King Cucaracha

Probably not straight away though. Hence, he'd be taking a paycut to sign.

The cartwheel thing was basically his "I'M FIRED UP~!" spot and it was so cheesy it made me laugh. People doing random cartwheels and front flips during matches to show they're on the comeback is always goofy. Really didn't work with the crowd so dead. Seemed kinda 'indy' to me, I don't know why since I can't think of anyone in particular who did it, at least off the top of my head. Then again, Rocky Maivia had a really goofy babyface fire sequence and he turned out okay. You know, eventually.

So, this ECW Scramble is 2 minutes instead of 20, right?

Keeping him off TV for a whole year and not taking a hit is going to be tough. If he is indeed out that long, maybe they should give him a brief run on color commentary? He didn't too badly last time (HHH/Hardy I think?), he obviously knows his stuff as far as wrestling goes both from being a wrestler and being a fan as a kid, not like he wouldn't be comfortable talking, potentially solves the Cole/Lawler problem they have.

Darren Fletcher, get in there! Who needs strikers?

None of the above. The editing of Jesse Ventura off of matches probably bugs me the most.

But, if you disguise it as an inverted atomic drop and just knee them in the gonads halfway up, nobody'll be any the wiser. I don't watch a whole lot of actual lucha. Like, Mexican stuff. But that's one thing I've come to learn from watching like 2 CMLL matches and 2 or 3 AAA matches.

I remember talk of "the female Rey Mysterio".

The only other guys I could think of in terms of being on the current roster and being around for any length of time are Big Show and Kane. I doubt you'd get a great match selection out of either though. Show at least would have WCW footage to pick from as well I guess.

A live, in-ring 'Money In The Bank Debate', between Krista Isadora Duncan and Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix ahead of the MITB Final. 'The new and improved' Jade Rodez-Duncan's first match, vs. Holly-Wood/Holly Mann/Holly w/e I'll try and throw another couple of matches together too if I can

See, THIS guy gets it! If I can ever convince a certain other to book you all in a Torneo Cibernetico, don't think I won't. Tod, cheers, we'll stick you down for marking IL/Punk.

The SWF presents... A PRELUDE TO GRANDEUR LIVE to DVD from the Littlejohn Coliseum in Clemson, South Carolina, 7pm EST, WEDNESDAY, 3rd SEPTEMBER So, first things first... the show name. Well it's simple really. The 'Grandeur' is of course Genesis IX. And the 'Prelude' is this show, where we basically look forward to the grandeur, being careful to make sure injuries don't blight that grandeur, while giving the people who paid to see the prelude something close to resembling their money's worth. I'm sure the fans won't be complaining about refunds after seeing these six matches though, with two returns (one more surprising than the other), new champions and former champions coming out of Ground Zero all in action, and two big tag team matches, one of which to settle a score many months old. Oh, and there's a special treat for those of you buying the DVD too! Read on to find out more... and I don't know why I say that, because if you've read this far you're unlikely to stop reading here before the important stuff starts. But yeah, read on. GRUDGE Tag Team Match VDN (Va'aiga © and Dace Night) vs. SIN and Tracy Bruner This one is long in the making. Cast your minds back to April, when our new SWF World Champion Va'aiga and SIN first went one on one at Downward Spiral. The war of words sparked up in the build-up to the match, but little did we know then that the hatred between them would only grow and grow, largely thanks to the controversial ending to the match, Va'aiga winning via disqualification after Tracy Bruner's interference. Va'aiga got the same result the next show over Bruner, thanks to SIN, the two bigmen's alliance now firmly established as they laid waste to the Maori Badass. Va'aiga vowed revenge and ever since then the war has raged between the former Tag Team Champions and the violent opposition... just, not in the ring. We've heard more words and threats exchanged, we've seen Dace destroyed backstage, we've seen Va'aiga and SIN spend a night in the slammer after fighting in the streets, unable to wait for official competition. What we haven't seen is that decisive match to finally settle this score. Now, finally, *fingers crossed*, these four massive men will make it to the ring and do battle. And what a battle it promises to be, with No Disqualifications, Anything Goes, There Must Be A Winner! Word Limit: 5500 Rules: No DQs, so no tags neccessary Send To: King Cucaracha Divefire and Taiga Star © vs. "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins and Spyke The Cruiserweight waters have just become a little muddied! The second of three titles to change in the course of two shows, The Cruiserweight Championship is now in Taiga Star's hands. Of course, this does not sit well with Spike Jenkins, the former champion. Nor will it sit well with Taiga's DVS enemies, led chiefly by Spyke. And there's another wildcard to add to the situation in the form of Divefire, who is still owed a shot at the Cruiserweight Title, just not against the man he expected. So with all these conflicts floating around, what better thing to do than pair the four off and see if these tag partners can get along, or if they'll grow to HATE EACH OTHER~! New Champ Taiga teams with potential #1 Contender Divefire, to take on former Champ with possible yet to be explored rematch clause Spike Jenkins and a man who wants a shot at Taiga title or not, Spyke... LOL THEY NAMES IS BOTH SAME! The team tentatively known as Spi/yke (or, What A Difference A Letter Makes) will be hoping to make an impression with Genesis Cruiserweight Title plans yet to be finalised. But so will Divefire. Intrigue! Word Limit: 4500 Rules: Standard Tag Rules. Customary reminder to use tag-ropes here. Send To: Toxxic Hardcore Redemption Insane Luchador vs. X-Punk 2008 has undoubtedly been the year of The Insane Luchador, but his long unbeaten streak and perhaps more importantly his reign as SWF World Champion were both brought to a end at Ground Zero. You could say he went down in a 'blaze of glory', but that'd be a little crass, considering. What you can say is that IL will not be happy and eager for some redemption. Also at Ground Zero, DVS competitor X-Punk put in a most impressive performance, defeating one half of the World Tag Team Champions. With his tag team partner still mired in paperwork problems, now might be the opportunity for the Canadian to break out as a singles competitor. And a victory over the former World Champ would be a hell of a way to break out. But with IL no doubt enraged, could it be a case of wrong place, wrong time? Word Limit: 3750 Rules: Hardcore rules Send To: JST Leo Breslin vs. MANSON One match already set up for Genesis will see The Breslins taking on TKO for the SWF Tag Team Titles. But it could have been oh, so different. Luke Breslin was in line for the big one, the main-event, one on one with the World Champion, but passed on the ultimate opportunity in order to get his hands on the men who attacked him in Jamaica, TKO. One of the four straight wins Luke amassed to be in the position to turn down the World Title match was over MANSON. Now, MANSON gets a shot at the other brother, a tricky test for Leo so close to that Genesis Tag Title match. Word Limit: 3500 Rules: Standard Singles Send To: Toxxic Special OAOAST Presentation AngleSlam 2008- 'SWF Commissioner' Landon Maddix vs. Krista Isadora Duncan Sunday night, August 31st (if we're lucky, we suck at time-keeping there too), SWF Commissioner Landon Maddix competes on OAOAST Pay Per View, but with SWF ramifications. Besides the guaranteed MITB contract for an OAOAST World Title shot (another original idea from the geniuses at the OAOAST!), much more is on the line, thanks to everyone's favourite heir to billions Theodore Moneymaker (yes, I know, "who?", work with me here). Not only $500,000 of his own money to the tournament winner, but for victory over his loathed rival Krista, 15% of his shares in TSM (it's a TV company to us, just play along). Which gets you to thinking. If Landon wins and finds himself shareholder in TSM (the TV company, remember), how long before the SWF finds itself back on the small screen with a new TV deal? Not long at all, which is why Landon has struck a deal with OAOAST management to replay this important match live in the arena and include it on the DVD. But, will Landon triumph and re-change the face of the SWF one year on, or will Krista (you might remember she had a match here once!) play spoiler and crush all our hopes and dreams? Michael Alexander vs. Legs Flamingo Yes, you read it right! The long awaited..... debut of Legs Flamingo! Woah man, get those DVD pre-orders ready right now! Huh? Who? Oh, yeah, Michael Alexander. Let's talk about him then, I guess. The former World Champion's anonymous return at Ground Zero threw up a conundrum for our General Manager, Toxxic. On the one hand, he's not a big fan of the man who ended his fifth title reign. On the other hand, Alexander made some pertinent points during his cryptic conversation after the show. Alexander, as we now know, was the man who promised to 'build a new mound of broken opponents', all in pursuit of regaining the World Title. He also promised to Toxxic that he'd bring some credibility and stability back to the SWF. Small wonder then that Alexander's first opponent back is Landon Maddix's new flamboyant signing. Coincidence? Well, what do you think? This ought to make somebody sit up and take notice. Word Limit: 3000 Rules: Standard Singles Send To: King Cucaracha Dance Dance Dragon vs. Danny Meadows The Dance Dance Dragon hasn't busted a move on SWF soil since Our Super Sweet Sixteen back in July. That's because he's had a busted shoulder, at the hands of Jay Hawke. The Dean Of Professional Wrestling put Triple D on the shelf for daring to be different. But he didn't rid the SWF of him for good. Dragon has been putting extra time in on the dance machines to steel himself for a return. And his time against Jay Hawke will come soon, but not quite yet. For now he can get back onto the dancefloor as he takes on the 'street-wise' (or so he'd have you think) student of Toxxic's Sensational Academy, Danny Meadows, who it's safe to assume has seen nothing like Triple D on the streets of Nottingham before. Word Limit: 3000 Rules: Standard Singles Send To: HAHA! Yeah, right. See below. (send all marked matches, promos, squash matches by King Cucaracha etc to King Cucaracha)

Okay, as you can tell not quite a complete show yet. I'm just waiting on Dace to send me Tod/Divefire, but I'm reliably informed there is something there. Hell In A Cell is in the process of being marked by a very tired yours truly. The rest of the show is up to make it look like we're at least somewhat on time. All in all, not a bad showing, specifically so far from our new DVS friends. Card, hopefully tonight. Stay tuned.

Both matches are no edited in so we've got a (virtually) full show up now. Big news coming off of this show all round, some very good efforts along the way and definately a lot of intrigue building towards Genesis now. Card should be up late tonight or early tommorrow depending. Should be a little lighter of a card, aside from one important match we need to take care of.

"Easy lover She'll get a hold on you believe it Like no other Before you know it you'll be on your knees" The samba-ish sounds of Duran Duran's "Rio" waft through the arena and the entrance doors part for one of the grooviest self-proclaimed cats in all of the OAOAST! Rico de Janeiro swaggers out, stroking his 70s porn stache down as Lucius Soul follows him combing away at his afro. Giving a few creepy looks to the females in the crowd Rico strokes at his equally hairy chest to continue what has been a deeply disturbing HD so far. BUFFER The following contest is set for one fall. Introducing first, representing The Mardi Gras Homewrecking Crew. He is accompanied by his tag team partner, "SWEET" LUCIUS SOUL! Hailing from Rio de Janeiro... weighing in at two hundred, twenty five pounds... he is the undisputed "King Of The Mardi Gras"... RRRRIIIIIICCOOOOOO DDEEEEEEEE JJJJAAAAAAAANNNNEEEEIIIIIIRRRRRRROOOOOOO!!! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" Rico attempts to give away his mardi gras beads draw no offers, except for one... uhm, 'heavy set' Alabama lady who lifts her TripleXL top up for him. COACH SSUUUUU-WEEEEE! SSUUUUU-WEEEEE! COLE Coach, please! Entering the ring, Lucius tries to pysche up his tag team partner who seems to be having trouble getting that mental image out of his head. Under Lucius' encouragement though he gets his focus back. Just in time... "OOOOOOOOIIIIIIII!" The pumping beats of "Fix Up, Look Sharp" by Dizzee Rascal pound through the arena and through the entrance doors swaggers Jamie O'Hara. The Birmingham Bad Boy jaws away at no-one or no-thing in particular as the marches down the aisle, slapping out at a few hands while he gabs away to the camera. BUFFER And the opponent! Hailing from Birmingham, England... he weighs in at one hundred and seventy pounds. This is "THE BIRMINGHAM BAD BOY"... JJJAAAAAAAMMMMMIIIIIIIIEEEEEEE... OOOOOO'HHHHHHAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAA!!! "YYYEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!" COLE All three of these men will be involved in the big Riverwalk Invitational Battle Royal, in 10 days at AngleSlam. A chance here tonight to garner some momentum going into San Antone. COACH Well here's a guy that doesn't really need it. O'Hara won that battle royal last month at The Great Angle Bash, so he's on a roll as far as that goes. And this time, there won't be a match straight afterwards for him to choke in! O'Hara swaggers down the apron encouraging on the chanting crowd, vaulting over the top rope with the greatest of ease. Not impressed, Lucius dusts off Rico's shoulder for him and with a few more words of encouragement he drops to the floor. *DINGDINGDING!* As O'Hara pulls his attentions away from the crowd, Rico walks out of his corner removing his mardi gras beads. But instead of getting them out for safe keeping, he throws them towards O'Hara, taking his eye off the ball momentarily allowing him to get the jump on the Brit! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" COACH There's a smart move! COLE That's about the only use Rico's going to get out of those beads tonight. Or any night I'd imagine. Rico clubs O'Hara down with forearms and stomps away against the ropes until referee Charles Robinson pulls him away. While in Rico's face though, the ref is blind to Lucius Soul reaching into the ring to choke O'Hara from the outside! The Alabama fans scream out but by the time the ref turns around, Lucius is casually combing at his 'fro, "just chillin'". And O'Hara is just coughin', as Rico drops a knee to the ribs. COLE Rico and Lucius will be hoping to use this kind of teamwork in that Riverwalk Invitational, but they won't be the only tag team involved. And it won't be two on one. Dragging O'Hara from the ropes, Rico drops a couple of elbows, stopping on the third to stroke the 'stache... and missing as a result! O'Hara fights back now with forearms shots to the face. Hitting the ropes, O'Hara then takes off with a flying forearm to knock Rico down. Quickly back up, Rico is bounced right back down by a second flying forearm shot. And a third time he goes down! Reeling, Rico then walks into a hurricanrana, O'Hara reaching back and securing a leg... 1... 2... No! O'Hara hits the ropes again... but this time Lucius grabs his ankle! The distraction allows Rico to attack from behind, clubbing O'Hara then folding him up with a high back suplex. COLE We're gonna see a lot of suplexes out of Brock Ausstin I'm sure, making his return to the OAOAST, who's going to stop him in the battle royal? Pulling O'Hara off the mat by his baggy vest top, Rico clubs him across the shoulder blades a couple of times, then sends him off the ropes. Back elbow puts O'Hara down, setting him up for Rico to come off the ropes with the Porno 'Stache Legdrop, holding for a pin... 1... 2... No! Rico stops O'Hara from getting to his feet by standing on the back of his neck, stroking the 'stache again. He then looks for another legdrop, this time feeling tailbone against canvas as O'Hara slides out of the way. A kick to the chest then sets Rico down, for a STANDING CORKSCREW MOONSAULT!! "YYYYYEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" 1... 2... Kickout! Stepping outside, O'Hara heads up top. Referee Robinson is in line of view to prevent Lucius coming to his partner's rescue, watching helplessly as Jamie reaches the top and takes flight with a Missile Dropkick! Cover... 1... 2... No! COLE Jamie O'Hara, so quick, so elusive, which is going to play to his advantage at AngleSlam. COACH Not if he tries stuff like that it won't. COLE Well, there won't be much room to fly, that's for sure. Cuban Wall, Faqu, Jumbo, Deuce, plenty of big hitters looking to be the last man standing in San Antonio. O'Hara tries to load Rico up into a corner, but Rico pulls him into a boot to counter. After another clubbing shot Rico then sends him to the ropes with an irish whip. Confidently the Brazilian loads up a lariat, but telegraphs it, allowing Jamie to latch onto his arm and float right the way back around onto his feet! Caught in shock, Rico swings and misses with another lariat attempt, before getting caught with a spinning back heel kick to the mush the momentum of which sends him spilling out to the arena floor. Lucius runs over to check Rico's okay, which draws him right into the firing line. After drawing the crowd's support, O'Hara latches onto the top rope and springboards, Lucius and Rico looking up in despair as O'Hara comes tumbling down atop them with a 450 PLANCHA!!! "JA - MIE!" "JA - MIE!" "JA - MIE!" "JA - MIE!" COLE Well, he won't be doing THAT in the battle royal! But most effective here tonight! COACH They ain't seen nothing like that in Alabama since... hell, they ain't got nothin' in Alabama! Hobbling slightly, Jamie shakes it off as he rolls Rico back inside. He hangs back on the apron waiting for The King Of The Mardi Gras to recover, before springboarding again... and crashing and burning, as Rico knocks the rope away from the soles of his sneakers, catching him on the way down in a POWERSLAM! COLE WOW! COACH You live by those high-risk moves though, sooner or later you're gonna die by them too. Rico cradles Jamie up... 1... 2... NO! Signalling for the end, Rico drags O'Hara into a standing headscissors. RICO WHO WANTS A MOUSTACHE RIDE!? "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" COACH And sure enough, they boo. No big loss, most of the women in here could [i]give[/i] moustache rides from the looks of things. Gutwrenching O'Hara, the Brit is muscled up over the shoulder by Rico... who loses him midway, allowing O'Hara to pull him down in a sunset flip... 1... 2... NO! Looking for a quick tide-turner, Rico ends up eating a back elbow instead. With Rico dazed J-OH makes for the ropes, running up the turnbuckles... and getting CROTCHED! COACH See there we go again, too many dumb risks! COLE And Rico has O'Hara in a bad spot here and it looks like he's going up as well. Unfamiliar territory for the Brazilian! Leaving his ground game Rico climbs to the second rope behind O'Hara, clubbing him a couple of times before looking to set him up. But Jamie fights back with elbows again. A succession of them, eventually sending Rico tumbling backwards off the top with a thud! Rico lands hard and seeing his chance, O'Hara quickly turns himself around on the top... and gets a DIME STORE HIGH from the top!!! COLE SHOOTING STAR LEGDROP!! Leg hooked... 1... 2... 3!!!! *DINGDINGDING!* BUFFER Your winner of the contest... JJJAAAAMMMMIIIEEEEE OOOO'HHHHAAAARRRRRAAAAAAA!!! "YYYEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!" No time for celebrations for The Birmingham Bad Boy though, as Lucius Soul jumps into the ring and dives into an attack! COLE Hey, come on now! As soon as the match ends, Soul is in with a sneak attack! Lucius stomps away on O'Hara despite the best efforts of referee Charles Robinson. And pretty soon Rico is up and lending his boots to the beatdown as well. The crowd jeer wildly for the show of poor sportsmanship, but are soon on their feet for the arrival of THE CHRIST AIR EXPRESS! MARV and MEL go skidding into the ring and take the right to The MGHWC, firing off right hands on Rico and Lucius respectively! Stereo irish whips are reversed, but stereo baseball slides guide them clear of danger on the rebound and stereo Dropsaults drop them! Rico and Lucius quickly bail to the floor and live to fight another day as the brothers Nerdly check O'Hara is okay. COLE MARV and MEL looking out for Jamie O'Hara here tonight. But it'll be every man for himself at AngleSlam, when they too compete in the Riverwalk Invitational Battle Royal. COACH Let me guess, he's their smoking buddy or something? COLE I believe the technical term is 'brah'. As The CAE help O'Hara to his feet and help him salute the cheers of the crowd, Lucius and Rico march off disgruntled.

