Kaertos

Just a note ... It is usually a good idea to PM the guy making the card if you need a show off instead of just saying it on the boards. We are pretty good about catching this sort of thing, but in the rush to get a show up and booked, we miss them.

From Rounders "In the poker game of life, women are the rake... they are the f*ckin' rake." From The 13th Warrior "Do we have anything resembling a plan?" "Yes. Ride 'till we find them, kill them all."

::GS tries to repress bad joke impulse... ::fails:: No, the car would have to be a Ford Probe.

Guys, as much as I hate to say it, this is pretty close to the casual fans view of the show the first time they check it out in a while. Remember that while we think Benoit and Eddie having the Big Belts is the greatest thing since sliced bread, the casual fan can barely remember who they are...

They lost to Xavier in the second round of the A-10 Tourney.

Well man, if that's what you're hoping, then I hope that's how it turns out. But, just to be the wet blanket here, what are you going to do with the kid if he isn't yours now that you care about the little rugrat? Are you still thinking Children's Services? On that note, let me say that I admire the stance you are taking with the kid. You've got a lot more responsible outlook on the situation than I would have had at your age.

I've read this whole thread, and I think it will make it much easier on everyone when we realize one simple fact: No politician that has run for president since I have been of voting age (12 years now) has had anything but their own best interests in mind. Call me cynical, but I doubt that any of them was running for president thinking about how they could help the people of this country. And for that matter, I doubt anyone who has millions of dollars in cash in the bank gives a flying fig about the working man busting his hump for 10 or 12 bucks an hour. So far, I have seen very little evidence to support the theory that anyone running for the Presidency is an honest upstanding guy. And the sad truth is America doesn't want honesty. We want outlandish promises that say you are going to cut taxes and spend more (blatant lie), that you will institute National Health Care (not-as-blatant, but still a lie) and that you really want what is best for the country. No, what they really want is to be re-elected for a second term, then live high on the hog the rest of their lives. So frustrating... I forget who said this, but I firmly believe it: "Those who wish to rule are the least qualified. Those most qualified are the least likely to actually attempt to do the job."

So CVM, any updates? You can't leave us hanging like this brother!

So... no plans on when the draft will be, no more teams signed up... This does not look promising. I am disappointed.

The only poet I have a collection of is Robert Frost, and I keep it at my desk at home for when I need a little guidance and inspiration. Much better than a picture of a lighthouse that says "Inspiration" underneath it. I could read Frost everyday. The imagery, the lyrical rhythm... I love it. here at work I keep certain poems hanging on a file cabinet for when I need a little boost. The collection: - Ulysses by Lord Alfred Tennyson - I appreciate this more and more the older I get. Some days, just reading the last stanza is enough to give me goosebumps. - Game Called by Grantland Rice - I quoted this in a promo I wrote in the SWF. I love this, and my wife knows that, were something to happen, this is to be read at my funeral. - Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening - I disagreed with my AP English teacher many years ago when he said this was about death. I thought it was about responisbility, but the older I get... - The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost - I love the irony of this poem. It is often quoted as being about non-conformity, but a close reading, at least to me, tells of the false choices you can fool yourself into by thinking you are doing something daring and different. - Nothing Gold Can Stay by (you guessed it) Robert Frost - This is a reminder to me that all things pass, and all things, good or bad or indifferent, end.

They've probably made whatever site take them down. I know Lucasfilm is a little cranky about them being posted in the first place, as is the company they were stolen from.

Dude... I had no idea you were GoldenEye. Wow. You were a part of the MonStars weren't you? I think one of my first matches had one of your guys in it... And, as trivia, Daemon was supposed to be my tag partner in the IGNJL when FTW made a run at the tag straps...

From thedigitalbits.com: I doubt the final packaging will resemble the prototypes at all.

I guess that makes me a 1st generation guy then, as I joined in October / November of 2000. Whee! Oh, and who were you back in the day Jake, because I don;t remember you being around. i could be wrong, of course...

I have been bugging my sister-in-law's boyfriend to join. So I run out this morning to see if the info on the website is correct and it isn't there. It says that the directory listing has been denied. Luckily, I also gave him the swf.thesmartmarks.com address... Who is responsible for keeping track of this?

Just out of curiosity, which "Five minutes of nothing happening" were you referrng to? Because I can;t honestly think of a scene that I would have taken out of RotK.

SWF Smarkdown March 1, 2004 LIVE from the SOLD-OUT Coleman Coliseum in Tuscaloosa, Alabama!! All materials due by 7:00 PM Eastern Time Send to: realitycheck Singles Match Toxxic v. Jimmy "The Demon" Liston Toxxic won the Hardcore Gamers #1 Contendership last week on Lockdown in impressive fasion. So far, the newest SWFer has impressed the hell out of the front office. But Liston sees a chance to make an impression of his own, a chance to show that he has what it takes to be a contender, to be the top man in the business... Rules: Standard singles match Word Count: 3500 Send to: Grand Slam Hardcore Match Dace Night v. "Coyote" Coy West Two competing interests collide in this one. After Lockdown, Dace requested someone, anyone, in a classic Hardcore brawl to get the kinks out for From the Fire. Mere moments later, West was in the commisioner's office with a few complaints of his own about his ICTV match with Grappler. What better way to make both men happy than to let them vent all of their frustrations on each other? Rules: Hardcore match Word Count: 4500 Send to: chirs3 SWF Legends Match (non-title) Sacred v. Jay Dawg Who needs an explaination for this classic duel? Fine... Sacred is the reigning USJL champion and will defend his title at From the Fire. JD is a returning legend who wants to test his mettle against the best and brightest in the business. Years of expierience collide in the ring on Smarkdown!! Rules: Standard singles match, but the ref will give both men plenty of latitude in the match Word Count: 4500 Send to: Thoth Singles Match for the SWF Cruiserweight Title WildChild © v. Alan Clark Clark is the number one contender to the title, but he has match with Thugg at From the Fire. But that's fine, as WildChild and his partner Johnny Dangerous will defend the Tag Titles against the House of Todd the same night. Neither man wanted to wait until mid-March to decide this, so the match is on, and it is on Smarkdown!! Rules: Standard singles match Word Count: 5500 Send to: realitycheck Tag Team Match Terrance "Janus" Bailey & Charlie "The Grappler" Matthews v. The Unnamed (John "Notorious One" Duran and Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix) Janus and Duran will throw down at FtF. Matthews will try and take away the Unnamed leader's World Title at the same show. Anything else need to be said about the tension in this match? Could there be any more quotation marks? No, I didn't think so either. Rules: Standard tag match Word Count: 6000 Send to: Grand Slam Fatal Four Way Match for the #1 Contender to the SWF Intercontinental-Television Championship Ann "Ichiban" Onita v. "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins v. Mike Van Siclen v. Insane Luchador At From the Fire, The Grappler will have to pull double duty. Before he has the chance to go up against the monster Va'aiga for the World Title, he must defeat the winner of this match to retain his hopes of being a double champion. His opponent will have the chance to go after one of the best technical wrestlers in the Fed in a state where he can't expend too much energy... now that's a prize worth fighting for! Rules: No DQ, first pinfall or submission wins Word Count: 6000 Send to: realitycheck

Indeed, falls must be in the ring. And on the Jenkins thing, I have no PM in my box to that effect, so I claim innocence.

I just knew I was going to hear about this one either way when I made the decision. It was a very difficult decision. Yeah, Grap's match was shorter. To be fair though, you were like 38 words over by my count West. I could have just DQd the match, but I made the executive decision to mark off some points for that and grade anyways. I don't want to get into too many specifics because A: I don;t like critiqing anyone;s match in an open forumn and B: I really am trying to write up the Smarkdown card, but since it is posted, here are the two things I remember being negatives on your match West. - You repeated phrases like "once again" over and over and over in your match which made it very difficult for me to read fluidly - Something about the suddeness of the ending made it seem like you were cooking along, saw the word limit getting close and just wrote a roll-up ending. That's just me. I'm sure everyone will disagree with me, but them's the breaks.

I think I got a 1210, but this was back in 1990 and the test that year was tough. With a 1210 I was still in the 99th percentile. I was 99th percentile in the PSAT and 99th percentile on the ACT.

So there we are. Not the best show we've ever put on, but certainly not the worst. Card will be up this afternoon. Any match requests would still be welcome. Oh, and if Thoth knows how to get he image into the "Mouse-Trap" "Match" then please do. I couldn't get it to work.

