Angel_Grace_Blue

lolz, BUTT secks.

You could've jobbed to Mr. the Doom, then. Doomtopian Title, ahoy! Also: The whole business with getting rid of a title can be tricky. The International belt is the only one without a restriction. Cruiser title, of course, has a weight limit, and hardcore must be defended under certain stipulations (Or, at least, it should). International, though, is more versatile in this respect, but, we've already got a title of that nature in the form of the world belt. Of course, if anything is going to be eliminated, maybe the tag straps should be first, as The New Doomtopians vs. Johnson and Manson MCVII doesn't sound like much fun. The New Doomtopians should win the belts first, though.

Much as people want to deny it, we're all Rommel's children. Just some more so than others.

It's that crazy Brit's birthday. Well, that's not really specific. AECAS SMASH CAKERY!

It needed more duck cocks. But that goes without saying.

So, yeah. Feedback, if anyone can force their way through it. Pelicans? Hell yes, pelicans! ------- As yet another video package for JJ Johnson vs. Landon Maddix fades to black on the SmarkTron, Edwin Starr's "War" blares through Alltel Stadium, but it can barely be heard over the cries of "Me so horny. Me love you long time. Sucky-sucky, five dollah" coming from around the ring. "You know, I'm really surprised at how quickly the ring was cleaned up," Mak notes. "Well, when you threaten the swine with beatings, it really improves the work rate," King points out. "True, but, still, Bruce Blank and Insane Luchador nearly killed each other. I just hope things don't repeat with this next match." "Yeah. It's odd that this one has been overshadowed by Blank versus Luchador and Spike versus Zyon. I mean, Wildchild and Jimmy the Doom flat-out hate each other, and yet, they aren't given free reign to go at it. They've got to duke it out in a straight singles match, but, it is for Wildchild's International title," King states. "I see the lack of a stipulation to be a precautionary measure. Joseph Peters probably wants to keep the extreme displays of violence at a minimum. And, of course, the reason being for the title match is that Jimmy defeated Kevin Coyote last week on Smarkdown, an impressive feat when you consider that Wildchild was the special guest referee. Somehow, Wildchild managed to control his emotions and didn't really showcase his hostility towards Doom, so tonight, they will hopefully end their aggression and we won't have to worry about what either man will do to each other before or after shows," Mak adds. "Speaking of Coyote, bit of a tough break for him. He loses on Smarkdown, and then doesn't even get booked for Battleground." "Tough break? That supposed to be some sort of joke?" Francis asks. "Oh, not really, but now that you point it out, I'll try to make fun of your condition a bit more. Will Jimmy the Doom be able to snap Wildchild's reign as International champion?" "Screw you, King." Before anything else can be said, the lights drop out of the stadium, and the heavy thump of many feet marching in unison rings out, along with a single word, chanted over and over. DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! The chanting and footfalls cease, and the lights snap back on, revealing druids stretching from the ring up to the entranceway. Boots Randolph's "Yaket Sax" sounds out over the speakers, prompting the arrival of the Straight-Breader himself, Jimmy the Doom. The Doomtopian walks down the ramp, an orange traffic cone perched on his cranium, and Lois the Unethical, as always, three steps behind, as is any woman's place. "Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall, and is for the Smartmark's Wrestling Federation International Title! Introducing first, being accompanied by Lois the Unethical, he is from Doomopolis, Doomtopia, and weighed in tonight at two hundred, twenty-five pounds. The Straight-Bread Sensation, JIIMMEEEE THE DOOOOOM!" Funyon bellows. The Doomtopian walks down the ramp, stops at the ring, and removes his cone. Jimmy slides into the ring, while Lois walks away from the ramp, knowing it wouldn't be wise to stand between the Straight-Breader and Wildchild. The instrumental delight of "Yakety Sax" fades out and is replaced with the far more contemporary and entertaining "Bouncin' Back" by Mystikal. Melissa Fasaki and Wildchild head down the ramp, championship belt slung on the Tropical Tumbler's right shoulder. "And his opponent, accompanied by Melissa Fasaki, he hails from Morgan's Bluff, Andros, Commonwealth of the Bahamas, and weighs two hundred, fourteen pounds. The current International champion, the Bahama Bomber, WIIIILDCHIIILD!" Funyon shouts. Arms outstretched to take in the cheers from the fans, Wildchild accidentally bumps into a druid, knocking the anonymous man into the smoldering husk of a shack, setting him ablaze. Undaunted, the champion gets to the ring and slips off his shin guards. Jimmy the Doom leans over the top rope, pointing at the Bahaman, and gesturing that the title will soon be his. Referee Paul Pugliese acts fast and pulls Doom away from the ropes, allowing the Human Hurricane to vault inside. Wildchild raises the title above his head, while Doom tries to close in on the champion, but is held back by Pugliese. The Tropical Tumbler drops the belt and heads for the Straight-Breader, eager to begin the match. "Man, things are getting very heated before the bell. I hope the referee can keep control of those two," Mak comments. "And I hope he can't. I want to see these two tear each other limb from limb. Not for any sadistic pleasure I might gain from it, but mostly because I think that both of them are major dorks," King replies. "Speaking of which, I heard some rumors that Doom hoped this match would be fought under hardcore rules so that he could envoke Wildchild's infamous Blood Frenzy, as it would be more of a challenge for the tough Doom," Francis adds. "That certainly would be something to see. So would you walking ever again." "You're a fucking dick, do you know that, King?" As the tension mounts at the commentator's table, it's nearly boiling over inside the