Walking through the corridors of the... hey, what arena are we in? Is Alabama big enough to have arenas? Anyway, walking through the corridors of the arena that we're in, Nathaniel Black is still in the process of letting off some steam. Stomping through the hallways he barges past various OAOAST workers and arena staff without a second thought. All of a sudden though, Black comes to a stop. There to his left is the locker room bearing the logo of "The In Crowd". Black looks at the door for a few seconds and thinks over something in his head, before suddenly snapping to life and making for the door... ZACK HEY! ...getting no further than the door handle before Zack Malibu rounds the corner and spots him! ZACK Looking for someone? BLACK Yeh, as it 'appens. ZACK Just a passing visit? Black notices Zack looking past him, possibly for accomplices. BLACK Relax. You reckon I was just gonna step into your locker room and start somethin'? That ain't my style mate. With or without back-up. I just wanted you to know, I ain't through with you yet Malibu. What went down last week didn't settle a bloody thing between you and me. ZACK You're telling me. I know you didn't have anything to do with it, but all the same, I got screwed over last week. BLACK Well, you'll wanna do somethin' about it then. Looks like you and me are gonna be busy at AngleSlam. So, once all that's over an' done with, I want another shot. A fair shot. No Enterprise, no Landon, none of that bollocks. Just you an' me, one on one, find out who the better man is once an' for all. Whether we do it in the ring or we 'ave to do it in the street to make sure no-one else is involved, I don't care. ZACK Well hopefully it won't come to that. This isn't about street-fighting, it's about who the better [i]wrestler[/i] is. And until we prove whether it's you or me, anytime you want another shot... all you've gotta do is say the word. Nodding, Black walks past Zack with a grin. BLACK Next time, there won't be no excuses. Usually that sort of arrogance wouldn't play with Zack. But he admires the confidence with a little scoff under his breath, before shaking his head and entering the In Crowd locker room.

Backstage we go into the locker room of Cucaracha Internacional, a scene of high tension at the moment. James Blonde and Megan Skye, nursing a sore neck from the Eulogy she suffered last week, sit at the back of the room watching pensively at the scene in front of them. In a bad mood, badder than usual, Nathaniel Black paces around in front of Landon, who is sat with his head frustratedly cupped in his hands. BLACK So, somebody care to explain just what in the 'ell went on last week? Or ain't I supposed to be 'in on the plan'? MADDIX Look do we really have to go through this now Nate? I've got a big match to be preparing for, this isn't exactly ideal timing... BLACK Yeah well, it ain't an ideal situation all round, is it? The whole point of me fightin' Malibu again last week was to put this thing to bed, once an' for all. That's the line you fed me before we went an' spoke to Baker. Well, it ain't even close to bedtime yet mate. You know BLOODY WELL that I 'aven't proven a damn thing! That's not how I wanted to beat Malibu! MADDIX I know, I know. It's not how [i]I[/i] wanted you to beat Malibu either. BLACK Then why were you in the ring with a steel chair in the first place, 'ay!? Landon stammers around for an answer, one that won't incriminate himself further. And he comes up blank. BLACK And what the hell are we doin' getting involved with The Enterprise anyway, you know we can't trust them! MADDIX Look, I swear I didn't know that was going to happen, okay. ...I admit, I came out to give you a helping hand... Black gives Landon an incredulous look. BLACK I don't NEED any bleedin' 'elp, how many times do I 'ave to tell you!? I am better than Zack Malibu. MADDIX I know, I know, but I just wanted to be double sure. Listen, I want this thing over as much as you do and as soon as possible, believe me. Not least because you're getting too distracted Nate. All I hear is Zack this, Zack that, "bloody Zack", "soddin' Zack"... you're getting obsessed. And the longer you're obsessed, the more distracted you are with everything else and the less useful you are to Cucaracha Internacional. BLACK I don't... MADDIX ...care about Cucaracha Internacional, I know and that's the problem! You're getting so worked up with getting this win that you're saying to hell with everything else, everybody else. You're going into business for yourself. And I can't let you do that as well, we've already got one off the rails. Which is why I wanted to make certain you got the win you need, that you DESERVE. Hell I know you're better than Zack Malibu! So I came out, as your leader, to make sure. Everything after that was as much a shock to me as it was you. There is, was and will be no deals between us and The Enterprise. Nobody else matters. This right here in this room is the elite force in the OAOAST... at least, it is at the moment. You can't vilify me for caring too much, can you? Scoffing under his breath, Nathaniel shakes his head. BLACK I can give it a bloody good go. MADDIX James, talk to him would you? James Blonde stands up. BLONDE Look, Nate, I... BLACK 'Ush your gums mate. James Blonde sits back down. BLACK Listen, I ain't through with Zack, not by a longshot. And I ain't 'appy about what went down neither. But you don't 'ave to worry about me bein' a team player, alright? Just trust me. This thing with Malibu, quite frankly, it ain't Cucaracha business. Anything that is, count me in. Sighing, Landon leans back in his chair for a second, then takes a look across the room. MADDIX James, remember that Battle Royal at AngleSlam? BLONDE Absolutely! MADDIX Yeah, you're out. Nate, you're in. Realising what this means for his chances of another match with Zack, Black puts his hands on his hips. But he soon calms and nods his head grateful at the opportunity. As he then heads off to cool down, Landon turns over to Megan, comforting the sulking Blonde. MADDIX We're going have to keep a close eye on him.

COLE Welcome back to HeldDOWN~! and... oh lord, what is this!? Groans fill the air as to the ring heads Biff Atlas, taking great care as to avoid any trailing wires or upturned carpeting. Biff lurches his arm away from outstretched hands a couple of times in fear of coming into range of contamination from any germ carriers in the crowd. Not specifically because we're in Alabama, you understand. But you couldn't blame him. Carrying in his hand a clipboard, Biff hand-crawls his way carefully up the ring steps, edging across the ring apron and entering through the bottom and middle ropes. COLE Last week on our sister show OAOAST Syndicated, Biff was carrying around some sort of petition he's drawn up... possibly in crayon... trying to get all fans banned from arenas for being too blood-thirsty and creating danger in the OAOAST. I could sit here all day and come up with reasons why that's completely ludicrous, but I wouldn't know where to begin. Pulling a cleansing wipe from his pocket, Biff cleans the microphone before accepting it from Michael Buffer. COACH First of all, crayons are much safer than pens or pencils. COLE Oh for crying out loud! BIFF Ladies and gentlemen... "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" BIFF Please, please. Ladies and gentlemen, tonight I am here on important business. Life saving business! So, please settle yourselves down, take a long deep breath, settle back into your chairs, because stress is a killer. Sir... sir... please. Biff tries to calm one fan in particular in the front row flipping him the bird. The personal attention given to him just makes him much more eager to [s]show himself up on live TV[/s] flip off Biff though. As Biff is attending to this gentlemen, another fan yells at Biff to "LOOK OUT BEHIND YOU", causing Biff to jerk around in fear of what's awaiting him. COLE Ha-ha! BIFF You see this is exactly the kind of disruptive behaviour I am trying to eradicate before somebody gets hurt around here! You people... *scratches his leg*... ah, darned rash. You people are putting the OAOAST personnel in danger. And I... *scratches again*... I'm sorry, just, give me a second here... As Biff continues scratching, he's forced to stop talking. The crowd grow restless and that naturally unnerves Biff. BIFF No please, please settle down. Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm. Everybody please stay seated, we do not want to risk a stampede situation. Security personnel, if you can hear me, please restore order while I just very quickly apply this ointment... "DIE BIFF, DIE!" "DIE BIFF, DIE!" "DIE BIFF, DIE!" "DIE BIFF, DIE!" BIFF NO! NO, DON'T SAY THAT! Lower your voices, raising your voices increases the risk of throat cancer! Just please... I... *scratches*... I'm sorry, I really need to apply this medication before the infection spreads to my lungs. Could somebody please help me with the application whilst I speak before we have a riot on our hands? Somebody CLEAN! COLE This is absurd. With no volunteers making themselves known, Biff tries to call on Michael Buffer to do the honours with the cream on his upper thigh. But Buffer is still insulted over the implication his microphone was dirty and refuses. Looks to camera-men don't work either and poor Biff is facing an unenviable situation, needing to speak to prevent a riot, but needing to apply his medicated cream also. [COLOR=pink]"IT'S RAININ' MEN! Hallejulah IT'S RAININ' MEN! Amen"[/COLOR] Luckily, help is on his way. COLE Oh no! Out from the back to a much warmer reception skip Los Diablos De Fuego, VERY happy to help Biff out in his time of need! Biff's eyes widen a little as the fruity luchadors rush the ring, Moracca sliding in first, only for Mariachi to pull him back out and insist he's the man for the job. After a brief scrap they both slide in and huddle over to Biff asking for the cream. BIFF You... you two? ...are you clean? Both men nod their heads eagerly. BIFF I don't know, I can't have unauthorized hands touching my skin. You can never be too careful with skincare. Is there anyone else? Moracca looks to sweeten the deal by pulling off his pink glove and LICKING HIS HAND CLEAN, showing the phlegm covered palm to Biff and insists in broken English "IS CLEAN, IS CLEAN!" Going one better, Mariachi pulls a rubber glove from his boot and stretches it on. BIFF I admire your health conscience, but really, I think I'd be best consulting a medical professional. A sterilised medical professional. You two are... well, how can I put this... your lifestyle is very unsafe. "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" COLE What's that supposed to mean? COACH I know what it means! I wanna know why these people are booing, if they're actually disagreeing with Biff then I got Alabama down all wrong pact! BIFF No offence, but I really don't know where you two have been. Moracca and Mariachi try to explain where they've been and you can all fill in the blanks about where they're pointing folks! BIFF Much as I'm in medical need right now, no. Coming into contact with you is a risk I'm just not willing to take. Especially not after what you did to me two weeks ago! Very unsafe. Infact, ever since then I've been feeling the effects of... *eyes widen*... this rash... oh my God! YOU! Biff starts to freak out and tries to run from the ring, but Los Diablos catch him and tackle him to the ground, to huge cheers! Grabbing the rash cream Mariachi starts to prepare for application. Biff fights and squirms to get free and starts having a mini-panic attack, forcing Los Diablos to try and calm him down. And calm him down the best way they know how, as Biff fights to his feet but gets trapped in the Double Bearhug!! COLE HOMIES HUG! Screaming in fear, Biff wails away, "MY RASH, MY RASH!" as Los Diablos place their calming hands all over his body. Luckily for Biff, VINNY VALENTINE hits the ring and breaks the hug up. Free of the luchadors in love, Biff rolls out of the ring and SPRINTS for his very life, covering his BUTT protectively with his hands. Meanwhile, Vinny having hit the ring to make the save is left alone yelling at Biff to come back and help [i]him[/i] out. Help he could have done with, as Los Diablos hook him up and give him a peck on the cheeks, before planting him face-first with the Double Flatliner! COLE Vinny Valentine has just tasted The Kiss Of Death. And I hope somebody backstage knows the kiss of life for Biff Atlas' sake. COACH And these people cheer? Are we really in Alabama!? With Vinny V laid out, Los Diablos perform over his fallen body, not so much disco dancing and dirty dancing as we fade away.

I assume, or assumed, the only reason Crazy had the ECW shirt on in the first place was to show he was on the ECW roster. So, who knows?

