Kaertos

Well, here's the thing about the price. I can't afford to pay the startup fees and production costs. I can float them for a little while until I get money from people, so I need to know how many were willing to buy and how much they'd pay. I can't really absorb any of the overhead, so I have to pass it along to the "customer" so to speak. Add in a little so we can actually put some cash into the fed, and there you go. Think of it as a donation to the cause, but you get a t-shirt for your trouble. Oh, I forgot to mention... obviously I will make them as cheap as possible. I'm just trying to determine if it is worth the trouble to get the project started.

Just a sneak preview here of the first part of 2004 and the PPV calendar. Thought the feud micro managers might like to see it... 2004 Pay-Per-View Calendar Clusterf*ck - 2-1-2004 From the Fire - 3-7-2004 Battleground - 4-25-2004 13th Hour - 6-13-2004 Ground Zero - 8-1-2004 Genesis V - 9-19-2004 Ashes to Ashes - 11-7-2004 XMas PPV - 12-19-2004 2004 Show Schedule SWF Lockdown 1-7-2004 SWF Smarkdown 1-12-2004 SWF Storm 1-16-2004 SWF Lockdown 1-21-2004 SWF Smarkdown 1-26-2004 SWF Clusterf*ck PPV 2-1-2004

If you are interested in a mock-up of the T-Shirt, follow this link and look at the top of the page. My Images Webpage. Again, look at the top. This is just a prototype shirt and it will come in any color I can get at my t-shirt supply place (most colors). The logo and lettering aren't just silkscreened or ironed on, it is custom embroidered. And, for an extra $5.00, you can get your name (either IRL or your wrestler's name, one or two words only I think) embroidered on the shirt, making it one of a kind. This can only happen if I have enough people interested to spread the start-up cost around a little. All proceeds will be set aside for SWF purposes like advertising, maintainance of the website, hosting, etc. Please vote soon. Thanks, Grand Slam

You know, this is a little off topic but I have to say it. Movie boards on a wrestling site are a unique expierience. If I went to say the chud board or the AICN forum and dropped terms like "major heel heat" I'm sure half of the people there would be like, "...the hell?" I'm not complaining really. I just thought it was an interesting observation. To try and get back on topic, I'm not sure cabbage understands the movies (or likes them for that matter). The ring is desireable because it, in effect, gives you power. Or, at least, that is what the ring tells you it will do. Poor Frodo, he has been listening to that insidious whispering for months now, and it gets louder and more persuesive the closer he gets to Mordor.

I hope they do not show Sauron actually. It will feel like a cop out to me. His body was destroyed way back when and now he can only manifest himself the way we have seen him, a giant eye wreathed in flames. If he gets the ring back, on the other hand...

If it is an actual, registered version of XP, just call Microsoft.

I was thinking about this yesterday and wondered if anyone here played the A.I. Internet "game" nicknamed "The Beast" a couple of years ago?

The motherboard will not have any effect on what is physically stored on your hard drive. I have upgraded m/b & processors several times without reloading windows 98. Just be patient and work through the changes windows wants to make. I would suggest backing up anything you want to keep though, in case the worst happens.

They talk about Arwen all the time in the book. She is Aragorn's motivation to do a lot of what he does. Easier to show that in the movie than just talk about it. I find this kind of funny actually. It's like people had to really dig for something to dislike in the movie, so they hit on the romantic subplot and went after poor Liv.

As a note, while reading the show this morning I noticed a ton of typos and grammatical errors in my promo. Thus I have edited it and added in a few things that I missed while finishing it up yesterday. Call it the promo "Special Edition".

As has been noted several times... I am 30. God I feel old...

I have done my duty... my donation is on the way Thothster.

Damn... this is a shame. I always thought Annie was far more talented than she was ever given credit for. Now she is gone and I am sad.

I gotta go with the werewolves, only because I am sick to death of the whole "vampires as a tragic / romantic archtype" thing. Perhaps I just can't see mass murderers in the same light as others.

SWF Smarkdown September 8, 2003 LIVE from the SOLD-OUT Ford Center in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma! All matches due by 7:00 PM Eastern Send to: Suicide King Opening Promo - Micheal Craven The last man standing out of the winner's bracket has some things on his mind. We'll give him a few minutes at the top of the show to tell us about them. Singles Match CIA v. Crow Both of these guys got bounced from the tourney early and are raring to get back on track for G4. Add in the fact that their respective tag teams are vying for a shot at the Tag Belts and this coud be an intense and action-packed opener! Rules - Standard singles match Word Limit - 3000 Send to - chirs3 No-DQ Singles Match "The Sinner" John Duran v. Annie Eclectic Having cleared up her contract despute that dropped her from the G4 Tourney, Annie is ready to get back in the swing of things. What better way than by facing the evil Duran. Apparently, King is a little annoyed at poor Ms. Eclectic... Rules - No disqualification. The ref is just there to count pinfalls and submissions. Match must end in the ring. Word Limit: 3500 Send to - Grand Slam Non-Title Challenge Match Mak "The Franchise" Francis v. Johnny "The Barracuda" Dangerous The same man who once had the kahones to challenge then World Champ Tom lesher to a match once again takes control of his own destiny. And after what he did to Thugg on Wednesday, King was more than happy to oblige. Tonight, Johnny tries to prove he belongs in the upper echelons of the SWF by taking on the reigning ICTV champion in a non-title match. Rules - Standard singles match Word Limit - 4000 Send to - Grand Slam Hardcore Title Match WildChild © v. Xcalibur WC was in danger of losing his title on a technicality so he asked for a title defense. King was more than happy to give him one and threw the new guy at him to make him happy. This one has potential boys and girls... Rules - Hardcore Match... you know what that means... Word Limit - 4500 Send to - Edwin MacPhisto Six Man Tag Match "The Superior One" Tom Flesher, Quiz & Show v. Dace Night, Va'aiga and The Boston Strangler On Storm, TBS defends his World Title against the former champ and #1 Contender Tom Flesher and it looks like the Unholy Trinity and Quiz Show are headed to a confrontation over the shiny tag belts. Mix these two ingredients together, bring to a boil and enjoy... Rules - Standard Six Man Tag Word Limit - 5000 Send to - Edwin MacPhisto G4 Tournament (Loser's Bracket) Semi-Final (Non-Title) "Judge Mental" William Hearford III v. Ejiro Fasaki Tag partners against each other. Justice v. Rule with a shot at the bracket final on the line. Two of the best in the Fed facing off in the main event. Boys and Girls, if I have to shill it more than that to get you excited, you ain't been paying attention. Rules - Standard singles match Word Limit - 5500 Send to - Suicide King

Well, this show was a clusterfuck, and not the good kind. I would like to point out that I have a job that requires me to get up at 6AM Eastern every weekday. That means, on show nights, I have been averaging 3 hours sleep. It will be about that this time. No more. Unless you guys, and I mean all of you guys, show me that you give a flying fuck, I'm done posting late at night. If I don't have everything at a reasonable hour, the show goes up at my leisure on Thursday. This is bullshit. Tonight, I stayed up late waiting for a match that never came, a match that had three people that were supposed to write it. A match that has gone down in the books as a triple no-show. So much for the tournament generating interest and enthusiasm. I can;t tell you how unbelieveable pissed I am about this. Add in that, as far as I know, two other matches were actually contested, and you can see why. The number of no-shows was frankly staggering. It makes me wonder why I do all of the work I do for this place if nobody but CC gives a crap. Yes, I know this is horribly unfair, and that a lot of you do care about your characters and the fed. But the ones that don;t are dragging you down with them. God knows I no-showed on occassion. It happens, but I always made sure my opponent was submitting a match. If not, or if I couldn;t find out, then I threw something together. Were they great matches? Hell no. Did a match get posted? Hell yes. I gave a shit. What will this pissing and moaning on my part accomplish? Probably nothing but make everyone mad, make someone mad enough to quit and everyone will say "I'm turning over a new leaf. No more no-showing for me." I've seen it before, it'll happen again. No-showing is a constant problem in this fed and it always has been. There have been tons of ways to try and curb it and none of them have worked. It isn;t fair to myself, to King, to Edwin, to Raynor or to anyone who participates in this fed that no-shows drag down both the quality of the shows and the morale of the fed overall. And if you think I am pissed, you are getting off easy. This could be King. Were he writing this, I can assure you his vitriol filled missive would make most people think, "Why am I doing this?" Well congratulations. That's what we think everytime a situation like tonight occurs. The no-showing needs to stop, and it needs to stop now. We have tried threats, we have tried asking nicely... hell, we even changed the schedule so you would have more time to write matches! What else can we do but get pissed off when it happens and think to ourselves that we have failed somehow in making this place work correctly. I guess I am done. You will get your card when I have a chance to write it up tomorrow. It might be early or, if I have work to do at work, it might be in the afternoon when I get home. Doesn't matter either way right? Its not like anyone will write for it anyways...

The main event has ended but the show ain’t finished just yet. The fans watching worldwide and those in the arena are taken backstage to find HVT rolling out to the parking lot. Waiting for him is his driver from earlier in the evening, standing next to the limo that dropped Thugg off at the arena. (HVT) – Yo, time to go playa… (Driver) – Yes sir… Just then, from behind Thugg, a voice calls out… “THUGG! THUGG!! WAIT A SEC…” The Boston Strangler runs into view, and in doing so receives a huge ovation from the fans in the arena. Thugg turns around to greet the world champion, who pants as he comes to stop in front of Thugg. (HVT) – Yo, what up? (TBS) – Hang on a sec man…I wanna talk to you. Thugg uses his cane to stand up from his chair, while his driver takes his wheelchair, folds it up, and puts it in the trunk. (TBS) – You leaving? (HVT) – Yep. Time for me to go bro…I can’t do shit else here. (TBS) – You just gonna let King run you outta town? (HVT) – Yo, don’t make this hard yo…I can’t do shit. I tried to outsmart him, but he called my bluff. What else can I do yo? (TBS) – I don’t know man, but we can think of something! Come on…we need you here! (HVT) – Look bro…I can’t beat him…not while I’m all fucked up like this. I can’t outsmart him…I ain’t even gonna pretend like I can. We all know I’d kick his fuckin’ teeth in if I could, but I can’t do that shit when I’m like this. So what the fuck am I supposed to do? (TBS) – I…Don’t…Know…but what I do know is that without you here, we don’t stand a chance. (HVT) – That’s where you’re wrong bro…it’s the exact opposite. With me here, King will use that against y’all…and it will only get worse for all of us. You can lead them Strangler…you don’t need me. You’re the world fuckin’ champion dogg…I’m just an old head, tryin’ to do save the world or some shit. You got it yo…you can stop King. (TBS) – Oh please…don’t start in on that “you can do it” bullshit. I’m not trying to hear that. With you here, we’re better off…simple as that. (HVT) – Whatever yo…I gotta go. (TBS) – No. Strangler moves between Thugg and the door to the limo, prompting Thugg to glare menacingly at him. (TBS) – I’m not letting you leave…not like this. You’re not just gonna put your tail between your legs and sulk away. Thugg inches up very close to Strangler, still using his cane heavily, and when he is close enough, he grabs Strangler by the collar. (HVT) – So what? You gonna stop me? You gonna tell me, a man who was splittin’ caps before you even knew what wrestlin’ was, that I can’t leave? Let it go dogg…it’s fuckin’ over. RING RING RING Thugg hears the ringing and ascertains that it belongs to his cell phone, after which he promptly removes it from his pocket. (HVT) – Yo, hang on…YO… Thugg listens intently for a few moments before stopping the speaker abruptly… (HVT) – Whoa, whoa…slow down! Hold up! I’m a call you back in a sec…we’ll talk about this. (TBS) – Who was that? (HVT) – Moms…trippin’ ya know? Aight, but check it…I gotta bounce bro… (TBS) – One more show…just gimme one more show! We’ll figure something out. (HVT) – Fine yo…fine! Damn! I’ll come back for Smarkdown, but then I’m out…I ain’t gonna be King’s bitch. And I, for damn sure, ain’t gonna stay here if I can’t help. (TBS) – Fine…one more show! We’ll figure something out. (HVT) – Aight…no doubt. I’m out playa…holla. (TBS) – Wait…what about King? He’ll probably sick the police on you or something if you show up on Smarkdown, won’t he? (HVT) – Let me worry ‘bout King…I’ll be here on Smarkdown, but I promise you, it will be my LAST SHOW! (TBS) – We’ll see… Strangler moves away from the door and Thugg sits down in side. (HVT) – Holla… Strangler nods as Thugg shuts his limo door, and with the driver already inside, the limo drives away, leaving Strangler there to think of a way to keep Thugg active in the SWF. © 2002-2003 The Smartmarks Corportation The SWF All Rights Reserved

