Chuck Woolery

Cut backstage, where Calvin Szechstein is standing alongside the incomparable Josh Matthews, his eyes gleaming with pride as the crowd roars for his sudden appearance! J. MATH Hey yo, it's Josh Matthews again, this time alongside Calvin Szechstein. Calvin, tonight you came out and made a statement, and I guess what everybody really wants to know is... why? CALVIN Well, Josh, it's pretty simple, really. You see, for nearly two years now I've been nothing more than a puppet, telling people what they should buy and whoring myself out to various companies just for the sake of making money. I didn't care about wrestling, I didn't care about the World Heavyweight championship, I cared about money. J. MATH Are you saying that's changed? CALVIN You're damn right it's changed, Josh. Ever since I lost the belt at Anglemania III, I haven't been the same Calvin Szechstein. I didn't realize it then, but that World Heavyweight championship meant more to me than any amount of money could. I started to have a nervous breakdown, and the OAOAST sensed my anger and sent me home after me and Sly's thing finished up. And ever since then I've been feeling even emptier, and I finally realized why. This wrestling thing, it means more to me than you'll ever know, Josh Matthews, and I knew that I had to come back, but not for the money -- but for love of this sport. So when my contracts started running out, I didn't bother to re-sign, because when I made my comeback I wanted to make sure that everyone knew that I was doing it for me. J. MATH And what about the 70's Dude? CALVIN Josh, when I come out and I see a guy running his mouth about he's the best, it just infuriates me, because he doesn't give a damn about anybody but himself. He doesn't care about the guys in the back, he doesn't respect the sport... *CRASH!* A disco ball is broken out of nowhere over Calvin's head, and Szechstein crumples to the ground, clutching his bleeding forehead! The 70's Dude stands over him, smiling evilly. THE 70S DUDE And I don't respect you, either. 70's Dude gets shifty eyes, and then fless quickly, leaving Josh Matthews to wonder just what the hell is going on as we fade to commercial...

Now Airing On The Angletron! The familiar theme and video of the OAOAST's self professed Savior begin simultaneously, drawing the fans in a frenzy of boo's, as the man who left Anglepalooza without any gold makes his way to the ring. COLE So much for the Malibu Gold Rush at Anglepalooza, eh Coach? CABOOSE Whoa whoa whoa, before you guys get on THAT kick, let's think about things here. Zack Malibu lost the tag belts the other night. Zack Malibu didn't get the X Title, and he didn't earn the right to go to Anglemania. Now tonight, of all people, the person who started it all, the person who led Zack to become...unbalanced, shall we say, is the one person with the balls to get in his face? Gentlemen, talk all you want, but I'm going to sit back and watch this massacre unfold! The usually overconfident prep comes down the aisle slowly, not smirking as he would usually, but rather scowling. Candie walks a few steps behind, not holding her beau's hand as he doesn't appear to be in the mood for PDA, instead choosing to roll into the ring and stand silently, simply looking around at the fans with an angered look. COACH If this were a cartoon we'd see steam coming out of his ears! Candie doesn't even bother to join Zack in the ring, not wanting to test his patience tonight. Zack turns to face the entrance ramp, awaiting the arrival of the young lady who became his most formidable challenger, and sworn enemy back in the early portion of 2004. As soon as the opening notes of "Set It Off" hit, the fans jump up to welcome their beloved Female Phenom as she enters the arena. COLE It's deja vu for us all folks, as this was the match that...hang on now! Cole is cut off by Malibu bolting from the ring and running up the aisle after Crystal! Crystal sees Malibu coming at her and runs towards him, and the two competitors lock horns in the middle of the aisleway, trading punches with each other! Crystal's music stops, as does her onslaught, courtesy of a well placed Malibu knee. Zack then tugs on her long hair and leads her to the ring, shoving her onto the apron and into the ring, then climbing up in pursuit. Crystal gets up as Zack is entering and hits the ropes, coming at him with a clothesline that gets ducked, but she keeps running! Malibu turns and gives her a hiptoss as she rebounds, but Crystal floats over, and lands on her feet! She counters with her own hiptoss, but Malibu blocks it, sending her to the ropes again and catching her in his arms, pressing her up over his head...but Crystal rakes the eyes! Malibu releases her, allowing her to drop to her feet behind him and run the blinded former World Champion towards the ropes, looking to roll him up...but he hangs on! Crystal rolls backwards and then charges as Malibu turns to her, jumping up onto his shoulders with a huracanrana and carrying him to the canvas! Zack quickly gets up, but finds himself hooked in a front facelock, as Crystal tries a suplex...but Malibu shifts his weight to land across the chest of the Female Phenom! Referee Charles Robinson slides down to the mat... ONE! But Crystal quickly shoves Zack off of her! She goes to get to her feet, but Malibu is waiting, driving a knee into her ribcage and then leading her to the corner, ramming her face into...NO! Foot up to block, and Crystal takes Zack's head and smashes it into the turnbuckle! Malibu stumbles back, and Crystal quickly climbs the ropes, leaping off with a missle dropkick...SWATTED AWAY! The former first ever female World Champion hits the canvas hard, and gets pulled up into a rear waistlock by Zack, then gets rocked with a quick back suplex! Crystal favors her head for a few moments and pushes up off the mat, not knowing that Malibu has her measured up...SCHOOL'S OUT...NO! Crystal quickly falls back and rolls under the ropes to the floor, avoiding the potentially fatal superkick and catching her breath, while the fans go nuts in appalause of these last few minutes of action. CABOOSE What a cowardly bitch. Get back in that ring, hussy! The fans don't view this as an act of cowardice, but Malibu and Caboose are on the same page, as Zack waves for her to get back in the ring. Crystal happily obliges, sliding right back in and coming up in Zack's face, then SHOVING him, shocking he, Candie, and even some of her own fans! Malibu comes back to his smaller rival and hovers over her in intimidating fashion, mouthing his trademark "Do you know who I am"...AND GETTING A SLAP ACROSS THE FACE! Malibu rears back and fires off a lariat, but Crystal ducks, swinging around behind Zack and shoving him towards the corner, then charging! Malibu hits the corner, but springs up over Crystal as she charges, landing behind her. When she turns around, he lifts her up and puts her on the top rope, then slaps the taste out of HER mouth, drawing nothing but hatred out of the fans in attendance tonight! Malibu goes up and prepares to take Crystal off the top with a superplex (or something similar), but Crystal fights it, pounding on his ribcage with right fists, and then executing a falling front suplex, letting Zack crash to the canvas! Malibu hits hard, and Crystal starts to get herself up...but before she can follow up, Zack runs to the ropes and shakes them, crotching Crystal once again! Malibu then stands by the ropes and jumps up, springboarding off the top rope but turning his body to land in the ring, as he cracks Crystal in the back of the head with a springboard enzugiri! Crystal's head bobs upon impact, and Malibu gets right back up and runs up the ropes, hooking both of Crystal's arms and executing a top rope butterfly suplex to put her down on the mat! COLE I'll give it to Malibu, he's channelling that frustration into a hell of an effort thus far, without his usual cheap tactics. CABOOSE Ain't nothing cheap about that man. COACH Except his girl OOOOOOH SNAP! CABOOSE Ah, how fun it must be to still be in high school, huh Coach? Crystal is down, but Michael Cole spoke too soon, as the next thing Malibu does is stomps her down, kicking at her fallen body repeatedly, much to the approval of Candie. Zack then picks Crystal up and sends her to the ropes, catching her on the rebound and lifting her up horizontally before dropping her down across his knee, snapping her in two! COLE Vicious backbreaker by Malibu! Crystal bounces off Zack's knee, and rolls around on the mat, getting up only because Zack tugs on her hair and brings her to her feet. Malibu taunts the Female Phenom, saying "this is what you get", referring to the months and months of torture the female fan favorite put him through, as he slaps her lightly, then spins around for a ROARING ELBOW~!...DUCKED...GERMAN SUPLEX! ONE! TW-KICKOUT! Both wrestlers get to their feet about the same time, and Zack delivers a boot to Crystal's gut, then pulls her into a standing headscissors...only to get backdropped over! Crystal then jogs across the ring, running up the ropes again and leaping off with a flying bodypress to a recovering Zack...AND GETS CAUGHT! Malibu doesn't even hesitate, because as soon as she's in his clutches, he swings her around and again drops her back across his knee, this time with an old standby...his Rock Bottom Backbreaker! COLE We haven't seen that one in a while, and I'm sure that Crystal wasn't looking forward to it! CABOOSE Nooooo shit, Sherlock. Malibu quickly rolls the agonizing Crystal onto her back, holding her down for the cover and waiting for Robinson to make the count. ONE! TW-CRYSTAL ROLLS A SHOULDER! Not one to give his foe an opening, Malibu runs the ropes, maintaining his offense...but falls victim to a drop toe hold from Crystal! The popular young lady then back into the ropes, and as Malibu is pushing up to his knees, his jaw gets shattered by a pair of feet, as Crystal strikes him down with a basement dropkick to the mush! Malibu falls forward, catching himself at the last minute...and as he's on his hands and knees, Crystal hops over his back, cradling him in an OKlahoma Roll! ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! Malibu rolls backwards, coming up to his feet, and is immediately met with a forearm to his already worn jaw. Crystal follows up with two more, and then Irish whips Zack to the ropes...COUNTERED...POWERSL...NO! COUNTERED WITH AN ARM DRAG IN MID MOVE! Malibu is stunned, and pulls himself up with the aid of the ropes...THEN GOES TOPPLING OVER, AS CRYSTAL STRIKES WITH A LEAPING LARIAT THAT SENDS THEM BOTH TO THE FLOOR! COLE This...this could get ugly. CABOOSE Coach I swear if you bust out a "yo mama" joke I'll kill. The fans start chanting for Crystal as she gets up, the first of the two to make it to their feet. Malibu struggles to get up, stunned by the effectiveness of that last blow, but Crystal decides to lend a hand, bringing him to his feet...and then whipping him into the guardrail! Malibu smashes against the steel and slumps down onto his ass, as Crystal comes over and looks to her fans before bringing her fist down into his forehead mulitiple times! Crystal then again pulls Zack up and tries to whip him across ringside to the other railing, but he holds onto this railing for dear life, not letting her send him over, and ulitimately backdropping Crystal over the railing and into the crowd! Malibu hobbles away, trying to regain his composure, and doesn't see Crystal spring up onto the railing, keeping her balance like a cat and then leaping over to the ring apron, scurrying up the ropes frantically...AND WIPING MALIBU OUT WITH A FLIP DIVE TO THE OUTSIDE! COACH YO~! Crystal pops up, favoring her back still, but proudly looking out to the crowd who have increased their chant. Candie comes rushing over to tend to Zack, but Crystal won't allow it, shoving Candie aside and then pushing Zack into the ring under the bottom rope. Crystal climbs up on the apron, but Candie swipes her foot off, then smashes her head into the apron before rolling HER into the ring, happily having bought her man some time. The crowd boo's this little stunt, but then a wave of cheers comes over them, as now AXEL is storming down the aisleway, with Candie completely oblivious! CABOOSE Get that Aussie ass out of here, he has no business being out here. COLE Of course he does...if Candie can be out here with her boyfriend, than... CABOOSE Then why can't Crystal have her bitch out here. I gotcha. COLE That's not what I was going to say. CABOOSE Don't lie. Candie immediately runs to the other side of the ring, as Axel starts pounding on the apron in support of Crystal. Crystal is again the first one up, and looks to Axel in disbelief, not expecting him to be out here...AND TURNS AROUND INTO SCHOOL'S...NO! Crystal catches the foot of Malibu, and spins him around, pulling him into a standing headscissors and DRILLING him with a sitout powerbomb that makes Axel proud! ONE! TWO! TH-SHOULDERS UP! The crowd gasps in awe, and even Axel thought that Crystal had finally caught Zack off guard enough times to have defeated him once again, upping his streak this week to 0-4. With her arch nemesis down, Crystal drags him into center ring and sets him up, getting up and running over him in order to leap up for DIAMOND IN THE ROUGH...AND GETS SHOVED OFF THE ROPES DOWN INTO THE ARMS OF AXEL BY CANDIE! COLE GET HER OUT OF THE RING! The crowd let's the hot-yet-hated Candie have it, as she managed to save Zack from Crystal's finisher. Pissed as all hell, Crystal shoves Axel away to run back at Candie, who ducks out of the ring...AND LEAVES CRYSTAL PRONE FOR SCHOOL'S OUT! ONE! TWO! THREE...NO! NO! CRYSTAL KICKS OUT! COACH My heart...my heart... The fans roar as soon as they catch their breath, having gasped seeing Crystal fall to Malibu's superkick. Zack pounds the mat, angered at his inability to get the fall, as Axel looks at the man he eliminated to win the Rumble, and smiles. Zack scowls, but then smirks back to Axel, as he pulls a dazed Crystal up off the canvas and holds her in a front facelock, then reaches down and cradles her leg... FALLING STAR DRIVER...WAIT, AXEL IS ON THE RING APRON! CABOOSE See! He's a menace! Robinson rushes over, trying to prevent the Aussie sensation from coming after Zack, which is exactly what Zack wanted, as he immediately drops Crystal down and starts laughing. Malibu then goes over to Axel and leans over Robinson, pie-facing him and causing him to fall off the apron...and that REALLY angers Axel, as now he's fighting to get at the cocky prep! Crystal is starting to come to, pushing herself up, so Malibu runs to the ropes that run alongside her...ZACK ATTACK~! NO! CRYSTAL LEAPS INTO THE AIR AND SPEARS ZACK DOWN! COVER! ONE! TWO! THREE! But that count was from the fans, as Robinson is still busy with Axel! Crystal looks up and shouts for Axel to get down, which he does immediately seeing what's going on. Robinson turns, and Crystal goes down for the cover again...BUT MALIBU SUCKERS HER IN, CRADLING HER WITH A HANDFUL OF TIGHTS! ONE! TWO! THR-AXEL PULLS ROBINSON OUT OF THE RING! CABOOSE COME ON! COLE You come on! COACH Come on who? CABOOSE ...I'm not saying anything if you won't, Michael. Robinson is infuriated, berating Axel for what he just did. Axel tries to explain himself, while in the ring Crystal pulls Zack to his feet, but catches a headbutt in the midsection, then gets hooked, lifted...AND DROPPED WITH THE FALLING STAR DRIVER! PIN BY MALIBU! ONE! TWO! THREE! DING DING DING! Axel buries his head in his hands, as Malibu gets up and tilts his head back, basking in the glory of victory. CABOOSE He did it. Months later, nothing at stake but pride, and Zack Malibu made that bitch his bitch tonight! COLE You couldn't have just said "Malibu just put one over on Crystal" or something, could you? CABOOSE Yeah, but then I wouldn't be much of a heel, now would I? Axel immediately slides into the ring to console his flame, while Malibu looks down at the man who cost him an Anglemania title shot. Axel shoots back a glare and leaves Crystal's side, wanting to have a go at "The Franchise", but Malibu quickly ducks out of the ring, leaving Axel to tend to Crystal while he and Candie retreat up the aisle. Axel helps Crystal up and puts and arm around her, but the young spitfire is in no mood to cuddle, as she pulls away and questions Axel, all while holding her head in pain. Axel does his best to explain his motive for coming out, but Crystal cuts him off, instead choosing to exit the ring on her own accord! Axel follows, calling out to Crystal, but all she can do is walk with her head hanging low, having to deal with the fact that the one man who COULDN'T beat her, just did.

The cameras cut to a shot of Hoff being examined by one of the OAOAST's resident trainers. COLE Fans, you're looking at the man who will challenge Drek Stone, on February 27th, for the WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP, in his OWN HOMETOWN at Zero Hour. The trainer shines a light in each of Hoff's eyes, and the big man complies with the examination as best he can, showing some mild annoyance. HOFF I'm fine. The trainer ignores Hoff's self-diagnostic and checks his head for cuts, lumps and abrasions. CABOOSE You know, this is really making me sick. Here we have a guy who couldn't hang onto the title for a week, and he gets the most stacked deck in the history of wrestling...just unbelievable. COACH Well Boo-Boo-- CABOOSE What have I told you about calling me that. COACH You might have a valid complaint for once, as Zero Hour is gonna be right in Hoff's backyard, and you KNOW there's gonna be one hell of a turnout for tha H-man. The trainer, seemingly finished probing at the former World Champ, nods and puts his light away, telling Hoff he's okay. Hoff mutters something unintelligible, eyeing the doc with no small degree of contempt. COACH Hoff's apparently not real fond of the doctor's office! CABOOSE Whoa, did we stumble into the tag team division all of the sudden? COACH No, 'Booze, not the LOVE Doctors......just regular type. CABOOSE TGS~! COACH Totally. COLE Fans, if you missed the earlier parts of the show, you missed a vicious, two-on-one assault by Drek Stone and Chris Stevens on Hoff. COACH Stevens told the world that he'd never let Hoff hold the World Title again, which sorta puts he and Drek on the same page! COLE And after that, Axel making the save for Hoff, which sets up our big six-man tag for next week: Drek Stone, Chris Stevens, and Jumbo against Axel, Crystal, and Hoff. That's gonna be a-- Cole is cut short by a knock at the door, prompting Hoff to lift his head. The big man's expression turns...muddled, as AXEL enters the trainer's office. COACH Oh my! COLE Axel of course will face the winner of Drek and Hoff's title match at Anglemania IV, whomever it may be... Axel smiles at Hoff. AXEL Hey, mate. How ya feelin'? Hoff laughs to himself. HOFF Fine, man. Chris has been kicking my ass for years now, and it hasn't fazed me. Axel laughs slightly at the jest, and Hoff shakes his head. AXEL Well, we'll get 'em next week, eh? Anyway, I just wanted to check on ya, I'll leave you to yourself-- HOFF Whoa. Hold up a sec. Hoff stops Axel as the Dark One was heading out the door. Axel turns back slowly, not sure what to expect. AXEL ...Yeah? Hoff clears his throat. HOFF Look, uh...listen, I didn't mean to step on your toes by asking for a title shot. I mean, I know you're looking forward to your big night at Anglemania, but...I had to get what was rightfully mine. A small cheer goes up in the arena. HOFF You understand what I'm saying? Axel nods slowly. AXEL Listen, Hoff. You and me have been up and down the road. We're not always on the same page...far from it. But that sh** is in the past, man. You did some things, I did some things. We're both sons of bitches... The two fan favorites share a laugh. AXEL The point is, I do understand. You never lost the World Title. You deserve a shot, a rematch. I get it. Just as long as you get that if you do win, I'll be waiting. Hoff smlies, and extends a hand. HOFF Axel, man...facing you at the biggest event of all time...it'd be an honor. Axel smiles and clasps the hand. AXEL Likewise, mate. The two men smile and shake hands. Axel takes a step back, leaving Hoff sitting on the examiner's table. AXEL Next week, buddy. You and me, crackin' skulls. HOFF Brother, I can't wait. I'll see you there. Axel chuckles and steps backwards out the doorway, leaving Hoff griinning and shaking his head. *cut to SOFA CENTRAL OF DOOM~* Cole and Coach are grinnning. Caboose is...well, less happy. CABOOSE Holy hell, did we move to the Family Channel when I wasn't looking? COLE Well, I think it's great. CABOOSE GREAT?! It's nauseating! This isn't what wrestling is about!! It's about kicking ass. Hoff used to get that. How low the mighty have fallen. COACH What about Axel? CABOOSE Bollocks, I've never liked the wanker. COACH Playa hatin'. Shame, Booze. Shame. COLE Well in any event, it seems that Hoff and Axel are on the same page! That six man next week should be a big one! But we've got more yet tonight, so stay tuned!

(The side entrance door to the arena swings open and J. Arthur Edwards walks in followed by Chris Cain. The fans boo as the two of them walk towards the dressing rooms with their bags slung over their shoulders. Before they can make it to the locker room, however, they are cut off by the two men in suits from Williams & Horn.) SUIT #1 Why aren't you returning our calls? SUIT #2 Or our letters. J. ARTHUR Not you two again. Listen for the last time, I don't want anything to do with you! I never asked for the two of you to show up at the Rumble! I had planned on going out alone and all of the sudden you two show up and escort me to the ring! SUIT #1 Compliments of Mr. Williams and Mr. Horn. J. ARTHUR I thought you guys fired the two of us? Why do you want us back? SUIT #2 Mr. Williams and Mr. Horn realize that it was Father who caused all our troubles and not the two of you. They realize that they acted harshly and they wish to give you your jobs back. J. ARTHUR I don't need it anymore. I am perfectly happy focusing on wrestling. SUIT #1 You're perfectly happy living in a dump of an apartment and eating cold soup every day? J. ARTHUR What have you been having me followed!? SUIT #2 We know that you have been struggling to get by. That is why you returned to the OAOAST. We have people on the inside of the OAOAST who informed us that you came back to the OAOAST begging for your job back. J. ARTHUR You listen here! I climbed the corporate ladder myself and I know what it's like to be down! I'm not some spoiled rich kid and if I choose to live a more simple life then it's my business! I don't want anything to do with your company! Who's to say you won't can us when things go wrong again!? I don't trust your company...I should know since I spent so many years there! I'm surprised you didn't just try and find some way of getting that Robert Edwards clone out of prison again. SUIT #1 We couldn't even if we wanted to. J. ARTHUR Why's that? SUIT #2 Because he hung himself in his cell a month ago. (For a second JAE almost seemed saddened, but he came back to his senses.) J. ARTHUR See what happens when you spend to long working for Williams & Horn. That just strengthens my resolve to not come back to work for you. Now get out of my way so I can go to my locker room. (JAE and Cain leave as the two men in suits look unfazed., and we cut to the ring, where ‘One’ is cued up!) As the guns fire, the crowd reacts moderately for the Co-24/7 Champion, who enters in business attire. CABOOSE Well, if you missed AnglePalooza last Sunday, you missed one hell of a match! OAOAST Sunday at AnglePalooza Geddon once more pulls the Phenom up and goes towards the ropes, lifting him up and dropping him across them with a… SPRRROINNG!! …and over into a slingshot suplex! “THE ARMADA…FLOATOVER!! COVER!” ONE! TWO! REVERSED!! ONE! TWO! REVERSED AGAIN!! The duo rolls across the mat and the referee counts as they settle… ONE! TWO! THREE!!!!! DING DING DING!! The crowd is silent as the small package is broken, both men claiming their victory towards the referee, who stands there shaking his head. Geddon heads to the outside and grabs at his championship, only for the Phenom to pull it away from him! COLE WHO WON?! WHO WON?! HEBNER Ladies and Gentlemen…due to both men’s shoulders being down…it is in the best interest of the OAOAST that the winners of this match…and CO-TWENTY FOUR/SEVEN CHAMPIONS…. DEVIN GEDDON AND THE PHENOM!!” Geddon is now in the ring. GEDDON Aloha, Maui! (Crowd gives typical cheer) GEDDON Last Sunday, at AnglePalloza, I fought someone who I thought I could beat easily. But that wasn’t the case, now was it? It turns out that neither of us is better than the other one. It also turns out we have the same goal: Total Domination. Come out here, Phenom! (Cue: ‘Seven Nation Army’) The Phenom comes out, also dressed in a suit. CABOOSE What’s going on here? COACH That’s what I’d like to know. Just a week ago, these two were bitter rivals! The Phenom takes the microphone from Geddon. PHENOM Thanks, Dev. You know, wrestling is a funny thing. It’s like politics: If you know somebody, you are somebody. That’s why Devin and I have decided that we need to stick together if we want to get anywhere. That’s why me, Devin, and two of our friends have decided to create the Disciples of Chaos. Our only alliance is to ourselves. Our only friend is the ring. Our only goal is total domination. Do you want to see the next Disciple of Chaos? Crowd reacts less than stellar. GEDDON Well, he’s been known well in the OAOAST for longer than both of our careers, and he truly is a legend, Mr. Matthew A. Harms! (Cue: ‘Higher’) Crowd gives some heat as the (again) dressed-up “Mad” Matt Harms, but a lot of cheers grace him as he jogs to the ring. COLE Well, Matt Harms is apparently a Disciple of Chaos as well! COACH I have eyes, Mike! HARMS I’ve gotta tell you folks; when I saw these two guys in action at AnglePalooza, I thought to myself, ‘Man, these guys are good!’ And lo and behold, they wanted me to join their group. I figured, these two guys are in good condition. Maybe I can rub off some of my talents onto them. Perhaps we all are going be champs, right? All three cheer to each other. PHENOM And last, but definitely not least…our manager, Warren Peace! COLE Who? (Cue: ‘Personal Jesus’) PEACE BAM baby, that’s what I like! PHENOM We met this guy in a bathroom stall in Toronto. He seemed like a good guy, so we made him our manager. PEACE BAM baby, that’s what I like! GEDDON Isn’t he amazing, folks? PEACE BAM baby, that’s what I like! PHENOM You can be quiet now, Warren. PEACE … HARMS Well, people, you’ve just met the next dominant group in the OAOAST. VOICE Hold on! CABOOSE Huh? The Original Elite are standing at the front of the arena. Boo’s a-poppin. BLACK What did you say about being the next dominant group in the OAOAST? I believe we are the only people to be dominant in this company. You’re just 3 nobodies and some smelly old man! Suddenly, Warren Peace jets out of the ring and SPEARS~! into the Ice Heart! The audience is in an uproar as Zack and Tony have to bring him to the back! PEACE BAM baby, that’s what I like! (Cue: ‘Personal Jesus’) CABOOSE Did I just see what I thought I saw? COACH Did you see Ronald McDonald playing drums? CABOOSE No. COACH Then this was some bad cannabis. COLE I have nothing to say to you, John.

BUFFER The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL~! Suddenly, the Puerto Rican flag appears on the Angletron, and P.R.'s voice can be heard reading the following words, which appear in bold, blocky letters on the Tron. *THE CHAMP IS HERE!* And with that, "Know Your Role 99" hits the PA system! The arena lights go down, and begin flickering on and off as a thick roll of smoke fills the entrance. After a few moments of waiting, the arena fills with boos as the man himself emerges from the back, Stephen Joseph Popick at his side. BUFFER Introducing first, being accompanied to the ring by Stephen Joseph Popick, hailing from San Juan, Puerto Rico and weighing in tonight at 223 pounds, here is THA PUERTO RICAN~! The fans voice its disapproval as P.R. enters the ring and poses for the fans. "THE CHAMP IS HERE" can be heard being repeated over and over in the song as P.R. leans up against the turnbuckles, looking across the ring at his opponent. BUFFER And his opponent, hailing from Chicago, IL and weighing in tonight at 158 pounds, here is "TIME'S UP" THOMPSON!!!! COLE "Time's Up" Thompson??? COACH What the hell kinda name is that? CABOOSE That's the kinda name you find when senile Bill Watts goes shopping for wrestlers down at the local Wal-mart! COLE Stop it! P.R. making his in-ring return to HeldDOWN tonight. Of course, he was here last week, making his first appearance since being arrested in June, and he did a number on Panther! It was a disgusting attack orchestrated by he and Popick, and it nearly cost Panther his spot in the Lethal Rumble this past Sunday night! Luckily, though, Panther was able to show up for the Rumble, only to be screwed by P.R. once again! P.R. entering the Rumble... CABOOSE LEGALLY, Cole! Remember: P.R. was a legal participant! COLE Well, yes. P.R. took the backdoor into the match after Chris Bryte was injured in the X-Title 4 Way earlier in the evening! Panther was caught off guard, and thanks to P.R. and Popick, Panther was eliminated from the Rumble! CABOOSE Fairly! P.R. was a legal participant, Cole! He eliminated Panther LEGALLY! COLE Of course, Panther would return later in the match for revenge, aiding Crystal in eliminating P.R.... CABOOSE After entering the ring ILLEGALLY, Cole! Tell it like it is! COLE P.R. had it coming after what he had done to Panther! The son of a bitch got exactly what he deserved! CABOOSE (chuckles) Listen to you! Making excuses for Panther's illegal actions! Had someone like Drek Stone or Zack Malibu done what Panther'd done, you'd be damning their soul to hell! But since it's one of your favorites, since it's your buddy Panther, it's all good, huh? COLE P.R. brought it all on himself when he tried to take Panther out of the Rumble last week! That's my story and I'm sticking to it! CABOOSE Whatever. By now, Buffer has exited the ring and the music has died down. Referee Tim White calls for the bell. *DING DING DING* COLE This one is now underway! Tha Puerto Rican up against "Time's Up" Thompson. P.R.'s looking to shake off some of the ring rust in this one. The two men circle momentarily before tying up in the center of the ring. Thompson grabs a headlock on P.R., but's only able to maintain it momentarily, as P.R. quickly shoves him into the ropes. Thompson tries to rebounds, only to be sent to the mat via a P.R. shoulder block. P.R. flashes a smile into the crowd, drawing boos. CABOOSE Show some respect you idiots! Can't you see that THE CHAMP IS HERE?!?! COLE (scoffs) Muhammad Ali he isn't. VINCE McMAHON Yeah! STING LIKE A BUTTERFLYYYYYYY~! We cut to Sofa Central, where Coach, Cole and Caboose all turn to Vince and give him a weird look. After a moment or two of awkward silence, Vince leaves the announce area and hops into the crowd, tearing his OTHER quad in the process. Guards rush to his side as he rolls around on the floor in pain. COACH They just don't make quads like they used to, eh Boo Boo? CABOOSE Your mother! Back to action now...P.R. drives two knee lifts into the midsection of Thompson before grabbing a front facelock and bringing him over with a textbook vertical suplex! He rolls through and brings him back to his feet, only to take him over with another vertical. He holds on and rolls through again, bringing him back to his feet for a third vertical, after which, P.R. pops back to his feet and raises a double fist. He laughs sinisterly as the crowd jeers him, then looks into the main camera and yells the words "THIS IS FOR YOU, PANTHER"! He then turns back to Thompson, who's groggily pulling himself back to his feet. With SJ rooting him on from the outside, P.R. rushes him from behind and knocks him to his knees with a clubbing forearm. He then catches Thompson by the hair and the back of his tights and charges forward, sending the unknown sailing up and over the top rope and to the floor. His body smacks hard off the ringside mats, and P.R. thrusts his arms into the air, reveling in the jeers of the capacity crowd as he backs out to the center of the ring. COLE Oh...Tha Puerto Rican trying to rub it in! CABOOSE Yup! That was ALMOST as good as when P.R. sent Panther sailing up over the top the other night! ALMOST. COACH Yeah...and speaking of Panther... CABOOSE What?! The crowd's jeers transform into cheers, and the fans begin to come off the edge of their seats as Panther slides into the ring with a chair! P.R. is so busy celebrating that last move, he doesn't see him coming! CABOOSE Oh my gosh! P.R.! Look out! Look out! SJ is frantically slapping the mat trying to warn P.R. of Panther's presence, but it's no use. With a smile on his face, P.R. slowly turns around... *WHAM!* ...and has both that smile and his head nearly taken off via a SKULL SHATTERING~! Panther chairshot! *DING DING DING* BUFFER Here is your winner, as a result of a disqualification...THA PUERTO RICAN~! CABOOSE What the hell is this, Cole?!?! COLE Panther...Panther's just laid out Tha Puerto Rican! Panther damn near took his head off with that shot! CABOOSE Damn it, no fair! Chants of "PAN-THER, PAN-THER!" echo throughout the arena as the Champ of Champs looks down upon his rival, a smug look on his face as P.R. lay motionless on the canvas! Looking to follow up, Panther slowly brings the chair above his head...ONLY TO HAVE POPICK ENTER THE RING AND SNATCH THE WEAPON FROM HIS HANDS! The crowd boos as Panther turns to face SJ, who begins screaming obscenities into his face! CABOOSE Thank God for Popick! COACH Yeah! I dunno about saving the board, but he damn sure saved P.R.'s ass there! COLE Popick giving Panther the badmouth in there! P.R. is still down after that chairshot from Panther! And it looks as if SJ is about to give Panther the same treatment! He rears back with the chair and swings...BUT PANTHER DUCKS UNDER THE SHOT, and manages to wrap Popick up in a rear waistlock and FOLD HIM UP with a sickening German suplex! The crowd goes crazy in the background as Panther pops back to his feet and begins putting the boots to Popick! COLE Panther's all over Popick! Panther is beating the hell outta Stephen Joseph in that ring! CABOOSE This is not right! This is no way to treat a member of the OAOAST Corporate Office! Referee White tries to pull Panther off of Popick, but gets shoved onto his ass for his troubles. Panther then walks over to where the chair lay on the canvas and lifts it up, drawing another pop from the crowd. He then turns back to Popick and motions for him to rise! Popick does so...slowly, and as soon as his feet are under him... *WHAM!* ...PANTHER BLASTS HIM WITH A VICIOUS CHAIRSHOT!!!!! The impact sends Popick tumbling through the ropes and to the outside! COLE What a shot by Panther, there! Stephen Joseph Popick has just been obliterated, and what's Panther gonna do now? CABOOSE He needs to be arrested if you ask me! Where's Watts?! Where's Abe Vigoda?! Send this moron to jail and send him now! Blood is dripping down P.R.'s forehead as he slowly begins to push himself up off the canvas, at which point Panther turns to him with a sinister smile. His body begins to tremble with rage as he inches closer to his foe, begging and pleading for him to get up. P.R.'s able to push himself up to his hands and knees, at which point Panther brings the chair up over his head... CABOOSE Oh no! OH NO! COLE Panther's got that chair...he's gonna do some more damage to Tha Puerto Rican! P.R. is able to get one foot under him, at which point he slowly raises his head, locking eyes with Panther. Another smile crosses Panther's face, and P.R's eyes widen with fear as Panther begins to bring the chair down... ...AND... *WHAM!* MS. LINDSAY GONZALEZ ENTERS THE RING AND BLASTS HIM WITH A LOW BLOW FROM BEHIND!!!!!!!! The crowd boos loudly as Panther drops the chair and falls to his knees clutching at the injured area! COLE That's :Lindsay Gonzalez! Lindsay Gonzalez has come to the aid of Tha Puerto Rican! My God... CABOOSE My God, Cole! Do you know what this means?! COACH Yeah! It means I get to see that ass back on HeldDOWN again! BOOYA!!!! CABOOSE No, you moron...IT MEANS THE LIGHTNING CREW IS BACK!!!!! THE LIGHTNING CREW HAS RETURNED!!!!!! Lindsay kneels over her man, helping him back to his feet as Panther lay injured on the mat. Suddenly, the crowd bursts into a fit of cheers as Tina rushes from the back with a chair. Lindsay and P.R. slide to the floor as soon as she hits the ring, and quickly start towards the ramp as Tina kneels down to check on Panther. COLE P.R. and Lindsay making an escape on the floor! P.R. able to escape Panther's wrath thanks to Lindsay Gonzalez... CABOOSE But realize what this means, Cole! It means the Lightning Crew is back! The Lightning Crew has made it's return to the OAOAST! COLE Could it be true??!? Is the Lightning Crew back in the OAOAST??!?! By now, Popick has joined up with P.R. and Lindsay and together, the trio heads back to the locker room as Panther and Tina eye them intently from the ring... and we cut to Zack stalking down the hall, with his usual "happy" demeanor. He gets to the trainers room and barges in. ZACK God I need a massage or something. My arm is freaking killing me! Now do your job and do something about-oh, it's you. The camera follows Zack's sneered look and, lo and behold, it's Crystal! CRYSTAL Pleasure to see you too, jackass. ZACK Oh, aren't we the catty one? And why are you in here? Sorry bitch, this isn't a veterinarian. You can't get your muzzle fitted here. CRYSTAL You must have this confused with a glue factory. ZACK What? CRYSTAL (feigning surprise) Oh, you were looking to get your lame ass shot and get it over with? ZACK You bitch! CRYSTAL Huh, Has Been Malibu. New catchphrase Zack! I won't even charge for royalities! ZACK (snorting) Oh please. Once you leave high school, leave all the lame jokes with it. CRYSTAL The irony of you of all people telling me to get out of high school is grand, just grand. ZACK With your little romance with Axel, seems to me it fits. Tell me Chrissy, how did it feel to get eliminated by your sweetheart? And so close to Valentine's Day! Ouch! CRYSTAL I gotta admit Zack, I felt a lot worse when I lost three times in once night. (Crystal pauses, and then smacks forehead) Oh right, that was you! 0 for 3! Zack stalks over to Crystal and looms over her. ZACK Listen bitch, don't go there. CRYSTAL Please Malibu, you think you intiminate me? Hate to break it to ya big boy, but you don't. ZACK Like hell I don't. The only reason why you're being so brave right now is because you know the moment you get in any trouble, big bad boyfriend will come to the rescue. Well, unless you stand in his way to get what he wants. CRYSTAL That is ridiculous, and you know it! Listen jerk.... The door opening interrupts Crystal and the crowd pops hard for who it is, therefore it must be.... AXEL Hey! What the hell is going on here? ZACK (smirking at Crystal) Case in point. AXEL If you know what's good for you, you'll get the hell out before I decorate this room with your blood! ZACK (putting his hands up in a surrendering gesture) No need for violence Axel. I was just leaving. With a final knowing smirk to Crystal, Zack leaves and Axel turns to her, concerned. AXEL You okay? CRYSTAL (angry) I'm fine! You didn't need to do that, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, you know! Crystal shoves past Axel and stomps out of the door as we fade to black on Axel's very, very confused face. And now we fade to commercial.

