Chuck Woolery

The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents... SWF SMARKDOWN! TAPED ON HALLOWEEN NIGHT, AIRED ON TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 1st, FROM THE BISMARCK CIVIC CENTER IN BISMARCK, NORTH DAKOTA! (5PM PST, 8PM EST; check local listings) Matches due to markers by 10:00 PM, Eastern Standard Time. Send all materials (promos, marked matches, booking requests, etc.) to chirs3 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The Main Event - Standard Pre-PPV Big Main Event of Great Magnitude The HispaniCan Connection (El Luchadore Magnifico ©, Landon Maddix ©, and JJ Johnson ©) vs. City Legendary Configuration (Todd Cortez, TORU Takahara, and KOJI Kitano) --> The power of Mansonosity literally blew Spike Jenkins to pieces on Lockdown. Normally we'd put him opposite his PPV contendor before the PPV in a match like this, but we're afraid he won't live to make it to A2A, so we've given him a somewhat safer opponent for tonight, and decided to give Cortez a chance to redeem himself, somewhat. On the other side, Jay Hawke is busy defending his International Championship, so JJ Johnson will be standing in for him. So it's Landon, Johnson, and Magnifico vs. TKO and Todd Cortez! But that's not enough - oh no, not nearly enough. Even though I'm pretty sure not all of the occupants meet the weight requirements, we're doing this LUCHA STYLE (as related to me by JJ Johnson)!! Rules: Lucha rules - 20 count on the outside, piledrivers are illegal, and a tag is registered if the legal man touches the arena floor! Word Limit: 6000 Send to: chirs3 TKO: Garden Gnomes Todd Cortez: The Headless Horseman El Luchadore Magnifico: The Thingy In The Middle JJ Johnson: Mountie Landon Maddix: The King of All Cosmos -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SWF International Championship Match Jay Hawke © vs. Wildchild --> Jay Hawke will be busy with the Tag Titles at A2A, so tonight he gets another defense on free-TV... and what a defense it is! Hawke managed to best Johnny Dangerous last Storm, but now Johnny's ex-partner, coming off a HUGE win over TORU Takahara, gets a crack at the title! Will Wildchild succeed where Johnny failed? Or will he just become another notch on Jay Hawke's ridiculously impressive belt? Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 5000 Send to: Chuck Woolery Jay Hawke: Mr. Red Wildchild and Melissa: "Macho Man" Randy Savage and Miss Elizabeth -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SWF Hardcore Championship Match - House Rules "Trunk or Treat" Match Bruce Blank © vs. Haffy --> Haffy beat Bill Fifllallafmandm. That makes me happy. Have a title match, Haffy! Rules: Bismarck refused to let us have these two wrestle in one of their neighborhoods during Trick or Treating, so we had to improvise. A curious phenomena I found out about up here in Utah is "Trunk or Treat" - where parents, paranoid that their kids will be given razorblade apples or poison candy from regular Trick or Treating, all stuff candy in the trunk of their cars, drive to a big parking lot, and let kids visit all the other cars for candy. So tonight, Bruce Blank and Haffy will be duking it out in the parking lot of the Bismarck Orthodox Presbyterian Chapel. Unbeknownst to the owners of the cars, the SWF managed to sneak the SWF Hardcore Championship belt into one of their trunks! Which one? Who knows! Bruce Blank and Haffy must engage in a no-holds-barred parking lot brawl to find it! The fight starts in the very center of the parking lot. It may move anywhere it damn well pleases - the street, the chapel, doesn't matter. The fight goes on until one man pops the correct trunk and grabs the title belt! And yes - parents and children will be present. They won't necessarily be informed of what's going on, though... Word Limit: 5000 Send to: janusd Bruce Blank: This Guy Haffy: Crocodile Dundee -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins vs. Ghost Machine --> Oh how the mighty have fallen. Our current #1 Contendor to the World Heavyweight Title has been losing left and right, and even got blown into little meaty chunks on Lockdown. Thanks to some black market voodoo witch doctoring materials, we managed to revive our plucky hero, but will his recent brush with death help turn his luck around? Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 4500 Send to: Justice Ghost Machine: Nicolas Cage (as Ghost Rider) "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins: Ghost Machine (no picture available) -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Marcus Ward vs. Candace "The Joshi Dragon" Okimura --> Bill Fillmaff had, um... a poker tournament... so Marcus Ward will be taking over for him against Candace, in what must be one of the biggest mismatches in history! Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 4000 Send to: JJ Johnson Candace: Candy Striper (somewhat risky picture) Marcus Ward: Smokey the Bear -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Opening Bout "The Rage" Jason Von Dierch vs. Ced Ordonez --> The SWF's newest asset takes on the SWF's most beloved punching bag! Rules: Standard singles match. Word Limit: 3500 Send to: chirs3 Jason Von Dierch: Rage Zombie Ced Ordonez: Human DDR Pad -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Opening Promo: Free! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- These two aren't booked, but I got the costumes anyway: Manson: Zombie Cowboy Akira: Pink Power Ranger Notice: Please send all A2A booking requests to both Chuck Woolery AND to chirs3. Even if you already sent them once, send them again. If you're not doing anything, tell us that too. So if my cable goes out (again) or if Mike's gotta work, one of us can hopefully still work on it. ALSO NOTE: We will be pushing back A2A by one night, to help compensate. The show after a PPV is usually a promo show anyway, so taking one day off the writing time for it shouldn't hurt too much. We will be back on regular schedule after that. FINAL NOTE~!: Yes, Smarkdown typically is the "pure" wrestling show, but this was booked at about 1:00 AM, under the influence of entirely too much sugar, and damn it, it's Halloween. Let's just have some fun.

Attention SWF Superstars! Since Smarkdown is on Halloween, I will be putting every wrestler in some sort of halloween costume. If you have any particular costume you'd like your character wearing, PM me -- if you don't send me anything, I will make up a halloween costume myself, and you may or may not like it.

Storm returns from the commercial break just as the ring crew put the finishing touches on the pole they’ve mounted to one turnbuckle pole. “A perfectly good pole and not a single scantly clad woman dancing on it, it’s a crime I tell ya” King mutters. “Welcome back viewers we are moments away from the main… “ is all Pete gets out before he’s cut off “GOD DAMN MOVE WHEN I SAY MOVE, MOTHERFUCKER!” “Exile on Mainline” kicks in as KOJI steps through the curtains with a stoic face even though he already draws a mostly positive response from the fans tonight. Card and Natasha flank him as always while the lightning quick Japanese superstar walks towards the ring. “Introducing first: from the Saitama prefecture weighing in at 219 pounds, one half of T!K!O! –KOOOOOJI KITANOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!” Funyon bellows as he introduces the main event. “KOJI has been on a roller coaster with the fans, they booed him like crazy when he cheated Spike out of a win, but were more behind him when he fell to J.J. Johnson last week” Pete remarks, marveling at the wonders of “tweenerdom”. “Fickle fans, not like me though – If I don’t like a guy I stick with it” King says. “Like Landon Maddix?” Pete asks. After pulling KOJI’s coat off Natasha takes his shades as well making sure her man is ready for the match. Koji leaps up on the apron, grabs the top rope and then flips himself into the ring where he looks up in the air at the quill. Chris Card taps the side of a metal briefcase that he’s got with him tonight, chained to his hand. “I bet that rat has the Tag-Team title in that briefcase, he just doesn’t want anyone to steal it back” Pete says “Brilliant! Possession is 9/10th of the law and Chris is making sure the gold stays with TKO” King replies. “Actually in South Dakota it’s only 8/10ths King, 1/10th is ownership and the last tenth is “He who smelt it dealt it” round these parts” Pete says in a manner that may or may not be joking. Funyon launches into his introductory spiel again as “Don’t ask me no questions” is heard. “His opponent the defending Hardc…” Funyon stops himself for a second and then reads the notes “Excuse me ULTRA VIOLENT Champion” “Heh old Funyon didn’t want to incur the wrath of Bruce Blank” King sniggers with reference to Bruce’s opening promo. “Weighing in at 295 pounds, the Trailerpark superstar BRUCEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE BLANK!!” BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! The fans boo Bruce mercilessly as he steps through the curtains holding a trashcan full of all sorts of weapons high up in the air with his right arm. Grinning Bruce walks towards the ring, showing the camera the contents of the trash can, baseball bat wrapped in barbwire, hockey stick, something with nails in it and other weapons that are hard to identify. “Bruce is bringing some hardcore plunder with him tonight” Pete says. “Well if there ever was a man to bring it, it’s Bruce” King replies as he thinks about ordering a barbwire baseball bat for himself, be handy to shut Pete up now and again. KOJI runs towards the corner of the ring that’s closes to the entrance, leaps up on the top turnbuckle and then soars like a bald eagle towards an unprepared Bruce Blank. *THUD!* YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!! “That was insane!!” Pete screams out as the fans in the crowd leap to their feet. “He caught Bruce totally unprepared with that flying cross body” Using the advantage he created for himself KOJI quickly rips the barbwire wrapped belt off Bruce and then starts to lay in a series of kicks that sends his opponent right into the guardrails. Pausing for a moment KOJI looks at the weapons scattered all over the floor, not sure what to do in the situation. “KOJI is a great wrestler, a high flier and a speedster but he’s not used to these Hardcore matches at all.” King points out as KOJI gets instructions from Card. After finally understanding what Card was yelling at him, KOJI picks up the now empty trashcan and places it on Bruce’s lap. Then he takes a few steps back, runs at Bruce and lands a lightning quick sliding drop kick right to the trash can, flattening it against Bruce’s hairy chest. As he gets up KOJI looks at the quill hanging from the pole, as if he was trying to decide whether to go for the quill or to try and find the paper. “What would you do King? Would you climb that pole or try to find the document?” Pete asks his color-commentary partner. “Well Pete, having been in many of these matches myself” King starts off by boasting “I’d say you would want to find the document first, you already know where the quill is so find the document and you’re half way there” he adds doing his best “John Madden knows everything” imitation while lying through his teeth Bruce takes the choice away from KOJI as he hits the Japanese cruiserweight across the back with a hockey stick, breaking the stick on impact. Then he quickly grabs the trashcan and swings at KOJI’s face like he was Joe DiMaggio swinging for the fence *CRACK!!* BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! Then Bruce grabs KOJI by the hair and around the neck and launches him over the guardrail into the crowd with ease. After looking at the pole for a moment Bruce makes his way to the ring and climbs up on the apron with every intention of getting the quill “See now this is exactly what I would do! Get the quill first and then find the document, if you got the quill you’re half way there” King says as Bruce gingerly begins to climb up the turnbuckles on the outside of the ring. “You just said the complete and utter opposite!” Pete fires at King. “That’s a lie!! A dirty, scurrilous lie!!” King says to defend himself from such slanderous comments. Being so big and wearing those slick soled cowboy boots makes Bruce’s climb towards the top rope a bit slow, but finally the big man manages to get all the way up on the top rope with one hand on the pole for balance. With all his focus on keeping his balance Bruce doesn’t notice KOJI leaping up on the apron on the other side of the turnbuckle before it’s too late. Much, much too late KOJI runs at Bruce, leaps up, grabs the pole and uses his momentum to swing his body around on the outside of the pole, bringing both his feet square into Bruce’s face. *POW!!* The impact knocks Bruce backwards, flying off the top rope into the ring where he crashes to the canvas like an anvil dropping from the top of Mount Rushmore. Natasha throws a heavy chain to KOJI, who wraps it around his right fist and then leaps up on the middle of the top rope, springboarding himself towards Bruce. YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!! The crowd explodes as KOJI nails Bruce right between the eyes with the chain, busting the Trailerpark Superstar open from the impact. With Bruce knocked into the opposite corner, holding his face in pain KOJI decides to make a move for the quill on the 15 foot pole. “KOJI could get a decisive advantage if he can reach the quill” Pete says as KOJI climbs the ropes. “Look at Bruce Pete!” King says while pointing at the champion Bruce looks at the blood that’s all over his hands, he’s looking at his own blood and laughing like a mad man. “I don’t like the look in his eyes King, this guy needs some serious therapy” Pete says as Bruce leaps to his feet. Bruce rushes over and grabs hold of the pole just as KOJI has climbed to the top of it and is reaching for the quill. KOJI manages to put a hand on the feather but has to give it up and cling on to the pole instead as Bruce is shaking it violently. Bruce has both hands wrapped around the pole and uses all his strength to rock it back and forth. With one powerful yank Bruce manages to dislodge KOJI from the pole and sends him uncontrollably flying into the center of the ring. *CRUCH!* KOJI slams down in an awkward position trapping his left arm between the canvas and his own body. Bruce just grins like a mad man as he unwraps some of the duct tape he’s got wrapped around his left arm and holds it up like a garrotte. “Come on Nick you can’t just let this happen” Pete pleads with referee Nick Soapdish. “He has to Pete, there are no rules in this match. Hell he doesn’t even have to count to 3, just keep an eye on who signs the copy of the Declaration of independence” King points out. So Nick Soapdish is basically powerless as Bruce wraps the duct tape around KOJI’s throat and begins to choke his opponent out. WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! Bruce totally ignores the chants and just keeps tightening his grip on the tape as he keeps on choking KOJI. The Japanese superstar desperately tries to get a finger in between the tape and his throat to catch some air but Bruce isn’t giving him an opening to do so. “This is sick! This is attempted murder King” Pete says. “Yup, that’s why he’s the Ultra Violent champion Pete – get with the program” King replies. KOJI’s eyes begin to get a glazed over look while Bruce keeps the vice grip on tight. With no way of breaking the hold the referee cannot do anything but stand and watch, but finally it’s too much for the veteran referee and he actually reminds Chris Card that he can’t get disqualified for interfering. Card gets the picture instantly and slides into the ring behind Bruce. He raises the metal briefcase and *THUD!* Smacks Bruce over the back with it to make him break the choke hold. Bruce lets go of the duct tape and instead turns around and stares at Chris Card, smiling a demented smile with blood running down over his teeth. Bruce lunges for Card, so deep in his blood rush that he wasn’t even affected by the blow from the metal briefcase. “RUN CHRIS RUN!!” King says as Technical Perfection slides under the bottom rope and then runs up the aisle fearing that Bruce is right behind him. Bruce turns his attention back to KOJI who’s still on the ground, almost out from the choke. Moments later Bruce has KOJI in a position for a power bomb. The big man flips KOJI up and then brings him down hard with a power bomb. *WHAM!* Not releasing his grip on KOJI Bruce powers his opponent’s 219 pound body up again for another power bomb. *WHAM!* After the second impact Bruce grabs even tighter hold of KOJI’s trunks and lifts the bruised and battered Cruiserweight up in the air for a third consecutive power bomb driving KOJI’s shoulders hard into the mat. *WHAM!* BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! “What a display of power!! Bruce made that look so easy Pete” King says. “Bruce is pulling out all the stop tonight! He’s determined to not lose two in a row to a member of TKO” Pete says. “He’s determined to not lose the title more than anything – but successfully defending it against a member of TKO would make it that much sweeter” King adds. Bruce drops to his knees and then begins to beg off from KOJI’s prone body, clearly a big “F.U.” to his partner TORU and all the TKO fans in the audience WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! Bruce rolls off his knees and under the bottom rope to the floor where he starts to look around. He goes over to Funyon’s time keeper table, pushes the ring announcer out of the way and then stars to throw Funyon’s notes all over the place in search of the copy of the Declaration of Independence they have to sign to win. “I guess Bruce decided to look for the Declaration while KOJI is out cold in the ring” Pete says. “He can’t pin him or make him submit Pete, so what better time to look for the document?” King replies in his usual smug “know it all” voice. Bruce doesn’t find anything in Funyon’s papers – then he sees a fan holding up a sign that says “TORU 3:16 says – I just kicked Bruce Blank’s ass” which seems to piss him off for some reason. Bruce grabs the sign, pushes the fan down and then looks at the back of the sign just in case it had the Declaration taped to it. When he sees that it’s not there he proceeds to tear the sign into little pieces and hurl them at the fan that brought the sign with him. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! Back in the ring Natasha is checking on KOJI, trying to wake him up before Bruce can find the document he’s searching for. Bruce walks down the aisle towards the Mount Rushmore monument looking for the document, with Chris Card trailing behind him at a safe distance. “Now that’s clever, KOJI is down but that doesn’t mean TKO don’t have any tricks up their sleeves – Chris is keeping an eye on Bruce while KOJI recovers” King says and can’t help but be impressed by their resourcefulness. “Bruce hasn’t found the document yet, so it’s not like this match is over” Pete replies. Bruce notices a program vendor in the crowd and quickly leaps the guardrail to stop him. After grabbing the vendor’s stash of programs he starts to flip through them to see if the copy of the Declaration of independence is in there. Meanwhile Natasha has managed to get KOJI back on his feet, rubbing his neck and shoulders to get him more alert and able to get back in the match. “I don’t think that vendor has it, Bruce has flipped through all those programs and has not found it yet” Pete says as Bruce gets more and more frustrated, throwing programs everywhere. Finally satisfied that the document he’s looking for isn’t there he resumes his search, looking through the crowd to find anything that could look like a document, any type of paper at all. “We may run out of time here on Storm if neither man can find the document soon” Pete says. “Those bastards in the back didn’t even tell ME where it was” King says not missing an opportunity to take a shot at the idiots in the back. Chris Card watches as Bruce makes his way through the crowd and stops at a guy holding the latest “SWF Magazine” (cover story: Genesis VI). The fan knows better than to mess with Bruce and quickly hands over the magazine without arguing. Bruce flips through the magazine, past the letters page, the profiles – he does stop for a second on the picture spread from the Bruce Blank Vs J.J. Johnson match. “Hey you owe me 10 bucks, Bruce CAN read” King says. “Now hold on, who says he’s not just looking at the pictures” Pete replies, not really eager to part with $10. While sidetracked by pictures of his PPV match Bruce doesn’t notice that KOJI has recovered from the beating Bruce administered to him earlier in the match. Unaware Bruce absentmindedly turns around towards the guard rails, giving KOJI an opportunity to leap up on the guard rail and use it as a springboard for his attack on Bruce. YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!! The crowd explodes as KOJI takes Bruce down with a breathtaking, very high risk Satellite headscissors that sends Bruce flying into a row of fans. KOJI gets back on his feet and flips off Bruce, resulting to quite a few fans flipping off Bruce as well. “Man the fans really hate Bruce with a passion – He could make the devil popular if he faced him” Pete says marveling at just how quickly Bruce Blank has made himself extremely unpopular with the fans. “You saying that’s a bad thing? Bruce is a man of his convictions – he sticks to his strategy” King responds. KOJI is on Bruce in a flash, grabbing the Trailerpark superstar by the hair and then tossing him over the guard rail back into the aisle. KOJI leaps over the guardrail and then quickly takes Bruce down with a roundhouse kick. KOJI motions for Card to come over and help him and together they pull Bruce to his feet and double Irish whip him towards the ring. Bruce shifts his weight a bit and leaps, ending up on the apron instead of hitting the side of the ring. “KOJI wants the match back inside the squared circle, that’s where he feels most comfortable I think” Pete says as KOJI quickly slides under the bottom rope and drags Bruce in. “Which is all nice and fine, if this was a wrestling match – but Bruce isn’t the self proclaimed “Ultra Violent” champion for nothing.” King responds. KOJI keeps on pressing his advantage by hitting Bruce in the chest or on the shoulder with alternating left and right footed roundhouse kicks that staggers the big man. Then KOJI slips behind Bruce and manages to lock him into an inverted face lock. “INVERTED DDT!! He’s got it locked in” Pete shouts in excitement. Before KOJI drops Bruce he stops for a second to flip off the crowd who just cheers in response, unfortunately for KOJI the momentary distraction has allowed Bruce to reach backwards and locks his arms behind KOJI’s back. Then he uses all the power in his body to arch up from his vulnerable position and stand up straight while picking Kitano up as well. “Oh but KOJI had it locked in” King says mockingly “Don’t count your chickens before they’ve hatched McDougal” Bruce has KOJI draped over his shoulder and quickly takes advantage of the position by driving his opponent back first into the turnbuckle. Then he drops KOJI upside down and traps one of the Japanese Cruiserweight’s legs under the top turnbuckle holder. “I think Bruce is… yes he’s going to try and get the quill!” Pete says as Bruce quickly climbs up the ropes and soon stands on the top turnbuckle. Unfortunately for Bruce the blood on his hands makes them extremely slippery so every time he tries to pull himself up the rope his hands slide down like they were greased up. Bruce’s attempts fail repeatedly, giving KOJI enough time to recover and get lose from the ropes. KOJI swiftly climbs up the ropes, then he climbs up OVER Bruce and actually stands on Bruce’s shoulders to reach for the quill “HE GOT IT!” Pete yells out as KOJI reaches out and wraps his hand around the quill and yank it off. Bruce manages to put a foot on the top rope and stands up, dropping KOJI into a seated position on his shoulders. “OH NO!! OH MY STARS AND GARTERS NO!” Pete screams as he realizes what Bruce is going for. “Stars and garters?” King mutters as he’s momentarily distracted from the match by that homosexual phrase. Bruce pushes backwards against the pole, dropping his body off the top rope towards the center of the ring with KOJI still up on his shoulders. The fans leap to their feet as they watch the two men fall backwards off the top rope and… *WHAM!!!* …hit the canvas with such force that they actually shake the whole ring. “THEY’RE BOTH DEAD!!” Pete says in that exaggerated voice he uses. “I wonder if that would make it a draw or a no contest?” King philosophizes. But that is a moot thought, as they are of course NOT dead, just in so much pain that they might wish they were. KOJI took the worst of the impact right on his neck and shoulders, which would explain why he’s curled up in the fetal position in the corner holding his head. Bruce’s 295 pounds coming off the top rope had a similar impact but the big man managed to take most of the impact on his back instead of his neck. “You know this could be a very, very boring match if these guys just lay there for the next 5 minutes.” King says as they both watch the inaction unfold. “It’s not like Nick can do a double count out or anything” Longdogger Pete quickly flips through his notes, trying to find out where Lockdown emanates from because it’s exactly the kind of information the views at home want at this stage in the bloody, brutal brawl and well he has to find something to say to fill the lull in the match. As he flips through his notes he comes upon something that surprises him “We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect U…” he reads and then clamps both hands over his mouth before he can say anything else. “What’s that Pete?” King asks off handed as he’s busy watching to see if anyone is moving in the ring. “Oh nothing – nothing at all” Pete says, looking a little pale while trying to play it cool – trying to keep both Bruce and KOJI away from the announce table for as long as humanly possible. With an innocent whistle Pete slides the copy of the constitution under his other notes and then turns his attention back to the ring Bruce finally manages to drag himself to his feet, then he spots the quill that KOJI dropped. Bruce picks it up and immediately gets it all bloody and nasty. He looks at the quill, then he looks at KOJI, then he looks back at the quill. “It’s just a feather – it’s not like he can use it as a weapon” Pete laments as Bruce considers his options. Bruce grabs the quill like a knife and points the sharp pointy writing tip at KOJI while he raises his arm in the air preparing to stab KOJI with the writing implement. Bruce brings the arm down at exactly the same time as KOJI brings a foot up at about a 45 degree angle straight into Bruce’s groin OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH! The crowd, Pete and King all wince in sympathy pain as Bruce gets kicked in the nads without a chance to deflect the impact. Bruce sinks to his knees, his face contorted in pain as he holds his crotch. KOJI gets up, shakes his head to clear some of the cob webs and then knocks Bruce off his feet with a spinning back kick. KOJI grabs the quill and leaps on top of Bruce with the quill in his right hand. “He’s trying to jam it in Bruce’s eye!! What a maniac!!” Pete screams as KOJI brings the quill forward aiming the pointy tip at Bruce’s right eye. Bruce is able to get a hand up at the last moment to block the attempted blinding and holds the quill off. But KOJI has the leverage advantage and leans forward putting a lot of pressure on Bruce’s arm still trying to force the quill into Bruce’s eye. “Oh this could be bad, really bad Pete! I don’t think Bruce could pull off a pirate gimmick if he gets his eye poked out” King says, cracking a joke in the face of disaster. “You’re inhuman” Pete replies. Bruce’s massive arms push back on the quill, throwing KOJI off the big man and into the corner. Bruce gets up and looks around for the quill but can’t see it on the canvas, and it’s not in KOJI’s hand either. As soon as Bruce pulls his opponent back to his feet it’s painfully obvious to everyone where it is as the feather sticks out of the back of KOJI’s shoulder. “OH NASTY!!” Pete says as he closes his eyes. “He must have landed on it, cause that sucker is embedded in there” King replies as he can’t help but watch the carnage in the ring. The quill is in a position where KOJI can’t reach it himself, but Bruce can and he quickly yanks the feather out of KOJI’s shoulder. The quill acted as a cork but now that it has been removed KOJI starts to bleed profusely from his shoulder, down his arm, dripping to the floor mere moments after Bruce has pulled the quill out. “Now that Bruce finally has the quill he’s just got to find the document to sign” Pete says. “Easier said than done Pete” King fires back Bruce rolls out of the ring and start to grab people’s signs to see if the document is taped to the back of one of them. Meanwhile KOJI tries his best to work through the pain in his shoulder and goes in search of the document himself on the opposite side of the ring. “KOJI’s only chance now is to find the document before Bruce does. If he doesn’t he’s lost” Pete points out. “He could always steal the quill back” King quips as both Bruce and KOJI desperately search for the copy of the Declaration of Independence. Bruce sticks the quill into his back pocket, rips a sign that says “Mad for Maddix” from a fan and then throws it away when it doesn’t have the document taped to it. With both wrestlers working their way up the aisle checking signs they come upon the weapons that Bruce spilled all over the entrance early on in the match. Bruce sees his opening as he grabs something off the floor, then he levels KOJI with a big boot that knocks the Japanese superstar back against the guardrail. WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! “What’s that in Bruce’s hand” King asks as he sees Bruce raise something up in the air. “I think… oh my god that’s a metal fire poker!” Pete exclaims as he realizes what the long metallic object in Bruce’s hand is. “That thing could crack a skull if it connected” he follows up to stress to the people at home just how dangerous the situation could be. Bruce has KOJI right where he wants him as he raises the fire poker over his head, ready to strike. Knowing that the situation is pretty dire Natasha quickly runs down the aisle and rolls the canister of pepper spray in between Bruce’s legs right into the hand of KOJI. Before Bruce can even register what’s going on the lightning fast oriental has raised the pepper spray and FSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSH!! “AH MY EYES!!” Bruce managed to partially block the pepper spray with his hands but he got hit with enough to hurt and temporarily blind the big man. Bruce begins to thrash around in pain, blindly swinging the fire poker everywhere. KOJI ducks under a swing and then grabs the quill that’s sticking out of Bruce’s back pocket before running off towards the ring. “KOJI has the quill, now he just needs to find the paper and he’s the new champion” Pete says. “Don’t tell me that Card found it” King says in surprise as Chris Card holds up a piece of paper and yells at KOJI to come over to him. “But that can’t be right” Pete says as they both watch KOJI grab the document with a smirk, then he pulls out the… … tip of the feather, apparently he just broke the top part off of the quill off instead of grabbing it all from Bruce’s back pocket. The referee comes over to check the document, then starts to shout at Chris Card as he tried to fool him by using the booking sheet for Storm. Meanwhile Bruce has found a T-shirt that was just hanging there, doing nothing at all on some guy’s upper body and he’s using it to wipe the pepper spray from his eyes. “How did you know that wasn’t right Pete” King asks inquisitively. “Erm… no reason King, I just had a gut feeling” Pete says while sweating bullets, trying desperately to not call attention to the fact that the document was right in front of him. If Bruce or KOJI knew Pete could very well end up getting in their way and he really didn’t want that. Card finds the barbwire bat that was dropped earlier in the match, picks it up and then hands it to KOJI. Being out of his element KOJI hesitates for a moment as he just looks at the very dangerous weapon in his hand. Before he can even use it he’s been disarmed by Bruce who drills the tip of his boot right into KOJI’s right arm. “Once again disaster has been averted!” Pete says with a sigh of relief. “And that’s a good thing? Are you nuts?” King laments. KOJI ducks under a lariat from Bruce and then launches a spinning round house kick at the back of the big man’s head. The impact of the kick knocks Bruce up on the announcers table, making both King and Pete jump out of their chairs in surprise. KOJI points to the sky which draws a huge pop from the crowd YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!! “KOJI wants to go up?” Pete says in confusion. “I don’t think he means up on the pole Pete” King reassures his confused colleague as they both watch the action with their headsets on but 3-4 feet away from their announce table. KOJI climbs up the ring ropes and balances on the top rope for a moment. Then he leaps off the top rope while the collective audience holds their breath. Flipping over in mid air KOJI turns the leap into a stunning Senton Bomb move *KKRRAAAAAAASH!!* That hits the table back first, driving his body through it since Bruce moved at the very last split second to avoid the impact. Bruce quickly finds the barbwire wrapped bat and uses it to lean on as he rises back to his feet, blood dripping from his face and arm staining his jeans even further. He grabs the baseball bat with both hands and gets in a batting position while waiting for KOJI to get back on his feet. “Are we still on King?” Pete asks. “Yeah I can still hear you” King responds a bit disappointed. “Bruce isn’t going to… he can’t” Pete pleads as Bruce readies the bat. KOJI gets to his knees with several of Pete’s notes stuck to his back while Bruce pulls the bat back to hit KOJI across the back “NO DON’T DO IT!!” Pete screams as Bruce swings… And stops before he hits KOJI, he has noticed that one of the pieces of paper on KOJI’s back is the elusive document they’ve both been looking for through out the match. He quickly snatches it off the back of his opponent, places it on the apron and then pulls the blood soaked, bent remains of the quill out of his back pocket and writes “Bruce” in blood red letters across the bottom of the document. *WHAM!* A quick superkick knocks the quill out of Bruce’s hand before he can finish signing the paper, then KOJI quickly picks the quill up and writes “KOJI Kintao” on the document while the fans go nuts * DING*DING*DING*DING*DING*DING* YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!! “KOJI won the Hardcore title! This has to be an upset King” Pete says as the referee hands KOJI the Hardcore title and raises his hand in the air. “Waaaaaaaaaaait a minute” Bruce yells as he gets back to his feet. “I already signed my name on the paper I should have won” Bruce says to the referee in no uncertain terms. Referee Soapdish takes the document and looks at it, “It only says Bruce” he comments “What does it say after the name?” Bruce asks him “Well nothing… nada… it’s blank” Nick says “Exactly it’s “blank” – and what’s my name? Bruce Blank! I signed the document in full!” Bruce says with a smirk while Nick weights over the options. “He has a point Pete, I mean he did sign first” King says. “NOOOOO he can’t do this!! This isn’t right” Pete says despondently as Nick takes the title belt from KOJI and then hands it to Bruce Blank “Bruce signed his name first! He wins!” Nick declares. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! KOJI is livid over having the gold in his grasp and then snatched away but he doesn’t get much time to complain as Bruce swings the barbwire baseball bat at KOJI. The crowd gasp as the bat and sharp barbs makes contact with KOJI’s chest digging into it in several places. *WHACK!* “OH MY GOD!!” Pete screams in equal parts surprise and disgust as KOJI drops to the floor clutching his lacerated chest while screaming in pain Bruce ignores the chants as he raises the Hard- excuse me, the Ultra Violent title with his right arm and the Barbwire bat with his left to celebrate yet another successful title defense. ========================= SWF Storm, 10-21-05 A Riot Act Production ‘Pimping the Panda since 2000' =========================

