Chuck Woolery

ICTV TITLE MATCH Landon “La Cucaracha” Maddix© v. “The Icon” Max King -> What is the La Cucaracha there for, anyway? WORLD TITLE CONTENDERSHIP Dace Night v. Jamie Drazon -> Push. TAG TEAM TITLE MATCH Hollywood Boulevard (Mike Van Siclen & "Urban Legend" Todd Cortez) © v. Revolution Zero ("Hollywood" Spike Jenkins & Sean Davis) -> Push again, but this one's prefaced with 'I fucking hate everyone who thinks that I'm going to job to Spike Jenkins for the sake of an angle, I mean, I may sound like a stoner but I don't hit the bong that hard'. SINGLES MATCH Toxxic v. Justin Bowers -> Let's say that Toxxic jobs again. USJL TITLE MATCH David Cross v. "The Corona" Vladimir Everheart -> It'd be really funny if everybody who got a USJL title shot from here on out jobbed to Vlad. Really, really funny. SUBMISSIONS “EGO” MATCH “The Notorious” John Duran v. “The Superior One” Tom Flesher -> I'm pulling for Duran, but there's no real doubt in my mind here. SINGLES MATCH “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens v. Ace Lezaire -> Mizzle. CRUSIERWEIGHT TITLE #1 CONTENDERSHIP MATCH The Birdman v. Ryan Dustin -> The Birdman, dad, he flies in any weather. TAG MATCH Nathan Xavier & Manson v. The Masked Man & Munich -> Mask has every right to be pissed here. Let's hope he carries Munich to victory. SINGLES MATCH Candace v. Petey the Irish Penguin -> Gogo Candace. HARDCORE MATCH Bryan Levy v. Ced Ordonez -> Uh, duh.

Happy birthday, Zedly. The big 1-7, man, you can... ... do everything you've been able to do for the past 365 days. Rock on!

Well, SS and I used Jefferson Harding as a ref because I was thinking Jeff Hardy back when I wrote American Gladiators and, well... it snowballed. Mike/Nick Soapdish was Danny's creation (I believe), and a lot of us use him to pay tribute to him. Then there's a list of other guys at the SWF website, if it's up. As for two singles titles... it's been done before, with Charlie Matthews, Thugg, and a few others back in the day. I don't see why you couldn't.

This should get interesting quickly. Before you badmouth the show... read me and Supes' shit. It's good, I promise.

If it's cool with Tony and Eski, a Love Doctors promo. God, this should be fun.

America v. Australia, in what should be a battle for the ages, is on at 7:30 this morning on either Bravo or USA network. Can the United States pull out another breathtaking victory? ... God, I hope so. Go team go.

MAIN EVENT SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE MATCH Toxxic© vs. Johnny Dangerous - Sigh. It's Johnny's first title shot, which means that if he doesn't pull an Ash Ketchum and spend two thousand words on a sugarcoated ending, and if he can put together a very high-quality story for his match instead of "ballsy underdog takes on cocky champion", then he stands a chance of winning. Push. SWF CRUISERWEIGHT TITLE MATCH Tom Flesher© vs. Candace - I love Spike trying to create some sort of dissension in the picks, but his attempt is going to fail like mine did. Flesher takes it. SINGLES MATCH Dace Night vs. Sean Davis - If Davis wins this match, I'm taking full credit for his monster push. SWF USJL #1 CONTENDERSHIP MATCH David Cross vs. Austin Sly - Sly's heart isn't in the game, so we'll say DC. “ROOKIE” SINGLES MATCH Justin Bowers vs. Brian Levy - Levy is the safe choice. SWF ICTV #1 CONTENDERSHIP MATCH Jamie Drazon vs. Andrea Montgomery vs. Manson vs. “The Icon” Max King - I'm going to say King, but any of the four could take it. 'Cept JD, because he sucks. SINGLES MATCH John Duran vs. The Birdman - The Birdman, dad, he flies in any weather. IGNJL EASTERN UNITED STATES TITLE MATCH Petey The Irish Penguin vs. Munich© - Push, edge to Munich. NON-TITLE HARDCORE MATCH Landon Maddix© vs. Todd Cortez© - Boulevard pride says Todd. Go get 'em, tiger.