The arena goes dark momentarly and then colored strobe lights flash about all over the audience. ABBA's Dancing Queen Hits and some bubbles spray into the air from the entrance way. As the bubbles begin to thin out The 70s Dude is revealed at the top with a smug grin on his face doing some weird dance. He does the Hustle all the way to the ring, getting in and beckoning to the ring attendant for a microphone. The ring attendan hustles to get a microphone, and tosses it to the 70s Dude, who catches it... with panache! The 70s Dude holds the mic at his side, loking around the arena before beginning to speak. THE 70S DUDE The 70s Dude has been here for less than a month and he's already cutting through those squares in the back like nothing. I came here for a challenge and the only challenging thing I've found is... The 70s Dude takes a dramatic pause, the fans listening breathlessly... THE 70S DUDE ...getting my sex kittens into the dressing room before they're scared off by the stray cats filling this arena, looking for my autograph, oh! Have mercy! The crowd, however, shows no mercy on the 70s Dude, harshly booing him! The Dude can do nothing but patiently wait for the crowd to quiet down, but as it becomes apparent that they won't quiet down, Dude raises the mic to his lips and speaks again. THE 70S DUDE You boo all you want, but the Dude is the only thing worth watching here. Ain't a person in the back that could hang with the Dude in a ring or in the clubs. The namesake of this joint left, your heroes are long gone and all you got now is The Dude. So it's time you fans got down or got out, 'cause ain't a cat around here who's able to change it. The 70s Dude grins smugly, basking in the truth of his answers as the booing of the crowd swells around him. The people are speaking, and they don't like The 70s Dude... "THREE-TWO-ONE!" "I'M THE BOMB!" ... and as "I'm the Bomb" by the Electric Six hits and Calvin Szechstein comes out from behind the curtain, it becomes obvious from his expression that he doesn't like the 70s Dude, either! For once in his life, Calvin steps out to cheers, mic in hand, and what was moments ago a smug looking grin has now turned into a shocked and lost look. The Dude doesn't seem to know what's going on, but Calvin Szechstein is about to open his eyes. CALVIN Hey, dude? Shut your mouth and listen up, because tonight you just might learn something. The crowd pops, and the Dude keeps quiet, apparently wanting to learn as Calvin continues speaking. CALVIN I don't know if you're aware, dude, but you're in the presence of a man who single-handedly brought ratings to this fed for two years. You're looking at the man who brought the HeldDown brand to prominence, the man who holds the record for longest OAOAST World title reign, the man who ushered in an entirely new era in the OAOAST... and now, with all the heroes of the OAOAST long gone, it's time for someone else to step into that role. For too long, I've found myself being a corporate puppet, but they turned their back on me, and they gave me up for dead. But Calvin Szechstein is a phoenix, baby, and from the ashes is coming the hottest thing in the fed, a comet that's ready to rock the OAOAST's world... Calvin pauses, the intensity in his voice quieting the crowd and the 70s Dude. A devilish smile crosses his face and his eyes shimmer as he glares at the Dude. CALVIN ... and dude, I'm coming for you first. Calvin throws the mic away, tearing off his warmup shirt and stalking towards the ring, the crowd roaring for this new side of Calvin Szechstein! He slides into the ring, looking like he could kill the Dude... but the 70s Dude wants no part of that altercation, not here anyway, and he rolls out of the ring! He begins backtracking up the ramp, Szechstein glowering at him as he begins to speak. THE 70S DUDE Whoa, whoa, whoa big fella. The Dude has all the respect in the world for the former champ. These fans can scream for my head all they want but there ain't gonna be a rumble going down between us. The Dude gets the message...you're the cat on top of things round here. I can dig it...I can dig it... The Dude slowly retreats behind the curtain and out of view, but the cameras are giving the rejuvenated Szechstein all the love, the crowd roaring for his return as we fade to commercial...

COLE I'd like to welcome in Jesse "The Body" Ventura, who'll provide color commentary for our next event -- an Anderson Cup opening round match pitting the Global Party XChange against the current HI-YAH International tag team champions, The Love Doctors. Both teams are very well liked by the fans, with many wrestling insiders predicting the winner of this match will go on and win the whole thing. VENTURA Well, you have two teams going in opposite directions, Michael Cole. The Global Party XChange haven't been the same since losing the tag belts to The Original Elite. They look a little tired. The Love Doctors, meanwhile, have been on a roll since winning the HI-YAH International titles from Black T. I've experienced fame, Michael Cole, and I know what it can do to you, and Dr. Stowe and Dr. Delgado have been developing quite an ego. This one could go either way, but I think GPX will win because they're desperate. And desperate men do desperate things. Heh heh. COLE You are certainly entitled to your opinion. But I think this will be a very clean wrestling match, with the Love Doctors prevailing at the end. As you said, they're on a roll. In a world full of posers, phonies, and pure wannabee's there finally emerges a group which has come to set the record straight. So, all you suckers better recognize, ya heard? Can you say uhhh na na na na... BUFFER The following contest is an opening round Anderson Cup match set for one fall. Introducing first, from Hotlanta, weighing 192 pounds, Scotty Static. His partner, from the 313, weighing 215 pounds, Johnny "Jam" Jackson. THE GLOBAL PARTY XCHANGE! The strobe lights flickering, green lasers beam throughout the arena, the Global Party XChange finally emerge onstage. Scotty and Johnny point all around the arena, rocking their heads to the beat, as they slap hands with many of their fans ringside. They jump on the ring apron, point to each other and sommersault into the ring. The GPX continue rocking their heads to the beat, dancing in the ring, as the OAOAST pays some bills. COLE OAOAST HeldDOWN~! is being brought to you by... Viagra. Stiff, hard hitting action is no longer just OAOAST wrestling. VENTURA And by "O" Magazine. You won't get one with Oprah on the cover. But if you get really drunk, you might. COLE OAOAST presents ZERO HOUR on Sunday, February 27th. Call your local cable or satellite operator to order today! "Calling Dr. Love" by KISS drowns out "Make Her Say," and the Love Doctors appear on the rampway. Windy City Hospital's finest are wearing surgical masks and caps, along with white lab coats over their red scrubs. The Love Doctors strut down the aisle, stopping at the sight of a BIG BREASTED BLONDE. "SHOW YOUR TITTIES!" * clap clap clapclapclap * "SHOW YOUR TITTIES!" * clap clap clapclapclap * "SHOW YOUR TITTIES!" * clap clap clapclapclap * VENTURA Those things are as big as a turkey, Cole. Oh, I forgot. You're probably not enjoying this. COLE Actually, I am. VENTURA (sarcastically) Yeah, and I think you're the best play-by-play man in the business. The Docs pull the big breasted blonde over the security railing and become her private dancers. The big breasted blonde giggles as Dr. Max Anderson and Dr. Steven Pigley seductively remove their lab coats, rubbing them between their legs and draping them around her neck. Anderson and Pigley bump and grind the lady as they remove their scrubs, their eyes always directed at the women's large rack. Once their scrubs are fully remove, the big breasted blonde kisses them on the cheek and the Docs sprint into the ring, sliding underneath the bottom rope. * DING DING DING * All 4 men are in the ring. Referee Nick Patrick stands between them, making sure nothing happens, although that is likely unnecessary as both teams respect each other. To the delight of the crowd, Scotty, Johnny, Dr. Max, Dr. Steven all shake hands. Johnny and Dr. Max exit the ring, leaving us with Scotty Static and Dr. Steven Pigley. After one last handshake, both men lockup. Wristlock into the armbar by Dr. Steven Pigley. Scotty sommersaults to the mat, kipping up and sweeping Dr. Steven's legs out from under him, diving on him for an early two count. Dr. Pigley sends Scotty across the ring with an armdrag. The two lock back up, and this time it's Scotty who tosses Dr. Pigley across the ring with an armdrag. Dr. Steven charges Scotty with a clothesline, but Static ducks under it, bounces off the ropes, leapfrogs over Pigley, uses the middle rope as a springboard and lands on Dr. Pigley with a SPRINGBOARD MOONSAULT. 1... 2... KICKOUT! Scotty stands by his corner as Dr. Pigley rests on one knee, nodding and smiling at Scotty, both men soaking in the fans' cheers for their opening squence. They meet back in the center of the ring and shake hands, much to the liking of the female fans in attendence, all the yelling and screaming making you feel like you're at a teenybopper concert. VENTURA That's disgusting. That's like kissing your sister. You don't let the other guy know he took it to you. Tag made by both teams. In come Johnny "Jam" Jackson and Dr. Max Anderson. Collar-and-elbow tieup, Dr. Anderson using his weight and slight height advantage to take control with a side headlock. J.J. Jackson shoots him to the ropes. Johnny falls to his stomach, Dr. Max hops over the top, ducks under a leapfrog and gets kicked square in the jaw as he bounces back off the ropes with a well executed DROPKICK. Johnny doesn't allow his opponent to get much of a breather, immediately scooping him up for a slam, but Dr. Anderson rolls through for a SMALL PACKAGE, the same way Ric Flair defeated Ricky "The Dragon" Steamboat to win his 6th World title back in 1989. 1... 2... KICKOUT! Dr. Max wraps his arms around Johnny, trapping Jackson's arms between their bodies, and slams him down to the mat with a belly-to-belly suplex. Two count. It's becoming very clear that both teams strategy is to win this match as quick as possible, thus saving themselves the bumps and bruises for later tournament matches. Irish whip. Dr. Max makes the mistake of ducking his head, leaving himself wide open to a clubber forearm shot to the back. Johnny tucks the arm between the legs and lifts Anderson up in a PUMP HANDLE, the prelude to PUMP HANDLE PILEDRIVER, otherwise known as the BEAT DROP. But Dr. Anderson counters it into a HURRICARANA. Japanese armdrag by Anderson. Another armdrag takedown, this time into an armbar. Anderson drags Johnny to his corner and makes the tag to Dr. Steven Pigely. Dr. Steven comes off the top with a double axe-handle to the arm, then reapplies the armbar. Pigley cranks down on the arm, wrenching it. Jackson showing he's more than just a high-flyer, which is like the stars of the O.C. saying they're actors, by ducking under the armbar and applying a hammerlock. Unfortunately for Johnny "Jam," his brief venture as wrestler is short-lived as Dr. Pigley counters his hammerlock into one of his own. Johnny thinks about throwing an elbow to the head but decides to take another route, instead of using a commonly used cheapshot. Jackson puts his right hand between his legs and takes Pigley down with a single-leg takedown. Johnny tries to capitalize by hitting a cannonball (somersault splash) but Pigley rolls out of the way, causing J.J. Jackson to land on the canvas, the impact of the blow echoing throughout the arena. The adrenaline running through his body allows Johnny to absorb the blow, until tomorrow morning, and go up for a dropkick. But Pigley swipes his feet away, sending Jackson facefirst into the mat. Dr. Steven grabs Johnny's legs and rolls him on his back. Steven Pigley, M.D. positions his feet under the shoulderblades and slingshots Jackson into the ropes. Jackson ricochets off the ropes and comes crashing down on his back on Pigley's knees. THE CHIROPRACTOR. COLE Oh, my! VENTURA The only person upset about that is Johnny Jackson's chiropractor. He ain't gonna be comin' in for his scheduled appointment this week, I can guarantee you that. 1... 2... SCOTTY WITH THE SAVE. COLE Dr. Steven doesn't look to please with that. I think he's upset Scotty kicked him hard in the head. VENTURA I don't know why Dr. Delgado is upset. That's part of tag team wrestling. There are times when you gotta make the save, and that was one of those times for the GPX. By the way, Cole, have you seen anything new on Lifetime lately? COLE As a matter of fact, yes. You were in Batman & Robin with Vivica A. Fox, right? VENTURA Right. COLE Well, she has this great show on Lifetime called Missing. It's about two F.B.I. a-- VENTURA You're gonna go missing if you keep watching Lifetime, Cole. COLE What about your boy, Tony Brannigan? He watches Desperate Housewives. VENTURA Now you listen here, little man. He just so happened to stumble across that show while channel surfing. It ain't his fault hot women roam all over that show. Unlike those 4 punks in the ring, Tony likes women who know what they want. He ain't got time to play all the these games that young, imature women do. Now that I think about it, it's kinda makes sense you're going after a guy who watches a show filled with hot ladies, Cole. I mean, you don't even like ladies, do ya? I heard your father always wanted a girl so she could be "daddy's little princess," but I bet he didn't expect his own son would play that role. COLE Now you shut up! And for your information, buster... VENTURA Buster?! COLE (CONT'D) ...I like watching shows with hot women on it. Two of my favorite shows, Strong Medicine and Missing, have hot women on it. So there! VENTURA It's a WOMEN'S network, Cole! COLE Well, you take away the "W" and "O" and you got MEN'S network. You know what? I don't have time for this. We have a great match going on in the ring, and I'll be damned if I go down in the gutter with you. VENTURA Good thing. I wouldn't want you going down on anything with me. The Love Doctors with the tag. Dr. Max Anderson is climbing to the top. Dr. Steven Pigley has Johnny up in a bearhug. He squats down, exposing "Jam's" upperbody. They're going for the LETHAL EJECTION! Dr. Max is set to deliver one of the most spectalucar moves in the world today -- the SHOOTING STAR ELBOW DROP. Scotty Static is SHAKING the top rope, trying to knock Dr. Anderson off-balance. Dr. Max looks like he's walking a tight rope, trying to keep himself from falling on the top turnbuckle. Scotty shakes the ropes faster and harder. OOF! VENTURA Looks like Dr. Max Anderson just got a free vasectomy. If only we could do that to J.R. I hear rumors he wants to be a sperm donor. COLE Dr. Max is straddling the top turnbuckle. He's gonna be indisposed for awhile. With the bearhug stilled applied on Johnny, Scotty enters the ring and hits the ropes, dropkicking Dr. Steven in the back. No longer in control, Johnny uses the blow to hit Dr. Pigley with a SWINGING DDT! Pigley lies on his back in the center of the ring. On his stomach, Johnny crawls to his corner, inch by inch. Scotty slaps the top turnbuckle, chants of "JOHNNY" ringing through the arena. TAG MADE. The crowd EXPLODES as Scotty Static enters the ring. Scotty makes his first order of business going after the legal man. He sprints to the corner, running over Dr. Pigley's stomach, and SPRINGBOARDS to the top rope, wrapping his legs around Dr. Anderson's neck and brings him back down ONTO DR. PIGLEY noless with a HURRICARANA! The crowd is going wild for the tremendous atlethicism shown by Scotty Static. The adrenaline running through his veins, Scotty shouts "Shit, yeah, motherfuckers!" COLE We're broadcasting on HBO now! VENTURA (chuckles) With some of the things we've seen in the past, that may not be the worse. Scotty covers both Doctors. 1... 2... DOUBLE KICKOUT! The crowd lets out a collective sigh. The GPX portion of the crowd booing, the Love Doctors portion cheering. They, nor GPX can believe the Love Doctors managed to kickout of all that. COLE MY GOD! What will it take? VENTURA This is what it's all about. It's all about the tag team championship. It's about wrestling in the biggest show of the year for the top prize in your division. This is what professional wrestling is all about, Cole. You can be the biggest promotion in the world, with all the gimmicks you'd like, but in the end, it's all about the wrestling. You either got it or you don't. Both these teams got it. And I'm for one proud to be calling this match. COLE Amen to that, brother. Scotty Static is going absolutely crazy in the ring, throwing a minitantrum, stomping his feet and kicking the ropes. He whips Dr. Anderson in the corner. Squeezing Max's jaw tightly, Scotty says, "You ain't gonna keep us from those tag titles, you hear, bitch?" Scotty connects with a well placed punch to the jaw, Dr. Anderson's head snapping back. Static unloads a series of punches, kicks and knife edge chops to the doctor from Windy City Hospital. Scotty once again squeezes Dr. Max's jaw, telling him "I told ya. You ain't gonna deny us what's ours. You hear me? Huh? Do you, bitch?" SLAP! The fans gasps. They all rise to their feet, wondering what'll happen next. VENTURA Whoa! COLE Scotty obviously a bit frustrated by not being able to put away the Love Doctors. And I can't say I blame him. Jesse Ventura talked about how the GPX haven't had a sense of direction since losing the straps to The Original Elite at the end of 2004. They're obsessed with getting the belts back...maybe at all costs. Dr. Max Anderson's face becomes filled with rage. The left side of his face left with a bright red imprint of Scotty's right hand. Static stares deep into the eyes of Dr. Anderson, perhaps realizing what he's done in the heat of the moment. SLAP! COLE He did it again! VENTURA Oh, it's gonna get good now, Cole. Finally somebody has cracked under the heat of the battle. Dr. Anderson's blood pressure must be skyrocketing off the charts. He looks like he's ready to explode. And Scotty is mockingly shaking his head, as if saying, whatcha gonna do. Gritting his teeth, Dr. Anderson runs his hands through his hair and THROWS Scotty into the corner. Rights, lefts, kicks, chops. Static is rocked. Then out of nowhere, JOHNNY "JAM" JACKSON jumps on Dr. Anderson's back, pummeling him with forearms to the back of the head. DR. STEVEN PIGLEY pulls J.J. Jackson off his partner, and now the two begin exchanging blows. VENTURA All hell's breaking loose now. The crowd is an an absolute FRENZY as a pier-six brawl erupts in the ring. Referee Nick Patrick tries to restore order, but the guys are having none of that P.C. bullshit. All 4 men exchange heavy fire in the center of the ring, the cheers growing louder with every haymaker thrown. GPX rake -- yes, RAKE -- the Love Doctors in the eyes. The Docs sent into the ropes. They duck under a double clothesline, hit the ropes and nail GPX with a DOUBLE CLOTHESLINE of their own. GPX bail out of the ring to regroup. Just as they rise back to their feet, they look up to see TWO MEN DIVING over the top rope and hitting them with a pair of PESCADOS! VENTURA I don't even know who the legal men are. COLE I think it's Scotty Static and Dr. Max Anderson. The Docs toss Scotty back into the ring. Dr. Pigley with an inverted atomic drop. But he keeps Scotty on his knee as Dr. Anderson hits the ropes and connects with a dropkick. THE LOVE-MATIC GRANDPA! 1... 2... SAVE MADE! Dr. Steven hits Johnny with a SPINNING HEEL KICK, knocking him out of the ring. Dr. Max signals it's time for another dose of STRONG MEDICINE. Dr. Max hoist Static above his head, Dr. Steven hits the ropes. Unbeknownst to Dr. Steven, Johnny sneaks back in the ring, and KICKS DR. MAX LOW, just as Dr. Pigley is in mid-air for the clothesline portion of the double-team maneuver. COLE Dr. Steven just narrowly misses the clothesline as Scotty rolls Dr. Max up in a SMALL PACKAGE. VENTURA And that's exactly what he'll have. 1... 2... 3! * DING DING DING DING * Dr. Steven makes a last ditch attempt to breakup the pin, but it's too late. Scotty rolls out of the ring, joining Johnny "Jam" Jackson on the arena floor. The crowd isn't sure what to make of this. The females are going wild, while the men have a more mixed reaction. BUFFER Ladies and gentlemen, the winners of the match, advancing to the second round of the Anderson Cup -- THE GLOBAL PARTY XCHANGE! The shrieks and screams of the females fill the air, but a few noticeable boos as well. Scotty and Johnny pump their fists, while Dr. Steven Pigley has a few choice words for them as they head backstage to the music of "Make Her Say" by O-Town. VENTURA I don't know why Dr. Stowe and Dr. Delgado are upset. Win if you can, lose if you must, be always cheat. Winning is what it's al about, Cole. If that means you gotta break a few friendships and make a couple of enemies, so be it. I'd much rather have money and gold than friends who'll keep asking to lend them a few dollars. COLE I'm sure you would. The Anderson Cup tournament has certainly started off with a bang. Jesse, I wanna thank you for joining me. It was a great honor, even with all the jokes at my expense. VENTURA It's been your pleasure. I had a blast. But the night isn't over yet. The tag team championships of the world are still to be defended. And I predict Black T will regain the gold later tonight. COLE You predictions didn't go too well at Anglepalooza. VENTURA Tonight's a different night.

Scene opens with Bill Watts sitting at his desk, leaning back in his chair. He has a rather large smile on his face as he speaks to an anonymous person. WATTS Well, the role of HeldDown General Manager will be quite difficult...you have to deal with the likes of Drek Stone, Axel...Zack Malibu...they can be very forceful at times. PERSON Mr. Watts...I have a five month old daughter at home...I know how to deal with children. WATTS That's another thing...you're going to be away from your family a majority of the year...can you deal with that? PERSON Well...no...I mean, I have to be there for my daughter... WATTS Then maybe the job isn't right for you. PERSON ...Can I bring her with me? WATTS Of course you can. But you can't let your motherly duties get in the way of being a General Manager. PERSON Oh, I know...I'm fully capable of being a mother to my daughter AND the wrestlers. WATTS What about Ken? PERSON Well, he's going with Austin on a six month tour of Europe...some "becoming brothers again" thing...I dunno....anyway, that gives me time. WATTS Well then...One last time, are you SURE you want to do this? PERSON Oh yes. Very much so. WATTS Then, Josie Baker...welcome back to HeldDown. The camera pans around to show JOSIE!!! sitting in the plush leather chair. She wears a grey zipped up hoodie and tiiiiiight black pants. She smiles wide and stands. JOSIE Can't wait, Bill. With that, Josie turns around and walks out of the room. The screen fades to black... ...and then cuts to the parking lot, where Dan Black and Tony Brannigan are walking~! In their trademark snappy suits and shades, Black T stride into the building, removing their glasses and glaring at anyone getting in their way. COLE Here we see Black T, fresh off a second successive title loss on pay per view...tonight they have a shot at reclaiming those OAOAST tag belts...we'll see if we can get someone to speak with them... Black T stop. Josh Matthew is in their way. J.Math, fresh off a beating from Brannigan a week ago, trembles in his boots. JOSH Gentlemen, I appreciate- Brannigan slaps him hard across the face, sending the dimunitive J.Math crumpling into a heap. Black T continue their match, until a fat man with a shiny head emerges in front of then. MEAN GENE Now, Black T, this is a big night- Dan throws Gene face first into the wall. Black T step over his body and walk on. COLE Can ANYONE get this interview? Jesse Ventura appears from a side room. Black T stop in their tracks, but don't look any less ferocious. TONY This isn't a good time, Jess. VENTURA Boys, you took a bad loss at Anglepalooza. You've got to have something to say about it. Dan and Tony look at each other. BLACK You know, we were going to let our forthcoming victory to all the talking. But I've had a few things on my mind, I must admit. The more I think about our loss on Sunday, the more it gets under my skin. It's really bothering me. So much so, I havn't even been able to make love to my quota of the Black T groupies. TONY It's true. Jivin' JR has had to take over. All three men shudder. BLACK Because, you see, I can accept losing to a team of fine athletes, a team of competitors. If I'm pinned by the New New Midnight Express, Hell's Hitmen- even... Dan swallows with distaste. BLACK The "Love Doctors" or "Gee Pee Ex". But to lose to a pair of filthy slags like those? No, I - we- won't stand for it. How did that Alix cow get into the OAOAST anyway? Through the idiot Northstar, that's how. And don't think we've forgotten what Northstar did to IntenseZone. My show. Our show. Black swallows with emotion. His partner steps in. TONY Ladies, we've played with you. You may be chicks over dicks, but we're pricks with dicks. And a whole lotta bad attitude. I admit it, wrestling girls was an intrigue for me, I'd never done it before. At least, not in front of an audience. At least, not in front of an audience in a public arena. At least - but that doesn't matter. Girls, tonight, I'm deadly serious when I say you'll get no more mercy from Tony Brannigan. No pulled punches. None of that playful spanking I know you love. Just an Out of Body Experience you'll never forget. VENTURA Gentlemen, I salute your confidence and resolve. One more question, if I may. The Original Elite. How is the moral in your group, post Anglepalooza? Dan and Tony look at each other once more. BLACK Just fine, Jess. Why wouldn't it be? VENTURA Some people - some cynical, troublemaking people - have suggested there might be some tension between yourself and Zack Malibu, given the manner of your elimination from the Lethal Rumble. Dan puts his sun glasses back on and smoothes back his hair. BLACK Jess, you know as well as I that business is business. Remember last years Rumble, when I made the final three? Zack cost me that match too. It's the nature of the game we play. Next year, who knows, I might eliminate Zack. But as for Sunday, I shook Zack's hand after the show, and told him how sorry I was he didn't beat that creepy bastard Axel. TONY The Elite is more together, more focused, stronger than ever. Tonight, a natural order is restored. You know, I expect we'll hear those girls run their mouths as usual at some point before the match. But as you and Black T know, Jess, that there's only one thing a woman's mouth is good for. Tony grins lecherously and grabs his balls. Jesse and Dan laugh. BLACK Maybe one more thing women's mouths are good for, Mr.Brannigan. TONY What's that, Mr.Black? BLACK Getting punched. Black T shake hands with "The Body", and walk onwards. COLE Did Tony mean what I think he meant? CABOOSE Yeah. COLE Wow! I knew women used their mouths to clean themselves! I just knew it! Disgusting! I can't believe I kissed one once! CABOOSE Er... COACH Well, I can't believe Dan Black just advocated hitting women! CABOOSE But Black T have to hit them. They're in a match against women. COACH Well, that's a bad example 4 da kidz! CABOOSE So are you two, comedy gay man and comedy black man. Now shut up. I have a feeling something else is going to happen right about..........now. We cut back to Josh Matthews in the ACTIONZONE~! J.MATH Was poppin'. pizzimps! This is your boy, Josh Matthews! And right now, I'm standing with a man who recently made his OAOAST return after 8 months in calabozo! 8 months in the pokey! The big house! The slammer! The blue bar hotel! The... THA PUERTO RICAN (off-camera) I think they get the point, Josh! J.MATH ...right! With me now is Tha Puerto Rican, alongside his associate, Stephen Joseph Popick. P.R. and SJ step into camera view, receiving jeers from the fans watching from within the arena. Neither man looks happy as they approach Matthews. . J.MATH Now, P.R., it's good to have you back with us on HeldDOWN, but I'm sure that everybody's wondering just what it was like for you in jail. I mean...being locked away for 8 months...8 LONG MONTHS, P.R.! THA PUERTO RICAN Yeah, and I wouldn't mind doing 8 more if you don't know your role and shut your damn mouth... P.R. rears back and starts after J.Math, but Popick catches him before he can do any damage to the announcer. He takes a deep breath and turns to the main camera, his face twisted with anger. THA PUERTO RICAN You wanna know about my time in jail, Matthews?! Well I'll tell ya, Matthews--IT WAS HELL! It was absolute hell being locked away from this business! Being locked away from my destiny--the OAOAST World Heavyweight Championship! (sighs) For the past 8 months, that belt has been on my mind, Matthews! All I've been able to think about was the day that I was released from that cell! The day when I'd be able to return to this company and claim what's rightfully mine! And Anglepalooza was my chance to do just that, Matthews! This past Sunday night I set foot in that Lethal Rumble and completely outclassed everyone who got in my path! Everybody! Cappa! Crystal! Axel! EVERYBODY! I outclassed them all, Josh, and you know, Popick knows--HELL! The whole damn world knows that right here tonight in Maui, I should be standing before you people as not only the Most Electrifying Man in Sports-Entertainment, but I should also be the #1 CONTENDER TO THAT WORLD TITLE! But NOOOOOOOOO! That's not the case, is it, Matthews?! Because of one man, I won't be going to Anglemania to challenge for the title! Because of one man, I've been robbed of my dream! Because of one man, I've been robbed of my DESTINY! (deep breath) And of course...that one man...is Panther. The crowd ERUPTS at the mention of Panther's name. Both P.R. and SJ roll their eyes as faint chants of "PAN-THER" can be heard from inside the arena. THA PUERTO RICAN Yeah, leave it to you classless idiots in Maui to cheer a 2-bit jabrony like Panther! It doesn't surprise me; you're all jealous of me! You all wish that you could be like me--The Corporate Champ! And the same thing goes for that jabrony Panther! See, I showed the world this past Sunday night that I'm superior to Panther! I proved it when I--ALL BY MYSELF, FAIR AND SQUARE, with absolutely NO HELP from ANYBODY--threw his monkey ass up over the top rope and eliminated him from the Lethal Rumble! (crowd boos) You people can boo all you want, but you know it's true! All of Panther's talk! All of that trash about him needing the World Title! About 2005 being the year of the Panther! (chuckles) It was all for naught thanks to me...the Most Electrifying Man in Sports Entertainment! I threw Panther out and I was well on my way to winning the Rumble! Well on my way to staking my claim as the #1 man in this industry, when this...this...jealous asshole brings his candy ass in the ring AND ATTACKS ME!!! This...this idiot comes into the ring ILLEGALLY! He attacks me and--(crowd pops) AND YOU PEOPLE CHEER! YOU CHEER FOR THIS SON OF A BITCH!!!!! YOU PEOPLE CHEER FOR ME GETTING SCREWED OUTTA MY OPPORTUNITY--DAMN IT, WATTS!!!! WHERE WERE YOU THEN, WATTS?!? HUH?!??! WHERE WERE YOU?!?! YOU AND THAT OLD FOGEY VIGODA!!!! You're all for law and order, right?!?! You can...you can call the cops and take away 8 months of my life over some meaningless little attack, but Panther can cheat me outta MY RUMBLE WIN and not even get a slap on the wrist...DAMN IT WATTS!!!!! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOUR VALUES?!?!?!? P.R. has a wild-eyed look on his face as he glares into the camera, breathing deep, rapid breaths. SJ pats him on the back of the neck in an effort to calm him down, but P.R. shrugs him off and continues. THA PUERTO RICAN Panther...you listen to me you little jabrony--you're gonna get yours! Yes you will! Watts may be too stupid--too senile to punish you--BUT ME..oh you'd better believe I'm gonna make sure you get yours Panther--YOU'LL GET YOURS IN DUE TIME!!!! It's gonna be just a matter of time before I get my hands on you and lay the Smackdown! on your candy ass--GIVE YOU A BEATING THE LIKES OF WHICH YOU'VE NEVER HAD BEFORE! I'll make you sorry, Panther! I promise, I'll make you sorry--I'll make you sorry--I'LL MAKE YOU SORRY YOU PIECE OF CRAP!!! YOU SON OF A BITCH!!! YOU BASTARD!!!!! YOU ASSHOLE!!! YOU SWIIIIINE!!!! You...YOU JACKOFF!!! I promise that before it's all said and done, I'm gonna make you SUFFER...you...you...BIG...F-F-F-FAT........DOODY-HEAD!!!!!!! P.R. suddenly seems to regain his composure, sheepishly looking around the room as if thinking to himself "Did I just say that"? Faint laughter can be heard from within the arena as SJ massages his shoulders to calm him further. J.MATH Well, P.R., one can't grieve forever! The Rumble is now behind us, and tonight, you'll be IN ACTION~! against...well...someone whose name escapes me right now. What are your thoughts going into that one? THA PUERTO RICAN My thoughts? I'll tell ya what my thoughts are! My thoughts are that you and each and every last one of these ignorant people here in Maui need to be down on your hands and knees right now thanking me for gracing you with my presence in this ring tonight! And I'm also thinking that whoever the hell I'm up against is gonna get his monkey ass whipped all over that damn ring by the Corporate Champ! And Panther, I sure do hope you watch my match tonight! Watch that beating I lay on that jabrony here tonight, because as bad as it's gonna be--mark my words--the beating I'm gonna put on you will be so much worse! And that's the truth, Ruth! J.MATH Well, there you have it from Tha Puerto Rican! We look forward to seeing him back in singles competition later tonight! Right now, let's take you to something...that's not this.