ring, and the ref decides to call for the bell. DING! DING! DING! "And we are underway!" Mak shouts. As is his nature, Jimmy walks straight for Wildchild, but gets popped with a swift jab. Doom brushes it off, and nails the champion with a shotei. The Straight-Breader throws another pawing hand in the Bahaman's face, keeping Wildchild out of range. This would matter if Wildchild was slow, but Wildchild is far from it, and the speedster ducks under and peppers the Doomtopian with a trifecta of blows to the stomach. Wildchild quickly hops back out of range, leaving Jimmy to swing at thin air ('Thin air', of course, a term coined by Sir Thomas Meckwidthe, Duke of Havershire, in 1823, after he purported that peasants were malnourished because the air they breathed was lacking in substance. The upper-class, being better in every conceivable way, was entitled to the more substantial portion of the air. In fact, according to Meckwidthe, any peasent thought to be breathing upper-class air could be executed). The Caribbean Cruiser snaps off a kick to Doom's left leg, spins around, and brains him with a back elbow. Once more, the International champ scurries back to a safe distance after the assault, leaving Doom frustrated and humiliated at his inability to hit Wildchild. The Bahama Bomber feints a punch, then races for the ropes. He leaps onto the middle strand and flies backwards, slamming a knee into the Doomtopian's jaw. SYLLABICATE! The Straight-Bread Sensation takes a few steps backwards, but quickly composes himself and fires off a kick for Wildchild's head. The Tropical Tumbler drops to the mat, avoding the blow, but in doing so, opens himself up for Doom to blast him with a headbutt, which is exactly what happens. Jimmy slaps on a front facelock, and begins driving knees into the top of Wildchild's head. "If Jimmy the Doom can keep this up, this match will be over quickly. Grinding it out on the mat is not how Wildchild likes to fight," Mak notes. "True, but neither does Jimmy the Doom. He likes to stand up and kick a person's teeth out, while keeping his teeth firmly inside his own mouth," King points out. "Yeah, he can really take a lot of punishment, but with both men standing, Wildchild can just stick and move, preventing Jimmy from even getting close to touching him," Mak states. Wildchild manages to snare an incoming Doomtopian knee, hold on to it, and climbs up to his knees. The Tropical Tumbler yanks back, breaking the facelock, and putting Jimmy on his ass. The champion jumps, slaps on a headscissors, and takes Doom flat on the mat. Pugliese slides over to see if Doom wishes to submit, and is promptly waved off. Jimmy sits up, grabs Wildchild's feet, pulls them apart, and then clambers up. The Bahama Bomber kips up, but gets nailed with a palm to the face. Doom lands a second shotei, but a wheel kick prevents him from even throwing a third. Wildchild rushes the Doomtopian and plants both feet in his chest. The Human Hurricane wraps both arms around Jimmy's head, but the Straight-Breader grabs hold of Wildchild's singlet, blocking the monkey flip. Jimmy slowly inches his right hand towards Wildchild's throat while the other firmly grips the singlet, but the Caribbean Cruiser throws his legs up and across Doom's shoulders, locking on another headscissors. With a quick tug, Wildchild flips Doom to the mat. "Nice sequence of reversals there. Wildchild going for a monkey flip, blocked by Doom, who looked to be going for a Jimmy Bomb, but Wildchild saw it coming and countered with a nice hurricanrana," Mak says. "I liked that headscissors Wildchild had on earlier. It's the right idea, trying to get Doom to go to sleep, but it's just tough. I wouldn't be surprised if it took two Wild Rides to keep Jimmy the Doom down on the canvas," King adds. Wildchild kips back to his feet, and Jimmy is standing moments later. Doom snaps off a roundhouse, but Wildchild easily dodges, and fires off a gamengiri, catching Jimmy flush on the mouth. TRIPTYCH! The International champion circles behind the Doomtopian, and dashes for the ropes. Before Doom can begin to ponder the whereabouts of his opponent, Wildchild grabs Jimmy by the back of the head and flips over the Straight-Bread Sensation, driving him into the mat. Wildchild flips and twists, coming down laterally on top of Doom with an elbow to the head and a knee to the spine. The Human Hurricane bounds to his feet and hops to the top turnbuckle. Jimmy recovers quickly, rises, and turns to face Wildchild, who jumps off the top rope, hitting Doom square in the chest with a dropkick. "Shooting Star Dropkick from Wildchild! That Whiplash a few seconds earlier looked very nice, too," Francis states. "I guess it could be said that you've got a very bad case of whiplash," King chuckles. "I really hate you." "And I really love walking. My legs are awesome!" King exclaims. Wildchild gets back up, only to find Doom on his feet as well. Cursing under his breath, the Bahama Bomber heads for the ropes yet again. Wildchild jumps onto the middle rope, bounces to the top, and springs towards Doom, catching him with a front facelock. The champ pulls Jimmy around and down to the mat with a tornado DDT. Wildchild shoves Doom away and kips up. He doesn't remain standing for long, though, as the Tropical Tumbler flips forward to land on Doom's chest with all of his body weight. Wildchild stays down and hooks a leg as Paul Pugliese slides in to count the pin. ONE-No! "Not even a one count for Wildchild! How can he possibly hope to keep Jimmy the Doom down for a three count?" Mak questions. "I'm honestly not sure. Dumping him on his head would be the obvious answer, but I've seen it been tried with little effect. I swear, that moron is some kind of crappy cyborg," King says. "The buck-fifty man?" Francis inquires. "If that. Ninety-seven cent man." The Human Hurricane gets up to his feet and waits on Doom to do the same. Wildchild doesn't have to wait long, and the second Jimmy is back to a vertical base, the Straight-Bread Sensation gets nailed with a CALL ME NOW FOR YA FREE READIN' (LEG) LARIATOOOOO! DERMATITIS! Doom remains on his feet, though, so the Caribbean Cruiser