Angel_Grace_Blue

SWF of the SWF open for anything. Wackiness okay. No kids.

Whatever are you talking about? Silly bird.

Come on K, you know I'm just joking. Besides, better me saying it as a joke than Z saying it and actually meaning it. Go buy some Watson 310 Mafia, then. They rock.

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO TOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!! Blargledyargyle for ever!! BLARGLEDYARGYLE!!!!!!!! TOM AMZ TEH AWESOME!!!

Toxxic, you silly man. It's obviously Chris Storm. Am I right? Am I right? No? Then what about CHRIS SMASH!!!

I AMZ COMMENT ON SLY'S MATCH SINCE HE YELLED AT ME TO DO SO!! - Yay for witch burning!! Another yay for blood sport!! - Hi everybody! Hi, referee Nick! - Light tube? I was hoping it was a tiny kitten wrapped in the blanket. Then again, a kitten doesn't make for a good object to bash people in the face. - Yay for wacking of weeds! - Bah @ not using a "retardent" joke with the fire extinguisher. - Blood sport! Overall, it was short, and seemed kind of rushed. And though it was a hardcore match, there could have been more actual wrestling, all things considered. But, it was entertaining. BLOOD SPORT!! More comments on other matches pending. Or not coming at all. Who knows?

Get some RUSH.

Quiet Mark. We all know they didn't invent computers until after you graduated anyway. Silly.

Kids? You're like four years older than him. You silly bird. But anyway, sorry that you'll be away for GV and everything. You should just take a weedwhacker to the professors and then we'll see if you have time.

Happy motherfucking birthday to that motherfucker, Kibagami. Motherfucker. In celebration of his birthday, I shall repost the comic I made about him.

