked Crusader gets to his feet and pulls Spike up with him. Grabbing the former Cruiserweight Champion by the wrist and Irish whips him into the corner. Spike hits the turnbuckles with a loud thud, as he arches his back in pain. Crusader runs towards his opponent, ready to crush him into the corner…but Jenkins just barely jumps out of the way! Crusader runs chest first into the corner, knocking himself back and almost off his feet. “Spike Jenkins using his speed to dodge the attack by Crusader!” says Pete. Spike charges into the ropes in front of The Masked Crusader, bounces off them and leaps into the air, driving his shoulder into the shoulder of his opponent…and knocking the big man down! “Spike Jenkins finally knocks the big man down!” “Masked Crusader must seriously have two left feet…” Spike gets to his feet and stumbles into a corner to catch his breath. Crusader turns over onto his stomach and climbs up to one knee, ready to get back to a standing position and not allow the faster Jenkins to get an advantage… …But it is too late. Jenkins charges out of the corner, leaps up onto the Masked Man’s knee and drives his own knee into the face of his opposition! “SHINING WIZARD TO THE MASKED CRUSADER!” Receiving a full-on blow to the skull, Masked Crusader crumbles to the mat as if taking a shotgun to the face. Jenkins covers the masked giant, struggling to pull the leg up for the cover! ONE! TWO! THREE!!! *DING DING DING* “Spike Jenkins advances to the second round of the Cold Front Classic!” shouts Pete. “No big deal. He’ll challenge Johnny Dangerous in the second round and go down in a burst of flames!” Spike rolls out of the ring as “Black Label” starts up. “The winner of this match…and advancing to the second round of the Cold Front Classic…‘HOLLYWOOD’ SPIIIIIIIIIIIIIKE JEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENKINSSSSSSS!!!!” Spike makes his way up the ramp, his arms held up in victory. “Spike Jenkins, Johnny Dangerous, TORU, and JJ Johnson! The remaining four men in the Cold Front Classic! But only one of them will challenge for the SWF World Heavyweight Title! Who will it be?” “JJ Johnson.” “Uhh…King, we don’t know who is going to win yet…” “Yeah, we do. It’s JJ Johnson.” “Right…” [FIN]

A backstage SWF camera sees Akira Kaibatsu, and a mysterious oriental man in a wheel chair. Akira seems to be catering to the strangers needs . . . but Mr. Kobe seems less than sympathetic. Thankfully. SWF has some great staff on hand, and a voice over translator helps out the Smarks. “Are you sure you’re ok Toshiaki?” Akira sounds worried “You don’t need me to get you anything?” “Yes, yes I will be fine” The man, apparently named Toshiaki answers. “You know I didn’t mean to injure you that while ago . . . I was young” Akira still seems sorry about something. “You still are young,” Mr. Kobe is visibly annoyed at this situation. Ignoring Kobe, Toshiaki responds “Yes, yes I know, and I’m not bitter. I gave you a new devastating move, didn’t I?” Toshiaki, grumbles “Besides, it probably wasn’t the best thing for me to do, accepting a deathmatch later on in my career from you” Toshiaki finishes. At the word ‘deathmatch’ Akira’s head drops, not like at a move, but like his dog died. “Now if you’ll excuse us Mr. Taue, Mr. Kobe and I have to get ready for my match. We don’t even know who it is. Nice of you to drop by. Have fun with the friend you’re meeting” Akira and Mr. Kobe walk down a corridor, with Toshiaki Taue rolling his wheel chair down the opposite one. “You don’t need to apologize to him, you know,” Kobe lectures. “After all, he’s the reason you don’t live in Japan anymore.”