(Return from break) Frankenstein by Edgar Winters plays drawing a solid ovation from the Maui faithful. BUFFER The following is a first round matchup in the OAOAST ANDERSON CUP! Now making their way to the ring....weighing 510 pounds, from Oklahoma, they have combined for eighteen different amateur wrestling titles.......THE FRANKENSTEINERS! COACH How many hot dogs do you think you can fit in your ass, Booze? CABOOSE Seven COACH Seven. Exactly seven. Not six. Or Eight. Or Seven and one half. Just seven. That kind of exact number means you must’ve done it before. I’ve done your mom before. Spread my relish all over her buns, I did. Eat it, Caboose. Eat it and like it. Decked out in their Ohio State singlets, the brothers come out from the back bursting with competitive energy! Frankie happily runs around the entrance ramp, barking his fool head off and punching himself in the face! Frank, who’s a bit more calm, pumps his clenched fist in the air and then heads to ring. Stern, serious and legitimately dangerous, he fully intends on having his team emerge victorious. COLE The Anderson cup. Eight teams are fighting it out for the honor to compete at Anglemania, the most revered event in sports and entertainment, for the OAOAST tag team titles! This is our first match and it comes from the Miracle Weirdness Connection Conference. The winner will take on the winner of Black T and The New New Midnight Express match. CABOOSE You mean Chicks Over Dicks and The Midnight Express. No way Black T goes down to the twisted sisters from LaLa land. Gentlemen, I have goosebumps just thinking about how awesome this tournament will be. What you have is eight of the greatest, hungriest teams in the world all trying to get a shot at tag team gold. Alix and Krista may not have acted serious earlier, but Krista’s smart, she’s watching this tourney and she’s studying. Because anyone of these eight squads could be future opponents. I believe all that insulting talk was a carefully planned strategy to undermine the confidence of the competing tag teams. That’ll come in handy when they face one of these two after beating The Midnights in the first round next week. Frank and Frankie slide into the ring at the exact same second. The siblings give each other high fives and encouraging slaps on the ass. With patient expressions on their faces they turn towards the entry way. OH BABY, BABY! OH BABY, BABY The Hell’s Hitmen enter the arena looking deadly serious about this history making event. The fans boo them, JINGUS getting the majority of the heat. With purple lights swirling around the venue, the servants of Satan head to the ring, cracking their knuckles and twisting their necks. As they solemnly walk down the ramp, fans in the front row scatter, fearful for their worthless lives in the face of the hellish beasts. COACH I know for a fact that after getting beat by a man much smaller then him in AJ Flaire, Jingus is out to reestablish himself as a man to be dreaded. BUFFER And the opponents..weighing a combined weight of six hundred eighty pounds...from the Depths of Hell....they are the minions of the dark lord.....JINGUS....SADIST....HELL’S.....HITMEEEEEEEEENNNN! COLE Sadist reminds me of my favorite movie. CABOOSE What’s that? The Thing? Poltergeist? It? Jason X? COLE No! Boys ballin’ Bears 47: Hunks in outer space! Available at fine Adult Video retailers nation wide. COACH Give me America’s Funniest Home Assgasms any day of the week. Anyway, The Frankensteiners made waves in the OAOAST for the first time in....well ever, by beating the New New Midnight Express. Ned Blanchard and Simon Singleton were furious but that match goes down as only the Frankensteiner’s third televised victory. Recently at a house show in Duluth they beat The Tethers brothers in thirty seconds. These guys have skills. They could be major darkhorses here. That’s cool. GIVE ME A SIIIIIIIGN! HIT ME BABY ONE MORE TIME! COLE The Frankensteiners and Hell’s Hitmen collide! JINGUS is a former tag team champion with Mystery Eskimo! The Frankies are decorated vets of the amateur world but that didn’t translate into much success until last week *DING DING DING* No feeling out process here as the match gets underway with a slug fest! Punches are exchanged like trading cards between JINGUS and Frank! Although the Devilman is bigger, Frank holds impressive strength and stands up well against the former tag team champion! The colossal blows are handed out with neither man giving an inch. The fans can sense what type of intense tournament this will be as each blow increases in ferocity. Frank ends the punchfest and gives JINGUS a whip to the orange[/orange] ring ropes! NO! JINGUS reverses it and brings in Frank for a short arm clothesline! FRANK DUCKS underneath the big man's arm and runs to the ropes! The Devil worshiper isn’t too happy about whiffing on his move. Frank comes back and takes the snarling super heavyweight down with a bulldog! COACH Frank hitting the first big move of the match. Caboose, do you like the Frankensteiner’s odds of winning the match? CABOOSE No. I know they upset the Midnight’s last week. But that was an upset. That means its not indicative of what they can and normally do in the ring. Adrenaline surging through every vein in his roid enhanced body, Frank gets to his feet and lets out a primal scream! He runs the ropes and returns to nail a now standing JINGUS with a high knee lift right to his enormous chest! The mastodon wobbles backwards like he was drunk. Frank follows him in and puts him flat on his back with a diving clothesline! The Ohio State graduate stands up, flexes his ripped bicep, gives it a little kiss then drops an elbow onto JINGUS’ throat! The Devilman clutches his neck while his enemy goes through a sit up routine! “FRANK, YOU’RE LATE ON YOUR CHILD SUPPORT!” Hollers a ghastly overweight female in the audience. Ignoring her accusation, the elder Frankensteiner drags JINGUS upright. He wraps his arms around JINGUS for a front waistlock and prepares to hit him with a belly to belly suplex! However the mighty beast lowers his head down and buries his rapier sharp teeth into Frank’s forehead! Tanned skin tears away from his head, ripped to shreds by the gruesome assault. Blood pouring from above his eyelash and down to his eyes, Frank cries aloud in distress. Half his world is turned a shade of dark red as the nasty goo clogs his vision! The fans are disgusted and admonishments are drawn from referee Clem Boxerfeller Jr. With the sour taste of Frank’s blood fresh in his mouth, JINGUS drops his victim with a HUGE BOOT~! to the head. Frank goes down with the force of a sack of bricks! “JESUS LOVES YOU! JESUS LOVES YOU! JESUS LOVES YOU!” chant the fans towards the man who will never see a glimpse of Heaven, JINGUS. JINGUS grabs a hold of Franks boot and drags the bloody amateur wrestling champion to his corner. The tag is made to THE SADIST! The behemoth enters the warzone and he and his supersized partner devour poor Frank with brutally wicked stomps to the gut! They stand him up and nearly take his head off with a double clothesline! The Sadist goes for a cover but Boxerfeller jr is preoccupied with removing JINGUS from the ring. As JINGUS, now outside of the ring, positions himself on the apron, his teammate lays into a standing Frank with a back elbow! The blow is comparable to being hit in the face with an aluminum baseball bat by Sammy Sosa, but somehow Frank stays up! The respectful crowd applauds Frank’s toughness and he draws strength from their kindness. The mammoth opposite him runs the ropes and charges back! It’s like staring down a pack of wild elephants but Frank shows no fear! Instead he exhibits determination to advance in the tournament! He spins behind a running Sadist, slows the wild animal down, lifts the 300 plus pounder up, and nails him with a release German suplex! The impact doesn’t just shake the ring, it doesn’t just shake the arena, it doesn’t just shake the city, IT SHAKES THE ENTIRE STATE! Frankie, who’s wildly applauding his bro, nearly fell off the apron from the earthquake like vibrations! "YOU GOT SERVED! YOU GOT SERVED! YOU GOT SERVED!" chant the fans to Sadist. CABOOSE Sweet mercy! He might as well have suplexed a hippo! COACH That’s the same thing I said about your mom. Only replace the word ‘he’ with ‘I’ and ‘suplex’ with ‘fucked’. Cool. To the surprise and disappointment of Frank and his younger sibiling, Sadist is up and ready to roll! Disgusted groans are given off by some members of the audience as Sadist pinches his massive man boob between his thumb and index finger and proceeds to gently tongue his hockey puck sized nipple! Deep orgasmic moans escape from the hellish cesspool that is his mouth, as his darkest, most vomit worthy fantasies that should’ve never seen the light of day much less prime time televison, have been satisfied by an unwitting mistress in Frank Frankensteiner. COLE You can always tell its time for a commercial break in a Hell’s Hitmen match when Sadist starts sucking his nipples. (GO TO BREAK) (RETURN FROM BREAK) We comeback with Frankie and Sadist in the ring. Frankie takes the much larger fighter over with a snapmare, then hits him with a standing whiplash! Proud of his handiwork the excitable lad stands up to celebrate. Unfortunately, Sadist does to! Frankie spins around and hammers the demonic grappler with a knife edge chop that would’ve sent any other wrestler into early retirement! But all it does to Sadist is cause his twisted mind to be thunderstruck with erotic glee. Frankie runs to the ropes, partially out of fear, buts gets nailed in the jaw with a boot from an apron bound JINGUS! COLE Hey that’s not right! The cheap shot leaves protective brother Frank downright enraged! He rushes into the ring but is immediately cut off by Boxerfeller jr! His attempt to rescue his mentally handicapped brother thwarted, Frank watches with helpless horror as Hell’s Hitmen punish Frankie with a horribly painful double backdrop! Sadist goes for a pin attempt as JINGUS rolls out of the squared circle. 1 2 KICK OUT! No one in the arena, not Frank, not JINGUS, and definitely not Sadist can believe that Frankie kicked out! Obviously Hell’s Hitmen underestimated the spirit of the Frankensteiners! Both men are on their feet. Sadist has his threatening, fear inspiring hands wrapped around Frankie’s neck! He lifts him for the choke slam! As Frankie is forced to leave his feet, the crowd gets to their’s, sensing the end of the match draws close! But Frankie counters with an armbar takedown! The submission hold is never properly cinched in as Sadist powers out! CABOOSE I don’t think Sadist would’ve kicked out in the first place! COACH Kicked out? Of what? Are you going senile? Front facelock by the Devil’s henchmen! No! Frankie, showing off amazing strength, breaks the grip that was tighter then a nun’s pussy! Now it’s Frankie’s turn for a front face lock! Frank is leaning on the ropes, encouraging and cheering on his brother who has so much admirable fighting spirit! Frankie lifts Sadist high into the air! Falling backwards Frankie somehow nails him with an awesome BRAINBUSTER~! Every member of the crowd, from the most gullible mark right down to the most jaded smark is left simply stunned that Frankie could unleash such a powerful attack on the most intimidating wrestler the OAOAST has ever offered! COACH Wow! Frankie just brainbustered Sadist! If every match in this tournament is like this, we are in for a wild ride! That’s cool. Both competitors, stomach’s almost glued to the mat, make the long trek to their corner. Hankering to see some in ring action, Frank hops up and down, clapping his hands together to rally on his nearly out of it brother! The fans join in and lend their strength to a man who desperately needs it! Soon the entire arena is in a clapping frenzy! TAG TO JINGUS!!!!!!!! CROWD:BOOOOOOO! TAG TO FRANK!!!!!!! CROWD:YEAAAAAAA! The two monsters come rumbling into the ring, ready to send each other back to the stone age with a variety of viscous power moves! JINGUS WITH A CLOTHESLINE! NO! DUCKED! Frank off the ropes! He comes back! FRANKENSTEINERLINE~! THE CROWD GOES NUTS as JINGUS is taken off his feet and dumped to the canvas! CROWD:YOU GOT SERVED! YOU GOT SERVED! YOU GOT SERVED! Frank hooks the leg for a pin! CROWD 1 CROWD 2 CROWD 3!!!!! HELL NO! SADIST BREAKS UP THE PIN! Frank stands up and meets Sadist with a rock hard punch to face! Sadist returns the favor! But Frank blocks it with his beefy forearm! BELLY TO BELLY OVERHEAD SUPLEX~! Frank nails Sadist with a belly to belly overhead suplex! “FUCK YEAH!” Frank shouts as he flexes his adonis like muscles! The much scrawnier fans scream along with him, totally psyched about the possibility of being witness to a huge upset! Frank turns around to finish off his opponent only to meet a gory end at the hands of a DEVILBOMB! JINGUS covers! 1 2 FRANKIE CHARGES INTO THE RING! SADIST CUTS HIM OFF WITH A YAKUZA KICK! 3! Clem Boxerfeller jr calls for the bell. The crowd is a bit let down over not seeing an upset victory as Hell’s Hitmen advance. BUFFER Your winners....HELL’S HITMEN! CROWD: JESUS LOVES YOU! JESUS LOVES YOU! JESUS LOVES YOU! JINGUS and Sadist exit the ring, throughly prepared to dominate whoever is unlucky enough to draw them in the second round. COACH No surprise there really. Hell of an effort by Frank and Frankie, though. CABOOSE It sure was. But effort will only get you so far. This match was won on pure f’n power and that’s what JINGUS and Sadist have got. Any other team would’ve been put away by that brainbuster. Not these guys. COLE Can Hell’s Hitmen win this tournament? CABOOSE Yes. Provided they face the right teams. If they ever have to encounter The Saints, who hit hard and hit often or Black T, who are too smart to beat, they won’t win. Wrestling is an intelligent sport, believe it or not, and Tony Brannigan and Dan Black are two of the smartest men alive. COLE What about me?

(We see an all black room with the Tag Team Champions, Chicks Over Dicks seated on stools in front of an OAOAST banner. Alix is wearing a ruffled black skirt and a baby blue Emily the Strange tee shirt that says “I know I’m strange. But what are you?”. Krista is attired in a sparkling gold minidress more suited for a dance club then a wrestling show and a rhinestone belt stretched across he waist. For some very unusual reason Alix is holding a 40 Oz. Colt 45.) KIRSTA Alix Maria Spezia. ALIX Krista Tyler Myrick. OMG SH00T NAMEZ!1111 KRISTA I’d like to observe a moment of silence for a friend. A friend that’s a lot like Alix’s drunken uncle Anthony, who winds up passed out in the kiddy pool every family barbecue, awash in a pool of water, vomit, urine, anal discharge, and the misery that arises from knowing that even though he’s surrounded by loved ones, nothing will ever break the vast feeling of despair that is engulfing his booze and hooker fueled existence. ALIX I love you Uncle Anthony! KRISTA This friend is none other then The Original Elite’s tag team title reign. Gentlemen, some would say that your title reign didn’t last long enough. These are the same people who say the Holocaust never happened, so we’ll ignore them. Dan Black, Tony Brannigan, generic Shane Douglas ripoff, you all make me sick. I feel like vomiting whenever I have to look at your ugly faces. You went to wrestling school and wound up with a degree in colonoscopy. Nice job. Alix, fans, a moment of silence for T.O.E. (For ten seconds the ladies are quiet. Alix takes a sip of her 40 oz, then pours the rest of it on the floor.) ALIX One for my dirty south bitches in The Original Elite. KRISTA Well said. ALIX Krista, when we were given this segment we were told to talk about the Anderson Cup. Eight tag teams, vying for a chance to go onto Anglemana and job to two women who are a hundred pounds smaller then they are in a midcard match that will be forgotten the next night. And we will get to that, but first, I feel we need to discuss something that’s been on my mind. KRISTA And what would that be? ALIX (in a southern accent) Ya know, I think it’s time we stop worrying about “throwing it up for our hood” or “representin’ the west coast gangsters” and started to represent the one man that truly keeps it real. I’m talking about, your lord and savior, Jesus Christ! KRISTA (in a masculine southern accent) For sho. ALIX I know C-O-D is down with G-O-D but there are two guys who don’t roll with God’s set. They think they can get this party started with the D-E-V-I-L. These guys are Hell’s Hitmen, Jingus and Sadist. Jingus, Sadist, I know you want to mutilate yourselves, violate your body that God gave you as a gift and think these impure thoughts that don’t do no one a lick of good, but you two guys gotta know something...That no matter how much you turn away from the teachings of the lord and accept pagan practices and rituals, Jesus is not gonna turn away from you. He’s not gonna stop loving you. KRISTA Testify, sister. Peace n’ love. PNL from JC. ALIX And Jesus, he’s always gonna love you. You can go out and lose your match to Frankensteiner’s in thirty seconds and you’ll come back stage and JC’ll be there waiting with open arms because he died for your sins and now he’s dying for your love. Accept him into your hearts. He took a bath, he doesn’t stink. He ain’t gonna bite. But he is gonna love. Because as that one band who’s name I can’t remember would sing, Jesus was made for loving you and you were made for loving him! Jesus loves you. Badd Boy, baby. 2005. Please believe it. KRISTA Now, their opponents in the first round of the Anderson Cup are the Frankensteiners. Hell’s Hitmen versus The Frankensteiners. Wow. Awesome. I can feel the excitement running through my body. No wait. That’s a bladder infection. My mistake. I hear these mouth breathing brain dead mutants once won some kind of college trophy. That’s impressive, huh. ALIX At San Jose state university there’s a fraternity that gives an award to whoever can fit the most hot dogs in their BUTT. KRISTA Point taken. Did you win? ALIX No. Some 4 foot eleven Korean kid won! He must’ve had a dimensional vortex lodged in there or something. But here’s the really funny part. I had a boyfriend in the fraternity... KRISTA Yes, you having a boyfriend is funny in a pathetic, sort of ironic “man wins lottery is mugged and killed at gunpoint shortly thereafter” kind of way. ALIX No, stupid! The funny part is that the frat were to cheap to buy new hot dogs so they’d just reuse the one’s from the ass contest the next month in the hot dog eating contest. Anyway, predictions for this match? KRISTA I predict I’ll fall asleep at the three minute mark. ALIX And I predict I’ll shave your eye brows at the four minute twenty five second mark. I also predict that I’ll feel guilty at the seven minute eighty five second mark. At the twelve minute mark you’ll wake up and I’ll blame the whole thing on Jackie Gayda. KRISTA Wait a second. This match is gonna go longer then five minutes? I thought the point of the television was to attract viewers not drive them away in droves. If wrestling skill is the ground the house of greatness is built on, the Frankensteiners must’ve built their house on quicksand. ALIX You’re so cruel! I personally think the Frankensteiners will win. I like them because Frankie barks like a dog and I like dogs and I like Frankie because he barks like a dog. And I like dogs. KRISTA I know we’re supposed to wrap up this skit but honestly, I can’t leave the subject of Black T alone. These guys crack me up. I heard they called themselves the greatest tag team of all time. That’s funny, because the only reason you two can claim you’re the greatest OAOAST tag team of all time is because we haven’t beaten you. And the only reason we haven’t beaten you is because you worthless wastes of sperm haven’t had the guts to face Alix and I in a tag team match. Until now. And what a surprise it just so happens that you grew a set after we won the titles. But that doesn’t matter. You may have championship dreams, but its just that, a dream. A fabrication. A fantasy without a home to call its own in the real world. Just like Santa Claus, The Lochness Monster and Big Foot, your chances of beating of us in a rematch don’t exist. Here’s a dose of harsh reality, children: You think you’ll be in the championship spotlight once again? The only lights you’ll be seeing are the ones staring down at you when you’re lying face up on the mat and we’re pinning you one..two...three. ALIX Dan, because you’re all beauty and zero brains I’m going translate what she just said into terms you’ll understand: Goo-goo ga-ga! Goo-Goo ga-ga! KRISTA Enjoy your fall from grace boys. You’ve got a long way to go before you hit bottom. But trust me, you’ll get there. We’ll be sure to send you a postcard from the top. “The view’s great. Wish you were here.....Never mind. No we don’t. Assholes.” (Krista and Alix wave bye-bye as we go to break)

Woke Up This Morning Got Yourself A Gun Mama Always Said You’d Be The Chosen One “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” Through the midst of the booing, Drek Stone saunters out to the top of the ramp with the OAOAST Heavyweight Championship securely fastened around his waist. The fans PASSIONATELY boo the champion, even more so than usual, as he calmly smooths out his suit before walking down to the ring. COLE Boy, Drek Stone really DOES love coming out here at the beginning of HeldDown, doesn’t he? CABOOSE Well, why wouldn’t he? There’s no better way to start off the night than with the Heavyweight Champion! COACH …..what about when Crystal had it? CABOOSE Well, nobody was even watching HeldDown at that point. Once Drek gets close enough to ringside, he swipes a microphone off the timekeeper’s table and climbs the steps into the ring. Once inside, he looks out at this still unbelievably bitter Maui crowd. Wide-eyed at the distaste he is being shown, the Heavyweight Champion takes a second to read some of the signs the crowd has spent their hard-earned time working on. “DRECK SUXS!!!” Well, of course, not every Hawaiian has a dictionary at their disposal. But some of the signs tonight are at least somewhat witty. “Even in Hawaii, Drek can’t find a pair of coconuts!” “Drek Stone, get ready to get axed down by Axel!” And so on. After surveying all these signs, Drek finally decides to talk to this capacity crowd. DREK You people are booing me? You all should be booing yourselves! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” DREK Keep booing. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” DREK There we go. I certainly hope that booing WAS intended for yourselves this time around. I have something important to talk about here. “DREK STONE SUCKS!” “DREK STONE SUCKS!” “DREK STONE SUCKS!” DREK Get out all your chants. I don’t give a damn anymore. I have more important issues to worry about. Something that, at AnglePalooza, finally really rose to my attention. Something that concerns AngleMania and -- to be quite honest -- the future of my title reign. At this, the crowd already begins to roar, knowing exactly who the Heavyweight Champion could be referring to with that statement. “AX-EL!” “AX-EL!” “AX--- DREK WHO?! Axel?! No, no. I was talking about me! And I was talking about all of you! This issue finally came to my attention at AnglePalooza. To put it quite bluntly: You people DO NOT respect me! All I’ve done for this damned federation, and you all still do not give me an ounce of respect. I’m not talking about you pineapple-sucking Hawaiians specifically, but the entire OAOAST fan base as a whole. COACH Could it have something to do with the way he’s acted? Has he ever considered that? CABOOSE Come on, Coach. These people have been known to cheer Crystal, for chrissakes. How dare they boo Drek Stone! DREK I mean, not that I want to be repetitive or anything, but think about my accomplishments in the past few months. If I can be modest, I’ve been an absolutely amazing Heavyweight Champion. I have vanquished every single opponent that has dared to step in my way. It’s like a laundry list of competitors. Crystal, Ragdoll, AJ Flaire. I ran Sly Sommers out of this federation! Sure, we can use his contract dispute as an excuse, but he had absolutely NO desire to step into the ring with me. There’s been no one in the past few months more successful here than me! I dismantled Crystal’s knee. I may have ended AJ Flaire’s career permanently. I have been absolutely FLAWLESS….. ….. DREK …..and still, you people choose to focus your attention on Axel rather than me! “YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!” DREK AXEL, of all people! Don’t any of you realize this guy hasn’t done anything worth caring about since he came to the OAOAST? He held the HI-YAH Heavyweight Belt? Real prestigious title there, oh Dark One. While you were doing that, I was going out, winning title belts, and RENAMING them after my own cultural heritage. Oh, look, Axel ended Ragdoll’s career? Who cares?! I softened Ragdoll up for him only days before their epic retirement match at Climax! Everything Axel has done, I have had a major effect on -- or I have done, but only better! CABOOSE YES! He has a point, guys. Admit it! DREK Which is why it pains me to see…..in recent months, he’s been getting ALL of my attention. I mean, I’m the Heavyweight Champion of the world. WHERE are my Main Events?! Why the hell aren’t I wrestling in the last match on the Pay Per Views?! Back in November, I outlasted Axel in the Elimination Chamber! In fact, I wound up winning the whole damn thing. So what happens at Climax in December?! I’m stuck defending my title against that hag Crystal in a MIDCARD match, while Axel steals my Main Event slot! But I’m not done yet! CABOOSE Hear that, guys?! He’s not done yet! DREK We come to January. I’m making a Heavyweight Title defense against AJ Flaire, a guy that’s making his HUGE return back to the OAOAST. And, to raise the stakes even further, it’s an I-QUIT match! But where do I find my match placed again?! The midcard! Of course! But then I see Axel -- and he’s wrestling in the Main Event slot yet again! YET AGAIN, he’s able to end the show standing triumphantly in the middle of the ring. Who the hell is Axel?! He’s an underachieving worm! Someone that thinks they need to dress scary just to gain some intimidation points. Who am I?! I’M THE HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION OF THE WORLD! WHERE IS MY ATTENTION?! At this point, Drek leans against the ring ropes and starts screaming specifically at the fans sitting at ringside. DREK WHY AM I NOT MAIN EVENTING THESE PAY-PER-VIEWS?! Why am I treated as an afterthought?! Calvin Szechstein wasn’t treated like this! Zack Malibu wasn’t treated like this! Crystal wasn’t treated like this! Why am I the unfortunate one?! Why am I forced to HIDE in the midcard while Axel gets MY attention?! AND MY MAIN EVENT SLOTS?! COACH Uh-oh. Why do I get the feeling Drek’s head is just going to explode here? DREK WHERE IS MY ATTENTION?! THIS DOESN’T MAKE ANY….. Suddenly, in the middle of Drek Stone’s diatribe, OAOAST Chairman Bill Watts appears on the ever-impressive AngleTron! CABOOSE Jeez….whenever we seem to be getting into a good groove with a Drek Stone promo, Watts always has to stick his nose into it. Drek, still incredibly furious, looks up at Watts’s image and starts mouthing off. I won’t print the words here, but it’s safe to say a few bombs slipped past the censors. WATTS Mr. Stone, hold on one second. As much as I may disagree with it, I certainly can understand your outrage. As the Heavyweight Champion of the OAOAST, it isn’t quite right that you’ve been shunted out of the Main Event slot the past two months. In fact, it’s downright reprehensible that something so awful has happened to you. So I’m here to make it all better. I’m here to make my Heavyweight Champion happy. DREK Oh yeah? Well, how do you propose to do that? WATTS Well, hold on a second. Let me get to that. Drek Stone, you will be pleased to know that, as of now, I have already decided your opponent for Zero Hour. “YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!” DREK No, Watts! NO! After the travesty that happened with AJ Flaire dressing up like Phoenix last month, I will NOT allow myself to be given an unfair opponent again! WATTS Mr. Stone, after the disgusting act you pulled against AJ Flaire at AnglePalooza, I couldn’t care less about what you think. So here, let me be frank. I have found your opponent for Zero Hour at the end of this month. And let me tell you, it’s going to be someone that I think you’re somewhat familiar with. It’s someone that, many feel, should have been given this opportunity long ago. Someone who, at AnglePalooza, really proved that he’s ready to be given such a shot. COACH …..who could he be talking about? WATTS Someone who held the Heavyweight Title before. Someone who many feel shouldn’t have lost the title in the first place. “YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!” WATTS Keep in mind, Mr. Stone, Zero Hour is going to be taking place in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Which just so happens to be the hometown of this impressive superstar. “YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!” CABOOSE Oh no. WATTS Now, without any further ado, let me introduce you to your opponent at Zero Hour. Enjoy. CUE: “Black” “YEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” The crowd EXPLODES as the sounds of “Black” start to boom over the loudspeakers and Hoff steps out to a massive reaction. DREK CABOOSE Oh, this is awful. This is terrible. That man doesn’t deserve a title shot! COLE After his impressive performance against Chris Stevens at AnglePalooza, I don’t see how he DIDN’T earn this title shot. CABOOSE Well, this is why no one has ever mistaken you for being smart, Mikey. Once Hoff slides into the ring, he immediately stands up to Drek Stone and the two men stare at each other face-to-face. The buzz in the arena immediately starts to soar as Drek and Hoff have their eyes locked with one another. No strangers to each other, neither man wants to blink. So all they can do is stare. Stare. Until….. CUE: "Bound for the Floor" COLE Now wait a minute!! The fans turn their attention from the pow-wow in the ring to the stage, as Chris Stevens and his associate Jumbo step out from the curtain! Jumbo looks about the same, but Stevens is worse for the wear, sporting a large bandage on his forehead, and one MEAN snarl. J.R. Like an Oklahoma Rottweiler! BOOMER SOONER!! CABOOSE Git! Stevens comes armed with a microphone and ready to use it. STEVENS Now hold on for one damn minute. "BOOOOOO" COLE That's what I said! CABOOSE No one was paying attention. COLE But what does Chris Stevens want now? COACH Maybe he's just pissed! Hoff beat him pretty bad at Anglepalooza! COLE That he did. Stevens stares daggers to the ring, aimed at Hoff, who looks none too not angry about the interruption. STEVENS Hoff, you son of a bitch. I should have known you'd use last night to weasel your way into a title shot-- The fans start jeering, prompting Stevens to raise his voice. STEVENS That you DON'T DESERVE... "BOOOOOO" STEVENS That you NEVER EARNED... "BOOOOOOOOO" STEVENS JUST SHUT UP A MINUTE!! I am SO SICK of you PEOPLE....... Stevens stops, and takes a deep breath, getting a pat on the shoulder from Jumbo. In the ring, Drek nods his approval, turning to the front row and mouthing "I'm sick of you too." STEVENS The fact is that you got lucky, Hoff, and you know it. If this company had officiated the match properly, they'd have gotten an official to the ring to open the cage door, and I would have been the winner last Sunday. But you STOLE ONE AGAIN, big man!! And now you're trying to steal the title from Drek Stone, who, for all his faults, is ten times the champion you'll ever be. The fans let Stevens have it as Drek politely applauds in the ring. Hoff looks back and shoots Drek a look, but the champion simply smirks at him. HOFF Listen, Chris. You took something from me, and now I intend to get it back. It's that easy. And if you've got a problem with that....they why don't you do what you couldn't do Sunday, and beat it out of me. Stevens glowers at Hoff...and starts heading to the ring!! Stevens, with Jumbo in tow, starts shouting obscenities at Hoff on his way. Hoff steps to the ropes to egg Stevens on...but Drek, seeing his opportunity, nails Hoff from behind with a shot to the back of the head! COLE Oh my! CABOOSE Ha ha! Hoff reels, and the fans boo as Drek begins to pummel Hoff from behind. Stevens quickly seizes the moment, sliding into the ring and turning it into a two-on-one assault!! "BOOOOO" "YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK!" CABOOSE This is great! COACH Come on, Hoff, get out of there! Or fight! I forgot my announcing cliches! COLE Come on, can't we get some security out here!! Stevens and Drek drive Hoff to the canvas and begin stomping away. Bill Watts tries to grab Stevens and pull him off, but Jumbo grabs him and throws him into the corner, pinning him there with his big bulky body! Meanwhile, Hoff crawls to a corner, where Drek and Stevens stomp a mudhole in him! J.R. AND WALK IT DRY! SLOBBERKNOCKER!! TAZZ RED HOOK!! CABOOSE Would you two get out of here?! COLE This is sick, this is deplorable! Somebody needs to get out here and stop this!! BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMM~!~!! "YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAH!!" The fans go APESHIT as the Lethal Rumnble winner sprints down to the ring, and slides in, Hoff being subjected to a three on one attack. Chris Stevens is the first to go to Axel, but he is soon put in his place, getting knocked down with a HUGE clothesline! COLE Axel is here! Jumbo is the next to try and take on The Dark One, but Axel is right there waiting, connecting with thrfee right hands, and then a HUGE uppercut, the same one that won him the Lethal Rumble! Drek Stone then tries to take Axel out, but he eats a clothesline as well! COACH Axel is on fire! CABOOSE Someone get him out of here! Axel yells to the crowd, as if he's a man possessed! He waits for Stevens to get up from the clothesline, like an animal watches its prey! COLE I see some pain in Chris Stevens' future! Stevens finally gets up, and turns around... RIGHT INTO AN AXEL SPINEBUSTAH~! COLE BETTER THAN HOFF'S! Axel gets up from the spinebuster, looking at the damage he has caused, when he falls forward courtesy of a shot to the back by Jumbo! Jumbo grabs Axel by the hair and goes for a BIG CLOTHESLINE... but Axel ducks under! Axel comes off of the ropes and charges at the big man... ...RUNNING ENZIGURI! COACH Wow! Axel has taken out Chris Stevens and Jumbo! COLE But look who's next! Oh yes, Axel has his sights set on the third party, his tenetative opponent for AngleMania, the OAOAST Champion, Drek Stone! CABOOSE No! Not Drek! Drek gets to this feet, shaken from the clothesline, and Axel picks him up from behind, for an Axel Slam! The crowd pops HUGE for this, but the pops soon turn to boos, as Chris Stevens pulls the Champion out of the ring by the foot, and out of harms way! COLE Awww no fair! Axel tries in vain to get to the champion, but Stevens and Jumbo have pulled him to safety. Axel stares down the three men, and Chris Stevens begins talking trash to the Dark One, trash that Axel is happy to return. COACH Axel took out Chris Stevens, Jumbo, and almost the OAOAST Champion in a matter of moments! Axel is on fire tonight! Axel turns around, presumedly to check on the man that he just saved, only to find that Hoff is up, and the two are face to face! COLE Uh-oh... CABOOSE Ha-ha! Hoff and Axel are going to get it on! The two men say a few words to each other, and for a moment it seems like they are both pissed off... but the tension fades somewhat, and they both take a step back. Out of the corner of his eye, Hoff notices the OAOAST Championship belt in the ring, and his gaze is soon joined by Axel's! COLE Both of these men have a golden opportunity in the next few months to be the OAOAST Champion. Hoff for the second time at Zero Hour, and Axel for the first time at AngleMania Four at Trump Plaza! COACH Both of these guys know that sometime down the track, they will possibly be facing each other! We don't know when, but it will happen! COLE Oh my guys... I've just been given word! Bill Watts has signed a HUGE Six Man Tag team Main Event for next week's edition of HeldDown! In one corner it will be Chris Stevens and Jumbo, joined by our OAOAST Champion Drek Stone! In the otehr corner, it will be The Dark One, Axel; his girlfriend, Crystal; and finally... Hoff! COACH Whoa! COLE What an amazing Main Event for next week! COACH And we're not done yet! COLE Stay tuned, HeldDown will be right back!

I had something in mind to put there, but I suppose.

If I'm missing anything, you have fourteen minutes.

I wish I would have known the word limit didn't mean shit as I could have used an extra 700 words(mine was 14,826) to round out a few things towards the last few eliminations. Next time don't post a word limit if we can blow past it. I'd also like to actually get some feedback from MVS and not a "Placeholder for feedback" that never gets filled in with anything like the Toxxic/Maddix Slay Ride comments. If I did not feel that Maddix's match met the strict criteria, then I would not have picked his match to win. Period. I am sure that any of the other markers would agree with me on this point. Since you asked, I'll PM you comments on your match when I get time. Given the amount of time I've had recently, however, you may have better luck posting your match in the losing matches thread.

Willa Ford is on this show? I suddenly want to watch.