Zed already told me that my lack of an actual finish really hurt me, but I want to post this match regardless. Yay! SWF Storm comes back from another commercial with a blast of pyrotechnics because the kids today have the attention span of...BUTTERFLY! YAY PRETTY BUTTERFLY!!! Anyway, cameras pan around the Joe Louis Arena and come to rest in front of Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley, both oblivious that they’re back on the air, and facing each other, engaged in deep conversation. “So then I sez to Mabel, I sez...” Comet begins before his left eye moves of its own volition and focuses on the camera. “Uh...WELCOME BACK TO STORM!!” he shouts, hoping that the idiot children will forget about the lapse in professionalism. “We’ve had quite a show so far, haven’t we Robert?” Comet asks. “Indeed we have. Two thirds of Revolution Zero have been in action, as has two thirds of the Urban Empire. Todd Cortez took on Spike Jenkins and Mike Van Siclen faced Sean Davis. ACTION PACKED!” Riley screams. “Yes, very action packed, Robert. And now we’re going to take a bit of break from this Revolution Zero-Urban Empire gang war with Andrea Montgomery taking on Austin Sly. But first, I’m curious about something, Bobby,” Comet says. “Bi-curious?” Riley asks hopefully. “Sweet zombie Jesus, no! I’m curious as to what you’ve been up to since we last met for Lockdown on Monday” Comet states. “Glad you asked, Comet. I trained all this week, and I’m able to list every SWF world heavyweight champion in less than half a second. Now just listen closely...RAA!!” Riley yelps, looking pleased with himself. “Honestly, Robert, that was simply a loud yelping noise,” Comet states. Before Riley has a chance to make a rebuttal...heh, rebuttal...Funyon enters the ring, ready to make the introductions. The arena is bathed in a blue tint as a hard riff is played on an acoustic guitar. Before any more notes can be heard, a mixture of cheers and jeers drown out every other sound, including two marriage proposals, one revelation of adultery, and worst of all, three beer orders. Austin Sly steps out from behind the curtain and beings his prematch stretches at the end of the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, hailing from Saint Louis, Missouri, and weighing in at two hundred, thirty pounds, AUUUSTIIIN SLY!!” Sly walks down the ramp, hops on to the apron and enters the ring via the space between the middle and top ropes. Sly stretches a bit more and turns to face the entranceway, waiting for Andrea Montgomery. The lights dim and the stage area is rocked by a blast of pyro, but one misfires, resulting in a horribly unlucky fan being engulfed in flames. Flailing his arms, he screams for help, but is ignored as he’d been talking non-stop about how bad the previous matches had been, how lame the card was, and just bad-mouthing the SWF in general, not to mention he was lamenting that Ash Ketchum is not competing any longer. A green glow encompasses the entire arena as No Doubt’s “Just a Girl” plays over the speakers. “And his opponent, coming all the way from Biloxi, Mississippi, wearing shoes no less, and weighing in at one hundred, forty-three pounds, AAANDRREAAA MONTGOMERRRY!!” Funyon booms out. Andrea steps out and poses for the fans on the entranceway before walking down the ramp. “That was a bit of a cheap shot from Funyon against Andrea Montgomery,” Comet notes. “Oh, I don’t think so. I mean, she’s from Mississippi! They only amended the part about slavery being legal in the state constitution like fifteen years ago!” Riley shouts. Montgomery apparently did not happen to hear Funyon’s jibe, and walks down the ramp, greeting fans on her way to the ring. Drea hops over the ring ropes and stares at Sly as he stares back. Nick Soapdish verifies that neither competitor has a foreign object, and calls for the bell. DING! DING! DING! Sly and Andrea circle each other, trying to find something to exploit. Andrea lashes out with a kick and connects, but Sly absorbs the blow and swings towards Drea, landing with a punch to the jaw. Andrea reels backwards then lets two quick kicks fly, both nailing Austin in the chest before Sly retaliates with a palm thrust. “Nice flurry of strikes from both Andrea Montgomery and Austin Sly. However, it looks like Andrea is landing two, maybe more, hits for each of Austin’s,” Comet notes. “Yeah, but Sly is a lot stronger than Andrea,” Riley points out. “Too true, Robert. I wish we had some kind of meter that would tell us how much longer either competitor can last,” Comet muses. “You mean like a life bar? That’s insane. Do you think this is a video game? Huh? Cause it’s not, man! It’s real life, man! It’s as real as Vietnam, man, and I lost my leg in that damn war, man!” Riley shouts. “What? You’re not old enough, and even if you were, you have both legs,” Comet says, very confused. “Well...er...I uh...whittled this leg out of a tree. See?” Riley says while pulling up the leg of his pants, revealing a very wooden leg. “I’ve got wood!” laughs Bobby. Montgomery ducks a wild swing from Sly, darts for the ropes and launches herself at Sly, knocking him down with a dropkick. Andrea gets to her feet moments prior to Sly and she sends Austin back down to the mat with a DDT. Drea gets back up, bounces off the ropes, and performs a front handspring, finishing with a phoenix splash! Drea rolls Sly over and makes a pin attempt. ONE! T...NO! Sly manages to kick out, sending Montgomery flying off of him. Austin gets to his feet, turns around and is greeted with a heel kick to the mouth. Sly staggers backwards before leaping at Andrea, catching her off-guard with a double leg takedown. Austin snakes one arm around Andrea’s right ankle and turns her over, cinching in a single leg crab. “Andrea Montgomery with a near fall from that phoenix splash, but Austin Sly has changed the pace up a bit with a crab,” Comet says. “A crab? How can you have just one crab? It must be huge!” Riley guffaws. “Breaking news, ladies and gentlemen! I’m getting word that there’s a man backstage who’s bypassed security, and from the sound of it, is trying his damnedest to get out to the ring. I’m not sure who he is or what he wants, but I hope that he’ll be stopped before he accomplishes whatever goal he’s got,” Comet says, ignoring Riley’s idiotic joke. “Hopefully he won’t be like that crazy guy who screwed up the men’s marathon. Man that guy was whacked out,” Riley says. Soapdish scrambles around Sly to look Andrea in the face and see is she’ll submit, but Drea waves him off. Andrea doesn’t even think about trying to crawl to the ropes as she knows Sly is far too strong for her, so she instead attempts to wriggle free somehow. Andrea moves towards Sly, using her hands to support herself. Drea reaches back, grabs Sly by the leg and pulls, sending both to the mat. Andrea quickly gets back up, having locked Sly in a sharpshooter. “Nice technical display from Andrea Montgomery, reversing that single leg crab into a sharpshooter!” Comet shills. “There’s no way she’ll be able to get the win with it, though. Sly’s pretty strong for a cruiser. Plus, it looks like he’s aiming to reverse that sharpshooter into something of his own,” Riley states. Riley speaks correctly, as Sly twists his body, reaches for Andrea’s legs, and pulls her down. Austin rolls through and locks on a Buffalo Sleeper! Andrea flails her limbs desperately, trying to escape. Being as it is still very early in the match, Andrea manages to rise to her feet and jumps up. Drea body scissors Sly and sends him to the mat. In the tangle of limbs, Andrea manages to lock in an Indian Deathlock, while somewhere, Rob Scott weeps. “Nice counter from Sly into that Buffalo Sleeper, but Andrea Montgomery, also knowledgeable in the technical aspect, counters his counter with an Indian Deathlock!” Comet shouts. “No doubt the Indian Deathlock is dangerous, but Austin Sly should manage to break free of it. I mean, he was trained by NTD! He’s a legend!” Riley screams. Sly writhes in pain, but keeps his bearings enough to notice an opportunity. He manages to roll over and apply a Gedo Clutch! Soapdish lunges to the mat to make the count. ONE! TWO! T...NO! Andrea manages to get a shoulder up! Sly pushes Andrea away and steps back to catch his breath. Andrea slowly gets to her feet, but Sly rushes her and drops her to the mat with a double arm DDT. Austin keeps his hands locked on Montgomery’s arms, rises to his feet, turns, and sends Andrea to the mat with a backslide pin! ONE! TWO! TH...NO! Andrea manages yet another kick out. Sly gets to his feet, lifts Andrea up and sends her into the ropes. Drea bounces back and leaps over a bent double Sly, who was possibly looking for a back body drop. Andrea dashes for the opposite set of ropes, bounces off and waistlocks Sly. Austin runs forward, hits the ropes chest-first and Andrea goes for a roll up, but Sly rolls through before Soapdish can make a one-count. Andrea rolls again, putting her in position to pin Sly. Austin rolls forward, but halfway through, Andrea rolls backwards. The rollings stops here with a yelp of pain from Sly, as Andrea has managed to apply a figure four leglock! “Andrea with the figure four after that exchange of roll ups,” Comet says. “Come on, Austin, reverse it! Counter it with something, anything! Don’t let that wench get the better of you!” Riley shouts. Sly lays down to alleviate the pressure, but the remembers that his shoulders are touching the mat and sits up before Soapdish