Justice

Lockdown returns after a commercial for "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins' Hollywood Squares DVD game to reveal Jimmy the Doom seated in front of a lemon-yellow backdrop. The Doomtopian shoots off a non-threatening wink and a rainbow graphic informs any viewer that might not have been paying attention for the last few weeks, that it's time for Doomtopian History. "Mosts for hello! Lessoned with historied Doomtopings agains," Jimmy begins. "Ethical-lacking Lois beings give crapulance in toiletry, so Doomed Jim solitaire. Continued of governings for Doomtopia as with of times lasting. Nowed, thoughs, legislatitves branchings speaked. Of Doomtopia, beings unicameralized, but of to have memberings of one to hundredths in populatories. If a muchly tieing occured, decideds with feats of being strenghtliness and witties, suchlings Trivial Pursuit contestings." Doom is about to continue when John Trudell walks into frame. "Look, Jimmy, I've just been told by Peters to tell you that this...thing of yours is cancelled. Nobody's watching it." "Buts, manied histories with Doomtopian lefts!" Doom protests. "Yeah, whatever. Frankly, nobody gives a damn, so, it's over," Trudell replies. "Sadness has many commons with Jimmy," Doom laments. "If you say so. Hurry up, we're going to be using your spot to play repeats of Danny Williams' Strong Style Ribs commercials," John explains. "Sauciness of meats with restauranting excess of goodliness," Jimmy mutters. "I don't care, now clean this crap out. God that backdrop is horrendous!" With that, Lockdown heads to a commercial for Danny Williams' Strong Style Ribs: We Don't Have A Tagline with a mother fucking star wipe.

The fans packed inside the Xcel Energy Center in St. Paul, Minnesota come alive as “Too Drunk to Fuck” by the Dead Kennedys begins to blare over the sound system. “Story of my life,” King mutters in reference to the entrance music playing. He pauses and glances at Pete. “You know… if you were too drunk to…” “Shut up!” LDP snaps before King can even finish the thought. “Anyway, welcome back to Lockdown! Things are about to get hot-n-heavy in St. Paul because…” “You know, if you didn’t let things get hot-n-heavy,” King says with a snicker as his voice fades. “Because next up is an interesting Lethal Lottery tag team match, where Drunk and Disorderly will face off against Kevin Coyote and Insane Luchador,” LDP says to the fans delight. “Did you know that Amy Stephens has now defeated both Coyote and Luchador?” King asks in a condescending tone. “Did you know that Bruce Blank has no stunt doubles this time to avoid Insane Luchador?” LDP fires back in reference to Blank’s cheap stunt on Storm. “Avoid? No, he just doesn’t want to waste his time.” Amy Stephens and Bruce Blank step onto the entrance ramp to the torn reaction from the crowd. She holds up the Igloo Cooler to get a cheap pop and she leads the way down the aisle. “First, from Nottingham, United Kingdom- weighing in at 171 pounds… she is one half of Drunk and Disorderly… AAAMMMYYY SSTTEEEPPPHHEENS!” She pauses and glances behind her with a roll of the eyes as she sees Blank arguing with a fan. He snatches the black and red “IL- Our Psychotic Hero” sign out of the fans hand and happily rips into pieces. He then tosses the pieces into the angry crowd before finally catching back up with Amy. “...And her partner, from Mobile, Alabama- weighing in at 295 pounds… to make up a combined weight of 466 pounds… he is the SWF Ultraviolent Champion, and the other half of Drunk and Disorderly... BRUUUUUUUCE BLAAAAAANK!"” “There’s been a feud boiling between Bruce Blank and IL because since his return he has made it clear he was one target- our Ultraviolent Champion, Bruce Blank! An unanswered challenge from Luchador led up to a heated confrontation on the next show. Followed by Storm Bruce Blank weaseled his way out of the match by sending in a fake ‘Bruce Blank!’ Now there’s no more hiding and these two will finally meet in that ring!” LDP recaps the history in excitement. “Weaseled? That was brilliant,” King says. The two make their way to ringside, where Amy sets down the cooler, and they slide into the ring. They walk over towards their corner which leads to an awkward conversation between the two. “This Lethal Lottery has definitely brought up some strange pairings but Drunk and Disorderly may be the oddest,” LDP says. “Man in the Box” by Alice in Chains begins and it incites an explosive reaction. Black and red pyrotechnics explode before the smoke lingers in the air. Insane Luchador walks out to another huge round of cheers as he just glares at Blank. He stops at the beginning of the aisle but doesn’t even break his glare. Blank fakes a sarcastic reaction of fear and mouths insults to his opponent. “First, hailing from Easton, Pennsylvania- weighing in at 221 pounds… IIIIINNNNSSSAAANNNEEEEEE LLLUUUCCCHHHAADOOOR!” The music fades but is immediately replaced by “I’m Alive” by Disturbed begins with the flashing white lights. There’s a lingering pause before Kevin Coyote cockily struts onto the entrance ramp while talking on his cell phone, dressed in his jean jacket and a brand new SWF T-shirt - this one reads "Turn Up The Volume." “That disrespectful…” LDP begins but keeps his mouth shut. “Go on, go smack the taste out of his mouth. I mean, Pete, you put Bing Crosby to shame with that beating,” King taunts his announcing partner. “…And his partner, from Brunswick, Georgia- weighing in at 225 pounds… to make up a combined total of 446 pounds. The team of KKEEEEVVIIINN CCCOOOYYOOTTEE AND IIINNNSSAAANNEEE LLLUUCCHHAADOOOR!” Kevin Coyote hangs up his phone as if it was inconvenient for him and follows Luchador down the aisle. The two share brief words and both shake their heads in a stalemate as they hit ringside. They slide into the ring and stand up just to argue. Matthew Kivell steps in between the violate group as he glances over to each team. Blank points to Luchador and then down to his boot with a smug grin. He goes out onto the ring apron as Stephens walks to the center of the ring. Insane Luchador and Coyote continue to bicker and climaxes as Kevin gives his partner a slight shove. “This is their first time teaming up and these are two people who aren’t used to company,” LDP says. “Well, Kevin did grow up without his…” “Shut up!” Kivell saves the team from internal combustion as he waves Coyote over to center of the ring. IL growls as he retreats over to his corner in frustration and switches his focus to Blank across the ring. Meanwhile, Coyote removes his jean jacket and tosses it out of the ring. “Well we have a rematch from Storm as Kevin Coyote and Amy Stephens are the first to square off,” LDP says. “I got my money on Shortdogger.” DING! DING! DING! Amy turns around to a rambling Bruce Blank and her opponent decides to ambush. He smashes her in back of the head with a double axehandle as she stumbles forward in pain. “Here we go again! Could you ever be a man, huh?” LDP yells. His son only glances over but it’s all the time Amy needs as she pounces onto him with a Lou Thesz press. She begins to hammer him with punches in an identical fashion to their match on Storm. However he throws up his arms to absorb the blows with surprising efficiency and Stephens eases up. She stands up and uses the tip of her black and pink Vans to smack him in the floating ribs while he is still down. “History repeats itself,” King mumbles. He rolls onto his knees so he can wrap his arms around Amy’s thighs and takes her down with a double leg takedown. He leans on his knees and raises a fist high into the air for a gut punch but Stephens reacts quickly with a kick right into his face. He clutches his face and crumbles to the canvas while she rolls to her feet. “Pete,” King says with a tone of shame. “Your son doesn’t even know how to go down on a woman!” She waves at him to get up as he gets to one knee and looks up in anger. He foolishly lunges out at her but Amy side steps out of the way. He rolls forward in momentum onto his feet and instinctively ducks as Amy’s kick attempt whizzes over him. He shoots back with his own kick that smacks Stephens in the ribs. He jumps into the air and floors her with a dropkick. They rush to their feet but Coyote proves to be quicker and is able to launch off two quick right hands that daze his opponent. He bounces into the ropes and as he approaches swings out for a vicious forearm but it is barely ducked underneath as he staggers forward from the momentum. Amy takes advantage and throws her leg up to a vicious kick aimed at the back of his head. It smacks on target and even leaves an echo as he drops to all fours on the canvas in a barely audible groan. Stephens hops over to his side and drops down to the canvas to wrap an arm around his head for a side headlock. But she quickly switches gears as she moves the arm down to his neck for a chokehold instead. Kivell protests but then begins the count. She tries to slide her arm up for another side headlock but Coyote elevates his lower body and frees his head with a hold on her arm as he rolls over to catch her in a hammerlock. He cranks the arm forward to Amy’s grunts of protest as she finds herself in an unfamiliar situation. He cautiously moves to sit on his knees while keeping the hold locked in. He begins to stand up but only drops down to the canvas to knee Stephens in her ribs. Kivell asks if she wants to quit but gets a laugh in response so Kevin stands a bit and drives another knee into her ribs. He extends her arm and begins to stand up as she is forced to follow. He holds her arm into the arm before violently pulling it back down and then holds it above his head as he begins to twist it again. He completes the twist and she flips over onto the canvas back first with her arm still under his control. But instead of following up he lets go of the arm and mimics waving her up like she did earlier. “Amy Stephens isn’t exactly a technical wizard so even if he isn’t looking to wear down a body part it is still under his control,” King says. “Yeah, well, Coyote isn’t any Flesher or Francis…” LDP bitterly replies. She slowly stands to her feet and takes a few steps back to recollect herself while rolling her shoulder. Coyote puts his hands into the air and approaches looking for a tie up but Amy responds with a huge bitch slap with a painfully loud echo. He rubs his cheek as he just stares indifferently at the fired up Stephens and he lunges out with a right hand. It connects, so he throws another, and another, but finally Amy is able to block it with her arm. Then with her free hand she unleashes her own blow that dazes Coyote. She bounces into the ropes and comes out with a huge dropkick but Coyote side steps and swats it down. Amy hits against the canvas and Kevin drops down for an elbow drop but she rolls away just in time. They scramble back up onto their feet and she throws a swift kick directly at his face. But Kevin jukes body back to barely avoid the kick to his relief. He lunges forward in an attempt to grapple and the two tie up as it goes back-and-forth. However, Amy draws back her head and smacks Kevin in the face with a headbutt and she locks in a front headlock. But to her surprise Kevin Coyote is able to slip his way out again as he keeps his head tucked underneath her chin, reaches up to lace his fingers around her neck, and drops to the canvas with a jawbreaker. She hits the canvas and rolls away to safely stand up. Meanwhile Coyote looks over to his corner to see Luchador still glaring across the ring at Bruce Blank. He shakes his head and turns his attention back to Amy and eats a headbutt right in the mouth. He grabs his mouth with a groan as he stumbles back towards his corner. She throws a sloppy haymaker that Coyote is able to duck underneath and as she is off balance he grabs the back of her head then drops to the canvas. “Facecrusher, Coyote may have turned the tide right there,” LDP says bitterly. He stands up with a cocky little smile and grabs a handful of her black hair. He tugs her up to her feet and then sends her into the ropes. He bounces into the opposite pair and as the two come charging at each other on a collision course he throws a brutal high kick that connects right into Amy’s face. She is floored to the canvas as Kevin is relentless and immediately grabs her by her head. He begins to bring her up to both knees but suddenly her head conveniently swings forward to headbutt him in the groin to a squeak from Coyote. “Oh, say goodbye to grandkids.” King groans in sympathy while LDP not-so-silently snickers. He tries to ignore the pain but begins to fall down to the canvas while Stephens acts innocent when Kivell confronts her. She begins to crawl towards her corner and as Coyote falls to both knees on the canvas he snatches a hold of her ankle. He begins to tug her back in but she frees her foot, turns over onto her back, and kicks him in the chest. He crumbles to the canvas with a moan as she slowly picks herself up to her feet. He looks up to see Stephens using the ropes as she stands up. Amy proves to be a tough girl as she shakes off the kick to the face and begins to walk over to an eager Bruce Blank. Then he flops onto his back where he can hear Insane Luchador screaming behind him. “She’s looking to tag in Bruce Blank and it’d be a very smart thing if Coyote tagged in Luchador,” LDP says. “Why, so they can lose? One testicle or not, Coyote can handle Blank better,” King bluntly says. He flops over to his stomach and pushes himself to all fours before slowly standing up. He hears a slap and turns around to see the Trailer Park Messiah enter the ring with a huge, malicious grin on his face. In response Coyote sucks up the pain as he stumbles towards Luchador who barely has a hold on the tag ropes from leaning into the ring in desperation. Bruce Blank rushes forward and the fans nearly turn riotous as IL is ready to be tagged in. Coyote throws his hand out as their fingers look ready to skim each other but he is yanked back by Blank! The fans groan and break into jeers as the Ultraviolent Champion tugs him in just to club him in the back of the head with a forearm. He sways forward to drop from the hard blow but Blank keeps a hold of his shirt to hoist him back up to his feet. Bruce Blank spins his opponent to face him as he whips him into the ropes near Luchador. He hits the ropes and in that millisecond of hope tries to tag in his partner but simply can’t reach because of the tag ropes. Instead he takes a different tactic as he rebounds and retaliates with a beautiful spinning wheel kick that slams right into Bruce’s chest. Both of the men collapse to the canvas and Coyote turns onto his stomach in an attempt to scramble to his corner for salvation. But Blank rolls up to his feet and grabs the inner thighs of each of Coyote’s legs, yanking them towards his gut as they split like a wishbone, and he nearly claws at the canvas in desperation. Bruce Blank wraps his arms around Coyote in a gutwrench hold as he gives a taunting wink to Luchador before arching back to throw Kevin over in a wheelbarrow suplex! The fans break into a chorus of jeers at the Ultraviolent Champion and his lengths to keep IL away. “Look at the desperation that Blank is using to avoid Coyote, that wheelbarrow suplex is a new one for him,” LDP says in disgust. “Desperation, what do you mean desperation? He winked at IL so we know he’s messing with his head.” King echoes the other side of the issue. Blank stands up and sarcastically dusts off his hands to incite more jeers as he gives a quick stomp to keep Coyote from retreating. He bends down and grabs him by his head and neck, yanking him up to his feet. He allows Kevin Coyote to gently sway like wheat in the wind just for his sick amusement of Coyote’s helplessness. The Ultraviolent Champion slightly bends down to grab Coyote’s inner thigh and plants a hand on his chest. The fans groan as Bruce hoists him into the air for his signature guerilla press. He walks in center of the ring where he slowly turns to face Rickmen as he easily begins to boost his strength with treating Coyote like a weight. He bends his arms to thrust Coyote into the air again but Kevin throws an awkward slap into the back of Blank’s head. The fans can’t help but to burst into cheers as Coyote uses that slight window of opportunity to push himself off from Blank’s arm and shoulders to escape. He lands on the canvas behind Blank and throws a knee into his lower back. The Ultraviolent Champion arches his back in pain he gets an arm wrapped around his neck and gets taken down with a reverse DDT. Coyote rolls to his feet in hope as he begins to walk towards Luchador for the tag. But Blank is quick to recover as he swings his legs on the canvas over to trip Coyote down to the canvas. He scrambles to capitalize as Kevin begins to walk on his knees towards Insane Luchador who leans out with a psychotic grin on his face. “Oh here we go, here we go,” LDP says. “Finally we get to see IL get dismantled,” King says in equal anticipation. Blank throws his arm forward and grabs a hold of Coyote’s ankle to pull him back. Coyote falls into a seating position as his hand shoots out and tags Insane Luchador in to the roar from the fans! Bruce Blank growls in anger as he stands up and Kevin gets onto his knees facing Blank. He grins as he draws back his fist and sends a vicious punch into Blank’s gut that halts him in his tracks. The crowd erupts as Insane Luchador leaps onto the top rope and springboards off towards Blank near the center of the ring. He flies over and connects with a flying clothesline that smacks him against the canvas while Luchador gracefully rolls up to his feet. Amy Stephens hesitates but enters the ring in hopes to even the odds. She enters the ring but gets rushed by Coyote as the two begin to exchange right hands. Insane Luchador stands behind Blank impatiently as his heavy breathing seems to be heard all across the arena. “Look at that, one move and he’s winded!” “No, that’s seething with rage,” LDP says with a huge smile. The Ultraviolent Champion scrambles to his feet and turns around just to get bombarded by the Ill One! He throws a sloppy right hand that Luchador ducks and then a left that he weaves past. He launches a right hand followed by a swift left kick and a jab right into Bruce’s face. He then quickly spins around and nails Blank in the face with a spinning backfist that sends him backpedaling. Kivell can’t seem to control the short outbreak of pandemonium as he sends Coyote and Stephens back to their corners before turning around to see IL and Blank. The two hardcore titans begin to go toe-to-toe with right hand blows until Blank gains the advantage. He then creams the Luchador with a hard forearm but Rickmen bounces back to his feet. Again the two begin to trade blows and Luchador begins to take control as he peppers his opponent with quick strikes while unleashing kicks that echo in the arenas. “Christ, these two are ripping into each other!” “Just wait until Blank takes Luchador seriously,” King says. Luchador’s streak is halted by a cheap eye rake followed by a tremendous elbow to his face. Blank unleashes a haymaker that had potential for decapitation had IL not ducked underneath. IL tries a different strategy as he shoots down to the canvas in an attempt to sweep him down by his legs. But Blank is smart enough to anchor his weight and just send a clubbing forearm to his back to fend him off. The Ultraviolent Champion then hits a standing legscissors and laughs as Luchador tries to backdrop the massive Blank in vain. He wraps his arms around IL’s waist and hoists him into the air for a powerbomb as the fans scream in disapproval. “Sweet Home Alabama, that running powerbomb,” LDP says. “I told you that IL would get dismantled,” King says. He walks to center of the ring where he begins to run in a semi-circle and is a second away from slamming him through the canvas. He even seems to have pinpointed an imaginary dot in dead center of the ring until Insane Luchador busts out a hurricanrana in reversal! He even holds the move out on the end in an attempt for a pin- “IL just reversed it with a pinning hurricanrana!” ONE! Both Coyote and Stephens spring to life as they quickly enter the ring and charge at the scene. TWO! But Blank breaks the pin with a loud grunt of frustration as Insane Luchador tauntingly laughs at the Ultraviolent Champion. "Well, that didn't work," says King. Coyote and Stephens are coaxed back into their respective corners by Matthew Kivell as Insane Luchador and Bruce Blank continue their war. Blank deals some damage to IL with a pair of shoulder thrusts, then grabs him by the arm and whips him into the ropes. Unfortunately, IL accidentally collides with an unprepared Kivell on his way to the ropes, and both wrestler and referee tumble to the canvas! "Uh oh, IL just took out the ref!" says King. "I think Blank was actually responsible for that," clarifies Pete. Matthew Kivell is unconscious, lying on the mat, but that doesn't stop the pitched battle from continuing between Blank and the Luchador. IL is back to his feet fairly quickly, but Blank is there to deal out more punishment. Blank throws a forearm at IL, striking him in the upper body, and IL returns the favor with a forearm of his own. Blank and IL continue this exchange two more times, trying to pit strength vs. strength. Suddenly a chorus of boos rings out through the arena as another man emerges on the stage and begins running down the ramp - Wayne Blank, Bruce's brother and Drunk and Disorderly's new manager! "Here comes Wayne Blank!" shouts LDP. "What the hell's he doing out here?" "Managing his team, of course!" answers King. Wayne Blank immediately runs down to the timekeeper's table and grabs an empty steel folding chair. He folds up the chair and tosses it into the ring. The referee, being insensate, is naturally oblivious to this action. "Look at this blatant cheating from the Blanks!" hollers LDP. Inside the ring, Bruce Blank backs up, leaning against the ropes for leverage and then hurling his body weight at IL, knocking him over in a flying clothesline. IL drops to the mat and Blank makes a play for the steel chair, but he isn't alone - Kevin Coyote also enters the ring to try to get the chair! Blank strikes at Coyote with an eye gouge, then grabs Coyote with both hands and hurls him toward the ropes. Coyote falls through the ropes, between the second and third ropes, and lands on the floor below. Blank grabs the chair and again advances on IL, who is struggling to get up from the clothesline. A collective gasp can be heard in the arena as Blank swings the chair and it connects against the side of IL's head! SMACK! IL slumps to the mat, defeated. Blank lies atop IL, tosses the chair aside, and hooks the Luchador's leg for a cover! "That cheating bastard!" hollers Pete. Despite the cover, Matthew Kivell is still unconscious, so no count can be made! Amy Stephens, seeing this, climbs into the ring to try to rouse the referee and get a count made. Outside the ring, an enraged Kevin Coyote grabs his jean jacket and pulls something small and metallic out of his pocket. Coyote slides back into the ring and violently pulls Blank off IL, then punches him hard in the face. Blank collapses on the mat, and a line of blood can be seen forming over his forehead. Coyote smiles, then takes a moment to remove a set of brass knuckles from around his left hand! "Coyote hit Blank with the knuckles!" exclaims Pete. "And the Ultraviolent Champion has been violently busted open!" Coyote covers Blank for a pinfall attempt, and surprisingly, Kivell comes around and begins to make a slow count! ONE! "What the hell are you doing!" shouts King. TWO! "He's not even the legal man!" THREE! DING DING DING! "Kivell was confused and must've thought Coyote was the legal man!" shouts LDP. "But whatever the case, Coyote and IL have won this matchup!" "The winners of this match," announces Funyon on the microphone, "KEEEEVIN COYOOOOOTE AND INSAAAANE LUCHADOOOOOORRRR!" "Well, a surprise finish to this one," says Pete, "but we have our winning team as Coyote and IL upset Drunk and Disorderly to take their first win in the Lethal Lottery Tournament! Folks, don't go away! We'll be right back with our next match!"