As SWF Lockdown begins, there is nothing. No explosions. No music. No pyrotechnics. Nothing. All that can be seen is a black screen, that slowly fades up to show an SWF production truck. Alan Clark sits outside, his head down. Behind him, the door to the truck opens and a man pops his head out. Man: Yo, what you want? Alan pops up and turns around. Alan: Hey, nothing much really. Could you play this tape? Alan pulls a tape out and hands it to the man. Man: Sure, when you want it played? Alan: Right now, if you can. Man: Okay. Alan turns and walks away, a slight smile on his face as the screen fades to black. ----- CUE: “Wanted Dead or Alive” by Bon Jovi The video begins, and the music begins as well. It's all the same, only the names will change Everyday it seems we're wasting away The video shows black and white video of Bloodshed, Apostle, and Alan Clark in various matches, bleeding, sweating, crying. Their images fade to black. Another place where the faces are so cold I'd drive all night just to get back home To the road, Alan sits in his tour bus as it rides down the highways of America from stop to stop, slowly images of Alan lashing out at Landon Maddix, at Mark Stevens, and his various run-ins with Thugg are superimposed over the comfortable Clark in his bus. Soon, they fade over the chorus. I'm wanted dead or alive Wanted dead or alive Shots of Alan Clark walking backstage are shown, his guitar on his back. I walk these streets, a loaded six string on my back I play for keeps, 'cause I might not make it back The video turns to the various images of Alan holding Junior League championships high in the air… I been everywhere, still I'm standing tall The last image is of Alan holding the JL World Title over his head, a few tears on his face, mixed with blood. I've seen a million faces and I've rocked them all As Alan stands in the ring up on the corner and looking out over a cheering, explosive crowd…the images all fade to black…then a rain-soaked highway, two headlights burning in the distance. I'm wanted dead or alive I'm a cowboy, I got the night on my side I'm wanted dead or alive Wanted dead or alive The music slowly fades, and the video goes to darkness. ------ In the arena, everything is still shrouded in darkness. The lights slowly come up, and reveal Alan Clark standing in the center of the ring, a microphone in hand. His head is down, his hair has grown enough to begin to fall over his face. The smile is gone from Alan’s face as he looks up to the crowd, some of who have begun cheering. Alan just stares, cold. Alan: Stop. Stop cheering, please. The crowd seems confused, and slowly the cheers disappear. Alan pauses for a moment and continues. Alan: Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. As some of you may have noticed – in the last few weeks I have done nothing to receive any of these cheers. I came into Cluster(bleep) with high hopes and dreams, and they were shattered in an instant. I faced loses at the hands of both members of Wild and Dangerous. It seems the only thing I have done has interjected myself in places that I should not. Thugg attacks Landon – a man I have come to almost loathe for his turncoat ways. A man that took away my chances at leaving the SJL a victorious man. He destroyed those dreams. Thugg attacks Spike Jenkins – a man that I too have had the pleasure in making tap out and defeat, and leave lying in the middle of the ring. But then Thugg makes his way to me…and I could not take it anymore. I was raised to care about the lives of others. No matter how much I hate Landon Maddix or Todd Royal…no matter how many times I defeat any wrestler – I know that they have lives just like me, and they do not want to see them destroyed in this ring. But Thugg, he was different. He cares only about himself, and trying to make himself look like a tough guy by throwing around three men that are half his size. Landon, Spike, they mean nothing to me compared to how much it means to see Thugg finally get exactly what is coming to him. Mark…Commissioner Stevens…you give me a chance at From The Fire to exact a little bit of revenge for all the pain I have suffered these last few weeks. I know out there somewhere that Thugg is watching…and this is directed right at him… Alan’s eyes focus on the camera right in front of him. Alan: Don’t think for one second that the pain and the anguish I have been feeling inside these last few weeks is all because of you, oh no. This pain, this anguish, this fire that burns within me is all about what’s right in here… Alan points to his head. Some of these fans can remember that a few months ago, I took on Todd Royal for the JL World Championship in a Falls Count Anywhere match. In the end, I dove off a production truck and left a Todd-sized dent in the roof of a limousine. I told the whole world that it didn’t matter what had to happen, and what extremes I had to go to…I would get the job done. And that is exactly what I did that night in Anchorage, Alaska. I took myself to the limit and won that gold and I sat in that ring and cried. I knew I had finally accomplished something that I could be proud about… Alan falls to his knees, his body hunched over. But I wasn’t proud for long. NO I WASN’T! In the next month, I would lose both the European and World Championships to the same man, Landon Maddix, and I couldn’t even fathom…in my own mind…what was going on. I choked. I (bleep)ing choked! DO YOU HEAR ME OUT THERE? ALAN CLARK CHOKED! Alan points out to the crowd from his knees, his arm slowly moving back and forth. Did you feel the pain coursing through my body…and my mind…when Landon Maddix defeated me? No! Nobody did! And what did I do then…what did I do…I hugged him. I (bleep)ing hugged him! I wanted to show my respect to everyone watching…but I had no reason to be respectful. It was the end of one era…and I went out a loser…then I stepped head on into the beginning of another…and I came in a loser! The last thing I needed was that big mother(bleep)er attacking me backstage and calling me a (bleep)ing bitch! Alan stays on his knees, clenching his fists with rage. So look now! LOOK NOW! Look what I have in MY future…Alan Clark taking on H…V…T…Thugg…one on one in a STREET FIGHT! No matter what…at the end of that match, Thugg will be gone for good. FOREVER! That is for certain…a constant. But in with that constant, I am the variable. It’s all up to me, now, as to whether Thugg leaves From The Fire and the SWF as a winner…or as a loser. Alan stands back up to his feet and paces around the ring slowly. It’s up to me! It’s all on my shoulders…on my back…on my mind! All on Alan Clark…I have to bring my ‘A’ game and try my hardest to end the career of Thugg as nothing more than another down note in his life. And you know what…I’m not coming to From The Fire alone… oh no… Alan Clark’s demeanor changes rapidly a he moves faster and faster around the ring. You people all think I’m crazy! But I’m NOT! I am anything BUT crazy…in fact…I may just be the SMARTEST MAN ALIVE right now! Alan begins laughing almost maniacally as he falls onto his knees and looks into the camera. Come on Thugg…you want to come and get me? I’ll be at From The Fire…but you won’t just have to deal with ME… NO! NO THUGG! I WON’T BE ALONE! …Bloodshed is coming, Thugg…oh yes he is…the man that almost ended the life of Craig McLennan by tossing him down a flight of stairs... The Apostle…he’s sure to show up too! The man that made Silent tap out! The man that drove Jamie Drazon’s head into the center of this ring and knocked him out cold! The man that defeated Crow, arguably one of the greatest SJL World Champions EVER! The same man, Thugg…the same man that defied all the odds put against him to almost make it to the finals of the Genesis Four Tournament… They are coming, Thugg… they stand beside me and they fight with me. You want to know what it’s like to stand across the ring from the three of us… go ask Todd Royal! Ask him how his back felt as he got slammed into that limousine…or how it felt to have pure blood sprayed into his eyes! Ask him how much it pained him when he regained consciousness backstage and saw Alan Clark in the ring holding his World Heavyweight Championship! NO THUGG…I’m not crazy…I’m not insane…I know the truth… I know EXACTLY how I am! But the question that I place before you…and before everyone else watching at home…is do YOU know exactly who I am? Do YOU know exactly what you are getting into, Thugg, when in a less than two weeks you are standing across the ring from not just Alan Clark…but all who have come before him? Do you think for one (bleep)ing second that I’m not going to seize this opportunity and leave you lying in a pool of your own blood…or a pool of mine? Do you have any IDEA exactly how much torture the human body can go through before it just SHUTS DOWN? …Guess what, CUZ… at From the Fire… YOU WILL KNOW THE ANSWER! YOU WILL KNOW THE TRUTH! YOU WILL BE ROCKED! …and the only thing that you or anyone else can do about it…. …is to simply WAIT… …AND… …(bleep)ING… …BLEED~! Alan drops the microphone as he gets to his feet, the crowd in stunned silence around him. As he crawls out of the ring and heads toward the curtain…an image slowly fades up onto the SmarkTron… ----- Silence… Dead silence… And then… “OH MY GOD!!! SOMEONE JUST SPEARED ALAN CLARK RIGHT OUT OF HIS BOOTS!!” Comet’s voice is heard as HVT spears Clark right into a wall, leaving him laid out in the hallway. The still black and white images of the attack fade in and out over the screen, stopping on the small index card… “Welcome to the SWF, You Are Officially My Bitch” More still images, taken in the ring, where Thugg was brutally fired by Commissioner Stevens… “you are no longer an employee of the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation…YOU ARE FIRED!!” Steven’s voice fades away, replaced by a sold-out arena… “Na, na, na, na.” “Na, na, na, na.” “Hey, hey, hey.” “Goodbye!” Thugg leaves the ring, surrounded by security, his eyes burning with anger…the crowd’s explosive chanting dies away… …More images appear, taken later that evening, as HVT finds his car destroyed at the hands of Alan Clark. Thugg’s voice can be heard over the images… WHAT THE (BLEEP)!?! The images fade away over the same card left earlier in the hallway, and Thugg walks away from his car, pissed. One final voice is heard as the images fade… “I…want…Thugg…NOW!” Alan’s voice is heard screaming out…then more images appear…showcasing the interactions from Thugg and Alan Clark since that Lockdown two weeks earlier. Mixed with the images of Thugg and Alan, are also shots from Clark’s recent losses at the hands of both Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous. The distraught look is in his eyes as he tastes defeat twice in a little over a week’s time. A deep ominous voice is heard… “One man… HVT…Thugg…a man with no concern for the lives of his fellow man. A man disgraced and humiliated…fired… And another…Alan Clark…a man that some say doesn’t have what it takes to succeed in the big leagues. A man that has his shot to show the world exactly the kind of person he is. One man…a fighter…a veteran...a human wrecking ball. The other…a smartass…a psycho…a walking time bomb. These two shall meet in volatile circumstances. It is for sure one man’s final match…his last chance to show himself as better than anyone else. For the other man, it could very well be the beginning of something special. Thugg… Clark… A Street Fight. For Pride. For Revenge. For Victory. FROM THE FIRE 2004 ----- …The SmarkTron fades to various shots of Thugg and Alan Clark from the past two weeks, ending on a shot of Alan Clark standing off in the distance as Thugg finds his destroyed car. As Lockdown heads to it’s first commercial break. The image of Thugg and his car fades away, leaving a still shot of Alan on the SmarkTron…slowly the images of Bloodshed and The Apostle appear next to Alan Clark. They stand side by side…then slowly they move back together into one solid image of Alan Clark… …and the thunder rolls.