has a chance to count the pin. Sly shifts his weight and rolls over, putting the pressure on Andrea’s legs instead. Before he has a chance to take advantage of the situation, Andrea keeps rolling, putting Austin back in his original position. Austin rolls over again, but Andrea rolls yet another time, not noticing that they were at the edge of the ring after Sly’s latest roll. Andrea and Austin, locked together, fall off the mat, but they both grab the bottom rope and pull themselves back into the ring. Sly rolls in the other direction and puts his hands on the mat, stopping Andrea from turning Sly over. “Wow, that was quite an exchange of reversals. That part where they went out of the ring was incredible!” Comet says. “And now Austin Sly has Andrea Montgomery trapped in that inverted figure four, and I think it will be a short time until Andrea taps out,” Riley says confidently. Andrea pushes herself off the mat and with a mighty heave, rolls over, putting Sly on his back. Sly leans forward, grabs Andrea’s legs and pulls, trying to free himself from the leglock. Drea reaches forward, grabs Sly around the head and rolls backwards, pulling Sly with her. The two cruisers continue to roll, ultimately bouncing off the ropes and rolling in the opposite direction. Friction comes into play, though, and they come to a stop in the middle of the ring, Andrea locked in a grounded octopus hold! Andrea thrashes her arms and legs, trying to find some form of escape. Andrea reaches out with her free hand, grabs Sly’s arm, and shifts her weight, trapping Austin in the Strangle Hold Alpha! “Strangle Hold Alpha out of that grounded octopus hold! Amazing display of technical genius from these two. Just incredible,” Comet says in awe. “Sure, whatever. COME ON AUSTIN! SHE’S A GIRL! A GIRL!!” Riley screams in an attempt to encourage Sly. Soapdish stares at Sly, asking if he’ll submit. Austin shakes his head and in desperation, manages to roll Andrea up in a small package! Nick Soapdish darts over to make the count. ONE! TWO! THRE...NO!! Andrea manages to kick out. She and Austin both rise very slowly, tired after their many exchanges, counters, and reversals, to a huge applause from the crowd for the wrestling clinic they just put on. Austin barely acknowledges the fans, but Andrea makes great efforts to bow with a great flourish to each side of the ring. Austin runs at Montgomery, but she catches him out of the corner of her eye, leaps, and nails Sly with a heel kick to the jaw. Andrea knocks Sly down with another jumping heel kick and capitalizes with a front flip senton. Andrea hooks Austin’s leg and Soapdish drops to make the count. ONE! TWO! T...NO! Sly gets a shoulder up. Andrea pulls Austin up, and it looks like she wants to end the match as she whips Sly to the ropes. Drea heads for the opposite set, bounces off and drops into a forward roll. Montgomery pops up, snakes her arms around Austin’s head, cradles his jaw against her shoulder, and falls to her knees, knocking Austin Sly senseless with the Tuckerman and Roll! “Tuckerman and Roll from Andrea Montgomery! That usually sets up the Done and Dusted, and if Andrea Montgomery can hit that on Austin Sly, she’ll have this match all but wrapped up!” Comet exclaims. “No way! She can’t! She’s a GIRL!!” Riley shouts in protest. Andrea pulls Sly to his feet, places her left leg behind Sly’s left, then snakes it back around to complete the double grapevine. Andrea attempts to hook Austin’s arms, but Sly grabs Andrea by the wrists. Andrea manages to free herself from Sly’s decidedly non-Kung Fu grip, and finally manages to get control of both of Austin’s arms. Andrea looks around at the crowd, then... BOOM!!! A huge explosion rocks the entire Joe Louis Arena and a blue glow covers everything. Faint at first, but slowly growing louder, unidentifiable music can be heard over the sound system, before vaguely familiar lyrics can be heard. MY NAAAME IS KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIID!!! KID COOOOOOOOOOOOLS!!!!!!!!!! The crowd freaks out, screaming for the return of everyone’s favorite Anytownian, Kid Cools! The lyrics and accompanying SWF-Tron video starts up, nearly everybody singing along. Hot digga dog, dig-a dig dig dog, hot digga dog, dig-a dig dig dog! Hot diggy dog, digga dig dog, hot digga dog diggy dog dig-a dog! Digga dog dig dig-a dog! Hot diggy dog, digga dig dog, hot dig-a dog! The lyrics and video plays through, but Kid Cools is curiously absent from the stage. Everyone in the arena, fans, Riley and Comet, even Austin Sly, Andrea Montgomery, and referee Nick Soapdish have their eyes locked on the stage, with a few glances around the rest of the arena in case KC should decide to take an alternate route. As the lyrics and video play through for second time, Kid Cools, breathing heavily, steps out from behind the curtain. The song stops abruptly, but he signals for it to keep playing while he regains his breath. “Hollow fins! Kid Cools shore apricot all the ladders Kid Cools got when Kid Cools heart salamander in Jill!” Cools shouts. “What the hell did he just say, Comet? You’re insane, you should know what he means,” Riley says. “It’s simple. He said that he appreciated the letters he got after he hurt his shoulder in the JL. Remember when Tokyo X threw him over the top rope after that Zero Gravity match?” Comet asks. “No. Like I followed the JL after I left it,” Riley says. “Bat that not why Kid Cools ham. Kid Cools sheen Andrea Montgomery end Austin Sly arrest math. Kid Cools lick both Andrea Montgomery in Austin Sly, so Kid Cools half idea! Kid Cools rash to arena and ask Andrea Montgomery and Austin Sly if booth want come to praking lot to for eat hat dougs!” Cools shouts to an explosion of applause from the fans. “What was that, Comet?” Riley asks. “He said he’s not here because of the letters. He saw Andrea and Austin were going to have a match, and he likes both of them, so he came to the arena to ask them if they want to go to the parking lot and eat some hot dogs with him,” Comet translates. “That so stupid. Only an idiot would go for it,” Riley says. Andrea Montgomery and Austin Sly appear to be in deep deliberation over this idea. After several minutes of discussion, during which a “EAT HOT DOGS!” chant broke out, they break out of their huddle, apparently with a decision for Kid Cools. Funyon tosses a microphone into the ring and it’s caught by Andrea. “I’ll tell you what, Kid Cools...LET’S EAT SOME HOT DOGS!!” Andrea says to another eruption of applause from the fans. Andrea and Austin exit the ring and walk up the ramp as Kid Cools begins walking down the ramp to greet them, a huge smile plastered on his face. “Well, Robert, what do you have to say now? You just said that anyone who accepted Kid Cools’ offer was a moron. Is Austin Sly a moron?” Comet asks. “No way! He’s confused! Andrea Montgomery cut off his oxygen supply, so he’s not thinking straight! Or Thoth finally installed a skull radio, and it’s in Sly’s head!” Riley shouts, trying to think of other excuses. Just as Andrea, Austin, and Kid Cools are about to head back up the ramp, yet another explosion of pyrotechnics goes off, accompanied by a wall of fire at the base of the stage! “Hate Me Now” by Nas starts up, and this time only a handful of truly old school IGNWF fans know who’s going to make an appearance. “Robert, is that who I think it is?” Comet asks. “IT’S JAYSON GRANT!!” Riley screams. Riley’s statement rings true, as the original commissioner of the IGNWF, Jayson Grant, steps out, microphone firmly clenched in his ringed hand. “Now lissen up, yo! I’s be Jayson Grant, me hommies, and I’s gots an intrest in what be ‘appenin’ in da ring and outside it, ya heard? An’ I’s don’t much like you goin’ out to be eatin’ no ‘ot dogs when you’s should be ‘avin’ a match. Booyakasha!” Jayson shouts. “New, Jayson, held one. We just won’t ate hawt dags! Notting rot with them,” Kid Cools appeals. “You jus’ ‘old on, mate. Now, I is ready to break out wif da ass kickin’ if’n you don’t get outta ‘ere an’ if’n you two don’ go back to da ring and finish da match. Booyakasha!” Jayson shouts again. Andrea Montgomery, Austin Sly, and Kid Cools huddle together, discussing what their options are. After a minute, they come to a decision and turn to face Grant. “Mister Grant, I know you’ve been a long-standing member of this federation, you were the cornerstone of it’s creation, actually,” Montgomery begins. “That’s why...we are so sorry we have to do this...” Andrea says. Cools, Sly, and Montgomery rush Grant, who snaps out with a kick that misses Sly by at least a foot...heh, the kick missed by a foot...and is taken down with a pumphandle exploder from Kid Cools! He lifts Grant up, cinches in a front facelock and hooks Grant’s right leg. The crowd goes wild, screaming “MUNCH CRUNCH! MUNCH CRUNCH! MUNCH CRUNCH!” as KC looks around before hefting Jayson off his feet and slamming him back down just as quickly with a fisherman’s buster! “Kid Cools has just decimated Jayson Grant with the Munch Crunch!!” Comet shouts. “What do you mean decimated? Doesn’t that have to do with the decimal system?” Riley inquires. The damage done to what appears to be their only obstruction, Andrea Montgomery, Austin Sly, and Kid Cools leave Jayson Grant on the stage and walk backstage, heading for the parking lot, and hot dogs. Sweet, glorious hot dogs. Storm fades out to a commercial for NEMESIS! MAGICAL KANAN! GWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!