“I’M BORN!” “I’M ALIVE!” “I BREATHE” “I’M BORN” “I’M ALIVE” “I BREAHTE” Incubus’ “Vitamin” hits, and the fan favorite, Zyon breaks out of the curtains, to a raucous pop. “Imagine” Pete laughs, “Imagine Spike, if Zyon were to walk out of here without the Cruiserweight title!” “Pfft, imagine Mr. Kobe if Akira and Cross both walked out of St. Paul with wins!” King exclaims The Unique Youth strides down the aisle, high fiving his fans. Zyon rolls into the ring, through the bottom ropes, getting up, rising to the turnbuckle, throwing his arms in the air, to another huge pop. “And if you save yourself . . .you will make him happy” “HE’LL KEEP YOU IN A JAR, AND YOU’LL THINK YOU’RE HAPPY!” The pudgy, suited Mr. Kobe breaks out, and his masked client, Akira Kaibatasu soon follows. The music plays, as Akira and Kobe slowly walk next to each other, Kobe slapping the back of his left hand against his right palm, driving a point to Akira, as Akira nods. They slide into the ring. Funyon picks up a microphone, and the biggest man in the ring begins to talk. “In the right corner, standing at 5’11, from Ekhart India, The Unique Youth . . .. ZYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNN” Funyon stops for a moment, to let the crowd pop again. “And in the left, being accompanied by Mister Kobe . . . By way of Sendai Japan . . . THE DIVINEE WIND AKIRAAAAAAA KAIIIIIBAAAATSSUUUUUUUUUUU” Akira rolls his shoulders, as the crowd pops for him as well. Funyon continues, “This match will be decided by ONE FALL . . . and is for the ESS DOUBLEYOU EFF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIOOOOONSHIIIIP” “This crowd is split between these two cruisers!” Pete cries. Akira and Zyon confront each other in the middle of the ring, before the match, and exchange some DING DING DING Both men approach each other, Akira offering his hand, for a Greco-roman knuckle lock. Zyon and Akira crouch down, twiddling their fingers, locking up. Zyon throws himself down at Akira’s legs, but Akira sees it coming, and moves out of the way, releasing the knuckle lock on his way out. The two lock up again, the same way. Akira goes after Zyon’s legs, diving at the ground, but Zyon turns the table, putting a front face lock on Kaibatsu. Akira pushes The Unique Youth out; spinning him, and grabbing at him, putting a rear waist lock in from the ground. Zyon squirms around on his ass, and reaches backwards, grabbing Akira’s head. Zyon uses the momentum from squirming to turn all the way around putting the face lock in. Akira tries the same pushing counter that got him out of the last face lock, and he almost gets Zyon all the way around, but Zyon pulls a fast one, and spins on his own, more than Akira had wished, putting in a fresh face lock. Akira grabs Zyon’s arm from under his face, pushing Zyon up, so they’re both at their feet, and twists around, breaking the face lock, and putting in a hammerlock. Zyon drops to his knees, and rolls backwards, for a pin, with his arm still behind his back. This doesn’t get a count before Akira throws him off. Zyon quickly rolls to the side of Akira and tries to put in a rear waist lock, but Akira side steps, and trying to put on his own by slipping behind Zyon. He locks it in briefly, but the Unique Youth spins, slips out, and shoves Akira forward, backing both into their own corner, for the crowd to cheer the chain wrestling spot. “A-KIR-A!” A-KIR-A!” “LETS GO ZYON! CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP!” King sighs, “It’s technical now, but in a few minutes, we’ll see their inner spot monkeys come out.” “I disagree King, Akira isn’t much of a spot monkey” King, trenchant as ever, “Akira just finished up a 5 match series of spots . . .” Mr. Kobe barks orders for Akira, as he fixes a kneepad. Then both competitors approach each other again. Zyon wiggles his fingers, asking for another Greco-roman knuckle lock. “Akira of course part of Asia Underground, who are 2-0 now, beating teams of Von Skull and Laberinto and Ced Ordonez” Pete sounds like he’s reading off the wrestling panda. Akira lets his left hand free of Zyon, and uses it to hits Zyon with an arm drag, sending him across the canvas. Akira keeps his arm hooked on Zyon’s, and wraps his legs around Zyon’s neck, and then releases his hand. Zyon rolls so that if his head weren’t driven into the ground by Akira’s legs, he would be facing Akira. He props his feet up, into a crouching position, and using his tremendous leg strength, flips forward out of the triangle choke, landing on his feet behind Akira. Zyon spins quickly, so he can lock in another rear waist lock. “Solid technical work from both men” Pete calls the action. Akira takes Zyon’s hand, pushing it out away from Kaibatsu’s waist. With one ear listening to orders from Mr. Kobe, Akira lifts Zyon’s arm above his head, and wrenches it, coming back down. Zyon uses his free hand to elbow Akira square in the eye, though, so Akira backs away. Both back into their own corner. Both come back into the center, and shake hands, respecting the technical work they’ve just done. The two lock up again, this time a collar and elbow tie-up. Zyon turns the tie-up into a cravate, and hits a snapmare, followed by a vicious kick to the back. King shouts, “OH! That’ll be a bruise!” You can clearly see through Akira’s body language that the kick stings, but he gets right up with pain in his back, reaching for yet another handshake with Zyon. Zyon complies, and shakes hands yet again. “A little one-upmanship going on here. Neither man wants to lose mentally.” Pete calls “And that’s a big part of this,” King does the color commentary, like he’s paid “If you can beat your opponent mentally, you have a huge advantage, and especially in the cruiserweight division, where one move can turn the entire match around to win it.” The two meet back in the center of the ring, and put in a greco-roman knuckle lock, for what seems like the thousandth time. Akira pushes forward, trying to send Zyon to his back, but Zyon pushes back, doing the same to Akira. “This is what I’m talking about,” King says. “A knuckle lock turned into a test of strength just because neither man wants to be worse than the other.” “It’s amazing how quickly and easily this match escalated into that, King.” “Well, both men saw that the other could out-wrestle him, if they missed a beat. That brings out the best in people.” Akira quickly gives up on the test of strength, bringing all 4 arms in. Akira ducks under all the arms, and rolls backwards, twisting Zyon’s arms downward. Akira pushes Zyon near the turnbuckle, without actually touching it. King breaks the whole match down, “Watch, Zyon, while he’s in pain, is thinking of a way to show Akira that he’s no slouch with this stuff either.” And Zyon does just that. Zyon twists his arms back up, and kicks Akira’s left knee, sending him to the ground. Zyon holds on to Akira’s arm though, and drops to the canvas, pulling Akira’s arm back. “Zyon’s got a cross arm-breaker in!” Pete yelps “Could be over quick! Kaibatsu uses his free arm to grab at the rope, as he screams in pain. Zyon respects the rules, and lets go of the hold. “This is what I mean, Longdogger” King begins to explain, “They don’t want to lose. Of course they don’t, it’s wrestling. But they HAVE to be better than the other man, and it’s not driven out of hate. It’s because they respect each other so much. They want the other man to think highly of them.” Zyon and Akira approach each other, Kaibatsu offering a Greco-roman knuckle lock, but Zyon’s sick of those, so he plunges at Akira’s knee, like he did earlier, this time successful, and puts in a leg lock. Akira wont accept losing this battle of one-upmanship though. He grabs Zyon’s leg, and bends it askew over Akira’s own head “Now there’s innovation, King!” Pete is stunned. “What the hell is that? Zyon’s got a leg lock, I can see that, but is Akira bending Zyon’s leg over his head? What the hell?” “It seems to be working, King” And it certainly is. Zyon is hollering in pain, just as Akira is as well. Zyon’s had enough of the technical hoo-ha though, and he throws an overhand club at Akira’s head, sending is down to the mat, allowing Zyon to get it away from Akira. Zyon backs away from Akira, who gets up as well. Akira curses in Japanese, and approaches Zyon. Kaibatsu screams, and shoves The Unique Youth’s chest. Zyon shoves right back. Akira wants to throw a big right hand at Zyon, and it looks like he will, but instead he just offers another handshake. Zyon has a look on his face that screams what he’s probably feeling. “What the fuck are you doing?” And he declines the handshake, backing away. “This is bizarre” Pete mumbles King has a moment, where you don’t really say anything, but everyone knows what he’s saying. “Uh, I, ah, uh, yeh,” Akira shrugs it off, as Zyon comes right back at Akira. They put a collar and elbow tie up on each other, and Zyon use force to send Akira into the turnbuckle with the hold. Akira puts his leg on the turnbuckle, causing Nick Soapdish to tell Zyon to break the hold. Zyon reluctantly obeys. Akira steps right back into the middle of the ring, and offers Zyon on more handshake. Zyon doesn’t want anything to do with it though, he sticks his face right at Akira’s and the two exchange words. Neither man understands the other, but they exchange lot’s of dirty words, from 3 different languages. Akira’s boiling point rises, and takes his right hand, and slaps Zyon right across the face, sending spit to Akira’s left. Zyon doesn’t express any pain, he simply slaps right back. “Now the match will erupt! Here it comes!” King gets ready for the fast paced action to come. Akira wipes his face, and stares at Zyon. He takes his hand, perhaps preparing for another slap. But it’s not a slap. Another handshake. Zyon stares at Akira’s hand, and now cooled off a bit, and shakes Akira’s hand. “What the hell is going on King” Pete asks “Your guess . . . good as mine” King shrugs. The two lock up, collar and elbow style again. Akira turns this into a side headlock, and he squeezes Zyon’s head, competitively hard. Zyon takes the side headlock, and tries to reverse it into a back suplex. Akira uses his great balance, to backflip out of it, landing on his feet. Akira takes Zyon’s arms, and puts them in a chicken wing. He flips backwards, hitting a tiger suplex, but he takes it just that much farther, planting Zyon on his face. “Oh my god! Akira hit the Rising sun! But he’s not locking in the cattle mutilation part of it!” Pete continues to call the action, no matter how bizarre it may be. Zyon rolls over onto his back, as Akira climbs the turnbuckle nearest to where he hit the move. The Divine Wind leaps into the air, as the cameras flash, and the fans in St. Paul stare and Akira leaping into the air, driving his back into Zyon’s stomach, completing his picture perfect Senton splash. “Kaibatsu seals it!” Pete jumps off his seat almost. King stays calm. “Picture perfect” Kaibatsu makes a cover on Zyon, hooking one leg. Soapdish’s hand hits the mat definitively. ONE! TWOOO!!!! “New Champ!” THRENOOOOOOOOOFOOTONROPE!! King, Nonchalantly, “Akira hooked the wrong leg.” Akira knows it too. He squeezes his temples with his thumb and ring finger. Kobe is trying to sooth Akira, on the outside, but Akira just gets angry and picks up Zyon by the hair. Akira tucks Zyon’s head under his armpit, and lifts his arm over his shoulder, setting up for a suplex. Akira lifts him up, and gets him completely vertical, before dropping the Unique Youth, twisting him on his way down, planting him on his knee, completing the Divine Backbreaker. “Owww!” Pete cries, as Akira makes another cover, hooking both legs this time. ONE! TWOOOOO THREEEROLLSTHESHOULDER~! Akira gives Soapdish a glance, but Mr. Kobe screams something, and Akira quickly erases the thought. Zyon rolls toward the ropes, not even making it to his feet. The champ is reeling, and Akira senses it. He stalks the champ, bending his knees, standing a few feet behind Zyon. The Unique Youth turns his body around, facing Kaibatsu. He didn’t see Kaibatsu for long though, as it was more of Akira’s boot, crushing his nose and cheek. “Shining Gamenguri! Gotta be it!” Pete calls another finish. ONEEE!!!!!! TWOOOOOOO! THNOTQUITE! Half the crowd sighs, the other lets out a giant “ohhhhhhhhh”. You can see the frustration through Akira’s mask. The part of his mask where the eye brows are tilt downward. His mouth opens, so we can see the upper