DATELINE: The morning after Lockdown. We fade in on a close-up of the face of Mike Van Siclen, a faraway gaze on his face as we fade out and can see where he stands -- in line at a breakfast buffet, presumably in the dining room of whatever hotel he stayed at the night before. A gym bag is slung over his shoulder, and Van Siclen's attire on this morning is sickeningly casual, with "Harrison High" sweatpants and a grey wifebeater, but despite the 'just-rolled-out-of-bed' look Van Siclen still sports the SWF Tag Team championship, strapped firmly around his waist. The line moves slowly, and Van Siclen sighs, clutching his plate as he finally arrives at the waffle maker. He grabs a Dixie cup of batter, pouring it onto the griddle and shutting it. He sets the egg timer next to the waffle maker, and settles in, heaving the occasional sigh. This goes on for about a minute, allowing Mike plenty of time to get to know his inner being, to allow the increasingly attractive scent of the waffle to flutter into his nostrils... "MIKE!" ... and there goes that moment. Van Siclen turns back to the waffle maker, opening it and retrieving his little morsel of heaven off the griddle. He moves along the line, grabbing a container of syrup and spreading the gooey golden liquid all over his waffle... "MIKE VAN FUCKING SICLEN!" At this, the people surrounding Mike -- old, overweight businessmen who have to pretend that they don't swear in public when in reality they're probably at home calling their wives "dirty fucking cunts" while they beat them in a drunken haze -- simultaneously turn around and stare at the man yelling. Van Siclen, however, stays focused on his syrup, making sure that it is spread evenly along the golden-brown plains of his waffle... "You son of a BITCH, Mike, don't ignore me!" The man next to Mike taps him on the shoulder. Van Siclen grunts out an acknowledgement, and the man leans over. "I believe he's talking to you." Mike looks over his shoulder, seeing the awakened form of "Urban Legend" Todd Cortez, also clad in his bedtime clothes -- black mesh shorts and a black wifebeater. Van Siclen looks back at the old man. "I believe he is." Van Siclen turns around, holding his waffle-filled plate and walking to the nearest table, taking a seat. Cortez stalks over to the table, but he doesn't sit down -- he prefers to stand up, his irate face staring down at the self-proclaimed Spectacle, who is currently taking a knife and fork to his waffle. Cortez's breathing is heavy, and the Urban Legend is downright livid... but he manages to keep his temper in check for long enough to get a sentence out. "I just watched the tape." No response. Cortez is obviously rattled by this, but Van Siclen merely places a piece of waffle in his mouth, chewing it slowly and looking straight ahead, at Todd's midsection. Todd keeps his temper held back, continuing. "Are you paying attention, you self-centered son of a bitch? I watched the tape, Mike. I know what happened out there, and I want a God-damn explanation." Van Siclen takes another bite of his waffle. Cortez is seething at this point, and the only thing keeping him from strangling his partner is the prospect of one of the already-leery businessmen calling the cops on him. Van Siclen takes another bite, and as he goes to put his fork down Cortez slaps it out of his hands. It clatters on the tile floor, and Mike looks down at it, but Cortez slams his hands on the table, trying to redirect Van Siclen's focus. "NOW, Mike." Van Siclen, unnervingly calm, leans over and picks his fork up off of the floor. He sits up again, putting his fork on the table and looking up at Todd. "Sit down, Todd, you're blocking the Olympic results." Taken aback, Cortez sits down across from Van Siclen, unsure of what to do. Mike looks at the ticker at the bottom and lets out a sigh of relief. "We beat Greece, thank God. We may medal yet." "Did you pay attention to a WORD that I said, Mike?" "Keep your voice down, Todd, Christ. Didn't the streets teach you any manners?" "Don't give me your manners crap, Mike. I'm through with it. I'm through with the manners, I'm through with having to STAND BACK and watch MY two partners beat the HELL out of each other, Mike, and..." "You're through with me?" Cortez stops. His breathing is heavy, but he allows it to slow down, trying to maintain control of his emotions. "I wasn't going to say that." "Why not, Todd? You're sick of manners -- that's my deal, obviously -- you're sick of your two partners beating the hell out of each other, and you're saying all this to me, not your masked associate... what else is