I was bored, and rather than write my match, I figured I'd make a comic in the grand tradition of Muzz making banners (Speaking of which, he's made a great one for Tom's Presidential campaign).

I wonder if Tillman's death will make it... That's my contribution to this thread.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGG GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Happy birthday OAK!!

Have me scheduled to make out with The Masked Man in a closet. Or not. I know, book me in a stairway to hell match against the Iceman. Or not. Eh, I care not who I face.

Damn does Atlanta suck. I mean, we usually do decently in the first month or so, maybe even longer than that, but once it gets closer to fall, something clicks and we fall apart. Perhaps the best example being a couple years ago when Atlanta, Jacksonville, and I think Charlotte were in a 3-way race for the South. And of course, Atlanta lost the last two games or whatever, and Jacksonville clinched the division, those jerks. But with Giant Gonzales hopefully being beaten with sticks this off-season, things might be different.

Mark, that's because the hamburger head was was foam. He'd take it off before the match and had a hamburger-themed mask on. You silly man. Oh, and X, I recall all of those, and something else that never happened, but if it did, would have definately made the list. I'm speaking of the IGNWF Revolution you proposed after aspects of an angle of yours didn't go as planned. Wacky!

No mention of the Messiah aka Damien Diablo killing (Maybe crucifing) Fallout's sister, but the promo was edited (Very haphazardly) to read as Fallout's dog being killed? Pish tosh, I say. Pish. Tosh.

Sweet zombie Jesus, no! Do not resign him. Force him to retire. Make him tear his quad if need be. Anything to get him to move back to Argentina.

