Chuck Woolery

“Ladies and gentlemen,” says Longdogger Pete in a very somber voice, “eleven days ago, Scott Pretzler took on the Crimson Skull in what was intended to be a routine match. However, events took a turn for the worst when Skull, frustrated by his defeat, assaulted Pretzler after the final bell had sounded. What followed was one of the most heinous acts I have ever witnessed in this business.” “It was truly despicable,” King agrees. “Horrific.” “After more than a week, we finally have news on Pretzler’s condition. Before we update you, I’d like to issue a warning: the footage you are about to see is graphic and disturbing. If you’re faint of heart, now would be an ideal time for a trip to the lavatory.” =============== ‘FUCK HIM UP SKU-ULL, FUCK HIM UP!’ The footage is from Smarkdown, September 7, 2005. Now Crimson Skull hauls Pretzler to his feet a final time. With a grunt, he muscles the Canadian into a military press and stomps to the edge of the ring. Amongst the audience, a tone of disbelief is in the air. Surely he wouldn’t… “No…” King breathes. But he does. With a mighty heave, he tosses Pretzler over the top rope. Through the air. And halfway over the table. The lower portion of his body is driven through the wood with a satisfying crunch… while the upper half lands flat on the arena floor, shoulder-first, with an impact that is nothing short of sickening. *SMACK!* ‘HO-LY SHIT!’ ‘HO-LY SHIT!’ ‘HO-LY SHHHHHhhhhhhh…’ As the audience’s chant fades into horrified disbelief, the color drains from the video feed. The footage is slowed to half-speed, zoomed in on Pretzler’s face as it contorts in agony. His eyes are shut tight, mouth twisted, teeth clenched. His right arm is bent at a dreadful angle, emphasized by a red circle illustrated on-screen. Slowly, his mouth opens in a moan. - - - - - - - - - - - - - Dr. Clarence Boddicker, orthopedic surgeon, walks down the short hallway to his office. He is a man in his forties, dark-haired, of medium height, with beady eyes behind a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. He is wearing his white labcoat as usual, although he will not be operating today. The camera pulls back, showing a blond-haired gentleman following him, right arm in a sling. As they round a corner and Dr. Boddicker reaches for the doorknob, the man’s identity becomes clear. It is Scott Pretzler. The doctor enters his office. It is occupied; four scantily clad young women are seated in front of a projection screen, pointing at the X-ray image and giggling. “Bitches leave.” At Boddicker’s gruff command, the women exit. The doctor gestures for Pretzler to be seated. He grabs a wooden pointer from his desk and aims it at the screen. “Your arm was injured in two places, Mr. Pretzler,” he explains. “Here-“ he points to an area near the Critic’s collarbone “-and here-“ and he moves the pointer down a few inches. Pretzler studies the display and nods. “You have a separated shoulder and a torn rotator cuff. I don’t know if you’re aware of the seriousness of these injuries-“ “Doctor,” the young Canadian interrupts, “how could you be so presumptuous? I make a life’s work out of causing injury. It’s my job, in quite a literal sense. Of course I know what it means to have a torn rotator cuff.” “Well… in any event, it’s bad news. The actual separation has been repaired, but there is severe damage to the ligaments that will take weeks to begin healing. And your rotator cuff - as you said, you understand how severe it can be. In your case…” He seems reluctant to go on. “Don’t sugarcoat it, doctor. That’s the last thing I need. I fell twelve feet through a wooden table just like that one-“ he points to a table conveniently situated across the room “-onto my side, and it hurt. It hurt a Hell of a lot. Now tell me how soon I can go and put the fucker who did it to me in a coma.” Dr. Boddicker winces at this statement, partly from the profanity and partly because of the news he must deliver. “You see… well, it all depends on you, really. If you train hard - in moderation, that is - and spend the appropriate amount of time-“ “How long?” Pretzler stands up abruptly, having had enough of the doctor’s evasions. “It could be anywhere from two to six months.” Pretzler is about to reply, but his words fade to nothingness as the implications sink in. He sits, slowly. “Two to six months?” Boddicker purses his lips. “Of course, there are other factors to consider. Sleep, nutrition - the human body is an amazing thing, really… we’ll prescribe you with the proper steroids…” “Excuse me? Never. I will never become one of them - those juice freaks. Not me.” “It’s a necessary part of your convalescence, Mr. Pretzler. If you want to return as soon as possible, there’s no other option.” “And no sooner than two months from now?” “As I said, the body is unpredictable - no, you could be back sooner, or later than six months, if you re-injure yourself in training or some other factor comes into play. It really does depend on you.” There is a long silence. Pretzler stands and reluctantly offers the doctor his (left) hand. “I look forward to working with you, Doctor. Make no mistake: I will be back as soon as humanly possible - no, sooner - and when I return, the wrestling world will be brought to its knees.” Realizing that he is still holding the doctor’s hand - and nearly crushing it - Pretzler lets go. “You really ought to be on your way, Mr. Pretzler,” says Boddicker. “I’ve got other business to attend to. Calls I have to make.” “Certainly. But you heard it first: I will take the SWF by storm. What I’ve done already will be a mere prelude to the havoc I unleash.” “Yes, well, I really must-“ “Anyone who opposes me will be ground to dust. Do you hear me?” “Just give me my fucking phone call.” ... Thomas Flesher walks the halls of the Garden, somewhat despondent. The employees that walk by know better than to disturb the man, but the same can’t be said for Wes Davenport, who comes sprinting up to the commissioner in absolute horror. “Thomas! Flesher! Thomas Flesher!” He excitedly cries, trying his best to calm down and compose himself. “Look, it’s a funny thing…” Wes is met with a cold look from Tom, who could care less what the actor has to say. “What funny thing would that be?” “Well, it seems as though my movie deal, has… hit a bit of a snag, if you will.” “A bit of a snag, hmmm?” Tom suddenly perks up, only slightly. “Yes, a snag…” Wes replies, dread heard in his voice. “Apparently the movie isn’t… exactly… as you would say… in a matter of speaking…” “… Isn’t going to happen?” Tom responds helpfully. “I know it’s rather short notice, but with no movie, I don’t need to be here! So, hahaha, I’ll just get out of your hair, and we’ll just forget I ever came here.” Wes decides that a quick and stealthy exit is in order as he turns around to escape his own personal hell, but Flesher has other ideas. “It’s quite a shame that you’ll be leaving us so soon.” Wes doesn’t even stop as he replies in the distance, “Sorry I can’t stay, but I have many important… I have to get to the… bye now!” … “You know,” Flesher says coolly, “I’m going to have to hold you to that contract.” … Wes Davenport stops dead in his tracks, his earlier transgressions suddenly coming back to bite him in the ass. He slowly turns back around, finding Flesher already walking the other way. “So, anyway, I guess we’ll be seeing you on Monday. Come see my secretary, and we’ll see if we can’t find something for you to do.” Davenport is flabbergasted, his mouth wide open in shock. “What… just happened?” Suddenly, an SWF road agent comes running up to the actor. “Wes Davenport?” He asks, waiting a moment for the former actor to recover. “Uh… hum… yes, that’s me, I think.” “Your limousine’s been stolen. Have a nice night.” Wes puts his hand against the wall, pinching himself with his opposite hand, wishing this were all just a dream. Barry then appears, seemingly out of nowhere. “Wes, your cat just died.” … … … “Fluffy?”

"Fans, what you're about to see is more than a wrestling match. It's more than a grudge match. What you're going to see next is a battle, a fight, a war to settle a score. Two of the SWF's greatest superstars, who for the last few months have had a relationship that has taken more twists and turns than your standard soap opera." Longdogger Pete pauses after his introduction to the next contest, looking over to his broadcast partner, Suicide King, for his take on the situation. "Peter, Landon Maddix and Todd Cortez were friends. They were partners. SWF World Tag Team Championship partners. Todd Cortez actually managed to have Landon Maddix and Alan Clark on the same page, for chrissakes! Martial Law was on their way to establishing themselves as one of the legendary forces in the SWF tag ranks, and it all came crashing down with Landon's ego when a woman said that fatal word...no." "Truer words have never been spoken. Landon Maddix, as we all know, is a proud man. Scratch that, he's an egotistical SOB. I'm not going to pull punches here. He couldn't handle the fact that Megan wanted to be with Todd Cortez. He couldn't handle the fact that love could exist between two people. He wanted something he couldn't have, and it ate away at him, and it caused him to turn his back on his friend, Todd Cortez." "Not only did he turn his back on Cortez, but he managed to eek out a victory in that Casino Brawl, a match that Todd had the experience in. Since then, Landon has hid behind his words, making threats but taking his time in confronting Cortez again. Tonight, actually, right now, the wait is over. Cortez and Maddix are going to go to war, and it happens right now." PREPARE FOR LANDON~! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! Incubus' "Megalomaniac" is cued up, and through the curtain comes Landon Maddix, still looking energized despite the concern that he has to have about what is about to take place. Landon races from side to side on the stage, posing for the crowd despite their obvious objections to him, while Funyon announces his presence. "Ladies and gentlemen, this next contest is scheduled for one fall! Approaching the ring at this time, hailing from Huron, South Dakota...tonight he weighs in at two hundred, twenty two pounds...he is LA CUCAAAAAAA-RAAAA-CHAAAAAAAAAAAA, LAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANDON MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAADDIXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX!" Landon hops up on the apron, his long leather coat sailing in the wind as he leaps up. Landon steps through the ropes and removes the jacket, revealing his physique to the crowd. Maddix tosses the jacket at referee Sexton Hardcastle and then turns away, moving towards the corner so that he can climb up onto the ropes and pose for his non-supporters. The boos continue, until Maddix's music is cut, and quickly replaced by the catchy beat of Mos Def's "Oh No". The crowd erupts as their beloved grappler (well, besides Charlie Matthews, because who doesn't love him?) sets foot on the stage, his eyes peering over the rim of his sunglasses upwards towards the ring, where Landon Maddix waits for the arrival of his hated rival. Megan stands just a few steps behind her beau, supportive of him but resentful of how this whole situation has unfolded before everyone's eyes. Cortez stands tall atop the stage area, slowly pulling his sunglasses off to reveal his eyes, which are fixated on his former tag team partner. Cortez removes his bulletproof vest just as slowly, dropping it at his side as he remains calm, still staring holes through Maddix from across the arena... ...and then IT'S ON~! Megan looks on as Cortez bolts from the stage and races down the aisle, as Madison Square Garden shakes thanks to the loud, bellowing reaction of the fans, who have arrived in droves to see Landon Maddix get what's been coming to him for months now! Cortez slides into the ring and quickly comes up to his feet, but Landon just as quickly backsteps, ducking out through the ropes and out to the floor! He rounds the corner, but Cortez leaps through the ropes and out to the floor himself, causing Landon to retreat once again! He walks backwards, holding up his hands and begging Todd for some patience and calmness, but Cortez will have none of it as he stalks his former SWF Tag Team Championship partner. "Poor Todd didn't even get an entrance, as Funyon knew what was best and got the hell out of there!" observes Suicide King. "He threatened to break his neck tonight, but I don't think anyone has ever had that happen while jogging." "Supposedly this is all part of the, *ahem*, master plan of Landon Maddix." "Well, then you want to tell me what the hell he was thinking when he got into this suicide feud with Todd Cortez?" "The man's not thinking with the head attatched to his neck, if you catch my drift." As Cortez continues to give chase to Landon, Megan reaches ringside, and the sight of his "crush" takes Landon's eyes off Cortez for a split second, and that's all Todd needs to floor him with a right hand! Landon goes down instantly, but doesn't stay down, as Todd brings him back to his feet. Trapped in a facelock, Landon has no defense as Todd smashes his knee into him repeatedly, then ducks low and grabs Landon by the waist, letting out a war cry as he forces Landon backwards into the security railing! As Landon slouches down to the floor, Cortez leans over him, wailing on Landon with lefts and rights, until referee Sexton Hardcastle ducks out to the floor and grabs Todd by the arm in mid-swing, then orders him into the ring so that he can ring the bell and get the match started officially. "Sexton Hardcastle is laying down the law, and I've got a sinking feeling that he should just give up on doing so right now." "I'm inclined to agree. Just let these two have at it. We're way past the boiling point in this feud." Cortez stares the referee down, but Hardcastle holds his ground and ushers Cortez to the ring, making sure the Urban Legend enters through the ropes before he does. Cortez protests Hardcastle's choice to break up the brawl, but Sexton warns him to stay put, and they both await Maddix's entrance into the squared circle. "I know it's not Hardcastle's intention to give Maddix a breather, but Landon has got to be thanking his lucky stars for the intervention of one of the SWF's finest." Megan watches on from ringside as a dazed Landon staggers towards the ring and rolls himself under the bottom rope. He gets to his feet, and once he does Hardcastle calls for the bell. As soon as the first "ding" echoes through MSG, Cortez fires towards Landon like a rocket, taking him off his feet and down to the canvas! He mounts Maddix's shoulders, again hammering on him with a vicious ground and pound, as Landon shields himself from the blows as best he can. Cortez then switches gears, pulling Landon up to his feet and hurling him towards the corner with an Irish whip, and Landon collides so hard that he rebounds out of the corner, into the waiting arms of Cortez, who pushes Landon up over his head before tossing him to the canvas with a military press bodyslam! Landon sits up and groans in pain, his back having taken the brunt of the punishment thus far, and it continues to do so as Cortez comes across the ring and delivers a running soccer kick to his back, causing a louder, more agonizing yell! As Landon goes to get up, Cortez encourages him to do so in a not so friendly way, slapping him across the back of the head. "C'mon, Maddix. C'mon...you got time for me now? Huh? You got time for me now?" Cortez questions Maddix, who up until this night, had been avoiding his former friend at all costs, despite having us believe otherwise. Todd takes him by the wrist and goes to whip him across the ring, but Maddix manages to counter at the last second. Todd takes the whip into the ropes, but as he rebounds he sees Maddix make the elementary mistake of putting his head down, so Todd returns him to a vertical position by delivering a kick to Landon's chin! As soon as Landon's body shoots upwards, Todd grabs him by the waist and lifts him off his feet, driving his knee up into the home of "Little Landon"! "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!" Landon reels back, hunched over and clutching his little friend, the sight of which is both pain-inducing and hilarious. Knowing it had its desired effect, Cortez reels him in again, and drops Landon with a second inverted atomic drop! "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!" The crowd is feeling it, and so is Landon, albeit in a very different, more painful way! Cortez brings Landon up off the mat and pulls him into a standing headscissors, which brings a premature roar out of the crowd, as they sense a RIOT ACT PLUS~! Whether that was Todd's intent or not we'll never know, as Landon Maddix quickly pulls himself out of the headscissors and rolls out of the ring, letting hiimself drop to the floor and then scurry backwards, sitting himself against the guardrail while still favoring his nether region! "Cortez may have been going for his trademark finisher just then, but something inside tells me that he wants to drag this out as long as he can and make Landon suffer, just like that weasly son of a bitch has done to he and Megan the last several months!" "Damn Pete, you're actually tolerable when you're angry!" Cortez immediately exits the ring to go after his nemesis, who sits against the guardrail and makes "time out" hand motions. Todd doesn't even blink, as the thought of mercy is not one that has crossed his mind tonight. He approaches Landon, but as soon as he's within striking distance, Landon pops up off the floor and lunges over the railing, stealing a beer from a fan and tossing it into the face of Cortez! "That's like throwing holy water at a vampire!" Cortez is momentarily blinded by the alcoholic beverage that some poor sap just paid about $7 for, only to have it stolen from him and used by Maddix. With Todd taken off his game, Landon strikes, grabbing Todd by the head and pulling him close, then sinks his teeth into his forehead! "What was that you were saying about vampires, Pete?" "He's biting him! C'mon Hardcastle, do your job!" The crowd is unanimous in their booing, as Cortez tries to break free, but Landon continues to dig his teeth into the forehead of his rival. Hardcastle sees what's going on and leaps out of the ring, struggling to pull Landon off Todd. He finally succeeds, and Landon throws his hands up in surrender, then goes right back on the attack, flooring Todd with a lariat to the back of the head! Maddix then puts the boots to his former partner, stomping away at him as he lay on the floor. Hardcastle tells Landon to bring it back to the ring, and Landon shockingly listens to the official, backing away from Cortez...then delivers a soccer kick to the ribs as Todd starts to push himself up! Cortez crumbles back down to the canvas, and Maddix rolls in under the bottom rope, coming up on one knee and extending his arms in a cocky pose that does nothing but draw more hatred from the vocal New Yorkers. "He spent the first five minutes of the contest running like a track star, but he does one cheap tactic and he wants to be showered with praise. This guy's ego is out of control." Maddix stands up and looks over at Megan, blowing her a kiss which she sneers at. Maddix walks over to the ropes and grabs Todd by the head, pulling him in through the ropes and then nailing him with a European uppercut that sends him falling against the ropes. Maddix then takes Todd and sends him to the far side, but when Maddix leaps into the air for a dropkick, he has no target to hit, as Cortez clings to the ropes! Maddix crashes to the canvas, and Cortez comes over and grabs his legs, holding them wide open for a blatant stomp to the nads that has Landon moaning in agony! Cortez follows up by backing into the ropes and bouncing back with a basement dropkick to the jaw of his enemy, and Maddix quickly rolls away before any more punishment can be dished out. "Look at him trying to escape again, the coward!" Suicide King's call is correct, as Landon tries rolling out of the ring yet again, only to have his ankle caught by Cortez! Maddix is dragged across the canvas to the middle of the ring, and the streetfighter, who has noticeable teeth marks and small drops of blood covering his forehead, stands over him. Cortez reaches down and yanks on Landon's prized blonde hair and pulls his head up with it, then takes his free arm and unleashes a vicious crossface shot to La Cucaracha! Landon's head drops, but Cortez tugs on the hair, bringing Landon all the way up to his feet, then takes him by the head and biels him into the corner! Cortez rushes in, but Landon shakes the cobwebs loose just in time and tucks his head, elevating Cortez up and over the ropes...and out to the apron! Cortez manages to land on his feet, and he yanks on Landon's hair yet again, jerking him down to the canvas before leaping from the apron onto the top rope and springboarding into the ring with a double stomp, dropping his full body weight on Landon's sternum! "It'll be hard for Maddix to run his mouth when he's busy gasping for breath after that move!" Cortez walks around the ring and stomps his feet, working both himself and the crowd up as Megan looks on, smiling as her beau keeps the advantage. Landon rolls onto his side, but once again Cortez brings the braggart to his feet, then cocks his arm back and takes a swing at Landon's chest... SMACK~! The crowd immediately responds with a "WHOO!", as Landon reels, but is spun back around so that he's facing Todd, who again cocks his arm back. SMACK~! "WHOO!" Landon's chest begins to redden, as Cortez takes his arm and, well... SMACK~! "WHOO!" Maddix reels, and Cortez takes him by the arm and attempts to propel him towards the ropes, but Landon swings around and counters the whip, then yanks on the back of Todd's wifebeater and pulls him to the canvas! Still holding his arm, Landon then scissors it with his legs and drops to the mat, locking Cortez in an armbar! Todd immediately shifts his body towards the ropes, stretching his free arm out with the hopes of grabbing the ropes and causing Landon to have to break the submission...and he succeeds! Hardcastle orders Landon to get up and release the hold, which Maddix is not too pleased with. After some hesitation, Landon lets go, then stands up. He runs his hands through his hair as he watches Cortez pick himself up, then quickly moves towards Todd, again going for the arm, but as he tries to take Todd to the mat with an armbar, Cortez rolls through with the move! Cortez comes up and turns around, grabbing Landon by his head and then simply tosses him across the ring! Cortez braces himself, ready to charge as Landon whines about a hair pull, but as soon as he sees Todd running he drops back to the canvas and slides out of the ring! "You know how Landon had told Todd he'd get him when he was ready? I don't think he ever intended on truly being ready." "Gee, ya THINK?" Maddix stomps and pouts at ringside, telling the fans to shut up as they hurl obsecnities at him. Maddix turns around and looks up into the ring, but the first thing he sees is nothing but a blur, as Todd races across the ring and dives through the ropes, crashing into Landon Maddix with a beautiful tope~! "Todd Cortez just sacrificed himself to level Landon Maddix with a great high impact move, and maybe now Landon will try to fight back rather than run away from everything he's brought upon himself!" The capacity crowd inside Madison Square Garden erupts as Cortez's body collides with Maddix, putting both of them on the floor at ringside. Cortez is dazed by his own move, but stands up and looks to the crowd as he brushes himself off, then dives back down to the floor, rolling Landon onto his back and grabbing him by the neck, ramming the back of his head into the ground! Todd then starts clubbing Landon with forearms, and Maddix weakly tries to cover up, but when he does Todd simply pulls him up to his feet and takes his head and smashes it into the apron! Maddix stumbles around, but Todd shoves him up onto the apron and back into the ring. Cortez follows and pulls Landon up off the canvas, then takes him right back down as he snaps him back with a Russian legsweep, then rolls backwards to his feet and hits the ropes, getting some momentum behind him as he drops a leg across Landon's throat! Todd then rises up and runs the ropes again, and this time leaps up and comes down with a kneedrop to Landon's forehead, then stretches out across Landon and hooks a leg, going for the first pinfall of the contest! ONE! T-KICKOUT! "He might not necessarily want to fight, but Landon Maddix isn't going to go down without a fight." says Longdogger Pete. "Call me crazy, but I don't think Cortez wants victory to come easily. He wants to inflict pain and punishment on Landon like never before. Maddix should thank his lucky stars this isn't a hardcore match!" Todd brings Landon up with him, but Maddix shoves Cortez away from him, not wanting him to keep control. Todd crashes into the corner, so Maddix charges in, but Cortez moves off to the side, allowing him to cra...NO! Maddix puts the brakes on in the nick of time, then turns to go after Cortez...AND GETS CAUGHT WITH A SUPERKI-NO! Maddix manages to catch the foot of Cortez, and keeps him hopping around the ring, then delivers a blatant low kick that drops Cortez to his knees! Landon then hits the ropes, connecting with a dropkick to the back of Todd's head! Cortez rolls around, but Landon goes and picks him right up, tearing the wifebeater off of him and then wrapping it around his throat! Hardcastle springs into action, warning Maddix that he needs to release the choke NOW, or else risk disqualification. Landon contemplates it for a moment, then releases the hold, slapping Cortez across the back of the head afterwards! "You're lucky, bitch!" Maddix tosses the wifebeater out of the ring, then lifts Cortez up, planting him with a quick backdrop suplex! Landon comes up and brings Todd with him, holding him in a front facelock and then lifting him up and dropping him with a vertical suplex, but keeps ahold of Cortez as he swings to his feet and brings Todd up, then spins around him and hooks him by the waist, bringing him down on the back of his head and neck with a German Suplex! Landon keeps the bridge applied, as Hardcastle drops to the mat to make the count... ONE! TW-NO! ...but Cortez throws his shoulder up to thwart the three count! "A nice chain of suplexes there by Maddix, but it's still not enough to keep the Urban Legend down!" Maddix releases the bridge and gets up, clobbering Todd across the back of the neck with a forearm as he comes up to his feet. Maddix then takes Todd by the head and twists at the neck, spinning him around for a neckbreaker...but Cortez manages to counter by hooking Landon's arms and pulling him to the canvas with a backslide! ONE! TW-NO! Maddix rolls through, breaking the pin, and in a flash he grabs Todd's head as he's coming up and spikes him with a DDT! "Cortez came down hard on that one, and it seems as though Landon is starting to focus on the neck." "That's his body part of choice." "Well, actually I'd think that given the whole ordeal with Megan that he's got certain other body parts in mind, Peter." "I meant it's what he usually targets on his opponents!" "Oh. Of course you did! I knew that!" Maddix immediately sits Cortez up and sits behind him, then applies a full nelson as he scissors his legs around Todd's body. Cortez cringes as Maddix presses his hands down, forcing Cortez's neck forward in an effort to strain and weaken it, making him prone for Landon's Land of Nod submission. Hardcastle watches closely, but Megan Skye watches on closer than any fan or official in the building, as she is concerned with the well-being of her love. "Poor Megan. She didn't want this, she didn't want any of this, and now she has to sit here and watch the man she loves defend her honor, all because Landon Maddix's fragile ego can't take no for an answer." Todd struggles to break out of Landon's grasp, but Maddix doesn't flinch, not wanting to give Cortez a window of opportunity to escape. Todd shakes from side to side, as the crowd rallies behind him, stomping and clapping. Cortez shakes to the side, and this time manages to roll out of the body scissors and onto his knees, but Maddix hovers over him, still keeping the full nelson applied! "Maddix isn't letting up, and I don't think he'll be satisfied until he pushes Cortez's head right off of his body!" "Well, that's a rather gruesome way of looking at it. Thanks for the visual!" quips Suicide King. Todd continues his fight, transitioning from both knees to one knee, and then finally pulling himself up to his feet! He's still trapped in the full nelson, as Maddix is doing his best to keep his composure and not freak at Todd's resilience. Visibly in pain, Cortez grits his teeth, and tries to power out, pushing his arms downward and trying to break Landon's vice grip! The crowd cries out in approval while Landon's eyes bug out, as he's getting more and more worried about how much longer he can keep this up. Todd continues to push downward, trying to power out, and Landon simply lets go, then fires off two quick forearms to the back of Todd's neck before hooking another full nelson and then plants Cortez with a full nelson slam! Maddix then hops over his body and leaps up to the second rope, executing a graceful quebrada, but Cortez puts his knees up...so Maddix floats all the way through and allows himself to land on his feet! He grabs both of Todd's ankles, but Cortez kicks him away without much exertion of energy, then rolls to his feet. Landon is up at the same time and both charge towards each other, and wind up flooring each other with simultaneous lariats! "Both men are down!" "How observant of you, Pete. You earn that paycheck!" "COR-TEZ!" "COR-TEZ!" "COR-TEZ!" Another rally starts up in the crowd, and spreads throughout the Garden, as the "New Yawkers" chant for the knight in shining armor, the Urban Legend, to recover before his rival does. After looking up at the lights for several moments, Cortez sits up and rolls to his feet, unaware that Maddix is doing the same. Before he can get back to a vertical base, Maddix pulls Cortez into a standing headscissors, and readies him for a piledriver, but Cortez backdrops him to counter! Todd falls towards the ropes, reaching out and catching them for support while Maddix picks himself off the canvas yet again. Maddix stands up, and Cortez comes away from the ropes and swings his arm out at Maddix... SMACK~! ...stunning him with another blistering chop! SMACK~! And another! SM-NOPE~! Before a third chop can connect, Maddix jabs a thumb into Todd's eye, impairing his vision! Just as soon as Cortez raises his arm to feel at his eye, Maddix reaches over and traps the head and arm of Cortez and snaps him forward, driving the former Hardcore Champion down with the Complete Shot~! "He spiked him like a volleyball!" shouts Longdogger Pete. Maddix rolls Todd over and covers him, peering at Megan with a sly smile on his face as he listens to Hardcastle's hand hit the canvas once, twice...TWICE! "Todd kicks out, but that was another hard shot that rattled his neck." Maddix stands up and looks down at Cortez, then spits on him in a disgusting act that draws protest from Megan and boos from the crowd. Maddix simply looks out to the crowd and shrugs, then points to Megan and does the "shoosh" gesture before blowing her another kiss. Megan simply glares back at Landon as he picks Todd up and leads him by the head over to the corner, then rams his head into...no! Cortez puts a foot up on the middle rope to stop his face from being smashed into the turnbuckles! He fights back, taking Landon by the head and tries to send him into the buckles, but Landon puts his foot up to block as well! Landon tries a second time, but once again, Cortez puts the foot up and stops it from happening. Todd tries for a second time, and this time he succeeds, as Landon gets jarred by having his head sent into the turnbuckle! He staggers away, and Cortez starts climbing up the ropes, but at the last second Maddix lunges forward and shoves Cortez off of the top rope and down to the floor...AND CORTEZ FALLS DOWN INTO THE GUARDRAIL~! "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!" "Todd Cortez just crashed down into that metal security railing, and I couldn't tell from this vantage point if he hit his chest, or his chin, or what!" "I don't think it matters what he hit, Peter, it's the fact that he did connect with it after getting shoved from the top rope by Maddix! Cortez is down!" Maddix rests in the corner, his head lowered as he basks in the free time he's needed for recovery. Cortez is sprawled out at ringside, and Maddix looks over the ropes and smiles, then starts climbing the ropes, keeping an eye on his fallen foe. "What's he doing?" "If he's doing what I think he's doing, then..." Before King can even finish his sentence, Landon Maddix leaps from the top rope, sailing down towards the body of Todd Cortez, and drives his elbow into the chest of the Urban Legend~!~!~! "MY GOD! LANDON MADDIX JUST NAILED A FLYING ELBOW FROM THE TOP ROPE TO THE FLOOR!" "There was nothing, NOTHING, to break his fall! That was a suicide move, no pun intended, if I've ever seen one! "HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!" "Genesis is known as a term related to the beginning of something, but we may have seen the end of the lives of these two men here tonight!" Sexton Hardcastle rolls out of the ring and checks on both men. Megan comes around the corner and looks down, watching as Todd lay completely still. Hardcastle crouches down and checks both men, and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees Maddix start to stir. Seeing that Maddix is moving on his own, Hardcastle focuses his attention on Cortez, checking to see just how much damage has been done. "Landon's still got some life left him in it appears, but I can't say the same for Cortez, who hasn't even flinched since absorbing that elbowdrop." The crowd looks on with concern, as Hardcastle opens Cortez's eyes, making sure they're not rolled in the back of his head. Cortez looks up at the referee, then grabs him by the collar and pulls him closer to him. "What's he telling him?" "If I had the skill to tell you that, I'd have better job offers than being sidekick to you." quips the King. Hardcastle seems surprised, and the cameras pick up the official asking Cortez if he's sure. Cortez gives a slight nod, and Hardcastle backs away...only to get shoved aside by Landon, who is up on his feet! Maddix starts putting the boots to Cortez, then drops to his knees and starts choking his former partner, as the crowd protests! Sexton Hardcastle quickly does what he gets paid to do and pulls Landon off Todd, and the very fact that a "lowly official" would dare put their hands on him. He stalks Hardcastle, who orders Landon away from Todd and back to the ring, while Maddix just chuckles to himself. As he paces ringside, he looks over to the fans, and a lightbulb seemingly goes off over his head. Maddix walks over to the railing and motions for a fan to get up out of his chair, which the fan hesitantly does. Maddix motions for the fan to hand over his beer, but the fan laughs in Landon's face! The crowd roars for the defiant fan, and Maddix puts his hands on his hips, offended greatly...and then he swipes the beer from the fan! The poor guy leans over, trying to get his beer back, but Maddix piefaces him back into his seat, which causes every man, woman and child in attendance to get on his case! "He's a sneaky, cocky, no good bastard, and now he's going after fans? Is there no length he won't go to?" "I'm still wondering what the hell he wants a beer for in the middle of such a brutal match!" Maddix is still laughing to himself as he walks over to Cortez, who is starting to sit up. Landon takes Todd by the head and forces him back down, laying him on his back, and then raises the cup of beer up into the air. "DRINK UP!" shouts Maddix, and the fans boo, as it becomes apparent what he wanted it for...he's going to force feed Todd Cortez, the Straight Edge Streetfighter, an alcoholic beverage! "What a no good...he's spitting in the very face of Todd Cortez's moral values, and if he does this...WAIT!" Before he can pour even a slight sip, Maddix is struck across the back of the head by Megan, who has seen enough! Landon rolls his eyes in disbelief, then turns around to see Megan, now fuming, staring right back at him! "Good for you, Megan Skye!" cheers Longdogger Pete from the booth. Maddix stands up and moves towards Megan, shaking his head at her actions...and she responds by knocking the beer out of the cup and all over his face! Maddix is now soaked, and visibly angered, as the look of sarcastic shock has been replaced by a devilish sneer. Megan stands her ground, but Landon lunges at her and grabs a handful of hair, then takes the poor girl and rolls her into the ring! "He's gone after fans, the referee, why not go for the perfect trifecta? C'mon big man, go after the girl now. What a superstar you are!" says Suicide King, who has a great deal of disgust in his voice. Megan is rolled into the ring, but she's thinking well enough to start to crawl out the opposite side, until Landon Maddix drags her back in by her ankles! Megan kicks and screams as Landon brings her to her feet, and the cameras close in on her face, as she's crying in fear of what Landon could and would do to her. "LANDON SUCKS!" "LANDON SUCKS!" "LANDON SUCKS!" Maddix laughs off the chant, then tells the crowd in blunt fashion "I don't suck...SHE SUCKS!" as he holds Megan by her hair, keeping her hostage. Landon then points his finger in her face, telling Megan that she's going to get what's been coming to her, but before he can follow through with his threat he's STRUCK WITH A HOLLOW POINT FROM TODD CORTEZ~! "CORTEZ JUST NAILED HIM WITH THE HOLLOW POINT! TODD CORTEZ HAS COME BACK TO LIFE TO SAVE MEGAN SKYE!" "Are you calling a wrestling match or watching your copy of "The Crow" again?" Maddix drops to the mat, rolling around in the fetal position as Cortez just shot into his ribs like a human missle. Megan quickly backs up against the ropes, watching as her boyfriend struggles after connecting with the move, still weary from the elbowdrop Landon nailed him with earlier. Cortez gets to his feet and nearly falls over, as his legs are weak, but nonetheless he's up and the fans are roaring! Cortez turns to Megan and points to the floor, asking her to get out of the ring, and she does as she's told, leaving the rest of the dirty work up to her man! "He did his best to avoid Todd Cortez, he did his best to humiliate both he and Megan Skye, but now Landon Maddix is going to pay a heavy price for his actions!" Cortez looks as menacing as we've ever seen him in the SWF as he stands behind Maddix, who is pulling himself up with the ropes using one hand, and clutching his ribs with the other. Maddix stands up, hunching over as the pain surges through his ribcage, then stands up again. He takes a deep breath and then turns around, as Cortez stands firm and doesn't budge, wanting his rival to notice him. Maddix turns around and sees Cortez, and the look on Landon's face shows that he knows exactly what he's in for as Cortez dives for the legs and takes him down to the mat! "Think Landon left anything for us in his will, Pete?" "My guess would be no." "Damn, I could've used the extra scratch I could have gotten for stuff on eBay." Cortez starts pounding on Maddix again, then gets off him on his own accord. He drags Landon up to his feet and traps him in a butterfly lock, stunning him with knees again before releasing the lock and then dropping Landon with a scoop slam. Cortez then moves out to the apron, keeping both eyes on Landon as he grabs onto the top rope and slingshots himself into the air, bouncing off the top rope and into the ring...leapfrogging over Landon, who scurries up to his feet! Maddix breathes a sigh of relief, thinking Cortez has crashed and burned, but when he turns around he's blasted with a superkick that sends him staggering back into the ropes, and he rebounds into Cortez's waiting arms, which lift him up and plant him with a spinning sitout spinebuster! ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! "He's called La Cucaracha because he's been known to survive everything thrown at him, and he'd better pray he makes it through the night tonight!" "If that happens, I may have to resign. It's not a sight I'd be keen on seeing." Cortez throws Landon's legs down and gets up, while Landon rolls onto his side. That's not for long though as Cortez picks him up, slapping him across the face as he holds him by the hair and whips him across the ring into the corner. Cortez follows with a charge, but Landon kicks his leg up at the last second, jarring Cortez, and then props himself up on the ropes. He reels Cortez in and wraps his arms around his head and arm, cradling him in a familiar setup before kicking off the middle rope and twisting Cortez around to send him to the canvas via CRASH LANDON...BUT IT'S LANDON WHO CRASHES, AS CORTEZ SHOVES HIM AWAY IN MID-AIR! Landon belly flops onto the canvas, but immediately tries to get to his feet to fight back, although that proves to be a mistake as Cortez charges out of the corner and BLASTS him with a running YAKUZA KICK~! that folds Landon up upon impact! Cortez dives onto his opponent and covers, while the crowd counts along with Hardcastle's count! ONE! TWO! THR-NO! KICKOUT! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" The fans are not happy, and Cortez looks at Hardcastle, who has to reassure him that it was only a two count. Cortez doesn't let it take him off his game, as he pulls Landon up into a rear waistlock, and quickly hoists him over his head with a German Suplex! Cortez keeps his waist hooked and rolls through, pulling Landon up again, then drops him on the back of his head with another German suplex! Landon is dead weight at this point, and Cortez has to use a little more strength to pull him up, but once he does he doesn't go for a German, instead spinning Landon around and tucking Maddix's head between his knees, as he reaches over and grabs the waist, looking for the RIOT ACT PLUS... ...but as he leaps over Landon's back, Maddix catches him, throwing an arm over Todd's head and then dropping sideways to the mat, spiking him with a DEATH VALLEY DRIVER~! "LANDON MADDIX JUST COUNTERED THE RIOT ACT PLUS!" shouts a shocked Longdogger Pete. "Nobody has done that in the history of the move! Cortez has always prided it on being the move to end all matches, and he's worked hard to make it a move that he can hit on you out of nowhere. For the first time ever, Landon Maddix deserves some credit from me, because he just saved his own ass from defeat by countering that move!" The crowd is stunned, and then start booing as Landon reaches across Todd's body and sloppily pulls a leg up closer, keeping it hooked as Hardcastle comes to make the count for him. ONE! TWO! THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENO! NO! TODD CORTEZ KICKS OUT! "YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAH!" "IT'S NOT OVER YET!" shouts Pete from the edge of his seat. Maddix pounds the canvas, but doesn't let his ego get out of control this time, instead quickly rolling Cortez onto his stomach. Maddix then sits on his lower back and reaches for his head, wrapping his own arm around it like an inverted facelock, while simultaneously trapping the arm. TODD CORTEZ IS NOW TRAPPED IN THE LAND OF NOD~! "HE'S GOT HIM TRAPPED! TODD CORTEZ IS BEING PUT TO SLEEP BY LANDON MADDIX!" "CORTEZ! FIGHT IT, FIGHT IT! AFTER ALL THIS, DON'T GO DOWN NOW! DON'T LET HIM GET AWAY WITH WHAT HE'S DONE!" shouts Suicide King, in a rare moment of babyface encouragement. Megan panics at ringside, biting her lip as she sees Todd trapped in Landon's dangerous submission hold. Maddix channels all his energy and puts it into the move, showing that he's willing to exert himself in order to make the Urban Legend tap out to him. "COR-TEZ!" "COR-TEZ!" "COR-TEZ!" "The crowd is at a fever pitch, cheering for the Urban Legend, but it'll take more than the cheers of the fans to get him to escape this dreaded hold!" Megan pounds on the apron, rallying behind her man along with the capacity crowd. The cameras scan the crowd to show that nearly every fan in the building is on their feet, chanting for the proud Hispanic superstar, but when the view returns to the ring, it's the same visual as before, that of Landon Maddix seated on the back of Cortez and wrenching his head and arm back. Landon calls out to Hardcastle, ordering the referee to check on Cortez and see if he's out of it yet. "Now he's bossing referee's around? Why don't we just make him a General Manager or something?" "Pete, sarcasm or not, you take that back. Let's not give the office any ideas!" Hardcastle gets down on his stomach and looks directly at Cortez, who is trying his best to keep his eyes open. Landon asks several times "Is he out?", but every time he asks, Hardcastle tells him no. Even after getting the answer, Landon tells him to ask again, hoping that Todd won't be as persistent as usual, and will give up the good fight. "COR-TEZ!" "COR-TEZ!" "COR-TEZ!" The chanting continues, while Landon strains himself to keep Cortez in the hold. Beads of sweat drop from his forehead as he keeps his Land of Nod Dragon Clutch applied, and the pressure being put on Cortez's neck is still not enough to make him quit. Suddenly, Landon grits his teeth, as if he's holding back pain, and then moments later lets out a loud scream, but no one can figure out why! "What the...is this just an overexaggerated war cry, or is he...wait...he's losing his grip!" "There's no way he's releasing it on his own, I mean, he can't be THAT stupid, can he King?" "You're asking the wrong guy, but...wait, look!" The crowd roars, as Landon has let go, and is favoring his right arm, which is the one that had Todd's head trapped. Landon gets up, holding his arm close, and storms over to Hardcastle, as the cameras pick up what he's saying. "HE BIT ME! HE BIT MY ARM!" Seeing this on the Smarktron, the crowd starts going wild, and Hardcastle just shrugs it off, as he dealt with enough of Landon's shenanigans that he's allowing it to be an "eye for an eye" call! "Thank you Sexton Hardcastle! Justice has just bit you in the ass, Maddix!" "Actually, I believe it was the arm, Pete, but I still love ya." Maddix, who is pouting and angry, turns away from the referee before his temper gets the better of him, and then pulls the limp body of Cortez up off the canvas...AND IS THEN STRUCK WITH A DESPERATION LOW BLOW! Hardcastle sees the move take place, and it was blatant and done right in front of him...but he lets the match go on, as once again he feels that if Landon Maddix thinks he's teflon, he's going to let it go when it comes from the other side! "Both of these guys have gone full throttle, all out, to their limits, and now it's just a question of who can put it away!" Cortez pushes up, resting on his knees and burying his head in his hands, as he rubs his neck, tending to it after having it been wrenched back in the Land of Nod. He starts to come up on one knee, but Landon, who is standing up while still tending to himself (*ahem*), bolts for the ropes and springs off the mat, bringing his knee up for a SHINING WIZARD~!...BUT TODD CORTEZ LEAPS UP FROM HIS POSITION AND HITS A DROPSAULT INTO THE RIBCAGE OF LANDON MADDIX, KNOCKING THE WIND OUT OF HIM AS HE SOARS THROUGH THE AIR~! "CORTEZ WITH ANOTHER OUT OF NOWHERE SHOT, AND NOW HE NEEDS TO FOLLOW UP! THIS IS WHERE HE NEEDS TO PUT LANDON MADDIX AWAY!" Landon kicks the canvas with his feet as he tucks himself into a ball, again favoring the ribs. He rolls onto his knees and hunches over, holding his ribs, as Cortez gets up to his feet and moves for him, yanking him violently by the hair into a standing headscissors and then kicking off the canvas, springing over Landon's back and carrying him over before dropping him straight down on the top of his head! RIOT ACT PLUS~! "HE GOT IT~! HARDCASTLE, GET DOWN ON THE DAMN MAT AND MAKE THAT THREE COUNT!" screams Suicide King, completely amped up over in the announce booth. The crowd roars, and Megan even jumps up and throws her arm up in the air, as a groggy Cortez rolls a knocked out Landon Maddix onto his back and hooks a leg, not wanting to take any chances. Sexton Hardcastle slaps the canvas, and each time the sound is sweeter than the last. ONE! TWO! THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! DING! DING! DING! "It's over! The match is over, the war is over, and Todd Cortez has successfully defended the honor of the woman he loves!" As soon as the bell is heard, Megan slides into the ring and helps Todd to his feet. Once he's up, Hardcastle grabs his wrist and raises his arm into the air, much to the delight of the paying customers that have packed Madison Square Garden. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, YOUR WINNER, THE URBAN LEGEND, TODDDDDDDDDDDDDDD CORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTEZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!" "Oh No" hits, but you'd never know it as the cheers are overpowering. Cortez leans over, taking a moment to catch his breath before standing upright and pulling Megan close, giving her a huge hug! Megan follows up with a kiss to the lips of her beau, and the applause grows louder as the two celebrate the victory in the middle of the SWF ring. "What a match, and what a moment for these two. No longer is Landon Maddix a thorn in the side of Todd Cortez. No longer will he harass Megan Skye. If any two people in this world deserve to live happily ever after, it's those two right there!" Cortez opens the ropes for Megan, allowing her out of the ring before he drops to the canvas and rolls out. He takes Megan by the hand and the two begin walking back to the dressing room area amidst the loud ovation from their fans. "It wasn't a wrestling exhibition, it was a fight, and tonight, Todd Cortez proved that he was the better man. All the hatred and hostility that has been bottled inside of him came out tonight, and it led to victory. Everything Landon Maddix has done in the last few months has come back to haunt him here at Genesis, because it served to be the motivation that Todd Cortez brought with him tonight, and it's what led him to victory." "Congratulations are in order for Todd Cortez. He had everyone in this arena, including us, on the edge of their seats. Todd Cortez, I don't do this often, but you my friend have earned a helluva lot of respect from me!" states Suicide King. "Todd, trust me, take it as a compliment, because respect from this guy doesn't come easy. It's been a long night fans, and we're not done yet. We've got more coming to you live from Madison Square Garden, here tonight at Genesis VI."