SWF Lockdown rolls back into Lincoln, Nebraska, the crowd on their feet, their cheers roaring in the background. Several visible signs voice support different wrestlers, but the camera does not dawdle on them, for tonight, there are more important things to worry about. Riley: Welcome back to SWF Lockdown! We’re live in the craptacular Pershing Center, the home arena of FORMER SWF tool Mark, Stevens! I’m Bobby Riley, joined by my “colleague”- Comet: CYCLOOOOOOOOOOONE COMET! Riley: God dammit, Comet! Can you not shut your mouth for three seconds? Comet: Why yes! Watch these superpowers at work! Amazingly enough, Comet shuts his mouth, holding up one, two, three fingers to count the time, them opens it again, triumphant over Riley’s “challenge”. Comet: HA! Your dastardly challenge has been conquered! Riley: Enough of that, smartass, we’ve got a main event to comment on! It’s the Winner’s Bracket finals! The Apostle versus Danny Williams versus Michael Craven in a Tag-In Elimination Match! Comet: Looking through the SWF Rulebook.... of Justice~!, the rules are as follows: “DQ and count-out are in effect. Two men begin the match in the ring, with the third in a corner. The man outside can be tagged in or can tag in at any time, but only two men are allowed in the ring at any time. When one man is eliminated, the two remaining competitors will battle it out in a standard singles match to see who advances.” Riley: And what stories lie behind this match! The miracle run of the Apostle has taken him this far, but can he go any further against two seasoned WFers? Danny Williams has rebounded from his Ground Zero loss to TNT, proving that he is a viable contender. And Michael Craven continues to defy common sentiment, rolling over all comers to make it this far. The winner of this match advances to the tournament final; the losers will get one more chance after a trip to that other bracket. Who’s ending up where? Let’s find out right now! The lights cut out, the crowd going silent for a second. Suddenly, strobe lights pulse to the beat of the guitar and drums in the background as Saliva’s “King of My World” kicks in, the crowd beginning to boo as they realize who it is. As the first words kick in, the strobes cut out, a pale blue light covering the arena, illuminating the figure of Michael Craven as he walks out onto the stage. Continuing his walk down to the ring, he turns around at the top of the ramp, walking backwards as he stretches his arms out wide, soaking in the crowd’s jeers. Halfway down the ramp, though, he abruptly spins back around, swinging his right arm in a straight path across the top of the stage. “BOOM!” A huge blast of bright white pyro kicks up, the smoke lingering on stage for quite some time as Craven finishes the spin, continuing his walk to ringside without interruption. Funyon: The following is the Winner’s Bracket Final, and it’s a Tag-In Elimination Match! Introducing first, from Tampa, Florida, weighing in at 280 pounds... ladies and gentlemen, The King Of Nightmares... MICHAEL CRAVENNNNN!!! Entering casually through the middle and top ropes, Craven quickly scales the turnbuckle closest to him, opening his arms wide and soaking in the crowd’s response, a chorus of heavy boos, as a white spotlight shines down upon him, casting shadows across his face. Mike then turns his head, staring back at the entryway before he hops down and begins warming up in the corner. Comet: Hark! It is that vendor of evil, Michael Craven! I am shocked to see he has not been vanquished! Riley: Don’t be so surprised, Comet. I’ve been singing Craven’s praises for a while, and only now is he really being seen for the monster he is? The gentle melodies of In Flame’s “Jester’s Dance” dances it's way out of the loud speakers, igniting the cheers of the crowd. The vocal members of the audience begin to chant loudly, nearly over-powering the song with: Crowd: DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E! On cue, Danny Williams pushes his way through the heavy curtains draping from the locker room entrance, and slowly makes his way out to the platform. With his head held high, Williams confidenlty marches down the aisle as the crowd continues to chant his name. Funyon: Introducing second, from Louisville, Kentucky, weighing in at 243 pounds, he is the leader of THE UNHOLY TRINITY... DANNNNNY WILLLLLLIAMS! Williams enters the ring through the ropes, Craven taking time to literally stare down at him. Williams gives a passing glance to Craven as he heads to the other corner and prepares for the match ahead of him. Riley: Williams is a clear favorite in this match, as he has come so close to winning the World Title before, and many people believe that his time as World Champion is forthcoming. Comet: Now why doesn’t Craven take after citizen Williams and learn to reform from his evil ways? Riley: Beause then he wouldn’t be Craven. ... “It’s... ...FATE!!!!!" Those words echo through the arena as the lights just drop out, a moment or two passing before what seems like a heavenly light falls down upon the entranceway. The Apostle walks out and looks up to the sky... but then the first few lyrics of "Burn" by the Cure begin to escape over the PA system and the lights are taken over by flames bursting down the entranceway. The Apostle can be seen in close up smiling as religious images flash with fire on the SmarkTron and he makes his way to the ring as Funyon lifts the mic to his lips. Funyon: And from Las Vegas, Nevada, weighing in at 225 pounds... THE APOOOOOOOOOSTLE!!! He slides into the ring, a mixed response from the crowd. Half want him to die, and half want to see him win, see the miracle happen. As he stands in the ring and removes his robe, the lights return to normal and the music fades out. Riley: I still don’t believe he beat Crow, JD, and Kibagami. How could he let alone ANYONE, beat all three of those men in a row? Comet: He must have luck, Robert. Riley: What do you mean? You think he keeps a lucky horseshoe in his pants or something? Comet: I don’t know. I was hoping you’d tell me about it. Riley: ... Shut it, you. The three men are all called to the center of the ring by Referee Matthew Kivell, who goes over the rules of the match, as stated before. Clearly making sure each man understands the rules, Kivell informs the trio that one must go to the apron. They glance at each other, neither of the three moving... Riley: Well come on, someone leave the ring- But suddenly, Craven reaches behind the other two’s heads, slamming their skulls together! Apostle and Danny stagger back after the metting of the minds while Craven high-tails it out of there, running as fast as he can out onto the apron. Seeing Craven exit the ring, Kivell calls for the bell... DING DING DING!! Riley: And here we go! Who’s gonna win? Williams recovers first, looking over at Craven with a demeaning glare, but this allows Apostle to catch Williams in the side of the face with two hard right hooks. Danny’s head whips to the side, but he quickly turns it back around, swingins his arm around with it and nailing Apostle with a hard elbow strike! “CRACK!” Apostle cries out loudly, but Williams follows up, booting Apostle hard in the gut. Apostle doubles over, Danny grabbing him around the head in a front facelock, and stomping the mat, whips him back into a snap suplex! Riley: OUCH! Apostle just got hit n the face with one of those famous forearm shots from Danny Williams! He’s not going to be able to chew tomorrow if this keeps up! Apostle cluthces his back as he rises to his feet, turning around intoa bending-over Danny Williams. Williams grabs Apostle through the legs and by the head, lifitng him off his feet, and turning him over, slams him down with a scoop slam! Apostle crashes into the mat, promptly sitting back up, grabbing his back and slowly rising off the mat. Williams is ready for this, reaching out and smashing Apostle in the face with two hard right hand blows before he grabs his arm and whips him to the ropes! Except in Danny’s case, he whips him into his extended arm, smashing him back to the mat with a short arm lariat! Comet: A feat of super-strength from young Daniel! He would make a fine superhero! As Apostle hits the mat, Williams quickly drops down to cover him. Riley: And a cover from Williams! Kivell drops to count... One! Kickout by Apostle just barely before two! Williams quickly climbs to his feet, Apostle trying to join him, but he is cut off as Danny drops a sharp elbow into his chest! Riley: Kickout from Apostle, but he pays for it with a massive elbow drop from Danny Williams! Comet: Poor Apostle doesn’t look like he’d be able to stick with Williams and Craven out there, does he, Robert? Riley: I seriously doubt it, Comet. Pulling Apostle to his feet, Danny cracks him across the face with another elbow shot before grabbing his arm, whipping him to the ropes. Apostle flies towards them, and bouncing back, he interrupts any plan of attack Williams may have been planning, leaping into the air while smashing his knee into Williams’ face! Danny is knocked to the mat as Apostle lands on his feet, grabbing his back briefly as he waits for Danny to rise to his feet. Danny does so, but as he does, Apostle hooks his arm with his own, and spinning around, flips Williams onto his back with a quick arm drag! Riley: I don’t believe it! Apostle just took down Danny Williams! This isn’t supposed to be happening! Apostle is supposed to be getting his ass handed to him! Cilmbing to his feet, Danny seems a little dazed, allowing Apostle once again to attack as he leaps onto Danny’s shoulders. He wraps his legs around his neck, flipping him back into a hurracanrana! Apostle, though, reaches back, grabbing one of Mike’s legs and pulling it forward, rolling into a pinning attempt! Comet: What a mighty hurrcananrana from citizen Apostle! And he follows that up with a pin to the mat! Citizen Kivell is dropping to the mat, and here’s the count! One! Tw-Williams breaks out of the pin, silencing the crowd! Apostle falls forward from the force of the break, but he is the first to get to his feet, turning around and noting Williams rising off the mat. Riley: And Apostle breaks the pin after a hurracanrana by Apostle! Williams may have woken up after that drop on his head! As he recovers from the pin, rising to his feet, Apostle runs for the ropes, hitting them and flying back at the rising Danny Williams. Danny, though, spins around, leaning his right elbow back as he smashes it into Apostle’s face! The reverse elbow smash drops Apostle to the mat, but he slowly turnsm himself over, and getting on all fours, scrambles towards Craven, trying to tag himself out of the match for now. The King of Nightmares tries to get out of the way of Apostle’s grasp... ... “SLAP!” But Apostle takes him in, diving for the sanctuary of the apron! The crowd pops like hell as Williams smiles, Craven refusing to go in, even though Kivell orders him to do so. Comet: Holy tag-ins, Robert! Apostle just tagged in the nefarious Craven! And I don’t think Craven wants in on this match! Riley: That’s not fair! Craven didn’t have the tag ropes! He’s not the legal man! Comet: I don’t think citizen Kivell cares, cynical compadre! After threat of disqualification from Kivell, Craven gulps and slowly enters the ring, climbing between the ropes, but Williams jumps him, smashing into him with a hard forearm shot! Craven falls into the ring, allowing Williams to put the boots to Craven’s head and neck! Riley: This isn’t fair! He can’t let this happen! Comet: And finally, Craven must face the music! How sweet it is to see him have to reap what he’s sown in this tournament! Williams continues to stomp a hole into Craven, still taking aim at his head and neck, but quickly, Craven finds an escape route. Blocking one of Danny’s boots, Craven grabs onto it, pushing it back and sending Danny back onto the mat as he loses his balance! Riley: Ha! I knew Craven would find a way out! He always does! As Craven gets to his feet, Williams rising to his his, he drops to his knees as he grabs Danny, throwing him over onto his back with a fireman’s carry! Danny hits the mat hard, landing on his back again, but once more, he perseveres and rises to his feet, just in time for... “SLAP!” ... a hard slap across the chest! Crowd: WOOOOO!!! Craven quickly draws his arm back, smiling as he swings forward... “SLAP!” ...and slaps Danny across the chest with another hard chop! Crowd: WOOOOO!!! Craven then quickly switches over to right hands, delivering two hard ones to Danny’s temple before he slams Danny with a surprise right hook, knocking the ICTV champ down, but not out. Riley: Michael Craven is doing what he needs to in order to win this match. He’s not letting Danny get any opportunities to turn the momentum against him! As Danny gets to his feet, Craven draws his arm back, hitting Williams across the face with a hard left hook! Another hard blow into Williams’s face dazes him, allowing Craven to grab him by the arm and whip him to the ropes! Danny hits them, bouncing right back off. As he flies back at the King of Nightmares, Craven collects him across his chest, then spins and drops to the mat, slamming Williams down with an Irish whip powerslam! Danny cries out as Craven holds on, covering him for another pin-fall attempt! One!!! Kickout by Williams! The crowd pops loudly for Danny’s kickout, but an angry, determined Craven quickly gets to his feet and peels Danny of the mat, grabbing him by the wrist and whipping him into the corner. Comet: Ha! Such weak moves cannot keep good down long, for behold! Danny Williams, future superhero! Riley: He’s no superhero!! He’s “The Man of 1,000 Armbars!!! Danny slams hard into the corner, Craven charging in after him, leaping at him. Hoping to crush Danny, Craven is mistaken as Williams ducks out of the way, forcing Craven to slam into the corner! Craven staggers back out of the corner, stunned by the turn of events, unable to locate Danny. He feels the quick waistlock from behind and his feet leave the mat before Danny drops back, slamming Craven on his neck with a German suplex! Comet: But wait! Danny Williams fights back against the evil forces with a supremely mighty German Suplex of Justice! Riley: Comet, tell me this... why does every single damn move some goody-two-shoes does a move “of Justice~!”? Comet: Does it not seem obvious, inquisitive queer ally? Riley: Other than to be annoying... no. Williams keeps the hold tight, though, bridging over into a pinning attempt! One! Kickout by Craven! One move isn’t enough to drain the energy of either competitor. Both slowly rise to their feet, ready to continue the battle. Riley: Is that the best Danny Williams can do? He’s not even scratching the King of Nightmares! As Craven gets to his feet, Danny Williams cracks him across the side of his face with a forearm strike! Craven’s head whips one way, but is sent back the other by a hard slap from the back side of Danny’s right hand! Craven is stunned just long enough for Danny to draw his arm back, smacking across the chest of Michael Craven! Crowd: WOOOOOO! Craven staggers back as Danny draws his arm back, nailing Craven with yet another chop across the chest that leaves a temporary stinging sensation! Crowd: WOOOOOO! Craven grabs his chest, staggering back, but Williams grabs him, whipping him to the ropes! Comet: Williams continues to fight the good fight and pummels at Craven with some hard chops, then sends him packing! As Mike flies back from the ropes, Williams bends over, allowing himself to flip Craven up into the air with a back body drop. Craven lands hard on his back, slowly sitting up he seems somewhat dazed, but as he gets to his feet, he gets grabbed and lifted off the mat, right onto Danny’s shoulder before Williams drops back, delivering a backdrop that sends cheers through the crowd... and chills down Bobby Riley’s spine. Riley: Dammit! He can’t get away with this! He’s threateaning Craven’s career! He might break his neck! Comet: How can he be threatening Craven? I believe he is only taking the fight to the villain who instigated the fight! Craven grabs his upper back, having fallen over onto his face, but Williams rolls him over, quickly covering him for another pinfall attempt! One!!! Tw-kickout from Craven! Williams pulls Craven to his feet, but instead of continuing the assault, he decides it’s time to catch his breath, slowly moving back and tagging in Apostle. “SLAP!” Williams steps out of the ring as Apostle climbs in, going right after Craven with several hard right hand jabs that knock the King of Nightmares off-balace, sending him staggering back. Comet: A well-timed tag-out from young Williams, allowing him to take a break from the action and regain his breath! Riley: That was stupid. He could have kept pummeling Craven, but oh well, guess he knows that Craven can outlast him. Comet: Far from true, misleading manipulator of words! Any intelligent Citizen would know citizen Williams could outlast Citizen Craven any day of the year! As Apostle grabs Craven’s arm, whipping him hard to the ropes, the crowd begins to boo. No one at ringside thinks anything of it until Danny Williams is dragged off the ring apron, pulled to the outside by his attacker, and as the camera swings down, the fans at home are cued in on as to whom the crowd was booing. Comet: HOLY RANDOM RUN-INS, RILEY! IT’S TNT! Riley: What the hell is he doing out here?!?! Williams grabs the back of his head, as in the ring, Craven ducks an Apostle clothesline. Apostle turns around, but Craven cracks him hard in the face with a right hook, But the camera goes back to the outside as TNT mounts Williams, beginning to beat his face in with closed-fisted punches. The fans holler in disgust as TNT beats on Williams, trying to work his head and work a nagging injury Danny has been coping with the whole tournament. Comet: It seems as if TNT is seeking some sort of retribution for earlier actions that Citizen Williams may have done towards him! Riley: ... You mean revenge, right? Peeling Williams off the ground, TNT grins, grabbing Danny by the back of the head and driving him into the steel guardrail surrounding the ring! “CLANK!” The guard rail rattles as Danny’s head bounces off it, but TNT slams it back down again! “CLANK!” The guard rail rattles again as Danny’s head hits it, TNT nailing Williams in the side of the head with a cheap knee shot before backing off, allowing Danny to rise as he stalks him outside the ring. Comet: I still do not know why TNT would attack Citizen Williams in such a manner! Riley: I think I’ve got it. TNT’s pissed, perhaps jealous, because he’s not in the tournament, and Danny is, but he beat Danny at Ground Zero, and therefore, feels as if he should be in the tournament! Back in the ring, The King of Nightmares scoops up Apostle and turns around, smiling as the crowd boos loudly. Craven responds, dropping to a knee and slamming Apostle’s ribs down with a rib breaker! The crowd jeers Craven, who lifts Apostle up and slams him into another rib breaker! Riley: But hold on for a second here, Comet, because Craven is just annihilating Apostle’s rib cage with these rib breakers! I would not want to be caught in one of those! Craven smiles, knowing that he is instigating the crowd, but he doesn’t care. Pulling Apostle up one final time, he drops down to a knee again, slamming Apostle down with a third rib breaker! Craven, though, holds on, getting back up with Apostle, only to scoop slam him into the mat. Craven grins, quickly dropping an elbow into the vulnerable chest of Apostle. However, he remains there, holding the JLer down for a pin attempt: One!! Two-Kickout by Apostle! Comet: But no such luck for Citizen Craven and his evil ways! Apostle has survived the assault! Riley: Yeah, but how much more punishment can the guy take? Craven seems a little upset at Kivell’s count as the focus shifts back outside of the ring. Now staggering to his feet, Danny Williams looks up and sees his attacker. Wnating to now beat the shit out of Thompson, Williams swings his arm, attempting a hard elbow smash, but TNT pulls his body back, ducking the blow. Williams spins around, allowing TNT to grab him from behind in a half nelson hold, and bending back, slams him head-first into the floor with a half nelson suplex! “WHAM~! THUD~!” Comet: SWEET MOTHER OF THOTH~! POOR DANNY WILLIAMS WAS JUST DROPPED ON HIS HEAD BY THAT MANIACAL TNT! Riley: What a half nelson suplex! The sheer brutality of the move is breath-taking! Comet: How can you love such brutality, such... evil!?!? You have no soul, malice-loving mongrel! Riley: I know. That’s why I’m here. Williams lands directly on his head, slumping to the floor. His eyes are shut, and he doesn’t move. The crowd quickly quiets down, even as Craven pulls Apostle to his feet, nailing him with hard right hands to his ribs, their concern on Williams. TNT slowly gets to his feet, looking at the carnage he has caused... And he smiles. The crowd boos him as he slowly staggers back, grinning and chuckling while seeing Danny lying on the ground, unconscious. Williams’ arm slowly moves, showing that he’s still alive, but that arm movement is the only such sign as the EMT crew, stretcher in-hand, spills out from backstage. Riley: OK, this is getting sick, even for my tastes... Comet: What a heinous act! Poor Williams is out colder than an ice cube in a blizzard at the North Pole! As the EMTs tend to Danny, the focus once again shifts back into the ring, where Craven has just knocked Apostle to the mat with an elbow shot to the chest! Apostle grabs his ribs, which are beginning to feel the hurt by now, as he is pulled to his feet, only to take two hard knee shots to the chest before Craven grabs his arm and whips him to the corner! Apostle flies in, smashing into the turnbuckle, but he doesn’t stagger out, allowing Craven to follow Apostle into the turnbuckle, lifting his knee into Apostle’s chest! The JLer cries out, but the worst of the punishment is yet to come. Craven bounces off Apostle, still facing him, but now, he grabs the middle ropes on either side of Apostle, and bending over, begins to jam his shoulder into Apostle’s rib cage and diaphragm. The shoulder thrusts tear the chest of Apostle apart internally, or at least that’s their intention. Riley: But ladies and gentlemen, let us focus back on inside the ring, as Michael Craven continues to viciously tear at Apostle’s ribs! Apostle cries out while Craven finishes up with a few more thrusts of the shoulder, releasing his grip on the middle ropes and standing up. Apostle clutches his ribs, uncontrollably falling forward out of the turnbuckle, but Craven catches him, lifting him up itno the air with his arms. Pressing Apostle over his head, Craven slowly turns around, allowing the audience a glimpse at the JLer before he lets him fall, dropping him onto his shoulder and falling forward, slamming Apostle into the mat with a modified gorilla press slam! Craven’s shoulder jams itself into Apostle’s ribs, and he cries out in agony loudly upon hitting the canvas. Riley: Gorilla press slam from Craven! Apostle’s ribs have got to be killing him! Comet: Quite a feat of evil strength- However, as Comet speaks, Craven, still holding onto Apostle, swings himself over onto him, forcing Kivell to count as he covers Apostle! Riley: But wait! Cover on Apostle by Craven! Here’s the count! One! Two! THREE-NO! APOSTLE KICKS OUT AT THE LAST SECOND! The crowd goes nuts along with Craven, who is furious at the call by Kivell. He sits up, pointing a finger at Kivell and demanding that he start making good calls in the match. Comet: Superb kickout by Apostle, but Citizen Craven looks upset at Citizen Kivell’s superior and justified call! Riley: He wants this win bad! His whole career he’s been understeimated and overlooked by everyone, and he wants a chance to prove that he is the real deal! Still fuming from the “bad call”, Mike pulls Apostle to his feet, grabbing him by the arm, and with a tug, whipping him to the corner! Apostle slams into the corner hard, staggering back out just a little as the enraged Craven charges in, leaping at Apostle for a body avalanche splash that will sure crush him! Apostle looks to be headed back to the mat, but the wily JLer dodges out of the way! Using his free hand, he puts it on the back of Craven’s head and pushes down, smashing The King of Nightmare’s head into the unpadded top of the turnbuckle! “THUD!” The crowd cheers loudly as Craven’s head hits the turnbuckle, causing him to bounce onto his back and grab his head in pain, but they also cheer as Danny Williams, now loaded on the stretcher, is carried away and has shown some signs that he’s still alive, but none the less knocked out. Comet: It is great to see that Citizen Williams is still moving after that suplex from that dastardly TNT- Riley: But no one cares about that! Look at what’s going on in the ring! Riley is right for once, as in the ring, Apostle, with one arm clutching his ribs, is laying it to the rising Craven, booting him in the head with a hard right kick! Craven is thrown back by the blow, rising again as Apostle tries another kick, but Craven blocks the blow this time! He holds onto the leg as he rises to his feet, Apostle seemingly in trouble, but Apostle improvises, leaping off his other leg and swinging that same leg around into Craven’s face, both men falling to the mat as a result of an enziguri! Craven grabs his face, slowly sitting back up while both men get up onto their feet, but Apostle boots him in the stomach, causing Craven to double over. Grabbing Craven in a side headlock, Apostle takes off, running a short distance before he drops, bulldogging Craven onto his face! The crowd cheers loudly again for Apostle as Craven rolls onto his back, grabbing head as he does and crying out in anguish. Riley: Bulldog from Apostle! Craven’s down! This isn’t good at all! Noticing Craven on his back, Apostle quickly covers Craven, pinning him to the mat for... One! Two! Kickout by Craven, causing the crowd to boo loudly! Comet: And victory is snatched from the jaws of truth once again! Perhaps the hate against kivell is justified... Riley: Phew! I’m glad he kicked out! We almost had a JLer win the Winner’s Bracket and embarass King! Pulling Craven to his feet as he rises, Apostle takes his time to nail him with two hard right kicks to the head, sending him staggering back a step and giving Apostle room to roll forward, extending one leg as he rolls to kick Craven in the face! The rolling wheel kick knocks Craven onto his back, but he slowly rises, only to be grabbed by the arm and whipped into the corner! Craven slams into the corner, but does not bounce out. This is exactly what Apostle wanted, and slowly, he runs forward at Crave. At just the right point, he leaps into the air and swings his leg around, cracking Craven in the side of the head with it! Comet: TIIIIIIIIDAL CRUSH! A move only a superhero would use, and it has sent evil packing! Riley: This cannot be happening! Not to Craven! Not to King! What’d they do to deserve this? Comet: Their evil way are catching up to them, Robert! Now they must pay the piper! Craven falls to the mat like a brick, collapsing towards the ropes. Knowing better than to try and cover Craven right next to the ropes, Apostle pulls him slightly away from them before he drops to cover, the crowd going absolutely nuts, expecting the end to be on the way. Kivell drops to make the count, but as he does, Craven’s left leg slowly begins to move... One! Two! THREE-NO! Kivell barely notices Craven’s left foot resting on the ropes and calls off the count! A second check confirms his decision. Apostle rises off from on top of Craven, now taking his turn to argue with Kivell’s officiating, demanding to know why Kivell stopped. Kivell points to the leg, causing Apostle to scream in anger at the call. Comet: And now Apostle is arguing! No one seems to be happy with Kivell’s officiating! Riley: The guy makes shitty calls. Why hasn’t King fired HIM yet? Now finished with the arguing, Apostle stands back, watching the dazed Craven as he rises slowly off the mat, grabbing his neck in pain, and as he gets to his feet, Apostle boots Craven in the gut, grabbing him around the head in a front facelock before dropping back and DDTing Craven sharply into the mat! Comet: DDT OF JUSTICE! CITIZEN CRAVEN LANDS ON HIS NECK! HE IS DOWN AND OUT! Now on the mat, Apostle quickly rolls Craven over onto his back and hooks his leg, forcing Craven’s shoulders into the mat! Kivell drops to count, the crowd following along... One! Two! THREE!!! NO! CRAVEN KICKS OUT AT THE LAST SECOND! APOSTLE CANNOT BELIEVE IT! Riley: Holy crap! I thought that was it! I’m surprised Craven is still in this after a blow like that, and I’m a supporter of the guy! Rising to his feet, Apostle slowly makes his way to the turnbuckle, where he signals to the fans for a big move, hopping to the middle, then top rope. He remains perched up there as the crowd pops, knowing what to expect next as Apostle watches back, waiting for Craven to slowly rise to his feet. Riley: He isn’t going to- Comet: He’s gonna fly, citizen Riley, like all good superheroes can! Slowly, The King of Nightmares pushes himself up onto his feet, staggering and nearly falling but finally, just as he is about to get up, Apostle leaps off the top rope, flipping backwards into the air as he comes down on Craven, colliding into The King of Nightmares! “WHAM~!” But he collides with Craven’s swinging forearm, Mike smashing into Apostle’s ribs with a high-power forearm smash! Both competitors fall to the mat, Craven from exhaustion and Apostle from the blow, but as Apostle slams into the mat, he clutches his ribs, thriving in pain for severals seconds until his convulsions slow and he stops moving all together. Half the crowd sits in awe while the other half responds in the usual manner: Crowd: HO-LY SHIT~! HO-LY SHIT~! Comet: By Justice’s Great Scales, I have never seen a blow like that! Riley: Did you see that?!?! Did you see THAT?!?! Craven just dropped Apostle out of the sky faster than your movie career dropped, Comet! Comet: Well, at least my movie career isn’t available for download from HomoHumpers.com... Riley: Takes one to know one, Comet. Comet: So, you admit to it then? Riley: What the hell do you mean? I don’t admit to anything, especially your lies! With Apostle laid out on the mat, an exhausted Craven wastes no time, staggering slowly forward to the nearest turnbuckle and slowly climbing up it. Once up there, he turns around, and after steadying himself, leaps off to a herald of boos! Comet: NO! This can’t be- Riley: But it is! Nothing can stop it now! Comet: Unless young Apostle rolls out of the way, overhyping observer of matches! While Craven flips the full 360-odd degrees, legs whipping around, ankles tucked under his thighs like he was praying, Apostle, grabbing his ribs, slowly starts to sit up from the move. Before his upper body can get more than 30 degrees up from the mat, though, Craven smashes into the rising Apostle with tremendous force, nailing a Shooting Star Knee Drop into Apostle’s ribs! The resulting blow lets out a thunderous- “THUD~!” Riley: APOSTLE’S KINGDOM HAS COME!! Comet: Merciful ! Apostle has been thrown back into the mat, and he may be down, but definitely not out! No superhero would fall to this evil! Riley: If he’s not out, then I’ll admit to being gay. Comet: ... Really? Upon impact, Craven bounces off Apostle as the JLer slams back into the mat, Craven flipping over Apostle and landing on the mat, but he slowly flips himself over. Determined as hell, Craven slowly slides himself across the ring, even as the crowd boos loudly, and crawls on top of Apostle, hooking the JLer’s leg with quite possibly the last of his energy. The ref, watching the match closely, begins the count as the crowd starts to boo... One! Two! THREE!!! DING DING DING!!!! Comet: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! Riley: YES! The crowd boos loudly while Funyon lifts the mic to his lips, forced to say those unpopular words: Funyon: Your winner, and Winner’s Bracket Champion... MICHAEL CRAAAAAAAAVEN!!! As “King Of My World” blares over the speakers, Michael Craven is helped to his feet by Matthew Kivell, teetering on the brink of exhaustion. He briefly pumps a defiant fist into the air, a huge chorus of boos raining down from the crowd as Riley jumps out of his seat, screaming for joy. Riley: CRAVEN’S DONE IT! HE’S WON THE WINNER’S BRACKET! TAKE THAT, YOU SPANDEX-WEARING FREAK! Comet: This... this isn’t right... how... how can good be defeated... by evil? While Comet ponders the question, Craven drops to his knees, pulling his arm out of Kivell’s grasp. He lifts both arms into the air, celebrating his amazing triumph of the Winner’s Bracket. He knows that he’s just one more win away from the Genesis IV main event, and he can almost picture himself going toe-to-toe with Strangler. He likes that thought a lot, and it’s the only thing he cares about, even as the crowd boos and tries to hurl garbage into the ring at him. Riley: This is incredible! Craven’s one win from going to Genesis IV with a shot at the World Title! For Commissioner King, Cylcone Comet, and the rest of the SWF, I’m Bobby Riley, and I’m in a damn good mood tonight! And as Riley signs off, somewhere backstage, a certain someone is grinning from ear to ear, knowing that his disciple is now but one more win away from going to Genesis and beating Stranger for the title... One more win from bringing the World Champion back under control... ... under his control... ---- SWF Lockdown, September 3rd, 2003. © 2003 White Apple Productions. All Rights Reserved “SWF: Raising Workrate By Typing Faster.” ----