Toxxic sighs as he heads back to his makeshift office after the usual chaos accompanying an SWF event. "Times like this make me almost consider alcohol," the Straight-Edger mutters. He shakes his head. "No, no, anything that can make Landon even more of an idiot can't possibly be good." Even though he's wrapped up in that internal struggle, Toxxic does not fail to notice that his door is ajar. "Not again," he groans. He steps up and pushes the door open and begins to speak as he steps into his erstwhile workspace. "Listen, although I do appreciate your NOT breaking down my bloody door again, I am in no mood to talk about...er..." He trails off as he sees the man waiting in his office, surprisingly not sitting in the boss' chair, as is the usual rule for these sort of encounters. Toxxic notices the disturbing smile first. "Hello, Toxxic," the man says, his cold blue eyes belying the pleasant greeting. The smile widens to a familiar cheshire grin, framed by a perfectly trimmed goatee. "I've been watching, and I've noticed that you have a few problems." "When do I not since I took this job?" Toxxic grunts. "Come to gloat?" The visitor laughs, and again the sound has a disheartening sound. "I'm certainly not above gloating, but no, that's not why I'm here. I'm here to offer you a solution." "Oh, do bloody tell," the Straight-Edge Sensation snorts. "You are the one who calls himself a bloody genius." "I think you'll find my kind of solution to your liking." His tone is even, but a slight edge is apparent in his voice. "I'm ready to bring some credibility back to the SWF. Something I think even you would have to admit is not exactly in large supply. Most of the violence people are excited about is happening in the parking lots and backstage areas, not in the ring. The SWF is in serious danger of becoming an exalted backyard wrestling franchise. You have seen it yourself. You've tried to take measures to bring individuals to heel. But it doesn't seem to be working too well." "You've been paying attention, I'll give you that, Sunshine," Toxxic admits grudgingly. "So am I to understand that you're done nursing your many wounds and crying over your lost championship?" The grin falters, revealing a bit of the vicious bastard behind it, but then is forced back into place. "You know, every great man is defined by his failures as much as by his successes. I know that I lost my championship. I lost it in a match that was chosen by my opponent, and by his own admission, he chose the match to stack the deck in his favor. But I'm not making any excuses, Toxxic. He beat me. It galls me to say, but he fought like a man possessed and he proved that on that day, in that environment, he was the better man." "The expression on your face is priceless," Toxxic goads. Toxxic's uninvited guest nods impatiently. "However, look at what he represents. He is the very symbol of what has become wrong with the SWF. All of these unsanctioned assaults, beatdowns, and backstage antics - and all of these ridiculous gimmick matches. How can you make the case for a return to sanity with a champion who is literally an icon for the madness that has infected the SWF? And I won't even discuss this DVS nonsense." "So you want to waltz back in here after a few months off and demand a title match to rescue us? Bollocks! We don't do that on my watch." "I'm not demanding anything. I'm perfectly happy to build a new mound of broken opponents to ascend to the championship; I'd honestly find it very cathartic. The question is, Toxxic, can YOU and the SWF wait for that?" The man rises from the guest chair and walks calmly to the door. "You know how to contact me when you make your decision." He turns to go. Toxxic groans inwardly as he says, "Wait a minute." His guest turns his head back to the Straight-Edger, raising an eyebrow. "Bloody hell," Toxxic growls. "I think we can work something out. But I'm going to need a few things from you to help deal with some problems we've been having." "I thought you might see our common ground," the man says, his cheshire grin returning. "Let's discuss things. Such as who you want to suffer and for how long..."

The SWF presents... GROUND ZERO 2008 LIVE to DVD from the Miami Arena in (where else?) Miami, Florida, 7pm EST, TUESDAY, 19th AUGUST SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP HELL IN A CELL MATCH! The Insane Luchador © vs. Va'aiga The main-event of Ground Zero '08 was bound to be a big one. It's a story of two SWF veterans. For vet number one, The Insane Luchador, 2008 has so far been his year. He has gone unbeaten in singles competition since way back in February. And The Ill One shocked the world back in the month of April, when he finally captured the top prize in the SWF, his many years of toil, pain and hard work finally paying off. Proving it was no fluke, the IL winning streak has continued ever since. But, so far, in non-title competition. On June 30th in Caracas, Venezuela, "The Maori Badass" Va'aiga put himself Next In Line by winning the #1 Contendership. A whole host of situations and complications have prevented him from cashing in on his contendership so far, from his personal issue with S.I.N and Tracy Bruner, to incarceration, to defences of the Tag Team Titles. Now though, there are no distractions. S.I.N and Bruner will not be in Miami. And the Tag Titles are as of last show gone from his and Dace's waists. The only concern on the former World Champion's mind now is reclaiming his place at the top of the SWF food chain. Well... that, and the small matter of these two men's previous meeting, a Flaming Tables Match at From The Fire of this year which IL won. So two of the most dangerous, volatile competitors in SWF history will come together and The Miami Arena will be Ground Zero for IL's V1 defence of the World Title. Revenge and retribution will be on the mind for Va'aiga. For IL, his winning streak, his title reign... and perhaps just as importantly, his survival? **LATE BREAKING NEWS** Just when the stakes couldn't get any higher... well, turns out they got higher. About 20 feet higher. The challenge has been made and and accepted, from challenger to champion. These two sick puppies will now be doing battle inside the most unforgiving structure in wrestling, Hell In A Cell! You thought flaming tables were something, huh? Think again! This is going to be ugly. SWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins © vs. Taiga Star Speaking of Next In Line, Taiga certainly put herself in line for a shot at the Cruiserweight Title on that show, but with no official number one contendership (and distractions of her own from DVS), she's had to wait a while for her title opportunity too. It didn't help that Spike Jenkins apparantly had no idea who she was until a few weeks ago. He never did get that sandwich either. The cocky Cruiserweight Champion might get a real good idea of who Taiga is during this V1 title defence in Miami. And if she's serving up sandwiches for the champ, they're surely gonna be knuckle sammiches~! Yum yum! Divefire vs. Tod James Stuart Divefire remains in pursuit of Spike Jenkins and the Cruiserweight Title, after his match at Our Super Sweet Sixteen ended in an unsatisfying (from his POV) disqualification. It wouldn't hurt his cause to have a few victories under his belt. Step forward Tod James Stuart, who picked up victory in tag team action last time out but wouldn't mind amassing a few singles victories in his own right, if it means a trip to the illustrious pay window. What results is what's sure to be a very competitive match between two popular SWF stars with plenty of credentials. Which is good. What more can I say? MANSON vs Spyke Of all the so-called 'insurgents' of the DVS that have arrived in the SWF just recently, it's fair to say Spyke is the most vocal. On the side of the issue with Taiga Star and the impact the DVS guys have tried to make at her expense, Spyke has picked up two impressive victories and caught the eye of our Commissioner. Which may or may not be a good thing. Heard to remark he wanted "an opponent worth my damn time" next time he was put in a SWF ring after his victory in Jamaica, Landon has given Spyke what he wanted. Except, I don't think anyone in their right mind would WANT to be facing the unpredictable MANSON one on one. Because, I'm sure MANSON will have his own special welcome to the SWF in mind... Miami Mayhem Match! Munich vs Longdogger Pete We're in Miami. Pete is back in the SWF. This had to happen, didn't it? Yes. Munich and LDP had somewhat of a 'misunderstanding' via Benjamin Hardy a little while back, the upshot of which being neither seems too keen to rake over past ground but at the same time have no problems with one another. Apparantly that memo didn't reach our Commissioner. The former X-Force 9 team-mates will do battle in a match that has become a Longdogger speciality; Miami Mayhem. I have it on good authority this is Miami Mayhem VII, as ever a battle on shores of Miami Beach where one man will take an unwanted dip in the deep blue stuff. And if past Miami Mayhems have taught us anything, it's that that sand gets EVERYWHERE! So, be careful. We didn't take advantage of the beaches and open waters in the Carribean, but damnit I'm back now and we're gonna do something that doesn't involve a wrestling ring! KOJI Kitano vs X-Punk Fresh off of regaining the World Tag Team Titles in Jamaica, TKO's KOJI Kitano steps into singles action. His opponent, another DVS representative, X-Punk who may well have a claim to make for tag team gold for Team Canada if he can pull off the victory. Or, does he have something else in mind of a more singles nature? Only time will tell.