decides to turn things up a notch. He sprints for the ropes, springs to the top strand, curls up, and flies back towards Jimmy. The Bahama Bomber collides with Jimmy, but the Doomtopian stands firm. Wildchild, on the otherhand, is looking up at Doom from the mat after the collision. Doom goes to stomp the Human Hurricane, but Wildchild scissors the raised leg, and drawing on his nonexistant breakdancing training, spins on his back, tripping Jimmy to the canvas. "It looks like Wildchild has a leglock on Jimmy the Doom! I know he recently added the Figure Four to his repetoire, but I'm not sure how versed he is in other leg-based submissions," Francis points out. "It might not matter all that much, Mak. Wildchild has some strong legs, so the vicelike grip, perhaps not enough to force a submission, will cause some damage. However, Jimmy the Doom has strong legs, too, as his kicks have some sting, so this might be a futile attempt on Wildchild's part, especially when you factor in Doom's amazing threshold for pain," King notes. Wildchild quickly abandons the scissorlock in order to manuever the hold into a single leg crab, but, much like a similarly handicapped crustacean, the hold is useless, as Doom lashes out with a kick to the back of Wildchild's left knee, knocking the International champion to the mat. Jimmy tries to roll over and make a cover, but Wildchild scrambles away from the Doomtopian and up to his feet. The Straight-Breader rises up, and his field of vision is instantly filled with a Bahaman leg, as the Tropical Tumbler nails Jimmy with a FINE CALYPSO WOMAN, SHE COOK ME SHRIMP AND RICE (LEG) LARIATOOOOO! FARINACEOUS! Doom stumbles, but remains standing from the blow. Wildchild kips back up to his feet, does a cartwheel to get in front of Jimmy, and then performs a back handspring, nailing the Doomtopian with an elbow smash to the jaw. The Straight-Bread Sensation staggers backwards, and the International champion gives chase, hitting Doom with a flying forearm. Jimmy bounces into the ropes and hangs on to stop himself from falling to the mat. Wildchild charges the Doomtopian and knocks him over the top rope with a dropkick. Luckily for Doom, he simply falls on the apron. Unluckily for Doom, that puts him in position to receive a springboard DDT to the arena floor, which he does. "That should definitely slow Jimmy the Doom down a bit!" Mak shouts. "A little bit," King retorts. "Doom probably still has a lot left in the tank." Wildchild climbs up and slides inside the ring, leaving referee Paul Pugliese to start counting out Jimmy. One! Two! The Human Hurricane speeds for the opposite set of ropes, streaks back towards the rising Doom, and leaps between the middle and bottom ropes, driving his skull into the Straight-Bread Sensation's jaw, and knocking Jimmy into the guard rail. "What a suicide dive! Wildchild looked like a bullet! Now that ought to take a lot out of Jimmy the Doom," Mak says. "Yes, but I bet it took a lot out of Wildchild, too," King points out. Pugliese restarts the count, as the possibility of a double count-out (And a crappy ending) now exists. One! Wildchild rolls away from Doom. Two! The Human Hurricane stumbles up to his feet and leans against the ring. Three! Jimmy uses the guard rail to pull himself up. Four! Wildchild slides into the ring, leaving the Doomtopian as the only one that can be counted out now. Five! Jimmy heads for the ring while the International champ leaps onto the top rope and sprints across it. Six! Wildchild reaches the corner and leaps for Doom, curling into a ball and smacking Jimmy in the torso. This, of course, forces Pugliese to start the count anew. "Andros Dive into a Pinball! That's simply incredible!" Francis yells. "You only think that because you can't even hop," King points out. "I'm going to kick your ass," Mak replies through gritted teeth. "That would require being able to use your legs," King notes. "Die." "What are you going to do then? Dance on my grave?" inquires the Heartbreaker. One! Wildchild drags himself away from Doom. Two! The International champion crawls towards the ring steps. Three! Jimmy the Doom reaches up and grabs hold of the ring skirting. Four! The Bahama Bomber pulls himself onto the bottom step. Five! Wildchild gets on the second step, while the Straight-Bread Sensation stands up on wobbly legs. Six! The Caribbean Cruiser reaches the top step, and rolls inside the ring. Seven! Doom pulls himself inside as well, ensuring that the match will continue, at least a little while longer. "That was close. I thought that this thing would end in a count-out. No way would such an ending stop the hostility between these two men," Francis says. "No doubt about that. A count-out would just mean that something like a Texas Deathmatch would have to be invoked for them to settle their differences," King adds. Jimmy climbs up to his feet, but Wildchild is already standing and peppers him with a combination of punches to the head. The Tropical Tumbler hops back out of Doom's reach, but the Straight-Breader is pretty punch drunk, so Wildchild leaps in the air and cracks him with a gamengiri. INCOMMUNICADO! The Doomtopian falls to his knees, but it only allows him to headbutt Wildchild in the stomach. The International champ hunches over, and gets cracked with a rising headbutt. Wildchild stumbles backwards, clutching his face, while Jimmy stands fully erect. Doom rushes towards the Tropical Tumbler and knocks him flat with a SEVERAL HURTINGS LARIAT WITH MANIED OF PAININGS DOUBLED BADNESSOOOOO! TUMESCENCE! The Straight-Bread Sensation falls on top of Wildchild, and referee Paul drops to count the pin. ONE! TW-No! "Shoulder up from Wildchild! That wasn't even a near fall," the Franchise states. "Well, Wildchild has been in control for most of the match, so it's not that surprising that he managed to kick out. Jimmy the Doom, though easily stronger than Wildchild, isn't really that strong," King points out. "True, King, but Wildchild has punished his own body with his high flying attacks. He might end up tiring himself out before really taking Doom out," Francis replies. The Straight-Breader pulls Wildchild up and hurls