As has been the custom the last few weeks, instead of another match starting the fans in attendance are less than pleased to hear… “ALL ABOARD!!! HA HA HA HA HA!!!” As the bass line of “Crazy Traion” kicks up, the Commissioner and primary shareholder of the SWF, the Suicide King steps out from behind the curtain. The Nebraska fans just pour on the boos. King struts down to the ring, looking once more like the cock-o-the-walk. Just before rolling into the ring, he snatches a mike away from a ringside tech and glares at him, wondering why the pretty girl from last week disappeared. Once in the squared circle, the Gambling Man bounces to his feet and looks around the arena at the very, very hostile crowd. “It is good to see you all too!” The crowd boos louder at his mocking tone. “I just bet all of you were lined up at the front gate two months ago when these tickets went on sale wanting to get a glimpse of “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens tonight. Huge, massive, eardrum breaking pop… “Well, too bad I had to fire his sorry ass for insubordination. I’ve been reading the Internet sites, and I know what all of them were saying. ‘Look for the surprise return of Mark Stevens this week on Lockdown since it is coming from his hometown of Lincoln, Nebraska.’ And believe me, no one is sorrier they were wrong than me. I would have loved to bring him out to the ring.” Cautionary pop, cheering for the idea of Grand Slam being here, but knowing something bad is coming up. “I would love to bring him out to the ring… so I could fire him all over again!! He was a worthless shill and I’m sorry it took me this long to get rid of him and that exorbitant salary.” Needless to say, the fans are near riot. King is stirring them up but good, and he knows it. There is an evil little glint in his eye, and a cocky half-smile that refuses to go away. “But that isn’t the reason I came out here tonight. Last week on Storm, I issued an ultimatum to the H-Ville Thugg. I told him he had until tonight to decide if he was working with me or against me. Now, it is time for an answer. Play his music and roll the gimp out here. We need to settle this.” “MUWHAHAHAHA!” An electric guitar blares of the speakers, starting the introduction to DMX’s “Who We Be”, as the entire arena explodes into a frenzy of cheers. "They don't know..." "Who we be." "They don't know..." "Who we be." “What they don’t know is…” Thugg rolls through the curtain and soaks in the cheers from the sold-out arena. As the music fades the camera zooms in and it is obvious that there is something troubling the man. “Yo King, I’m here. Holla.” “Right… ‘holla’. I asked for an answer tonight Thugg. What is it? Yes or no?” “You askin’ me ta join ya or leave? That still my choice?” “You got it Thugg. What’s your answer?” “Well King, I thought about it long and hard this weekend. You were right. You an’ me? We did used to be tight. I remember hangin’ by the hotel pools, hittin’ on tha babes. You an’ me King? We had us a damn time bro!!” “I’m glad you came to your senses Thugg. I always thought you were smarter than anyone gave you credit for. Now, Ladies and Gent…” “But y’all be interrupting again. We used to be tight, but that’s in tha past bro, and, like I said last week, the H-Ville Thugg ain’t nobody’s bitch!” The crowd pops loud for that, cheering on the former World Champion. He looks at them with hard, but sad, eyes. He knows what he just did. “Dammit Thugg!! I give you more chances than anyone else, I give you a choice, which is more than I wanted to do. And this is how you repay me? You throw my generosity back into my face? That’s it Thugg. You know what I have to do.” “Yeah, I know. But don’ be standin’ there pretendin’ you ain’t enjoyin’ it. Jus’ do what ya gotta do.” “Fine, fine. Thugg, you are hereby barred from television. In addition, if you are seen at any SWF event you will be arrested and prosecuted for trespassing. And don’t think that stupid “I bought a ticket” crap is going to work with me. You know the kind of people I employ Thugg. You know what will happen to you if they see you within 20’ of one of my events. Are we clear Thugg?” “Crystal.” “Good then, security, please escort Mr. McKinney off the stage and out the door.” “I don’ need no security showing me around. I know the damn way out! But King?” The Suicide King has rolled out of the ring and handed off his microphone. When Thugg says his name, the television picture cuts to the cool and confident face of the Overlord of the SWF. Thugg continues, “King? Don’t think this is over. I’m just one pebble man, but the ripples are spreading. You might be able to get rid of me, but there is no way you can stop the Revolution. One way or another, you are going down!” King looks only vaguely concerned as he stares at Thugg. But before King can retort, Thugg spins around on his back wheels and goes back through the curtain. As King makes his way up the ramp, the scene shifts to Comet and Riley at the announce table. Riley looks at the camera and says, “Empty threats by Thugg, and all I can say is I hope that is the last I have seen of him.” “But Justice will be served Bobby, have no doubt about that! One way or the other, by hook or crook… well, maybe not by crook… but I assure you… JUSTICE SHALL WIN OUT!!” “Riiiiigght. Folks, stay tuned, because we have one hell of a main event for you: the Genesis IV Tournament Semi-Final Three-way dance is up next!!