Now, it doesn't seem to be happening much anymore, but at a point, there were quite a few double no-shows on our cards. Since we can't have a big empty space and people talking about a match that didn't happen, the DNS match was created. It's used for general humiliation purposes, and this my friends, is perhaps the best to have ever been written. So great, it's a co-write between Kibagami and myself, since we rock. So, without any further interruption, the match. “Welcome back to whatever show this is, Riley. I can’t be bothered to look at the card and notice I have a MATCH and SHOW UP FOR IT, so we’ve got this boring and slightly incoherent 1000 words coming up!” ”That’s right, Mark Stevens! I’m Bobby Riley, and since gay jokes bore the absolute living Christ out of the person that’s writing me, you will not hear my stale voice for the next page or so!” “It’s Raining Men” begins to blast, well, not really blast, sort of a tin-sounding hum really, but for the sake of description blasts over the 50-watt PA King’s techies brought with them to Podunk, Egypt, for this show as Judge Mental and Kris (or is it Kross?) enter together for reasons that aren’t really important, but for the sake of the story, let’s say they’re gay, shall we? Uh…yeah. Anyway, Judge and Kross get into the ring, and Funyon begins announcing their entrance, except his mic is broken, so they cut off “It’s Raining Men” and plug another mic into the PA, and Funyon starts to announce again, but Neilsen runs into the ring with a CRAZED KILLER ATTACK MONKEY and commands the monkey to rend Funyon from limb to limb! Funyon faints like he’s fucking Scarlett O’Hara or whatever her name was or something and the monkey rips his throat out from his LEG! Damn, that monkey’s crazy. Stuff happens, wherein Kris screams a lot and says the word “tubular” and Judge hits Funyon’s lifeless corpse with a gavel four times or so (four seems like a good number for something like this, don’t you think?), and then The Flocknest Monster runs into the ring and screams “READ HOT SHIT WRESTLING!” before security drags him away, but the Monster grabs hold of the PA on his way out and pulls it over and it breaks and somewhere in Iowa, a butterfly flaps its wings and then dies. Judge hits his finisher on a member of the ring crew because I can’t remember what his finisher is, really, and Kross says “tubular!” again, and suddenly rocks fall, crushing Kris’ head, but nothing significant comes of that. Stevens: Dear Jesus! Enough with the bunnies, Judge! They’ve suffered enough!! Riley: Shut up you, those bastards deserve to be driven through twelve steel chairs! Despite Hearford’s pressure, Kraig manages to wriggle free from the crucifix knee trap. Kross ducks a destructive swathe of energy from Chris Wilson’s phaser, and Silent manages to drive Wilson head-first onto some conveniently-placed jagged rocks. “Hot Shit” Tony Stetson rears back and delivers a quad-tearing punch to the Miserly Jew’s baked potato. Dramatically, as Judge whips Kris into the ropes, three sparklers near the entrance go off and out steps Gillberg!! Looking menacingly towards Stetson, Gillberg walks down the ramp. Gillberg: There has been far too much oppression! And I bring, from the mouth of God, LET MY PEOPLE GO!! With that, Gillberg spears Stetson through an obese Tanzanian, thus smiting “Hot Shit.” Gillberg pulls MJ to his feet and they walk off to file taxes. Kross avoids an arm drag from Judge and brings Hearford down with a crisp bite to the back of the neck. Kraig pulls Billy up and sends him towards the ropes, but Judge simply goes out of the ring as the ropes have been removed by Giant Gonzales for flossing purposes. Stevens: Goodness, look at Judge go. Well it looks like the cow’s comin’ in for the night’s milkin and ol’ Uncle Glen’s turned the lamp down low. Riley: What the hell? Have you been taking things from Kibagami again? Stevens: You don’t approve of my colloquial sayings? As Judge rises, Grimedogg comes out of the crowd and cracks a lead pipe over Judge’s head. Grimedogg gives Wilson a bonk on the head and runs off. Kraig gets to his feet after being floored by Gonzales and is thrown towards Terry Funk, who knocks him into the third row with a cookie sheet. Ali G, of Da Ali G Show walks out and is about to say, “I iz ready” or some other retarded crap, but is beaten down by Judge and Kraig and Kris and Kross and Jesus and just about everyone else because he’s a ghetto thug, and honestly that’s just retarded. Judge is about to roll Kris back into the ring, but it’s gone, as crackhead Tyrone Biggums has sold it for $12. Riley: God damn crackheads! They don’t even suck... Stevens: Whoa! Enough of that... Tyrone runs around excitedly when he’s hit by a pick-up truck, Redneck Jesus Barry Windham riding shotgun and Clayton Bigsby driving. Just as quickly, though, Giant Gonzales throws the truck hella far. Ash Ketchum and Misty run out, and Ash nudges Judge Mental, who to emphasize Ash’s awesomeness, slices open several arteries. Misty pokes Hearford. Normally, this could cause a heart attack, or worse, but Judge gets up and starts shaking the ring ropes (Repo Man having brought back the ring). Misty tries slapping Judge, who just continues to shake the ropes. Ash even goes so far as to punch Hearford, but Will just keeps shaking the damn ropes. He then turns towards Ash and locks him in a gorilla press weaverlock!! Judge drops Ash on a hat pin and turns towards Misty. He simply throws her to Wilson, who, despite being dropped head-first on jagged rocks earlier, has completely healed and takes Misty to his “secret fortress.” Judge hops into the ring, where an elderly Jewish gardener, hired by Wilson, takes down Hearford with some well-placed kung-fu chops! However, the gardener quickly goes down to a bite to the eye from Kraig. Just at that moment, Thug drops down from the rafters, and stabs Kris four times in the legs. Quickly, Gonzales has sex with Thug, making her docile. And then some other stuff happens, some of which involving a goat, some midgets, lots of blood, chicken wire, head drops, and such. Riley: Okay, repeat that again. How are lesbians made? Stevens: Okay, one way is that they have sex with men like Kibagami or Flesher, and they know that there’s no way that it can be topped. Then there’s when they have sex with, or even talk to people like you, something many people who saw all of the Clerks episodes call the Randal Effect, wherein the woman realizes the worthlessness of all males. At least, that’s what Tom Flesher and Kibagami told me. Meanwhile, Silent is drinking. Meanwhile, Gus is walking through some corridors backstage. Gus has lost overness from this segment. Meanwhile, GOdrea runs in and slaps the shit out of the attack monkey with a golden gopher. The golden gopher and the attack monkey brawl off-camera (the entire match can be seen later on Hot Shit Wrestling.) Judge sees this and yells about order in the court, but suddenly his pants fall down and he trips and falls and cracks his skull on the STEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEL steps and Kris says “tubular to the maximundo dude!” “Carless" Mark Jindrak fucks a prostitute in the ass, in a totally unrelated segment. Meanwhile, something else happens. BACK TO THE MATCH! Kros says “tubular!” one time too many, which inadvertently summons Mr. Galatea (or maybe G was drunk and got lost on the way to the bar and ended up in Podunk, Egypt HEY FUCK YOU DUDES, THIS IS MY MATCH IT HAPPENS HOW I SAY) and he and Neilsen slap on the… TIGER MCTWAMER GETS ITS OWN PAGE MOTHERFUCKER BOW DOWN BOW DOWN G and Neilsen win, and they go out drinking with Silent and Tom and they all pick up some bitches. Yeah. what The lesson: No-showing sucks, unless you’re Galatea or you were in the Clan. Booyah, word to your moms. (A K/G production. 2003, all rights reserved.)

