Justice

Wow, another person who lacks the ability to disgunish someone getting killed in committee (Which means he wouldn't pass a floor vote) and someone who DID pass committee and WOULD pass a floor vote. But that seems to be the tend nowadays, so I'll let it go. I think the memo was to show that these people aren't the radicals that they were branded and in fact the Dems are just trying to stop future Supreme Court nominees, which is what most of us were afraid of. Oh, and Filibusters don't have any role in stopping something that is entitled to a floor vote like judicial nominees. The fact that you don't distinguish between this and regular floor bills amazes me.

Question: What the fuck is with the debate on rap being music on not? It's fucking music; a rhythm has to be created instruments or by mouth and therefore would qualify. Melody isn't a necessity for music.

I'll agree that inner-city school systems as a whole need a massive revamping. But again, you have to have parental involvement to really make a child succeed. From my mother's extensive experience as a teacher in Detroit she thinks that a lot of blacks either have kids too early to really put the effort into caring for them because they just aren't ready for it, others just don't want their kids. This doesn't apply to all inner-city parents, but a large majority that she meets are like this and it isn't helping out anyone. We need those black leaders like Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson to stop worrying about the Omsbundman of Bumpkinville accidentally saying "Negro" and looking more towards problems like these: To keep these people from having kids too early and shooting themselves in the foot before they even have a chance to succeed. Wasn't it mostly contained in the South? I really don't remember any laws in Michigan restricting blacks, nor out west. Please don't claim it was law everywhere when it really wasn't. My argument is, while racism isn't dead, it isn't the problem anymore. That's stuck on mainly an individual level and will become more and more scarce as we move forwards. The main problem is the idea that everyone is still a racist and that the system will always be geared against you so you won't be able to succeed without help. The whole "thug" thing that is really prevailant among inner-city kids (Not rap music). Oh fuck you. FUCK YOU. I just lost a ton of respect for you there. You are just as bad as fucking Jesse Jackson to devalue their struggles with identity in America by just saying "They could get over it because they were white". As if having White Skin is just the saving grace of any persecuted European minority. Not a lot of Irish people changed their names, oddly enough. I still see a lot of Thulls, O'Malleys, O'Hares, McCulloughs, and others. A lot of jews didn't hide either. They certainly didn't abandon their culture because we see so many of them proudly displaying it today. They were still used, abused, and persecuted. Thing is, they didn't constantly complain of being a victim like you are right now. They worked past it, and I believe the black race can do the same if they stopped trying to blame everything bad that happens on them on someone else and focused on making themselves better. Yes, because my mom is a flaming racist because of her father... oh wait, no she isn't. But her friends are... wait, no they aren't. But my dad is... wait, no he isn't. But his friends are... well, maybe Johnny. But seriously, just shut up, man. You are the one looking like the fucking moron here. Fact is that racism of any type towards minorities is almost universally reviled in today's society. It's not fucking widespread as it once was; we've come a long long way. It's not dead, but it certainly isn't a problem that is holding back the black race. And yes, being part of the younger generation I've experienced tons of racism. It works both ways, and this massive paranoia that you seem to have only creates more of it. I'd guess that you are one of the people who give me an angry stare when I smile and say "Hello" on the street... *Sits and waits to be called a nig-I mean, racist. Hey, it holds about as much hate against me as that word does to you. Don't feel so inclined to throw it around like nothing, pricks.*

I don't even remember sending it. I've had a busy month, though, so I probably just forgot about it...