part of his jaw. He’s not screaming, but it sure looks like his is. Pissed off at his lack of capitalization, Akira grabs Zyon by the hair again, and locks in a cravate. Pete jumps off his seat again, “Akira’s going for the Divine Wind!” Akira starts to run with the cravate in, going for the Divine Wind, but Zyon slides his arm under Akira’s grasp, and back over his head, in reverse DDT position. Zyon uses his free arm, and the rest of his body, to twirl, putting Akira’s throat against his shoulder. Zyon drops down, hitting the Wicked Cutter. Akira falls to the ground from pain, and Zyon from lack of stamina. “The tide has turned, Zyon has to take advantage.” King calls. Akira crawls to a corner, the one nearest Mr. Kobe, as Zyon just does his best to get to his feet. After struggling, and long periods of time without any movement from either men, both are back to their feet. King advises, “They both need to slow it down a bit. I know these are the cruisers, but they could be here for a lot longer. They need to pace themselves.” Akira takes a step to his left, and through the ring apron. He needs to catch his breath, and make some adjustments to his gear, so he goes outside to do so. Mr. Kobe gives him a pat on the back, and then instructs him to get in the ring. Akira slides in, and meets Zyon face to face in the middle. Both men’s anger has cooled quite a bit. Zyon offers a handshake this time. “Good god, what the hell is going on,” King exercising the disbanding of family friendly rules. Akira gladly shakes Zyon’s hand. But Zyon is not so glad; he quickly turns the shake into an Irish whip! Zyon throws Akira into a turnbuckle, and quickly runs after him. Zyon tries to elbow Kaibatsu, but Akira gets his forearm in first, sending Zyon back a few feet, becoming momentarily groggy. Akira runs at the stupefied opponent, and sunset flips over, attempting a pin out of it. Pete yelps, “WHAAAT?!” King is still confused, “At first the hand shakes kinda made sense. Now I’m a little confused.” Zyon wont take the move though, he musters up the strength to lift Akira, for a powerbomb. Zyon tries to slam him, but he just can’t get Akira all the way up to complete it, and Kaibatsu manages to escape, and scurries away to the adjacent turnbuckle. Akira makes his way to his feet, still standing by the turnbuckle. He looks up, from his feet, and sees Zyon running right at him, with his elbow in the air. When Zyon reaches Akira, Akira finds the ring poise to duck, and flip Zyon over to the canvas. Akira rotates, throwing an elbow at the apron, but Zyon is quicker to the punch, throwing a closed fist at Akira’s temple, knocking him back. Zyon leaps over the apron, and bounces off the ropes. He flies forward, throwing his forearm at Akira, giving up his body to win the match. “Picture perfect springboard!” Pete shills Akira is stunned from the forearm, and rolls out of the ring once more, as Zyon approaches the ropes, grabbing them, pulling back. Pete calls the action, “Looks like Zyon’s gonna keep flyin’!” Zyon flies over the ropes, twisting as he soars. But Akira keeps his cool, and slides into the ring, avoiding plancha. Zyon is not so lucky, as he hits his knee on the barricade, by over jumping. Akira uses the momentum he gained from sliding to get up, and bounce off the far ropes. He runs back, and baseball slides through the bottom and second rope, hitting Zyon square in the jaw. “Owwww!” King sells Akira goes through the top and middle rope to get to the outside, and when he gets there, he stomps Zyon. Nick Soapdish comes out, and warns Akira to get back in the ring, before he realizes the 20 count is in effect, and begins to count. Akira finally switches his attention back to Zyon, who is now at his knees. Zyon tries to make the best of a bad situation for offense, by throwing Akira into the barricade. This doesn’t do a lot of damage, but it gives Zyon time to get up. As soon as The Unique Youth reaches his feet, he clubs fore arms at Akira, and grabs him by the mask, taking him around the ring. He visits a new side of the ring, and holds his free hand up in the air, for the crowd to pop, before throwing Akira right into the barricade yet again. Zyon holds on to Akira’s mask, but switches over to his arm. “GAMEPLAN THIS!” Zyon shouts at the crowd, to a thunderous cheer, and Zyon whips Akira across the outside, but Akira baseball slides down, slowing his momentum before he could hit another barricade. Zyon anticipated Akira would have the smarts to do that though, and ran at him right away. Kaibatsu thinks quickly, seeing the Indian running at him, so he trips Zyon up, for a drop toe hold to the ground. “FOUR!!” “FIVE” King mutters, “Not a very fast counter . . .” Akira tells the fans by him to move out of the way (via hand motions of course) and they obey. Akira picks up Zyon by the hair, and takes his left foot. He lifts it high up into the air, making it hard for Zyon to balance. He rotates Zyon around, so he’s facing the crowd, and . . . SNAP! “Akira just threw Zyon’s leg down the barricade!” King screams. Akira turns around to adjust his knee pads again. They seem to be bothering him, as Zyon lies on the ground holding his leg. Zyon doesn’t want Akira to take advantage so easily though, so he trips Akira at his feet, sending him to his face. Akira takes the blunt of the fall with his right elbow, but it’s stopped him none the less. Both men get up rather quickly, but both are in obvious pain. Zyon holding his leg, and Akira feels the pain in his right arm. Kaibatsu still has his back to Zyon though, and the Unique Youth throws a clubbing fore arm at Akira’s back, and then throws him into the ring. Zyon slides in right after Akira, and both men stand. Barely stand, but they stand. Zyon throws a viscous knife edged chop right at Akira’s chest. Akira combats it with a knife edged of his own. Zyon throws a knife edged, and the “WHOOOO” chants erupt. Akira mixes it up then, with an overhand chop, but Zyon feels no need to break the pattern, throwing yet another knife edged chop. Zyon then ends the chop battle, by jumping up, and side kicking Akira’s injured right arm, with Zyon’s healthy left leg, and both men go down to the floor. Zyon hobbles to his fallen opponent, and lifts him by the mask. Zyon tucks Akira’s head under his arm pit, and snaps backwards, hitting a snap suplex. Zyon tries to keep Akira under his arm, to connect another snap suplex, but it’s too much for his leg to lift him back up. Zyon gets up by himself though, and lifts Akira by the mask again. He gives Akira a solid punch in the gut, doubling him over, before limping to the ropes, and bouncing off with as much velocity as is possible at this point, throwing a palm strike at Akira’s temple! Zyon makes a cover, hooking the leg! ONEEE!! TWOOOO!!! THRNOOO! “Ohhh! The Palm strike almost gets it done!” Pete gasps. Zyon wobbles back up to his feet, and by grabbing his arm, takes Akira with him. Zyon whips Akira into the turnbuckle, making sure to use the injured right arm. Zyon tries to suck in the pain, as he runs towards Akira, throwing an elbow at the cornered puroresu. Zyon stays close to Akira, throwing elbows and forearms. It’s strikes galore, until Akira grabs Zyon’s injured right leg. Kaibatsu pushes Zyon backwards with the leg, but Zyon uses his great balance and speed to flip backwards, and land, left foot first, and tenderly lands the right one. The Unique Youth then tries to toe kick Akira, right to the gut, but Akira catches it with his left hand. Zyon shows he’s just as poised as Akira is; knowing what to do in this situation. Zyon takes his free foot, and sends it flying across Akira’s face, for an enziguri. Akira shakes his head, trying to ignore the pain. Kaibatsu then let’s out one giant scream, and keeps hold of Zyon’s foot. “RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” “Akira still has Zyon’s foot there!” Pete is running out of breath from all the screaming. Zyon hops his way back to one foot, and sends his foot flying again, hoping to land another enziguri, but Akira ducks under it, and spins Zyon a few extra times, for a modified dragon screw! “Dragon screw!” Pete calls. “That’s gotta KILL Zyon’s leg!” Akira stays on the offensive though. He knows he has to if he wants to be Cruiserweight champion. Kaibatsu approaches the fallen body of the Unique Youth, and rolls him over so he’s on his stomach. Akira plants his foot in Zyon’s knee joint, and lifts, slamming it down. “Oh my god, Zyon’s leg is going to tear off.” King says. “A-KIR-A! A-KIR-A!” “LET’S GO ZYON! CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP!” Akira takes a deep breath, and then drops down with his fist driving into Zyon’s skull. “Classic, Old school fist drop,” Pete calms down a bit, and Akira makes a cover. ONE! TWOOO!!! THRNOOOOKICKOUT! “NO! Zyon kicks out!” The sight of a pinfall always excites Pete. Akira gets right up from the pin, and he stares at Zyon’s leg. Akira then jumps way up into the air, and stomps right down onto Zyon’s injured leg. Kaibatsu then steps on Zyon’s left leg, as he grabs his right one, and rotates. “Spinning toehold. Simple, but very effective in this situation.” King comments. Akira spins that hold until it has done all it can do, and then he releases it. He doesn’t stop the offense though. He lifts the injured leg, and drops an elbow right into the middle, causing Zyon to scream out in extraordinary pain. “A very good strategy from Akira. Keep it simple, but effective.” King breaks the match down. Akira picks Zyon up by the hair again, and forearms him in the stomach. He tucks Zyon’s head beneath his armpit, and tries for a suplex, but Zyon plants his feet, blocking the way. Zyon turns the tables with this, flipping Akira, and then dropping him on his head. CRAAAAACCCCKKK! “Oh my god! It’s the snap brainbuster! It’s over! It’s over!” Pete screams Zyon makes the cover, hooking both legs. Soapdish’s hands have never moved slower for Zyon. ONE! TWOOOOOOOO THREEHOLYSHITNO! “Oh my god, Akira kicked out!” Pete wails. “How will this end!?” Zyon, shakes his head, but gets right back up, and drags Akira along with him, picking him up by the mask. “Zyon and Akira only have so much left. I don’t know what they can pull out.” Zyon has a few more in his arsenal though. He grabs Akira’s head, and wraps his arm around it. Falling backwards, he hits a reverse STO. “Bahhhh! It’s the Decline!” Pete hollers. “He’s GOT to capitalize. He needs to hit the Final Flash.” King is stern in his words. “I don’t know if his legs can take the jump, King.” Zyon probably doesn’t even know if his right leg can take the jump, but it’s worth the risk. He escalates to the turnbuckle, jumping, and that’s when we find out that his legs can’t take it. Zyon lets out a booming yell upon climbing, and his face turns red. He’s slowed down greatly, and it takes him a while to get to the top and set up. “ . . . Can he do it?” Pete asks. Zyon takes a deep breath, and takes the leap. His Swan dive senton is the best in the business. The flip is flawless. There’s no wasted motion, and he lands with more impact than he’s hit in a while. But he made impact with the canvas. “AKIRA ROLLED OUT OF THE WAY!” Pete blurts. “Zyon could take the leap, but it took way too much time, Akira played possum wonderfully. Zyon rolls over, and lies on his stomach, in intolerable pain. Zyon went all in, and Akira had the nuts. Akira gets up, and grabs Zyon’s injured leg. Akira wraps his legs around Zyon’s. Akira twists Zyon’s leg, hyperextending the knee. “AKIRA HAS A CROSS-KNEE LOCK IN!” Pete shouts! “It’s gotta be over . . .” King says. Zyon screams. Zyon yells. Zyon hollers. Zyon can do anything with his voice he wants, but it wont stop his leg from tearing like a wet paper towel. The Unique Youth slams the palm of his hand against the mat, definitively, letting the whole world know he had just given up his title. The bell rings, and Mr. Kobe comes running into the ring. Akira is on his knees, with his hands in the air, screaming something in Japanese. Nick Soapdish brings him the new hard earned gold, and Akira hugs it, holding it like a new-born baby. Akira catches a glimpse of Zyon, who is limping his way out of the ring. Akira stops for a second, and pats Zyon on the back. Zyon turns, to see Akira extending a hand out. The champ, and ex-champ shake hands, yet again. King groans. “You know, King” Pete starts. “I don’t think there was any psychology to THAT handshake.”