FADE IN The Suicide King is sitting at his desk in his office in the Pershing Center. He has a passive expression on his face as he listens to Ejiro Fasaki continue to rant. "Did you see what just happened out there," roars an angry Ejiro. "He almost cost me my shot in the tournament! He's trying to sabotage my career!" Wildchild rolls his eyes from behind Ejiro as the United States Champion continues to sputter incessantly. "I'll bet he's been planning to sabotage me from the beginning! Well, I won't stand for this, King! I won't have him undermining my quest to become the World Heavyweight Champion!" "I see," says Suicide King, stroking his chin. "And what is it that you would like me to do?" "Well," replies Ejiro, "for starters, you could order him to..." *BUZZ* With a sigh, King leans over and presses the button on his intercom. "What?" The meek yet melodic voice of his secretary emanates from the speaker. "Mister Applewhite, there's a John Duran here to see you." King rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath. "Tell him I'm in a meeting!" Turning his attention back to Ejiro, he says, "now, Ejiro, you were saying..." BANG! The door bursts open as John Duran bursts through, his eyes ablaze with anger. "Where's Wildchild," he bellows. Spinning around, he notices Wildchild leaning back against the wall behind him. He charges towards him in hot pursuit, but the Bahama Bomber darts away with alarming speed, escpaing to the other side of the room. Suicide King stands up, anger creeping into his voice as he roars, "Can't you see I'm IN a MEETING?" Ignoring the Gambling Man, Duran marches over to King's desk, slamming both his fists down onto it. "I want HIM," he shouts, raising his right arm to point at Wildchild. "In the ring. RIGHT NOW!" Suicide King shakes his head, a malicious grin on his face. "I think that chairshot may have damaged your brain. First of all, you're in no position to demand anything from me. Second of all, I don't have any segments available to give you a match, so you're just SOL, kid!" Barely able to contain his rage, Duran shouts, "He got me eliminated from the title tournament! He can't get away with it!" "Look Duran," replies King, "I'm sure this loss hit you pretty hard, but you're just going to have to learn to live with disappointment, because I don't..." Suicide King is suddenly interrupted as Ejiro leans over and whispers into his ear. A sickly smile spreads across his face as he turns his attention back towards Duran. "Okay, Duran, I'll tell you what; I'll give you a match against Wildchild, next week on Smarkdown... On one condition: It'll be a 'submissions only' match!" Duran nods his head in compliance. "Fine." He then turns towards Wildchild, shaking his fist at him in a menacing manner. "You're dead, Bahama Boy," he roars, as he storms out of the office. "And don't slam my..." SLAM! "... door..." Ejiro walks over towards Wildchild and gets right in his face, staring at him with a smirk. "I guess it's about time to find out just how much you've really learned..." Wildchild stares back at Ejiro, visibly shaking with rage... As we: FADE OUT