Here's my loser-full match. Comments of commentification would be appreciated and such. Yay. SWF Storm returns from another commercial, this time advertising a brand new hamburger sandwich. Cameras pan around the packed Alamo Dome, showcasing signs displaying the best and brightest of the SWF fan-base. Signs such as “Revolution Zero Should Not Be Televised” (Because all the kids like Gil Scott-Heron, right?) along with “Candace from Okinawa. THAT IN JAPAN~!” and, you know what? That one was bad, and the others are even worse, so let’s not even bother with them. The nausea-inducing pan ends with a picture that upsets even more stomachs, Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley! “Hello again fans!” Comet begins. “Why must you greet those dolts each time you happen to glance a camera lens? They saw you like, three minutes ago,” Riley snarls. “I greet our fine fans because a great man once said something about repetition helps in getting a point across, or something. I don’t recall what it was exactly, but he was wearing a neat tie at the time!” Beams Comet. “Anyway, we’ve had some fast-paced action already, and it’s going to get even faster in just a minute! Jamie Drazon, the first person to have ever defeated rising superstar Dragon Okimurra, is pitted against Andrea Montgomery, Manson, and Max King in a four-way match to determine the number one contender to the Intercontinental Television title!” Comet says, following up with a very deep breath. “Hey, you forgot something! It’s ‘The Icon’ Max King. Show some respect or I’ll have to rough you up,” threatens Riley. “You? Rough me up?” Comet says before breaking up in laughter. “Well, I’ll get some guys to rough you up,” Riley says, crestfallen. Practically every light within the Alamo Dome goes out, not only creating a problem for those who decided to make a run to the bathrooms, but heralds the approach of the first wrestler in the match. It’s hard to say who, though, as nearly everyone on the roster has dimmed lights in his or her entrance. Just as Riley is about to pull out his Hamtaro plushie for comfort, Marilyn Manson’s “Dope Hat” blares over the public address system, inducing a roar of cheers from the audience. Jamie Drazon steps out, surveying the crowd before he begins his walk down the ramp as the lights return to their normal brightness. “Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall! The winner of this match shall be named the number one contender to the Intercontinental Television title! Introducing first, from Vancouver, British Columbia, he weighs in at two hundred, forty-three pounds, JAAAAMIEE DRAAAAZON!!” Funyon booms out over the music. JD rolls under the bottom rope, as rolling under either of the two other ropes is impossible, pops to his feet and begins a few pre-match stretches. Before anyone is allowed to get re-accustomed to the lights as they are, they dim once more, but this time, multi-hued strobe lights flash over the crowd. The fans once again erupt in applause as Prong’s “Snap Your Fingers, Snap Your Neck” comes on, Manson stepping onto the entranceway. “And his opponent, from Denver, Colorado, weighing two hundred, thirty pounds, MAAANSON!” Funyon screams. The former USJL champ makes his way down the ramp, gets into the ring and turns, keeping an eye on Drazon and one on the entranceway. “Man, we are going to blow a fuse with all of these lights going off and on,” complains Riley. “I remember in the old days when some generic music played, you walked out and that was it!” “Says the man who used ‘Eye of the Tiger’ as theme music...” Comet states. “You just don’t like being in the dark. You’re afraid, aren’t you?” Comet teases. Riley doesn’t have a chance to answer, as the lights go down once more, followed closely by a huge explosion! The fans cheer once more as filters bathe the Alamo Dome in a green glow, No Doubt’s “Just a Girl” starting up. Andrea Montgomery steps out and slowly walks down the ramp. “And their opponent, from Biloxi, Mississippi, she weighs in at one hundred, forty-three pounds, AAANDRREEA MONTGOMERRRY!!” Funyon screams, wishing for a bottle of water. Andrea gets to the ring, hops on to the apron, and vaults over the ropes to another cheer. “Well, three down, one to go,” Comet states. “Of course. That’s why it’s called a four-way. And I’m very glad that Max King is coming in now. Save the best for last and that sort,” Riley says a bit absentmindedly, waiting for a glimpse of the Icon. Kelly Connelly walks down the ramp with no preceding music or lighting changes. The rain of jeers reaches near Hurricane Charley levels, but Connelly presses forward, climbing into the ring and making straight for Funyon and his microphone. Andrea, Manson, and Drazon all glance at each other, all understanding the plan without uttering a single word. Kelly grabs the microphone from Funyon, but before she can utter a single word, Andrea darts forward, wrenches it away from Connelly and tosses it over to Funyon. Shocked, he bobbles it, but manages to hold on to the microphone as Manson and Drazon block Kelly’s path. “And their opponent, from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, weighing in at two hundred, fifty pounds, ‘THE ICON’, MAAAX KIIIING!” shouts Funyon for perhaps the first time. Yet another pyrotechnic explosion rocks the entranceway, cueing Saliva’s “Superstar” to start up. Max King, anger visible on his face at being introduced by...Funyon, walks down the ramp. Also upset, Kelly Connely takes her position to hold open the ring ropes for the Icon. King climbs in as Funyon exits, and Kelly coos in Max’s ear, trying to get him focused on the match. Junior referee Ralph Kramden makes to check the four wrestlers for any foreign implements to doom, but Kelly holds up a hand, stopping him in his tracks as she gives Max a quick kiss and leaves the ring. “Wow. Andrea Montgomery, Jamie Drazon, and Manson have stopped Kelly Connely from harassing Funyon and preventing him from doing his job of introducing wrestlers. And I for one applaud them,” Comet says, and does in fact claps in the direction of the aforementioned people. “You would, and I know why. It’s because you’re a...” Riley falters. “Aw, crap. I got nothing.” Kramden, who looks nothing like Jackie Gleason, finishes the pat down and calls for the bell. DING! DING! DING! Max King heads straight for Manson, while Drazon aims a kick to Andrea’s jaw, which Montgomery manages to duck by dropping to the mat. Manson locks up with King, no advantage for either man. They quickly release, only to crash together again, like two angry rams. Two angry, bipedal, horn-less rams. Andrea gets back to her feet, but goes back down, narrowly avoiding a roundhouse from Drazon. King and Manson disengage once more, and as they attempt a third tie-up, Max drives a knee into Manson’s stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs. With Manson doubled over, King grabs him around the waist, lifts, and despite it not being Arbor Day and Manson not being a tree, plants Manson with a jumping piledriver. Turning his attention away from Andrea Montgomery, Jamie Drazon sees a bug on the back of King’s head, and it being the right thing to do, JD obliterates it along with King’s motor skills (Only temporarily) with a Thai roundhouse. “Hotchie motchie! Jamie Drazon might have imploded Max King’s skull with that roundhouse!” Comet bellows. “Please, Jamie Drazon hurting Max King? And what’s with the Jay Sherman line?” Riley questions. “Hey, it seemed appropriate. You’re just lucky I told Zenon I’d say it. I don’t think you wouldn’t have liked the Comometer,” Comet says while Riley just sighs. With King out of the way, Drazon sets his sights on the real target, Manson. Grabbing his right leg, JD places his boot against the back of Manson’s knee, putting pressure on the joint. Manson yelps in pain and tries to find a way to escape. He doesn’t need to, though, as Drea pops to her feet, goes behind JD and leaps, grabbing him first in a side headlock before twisting around Jamie, locking on a front facelock, wrenching Drazon away from Manson, hitting a DDT in the process. Montgomery gets to her feet and lands a double stomp to King’s back. “Good idea by Jamie Drazon in targeting Manson’s knee. If he can work it over enough and manage to get Max King and Andrea Montgomery out of the way long enough, the Hiza juji-gatame should be more than enough to win the match,” Comet notes. “Well, it is a good idea in theory. But a major problem is getting King out of the way long enough. That just won’t happen. However, I’m sure that the Icon will be more than pleased if Drazon softens up Manson for him,” Riley says. “So what are you saying? Max King is not capable of taking care of Manson himself?” Comet asks, trying to get a rise out of Bobby. “Not at all, you masked doofus. I’m just saying that if Drazon is going to do all the dirty work, it would be nice for King. Just cut down on the work he’s got to do,” Riley explains. “That’s true, it would help if someone assists Max King, as he’s spending some time on the mat as of right now,” Comet says. “Just a power nap!” Riley cries. “He’s fine, really. I mean, that stomp from Andrea was probably less intense than the massages he gets.” Drea manages to get King back to his feet and sends him into the ropes. As he’s coming off the rebound, Andrea performs a cartwheel before nailing the Icon with a back elbow to the nose. King manages to maintain his vertical base, and Andrea backpedals before dashing forward, driving Max to the mat with a bulldog. Montgomery gets to her feet, and looking right at her is Manson. The Denver native sidesteps the girl from Biloxi and goes right after King. The former USJL champ hoists King to his feet, cinches in a front chancery and lifts the Icon off his feet. Drea quickly heads for the ropes as Manson falls backwards, vertical suplex complete. Manson rolls out of the way as Andrea crashes down on King, staying down for the pin. However, Kramden appears confused. He casts a glance at Funyon, puzzled look on his face. “Am I...am I supposed to count the pin with my penis?” Funyon violently shakes his head, and a much-relieved Ralph Kramden drops to count the pin with his hand. ONE! NO! Manson calmly pulls Andrea off, stopping the count as it should. “Nice suplex from Manson followed up with a split-legged moonsault from Andrea Montgomery, but I don’t think it would have gotten the pin even if Manson hadn’t stopped her,” Comet says sagely. “Of course. What have I been telling you? Max King is far too good for these chumps. He’ll win easily,” says Robert. Upset over the pin being broken up, Andrea sends a kick towards Manson, catching him on the chin. The Coloradish backs up, remains on his feet, and is still standing after another kick