The Toldedo Sports Arena finishes seating all of the possible stragglers or little punks who possibly snuck their way in. The crowded sports arena talks to those sitting next to them about the upcoming show hoping that their favorite wrestling federation will deliver. And when has it NOT delivered. “Welcome folks to another extravagant addition of SWF Smarkdown. As you know I’m Longdogga Pete.” Pete does his bland introduction. “And I am the best wrestler to ever grace the squared circle. Many know me throughout the world as a symbol of worship, and a hero. I am the Suicide King.” King is indeed a legend in his own mind. “Ugh…wow. Anyway tonight’s card looks fantastic. We continue the Cold Front Classic tonight with a rematch when Hollywood Spike Jenkins will face off against the mysterious Masked Crusader. I, along with the crowd should also be looking forward to the battle of stable mates when JJ Johnson will defend his cruiserweight title against Landon Maddix.” Pete hypes up the card. “As intriguing as those contests sound. I must disagree with your…lame ass opinion “IwishIwasascoolasSuicideKing” Pete. Tonight is all about Ultra Violence. Extreme takes center stage tonight when Bruce Blank faces off against “The Icon” Max King in tonight’s main event.” Before the announcers can bring on the bickering, the SWF proudly produces the opening match… “I’m Born!” “I’m Alive!” “I Breathe!” The familiar words appear on the too many zeros Smarktron signaling for the crowd to leap to their feet. The Ohio crowd erupts as “Vitamin” plays over the booming sound system. Without the normal dramatic build up, Zyon explodes through the black curtain showing himself to the thousands on their feet. Saluting the crowd, Zyon fires off an awkward wave before speeding down the ramp. “Coming to the ring hailing from Elkhart, Indiana, and weighing in at 200 lbs. The Unique Youth…ZYON!!!!” “The crowd absolutely loves this man. He made his return last week, and just fell short against our dominating cruiserweight champion.” Pete remarks. “Fell short? Shoot, he fell a long way down before being destroyed by a top rope dragon suplex.” King does tell the harsh truth. Stalling on the ring apron, Zyon slingshots himself over the top rope landing on his feet crispfully inside the ring. “You stare at me like I'm a vitamin. On the surface you hate, but you know you need me. I'll come dressed as any pill you deem fit. Whatever helps you swallow truth all the more easily.” The hypnotizing chorus plays as Zyon flows into a slow motion head bang before raising his arms… “YEAHHHHHH!” The crowd cheer as the youth rubs his neck slightly proving to the skeptics that he is still reeling from the top rope dragon suplex of DOOM!!! Smiling, Zyon slowly backs into a random corner while he awaits his opponents. Suddenly “China Girl” by David Bowie plays across the arena as the male manager Frisco is the first to appear. Smug, and waiting for his star pupil the manager steps aside as a feminine shadow appears. The Joshi Dragon makes her way down the ramp while flaunting her looks to the pervs located in the front row. You can’t miss them, they are the one’s that seem to be grabbing at the air. Frisco walks down behind his prize wrestler making sure nothing goes wrong until the young foreigner makes it to the ring. “This lady has made a name for herself on her sheer will alone.” Pete commends the Joshi Dragon. “Candace along with her manager will hopefully figure out that sheer will can only get you so far.” King is once again brutally honest. Reaching the ring, Frisco takes his place at the side as the star import rolls into the ring taking the time to flaunt her beauty… “And his opponent hailing from Tokyo, Japan, and weighing in at 124 lbs. Candace THE JOSHI DRAGON Okimura.” The female veteran analyzes her surroundings noticing the brilliant man made signs, the cheering wrestling marks, and her opponent across the ring. The lightweight believes she is ready to win this match of motivation. Then again so is this man. The lights dim as Mastodon’s “Crusher Destroyer” blasts across Toledo. The jeering crowd rises to their feet to greet the creator of “Mansonosity.” And with a single sway of the curtain the hated villain has arrived. “BOOOOOO!!” The no nonsense Raging Bull saunters to the ring ignoring the infidels in the front row. Breathing heavily, Manson reaches the ring before immediately entering it. “And their opponent, hailing from Denver, Colorado, and weighing in at 260 lbs. The Raging Bull…MANSON!!!!” Funyon ends his announcing duties as referee Nick Soapdish prepares