there to say but Hollywood Boulevard is through?" "Mike, that's not what I meant." "It's not like I wouldn't deserve it, Todd. I mean, of the two of us, I'm the one that knocked you out last night. I'm the one that hit the Riot Act on the Masked Man, not the other way around. I'm obviously the one with anger management issues here, why not eliminate me? It'll rest easier on your mind than casting off someone who didn't give you a good reason, won't it?" Cortez fumbles around for words for a few moments. The sudden self-pity from Van Siclen is not necessarily a new thing, but it's caught Cortez off guard, and all he can do is ask, "How can you even say that, Mike?" "Because I had all last night to think of exactly what I was going to have to say to you this morning, Todd. While you were slipping in and out of consciousness, I had Pete and Jake drive you to the hotel. And after I did that, I went out for a drive myself, and I spent the entire time wondering to myself, Mike, is this really all your fault?" "It's not, Mike..." "Yeah, I knew you would say that, too. But look at the facts, Todd. With him, you beat Revolution Zero. With me, we lost to Revolution Zero and now find ourselves having to defend these belts on Lockdown against them." "Yeah, but Mike, it wasn't just us against Revolution Zero. Two on two, you know we're the better team." "Against Revolution Zero? I'm better than both of them by myself. But let's keep with the facts. Against Andrea and Birdman, you two pulled out the win. Adding me and Justin Bowers, we fall to them. I can't just look at that as coincidental, Todd." "I understand, Mike, but if you put the two of us in a ring against Andrea and Birdman, I'm sure we'd beat them, too. I know you may have forgotten this, Mike, but recent losses aside we are still the SWF Tag Team champions, and that makes us the best team in the SWF today." "Yes, but Todd... people still doubt that you and I are the best team in the SWF." "Who cares what they think, Mike? You know you're never going to silence all the doubters, and come on, who's better than we are? Revolution Zero?" "No, not Revolution Zero, Todd..." Mike's voice trails off, and Cortez's face falls -- it's dawned on him what Mike is hinting at. "Oh." "Yeah, two-on-two, we can take Revolution Zero. Two-on-two, we can take Andrea and Birdman. I don't have any question in my mind that we could take out any tag team in the SWF today... except one." "42nd Street." "Exactly. You're right -- we are the Tag champions. And theoretically, that makes us the best. But people think that 42nd Street is better than Hollywood Boulevard, and that's because they think the Masked Man is better than Mike Van Siclen." "... so what, Mike? You're still the one with the belt, even if he is..." "... and is he?" Cortez stops again. "What do you mean?" "Is Masked Man a better wrestler than me? Is Masked Man the one that should be holding my belt?" "Mike, you know I can't answer that." "You're right," Van Siclen says, and he snaps his fingers, emotion heavy in his voice as he gets to his feet. "I do know that you can't answer that. I know that the fans, right now, are sitting at home and filling in the Masked Man as their answers, but they can't answer it, either. I know that right now, Todd, I'd love to tell you that I'm better than he is, and deep down I really believe it, but no matter how much confidence I have in myself, even I can't answer that question." Mike sits down again. "But you know how I hate questions, Todd. I want an answer. I want this self-doubt to stop. I know that you -- and you don't have to try to hide it, because it's natural -- but I know that you're doubting me inside your head, and I want those doubts to stop, too. I want an answer to the question of who is better, Mike Van Siclen or the Masked Man. And Todd, I want it soon, before it costs me anything more important than a few moments of self-doubt." There is silence for a few moments, as Van Siclen's words sink in. Neither man talks, and then Mike heaves a deep breath, getting up again. "Look, I'm gonna hit the road, I've still got some thinking to do... if I don't see you before Storm, well, good luck with Landon, okay?" Todd watches as Van Siclen leaves, his gym bag slung over his shoulder as he pushes through the heavy metal hotel doors and into the sticky Phoenix morning. The two may be tag champions together, but Mike Van Siclen and Todd Cortez have never been more distant, and Cortez is powerless to change this -- he knows that Mike has to find the answer on his own. All that Todd can do now is hope for the right one. Fin.