The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents... SWF STORM, OCTOBER 21, 2005, LIVE FROM IN FRONT OF MOUNT RUSHMORE, WHICH I THINK IS IN SOUTH DAKOTA! (8:00 pm EST, 5:00 pm PST; check local listings) There will be a ring set up under George Washington's enormous head, and the fans will be rioting! It'll be like Richie Rich.. only, uh, not so much Macauley Culkin. SWF HARDCORE CHAMPIONSHIP HOUSE RULES: OUR FOUNDING FATHERS MATCH Bruce Blank (SWF Hardcore Champion) v. KOJI Kitano -> On Smarkdown, Blank fell hard to TORU Takahara, while KOJI got spanked in his bid to become Hardcore champion. Tonight on Storm, both men get a chance to redeem themselves, with interesting stipulations! Rules: On a pole in one corner of the ring, there is an old-fashioned quill. Mixed in with Longdogger Pete's notes is a replica of the United States Constitution... of course, Pete doesn't know this, and the wrestlers will be told that the Constitution is just 'somewhere near Mount Rushmore'. The first person to use the quill to sign the Constitution wins. SWF INTERNATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP HARDCORE MATCH Jay Hawke (SWF International Champion) v. Johnny Dangerous -> Three shows away from Ashes 2 Ashes, and Jay Hawke will get a pass on defending the International title there; he's too busy helping Landon Maddix with the tag belts. As a result, CC will be throwing two challengers at him in the next three shows, and tonight is the first, as Hawke takes on the man who beat him to win the first International championship, Johnny Dangerous. Rules: HARDCORE! HARDCORE MATCH "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins (SWF Championship #1 Contender) v. The Divine Wind -> Eh, Spike asked for it. I'm guessing he jobs again (for angle purposes), but we'll see. Rules: HARDCORE! HARDCORE MATCH Bill Fillmaff v. TORU Takahara (SWF Tag Team Beltholder) -> He's Bill Fillmaff! Rules: HARDCORE! <{POST_SNAPBACK}>

Pete: “Welcome back to another slam bang edition of Storm, and coming up next should be one for the ages. Jay Hawke defends the International Championship against the first man to hold that title … and the man who defeated Jay Hawke to win that title in the tournament … Johnny Dangerous.” King: “Jay Hawke against Johnny Dangerous? The finest technical wrestling in the SWF against the man who finally smartened up and separated himself from Wildchild? And with no rules? This one could be a lot of fun. But what is with all these weapons around ringside?” Pete: “Well, earlier tonight, our cameras caught Jay Hawke asking fellow Cucaracha Internacional members Landon Maddix and JJ Johnson to find anything that wasn’t nailed down and bring it to ringside, and that’s exactly what they and some members of our ring crew did during the commercial break.” King: “I get the tables, chairs, baseball bats, and chains … but what is with the table that has all the pots and pans on it?” Pete: “I’ve got a hunch there’s more out there than what we see.” King: “Very likely true, and we’ve been told that our ring crew is to give the two combatants any item that they ask for during this match. Some of these guys are training for potential SWF careers, and if they think handing somebody a chair or a pair of brass knuckles is going to get them their big break, you can bet they’re going to do it. Pete: “As for the combatants, these are two men with a lot of history, and it should be noted that Jay Hawke has never scored a one-on-one victory over Johnny Dangerous in his SWF career.” King: “Not in the tournament, not in their rematch after Hawke initially won the time…and until the recent tag team title change, not even in tag team action.” Pete: “If that continues tonight, we’ll have a new International Champion.” King: “Any chance of a time limit draw?” Pete: “Not likely, but let’s stop talking and start fighting. Let’s go to Funyon for the introductions!” Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a hardcore match, scheduled for one fall, and it is for the SWF International Championship! Introducing the challenger…” “Johnny Dangerous!” Suddenly, the lights dim, and a sultry female voice breathes the name of the SWF’s resident super-spy. “After The Flesh” by My Life With The Thrill Kill Cult begins to thump through the crowds. Smoke fills the stage as tons of strobes cut through it and Johnny Dangerous walks out onto center stage to a loud chorus of boos. Pete: “Remember when Johnny Dangerous was one of the most popular wrestlers on the roster?” King: “I was really trying to forget that, Pete, thank you so much.” Funyon: “…From Las Vegas, Nevada … weighing in at 217 pounds … ‘The Barracuda’ … JOHNNNNNNNNNNNNY … DANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGEROUUUUUUUUUUUUUS!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” The boos get even louder as Johnny Dangerous makes his way to the ring. Gone for good are the high fives for the fans. Gone is the kiss on the cheek for the cute females at ringside. This time, the Barracuda is all business as he makes his way to the ring without even acknowledging the huge crowd underneath George Washington’s head. Suddenly, the music changes to Pink Floyd’s “Learning to Fly” at the lights once again dim. Funyon: “And his opponent … from the Hall of Fame City of Cleveland, Ohio … weighing in at 215 pounds … he is one-half of the SWF World Tag Team Champions … and also the reigning and defending SWF International Champion … ‘The Dean of Professional Wrestling’ … JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY … HAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWKE!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Hawke makes his way to the ring, a lone spotlight reflecting off of his purple and black robe. Pete: “Who does the crowd cheer for in a match like this?” King: “Nobody. I think they’re just rooting for them to beat the hell out of each other.” Hawke makes his way to ringside, glancing around at the various weapons that are hanging around the ring. He smiles as he removes his robe, then he removes the title belt from around his waist. He stares at it for just a moment, then gives it a quick kiss before handing it to the ring crew member in charge of putting stuff where it’s supposed to go. Pete: “Hawke’s not even removing the belt in the ring.” King: “Which is smart. He doesn’t want to be vulnerable for a potential attack from Dangerous.” Pete: “But was he kissing that championship that he has held for over four months goodbye? We’ll soon find out.” Jay Hawke asks Scott Ryder to make sure Johnny Dangerous is back in a neutral corner, then enters the ring when Dangerous is back in the opposite half of the ring. The champion immediately charges, but The Barracuda is waiting for him, ducking down and backdropping the champion over the top rope to the arena floor. DING DING DING! “OHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Pete: “Jay Hawke takes the first big fall of the match before the bell even rings, and now the challenger is immediately heading out of the ring after him!” King: “One thing hasn’t changed about Johnny Dangerous. He’s ready to get that first cheap shot in as soon as he can!” The Barracuda catches Jay Hawke in the face with a couple of forearm strikes. He picks Hawke up as if he’s going to body slam him, but instead he drops Hawke face first onto the ring apron. Hawke rolls on the concrete floor holding his face, leaving his ribs vulnerable as he stands. Dangerous unleashes a series of martial arts kicks to the exposed ribs. Dangerous rams Hawke’s face into the apron, then rolls him into the ring. Before he follows the Dean of Wrestling in, Dangerous reaches behind one of the tables, pulling out a broom. He tosses the broom into the ring, then slides underneath the ropes, only for Hawke to catch him coming in with a series of stomps. King: “And there’s a crucial mistake. Dangerous decided he was better off going for a weapon than returning to the ring, and that gave Hawke a chance to recover his bearings.” Jay Hawke levels Dangerous with a couple of forearm smashes as the challenger stands, then goes for an Irish whip. Dangerous reverses, and he catches Hawke coming in with a dropkick on the rebound. The challenger immediately goes for what could be the title changing pin: ONE! TWO! THR -- kickout. Pete: “And Dangerous with the first near fall of the contest barely a minute in!” King: “It’s going to take a lot more than that to put the champion away! I like the strategy in theory, but it wasn’t very good in practice!” As the champion makes his way to his feet, the former Secret Agent kicks him in the midsection, then brings him down hard with a stiff DDT. Dangerous is quickly into another cover: ONE! TWO! Kickout. Undaunted, the challenger picks the Dean up off the canvas, only to take him down just as quickly with a standing vertical suplex. The Barracuda goes for another cover: ONE! TWO! Kickout. Pete: “Three near falls in the course of thirty seconds or so, and it’s clear that Johnny Dangerous has Jay Hawke’s number.” King: “And if Hawke’s not careful, he’ll prove himself to once again be a loser against Johnny Dangerous. Nobody has beaten Hawke as much as Dangerous has, and somehow Hawke just seems unable to make the proper adjustments to win the match!” Johnny Dangerous rolls underneath the bottom rope and looks underneath the ring. When he emerges, he is holding an aluminum garbage can, which he quickly hurls into the ring before sliding back in underneath the bottom rope. The challenger picks up the garbage can and waits for the groggy champion to stand… SMACK! “OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Pete: “What a shot!” King: “He dented the garbage can!” SMACK! “OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” SMACK! “OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Pete: “Three shots with the garbage can! Hawke is down, the can is almost flat…” King: “…and Dangerous is climbing up to the middle turnbuckle!” Johnny Dangerous leaps, the nearly flat garbage can underneath his left arm… SMACK! “OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Pete: “A flying trash can elbow drop!” King: “But that might have been a mistake! Dangerous is holding his left arm. He might have hurt himself with that high risk move!” Indeed, Dangerous keeps the arm dangled just a little bit to his side as he crawls over into a cover… ONE! TWO! T -- kickout. Pete: “Only a count of two, and you’re right, King. He hurt himself with that elbow drop, and that might have saved Hawke for the time being!” King: “And it might have weakened his arm for the Wing Span if Hawke can get enough of an advantage to lock it in!” Johnny Dangerous walks over to the broom he brought in earlier and grabs it, holding it up for the crowd as they buzz with anticipation. As Hawke gets to his feet, Dangerous swings, connecting with the wooden broomstick smacking across the side of Hawke’s face. Jay Hawke immediately rolls to the arena floor, clutching at his face as the Barracuda rolls out after him, still hanging onto the broom. King: “Jesus, I think he’s obsessed! You’d think Hawke owed him money or something with the way he’s going after him tonight!” Johnny Dangerous holds the broom with both hands, holding it perpendicular to his body. Then, as the champion turns around, he pushes it forward, catching Jay Hawke just underneath the throat with the wooden broomstick. Pete: “I’ve heard of trying to sweep someone off their feet, but this is ridiculous.” King: “Oh, funny. Why don’t you leave the comedy to the professionals, MacDougal?” Dangerous jabs the broomstick into Hawke’s midsection to double him over, then takes the champion down with a swinging neck breaker. He immediately goes into another cover: ONE! TWO! Kickout. Undaunted, Dangerous makes his way over to the nearest table and looks around, finally pulling out a weapon he likes. King: “Where the hell did they find a toilet seat?” Dangerous drives the toilet seat into Hawke’s head, and it remains hanging around the champion’s neck. Dangerous takes Hawke down with a roundhouse kick to the jaw, then immediately drops down for another cover: ONE! TWO! Kickout. King: “Tell me somebody found a kitchen sink just lying around in the back somewhere! That’s about the only thing that can make this any weirder!” Dangerous reaches into the ring and grabs the flattened garbage can, then slams it down onto a prone Dean of Wrestling’s head. Into another cover: ONE! TWO! TH -- kickout. Pete: “Another near fall, and Hawke has had virtually no offense against the challenger here tonight!” King: “Hardcore matches never were his strong suit, and he’s getting asked to defend the title outside of his element here! Of course he’s had very little offense!” As the champion struggles to make his way to his feet, the challenger is there to level him with a series of right hands. He holds Hawke, making damn sure he doesn’t fall down again, then whips him towards the corner. Hawke’s right shoulder smacks the ringpost as the Dean makes a sudden stop. Hawke clutches at his shoulder as Dangerous grabs the lid to the trash can… SMACK! “OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Dangerous drops the lid and heads over to yet another table. He looks around for just a second, but not seeing anything he wants to use, he simply brushes everything off the table until the table’s nearly empty. That delay gives Hawke just enough time to catch him with a forearm to the back, followed by an elbow to the back of the head. Hawke goes to ram Dangerous’ head into the table, but Johnny puts his hands out to block it, then rams Jay Hawke face-first into the table. The challenger places the Dean on the table, then hops up to the apron as the crowd begins to get to their feet. Pete: “What is he doing?” King: “Taking this one to the extreme!” Dangerous leaps, but Hawke lifts a boot, and Dangerous takes a shot into the face and crumples to the floor, barely missing the table on his way down. King: “Apparently that was an American table instead of a Spanish one.” Pete: “It’s still early enough in the match that I wouldn’t count on that.” A groggy champion covers his challenger, hoping the element of surprise will be enough to get the pinfall: ONE! TWO! Kickout. Apparently, the element of surprise means nothing when the only offense you’ve gotten in four minutes is a boot to the face. Pete: “The wrong time to go for the win in that situation.” King: “Worth a shot though. All it takes is three seconds to get the pinfall. You can’t blame a guy for trying.” Jay Hawke slowly makes his way to his feet, then looks around in confusion before finally grabbing a steel chair. The challenger has chosen that moment to stand up… THWACK! “OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” …and eat an aluminum chair. Pete: “What a shot!” King: “He hit him harder than Ike Turner smacking his bitches up!” Pete: “You’re trying to get as much in before Lockdown as you can, aren’t you?” King: “You got it!” Jay Hawke reaches into the pile of stuff Dangerous brushed off the table and pulls something out at random. He starts to swing, but he stops when he sees what he grabbed out of his peripheral vision. Pete: “A plastic fish?” King: “What is this, a hardcore match or a bad episode Babe Winkleman’s Good Fishing?” Pete: “There were good episodes of Babe Winkleman’s Good Fishing?” King: “Point taken.” Hawke stares at the toy for a moment, then shrugs his shoulders. He swings, catching the challenger in the back with what might be the oddest weapon ever used in a professional wrestling match. King: “I think he hit Johnny D just for the halibut. HAHAHA!” Pete: “Oh, that’s a riot.” King: “Well, Johnny has been floundering around out there for several minutes now!” Pete: “Will you stop?” As the Suicide King continues to make as many fishy puns as he can possibly think of, Jay Hawke looks around for another weapon, finally settling on yet another garbage can. He rams it into the skull of the Barracuda, who falls in a heap on the concrete floor. Hawke rolls Dangerous into the ring, then rolls in himself and goes for the pin: ONE! TWO! Kickout. King: “I don’t understand that. Why not just go for the cover on the floor and finish it off that way?” Pete: “Maybe he wants to prove to the world he can beat Dangerous one-on-one, and he wants to do it inside the ring where it matters.” King: “That’s got to be the Landon Maddix influence coming through.” Hawke catches Dangerous in the back of the head with a series of elbowsmashes, then pulls his challenger to his feet. Hawke whips Dangerous into the corner, and Dangerous hits the turnbuckle with such impact that he falls face-first to the mat. He instinctively rolls out of the ring, but the champion is quickly out to follow him. The Dean reaches down, trying to pull the Barracuda to his feet, but Johnny lifts his arm, catching the champion … um… shall we say, in a very sensitive area? King: “Now no man should ever touch another man there, even to gain the advantage in a title match!” Pete: “Anything goes, King.” King: “I know, but that one was too low even for me! Have some decency, man!” Johnny Dangerous walks over to the next table and begins throwing some random items into the ring. He then picks Hawke up and rolls him into the ring. Johnny Dangerous grabs one of the items and begins to head to the top rope. King: “What is in his hands?” … Pete: “It’s…” … Pete and King simultaneously: “A plastic Mr. T head!” Johnny Dangerous reaches the top rope and flies, leveling the International Champion in the head with the head of the oversized Mr. T action figure. The plastic head shatters upon impact, and the challenger immediately goes for the cover: ONE! TWO! THR -- kickout. Pete: “And only the count of two! Can you believe this?” King: “No. I mean, if a plastic Mr. T head can’t win you the championship, what can?” Thinking the result is simply a matter of hitting one big move, Johnny Dangerous is beginning yet another climb up the turnbuckle. Pete: “The challenger is going to the top rope again!” King: “You can tell there’s a lot of animosity between these two guys over the six or seven months they’ve fought over this title! I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen Dangerous go up to the top rope back-to-back like this!” Hawke tries to get to his feet, but he stumbles and falls into the ropes. The stumble is just enough to knock Dangerous off-balance, and the challenger lands crotch-first onto the top turnbuckle. Still staggering, Hawke begins to make his way to the top turnbuckle, weakening Dangerous with a series of forearms to the back as he does. He tries setting up for a superplex, but Dangerous blocks it with a shot to the ribs. Hawke goes for it again, but again Dangerous punches Hawke in the ribs to prevent the superplex. Hawke loses his grip just a little bit…and Dangerous gets his grip, lifting Hawke into the air, superplexing him off the turnbuckle… CRASH! “OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” …and sending both men crashing through the empty table on the arena floor. “HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT!” King: “If you disagree with that crowd, you can’t be human!” Pete: “If these two men get up, they can’t be human. How in the world do you survive a move like that?” King: “And I’ve never been one to say this, but that referee should stop the match! I want to see a clear winner as much as the next guy, but there’s no way two men can take a fall like that and continue…” Before King can finish his sentence, the Barracuda begins to pull himself out of the rubble. King: “…fighting…now how the hell is he doing that?” Pete: “That’s the heart of a champion! Both men have to be running on fumes after that superplex through a table on the floor, and somehow Johnny Dangerous is finding a way to his feet!” Dangerous pulls himself into the ring and tells the referee to count Hawke out, but Scott Ryder explains to him that there are no countouts on Storm. The comment falls on deaf ears though, as Dangerous is clearly a bit loopy. Pete: “He looks out on his feet.” King: “And he’s the one who executed the move. Imagine what the champion feels like at this point.” Hawke begins to stir, slowly making his way out of the rubble as Dangerous looks for something else … anything else … to put the champion away. He then sees the weapon he feels will finish the match off and asks a member of the ring crew to hand it to him… Pete: “He’s got a kendo stick!” King: “And here I was hoping somebody would use a stuffed Care Bear or something!” Kendo stick in hand, Johnny Dangerous holds it above his head, celebrating what he feels will be the match-winning shot. If only he was aware Jay Hawke was behind him… King: “Chop block!” Pete: “Indeed! Hawke just went downstairs to take Johnny Dangerous off of his feet, and that’s got the challenger down!” Sensing that won’t be enough to finish it off since he has yet to work on Dangerous’ knees in the contest, Hawke decides it’s time to weaken the knee. He grabs the leg and spins around until he locks the challenger into a textbook figure-four leglock. King: “I love it! Not only does he want that first-ever one-on-one victory against Dangerous, but he wants to get a submission out of it!” Pete: “I doubt Dangerous is going to submit to anything with a title on the line, but you’re right that Hawke would love nothing better but to get the victory right here!” Dangerous tries to turn over to reverse the pressure, but Hawke tightens the hold, and Johnny’s shoulders fall to the canvas: ONE! TWO! Shoulder up. Pete: “If Dangerous can’t find his way to the ropes in short order, Hawke could snap the leg with this hold!” King: “Exactly! We’ll be serving broken barracuda legs in catering tomorrow night!” Pete: “Barracudas don’t have legs.” King: “You have to ruin perfectly good color commentary, don’t you?” Johnny Dangerous reaches back behind him and grabs the ropes, and referee Scott Ryder implores Hawke to break the hold. Hawke smiles, knowing that he can’t be disqualified, so he continues to maintain the pressure. King: “Beautiful! There’s nothing the referee can do about it, and if Dangerous taps out right here, the submission still counts!” Ryder continues to ask for a break, but the Dean steadfastly refuses. Ryder then reaches down and pulls Jay Hawke by the hair until he releases the hold, drawing a roar of approval from the capacity crowd. King: “HE CAN’T DO THAT!” Pete: “I agree, a referee can’t touch a wrestler like that, particularly with no holds barred!” Jay Hawke shoves the referee, who backs up a few steps. The referee retaliates out of instinct, shoving Hawke back but doing nothing of note with it. Hawke reaches out and angrily grabs Ryder by the collar of his shirt. Pete: “We’ve got a problem here.” King: “A problem that the referee caused!” Realizing that, justified or not, doing what he wants to do to the referee is likely costing him a whole lot of money, Jay Hawke turns around, unaware that Johnny Dangerous has made his way to his feet… SMACK! “OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Pete: “Johnny Kick out of nowhere!” King: “Hawke’s only saving grace right there is the work he did to the knee with the figure-four! Johnny stood on the bad leg to shoot off that kick, and as a result, he doesn’t have enough left in him to cover the champion and take the title!” Dangerous uses the ropes to pull himself to his feet. He sees Hawke making his way to his feet, conveniently with his back to him. As Hawke stands, Johnny Dangerous moves in from behind… …and he connects with…. Pete: “The MI Slam! A new champion to be crowned!” King: “The four-month reign of Jay Hawke is over with!” Johnny Dangerous starts to make his way for the cover… “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” …but the sudden cheer of the crowd has caught his attention. Pete: “And look at this! Wildchild has made his way to ringside!” King: “What is he doing out there?” Wildchild stops at the top of the ramp, eyeing his former partner the entire time. Dangerous walks over to the ropes and points at his opponent, yelling out, “I’m going to take him down one more time, just to give you a little preview of what’s going to happen to you at Ashes 2 Ashes!” Pete: “One more MI Slam?” King: “He wants to send Wildchild a message, and I can’t really blame him!” Giving Wildchild one final evil glare, Johnny Dangerous turns around, only to see the International Championship belt come flying at his head. CLUNK! The crowd gives off a mixed reaction as Jay Hawke drops the title belt on the mat and covers: ONE! TWO! THREE! DING DING DING! King: “He did it! After who knows how many matches, Jay Hawke has finally gotten that one-on-one victory over Johnny Dangerous!” Pete: “Thanks to the distraction of Wildchild!” King: “Who cares how he got it? He won!” Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen, in 12 minutes 51 seconds … the winner and still SWF International Champion … JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY HAWWWWWWWWWWWKE!” Pete: “Wildchild’s distraction caused Dangerous to look away, but we need to see a replay of exactly what went down!” A replay from the reverse angle shows Dangerous yelling toward the camera as Hawke crawls toward the ropes. One of the ring crew, at Hawke’s request, tosses him the title belt, and Hawke grabs it and slowly begins to stand as we cut back live. King: “We said it earlier. The ring crew was instructed to hand the wrestlers any item they saw fit, and Hawke asked for the very title belt they were fighting for. Dangerous wanted it? He got it.” Johnny Dangerous finally wakes up and looks toward the aisle, but Wildchild is no longer there. Pete: “All that does is add fuel to the fire for Ashes 2 Ashes. And all that does for us is set up the Hardcore Championship match. It’s next!”

As Landon Maddix enters the Cucaracha Internacional locker room, he sees Jay Hawke sitting on a bench staring at the International Championship belt. He takes a seat next to the champion, who retains his gaze on the belt as if he's in a trance. Maddix: "So." Hawke: "Hey Landon." Maddix: "You alright. You seem...not yourself." Hawke: "You know, you'd think that as much as I sacrifice my body to make this belt mean something that they'd cut me a break. But not only do I get forced to defend my title with four days notice against a man I can't seem to beat in singles action, but they give me hardcore rules to boot?" Maddix: "That's the nature of the beast. You've won plenty of matches on Storm in your career." Hawke: "True. Still, it doesn't matter how good I am tonight. One shot with a steel chair, and this title could go to Johnny Dangerous. I mean, the guy who nearly single-handedly brought the credibility of the World Title to uncharted depths? I'd rather die than lose this belt to him, especially like that." Maddix: "So what do you want to do?" Hawke: "Simple. Find JJ, grab any member of the ring crew you can find, and grab any weapon you can find. I mean anything. If it's not nailed down, grab it. Make sure the ring crew brings them down to the ring before my match." Maddix: "You got it." As Landon Maddix leaves, Jay Hawke takes another look at the title belt. His title belt. Hawke: "They want hardcore? They'll get hardcore!"

A black and white video is showed out of George Washingtons mouth. Happy wonderful victorious music, showing Spike defeating Tom Flesher at Genesis … the music then has a sudden turn of EVILNESS and shows KOJI getting the win over Spike. The video then switches over to Bruce Blank hitting the Blank Bomb on Spike. Spike has a look of awe. BAM Funyon starts to say something, but is drowned out by the loud twang of metal guitars. “AHHHHHHHHHH” ‘Hollywood’ Spike Jenkins comes through the curtains, sporting a new t-shirt, makes his way down the ramp. Spike runs around the ring, high-fiving the crowd. He runs into a cameraman, and makes a big X with his hands. And then casually slides into the ring. The music stops. Akira Kaibatsu saunters out of the curtains, with his manager and friend Mr. Kobe, who is holding a trash can of weapons. Pete: On Akira’s storm debut he couldn’t beat pick up a win, so he’s trying a new approach I guess . . . King: Well, BOTH these guys lost to the hardcore champ, so who the hell wins this one? Pete: To be fair, both guys are technical wrestlers. Mr. Kobe hands Akira the trash can, and Akira pulls out the lid. Akira holds it by the lid by the handle, and examines it. He then offers it to Spike, who rejects it. Akira shrugs a shoulder and knocks Spike in the head with the lid, and makes a quick cover. 1 2 Spike throws his opponent off him, but Akira is standing, waiting for Spike, and this Hollywood with a belly to belly.suplex, followed by another quick cover. 1 2 Spike roughly shoves Akira off him, and slams the mat with his hand in disappointment. He turns around to face The Divine Wind, but there’s not much to look at, as Akira attempts a Shining Gamenguri! Pete: going for it all, early! Spike moves out of the way though, and Akira lands on his ass. Spike gets right up, and nails a big kick to the chest of Akira, sending him flying into his trashcan, sending it out of the ring. King: Both men are hitting big moves early in the match up. I think we can expect a quick finish. Spike goes over to Akira, and lifts him by the mask. Hollywood hits a European uppercut on Akira, and then another one. Another. Spike then throws Akira into the ropes, Akira bounces back, Spike ducks his head and hits attempts a back body drop, but Akira manages to land on his feet in the flip! Akira then turns all the way around and hits a kick to the face of Spike. Akira goes for another quick cover, hooking the leg this time. 1 2 No. Hollywood kicks out with ease. Spike gets up, and wipes some sweat from his face, and approaches the Divine Wind. The two lock up, collar and elbow style. King: A tech sequence? . . .on Storm? Akira gets the better of the hold, grabs Spike’s arm with both hands, and twists over to the back, putting in a hammer lock. Spike has a slight grimace on his face, but uses his strength over Akira; buy flipping Akira over his shoulder with the arm for a Judo throw, but still holding on to the arm. Applying a seated hammer lock. “BOOOO-RIIING” “BOOOO=RIIING” King: The storm crowd isn’t exactly fond of chain wrestling I see. Pete: Well if they were they’d go to Smarkdown, now wouldn’t they? Akira throws elbows blindly behind his head, hoping they land on Spike in attempt to break the hold. The 3rd one nails the arm of Spike, breaking it. Akira gets right on the offensive, hitting an arm drag, holding on to the arm, for an arm bar. Before any damage can be done, Hollywood scurries to the ropes, and Akira lets go. Jenkins then gets out of the ring, and gets a breather. Spike climbs back I the ring, and Akira tries to meet him with a Lariat, but Spike ducks, and hits a huge chop to the back of Kaibatsu, sending him to the floor. King: Stiiiiif chop from the Number one contender there. Spike picks up Akira by the mask, and hits a big STO on the Divine Wind. Swift cover 1 2 No, Akira kicks out. Spike is in a hurry to stay on the offensive, and picks Akira right back up. Spike hits a sharp toe kick to the gut of Kaibatsu, and then runs to the ropes, bounces off . . . *THWACK* Pete: Big Lariat from Spike! Cover! 1 2 THNO, Akira rolls the shoulder up. Spike is still looking for a quick win though, so he lifts Akira up by the mask, and sets him up for another STO, but drops to the ground on his knees. King: Spike calls that “The Minor Threat”. That could legitimately take a guy out of action with a bruised larynx. Could pick up a win here. Spike, hooking the leg 1 2 THRNOO! Akira rolls the shoulder up again. Spike, yet to be disappointed in this sequence. Lifts up Akira by the mask again. Akira punches Spikes stomach, but Hollywood just clubs forearms at Kaibatsu, ending any chance at momentum. Spike wrenches Kaibatsu’s arm, and then hits a modified Stroke, but holds on to the arm. Hollywood wraps Akira’s arm behind his head, putting in the Strong Island Stretch! Akira is only inches from the ropes though. Can he get there? “AHHHH” Akira reaches, and he reaches, and he reaches. “BWUHHHH” And he reaches, and he reaches. “FWAHHH” And he reaches. And he makes it! Nick Sopadish motions for Spike to let go of the hold. Akira doesn’t have the strength after that to get up, so he simply rests on the bottom rope. Spike isn’t waiting for anything though, so he runs into Akira and hits a huge Yakuza kick, sending Kaibatsu to the outside! Mr. Kobe runs to Akira to regroup him, while Spike taunts the crowd from in the ring. Kobe rubs Akira’s bald head, and throws his pal into the ring, as deuling chants erupt. KAI-BAT-SU! HOL-LY-WOOD Akira didn’t enter the ring alone though, he brought a chair with him! *SMACK* Pete: A Huge chair shot there from Akira! Hooking the leg . . . 1 2 THRNOSHOULDER. Akira is quick to get on the offensive again, as he picks Spike up by the hair. Kaibatsu lifts him up for a suplex . . . and then drops him hard down on his knee! Goes for another cover . . . 1 2 THRNOROLLEDITUP. Pete:Akira is on a sequence similar to Spike’s a while ago, where he isn’t exactly thinking his moves out, just busting whatever he thinks he needs to win the match. King: And that’s never the way to go with it. Focus on a body part. Target it. Weaken it. Win it. Akira goes to the ring apron, as Spike begins to get up. Spike is almost to his feet, when you see Akira flying out of the bottom left hand corner of your screen, for a springboard front dropkick! Akira goes for a cover, hooking the legs! Pete: Gotta be it . . . 1 2 THRENOO! Akira is finally showing some anger, and picks up Spike by the hair. Akira hits a big knife edge chop. “WHOOOO” Chop! “WHOOO” “WHOOO” “WHOOO” Akira tries another chop, but Spike ducks under it, and goes for Clean Living! Spike starts to spin . . . “HEY HEY!” *BOOM* Pete: ELM, interfering in this match? Just as the music, and Pete predicted, El Luchadore Magnifico walks down the ramp, and Spike Jenkins is livid. He’s stopped paying attention to his opponent completely. King: Well he’s obviously just down for a little scouting, I mean, he’s the champ! He’s gotta be ready! Spike Jenkins gets one last word in, before turning back around . . . to see Akira standing ready for him! Akira puts in a cravate, runs up the turnbuckle, and backflips. Pete: The Divine Wind! Akira makes the cover! 1 Pete: The losing streak has gotta end! 2 Pete: Not like this! 3!! King: ah, a great Mags plan, falling together. Akira is in the middle of the ring, helping Spike get up, as ELM shoes the scene, quickly and swiftly. Spike thanks Akira for helping him up, but only half heartedly. After all, he lost the match. Spike begins to leave, but Akira taps him on the shoulder, halting him. The Divine Wind extands his hand. Spike has a smile on his face, and holds his hand out too, and they greet each other. FADE OUT.

Back at Cucaracha Internacional's locker room and it's another big night for part of the trio. Jay Hawke is busy lacing up his boots with his International Title defence mere minutes away, while JJ Johnson is making the most of his night off and taking the chance to relax. That is, until the locker room door bursts open and the third third of the team, Landon Maddix, enters the room with a beaming smile from ear to ear washed over his face. "What do you look so happy about?" asks Hawke glumly. "What's not to be happy about, Jay? We're in beautiful, majestic South Dakota. The people here LOVE me!" Maddix beams. "Honestly. Me. Loved. Who'd'a thunk it. Plus, I've got Max King out of my hair for the next month. And, best of all, by the end of the night you are once again going to have two shiny belts weighing down your bags." Hawke looks confused, as Maddix smiles. "You mean..." "That's right...I've come up with a plan." "A good one?" Hawke questions, looking a little unconvinced. "Of course a good one!" Maddix doesn't look best pleased that he's being doubted and sits down, folding his arms and kicking his legs up onto the coffee table in front of him. Exchanging a glance, JJ and Jay sigh. "So...what is it?" "Oh, there's no need for you to worry about that." replies Maddix flippantly as he stands back up. "Listen, you've got your business to deal with. Tonight, I want you to make sure you're focused on Johnny Dangerous and only Johnny Dangerous. I mean yeah, he still sucks, but it's better to be safe than sorry when it comes to championship gold. You just leave the planning to me. Well...me and JJ, at least. I'm gonna need a little help." JJ nods (coz he can't speak, remember, lozl) as Maddix motions for him to 'come with me'...perhaps not realising that mutes can't speak but don't need to be spoken to through sign language. "Are you sure about this? Wouldn't it be better if I were there too?" asks Jay again, to a sigh from Landon. "Honestly, there's no need. It's all under control. You just do some stretches or something and by the time you've dealt with the world's slowest heel turner, we'll be back with ¡¡los títulos!!" "Los títawhat?" "Los títulos!" Hawke stares blankly at Maddix. "The titles..." "Oohhhh." "...yeah, oh. C'mon JJ, let's go. I'll explain on the way." And with that, Maddix and JJ leave on their quest to retrieve the World Tag Team Title belts. Leaving Jay Hawke in the locker room, still not looking totally convinced that Maddix's plan will work as he picks up his International Title and grabs a tin of polish beside him.