him into the ropes. Doom jumps and raises his right leg, but the Human Hurricane goes into a forward roll, bypassing the front kick completely. Wildchild pops to his feet, twirls around, and boots Jimmy in the gut. The Bahama Bomber leaps up and drops a leg across the Doomtopian's neck, driving him into the mat. The International champion races to the turnbuckles, springs to the top, and flies off, twisting around to land on top of Jimmy. "Caribbean Cutter and Andros Drop combo! What do you say, King, will this be enough for Wildchild to pick up the win?" Mak asks. "Are you kidding? It might get a full two count, and that's if Wildchild covers him right now," King states. The Caribbean Cruiser rolls Doom over and does just that, with Pugliese sliding in to count the pin attempt. ONE! TWO-No! "Told you so." "Yes, you did, King. Want a medal?" "No, Mak, I think I'll just reward myself with a nice pair of shoes, even though it's kind of silly, as I'll wear them out by walking around," King says. "I'm going to learn telekinesis, and use it to drop a whale on your fucking head," Francis replies. Wildchild stands up, and pulls Doom back to his feet. Jimmy fires off a shotei, catching Wildchild in the forehead. The Human Hurricane moves in close, and assaults the Doomtopian with a barrage of punches to the body and head, easily ducking and dodging Jimmy's retaliatory blows. The International champion begins breaking the Straight-Breader down with kicks to the legs and stomach, while continuing to land punch after punch to the head. Doom tries to connect with strikes of his own, but Wildchild either manages to avoid it, parry it, or hit Jimmy first, stopping the Doomtopian from even following through. After nearly two minutes of the attack, Jimmy is hunched over, shorter than Wildchild, who is planning on his next move. He doesn't get a chance to execute that move, as the Straight-Bread Sensation rises up with the best uppercut ever, knocking Wildchild backwards. OPPROBRIUM! Doom follows with a left cross, an uppercut-like elbow, and finally a downward spiking elbow to the top of Wildchild's head, staggering the champion. Jimmy snares the Bahama Bomber in a front facelock and drops backwards. "It looks like Jimmy the Doom is starting to mount a comeback. He's taken a lot of the best Wildchild can dish out, and just keeps on coming back for more. He's like the Terminator," Mak says. "So, the only way to stop him is dump him in a vat of molten steel? Interesting. We're going to Pittsburgh!" King shouts. Jimmy gets to his feet and walks to the turnbuckles. The Doomtopian climbs to the top rope and flings himself towards Wildchild. 'Towards Wildchild' and 'on Wildchild' being drastically different in the accuracy department, and the distinction being made due to Jimmy's lack of accuracy. He missed and/or Wildchild moved out of the way for the slow to catch on. The Human Hurricane picks himself up, and then does the same for his opponent. Wildchild snares Jimmy in a front facelock and hoists the Doomtopian off the mat. The Tropical Tumbler spins the Straight-Breader around and drops him to the mat. "I know Wildchild usually performs a corkscrew vertical suplex, but that looked more like a corkscrew brainbuster," Mak points out. "Good plan, if you ask me. Dump that freak on his head a few more times and see if he pops up again," King says. Wildchild picks Doom off the mat once more, and whips Jimmy into the corner. The Human Hurricane follows the Straight-Breader in and jumps, sandwiching Doom between the turnbuckles and Wildchild himself. "Nice Blue Crush from the International champion. He can do a lot right now with Jimmy the Doom trapped in the corner," Mak says. "Yeah, like take Doom to the top turnbuckle and drop him outside the ring," King offers. Wildchild appears to be following King's advice, as he lifts Doom up and sets him on the top turnbuckle. The Bahama Bomber springs onto the middle rope, wraps his hands around Jimmy's head, and pulls him off the top buckle with a neckbreaker. Wildchild pops back up and leaps to the top rope. He jumps off and crashes on top of the Doomtopian. Wildchild hooks Jimmy's legs and referee Paul slides in to count the pin. ONE! TWO! TH-No! "Barely a two count for Wildchild after a senton splash and that Neck Wrecker. I'm starting to agree with you, King. Wildchild should just hit the Wild-Driver about a dozen times, and then go for the pin," Mak says. "On top of a chair," King adds. "And from the top rope." "To the outside." "Doom would still probably kick out just before three," Francis points out. "That rat bastard," King grumbles. Wildchild stands up and walks away from Jimmy, either in an effort to catch his breath, plan his next move, or as a precautionary measure to prevent himself from flipping out over his inability to put the Doomtopian away. The Straight-Bread Sensation climbs up and catches Wildchild heading for him. Doom steps up to meet the Tropical Tumbler, and lifts Wildchild off the mat. Jimmy spins the International champion upside down, then rightside up before dropping Wildchild across his knee. Doom sweeps the Caribbean Cruiser's legs out from under himself with a kick, and, with Wildchild seated on the mat, Jimmy nails his opponent in the face with a roundhouse. PANACEA! "What a kick from Jimmy the Doom! That's a lot like the end to Doomsday, but I don't think that roundhouse alone will be enough to finish off Wildchild," Mak says. "Well, you've got to remember that nasty tilt-a-whirl inverted atomic drop that preceded it. That, uh, could really make the difference," King replies, trying desperately to hold in his laughter. "Let's see how much you'd Jimmy the Doom smashing you in the crotch with his knee," the Franchise points out. "Least I can feel my crotch," Applewhite shoots back. "You'd be the only one that does." "On a daily basis. Wait...damn you, Francis." Doom flops on top of Wildchild and Paul Pugliese dives to the canvas to count the pinfall. ONE! TWO! THR-No! "Kick out from Wildchild! That was honestly a bit closer than I expected, so Wildchild obviously has to pick up the pace if he wants to walk out of Battleground still the