to start the first match of the night. Both Zyon and Candace energetically hop around, while the cold calculating Manson stares a hole through his opponents. Soapdish makes the familiar hand signal towards the timekeeper’s table. Ding Ding DING! The crowd sits back as they get ready to enjoy the ride that is SWF Smarkdown. The three competitors circle the ring, all ready and willing to make the first strike. Candace the weakest of the trio takes a step forward initiating both males to be on their guard. The foreign female though thinks better and takes a step back while Frisco begins to bark orders toward his pupil. Hesitantly plodding, Manson continues to prepare his onslaught of pain. Before the crowd can get restless, Zyon decides to break the tension by lunging toward Candace with a clothesline. Weak, but insanely quick, Candace easily ducks and wraps her arms around the body of Zyon. The youth struggles to break out of the reverse waist lock, as his eyes quickly multiply in size as the sight of a charging Manson can scare even the iron clad. Fidgeting with the hands of the female, Zyon notices a huge boot come his way…before breaking free and moving away as quick as possible. Candace on the other hand… SMACK!!! The heavy boot of Manson collides with the pretty face of the young Japanese warrior. Crashing into the canvas, Candace rolls out on to the ring apron trying to get away from the powerhouse. Even though Manson never smiles, many in the arena can see that he is quite pleased with himself. The raging bull decides to dash into action as his twisted mind forms a plan of punishment for the small Joshi Dragon. However, Candace reels back and places a forearm into the charging Manson. Dazed, the raging bull turns into another forearm, this time in the form of Zyon! “Looks like the two lightweights have something in store for Manson.” Pete thinks. Suddenly, the harsh villain finds himself in a whirlwind of forearms as the two cruiserweights unleash a flurry of forearms on the harsh Manson. Zyon begins to get overanxious and attempts a dropkick that Manson swats away like the Unique Youth was a fly. Alone to face Manson, Candace leaps into the air with a springboard before dropping a missile dropkick into the chest of Manson!!! Okimura quickly rolls on top of Manson… ONE…power kick out. Manson uses his brute strength, and powers out of the pin attempt, throwing Candace on referee Nick Soapdish who must believe he is the luckiest man in the world right now. Scampering to his feet, Manson stomps toward Candace who is back on her feet. Bold and Beautiful, Candace unleashes a wicked kick toward the leg of Manson. SMACK! Manson’s face turns to grimace as the lady fires off another shot… SMACK! Again… SMACK! Again… SMACK! Agai…oh wait nope. Before the tree known as Manson can be fully chopped down, the tree strikes with a heavy branch to Candace’s face. Visibly ticked off, Manson looks down on the Joshi Dragon who is currently in defense mode. Lucky for the lady, Zyon is to the rescue. The young cruiserweight sneaks up on Manson and takes the giant out with a chop block to the same leg that Okimura kicked at. Manson’s knee gets trapped between the mat and Zyon’s arm, which leaves his back to bend in an awkward angle, which in turn causes the chop block to look all the more nastier. Both Zyon and Candace lift Manson from his knee and Irish whip him into the turnbuckle. Zyon communicates with Candace both verbally and physically, and Candace smacks Zyon in the face???? “Hahahah. I think Candace thinks that Zyon just asked her to…” “King!!!” “What?” “This may not be Lockdown, but there are some things we can not elaborate on. But for those at home I think that slap was a visible “no” to whatever Candace thinks Zyon said.” Pete elaborates…when he said they shouldn’t. Zyon rubs his check as a look of shock comes over his face. Before the two break into a brawl, Frisco shouts instructions to the Joshi Dragon, in Japanese of course. The female warrior gets down on all fours by the turnbuckle as Zyon retreats to the opposite turnbuckle. “I think we’ve seen this move used by Zyon and Spike Jenkins before.” Pete is informative. The crowd cheer as Zyon charges forward and…. PUTS A BOOT RIGHT INTO THE RIBS OF CANDACE!!!! “oooooOOOOOOOO!” The crowd echoes as Candace’s eyes bulge from their sockets, and her face develops into a purple shadow! “Hey is Zyon trying to get me to like him?” King wonders. Before the gambling man can start praising Zyon, the youth looks out into the crowd and simply shrugs his shoulders. “Ah I see. Zyon understands