“Welcome back to Storm SWF fans,” Pete greets the audience, “and after those slightly indecipherable words from our Hardcore Champion we have our opening match of the night; featuring, I might add, the man who beat him on Smarkdown!” “Indeed we do, Dogger,” King confirms. “And you know who else is in this match?” “The greatest person to ever come from Las Vegas?” Pete says snidely. “Shut up.” Before the announcers get any further some unidentifiable music starts up, probably called ‘You Know I Got Game’ or something equally cringe-worthy. The skinny, shade-wearing figure of the SWF’s newest arrival steps out onto the makeshift entrance ramp and proceeds to swagger towards the ring. He is followed by an even skinnier and stupider-looking man wearing a ‘FILLMAFF = TEH WINNER!’ T-shirt. “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall and will be contested under HARDCORE RULES~!” Funyon bellows. “Introducing first, accompanied to the ring by Steve the Helper; from Las Vegas, Nevada, he weighs in tonight at 160lbs; this is the Worldwide Poker Champion… BIIIILLLLLLLLL… FIIIILLLLLL-MAAAAAAAFFFFFFF!!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Hey King, do you think this guy knows a King beats a Jackass?” Pete queries, nudging his commentary partner. “I told you to shut up.” Fillmaff is pointing and laughing at Funyon for having to specify that Las Vegas is in Nevada - I mean, how many other Las Vegases are there? - and doesn’t seem to have noticed that the crowd have decided they hate him. Not that he’d probably care, mind you. However, what he does notice is when the lights drop down and three letters start to flash up on the huge, portable Smarktron: T K O “YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “You know King, it probably says something for the nature of the SWF when, pretty much week in and week out, a kleptomaniac Japanese man with a complete disregard for the rules gets cheered over his opponents,” Pete says as the harsh drums and stark riffs of ‘Teethgrinder’ by Therapy? kick up over the PA system. “Yeah, it shows the humanoids are starting to develop a healthy respect for cheaters,” King counters. “They used to like Landon, too.” “Liking Landon is never healthy. Just look at what happened to Megan Skye.” As the two commentators bicker the familiar trenchcoated figure of TORU Takahara appears, complete with stolen Tag Title over one shoulder. Chris Card and Natasha are flanking him, but as he catches sight of his opponent TORU stops and actually removes his shades to stare in disbelief at the scrawny runt that awaits him. For a second the Japanese Hammer seems completely perplexed, but then he bursts into laughter and removes his coat, then hands coat, belt and shades to Card and motions for Technical Perfection and the Gothic Bitch to head back to the locker room. “And his opponent,” Funyon states as TORU makes his way down the ramp on his own, “no longer accompanied to the ring by Chris Card Enterprises; from Saitama Prefecture, Japan, he weighs in tonight at 264lbs; this is the ‘Japanese Hammer’, TOOOOOOORRRR-RRRRRRRUUUUUUU… TAKA-HAARRRRRR-RRRRAAAAAA!!” ‘TEETHGRINDER! (In my sleep I grind my teeth…)’ TORU is still shaking his head in amused disbelief as he hops athletically over the ropes and even seems to be asking Brian Warner if he’s sure that this is the right opponent. Warner nods his head and TORU shrugs… but Bill Fillmaff jumps him from behind! *DING-DING-DING!* Not that it does him any good, mind you. “OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” The crowd collectively gasp as TORU barely flinches under the assault, then turns around to glare at his opponent. Fillmaff stares up at him but then balls up the fist, reaches way back, and asserts himself… “OW!” The Worldwide Poker Champion clutches at his hand as it impacts on TORU’s jaw without any visible effect. Takahara doesn’t seem offended; in fact the Japanese Hammer places a friendly hand on his opponent’s shoulder, then points to the ropes. Fillmaff takes a moment to catch on but then runs for the cables and even manages to bounce off them reasonably effectively before coming back with the ‘Bullets’ lariat… *whump* …and almost falls to the floor as his right arm ricochets off his opponent’s muscular chest. TORU takes a half step back but otherwise makes no other movement, then reaches down to catch Bill under one arm and bring him gently up to his feet. The Worldwide Poker Champion is looking a little flustered and his shades have definitely been knocked slightly askew, but otherwise he seems fine. Takahara continues to make sure that his opponent hasn’t suffered any unfortunate side-effects from that failed lariat… *CRUNCH!* …then buries his knee deep into Fillmaff’s gut. “YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “T!K!O!” “T!K!O!” Bill Fillmaff falls to the canvas, clutching at his stomach and desperately gasping for breath. Nothing seems to be coming however, even as TORU uses one foot to turn him over onto his back and covers with it… ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! “Bill Fillmaff just mustering the strength to kick out there,” Pete notes, “and I have a feeling that this match won’t last for long, King.” “I’m praying it doesn’t,” the Gambling Man replies, “I’ve got a few grand to win off Fillmaff after the show, and he has to be able to at least hold the cards to give it some sense of legitimacy.” TORU seems at least vaguely surprised that Fillmaff kicked - well, gasped - out of the pin, but his attention is quickly diverted as Steve the Helper realises that his services are required and rushes the ring. Steve jumps onto TORU’s back and grabs him around the neck, but after a brief moment of discomfort the bigger man simply reaches backwards to grab the new arrival’s head, then bends forward and flips him onto Fillmaff! “OOOFFFF!” “Of course, Steve the Helper’s interference is completely legal under these hardcore rules,” Longdogger Pete explains. “A shame it didn’t help Bill Fillmaff, really…” TORU appears to be considering pinning Fillmaff again, but he decides against it and instead boots Steve out of the ring, then grabs the Poker King and hauls him upright. Fillmaff seems to be having trouble breathing as TORU keeps him standing by virtue of one hand under his shirt collar but Takahara appears to have some difficulty deciding to do next. The Japanese Hammer idly reaches out and delivers a couple of desultory slaps to his opponent’s face, seeing if he can spark a reaction, but Fillmaff just flops limply from side to side. TORU shrugs and applies an arm wringer with a preoccupied air… but suddenly Fillmaff rolls forward onto his back, releasing the tension! “Did he do that?” King asks in surprise. “…I’m not sure,” Pete admits. If he did, Fillmaff isn’t following up very well. TORU looks down at him, sighs… and reaches down to grab one of Bill’s legs, crooks it, and then wrenches on both arm and leg to make his opponent perform something that could in some circumstances be mistaken for a kip-up! “No, it seems TORU’s just having a little fun,” Pete amends. Fillmaff finds himself back on his feet, although he doesn’t seem very certain how he got there. Well aware that he should probably be doing something to the big Japanese man currently holding him up by his arm Fillmaff swings desperately with his right fist, again connecting with TORU’s jaw… and this time the big man staggers back! “What in the world…?” Pete asks. Careful observers will notice that although TORU is staggering, he is still supporting the flailing Fillmaff. Bill isn’t that careful an observer though and thinks he’s doing something right, so he lashes out again with a similar result, ‘forcing’ TORU back onto the ropes. From there Fillmaff seems content to lean and suck in air, but the Japanese Hammer isn’t having any of it and pushes his opponent away. Unfortunately for him Fillmaff ‘Irish whips’ him towards the far ropes (although it looks suspiciously like TORU running past his opponent under his own steam), but the big man then rebounds off and flattens the Poker King with a shoulderblock! From there TORU turns and hits the ropes again… but Fillmaff is still down in the centre of the ring and hasn’t moved. TORU comes to a halt with an expression that clearly says ‘do I have to do everything myself?’ and turns Fillmaff over onto his front, where any good wrestler would have rolled to. The Japanese Hammer then goes back to the ropes with his opponent in the correct position and bounces off again, this time hurdling the prostrate poker player! “Well, this is… unique,” King comments. The trouble is, TORU has now found himself with a new problem; namely, Fillmaff is on his front and can’t get up. The big man reaches down and raises his opponent to a kneeling position, then steps over one of Fillmaff’s arms and turns his back on the man from Vegas, before suddenly tumbling over backwards and pulling Fillmaff on top of him! “Schoolboy pin from Fillmaff!” Pete shouts, entering into the spirit of the thing. ONE! TWO! …but TORU kicks out before the confused Brian Hebner can count to three! “I haven’t seen a schoolboy pin that good since Owen Hart vs. Steve Austin,” King remarks. “T!K!O!” “T!K!O!” Both men come up - well, TORU gets to his knees and then pulls Fillmaff up - before the smaller man ‘hooks TORU up’ and ‘rolls backwards’ with a small package! ONE! TWO!! …but TORU kicks out again (honestly, were you surprised?). This time Fillmaff seems almost able to get back up of his own accord, but TORU slaps him in the face hard enough to knock most of what little brains the gambler has clean out of his head, then pulls him to his feet and whips Fillmaff into the ropes. Bill rebounds and staggers, vaguely upright, but at he approaches TORU the big man scoops him up into a fallaway slam position… then, with some ceremony, topples backwards! “Crossbody by Fillmaff!” King calls, figuring he may as well get some enjoyment out of this. ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHHHH- -no. Not really. “Near fall by Fillmaff in his first SWF match,” Pete comments, taking a swig of PepsiMax. “Yeah. The new guy’s really making an impact,” the REAL~ Gambling Man replies, stuffing some nachos into his mouth. Something in Fillmaff’s brain seems to spark. He on top of his opponent, and he knows you’re meant to win by pinning. So he tries to hook the leg… ONE! TW- -but TORU kicks out so violently the 160lb weakling is flung three foot off the cover! “Well, I guess TORU feels quite strongly about people not playing by his rules,” Pete comments. Fillmaff looks up, clearly trying to work out what is going on here. He was on top of his opponent, and then the world moved suddenly, and now there’s a stinging pain in his knees and elbows and there’s no TORU underneath him anymore… The confused gambler looks around to see Takahara coil his legs under his chin, and then kip up explosively with agility surprising in a man who weighs 264lbs! “YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “T!K!O!” “T!K!O!” TORU comes striding towards Fillmaff and raises one leg, ready to drop a crushing knee to the back of the head… but Fillmaff rolls away! However TORU was only feinting, and he takes the extra two steps to catch up with his opponent before this time dropping the knee, right onto the back of the gambler’s skull! *CRUNCH!* “Yeowch,” Pete says uninterestedly. “That’s gotta hurt more than having a three-inch penis and being called Ted.” “You got that one right,” King replies, shaking his head sadly. Bill Fillmaff might be clinically dead at this point; the third most talented athlete from Las Vegas in the history of the SWF certainly isn’t moving apart from when TORU rolls him onto his back and leans down to make a lateral press… ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHRRRRR- -but Bill Fillmaff kicks out with enough force to send TORU Takahara flying! “What-” “He jumped, Pete,” King stops the Longdogger in midcall. “Fillmaff never moved a muscle; TORU just jumped.” TORU stares around with an expression of mock astonishment, then points a finger at Fillmaff and waggles it menacingly. The Japanese Hammer gets back to his feet and walks over to where his opponent lies prostrate on his back before reaching down and hauling said opponent to his feet. The big man then scoops Fillmaff up under one arm, turns on the spot to show the middle finger of his other hand to all four corners of the arena… then drops Bill Fillmaff over one knee with a pendulum backbreaker. “FILL-MAFF SUCKS!” “FILL-MAFF SUCKS!” There’s barely enough life in Bill Fillmaff to even register the pain, so TORU leaves him on his back and turns to head for the corner of the ring. Once there the Japanese Hammer begins to mount the turnbuckles until he reaches the top rope, then points at Fillmaff once more and leaps off… *BANG!!* …to drive his knee into Bill Fillmaff’s head with the TORU Hammer! Once more the ‘T’ in TKO makes the cover… ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH- -but only gets a two, as a kickout occurs that looks very suspiciously like TORU pulling Fillmaff’s shoulder off the canvas! In a bizarre reversal of usual events it is referee Brian Warner pleading with TORU that it was a three, but Takahara remains adamant that his opponent kicked out and that the match should continue. “You know, technically I guess Warner could stop this match through Fillmaff being unfit to compete,” Pete says. “That never stopped Landon.” “BURN~!” TORU goes to pick Fillmaff up again… and stops. It appears to have just occurred to the big man that this match is a Hardcore match, and once this epiphany has taken place Takahara wastes no time in heading outside and searching under the ring for a suitable weapon. “Umm, TORU - you don’t need a weapon,” King points out. “King, I’ve visited this guy Fillmaff’s website. He claims to be the King of Vegas.” “What, you mean Max ‘King’ wasn’t enough, now I have to deal with this prick pulling gimmick infringement as well?” the Gambling Man complains. “Go ahead TORU, you waste the bastard!” TORU seems to have found what he’s after, and the Japanese Hammer pulls it out with a pleased expression - several metres of white rope. With a happy smile on his face TORU rolls back into the ring and grabs Fillmaff, but in a sudden and shocking reversal the gambler appears to confuse his opponent into turning around, then ‘grabs’ the ropes in both hands and throws it around TORU’s throat before falling backwards - that at least was convincing - and pulling the rope tight in a vicious chokehold. “Wow, I guess TORU’s finding it hard to breathe,” King says as the man from Saitama Prefecture thrashes around, although not too hard in case he dislodges the rope from his opponent’s lifeless fingers. “Yes, the oxygen to his brain is clearly limited,” Pete chips in with expert analysis, “I can see him going purple from here.” “Pete, that’s his trunks.” “Ah, right. Sorry.” After about half a minute of completely unconvincing throttling TORU gets back to his feet, making sure to bring Fillmaff and his unlikely chokehold with him. The big man then walks to the corner of the ring, supporting his opponent all the way, before carefully lifting and placing Fillmaff in a seated position on the top buckle. As the gambler sways alarmingly TORU wraps the rope around his neck and ties it, before lifting Fillmaff’s foot and pretending to be kicked in the face. Takahara staggers back and falls to the mat, although one end of the rope is still in his fist… “It looks like Bill Fillmaff might be going for the ‘Flop A Straight’, which I believe is a splash off the top ropes,” Pete comments. “This could be devastating. Totally devastating.” “Yes, I dread to think what might happen to TORU when a full 160lbs lands flush on top of him,” King agrees. “Didn’t that hooker in your hotel room last night weigh about that? And was that a diving board I saw her carrying?” “I thought I told you to shut up?” With commentary bicker showing that no matter how bizarre the match some things never change, TORU hauls on the rope and drags Fillmaff off the top rope in a crude imitation of a body splash… but he gets his knees up! *WHAM!* If Bill Fillmaff was still capable of registering pain he would probably roll away clutching his abdomen. As it is he rolls off TORU with no more than a blank expression and a blast of discharged breath. TORU sighs, apparently deciding that enough is enough and it’s time to end this farce, but at the Japanese Hammer gets up to his knees Steve the Helper suddenly appears with a chair in his hand and waffles the big man from behind! *CRACK!* TORU falls forward onto his hands and Steve does a celebratory victory dance, waving the chair overhead… but he doesn’t notice TORU getting up to his feet and holding the back of his head! “YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Steve turns back around to find TORU waiting for him, and this time the Japanese Hammer snatches the seating aid from his skinny antagonist before pie-facing him out through the ring ropes! “T!K!O!” “T!K!O!” TORU looks slightly less amused now, and he drops the steel chair unceremoniously in the centre of the ring before grabbing Fillmaff and dragging him to his feet. The Japanese Hammer then bends his opponent over and places him in a double underhook… “Tiger Driver coming up!” Pete shouts. “Onto the chair?” King asks, not sounding entirely displeased with the idea… but once more Steve the Helper enters the ring, this time holding a fire extinguisher! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” TORU hears the boos and turns around, releasing his grip on Fillmaff as he does so, but Steve does something right for once as he raises his hand and fires! *FFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!* “Steve the Helper just engulfed TORU Takahara in a mass of white substance that he discharged through his horn!” Pete yells. “Who do you think you are, Bobby Riley?” King yelps in response. However, gay innuendo aside, TORU is certainly blinded. The Japanese Hammer has released his grip on Fillmaff and is stumbling blindly with hands outstretched. The incredibly skinny Steve takes a firm grip on his heavy weapon and waits for the right moment… then swings the canister into TORU’s gut! “OOOFFFF!” The big man doubles over, but Steve has enough strength left for one more swing, this one aimed at TORU’s head! *THUNK!* “-and TORU Takahara is down!” Pete yells. The Longdogger has called it correctly, and Brian Warner is powerless to stop the interference (even if he wanted to). Steve the Helper’s victory dance is both justified and shorter this time, as the hero-worshipping gimp quickly sees the opportunity and grabs Bill Fillmaff to drag the gambler on top of TORU for the pin… ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR- -but TORU kicks out! “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” The fans are happy that the Japanese Hammer didn’t fall to that bout of skull percussion, but Steve is distraught. He hastily drags Fillmaff out of the way, then grabs his trusty fire extinguisher and raises it high… *CHING!* …but TORU slams his leg up into Steve’s happy-happy-joy-joy area! The fire extinguisher drops from nerveless hands, straight onto Steve’s foot as chance would have it. *CRUNCH!* “YEEEOOOOWWW!” With his balls on fire and his foot well and truly mangled the trusty helper tries to stagger away, but TORU is pushing himself to his feet and the Japanese Hammer has had enough of playing around. He grabs Steve and double-underhooks his arms, then wrenches him up high… *WHAM!* “Tiger Driver onto Bill Fillmaff!” Pete winces as Steve comes crashing down on top of his idol. “T!K!O!” “T!K!O!” TORU casually places one foot on Steve’s chest, thereby pinning Fillmaff underneath, and leans down to give both men the bird… ONE! TWO? THREE. *DING-DING-DING!* “Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner,” Funyon booms, “TOOOOORRRRRRRRRR-RRRRRUUUUUUUU… TAKA-HAAAAARRRRRR-RRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAA!!” “Well fans, that’s it for our opening match,” Pete says as TORU raises one arm before spitting on Steve and Bill Fillmaff. “King, do you suppose that exhibitions like this will dissuade idiots like Fillmaff from joining the SWF?” “We can only hope,” the Gambling Man agrees. “Maybe next time TORU can persuade Frisco that Candace isn’t worth managing, and to bring back Carnage. I quite liked Carnage.” “We shall see,” Pete replies sagely. “In the meantime fans, don’t go away because we’ll be right back after this commercial break!” The last shot we see is of TORU walking back up the ramp and being greeted by Chris Card and Natasha with the stolen Tag Title as we FADE OUT

The fireworks ignite to welcome everyone to a makeshift platform erected (snigger) right under the head of George Washington. SWF coming to you live from Mount Rushmore: Storm where there are no rules *BOM!* *BOM!* *BOM!* *BAP*BAP*BAP*BAP*BAP*BAP*BAP*BAP*BAP*BAP*BAP* *BOOOOOM* YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!! ”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” BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! The small and intimate crowd gathered in front of Mount Rushmore immediately starts to boo as Lynyrd Skynyrd hails the entrance of Bruce Blank, the trailerpark superstar who’s become extremely unpopular really, really fast. “He’s not scheduled until later King, or are we going to see Bruce against KOJI Kitano right now?” Pete asks. “Well if you’d shut up and be patient I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.” King responds. ”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” Bruce steps through the curtains from the back and the negativity in the arena is turned up to 11. Bruce just smirks as he stands there, dirty, crumpled cowboy hat on his head, light, well worn jeans with several dark red splotches all over them and the Hardcore title around his waist. The camera zooms in to confirm that it IS indeed bloodstains on Bruce’s jeans and that the Hardcore title has barbwire strands loosely wrapped around the strap parts on both sides of the face plate. ”Well its 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” Bruce raises his right hand to reveal a barbwire wrapped bat as he walks towards the ring, a heavy chain about 4 feet long dangles from the other adding to the already menacing appearance of the 295 pound monster from Mobile. ”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” Bruce steps through the ropes and then takes a swing at Ben Hardy with the chain, Fortunately for the big man Bruce is just trying to chase him out of the ring and not beat him up so the chain doesn’t connect but it does send Hardy scurrying through the ropes, running towards the back. ”So, don't ask me no questions And I won't tell you no lies So, don't ask me about my business And I won't tell you goodbye” The music dies down as Bruce picks up the discarded microphone that Ben Hardy dropped in his haste to get the hell out of there. WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! Bruce just stands there for a moment, microphone in one hand, the barbwire bat in the other with the chain tugged into his title belt. “Now if I…” WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! Bruce looks a little annoyed that the crowd cut him off as he was about to speak “As I was saying” WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! “WILL YOU SHUT THE HELL UP!!” Bruce screams at the fans while stomping back and forth in the ring like a trapped bear. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! Bruce stops in his tracks and just waits for the crowd to die down a little before he can go on. After a minute or so the boos begin to die down and we can finally get on with the show. “TORU!!” YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!” “Yeah that’s right cheer the stupid bastard, show us all just how pathetic the people of South Dakota are.” WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! “I lost – it happens from time to time to all of us. So TORU lucked out and evened the score between us and now the other little “import” has a shot at MY title – not a chance mind you, just a shot. And this time I ain’t hampered but such trivial concerns as “rules”, this time you’re stepping from the bath house and into MY HOUSE HERE ON STORM!!” Bruce looks up at the huge monument above him before he continues. “You dare walk onto MY show and even THINK that you have a shot at MY title? I’m Mr. Storm damn it, this is where I shine the brightest!!” BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! “A lot of people disrespect Storm and they disrespect this title – they claim it’s not a “Wrestling” title, that it’s not prestigious, that it’s garbage.” Bruce is getting fired up as he begins to pace up and down again obviously annoyed by those that put down the Hardcore title and Storm for it’s Hardcore content. “I guess I could be like the world champion or the International champion who’ve sat in their the locker room with the gold hidden away since the pay per view.” Bruce spits out. Then he un-straps the gold, holds it up next to his face and begins to stroke it while rocking back and forth “My precioussssssss” he says in a pretty poor imitation of Gollum. “They’re the jokes! I’m out here week in, week out putting my body on the line, putting my title on the line while they sit in the back and bask in the glow of their own egos! Or they defend them against guys that have no right even challenging for the title like “Iron” Spike Sharpe! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! “Oh just shut up! I know exactly what I am and where my strengths lie – I can’t beat you with an arm bar, but I don’t have to.” He straps the title around his waist once more and then Bruce pulls a pair of brass knuckles from his pocket and hold them up for everyone to see “If this is what it takes to win a match – then I’ll use it” He pulls the chain from the belt and swings it in the air, whipping the tip around with a audible “woosh” “If this is what it takes to win a match – then I’ll use it” Then he quickly drops both the chain and the brass knuckles and holds the barbwire bat up while staring at it in an affectionate way. “If this” waves the bat “Is what it takes to win a man – then I will damn sure USE IT!! There are no rules!! There are no limits to what I will do to keep this title where it belongs!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! Bruce ignores the chant, he’s on a roll now, and instead he taps the belt around his waist motioning for the camera to zoom in on it. The shot pans over the strands of barbwire wrapped around it, the bloody handprint on the faceplate and the place where it used to read “Hardcore Gamer’s” Which has been grinded out and instead has the words “Ultra Violent” etched into the metal with a crude tool. “You read it right – “Ultra Violent”!! Hardcore is a term that’s been watered down by the use of tin foil baking trays and Singapore canes that are all sound and no impact. Hardcore is a fad, a passing phase – Hardcore is a title that little candy ass pansies like Zyon, JJ Johnson or Todd Cortez have held” Bruce says with contempt in his voice “Hardcore is just an excuse to not follow the rules – ULTRA VIOLENCE IS AN EXCUSE TO HURT YOUR OPPONENTS!! And that’s what I do best, I hurt, I maim, I cripple and I love every single second of it” Bruce’s tone of voice is borderline psychotic as he rambles on about how much he enjoys hurting people. “I look at the Hardcore title history and I see guys like Wildchild on it – WILDCHILD?? He’s Hardcore? How about names such as Ced Ordonez, Longdogger Pete, Manson, JJ Johnson, Zyon or Todd Cortez? They’re Hardcore?” The crowd pops for the mention of most of those former Hardcore champions that are still active in SWF. “That’s just sad, that’s why the term “Hardcore” has become a joke until I came to town – I took this title and I raised it up to a whole new and demented level!! No more cookie sheets!! Now it’s light tubes, barbwire and fire!! You want to step in the ring with the most Ultra Violent Mother F**ker in SWF, you better be prepared to bleed” BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! “Cause I am ready to make you bleed!” WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! “Now Smarkdown doesn’t recognize the legitimacy of this title” Bruce says as he taps the belt around his waist “But they will have to stand and take notice as I bring my brand of mayhem to Smarkdown!! And as for Lockdown” Bruce says with palpital contempt. “Make me shake people’s hands, play by the rules – I got news for you!! I reject your rules and substitute my own!!” Bruce throws the microphone down and stomps off as the crowd boos him mercilessly “What the hell does that mean” Pete asks as Bruce takes a swing at a fan that touched him. “That means that Bruce needs a big wallet to pay his Lockdown fines! Finally a man who stands up the “Politically correct” Bullshit of Lockdown!” King says with a thumbs up. “I’m not sure Bruce is playing with a full deck King” “No but that probably just makes him more dangerous” King replies as the show goes to it’s first commercial break.

The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents... SWF STORM, OCTOBER 21, 2005, LIVE FROM IN FRONT OF MOUNT RUSHMORE, WHICH I THINK IS IN SOUTH DAKOTA! (8:00 pm EST, 5:00 pm PST; check local listings) Have all marked matches to chirs3 by 11:00 PM EST; all markers should expect either a match or an extension request in their box by 8:00 PM EST. There will be a ring set up under George Washington's enormous head, and the fans will be rioting! It'll be like Richie Rich.. only, uh, not so much Macauley Culkin. SWF HARDCORE CHAMPIONSHIP HOUSE RULES: OUR FOUNDING FATHERS MATCH Bruce Blank (SWF Hardcore Champion) v. KOJI Kitano -> On Smarkdown, Blank fell hard to TORU Takahara, while KOJI got spanked in his bid to become Hardcore champion. Tonight on Storm, both men get a chance to redeem themselves, with interesting stipulations! Rules: On a pole in one corner of the ring, there is an old-fashioned quill. Mixed in with Longdogger Pete's notes is a replica of the United States Constitution... of course, Pete doesn't know this, and the wrestlers will be told that the Constitution is just 'somewhere near Mount Rushmore'. The first person to use the quill to sign the Constitution wins. Word Limit: 5500 Marker: Chuck Woolery SWF INTERNATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP HARDCORE MATCH Jay Hawke (SWF International Champion) v. Johnny Dangerous -> Three shows away from Ashes 2 Ashes, and Jay Hawke will get a pass on defending the International title there; he's too busy helping Landon Maddix with the tag belts. As a result, CC will be throwing two challengers at him in the next three shows, and tonight is the first, as Hawke takes on the man who beat him to win the first International championship, Johnny Dangerous. Rules: HARDCORE! Word Limit: 5500 Marker: chirs3 HARDCORE MATCH "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins (SWF Championship #1 Contender) v. The Divine Wind -> Eh, Spike asked for it. I'm guessing he jobs again (for angle purposes), but we'll see. Rules: HARDCORE! Word Limit: 5000 Marker: janusd HARDCORE MATCH Bill Fillmaff v. TORU Takahara (SWF Tag Team Beltholder) -> He's Bill Fillmaff! Rules: HARDCORE! Word Limit: 3500 Marker: janusd

Toxxic: I have no idea what you're talking about. Hawke: Yeah, well, originally I had both of you unbooked, but when I woke up this morning Johnny had a PM in my box requesting a title shot and (silly me) I said okay, and you were the only beltholder that I didn't already have booked/unbooked. Lazy? ... eh, yeah.