International champion," Mak says. "And of course, you won't be walking out of Battleground at all, nor anywhere else, for that matter. Or into somewhere," King replies. "I'll run you over with this damn chair," Francis grumbles. The Straight-Bread Sensation hauls Wildchild off the mat and rockets him into the ropes. Doom gives chase and leaps, but so does Wildchild, and despite the six inch height advantage, the Tropical Tumbler can jump higher than Jimmy. This results in Wildchild blasting Doom with a DAT MAN AIN'T CHA BABY'S DADDY, SO DON'T BE HANGIN' ROUND 'IM NO MORE, I KNOW BECAUSE DA CARDS DON'T LIE (LEG) LARIATOOOOO! PANEGYRIC! However, it would seem that Doom doesn't put much stock in tarot, and remains on his feet. Nostrils flaring angrily, Wildchild whips around and buries a foot in Jimmy's gut. The International champion jumps up and crashes his legs across the Straight-Bread Sensation's neck, driving him into the mat. "Carribean Cutter, and I think Wildchild is back in control," Mak states. "It's looked that way often in this match, but Jimmy the Doom is still fighting back, so, let's wait next time before jumping to a conclusion. Of course, you've got a long wait before you can jump anywhere," King notes, chuckling. Wildchild picks the groggy Doom up, boots him in the stomach, and spins around, slamming his back into Jimmy's head. The Caribbean Cruiser hooks Jimmy's arms and tries to turn him over, but Doom blocks it. Wildchild makes another attempt, but the Doomtopian stays solid. The Straight-Breader starts to lift Wildchild off the mat by straightening up, but the International champion flails his legs and leans forward, pulling Jimmy back down. Wildchild doesn't stop at just being back on the mat, but keeps on going, driving Doom's skull into the canvas. FRIPPERY! "Wild-Driver! Wildchild was going for the Wild Ride, and I can't recall the last person that kicked out of it, but Doom nearly reversed it, but Wildchild countered the reversal with the Wild-Driver! Could this be enough?" the Franchise inquires. "I think we've gone over this, several time, and the answer is no. Seven more and we'll talk about it," King says. Wildchild obviously feels differently, and makes a lateral press. ONE! TWO! THREE-No! "Kick out! Doom got a shoulder up after the Wild-Driver! He almost landed directly on top of his skull, but he still managed to kick out!" Francis exclaims. "And, yet, you landed on top of your head, and you haven't moved anything but your mouth and bowels since then." The Human Hurricane picks Doom off the mat and attempts an Irish whip, but Jimmy lashes out with a jab to the throat. Wildchild stumbles backwards, gasping for breath, while the Straight-Breader closes the distance and smacks Wildchild with a shotei. Jimmy snaps off another palm strike, and then slips behind the International champion. Doom snakes his right arm around Wildchild's face and pulls him backwards, while he hooks the Tropical Tumbler's left leg with the corresponding arm. The Doomtopian hoists Wildchild off the mat and falls back. Jimmy shifts positions and makes a lateral press while keeping Wildchild's leg hooked. ONE! TWO! THRE-No! "Kick out from Wildchild! He got caught offguard with that Hand of Doom, and Jimmy followed it up with a Doom Driver, nearly getting the three count, and of course, the International title," Francis says. "If Doom can remain in control of this match, it shouldn't take much more to put Wildchild away. Hell, kick him in the head maybe two more times and he might be out," King adds. Doom picks Wildchild off the mat and smacks him with a double palm strike to the chest. Jimmy stalks after the International champion, but Wildchild bounds forward and jumps, knocking the Straight-Bread Sensation down with a COME MISTER TALLY MAN, TALLY ME BANANA, DAYLIGHT COME, AND ME WANNA GO HOME (LEG) LARIATOOOOO! SEMAPHORE! "And just as you say that, the match swings back to Wildchild's favor," the Franchise notes. "Interesting. I hope Mak Francis tap dances right now! Hey, whaddya know, it works! I can cause the exact opposite of whatever I say happen. I must use my powers only for good," King says, laughing. Wildchild kicks the downed Straight-Breader in the head before sprinting to the ropes. Dominic LeCroix hops to the top strand and springs backwards while flipping forwards. The Tropical Tumbler flies across the ring and lands in a heap on top of his Doomtopian opponent. Wildchild stays down, and Paul Pugliese dives to the mat to count the pin attempt. ONE! TWO! THREE!--NO! "I cannot believe it! Jimmy the Doom just kicked out of the Falling Star Press! Wildchild must be thinking about just forgetting about being honorable, and pummel Doom with a chair for half an hour," the Franchise mutters. "I'd approve of such an action. Hell, I'd lend him the chair," King says. Wildchild climbs up to his feet and tries arguing with Pugliese, but gives up, as he knows that losing his temper won't win him the match. The Human Hurricane shuffles over to the turnbuckles and hops to the top. He turns back to the ring, only to find Jimmy nearly on his feet. Wildchild drops back to the mat and races towards Doom, who, in turn, heads for the International champion. Wildchild jumps up and puts his feet in the Doomtopian's chest, while grabbing Jimmy by the back of the head. The Bahama Bomber flips the Straight-Bread Sensation over and into the corner. "Monkey flip from Wildchild, and Jimmy the Doom is in real trouble now. He's stuck in the tree of woe. Granted, I don't know how much Wildchild will take advantage of Doom's situation, but with the frustration Jimmy's been causing him, I wouldn't be surpised if Wildchild went after him," Mak says. "I'm impressed at how much of a run-on sentence that was, especially when you consider that you can't run, period." "Two things: One, fuck you. Two, how do you know I didn't have a full stop just then?" Mak asks. "Well, the thing is, your mother," King points out. Wildchild turns around, runs at Doom, and slides for his head. Jimmy pulls himself up to a sitting position on the top turnbuckle, and Wildchild springs to his feet on the apron. The Caribbean Cruiser stuns