The MCI centre in Washington is still reeling from the epic contest they just witnessed as the crowning of a new Clusterfuck Champion has just taken place. As various limbs and carcasses are swept away from ringside, Funyon stands in the centre of the ring, ready to make another triumphant announcement. He has to wait, though, as the fans continue to cheer as loud as they can, even after the excitement of the Clusterfuck. They hold their signs aloft, displaying overwhelming support for the Franchise; the man Funyon has the distinct honor of announcing… “Ladies and Gentleman…” He begins. “The following match… is a single match… for the WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP!” The announcement has the fans on their feet, knowing yet another epic contest is about to take place, and their hero introduced. “Don’t turn off your television yet,” Pete reminds the viewers at home, “because we STILL have one more match to complete, which will no doubt be a memorable one.” “Of course it will be!” Pete’s partner the Suicide King suddenly roars. “Two men. One Ttile. The most sought after prize in our sport on the line and an epic feud to conclude! I cannot wait!” “Introducing first…” The house lights shut off as the wispy sounds of a digital xylophone echo throughout the arena. You can feel the pulsation of the light dings, as a hard beat done by violins, suddenly strikes up slightly overshadowing the original background rhythm. “So do you wanna’ be a Franchise… And live large… A big house… five cars…” “From Philadelphia, Pennsylvania…” The SmarkTron flares up with a blue and white photonegative image of Mak Francis, which is followed by ‘The Franchise’ in large green lettering, flashing on the screen in time with the beat. “Weighing in at two hundred and forty pounds…” “The rent charge… Comin’ up in the world, don’t trust nobody… Gotta’ look over your shoulder constantly!” “He is a former United States and ICTV Champion… please welcome, the one and only Franchise…MMMMAAAAAKKKKK FFFFFRRRRRAAAAAANNNNNNCIIIIIIISSSSSSS!” As the opening lyrics from Rock Superstar by Cypress Hill, slightly altered of course, blare over the PA system, it takes a little while but eventually the self proclaimed franchise makes his way through the curtain. The lights come back up and Francis comes out onto the stage, tilting his shades down on the bridge of his nose, before looking left and then right… “I remember the days, when I was a young kid grownin’ up… Lookin’ in the mirror dreamin’ about blowin’ up!” That cues multiple short bursts of green pyrotechnics erupting from either side of him. He readjusts his shades with a smirk, before slowly strolling down to ringside and after walking up the ring steps, he cockily wipes his feet on the apron, giving a salute to the crowd who cheer for the Franchise, before entering through the middle ropes. The pipe up and chant the Franchise’s name as he ascends to the top turnbuckles and raises his fist to all his fans! “And here he is, the one and only Franchise, in only his second match since returning from the injured list,” Pete reminds us all. “Indeed, King, this feud has been bloody and filled with mind games. But tonight, the mind games will be put to a rest, and only one man will emerge victorious over the other, and become the World Champion!” The television picture begins to flutter, becoming fuzzy… “This is the man I’ve been waiting for, Pete,” King replies. “The two time world champion and Hall of Famer, here to put another contender out of his misery!” “Watch it, King; you’re beginning to sound like Riley.” As a slap is heard, Andrew Blackwell’s voice is heard in eerie fashion… ... "There is nothing wrong with your television set.“ “I not attempt to adjust the picture." “I will control the horizontal.” “I will control the vertical.” “I am controlling transmission...." ... The picture returns too normal shortly after. Before Andrew Blackwell makes his entrance, the lights recede, not into complete darkness, but very near to, as 'Tainted' by Lycia begins to play, very softly, at the same time. Spotlights situated to the side of the ramp way, all along the side turn on Blackwell and follow him as he walks slowly before reaching the ringside area. “And… his opponent…” Funyon continues in his booming voice. “From Adelaide, Australia. Weighing in at two hundred and sixteen pounds… he is a Grand Slam Champion and the current, reigning, World Heavyweight Champion…” “…Please welcome…” The boos almost drown Funyon out! But the announcer continues none the less, giving the classy gentleman who now steps into the ring with Mak the entrance he deserves… “He is… SSSSAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCCCCCCRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!” The two men sit in either corner as Sacred straps his title and hands it to official Matthew Kivell as Pete continues, “At Genesis IV, Sacred injured Mak Francis, locking in the Upright Figure Four to capture the ICTV title. Tonight, a much bigger prize is on the line, and their very pride is at stake.” The world title is held aloft for all to see, and both Andrew and Mackenzie glance up at the glittering gold, and then stare at one another while the crowd continues to go crazy with anticipation. “If the thought of tearing each other apart wasn’t motivation enough,” begins Longdogger, “then the biggest prize in our fair company sure as hell is! These two would lock up just for the hell of it, but there’s so much on the line tonight which is sure to add fuel to the fire.” “Oh, without a doubt,” King answers, a grin breaking out across his face, “but you know Francis is looking at the title, and looking at Sacred, and wondering if he shot for too much, too soon.” “It’s true that he’s only had the solitary match since returning, but I think it’s safe to say that it is the furthest thing from his mind right now as he looks across at the man who halted his career just as he was climbing to the top. Well tonight, he has the chance to kill two birds with one stone and come out on top, where he rightfully belongs!” “I’ll tell you where he belongs, the emergency ward of St. Alfred’s, if his last two Pay Pew View matches are anything to go by.” As the Suicide King smiles gleefully and Pete simply groans, Kivell takes the only chance he’ll get to hug the World Title, before handing it to an attendant at ringside. He lays it out on the announce desk for all to see, the crowd still cheering in the background, but as Mak and Sacred look at each other, memories of the past filling their troubled minds, they remember what they’re really fighting for. Mak wants the year he’ll never get back. He wants his pride back. Sacred simply wants to deny him. *DING! DING! DING!* The sound of the bell snaps both men back to reality as they stand toe to toe, the crowd screaming and hollering all around them, waiting on the edge of their seats for the first move to be made. “Neither man wants to give an inch to the other,” notes Pete. “The first man to make a mistake will rue that as they’re pinned to the mat one, two, and three. Mak won’t have to worry about Rev0 meddling in this match, however, and that will surely give him a much needed confidence boost.” “Now hold on just a second there buddy,” King suddenly interjects, “First off, we don’t even know what Sacred is going to do. Remember, he just up and vanished after merging victorious on Lockdown. For all we know, he might still stay loyal, and even if he isn’t, he didn’t need them to advance in the Coldfront Classic, or to win the title. When, and it’s only a matter of when Pete my boy, Sacred wins tonight, then we’ll know what the answer is. I hope for his sake, though, he does stay with the Revolution, because everyone is after you when you’re the World Champion; I’ve had more experience in that than anybody!” “… But you’ve only won the title one solitary time.” “That’s still one time more than you.” While the announcers seem to prattle and bicker endlessly, the action in the ring begins, both men doing the time honoured circle of death, waiting for one another to make a move, trying to find a weakness to exploit. Sacred finally breaks the deadlock in surprising fashion, calling Mak forward to enter a good old test of strength, holding his outstretched hand high. Mak is incredibly wary, but the fans cheers ring throughout the arena as they chant his name- “MAK! MAK! MAK! MAK! MAK!” -and plead with him to beat down the convict. Mak has never been one to argue with his adoring public as he steps forward, his hand reaching out to link with Sacred’s. Mak flinches as both hands lock together; he expects Sacred to try a cheap shot, but Sacred is true to his word and holds out his opposite hand. Mak seemingly lets his guard down as the two finally lock up, but Sacred, as usual, has other ideas as he aims a kick towards Mak’s bum leg! The Franchise refuses to let the Australian have his way and sidesteps the attack much to Sacred’s horror, and flips the Champion over with an arm drag! “FRAN- CHISE! FRAN – CHISE!” “Sacred always has something up his sleeve,” Pete says, “but Mak knows this more than anyone! After all the mind games Sacred put him through leading up to Genesis, it’s clear Sacred tried to psyche him out once again by targeting the leg he injured, but Mak was one step ahead, a tough feat to achieve against the master manipulator!” “Oh, so he’s only a master manipulator when someone foils his plan, huh?” King grumbles in reply. “Mak got lucky once. ONCE! The night is still young and there’s still a lot of time for the young hothead to screw up, just like his last return. Oh Zing!” Blackwell bounces back to his feet, caught off-guard by Mak’s quick responses. And quick responses they are, as Mak is almost immediately on top of Sacred, swinging away forcefully with multiple right-hands! *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* And the Sacred One is reeling, falling backwards as each strike finds its’ mark on the side of his head. Mak follows through on his attack, not-so-nicely guiding the slightly dazed World champion into the nearest corner, with a persuasive knife-edge chop! Continuing the trend, the Franchise rears back and lays waste to Sacred’s chest with another round of knife-edge chops! *Smack!*“WHOOOOOOOOOOO!” *Smack!* ”WHOOOOOOOOOOO!” *Smack!*”WHOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Apparently, going after Francis’ knee was not something that he appreciated.” Pete adds, while Francis continues his assault. “A fact that Mak pointed out earlier tonight in his interview with Ben Hardy. I was right to say he was one step ahead of Sacred, because I don’t think anyone, including the World champ expected this type of attack.” “This is the same guy that over pursued Dace Night in his first match back and lost his wind early. And that one match was a time limit draw because he couldn’t keep up and you expect him to keep pace with Sacred. Mak is a mat wrestler, and getting away from that style can only lead to trouble.” Sacred attempts to wallow in the corner, his chest stinging, while Mak leads him to the middle of the ropes, holding his hand like he’s a child in a department store. The Franchise pushes him into the ropes and sends him away with an Irish whip. Mind still focused on the pain in his chest Blackwell can do nothing, but return to the Franchise, who raises his left knee into the air, blasting Sacred with a straight shot under the chin! The crowd gasps at the sound of solid contact, as Sacred drops like a stone to the mat. Mak falls on top of Sacred in a mount and Kivell drops to the mat… ONE! T—No! Not even a one, because Mak’s attack is far from finished, as he straddles Sacred and grabbing a tuft of hair pounds away with right-hands to the World champions face! *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* Sacred tries to squirm away from Mak’s grasp, but Francis doesn’t want another stare down; he has Sacred down on the mat, exactly where he wants him. Grasping a hold of Sacred’s arm, Mak keeps good distance from Sacred as he applies a simple key lock, preventing Sacred from connecting with one of his potent forearms in reply. “With that outburst aside, Mak Francis has gone back to what he knows—keeping his opponent under control by using his technical prowess.” “It’s a keylock, Pete,” King responds, “but damnit, this is Mak Francis and he must be a technical wizard! Sacred can definitely hold his own in any technical affair and the finish of their Genesis IV match is proof of that.” Sacred does however manage to climb to his feet, cringing as Mak applies even more pressure to his arm, but the Australian manages to roll forward and spin to his feet, countering the hold into a hammerlock, pinning Mak’s arm at his back. Francis is not subdued long as he fires off a stinging back elbow, stunning the Australian for a moment, long enough for Mak to institute a standing switch, heading behind his Australian foe. Sacred suddenly charges forward for the safety of the ropes, clinging onto them and causing Mak to lose his grip and roll away harmlessly. The Australian is clearly shaken as he tries to silence his opponent with some stiff forearm blows, but Mak has the adrenaline running already as he ducks underneath the third shot, taking Sacred’s arm in the process and answering with a hammerlock of his own. Before Sacred can even attempt a reversal, Mak reaches underneath his lighter opponent and lifts him into the air for a hammerlock Suplex! …But Sacred is determined to escape, wanting Mak to earn every single move he attempts as he flays about madly, causing Francis to stumble for just a second, which is all the Australian needs to flip out of the move and safely back on two feet. Sacred is lightning quick as he heads down low, targeting the leg with a quick chop block and felling Mak. Sacred digs in quickly as he latches onto Mak’s leg with an elementary Leg Lock, allowing him to get his breath back. Francis has to wince as Sacred scissors his leg, preventing him from moving and jarring his knee at a dangerous angle. Realizing the severity of the situation already, Mak works through the pain so he can turn his body over just enough… *WHAM!* … To connect with a STIFF boot to the Australian’s features! The crowd begins to cheer but Sacred holds on like a determined Dingo holding a baby in its mouth; he can’t argue with a second STIFF kick however, which sends him packing! “Already we see Sacred focus in on Mak’s leg, which has now had time to heal,” Pete points out, “but I’m not sure that was his intention, as Francis has really had him on the back foot! Sacred has had a good couple of months, and his mat work has improved considerably, but I doubt he’s faced a proficient mat wrestler like Mak in a long time, and he may have underestimated his opponent!” “Wouldn’t you?” King asks. “Like we’ve already pointed out, he’s only had one match since his triumphant return, and now suddenly he’s got the World Champion on the ropes. Sacred wouldn’t underestimate a man like Mak Francis. More likely, Mak Francis has focused all his energies into beating him, and thought of every eventuality.” “Well, he’s had a long time to prepare…” Pete answers, trailing off with just a hint of foreboding as Sacred blocks a right hand and drives a knee into Mak’s stomach, doubling him over. Sacred quickly latches onto Mak with a front face lock, dropping to one knee in an attempt to bring Mak back down and wear him out. But Mak manages to keep his feet, his great upper body strength allowing him to shrug Sacred off. Sacred charges forward to get the one up on Mak, but in his haste, allows himself to be taken down with a simple Drop Toe Hold as Francis mounts on top of him, sitting directly on his shoulder and pulling back with a Fujiwara armbar! “Francis once again gets the better of his opponent, and continues to weaken that arm,” Pete observes closely. “Just as Sacred made Magnifico’s arm a non-issue, Francis is doing the same here.” “What a nerd,” King says rather matter-of-factly. “I bet he’s been studying old tapes just to find Sacred’s weaknesses and playing Online Rope Playing Games. Quick, Mak, hit him with your Two-handed Mace for 67 damage!” “Where did THAT come from?” “Too much World or Warcraft, and that’s a shoot brutha.” Sacred tries his best to crawl away, but with only one arm to maneuver it’s no avail. Mak smiles as the fans cheer, watching Blackwell trapped on the mat in pain as he’s done to so many others. Mak continues to torque his arm, creating even more pressure every second Sacred in the hold. The Australian desperately escapes, lunging towards the ropes with his free hand and grabbing hold for dear life as Kivell shouts- “ONE!” “TWO!” “THREE!” “FOUR!” Mak finally let’s go, but only after a little prodding from Kivell himself, and Sacred crawls away, his arm aching already, but he tries to put the slight pain out of his mind as he climbs to his feet. Mak meets him before he can even take a breather, slamming his fist into Sacred’s jaw! *BAM!* *BAM!* The fans cry out as each blow is struck and Sacred is rocked backward towards the ropes. *BAM!* *BAM!* Mak finally lets up, but keeps Sacred on a short leash as he whips him across the ring. Sacred bounces off the ropes, ducking underneath a Francis leapfrog and hitting the opposite ropes. Mak prepares himself for his opponents return, but the Australian hits the ropes and holds onto them for dear life, keeping himself firmly in place. Francis seizes this opportunity as he suddenly charges, but Sacred expertly leans against the ropes, giving himself enough leverage to take Mak around the neck in a headscissors, and in one fell swoop, let’s go of the ropes and sends Mak through the second rope and onto the concrete floor! “A cunning, if not desperate move, from the World Champion!” Pete announces as Mak sprawls out on the floor in front of the two announcers. “Desperate? Not in the slightest. If there’s one thing Sacred has had going for him since returning, it’s using his vast wealth of experience to its fullest, and since Mak is still finding his way around the squared circle, Sacred will take full advantage of that.” The boos finally ring out amongst the crowd as Mak wearily gets to his feet after landing hard. Sacred, on the other hand, finally has something to laugh about as he crawls away, but the strain he placed on his arm with that move is obvious as he tries to get to his feet. The pain in his arm is soon forgotten however as he sees Mak climb to his feet with help from the ring apron, finding a golden opportunity waiting. “ONE!” As Kivell starts his count, the Australian suddenly sprints across the ring, aiming for Mak’s chest with a baseball slide, but Francis easily sidesteps! Sacred lands on his feet, but the feeling of relief is short-lived as he turns around… *WHAM!* … Right into a Mak Francis Clothesline! “TWO!” “Mak has his number on the mat, and now he’ll have his number on the outside!” Pete confidently shouts. “Francis wants one thing from this match, first and foremost: that’s to put Sacred through hell, and he’s in the perfect place to do it.” “C’mon Pete, you have to remember, Sacred WON a STREET Fight for the WORLD title. He can MORE than handle himself in this situation.” “Stop emphasizing every other word.” “Well someone has to break the monotony of your commentary.” Sacred gets to his feet in front of the two bickering announcers, but Mak doesn’t let him get off that easily as he takes him by the arm and whips him into the ring apron back first. The impact sends Sacred stumbling forward, right into Mak’s waiting arms as he lowers his head and lifts him into the air… “THREE!” … *THUD!* … Splattering his corpse on the concrete floor with a Back Body Drop! The fans once again have a reason to cheer as Mak doesn’t take his foot off the peddle, grabbing Sacred before he can crawl away and lifting him to his feet. “FOUR!” Mak looks around at the entire crowd as he grabs Sacred by the arm, hearing their response as he aims Sacred for the ring post. The crowd obviously cheers in approval as Mak yanks Sacred by the arm, hurtling him towards the post… *CLANG!* …but Sacred reverses the whip, and the sickening sound of head hitting steel is heard as Mak careens into the post as full speed! The crowd is up in arms as Mak crumples to the floor, his head pounding. “FIVE!” Sacred thanks the lord as he slides back into the ring, hoping to avoid an all out blood bath, but his last desperate reversal put great strain on his arm, and from the outside looking in, Mak can see his handiwork through blurred vision. “SIX!” “A stellar wrestling contest between two great athletes seems to be heading for a grim and bloody battle,” Pete announces, “but I don’t think we expected anything less from these two!” “I don’t think it’s about bleeding for their art, or the title, it’s making the other guy bleed for it,” King replies. “That seems to be Mak’s plan, anyway. Sacred just wants to win, which he’s done quite often lately I might add.” Mak removes his body from ground near the ring post and uses the apron to crawl to his feet. The Franchise slides back into the ring, his head still throbbing from contact with the steel, but he’s going on instinct, knowing he has to get back into the ring. Sacred for his part, is back to his feet, gently cradling his arm, while trying not to show weakness. Both men know that the other is hurting, but refuse to admit that fact about themselves. Sacred stays on the offensive, ignoring the pain by administering stomps to the downed Franchise in the corner, finally lifting him to his feet and whipping him into the opposite buckle. Mak lands back first into the buckle and stumbles out, clearly still light-headed. The Sacred One notes this as he barrels forward for his time-tested spear – but Francis, even in his loopy condition, is prepared for the attack and leapfrogs over the Aussie in a surprising counter! Sacred eyes go wide as he cannot halt his momentum, sending him spiraling into the corner post, shoulder first! “What a display of athleticism from Mak!” Pete says, as Sacred sits stuck between the third and second buckle. “So far, Sacred’s attacks on his knee have had little effect.” Francis slides in behind Sacred and gripping him round the middle, falls backward revolving back in a rolling prawn pin! Kivell slides into position… “A rolling prawn—a quick cover and the first real cover of this match!” ONE! TWO! TH—No! Sacred pushes the excess weight of Francis off of him, sending Mak into the ropes. “And Sacred kicks-out with ease. Give it time, Pete.” King says, while Sacred tends to his shoulder. “Sacred is in full control of this match. His arm may be weakened, but this man is a ring general and Mak will need something more than a roll-up to get the duke.” Kivell comes over to check on Sacred, while Francis uses the ropes to pull himself back up. He won’t admit it, but his head is still woozy from the run-in with the post. Kivell backs away, as Mak walks over to his opponent, but the ring veteran in Sacred shows through, as he takes Francis down with a trip, sending him neck first across the bottom cable! Mak bounces off the rope and falls to his back, gagging on reaction, while clutching his throat. “See, one misstep is all it takes. There’s no restart button in this game. You just can’t teach the veteran wiles of a Sacred.” adds King, as Sacred rotates his shoulder to work the kinks out. “And now it’s time to go to school! The World champ has already latched onto Mak’s leg and soon he’ll suffer the same fate as Landon Maddix… all over again!” King’s words ring true, as Sacred pulls Mak by the leg towards the corner and ducks outside, before slamming his leg into the pole! Francis lets out a startled yelp, as if just awoken from a dream, as the Aussie reaches around to ensnare the other leg in an attempts to crotch Mak on the steel ring post – but Francis, in a last ditch effort to save his jewels, yanks the Sacred One back into the pole face first! Mak shakes out his leg as he slides under the ropes to get at the Sacred One, who’s on his back on the outside. “And back outside they go! Amazing how something billed as a technical clinch could morph into this.” Sacred stares out into the crowd as he grabs Mak by the arm, and hearing their response as he aims Francis for the ring post, he cannot help but grin. The crowd jeers the convict as Sacred yanks Mak by the arm, hurtling him towards the steel steps knee first… *CLANG!* …but Mak reverses the whip, and the sickening sound of shoulder meeting step reverberates throughout the arena! The crowd rises up in cheers as Mak stands tall, unlike his last effort during the outside, where the Aussie came out victorious. “AHA! The tables have turned this time, King.” Pete notes. “This time SACRED is the one who’s feeling the ill-effects of the STEEL!” “Must you emphasize everything like an idiot?” “It worked for you, didn’t it?” The Franchise looks out at the fans and nods, while Sacred continues to protect his injured wing. Mak walks over and flings Sacred back into the ring, rolling in after him, since he knows he can’t win on the outside. The Sacred One sits on a knee, blinking and cradling his arm, as Mak slides back inside the ring after his victory on the outside. This time he’s in control. This time he controls the pace and right now he wants to kick Sacred right in the mush! Blackwell sees Francis running at him directly ahead and slips to the side from his knees, dodging the Yakuza kick and catches the leg on his uninjured shoulder… Mak looks perplexed and so does the crowd as Sacred stands up and positions Mak’s knee directly over his shoulder blade, before sitting out in an attempt to hyperextend the Franchise’s knee!! OOOOOOHHHHHHHH! Francis falls to the mat in clear pain, rolling on the canvas, while Sacred sits up and smiles, his handiwork is finally coming to fruition. Mak refuses to lie down as he grits his teeth and digs in, pulling himself up to his feet, albeit it very gingerly. Sacred simply takes a handful of his foe’s hair, looking at him, nailing a stiff forearm blow just too add insult to injury. The Australian holds his arm up high, signaling to the crowd for the end as they all rise up and jeer as he lifts the helpless Francis from the mat, holding him completely vertical, but the strain on his arm is clearly evident, and Mak turns out to be not so helpless as he shifts his weight, pulling himself down to the mat! Mak quickly latches onto Sacred with a front face lock and in a desperate attempt to buy some time and weaken the Australian, tries to pull him down with a Guillotine choke! Just as he does though, Sacred plants his front foot forward, keeping himself firmly in place, and allowing him to shift the momentum with ease, answering with a Northern Lights Suplex! Kivell slides over as Sacred hooks the far leg for “An old favorite of the Australian might just do the trick!” King cries ONE! TWO! … But the count is suddenly and joyfully broken as the crowd cheers Mak as he bridges back up, clearly putting himself under great strain, but in the perfect position to spin the Australian around, using his already locked arms to pull him down to the mat with a Backslide! “But Mak turns it around just as quickly!” Pete shouts in reply. ONE! TWO! OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! But the crowd’s spirits are dampened quickly as Sacred kicks out, crawling away from Mak to avoid any more flash pins, and losing his gold just as quickly. “These two are getting more desperate by the minute. They’ve done so much damage to each other, and I don’t see that ending after the final bell…” Mak also attempts to escape, but Sacred realizes he needs to keep harassing and does so, aiming a Basement Dropkick to Mak’s knee as he tries to hobble away. Francis stumbles into the corner, grimacing and clutching at his leg, and the knee brace which protects it, but Sacred is an Australian on a mission as he stomps on the knee relentlessly, finally stopping to whip Mak across the ring into the opposite corner. Mak somehow reverses the whip, but planting his bad leg forward he has to stop and cry out, giving Sacred an opportunity to reverse the whip once again, pulling Mak into a Short Arm Clothesline! *WWHHAAAA-NO!* “RRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Mak ducks, his leg may be weak, but his instincts are still sharp, and his wrestling mind works over time as he wraps his arms around Sacred’s neck with a Rear Naked Choke! “Mak’s faltering Pete, that’s plain to see,” King says, nudging his partner, “he’s falling back on rest holds just to buy himself some time, but Mak, your time is up!” As if he hears King’s grim prediction, Mak decides to try something daring. Sacred, however, reaches back, trying to flip Mak over his own back and down to the mat, but Francis keeps his centre of gravity towards the mat, suddenly pulling the Australian down to the mat, taking his injured arm with him, and entangling him wit ha Body Scissors! “That’s no rest hold, King,” Pete answers with a wry grin. “Mak has Sacred in a troubling position, and I just don’t see how he can get out this time!” “Not with Mak clutching onto that arm like a child with a new toy,” King grimly reports, watching the action unfold as the blood rushes to Sacred’s head. “He’ll exploit that any way he can in this position!” The cheers from the crowd drown out any of Sacred’s cries as he flays about wildly on the mat, Mak lying beneath him, depriving him of air and pinning his arm behind his back, creating a dangerous angle to his elbow, almost pulling it out of it’s socket! Kivell leaps into action as he always does, checking on the Australian and asking him the question, but Sacred replies, in his very distinct Australian accent: “No fucking way.” Mak hears this, but it only spurs him on further, silencing his deviance and replacing it with a whimper as a burst of pain suddenly shoots through his arm. Sacred’s outstretched hand almost looks ready to tap the mat… … But instead, the cunning Australian grabs Mak’s leg out from underneath him, holding it tightly between both arms and wrenching it at ninety degrees with heel hook! Mak’s expression suddenly changes from one of almost delight to one of horror as both men put an incredible amount of strain on one another, both refusing to let go! Sacred’s desperate strategy suddenly produces results as Mak lets his guard down, releasing his hold just long enough for Sacred to shift his body on the mat, turning over onto his stomach and pulling Mak’s leg away, lifting it into the air and… *WHAM!* Throwing it back down, knee first, against the pine! A loud yelp is heard as Mak turns over on his stomach, clutching at his knee brace and slamming his fist on the mat, unable to avoid the crippling pain. But Sacred doesn’t let him go yet, hooking his leg in tow with Mak’s, crossing them over and locking them into place as he suddenly throws himself forward and pulls back on Mak’s neck with a facelock! “CROSS STF!” Pete shouts as the fans go insane with anger as Mak throws his arms out, trying to pull himself forward, the ropes oh so close, but Sacred has him in a bind, literally! “Sacred has always used this move to work the leg at every opportunity, and him locking it on means it’s only a matter of time now!” But King’s optimism is soon squashed as Mak lurches forward inch by inch, the bottom rope nearing his grasp as Sacred does his damnedest to keep him back, but Mak’s upper body strength once again plays a part as he manages to drag himself just that little bit further. Sacred shifts his focus from the facelock to Mak’s arms, trying to pin them back in a chickenwing. Mak tries to slip away, but the Australian manages to grab one arm, reaching forward desperately for the other… RRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! … But Mak’s manages to reach the bottom rope in time! “The match continues!” Pete joyfully shouts. “Mak’s not going to let this one get away, not after the long, arduous road to recovery he’s had, not after the hard ships he’s endured, some at the hands on the man he’s facing in that very ring!” “No need to be so damn melodramatic,” King grunts in reply. “He may have scraped, but I assure you, the damage has been done, which started at Genesis last year.” Sacred tries to remain cool, but his opponent’s infuriating defiance has him on edge. Mak tries to head under the bottom rope, but Sacred pulls him back into the ring, lifting him to his feet. The Australian tries to whip his opponent into the opposite ropes, but Mak falters the first few steps, hobbling on one leg. Andrew Blackwell is, of course, unsympathetic to Francis’ plight and pulls him right back to his feet, whipping him as hard as he can into the corner. *BAM!* The Franchise hits sternum first, the turnbuckles propelling him stumbling backward towards the Australian. Sacred lifts Mackenzie high into the air, ready to execute an Electric Chair Drop! But the Franchise rolls through into a Victory roll! ONE! TWO! THHHHRRRRRRREEEE…! NO! Sacred manages to continue rolling through, thanking his lucky stars, but not for long as he and Mak once again meet each other in the centre of the ring. Mak tries to pound away with right hands, but Sacred blocks them, answering with his patented forearms that stun Mak. Francis leaves himself open long enough for Sacred to take his injured leg, twisting him around and bringing him down to the canvas with a Dragon Screw! “Sacred has it in the bag now, with Mak helpless on the mat!” King cries happily. “Just as he did at Genesis, Sacred will put Mak out again with the Deprogrammer!” “There’s no way, not even in his state, that Mak will let this happen.” Pete’s stern words resonate with truth as Mak squirms and writhes, resisting Sacred’s attack by… *CRACK!* … Booting him square in the face, spinning the Australian around and forcing him to release his hold! Sacred rubs his jaw, but before he knows it, he’s dragged down to the mat in a School Boy pin! Kivell slides over, eager to as the crowd chants along “ONE!” “TWO!” “THREEEEEEEEEE!” … “HE KICKS OUT!” Both announcers cry as a massive sigh of disappointment fills the arena, Mak literally cursing as Sacred crawls away, breathing heavily, and realizing just how close that was. Sacred climbs to his feet, but Mak forces himself up as well by sheer force of will. Sacred knows desperate times call for even more desperate measures as he flies across the ring, using his good arm to aim a flying Forearm right at Mak’s forehead! “Mak dodges, and answers with a knee to the midsection!” Pete shouts as Sacred is doubled over, clutching his stomach, but Mak immediately takes him and whips him into the ropes. Trying to plant his front foot forward proves too much as he stumbles and grimaces in pain as Sacred hits the ropes, building up enough steam as he charges head first, throwing all caution into the… *BBBAAAAAMMMMMM!* …Wind, spearing Mak Francis completely in two with the Kamikaze! “Sacred felt truly threatened, maybe for the first time since returning,” Pete notes in his excitement, “and he knew he had to do something to turn the tide!” “I’ll give it up for Mak, he has real guts,” King freely admits, “but as I knew from the start, he would always go down to Sacred, he’s just too smart!” That same smart man is seen curled up on the mat, holding his shoulder after using his injured arm as a battering ram to take Francis down. The fans are on their feet, wondering what’s going to happen next as Mak coughs and splutters, almost unable to move in all his pain. Sacred is not much worse off, crawling on his hands and knees, his shoulder and his arm burning. But he summons up enough strength to turn Mak over and flop an arm across his chest as Kivell slides over… ONE! TWO! THHHHRRRREEEEEEE! … But the count stops dead before the three. Sacred continues looking down at the mat, thinking he had won, until he hears the crowd cheering, and knows it’s not for him. Blackwell looks up at Kivell, who holds up only the two fingers! Sacred shakes his head in disbelief, but Kivell is sure as he points to Mak’s foot, perched on the bottom rope! “Mak simply will not lay down and die!” Pete triumphantly shouts. “He’s gone this far already, and he’s going to take Sacred the distance!” “Sacred will make sure he puts him out permanently if that happens, because he’s not letting Mak beat him and take that title, not so soon.” Sacred yanks Mak to his feet with just a hint of frustration, tying to whip him across the ring as hard as possible. Mak hits the turnbuckles, but this time he hangs on, not going to leave himself open again. But Sacred is two steps ahead of him, reaching down and taking his legs out form under him. Mak tries to squirm away, but Sacred grabs his injured leg and spins him around, sliding out of the ring and dragging him around… *CLANG!* …and the unmistakable sound of groin on ring post is heard as Sacred crotches Mak! The fans boo, the male audience just a little louder, but Sacred isn’t finished as he grabs Mak’s injured leg and wraps it around the ring post, and entwines it with his own legs… “Oh no…” Pete says with dread. “Sacred has Mak in a FIGURE FOUR AROUND THE RING POST! This is just sick the lengths he will go to.” “That it may be,” King replies, “but it’s genius, it’s going to allow Sacred to hold onto his title, and eliminate another challenger.” The fans cry fowl; the roar is unbelievable as Sacred’s entire body shakes as he exerts even more energy in ripping Mak apart. Kivell starts his count in haste under protest from the fans, but that doesn’t give Mak much solace as he cries out in the utmost agony. “ONE!” “TWO!” BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! “THREE!” “FOUR!” Sacred finally let’s go, which Kivell finds odd, thinking he would simply aim for a disqualification. But as Sacred dusts himself off and climbs to his feet, he looks at Mak, in agony, and knows this match is his. He wants to end it right. But Mak soldiers on despite the odds, crawling away, shaking his leg, trying to just get some feeling back so he can somehow muster something, anything. Sacred takes a small breather on the outside; he’s directed so much attention to Mak’s leg that the pain in his arm suddenly reminds him of the precarious state he’s in. Blackwell slides back into the ring, knowing victory is close, but Mak climbs back to his feet, still with fight left in him. Sacred sneaks up behind Mak, taking him down with a chop block. The constant roar of the fans just adds to the tension as Mak’s eyes close tight, biting his lip and refusing to give Sacred the satisfaction. Sacred takes it upon himself to rip Mak’s knee brace off, tossing it aside like an simple inconvenience. “Now he’s just going too far,” Pete stammers. “We’ve not seen behavior like this from him since… well, last Genesis.” “I’d go back a little further,” King reminds Londogger, “to the Genesis before. Axis remembers that night all too well.” With that ghastly image in mind, the crowd continues to pounce on Sacred as he drops elbow after elbow on Mak’s knee, jarring it at dangerous angles. Suddenly, without warning, Sacred shifts position on the mat, ending up in front of Mak, looking right into his eyes at he takes his leg, ready to lock on the Deprogrammer. But Mak won’t let it happen. He kicks wildly, connecting with Sacred’s chest and thrusting him away. Sacred tries to grab at his leg again, but Mak’s boot strikes Blackwell’s shoulder and forces the Australian on the back foot. Mat pulls himself to his feet using the ropes, his arms taking the load, but they’re more than adequate for the task. Sacred, on the other hand, clutches his shoulder, the sharp kick doing more damage than he lets on. Sacred sees Mak get up, near the ropes, and sets his crosshairs directly on him. Mak lies in wait as he clumsily stumbles forward, drawing Sacred in as he charges… The momentum works against him as Mak suddenly pounces, wrapping his arms around Sacred’s chest and not even stopping as he lifts Sacred off of one leg, throwing him over his head! “A release Belly to Belly, out of nowhere!” Pete marvels as the audience cheers, although stunned as well. “Sacred has focused on that knee so much, but Mak had to know he would, and was able to pull that move off on one leg!” “But it’s only so long before he wares himself out,” King replies, “using all that upper body strength and momentum alone cannot last long.” Sacred lands on his side and climbs back to his feet, clutching his shoulder, but with his free arm tries to knock Mak’s teeth out with a clothesline, but Mak expertly ducks underneath, grabbing Sacred in a waist lock and… *BAM!* … Throwing him up and over with a German Suplex! The fans cheer and applaud, seeing Mak pull off the impossible as he keeps a hold of Sacred, popping his hips and rolling back to his feet, still attached to Sacred. The Aussie flays his arms about like a madman, but Mak positions his good leg forward, putting the brunt of the weight on it before lifting Sacred into the air once again.. *WHAM!* Dumping him on the back of his head with another German! “Where Mak is getting this I will never know!” Pete cries. “But he’s had enough, and he’s using his technical background to it’s fullest in this brutal high impact match!” Mak tries to pull Sacred to his feet for another crippling Rommel, but Sacred focuses all his weight forward, blocking the attempt. Sacred uses his good arm to elbow Mak in the face. Once, twice, three times, Francis finally falters and stumbles backward as Sacred spins around to deliver a knock out blow… Mak has almost no time to react, seeing Sacred fly towards him, he swings his leg around.. *BAM!* …and connects with a Yazuka Kick! Sacred tumbles backward, falling over the top rope… until he entangs himself in the ropes! “Mak again defies the odds and takes Sacred down, but he used his injured leg,” Pete notes, “but with no time to think, he needed to do something, but now Sacred is trapped, with no where to go!” The Aussie is locked up in the ropes, much like the convict nickname the crowd has bestowed upon him. Mak stares up into the face of the Sacred One from his position on the mat, but there is no smirk present on his features this time. Only a cold, hard look, from a man that has had his career—no livelihood shortened by the person in front of him. Sacred’s head rolls to the side for a second as he grimaces from the shot he took to the face. At this point, all he can hear are the faint murmurs of cheers from the crowd, after being suplexed on his head and to his belly, then being kicked dead in the face. A blink and Sacred’s eyes flutter back into focus. He can see the limping from of his opponent and as with each step, Mak gets closer. Sacred attempts to move, and now realizes that he’s trapped, looking to his right he sees Kivell veining attempting to free him from the ropes. Out of his periphery he catches a glimmer of Mak’s fist as it comes toward his head… *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* “Mak just teeing off on Sacred…” Pete says, as the Franchise continues to rear back and swing away. *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* Kivell decides it’s time to step in, finished attempting to release Sacred from his imprisonment. He steps in front of Mak and tries to guide him back slightly. “Okay Francis, give me a rope break. I’ve got to get him out.” Mak literally reaches over Kivell continuing to pound on the Sacred One. *BAM!* *BAM!* “Hey, break goddamnit!” shouts Kivell, now physically pushing Mak back with his own body. He’s let things on the outside and inside slide this entire match. This is where he draws the line. But all he gets is a pie face for his troubles. *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* "King, this is... does Mak even WANT to win the match?" *BAM!* *BAM!* "I couldn't tell you what he's thinking, Pete. The kid snapped when Sacred went after his knee again with that Upright figure four..." *BAM!* “He clutched his leg after that Yazuka kick, and the pain he felt must have been so unbearable, and now the rage is flowing…” *BAM!!!!!* Kivell gets to his knees to signal for the bell – he’s the referee and Francis has gone too far, but Mak finally stops as the crowd continues to cheer his attack on Sacred. The World champ tied up in the ropes can do nothing, as Francis limps outside and struggles over to the time keeper, taking his chair. Sliding back into the ring, Mak stares Sacred in eye and smiles- *CRACK!!!!!* -Before blasting him with a chair shot to the head!!! The bell is immediate this time as Mak has to know that he’s been disqualified for that action. *DING! DING! DING!* … *CRACK!!!!* Another blow is struck before Mak finally puts the chair down, looking down at Sacred, his head hung low, blood tricking down from an open wound on his forehead. Kivell puts a hand on Mak’s shoulder and asks him to step away. Francis spin around and looks at the referee, and then the thousands of fans, some dumbstruck, but some still cheer, after see the moment they waiting so long for. Mak doesn’t smile, nor does he regret, he simply stands in the centre of the ring and listens to Funyon’s announcement. “Ladies and Gentleman, the winner of this bout by Disqualification… and STILL! The S W F WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION… SSSAAAACCCCRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDDDDDDD!” “I guess we should have expected an outcome like this,” Pete says. “But the match was brutal, and both men will never forget it. I know I sure won’t any time soon.” “Mak is nuts,” King simply replies. “I hope he’s happy with what he’s done, I know these fans are, but spare a thought for our World Champion! He’s still strung up, bloody and in need of medical attention!” Some attention does come from backstage, but unfortunately for Mak; it comes in the form of Revolution Zero, who all smile as one as they stride down the ramp. Mak stands defiant in the centre of the ring, while Sacred just begins to murmur as Kivell and some ringside attendants try to unravel the mess Sacred is in. “Ha HAH!” King loudly proclaims. “You thought Sacred would turn his back on the Revolution, didn’t you? But now they’re here to make sure Mak gets what’s coming to him!” “This is not good, not good at all…” Pete quietly replies. “These two have been through hell, and now Rev0 are going to simply murder Mak.” “I know I would. Look at Sacred, bloody, beaten and bruised after the beating of a madman!” Toxxic stands at the foot of the ring as Spike and Davis swing around to the flanks, but still Francis doesn’t budge. The three members of the Revolution all climb into the ring, taking their time. The three men all stand around Francis as he looks at each of them… … Before hurling himself towards Toxxic, connecting with a right hand! Toxxic takes a few shots before he answers with one of his own that knock Mak down. Spike and Davis then swoop on his corpse, bringing him to his feet as Spike holds him in a chickenwing, and Davis picks up the chair. Spike and Davis both grin as the chair is swung… *CCRRRAAAAAACCCCCKKKKK!* … And Mak goes down as the boos ring out amongst the throng of fans, almost ready to riot. Toxxic kindly helps Sacred from the ropes, checking to see if he’s all right, and handing him the World Title he just bled for. “Just like I said, the Revolution is as strong as ever!” The picture begins to fade out as the SWF logo appears on the screen… Copyright Smarkmarks Wrestling Federation 2004 ‘Raising Workrate By Typing Faster’ …but the camera suddenly shifts to Toxxic, who gives a sideways nod to Davis. … The final picture shows the chair being swung, right at the bloody Australian. … “… Oh my go-” … Fade out.