Comet stares at the sight in virtual awe, “I swear to god, Wildchild must have a mutant healing factor. There is no way that man should even be MOVING at this point. He might have broken his ribs again. He might have punctured a lung!” “First off Comet,” replies Bobby Riley, “I think you’re missing out on the point that Judge Hearford might have done those things TO Wildchild. Secondly, so what? He’s got nothing left after that powerbomb.” “He’s got determination! He’s got guts!” “That will be splattered all over the ring if he doesn’t get out of here.” Crashing into Tom with a running boot to the top of his head, Hearford once again quiets the crowd that had responded so well to the rising of Wildchild from the ashes. Looking down at his former ‘master’ Hearford sets himself up and comes falling down on Tom like a ton of bricks with a solid elbow that finds its home in Tom’s chest. Rising up as quickly as he can, The Judge once again delivers the blow while Flesher writhes in pain from the weight of the world dropping down on him. Slowly and methodically, Hearford hauls the wounded champion off the mat and uses a whip to send him across the ring. Dropping his head down low, Judge looks to backdrop Flesher right into the stratosphere only to have his plans foiled with a crushing kick right to the head! “YAKUUUUUUZA KICK!” calls out Comet as The Judge falls strait back to the canvas as Flesher leans back against the ropes, struggling to get some wind back in his sails. Knocked almost unconscious from the shock of his spine being compressed in such a manner, The Judge can barely move as he starts to crawl over to his corner and to his suddenly far more nervous partners. But Tom does not even have as far to go and he staggers right into the direction of Wildchild… And stops. “What the…” questions Riley as Comet looks on with pride in his eyes. Getting one clear eye full of Wildchild, Flesher shakes his head at his partner who is now shouting wildly to have Tom make the tag. But Flesher knows that Wildchild is in simply no condition to help anyone, much less himself at this point. Tom knows that if Wildchild gets into that ring, that the three jackals on the other side of the ring will be on him in a moment. Shaking his head at Wildchild yet again, Tom turns his back on his partner and meets his fate as a freshly tagged in Erek Taylor runs him right over with a charging tackle right to the midsection! Dropping down to his own knees with the force of the impact, Erek immediately hooks a leg as the referee looks to end Tom’s stay in this match right here and now. ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Kicking out with his legs as hard as he can, Flesher still has not given up on this match as long as he still draws breath here in Australia. Looking at the referee with the look of a man that just doesn’t care anymore, Erek hauls a gasping Flesher off the canvas and heaves him into a neutral corner where he can set Flesher up the way he wants. Moving his prey’s arms over the top rope, Erek starts to jam closed right hands into Tom’s breadbasket time and again. Breaking off the attack at the referee’s prompting, Taylor smiles brightly to the crowd as they all seriously consider making a literal rush to the ring. But with enough security to protect Rush Limbaugh at a NAACP meeting, the Australians stand peaceably by and watch as Erek uses an elbow off the ropes to knock Flesher strait down to the mat once again. Shaking out the jar that his own elbow took with the shot, Erek wipes the blood from his face and shakes it off on a still rising Tom Flesher. Reaching out with his clean hand, Taylor brings Hearford back into the contest legally as Craven looks on jealously that he’s not getting a piece of the action right now. “This is not a good spot for anyone but those three monsters in the ring,” laments The Cyclone Comet as The Judge gets back into the ring and punishes Tom with another kick across the head. Stalking Flesher with the instincts of a tiger, Hearford strikes his downed opponent time and again with the brawling tactics that have been improved by his tag team stints with Ejiro Fasaki. Satisfied by the damage that he has done to the World Champion with his blows, The Judge hauls Tom up to his feet and once more places a boot into the solar plexus of his foe. Then reaching for Tom’s arm, Judge uses it to toss his former boss into the ropes for another lariat. But as Hearford swings his arm around, Flesher smartly ducks underneath the blow and runs into the ropes for more momentum. But as Hearford turns about, Tom’s sense of distance is sent off kilter and both men collide head-to-head in a full on collision that sends both men flying off in opposite directions! “Like two Bat Mobiles hitting with the afterburners on full!” “NANANANANANA … Shut up!” Both men rise up on shaky legs and welts rising up on their foreheads when suddenly a rapid change in the situation of the match is altered! TAG! Reaching over the top rope as Tom shakes his head back and forth, Wildchild slaps his exhausted partner across the shoulder to legally bring himself into the match. Stepping through the ropes and carefully pushing the stunned World Champion to the apron, Wildchild looks to buy his partner some time as he pops The Judge across the head with a right hand. It might be a suicide mission, thinks Wildchild, but he is going to buy Tom as much time as he can to recover. And beating the devil out of Hearford is just an extra-added bonus, which Wildchild is only too happy to cash in right this bloody second. Slamming his fist into the face of his hated rival, The Human Hurricane knocks Hearford down to the canvas once again. Immediately sliding into the enemy corner, Wildchild knocks Erek and Michael off the apron with two quick right hands. Getting right back on William, Wildchild pushes Hearford into the ropes and lowers his shoulder. Propelling Hearford into the ropes with a backdrop, Wildchild takes a moment to grab a hold of his ribs from the pain of even the most basic extension. “Wildchild is taking it to them all! If he goes down, he’s taking them down with him!” Hitting the ropes as gingerly as he can, Wildchild comes back up on the doubled over Judge and drives him down face-first on the canvas with his Caribbean Cutter variation of the rocker dropper! Gritting his teeth at his own impact on the mat, Wildchild grabs onto his own shattered ribs with the knowledge that there is no way that he hit that move the way he wanted to do to the lack of spring in his body. But what’s done is done and Wildchild makes his way up to the top rope as the crowd cheers in the vain hope that Wildchild can pull this out of the hat. But even as he rises up to his full extension, Wildchild has to take a moment to put a hand on his ribs before once again rising to his full height as The Judge gets up to his feet. Leaping at Hearford, Wildchild puts everything he has into one last shot… WHAM! “CLOSING ARGUMENTS STO!” roars out The Cyclone Comet as William snatches The Bahamas Bomber out of the air before slamming him into the canvas with the leg sweep slam. Getting up to his feet after the slam, The Judge backs into his corner and makes the tag to the nasty Erek Taylor and signals to his partner to give Wildchild a taste of his own medicine. Instantly running the apron and climbing up to the top rope from which Wildchild just sprang, Taylor settles himself on the top rope for just a moment before launching off the top and crushes The Hardcore Champion underneath his perfectly proportioned 180 pounds. Reaching back and hooking a leg, Erek looks right at Flesher as the referee’s hand goes up and down for… ONNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOO! THREEEEEEEEEEEEE! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO WILDCHILD KICKS AWAY! “STAY DOWN DOM!” shouts out Flesher from the apron as Wildchild just barely gets a shoulder up. “STAY DOWN!” Shaking his head with a laugh, Erek leaves Wildchild on the canvas and heads right back up to the top turnbuckle with his eye on pulling off a repeat performance. Looking down at Wildchild from the top, Taylor leaps into the air once again and strikes home with another shattering elbow to his broken foe. ONNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOO! THREEEEEEEEEEEEE! SWEET ZOMBIE JESUS HE KICKS OUT AGAIN! “GOD DAMN IT STAY DOWN!” calls out Flesher as Wildchild continues to fight and scrap his damn way out of Taylor’s presses and continues to buy Flesher the time he needs to recover. “Jesus,” mutters The Cyclone Comet. “Wildchild is fighting with everything he has but hell, he is risking serious injury by kicking out now. He needs to keep his ass down!” Laughing hard enough to virtually bust a gut, Taylor wants again makes his way right up to the top rope. With no fear and no hurry, Erek stands tall on the top rope yet again and points right at the downed shape of Wildchild with a gun shape formed with his fingers and pulls the trigger by dropping down on The Bahamas Bomber with the highest elbow yet. Crushing the life out of Wildchild yet again, Erek hooks the legs all the way over Wildchild’s shoulders as the referee quickly counts Wildchild out in the most merciful manner possible. ONNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOO! THREEEEEEEEEEEEE! <b>WILDCHILD HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!</b> Stepping off Wildchild with a sick little smile, Erek Taylor backs away from what has become the sole prey of the evil alliance and motions Tom Flesher into the ring for what just be his last stand. Stepping into the ring, Flesher saddles up to the coughing Wildchild as Taylor back all the way back into his corner for a happy huddle with his partners. Allowing Flesher all the time he needs to slowly move Wildchild up to his feet and over to the ropes. Assisting Wildchild out of the ring and into the waiting arms of security, Tom gives Wildchild one last slap on the shoulder to let the youngster know just how much his sacrifice has meant to the World Champion. And with that motion, Tom draws one more cheer for the Hardcore Champion as Wildchild lifts an exhausted arm into the air to the chants of the Australian rabble gathered about the ring. “WILD-CHILD! WILD-CHILD! WILD-CHILD! WILD-CHILD! WILD-CHILD!” But Wildchild can no longer provide anymore of his body in the effort to unseat the trilogy of terror. That is all up to ‘The Superior One’ Tom Flesher. And so Flesher turns into the lion’s den and the smiling face of ‘The Wonder Kid’ who is more than happy to get his first licks on The World Champion. Together these rivals meet in the center of the ring for nary a second before Tom shoots low and drops Erek to the canvas with a double leg takedown. Immediately mounting Erek in order to keep him down on the canvas, Tom uses a huge slapping right hand to knock Taylor across the face and gain control of his foe’s arm. Instantly turning over with the arm in hand, Flesher looks to hyperextend the arm with a cross armbreaker only to have his efforts blown away as Craven instantly slides into the ring and stomps Tom across the face with a kick into the Champion’s exposed face. But before the referee can even complain, Michael is right back out of the ring and back to his position on the canvas. “Ha!” laughs Bobby Riley maliciously. “Tom is not going to be able to use that boring ass submission stuff here with two guys ready and waiting to crush his spine on the apron. He’s never going to be able to lock anything in effectively here.” Popping up to his feet and tossing an appreciative head nod the way of Craven, Erek punts Tom across the face as The World Champion stumbles up to his feet. Pulling Flesher off the canvas, Taylor pushes Tom into the ropes and launches into air for a dropkick only to have Tom grab a hold of the top rope and allow Taylor to crash into the canvas with the back of his head. Immediately snagging Erek off the canvas, ‘The Superior One’ sends Taylor into a neutral corner and crushes him into the turnbuckles with a charging knee to the middle of the sternum. Immediately rolling with the impact of the blow, Tom manages to use the strike to roll over the top rope and land on the apron as Erek gasps for breath. Immediately grabbing Taylor by the hair, Tom places a knee behind the Wonder Kid’s head and … WHOOOOOOOOOOSH! THUNK! “Flesher got pushed right off the top!” reports The Cyclone Comet as Flesher lands in a heap on the concrete! What a cowardly attack by The Judge who put a hold on that Ego Trip.” “Hey, it’s three on one! They have every right to make a save whenever they feel the need. And obviously The Judge and Craven have no interest in watching Tom take Taylor out of this match. And don’t think they don’t pay the price. They have to listen to the referee give them a warning!” “Oh heaven forbid.” Shaking out his head as he escapes from the corner, Erek looks out at the mangled carcass of Tom Flesher that is now splattered onto the floor. Shrugging his shoulders as though to question the referee as to what just happened, Erek pulls the official out of position as The Judge drops down to the apron and collects his former teammate off the concrete. Then lifting Tom into the air in position for a body slam, The Judge walks him over to a closely parked car and drops his ass across the top of a Honda Civic parked nearby! Careening off the hood, Tom sprawls to the concrete as The Judge raises his hands up to the crowd and draws a cheer all too familiar to his partner. “FU JUDGE! FU JUDGE! FU JUDGE! FU JUDGE! FU JUDGE!” Flipping off the crowd with a smile on his face, Hearford collects the pieces of Flesher that still remain before sending him underneath the bottom rope and into the waiting arms of Erek Taylor. Immediately pulling Flesher up to a standing position, Taylor hooks his foe up and sends him down to the canvas with a shattering vertical suplex! Floating over with the impact in the Barry Windham style, Erek immediately hooks a leg as the referee slides into the ring and starts to make a count of … ONNNNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NO KICK OUT AT TWO! Looking at the referee in a way that would normally indicate that he just grew a second head, Erek nonetheless continues to batter away at the World Champion with a punch to the stop of his head that sends The Superior One flat down to the canvas once again. Grabbing his foe off the mat however, Taylor pulls him over and closer to the corner inhabited by The Judge and Craven and pushes his back against the ropes. Reaching for Tom’s jugular, Taylor throttles his foe against the ropes as the referee orders him to release the illegal hold. Breaking at the count of four, Taylor backs off while jawing at the referee and drawing his attention away from ‘The Superior One’ so The Judge can once again mount a surprise attack! BLOCK! PUNCH! TUMBLE! But as Judge takes a swing from the apron, Tom snaps to life and uses an arm to block the attack. Then firing a palm thrust up and underneath his chin, Flesher knocks William right off the apron and to the arena floor much to the delight of a crowd hungry to see any sort of rally. But The Wonder Kid senses that immediately and charges Flesher once more only to have his body elevated up and over the top rope not only crashing against the concrete floor but onto Judge Mental as well! Collapsing onto the floor in a heap, the pair receives a look of absolute anger as Flesher stares down from the ring. But a stare is never going to hurt as much as a forearm to the back of the head that Craven delivers only a second later! “Come on referee!” admonishes The Cyclone Comet. “Craven isn’t the legal man!” “I don’t think it matters!” Pulling the stunned Flesher out into the center of the ring, Craven dips low and pulls tom onto his shoulders with a fireman’s carry! The crowd gasps as Craven looks to make it a double with the Gulf Coast Crunch! But as Craven wheels Flesher around, The World Champion manages to push himself off Michael’s shoulders just enough to counter his way free! Then wrapping Craven around the body, Tom immediately pulls him backward to the mat with a roll up before arching all the way back with a Backlund bridge! ONNNNNNE! TWOOOOOO! THREEEEEEE! “Come on referee!” shouts Bobby Riley with the most indignant shout ever. “Craven isn’t the legal man!” “Oh the icy hand of karma rears its ugly head once again.” “But … but…” <B>MICHAEL CRAVEN HAS BEEN ELIMINATED! </B> "Tom Flesher rolls Craven up for the elimination! Now it's two on one!" Riley cries out. "That will not be a problem. Citizen Flesher is resilient, and he will overcome all odds to achieve victory." "You're dreaming, Comet," Riley says. "Erek and Judge are both up after that little encounter and instead of only one person going in, they both slide into the ring together!” The referee tries to get one man out but already Tom Flesher is attacking the heels with a series of shoteis. He nails Hearford with a palm strike before alternating to Erek and nailing the Wonder Kid with another palm strike. The Champion is fatigued, and it is visible. He swings his hand towards Judge Mental, only to have his attack effectively blocked. Hearford retaliates with a stiff kick to the midsection, staggering Tom a few paces back as Erek hops in, leaps into the air and FLOORS the Champion with a nasty spinning wheel kick! You can hear the boos and Erek is back on top, pinning Tom's shoulders to the canvas and going for the win- ONE! TWO! THREEOHHH! KICK OUT! Erek gets up to his knees and looks to his remaining partner, Judge Mental. The look on his face is no doubt one of frustration. Erek grabs Tom by the hair, and drapes the Champion's arm over his shoulder. With one quick snap, he abruptly falls backwards, and pulls Tom over, planting him into the ring with a snap suplex. Erek gets up and tags Judge in. The two join forces and pick Tom up, delivering a one-two punch before grabbing hold of the Champion's wrist and sending him hurling to the ropes. Tom rebounds, and in perfect harmony, Erek heads to the perpendicular ropes, using them for a quick boost as Hearford bends down to hoist Tom in the air. Tom's head sticks out over, and Erek comes in just in time to leap in the air, bringing two boots to the side of the World Champion with a missile dropkick! "Great bear hug to dropkick sequence by Erek and William!" Riley exclaims as Erek heads out of the ring and stays aware at Team Heel's corner as Judge Mental pushes Tom on to his back and goes for the cover. “This has got to be it!” ONNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOO! THREEEEEEEEEEE! YES? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! OOOOHHHHHH! “KICKOUT! I can't believe it! Tom is still fighting and he refuses to go down!” Erek cries out from the apron for a better count but the referee reassures us that it is a SWF standard cadence. Judge lifts Tom up, and with no padding on the outside, he sends Flesher hurling towards the ropes! Erek pulls down the top rope and Tom goes flying out, crashing to the concrete floor outside! The scratches and blood are easily seen as Erek drops down from the apron and Judge exits the ring. The two double-team Tom on the outside, each taking a side of the Champion before sending him hurling into the nearest automobile! Tom's body bounces off but Erek is right there to grab him by the hair. With all his strength, he sends Tom Flesher like a Randy Johnson fastball right into the car's windshield! CLANG! Riley continues, "OOOOH, the windshield shatters from the collision and Tom rolls over, his face bloodied even more from the shattered glass!" "There is always hope, even in the face of adversity," Comet replies. "Maybe so, but even Flesher doesn't know if he'll come out of this match alive, let alone successful." The referee continues to count, but that is the least of anybody's worries as both heels jump on the automobile's hood. With Flesher laying battered and bloody in between, Erek Taylor brings the Champion back up. Judge picks Flesher up and places him in powerslam position, stalling as Erek climbs to the top of the car. There, he lends a hand, and in one swift motion, the two powerslam Flesher into the windshield once more, this time, sending the World Champion through it and into the car's leather seats! The glass shatters everywhere as Flesher begins to cough out blood! The carnage is sickening and a thundering wave of boos echoes throughout the entire arena. It can be heard at every inch of the building. Nobody can escape the sickness. "A cold and calculated takedown of the Superior One," Riley continues, "as Judge reaches through the car's nonexistent windshield and drags Tom Flesher back out. The shattered glass laying around serves as another weapon, slicing their way through Flesher's skin as Hearford tosses Flesher on to the concrete floor!" Tom rolls over on to his front, and there on his back, the camera clearly displays the carnage. His back is bloodied up, with cuts almost everywhere and blood oozing out without remorse. There are still some glass still pierced in Tom's body, and the tips of those shattered pieces still stick an inch up. Mental hops down from the car and goes back into the ring as Erek rolls Tom back in to stop the count. Blood smears across the canvas and even the official is fighting not to throw up. Riley says, "Bringing the Champion back up to his feet, he pummels Flesher with a fierce right hand. Judge shoves Flesher into the corner, and still so weakened from all that punishment, Tom Flesher is a sitting duck as Judge Mental thrusts his shoulder into Flesher's midsection." The shoulder thrusts nail Flesher hard, and the Champion coughs out blood, right on Judge Mental's shoulders. Judge smiles, a sadistic smile, and with his hands gripped firmly around Flesher's waist, Hearford hops back one step before hurling Flesher into the air, driving him into the canvas with a belly to belly suplex. The impact shakes the ring as Judge pins Flesher down. ONE! TWO! THRE- OHHHH! KICKOUT! Still, Flesher kicks out, much to Judge and Erek's frustration. Erek waves no for a tag, seemingly in control as he advises Judge Mental to continue to wear the Champion down. Judge Mental does so without hesitation, grabbing on to Flesher's legs and pulling the Superior One on to his front. Judge mounts himself on Flesher's back, and with both legs in hand, he starts to pull, trapping Tom Flesher with the Boston Crab. Flesher instantly grimaces, screaming out in pain. "Judge is hurting Tom in two ways," Riley says, "one with the submission series that he is most famous for, and the other, sitting on the shattered pieces of glass still stuck in Tom's body. He's just pushing them further in, Comet." "One must think that this was the reason the evildoers manipulated everything to have the match take place out here. Away from the fans, away from the safety of the mats. A brilliant, but still heinous, strategy." Tom starts to reach for the ropes. The thought of submitting was never an option and he starts to pull William Hearford along for the ride. He's strong but Judge keeps a firm grasp on what's going on, pulling Tom back to the center of the ring. He throws the legs down and drags Tom back up. Grabbing hold of Flesher's wrist, Mental sends him hurling across the ring, but Tom counters with a desperation whip of his own. Judge rebounds, and Tom goes for a Yakuza kick, but the fatigue is a factor and Judge is allowed to evade it with ease. Judge heads to the ropes again, and Erek is there to tag himself in, just as Judge dives ahead and clobbers Tom with a lariat! Tom falls head over heels, crashes into the canvas and before he can even comprehend what's going on, Judge is already stomping away on Tom's legs. Erek moves in and grabs both of Tom's legs. He sticks one leg through the right and crosses the Champion's legs into a "X" formation before spinning around, locking in the Sharpshooter! The pain is immense and right away, Tom is sent into a panic, something not seen before. He wails around but Judge Mental puts a stop to that, sitting down on Tom's right hand before adding more pressure by combining his Cobra Crossface with Erek's Sharpshooter! "Plea Bargain!" Both announcers exclaim. Riley continues, "Judge Mental and Erek Taylor has locked in the Plea Bargain on Tom Flesher. Will he tap out?! He's taken so much punishment but yet he still won't give up. The referee moves over and asks for submission and Flesher stubbornly shakes his head. Blood continues to drip out of his mouth. He's in the worst condition of the three remaining competitors. Judge barely has blood smeared across his body while Erek's face is a bloody pulp. Tom, though, looks like he's about to die. But yet he fights on!" "The Heart and Will of a Great Champion! Citizen Flesher will always fight on." "The referee counts the submission out and Tom Flesher has gotten a huge break! Judge is forced out of the ring and Erek is in there to continue the, basically, slaughter of the SWF World Champion. Erek goes for the pin but once again, Tom Flesher kicks out before the three hits. Erek brings Tom up, and connects with a right hand. he lashes out with a hard chop before grabbing hold of Tom's wrist and hurling him towards the ropes. Tom rebounds, and Erek leaps into the air, right away taking Tom Flesher down with a jumping calf kick. He races to the perpendicular ropes and rushes in to nail Tom with a leg drop. Here's the cover: ONE!! TWO!! THREE- AND OH! Tom still kicks out! Tom regains his focus, and as Erek reaches down to pick him up, Tom finds his hands go up to pull the Wonder Kid down by the neck. The Champion quickly rolls Erek up into a cradle, taking everyone by surprise! ONE! TWO!! THRE- and Erek kicks out! Both combatants struggle to their feet and Erek makes the first lunge towards his opponent. He swings his right hand, but Flesher blocks it with his left before retaliating with a palm strike of his own. Erek is caught off guard and he tries for another punch, and again, it is blocked and countered with a shotei. Erek is in disbelief but Flesher starts to gain momentum, driving a knee into the High Flying Prince's midsection before quickly trapping him with the front facelock. Flesher starts to choke the life away from Erek, who desperately tries to get some wiggle room. But the Champion has tightened the hold, and now weakening Erek more as he drives some knees upwards into Erek's face." "It's hard to pin anyone down for 3 in the SWF, let alone the Champion," Comet says. "And now Citizen Flesher is coming back with an assault of his own. A long awaited one too, I might add." Not for The Judge though obviously, as he's already shouting out words of encouragement to Erek, who continues to try to battle out of the front facelock. Tom has Erek right where he wants him, and now he wrenches the chin and underhooks Erek's arm. Tom attempts to lift Erek up for the Cement Drop, but he just cannot! He's too tired out after fighting 3 wrestlers for the majority of the match. Erek takes advantage and starts to push Tom towards his corner, but Tom stops the attempt by dropping to his knees, taking out Erek's footing. But the High Flying Prince is just as resilient, still crawling even though his arms are bent out of position. He starts to push and push, eventually getting Flesher in Judge Mental's proximity, who takes quick advantage and strikes his hand across the air, nailing Flesher upside the head! Flesher's hold has been broken down, and Erek leaps into the air to deliver a dropkick that glues Flesher into the corner! Erek tags in Judge Mental and the two begin to stomp away, driving many kicks into Tom Flesher's torso before each takes a hand and sends Tom the opposite way with an Irish whip. Judge then takes hold of Erek's hand and whips the high flyer forward, who uses the speed boost to leap into the air, flying right into Tom Flesher with a heavy forearm to the forehead! Diving Adelphia! Erek exits the ring as Tom staggers forward. Erek casually heads out the apron as Judge tries for a whip, but Tom senses the opportunity to capitalize and he counters the whip, sending Judge right towards Erek Taylor! Erek doesn't see it, and Judge crashes into him, sending Erek flying out of the ring and to the concrete floor below! The collision dazes Judge Mental, allowing Tom Flesher to circle his wrists around Judge's waist. With all the strength left in him, Tom Flesher hoists Judge into the air and drives him into the canvas with a nasty German Suplex! He holds on and forms a bridge for the pin! ONE! “WHERE DID THAT COME FROM?” TWO! “OH MY GOD!” THREE!!" <B> JUDGE WILLIAM HEARFORD WHAS BEEN ELIMINATED!</B> The fans inside the arena erupt as Funyon announces the elimination. Judge Mental gets pushed out of the ring by the referee as Tom Flesher starts to stagger. "The Judge has been eliminated! Erek versus Tom Flesher! One on one!" "What a brilliant turnaround from Citizen Flesher!" Erek slides into the ring too late to make any attempt, but he catches Tom off guard, darting forward and driving the Champion's face into the canvas with a one handed bulldog. Meanwhile, on the outside, Judge Mental is staggering to his feet and not the least bit pleased with the flash elimination. Erek is now the only one left for his team though as security officers look to force Judge from ringside. But the Judge simply doesn't want to go! He's pushing away, angrily throwing the security officers into one another as they try to bring the big man down! The commotion doesn't stop Erek, who quickly pins Tom and this is for the win. ONE! TWO! THREE! OOHHHH! NOOOO! KICKOUT! Tom Flesher kicks out at the last second and Erek is outraged! He gets right into the referee's face, pushing the official into the corner and demanding for a better count! The referee tries to get out of the corner but Erek pins him in! Outside, Judge breaks free from the security officers and he quickly goes under the ring..... pulling out.... Oh my god... He pulls out a sledgehammer! That's gonna scare those security guys away. Waving the hammer around like a madman, the officers back off, and Judge, with one eye spying on the officers, slides into the ring! Tom Flesher slowly staggers up, and he sees Erek cornering the referee, blocking the official from seeing anything else. The referee tries to move one way, but Erek blocks him. The referee is just blind and Tom, who doesn't even know Judge is behind him, starts to advance towards Erek! The fans are loud but not even they can warn their beloved Champion as Judge Mental goes in..... BAAAMMMMM! ... And with a mighty swing he nails Tom upside the head with the sledgehammer! Blood begins to spill and Judge Mental slides out of the ring and starts to walk away slowly. He calls to Erek, who immediately turns around and without hesitation, drops to the floor and covers Tom for the pin! The referee quickly drops down to the canvas, and Judge raises both his hands in victory.... ONE! TWO! TWO AND A HALF! TWO AND THREE QUARTERS! THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!! KICKOUT! KICKOUT! KICKOUT! TOM FLESHER KICKS OUT! Judge cannot believe it! Erek cannot believe it! Judge tries to go back in but already the security officers have armed themselves with batons, preventing Judge from interfering anymore! Erek slams his fist into the canvas, as if to say, they had it." "I am just as shocked as anyone is, Robert. Citizen Flesher is just an amazing individual but I didn't think that even he could break out of that one," Comet admits. "The fans are deafening, cheering as hard as they can for their fallen Champion. There's still hope in their hearts and Tom can feel it, as much as I hate to admit it," Riley says. "I don't think Citizen Flesher is a psychic, though, Robert." "You think he's the best thing to come into this world since Pepsi but you don't think he's a psychic. You're something else, Comet." Erek hides his face in his arms, more frustrated than anyone else in the world at this moment. The chances to take down Flesher were plentiful, but every time, the World Champion would always repeal the attacks. Erek gets up and he grabs Flesher by the hair. Exposing Flesher's bloody face to the ceiling, Erek starts to slap Flesher while also insulting him right in his face. And then he spits at him! Erek smears Tom's blood across the canvas and drags the World Champion up. With a quick jab, Erek follows up by grabbing hold of Tom's wrist. He hurls Tom across the ring, right into the corner. Without hesitating, Erek races after the Champion, but Tom can hear the High Flying Prince's footsteps, and as he crashes into the turnbuckle, he instantly pops his boot up, and Erek runs right into a steel toe! Erek staggers back, and Tom moves forward, more tired than anyone else in the entire world, to floor Erek Taylor with a clothesline. The fatigue is playing a major factor in this match up, as Tom is too tired to focus on actually winning this match. "It was three against one, Robert. Three against one." "I know that, Comet." Both fighters limp to their feet and Erek strikes back. The High Flying Prince connects with a right hand and Tom Flesher tries to block it but his arms are too slow and he gets knocked upside the chin. Blood continues to pour down from both competitors, but Erek is running on pure adrenaline while Flesher's body is about to give. Erek connects with another punch before extending his right leg and shooting it into the Champion's torso, knocking Tom to the canvas. He can't even stand up! Erek drops down and goes in for the pin. This could be it. ONE! TWO! THREE! AND STILL! Tom Flesher kicks out before the final count. Is he running on some kind of timed steroids? What magical force is preventing him from going down for the three but also prevents him from putting up a fight! "I don't know, Robert. Arnold?" "Oh please, Comet, Ah-nold is actually a robot from the future." "You're right, Robert, absolutely right." "Of course I am," Riley says. Back to the ring, where Erek brings Tom up, and right away, Tom breaks free of Erek's grapple and drives a knee into the High Flying Prince's midsection. Erek doubles over, allowing Tom to trap him down with the front facelock again. Erek starts to battle out of it, but Tom, without wasting much energy, drops to his knees quickly, and Erek goes down faster than Joan Collins. Erek's forced down as Tom starts to increase pressure, wearing down Erek's neck area, no doubt setting him up for the Boilermaker. He sprawls backwards and drives some knees upwards into Erek's head before getting Erek back face down. Flesher drags Erek back up, and releases the facelock in a hurry. Erek's arms go wailing back, allowing Flesher to glide his hand forward for a shotei. Flesher repays Taylor with a bitch slap before lunging in and circling both arms around Erek's waist. Before Erek can comprehend what's going on, Flesher spins behind Erek, drops down to the ground and pulls the high flyer over into a cradle. ONE! TWO! THRE- and Erek kicks out in a hurry! Flesher doesn't stop there, and as Erek starts to get up, Flesher leaps forward and jumps on Erek's back, trapping the high flyer with a sleeper hold. He uses his legs to clamp on, and Erek is being worn down. He starts to fight out of it, and after multiple elbows into Flesher's torso, Erek breaks free. Both fighters hurry to their feet, but Erek gets there faster. Tom, still feeling the effects of a long drawn out match, gets knocked down from a punch. But he comes right back with a shotei, another shotei before grabbing hold of Erek's wrist and hurling him across the ring. Erek rebounds, and Tom bends down, allowing the momentum to carry Erek over, and at the precise time, Tom stands up to hurl Erek in the air. Body toss. Erek rises back up, using the referee as support! But the referee tears his arm away, pushing Erek forward, right into a straight low kick by Tom Flesher! And the kick sends Taylor right back where he started, right into the referee! The referee is cornered and Erek is laying against the official. Tom limps over and right away, goes for the Yakuza kick.... ... And Erek meets it with a Yakuza kick of his own! The boots meet in midair and nobody seems to be gaining any advantage. Tom is too fatigued to power his way through with a kick that he made famous in this league, and Erek, with his agility, uses the same leg to kick Tom's leg aside before jumping to the second rope and flying forward to floor the Champion with a spinning wheel kick! Beautiful execution! "If this was a proper match, then the floor would be mopped by the evildoer." "Stop being bitter, Comet," Riley quips, "and just enjoy the match. I am loving every moment of it. Erek grabs Flesher's head but instead of going for any move, he drags the Champion to the ropes where he starts to rub Flesher's head against the ropes. Left to right, left to right, and the ropes are doing their job! Rope burn! The blood continues to spill until finally the official stops the attack. Erek grabs hold of Flesher's arm and after a couple of twists and spins, he rolls through and has Flesher in the cradle. ONE! TWO! THREE- and still Tom Flesher kicks out! Erek slams his fist into the canvas, wondering how much punishment he has to inflict to bring Tom Flesher down! Erek brings Tom up in a hurry, but Flesher breaks Erek's grip and fights back with a palm strike. Erek is dazed and he gets knocked back one step with another shotei. Feeling the momentum change, Flesher heads to the ropes. He bounces off the trio of ropes for leverage and runs in to shoot his right foot forward... Yakuza kick! .... OH! And Erek catches it in the air! The kick was no doubt slower than usual and Erek read it to catch the boot in the air. Tom hops on one leg but before he can try for any counter, Erek throws the leg he caught to the side hard enough to spin Tom Flesher around a complete 360 degrees! Tom stops to a kick from Erek and he doubles over from it. Erek steps forward and wraps his arm around Flesher's head, and with a twist and drop, Erek nails Tom Flesher with the reverse stunner! Uncontested reverse stunner! FAME AND FURY! Erek drops down and goes for the cover… ONE! TWO!! THREE! ***Ding, ding, ding*** Inside the ring, Funyon announces, "The winner of this match and THE SOLE SURVIVOR … EREK TAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYLOR!” Right away, the parking lot erupts in boos and jeers but nevertheless, they are left with a scene of Erek Taylor with both hands raised in victory. "Tom Flesher gave a hell of a fight after going up against three fighters for the majority of the match but in the end, the fatigue hit him and he could not contest with a fresher Erek Taylor." "Citizen Flesher will get his dues soon but for now, the evildoers can celebrate their victory. The battle has been won, but the war is still up for grabs." "Strangler goes crazy, Tom goes superhero, and Erek is still the cocky bastard that I respect. That seems about right." "Well from my crazy partner and I, Cyclone Comet, we sign off after a great Ashes to Ashes!"