Doom with two quick jabs, then leaps on the top rope. Wildchild jumps over the Straight-Bread Sensation, grabs him around the waist, and slams him into the mat. The International champ tosses his legs over Doom's arms, and Pugliese falls to the mat to count the pin. ONE! TWO! THREE! Paul springs to his feet and holds up two fingers, signifying that the match will go on! "What? He didn't kick out! What the hell is going on? Wildchild hit the Bahama Bomb, and Jimmy the Doom never moved his shoulders!" Mak screams. "He didn't have to. Doom was too close to the ropes and got hold of the bottom one. Rope break, Mak, rope break," King explains. "Don't you even try and spin 'rope break' into something about my broken neck," Francis grumbles. "I would never do such a thing! Give me some credit, Mak. Do I look like the kind of person to kick another man while he's down?" King asks. "You did it all the time, and continue to do so." "Yeah, I am pretty great that way," Applewhite beams. Slowly, Wildchild climbs to his feet, wracking his brain at what to do next. LeCroix leans agains the ropes, not wanting to exert himself in bringing Doom back up. Jimmy finally makes it off the mat, and Wildchild springs into action, as well as the air, looking for a MY GIRL'S NAME IS SENORA, I TELL YOU FRIENDS I ADORE HER, AND WHEN SHE DANCES, OH BROTHER, SHE'S A HURRICANE IN ALL KINDS OF WEATHER (LEG) LARIATOOOOO! but the Doomtopian catches Wildchild, stumbles backwards, and dumps the Bahama Bomber throat-first across the top rope. Wildchild bounces off, staggers around, and gets taken to the mat with a bulldog. Jimmy flips Wildchild over and makes his way to the corner. "Doom with a hotshot counter to that leg lariat Wildchild had been hitting all night at will. And, it looks like Jimmy is heading up top for the Jimmy's Jump," Mak states. "I'm not sure it'll be enough to get the win if he can hit it, though," King notes. Doom climbs to the top turnbuckle and leaps off, flipping forward on his way down. The Straight-Breader goes a full four hundred, fifty degrees, landing a devastating headbutt to the canvas. Wildchild doesn't bother getting up, but rolls Doom over and drapes an arm across his chest. ONE! TWO! THREE! NO! "Shoulder up! I'm glad this match didn't end because Doom missed Jimmy's Jump. I know Doom and Wildchild wouldn't accept such a finish and would keep going after one another in the weeks to come," Mak says. "Oh, no doubt about that, Mak. It's going to take something really definitive for this to end between Wildchild and Jimmy the Doom. However, if Wildchild wins the match, the fact that Doom's taken nearly everything dished out in stride could mean that things might not end tonight," King points out. "I'm not sure about that. Both men have given their all, and I can't imagine either one still holding anything against the other if it ends legitimately. Besides, what else could end things between these two, short of something drastic like a Loser Leaves the Federation match." "I bet Wildchild wouldn't be adverse to something like that. He's got a pretty good record in those matches, if I remember correctly," King replies. Wildchild slowly climbs up, joined moments later by Doom. The Tropical Tumbler shove Jimmy into the ropes and follows after the Doomtopian. Jimmy springs into the air and plants his foot on Wildchild's chest, knocking him to the mat. TENDENTIOUS! Jimmy pulls Wildchild up and knees him in the stomach. Doom takes hold of the Caribbean Cruiser's head and starts to bend him over, but Wildchild breaks Jimmy's grip. The International champion tries to back away, but Jimmy knocks Wildchild down with a diving IMMEDIATION LACKED WITH A PAINFULS LARIAT, SEVERAL OF BRAINING TO FUNCTIONED, BY CEASEDOOOOO! CNIDARIAN! "Nice lariat from Jimmy the Doom after Wildchild blocked that Doom Factor attempt," Mak comments. "Had Doom managed to hit the Doom Factor, I'd be willing to bet that Wildchild wouldn't be able to kick out," King says. The Straight-Bread Sensation grabs Wildchild by the wrist and yanks him back up. Doom twists the International champion's arm around and drives a knee into Wildchild's gut. Jimmy moves in front of the Human Hurricane, lifts one leg off the mat, and jumps, kicking Dominic LeCroix in the chin with his previously planted foot. UNGULATE! Wildchild's knees buckle, and Jimmy helps the International champion out with two kicks to the legs, dropping him to his knees. The Straight-Bread Sensation sizes Wildchild up and unleashes a roundhouse to the Bahama Bomber's face, sending him crashing backwards to the mat. PAUCITY! "Doomsday! I can't see Wildchild kicking out of this, especially with the Yak Kick included, and that flying snap kick preceding it," Mak says. "Stranger things have happened, such as Toxxic kipping up after the MI Slam, but I agree with you, there's no chance for Wildchild to kick out. The only shot he has is if Melissa Fasaki interferes, but she's probably all for honor or something stupid," King mutters. Jimmy the Doom falls on top of Wildchild and hooks the Human Hurricane's legs. Referee Paul Pugliese drops down on all fours and counts the pin. ONE! TWO! THREE! Pugliese climbs to his feet and signals for the bell. DING! DING! DING! "Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this match, and NEW International champion, the Straight-Bread Sensation, JIIIMMEEEE THE DOOOOM!" Funyon roars. Lois the Unethical slides into the ring as Pugliese takes the belt from Funyon and passes it to Doom. Jimmy embraces Lois while "Yakety Sax" plays over the speakers. "Doom wins! What a war that was, and hopefully, the animosity between Jimmy the Doom and Wildchild will end right now," Mak says hopefully. "I'm typically not one for peace, love, unity, and other assorted hippy crap, but I think the hatred these two men shared is over," King adds. Melissa Fasaki tentatively enters the ring to comfort Wildchild, but Doom steps between the two. Jimmy lifts the Tropical Tumbler off the mat and they shake hands. Wildchild raises the Straight-Breader's arm in the air as a promotional video for 'Hollywood' Spike Jenkins versus Zyon in a street fight engulfs the SmarkTron.