“You sure, now, Michael” Mr. Kobe’s thick Japanese accent is distinctive on SWF television. Michael Cross nods. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it. My first main event. I want to go into that cage alone. Face Maddix by myself.” Mr. Kobe starts to say something, but quickly changes his mind, and says something different. “Alright, I’ve gotta go talk to Akira about his Cruiswerweight title match tonight. Go watch the tapes of Landon I gave you.”

“Welcome back to Lockdown,” Longdogger Pete declares as the formerly ‘Family Friendly’ show returns to the air. “We’ve seen one Lethal Lottery tag match so far tonight, and now it’s time for our second, as the so-far-unsuccessful tandem of the Crimson Skull and Jason Von Dierch look to avoid being clean swept as they take on their Pool A rivals Wildchild and Stryke.” “This match should prove quite the test to see just how good a tag wrestler Wildchild is,” the Suicide King interjects. “It’s one thing to win titles alongside a World Champion, lets see how he does in this tournament with the lead anchor that is Stryke riding his coattails… Then again, with the Crimson Skull and Jason Von Dierch team underwhelming at every turn so far, Wildchild could probably win this one single-handedly.” “I wouldn’t go deriding Stryke’s abilities so quickly, he is a former Tag Champion too, you know. And alongside arguably the greatest tag wrestler the SWF has seen this side of Chris Raynor, Stryke and Wildchild could be a real dangerous team in this tournament.” “Chris Raynor? Never heard of him.” LDP bites his tongue at his broadcast partner’s usual anti-Midnight Carnival bias, instead focusing his attention on the entrance as an eruption of sparks envelopes the stage, the cavalcade of dancers coming out to “Gonna Make You Sweat (Everybody Dance Now!)” by C & C Music Factory a stark contrast to the look of the Crimson Skull and Jason Von Dierch, two consecutive losses in the Lethal Lottery doing little for team morale. Skull’s assistant Heff as always follows his team doing his best to pump them up, but only serving to draw a wave of boos from the audience as Funyon begins the introductions. “The following contest is a Lethal Lottery tag match set for one fall!” bellows Funyon over the yelling crowd. “Entering first, accompanied by HEFF, the team of THE CRIMSON SKULL and JASON VON DIERCH!!” “Skull and Von Dierch are looking determined tonight,” Pete notes as each man steps into the ring. “If they’re to have any shot in this tournament they must win tonight; anything less and their shot at the Tag belts is over.” The St. Paul Minnesota crowd continues to jeer Von Dierch and Skull, but their reaction quickly does a complete 180 as “Bouncin’ Back” by Mystikal blares over the sound system, the crowd instantly on their feet in a raucous ovation for the Tropical Tumbler Wildchild! Wildchild darts towards the ring in a flash, Stryke not far behind as he slaps hands with the front row, Melissa Fasaki in tow applauding along with the sold-out crowd. “Now heading to the ring, accompanied by MELISSA FASAKI, the team of STRYKE and the WILDCHILD!!” “We’ve seen how Crimson Skull and Von Dierch have worked as a team, but the x-factor here is how Wildchild and Stryke operate together,” ponders LDP. “Nearly all of Wildchild’s tag experience is alongside Johnny Dangerous, he obviously won’t have the same connection in the ring with Stryke. And it’s been a long time since Stryke was a regular tag wrestler alongside Chris Wilson, so it remains to be seen how well he adapts to having to team up again after going solo for so long.” Stryke steps onto the apron and allows Wildchild to start things off, and seeing this, Heff immediately calls for The Crimson Skull to get in there, looking to take advantage of Skull’s massive power advantage over the Bahama Bomber. “Looks like Heff’s been thinking about this one,” King adds as the match is about to begin. “I know Wildchild will no doubt flip and flop and do his silly little acrobatic act to avoid tying up with Skull, but in a must-win situation Crimson Skull against Wildchild is their best chance of pulling it off. Wildchild might avoid 99 out of 100 Crimson Skull moves, but with the dramatic size and strength differential it’ll only take that one move that hits to crush Wildchild and end this.” DING! DING! DING! A roar rises from the stands as the latest chapter of the Lethal Lottery tournament gets underway, and the Crimson Skull wastes no time in moving after Wildchild in hopes of squishing him like a bug. Unsurprisingly Wildchild wants no part of that, circling around and keeping his distance from the skull-masked monster, allowing the big man to chase him. Wildchild closes the gap a little, launching a flurry of kicks at the thighs of the bigger man, but while Skull is staggered lightly he keeps coming, not ready to go down. After circling again WC looks to go on the offensive, bouncing off the ropes and moving to cut Crimson Skull down a little with a Shuffling Sidekick, but Skull is ready for it and latches his hands around Wildchild’s leg, holding it for a moment before shoving Wildchild backwards, the Caribbean Cruiser sent rolling backwards right back into his corner, unhurt but very aware of Crimson Skull’s strength as he shoved him away with ease. Wildchild moves to engage Crimson Skull once again, but as he does Stryke tags him on the back, out of view of Crimson Skull, whose full attention is on Wildchild and his plan to flatten him into a pancake. “A blind tag there,” a very observant LDP notes, “Stryke is now the legal man but I don’t think Crimson Skull realizes it!” Wildchild realizes it, though, quickly darting around Skull and leaving himself in between Skull and Von Dierch, Crimson Skull’s back turned to Wildchild’s Australian partner! The crowd grows in volume as Stryke scales the turnbuckles, both Heff and Von Dierch attempting to warm Skull… but it’s too late as Stryke flies off the top rope and sends the Crimson Skull crashing to the canvas with a pinpoint accurate Missile Dropkick! “What the hell was that?! Disqualify them!” King angrily protests over the cheering fans. “For what exactly? That was a perfectly legal tag; you saw it as well as I did.” “Don’t tell me what I did or didn’t see, Pete. Damned dirty CHEATERS, that’s what Stryke and Wildchild are!” Pete just plain ignores King’s outburst and instead focuses on the action in the ring, the impact of the dropkick sending Skull back in range of his own corner, Jason Von Dierch wasting no time in reaching in and making the tag, cutting off any potential pinfall attempts on his partner. Wildchild returns to his corner as Von Dierch steps through the ropes, the German native following his partner’s initiative as he aggressively goes after his opponent, locking up and utilizing his momentum to force Stryke back into the neutral turnbuckles, Von Dierch refusing to give a clean break as he lays into Stryke with a barrage of punches and forearm blasts. Stryke’s head is rocked backwards from the repeated blows, and the Australian has no answer as Von Dierch pulls him out of the corner, hooking him and swiftly taking Stryke over with a Vertical Suplex! “Von Dierch and Crimson Skull have both come out of the gate aggressively, and that’s not a bad strategy,” King says. “Take advantage of Stryke and Wildchild before they can get their timing down as a unit, they just need to avoid being over-aggressive and making mistakes, since as much as I dislike giving them any credit both Wildchild and Stryke are wrestlers that will take advantage of an error and make you pay for it.” Staying aggressive Von Dierch neglects to go for a pinfall, instead looking to pile on the damage as he pulls Stryke up by the arm, whipping him across the ring into the opposite corner. The crowd jeers as Von Dierch charges full steam ahead to crush Stryke with a Full-body Avalanche into the turnbuckles, but they’re soon given reason to cheer as Stryke gets his feet up, stopping Von Dierch in his tracks with a boot to the jaw! Jason staggers back but quickly regroups and charges again, this time Stryke dodging out of the way completely and leaving Von Dierch to crash into the turnbuckles. With an opportunity to take control presenting itself, Stryke doesn’t waste a second, taking hold of Von Dierch’s leg and snapping him down to the canvas with a Dragon Screw Leg Whip! While Heff yells for Von Dierch to make a tag from the outside, Stryke quickly pops to his feet, “The Rage” not even getting a chance to sit up, as Stryke leaps up and brings his whole bodyweight down onto Von Dierch’s chest with a Double Stomp! Jason Von Dierch is left gasping for breath as all the air was driven out of him, and the situation only gets worse as Stryke rebounds off the opposite ropes, coming back with a second nasty Double Stomp, followed by Stryke kicking his legs out and coming crashing down on Jason’s midsection with a Back Senton! The crowd goes up as one for the impressive combination of moves, Stryke hooking Von Dierch in a lateral press: ONE! TWO! Von Dierch rolls his shoulder at two! “Looks like you were right King, Jason Von Dierch was a little too reckless in going after Stryke and that enabled the Australian to grab the ascendancy in this contest,” Pete acknowledging a rare moment of Suicide King insight. “Still, we haven’t seen him tag in a little while, so Stryke has to change his mindset from that of a singles wrestler and bring Wildchild back in… take advantage of being able to rest on the apron after Jason got the jump on him.” Right on cue Stryke turns and rolls towards his corner, extending his hand end eliciting a huge roar from the fans as the ever-popular Wildchild steps back into the ring. Before returning to the apron, Stryke takes full advantage of the five-second period he has to leave, standing by Von Dierch as Wildchild explodes off the ropes. Stryke hooks his arm with Wildchild’s and lifts him into the air with a Hiptoss that sends the Tropical Tumbler crashing on top of Von Dierch! Not even a Skull Mask can hide the Crimson Skull’s displeasure at these developments, Melissa Fasaki cheering on from ringside as Wildchild hooks Von Dierch for a cover: ONE! TWO! THR— “The Rage” again kicks out before the count reaches three! “It would seem Stryke and Wildchild have done at least some basic preparations for working together tonight, first the quick tag leading to the Missile Dropkick and now Stryke using Wildchild as a weapon with that Hiptoss, while it’s still early days so far things are looking strong for this new pairing.” “One little double team move, big deal,” a far from impressed Suicide King fires back. “Pull this stuff off against an opponent the caliber of, say, Jay Hawke, and then maybe I’ll care. Speaking of Jay Hawke, I certainly hope our International Champion graces us with another appearance, we saw Hawke scouting up on Wildchild last week against Arch Griffon; hopefully he does the same tonight.” “Well whether he comes out to ‘scout’ Wildchild or not, you know Hawke will be watching this; lately wherever Wildchild has gone, Jay Hawke hasn’t been far away,” Pete replies. “With potential matches both in this very Lethal Lottery tournament and, if there’s any justice in the world, a re-match for the International Championship between Wildchild and Hawke in the coming weeks, you know that Hawke will be doing everything he can to get under Wildchild’s skin and give himself the edge.” “Moving on, what we’re left with now is the unique pairing of Wildchild and Jason Von Dierch, one of the very few match-ups where Wildchild actually possesses both the height and weight advantage,” Pete observes as Stryke steps out of the ring, leaving Von Dierch and Wildchild to go at it. “After spending so much of his time in the SWF fending off those larger and stronger than him this would have to be a refreshing change for Wildchild.” Von Dierch charges across the ring at Wildchild, but the Bahaman dips his shoulder and sends him flying with a back-body drop! WC beats Jason to his feet, running to the ropes and springing into the air as he rebounds to knock the Rage back down with a leg lariat! Wildchild pulls Von Dierch to his feet and leads towards the ropes, where he grabs him by the wrist and attempts to whip him across the ring, but Jason easily reverses. The Rage lowers his head as WC rebounds to deliver a back-body drop of his own, but the Human Hurricane leaps into the air, grabbing Von Dierch by the waist as he sails overhead, and pulls him backwards into a Sunset Flip! ONE! TWO! TH— KICKOUT! “A two-count,” notes LDP, “but it was awfully close!” Wildchild grabs Jason by the wrist and applies an arm-wringer, before shifting up into a wristlock. Von Dierch gets back to his feet and tries to push WC away, but the Bahaman twists his arm again. Finally, Von Dierch muscles WC against the ropes before whipping him across the ring. The Rage charges after Wildchild as he bounces off the ropes, arm raised to deliver a running lariat, but the Caribbean Cruiser ducks underneath and leaps onto the top rope, curling into a ball as he explodes back into the ring to knock Jason down with his patented Pinball attack! WC rolls onto him for a cover… ONE! TWO! THR— But only gets two! Wildchild beats Von Dierch to his feet, running to the ropes and springing into the air as he flies off, knocking down the Rage with a flying shoulderblock before he can get his feet set! WC runs back to the ropes and leaps off the canvas as he rebounds, extending his body to deliver a high cross-body block, but Jason snatches him out of the air and sends him straight up with a sensational military press slam! Wildchild gasps in vain to recover the air he’s just lost as he bounces off the mat! “What a phenomenal move by Von Dierch!” praises King. “Tremendous display of power!” Von Dierch pulls WC brusquely off the canvas, only to drop him again with a jawbreaker before tagging the Skull back in. Skull returns to the ring with a purpose, stalking over towards Wildchild as the Bahaman attempts to get back to his corner, and knocks him back to his knees with a ferocious forearm smash to the back! Another forearm flattens WC against the canvas, and Skull picks the weary cruiser back up, dusting him off and checking his face for wear before practically erasing it with a big boot that sends him right back down! The crowd boos as Crimson Skull taunts them with a few riffs on his air guitar. “What a despicable move!” growls Pete. “Just when it looked like the Crimson Skull was going to show some sportsmanship, he nailed Wildchild between the eyes with a cheap shot!” “That’s exactly what made it great, MacDougal!” replies King. “Wildchild never saw it coming!” Referee Red Herrington admonishes Skull for his dickish behavior, and Von Dierch seizes the opportunity to sneak back into the ring and level Wildchild with a running punt kick to the face! Stryke and Melissa protest vehemently from outside the ring, but Von Dierch dives back out of the ring just as Herrington turns around, oblivious to the illegal activity. “And what do you have to say about that, King?” demands Pete. “I say that it was good tag team wrestling,” replies King gleefully. “I told you coming into this match that Skull and Von Dierch would have the advantage of having teamed together before, and here you can see it paying off!” Crimson Skull waits for Von Dierch to get back onto the apron, and then leads WC over to his corner, slamming the Bahaman’s face into Jason’s waiting boot. He tags Von Dierch and then whips Wildchild across the ring; Wildchild easily ducks Skull’s clothesline attempt as he rebounds, but the Rage drives a knee into his back as he bounces off the ropes a second time! “More outstanding teamwork by Von Dierch and the Skull!” shouts King, as Jason steps through the ropes. “Wildchild was unaware of the tag, and that enabled them to catch him off-guard… And the best part, MacDougal, was that it was perfectly legal, so you can’t even say anything about it!” Von Dierch climbs up to the top turnbuckle before flipping backwards into the ring, flattening Wildchild with a moonsault press that knocks him into the canvas face-first! Jason rolls WC over, but instead of going for a cover, he begins choking out the Bahama Bomber, in plain view of the referee! ONE! TWO! “Come on, ref!” barks Pete. “This is a blatant choke!” THREE! “What are you talking about?” asks King with mock innocence. “He’s got a four-count to break… he’s using the rules to his advantage!” FOUR! FI— Von Dierch breaks up his choke just ahead of the five-count, and then pulls WC to his feet, ignoring Herrington’s admonitions as he drags Wildchild back to his corner and tags Crimson Skull back in. Von Dierch holds WC from behind as Skull steps between the ropes and pounds Wildchild with a fierce blow to the midsection that drops him to his knees. Skull scoops Wildchild up off the canvas and lifts him overhead as he walks towards the edge of the ring, only to drop him, clotheslining him across the top rope! Skull stands over WC and pulls out an imaginary hula hoop out of nowhere; he then begins pantomiming twirling the hula hoop around his waist as the fans react vehemently: YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! “These fans aren’t happy with the Crimson Skull’s antics,” notes LDP, “and they’re letting him know about it!” “Yeah,” replies King, “but you have to admit, the guy loves his work!” Skull stomps Wildchild repeatedly in the back before pulling him back up to his feet. He rakes WC’s face across the top rope as he drags him back to his corner, before tagging Von Dierch back in. Skull holds WC still as the Rage steps in and hammers him with a punch to the midsection! “I tell you what, MacDougal,” says King, “Jason Von Dierch and the Skull are pulling out all the stops here in this match tonight; they’ve been unusually aggressive!” “Well, they definitely need to be,” replies Pete. “They can’t afford even one more loss; you can see a touch of desperation in their moves, but so far, it’s paying off! Wildchild is going to have to use some of that resourcefulness that he’s known for if he wants to make it out of this match!” Von Dierch kicks WC in the midsection to double him over and then traps him in a standing headscissors. He wraps both arms around Wildchild’s waist and lifts him up to deliver a powerbomb, but he underestimates his strength, and WC slips over his shoulders, rolling off of Jason’s back as he attempts to pull him backwards into a Sunset Flip! Von Dierch, however, is able to stop himself from going backwards, and bends over to nail WC in the face with a punch, but the Tropical Tumbler moves at the last second, causing the Rage to howl in pain as he punches the canvas! “Whoa!” exclaims Pete. “Nobody home; Wildchild a little too fast for him!” WC tumbles away from Von Dierch to escape his grasp, and rolls back to his feet on a dead run, bouncing off the ropes and evading Von Dierch once more with a running leapfrog as he dives desperately for his corner… SLAP! … And makes the tag to Stryke! YEAAAAAAAAAAH! The fans erupt as the Australian Sensation storms into the ring! Stryke hammers Von Dierch, knocking him back against the ropes with a series of right hands! Crimson Skull comes in to make the save, but Stryke gets the better of him, scooping the big man up as he comes in, and driving him onto his outstretched knee with an inverted Atomic Drop! He turns his attention back to Von Dierch, knocking him down with a standing dropkick! “Stryke finally gets in, after what seemed like an eternity of waiting on the apron, and he’s cleaning house!” exclaims LDP, as Stryke knocks down both Von Dierch and the Skull with successive clotheslines. “He’s handling both Von Dierch and the Skull by himself right now!” Stryke pulls Skull to his feet and whips him across the ring, but the Crimson Skull is able to reverse easily. Skull lowers his head to deliver a back-body drop as Stryke rebounds, but instead of flying through the air, the Australian Sensation maintains a tight grip on Skull’s neck as his body springs around, driving him face-first into the canvas with a jump-swinging DDT! “Big time DDT for Stryke!” cheers Pete, as Stryke pops to his feet with an emphatic scream. “And listen to this crowd: they’re chanting for the Low End Theory:” L-E-T! L-E-T! L-E-T! L-E-T! L-E-T! Stryke pulls Skull to his feet and traps him in the pumphandle position, but Von Dierch nails him in the back with a double-axe handle before he can lift him up. Before the Rage can do anything, however, Wildchild comes back into the ring, nailing Jason repeatedly in the face with piston-like rights that force him backwards into the neutral corner. “It’s bedlam out there!” shouts LDP. “The referee’s lost all control, as all four men are in the ring!” Stryke forces Crimson Skull back into the opposing corner, and exchanges a quick glance back at WC before the two whip their opponents towards the center of the ring, causing them to crash into each other! As Skull staggers backwards, WC and Stryke simultaneously leap into the air, knocking him out of the ring with a double dropkick! “This is absurd!” spits King, as Herrington finally gets Wildchild back onto the apron. “Those two are getting away with murder!” Stryke pulls Von Dierch to his feet and leads him back over to his corner, where he makes the tag to Wildchild. Stryke then whips Jason into the ropes, taking him down to the canvas face-first with an aggressive drop toehold, and then rolling out of the way just as WC runs by him and leaps into the air… WHAM! … Knocking Von Dierch out with the Caribbean Cutter! Wildchild rolls Jason over and applies a lateral press as Herrington drops down to count: ONE! TWO! THREE! DING! DING! DING! “Bouncin’ Back” begins to play again as the referee raises Wildchild and Stryke’s hands in victory. WC gives his partner a high-five before exiting the ring to celebrate with his girlfriend. “Big win for Stryke and the Wildchild,” says Pete. “And a tough break for Von Dierch and the Crimson Skull; they came out here and gave it their all tonight, but it wasn’t enough, and now they’re going to have to decide whether or not they want to continue teaming together, or whether to just part company, and go back to the drawing board. We’ll be back after this break, ladies and gentlemen, with more Lockdown!” Wildchild slaps hands with the fans surrounding the barricade as he makes his way back up the ramp… As we: FADE OUT