from Montgomery. Growing a little desperate to floor Manson, Andrea performs a back handspring, nailing him under the chin with both feet, sending the former USJL champ to the mat. “Nice set of kicks from Andrea Montgomery, and she manages to take Manson down,” notes Comet. Andrea notices Manson down, and out of the corner of her eye, sees Jamie Drazon on his feet. Spinning swiftly, Andrea launches a kick at Drazon, who knocks the leg away forcibly with a kick of his own, turning Andrea around. Having a pretty good idea as to what’s going to happen next, Andrea jumps, legs outstretched as Drazon fires off a kick of his own, but his leg is scissored by Montgomery’s! The SWF of the SWF wrenches JD’s leg, sending him crashing to the mat. “Andrea Montgomery just took a page out of Jamie Drazon’s book with that leg scissor takedown. Attacking his legs is a great idea. If he can’t kick you, it’ll be damn hard for him to beat you,” Comet says. “Page out of Jamie Drazon’s book? That’s a tragedy. He hadn’t finished coloring some of the pictures!” Riley shouts in mock indignation. Andrea gets back to her feet, and is quickly bent backwards by a standing Max King. The Icon drops to one knee, driving the other into Andrea’s spine. King is not close to being finished as he gets up, and drives another knee into Montgomery’s back. Max rises once more, but this time he grabs hold of Drea’s waistband, lifts her up, and drops her across his knee with a backbreaker. King rolls Andrea off his knee, gets to his feet, and finds himself in Jamie Drazon’s grip. Drazon arches his back, sending King up and over, nearly landing on the top of his head. “Nasty suplex from Drazon, and perhaps even nastier series of backbreakers from King,” states Comet. “Pish tosh. The only thing nasty about Drazon is his smell,” Riley says. Drazon hooks King’s left leg and Kramden gets in position to count the pin. ONE! TW...NO! The Icon manages to kick out, but Drazon ends up on top of him again, thanks to a knee to the back of the head from Manson. The Coloradio pulls JD up and slams him to the mat with a spinebuster. Manson doesn’t follow up his attack, however, as he’s focused on Max King now. Manson pulls King to his feet and sends him to the ropes with an Irish whip. Max bounces back, ducks a clothesline and hooks both of Manson’s arms. Icon drops to his knees, pulling Manson over in a backslide. ONE! TWO! TH...NO! Manson gets a shoulder up and continues to twist, rolling over, catching Max King with a backslide! ONE! TWO! TH...NO! King gets a shoulder up, rolls onto his side, and both he and Manson reach their feet, arms entwined. The two twist out of it, facing each other and lock up yet again. King appears to have the advantage, pushing Manson towards the ropes, but the Coloradian digs his feet in and starts shoving back. It seems like another stalemate is about to occur, but Andrea Montgomery intervenes, delivering a heel kick to the back of Manson’s right knee. She then follows up with a dropkick aimed near King’s ankles, knocking Max off his feet and putting a stop to the tie-up. Andrea, straining, pulls Manson to his feet and whips him to the ropes. Manson bounces back, and is sent head over heels from a rana by Montgomery. Andrea rises to her feet, looking to follow up, but is stopped by King as he crashes a forearm across her back. Max applies a rear waistlock, places his left leg in front of Drea’s, and falls forward, tripping Andrea. Noticing both Manson and Drazon on the mat and not making much of an effort to get up, King opts for the ‘Tom Flesher-Approved Dickish Heel Route’ and drives a knee into the small of Drea’s back while grinding his forearm across her neck. “Now that’s just mean! I mean, he should be going for something to possibly end this match, but Max King is just being a big jerk,” Comet says vehemently. “Bah! He’s doing the right thing. Reminds me of something. ‘Give them no quarter and let slip the dogs of war!’” Riley shouts in a horrible attempt at an English accent. “Ah, Shakespeare. Sort of,” Comet notes. “Who? I got that from a Bazooka Joe gum wrapper,” Riley says, as Comet adds another reason to his list of ‘Why My Broadcast Partner is a Moron.’ With all of his attention focused on Drea, King has no idea that Manson is on his feet and heading right for him. Max finally gets a clue as Manson drives his knee into the back of King’s skull, knocking him off of Montgomery. Manson yanks the Icon up, slips on a front facelock, hooks Max’s leg and lifts him off the mat. Manson spins and drops backwards with a fisherman’s suplex. “Chaosphere from Manson! Max King was just drilled with that suplex! And on an unrelated note, I was at Maskaholics Anonymous, and Beezel broke his foot when a three handled family credenza he was moving fell. Apparently, it was covered in moss and was tough to handle,” Comet says. “A family credenza? We used to have one at the Riley homestead, but I never knew what it was for. What is it for, anyway?” Bobby asks, more interested in pieces of furniture than the match. “Well, they commonly hold books, documents, and the like,” says Comet. “Wow. I just learned something today. Actually, two things. You see, I once thought that dogs, uh, laid eggs, but I found out that...that they don’t. Live babies,” Riley says. Rather than make a bridge and go for the pin, Manson lets go of King and gets to his feet, hauling Max up as well. Manson slaps on a front facelock, drops, and quickly transitions the DDT into a reverse facelock, pulling back on the Icon’s neck. “Great idea Manson’s got, soften up King’s neck to that Consequences will have even more of an impact. That’s if he gets a chance to hit it,” Comet notes. “Yeah, well, I don’t think he’ll have a chance to. Especially with Jamie Drazon on his feet and skulking behind Manson,” Riley says. JD decides against simply kicking Manson in the head, possibly knocking him out, and instead steps on the back of Manson’s right knee, pulling his foot up. “Nice move from Drazon, working over Manson’s knee, and we’ve got a double submission situation,” Comet says. Kramden seems flustered over predicament. He first heads to King, asking if he’ll submit, but before he can get an answer, he checks on Manson’s status. Manson’ doesn’t have time to shake or nod his head as Kramden goes back to King, seeing if he’ll submit. Manson seems to have formulated a plan, and helping out Ralph, lets go of King. Kramden thanks a handful of deities at once and looks towards Manson, asking if he’ll submit. Manson shakes him off, twists his body to the left so he’s looking at Drazon and reaches towards him. Manson manages to grab JD’s free leg and trips him, sending the hardcore maniac to the mat and freeing himself from the hold. “Manson with a nifty escape from Drazon’s submission. And boy, did referee Ralph Kramden look confused with that double submission or what?” asks Comet. “I concur. I’d like to see what that dolt does if someone gets two submissions locked on at once. He wouldn’t know who to award the match to. He’s dumb, you see,” Riley clarifies. Manson rolls all the way under the ropes, rubbing his knee whilst laying on the apron. King slowly rises to his feet, holding his neck as he catches Drazon getting up out of the corner of his eye. King dashes forward as Drazon is still slightly disoriented, and takes JD down with a swinging neckbreaker. The Icon pulls JD back up, drives his knee into Drazon’s gut twice, hooks both of his arms, and drops Jamie with a butterfly suplex. King rolls over, hooking Drazon’s leg in the process. Glad at having a very cut-and-dry task, Kramden gets down to count the pin. ONE! TWO! T...NO! Drazon kicks out, sending King flying off of him. “Good offensive flurry from Max King, but Drazon won’t go down to a standard butterfly suplex. Now, one from the rafters? That could keep him down,” Comet says. “Cykes, Cykes, Cykes. I’ve told you a billion times, don’t exaggerate!” Riley says, laughing to himself, an embarrassing chortle, complete with nerd-like snorting. JD rolls backwards and gets back to his feet moments before King does. Drazon darts forward and slides, knocking King’s legs out from under him in homage to Bruce Dern’s slide tackle from the movie The ‘Burbs. Drazon aims a few kicks at King’s ribs, but before he can do much damage, Kramden stops him. A look of fury on his face, Drazon steps away from King, but once Kramden backs off, JD goes back to King, but lifts him up instead. Jamie whips King into the ropes, and as King bounces back, Jamie spins one hundred eighty degrees, knocking Max silly with a back elbow to the nose. Icon remains standing, though, so Drazon decides to fix that by heading to the ropes himself, lifting his leg and... SMACK!! ...nailing him with a Yakuza kick. It takes a moment for this to sink in, but once it does, the crowd goes APRICOTS! I MEAN, BANANAS!! “I doubt Kelly Connely will be kissing Max King in the near future after that Yakuza kick from Jamie Drazon,” Comet says. “Her loss. I’d kiss him that way. Aww, crap!” Riley shouts. “Just forget what I just said.” “I never pay attention when you speak anyway.” Drazon thinks about covering King, but that thought train never gets out of the station as Andrea Montgomery lands a glancing dropkick to JD’s shoulder. He turns around just as she’s getting back to her feet, and Drea lashes out with a kick. Drazon blocks it with a kick of his own, turning Montgomery around since he’s since forgotten about the last outcome this particular exchange had. Before Jamie can even bring a foot off the mat, Andrea jumps, back turned to Drazon, landing on the foot she sent the original kick with, and blasts Drazon with a back brain kick, sending the hardcore maniac to the mat. “Andrea Montgomery with a nice counter to Jamie Drazon’s kick counter. That sounded weird,” Comet says, somewhat perplexed. “That’s because you’re weird, Comet. It was a good kick, though. Too bad there’s nothing in Drazon’s brain to affect,” Riley says in his most serious tone. Montgomery gets to her feet, pleased with herself at putting Drazon on the mat, but doesn’t notice Manson creep up behind her and wrap his arms around her waist. Manson arches his back, arms secure around Andrea, knowing full well that she’d land on her feet if he lets go before the move is complete. Manson hits the mat, keeps his grip on Drea and bridges the German into a pin. ONE! TWO! T...NO!! Max King breaks up the pin with a well aimed kick to Manson’s right knee, collapsing the bridge. “Nice bridging German suplex from Manson, but King breaks it up with that sharp kick to the knee,” Comet says. “Smart thinking. Max King is proving himself to be a genius more and more,” Riley states. “But no where near Tom Flesher levels of intelligence!” Riley quickly adds. King