We should have made fun of Mike's song, which, it seems, all of us have heard. Then again, it'd be far too easy.

The New Doomtopians are a tag team. And stuff. With two different people. And stuff.

Good thing R. Lee Emery, and not Ermey was in that Stephens/Skye, because, 1. Ermey would have been far more foul-mouthed, and 2. Even at 62, Ermey probably could kick Amy's face off. Maybe. Also, hey, I am lose matchumz.

Me, outside my mind? Surely not, good sir. Now, I must be off, for the giant manta rays of Iowa are requesting my presence at their bake sale. No giraffe can resist my turnip cake with bits of string on top. Because they're from Latvia, you see.

I suggest WC moves in with Raynor and then wacky hijinks ensue. "Chris, it's your turn to take out the trash." "I'm marking your match. You take it out." "Damn you...." And they should podcast these hijinks.

Honestly, though, when's the last time a PPV went up within, say, 12 hours of the deadline? Yay for tape delays!

Huzzah Betemit.

Pfft. My mom's a robot ninja from the future in outer space. She'd destroy your mother in a second with her mad skillz.

6400-ish, and I'm pretty much done, except, of course, the proof read and subsequent padding. I'm really trying to force a lot of false tension and build into this match. Not sure why.

Hey, I never came up with the points allocation. I do remember back in the day when someone would go with like, 1 charisma, 1 speed, 5 vitality, and 13 strength. Those wacky kids.