Funyon stands outside the ring, mic in hand as the mighty steel structure slowly lowers over the ring area. Holding his microphone to his lips the SWF's ring announcer calls out to the crowd, “The following match is scheduled for ONE fall and is under SWF HELL IN A CELL NO ESCAPE RULES for the SWF HEAVYWEIGHT CHAAAAAAAAAAMPIONSHIP OF THE WOOOOOOOOORLD!” The arena lights dim and smoke fills the entrance gate. The shouts of Savage fill the arena as “Not Many (The Remix)” begins playing across the PA... PITO SUTE AKILANGI! (It's the remix!) It ain't good... It ain't good 'cuz you'll get jumped in my hood! PITO SUTE AKILANGI! (Savage!) It ain't good... It ain't good 'cuz you'll get jumped in my hood! ...and Va'aiga steps out of the entrance area, throwing his famous Boo-Yah punch combination before throwing back the hood of his entrance robe and throwing the Shaka sign to the crowd. Funyon continues, “Introducing first, the challenger, hailing from Rotorua, Aotearoa, weighing in tonight at 350lbs, he is The Maori Badass VAAAAAAAA'AAAAAIIIIIIIIIIGA!” The crowd pops for the announcement of the Maori and Va'aiga nods to his fans as he walks down to ringside and steps through the door of the steel cell. The Maori bounces back and forth on his toes, warming up as he awaits his opposition for the evening. “And his opponent, he is YOUR SWF Heavyweight Champion, hailing from Easton, Pennsylvania, weighing in tonight at 225lbs, YOUR PSYCHOTIC HERO THE INSAAAAAAAAAAANE LUUUUUUUCHADOR!” Red lighting and strobes pierce the darkness of the entrance area and the crowd hushes, waiting for The Ill One to make his entrance. Layne Staley's voice cuts through the atmosphere like a knife. I'm the man in the box, Buried in my shit. Won't you come and save me? Save me. The music builds to a crescendo as the chorus hits BUUUUUUUUUUURN MY EYES! Now you're so damn sure, JEEEEEEEEEEEEESUS CHRIST! Deny your maker And The Insane Luchador comes sprinting out of the entrance gate down to the door of the steel cell. “This is it, King,” introduces Mak Francis, “The world title is up for grabs in one of the SWF's most violent matches!” “It's no DQ once you're inside that cell, Francis,” replies King, “And these are two guys who have no respect for the other guy's physical well being. Scientific wrestling is on the back burner here – it's time for violence.” Not wanting to waste a second, both The Ill One and The Maori Badass rush to the centre of the ring. The Insane Luchador opens the war with a fierce elbow shot to Va'aiga's chin, which causes the Maori to growl menacingly. After a brief pause Va'aiga fires back with an elbow of his own, rocking IL's head back but the determined champ sucks it up and fires a second elbow back of his own. The crowd amuse themselves with a duelling “LETS GO IL!” and “VAH-ING-UH!” chant as Va'aiga fires back again. IL closes the gap and launches an elbow again, Va'aiga grunting and rubbing the side of his face in a kind of dismissive fashion before pulling his arm back and lunching one of his massive jabs at the Luchador, IL dodging to a side and countering by grabbing Va'aiga by the wrist and slinging the Maori into the ropes. IL watches for the Maori rebounding at him and leapfrogs as Va'aiga goes low with a tackle attempt, the Maori sliding forwards before quickly regaining his feet. Va'aiga turns to face IL and both men walk slowly towards each other, Va'aiga hurling abuse in Maori. “The sheer tenacity of The Insane Luchador has always been one of his greatest weapons,” comments Mak. “IL can take one hell of a beating,” replies King, “Which is lucky for him as Va'aiga can certainly hand a beating out.” Leading with the left as usual, Va'aiga launches another left jab at the Ill One's face, however IL is quicker again and counters the blow by clutching hold of the Maori's wrist. The Luchador twists and folds Va'aiga's arm backwards in a hammerlock but Va'aiga powers out, reversing the hold and launching IL to the far ropes. The Ill One bounces off and is forced to slide between the Maori's legs as Va'aiga shapes again for a shoulder block. IL rolls through to regain his footing and using the momentum, springboards off the middle rope and twists his body, spreading out. The flying cross body lands IL flat against Va'aiga's massive barrel chest, and the Maori extends his arms out, barely flinching from the move and catches his cruiserweight foe. Va'aiga shakes his heed in a “Not Today!” fashion and backs off towards the ropes, called as a “MAORI DROP ATTEMPT!” by Mak Francis, IL countering AGAIN however by worming a little free, swinging his legs out and attempting a Mexican Arm Drag, but with the odd angle Va'aiga just shrugs IL off, the Ill One quickly hopping back to his feet. Both men square off again and the crowd pops with a MASSIVE cheer. “Neither man can gain the upper hand it seems, King,” adds Mak Francis. King replies with a smirk, “A more technical wrestler might have tried some flash pins to try and steal this but these guys are just going to have to work out a way to start laying the hurt on.” Looking to force the pace a little IL circles Va'aiga quickly, hoping to get a good angle of attack on his massive Maori opponent. After manoeuvring himself around the side of the Maori, The Ill One lashes in a leg kick making the Maori flinch. A second kick into Va'aiga's huge chest sets up a third to the Maori's shoulder. IL pumps his fist and spins back across the front of the Maori and swings the back of his fist at Va'aiga's head... but the Maori ducks and PLANTS IL down with a vicious back suplex! Va'aiga hops to his feet, throws the Shala sign high and shouts, “BOO-YAH!” The crowd echoes the call. “Oooh... that looked nasty,” comments King, “Insane Luchador's back bounced off the canvas with a vicious snap.” Standing over the downed Luchador, Va'aiga composes his self before falling down to canvas level and headbutting IL in the sternum. The Maori hooks IL's leg and Matthew Kivell drop to count... ON.... and not even a one count. “Far too early for a pinfall,” adds King to his previous statement. “These are two of the toughest guys in the whole federation,” finishes Mak, “Neither has an ounce of quit in them.” Picking Insane Luchador off the canvas as he stands, Va'aiga looses off a pair of forearms to temporarily weaken IL before whipping him into the ropes. Va'aiga crouches to give a little more spring to his next move and as The Ill One comes careering back across the ring Va'aiga pushes his palm up forcibly into IL's chest, flapjacking him dramatically up in the air. Va'aiga allows himself a half smile as IL comes crashing down onto the mat. “Va'aiga unleashing the high impact game,” commentates Mak “It's a case of sticking to what you know,” replies King. Va'aiga looks down on the floored Insane Luchador and decides to press his advantage. The Maori drags IL up to a vertical base. Staring straight at his opponent,Va'aiga closes and plants his forehead straight into the top of The Ill One's. IL staggers backwards and sensing an opportunity Va'aiga lunges forward and takes IL off his feet with the RUGBY TACKLE! Va'aiga lays into Insane Luchador with forearms, IL using his limited MMA training to cover up. Va'aiga holds back sensing his blows are having little effect, but he leaves an opening and IL wriggles round towards an armbar. IL locks his legs around Va'aiga's shoulder, but the Maori powers up to his knees and dislodges Luchador with a short powerbomb. Va'aiga wheels away and as Insane Luchador stands, Va'aiga charges and drives him backwards towards a corner with his shoulder. Again choosing to press home an advantage quickly Va'aiga lifts IL out of the corner, inverts him and SLAMS HIM DOWN WITH AUTHORITY. “Va'aiga is rolling now,” points out Francis “He is a wrestler who is all about momentum. Insane Luchador however isn't,” adds King “Explain?” “He can suck up punishment and he can always surprise you with something out of the blue. Va'aiga generally needs to get you worn down before he can finish you.” As if to prove King's point, Va'aiga drop to cover ONE! T.. and Insane Luchador kicks out as the referee's hand strikes the mat for the two count. Va'aiga returns to a standing position and picks Luchador up with him. Luchador still looks a little stunned and Va'aiga takes the opportunity to fire off one of his trademark left jabs, the crowd spotting where he's going and calling out “ONE!” “Va'aiga is one of the toughest strikers in the world,” comments Mak. Quickly drawing back his left arm Va'aiga fires off a second jab, rocking IL's head back dramatically. Sweat flies from the Luchador's forehead in a dramatic arc as the crowd calls “TWO!” Va'aiga again draws back and jabs out for a third time. “THREE!” shout the crowd before beginning a howl of noise as Va'aiga lifts his right fist to his lips, gives it a kiss for luck and then DROPS IL WITH THE MASSIVE RIGHT HOOK! The Shaka sign is raised, IL is on the mat dazed and the Maori and the crowd shout as one... “BOO-YAH!” “Insane Luchador is one of the hardest me to drop with pure striking, and The Maori Badass just achieved that feat,” muses Francis. “There's one effective counter to Va'aiga's punches. Don't pick a fight with him!” replies King. Possibly worried that Insane Luchador would just kick out rapidly again, Va'aiga grabs IL on the floor in a front facelock and powers up to his feet. The Ill One fires a couple of weak elbows into the Maori's ribcage, but Va'aiga is not to be denied, positioning IL's arm across his massive shoulders before suplexing the cruiserweight up and holding him up inverted, waiting for the blood to rush to IL's head. The crowd cheers for this display of power and begins to count the seconds Luchador is held up! “ONE!” “TWO!” “Look at the power!” yells Mak. “THREE!” “FOUR!” “FIVE!” “Even I have to admit I'm impressed,” remarks King. “SIX!” “SEVEN!” “EIGHT!” “NINE!” “TEN!!!” and Va'aiga sloooowly lets Insane Luchador fall to the mat, completing his suplex. Va'aiga floats over as gracefully as he can (admittedly not very) and Matthew Kivell drops to count again... ONE! TW.. a short two count. Va'aiga grunts his displeasure. “As much as you have to be impressed by Va'aiga's strength, you have to also be impressed by The Insane Luchador's tenacity,” comments Mak. “You don't get to be world champion by accident, Mak,” replies King, “People have called him lucky, but he's one tough cookie and a more than capable wrestler. Plus his capability to improvise is amazing.” With the advantage firmly in his favour, Va'aiga looks for another massive power move to pile the pressure on his smaller opponent. Twisting the Luchador's arm and then untwisting it with a flourish, Va'aiga hurls IL across the ring with an Irish Whip and, positioning himself near the ropes, Va'aiga flicks IL over with a backdrop sending him clean over the ring ropes... AND IL GRABS HOLD OF THE SIDE OF THE CELL TO BREAK HIS FALL! Va'aiga turns slowly and looks to see where IL landed but a look of confusion crosses his face as he can't work out where the Luchador is... The Ill One having scrambled up the cage to get some distance between himself and the massive Maori! “Where on earth is the Insane Luchador going?” wonders King. A question which is rapidly answered as IL finds the right angle to jump, powers himself away from the cage side, lands on the top rope, springs off again, twists in mid air and DRIVES HIS KNEE INTO VA'AIGA'S HEAD WITH ENORMOUS FORCE! “DOUBLE JUMP TWISTING 360 MUAY THAI KNEE THING!” shouts King, parodying Mak's enthusiastic commentary style. “That's a momentum changer,” adds Mak, “Now can The Ill One capitalise?” Insane Luchador, seeing that Va'aiga has been dazed by his dramatic knee strike, closes quickly and lashes in a rapid pair of kicks. Seeing that the Maori is still close to the ropes, IL wraps his arm around Va'aiga's neck and vaults over the ropes, dropping himself to the outside and Va'aiga face first to the edge of the mat with the APRON BULLDOG! IL raises his arms and the crowd CHEERS, but IL has an evil smirk as he grabs the mat at ring side and slings it aside, revealing the concrete floor below! “IL has decided to take this match HARDCORE!” shouts Mak! “It's where he's most comfortable,” adds King. With Va'aiga near the ring apron, it doesn't take IL long to roll the Maori over and stand him up on the apron. IL manoeuvres himself behind the still stunned Maori and locks one of his arms behind Va'aiga's neck in a Half Nelson. The crowd drops to a hushed near silence, fully aware of what IL has planned. Taking a deep breath to compose himself, IL focuses, slides a leg in front of Va'aiga's to make sure he has the leverage and LEAPS OFF THE RING APRON DRIVING VA'AIGA FACE FIRST INTO THE EXPOSED CONCRETE! The crowd noise is quick to build again with a massive “HOLY SHIT!” chant! Va'aiga covers his face as IL composes himself as one of the ringside cameras zooms in on the face of the Maori, revealing a trickle of blood from his forehead. “OK I'm impressed,” comments King. “And you're not an easy man to impress,” replies Mak “That's true. But THAT impressed me.” Reverting to base tactics, Insane Luchador grabs Va'aiga by the cornrows and drags him to the cage before scraping the Maori's face back and forth against the mesh! Blood starts flowing a little more freely from the hard Pacific head of Va'aiga. With Va'aiga kneeling, IL draws back and fires a STIFF kick into the Maori's face, dropping him flat back to the floor. IL looks down over the Maori, places his boot on the wound on Va'aiga's forehead and spins it Eddie Guererro style. The Ill One looks for the ringside camera and lifts his boot up towards it, pointing to it and smiling a twisted smile. “There's something motivating about sensing your own blood,” remarks King, “But there's something SATISFYING about sensing the other guy's.” “That gash on Va'aiga's forehead is a bullseye for Insane Luchador's attacks!” adds Mak. With his arm wrapped around Va'aiga's thick neck IL stands the Maori up and points a the exposed concrete with his free arm. The Ill One leaps into the air and kicks off the side of the cell, spinning round and DRIVING VA'AIGA'S HEAD INTO THE CONCRETE AGAIN WITH A DDT! With a sickening grin the Luchador kneels over the fallen Maori and DIPS HIS FINGER IN VA'AIGA'S BLOOD! IL stares out into the crowd and... DRAWS A MAORI STYLE SPIRAL ON HIS CHEEK IN VA'AIGA'S BLOOD! The Ill One tops this by THROWING THE SHAKA SIGN AND SHOUTING “BOO-YAH!” “Look at the disrespect from The Insane Luchador!” calls Mak “Beautiful, isn't it?” quips The Suicide King. With maybe a chance to end the match, Insane Luchador slings Va'aiga back into the ring and drops to cover. Matthew Kivell is quick again to get into position... ONE! TWO! TH... and Va'aiga kicks out. Frustrated IL slams his fists against the mat before turning back to his massive opponent. “That was a close call for The Maori Badass,” commentates Mak. Insane Luchador surveys the situation and decides to drag Va'aiga back up again (by the cornrows, of course). Snapping off another pair of his signature kicks, IL winds up and uncorks another backfist, this time smacking the Maori clean. Sensing his opponent is a little staggered the Luchador forward rolls into a nasty looking Koppo kick. Va'aiga staggers and wobbles, not quite losing his footing, so IL drops back to another move he was unable to hit earlier in the match, rushing the ropes, spinning and jumping off into a high cross body... and FINALLY Va'aiga drops. IL stays down to cover... ONE! TWO! TH.. and Va'aiga kicks out again. IL stands quickly while Va'aiga stops on the ground, shaking his head and wiping some of the blood from his face. “Insane Luchador has to capitalise on these opportunities,” remarks King, “Any time the Maori is down you have to pounce.” With his eyes focused on his opponent, Insane Luchador waits for Va'aiga to stand before closing rapidly and firing a knee into the gut of the Maori. In the same motion, with Va'aiga's head bowed IL wraps an arm around Va'aiga's neck and drops him with a snap DDT. IL continues the momentum to roll up to a vertical base. The Luchador follows up by leaping into the air, knees high and lands feet first to the back of Va'aiga's head, stomping his face into the mat! IL flips the Maori over and after stopping to admire the blood stain on the canvas, he covers again... ONE! TWO! TH... and Va'aiga kicks out again. Insane Luchador stays on to of Va'aiga in a MMA style mount and RAINS down a series of forearms into Va'aiga's skull. He then points to the sky and begins moving with a purpose to the corner. “This could be it. Insane Luchador is looking to go high risk,” calls Mak. And Mak Francis is right. Insane Luchador climbs up a turnbuckle, facing outwards towards the crowd. The World Champ holds his hands up and twirls his fingers, the crowd cheering wildly for the sign of the Moonsault. Lying on the mat with the taste of his own blood in his mouth and behind the Luchador's back, something