The camera opens up on Tom Flesher behind his desk. He wears his standard blue-and-white-striped dress shirt, collar open, and a navy blazer. As Flesher speaks, the camera slowly pulls back. “Well, gentlemen… ma’am… it’s good to see all… most… of you again.” Flesher looks toward one side of the screen, shudders at something still offscreen, and continues. “It’s a pleasure to see you’re all still loyal to the SWF, and I’m happy to see you stepping up when we needed you.” The camera continues pulling back, finally settling on a view that partially obscures Flesher behind four rear silhouettes. One, in particular, is nearly seven feet tall; another’s back is so wide that he dwarfs even the broad-shouldered Superior One. The third is a slightly-built junior heavyweight who looks oddly familiar. “Two former World Champions… one of the most talented athletes ever to fail to reach his potential… and… you.” Flesher looks again to his right, pausing to grimace before shaking off the disgust. “Unfortunately, I only have slots available for three of you, and, well, I think it’s clear who they’ll go to. Gentlemen, please go get warmed up. I’ve taken the liberty of drawing your numbers for you. You’re coming in at #8,” Flesher says, nodding at the particularly muscular specimen in front of him. “#10 for you,” he says to the giant, “so don’t go too crazy with the Kielbasa. You’ve got a long night. And you,” he says to the junior, “you’re coming in at #17, just because I like you. Wardrobe has something for each of you, in case you came unprepared. Your checks are in your lockers, and remember… the winner goes to From the Fire to face Sacred or Francis.” Flesher grins. “God, I’m excited about that. Anyways, it’s a pleasure having you back on board for the night, and I’m looking forward to seeing you screw with some of the young’uns. Would you believe Jenkins is legit all of a sudden? … but I digress. Go on and get ready.” With that, the three men nod and file out of the room, ready to be revealed in the Clusterfuck match when their numbers come up. As the fourth starts out, Flesher stands up and says, “Wait a second.” She turns around, facing Flesher. “And what the hell did you bring me out here for? You knew you only had three slots open.” The beady, dark eyes of the black, misanthropic ferret-weasel mix pierce through the screen. “Well, frankly… Allison couldn’t make it out for the show, and I haven’t had any coffee.” Ebony’s eyes narrow into slits. “You… flew me out… to make coffee?!” “If it’s any consolation, I didn’t call you until Cutthroat turned me down… and JT Playa, I think. I couldn’t understand a word the kid was saying.” “God, and you wonder why you’re obsolete,” Ebony mutters, before throwing a stiff kick squarely into Flesher’s crotch. Tom staggers forward, then drops to his knees, gasping to try and get his breath back after being Ebonised. The crossbreed turns around, her snout in the air, and struts off looking accomplished. Flesher, meanwhile, tries to get one more sentence out. “Can… I… at least… stretch you?” ~fin~

Once long ago, a black plague descended upon the land… a fugue of suffering and a disease of torture that would have consumed all had not fate intervened… But some things cannot be avoided, only forgotten about until the time comes where it will rise again… Evil cannot be vanquished as long as man finds it in their heart to hate, to lust for revenge, to want to subjugate… Assimilate… Destroy. And faith? Faith is nothing more than lies by those who wish to control you… it cannot stop the gears of this evil machine from returning to life… There is only but one fate left for those who have survived this long… that the end of this pax is at hand… JUDGEMENT IS COMING FEBRUARY 2005

Revolution Zero have things going their way in the corner, and the weary Grappler walks in towards Strangler, swinging with a right. But TBS ducks and hooks Grappler's head, SPIKING him with a wisely chosen neckbreaker, causing grimaces and groans from the Grappler! Up pops Strangler, just in time too, as Spike has gotten a little cocky and charges him with a Lariat... ...which Strangler doesn't seem to feel. "Spike needs to do more than that." chortles Pete. "Like WHAT!?! This is the guy who no sells being RUN OVER!!" Spike suddenly freezes and enters 'cowardly heel mode', backing away from Strangler, luring him into an eyepoke. Strangler clutches his eyeball as Spike hits the ropes once more, going low with soccer tackle. With his leg taken out, Strangler drops to one knee, while Spike lines him up... *SMACK!* ...kick! *SMACK!* ...kick! ... Spike misses the kick and pirouettes a full 360, getting caught on the way back around into a standing spinebuster! Landing hard, Spike shivers and quivers as Strangler, turns away, seeing Grappler leant against the ropes in agony... ...PUTTING HIM OUT OF HIS MISERY, AND THE CLUSTERFUCK, WITH A CLOTHESLINE!! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" "Matthews is GONE!" gasps Pete. "Last year's winner learns what it's like to lose in the Clusterfuck!" "And could that be an omen Pete? No-one could eliminate Grappler last year, this year Strangler returns and dumps him!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Charlie "Grappler" Matthews ENTERED: 8th LEFT: 7th ELIMINATED: David Cross ELIMINATED BY: The Boston Strangler LEFT IN RING: Johnny Dangerous, Sean Davis, Todd Cortez, The Boston Strangler, Landon Maddix, Spike Jenkins ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Again the referees are quickly over to check on Charlie Matthews, knowing how serious neck injuries can be. But Grappler seems to be relatively okay as he looks up at the ring and Strangler, able to look on the bright side somewhat. The fallen Matthews has to get the hell out of the way quickly though as Sean Davis suddenly breaks away, catching Strangler unawares AND BUNDLES HIM OVER AND OUT!! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" "STRANGLER'S GONE TOO!" King cries in shock. "Two BIG names, two former World Champions...gone, in a matter of seconds. And what a scalp for Sean Davis, eliminating the monsterous Strangler!" "Yeah. So much for omens." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Boston Strangler ENTERED: 10th LEFT: 8th ELIMINATED: Charlie Matthews ELIMINATED BY: Sean Davis LEFT IN RING: Johnny Dangerous, Sean Davis, Todd Cortez, Landon Maddix, Spike Jenkins ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The fans are in shock as both Strangler and Grappler wind up on the floor, Grappler able to look on the bright side MUCH easier now his conquerer is done for. Strangler is not so amused though. Infact he's pissed. ..."FIVE!" "FOUR!" As, in the chaos, the time has spun down to three and counting... "THREE!" "TWO!" "ONE!" *BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!* "Who's next?" "It's a wonderful place, oh what a wonderful place..." "For you..." "... for you..." "For you... not me..." ... *BOOOOOM!* The cover of "Street Fighting Man" takes over as the bitter former Cruiserweight Champion saunters through the curtains. "From St Louis, Missouri... AAAAUUUUSSSSTTIIIIINN SSSSSLLLLYYYYYY!!" As one bitter individual makes his way towards the ring, referees are calling for reinforcements to get rid of another...The Boston Strangler, who has lost it on the floor and his kicking at railings and screaming at the zebras around him. "Austin Sly doesn't look too happy with number fourteen." muses Pete. "Sly doesn't look too happy with life." King corrects his partner. Reinforcements are on the way, Charlie Matthews providing a word in the ear for Strangler, trying to calm him down while the two are escorted to the back. Whilst that commotion goes on on the floor, Austin Sly skulks past and enters the ring. Davis and Jenkins are still the only men standing in the ring...and as Sly rolls in, he's already seeking peace, holding up his hands and casually backing into the corner. The Revolution let him be, as Maddix is up behind them, the freshest of the three anti-Rev Zeroers. Davis greets him, with a hand gripped around the throat... *CHING!* ...leaving himself open to the first lowblow of the Fuck! "SHENANIGANS~!" Davis groans as Maddix hits the ropes and charges at Davis, who remains doubled over. Up goes Landon, Mushroom Stomping off of Davis' back...and just about springing off, into a clothesline on Spike! The crowd erupt for that, as Landon scrambles back up, connecting with a Dropsault that staggers Davis back against the ropes. Quickly Maddix tries to take advantage, lifting up a leg of Davis, the crowd routing him on, but failing to notify him of Austin Sly creeping up behind and kneeing him in the kidneys! Falling dramatically to his knees, Maddix clutches his back while Sly stands over him and puts on the bad mouth. "Revolution Zero of course don't have Toxxic in this one, as must originally have been the plan." points out Pete. "But, it looks like Austin Sly is willing to help them out. "That won't last. It's the Clusterfuck Pete, it never lasts." Sly quickly stomps Cortez and Dangerous back to subdued positions before grabbing Maddix, irish whipping him across the ring. He hits the ropes as Sly sets, but Spike beats him to it, STOing Maddix out of Austin's path! But Sly shrugs it off and goes after Cortez. Jenkins meanwhile starts to choke Maddix, whilst Johnny is back up and suddenly EXPLODING on Davis (not like that) with right hands! "Johnny Dangerous, the #3 man, still alive!" With all six men paired off, the fight goes to three seperate corners, as Maddix backs away from Spike, only to jab his eyes in, retaliation for Strangler if you will. Cortez too gets the advantage on Sly and the two Martial Law members look, giving the nod and whipping Spike and Sly... *OOOF!* ...into each other! Both staggers backwards breathlessly as Cortez and Maddix charge, connecting with stereo dropkicks to the back of the two men's heads, knocking them together with a modified Collision Course!! Spike and Sly wobble and get grabbed, simultaneously tossed over the top...both both hang on, skinning the cat to re-enter the ring. Or, at least, Spike does...as Cortez is alert enough to dropkick Sly in the face, causing him to lose his grip and CRASH TO THE MATS BELOW!! "YEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Austin Sly ENTERED: 14th LEFT: 9th ELIMINATED: Nobody ELIMINATED BY: Todd Cortez LEFT IN RING: Johnny Dangerous, Sean Davis, Todd Cortez, Landon Maddix, Spike Jenkins ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Austin Sly is eliminated. It wasn't a good day for him, for him, for him, not me!" Pete jokes. Down to 5 in the ring again and Cortez quickly rushes over to help out his rival/partner for most of this Fuck, Johnny Dangerous, against Davis. Meanwhile, Spike has come back in swinging, battering Maddix down to his knees before hitting the ropes. Spike comes back, springs off the knee... *SMACK!* ...and NAILS the Shining Wizard! Maddix crashes out through the bottom and middle ropes to the floor, as Spike quickly notices Davis in trouble, rushing over to assist. "TEN!" "NINE!" "EIGHT!" "Number fifteen will bring us to the three quarter point..." "SEVEN!" "SIX!" "FIVE!" "FOUR!" "THREE!" "This is the number TNT won from two years ago Pete, don't forget that!" "TWO!" "ONE!" *BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!* “Gimme Shelter” by The Rolling Stones kicks into gear to a reaction of mixed proportions, bringing out another grizzled veteran. "Hailing from Dallas, Texas... MMUUUUUUUUNNIIIIICCCHHHHH!!!" Munich drops his cigarettes and shirt on the stage before striding down the aisle, Landon Maddix already in his sights. Maddix is to his feet but completely lost. So he's understandably not expecting Munich to jump him from behind with clubbing blow after clubbing blow. "Munich, former Hardcore Gamers Champion, taking this one to the floor!" Pete calls. "Former Hardcore Gamers Champion? For 6 days, three years ago?" sneers King, before re-thinking. "Then again, anyone who beats on this snotty brat is good in my book." Maddix and Munich brawl away on the floor, referees trying in vain to get them towards the ring. Meanwhile, back in that ring, it’s Rev Zero dominating Johnny and Cortez. Cortez is down as Spike directs traffic, while Davis steps behind Johnny and holds his arms, while Spike delivers a couple of slaps. The Cruiserweight Champion then leaps to the middle rope, lining Johnny up as he comes off the buckles... *CHING!* ...LANDING A-STRADLE JOHNNY'S RIGHT LEG!! "Dammit!" snaps King. "Maddix comes in and suddenly, everyone's going lowblow loony!" Spike collapses to the side, rigid, as Johnny... *CHING!* ...LETS DAVIS FEEL HIS PARTNER'S PAIN! "SEE!?!" Davis joins his partner on the canvas with his testicles clutches. Dangerous meantime glances behind him, seeing Cortez getting up and charging him, TIPPING CORTEZ UP AND... ...NOT QUITE OUT! Cortez hangs on by the skin of his teeth, withstanding some stomps and re-entering the ring quickly. Johnny meets him with a Shotei, Cortez retaliates with a Shotei. And as the earlier entrant, Johnny feels more effect, allowing Cortez to turn and toss Johnny out... ...TO THE APRON! Johnny saves himself, dragging himself to his feet on the apron, which prompts Cortez to vault off the middle rope, dropkicking at Dangerous. But he manages to drop down and avoid the contact, Cortez's legs hitting the top rope on the way down and bouncing him into an awkward landing on his head and shoulder!! Dangerous quickly re-enters the ring. "Close calls for Cortez and Dangerous, both of whom have been in for some time. Infact, Johnny Dangerous has just passed the twenty-five minute mark!" "Impressive, for sure." concedes King. Weakly Johnny drops to one knee momentarily, but drags himself on and catches Davis as he gets up, front facelocking him and DDTing Sean. Away stumbles Dangerous, as Munich and Maddix suddenly slide in behind him. Dangerous meanwhile grabs Spike's leg and sits in, hooking the leg over his shoulder and applying The Barracuda!! ... *TAP TAP TAP!* Spike goes tap crazy, lucky the match doesn't accept tap-outs just yet. All the same, Johnny releases the hold as he's content with the damage done, glancing across as Munich comes at Maddix with a clothesline. The ICTV Champion ducks it though, Munich sprawling forward, unable to stop himself as quickly as he'd like. Around he whips, as Landon charges and Dropsaults Munich backwards, his relatively tall frame taking him over the top... ...but like many before him, Munich hooks the top rope on his way over, able to pull himself onto the apron... *SMACK!* ...but, unlike those before him, he then eats some Sweet Cuca Music and CRASHES TO THE FLOOR BELOW! "YEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHH!" "We're down to five again, Munich gone now!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Munich ENTERED: 15th LEFT: 10th ELIMINATED: Nobody ELIMINATED BY: Landon Maddix LEFT IN RING: Johnny Dangerous, Sean Davis, Todd Cortez, Landon Maddix, Spike Jenkins ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As Munich gets his marching orders, Landon does a little jig back into the centre of the ring, before old rival Johnny Dangerous takes it upon himself to charge him. He's met by forearms...three, four, five of them, before Maddix looks for the whip. Dangerous spins out though, pulling Maddix up onto a fireman's carry before tumbling forward, executing the Spinal Explosion! But as Dangerous rolls to his feet, Spike Jenkins runs from the side... *SMACK!* ...and connects with his YAKUZAAAAAAAAA~! Kick! Johnny slumps to the canvas as the official Clusterfuck Timer™, sponsored by Pepsi Max, has reached ten. "NINE!" "EIGHT!" "SEVEN!" "SIX!" "FIVE!" "FOUR!" "THREE!" "TWO!" "ONE!" *BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!* “Feuer Frei” by Rammsten hits and out from the blocks bursts the sole German representative in the Clusterfuck. "From Kassel, Germany... KKAAAAAAAAAIIIIINNNEEEEEEEEE!!" Tagging some hands on the way, Kaine rolls into the ring and straight away, goes right after Spike Jenkins, the two heated rivals exchanging heated right hands, backing into the corner and wailing away on one another. "Kaine! It's Kaine!" Pete cries belatedly. "He had walked through his hell, fire...and he's bringing the brimstone, right here!" "Wrong Kaine goofball." "I know that. I was trying to provide some Bob Riley, Cy Comet style amusement. Idiot." "Oh. In that case, that's either Kaine bringing brimstone or your wife is in the building." chortles King, before getting his headset knocked off his head by a casual Longdogger swipe. As Kaine and Spike continue to do battle, Sean Davis strolls over behind the battle and grabs Kaine by the tights, yanking him off of Jenkins and swinging with a right hand...which Kaine evades, AND SPIKE FEASTS ON!! An apologetic Davis forgets about Kaine and helps his partner up, while Kaine backs up, getting a run-up before sprinting in. Davis avoids him, Kaine connecting with a Stinger Splash on the hapless Jenkins instead! Kaine then dives out of the way as Todd Cortez appears on the scene, drop-toe-holding Davis as he turns, sending Davis' head DEEP INTO SPIKE'S GROIN AREA! "OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!" "Revolution miscues goin' down here!" "Well, that's just hideous." Rolling away with a hold of his head, Davis is by far the better off of the two if Spike's facial expression is anything to go by. Davis pulls himself up and stumbles away, Kaine following while Cortez chokes Spike...Kaine hooking on a front facelock. The Perfect Storm backdrops Kaine with ease though, the German soaring over the top rope... ...only to land on his feet on the apron majestically, lamping Davis with a forearm. Davis stumbles away slightly, far enough for Kaine to springboard dropkick Davis. "Well, I guess Kaine is taking over the mantle of eye catching cruiserweight this year." smiles Pete. "Of course, The Insane Luchador saved himself on a few occassions with much flair and finesse..." "And then, got dumped anyway." "Well, true." Kaine scrambles to his feet and rushes Davis, sliding into him with both feet across the temple, scrambling straight up again to be met with a Spinning Backfist from Johnny Dangerous! Kaine howls, clutching his jaw as he falls to his ass, while Johnny gets whipped around... *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOO!" ...and Maddix = Chop! Johnny charges Maddix though, head down and taking Maddix into the corner before attempting to lift out the ICTV Champion. Back in the centre of the ring, Kaine is up, blood dripping from a busted lip as he turns around, gets goozled...and CHOKESLAMMED by Davis!! But Davis has no time to celebrate, before Cortez finds the energy to launch an attack, sweeping Davis' legs out with a scything kick. Davis bumps his head, as Cortez takes his time over crawling over, helping to pull Johnny off of Maddix, while the Timer™ decreases again! "TEN!" "NINE!" "EIGHT!" "SEVEN!" "SIX!" "FIVE!" "FOUR!" "THREE!" "TWO!" "ONE!" *BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!* ... But nobody comes out. "It's your number! Get off your ass and do it Pete!" "FOR THE LAST TIME, I'M NOT IN THIS YOU DOLT!" The crowd seem confused, some booing at the mere thought of a Clusterfuck no-show. That is until the camera shifts to ringside, where referee Ced Ordonez is stripping off his zebra stripes, causing the crowd to go KE-RAZY!! "Ced!?!" "Either that or he's been drinking before he got out here and feels a little exhibitionalist." Ced rolls into the ring, as #17, rushing Cortez and Dangerous who both turn in confusion...AND GET CROSSBODIED!! Rolling off of those two, Ced sees Maddix running at him and springs out of a crouching position, hurricanranaing Maddix and sending him skidding the full way across the rest of the ring!! "And Ordonez is going for it King!" "Well, he's no slouch."King admits. "Let's face it, Ced used to be a hot prospect in this business. Trouble is, most of our fans probably remember him best from that Waywards Sons debacle." "Yeah, that did kinda suck." Ordonez calls over Davis, evading his flailing grab and rotating a dropkick into Davis' jaw. Spike is next to charge, receiving a japanese arm drag. Spike scrambles back up, but Ced catches him on the way past... *SMACK!* ...with an Enziguri! Spike collapses facefirst, as Ced hits the ropes, POWERDRIVING~! an elbow into Spike's upper back! Now the only man left to get interactive with now is Kaine, who he picks up off the canvas and irish whips into the ropes. Kaine rushes back, Ced waiting for him with a leaping, spinning back elbow. The shot seems to open Kaine's lip up even more as he gets up, clutching his bloody mouth as Ordonez lines him up for a superkick. Kaine catches the foot before it can knock his head off and Kaine is all like 'Yah, dat es goot!', but Ced is all like 'Hey, watch my funky dancing feet' as Kaine whips him off, nailing Kaine with a Dragon Whip! Kaine flies away, as Ced fires up the crowd! "Ordonez has of course been watching the action from the floor all night, so, I guess he has that edge." mumbles Pete, at a loss to explain Ced's dominance. Up comes Kaine, catching a boot in the jaw which sends him reeling, ALMOST over the top, but Kaine is able to skin the cat and save himself. Ced grabs him halfway in a cravaté, trying to flip Kaine out, but Kaine has hold of the middle rope. That is, until Sean Davis comes up behind the two men, SHOVING CED, CAUSING ORDONEZ AND KAINE TO FLY TO THE FLOOR!! "Davis caught them! And there go two more!" cheers King. "Sean Davis has now eliminated FIVE men, by far the highest running total this year and...man, I'm nothing but impressed by The Perfect Storm!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Kaine ENTERED: 16th LEFT: 11th ELIMINATED: Nobody ELIMINATED BY: Sean Davis ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ced Ordonez ENTERED: 17th LEFT: 12th ELIMINATED: Nobody ELIMINATED BY: Sean Davis LEFT IN RING: Johnny Dangerous, Sean Davis, Todd Cortez, Landon Maddix, Spike Jenkins ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "And AGAIN, we're down to these five!" exclaims Pete. Ordonez scrambles off the floor and quickly recovers his referee shirt, re-donning his stripes as if nothing has happened...while Kaine must leave. "Davis may have made a big mistake Pete. I don't think Ordonez is above screwing Sean Davis, personally." Davis turns around, soaking up his latest elimination and quickly clotheslining down both Cortez and Dangerous, who are both running on near empty currently. In the meanwhile, Landon Maddix is back up, spinning Davis around and asks him how his forearms taste with a FLURRY~!, while the Clusterfuck Timer™ appears. ..."SEVEN!" "SIX!" "FIVE!" "FOUR!" "THREE!" "TWO!" "ONE!" *BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!* Cypress Hill's "How I Could Just Kill A Man" hits and the crowd jeer wildly, as Australia is about to represent! "From Sydney, Australia... SSSTTTRRRRYYYYYYYKKEEEEEEEE!!!" Stryke jogs down the aisle, set to make it 6 in the ring, hoping to do better than the last few that preceded him. In he slides, bundling Maddix into Davis in a colission that causes both men to crash off to the side, leaving Stryke standing alone. "Stryke getting a good number, number eighteen." points out King. "And this is the man who put his career on the line in last year's Clusterfuck remember." "Which...begs the question why he's even here. But, it's all cool." Dangerous staggers back up and over to Stryke, into a sleeper hold, which quickly becomes a Sleeper Drop and Stryke drops straight south. But he cannot rest on his laurels as Todd Cortez is right up behind Stryke, whipping him into the corner. Cortez looks to go for his Handspring Elbow...but thinks better of it, instead going for a less strenuous straight charge, which ends with a boot to Cortez's jaw! Away staggers Cortez, Stryke charging him with a RUNNING European Uppercut, knocking Cortez clear off his feet and a good foot backwards! But Stryke isn't finished there... "DOUBLE STOMP!" cries Stryke, his accent apparantely confusing some of the Washington natives as they scream 'What'. But Stryke runs in anyway... ...but Maddix suddenly pops up into camera shot, flipping Stryke into a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker to save his Martial Law ally. Now, it's Maddix running to the ropes, coming back and driving a double stomp into Stryke's gut. "THAT'S A DOUBLE STOMP!" Maddix screams down at Stryke. But, he takes his eye off the ball, allowing Davis to turn Maddix around, boot, lift and DROP him with a Brainbuster DDT!! "Okay, I'm begging Davis to just dump everyone." sighs King. "Except Spike obviously. And...King." "Leaving Max King two on one in the triple threat?" "..." "Touché!" Maddix remains down, Davis equally hurt it seems. Meanwhile, Spike is up and pulls his fellow Smark veteran Stryke to his feet. However, Johnny Dangerous is back up, backfisting Spike in the back of the head before grabbing Stryke himself. Johnny charges, looking to toss Stryke into the front row. But Johnny is more fatigued than he thinks and can only throw Stryke through the MIDDLE rope, to the floor. Stryke pops straight back up, Johnny exhaustedly cursing his luck. Leaving himself open for a clothesline from Davis! Davis now stumbles away. Stryke meanwhile leaps to the apron, climbing up top and giving the sign for some FLIPPY FLIPPY! Up top, Stryke sets...and HITS the 450 Splash on Dangerous! "Stryke connecting! If memory serves me correct, Stryke did pretty well the last two years." recalls Pete. "Maybe with this draw, he can go on to..." "Main event From The Fire?" laughs King. "Stryke's great and all, but, boy would that buyrate tank!" "I don't know about that." Quickly Davis is on Stryke and looking for a suplex, managing to get Stryke up before turning the move into a powerslam. Davis now goes off to help Spike up...as we're approaching Clusterfuck Timer™ time. Davis pulls Spike up and checks he's okay, giving him the thumbs up. But as he does, Todd Cortez suddenly torpedoes into life, a double flying clothesline wiping out RevZero! "Man, this is a back and forth Clusterfuck if I ever saw one folks! And we have just two men to enter, one of whom is Max King..." ..."SIX!" "FIVE!" "The other is UNKNOWN~!" "FOUR!" "THREE!" "TWO!" "Wouldn't it be something if it was Mark Stevens?" beams Pete, to incoherent King mumbling. "ONE!" *BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!* *BOOOOOM!* "Superstar" by Saliva hits and the crowd go boo crazy, as Max King emerges at #19...bringing Kelly Connelly to the ring with him! "From Philidelphia, Pennsylvania... he is "THE ICON" MMAAAAAAAAXXXXX KKIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNGGGG!!!" King and Kelly saunter to the ring, apparantly unaware of the rules of the Clusterfuck, that managers are banned from ringside. Either that, or they just don't give a crap. "Here we go, my pick to win this whole Clusterfuck Pete!" King cheers. "And at number nineteen, he has to be considered the favourite!" "Until number twenty comes out." "Unless number twenty is Tom Flesher, I stand by my remark." "What if it's The Memphis Eel." "...oh crap, that'd be awesome, I might just splooge in my pants and everything!" While King takes his time over entering the ring, Todd Cortez drags Spike Jenkins up and starts to stack him on the top rope with intent to send him flying to the floor. But Sean Davis is still fighting despite exhaustion, pulling Cortez off of Jenkins and clubbing him with a right. Cortez swings back. Davis nails a punch. Cortez palm strikes. That seems to daze Davis, but he shakes it off and charges Cortez, roaring his intent as he swings and CLOTHESLINES... ...SPIKE... ...OVER THE TOP ROPE!!!!! "YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" "What in the FUCK!?!" f-bombs King. "Davis! Eliminates! Spike!" Pete emphasises through a beaming smile. "What...in the FUCK!?!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Spike Jenkins ENTERED: 13th LEFT: 13th ELIMINATED: Wildchild ELIMINATED BY: Sean Davis LEFT IN RING: Johnny Dangerous, Sean Davis, Todd Cortez, Landon Maddix, Stryke, 'Max King' ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Jenkins rolls to his knees, looks up...and to say Jenkins is PISSED would be an understatement too large not to mention. A shocked Davis tries to apologise but Jenkins is inconsolable on the floor, having to be held back by referees. "Revolution Zero might explode here!" cries Pete. "They're cracking at the seams!" "It...was a mistake. No more, no less." "Try telling that to Spike Jenkins!" Davis suddenly finds himself spun around and getting smacked with some palm strikes, Landon Maddix coming up and helping out with some forearms, despite being hurt from the Brainbuster earlier. Outside of the ring, there is as much action as in it though. Spike is being ejected by the referee legion and he's set to be joined by Kelly Connelly, who is just now being informed she cannot reside at ringside during the match! Meaning the referees have three very angry people howling at them in the aisle. Eventually though, Kelly and Spike are ejected...and in protest at Kelly's departure, Max King stands in the aisle, refusing to enter the ring! "Now this is smart strategy." "Not getting in the ring!?!" says Pete angrily. "Seems more like cowardly than smart." "Smart, cowardly; whatever." Meanwhile, Martial Law have Davis in trouble, trying to elevate him out. Stryke and Dangerous are renewing their battle in another corner, delivering forearms. And STILL, King won't enter the ring, despite the Clusterfuck Timer™ winds down for the final time. Already the crowd are buzzing, wondering just who it could be...the mystery, number thirty entrant... "Here we go King, who could it be?" "TEN!" "NINE!" "EIGHT!" "Fallout?" "SEVEN!" "SIX!" "FIVE!" "Mayor McCheese?" "FOUR!" "THREE!" "TWO!" "Longdogger Pete?" "ONE!" "Shut up King, it ain't me!" *BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!* Out go the lights. "IT'S SABU!" "I doubt it, have you seen his wage demands?" retorts King, cut off from any more silliness by three words... "WAIT...AND...BLEED!" "YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" "Uhm...this can't be right." mutters Pete. "You have got to be kidding me, surely. I mean...no! He already..." Suddenly the lights snap on and sure enough, BLOODSHED is in the ring!!! All heads suddenly turn, all action having stopped due to the temporary black-out and everyone looks completely befuddled, even the Martial Law duo. No, no. ESPECIALLY the Martial Law duo. "Come ON!!!" whines King. "Bloodshed, making his...wink, wink, nudge, nudge...Clusterfuck debut!" "This is beyond unfair...HE'S ALREADY BEEN IN!" "I don't know what you mean." chuckles Pete. First to break from their confusion is Stryke, charging at Bloodshed and taking a trenchcoat assisted clothesline that knocks him down. Quickly Bloodshed then tears off the trenchcoat, tossing it aside as Johnny Dangerous runs in, Bloodshed ducking him before catching him with a Railbreaker! Martial Law don't know whever to attack or not and suddenly get their noggins knocked~! by Davis, collapsing as Davis now advances on Bloodshed. Stupidity, idiocy...whatever it is, Bloodshed doesn't back down... *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOO!" ...and even chops Davis! Bloodshed is lucky Davis is tired as Davis feels the stinging shot, Bloodshed quickly calling on some cheers before spiking Davis with a DDT! At which point, Max King slides in, trying to get the jump on Bloodshed, only to get swatted away with a thrust kick! Sure enough, The Icon rolls back under the bottom rope and stays on the floor, as now Bloodshed checks on Martial Law. Not sure why, seeing as he isn't a member. Wink wink. Bloodshed then turns back, ready to attack again. But suddenly a hand grips him by the pants, another by the hair, BEFORE HE'S TOSSED OVER TOP!! "Woooooaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!" cheers King, like a U.S sitcom audience member. "Bloodshed, eliminated...by Landon Maddix?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Bloodshed ENTERED: 20th LEFT: 14th ELIMINATED: Nobody ELIMINATED BY: Landon Maddix LEFT IN RING: Johnny Dangerous, Sean Davis, Todd Cortez, Landon Maddix, Stryke, 'Max King' ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Looking back into the ring, Bloodshed is to say the least SHOCKED AND ANGERED~ as Maddix shrugs his shoulders looking back down. Meanwhile, Cortez is watching all these, beffudled, not knowing who to be pissed off at first. Which disctracts him. AND ALLOWS MAX KING TO ENTER THE RING AND CLOTHESLINE CORTEZ OVER THE TOP, AND OUT!!! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" "YES!" cheers King once more. "Beautiful, Max!" "Dammit, Cortez didn't even know King was in the ring! And now, we're down to five men!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Todd Cortez ENTERED: 7th LEFT: 15th ELIMINATED: Austin Sly ELIMINATED BY: Max King LEFT IN RING: Johnny Dangerous, Sean Davis, Landon Maddix, Stryke, Max King ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ King poses, big smile on his face as Cortez more concerned with yelling at Bloodshed for his idiocy. Meanwhile, The Icon is soaking up the boos. Clearly not realising he has an old nemesis creeping up behind him... ...AND LOBBING HIM TO THE FLOOR!!!! "YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" "Make it FOUR!" "NOOOOOOOO!" howls King, as King bounces off the mats. "Damn it, now who am I supposed to route for?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Max King ENTERED: 20th LEFT: 16th ELIMINATED: Todd Cortez ELIMINATED BY: Landon Maddix LEFT IN RING: Johnny Dangerous, Sean Davis, Landon Maddix, Stryke ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "And now, we're one elimination away for some triple threatin'!" Maddix quickly turns around, not making the mistake the three men before him did. Charging at him is Stryke, but Maddix weaves away from his clothesline, locking for the SoDak Moment. Stryke escapes with back elbows to the gut, breaking Maddix's grip around his jaw before SMACKING him with a European uppercut...two...three, knocking Maddix down. Hitting the ropes, Stryke leaps and double stomps Maddix...coming down with a back senton just seconds later!! Meanwhile, Sean Davis is in danger of elimination for the umpteenth time in the night by Dangerous. Johnny has one leg up and is calling for re-inforcements. Stryke quickly runs over, grabbing the other leg and tipping Davis!! "Davis! Davis may be on his way out!" "And there's no Jenkins to help!" Davis tries to hang on while Stryke and Dangerous have him teetering dangerously above elimination, still in need of some help. The only other man in the ring is Landon Maddix, clutching his gut, hurt. "The most dominant man in this year's Clusterfuck, in serious danger here!" cries Pete. "His only hope of help is Landon Maddix, Martial Law member, the man who took his USJL Title." Trying to fight off Dangerous and Stryke alone, Davis almost forgets about gripping the top rope and teeters once more. But he hangs on, still in danger however. As now, Maddix is up. He looks across, sees the struggle...AND SITS BACK DOWN! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" But the jeers from the Washington crowd pull him up. Maddix looks to the fans and points to Davis, asking if they want him to help out...and he gets a resounding cheer, so charges and starts to push too! Davis' eyes are like saucers, as he knows he's close... ...very close... "Hang on Sean!" ...and... ...GONEEEEE!!!!!! "YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" "DAMN IT!" snaps King, as Davis hits the floor. "What an effort by Sean Davis! He entered 6th! He eliminated SIX! But now, he's gone, thanks to the final three men in the ring!" "Credit to Sean Davis." King applauds. "A gargantuan effort!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Sean Davis ENTERED: 6th LEFT: 17th ELIMINATED: Manson, Alan Clark, The Boston Strangler, Kaine, Ced Ordonez, Spike Jenkins ELIMINATED BY: Johnny Dangerous, Landon Maddix, Stryke LEFT IN RING: Johnny Dangerous, Landon Maddix, Stryke ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As the referees escort Davis back, referee Sexton Hardcastle slides into the ring, as we're down to the final three! Maddix, Dangerous and Stryke! Two former World Heavyweight Champions and a true ring veteran! *DING!* The bell rings and quickly Stryke crashes through Maddix with a clothesline, before schoolboying the weakest man remaining, The Barracuda, for the cover.... ONEEEEEE! TWOOOOOOO! Kickout!! Quickly Stryke pops up, but doesn't spot Maddix hitting the ropes beside him, leaping into the air and SMASHING him in the face with a leaping forearm! Stryke rolls off as Maddix spots Dangerous, tumbling behind with a sunset flip... ONEEEEEE! TWOOOOOOO! Kickout!! "Both Stryke and Maddix going after Dangerous, which is sound strategy, as Dangerous has been in almost since the beginning!" points out Pete. Johnny kicks out as Maddix rolls to his feet, charging at Johnny again. Stryke interjects himself in his path, but Maddix executes a running standing switch, looking for the SoDak again. Before he can drop though, Dangerous kicks Landon in the kidneys. Collapsing, Maddix retreats to a corner, while Dangerous wearily whips Stryke, looking for a spinning heel kick. Stryke ducks, booting Johnny as he turns and setting him up for a Fisherman's Suplex...maybe even the Fisherman's Neckbreaker. However, Maddix suddenly charges. Stryke throws Johnny off, catching Maddix coming in a sleeper... *CHING!* "Lowblow by Maddix!" *CHING!* "LOWBLOW BY JOHNNY!" Both Maddix and Stryke clutch their testiclé as Johnny is able to pick his spots. A dropkick for Stryke. Dropkick for Maddix. Backfist to Stryke. Waistlock...belly to belly, overhead, by Dangerous to Maddix! But suddenly, Johnny hits the wall, exhaustion causing him to stop for breath. Behind him, Stryke is up, bringing his knee around into Johnny's gut...but before he goes for Johnny, he grabs Maddix and tosses him over the top rope. Even though he doesn't have to anymore, Maddix grabs the top rope, landing on the apron. Stryke meanwhile boots Johnny, before applying the pumphandle. "Stryke is looking for that Low End Theory, the pumphandle piledriver!" calls King. "If he hits this, then it'll be over!" Johnny looks trapped as Stryke hooks the arm and lifts Dangerous. But suddenly, La Cucaracha springs into life, springs off the top rope...and wipes out Stryke with a springboard clothesline!! Away bounces Stryke, as Maddix pulls himself up...to be confronted by old nemesis, Johnny Dangerous! "Wow!" gasps Pete. "Why does everything has to be so showy with this kid?" "And would you look at this stand off? Dangerous. Maddix. These two men had a memorable battle back at Ground Zero for the ICTV Title. But THIS, this is SO much more important King!" Dangerous and Maddix stare each other down, dueling chants going up as the two suddenly launch into action, exchanging right hands for forearm in the centre of the ring! Dangerous. Maddix. Dangerous. Maddix. ... Maddix. ... Maddix. Maddix. Maddix! Dangerous is fatigued and takes a forearm flurry, before Maddix hits the ropes. Johnny ducks a clothesline, hooking Maddix on the way around for The Interrogator! Maddix rolls through though, escaping Johnny's tired grip and scrambling to his feet. But suddenly, Stryke is up, MOWING down both with clotheslines! Johnny stays down, but Landon is able to get back up, Stryke booting him and pulling the ICTVUSJL Champ into a standing headscissors. Boos are already vehement, as Stryke lifts Maddix for a piledriver. But he pauses, which allows Johnny to pull himself up, turn back to back with Stryke... *WHAM!* ...hitting a hangman's neckbreaker... *WHAM!* ...WHICH COMPLETES STRYKE'S PILEDRIVER FOR HIM!!! "Double impact! Maddix and Stryke are down, this is Johnny's chance!" Stryke holds his neck as Johnny glances from body to body, deciding Stryke is the fresher man and trying his luck with Maddix and a cover... ONEEEEEE! TWOOOOOOO! THRE-NOOOOOOO!!!!! Some of the crowd groan, some cheer...split between Dangerous and Maddix. Dangerous meanwhile pops to his feet, cradling Stryke to the mat... ONEEEEEE! TWOOOOOOO! Kickout!! Johnny has to curse his luck as he struggles up, encouraging either man up. Stryke is up first and Dangerous meets him, nails a boot, MI SLAAAA...NO! Stryke escapes out the back, applying a waistlock. Johnny with the standing switch, Stryke with the standing switch...Johnny with an elbow, and another standing switch. Without the energy for a german, Johnny decides to push Stryke into the ropes and look for a roll-up, sitting down across Stryke's legs with the pin... *SMACK!* ...but he takes Sweet Chin Music, allowing Stryke to pull Johnny into his own pinning hold... ONEEEE... *SMACK!* ...only for STRYKE to recieve Sweet Cuca Music! He falls to the mat, Johnny still KOed too, while Maddix dives on top of the Australian with From The Fire in his sights... ONEEEEEE! TWOOOOOOO! THREEEE-NOOOOOOO!!!!! Despair hits Maddix at 100mph, collapsing to his seat, hands over his head. "So very, VERY close!" sighs the drained Longdogger. Maddix pulls himself up though, not giving up, knowing he has the intitative. Quickly he grabs Johnny and drags him to his feet, summoning the strength to gutwrench Johnny and rotate him up...for a Tombstone!?! Dangerous leans back though, Maddix unable to hold his weight. Picking up Maddix, Johnny has him in tombstone position now. But decides against it, somehow muscling Maddix onto his shoulder, before dropping him, snake-eyes across the top turnbuckle!! "OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH!" Hearing the pattering of not so tiny feet, Johnny instinctively dives out of the way with the agility of a Secret Agent, causing Stryke to charge into Maddix in the corner! Maddix slumps as Stryke stumbles out, looking for Johnny, and walking straight into a drop-toe-hold. Stryke's head bounces violently, as Johnny rolls on top of Stryke, grabs the leg...AND APPLIES THE BARRACUDA!!! "THE BARRACUDA! SUBMISSION HOLD APPLIED!" "Well, it's better than Maddix I guess... Stryke is trapped, Hardcastle diving to see if he's had enough. His career isn't on the line. But Stryke knows the prize at stake is closer than it's EVER been and clings on, trying to crawl to the ropes. Johnny meanwhile sits in, wrenching away. "TAPTAPTAPTAPTAP!" Stryke starts to crawl... ...but Johnny's bodyweight is too much and he stops short, clenching his fists, trying to prevent himself from tapping... ...another wrench though, and Stryke's hand hovers... ...he's seconds away from calling it quits... *SMACK!* "SHINING WIZAAAAAARD~!" erupts Pete. Johnny takes the Wizard flush in the jaw and rolls across the ring, almost out to the floor. Meanwhile, Maddix rolls to his knees. He knows Dangerous is out. But rather than go for a pin, he crawls over to Stryke, who is still hurting from the Barracuda... ...AND WRAPS ON THE LAND OF NOD!!! "NO!" is King's cry. "Get up Dangerous!" "TAPTAPTAPTAPTAP!" The chant is instant. *TAPTAPTAP* "YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" AND THE TAP IS NOT FAR BEHIND!!! "HE GAVE IT UP!" cries Pete over the exploding Washington crowd, who are going nuts! "STRYKE TAPPED! LANDON MADDIX... IS GOIN' TO FROM... THE... FIRE!!!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Stryke ENTERED: 18th LEFT: 18th ELIMINATED: Sean Davis ELIMINATED BY: Landon Maddix ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ King is silent, but he's about the only person in the arena who is, as Maddix releases the hold and clenching his fists to his face in ecstacy! Running down the rampway, Megan Skye scrambles into the ring and embraces her man, as Dangerous is just about coming to, and releasing what's just happened... “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,” Funyon booms, “THE WINNER OF THE TWO THOUSAND AND FIVE CLUUUUUSSSSSTERFUCK... LAAAAAANNDDOOOOOOOOONN "LA CUCARACHAAAAAAA!!" MMMMMAAAAAAAADDDIIIIIIIIIIIXXXXXXXXX!!!!!!!!!” As the crowd go wild, Johnny Dangerous looks up and sees Maddix's celebrations beginning, deciding to vacate the ring. Dejectedly he leaves, helped by a couple of referees, the crowd around him applauding his efforts as he goes. "What a heartbreaker for Johnny, entering at number three and being pipped at the last, like so many others in year's past." sighs Pete. "And like Craven, Annie, Van Siclen and those before him, he'll...uhm...fade into obscurity?" "Don't bet on it." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Johnny Dangerous ENTERED: 3rd LEFT: N/A ELIMINATED: Dominic Korgath, Sean Davis ELIMINATED BY: N/A ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As Johnny leaves, Maddix is helped to his feet by Megan and Hardcastle, his arm raised in the air as the traditional Clusterfuck confetti™ rains from the ceiling. "Finally, the fans have a Clusterfuck champion to cheer for, after two years of disappointment!" cheers the delighted Pete. "Landon Maddix has won the Clusterfuck and now, it's on to From The Fire! And you know what that means." "Depressingly low buyrates?" "No! It means we're either going to see Landon Maddix vs. Mak Francis, first time EVER... or, we're going to see the Maddix/Sacred rematch! And we'll find out which in just a few moments folks, so stay tuned..." "...yeah, no matter how much you hate this result." As Maddix and Megan continue celebrating and the ringside area becomes a sea of confetti, Maddix looks around with a beaming smile on his face, as he looks around the ring...his smile minimising slightly, as he realises there's no Cortez and no Clark to join in his celebration. But not for long. After all... ...HE'S GOIN' TO FROM THE FIRE, BABY!! (credit Grappler)