Zyon begins shaking his head, refusing to submit despite the intense pain. As he continues to say no, the crowd begins to rally behind him: “PLEASE DON’T TAP! PLEASE DON’T TAP! PLEASE DON’T TAP!” The chant from the crowd seems to energize Zyon, as somehow he pulls himself to his feet. Despite having 215 pounds of International Champion completely wrapped around him, Zyon begins to walk forward to try to reach the ropes. He makes one more step, but he quickly drops to one knee. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” King: “It’s over, Pete. A valiant effort, but all for naught!” Jay Hawke tightens his grip on the hold ever so slightly, and Zyon’s eyes are nearly closed as he appears ready to pass out. The crowd again begins clapping and cheering, hoping to give the challenger an adrenaline rush. With one last ounce of strength, Zyon gets back to his feet and falls backwards, landing a modified Samoan drop. He just happens to be laying on the champion, whose shoulders are on the canvas: ONE! TWO! THRE -- KICKOUT! Pete: “Oh my! What an absolutely fantastic counter to the Wing Span, and Zyon nearly won the championship right there!” King: “I have never seen that before, and I can’t believe I saw it now either!” Zyon is slow to get up, but so is Hawke after having the wind knocked out of him from the Samoan drop. As both men struggle to pull themselves to their feet, Zyon catches Hawke with a forearm shot to the face. Zyon clutches at the left shoulder, still in obvious pain, but he catches Hawke with yet another forearm to the face. Ignoring the pain in the shoulder, Zyon runs off the ropes, taking the champion down with a high cross body: ONE! TWO! Kickout. Zyon immediately runs off the ropes again, his left arm extended for a clothesline as the champion reaches his feet, but Hawke immediately grabs the left arm and brings Zyon down into another Fujiwara armbar. Pete: “Back into that Fujiwara armbar yet again!” King: “Look at that, Pete! He’s just bending that shoulder joint right out of place! I’ve had that done to me, I’ve done it to other wrestlers, and you can’t properly explain what that feels like to your casual wrestling fans.” Zyon tries to pull himself back to his feet, but lets out a scream, as even trying to counter a hold is beginning to weaken the shoulder. Zyon is able to reach his feet, but Hawke drives an elbow into the shoulder. Still clutching the wrist with one hand, Hawke uses the arm to wrap Zyon by the waist and lift him, taking him down with a back suplex. Then, almost in one motion and maintaining his hold of the wrist, Hawke hooks Zyon into an overhand wristlock, bending his challenger’s hand on the mat. Zyon screams as the champion applies just a little bit more pressure to the hold. King: “Beautiful! Changing his offense just enough to get in one big high impact move, and then he goes right back to the arm and shoulder. A second Wing Span is going to end up putting Zyon away! I’m sure of it!” Hawke stands up, making sure Zyon’s arm is in the same position on the mat, then he stomps on the arm. Zyon lets out a blood-curdling scream as he rolls around on the mat, clutching at the left arm. Pete: “And that might do it. That had to have broken Zyon’s arm.” King: “If that didn’t break Zyon’s arm, then it hanging on by a thread right now.” Jay Hawke is feeling cocky again as he senses victory is within his grasp. He taunts Zyon, practically begging him to get to his feet. As he does, the champion runs off the ropes. The challenger’s got enough presence of mind to take the champion down with a power slam as he comes in, which draws a cheer from the crowd. However, Zyon immediately clutches at the shoulder, as the pain is so intense that he is unable to follow up. Pete: “A tremendous power slam coming out of nowhere by the challenger, and I don’t know how he had enough strength left in the shoulder to take him over.” King: “But that might have been the last ounce of strength he had, Pete. That pain is coursing through his body to the point that it’s going to be difficult to even stand in a few minutes.” Both men make it to their feet, although Zyon is just barely able to. Still, he gallantly fights back, using his right arm to clothesline Jay Hawke while keeping his left as close to his side as possible. Hawke gets back to his feet, but Zyon backdrops him with the right arm, only using the left arm enough to balance Hawke at the peak of the move. Zyon quickly drops to his knees while clutching the shoulder, but he tries to shrug it off and return to his feet. Hawke stands up near the corner, and Zyon charges, but the Dean catches him with an elbow to the face at the last second. Hawke moves in, but Zyon instinctively kicks him in the midsection. He hooks Hawke as if to go for a Russian legsweep, but instead falls forward with the champion, driving his face into the mat. Pete: “Zyon hit the Decline! Now he needs to cover the champion!” King: “I’ll give him credit. He knows enough to do everything with his right arm if at all possible, but the pain is too intense for him to cover Jay Hawke!” Zyon finally uses his right arm to roll Hawke over, and he uses just that right arm to make the cover: ONE! TWO! NO! Pete: “And the added time he needed to make the cover is exactly why he was unable to get the pin there.” Zyon gets to his feet and reaches down to pick up Jay Hawke, but Hawke kicks the shoulder to stop whatever it was Zyon was thinking of doing. Jay Hawke then sets Zyon up for a vertical suplex, but Zyon blocks it. Hawke goes for it again, but again it’s blocked. Zyon back up a couple of steps. Then, summoning every bit of strength he can muster in his shoulder, he lifts Hawke up and suplexes him over the top rope to the arena floor. “OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” The crowd then begins to cheer as Zyon, still in the ring, drops to his knees and once again clutches at his shoulder. Pete: “What a move there, and this is important! This will allow Zyon to take a minute and get some of the numbness out of the shoulder!” King: “Zyon’s just lucky these aren’t the Old School Rules we saw at Ground Zero London, or he would have been disqualified right there!” With Hawke still down on the arena floor, Zyon tries to climb up the top rope. Pete: “Where’s he going?” King: “To the hospital if he misses.” It’s a slow climb, as Zyon is literally pulling himself up to the top rope with one arm. He finally makes it and leaps, and he connects with a corkscrew plancha that brings the Madison Square Garden crowd to its feet. Pete: “No Regard to the floor!” King: “I can’t believe he hit that!” Pete: “Hawke had to be hurt enough after the fall off the top rope that he was still dazed, but Zyon might have furthered injured the shoulder!” Funyon: “Twenty minutes have gone by, 40 minutes remain in the time limit.” THREE! With both men down on the floor, Scott Ryder does his standard ten count. Zyon somehow got the better of the top rope move, and he grabs a hold of the champion and rolls him into the ring. FIVE! Instead of immediately following Hawke back in, the Unique Youth instead decides to take one more high risk and end the match right here. He slowly climbs the turnbuckles, again using just the right arm to assist in his climb. SEVEN! He reaches the top rope, clutches the shoulder, and leaps into the ring with a forward flip… THUD! “OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Pete: “He missed the Final Flash, as the champion just barely rolled out of the way!” King: “Zyon went for the end of the match at the wrong time. Had he simply rolled into the ring and hit something else before trying it, he might have had it. Instead, he waited until Hawke had essentially had a 30 second rest period, and that cost him!” Pete: “Hawke isn’t exactly in great shape either right now, either. He’s just making his way to his feet!” Both men pull themselves to their feet, with Hawke getting up a split second before Zyon. Hawke staggers backwards, and Zyon runs toward him, only to be caught in the face with a dropkick out of nowhere. Zyon falls down like a shot, and Hawke immediately falls into a cover, hooking the left leg: ONE! TWO! TH -- kickout. Pete: “Zyon ran in, thinking Hawke was more hurt than he was, and he ate a dropkick for his troubles!” King: “But did Hawke sucker him in, or was he actually that hurt that he staggered backwards like that?” Pete: “Either way, Zyon is in trouble here!” Jay Hawke stands up, and he grabs Zyon’s arm and extends it on the mat. He then backs up a few steps and drops a leg, but Zyon moves his arm, causing Hawke to miss his intended target and only get the canvas. Zyon rolls over and pulls himself to his feet, with Jay Hawke slowly getting up. Hawke reaches his feet doubled over, and Zyon wastes no time locking Hawke in a standing head scissors. He cradles his arms between Hawke’s legs, brings him upside down, and leaps, driving Hawke’s head down into the canvas with a cradle piledriver that crumbles Hawke’s body upon impact. Pete: “Final Hour! Final Hour!” King: “No!” With the adrenaline rushing through his body being enough to lessen the pain in the shoulder, Zyon gets to his feet and turns Jay Hawke into the position he wants. Then, once again, he climbs up to the top turnbuckle a bit faster than he has the last few minutes, but still much slower than normal. He climbs to the top and once again goes for the Final Flash, but Jay Hawke lifts the knees, which catch Zyon hard in the back as he lands. “OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Pete: “He got the knees up! Jay Hawke got the knees up, and he has saved his championship for the moment!” King: “Zyon needs to consider forgetting about the high flying moves. If this match goes much longer, he won’t have enough left in that shoulder to do anything, much less become the International Champion.” Jay Hawke pulls himself to his feet, then grabs Zyon in a front facelock before quickly taking him down a swinging neck breaker. The offensive flurry by the challenger still has the Dean groggy though, so he stumbles over to the corner before attempting to climb the turnbuckle. King: “What’s he thinking? Don’t beat this guy with aerial tactics! You’d be playing into his hands! Keep working on the arm!” The delay is enough for Zyon to roll to his feet, and he heads over to the corner, catching Hawke coming in with a right hand. After a couple of forearms to the back, Zyon sets Jay Hawke up for a superplex. Hawke gets a quick chop to the throat out of the referee’s sight, then head butts Zyon in the injured shoulder. Another head BUTT into the shoulder, then he does it repeatedly -- six, seven, eight head butts that add to the throbbing pain already piercing through the shoulder. As Zyon shakes off the effects of the head butts, Hawke levels him with a forearm that knocks him off the turnbuckle and into the perfect position. The champion leaps, and he comes crashing down with a flying leg drop across the shoulder of his fallen challenger! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! JAY HAWKE SUCKS! JAY HAWKE SUCKS! JAY HAWKE SUCKS!” Hawke covers Zyon, hooking the left leg: ONE! TWO! THRENOHEGOTTHESHOULDERUP! “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” Jay Hawke stares at the referee in disbelief, as he was certain the match was over right there. Pete: “I don’t believe it! A leg drop off the top rope onto an injured shoulder, and Zyon was still able to kick out!” King: “He might have been able to kick out, Pete, but somehow I don’t think he’s got enough left to kick out of too many more moves!” Now getting frustrated with his inability to put the challenger away, Jay Hawke begins leveling Zyon with a series of punches and elbows to the left shoulder. The champion then goes to twist the challenger’s arm, but the challenger counters, taking Jay Hawke down with an arm drag takedown. Hawke rolls to his feet and charges, but Zyon charges as well, diving forward into Jay Hawke with a shoulder into his ribs. Pete: “A spear! That’s going to do it!” However, Zyon is rolling the mat, clutching at the left shoulder as he rolls on the mat. King: “No it’s not! Zyon used the bad shoulder to hit that spear! He can’t follow it up!” Pete: “I can’t believe this! Zyon is trying to roll into the cover, but…” ONE! “…it might already be too late!” TWO! THR -- NO! King: “And it was already too late! I don’t see how Zyon can possibly get the pinfall here. His shoulder is simply too far gone!” Now it’s Zyon who’s becoming frustrated at his inability to put Jay Hawke away. He begins to stomp Jay Hawke, hoping it will keep him down. Hawke begins to make his way to his feet, and Zyon catches him with a dropkick, backflipping upon impact and landing on his stomach. Pete: “Dropsault by Zyon, and right back into another cover! ONE! TWO! Kickout. Zyon stays relentless in his attack. He uses his good arm to pull Jay Hawke to his feet. Then, he picks Hawke up as if to slam him, making sure the bulk of Hawke’s weight is supported on his right arm. Zyon does a quick spin before dumping Hawke onto his head, shaking the left arm upon impact. Pete: “Zyon hits the Aero Driver, which Hawke had countered in the opening minutes of this match, and he’s going for the cover!” ONE! TWO! THR -- shoulder up! Pete: “And once again, Jay Hawke somehow manages to kick out!” Funyon: “Twenty-five minutes have gone by, 35 minutes remain.” King: “Zyon brought his left arm up just enough to balance Hawke, but even that hurt him just enough to where he couldn’t quite get enough on that move to pin him!” The champion is still down, and Zyon springboards off the middle ropes, attempting to backflip onto the prone International Champion. However, Jay Hawke lifts the knees a split-second before impact… “OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” And Zyon lands hard onto Hawke’s knees, the left shoulder absorbing most of the impact. Pete: “And that is going to further aggravate Zyon’s shoulder!” King: “But I’ll begrudgingly give credit to Zyon for one thing there! The pain in the shoulder has to be intense, but Zyon has yet to allow that pain to distract him from his gameplan!” Jay Hawke makes his way to his feet and positions himself behind Zyon, who has gotten to his knees. Zyon shakes his left arm, then stands up the rest of the way, unaware that Jay Hawke is already standing behind him. Hawke makes his move, attempting to finish Zyon off once and for all… “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Pete: “Another Wing Span! And with Jay Hawke focusing almost solely on the shoulder for over 15 minutes already, I can’t see anyway Zyon gets out of it this time!” King: “His only saving grace is that he’s on his feet right now! If he drops to his knees, it’s going to be all over!” As Hawke tightens his grip on the hold, beads of sweat pouring off of his forehead, the crowd once again tries to will their favorite out of the hold: “LET’S GO ZY-ON! *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP!* LET’S GO ZY-ON! *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP!* LET’S GO ZY-ON! *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP!*” Zyon shakes his head, eyes closed, thinking “I’ve got to do this. I can’t let these people down. I can’t let myself down.” Then, he falls backwards into another modified Samoan drop. This time Hawke hangs on, furthering countering the hold into an awkward modified crucifix: Pete: “Beautiful counter by the champion!” ONE! King: “Shoulders down!” TWO! King: “Hawke retains!” THRE -- Zyon somehow rolls the shoulder up and rolls just a little bit to the side, getting a foot draped over the bottom rope in the process. “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! LET’S GO ZY-ON! *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP!* LET’S GO ZY-ON! *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP!* LET’S GO ZY-ON! *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP!*” Pete: “He got to the ropes!” King: “It can’t be true, Pete! It just can’t be true!” Pete: “It is true. Jay Hawke has gone for the Wing Span on three occasions, locked it in twice, and somehow he has been unable to make Zyon tap out to it!” Jay Hawke grabs Zyon by the back of the head and drags his challenger into the center of the ring. He goes for an armbar, but Zyon grabs Hawke’s arm instead and twists it, getting a couple of martial arts kicks into Hawke’s now-exposed ribs in the process. Zyon whips Jay Hawke into the corner. He charges, but Hawke is waiting to backdrop him. Zyon manages to grab the top rope and place both feet on the middle rope, landing completely unharmed. Hawke turns around, only to get caught with a back kick to the chest that knocks him three steps backwards. That gives Zyon just enough distance to hop onto the top rope and leap onto Hawke with a twisting body press: ONE! TWO! THR -- NO! “YAAAAA--BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! LET’S GO ZY-ON! *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP!* LET’S GO ZY-ON! *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP!* LET’S GO ZY-ON! *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP!*” Pete: “A beautiful high cross body out of nowhere, and Zyon once again came less than six inches away from winning the International Championship!” King: “And that might be what he needs to do. Lifting Hawke is going to be nearly impossible with the shoulder the way it is. It’s probably going to take some sort of move that ends up with an automatic pinning predicament to take it at this point!” Zyon clutches his shoulder as he makes his way to his feet, and the arm simply dangles at his left side. He tries to use his right arm to pull the champion to his feet. He goes for an Irish whip, but Hawke stops short and pulls Zyon in before taking him down with a clothesline. Hawke immediately drops down for the cover: ONE! TWO! Kickout. The Dean of Wrestling immediately picks Zyon up before just as quickly dropping Zyon’s back over Hawke’s knee and going for yet another cover: ONE! TWO! Kickout. Pete: “How many near falls have we already had in this contest?” King: “I don’t know if there’s a number that high that anybody can pronounce. It’s got to be over 50 at this point.” Tiring at this point, even with his superb conditioning, Jay Hawke slowly pulls the challenger back to his feet. He locks the Unique Youth into a front facelock, then takes him over with a snap suplex, almost unable to fully bring him over. Pete: “Whoa.” King: “Hawke came dangerously close to dropping Zyon on his head there. Not that it would have done any damage.” Pete: “Hawke going for yet another cover.” ONE! TWO! THR -- kickout. Pete: “And again Zyon kicks out! How is he doing that?” King: “I don’t know, but I’d venture to guess that Jay Hawke’s asking himself the same question right now!” Jay Hawke again drags Zyon up to his feet. He picks him up in a body slam position, but instead he brings his shoulder down onto his knee. Unrelenting, Hawke then grabs Zyon’s left arm and extends it out. He drops the leg across it, then applies a short arm scissors. Pete: “And here’s a move you don’t see much these days. Hawke has the legs scissored around Zyon’s bended arm, obviously not doing the injured shoulder any favors!” King: “And obviously trying to do anything to get Zyon to submit, but in this position, Zyon has to be careful not to let his shoulders fall to the canvas.” Jay Hawke continues to apply the pressure, yelling “Give it up before I end your career right here!” Zyon refuses to give in, going so far as to bite on his own clenched fist to try and fight the pain. Funyon: “Thirty minutes have gone by in this contest, thirty minutes remain!” Zyon continues to grit his teeth as he continues to fight the pain. King: “And Pete, I’ve done my research here. Zyon has never been in a match this long in his career. The last time Hawke was in a match topping thirty minutes was back in the now-defunct HIWF in 1999, before the neck injury that cost him three years of his career.” Pete: “I never would have imagined this one going this long, particularly with Zyon trapped in holds like this!” Zyon then punches the canvas as he tries to think of a counter, unaware that in doing so, his shoulders have fallen to the canvas: ONE! TWO! Shoulder up. As Zyon continues to fight the pain, the crowd begins to do a unique dueling chant: “LET’S GO ZY-ON! JAY HAWKE SUCKS! LET’S GO ZY-ON! JAY HAWKE SUCKS! LET’S GO ZY-ON! JAY HAWKE SUCKS!” Desperate to find some way…any way…to get out of this hold, Zyon attempts to get to his feet, and in doing so rolls Jay Hawke onto his shoulders: ONE! TWO! Jay Hawke gets back into position, causing Zyon’s shoulders to fall to the mat: ONE! TWO! Shoulder up. Pete: “Each man picking up a near fall after that exchange, and I don’t see how Zyon can possibly survive this for much longer.” King: “I’d say he needs to get out of this within the next 30 seconds or so. Otherwise, he can kiss the title, and possibly his career, goodbye.” Zyon again tries to stand up, but Hawke refuses to release the hold. With that knowledge grasped, Zyon reaches around and clasps his hand together. With the crowd once again beginning to chant Zyon’s name, Zyon tries to lift Hawke off the mat, but he screams and drops the champion before clutching at the shoulder. King: “He needs to submit right here. There’s no way his shoulder can take any more of this punishment!” Zyon once again clasps his hands together. Again he tries to lift Jay Hawke, somehow able to lift Hawke onto his shoulder on this occasion. With Hawke shaking his head in disbelief, Zyon falls backward, sending Hawke crashing to the mat with a modified electric chair suplex. “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! ZY-ON! ZY-ON! ZY-ON!” Pete: “What a tremendous counter by the challenger, and both men are down!” King: “But as great a counter as that move was, how much did that take out of the Zyon’s shoulder?” Jay Hawke is down and seemingly out. Zyon is down and rubbing his left shoulder, trying desperately to regain feeling in his left arm. With no signs of movement, Scott Ryder is forced to begin a ten count: ONE! TWO! THREE! Pete: “Both men are nearly out of it here!” FOUR! King: “And if Scott Ryder reaches the count of ten here, the match is a draw, and Jay Hawke will retain the International Championship” FIVE! Zyon begins to roll over. SIX! Zyon begins to crawl over toward the prone Jay Hawke. SEVEN! The crowd begins to cheer for Zyon, begging him to get the pin. EIGHT! Zyon reaches over, draping an arm across Jay Hawke’s chest. Scott Ryder slides into position, and the crowd counts along with him: ONE! “ONE!” TWO! “TWO!” THRE -- Jay Hawke lifts the left shoulder! “THREE! YAAAAAAA-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! THAT WAS THREE! THAT WAS THREE! THAT WAS THREE!” King: “That was only two, you morons!” Pete: “And still, the match continues. We may have our first candidate for 2005-2006 Match of the Year here!” Zyon struggles to get to his feet, unable to even move without hurting the shoulder. Somehow he is able to bring Jay Hawke to his feet. He locks in a front facelock and goes for a suplex, but Hawke throws a series of punches into Zyon’s ribs to slow down the attack. Hawke then lifts Zyon into the air, trying to take him over into a Northern Lights suplex, but Zyon kicks his legs, shifting the momentum until he brings the International Champion down hard onto the top of his head! “OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Pete: “Bring Me Down DDT! He just spiked the International Champion right down onto the top of his head!” King: “If he covers him, we’re going to have a new International Champion! Dammit!” The crowd, sensing a title change is imminent, begins chanting Zyon’s name yet again. Still clutching at his throbbing shoulder, Zyon looks like he’s going to go for the cover, but he stops and looks over toward the turnbuckle. “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” King: “Don’t be stupid! Cover him while you have the chance!” Pete: “Are you actually rooting for Zyon?” King: “Of course not, but even I have to admit he’s got it won here!” Zyon then makes his way to the corner, once again trying to climb the turnbuckle with just his one good arm. He’s on the bottom rope… … …the middle rope… … …the top rope… …and Jay Hawke makes his way to his feet and lunges for the corner, grabbing a hold of Zyon’s foot. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” King: “See that? Instead of winning the championship, he just cost himself big-time there!” Jay Hawke punches Zyon in the midsection, then begins to climb up after him. He uses a couple of European forearms to weaken his challenger, then makes his way to the top rope. He locks in a front facelock and puts Zyon’s arm over the back of his neck… Pete: “He’s going for a superplex here, King!” King: “Dynamite Kid, get ready to eat your heart out right here!” …but Zyon levels Hawke with several punches to the ribs, then frees himself to head BUTT the International Champion. Zyon rears back and catches Hawke in the face with an extra hard forearm smash, and Hawke crashes to the mat, bringing the capacity Madison Square Garden crowd to its feet. Zyon then rights himself, sets himself on the top rope, and flies, doing a picture-perfect forward flip onto the chest of Jay Hawke! “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” Pete: “Final Flash! Zyon has finally hit the Final Flash!” King: “And as much as I hate to say this, it’s all over right here!” Zyon crawls over, clutching at his shoulder as Jay Hawke instinctively tries to roll away. He doesn’t get far, as Zyon covers, unable to hook the leg. Scott Ryder slides into position, and once again the crowd counts along: ONE! “ONE!” TWO! Funyon: “Thirty-five minutes have gone by…” “TWO!” “…25 minutes remain.” THRE-- “THREE! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” But as the crowd and Zyon begin to celebrate, Scott Ryder waves it off, pointing at the toe of Hawke’s right boot that has just barely been draped over the bottom rope! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Pete: “I don’t believe it!” King: “Quite frankly, neither do I! I’m not sure Hawke is even aware he did that! Totally out of instinct!” Pete: “What is left for these two men to do? They have busted out damn near every move in their arsenals, and yet they still can’t put each other away!” Zyon gets to his knees and looks out at the crowd. With sweat pouring down his face and eyes barely open out of sheer fatigue, Zyon tries to think of one more move that might put the coveted title in his hands. Then he decides there’s only one thing left to do. He’s going to beat Jay Hawke at his own game. With Jay Hawke finally pulling himself to his feet, Zyon gets behind him. Hawke finally reaches his feet, and Zyon comes up from behind, locking him in a crossface chickenwing. “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” King: “WHAT THE HELL!” Pete: “A crossface chickenwing by Zyon! He’s going to try to get a submission to put the champion away here!” King: “It’s almost a Wing Span, but he doesn’t have the free arm scissored!” Pete: “But if he can get Hawke off his feet, the arm scissors won’t matter! The crossface chickenwing will be enough to do the trick!” Sensing desperation, the crowd begins to tell Jay Hawke what they want him to do in this situation: “TAP! TAP! TAP! TAP! TAP!” However, you can count the number of times The Dean of Professional Wrestling has submitted on one hand and still have fingers left over. Sensing that Zyon is ready to bring him down to the mat, he lunges forward and falls into the middle rope. Scott Ryder, who might be damn near as tired as the wrestlers at this point, calls for the break, and Zyon reluctantly releases the hold. King: “God, that was too close for comfort.” Zyon pulls Hawke off of the ropes and levels him with some quick kicks to the ribs, backing Jay Hawke into the corner. He levels Hawke with a hard forearm, then Irish whips him into the opposite corner. Zyon charges, but Hawke side steps the oncoming Unique Youth…. THUD! “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Pete: “And Zyon’s left shoulder caught nothing but steel ringpost!” King: “Forget it, Pete! That was the last gasp of hope for Zyon right there!” Which is exactly what Jay Hawke is thinking, as he gets behind his challenger and wastes no time locking in the Wing Span as Zyon backs out of the corner. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Pete: “And for the third time in this match, Jay Hawke has locked the Wing Span in on his injured opponent! It has to be over here!” Jay Hawke puts as much pressure on the hold as he possibly can, desperate to finally get the submission victory and head out of the biggest pay-per-view of the year with the biggest win of his SWF career. There’s no fancy counter for Zyon this time, as he almost immediately drops to his knees. King: “He’s putting Zyon off of his feet with it! We’re seconds away from having a clear cut winner here!” As Zyon begins to fade, the crowd once again tries to rally their hero: “PLEASE DON’T TAP! PLEASE DON’T TAP! PLEASE DON’T TAP!” But the cheers are faint to Zyon, and his vision’s getting blurry. He reaches for the ropes, thinking to himself… ]Can’t…quit…. Must…reach…forward… Last………chance……. “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” Pete: “He made it! Zyon made it to the ropes, King!” King: “I think he fell into the ropes, Pete! He looks like he’s just about out of it!” As Scott Ryder forces Jay Hawke to break the hold, Hawke buries his head into his hands. Wondering what it’s going to take, he pulls Zyon away from the ropes. He picks up his limp challenger, then drops Zyon’s shoulder onto his knee. Hawke drops Zyon to the mat, looking down on him… … …then looking at the top rope. Pete: “What’s he doing?” King: “I don’t know, Pete. He seems confused as to what to do from here.” Jay Hawke shakes his head, then starts climbing up the inside of the turnbuckle, his back to Zyon. King: “What the hell is he doing?” Pete: “Jay Hawke apparently feels he has to take a chance here, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him fly quite like this!” Hawke makes his way to the top turnbuckle, takes a deep breath, and leaps, doing a complete backflip in the air and driving his knee into Zyon’s left shoulder. “OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Pete: “What the hell was that?” Jay Hawke immediately covers, hooking the leg and digging his elbow into the shoulder at the same time: ONE! TWO! THREE! DING DING DING! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Pete: “He got him! He finally got him!” Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen, in 38 minutes 11 seconds … the winner of this bout … and still the SWF International Champion … ‘The Dean of Professional Wrestling’ … JAAAAAAAAAAAAY HAWWWWWWWWWWWWWKE!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” King: “And Pete, that move, if I’m not mistaken, is called the Hawke Swoop! Hawke told me about when he first came here seven months ago, and that’s the first time we’ve seen it.” Scott Ryder hands the title belt to Jay Hawke, who is still on the mat, sucking up wind after a grueling encounter. Pete: “And you’ve got to tip your hand to both wrestlers here, King. Truly an epic match, as both men were forced to go away from their normal styles at the end of the match to attempt to gain the victory.” King: “And I’ll give Zyon full credit here. I never, never in my wildest dreams, imagined that Zyon would last this long in there with Jay Hawke. I never dreamed he’d come as close as he did to winning the title tonight.” Jay Hawke holds the title belt in the air as Zyon stands up. Zyon leans along the top rope, looking dejected as Hawke turns around and sees him. Hawke approaches Zyon and slaps him in the back, causing Zyon to turn around in anger. King: “We might not be done yet, Pete!” Pete: “I don’t think we are, King.” Despite Zyon’s left arm hanging limp at his side, he cocks a fist with a right hand, expecting to get ready to defend himself. Instead, Jay Hawke extends his right hand for a handshake. King: “WHAT?” Unsure what to make of it, Zyon looks around at the capacity crowd, unsure what to make of it. Most of the crowd tells him not to fall for it, but Zyon reaches out… … …and they shake hands. Pete: “Unreal. What a show of sportsmanship.” Jay Hawke looks at Zyon and says “Hell of a job, kid. Hell of a job.” He then leaves the ring, allowing Zyon to soak in the cheers of the crowd. Pete: “Unbelievable.” King: “Really. I expected Hawke to punch him in the mouth.” Pete: “Say what you will about these two guys. Whether you love them or you hate them, these two men gave it their all. They left everything in the ring tonight, and you just saw a show of respect from one the meanest men in the game.” King: “I still think he should have punched him in the mouth, but even I have to admit that you can’t help but respect Zyon after that performance.” Pete: “Jay Hawke might still be the International Champion, but tonight, we saw Zyon take one more step toward superstardom.” Meanwhile, behind the massive Genesis set, SWF technicians and stage hands scurry around. Wes Davenport stands alongside many other wrestlers, watching a nearby monitor. “Worst production values I have ever seen,” he says to no one in particular, but loud enough so that everyone nearby can hear. A few performers grumble as Davenport just shakes his head, finding the whole experience to be a bore. Suddenly, Barry Jacobs comes running, for 5 steps, before he breaks down into a staggering walk, calling out, “Wes! Wes!” The actor turns around, stopping his manager and crying, “What are you so excited about!? Have they finally come to their senses and realized I don’t need any of this? That would really make my freakin' day!” Barry’s coughing and spluttering finally ceases, as the long-time manager looks at Wes with a small tinge of regret and remorse. “Wes? I… have some bad news… how about we go have a drink.”