*BOOM!* IT’S MAIN EVENT TIME~ The rabid, topless fans in the New Orleans Arena EXPLODE as SWF Lockdown returns from its final commercial break! After an amazing night of action so far, the twenty thousand plus Louisianans are PUMPED for the final match of the evening! “Welcome back to SWF Lockdown, citizens!” greets a cheerful Comet, “we’ve had SUCH an exciting night so far, I don’t know how we’ll top it, but we WILL with our main event!” “PUH – LEEEEZE!” groans Riley, “Two old school guys, one’s a beast and one’s a hick, tying up for the Intercontinental Television Championship. Someone, get me some caffeine!” Comet offers Bobbo his Pepsi Max™, but realizes what his partner is saying, and retracts the offer. “Bobbo, what on earth do you mean? Citizen Matthews, the ICTV Champion, has nearly abandoned his old, plodding, boring style, and adapted exciting new moves! Even Coy West, the challenger can make for an exciting experience! While he IS sometimes retro in his style, he can certainly get the job done.” “Well, we’ll see, Comet. Hey, you know what? I hope I eat my words later. But I sincerely doubt that I will.” “Ladies and gentlemen,” interjects Funyon, “the following contest is our MAIN EVENT, scheduled for one fall, and it is for the S – W – F INTERCONTINENTAL TELEVISION CHAAAAAAAMPIONSHIP! Introducing first, the challenger!” With that, Sara Evans’ “Perfect” echoes through the New Orleans Arena, and the crowd bursts into cheers! Baby every little piece of the puzzle doesn't always fit perfectly, love can be rought around the edges and tathered down the seams, Honey if it's good enough for you it's good enough for me Oh you’re good enough for me,Yeah you’re good enough for me, Oh you’re good enough for me! Coy energetically emerges from backstage, mullet flowing freely in the breeze as he jogs down the ramp towards the ring. He attempts to high-five the fans in the front row, but when they smell him, they back away from the vehicle. Nonplussed, West reaches the ringside area and slides head first into the ring. “In the ring, from The S.S. General Lee, Junior, weighing in at 240 pounds, he is the COYOOOOOOOOOTE, COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY WEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSTTT!” Coy raises his arms into the air, and the crowd roars their approval of the loveable redneck. He takes a spot in the corner to await the start of the match. “And his opponent…” Metallica’s “Some Kind of Monster” kicks in, and the crowd goes CRAZY as the lights go out and a single spotlight shines on the curtain! Finally, as the lyrics kick in, Charlie Matthews emerges, ICTV belt firmly strapped around his waist as he begins walking down the ramp. “From Kansas City, Missouri, weighing in at 301 pounds…this is the S – W – F INTERCONTINENTAL TELEVISION CHAMPION, this is CHAAAAAAAAAARLIE ‘GRAPPLER’ MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATTHEWSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!” Matthews continues his march to the ring, taking his time climbing up the ring steps and stepping between the ropes. Once in the ring, he hands the belt to referee Nick Soapdish. Soapdish holds the belt up for all the crowd to see, then shows it to Coy, who chuckles and nods, and then to Grappler, who confidently nods. Finally, Nick hands the belt to the timekeeper and signals for the match to begin! *DING DING DING!* Without any hesitation, Matthews and West advance towards the center of the ring, and at the same time, they lunge forward, intertwining their arms in a collar-elbow tie-up! Surprisingly, after a brief struggle, Coy is able to twist Grappler’s left arm into a wristlock! Though initially caught off guard, Charlie is quite easily able to duck under the Coyote’s arm and twist his arm around, executing his own wristlock to break the one on him. With the strength advantage, Grappler is able to keep this wristlock on, and he pushes against Coy, bringing him all the way into the corner. Soapdish asks for a clean break, and gets one immediately. “In this feeling out process,” explains Comet, “both men are trying to get a sense of what the other is all about. Usually, the challenger, Coy, is able to gain an advantage on his opponent via his retro style, but that may not work here; Citizen Matthews himself utilizes a retro style!” “That’s why I think Matthews has this one in the bag, Comet,” replies Riley, “I mean, the whole psychological shift of Coy’s moveset usually works, but it’s USELESS against Grappler. West better have a whole new game plan, but seeing how he’s dressed, I severely doubt it.” Matthews backs out of the corner and allows West to get out himself. As soon as he does, though, Charlie lunges forward, looking to execute another tie-up…but Coy ducks! As Charlie turns around, Coy lights up the champion’s chest with hard knife edge chops! *SMACK!* “WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” *SMACK!* “WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” *SMACK!* “WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” The chops reel Matthews, and as he leans against the nearby ropes for support, the Coyote grabs him by the arm and whips him towards the opposite ropes, but Charlie spins around, reversing the momentum and sending West over! As he rebounds, Grappler bends over, and when Coy reaches him, he stands up, flipping the challenger UP UP UP into the air, almost eight feet, before he comes CRASHING down with a back body drop! The Coyote HOWLS~ at the moon in pain, but Grappler quickly drops down onto his knees, wrapping his right arm around West’s head, squeezing tight with a side headlock! “And Matthews sticks with what made him in the first place,” points out Comet, “first using his strength, and then his technical savvy to his advantage against Wil E. Coyote.” “Hey, that was a good analogy, Comet!” Riley compliments, “Grappler can be like the Roadrunner in this match, except…without all the speed. Or the brevity. Or the comedic value.” Matthews keeps the pressure on, compressing Coy’s head millimeter by millimeter. However, West isn’t that weak, and he starts to sit up, struggling to break free! Once his upper body is off the mat, the Coyote turns and gets to his knees. Matthews gets up as well, trying to maintain the leverage advantage, but this only allows Coy to get all the way up to his feet! With the crowd cheering loudly, West shoots an elbow back into Grappler’s gut… a second one… and a THIRD that finally breaks the headlock! With Charlie stunned, Coy unleashes with more knife edge chops! *SMACK!* “WOOOOOOOO!” *SMACK!* “WOOOOOOOO!” As Grappler stumbles back, Coy leaps into the air, shooting his legs out and catching Matthews in the chest with a dropkick! The force of the blow pushes Charlie back into the corner, where he remains, catching his breath. Using this to his advantage, West charges forward, crashing into Matthews with a body splash! As Coy turns, he wraps his arm around Charlie’s neck, grabbing a headlock. From there, he runs forward, bringing Grappler with him as he leaps up and sits down, driving Charlie’s face into the mat with a bulldog headlock! As Matthews turns onto his back, Coy quickly hooks his far leg and Nick Soapdish drops down to count the pin! ”ONE!” “T – NO!” “I just HATE when people do that!” blasts Riley, “do they actually think some simple offense is going to put a guy down for a three count? In a TITLE match, no less? Against a guy like GRAPPLER?!” “Bobbo, it’s for a few reasons,” Comet explains, for seemingly the thousandth time, “first, to gain a psychological advantage on the opponent. Citizen West may need this, since his retro throw-off won’t work. Second, it slowly wears the pinned wrestler down, as he has to exert energy to kick out.” “Don’t sound so high and mighty, Comet,” Riley replies, “I…obviously wasn’t asking for me, I was asking for the thousands of idiots watching at home and wondering the same thing.” Matthews easily gets his shoulder off the canvas, but as soon as he does, Coyote does exactly what Grappler did to him, wrapping his arm around his head with a tight side headlock! Coy attempts to keep the pressure on as Charlie did, but being weaker than the champion doesn’t help matters. Grappler quickly begins to fight out, going through the same motion that Coy did. As he reaches his knees, though, Matthews simply pops up and ducks underneath Coy’s arm, hoisting him up into the air diagonally, going for a backdrop suplex…but West flips backwards, escaping the move and landing behind Grappler, on his feet! Reacting before the champion even realizes what happened, West reaches forward and locks his arms around Matthews’ waist, holding him tight with a waistlock! West arches back and lifts with all of his might, but Grappler simply holds his ground, refusing to take the German Suplex! After more struggling by the Coyote, Charlie decides that the only way to escape is to simply kick his legs out, using his weight advantage to fall against Coy and push him down, all the way to the mat! *SQUASH!* “OOOOOOOOOH!” Matthews simply remains on top of West, and Nick Soapdish quickly drops down to count this rather unorthodox pin! “ONE!” “TWO!” KICKOUT! Coy gets his shoulder up, which is a difficult task considering the three hundred pounds on top of him. “Quite a…different way to shift the momentum,” says Comet, “Citizen Matthews just let the, uh, motion of the ocean carry him down and on top of Coy, almost resulting in the win!” “Well, Comet, the bigger guy will always shift the momentum his way,” cites Riley, “I learned it in chemistry. See, when you work with the reaction quotient, Q, and the equilibrium constant, K, whichever is bigger has the chemical reaction shift in its favor.” Comet simply stares at his partner. “What, you thought I just looked up my teacher’s skirt the whole class?” Riley, asks. “Quite the contrary, Bobbo.” Grappler gets up off of his opponent, walking into the nearest corner to give Coy an opportunity to get to his feet. However, as soon as West gets on all fours, Matthews charges out of the corner, dropping down and driving the tip of his elbow right into the Coyote’s neck! The challenger hits the mat, but Charlie brings him right back up to his feet forcefully, and hammers him with three hard punches to the head. With Coy reeling, Matthews grabs him by the arm and whips him towards the ropes. As West rebounds, Charlie backs against the nearby ropes and charges at Coy himself. Just before the two meet in the center of the ring, the champion leaps into the air, shooting his knee out and catching West right in the nose with a high knee strike! West drops to the mat, and Charlie covers the challenger again, as Soapdish counts! “ONE!” “TWO!” KICKOUT AGAIN! Looking to pressure his opponent some more, Matthews hooks Coy’s leg this time, bringing it back with an even tighter pin as Soapdish counts again! “ONE!” “TWO!” ANOTHER SHOULDER UP! Still nonplussed (at least on the outside), Grappler calmly brings Coyote back up to his feet. Grabbing his arm, Charlie whips West into the ropes once again. As Coy rebounds, the champion swings his arm around for a BIG clothesline…but Coy ducks! West runs to the opposite ropes, and as Matthews turns around, he sees Coy come back and shoot his legs downward, nailing him right in the knees with a basement dropkick! The force drops Matthews down, face first onto the mat! “FINALLY!” cries Riley, “I mean, I know he’s a stupid inbred hick and everything, but as a wrestler, you think he’d know better.” “What on EARTH are you talking about, Bobbo?” asks Comet, “I mean, besides making the awful Southern joke, what is the point of your tirade?” “Let me finish, you clown. Look; Grappler is taller and bigger than Coy…obviously he’s advantaged, so the smart move would be to take out his legs. I mean, I can’t believe this Coyote or whatever didn’t figure that out sooner!” “Indeed, Bobbo, going for the legs could very well be the key to a new Intercontinental Television Champion, right here tonight in New Orleans!” With Matthews down, Coy hurries to his legs and places his foot against the back of Charlie’s left knee, before lifting the leg up…and stomping down on it! West removes his foot from the knee, but holds onto Matthews’ boot, lifting it up and slamming the knee back down against the canvas again! Struggling to get a moment free, Matthews scurries over to the nearest ropes, grabbing on to them, preventing Coy from doing any further damage to his knee. As West takes a step back, Charlie uses the ropes to pull himself back up to his feet. As soon as he gets to his feet, though, the Coyote charges and leaps into the air, swinging his arm around and connecting with a leaping lariat on the champion… and Coy’s momentum carries both men over the top rope, and all the way down to the floor! “Things could get very ugly in a moment, Bobbo,” cautions Comet, “Citizen West has begun targeting that knee of the ICTV Champion, and on the outside of the ring, anything could happen!” “Well, anything would result in a disqualification, Comet,” shoots back Riley, “I’m sure Coy knows that…his fortune in this company depends on it. Wait, I’m sure he DOESN’T know that. He is a redneck, after all.” Both competitors bring themselves up to their respective feet at the same time, the New Orleans crowd throwing random beads and jambalaya at them as they recover. Charlie tries to get the advantage by catching Coy with a hard punch to the head, and he grabs West by the arm. Meanwhile, in the ring, Nick Soapdish begins the obligatory ten count. “ONE!” “TWO!” With Coyote in his grasp, Matthews whips him towards the ring steps…but some how, some way, West spins around and reverses the momentum… “THREE!” *CRAAAAAASH!