SWF Smarkdown returns from its final commercial break of the evening, treating the viewer at home to a breathtaking shot of the inside of the Five Seasons Center, packed to the brim with several thousand excited Iowans. Enjoying their break from their lives of quiet desperation, an anxious murmur rises from the teeming mass of Iowans as they wait for the final match of the evening. Their anticipation comes to a head when the lights are suddenly cut out and a throng of hooded druids march out from behind the stage. DOOM DOOM DOOM DOOM DOOM RAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!! A mighty cheer rises from the audience as the druids line the barrier, facing the ring. All at once, the lights come back up, the druids go silent, and Boots Randolph’s “Yakety Sax” hits the speakers. Jimmy the Doom strides through the entrance curtain, looking majestic in his Cat in the Hat...hat made from alternating layers of skunk fur. Lois the Unethical trails only a step behind him, her face as cold as Doomtopia’s bitterest winters. “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall, and is tonight’s MAIN EVENT!” Funyon begins, drawing a raucous cheer from the capacity crowd. “Introducing first, accompanied by Lois the Unethical, weighing in at two hundred and twenty-five pounds...he hails from Doomopolis, Doomtopia...JIMMMMMMMM-EEEEE THE DOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMM!!” Jimmy makes his way down the entrance ramp, passing the lines of loyal druids at his back and call. As he passes the last two, Jimmy suddenly spins around and bashes one in the face, immediately knocking the anonymous man to the floor. Lois smiles and nods approvingly as Jimmy continues down the ramp, acting as though nothing happened. Mr. the Doom rolls beneath the bottom rope, pops to his feet, and strides into the center of the ring while Mrs. the Unethical walks around the ring, keeping her eyes locked on her Doomtopian hunk of burning love. “And welcome back to SWF Smarkdown, everyone!” Pete finally says. “We’ve had a fantastic show here in Cedar Rapids, and we’re ready to cap it off with what’s sure to be a terrific main event!” “Psh. Some main event.” King rolls his eyes. “A backwoods retard from some made-up country taking on our finest performer, El Luchadore Magnifico. It’s downright embarassing, is what it is.” Jimmy’s remained completely still since stepping into the middle of the ring, his eyes focused on the entrance stage. His view becomes a little less clear when the lights are cut out once more, causing the crowd to boo in anticipation. “HEY HEY!” *BOOOOOOOOOMMM!!* The intro to Atake FDD’s “Tu Final” is shouted over the speakers as red, white, and green pyro shoots upwards from the entrance stage. A moment later, El Luchadore Magnifico bursts through the pyro-induced smoke and onto the entrance ramp, illuminated by a single spotlight. Waves of boos cascade in from the stage as Magnifico quickly walks down the entrance ramp, the World Title wrapped around his waist, his Mexican flag flapping behind him, and his head bobbing to the thumping bass of his music. “And now, from Mexico City, Mexico, weighing in at two hundred and ten pounds...he is the SWF World Heavyweight Champion...” Funyon pauses. “EL LUCHADOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRE MAGNIFICOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!” As Magnifico approaches the bottom of the entrance ramp, he notices that it’s still lined by Jimmy’s druids, who simply seem to be hanging around, not really sure what to do next. One nods and waves at ELM, who just raises his eyebrow in response. As he passes the devoted followers, Magnifico picks up bits and pieces of their conversation. “...the swelling finally went down...” “...oh yeah, you betcha....” “...so, whattya wanna do after whatever it is we’re doing here? Ya wanna go to Applebee’s, or...” ELM reaches the ring, slides beneath its bottom rope, and pops to his feet. He sees that Jimmy is steadfastly occupying the center of the ring, so he simply thrusts his flag into the air where he stands, the lights going up as he does so. The suddenly-illuminated crowd looks on as Jimmy stares Magnifico down, doing so as the luchadore unwraps the World Title from around his waist and hands it and the flag to the ref. “You may feel that this match is unimportant, King, but I’m sure Jimmy would disagree.” Pete lectures. “To him, this match is an opportunity for Jimmy to prove himself, to show that he’s worthy of fighting for the World Title. A win here could be huge for him.” “Would be, you mean.” King corrects. “There’s no way this lanky, ridiculous fool gets anywhere close to scoring a fall on Magnifico tonight. The pride of Doomtopia is no match for Mexico’s glorious hero.” His hands full of Magnifico’s possessions, the ref reminds the two competitors of the rules very quickly before signaling for the bell. DING DING DING As an excited cheer rises from the crowd, Magnifico begins pacing back and forth in front of Jimmy, getting in a few cursory stretches as he does so. Doom remains completely motionless but doesn’t take his eyes off of ELM for a moment. After a few seconds, this gets on the luchadore’s nerves, and he steps right up to Jimmy and tells him so. Doom cocks his head to the side as ELM curses him out in Spanish, confused by what this small, strange man is doing. This only angers Magnifico further and causes him to lash out with a quick right that strikes Jimmy right in the chin. Doom’s head is snapped backwards, but he quickly shakes it off and smiles, which unsettles Magnifico to say the least.A half second later, Jimmy blasts ELM in the face with a strong right that knocks Magnifico backwards and into the corner! A raucous cheer rises from the audience as Doom follws up the initial strike with a combination of punches and kicks that punish every bit of Magnifico’s upper body. “Well, it took a bit for Jimmy to get going, but just try and stop him now!” Pete happily announces. “Doom is just pummeling Magnifico with those strikes, working him further into the corner with each one!” “Of course, you’ll excuse me if don’t come all over myself while watching Jimmy hit somebody.” King cuts in. “I just hope I’m here to see the spasm of joy that overtakes your body when Mister the Doom latches on a headlock or something.” After pummeling Magnifico mercilessly for a few seconds, Jimmy grabs ELM by the arm, pulls him out of the corner, and whips him across the ring. Magnifico dashes across the canvas, Jimmy running only a couple steps behind him. ELM crashes back-first into the corner, just as Doom is leaping into the air and extending his limbs for a Corner Splash! Jimmy makes perfect contact with said splash, slamming his entire body into Magnifico’s as the fans release an appreciative pop. Stunned, ELM stumbles out of the corner, Jimmy slowly walking backwards so as to remain right in front of him. Once Magnifico is far enough away from the ropes, Jimmy spins around and lashes out with his foot, slamming it into the side of ELM’s head with a devastating Roundhouse Kick! Magnifico crumples to the canvas as the the fans giddily cheer, only growing louder when Jimmy hits the mat and covers the kooky luchadore. Doom hooks Magnifico’s leg as the ref slides into position and begins counting... ONE! TWO! No! ELM kicks out at two and a half, quickly silencing most of the live audience. “Graceful Roundhouse Kick finishes off an impressive attack from Jimmy the Doom.” Pete reports. “I’m sure Jimmy is taking many people by surprise with his performance thus far.” “Can’t deny that.” King admits. “I thought Jimmy would curl into a ball and cry for mercy the moment he saw Magnifico. He’s exceeded my expectations to say the least.” Unphased, Jimmy rolls off of Magnifico, grabs him by the arm, and stands up, pulling the luchadore to his feet as he stands. Doom then whips ELM across the ring, sending him rushing towards the far ropes. Magnifico bounces off of said ropes and charges back towards Jimmy, who grabs the luchadore, hoists him into the air, and twists him around in a Tilt-a-Whirl sort of way! But before Jimmy can turn that into whatever move he has planned, Magnifico twists out of his grip, landing on his feet right in front of Doom! Jimmy immediately lashes out with a quick Lariat, but Magnifico manages to duck beneath Doom’s arm and spin behind him, wrapping his arms around Jimmy’s waist and locking him in a Rear Waistlock as he does so! ELM hoists Jimmy into the air as if for a German Suplex, but Magnifico just can’t get the lanky bastard over his head. As Magnifico tries anyway, Jimmy throws his elbow backwards in mid-air, slamming it into ELM’s skull and immediately discouraging his attempt at a German Suplex. Jimmy hits his feet and immediately breaks free of Magnifico’s grip. He then spins around and throws his head forward, driving it into the bridge of ELM’s nose with a vicious Headbutt! His hand on his possibly-broken nose, Magnifico stumbles backwards and into the ropes behind him, doing so as the pleased fans happily cheer. “And we see Jimmy’s first Headbutt of the contest, which is one of the best in the bidness.” Pete proclaims. “Jimmy’s skull is like a protective shield of steel for his brain.” “Ridiculous hyperbole aside, how can you accurately judge the merit of a Headbutt?” King earnestly asks. “You take you head and slam it into the other guy’s. Where’s the technique in that?” LDP shrugs. “It’s not so much technique as willingness to use as much force as possible. Most competitors shy away from driving their skull into someone else’s because of the whole ‘risking concussion’ thing.” ELM falls against the ropes but receives only a moment’s rest, as Jimmy quickly grabs him by the arm, pulls him off of the ropes, and whips him across the ring. Magnifico bounces off of the far ropes and charges back towards Jimmy, who greets him by thrusting his palm forward, driving the tips of his fingers into ELM’s throat with the Hand of Doom! Magnifico immediately stops dead in his tracks and grabs his throat, choking for breath while the live audience releases a pleased pop. With ELM distracted by not being able to breathe, Jimmy is able to easily slap his hands away and grab him around the neck, right before using that grip to lift Magnifico high into the air for the Jimmy Bomb! But before ELM can complete his ascent, he suddenly drives his knee forward, slamming it into Jimmy’s chest with untold force! Doom’s grip weakens, allowing Magnifico to break free of it and land on his feet right in front of Jimmy. The second he hits his feet, ELM lashes out with his arm, driving it right into the gigantic hamburger on Jimmy’s shirt with a Knife-Edge Chop! *SMACK* “WHOOOOOOOOOOOO!!” Nearly everyone in attendance ‘whoo’s despite themselves as Jimmy stumbles backwards, reeling from the combination of blows to his sunken chest. Grinning to himself, ELM rears back once more, drives his arm forward, and… CHOP! *SMACK* “WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!” “Now that’s more like it!” King exclaims. “Magnifico manages to avoid Jimmy’s incessant cheating and get in a few good, stiff blows at his chest. Throat strikes and choking, indeed. Simply embarrassing.” “King, those moves are completely legal and quite effective.” Pete counters. “It’s not Magnifico’s fault that he’s a pencil-necked weakling.” Jimmy falls backwards and into the ropes behind him after the set of chops, which seem to have him momentarily reeling. Seeing this, Magnifico suddenly turns around and breaks into a sprint, bouncing off of the ropes furthest from Doom. ELM then charges back across the ring and blistering speed, quickly bearing down on Doom as the live audience begins to boo in anticipation. But as Magnifico approaches, Jimmy suddenly bends over and grabs him by the legs, before standing up and hurling the luchadore over his head! A mighty cheer rises from the crowd as ELM flies over the top rope and lands on the outside, crashing back-first on the thinly padded floor! Magnifico arches his body and cries out in pain immediately after impact, drawing a warm smile from Doom as he hits the mat and rolls to the outside. “Great move from Jimmy, who takes advantage of a blind charge from ELM to dump him on the outside.” Pete reports. “Magnifico would do well to realize that Jimmy is one of the toughest, if not the toughest, competitors in the SWF. It’ll take more than a knee strike and a couple chops to stun him.” Jimmy steps on the outside and walks over to the luchadore, doing so as the ref begins his count from inside the ring. ONE! Magnifico begins to push himself to his feet, but is cut off halfway by Jimmy, who grabs the luchadore by the hair before painfully pulling him to his feet. Jimmy leads Magnifico over to the nearby guardrail and unceremoniously slams the luchadore’s head into it, doing so as the yahoos in the front row jockey for the best position to get on TV. TWO! Still gripping him by the back of the head, Jimmy then drags Magnifico over the ring post, where, once again, the luchadore is driven forehead-first into a cold steel object. His headache grows more painful by the second, and the irritating sounds of twenty thousand people cheering for his pain doesn’t help matters any. THREE! With ELM is sufficiently stunned by the set of steel strikes, Jimmy is able to easily pull him into a Front Headlock, and almost as easily hoist the luchadore into the air as if for a Vertical Suplex. But before Doom can do whatever it is he planned on doing, Magnifico manages to twist out of his grip, falling behind Jimmy as the nearby fans boo and curse ELM for his unappreciated reversal. FOUR! Magnifico lands on his feet behind Jimmy and immediately drives his knee forward, slamming it into the small of Doom’s back. Jimmy arches his body backwards in pain, making it easier for ELM to stick his head beneath Doom’s arm while trapping him in a Rear Waistlock. Magnifico then lifts Jimmy into the air and immediately falls backwards, slamming his back and shoulders into the floor with a Back Suplex! The crowd seems to wince as one before releasing a massive wave of boos, displeased with this most recent turn of events. FIVE! “Well, good on Jimmy for lasting this long.” King begrudgingly says. “He’ll get counted out and we’ll move on. Thanks for watching, every-“ “Shut it, King.” Pete snaps. “It was a nice reversal from Magnifico, but there’s no way to be sure if it’ll be enough to keep Jimmy down for the rest of the ten count.” Immediately after landing the Suplex, Magnifico rolls onto his stomach and pushes himself to his feet, a triumphant grin painted across his face. Ignoring the curses and taunts of the idiots in the front row, ELM stands and rolls into the ring, confident that he has this match won. SIX! Magnifico pops to his feet and turns to the outside, just to make sure Jimmy remains on the outside for the remainder of the count. To his shock and dismay, the luchadore sees that Doom is already on his feet and headed towards the ring, his face blank as he stares fixedly at Magnifico. Doom rolls into the ring and pops to his feet as a horrified ELM hits the ground and crawls backwards away from Jimmy, as if he were the unfortunate future victim of a bloodthirsty zombie. “Haha, not only does Jimmy avoid the ten count, he gets back in the ring only a couple seconds after Magnifico!” Pete gleefully reports. “No selling son of a bitch!” King suddenly cries. “This won’t fly for a second, I’ll tell you that much. Jimmy will be jobbing to Ced Ordonez in Altoona by the end of the week, mark my words.” Magnifico scrambles to his feet as Jimmy slowly walks towards him, a warm but unsettling smile on his face. Scowling, ELM gathers his courage, charges towards Doom, and cracks him in the face with a quick right. Jimmy doesn’t even bother with the pretense of acting stunned this time; instead, he immediately responds with a strong hook to the side of ELM’s jaw, which causes the luchadore to turn and stumble away from Doom. After a few steps, he spins back to face Jimmy, and does so just long enough to receive another stunning blow to his face from Doom. Magnifico’s knocked into the corner by that punch, falling against its turnbuckles as a raucous cheer rises from the delighted crowd. Jimmy strides up to the luchadore and lands a few quick kicks to his gut and chest before grabbing Magnifico by the arm, pulling him out of the corner, and whipping him across the ring. ELM charges towards the far corner, Jimmy running only a couple steps behind him. Unfortunately, because Doom is right behind Magnifico, he doesn’t have time to stop himself when the luchadore runs up the corner’s turnbuckles, and instead crashes chest-first into the corner as Magnifico gracefully flips backwards over him! As Jimmy stumbles backwards, ELM makes a perfect landing on his feet behind him. Immediately after landing, Magnifico steps to Jimmy’s side, grabs his ankles with his feet, and then falls forward, tripping Doom up with a Drop Toe Hold as he does so! As Jimmy falls, his chin bounces off of the top turnbuckle of the corner in front of him, drawing a collective wince from the live audience as they watch Doom fall lifelessly to the canvas. Moving quickly, Magnifico drags Jimmy away from the corner, turns him onto his stomach, and covers him, drawing a wave of annoyed boos from the capacity crowd. As ELM hooks Jimmy’s leg, the ref slides into position and begins counting… ONE! TWO! No! Jimmy kicks out right after two, replacing most of the booing with hopeful cheers and applause. “Jimmy looked to be setting up for the Seven Three Point Five Two Six Seven…whatever…” Pete begins, “But Magnifico managed to run up the turnbuckles and flip backwards over the charging Doomtopian!” “Not only that, but he immediately blasted Jimmy in the face with a Drop Toe Hold into a turnbuckle, just like he did to Danny at Genesis VI!” King cheerfully adds. “Sure, it didn’t quite get a pinfall, but it’s only a matter of time now. Checkmate in three moves.” As Pete rolls his eyes and groans, Magnifico rolls off of Jimmy and pushes himself back to his feet. When he stands, ELM finds, to his annoyance, that Doom is already pushing himself back to his feet. Magnifico kicks and stomps away at Jimmy’s back, but it seems to hardly phase the hardy citizen of glorious Doomtopia. Seeing this, ELM instead grabs Jimmy by the hair, jerks him to his feet, and then pulls unceremoniously Doom into a Front Headlock. Magnifico then hops backwards onto the second turnbuckle of the nearby corner, drawing a wave of anticipatory boos for the planned Tornado DDT. ELM allows himself a small smile at the response before leaping off of the turnbuckle, twisting around in mid-air, and falling onto his back, planting Jimmy’s skull into the canvas with the Tornado DDT! As the boos grow in their intensity, Magnifico basically floats onto Jimmy and covers him, hooking his leg as the ref slides into position and begins counting… ONE! TWO! Jimmy kicks out just as quickly as he did a minute ago, quickly changing the crowd’s response to one of relieved cheers. “This does not bode well for Magnifico.” Pete grimly states. “His Tornado DDT is nothing to sneeze at, but Jimmy kicked out of it with ease. Nothing ELM is doing seems to even be wearing Jimmy down.” ELM scowls as he rises, irritated that the Tornado DDT didn’t even keep Jimmy down for a half second longer. At least this time, Doom isn’t pushing himself back to his feet immediately after Magnifico. Encouraged by this, ELM quickly makes his way over to the nearby corner and ascends its turnbuckles, the crowd’s anticipatory booing growing louder and louder as he climbs. When ELM reaches the top rope, he slowly stands up on the top turnbuckle, careful to keep his balance. Without a moment’s pause, Magnifico then leaps off of the top turnbuckle, compressing and then extending his body for a Frogsplash! Thousands of cameras illuminate the scene as Jimmy suddenly sits up, leaving Magnifico without a target! If one were to look closely, they could see ELM’s eyes widen just before missing the Frogsplash and crashing into the canvas with tremendous force! Seemingly oblivious to what just happened, Doom looks behind him and sees Magnifico flop onto his back, completely stunned from the missed Frogsplash. Jimmy ponders this for a moment, shrugs, and then simply lays back down, his head and shoulders making the cover as the live audience laughs and cheers. Doom casually reaches back and hooks Magnifico’s leg as the ref slides into position and begins counting… ONE! TWO! TH-No! Magnifico gets a shoulder up right before the three count, quickly sobering the live audience in the process. “This is ridiculous.” King growls. “Magnifico is being made a fool of. This is not something he will stand for.” “Well, why doesn’t he do something about it?” Pete asks. “…he will! You just watch!” King snaps, indignant. LDP rolls his eyes. “You can’t deny that Magnifico just looked foolish on that Frogsplash, King. Jimmy didn’t even seem to know that ELM was attempting it and countered it completely by accident.” Jimmy rolls off of ELM, grabs him by the arm, and then stands up, pulling Magnifico to his feet as he stands. Doom then uses his grip to whip ELM across the ring, sending him rushing towards the far ropes. Magnifico bounces off of said ropes and charges back towards Jimmy, who quickly twists behind the luchadore, trapping him in a Rear Waistlock as he does so! While still moving, Doom then hoists Magnifico into the air and simply throws him over his head! However, ELM manages to flip out of the Jimmy-Plex, landing on his feet behind the still-spinning Doom! A somewhat-dizzy Jimmy turns towards Magnifico and receives a stiff kick to his gut in return, which doubles Doom over somewhat and gives ELM unimpeded access to his arm. Magnifico takes said arm and wraps it into a Chickenwing, then wraps his other arm around Jimmy’s head and falls to his knees, driving his shoulder into Doom’s chin with Montezuma’s Revenge! Jimmy snaps backwards off of Magnifico shoulder and falls to the canvas, doing so as a wave of irritated booing pours in from the live audience. ELM immediately covers Jimmy after the Chickenwing Jawbreaker, hooking his leg as the ref slides into position and begins counting… ONE! TWO! TH-No! Jimmy kicks out at two and a half, quickly cheering the crowd up as he does so. Growing angrier by the second, Magnifico rolls off of Jimmy, curses, and slaps the mat in frustration. “ELM manages to land Montezuma’s Revenge, but it’s not enough to keep Jimmy down for the three count!” Pete reports. “And now we see Magnifico’s frustration bubbling to the surface once more, as he seems to be growing furious at his inability to score a pinfall!” “And what, you think Magnifico’s anger is going to get the better of him?” King scoffs. “Please. If anybody should be worried, it’s Jimmy. ELM was probably going to let him get off easy with a quick Dia de los Muertos, but noooooo. Jimmy had to be difficult. Now he gets the painful, humiliating finish.” “Which is what, exactly?” Pete asks. “…damn you, Longdogger.” King grumbles, unable to think of an answer. Done with his brief hissy fit, Magnifico grabs Jimmy by the arm and pulls him to his feet, before using his grip to whip Doom across the ring and towards the far ropes. Jimmy bounces off of said ropes and charges back towards Magnifico, who ducks beneath Doom’s arm while grabbing him under the other one, setting him up for the Rio Grande Slam in the center of the ring! However, before ELM can lift Jimmy, he abruptly drives his elbow into the side of Magnifico’s skull, which stuns the luchadore and weakening his grip significantly. Doom swats ELM’s arm away before grabbing both sides Magnifico’s head and squeezing it as though it were an overripe melon, locking in the Head Vice to the delight of the live audience! Magnifico flails and cries out in pain as his brain is compressed by the awesome force of the Vice, cueing the ref to ask ELM if he wants to submit. Magnifico pointedly refuses before releasing another harrowing cry of pain, which only encourages Jimmy and causes him to squeeze the luchadore’s head even harder. However, he’s not to garner a submission from the Head Vice on this day, as Magnifico, his head still in Jimmy’s grap, suddenly leaps up and kicks his feet out, slamming them into Doom’s chest with a Standing Dropkick! Jimmy is knocked backwards and into the ropes by the force of the Dropkick and his grip is broken as the disappointed fans immediately quiet down. “No! Jimmy had Magnifico in utter agony with the Head Vice, but ELM managed to break free with a Standing Dropkick to his chest!” Pete exclaims. “Serves Jimmy right, the bum.” Pete adds, his arms crossed. “Trying to get a submission with that ridiculous move. I hope Magnifico makes the finish he had in mind even more devastating and humiliating now!” Magnifico is on his feet right after the Dropkick, and is ready to capitalize on the strike as Doom bounces off of the ropes he was just knocked into. The second Jimmy comes off of the ropes, Magnifico grabs him and lifts him into the air, before spinning Doom’s body around for La Dia de los Muertos! However, Jimmy manages to wriggle out of his grip in mid-spin, sliding down ELM’s back and landing on his feet right behind the luchadore! Magnifico immediately spins around to face Jimmy, and Doom responds by shooting his hands out and wrapping them around ELM’s neck! Jimmy then hoists Magnifico into the air before sitting out and slamming him into the canvas with ridiculous force, landing the Jimmy Bomb as a deafening pop rises from the stands! Not moving from his sitting position, Jimmy grabs ELM’s legs and pulls them back, pinning him to the canvas as the ref slides into position and begins counting… ONE! TWO! THHHHHRRRRRNNNNNOOOOO!! “OHHHHHHHHHHHH!!” Magnifico manages to get a shoulder up mere milliseconds before the three count, greatly disappointing the live audience in the process. “No! Jimmy gets off the Jimmy Bomb on his second try, but it’s not quite enough to get the pin!” Pete excitedly reports. “But regardless, Magnifico is in a very tough position here! One more strong move might be enough to keep him down for the three count!” “Too bad he’s not going to land any more moves, much less a quote unquote strong one.” King counters. “Magnifico will pay this man his due respect; he managed to survive in the ring with the World Champion, and he deserves to be lauded for that. But with that out of the way, ELM will soon finish toying around with Jimmy and mercifully finish him off.” Seemingly completely unphased by the kickout, Jimmy rolls off of the luchadore, grabs him by the arm, and then stands, pulling Magnifico to his feet as he does so. Jimmy then uses his grip to twist ELM’s arm over his head, locking the luchadore into an Arm Wringer in the center of the ring! The fans are already roaring in anticipation, and only grow louder when Jimmy slams his knee into Magnifico’s gut, doubling him over, right before blasting ELM right in the face with the same knee! Magnifico’s body is snapped backwards, but Jimmy’s grip on his arm doesn’t allow him to fall to the mat! Doom begins to brutally punish ELM’s knees and legs with a series of stiff, quick kicks, doing so until Magnifico’s legs buckle beneath him and he falls to his knees! “Doomsday! Jimmy has initiated his vicious strike combination, and looks to be one big kick away from winning this match!” Pete shouts. The cheers reach a fever pitch as Jimmy winds the kick up, measuring Magnifico up for the final blow. Finally, Doom lashes out with his foot, aiming it directly at the back of Magnifico’s head! But before the kick can make contact, ELM suddenly jerks his arm free and ducks beneath the kick, the tip of Jimmy’s boot just grazing the top of Magnifico’s scalp! A surprised and disappointed “OHHHH!” rises from the crowd as Jimmy spins around on the mat, carried by the momentum of the kick. In one swift motion, Magnifico pops to his feet and pulls Jimmy into a Backslide position, drawing a wave of anticipatory boos from the capacity crowd! Moving quickly, ELM makes a break for the nearby corner and dashes up its turnbuckles, jumping and flipping off of the top one as the crowd looks on in horror! Magnifico flips over Jimmy and lands on his knees, pulling Doom down with him and slamming his face into the canvas with the Baja California Crusher! “Whoo ha, he’s got you all in check!” King suddenly cries. “Jimmy’s pathetic excuse for a finisher is effortlessly reversed into the Baja California Crusher, just as I predicted! Yeah!” Not wasting a moment, Magnifico immediately turns Jimmy onto his back and covers him, doing so as the incensed fans boo as loudly as they know how. The ref slides into position and begins counting, doing so as ELM reaches over and hooks Jimmy’s leg… ONE! TWO! THHHHHRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEE!! DING DING DING “Your winner, by pinfall…” Funyon dutifully announces. “EL LUCHAAAADOOOOOOORRRRRE MAGNIFICOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! The vast majority of Funyon’s announcement is drowned out by the boos and taunts pouring in from every corner of the arena. Magnifico slowly climbs back to his feet, tired and sore but none the worse for wear, and revels in the hatred directed towards him. The ref raises his hand and ELM thrusts the other won into the air, laughing triumphantly as he does so. On the outside, a crestfallen Lois the Unethical simply looks on… “A well-timed reversal for Magnifico saves him the match.” Pete reports in a businessman-like tone. “But let’s not forget the fantastic effort put forth by Jimmy the Doom – “ “Actually, let’s do just that.” King interrupts. “Yeah, he got a few non-terrible moves off, but what matters is that Magnifico won and is still the lord and savior of the SWF. And in the end, isn’t that what’s really important?” “Actually, no.” Pete counters. “Spoil sport.” King grumbles. LDP sighs. “We’ve had an amazing show here in Cedar Rapids, but I’m afraid we’re out of time! Good night, everyone! Tune into Storm!” The final image broadcasted is that of El Luchadore Magnifico, his hands raised triumphantly and his body shaking with laughter…

"Welcome back to Storm, where you're just in time for the opening match-up of the night, as the newcomer Haffy faces a tough challenge in Manson!" "Even in his current mindstate, Manson can put up a fight, that much I'll admit. Haffy has to come with everything he can if he expects to pick up a win." "Haffy is a slugger, but Manson is just the same, and we've seen a lot of power from him, as well. I don't know if Haffy can keep up, despite his height advantage." "Hell, that's the only advantage he has going into this, aside from his win on Lockdown, as opposed to Manson being on the losing end of a tag match. And what kind of a name is Haffy anyway?" The house lights dim and Mastodon's "Crusher Destroyer" hits, complete with multi-colored strobes flashing in time with the music. The fans rise to their feet, the buzz in the arena reaching a fever pitch, and Manson emerges moments later to a big pop, then starts down the ramp. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the following is a singles contest scheduled for one fall! First, hailing from Denver, Colorado, and weighing in at two-hundred and fifty two pounds… MMMAAAANNNNSOONNN!" He heads down the ramp at a brisk pace and rolls in, looking grumpy as usual. He heads straight to his corner and jogs in place, throwing fists, as he waits for his foe. Suddenly, the lights come up and the music fades, as "Mouth for War" by Pantera strikes. Haffy heads out and goes from side to side of the stage, throwing up devil horns as he does so. "And his opponent, hailing from Sydney, Australia, and weighing in at two-hundred and thirty pounds… HAFFY!" Funyon booms, before leaving the ring. Haffy heads down the ramp, jawing with fans, and even ripping a Manson sign out of a little girl's hands and tearing it up. She begins sobbing and Haffy simply puts the devil horns in her face and is all like, "I'm metal! I have a Pontiac Firebird on blocks in my front yard, look at this faded Anthrax shirt I'm wearing! RAWR!" "Good," says Suicide King, "Manson isn't someone you want as a role model." "Please. Haffy lives out of one of our production trucks and smells like cheap cigarettes and Pabst." Approaching the ring, he slides in and lays his shirt on the ring post, and standing opposite from Manson, begins rioting quietly by banging his head. Manson looks on incredulously and steps forward, as Referee Matt Kivell calls for the bell. *DING DING!* "There's the bell, and of course, Manson is in the tattered, faded blue jeans, and Haffy is in the… tattered, faded blue jeans… just great…" Longdogger mutters, as Haffy also steps out. The Raging Bull and Haffy circle the ring, but as Manson heads forward for the lock-up, Haffy steps away from him and climbs a turnbuckle, throwing up the horns once again to a round of boos from the crowd. He steps down and smirks, to which Manson cocks his head, and Haffy tells him to head up. "Wait. Is he challenging him to a Metal Off?" King asks. "Manson is totally grim and frostbitten, there's no way Haffy will win this." Manson shakes his head and ascends the opposite turnbuckle, throwing up some devil horns of his own and getting a big amount of cheers. He steps down and heads back toward Haffy, and the two exchange words. After a moment, Haffy slaps Manson across the face for showing him up, and Manson immediately fires off punches to the jaw. Haffy is driven back, but soon gets an upper hand on Manson. The two continue exchanging punches, but Manson is pushed back, and Haffy grabs him by the wrist. He whips Manson to the right hand ropes, but upon bouncing off, Manson picks up momentum and knocks Haffy down with a shoulderblock! "Shoulderblock by The Raging Bull off the ropes, after the impromptu disply of metal prowess." Haffy stands and Manson hits a right cross, and another one, then a kick to the gut. His opponent doubled over, Manson delivers a knee to the face, standing Haffy up and sending him stumbling back into the ropes. Manson keeps the pressure on, nailing a forearm smash, then taking Haffy by the hand and whipping him across the ring. Manson stands ready in the center and Haffy comes off the ropes, and is lifted high into the air with a big back body drop! Haffy comes down, hitting the mat, and Manson goes for a pinfall. "Manson is rolling, tossing Haffy overhead with a back body drop and keeping him on the defensive!" ONE! But Haffy kicks out after one, prompting Manson to hit a couple of fists from the side, before bringing him up. Manson short headbutts Haffy, who's sent back into the upper right corner. Manson shakes off his own headbutt and follows Haffy, who lays against the turnbuckle. He wraps his arms around Haffy's waist and locks his hands, and looks to lift him up, but Haffy keeps hold of the ropes, hooking them with his arms. Manson tries again, and again Haffy won't budge, this time hammering Manson with a forearm over the back after the attempt. He slams Manson with more forearms, forcing him to release Haffy. Australian for Metal switches Manson up, grabbing him by the back of the neck and pushing him into the corner. He beats Manson down in the corner with punches to the jaw and temple, and as Manson slouches down, transitions to kicks to the chest, forcing Manson down to the mat. He stemps a mudhole in him, and as Manson tries to gather himself, Haffy takes a run and a bounce off the near camera ropes. Coming back toward Manson, he goes low and boots him in the face with the face wash! Haffy turns his back on Manson to taunt the crowd some more, while The Raging Bull falls out of the corner, trying to brush off the effects of Haffy's attack. "Haffy with the low kick to Manson in the corner, but he doesn't follow up!" "He'll learn in time that you don't turn your back on anyone or give them a moment's rest." Haffy heads back toward Manson, but he's already up to his knees, and he fights off Haffy with punches to the midsection. Pushing himself up to his feet, he nails a knee to the gut, taking Haffy down, and tries to head off toward the far camera ropes, but Haffy grabs Manson by the hair and yanks him down hard! Manson hits the back of his head on the mat and immediately attends to it, as Haffy stands and brings him up. Haffy stands off to the side of Manson, wrapping an arm around Manson's head and clasping his hands, locking in a side headlock. Haffy briefly brings Manson down on this knees, but Manson hits multiple shots to the kidneys, forcing Haffy to loosen the hold. This allows Manson to get to his feet and push Haffy off toward the left hand ropes. Bouncing off, Haffy comes back and Manson catches him around the waist, this time managing to put him down with the belly to belly slam! He goes for another cover. "Manson rallying back and hitting the belly to belly on Haffy!" ONE! And Haffy is out of it again! Manson slaps the mat and stands, backing away from Haffy. Haffy stands and Manson heads off for the near camera ropes, taking a bounce and heading back towards Haffy as he turns around. Manson extends his arm for the Western Lariat attempt, but Haffy ducks just in time! Manson stumbles a few steps past Haffy and the Australian nears him from behind, looking to grab hold, but Manson fires off a back elbow, catching Haffy. Manson then switches up position on Haffy, sliding around and wrapping his arms around Haffy's waist from behind. With a grunt, he effortlessly lifts Haffy overhead, dumping him on his upper back with a German Suplex! Manson stands and feeling the momentum and crowd getting behind him, heads out to the apron and ascends to the top. "Manson with a German Suplex, and now heading to the top!" "How often is it that Manson does this? It's not very smart at all." Manson calls for Haffy get up, which he does so, turning on his elbow, after gathering himself for a moment. Crouched on the turnbuckle, Manson takes off, flying toward Haffy and leading with his shoulder, but Haffy dropkicks Manson out of the air! Manson crashes on the mat, and Haffy goes for a cover. "See, Pete, what did I tell you?" "Indeed, Haffy takes Manson out, and here's a cover!" ONE! TWO! And Manson kicks out at two! Haffy pounds the mat and brings Manson up, hooking him around the head and by his jeans. He tries to lift Manson for a Brainbuster, but Manson kicks his legs frantically, bringing himself back down to the mat. He then reverses the hold, hooking Haffy behind the leg, as well. Up in the air, Manson grabs hold of the other leg and drops down on his back, impacting Haffy against his shoulders with a Muscle Buster! He goes for a cover. "IT'S OVER! It's over just like that, as Manson hits a Muscle Buster!!" Pete shouts. ONE! TWO! THREE! *DING DING!* "Your winner by pinfall… MMMAAANNNNSOONNN!" Funyon booms, as "Crusher Destroyer" by Mastodon hits, and Manson has his hand raised by Kivell. "Manson wins…" "For the first time in ages," Suicide King sneaks in. "Well, it shows how dangerous Manson is and how he can take out someone quickly and without warning." "I suppose Manson was too much for him, especially when he was more concerned with showing how metal he was, which is when the turning point in the match came about." "There's nothing for him to do but go home, listen to some vinyl on his stereo, no doubt held up by a makeshift table made out of plywood and cinder blocks, and think about why he lost," says Pete, as Manson walks out. "Now stay tuned for more Storm, after this!"