Self-explanatory topic. My vote went to Johnny/Dace... Johnny's really been turning up the intensity lately, and it showed in his match.

Quick comments... - Toxxic calling Johnny the bastard child of Keanu Reeves and Eric Bischoff is fucking money, man. The promo's good on the whole... a lot of crowd heat, which is good for putting Toxxic over as someone who should be hated. I, on the other hand, am beginning to like the character, but I've always felt a bond with the other dickheads in the fed. - Jesus, Mark, you use a lot of !'s in that entrance. Grand Slam having to take time to recover after a simple powerbomb early in the match was very well done, and puts over GSMS' current storyline well. The only thing that I take a bit of trouble with is the moonsault towards the end -- I might've had him (Mark) spike his head on the canvas or something, rather than just landing on Ced's knees. Still, it shows that Mark's reaction time is still off by a couple notches, which is the purpose of the match. Nice work. - Nice four-way from Dustin. That it's rushed is obvious in spots, and Dustin's struggle to beat the ten-count being the focus of the match rather than the in-ring action didn't sit well with me. However, it's a solid match, even if it is a bit rushed. - Ranting and raving Landon is awesome, and Card playing the role of concerned parent works well too. I'm really, really looking forward to Card taking Landon outside, pulling a branch off a tree and thoroughly beating him with it for a good three thousand words. - JD writes a righteously nasty hardcore affair. I love it. - Everheart writes a nice match to win the USJL title. My criticisms are simple -- more emphasis on the moves you're using. At one point you have Vlad looking for the Northern Lights Bomb, but there's nothing to make that any different from the brawling you have to start the match. Use the big spots to your advantage and make them mean something more than "Spot #17", and you'll hold onto the belt for a long time. - King/Zenon gets promo of the night honors in a landslide, a healthy showcase for the hatred King feels towards Mark. I'm loving this angle, and if it doesn't lead to Mark/Toxxic for the World title I will be thoroughly disappointed. - Johnny looks to work the strong style in his match, and in my opinion it plays very well. The impact of all the strikes is well done, it's a well-paced match with a strong ending. The handshake finish isn't exactly my bag, but over-the-top face finishes never have been, and I'll admit that it works in this instance. MotN, although this night was pretty weak, match-wise. - Standard Maddix affair. A very well-written submissions match, though it's obvious that Landon isn't totally comfortable with this environment he plays it well. - Again, God damn, whoever wrote this next match used a lot of exclamation points for the entrances. And the match ends quickly, as this sort of match should, with Davis getting the questionable victory. I would've liked to see it go longer and have Sean get in more of a beating on Tom, but the way it was written was still very good. - Me, TMM and Todd's match. Please comment. - And Megan Skye promo that goes over my head. I like the angle, Landon -- now, please let this promo be explained soon. How does Dace do this every week? Who knows. Not our best work, but a solid show that sets up a monster Storm card.

Panther has everything needed to be the World champion right now, as far as I'm concerned, and I think he's probably the only person who can say that he has everything on lock, right now. If Zack were to hand me that list and say, "Who should I drop it to?", Panther would be my guy.

You know what we should call one show? The OAOAST Coca-Cola Wrestling Extravaganza. Aces, baby. You can have Calvin on the PPV poster.

Don't worry, WC, Spike's been trying to get over on somebody on the boards or in chat for the past month or so. Has he succeeded? *checks* Well, he beat me once, but that match was pure Jackie from what I'm told. Decide for yourself. - Mike "however, my answer is a resounding 'no', and I'm only saying that because I put it between my kayfabe first and last name" Van Siclen

Judge, I know you're looking at this and I love you, man, but if I don't get stats for your guy soon, he's going to be wearing a worm costume to the ring, and I'll be doing a prematch vignette where the Birdman eats him. Thanks.

SIX-MAN MAIN EVENT OF DOOM The Masked Man, Mike Van Siclen, and Todd Cortez vs. Andrea Montgomery, The Birdman, and Justin Bowers -> Well, uh, I suppose I shouldn't predict my own matches, but TMM and Zack > Birdman and Drea, and I > Judge (duh), so you do the math. SPECIAL GUEST REFEREE WACKINESS “The Superior One” Tom Flesher vs. Sean Davis Guest Referee: “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins -> While it'd send chills up my spine to see Flesher go all Edwin-on-Lerrin-and-JD here... I'm thinking Davis wins, no matter who writes the match. Plus, IRL I think Taamo has a crush on Jackie, and is looking to secure her love in return. (Is he serious?) That's for you to decide. SUBMISSION MATCH OH MY Landon Maddix vs. Ace Lezaire -> Hm... Landon. RECOVERY MATCH Dace Night vs. Johnny Dangerous -> Let's go with Johnny, for no reason in particular. USJL TITLE MATCH “The Corona” Vladimir Everheart vs. Manson© -> Let's hope Manson gives the title some credibility. Then let's look at the world pessimistically and say Aces takes it. HARDCORE BOUT Jamie Drazon vs. Candace -> Candace, for no particular reason. FOUR-MAN THREE-PHASE ELIMINATION MATCH Ryan Dustin vs. David Cross vs. Edward James vs. Nathan Xavier -> If Jake takes Sly's advice, he should have no trouble winning this one. OPENING SINGLES MATCH OF DEATH Ced Ordonez vs. “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens -> Let's say Mark.