* …and Matthews collides with the ring steps, KNEES FIRST! “FOUR!” The momentum carries Grappler OVER the steps, and he falls onto the floor on the other side! “FIVE!” With the damage done, Coy West slides back into the ring, as Matthews remains on the outside. “SIX!” “SEVEN!” “This probably isn’t the best idea,” notes Comet, “because if Citizen West lets Matthews be counted out, he won’t be the ICTV Champion!” However, Matthews begins rising to his feet as if on cue, using the ring steps to support himself. “EIGHT!” He begins walking towards the ring, carefully favoring his knees. “NINE!” At the last second, Grappler rolls back into the ring, just making the ten count. However, as he rolls under the ropes, Coy stays right on him, stomping down on his left knee! Matthews tries to fight it, but Coy grabs a hold of the left leg and drags him across the mat, to the center of the ring! “Coy is just being RELENTLESS and AGGRESSIVE!” Comet cries, “and it certainly is helping him!” “You’re right about that, Comet,” Riley agrees, “Coy couldn’t catch Grappler off guard with his wrestling style, so he’s…catching him off guard with his wrestling style. Well, you know; the aggressive wrestling style, I mean.” With Matthews flat on his back (but his shoulders up), Coy keeps a hold on the left leg and spins around it, wrenching it tight with a spinning toe hold! Grappler cries out in pain as his leg is excruciatingly twisted, contorted, and pressured. “LET’S – GO – GRAPPLER!” “LET’S – GO – GRAPPLER!” The New Orleans fans strongly get behind the ICTV Champion, trying to rally him to fight out of the spinning toe hold. However, the challenger won’t let Matthews off that easily, as he keeps the hold in. Grappler denies Soapdish’s usual questioning of if he wants to quit, so Coy looks to add more damage. He rotates around Matthews’ leg again, but as he bends down to apply more pressure, Grappler uses his last ounce of energy to sit up and reach up, grabbing Coy by the head and pulling him down, right into a small package! Soapdish quickly drops down and begins counting, with the entire New Orleans Arena counting along! “ONE!” “TWO!” “THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Coy gets his shoulder off the canvas! “Holy catfish, Bobbo, how close were we to the match ending right then and there?!” questions Comet, “It’s moments like that that demand your absolute attention; they’re blink – and – you – miss – it moments, and thousands of people turning away for a split three seconds could have missed Matthews retaining the title!” A beat, and then, “Comet, you’re a very, very, very weird person. Yes, that was a close fall, but your description is just…” “Vivid? Lively? Vociferous?” “Umm, sure.” Matthews slowly limps to his feet, but Coy hurries and beats the champion there. He runs forward blindly at Grappler, and Charlie uses this to his advantage, as he ducks under West’s arm and looks to sweep his leg out with an STO…but Coyote sees this coming and elbows Charlie in the back of the head thrice to break it! As Grappler stumbles forward, Coy digs his fingernails into Grappler’s back and rakes down, causing blood to GUSH out of his back with a bloody, vicious back rake! Okay, so it wasn’t that bad. But it was agonizing. Matthews holds his back in sheer pain, so West remains behind him and ducks under his arm, before summoning all of his strength to lift him up off the mat, into the air, dropping him down on his back with a big, ring rocking suplex! Coy stays on his knees and looks to go for the pin…but instead he moves to Matthews’ leg and drives an elbow down onto it, causing more pain to the injured joint! Now he covers Matthews, and Soapdish drops down to count! “ONE!” “TWO!” KICKOUT! “Citizen Matthews gets the shoulder up again, but this may be for the last time!” notes Comet, “as much as I love our ICTV Champion, I don’t know how much more he can withstand!” “Coy’s having an awesome showing out here tonight,” agrees Riley, “but I don’t know if he can match up with the brute strength of Grappler.” With Matthews slowly rising to his feet, Coy gets up quickly and gets an idea, scaling the nearest turnbuckle, climbing to the top rope. The champion gets to his feet, and as he turns around, towards West… the Coyote LEAPS off, sailing through the air with a cross body block. As he does, Grappler lowers his shoulders ever so slightly, and he CATCHES COY ON HIS SHOULDERS! Now holding the challenger in a fireman’s carry position, Charlie turns and begins running, looking to DRIVE Coy’s head into the mat with the Time Machine Death Valley Driver…but no! As Charlie runs, Coy is able to kick his legs around the back of Matthews’ head, spin around, and fall, trapping Grappler’s head in a front facelock as he falls backwards, executing a HUGE spinning DDT! “UNBELIEVABLE!” cries Comet, “Citizen West just countered the patented Matthews Time Machine with a DDT!” “I’m actually quite surprised!” notes Riley, “I didn’t expect Coy West to make such a run for the Title here tonight! He very believably could win right here, right now! And, hey, I mean right now, he’s going for another pin!” Soapdish drops to count the pin, the fans counting along! “ONE!” “TWO!” “THREEEEEEEEEEEENOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” Matthews gets his shoulder up, and a large portion of the crowd cheers their lungs out as Grappler stays in this match! However, Coy feels that, as the song says, the end is near, and brings Charlie back up to his feet. Coyote once again traps Grappler in a front facelock, and he walks to the nearest ropes. “AAAAAAAAAAA – OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!” West howls at the moon, and the fans do the same as he grabs Charlie by the tights, lifting him up into the air for the slingshot suplex! He gets the three hundred pound Matthews off of his feet, but before he can do anything else, Charlie uses his weight to his advantage, and drops back down onto his feet! The two men are still entangled in the front facelock, and Matthews simply knees Coy in the midsection to stun him! Charlie holds onto the front facelock and hoists COY up into the air, and the fans BURST into cheers as they see what’s coming next! “Holy sweet mother of Jasmine!” shouts Comet, “Citizen Matthews just escaped the slingshot suplex, and it may be time for the Wake Up Call!” “What an IDIOT!” screams Riley, “instead of sticking with the leg, like Coy should have, he goes for his finishing move that he couldn’t even LIFT Grappler up for!” Matthews rotates a half turn, holding West up for another five seconds… before he snaps around, falling back and SLAMMING COY DOWN WITH THE JACKHAMMER SUPLEX HE CALLS THE WAKE UP CALL! The New Orleans crowd erupts louder than they would for Trish Stratus earning her Mardi Gras beads as Matthews executes the move, and stays on top of Coy for the pin that Nick Soapdish gracefully counts!” “ONE!” “TWO!” “THREEEEEEEEEE!” *DING DING DING* “Some Kind of Monster” blasts through the speakers again, and the crowd EXPLODES! Matthews rolls off of West, exhausted in victory. Although he’s favoring his knee, Grappler is ecstatic to be on the roll that he’s currently on. “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,” booms Funyon, “the winner of this contest, and STIIIIIIL S – W – F INTERCONTINENTAL TELEVISION CHAMPION, CHAAAAAAAAAAARLIE ‘GRAPPLER’ MAAAAAAAAAAATTHEWSSSSSSS!!!!” Soapdish returns with the ICTV Title belt, and hands it to Matthews, who is now seated on the mat. Slowly, he brings himself up to his feet, stepping lightly on his left leg. He hoists the belt up high, much to the delight of the crowd. “What a match!” Comet says, “I truly believed Citizen West could’ve taken the match…his work on Matthews’ leg was SUPREME! As you can see, Matthews is still favoring that leg, but I certainly hope it heals up by From the Fire!” “That’s right, Comet,” replies Riley, “we’re about ten days away from Va’aiga and Charlie Matthews squaring off in a two straight falls match. This match proved something to me, but Matthews better bring EVERYTHING if he even HOPES to try and wrestle the title away from the Maori Badass.” “Well, citizens, that’s all for us at SWF Lockdown, as the FIRE continues to burn to our March pay-per-view extravaganza! For Bobbo Riley, I’m Cyclone Comet, GOOD NIGHT!” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ © 2004 Noble Gas Productions ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Welcome back to Ess Dubya Eff...Lockdown!!!" Cyclone Comet's booms in greeting as we are indeed back in New Orleans... ...where thousand of screaming 'Nawleans' natives begin to fill the arena with as much noise as possible. Meanwhile, rather than pan around the sea of unwashed humanity, the camera is focused on the ring, where around the entrance side of the ring and above the top a surreal contraption, possibly designed by a five year old mental patient, has been erected around it. A bag hangs from the ceiling by a long metal wire in one corner of the ring...there's pipes, a treadmill, a skateboard lying on the floor...MR BUKKAKE~!~! on the treadmill showing all the charisma of a frozen haddock. "...if you're wondering what the heck is surrounding the ring, all will be explained in moments..." Cyclone assures us. "Cyclone, what the heck is this?" Riley asks, holding up a crumpled piece of paper. "Wha...oh, that's my explanation." replies Comet. "See, around the ring is this...well...crude contraption. And this paper holds the details of the contraption..." "It looks like a five year old drew it. Look...it's drawn in crayon." says Riley, holding it up to the camera, revealing this... "You did a good job on that Bobbo." sneers Comet. "Ah shut up. Just get on with explaining this sham." "Well...this 'sham' is our next match. 