JOHNNY DANGEROUS~! ‘After the Flesh’ thunders out across the arena as Smarkdown returns from commercial break, signaling the entrance of one disgruntled Barracuda. Unlike most times when he makes his grand entrance, there are no fireworks, smoke or mirrors. Tonight it’s just Johnny. Marching straight out from backstage he doesn’t even stop to harass the fans, instead heading straight to the ring. Johnny rolls in and heads to the far side for a microphone, which is promptly handed to him before he turns and motions for his music to be cut off. Leaving only the distinct roar of the booing crowd and their nasty chants. “JOHN-E SUCKS!” “JOHN-E SUCKS!” “JOHN-E SUCKS!” “JOHN-E SUCKS!” “JOHN-E SUCKS!” “JOHN-E SUCKS!” The chants of the Iowa fans are thunderous, but it’s nothing the Barracuda hadn’t already heard before and he’d certainly expected a verbal backlash tonight. These fans hadn’t sided with him since Ground Zero and he knew they wouldn’t start now. “Cedar Rapids, Iowa,” the Barracuda says as he raises the microphone to his lips and a hush falls over the audience. “Over the course of the last week I’ve received numerous letters, e-mails and phone calls of various people – people who don’t know a damn thing about me – telling me how horrible it was for me to abandon Wildchild in last weeks tag match against TKO.” BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! “They’d certainly be right by saying it was horrible,” chimes Pete. “What Johnny Dangerous did in that ring was down right disgraceful! How could you do that to the man you call your best friend?” “Well I think he’s out here to further explain himself,” replies King. “In fact, maybe there is more to this story than you know, Drain-Clogger! Maybe Wildchild is guilty of more than what *we* know!” “Well,” continues Johnny, half smiling as he paces the ring, “let me tell you all that what you saw was something that was a long time in the making. Something that was long coming, and *long* overdue. For over three years now I have partnered myself Dominic LeCroix, known better to the world as the Wildchild and for a long while it was the greatest partnership in the SWF…Wild and Dangerous - the greatest tag team in the SWF ever. Unfortunately, as the saying goes, all good things *must* come to an end and Wild and Dangerous is no exception to the rule. It’s just too bad that Wildchild felt he needed to destroy this team.” “Wildchild….destroyed Wild and Dangerous!? What in the hell-” “You all saw what happened on Lockdown,” says Johnny, continuing before Longdogger Pete has the chance to add his two cents in. The crowd starts to become a little rowdy, obviously not pleased to hear this twisted and warped take on the actions that took place last week. “You all saw how I was once again carrying the team on my shoulders - winning this match so Wild and Dangerous could once more become the Tag Team Champions, but Wildchild just couldn’t take being the secondary star on this tag team and he violently attacked me!” “He’s right Pete,” says King. “We all saw the Wildchild knock Johnny out of the ring when things were looking so good for them.” “It was an accident! Wildchild did *not* purposely target Johnny!” “And as screwed up is that is…I could see it coming a mile away,” Johnny says. “Ever since that two faced little bitch Melissa Fasaki came along and started trying to turn Dominic against me I knew she’d set this chain of events into motion. I just wasn’t sure exactly when it would happen, but I was ready for it when it did happen. So after Wildchild decided to attack me so he could look better in the match and win it all on his own…I decided it was time to loose a little weight. It was time to drop about two hundred and fourteen pounds to be precise...and so that’s exactly what I did.” “And now I leave it at just that. This is over. I did everything I could to make myself successful and in turn you, the fans and supporters of the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation decided to turn your backs to me. To treat me like some kind of a wretched soul and for what I ask - because I figured out the way for me to be successful in this company and it just so happened to not agree with you people!?” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!” “JOHN-E SUCKS!” “JOHN-E SUCKS!” “JOHN-E SUCKS!” “JOHN-E SUCKS!” “Go ahead and boo me it just proves my point! I am far better without you people than when I had you! It didn’t just stop there though. Your influence on Wildchild was more than what he could bear. He couldn’t stand going out here every night and not getting cheered by you clowns. He couldn’t stand all the pressure you put on him to not be a stupid spot monkey in the ring. He couldn’t take getting booed because I wanted him to forget about what you idiots thought and focus on the one thing that mattered…winning, and by *any* means necessary.” “In the end, as it turns out, that like you people…he turned on me as well! However, I’m not going to hold a grudge. I’m not going to bash his skull in. I’m not going to leave him lying in a bloody pool of his own self esteem like I would do to that Mexican bastard ELM. Wildchild is free and clear to go on and become even more of a total hack in the ring by his lonesome, while I go on to another Championship. However,” he says, looking dead into the camera lenses, “be warned Wildchild. Though you may be a freakin’ moron now that you have Melissa Fasaki guiding your career…don’t be stupid enough to think you’ll be able to stand up to me in the ring. I know that you’ll blame me for the fall of Wild and Dangerous, even when it’s clear as day that it was you. You’ll get really stupid and think that you should challenge me to a match to get some false sense of satisfaction for me hanging your caramel ass out to dry…but it wouldn’t have happened if you had just left well enough alone!” The crowd is more rowdy than ever now. Chants keep piling on while the Barracuda tries to continue ranting. “None of this would have happened if you had just listened to me, Dominic! If you would just forget what these idiots out here think about you! They’ll never jump into the ring to help you when your getting bum rushed by whatever little faction springs up. They’ll never get you a Tag Team Championship! They’ll never do anything but watch and talk about it like they know a God damned thing about what we have to endure! That’s the choice you’ve made, and thought it pains me to just leave you be cause trust me, right now, I’d have no problems whooping your ass for what you’ve done, brother or not! However, that’s no the road I plan to take cause I am better than that. I am a better man than you, Dominic! I don’t take out my aggressions on my friends! But if you ever cross me again all bets are off, Dominic. So be warned…don’t f(bleep!)k with me!” Dropping the microphone to the mat, Johnny ends his tirade. His music hits loudly while the crowd chants obscenities towards him and finally, he rolls out of the ring and makes his way towards backstage. “Well,” begins Pete. “The Barracuda has given his twisted side of the story but I’m not buying it! Wildchild had no intentions of leaving Johnny, even when things were looking down for the team. He stuck through the thick and the thin, but the Barracuda jumped ship when it didn’t sail his way!” “Oh, please, Pete,” King dismisses his announcing partner with a wave of his hand. “Johnny’s right about everything. You just like that spot monkey Wildchild so much that you’ve let it cloud your judgment on this situation. I just hope, for the sake of Wildchild, that he takes heed to the Barracuda’s advice and stay away from him.” “Somehow, I just don’t see that happening,” adds Pete. As we… FADE OUT.

First, there was nothing. “GOD DAMN MOVE WHEN I SAY MOVE, MOTHERFUCKER!” And then there was Chemlab, the abrasive beats of “Exile on Mainline” grinding their way across the Five Seasons Center, such signs as “KOJIBAN”, “TKO STOLE MY WITTY SIGN”, and next to it “SO HE BROUGHT THAT ONE INSTEAD” being picked up by the camera as the challenger strides out from behind the curtain, flanked by Card and Natasha, one-half of the World Tag Team Championships strapped around his waist. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to Smarkdown!” says Pete, struggling to make himself heard over the grinding emanating from the speakers. “And if you’re just tuning in, folks, have we got a treat for you! It’s gonna be KOJI Kitano, one-half of TKO, against JJ Johnson, one-third of Cucaracha Internacional, who TKO stole the tag titles from! All grudges aside, KOJI and JJ are two of the fastest men in the fed, and they’re going to be facing off in a Cruiserweight Title match.” “For once, I agree with you Pete. As well as speed, both are world class martial artists, and neither are slouches on the mat. If we’re lucky, we’ll get a technical classic. If not, we’ll still get a fun spotfest. It truly is a win-win situation with these two.” says King, KOJI rolling into the ring and popping back up as Card and Natasha use the steps, and Natasha helps Kitano remove his jacket, Card taking his mirrored sunglasses, and both leaving the ring as referee Brian Warner checks the challenger for weapons. And the lights drop out. “Well, that’s odd. Apparently, KOJI’s so hot that he burned the lights out.” Pete squints in the light, but no, King has not been replaced by Bobby Riley. "HE HAS NOT CONFESSED, HE HAS MADE NO STATEMENT, CHARGES OF MURDER HAVE BEEN ACCEPTED AGAINST HIM." And with that, the opening notes of Fear Factory's "Scapegoat" burst forth from the speakers, the lights flashing red and white on the two grungy tones before dropping back into black. The Smarktron kicks into life, showing various highlights from JJ Johnson's matches as the lights continue to flash on the notes, alternating red and white with each tone that emanates from the sound system. The drums kick in, and the house lights fade in, only slightly, bathing the arena in an eerie blood red light as smoke begins to billow from the stage. “Well, looks like someone’s got a new entrance.” starts Pete, but that’s as far as he gets... RRRRRRRRRRAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!! ...before Burton C. Bell's throaty growl comes tearing out of the speakers, and with it comes Johnson, his already somewhat intimidating look accented by the flashing lights. With KOJI and company looking on, Johnson strides forward, his eyes never leaving his opponent as he trots up the steps before stepping into the ring and climbing to the second rope, throwing his arms wide as he glares out over the crowd, taking in all of the pro-TKO signs. After a moment, he steps back down, and removes his jacket before handing his belt to Warner as Funyon lifts the mic to his mouth. “The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL, and it is for the SWF Cruiserweight Championship! Introducing first, on my right, the challenger. In the black tights, with the silver trim. He stands six feet one, and weighs in tonight at 219 pounds...from Saitama Prefecture, Japan...KOOOJIIIIII...KIIIITTAAAAANNOOOOOO!!!!” And on that announcement, black and silver streamers fly up from behind KOJI! Funyon and Warner both look around, confused, as Johnson arches an eyebrow. Meanwhile, Card and Natasha are digging in their pockets. When they emerge, they’re holding more streamers, which are thrown into the ring as KOJI beams. “YEEAAAAAHH!!” “Puh-lease. Streamers?” asks Pete, almost aghast that there are streamers in a wrestling match on US soil. “Well, it is a championship match, and he is Japanese. I guess Card and Natasha didn’t want to make him feel not at home.” explains King, with a massive cheesy smile on his face. Funyon grins at the positive reaction, before clearing his throat and continuing. “And his opponent, on my left, in the red trunks with the white trim. He stands six feet one, and weighs in tonight at 219 pounds...from Windsor, Ontario, Canada, with a current reign of 63 days...he is the reigning AND DEFENDING SWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPION...J...J...JOOOOHHNNNSSOONNN!!!!” “BOOOOO!” No streamers for the champion, but Johnson doesn’t really seem to care as Funyon and various cameraman rush to clear the ring, Brian Warner holding the Cruiserweight Championship above his head and showing it to all sides of the ring. The Crusierweight Championship Match graphic fills the screen, before being swept away along with the last of the streamers, and Warner signals for the bell. DING DING DING! “And we’re underway!” cries Pete, KOJI and JJ circling each other, KOJI in his normal style as Johnson adopts a shoot-fighting stance, which while comfortable for him is still far from his normal approach to a wrestling match. KOJI and Johnson move closer and closer, and KOJI extends his hand for a test of strength, but Johnson has other plans as he throws a HARD roundhouse kick! KOJI sees it coming, and it goes whistling over his head as he drops down to the mat, swinging his leg around to sweep the champion, but Johnson sees THAT coming and jumps. KOJI is up quick, however, and he immediately throws a roundhouse of his own, but again the champ sees it and drops onto his belly on the mat. Kitano tries a stomp, but Johnson rolls onto his back, and tucks his knees up under his chin before kipping up and out of the way of KOJI’s sweep kick aimed at his head. Again, KOJI swings himself up to his feet, and Johnson tries a thrust kick to the stomach, but KOJI catches it, and sticks his middle finger in the teetering Canadian’s face before throwing his foot away... *SMAAAAACK!* ...only for Johnson to continue his momentum and catch KOJI in the face with a Dragon Whip! Despite Johnson coming out on top, the crowd applauds the impressive martial arts display, and the Canadian champion dives on top of the stunned Kitano for the cover. ONE! TWO! But KOJI sticks his arm up, and Johnson’s hopes for an early victory are shattered. Instead of continuing his attack, Johnson gets up, and waits for KOJI to shake the cobwebs out of his head and rise to his feet. “This is certainly not in Johnson’s usual gameplan, King. Usually, he tries to keep his opponent grounded as much as possible, and wear him down for a submission hold, or a high-impact suplex.” notes Pete, as KOJI palms himself in the ear a few times to try and knock sense back into his brain. When he does, he notices that Johnson is offering a test of strength. KOJI looks at Card, who gives him a look of “if you want too”, before accepting the hand. With one-half of the knuckle lock in, Johnson is slightly more cautious, and flexes his fingers a few times, KOJI and Johnson brushing fingers lightly a few times before they take the plunge. Johnson looks like he’s gaining the advantage, forcing KOJI ever downwards. But it’s hard to maintain an advantage when a glob of spit just flew into your eyes. “Well, THAT wasn’t necessary.” mutters Pete. “Nonsense, Drain Clogger. As somebody once said, win “YEEAAHH!!” As King and Pete bicker, the Iowa fans cheer KOJI’s cheat to win attitude, and KOJI responds, in the absence of ability to give them the finger, with an EVIL~ sneer as he forces the semi-blinded champion to his knees. Johnson shakes his head hard from side to side, his hair flailing about as he attempts to dislodge the wad of saliva. Having failed, Johnson instead sneaks his leg around from behind him and hooks it around KOJI’s leg before pulling, bringing the challenger to the mat and using his grip to pull the Japanese man towards him and into a pinning predicament. ONE! TWO! But KOJI breaks his grip and rolls away, onto his stomach, and Johnson finally wipes the saliva out of his eyes before scooting in with a front facelock. KOJI manages to slide his way out from under the champion, and rolls before applying a facelock of his own. Johnson sticks an arm up in the hold, and pulls KOJI’s grip apart before scrambling behind and applying a hammerlock. Johnson slips under, and puts on his own hammerlock, but KOJI returns the favor before releasing the arm and scooting over into a side headlock. Johnson slips his head out, and scoots forward before grabbing KOJI’s head and applying a cravate, wrenching on KOJI’s head and neck as he takes a breather. “And finally, the action slows down. These two don’t seem to be letting the fact that their respective factions are at war get in the way of good ol’ fashioned wrestling.” says Pete, almost beaming with pride as Johnson continues to tug. “Except, you know, when KOJI flicked JJ off. And spit in his eye. Which I loved.” corrects King, as KOJI manages to slip his arm into the hold and break it, twisting away and facing Johnson before ramming his shoulder into the champion’s gut and tossing him overhead with a release Northern Lights suplex. Johnson decides to abandon the mat game for now and gets to his feet, so Kitano rolls forward before rolling back onto his shoulders and kipping up. Before he can turn around, Johnson rushes in and latches on a rear waistlock. KOJI immediately begins evasive tactics, spreading his base as wide as he can before sticking his arm down into the lock, attempting to pull Johnson’s hands apart. The fingers are locked tight, and stay locked, but KOJI’s sandbagging prevents him from being dropped most unceremoniously on his neck with a German, so Johnson breaks the hold himself before clocking KOJI in the back of the head with a hard elbow. Kitano grabs at the base of his neck, and Johnson takes advantage of his arm’s position by snaking his arm up and locking on a half nelson before bringing him over and dropping him on his head with a suplex! “HAAAAALF NELSON SUPLEXU!” shouts King, in a manner that makes all within hearing distance turn and stare. Johnson, meanwhile, makes the cover. ONE! TWO! THR-NO! KOJI kicks out at 2.5, and Johnson wastes no time in grabbing his hair and pulling him to his feet... ...only for Kitano to snap into animation, and throw Johnson out of the ring! Through the ropes, of course. Johnson hits the apron hard on the way out, and lands on the mats outside clutching at his back. Warner warns KOJI about things like that, but if Kitano hears him, he doesn’t acknowledge him. Instead, he sprints to the ropes, rebounding off and charging full speed to the opposite ropes before leaping gracefully to the top strand, then sailing off into the wild blue yonder, flipping before coming down HARD on the newly arisen Johnson with a 450 lariat! *BANG!* “YEEAAAHH!!” The crowd leaps to its feet on impact, roaring with excitement as the flippy-floppy clothesline hits its target, and Johnson is on his back for the second time in 15 seconds as KOJI rolls away from the wreckage, clutching at his knee. “Spectacular move by KOJI, and that might finally turn the tide of this match in someone’s favor!” shouts Pete, on his feet alongside the rest of the arena, except for two men. One, up in the cheap seats, who is a devout heel supporter, and another, at the announce table, who is the greatest heel of all time. “Yeah. Johnson’s. Look how KOJI landed hard on his knees, and I have it on good faith that KOJI doesn’t wear kneepads. Or, if you won’t believe that, look at how KOJI’s grimacing as he grabs his leg. That’s not a smile of joy, I’ll tell you that much.” smirks King, as KOJI hobbles to his feet, Card checking on him with a slightly worried look on his face. KOJI assures him he’s fine, although his limp says otherwise, and so Card strides over to confer with Natasha, all the while looking at KOJI with that same worried look. Johnson, meanwhile, has gotten up, although gingerly, and he meets the oncoming KOJI with a sharp kick to the left knee before grabbing him and whipping him with all of his strength, knees-first into the steps! *CLAA-AA-AANGG!!* The force of the impact sends KOJI flipping over the steel, and his back makes a *whap!* as it slams into the pads, Kitano clutching at his knees still as Johnson rolls into and out of the ring to break the count. With Warner admonishing him, Johnson reaches over the guardrail and shoos a fan out of his seat before grabbing said seat and setting it in the corner, against the barrier. He then picks up KOJI, and sets him in the chair before delivering a HARD kick to the knee that doubles the smaller half of TKO over with pain. “Ummm...what is Johnson doing, King?” Pete is rightfully curious, as maneuvers such as this aren’t exactly commonplace. “Hell if I know, Pete. I predict it ends well, though. For Johnson and I, anyway.” King says, equally confused. Meanwhile, Johnson has started walking across the ringside area, clapping his hands over his head in an attempt to get some sort of chant started. Apart from the “heel section” in the nosebleeds screaming “O-LE, OLE OLE OLE!”, nobody picks up on it, and Johnson simply shrugs his shoulders... *CLANG!* ...before sprinting across the ringside area and slamming KOJI’s head into the rail with a Yakuza kick! KOJI slumps out of his seat, and Johnson grabs him and picks him up before rolling him into the ring. He then takes his time walking up the stairs, stops on the apron, and then hops up to the top rope before leaping skyward and coming down on KOJI’s battered knees with a knee drop of his own. KOJI sits up in agony, only for Johnson to put him back down with an overhand slap to the chest before grabbing his leg and dragging him into the middle of the ring, where he drops a leg on his before tying KOJI’s up around his, tucking the TKO member’s right leg into the crook of his left knee, then trapping his ankle with his own leg, locking on an old-school Indian Deathlock! “Indian Deathlock! One of the most efficient holds in the bid’ness, and it’s applied perfectly here by the champion! That’ll definitely wear those already-battered legs down.” the Miami Menace says, doing his job quite well as Johnson leans up on his elbow and shoves at KOJI’s knee with his foot, causing the man from Japan to writhe on the mat as pain shoots through his leg. Satisfied, Johnson stops pushing and sits up, a mocking grin on his face as he looks at KOJI. KOJI responds by sitting up and sticking his thumb in Johnson’s eye! Johnson immediately grabs at it as Warner admonishes his opponent, but doesn’t release the hold, much to KOJI’s chagrin. That chagrin grows ever greater as Johnson, now angry, puts the foot on the knee and once more begins to shove, again making the hold work its magic as KOJI’s eyes bug out. “LET’S GO KO-JI!” *CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP* “LET’S GO KO-JI!” *CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP* The fans begin to chant, trying to will Kitano back into the match, and KOJI sits up with a fire in his eyes... *DOINK!* ...but Johnson puts one of the fires out with a thumb to the eye! The crowd boos at his literal eye-for-an-eye tactics, which confuses the Canadian, as they just cheered that thing fifteen seconds ago. Notching it up to their being in Iowa, Johnson puts pressure on the hold once more before he starts chanting something. His voice is very, very raspy, and hard to pick up, but those in the first row can barely pick up what he’s saying. “LET’S GO JOHN-SON!” *CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP* “LET’S GO JOHN-SON!” *CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP* Johnson looks around, but the chant doesn’t seem to be picking up, except for in one area of the audience. “LET’S GO JOHN-SON!” *CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP* “For the love of God, King, sit down.” Finally, KOJI props himself up on his hands, and begins to crabwalk to the ropes, tugging Johnson along as he goes. Johnson tries to pull himself back, but he starts too late, and KOJI manages to reach out and grab the ropes. “COME ON, BREAK IT JJ! ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FI-” And Johnson quickly untangles his legs from KOJI’s before standing, pulling KOJI back into the center of the ring, and running to the ropes before springing off and backflipping with a quebrada! KOJI rolls out of the way, and Johnson has the wherewithal to put his feet down, where he lands. And goes down, screaming as best he can with his mangled vocal cords, grabbing at his right ankle as he rolls around. “Oh...that’s not good. Ladies and gentlemen, I think Johnson might be hurt.” says Pete, in a solemn voice, as Johnson begins scrabbling to untie his boot, Warner calling other refs down to help. They finally get the boot off, and Warner tries to touch the leg, only for Johnson to scream and shove him away. KOJI, meanwhile, is watching, and with Card yelling at him from the floor, a sinister grin forms on his face. The refs move out of the way to see if Johnson can get up on his own, and KOJI takes that advantage to shoot in, grappling for the wounded ankle. *POW!* Which comes off the mat and shoots its bare heel into KOJI’s orbital bone, a ominous pop sounding through the air as KOJI snatches at his eye and rolls out of the ring, to be tended to by Card and Natasha. Meanwhile, in the ring, Johnson puts his boot back on, with the greatest of ease, before kipping up and proceeding, to massive jeers, to put on a flawless display of Riverdancing. A dance, you realize, that requires perfectly healthy ankles. “BOOOOOOOOO!” “HA! I LOVE IT! KOJI got greedy, and Johnson made him pay! KOJI may be crown prince of the Japanese rudos, but he’s no match for the Lord of the Dance!” shouts King, giving Johnson a nickname so ridiculous that it’s never, ever going to be mentioned again. KOJI, after a quick checkover, is deemed to be fine by Card, and so rolls back into the ring to come face-to-face once more with the wannabe-Flatley. Johnson throws a kick at his head, but in a scene reminiscent of earlier, KOJI ducks and, instead of trying for a sweep, leaps into the air before wrapping his wounded legs around Johnson’s head and dropping him on his skull with a reverse hurricanrana! KOJI gets to his feet, although gingerly, and immediately drops to one knee before engaging in a double-bicep pose as he shouts at the top of his lungs. “SPIIIIIIIIIIIIIKEUH!!” “YEEEAAAAAAHHH!!!” KOJI then pins the champion, hooking the leg as far as he can as Warner drops down to make the count. ONE! TWO! THREENOO!!! Johnson JUST shoots the shoulder up, and KOJI immediately begins to regret taking the time to engage in that pose instead of just making the pin. Pete agrees. “See, now, in the time it took him to form that double-bicep, the referee could’ve slapped the mat for a third time, and we’d be looking at a new champion right now.” “Well, Pete.” King begins. “KOJI let his ego get the best of him. He’s been dominated for a good part of this match, and I think he’s as surprised as we are that he was able to pull off a move like that with his legs in the shape they’re in.” “KOJI’s still got quite the vertical leap on him, King.” says Pete as KOJI stomps at Johnson, before running an executing a springing quebrada... ...that he turns into a somersault senton, crashing down HARD on Johnson’s chest! The crowd cheers, but the move was not without costs, as KOJI grabs at his legs for a moment before draping himself over Johnson. ONE! TWO! NO! Johnson shoots the shoulder up even quicker than the reverse hurricanrana put him down for, and KOJI rolls off of him and to his feet, biding his time. Johnson gets up soon after, and KOJI rushes in and delivers a HIGH KICKAAAAA to Johnson’s jaw, dropping him to one knee. KOJI’s knee is burning, but that doesn’t stop him from running and stepping up onto Johnson’s knee before grabbing his head and flipping over with his signature flipping neck snap! “SHINING DARKNESS! But again, KOJI can’t take advantage right away!” Pete shouts. “Either he’s going to have to stop using moves that require a lot of leg use, or he’s going to have to use leg moves that land him on top of Johnson.” KOJI goes to drape himself over Johnson, but the Canadian has already recovered, and rolls out onto the apron. KOJI starts to get up, but Johnson is up as well, and he grabs at his neck before pulling himself to the top rope and dropping down with another knee drop! *BANG!* It’s been KOJI’s experience that knee drops hurt a lot worse when they hit you, and so by the time Johnson’s in mid-air, Kitano is already up and sprinting to the opposite ropes. Johnson hits hard, and winces a little, but then looks up to see something far worse than that coming towards him. Namely, 219 pounds of KOJI, with a 15 foot head start. Knee-first. *CAA-FUCKING-RAAAACK!!!* “BUSAAAIIIIKUUU KNEE KICK!!!” cries Pete, Johnson’s eyes glazing over before he slumps lifelessly to the mat. Card bangs on the apron, and KOJI squeezes his eyes closed, trying to force the now-excruciating pain out of his knee. It doesn’t work, but with the Cruiserweight Title so close, and another coup over Cucaracha Internacional as well, KOJI forces himself through it as he once again drapes himself over the champion’s shoulders. ONE! TWO! THREE~! “NO! FOOT ON THE ROPES! BUT DAMN IF THAT WASN’T CLOSE!” KOJI can even hear Pete, he’s yelling so loud, and he sits bolt upright...and sure enough, Johnson’s foot is draped over the bottom rope. KOJI swears, more spitting the word than saying it, then grabs the roped leg and hooks it as he pins Johnson once again. ONE! TWO! THR-SHOULDER UP! All three members of TKO are growing restless now, frustated at KOJI’s inability to follow up; frustrated at Johnson’s refusal to stay down. And so long as Johnson doesn’t stay down, the better chance he has of winning. And they can’t be having that. KOJI gets up, rubbing his knee as he waits for Johnson to rise. It’s really starting to hurt now, almost feels like it’s on fire. In fact, KOJI would probably prefer it was on fire. But again, with victory this close, he can’t slow down. He can’t stop. It’s that close. Johnson pulls himself up on the ropes, and KOJI rushes forward, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and throwing him into the ringpost! *CLANG!* “YEAH!” The grin returns to KOJI’s face as Johnson grabs at his shoulder, and he walks around the ring slapping his chest with a big cheesy grin on his face. Brian Warner goes up, getting in KOJI’s face and admonishing him for such dirty tactics. And that’s when Card strikes. Johnson, despite his pain-clouded state, sees the canister in his hands... *PFFFSSSHHTT!!* “AEROSOL EQUALIZER!” ...but Johnson got his hand up. Card swears, then strolls away innocently, and KOJI pulls Johnson out of the corner before throwing a quick side kick. Johnson takes it in the ribs, but he blocks the next one, and shoves KOJI back onto his back. KOJI rolls through, ignoring the pain in his leg, and Johnson thrusts his foot towards Kitano’s knee. KOJI’s too quick, though, and he spreads his legs and easily dodges the thrust kick. Which would be marvelous, if that was what Johnson is doing. But it isn’t, and Johnson continues his leg thrust before diving with his other leg, sticking it behind KOJI’s leg and dropping down to the mat before rolling to the left and bringing Kitano down to the mat, with a flying hiza-jujigatame! KOJI is quick to sit up and grab Johnson’s leg before he can lock on the hold, and the two come to a standstill, both attempting to force the Canadian’s leg in their preferred direction. Johnson strains, but KOJI refuses to stop pushing. The same is in reverse, as Johnson refuses to stop pushing. Brian Warner sees Card out on the floor, and knowing his reputation, takes his eyes off the struggle in mid-ring momentarily to warn Technical Perfection against any interference. KOJI sits up, as Johnson does, both getting in each other’s face as they continue to struggle. KOJI stares at Johnson, grimacing with the effort, his hands currently occupied with Johnson’s leg. Johnson stares back at KOJI. And grins. Before sticking his palm in KOJI’s eye. “AAAAAIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE!!!” Warner jumps at the scream, then turns to see KOJI clutching his eyes with both hands. Johnson smiles, then brings his leg down and fully locks in the cross-kneebreaker, pulling hard. The pain in KOJI’s eyes is immense, but the pain in his leg is worse, and the eyes can be washed out. He’s really only got one option. TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP! DING DING DING! “Scapegoat” hits, and Johnson holds onto the lock for a second longer before releasing the hold and accepting his belt from Brian Warner, Card and Natasha dumbstruck on the outside as Funyon raises the microphone to his mouth. “Here is your winner, and STILL...SWF Cruiserweight Champion...J...J...JOHHNSON!!” “Ha! Perfect! KOJI taps out, and it was all through principle and discipline!” cries King, gloating again. “And pepper spray. Either way, ladies and gentlemen, stick around for our main event. Will Luchamania continue to run wild, or will Mags’ doom run swift and strong like a river? A river of doom!” Johnson takes the belt and leaves the ring, penetrating Card with a nasty glare. Card glares back, and almost gets in the Canadian’s face, but Johnson raises his palm, and Card is quick to back off. Johnson laughs at that, and continues to walk to the back, KOJI grabbing at his eyes in the ring the last camera angle as we... FADE OUT

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” begins Longdogger Pete, “we have-” “I’M BILL FILLMAFF!” A skinny white guy with sunglasses and a cap that reads “Ultimate Fillmaff” jumps up and down behind LDP. “Oh, for the love of God.” LDP turns to look behind him, then back to address the fans. “Fans, if you’ve paid attention to swf.com, I’m sure you’vee seen a number of posts by this alleged... world poker champion, Bill Fillmaff. And as you can clearly see, he is in attendance tonight.” “TELL THEM I AM A WORLD CHAMPION!” “Recently, he made an open challenge to face anyone on the roster. Thankfully, for this show, no one has accepted. Though I have heard rumors that he may be debuting in just a few short days. “I’M WORTH MILLIONS! TELL THEM TO BUY MY BOOK!” Bill Fillmaff, in a hurry, leaps out of his seat and knocks over the nachos of the man next to him. The man gets up. I’d put him at 6’5”, and double what Fillmaff weighs. “OH SHIT!” The man grabs Fillmaff’s collar and exhales nacho and beer gas into the world poker champion. “You’re that skinny little twig! I’m gonna pound your face in!” Fillmaff squirms in the large man’s grasp. He has now noticed that there are tattoos circling his arm, which means he hits twice as hard. He panics. “STEVE! STEVE! DEFEND ME!” If it could be possible, and even skinnier twig comes in between Bill Fillmaff and Tattoo Arm. “You won’t be hurting Mister Fillmaff, sir,” he says calmly. Fillmaff squirms free of the grasp and runs in a hurry as Steve gets a substitute face pounding. Security quickly descends on the situation, with two walkie-talkie wearing blackshirts chasing after Fillmaff. “Oh dear lord,” sighs LDP. “Who on earth would sign this guy to a contract.” “It’s money,” replies King. “Would you pay money to see this guy get his ass kicked?” “Hell yes I would! But I also don’t need it wasting segments on an otherwise perfectly fine show.” King licks his lips. “I bet you, the moment this poker playing scrawny kid is destroyed, our ratings will go big. Big!” LDP sighs again. “We’re gonna take a commercial break.”