The Comet roars into his microphone, “Welcome back to Lockdown starring none other than the CYCLOOOOOOOOOOOOONE COMET and BOBBYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY RILEY~!” “Hey you were right,” adds Riley quickly, “stretching out m name does sound spiffy. Although doing it for you still feels rather egotistical. So I think in the interest of being the humble super hero that you are, you should just do that for me.” “Well, that’s not going to happen Bobby,” replies The Comet. “After all if I don’t have my battle cry how can I really be the best hero that I can be. After all what would Superman be without ‘up, up and away’? Or Batman with ‘Yeah, rub me right there Robin’?” “I knew it!” “So without further regard,” says The Comet, “lets head to the ring and the man with the microphone named Funyon.” Sauntering into the middle of the ring, Funyon calls out to the mass of humanity standing about him. “Ladies and Gentlemen, this next contest is another match in the Road to Genesis IV Tournament and has been declared a tag in three way elimination contest. Introducing first…” OHHHHHH SAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY CANNNNNNN YOU SEEEEEEEEEEEEEE~! With the sound of some unknown singer of the National Anthem, the crowd of people in the Pershing Center immediately falls flat into their chairs. Because stepping through the curtain marches the indignant form of the SWF United States Champion Ejiro Fasaki. And hot on his heel follows the flag carrying Wildchild, who seems especially, angered tonight as he waves the American flag back and forth in the most vicious manner than could ever be expected. But still Wildchild holds his fury in check while under the contractual obligation to serve his master for the time being. And as Wildchild takes his position on the outside of the ring, Ejiro Fasaki slides inside the squared circle and immediately climb up to the middle rope and lifts his United States title belt high into the air to the displeasure of the crowd. “FU FASAKI! FU FASAKI! FU FASAKI! FU FASAKI! FU FASAKI!” Hearing the familiar chant, Fasaki goes over to Funyon and immediately requests the use of the microphone. Snatching the stick away from the announcer, Ejiro gives Funyon a little shove just to let him know that Ejiro is not quite happy with the world at the moment. And so Ejiro brings the microphone to his lips and begins to speak. “You know something you Corn Husking bastards? I just though you might want to know that the rest of this great country has a little something called professional sports. We don’t have to settle for some kids that never go to class like this backwater burg. See the rest of us can actually pay our athletes legally. Unlike this bastion of rampant corruption were you pretend to be all about the sanctity of games! Well like me tell you something Nebraska, the only thing sacred about this hellhole is the fact that Ejiro Fasaki now stands in it! And why, because I’m better than YOU and I CAN PROVE IT!” “Well he is even more annoying than usual,” notes The Cyclone Comet. “And I think we know who to blame that on,” replies Bobby Riley. “If there is one thing that Fasaki can’t stand its losing so you just know that being jammed into the loser’s bracket by Danny Williams has done nothing to improve his mood.” Taking the microphone back from the aggressive Fasaki, “Weighing in tonight at 189 pounds and hailing from Sarasota, Florida, he is the reigning SWF United States Heavyweight Champion. Please welcome, EEEEEEEEEEJIROOOOOOOOO FASAKIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII~!” “And his opponent…” The sounds of Drowning Pool begins playing throughout the crowd as they simply continue to display their anger at the continuing string of wrestlers they don’t care for. Popping through the entranceway swaggers the powerful form of “The Sinner” John Duran. Showing no more appreciation to the crowd than Ejiro did, Duran takes a moment to looks into the angry faces of the crowd before finding one who is not quite so angry. A younger man in his late twenties cheers heartily for the former patron of Urban Decay while holding up a sign that reads “The Sin Bin” high in the air. Reaching out to his fan, Duran pulls the placard away and lifts it high in the air so the crowd so can see just what it has written across the white sheet of paper. But before handing it back to the young fan, John has an extra special surprise… RRRRRRRRRRRIPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP~! Tearing the sign in half with a smile on his face, ‘The Sinner’ slings the remnants of the sign right back into the down turned face of the heel fan. Suddenly no longer a fan of John Duran, the member of the crowd flips off the smiling grappler who is already further down the aisle. Sliding into the ring, Duran raises his arms to the booing crowd as he barely notices the United States Champion who is only too happy to allow Duran his time in the spotlight. “He hails from Champaign, Illinois and weighs in tonight at 267 pounds. This is “THE SINNER” JOHNNNNNNNN DURANNNNNNN~!” Moving back and forth on his toes, Duran warms himself up a bit as Funyon wants again takes center stage, “And finally…” “QUIZ~! COME ON DOWN!” Strutting through the curtain marches the pearly white teeth of the World Tag Team champion known as Quiz. Smiling broadly, Quiz still gets no better reaction from the crowd as the other two members of the match do. Soon a chant finds its way to the ears of the demented game show host as he continues to make his way to the ring. “NOOOOOOOO SHOW! NOOOOOOOO SHOW! NOOOOOOOO SHOW!” But Quiz merely ignores the sound of the crowd and climbs into the ring as happy as a clam. Pulling his own microphone up to his lips, Quiz begins his little spiel. “Welcome to tonight’s show! We have a very special game tonight… so it is TIME TO PLAY THE FEUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!” With that, the SmarkTron rapidly turns from showing the three men in the ring to the site of the Family Feud set. And as a prerecorded segment begins to kick in, the crowd immediately begins to jeer at the site of Quiz’s mug being blown up to epic proportions. “Okay folks, we asked 100 people the question, ‘Who is going to win tonight’s match up between John Duran, Ejiro Fasaki and Quiz… the number one answer is on the board. Let’s go to you Benjamin Hardy… Who is going to win this match tonight?” And there we see the slim, smiling face of the resident ring interviewer who is only too ready to answer the question, “JOHN DURAN!” “Good answer! Good answer!” “Okay…” mocks Quiz, “You said John Duran… moron. SURVEY SAYS!” X! “Of course not John Duran…. God you’re a dimwit. Moving on down the line we come to the beautiful Vicky Black. Hi honey….” Quiz leans in to give Vicky a little peck on the cheek before leaning back and reading once more from his card. “The winner of tonight’s match will be? “Ejiro Fasaki?” “Good answer! Good answer!” Quiz mumbles, “So cute… but oh so dumb. SURVEY SAYS!” XX! “Moving right along… let’s go to Show! Hey big guy!” “Hey Quiz,” smiles his tag team partner. “Your team has two strikes…” “They’re idiots Quiz.” “I know Show.” “What’s the answer?” “QUIZ!” “So brilliant… SURVEY SAYS!” DING! “NUMBER ONE ANSWER~! Back to you Quiz!” And we shift back to the ring where a smiling Quiz happily smiles in the center of the ring to a chorus of boos from the crowd. “Thank you, me.” Stepping up once more before Quiz can continue to make no sense Funyon yells into his microphone, “And finally… he weighs in tonight at 189 pounds and hails from Ontario, Canada. He is one half of the SWF World Tag Team Champions Double Jeopardy. THIS IS QUIZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ~!” Stepping into the center of the ring, referee Mike Kivell looks at all three men, as he knows that he is going to have to deal with a whole lot of chicanery. But as Matthew signals to the timekeeper to start the match all three men turn their backs to each other and all take a position on the apron much to the bemusement of the crowd. Comet speaks up above the laughter; “It looks as though none of these men have the courage needed to be true champions. They all would rather camp out on the apron than fight for glory and honor.” Bobby quickly replies, “Honor? What a bogus concept that is. All three of these guys are just bright enough to know that no good can come out of being in the ring. So trying to stay on the apron and let the other two damage each other is a perfectly reasonable response.” “You’re as cowardly as The Rainbow Raider and half as color coordinated.” “What does that even mean?” But someone has to get this match started and by simply picking the person in the middle of the other two to stay on the apron, Kivell orders both Quiz and Ejiro Fasaki into the ring. Smiling broadly, Duran claps his hands together in a mock attempt to get his opponents fired up, hopefully to get both men fired up enough to do some damage so that Duran will not have to. But looking at John with raised eyebrows, neither Quiz nor Fasaki have any intention of letting ‘The Sinner’ dictate their actions. However they have nothing better to do than to get this match started. After all, Duran will get his chance to fight in this match as well. But right now, it is Ejiro Fasaki that strikes first as he buries a knee right into Quiz’s chest as the two men com together in the center of the ring. Rocking Quiz back with a forearm blow across the face, Fasaki pushes the game show host back against the ropes and once again places a knee into the stomach of his opponent. The Cyclone Comet rants, “I think it worth mentioning once again that Ejiro Fasaki seems to have a knack for dealing with his fellow cruiserweights, especially the high flyers like Quiz. So we’ll have to see just how the Tag Team Champion will be able to fair against the United States Champion’s style as this match goes on.” Taking Quiz by the arm, Ejiro shrugs the tag team wrestler into the ropes and uses the point of his elbow to send him falling to the canvas for the first time in this match. Quickly pirouetting into John’s corner, Ejiro reaches out and takes a stab at a tag only to have Duran drop right off the apron rather than be brought into the contest. Snapping his fingers in disgust over missing the chance to get out of the ring, Fasaki turns back to Quiz only to be brought strait down on his face as Quiz takes him down with a drop toe hold. His face blistering against the mat, Ejiro pops up to his knees for just a second before leaving his feet and drop kicking Fasaki strait in the mush. Rolling with the force of the impact, Fasaki tries to find the safety of the arena floor only find his path barred as Quiz grabs him by the leg and drags him back into the center of the ring. Quickly mounting Ejiro’s head, Quiz leans down and begins to lower the boom with a number of short forearms to the side of the jaw while all the while keeping an eye on John Duran to make sure he won’t get blindsided. But ‘The Sinner’ is completely satisfied to set up camp on the apron while Quiz takes it to Rule. And finally with a swift smack across the face, Quiz finally leaves Fasaki lying on the canvas. “Quiz just turned the tables on the usual ground and pound style of Ejiro Fasaki,” calls out The Cyclone Comet. You have to wonder if going against the grain there will be enough to pull him over the top of the United States Champion.” Pulling Ejiro off the mat by the hair, Quiz uses an Irish whip to send the United States Champion across the ring. Then charging in right behind the member of the Magnificent Seven, Quiz lowers a shoulder and impales Fasaki in the chest with such impact that it causes Quiz to bounce strait back and into the center of the ring. Quickly rising up to his feet, Quiz looks on with glee as Ejiro falls strait down onto his seat and begins to gasp for air. Pulling Ejiro out of the corner, Quiz lowers his center of gravity before pulling Ejiro up on high and slamming him down to the canvas with as much force as the World Tag Team champion can put against it. Then making sure he has the distance correct, Quiz leaps up to the middle rope… AND DIVES RIGHT AT DURAN! TAG! “Nice move by Quiz!” calls out Bobby Riley, “He fakes going for the Asai moonsault in order to get himself out of the ring and bring the Sinner into the ring for the first time.” “I think you’re going to see a whole lot more of that type of acting before this match is through,” replies The Comet. “I do not think that anyone in this contest really wants to be in the ring anymore than they have to… a bunch of weasels they are.” Rolling right out of the ring as Duran looks at his hand in shock, Quiz takes up residence on the floor and motions to John to move into the ring so Quiz can have his spot on the apron. And begrudgingly, Duran does bring his 265 difference making pounds into the ring to continue the pounding on Fasaki. Quickly snagging Fasaki around the head, Duran hooks him into a front facelock before lifting Fasaki high into the air for a vertical suplex. Holding Ejiro over his head, Duran keeps Ejiro up with the blood flowing into his brain for nearly ten seconds before falling backward and slamming Fasaki against the canvas. Moving up to his feet with a sick little smile on his face, ‘The Sinner’ goes back to work by pulling Fasaki up to his feet and burying a kick right into the solar plexus of his weakened adversary. A hard right hand to the head only makes matters worse for the United States Champion as he goes stumbling back into the corner currently resided by Quiz. And the game show host is only too happy to take a walk down the apron and allow Duran his proper room. “Duran had to know that Quiz was not about to tag himself in there after what he pulled,” calls out The Comet. “Might as well show just how much he is in charge by daring Quiz to get in the ring. Playing the mental game is a part of every good wrestler.” Looking at Quiz with a little smirk, Duran drives into Ejiro with a harsh leaning knee right to the chest that only builds on the damage done by Quiz’s tackle in the corner. Again and again the knee finds the mark as Fasaki doubles over in pain as the referee calls for the break. Backing off for just a second, Duran gets the break of the count from the referee before coming back in on Fasaki by placing his boot against his throat and throttling the United States Champion. And while at the same time down the apron, Quiz is making a little adjustment of his own. “Quiz is unfastening his bow tie,” calls out The Cyclone Comet, “I guess he is really going to go about his business now.” “Or he is going to give someone else the business,” smirks Riley. Finally releasing his grip on Fasaki’s throat, Duran backs into the center of the ring all the while making sure that he shares quite a few unpleasantness with the referee. And as he has the referee’s attention, Quiz swoops in like a shark and immediately wraps his unfurled tie around the throat of his battered opponent. Tearing away at the throat of his opponent with all of his might, Quiz makes sure to toss the tie away the moment the referee turns back towards his direction. Lifting his arms as though to show that he did nothing that could be proved in a court of law, Quiz flashes his pearly whites as the referee gives him a questioning glare. But unfortunately for him Quiz should have been looking elsewhere as Fasaki immediately reaches out and tags him across the chest before falling down to the mat. Rolling all the way to the floor, Ejiro brings the delight of the crowd who is more than happy to let Duran slaughter the quizmaster. “NOOOOOOOO SHOW! NOOOOOOOO SHOW! NOOOOOOOO SHOW!” Shaking his head as Duran makes the universal sign of come get some, Quiz looks totally unwilling to get inside the ring before ‘The Sinner’ simply reaches out and grabs Quiz by the ears and pulls him right over the top rope and to the canvas. Quickly collecting Quiz off the mat, Duran holds his tag team champion foe still just before sending him bouncing across the ring with a hard headbutt into the bridge of his nose. Quickly cornering the cowling Quiz, Duran delivers of serious big league body shots as Fasaki lingers around the outside of the ring trying to get his wits back about him. But the United States Champion seems more into dressing down his charge for not coming in to save him at any point. “What you doing?” questions Fasaki as he holds his throat, “I’m getting killed in there and you’re just standing there. How about helping me out for once you worthless sack of crap?” Leaving Wildchild to ponder the ‘brilliance’ of his words, Ejiro hops right back on the apron just in time to watch Duran toss Quiz across the ring once again with a huge backdrop. Landing right on the small of his spine, Quiz tries to squirt away from the man that is basically kicking the hell out of him. But before Quiz can get too far, Duran is right there to send Quiz into the ropes and knock him down to the mat yet again with a hard forearm across the top of his head. Moving to collect Quiz immediately Duran continues his streak of dominance by pulling Quiz up and over his shoulder as he looks to send Quiz down with a powerslam. But the squirrelly Quiz does indeed manage to free himself from John’s grip and immediately heads into the ropes to use his speed advantage to get ahead. However Duran is no slug as he sidesteps the charging Quiz and sends the game show host right over the top rope and to the arena floor. “Quiz is in serious trouble!” calls out The Cyclone Comet. “From all the punishment that Duran has dished out, you have to wonder if he is going to be able to make it back inside the ring before the referee counts him out.” And so Kivell looks to execute said count as Duran backs away from the ropes in order to allow the elimination. But as his attention is diverted, Ejiro Fasaki comes in from behind ‘The Sinner’ and buries an elbow in the back of head. Calling out to Wildchild to get up on the apron, Fasaki latches onto the powerful Duran and pulls him over to where Wildchild now stands with a steel chair in hand. But Wildchild does not swing even as Fasaki calls on him to do so and instead stands there with the chair cocked and ready. And Wildchild does not have long to wait for an opportunity as Duran uses his much larger power to break free of the full nelson and switch behind the now screaming United States champion. And now, Wildchild’s hesitation completely disappears as he swings full force right at the face of his supposed mentor. SLAMMMMMMMMMMMMM~! But misses! “Ejiro dropped right out of the full nelson and the chair obliterated John Duran!” Dropping strait down to his ass as the chair comes whistling towards his skull, Ejiro looks upward to see the deadly after effect of the swing. Shattered by the steel crushing his face, Duran falls backward into the canvas as Ejiro rolls out of the ring and away from his chair wielding protégé and leaving ‘The Sinner’ at the mercy of whoever might pick up the pieces. And who better than Quiz himself to return to the apron as the referee stops his computing towards the count out? Climbing right up to the top rope, Quiz sets his sites on the unmoving Duran before taking flight! Springing off the top with all off his leg strength, Quiz rotates in mid air before landing right on top of John Duran’s unprotected chest! BOOOOOOOOM~! “AMERICAN IDOL BOMB! COVERRRRRRRRRR!” ONNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOO! THREEEEEEEEE! Riley yells into the microphone, “What a senton bomb, Quiz managed to crush the dazed Duran under all of his 189 pounds… and folks, if that doesn’t sound like a lot you have never dropped a bowling ball on your chest.” Ding! Ding! Funyon calls into his microphone as Quiz allows Kivell to raise his hand for the first part of his victory, “John Duran has been eliminated!” Sitting up and shaking out the cobwebs placed in his brain by the errant chair shot from Wildchild, John Duran fumes in rage as The Bahamas Bomber continues to pursue Ejiro Fasaki around the ring. But Fasaki soon finds refuge as he slides underneath the bottom rope and into a place where a referee can keep Wildchild away from him. Climbing up to the apron, Wildchild furiously scrapes against the referee in order to get his hands on the cruel United States Champion only to find more than the referee getting in his way. Because John Duran is up and he is totally unhappy. Charging in from the side, John slams into Wildchild with a hard forearm that knocks the Human Hurricane right off the apron. But Duran does not stop there as he follows the Hardcore Champion to the outside of the ring where he can further enact some sort of revenge from his elimination from the Genesis IV Tournament. Slamming a fist into the top of Wildchild’s head, Duran sends the second for Ejiro Fasaki scrambling away from he ring only to have Wildchild leap right back into the grasp of the far larger ‘Sinner’ and furiously slam away with a number of fists to the head. Savagely battling back and forth the two men seem intent on tearing each other limb from limb before a fleet of referees make their way from backstage and try to corral both men. Finally getting the two separated, the referees pull both men backstage as Ejiro watches on intently from the ring. “Ejiro better get his eye back on the ball,” notes The Cyclone Comet. “You leave Quiz alone and he will sneak up on you just like The Invisible Man and The Flash all at the same time.” “Why would you flash if you were invisible? Doesn’t that sort of defeat the whole purpose?” But still Comet’s words become prophetic as Quiz sneaks up right behind the distracted United States Champion and rolls him back into a pinning combination! Sliding around into position, Kivell quickly slaps the mat in order to perhaps get this match over with… ONNNNNNNNNNNE~! TWOOOOOOOOOO~! THREEEEEEEENOOOOOOOOOOOOONOTYET! Kicking away with all he has, Ejiro manages to force the weight of the tag team champion off his shoulders and keep the match moving. But still Quiz manages to keep the momentum on his side with a leaping calf kick that knocks the United States champion right back down to the mat. Quickly continuing to roll up to his feet in order to keep Quiz from laying down a lateral press, Fasaki finds his feet just in time for Quiz to send him across the ring with an Irish whip. Quickly following Ejiro into the corner, Quiz once again lowers the shoulder only to find Ejiro is no longer where the game show host left him. Dodging out of the way, Quiz goes flying through the turnbuckles and crushes his shoulder against the steel ring post before falling through the middle rope and crashing to the floor. “Nice counter there by Ejiro Fasaki,” notes The Cyclone Comet, “one again you can see just how well he uses the ring to his best advantage at all times. I’m not sure that anyone else in the business does it quite as well.” “But don’t count Quiz out yet,” replies Bobby Riley. “He might just be the king of the upset. Who after all predicted that Double Jeopardy would be able to knock off The Unholy Trinity and International Incident at the same time to win the SWF Tag Team Titles?” Quickly trying to press his advantage, Ejiro goes right to the outside in order to continue working on Quiz. Grabbing the quizmaster from behind, Fasaki quickly pulls Quiz’s injured arm behind his shoulder once again before running forward with Quiz in tow and sending him crashing right into the side of the ring side steps with full velocity. Creating a sickening sound with the impact Quiz shudders as he flails back down to the arena floor as Ejiro looks on with a satisfied glare. Grabbing Quiz right off the arena floor once again, Ejiro places him underneath the bottom rope and follows his prey back inside the ring. Slamming a forearm into the side of Quiz’s head sends the game show host spiraling into a corner. And it is there where Fasaki is only to happy to continue working over the shoulder with his usual surgical precision by placing the arm over the top rope in order to separate it from the protection found near his body. Slicing into Quiz’s shoulder like Jason on a camp counselor, Fasaki pops into Quiz with a number of harsh kicks strait to the shoulder joint. Satisfied with his progress there, Ejiro pulls the world tag team champion out of the corner and closer to the center of the ring. Quickly placing Quiz’s arm behind his back once again, Fasaki scoops the game show host up to shoulder height before slamming him strait down on the shoulder. “It looks to me as though Ejiro has centered in on the shoulder,” notes The Cyclone Comet. “Well obviously Comet,” returns Riley, “I think we all pretty much figured that out a few minutes ago.” Looking out to the people with his typical smile returned to his face, Fasaki fires off a neat military salute to the Nebraska crowd who are only too happy to return the gesture with several of their own as well as the sound of a familiar chant. “FU FASAKI! FU FASAKI! FU FASAKI! FU FASAKI! FU FASAKI!” Smiling at the reaction that we all knew he would get, Ejiro drops a solid knee down across the shoulder with all of his weight behind it. Grinding down with his knee, Ejiro nearly giggles in response to the screams coming from the World Tag Team Champion. Releasing Quiz from underneath his knee, Ejiro pops yet another forearm into the side of his opponent’s face in order to allow him the chance to continue to work over the arm. And so Fasaki goes about his business by wrapping up Quiz’s arm into a wristlock and using to sling Quiz across the ring with an Irish whip. Or does he? “GRAHHHHHHHHH!” Planting his feet as he whips Quiz, Fasaki holds on tight to the arm and yanks Quiz’s shoulder almost out of joint as Quiz finds his path to the buckles stopped way too short. Collapsing to the mat, Quiz holds onto his shoulder tightly as Ejiro looks out to the crowd once more with a happy little glance. Stamping down on the shoulder with an almost casual boot, Fasaki enjoys his control over the situation as the quizmaster hollers from even that small amount of contact. Plucking the wounded warrior off the mat by the wrist once again, Ejiro slowly and arrogantly wraps up the arm with yet another wristlock. Doing nothing for the pain in his shoulder, Quiz drops down to one knee as Fasaki smiles wide and broad. Not satisfied with just hurting the member of Double Jeopardy, Ejiro starts to smack Quiz on the back of the head simply to prove just who the best wrestler in the ring is right now. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! POKE! “Quiz just thumbed Ejiro right in the eye!” pops up The Cyclone Comet. “What a strike against the courage and determination of wrestling this whole match has been!” “Hey,” calls out Riley in response, “just because these guys are willing to do whatever it takes to succeed in this business, doesn’t mean they are bad guys. Why should Quiz let his shoulder get separated when a simply eye rake can get him loose?” Stumbling to the ropes, Ejiro immediately begins to paw at his own eye to hopefully to clear his vision while Quiz takes a few moments to massage his shoulder to return a bit of feeling back into it. But he might have a much larger problem to worry about as Ejiro quickly appears to have shaken the cloud out of his eye and is now glaring at the rising quizmaster. Rushing ahead with murder on his mind, Fasaki tosses a clothesline right at Quiz’s head only to find that his target is not exactly where he left it. Instead, Quiz ducks easily underneath the clumsy blow and sends a hard spin wheel kick aimed right at Ejiro’s face! WHAM! “Ain’t nothing wrong with Quiz’s legs!” calls out Riley almost as though he was passing out coaching tips. Falling to the canvas is a heap Ejiro looks about the ring like he’s suddenly seeing fourteen different version of his opponent floating around his head. While at the same time, the Tag Team Champion stumbles over to the ropes while continuing to work his shoulder back into a semblance of feeling. But Quiz cannot rest for long before he has to make a move on the rising United States Champ. Moving into his stunned opponent, Quiz tosses a forearm into Fasaki’s face and knocks Rule back a step. Running into the ropes to hopefully to get some more momentum, Quiz looks to put Ejiro to the mat once again only to have Fasaki lower his shoulder and send Quiz over his shoulder. But placed as close to the ropes as he is, Quiz shows his shocking agility by landing feet first on the middle ropes! Immediately using the spring from his landing to propel his body right back at the turning Fasaki, Quiz lands right across Fasaki’s chest with a stunning Asai moonsault! “Monty Hall MOOOOONSAULT!” ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! THRREEEEEEEEEEENOOOOOOOOOOOOOOTYETANYWAY! “Amazing display of agility there,” sighs The Cyclone Comet, “of course if these guys wrestled with some actual integrity they would probably be able to be real champions.” “Uh Comet,” comments Bobby Riley, “these two ARE champions.” “I meant in the spiritual sense.” Rolling off of Ejiro with the kick out, Quiz is there to catch the momentarily stunned Ejiro with a swift kick to the breadbasket. Pushing the United States champion all the way to back to a turnbuckle, Quiz uses his good arm to drive a palm thrust right underneath Ejiro’s jaw shocking not only the crowd but Fasaki’s teeth at the same time. Taking Ejiro by the arm, Quiz leans in and sends Fasaki across the ring with an Irish whip and follows closely behind. But as Ejiro reaches the turnbuckle, he manages to stick his arms out and grab a hold of the top rope. Using the ropes for momentum, Fasaki uses them to sling himself backward over the charging Quiz. Or so he thinks… Putting on the breaks as soon as he sees Ejiro making his move, Quiz waits patiently as Ejiro lands on his feet still in front of the wary tag team champion. And as Fasaki turns in order to find his wily opponent, Quiz fires a super kick strait into Fasaki’s big ugly face! CRACK! Falling to the canvas once again in a heap, Fasaki barely feels his own face as Quiz pries him off the canvas in order to continue working over the United States Champion. Pressing Ejiro’s back into a corner yet again, Quiz uses his legs to fullest effect but stomping the guts out of the member of The Magnificent Seven time and again as the crowd senses that the match is heading into the homestretch. Finally pulling Fasaki out of the corner, Quiz sends Ejiro into the ropes and catches him on the rebound with another kick right to the stomach. Doubled over from the blow, Ejiro can nothing but hang his head as he grasps for air as Quiz pops into the ropes once again. Leaping into the air, Quiz catches Fasaki around the head and drives him into the mat with a flipping neckbreaker! “LIGHTNNNNNNINNNNNNG ROUND!” Leaping to his feet with a smile, Quiz looks out to the Nebraska crowd with a fire in his eyes before grabbing the wounded Ejiro and dragging him into a more suitable position for what the quizmaster has in store. “He’s going upstairs! Here it comes…” “Potpourri for 450 Splash might be on its way!” Standing tall on the top rope, Quiz looks down at his adversary and leaps into the air while spinning forward hard and fast and aimed right at the downed Ejiro Fasaki. But as he comes flying down, Quiz suddenly notices that Ejiro is not exactly where he left him. Rolling out of the way in the nick of time, Ejiro watches on as Quiz collides with nothing but the hard canvas below! But even worse than that, Quiz jams his shoulder against the canvas with a jarring jolt! “Quiz pressed his luck and got a whammy!” Shouting out in pain immediately, Quiz tries to struggle up to his feet immediately in order to get off the canvas where Ejiro can take advantage of the injury. But even with his opponent on his feet, Ejiro can still take advantage of a situation as he proves immediately as he winds Quiz up right away before driving him down to the canvas with a jarring… “FASAKI FUSAHHHHHHHHHHH!” Immediately wrapping up Quiz’s shoulder in between his legs, it is only a matter of time Ejiro completes his signature submission hold! “CROSSFACE! CROSSFACE! COBRA CROSSFACE!” Locking down on Quiz with all of his strength, Ejiro looks up to catch a rather large form flying down the aisle towards the ring. “It’s SHOW!” calls out the Comet. “Can he make the save for his partner?” “He’d better hurry!” TAP! TAP! TAP! “Quiz couldn’t take it!” Releasing Quiz immediately, Ejiro rolls right up to his feet just as Quiz’s tag team partner slides into the ring. Loading up a big right hand Show takes a wild swing at the United States champion finds nothing but air as Ejiro virtually dives out the ring rather than face off against both men. Running over to the timekeeper, Ejiro snatches away his title belt before immediately heading away from both members of Double Jeopardy as Funyon makes the official announcement. “The winner of this contest and advancing in the Genesis IV Tournament…. EEEEEJIROOOOO FASAKIIII!” “What a match up,” calls out Bobby Riley, “Such blatant disregard for the rules of wrestling just warms my heart.” “Oh forget it,” replies The Cyclone Comet, “At least I still have the main event to look forward to for some nice clean wrestling. We will be right back with the winner’s bracket three way elimination finals.”