stirs in the Maori. Unaware of his opponent breifly, IL makes the leap of faith and dives off towards Va'aiga who just as IL was preparing to take off, STOOD UP! The Ill One is about halfway through his rotation when VA'AIGA CATCHES HIM IN MID-FLIGHT! Va'aiga sits down, forcing IL over and down with THE MAORIBOMB! Both men slump to the canvas, exhausted. Standing in the centre of the ring Matthew Kivell puts on a count. ONE! “THAT WAS AN AMAZING MOVE!” yells Mak. TWO! “LU-CHA-DOR! LU-CHA-DOR!” THREE “It looks like both men are flat out here, Mak.” replies King, reserved as ever. FOUR! “VAH-ING-UH!” FIVE! Insane Luchador rolls over towards Va'aiga, maybe looking for a cover SIX! “LU-CHA-DOR! LU-CHA-DOR!” SEVEN! Va'aiga turns slightly to a side and regains footing on one knee. He looks down at his opponent and spots something he definitely doesn't like. EIGHT! “VAH-ING-UH!” continues the crowd. Insane Luchador gets to one knee as well, facing up to his opponent. Va'aiga stares intently at The Ill One's cheek and you can see the veins on his forehead begin to bulge... NINE! “MAAAAAAATEEEEEEEEEEEEEEH!” Va'aiga screams as he LAUNCHES himself at the Luchador, taking IL off his feet with a truly ENORMOUS Rugby Tackle. From the resulting position Va'aiga insanely rains in blow after blow, left, right, left, right in a vicious flurry. The Maori caps this with three VICIOUS headbutts right to IL's skull. Va'aiga LEAPS to his feet and with the blood flowing from his forehead covering a quantity of his face, lets out a primal roar. The crowd as one are now chanting “VAH-ING-UH!” “Va'aiga is getting really fired up,” observes Mak. “Never piss off your opponent, especially if it's the Maori Badass,” replies King. “I thought you approved of The Luchador's disrespect?” “I never said I didn't. Nor did I say anything about what it's effects would be.” Stalking IL like the predator he is, Va'aiga circles the Insane Luchador as the cruiserweight stands. Va'aiga back off a couple of steps to allow himself space for a run up and slaps his boot to show the crowd what he has planned. Dazed and confused, the Luchador stands and turns towards Va'aiga... who gets up a full head of steam and DAMN NEAR DECAPITATES HIM WITH A YAKUZA KICK! Va'aiga drops and Matthew Kivell counts... ONE! TWO! TH.. and IL kicks out. “Va'aiga can feel victory coming!” shouts Mak. With a face like thunder, Va'aiga grabs IL and hauls him off the canvas. Checking his ring positioning and finding there is plenty of space for what he has in mind next, Va'aiga locks in a back waistlock, the size difference between the two men as evident as it has been in the match. Va'aiga leans back and hoists IL over his head, keeping his arms locked securely around the current world champ's waist. “GERMAN SUPLEX!” yells Mak. Keeping the back waistlock secured tight, Va'aiga regains his footing, dragging IL up with him. The Maori slides his arms up The Ill One's back and relocks them behind IL's neck, trapping him in a Full Nelson. The Maori bends backwards and slingshots IL over his head again, landing the Luchador on his upper back, all the while keeping the Full Nelson locked in tight. “DRAGON SUPLEX!” Va'aiga, keeping the Full Nelson locked tight, drags IL back to his feet for a third time in succession. Looking out into the crowd and taking a second to draw breath, Va'aiga lets the incredible crowd noise build even higher. The Maori then drops half of the Full Nelson, grabs IL's freed arm and draws in across the Luchador's own throat. Va'aiga then pins the choking arm by grabbing it with the hand performing the Half Nelson, puts in a waistlock with his other arm and falls back, dropping The Ill One RIGHT ON HIS GOD DAMN SKULL! IL flops to the mat... “SWISS SUPLEX!” ...and Va'aiga rolls over to cover. ONE! TWO! THR.. And The Champ kicks out again! Va'aiga, kneeling now, screams out, “MOTHERFUCKING DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIE!!!” “There's no doubting it. Va'aiga is one pissed off Maori,” commentates Mak. “Well, duh!” answers King with a snort of derision. Va'aiga, frustrated, hauls Insane Luchador to his feet again and fires away with a rapid series of elbows. Though The Maori's face is a mask of blood, it's clear that not of of the blood on IL's face belongs to his opponent, there is a definite wound opening up on the face of the reigning champion. His opponent still on wobbly legs, Va'aiga looks to add another vicious attack to his recent series. Wrapping his arms around the legs of the Luchador, Va'aiga lifts IL up as if to give him a spinebuster but flicks the cruiserweight out halfway through the move, inverting him and LANDING HIM ON HIS HEAD AGAIN! “SPEAR TACKLE! THAT HAS TO BE IT!” screams Mak. Matthew Kivell is in position again as Va'aiga tries another cover. ONE! TWO! THR.. and IL KICKS OUT AGAIN! The crowd is going apoplectic, with chants for the “LU-CHA-DOR!” beginning to build. Va'aiga rises to his feet and backs off to the far ropes, adjusting his arm tape in that trademarked style. The Ill One slowly, carefully regains his footing and turns again to face the massive Maori. Va'aiga has his opportunity and extends his arm out and rushes IL, firing off the VICIOUS, NASTY, EVIL, LAAAAAAAAAAAAAARIIII... NO! With an important burst of energy The Ill One bails for the floor leaving Va'aiga swinging at thin air. “That was nearly it! The Lariat could have ended it there!” calls Mak “Nearly just doesn't cut it in this industry, Francis,” points out King. Standing against the ropes and seeing his opponent down on the floor, an idea crosses Va'aiga's face. The Luchador fumbles around, looking for something at floor level to help him as Va'aiga charges the opposite ropes. Rebounding back across the ring, Va'aiga grabs hold of the ring ropes and SLINGSHOTS HIMSELF OVER WITH THE FAT MAORI OUTTA CONTROL PLANCHA! IL responds by STEPPING OUT OF THE WAY AND LETTING VA'AIGA CRASH AND BURN ON THE RINGSIDE MATS! “HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!” is the first thought of the crowd. “Ouch!” remarks King. “There really is no other way to put that,” replies Mak. Insane Luchador looks down at the crumpled form of the Maori and decides that he has a little time to spare. Reaching underneath the ring apron, The Ill One fumbles around inside and pulls out a chair. IL shakes his head and throws it into the ring. Another reach around inside for toys. Another chair. Another shake of the head. The second chair is deposited roughly in the ring. The process is repeated again. Chair. Shake. Throw. On his fourth time underneath the ring however, IL finds exactly what he is looking for. Thrusting the object high above his head, this time the Luchador nods in approval and smiles a dark smile. “EXCALIBUR!” hollers Mak. The arena lights glint off the flourescent light tubes that make the blade of Insane Luchador's makeshift sword. The Ill One takes a long hard stare at Va'aiga, returning slowly to a vertical base, and a long deep breath. Finally IL draws back the “sword” and swings, CONNECTING FLUSH WITH THE HEAD OF THE MAORI BADASS! Shards of broken glass fly across the corner of the ring and blood flows a little more freely from Va'aiga's forehead. Insane Luchador screams an impassioned scream and he grabs the Maori around the neck and jabs the broken shards still left attached to the handle into Va'aiga's forehead. IL dips his finger into the blood again and this time chooses merely to chuckle at the depth of viscous crimson liquid he has come into contact with. “Insane Luchador is one sick puppy!” comments Mak. “And that's to his advantage in this most brutal of matches,” adds King. Insane Luchador can taste victory as he looks to the sky. Showing remarkable guts and wiping his own blood from his forehead, he begins to climb the steel cell. Slowly inching his way up the cage, The Ill One climbs and climbs until he is a clear 15 foot up from the ground. Va'aiga has just about got to all fours as Insane Luchador looks over his shoulder down at his opponent on the ground. The crowd show their concern for the Luchador with a massively loud “PLEASE DON'T DIE!” chant. Insane Luchador says something to himself, maybe offering a near silent prayer before LEAPING OFF THE CAGE AND HITTING A PLANCHA ACROSS THE MAORI'S BACK!!! Va'aiga drops again. “AMAZING MOVE!” screams Mak, “HE JUST HIT THAT CROSSBODY FROM WAY UP IN THE AIR!” With a grunt of effort, IL picks Va'aiga's prone form up and slings him roughly into the ring. The Ill One drops and covers... ONE! TWO! THR.. NO! VA'AIGA KICKS OUT! “COME ON!” hollers the Insane One as the crowd calls for the “LU-CHA-DOR!” again. The Ill One kicks a chair into a position he prefers and picks the Maori up again. Another deep breath in as both wrestlers in the match are clearly sucking wind after all the effort put into this match. A right leg kick staggers the Maori. A left leg kick follows quickly, then a right kick to the ribs. Insane Luchador feints a left kick to give him room to hit an elbow and then a SOLID kick to Va'aiga's massive gut bends the Maori forward. A crank on the neck and a couple of elbows to the top of the Maori's spine sets up IL for a moment's pause, and gives the crowd time to observe the rain of blood coming from the Maori's forehead and dripping down onto the chair positioned below. With an evil snap, IL drops down and DDTS VA'AIGA'S HEAD INTO THE CHAIR! “LU-CHA-DOR! LU-CHA-DOR!” The Ill One drops to cover and Matthew Kivell kicks a chair out of the way to drop and count... ONE! TWO! THRE... NO! VA'AIGA KICKS OUT AGAIN! “HOW IN GOD'S NAME DID VA'AIGA KICK OUT OF THAT?” asks Mak loudly. “I doubt anything in this match could be considered to be in God's name!” is King's response. The Ill One picks up Va'aiga by the arm and slings him roughly into a corner. With Va'aiga breathing heavily and looking unlikely to move, IL charges in and blasts the Maori in the face with a shotei. The Ill One then walks across the ring with a purpose and picks up two of the chairs. IL strides back towards the corner and short of the Maori he unfolds the chairs and stands them up facing each other. Arm held high, IL twirls a finger around, every man and woman in the crowd knowing what IL is thinking, “TORNADO DDT...” starts Mak Francis And IL delivers in amazing style, grabbing Va'aiga's head, swinging the Maori round and DRIVING HIS HEAD INTO THE CHAIRS HE HAD SET UP! “...INTO THE CHAIRS!” Reflexively The Ill One covers again... ONE! TWO! THRE.... and AGAIN Va'aiga kicks out! “I really don't know what to say...” starts Mak. “That's unusual,” interrupts King, “How about pointing out the sheer toughness and tenacity of spirit of these two wrestlers?” Meanwhile Insane Luchador has an insane idea. The Ill One hops outside of the ring, knowing he probably has a little time before Va'aiga can stand again. Slowly, deliberately IL begins climbing the cage again, this time reaching the top of the cage. Hand over hand, IL turns and begins hauling himself along the mesh of the cell's top like a child on the monkey bars. Va'aiga is now standing, stumbling around as IL reaches the part of the cell which is above the centre of the ring. Positioning himself carefully, The Ill One lets go and lands on Va'aiga's shoulders, looking to snap him over with a SUPER super huracanrana... BUT WITH A BURST OF ENERGY VA'AIGA TURNS IL'S MOMENTUM AGAINST HIM AND PLANTS HIM WITH A POWERBOMB! Another “HOLY SHIT!” chant rings out, this one louder than ever! “There are few times I concur with a crowd, but damn straight that was impressive,” comments King. Both men grab for a chair while they are down on the floor, Va'aiga standing using his which unfortunately allows IL time to get a swing off and PASTE THE MAORI WITH THE CHAIR! And Va'aiga SCREEEEEEEEEAMS and blindly swings back... IL DODGING AND SMASHING THE MAORI AGAIN! IL slams the chair against the mat and stares at the staggering Maori. This time IL grabs Va'aiga by the arm and shoots him off into the ropes, swinging the chair wildly at Va'aiga's head... BUT THE MAORI DUCKS! Va'aiga's momentum carries him to and off the far ropes as IL turns slowly to face his opponent... AND GETS BLASTED, SMASHED AND CRACKED WITH THE VICIOUS, EVIL, NASTY, TITLE CLAIMING, FACE MAIMING LAAAAAAAARIIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAAAATOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! “THE LARIAT! THE LARIAT! THE LARIAT!” screams Mak at the very top of his lungs. Va'aiga drops and covers, Matthew Kivell scoots into position and counts, the crowd shouting along... ONE! TWO! THRE.... NO! OH MY GOD NO! INSANE LUCHADOR KICKS OUT OF THE LARIAT! “INSANE LUCHADOR KICKED OUT! INSANE LUCHADOR KICKED OUT OF THE LARIAT!” hollers an almost blue faced Mak Francis “There's not many men who can claim to have done that.” adds King. Va'aiga is shockingly quick to stand and rolls out of the ring, face caked in blood, searching for a little something that he knows he had stashed earlier. Searching under the ring Va'aiga finds the source of his quest and holds it up for the crowd to see. “Va'aiga has one of those little yellow bottles he so loves to use,” muses King “LIGHT-ER FLU-ID! CLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPLCLAP! LIGHT-ER FLU-ID! CLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPLCLAP” is the crowd's response. Insane Luchador lies motionless as Va'aiga re-enters the ring. There is a moment's quiet as Va'aiga takes a slow walk over to his opponent, stoops to pick The Ill One up and GETS CAUGHT WITH AN INSIDE CRADLE! Matthew Kivell drops and counts... ONE! TWO! THRE... NO! Va'aiga kicks out! “That could have been it. I'm not sure Va'aiga was expecting that.” comments King. Va'aiga gets up slightly quicker than IL, his eyes filed with blood and rage and headbutts IL five times rapidly in succession, each time flicking a spray of blood through the air. With the Luchador stunned and tired out from the effort of the match is left in the perfect position for Va'aiga to launch himself off the ropes again and hit a second VICIOUS, EVIL, NASTY, THE WORD ABOUT TOWN IS YOU'RE GOING DOWN LAAAAAAAAARIAAAAAAAATOOOOOOOO! Va'aiga doesn't even bother to cover this time and just leaves IL flopping around on the mat limply. The Maori retrieves his bottle and walks towards the corner which is covered in broken shards of light tube. “It is going to take something special to end this match,” commentates Mak, “And it looks like Va'aiga has something special planned.” The crowd drops to an awed hush as Va'aiga begins pouring lighter fluid liberally over the mat in the corner before discarding the bottle. The Maori walks back over to his fallen opponent and lifts IL up across his shoulder blades. Slowly Va'aiga turns, first to each of the corners that aren't prepared to allow the crowd a sight of the predicament IL is in. Finally The Maori Badass turns to the doused and glass filled corner, takes a running start, jumps and DROPS INSANE LUCHADOR BACK FIRST INTO THE SHARDS OF BROKEN GLASS! IL twitches and flinches as pain racks his body, the camera showing all the small holes the glass has made across his back. Va'aiga meanwhile points to the sky. “Oh no,” blurts out Mak. “Oh yes,” King replies. Va'aiga steps slowly, carefully up the turnbuckle. The Maori pauses at the top and fumbles around inside his tights briefly before producing a box of matches. Striking one deliberately, Va'aiga holds the lit match up for all the crowd to see before dropping it somewhere near the Insane Luchador and... PHWOOOOOOOOOOOOMPH! The mat beneath The Ill One is set alight! “OH MY GOD THAT HAS TO HURT!” shouts Mak. The Ill One rolls a little trying to put the fire on him out, but inflicting even more pain on himself with all the broken glass that's lying around. Va'aiga, looking down with his eyes trained on the Luchador, breathes in and composes himself. Time seems to stand still as Va'aiga... JUMPS OFF THE TURNBUCKLE... COMPRESSES HIS BODY... UNCORKS HIMSELF AGAIN IN MID FLIGHT... and LANDS GUT FIRST ON INSANE LUCHADOR, SQUASHING HIM FLAT, DRIVING THE SHARDS OF GLASS INTO HIS BACK AND PINNING HIM AGAINST THE STILL SMOULDERING CANVAS!!!!!! Matthew Kivell drops to count, being extra careful not to get any glass onto his counting arm... ONE!!!! TWO!!!!!! THREE!!!! DINGDINGDING! “Your winner and NEW HEAVYWEIGHT CHAAAAAAAAMPION OF THE WOOOOOOOOOOOORLD, 'The Maori Badass' VAAAAAAAA'AAAAAIIIIIIIIIIGA” shouts Funyon over the ring announcer's mic. Va'aiga stands in the middle of the ring and when the belt is awarded to him hoists it high and allows himself another “BOO-YAH!” “This has been a remarkable night and a remarkable world title match,” says Mak Francis, finally approaching calm after the excitement of the staggering main event, “and after all that's happened tonight, you can only expect more action like this the next time you watch the SWF.” “And don't forget. Genesis is coming up. Order the Pay Per View NOW!” adds King. “For The Suicide King, I'm Mak Francis wishing you all a good night, grapple fans.”