As Genesis VI continues from the World’s Most Famous Arena, we cut to our broadcast team, looking as exhausted as many of the wrestlers who have already competed tonight. Pete: “Can you believe this amazing action, King? And we’ve still got a long way to go.” King: “Yeah, and we’re coming up to one of the most highly-anticipated matches of the evening. Jay Hawke is poised to successfully defend the International Championship against the unworthy Zyon.” Pete: “Unworthy? Let’s go over the facts. Hawke accepted the challenge and locked in the Wing Span, correct?” King: “Right.” Pete: “From there, they were in a tag team match together, and Zyon pinned Hawke to win that contest.” King: “Right. And the key there is that it was a tag team match. A completely different animal from a singles match. And Jay Hawke wanted Zyon to beat him in a singles match to prove his worth.” Pete: “Zyon put the title shot on the line, and he scored the victory…” King: “Only because the state athletic commission awarded him the victory on a technicality.” Pete: “Ever since then, it’s essentially been a war of words.” King: “They had a debate on Storm, and that debate ended with Jay Hawke locking Zyon in the Wing Span once again.” Pete: “Then on Lockdown, Jay Hawke was holding a public workout, and after finishing off two men in short order, he was pinned by Zyon in the third and final leg of that workout.” King: “Don’t even get me started about what a bunch of bullshit that was, Pete.” Pete: “Of course, this past week on Smarkdown, another war of words turned physical. This time, Zyon countered the Wing Span and went for the Final Flash, but Hawke rolled out of the ring before Zyon could leap off the top rope.” King: “Exactly. Sheer brilliance by Hawke there.” Pete: “The match is coming up in just a matter of moments. Who’s going to win?” King: “Well, I’ll say this. Jay Hawke has the experience edge and is clearly the odds-on-favorite here. But Zyon can win the match if he can catch Hawke off-guard with something quick. If Hawke is able to control the pace and work his style of match, he takes it easily.” Pete: “And with that, we go up to Funyon for the introductions.” Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall with a one hour time limit, and it is for the SWF International Championship!” “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” The cheers of the crowd quickly turn into jeers, as the lights dim and the opening strains of Pink Floyd’s “Learning to Fly” come on the public address system. Funyon: “Introducing first … representing Cucaracha Internacional … from the Hall of Fame City of Cleveland, Ohio … weighing in at 215 pounds … he is the reigning and defending SWF International Champion … ‘The Dean of Professional Wrestling’ … JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY HAWWWWWWWWWWWWWKE!” With the announcement of the champion’s name, the top of the ramp goes completely black until a lone spotlight comes on, showing Jay Hawke, with his back to the ring, holding his arms out at his side, almost as if he’s basking in the glow of the spotlight. He turns around, and the light illuminates the title belt he wears around his waist just right to accentuate it. He begins to walk to the ring. Pete: “Well, this is unusual. Normally the champion would come to the ring last, and as old school as Jay Hawke is, I’d have assumed he would have stuck to protocol.” King: “Oh, Jay Hawke asked to come out to the ring first tonight. He wanted to make Zyon sweat a little bit. Let the pressure build up. This might be Hawke’s first Genesis appearance, but he’s been in big events before. Zyon has never been in an event this big in his life, and Hawke’s hoping Zyon will get blown up before he ever gets out here.” As Jay Hawke enters the ring, he removes the title belt from around his waist and hands it to referee Scott Ryder. Then The arena goes black as the words “I’m Born”, “I’m Alive”, and “I Breathe” alternate on the Smarktron. “Vitamin” by Incubus kicks in. Funyon: “His opponent … from Elkhart, Indiana … weighing in at 200 pounds … ‘The Unique Youth’ … ZYYYYYYYYYYYYYON!” Zyon doesn’t immediately emerge from the locker room, instead allowing the chorus of his theme music to play: You stare at me like I'm a vitamin. On the surface you hate, but you know you need me. I'll come dressed as any pill you deem fit. Whatever helps you swallow truth all the more easily. King: “See? Hawke’s strategy worked to perfection! He’s afraid to come out here!” Pete: “I highly doubt that, King. I think this is strategy on the part of Zyon!” Jay Hawke stares down the aisle, practically begging Zyon to show himself. And then he does. “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” Unfortunately for the champion, Hawke hasn’t seen the challenger yet, as the challenger has come out through the crowd and is on the apron behind the champion. Pete: “And there he is!” King: “Wait a minute!” With the cheers of the crowd telling Hawke something’s up, Hawke turns around. As he does, Zyon uses the top rope as a springboard, taking the champion down with a picture-perfect flying body press. DING DING DING! ONE! TWO! THR -- kickout! Pete: “How close was that? That’s how Zyon got the pin during the workout a couple of weeks ago, and he almost got the champion again with it!” King: “What a cheap maneuver! He can’t even be bothered to come after the man face-to-face!” Zyon immediately takes advantage of the situation and runs into the ropes. He charges, and Hawke tries to pick him up for a backbreaker, but Zyon spins around until he takes Hawke over with an arm drag takedown. The challenger follows it up with a dropkick that sends the champion sprawling into the corner, then immediately takes the champion out of the corner with a monkey flip. Zyon moves in as Hawke stands, catching the champion with a forearm to the side of the head. Zyon goes for an Irish whip, but Hawke reverses, sending the challenger chest-first into the turnbuckle. Jay Hawke immediately grabs Zyon by the waist, looking for a German suplex. Zyon blocks and goes behind Hawke, who grabs the Unique Youth’s foot and takes him down to the mat. Still holding the foot, the champion spins around into a spinning toehold, but Zyon reaches up and grabs Hawke by the back of the head, taking him down into an inside cradle: ONE! TWO! Kickout. Pete: “What an incredible pace already, King! Zyon keeping the International Champion off-guard with some fast-moving offense, and I’m not sure Hawke knows what to make of it!” King: “It all looks impressive, but there’s only so long he can keep that pace up. And as soon as he starts to slow down, Hawke’s got it in the bag!” As both men make it to their feet, Jay Hawke charges. Zyon ducks underneath, then picks up the champion. He gives a quick spin, but Jay Hawke slips behind Zyon and slides out of the ring. Pete: “Zyon looked to be going for that Aero Driver in the very early going, but the International Champion wisely slipped out of it.” King: “And now he’s on the arena floor, looking to slow the pace down and take Zyon out of his element.” Zyon walks to the ropes, looking like he might slingshot himself over the top rope and onto the champion, but Jay Hawke trips him and drags him out of the ring with full force. Zyon hits the concrete floor hard, actually bouncing off the athletic commission-mandated blue mats that cover the ringside area. Pete: “And if Hawke leaving the ring didn’t slow Zyon down, hitting the floor that hard certainly will.” King: “And you know full well that Hawke will take a countout victory if he can get it.” Pete: “Exactly. Zyon has humiliated the normally-arrogant champion by picking up those three victories over the past six weeks. I’m sure he’ll take the victory anyway he can get it, just so he can claim to have proven Zyon wasn’t worthy of this opportunity.” Jay Hawke picks up Zyon, almost as if he’s going to body slam him to the floor, but instead he drops him face-first along the side of the ring apron. He then rolls Zyon into the ring before following him in, with the referee not even getting halfway through his ten count. Pete: “That’s interesting. Maybe he does want to pin Zyon after all!” King: “Well, the countout would probably leave doubt in some people’s minds. Maybe he figures getting the pin is more important if he wants to settle this thing.” With Zyon on his hands and knees, still feeling the effects from the face drop to the apron, Jay Hawke begins stomping away at the left shoulder of the challenger. Zyon shrugs them off and reaches his feet, but the champion is quickly there to hook Zyon in a front facelock and take him over with a vertical suplex. King: “I like that. A couple of kicks to the shoulder, just to put the Wing Span into the rookie’s head, and now he takes control with wrestling.” Jay Hawke pulls Zyon to his feet and levels him a series of forearm smashes, then whips him into the ropes. He ducks his head for a backdrop, too early as it turns out. Zyon is right there to kick Hawke in the chest to stand him up. Zyon fights back with a series of forearms of his own. He runs off the ropes, right arm extended for a lariat, but Hawke ducks underneath, wraps his opponent around the waist, and takes Zyon over with a German suplex, holding onto the bridge: ONE! TWO! Zyon manages to roll over onto his stomach to break the count, and he makes his way back to his feet. Hawke goes for another German suplex, but Zyon hangs onto the ropes like he’s a spider monkey to prevent himself from being taken over. Hawke forearms Zyon in the back to loosen his grip of the ropes, then throws Zyon backwards for another German suplex. Zyon lands on his feet and locks in a waistlock, pushing the Dean of Professional Wrestling forward into the ropes and taking him down with a rolling reverse cradle: ONE! TWO! THR -- Jay Hawke kicks out with little problem, even though the suddenness of the move nearly caught him napping. Both men get to their feet, and Jay Hawke nearly decapitates the Unique Youth with a lariat and drops down for the cover, hooking the left leg: ONE! TWO! Kickout. Pete: “What fast action so far! These two men have been pulling out all the stops in the opening few minutes, and each man has scored a series of near falls!” King: “So far, Zyon has kept Hawke off-balance with his spot monkey offense, but once Hawke can completely turn this into a wrestling match, I think the result’s going to be different here.” Jay Hawke begins to pull the challenger to his feet, but the challenger throws a series of weak elbows to the midsection. Jay Hawke catches Zyon with a slightly harder forearm smash, then whips him into the ropes, catching him coming back with a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker. Hawke covers, hooking the right leg: ONE! TWO! Kickout. Pete: “A near fall.” King: “See? The second it comes back to wrestling, Hawke gets the near fall.” Pete: “Well, if Zyon can frustrate Hawke and catch him with one of those big high-flying moves, he can get the upset here.” King: “But as Hawke chokes Zyon across the middle rope, I think the champion’s showing that he’s not going to get that flustered that easily.” Hawke breaks the choke against the ropes at Scott Ryder’s four count, and the crowd begins to show their displeasure at the champion’s tactics: “JAY HAWKE SUCKS! JAY HAWKE SUCKS! JAY HAWKE SUCKS!” King: “Oh, that’s brilliant by this crowd. Piss the champion off so he just tries even harder to finish the challenger off.” Jay Hawke drags Zyon into the corner, catching him with a rare closed-fist punch to the face. The champion’s arrogance begins to get the better of him, as instead of following up, he motions for the challenger to fight out of the corner. Pete: “I don’t know if I’d do this.” King: “I would. It’s fun.” With no fight coming, Jay Hawke levels Zyon with three forearm smashes, with Scott Ryder begging the champion to bring it to the middle of the ring. Funyon: “Five minutes have gone by, 55 minutes remain in the time limit.” Hawke again motions for Zyon to fight back before landing another forearm blow. The crowd begins to rally behind Zyon as the champion moves in. This time the Unique Youth ducks a forearm and changes positions with the champion, getting a rapid fire series of forearms to the side of Jay Hawke’s face. Zyon then tries to whip Hawke into the opposite corner. Hawke reverses, but Zyon has enough awareness to hook the top rope and catch the incoming Hawke with a head scissors, spin around, and take the champion over. Hawke again gets to his feet, and Zyon goes for a more conventional flying head scissors. Sensing it coming, Hawke hooks his challenger by the waist and spins him around, dropping him into a side slam. Hawke covers, hooking the left leg: ONE! T--kickout. Pete: “Give Hawke credit for countering the move, but you’re not going to pin Zyon off of a move like that.” King: “Sure you will. You just have to do it more than once.” Pete: “But Hawke’s arrogance is costing him thus far. Everytime he seems to have the match in hand, he waits just that split-second too long and gives Zyon an opening.” Zyon stands up, doubled over, and Jay Hawke immediately takes him down with a swinging neck breaker. Although hurt, Zyon immediately tries to get to his feet, but Jay Hawke brings him down by driving a couple of elbows into the back of the challenger’s neck. He then straddles his opponent’s back, sitting down and applying the chinlock. Pete: “Into a camel clutch, and Hawke is beginning to work the neck.” King: “Set up brilliantly by the neck breaker, followed by those elbows, and although the Wing Span primarily affects the shoulder, it does hurt the neck as well. This is brilliant strategy. Slow Zyon down and set up the Wing Span.” With the Unique Youth trapped in the hold, the crowd begins to clap in an attempt to rally their favorite on. Zyon manages to get his arms off of Hawke’s knees and pushes on the mat to alleviate the pressure. Sensing the grip on the hold weakening, Zyon reaches for Hawke’s left leg and pulls, tripping the champion forward and successfully breaking the hold. Pete: “Beautiful counter by Zyon out of that camel clutch! I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before!” King: “Neither have I! Most men would have just crawled to the ropes and been done with it!” Both men get to their feet, and Zyon runs off the ropes to gain momentum. He charges the champion, who levels him coming in with a clothesline and falls right into the cover: ONE! TWO! Kickout. Pete: “And just that quickly Hawke picks up another near fall, but you see the quickness of Zyon. He was right to his feet and right at the champion full speed.” King: “Just think of Hawke as the tortoise and Zyon as the hare. Slow and steady is going to win this race to the International Title.” Jay Hawke slowly brings Zyon up to his feet. He smiles, leans back, and levels Zyon with a forearm smash with such force that Zyon is immediately back down to the canvas. Hawke again pulls Zyon to his feet, and he hits Zyon with an even stiffer forearm that once again knocks Zyon to the mat. This time the crowd begins to tell Hawke how they feel about the situation: “JAY HAWKE SUCKS! JAY HAWKE SUCKS! JAY HAWKE SUCKS!” An arrogant Hawke again picks Zyon up off the canvas. This time the challenger blocks a forearm, then grabs the back of Hawke’s head and drops to his knees. Hawke’s chin hits Zyon’s head on the way down, and the champion staggers backwards holding his jaw. Pete: “The champion’s arrogance might have cost him right there, King!” King: “Yeah, it may have, but it might have just delayed the inevitable for Zyon.” Hawke charges back in, but this time it’s Zyon with the forearm smashes -- three, four, five of them in rapid succession -- that back Hawke into the ropes. Zyon tries to whip Hawke into the ropes, but Hawke reverses. Zyon ducks underneath a clothesline and bounces off the other set of ropes, then flips over Hawke in an attempt to take the champion over with a sunset flip. Hawke sits down and tries for a right hand, but Zyon slides away from it, causing the champion to hit nothing but canvas. Hawke shakes the pain out of his hand, but Zyon is already running into the ropes. Zyon goes for a clothesline, but Hawke ducks and grabs Zyon into a waistlock before throwing him backwards with a release German suplex that leaves Zyon folded up in a heap on the mat. “OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” The champion immediately covers, hooking the right leg: ONE! TWO! Kickout. Pete: “Only the count of two! Zyon has a hell of a lot of fight left in him!” King: “Does he have enough in him to take the International Championship though? The way he landed, that move right there had to do a lot of damage to Zyon’s neck.” As Zyon tries to pull himself to his feet, Jay Hawke stands behind his challenger. Zyon gets to his feet, and Hawke goes for the crossface chickenwing portion of the Wing Span, only for Zyon to shift his weight and take the champion over with a lightning fast arm drag takedown. Pete: “Beautiful counter to the Wing Span by Zyon!” King: “Granted, but I’m surprised Hawke went for it this early. He hasn’t done much work to the shoulder yet at all!” A frustrated Hawke gets to his feet and charges Zyon, but Zyon dips his shoulder and backdrops the champion, sending him flying over the top rope to the arena floor. Pete: “That could be the mistake Zyon needed. Hawke’s been a little too confident here, and that could lead to his downfall!” Jay Hawke walks around ringside, trying to catch his breath. He doesn’t see Zyon in the ring, who runs off the ropes for a suicide dive…only for referee Scott Ryder to stand in front of him and prevent him from completing the move. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Pete: “What is that all about?” King: “Hey, finally a good call from this official! This is essentially a timeout for the champion, and he should be allowed to utilize it!” Scott Ryder turns and leans out of the ring, reminding Hawke he needs to beat the ten count back in. As he does so, Zyon runs off the ropes again, this time using the referee’s back as a springboard and somersaulting over the top rope onto a surprised International Champion. “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! ZY-ON! ZY-ON! ZY-ON!” Pete: “My God, what a move!” King: “He should be automatically disqualified for that! You are not allowed to abuse an official that way!” Pete: “That’s a bit of a stretch, isn’t it?” Despite having plenty of time left in the referee’s ten count, Zyon is aware that he can’t win the title on a countout. He rolls the champion back into the ring, then hops up onto the ring apron. Using the top rope as a springboard, the challenger leaps, catching the Dean of Professional Wrestling with a sensational springboard leg drop. He immediately covers, hooking the right leg: ONE! TWO! TH -- kickout! Funyon: “Ten minutes have gone by, 50 minutes remain in the time limit.” Pete: “Maybe half a count away of crowning a new champion there, but Zyon is in control of this contest!” King: “Yeah, but he’s going to need to put together a string of these moves if he wants to take the title belt home with him tonight!” As Hawke gets to his feet, Zyon is right there to level Hawke with a series of forearm smashes. He whips the champion into the ropes, then goes for a hiptoss. Once Jay Hawke is vertical, Zyon slips his arm behind Hawke’s neck, driving him down to the canvas with a neck breaker. Pete: “The Disconnect! That’s got the champion hurting here!” King: “But he isn’t going for the cover! He should be trying to finish him off right here!” Both men get to their feet, and both are right back down, thanks to Zyon’s spinning heel kick to the International Champion’s face. Then Zyon decides to take a chance. He climbs up to the top rope. Hawke stands and charges, and Zyon harmlessly leaps over Hawke, landing on his feet as Hawke’s momentum has him climbing up to the middle turnbuckle. Hawke spins around, but Zyon leaps up and locks in a head scissors, only for Jay Hawke to hang on and bring Zyon down with a power bomb. Zyon tries to maneuver his way out of it, but he ends up landing on his side, the full force of the impact being felt on his left shoulder. “OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Pete: “Oh no! A tremendous counter by Jay Hawke there, but I think Zyon landed on his shoulder!” King: “There’s no ‘think’ about it, MacDougal! He landed flush on his shoulder, and that’s the opening the champion needed to put this one away!” That is exactly the opening the champion needed. He immediately grabs Zyon’s left arm and twists it, yanking on it to stretch the ligaments in the shoulder. He twists it again, then drops the arm over his shoulder. And again. And one more. Jay Hawke then hooks the arm into a hammerlock, spins Zyon around, and pushes him forward, driving Zyon’s shoulder directly into the ringpost. Pete: “Oh my! That is going to do a lot of damage to Zyon right there!” King: “And Zyon did this to himself! He tried to counter the power bomb, ended up landing on his shoulder, and now it’s simply a matter of Jay Hawke deciding when the shoulder’s hurt enough to lock the Wing Span in.” Not allowing Zyon time to rest, Jay Hawke begins stomping at the left shoulder. Zyon gets to his feet and begins to forearm Hawke in the face, but Hawke stops the assault with one punch to the shoulder. Hawke then grabs the arm in an armbar, drops down into a single-arm DDT, and holds on, putting all his weight on the challenger’s shoulder as he pulls back. King: “And there you have it! Single-arm DDT into a Fujiwara armbar, and I don’t think you need to worry about Hawke’s arrogance costing him anything now! Now he’s out to rip the shoulder right out of Zyon’s socket!” Zyon is clearly in intense pain, but he doesn’t appear to be anywhere close to tapping out. Despite that, the crowd begins to rally behind their hero: “LET’S GO ZY-ON! *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP!* LET’S GO ZY-ON! *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP!* LET’S GO ZY-ON! *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP!*” The crowd’s chants motivate Zyon to fight the pain, and he begins to pull himself toward the ropes. Hawke tries to put more pressure on the hold, but with Zyon fighting for his very survival, he reaches forward and grabs the bottom rope. Scott Ryder asks Jay Hawke to break the hold, but Hawke hangs on until Ryder reaches four on his disqualification count. Pete: “And there’s resilience on the part of Zyon. Hawke might have been ready to tear that shoulder out of the socket, but Zyon manages to reach the ropes and force the break.” King: “But at what cost? I know he wants to win this title, particularly after losing two shots at the World Tag Team Titles over the past month, but is it worth his career ending?” Jay Hawke grabs a hold of Zyon’s wrist and pulls him to the center of the ring. He drives a couple of elbows right to the insertion of the shoulder, then uncharacteristically climbs to the top rope. Still hanging on to the wrist, he leaps, driving the challenger down to the mat with a flying single-arm DDT. Zyon lets out a scream as he clutches at the shoulder. Pete: “My God! A move like that could break somebody’s arm!” Jay Hawke falls into the cover, digging the point of the elbow into Zyon’s shoulder as Scott Ryder counts: ONE! TWO! Kickout. Pete: “And yet somehow Zyon manages to kick out.” King: “And notice what’s happened. For ten minutes, this match was more toward Zyon’s pace, and the match was pretty even. Now the champion has slowed the pace down, and Hawke is in complete control.” The Dean of Professional Wrestling gets a couple of kicks to the Unique Youth’s shoulder, then applies a hammerlock, pulling on it until it’s almost a chickenwing. Pete: “Look at Hawke yanking back on that arm, applying full pressure here! How does one combat this offense?” King: “It’s simple. If Zyon wants to fight the pain, he’s going to need to work his way out of the hold and get some type of quick pin that doesn’t affect the shoulder. Look at his face, Pete. That’s the look of a man who’s ready to quit but is too damn proud to think of the big picture.” Pete: “You think three minutes of shoulder work is going to cost Zyon his career?” King: “No. But Hawke’s still got about 46 minutes or so to keep working on the shoulder, and that could cost Zyon his career.” Zyon is able to muster enough strength to pull himself to the side of the ring and grab the bottom rope. The referee calls for the break, but Hawke drives a series of knees into the shoulders until the referee reaches the count of four. Jay Hawke, seeing Zyon’s shoulder hanging at his side, yells, “Come on and fight, Zarquon!” Zyon grimaces from the pain as he makes his way to his knees, and Hawke goes right back into the hammerlock. After a few seconds, Hawke adds the chickenwing, then leaps up and scissors the free arm with his legs. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Pete: “And there’s the Wing Span! Jay Hawke has his finishing move applied here, and this might be the end for Zyon’s championship dreams!” King: “Might be? I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody get out of this hold unless they reached the ropes, and Zyon might be too far away from the ropes to do that!” Funyon: “Fifteen minutes have gone by, 45 minutes remain in the time limit.”