Inside the Justice and Rule locker room, Wildchild is seated in a folding chair as Ejiro Fasaki paces back and forth in front of him, his face contorted by an indignant expression. "You're still not getting it, Wildchild," he says. "This is a fairly simple concept: you work for me, which means that you have a responsibility to do what I tell you, and assist me when and if necessary!" "Screw you, Fasaki," Wildchild says as he rises slowly out of his seat. "Dis isn' what I agreed to. An' even if it was, you didn' tell me to get involved n'your match against Danny, anyway." Ejiro shakes his head in disappointment. "I see that my efforts to impart my dynamic leadership skills upon have been wasted! You need to learn to take initiative in situations like those! Do you mean to say that you would have stood idly by and let Danny Williams pound me into a pulp?" The Bahama Bomber's mouth stretches into a small grin as he shrugs his shoulders. "I never would have thought you'd need help in proving that you were better than him..." Ejiro stops his pacing in mid-stride, nearly stumbling over his own feet. "I don't like your tone," he says, walking over towards Wildchild and getting right in his face. "I don't have to tolerate your lip, Wildchild! We had a deal; I won, you lost! Get over it! Whether you like it or not, I own you, and I DEMAND resp-URK!" SLAM! Ejiro finds his sentence suddenly interrupted by a furious Wildchild, who grabs him by the throat with both hands and pushes him backwards, slamming him into the wall! "Now you listen to ME, you slimy little worm," he roars. "I've had t'put up with your wearin' dis stupid jersey, wearin' dese shoes, gettin' your lunch, shinin' your boots, an' all dat other garbage you put me through. But I'm NOT goin' t'help you cheat! If you can't win a match on your own, you got nut'tin t'blame but your own talent!" Ejiro, after recovering from the shock of Wildchild's attempt to choke him, raises his arms and pushes the Bahama Bomber away in an act of mock confidence. "Listen junior, you're in no position whatsoever to speak to me on the subject of talent in the ring; I've forgotten more about how to wrestle than you'll ever LEARN! And, need I remind you that the Suicide King holds your contract in his hands, and is pretty much looking for any excuse to fire someone right about now? Do you really want me to have to tell King about how your failure to honor the terms of our agreement? In his current emotional state, he might interpret that as a breach of contract, and kick you out onto the street!" Wildchild's eyes burn with a dark fury, as he stares a hole through his arch-nemesis, but finally relents, lowering his head in defeat. Ejiro's lips curl into a sneer. "That's what I thought. Now, I've got to win this match tonight to stay in the tournament. I shall expect you to take initiative, should the opportunity arise again!" And, without waiting for a response, Ejiro spins around on his heel and storms out of the locker room, slamming the door behind him. The camera man focuses in on Wildchild as he lifts his head up. "You wan' initiative, Fasaki? I'll show you some initiative..." As we: FADE OUT