"It's that time, once again...it's Clusterfuckin' time!" The cries of Longdogger Pete accompany a large roar from the crowd in the nation's capital, as the logo appears on the screen, informing everyone that the Clusterfuck is next, with 16 determined faces hovering over the Clusterfuck logo...accompanied by four, mysterious question marks. In the meantime, the hard camera pans the crowd, picking out some of signs that made it past the strict SWF security staff (Mr Bukkake and J.T Playa), including... "VIVA LA REVOLUTION (EXCEPT SPIKE)" "19 MEN, ONE COCKROACH!" "SPOILER: NUMBER FIFTEEN WINS!" ...and of course... "I'D RATHER BE AT ANGLEPALOOZA!" "Yes, the SWF tradition continues as tonight, twenty more superstars will do battle over a World Title shot at From The Fire. And also, the one time of year we can drop as many f-bombs as we Fuckin' like!" "How crass." "As you can see, we've got a confirmed entry-list of sixteen. Amongst those confirmed; Martial Law, two of Revolution Zero, Wild and Dangerous, The Royal Order. And then, of course, we have four unnamed entrants which could really shake up an already wide-open field." "...are you wearing wrestling gear Pete?" "No." "...you are, aren't you? What number did you draw?" "...can we go up to Funyon or something? Please?" *DING DING* "Ladies and gentlemen, it is NOW time...FOR THE 2005 CLUSTERFUCK...MATCH!" booms Funyon, drawing a pop from the crowd. "Here are the rules..." A graphic with the rules pops up on the SmarkTron...only to disappear as quickly as it had arrived, leaving the crowd confused. "...uhm, okay...and now, let us all found out, who drew...number ONE!" ATTENTION! ALL YOU NIGGAZ! "Woah! It's DubCee!" Pete cries as Redman's "Let's Get Dirty" brings the crowd to their feet. ALL YOU BITCHES! TIME TO PUT DOWN THE CRISTAL, TIME TO TAKE OFF THE ICE FOR A MINUTE… TIME TO THROW A LITTLE MUD IN THIS MOTHERFUCKA… The Bahama Bomber emerges through the curtains and stops, scanning the crowd momentarily before he takes a last deep breath and sets off towards the squared circle. "From The Bahamas...one half of the SWF World Tag Team Champions... this is... WIIIIIILLLDDCCCHHHIIIIILLLDD!!!" Sliding into the ring, Wildchild leaps to his feet and passes his Tag Title gold to the sidelines. Already, all eyes are turned towards the entrance, awaiting #2, Wildchild's amongst them as he begins to do some last-minute warm-ups. And the Bahama native's eyebrows rise ever so slightly as Alan Clark's mug appears on the SmarkTron the opening to Incubus' "Pardon Me" hits. "And what a showdown this'll be!" Pete cries. "Two former Cruiserweight Champions, both fan favourites, kicking it off this year!" "Oh. Joy." "Pardon me while I burst..." *BOOOOOM!* As he emerges through the smoke, Alan Clark is greated by cheers from the fans, the crowd split pretty much down the middle in support. "And, the man who drew number TWO! From Long Beach, California... AAAAAAALLLAAAANNN CLLLLAAAAAAARRRRRRRRKK!!!" Intro over, Clark suddenly steps on the gas and sprints down the aisle, which causes Wildchild to cease his warm-ups to await Clark, jumping him as he slides in with stomps. *DING DING DING* "We're underway, and at full speed!" Pete proclaims. Wildchild continues throwing stomp after stomp at Clark as he scrambles to his feet under the barrage, managing to catch Wildchild with a knee. Time bought, Clark clubs Wildchild across the shoulder blades once...twice, before tossing him to the corner. Clark follows in with another knee, then a kick, both to the abdomen. The Bahama Bomber is now the one under siege as Alan follows up with three more, rapid fire kicks, before whipping him across towards the opposite buckles. But Wildchild manages to vault onto the top turnbuckle before he crashes into it, tumbling instantly backwards and moonsaulting over the charging Martial. Putting the brakes on, Clark twirls away from the corner, Wildchild already shuffling a sidekick Clark's way... ...but Alan ducks, waiting for Wildchild to turn, before... ...whiffing a kick of his own. Wildchild quickly sprints to the ropes and as Clark gains his bearings, Wildchild knocks them away with a Pinball! "Patented Wildchild." King points out. Away bounces Clark, scrambling back up in the corner, as Wildchild lines him up. As Alan gets up, Wildchild charges, spinning and splashing Clark into the buckles with the Blue Crush. Clark is staggered by the move, wandering aimlessly from the corner, allowing Wildchild to sprint off the ropes and dive at Clark, dropkicking him over the top....only for Clark to hook the top rope, swinging himself back to safety!! Clark is back in before Wildchild can get to him. So the Tag Champion simply starts to stomp again, keeping Clark underneath the bottom rope. "Our first near elimination of the 'Fuck, King." "Yeah. Clark nearly gave a worse performance this year than he did last." sneers King. "If that's at all possible." The split crowd are buzzing from the hectic opening exchange, as Wildchild helps Clark up. Wildchild whips Clark, catching him returning with a boot, before looking for the Carribean Cutte...Clark thrusts upwards to counter, flipping Wildchild. The agile Carribean lands on his feet, looking for another whip. Clark counters again, pulling Wildchild into a knee to the gut, before gutwrenching him and lifting. Wildchild is able to spin out expertly to his feet and hit the ropes, but Clark boots Wildchild upon his return. *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOO!" Before lashing his chest with a knifedge. *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOO!" ...and a second. Wildchild is rocked, so Clark boots and re-tries, this time getting the gutwrench and flipping Wildchild into a Gutwrench Railbreaker! Looking up, Clark spies the Clusterfuck Timer™ winding down. And with time until #3 diminishing, Clark quickly hoists Wildchild and drags him towards the ropes. Up goes a leg and instantly, Wildchild clutches the middle rope as his other leg is lifted. "TEN!" "NINE!" "Here we go, we're counting down to number three!" "EIGHT!" "SEVEN!" "SIX!" "FIVE!" "FOUR!" "Wildchild, hanging on..." "THREE!" "TWO!" "ONE!" With Wildchild teetering, Clark turns his head to the stage... *BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!* "Johnny Dangerous!" "Now THIS is interesting!" Clark's eyes bulge out of their sockets as “After The Flesh” by My Life With The Thrill Kill Cult begins to thump through the P.A system and Johnny Dangerous charges through the curtains. "From Las Vegas, Nevada..." booms Funyon. "JOHHHNNYYYYY DAAAANNGGEERRRROOUUSSSS!!!" Quickly Clark upps his efforts and tries to get Wildchild up and out while he still has the chance. But Dangerous slides into the ring and goes full speed ahead, charging at Clark and pulling him off Wildchild. Johnny then pops off some right hands, staggering Clark, while Wildchild is getting back up. A knifedge to the throat sends Clark reeling off to the side, into a backhand fist from Wildchild, sending Alan stumbling back to Johnny... *SMACK!* ...and his Johnny Kick! "Wild and Dangerous benefitting from the luck of the draw, with numbers SO close." Pete comments. "I wouldn't want to be in Clark's shoes." "Neither would I. Especially now." "Indeed. Alone with the Tag Team Champions. Alan had better hope #4 is a Martial Law member." "If he lasts that long." The SWF's premiere tag team pull Clark to his feet and send him to the ropes, hooking him by his arms and hitting for a double hiptoss. Both Tag Champs roll straight to their feet and with Clark down, the two exchange a knowing look, glad to have the advantage of strength in numbers. Alan drags himself up, Johnny going right to him. A trip from Johnny alerts Wildchild, waiting as Dangerous slingshots Clark up... …and Wildchild plucks him out of the air with a dropkick!! "That's great." sighs King. "Now dump Clark and start fighting each other!" "King!" "Come on Pete, that's what everyone wants to see!" But Johnny and Wildchild instead give each other a nod, before Wildchild hits the ropes, Johnny back-dropping him on return, sending his partner plummeting across Clark's sternum with a senton! Wildchild rolls off of Clark, as Johnny hits the ropes himself, Wildchild returning the favour, backdropping Johnny onto Clark! "Again, Wild and Dangerous, able to work together." Pete makes clear again. "If they can eliminate Clark within the next entrance and continue on from there, no one man in this 'Fuck can stand up to them." The crowd pop, solidly behind W&D, as Johnny salutes them, able to trust Wildchild enough to turn his back to him. Wildchild meanwhile grabs Clark and starts to pull him up, allowing Johnny to do the rest of the work for him while he backs to the corner. The winded Martial Law member is defenseless as Johnny hurls him across the ring. Clark hits the buckles as Dangerous follows in, clotheslining Clark in the corner before motioning for Wildchild. Quick as a flash, he charges in, spinning and... ...MISSING the Blue Crush, hitting the turnbuckles sternum first! "OOOOOOOHHHHHHH!" Wildchild staggers out and quickly Clark tries to bundle him out! Johnny reacts almost as quickly though and drags Clark off of his long-time partner, pulling him away to the opposite corner, as Wildchild slumps breathlessly to his knees. Clark and Johnny exchange right hands as they go, reaching the corner with Alan pressed against the turnbuckles. *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOO!" Alan nails a chop. *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOO!" But Johnny hits one back... *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOO!" ...and a second, before grabbing Alan's right leg and attempting an elimination. Clark is quick to grab the ropes, prepared to fight to stay in the match, despite Johnny getting under him and pushing up. Alan starts to club down on Johnny, keeping a nervous eye on the recovering Wildchild in the meantime... "TEN!" "NINE!" The crowd count along, Alan's attention now flashing from Johnny, to Wildchild, to the entrance way. "EIGHT!" "SEVEN!" "SIX!" "FIVE!" Suddenly, Clark takes a risk and lifts his standing leg, slamming it down across the back of Dangerous' head. The risk pays off as the former World Champion backs off with a clutch of his temple, allowing Clark to re-aquaint his feet with the canvas. "FOUR!" "THREE!" "TWO!" "ONE!" *BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!* Mastodon's "Crusher Destroyer" blasts through the speakers to a mixed reaction, heralding the arrival of entrant number four. "From Denver, Colorado... this is... MAAAAANNSSSOOOOOOOONNN!!!" The former USJL Champion jogs down the rampway, watching as Clark is now unloading right hands on Johnny Dangerous in the corner. But as he slides in, Manson charges Wildchild. Manson goes to work with strike after strike, just POUNDING the Bahama Bomber in the corner...whilst across the ring, Johnny is beginning to fight back on Clark. Coming out of the corner, swinging with intent, Johnny has Clark backed up almost in the ring's centre, before he charges and clotheslines Alan down! "Well, the entrance of Manson has split Wild and Dangerous up, at least for now." Pete points out. "True. And if Manson and Clark can keep them seperate, they stand a chance. But if they try to go team for team with them, then they're both screwed regardless." Johnny now sees Wildchild in trouble and goes over, kneeing Manson in the kidneys before turning him around. But, Manson is fresh and shakes it off, turning around and Lariating Johnny down! Straight away, Wildchild grabs Manson and looks for some retribution, only to recieve a mule kick to the gut. Manson hooks on a front facelock and lifts Wildchild, spinning towards the centre of the ring and sitting out, driving Wildchild face-first with the War Ensemble! Wildchild bounces off the mat, Johnny is still down, leaving Manson and Clark standing. The latter of the two looks relieved to have some assistance finally. But, he isn't relieved for long, as Manson charges him... *SMACK!* ...KOing Clark with a YAKUZAAAAAAAA~! Kick! "Well, so much for that." King quips. With all three opponents down, Manson has his pick. He decides to stomp on Johnny first, only to then stomp Wildchild. "Just like last year, Manson has come in early and made a BIG impact!" cries Pete. "Yeah, but remember last year, Manson was the first man eliminated. He has to do more than just Manson SMASH! here." Clark staggers up, instantly getting hooked and hurled by Manson, over the top… ...AND TO THE APRON! "Woah!" "Clark is close..." Clark desperately grabs the middle rope to avoid falling any further, while Manson goes after Johnny Dangerous with stomps. That allows Clark to pull himself up on the apron...before heading up top. Nearby, Manson drags Johnny away. So, Clark has no choice, but to aim for the face-down Wildchild. Reaching the top, Alan leaps off instantly, driving ALL his body-weight into Wildchild's ribs with a BRUTAL back senton, driving the wind out of the Human Hurricane!! But Clark is unable to pop up and take advantage. Which allows Manson to take advantage, by booting the seated Clark in the jaw! "Manson, back in control!" Pete again sings the praises of Manson. "And, we're not too far away from a fifth entrant here." Manson turns back to Dangerous now, pulling himself up in the corner, dazed. With a roar, Manson charges at The Barracuda, running head-long into a raised boot from the super-spy extraordinaire. "TEN!" "NINE!" "EIGHT!" "SEVEN!" With Manson wobbled, Dangerous hops to the middle rope and waits for the quivering frame in front of him to settle... "SIX!" "FIVE!" ...before diving off the ropes, sending Manson sprawling backwards with a missle dropkick! "FOUR!" "THREE!" "TWO!" "ONE!" *BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!* “Tearing Everybody Down” by Anti-Flag kicks into gear, causing the entire crowd to kick into apathy mode. "From Newark, New Jersey... RRRRAAAZZZOOO... uhm, sorry... DAAAANNYYYYYY DAAAAGGGGDDAAAAA!" "Man, here comes a red-hot stud of a sex bomb!" drools King. "Quiet Bobbo." sneers Cyclone...Pete. As Dangerous goes back to work on Manson with little concern for the set-to-enter Dagda, Dagda makes a point to piss off as many people as possible on his way down, grabbing one fan's "CLARK MARK" sign and tear it up before flipping another's cap off into the third row. By the time Dagda finally reaches the ring and slides 'seductively' into the ring, Alan Clark is up. And waiting with a clothesli... ...NO! Dagda lasts longer than the predicted two seconds, ducking Clark's clothesline and scrambling away from the ropes. Quickly Clark charges in again but Dagda snaps his arms and throws him with a Head And Arm Suplex! As Clark bounces away, Wildchild is up, stumbling over and EATING a Superkick! "Okay, now, this I didn't expect." admits a surprise Longdogger. "Why not? Dagda is HAWT~!" With two down, Dagda quickly makes it three, spiking Dangerous as he turns around with an impressive standing spinebuster which bounced The Secret Agent's head off the canvas. Manson now charges over, but his momentum is stopped with a boot...and a Powerbomb! "BOOOOOO!" Dagda has run through the four men in the ring and finally, some of the fans react. Leaping to the middle rope, Danny flashes a smug smile and raises his arms in the air as a few fans leap up and hurl some abuse, so Dagda informs them that he is infact their biological father. Moments before Alan Clark tips him over the top and to the floor. "YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!" "Well, that turned into a big pile of wank, huh?" sighs King. "And THERE is the first elimination of this year's Fuck!" a relieved Pete cheers. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Danny Dagda ENTERED: 5th LEFT: 1st ELIMINATED: Nobody ELIMINATED BY: Alan Clark LEFT IN RING: Wildchild, Alan Clark, Johnny Dangerous, Manson ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Peering over the top, Clark waves bye-bye to Dagda before turning back to the matter at hand. Wildchild is first to meet him, the two cruiserweights exchanging some heavyweight punches as their conflict ends up in the corner. Meanwhile, Dangerous is back up, holding the back of his head in discomfort as he drags Manson to his feet, before trying to lift him up and over the top! "And Manson might be about to join Danny Dagda in the showers!" calls Pete, pointing to the ring. "NOW who's Bobby Riley?" Manson applies a front facelock on the top turnbuckle to help preserve his Clusterfuck chances, Johnny not giving up though. As that goes on, Clark finds himself pulled to the middle of the ropes and whipped across the ring by Wildchild. Clark comes back with his bearings, grabbing Wildchild's right arm and managing to twist and swing The Bahama Bomber off to the ropes. But Wildchild is too quick for Clark's reactions, able to catch him with a leg lariat on the way back! As Alan bounces away clutching his jaw, Wildchild begins to follow. But suddenly, he gets the call from Johnny, so rushes after and starts to help push Manson over the top! "This doesn't look good for Manson." Pete observes. "The Tag Champions have him up..." "But Manson looks to have a good grip on the turnbuckle there Pete, so if he does go up and over, he should be okay." Manson needn't worry though as after a few more seconds of struggling, he's saved by Alan Clark, pulling first Wildchild and then Dangerous off and into right hands. Safely landing on the apron, Manson rolls back in, while Clark charges at Wild and Dangerous, who duck a double clothesline... *SMACK!* ...and connect with a Super Chicklet Buster! But as they plant their feet back on the mat, they're instantly knocked back off them, courtesy of a double Manson clothesline! "Now, you have to question that move; Alan Clark could have helped eliminate Manson then." "And would have left himself alone with Dub and Dee again." King rebuts. "Ah, true." "Although, not for long..." ..."SEVEN!" "SIX!" "FIVE!" "Because number six is imminent!" "FOUR!" "THREE!" "TWO!" "ONE!" *BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!* No thunder, no storm...but "F.E." by 40 Below Summer does hit, to a rumbling of boos from the Washington faithful, as the first Revolution Zero representative makes his entrance! "From Jacksonville, Florida... 'THE PERFECT STORM'! SSSSEEEEEEEAAAANN DDAAAAAVVVIIIIIISSSS!!!" "And business has well and truly picked up!" King confidently predicts, as Manson beckons on The Perfect Storm. "This is 6'5", 275 of pure bad-ass entering the ring!" Manson is the only man standing as Davis climbs confidently up the steps and enters the ring, Manson jumping him from the get-go! Furiously Manson clubs away on Davis with punch, after punch, after punch, backing Davis against the turnbuckles before he finally shoves Manson off. Manson rolls through as he hits the mat, to his feet. And instantly, Manson charges in again, only for Davis to simply bounce him off with a shoulder block! That's enough for Manson to back off wearily, allowing Wildchild to charge... *OOOF!* *WHAM!* ...AND GET TAKEN HALFWAY ACROSS THE DAMN RING WITH A RUNNING FOOTBALL TACKLE!!! "RAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" Davis howls in intensity as he steps off of Wildchild's jelly-like body, catching Manson charging at him out of the corner of his eye and connecting with a back elbow. Staggering back, Manson is lost momentarily as he stumbles around, getting hooked under the arm...AND GETTING HIPBLOCKED TO THE FLOOR BY DAVIS! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Manson ENTERED: 4th LEFT: 2nd ELIMINATED: Nobody ELIMINATED BY: Sean Davis LEFT IN RING: Wildchild, Alan Clark, Johnny Dangerous, Sean Davis ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Manson! Gone!" cries a shocked Pete. "And it was almost effortless!" "The tide has turned Pete. Sean Davis may be the one man to stand up to Wild and Dangerous single-handedly!" comes King's glowing agreement. As Manson looks up from his seat on the floor with his eyes wide-open in surprise, Davis bends down and grabs Wildchild by his dreadlocks. But before he can pull him up, Dangerous charges over and boots Davis in the jaw! Again! A third time! Fourth! Davis goes down finally as Johnny continues the onslaught, not letting up on the stomps. And he's quickly joined by a slightly weary Alan Clark, the two teaming up on Davis without so much of a word of alliance, both understanding Davis has to be halted. Together, Dangerous and Clark drag the bigman to his feet and manage to send him across the ring with a whip, both setting up for back elbows... ...but Davis ducks them both, stopping abruptly as now Clark and Johnny rush the ropes. But, The Perfect Storm turns straight into two flying clotheslines, the combined effort knocking him down! "YEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" "Johnny and Clark, putting their issues in this 'Fuck aside to go after Davis. This is how it's got to be...Davis is just too much of a threat." Pete claims. Indeed he is, as the bigman simply pops back up and CRUSHES Johnny and Clark with a double clothesline of his own. Clark flops on the mat, as Davis meanwhile turns back to Johnny, heaving him off the canvas. A quick goozle and Johnny's set for a Chokeslam. But he manages to surprise Davis with a boot to the gut, before slipping behind and attempting the MI Slam..but failing to lift the 275 pounder! Johnny tweaks his back in the process, releasing Davis to tend to it. Allowing Davis to grab Johnny and headbutt him, with such force that Johnny is almost taken clear off his feet. "My god, Sean Davis is dominating...and...look at this..." The only other man up now is Alan Clark, so Davis walks over to him and goozles the Martial Law representative. There's no counter from Clark, as he's lifted... up..... and hovered over the ropes...... BEFORE BEING SENT TO PLUMMET TO THE FLOOR BELOW!!!! "...Chokeslam, to the FLOOR!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Alan Clark ENTERED: 2nd LEFT: 3rd ELIMINATED: Danny Dagda ELIMINATED BY: Sean Davis LEFT IN RING: Wildchild, Johnny Dangerous, Sean Davis ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Luckily for Alan, the execution of the move means he lands feet first on the floor...but the drop causes his legs to crumple beneath him, causing immediate concern from referee Sexton Hardcastle. But none at all from Sean Davis. "Sean Davis has cut through two men in less than two minutes!" says Pete in awe. "And more importantly, he's eliminated a Martial Law member. Toxxic has got to be doing somersaults backstage right now!" As Clark is signalled as okay, referees help him up. Meanwhile, Davis turns in search of another victim. The unlucky man is Wildchild as he stumbles over clutching his ribs and walks into a boot, before getting lifted effortlessly up by Sean, into a Canadian Backbreaker position! The crowd know what's coming and scream for Johnny to help. But he's still dazed from the headbutt. Allowing Davis the time to turn around, picking his side...before dropping to his knees, dropping Wildchild on his head!!! "TEN!" "NINE!" "CYCLONE DRIVER!" screams King, gleefully. "EIGHT!" "SEVEN!" "SIX!" "FIVE!" "FOUR!" "Wildchild would be easy pickings here." mumbles Pete uncomfortably. "But luckily, the Clusterfuck Timer™ has wound us down towards number seven." "THREE!" "TWO!" "ONE!" *BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!* The crowd erupt as Fabolous' "Breathe" heralds the arrival of the second of three Martial Law members, and another first time Fucker! "From Hollywood Boulevard!" bellows Funyon. "'THE URBAN LEGEND'... TOOOOOOODDD CCOOOOOOORRRRRRTTEEEEEZZZZZZ!!!" Showing no fear, Cortez jogs down the rampway, getting a pat on the back from his departing ally Alan Clark on the way, before picking up speed and darting into the fray! Meeting him on the slide, Davis pounds down some clubbing forearms on Cortez. But Cortez withstands the battering and pulls himself up, before firing back with right hands of his own!! "It's Martial Law! It's Revolution Zero! And it's DAMN sure personal now King!!" For a moment, it looks like Davis is rocked. But that moments leads into the next, as Davis drives his knee into Cortez's gut before pushing him back, buying himself time to gain his bearings. Only for Cortez to bounce off the ropes, rebounding and cracking Davis between the eyes with a spinning heel kick! DOWN goes Davis, as Cortez leaps to his feet and FIRES UP~! Quickly back up, Davis is fuming, stalking Cortez like Godzilla with a case of the human munchies...but rather than eat Cortez, he simply eats his right palm! Staggering back, Sean finds himself against the ropes..and finds his legs being lifted from underneath him!! "Cortez is going for it!" Pete gasps in surprise. "This may be a bad idea." replies King. "Cortez doesn't have much help or enough strength to rid us of Davis." Cortez gets one leg up and comes to an abrupt stop. Any help is absent meanwhile as Johnny is trying to tend to Wildchild, who is still laid out in the corner, clutching his neck now. So Cortez has to try and lift the second leg alone. A right hand from Davis grazes his head. Before a second almost grazes his head off his shoulders, sending Cortez flying backwards. Quickly Davis pulls himself off the ropes and charges at Cortez, only just able to duck underneath a discus clothesline attempt from the desperate Urban Legend. Davis quickly puts the brakes on, grabs Cortez from behind in a full nelson, before hoisting him up from his feet and drops him down with a Full Nelson Atomic Drop!! "We're at the fifteen minute mark in this match and so far, nobody has been holding back." recaps Pete. "Which may or may not cost them in the long run. As you can see, Wildchild is hurt. Dangerous is looking pretty fatigued. And now, Cortez is going hell for leather with Davis..." "And commiting Clusterfuck Suicide™ in the process." With Cortez holding his ass, Davis turns his attentions back to the Tag Champions and with his partner still recovering, it's left to Dangerous to go after Davis. He charges, but Davis ducks his head and drives Johnny to the canvas with a Samoan Drop. And now, Davis is left with Wildchild in his sights. "WILD - CHILD! WILD - CHILD! WILD - CHILD!" Chants go up encouraging on the Carribean Cruiserweight, bringing a sneer to Sean Davis' face as he drags the limp Wildchild up...and casually tosses him over the top... ...but Wildchild manages to hang onto the top rope! Davis realises Wildchild isn't gone from the cheers that follow and he turns back around impatiently, forearm cocked. But Wildchild beats him to the punch! Two more rock Davis back, allowing Wildchild to springboard to the top, leaping towards Davis, hooking his head and whipping him around with a DDT, all in LIGHTNING quick succession! "YEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" Davis' head bounces off the mat, both he and Wildchild remaining down from the move. "Presumed Guilty! A big risk taken by the ultimate risktaker, Wildchild! But...I think it paid off." Pete thinks aloud. "I think his surgeon may disagree with you when DubCee gets out of this one. His neck is HURTING, and bad." As Wildchild proves King's point by grabbing his neck, Cortez has gotten back to his feet. He charges the ropes, his aching ass causing him to resemble a colonic irrigation patient as he springs off the middle, landing a Quebrada on Davis..AND Wildchild, his feet hitting the latter square in the head!! Groans from the fans die down quickly though, as they spy the spy climbing up top, Davis in his sights as he springs off...connecting with a simple, but effective splash from the top! "Now the strategy is coming into effect, everyone ganging up on Daviiiii...WAIT!" Pete's girlish cry comes as Cortez suddenly grabs Johnny as he gets up, hooking him around the head and lobbing him up and over the top rope. But as Johnny hangs onto the ropes and skins the cat to re-enter the ring, the shock subsides. And gives way to anger, from Johnny, as he whips Cortez around and shoves him in the chest! *SLAP!* And recieve some bitchslappage~ in return! "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH!!" Cortez and Johnny are about to explode, like Mega Powers or something. That is, until Sean Davis pops up, goozles them and sends them for a DOUBLE Chokeslam ride straight to the depths of hell!!!! "WHERE DID DAVIS COME FROM!?!" cries Pete. "Straight outta nowhere baby!" Davis is again the only man left standing, feeling more pain than the last time he was, for certain. Looking up at the Tron, Davis spies the clock. Fifteen seconds remain until number eight. So Davis quickly turns and drops a legdrop to Wildchild's head, making sure he stays down... "TEN!" "NINE!" While the Clusterfuck Timer™ winds down. "EIGHT!" "SEVEN!" "SIX!" "I hope for your sake this isn't your number Pete." "FIVE!" "I told you, I'm NOT in this!!" "FOUR!" "Whatever..." "THREE!" "TWO!" "ONE!" "Here comes the next victim..." chuckles King. *BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!* ...if only he knew. For a moment, there's nothing. But before anyone can suspect a no-show, Metallica's "Some Kind Of Monster" hits and the crowd EXPLODES! "Oh... my..." "This is no victim King!!" "No... way!" "THIS... is the reigning SWF Clusterfuck WINNER!" "Not him!" "THIS... is the former SWF World Heavyweight CHAMPION!" "Not... HIM!" "THIS... IS THE GRAPPLER!!" Washington D.C continues to go nuts before the curtains even so much as ripple. So when they do and The Grappler himself emerges through the entrance way, the crowd pops like oh, so many cherries! "YEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!" "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the DEFENDING Clusterfuck Champion... CCHHHHAAARRRRRRRLLIIIEEEEE!! GRRRRAAAPPPLLLLEEEERRRRRRRRR!! MMMAAAAAAATTTHHEEEEEEWWWWWSSSSS!!!" Through all the commotion, perhaps the only one person who isn't in shock is Sean Davis...taking this mightily well for the man awaiting The Grappler. Slowly, the number eight entrant strolls down the aisle, fans around him reaching out and touching that hairy-ass body of his, his eyes firmly fixed on Davis. "Well, now the hysteria has died down." sighs King. "Grappler did win the Clusterfuck last year. But he did it from number twenty. This year he's in at number eight, he's got a bad neck, a whole lot of ring rust." "You're not counting out Grappler are you?" "Hell no! I'm not that stupid Pete!" Reaching the ring, Grappler climbs onto the apron and abruptly the music stops, leaving just the cheering crowd to provide a backdrop for Grappler and Davis to go face to face. No fear, Davis glares at Grappler. Who simply glares back. The two monsters are now nose to nose and we're set for an explosion as everyone else remains down, no-one to get in the way. *BOOM!* Davis throws the first shot, nailing Grappler with a right! *BOOM!* But Grappler nails one straight back! *BOOM!* Davis! *BOOM!* Grappler! *BOOM!* DAVIS! *BOOM!* GRAPPLER! ... The sequence is broken, as Grappler ducks Davis' next swinging right hand and weaves behind The Perfect Storm, latching his arms around Davis' throat and applying a Sleeper Hold Of Impending DOOM~! Davis flails and fights, trying to escape, but Grappler suddenly pulls down, taking Davis to the mat and applying a body-scissors. "Rear-Naked Choke, applied by The Grappler!" cries King mockingly. "And in one fail swoop, Grappler kills the crowd." "Grappler seems to be of the 'if it isn't broke, don't fix it' mentality, as he's come into this year's Clusterfuck the same way he did last year. By trying to put biggest man in the ring to sleep." While this goes on, Todd Cortez is back up, looking across at Grappler choking out Davis...and says to hell with that, instead helping Johnny up and shoving him into the corner. Cortez lands some kicks, before lifting up the Secret Agent's right leg. Meanwhile, Wildchild is pulling himself up gingerly on the ropes, looking to help out Johnny. So Cortez gives up on Johnny, giving him a parting palm strike before lifting Wildchild up and ALMOST over! The awkward little cruiserweight hangs onto the top rope for dear life, Cortez leaning all his weight into the effort, until finally Johnny wobbles over and Shoteis Cortez in the back of the head. The blow almost topples Cortez over, Johnny able to react before Cortez can get off the top, as meanwhile Wildchild pulls himself safe. "Johnny almost eliminated Wildchild there." says a surprised Longdogger. "The Barracuda putting a lot of trust in his tag partner...but now, he has Cortez elevated!" As Cortez teeter-totters on the top, Johnny grabs his ankles and tries to tip him over. Cortez manages to kick him off though, before turning... *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOO!" ...and knifedging Johnny! *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOO!" ...who knifedges him back! *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOO!" *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOO!" Grappler glances up from his rear naked position and sees the chopfest in the progress, noteably sighing as he releases the comatose Davis. Cortez and Johnny don't see Grappler getting up... *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOO!" *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOO!" ...and continue chopping each other. Both have beat-red chests as Grappler strolls over, grabs both men by the head...AND APPLIES STEREO HEADLOCKS! "CALM DOWN DAMMIT!" Grappler screams down at the two, as he cranks up on the headlock. Some of the crowd laugh. The rest are fast asleep. Grappler clings onto the two despite a couple of fists to the gut, but he doesn't spot Wildchild leaping to the middle rope beside him, moonsaulting back and crashing over Grappler's shoulder! The collossal coma-inducer doesn't go down but he does release the headlock on Johnny, who quickly hits the ropes and Shoteis Grappler in his other shoulder. Grappler releases the headlock on Todd as a result, as meanwhile the Clusterfuck Timer™ is winding down. And so is Grappler dominance seemingly, as Wild and Dangerous swat him with a double dropkick, causing Grappler to fall into the ropes and to the mat. ..."FIVE!" "FOUR!" "THREE!" "TWO!" "ONE!" *BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!* Grave Digger's "Demon's Day" hits and the crowd groan...in a good way, honestly...as some more BEEF~ is set to be delivered to the Fuck. "From Nagasaki, Japan... DOOOOMMIIIIINNIIIIICC KKOOOOOOORRRRGGAAAAATTTTHHHH!!!" In the ring, Wild and Dangerous continue to batter the kneeling Grappler, whilst Cortez is now stomping on the still sleepy Sean Davis. Korgath meanwhile takes his sweet time over strolling down the aisle. "Another big man entering the 'Fuck!" exclaims Pete. "Possibly the BIGGEST man!" "I dunno, Grappler's pretty big too." "Well, duh!" "Uh-oh, Pete's getting tetchy. His number must be coming up soon." mumbles King to no-one in particular, to a growl from Pete. The two seperate battles continue as Korgath climbs up the steps slowly, eyeing up the competition as he enters. As he does, Wild and Dangerous have Grappler to his feet and both grab individual thighs, trying to lift last year's winner. They succeed in that but can get no further, so Johnny calls for help. For the greater good, Cortez abandons Davis and jogs over to help...and while Grappler finds him precariously placed, Korgath goes over to the Revolution Zero member in the corner. "Cortez has been doing battle with Wild and Dangerous on and off since entering, but now, he's over helping them, trying to eliminate Grappler." observes Pete. "This match breeds strange alliances sometimes." As Matthews finds himself fighting three and being slowly elevated towards elimination, Korgath has Davis up in the corner and is clubbering him with forearms. Backing up, Korgath charges and avalanches Davis in the corner! Davis groans as the air rushes out of his body, soon followed by more as Korgath avalanches him a second time! Rather than a third, Korgath instead pulls Davis out, the Revolution strongman's early flurry behind him now, as Korgath scoop slams Davis with scary ease! Staying down, The Perfect Storm is winded. The real action is across the ring though, where Cortez, Wildchild and Dangerous still have Grappler in trouble. Johnny still isn't happy though and calls over Korgath. The Big Demon glances curiously over, getting a more forceful request from Johnny to come help, so the bigman lumbers over. But rather than help, he swats Johnny across the face with his wrist! Korgath then backhands Cortez before grabbing Wildchild, knocking him away with a right hand. "Well, that was dumb." Pete lambasts. "Nobody ever accused Korgath of being the smartest wrestler." King responds. "And let's face it, Max King isn't out here to do Korgath's thinking for him." "Yet." It soon becomes clear just why Korgath did what he did though, as he looks the saved Grappler in the eyes...and tells him to bring it on!! "GRA - PULL - UH! GRA - PULL - UH! GRA - PULL - UH!" The crowd get behind the 2004 Clusterfuck winner as he smiles a wry smile, advancing on Korgath. Again, Grappler gets no fear from the 'newbie'...and just like with Davis, he gets no respect, as Korgath throws the first soupbone! Quickly the two men exchange right hands, clubbing away on each other as in the background, Sean Davis sneaks past and grabs Todd Cortez in a standing headscissors. Korgath and Matthews don't notice, still clubbing... *WHAM!* ...as Cortez crashes to the mat behind them. Still the fists fly, as Davis now has Johnny. It seems Grappler's getting the better of the exchange as the punches begin to decrease in tempo, Korgath's eventually peetering out... *WHAM!* ...while Grappler continues swinging. "What a stand-off here!" gasps Pete. "Yeah, but the really story is going on behind them! Davis has just stacked Johnny and Cortez with BRUTAL powerbombs and now, he's got Wildchild!" Finally Korgath has stopped now and Grappler fires off one more, before he goes to the gut with one. Korgath looks in need of the Shell answer man currently, as Grappler stops, before applying a Bearhu... ...NO! Matthews can't lock his hands, allows Korgath to smash his arms across Grappler's eardrums... ...and apply his OWN Bearhug on Grappler... *WHAM!* As in the background, Wildchild gets FOLDED up by a brutal Sean Davis powerbomb!! Having run through the scrawny little cruisers, Davis is ready to play with the big boys now, charging behind the bearhug and clubbing a clothesline across the shoulder blades of Korgath. He hangs on, as Davis repeats, this time breaking Korgath's grip on Grappler. At which point, Grappler charges and bundles Davis towards the ropes, trying to lift the 275 pounder over... "TEN!" "NINE!" "We're approaching the halfway mark; number TEN on the way!" "EIGHT!" "SEVEN!" "SIX!" "FIVE!" "FOUR!" Grappler can't get Davis out, as Korgath walks over and CLUBS him! "THREE!" "TWO!" "ONE!" The crowd rise, in anticipation... *BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!* ...clearly not expecting to hear the opening chords of “Godzilla” by Blue Oyster Cult!! The longtime fans EXPLODE, as the SmarkTron provides the answers for the rest of the crowd... STRANGLER *BOOOOOM!* "YOU WANNA TALK BIGMEN!?!" Pete cries, almost as disbelieving the stunned King. "WELL HERE COMES ONE OF THE BIGGEST AND BADDEST, OF AAAAAAALLL TIME!!!" The crowd are officially going nuts now as the 6'9" frame emerges through his departed pyro, fist raised in defiance. "From Boston, Massachussets... former World Heavyweight Champion... THE BOOSSSTOONN... STTRRRRRRRRRAAAAAANNNGGLLLEEEEERRRRRRRRR!!!" Looking mighty surprised, Grappler casts a glance towards the aisle to check if it's true, in between clubbing Korgath and Davis with alternate right hands. The glance allows them to come back though and double team Matthews, whilst Strangler walks down the aisle. "I know they said surprise entrants..." mumbles a beffudled King. "Bu..but...STRANGLER!?!" "And who could possibly eliminate him!?!" Strangler climbs to the apron and enters the ring, making it 7 in the ring, the most in the match thus far...and quickly, Strangler pulls Korgath off of the cornered Matthews, pulling him into a short arm clothesline! Even the 350 pounder can't stand up to that, as Strangler brings a double axehandle down across Davis' back. Strangler goes after Korgath again as Matthews punches Davis, the two men lined up against the ropes by the veterans. And the veterans nod to one another as they double-whip Davis and Korgath, Davis returning... *SMACK!* ...AND EATING STRANGLER'S BIG RIGHT BOOT... *OOOF!* ...while Grappler clotheslines Korgath's sternum into his body seconds later!! "The SWF old-timers, dishing some punishment out, old school style!" cheers King, sounding uncharacteristically gleeful. Of the seven men in, five are down. Only two are up; Strangler and Grappler. The two former World Champions stop and look at the other for about a second...before launching into action. Grappler tries to grapple Strangler to the mat, but Strangler manages to strangle Grappler back into the corner. As they tussle meanwhile, Korgath is pulling himself up, clutching his chest. Cortez is just about up now, but decided to rest up in the corner while he has the chance, as in the meantime Johnny Dangerous is recovering too. Davis is dazed. Wildchild? Well, he's hurting, having been in the ring over eighteen minutes and taken some big hits. "That fatigue factor's beginning to set in now King." points out Pete. "Wildchild and Johnny haven't been in the thick of the action exclusively, but it's been a punishing pace so far." "A good point Pete. I'm amazed." As Strangler and Grappler tussle in the corner, Dangerous takes a deep breath before charging into...Korgath's right arm! Down goes Dangerous, but Cortez suddenly sees Johnny's gamble and takes one of his own, catching Korgath with a single leg dropkick to the face. Or, well, mask. Same difference. Korgath is dazed, as Cortez follows up with a regular dropkick, while Johnny is recovering... ...causing Korgath to fall into the ropes, tying his arms up between the top and middle strands!! "Korgath's caught!" Quick as a flash, Johnny runs over and fires away right hand after right hand on the defenceless monster, Cortez doubling up with him! Johnny then grabs a leg, motioning for Cortez, who does the same, the pair trying to do what they couldn't do to Grappler and dump him out. Only problem is, Korgath's tied-up arms. To the side, Grappler tastes a Strangler short-arm clothesline and rolls beside the bottom rope, so Strangler comes over. But rather than help, Strangler tosses Cortez across the ring, before telling Johnny to 'let me handle this'. Which, Johnny wisely does. "And now, Strangler looks to get rid off some of the weight in that re-inforced ring!" cries Pete. "He may be the only man capable of eliminating Korgath alone, Pete. Unless of course, I dunno, Janus is a mystery entrant." Strangler unhooks Korgath's arms and hooks him around the thigh, beginning to lift the bigman...but recieving a large elbow across his neck. Korgath shoves off Strangler now, but the Boston native comes in again, this time catching a Korgath boot and looking to lift him over by it... *SMACK!* ...but suddenly, Sean Davis appears and returns the earlier favour, BOOTING Strangler in the face!! Down goes TBS, Davis stomping away on him. As meanwhile, Korgath pulls himself off the ropes... *SMACK!* ...only to taste a Johnny Kick! Korgath doesn't seem to enjoy the taste as he staggers back, the Clusterfuck Timer™ is winding down once more. "TEN!" "NINE!" "EIGHT!" "SEVEN!" "SIX!" ...Korgath takes another Johnny Kick from..Johnny, teetering dangerously by the ropes, but without the momentum to be taken fully over. Johnny meanwhile scans the ring, finding the grimacing Wildchild and calling him over hurriedly. "FIVE!" "FOUR!" "THREE!" "TWO!" "ONE!" Wildchild walks gingerly over and Johnny quickly gives him the call, as Korgath comes off the ropes slowly... *BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!* "Back On Earth" by Ozzy Osbourne is greeted by some cheers from the crowd, as the returning David Cross charges through the curtains. "From Oil City Pennsylvania...the returning DAAAAAVVIIIIIDD CCRRRRROOOOOOOOOSSSSSS!!!" Cross slides into the ring, right beside Wild and Dangerous as they leap in unison, thrusting feet into Korgath who staggers back... ...AND TUMBLES TO THE FLOOR!!! "YEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" "They got him!" Pete exclaims. "One Double Dropkick from the Tag Champions and the Big Demon From Japan finds himself out of the Clusterfuck running." "And you know the worst thing about it all?" "What?" "That means poor Max King has to come into the Clusterfuck alone now!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dominic Korgath ENTERED: 9th LEFT: 4th ELIMINATED: None ELIMINATED BY: Wildchild, Johnny Dangerous LEFT IN RING: Wildchild, Johnny Dangerous, Sean Davis, Todd Cortez, Charlie Matthews, The Boston Strangler, David Cross ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The ring remains packed with some big men, despite Korgath's deparure, as the former World Tag Champion David Cross picks a fight with the reigning winner. Wild and Dangerous meanwhile wave sayonara to Korgath, but taste a double Cortez clothesline moments later. The #1 entrant Wildchild remains down but Dangerous is somehow right back up. But Cortez meets him with a boot, looking for an irish whip. Johnny reverses the whip and wearily ducks his head, perhaps not thinking fully clearly, unlike Cortez who tumbles over Dangerous, taking him over by the waist and SPIKING HIM WITH THE RIOT ACT PLUS!! "Oh MY, right on his head with that Riot Act Plus...the move Todd Cortez has been putting to use recently." "Fliptastic!" crows King. Both W&D are down, while Cortez remains seated, catching his breath with a smile. Across from him, Davis is still keeping Strangler grounded and pounded. David Cross takes over the centre ring meanwhile, Cortez scrambling away as Matthews is thrust to the ropes. Grappler bounces back, Cross waiting for him to come back before attempting the Spinebuster...which Matthews is heavy enough to withstand, grabbing Cross in a front facelock and falling back with the hold applyied, Cross trapped. Cortez looks confused as to what's happening, obviously not acquainted with the ways of the Grappler. So, he grabs Wildchild, pulls him in and calls for another Riot Act Plus. However, Wildchild finds something from somewhere to backdrop Cortez over. Up scrambles Todd, charging, straight into a leg lariat, Wildchild's landing jolting his own neck. "Wildchild finding something, from somewhere, somehow...somebody..." "You're lost, aintcha." sighs Pete. "Mmm hmm. So, how long until your number Pete?" Getting to his feet, Wildchild clutches his neck once more and stumbles aimlessly around the ring, looking for someone to go after while he's physically capable. Everyone is otherwise occupied (or KOed). So Wildchild tries to pull up Cortez. Which is when Strangle finally mows through Davis with a lariat, leaving him facing Wildchild. Quickly and maybe foolishly, Wildchild pushes Todd back to the canvas and runs at Strangler, connecting with a forearm. Two. Three. Four. Strangler's still up as Wildchild rolls, throwin' elbow...AND GETTING PRESSED OVERHEAD! The crowd know what's coming and don't quite know how to react, as Wildchild is dropped... ...INTO THE BOSTON MASSACRE!!! "Oh!" groans a concerned sounding Longdogger. "Uhm...Wildchild may be...well..." "He's fucked, don't sugar-coat it." Wildchild is OUT! COLD! Strangler meanwhile gets back up, looking for more victims. But as he turns around, Sean Davis meets him with a boot, pulls on Strangler's jeans waistband and spikes the 6'9" Strangler on his head with a Pulling Piledriver! As Strangler lands meanwhile, Grappler FINALLY releases David Cross (sweet lord that was a long facelock), going after Sean Davis. "TEN!" "NINE!" "EIGHT!" "SEVEN!" "SIX!" "We are ready for number twelve of twenty." King informs us. "Can this ring withstand any more beef entering?" "FIVE!" "FOUR!" "THREE!" "TWO!" "ONE!" *BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!* "PREPARE...FOR...LANDON!" ...WAAAAAHHHHH... *DUM DUM* "YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!" "And here comes ANOTHER, former World Heavyweight Champion!" "Oh, joy. This is like the Anti-Beef." sneers King. "Megalomaniac" by Incubus hits and the popular in Washington (apparantely) Landon Maddix emerges through the curtains, taking one look at the ring...and deciding not to rush his entrance into his first Clusterfuck. And that's a god-damn understatement. "From Huron, South Dakota... LLLLAAAANNDDOOOOONN "LA CUCARACHA" MMMAAAAAADDIIIIIIXXXX!!!" As Maddix gets into a conversation with someone in the aisleway, the war rages on in the ring, Davis and Grappler going at it tooth and nail whilst David Cross lays the boots in on Todd Cortez. Cortez pulls himself up on the ropes through the onslaught, so Cross backs up and makes a charge at Cortez... ...who ducks a clothesline... ...but Cross SAVES himself by hooking his arm around the top rope, rolling back in. Cortez scampers away to get a little run-up, only to scamper beside the recovered Boston Strangler, who quickly goozles Cortez and takes him on a trip known as The Plunge~! The ride isn't too bad but the landing sucks the big one as Cortez rolls away, as Cross is charging... *SMACK!* ...and CONNECTING with a Yakuza Kick! "What a shot...enough to put the massive Strangler down!" gasps Pete. But Cross seems to be celebrating too soon as he points down at Strangler, unawares that Charlie Matthews is just feet behind him and charging, simply barging Cross up, over..AND TO THE FLOOR! "He got too cocky Pete. You NEVER turn your back on the action in the Clusterfuck if you can help it. NEVER! And that's why." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ David Cross ENTERED: 11th LEFT: 5th ELIMINATED: None ELIMINATED BY: Charlie Matthews LEFT IN RING: Wildchild, Johnny Dangerous, Sean Davis, Todd Cortez, Charlie Matthews, The Boston Strangler, 'Landon Maddix' ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Cross lands, looking directly up at the smiling Maddix who kindly informs Cross that you can't win them all. From the ring, Matthews now looks down at old enemy Maddix and with body open, encourages Maddix to bring the fight to him. The ICTV and USJL Champion smiles back and looks set to do just that. Until Sean Davis whirls Grappler around... ...and gets a boot from Graps, before getting pulled in, front facelock style! "Could this be a Wake-Up Call for the Revolution Zero member?" Pete asks in hope, clearly not noticing Landon Maddix vaulting to the apron and then to the top rope, until the last second, before he crashes down on Grappler, arm connecting squarely with the back of Grappler's neck! "...the hell?" "Brilliant!" cries King. "I know it's Maddix, but still...BRILLIANT!" "Well, it was...somewhat of a cheapshot. I don't see..." "Pete, you're just like every other person who's been in the ring with Grappler. You're forgetting Grappler's one weakness...his NECK!" "Oh..." "You might wanna remember that when your number comes up." "Oh hush." As Davis turns the tables and drops Grappler with a neckbreaker, Maddix has scurried off to put the boots to the two motionless Wild and Dangerous members. But his damage has been done. Grappler remains on the mat holding his neck, cursing to himself, as Davis quickly goes after Strangler. That leaves Todd Cortez to struggle up and help his Martial Law team-mate Maddix. Meanwhile, Davis has found himself on the recieving end of a Strangler onslaught, rights and lefts staggering him before he takes a boot and Davis goes for the Labotomy... ...but Sean brain remains in tact as he catches Strangler on the spin, blocking and somehow MUSCLING Strangler over into a back suplex! Straight up, Strangler is hurt though, the rigours of the ring hurting so much more after so long away. Davis is able to apply a full nelson. But Strangler is still in the match, fighting the hold...and eventually breaking it, before turning behind Davis. Around turns The Perfect Storm, boot, double arm DDT! "And it's Lights Out for Davis, as the timer ticks on towards lucky number thirteen!" ..."SEVEN!" "SIX!" "FIVE!" "FOUR!" "THREE!" "TWO!" "ONE!" *BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!* The crashing guitars of Lamb of God’s “Black Label” cause the crowd to go WILD with hatred, as the other RevZero member enters. "From Hollywood, California... "HOLLYWOOD" SPPIIIIIIIKKEEEEEEE JEEEEENNKKIIIIIIINNSSSSSSSS!!" Spike wastes hardly any time sprinting to the ring, running right through first Cortez and then Maddix with big Lariats. The hyped up Jenkins then wheels around, checking his co-hort Davis is okay. Which he's not, KOed on the canvas...but with Strangler going after Matthews, Spike is able to do what he REALLY wants. Put the boots to Wild and Dangerous and Martial Law! "Look at this Pete, Spike Jenkins DOMINATING, FOUR men...single handedly! That's straight edge conditioning on display there!" "King, he's only just come in." "So?" "Sure, he took down Martial Law, but Wild and Dangerous were down before he even entered." The Cruiserweight Champion doesn't care though relishing the dominance...relishing the boos that wash down on him. Across the ring, Strangler is stomping away on Charlie Matthews, both more tired and hurt than in their primes, from being one-shot entrants and not regular competitors. So Jenkins has no reason not to pull Wildchild up and throw him... ...nowhere. Spike changes his mind about eliminating the sorry looking Wildchild. No. This is Spike's chance to do some unprotected damage to the man he's so desperate to overshadow in the Cruiser HOF. So, as Davis stumbles over and takes care of the other three grounded Revolution enemies, Spike applies a reverse front facelock. The fans will Wildchild to counter, to fight back...anything. But Wildchild is too hurt. *WHAM!* Spike whips Wildchild over with the Clean Living!! "Damn." is all Pete can manage. Spike rolls to his knees, posing for the crowd who boo him vehemently. But it matters not to Spike as he checks Davis is holding his own, before picking Wildchild's lifeless body up. Eventually he lifts the deadweight and casually as you like, drapes the Carribean Cruiserweight's head over the top, flipping his legs over after them, ELIMINATING WILDCHILD! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" "Well, there goes Wildchild." sighs Pete. "Drawn number one, Wildchild is...is going to need helping out of here." "Too bad." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Wildchild ENTERED: 1st LEFT: 6th ELIMINATED: Dominic Korgath ELIMINATED BY: Spike Jenkins LEFT IN RING: Johnny Dangerous, Sean Davis, Todd Cortez, Charlie Matthews, The Boston Strangler, Landon Maddix, Spike Jenkins ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Again 7 remain. On the outside, the nearby referees jog over and check to see if Wildchild is okay, calling out for someone to give him a hand to the back...all this like sweet, unadulterated comedy to Spike. "Wildchild put in a good showing early but the Cyclone Driver from Davis injured his neck, the Boston Massacre was the final nail in Wildchild's chances and...well, Spike just put the finishing touches to him." Pete mumbles, clearly more concerned with Wildchild's well-being than his performance...