ISSUE ONE: NEW BOOKING FORMULA? I'd be interested in trying this out, maybe. I think that allowing someone to be on multiple 'rosters' would help. And besides, the kids love those House Rules matches. ISSUE TWO: THE USUAL 1. Should we lower word limits? Hmm. I say no, because I rarely have to trim down my matches, and writing a good chunk under the limit hasn't really been that bad, at least for me. So, yeah. Pantsery. 2. For anyone not having fun - why the hell aren't you? What can we do to make this fun again? Here are a few things that I think would help increase funosity: I. Don't feel the need to make sure every single person is booked in a match for a show. There have been a few matches I've no-showed basically because the booker flat out said "Well, you two are fighting because, because." In a few PPVs, the unbooked riff-raff get put in a multi-person match, with a #1 contendership for a title on the line, and I think that's good. Otherwise, I don't see a crime in leaving someone off a show every once in a while. II. I would like to see a lower midcard-ish belt that's specifically instated for wacky stips. I don't consider the HCG belt for this spot, as a Mall Brawl and Damnation in a Box aren't quite the same. Wacky stips help the fun. IIb. Guest-booker cards could help this out, especially if the guest-booker hasn't paid attention in months, and doesn't care (Read: Thoth). Wacky to the maxy. III. This perhaps isn't quite in the "make more funz" area, but it's something I've been thinking about. To me (And, it's probably due to my flaws as a writer), but charisma seems kind of useless, in terms of writing a match. If you've got a higher strength stat, you can smash the other guy's face. Faster, and you can flip and flop and whatnot. More vitalized, and you can say "Pfft. That TOW missile barely hurt my face, which is currently in chunks". But, to me, being more charismatic doesn't help. "I can't punch his face, he's too charming." Of course, someone will probably say "Well, the fans would be more behind a more charismatic person, and then he/she would draw on that", to which I say "Pfft." I think I've lost my point/train of thought, but, uh, yeah. We need more manatees as US senators. ISSUE THREE: d00d, u r such a n00b We needs us some fresh meat. Sooner would be better than later. X-Net fell through, partially because SWF CC is lazy (present company included), and partially because X-Net wasn't all that great to us anyway. So what else can we try? I kind of suggested to Raynz0r that we should try and make our own inter-fed thing, but, we're a lazy bunch. I also mentioned that we could invade the Oat Toast and yoink the semi-talented writers, but, I mean, it's the Oat Toast. Also, I'm inclined to say we try and wait things out a bit, as not only is summer approaching, but, shit, there have been scares of limited rosters since forever just about, and yet, we keep on trucking along. So long as Jayson Grant's pact with Satan (The hockey goalie) remains, we should be fine. CRAP. I SHOULD HAVE BEEN WRITING MY MATCH INSTEAD OF THIS THING. OH WELLS.

Something around 3600, and hopefully, I'm just starting to reach the middle. 8-ish k sounds about right, so, like most of my matches, I'll fall short at around 7250. Might beef up the beginning some, though. Hork!

Match of the Night: Hmm. Spike v Zyon has potential, but it's not like I'll read any of the matches. Skimming to the end is my style. Runner-up Match of the Night: One of the matches a Cross is in. SWF World Heavyweight Championship Match JJ Johnson vs. Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix JJ am no show, lolz. Eh, give it to the kickboxing mime. STREET FIGHT "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins vs. Zyon Spike kicks the shit out of Zyon the whole match and winz0rs. SWF International Championship Match Wildchild © vs. Jimmy the Doom Pfft. Double Sea all the way. GRUDGE MATCH Bruce Blank vs. Insane Luchador IL, baby. Fuvolution AND ML Pride! SWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP - AIR RAID MATCH "The Divine Wind" Akira Kaibatsu © vs. Grendel vs. Stryke vs. Austin Sly Oof. I like Sly, so I'll go with him. Amy Stephens © vs. Megan Skye Miss Innit Jay Hawke vs. Manson © Mr. OSITY Let's Get Everyone Booked II! Michael Cross vs. Sean Davis Other Crossy Let's Get Everyone Booked! David Cross vs. Christian Fury Crossy

He should put on 60 pounds and take on Slyvia.

Hopefully that will mean that Kendall will be one of the few that doesn't drop down in weight after the show like a lot of past competitors have done. However, a guy 6'4" at 170 is amusing to me. Not saying he'd be great, just saying it would be hilarious to see him take on a guy that comes up to his navel or something.

Oh noes, Ross got caught in a 'silly submission'. Maybe he should work on that for next time.

Ken's a genius coach. Point out a person's ground game sucks balls, but not provide a way to improve it? FUCKING BRILLIANT. Wait, no, that's retardulated.

Well, how often is half of that 6k a song by Evanescene? Besides, 6k of talking about yourself, your dead girlfriend, the time your parents got drunk and threw acid on you when you were 15, and 6k of semi-decent psychology with semi-decent flow is different. I AM TEH GREETESTS! MUNCH! MUNCH! Oh noez, Kad Culls, yur sexays! MUNCH! MUNCH! I'll actually answer this thing later.

What happens if there is a tie? I assume the answer is Raynor screams, rips his hair out, smashes his head into a wall, weeps for an hour, and then flips a coin.