And here it is. I have to say my opening is weak as I've been increasingly running low on time for this little endevor because of school work and OMG a social life. Couple that with getting sick from Arby's and it makes for a lackluster start . Personally I think everyone on my side did great, though I think the weakness that I put into the match was what may have cost it. Arg. Sorry guys, but I'm just burning out big time and hopefully having a break this week can solve that. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- BOOM! BOOM! BOOOOOM! Another round of fiery pyros shoot up from the stage, sparking off a huge pop from the Sydney crowd for the upcoming Main Event! A small “Flesher Chant” breaks out as the camera pans over the packed arena full of Australians ready and raring for the final match of Ashes to Ashes! The camera notes various different signs, but one strikes a chord with the production crew: EIGHT MEN ENTER! ONE MAN LEAVES! “This is it, Bobbie! The ultimate clash between good and evil! One man is going to walk away with a win for his team while 7 others are going to be put down on their backs for a pin! I can’t wait for this thing to start!” “Definitely! I can’t remember the last time we had an 8 man elimination tag! This thing is going to be full of ass-kicking action!” “We have the Tag Champs and their #1 Contenders, the World Champ and HIS #1 Contender, and a serious grudge-match between long time enemies. The fact that we have all of those men in one ring tonight is utterly astounding. But there can be only one man victorious in this one.” “Indeed, and that’s gonna be Michael Craven! The guy has been gunning for Tom Flesher’s spot for a while now and he’s built himself up to finally take it!” “Oh no no no, my misguided friend, I don’t think Craven stands a chance against someone like the Boston Stranger. The former World Champion has had his sights on Erek Taylor for a long time now and with him back in the fold Strangler will stop at nothing to bring him to JUSTICE~!, even if it means plowing through the Tag Champs and Craven to get to him.” *DING DING DING* The ring-bell rings out as Funyon steps into the ring with his usual flamboyant attire; this time it’s a bright red sequin suit. The man raises up the microphone to his lips. “Ladies and gentlemen of Sydney Australia… It’s now time for our MAIN EVENT!” A massive pop as Funyon goes onto the description of the rules. “The following match is an elimination 8 man tag! To win, one side must completely eliminate the other side via pinfall, submission, or DQ! On our first team…” The hip sounds of the Philosopher King’s “I am the Man” hit, stirring the crowd into a frenzy as the lights begin to dim down. On the SmarkTron, things like “Award-Winning”, The Man”, “World Champion”, “Simply Superior” flash on and off while 3-second clips of the first team leader’s signature spots show on the big screen. A massive blue pyro hits, sparking a chain reaction of blow pyros lighting off all the way down the entrance ramp! As the smoke begins to filter out Tom Flesher appears, World Title slung around his shoulder and a cigarette in his mouth. He smiles as the fans give him their utter adoration, flinging the cigarette away as he walks down the ramp, giving a small wave in either direction to the Aussies. “Now entering the ring, weighing in at 213 pounds and hailing from Buffalo, New York, he is the current SWF WORLD CHAMPION! He is TOM ‘THE SUPERIOR ONE’ FLESHER!” “Tom’s smoking! Dear God, this lifestyle change is hurting him even more! See, Comet? This whole ‘loving the fans’ thing is gonna kill his body!” “I’m not a smoker, but Flesher’s been under a lot of pressure as of late. Besides his normal SWF schedule he’s been competing in the ‘When World’s Collide’ tournament, which he advanced in yesterday. It’s quite understandable that he’s a bit stressed as of late…” Tom slides into the ring and proceeds to step up onto the nearest turnbuckle, holding his belt high for a massive reaction! He walks over towards his side, handing off his belt to a ringside attendant as he waits for his teammates to enter. The opening riffs to Blue Oyster Cult’s “Godzilla” come over the sound system as another big reaction registers from the hot foreign crowd. On the big screen the words “Boston Strangler” flashes, just before a huge white pyro comes up from the middle of the stage! More cheers, and TBS walks out onto the entrance ramp, wearing his normal attire, ferocity burning from his eyes. He puts up an open hand in the air, his fingers wriggling, waiting to clutch the neck of one man: Erek Taylor. “Now entering the ring, weighing in at 303 pounds and hailing from Boston, Massachusetts, he is a former SWF WORLD CHAMPION! He is THE BOSTON STRANGLER!” The huge man enters the ring, looking across at Tom Flesher: He’s been an enemy to this man many, many times. He’s the original reason why he returned the SWF. The giant lowers his arm… … and tentatively reaches out a hand for a handshake. Tom cautiously accepts, and the two nod together in agreement. “It looks like old differences are going to be set aside tonight for a shot to take down these evil quartet,” notes Comet, “And putting aside grudges is going to be crucial for Tom Flesher’s team. Johnny and Wildchild are certainly no fans of the man, and both of them still have a little bad blood between each other…” Redman’s “Let’s Get Dirty” starts up as a lone spotlight begins to flash on and off in the center of the stage. A sizable pop arises as the Bahaman Bomber appears, Hardcore Title fixated on his waist. He races down the aisle, the flashing spotlight keeping a bead on him as he slides in and somersaults to his feet. “I CAN’T GET IN DA CLUB!” “Now entering the ring, weighing in at 226 pounds and hailing from Morgan’s Bluff, Andros, he is the current Hardcore Champion! He is THE WILDCHILD!” The lights suddenly turn as Wildchild reaches his feet, where he walks over to his partners and give them both a high-five as the crowd waits for the final member of Team Flesher to show up… “Johnny Dangerous!” Suddenly, the lights dim, and a sultry female voice breathes the name of the SWF’s resident super-spy. “After The Flesh” by My Life With The Thrill Kill Cult begins to thump through the crowds. Smoke fills the stage as tons of strobes cut through it and Johnny Dangerous walks out onto center stage. The ex-Super Spy jogs down the ramp, slapping hands with anyone nearby before making his way to the outside. He looks around for a moment, spying a cute young woman near the barrier. He walks over and takes his sunglasses off, putting them on her face and making her scream like an school girl at a Backstreet Boys concert. “Now entering the ring, weighing in at 217 pounds and hailing from Las Vegas, Nevada, he is the current SWF US CHAMPION! He is JOHNNY DANGEROUS!” The crowd gives a huge pop as Johnny goes over to his team, completing an all-star line-up of talent sitting on the apron. “There are three of the five active titles on just that team, Bobbie,” says Comet, “You have to admit that there’s certainly a lot of talent that Team Evil is going up against.” “Bah. A junk title, a title that hasn’t been defend since it was won, and a title that hasn’t had a real contender in a hell of a long time. All I see is a bunch of fool’s gold.” Suddenly the lights go down again as the SmarkTron lights up, showing the images of Michael Craven, Erek Taylor, Ejiro Fasaki and William Hearford. The crowd instinctively boos as all four give confident smirks. “Hey there, Australians!” says Craven in a mock cheery voice, “I’m sure you are booing the hell out of us right now. Can’t say I’m really that surprised from a bunch of idiots who were spawned by a 2nd rate penal colony.” “F-U CRAVEN! F-U CRAVEN!” Craven doesn’t seem to take notice of them, continuing to go on. “But as much as I could rant on and on about how Judge has probably seen more civilized convicts in Detroit than you people, I’m here to talk about a much more pressing matter: Tom Flesher.” The camera closes in on Tom at ringside, who looks deadly serious as he stares up at the screen. “Hey Tom, you sure lucked out that Grand Slam didn’t book me in a title match tonight, otherwise I’d make you the biggest US embarrassment to the international community since our President came to office. But hey, this way I get to beat 3 other losers along with you!” Craven gives a confident grin as the other three give consenting nods while the crowd gets even more restless for the blood of the heels. “So tonight you may keep your title, but you won’t be walking out a winner, Flesher. Hell, I’d count you lucky if you are able walk out after I’m done with you.” Another camera shot of Flesher, who gives his own little self-confident smirk at the last remark as Craven hands the mic over to Erek. “Strangler, Strangler, Strangler, I’m sure you wanted a one-on-one match with me, didn’t cha? Too bad, man! Flesher ruined your chance to get me in a ring with just you, and now I’m gonna make you suffer bad for it, man.” Erek gives a cocky grin as the camera focuses back on Strangler, who holds onto the ropes with a vice-like grip, getting tighter the longer he listens to the crowd-favorite-gone-sour. “You aren’t gonna get one hand on me, you overgrown gorilla-in-a-Red-Sox jersey. Every time you think you have me I’m gonna slip right through your hands. It’s gonna be more frustrating then nailing Jello to the wall, man. And then when get all angry like you always do I’ll just come over, Fame and Fury, and then pin your bitch ass like I always did in the good ‘ole days.” Tons of crowd heat as Stranger just glares at the screen, his teeth forming an angry grimace as the mic gets handed over to Justice and Rule. “So, instead of just getting two inept losers, we get a muscle-bound freak and a Benedict Arnold in the package,” says Hearford with his usual amount of spite, “Wildchild, Johnny, look at reality for a moment: You’ve NEVER beaten us. You never have, never can, and never will beat us. For a tag team, you have to be one of the most pathetic wrecks around. Suddenly you get a win over a second-rate tag team and you think you can be Tag Champions? Please...” The crowd boos as both Johnny and Wildchild watch on, obviously not happy with Hearford’s words. Hearford doesn’t respond to the heat he’s taking either, handing the mic over to Rule to finish up. “Hey, what did you expect, Judge? I tried to change Wildchild’s ways, but the boy just wouldn’t listen. Now I’m gonna have to stretch the holy hell out of the fool, same with his idiotic partner and his stolen title. And Flesher… Well, I think we all saw what happened on Smarkdown.” With that, the heels begin walking off to go to the entrance ramp… but Ejiro suddenly stops. “Oh yeah, wait a sec… we don’t need to go to the entrance ramp.” “What?” says Comet, a bit confused along with the fans. “… This is a tape.” Suddenly, from out of the crowd strikes the four heels! The first victim is Strangler as Justice and Rule sneak attack him from behind, pulling him down off the apron and putting him flat on his back! Strangler hits his head on the floor hard, causing him to clutch his cranium as Erek Taylor comes in from behind Wildchild, jumping up onto the apron and grabbing the surprised high-flyer, tossing him into the ring. Justice and Rule moves towards Flesher as Craven pulls down the much smaller Johnny Dangerous from the apron. He blasts him in the face with a forearm blow, knocking the crowd-pleaser backwards, giving the King of Nightmares enough space to wind up and plow him with his patented running forearm! He looks back towards Flesher as Justice and Rule move in on him, but he holds them both off with Shotei shots! Back and forth, the crowd beginning to rally up… … But gets cut short as Craven levels him from behind! Matty Kivell, not quite sure what to do, sees Erek beginning to hammer Wildchild in the ring with punches, and calls for the bell to try and keep things a bit more under control! *DING DING DING* On the outside, the three heels give each other a few high fives before walking over towards their side of the ring, quite confident that their surprise attack has put the face team on the defensive. “A surprise attack! I should have expected something like this from that bunch of cretins!” “Apparently the other team should have as well,” says Bobbie with a snicker, “Seriously, a brilliant tactic there by Craven, Taylor, Fasaki and Hearford. Now their opponents are left reeling and Wildchild is all alone in the ring!” Taylor pounds the confused Wildchild with punches left and right, pushing him back into the ropes and setting him up for an Irish whip. Erek hits the ropes himself as Wildchild comes back off the rebound and the heel takes flight, Thesz Pressing Wildchild with his hands around the man’s neck! Kivell immediately begins counting as Erek punches away! ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! F-And Taylor releases the hold as the crowd continues to heap heat onto the former ICTV champion. He pulls Wildchild up, giving him a hard kick to the stomach as he drags him over to the heel corner, where he tags out to Michael Craven. Justice and Rule both grab WC’s arms as Craven begins to get a stompdown on the helpless Hardcore Champion! Kivell starts another five count on the three… ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! F-And the Tag Champs release Wildchild from their grip as Craven pulls him up and begins to pound into him with forearms to the head! “Triple Teams, chokes, surprise attacks and closed fists! Team Evil has barely done anything within the rules tonight,” says Comet as the faces begin to get back onto the apron, all three wearing angry grimaces after being attacked from behind. “You aren’t breaking any rules if you don’t get a DQ, Comet. And a little bit of bending never hurt anyone.” “Tell that to Wildchild…” Wildchild staggers back from the forceful blows, allowing Craven to bend over and grab the smaller man around the waist. He picks him up powerslam-style before slamming his gut against his knee for a gutbuster! The crowd grimaces for Wildchild’s sensitive chest as he plays it up like he’s having a heart attack, clutching his chest protector in pain. Craven turns around for a moment to play up to the hot crowd… and the Bahaman suddenly stops clutching his chest and begins moving towards his corner! “What?! How can he be moving after that brutal Gutbuster?!” “The chest protector, of course! It softened the blow, as well as all those kicks he took in the corner.” “Why that dirty rat! He’s not suppose to cheat like that!” “Well,” Comet replies with a growing smile, “I guess Ejiro did teach him something…” Wildchild gets closer and closer to his corner, particularly toward TBS, as Craven finally begins to turn around... *SLAP* YEAAAAAAAAAAAH! Craven’s eyes go wide as the Boston Strangler comes running at him full tilt! He tries to duck, but he can’t do anything as the Superstation PLASTERS him with a huge lariat! Craven hits the ground hard, but he begins to get back up again, only to get hit with ANOTHER huge lariat! The crowd is going wild as Craven stumbles up, his bearings a bit off. He goes over towards the ropes, but he can’t elude Stranger, who grabs him by the wrist and tosses him towards the other side! The former World Champion lines himself up just right to put a big boot in the face of the King of Nightmares! Craven hits the ground hard, holding his face while TBS stands over him and points to Erek, mouthing “This is gonna be you!” to the cocky Anaheim native. Of course Erek can’t resist taunting back, mouthing off to the easily angered Strangler. “I wouldn’t be doing that if I were him,” warns Comet, “It’s like playing chicken with a freight train.” “Yeah, Strangler’s a freight train alright: Slow and just as dense. Taylor’s just playing him right now and the moron is falling right into his trap…” says Riley. The massive man rushes over to try and clothesline his arch-nemesis off the apron, but the nimble man easily leaps off before he gets a chance. This allows a slightly recovered Craven to sneak a tag right behind the monster’s back to Hearford, and the old man quickly gets into the ring. As Strangler looks out at Taylor, mouthing off a few threats to him, Hearford slides in behind him, pulling him down for a School-Boy Roll-up! ONE! TW-NO! Strangler gives a hard kickout before Hearford can put his feet on the ropes! The crowd cheers as Hearford gets back up to his feet, followed by a surprisingly quick Strangler. Hearford tries to grab a front headlock on Strangler, but the big man is determined and manages to stay up despite Hearford trying to pull him to the ground. TBS puts his arms around Hearford’s waist, and Justice struggles to stay on the ground as Strangler attempts… and does lift him off the ground, breaking the headlock, quickly snapping him back to the mat with a high-powered spinebuster! “And Strangler is dominating in the ring! He put Craven in full retreat and now he’s starting to wear out the Judge!” In the ring TBS grabs the Judge and jerks him up to his feet. Before he can even think about recovering he gets whipped towards the other side of the ring. He comes back, and TBS gets both his huge hands around Hearford’s neck for a choke! Actually lifting off the mat to a big pop, Stranger lives up to his name as Matty Kivell starts a five count. ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FI-And TBS just tosses Hearford back down to the mat! “T-B-S! T-B-S! T-B-S! T-B-S!” The crowd chanting his name, The Strangler pulls Hearford up and clocks him in the side of the head with a haymaker punch! Hearford stumbles backwards as TBS follows up with a huge hook that sends him reeling… and right into the face corner! Almost immediately Flesher reaches out and tags in, sparking a huge reaction from the Australian crowd! “FLESH-ER! FLESH-ER! FLESH-ER!” Tom pulls up the old veteran out of the turnbuckle and immediately locks up, slamming up against Hearford hard. The old man begins to lose some ground to the fiery World Champion, and he tries to reassert control by forcing Flesher back. But doesn’t budge, and in fact uses Hearford’s momentum against him, using the chance to duck under for a waistlock! He cinches it quickly, and even though Hearford tries to sandbag Flesher just has the momentum with him, lifting up the old man and planting him on his back for a bridging German Suplex! ONE! TWO! TNO! Hearford gives a strong kickout! The old man begins to get up, as does Flesher, and once again they are set upon each other again, locking up with each other again. The two struggle, slamming chests together as they try to gain an advantage over the other. Hearford seems to get the best at first, getting a wristlock on the World Champ. He quickly twists it into a Hammerlock, maybe looking for a suplex, but Flesher is quick to reverse the hold on Hearford by ducking under. He releases the Hammerlock and sweeps the feet right out from under the old veteran with his hands. With Hearford stuck on his belly, Flesher seizes the initiative and floats over to seize a front facelock on the old man. “Flesher and TBS have shown just how dominant they both can be, both controlling Hearford with ease so far.” “Hmph! Hearford’s stuck out in the middle on his own, of course he’s gonna get dominated! The guy needs a tag out and fast!” The old man slowly begins to get back up to his feet as Flesher continues to keep the lock firmly in place. He rises up to his feet and grabs Tom around the waist much like Strangler did to him earlier… but Hearford is on the receiving end of this one as well as Tom just falls backwards and slams his head into the mat with a DDT! The crowd cheers as Hearford holds his head with his hands, and Tom doesn’t give him much recovery time, yanking him up to his feet and whipping him against the ropes. Luckily for him, though, it’s just close enough to his side… *SLAP* “Blind tag! Fasaki is in!” cries a happy Riley as Hearford eats shotei but Flesher eats elbow, stumbling backwards like he just drank one too many screwdrivers. Ejiro keeps up the assault as he pushes Flesher backwards and allows his partner to get out without much hassle. Keeping the heat on, Ejiro fires off a few more elbows before grabbing Flesher and sending him to the other side of the ring. He lines him up for a Fujiwara Armbar, but as he grabs the Arm Flesher is able to stop himself from hitting the ground. He twists himself around, turning it into a wristlock and pulling Ejiro back towards the face corner, allowing Wildchild to tag in and step into the ring! “And I’ll bet Wildchild has been waiting a long time for a chance like this!” shouts Comet as WC gives Ejiro a sharp kick to the gut, doubling him over and stunning him briefly. He uses the chance to grab Ejiro around the face, snapping him back for a perfect Snap Suplex! The crowd cheers as Wildchild quickly rolls up to his feet, followed not long by Ejiro. The two square off, and Fasaki is the first to move in, trying to throw a dashing elbow WC’s way! But the Bahaman Bomber ducks, bouncing off the rope behind Ejiro and hitting Fasaki with a flying forearm! Ejiro falls down and Wildchild goes for a cover, but before he can, the heels decide to rush the ring! They move towards their fallen comrade, which sparks the faces to leap into the fray much to the delight of the crowd! The first casualty is Erek, who immediately bolts back out of the ring as Strangler rushes towards him. TBS looks at him for a moment, but goes back to the fray as Erek mouths off a few insults… *SPLAT!