"Welcome back to Ground Zero fans," Mak Francis announces while the camera pans across a packed Miami Arena is beautiful Miami, Florida, "Our next match is for the Cruiser-weight Title and should be quite a match." Mak shuffles some papers in front of him. "Taiga Star won a match way back at Next in Line, giving her this title shot." Suicide King picks up where Mak leaves off. "Hollywood Spike Jenkins shouldn't have much to worry about in this match. I am confident he can show Taiga just how a man is a better title holder than a woman." Funyon stands in the ring, ready to make the announcements. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one-fall, and is being fought under cruiser-weight rules, and is for the SWF Cruiser-weight Title!!" The crowd cheers, anticipating the next match. "The referee for this contest is Brian Warner." Referee Warner waves from his corner and a handful of people actually cheer. "Introducing first, the challenger. Weighing in at one hundred and 'none of your damn business' pounds and hailing from Helltown, Haverhill Massachusetts... TAIGAAA STARRRRR!!" Be a Man starts up and the lights flash. The crowd cheers, and when the purple lasers kick in they pop. Taiga Star makes her way down the ramp, her usual camouflage cut offs replaced by slick pinstriped slacks of a similar shortness. With her she carries a small paper bag. She seems focused even as she slaps the hand of a few fans. When she reaches the ring, she rolls in under the bottom rope then pops up, raising her arms high in the air and silently communicating her determination. She grabs her package (not that one, I mean the paper bag) and retreats to a corner where she begins to stretch idly. "And introducing her opponent, he is the current, reigning, and defending SWF Cruiser-weight Champion... weighing in at two hundred and five pounds and hailing from Long Island, New York... HOLLYWOOOOD SPIKE JENKIIINSSS!!" The lights begin to flicker around the arena as The Agony Scene's "Scapegoat" rumbles through the arena. Abandon, broken and bleeding. A feast for their eyes, a spectacle. A martyr of the forsaken. A scapegoat for their suffering. Red strobe lights begin to flash at the top of the stage as the audience waits for their first glimpse at The New Straight Edge Sensation. Burn Me Alive… GRRRRR BURN ME ALIVE! I FEEL THE HATRED BEHIND THEIR EYES! BURN ME ALIVE! IN EAGER CIRCLES TO WATCH ME DIE! BURN ME! The crowd reacts with a loud negative pop as Hollywood Spike Jenkins steps out from behind the curtain. Jenkins stomps down the entrance ramp, his hoodie hiding his face under a shadow of darkness, all that shows is a cocky grin as he ignores the jeering of the audience. Spike climbs the steps onto the apron, stands on the middle ropes, unzips his sweatshirt and tosses it aside. He mocks the crowd briefly before jumping into the ring and getting in Taiga's face. The referee tries to separate them, to get them into their corners so he can check them for the international objects. Taiga puts her hands up, "Wait, wait!" she says. Returning to her corner, she retrieves the brown paper bag. "I have something for you." Jenkins looks confused for a moment, as does Referee Warner. Taiga reaches into the bag and produces... a sandwich. "A turkey, ham, lettuce, tomato, and a bit of mayo, on rye." Spike looks around and laughs at her. But Taiga is not laughing, looking at him with rejection. He doesn't want a sandwich? He asked for one a few weeks ago. Yes, Taiga is late on her delivery, but what does one expect from a woman lacking domestic skills like Taiga? Sighing and thinking that nothing could really go wrong, he takes the bait... the sandwich. As he reaches for it, Taiga shoves the sandwich in his face! Jenkins laughs, at first, picking slices of meat off his face. The ref is yelling at Taiga about the mess and tries in vain to pick it all up before it gets grounded into the canvas. Spike pulls the ref aside and begins arguing that the sandwich is a foreign object and she should be disqualified. The referee argues back that the bell hasn't been rung yet, so it doesn't count. Jenkins is infuriated, itching to get his hands on Taiga. Referee Warner backs him into his corner though, checking him for foreign objects. He crosses the ring to check Taiga also, then calls for the bell. DING! Taiga and Spike engage in a staredown in the centre of the ring. Taiga stares intently up and Jenkins stares down. They back off a bit, circling around each other, staring and thinking about how to start the match. Spike stops and gets the ref's attention. "You didn't check her boots." Referee Warner claims that he did, but Spike is adamant about it. Warner goes to Taiga, who is shrugging her shoulders. She offers up her large, industrial-sized black boots for inspection once again. As the ref checks, Spike is pointing and demanding of him. He wants him to check the insides of the boots as well. "Referee Brian Warner checked her boots before the bell," Mak Francis says, "He's a good referee and I'm sure he would have caught anything illegal. He is a qualified and experienced at his chosen profession." "I don't blame Spike Jenkins for wanting a complete search though. Have you seen Taiga Star's boots lately?" Suicide King asks, "They're huge and scary and quite possibly could be loaded." The referee has Taiga's boots off, shaking them upside down as she stands there in ridiculous striped toe socks. When Jenkins is satisfied with the search, Taiga puts the boots back on, making quick work of the laces and buckles. Mister Warner asks the wrestlers to start wrestling already. Again, Taiga and Spike circle each other, each silently daring the other to dish out the first move. Which Taiga does, in the form of offering a knuckle lock. "What on Earth is she doing? Jenkins has the obvious height advantage in this contest." King scoffs. "I'm not too sure about the weight advantage however..." Spike can't believe it, looking at Taiga with a cocky smirk. He looks at the crowd even though he cares not what they think. Finally he gives in, locking fingers with her, one hand at a time. After their fingers are locked, Taiga... stomps on Spike's foot! He hops around as Taiga grabs his arm and twists it with a wrist-lock. Spike pats his shoulder then rolls out of it, reversing it into a wrist-lock of his own. Taiga rolls out of it, much in the same way that Spike did, then rolls out between his legs and pops to her feet. Spike just stands there, laughing to himself. Slowly he turns around to face her. This time, it is Spike that offers up the knuckle lock. They lace fingers, one hand after the other... and Taiga stomps on his other foot! As he hops around, she twists his arm into another wrist-lock. Spike jerks his hand out of her grip and gets in her face. "I don't think Hollywood liked getting huniliated... twice at that." Mak says. "Well... would you?" King retorts. Spike sneers and shoves her hard. Taiga stumbles back some, looks up, and grins. Jenkins charges at her with a collar and elbow tie-up. Taiga pushes back against him for all it's worth, but she is giving up almost a foot in height, and Jenkins easily has her backed into the corner. Referee Warren counts... One Two Three... Spike seems to be considering backing away cleanly. Four... But he instead slaps her across the face. Not hard or even stinging, more of a gesture of disrespect to his opponent. The referee backs him away as the crowd boos. Taiga smirks, cracks her neck, rubs her cheek a little, glares across the ring in amusement at Mister Jenkins. She goes for him with a collar and elbow of her own... when she quickly runs around behind him for a waist-lock. Spike tries to elbow his way out of it... ...And Taiga picks him up and takes him down, flat onto the mat face first!! She sits on his back and slaps the back of his head in the same humiliating way that she was slapped in the face, then tries to lock in some sort of chin-lock. Spike gets away easily and Taiga is up on her feet quickly. Taiga charges for Jenkins... but he backs away and gets himself into the ropes, forcing the ref to back her up. Taiga paces in the middle of the ring, looking anxious and ready to go. Jenkins takes his time getting back into the ring, stretching out his arms and fixing his hair. When he steps into the ring, Taiga offers up another knuckle lock. Spike shakes his head no, there's no way he is falling for that again! And as he's saying this... Taiga stomps on his foot! Jenkins lunges at her but she grabs him in a headlock. As she cranks away, Jenkins shoves at her and eventually pushes her off the ropes. She bounces off and ducks under Spike's clothesline. She runs off the opposite ropes and ducks another clothesline. On the third pass, Jenkins stops her short with a solid shoulder tackle! Taiga stumbles back but manages not to loose her footing. Spike grins and slaps his shoulder, daring her to run off the ropes and try it again. Taiga thinks about it for a second. The she gets up a head of steam... turns to run off the ropes... ...And turns around to grab another head-lock! She cranks away until Jenkins picks her up. Taiga doesn't let go, and manages a headlock take-down! Spike kicks his legs, swings them back and forth, but Taiga holds firm. He swings one leg up and manages to get it around her head, getting her off the headlock with a leg-lock. Taiga allows this for about three seconds before rolling herself backward, making Spike open his legs just enough for her to slip out. Which she does. Taiga pops to her feet at the same time Spike does a kip-up. They have another staredown and the crowd pops!!!! Mak Francis pops along with them. "These two can't seem to get the upper hand on each other!" King turns to his broadcast colleague. "Hollywood Spike Jenkins seems to be getting a little sick of Taiga Star and her one-uppmen-ship. I would be too, having a girl getting the best of me like that." "It also seems like Taiga is getting a little sick of not being taken seriously. She has proved on several occasions that she is a worthy, even vicious opponent." The competitors get into an intense staredown. Taiga is seen mouthing something to Spike, so low that no one will ever know what was said. She smirks widely and mockingly. Spike smirks back, before slapping her outright across the face! "How disrespectful!" Mak exclaims. Taiga just stands there, barely selling the stinging strike. She rears back with a fist... ...And hooks her arm around his neck, taking him with another side headlock take-down!! Jenkins gets out of it, again, by swinging his leg up and trapping her head in a leg-lock. Taiga, again, gets out of it by rolling backward. And again, they both get to their feet in their respective manners! The crowd pops again!! They don't waste any time getting face to face again, where Taiga is met with another stiff slap to the face!! "Just like a woman to come back to get slapped." "KING!" Mak shouts. Taiga gets in... that's right... a side headlock take-down. "Where have I seen this before?" asks King. Jenkins is sick of the bullshit and just throws Taiga off himself on one quick burst. They both scramble to their feet and before she can blink, Spike slaps her again!! Taiga stops dead in her tracks, smiling and pointing to herself. "You're gonna have to hit me harder than that." "OOOOOOOOHH!!!" goes the crowd. Spike laughs and plows her with a forearm. "Come on!" She gets forearmed again. "Hit me harder bitch!" Jenkins wails away at her, three forearms followed with an uppercut!! Taiga practically growls, throwing her fists to the canvass before attacking Spike with a flurry of chops! And punches! Alternating! Chop! Punch! Chop! Punch! Chop! Punch! She has Jenkins backed into the ropes by this time, and she leans into him, pushing him over the top rope and wrapping his arms around it. This leaves him open for some serious chops, which Taiga seems more than happy to deliver to him, leaving little lefty hand-prints in his chest. Jenkins returns the favor by laying in some brutal chops of his own WOOOOOO! Strong enough to send her back WOOOOOOO! Taiga then lands in some even harder chops!! She shoves him into the corner then shoulder tackles him a few times in the midsection!! Then Taiga gets one good chop in before getting her eyes raked! "Now, that was just uncalled for!" Mak shouts. "To be fair, she did call him a bitch." Referee Warner scolds Hollywood Jenkins for the move, reminding him that it is an illegal maneuver. Taiga is holding her eyes with one hand and groping about with her other. Spike takes the chance to kick her in the head with a simple kick, taking her down to her knees. Then he gets in a vicious combination of two kicks to the chest, followed by a kick to the face!! The crowd actually boos a little at Jenkins getting the upper hand by devious means. He goes for a lackadaisical cover... ONE! TWO!! Taiga easily kicks out. Jenkins picks her up by the arm and lays in two palm strikes, followed by a brutal back-fist!! "The Shotei combo!!" Mak exclaims. Jenkins then picks her up overhead and deposits her with a back body drop. He hooks a leg... ONE! TWO!! Taiga gets the shoulder up. Spike pulls her up and whips her hard into the corner, following her in with a forearm, then bulldogging her out of the corner, right onto her face! Jenkins is on top of her, grinding his forearm into her face, drawing the ire of the referee. As Mister Warner counts, Taiga manages to shove Jenkins. Hard. With her palm to the side of his head. This gets Spike up and away from her. Now that Spike is up, he stomps on Taiga's face and torso! He pulls her up by the hair and insultingly slaps her again before whipping her into the corner, where she lands hard. She turns around into a brutal Yakuza kick!! And if that kick didn't take her face off, the series of boot scrapes in the corner do. After several passes of his boot, he still deems that Taiga's face has not been washed enough... so he runs across the ring and lands a double-foot face-wash, sliding out of the ring between the ropes as he completely removes Taiga's face!!! Now that Jenkins is outside, he goes to work on pulling Taiga's arms back, trying to wrap them around the ring post in the opposite direction of which they bend. Taiga screams out, kicking her feet in protest. Referee Warner hops out of the ring and demands that Spike releases the hold. One Two Three Four... Spike finally lets go. Taiga's arms fly back into the ring, and she crosses them across her chest, babying them. She attempts to roll out of the corner but Jenkins grabs a hold of one of her feet. Taiga tries to kick away but Spike holds firm and yanks, pulling her completely out of the ring. She lands unceremoniously in a heap on the floor. Brian Warner slides back into the ring and starts the count. ONE! Jenkins stands proudly with his arms raised, smiling at his accomplishments as he soaks up the crowd's jeering. Taiga is to her knees, crawling, reaching up to the apron. TWO! Jenkins waits, stalking her like prey, watching as she stumbles up. Spike makes his move, grabbing her by the back of the head and slamming her face off the apron!! THREE! Taiga stumbles right into Spike's waiting arms. He hoists her up with one arm around her neck, and the other arm up between her legs. He walks casually over to the ring post... where he rams her exposed back into it!! FOUR! Taiga screams out, trying to fight out of it but not having much success. Jenkins laughs out loud as a kid in the front row screams an insult about Hollywood Jenkins' manliness. FIVE! Jenkins backs up... and rams her into the steel edge one more time before dropping her! Jenkins just stands there a moment, watching her writhe on the floor, trying to ride out the waves of pain. SIX! Spike spies an empty chair near the time keeper's table. Grabbing it, he sets it up in the corner and casually makes his way back to his opponent. SEVEN! Taiga is pulled up by her hair and lead to the chair, where she seems almost relieved to sit down. It doesn't last though as she receives several stiff kicks to the chest! EIGHT! As Taiga sits on the chair in a daze, Jenkins backs up to the other corner. The crowd roars, knowing what is coming. Spike runs toward Taiga and lands one of the most brutal kicks heard in months, not only taking Taiga's head clear off but sending her flying into the barricade, where she leaves a slight dent!!! NINE!! The crowd is crazy. "HOLL-LY-WOOD! HOLL-LY-WOOD! HOLL-LY-WOOD!" is heard echoing through the Miami Arena. TEN! Jenkins slides back into the ring, taking his sweet time with the process. ELEVEN! Taiga is barely stirring, her head down on the floor and her legs still on the chair. She reaches to grab her head and notices fresh blood pouring from her forehead. TWELVE! Reaching for her head, Taiga picks it up and reattaches it to her body. She didn't feel the throbbing headache until then. THIRTEEN! The crowd starts The Clap, slowly building up speed, stirring Taiga to grab the barricade to pull herself up... FOURTEEN! ...But she stumbles once again. Jenkins paces in the ring, yelling at the ref to count faster. Taiga uses the chair to get to her knees. FIFTEEN! The crowd cheers her on, exasperating Spike, who paces faster, yelling at the crowd to shut up. SIXTEEN! Taiga screams, a feral sound, and forces herself to her feet. The crowd pops! Spike is amazed! SEVENTEEN! Taiga stumbles over to the apron, using it to lean on for