Jake, without even reading it I can point out one thing. Space it OUT, man. Having commentary and action all in one long-ass paragraph is no fun to read, and can detract from big moments in your match. At the very least, adhere to basic grammar and keep your commentary seperate from the action.

I can't be the only one who was pulling for a Tim to hook up with Valerie, can I? Anyway... I liked this reveal a lot more than the last one. Matt's was more heartwarming, but this one flowed a lot better... last year's, with the whole "You're an actor... no, you're an actor" thing got really confusing, but this one cut right to the chase.

The lack of love for Spellbound is... well, spellbinding. It takes a very boring subject (a spelling bee? come on) and makes it both engaging and entertaining. Seriously, that is probably my example of THE perfect documentary, and one that everyone should definitely check out. EDIT: Yeah, so he said it in the first post. It's really worth repeating.

Okay, to answer the titles on the line question... if by some ridiculous stroke of luck you manage to beat us, you'll get a shot on the next Lockdown. And if you don't... well, I won't be surprised. Cheers. EDIT: Since Thoth didn't clarify in the initial post, and Zedly didn't clarify it in his edit, Zack and I are operating under the assumption that the titles are not on the line. Since we want to start writing now, and we'd also like for there to be some sort of point to this tag match, we're going to throw those stips up as well because, well, we can. Why Lockdown? Because we have plans for the next two shows. TNT, Z, there's going to be PMs awaiting in your box shortly.

Pfft, he was riding my coattails to tag team gold and glory in the WF FIRST, so NYAH. ...nyah. Awesome show, although I'm questioning having two guys without set handlers as tag champs, but I'm interested to see how it works out.

Yeah, so I'm kind-of back-to-school shopping, and as a result I'm looking for cool/sweet/rad/chill/gnar t-shirts. Preferably with a link to a site, and very preferably less than $25 including shipping, although I feel even that is steep and would like stuff under $20. I've found a few already... The Olive Green Che Guevara shirt -- $23 including shipping, and I'm not totally sure that it won't be passe come September, but I dig the shirt so it's all good. Ghostly International black-on-black shirt -- $18 including shipping for what is (I feel) an awesome logo and a pretty sweet shirt, so it's worthwhile. NY Rock shirt -- $22 including shipping. It's really the bazooka joe pose that sells the shirt for me. So yeah. Have any of you guys found good t-shirts online?

Not enough love for Hot Fuss in here, but I'm loving that album right now, so that's probably my pick, with College Dropout close behind.

I'm going to go against Dace and say that the straight-up tag action in 42nd Street/Flip Flop eclipsed the brutal clusterfuckery of Toxx/Janus/Tom. Simplicity is key in my decision, so count this as a vote for 42nd Street/Flip Flop.