* Which allow Johnny Dangerous to execute a Tope Sucida unnoticed, squashing the heel like a bug underneath him! Hearford’s foray in doesn’t fare much better as his lariat aimed Wildchild connects, but his second at Tom is immediately ducked under, allowing Tom to nail him in the face with a shotei! The old man stumbles backwards as Tom continues to nail him again and again, finally knocking him back out of the ring with the force of his blows! *WHACK* But from behind comes in Craven, who hits Flesher hard with another forearm, sending him back to the outside via a hard running forearm! Craven turns around, looking satisfied with his work… *WHAM!* But gets a lariat from the Boston Strangler that lays him out on the canvas. TBS looks down at the man, a bit satisfied by his work... …Until a recovered Fasaki grabs his arm and locks his legs around his shoulder, taking him down with a modified rockdropper! “Fasaki Fuser, and it’s utter chaos in the ring!” cries Comet as Fasaki turns around and begins going after a rising Wildchild with elbows. He winds up for a Screaming Elbow, but the cavalry in the form of Johnny Dangerous reenters the ring and saves the day, hitting Ejiro with a spot on Johnny Kick before he can complete the move! “God damn it, Kivell, get some control in there! This isn’t the fricken Cluterf**k!” With Fasaki on the ground and heels now laid out, Wildchild and Johnny look at the crowd and begin to point at Ejiro and the turnbuckles, and everyone in the Sydney Super Dome knows what is coming up next. Johnny moves over towards the groggy Sarasota Cobra, pulling him up as Wildchild takes a cue and leaps up to the top of a turnbuckle. The ex-Super Spy lifts him to his feet before sitting him up onto his shoulders. He slowly steps towards Wildchild’s turnbuckle, turning his back on him as soon as he thinks he’s in range. With that, the Bahaman Bomber leaps off the turnbuckle and onto the top rope, springboarding off to catch Ejiro with an elevated Bulldog/Electric Chair Drop combo! YEAAAAAAAAAH! “DANGEROUS DROP! DANGEROUS DROP!” yells the masked announcer as Johnny returns to the apron, meeting up with his other teammates after successfully leaving the heel team to recover on the outside. Wildchild rolls Ejiro over and makes the cover… ONE! TWO! THREE~! EJIRO FASAKI HAS BEEN ELIMINATED! “EJIRO FASAKI IS GONE!” Comet screams exuberantly. “Flesher’s team now has the advantage!” “Shit! Shit! Shit,” Riley counters, “This is not good at all! It’s 4 on 3 and you know that Flesher’s band of criminals are going to take advantage!” The first of the heels begins to climb back up to his feet, and that man is “The King of Nightmares” Michael Craven, who knocks Dangerous down and out of the ring with a forearm smash. Hearford and Taylor are close behind as Erek slides in and jumps at Wildchild, knocking him down from behind with a flying forearm smash while Hearford begins to climb in behind the former face! The crowd boos loudly, trying to move in on the ring, but SWF security holds them back. However, the crowd cheers wildly again as Flesher hits the ring, Strangler slowly entering behind both men. The 3-on-1 advantage quickly disintegrates as Flesher and Strangler descend down upon Craven with dual elbows, and Strangler immediately turns his sights towards, watching Erek Taylor get back up from taking down WC. Charging at his nemesis, he lifts his leg up, but Taylor rolls out of the way of the sole of Strangler’s boot! “WHAM~!” Unfortunately for Erek’s team however, Strangler’s boot still connects with the man rising behind him, “The Judge” William Hearford! Hearford collapses to the mat as Taylor scrambles towards his downed ally Craven, jumping on Flesher’s back before he starts to throw punches into him. The Superior One struggles under the attack for a moment but quickly reaches around his head to grab Taylor by the hair and snap mare him over his shoulder and to the mat. While at the same time, Strangler grabs Judge by the head, pulling him to his feet while Wildchild gets to his fee and joins his tag team partner in the beat down on Craven. “Come on, ref! Restore some order here! This crap has gone on WAY too long,” screams Riley at the top of his lungs as the brawl continues throughout the entire ring. Thrown to the canvas only moments before, Taylor rises to his feet only to find himself face-to-face with ‘The Superior One’. Flesher immediately grabs Taylor around the waist in a waistlock, lifting him off his feet as he falls back, throwing Erek into an overhead release belly-to-belly suplex! Taylor flips through the air before he comes crashing down to the mat! “Railgun suplex from Citizen Flesher,” Comet remarks with enthusiasm. “Citizen Taylor is most certainly flying, but not as he wants to be!” “That’s not cute,” Riley jabs back. “If you didn’t spend so much time trying to make everything sound like it came from a comic book, then maybe you would be more like me!” “I don’t think anyone would want to be like you,” Comet answers, with a smirk from under his mask, “Unless they’re auditioning for ‘Queer Eye For The Straight Guy’...” “... Why... YOU...” As Riley boils over and Taylor hits the mat, Wildchild and Dangerous pull Craven to his feet, nailing him with simultaneous blows to the face before they each grab a wrist and whip Craven to the ropes. The King of Nightmares hits the ropes and comes flying back at the high-flying duo, who leap into the air and thrust their legs into Craven’s face with a vintage Rock ‘n’ Roll Express double dropkick! “A double dropkick of justice! Take that, evil scum,” Comet comments. Mike hits the mat hard, Wildchild quickly getting to his feet, where he covers Craven, the ref dropping to count... ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOO NO CRAVEN KICKS OUT! Using all of his strength, Craven flings Wildchild off but Johnny Dangerous is right behind to drop an elbow into Craven’s head. The Gulf Coast Hurricane cries out in pain, rolling onto his back, but Dangerous grabs him by the head, nailing him in the head with several punches as he and Wildchild get to their feet. “But that ‘dropkick of justice’ barely affected Craven! Don’t be so cocky, Comet. They might be down four to three but there is a whole lot of time still left in this ball game,” Riley says with a growing grin on his face. The focus of the action shifts back to Judge and Strangler for a second as Hearford rises to his feet, woozy following the blind boot to the face from Strangler. Strangler doesn’t wait for his foe to recover though and he nails Hearford hard with two right hands before whipping him to the ropes. Strangler, though, reverses his own whip, and pulls Hearford back towards him as he sticks his arm out and short-arm clotheslines Hearford to the mat! The Judge hits the canvas hard, remaining there as Strangler covers him, the crowd cheering while Kivell drops to count. ONNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOO! NOOOOOOOOOOO! Hearford kicks out right after two! Judge, however, is grabbed by the hair and is pulled to his feet and whipped into the corner. He hits the turnbuckle hard, but Stranger follows up, nailing Hearford with a hard charging clothesline! “A powerful clothesline from Citizen Strangler,” Comet yells over the cheering, rowdy fans. “Perhaps that’ll knock the evil out of this corrupt judge!” “I just want the referee to get some god damned order in this match! It’s not supposed to be a Texas Tornado match!” Hearford falls into the turnbuckle, allowing Strangler to work him over with a series of hard body punches. Meanwhile, Taylor gets to his feet from the last suplex, where Flesher greets him with two palm strikes and an Irish whip to the ropes. Taylor reverses the whip, though, pulling Flesher back towards him. Flesher, though, ducks underneath Taylor’s swinging arm, sliding behind him, applying a waistlock and lifts him up, slamming him onto his neck with a German suplex! “German Suplex on Taylor,” Riley reluctantly utters. “I can’t believe Flesher’s team still has the advantage! Why isn’t the ref doing anything?” “You want to tell Strangler he can’t beat the stuffing out of the unjust”, Comet inquires. “Well, umm... no. But that’s not my job!” As Strangler finishes up on Hearford, he backs off, Judge staggering out and resting on the ropes, trying to catch his breath. The big man, though, charges at him, arm extended, Strangler hitting Judge with a clothesline while he is up against the ropes to a pop from the crowd! “This is nuts! The ref needs to do something now! This chaos has been going on for too long,” Riley whines. Judge flies over the top rope but as he does so, he instinctively grabs hold of the top rope and pulls it down with him. This makes Strangler’s body tilt, and in a second, he, too is falling to the outside of the ring, both he and Judge landing on the concrete ground below with a loud thud! “THUD~!” “And a beautiful tactic by Judge to pull down that top rope,” answers Riley, “because he just took Strangler with him! They both took a serious splat there!” As this takes place, both Taylor and Flesher are rising to their feet after the latest suplex. Flesher calmly strikes first with a palm strike and then a whip to the ropes. Flesher waits as Taylor hits the ropes and then leaps forward and dropkicks Erek right across the kneecap! Both men end up on the canvas while Taylor grabs his freshly injured knee. “Dropkick to Citizen Taylor’s knee! Flesher is holding his own against the #1 contender to his belt,” Comet examines. Bobby Riley seems to think different. “He might now, but this match isn’t over yet! You just watch and see Taylor come back!” Meanwhile, Craven staggers to his feet, Wildchild on one side of him, Dangerous on the other. Sensing an opportunity, both strike, Wildchild leaping at Craven, lifting his leg up into a leg lariat at the same time Dangerous spins around, smashing Craven in the back of the head with a spinning heel kick! The double team move drops Craven to the mat faster than either kick would have, leaving Michael Craven grabbing his head in massive pain. “By Justice’s great scales,” Comet booms, “that is an amazing move! I’ve never seen that before!” “I don’t think it was on purpose,” Riley responds. However, as Craven hits the mat, grabbing his head in throbbing pain, Dangerous and Wildchild look at each other, then nod. Quickly, Dangerous picks Craven up, ducking down and lifting him onto his shoulders as for an electric chair drop while Wildchild moves towards the turnbuckle, hopping up to the top rope and positioning himself as Dangerous turns to face away from him The crowd pos. “They’re going up top for a Dangerous Drop again ” Comet exclaims, “and Citizen Craven is in serious danger of being the second man eliminated!” Bobby Riley seems less than pleased. “The hell they are! I hope that Wildchild breaks his neck when Craven ducks!” But as he gets to the top, Wildchild is suddenly grabbed, and with a hard tug, thrown to the floor by a recovering Hearford on the apron, flipping in mid-air as he lands chest first on the concrete floor of the parking lot! “THUD~!” Comet speaks angrily, his normal voice tone fading behind one of anger. “What a cheap move! A great injustice has just been done by that man who has the audacity to call himself a judge! Some judge he is!” “Oh, come on,” Riley retorts, “Judge didn’t do anything he shouldn’t have done!” As Wildchild grabs his ribs and loudly cries out in pain, Dangerous is left with Craven on his shoulders and no idea that his partner is no longer behind him. But that ceases to be an issue as The King of Nightmares nails Johnny in the head with a punch, then pushes down on his head, causing The Barracuda to double over and lower Craven to the mat. Craven lands on his feet, quickly crouching down as he slides Dangerous onto his shoulders. Without delay, Craven helicopter spins Johnny, catching him around the head as he sits out into a stunner! Bobby Riley jumps from his seat at the sight of the move. “GULF COAST CRUNCH! DANGEROUS IS DONE FOR!” Dangerous bounces away, landing back first on the mat, but Craven jumps on top of him, covering as the referee begins to count... ONNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOO! THREEEEEEEEEE! JOHNNY DANGEROUS HAS BEEN ELIMINATED! “YES! WAY TO GO, CRAVEN! SHOW ‘EM WHO’S BOSS!” Comet shakes his head as Riley begins to celebrate Craven’s sudden pin fall win over Dangerous, making it a 3-on-3 match. As this happens and Craven rises to his feet, Tom Flesher continues to go after Erek Taylor, stomping away at him on the mat with his Doc Martens. Taylor cries out in pain, but as the stomping continue, his cries are drowned out by a rising chorus of boos coming from the rowdy audience. Hearing the boos, The Superior One turns around, but is met with a hard right jab from the King of Nightmares! The move buys Erek Taylor time to escape while Flesher cries out, staggering back just one step, but Craven follows up, nailing Tom with a second right jab! Flesher staggers back another step as Craven unwinds, hitting a third jab to Flesher! Flesher staggers back a few steps, but Craven unrelentingly strikes, knocking the World Champion to the mat with a forearm blow! Flesher bounces off the mat, rising back to his feet, where Craven grabs him by the arm and whips him to the ropes. Flesher hits the ropes, flying back off them at Craven, but he throws the Gulf Coast Hurricane’s plans for a loop, slamming into his face with a jumping knee! “Jumping knee shot from Tom Flesher,” Riley cries out, “attacking that weakened head and neck of Craven! Damn him!” Craven hits the mat hard, slowly rising to his feet, where Flesher begins to nail him with a few hard knees. Mike cries out after each one, but Tom is not finished, grabbing Craven by the wrist and whipping him to the ropes! Craven, though, reverses the whip, pulling Flesher back towards him as he leans over. The King of Nightmares slowly scoops him up and turns around, smiling as the crowd boos loudly. Craven responds, dropping to a knee and slamming Flesher’s ribs down with a rib breaker! The crowd jeers Craven, who slowly lifts Flesher up, only to slam him into another rib breaker! “What power!” Riley seems genuinely astonished by the performance. “Craven’s tearing into Tom’s ribs! He won’t be able to take much more of this!” Craven smiles, knowing that he is instigating the crowd, but he doesn’t care. Pulling Flesher up one final time, he slams into the mat with a powerslam! However, he remains there, holding Flesher down for a pin attempt: One! Two! Kick out by Flesher! For the first time in the match, Craven looks honestly stunned. After the barrage on Tom’s chest, he expected more than that. He shows his anger as he slams his fist into the mat, screaming at the ref while half the crowd pops that Craven didn’t eliminate Flesher, the other half booing due to all the whining. “Citizen Craven only gets a two-count,” Comet observes, “and I don’t think he believes it, Robert!” “I sure thought that was enough! How the hell did he kick out of that?” As Craven gets to his feet, he staggers back towards his corner, where Judge and Erek wait. Craven reaches out, and with a slap of the hand, he tags himself out and tags in Erek Taylor. Taylor quickly steps between the ropes having shaken off the earlier basement dropkick and charges head-on at the rising Flesher. As Tom rises, Erek leaps into the air, nailing him in the face with a thrusting dropkick! Flesher falls to the mat, both he and Erek slowly rising up. Taylor, though, throws a knee into the gut of Flesher as he rises, causing him to double over. This allows Taylor the opportunity to run to the ropes, bouncing at the still doubled-over Flesher. While doing so, he reaches out with one hand, grabbing Flesher by the back of the head, and dropping to his knees, bulldogs Flesher into the mat! “A flurry of offense on Tom Flesher from Taylor,” Riley gleefully reports to the fans at home. “The Superior One doesn’t look so superior now!” Still grabbing hold of Tom’s head, Erek pulls Flesher to his feet as he gets up, nailing him with two hard blows to the face before he forces him over. Grabbing him in a front facelock, Erek sets Flesher up for a DDT, but Flesher quickly grabs Taylor around the waist, and quickly moving, lifts him off the mat, throwing him back into a sudden release Northern lights suplex that sends both men to the mat! “Northern light suplex from Flesher, and both men are down,” Riley states. “Who’s going to get to their feet first?” The referee looks down at both men, neither man moving, and after waiting a second, begins with the double count-out. “One!” Neither man moves, both men still immobile as the count reaches... “Two!” Slowly, we begin to see Tom Flesher twitch, then slide an arm out as he begins to crawl towards his corner. “Three!” Now Erek Taylor joins him, pushing himself off the mat at a snail’s pace as Flesher gets onto his knees, catching his breath while the count reaches... “Four!” Erek props himself up onto his knees, but Flesher has the advantage, as he has started to crawl towards his corner before the count of... “Five!” Erek and Flesher crawl towards their corner, the crowd cheering Flesher on as the count reaches... “Six!” Strangler leans over the ropes, Judge and Craven doing the same for Erek while Tom reaches up, Erek almost to his corner... “Seven-” “Slap!” But with the slap of a hand, Flesher tags in The Boston Strangler! “YES! We are about to see Justice in action,” Comet screams over the deafening pops of the crowd, “and it will be painful for Citizen Taylor!” “NO!” Riley, though, is in a panic, fearing the worst as the monster has been unleashed. “GET OUT OF THERE EREK!” As Erek reaches up for his corner, Strangler enters over the ropes, charging at Taylor. Erek almost has Judge tagged in, but Strangler, knocks him down with a boot to the back of the head! Taylor cries out in terror as the crowd goes nuts, Strangler grabbing Taylor and pulling him to his feet. The bigger man nails Taylor hard in the head with two still forearm shots, then follows up with a hard clothesline, slamming him into the mat! Strangler, though, pulls Erek Taylor right back up, nailing him with two more forearm shots, this time grabbing his arm and whipping him to the ropes! Erek hits them and flies back, Strangler grabbing him and lifting him into the air before slamming him back-first into the mat with a standing spinebuster! “Finally vengeance is coming home for The Boston Strangler,” Comet beams with a happy tone. “No more running and no for hiding. Erek Taylor’s reckoning is at hand!” Craven and Judge both run into the ring as Erek hits the mat, worried that Taylor is only moments away from getting slaughtered for winter stores. But both men are instantly grabbed by the throat, Strangler lifting them off their feet before slamming them down at the same time with their own personal choke slams! “DOUBLE PLUNGE!” Comet goes into JR mode, going nuts over the move for a second. “CITIZEN STRANGLER JUST HIT BOTH MEN WITH A SUPER-POWERED CHOKESLAM OF