“We are coming back to you, LIVE~ from the Five Seasons Center in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, and rumour has it that if Bruce Blank wins this match, TKO might have to give up their Number One Contender status,” Pete greets the returning audience as the opening notes of ‘Don’t Ask Me No Questions’ by Lynyrd Skynyrd kicks up over the PA system, “but I guess we’ll have to wait and see.” “Yeah, it’s not like the booking committee normally makes that much sense,” King replies, “I mean come on, they’re giving a World Title shot to Spike Jenkins. On Pay-Per-View!” The dated country-rock of Skynyrd rolls out across the Five Seasons Center and it is soon followed by the imposing figure of Bruce Blank, complete with cowboy hat and sour B.O. As he saunters down the entrance ramp the man from Mobile makes sure to shout and spit at the fans, even swiping one little girl’s giant pretzel and munching on it as he goes. “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall,” Funyon booms. “Introducing first, from the Dirty Tornado Trailer Park in Mobile, Alabama; he weighs in tonight at 295lbs and is the SWF Hardcore Gamer’s Champion, this is BRRRRRUUUUUCCCEEEEE… BLAAAAAANNNNNNK!!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Bruce doesn’t seem that bothered by the lack of fan support and finishes the pretzel before belching noisily, then steps up to the ring apron and swings one leg over the ropes to step into the ring. He then removes his cowboy hat and places it carefully on top of one turnbuckle before handing the HGC belt to referee Brian Warner. “Bruce Blank has had an impressive run as Hardcore Champion, including successfully defending the belt against former champion JJ Johnson in the FAO Schwartz match at Genesis VI,” Pete points out, “and we’ll have to see how TORU Takahara copes with him. However, it’s worth bearing in mind that TORU has yet to be pinned or made to submit in the SWF!” As if on cue the ramblings of Lynyrd Skynyrd fade out and are abruptly replaced by the harsh drums and bleak riffs of ‘Teethgrinder’ by Therapy? The Smarktron starts showing clips of the Japanese Hammer delivering his Shooting Star Press and Tiger Driver. Shortly afterwards a familiar trenchcoated form appears silhouetted at the top of the entrance ramp, flanked on one side by Chris Card and on the other by Natasha. “And his opponent,” Funyon declares, “accompanied to the ring by Chris Card Enterprises; from Saitama Prefecture, Japan, he weighs in tonight at 264lbs; this is the ‘Japanese Hammer’, TOOOORRR-RRUUUUUUU… TAKA-HAAAAAAAARRRRRR-AAAAAAAA!!” “YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Some people in the arena are still booing, but the vast majority have decided that TORU is infinitely preferable to Bruce Blank and are giving the Japanese Hammer a warm welcome. For his part TORU simply flips them off, but quite a few members of the crowd respond in kind. Meanwhile, Chris Card still holds the Tag Title that his proteges stole from Cucaracha Internacional two weeks ago as TORU takes off his coat (although keeps his shades on). With cheating on his mind Brian Warner has checked both men for weapons, and after pulling a small monkey wrench, a wad of chewing tobacco and an empty beer bottle from Bruce’s jeans pockets he turns his attention to TORU. However, Takahara’s more standard wrestling attire appears to conceal nothing of any importance. Warner hasn’t noticed that TORU hasn’t opened his mouth once though, nor that Blank has one fist closed behind his back… and as he turns to order the bell rung… *DING-DING-DING!* *pfffffffffft!* …TORU spits his Sake mist at Bruce Blank, but the big man ducks! Immediately Blank returns fire by hurling the salt in his fist at TORU, but the white powder simply scatters off Takahara’s shades! Brian Warner turns back around to find both men staring at each other, momentarily non-plussed - but then they both give each other the finger, and charge! *WHAM!* Bruce wins that exchange as the extra 30lbs helps the big man from Mobile flatten the onrushing TORU with a shoulder block; Bruce then turns and bounces off the ropes as TORU rolls onto his front, hoping to force Bruce to hurdle him. Unfortunately for the Japanese Hammer, Bruce had guessed this was coming and simply jumps in the air before burying both cowboy boots into TORU’s back! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Bruce reaches down and plucks the shades from TORU’s face, then puts them on and begins marching around the ring, evidently thinking that walking like someone who’s shat themselves makes him look Japanese. Unbelievably, the American crowd side with the foreigner over the smelly redneck and let Bruce know what they think of him by booing loudly; moments later TORU pushes himself up with a small wince at the pain in his back, and Bruce turns around to find himself confronted by a rather annoyed Oriental gentleman… *CRACK!* *CRACK!* *CRACK!* Three sharp kicks to the left leg take Blank’s support out from under him and the man from Mobile collapses down to one knee; TORU reaches out and rips his shades off Bruce’s face before throwing them over the ropes to Chris Card, then turns and bounces off the ropes, perhaps looking for the Shining Enzuigiri. Bruce has other ideas however, and explodes upwards with a lunging forearm smash that catches the rebounding Takahara flush in the jaw and sends him crashing to the canvas! *WHAM!* Now it’s Bruce’s turn to feel the effects of his opponent’s attack as he limps around for a couple of steps, trying to shake some life back into his leg, then returns to his fallen adversary and places the heel of one cowboy boot on TORU’s throat… ‘ONE!’ ‘TWO!’ ‘THREE!’ ‘FOUR!’ ‘FI-’ The smirking Bruce backs off, protesting his innocence to Brian Warner as TORU rolls around on the mat and tries to catch his breath. Blank isn’t going to give him a chance to do that however, and he pushes past Warner to grab TORU and haul him upright again, then before the man from Japan can fight back Bruce hooks him up and takes him back down with a Russian Legsweep! The big man then gets back to his feet and hits a legdrop on his prone opponent, then makes the cover… ONE! TWO!! …but TORU kicks out right after two! “The first cover of this match by Bruce Blank, but he’s not going to beat TORU that quickly!” Pete exclaims. “If at first you don’t succeed,” King responds as Bruce makes another cover, this time grinding his forearm into TORU’s face… ONE! TWO!! …TORU kicks out again however, and Bruce gives up on that idea. Blank gets back to his feet but there’s still fight in TORU and the man from Japan gets up pretty quickly as well; it doesn’t do him much good however, as Bruce nails him with a forearm and then Irish whips his opponent into the corner before following in with a shoulder to the gut that blasts the breath from Takahara’s lungs. With the man from Japan gasping, Bruce straightens up and waves his right arm around a couple of times, then lunges in and drives it right into TORU’s cheekbone! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Bruce Blank in control here,” Pete says, “as he’s been able to keep TORU on the ground and overpower him.” “Plus he’s used a bit of cheating,” King says as Bruce wraps his hands around Takahara’s throat and squeezes, “never underestimate the effectiveness of cheating!” ‘ONE!’ ‘TWO!’ ‘THREE!’ ‘FOUR!’ ‘FI-’ Bruce Blank breaks his hold just before Warner reaches ‘five’ and the inevitable disqualification that would ensue, but before the referee can give him much of a talking to Blank grabs TORU’s hand and Irish whips him clean across the ring to the other corner! Warner is still trying to get a word in, but Blank ignores him and revs up to charge across the squared circle with his shoulder lowered, looking to bury it in TORU’s gut again… *WHAM!* “YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” …but the Japanese Hammer moves at the last moment, and Blank only succeeds in ramming his shoulder into the steel ringpost! The big man grabs his shoulder and tries to withdraw, but TORU buys himself some time by booting Bruce in the ass and knocking him back into the post, shoulder-first! “TORU has a chance to turn this around, but he’s going to have to think quickly,” Pete exclaims, “because Bruce Blank has shown the he has a definite advantage when it comes to a power game!” As Bruce tries to extract himself from the corner once more TORU grabs the back of his jeans and pulls, then reaches up to take hold of Blank’s neck and drops down in a neckbreaker. However, the Japanese Hammer doesn’t immediately capitalise as he gets back up and looks around the ring for the tag team partner that isn’t there… “Get on him!” Card yells from ringside, pointing back at Bruce Blank. TORU has already remembered that he’s in this one on his own and turns back around even as the big man from Mobile gets up, one hand on the back of his neck. Bruce wants to regain the advantage as soon as possible and charges forwards with one arm extended, looking to pulverise TORU’s skull with a clothesline… but Takahara ducks, and as Blank sails past, kills his momentum and tries to turn on a dime the Japanese Hammer leaps into the air! *CRACK!* “What a gamengiri!” Pete shouts as TORU’s right boot connects with Bruce’s temple, “…but Bruce Blank doesn’t go down!” the Longdogger adds a moment later as the redneck merely drops to one knee. However, that’s good enough for TORU who is already scrambling for the ropes and rebounds to vault off Bruce’s knee… *KER-RACK!* “Shining Enzuigiri!” LDP bellows, and this time Bruce does slump forwards to the canvas. TORU grabs his opponent and rolls him onto his back, then heads for the turnbuckles and begins to climb. Bruce is starting to stir, but not quickly enough as TORU reaches the apex of his climb before backflipping off with the Air TORU Moonsault! *WHAM!* “YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Brian Warner drops to make the count… ONE! TWO!! …but Bruce Blank still has plenty in the tank, and Trailerpark Messiah kicks out just after two! TORU doesn’t waste any time in arguing with the referee and simply rolls under the ropes to the apron where he gets back to his feet. “T!K!O!” “T!K!O!” The chants of the fans (particularly the TKO Section in the front row) are ringing loud in Bruce Blank’s ears, and after a few seconds the big man regains enough breath to push himself back up to his feet. Blank circles on the spot, looking for his opponent… and sees him coming too late, as TORU jumps to the top rope and then into the ring with a springboard shoulderblock that takes his enemy down! “What agility from TORU!” Pete shouts. “Plus, I think he’s just got Bruce back for the shoulderblock that opened this match,” King points out. “Neither one of these two men is going to like being one-upped!” The crowd have now got firmly back into the match and (by and large) are chanting loudly in support of the man from Saitama Prefecture. TORU responds by giving them the double bird, which only serves to increase the volume, then grabs the winded Bruce Blank and hauls him up to his feet. TORU doesn’t help his opponent’s breathing difficulties however, as he first drives his left knee into the big man’s gut, then grabs Bruce’s mullet with his right hand and drags the Trailerpark Messiah over backwards into a modified backbreaker over his right knee! Bruce rolls away in considerable pain and TORU heads for the turnbuckles once more… but is brought up short by an unexpected sight. For atop this turnbuckle is Bruce’s cowboy hat… “Pete, these two men have raised disrespect to an art form,” King comments with some satisfaction as TORU pays his opponent back for the earlier theft of his sunglasses by taking the hat and placing it on his head before climbing to the top rope. “T!K!O!” “T!K!O!” With Bruce Blank on the canvas TORU takes sight on him, straightens the hat, belches noisily… and leaps off the top rope, plummeting down towards his opponent with his right knee aimed straight at the Alabaman’s breastbone! *THUNK!* “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” TORU raises his arms in recognition of the cheers of the crowd, then snatches the hat off his head and hurls it to the outside before making the cover! ONE! TWO!! TH- -but Bruce kicks out of the TORU Hammer, despite his shortness of breath! TORU takes the chance to roll over to where Chris Card is and have a brief discussion with his manager in Japanese while Bruce for some reason seems to be fiddling with the waist of his trousers… “TORU has taken over this match by using his superior speed and keeping Bruce Blank guessing,” Pete says, “but he really needs to keep on his opponent unless he wants to give Blank a chance to recover!” TORU nods as Card dispenses some last pearls of wisdom, then gets back to his feet and approaches Bruce Blank as the man from Mobile gets up to one knee… but suddenly Bruce hurls something at Brian Warner in a swirl of blue and red, then slams his forearm up between TORU’s legs! *CHING!* “Low blow!” Pete roars, accompanied by Chris Card, Natasha and most of the crowd… but Brian Warner was blinded by the Confederate flag that Bruce Blank had been using as a belt and just undid and threw at him, and he saw nothing! Before the official can recover and notice TORU’s suspiciously knock-kneed posture, Blank surges upwards to hoist the man from Japan bodily off his feet before dumping him back down with an inverted atomic drop that gives the Japanese Hammer every reason to be clutching his nether regions! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “BRUCE BLANK SUCKS!” “BRUCE BLANK SUCKS!” TORU is decidedly unstable, but he hasn’t fallen over yet… so Bruce decides to give him a bit of help as the big man backs off a pace, then strides forwards and mashes his cowboy boot into Takahara’s face! This time TORU does go over, although Bruce stumbles slightly on the follow-through and clutches at his sore ribs and chest. Brian Warner is now complaining at Blank about the flag that was thrown into his face, so Blank snatches the offending item back… then reaches down and starts choking TORU with it! ‘ONE!’ ‘TWO!’ ‘THREE!’ ‘FOUR!’ ‘FI-’ Yet again, Bruce ceases and desists milliseconds before the disqualification point, much to the frustration of both Brian Warner and the fans! Blank ignores the referee as he unhurriedly rethreads the flag through the belt loops of his jeans, then grabs the breathless Takahara and hoists him up to a standing position before bending him over and placing him in a standing headscissors. “This doesn’t look good…” Pete ventures as Blank points at one of the turnbuckles. “No,” King agrees with some concern, “if anything happens to TORU then TKO might not be able to take the Tag Titles officially from La Cocksucker and Jay Hawke!” These concerns are far from the mind of Bruce Blank however, and the Trailerpark Messiah bends down to wrap both powerful arms around TORU’s waist, then hoists his opponent up into the air and charges forwards! Chris Card and Natasha noticeably brace for impact as Blank drives TORU down towards the top buckle… *WHAM!* “TURNBUCKLE POWERBOMB!” Pete yells as Takahara slumps down to the mat while Bruce Blank grins. “Dear God, Blank might have snapped his spine!” Bruce seems characteristically unconcerned at his opponent’s plight, and uses one cowboy boot to roll TORU onto his back, then presses down on his chest and barks at Brian Warner to ‘count, gawd-dammit!’ ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHRRR- -but TORU kicks out! A look of surprise crosses Bruce’s face and the big man drops to his knees, then lays down atop Takahara’s body with a more traditional lateral press… ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR- -NO! Foot on the ropes! “Hmm, are you sure TORU got his foot there on his own?” King asks in mild amusement, settling back in his seat with his hands clasped across his chest. “…well, Chris Card does seem rather close,” Pete admits. Meanwhile Bruce Blank seems to think that something is fishy as well, but when he turns around Chris Card is the picture of innocence. If innocence had long black hair, a vaguely saturnine goatee and wore a sharp Italian suit, that is. So really, not that innocent-looking at all. Blank doesn’t think so either and begins berating the British ex-pat while Card holds his hands up to signify that he never touched TORU’s foot in any way. “I can’t stand the man, but I’ll give Chris Card this,” King sighs grudgingly, “he sure knows how to run interference.” Bruce Blank is getting more and more animated, to the point where he’s almost leaning out of the ring to argue with Technical Perfection more vehemently. Meanwhile, Card has casually drawn attention to the tag title belt adorning his left shoulder, and the sight of it winds the Nightmare Express member up still further… until finally Bruce remembers that he has a match to win, and turns back to deal with TORU Takahara. With what is probably meant to be an arrogant sneer (but just comes off as a facial tic), Bruce Blank hauls his opponent up and places him into another vertical headscissors… ‘SWE-ET HOME AAAAAL-ABAMA!!’ “Christ on a cracker!” Pete gasps, holding his ears, “his singing’s as bad as his breath!” With a grunt of effort the big man from Mobile hoists TORU off the ground again into another powerbomb position, but this time he heads out towards the middle of the ring ready for the devastating running power bomb… but as he reaches the midway point TORU suddenly seems to come to his senses, and the Japanese Hammer snaps backwards with remarkable flexibility to take Blank over with a hurricanrana! “YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Blank skids across the ring on the back of his neck before coming to a tangled halt in the ropes. It takes a couple of seconds before the big man’s brain registers what has happened, but then he lets out a bellow and begins picking himself up, then heads back towards his opponent… and is met by a boot to the gut! “T!K!O!” “T!K!O!” TORU Takahara is visibly in pain, but as Blank doubles over in front of him the man from Japan underhooks one arm… and then the other… “TORU’s setting up for the Tiger Driver, and this move has pinned Bruce Blank’s tag team partner Marcus Ward on two separate occasions!” Pete says in excitement… …but Bruce Blank weighs a lot more than Marcus Ward. In fact, he weighs a fair bit more than TORU. And after that turnbuckle power bomb, TORU’s back just isn’t up to hoisting 300lbs off the mat via a double underhook. So after a couple of seconds of frenzied effort TORU suddenly finds that his opponent’s arms are being wrenched out of his grip, before Bruce grabs Takahara behind each leg and straightens up to send the Japanese Hammer flying with a back bodydrop! *BANG!* TORU doesn’t get a chance to rest, as Blank homes in on him and hauls him to his feet, then forces his head against the ropes and drags him from one corner to another, rope-burning his eyes! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Takahara staggers away, swiping at his eyes as Bruce measures him… then raises one hand high overhead before plunging down onto TORU’s skull with the Iron Claw! “CLAAAAWWWWWWW!!” Pete howls in full oversell mode as TORU flails around, trying to dislodge Bruce massive hand from his head. “TORU is in trouble! Bruce Blank could be about to put him down!” But Chris Card, as ever, has other ideas. The man from Nottingham jumps up to the ring apron and grabs referee Brian Warner, protesting about Blank’s eyerake on the ropes. Warner is distracted for a half-second… and in that time TORU kicks out hard! *CHING!* “One-all,” King remarks, ticking off the box labelled ‘nutshots’ on his clipboard. Bruce’s devastating grip suddenly relaxes, leaving TORU with the freedom to move again. The Japanese Hammer sways for a moment as the blood thunders around his skull, but then he grabs Bruce’s greasy mullet and holds the redneck’s head in place while he slams his right knee into Blank’s jaw once… twice… then turns around and bounces off the ropes to deliver a thunderous running knee strike that takes the Trailerpark Messiah clean off his feet and knocks him to the mat! “T!K!O!” “T!K!O!” Brian Warner drops to make the count as TORU collapses on top… ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRR- -but Blank kicks out! TORU doesn’t look impressed with the count at all, but he gets back to his feet and boots Blank in the head to keep the big man down, then heads to the turnbuckles where he climbs to the second rope. From there the Japanese Hammer leaps off, aiming an elbow straight into Blank’s chest, then makes another cover! ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRR- -but Bruce kicks out again, not willing to give it up yet! This time TORU flips the bird at Brian Warner and wearily gets up again, hauling Bruce Blank with him. The big Alabaman isn’t quite dead weight yet but it pushes the battered TORU to the limit as he brings Bruce upright, then threads Blank’s far arm through his legs before applying a half-nelson of sorts to the right arm. Takahara then hoists with all his might, and manages to get Blank off the canvas before tilting him forwards and dumping him on his head with a rather sloppy TORU Driver! “TORU was able to lift Bruce there because he got better leverage with that pumphandle,” Pete points out, “but he didn’t get much height on the TORU Driver and I don’t think that’ll be enough to… wait a minute…” TORU hasn’t finished; the Japanese Hammer has got back to his feet and, with Bruce Blank on his back, is climbing the turnbuckles again. Once at the top TORU flips the crowd off before backflipping off, rotating through the air to come down with an Air TORU Moonsault Legdrop! *BANG!* TORU quickly rolls onto Bruce and Brian Warner leaps into positition… ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! “THAT WAS THREE!” “THAT WAS THREE!” Neither TORU nor Chris Card can believe it, but Brian Warner is adamant. With a visible sigh TORU gets back to his feet and reaches down to haul Bruce Blank up after him. This time the man from Japan tries to pick Blank up across his chest, perhaps for the Blockbuster Slam, but the impact of the moonsault legdrop seems to have hurt his back even more and he can’t get Bruce up! This problem is compounded as the big starts lashing out with elbows that crack into the side of TORU’s head and daze the Japanese Hammer. TORU’s grip relaxes and Bruce gets both feet firmly on the ground, then reaches up to TORU’s eyes and gouges at them! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Takahara staggers backwards clutching his face and as Brian Warner yells angrily Bruce Blank backs off into the ropes, then rebounds. TORU doesn’t see him coming and the Trailerpark Messiah explodes into him with a monstrous flying clothesline before landing on top for the pin! ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! But Warner only finds two! Bruce can’t believe it and for a moment both men just lie on their backs, staring blankly up at the lights and sucking in air. “King, both these guys have half-killed each other in there,” Pete says during the pause, “and you gotta believe that the next man to land a big bomb is gonna win this!” Bruce Blank is the first to stir, and although the big redneck has had a lot taken out of him by TORU’s offence he is still able to get to his feet. With TORU still struggling to get up to all fours Blank unhurriedly starts to untie his Confederate flag belt, ready to choke the life out of his opponent again… but TORU suddenly reaches up and grabs Bruce’s newly-loosened jeans, then pulls them down! “ARRGGHH GOD, MY EYES!” King bawls. “Now that’s a dirty trick,” Pete comments. “That’s not all that’s dirty!” It takes Bruce Blank a moment to realise that his sweaty and stained boxers with the words ‘Dirty South’ emblazoned across the ass are now on show to a national audience, but when he does the big man hastily leans down to grab his jeans and pull them up… and as his head comes down, TORU’s knee comes up to meet him halfway! *CRACK!* Bruce drops like a poleaxed bullock and TORU staggers upright, looking around for options. It seems to take the Japanese Hammer a moment to decide, but with his opponent prostrate on the canvas and no tag team partner available, Takahara only really has one option… “He’s going up top again!” Pete calls as TORU heads for the corner. “TORU has had good success with his aerial moves in this match; can he put Bruce away here?” TORU is climbing up the outside of the turnbuckles now, but he isn’t as sprightly as he was. What’s more, Bruce Blank has one chronic headache but he’s still stirring, and is now on one knee. In fact, as TORU reaches the top buckle Bruce sees him and reaches out one hand to shove Brian Warner right into the ropes, knocking TORU from his footing and causing the Japanese Hammer to crotch himself! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Brian Warner is yelling furiously at Blank, but the big man pays no attention. He pulls his pants up, refastens his belt and strides (unsteadily) over to the corner where TORU is, then begins mounting the turnbuckles himself! Once on the second buckle Blank reaches up and hooks Takahara in a front facelock… “He’s going for a superplex!” Pete shouts. “This should put TORU away, but it might take out Bruce Blank as well!” TORU has other ideas however. As Bruce prepares to arch backwards the man from Japan reaches up with his free hand and desperately digs his fingers into Bruce’s eyes… ‘YAAARRRGGGGHHHH!’ Bruce releases his grip and desperately claws at his face, and TORU brings one leg over the buckles to nail his opponent in the jaw and sending him crashing backwards to the canvas! Then as flashbulbs go off around the arena TORU slowly gets his feet back under him and rises to a standing position on the top buckle… then leaps off, backflipping as he goes! “SHOOTING STAR PRESS!” Pete bawls… *WHAM!!* ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! *DING-DING-DING!* “Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner,” Funyon booms, “TOOOOOORRRR-RRRRRUUUUUUUU… TAKA-HAAAAAAAAARRR-RRRRRRAAAAAAAAAA!!” The camera catches a quick flash of Chris Card’s grin as we FADE OUT

“Look Gus, I’m telling you, you and me could make a mint at Fox,” Ben Hardy is saying. “They don’t care what quality news they get; just take a look at-” abruptly the bespectacled interviewer realises that he’s on air, and hastily adjusts his tie. “Yes SWF fans, I’m here backstage with Chris Card,” Ben begins, trying to summon a smile. “So tell me Mr. Card,” he continues, turning to the man in the suit beside him, “how exactly can you justify your team stealing the prestigious SWF Tag Titles from Landon Maddix and Jay Hawke just moments after they’d defeated Wild & Dangerous for them?” “Justify it?” Card smirks at Hardy. “Please Benjamin, whatever makes you think I need to justify it?” Technical Perfection turns to look into the camera, beaming his cracked gravestone smile. “Landon; Mr. Hawke,” Card begins, “TORU and KOJI stole the Tag Titles for one reason, and one reason only - they wanted to. People have been wailing about ‘disrespect for the titles’ and similar rubbish, but you see gentlemen, as far as we here in TKO are concerned those belts are meaningless unless they are in our possession. We asked the smartest guy in the federation how in the hell you got those belts in the first place, but I’m afraid,” Card grins, “I didn’t have a clue. You are not a tag team; you are two wrestlers who happen to have been in the same ring at the same time. Wild & Dangerous was a tag team, although as was seen on Lockdown, a tag team far inferior to TKO-” “Um, could the fact that Johnny Dangerous abandoned his partner have anything to do with that?” Hardy suggests. “You’re missing the connotations of the word ‘team’, Ben,” Card chides him. “TORU and KOJI would never leave each other in the lurch like that; now, I’ll grant you that Johnny Dangerous walking out was unfortunate as it prevented us from giving the longest-reigning Tag Team Champions of all time the emphatic beating we could have done… but I think we proved a point.” Card turns back to the camera, smirk still in place. “As I was saying, as long as the belts are in our possession we are actually adding to their value, because they are with a team that deserves to hold them. To allow Landon and Mr. Hawke to touch them… well, it’d be like drinking champagne from a coffee mug, or using the Mona Lisa as a firelighter… or putting Landon Maddix in a limo,” he finishes with a grin, mind going back to when TKO’s monster truck crushed Landon’s stretch. “Face it Landon, even when you were under my guidance you looked damn stupid in a suit and a limousine, and now you’re like a spoilt brat with too much money and not enough sense. Money can never buy you class, Landon; not even I could give you that.” “So the Tag Titles are with us,” Card states firmly, “and believe me, that is where they’ll stay. Of course, it seems that at Ashes 2 Ashes you will come face-to-face with TORU Takahara and KOJI Kitano for the right to officially own the belts, but to be honest Landon, that’s going to be as much of a foregone conclusion as your SAT scores - complete and utter humiliation for you. In fact,” Technical Perfection continues, “if you abandon all claim to being a ‘rightful Tag Champion’ and just vacate the titles in favour of TKO, you might just have enough time to prepare before Max King returns and takes you apart. If you go up against us however, King will be walking all over you before the bruises have faded.” “Thank you Chris Card,” Hardy says, turning to the camera himself, “and back to Pete and King at ringside!” FADE OUT

Post in this thread if you are active. Also, post in this thread if you decide you would like some vacation time. Basically, please post your status, fed-wise, in this thread. Anybody who does not post in this thread to say they are active by Wednesday will be left off the Smarkdown card, and any cards thereafter, until their status is clarified. Thank you much.