'The Hardcore Queen' Annie Onita and Landon 'La Cucaracha' Maddix will step into this ring...but, in this match, there will be no pinfalls. No submissions. No DQ's. It's not first blood, or last man standing. Instead, to win this match you have to set off this contraption, causing your opponent to be trapped inside that cage hanging above the ring. Like Mouse Trap..." "That game sucked." snaps Riley. "And so does this match!" "DON'T CHU WANNA BE MEEEEE!!!" Suddenly Riley and Cyclone are cut by the roaring sound of Chris Jericho's voice...as the arena quickly fills with darkness, all except the four spotlights from the entrance way, and Landon's entrance video rolling on the SmartTron. The Unnamed's youngest member eventually bursts through the curtains, with his valet Megan Skye bringing up the (very plump) rear. With a quick stop and thrust out of the arms, Landon begins to stride down the ramp, not wasting any more time on the New Orleans crowd than he has to. "Ladies and gentlemen," Funyon's voice bursts into life. "...the following one on one contest will have no disqualifications, and can only be won by initiating the contrapation surrounding the ring and trapping the opponent in the cage. Introducing first...representing the Unnamed, and accompanied to the ring by Megan Skye. Weighing two hundred ten pounds...this is LAAANDOOON 'LA CUCARACHA' MAAADDIIIX!!!" Maddix manouvers his way around the pipes in front of the ring apron, and leaps up before holding his hand out as ever to help the lovely Megan to climb the tall height of the apron. He then holds the ropes open for Skye, before entering quickly after and glancing nervously up at the cage. "Well, do you think Landon knows how this thing works?" Comet questions. "Do YOU know how it works?" "No, but I'm not in the match." "But you've got a diagram..." "It was drawn by a seventh year old!" "And his oppo..." "Woah woah, hooold up!" Maddix shouts at Funyon, snatching the microphone from out of the SWF's premiere (and only) ring announcer. The crowd boo from the moment noise leaves Landon's lips, and continue on as he stands looking out at one section of them. "I've got something to say...so take yourself and your $10 suit and stand over in that corner. Oh, and Funyon...smile...you're on T.V. Now...Annie." The crowd pop for Annie's name. "Annie, Annie, Annie. Oh how I admire you. You've fought adversity, you've fought sexism...you've retired and un-retired yourself more times than Terry Funk. No doubt you're one hardcore momma. An abassador for females everywhere. You know, I'm new around here so I don't know VERY much about you. But I've spoken to the boys in the back, and you've certainly got respect. I've heard people liken you to those great women rolemodels, who stand up and kick ass like no others. Buffy...Xena...Margeret Thatcher...Andy Capp's wife." Some of the crowd laugh, but while their moods are lightening, Landon's suddenly begins to darken. "But me? Nah...I don't see you as some female heroine. I don't see you as an ambassador for women. I see you more...as a loaf of bread." "Huh?" questions Cyclone. "What the heck is that supposed to mean?" "Annie...you're much like a loaf of bread. At first, you were fresh, new...everybody liked you. But Annie...there's one thing about bread. The longer it's around, it becomes stale...and before you know it, it's toast. Annie...you too are stale. And you too are about to become toast. I'm going to slam you in the toaster, and burn your ass to a crisp! So bring your feminist, overall wearing, shaven headed, man hating, Doc Martens wearing lesbian ass out here...so I can shove it in a cage...like the animal that you are..." Right on cue, "Risky Gamble" by Megumi Hayashibara hits, cutting Landon off and eliciting an uproar of cheers around the arena. As Annie's figure appears on the SmarkTron, suit clad and in the James Bond esque stance. The camera spins around to her front... "BOOOOOM!!!" ...and pyro erupts on the stage, bringing the crowd to their feet, and Ann Onita onto the stage. No introduction needed...Annie paces down the ring as her sister Allison follows out. Quickly Annie sidesteps the pipes, and rolls into the ring... ...and the fight is on, as Landon jumps her with stomps as soon as Annie manages to roll in! *DING DING!* Landon continues to drive the furious stomps down onto Annie's prone frame, not allowing the Hardcore Queen to even make her feet. "IT - CHI - BAN IT- CHI - BAN!!!" The pro-Annie chants ring out through the arena, as Maddix relents on the stomps, turning out to the crowd and furiously yelling at them to shut up. Slowly Ichiban pulls herself up on the ropes, as Landon walks back over and hits a sharp kick to the ribs. Another connects seconds later...but Annie seems to be shrugging off the effects, and getting to her feet regardless of the punishment. In desperation Maddix swings with a right hand...but Annie manages to block it, and drive her own fist into Landon's gut! "RAAAAAHHH!!!" Annie follows up with a couple more rights to the ribs, getting to her feet into the process as the crowd are being driven into a frenzy! Rocked back, Landon does the first thing that comes into his mind and jams his finger into the Hardcore Queen's eye, the callous move not setting well with the crowd. "What a cheap shot!" snarls Cyclone. "T'was not gentlemanly conduct." "T'was?" Riley snaps. "This isn't the 1920's Comet. Kindly shut thy mouth!" With a grab of the wrist Landon prepares to whip Ann into the ropes, but gets a fist to the jaw for his troubles. Quickly Annie ducks under Maddix's arm as a counter, and pulls La Cucaracha forwards into her outstretched knee, and quickly up onto her shoulders. Frantically Landon thrusts his body around and escapes off the suited shoulders, and running off to the ropes. Annie turns smartly, launching herself into the air and catching the charging Maddix in the jaw with a picture perfect Dropkiss! Scurrying from the ring, Landon has a look of shock etched on his face, as Annie stands triumphantly in the ring soaking up the applause directed towards her. "Annie has got Landon on the rock at the moment...it's almost like she's one step ahead of the rookie at every turn!" The frustrated Landon is attended to by Megan, as in the ring Annie is not resting on her laurels...climbing the ropes in an attempt to start the ball rolling...literally. "Annie's going for the ball sack, whi...oh." Comet stops, realising what he's just said... "There's a first time for everything I guess." Reaching up for the bag of balls, Annie almost loses her balance as the bag is excruciatingly just out of reach. Meanwhile Landon has suddenly caught glimpse of Annie's position, and quickly scurries back into the ring...only for Megan to halt him by grabbing his boot, and roll something into the ring for him. Over on the turnbuckles Annie is trying to grab the bag, but can't seem to be able to...as meanwhile, Landon begins to stagger over, clutching the something Megan rolled in to him against his chest tightly. Making a snap decision, the Queen Of Hardcore abandons the bag, deciding to dive past it and aim a double axehandle at Maddix. La Cucaracha is waiting though... ...sidestepping Annie, and catching her in the gut with a singapore cane! Annie doubles over from the pain, as Maddix quickly raises the cane high above his head... CRAAACK!!! ...and brings it down HARD across Annie's back! "Things are getting hardcore right now! And this is right up Annie's street." comments Riley. "Pity she's lying flat on her face." Landon turns to the crowd, holding his hands to the side in a mocking gesture as the crowd boo him...with AUTHORITAAA!!! Trying to grit her teeth through the pain Annie hauls herself up again, catching Maddix's eye and causing him to wield the cane again. However, the now alert Annie is already one step ahead, firing a vicious kick to the gut. An equally decapacitating kick to the sternum follows, with the force enough to cause Landon to drop the cane. Ms. Onita gratefully scoops the wooden weapon from the mat, greeting it like an old friend with a smile that seems to say..."you're dead Landon." "RAAAAAHHH!!!" The crowd erupt again, as Maddix's eyes burst wide open in pure, unadulterated fear. Dropping to his knees Landon looks to beg off, but Annie decides not to allow Landon his break...instead firing another kick, again connecting across the sternum. With all the wind knocked out of him, Landon's head slumps forward...almost inviting Annie on... CRAAACK!!! "Singapore Cane to the back of the neck!!!" yells Comet. "Holy Ghost of Neptune...that may have broken young Citizen Maddix's neck!" The lifeless body of The Disciple slumps slowly forwards to the mat, as Annie raises the cane high into the air, as a trophy of war. The crowd respond with cheers and applause, as she clasps her other hand around the weapon... CRAAACK!!! ...driving it down across the back of Maddix's head for a second, skull shattering time. "Stop the pain!" whines Riley. "Somebody stop the pain." "Hardcore Rules Riley. And unfortunately for young Maddix, this is Annie's house!" Watching on in horror, Megan sees Annie raising the cane a third time, and covers her eyes... CRAAACK!!! ...as Annie ruthlessly continues her assault. The Disciple looks to be done for, Annie seeing the glazed over look in Maddix's eyes, and deciding to go back for the balls. She climbs up the turnbuckles, getting ever closer to the sack containing the balls...yes, we've already done that joke...and begins to reach outwards. Again, the bag has been placed just far enough way that reaching it is no easy task, meaning Onita is left desperately reaching forwards, while trying not to topple off the top rope. The time she takes on the top has given Maddix time to recover, and groggily begin to try regaining a vertical base...so, rather than struggle any longer, Annie hops down again and goes back towards her opponent. "Whoever placed that bag above the ring either made a miscalculation, or is having a grand old laugh here...because it's out of reach." "Whoever made this MATCH is probably having a 'grand old laugh' Cyclone." Allowing the young Maddix to get back to his feet, Annie again takes the cane in her hands and preares for Landon to turn around. Megan has scuttled across the ring to try and warn her charge of the impending danger, but can't get close to the ring because of a water filled pipe blocking her way, so Landon doesn't hear her. Oblivious, Maddix slowly begins to turn around, looking for Annie... SWOOOSSSHHH... The cane shot misses, as Landon ducks! The momentum pulls Annie around in a pirouette, and as she reaches the 360 degrees she recieves a quick boot to the gut from Landon. Locking on a front headscissors, the Disciple hooks both of his arms under Annie's body and raises her up the air for a powerbomb, which Onita begins to fight with forceful right hands to the top of Landon's head. The effects are swift, causing Landon to stagger about and eventually fall backwards...but that causes Annie to fall throat first across the top rope!!! "OH!" Cyclone exclaims. "Annie got stungunned across the top rope! A break for Maddix here." The Disciple is first to his feet, looking up at the ball bag and down at Annie quickly...before turning to Megan, and shouting for her to do something. She can hardly hear over the rampantly booing crowd, so Landon has to repeat himself before The Toddess finally udnerstands him. Quickly she scuttles herself around the ring to the only un-blocked part of the ring apron, bends down and begins to rummage under the ring. Meanwhile Maddix walks over to Annie and drives the fla of his boot repeatedly across the chest and neck area...until Megan slides in... ...A LADDER!!! "Oh...MY!!!" yells Riley. "Well, we all know that Citizeness Onita can take heavy amounts of punishment. But, not too many people can take the force a metal ladder can provide and keep fighting." "Are you stupid Cyclone?" snaps Riley. "He doesn't want the ladder to hit Annie with. He wants it to get the balls." "Well, if you are indeed right Bobbo, then that is smart strategy." Picking the metal implement up from the mat, Landon hurriedly sets it up near the corner, indeed looking to go after the balls. Placing his foot on the first step, the other soon follows as La Cucaracha begins to scurry up the ladder and towards the bag...but Annie is up behind him. He doesn't know it however, busy trying to reach inside of the bag and retrieve a ball. Quick as she possibly can, Annie grabs the singapore cane... CRAAACK! CRAAACK! CRAAACK! Three hard shots connect to the kidney area of The Disciple, stopping him in his tracks. With Landon now suitably hurt, Onita fires a quick jab to the ribs for good measure, before moving around the side of the ladder, and beginning to climb up on the otherside! The crowd rise to their feet in anticipation, as Annie soon reaches Landon's level of the ladder. Just as she does, Maddix swings and connects with a weakened right hand...Annie retaliating in kind. Again a fist connects with Annie's jaw, again the Hardcore Queen swinging back with one of her own. Both athletes are left hanging precariously by one foot, the punches having taken their toll. "This is a very...very dangerous situation here Bobbo." "Indeed it is Comet. If Landon can just shove Annie in the chest, she'll be crashing through those pipes on the floor!" First to swing this time is Maddix, but he's cut off by a quicker jab by Annie, almost sending him flying backwards off the ladder. He somehow keeps his footing though, before grabbing a handful of Annie's hair! The fiesty Japanese vixen starts to try and claw at Landon's face to escape, as he tries to tug her black hair out from the roots. Suddenly Onita is within fingernail's reach of Landon's eyes, so The Disciple quickly