“King would you believe it if I told you that our next match is set inside FAO Schwarz?” Pete asks looking for a way to set up the next match. “Sure I believe ya Pete, I’ll also buy some of that Florida Swamp land you’ve got sitting around” King replies mocking Pete for asking such a stupid question. “Then whip out your wallet as this next match is broadcast live via the SWF on location crew and the FAO Schwarz security closed circuit cameras. From Fifth Avenue on Manhattan, this is the SWF Hardcore title match” Pete says looking forward to a match where he just leans back and enjoys the action. The shot cuts from King and Longdogger Pete at ringside to just inside the front doors at FAO Schwarz NY. In the background we can hear the huge 3 story clock tower playing “Welcome to our world of toys” while the camera pans over the store where not a single person is seen moving. Then the picture switches to a close up of the SWF Cruiserweight champion’s face. So stoic, so unemotional as he awaits his opponent – so… rendered in plastic?? As the camera zooms out it reveals that it’s not J.J. Johnson but instead the latest SWF Action Figure (from the Epinephrine series) of the Cruiserweight champion. Complete with a little rubber cruiserweight title around his waist and everything. As the camera zooms out we see Bruce in the background looking around the store for Johnson. Then he sees the action figure on the ground and smiles. “GOTCHA!!” Bruce rushes towards the little plastic figure, then he quickly stomps on it and then keeps his foot down on the pieces of it while laughing. “HA! HA!! Referee count damn it!!” Referee Izzy Slappowitch comes out from behind a pile of plush toys and starts to explain to Bruce that it’s not really JJ Johnson but an action figure “Action figure?? Naw man I’ve seen the shrimp. This is life sized!” Bruce lifts his cowboy boot and then brings the heel down hard on the action figure once more, breaking it into tiny pieces. Bruce adjusts his cowboy hat and makes sure his Hardcore title is strapped on right while he waits for J.J. Johnson “BY THE POWER OF GREYSKULL!!” “The hell” is all Bruce can say as he turns around to find out where the sound came from. He spots Johnson perched on top of a shelving unit filled with beanie babies, holding a plastic sword up in the air. Unfortunately for Bruce by the time he realizes what he’s looking at Johnson has leapt off the 10 foot tall shelves and brought the sword down on top or Bruce’s head. *POW!!* “BY THE POWER OF GREY…” *POW!!* Johnson quickly smacks Bruce over the head again, knocking his cowboy hat off. “BY THE POWER OF..”” *POW!!* “BY THE POWER...” *POW!!* “BY THE… *POW!!* Johnson looks at the sword, whishing that it would just shut the hell up already. “BY… *POW!!* The last blow to Bruce’s head broke the plastic sword and shattered the little voice box in it. Unfortunately for J.J. Johnson it did not make for a very good weapon as Bruce just kinda stares at him, pisssed off at being slapped with a bit of plastic and having his hat knocked off but not much more than that. Uh-oh *BLAM!!* Bruce’s stiff lariat almost turns Johnson inside out as it catches him off guard. Johnson quickly finds himself tossed face first into the side of the fountain in the lobby, then Bruce quickly grabs his Canadian opponent by the back of his head and… *SPLASH!* Dunks him in the water, submerging his head. Johnson struggles to get free from the grip but Bruce maintains his hold on Johnson’s hair and keeps him down. Then he pulls Johnson out of the water, soaked and gasping for air. “GIVE UP YOU GNOME!!” *SPLASH!* Once more Bruce shoves JJ’s head underwater and holds it there as Johnson thrashes with arms and legs to get out. Then he pulls Johnson’s head out of the water with a sadistic grin to see if he’s ready to give up yet. “HAD ENO…” *PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFHH!!* Johnson just spat a mouthful of water at Bruce’s face, then he follows up by pulling Bruce’s head down into a stiff right knee to the side of Bruce’s face. J.J. lays in a quick sweeping kick that knocks Bruce off his feet before he jumps on the big man and starts to lay the stiff shots in with both lefts and rights to Bruce’s face. All Bruce can do to protect himself is to try and put his arms up to weather the storm of lefts and rights that Johnson is laying into Bruce. Bruce bucks upwards using all his strength to throws Johnson off him sending him rolling across the tile floor. Bruce is up quickly but Johnson is even quicker as he runs the 6 steps that separate them. The Cruiserweight champion ducks under Bruce’s lariat attempt hooks his left arm around Bruce’s neck to spin behind but, then using his momentum he pulls Bruce hard backwards driving Bruce backwards into the ground with a high speed version of a Side Russian leg sweep. The cruiserweight champion quickly follows up as he unstraps the Hardcore title that has been around Bruce’s waist until now. Then he quickly brings the large metal plate down hard over the back of Bruce’s head. Johnson throws the Hardcore title to the side and then quickly hooks one of Bruce’s legs for a cover ONE!! TWO!! But that’s all he gets before Bruce kicks out, the big man is very far from being beaten tonight. Johnson quickly shows that he’s not just a shoot fighter as he flips over backwards in a standing moonsault nailing Bruce right in the solar plexus, but instead of going for another pinfall attempt he keeps up the assault focusing especially on Bruce’s left arm and shoulder with a series of kicks. Johnson pulls Bruce by the hair bringing the big man back to his feet before laying a stiff kick in across Bruce’s chest *BLAM!* “SON OF A BI..” *BLAM!* The second kick shuts Bruce up and knocks him backwards a few steps before he falls down again. Johnson keeps up the assault like a rabid pitbull running towards Bruce and then *DING!* Johnson looks down and sees a giant piano keyboard on the ground easily 20 feet wide with the key he stepped on still lit up. Johnson quickly grabs Bruce by the hair and starts to ram the back of Bruce’s head into the piano repeatedly. Ding-Ding-Ding……DIIIING!! Ding-Ding-Ding……DIIIING!! Johnson seems intent to play a whole concert with the back of Bruce’s head but Bruce kills the music as he manages to put a hand in Johnson’s face and raking his eyes in a move born out of pure desperation. Bruce rolls over on his stomach and slowly gets to his knees trying to shake the blows to his head. Meanwhile Johnson has regained his eyesight, sees that Bruce is in a very vulnerable position and aims a kick straight at Bruce’s head… Which is blocked by Bruce who takes the kick right on his biceps instead of his face and then bowls Johnson down by throwing his shoulders into Johnson’s legs. The Hardcore champion gets to his feet, holding his left arm, then he quickly kicks Johnson right in the forehead. After shaking his arms a few times to bring some feeling back to it he grabs Johnson, pulls him to his feet and then attempts to flip him over his head for a power bomb. JJ rolls with the lift, flips over Bruce’s back and lands on the floor behind him. A quick high knee to the back of Bruce sends the big man forward crashing head first into a pile of toys sending plastic dinosaurs and other bargain bin items flying. *CRASH!* Johnson picks up a Super Soaker water gun and holds it by the barrel like a baseball bat, while waiting for Bruce to get back to his feet. As Bruce emerges from the pine Johnson swings for the fences nailing Bruce over the head shattering the plastic toy. *BAM!* Johnson sees a little green tube on the ground, grabs it and then takes hold of Bruce’s hands. After a moment Johnson has managed to trap Bruce’s right and left index finger in the Chinese Finger Trap he found on the ground. JJ backs off, smirking as Bruce gets to his feet again. Bruce tries to attack Johnson but the finger trap prevents him from doing it. Bruce holds up both his hands and just stares at the finger trap, trying to figure out what the hell the contraption on his fingers is. He thinksthat he can just snap it and begins to pull on it, using all his power to try and pull the little green weaved tube apart. Johnson lets him try to break free for a moment before he picks up a leather jump rope, wraps his hand around both handles and then brings it forward in an arching motion. *WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-PISH!!* “ARRRRGH!!” The jump rope lashed Bruce right across the back, leaving a long black welt on his skin. JJ snaps the jump rope forward lashing Bruce across the back once more *WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-PISH!!* Johnson grabs both ends of the jump rope, wraps it around Bruce’s throat and then jumps up on the big man’s back choking him out. Bruce tries to get a hand under the jump rope but the finger trap on his index fingers makes it impossible for him to even attempt it. Bruce bends forward very quickly to throw Johnson over his head, in a move that probably looked more graceful in his head. Johnson lands on his feet, leap frogs over a charging Bruce and then scales a stuffed toy display. When Bruce turns around he’s too late to block Johnson coming off a platform 8 feet up. Johnson flips over Bruce’s head, grabs the big man around the jaw and brings him crashing down on the floor with a lethal looking Blockbuster neck breaker. *THUD!* Johnson quickly follows up on the high impact move and covers the prone Bruce Blank. ONE!!! TWO!!! THR-NO!! Bruce actually manages to lift up his shoulder. Johnson tries to hold Bruce’s arms down but the finger trap prevents him from doing it. JJ reluctantly removes the finger trap from Bruce’s hands, then forces both shoulders to the ground while sitting across Bruce’s abdomen. ONE!!! TWO!!! THR-BRIDGEBYBRUCE!! Bruce bridges up his entire body lifting his shoulders up in the air and bringing his shoulders off the ground. Johnson quickly leaps up in the air and brings down both his knees in Bruce’s abdomen with force. “HUUUUUURRRH!!” Johnson hooks one of Bruce’s legs and goes for another pinfall. ONE!!! TWO!!! THRE-OHSOCLOSE!! Somehow Bruce manages to get a shoulder up once more, showing that you have to be a real tough son of a bitch to hold the Hardcore title in SWF. Johnson leaps to his feet and then drags the 295 pound monster back to a vertical base. Johnson quickly tears the front of Bruce’s flannel shirt open and then lays in a hard knife edge chop *CHOP!!* Of course the trademark “WOOOOOOOO” that usually follows a chop isn’t heard tonight, with just Bruce, JJ and the referee in the main store and all. JJ pulls a shopping cart from the cart holder and then quickly runs at Bruce with full speed, ramming the steel mesh of the cart right into Bruce’s midsection. *CRASH!!* As Bruce is bent over he pulls the big man up into the cart. Then he turns it around so that Bruce is facing the direction they’re moving in and begins to push Bruce towards the check out counter. Bruce looks up just in time to see the counter coming at him at high speed but not fast enough to prevent Johnson from ramming the cart AND Bruce into the side of the check out counter. *SMASH!!* The momentum sends Bruce off the cart and then rams his head right into the barcode reader next to the cash register. His head shatters the glass and cuts his right side open. J.J. pulls the bent cart away, grabs Bruce by the hair and then slams Bruce’s head against the glass of the barcode reader once more. *SMASH!!* *BEEP!* J.J. Johnson pauses for a second, then he looks at the cash register display with curiosity. It reads “Alabama Man $29.95” Johnson goes on the attack again, grabbing Bruce by the hair trying to smash Bruce Blank’s head against the glass once more to inflict even more damage. But before J.J. Johnson can do that successfully Bruce reaches for the hand scanner in desperation. Then he quickly grips it with his right hand and presses it against Johnson’s eyes activating the laser! “AARRRGH!!” J.J. Johnson immediately lets go of Bruce and then staggers away while clutching his face, covering his eyes. The laser of the hand scanner seems to have at least temporarily given Bruce a breather. The big man just lays on the counter for a minute or two, blood flowing from the cuts on the right side of his face. Bruce finally moves, he gets up and drops off the counter to his feet. He staggers a bit as he finally regains his breath and begins to shake some of the effects of the brutal onslaught by J.J. Johnson. When he finally looks up he’s surprised to see that J.J. Johnson is nowhere to be found. Bruce chuckles, his first thought is that Johnson has run away, but then he shakes that notion off and begins to look for him. He walks down one of the aisles of the stuffed toy section, peeking round each corner to try and spot Johnson. Then he suddenly stops for a moment, reaches up to the right side of his head, feels the blood and cuts before he pulls out a little shard of glass that was stuck in his ear. He looks at it for a moment, but then drops it to resume his search for JJ Johnson. His search is cut short as a whistling sound is heard coming towards Bruce. *WHIZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!* *POP!* Bruce stands there in the aisle with stuffed farm yard animals and looks at the suction cup arrow that’s now stuck to his forehead. Then he sees J.J. Johnson at the end of the aisle, still blinking heavily as he’s still trying to shake the effects of the laser. Bow raised in the air, another suction cup arrow drawn from the quiver, ready to fire at Bruce, hoping he had enough of an aim to hit Bruce again. Fortunately for Johnson Bruce was a big target, unfortunately for Bruce though. “Ha! Is that supposed to hurt?” Bruce asks with a grin as he pulls the first arrow off his forehead with a pop. Johnson looks at the big man, then he looks at the tip of the arrow. Johnson quickly brings the suction cup tip up to his mouth, bites it and pulls off the suction cup leaving just the long hard plastic shaft of the arrow. *P-TOI!!* Johnson spits out the suction cup, then he tightens the bow and aims at Bruce again. “Oh-Oh!” is all Bruce can say as he turns around and starts to haul ass as quickly as his massive frame and beat up state will allow him. *WHIZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!* An arrow zips right past Bruce, missing his ear by mere inches just as Bruce turns a corner and runs towards the knights and warriors section. Bruce quickly grabs a toy shield off one of the shelves and places it between himself and the still attacking Johnson. *WHIZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!* Bruce’s eyes widen as the arrow pierces right through the plastic shield. He quickly throws it down and runs around another corner to get out of harms way. Johnson chases after him, but as he turns the corner he can’t see Bruce anywhere. Moments later he’s distracted by a huge stuffed Gozilla toy falling over. A moments distraction is all Bruce needs as he attacks Johnson from behind with a double axe handle blow to the back of the skull. Johnson is knocked to the ground, dropping the bow and the arrow, not able to get them back before Bruce kicks him in the ribs with his pointy cowboy boot. Then Bruce takes two steps back, measures his target and quickly lands a running knee drop to Johnson’s face *CRUNCH!* After a sickening crunch J.J’s nose begins to bleed. Seeing the blood of his opponent only spurs Bruce on even more as he drags Johnson to his feet. Then he wraps his right hand around Johnson’s throat and grabs his trunks with the left one and lifts him up in the air. Bruce struggles a little bit trying to press Johnson over his head as he’s still feeling the effects of the massive beat down Johnson gave him earlier on. But he manages to press Johnson over his head, only staggering backwards about a step or so. Bruce is about to drop Johnson face first when he notices that he’s moving backwards And upwards. Bruce has stepped onto the escalator and now he’s holding Johnson pressed over his head as the escalator lifts them both towards the 2nd floor. Bruce looks around, trying to figure out if he should drop Johnson over the side or not. But in the end he decides to wait and just stands there, Cruiserweight champion pressed over his head as the escalator brings them both upwards like it was the most normal thing in the world. As Bruce steps off the escalator on the 2nd floor he starts to bring his arms and J.J. forward trying to toss him over the railing on the 2nd floor down into the open lobby of the 1st floor. But Johnson has had time to recover while being hoisted up in the air, so he quickly blocks the attempt by placing his feet on the top of the rail. Then he runs 6 or 7 steps down the rail and leaps onto the safe floor of the 2nd story. When he turns around Bruce is gone. Johnson wipes some of the blood from his nose and starts to look around for him. A big man like Bruce cannot hide that many places after all. He wanders into “Puppet Park” looking at all the puppets on display, wondering how many of them were smarter than Bruce He estimated about 95% of them probably, maybe 97% As he looked to his left a Lamb chop puppet pops up in the little puppet theatre behind J.J. Johnson. Johnson looks right, the puppet looks right – then sniggers a little. Johnson sees motion out of the corner of his eyes, spins around fists raised ready to hit someone and sees the puppet. For a moment he almost laughs, but that moment passes as Bruce’s massive arm springs out of the puppet theatre with the Lamb chop doll on it’s hand and blasts Johnson right on his “most probably broken” nose. *POW!!* Johnson falls backwards holding his face in pain as Bruce stands up, pulling the puppet theatre apart with his wide frame. He looks kinda funny with a lamb chop puppet on one hand, even with the blood splattered all over the puppet from Johnson’s face. Johnson tries to stand back up but Bruce lands a running big boot that sends J.J. flying backwards crashing into a huge pyramid of Gamecube consoles. *CRASH!!* Bruce takes a moment to pull the blood-soaked Lamb chop off his hand before dragging Johnson out of the pile of broken Gamecubes. He lifts J.J. up on his shoulder, facing forward and then quickly throws Johnson face first onto the checkout counter in the games section in a Snake Eyes type drop. The forward momentum of the move sends Johnson over the counter where he lands on the ground with a thud. *THUD!* Exactly Moments later Bruce makes his way around the counter to keep up the attack on J.J. – but his onslaught is stopped as a silvery disk comes flying right at him, striking him on the left hand. *CRACK!* “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRH!!” Bruce looks down and sees that his left pinkie finger is at a really weird and painful looking angle. Amazed that a single CD disk thrown at him could do this kind of damage it takes him a moment to realize that his finger is well and truly broken. Johnson leaps off the counter trying to catch Bruce with a drop kick but the big man steps out of the way sending Johnson crashing to the ground. Bruce reaches down under the counter and finds a roll of brown packing tape. He quickly snaps his finger back into a somewhat normal position with a sickening crunch and then starts to tape his finger down to the rest of his hand, preventing it from moving any further. Bruce tears off the roll of tape ready to go on, but he’s given Johnson much too much time to recover and turns right into a stiff hard circle kick right across the chest. *BOOM!* The kick knocks Bruce backwards, knocking down a shelving unit of Playstation 2 games (Including the next SWF: Genesis VI game that’s due out tomorrow). Johnson follows up with a hard knee to the side of the downed Bruce knocking the big man into the action figures section. J.J. pauses for a moment looking at the latest line of SWF action figures. He looks a little angry that they still display the SWF Cruiserweight title in the package with the Scott Pretzler action figures. Shaking off his irritation Johnson jumps up on a display and then quickly springboards backwards straight towards Bruce… …Who catches him in mid air. It seems that Johnson gave him too much time to regain his senses. Bruce quickly drops J.J. face first into a huge pile of discount action figures and toys. He notices something on one of the shelves, grabs the box and quickly spells his way though the title. With a smile he tears the box open and puts on these two humongous fists that look like they’re wearing white gloves. “Oh yeah baby” Bruce says with an excited grin as he throws down the torn up box that says “Crimson Skull Hands” before turning his attention back to JJ Johnson. Johnson emerges from the pile of toys, spits out a Snake Eyes G.I. Joe figure and then turns around only to face a stiff right hand by Bruce *ZOOOOOOOM!!!* Bruce just grins and then lands a left hand to the gut of the Cruiserweight champion. *SWOP!!!* The impact and the added power of the “Crimson Skull Hands” drives Johnson back against the back of the display where Bruce quickly starts to lay in the blows hard and fast. *BIIIIIIIIF!* *TWONK!!* *ZAAAARK!!* *BLADDOW!!* *BE— Bruce looks at the right “Crimson Skull Hand”, shakes it trying to get it to work again while cursing at the coloured piece of foam and plastic “Will you work you piece of S…” Before Bruce can say anything else Johnson shakes the effects of the padded fist gloves and repays the favour with the SUPA-KICK~! Right upside the head. The kick sends droplets of blood spewing everywhere from the vicious snap it has to it. *SMACK!!* Bruce falls backwards from the impact, backwards and through the doors of the GO-2-FLOOR-2 transformer slash elevator located on the 2nd floor of FAO Schwarz. Momentarily surprised by Bruce’s fall into the elevator car Johnson doesn’t respond in time to prevent the doors from closing, and can only stand and watch the elevator rising slowly until the 3rd floor indicator is lit up. Johnson is livid as he kicks over a display full of Pokemon, making extra sure to step on the Ash Ketchum figure before going over to push the button for the elevator himself. Then he patiently waits as he wipes some of the blood from his nose off with a Yu-Gi-Oh bedspread. … He looks at the button and even though it’s lit up he does what everyone else does. He pushes the button again, cause repeated button pressing is well known to bring the elevator to you much quicker. Whe he sees the elevator decent again he decides that he needs a weapon. He looks around and smiles as he quickly runs over and grabs a tennis racket off a “Tennis-mon” display (it’s the latest craze – Tennis monsters!!). Testing it’s balance with a practice swings Johnson runs towards the elevator as the door opens. He leaps through before the doors are fully opened, swings the racket and connects… *CRASH!!* …with the mirror on the wall. Bruce is not in the elevator it would seem after all. Johnson throws down the broken tennis racket, curses silently (cause he doesn’t really have another way of doing it) and then pushes the button for the 3rd floor. The security cameras pick up Johnson as he steps out of the elevator on the 3rd floor only moments later. He starts to look around trying to see where Bruce has gone, angry that he had not been able to capitalize on his SUPA-Kick that knocked Bruce into the elevator in the first place. “HEEEEEEEEE-AAAH!!” Johnson doesn’t seem to really notice the hissing breathing sound as he looks around, slowly searching through the giant Star Wars toy section on the 3rd floor. “HEEEEEEEEE-AAAH!!” He passes by a life size Darth Vader figure, complete with helmet and long flowing cape that covers up his entire body. Johnson stops for a moment and does a double take at the price tag on it. $5,000??!?!?! Then he shakes his head in disbelief and keeps looking around for Bruce. “HEEEEEEEEE-AAAH!!” *GASP!!* “Man how am I supposed to breathe in this thing!” JJ spins around to see Bruce pull off the Darth Vader helmet and then step down from the display. Behind him we see the helmet and capeless life size Vader figure on the floor now broken, with bloody hand prints all over it and not really worth that much. “Welcome to the dark side” Bruce throws back the cape to reveal a huge massive red lightsabre in his right hand which he waves at Johnson while smiling a wicket and arrogant smile. Johnson looks around, then quickly spots another lightsabre. He picks it up and tries to turn the purple lightsabre on but it’s not working. “Ah-ah-ah batteries not included” Bruce says with a grin. But Johnson doesn’t seem to care as he just launches himself at Bruce with the lightsabre swinging wildly in the air. *WEEEEE-OOO!!! WEEEEE-OW!!* Bruce quickly brings up his lightsabre to block the onslaught. *WEEEEEE-OW!* *KEEE-TISH!!* Bruce quickly pushes Johnson off and then takes a swing at him. Johnson almost seems to defy gravity as he leaps out of the way of the sabre by putting his foot on the edge of a TIE Fighter display flipping over backwards. Then he drops down in a split on the ground to get out of the way of another swing from Bruce. Bruce keeps swinging at Johnson who keeps leaping and flipping out of the way while Bruce swings and misses, or swings and is deflected *WEEEEEE-OOOW!* “Stand still you son of a!!” *WEEEEEE-OW!* *KEEE-TISH!!* Bruce has Johnson cornered and is quick to leap over a knocked over display and then run towards Johnson. Unfortunately for Bruce his long flowing black cape is snagged on a corner and quickly stops Bruce in his tracks *GAGH!!!* Bruce falls backwards, slamming his neck into the ground as the cape is well and truly stuck. Johnson walks towards Bruce, swinging his lightsabre in front of him, keeping on his guard. Bruce tears off his cape and gets to his knees. *WEEEEEE-OW!* *SMACK!!* The lightsabre catches Bruce right across the cheek and ear, the impact of the hard, thick plastic rod hurts more than you would think. “Wait… Wait!!” Bruce begs off, putting up a hand to stop the onslaught. “You must have watched at least 4 Star Wars movies” Johnson doesn’t say a word, he just lifts his hands in the air and shows Bruce 6 fingers to indicate that he’s seen them all “Aw crap” Johnson gets in the ready position with the lightsabre and motions to Bruce to “come on”. Bruce gets to his feet again, picks up his lightsabre, but instead of attacking he looks at something behind and to the left of J.J. Johnson. “Hey look is that Amidala at the end of Return of the Jedi?!” Johnson only looks away for a second, but that’s all Bruce needs as he snatches a mop off the wall and brings it down hard and fast over the neck of J. J. Johnson “SUCKER!!” *CRACK!!* Seconds later Bruce is on top or Johnson using the piece of the mop handle still in his hand to choke the cruiserweight champion out. Johnson tries desperately to squeeze a hand in between his throat and the wood but has no such luck. If Pete was commentating right now he’d point out that Bruce found the one weak spot on Johnson’s body, his throat But Pete isn’t commentating so you’ll all have to figure out that little tit-bit yourselves. “GIVE IT UP YOU BASTARD!” Bruce is the perfect picture of a psycho, bleeding from the right side of his head, eyes full of rage screaming at Johnson; who’s turning blue from being choked out by the mop handle. The referee keeps close tabs on it all to make sure Johnson isn’t tapping out without him noticing it. Bruce keeps applying the pressure as J.J. Johnson slowly fight to stay awake. Gasping for air as he starts to fade His eyes are glazing over and his struggle to free himself is dying down while Bruce just laughs like a mad man, a mad man with the whole right side of his head covered in blood. The referee quickly lifts Johnson’s arm in the air and then lets go to see if it drops ONCE!! Bruce just smiles as Johnson seems to be out cold. The referee lifts Johnson’s right arm up again and lets it drop TWICE!! The referee grabs Johnson’s arm a third time and releases it to see if it drops THRI-NO!! No J.J. manages to grab hold of the referee’s shirt and thus keeps his hand up in the air. Then he fires off an elbow to Bruce’s gut but seconds later his escape attempt is foiled as Bruce cracks him over the skull with the mop handle. Bruce grabs Johnson by the back of his tights and tosses him face first into a gumball machine that’s located in the “Collectible store” found on the 3rd floor. *CRASH!* The machine breaks sending brightly colored gumballs everywhere. Referee Izzy Slappowitch steps on a few and quickly ends up landing ass over elbow on the ground. Then as Bruce thinks no one is watching he grabs what appears to be a gold ring with a diamond on it off the counter and quickly pockets it. Bruce looks at the collectibles on display trying to find a weapon. He quickly passes by the baseball cards and bobble head figures. Then he sees the Spaceballs display Spaceballs the Lunchbox! He looks at it for a second, contemplating it. Then his eyes falls on something else which brings an evil, nasty smirk to his face Spaceballs the Flamethrower!!! Bruce picks up this extremely rare item used on the actual set of Spaceballs. He quickly presses the trigger to see if it works *FFFWWOOOOOOSSSHH!!!* A stream of fire shoots out from the nozzle, it works!! Bruce turns around and has every intention of using it on J.J. Johnson. As he presses the trigger again Johnson manages to grab a fire extinguisher and shoots off a stream of foam to prevent Bruce from burning him. *FFFWWOOOOOOSSSHH!!!* *TTSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHH!* Bruce tries again but once more Johnson manages to block it with the fire extinguisher foam *FFFWWOOOOOOSSSHH!!!* *TTSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHH!* *FFFWWOOOOOOSSSHH!!!* *TTSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHH!* *FFFWWOOOOOOSSSHH!!!* “AAAAAAAAAAARRRHHH! FIRE!!” On the last attempt Bruce managed to catch referee Izzy Slappowitch’s right sleeve on fire. He’s now running around in circles in a panic state with his arm ablaze. *TTSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHH!* “AAH! Thank god!” Johnson puts out the fire before it does too much damage but in doing so he turned his back on Bruce. Bruce is quick to use the flame thrower as he knocks J.J. Johnson over the back of the head with it. Then he grabs Johnson by the throat and the trunks and quickly presses him up over his head before JJ can recover from the shot to the back of the head. Bruce takes a step towards a huge glass display wall filled with porcelain dolls and pitches J.J. Johnson forwards *CRASH!!* Johnson hits the display case with such force that the glass shatters on impact throwing the Cruiserweight champion through the case and sending all the porcelain dolls and Johnson to the floor. Bruce just grins as he surveys the damage he’s caused. Johnson is bleeding profusely from his head and his right arm that he tried to protect himself with, there are glass shards and pieces of porcelain everywhere. Bruce cannot even lay down to cover Johnson because of all the glass shards so instead he casually puts his boot on Johnson’s chest and watches as Slappowitch has to count from 5 feet away to not cut up his hand ONE!! Bruce confidently raises his massive arms in the air TWO!!! THR-SHOULDERUP!! Bruce is pissed off; he’s livid that Johnson managed to lift up his shoulder. He decides to grab J.J. by the boot and then drags him out from the area with the glass shards, dragging a sick trail of blood behind Johnson. Then he gets down, hooks the leg and covers once more. ONE!!! TWO!!! THR-SHOULDERUP!! Bruce goes for a third cover but Johnson reacts almost on pure instinct as he grabs tight hold of a shard of glass that is in his hand and takes a blind swing at Bruce “AAAAAAAAAAAARRRGH!!” Johnson opens his eyes and sees the shard of glass embedded in Bruce’s forearm. Luckily for Bruce it’s heavily taped up with duct tape so the permanent damage is probably minimal but it still hurts like a bitch and it bleeds quite a lot too. Johnson pushes back away from Bruce as the big man tries to grab the slippery piece of glass and pull it out. The fact that it’s now covered in blood makes it even slipperier but finally Bruce manages to get it out of his left forearm. He gets to his feet, glass shard still in his hand looking at J.J. Johnson who’s backing away from Bruce and fast. Backing away, that is, until he ends up against the huge back wall of the 3rd floor which is stacked with every imaginable kind of Barbie doll and accessory you can think off. Bruce lunges at Johnson, glass shard raised in the air bringing it down in an arc that aims right at Johnson’s neck… … Only to impale itself on a box with the “Barbie Dream Trailer”, from their “Trailer Park Barbie” line. At the last moment Johnson desperately pulled a box off the shelf to block the attack. Bruce is momentarily surprised, then seconds later he’s on his knees holding his private parts “OOOOOOOOOOOHHH!!” J.J. had managed to land a very “un-UFC” low kick on Bruce while the big man was distracted. Johnson gets to his feet, takes his stance and then fires off a hard kick right across Bruce’s chest knocking him off his knees back against the wall. J.J. lines Bruce up for another stiff kick to the chest but as he brings his foot forward Bruce manages to pull a door in between Bruce and the leg *CRACK!!* J.J. hops on one foot holding his other leg which he just cracked the door to the stairs with. Bruce takes a moment to catch his breath as Johnson is still pre-occupied with his hurting right foot. Then he gets up, wraps his arms around Johnson’s waist from behind and starts to carry / drag Johnson towards the stairwell. Johnson tries to shoot a back elbow at Bruce but the big man tugs his head in to avoid it and keeps dragging the Cruiserweight champion towards the railing in the stairwell. Bruce lifts Johnson up and tries to throw him over the side but fortunately for J.J. he’s able to block it and prevent the 50 foot plummet. Johnson wraps his legs around the rail as Bruce tries his best to push him over the side, his big arms working over time to try and pry Johnson off the metal railing. Slowly he manages to pry one of Johnson’s legs free and flip him over the side so that he’s hanging from his hands only, with his back to Bruce. “You can’t do that!!” Izzy shouts as he jumps in between Bruce and J.J. Rules or no rules he cannot allow Bruce to try and kill Johnson by dropping him from the 4th floor down. Bruce just casually pushes him aside and then bends over the rail to push at Johnson *BAM!* Johnson is able to swing up and kick Bruce in the back of the head sending the big man back, head snapping from the impact. Then J.J. uses all his power and manages to flip himself back over the guard rail onto the concrete landing. J.J. goes up a few steps to get the height on Bruce for an aerial assault, but Bruce closes the gap too quickly for J.J. to take to the air. Instead he locks on a front facelock on Bruce, squeezing hard trying to cut Bruce’s air off as the big man lifts him into the air. Bruce pants and gasps for air as he walks up the stairs, Johnson still applying the front facelock while being carried by Bruce. Then Bruce stops, drops to a knee and lets Johnson back down on the ground. J.J. quickly wraps up Bruce’s right arm with his leg and then rolls him up in a variation on the Oklahoma side roll right there on the concrete floor of the staircase. ONE!! TWO!!! THR-AAARH!! Instead of breaking the count Bruce manages to use his free hand to reach out and poke the referee in the eye to break the count instead of kicking out. Johnson lets go of the pinning combination and then grabs Bruce’s legs instead in an attempt to get the sharpshooter applied. He steps through Bruce’s legs and places his foot on the ground, then he tries to cross Bruce’s legs before he can turn the big man over. Bruce’s legs are just so massive that he’s having a hard time applying it. Then, just as it looks like he’s going to turn Bruce over, the big man kicks back sending Johnson crashing through the door to the 4th floor. Bruce gets to his feet and exits the staircase entering the main store. Johnson comes leaping onto Bruce. He swiftly catches Johnson and tries to turn it into a Gorilla press but his left arm just won’t extend all the way, making Bruce drop his opponent behind him. Lady Luck smiles on J.J. as he lands on a table behind Bruce. Then he leaps off towards Bruce, grabs him around the head with his right arm trying for a Tornado DDT. Bruce’s arms shoot up and blocks the attempt holding the much lighter Johnson’s body up in the air while he’s still got the front headlock on. Johnson quickly shifts his bodyweight and brings his legs down hard under Bruce’s right armpit drilling Bruce into a Lego Brick pit head first. *CRASH!!* Little coloured bricks fly everywhere from the impact. Johnson pushes Bruce over and covers him, but he cannot pin Bruce as Bruce’s shoulders are not touching the ground. There are about 5 million Lego bricks between his shoulders and the ground actually. Johnson grabs the massive Bruce by the legs and then drags the big man off the pit of Lego bricks, dropping him on the floor. Izzy Slappowitch turns a little pale as he sees a small blue brick lodged in Bruce’s forehead. Not just stuck to it, LODGED into it! Johnson starts to climb up a shelving unit, but when he’s about half way up he looks at Bruce for a moment, as if he’s trying to decide if he wants to go for a flying headbutt or not. Then after a moment’s contemplation he decides to leap off and just lands a flying stomp to Bruce’s left arm instead. Perhaps the Lego brick lodged in Bruce’s head made him reconsider his actions. Johnson makes a cutting motion through the air with both hands to signal that “it’s over” before he grabs onto Bruce’s left arm and begins to wrap his legs around it to apply the figure four on the arm that’s the first step in the Frostbite. Johnson has a hard time holding on to Bruce’s blood soaked wrist and he’s got a few problems applying the lock on the massive arm as well. But finally he manages to lock on the figure four arm lock. He nods violently as he attempts to put his leg over Bruce’s head, if he can just lock on the second half of the move Bruce will have no escape and no way of surviving the match. Bruce tries desperately to hold off JJ’s other leg, stopping him from locking on the Frostbite. Then after about 30 seconds or so of back and forth between them, Bruce manages to stand up with Johnson still holding on to the Figure Four arm lock. Bruce breathes in deeply and then hoists Johnson up in the air as his legs and whole body is wrapped around Bruce’s left arm. Bruce staggers, then falls forward from the pain of the Figure Four arm lock, dropping J.J. face first onto a mannequin in a football outfit by the sports section. *CRASH!* J.J. lands shoulder first onto the football helmet and takes the full impact without being able to break the fall. Bruce is on his knees, heaving for air, supporting himself on his right arm, his left still clutched tightly to his body. Then he crawls towards Johnson and lays a hand on him for a very lose cover hoping for the best. ONE!! TWO!! THR-NO!! Johnson brushes Bruce’s hand off his chest to break the pinfall attempt but doesn’t do much else other than clutch his shoulder in pain. Bruce has had a chance to catch is breath and gets to his feet, then he picks up the football helmet that was on the mannequin, puts it on and straps it under his chin. Bruce picks up Johnson by the hair and then quickly lands a headbutt with the helmet to Johnson’s hurt shoulder *THUNK!!* J.J. writhes in pain as Bruce just grins from behind the facemask, spitting out blood as he lines Johnson up for another helmet enhanced headbutt to the shoulder. *CONK!* Bruce grabs Johnson by the throat and forces him back against a shelf full of football jersey. Then he torques his whole body and aims the facemask straight at Johnson’s blood covered face *TWANG!!* Johnson moves out of the way in the last split second and Bruce’s head comes down right between a Bills and a Raven’s jersey splattering them both with blood. The helmet took most of the impact so Bruce is quickly on the attack again going for a spear. *CONK!!* Bruce misses Johnson and instead slams his head into the concrete wall, chipping it from the impact. Johnson eyes an opening and quickly locks on a front headlock and pulls backwards letting his momentum and Bruce’s position carry them into a DDT on the concrete floor. *CRACK!!* Johnson rolls over onto his back and then sits up while trying to wipe blood from his eyes. Behind him Bruce just pops back up, the helmet took the blow of the DDT and he’s totally fine. Bruce looms like a Panther, waiting for his prey. As soon as Johnson gets to his feet Bruce gets a head of steam while running towards him. Bruce ducks down and then drives his right shoulder into the midsection of J.J. Johnson while tugging his helmet clad head under Johnson’s left arm driving him into the exit door with a stiff as hell spear. *BOOOM!!* The door flies open, cracked where Bruce hit it with his helmet and the two combatants fall to the ground. Bruce gets to his knees, then just looks straight at Johnson while slapping his helmet to mock his opponent. When Bruce sees referee Izzy Slappowitch finally catch up with them he lays down and covers Johnson with a hook of the leg. ONE!! TWO!! THR-NOSHOULDERUP!! Johnson manages to get his shoulder up at the last moment, Bruce isn’t sure how Johnson keeps kicking out and he’s starting to get a look of desperation in his eyes. Bruce is not sure what he has to do to keep Johnson down. Bruce is quickly back on his feet yelling at Izzy Slappowitch to vent some of his frustrations and anger. “What kind of count was that you old coot? It’s supposed to be 1-2-3!! Damn it” he yells at the referee while counting along very quickly to indicate the speed. As he argues Johnson rises to his feet again, holding on to the handrail from the stairs that lead downwards. Bruce sees this out of the corners of his eyes, turns around and then takes another running start at the very dazed Johnson. Bruce is going for a second spear, one that’d be sure to knock both of them down the stairs actually. At the last moment J.J. collapses on the floor, he doesn’t duck, he doesn’t fall, he just collapses from the beating he’s received so far. Bruce doesn’t realize this until it’s too late and the big man goes over the edge and falls down the stairs!! “OOOOOOOOOOH SH!T!!” *BONK!* “OH MY GOD!” *CRACK!* “ARH MY ARM!!” *WHACK!* “OH NO!! *BOOM!* Johnson lays on the floor, gasping for his breath as he hears Bruce fall down the stairs, yelling in pain every time he hits something on the way down. *KERASH!* “OH MY SHOE!” Then the security cameras on the 3rd floor catch a shot of Bruce coming down the stairs… WALKING?? He slams the football helmet against the side of the wall or the stairs every two or three steps and yells like he was falling ass over elbow, making sure to wipe some of the blood from his hands on the wall to make it look really gory. *CRACK!!* “OW SWEET JESUS” Bruce yells up the stairwell, suppressing a laugh. Bruce keeps this sham up for two fights of stairs, banging on the walls and shouting in pain to make Johnson think he’s actually tumbling down the stairs. Then he sees a soda machine on the landing to the 2nd floor. “OH NO! NOT THE SOD…” *CRASH!!* Bruce quickly kicks the front of the soda machine, shattering the cover and making it sound like he rammed it full force. Then he grabs a couple of cans from the broken machine. He leaves the stairwell before he pops the top of all the cans. He drinks a soda in one gulp and uses the other to wash the blood off his face, or at least try since he’s still gushing from where the Lego brick has been lodged in his head. On the 4th floor Johnson is getting to his feet, leaving red handprints on the wall as he uses it for support while he gets up. He looks down the stairwell to see if he can spot Bruce but can’t see anything. Then Johnson holds on to the handrail as he begins to go down the stairs looking for Bruce, looking at the marks from the helmet and the blood from Bruce’s fingers. Johnson smiles and as he walks along he gets more and more confident that he’s got the match won. That Bruce is beaten and laying at the bottom of the steps out cold or embedded in a soda machine. With a final rush of adrenaline he runs down the last 10 steps and finds… Nothing? But his surprise is soon replaced with pain as Bruce throws the football helmet right at JJ, catching him in the abdomen with it. “HUUUUUUUUUURRRH!!” The impact knocks Johnson to his knees, holding his stomach while gasping for air. Bruce quickly approaches his opponent, pointing to the side of his head in a manner not unlike Marcus Ward while smiling through the blood that’s dripping from his face. “Becha didn’t see that one coming” Bruce drags Johnson back to his feet, then he places the cruiserweight champ’s head between his legs before flipping him up in a power bomb position. Because Johnson only weighs about 220 Bruce is easily able to get up some speed as he runs across the tile floor of the plush toy department looking to splatter Johnson all over the pretty white tile with his Sweet Home Alabama power bomb. But Johnson has other ideas, mid run he manages to wiggle out of Bruce’s grip, flip over Bruce’s back and then kick backwards hard with all his might sending Bruce flying face first towards the escalators. “OH SWEET JEBUS!!” But Jebus isn’t helping Bruce tonight as the momentum of the near 300 pound monster carries him right over the edge of the escalators and sends him crashing down it as it slowly moves downwards. *CRASH!* Bruce bounces off the handrail after slamming into it with his arm hand jammed between him and the metal. “Oh my god” *POW!* Bruce’s boots slip on the metal sending him down on his ass hard. On the 2nd floor Johnson is looking down the escalator to make sure that this isn’t another one of Bruce’s tricks. “Help me” Bruce flips forward over on one of the steps and then smacks down face and chest first against the metal stairs. *SPLAT!!* And then he just lies there as the escalator’s downward motion carries Bruce to the ground floor of FAO Schwarz and deposits him on the floor not far from the huge clock tower. Johnson looks at the clock tower, then he looks at Bruce. Johnson slowly begins to walk towards the clock tower as a roar is heard from outside the store. YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!! Johnson is surprised to see a horde of fans outside FAO Schwarz, pressing their faces against the glass to get a front row view of the Hardcore battle playing out inside. After shaking off the surprise he climbs over the banister and onto the 2nd level of the 3 story tall clock tower. He looks at Bruce who’s on his knees slowly getting up. He waits a moment to make sure Bruce is in the ring position. Then he takes a running start and leaps off the 2nd story about 20 feet up in the air YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!! The crowd goes nuts as J.J. Johnson flies through the air straight for the still dazed and blood soaked Bruce Lining up perfectly for a cross body block. *SPLAT!!* Bruce manages to grab J.J. Johnson as he comes off the clock tower. Then he uses the momentum from the jump to land a huge power bomb right into the water fountain in the lobby. *SPLASH!!!* YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!! Bruce quickly covers Johnson who’s totally under water, which means that the referee has to jump into the fountain to count the pin. *SPLASH!* ONE!! Outside the building the fans are cheering and slamming on the windows in appreciation of an amazing match and counting along with the referee’s count. *SPLASH!* TWO!! The referee checks that Johnson still has his shoulders down under the water, that’s now murky from all the blood, before bringing his hand down again *SPLASH!* THREE!!! Bruce has done it, he’s retained the Hardcore title in a match that was more a war and less a wrestling match, but he’s managed to keep the Hardcore title. Bruce sits on the edge of the fountain for a moment or two, trying to catch is breath and to wash the blood out from his eyes, but every time he washes it out the cuts on his forehead cover him in blood again. BRUCE!! BRUCE!! JOHN-SON!! JOHN-SON!! The fans outside show their appreciating for the hell both combatants went through. Bruce finally gets up, takes the Hardcore title from the referee and then begins to walk off, but after about 5 steps he stops. Bruce closes his eyes, sighs deeply in resignation, then he turns around, returns to the fountain where J.J. Johnson is still under water. Bruce reaches into the water and drags J.J. Johnson out, then draping him over the edge to prevent him from drowning. Bruce staggers towards the exit, the Hardcore title dangling from his right hand, blood dropping from the fingers on his left hand onto the floor as he walks, his feet dragging from exhaustion. He’d give it all, he’d taken it all and he was only barely able to stand right now. BRUCE!! BRUCE!! JOHN-SON!! JOHN-SON!! Cutting back to Pete and King at ringside we see both of them just sitting there, mouths open at the brutal carnage they just witnessed. Then King notices they’re back on. “Man I’m glad I don’t have to clean up THAT mess! They bled on everything except the 3rd floor bathrooms” King says impressed by the carnage. “My god, I’m… oh man I’m gonna be sick” Pete says as he looks quite pale, “I’m not sure I’ll ever look at a kid’s toy the same after this” he adds before he starts to fan himself with a Genesis VI program. “Bruce escaped by the skin of his teeth tonight! I’m thinking that Johnson earned some respect after that BRUTAL match” King says, rounding off the segment – hoping that they’ll quickly move on so that both of them can get the bloody pictures out of their minds.

TALE OF THE TAPE JJ Johnson Age: 21 Height: 6'1" Weight: 219 pounds Bench: Move List: 9 practiced moves, 9 variables Finisher(s): Frostbite, Air Canada Accomplishments: Former SWF Hardcore Gamer's Champion, current SWF Cruiserweight Champion Last Five: 3-2 Bruce Blank Age: 32 Height: 6'7" Weight: 295lbs Bench: 550 lbs Move List: 16 practiced moves, 6 variables. Finisher(s): Blank Bomb, Sweet Home Alabama, Iron Claw. Accomplishments: SWF Hardcore Gamer’s Champion (Current) Last Five: 4 - 0 POWER ADVANTAGE: Bruce Blank LEVERAGE ADVANTAGE: Bruce Blank SPEED ADVANTAGE: JJ Johnson EXPERIENCE ADVANTAGE: JJ Johnson TECHNICAL ADVANTAGE: JJ Johnson HOT/COLD: Bruce Blank (Hot) OVERALL ADVANTAGE: Push

Bruce Blank is backstage as Ben Hardy approaches him trying to get a few pre-match comments from the big guy before he’s taken to FAO Schwarz for the Hardcore title match. Not that Ben wanted to but he likes to get paid and all. Ben: Bruce! Bruce can I have a few words? Bruce looks at Ben as the interviewer comes down the hallway towards him, then he turns his attention back to the rubber bouncy ball in his hand. He looks at it for a second, then he throws it against the floor *Bla-dow!* It bounces off the wall *Dow!* And then Bruce catches it again in his big paw of a hand. *Thud* Bruce: --- Ben: You’re about to fight the SWF Cruiserweight champion J.J. Johnson, one of the guys that’s really taken offence to your comments about small guys and is out to prove you wrong tonight. What is your plan for him?? Bruce doesn’t say anything at all, he just throws the ball again *Bla-dow!*Dow*thud* Catching it on the rebound seemingly not interested in what Hardy is asking him. Ben: You’ve yet to really face anyone that wrestles this style in SWF until now. How do you think you’ll handle it?? The only answer he gets is: *Bla-dow!*Dow*thud* *Bla-dow!*Dow*thud* Ben: A-hem Bruce? The big man seems to ignore Ben completely and just throws the ball, bouncing it off the floor, the walls, sending it flying all over the place always ending up back in his hand *Bla-dow! *Dow *Dow *thud* Ben: This is your first title defence and it promises to be a brutal match – Johnson is a former Hardcore champion. Does that scare you? Bruce just looks at him with a sneer, as if that question insulted the big man. Then he casually turns his attention back to the bouncy ball *Bla-dow!*Dow*thud* Ben: How have you prepared for this match with an opponent that can run circles around you?? *Bla-dow!*Dow*thud* Ben: If you lose tonight will you admit that guys under 250 have a place in the ring? Bruce looks like he’s getting really annoyed by now. He throws the ball down against the ground really hard, sending it bouncing off the ceiling and the walls before finally catching it on the rebound. *Bla-dow!*Dow*Dow*Dow*Dow*Dow*thud* Bruce takes the rubber ball, gives it to Ben Hardy, then he stares at the camera with eyes that reveal an intensity his previous actions did not give away. Bruce: --- Then he just walks away heading for the cab to take him out of the arena. Leaving Ben Hardy with the ball in his hand. Hardy looks at it, then holds it up to the camera so that everyone can see what’s written on the red and white rubber ball ”J.J. Johnson”