pulls Manson to his feet, whips him into the corner and King charges after him. Manson hits chest-first, bounces out slightly, and is driven back into the turnbuckles from a Max King clothesline. The former USJL champ staggers out again, the Icon bounces off the nearby set of ropes, and nails Manson with a clothesline. King scrambles to his feet and up the ropes. Max takes a moment to pose while perched on the top buckle before leaping off, crashing down upon Manson with a splash. King rises to his feet, pulling Manson up as well, and whips the Coloradical into the ropes. The Icon bends forward, looking to back body drop Manson, but the man from Denver sees it coming and cracks Max in the face with a knee. King shoots up in pain, hands covering his already damaged grill. Manson places his shoulder against King’s stomach, wraps his arms around King’s waist, and arches backwards. “Nice northern lights suplex from Manson, not to mention that knee to the face. Max King is going to have some difficulty in tasting anything in the next few days, I’d imagine,” says Comet. “What about King’s clotheslines and the big splash from the rope? Was that just crap or something?” Riley shouts. “No, I meant no slight to Max King. It’s just that Manson now has the upper hand, so I figured I’d mention what he’d just done,” Comet says, a little anger apparent in his voice. Not wanting his knee kicked out from under him, Manson opts out of the bridge and gets to his feet. The guy behind MANSONOSITY pulls up King, attempts a whip, but Max reverses it. The Icon levels Manson with a back elbow, and Max hauls Manson up again, hitting an inverted atomic drop near the ropes. With Manson slightly dazed, King runs for the opposite set of ropes. Max bounces off, and leaps at Manson, who manages to shake off the effects of the atomic drop just in time and falls to the mat. Rather than his intended plan of hitting Manson with a high cross body block, Max King instead goes over the top rope, landing on his stomach. King slowly gets to his feet, the wind knocked from him, turns to face the ring, and crashes into the barrier around the ring. “Manson with a suicide dive that crushed Max King! I wonder if one of Max’s lungs aren’t collapsed!” Comet shouts. “Well, Manson managed to take King down, but he’s not too safe, as Jamie Drazon looks to be getting back to his feet,” Riley notes. JD is in fact back up, and upon seeing a chance for more mayhem, streaks towards the side of the ring Manson and King are located, and since Drazon is a stupid Nazi conformist, he leaps over the top, crashing into Manson just as he’s getting back on his feet. “Jamie Drazon just took out Manson with a suicide dive of his own over the top rope!” exclaims Comet. “And he also landed on Max King, that blackguard!” Riley spits with vehemence. It looks like Ralph Kramden is about to start a ten count, seeing as Andrea Montgomery, despite still laying on the mat, is the only competitor still in the ring, but he suddenly recalls that count outs are not allowed, so he stands around, looking confused. Thankfully for him, Andrea slowly gets to her feet, looks at the empty ring, then notices Manson, Max King, and Jamie Drazon in a heap on the outside. Drazon slowly gets to his feet, and succumbing to peer pressure, Andrea bounces off the set of ropes opposite the other wrestlers in the match, and heads straight for them. Andrea flies through the air, going between the top and middle ropes like a fleshy missile and collides with Drazon, her knee catching him under the chin and forcing the back of his head into the barrier. “Andrea Montgomery with a dive of her own! She just nailed Drazon, and his head cracked into that barrier pretty hard,” Comet shouts. “Very true, Comet, but I’m not sure if he was her intended target. It looked like she was going for King, too,” Riley states. “I don’t think she had a plan of who to attack, it seemed more like a ‘jump at all of them and hope for the best’ type of move,” Comet says. Kramden looks even more flustered as he wants to start the common ten count, but he knows that count outs aren’t in effect. He looks at the twisted pile of bodies, and considers asking for a magazine to read while everything gets sorted out. “With no count outs in this match, we’ve come to a screeching halt,” Comet points out. “Much like your first date with a girl, I’d imagine. What with you realizing, that, you know...” Comet implies as he has to follow the strict ‘No On Air Innuendo’ memorandum he received from Zenon. “I do not know what you are talking about, Comet. I’ve never been on a date with a girl...damn it to hell!” Riley shouts at his most recent slip-up. Being the last person to take go out of the ring and having nobody to land on her, Andrea Montgomery reaches her feet first. She strains a bit, but manages to pull Jamie Drazon up, and still holding his arm, twists it, kicks out his legs while driving the elbow of her free arm into the back of JD’s neck. “Magnolia Bloom from Montgomery! She might have taken care of Jamie Drazon for a while with that move!” Comet exclaims. “And that just goes to show how stupid Andrea Montgomery is. It takes far less effort to take care of Drazon by showing him a piece of tin foil,” Riley says. “Besides, she’s still got Manson and ‘The Icon’ Max King to worry about. I mean, did anyone even think Jamie Drazon could pull out a win in this match?” Riley asks. Andrea kips up, sees Manson beginning to stir, and she leaps on to the ring apron, apparently waiting for the Coloradiccho to rise to his feet. Though it takes several moments, Manson finally gets up, and Drea leaps off, twisting in the air, sending Manson back down with a corkscrew moonsault. “Sky twister press from Andrea! It looks like it might be down to just Andrea Montgomery and Max King! Manson and Jamie Drazon both appear to be off in dream land,” Comet says, very excited, because he’s just an easily excitable person. “Dream land? Where’s that exactly? Just past Parts Unknown?” Riley asks, intent on having his question answered. “I didn’t mean it literally, Bobby. It’s just a phrase,” Comet says with the patience of a child care worker dealing with a hyperactive, attention deficit disorder-ridden child. Andrea pushes herself away from Manson and pulls Max King to his feet. She lands two quick kicks before rolling him into the ring and then climbing in herself. Andrea casts a glance backwards, making sure that Manson and Drazon are still down, and seeing that they are, drags King to the center of the ring. “I wonder what Andrea Montgomery is planning to do to Max King. It could be anything, really. She’s got quite a repertoire of top rope moves, and she’s also got that devastating DDT she calls Done and Dusted. What do you think she’ll do, Bobby?” Comet asks. “I hope she uses the Falling Star Bomb! It’ll put you in your place. Put you in your place good,” Riley grumbles. “Actually, that would be fine with me. In fact, I’d be honored. I mean, to know that she thinks enough of the Falling Star Bomb to use it to finish this match, it’s great,” Comet says, bursting Riley’s bubble. “Yeah? Well, I bet she’d do it and then King will kick out at one. Then that would show you. Show you good,” Riley says, full of anger. Or, as I like to put it, angerfully. Yes, he said it angerfully. He’s ANGERFUL! Andrea pulls King to his feet, but the Icon nearly falls back down again. Andrea manages to catch him, and keeps him up until he can find some sense of balance, though he staggers the entire time. Content that he’s at least on his feet, Drea heads towards the ropes, and the moment she come back off the rebound, dives forward and rolls. Montgomery pops up barely a foot from King, and as she soars into the air, she grabs King by the head, his chin against her shoulder. Andrea drops to her knees, jarring King’s head. Drea keeps her hold in Max’s head and pops back to her feet, moving her hands down, hooking his arms while wrapping her left leg around King’s left. Andrea falls backwards, King unwillingly following as his head is slammed into the mat. “DONE AND DUSTED! Andrea Montgomery has this match all but wrapped up after that combination of the Tuckerman and Roll jawbreaker and the Done and Dusted DDT!” Comet screams. “No way!! It can’t happen! Kelly will do something, or maybe that dolt Drazon will get up in time. She can’t win! It’s not right!” Riley screams, perhaps louder than Comet. Andrea rolls Max on to his back and hooks his leg as Kramden drops to make the count and Jamie Drazon opens his eyes and slowly sits up, wondering where he is. ONE! Drazon, one hand on his head, rises to his feet and uses the other to catch himself before he falls down again. TWO!! Clinging to the ring apron, JD tries to pull himself into the ring as Kelly Connely shrieks at Max to kick out. THREE!!! Kramden springs to his feet and waves his hand at the timekeeper as the crowd cheers in approval. DING! DING! DING! “The winner of this match by pinfall, and the number one contender to the Intercontinental Television title, AAANDRRREAAAA MONTGOOOMERRRY!!” Funyon booms out over the audience and “Just a Girl” which has started up again. “Andrea Montgomery has won the match! She is the number one contender! Simply amazing!” Comet shouts. “Maybe, but I don’t think she’ll win the belt, especially if she’s got to face Landon Maddix. No chance for her. What do we have next, Cyclone?” Riley asks since he never bothers reading the cards for each show. “Well, next we have Brian Levy in his rookie debut taking on Justin Bowers. Then another contendership match in Austin Sly versus David Cross. That’s for the USJL title Manson was recently in possession of. After that, Dace Night and Sean Davis battle it out, then we’ve got TomFlesherversusCandaceforthecruiser,” Comet says, trying to get the fact that Flesher will be in action past Riley. “Then it’s Toxxic going up against Johnny Dangerous for the World Heavyweight title.” “Wait, what did you just say?” Riley asks, thinking he might have heard Flesher’s name. “I said, Toxxic and Johnny Dangerous for the World,” Comet says, exasperated. “Before that. You said Flesher, didn’t you?” Riley asks. Comet nods, prompting an outburst from Riley, “I knew it! You were trying to hide it from me! I want Tom now! Not those other chumps! It’s Flesher-time, dammit!!” Riley shrieks as SWF Storm fades to a commercial for Annie Eclectic-brand hosiery, specifically pitching the ‘Blagledyargyle’ style socks.

SPARK!!!

Sporky, you stupid bitch. Penguins are from the South Pole. Antarctica, motherfucker. Damn you're dumb.

That's why you split him vertically. Silly Jennykins.

Well, that means Gonzo won't make it. Unless he decides to play for like, twenty more years... Tiny Gonzales will be different, though. I hope.