Backstage, Ben Hardy stands, microphone in hand awaiting his cue after the hardfought contest between Dace Night and Toxxic. Hardy smiles, while Gus changes to a wider shot, placing both the interviewer and Mak Francis in his view scope. The crowd reacts as expected, cheering for the challenger in tonight’s Main Event. “I’m here with Mak Francis, the man who will be getting a shot at the Smarks Wrestling Federation champion Sacred later tonight. But you’ll notice I did not call him the number one contender. The actual number one contender was just involved in a match with Dace Night.” Hardy pauses. “Mak, some people are wondering just why you are receiving this title shot, when Toxxic is clearly the number one contender.” “That’s right,” says Mak, with an air of confidence. “I’m not the number one contender, but that doesn’t matter. Honestly, I could care less what Toxxic is—I deserve this. This is my first shot—first shot, Hardy, at the World title after three years in the SWF. And if Toxx has a problem with that, then sunshine can say it to my face, so I can slap him back across the pond.” Mak turns and faces the camera. “Sacred, apparently soon is sooner than I could have originally hoped for.” Francis continues to stare straight into the camera, his voice eerily calm considering what he’s talk about. “See two weeks ago, I sat backstage watching your match with Landon Maddix—you were there Hardy. You saw. And I got this odd sensation of déjà vu. A rising star going up against a cagey veteran and a girl on the outside, looking at him suffer, while he slowly, slowly, realizes that he’s going to have to just give up. The chair shot was original though…” A pause. “For some reason seeing that made me upset… and I’m not the guy to get upset, boss. So tonight, I’m going to hurt you like you hurt me—no, I’m going to hurt you worse than you hurt me.” At the end of this sentence Mak breaks into an uncharacteristic smile. “And then—I don’t care how beaten or broken you are. After this match—I’m going to smile. Because I got my payback and you couldn’t do anything to stop it. And who the fu-*beep* are you to tell me otherwise.” Hardy raises his eyebrow at the blatant f-bomb, as the scene fades to black, with just the image of Mak Francis… smiling.