Walking down the halls of the Garden with a confident swagger, Wes Davenport scans the numerous doors that pass as Barry Jacobs struggles to keep up with his client, taking a hit from his inhaler. “Ghost Machine… The Crimson Skull… Zyon!? Who’s next, G-I Joe and his mobile command unit?” Barry feigns a laugh, putting his hand on Wes’ shoulder. “It might be best if you kept your voice down, you’ll have to work with these people on a daily basis, and it’s best to get off on the right foot, ok? We don’t want anything to ruin this now, do we?” “Of course, you’re right,” replies Wes, not missing a stride. “But you see what I mean, right? Nothing but trailer park entertainment, I tell you, I’m glad I got out while I did.” Barry’s motions to his client to keep his voice down, but luckily, Wes has found what he’s been looking for, other than a decent script. Wes looks up at the name on the door… *Thomas Flesher* “Finally,” Wes mutters, “you’d think they’d have someone direct us, I mean I am a celebrity for crying out loud. I’m doing these people a favor by giving them some real media attention and appealing to a whole new demographic.” “And which demographic would that be…” Barry asks with a slight groan, setting up his client for the punchline. “…The demographic with teeth!” says Wes, howling with laughter as he barges through the SWF commissioner’s door, while Jacobs shakes his head in defeat. “You’re a wittier man than I, Wes.” The sudden intrusion doesn’t seem to faze Tom Flesher, who continues his pre-match warm-up, unaware of the presence of Wes Davenport. Wes waits a few seconds, before clearing his throat to get the commissioner’s attention. Flesher stretches his arm over his head tilting it slightly in Davenport’s direction as he learns to the side, wholly unimpressed with what he sees. “Can I do anything for you? I can’t tell you how much I enjoy uninvited visits from people I’ve never seen before.” The actor grunts out a short laugh, nudging his manager in the arm. “Yes, you can do something for me. I’m Wes Davenport.” Flesher looks up at the TV in the corner, watching a video package of the events of the past few weeks, something he helped put together to assure that Spike Jenkins’ face time was no less than half a second. Tom turns to the pair finally and nods, waiting for Wes to finish whatever he was going to say. Davenport shifts uneasily as silence fills in the room. Barry quickly jumps in after careful prodding from his client. “Um, hello, Mr. Flesher. Allow me to introduce Wes Davenport; I contacted you a week ago, regarding his research roll in the SWF…?” “Oh, right, right, right,” Tom replies, at least pretending to care as he sits down and shuffles some papers around on his desk. “Here we are. No problem, of course it would be fine, just try not to get in the way etcetera, etcetera. Have a nice night, and enjoy the pay per view, bye now.” Tom gets to his feet in a clear indication for the pair to hightail it. Jacobs prepares to leave, but Davenport just stands there, mouth agape. “You DO know who I am, right?” Flesher looks back at Wes, tilting his head slightly, trying to put a face to a name, and a name to anything worthwhile, but comes up blank. “I’m afraid I don’t, now if you’ll excuse me.” “I’m Wes Davenport. Davenport. I’ve been on stage and screen; I’ve acted with some of the best people in the industry!” Tom’s simply raises an eyebrow and looks back with a skeptical look as he continues his warm-up, feigning interest, “I’ve acted with… people! I’ve been nominated for awards; I’ve dated the most beautiful women in the world!” Tom sighs as he peers at the T.V from the corner of his eye, not missing a beat in the federation. Wes can see he’s not getting through, and tries a more direct and somewhat hazardous approach with the SWF commissioner... “… And to tell you the god’s honest truth, but I can’t wait to be out of this cesspool of so-called “entertainment” and “competition”!” Now this, this got Flesher’s attention. “I mean, I got out of this pathetic excuse for a soap opera with jacked up morons a long time ago, what’s your excuse!? I could see this “sport” would go nowhere, and it looks like I wasn’t wrong!” “Wes…” Barry tries to leash his client, but Davenport has lunged head first into a tirade, stamping around the room. “All these wrestlers are just poor excuses for actors who couldn’t cut it! But guess what? I did! I made before I languished in the Indy circuit, but don’t get me wrong, I could still smoke anyone in the ring! I don’t have to though; I’m a bigger star than ANYONE here! So you better treat me with the respect I deserve, and do ANYTHING that I ask, just for having the privilege of having me here!” As Wes huffs and puffs, finishing his, what he would think, is an Emmy award winning performance, Flesher crosses his arms and asks, “Are you done?” “…Yes, yes I think I am.” “Good, now sign here, and you’ll be ours for the next two months. I’m sure the SWF name will be lifted from the gutter, with such people as you in our organization, Mr. Davenport. Good day.” The commissioner’s reaction leaves Davenport confused as he signs the contract and slowly backs away, Flesher giving him a long, cold stare. Wes quickly shuffles out the door in a hurry, but feeling vindicated and empowered. Flesher, on the other hand, just continues stretching, with a smile on his face. “I’m sure he’ll fit right in.” “Ladies and gentlemen, what a night we’ve seen so far,” Longdogger Pete shills, “and we’ve only just started! We have already determined the new Number One Contender to the SWF World Title, and you’ve got to believe that either Danny Williams or El Luchador Magnifico are going to have a tough test ahead of them on the 28th September edition of Lockdown!” “Oh please,” Suicide King snorts, “there’s no way Williams is walking out of here tonight as champion. Lord knows Magnifico can be an annoying little ex-Carnie at times but he seems to have got his head back on track now he’s realised he’s not in this to please the humanoids, and he’ll take the roidmonkey to school in the main event.” “We shall see,” Pete says non-committally, “but for right now we have a singles match with a little bit of history behind it, as ‘The Mastermind’ Marcus Ward takes on TORU Takahara of TKO!” The camera cuts to the ring where Funyon stands, resplendent in his tux and bowtie. The veteran ring announcer takes the index card from his pocket, clears his throat and raises the microphone… “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall,” he begins. “Introducing first…” The sombre, foreboding beats of ‘Between the Wheels’ by Rush start up, leading to an instant chorus of boos from the New York crowd. Moments later the stocky shape of Marcus Ward appears at the top of the entrance ramp and begins to make his leisurely way down it, making sure to sneer at as many members of the crowd as possible as he does so. “…from Bavaria,” Funyon continues, “weighing in tonight at 249lbs, he is MARCUS… ‘THE MASTERMIND’… WAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRD!!” Marcus Ward has his own message for the fans, and although he doesn’t have the benefit of a microphone he does have a powerful pair of lungs. The self-proclaimed Mastermind places his hands of his hips as he stops in the centre of the entrance ramp and bellows at the top of his voice: “I’M IN TOTAL CONTROL!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “The fans here in New York don’t like that claim from Marcus Ward, but when it comes to TKO he might have a point,” Pete admits. “He tagged with JJ Johnson against TORU Takahara and KOJI Kitano in their second SWF match and lost, but only the other week he got himself a new partner in the shape of Bruce Blank, the man he recently lost the Hardcore Gamer’s Title too, and with him broke TKO’s undefeated streak after Ward hit the Conspiracy Crash on KOJI!” “Marcus Ward and Bruce Blank certainly have a bright future ahead of them in this company,” Suicide King admits, “but when it comes to tag team wrestling TKO are the team. That was just a minor aberration.” Marcus Ward has reached the ring now and he climbs in slowly between the top two ropes, then approaches the first turnbuckle and climbs to the second rope before raising his arms, glaring out at the crowd as he does so. “YOU SUCK!” “YOU SUCK!” The New York crowd aren’t very responsive to this action, but the hostile reception doesn’t seem to dissuade Ward from crossing the ring to the other corner and doing it again… but before he can start to mount the turnbuckle, Rush cuts out and a familiar pulsing electronic beat starts up. Moments later as strobes start to light up the arena three big letters appear in sequence on the Smarktron: T K O “And his opponent,” Funyon declares as ‘Tribe’ by Mad Capsule Markets causes the crowd to somewhat come alive, “accompanied to the ring by Chris Card Enterprises; from Saitama Prefecture, Japan, he weighs in tonight at 264lbs; this is TO-RRRRRUUUUUUU… TAKA-HAAAAARRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAA!!” “YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” The long-haired figures of Chris Card and Natasha appear at the top of the entrance ramp as the first guitar riff hits, followed moments later by the trenchcoat-wearing form of the man himself. The trio halt for a moment, then start to make their way down the ramp as the chorus kicks in. ‘TRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIBE! Why don’t you strike, justify your mind!’ “T!K!O!” “T!K!O!” The New York fans are considerably more pleased to see TORU than they were Marcus Ward, and make no secret of the fact. For his part, the big man makes sure to flip the bird at as many members of the crowd as possible. “Marcus Ward may have broken TKO’s winning streak,” Longdogger Pete points out, “but don’t forget that it was KOJI, not TORU, who suffered that pinfall - TORU has still to take a pinfall or tap out in the SWF, and I think he’s going to be looking for some revenge on Marcus Ward tonight! However,” the Miami Menace adds, “it’s worth bearing in mind that according to the figures I have, it has been nearly two years since TORU has been in a singles match! TKO formed in the middle of 2002 and TORU has only had about half-a-dozen singles matches since then; in fact, it was December 2003 that TORU last wrestled without KOJI in his corner!” This lack of recent experience doesn’t seem to be bothering TORU at the moment however, as the big man hands over his mirrored shades to Chris Card before allowing Natasha to take his black vinyl trenchcoat. TORU then hops up to the apron before taking hold of the top rope and vaulting into the ring, showing considerably more athleticism than his lighter opponent. “Now, you might think that would leave TORU at a disadvantage,” Suicide King says, “but don’t forget that tonight he has Chris Card and Natasha on the floor, and they can be just as much use as a tag team partner!” “You know, much as I dislike Marcus Ward’s arrogant posturing,” Pete replies, “I can’t help but wish that TORU could take him on without resorting to rulebreaking.” “Bah,” King snorts, “TKO have got cheating down to an art form. They don’t have to cheat like some talentless hack; for example, Landon Maddix. TKO cheat because they want to.” Referee Brian Warner calls the two men together and begins to go over the rules of the match with them. However, Marcus Ward seems think that listening to referees is below him and TORU just looks blank at Warner’s English. The official gives it up as a bad job and turns to tell the timekeeper to ring the bell… *PFFFFTTTTTT!* *DING-DING-DING!* …and in the split-second his back is turned, TORU spits a spray of liquid into Marcus Ward’s face! “YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “Sake mist!” King calls with a touch of professional appreciation as the potent Japanese alcohol burns into Ward’s eyes and causes the Mastermind to stagger backwards. Warner knows that he’s missed something but he can’t call what he didn’t see, and besides, TORU isn’t making any move to follow up. Instead the big man is just pointing and laughing at the cursing Ward, who is clawing at his face in an attempt to clear his vision. After a few frenzied seconds Marcus looks up through streaming eyes at TORU, who makes sure that his opponent can actually see before extending both hands… …and giving him two middle fingers. “T!K!O!” “T!K!O!” Naturally, Marcus Ward doesn’t take too kindly to that. The Mastermind charges forwards, perhaps seeking to knock TORU over with his bodyweight, but although Takahara takes a step back from the bodycheck he makes no other movement. Ward looks nonplussed for a moment, then turns and darts for another rope. TORU knows a challenge when he sees one and remains rooted in place, ready for Ward to rebound and hit another shoulderblock… with exactly the same effect as the last one. Very little. “It’s going to take more than that to knock either one of these men over,” LDP states, “TORU is slightly heavier but Marcus Ward has a low centre of gravity and is therefore very stable on his feet.” TORU still seems rather amused at his opponent’s efforts, and indicates the ropes to his right, suggesting that Ward might have more luck with them. The Mastermind has started so he’ll finish; Ward isn’t going to give up now until he succeeds, and he obligingly heads for the ropes and rebounds at even greater speed… …to no real effect. Both men rock slightly off the impact, but remain standing. “T!K!O!” “T!K!O!” Heaving a theatrical sigh, TORU jerk a thumb over his shoulder to suggest the ropes directly behind him. Ward simply glares daggers at him for a moment, then runs past him- *BANG!* -but TORU sticks out a foot and trips him on the way past! “YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” TORU isn’t done there though, as the bigger half of TKO turns around to place one foot squarely on the BUTT of his momentarily-prone opponent, and as Ward twists around to see what’s going on Takahara gives him another double middle finger salute! “Come on Dogger, admit it,” King chuckles, “that’s funny.” Marcus Ward doesn’t agree. The frustrated and embarrassed Mastermind rolls away from his opponent’s boot until he has passed under the bottom rope. Brian Warner leans over the top and demands that he get back into the ring, but Ward doesn’t seem inclined to listen and begins to actually walk away. “Marcus Ward isn’t called ‘The Mastermind’ for nothing,” Pete says, “and this could be a ploy to lure TORU out to the floor; however, I’d question the wisdom of that, as in a straight-up brawl I’d have to give the edge to Takahara.” Regardless of whether or not that is Ward’s plan, TORU isn’t biting. As Marcus Ward starts to head for the entrance ramp the big man from Saitama Prefecture climbs to the second rope and raises his fists in a passable imitation of the Mastermind’s entrance routine, then bellows in heavily-accented but just about understandable English… “I’M A TOTAL CUNT!” “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “Is he allowed to say that?” Suicide King asks in shock as Madison Square Garden explodes at TORU’s coarse mocking of his opponent. “Umm… I expect we’ll find out tomorrow morning,” LDP says in a slightly worried tone of voice. “However, it looks like Marcus Ward has changed his plans, and bid’ness is about to pick up!” Sure enough, Marcus Ward isn’t going to take that sort of ridicule lying down (well, out on the arena floor) and has abandoned his abandonment of the wrestling area by charging back towards the ring with a face like thunder. The Mastermind slides under the ropes, but the flaw in his plan is quickly revealed as TORU doesn’t give his opponent a chance to set himself and fires away immediately with knee strikes as Ward tries to rise. The man from Japan grabs Ward’s wrist and Irish whips him towards the far ropes but Marcus reverses the momentum and sends Takahara in instead, then as TORU rebounds the Mastermind manages to grab his larger opponent and twirl his bullk through the air into a tilt-a-whirl spinebuster! *BANG!* Ward isn’t going to wait around now he has the chance to get some payback for TORU’s action, and he instantly drags TORU back up again before scooping Takahara off his feet and then dumping him down over one knee with a pendulum backbreaker. TORU grabs his back in pain, but Ward doesn’t intend to give his opponent any time to recover and hoists the big man from Japan to his feet once more, then Irish whips him hard into the turnbuckles. *WHAM!* The breath is blasted from TORU’s lungs, but Marcus Ward grabs his opponent’s arm again and hauls on it once more to send Takahara clean across the ring and into the other turnbuckles! *WHAM!* “Some high-impact offence here from Marcus Ward,” LDP exclaims, “and he seems to be working over TORU’s back and ribs in preparation for the Total Control.” TORU staggers out of the corner that he just arrived in, but only into the waiting arms of Marcus Ward. The alleged Bavarian wraps his powerful limbs around his opponent’s ribcage… and squeezes. “BOOOOOR-ING!” “BOOOOOR-ING!” “Did Scott Pretzler just turn up?” King says, hopefully looking around for the Master of the Resthold, but the Canadian is nowhere to be seen. However, Marcus Ward has done a good job of slowing the pace of the match down now he has established his advantage, being well aware of TORU’s surprising quickness and not wanting his opponent to get a chance to fight back. The pressure on TORU’s ribs and back is clearly causing the big man some pain and denying him breath, but even so after about ten seconds Takahara is able to smash a right hand into the side of Ward’s head. Ward winces in pain but responds by tightening his grip; TORU reaches up with both hands this time and goes for the eyes… and Ward simply bridges backwards with a belly-to-belly suplex! *BANG!* Ward’s eyes are watering slightly again, but TORU landed hard on his back and is non-moving for the moment. Ward smirks evilly as he gets back to his feet, then raises his arms and bellows his warcry at the crowd. “I’M IN TOTAL CONTROL!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “YOU SUCK!” “YOU SUCK!” The fans are still inclined to argue with Marcus Ward, but the evidence so far would suggest that the self-proclaimed Mastermind has some justification for his claims, at least as far as this match is concerned. This appears to be backed up as Ward pulls TORU up to his feet again, then slips his head under TORU’s left arm and bends his knees before hoisting Takahara up into the air… “Total Control!” Pete shouts, “Marcus Ward could end the match right here!” However, the Mastermind has failed to consider one thing. In bringing TORU up onto his shoulders in a Torture Rack position he is cruelly attacking the ribs and spine of his opponent… but he has also brought his head into close proximity with the knees of the SWF’s most successful proponent of Knee-Fu, and only one leg is currently under his control. *WHAM!* The shot from TORU’s right knee comes out of nowhere as far as Marcus Ward is concerned and the Mastermind staggers sideways. He gamely keeps TORU elevated, but- *WHAM!* -another shot quickly finishes that. Ward loses his balance and drops to one knee, releasing his grip as he does so and allowing TORU to escape the feared submission move. Ward quickly turns to try and regain the advantage but Takahara is ready for him and nails him with a firm open-handed slap to the jaw! *SMACK!* Ward staggers back with his ears ringing, but TORU isn’t done and the man from Japan piles forward with a series of stinging, insulting slaps to the Mastermind as the crowd chant along! *SMACK!* “T!” *SMACK!* “K!” *SMACK!* “O!” *SMACK!* “T!” *SMACK!* “K!” *SMACK!* “O!” With Ward in retreat under the onslaught TORU changes tactics somewhat and drives two quick kicks into Marcus Ward’s left knee to target the Mastermind’s known weakness, then as Ward staggers and reels TORU turns and darts for the ropes, rebounding off them at high speed to vault off Ward’s left knee and swing his boot towards the back of his opponent’s head with a Shining Enzuigiri! *CRACK!* “YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Marcus Ward pitches forward onto his face and TORU pushes himself back up to his feet, then takes the time to brandish both middle fingers at the crowd (several of whom respond in kind). However, Marcus Ward is one tough cookie and he is quicker to rise than many expect. “Will you look at that?” Longdogger Pete exclaims as the Mastermind rolls into a sitting position, then turns over again and gets to one knee, “Marcus Ward isn’t staying down here!” “You’re not dealing with some wimpy, play-to-the-fans-for-sympathy loser like Zyon here, Dogger!” King snaps. “Marcus Ward is a tough, determined competitor. I just wish he’d cheat more.” Ward has made it back to his feet now, but TORU seems intent on changing that. The big man steps in and swings his right foot again, driving it into the left knee of Ward again. *CRACK!* Then again. *CRACK!* And a few more times, for luck. *CRACK!* *CRACK!* *CRACK!* One the last one Marcus Ward’s knee gives out and the Bavarian collapses to the mat. Marcus isn’t eager to give TORU an opening and he scrambles back to his feet as quickly as possible, but- *CRACK!* -TORU just chops him straight back down! Once more Marcus Ward pushes himself to his feet, and this time Takahara fires a knee into the Mastermind’s gut before double-underhooking Ward’s arms. TORU takes a moment to set himself, then wrenches Ward up before twisting his opponent in midair and driving him down over one knee! “What a backbreaker!” LDP shouts as the Tigerbreaker causes Ward to spasm in pain, “but TORU isn’t done yet!” Indeed he isn’t, as the man from Saitama Prefecture has climbed out to the apron and then to the top rope. He waits there for a second to judge the distance before leaping off to an amazing height… …pumping his arms and legs as he goes… …and landing square on Marcus Ward’s chest with a Frog Splash! “Air TORU!” Suicide King exclaims with pleasure as 260lbs of Japanese man drive Ward into the canvas and Brian Warner drops to make the count, “say goodbye to your ribs, Marcus!” ONE! TWO!! …but Marcus Ward kicks out moments after Warner’s hand hits the mat for the second time, much to the disappointment of the New York fans. TORU takes a second to look questioningly at the referee, implying that surely there was more to it than that, but when Warner stubbornly shakes his head Takahara simply grins and gives him the middle finger before getting off his opponent and turning around to tag KOJI in. “…?” But of course, for the first time in nearly two years, KOJI isn’t there. TORU stands shocked for a moment, clearly at a loss, then as Card shouts at him from the floor the light dawns on the tag team specialist; he’s in a singles match. Shrugging, TORU turns back around to Marcus Ward… …who has forced himself back to his feet, and take this opportunity to pick TORU bodily up before driving him back down with a vicious spinebuster! *WHAM!* Ward quickly rolls into a cover… ONE! TWO!! …but now it’s TORU’s turn to kick out. Chris Card is screaming at his client from the floor, but Ward’s high-impact move has turned the tide of the match, at least briefly. As Card and Natasha look on powerlessly, Marcus Ward grabs the wheezing TORU by the head and starts to drag him back to a vertical base. “Well fans, that’s where we see the contrasting experience of these two men,” Longdogger Pete explains. “TORU Takahara is a tag veteran, but got caught there looking for a tag that wasn’t on offer - he wasn’t even in trouble, he was just following instincts to keep himself fresh that, in a tag match, is one of the reasons why TKO have been so successful. On the other hand Marcus Ward has made a name for himself as a singles wrestler in the US indies, and he is used to only having himself to rely on!” “And that lack of tag experience is what makes it even more impressive that Ward and Blank beat TKO,” King points out. “I wouldn’t count on it happening again, though.” Marcus Ward has now got TORU up and he grabs the winded Jap’s leg before using his impressive strength to hoist TORU into the air, then drop his opponent leg-first onto his own right knee with a shinbreaker! Ward winces as his left knee takes the brunt of landing on the mat, but he perseveres and executes the move again; this time however the impact of his left knee into the canvas as he drops causes Ward to echo TORU’s yell of pain, and he gives it up as a bad job. With TORU currently unable to mount any offence and holding his left leg in considerable pain Ward takes the opportunity to head for the ropes behind them, then rebounds off and lunges shoulder-first at Takahara’s left knee to take him out with a chop block! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” With TORU grounded Ward grabs the injured left leg and rises back to a vertical base, then drops an elbow into the knee. Takahara is clearly unimpressed with that plan but Ward seems to like the idea and he gets back to his feet before doing it again, then grinds his elbow into the joint for good measure! Brian Warner checks on TORU to see if the big man wants to give it up, but although TORU is shaking his head Chris Card still clambers halfway into the ring to protest. Warner looks around, distracted by Technical Perfection… and TORU reaches up to rake Ward’s eyes, causing the Mastermind to release the hold and grab his face protectively. “Even without a tag partner, TORU can still cheat,” King says appreciatively. Pete just shakes his head sadly. Unfortunately for TORU, he can’t catch a break; Marcus Ward fires off a headbutt that cuts off any thought of a comeback that the big man might have been entertaining, then brings TORU up to his feet and scoots around behind him. For a moment as Ward lifts it looks like he’s going for a back suplex, but then the Mastermind staggers forward a little unsteadily as he left knee protests, but succeeds in placing TORU on the top buckle, facing outwards. Ward then grabs TORU’s head and pulls him down violently into a Tree of Woe position, then starts firing elbows into the exposed -and trapped- knee of Takahara. Referee Brian Warner starts counting… ‘ONE!’ ‘TWO!’ ‘THREE!’ ‘FOUR!’ ‘FI-’ …but Marcus Ward steps away at the last moment before the disqualification. Brian Warner grabs TORU’s foot and tries to free the inverted man from Japan, but Marcus Ward shoves him aside and starts laying in with more elbows to the left knee! ‘ONE!’ ‘TWO!’ ‘THREE!’ ‘FOUR!’ ‘FI-’ Once more Ward breaks just before the DQ point. Brian Warner steps in slightly more forcefully this time and tries to free TORU again, but as he does so Ward climbs up to the second rope a foot or so away from the buckle, then comes off with a double axe-handle the trapped limb just before Warner finally succeeds in his quest. TORU is rolling on the mat and clutching his left leg… and Marcus Ward grabs the injured limb himself, then applies the Crucifix Kneebar known as the Bavarian Bonebreaker! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “PLEASE DON’T TAP!” “PLEASE DON’T TAP!” TORU is clearly in agony, but the big man is close enough to the ropes to haul his way towards them with his considerable upper body strength, then latch onto the bottom cable for all he’s worth to force the break! ‘ONE!’ ‘TWO!’ ‘THREE!’ ‘FOUR!’ ‘FI-’ Once more, Marcus Ward tests the count to the limit before releasing the Bavarian Bonebreaker and rolling to his feet as TORU is left on the mat. The smug Mastermind lifts his arms again, looking square at Chris Card as he does so… “I’M IN TOTAL CONTROL!” “Unfortunately, I’m having trouble arguing with him,” LDP mutters. “If Marcus Ward can keep working on TORU’s legs then he’s going to take a large part of his opponent’s offence away.” Marcus Ward grabs hold of TORU’s left leg and hauls on it, pulling the bigger man into the middle of the ring. Perhaps with the idea that TORU will be expecting the Bavarian Bonebreaker again he instead grabs the right leg and start to twirl, seemingly setting up a Figure-Four Leglock… but TORU reaches up and grabs the Mastermind’s head, then rolls back into a small package! ONE! TWO!! TH- -but Ward overcomes his surprise and kicks out before Warner can find the third count. TORU forces himself to his feet as quickly as he can with one bad leg, but Ward is up just as quickly and lashes out with a disrespectful bitchslap! *SMACK!* The blow snaps TORU’s head to one side, but the big man from Japan doesn’t take a backstep and responds in kind! *SMACK!* Ward’s eyes narrow and he fires back… *SMACK!* …but TORU isn’t going to be beaten! *SMACK!* “Seriously Marcus, don’t get into a slapping contest with a Japanese wrestler,” King sighs. *SMACK!* *SMACK!* Too late. *SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMACK!* With his jaw stinging and his ears ringing, Marcus Ward rears back and this time fires a forarm into TORU’s jaw- *CRACK!* -but although TORU staggers he doesn’t go down and the big man responds with two fingers to his opponent’s eyes! “YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” This time Marcus Ward does step back, crouching over instinctively as he swipes at his watering eyes. TORU takes his chance and heads for the ropes, limping badly on his left leg, then rebounds and drives his right knee into Ward’s temple! Marcus Ward collapses to the mat, but TORU staggers and barely keeps his feet. However, Takahara manages to grab the Mastermind and drags him up, then pumphandles his opponent’s far arm and hooks the near one into a half-nelson before hoisting Ward off the floor, turning him 90 degrees and dropping him on his head with the sitout TORU Driver! *BANG!* TORU doesn’t make the cover, but instead heads for the turnbuckles. By balancing on his left leg and using the right one to climb he manages to get to the top buckle in not too much more time than usual, then leaps off. It is probably only the relatively short distance between him and Ward than allows TORU to make it, but he succeeds in dropping a devastating right knee into Ward’s breastbone as the TORU Hammer strikes home! *WHAM!* Ward spasms on the mat with a complete lack of oxygen in his lungs, but TORU Takahara is more concerned for a couple of moments with his left leg that he landed on. It takes the man from Saitama Prefeture a few seconds to get with it enough to make a cover, which Brian Warner drops to count for… ONE! TWO!! TH- -but Marcus Ward kicks out! “T!K!O!” “T!K!O” The disappointment of not getting the pin seems to bring on the pain in TORU’s leg again, and the big man cradles it for a couple more seconds before staggering up to his feet and turning to lunge for his corner… but once more, he is shocked to find no KOJI waiting for the tag! Visibly cursing himself TORU gathers himself and turns back around, limping heavily, only for Marcus Ward to wrap both legs around Takahara’s left ankle and pull him down with a drop toehold! “Bavarian Bonebreaker!” Longdogger Pete shouts as the still-breathless Mastermind struggles through the blackspots in his vision to turn TORU over and apply his crucifix kneebar. TORU is fighting for all he’s worth, and Natasha leaps up onto the apron to attract Brian Warner’s attention. The referee is only duped into arguing with the Goth Bitch for a couple of seconds, but that’s long enough for Chris Card to slide a bag of what appears to be ice in to TORU, who picks it up and mashes Marcus Ward in the head with it! “YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Ward’s attempts to lock in his deadly hold suddenly cease, but as Brian Warner turns around all he finds is TORU Takahara applying the bag of ice to his left knee in an attempt to reduce the swelling! Warner smells foul play but can’t prove a damn thing; however, what he doesn’t need to prove is the fact that once TORU has struggled to his feet his goes over and very deliberately steps on Marcus Ward’s throat (using his right foot). ‘ONE!’ TORU looks quizzically at the referee. ‘TWO!’ The man from Japan is still blank. ‘THREE!’ Despite Warner’s threatening demeanour, TORU still doesn’t appear to know what’s going on. ‘FOUR!’ TORU shrugs, as if to say ‘I don’t understand what you’re saying’. ‘FI-’ TORU gets off Ward’s throat (purely coincidentally, you understand) and tries to explain to referee Warner that he doesn’t understand English. The conversation lasts a couple of fruitless seconds, before TORU steps backwards… onto Marcus Ward’s throat. ‘ONE!’ ‘TWO!’ ‘THREE!’ TORU isn’t moving, so Warner grabs his arm and tries to haul the big man off. ‘FOUR!’ ‘FI-’ “I’M JAPANESE, GODAMMIT!” TORU bellows in his heavily-accented English, pulling his arm free (but stepping off Ward’s throat at the same time). “This is ridiculous,” Pete claims, “Japanese wrestling uses counts in English! It’s ludicrous for TORU to claim that he doesn’t understand!” “Yeah. But funny,” King chortles. With Marcus Ward seriously lacking oxygen, TORU turns away from the bristling Brian Warner and steps awkwardly out through the ropes to the apron before taking hold of the top rope in both hands. Instead of using his legs to propel himself in the big man leans back to use the maximum of ‘spring’ from the cable, then gives himself a quick boost and slingshots himself in, hitting a rolling guillotine legdrop from the apron onto his opponent! TORU then covers as Chris Card counts hopefully along… ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHH- -but Marcus Ward kicks out again, and neither TORU, Card nor Natasha can believe it! Takahara gives Warner the double middle finger to show him what he thinks of that verdict and grabs Ward by the hair, then drags the Mastermind up to his feet (not without some effort, given his dodgy leg). TORU then proceeds to scoop Ward up and slam him down, although he staggers sideways from the effort, then heads for the turnbuckles once more. “It’s worth noting that after his early kicks, TORU hasn’t targeted Marcus Ward’s legs despite the fact that they are known to be a weak point,” Pete points out. “I’d say that’s because Ward himself has had a few close calls with his Bavarian Bonebreaker, and TORU wants to end this quick with more high-impact moves to the head and chest!” “That, and the fact that TORU attacks his opponent’s offence to limit their offence, not win the match,” King chips in. “However, as you pointed out in your one accurate statement this year, he hasn’t got time to mess around now; it’s all or nothing.” TORU certainly seems to agree with the commentators, as despite his bad leg he is climbing towards the top rope, facing out towards the fans. For a moment the big man balance on the top, wobbling slightly as his left leg protests, but then he leaps up and backwards… It isn’t, in truth, a particularly graceful moonsault. The enormous hangtime normally associated with TORU’s aerial moves is absent. It’s good enough to flip him over backwards to land on his front though. *BANG!* It’s just a shame that the slow climb allowed Marcus Ward to move out of the way. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” As long as the fans are booing Marcus Ward generally knows he’s doing alright, and now is no exception. The first thing TORU did on landing was grab his knee, but Ward doesn’t want to risk any mistakes now and he doesn’t immediately target the stricken limb. Instead the Mastermind hauls TORU up to his feet and slips behind him, then locks in a full nelson and snaps backwards with a Dragon Suplex! ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Brian Warner only finds two as Ward’s bridge collapses, but Marcus Ward doesn’t seem unduly bothered by the lack of a pinfall; instead the Mastermind takes a quick breath - something still in reasonably short supply for him - and grabs TORU again, hauling the big man from Japan up onto his shoulder in a facedown position. Ward takes a couple of steps and then falls forward, driving TORU down into the mat backfirst… *WHAM!* “A… well, I was going to say ‘running power slam’, but it was more like a stumbling powerslam,” Pete says as Ward gets on top of TORU and hooks the leg, “but could it be enough?” ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! “YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “T!K!O!” “T!K!O!” The crowd are still behind their rule-breaking anti-hero, but things are looking bleak for the bigger half of TKO as Ward grabs his left leg again and appears to be trying to apply the Bavarian Bonebreaker… but TORU fights it, and Ward abruptly rolls him onto his front and stamps on his back then turns and heads for the ropes. The Mastermind hits the cables - and Natasha hooks his feet, causing him to land on his face! “I can only assume that Marcus Ward wanted to make sure that TORU didn’t have enough breath to fight the Bavarian Bonebreaker and was going for his signature double knees to the back,” Pete comments, “but he left himself open to interference by Natasha… and referee Warner has seen enough!” Sure enough, the official is having some severe words with the Gothic Bitch. Natasha argues her case but Warner is having none of it, and he angrily points to the back, banning the female half of Chris Card Enterprises from ringside! Ward has got back to his feet and adds his voice to the tumult, yelling several uncomplimentary things at Natasha as she grudgingly retreats. “Marcus, Marcus, Marcus,” King sighs as TORU rolls over to Chris Card at the apron. “Never turn your back on an opponent, especially not one like TORU Takahara. You’ll learn, in time.” Ward seems to have heard the Gambling Man as he abruptly leaves off his derisive bawlings and heads towards his opponent. He grabs TORU’s left leg and hauls the big man back towards the middle of the ring, but the referee’s back is still turned… *PFFFFFFFTTTTTTT!* “ARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!” Marcus Ward staggers back, clutching at his eyes once again as the deadly Sake mist claims him one more time, courtesy of a quick Chris Card ‘refill’! Her job done, Natasha heads towards the back as Brian Warner turns around to check on the match, only to see Ward swiping at his face as TORU staggers up to his feet. Takahara bellows a challenge and charges at his opponent… …but Marcus Ward manages to clear his vision, and lifts the surprised man from Japan up into a military press! “Conspiracy Crash!” Pete shouts, “this is the move that pinned KOJI and beat TKO!” …but as Marcus Ward starts pressing his opponent he seems to make some miscalculation, as TORU is able to slip out of the move and land behind him! For a moment it seems that Takahara is still in trouble as his left leg gives way on landing and he crumples to one knee, but as Marcus Ward turns around Brian Warner is behind him and his view is blocked.. *CHING!* …allowing TORU to slam a headbutt straight into the groin of the Mastermind! “YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Ward’s eyes bulge and the Bavarian stops with a groan of pain before doubling over. TORU straightens up and takes a second to slap his stomach, indicating to the rather dubious referee that he caught his opponent in the midsection, then reaches down and underhooks one arm… then the other… “Now it’s TORU’s turn, and I think we could be about to see the same move that pinned Marcus Ward in their first tag team meeting!” LDP speculates. Sure enough, TORU braces himself, including his weak left leg, then hoists the Mastermind UP… …AND… …DOWN! *BANG!* “TIGAAAH DRRRIIIIVVVVAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!” King and Pete yell in perfect unison as Marcus Ward’s shoulders are driven into the canvas. TORU holds it for the pin and Brian Warner drops to make the count… ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! *DING-DING-DING!* “YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “T!K!O!” “T!K!O!” “Ladies and gentlemen,” Funyon booms to make it official as ‘Tribe’ strikes up again, “the winner of this match by pinfall… TOOOOORRRRRUUUUUUUU… TAKA-HAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAA!!” The cheers in Madison Square Garden are by no means unanimous - TKO, for all their ability to infuriate heels, are still far from being the clean-cut crowd-pleasers of the 1980s - but they are certainly the dominant sound. TORU climbs unsteadily back to his feet and pauses briefly to give the crowd a double middle-fingered salute, then turns back to Marcus Ward… and fires two quick snot rockets down on the stricken Mastermind! “Ugh, that’s disgusting!” Pete says. “You’ve beaten the man, congratulations, but is there any need for that?” “Dogger, TKO drove a monster truck over Landon Maddix’s limousine,” Suicide King reminds his broadcast partner, “the word ‘respect’ isn’t in their vocabulary.” “That’s because they don’t speak much English.” “Well, that too.” TORU Takahara and Chris Card are now making their way back up the entrance ramp where Natasha - who never actually made it to the backstage area - is waiting to greet them. Meanwhile in the ring, Marcus Ward has found enough breath to sit up. The growling Mastermind wipes the mucous from his chest in disgust, then glowers up after his departing opponent. “Fans, I don’t think this issue is settled!” Longdogger Pete says as TORU turns around to flip the bird at Ward one final time before disappearing backstage, “TORU Takahara overcame the unfamiliar singles match environment to achieve some measure of revenge for his team’s loss to Marcus Ward and Bruce Blank, but you’ve gotta know that Ward won’t be happy about it, and TKO will want to get a tag win back just to prove their point! But whatever’s going to happen, it’s going to have to wait until after the rest of GENESIS VI!!” FADE OUT

“Well fans, I’m here backstage at Genesis, and I’m here with Chris Card,” Ben Hardy says, putting on his best grin for the camera. “Chris-” “That’s ‘Mr. Card’ to you, Hardy,” Card says, adjusting the lapels of his suit. “…‘Mr. Card’,” Hardy begins again with a grimace, “the last time I spoke to you it was just before your new team, TKO, defeated Marcus Ward and JJ Johnson in a tag match. However, in their most recent outing they lost to the team of SWF Hardcore Gamer’s Champion Bruce Blank… and Marcus Ward.” Chris Card looks at Ben Hardy for a few seconds. “Ye-es,” he says eventually, “did you have a point?” “Only that with their debut winning streak broken, TORU Takahara and KOJI Kitano must have been very annoyed,” Hardy says, “and I wondered if that would effect the singles match tonight that TORU has-” “Let me just cut you off there Ben,” Card says, casually removing the microphone from Hardy’s hand, “before you choke on good intentions and poor grammar.” Technical Perfection turns to address the camera, even reaching out to the lens to make sure the shot is focused fully on him and not Hardy. “You see, those of you watching on a regular basis and not just tuning in once a year in the hope of seeing some of your old favourites back to stink up the ring with poor timing and weak offence in the name of ‘nostalgia’ will have noticed that TKO, the TORU KOJI Organisation, is a tag team like no other here in the SWF,” Card begins with a self-satisfied smirk. “They have been wrestling together, as I have said before, for three-and-a-half years. They know each other like the backs of their hands, and with my expert guidance they have adapted well to the North American style. Now,” the British ex-pat continues, “there is no reason, none at all, why TKO shouldn’t defeat each and every team they face in the SWF… but at the same time, you have to allow for the occasional statistical anomaly, the occasional fly in the ointment, and the occasional sheer refusal of talentless hacks to admit when they are outmatched. That happened a couple of weeks ago when Marcus ‘The Mastermind’ Ward and Bruce ‘Trailer Park’ Blank pulled off a stunning display of luck over talent when they managed to get a fluke pin over the greatest tag team in both hemispheres.” Off to one side, Ben Hardy can be seen trying to get back into the picture and reaching for his microphone, but Card casually shoves him away and continues. “Gentlemen, TORU and KOJI would love to be able to address you themselves, but you wouldn’t understand a word. However, I am here to do it for them, and I can summarise thusly; brute force and ignorance will only get you so far, and for you, Marcus Ward, it ends tonight. You are getting into the ring with a man who was rated as one of Japan’s top singles prospects a few years ago before he decided his future lay in tag team wrestling; it doesn’t matter that he hasn’t been in a singles match since December 2003, because tonight Marcus Ward, you will find out why TKO will control global pro-wrestling!” Chris Card adjusts the set of his suit once more, goes to hand the microphone back to Ben Hardy (but drops it just before Hardy gets his hand to it) and leaves, leaving the camera to follow him. FADE OUT