Labertino comes out to the ring. Spike Jenkins comes out to the ring. Spike Jenkins kicks and chops Labertino. Labertino fights back. Spikes hits Labertino with a brainbuster and a lariat and pins him, 1…2….3. Ding Ding Ding Spike Jenkins is number one contender to the Cruiserweight title. And now he goes back to bury himself in a hole to think about why his girlfriend broke up with him.

"You're sleeping with WHO?" The statement is delivered in an incredulous tone of voice, and is directed at the plump figure of Amy Stephens as she stands with her arms folded belligerently. However, the speaker is not her brother; it's her tag team partner. "Goddammit girl," Bruce Blank splutters, "why the hell didja go and do a stupid thing like that for? I dunno if you forgot," he continues, pulling out a handily-placed sheet of paper with the details of the Lethal Lottery Tag Tournament on, "but we're gonna be facing Landon and his 'buddy' Max King at From The Fire! In a Triple Threat Tables, Ladders and Chairs match for the Tag Titles! You did remember that, right?" "Yeh," Amy says, glaring at her hulking partner, "what 'bout it?" "Whaddya mean, 'what about it'?" Bruce demands in frustration. "We, that is you and me, are gonna be fighting, with weapons, a guy you're currently screwing. Now can you tell me, honest to God, that you are gonna be on my side when it comes to chair swingin'?" "You tellin' me you never hit someone you were fuckin'?" Amy says, tilting her head to one side. Bruce opens his mouth to retort... ...thinks about it for a second... ...and then another second. "OK, maybe you got a point." "Sorted then, innit?" Amy says, pushing past him and sitting down. "Look, Landon's alright but I ain't exactly lost me heart to him, ya get me? He's sorta cute an' he's kinda funny an' he's got this idea about how to find me brother, but y'know what? Even though he thought he was like God of the SWF or somethin' Mike never did much with the Tag Titles, y'know what I mean? So I reckon that if you an' me win 'em and hold onto 'em for a bit it'll show that stuck-up bastard a thing or two when he shows up, ya get me? So don't worry mate, if it comes to it I'll hit Landon with a chair and say sorry later," she grins. "Well... alright," Bruce says, still a little dubious but not going to push it any further. For now.