that this is a triple threat match, ya know. All against all.” Pete brings the psychology. Frisco angrily shouts at Zyon, who basically doesn’t care what the manager has to say. He does care that Manson has leaped out of the turnbuckle and has struck the youth down with a flying clothesline!!! Zyon clutches his throat, but is able to pull himself back to his feet. Manson though is quite relentless and places a knee to the gut of Zyon. The former hardcore champ clutches his gut while doubled over…leaving his neck open for attack. CRACK! Manson The Stampede without hesitation drops a sharp elbow to the back of Zyon’s neck dropping the youth swiftly. Manson latches on to Zyon’s head, pulling the youngster back to his feet. Raising his hand into the air like the imaginary hand of god, Manson drops a closed first right between the startled eyes of his male opponent. Zyon wishes he could drop to the mat, but Manson holds on to the patron wrestler of Athens hand forcing the youth to stay on his feet. Once again, Zyon’s eyes grow as Manson pulls the cruiserweight into a short arm clothesline attempt, but Zyon ducks avoiding having his head taken off. Silently on the other side of the ring, Candace orders something of her manager while Zyon kicks Manson in the right leg, which can now be deemed the bad one. Dropping to one knee, Manson can only watch as Zyon bounces off the ropes and places a firm dropkick to the face of his adversary. And the opening has indeed opened. Frisco leaps on the apron forcing the refs attention to him. “What is that crazy goof doing?” King wonders. Candace pulls herself up taking a moment to clutch her rib before strutting over to Zyon who sees the angry warrior. Candace swiftly unleashes a high kick, but Zyon gets a defense for the shot… That never comes. With an insane fake, Okimura goes low with a swift strike right between the uprights!!! “YEAHHHHH!” The crowd explodes, as they love to see the underdog get their revenge. “I though this Okimura was honorable and stuff. I mean don’t get me wrong, I applaud the young lady for that.” King wonders. Pete answers, “I guess she found Zyon’s act of deception to be heavily against whatever moral code she follows.” Obviously hurting, Zyon drops to both knees holding on to what every man holds dear. Immediately, the pain of the previous kick exits Zyon’s mental state as he notices that the young female has him perfectly set up for the BUZZSAW KICK! “Oh shit…” Zyon mouths as Okimura lowers the boom on a stunned Zyon!!!!! CRRRRACK!!!!!! “He got him!” Pete shouts. Zyon falls to the mat motionless as Frisco screams at Candace to cover the unconscious Zyon. She complies. ONE… TWO… TH…break up. Before Soapdish can finish his count, Manson aggressively lifts Candace off of Zyon’s living corpse. The excited female tries to fight out of the serial killer like grip with sloppy closed fists. The monstrous Manson ignores the blows and tosses Candace into the ropes. Limping, Manson takes a step forward as the Joshi Dragon shoots off the ropes. The raging bull catches Candace at the peak of her momentum and tosses her with a snap overhead belly-to-belly suplex. “What a chain of moves that was. First Manson threw Candace into the ropes causing the young female to pick up momentum. The Manson used her own velocity to make his railgun suplex stronger.” Pete informs the audience. Candace finishes floating through the air before crashing to he mat. On impact Candace immediately clutches her back as Manson slowly makes his way toward the fallen Japanese import. Frisco continues to shout unknown Japanese toward his fallen pupil, but it seems to have the effect of none. The angry raging bull stalks his prey as he waits for the Joshi Dragon to pull herself up. “Get up you little bitch!” Manson…always the gentlemen. “BOOOOOOO!” The crowd responds to the verbal abuse Manson gives Candace. The Joshi Dragon heroically rises to her feet with both arms hanging by her side. In other words, the frail female is defenseless. For once the bitter Manson unleashes a smile until dashing forward with his dangerous WESTERN LARIATOOOO!!!!! “Watch Candace’s head rip from her shoulders, Pete. This is going to be great.” King is slightly sadistic tonight. The lariat fires off toward Candace who’s eyes shut ready to take the blow head on, which would remarkable kill the Joshi Dragon. However, the Japanese veteran values her life and ducks her head. SWISH! The powerful lariat misses giving many in the front row a delightful breeze. Instinctively, Candace slithers behind Manson and locks on a reverse waist lock