New York, New York, it’s a hell of a town! The night is still young, and a bevy of young ladies filing out a Limousine in front of Madison Square Garden, even younger. They seem eager to leave the company of whoever was inside, scurrying down the street to the nearest bar. In the back of said Limousine sits Wes Davenport, semi-famous, forever shameless, B-movie actor and man-about-town. The very man who bought you such box office disappointments as, “Wallaby Wally” and “The not-so-talented mutual acquaintance of Mr. Ripley” stretches out across the fine leather seats, not particularly looking forward to the task ahead of him. Not two short hours ago, he was partying with the likes of Corey Feldman, Stephen Baldwin and Tracey Gold... - - - - - - Tracey Gold: “You know? From Growing Pains? The Growing Pains movie?” Wes stares back at the actress with a blank expression. Tracey Gold: “With Kirk Cameron?” Wes begins to open his mouth, and then decides against it, pointing at an untalented mailbox on the front lawn. “Hey, is that Michael Bay!?” The entire crowd turns around in excitement as Wes runs away. - - - - - - “Trust me, Wes; this is a big, big chance for you.” The reassuring voice belongs to Barry Jacobs, manager and long time confidant of Mr. Davenport. Through thick and thin, the tough times and the… even tougher times (which came a short time after “Pearl Harbour 2” was released) Jacobs had stuck by his client, and today, his hard work and diligence could finally pay off. Wes nods his head, although still not terribly convinced. “I know man, I know… but do I really have to go through this? I thought I had left this two-bit sideshow behind me a long time ago. I mean, wrestling… it’s so beneath me!” A stifled laugh is heard from the driver’s seat as Wes raises an eyebrow. Barry quickly intervenes, “I know, Wes, but look at it this way. You’ll be here, what, 2 months? Even less than that? And it’s not like you’ll be out in the ring-“ “-in front of all those inbred geeks-“ “-yes, yes, you’ve mentioned the in-bred geeks to me before,” Barry responds, “It’s not like you’ll be put in harms way; you’ll simply be training and observing. I wish there were a way around it, but Universal want this movie to be a hit, and they want you Wes! They want the real experience, and you’re going to deliver it.” Liking the sound of that, ‘that’ being his own name, Wes smiles widely, “No problem, Barry! There’s no wonder they do, I’ve got the body, the looks, and the background. I can do two months standing on my head. What’s the worse that could happen!?” Wes lets out a bellowing laugh as he opens the door to the Limo, leaving Barry, who takes a deep breath and wipes the sweat from his brow, gulping the down the last of his scotch. What the time-beaten, alcoholic divorcee manager hadn’t mentioned was that the movie deal was on thin ice, and the plug could be pulled any minute, but Barry couldn’t tell Wes. Jacobs had managed some of the best in his thirty five years in the industry, but he had fallen on tough times, thanks to his “addictions”, and lost many of his best clients. This was perhaps Jacob’s last shot, and he had to ride it for all it was worth. Whether he liked it or not, Wes Davenport could be his only saving grace. He puts his glass down, and takes the bottle of scotch with him. “What’s the worse that could happen…” “It’s time for our first title defense of the evening,” says Longdogger Pete, “as Wild and Dangerous will defend their Tag Team Titles against Ghost Machine and the Crimson Skull. King, Wild and Dangerous have been able to hold onto the titles in recent weeks, but that has not been without some controversy!” “Definitely not,” replies King. “You could definitely make the argument that Spike Jenkins and Zyon deserved to leave Lockdown with a victory; and if it weren’t for the fact that Spike Jenkins allowed himself to be distracted by Tom Flesher, they very well could have!” “Well, between that, and the fact that Johnny interfered in the previous handicap match that Spike and Zyon also should have won, there’s been a lot of public backlash towards the Tag Team Champions in recent weeks!” “Well, you heard about what happened earlier today, didn’t you?” asks King. Upon seeing Pete shake his head, King continues. “Apparently, Wildchild was confronted by a group of fans on his way into the building this afternoon; a lot of them were very unhappy with the fact, not only with the fact that they’re still champions, but also with the fact that they’re still together!” “Well, maybe they have a point, King,” says LDP. “I mean, a lot of fans had sympathy for Wildchild, for the fact that he had to put up with Johnny’s behavior… but the longer Wildchild continues to be friends with Johnny, the longer he allows himself to ‘turn a blind eye,’ so to speak, to Johnny’s actions, the less sympathetic the fans have become to him. Heck, I might even go so far as to say that fans are starting to get tired of him!” “I think that fans are getting tired of both of them,” adds King. “Back when Johnny beat Ejiro to regain the World Heavyweight Title, he was getting booed out of the building. Nowadays… well, he’s still getting booed, but you’ve been in the business as long as I have, MacDougal; you know that there’s getting booed, and then there’s getting booed.” “No question,” agrees Pete. “I think that some of the shine has come off the Tag Team Champions… I mean, here are two guys who amazed fans with their athletic ability when they came to the SWF, and established themselves as a dominant tag team with their tremendous continuity and tandem moves, but now it almost seems like fans have had enough of them!” “You think that the fans want Wild and Dangerous to leave the SWF?” “Well, I don’t know about that,” replies LDP, “but I definitely think that they want them to split up; I can’t help but think that this ‘will they or won’t they split up’ pseudo-drama has gotten on a lot of people’s nerves… perhaps they both be better served by spending some time apart from each other.” “Unfortunately,” chimes King, “as long as they’re in possession of the Tag Team Titles, they may not have any choice but to continue to work together, much to the dismay of the fans.” “Which brings us to our matchup tonight,” says Pete. “Ghost Machine and the Crimson Skull have never teamed together, but they are both motivated to get their hands on some gold here in the SWF; let’s not forget that Ghost Machine came within an eyelash of becoming the World Heavyweight Champion just a few months ago. So you can bet that he wants to finally climb that mountain, and what better stage to capture your first title than at Genesis?” “Definitely,” agrees King. “If you have the opportunity, Genesis is definitely the place to win it; then the world remembers… but, I’ll tell you what, MacDougal, Ghost Machine and the Skull may be better equipped to defeat Wild and Dangerous than any other team that come though in quite some time!” “That’s a good point, King,” concedes Pete. “We know that Wild and Dangerous have historically had a lot of difficulty with larger opponents. As you may be aware, throughout the many years that Wild and Dangerous have been a team here in the SWF, they’ve only been defeated in two-on-two action once, and that was by the massive members of the Unholy Trinity. And Ghost Machine and the Skull are the two of the biggest men in the SWF today, so they could very well have the same advantage.” “And another thing,” points out King, “is that this isn’t a standard tag team match, but a Tornado Tag match. The one true strength of Wild and Dangerous as a team has always been to hit quick double-teams within that five count, while their opponent’s partner had to sit on the apron, and that advantage is nullified by the both men being allowed in the ring!” “What all that adds up to is a tremendous opportunity for Ghost Machine and the Crimson Skull!” exclaims Pete. “Could it be a golden opportunity? Will history be made once again, here in the Garden? We’ll know in just a few minutes, as we send it over to Funyon for the ring introductions!” DING! DING! DING! The sound of the bell sends Funyon his cue, as he raises the microphone to his lips and says, “the following contest is a Tornado Tag match, scheduled for one fall! And, it is for the SWF World Tag Team Championship!” EVERYBODY DANCE NOW! BOOM! The stage erupts in a pyrotechnic burst, and six scantily-clad dancers run out, bumping and grinding to the sound of C&C Music Factory’s “Gonna Make you Sweat.” Seconds later, the challengers make their way out to the ring together, accompanied by their respective corner men. “Making to the ring at this time, are the challengers!” booms Funyon. “At a total combined weight of five hundred ninety-seven pounds, and being accompanied by their respective managers, JL Crunk, and Heff! First, from parts unknown, the GHOST MACHINE! His tag team partner, currently residing in Kiev, Ukraine… the CRIM-SON SKUUUUUL!” “These guys look ready to me, King,” says Pete. “Or at least as ready as you’d expect two guys who have never teamed together to be!” “I can’t help but be surprised at the reaction that these two are getting from the fans,” says King, referring to the smattering of cheers in the crowd. “I mean, I can understand being sick of Wild and Dangerous… hell, I’ve been sick of them since they were in the JL! But, have we really reached the point where they’re so disliked that these two guys, two of the most universally disliked… oddballs in the fed are actually getting cheered over them?” “Well, we all know that the Garden fans are some of the most unique fans in the world,” says Pete. “This may well be an isolated incident; we’ll just have to wait until we get back on the road to determine how severe this reaction is!” Heff and Crunk get their men focused on the task at hand, as “Gonna Make you Sweat” fades out, to be immediately replaced by the shrill cry of an electric guitar, as the Prodigy’s “Fuel My Fire” begins to play: BOOOOOOOOOO! Several fans in the MSG crowd, as they are wont to do, show their individuality by booing the Champions as they come down to the ring, their cries drowning out those of the fans who choose to cheer. Wildchild appears emotionally distraught by the fans reactions, while Johnny responds with a sneer as he flips off the crowd. “Their opponents,” continues Funyon, “at total combined weight of four hundred thirty-one pounds, are the SWF World Tag Team Champions: Wild! AAAAAND DAAAAANGEROUS!” BOOOOOOOOOO! “Wow!” marvels King. “You mentioned that the fans here in the Garden are unique, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a reaction like this!” Johnny and Wildchild slide into the ring and surrender the Tag Team Titles to referee Ronald “Red” Herrington. Herrington holds the belts overhead as Wild and Dangerous head to a corner, and then walks over to the edge of the ring to hand them to the exiting Funyon. Before the Champions’ music can even fade out, Ghost Machine and the Skull lumber across the ring and attack them from the blind side! Herrington signals the timekeeper to ring the bell: DING! DING! DING! “And this match is underway!” shouts Pete. “And the challengers have decided to get things going before the bell even sounds!” Ghost Machine hammers on Johnny in the corner while the Skull pushes Wildchild into the opposing corner, before getting in a little beatdown of his own. The two challengers glance back at each other and then whip Wildchild and Johnny into each other, causing them to collide in the center of the ring! The MSG fans continue to cheer as Ghost Machine lifts Wildchild into the air with a military press and carries him over to the edge of the ring before dumping him down to the arena floor! GM then walks over to where the Skull has Johnny backed into the ropes, and helps him whip the Barracuda across the ring. Both men lower their heads as Johnny bounces off the ropes, but Johnny snaps Crimson Skull upright with a sharp kick to the face, following it immediately with a Scorpion kick that knocks him to the canvas! The Barracuda catches Ghost Machine as he looks up to see what happened, and grabs him by the wrist, whipping him into the ropes. Ghost Machine reverses, however, and levels Johnny as he rebounds with a ferocious clothesline! “This match is just getting underway,” says Pete, “but so far, the challengers are manhandling the Tag Team Champions!” “Well, it’s like you said earlier,” adds King, “these guys are just too big for the two pretty boys!” Ghost Machine pulls Johnny to his feet and traps him in a standing headscissors, signaling for a Powerbomb, which incites cheers from the crowd. “Ghost Machine trying to put Johnny away early with a Powerbomb,” says Pete. “But he’d better be aware of where Wildchild is!” Sure enough, Wildchild has recovered enough to return to the ring apron, and has climbed up to the top rope as GM bends down to lift Johnny up for the Powerbomb. Wildchild leaps off the top turnbuckle and grabs GM by the sides of his trunks, as he tries to pull him backwards into a flying Sunset Flip! Ghost Machine struggles against Wildchild’s efforts, and uses his superior strength to nearly fight his way out of it… CRACK! … But Johnny rises into the air to catch him with a dropkick that sends him flying backwards! Herrington rushes in for the cover: ONE! TWO! But Ghost Machine easily kicks out at two! Wildchild beats GM to his feet and he and Johnny decide to focus on the Crimson Skull, who has returned to his feet as well, whipping him into ropes and taking him over as he rebounds with a double-hiptoss! They then turn towards Ghost Machine and leap into the air, sending him stumbling with a double dropkick… but the big man doesn’t go off his feet! With GM still off-balance, Wild and Dangerous pull Crimson Skull to his feet and whip him across the ring into his partner, knocking Ghost Machine through the ropes and out to the arena floor! The Skull stumbles backwards towards the center of the ring, and right into the waiting arms of Wild and Dangerous, who lift him up into the air and drop him backwards onto the canvas with a double backdrop driver! Johnny and Wildchild get to their feet, and the Bahama Bomber races towards the ropes, leaping into the air as he rebounds into the waiting arms of his partner, who gives him a little boost with a military press that launches Wildchild a few feet higher into the air… SPLASH! … Before crashing into the Skull’s chest with a flying body splash! Herrington makes the count: ONE! TWO! But the Crimson Skull kicks out with authority! Johnny delivers a series of elbows to the back of the Skull’s head as he tries to get to his feet, while Wildchild races towards the edge of the ring, stunning GM with a baseball slide as he gets to his feet outside the ring! Wildchild joins Johnny in trapping the Skull in a double front-facelock, before lifting him into the air and slamming him back down to the canvas with a double vertical suplex! They then each head to a different corner as they get ready to set up a double-team maneuver. “Looks like Wild and Dangerous may be going for the Extinction Level Event!” shouts Pete. “Well, if they hit it, it could be tough luck for Ghost Machine and the Skull,” says King. “But look at that: Heff just jumped on the apron. It looks like he’s trying to get someone’s attention!” Sure enough, Heff succeeds in distracting Wildchild long enough for JL Crunk to run across the other side of the ring and grab Wildchild’s leg! The Bahama Bomber hops down from his perch as Crunk scrambles to the arena floor, and gives chase… WHAM! … But Ghost Machine knocks him into the air with a devastating clothesline as he rounds the corner of the ring! Ghost Machine climbs back into the ring and immediately targets Johnny Dangerous, lumbering towards the Barracuda… and leaping into the air? WHAM! “Holy Cow!” exclaims King. “Look at that big man get up for that dropkick!” “That’s three hundred pounds plus that just got off the canvas!” agrees Pete. “I didn’t think he had it in him!” Ghost Machine rumbles, fumbles and stumbles to his feet, at which point he drags Johnny to a nearby corner, while directing Crimson Skull to the outside. “Ghost Machine and Crimson Skull have taken control of this match,” says Pete, as GM plants Johnny with a tremendous belly-to-belly suplex. “Wild and Dangerous are going to need some divine intervention in order to leave Madison Square Garden with the titles tonight!” “And look at this!” shouts King. “The Crimson Skull’s going to the top rope!” “I’ve heard that he had a frog splash in his arsenal,” adds Pete, “but I’ve never seen it myself!” “Well, there’s no better place to debut a move like that then at Genesis!” says King. “And how poetic would it be if these two three hundred pounders could take the Tag Team Titles from Wild and Dangerous with a high-flying move; talk about adding insult to injury!” “Adding injury to injury is more like it!” says LDP. Ghost Machine backs away from the corner as the Skull looks out into the crowd. FLY, FAT-ASS, FLY! FLY, FAT-ASS, FLY! FLY, FAT-ASS, FLY! FLY, FAT-ASS, FLY! “The crowd’s getting into it,” says King. “Like we’ve mentioned before, MacDougal, these fans are tired of seeing Wild and Dangerous hold on to those belts… but he’d better not take too long up on that top rope!” The Skull leaps off the top rope, his arms and legs pumping in a jackknife motion as he plummets towards the canvas… BANG! … However, nobody’s home, as Wildchild reaches into the ring to grab Johnny by the ankle and pull him away just in the knick of time! BOOOOOOOOOO! “Wildchild making the save for his team,” says Pete, “and these fans aren’t happy about it!” “Well, they thought they’d get to see a three hundred pound man crush Johnny Dangerous with a frog splash,” replies King. “I’d be a little disappointed, too!” Wildchild pulls Johnny all the way out to the floor, and then bends down to check up on him, but Ghost Machine reaches over the top rope to grab the Caribbean Cruiser by the hair and pull him up to the apron. The crowd cheers as Ghost Machine turns Wildchild’s body away from the ring, and then raises his massive arm into the air, signaling a hammer blow! THWACK! But before GM can deliver, Wildchild reaches up to grab him by the head and drops down off the apron, clotheslining Ghost Machine on the top rope! Wildchild quickly scrambles back onto the apron and leaps onto the top rope as GM is staggering backwards, flipping forward as he springs into the ring and planting both feet into Ghost Machine’s chest, knocking him flat on his back with a Shooting Star Missile Dropkick! Wildchild scampers towards the edge of the ring and leaps back onto the top rope, flipping in a forward motion as he springs back into the ring to crash into Ghost Machine with his patented Falling Star Press! “There’s the Falling Star Press!” shouts Pete. “This could be it!” ONE! Crimson Skull tries to get to his feet to break up the pinfall… TWO! Johnny Dangerous hooks the Skull’s ankle from the outside, tripping him up! THREE! NO! The MSG fans come out of their seats as Ghost Machine kicks out with authority! GHOST MA-CHINE! GHOST MA-CHINE! GHOST MA-CHINE! GHOST MA-CHINE! “Listen to this crowd chant for Ghost Machine!” exclaims LDP. “I tell you what, King: I’m shocked by the way that these fans here in the Garden have completely sided against Wild and Dangerous, but I’m even more shocked that Ghost Machine could kick out of that!” “Ghost Machine just showed me something,” says King. “I mean, Wildchild has been very successful with that move in the past. In fact, it’s his primary weapon against opponents of Ghost Machine’s size, so I’m very impressed that he could kick out of that!” “King, that’s an understatement if I ever heard one,” adds Pete. “Wildchild has won many a match with that move… hell, he’s won titles with that move… and Ghost Machine just threw him off like yesterday’s garbage!” Wildchild beats Ghost Machine to his feet and grabs him by the wrist, attempting to whip him across the ring, but Ghost Machine reverses easily. Crimson Skull slides over to intercept Wildchild as he bounces off the ropes, lowering his head to deliver a back-body drop, and launching the Bahama Bomber into the waiting arms of Ghost Machine… BANG! WHO PLANTS HIM INTO THE CANVAS WITH A DYNAMIC POWERBOMB! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! “Good God!” shrieks Pete. “What a Powerbomb! What an excellent tandem maneuver!” “You know, I smell a title change in the air, MacDougal!” says King. “I think that the unremarkable fourth reign of Wild and Dangerous is about to breathe its last breath!” GM points at Crimson Skull and points at the ropes before slapping his hands together three times. “Crimson Skull’s going for the legdrop,” says Pete, upon noticing the Skull slapping his thigh three times. “That should put the finishing touches on this!” Ghost Machine turns to face the crowd as the Skull runs past him to bounce off the ropes. GM raises his arm in salute at the cheering fans as Skull prepares to come off the opposing ropes… CRASH! But Johnny reaches up to grab the top rope, pulling it down as the Skull reaches the edge of the ring, and sending him flying out to the floor, landing awkwardly on his head! “Yikes!” cries Pete. “What a bad break by the challengers!” GM turns around upon realizing that he hasn’t heard anything resembling what should have been a big impact, only to discover Johnny attempting to roll Wildchild out of the ring. He storms over to the Barracuda and grabs him by the back of the head, pulling him away from his partner. Johnny breaks free and slaps the larger man in the chest with a stiff Shotei, but Ghost Machine simply glares at him without emotion! “Look at that!” shouts King. “No effect! Johnny Dangerous just caught Ghost Machine flush in the chest with a Shotei, and Ghost Machine didn’t move! He didn’t even blink!” GM begins to advance on Johnny, who continues to pelt him futilely with Shotei, even as he’s being backed into a corner. Once there, Ghost Machine jams a massive palm underneath Johnny’s chin to push his head back, exposing his chest as he draws back with his other hand… SMACK! WHOOOOO! … And delivers a vicious open-handed chop! SMACK! WHOOOOO! SMACK! WHOOOOO! Ghost Machine pulls Johnny out towards the center of the ropes and grabs him by the wrist, whipping him across the ring. GM lowers his head to deliver a back-body drop as Johnny rebounds, but the Barracuda stops him short with an elbow to the back of the head. Johnny backpedals towards the ropes as Ghost Machine returns to an upright position and leaps into the air to deliver a flying clothesline… that barely even moves the bigger man! Johnny runs back to the ropes to deliver a second flying clothesline; this one sends GM stumbling backwards a few steps, but can’t knock him off his feet. “Johnny Dangerous has hit Ghost Machine with two straight clotheslines, but he can’t knock the big man off his feet!” shouts LDP. “There’s a third clothesline… but Ghost Machine is STILL on his feet!” “I don’t think that Johnny can hurt this guy,” says King. “Maybe he really IS a robot… “Nah!” Johnny, seeing that Ghost Machine is only barely able to retain his balance, races to the ropes a second time, nailing GM with a fourth flying clothesline, and this time GM falls backwards like a felled tree, only able to avoid landing on his back when he lands on the ropes, which slingshot him back to a standing position, and even then, GM promptly falls to one knee! “Ghost Machine is lucky that those ropes were there,” says Pete, “because he was going out; he nearly got knocked into the first row!” Johnny spies Wildchild crawling around on the apron and whips his arm through the air to signify the end, much to the dismay of the MSG fans: BOOOOOOOOOO! “Is he crazy, or just stupid?” wonders King, as Wildchild wearily climbs onto the top turnbuckle. “Is he actually signaling for the Dangerous Drop?” “Look at this!” cries Pete, as Johnny tries and fails to get Ghost Machine off the mat. “He’s actually going to try it!” “This is a huge mistake,” says King, as Johnny struggles again. “He should never try lifting someone Ghost Machine’s size for a move like that!” “But, wait a second,” warns Pete, as Johnny finally manages to stand upright. “I don’t believe it, King; he got him up!” “Unbelievable!” remarks King. “Only at Genesis can I be surprised!” Johnny makes eye contact with Wildchild and then turns around as he begins a silent countdown in his head… WHAM! THWACK! But, just as he drops Ghost Machine forward in the Electric Chair Drop portion of the Dangerous Drop, Crimson Skull springs onto the apron and races over to the ringpost where Wildchild is perched, pushing him off the turnbuckle before he can take flight, and clotheslining him off the top rope! The Skull steps into the ring, breaking into a run as Johnny Dangerous gets to his feet and picking up speed as he turns around… BANG! … Leveling him with a ferocious spear! “Big spear by the Crimson Skull!” shouts Pete. “This could be it!” ONE! TWO! THREE! NO! “I can’t believe it!” shouts King. “Johnny was just able to get the shoulder up!” “And neither can these fans!” adds Pete, as the Garden collectively screams in frustration. Skull pulls Johnny to his feet and holds him in place, his arms pinned behind his back, as Ghost Machine slowly crawls to the ropes and pulls himself to his feet. Skull continues to hold Johnny as Crunk hands Ghost Machine a chair from outside the ring. “Well, this has to be it,” says King. “I don’t see any way that Johnny Dangerous can survive this!” The slow-moving (and slightly woozy) Ghost Machine raises the chair over his head and lumbers over to where Johnny is being held… CRACK! … But GM moves so slowly that Johnny has enough recovery time to wriggle free, and Ghost Machine ends up scrambling his partner’s brains! Ghost Machine is so astonished by what he’s done, that he can’t react fast enough to dodge the Barracuda, who leaps up and dropkicks the chair into his face, sending him staggering backwards into the corner. Johnny leaps up onto the second ropes and straddles Ghost Machine as he begins hammering away at GM’s now-busted nose. “He's worried!” exclaims King. “You cut him! You hurt him! You see? You see? He's not a machine, he's a man!” Pete turns and looks at King as if he had three heads. “What the hell is the matter with you?” “Sorry,” apologizes King, shaking his head. “I guess I got caught up in the moment!” Wildchild crawls back into the ring and pulls Crimson Skull to the opposing corner, keeping him stunned with diving shoulderblocks to the midsection until he gets a signal from Johnny. Wildchild and Johnny each grab their respective opponent by the wrist and attempt to whip them towards the center of the ring, but the challengers reverse with remarkable ease. Ever alert, however, Johnny lowers his head as he heads towards Wildchild, allowing his partner to fly right past him with a running leapfrog. The Tag Team Champions stand back-to-back in the center of the ring and taunt their opponents into coming out of the corner… CRACK! … And then dive out of the way as Ghost Machine and Crimson Skull slam into each other head-first! Johnny and Wildchild quickly elevate as the two challengers stagger away from each other, and knock the Skull to the canvas with a double dropkick! Wildchild and Johnny then grab Ghost Machine and send him into the ropes with a double-whip, blasting him in the mouth as he rebounds with a double Superkick that sends GM flying over the top rope and out of the ring! “Super Chicklet Buster!” exclaims Pete. “And this looks like the Champs’ match to lose!” The Garden fans jeer Wild and Dangerous as they stare out into the crowd, eliciting a “bitter beer face” from the Bahama Bomber. The Champions turn back towards the center of the ring… WHAM! … And Crimson Skull rushes at them, arms raised to deliver a double clothesline! Johnny goes down like a sack of potatoes, but Wildchild ducks underneath, and begins battering the Skull in the face with rapid-fire right hands as he turns around… to little effect! Crimson Skull begins to advance on Wildchild, but the Bahama Bomber finally stuns him with a boot to the midsection, and then grabs him by the wrist, attempting to whip him into the ropes. Crimson Skull reverses, however, and catches Wildchild in midair as he attempts a cross-body block on the rebound… WHAM! … But Johnny dives across the ring and nails the Skull in the back of the knee with a chop block that sends him falling down to the canvas with Wildchild on top of him! Red Herrington drops down to make the count: ONE! And Johnny jumps on top of Wildchild’s back, as the hold the Skull down with a double pin! TWO! THREE! DING! DING! DING! AAAAAAAAAAH! The MSG fans groan in exasperation as the referee’s hand slaps the mat a third time, frustrated by the fact that Wild and Dangerous have once again retained their titles. “Tremendous victory for Wild and Dangerous,” says Pete, “although the fans don’t seem to be too happy about it!” Johnny snatches his title belt away from Herrington as Funyon begins to speak on the outside: “Ladies and gentlemen,” booms Funyon,” the winners of the match… and STILL SWF World Tag Team Champions…” BOOOOOOOOOO! “WILD! AAAAAND DANGEROUS!” BOOOOOOOOOO! “Well, Wild and Dangerous escape Madison Square Garden with the Tag Team Titles,” says King, “but they look like they may be on borrowed time; Ghost Machine and the Crimson Skull came into the Garden tonight having never teaming before, and came within an eyelash of becoming the Tag Team Champions!” The next time that Wild and Dangerous have to defend against a legitimate team, the titles could be changing hands!” Fans surrounding the ring heave trash into the ring, pelting the Champions mercilessly until they scurry out of the ring like rats. “Let’s take a brief intermission to show you about some of our upcoming SWF Action,” says Pete, “while we clear the ring!”