a moment. Spike begins to charge at her, but the ref stops him. Taiga rolls slowly into the ring. Jenkins gives her .38 seconds before getting right on her, pulling her up and locking in a half nelson. He shakes her in it, making her flail about like a rag doll. The he picks her up and brings her down across his knees!! "What a half nelson back-breaker there! Taiga Star's back has taken a lot of punishment in the last few minutes of this match." Mak says. Jenkins picks her up again, jumps up, and drives his knees into her front-side with a gutbuster!! Spike hooks a leg... ONE! TWO!! THR.... Taiga gets the shoulder up!!! Spike questions the ref in disbelief. Taiga barely gets to her knees before Jenkins runs in with a vicious Dangerous Wizard to the back of her head!! He covers her again, hooking both legs... ONE! TWO!! THR... NO! Taiga just barely kicks out. Spike is furious, but waits for Taiga to get to her knees. He stands in front of her, crotch to her face, slightly mocking the position that they are in. He grabs her by the hair for a moment, smiling evilly before kicking her in the chest. Jenkins backs away and goes for another Dangerous Wizard, but Taiga catches his foot before it connects. She kicks him hard! Twice! In the inner thigh region! Then she takes him down with a dragon screw leg whip! Both competitors lay on the mat as the cheers fill the arena! "I don't know if Taiga can take advantage here. She needs to get on him if she wants to win this match!" King says. Taiga can't take advantage, still laying around on the mat, bleeding and sore. Spike is also rolling around on the mat, but he gets to his feet first. He wanders over to her, picks her up, and forearms her hard. Taiga rears back and delivers a forearm of her own! They trade forearms for a few moments before Spike rears around for a spinning backfist... which Taiga ducks! But she doesn't duck the second one, which catches her by surprise, slapping the taste out of her mouth! Before she falls to the mat, Spike grabs her midsection and throws her over with a release suplex! Then he picks her up and drops her on her head with a brain-buster!!! He rolls her into a pin... ONE! TWO!! TH... Taiga kicks out! Before Taiga has a chance to get up, and without arguing with the ref, Jenkins goes to work on Taiga. He picks her up and brings her across his knee with a back-breaker! Then he shifts and brings her chest first across his knee! Then he picks her up, tells her to stay down already, and sets up for The Fall of Rome, grabbing her head with a front face-lock, turning it into a swinging neck-breaker!! If that wasn't enough, Spike floats over and locks in... The Silver Lining!! Taiga screams and tries to break free, but she is locked in tightly. Blood trickles down her face and into her mouth, staining her gritted teeth. "Look at how he's trying to bend her back with that move, King. He's been focused on that back, softening it up for any one of his signature maneuvers." King is watching the action in interest. "And with the way she is being choked like that, I don't see her hanging on much longer." Taiga screams out some strangled syllables, kicking her legs and using her free arm to strike at his tightly locked arm. But she is obviously showing the effects of the hold. Her movement slows as Jenkins cranks away at the hold. He yells at her to give up. The referee, who has been asking Taiga if she wants to give up, notices that she has started to become unresponsive. Spike yells at him to check her arm. The ref asks Taiga if she is okay and waves his hand in front of her face, making Spike yell. "Check her arm!!" Referee Warner raises her arm and carefully lets go. It hits the mat. ONE! He again raises her arm, holding it up firmly, just to watch it fall again upon release. TWO! Third time, he holds Taiga's arm up. It falls... to the mat... nearly touching it... but the hand stops! Taiga shakes her fist, still in the contest!! Jenkins screams at her to give up for her health! But Taiga, stubborn as always, continues to wiggle and squirm herself toward the ropes. She reaches out with her free hand... too far, much too far. Spike takes the cue to pull her further into the middle of the ring!! Spike moving her like that inadvertently turns her legs so they are close to the ropes. Taiga kicks... and kicks... and wiggles... and makes it just enough for her toes to touch the bottom rope! The ref counts the rope break. One Two Three Four ....Spike reluctantly lets go, as Taiga pulls herself closer to the rope, clinging to it for dear life, trying to wipe some of the blood from her eyes in the process. Jenkins shoves the ref out of the way and goes to kick Taiga out of the ring with a baseball slide... Which Taiga completely misses by pulling herself around, under the ropes, and to the left!! Jenkins rolls on the floor and gets to his feet quickly. Taiga manages to get herself up, and attempts a baseball slide of her own, to connect with Spike's head on the outside. At the last second though he moves out of the way... and Taiga catches the movement in time to change her momentum, clinging to the bottom rope and rolling herself back under it. She rolls to her feet, and as soon as Spike rolls back into the ring, she lays the boots in on him!! "This is the first offense Miss Star has seen in several long minutes!" Mak says. Taiga continues raining the boots down on him, even as Jenkins tries to crawl out of the way. He seeks solace in the corner, but Taiga is relentless. She continues kicking away even as Spike gets himself standing in the corner. Then she lifts her leg and chokes him out with her boot. The referee counts One Two Three Four Fiv... Taiga finally releases before she is disqualified. She snapmares him out of the corner and dishes out a stiff dragon kick to his back! Which Spike is not amused with and shows it by getting up and facing her. Taiga strikes first, landing an uppercut. Jenkins returns with a forearm. Taiga follows up with a forearm of her own, then Jenkins fores off an uppercut of his own. Taiga with a brutal slap to the face. Spike with another uppercut, after that Taiga lands in another straight up slap across his face, this time in the opposite direction. Jenkins grabs two handfuls of her hair and delivers the strongest head-BUTT he can muster. This makes Taiga stop, shoot her head up, and grin widely. He tries another head-BUTT, and Taiga doesn't move. Jenkins realizes too late that head-butts are ineffective on the woman... and he gets several vicious head-butts in return... each louder than the last... the sound of skull on skull echo through the place!!! Blood is now smeared over his head, transfered from Taiga's wound. Getting behind Jenkins and hooking the arms, she drops him with a full nelson suplex! Spike rolls to his feet, grabs Taiga, and drops her with a back body drop! Taiga rolls to her feet, grabs her opponent, and drops him with a Samoan drop!! Which Spike rolls to his feet after!! Spike roars and it echos around the arena, making the formerly buzzing crowd hush is amazement and fear. Even Taiga stops in her tracks for a moment, before lunging for him and grabbing him around the waist. Spike fights it and reverses and tries to lift Taiga. But she falls to a knee, stopping him. While she is down there, he tucks her head between his legs and starts to go for a pedigree... Taiga kicks out, but Spike still has her arms hooked. Taiga attempts to pick him up to drop him back, but Spike fights it. Eventually they separate and Taiga runs at him, trying to get some sort of neck-breaker on her opponent. Jenkins reverses. And grabs her in a swinging front face STO, landing her face first into the mat!! "The Shotgun Message!!" King exclaims. "That's his finisher, so there's no way Taiga is going to kick out!" "I don't know, King, she might be able to if Spike Jenkins doesn't cover her quickly!" Which he is not, rolling about on the mat, selling the brief onslaught of head-butts and strikes. He crawls a bit, then rolls over to Taiga, hooking her legs and flipping back into a jackknife pin... ONE!...... TWO!!!....... Suddenly everything seems to be in slow motion. The crowd, the match, the referee's hand coming down to the mat seems suspended in time. His hand comes closer... and closer... ready to make it to the three count... and right at the last possible second... "TAIGA KICKS OUT! TAIGA KICKS OUT!" Mak screams and would have jumped from his chair!! King does, however, jump up instead, uncharacteristic of the heel commentator. "I can't believe she kicked out of that! With all the punishment she's taken in this match, she still has some gas left in the tank!" Jenkins pulls his hair and yells out. He storms up and chases the ref, who backs away. Spike has the ref in the corner, yelling at him for not counting to three and announcing him the winner. The ref argues back that it was not his count that was wrong, it was that Taiga got her shoulder up before three. While the argument commences, Taiga manages to pull herself to her feet. She wipes some more blood out of her eyes with her shirt, leaving it streaked over more of her face than before. She sneaks up behind Spike, who is still berating the ref in the corner. She taps him on the shoulder. When Jenkins turns around, he is met with another vicious, thudding head-BUTT! Taiga then swings him into the ropes, attempting to take him down with the big boot on his rebound. But Spike actually ducks this, runs off the opposite side... runs back to Taiga... ...She steps aside, tripping him down to the mat!! He lands face first, and a trickle of blood comes from his nose. He reaches up to inspect his injured proboscis and Taiga stomps on the back of his head, sending his face into the mat once more!! She then gets to work on his legs and quickly has them both grape vined around one of her legs. Without wasting any time, she has his arms pulled back... her leg lifted... and soon his face meets the mat with a brutal curb stomp!! The crowd cheers and yells! "ONE MORE TIME! ONE MORE TIME! ONE MORE TIME!" The crowd shouts in unison. Taiga obliges their pleas, pulls back on his arms one more time... then again stomps the back of his head with an insane CURB STOMP!!! She falls to the mat, releasing his legs. She rolls him into a crucifix pin... ONE!! TWO!!! ...THRE....EEE....NOOOO!!! Spike kicks out!!! His nose is now dripping blood at a much faster pace than before. Both wrestlers roll around on the mat, bleeding and trying to get up. The referee starts to count them both down. Slowly they both move. The crowd is cheering, clapping, and stomping along in a beat that fills the arena with energy, stirring the competitors up to their hands and knees. Jenkins and Taiga crawl to each other and meet in the centre of the ring. Remaining on their knees, they once again find themselves staring each other down... though on their knees, they are of a more even height. Taiga puts her hands up and makes a gesture, inviting Jenkins to bring the first strike. Spike has no problems with this, landing an elbow to her head. Taiga replies with an elbow of her own. Spike drills her with a forearm, Taiga does the same to him. Spike with an uppercut.... Taiga with an uppercut. Jenkins snarls and lands three powerful uppercuts in! a! row!!! Taiga is reeling, out on her knees. Spike rears back with a fist, preparing to striker her again... but Taiga grabs his fist before it connects to her face! She screams out, twisting his hand around in a painful way. This distracts him just enough for her to land in one of her favourite strikes... ...A head-BUTT to Jenkins! And another! One more, a little mis-aimed, landing on his face more than his head. This doesn't bother her however, as it just damages his face further. She begins to get to her feet, peppering Jenkins with head-butts the entire time!! She pulls up on Spike by the hair and whips him into the corner, where he lands hard. She runs in with a Yakuza... just to have get his leg up at the same time! By virtue of having longer legs, his boot connects with her face first!! ...But Taiga turns around, seemingly out on her feet... runs into the corner again... and finally gets her Yakuza in!! She collapses on the equally as lifeless body of Jenkins, taking a moment to breathe. Taiga gets moving before Jenkins though, and uses this to her advantage as she tucks his head under her arm... backs out of the corner... and goes for a... ...Whatever she goes for is being fought off with determination by Jenkins. They struggle for more than a few moments, Taiga never releasing his head, and Spike trying with all his might to push her off. Taiga wins out however, and plants Spike on his head with an Implant DDT!! Spike rolls to his feet, but is obviously on dream street. Taiga grabs the back of his head and tucks it between her legs. In an echo of a similar situation they were in earlier in the match, they fight for the position. Taiga tries to pick him up for a power-bomb, but Spike gets to a knee, stopping her. With one great shout, Taiga actually manages to get Spike up on her shoulders and it ready to slam him to the mat... but Spike punches her head several times. He leans back, tries desperately to get in some sort of head scissors. Taiga doesn't allow this, and drops him awkwardly on his head. From there she wastes no time picking him up again... and instead of a power-bomb, she drops him on his head instead with a classic PILEDRIVER!!! "We've seen her use this move before, King, it's her favourtie way to set up for her finisher." Even though she is stumbling, blinded by blood and fueled by rage, she makes her way to the corner and scales the turnbuckle. Once on the top she seems woozy, almost unable to keep her balance. She doesn't care, and throws her body anyway, jumping off the top and landing on the chest and stomach of Spike Jenkins with her top rope DOUBLE STOMP!! Taiga rolls him up in a complicated pinning combination... ONE!!! "That's it, that was her finisher!" Mak squawks. TWO!!! "Kick out, Spike, kick out!!" King urges. ...THREE!!!! Referee Warner calls for the bell! DING DING DING!!! Before Funyon can make the announcement, the crowd erupts with screaming and cheering for the BRAND NEW CRUISER-WEIGHT CHAMPION!! Though taiga isn't looking like much of a champion, layed out on the mat in a bloody heap... which is exactly how Jenkins is layed out. "Ladies and Gentlemen.... the winner of your match... and your NEW SWF CRUISER-WEIGHT CHAMPION... TAIGAAAA STARRRRR!!!" Funyon seems pleased to be making the announcement as Be a Man reprises. As soon as it is heard over the loudspeakers that he had not retained the title, Jenkins scrambles to his feet in a rage. He stumbles over to where Taiga is still layed out and starts to take the boots to her, stomping away like a madman. The referee tries to stop him, but Spike shoves him away. He goes back to stomping, and Taiga grabs his foot, taking him down to the mat, where he slams his face into it again. At once they are brawling, rolling around on the mat exchanging blows (not like that!) and wailing away at each other. From the back come running referees Hall and Slapowich, along with a small gathering of trainers, medics, and jobbers. The jobbers slide into the ring first, to try and break up the former and new champs. They have difficulty until the referees get involved. Finally their fight is broken up, three jobbers and Referee Hall holding Jenkins in one corner, while a medic and Referee Slapowich hold Taiga in the opposite corner. The medic tries looking at the gaping wound in Taiga's head. As he does, Jenkins manages to fight his way out of his corner and gets back to Taiga!! The rest of the medics and jobbers work on Jenkins, pulling him away from the new Cruiser-weight champion, tackling him to the mat, dragging him out of the ring under the bottom rope, and struggle to get him up the ramp. He screams out in a level everyone can hear, "I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS BITCH!!" Back in the ring, referee Slapowich holds taiga up as Referee Warner retrieves the SWF Cruiser-weight title from the timekeeper's table and presents it to her. Taiga's eyes are a bit glazed over, and she seems to think she is on another planet. Why is this man in a striped shirt handing her a title? "I won?" It doesn't seem real, even as the holds the belt, her bloody face reflecting in the golden surface. "I won!!" Her face lights up like a child on Christmas morning. She dances around a little, smiling and looking genuinely surprised and happy at the same time. As she celebrates her win with more wobbling than jumping around, the commentators say a few last words. "And Ground Zero sees a new SWF Cruiser-weight Champion in one Taiga Star! What a brutal match she had, being dominated by Hollywood Jenkins for most of it. But in the end, it only took a few key moves to shock us all with the victory over the cocky and arrogant Spike." King sighs, wondering why Mak is putting her over as so. "Taiga Star was just lucky tonight, Mak. If Jenkins didn't make that mistake, she would have never been able to steal the win like she did." Mak Francis raises an eyebrow. "Mistake? What mistake?" "I don't exactly remember. I'm going to have to review the tape at a later time. But Jenkins must have made a mistake somewhere, or he would have never lost." Taiga is still celebrating in the ring as the scene fades into the next segment.