TRUTH, JUSTICE, AND THE AMERICAN WAY!” Craven and Judge lie on the mat, The King of Nightmares grabbing his back and rolling over as Strangler once again turns his attention solely to Erek Taylor. Grabbing Taylor by the head, Strangler yanks to his feet and whips him into the corner, Erek slamming back first against the turnbuckle and crying out in pain. Strangler, though, is just beginning to bring the pain, charging in after Erek Taylor. Leaping at him, he smashes Taylor in between the turnbuckle and himself, body avalanching the much smaller man! Taylor begins to fall backwards against the turnbuckle as Strangler pulls back, but the big man keeps him upright with a blow to the gut! Erek yelps as the crowd chants for more, Strangler complying as he unleashes a rapid assault on Taylor’s body! “God damn it! Strangler’s going to kill him with those blows,” Riley screams as Strangler nails Taylor with a continuous chain of blows to the body in the corner, not giving a care as to where they land, just how fast he can nail Erek with them. Taylor remains in the corner, absorbing the hits, but in the middle of the beat down, Strangler changes up his offense, moving from punches to stomps as he begins to pound a mud hole into Erek Taylor’s chest! The crowd goes wild, clamoring for Strangler to tear Erek apart, stomping wildly into his chest for several seconds. As he continues to stomp and his stomps slow down, Strangler suddenly switches strikes, nailing him with one, two, three knees to the face before he presses his knee into Taylor’s throat, choking the life out of him! “Oh, come on, ref,” Riley complains, “He can’t do that! Make him break the choke!” The referee moves to break the hold, but Strangler breaks it before he gets there, saving him the trouble of doing so. Reaching down, Strangler grabs Erek by the head, and pulling him up, throws him like a rag doll out of the corner, slamming Taylor back to the mat as hard as he can. Erek cries out in pain again, but Strangler grabs him by the head, the anger and fury directed at Erek pumping through his veins, causing him to pull Erek to his feet, not satisfied with the beating he has given him so far. Drilling him with a knee to the gut to double him over, Strangle slides Taylor’s head in between his legs, then grabs hold of him around the waist, lifting him onto his shoulders. Strangler holds him there for a brief second, then grabs hold of his tights, lifting him even higher into the air before he slams him down into a powerbomb! “Powerbomb from Strangler!” Comet seems generally pleased with the situation in the ring. “Now young Taylor is learning that a life of crime is not profitable!” Once again, though, Strangler seems displeased, wanting more as the crowd calls out for further violence in their rambunctious cheers. The big man obliges, peeling Erek up off the mat and onto his feet. Strangler then grabs Erek with both hands and lifts him over his head, pressing him up in the air for several seconds as he walks around the ring and shows his feat of to the audience. Then tossing Erek straight up into the air, Strangler steps forward and lets Taylor fall through the air and drop onto the mat! “THUD!” Taylor yells in pain, grabbing his face and his chest after hitting the mat and slowly rolling onto his back, but Strangler causes him to cry again as he drops an elbow into Erek’s chest! “And Strangler is not even considering going for the pin here! The Boston Strangler has not yet stopped the beat down on Erek Taylor,” Comet notes, while Bobby Riley seems to have taken a more serious tone than normal. “Come on, ref! Get him away from Erek! You can’t let him do that!” “And why would that be?”, Comet wonders. Riley suddenly goes quiet after the question is asked, and stays that way, even as Comet continues to inquire. Meanwhile, back in the ring, where the action continues, the crowd cheers loudly as Strangler sits up following the elbow drop, grabbing Taylor around the throat, beginning to choke the life out of Taylor once again! “And now he’s choking him! What a cheater,” Riley moans as the referee commands Strangler to break the choke, which he ignores, stopping the hold a few seconds later on his own. Comet does not think the same as Riley, however. “He is only trying to get justice, even though it is by vigilante means...” “That’s blatant disrespect to authority! Disqualify him, ref,” demands Bobby, irate at Strangler’s “cheap tactics”. Strangler gets up after the choke, pulling Taylor to his feet. Once there, Strangler grabs Taylor by the wrist, whipping him to the ropes, but in a desperation maneuver, Taylor somehow finds the energy to reverse that, whipping Strangler to the ropes instead! The crowd’s cheers grow quieter as Taylor drops to a knee, but rises back up quickly to face Strangler. Charging back at his nemesis, however, Strangler lifts his leg up, nailing Taylor with the sole of his boot as he had wanted to before! “WHAM~!” Taylor drops to the mat in a heap, the crowd cheering loudly for Strangler, roaring with a deafening chant that fills the air. “WE WANT BLOOD!” Clap! Clap! Clap-clap-clap! “WE WANT BLOOD!” Clap! Clap! Clap-clap-clap! “It sounds like the good folk want blood, Robert,” Comet remarks. “No, really, Captain Obvious...” Riley answers back in frustration. Strangler hears the chants loud and clear, and as he looks back into his corner, he sees Tom Flesher standing there, a steel chair hidden behind his body. The champ’s still got it in him, it seems. “Citizen Flesher still can be sneaky, even while on the side of good...” Comet smoothly views. “But it’s just not the same now that he sold out,” Riley replies back with a sigh. Seeing Tom signal him, Strangler moves back to his corner, Tom sliding Strangler the chair behind the referee’s back as he checks on Erek’s condition. Taylor says he’s fine, and while the ref wants to get a closer look, Strangler shoves him out of the way, leaving Erek all to himself. “Somebody stop this madman! He’s nuts,” Riley screams, fearing for Erek Taylor’s safety. Strangler stands, Taylor in front of him as he lifts the chair high over his head... ...but the referee grabs the chair, keeping Strangler from using it! The big man turns around, the referee yanking the chair from Strangler’s hands. Bad call. An enraged Strangler quickly strikes, grabbing the referee around the throat! His eyes light up in fear, but Strangler doesn’t care. Lifting the referee into the air, he launches him back into the corner, the ref’s head slamming into the top of the turnbuckle! The ref collapses to the ground where he stays as the crowd slightly cheers, but pops the second Strangler picks up the chair. He looks around for Erek, not seeing him in the ring. “Where’s Taylor? I don’t see him anywhere,” Riley wonders, but Comet spots him instantly. “There he is! On the floor!” As if Strangler heard Comet’s reply to Riley’s question, he looks down on the floor, and sure enough, there is Erek Taylor, trying to get to his feet. Smiling, Strangler steps between the ropes onto the apron standing above Taylor, the chair high above the head as he leaps off, swinging it down onto Erek’s head with tremendous force! “CRACK!” Taylor screams out in excessive pain as the crowd pops, Strangler lifting the chair up again... “CRACK!” Erek Taylor screams again as the steel chair slams into him, writhing in pain on the floor. Strangler enjoys this, however, and raising the chair up for a third time... “CRACK!” Strangler connects with Erek’s head! The cries of pain from Taylor are soft this time, the writhing slightly less while Strangler once again lifts the chair up... “CRACK!” Smashing Taylor with a four chair shot to a roaring pop from the crazed fans! Security is having a horrible time trying to hold them back, as they keep trying to push closer to the ring. “This is illegal! Strangler should be disqualified!” Riley screeches, angered at Strangler’s actions towards Taylor. The chair now thoroughly dented, Strangler grabs Taylor dragging him over to one of the cars parked near by, and lifting Erek up, drops him down, slamming Taylor’s head into the hood of a light blue 1987 Dodge Caravan! “THUD!” Taylor’s head dents the hood of the car, Strangler grabbing his head as he prepares to slam Taylor into the hood, but instead, he drives him head first into the Caravan’s grill! “This is absolutely insane!”, Riley screams. “Why isn’t the ref doing his job? Why hasn’t Strangler’s reign of terror been stopped?!?!” However, inside the ring, as the ref recovers, he looks up to the timekeeper and gives him the news... “He’s done! Get him out of here!” At that moment, the timekeeper turns and nods to SWF Head of Security, Neilsen of The Jungle. The foul-mouthed former grappler calls out to his team, screaming loudly: “All right, mother fuckers! Let’s go fuckin’ fuck up this fuckin’ fuckface!” In an instant, SWF Security has mobilized, coming down on The Boston Strangler as he once again slams Erek Taylor’s head back into the grill of that light blue ‘87 Caravan. The first man moves in on Strangler, trying to grab him, but... “CRACK!” He goes down quickly, Strangler looking around for more of the polo-shirted security members. However, he doesn’t see a mob of them jump him from behind. The crowd of at least nine, maybe more, security officials quickly subdues Strangler, as although he is powerful, fighting that many men at once is impossible. Gaining a foothold on him, the mob drags Strangler out of the ring, into the crowd, and somewhere away from the action, Strangler trying to fight out of their grasp the entire time, wanting even more revenge on Taylor. The crowd boos loudly as the remaining security members try to keep them under control, Funyon presenting them with the bad news: “THE BOSTON STRANGLER HAS BEEN DISQUALIFIED!” “Sweet merciful crap,” calls out The Cyclone Comet as the struggling Boston Strangler is dragged away by a gaggle of security officers. “TBS has gone bananas and I don’t think Australia will ever be the same!” Bobby Riley quickly adds a rejoinder, “Who cares about this continent of criminal miscreants? Erek Taylor has been busted wide open! That damn hoss tried to make some permanent adjustments to his face!” And indeed a trickle of blood has become a veritable gusher as the crimson mask begins to form around the features of the arrogant competitor. And who better to add to his pain than the World Heavyweight Champion? Plucking Taylor right off the concrete, Tom hurls Erek back into the squared circle before he even has a chance of recovering. Hopping through the ropes immediately Tom Flesher eyes up the stunned Taylor as the bloodied bastard begins to rise up to his feet. But Erek is not able to stand for long before “The Superior One” locks him right up from behind with a tight waist and hurls him overhead with a devastating German release suplex! Crashing into the canvas with his head and shoulders, Taylor folds over his own body for just a moment before flopping over onto his side like a gutted mackerel. Rising up with a smirk, Flesher looks to continue the punishment when his King’s Road is bogged up with a whole hell of a lot of construction. WHAM! Rushing into the ring illegally, The Judge takes Tom’s head nearly off his shoulders with a crushing lariat! Knocked flat on his ass, Flesher raises his head off the canvas an inch and a half before his body settles on the canvas as Hearford sneers down at him with the look of a man ready to kill. But a stay of execution is granted for the popular World Champion as Wildchild bursts through the ropes and knocks the Judge right off his feet with a blistering right hand to the middle of his forehead. Not sitting back in his corner and waiting for an invitation, Michael Craven is next to enter the ring only to be greeted with another closed fist from the Bahamas Bomber that knocks the King of Nightmares down to the canvas. “This is anarchy! This is three-on-two!” calls out The Cyclone Comet as Wildchild goes back and forth from Hearford and Craven and knocks them down time and again with right hands. “This is all the fault of The Boston Strangler!” corrects Bobby Riley. “If he would have not put his hands on the official, the referee could be exercising some control over Wildchild. But with the referee down, the shoeless wonder can break all the rules he wants!” And indeed that seems to be the case as Wildchild springs into the air to take Craven to the canvas with a leaping pinpoint dropkick that sends the former ICTV Champion down to the canvas. Turning immediately as he rises to his other active foe, The Human Hurricane picks up the spare by doing the exact same maneuver to the staggered Judge William Hearford. Getting to his feet again, Wildchild knows that he cannot stop for a moment or he will find himself the victim of a double team and rushes right back at Craven once again. But this time, the smooth Chimera is able to sidestep the attack and with a hand of dreadlocks, send Wildchild flying right over the top rope and to the concrete floor below! Splattering against the ground, The Hardcore Champion struggles to rise up but finds that his body is unwilling to cooperate regardless of the throng of people cheering him on around the ring. Turning away from where he just deposited Wildchild, Craven immediately gets right back on Tom Flesher with a smacking right hand that sends “The Superior One” right back down to the canvas. And while the King of Nightmares can deliver a series of stomps to Flesher, his partners enact a far more nefarious plan of attack. Pulling the staggering Taylor strait up, Judge Hearford leads him out to the floor to further go to work on the stunned Bahamas Bomber. Together both men swarm Wildchild with a number of kicks and punches as the crowd roars for some sort of satisfaction. But none is coming as together Erek and William slam Wildchild’s head right into the hood of a parked 1984 Buick Regal! “Who parked that boat out here?” mentions Bobby Riley as Taylor slides Wildchild further onto the hood of the car that drives like an aircraft carrier as The Judge climbs up after his quarry. “I don’t like the looks of this at all!” calls out The Comet as The Judge pulls The Hardcore Champion up to his feet so both men are standing much higher than they really should be. Popping a boot into the midsection of his enemy, The Judge doubles Wildchild over at the waist and grips him around the body as Taylor takes the opportunity to wave an unfriendly goodbye to the condemned man in the grasp of the hanging judge. Lifting Wildchild up and onto his shoulders with a savage disregard for human life, Hearford makes sure that every fan around the ring, every fan watching at home, and every fan still seated in the arena knows just what is going to happen. And then it does. CRASH! “OH MY THOR!” grimaces The Cyclone Comet as a Wildchild-like shape takes form in the glass windshield of the car. Screaming out in pain immediately from the force of the powerbomb, Wildchild curls into a fetal position as The Judge and Taylor cackle at the success of their cruel gambit. And with bloody lips, The Bahamas Bomber lets the world know that this was not a good thing to happen to any man, much less one with ribs that have suffered through unbelievable punishment. Holding onto the remnants of his own chest and back, Wildchild rolls off the hood of the car and to the concrete as William and Erek almost casually make their way back into the ring to join Michael Craven in his assault on Tom Flesher. Rolling into the ring just as Tom fires a shot back into the ribs of Craven, The Judge and Erek Taylor put out that fire immediately as they set themselves to battering Tom Flesher in a corner as the referee continues to slumber away in the ring. “This is looking exceedingly bad for Tom Flesher right now,” notes The Cyclone Comet. “Not only is Wildchild down on the floor, but I simply can not see him making any more of a difference in this match any longer. Tom Flesher is on his own.” “Good,” answers Bobby Riley. “I’m glad that Flesher is in this predicament. He is the one that turned his back on good men like these three and now he is going to have to pay the price for his betrayal. You don’t just hop over to the light side of the Force without Vader tracking your ass down!” Enjoying their sport, Craven and The Judge continue to batter away at Tom Flesher as The World Champion struggles to rise under the pressure of having so many people battering him at once. One uppercut to the side of the face by Craven is enough to send Flesher back down to the canvas as Erek Taylor leaves his prey for the purposes of getting the referee back up to his feet. After all, his team will not be able to eliminate anyone without a referee to make a call. So as his partners continue their illegal barrage, Erek takes great care to pull the referee up to a corner and shake the official back to a conscious state of awareness. Smiling a bloody smile at his success, Erek calls out to Craven to head back out to the apron as he does the same, leaving Tom in the capable hands of his former lackey in the Magnificent Seven. CHOP! “WHOOOOOOOOO!” CHOP! “WHOOOOOOOOO!” Cutting across Tom’s bow with a pair of slashing chops, The Judge looks out to the Australians around the ring with a sneer. Then William pulls the staggered “Superior One” out of the corner just far enough to send him down to the canvas with a hard right knuckle to the top of the head. Shaking out his own fist from the impact, Hearford points down at the downed World Champion and lets him know that there will be a whole lot more of that coming his way in the near future. Grabbing Tom by the ankle, Hearford drags the World Champion deep into enemy territory where Hearford can make a tag and bring Craven back into the ring with the expressed legal permission of the referee who has gathered his wits about him once again. But still Craven and Hearford have all the time they need to both grab Tom by a leg and pull them out in opposite directions. Feeling his groin muscle pulled in such a way, Flesher says a silent prayer of thanks to his pre-match stretching routine as Craven stomps him again across the face. But as Craven pulls Tom Flesher to his feet just to knock him right back down on the canvas with a measured right hand, Wildchild begins to stir. But for right now that does not seem to be an issue as Michael Craven, long denied in his quest to be considered a member of the elite, rolls Flesher onto his stomach and hooks his leg into the beginning of an Indian death lock. With Flesher’s leg trapped the way he wants it, Michael leans back hard into a bridge and snags Tom around the jaw, completing the sickle hold! Shouting out immediately for the referee to ask Flesher if he wants to submit, Craven cranks away with the sickle lock and pulls Tom into two contrary directions. But regardless of the pressure, Flesher refuses to give into the Chimera and hangs tough in the hold as the Australian principality begins to rally behind the tenacious champion. “TAAMO! TAAMO! TAAMO!” they yell as they clap their hands in the hopes that Flesher will be able to fight his way out of this tough spot. But the crowd is not going to save Tom; he is going to have to do that himself. And with the technique that we have all known to love and respect, Flesher reaches up to his chin and begins to pry loose the hands of the maniacal Michael Craven. Slowly but surely, Flesher forces his way in between the fingers of his opponent and slips them up and over his head just before suddenly reaching up and grabbing Craven’s chin in response! Immediately pulling for all he is worth, Flesher looks to get a flash submission as Michael screams out in the sudden reversal of fortunes. But with his body over that of Flesher’s, The King of Nightmares does not have to stay in that position for long before he manages to force himself loose from the iron grip of the World Heavyweight Champion. Shaking his head as he rises, Craven kicks the rising ‘Superior One’ across the ribs soccer style before dutifully reaching over and tagging Hearford legally back into this contest. And that my friends is the same moment that Wildchild manages to drag his shattered carcass over to his corner and barely pull himself up to a seated position on the apron. The crowd roars its approval, “WILD-CHILD! WILD-CHILD! WILD-CHILD!”