Pete: And we’re off! What better than to start off Genesis with an old Tradition! Number one contender’s match! King: Pfft. Ooooh we get to— “Crusher Destroyer” by Mastodon quickly cuts off King, as Madison Square Garden’s electric bill goes off the charts with Manson’s seizure— liscious strobe lights. The tweener gets a mixed reaction as he lifts up his arms, showing off his Tribal Flame forearms. Funyon: Hailing from Denver Colorado, “THE RAGING BULL” MANSON! Pete: Manson really has the most to lose in this one, but at the same time has the most to gain. Years of struggle can be forgotten forever with a victory in this match. The music suddenly stops, but no new music is turned on, nor any fancy pants lights or pyro. Then a stocky oriental in a suit walks out of the gate, followed by a sauntering masked figure. King: And who might this be? Pete: This must be Akira! We’ve heard great things, and what a way to debut! King: A Number One Contender’s match on his first night in the company? What are we TNA now? Pete: Not with that entrance we’re not . . . Funyon: Being accompanied by Mr. Kobe, standing at an even 6 feet tall from Sendai, Japan . . . “THE DEVINE WIND” AKIRA KAIBATSU!!! Matthew Walters comes out the gate preceded by Devon, with yet another silent entrance. King: What, is music not COOL these days? Funyon: Being accompanied to the ring by his brother, Matthew, standing in at 7’3. . . Three Hundred and thirty five pounds . . .DEVON WAALTERS. King: Kaibatsu and Manson are going to have to work together if they want to take this hoss out of the match. Pete: I’m excited. Mad excited yo. King: . . . The bell sounds and the 3 competitors begin to circle each other. No one seems eager to take the first show. Akira and Manson leer at each other, both waiting for the other to grapple with Walters. Finally, Kaibatsu sticks his hand in the air, twiddling his fingers, trying a lockup. The giant and the rookie tie up in a test of strength type hold, with an obvious result. King: Is he crazy? Devon has an entire foot on him! Devon uses brute force to send Akira to his back, as Manson simply watches with amusement, but still has that focused look on his face. As the rookie, Akira is at a loss for what to do, and looks at Mr. Kobe, who screams something in Japanese. With his new input, Akira spins around clockwise, sweeping Manson off his feet, and brushing Devon with his arm. Akira makes a quick cover on Walters for nothing, Akira rolls off, and turns to hit a swift arm drag on the now-standing Manson. Manson gets up again and hits Akira with an arm drag of his own. Manson turns around, and ducks a Lariat from Walters, and rolls up for a school boy for a no count, whilst Akira runs to the ropes, and hits a Clip Kick on both grapplers, sending all three to the floor, only to simultaneously get up, and have a stare down, preceded by an applause ala Japan. Pete: This style strongly favors Akira King: Yeah, probably not best to wrestle a Japanese style against an Asian. I’m sure this Walters giant could force his own style in though as well. With his size you could command the ring. With the ice broken the action starts off a little quicker this time, with Walters immediately Scoop Slamming Manson to the floor. Walters then turns his attention to Akira, sprints towards the Asian Sensation, who rolls below the feet of Walters, and hits a Rolling Thunder on the fallen Manson. Akira gets up to make the cover can’t though, because as soon as he turns he is met by a Snap Suplex! Devon makes the cover on Kaibatsu. 1 2 Pete: Powerful kick out there King: Yeah, I don’t know if I’d use so much energy this early in the match. Akira kicks out, with authority, but not so much that he over powers this Titan, and uses his momentum from the break to get up and gain speed and to springboard off the ropes to a cross body on Walters, all in one technically sound motion. He is unable to do anything with his regained momentum however, as Manson is now at his feet, positioned behind Akira, who goes flying with Manson’s Bridged German Suplex! 1 2 Akira does a backwards somersault out of the bridge, which perfectly aligns him for a Shining Wizard. Alignment is all he’ll get though. As he runs, Walters NAILS him with Nirvana! Akira was however by the ropes, and slides out. Whether that was for a break, or the momentum of the move pushed him out, we don’t know, but regardless Akira is a non factor on the outside. King: YES! Get that chink out of the ring. Manson approaches Walters with a swagger as he binds his arms around Devon, attempting a Belly to Belly King: Oh yeah that’s a good idea, try and throw the biggest man in SWF around. Pete: Well . . . at least . . . uhh . . . I admire his work ethic? King: Right, you stick with that. Walters plants a smirk on his face, and then in one swift motion launches Manson too the turnbuckle with his own Belly to Belly. Pete: Oh! Did you see Manson’s head whiplash off the bottom of the turnbuckle? King: Yeah, that’s not too pretty . . . Pete: And Akira is still on the outside of the ring from the Nirvana Lariat! Walters makes a cover on Manson ONE TWO THRE—NO! Pete: The turnbuckle may have caused more damage, but it also allowed Manson to get his foot on the bottom rope! King: I can sense it, this is Mansons night. He’s worked too hard in this company to job to Spiderman and Shawn Bradley. On the outside, Mr. Kobe is over with Akira helping him up, while Matthew Walters jaws to Kobe about that Lariat. Mr. Kobe can hear, but pretends he doesn’t, sending his client and long time friend back into the ring. Akira starts to get up, but is only on his knees by the time Walters tries a Yakuza kick! However, Akira somehow finds the adrenaline to avoid the kick, and grasp Walters legs and try a flipping pin combination. On the outside, Mr. Kobe has let Matthew Walters get to him, and they are exchanging insults back and forth. Matt: Kobe, We’re better than you. If you don’t like it, well . . . that’s karma! Think about that . . . Kobe: Yeah, well I thought it all over, and now I’ll spit it out. And when I spit, I spit on those that I care less about! Kobe then spits right in the face of Matt Walters. Akira has Walters all set up for It Came from Sendai, but the sound of skin making impact on another mans face quickly diverts his attention over to Matt. Akira kicks Walters in the face and then walks over to the ropes by the two valets, and goes FLYING for a plancha, nailing the Big Man’s manager. However, this accomplished nothing but piss off Walters, as he ran towards the situation nailing a Tope on all 4 men! Pete: Kobe and Matt really had it coming. King: Matt had it coming!? Did you see the way Kobe spat in the face of Matt?! Manson, who by now is up and recharged of stamina simply waits in the ring, seated on the turnbuckle, awaiting 2 bloody messes for him to pick up on. Things start to pick up on the outside, as Matt beats on Kobe, and Devon beats on Akira. King: Aha, this is what we like to see. Two great American citizens fighting for what is theirs. After a few traded momentum shifts, Akira throws Devon back into the ring. The fully rested Manson quickly runs towards the befallen Giant and hits a baseball slide on his back, which hurls him at the guard rail. Manson taunts the crowd, getting loud pop. A pop destined to be louder, as Manson turns around, and is twirled with a top rope Huracanrana from Kaibatsu! 1 2 3! Would have one the match had Manson not kicked out in time! The Devine Wind is however not discouraged, and patiently awaits Manson to rise to his feet. When he finally does reach that point, Akira lifts him up and CRACKS Manson with the Devine Backbreaker!!! Kaibatsu chooses not to go for the cover however, he climbs the nearest top rope, in a flash hits a Senton Bomb! 1 2… … WALTERS LEAPFROGS THE ROPE TO MAKE THE SAVE! King: Holy shit that’s got to take every ounce of speed Walters had in his body to do that. Pete: No one can get up right now, they’re all winded. King: That’s pretty quick to be outta breath isn’t it? Pete: While that may be true, this match has been very fast paced. Akira is the first to his feet, and almost as if he had planned it, immediately turns to Mason, wraps his legs around him, and slaps at Manson’s back, grabbing his arms on the natural reaction to reach back there. Then leans all the way to Akira’s back and has a complete 90° Mexican Surfboard Stretch applied. Pete: Shades of Jushin Thunder Liger here. King: While this is a very painful and effective submission hold, it will take a lot of energy out of Akira and like you said before, energy he just doesn’t have. Walters reaches his feet finally, after his years worth if jumping, and sees the Surfboard Stretch, but rather then breaking it up, he takes his gigantic boot, and gets a hard kick on Manson’s back. Pete: Whaza? It seems like Walters and Kaibatsu are on the same page here! Walters hits a second one. Then, he stretches out a little bit, and gets ready to hit the biggest of the three. On Walters’ way up, Akira pulls a Charlie Brown, and moves Manson out of the way, sending Walters flat on his back. The Divine Wind makes a quick cover for a no count. Both get up at the same time, and Akira hits a Judo throw, both simultaneously get up again, and Walters hits an arm drag. Neither one wants to be the one to fall to the other, and get up quickly again. Walters tries a Yakuza kick, but Akira ducks, spins around Walters and PLANTS him with It Came form Sendai! 1 2 Matt gets up on the apron and distracts the referee from counting. Pete: Oh c’mon! Can we win this fairly! King: Great Strategy from the Walter Brothers. Pete: … Akira mumbles something in Japanese, and runs over to Matt and nails a Roaring Elbow! Walters then shows up from behind Akira, with Manson in front of Akira. Walters hits a German while Manson plants a Clothesline on Akira’s jaw King: That gives out so much damage, in many spots. Akira might be down for the count. Pete: Forget damage, I can’t believe those two could pull of a double team like that! Walters gets up after Manson, and as soon as he does so he is met with a Manson style Dragon Screw. King: Ooh. That actually causes more damage than it appears. Manson begins to put his focus on the leg now, and lifts Devon’s leg, and plants an elbow in it. King: Great strategy right here from Manson. Take the big man off his feet. He’s a lot smaller on his back then on his legs. Manson hits another elbow to the leg, and then begins to stomp on it. Manson looks around the ring, and then drags Walters over to the ropes, and places Devon’s leg on the rope at the knee joint. He then kicks away at the back of his legs, while screams of pain are heard all over the packed Madison Square Garden. After 5 or so kicks, Manson drags Devon over by the turnbuckle, where he prepares for the Savage Elbow. Over on the other side of the ring, Akira gets up, and runs to the side ropes, crotching Manson. Akira then springboards off the ropes, all the way up to Manson, and hits an enziguri all the way at the top, causing all 3 men to fall. Akira however is not done, and does a Ninja kick up, picks up Manson, and hits the STK on Manson, who also falls on Walters. Akira then planfully places Manson on his knees. Akira shakes his legs out a little bit, and then takes two short strides towards Manson and WHACK! A kick right to the chest. Akira goes back to his previous position, takes another group of strides and connects with another kick, knocking Manson on his back. Pete: Can you say stiff?!? Kings: Stiff Pete: … Akira then diverts his attention to the fallen big man, and lifts him up, in the position that Manson just was. Kaibatsu takes his time, taking his strides similar to the previous kicks, however this time Walters’ face became familiar with The Divine Wind’s blue kick pad, causing him to bleed out of his nose and mouth a little bit. On the outside Matt is screaming at Devon, “You can’t let him control the action like that!!” Akira then turns over to Matt, approaching him, and Matt quickly shuts up. This causes Mr. Kobe to chortle at Matt’s lack of balls. The playful chortle soon turns to a ridiculing snicker, but Matt tries to control his rage. Mr. Kobe: I thought you paralyzed a guy? What’s wrong? Little Jr. Heavy too scary? Akira soon learns that he shouldn’t get distracted by managers so easily, and he learns the hard way. Manson recovers from the kicks faster than initially anticipated, and nails a Moss Covered Three Handled Family Credenza on Akira!!!! Manson makes the cover!! ONE! TWO! THRKICK OUT!!! Pete: How the hell did Akira kick out of that? He’s not a no-selling bastard! King: A kick out at two isn’t exactly a no-sell… Hell, the Moss Covered Three Handled Family Credenza isn’t even Manson’s finisher . . . Pete: Oh now you’re just splittin’ hairs. Manson lifts up Akira, and locks him in a Full Nelson. Manson shakes him around for a few seconds before he flails his arms backwards hitting a Dragon Suplex! Manson holds on for a bridge. 1 2 THRNOOOO! Pete: Ok explain that one Captain Detail. King: It’s early. Manson will put him away. While all of this happens, Walters waits outside with his brother, regrouping. The minor cut on his mouth and nose appears to be more than minor, and is has blood everywhere on his face, dying his hair Crimson. Manson grows very frustrated that he is unable to put Akira away. And while the referee is distracted he goes underneath the ring, and grabs a steel folding chair. Akira is still getting up, which works very much to his disadvantage, as it gives Manson an opportunity to clock him, and Manson takes full advantage, sending Kaibatsu to the mat, creating the eye holes on his mask to fill with blood. Pete: Imagine how hard it must be to see now! On the outside once again, Mr. Kobe tries to be a good sport, and comes to check on Devon Walters. Matt: Oh Hell no! I don’t want you anywhere near him! Mr. Kobe: That was an act of sportsmanship. The argument progresses with the ref trying to separate them, hardly noticing that Walters got back in the ring. The giant Approaches Manson with anger that he would break the rules, and use a chair, and takes the chair right from him, unfortunately for him, The referee turned around at the same time, to see Devon Walters, chair in hand standing over a bloody Akira Kaibatsu King: Oh he’s fucked Referee: The referee points to the ring bell and disqualifies Devon Walters! Pete: No! He has to reverse the decision! It was Manson who hit the chair shot! King: Save it. Have you ever, EVER seen a referee reverse a decision? Besides, Manson was going to win anyway. Pete: Well, that might be a bit harder now, as it is now a singles match for the #1 contenders spot! King: Harder? Doesn’t that make it easier? There’s no one to break his pins? Matt: THIS IS BULLSHIT! IT WASN’T HIM! Devon: MANSON HIT HIM WITH THE CHAIR! I DIDN’T DO IT! King: Oh I’m sure screaming will help . . . Manson is enjoying every minute of it, and goes for a nonchalant cover on Akira. 1 2 NOO! Akira kicks out sending his own blood onto the chest of Manson. At a loss for what to do to put this masked man away, Manson climbs to the second rope, attempting a leg drop, but Akira rolls out of the way. Akira rolls over to Manson, and locks a mahidstrol cradle. Manson maneuvers his way to turn it into a pinning combination if his own. Akira does some spinning of his own, locking in another pin at 2. Both grapplers get up, and Akira hits a snap suplex, with Manson getting up immediately to hit a snap suplex of his own. Akira does the same, this time hitting a DDT. Manson gets up right away, and hits Akira in the face with a high knee, which Akira totally no-sells. Akira runs to the rope adjacent from Manson, and then nails a HUGE Lightning Leg Clothesline! Kaibatsu decides that rather than a cover, a submission would work here. So Akira takes both of Manson’s legs, twists them and turns around, locking in a Texas Cloverleaf! King: I don’t understand this move. He just hit a move that causes damage to the head area and then locks in a lower back submission. Akira has been showing his inexperience in the ring. I’m shocked a guy like Manson hasn’t been able to take advantage. Pete: Well in ways he has. King: Well the chair shot was genius, but other than that… Manson screams in pain as he reaches for the ropes6 inches away from his extended arm. Manson’s voice echoes throughout as he hollers and tears at his hair. Trying his hardest to reach the extra mile. Manson somehow finds some source of energy to push both of their weight close to the rope, but Manson is STILL to far away to reach the rope! Manson lifts his arm in the air, with a facial expression that just screams “I CAN’T TAKE IT!” Only he was really just screaming in pain. Manson has just one last push of energy that boosts him to the ropes. And the referee tells Akira to stop the hold. Pete: I can’t believe he stayed in there that long! King: Did you miss my whole explanation as to why he would, or is there someone else sitting next to me? Akira Irish whips Manson into the corner, and spits on his palm. He then raises his hand to motion being quiet. He challenged Manson to a chop battle. He motions to Manson to go first, but Manson’s not buying. So Akira goes first. Akira takes what seems like an hour worth of warm up for the chop. He gets a lot of Velocity going to the body, but just stops at Manson’s chest, love tapping him. Manson’s is anal at this point, and just flails a chop at Akira, who ducks and hits a roll up! 1 2 Kick out! Pete: Akira playing mind games with Manson King: No, Manson was just playing back. Reverse psychology . . . Pete: Oh I’m sure it was . . . Akira, now on his feet, lifts Manson up, and toe kicks him in the abdomen, flips over his back, and tries a sunset flip. Manson rolls backwards out of the pin though, and hits a front dropkick to the chin of Kaibatsu. King: If Akira wants to walk out of this thing the winner, he needs to avoid Manson’s power moves. There’s not a chance in hell Akira could take a Western Lariat or a Muscle Buster after the beating he’s taken. Manson gets on one knee at the side of The Divine Wind, and starts back mounted punches using his forearms. Akira’s once blue and white mask has made a 15 minute metamorphosis into red and purple. King: This is a beat down. PIN HIM NOW! Almost as if on command, Manson makes the pin fall 1 2 Akira kicks out at a count of two. Pete: We know you’re on the Manson bandwagon, but you’ve gotta give The Divine Wind some credit here! King: They were mounted punches, not a C5. You’re too generous. Pete: 30 seconds ago you said— King: Quiet! I wanna see the action! Manson lifts Akira to his feet by the arm, and Irish whips him with the same arm creating more speed. Akira would only be speedy for so long though, as he is greeted by a Spine buster on his way back. Manson uses the same Irish whip technique he did for the spine buster; only this time hit a powerslam pin. 1 2 Akira, at a loss for energy doesn’t kick out so much as he just rolls a shoulder up. Frustration is once again showing on Mansons’ face, but this time his face also shows determination. He will not be put down because Akira kicks out of his signature moves. Manson lifts Akira up by both arms, and locks in a Full Nelson, and tries a Dragon Suplex for the 2nd time. This time Akira manages to reverse it, jumping and kicking his legs back, into the stomach of Manson, causing him to reach at his belly, obviously breaking the hold. King: Very smart by Akira actually. The knees and stomach are natural reactions to protect when struck. Akira may have reversed the Dragon Suplex, but is unable to capitalize, and when you can’t capitalize . . . your opponent will. This theory is proven correct, as Manson runs over to Akira, who is in a sitting position, and applies a Sleeper hold. King: OH! GENIUS! With Akira bleeding like he is, there’s no way He’s getting out of this. Akira’s initial struggle tones down, as he begins to lose oxygen. After a good minute of this, Akira’s head just falls down. The referee lifts Akira’s arm in the air, and then lets it drop. “ONE!” he yells. He does the same. “TWO” he continues. Once again, finally his arm falls The referee motions to the ring bell, but Mr. Kobe stops him from ringing it! Kobe: He’s moving! He’s conscious!! The referee turns around, and Kobe is correct, Akira’s hand is flailing around, flowing with life, and the match continues. King: Ok, so he didn’t lose yet. He’s still in the hold. Akira takes his arm, and tries a back elbow, but because he has to reach behind his head, there’s almost no impact. Next he elbows the stomach. This doesn’t break the hold, but allows him to get in a position on one knee. Pete: He might not be in the hold for long though. King: Pushaw Akira, going with what works, elbows the abdomen again, allowing him to get to a vertical base. From the standing alignment they are in, Akira can reach back to Manson’s head, which he grabs by the back of the neck. Kaibatsu then drops right to his ass, hitting a stunner! Akira now has some momentum, and runs to the ropes behind Manson and hits a face crusher. Then Akira gets up, and springboards off the side rope, hitting a lionsault. 1 2 NO! Manson kicks out at 2! Pete: Neither guy will go down. King: Would you go down for a #1 contenders spot? Pete: You make a good point. Both of these men would love to get a title shot. For Manson, he has been in SWF since the beginning, and is yet to win the Heavyweight title. It’s been 4 long years, and he just can’t win that elusive Heavyweight gold. You saw him with that chair shot earlier. Desperation. For Akira, this is a GREAT opportunity to boost himself on the card only one match into his debut! Akira lifts up Manson, and then hits a dragon screw, making sure to keep hold of the leg. Then with the leg, he locks in a figure four! Pete: It’s the Figure Four! One of the prettiest moves in all of wrestling. King: And they’re square in the center of the ring. C’MON MANSON. Manson starts to shake his hand, like he’s on the verge of tapping. He then lets out one huge scream of pain, and rolls to his left, putting the pressure on Akira! King: WHAT A LEG LOCK. Pete: Way to catch that one early . . . Akira reaches towards the ropes, but they’re an impossible distance away. He swings his momentum to his left, but no luck rolling over. He swings his body once again, but no. Then in one last ditch effort, he rolls to his left and re locks the Figure Four! Due to all the rolling, the ropes are in Manson’s reach though. But Manson has a better idea. The Stampede rolls to his left once more, AND THEN grabs the rope, but not to break the hold. He grasped for leverage. The referee counts to 4, and then The Raging Bull finally lets go, and goes for a cover 1 Akira kicks out at one. Pete: It’s a submission, was he really expecting a 3 count? Manson pulls Akira up by the mask. Manson gives Akira an evil look, then gives him the Middle Finger, followed by an STO, with a cover 1 2 AKIRA KICKS OUT AGAIN!! King: This Windy guy is starting to piss me off. What a no-selling bastard. As soon as King says no-sell, that’s just what Akira does, rising to his feet all to quickly. Screaming, “Fuck you” in Japanese, and then releasing a brutal fury of knife edged chops. Akira screams once more, and then hits several overhead chops. Akira screams once more, and then hits Roaring Elbow! Cover! 1 2 MANSON KICKS OUT! Pete: I suppose Manson is a no-selling bastard now too huh? Akira lifts Manson, and hits an arm drag, continuing to hold on, locking in a side arm bar. Manson appears not to be in pain, but in annoyance. He reaches over and punches Akira in the face, but Akira holds on. Manson cranks his neck back, and plunges it forward hitting a head BUTT, but Akira still holds on. Manson now tries to just plain out power Akira, and exerts lots of force to stand up, and hit an arm drag, FINALLY getting The Divine Wind off his arm. Akira and Manson have a stare down, right in the center of the ring. The fans pop for the action they have seen so far. Manson runs and gets behind Akira, wrapping up at the waist. Akira tries to force his hands off, but when that doesn’t work, he uses both hands to unlock Manson’s left hand, and pushes forward for a Judo throw holding on for an arm bar, but Manson slips through Akira’s arched body, sweeping his legs, causing Akira to land on his face. Manson then takes Akira’s left leg, hooks it Boston crab style, and arches Akira’s head back for the STF. Akira quickly gets to the ropes, and Manson breaks, but then gets right back to work with a backslide pin for one, before separating and backing off. The two tie up again, and Manson maneuvers his way around to hit a Fireman’s carry, and then a back arm bar of his own. King: What’s with all the goddamn arm bars? Akira fins his way out, but Manson is on his toes, and hits a snapmare takedown, into a side headlock. Akira quickly makes his way to his feet, and twists his way out of the hold, but the grapple at the hands, on instinct, held over their heads. Manson wrenches Akira’s arm, but before he can do anything, Akira spins back into a normal arm position, and wrenches Manson’s arm back. After a few seconds with the arm like that, Manson rolls to the ground, and pops back up, thus re-wrenching Akira’s arm, and finally ending the sequence with a step takedown. Akira does a kip up though, wrenching Manson’s arm, refusing to lose the arm-related battle, but once again fails, as Manson reverses it into a wrench of his own. Akira is smart this time though, using leverage to lock in a headlock. Manson then does the old, ‘shove your way out of the headlock into the ropes’ motif, and tries a regular back body drop on the way back, but Akira lands on his feet, and runs to the other ropes. This time Manson gets him though, lifting Akira on his shoulders, spinning around for an airplane spin, but Manson over spins, just enough for Akira to slip out of the move, landing in front of Manson and swiftly bringing the Stampede over his head with a judo throw. Manson steps out of the ring to catch his breath. Akira just waits patiently. He is in no rush. Manson circles the ring, before actually re-entering. Things once again slow up a bit, as the two start with a wrist lock tie up, that turns into a test of strength type battle. Akira knows he can’t win this, so he kicks Manson’s leg, causing him to fall, while still connected at the hands. Manson has both shoulders down, so the ref begins to count. Only a one before Manson overpowers and gets his shoulder up. Akira tries to get another count, but Manson rolls his shoulders up, or “bridges up”. Akira tries his hardest to keep control though, and jumps up, and lands knee first on Manson’s abs. Not in a power way though, he does this for technical purposes, so Manson maintains the bridge. Akira then lifts his right leg up and kicks the knee of Manson, sending him down. Akira pins the arms down, and the ref counts to 1, before Manson overpowers, getting his right shoulder up. Manson rolls his shoulders, and gets in the same bridge position they were in before. Akira tries the same kick, but on his legs way up, Manson kicks Akira off. He then gets to a standing position, and hits a monkey flip, but Akira lands on his feet. He then turns around; runs at Manson and tries a Monkey flip of his own. He hits it, but Manson just rolls right up unharmed. Another stare down occurs. They tie up once again, and Manson hits a headlock takedown, and applies the ground headlock while down there. Akira tries a triangle choke, but Manson just rolls his head forwards a little bit, erasing the thought. Manson brings them to their feet rather quickly, and shoves Akira’s head between Manson’s legs, whips them back and applies a Gory Special. Manson then bends forward, applying a backslide like pin, but Akira flips him over and hits a sunset flip type pin. Manson then rolls forward and applies another pin. Akira rolls to his side and applies yet a different pin. Manson escapes Akira’s new pin, and suddenly runs through all the motions, and applies another Gory Special! Akira wiggles his feet lose though, and positions himself behind Manson, but Manson grabs the arm of The Divine Wind, from the back, and hits a modified arm drag. He applies a preceding arm bar right in the center of the ring. He then drops the arms, and locks in a Texas Cloverleaf! This cloverleaf quickly evolves into a Half Crab with Manson’s knee on top of Akira’s neck. Akira spins around, and eventually gets on one knee, breaking the hold, but Manson still has a hold of Akira’s leg. Akira manages to get his one foot on the ground, but it doesn’t stay there for long. Akira hits an enziguri right to the cheek bone, causing Manson to spit blood. Akira and Manson get up around the same time, but Akira is in control. He hits a trapped head but. Then pulls his arm back, and slices through with a knife edged chop. This chop pushes Manson over to the turnbuckle, which wasn’t exactly genius, as it trapped him there for another chop. Akira then whipped Manson to the opposite buckle and hit a lariat. He goes for the cover. 1 2 Kick out! Akira stays on the offensive, hitting a snapmare, and then locking in a Triangle Choke. This appears to be extremely unfair. Akira is using it as a rest hold while Manson is trying to freaking breathe. Manson rolls over, so that his head is facing the canvas. From here he manages to escape the Triangle Choke, and puts him in good position for a surfboard stretch. And this isn’t a half asses Surfboard, it’s a full 90° degrees. But then, in a sign of aggression, he drops Akira’s hands, and locks in a Dragon Sleeper, with the legs still in a surfboard position. Akira just squirms around in pain, at a loss for what to do. Eventually his wiggling got his feet free. He gets his feet on the ground, revolves around, somewhat slipping the position of the sleeper, kicking Manson off the hold. Akira and Manson get up rather quickly, and exchange punches. Manson gets the upper hand, hitting two chops and then a punch. Then Akira rolls off into the corner, and is nailed with a European Uppercut. Manson then Irish Whips Akira, and elbows him on the way back. He goes for the cover and only gets a 2 count. Manson heads out of the ring to catch his breath, and then when He is ready to go, he gets back in, to see a standing Akira. King: Damn it’s hard to keep this guy down! Akira gets a few light kicks in, and then Manson hits one or two of his own. The two exchange more striking moves, mostly kicks. The two then tie up, and Manson hits a single arm DDT, but Akira uses his free arm to push and get mounted on Manson, and starts to punch at Manson’s face. Manson rolls over though, and he is now mounted on Akira’s face, punching. After two or three punches Manson actually starts to headbutt Akira! Pete: It’s amazing how quickly a match can go from a technical showcase to a brawl like this. King: Yeah. This style definitely favors Manson, as well. Akira is going to have to get back to a tech match if he want to pull this out. Akira gets a punch in on Manson from under him, but Manson just continues to pound away. Akira uses his forearm to push Manson away. Akira then tries to kick him away, but Manson catches the leg, and turns it around for a Half Crab. Once again Manson plants the knee at the neck, but this time Manson gets MUCH more leverage on Akira, with Kaibatsu’s foot almost at his neck. Kaibatsu tries to get up, using his free leg, and does a somersault over, but Manson keeps hold of the leg, and mounts again, but instead of punching, he just finds a way to get back to the leg, putting in your every day Leg Lock. Akira manages to get up onto his ass, while still in the hold, and chops at Manson’s chest. Manson looks at Akira with a “That was nothing” look on his face. Akira tries again, but Manson just looks annoyed, and breaks the hold, and bitch slaps Akira. Both men rise to their feet, and Akira is pissed off, and slaps Manson right back! Manson slaps again, and the two get in a slapping battle! King: Oh this is technical wrestling at it’s finest… Manson ends the chopping with 3 forearms, and then a kick, sending Akira backwards, sitting on the bottom rope. Manson then whips Akira into the turnbuckle, and tries a running yakuza kick, but Akira ducks, and Manson’s leg is stuck over the buckle, allowing Akira to get in some free chops and kicks. Akira then hits an enziguri to Manson’s face, which doesn’t knock Manson to the floor, but certainly staggers him. Akira then runs towards Manson, and hits a Capo kick to the face, finally knocking down Manson. Akira stands over Manson in a taunting fashion before finally getting a cover. He only gets one for the delay. The two stare at each other eye to eye, within one inch of each other. Akira hits a double chop, and then a kick, but Manson just takes it, refusing to fall. Manson then back kicks Akira in the gut, and runs towards the ropes, and lariats Akira on the way back. Manson then does some taunting of his own before the cover, and HE only gets a one count. Manson picks up Akira, and hits several alternating knee strikes to the face. Manson turns Akira so he’s facing him, and then hits a suplex with a cover. 1 2 No! Kick out! King: Ugggh Manson then locks in a cross arm breaker. Akira rolls around to try and get out. All the rolling does is change the hold to a fujiwara arm breaker though. Manson then rolls upwards, and puts in a front face lock. He brings the hold up to his feet, and then breaks the hold. Manson then WHACKS Akira with a wicked chop. Akira totally no sells them, so Manson whips Akira into the corner, but Akira reverses it, and runs at Manson, attempting a clothesline, but Manson ducks out of the way, and hits an enziguri out of the way! Pete: Woah! An enziguri from Manson? Akira uses the turnbuckle to stay on his feet, but it was useless, as Manson turned Akira around and hit a bridged German suplex. 1 2 Kick out! Manson keeps his hands locked around the waist from the German though, and shifts them up to a full nelson. Akira does a back kick to Manson’s knee to get out of it. Manson grabs at his knee, reaching down, which allows Akira to kick Manson in field goal fashion to the face. After the kick, Akira goes to work on Manson with several knife edged chops. And then finally a side shuffle kick to Manson’s face that sends him to the floor. Akira catches his breath, and then goes for the cover. 1 2 Manson rolls the shoulder up. Akira lifts Manson up, and tries 2 clubs to the back of the neck. When this doesn’t work, Akira tries a running knee lift, with Manson using the near ropes to break him for falling in his face. Akira tries a Tiger Suplex with a bridge, which he somehow manages to hit! 1 2 3NOO! Kick out! Akira lifts up Manson and hits more knife edged chops. Akira drops to his ass, kicking his feet out, nailing Manson’s knee, sending him to the floor. Manson gets up rather quickly, and the two begin to exchange strikes. Akira ends the striking session with his 4th enziguri of the match. Both wrestlers get up, and catch their breath. Then tie they tie up again. Akira sweeps Manson’s foot for a step takedown. He then gets behind Manson, waiting for him to get up. When Manson does reach his feet, his back is to Kaibatsu, and Akira hits a Throwback. Akira goes for the cover. 1 2 Manson kicks out with ease. Akira lifts up Manson, and goes for another set of chops, but Manson ducks, and goes for a school boy. 1 2 NO! Akira kicks out. Manson lifts Akira, and hits a Suplex. He makes a cover for 2. Manson then takes Akira, and moves him to the center of the ring. Manson picks up Akira. He then hits a Tiger Bomb, right in the middle of the ring! 1 2 THRNOO! Akira tries to roll to the turnbuckle, to help him stay up, but just before he gets there, Manson attempts a German Suplex! Manson whips back and . . . Akira lands on his feet! Kaibatsu grabs Manson’s neck from behind, runs at the Turnbuckle AND HITS THE DIVINE WIND!!! 1 2 3!!! Pete: Oh my god king! Akira won the #1 contendership in his first match ever in SWF! King: Damnit Manson! It’s just a freaking Sliced Bread! Mr. Kobe rushes to the ring, and holds up the arm of the new Number One Contender. Through Akira’s bloodstained mask, you can see a Texas sized grin, with Mr. Kobe smiling wide for his long time friend. Funyon: Here is your winner and Number one Contender . . . “THE DIVINE WIND” AKIRAAA KAAIIBATSUUUUUU!!!!!

1.) It's the only e-wrestling federation on the internet where the former World champion will give the head booker advice on removing wine stains from his carpet. 2.) It's the only e-wrestling federation that is for the kids. keep 'em coming...

Tennessee: BAL/BUF/DET/JAX/MIN/NE/NO/PIT/PHI/ATL/AZ/CLE/MIA/SD/KC/DAL/17

THE PRE MATCH The camera cuts to the back to show HeldDOWN GM Calvin Szechstein, on his cell phone in his office. There is a knock on the door, and Calvin, looking bothered, speaks to his cell. CALVIN Look, August, I'll call you right back, I know we can work something out... yeah, thanks for hanging up on me, asshole. Calvin looks at the door. CALVIN Come in! Thunderkid and Reject enter the commissioner's office to boos from the crowd. CALVIN What can I help you boys with? REJECT Look, Calvin, let's cut right to the chase. Forget what happened at AngleSlam, that was a fluke! I mean, how long had it been since we competed on such a high stage like that? THUNDERKID The bottom line is that we're one of the greatest tag teams in OAOAST history, and we want to know why we weren't included in last week's TLC match? Calvin gets out of his seat and walks around his office. CALVIN And here [b]I[/b] was, assuming that one of the requirements for being one of the greatest tag teams in OAOAST history, as you like to call yourselves, was to have held the OAOAST tag team titles at some point, something you two have never achieved. The crowd cheers. THUNDERKID Well, how many shots did we get at those titles in the past? REJECT Besides, you put Zack and Leon in the match! They're not even a real team! CALVIN ...well, they kinda won, didn't they? And, I mean, now they're the OAOAST tag team champions, something that... oh, wait, [b]you[/b] boys have never done. The crowd cheers again, and Calvin grins, nodding to the camera. THUNDERKID Well, that's all going to change soon. You see, we've come in here to ask for a shot at the tag team titles at Dirty Deeds, Thunderkid and Reject, challenging Zack Malibu and Leon Rodez. The crowd cheers again, the enthusiastic bastards. CALVIN Well, I'll tell you what. Tonight, I'm going to book the two of you in a match against the former tag team champions, the Sk8er Boiz. If you guys impress me out there tonight, you can have your match at the PPV. THUNDERKID Sounds like a deal. REJECT I assure you, Calvin, you won't be disappointed. TK and Reject leave the office. --- THE POST MATCH Thunderkid and Reject are seen talking in their locker room, when HeldDOWN GM Calvin Szechstein walks in with a smile on his face. REJECT So what about it? Do we got our match now? CALVIN See, boys, THAT was excellent. Not only am I going to give you guys your match... but we're going to make history. At Dirty Deeds, for the OAOAST World tag team titles, it's going to be Zack Malibu and Leon Rodez against Thunderkid and Reject... inside of a 15-foot high steel cage! The crowd goes crazy as TK and Reject get huge grins on their faces. THUNDERKID Thanks a lot Calvin. You won't regret it.

... we had Z doing them, but if you guys want to include your own in your matches that's fine, I'll edit them in/out when I'm posting the show.

Alf reminds me. If you want to use me in a segment, let me either know so I can write it, or read it after you write it so I can tweak it. Tweener greedy bastard Calvin is ratings, so using him would be... also, ratings.

Who's the beautiful, beautiful person who gave me a pity-nomination for the McWeed trophy? Title shot, next week.

I did not like my promo this week, mostly because 'major announcement' promos have a tendency to be boring. I get the feeling that Calvin, as a character, would be more fun with a luscious female assistant, but if anybody has other suggestions I'd be delighted.

The show opens with a shot of Calvin Szechstein's office, where he casualy looks up the screen, a smile on his face. CALVIN Why, hello there. A small but noticeable portion of the crowd gives it up for Calvin, and Calvin points in their general direction before continuing. CALVIN I know that many of you will be disappointed that we're not opening with our typical fireworks show tonight, but as the General Manager I have decided that opening every heldDown with the exact same fireworks show was getting a bit... well, a bit redundant. However, I have hit upon a new idea. Given the OAOAST's close partnership with several record companies, we will be bringing in a different artist every week to open the show with a song of their choosing. We call this, "Calvin Szechstein's Fall Concert Series", and I hope you enjoy it. Calvin smiles as the crowd pops, but as the noise dies down he continues speaking. CALVIN Now, I didn't get here early tonight just to address that. You see, recently heldDown has become rather... stale. All of the big matches appear on pay-per-view, and to our fans who pay good money for heldDown tickets, it's just fair. So next week, Calvin Szechstein and EIGHT OAOAST Superstars are going to give back to our loyal heldDown viewership! The crowd pops again, being the lovable sheep that they are. CALVIN Next week, it will be the Sk8er Boiz... Mild pop. CALVIN The Global Party Exchange... Mild jeers. CALVIN Dan Black and Tony Brannigan, Black T, and -- and this is a stroke of genius -- Leon Rodez and Zack Malibu! Cheers! CALVIN And in the ring they will be joined by some tables, some ladders, and some chairs... and the OAOAST TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIPS! And the pop is DEAFENING. CALVIN Next week, Calvin Szechstein, Home Depot, and the OAOAST present TLC! But for right now, stand up and give it up for Mike Jones and the Ying Yang Twins, here to sing our national anthem! Mike Jones and the Ying Yang Twins come out and rock out "Badd", the logo flashes across the screen, and heldDown is underway!

Holy crap, the SHOOT PROJECT still exists? I remember I was DOJO Champion and Tag Champion there. My name was Renegade. Man, those were some GREAT e-fedding days. I had a whole history in efedding, but I lost it. THE BEST efedding I did was in SHOOT PROJECT. I noticed the names of the titles have changed, and the scenery. Man, I have been having that efedding bug trying to bite, and I might rejoin SHOOT Project. I remember one of my tag partners was named Krazie. I remember some of the upper card talent, like Cronos Diamante, Eric Wolfson, and RAVAGE. <{POST_SNAPBACK}> not to be like a whore or anything, but these boards have one of the best and most unique e-feds out there. SWF. check us out...

The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents... SWF STORM, SEPTEMBER 2ND, 2005, LIVE FROM THE PARKING LOT OF THE CONSECO FIELDHOUSE IN INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA! (8:00 pm EST, 5:00 pm PST, check local listings. card subject to change.) Promos and marked matches are due in by 10:00 PM EST to chirs3 MAIN EVENT SWF TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIPS Wild and Dangerous (Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous, SWF Tag Team Champions) v. Beauty and the Beast (Zyon and "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins) -> When did we hire Stephen Joseph, again? Well, the Lockdown commissioner (or so he claims...) has bared all to Spike Jenkins, and has also extended his power to Storm, making a standard-rules tag match between the dysfunctional current champs, Wild and Dangerous, and Jenkins and his partner, Zyon. Fresh off of losing the World Heavyweight Championship to Danny Williams, Johnny cannot possibly be too happy, but who will he channel his aggression at: his opponents, or his partner? Rules: Standard tag affair. Word Limit: 6000 Marker: Chuck Woolery SWF HARDCORE CHAMPIONSHIP SLAMMIN' IN THE RAIN! Marcus Ward (SWF Hardcore Champion) v. Bruce Blank -> Blank impressed on Smarkdown, and CC is rewarding him with a chance at Hardcore glory on tonight's show! But if the forecast is right, things are going to get a little wet... Rules: Boys, a thunderstorm is going to be hitting Indianapolis immediately before your match begins. It will be clearing up immediately after your match ends. Feel free to write said thunderstorm in any way possible. Falls count anywhere, no disqualifications, win by pinfall or submission. Word Limit: 5000 Marker: The Superstar HARDCORE MATCH "Urban Legend" Todd Cortez v. JJ Johnson -> So Landon Maddix, JJ Johnson, and Jay Hawke are the next big thing in the SWF, you say? That's dynamite for them, and bad news for Todd Cortez, who now has not one but three men as his sworn enemy. Landon's sending JJ Johnson after Cortez on Storm, and with no rules, this one could get nasty. Rules: None. Word Limit: 5000 Marker: janusd TWO-ON-TWO MATCH TKO v. Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix and "The Dean Of Professional Wrestling" Jay Hawke -> While JJJ is busy with the Urban Legend, the other two-thirds of Meat Festival 2005 will be taking on EVIL TAG SENSATION TKO. Will the newcomers score another impressive victory, or will two of the best in the SWF show TKO who's really the boss? Rules: None. Word Limit: 5000 Marker: chirs3 Also Appearing: Danny Williams won the World Heavyweight Title on Smarkdown. On Storm, there's going to be a long line of people looking to face him at Genesis. Who will they be? Also, word has been going around that Jay Hawke has choice words for Zyon, and vice versa. In the words of my man Diddy, anything can happen... on STORM!

Updated version of the card is up. Since I'm too lazy to go back and edit again, TKO, Landon, Hawke, your match is under tornado tag rules. If you think I accidently messed your shit up, PM me and I'll get back to you when I get back from work tonight.

... but wait, there's more. *KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!* "Who is it!?!" Outside of Room 130, Benjamin Hardy stands with microphone in hand, trusty Cameraman Gus right by his side, ready to get the BIG SCOOP~! "It's Benjamin Hardy for the SWF, we wanted to get a word with you Landon." "I'm busy. Get lost." "Landon, we're here to find out who you've got in that room with you. And unless they're good at jumping out of high buildings without injuring themselves, we're going to find out sooner or later. So you might as well let us in." An audible groan comes from the other side of the Room 130 door, which abruptly opens slightly as Landon Maddix pokes his head through the gap. Noticing Hardy, with camera, Maddix again groans, sliding carefully through the ajar door, making sure the camera can't get a good shot of the inside. "Well, well, aren't we the interpid reporter." sneers Maddix. "Who sent you here then?" "Mr Flesher did. He told us not to leave until we got the scoop. He sounded pretty adamant about it." "Flesher." The very name brings a frown to Landon's face. "So, you're not going to leave until you've found out who's behind the door, right?" Maddix muses things over, before slowly smiling. He's got nothing to hide anymore. The deal is done. The situation has been sorted. There's no secrets needing to be kept now, he realises, lightening up as he grabs his ole' buddy Benny boy around the shoulder, a little too tightly for Hardy's comfort. "Well, Ben...'Mr Flesher'...in that case, I want you to meet a couple of close friends of mine." Reaching behind him, Maddix pushes the door open, the camera hurriedly moving to get a good inside shot of the room... ...and, to the figure sat on the bed. The SWF International Champion himself, Jay Hawke! Hawke looks up and seems a little surprised to be on camera, but shrugs it off, looking off to his left and smiling to someone out of shot. Quickly, Gus wheels the camera around to where Hawke is looking, revealing another man, standing with arms folded and glaring through the open door frame. Former SWF Hardcore Champion, JJ Johnson! After getting a good shot of the two, Gus wheels back around, to reveal Maddix beaming from ear to ear. "What the hell are these two doing here?" Hardy finally chimes, confused. "Oh, well, I was feeling a little down, so I called up some old friends. How about you two guys join us. We're going to put our hair up in curlers, eat some Haagan Daaz and we'll watch Bridget Jones' Diary, parts 1 and 2. It'll be a scream." Maddix smiles, clearly pushing his sarcasm a little too far as Hardy rolls his eyes. "What do you THINK they're doing here!?!" "I have no idea. I mean, Jay Hawke and you fought over the International Title...JJ was in Revolution Zero. This makes no sense." "It makes PERFECT sense." smiles Maddix, as he 'invites' (read: drags) Hardy into the hotel room. "You see, there's an old saying Ben and it goes...Desperate times call for desperate measures. And, much as I hate to admit it, these are desperate times for Landon Maddix. I can speak until I'm blue in the face and still, people won't listen to what I've got to say. Respect is still lacking, when it comes to Landon Maddix. And I've realised that one man alone isn't going to change the opinions of the world. Which is why, I've decided to make some offers, call some favours and ask for some trust. See, what you have here...on first inspection, could be three men who really don't like each other all that much, for various reasons. But look closely. And what you have...is the perfect trio. The perfect team. What you're looking at, at the risk of getting sued by about 1/3 of the wrestling business...is the Future!" A smile forms on the face of Jay Hawke, JJJ still looking emotionless as he glares forward. "The Gold Standard Of Professional Wrestling, if you will. What you have are three men here, with not a whole lot in common in terms of personality. But, professionally, three men with drive. With desire. With pure ambition flowing through their veins. So, what I have done is I have brought myself, Jay Hawke and JJ Johnson together and I have shown them indisputable facts. Together, we are the total package. My weaknesses are compensated for by Jay Hawke's strengths. Jay's weaknesses are complimented by JJ's strengths. And JJ's weakness are complimented by MY strengths. As a trio, there is no style of wrestling we have not perfected...and no man, or men, in the SWF that can stop us." Stepping forward, Maddix stands beside JJ Johnson. "Right here, you have JJ Johnson. Former Hardcore Champion and one of the toughest men going in the SWF. This man can fight you on the streets, fight you in the Octagon, fight you in the wrestling ring...wherever there's a fight, JJ will be there to fight it. He's 'The Enforcer' of our team, if you will. Anyone who thinks they can intimidate little ol' me is in for a sudden rude awakening, because now, if you mess with me, THIS is what you can expect in your future!" growls Maddix, as Johnson growls beside him, holding up his fists. "A former Hardcore Champion, as tough as they come, the backbone of the trio. And sure, he doesn't talk much...infact, he hardly talks at all. But they say 'a picture is worth a thousand words'...and JJ Johnson is tough enough, mean enough and downright bad enough to turn anyone in the SWF into a disfigured mess that Picasso himself would be proud of!" As JJJ smiles at his endorsement, Maddix walks around the side of the hotel bed, next to Jay Hawke, who quickly tilts the International Title in his lap up to be better displayed to the camera. "Now, Jay Hawke. The man I knew I had to have on my team, because he is quite simply technical wrestling personified! The Dean Of Professional Wrestling. This man was good enough to beat me for the belt he holds...and if that isn't endorsement enough, I don't know what is. What Jay brings to the table is not just the technical ability. Not just the mat wrestling, the submission wrestling. What Jay Hawke brings to the table is a pure...wrestling...brain. He's a student of the game. Jay will stretch you in knots and then untie you, just for the fun of tying you up some more. The criticism has always been that I couldn't wrestle my way out of a paper bag. Now, I don't need to. Because I can just step aside and let Jay Hawke crumple you up and toss you into the trash for me." Hawke smiles too, as Maddix pats his new-found buddy on the back. "And then, there's little ol'me." he smirks. "A man who has done everything there is to do in this business. There isn't an accolade worth having that hasn't been mine in my career. SJL Television Champion. SJL European Champion. SJL World Heavyweight Champion. SWF Tag Team Champion. SWF USJL Champion, two times. SWF ICTV Champion, THREE times. SWF International Champion. Cold Front Classic Winner. 2005 Clusterfuck Winner. And former SWF Heavyweight Champion of the WORLD! I may only be 21 years old, but I have accomplished as much as anyone in this business and more than the majority. But I've also got experience of being a team player. I've led...and I've been led. The House Of Todd dominated the SJL, with me doing Todd Royal's bidding. The Unnamed were top of the SWF, with me in the ranks. Chris Card Enterprises? That was all me! And with me at the helm, Martial Law managed to be a success, despite the deadwood carried on my back for so, so many months. But none of those groups...not one...has the potential that this group of people before you has." It's still smiles all round, as Maddix again wraps an arm around Benjamin. "Ben...take a good look around you. Because you are looking at future in the making. This is an historic moment. The beginning of a new era. The beginning of something big. I've sat back in the shadows for far too long. It's time to stand up and rise back to the top of the mountain again. It's time for Landon Maddix to get back on top. It's time for Jay Hawke to start getting the plaudits he deserves. It's time for JJ Johnson to be recognised. And together, we are going to change the face of the SWF. You think The Midnight Carnival were dominant? You think Revolution Zero had the power? YOU AIN'T SEEN NOTHING YET!!" Hawke applauds away, JJ simply nodding his head, as Maddix places a hand on each of Benjamin's shoulders, turning him slowly to face the door.