Lockdown comes back to the Xcel Energy Center (What happened to good names like Pain Dome, or Deadly Arena, or Face Raping Coliseum?) after a commercial for Frost-brand black tar heroin-pops, and Longdogger Pete and the Suicide King's faces loom into view. "Welcome back, fans, to Lockdown, live from St. Paul, Minnesota!" Pete cheerfully exclaims. "What the hell is wrong with Joe Peters? Minnesota in winter? He must really like Prince," King says. "Who doesn't, though, King? Anyway, it's time for the Lethal Lottery to kick off tonight, and what better way than with Jay Hawke and Arch Griffon taking on Jimmy the Doom and Manson?" "I can think of several better choices, but I'll keep it simple and just say your mother," King replies. Suddenly, the lights go out, giving men throughout the arena a chance to blindly grope for the handful of women, but more importantly, several druids march down the aisle, chanting a single word. 'DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM!' The lights snap back on, and is swiftly accompanied by Mastodon's "Crusher Destroyer" roaring over the speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall, and involves participants in pool D of the Lethal Lottery tag team tournament! Introducing first, at a combined weight of four hundred, eighty-five pounds, being accompanied by Lois the Unethical, JIIMMEEE THE DOOOOM AND MMMAAAANSON!" Funyon shrieks. The Raging Bull charges down the ramp, leaving Lois and Doom to trail behind. Wait, could that be a prophylactic on Jimmy's head? Why yes, yes it is. "Jimmy Hat, A-OK!" Doom shouts. "AHAHAHA!" King guffaws. "I love these damn foreigners and their ability to take American slang literally." "What I want to know is how he got one big enough to fit on his head..." Pete mutters. "Well, MacDougal, just because your wang is measured in milimeters doesn't mean everyone else's is." Doom climbs in the ring, rips off the (Thank sweet zombie Jesus) new condom and tosses it, well, about five feet away. "Crusher Destroyer" fades away, and as it does, the lights go out in a totally unoriginal and derivative manner, completely different from when they went out for Jimmy the Doom and Manson. "And their opponents, at a total weight of five hundred, seventeen pounds, the current International champion, 'the Dean of Professional Wrestling', JAAAAY HAAWWKE AND AAAARCH GRRRIFFON!" Pink Floyd's "Learning to Fly" kicks in, and Hawke walks out in front, resplendend in his robe and title belt strapped around his waist, Archie trudging behind slowly. "You know, I wonder how Griffon and Manson are going to handle this match. They were partners for a short time with a fair amount of success before Griffon left the SWF," Pete informs. "That doesn't matter. It's in the past, MacDougal, they say, let bygones be bygones. What Griffon has to worry about now is helping out Jay Hawke so he can get that International title shot down the line," King says. MITOSIS! "What the hell did you hit me for?!" King bellows. "Hey, it's a bygone. Just let it go," Pete replies, smiling. "Also, you forget that Jay Hawke promised Griffon the shot only if Archie helps take out WildChild, and I don't see the Bahama Bomber in this match, so anything could happen." Hawke climbs the steps, then turns to face the crowd, displaying his shiny title. After a moment to bask in the cheers (In his head only), Jay unstraps the belt, and along with his robe, is placed on the mat next to his and Arch's corner, well within reach for sudden shifts in advantage. Griffon rolls under the bottom rope, and is about to head over to speak with Manson, but the 'Dean' grabs him by the arm to discuss strategy. Archie ignores Hawke and steps outside the ring, poised to be tagged in at a moment's notice. Manson appears oblivious to his partner, and exits the ring, leaving Jimmy to start off against Hawke. Referee Jeff Blackwell (Sacred's got a big family) checks both men for hidden objects, and calls for the bell. DING! DING! DING! Doom immediatley heads for Hawke, and lashes out with a swift kick to the ribs. Jimmy fires off another, and looks for a third, but Jay snags his leg yanks the Doomtopian to the mat. Still holding the leg, Hawke threads it around his own limb, contorting it at an odd angle, then falls forward, dropping an elbow on Doom's face. FLAGELLUM! Jay quickly shakes Doom's leg free and slides around to cinch on a headlock. Hawke rolls onto his side, then positions Jimmy on his stomach, allowing Jay to slip behind the Doomtopian and slap on a camel clutch. Blackwell drops down to ask if Doom wishes to submit, but doesn't get a chance to hear a response as Manson boots Hawke in the back of the skull, causing the 'Dean' to release his hold. "Manson with a save, but I don't think Jimmy the Doom was in any real danger," Pete says. "Are you kidding? In the hands of a technical fucking genius like Jay Hawek, a camel clutch can cause untold devastation! Snapped tendons, cracked vertebrae, severed nerves, and other nasty things." "Sounds like Hawke should be more careful so he doesn't PARALYZE ANYONE!" Longdogger bellows. "Ah, but to be paralyzed by Jay Hawke would be an honor. Like if Picasso kicked you in the nuts," King explains. Blackwell orders Manson out of the ring while Doom and Hawke get to their feet. Jimmy snaps off a quick palm thrust, staying well out of Jay's reach. Hawke takes a step back then darts in, looking for a kick, only to get cracked with a headbutt. THYLAKOID! Hawke staggers backwards, allowing Doom to whip Jay into a neutral corner. The Doomtopian charges in after and slaps on a side headlock. Jimmy tries to leverage Hawke out, but the 'Dean' wraps on a rear waistlock, lifts Doom off his feet, and plants him with a belly to back suplex. Jay crawls over and makes a lateral press, trying desperately to put his feet on the ropes, but is too far away. ONE! T-No! "Shoulder up from Jimmy the Doom after a nice suplex from Jay Hawke." "Hawke will get him next time," King says. Jay pulls Doom off the mat and shoots him into Hawke's own corner. Arch Griffon bashes Jimmy in the temple with a right hook before Hawke tags him in. Archie grabs hold of Doom's hair, keeping Jimmy backed in his opponents' corner before smacking him with an European uppercut. Doom falls into the turnbuckles, but quickly shoves off, driving a boot into Griffon's stomach. Jimmy goes for a rising knee to the face, but Archie nails Doom with a forearm. Jimmy snaps off a shotei, but Griffon brings the Doomtopian to his knees with a double axhandle. Arch grabs Jimmy by the head and tosses him out of the corner and on the mat. After a quick elbow drop to the chest, Griffon makes a lateral press. ONE! TWO-No! "Jimmy the Doom with a kick out after getting knocked around by Arch Griffon, and Manson didn't even enter the ring," Pete comments. "Well, maybe Manson isn't too keen on attacking his former partner," King points out. Doom slowly rises to his feet and gets cracked in the jaw by Griffon. Jimmy sags to one knee, but quickly gets back on two feet and smashes a boot into Archie's skull. Griff shakes the blow off and bashes Doom with a stiff elbow, followed up by a knee to the stomach. With Jimmy hunched over, Arch rains down double axhandles, but the Doomtopian simply drives forward, wrapping Griffon up with a waistlock. "You know, this really reminds me of the Luke/Dragline fight from Cool Hand Luke. Griffon is beating the crap out of Doom, but Jimmy just keeps coming back," Pete says. "So do you mean that this match will end with Jimmy the Doom getting shot down by the police in a hail of bullets? Sweet!" King exclaims. Griffon pummels Doom in the back of the head with giant fists while, at the same time, driving knees into Jimmy's sternum, trying to get the gangly Doomtopian off of him. Slowly, Doom's grip starts to weaken, allowing Archie to hoist him off the mat and drop Jimmy with a powerbomb. Griffon starts to go for a pin, but Jimmy nails him with a kick to the knee. Another blow to the joint allows Doom to scramble up and cinch in a front facelock. Jimmy attempts to fall backwards, but Griffon plants and shoves his opponent away and into the ropes. The Doomtopian springs back and leaps into the air, drilling Griffon in his broad chest with a front kick. LYSOSOME! Archie stumbles backwards, arms outstretched to keep his balance, and he just brushes Jay Hawke's hand. The 'Dean' climbs into the ring and knocks Doom down with a dropkick as Jimmy is trying to regain his footing after the kick. Jay gets back up and immediately begins stomping on Doom's shoulder. Jimmy tries to scramble away, but Hawke grabs him by the legs and flips the Doomtopian over. Jay dives forward and drives a knee into Jimmy's shoulderblade before yanking back on the arm with an armbar. Blackwell quickly gets into Doom's face and questions if he'd like to submit. Doom says something guttural in perhaps German or maybe Yiddish while Hawke leans back to crank on Jimmy's arm. Hawke is sprawled across Jimmy's back, apparently trying to rip Doom's arm out of the socket. This is a mistake. Glaark "Hand of Doom and Jimmy is free from that armbar!" Pete exclaims. "Damn it, I keep saying that move should be illegal, I mean, it's just going to end up with someone else like JJ Johnson," King says. "Well, if you ask me, I wouldn't mind not having to hear Jay Hawke speak for a while." Hawke scrambles back to his feet, still sputtering. Jimmy the Doom kicking him in the head seems just mean on top of nearly getting a crushed trachea, but there you go. The Doomtopian grabs Jay by the wrist and launches him into his own corner. Doom follows in after Hawke and drops the 'Dean' with a dropkick to the gut. Jimmy reaches up and tags in Manson. The Raging Bull acts quickly, stomping away at Hawke's head. Manson drags Jay out of the corner, drops a knee, and makes a lateral press. ONE! TW-No! "Kick out from Jay Hawke. It's going to take a bit more to keep the International champion down," Pete points out. "Damn it MacDougal, you can't just go and make perfectly logical statements like that! How do you expect me to hate you if I agree with you?" King asks. The Stampede pulls the 'Dean' up and sends him into a neutral corner. Manson rushes in and drives an elbow into Hawke's jaw, then follows up with a knee to the stomach. Manson grabs Jay by the hair and begins walking him across the ring to the opposite corner, but stops as a wild palm finds its way into Manson's eye. Jay lashes out with two quick kicks to the stomach before stretching out the Raging Bull's right arm and dropping with a DDT. "What about that, King? Jay Hawke just hit Manson in the eye. Are you up in arms about the possibility of a wrestler being blinded?" Longdogger questions. "That's just laughable, Pete. Laugahable. Ha!" King adds for good measure. "Anyway, nice single arm DDT from Hawke. That should keep Manson down for a few seconds, as well as jarring his shoulder," Pete notes. The 'Dean' pushes Manson away and begins crawling towards his corner, and shortly after, the Stampede climbs to his feet and makes his way towards Jimmy the Doom. Manson tags in the Doomtopian seconds before Hawke swipes Archie's hand. Griffon clambers inside the ring and Doom heads straight for the Iowan. Jimmy leaps into the air and wraps himself around Arch's big body. Griffon smirks before falling forward, crushing Doom between himself and the mat. Archie isn't done, though, as he gets back up, this time grasping Jimmy with a front waistlock of his own. Griffon only moves his arms, but succeeds in launching the Doomtopian over his head. "Belly-to-belly suplex from Arch Griffon! He did that flat-footed, King! That has to take considerable power." "Are you high, MacDougal? Doom doesn't even weigh two-thirty. Hell, you could probably do it, before your arthritis kicked in, that is," King replies. However, despite Doom's low weight, he's already on his knees, and ready to smash Griffon in the stomach as he turns around. Jimmy hits Arch again in the gut, but Griffon responds with an uppercut to Doom's face. The Doomtopian keeps firing back to Archie's waist, but gets blows to the head in return. Upset over his opponent's resiliancy, Arch holds Doom by the head and bashes him in the face with a knee. ENDOPLASMIC RETICULUM! Griffon hauls Jimmy up by the wrist and pulls him in close for a short-arm clothesline. Though he's knocked down, Doom manages to tag Arch in the side of the head with a shotei. This doesn't stop the Iowan from pulling Jimmy back up for another clothesline. Archie picks Doom up a third time, but eats a kick to the ribs this time before knocking him down with another short-arm clothesline. "And Arch Griffon is going to town on Jimmy the Doom with his Grasp!" "I hope nobody interferes and we get to see how many Griffon can go for," King says. "I'm betting on twenty." Archie yanks Jimmy off the mat yet again, but instead of a clothesline, buries a knee into his stomach, and in one fluid motion, flips Doom over for a powerbomb. However, Jimmy is pretty tough, and has long arms. Combine these two items, and you get a rapid trifecta of throat thrusts that allow Doom to slip free and snag Archie to the mat with a DDT. "Multiple Hands of Doom! Hand of Dooms, whatever! What is known is that Jimmy the Doom badly needs to tag Manson into this match," Pete states. "And it wouldn't hurt Griffon to take a breather himself, though Jay Hawke still looks a little roughed up, too," King points out. The Doomtopian doesn't even consider a pin, but instead does just as Longdogger Pete says and tags in Manson. Well, not so much tag as brush his hand against the Stampede's bicep. Manson simply stares at Doom while Blackwell urges the Raging Bull into the ring. Finally, just as the ref begins a count out, Manson climbs in to face off against his former partner. Griffon and Manson look at each other while Blackwell orders the two men to continue with the match. They walk towards each other, looking for a collar and elbow tieup, but both men back off before contact is made. "Well, this is interesting. Both Manson and Arch Griffon appear to be at a loss as to what to do." "Yes, MacDougal, I think that's very obvious. However, I would like to make a suggestion to either of them. START FIGHTING!" King screams. Manson and Griffon shrug their shoulders, mouth 'Fuck it' and tag Jimmy the Doom and Jay Hawke in, respectively. As Hawke and Doom climb into the ring, Manson and Archie drop off the apron and head up the ramp together, abandoning their partners. "What the hell? Did Manson and Arch Griffon just walk out?" Pete mumbles, obviously flustered. "I think they did. I would have expected something like this out of Jimmy the Doom because he's an idiot, but not these two. I'd hate to be either man if a loss in this match costs his team a shot for the finals of the Lethal Lottery," King adds. Hawke and Doom stare dumbfounded at Manson and Griffon's retreating backs before Jeff Blackwell signals them to get the match going. Jimmy heads for the 'Dean', but gets taken to one knee after a low dropkick. Jay rolls to his feet and plants the sole of his boot into Doom's face. "Nice front kick from Jay Hawke, sort of taking a page out of Jimmy the Doom's book. Two, actually, as Doom uses that front kick, but also his Doomsday combination involves a kick to the head of a grounded opponent." "Thanks Mister Wizard, or should that be Mister Wikipedia?" King wonders, while backstage, Akira Kaibatsu screams 'Fuck you, Wikipedia!' in Japanese. Hawke strolls over to Doom and makes a lateral press. ONE! TWO! T-No! "Shoulder up from Jimmy the Doom! I'd say that Jay Hawke should turn his attention on Doom's arms for the Wing Span, but Jimmy is still pretty clear-headed. He might be able to make an escape, so knocking him unconcsious might be a better move. Of course, if Hawke keeps at Jimmy's arms, it probably wouldn't be too long before the Wing Span would be effective," Pete rambles. "Jesus, MacDougal, make up your mind!" King yells. The 'Dean' gets to his feet, and is joined moments later by Jimmy. Hawke slams a knee into Doom's gut, then a boot before dashing for the ropes. Jay bounces off and leaps, applying an armbar to Jimmy's left arm while scissoring the right one. The extra weight and Hawke's momentum straights Doom up, and nearly takes him down, but Jimmy manages to counterbalance. Jeff Blackwell looks up at Doom and asks if he'll submit, but once more, only gets back raspy foreign words, this time either Cantonese or Greek. The Doomtopian leans backwards as Hawke torques on his limbs, and finally falls back and to the left, causing Jay to release the hold. "Wow, Jay Hawke had the Rings of Saturn locked on pretty tight, but Jimmy put a stop to that by falling down, and it looks like the 'Dean' hit his back and head pretty hard," Pete says. "Are you kidding, MacDougal? That barely jarred him," King replies. "Jay Hawke just didn't want to beat Jimmy the Doom with something other than the Wing Span, and trust me, victory is near for Hawke." "And Arch Griffon. Though the partners are gone, this match began under tag team rules," Pete points out. Doom remains on the mat, making a lateral press which Blackwell quickly notices. ONE! TWO! THR-No! "Shoulder up from Jay Hawke!" Longdogger shouts. "Of course, Peter, I just said that Hawke was perfectly fine." The 'Dean' notices his position and tries to latch on a cross arm breaker, but is unable to scissor Doom's arm as Jimmy has a firm grasp of Hawke's left ankle. Doom slowly begins to sit up, hooks Jay's ankle under his armpit, and flips the 'Dean' onto his stomach. The Doomtopian stands, grapevines Jay's captured leg around his own, and drops forward, driving a knee into the back of Hawke's skull. Doom pulls Jay into a sitting positon and quickly clamps on a head vice. Hawke begins thrashing around before realizing he's in no immediate danger. "Jimmy the Doom has that head vice on pretty tight. Jay Hawke needs to try and find an escape," Pete states. "Oh, yes, MacDougal, lest he succumb to the mighty squeezing of the head, like countless thousands before him," King replies. However, the 'Dean' is slowly getting a little nervous, as Jimmy's leverage advantage means he can't get off the mat, so he does what comes most naturally, a low blow. "Given that Jay Hawke had to resort to cheating to get out of that hold might show that he was in fact in danger," Pete notes. "Please, Longdogger. Hawke just enjoys showing that he's not one dimensional." "What the hell are you talking about?" "Not only can he wrestle extremely well, but he's also got a knack for cheating. Reminds me of me, to be honest," King responds wistfully. Hawke scrambles to his feet and smacks Doom in the face with a roundhouse kick. Jimmy stumbles, and the 'Dean' whips him to the ropes. The Doomtopian bounces back and throws out an arm, but Jay ducks under and snags it in a chickenwing hold. Hawke quickly snakes his free hand around Doom's face and links his hands together. "Crossface chickenwing! If Jay Hawke can bring Jimmy the Doom to the ground, then Hawke will no doubt be able to finish up the Wing Span, and I'm not sure if Doom could manage to find a way out." "Of course not, Pete. Jimmy the Doom is a technical idiot, well, he's an idiot in all facets of life, but particularly when it comes to technical wrestling. There's no way he could escape the Wing Span once Jay Hawke gets it secured," King says. Doom starts tipping over backwards, but Hawke, wary after his earlier spill, plants his feet and tries to sweep Jimmy's legs. Doom trips, but regains his footing by leaning forward, which takes Jay off the mat. The added weight begins to take its toll, and the Doomtopian drops to one knee. Though not exactly how he applies the hold, Jimmy's position is enough for the 'Dean' to wrap his legs around Doom's free arm and snap it straight. "Wing Span! Jay Hawke has the Wing Span locked on, and I don't think Jimmy the Doom can survive it for very long!" Pete shouts. "I told you, MacDougal, I fucking told you." Jeff Blackwell slides in front of Doom, asking if he'd like to submit, only to get back something in mumbled Esperanto, he's sure of it. Jay continues to crank back on Jimmy's arms, causing the kneeling Doom to arch his back from the torque. Despite the wrenching pain, Doom begins to inch forward on his knees towards the ropes, while Hawke simply pulls back harder, not wanting to give up his arm scissors to stop Jimmy. "He's going to make it," Pete says. "Bullshit, Pete, he'll tap first," King replies. Doom is a foot from the ropes when Hawke orders Blackwell to see if he'll submit. Jimmy replies with something in Latin and continues heading for the ropes. He finally gets there, but with both arms trapped, Jimmy simply brushes against them, but it's enough for Blackwell, who demands Hawke release the hold, which the 'Dean' does after nearly reaching the full five count. "I fucking told you, King," Pete mimicks. Jay rolls away from Doom and heads to where his team's corner was before being abandoned by Griffon. Hawke slides his International title out from under the ring, placing it in front of the turnbuckles. "I wonder what Hawke is planning to do with his belt," Pete says. "Probably just admiring it," King offers. The 'Dean' measures up the distance and waits for Doom to rise. After a few moments, Jimmy climbs up and notices Jay apparently having a heated discussion with a fan. Believing it to be a grand opportunity, Doom charges Hawke, who seconds before impact, falls to the mat, snaring Jimmy with a drop toe hold, sending the Doomtopian's face direclty into Jay's International title. ANAPHASE! Jeff Blackwell picks up on the sound of face hitting metal and begins screeching at Hawke. Jay plays up his innocence, claiming the title must have been moved from its resting place during the match. "Come on, you can't disqualify him!" King shouts. "And why the hell not? Jay Hawke cheated!" "I'm afraid not, MacDougal. That was an accidental coincidence. It just so happened that Hawke's title was underneath Jimmy's face at the end of that drop toe hold," King explains. "It was there because Hawke put it there and planned it out!" Pete yells. However, the ref doesn't exactly have proof, so he's only left to allow the match to continue, but first hands the belt off to Funyon until the match is over. Considering that Jay Hawke is in the match, it's a bad idea to turn your back on him if you happen to be a referee. Jeff Blackwell does just that, though, and the 'Dean' quickly applies a chokehold. With the choke still on, Jay drags Doom away from the turnbuckles, then flips him over. Hawke quickly ascends to the top rope, glances over his shoulder to make sure that the Doomtopian isn't moving too much, and then leaps. PHOSPHOLIPIDS! "HAWKE SWOOP!" Pete screams. "It's over, ring the bell," King says. "Nobody survives the Hawke Swoop." "Especially if you get brained with a title belt and then Hawke hits the knee to your face," Pete comments. Jay slides over to better hook Doom's leg and Blackwell drops to count the pin. ONE! TWO! THREE! NO! "He kicked out! Jimmy the Doom just kicked out of the Hawke Swoop!" "That son of a bitch is on something, I'm telling you!" King shouts. Jay Hawke slowly climbs to his feet, at his wit's end as how to put away Jimmy the Doom. The 'Dean' picks his Doomtopian opponent off the mat and launches him into the ropes. Jimmy seems to be regaining his bearings as he bounces back, and jumps into the air, extending a foot for Hawke's face. GLYCOLYSIS! "What a flying snap kick from Jimmy the Doom! He nearly took Jay Hawke's head off with that!" Pete shouts. "He's faking it. Hawke'll be up in a flash and have the Wing Span locked on soon enough," King fires back. Doom doubles back to the downed 'Dean' and drags the International champion off the mat. Jimmy slaps on an inverted facelock, hooks Jay's inside leg, lifts, then falls. The Doomtopian shifts his weight and applies a lateral press. ONE! TWO! THREE! DING! DING! DING! "The Doom Driver did it! Jimmy the Doom beat Jay Hawke in technically a tag match, but neither men had their partners, and this might be the deciding match for pool D," Pete says. "Damn it, if Arch Griffon were here, he could have made the save!" King fumes. "Well, if he were here, then it stands that Manson would be as well, and he might have interrupted the save attempt," Pete points out. "The winner of this match by pinfall, the team of MMMANSON AND JIIIMMMEEE THE DOOOOM!" Funyon shouts, feeling kind of dumb with Manson being absent. Doom heads back up the ramp, Lois the Unethical in tow while Lockdown fades to Prince having sex with several women at the same time (It's apparently some kind of commercial for the tourist bureau).