before lifting with all her HEART AND SOUL!!!! “YEAHHHHHHHH!!!!” The crowd cheers on the female who has a confused Manson a few inches off the ground. “She’s going to do it!” Pete shills. Frisco along with the Toledo Sports Arena cannot believe their eyes. So they’ll believe their ears as the violent Manson scoffs… “You’ve got to be kidding.” Suddenly, Manson shifts his weight downward as the Joshi Dragon’s grip loosens dramatically… CRACK!!! …Just enough for Manson to fire off a rabid elbow to the gorgeous face of his opponent. The furious Manson faces Candace and wraps his hand around the lightweights throat. With one hand, Manson the stampede hurls Candace in the air with a choke slam and attempts to drive her to the mat… But fails!!!! Improvising, Candace locks her legs around the head of Manson. Now any other time, Manson would welcome such an action, but this would be the exception. Tensing her muscles, Candace attempts to take the heavyweight over. Manson though balances himself as Candace pulls backward. The Joshi Dragon touches the mat with the top of her head, and Manson still refuses to be taken over. The momentum shifts again as Manson with one loud deep scream lifts Candace into the air. “Manson end this by breaking Candace.” King orders from the announce table. Before Manson can oblige, Zyon staggers over to the battle and places a diving shoulder to the wide-open gut of Manson. A chain of events take place as Manson doubles over and the resilient Joshi Dragon succeeds in her trial to take Manson over with a hurricarana. “YEAHHHH!” The crowd explodes as Candace leans backward and hooks the leg of her opponent. ONE… TWO…break up. The Cinderella story gets put on pause, as Zyon break the pin attempt up. Both cruisers remain on their feet before the female one strikes! Candace throws a high kick, for real this time, but the result is the same. The high kick never actually hits. Easily, Zyon ducks another headshot as Candace spins 180 degrees into a kick to the gut. The youth latches on to a front face lock before lifting Candace into the air…and stalling? “This has to be the first time Zyon has ever used a stalling suplex.” Pete announces. “Ha. And it looks like the loser is struggling to keep her up in the air.” King points out. The Zyon hater would be correct as the female ring general floats over on to her feet, and drops Zyon with a shocking neck breaker! “Ah!” Zyon lets out as he clutches his hurt neck. Candace rolls on to her stomach before pulling herself up. Unaware of the raging bull, Candace runs toward the ropes and slingshots off of them. Floating through the air, the Joshi Dragon performs a dazzling moonsault, and lands perfectly on the shoulder of Manson. Wait a minute…. The crowd is shocked as Manson staggers back a few steps before gaining control of the female warrior. Sadistic, Manson charges forward and dumps Candace HEAD FIRST TO THE OUTSIDE!!! CRASH!!!! “Holy shit…” A minor chant starts as Candace lands face first on the unforgiving ring floor. Frisco immediately runs over to check on his unconscious client. “OH MY GOD, King! She could be dead!” Pete freaks out. “Now I’d say dead is a bit far fetched. Now she may never be able to walk again, but dead c’mon.” King plays it off like it’s no big deal. Manson stares at the motionless Candace before he realizes that there is still one more bug to smash. Smelling blood, Manson spins around before taking a full on ROLLING ELBOW from Zyon!!!! CRRRACK! “A move that he picked up from JJ Johnson no doubt.” King makes a good point. Manson staggers back into the ropes as Zyon takes a step back…and charges. The youth whips his arm back before firing it forward knocking Manson over the top with a heavy clothesline. The selfish individual lands on his feet, albeit a little bit sloppy. The crowd rises to their feet as Zyon takes a moment to rub his head before getting that crazy look in his eye. Insane, Zyon turns and runs off the opposite ropes, and charges back toward Manson WHO HAS LEAPED ON TO THE APRON! Zyon attempts to slow down, but he instead finds himself with Manson’s enormous hand around his throat. Struggling, Zyon reaches for Manson and scrapes the cold eyes of his opponent!!!! “YES!” Pete shills. Blinded, the furious stampede ignores the irritation of his eyes and lifts Zyon high into the air…and slams him to the canvas with a vicious choke slam!!!! “DAMN!” King echoes the fans sentiments. Zyon bounces off the mat as Manson takes the time to read through his vision that is blurred. Obviously, the monster can only have “Mansonality” on his mind as