*RING!* *RING!* *RING!* *RING!* *RING!* *RING!* *beep* "Hello, you've reached the Masked Man. I am unavailable for contact at this moment, but please leave a message and I will respond in kind." "After the tone, please leave a message. When you're done, please press the pound key, or simply hang up." *beep* "I know you're fucking there, Masked Man. You're not going to run all over the place like some fugitive from justice and expect me to catch you. All I'm asking is that you drop my title off at the Holiday Inn at Denver -- I'm in room 207, and I'd greatly appreciate it if you dropped it off there. If not, I know your ass will be at Storm, because I already called up everybody with a modicum of authority in the fed, and every last one of them told me that you'd be fired if you weren't there. So I'll expect the belt at my room by Friday, and if it's not there -- then I'll see your ass at Storm, buddy." *beep* Mike Van Siclen shuts his cell phone, looking down at his lunch -- shady diner food, conveniently enough from the shady Aguilar Diner in Aguilar, Colorado. Conspicuous in his absence in the booth is Todd Cortez, who eschewed a brotherly car trip for a quicker, more relaxed plane ride. The Masked Man... nobody is quite sure where he is, least of all Mike Van Siclen, who has been chasing him seemingly since after the tag team title match. --- FLASHBACK: Ground Zero, backstage, minutes after the 42nd Street/Flip Flop match. "MASK!" The form of Mike Van Siclen is charging down a hallway, chasing after a man in a mask with a gleaming gold belt over his shoulder. The man runs out into a parking garage, pulling a Dukes of Hazzard and jumping in through the passengers' window of a VW Beetle, which proceeds to speed off. Van Siclen stares at the plates for a few moments, committing them to memory... "IAMMASK" ... before turning around, kicking the bumper of a nearby Chevy Cavalier before jumping into his own ride and speeding off in the direction of the Beetle. --- "You're not very hungry for such a big man." Van Siclen snaps out of it, looking up at the tiny blonde waitress looking down at him. He runs a hand through his blonde hair, which hangs loose, and then looks back up at the waitress. "Can I borrow a hair elastic?" The waitress smiles warmly and takes a bright pink elastic out of her pocket, handing it to the Spectacle. Van Siclen takes it, noticeably not smiling as he ties back his hair in a ponytail. He finally cracks a smile, looking up at her. "It's easier to control like this, you know." The waitress looks at Mike. "Yes, I know." "You got a minute?" "Have you looked around this place?" Van Siclen takes the time to look around... the Aguilar Diner is nearly deserted. Mike looks back at the waitress. "I guess you do. Mind taking a seat?" The waitress sits down, eyeing Van Siclen as he begins speaking. "Do you think I'm a bad person? Might I have done something to anger the Gods at some point? Do I strike you as a man who deserves to have his life made a living hell?" The waitress thinks the question over, and then looks back at him. "No, I guess not." Mike smiles again. "Obviously you're not a wrestling fan. I just spent my Sunday night losing to a nobody, then getting told I wasn't good enough for my partner, but that I could have my belt back anyway. And now, Tuesday afternoon, when I should have my belt back -- well, I don't, as you can see." "Why do you care so much about a belt?" "Do you have a husband?" "What?" "I asked if you had a husband." "No, I don't, I'm twenty." "A boyfriend?" "Well, yes..." "See, to me, the belt is like a girlfriend. You have to court it for a while, flirt with it, come close to getting with it for a while. And then, when you get your chance -- boom, you hook up with it, and suddenly you're together. And then some other guys come along and try to step to your woman, so you beat them up until they give up, and you keep your woman as long as possible until finally the other guys come along and take it back." "... uh huh." "Right. So what I'm dealing with now is the equivalent of my girlfriend -- or, I guess, your boyfriend -- cheating on you twice, and now running away with him. Do you understand how I'm feeling now?" "Not really." Van Siclen sighs. "I'm hurting, girl. I'm going through withdrawl. I go to Hawaii to try and get some good medicine in my system, and instead I'm dealing with my partner hating me, a freak in a mask stealing my gir... belt, and then there's the whole thing with Wildchild still hanging over my head... you must have problems, girl, and I know it because we all have problems. I used to be SJL Heavyweight Champion, girl, and that was a struggle because you'd have five or six guys chasing after you. But never before have I had this many people who had a problem with Mike Van Siclen the person rather than Mike Van Siclen the champion." "Well, what's the difference?" "When people have a problem with you, the champion, they just want to beat you." "And when they have a problem with the person?" "They want you dead. And I am not exaggerating when I say that." Van Siclen pulls out his wallet and throws a fifty on the table. He stands up, headed out to his car, and calls back over his shoulder -- "Keep the change." --- *RING!* *RING!* *RING!* *RING!* *RING!* *RING!* *beep* "Hello, you've reached the Masked Man. I am unavailable for contact at this moment, but please leave a message and I will respond in kind." "After the tone, please leave a message. When you're done, please press the pound key, or simply hang up." *beep* "I'm coming for my title, Masked Man. And if you get in my way, I'm coming for you, too." *beep*

Okay, now that I think about it I think I was told that was the plan, but then the wires got crossed somewhere or... blah, I don't know. I don't know why Jay was assigned to a match he wasn't even in -- that makes little sense to me, but hindsight is twenty/twenty, I suppose. I did like the idea, though. But one of us definitely should have written it.