Earlier today: Wildchild and Melissa Fasaki walk into the Xcel Energy Center and head towards Joseph Peters’ office, looking at the bulletin board outside the door in order to find out what order their match will be placed on the show. “Looks like we have some time before we have t’be ready,” says Wildchild. “What d’you s’pose we ought t’do?” In response, Melissa grins shyly and then stands up on her toes as she whispers in Wildchild’s ear. The Bahama Bomber listens intently, breaking into an ear-to-ear smile as he apparently likes what he hears. “Sounds like a plan t’me,” he says. “Shall we go?” WC offers Melissa his arm, and the two continue on towards their private dressing room… but, as they turn the corner, they run into Jay Hawke. The International Champion deliberately puts himself in Wildchild’s way, blocking the Bahaman’s attempts to get by. “So,” begins Jay, “I understand that you’re going to have your first Lethal Lottery match tonight… I want to wish you good luck.” This earns a derisive snort from Wildchild. “I know how t’work a tag match; I don’ need luck!” “In that case,” replies Jay, “I’ll be looking forward to competing against you when our teams meet up.” “When dat happens,” says Wildchild, “you can count on me beatin’ you, jus’ like I’ve beaten you in de past… jus’ like I’m gon’ t’take dat belt away from you!” “Of course you are, kid,” chuckles Hawke. “I wish I had a nickel for every time I’d heard that…” “Y’know,” interrupts Wildchild, “it’s real easy t’hold on t’your title when ya’ go an’ get yourself disqualified every time yer getting yer BUTT whipped…” “Hey,” replies Jay calmly, “they don’t call me the Dean for nothing; I know what it takes to hold onto this… You losers have to beat me if you want this belt; I don’t HAVE to beat you.” WC shakes his head in disgust. “Y’know, one of dese days, yer not going t’be able t’run from me anymore. Sooner or later, yer gonna have t’face me man t’man, with no way t’escape… An’ den, yer gonna do what you’ve done every other time you’ve been in de ring wit’ me.” “Oh?” asks Jay, a cocky eyebrow raised. “And what, pray tell, is that?” “Lose,” replies Wildchild. And, with that, he and Melissa brush their way past, leaving Jay fuming in the hallway… As we: FADE OUT

The venue? The Xcel Energy Center. The show? SWF Lockdown? The song? Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Gimme Back My Bullets”, the southern rock pulsing through the arena as it heralds the entrance of all-around loser, Matt Myers. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to Lockdown!” beams Pete as the Smarktron does absolutely nothing. Poor Myers. So unloved, he doesn’t even get an entrance video. “And what an opener we have for you.” “Yes. This truly is a glorious opener,” says King, rolling his eyes. “Allan-“ “Rush,” corrects Pete. “Rush Hadrian vs. Matt Myers. Good stuff, really. I mean, Hadrian is a rookie, and Myers CAN’T POSSIBLY BE WEARING THAT HERE!” The object of King’s outburst becomes apparent as the curtain is split…by a yellow helmet, followed by Matt Myers, completely clad in Packers helmet, a Brett Favre jersey, and green-and-yellow wrestling tights as he strides down the ramp, surrounded by thousands of jeering Minnesotans – although some are laughing, realizing the joke in his entering to a song about getting bullets back. “The following contest is scheduled for one fall!” booms Funyon, happy to get the show underway. “Introducing first, from Gulfport, Mississippi…MATT! “BRETT FAVRE!” MYYYYYYEEERRRRSSS!!!” “What?!” asks King as the ill-fated jobber hobbles down the ramp, more than a little uncomfortable with the prospect of wrestling a match dressed in such attire in such a place. “I thought he was the Cosplay Master?” “Well, technically, Brett Favre IS a video game character,” admits Pete. “Madden, NFL 2k, Gameday, Quarterback Club, and so on.” “I HATED Quarterback Club!” shouts King, banging his fist on the announce table for emphasis. “Everyone did, King,” reassures the Longdogger, “everyone did.” Myers rolls into the ring, not quite sure how he’s going to be able to see his opponent coming with his helmet on – like it matters – when cheesy synthesizer music comes over the PA! “YOU’VE GOT THE TOUCH!!” The Transformers fans in the crowd mark out as Stan Bush’s “The Touch” blasts out of the SWF speakers, the southern rock of Skynyrd blending very poorly into the 80s electronic tune. “YOU’VE GOT THE POWERRRR!!!” And so the drum lead-in begins, the beats tumbling ever faster as it reaches the intro’s climax… …and then the opening chords of Nile’s “Howling of the Jinn” come wailing out of the speakers, and any hope of walking out of the Xcel Center with ears intact immediately goes flying out the window, the blasting drums, shredding guitars, and deep growling kicking into high gear as Rush Hadrian makes his way through the curtain. “And his opponent,” begins Funyon over the cacophony shrieking throughout the arena, “from Portland, Oregon…RUSH! HAADRRIIAANN!!” Rush takes a few steps down the ramp, glancing around and taking in the scene of his singles debut…then says ‘fuck it’ and sprints down the ramp at full speed, sliding into the ring… …through the legs of a Pearl-Harboring Myers… …and up to his feet, where he turns on the spot and leaps, driving his foot into the Favre-impersonator’s helmeted head with an enzuigiri! *PCRUNCK!* DING DING DING! Guest ref David Blazenwing rings the bell, the tones ringing out the same time as the sound of boot on Teflon as Myers staggers, looking a little worse for wear only half of a second into the match. This ought to be short. “BOOM!” screams an uninvited guest at the announce table. “He’ll be feeling THAT Monday morning!” “What the hell?!” asks King, something that Pete silently concurs with as he stares at the portly individual that has mysteriously appeared, complete with chair and headset, right next to the Gambling Man. “John Madden, what are you doing here?!” “You think I’d miss a game of FOOTBALL?” asks the former Raiders coach exuberantly. “Ah, but this isn’t a game of football,” points out the Longdogger. “This is a wrestling match featuring a guy in a Brett Favre jersey.” “Ah, but your mother,” replies the winningest – in terms of percentage –football coach of all time, King mouthing “He can stay” to security as Myers, in the ring, finally regains his footing and turns to throw a punch…but Hadrian covers his face with both arms. Myers thinks a moment, his eyes zipping around nervously, then throws the punch anyway…and Rush intercepts it! “Brett needs to realize that he can’t throw into double coverage anymore,” notes King, as Hadrian throws the doppelganger into the ropes…before lighting up his chest on the rebound with a knife-edge chop! *SMACK!* “WHOOO!” “King…” begins Pete, “…that’s not actually Brett Favre. That’s Matt Myers in a helmet.” “Not now, Pete. The big kids are talking football,” replies King. “I’m ten years older than you!” says Pete. “Ah, but your mother,” responds Madden. “STOP THAT!!” The ersatz Mississippian staggers from the force of the chop, grabbing at his chest and closing his eyes in an attempt to squeeze out the stinging. With the pain subsided, and the relief of no follow-up blow, he opens his eyes…and finds Rush crouching on the outside, staring intently at the protective mats. “Um, what’s he doing?” asks Pete. “Well, it looks like he’s running an out,” contributes Madden. “If he can beat the linebacker to the corner, he should be wide open for at least a five-yard gain, maybe more if he can break the tackle. I don’t like his chances, though; Kendrell Bell really wraps guys up in the open field.” “Hadrian doesn’t need to break tackles, though – he’s got the speed to sprint past Bell outright,” notes King, Madden nodding his head in newfound agreement. “Guys! He’s not running an out, Myers is not Kendrell Bell, and we’re not calling a football game!” shouts Pete. “Geez, settle down, Pat,” says Madden, rolling his eyes. “That’s Pete,” corrects the Longdogger with the gritting of his teeth very noticeable indeed. “John has a point, Pat,” says King, interjecting his opinion into the conversation, “you do seem a little high-strung.” “It’s Pete. And is Madden really that persuasive?” asks the Longdogger. “He gets people to buy Tinactin, doesn’t he? If he can sell that, what can’t he sell?” inquires the Gambling Man in response. “Great, there goes another sponsor,” sighs Pete. Meanwhile, Myers realizes that he has a very good chance at turning the match in his favor permanently, with Hadrian distracted by what is apparently a beetle that has burrowed its way out of the harsh Minnesota winter and into the arena. And so the Favrepleganger sprints to the opposite ropes, rebounding very swiftly and tearing back across the canvas before casting himself into the air, through the ropes…and head-first into the mats on the outside, Hadrian turning his head slightly at the disturbance, but otherwise ignoring Myers. “I don’t think that’s how the play was drawn up, Pat!” shouts Madden. “PETE!” insists the Miami Menace. “Why don’t you show us where it went wrong, John?” asks King, getting a faraway look in his eyes as he falls further and further under the commentator’s spell. “Sure thing, Al,” accepts Madden, reaching into his pocket and pulling out THE TELESTRATOR~! and a light pen as the replay comes up on screen. “Al?!” screeches Pete. -----SWF INSTANT REPLAY – FOR WHEN WATCHING A GUY BREAK HIS NECK ONCE JUST ISN’T ENOUGH----- “See, now what went wrong here,” begins Madden, frowning with concentration as the clip of Myers diving through the ropes and onto his skull plays by, the commentator drawing a bevy of Xs and Os that have absolutely nothing to do with what’s happening on the screen, and in fact look more like a post-corner out of the Full House formation, “is that Driver runs a curl, when in fact, he’s supposed to be running a drag. Favre obviously isn’t ready for Driver’s audible, and he doesn’t do so much as look in Javon Walker’s direction, where he’s beaten Dre’ Bly deep here” – Madden draws a bunny rabbit – “and is almost a guaranteed 6. Instead, Favre hurls himself headlong in an attempt to scramble for the first, and Boss Bailey makes him pay by hitting him straight on.” -----SWF INSTANT REPLAY – FOR WHEN WATCHING A GUY BREAK HIS NECK ONCE JUST ISN’T ENOUGH----- “Mr. Madden, this is getting absurd,” groans Pete. “Calling me ‘Pat’ was bad enough, but Boss Bailey tackle somebody? That’s going over the line.” “He’s right, John,” says King, looking almost disappointed in the heavyset man next to him. “I think you should apologize for your farfetched comment.” “Alright, I’m sorry, Pat,” says Madden. “PETE!” Meanwhile, Myers kips up on the outside, because by Gumby, he’s got to keep that starting streak alive! And he’s wearing a helmet! That helps too! With a newfound energy, or maybe he’s just running on fumes after his concussion… [“He should’ve worn one of those new helmets with the holes in the top,” says Madden. “Those don’t actually prevent concussions, John,” informs the Gambling Man.] …he buries a kick into the stomach of Hadrian, then grabs Hadrian in a facelock before lifting up…and dropping him back-first onto the mats with a suplex! “96!” shouts the audience. “Could he be?” asks Pete, and then his question is confirmed as Myers rolls through before hitting another suplex! “97!” shouts the audience again. “It is! The NFL MVP rolling suplexes!” says the Longdogger excitedly. Myers lifts Hadrian up again…and Barry Sanders runs out of the crowd and helps him deliver the third suplex! “98!” shouts the audience a third time as Hadrian holds his back in pain. Sanders sprints off through the audience, avoiding beer bottles and…well, more beer bottles as Myers rolls Hadrian into the ring. “Where the hell is Barry Sanders going?” asks Pete. “That’s what the Lions said!” quips Madden. Myers slides into the ring, more than ready to finish off the young rookie after his devastating offense of three suplexes…and Hadrian kips up before dropping him with a Diamond Cutter! *BANG!* “That was out of nowhere!” shouts Pete as Madden, seeing that his work here is done, disappears as mysteriously as he appeared, “this one is over!” Indeed it is, as Hadrian covers Myers, nonchalantly hooking a leg as the referee – yes, there was a referee – drops to count. ONE! TWO! THREE! DING DING DING! “YOU’VE GOT THE TOUCH!” As the Viking Nation explodes at seeing Favre vanquished, Hadrian rolls out of the ring, a faraway look in his eyes – not from trauma so much as that’s his normal look. “What? It’s over already?” asks King, blinking heavily. “They do entrances, and then it’s over?” “Wow,” says Pete, “you really were brainwashed.” “I guess I was, Pat.” “SHIT!” FADE OUT

The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents... SWF LOCKDOWN! Live, WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 22nd from the SOLD OUT XCEL ENERGY CENTER in ST. PAUL, MINNESOTA! (7pm PST, 10pm EST; check local listings) The SWF comes to Minnesota, doncha' know! After an entertaining but largely subdued Storm, we prepare to heat things up for Lockdown! Well, maybe. The Lethal Lottery remains the dominant factor in SWF booking, and three more matches are scheduled to happen! Outside of that, fresh blood fills up the singles matches, as an exciting main event and Cruiserweight title match look to add a bit of flash and panache to the show! Outside of that, with El Luchadore Magnifico and Wes Davenport given the show off, is this the show where we finally see a confrontation between the world champ and the number one contender? And what of the SHOCKING development that has put former SWF champion and all around terror Janus at the helm of SWF security? OPENING PROMO: Janus MAIN EVENT CAGE MATCH Landon Maddix vs Michael Cross ->Raynor said I should book Landon Maddix. So, goddamn it, here's Landon Maddix! After his tag team partner Max King faced, and lost, to the world champion on Storm, King now gets his opportunity to main event, hopefully with better results. He faces off against youngster Michael Cross, who gets his first opportunity to bask in the spotlight at the top an SWF program. And what better to accentuate the light than 15 feet high walls of gleaming steel? Rules: Standard escape-match cage rules. The magic door is not in operation, 'cause that's stupid. Cage design is up to you (either WWF steel bars or WCW chain-link mesh) Word Limit: 5500 Send To: realitycheck LETHAL LOTTERY (Pool C) TAG TEAM MATCH Bruce Blank & Amy Stephens (1-0) vs Kevin Coyote & Insane Luchador (0-0) ->Sweet sassy molassey, hide the women and children. And the liquor. After a... unique... display which served only to incite Andrew Rickmen, the Ultraviolent champion is going to have to face the Insane Luchador for REALZ this time, or at the very least have his partner do some of the dirty work. And what of Kevin Coyote and LDP? With all the stuff that's happened between these four in the last couple of shows, INTRIGUE abounds for this one. Rules: Standard tag team match. Remember the tag ropes! Word Limit: 4500 Send To: Evolution CRUISERWEIGHT TITLE BOUT SINGLES MATCH Zyon© vs "The Divine Wind" Akira Kaibatsu ->The Zyon and Spike Jenkins relationship seems to be teetering closer to the brink of destruction with each show that goes by. Spike seems rather adament that despite this, he and Zyon (but mostly him) will win the Lethal Lottery, and then take Zyon's CW belt. While that no doubt weighs heavy on the mind of the Unique Youth, Spike's plans may hit a small hitch if Akira Kaibatsu takes the title off of Zyon first... Rules: Cruiserweight rules, baybee. Word Limit: 4500 Send To: Justice LETHAL LOTTERY BOUT (Pool A) TAG TEAM MATCH The Crimson Skull & Jason von Dierch (0-2) vs Stryke & Wildchild(0-0) ->Despite the Crimson Skull's pleasure (and rather misplaced faith in his assistant) in getting something that's almost like title contendership sorta, he and partner Jason von Dierch have floundered so far in the Lethal Lottery. Stryke and Wildchild, two of the other teams late out of the gate in the tourney, finally get things started against them here, in what will be Skull and von Dierch's last match of the tourney. Wildchild is one of the most accomplished tag wrestlers of all time, but with a new partner and his mind elsewhere on Jay Hawke, is it possible for Skull to get a win and try to keep himself alive in the tournament? Rules: Standard tag match. Remember the tag ropes! Word Limit: 4500 Send To: janusd CRUISERWEIGHT TITLE CONTENDERSHIP SINGLES MATCH "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins vs Laberinto ->Life is good if you're Hollywood. 2-0 with your partner in the Lethal Lottery and finally given another opportunity to win a shot at the SWF Cruiserweight belt. The only mitigating factor in this, besides the fact he could actually, y'know, lose to Laberinto, is that this would come at the expensive of his tag team partner, and possibly the Lethal Lottery as well. But hey, no harm, no foul if you're friends, right? Rules: Cruiserweight rules. Word Limit: 4500 Send To: chirs3 LETHAL LOTTERY BOUT (Pool D) TAG TEAM MATCH Archie Griffon & Jay Hawke (1-0) vs Jimmy the Doom & Manson (1-0) ->Griff and Hawke, despite being perhaps the most unlikely pairing in this entier tournament, worked together surprisingly well on Storm to get their first victory of the Lethal Lottery. Hawke made an interesting proposition to Archie: Put aside our difference and work towards getting WC out of the way, and then let Griff have what he came back for. The wacky tag partners who hate each other continue their march with a match against Manson and Jimmy the Doom, fresh off a loss against some fresh fish. Rules: Standard tag match. Remember the tag ropes! Word Limit: 4500 Send To: The Superstar OPENING BOUT SINGLES MATCH Allan Hadrian vs Matt "The Cosplay Master" Myers ->Allan Hadrian, he's a new guy! Actually, I believe he's JJ, but... I... didn't read the show where he turned up. Uh. So here's a match against Matt Myers for all of us to get acquainted with! Rules: Standard singles match. For information on Matt's gimmick, refer to one of the shows before the Clusterfuck. Word Limit: 4000 Send To: Secret Agent (Send all promos/marked matches to Justice)