the furious raging bull begins to ascend the top rope. Manson the stampede can barely keep his balance, but he patiently waits for Zyon to rise. Candace just like the land she is from rises on the outside taking a few moments to make sure that her brain isn’t bleeding since the sight of Manson on the top rope is simply insane. Seeing an open opportunity, the opportunistic Joshi Dragon hops on to the ring apron and shakes the top rope. “OOOOOOOOO!” The crowd echoes as Manson immediately loses whatever balance he had and finds himself crotched on the top rope. “Manson may never have kids because of that wench.” King actually feels sorry for someone. “Good. The world is a better place in my eyes.” And Pete actually does not feel sympathetic for someone. Manson’s face blushes a beet red as Zyon makes it back to his feet. Once again the two cruisers make eye contact, and this time they have a common goal. The two lightweights ascend the turnbuckle as the crowd gets a whiff of what is to come. Both individuals place Manson in a front face lock… “Oh my….” Pete can only let out before it happens. Candace and Zyon pull backward as all three competitors crash to the mat after the DOUBLE TEAM SUPPPPAPLEX ON MANSON!!!!! “YEAHHHHH!!!” The crowd explodes as the cruiserweights rise to their feet. Candace with a “ladies first” mentality falls on top of Manson… ONE!! TWO!!!! “She’s got him!” THRE….break up! Zyon pushes Candace off of the wounded Manson before covering the raging bull himself! ONE!! TWO…break up! Candace this time pushes Zyon off as both competitors rise to their feet. Frisco once again sticks his nose in the match. This time Zyon isn’t going to let the manager distract the ref… CRACK!!! And with that Frisco falls off the apron after a devastating elbow smash. Of course, Zyon doesn’t realize that Frisco did indeed distract him long enough for Candace to shuffle her feet and throw another BUZZSAW KICK….FOOL! Zyon’s eyes grow to the size of carnival pumpkins, as the crowd prepares for the impact. CRRRRRRSWISH! Just in time Zyon ducks the kick, and places a knee to Candace’s gut. Zyon then places a doubled over Candace in a standing head scissor. “YEAH!” The crowd cheer, as they know the FINAL HOUR is being set up. Candace continues to fight an up hill battle, as Zyon begins to gain leverage. Oh remember that Manson fella. Suddenly, the stampede limping and all charges and throws a sloppy yet universally destructive WESTERN LARIAT toward Zyon who is tied up with Candace. This time the youth is forced to nut up and take the shot!!!! CRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRSWISH!!!” Zyon though ducks the lariat by bending over to lift Candace. Speaking of which, Candace uses her feminine strength to back drop Zyon to the mat. Candace stumbles forward toward Manson who furiously throws his wounded leg toward Candace who catches it! Realizing his mistake Manson is going to hate himself in the morning as Candace perform a dragon screw sending Manson to the mat clutching his leg. Manson is absolutely furious, so he sets up…right into the BUZZSAW KICK!!!!! CRRRRRRRRRRRACK!!!! “YEAHHHHH!!” Manson’s face seemingly caves in as his eyes roll into the back of his head. Luckily for Manson we did not just experience a “Candaceality” but a simple knockout blow. The crowd cheers as Candace pumps her fist. Frisco though now awake points at Candace to turn around. She obliges and takes a kick to the gut as Zyon places one of Candace’s flailing arms between her legs, and lifts… Could it be? Yep, a pump handle 911 AERO DRIVAAAAAAAA!!!!!! “Oh my…did you see her head.” Pete can barely watch. “Now that was a spike. I guess that is known as the 911 Aero Driver!” King brings the Indy knowledge. Of course to Frisco and Candace that move is but a memory…Zyon goes for the cover… ONE!!! TWO!!!!! THREE!!!!!!!! “YEAHHHHHHHHH!!!” The crowd erupts for one of their favorites, as both Manson and Candace lay unconscious in the ring. Frisco enters the ring to check on Candace as Zyon rolls out of the ring… DING… DING… DING!!! Soapdish gives a late signal as Funyon gives a late announcement. “The winner, the UNIQUE YOUTH ZYYYYON!” “Vitamin” plays as Zyon rubs at his neck that was slightly injured from last weeks loss to JJ Johnson. This week though, Zyon leaves the ring victorious over two stars who were motivated to pick up the “W.” “What an opener. Zyon back on the winning trail, and next we another match of the Cold Front Classic, stay tuned.” The camera pans on to Zyon having his hand raised by referee Nick Soapdish before SWF goes to commercial.

*BOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!* “YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “Fans, welcome to Smarkdown from Toledo, Ohio!” Longdogger Pete shouts. “Myself and the Suicide King are here at ringside as we count down to the Christmas Pay-Per-View!” ‘…AND I MUST BE SOME KIND OF GEEEENNIIIIUUUUUUSSSSSSSS!” “Uh-oh,” Pete says as the strains of ‘Genius’ by Pitchshifter crank up over the PA System, “we both know what this means, King.” “Yes,” the Gambling Man replies with resignation, “another idiot is coming out to waste valuable oxygen. The fact that this one manages a vaguely talented tag team doesn’t make it any easier to stomach.” Sure enough, the royal purple spotlight has picked out the familiar long-haired and sharp-suited figure of Chris Card as Technical Perfection makes his way down the ramp. The former SJL European Champion climbs the ring steps before clambering through the ropes and adjusting the creases in his suit, then demanding the microphone from Funyon. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Card begins in his half-English, half-Canadian accent, “I’d like to say what a pleasure it is to be here in Toledo… but that would be a bald-faced lie, so I won’t bother.” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Regardless of how pleasant it would be to stand here and insult your hometown for hours on end -and believe me, there’s a lot to insult- I do have a schedule to keep to,” Card declares, drawing a few more boos, “so please don’t feel that any of you are actually worth my time. In fact,” he continues, “the only two people in this company who are worth my time are in the locker room right now, and one of them has a match this evening. I refer, of course, to your World Tag Team Champions, TKO!” This statement gets a mixed reception. A lot of the fans boo when they hear the name but quite a few cheer, especially the TKO Section seated at ringside who even start a small ‘T!K!O!’ chant. Card looks over at them and smirks. “Hey, you guys!” he calls, pointing. “Just a quick question; those of you with the new TKO shirts on, with the Kanji writing - do you know what they say?” The guys in question, several of whom are indeed wearing the new TKO shirts with Kanji on the front and back, look blank and shake their heads. Card’s grin grows wider. “Well a quick tip for you. The back of them says; ‘I can’t read Kanji’.” They nod. “The front says; ‘Idiot’.” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “What? What!?” Card protests as the arena voices its displeasure, “are you telling me that you’d happily wear an item of clothing without knowing what it actually says?” “I hate to say it, but he has a point,” Longdogger Pete mutters, then looks at the Suicide King. “King, what are you doing?” “Checking,” the Heartbreaker replies. “…do I want to know what you were checking, in your pants?” “These boxers with the Arabic script on them,” King replies. “I swear the girl who sold them to me said it meant-” “WE DON’T WANT TO KNOW!” Meanwhile in the ring, happily removed from the perils of a misinterpreted crotch, Chris Card is soaking in the negative reactions from the crowd. However Technical Perfection does indeed have a schedule to keep to, and he raises his microphone again. “You see, I have been asked to make a request on behalf on TORU Takahara,” Card states, “a request regarding his match at the Christmas Pay-Per-View. We understand that if TORU wins the Fatal Fourway he is in this evening he will be entitled to name the stipulation of whatever match he is competing in at the Pay-Per-View. That’s all well and good, but TORU would like to make a more specific request: “He would like to make sure that whatever match he is in, it does not involve Jay Hawke.” “…say what?” Pete says in confusion, “why on earth would TORU ask that?” “This is Card,” King replies, “it’s not like he doesn’t love the sound of his own voice; he’ll tell us soon enough.” “This request is not out of any fear of Jay Hawke,” Card states, proving King right, “oh no, far from it. In fact, TORU is bored. Bored of Jay Hawke, and in fact bored of Cucaracha Internacional; just as bored as KOJI is, come to that. You see, since debuting in the SWF TORU and KOJI have beaten Landon and Hawke in a hardcore tag match; they’ve beaten them for the Tag Titles in a ladder match; TORU beat Jay Hawke in the Cold Front Classic, and now on Lockdown they beat Landon and Hawke again. The only member of Cucaracha Internacional who is even worthy to be in the same ring as us is JJ Johnson… and that’s debatable,” Card finishes with a sly sneer. “You got lucky against KOJI in that cruiserweight title match, and even more lucky that due to an ongoing back problem KOJI is now only fit to compete in tag matches, so he can’t have another go at you. Rest assured my friend, should you get into the ring with TORU it’ll be a different story… and you never know, that just might happen!” Chris Card flashes a smirk at the four corners of the arena, prompting another rain of boos. Not because he’s badmouthing Cucaracha Internacional - simply because he’s an obnoxious scumbag. “It hasn’t escaped our notice that you’ve advanced in the Cold Front Classic too, JJ,” Card says, “by the truly strenuous means of beating up a little girl, of course. Then there’s Spike Jenkins and the Masked Crusader, who might actually succeed in having a match this time. Any one of those three could face TORU in the next round, depending how the brackets go. But perhaps the fourth option is the most interesting; Johnny Dangerous.” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Johnny, you are without question a lying, cheating scumhole who would stab your best friend in the back for a slice of cake and whore your mother for another sniff at the World Title that you’ve notably failed to cling onto for more than a couple of weeks at a time,” Card says. “In fact, if you weren’t such a pathetic, James Bond-worshipping loser I might even like you for your complete lack of anything approaching a moral code. However, what I don’t like is the fact that you’ve involved yourself with Bruce Blank, a man who is not popular with TKO.” “It’s easy to understand why,” Pete reminds viewers, “Bruce Blank and Marcus Ward handed TKO their only tag team loss to date in the SWF, and the big redneck prevented TORU from competing against Max King a couple of weeks ago to give the Japanese Hammer a technical loss!” “Therefore Johnny,” Card resumes, “if you were thinking of bringing your hired gun along to help you against TORU, should the two of you meet in the Cold Front Classic, I want to assure you that both you and he will be met with the sort of reception that you deserve! And Bruce, if you win tonight against Max King and get to challenge TKO for the Tag Titles then it doesn’t matter who you pick as your partner, you can even dig Marcus Ward out of hiding if you want, because TORU and KOJI will show you who the dominant tag team in the SWF is. And if either of you gentlemen have a problem with that…” Chris Card grins, and takes a moment to cross his thumbs over his heart. “…then you’ll just have to DEAL WITH IT!” FADE OUT