EARLIER THAT NIGHT... Lockdown returns from a commercial for Danny Williams' Strong Style Ribs new TKO Sushi Smoothies to a shot of the packed Hilton Coliseum (Thankfully without either of the Hilton sisters). "Welcome back to Family Friendly Lockdown, live from Ames, Iowa! We've got some great family-orientated action tonight, and right now, The Crimson Skull takes on Jimmy the Doom," Pete says. "What a war those two had last week, though also in that match were Bruce Blank and Akira Kaibatsu, and since that was Storm, we are unable to show you any interesting footage here tonight," King adds. "Say, I wonder if Arch Griffon will make an appearance, here, in his home state," Pete wonders. *Bang* An explosion of sparks erupts from the stage, and out run a gaggle of women in gold shorts and tank tops. "Everybody dance now!" The women begin to provactaviley dance, pushing the limits of Lockdown to the edge as C + C Music Factory's "Gonna Make You Sweat (Everybody Dance Now)" goads them on. The Crimson Skull emerges from the back, Heff a step behind, and the evil duo walk down the ramp. "Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, being accompanied by his assistant, Heff, hailing from parts unknown, but currently residing in Kiev, Ukraine, he weighs in at two hundred, eighty-five pounds, THE CRIMSOOON SKUUUL!" Skull and Heff come to the ring as the Dance Squad disappears to the back. Skull slides in while Heff remains outside, ready to do his master's bidding. "Crimson Skull has been pretty impressive so far in his stint in the Smarks Wrestling Federation, but he's yet to pick up a title, and I bet that's frustrating," Pete says. "I'm not so sure, Pete. From what I hear, Skull is entirely focused on finding Cyclone Comet and destroying him. Now, granted, a title could help him do that, but I don't think he's too interested in gold," King points out. Before the Longdogger has a chance to make a rebuttal, the lights go out and roughly thirty hooded druids march out in two rows, chanting one word. "DOOM![/i]" "DOOM![/i]" "DOOM![/i]" The druids encircle the ring and Heff, but the evil assistant seems to recognize one of the druids and attempts to start up a conversation. It's cut short, though, as the lights snap back on and Boots Randolph's "Yakety Sax" blares over the speakers. Jimmy the Doom and Lois the Unethical walk down the ramp, Doom sporting a giant, lime green foam cowboy hat, and Lois clutching a ball of yarn and two large knitting needles under her arm. "And his opponent, being accompanied by Lois the Unethical, he is from Doomopolis, Doomtopia, and weighs in at two hundred, twenty-five pounds, JIMYYY THE DOOOOOM!" Funyon bellows in his rich baritone. Doom places his hat next to the announce table while Lois sits next to Funyon before beginning to knit. Jimmy slides into the ring and referee Tony Herra motions for the two men to shake hands. Skull is a bit reluctant, but has no choice as Jimmy forcibly takes his hand and pumps it up and down. Herrera backs the two men into opposite corners, then calls for the bell. DING! DING! DING! Doom doesn't waste any time and heads straight for Skull and snaps his head back with a palm strike. Jimmy lashes out with another, taking full advantage of his long reach. Trying to ignore the pain in his face, Crimson Skull rushes Jimmy and shoves him to the mat. Doom immediately starts to sit up, but Skull kicks him flat and then drops an elbow across his chest. The Crimson Skull stays down, making a lateral press. ONE-NO! "Jimmy the Doom kicked out before the ref even got to one. Crimson Skull should know that it takes a lot of keep Jimmy the Doom down," Pete states. "Yeah, but maybe Skull has some Zirconium rock with him, which just might be Doom's weakness," King offers. "That's one of the more idiotic things you've said in recent memory." "Yeah, well, we've got a giant, seven foot white Hindu guy walking around, and whatever Jimmy the Doom is, so it doesn't seem that far-fetched to me," King replies. Skull slides over to straddle Jimmy's torso and smacks him with a big left hand. Doom's head bounces off the mat and into another Crimson Skull punch. The cycle goes on for a few more seconds before Herrera stops the Skull for using closed fists. The Crimson Skull backs away, letting Jimmy the Doom to get to his feet. Skull throws a wild right hand, which Doom easily captures, but it leaves him wide open for an uppercut to the jaw. PODIUM! Jimmy shakes it off, keeps hold of Skull's right arm, and cracks him in the face with a headbutt. EGRET! Doom spins around, whipping Skull into the ropes. Jimmy races towards Crimson Skull, leaps, and plasters him with a flying palm strike. CONFLAGRATION! Doom covers Skull and Tony slides to the mat to count the pin. ONE! TW-NO! "Kick out from The Crimson Skull. Not even what you'd consider a near fall, but Skull certainly stayed down longer than Jimmy the Doom did." "That really doesn't mean anything, MacDougal. The Crimson Skull hits a lot harder than Jimmy the Doom, and he'll just keep chipping away at that freak's resiliency," King replies. "True, but are the kind of moves needed to keep Jimmy the Doom down allowable for Family Friendly Lockdown?" Pete inquires. "That's not important, Peter. What is important is Jimmy the Doom getting smacked around a bit." Jimmy backs away from Skull, allowing the big man to rise, then fires off a kick to his chest. Doom snaps off another kick, this one to the jaw that sends The Crimson Skull backpeddaling. Jimmy follows after the super villain and launches a spin kick, but Skull throws up a desperate right arm that keeps the blow from landing on his face as intended. Skull shoves Jimmy's leg away, spinning the Doomtopian around, and right into a huge kidney punch from The Crimson Skull. SEBORRHEA! Skull whirls around and bashes Jimmy in the back of the head with a double ax handle, sending him into the ropes. Doom stumbles out backwards, right into a choke hold from The Crimson Skull. "Pop Your Skull! The only thing, though, is the move is illegal, and The Crimson Skull has four seconds to get Jimmy the Doom to submit before he's forced to break it," Pete states. "I think he can manage it. Even Jimmy's tiny brain can't survive without oxygen for very long," King says. Skull shakes Jimmy around while Tony Herrera begins his disqualifying five count. One! Two! Three! Four! Fi- The Crimson Skull reluctantly releases Jimmy the Doom, who turns around, right into a spine buster. EGALITARIAN! The Skull points to the turnbuckles and marches over before climbing to the very top. Skull leaps off and doesn't as much fly as plummet, his cape providing no aerodynamic support. Regardless of his lack of soaring, The Crimson Skull misses his intended target of Jimmy the Doom, and instead smashes his late lunch of turkey hot dogs and baked bean into even smaller pieces. "He missed! The Crimson Skull went for the Crimson Splash, but Jimmy the Doom got out of the way! The tide has certainly turned!" Pete exclaims. "Not a chance, MacDougal. The Crimson Skull is going to get back up, and celebrate Arbor Day a little early, or late, depending on how you look at things, and plant Jimmy the Doom in the middle of the ring," King responds. Jimmy climbs to his feet walks to the opposite side of the ring and waits on The Crimson Skull to get up. Slowly, Skull rises and Doom charges the big man, leaping through the air and smacking Skull in the chest with a front kick, sending the super villain outside the ring. BARNACLE! "Disqualify him!" King shouts. "Why, what'd Jimmy the Doom do?" Pete asks. "He sent The Crimson Skull outside the ring! That's illegal!" "And you aren't standing up and applauding that?" Pete questions, confused. "No! It's Jimmy the Doom!" "Well, yes, but if I recall correctly, the rule states that the action should remain inside the ring, and I think it was an accident. Besides, it's not like Jimmy is out there hitting The Crimson Skull with a chair." Jimmy the Doom quickly apologizes to Tony Herrera, slides outside the ring and helps haul The Crimson Skull to his feet, and roll him back inside the ring. Jimmy hops to the apron, then clambers up to the top turnbuckle. Doom jumps off, flipping forward in the process before crashing into Skull's chest cavity. "Jimmy's Jump! He landed full-force on The Crimson Skull with that headbutt, and this might be it!" Pete yells. Jimmy stays down on The Skull for a lateral press and the referee drops to count the pin. ONE! TWO! THRE-NO! "Kick out! The Crimson Skull kicked out of Jimmy's Jump! How did he manage that?" "Easy, MacDougal. Firstly, Jimmy doesn't weigh very much, so it's not like there was a lot of force behind it. Secondly, Jimmy's barely gotten any offense in tonight, so The Crimson Skull is still relatively fresh. However, I don't know if he'd be able to take another one and kick out," King states. Doom pulls Skull to his feet, attempts and Irish whip, but it's reversed, and as Jimmy comes off the rebound, The Crimson Skull lunges, slamming the lanky Doomtopian into the mat with a spear. VIRGULE! Skull stays on top of Jimmy the Doom, and Tony Herrera dives to start the count. ONE! TWO! TH-NO! "Shoulder up from Jimmy the Doom after that absolutely massive spear!" "Yeah, it was loud. Made a weird sound, though," King comments. Skull lifts Jimmy off the mat and shoots him into the ropes. Doom ducks under a clothesline attempt and snares The Crimson Skull in a rear waistlock. Jimmy spins around Skull, but the super villain turns the other way and takes him down with a semi-clothesline, but mostly, it's just the two guys in a heap, with The Crimson Skull once more making a cover on Jimmy the Doom. ONE! TWO! THRE-NO! "Kick out again from Jimmy the Doom! He went for the Jimmy-Plex, but The Crimson Skull countered with a clothesline, and almost got the three count." "It won't take much longer, though. He's wearing down, bit by bit," King points out. "But one has to wonder, how much energy is The Crimson Skull expending in trying to wear Jimmy the Doom down?" Pete asks. "Oh, yeah, that's a great strategy: Make him tired by getting beat up." Skull picks Doom up once more, goes for another whip, but a quick Hand of Doom stops the super villain in his tracks. This seems odd, then, as Jimmy races for the ropes, bounces off, and jumps, wrapping his arms and legs around The Crimson Skull's upper body. Jimmy the Doom tightens his grip, but he's simply too light to take The Crimson Skull to the mat in this fashion, so Skull just falls forward, once again, pinning Jimmy's shoulders to the mat. ONE! TWO! THREE-NO! "He just kicked out! Jimmy the Doom might want to stop trying to go on the offensive, as he doesn't appear to be very successful. First the Jimmy-Plex gets countered, and now his flying body scissors takedown gets stopped prematurely," Pete says. "Just like your...wait. I hate Family Friendly Lockdown," King moans over not being able to ridicule Pete's sexual abilities. Skull gets to his feet and rocks Jimmy with a right cross. Another punch lands, but Jimmy answers this one back with a palm strike to the face. Doom fires off another palm thrust, then slips behind The Crimson Skull before latching on an inverted face lock. Jimmy bends Skull backwards, hooks his leg, and tries to lift the super villain, but a left hand stops him. Skull lands another wild punch, but Jimmy drops to one knee, driving the other into The Skull's back. Doom rises to his feet, pushing a wincing Skull forward. "Jimmy the Doom was going for the Doom Driver, but The Crimson Skull fought him off, but got a knee to the back for his troubles." "Yeah, but that's a lot better than getting dumped on your head," King points out. Doom turns The Crimson Skull around and wraps his hands around the masked man's throat. However, Skull does the same to Jimmy the Doom, and both men attempt to lift the other off his feet. Just as Tony Herrera is about to intervene, Jimmy the Doom's height and reach advantage pay off, as he's able to push The Crimson Skull far enough away to break Skull's grip, and lift the super villain into the air. Jimmy does a quick spin and drives The Skull into the mat with a sitout powerbomb, staying down to make a cover. ONE! TWO! THREE-NO! "Kick out! The Crimson Skull just barely kicked out of the Jimmy Bomb! I don't know if either man is going down tonight! We might have a draw, and that'd be a real shame, as this match has been pretty darn good, if I do say so myself," Pete says himself. "Are you blind, MacDougal? Where's the great technical skill? Throw Jay Hawke into this match, and it'd be an instant classic. Of course, he'd make both of 'em tap in about ten seconds flat, but that's another matter," King states. "So, you're saying that Jay Hawke would defeat the hulking behemoth here, The Crimson Skull?" Pete questions. "Well...you smell!" King exclaims, pointing at Longdogger Pete and inadvertantly poking him in the eye. Jimmy gets back up, backs away from The Crimson Skull, and adopts a very familiar stance with his arms outstretched and one leg in the air. "He's going for the Yak Kick," Pete points out. "Thank's Cap'n Obvious. See, it works even better now, since you'll probably have to get an eye patch," King says, allowing himself a laugh. The Skull slowly gets to his feet, back turned towards the patiently waiting Jimmy the Doom, and warily, Crimson Skull turns around, right into the Yak Kick. OBEISANT! Skull staggers backwards, dazed from the mighty kick, allowing Jimmy the Doom to step to his right side and apply an arm wringer. Jimmy boots The Crimson Skull in the stomach, doubling him over, but before he can complete the Doomsday combination, Skull violently shoves Doom away, right into the ropes. Rather than bounce off, seeing has how he's done a lot of that already in the match, Jimmy the Doom jumps onto the middle rope and springs off, twisting around, and snaring The Crimson Skull in a majistral cradle. Skull is inches from the ropes, and Heff starts running to save his master while Tony Herrera drops to count the pin. ONE! Heff rounds a corner and Lois the Unethical glances up to see The Crimson Skull's evil assistant about to do a dastardly bit of cheating. TWO! Heff can almost reach The Skull, but Lois is right behind him, her unfinished knitting raised high above her head. THREE! Heff jumps while Lois brings a sweater over his head, trapping his arms to his sides. Heff lands feebly on the apron, unable to do anything. The Crimson Skull, meanwhile, has kicked out. But was it in time? DING! DING! DING! Apparently not, as referee Tony Herrera is calling for the bell. "He got it! Jimmy the Doom got the win with an amazing Majestic Cradle!" Pete screams. "No! The Crimson Skull's foot was on the ropes! Well, his cape at least," King feebly offers. "Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this match by pinfall, JIMYYY THE DOOOOM!" "Yakety Sax" starts up while an angry Crimson Skull reluctantly shakes hands with Jimmy the Doom before turning to free Heff from his orange prison. Jimmy grabs his hat before joining Lois on the ramp and heading to the back while Lockdown fades to a commercial for The MANSONOSITY Home Game: "Using a laser, magnifying glass, and a microwave oven, you too can melt faces, just like Manson."

“It’s main event time here on Storm, and it features two of the most intense competitors we have on our active roster!” proclaims an excited Longdogger Pete. “Todd Cortez and JJ Johnson have seen better days, as they’ve both suffered recent setbacks. Now tonight they’ll take part in an enviroment they’re both very familiar with…one with one rule…there are no rules!” “So cliché.” “Eat me.” The bell sounds, and the Dapper Don of Ring Announcing climbs into the ring, ready to do what it is that he does. FUNYON Ladies and gentlemen, this next contest is scheduled for one fall, and is your main event of the evening! As soon as those words leave Funyon’s lips, the sound of Mos Def’s “Oh No” gets the crowd going, as it means the entry of one of the SWF’s most popular starts is just moments away. Sure enough, Todd Cortez steps through the curtain, clad in his trademark shades and bulletproof vest. The Pennsylvania crowd welcomes Cortez with open arms, and the Urban Legend looks extremely motivated as he heads to the ring. “Listen to this reception for Cortez as he...WAIT JUST A SECOND!" *CRASH* The sound of glass shattering is picked up by the cameras, and Cortez drops to the ground, revealing JJ Johnson clutching the remains of a glass lighttube in his hands! He continues his assault, rolling Cortez onto his back, then takes the jagged remains of the tube and digs it into the forehead of Cortez, cutting him open before the match even gets underway! "We expected a war tonight due to all the ingredients being there, what with Johnson out for revenge from his previous loss to Cortez, as well as his alignment with Landon Maddix, but I don't think anyone here, including Todd Cortez, was prepared for this!" Cortez screams in pain as the glass shard is slid across his forehead, opening up a gaping wound that poors blood from the get go. Johnson then pins Cortez down in the aisle and mounts his shoulders, clubbing at the wound with closed fists, staining the tape that is wrapped around his fingers. Cortez covers up quickly to deflect Johnson's hard strikes, and is then brought to his feet by JJ, who takes him to his feet and leads him to the ring, rolling him into it. "Johnson pounced on Cortez as soon as the Urban Legend stepped through the curtain, brutally assaulting him with that lighttube and not giving him any space for a comeback. Cortez hasn't even been able to remove his bulletproof vest!" "Knowing Johnson's mindset tonight, that might be for the best!" Referee Nick Soapdish, who has watched the carnage of the early moments of this contest from the ring, calls for the bell. Johnson hovers over a groggy Cortez, and as the Urban Legend rests on all fours, JJ blasts him across each side of his face, switching off between left and right arm strikes as he beats on Cortez with some sick crossface shots that splatter the blood of the popular superstar on the arms of his rival! Cortez falls to the canvas, but is pulled to his feet, as Johnson hooks the collar of the vest, then raises Cortez in the air with a back suplex attempt...but Cortez manages to escape, floating his body all the way over and landing on his feet. Reacting quickly, he hooks Johnson and tries the same manuever, but JJ shifts his weight and forces Cortez to fall to the canvas with himself on top of him, and he hooks a leg for the pin already! ONE! NO! "Cortez is trying to take the fight back to Johnson after being worked over for the last several moments, but Johnson has remained one step ahead of him thus far." Cortez kicked out easily, but Johnson is up on his feet before Cortez and drives his knees into TOdd's head as he recovers. Cortez staggers back, but he's grabbed by the wrist and sent across the ring, as Johnson looks to snatch him on the rebound. He turns to the side and hooks Cortez's waist as if for a side slam, but again Todd uses the momentum from the run to spin his body up and over the shoulder of JOhnson, and in one swift motion he floats over and spikes JJ with an inverted DDT! The back of JJ's head bounces off the canvas and he rolls away clutching his head, rolling all the way out to the floor! "Cortez again manages to one-up Johnson just when JJ thought he had the advantage, and now JJ is taking the high road to break any momentum Cortez can gain!" Johnson kneels at ringside, holding his head, while a bloody Cortez finally removes his bulletproof vest, which he takes and hurls down on Johnson! The vest bounces off JJ's back and he reels from it, selling the blow with a grimace and cringe, while Cortez quickly fires himself into the ropes and picks up speed before launching himself through the middle and top rope with a tope that causes a collision between he and JJ Johnson on the outside! "YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA H!" "High risk move that paid off in dividends for Cortez!" After a few moments of rest on the floor, Cortez comes to his feet and tears off his wifebeater, using it to soak up the blood on his forehead and stop it from getting into his eyes. He then takes the plasma soaked article of clothing and clutches it in his hand, bringing Johnson up to his feet...and then smears the blood-soaked shirt in his face! "Oh man, that's just...ugh. That's horrible!" Johnson pulls away and stumbles around ringside, doing a pratfall before getting up and storming away, spitting and wiping his face. This keeps JJ preoccupied long enough for Cortez to motion to one of the ringside fans to hand him a steel chair, and he takes it and jogs across ringside, catching up with JJ and slamming the chair across his back! Johnson drops to all fours, and Cortez hovers over him, moving towards the front of his opponent, so that when JJ stands up and lifts his head, Cortez charges forward and cocks the chair back, bringing it forward across the forehead of Johnson and knocking him off his feet! "I don't know what hurt worst...catching the chair across the head, or dropping to the concrete as hard as he just did!" The crowd gives Cortez the thumbs up for the chairshot, and the Urban Legend presses on, dragging Johnson, who now has streams of blood running down his face, up to his feet. Todd quickly hoists him up and stuns him with an inverted atomic drop, then swings around and lifts Johnson off his feet again, carrying him to the guardrail and dropping him hard across it, crotch first! "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!" Johnson reels, but Cortez isn't done, as he raises his arm and holds one finger up to signal for "one more". He pulls Johnson off the guardrail and holds him back suplex style, then runs forward and drives Johnson crotch first into the ringpost before letting him go and watching him fall to the ground! "Apparently we here at the SWF believe in spaying and neutering our superstars." Johnson rolls around ringside in agony, and Cortez motions for Soapdish before dropping to the floor and covering JJ. ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! "Looks like the Crotchshot Trifecta won't be enough to secure a win here tonight!" Cortez brings Johnson up after the failed pinfall attempt and rams his head into the apron to keep him dazed. Johnson staggers away, and when Cortez comes up from behind and grabs him, JJ fires his leg back and catches Cortez low, bringing the Urban Legend down! "Watch out Cortez, instant karma's gonna getcha!" chuckles Suicide King. Cortez grunts in pain, while Johnson manages to get himself together and focus on his opponent. He takes Todd's right arm and applies a standing armbar, but while holding the arm fires off a pair of roundhouse kicks to the chest of Cortez, then forces Todd face down to the concrete. Still clutching the arm, Johnson then steps on Cortez's neck, pinning his head down on the floor as he tries to force a submission! "We know of Johnson's background in mixed martial arts, specifically UFC fighting, and right here and now he's utilizing that submission training to try and put Cortez out!" "One guy is a trained fighter, the other a notorious street fighter. Johnson has taken a lot of punishment in his life and survived, while Todd has been known to find new and exciting ways to hurt people. This is going to be a case of who can hurt who the most first and capitalize." "Let's not forget that Johnson is a stablemate of Landon Maddix, who I'm positive is still reeling from the Genesis loss that saw Todd Cortez put an end to their feud. It's not out of the question for Johnson to be acting as a hitman for Maddix and put Cortez out of the SWF here tonight!" Johnson yanks on the arm to pull Cortez up, then delivers a quick knee to the bread basket before whipping Cortez towards the guardrail. At the last second, Cortez drops to the floor and slides UNDER the railing and into the crowd, then gets up and leaps onto the railing, springboarding towards Johnson...who leaps off the floor himself, and catches the airborne Cortez with a dropkick to the ribs! "Amazing move by Todd Cortez, but the payoff was short-lived, as JJ Johnson saw him coming and struck him down with a beautiful dropkick!" exclaims Longdogger Pete. Cortez lays wounded at ringside, while Johnson gets up and dusts himself off after delivering the dropkick. Once again, he forces Todd to get to his feet, then drops his shoulder and rams Cortez back first into the ring apron before throwing him up on the apron and pushing him under the bottom rope and into the ring. Cortez rolls inside the squared circle, and JJ hops up on the apron, then propels himself into the air, springboarding off the top rope and delivering a sternum crushing elbowdrop that sends a jolt of pain through the body of the thuggish Cortez! With his opponent in no position to fight back at the moment, Johnson slithers out of the ring and to the floor. He throws the ring apron up and scavenges under the ring for a moment before revealing what it was he was looking for...his trademark kendo stick! "Johnson came out with a lighttube at first tonight, but has now found his preferred instrument of destruction!" shouts out Pete in a frantic state. JJ rolls into the ring, and as Cortez comes back to a vertical base, he's met with a blistering kendo stick shot across the forehead, striking him across his already bloody temple! Todd drops to the mat, and JJ quickly rolls him onto his stomach and seats himself on Todd's lower back, then takes the stick and brings it across Todd's throat and pulls back, using it to choke his foe out! "Almost like a camel clutch here, but instead of wrenching back on the head and neck, JJ Johnson is blocking off the air supply, looking for the choke!" "This is a guy who can choke you out with his bare hands, but instead he's adding some incentive to it. Cortez has absorbed some pretty vicious shots in the last several minutes, and something like this could seal the deal for Johnson!" Soapdish looks on, and every few moments checks on Cortez. Being a hardcore contest, he can't stop the use of the kendo stick (or anything else, for that matter), but he watches on, and asks occasionally if Cortez can continue. Groggily, Cortez shakes his head "no", and after the fourth time that Soapdish asks him if he's sure, Johnson transitions from the rear choke to a scissors choke, as he rolls over and uses the choke to pull Cortez on top, then scissors his legs around the Urban Legend to prevent escape! "So many factors are motivating Johnson tonight. Payback for the parking lot brawl, the fact that he can make good with Maddix, and that putting a man like Todd Cortez out of action would be a huge coup for him as he makes a name for himself in the SWF!" Johnson pulls back on the kendo stick, but Cortez grips it with his own two hands and pushes upwards, trying to unblock his air passage. Johnson tries to fight the struggle, but realizes that it's no use resiting Cortez's comeback. With the crowd rallying behind him, Cortez pushes the stick away from his throat, but Johnson lets go of it by his own will, and quickly locks on a sleeperhold! "Brilliant segueway by Johnson, going from the choke into a sleeper to keep Cortez grounded!" The crowd boos loudly, thinking that their hero was on his way to comeback city. Johnson keeps Cortez trapped, but Todd squirms, rolling to his side to try and escape the body scissors. Todd wriggles his body, and eventually manuevers himself free of the trap, but Johnson will not release the sleeperhold so easily. Todd pushes up to his feet, and quickly turns himself to the side, shooting Johnson off of him and into the ropes to break the sleeperhold. He leaps up as Johnson rebounds towards him, and lands on his shoulders, pulling him over with a hura...NO! Rana attempt is blocked with a vicous powerbomb! All the air Cortez just sucked back into his system is promptly driven from his body, and it looks to happen again, as Johnson keeps hold of the Urban Legend, lifting him up before dropping him a second time with a powerbomb! Johnson hesitates for a moment, then does another dead lift of Cortez, pulling him up into the air...but the weary Cortez uses an eye rake to stun his foe! Johnson reels and loses his grip, dropping Cortez to the canvas! Todd manages to land on his feet, then quickly springs upward, drilling Johnson with a clothesline that carries them both over the top rope and down back out to the floor! "Desperation counter to Johnson's assault has put both men back out on the concrete where this whole thing started!" Soapdish slides out of the ring and looks on as the weary Johnson and the even more battle worn Cortez remain sprawled out on the floor. Cortez lays face down, while Johnson sits up and holds his head before rolling to his feet. Wearily, he pries Cortez from his spot on the floor, then simply hurls him to the ringpost. Cortez collides hard, cracking his forehead on the steel beam, then simply slouches back to the floor. Johnson comes over and catches his fall, holding him by the back of the neck, then leads him around ringside and up the aisleway before ultimately disappearing behind the curtain! "JJ Johnson is leading Cortez through the arena, and we need a camera backstage! Can we...OH MY LORD!" Pete's request for a camera backstage was granted, just in time for the viewing audience to see JJ Johnson throw Cortez across the catering table! SWF wrestlers and staff back away and look on as Johnson stalks his opponent, topping the table over in order to get to him. JJ reaches down for his opponent, but suddenly pulls away and cries out in agony as he stumbles away from his opponent! "What the...why is Johnson moving away?" Johnson seems to be tending to his eyes, and is swinging his arms blindly, but Cortez is nowhere even near him. The Urban Legend realizes he has bought himself some time and slowly rises to his feet, the blood pouring from his forehead. Cortez looks down and picks up a small, unknown item, then moves towards Johnson. Making sure to keep his distance so that Johnson doesn't catch him in his blind rage, Todd waits for the right moment to strike, then spins Johnson around and smashes something across his forehead...something that causes Johnson to scream VERY LOUDLY. " YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HH!" No one is certain what Cortez did. Stab him with a fork? Throw salad dressing in his eyes? Force him to eat a radish? It’s not until the cameras catch a trail of white powder on the floor near Johnson (and no, we don’t mean he was doing his best Scarface impression before the match). "What the, what did...WAIT! KING, LOOK! IT WAS A SALT SHAKER!" "Yeee-ow! Cortez took the cliche of pouring salt in an open wound and made it a reality! Not only did he blind JJ Johnson, but he's got him at his mercy, all thanks to something I use to flavor my steaks!" Johnson rests on one knee holding his head in his hands, hoping the stinging pain will go away, but with his defenses down Cortez takes the opportunity to grab a coffee pot and shatter it across his skull! JJ collapses, and Todd rolls him onto his back and hooks a leg. ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! “Johnson escapes in the nick of time by getting a shoulder up!” Cortez, now the one on the offensive, brings his still-blind opponent up and leads him around the backstage area before throwing him up against a wall! Blood stains the white wall as Johnson slams face first into it, and Cortez rips a nearby fire extinguisher off the wall and swings it right at JJ’s head, but Johnson ducks in the nick of time! The extinguisher makes a huge dent in the wall, and Johnson quickly takes Cortez to the floor with a double leg takedown, and looks to clobber him with forearm shots…but Todd puts the extinguisher in the path of the blow, and Johnson slams his left arm hard into it! “Great move by Todd, using the extinguisher as a shield to stop JJ from going back on the offensive!” Johnson gets up and backs away, clutching his left arm in his right hand. This gives Todd the room he needs to make it back to his feet, and JJ realizes this, but when Johnson approaches he’s met with a blast of cool fog from the extinguisher that hampers his vision! Johnson coughs and tries to wave the fog away, but Cortez paces right through it and takes his foe by the hair, tossing him into a nearby door! Johnson reels and winds up pushing the door open and staggering through it, and Cortez follows. The camera man is the last one through the door, and we now see that this battle has spilled out into the Parking Lot! “The last time these two were in a parking lot together, it wasn’t good for Johnson, as he got his head put through car windows and then had it spiked on the roof of a car with the Riot Act Plus!” Johnson staggers through the rows of cars, with Cortez right behind him. JJ turns around, and Cortez, still wielding the extinguisher, brings it around and tries to nail JJ with it…but Johnson ducks, and Cortez winds up smashing the window of a car with it! JJ acts instantly, pushing Cortez hard into the body of the car, then takes him and slams his head into the hood of it! “Here they go with the cars again!” Cortez falls back, nearly losing his balance, while Johnson approaches and fires off some quick jabs, then moves in close and takes Todd by the head, tying him up in a front facelock. Johnson tries to force Todd down to the ground, but Cortez pushes his feet off the ground and moves Johnson back. JJ fights back, using knee strikes to pummel Cortez, then picks him up and drops him on the hood of another car with a vertical suplex! “Pete, you realize no good is going to come of this, right?” “I know, King. I know. But we still have to call it.” With Cortez draped over the hood of the car, Johnson climbs up as well, and pulls Cortez up over the windshield and onto the roof. He hooks Todd’s arms in a butterfly lock, but before he can capitalize on having the arms trapped, Cortez manages to bring his arms out of the lock, and picks Johnson up across his shoulders…but JJ slides out! He quickly spins Cortez around and swings his arm out for a short clothesline, but Todd ducks and uses a go behind while simultaneously reaching up and hooking the outstretched arm, finishing JJ off with a release half nelson suplex that sees JJ land with a sick head drop on the trunk of the car before falling to the ground! “Talk about cringe-inducing! JJ Johnson just got spiked on his head for the second time in as many months by Todd Cortez in a parking lot!” Cortez, who lost enough blood in the opening minutes to make a weaker man pass out, drops to all fours on the roof of the car. Johnson lay motionless on the ground, and that’s good enough for Cortez, as he’s able to take a moment to relax himself and catch a much needed breather. Cortez makes his way off the car and to the pavement, coming around the back of the car and looking down at his foe, face buried in the cement. Cortez leans over and paintbrushes the back of Johnson’s head and gets no response or show of defense from the former UFC fighter, so he brings him to his feet. The blood stained face of Johnson is not a pretty sight, and Cortez stares him down, despite the fact that Johnson’s eyes are 95% closed. Holding him by the hair, Cortez takes Johnson and hurls him in the direction of the car next to them, and puts Johnson’s head through the back window! “Déjà vu!” Johnson is lifeless, but Cortez quickly pries his body from out of the car, then takes him by the head and sends it careening through the front driver’s window, sending glass everywhere! “He had him beat! What’s the point!” “I think the point is very clear, King. Todd Cortez is free of the chains of Landon Maddix, he’s free of the chains of Revolution Zero…there is nothing that can hold this man back from claiming the glory he deserves, and he’s sending a message to the SWF!” “What message would that be? Don’t park in front of my house?” “I was thinking more along the lines of “mercy is for the weak” or “this could be you”.” Cortez pulls the lifeless body of Johnson out of the car for a second time, then throws it up onto the hood, where it remains for a few moments while Todd regains his composure. Once he catches his breath, Cortez hops up on the car as well, and pulls Johnson up onto the roof, and it looks like we’re going to relive a very familiar scene. ”We know what happened last time, and it looks like it’s time for a sequel!” “Eh, sequels usually aren’t as good as the first one.” “Godfather 2.” “Point taken.” “Grease 2.” “…Pete?” “Sorry.” Cortez stands over Johnson, who is motionless. He reaches down and pulls him up, but in a shock, he doesn’t pull him into a standing headscissors…the obvious setup for the Riot Act Plus. Instead, he pulls Johnson to a vertical base, holding him steady, and then moves behind him, wrapping his arm up and around his head while wrenching back on the left arm. Cortez then drops to the roof himself with Johnson atop him, and he wraps his legs around him, trapping him in a body scissors…for the first time in what seems like years, Todd Cortez is putting him out with the Street Dreams! “The Street Dreams! Todd’s trademark move upon his entry to the SWF!” “He’s kicking it old school!” “…King?” “Wait, so you can mention Grease 2 on a wrestling broadcast, and I can’t spout one cheesy line?” “Fair enough.” Soapdish, who has kept his eye on the carnage, crawls up onto the trunk of the car and looks into the eyes of Johnson…well, he would be if they were actually open. Cortez wrenches back on the dragon sleeper, while Soapdish surveys the damage it’s doing. He grabs the wrist of Johnson and lifts his arm, but as soon as the referee releases, it drops back down. Soapdish quickly motions to the cameraman that it’s over, and a muffled roar can be heard coming from the inside of the arena, as the Smarktron has passed the word on that Todd Cortez just choked JJ Johnson out! “It’s official! Todd Cortez has taken this one tonight, here on Storm!” Soapdish quickly tells Cortez that it’s all over, although the Urban Legend takes an extra moment or two to keep the hold applied before releasing. As he stands up, Soapdish gives him a hand, then raises his arm up to solidify the victory. Cortez, bloody and battered, immediately hops off the car and heads towards the arena, blowing right through the backstage area, as the sound of his music is heard, signifying his victory inside the arena. ”Cortez just scored a major victory, and now what’s he…it looks like he’s coming back out here!” Sure enough, the curtain swings open, and the fans explode when Cortez steps into the arena portion of the Hammerstein once again. “Cortez has made his way back out to the ring, and…well, looks like we’re about to find out why!” To the shock of anyone who follows the SWF, the normally quiet Cortez, who prefers to let his actions speak for him, has requested the microphone from Funyon. The popular announcer gladly obliges, and Cortez rolls into the ring, looking battle worn after the encounter. “I know I don’t do much talking” starts Cortez “but I’ve got something to say. I’ve accomplished a lot in a short time here. Right off the bat when I came into this company to be Mike Van Siclen’s tag team partner, we became champions. Hollywood Boulevard became THE team in the SWF. We went through everyone and anyone, and win or lose we always held our heads high, and you people saw us through thick and thin. When that all came to an end thanks to Revolution Zero and Mike’s retirement, I didn’t let it get to me. I never backed down, no matter what they, or anyone else threw at me, and because of that, I represented this company as its United States champion as well as its Hardcore Champion. Then, just last month, I ended something that went deeper than competition and titles. I ended a war, a personal vendetta, against Landon Maddix. A man who tried to damage me personally and professionally, and victimize the people I love. If there is one thing you don’t do, you do not make my family or my friends a part of your beef with me, not without consequence at least.” The crowd applauds, as Todd continues. “So now, here we are. Todd Cortez, the Urban Legend, doing what he does best, and that’s putting someone down. Johnson, nothing personal, but any friend of Maddix isn’t a friend of mine. You found out what Todd Cortez was all about last month, and this time, well Mr. UFC, I choked your ass out. Still, you’re not the reason I’ve got the mic in my hand either. I’m here to issue a warning, to anyone and everyone, friend and foe. I have done all I’ve said I would do. I’ve tasted some, but not all the glory in this company. There have been times that I’ve been this close (Cortez makes the finger motion)…well now, I think it’s time I got a little closer.” The crowd pops, feeling what Cortez is hinting at. “I’m a fighting spirit. I thrive on competition. I get an adrenaline rush when I spike heads off this canvas. Now it’s time that I put Revolution Zero, Landon Maddix, and the personal wars behind me. Now it’s time to stand my ground and focus, and maybe, just maybe, represent this company in a way that I’ve dreamed about since the first time I walked through that curtain.” After speaking those ominous words, Cortez tosses the mic down, and exits the ring to the sound of his theme, looking forward to a hot shower and a good night’s rest. “Well, that was unexpected, but I don’t think there is one person who can honestly disagree that Todd Cortez doesn’t deserve a shot at championship gold once again!” “He’s spent more time defending the honor of his girl and himself these last few months, and now he’s looking to steer back onto the career path and add to his resume. That’s good business, but by pulling a grandstand challenge like that, he’s just painted a target on his back!” “If anyone can survive it, it’s that man. We’ll see how this situation develops soon enough, but for now, we’re outta time! For the one and only Suicide King, this is the LDP saying we’ll see you next time, and thank you for watching the SWF!” ----------------------------- SWF Storm, 10-07-05 A Riot Act Production ‘Raising workrate by typing faster’ -----------------------------

The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents... SWF STORM! OCTOBER 7th, FROM THE STABLER ARENA IN BETHLEHEM, PENNSYLVANIA ! (5PM PST, 8PM EST; check local listings) -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- THE MAIN EVENT Todd Cortez vs. JJ Johnson[/b] -> On Smarkdown, both JJ and Todd suffered hard losses - JJ once again let Zyon slip through his fingers, and Todd tasted bitter defeat at the hands of Marcus Ward. PENT UP RAGE AND AGGRESSION will be blown off tonight, as each man vies for a chance to turn their luck around. Both of these men are accomplished Hardcore champions, so it's only fitting that we pit them against each other in the Main Event of the Hardcorest... ... Hardcoriest... Most Hardcorierest show on TV! Rules: Hardcore! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- KOJI Kitano vs. "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins -> Round two: KOJI vs. Spike! (See below) Rules: Hardcore! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- TORU Takahara vs. Zyon -> TKO made a wee bit of a statement on Smarkdown, taking the Tag Team Title belts from their new owners and running off with them! On Lockdown, TORU and KOJI will get a chance to make a more meaningful statement regarding their "ownership" of the titles when they take on the team of Zyon and Spike Jenkins - tonight, however, we're going with the obligatory singles matches before a tag match. Round one: TORU vs. Zyon! Rules: Hardcore! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Opening Bout - SWF HARDCORE CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH - MULTI-MAN MAAAADNESS! Bruce Blank © vs. Jimmy the Doom vs. "The Divine Wind" Akira Kaibatsu vs. The Crimson Skull -> Holy Joke That Hasn't Been Used Here Yet, Batman! Jimmy the Doom took down Bruce Blank in a one on one match on Smarkdown! I'd say that's earned him a little somethin'-somethin'. But having these two go at it again would not be enough, even with the Hardcore stipulation. So to spice things up, we've dropped the impressive newcomer Akira Kaibatsu into the mix. He couldn't quite get the job done against Magnifico, but really, who can? Besides, he made a damn fine showing of himself, and we're proud of 'em for it. We also decided to put The Crimson Skull in this match - perhaps if he shows off enough EEEEVIL in this Hardcore bout, perhaps it might attract the attention of a certain someone he's been after... Rules: HARDCORE~! First pinfall or submission wins (and remember, kids, falls count anywhere)! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“And welcome back to SWF Storm, ladies and gentlemen!” Ben Hardy enthusiastically greets the home audience from a anonymous backstage area. “With me is the SWF World Heavyweight Champion, El Luchadore Magnifico!” The camera zooms out, revealing Magnifico standing next to Hardy, the World Title over his shoulder and a cheerful grin on his face. “A pleasure as always, Ben.” ELM earnestly says. “Er, likewise.” Hardy respons, taken somewhat off guard. “Let’s get right to business; on Smarkdown, it was revealed that Spike Jenkins beat Tom Flesher at Genesis VI, and as such was awarded a shot at your World Heavyweight Title at Ashes 2 Ashes.” ELM visibly sobers as Ben continues. “What are your thoughts on Jenkins being the next challenger to your title?” Hardy questions. Magnifico sighs and thinks for a moment before answering. “I’ll be completely clear with you. Spike Jenkins sickens me.” ELM simply states. “Up until he had made his deal with Joseph Peters, I had no real problem with the guy. Of course, he suffered from the crippling weakness that is so prominent among the so-called ‘fan favorites’ of this Federation, but otherwise, I had no strong feelings towards Spike one way or another.” “But that all changed when he became Peters’ puppet.” Magnifico continues, his voice raising slightly. “Spike decided to take the easy way out. Instead of fighting his way to the top, he became Peters’ lapdog and did whatever he asked in pursuit of a title shot. He was a good little servant. He did what he was told.” “I can’t tell you how much that disgusts me.” Ben processes Magnifico’s answer before asking another question. “Does this have anything to do with the fact that it was Flesher who Jenkins beat to get his shot at the World Title?” ELM stares at Ben for a moment before answering. “Somewhat, yes.” Magnifico finally says. “Flesher was the greatest competitor I ever had the honor of facing. He took me to my limits every time we fought, and I believe some of the greatest matches of my career were with him.” “But this is about something larger than that.” ELM snaps, abruptly changing the topic. “This is about honor. About fighting on your own terms. About what happens when the cowardly and the weak challenge the strong and virtous.” “I will show Spike Jenkins what being the World Champion is all about.” Magnifico declares, the smile returning to his face. “He is a sniveling, shirking, son of a bitch, a man who doesn’t deserve to be within a hundred feet of this belt.” “He is nothing. I will make him realize that.” ELM meets eyes with Ben, smiles broadly, and walks off camera. Hardy watches him leave, raising his eyebrow as he does so...