Thank you, God! I didn't even have to ask for a night off and you gave me it. (Y)!

Christ, this just really pisses me off. Do you know how many times I've been told I have what I have because of my race or gender? Do you know how many cold stares I get back when I say hi to someone of a different race on the street? Do you know how many times I've been told "It's okay, you don't need this because you're white and they aren't"? Do you know how many times I've been called a racist for disagreeing with what someone of a different color said, or that maybe I don't see AA as being really fair? Christ, as though you are the only people on Earth who suffer from society. I'm a middle-class white Republican male at college. Do you know how many people have yelled at me claiming that I don't care about anyone but myself, or that I have somehow caused mass pain and suffering to millions upon millions of people? I am the cause of all the world's problems. I am the fucking anti-Christ. Please, tell me what more pain I can cause and it shall be so! Don't want to blame yourself? Blame me! I'm sure to get it anyways... Yes, I'm sure that the cops follow every minority person who enters a suburb. Or maybe not. They wouldn't have enough cops to fucking do it with. I know many cops, and are generally a bit too busy to fucking track down every minority person who drives through a fricken suburb. But maybe I'm wrong on my information here. Could you give me your source on this, like some proof? Morning-star raids. Okay, question: What if the police had a warrant to bust a crackhouse in an apartment building which was set up across multiple rooms. You don't think this could happen? Seriously, as though they are rounding blacks up like Jews or something and sending them to camps. My uncle has been strip-searched before, asshole. It's not just bound by color, it's bound by necessity.