pushes her to the side... CRRRAAASSSHHH!!! ...Annie flying off the ladder, and landing beside it on the mat, in a crumpled mess!!! "OOOHHHHHH!!!" The crowd gasp in shock at the fall from Onita, as Maddix now has clear run towards the bag. However, it seems something has come over him...as rather than go straight for the bag, he is now looking down on Annie's prone body. With a couple more steps, Landon moves up the next two rungs so that he has one foot on either side of the top of the ladder, sitting across the top as all around him the crowd are suddenly on their feet again. "Oh...no. He's not going to do this is he Comet?" "It certainly looks like he's considering it!" "Don't do it Landon! It's not worth the risk!" Very precariously Landon begins to stand upright, trying to block out the height that he sees beneath him and steady himself. The crowd are on the edge of their seats...or off them, and up on their feet. Annie isn't moving a muscle, as Landon's 'cockiness control' kicks in...with a wag of the finger and shake of the head, Landon turns around slowly, so he's facing away from Annie. "Oh, thank Todd!" Riley gasps in relief. "I really thought he was going to do it..." "Bobbo...he's not going for the bag..." Indeed, Landon isn't...instead, his arms are outstretched in the air. A slight wobble of the ladder sends a murmur of excitement through the New Orleans crowd, but Landon keeps his footing...and suddenly, falls back... ...WITH A MOONSAULT OFF THE LADDER!!! "HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!!!" "Good Godd...I mean Good Todd...I mean...OH MY GOD!!!" Riley stutters in shock. "LANDON MADDIX WITH A MOONSAULT OFF THE LADDER!!!" The crowd are on their feet, cheering wildly in their disbelief at what they have just seen. Both Annie and Landon lay on the mat clutching at their ribs in immense pain, as Megan Skye rolls into the ring and crawls across to check on Landon's condition. Allison meanwhile looks on with worry etched all over her face, as Annie is hurting too. Nick Soapdish rolls into the ring and begins to order Megan out of the ring, before checking on the two combatants himself, both of whom and hurtin’ for certain’. “Can you believe that Bobby Riley? Can you believe that picture perfect moonsault from off the top of the ladder?” “Un…freaking…believable Cyclone!” Riley, still in shock, just about manages to reply. “This crowd nearly blew the damn roof o…good god Bobby, they’re both getting up!” Slowly, Landon is beginning to stir…as Annie too is conscious, but not able to get back up. Despite the weakened condition of his body, the determined Maddix manages to drag his limp frame over towards the ladder, and place his hands upon the lower rungs of the metal implement. With all the power he can muster, Maddix hauls himself onto his jelly-like legs, and starts the climb up the ladder… …but suddenly stops, as out of the corner of his eye he sees Annie Onita shrugging referee Soapdish away, and trying to get back to her feet. Unable to believe that Annie’s still fighting, The Disciple stops dead like a doomed woman in a horror movie…unable to hide his complete shock. Dropping down from ladder he stumbles over towards Annie…and gets a right hand to the gut! “RAAAAAHHH!!!” The crowd explode into elation as they see their Hardcore Queen fighting back. Another stiff right connects to the gut, but before an imminent third can hit it’s target, Maddix drives his knee forwards and catches Onita HARD in the gut. As Annie doubles over, Landon quickly flings her arm over his shoulder, hooking a hold of her suit pants and popping his hips in a sudden explosion of offense, taking Annie over with him, and drilling her with an Exploder Suplex! “Somehow these two Citizens…Todd Royal’s rookie Disciple, and the veteran Queen Of Hardcore…somehow, these two are up and fighting.” “But they’re both weary Cyclone. You can see it from the body language. They’re both nearly out on their feet.” A rather bored looking Mr. Bukkake watches on from his stationary treadmill, waiting for his chance to shine… …as in the ring, Landon has Annie down on the mat. Knowing a submission will not win him the match, Landon decides instead to leap into the air, and with a full 360 degree twist land an extravagant legdrop. Annie holds the throat, as Maddix rolls away from her fallen body and clambers back up…holding his hands out again, which brings a fresh wave of jeers and boos his way. “How can these ungrateful slobs boo a man like Landon Maddix, Cyclone? It shocks me that these people have so much dis-respect!” “Well…he’s shown them no respect. Why should these great Citizens be the only ones with any respect?” “Good point. Looking at their clothing, they obviously have no self respect…no wonder they have no respect for Landon?” “That’s not what I meant Bobbo.” Again Annie decides to go on guts rather than brains, and haul herself back up. Whilst she’s doing so however, Landon has called for something else…this time, a chair is delivered to him by Waitress Skye. Picking up the chair, a sick smile emerges on The Disciple’s face, seeing the un-guarded Annie on her last legs. Raising the chair in the air, Landon walks forward…and usually, Annie would fight back. However, her guard is down, allowing Landon to swing down with the chair… SSSMAAACK!!! …it connects…BUT ANNIE IS STILL UP!!! “WOW!” Cyclone exclaims, as the crowd is ROARING it’s collective heads off. “Annie didn’t go down!” “My god…she’s a cyborg! She’s not human Comet. I swear, she’s not human!” As Annie stands tall in front of him, Landon’s look of shock has returned. Again he grabs a hold of the chair and brings it up above his head… SSSMAAACK!!! …and down across Annie’s… …BUT SHE’S STILL UP!!! “RAAAAAHHH!!!” By now, Landon is suddenly wondering what the heck it’s going to take to put Annie down. Two chair shots, and despite the slightly glazed over look in Ichiban’s eyes, she’s still standing. With no other alternative, Landon raises the chair again, and with all the force he can find in his body, he slams the chair downwards… SSSMAAAAACCCKKK!!! …with an ungodly amount of force… …and Annie is FINALLY down! “Annie’s down…but it took THREE vile chair shots to do it!” yells Comet. “But the main thing is she’s down. Now Landon just needs to put the boots to her!” “You really are an uncaring individual aren’t you?” “Hey…controversy pays the bills buddy.” Celebrating this accomplishment as if he’s just one the World Title, Maddix throws the chair over his head and shouts out in delight, as Annie is finally left laying on the mat. But…not for long, as the Queen of Hardcore is already planning her next comeback. With an air of frustration emanating from his body, Maddix yells out “Now you’re gonna see it!” towards the crowd, before helping Annie up on her last steps. Two shrift, sharp knee drives are smashed forwards into Annie’s midriff, before Landon hits a European uppercut to back Onita to the ropes. Hurriedly Landon grabs onto Annie’s left wrist and shoots her off to the ropes, backing off the ropes himself. Both Landon and Annie seem set for a head on collision, before Landon swings his arm out at the last second, with a I MAY BE SMALL, I MAY BE WEAK, BUT I JUST TOOK YOUR HEAD OFF YOU PSYCHOTIC LESBIAN FREAK, NOW LET’S GET THIS BALL ROLLING LARIATOOOOOOOOOOO~! “BOOOOO!!!” “HA HA!!! Lariato by Maddix! Lariato by Maddix!” Riley squeals like a schoolgirl. With Annie down, Maddix now scurries over to the ladder, beginning his slow climb as above him hangs the bag of balls. With every rung he advances to Landon takes a glance down at Annie to check on her position…but, she only begins to start moving as Landon reaches the summit of the ladder, and begins to reach into the bag. After a second or so of rummaging around, Landon pulls upwards from out of the bag… …clutching a bowling ball! “Oh yeah!” Riley shouts, for no particular reason. Landon rapidly descends from down the ladder, and shoves the metal object out of the way to the mat. Now clutching a bowling ball, Landon places it across the top of the pipe… ..but Annie’s up behind him from nowhere, spinning him around…and nailing a superkick! The bowling ball goes flying, narrowly missing Landon’s toe as it slams into the mat. Annie now has possession of the ladder however, folding it up quickly…and throwing it forward, causing it to SMACK into Landon’s face! He crumbles down in the corner, as meanwhile Annie grabs the ladder, throwing it out of the way…and stopping? “IT – CHI – BAN! “IT – CHI – BAN! “IT – CHI – BAN!” The crowd ring out with their chants, as Annie pulls the bowling ball from the mat. However, she has other plans than to set off the cage. She, instead backs up across the ring…as Landon is spread eagled. Annie knows what’s coming, the crowd knows what’s coming, the despairing Megan knows what’s coming as does the eager for genital destruction Allison…even Landon knows, but he’s out of it… …Annie rolls the ball forward… INTO LANDON’S GROIN!!! “OOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!!!” “Ooooh. That is every man’s worst nightmare!” winces Riley “Even yours?” “Even mi…HEY, shut up you spandex wearing freak!” “I could very well say the same thing to you.” With Landon’s nether regions officially crushed, Annie now has to set off the cage. She knows it, as she hurriedly picks the ball up…taking the time to sneer into the watering eyes of Maddix…before taking the ball, and dropping it down the pipe. “The contraption is set off. Here we go!” The ball rolls down the pipe, rattling it’s way across slowly onto the more level part, as Bukkake stands and waits eagerly. This is his chance to shine! The ball rolls on…and on…before clipping the on button, causing the treadmill to snap into life. “Bukkake is off! Man, look at him go!” “Yeah I’ve heard stories about him being very ‘quick’.” “I…err…don’t particularly want to know about that area of Citizen Bukkake’s private life.” “Citizen Bukkake? How can you say that with a straight face?” As the treadmill begins to pick up speed, Bukkake is already sweating… …back in the ring,. Annie is pulling Landon into the centre of the ring and positioning him underneath the cage. Quickly hitting a boot, Annie locks on the front headscissors…and drops Landon down with the Daybreak Pedigree, which is surely all she wrote! …but Bukkake is still running. He thinks this is his moment in the spotlight obviously, not wanting to losing his footing and take his skateboard ride. Allison watches on impatiently as Bukkake is now smiling! So, taking matter into her own hands, Allison walks over to the jogging Bukkake. He blows her a kiss, so she does what she knows is best…slaps the taste out of Bukkake’s mouth!!! Bukkake stumbles back, falling off the treadmill and landing on the skateboard…showing off his l33t sk8ter sk11lls, as he rocks forward…and turns on the fan! The crowd seem to be very excited about this low budget sequence, the fan blowing a toy boat across the water pipe, which goes under the ring. Back in the ring, Annie watching all this intently, not seeing Landon getting up behind her! Landon grabs Annie in a waistlock, as the boat goes under the ring…and now, it’s a race against time. Annie fires elbow after elbow into the jaw of Landon, rocking him back each time, but each time getting locked back into the waistlock. Eventually Annie gets herself free, and fires some right hands… …until Landon grabs her top!!! The boat comes back out from under the ring, as the fight goes on underneath the cage’s landing point…Landon trying to tear Annie’s top of, which is getting the males in the audience quite flustered. Meanwhile, the boat is about to drop… …and it does, pulling the weight up… …causing the cage to lower… …MADDIX BREAKS AWAY… …AND THE CAGE LOWERS… …DOWN ACROSS ANNIE!!! “DAMN IT!” Cyclone yells, as the bell is rung swiftly. “He did it…he tried pulling Annie’s damn top off, and that’s what distracted her.” “Who cares! Landon wins…” “Yeah, well…if you can call it that.” “I’ll call it what I want.” Annie, now realizing she’s trapped in the cage, curses her luck as Landon glares at her through the cage bars with a gleeful look on his face. “Here is your winner…LAAANDOOON ‘LA CUCARACHA’…MAAADDIIIX!!!” “Damn it…Landon wins. And we’ve got to go to a break while all this gets cleared up…but…we’ll be right back.” The scene fades, as Landon stands just out of Annie’s reach…the smug look still etched on his face, as we go to commercial…