Francis v. Sacred v. Show. Triple Fucking No-Show. Thank you for your interest in the tourney.

In a dimly lit hallway in the backstage of the arena, the Hville Thugg sat alone, carefully sorting through his thoughts just shortly after dismissing his Mini-Armada. Most of the workers were up front watching the show on monitors or living it up in their locker rooms, leaving the hallways bare for Thugg to roll through. He had been in this arena before, and just being here was enough to jolt some not so distant memories. The last time he was here though, he wasn’t confined to a wheelchair, nor would he have ever imagined that he would. Hville Thugg. The Unstoppable Wrecking Machine. Nobody would have ever imagined that it would turn out like this. “But it did.” He told himself as he brushed his hand against his legs. “They just don’t work like they used to, eh?” a voice cut through the silence, startling Thugg from his trip down memory lane. “Wha?” Thugg replied, looking towards the origination of the voice. “Yo…who dat?” “I’m surprised you would even be interested.” the voice responded, this time giving away his location with the glowing cherry of his cigarette. He took another drag, then exhaled. The smoke swirled around his face, but through the cloud he could see Thugg studying his figure, trying to figure out who he was. He took one last drag of his cigarette, then flicked it to the floor as he stepped out from the dark corridor. “Hello, Thugg.” He greeted in between puff‘s of smoke escaping from his lungs. Upon stepping into the light Thugg easily recognized him. A man who had recently taken to the dark side, Johnny Dangerous. “What’s this pussy ass mutha fucka what?” He thought to himself. “Yo, Mutha F*cka!” Thugg responded. “I don’t know who the f*ck you think you are, but I’d suggest you quit trying to be all scary like! I don’t play all this mystery fool hiding in the shadows sh*t! You could give someone a mutha f*cking heart attack, stupid ass ni...!” “Now, Thugg.” Johnny responded with a bright smile. “I didn’t mean to alarm you, you must accept my apologies. Besides the last thing we need is another ‘legend’ having a heart attack around here.” “What the hell do you want?” “I’m just here to pay my due respects, Thugg.” said Johnny. “After all, it’s not every day that I get to see one of the legends of the SWF. I mean, I’ve heard all of the stories, and I’ve seen a lot of your tapes, but nothing, and I mean nothing is as exhilarating as seeing you here in person.” “Oh,” replied Thugg, feeling somewhat ‘crunchy’ for jumping the gun so soon. “Hey, Yo, Johnny. I’m sorry about that. You just kinda scared me there for a second. I wasn’t sure if you were coming as friend or one of them punk ass lapdogs King likes to keep around. Especially with all that hostility you been showing towards Wildchild. You should be trying to help him instead of trying to put him down. I thought he was your boy? ” Johnny stared down towards Thugg still bearing his grand smile. “Things change sometimes, Thugg. I mean, you for one should know all about that.” “What you mean?” “Well take this for an example, if you will.” said Johnny as he begun to slowly walk around Thugg. “You used to be a World Champion. One that held records for title reigns in the SWF as well as the JL. The Hville Thugg! The man who would wreck your shit if you looked at him cross eyed!” Thugg nods in agreement. Fondly remembering the days of yesterday as Johnny continues. “But now, Thugg.” “Yeah?” “I’m afraid the only shit you’ll be wrecking is when you take on Stephen Hawkings at the Special Olympic Wheelchair Demolition Derby, that’ll be a doozy for sure!” “What the fu... “ Thugg could hardly believe it. His brows suddenly angled themselves in a ‘V” shape as he clenched the edges of his chair. “Yo, bitch! You think your funny don’t ya.” “No, see, actually... what I thought was Funny was Storm. You know, when King basically wrecked your shit. Like I said, I watched your tapes, just not the ones you would like everyone to be watching. Then rewinding. Then watching again. I mean come on, who the hell cares about a washed up has been? Your record for World Title reign has already been broken twice over. You don’t expect me to actually waste my womanizing time watching your crippled ass make an ass out of yourself, do you?” “Yo…for real cuz…I know you feelin’ all big and shit right now cause I’m in this chair. But I suggest you take some of that base out yo voice fo’ I gotta…” “Before you what?” snapped Johnny, cutting Thugg off in mid-sentence. “Fall flat on your ass like you did on Storm?” Before the Thugg from Hville could even respond, Johnny whipped around behind him and grabbed onto the handlebars on his wheelchair with a sudden jerk. “Let’s take a ride!” .................. A skip, hop, a jump. and two corridors down, the Suicide King was preparing to make his routine patrol of the backstage, just so everybody would know that he was in fact in control. He stepped out from his office armed with a clipboard and pink slips, gently closing the door behind him. “I SWEAR TO GOD BITCH…” “BEEP! BEEP! WATCH OUT!” shouted Johnny as he tore down the hallway with Thugg in his chair. Thugg tried to stop the chair by grabbing onto the wheels, but only burned his hands on the rubber for the effort. King quickly put his back to the wall, leaving a wide opening for Johnny to speed through as he casually snickered at the sight. “Good to see Thugg getting some exercise,” King said as they the derby passed him by. “Tell me what you know about Wildchild!” Johnny commanded, making a sharp turn of the corner. “You seem to watch him pretty close, I want to know what you know!” “I already told you bitch; I don’t know what the f*ck you talking about!” responded Thugg, holding on as he might for dear life. “Can’t a nigga just make idle converstation you little ass fucker. “Fine! Then you better tell all of your friends to watch out for me! I’m going to take down everyone who has a part in this, even you if I have to! Oops, looks like it’s the end of the line, Thugg.” “Don’t you f*cking dare, you little... ” With one final shove, Johnny released his grip from the chair and made a hard right down the hall as he sent Thugg sailing forward... KA-RASHHH!!! ... into a stand containing metal poles and several unopened bags of some substance. When Thugg’s chair hit the stand, it tipped over, sending Thugg tumbling to the floor. “That mutha...” growled Thugg. He began to push himself up from the floor when he felt someone grab him around the arm. He looked up - still gritting his teeth - into the eyes of the Wildchild. “Are you okay?” the Bahama Bomber asked, his concern overbearing. “When the hell are you ever going to learn, Dominic?” said a third person, Ejiro Fasaki, in between snickers. “Let the fat bastard lie on the floor, he can’t cause any problems down there.” Ignoring the ever present Ejiro, Thugg simply looked back at Wildchild and said: “Yo…your friend done lost his mutha fuckin’ mind.” “Johnny...” Wildchild said, knowing exactly who Thugg spoke of. “Oh, for the love of God.” griped Ejiro, growing sick and tired of hearing that name day in and day out. “Somebody, anybody, get me a brick.” “He’s gonna get his shit split fo’ this…you best believe that shit,” Thugg came back, seemingly both his pride and his head a little shaken. “Oh, we’re all so very scared Thuggikans,” replied Ejiro, despite the fact that the statement was not directed at him. “Let’s go Wildchild…and try not to roll over anyone’s toes tonight Thugg.” Wildchild helped Thugg all way up just before he was grabbed by the arm and dragged away by Ejiro. “Later Thugg,” Wildchild called back as he passed, kind of giving him a nod that Johnny would indeed get his comeuppance. As the departed, Thugg turns his wheelchair right-side-up before finally plopping down in it as if his legs were ready to give way at any moment. “Stupid fuckin’ kids.”