“Man it’s been one hell of a Smarkdown” Pete say excited. “We’ve not had a match yet Pete” King shoots back at him “It’s been tremendous excitement though hasn’t it?” is the only reply he gets. “You hype whore” King says, some days his commentator partner just goes off the deep end, King has a feeling this is one of those days. Longdogger Pete shuffles through his papers trying to find something in vain “Next up we have the SWF debut of Bruce Blank, but I’ll be damned if I can find any information on him other than his stats” “What” King quipped “You gotta know what college he played football for or something, the fans want this kind of useless information” he says breaking the “sarcasm meter” in every home that’s tuned in to the show. “I got nothing” Pete had to admit. King was quick on the uptake and shot back at him with “So he’s a Blank slate huh?” “Oh very funny” – King thought so, Pete silently disagrees with him as Lynyrd Skynyrd’s genius begins to pour out through the P.A. system. ”Well everytime that I come home nobody wants to let me be” ”It seems that all the friends I got just got to come interrogate me” The curtains are pulled to the side to reveal Bruce Blank standing there, wearing a beat up cowboy hat, black jeans & snakeskin cowboy boots and a black tanktop that says “Wine ‘em, Dine ‘em 69 ‘em” King perks up when he reads the shirt “Hey that’s my philosophy, except that I usually don’t have to wine ‘em” Pete is quick on the uptake and continues the thought “Yeah and you sure never dine ‘em” ”Well, I appreciate your feelings and I don’t want to pass you by” ”But I don’t ask you about your business, don’t ask me about mine” “Yeah but I sure do sixtyn-“ “MAN LOOK AT HIS ARMS!!” Pete obviously wanted to cut King off, although he did have a point about the massive arms of Bruce Blank as well, they were… well… massive ” Well it’s true I love the money and I love my brand new car I like drinkin’ the best of whiskey and playing in a honky tonk bar” Funyon goes into his introductory spiel, you know the one blah, blah blah 295 pounds, blah, blah from Mobile Alabama blah, blah Bruce Blank – we’ve already heard it before. Bruce enters the ring, puts his cowboy hat on the ringposst and then just leans back into the corner waiting for his opponent. ” But when I come off the road, well I just got to have my time ’cause I got to find a break in this action, else I’m gonna lose my mind” Funyon puts the microphone to his mouth once more to introduce Bruce’s opponent in his debut match. ” The preacher man says it’s the end of time And the Mississippi River she’s a goin’ dry” The crowd boos as they actually know this guy and they know he’s a no-good son of a bitch, yes it’s Martin “Big Country” Hunt – As Funyon so readily tells us all. Big Country walks out as Hank Williams Jr plays, Big Country tells people they’re number one by showing them one sole solitary finger on the way to the ring. ”The interest is up and the Stock Markets down And you only get mugged If you go down town” Martin Hunt pulls out a bottle of Southern Comfort from his jacket and then points to Bruce indicating that he’s gonna have a victory drink once he’s taken care of business tonight. “It may have been a smart move for Martin not to drink until after the match” Pete points out “Last time he lost to the Crimson Skull because he got a little too… shall we say excited” “And drunk” King adds “Well yeah that too” Bruce doe not seem very impressed as he just leans back in the corner, relaxing, pacing himself not moving an inch. That is until Martin goes to put the bottle in his corner, then Bruce Blank jumps into action and clubbers Martin Hunt over the back with a double axe handle that sends the much smaller guy to the mat. *DING*DING*DING* Bruce goes from double axe handle blows to stomping away on the back of Martin Hunt as he’s driven down to the canvas just moments after the opening bell. “Bruce isn’t very subtle is he” Pete asks, rhetorically. “He doesn’t have to be, steamrollers usually aren’t” King replies not giving a rats ass about rhetoric. Martin is in the corner covering his head to shield it from the repeated blows from Bruce. The referee gets in between Bruce and Big Country making Bruce reluctantly back off. Martin’s reprieve only lasts about 7 seconds, enough time to make it back to his feet only to be greeted by a clothesline into the corner. “Man what impact” King said impressed. Bruce grabbs Big Country’s right hand and then whips him across the ring back first into the turnbuckles in the opposite corner. Bruce gets a head of steam and goes for a second running clothesline to Big Country but instead ends up eating the turnbuckles. “Hunt stumbled out of the way, excellent counter” you could tell Pete was trying to build the excitement of the match, King wasn’t buying it though “A counter? He stumbled!!” But he still gets a cover on Bruce ONE At one Bruce Blank kicks out, nay he powers out of the move by throwing the 220 pound Martin Hunt off him with force. Then he gets to his feet just in time to be hit by a running knee to the side of the head. It doesn’t knock him down but it does knock him to his knees, Big Country goes for a second running knee the impact of which sends Bruce into the corner. “Big Country is having a blast tonight!” Hunt runs to the corner and starts to nail Bruce Blank with a series of punches in the corner. After about 5 or 6 Bruce uses his massive power to just shove Martin Hunt off him and then get from his knees to his feet. Big Country isn’t one to give up as he rushes the much bigger man in the corner once more jumping up on the second rope and starts to pound away on him “Take that you trailer park trash!!” he screams at Bruce, obviously displeased with having to fight a guy who’s SOOOOO much lower than him on the scale of human evolution. Bruce doesn’t take too kindly to it as he once again reaches up, puts his hand around Big Country’s throat and just shoves back sending the Frat boy flying. Bruce is on top of Big Country pretty quickly but instead of taking the advantage he gets his jeans pulled by the alert Hunt showing his great ring presence. “That cheating bastard!! He pulled Bruce into the ropes throat first” Pete said outraged at the low down tactics of Big County, King liked it but didn’t feel the need to point it out. After all he didn’t have to comment on EVERYTHING! Martin Hunt sizes Bruce up from behind as the bigger man slowly staggers back to his feet, then Big Country runs up to him, leaps on Bruce’s back and locks in the sleeper hold “BLACK-OUT!!” Pete is caught by surprise that Hunt is going for his finisher already “It’s a smart follow up to the throat damage he just inflicted “King points out, it was a good rulebreaking tactic and as such he naturally approves. Martin Hunt rides on Bruce’s back as the big man is locked in a sleeper. For a moment he tries to reach for the ropes but then his arms stop flailing and he seems to be nearing an unconscious state “Is this it for Bruce Blank? Defeated in his debut match??” But Pete speaks too soon, the big man wasn’t going for a rope break at all, he was positioning himself to push back with all his might and drive Martin Hunt into the corner. Big Country still manages to hold onto the sleeper hold but ends up paying for it big time as Bruce falls backwards ending up crashing to the mat Hunt first with all of his massive girth on top of Big Country “Someone bring him a spatula” King quipped as Bruce Blank gets off his now dazed opponent. “Bruce’s neck was just too massive and bull like for Hunt to get the move on correct” Pete explains to the 5 people at home that didn’t already know this. Bruce shakes his head, apparently he’s had enough as he picks up Big Country and then powers him up over his head military press style. He stands there for a moment grinning as he gives the much smaller man 10 pumps in mid air King was impressed, very impressed “Look at that raw power” Then Bruce walks towards the ropes and casually just drops Martin Hunt throat first on the top rope. The fans don’t respond well to such a dickish move and the boos grow louder as Bruce grabs Big Country by the hair and drags the frat boy’s face across the top rope. BOOOOOO!! Pete is disgusted by this and doesn’t hesitate to tell everyone “I’m disgusted by this” Bruce nails Big Country with a fast and stiff clothesline that has enough impact to spin the much smaller man 360 in the air before he lands on his face. Bruce is quick to drag Martin Hunt back to his feet and then throws him into the corner. “Big Bruce is really taking him apart” Pete says as Bruce lays the back elbows in on Hunt in the ring. “Well look at him, he looks like the kind of guy that’d kick your ass rather than shake your hand” King replies “That could be a problem on Family Friendly Lockdown” is all Pete can say to that. Bruce then picks up Big Country in a body slam position and hangs him up to dry in the corner, upside down trapping a leg under the turnbuckle. The boos grow louder as Bruce lays in the kicks and punches on the now trapped Martin Hunt. “Why is he leaving the ring?” Pete is confused about why Bruce has abandoned his match and jumped to the floor. “He’s gotta pe? What do I know I ain’t his daddy” is all King could say – and he’s right, he’s not Bruce Blank’s daddy, at least not that he knows off. Bruce grabs a microphone and then gets up on the apron apparently to address the vocal crowd. “Would you PLEASE for the love of God shut the hell up!!” BOOOOOOOO “I mean I’m trying to work here! I don’t come down to where you work and shout and boo you while you suck dick! BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! “WHOA!!” Pete looked a big surprised by the comment, then quickly tried to smooth things over with sponsors and anyone who’s already got the phone in hand ready to complain “Dick of course being short for Richard” was his feeble attempt at covering up. “He’s got a point Pete” King interceded, he was beginning to like Bruce’s style. Bruce is booed even louder as he starts to curse the fans out off microphone; a quick thinker backstage had cut the sound to it three and a half second after “dick”. Bruce’s distraction from the crowd has allowed Big Country to free himself and he’s quick to take advantage of the situation by drop kicking Bruce off the apron to the floor. “He had that coming” is all Pete can say, the viewers at home miss out on King rolling his eyes at that. Hunt grabs the cowboy hat from the corner, then he puts it on and starts to do a mocking Two Step in the ring thinking he’s got the match in the bag. Bruce Blank is not pleased at all as he sees the mockery in the ring. He quickly slides back in behind Hunt and then takes him down by clipping Big Country’s leg from behind “Come on Pete I know you’re dying to make a football penalty joke here” King says, knowing his partner too well Pete says nothing as King just stole his line… damn him. Bruce pulls Martin up to a seated position, then he grabs the hair with his left hand and starts to send a series of clubbing right handed blows down over Big Countrys’ neck and chest, the last one knocking Hunt back down. Bruce is on him quickly, blatantly choking him out in front of the referee. “Let go of the hold!! One!! Two!! Three!! Four!! At four Bruce lets go, then he turns towards the referee while still on his knees and starts to argue with him about interpretations of the rules. Bruce does not seem to think that a choke should be illegal while the referee tries to point out that he is wrong “Oh look at that bastard!” Pete says pissed off, “What? I don’t see anything wrong” “You don’t see him with his boot across Hunt’s throat?” Pete screams as he points towards the boot that is indeed over Big Country’s throat at the moment. “Does the referee see it” is all King says “If not, then it’s not illegal” At first the referee does not see the chokehold as Bruce’s massive body is blocking the view during their argument and by the time he moves around the big man Bruce shifts his foot and is no longer doing anything illegal. Bruce pulls Big Country to his feet, Irish whips him into the ropes On the return he catches him and throws him up in the air in a back drop motion, but instead of flipping Big Country over he just lets him drop face first, landing a thunderous fist to the gut right before Martin Hunt hits the ground. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! The crowd boos the big man on as he arrogantly pushes Martin Hunt around with his boot, flipping him over onto his back before dropping a fist on Hunt’s forehead. A leg drop quickly follows the fist and then an elbow drop right to the neck of Martin Hunt. Bruce drags Hunt back to his feet by the hair and then sets him up in a suplex position. “Look at the arrogance, he’s just holding Martin Hunt upside down in that stalled suplex position” “You timing this Pete? It’s been a good 20 seconds or so” Bruce decides that Martin Hunt has had enough punishment and turns the stalled suplex into a sit out power bomb “THE BLANK BOMB!!” Pete shouts ”THE FUCKING BOMB!!” King shouts thinking that the name had been censored before he the sheet with move names. ONE!! TWO!! THREE!!! “Bruce Blank gets a decisive victory in his first match!! After a bit of early trouble he put him away pretty easy” Bruce gets to his feet but pushes the referee away when he tries to raise Bruce’s arm in victory. Bruce grabs the cowboy hat off the canvas, dusts it off before putting it on. Then he sees the bottle of Southern Comfort in the corner. “I think Hunt may go home sober tonight Pete” Bruce figures that he’s earned a little drink so he cracks the bottle open, puts one foot on Martin Hunt’s chest just to rub it in and then begins to drink from the bottle as the crowd boos him. “Hey Bruce don’t Bogart the whole thing” King says smacking his lips, he could do with a bit of Southern right now “Too late” Pete says Bruce finishes off the entire bottle in one long gulps, then he burps loudly before dropping the empty bottle on Big Country’s chest, just a little souvenir to remember Bruce Blank by. The big man leaves the ring and starts to exit the arena, not walking totally straight “Man he’s gonna be so sick in the morning” Pete says “Yeah but he’ll have fun tonight!” is all King can say picturing just how drunk a guy can get after a whole bottle of Southern Comfort.

The World Title is on the line and there’s not an any empty seat in the house or empty anything for that matter, truth be told you probably couldn’t find a spot on the floor. There’s so many people that one has to wander if the whole city shut down for tonight’s very special event. Much like SWF fans around the world, many in Cleveland have been impatiently anticipating tonight’s main event. It’s no secret that the seemingly invincible Danny Williams has been on a demolition spree since returning, picking up more fans than he’s ever had before, quickly becoming the most popular and beloved athlete in the federation. And now that he has the opportunity to cement himself as the top guy in the company and capture the richest prize in the sport for a record setting forth straight time, you better believe all eyes are on the ring.. The atmosphere is unmeasurable as the classy Fuynon takes center stage, when you see a guy this well dressed you know this is the place to be. Moving with so much esteem that the simple action of holding a microphone to his mouth comes off snobbish, Funyon delivers his lines with booming elegance. “Ladies and Gentleman, it is now time for the Main Event of the evening.” Just looking at a crowd this size is impressive, hearing a crowd this size erupting as one is surreal. Unable to deliver his lines, Funyon patiently waits for the things to settle down. Several moments pass before Funyon gives up and shouts over the rumbling crowd noise. “The following contest is for the SWF World Heavyweight Championship. Introducing first, the challenger..” Knowing who that this, the fans somehow raise the volume to a whole other level. The sonic bombardment is so extreme that it threatens to shake the building apart like an earthquake. The hyper guitar work of Edguy kicks in but not even power metal amplified to the eleventh power can drown out the screaming masses. Funyon announces the challenger’s name but it’s lost in the screams. With only his fans howls to announce him, Williams comes charging out of the locker room. Bouncing up and down with raw energy, the fired up challenger jogs down the aisle with unbridled enthusiasm. Not since his return has Williams looked so happy to be back. He can’t wait to get this thing started, this is the reason he returned to action after all, to reclaim the pride he lost last year and become the dominant champion he’s always dreamed of being. Sliding into the ring, Williams hyper actively runs the ropes, eagerly warming up for the biggest match since his return. King: I bet Williams was a dodge ball Champion in middle school. Pete: I would like to point out that Williams has recently signed up to face Magnifico on next week’s Storm regardless of the outcome of this match. Right now, he’s just doing what he said he would and pursue his dream first. King: Well, Mr. Williams is in for a rude awakening tonight. At Ground Zero, the Barracuda gave one of the most heroic and valiant performances in wrestling history, reaching the apex of his career and capturing the SWF World Title. Taking it from him won’t be easy, I expect he’ll defend the title he fought so hard to obtain with the same passion. On that cue, a sensual female voice whispers the name of the super spy who happens to be the new World Champion. “Johnny Dangerous...” Theatrical strobe lights flash, fog rises, and the fans become violent. Much more audible now, Funyon carries on the introductions. “And his opponent, weighing in at 217 pounds, hailing from Las Vegas, Neveda, he is the SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION......JOHNNY DANGEROUSSSsssssssssssss!!!! Taking the stage, the Neo look alike raises his newly won title over his head for all to see. Not exactly fond of how he won the title, the Cleveland fans respond with a barrage of jeers and slurs. Ground Zero may already be in the history books but the memory of Johnny’s betrayal continues to linger in the fan’s thoughts. Feeling betrayed himself, Dangerous exchanges words with the front roll fans as he makes his way down the aisle. He reminds the narrow minded bastards in the stands that they simply don’t understand his point of his view, titles aren’t won with kisses and hugs. Pete: Heroic and valiant? The man tossed aside every value and morale he ever had, turning his back on his fans in selfish pursuit of glory. King: He did whatever it took to win, Pete! So what if the fans don’t like him anymore, haven’t you been listening to Magnifico? Johnny Dangerous is a winner now, that’s what matters! Pete: There’s more to wrestling than winning. The words: honor, dignity, and prestige come to my mind. King: Your using that crap as a cop out to explain why you never won the title. If you acutally held the damn thing, you’d know that the King’s Road isn’t for baby kissing good doers. Both men are in the ring and electricity is in the air. Not eager to part with his precious trophy, Dangerous resists handing over the title until the last possible moment. Williams eyes briefly leave his opponent to admire the sparkle of the passing gold, it’s been too long. Letting the wrestlers no that he means business, Soapdish goes over the rules with both men, taking a little more time with Dangerous. Satisfied, Soapdish delays the festivities no more and signals to the bell keeper! Ding! Ding! Ding! Firmly behind the challenger, the fans energetically chant “Let’s Go Danny” from the get go. Williams acknowledges the faithful with a quick smile but after that he’s all business. Slightly irritated by the incredibly vocal one sided support, a scowling Dangerous gives the fans a quick scan. It wasn’t long ago that they were chanting his name and now just one week later they hate his guts, it’s enough to make one sick. Wanting nothing more than to piss on the fan’s parade, Dangerous anxiously meets his hulking challenger in the center of the ring. They lock up in a grapple but the stronger Williams easily gains the upper hand with a smothering front facelock. This isn’t a surprise what does come as a surprise is when Williams suavely rolls back to the canvas, wrapping the unsuspecting Dangerous up with a sudden small package! Believing that the match could already be over, the shocked fans leap out of their chairs, hopefully counting along with the equally stunned official! “One!” “Two!” Fighting for his lively hood, Dangerous wiggles free at the last second! Off balance and ill prepared, Dangerous foolishly rushes to his feet. Blam! A powerful shoulder block sends the secret agent back to the canvas in bruising fashion! Licking his lips with anticipation, Williams dives on top of Dangerous, catching him by surprise with another early pin attempt. . “One!” “Two!” Frantically squirming, Dangerous wiggles out from underneath Williams. In hopes of gaining the upper hand, Dangerous races Williams to his feet but the challenger has to good of a head start. Blam! A second shoulder block crushes the lean Dangerous into roadkill! Once more, the champion finds himself the victim of an over anxious pin attempt. “One!” Expecting it this time, Dangerous escapes much quicker. Not making the same mistake three times in a roll, the Champion bails to the outside in a blur. Williams makes chase but Dangerous is already out of his reach. Staying in the ring, Williams flexes his broad shoulders before motioning his hands to his belt line, promising the fans victory. The crowd eats it up by the spoonful. Pete: Williams is coming out very aggressive tonight, trying more pin attempts in a couple of seconds than he did in his entire match with Landon Maddix. King: He tired to catch the Champ off guard but Dangerous didn’t get the title by being stupid. Pete: He got it by betraying his partner, his fans, and values. King: Sometimes you need to make a few sacrifices for the greater good. Pete: Greater good? More like personal glory. Holding his aching head, Dangerous calmly paces around on the outside. Leaning over the railing, some of the more daring fans boldly hurl insults in his face. Upon flipping them off, Dangerous starts thinking strategy. Grappling with the bigger vet was stupid, he won’t make the same mistake twice, he’s got to stick to what he knows. He’s a secret agent, in expert in hand to hand combat, it’s time he started acting like one. Vaulting over the top rope like a ninja, Dangerous busts out some sort of cheesy martial arts pose he probably saw in a movie as opposed to actually learning from a master. Getting in a kung fu stance, Dangerous points a challenging finger at Williams. The message is clear, he wants to face Williams in fist to cuffs. Normally small guys run from him, this one wants to match strikes. Impressed, Williams looks to the fans, who pound their feet in anticipation for the rumble to come. Pleased with the reaction, Williams accepts the challenge and raises his hands in a guard. King: Williams doesn’t know what he’s getting into, Johnny Dangerous is a very dangerous man. As a secret agent, he’s mastered karate, judo, kick boxing... Pete: Martial arts training or not, Williams is still one of the best strikers in the history of the fed and stepping on his turf may not be the best of ideas. Dancing around like he’s the second coming of Ali, Dangerous evades the lurking Williams, who is patiently stalking him. Using some clever low key foot work to counter his opponent’s quickness, Williams out maneuvers Dangerous and corners him. Williams lunges forward for one of his trademark forearms but the slippery champion evades him with a duck. Quick to counter, Dangerous unloads a lighting quick flurry of back fists to Williams’ jaw and neck! A hard Uraken caps off the combo but when the dust settles Williams remains unmoved. Before Dangerous can react the secret agent finds himself on the receiving end of a cringe inducing right, left, right elbow combo! A closing reverse elbow floors the teetering Dangerous, earning Williams a monstrous pop! Relaxing his guard, Williams raises a triumphant fist before getting back in character. Pete: It looks like hand to hand combat isn’t the best approach for Dangerous. King: I expected that, Danny’s the elbow guy but we’ll see what happens when the karate kicks come into play. Slamming his fist into the canvas, an embarrassed Dangerous returns to his feet with a flashy kip up. Squatting low, Dangerous stretches his legs from side to side, preparing them for the ass kicking he’s about to deliver. Not intimidated, Williams stoically resumes his fighting stance. Turning cautious circles around each other, the two strikers come together in the center of the ring for another showdown. Liking to keep things close, Williams lunges inside only to get greeted by a wild spin kick that comes within inches of his face. Danny’s luck runs out after that. Smoothly spinning on his planted foot, Dangerous swoops back around in the opposite direction, knocking the statuesque challenger on his ass with a sweep kick! Not wanting to get caught on his back, the muscle bound challenger athletically kips up. Ready and waiting, Dangerous ambushes his rising target with a skull cracking Enzugiri! Grabbing the back of his head, Williams aimlessly swaggers about in a punch drunk haze. Taking aim, Dangerous launches his signature alliance breaking Johnny Kick at the staggered challenger’s chin! But it’s caught! A counter mule kick catches Johnny on the BUTT of his chin, nearly knocking him out of his boots! Amused by the irony, the fans celebrate while Dangerous retreats to the floor. Pete: Well, Dangerous faired a little better with his kicks but ultimately he’s still no match for the bigger, stronger Williams. King: Eh, you can’t fault the guy for trying. If I was in boots, I would have done low blowed Williams twice by now. Holding his aching jaw, Dangerous leans against the apron, showing no interest in entering it. Williams tries to play by the rules but as Soapdish draws closer to the magic number, he starts to become worried. Not wanting the match to end by a count out, Williams leans over the ropes and reaches down with the intent of pulling Dangerous back inside. Suddenly springing to life, Dangerous hooks the surprised Williams by the legs and drags him under the ropes. King: Ha, he was playing possum! That stupid muscle head always falls for that one. Racking Danny’s eyes before he can figure out what’s going on, Dangerous slams his face into the apron and whips him into the guardrail! But Danny rebounds back in an instant, dropping Dangerous with a hard running elbow! Pete: What determination from the challenger, not even Dangerous’ recently acquired dirty tactics can stop him! Muscling Dangerous back inside, Williams gets him in a corner and turns loose the elbows! The fans roar with approval as Williams aggressively hammers Dangerous into oblivion. After pounding Dangerous senseless, Williams sends him into the cross corner with a strong Irish whip! Clutching his aching back, Dangerous aimlessly wobbles out of the corner, only to walk straight into a ring shaking Powerslam! One! Two! NO! To Williams and the thousands in attendance disappointment, Dangerous squeezes a shoulder up. Anxious to end the match and get his gold fix, Williams winds up his arm, arousing the interest of the fans. Dragging the ailing Dangerous to his feet, Williams fires him into the ropes! Expecting Dangerous to spring back into his waiting hands, Williams swings out his massive arm for the Axe Bomber! But the secret agent clings to the ropes, hits the deck and cowardly bails! This doesn’t got over to well with the crowd, who believed they were just seconds away from seeing a new Champion. After failing to get anything going offensively in addition to nearly eating the most feared Lariat in the business, Dangerous tosses his hands in a “forget this” gesture. Wobbling around the ring side area, Dangerous frantically tackles the belt holder. Wrestling the belt away from it’s designated handler, Dangerous stumbles down the aisle. Pete: It looks like Dangerous is packing his bags and heading home. King: Smart move by Dangerous, Williams can’t win the title by a count out. Pete: Somehow I doubt this is the calculated act of a genius. King: I wouldn’t expect a caveman like you to understand the actions of a genius. Not liking this one bit, the fans lower their thumbs in disapproval, throwing wadded up programs and empty beer cups in Dangerous’ direction. They paid good money to see tonight’s match, it can’t end like this. Unlike the fans, Williams can do something about this travesty. Jumping out of the ring with a snort, Williams angrily marches up the aisle. Peaking over his shoulder, Dangerous picks up the tempo, climbing up the ramp with a goofy hobble that recalls images of the possessed Rick Moranis in Ghostbusters. Easily catching up with the punch drunken champion at the top of the stage, Williams reaches out and snags him by the hair. Dipping underneath his captured foe, Williams casually presses Dangerous over his head. Clinging to the belt, Dangerous pleas for his life while doing his best not to look down at the terrible fate waiting for him below. King: That lunatic’s gonna throw him off the stage! Coming to their feet, the fans beg Williams to do it. What terrible fate awaits Dangerous, a slam down the ramp, a free fall to his death, or something else? Choosing the later, Williams heads down the ramp while miracliously keeping Dangerous suspended over his head. The puzzled fans “oh” and “ah” as Williams starts to pick up some speed, bulleting towards the ring with snowballing momentum. Bug eyed, Dangerous screams in horror as the ring moves closer and closer to him. Timing his release just right, Williams launches Dangerous towards the squared circle like a human javelin! Threading the ropes, Dangerous crash lands in the center of the ring with a splattering thud! Pete: Williams wants him back in the ring, the only place where he can win the title. Impressed by Williams’ amazing display of power and stamina, the Cleveland crowd rabidly applauds. Leaping onto the ring apron with cat like agility, Williams purposefully scales the turnbuckles. Holding his aching back, Dangerous winces as he pushes himself upright, meanwhile Soapdish returns the title to the designated official in hopes he can guard it better this time. Not realizing he’s walking into a trap, Dangerous spins around. Gracefully diving off the top rope, Williams levels the secret agent with a powerful back elbow! A mess of flailing limbs, Dangerous tumbles over with the momentum, ending up face down and his stomach where he lies dazed and incoherent. Getting the impression that Dangerous is ready to be taken out, Williams energetically runs in the place, rallying the thousands in attendance into a wild frenzy. Ripping off his elbow pad, Williams beckons Dangerous to rise so that he may tear his head off and take home the gold. Pete: Williams is looking for the Axe Bomber again! Regaining some basic motor skills, Dangerous struggles to pull himself up in the corner, oblivious of the lurking danger behind him. Twitching and wiggling like a hitter at bat, Williams waits for the moment to strike. It comes when Dangerous reaches his feet, turns, and slumps. Letting out an ear piercing scream that can be heard over the howling hordes, Williams charges! Steam rolling across the ring, Williams extends his muscular arm for the crushing death blow! The blow would surely have obliterated Dangerous if it even came close to landing! Content on being more than target practice, Dangerous dips down and catches Williams around his legs! Using Danny’s own momentum against him, Dangerous heaves his attacker off the canvas and hurls him backwards! Crack! Going face first into the ring post, Williams bounces to the canvas and gruesomely rolls off his neck! Outraged by this gruesome atrocity, the entire crowd leaps out of their chairs and vents their disgust. Kings: That’s the move that won Dangerous the Title! Pete: What a repulsive desperation move from Dangerous. He has become so obsessed with the title that he’ll risk seriously injuring his opponents to keep it. King: If you won the title, you’d understand that type of behavior is necessary. Sinking to the mat, Dangerous smacks himself around, struggling to wake up. Soapdish hurls a series of warnings but Dangerous could care less, what’s he gonna do disqualify him. Needing to capitalize off the deadly move he just employed, Dangerous ponders his situation. He doesn’t need to risk the Death from Above right now, besides he’s the Champion now he doesn’t need to take risks anymore. Crawling out of the corner, Dangerous turns Williams over, revealing a dark pool of fresh blood. Chuckling at what he has done, Dangerous hooks a leg for the pin. Anarchy breaks out in the stands, this is the second time the fans will have to watch one of their favorites fall prey to the secret agent’s cheap move. They scream, boo, and throw what they can but in the end it’s all up to Williams as the ref starts the count. One! Two! NO! Williams manages a meek kick out! Momentarily relieved, the fans briefly applaud and return to their feet. This comes as a surprise to Dangerous, who was certain that Williams had been knocked cold. No matter, this is only a brief delay of the inevitable. Swiping his hands to his sides, Dangerous shouts “It’s over!” to the worried fans. If I can’t pin him I’ll make him quit, thinks Dangerous, who fashionably wraps Danny’s head around the back of his neck like it’s a feathered Boa. Pete: He’s going for the Barracuda! King: This is one defense in the books. Resisting, Williams clings to Dangerous’ leg, preventing himself from completely turned around. This doesn’t prove to be enough as Dangerous casually scrapes the boot of his free leg across William’s lacerated forehead, stomping and grinding it until he releases his grip. The “boos” are deafening as Dangerous turns Williams over and drops down, bending his back to the snapping point. While his back may be in horrific pain this isn’t the main cause of Williams’ grief, exploiting the injury, Dangerous drops his knee across the back of his victim’s head, pushing and grinding his bloodied face into the canvas! The sight is sickening, evoking the deepest sympathies from the thousands in attendance. “Ask him! Ask him!”, spits a deranged sounding Dangerous. An ill feeling Soapdish bends down and pops the question. For Williams, asking him if he wants to quit now is like an insult. This is the moment he’s waited for since he returned, after all he’s endured to get here, he’s gonna give up a chance to win the title that he’s lost so much blood for? Just barely pushing his mouth off the canvas, Williams defiantly screams,”Noooooooooooo!” Angered by Williams’ stubborn refusal to quit, Dangerous sadistically raises his knee off his victim’s head and drops it, than again, and again, repeatedly banging the trapped Williams’ face into the mat. With his blood running across the canvas like a spilled can of crimson paint, Williams gasps, screams, and chokes. If there was anyone in the building who still had nostalgic place in their heart for Johnny Dangerous, their hearts have been turned by this gruesome scene. Pete: I’ve never seen this side of Johnny Dangerous before, the glory days of Wild and Dangerous have never seemed so far away. King: This is what it takes to hang on to titles, Pete. Terrified and repulsed, the fans do the only thing they can for Williams, help him will his way out of Dangerous’ torturous clutches. It starts with a few fans in the front, gradually spreading it’s way to the sides and back until the entire crowd is frantically chanting! “Dan-e! Dan-e! Dan-e!” The chant is thunderous and demanding, the fans have done their part, it’s up to Williams to do his. Snapping back to life with a burst of adrenaline, Williams answers the call of his fans. He scratches, claws, and pulls, epically dragging himself to the only thing that can save him, the bottom rope. Snorting and snarling, Williams inches himself towards salvation, stretching his mangled and twisted body outwards, snagging the ropes with his first try! Pete: You want to know what really wins titles, King, it’s displays of courage like that. King: No, that’s what causes idiots to lose their health. The fans rejoice but not for long! Refusing to release the hold, Dangerous screams with frustration, continuing to torque Williams’ back with his favorite submission hold. Soapdish starts the count but Dangerous does nothing, daring the official to d.q. him. Not wanting to give in to the cunning Champions demands, Soapdish grabs his hair and pries him off Williams’ mangled body to a big pop. Dangerous may not be a big wrestler but he’s still much larger than the tiny official, whom he roughly shoves to the mat. Realizing that Soapdish isn’t gonna disqualify him just yet, a cocky Dangerous bends over and bitch smacks the taste out of the official’s mouth. Soapdish swallows his pride and takes it, if this is the price has to take to restore order so be it. Pete: This is despicable, he may be the champion but he has no right to treat an official this way. King: Soapdish had no right to pull his hair like that, if he didn’t step over the line, Dangerous wouldn’t have had to put him back in his place. While the near rioting fans call him every name in the book, a determined Dangerous makes his way back over to Williams, hell bent on taking him out once and for all. So much blood is pouring from Williams’ head that you can’t even make out his unmistakable strong featured face as he struggles to pull himself up with the ropes. All you can see is the volcanic blue of eyes, alive with pain and determination. Grabbing Williams by his leg, Dangerous pulls him to the center of the ring. Intent on furthering the damage he’s done, Dangerous stiffens his body and executes a picture perfect fist drop! Not settling for just one, Dangerous frantically drops two more, splattering Williams’ blood across his knuckles! The bloodied Williams is barely moving, giving Dangerous all the incentive he needs to try the cover. One! Two! ................... Thre-NO! A spasmic thrust of the legs frees Williams from the pin. Getting irritated, Dangerous tries another cover. One! Two! ................ NO! Again, Williams barely kicks out! Shooting an accusing look at Soapdish, Dangerous mounts Williams’ chest and unloads a brutal flurry of punches to his face. Blood droplets fly everywhere, decorating the ring in dark red spots. Another cover follows! One! Two! .................. Thre-NO! Williams wiggles a shoulder up, sending Dangerous over the edge! Jumping to his feet, Dangerous curses at Soapdish, insisting that he’s been purposely counting slow. Crazy eyed and pulling at his jet black hair, Dangerous no longer resembles a smooth secret agent but a glue sniffing punk rocker. Soapdish holds his ground, maintaining that he’s been calling it right down the middle. Getting nowhere, Dangerous madly goes after Williams. Dragging him off the mat, Dangerous scoops him on his shoulders with a fireman carry. With no regard for Williams’ well being, Johnny spins around and tosses him over the top rope like a piece of garbage. “Boooooooooooooooooooooooo!” Dusting his hands off, Dangerous orders Soapdish to count him out. Soapdish agrees but only if he keeps his distance and lets him count Danny out fairly. King: Dangerous is smartly employing the Champion’s advantage, he doesn’t have to pin Williams to keep the title, he can just set back and let him get counted out. Pete: This cowardly act may very well be the only way Dangerous can defeat the determined challenger. King: Exactly Pete, now your learning. Half heartedly, Soapdish slowly starts the count while the nervous fans watch on with their hearts in their mouths. Dangerous watches on with great interest, making sure that Soapdish isn’t trying to cheat him. “One!” “Two!” “Three!” Laying in a pool of his own blood, Williams begins to stir, sluggishly pushing his chest off the floor. “Four!” “Five!” “Six!” Using the apron as a crutch, Williams drags himself upright. He hears the official’s count now, encouraging him to try harder. “Seven!” “Eight!” The drowsy challenger struggles to throw his leg over the apron while the panic stricken fans beg him to hurry up. Getting worried, Dangerous starts screaming at Soapdish to hurry up. Paying no mind to the Champion, Soapdish carries on the count at his regular pace. “Nine!” Getting one leg up, Williams slides beneath the bottom rope, beating the count. Snarling, Dangerous pushes Soapdish out of the way and drags Williams the rest of the way inside. Taking him by the hair, Dangerous runs Williams across the ring and hurls him over the top rope. Turning away, Dangerous gets on Soapdish, whining about the count and insisting that he do it right this time. Little does Dangerous know, Williams held onto the ropes, preventing himself from taking another nasty spill to the outside. While the hopeful celebrate, Williams somehow finds the strength to ascends the turnbuckles. Realizing that something went wrong, Dangerous swings around, finding his challenger perched on the top rope. Not giving the ambush the chance to materialize, Dangerous runs into the ropes, triggering a vibration that takes Williams’ feet out from under him. The disappointed fans flinch and boo as the off balance Williams crouches himself on the top turnbuckle! Pete: What further depths of depravity will Dangerous sink to in his quest to retain the title. King: He’ll sink as far as it takes. Dangerous has dreamt of winning that title for over a year, of course he’s gonna pull out it every trick in the book to keep it. Williams should take notes, this is how you earn the title and keep it. Danny’s a sitting duck and Dangerous knows it. With malicious thoughts drifting into his mind, Dangerous gleefully climbs up after Williams. This is his chance to put away the stubborn bastard once and for all. Crack! Upon reaching the second rope, a sudden elbow smash catches Dangerous off guard! Crack! A second elbow follows, knocking Dangerous woozy! Springing to life, a desperate Williams bravely leaps over the back of his stunned foe, catching him around the legs in mid flight! Landing on his feet, Williams rips Dangerous off the ropes, pulling him to the canvas with a thunderous Sunset Flip Powerbomb!!! Pete: What a move! This is exactly how Williams first won the title from Ejiro! King: Stupid move by Dangerous, as the Champion he had no business taking a risk like that. Williams leans forward on his tippy toes, holding Dangerous’ folded carcass down for the pin! With images of Williams’ first title win last year dancing in their heads, the fans jump up and down with joy as Soapdish anxiously starts the count. “One!” “Two!” ............. “THRE-Oooooooh!” collectively groans the crowd as Dangerous rakes Williams’ blood dripping face, breaking up the pin. King: Well, at least he redeemed himself by smartly exploiting the injury. Pete: But Dangerous is hurt and Williams may still have a shot at pulling off the miracle. While Williams bleeds on the ropes, Dangerous agonizes on the canvas. Clutching his aching back, a frustrated Dangerous fights his way to a vertical base. Gingerly staggering around like a hunchback, Dangerous clings to the ropes for support. Making his way over to Williams, Dangerous takes out his frustration with some mean spirited stomps. Since Williams is on the ropes, Soapdish tries to get in the way but Dangerous pushes him down for the second time tonight. “Booooooooooooooooo!” Sitting up, Soapdish stares at Dangerous with repressed anger. Leaving Williams to waddle around in his own blood, Dangerous climbs to the outside. Unable to straighten his back, the broken Champion stumbles around the outside like a teetering drunk. Grabbing a nearby chair and using it like a crutch, Dangerous makes for the belt holder like a crazy old man chasing a bottle of viagra. The poor official makes a run for it but Dangerous hurls the chair in his direction, nailing him in the back with it! Collecting his title, Dangerous rolls back into the ring against Soapdish’s wishes. He doesn’t want to escape with his belt anymore, if Danny wants it he can have it. Standing poised and ready with the title, Dangerous orders Williams to rise! Pete: That coward is gonna purposely get himself d.q.ed! King: That coward is gonna keep his title! Letting Williams reach his knees, Dangerous draws back the belt when he feels some resistance! Turning around, Dangerous finds a stone faced Soapdish clinging to his precious title. Cursing and swearing like an ill mannered sailor, Dangerous violently tugs at the strap while the delighted fans root for the brave little official. Dangerous shakes Soapdish from side to side like he’s a baby rattler but the angry balding little man clings to the belt like a pitbull. But suddenly, Soapdish stops struggling. Looking behind Dangerous, a rare smile forms on the official’s face. Releasing the belt, Soapdish distances himself from the dead man in front of him. Puzzled, Dangerous creeps around! BLAM! The Axe Bomber viciously connects, sending the junior heavyweight flipping backwards like a gymnast! Unlike a gymnast he lands on his neck, bouncing off his head like it’s a basketball. Twitching like a dying animal, Dangerous lays on his back, the belt he has sacrificed so much for remains clinched in his hand. Laid out beside his victim, the near dead Williams remains focused on his goal, using his last ounce of energy to wearily drape a tired arm across Dangerous’ chest. Sliding to the canvas with excitement, Soapdish wipes his smile off his face and eagerly starts the count. Endlessly applauding, the fans scream along with the count at the top of their lungs! “ONE!” “TWO!” ............ “THREE!” Soapdish calls for the bell and the celebration that follows is monumental! Ding! Ding! Ding! If it were not for security, the fans would have overtook the ring. The arena has transformed into a proverbial madhouse, they knew that there was a strong possibility that Williams could pull it off but it’s not until it actually happened that they realize the magnitude of the event. Possessed by the festive mood that has taking over the arena, the most reserved fans have found themselves standing and at least clapping. Prying the belt from Dangerous’ dead fingers, Soapdish hands the title to the blood stained Williams. From his knees, Williams cradles the belt to his chest, staring at it in disbelief. It doesn’t seem real to him. This moment has been an accumulation of a year long struggle, an apex he thought he would never reach again as he spiraled into oblivion last year. Pete: History has been made! For the first time in SWF history, we have a four time World Champion! King: This is an outrage! Pete: What you do mean? King: I never cheated this bad this bad to win the title, Pete. Dangerous has been screwed by a dirty official who refused to follow the handbook and disqualify him despite his constant rule breaking. Slow counts, psychical confrontations, hair pulling, distractions, the list goes on and on. I wander how much Danny paid him? Pete: I doubt he paid him anything but Danny at least treated him with respect. Despite Dangerous’ numerous attempts to sabotage the match, Soapdish kept it clean and called it down the line. If anything, Soapdish should get an award for his officiating tonight. King: Thank me, your not in charge of the year end awards. Despite massive blood loss, Williams postpones medical treatment to pose with the title for the screaming hordes of near rioting fans. He knows has to enjoy this moment while it lasts, this we’ll be his last night as a freeman. From experience, Williams knows that winning a title is easy, he’s done it more than anybody it’s hanging on to it that will be the real challenge. The challengers are already lining up with Magnifico at the head of the pack. It’s gonna be difficult but Williams is up to the challenge. The copyright rolls on a final shot of a battle weary Williams stretching the title over his head while flash photography goes off like machine gun fire.