FADE IN The camera quickly pans from the stage, where Todd’s Angels are assembling stage right, to the announce table, where Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley are watching them in bewildered amusement. “Well, ladies and gentlemen,” says Comet, “as you can see, Todd Royal’s congregation of ‘Angels is assembling just to the right of the SmarkTron, and that can only mean one thing!” “That’s right,” adds Riley enthusiastically. “I’ve been waiting weeks for this match to happen, and now it’s finally here! Todd Royal is going to bring glory to himself and the Unnamed when he wins the Cruiserweight Title here tonight!” “This will be Wildchild’s third title defense in four weeks,” says Comet, “and I have to admit, Robert, that you’re not the only person who thinks that Citizen Royal has a chance to pull off a major upset here tonight!” “You’re Todd Damn right,” replies Riley. “There’s no way that Todd leaves this arena without the Cruiserweight Title. I had a chance to speak with Todd before the match tonight, and he said that he went over Wildchild’s title defense against Landon Maddix with a fine-tooth comb. Believe me, Landon’s failures will only help Todd to triumph, and Maddix wouldn’t have it any other way!” “I give Todd Royal all the credit in the world,” concedes Comet. “He’s a premier athlete, and a superstar in the making, but it sounds to me as though you’re selling the champion short!” “Not at all,” answers Riley. “There’s no secret that I’m not a fan of Wildchild or his style, but I acknowledge the fact that he’s been one of the top superstars in the SWF for the past year or so; in fact, in recent history, only Ejiro Fasaki has had a better rookie year than Wildchild… but that’s what’s going to make this victory by Todd Royal so sweet! 2004 will be the year of Todd Royal, and he’s going to make a name for himself by defeating one of the bigger stars in the business today!” “Well, Todd Royal is going to need all of his cunning, and possibly some help from his loyal disciple Megan Skye, in order to take the Cruiserweight Title away from Wildchild. In order to find out if he can, let’s go to the ring, and our favorite announcer!” The lights in the New Orleans arena dim as Funyon steps between the ropes to enter the ring. Back upon the stage, Todd’s Angels sing a brief hymn as a solitary spotlight focuses on the backstage entrance: Todd can do anything, anything, anything, Todd can do anything but fail. He can save, He can keep, He can cleanse and He will, Todd can do anything but fail. He's the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, He's the fairest of ten thousand to my soul. Todd can do anything, anything, anything, Todd can do anything but fail! As the choir concludes their musical worship of their chosen Savior, the brash sound of AC/DC’s “Shoot to Thrill” begins to bleed through the PA system. The New Orleans fans begin to boo in earnest as the challenger and self-proclaimed Messiah Todd Royal steps out from behind the curtain, accompanied as always, by Megan Skye. “Ladies and gentleman,” says Funyon, as Royal poses haughtily at the head of the ramp, “the following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the SWF Cruiserweight Championship! Making his way to the ring at this time, being accompanied by the ‘Toddess’ Megan Skye, and representing the Unnamed, is the challenger! From San Diego, California, weighing two hundred twenty pounds, TOOOOOD ROYAAAAAAL!” Royal makes his way regally down the ramp, dressed for the evening’s activity in black trunks with an uncharacteristic royal purple trim. “Todd Royal looks to be in great shape for this match,” marvels Riley. “You can tell that he’s prepared!” “He’d better be,” replies Comet. “The Unnamed have been in a little bit of a slump lately, ever since they fired Charlie Matthews, in fact!” “Mere coincidence,” dismisses Riley. “The Unnamed will definitely break out of their slump tonight, and Todd Royal is guaranteed to leave New Orleans tonight with some gold; I stake my reputation on it!” “Well, I hope for your sake that Todd Royal didn’t hear you just now,” jokes Comet. Todd’s Angels exit the stage and the arena lights are restored as Todd and Megan finally reach the ringside area, after a slow, leisurely walk down the ramp. They proceed up the steel steps to the ring apron, and Megan holds the ring open for Todd to enter the ring, and the Messiah reciprocates, holding the ropes down for his Toddess. Todd stalks across the ring and demands the microphone from Funyon, who grudgingly capitulates. “And Todd said, ‘let there be Gold,’” Royal shouts into the microphone, as his music fades out, “and there was Gold. And Todd saw that the Gold was good. And He declared that the Gold would be His… and it was so!” Todd pauses from his pontification to allow the crowd to boo him, and they oblige in earnest. “As you may have noticed, there is a slight variation in My ring attire tonight… Not that any of you Toddless heathens in New Orleans would know, but tonight is Ash Wednesday. I honestly don’t expect any of you soulless pagans to understand the significance of this night…” RO-YAL SUCKS! RO-YAL SUCKS! RO-YAL SUCKS! RO-YAL SUCKS! “… But fear not,” continues Todd, as Megan looks on in the background, a completely stoic look on her face. “For I, the Lord Todd, will offer you all a chance at salvation… I will wash all of your sins away tonight with the blood of Wildchild, and all you shall have to do is accept Me in your heart as your Lord and Savior.” “This kid is crazy,” exclaims Comet. “He’s delusional! This is a David Koresh situation!” “Be quiet,” admonishes Riley, he head bowed reverently. “Show some respect for the Lord Todd!” “Wildchild,” finishes Royal, “Tonight, you shall atone for the sins of all of these heathens in the crowd tonight. In consideration of Lent, I have already decided what you shall have to give up: your Cruiserweight Title! So, bring your Caribbean ass out here and repent! Allow yourself to be purified in this ring, for only then can you seek salvation through the Divine Forgiveness of Todd!” With that, Todd hands the microphone back to Funyon as the arena goes dark yet again, but this time, the crowd becomes jubilant as they realize that the darkness heralds the arrival of the Cruiserweight Champion! ATTENTION! ALL YOU NIGGAZ! ALL YOU BITCHES! TIME TO PUT DOWN THE CRISTAL, TIME TO TAKE OFF THE ICE FOR A MINUTE… TIME TO THROW A LITTLE MUD IN THIS MOTHERFUCKA… The New Orleans crowd jumps out of their seats as Wildchild pops out from behind the curtain, bobbing up and down in time with the beat of Redman’s “Let’s Get Dirty.” “His opponent,” continues Funyon, “hails from the Bahamas and weighs two hundred fourteen pounds! He is the reigning and DEFENDING SWF Cruiserweight Champion! He is… the WIIIILDCHIIIIILD!” Wildchild runs down the ramp, slapping hands with the fans at ringside before somersaulting between the bottom and middle ropes to enter the ring. Rolling gracefully to his feet, Wildchild turns towards Royal, who stands calmly in the corner as Megan removes his jacket. Unbuckling the Cruiserweight Title belt from his waist, Wildchild holds it just out of arm’s reach of the challenger, a defiant look on his face, as if to say, “never gonna get it!” The Bahama Bomber walks across the ring and leaps onto the middle rope, holding the belt overhead as Redman shouts: “I CAN’T GET IN DA CLUUUUUB!” WHACK! THUD! … But, unseen by Wildchild, the challenger decides to take an aggressive stance in this match, running up behind the Champion and nailing him in the back with a running dropkick that sends him tumbling over the top rope and down hard to the arena floor! “Dropkick,” shouts Comet, as the lights are immediately brought back on, and Wildchild’s music is abruptly cut out. “Todd Royal sneaking up behind Wildchild like a thief in the night!” “Of course he did,” answers Riley, as Wildchild pulls himself to his feet outside the ring. “For it is written in the Book of Todd that he will return like a thief in the night, and it is so!” Comet glances askew at Riley, shaking his head as Todd walks over to the edge of the ring and grabs onto the top rope with both hands. The Messiah propels himself over the top rope and out to the arena floor… CRASH! … Smashing into the Tropical Tumbler with a devastating plancha! “Tremendous Plancha by Todd,” sings Riley, as Royal straddles the prone Cruiserweight Champion and begins to batter him with a rapid-fire series of right hands! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! The Messiah stands up and pulls Wildchild to his feet, only to grab him by the hair and lead him towards the corner of the ring… CLANG! … And slams him headfirst into the steel stairs! “What a brutal attack by Todd Royal,” moans Comet. “Why isn’t the referee doing anything?” “Like what,” asks Riley. “The match hasn’t officially started yet. He’s got to wait for both of them to be in the ring at the same time!” WHACK! Royal grabs Wildchild by the hair again and leads him over to the ring apron, before slamming his face against the edge of the ring. He then rolls the Champion underneath the bottom rope and climbs onto the ring apron, finally allowing referee Eddy Long to order the timekeeper to officially start the match. DING! DING! DING! “Finally,” says Comet. “The match is now officially underway, but Todd Royal has given himself a tremendous advantage by initiating that sneak attack!” Todd Royal turns out to face the fans, boasting his superior intelligence as Wildchild attempts to recover behind him. Megan jumps up and down, cheering Todd on enthusiastically, but not enough to drown out the screams of nineteen thousand fans: RO-YAL SUCKS! RO-YAL SUCKS! RO-YAL SUCKS! RO-YAL SUCKS! “Can you believe these people,” Riley asks incredulously. “Todd is fighting to cleanse them of their sins, and this is how they repay him? They aren’t worthy of Todd’s forgiveness!” So preoccupied is Todd with the fans that he fails to recognize Wildchild getting back to his feet behind him and race past him in a blur, leaping onto the top rope… WHACK! … And curling into a ball as he springs off of the top rope, blasting Todd in the chest with his patented Pinball attack! “Royal spent too much time jawing with the crowd,” reports Comet, “allowing Wildchild to hit him with that Pinball attack!” Wildchild runs over to Royal and pulls him to his feet, grabbing him by the wrist as he whips him towards the edge of the ring, but the Messiah easily reverses. Todd scoops the Champion into his arms as he bounces off the ropes, but the Human Hurricane continues to swing his lower body upwards, locking his legs around the challenger’s neck… WHAM! … And turning a tilt-a-whirl slam attempt into a breathtaking headscissor takeover! Todd rolls immediately back to his feet, but as he charges towards Wildchild, the Bahama Bomber locks his arm underneath that of the challenger and pops his hips, flipping Royal through the air with a hiptoss! “Beautiful hiptoss,” shouts Comet, “followed by a dropkick! Wildchild’s got the challenger reeling!” Wildchild waits for Todd to get back to his feet before charging towards him, leaping into the off the canvas and swinging his leg through the air sharply… WHAM! … Blasting the Messiah with a leg lariat that sends him tumbling through the ropes and out to the arena floor! Eddy Long begins a twenty-count on Royal and Wildchild pops back to his feet as the fans applaud his performance. ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! CRASH! Wildchild races across the ring, bouncing off the ropes as the referee delivers his count on Todd Royal, and bounces off the ropes with near-blinding speed, flipping over the top rope and out of the ring, crashing into the challenger on the arena floor with a spectacular tope con hilo! “Unbelievable somersault plancha by the Champion,” marvels Comet, as Wildchild hammers Todd with a flurry of hard rights. “And look at him go to work; a little righteous payback for that earlier attack by Royal!” “Blasphemer,” shouts Riley. “There’s only one righteous person involved in this match, and it Todd Damn sure isn’t Wildchild!” Wildchild pulls Royal to his feet and traps him in a front facelock, grabbing the challenger’s leg with his free hand before quickly lifting him into the air, spinning around… WHAM! … And driving Todd into the solid steel ramp with a Corkscrew Suplex! ELEVEN! TWELVE! THIRTEEN! Cognizant of the referee’s count, Wildchild walks over towards the edge of the ring and slides under the bottom rope. As Long resets his count, the Caribbean Cruiser picks himself up and walks over to the corner, climbing up to the top turnbuckle. ONE! TWO! “What do you suppose Wildchild is about to do,” Comet wonders aloud. FOUR! FIVE! “Something stupid, no doubt,” answers Riley. SEVEN! EIGHT! WHAAM! As the referee continues his count, the Human Hurricane flings himself recklessly off the top turnbuckle, flipping backwards as he drops fifteen feet down to the arena floor, crashing into Todd with a death-defying moonsault! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! “By Zeus,” shrieks Comet. “What a TREMENDOUS moonsault by Wildchild!” But, as the cameraman focuses on the wreckage out at ringside, Wildchild is seen howling in pain as grips his right knee. SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT! “Oh no,” moans Comet. “Wildchild appears to be holding his knee! Do you think that he might have banged it against the ramp when he hit that moonsault?” “It wouldn’t surprise me in the least,” replies Riley. “And it just goes to show that this kid has rocks in his head! How stupid do you have to be to try a move that risky in a title match when you already have the advantage?” “Wildchild is so comfortable flying from the top rope that it probably didn’t seem like a risky maneuver to him, Robert,” says Comet, as Wildchild rolls over onto his posterior, still holding his knee. “It’s not like him going to the top is the same as seeing Va’aiga or Charlie Matthews up there!” ELEVEN! TWELVE! “Maybe not,” counters Riley, “but if he’s not able to shake off that pain in his knee, his so-called comfort on the top rope is going to cost him his title!” FIFTEEN! SIXTEEN! Wildchild stands up, limping slightly on his right leg, and pulls Todd to his feet as well, leading him over to the edge of the ring and rolling him underneath the bottom rope. The Tropical Tumbler uses the ropes to pull himself onto the ring apron as referee Long stops his count. Pulling himself to his feet, he grasps onto the top rope before using it to propel himself into the ring… SPLASH! … Twisting around in midair as he crashes into Todd with a springboard body press! Wildchild cringes as he lands on top of the challenger, having apparently banged his knee again upon impact, but he tries to ignore the pain as he hooks the outside leg. Long drops down to the mat to deliver the three count: ONE! TWO! THRE— “No,” shouts Riley. “He got His hand on the bottom rope! Thank Todd!” Wildchild looks up at the referee in frustration, but Long coolly points towards the bottom rope, pantomiming the challenger’s activity. Undaunted, the Bahama Bomber stands up, still favoring his right leg as he pulls Todd to his feet. “That knee looks like it’s still bothering him,” worries Comet. “He’s hardly able to put any weight on it right now!” Todd stuns Wildchild with a kick to the knee and grabs him by the wrist, whipping him towards the edge of the ring, but the Caribbean Cruiser spins around on his left heel and reverses the whip attempt, sending Royal into the ropes instead. He leaps into the air to leapfrog the challenger as he rebounds… … But lands awkwardly, hobbling around as he holds onto his right knee. Todd comes to a stop behind him and becomes aware of the situation. Like a shark that smells blood in the water, the Messiah kicks at the back of Wildchild’s knee, causing him to fall helplessly to the canvas! Grabbing him immediately by the right heel, Todd raises Wildchild’s foot several feet off of the canvas… BAM! … Only to drop down, jamming the point of his elbow into Wildchild’s sore knee! He continues to lean against the Champion’s knee as he pulls up on the heel in an attempt to hyper-extend the knee. “Ha,” snorts Riley as the Tropical Tumbler howls in pain. “He’s got him now! Now watch as Wildchild suffers the awesome Wrath of Todd!” Todd gets back to his feet and drags Wildchild over towards the edge of the ring, draping his leg across the bottom rope and then using the top rope to propel himself into the air… WHAM! … Before crashing down in a seated position on Wildchild’s knee! Megan applauds outside the ring as Todd pulls himself back to his feet and drags the Bahama Bomber over to the corner. “Superb technical wrestling by Todd Royal,” gushes Riley. “Wildchild’s idiotic top rope moves put him in a vulnerable position, and it’s nothing at all to a mat tactician like Todd Royal to capitalize on it!” Todd positions Wildchild in the corner so that his legs are dangling outside, and then walks back towards the center of the ring, distracting Eddy Long as Megan Skye sneaks over towards the Cruiserweight Champion. “Pay attention, referee,” shouts Comet. “Look out for Megan Skye!” CRACK! Unseen by the referee, the Toddess grabs Wildchild by the leg and whips it hard against the ringpost, slamming his tender knee against the unforgiving solid steel! “This is unfair,” grumbles Comet. “It’s two against one out there!” “Hey,” answers Riley with a shrug, “it’s only cheating if you get caught; it must be Todd’s Will!” Wildchild drags himself away from the ringpost and pulls himself to his feet as the challenger turns his attention back towards him. Todd charges into the corner, and the Bahama Bomber surprises him by springing into the air to leapfrog him! The Messiah crashes chest-first into the turnbuckles, but Wildchild once again lands gingerly on his right leg and tries to limp away from the corner… SMACK! … But Royal recovers and quickly regains his advantage, storming out of the corner and clipping the Champion with a chop block! “Quick thinking on the part of the challenger,” says Riley. “Very smart to go back to that knee, and not even allow Wildchild the opportunity to fight his way back into this match!” Royal drags Wildchild back towards the center of the ring and rolls him onto his stomach before grabbing him by the ankle and lifting his leg high into the air… WHAM! … Only to jam his knee back into the canvas with a devastating Knee Cracker! “Todd is systematically dismantling Wildchild,” marvels Riley. “I told you, Comet; there’s no way that Todd Royal leaves New Orleans without the Cruiserweight Title!” Continuing to press his advantage, the Messiah straddles Wildchild, facing his lower body, and then bends down to grab him by the right ankle. Wrapping his arms around the Champion’s leg just below the knee, Todd leans back, applying pressure to both the knee and the back with a single-leg Boston Crab! “It’s the beginning of the end,” crows Riley. “Todd has Wildchild right where he wants him; he’ll probably get a submission right here!” Wildchild’s eyes are wide with pain as Royal cranks back fiercely on the half-crab. Referee Long drops to a knee, asking Wildchild if he wants to give up, and the Bahama Bomber vehemently refuses as Megan bounces back and forth taunting him outside the ring. LET’S GO WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET’S GO WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET’S GO WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET’S GO WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* The Tropical Tumbler pushes up against the canvas with his hands as he fights desperately to escape the half-crab. “Come on, kid,” mumbles Comet. “You can do it, I know you can!” “No way,” laughs Riley. “Wildchild’s a flier, not a wrestler! Even if he manages to get out of this move, which he won’t, what’s he going to do then? His knee has got to be shredded wheat by now!” “Don’t count Wildchild out yet,” admonishes Comet. “He’s surprised many a superstar here in the SWF who’s made the mistake of underestimating him!” “Oh please,” scoffs Riley. “He’s not going to be able to fly around that ring, and that effectively takes away ninety-nine percent of his offense! He’s not going to be able to get Todd up for the Wild Ride, and he’s not going to be able to jump high enough to hit the Falling Star Press, so how’s he going to win?” Even though it places even more pressure on his back, Wildchild pushes up against the canvas in a desperate attempt to relieve the pressure on his knee. The New Orleans fans cheer him on as he tries to hand-walk towards the edge of the ring: LET’S GO WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET’S GO WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET’S GO WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET’S GO WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* “You’re almost there, Wildchild,” shouts Comet encouragingly. “Only two more feet!” The cheers of the crowd become exponentially louder, and Todd finds himself fighting both their energy and Wildchild, as the Cruiserweight Champion continues to force him backwards towards the ropes. He yells out behind him to his Toddess as he notices the ropes rapidly approaching. “Yes,” cries Comet. “You’re right there! Just reach out and grab the rope!” Straining for all he’s worth, Wildchild lurches out towards the edge of the ring to grab onto the bottom rope and sweet relief, but just as his fingertips are almost on it, Megan Skye leaps onto the ring apron and grabs onto the bottom rope, pulling it away from the ring with all the strength that she has, preventing Wildchild from being able to reach it. Now, longer able to maintain his precarious balance, Wildchild pitches forward, and the Messiah capitalizes immediately on the sudden change in pressure, pulling the Tropical Tumbler back towards the middle of the ring! The crowd lets out a collective gasp, apparently deflated by Wildchild’s failed escape attempt. “What did I tell you,” exclaims Riley, as Eddy Long runs over to the edge of the ring to admonish Megan for her interference. “It’s Todd’s Will that Wildchild lose the title tonight!” As the referee’s attention is focused on the Toddess, Wildchild pushes against the mat in a final, desperate attempt to free himself, and this time the crowd erupts as he succeeds in wriggling out of the half-crab and getting back to an upright position. He bounces around on his left foot as Todd maintains control of his right, and then suddenly springs into action, leaping off the mat and swinging his left leg towards Royal’s head to deliver an enzugiri, a maneuver that the Messiah instantly recognizes and easily ducks to evade. SMACK! … But the Human Hurricane explodes back off the mat the second his leg comes into contact, whipping his leg at the head of the challenger from the opposite direction, and this time finding his target! Nineteen thousand fans leap to their feet as both men fall to the canvas, and Eddy Long turns his attention back towards the ring just in time to find both men laid out. “Big time maneuver by the Cruiserweight Champion,” sighs Comet. “But does he have enough left to pull out a win?” Wildchild drags himself over to the corner and uses the ropes to pull himself to his feet as Todd Royal scrambles to his feet and rushes towards the corner to nail the Champion with a running knee lift, but Wildchild manages to step out of the way at the last second, as Todd crashes into the turnbuckle pad! WHAM! As Todd staggers out of the corner, Wildchild sneaks behind him and pulls himself onto the middle turnbuckle, leaping off and grabbing Royal by the head as he flips forward, slamming him face-first into the canvas with a flipping neck snap! “Whiplash,” shouts Comet, as both men roll over onto their backs motionless. “Whiplash from the second turnbuckle!” “This can’t be happening,” groans Riley. “Riley has to win; it’s written in the Book of Todd!” Megan slams her fists against the ring apron out of frustration, and the fans begin to chant again as Long administers a ten count: ONE! TWO! “Wildchild’s taken a tremendous amount of punishment to the knee,” says Comet, “but Todd Royal hasn’t gotten through this match unscathed; the next person to hit a big move will likely win the match!” FOUR! FIVE! LET’S GO WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET’S GO WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET’S GO WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET’S GO WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* EIGHT! NINE! Both Todd and Wildchild manage to roll onto their knees as Eddy Long reaches his nine-count, and begin to exchange punches as they fight their way back to their feet: BAP! BAM! BAP! BAM! BAP! BAM! BAP! BAP! BAP! Wildchild gets the better of the exchange and grabs Royal by the wrist, whipping him towards the corner… WHAM! … But the Messiah spins around to reverse the whip attempt and wraps his arm around Wildchild’s head as he pulls the Champion towards him, lacing their legs together as he falls backwards, slamming Wildchild into the canvas with a Russian Leg Sweep! “Beautiful Russian Leg Sweep,” applauds Riley, as Todd rolls onto his knees. “What do you have to say now, Comet?” “I have to admit,” concedes Comet, “that was a very alert maneuver by the challenger to… And here we go! He just gave the sign for the Wrath of Todd!” “Hallelujah,” exclaims Riley, as Todd bends down to pick up the Champion’s leg. “This is it; if he locks this, you’re looking at the new Cruiserweight Champion!” Todd spins around, twisting Wildchild’s leg around his own, and then bends down to pick up the Champion’s other leg to wrap him up in his patented Figure Four… … But the Bahama Bomber reaches up and grabs the Messiah by the head, pulling him towards the mat and into an inside cradle! “Small Package,” shouts Comet. “He’s got him!” The crowd explodes into cheers as they see Royal’s shoulders pinned to the mat, and begin chanting out the pinfall: ONE! TWO! THREE! But, unfortunately for Wildchild, Eddy Long hasn’t even counted to one, for the second he traps Todd’s shoulders against the mat, Megan leaps onto the ring apron to divert the official’s attention. The crowd’s cheers quickly turn into violent boos as the Toddess allows her man to continue on in the match! “Damn that jezebel,” growls Comet. “Wildchild had the match won! If not for her interference, this match would be over!” “Well, you know what they say,” answers Riley with mock sweetness, “if ‘ifs’ and ‘buts’ were candy and nuts, we would all have a Merry Christmas!” “What,” roars Comet. “Who the hell says that?” “Don’t you have any religion,” admonishes Riley. “It’s in chapter eleven, verse thirty-one of the Book of Todd!” Wildchild rolls over onto his knees and hobbles over to the edge of the ring, lunging towards Megan, but the Toddess drops back down to the arena floor, safely out of reach. As Wildchild glares out of the ring at Megan, the Messiah sneaks up behind him and hooks the inside of his leg, pulling him backwards towards the canvas into a rollup! ONE! TWO! THREE— NO! “By Zeus,” pants Comet. “I thought that Royal was going to steal the title there!” “Steal, nothing,” replies Riley. “That belt is rightfully his, don’t you understand? It’s the will of Todd, dammit!” Todd beats Wildchild to his feet and rushes towards him, his head lowered to deliver a spear… WHAM! … But the Bahama Bomber leaps straight into the air, extending his leg as Royal’s head passes underneath him, and lowers it onto the back of his neck, driving him face-first into the canvas! “Cutter,” exclaims Comet. “Caribbean Cutter! Todd never saw it coming!” Wildchild rolls the Messiah onto his back and hooks the leg as Long drops down to deliver the three count: ONE! TWO! THREE! DING! DING! DING! Nineteen thousand strong erupt as “Let’s Get Dirty” begins to pump through the speakers once more! Wildchild flops over onto his back, panting like a dog as Eddy Long raises his hand in victory. Funyon rises from his seat at ringside, delivering the Cruiserweight Title to the edge of the ring as he lifts the microphone to his lips. “Here is your winner,” he says, “and STIIIIIL SWF Cruiserweight Champion… the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!” “What did I tell you, Robert,” laughs Comet. “You can NEVER count out this young superstar! Don’t EVER underestimate the heart of a champion!” “Todd Dammit,” roars Riley. “I was so sure! I read it in the Book of Todd!” “It may very well be Todd’s Will to become the Cruiserweight Champion,” mocks Comet. “But not on this night! Wildchild delivers another gutsy performance as he retains the Cruiserweight Championship! Stick around, folks! We’ve still got more exciting SWF action to come!” Wildchild rolls onto his knees, clutching the Cruiserweight Championship close to his chest… As we: FADE OUT