Done.

Comcast came to check my modem out today. I wasn't here for it, but according to my dad, the guy said that every few minutes, my signal is dropped entirely, and recovers a few seconds later. He doesn't know how or why, but they're going to inspect the lines tomorrow to try and find the problem. So I guess it was Comcast's fault after all.

Is there any way a dummy like me could do this? If so, how?

*fell out of his chair laughing at RAMADOMINATION* That gets my vote.

I don't know if this matters or not, but I asked X-Box Tech Support how it could be Comcast's fault if my other XBL games are playable. They said my other games (all two of them - Burnout Revenge and Unreal Championship 2) might require less information and the sending thereof, so packet loss wouldn't affect those games as badly. Keep in mind I have no idea what I'm talking about here, that's just what they said.

The Semi's should be on Smarkdown, but something happened to prevent Spike v. Mask when it was supposed to happen. So now we have to play catchup.

Didn't we do a Season's Beatings once? I can't quite remember.

After Smarkdown comes Storm. After Storm comes the PPV. And after the PPV comes Christmas Break! Yaaaaay!

So what should I say to Comcast when I call them up? I'm a bit of a pushover, really, so I don't think the "Yell a lot until I get what I want" shtick is going to work. What can I tell them, or ask them to do, so they'll actually fix the problem instead of giving me the "it must be your X-Box" blowoff?

I can't claim to understand time travel all that well, but I think there's a long-winded and hard to explain contradiction in there. Maybe not. Anyone wanna tackle that?

Just to update: -- Trying a new copy of Halo 2 didn't work. -- A new Cat-5 cable didn't work. -- Deleting my Halo 2 profile didn't work (duh, but MS suggested it anyway). Gonna try and bring it over to a friends house sometime soon, see if my connection on his cable modem is any better. A question, though, to you people who understand this technical mumbo-jump: when I called Comcast and said "Packet loss", they pinged me and said "No". Pinging is where they send useless data to my modem, and my modem bounces it back, right? Are there any other tests I should be doing, or asking them to do? I tried the dslreports thing, but it never seems to work. I let the test run for over an hour (it says 5-20 minutes), and still get no mention of it being finished, and doing anything will cause it to be cancelled. Any other websites or tools I could try out?

From what I can tell, the following are still legal: -- Strikes to anywhere except the face, so even the back of the head is fair game. -- Slams and drops that target the back, chest, legs, arms, etc. You can probably get away with most suplexes. -- Springboard anything, and second-rope anything. -- Dropkicks. -- ARM BAR -- Submissions (minus Sleeper holds) -- Drop toe holds. -- Small packages. -- Back rakes. And probably more that I can't think of at the moment.

Creation of the website would be Johnny's expertise. Maintaining the website would be CC's responsibility, but we're lazy. Although if I have enough free time this Sunday, I'll see if I can update it.

Best. Family Friendly Lockdown. EVER. Card of the Year, right here.

Don't forget, Ethan nearly killed Charlie. Technically, DID kill Charlie, but Jack brought him back.

It's a longshot, but you guys can't be any less helpful than tech support, so I figure it's worth a shot. My X-Box Live connection, via Comcast Cable Internet, has always rocked. No lag or anything. Two weeks ago, my connection to Halo 2 (and only Halo 2) has gone to shit. I lag out of every game I try to play. I called Microsoft. They did some crazy testing thingy and said I have packet loss (they said I have 11 / 25, and I need to be at 20 / 20 - I have no idea what this means), and that I needed to call Comcast. I called Comcast. They pinged me, and said there was no packet loss. I called Microsoft. They suggested that Comcast might have put up Firewalls that are blocking info, and that I needed to call Comcast. I called Comcast. They said it wasn't Firewalls. I called Microsoft. They said I should try buying a new Cat-5 Cable, and if that doesn't fix it, it absolutely has to be packet loss from Comcast's end. I called Comcast. They did another ping and said I'm not losing any information, and that the problem has to be with the X-Box. I am really confused. I'm going to go buy a new Cat-5 cable tomorrow, but if that doesn't fix it, I'm absolutely lost. Is there anyone on here with a decent knowledge of both Comcast High Speed Internet, X-Box, and any other relevant information who can help me out?

If Max is up for it, then King v. TORU is OK with me. EDIT: Ok, TORU v. King is official.

This is Wes Anderson. Had The Royal Tenenbaums fresh in my mind when I booked the card. D'oh.