“Fans, welcome back to Storm after that terrific opening match,” Longdogger Pete exclaims. However, we’re shifting the focus from multi-man mayhem to singles competition as we see TORU Takahara take on the much-loved Zyon, who as you may note is already in the ring!” “Both these men had interesting Smarkdowns,” King comments, taking a slurp of PepsiMax, “as TORU and his partner KOJI stole the tag title belts from Landon Maddix and Jay Hawke - which amused me greatly, at least as far as Landon is concerned - while Zyon got thrown backfirst into a ringpost before landing on his head. Dogger, if the outcome of this match would have ever been in doubt I don’t think it will be now!” TORU is making his way down the ramp with Chris Card beside him as the harsh riffs of ‘Teethgrinder’ by Therapy? blast out over the PA system. As the camera focuses in on the stolen Tag Title belt over Technical Perfection’s shoulder Card grins and winks, then points at the masking tape over the nameplate; masking tape with the word ‘TORU’ written on in thick black marker. As this image reaches the Smarktron the crowd boo on general principle, since they like Zyon much more than TORU. Zyon himself seems eager to get things started… *BANG!* “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” *DING-DING-DING!* “Zyon wasted no time and just opened up on TORU with that corkscrew plancha!” Longdogger Pete shouts in excitement as the man from Indiana sends Takahara crashing to the arena floor. “However,” he continues, “I think the Unique Youth may have hurt himself in the process…” Sure enough, Zyon is holding his back as he staggers back up to his feet. Meanwhile Chris Card’s face has set in an expression of fury at this unexpected assault and he takes a firm grip on the Tag Title belt before swinging at Zyon… …who ducks! Card stumbles forward and Zyon grabs a trailing strap, then hauls Technical Perfection back around and kicks him in the gut. The surprised British ex-pat involuntarily releases the title belt, and Zyon wastes no time in Returning To Sender! *WHAM!* “ZY-ON!” “ZY-ON!” “That’s unfair!” King shouts. “That’s an unprovoked attack on a manager!” “Two things,” Pete snorts, “firstly, it was provoked, and secondly… it’s Chris Card.” “…an excellent point, and well-made,” King admits grudgingly, remembering Card’s failure to hold Landon Maddix in the midcard and his role in helping Toxxic beat Scott Pretzler at Ground Zero. Meanwhile Zyon has found himself with a Tag Title belt in his hand, the same belt that he came close to winning on two occasions with his partner Spike Jenkins. In the knowledge that he has a match with Spike against TKO on Lockdown, and that the winner might well go on to face Jay Hawke and Landon Maddix, Zyon raises the belt about his head to incite a few more cheers from the crowd… “Milk it while you can…” King smirks. …and TORU, who has now got back to his feet behind the Unique Youth, grabs Zyon and hurls him bodily into the steel guardrail! *CRASH!* “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” The Bethlehem fans aren’t too fond of this development, but TORU simply shrugs off his trenchcoat and carefully removes his shades, then grabs Zyon and hauls the dazed Indianan to his feet. The Japanese Hammer then draws his right foot back and- *CRACK!* “Ooh, I think they felt that one in Tokyo,” King says happily as the brutal snap kick drives deep into Zyon’s ribs. The Unique Youth staggers away, turning his back on his opponent. This doesn’t prove to be such a great plan, unfortunately. *CRACK!* This kick lands on Zyon’s spine, causing the smaller man to cry out in pain as the injury he suffered at the hands of JJ Johnson on Smarkdown is aggravated. Zyon is driven down to his hands and knees, but TORU has no intention of letting up and strides forward again: *CRACK!* *CRACK!* “This doesn’t look good for Zyon at all,” Longdogger Pete says in some concern, “TORU is literally kicking him around the ring, and we all know how hard TORU can kick!” Sure enough, the vicious strikes from Takahara are propelling the pained Zyon around the outside of the ring and towards the announce desk. *CRACK!* Now the two wrestlers have reached a small group of fans in the front row, all wearing TKO shirts and bearing a sign reading ‘TKO SECTION’. They chant vociferously in favour of the Japanese Hammer, who stops for a moment and extends his hand. A large, beer-bellied individual reaches out to clasp it… but TORU steps back and flips him the bird! This only drives the group to greater efforts as they respond with their own middle fingers and chant even louder: “T!K!O!” “T!K!O!” Shaking his head in mild bewilderment, TORU turns back to Zyon who has now staggered back up to his feet and swings for the bigger man with a right hand, but TORU blocks it and then drives his knee into Zyon’s gut. The Unique Youth crumples back to the mats in front of the announce desk, whereupon TORU places one foot on his opponent’s throat and raises both fists in the air… then commences headbanging! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “LET’S GO ZY-ON!” “LET’S GO ZY-ON!” “Is there any need for that?” Pete asks in disgust as Zyon thrashes around, gasping for breath. “Yes,” King responds, “my personal amusement.” After several seconds Zyon finally manages to dislodge TORU’s foot from his neck, but the Japanese Hammer hasn’t finished with that line of inquiry and beckons a member of the camera crew over before grabbing one of the camera leads and wrapping it around Zyon’s windpipe! Takahara then places one foot in the small of Zyon’s back and hauls with all his might, to the point that referee Brian Warner slides out of the ring to ask him to desist. Of course, this being a Hardcore match, TORU has no need whatsoever to pay attention to the referee… and he doesn’t. “TORU Takahara is choking the life out of Zyon right here in front of us, and Brian Warner can’t do a thing to stop it!” Pete rages. “If I wasn’t retired-” “-you’d do nothing, except get the crap kicked out of you,” King interjects. “Now sit down and let the man work; it’s not like you’re Cyclone Comet or something.” Zyon’s face has gone an interesting shade of purple, and TORU seems to think that this is good enough; accordingly, the Japanese Hammer releases his stranglehold and allows Zyon’s body to slump to the protective matting, then covers him as Brian Warner drops to make the count… ONE! TWO!! …but Zyon shows there is still life in him, and he kicks out! TORU doesn’t waste any time in arguing with the referee and instead heads for the timekeeper’s table where he shoves David Blazenwing aside and grabs the steel chair the former SWF jobber had been sitting on. A couple of nearby fans start yelling abuse at the Japanese superstar and TORU proceeds to give them the finger in response, then turns around with the chair held in front of him- *KER-RACK!* -straight into a desperation Zyon dropkick! “YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “ZY-ON!” “ZY-ON!” TORU staggers backwards and drops ungraciously onto his backside as the Unique Youth, still struggling for breath, pulls himself back up to his feet. Zyon’s seeing black spots through oxygen deprivation but he still knows what he has to do if he’s to survive this match, and he fights the light-headedness and ache in his back to climb up onto the announce table. “Hey!” King yells, swatting at Zyon’s feet, “gerroff!” *CRUNCH!* “AARRGGH!” The Gambling Man abruptly yells, “my hand! He stood on my fucking hand!” “Brian, please; language!” Pete barks, appalled. “This is Storm, shithead,” King responds through gritted teeth, “go choke on your Miami Menace!” As the announcer engage in a vigorous debate about taste and decency Zyon takes sight on his dazed opponent; TORU is pulling himself back to his feet, his lip split open from where the chair was dropkicking into his face. The Unique Youth takes a deep breath and launches himself off the announce table, then snares TORU in a front facelock as he flies through the air and drives his opponent’s head into the arena floor with the Bring Me Down DDT! “ZY-ON!” *clap-clap-clap* “ZY-ON!” *clap-clap-clap* The landing on the hard arena floor has clearly hurt Zyon’s back, but the Unique Youth quickly struggles up into a sitting position, then rolls TORU over onto his back and covers him… ONE! TW- -but the Japanese Hammer kicks out just before the count of two! Zyon looks a little exasperated at TORU’s resistance to having his head mashed into the floor, but nonetheless gets back to his feet and picks up the chair that he recently dropkicked into Takahara’s face, then starts waving his arms to pump the crowd up some more! “LET’S GO ZY-ON!” *clap-clap-clap* “LET’S GO ZY-ON!” *clap-clap-clap* With the Philadelphia crowd firmly behind him, Zyon takes careful aim as TORU starts to push himself up to his feet, then strides forwards and- *CRACK!* -near enough takes his opponent’s head off with a chair shot! TORU slumps back and Zyon pauses for a moment to admire his handiwork, then drops the chair and starts hunting underneath the ring. “What the hell is he looking for under there?” King growls, still nursing his hand. “A weapon, possibly?” Pete surmises. “He’s got a weapon, there,” King bites back, jabbing an uninjured digit at the discarded steel chair. “Kids these days think they have to be so flashy, when all you really need is a chair and a few brains. Zyon has neither.” It is very true that Zyon doesn’t have a chair. “YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” What he does have is a twelve-foot ladder. “Penis extension,” King says immediately. “You’re a fine one to talk,” Pete replies, “I’ve heard about the size of the real ‘Ace of Clubs’.” “…from who?” “Amy Craven.” Zyon has the unwieldy but enormous ladder braced in both hands now, and with a grimace of effort he turns and focuses on TORU as the bigger man gets back to his feet again. The Unique Youth jabs it forward into TORU’s gut, then as the Japanese Hammer staggers back against the guard rail he hefts it into a more comfortable position and charges! *CRASH!* However, TORU moves at the last minute and Zyon simply rams straight into the guardrail! The impact knocks the weapon from his hands, and TORU takes this opportunity to leap into the air and connect with a gamengiri that floors the man from Indiana! With his opponent flattened TORU takes a few quick breaths of his own to put some air back into his lungs, then grabs Zyon in one hand and the ladder in the other before heading for the ring. Takahara quickly rolls the Unique Youth in under the bottom rope, then lifts the ladder with considerably more ease than his opponent could and slides it in after him before following both Zyon and ladder into the ring. “LET’S GO ZY-ON!” “LET’S GO ZY-ON!” Zyon has struggled onto all fours after the disorientating blow to the temple, but TORU grabs him by the scruff of the neck and drags him up to his feet before driving his knee deep into his opponent’s stomach, not just once but twice. With the Unique Youth doubled over and gasping for breath TORU heads for the ropes and rebounds at speed, this time sending his right knee into Zyon’s jaw with a sickening crack! “That’s it, it’s over,” King says with a pleased finality as Zyon drops to the mat. “You can’t go up against a man with TORU’s strength and quickness in a match with no rules and expect to win a brawl. Zyon’s only hope was his speed, and he won’t be using that very much on his back!” “Unlike you,” Pete comments, “I’ve heard that you’re very quick on your back. At least, you don’t take much time.” “Who-” “Amy Craven.” As Pete takes advantage of the late broadcast hour to taunt King about his sex life, TORU is heading for the top rope. Once there the big man from Japan sights on his opponent, then springs into the air to hit home with the devastating kneedrop known as the TORU Hammer! *WHAM!* 260lbs of Japanese wrestler concentrated behind one knee lands on Zyon’s breastbone, sending the cruiserweight into a spasm of coughing. TORU doesn’t give him a chance to catch his breath, and instead makes a cover and hooks the leg… ONE! TWO!! TH- -but Zyon kicks out, although not quite as quickly as the Pennsylvania fans would have liked! With his opponent still gasping for breath TORU drags him to the ladder, then opens it up and rolls Zyon inbetween the legs! “Oh my,” Pete says, “this does not look good!” With the Unique Youth temporarily too short of breath to do much more than wheeze, the agile TORU has plenty of time to vault up to the top rope and crouch on the buckle. Once he’s sure that Zyon isn’t going anywhere the big man leaps into the air, pumping his arms and legs as he goes… “AIR TORU!” King shouts in glee. *CRUNCH!!* …and TORU lands on top of the ladder and Zyon! “HO-LY SHIT!” “HO-LY SHIT!” “HE FROG-SPLASHED HIM!” Pete bellows above the din. “TORU Takahara just frog-splashed Zyon when he was trapped inside the ladder! Good God, what carnage!” TORU didn’t get off lightly from that particular piece of insanity; the big man is rolling around the canvas in pain from where he hit the metal. Zyon, however, got something of a double whammy and seems to barely be conscious. Several long seconds pass as TORU hauls himself across the ring, then pulls Zyon from between the ladder and covers him… ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRR- -but Zyon kicks out again! TORU looks up in disbelief but referee Brian Warner brandishes two fingers defiantly! Takahara snorts and gives the official one finger in return, then pushes himself up to his feet and picks up the ladder, ignoring Zyon for the moment. “Oh come on, he hasn’t finished yet?” Pete demands. “It’s a Hardcore match, Dogger,” King replies. “Everything is legal and, if it’s being done to Zyon, encouraged.” TORU takes the ladder and leans it in the corner of the ring, then goes back to the prone Zyon and grabs hold of his feet. Zyon seems to have worked out where he is again and knows he doesn’t want to have TORU holding onto him, but his struggles are to no avail as the big man hooks one of his opponent’s feet under each armpit, then suddenly falls backwards and slingshots the Unique Youth towards the ladder! Zyon flies through the air towards his metal reception committee… but instinct and an unnatural sense of balance kicks in, and he lands on one of the rungs! “YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” TORU is clearly puzzled why there hasn’t been a nice crashing sound, but before he can get up to look around and find out why Zyon backflips off the ladder to land on his opponent with the Half Moon! With the Unique Youth already in a covering position Brian Warner is quick to drop to the mat and make the count… ONE! TWO!! -but TORU kicks out well before the count of three! “LET’S GO ZY-ON!” “LET’S GO ZY-ON!” “King, it seems to me that Zyon is going to have to do a lot to hurt TORU,” Pete remarks, “especially since he hasn’t wrestled since Genesis VI and Zyon had that gruelling Triple Threat on Smarkdown!” “Well, he wouldn’t have had that match if he’d made the flight for Lockdown,” the Gambling Man points out, “Zyon could have been nicely rested for this encounter, but he couldn’t get himself organised. Of course, “King adds as an afterthought, “if he’d had that one-on-one match with Johnson then he’d have been torn into itty-bitty pieces…” TORU is already starting to get to his feet but Zyon is up well before, and the Unique Youth heads for the ropes to build up a head of steam before rebounding and leaping into the air with the ‘Snap’ front dropkick. Both feet catch TORU full in the chest and put the bigger man down, but as Zyon attempts to kip up his back seems to give out and he ends up sprawled on the mat before he can right himself! “Ha ha!” King laughs, “serves you right, showoff!” This time Zyon chooses to get up a more traditional way, but even as he does so he sees TORU getting back to his feet as well. The Unique Youth runs in and delivers a forearm smash to his opponent’s jaw… but although TORU takes a step back the big man is largely unfazed, and he replies with another devastating knee to the gut that takes the wind completely out of Zyon’s sails! This time Takahara makes sure to bend down and give the breathless Zyon a good view of two middle fingers, but then straightens up and grabs the smaller man around the waist before gutwrenching him up! TORU holds his opponent in midair for a moment, then abruptly drops to one knee and brings Zyon down with a backbreaker! “LET’S GO ZY-ON!” “LET’S GO ZY-ON!” The chanting of the crowd seems to be in vain as Zyon seems unable to do anything but writhe in pain on the canvas. TORU is clearly aiming to capitalise on his opponent’s injured back as he drags the Unique Youth upright again, then scoops him up under one arm before dropping to one knee again and punishing his opponent’s spine with a pendulum backbreaker. However, instead of following up this time TORU backs away from his prone opponent, hands clasped in a prayer-like position as he appears to be begging! “What is he doing?” Pete asks, completely nonplussed. “It’s obvious,” King replies, “he’s so frightened of Zyon that he’s begging him not to hurt him. Anyone could see that.” Indeed, the crowd seem to be catching on to TORU’s complete mockery of his opponent, as Zyon isn’t even able to rise off the canvas, let alone administer a beating. With boos starting to rise around him TORU gets back to his feet with a malicious grin, then grabs his opponent and hauls him up to a vertical base. This time the Japanese Hammer underhooks both his opponent’s arms and hoists him up before twisting Zyon in midair to bring him down backfirst over one knee with the Tigerbreaker! Zyon yells out in pain again and TORU drops to make the cover… ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! “YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “LET’S GO ZY-ON!” “LET’S GO ZY-ON!” The Bethlehem crowd are fully behind their diminutive hero, but the kickout was only by the narrowest of margins. TORU looks rather frustrated at his opponent’s refusal to lie down and die, and accordingly gets back to his feet and heads for the nearest ringpost. Once there the big man begins to climb, facing out towards the crowd. The nearby contingent of hardened TKO fans are chanting as hard as they can, but they get drowned out as TORU raises both middle fingers to salute the entire audience… “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” …then jumps off backwards with an Air TORU moonsault, sending 264lbs of manflesh towards the prone form of the Unique Youth. Unfortunately for TORU, Zyon gets his knees up. “OOOFFF!!” “YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!” “Zyon’s not dead yet!” Pete bellows at the top of his lungs as TORU rolls away holding his ribs. “He’s taken a hell of a beating, but there’s still fight left in this courageous young man!” “Ah, spare it,” King snaps, “the jackass can’t even get up!” Indeed, it seems that Zyon is struggling to rise and keep his momentum going. Nevertheless the Unique Youth is giving it his best shot, and as he rolls over onto all fours the sounds of the crowd seem to spur him on to greater efforts. Although his back is screaming at him, Zyon struggles up to one knee only to see a hunched but rather annoyed TORU advancing on him, nursing his ribs. The big man reaches out one hand- *CHING!* -and Zyon slams his forearm up into the Japanese Hammer’s happy-happy-joy-joy area! TORU’s eyes cross and the man from Saitama Prefecture starts to crumple to his knees; before he can fall to the mat however, Zyon grabs the ladder from the corner and slams it into TORU’s chest. The big man staggers back into the corner, and with a Herculean effort Zyon ignores the pain in his back, takes a firm grip on his weapon and charges it into TORU’s chest once… *THUD!* …twice… *THUD!* …three times! *THUD!* “LET’S GO ZY-ON!” “LET’S GO ZY-ON!” With TORU gasping for breath Zyon manoeuvres the ladder until he can fit it right over TORU’s head, then as it rests on the top buckle where the big man is slumped Zyon places the other end on the ground to form a sort of ramp before walking with some care straight up the ladder until his toes are nearly touching his opponent’s chin. Zyon then raises one foot… and stamps on TORU’s head with the crowd chanting along! “ONE!” “TWO!” “THREE!” “FOUR!” “FIVE!” “SIX!” “SEVE-” -but before Zyon can get any further TORU slams his hands up into the ladder, jolting it. The Unique Youth tries to retain his balance but TORU extracts his head and tilts the ladder, sending Zyon flying over the top rope to the floor! The Japanese Hammer turns away, ladder held crossways across his chest and a big smile on his face… but he didn’t notice that Zyon landed on his feet on the arena floor! “What agility!” Pete exclaims, “Zyon is like a cat!” “Small, hairy and makes an annoying screech when you step on him?” King suggests. “Yes Dogger, I think we can both agree on that one.” Although his back is definitely not happy, Zyon is able to pull himself onto the ring apron and then, as TORU mocks the fans on the other side of the ring, to the top buckle. The big man turns back around and Zyon leaps off the top… *WHAM!* …dropkicking the ladder that TORU still has held across his chest! The Japanese Hammer goes down with the steel having been driven into his ribs, but Zyon lands on his back and winces in pain! “Zyon refuses to die, and he’s hitting TORU with everything he has now,” Pete says, “but can he really win a war of attrition? It seems his moves are hurting him almost as much as they do TORU!” Regardless of that, Zyon crawls over to his opponent and drapes one arm across TORU’s chest… ONE! TWO!! TH- -but the big man kicks out despite his stinging ribs, and Zyon must continue working for his win. The Unique Youth staggers back to his feet and notices in dismay that TORU isn’t staying down either; the Japanese Hammer is already on all fours and looks to be getting his legs under him in preparation to stand. Zyon seems to figure that he’ll make something from this, and as TORU rises he boots the bigger man in the gut, then places him in a standing headscissors… “Hah!” King snorts, “that’ll never work!” Indeed, if Zyon is going for the Final Hour piledriver, it isn’t working. Strain as the young man might he is completely unable to shift TORU, and the effort only makes his back hurt more. Now aware that he should have tried something else Zyon seems to be thinking quickly, but not quickly enough as TORU abruptly straightens up and back-bodydrops Zyon over his head… *whump* …but Zyon lands on his feet again! TORU turns around to see what has happened to his opponent, and Zyon leaps into the air before lashing backwards with his right leg to connect with TORU’s jaw with what a certain announcer would call as a Pele kick! *CRACK!* “YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” TORU goes down like a clubbed manatee, but Zyon seems to have got his second wind now and even though it’s clear the landing jarred his spine again he is back up onto his feet and heading for the top rope! Once there the Unique Youth raises both arms above his head for a little extra ‘whip’, then somersaults off with the ‘Dawn’ 450 splash that connects right onto TORU’s ribs! *BANG!!* ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! “Dammit, I thought he had him there!” Pete cries in dismay as TORU just squeezes one shoulder off the canvas. “Nevertheless, Zyon has really turned this match around, and now it is the Unique Youth who is firmly in control!” Zyon can’t seem to believe that he didn’t get the win with that move, but the young man from Indiana just shrugs and gets back to his feet, then begins the task of hauling TORU up after him. It takes some considerable effort but Zyon has the bit between his teeth now and will not be denied. Finally the Japanese Hammer comes upright and Zyon grabs his wrist to try and Irish whip him into the ropes. TORU isn’t completely out of it yet though, and has enough presence of mind to use his superior bulk and reverse the momentum, sending Zyon in instead. The big man waits for his opponent to rebound, but Zyon surprises him by leaping up and snaring him with a headscissors… …that turns into a round-the-body… [“OK, who’s doing what to who here?” Suicide King asks in confusion.] …and finally ends with an armdrag that sends the disorientated TORU onto his back in the corner of the ring! “LET’S GO ZY-ON!” “LET’S GO ZY-ON!” The Unique Youth soaks up the chants of the fans as he waits for TORU to rise, then charges into the corner and leaps into the air again to wrap both legs around Takahara’s head and snap backwards with a hurricanrana! TORU bumps his head on the way down, but Zyon isn’t satisfied and places one boot on the big man’s throat! “YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “THAT’S NOT FAIR!” King roars at the top of his lungs. “Payback is a bitch, Applewhite!” Longdogger Pete snorts, “now sit down!” After a few seconds of good wholesome babyface choking, Zyon has had enough and leaves his opponent be. However, the Unique Youth is still on the offensive and he grabs the ladder from where TORU dropped it, then sets it up in the middle of the ring. With TORU still on the mat Zyon begins to climb, heading for the summit some twelve feet above him… “Fans, Zyon’s going up and this could get messy!” Pete exclaims, “this young man has very little sense of personal safety!” “Or personal hygiene!” King shoots back… but he sounds worried. And well he should be, because Zyon has stopped just below the top of the ladder. The Unique Youth places both hands on the top rung, takes a deep breath… and vaults clean over the top rung, plummeting down twelve feet or so to the canvas and mashing TORU’s face with the Fallen Angel legdrop! *WHAM!!* “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “HO-LY SHIT!” “HO-LY SHIT!” “CHRIST ON A CRACKER,” Longdogger Pete bellows, “ZYON IS INSANE!” The Bethlehem crowd think so too, and are making no secret of the fact. Meanwhile, Zyon himself is rolling around in agony on the canvas as his tailbone protests heartily at its mistreatment. “Pete, I hope you realise that he’s just broken his spine!” King snaps. “Someone should have stopped this kid from competing long ago for his own safety, and to preserve some sense of quality in our programming!” Zyon may be in severe pain, but TORU isn’t moving. Zyon seems to have realised this and, with gritted teeth, the Unique Youth hauls himself over the mat to drape one arm over his opponent’s chest to make the cover… ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE… …NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! “So close!” Pete calls in dismay as TORU just, just kicks out while chants of ‘That Was Three!’ echo around the Stabler Center. “You gotta believe that on any other day that move would have got the pinfall if only Zyon hadn’t hurt his back so badly on the landing, and don’t forget that while TORU hasn’t helped matters, JJ Johnson was the man who gave Zyon an Exploder Suplex into the ringpost on Smarkdown! Zyon collapses back onto the canvas for a moment, unable to believe that he didn’t get the win. However, whatever else he may be, Zyon is a realist. He’s not going to hang around feeling sorry for himself while there’s a match to be won. “LET’S GO ZY-ON!” “LET’S GO ZY-ON!” “Where is he getting it from?” Pete asks in amazement as the Unique Youth struggles up to his feet, grabs TORU’s wrist and starts pulling. The effort merely causes Zyon to wince and hold his back, but a moment later the young man from Indiana is at it again, and this time manages to start dragging the weight of the Japanese Hammer across the canvas towards the ringropes. “Must be some form of illegal substance,” King surmises. “I demand a spotcheck!” Zyon has now managed to haul TORU to the edge of the ring, where he slides under the ropes and continues to pull the big man out. Some vague instinct causes TORU to try and keep his feet once they hit the floor and Zyon literally helps his groggy opponent to stand, then walks him over towards the announce desk. “…why is he coming this way?” King says, suddenly nervous. “Nothing good ever happens when they come over here!” With a wearied flick of his head, Zyon indicates that Longdogger Pete and Suicide King should vacate the area, then rests TORU on the edge of the table and pushes. The Japanese Hammer slumps onto the desk, and Zyon backs off before turning and heading for the ring. The Unique Youth climbs up onto the ring apron, then starts climbing the turnbuckles… “Oh no, this is not good!” King protests, waving his hands. “You get down from there this minute!” “Or you’ll do what?” Pete fires back, “stop his allowance?” “Don’t tempt me!” Zyon has now reached the top buckle and stands tall for a moment, facing out towards the crowd. The Unique Youth has thrown more or less everything at his opponent without ever quite getting the result he wanted. Now he has just one trick left in the bag. And so, with the flashbulbs of hundreds of cameras going off around him on all sides, Zyon leaps off the top buckle into the air, jacknifing as he does so and then diving down towards the announce desk where TORU still lies… “FIIIIIIIII-NAAAAAAAAALLLLLLL FLAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHH!!” *KEEERRRRRR-AAAAAASSSSSSHHHHHHHH!!!* “HO-LY SHIT!” “HO-LY SHIT!” “HO-LY SHIT!” As the fans chant and pound for all they’re worth, the nearest camera operator hurries forward to get a close-up of the carnage. There, lying in the wreckage of what was once an announce table, is the non-moving and broken body of a SWF competitor. Just the one. *SWF REPLAY!* This camera shot shows Zyon leaping off the top buckle, but it also shows that at the last moment, TORU rolled to one side and dropped ungracefully off the announce table. Meaning that when Zyon hit, he hit backfirst straight into the wood and plastic of the desk without taking his intended target with him. *SWF REPLAY!* “HE MISSED!” Pete gasps in dismay. “TORU moved at the last moment, and Zyon missed!” TORU seems to have realised what’s going on, and the Japanese Hammer crawls over to the crash site and locates Zyon’s body, then drapes one arm over his opponent’s chest. Brian Warner, clearly wanting to check on Zyon’s health but called into duty, drops to make the count… ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! *DING-DING-DING!* “Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner,” Funyon booms as ‘Teethgrinder’ by Therapy? kicks up over the PA system again, “TOOOOORRRR-RRRUUUUUUUU… TAKA-HAAAAAARRRRRRRAAAAAAAAA!!” TORU himself is finding it difficult to stand, but a still-slightly-wobbly Chris Card comes forward to provide a shoulder for the Japanese Hammer to lean on, along with the stolen Tag Title belt. However, most eyes are on Brian Warner as he urgently motions to the back for help. “Fans, it seems that Zyon may be badly hurt,” Pete states in sombre tones. “We’ll have KOJI Kitano taking on Spike Jenkins in a few minutes, but right now we need to take a break.” As Pete stops speaking a chant is heard in the background: “ZYYYYYYYYY-ON…” “ZYYYYYYYYY-ON…” “ZYYYYYYYYY-ON…” FADE OUT