I'm just waiting to see how many people take my comment wrong and brand me as a racist. I can already here them typing...

Question: Could it be because that minorities are only just breaking into the field while whites have been dominant in it for a quite a while, and based on their seniority they are likely to get more bonuses and better pay? Just something to consider there.

Did he re-inact his entire life or something?

I do agree with a few points that Mike makes. I do believe it's no longer white priveledge or racism that is the major force holding back the Black community. They really need to look within themselves and start trying to improve their own culture rather than trying to change others. I honestly think if they started to crack down on the whole "I'm a thug and I live the street life" sub-culture mentality they'd be so much better off and able to improve so much quicker. But that's just me. The Irish have literally been the red-headed bastard children of the UK for a long, long time. They've been pretty much subjegated and oppressed socially far longer than the Africans have been (I'd say about 800 years compared to whenever you think Slavery in Africa really picked up). When the Civil War was being fought it wasn't uncommon to see signs on bar doors that said "No dogs and No Irish". In the 1900s they were a really sizable part of the disadvantaged and abused Northern factory workers. They are white as can be and they've had a fucking tough time being accepted because of their ethinicity. To deny this is just utter idiocy. Chinese as well were often looked at as second-class citizens throughout the 1800's. They were constantly abused as rail-workers and there was a healthy amount of racism and oppression chucked at them as well. They suffered quite a bit as well. But I would like you to tell me how their suffering is that much different than that of the Blacks. I think the crimes against them are at least equal to what has happened to blacks, if not a bit more (Especially with the Irish since it has been going on that much longer...). For low-income areas, I'm calling BS. My mother is a speechpathologist in Detroit (A speech teacher with a Psychology degree) and she has seen black parents pull knives on teachers, attack them, utterly bitch them out and many other things. They've threatened to wait out in the parking lot for them even. And it's not as though these teachers all white: A lot of these are black teachers there, and they'll tell you that it's more the parents not really caring and being adamant about them being right rather than the teachers being rude. While you might think my mom is biased, she's worked there for 20 years and this is what she has always seen there. It's really sad and I'm sure it doesn't apply at all to Middle Class Blacks, but the parents in these inner-city schools are really disrespectful to the teachers and it's often unprovoked. On Colonialism: I wonder, honestly, how badly AIDS would have ravaged Africans had the European Powers never come, thus never putting down the modest framework for most of these countries, which would mean no AIDS medicines or prevention because it would be impossible to distribute these things. All things considered, Colonialism helped them much more than just staying as isolated tribes stuck in the dark ages.

Wow, information that lacks any substance on the issue (Using a filibuster on a Judicial nominee, not the number of nominees getting through). w00t! That's basically comparing one dog turd and a load of hippo crap. Again this isn't a hostile majority Senate vs. the President like Reagan or Clinton. This is a minority Senate curtailing Judicial nominees that actually got through the committee process and that are entitled to a vote. It's inherently different in that respect. This sets a precedent for anyone who is in the minority to do this to any Judicial nominee because they don't like him, even if he has a 59-41 majority vote on his side. This is going to hinder both parties because now they've crossed over to another level of judicial gridlock with the minority party stopping judicial nominees through filibuster. Of course, it doesn't seem to register with you that I don't care as much about the nominees themselves as the precedent that is started with this of "Filibustering is okay if you think the guy doesn't seem to share your views", which is going to make it almost impossible for anyone to nominate a Supreme Court Justice anytime soon because the minority can easily stop them from coming to a vote.

Oh, I know this started with Reagan. No problem there. The thing is, this is taking it to a new level: This isn't an opposing President fighting against the Senate like Reagan or Clinton. Both branches are the same party, and now that the Democrats are filibustering, something that was pretty much taboo when talking about judicial nominees, you are escalating this even further. These people are getting through committees, people are showing up for the votes, they should get a vote, but the minority is blocking this. This can so easily slide down the slippery slope it's not even funny: What defines a "radical" judge? How about Supreme Court Nominees. Do you think either party is going to give up a Supreme Court seat when they can stop it simply with a filibuster? The Dems played the game in the 80's, the Republicans played the game in the 90's, but this is going past this. When the Dems start filibustering nominees that would get passed, they will get the same thing if they get the Presidency and even the Senate. It's a big escalation for this squabble and it's one of the moves the Democrats are going to regret for the rest of their careers.

NAGATA LOCK III!

K, look at this: Republicans prevent votes on 60 Clinton judges. Democrats angry. Democrats prevent votes on 4 Bush judges. Republicans angry. Now, all along I've never said one party was better than the other. Just that currently it's the Republicans who are looking like idiots crying about the injustice of it all. Wait, did all those judge's pass through committee or no? If they didn't pass committee then they likely aren't going to the floor. If they passed committee, I'll agree. But I don't remember that many ever passing committee with him...

First off, this is a dangerous precedent. Argue all you like about "Disputed" or "Radical" judges (I didn't remember Miguel Estrada or whoever he was being too radical, and apparently one was disputed because 'Hey, he's a Catholic!'), but this can easily turn into the minority saying "Well, we don't want this to go through so Filibuster time!" Seriously, Tyler, a 59-41 vote wouldn't be able to stop it, and that's a difference of 18 votes. I can't understand how you can ride the slippery slope like you do so much. Secondly, as stated before, Judicial nominees are much different than regular business. The Senate is supposed to "Advise and Consent", not stop a vote because they don't think they'll win. This shouldn't be a partisan issue, if they got out of committee they should give them a vote and move on to other business. If you get thrown down in a committee, then so be it; Mike is right, that's what they are there for, so you can't bitch about that. I don't approve of walk-outs, but Filibustering is the most dangerous threat in the Senate that can be made: Many times bills won't be brought up just because of the implied threat of one. When one does this to a Judicial nominee, you threaten to impose a gridlock on the Judicial system because if one has even the hint of a leaning towards one side or the other you can just Pot, meet Kettle. Blantant partisanship in nominating 6 judges? Just fucking let them go up or down in a vote and let it be OVER with. The Republicans don't exactly hold a moral highground here, but you certainly don't either. They passed through committee, and through that they deserve a vote on the damn issue. I didn't approve of the walkouts, nor do I approve of threatening a filibuster something that was never intended to be filibustered because you can't somehow convince two or three guys to come over to your side. Of course, this would have happened anyways since the Dems were going to Filibuster if these people came to the floor, but I'm sure it would have been all right then, right? Face it, this is exactly what the Dems wanted, and now they got it. Live with it. Simple Solution? Just vote on it, up or down. Again, even Al fucking Sharpton sides with the Republicans here. Is it REALLY worth threatening to hamper the entire Judicial System into gridlock with your precedent because of 6 Judgeships? Should it matter if one is a Catholic? You STFU. Your minority is making a desperate grab for more power and politicizing a process that shoudn't be. Because hey, what's the problem with making Judicial nominees look political?

To ask, isn't that some sort of Religious Discrimination? I'm not sure, but that really seems to cross the line...

I just think it's kind of funny how the Dems can approve of this. I really didn't approve of the Repubs holding up the Dems back in the day, and the Dems doing it to Reagan in his day as well, but when one filibusters it sets a real dangerous preceden about how powerful Congress's power with Judicial nominees. Again, "Advise and Consent", not "We are just going to bitch because we can't get 3 bi-partisan votes to agree with us". It's really sad, in my honest opinion.

Personally, JMA, I don't think this a victory for strict seperation of Religion and Government like you are taking it. Moreso it is an idiotic judge getting what is coming to him because he took his stuff too far.

See, the thing is that's arguably going beyond on "Advise and Consent". The minority can bitch about them not being good Judge's and all, but to completely stop a vote on them via filibuster is not what was intended. It should be voted up or down. I mean, the Dems can't get 3 fricken votes? Has anyone called John McCain (I know many of you Dems were salivating at the thought of him becoming Pres), Lincoln Chaffee, or Jim Jeffords? I mean, come on!

I think that's a wee bit over-simplistic...

On any network besides MSNBC, that's considered a flop. Although it was funny to see him get canned just when his show seemed to be gaining Big Mo, what with the Iraq conflict looming... well yeah, on any OTHER network, but it still shady to can your highest rated show without much of a reason given. Again, he wasn't an instant draw, which is what they expected of him. Since he didn't put up anything near what they expected him to do (I'm guessing they were banking on his old popularity which didn't really come through) they canned him like that.

Some weight should be considered though in the choices the network itself is making in hiring these figures. While I can't say that every station that carries Rush is staffed by conservatives and can't be trusted, check out what MSNBC has done: Scarborough, Savage, Buchanan getting an hour to chat every weekday. There's some intentional thinking behind these choices. After watching Donahue flop, maybe they want crazy righties because they are actually more entertaining and generally draw ratings? I don't think that actually has to do with political allignment, it just has to do with ratings, man. Of course, if Sharpton open after this election, he'd get 2 hours. Swear to God.

In all honesty, the LHW is only as good as the person holding it. It shouldn't have a perscribed place on the card because of the Restrictions set against it; that's what the US Title is for. I think most of are getting this subliminal message from the WWE that the Cruiserweight title needs to be in the lower card. BS. We've had Light-Heavyweight World Champions before, so if they want the belt they can get it. Maybe they need to get their fire back, or maybe they have something against the champ. But seriously, this need not be a card-position argument.