“DUN DUN… DUN DUN… DUH DUH DUN!” As the stirring notes of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony hit the speaker system, a now-familiar figure appears in the entryway. He walks to the top of the ramp, microphone in hand, and surveys the scene before him: a seething mass of screaming humanity, united in their hatred of this handsome Canadian youth. “Ladies and gentleman, please welcome “THE CRITIC” SCOTT PRETZLER!” He walks slowly and proudly down the ramp, savoring the reaction of those for whom he holds so much contempt. “Folks, Scott Pretzler is not scheduled to wrestle here at Clusterfuck,” says Longdogger Pete. “I have no idea what he is doing here, and quite frankly–” Suicide King cuts him off. “Give the guy a chance. You may learn something.” Pretzler stops at the bottom of the ramp and begins to speak. “I’m sure each and every one of you would love to see me lose tonight.” The crowd erupts! “Unfortunately, that will not be possible, as I am not scheduled to wrestle. I tried – believe me, I tried – but the management here just doesn’t seem to be interested in someone who can actually work a match.” He walks up the steps and enters the ring. “But I would like to shed some light on an issue that’s probably been on everyone’s mind since I first appeared here in the SWF. To be specific, I wish to introduce you to the Snowflake Clutch. If you haven’t been following the American indy scene over the past few years, my mention of this move during my last appearance may have caused you to scratch your head – it is, however, the most feared and dangerous submission hold in the business today. Countless championship reigns have been cut short by it. So have a few careers. One might even say that it… brings the swankness. “Everyone should be familiar with it. But since most of you are not, I will now demonstrate it for your enjoyment and benefit. “I will, of course, need a volunteer for this demonstration. Do I have any takers?” He is greeted, of course, by a deafening chorus of boos, as well as the cheers of some fans who wish to get in on the action. “Come on. It won’t hurt THAT MUCH. It’s not like I’m going to make you watch a Landon Maddix match or anything TRULY excruciating!” He chuckles at his own joke. To everyone’s surprise, a cameraman on the outside puts down his equipment and, without hesitation, steps into the ring. He is young, Hispanic, rather heavyset, and a few inches shorter than Pretzler. “Wonderful,” says The Critic. “What is your name?” “Juan Murillo.” “Right. And where are you from?” “I was born and raised in El Salvador. But today I live right here in Washington D.C.!” At the mention of their home town, the crowd once again begins to cheer loudly. “Well that’s quite convenient. It’s a beautiful place, isn’t it? Home to Watergate, a crack-smoking mayor, rampant poverty, the highest crime rate in the nation… you ought to be proud. Damn proud.” “BOOOOOOOOOOO!” Pretzler's attempts at getting cheap heat are immediately successful. “Shut up. I take it, Señor, that you are a camera operator.” “That’s right.” “Tell me, Juan, what was it that made you step into the ring… No – better yet, what made you want to become a cameraman? To dedicate your entire existence to documenting the lives of famous people, while you yourself received no recognition whatsoever? Doesn’t it make you feel… small? “Like a parasite?” “I love my job, sir.” “Oh, of course you do. Who doesn’t? Every man loves his job. And I can certainly see why you chose to remain behind the camera. I mean, you are a little dumpy, and your nose is a tad large, and the rest of your face does look like it was devoured by flesh-eating bacteria… no, you’re definitely not what one might call a looker.” Juan is becoming very embarrassed. He is angry, too, but he knows that it is not his place to talk back to or strike a wrestler, and is slightly intimidated by Pretzler. He casts his eyes downward and turns away. Pretzler can sense his mounting rage and humiliation. “I’m sorry…” he laughs, “I… ha ha… I didn’t bring you out here to make you look like a complete tool. I’m just a dick, I guess. Sorry.” He slaps the cameraman hard on the back, jolting him to alertness. The crowd “Oooooh”s at this insult. Murillo’s face is becoming red. “Okay, now here’s how the move works. Pay careful attention. It begins with my opponent in a sitting position – that means you’re gonna have to sit down, pizzaface. Well, what are you waiting for?” Juan hesitates, then whirls around and attempts to punch Scott in the face. Pretzler blocks it and forces Juan to his knees while still holding the microphone. He kicks Juan in the back of the neck and grabs his left arm. “Now,” he grunts through exertion, “I wrap the foe’s left arm across his chest…” he does this, “…and then do same with the other arm, so the two arms are crossed over each other.” He drops the microphone and secures the right arm of the struggling victim, completing the cross pattern. He then twists Juan’s body so he is lying on his stomach with Pretzler straddling his back – the effect is that of a cross-armed camel clutch. Gritting his teeth, Pretzler wrenches back on the hold, causing the cameraman to scream. “Somebody stop this!” shouts Pete. “Pretzler has no right to be torturing this defenseless man!” “Nice form,” says King. Pretzler continues to tighten the hold, Murillo howling in pain all the while. Finally, a security crew rushes into the ring and separates them. As he relinquishes his grip, Pretzler allows himself to be restrained by the guards. The medical staff have also arrived, and are loading Juan Murillo onto a stretcher. Pretzler calls for the microphone. Once the security guards are certain that he is under control, they allow the referee to hand it to him. He takes it. “So there you have it, my friends. Though derived from a simple camel clutch, it is actually far more effective as it puts additional pressure on the arms and shoulders and allows for less mobility in the victim. “Remember to pop for it when you see it in my first match. And if you’re in the mood, try it on your little brother.” He smirks and lets the security crew take him to the back.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BU-BU-BU-BU-BOOOOMM!!! Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!! LDP: Welcome SWF fans, it’s time for Clusterfuck 2005 and we are LIVE from Washington DC, in front of a sell-out crowd in the MCI Center! King: Sellout crowd? You mean they’ve abandoned their moral principles for money? LDP: No, not at all. King: Damn, I thought I might like them for once… Before LDP can reply the Smarktron abruptly whites out as the crashing opening chord of ‘Rookie’ by Boy Sets Fire rings out over the arena, the screen quickly darkening to black as the words ‘PREPARE TO BE PROVED WRONG…’ flash up in jagged white letters. The image quickly changes to show various clips of Toxxic in combat with the Insane Luchador, Aecas and Nathaniel Kibagami before shifting once more to show him taking Mike Van Siclen off a balcony and through a table, the devastating landing timed to coincide with the final, stagewide eruption of pyro as blast of red climb the entrance ramp- BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BOOOM! -and announces the arrival of the SWF’s premier straight-edger! Booooooooooooooooooooooo! Toxxic sucks! Toxxic sucks! Toxxic strides out from the back, not even accompanied by Jet on this occasion, and heads straight down for the ring as the fans boo in derision. Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a Pure Wrestling match scheduled for one fall with a 30-minute time limit. There will be no punching allowed, and each competitor is limited to a maximum of three rope breaks. Introducing first, from Nottingham, England; he is the leader of Revolution Zero and weighs in tonight at 218lbs; the ‘Straight-Edge Sensation’… TOXXXXXXX-IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIC!! Booooooooooooooooooooooo! Toxxic pays no attention to the fans and rolls into the ring, then pops upright and throws his arms wide to ignite yet more red pyro at the top of each turnbuckle. BAM! LDP: Well, Toxxic at least showed some honour and respect by agreeing to face Dace in this contest tonight instead of taking his title shot against Sacred, but the fans here in Washington don’t seem to be taking kindly to him! King: Some people just don’t recognise talent when they see it. Which is presumably why the Redskins suck so bad. Before Suicide King can continue any further it is his turn to be kit off as the drum solo intro to ‘Painkiller’ by Death kicks up and the lights flash red and white to the beats. The opening scream tears out of the PA system as white pyro lights the ramp from top to bottom- BOOOM! -before the song kicks into full gear, and Dace Night walks out from the back throwing the horns to the crowd as the Smarktron screen seems to shatter! Yeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Dace! Dace! Dace! Dace! Dace! Funyon: And his opponent, from Birmingham, England and now residing in Tampa Bay, Florida; he weighs in tonight at 255lbs; he is the High Priest of Horrocore, DACE! Fucking! Funyon: NIIIIIIGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHT!! Dace climbs through the ropes and throws the horns to the crowd once more, then strips off his shirt and throws it into the front rows where it starts a small riot. Toxxic meanwhile strips off his ‘Hardcore Punk’ T-shirt and just throws it at Dace, who swats it aside and kicks it out of the ring. DING, DING, DING! Yyyyyyyyyyyyaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh! LDP: It’s time to get down to bid’ness! The first match of Clusterfuck 2005 - and yes, Dace Night vs. Toxxic is the FIRST match! King: And the shortest as well, it won’t take Toxxic long to wear this lumbering ox out. The two man still stand facing each other, from across the ring, eyeing each other slowly, moving slowly, like mountains playing chess with each other. Throwing his arms over head again, Dace calls out of the roaring crowd and cuts a finger slowly across his throat as he points at Toxxic with his other hand. The Straight Edge Sensation just shrugs it off and advances, mouthing to Dace, words unheard by anyone else apart from referee Hebner. Giving a small grin, Dace advances as well, the two men coming together, Horrorcore towering over the former World Champion. Let’s Go Dace! Let’s Go Dace! Let’s Go Dace! Let’s Go Dace! Jaws moving, words and insults clearly passing quickly between the two. Almost shoving, but no more than posturing as a shoving match between the two wouldn’t really last very long. Hebner holds back, staying well away from the two men, knowing there is no need to step in yet. Having warned both men of the rules, Hebner hopes there wont be much else for him to do during the match. Let’s Go! CLAP CLAP! Let’s Go! CLAP CLAP! Let’s Go! CLAP CLAP! Let’s Go! CLAP CLAP! Ever so slowly, not wanting to give an inch, the two men back down, stepping apart, just slightly, just enough room to move a bit. Sticking his hand out roughly, Dace offers a handshake, looking Toxxic straight in the eye all the while. Not shifting his gaze either, the Straight Edger takes Night’s hand and starts a handshake. A grimace crosses Toxxic’s face as Night squeezes on the handshake but he doesn’t back away, as the crowd watches on, seeing the mounting tension between Horrorcore and the Straight Edger. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! The sounds of the crowd echo around the arena as the fans beat themselves into a frenzy while the rings stands like the eye of a storm, with Toxxic and Dace Night at the very centre of it, still locked in a stare and a handshake. Toxxic tries to back away and break the grasp, wanting to start the match. But Dace holds him tight and just drags him back in, with a glare on his face... Ooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! King: See, Dace knows he’ll be outmanoeuvred, he’s not letting go of him! A slight look of shock crosses Toxxic’s face, turning into another yelled insult as he twists around, drawing Night’s arm with him into a Hammerlock behind Night’s back. The Straight Edge Sensation quickly spreads his legs into a base and pushes his weight forwards, driving it into Dace’s shoulder, adding pressure to the Hammerlock. Reaching back across his shoulder, Dace grabs at the back of Toxxic’s head and neck as he matches a twist, the snap on Toxxic’s neck giving him more room to spin around, shifting to a Hammerlock of his own. Sliding his other arm through the bent arm, Dace adds a bar to the hold, making sure Toxxic can’t twist around again in a catch as catch can game. The Straight Edger still tries to twist way, but his arm his firmly pinned to his back and Dace can easily turn with him, keeping his arm bent and pressed hard against his back. Toxxic tries to copy Dace’s earlier tactic if reaching over his shoulder and snapping around but the form on his arm just makes him grunt as the bar holds the Hammerlock in tight. With every step the former World Champion takes, Horrorcore just drives him forwards, putting more and more weight across the hold. With a low growl, Dace throws all his weight forwards as the Straight Edger tries to drop to his knees and roll way from the hold. Oooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Riding him down like a guard taking down a prisoner, Night brings all his strength to bare, tipping Toxxic face first to the mat as he tries to drop and roll. Calmly seating his weight across Toxxic’s lower back, Night leans forwards and keeps the Hammerlock clamped and barred in. Scrabbling around with his free arm, Toxxic tries to find something to hit, some body part to connect with, but finds nothings and just feels even more pain shooting up his arm and along the joint of his shoulder. Looking at the ropes infront of him, Toxxic starts to crawl, as best his can with over two hundred and fifty pounds pinning him down, hoping to make Dace change tactics rather than actually hoping to get to the ropes. And Night does change tactics, unbarring the arm and just slapping the Straight Edge Sensation around the side of it head, hard enough to make his ears ring. And again and again, just boxing the one side of Toxxic’s head, making him feel like a church bell and destroying any sense of balance for a few moments. Now using the Hammerlock to keep control, Night rains in slaps and a few chops across Toxxic’s back and between his shoulder blades, making the Straight Edger cry out at each blow, his back slowly turning pink from the strikes. Only barely managing to cover his head, Toxxic tries to shield the sensitive back of head and ears from any more strikes and hoping that Dace doesn’t start raining down Elbows Smashes as well. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Yyyyyyyyyaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh! King: That’s totally unnecessary! This is meant to be pure wrestling, not a slapping contest! LDP: It’s only closed fists that are illegal in this one, King. Twisting his weight around on the mat, Night moves to lay across Toxxic’s shoulders and starts to slam his knee quickly into the side of Toxxic’s neck and where the Straight Edger hasn’t covered his face. Hebner steps in and kneels down, checking everything is legal, checking that Toxxic hasn’t decided to give up from the blows. Still holding the Hammerlock and using it like a chain to stop the former World Champ from scrambling way, Night drives the point of his elbow onto Toxxic’s arms, trying to use them like a chisel to break the defence apart. One blow and then another and another and the arms start to slacken, the guard dropping. Pivoting around on his knees, Dace drops infront on Toxxic now, but still keeps his grip on the arm with the Hammerlock. With the free arm, Dace snakes a quick Front Facelock around the Sensation’s neck, clamping down and now having a combo of two controlling holds on at once. Franticly flapping around like a fish out of water, Toxxic tries to wriggle know, knowing he has to get off the mat and into the air or he’ll slowly be taken apart, piece by piece. Twisting this way and that, it’s only his speed that allows him to get any leverage from the hold, as Dace just sandbags all of his weight, forcing every little ounce of pressure onto the hold he can. Let’s Go Dace! Let’s Go Dace! Let’s Go Dace! LDP: Toxxic is caught here, he’s going to need to think of something soon or Dace will have won this well before the half hour mark! King: Dace bringing out his best ‘boring Grappler’ impression, I see. Rolling to one side just enough, Toxxic managed to tuck one of his knees under his body before Dace snaps him back roughly and cranks the hold again. Hebner is still there, asking, checking the hold, checking it’s not a choke. With one knee under, Toxxic has room to get the other tucked under himself as well, lifting his body off the mat, taking some weight off his ribs and giving himself just a little room to suck in air as best he can with an arm around his neck. Swinging his free arm in a closed fist, it’s only a warning yell from Referee Hebner that stops Toxxic from landing an illegal punch. Opening his fist quickly, he struggles to pull back for another blow as Night twists the hold, pulling Toxxic’s neck and arm around to an unnatural angle. With very little else he can do, Toxxic settles for using slaps to the side of the ribs, hearing the crack through the muffle of Dace’s arm. Twice more Toxxic lands the open handed slaps but they’re not enough to do more than sting Horrorcore’s sides. Pushing his weight forwards now, Night releases the hold suddenly, catching Toxxic off guard and nearly over-balancing him, not expecting the pull on his neck and arm to suddenly vanish. Catching the Sensation’s other arm, the one that had been slapping at his ribs, Dace twists to the side, snapping both men over to the mat on their backs. Back rolling, Night holds onto the arm and ends up sitting around Toxxic’s waist this time, still holding the arm. Again Toxxic launches into a rain of wild slaps but a quick forearm to the face knocks him back for a moment. Using the arm as a lever, Horrorcore drops his weight across it, half pinning Toxxic down to the mat. But a quick yell from Hebner lets everyone know only one shoulder is down. Again using the point of his elbow, Dace drives it into the middle of the Straight Edger’s chest, sending air rushing out from his lungs. Swinging his legs around, Dace moves himself into a seated position besides Toxxic’s shoulders, wrapping his arms around Toxxic’s head and cranking back with a simple Side Headlock, keeping the Straight Edge Sensation firmly grounded. With his legs still half tangled around Toxxic’s arm, Dace simply scissors them closed, trapping the arm, removing the leverage from it and any risk of him being rolled onto his back. Leaning backwards, Dace grins at Toxxic’s yell of the pain shooting up his arm and around his neck. Flipping his legs back up over his body, Toxxic tries to lace them around Horrorcore’s neck to pull him off with a Headscissors but finds him just out of reach. LDP: Did you want a side order of headlock with your resthold, King? King: Oh shut up. Once more the free arm frails about, the last struggles, trying to break free in the easiest way rather then wasting more energy. Toxxic can already feel his head throbbing, from the pressure of Dace Night’s grip around it, the arms cutting off oxygen and trying to crush bone at the same time as well. Managing to hook his hand into the crook of Horrorcore’s elbow, the former World Champ tries to use it as leverage point to roll Dace onto his back and into a pinning combination, but with his arm trapped and Dace’s weight riding on his chest, he just doesn’t have the strength to manage it. As if the clamp on his head wasn’t bad enough, two hundred and fifty pounds resting on his chest was starting to do more that dig into his ribs, his lungs struggling to expand and suck in more with air with the extra weight, Toxxic starts kicking again. He wasn’t going to pass out anytime soon, but he would if he didn’t escape the hold and start getting some offence in or the Straight Edger would be done for. For a second time, Toxxic tries for a Headscissors but Dace keeps his head down away from the move. Then Toxxic tries to roll him again, but Dace releases the Headlock just to drill the point of his elbow into Toxxic’s chest again. The blow takes nearly every last bit of air from the Sensation’s lungs and leaves him staring up at the lights, gasping. LDP: There just doesn’t seem to be any way out here for Toxxic. King: Bah, if Dace thinks a headlock is enough to beat Toxxic then that explains why he’s never managed it before! Quickly gripping Toxxic’s free arm in a Knuckle Lock, Night un-scissors his legs and moves around, grabbing the other hand in a Knuckle Lock as well. Even though he’s still in trouble, Toxxic can feel his arm start to relax as the blood flows freely down it again. But the cry the and the sound of a hand slapping on the mat jerks him back to the match. ONE! TWO! Kickout! Barely jerking his shoulders off the mat, Toxxic struggles to keep at least one of his arms up, struggling against Dace’s greater strength and his positioning advantage. Bringing all his weight to bear again, Dace forces the Straight Edger’s shoulder back to the canvas and Hebner jumps in to count again. ONE! TWO! Kickout! Dace watches Toxxic’s chest heave, the effort of refilling his lungs and of trying to keep his shoulders back taking it’s toll on the former World Champ. Horrorcore continues to press, determined to keep Toxxic trapped on the mat and too worn down to fly around, to worn down to slip away from holds or Suplexes. Watching as Toxxic bunches his legs up, Night waits for it as the Straight Edger tries to kip up, hoping for the spring to break him free from the Knuckle Lock. Giving just a little slack in his grasp, Night waits for Toxxic’s body to start to rise up before jerking his arms with a sharp push, stopping the kip up with a bone jarring jolt and leaving Toxxic with his shoulders down once again. ONE TWO! Kickout! Almost half bridged up, Toxxic tries to use the arch of his body to at least take some weight from his arms, even if he can’t escape from the Knuckle Lock, hoping to be able to kick Dace’s legs out from under him. Seeing this position, Dace acts almost like a cruiserweight and throws his weight up, as if he was going for a handstand before dropping his weight back down, knees first into Toxxic’s ribs. There’s a sound of air rushing out of Toxxic’s lungs as Dace grins and holds his weight down again for yet another cover. ONE! TWO! Kickout! Even after dropping all his weight onto Toxxic’s chest isn’t enough to get the pin, Dace thinks it will have at lest worn the Straight Edger down without a lot of effort from himself. Using the hold of the Knuckle Lock, Night pulls Toxxic up into a sitting position before cracking him around the face with two short forearms. Leaving him reeling like a drunk, Dace breaks away and stands up, giving himself a small run up before charging forwards and swinging his left around, cracking Toxxic with a kick to the chest. CRACK! King: Are you wrestling or playing football? Watching Toxxic flop back to the mat, Dace throws up his arms for a moment, as the Straight Edge Sensation rolls along the mat, bailing out under the ropes, clutching at his chest. Moving to follow, Horrorcore goes to charge under the ropes after Toxxic and to beat him around the outside of the ring. But Hebner steps in front of Horrorcore and warns him to keep it inside of the ring. Even as he turns around and starts to count Toxxic out. One.... Two.... Three.... Four... Five... LDP: Toxxic wisely taking a break here as he has been totally outgunned in this match so far! King: Sooner or later Dace will decide to break out the big guns, and that’s when Toxxic will have more room to move and counter. It’ll all work out fine, just you wait. Chest still heaving, Toxxic shakes his head, trying to clear his mind out quickly, trying get himself some plan of attack, knowing he needs to get into the air for this one right now. From the ring, Dace looks over the ropes as yells for Toxxic to get back him, yelling at him to get a move on with it and to start fighting again. Just wanting to force Toxxic into rushing himself and getting caught again. Toxxic Sucks! Toxxic sucks! Toxxic sucks! ....Six ....Seven ....Eight and Toxxic finally rolls back in, keeping close to the ropes to give himself another few seconds before he lunches forwards, at least having his lungs full of air again. Cracking his neck, Dace moves in, keeping his legs in a wide base, ready to have to tackle a flying target, looking for the best way to ground the former World Champ again and to take away all his options. Toxxic edges in and snaps like an over stretched spring, leaping into the air and throwing his feet out for a Dropkick that would have taken Dace straight in the jaw. If it hadn’t been the sort of move Dace was expecting, swinging his arms like a fan, Night swats the Dropkick out of the air, leaving Toxxic to flop to a mat. And again Night pounces, leaping over Toxxic’s body and dropping into a Side Headlock, this time with the Sensation face down on the mat. But the hold still works the same, clamping down on the skull, making it hard to breath and move, taking away any rest the break on the outside might have done for Toxxic. Keeping the hold locked with all the weight he can managed, Dace tries to keep the Straight Edger down on the head, and unable to really recover. Horrorcore can feel the shift of weight as Toxxic gets his knees under himself. Wrapping his arms around Night’s waist, Toxxic pushes as hard as he can, forcing his weight off the mat and bringing both men into a standing position. Digging his heels into the mat, the Straight Edger lurches forwards, making the best push he can, hoping to run Dace into the ropes to escape the Side Headlock. There’s a counter to everything though and Dace simple lets go of the Headlock and stops himself dead, with Toxxic almost running him over as he makes his race for the ropes. Twisting around on his heel Night drives the edge of his hand into Toxxic’s chest with a Knife Edge Chop, again driving the air out of him. SMACK! Grabbing Toxxic by the arm now, to hold him in place for the attack, Horrorcore launches a rain of chops into the chest of the ex World Champ, each down turning the pink flesh an even darker shade, the sound of flesh on flesh echoing through out the whole arena, reaching the ears of every single last fan. With Toxxic doubled over and sucking in air, once again almost totally breathless, Dace jumps at the chance to keep him grounded again and takes him over into another Side Headlock, putting Toxxic on his back and staring up at the lights again. Very close to being in the dead centre of the ring, Toxxic knows he has no chance of crawling away so he has to find other ways of breaking before Night starts to break out the big guns. Wrenching back on the simple hold, Dace listens to Toxxic’s grunts and shortening gasps for breath. Knowing that he’s not doing any major damage, but that he’s certainly wearing Toxxic down and keeping him grounded. Bunching the legs and springing, throwing his body like wound up coil, the Sensation goes to the kip up once more as a way of trying to get himself up from the mat, but as athletic as he is, Night’s grip is too night and he just crashes back to the mat with a thud. Squeezing again, Dace rides the hold with all his weight, knowing he has to make Toxxic dazed to have a chance of hitting him with some big bombs. Gritting his teeth in effort, Toxxic struggles to roll himself backwards, looking to try the only other way out of the hold. Placing his hands flat on the mat, Toxxic pushes his weight up and maybe not smoothly but surely lifts himself up into a handstand. Dace looks over with a start and tries to force the Straight Edger back down, Horrorcore moving to keep his advantage and make sure Toxxic doesn’t get a chance to take to the air. But the Sensation gives one kick and pops up from his hands, his head sliding free from the headlock and landing on his feet. Before Dace has a chance to react to the escape, the former World Champ leaps again and slams both of his boots straight into Horrorcore’s face with a Dropkick, dropping him to the mat and giving himself needed moments to recover. As the ringing in Dace’s head starts to fade, he feels the clamp around his head of a Side Headlock, as Toxxic drops into one, hoping to keep Dace down long enough to recover slightly. Leaning back, Dace tries to ride out the hold, working his hands in between Toxxic’s arms and his had, taking some of the pressure off the hold. King: Hah! How do you like your headlock now, ‘Horrorcore’? LDP: I’m not sure if Toxxic trying a headlock is wise, given his opponent… Sitting there for a few moments, the Sensation takes any chance he can to suck in air before Horrorcore starts to stir, ready to be on the attack again. Night tries to just shove Toxxic clear, but Toxxic leans backwards, dropping his weight across Night’s chest and making a quick cover of it. ONE! Kickout! His head still groggy, Toxxic doesn’t notice the legs coming back until the latch around his head and yank him backwards into a Side Headscissors, again the vice like pressure crushing at his head and cutting off his air ways slightly. The grogginess filling him again, glad at least the effects of the Hammerlock have faded away now. Squeezing his legs as tight as he can, Dace tries to force Toxxic to tap right there, yelling at Hebner to check on his opponent, check it’s clean and see if he’s tapping. Knowing that hold after hold will be wearing Toxxic down, that the Straight Edger can’t go forever, Dace leans back again, again, feeling Toxxic kick, hoping he wouldn’t be so slippery when he starts to slam him around. LDP: What did I tell you? King: Shut up. Kicking his legs out, Toxxic tries to get to the ropes, unable to see exactly where they are due to the legs laced around his neck, but looking around him, he can see the other sets of ropes are close, meaning he’s trapped on the wrong side of the wall. Rolling to the side, Toxxic managed to twist himself to be kneeling and head down on the mat, but it doesn’t stop any of the pressure for Night’s grip on his head. Wriggling his head from side to side, Toxxic tries to slip free. Feeling the twisting and turning, Dace waits, sitting there, watching, as Toxxic pops his head up, free of the hold with a shout. Just in time to meet a forearm to the face that cracks the side of his jaw. Grabbing Toxxic by the head, Dace forces him back down, straight back into the Headscissors, knowing he was lucky with his timing but that every bit helps. SMACK! The sound of a chop across Toxxic’s back echoes, Horrorcore still taking things very slowly, wearing him down. Head dizzy with the effort, Toxxic quickly plants his hands on the mat and flips himself up into another handstand, pivoting around on his head and dropping backwards. Dropping his body across Horrorcore’s, the Straight Edge Sensation collapse for a moment, hardly realising that he’s making a cover. ONE! TW-Kickout! Rolling back from the kickout, Toxxic latches onto the ropes as he bounces against the quickly using them to haul himself up. Springing to the second rope, Toxxic dives through the air towards Night, desperately trying to put him down to get a breather. Seeing the arrow like shape of the Straight Edger’s Dropkick flying towards him, Dace barely manages to spread his arms in him, bunching up and almost plucking Toxxic from the air, stopping him from getting any from the move. With Toxxic warped up again, Night twists around to the middle of the ring to slam Toxxic down, having him worn down enough to open up with the big guns. But Toxxic snakes his arms up and links them around Horrorcore’s neck, dropping all his weight backwards and pushing hard with his legs, just about getting enough leverage to take Dace over and dump him to the mat with a Monkey Flip. Rolling to the ropes, Toxxic grabs hold of them like a lifeline and hauls himself up, sucking down ragged gulps of air, shaking his head. King: Yes! You show that braindead metal freak who’s in charge! Looking up at the lights, blinking slowly, Dace swears at being caught like that as he scrambles to his feet, looking to take Toxxic’s head from his shoulders to stop him doing something like that again. Sending his arm sailing through the air like an iron bar, Dace aims it straight for Toxxic’s neck, but the bounce of the ropes his just enough for Toxxic. Leaping into the air, Toxxic latches onto the Lariat as he swings his body behind Night’s back and scissors Night’s over arm with his legs, rolling backwards, Toxxic drags both of them down and rolls Dace into a Crucifix pinning hold as Hebner leaps in to count the fall. ONE! TWO! Kickout! Surging now, knowing rushes don’t last long, especially when you hardly have air in lungs, Toxxic makes a run of it. Leaping into the air again as Dace comes back to his feet, the Straight Edge Sensation lands on Horrorcore’s shoulders. But rather than swinging backwards for a Hurricanrana, Toxxic tips his weight forwards, sliding down Dace’s back and rolling him up into a Sunset Flip, as Hebner dives in again. ONE! TWO! Kickout! Shoving himself off the mat to break the pinning combination, Dace rolls backwards for a second before lunging forwards, hoping to catch Toxxic before he can move away, and pin him down again. But Toxxic back rolls as well, slipping away from Dace’s grasp and leaving him sprawled on the mat. As soon as he gets to his feet, Toxxic jumps again and once more smashes both boots into Nights’ face with a low Dropkick. Knowing far to late that while he’s worn the Straight Edger down, it’s not quite enough, Dace tries to shake his head clear, but doesn’t have a chance as a weight drops across the back of his had and sends stars across his eyes again as Toxxic drops a Springboard Legdrop. Quickly rolling Dace onto his back, Toxxic flops into another cover, not even able to hook the leg. ONE! TWO! Kickout! Toxxic Sucks! Toxxic Sucks! Toxxic Sucks! Still sucking in air with every chance he gets, Toxxic slowly climbs back to his feet, stumbling slightly as he makes it to the ropes. Turning around, he watches as Dace picks himself up, shaking his head. Leaping to the ropes and flying through the air yet again, Toxxic makes sure Dace doesn’t catch him this time, hooking on a Facelock in mid air. But he doesn’t nail a DDT, he surprises Night and shifts to the side as he rolls, cradling him over into a Small Package, leaving Dace with his shoulders down on the mat again. ONE! TWO! Kickout! King: Just give up Dace! You’re outmatched! LDP: Toxxic certainly seems to have turned the tables here, but can he maintain his momentum? Clenching his teeth at the strain, Toxxic managed to hold onto the grip around Horrorcore’s neck even as he rolls free. Struggling back to his feet, Dace finds the former World Champion clinging onto he stands. Dropping his weight back in a flash, Toxxic sits out, dragging Dace down into a Sitout Jawbreaker, snapping his head back with a small crunch. Watching Night stagger backwards, Toxxic throws himself into the air and this time connects with the Dropkick, sending Dace back to the mat like a falling tree trunk. Bouncing into the ropes again, springing from the second rope, the Straight Edge Sensation twists through the air, dropping himself chest first with a simple Splash, holding on for the cover. ONE! TWO! Kickout! Struggling back up to his feet, Toxxic drags Dace up with him, snaking on a Front Facelock, quickly dropping to one knee with a Facecrusher, but as he pops up for the DDT part of the Sobering Thought combo, Dace snaps a desperation elbow into the Straight Edger’s ribs, stunning him for a moment. It’s a moment that Dace needs, to clear his head out, just enough for the basest of thoughts to tell him to keep hitting. Again and again Horrorcore smashes his elbows and forearms into Toxxic’s ribs, nailing blow after blow, driving Toxxic back and stopping him from hitting the DDT. Wrapping his arms around the Sensation, Night surges forwards, hauling Toxxic up and slamming him back first into the nearest turnbuckle. Backing off, Dace unloads in a flurry, with slaps that box Toxxic’s face and ears, following up with a series of quick Elbow Smashes, the three blows snapping Toxxic’s head back each time with a sharp crack. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! King: Punches! LDP: Rubbish! Stepping back, Dace sags against the ropes, catching his breath, waiting for his eyes for focus completely again. Slumped against the turnbuckles, it’s all Toxxic can do to keep himself upright, ears ringing like a church bell, spots flashing here and there infront of his vision, the age old sign that someone’s hit you hard around the head. Hebner is close at hand, having watched every single blow for sign of a punch, warning Dace all the while to back out of the corner. Now Hebner checks to make sure that the two men aren’t grappling, that there’s no need to call for a break. Latching onto Toxxic’s wrist, Horrorcore digs his heels into the mat and spins around, launching Toxxic across the ring into the turnbuckles. Dazed but still managing to move, Toxxic leap up and jumps to the turnbuckles, quickly scaling to the top, but has to pause for a moment as he wobbles, his balance still not perfect from being boxed around the ears. Steeling himself, the former World Champ dives backwards, twisting around in the air to deliver a Clothesline, but he’s taking too much time balancing and Dace is there waiting for him. Glad to see his tactics have been paying off in managing to counter at least some of Toxxic’s flying skills, Dace sends his leg flashing through the air like a knife. His foot connecting with Toxxic’s chest in mid air and taking him out of the air and watching him drop to the mat like stone. Easily scooping up the dead weight of Toxxic’s body, Dace hauls him into a Face Facelock and lifts his high into the air with a Vertical Suplex. Leaving him hanging, for moment after moment after moment, all the blood draining down into Toxxic’s head before Horrorcore finally drops back to the mat with the Stalling Vertical Suplex, floating over into a cover and hooking the leg. ONE! TWO! Kickout! LDP: And just like that Dace Night is back in control, the High Priest of Horrorcore has really been on top in this contest so far! King: So far. You remember those two words, they’re very important. Quickly dragging Toxxic up again, Night measure the Sensation before trying to take his head from his shoulders with a Lariat that sends Toxxic through the air with a two hundred and seventy degree spin, dropping him face first to the mat, hardly moving. Again, Dace moves into a quick, tight cover, trying to keep the pressure and if not win, make Toxxic use energy kicking out. ONE! TWO! TH-Kickout! Slamming his fist into the mat, Dace draws his finger across his throat just like at the start of the match and points to the top of the nearest turnbuckle. Picking Toxxic up like a ragdoll, Horrorcore just carries him across to the corner and picks him up, dumping the Straight Edger on the top rope. Hooking on a Front Facelock and using the same arm to grab Toxxic’s leg, Night reaches forwards to grab Toxxic’s other leg with his free hand. But digging down, Toxxic finds just enough to send a slap around the side of Night’s head, making his ears ring for a moment. Franticly fighting, Toxxic starts kicking his knees up, slamming them one after the other into Night’s chin, feeling the hold on him loosen slowly. Now taking his turn to grab Dace’s head, the Straight Edge Sensation kicks off the ropes and uses them to spin around, leaving Night facing the turnbuckles as Toxxic drops his weight backwards, pulling Night out of the corner with an Inverted DDT. Head still ringing, it’s all Toxxic can do to make himself pitch forwards to get a cover form the move as he slumps down as well. ONE! TWO! THR-Kickout! LDP: Toxxic counters the Muscle Buster into the Final Shine, but it’s not enough! Both men lay there for moments after the kick out, trying to set their heads straight, trying to figure our what they’re about to do next to get back into the match. Rolling over and grabbing hold of the ropes, the former World Champ uses them to help drag himself up to his feet, standing up slowly, making sure he can stand without using the ropes. As Night slowly starts to roll to his feet, Toxxic does the best thing he can and just kicks him in the face, repeatedly. Then dragging Dace all the way up to his feet, Toxxic snaps home a quick European Uppercut because scaling the ropes again, standing on the top rope, not having to worry about balance too much. Watch as Dace Night staggers around, Toxxic springs from the top rope, diving through the air, looking to score a match winning Hurricanrana but as he lands on Horrorcore’s shoulders, the former World Champ finds himself being sent back towards the turnbuckles. Against dumping Toxxic on the top turnbuckle, Dace tries to hook him up for the Muscle Buster again, but against Toxxic tries to fight out, throwing chops and forearms. But Night has none of it, slapping Toxxic’s arms away and drilling him in the face with two stiff elbow smashes. Fuck Him Up Dace, Fuck Him Up! CLAP-CLAP! Fuck Him Up Dace, Fuck Him Up! CLAP-CLAP! Climbing up to the second rope, Horrorcore pulls the former World Champ into a half standing position, wrapping his arms around Toxxic’s mid section for a Gutwrench Suplex but with a frantic shove, Toxxic sends Dace back to the mat with a thud, but ends up crashing down crotch first onto the turnbuckles himself. Almost bounding back to his feet, Dace races back to the corner and smacks Toxxic with another Elbow Smash before simply hauling him up, spinning him around and planting him with a Spinebuster, barely managing to drop into a cover after the move. ONE! TWO! THR-Kickout! Rolling over, both men lay side by side, staring up at the lights, chests heaving at the effort to keep sucking in air and to keep moving. A bell sounds and there’s a call, the sign that it’s only three minutes left in the match. LDP: Three minutes remaining, and both men really need to step up their games here if they want to come away from this match with a win! King: Ah, but it’s only Dace that really needs to - Toxxic has beaten Dace twice in singles competition, if he can hold out for a draw under Pure Wrestling rules against Dace, I’d say he can count that as a moral win! LDP: What do you know about morals? King: I know enough to know I can survive quite happily without them. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! Let’s Go Dace! Let’s Go! Let’s Go Dace! Let’s Go! Slowly rolling into a seated position, Dace shakes his head clear, clutching at it as he slowly stands up. Toxxic’s not far beyond, the former World Champion desperate as ever to make it into the air to for the offence but a boot to the guy cuts him off, doubling him over, as Horrorcore clamps on a quick Front Facelock and snaps backwards, spiking the Straight Edger to the mat with a DDT. Rolling over, Dace makes a cover again... Yyyyyyyyyyyaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh! ONE! TWO! THR-Kickout! Bbbbbbbbbbbooooooooooooo! Toxxic’s Sucks! Toxxic Sucks! Roughly yanking the Sensation to his feet, Horrorcore swings behind him into a Rear Waistlock, looking to just dump Toxxic on his shoulders with a German Suplex, to knock his head about once again, but Toxxic struggles forwards wildly, grasping at the top ropes infront of him. Break! LDP: Dace was going for the German Suplex and that might have been enough, but Toxxic was able to make it to the ropes. King: And if Dace had brains, he’d just nail Toxxic anyway but he doesn’t so oh well, he’ll lose with like three seconds to go. Stepping backwards, Dace makes the break, giving Toxxic room before shoving him in the back and sending him sprawling into the turnbuckles with a thud. Backing up, Night readies his elbow to drive it into the back of Toxxic’s skull, but as he charges it, Toxxic grips the top rope and throws his body upwards, hooking his legs around Night’s neck. Swinging his body around and out of the corner, Toxxic whips his legs round and sends Dace crashing head first into the middle turnbuckle. CRUNCH! Bbbbbbbbbbbbboooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! Reaching up, Toxxic quickly rolls the dazed Dace Night into a School Boy, leaning all this weight up into the hold, not using the ropes but still putting on as much pressure as we can. ONE! TWO! THR-Kickout! Yyyyyyyyyyyyyaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Dace! Dace! Dace! Dace! Dace! LDP: Headscissors into the turnbuckles, a brilliant counter form Toxxic and it nearly won him the match. King: God, I’d have seen that coming a mile off. Just doesn’t to show that a pea brain, hairy chested ape Dace Night is. LDP: Wrestlers don’t have hair on their chests King..... Both men try to scramble back to their feet, but Dace can only just manage to stand after having his head meet the turnbuckle in such an unexpected way, and Toxxic just drives a boot into his midsection, pulling him into a Standing Headscissors and looping his arms into a Double Underhook, hardly able to swing Horrorcore around and drop him on his face with the Toxxic Shock Syndrome. And it’s even more of a struggle to roll him over onto his back and drop into a cover, as Toxxic hopes it’s the last one. King: Toxxic Shock Syndrome and this is over at last damn it. Toxxic’s one again as well he should have! ONE! TWO! THRE-Kickout! Rrrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh! LDP: But it’s not over yet and there’s only one minute left to go as well! King: I’ve seen guys loose matches with a minute left on the clock and I’m about to add Dace Night to that list as well damn it. Racing back to his feet, Toxxic hauls Dace up with him and clamps on a Three Quarter Facelock and bounds up the turnbuckles, looking to flip over and drive Dace down on the back of his head with the Intoxxication, but in mid run, he feels the think arms on Horrorcore wrapping around his throat... LDP: Ten seconds and Dace is countering the Intoxxication! ...Dace grabs Toxxic down, pulling him away from the turnbuckles, clamping his arms shut in a vice-like Naked Choke, wrapping his legs around Toxxic’s ribs to keep him from kicking to the ropes and squeezing for dear life as the crowd counts down. Five! Four! Three! Two! One! DING! DING! DING! TAP! TAP! TAP! LDP: Toxxic taps out but it’s a second to late! Bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbooooooooooooooooooooooo! Fuck you Toxxic! Fuck you Toxxic! Fuck You! King: See, I told you Pete. Five More Minutes! Five More Minutes! Five More Minutes! Five More Minutes! Five More Minutes! Funyon: Ladies and Gentlemen, the time limit has expired, this match is a draw! Bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbboooooooooooooooo! Five More Minutes! Five More Minutes! Five More Minutes! Five More Minutes! King: Five more minutes...more time, please. There’s a time limit on a match for a reason and if a guy can’t get the job done in that time then it’s his fault for it. Besides, who’d give Dace Night five more minutes anyway? Five More Minutes! Five More Minutes! Five More Minutes! Five More Minutes! LDP: Apparently the guys in the back would King, as I’m being told there will be an overtime, official or not, there will be more time. King: You’re kidding me....right Pete? Funyon: Ladies and Gentlemen, I have been informed that this match is to receive five minutes overtime effective .....now. Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh! DING, DING, DING! Dace and Toxxic are back on their feet, but it doesn’t last long, with Toxxic’s face still purple from the effects of the choke hold, Dace lumber forwards, blocking a wild blow and spinning Toxxic around and dragging him down into a second Choke Hold and squeezing the air from his body. TAP! TAP! TAP! DING! DING! DING! Yyyyyyyyyyyyaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh! LDP: And Toxxic taps out to the Choke Hold. King: Was that legal...did that even count? LDP: I don’t know if it count’s, but it sure was legal. King: Well, thank god that’s the last we’ll ever see of Dace Night. Dace F’n’ Night! Dace F’n’ Night! Dace F’n’ Night! Dace F’n’ Night! Dace F’n’ Night! Dace F’n’ Night!

The following is a production of the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation... SWF CLUSTERFUCK, SUNDAY, JANUARY 30TH, LIVE FROM THE MCI CENTER IN WASHINGTON, D.C.! (10:00 PM Eastern, 7:00 PM Pacific; check local listings) Send everything to Chuck Woolery It's Clusterfuck time, a time when new champs are born, old champs are dethroned, and people write a shitload of words! Why waste my breath -- here's the card! WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE Sacred v. "The Franchise" Mak Francis -> Despite Toxxic's victory in the #1 Contendership match, CC felt it would be best for Sacred to have a completely fresh opponent instead of having boy wonder Toxxic pull double duty. As such, the SWF honchos had to find a suitable candidate, and Mak Francis, in his second match back from an extended break, was the perfect candidate! These two have never locked up to my knowledge, but when they do, it's going to be HUGE. Rules: Standard. Marker: chirs3 CLUSTERFUCK -> Clusterfuck has a long and storied history. It's produced four winners; Pimp Daddy Sarp, "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens, "TNT" Taylor Nicholas Thompson, and Charlie "Grappler" Matthews. All four of these men have gone on to From the Fire and emerged victorious in their World title shots. This year, twenty men enter, and all of them have their own reasons that this tradition will continue... 1. Wildchild - A perennial underdog due to his size, Wildchild was nevertheless one of the favorites heading into the 2005 Clusterfuck. Adding to the mountain he has to climb is his number one draw, but Wildchild has never backed down from a challenge before, and certainly won't now! 2. Alan Clark - Alan Clark's return to the SWF has been stellar, joining up with the new sheriffs in town, Martial Law! His alliance with Landon Maddix and Todd Cortez has allowed for several chances at tag gold, but in the anything-goes atmosphere of the Clusterfuck, he may get a chance to step out of the shadows and into the golden shower... of light! 3. Johnny Dangerous - Former World Champion Johnny Dangerous faces a tough challenge here, as his quest to return to the mountain's peak begins with a number three draw. Good news for Johnny, though; if his tag partner Wildchild can survive two minutes with Alan Clark, he's going to have an ally in his fight to win the Clusterfuck! 4. Manson - A perennial favorite of the SWF's fans, the former "Mafia" Tommy Gunn is a vast desert of potential. Entering at #4 for the second year in a row, will this be the year he finally breaks out? 5. Danny Dagda - He's been called a bad Scott Hall clone, a bad Tom Flesher clone, and he's yet to actually do anything in the SWF. However, the former SJL World Champion (with a different character...) is hopeful, and if he wins it will be the biggest comeback story of the year! 6. Sean Davis - "The Perfect Storm" Sean Davis has been loyal to his Revolution Zero teammates since day one, even foregoing a World title shot so that his mentor, Toxxic, could get his shot first. Always a favorite due to his size, his career in the SWF, while short, has shown great potential, and he looks to realize it in this year's Clusterfuck! 7. Todd Cortez - "Urban Legend" Todd Cortez has made a new name for himself in recent weeks, surging as the SWF's Hardcore Champion. His alliance with Martial Law and his big win over Dace Night have been the defining moments of his post-Hollywood Boulevard career, and coming into the 2005 Clusterfuck at number seven, he looks to be a strong candidate for the W. 8. Charlie Matthews - Defending Clusterfuck champion Charlie "Grappler" Matthews makes his long-awaited return to the SWF ring, looking to defend his crown and possibly get a second World title reign. An easy favorite, but one has to wonder how his injured neck will affect his performance! 9. Dominic Korgath - Korgath's return was met with relative silence, and his teaming with "The Icon" Max King has gotten off to one of the rockiest starts ever. One must remember, though, Justice and Rule lost three of their first tag matches, and one of them went on to become a World champion, while the other main-evented Genesis IV. However, Max King is quite a domineering personality, and if Korgath survives until #19, one must wonder if he'd be anything other than a pawn in King's chess game... 10. The Boston Strangler - OMG STRANGLER MAKING A COMEBACK! Yes, this is quite out of nowhere, but Strangler feels he can win the Clusterfuck -- and, at #10, who are we to fuck with him? 11. David Cross - Former Tag champion David Cross up and left shortly after his partner Christian Fury, and is making his return to the SWF in the Clusterfuck match. He's seen his potential realized before in the tag ranks, but now he gets the chance to become a singles superstar -- will he seize it? 12. Landon Maddix - Former World champion Landon Maddix was dethroned quickly by Sacred. The last member of Martial Law to enter, Maddix finds himself in prime position to win the 'Fuck if either Cortez or Clark can make it this far. However, Maddix didn't make many friends on his way to the top, and no matter how well-liked he is now, old grudges tend to resurface when a title shot is on the line... 13. Spike Jenkins - Easily one of the most improved SWF wrestlers of this year, Spike Jenkins has bloomed from a musty bud into one of the SWF's most formidable athletes. His extended Cruiserweight Championship reign raises the queston: Is this the year he finally steps out of the cloud of smoke he left behind and into the spotlight? 14. Austin Sly - After an extended period of injury, Austin Sly attempts to shake off the ring rust in the 20-man Clusterfuck. When he steps into the ring, he brings a new attitude with him and tries to parlay his debut Clusterfuck into a gold record at From The Fire! 15. Munich - ... I've got nothin'. Good luck, Munich. 16. Kaine - Surprisingly enough, Kaine's never held the Cruiserweight championship, or any gold for that matter. He's actually a bit of an ugly duckling in the SWF, but you know what they say about the Clusterfuck: It's where SWANS are made! (Just look at TNT.) 17. Ced Ordonez - Ordonez strips off his stripes and backs his lime-green Honda into the Clusterfuck as he tries to show once again why he was one of the most sought-after JL talents and realize his potential! 18. Stryke - After an aborted retirement attempt following last year's Clusterfuck, Stryke was once again bitten by the bug. This year, he's in much better position. Can he turn it to his advantage? 19. Max King - The 260-pound Superior Talent hopes to use the inspiration of the beautiful Kelly at ringside to power him from the advantageous #19 position into the triple threat and to From The Fire! 20. Bloodshed - Alan Clark's psychotic side enters at #20, ready to rumble through the ring... but will the Martial Law member be able to survive after entering at #2? Rules: Two wrestlers start in the ring. Every two minutes, another wrestler will enter. A wrestler is eliminated when they are thrown over the top rope and both feet hit the floor. When it gets down to three men left, the match becomes a triple threat, with the first pin deciding the winner. WORD LIMIT: 15000. This was done for several reasons. CC understands that many writers feel that they simply don't have the time to write a match long enough to compete, and this discourages them. With this word limit, we're trying to level the playing field, so to speak, so that some writers who may have less time will attempt to write instead of preemptively throwing in the towel. If you go over 15,000 words, it had better be the best fucking thing you have ever written, and it had better blow everyone else's match out of the water. Also, if you go too far over the limit, that's a slap in the face and we will auto-job you -- and writing that much only to get autojobbed is not fun. Pay attention. Also -- yes, I know some of you hate the thought of writing this much, and will not write this match no matter what I say. That's cool. This is not something you'll be punished for no-showing. - TMF But if you post anywhere on this board about how you're not writing, or how you're upset with being booked in this match, I'm going to turn the other cheek when you get Bushwhacker Luke'd. Thank you. Marker: Slots 1-5 can send your matches to Ace309. Slots 6-10 can send your matches to Dace59. Slots 11-15 can send your matches to 5_moves_of_doom, and slots 17-20 can send your matches to Justice. Clark, send your match to Tom. Each marker will select the best match from their pool and forward it to me, Chuck Woolery, where I will make the final decision. PURE WRESTLING MATCH Dace Night v. Toxxic -> This match has been brewing for weeks, after Dace Night returned from England on a temporary visa. It looks like it may be Dace's last appearance in the SWF, and he wants to go down with a bang -- and if he gets his way, that bang could take Toxxic out of the picture for a good, long while! Rules: Only three ropes breaks allowed, no punching, 30-minute time limit. You kids know the rules; I won't get into too much depth here. Marker: Ace309

Hey, I don't see you there, chump.