Weren't they, like, killed at the onset of Infinite Crisis? Or am I making that up?

i thk im blind.

You know, CE has really fallen low when multiple people are honestly arguing and getting angry about the government not releasing stuff about 'UFOs'. Kotz, what fucking proof are you talking about? There are tons of rumors, urban legends, and all sorts of stuff like that, but Christ, it isn't like there is any real, concrete evidence out there that we can refer to and say "Look, the government is definitely lying to us!" I mean, consider this: If the government really doesn't have anything on aliens, and has come out about it more than once, what makes them coming out now any different? And if they really do have that sort of stuff, what difference does it make in our lives right now? You can't make some sort of assertion like this when there isn't anything outside of gross speculation on the subject. Shit, I can't believe you have me fucking arguing about aliens. Hell, why don't we get started on the coalition of gnomes living in the depths of the Alps who secretly control the diamond trade while we're at it?

The worst part is that the peace-keeping force everyone agrees about is always the last one that gets sent. Fucking stupid, ain't it?

So, by saying they've ignored it before, he's basically admitting we're doing it and condoning it at the same time? BRILLIANT! But I agree with the headline. Fucking do something with them already.

Because my house is receiving new pledges/probationary members/potential new members tomorrow, I'll be doing car bombs starting at 5 AM and not stopping for... the rest of the day or something. So my match-writers can have until around midnight as an extension if needed.

Alright, I finally have a small amount of time to get to this, though a lot has already been said. First off, I must put down the things that irritate me in matches (ESPECIALLY Tag Matches): 1) Being too dominant: There's a point where you can dominate and still make it believable and good, and there's a point where you start hammering people and making them look bad. I personally like even battles where a character might swing in and be a wrecking machine, but then the tag format begins to wear him out and take him down. 2) One-sided Commentary: I think this is something that came from reading Ash Ketchum matches. I hate hate hate commentary that focuses almost exclusively on one team or wrestler. Not to say that King won't be shilling one over the other all the time, but when only one wrestler or team is given an extreme focus in the commentary, it feels like they are the only ones who can win and the only ones who matter. 3) Failing to give your opponents personality: Personality is something that needs to be in every match. If someone didn't write Va'aiga saying "BOOYAH!" or popping fans or just being obnoxiously monster face, it really wouldn't be Va'aiga, would it? When you sort of just write the other guys as 'being there', you lose a dimension to the match. Otherwise, why not just feud with a jobber all the time? 4) Concise intros: I dunno why, but I'm more happy when someone simply hashes out what's been going on through a few lines of King and LDP dialogue than simply going through a long diatribe. It feels a bit more efficient, and it doesn't distract me from the match. I saw a lot of those things in this match. The intro was way, WAY too long, and the match was way, way too short for what I was expecting. 1,800 words before the bell, without any sort of interference or something, is just way too much. On the match, it was okay. I mean, you had a storyline down (Fury and Sarah being reluctant tag partners, and Fury wanting to do it on his own), but you forgot about the whole tension thing with Spike and Zyon. Like Bruce said, they were sort of just 'bodies', which is a problem I see with a lot of people nowadays. You have to give people unique personalities (Even if they really aren't THAT unique), otherwise the action comes off as less exciting. You guys seemed to dominate WAY too much. Sometimes its good (i.e. You're an established monster personality like Janus, Frost, or even Danny Williams), but I just don't get that feeling with you two. And when you put into play that Zyon and Spike, while being a bit tense are a fairly well established tag team, and it just puzzled me a bit. Your action just didn't grab me too much. Bruce is right, there really wasn't a 'instant replay' spot' in the match. Overall, Zyon's match, while a bit less polished, seemed a bit more fast and fun, which was one reason I picked it over yours. It's not that your match was "bad"... it was okay. I'm not sure either match, due to their flaws, was a real standout. I simply chose the one that interested me more, despite all the flaws.

Sarah, I understand. The biggest problem with both matches, as it seemed to me, was that the opponents were fairly... uh... Well, generic. I mean, neither match really put character into the others. Yours had a lot of interaction between Fury and Sarah, and I understood that... but there was really not much with Zyon and Spike. On the other hand, Zyon and Spike had stuff from each other... but they didn't do anything with you two. I sort of took that as a cancelling of each other. Maybe it's just that I've sort of been following Zyon and Spike, which made it a little easier for me to see what they were doing with each other. Frankly, the Main Event wasn't as good as it could have been. I feel bad in saying it, but I was sort of disappointed in both sides with their matches. Zyon's was pretty rushed and while it had better action (at least, in my opinion, but I'll get to it later), it ignored your storyline. Your match was okay, but the action portion was a bit short (You had 1,800 words for the opening lead in, and you still came in a bit under the winning match), and I felt that Zyon's match, while much less polished, felt more like a match than 'a promo... and hey, there's a match!'. Post your match, and I'll explain a bit more. Or I could post your match. But I personally didn't like making this decision at all, because, after reading both matches, it felt like at least one side would come out of it hurt.

The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents... SWF SMARKDOWN! Live, TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 14TH, from the SOLD OUT COW PALACE in SAN FRANSICO, CALIFORNIA! (7 pm PST, 10pm EST; check local listings) Lethal WHAT?! Yes, the SWF is embroiled in another wacky fed-wide tournament, and this time its random partners for everyone, moving people towards TLC 3 at From the Fire! Will this daring move by Joseph Peters pay off, or will it be what seals his fate as a SWF Commissioner? Well, there’s only one way to find out… TUNE IN! THE ROUND ROBIN POOLS: Pool A: Stryke & Wildchild Michael Cross & Akira Kaibatsu The Crimson Skull & Jason von Dierch Pool B: Christian Fury & ??? Matt Myers & Ghost Machine Spike Jenkins & Zyon Pool C: Insane Luchador & Kevin Coyote Amy Stephens & Bruce Blank Ced Ordonez & Laberinto Pool D: Todd Cortez & JJ Johnson/ELM Archie Griffon & Jay Hawke Jimmy the Doom & Manson OPENING PROMO: Not yet called. MAIN EVENT LETHAL LOTTERY TOURNAMENT POOL B Spike Jenkins and Zyon vs. Christian Fury and ??? -> Talk about a big match! It’s one of the more established teams in the SWF vs. a veteran and a mystery partner. Who is it, and what can they bring to this team? Description: Standard Tag Match Word Count: 5500 Send to: Justice NON-TITLE SINGLES MATCH Jay Hawke vs. Todd Cortez -> Todd Cortez has been in a pretty miserable slump as of late. Well, hopefully he can rise to the occasion against Jay Hawke, who has been unstoppable with the International Title. Can Cortez pull out a win, or will Hawke continue his win streak? Word Count: 5000 Send to: The Superstar LETHAL LOTTERY TOURNAMENT POOL C Ced Ordonez & Labertino vs. Amy Stephens and Bruce Blank -> Odd teams for odd people! The masked Labertino, paired with wrestler/referee Ced Ordonez, faces off against newcomer Amy Stephens and rising star Bruce Blank. Will Labertino and Ordonez come out on top, or will it be beauty and the beast? Description: Standard Tag Match Word Count: 5000 Send to: chirs3 LETHAL LOTTERY TOURNAMENT POOL B Michael Cross and Akira Kaibatsu vs. The Crimson Skull and Jason von Dierch -> The Asian Underground has arrived in the SWF! By a stroke of luck, these two tag partners managed to draw each other in the Lethal Lottery, and are facing off against the new team of Crimson Skull and Jason von Dierch. Will the Crimson Rage be able to dig up the Asian Underground? Description: Standard Tag Match Word Count: 5000 Send to: Janusd LETHAL LOTTERY TOURNAMENT CROSS-POOL MATCH -> Each team is required to face off against one team not in its pool. For Ghost Machine and Matt Myers, the insanely… uh, dangerous team of Manson and Jimmy the Doom is their non-pool team. Who will be able to bring a win back to their pool? Description: Standard Tag Match Word Count: 4500 Sent to: realitycheck SINGLES MATCH Arch Griffon vs. Wildchild -> A hot opener for a hot show! Wildchild has been gunning for the International Title since before Clusterfuck. While he can’t get his hands on Jay Hawke just yet, who better than his newest partner, Arch Griffon? Description: Standard Match Word Count: 4000 Sent to: Evolution (Send promos, marked matches and booking requests to chirs3) ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Appologies all around. I've been working for the better part of the day, and I just haven't been able to put together a card 'til now. For those of you with concerns, I'll address them through PMs. I'm getting through the last of them. I'm really sorry for the late card. Notice I gave you guys until Tuesday.

7 PM PST, just like it says.

Alright. Right now, I'm trying to work the Lottery out with just about everyone, because I have received a few complaints and concerns from people who either didn't tell us anything, or simply didn't have a chance to promo. I'm going to hold back and try to make it so this thing can work out well for everyone. If you have any concerns or problems, PM me NOW. I'd like to get a card started as soon as I physically can.

At the Pentagon? Nope. Don't see it. That 3rd pic down shows pretty much nothing recognizable. If thats the pic I'm supposed to notice. This argument was already taken by Doyo long ago, around the time he was laughed off the CE Boards.

Wow. Big show, with a lot of good stuff and a bad point or two (The double no-show was definitely surprising). But all in all, it's a show that you'll need to read all of, or you'll be missing something important. Oh, and card will be up tomorrow morning. I have to go to bed, but I'll be up early tomorrow.

EARLIER TODAY... The small training centre is dank and musty. A small row of flourescent lights hang over a beaten up wrestling ring, with only a few stray rays of light shining through the grime caked windows. A punching bag hangs from the ceiling, and a number of weight sets sit along one side of the ring. Lastly, three men stand impatiently in the darkest corner of room, while the sillhouette of a fourth can barely be made out against one of the walls. "Gentlemen," the shadowed man begins, "I'm pleased you were able to make it." "Yeah, boss," responds one of the men, Aidan Redmond. "Let's cut right to the chase. You said you had something for us?" "I did, yes," the shadowed man responds. His voice is smooth and authoritive, displaying both intelligence and certain cultured nature. "I have a proposition for you. As I understand it, all three of you have been looking to acquire new SWF contracts after your tryout ones were terminated some time ago, yes?" "Yeah, so what's it to ya'?" responds a different one of the men, Aaron Carpenter. "Shall we say that... I am in a position to reward you with such contracts, if you were able to render a few services for me?" The three men look at each other, and then turn to the shadowed man skeptically. "You expect us to believe that you work for the SWF?" the third one, Bryan Levy, derisively questions. "No SWF talent agent would ever come out here without any trainers, with just one cryptic phonecall." The shadowed man laughs slightly. "My being here is not, shall we say, on the record. But, if it's any help..." he reaches into the inside of his jacket, and produces a small piece of paper. He passes it to Redmond, who's expression changes to one of surprise. "He ain't kidding!" Redmond exclaims. "This is a real contract!" Remond passes it to Carpenter who, in turn, passes it to Levy. The shadowed man takes the contract back before speaking again. "Now, of course, I can't have you signing it here. However, if you do what I need you to, I can assure you a meeting with Joe Peters, and his signature on three different contracts." "Uh-huh," says Levy. "And what kind of favour are we talking about, here?" "Do the three of you still watch SWF programming?" the man inquires. "If you do, I'm sure you've noticed a certain someone by the name of Kevin Coyote." "The punk who turned out to be Pete's kid? Yeah, I seen him," Carpenter responds. "Excellent. Then, I'm sure you don't need me to explain to you what I would like you to do to him..." the shadowed man intones. "You can't be serious," Levy growls. "I know what you mean, and that shit ain't worth any SWF contract! Assaulting some SWF wrestler could get our asses thrown in jail." "Please, Mr. Levy, I can guarantee your security," the man assures. "But, to cover any damages or accidents that might happen, I would like you to take these." The man reaches into his jacket again, and removes three fat looking envelopes. One by one he hands them out to each of the former SWF wrestlers, careful to make sure they don't see his face as he does it. Hesitantly, Carpenter looks into one of the envelops... and does a double take. "Holy s**t!" he hollers. "These are new contracts! And... Jesus, there must be like 2500 bucks in here!" "Consider it a signing bonus," chimes the shadowed man. "Alright... alright," Carpenter repeats. "We'll do your job for you." "Good. And boys, whatever you do," adds the shadowed man, slyly. "Just don't kill Coyote." All three of the men look at each other, and then back at the shadowed man, before laughing. Aidan Redmond and Aaron Carpenter pick up their bags and walk out of the training center, as Levy turns to follow them... and stops, looking back at the shadowed man. "Hey," he starts. "You aren't William Hearford, are you? Or do you work for him, or what?" There is a long pause from the man in the corner. His face cannot be seen, but one can almost hear him grin. "Let's just say that I've got a stake in Kevin Coyote running his mouth."