We come back to the packed Pershing Center in Lincoln, Nebraska, greeted by cheers as SWF Lockdown goes back on the air! The camera gives a long pan of the crowd, with a few ‘Grand Slam’ supporters with signs like “Outta Here? No way. Just rounding the bases…” and “We’ll Always Aim for the Fences!”. Unfortunately these aren’t up for long as a few security guards are visible coming in from behind to confiscate them. We zoom down to Comet and Riley, who gives a sigh as he looks at his monitor. “Is something the matter, Citizen Riley?” “… Huh?” He says before snapping back to reality, “Oh, just tired of having to sit next to a freak like you. What’s the next match?” “Well, curt cohort, next up is a battle between a Dark Angel of JUSTICE~! and In-JUSTICE~! himself: Nathaniel Kibagami and The Judge! This no-good felon will be in serious trouble tonight against someone who is turning into a crime-fighting menace!” “More like a menace in general!” says Bobbie indignantly, “Kibagami has busted out the Demonstar Driver in almost every match of this tournament. Hopefully the Judge will be able to take him down before he can hurt anyone else, damn it.” *DING DING DING* The ring bell is hit thrice as the crowd pops for the suit-clad Funyon to enter the ring. The popular ring announcer straightens out his suit jacket before bringing up his commanding voice through the sound system of the Nebraskan arena. “The following is a singles match in the GENESIS WORLD TITLE TOURNAMENT! The loser will be out of the tourney while the winner goes on to the next round! Entering first…” The intro to “Testify” by Rage Against the Machine plays as the arena begins to turn a deep red. The beat intensifies, getting louder and louder as it goes on until the crescendo reaches a peak and- “NOW TESTIFY!” Three sets of red pyro light off onstage as the Judge steps out, a dead serious look on his face. As the SmarkTron replays some of his greatest moments the old veteran looks straight ahead, his eyes totally fixated on the ring: Tonight is going to be one long haul. “Now entering the ring, weighing in at 242 pounds and hailing from Royal Oak, Michigan, he is a former Tag Team and Hardcore Gamer’s CHAMPION! He is THE JUDGE, WILLIAM HEAAAAAAAAARFOOOOOOORD!” “Hearford has his mind focused on the ring,” says Bobbie with some pride, “That means Kibs is in big trouble. If the Judge is really focused he’s going to run circles around that cripple.” “Or maybe his guilty conscience is telling him that his own Judge-ment is at hand. Even I have to admit that facing a monster like Nathaniel is indeed a frightening prospect.” The old veteran ignores the crowd completely as he goes over to his side of the ring, stretching out his legs with the assistance of the turnbuckle. He repeats his game plan inaudibly over and over again; knowing that’s probably the only way he’s going to be able beat the man coming out next. “And entering second…” The entrance ramp begins to fill up with fog, rolling while the lights go down and a picture of Nathaniel Kibagami sitting on a wooden chair appears on the SmarkTron. His back to the crowd, the gentle guitar chords paint a picture far different that that we know of the person formerly named “The Slaughterer”… *BAM* Every light in the arena flicks on at once, creating a blinding flash that leaves everyone in the arena blinking and struggling to see. On the SmarkTron, the serene picture of Nathaniel is gone, replaced by a Ankh burning fiercely on the massive screen. The music, along with everything else, has change to a more foreboding tone as the Silent One appears on the ramp while the lights go back to their normal setting. “Now entering the ring, weighing in at 268 pounds and hailing from Phoenix, Arizona, he is one, if not the most, feared man in the SWF. He is THE SILENT ONE, NATHAN KIBAGAMIIIIIIII!” The man walks down the ramp, cold as winter while he ignores the fans around him. The crowd cheers, thinking him as more of a badass rather than the ruthless being he really is. Sliding into the ring, he calmly steps over to the nearest turnbuckle and stretches out his arms like a crucifix before stepping back and looking across the ring at his opponent. By now the Judge is done with his prep work and is watching the Slaughterer like a hawk. Matty Kivell looks at both men, and seeing them both prepared he points to the timekeeper for the bell! *DING DING DING* The match is on, and the two opponents step out of their corners and slowly begin to approach each other. Keeping just out of reach of Kibagami’s fearsome kicks, Hearford watches the veteran looking for an opening or a weakness. Meanwhile, Silent keeps stepping forwards, trying to back Hearford up into a tight spot and open him up for a kick. But Justice just can’t seem to stay corralled as he makes sure to avoid getting trapped in a corner. “You know, this reminds me much of a Mongoose fight I saw in Thailand,” says Comet quietly, “Where the noble rodent was put in a cage with a Cobra and forced to fight it out.” “Isn’t that, like against your code or something?” “Yes, allowing animals to fight to the death is something a superhero cannot allow, which is why I immediately grabbed the Mongoose out of the cage. Unfortunately the Cobra bit me before I could get out of the way, and I would prefer not to discuss the hallucinations that occurred afterwards.” The crowd waits tentatively for the opening strike, and they are finally rewarded as the Judge dashes in, going for a lock-up! Kibagami plays Riki-Tiki-Tavi well, though, and he’s able to get off a sharp kick to the side of Hearford. The Judge grimaces as he takes a step to the side, but he throws off the pain and quickly backs out of the path of another sharp kick. The old man shakes his head, throwing off the minor failure before going back to his normal form. He feints in again, trying to draw a kick out of Silent, but the Slaughterer holds back like a disciplined warrior. They circle again for a moment, the Judge waiting for a chance to get around the shoot-style kicks while Silent waits for a chance to unleash them. “Obviously the criminal is fearful of Citizen’s Silent’s kicking power.” “Well, you’d have to be dense not to,” says Riley in a ‘No duh’ fashion, “The Judge is just playing it smart. If he can get around those kicks, this match is his.” Again, Hearford dashes in, and Silent lets off a high roundhouse kick, expecting the old man to go for a grapple, but the Judge goes low instead! Ducks under and gets both hands right around the leg still on the ground, yanking the Slaughterer right onto his back. He quickly tries to flip Kibagami over for a Half Crab, but Nathan isn’t about to let him do it. He brings around his other foot and nails the Judge right in the jaw, knocking the old man back and allowing himself some room to kip up to his feet. Justice holds his jaw for a moment, but he immediately goes on the defensive as Kibagami goes on the attack. He nails Justice in the chest with his palm once, twice, and thrice to send the old man stumbling. Sensing the opportunity for a quick knockout blow, he lines himself up and delivers a thrust kick! … That the Judge ducks and wraps his arms around! The old man quickly sweeps out his other leg, putting him on his back and allowing him to flip him into a Half Crab! “The Judge is putting his dastardly plot into action, attacking the legs of Kibagami!” “That’s a smart move,” says Riley, a bit more level-headed, “You take out Kibagami’s legs and there goes half his offense and most of his defense as well, which will let ya get at his weak neck a bit easier than it normally would be.” The Judge torques the leg back as hard as he can, though Kibagami’s face doesn’t give much of a hint of pain. Instead, his visage seems to be filled with focus and will, and almost instantly he begins pulling himself towards the ropes. It’s not all too easy as the Judge is still strong himself and is able to delay the Silent One, trying to get the most out of the hold before Silent finally reaches the ropes for a break. Hearford releases almost instantly, wanting to be on guard when Nathan gets back up. “Kibagami doesn’t seem to be in much pain after that half crab,” says Comet as the Silent One gets up to his feet, “One has to be amazed at the mental fortitude of the man to be able to withstand such a submission without even flinching. Thankfully he’s on the side of JUSTICE~!” “I wouldn’t be too sure of that, Comet. Just wait until he Demonstar’s some babyface like Mak Francis. I’ll bet you wont’ be sayin’ it was for JUSTICE~! then…” The two begin looking for an opening like at the beginning of the match, but this time Silent is the one to move first, actually going in for a lock-up. The Judge doesn’t expect it, and Kibagami quickly gains an early advantage. He begins pushing Justice backwards, and spins around for a headlock, but the Judge tucks his head and Kibagami’s arm slides right over top of him. Cinching a waistlock, the old man tries to go for a German, but Silent reacts quick and breaks the waistlock, grabbing on of the Judge’s arms and bringing it over his shoulder for an Ippon Seionage! The Judge lands right on his back and Kibagami immediately starts to wrap his legs around Hearford’s arm and head… “Triangle Choke! Triangle Choke! It looks like Kibagami is going to beat the Judge at his own specialty!” cries Comet. “Blocked! HA!” is Bobbie’s answer as the Judge manages to locks his hands together and roll onto his side. The crowd, who has generally been quiet throughout the match waiting for something exciting to happen, comes to life as a potentially match-ending submission is almost put on. But as Riley called, the Judge has rolled onto his side and locked his arms to prevent the choking effects of the hold from taking effect. “See that? That’s called ring experience and instinct,” says Riley with obvious admiration, “The Judge is preventing Silent from pressing his shoulder and arm up against his neck and the artery that’s there as well.” “Yes, but Kibagami still has control at the moment, and don’t you think for a second that he’ll be giving up anytime soon.” Indeed, Kibagami pulls hard on the Judge’s hands, but they are firmly locked in. Seeing the hold to be no longer advantageous, the Silent One releases his scissors around the Judge, giving him a nice boot to the face before letting go of his arm. The crowd backs down a little, but not too much as Kibagami keeps control of the match, pulling the Judge up into a sharp knee to the gut. The Judge doubles over a little, and Silent locks in a front headlock. He leans back while maintaining the headlock, and lifts the Judge over the top, for a Front Chancre Suplex! “A Downshifter Suplex, and Citizen Silent is weakening that neck of the Judge. Perhaps he’s trying to set up the Demonstar?” “Like that needs any set up. He’s probably trying to wear down the Judge a bit more after his Triangle Hold was shut down miserably.” Hearford holds his neck after landing, and Kibagami kips back up to his feet, sparking a small pop from the crowd. The Slaughterer lifts up the old man to his feet, giving him a sharp elbow to the head that staggers him back a few feet. He lines himself off and fires off a hard kick, then unleashes another on the stunned old man. The crowd cheers as Justice spins around from the force of one of the kicks, allowing Kibagami to hook one of the Judge’s legs from behind. But the Judge knows what’s coming up, and he locks on a ¾ Headlock as he breaks the cradle and runs forwards… *CRACK* “Surprise Witness! Called at just the right time, too!” says Riley with glee as Silent lies on the canvas unmoving while the Judge lies down as well, a bit tired from the beating he took in the last few moments. The Judge takes in a few deep breathes as he begins to get off the mat, boos reigning down on him as he catches a small rest. He doesn’t acknowledge them much as he keeps his eyes fixated on Kibagami, and he begins to get back up to his feet… … and so does Kibagami. To an amazing pop the man formerly known as the Slaughterer begins to push off the ground only moments after being nailed with the finisher of Justice! “It looks like that neck has got some adamantium bonded to it!” says Cyclone Comet with a smile and a chuckle as Riley still can’t believe it. “B-B-But he had a fricken broken neck!! How can he be getting up after taking a Diamond Cutter?!” The Judge, slightly taken aback by this, quickly moves towards his legs. Kibagami tries to kick him off, but Hearford holds on for dear life as he steps his legs through Silent’s and falls backwards in Cross Examination! “Good idea! Good idea!” says Bobbie, trying to regroup, “Stick with the plan and you’ll be okay.” The Judge pulls, rolls, and torques the legs of Kibagami any which way he can, trying to inflict pain against the monster he’s up against. But Silent’s shows only a slight grimace as he weathers the pain, and he slowly begins dragging himself towards the ropes. The crowd goes absolutely wild as he gets closer and closer, only a gritting of teeth a hint at the pain he’s in. He crawls closer and closer as the Judge tries harder and harder… … but he gets to the ropes! The crowd gives a cheer as the ref asks the Judge to break the hold, and he quickly does, scrambling back up to his feet. Kibagami isn’t far behind, though. The Judge looks a little flustered; it’s a bit obvious he didn’t expect something like THIS, but his familiar stony look returns to him as he goes over and kicks the Silent One in the gut. The crowd boos as the Judge continues as Silent briefly crumples to the ground, still targeting the legs of the Slaughterer. “The Judge is hanging on that body part like a pitbull,” says Riley, some hope in his voice, “If he keeps it up, I don’t care how tough Silent is he WILL feel it!” Hearford goes down and grabs at the leg, probably going for a submission, but Silent is able to kick him away. The Slaughterer gets up to a small but visible limp after being stuck one of Justice’s most potent submissions, but it doesn’t look as though it affects him much. The old veteran backs off as Silent begins to step towards him again, but he goes down for a tackle he runs right into a straight kick from Kibagami. The Judge reels backwards, and Kibagami follows up on it with a pair of sharp side kicks. Hearford holds his side while Silent follows up, grabbing a facelock while jumping into the air! The Judge is nailed to the mat right on his head while Silent gets back up. “Judo DDT! His martial arts skills are almost as formidable as mine.” “Yes, we all saw those so well represented in the Comet’s Tale III… Oh wait, no we didn’t because NO ONE WENT TO IT!” “… Aren’t we a little bitter that we didn’t get a movie role.” The Judge is left on the mat holding his head as Silent kips back up to his feet, the crowd getting behind the man formerly known as the Slaughterer. He goes over and grabs Justice’s arm and falls back, trying to wrap his legs around the head and arm of Hearford again for a Triangle Choke! The Judge isn’t able to lock his hands, so instead he begins to flop around, trying move around towards the ropes. He is able to shift himself around to get a foot onto the ropes before Silent can lock his legs around him, and the crowd boos at the escape of the heel. Silent gets back up to his feet again, not showing any frustration as the Judge is able to escape his chosen submission again. He pulls the old man up and begins hammering him with his kicks. One, two, three, four, five, the old man only barely on his feet as Kibagami stops the kicking assault Grabbing the old man in an inverted facelock, Nathan moves him backwards towards the ropes… “Flesh into Gear!” calls Comet as he springboards off the ropes… … but it’s premature as the Judge wraps his arms around the ropes, sending Silent sailing over him. The Silent One lands on his feet, but the Judge uses the last bit of his energy to get up behind Silent, wrapping his arms around the still surprised man’s throat. He spins him around and locks on a body scissors in a last ditch effort, dropping both men down in a Doushime Sleeper hold! Kibagami begins to try and break the hold, but the Judge holds on like his life depends on it. Not looking as though he can break the hold, Nathan begins to move towards the ropes instead, pushing with his feet. But suddenly a small smile draws across his face, and the man known as the Slaughterer slowly stops moving. “Yes! His legs must have given out due to Cross Examination! It all comes together! WHOO!” “I’m not sure that’s the-“ “Oh yes it is! YES! WHOO!” The crowd begins to boo as Matty Kivell comes over to the now unmoving Silent, and raises his hand. It falls. He raises it again. It falls. He raises it a final time. And it falls? Some of the fans give confused reactions while the others boo, and Kivell calls for the bell. *DING DING DING* “The winner of the match, and moving on to the next round… THE JUDGE, WILLIAM HEARFORD!” The old man releases the hold and quickly exits the ring, holding his side in pain after taking one too many kicks from the Silent One. Meanwhile, in the ring, Matty Kivell tries to revive the fallen Silent One… And Silent kips right back up to his feet. The crowd cheers a little, but falls into confused murmurs as the Silent One cracks a little smile across his face as he walks out as though nothing had happened to him. “… What was that?!” “I think, Bobbie, that Citizen Kibagami didn’t want to win that match.” “Why the hell not?” “No clue, but I’m sure we’ll find out about it soon enough. And stay tuned because we still have more tournament matches ahead on SWF LOCKDOWN!” *FADE TO BLACK*