"Can we move along?" asks Suicide King. "Singles action coming up!" continues Mak Francis. "Two men who… really have no issues to speak of, actually. But this is the first meeting ever between these two men. Divefire, the former champion; set to go up against Tod James Stewart, who was victorious in tag team competition last month." "Riiiight, against the DVS crew; who had all of diddly squat in terms of preparation time, as opposed to the Toronto boys who must've been notified of the match, like, a week in advance." "Don't ever say diddly squat again." says Mak with a shudder. "One of the most celebrated cruiserweights in this company's history facing off with one of the most refined technical wrestlers we've seen so far. Let's go to the ring!" … Following the three bell cue, the man with the mic clears his throat and raises his tool of the trade up to his mouth. "Ladies and gentlemen; the following singles contest is set for one fall!" Upon the verbal cue, the arena lights fade to nothingness, making way for slight murmurs and fan speculation as to what is coming next. A mysterious soft female voice is the answer to their inquiry… "It's time to burn…" "Forfeit the game, Stop the talk show, Product of what, You're taught to know, Forfeit the game, 'Cus tomorrow, When it's all done, You reap what you sow!" Under the tones of Vertical Limit's rendition of Linkin Park's Points Of Authority; a powerful roar of the flames engulfs the stage in a massive blaze, concealing it from view for all of three seconds. The fire slowly subsides, as you and I and everyone in the arena can spot the figure of the one man that would walk such a path before him. Dressed in his routine black leather jacket and shades that adorn him, the blazing competitor steps through the flame, power-walking down the aisle to his destination. "First," begins Funyon. "Hailing from the United Kingdom, weighing in at 192 lbs. This – is – Diiiiiiive-fiiiiiiire!!" With a quick hop, the man known as Divefire does a slide into the ring, where he quickly springs up to his feet. And with a double pump of the fists, all four corner posts erupt in a massive BOOM, startling referee Eddy Long. Except Funyon, though. Funyon don't flinch for nothin'. The repercussions having put an end to Divefire's entrance, this makes way for The Beatles' Helter Skelter to take over the speaker system. "When I get to the bottom, I go back to the top of the slide. Where I stop and turn and I go for a ride. Till I get to the bottom and I see you again Yeah, yeah, yeah!" As soon as the song kicks in, out marches one of two men associated with it. Wearing his newly printed black "Putting On A Wrestling Clinic" t-shirt, courtesy of Rawknight Designs, and clad in white tights with blue trim (a variant on his usual royal blue attire), the Canadian grappler appears most happy to once again be stepping into a North American arena. "And his opponent." pursues the dapper announcer. "From Toronto, Ontario, Canada. Weighing in at 237 lbs. He is one half of the G.T.A. Fight Team: Tooood – Jaaaames – Stuart!!" While the announcer retreats to his table, Tod Stuart stops at the top of the stage to point to a group of fans proudly holding up a large Canadian flag. He returns the gesture in kind as he offers the group a respectful adoration-style bow along with a fist raised in their direction. Once the deed is done, he can embark on his confident walk to the ring, stopping once or twice on the ramp to bump knuckles with several front row fans. Spotting the cameraman capturing his every movement from the ramp, he can't help himself but offer us a few words. "First time ever! Myself versus the Mighty SWF Icon Divefire! Although people seem to forget that Mighty SWF Icons are my specialty! Just ask Fallout! If anyone can ever find him… Love you, girls!" Sending his family a kiss through the magic of television waves, Tod Stuart walks up the ring steps and makes sure to wipe his boots on the ring apron before entering the ring. He walks a short distance across the mat and climbs on the nearest second rope he can find, offering another raise of the fist to the Miami populace, who respond with a respectable dose of cheering. Remaining atop his temporary perch, he scans the closest rows for the nearest young fan, and then wrestles out of his newly made t-shirt. He then rolls it up into a ball and tosses it towards his target, converting the garment into a present for one lucky Floridian kid. As the Beatle hit comes to a stop, referee Eddy Long ushers Tod from his elevated position and beckons both men to approach center ring. After a quick reminder of the rules, Stuart respectfully puts out his hand while never taking his gaze away from his opponent. "Ring the bell!" orders Eddy Long. Upon the chime, the focused Divefire switches his glance towards the outstretched hand, and then back at the smiling Canadian. After two seconds of deliberation, Divefire offers the hand a polite slap as both men back away and begin circling each other. "Great show of respect to start us off, promising what should be one hell of a match." notes Mak Francis. "Here we go, collar and elbow tie up in center ring." Both competitors are locked in the initial position, neither giving an inch. That is until Stuart's leverage and size advantage comes into play, as he steps forward and backs his opponent into a corner. "All right guys, step out!!" orders Eddy Long. Having the five count issued, both wrestlers slowly unlock their arms and easily back away from each other. Commending both men on the clean break, Eddy Long waves them along to continue as he steps back to a neutral corner. A few more seconds of sizing up later, the two once again connect into a lock-up. Asserting his dominance once again, the larger Stuart quickly latches on an arm wringer and cinches it for good measure, immobilizing his opponent at the left arm. Sizing up his options, Divefire first tries to punch his way out of the hold, but the pressure on his limb quickly puts an end to those aspirations. Going for plan B, Divefire suddenly rolls forward to relieve the strain on his limb and just as quickly reverses the hold into an arm wringer of his own. Clearly not one to be outwrestled, Stuart quickly closes in the distance on his opponent by "turning" into the armbar and using his free arm to isolate Divefire by holding him at bay until both men are backed up towards the ropes. Ever observant, Eddy Long steps in once again with the obligatory five count. Once further beckoned by the official, both competitors converge once again to center ring. They get set for another collar and elbow tie up, but Stuart is the quicker of the two as he switches gear and catches his opponent with a quick snapmare! Unable to counter to attack, the Englishman soon finds himself flipped over on his rear end. He doesn't even get to spot Stuart quickly leaving his feet and connecting with a dropkick to the back of his head! Holding the back of his cranium, Divefire feels himself pushed shoulders-down to the mat and the figure of Tod Stuart hovering over him with a lateral press. "One!" "Two!" Mere seconds after Divefire has shot up his shoulder, Stuart floats over and captures him with a front facelock, further preventing him from any offensive flurries. He eases him towards a set of ropes, releasing his facelock in the process. After having fired a pair of heavy forearm shots to the head in order to further stun him, Stuart grabs onto Divefire's wrist and yanks him forward into an Irish whip, but the smaller competitor shows his cast iron will by spinning his body around and sending the Canadian on the trip to the ropes instead. He quickly tosses himself down face first to the mat in an effort to trip him up, but Stuart easily hops over him as he rebounds from the ropes. His second tactic is leaping up with a leapfrog upon Stuart's return bounce. Tactic #3 finally compels him to bend down in an attempt at a back body drop, but the quick on his feet Tod puts on the brakes and sends up a sweeping kick that connects with Divefire's shoulder. Grabbing his head and arm into a uranage hold, Stuart quickly drives the back of 'Fire's head into his knee, pulls him back up and completes the move with an STO! He falls on top with another lateral press. "One!" "Two!" Maintaining his opponent's dazed state, Stuart fires off some more forearms to the head as to keep him in check. Once he has him up to a full standing position, he locks him into another arm twist, but this is merely a set-up to one of his signature moves. He fires off a series of shin kicks to the chest of his opponent, places his boot on the side of his head and throws himself on his back, connecting with the Slapshot! Wasting not one second, Stuart quickly shoots the half, into another pincover. "One!" "Two!" "Two count only." notes Mak Francis. "As the action is fast and furious right off the opening bell. Sound strategy on the part of Tod Stuart, using rapid moves and quick pinfall attempts." "Don't forget who he's in there with." replies Suicide King. "Flamey's been around the block a couple times, and all the fancy technical wrestling won't intimidate him. He just needs to get in that one good shot on you in order to turn the tide." Stuart continues isolating 'Fire with an armbar, once again backing him into a set of turnbuckles. Ever the fighter, Divefire begins a counter attack as he manages to find an opening and blasts Stuart on the head with a forearm of his own! While this succeeds in dazing the Canadian, he maintains the trapping arm bar. Divefire balls up his fist and fires away with a series of three to four hard right hands that finally succeed in releasing Stuart's grasp. Switching places, Stuart is now the one in the corner with Divefire on the attack. Drawing upon what works best for him, Divefire unleashes a striking flurry of offense in the form of several more elbow and forearm shots to the head. Finding Stuart sufficiently stunned, an Irish whip from Divefire manages to send him on a trip to the opposite turnbuckles. Without thinking, he charges, but that proves unwise as Stuart already has a boot up, colliding it with 'Fire's face and stopping his momentum. He then props himself up and seats himself on the top turnbuckle, awaiting the return of his staggering opponent. He latches on yet another front facelock and then leaps forward in preparation of his usual Tornado DDT, but Divefire actually has it well scouted! In mid move, he pushes Stuart above and off of him, resulting in the Canadian face planting down hard on the mat in front of him! Divefire makes the best of the situation presenting itself in front of him by darting forward and literally knocking the wind out of Tod Stuart with a diving front dropkick to the chest that floors the Canadian! For good measure, he drops a pair of legdrops across the collarbone to keep his opponent down. "And that would be what I was talking about." confirms Suicide King. "Divefire is the perfect example of a competitor who knows just how to physically deconstruct a human being. He'll hit you hard, he'll kick your teeth in, he's not afraid to tie you up and hell, he'll even stretch you a little bit more than necesarry if he wants to. Following the pair of legdrops, Divefire quickly pounces on top of Stuart for his own first cover attempt of the match. "One!" "Two!" As he had anticipated, Divefire barely reacts when Stuart lifts a defiant shoulder up to the skies. Moving as quick as his body allows him to, he decides to shift his focus to the legs. Holding Stuart's left foot in his hand, he begins furiously dropping a series of five to six elbows to the knee joint. He lets up, but maintaining his hold on Stuart's foot. This is so he can spin around and begin applying a very basic leg lock in order to isolate the limb. But any technical wrestler worth his skill is not about to let himself get tied up on the mat so easily; as Stuart uses his right leg as momentum to spin on his stomach, taking Divefire off his feet and culminating in some… sort of a roll up! Eddy Long is briefly stunned at having rarely seen this variation of the move, but is quick nonetheless to get near the shoulders and count. "One!" "Two!" After the ensuing kick-out, Tod Stuart is the quicker one to his feet and blasts the just-now-getting-up Divefire with a boot to the side of the head! With a bit of a sneer at his opponent's attempt at schooling him at what he does best, Tod takes a brief second to carefully flex his left leg in an attempt at getting some feeling back into it. He then picks up his opponent with a small handful of hair, easing him over to a set of ropes. He fires him off seemlessly with an Irish whip, rearing back for a mighty clothesline. The blow is quickly avoided as Divefire ducks under it and continues running the ropes. On the second bounce, the second intended attack is a back elbow, but this one is also ducked under by the Englishman. On the third bounce, Divefire finally leaps with all of his might with a crossbody, but he's caught! Making full use of the size difference between the two, Stuart muscles his opponent up into the fireman's carry position. Making sure to cradle his head and neck with his arm, Stuart aims for the nearest corner, and charges… driving the back of Divefire's head into the top turnbuckle! Holding onto the fireman's carry, Stuart pushes his opponent up into the air and then drops him face first onto that same turnbuckle. Before Divefire can crumble to the mat from the blow, he staggers into a rear waistlock from Tod and into a crushing German suplex, maintained into a bridge! "One!" "Two!" "Th—" "Near fall once again as Divefire gets the shoulder up." notes Mak Francis. "Tod James Stuart has a very basic moveset that focuses on the head and neck, but he's also been known to improvise or borrow and modify some moves on the spot, just enough so that he doesn't get accused of stealing." "That was almost a version of the famous Go 2 Sleep." retorts Suicide King. "Driving your knee full speed into an opponent's face is already vicious enough as it is. But then try substituting your knee with a hard, tangible solid surface like the freakin' corner of the ring, well then I feel pretty bad for Flamer's face." Both men are back up to their feet; Divefire being a little slower in doing so. Stuart quickly hooks on another front facelock, a standing variation. Fully intending on delivering his Snap DDT, Divefire quickly feels that this isn't the ideal position he shouldn't be in. He charges forward and drives Tod's back into another set of turnbuckles in an attempt at freeing himself, but a series of stiff forearms to the shoulder blades from the Canadian are enough to put an end to those aspirations. Divefire then enacts Plan B, twisting his body out of the hold and countering with a knock out dose of Fire Kick! Rather than go for another attempt at a pinfall, Divefire opts to place his opponent in a position perpendicular to the turnbuckles. Using two quick leaps, the Englishman finds himself on the top rope. He raises his arms in order to get the full momentum, and leaps off; flipping over and landing the Divebomb! Now he floats over into a pincover, hooking the leg for good measure. "One!" "Two!" "Thr-" Raising a defiant fist, Tod Stuart wills his shoulder up to the skies, not ready to be defeated just yet. Maintaining his cast iron grip on his advantage, Divefire lifts up Stuart to his feet with his hair and brings him once again into his chosen place of offense; the corner of the ring. Noting his opponent's fully stunned status, he unleashes a mighty roar and lets loose with blinding speed the following striking combination to Stuart's head and body: jab, forearm, jab, forearm, back elbow, back elbow, Muay Thai clinch, knee to chest, knee, knee, european uppercut, european uppercut. Before Divefire can maintain this Fire Combination of sorts, referee Eddy Long steps in with his standard five-count. When Divefire fails to initially break at the count of 4, Long has to take it upon himself to physically remove the Englishman from the corner. After hearing out Long's tongue lashing, 'Fire casually acquiesces with a calming hand motion and a flat "Awright then". Grabbing onto Stuart's left wrist, he peels him out of the corner with yet another deceptively strong Irish whip that sends the Canadian into the opposite corner. He then takes a few steps back as if to get the maximum head start allowed to him by the confines of the ring, and then just as quickly dashes off with a sudden burst of speed. At three quarters of the ring, he leaps up with all of his might with a graceful leap, finally connecting with the Blast Off! This serves to sufficiently double over the Canadian grappler, enough so that Divefire eases him back into the corner and once again confidently takes a few steps back, intent on delivering a second Blast Off. "I'm always impressed at the hang time displayed every time I see the Blast Off performed by Divefire." states Mak Francis. "That last one looks to have taken all of the wind out of Tod Stuart. If Divefire can hit this second one, he'll have definitely taken control of this match." The Englishman dashes into a sprint once again and again launches himself from nearly halfway across the ring… but he's caught at the last second! Helplessly hovering in the air for all of two seconds, Divefire once again finds the painful arms of the canvas as Stuart drills him into the mat with a standing spinebuster! Attempting to build an offense of his own, Stuart takes a second to shake his thoughts to clarity, and then throws himself into the ropes. Bouncing back, he leaps off into the air, ready to drive the point of his knee into 'Fire's forehead… but hits nothing but mat as Divefire rolls out of the way! Back to his feet, Divefire finally grabs hold of Stuart's left leg for good and begins firing off a series of kicks and stomps to his opponent's knee. He doesn't give him the time to flinch from the blows as he clamps on a legbar and begins to furiously attempt to turn him over into a single leg crab, compensating for the size difference. Following a last burst of strength, Stuart is finally flipped over onto his stomach, trapped into the painful hold. "I got to give it to him." states Suicide King. "Normally it's hard to feel out Divefire's strategery, because it tends to change from match to match. But once he picks it out, figures out your weakness; he'll stay on you till he gets bored. And let me tell you, Flamer's got a lot of patience and resolve. Like you must have when you're trying to reach that chip you dropped on the floor, Mak!" Ignoring Eddy Long's (who's two inches away from his face) inquiries about his potential submission, the first thing on Tod James Stuart's mind is to crawl for that bottom rope that seems ever so close, yet ever so far away. This doesn't prove to be much of a chore, given the fact that he outweighs his opponent by a solid 45 lbs, despite his deceptive strength that's putting a major strain on his left knee at the moment. Digging in his forearms and grasping at the canvas, Tod Stuart slowly but surely inches himself closer to that elusive bottom rope. Using his reach advantage, Stuart makes one last lunge… and locks that rope into his iron grip! "Rope! Come on, let 'im go, Dive!" orders Eddy Long. The official begins his five count, but Divefire quickly releases his hold at 3, no longer wanting to raise the ire from the man in stripes. "This is a very even match so far." says Mak. "Neither men can get a steady rhythm going. Tod Stuart's attempts at grounding Divefire have proved fruitless so far, while on the other hand Divefire has been trying to isolate Stuart's left knee and work on that, but the mat savvy and ring awareness of Tod Stuart has denied him right up until then." Briefly cradling his aching knee, Tod Stuart has rolled under the bottom rope to the relative safety of the ring apron; but Divefire quickly walks over to grab two handfuls of Canadian hair in order to forcefully stand his opponent up to his feet. With nothing but the ring ropes separating the two, Stuart breaks free from the grasp and goes back to his most reliable weapon; a single, but heavy and hard hitting forearm blow to the side of the head. Not one to be outdone in his chosen style, Divefire can do nothing but shake his head clear and return fire with a heavy forearm of his own. This becomes a battle of wills as Stuart retaliates with a second even harder elbow that manages to stagger the Englishman briefly down to one knee. Willing himself out of this stupor, Divefire instinctively curls up the fingers on his left hand and flashes the palm. Unleashing another mighty battle roar, he swings for the fences with a weapon that never seems to fail him when it strikes. Almost seeing his life flash before his eyes, Tod James Stuart has studied enough past SWF and IGNWF data to know that the sight of Divefire's hand coming at you full speed is never a good thing. With both of his hands firmly anchored on the top rope, Stuart intentionally loses his footing and throws his body out of the path of the deadly strike and dodging the figurative bullet. Within the split-second that Divefire has hit nothing but air, Stuart has already muscled his entire body back to a standing position… and locks in the Silent Scream! Despite the irregularity of their positionning, the crowd explodes at the sight of the always effective and potentially dangerous chokehold. Eddy Long furiously begins his count of five, letting Tod know what he already knows; that he can't win this standing on the ring apron. However, Stuart won't get to heed Long's warning as Divefire makes good uses of his rapidly fading air. Reaching blindly behind him, he grabs hold of Stuart's head and drops to a sitting position; crushing Stuart's throat against the rope! Once he's free from the deadly grasp, Divefire leaps off one foot, spins his hips around and connects with the instep of his right boot on the side of Stuart's head! His thoughts no longer clear, Stuart crumbles in a heap on the apron, and spills onto the arena floor. "Divefire scores with the Tornado Kick!" exclaims Mak Francis. "This crowd's been split right up until now. We've just seen a tease of the Silent Scream and before that we've seen a tease of the Flame Out. We're witnessing two men who are intent on simply defeating the other. This is a hell of a match, and this crowd is into it!" Eddy Long begins his count of ten, but Divefire calmly brushes him aside as he crosses the ropes in front of him in order to stand on the apron in turn. Spotting his opponent several feet in front of him, attempting to regain his footing on the ringside mats, trying to pull himself up with the aid of the ring skirt; 'Fire only has determined eyes for his opponents and beckons him on with the international hand gesture. "C'mon, get up mate!!" orders the Englishman in a call picked up by the nearby ringside camera mic. Stomping his boot on the ring apron, the general idea is that Divefire will treat Stuart's head like the figurative football and attempt to punt it several rows back. The moment when he executes himself is when things go wrong. Just as soon as he takes a two-step march forward, he feels a pair of hands wrap around his left ankle. His opponent's. Using the motion in his favor, Tod fiercely yanks Divefire's foot out from under him, causing him to unwillingly leap up in the air and come crashing down hard back and neck first, all the way down to the safety mats!! Everyone from the crowd, to the referee, to the ringside crew unleash a combination groan of surprise and awe at the fall just suffered by the Englishman! "Did you see that?!" utters Mak Francise with a hint of shock and concern in his voice. "That's at least the height of a human being, and he just fell down that distance on the back of his HEAD!!" "That was a hell of a fall!" retorts Suicide King. "But Tod Stuart can't just gawk at Divefire with that 'What have I done?' stare! Here is his ultimate chance and he's wasting it as Eddy Long is counting both men out of the ring!" The sight in front of Stuart's eyes is of Divefire holding the back of his head and neck, arching his back, his face indelibly etched in agony. Finally breaking his trance, Stuart finally notices that Eddy Long has reached the count of 4, soon upon 5. What the hell. If he's gonna beat him, he's gonna beat him where it's meant to happen. Working fast against Long's count, Stuart grabs hold of Divefire by hooking him under the armpits, and rolls the nearly unconsious mass into the ring, breaking the count. Just as Long reaches 8, Stuart has rolled into the ring and hovers over Divefire with a lateral press. The crowd counts along. "ONE!" "TWO!" "THRE-!!" "No!! Shoulder up!!" bellows the official, having caught the kick-out with his eagle eye. While the crowd explodes at the last-second surge of courage and never-quit bravado, and at the sight of Divefire already on one knee; Tod Stuart could be flustered at the display in front of him. He could be arguing the count with Eddy Long, but he knows only one course of action will put his mind at ease. He just dealt the strongest of blows to his opponent, probably concussing him, and now he's watching him trying to get up. He can't help but be impressed, maybe even respect Divefire a little. Calmly walking over, he enlaces his arm around Divefire's, providing an anchor point and helping him to his feet. If one looked closer, one could almost detect a look of gratitude from Divefire, but one could also find that Tod Stuart doesn't return the glance. With a quick change in demeanor; he immediately hooks him in an inverted fireman's carry position. Sweeping his legs out from under him, Stuart drives the back of Divefire's head into the mat! Stuart falls on top with another lateral press, hooking the leg. "Brain Go Splat by Tod Stuart!!" bellows Mak. "This is nothing but a formality now!" "ONE!" "TWO!" "THREE!!" As the bell rings, Funyon makes it official. "Here is your winner: Tooood – Jaaaames – Stuart!!" "What an impressive victory for Tod James Stuart." notes the Franchise while the slow-motion replay is unfolding. "Both men were evenly matched, until Tod got cut a huge break when he caused Divefire to take that nasty fall off the ring apron." "That little handshake at the start was a show of respect between the two," replies the Gambling Man. "But that handshake is gonna be the last thing on Diver's mind for now. Tod Stuart is all about the respect, but as we've just seen, the one thing he truly does care about is defeating you and winning. This is what he taught to Daniel Smith, and this is what he teaches at the Wrestling Clinic. If I had a Christmas card list, this guy would be somewhere below you and Landon on the Ladder Of Priority. But he did a hell of a job defeating one of the most decorated veterans in this company and for that, I can't help but give him a nod of approval." "High praise, King. High praise…" says Mak. As Eddy Long gives him the customary 'raise-hand-and-point' to signity his victory; Tod Stuart can gain some comfort from the fact that he's one step further on his quest for self-acceptance. Despite the drawbacks and mis-steps of the past, the uncertain future lies ahead of him as he makes his way to the locker room area, slapping palms with a few fans along the way…

The Commissioner’s makeshift office is nay more than a locker room with more comfortable furniture and some wall décor. Megan Syke is handing some papers to Landon Maddix, seated casually on a sofa, body sinking into it and legs spread wide. “What’s all this?” Landon asks. “Just paperwork, Landon. It should all be customary to you by now.” “Well, I just—” a knock at the door pulls Landon’s attention away from the conversation. “Come in.” Leo Breslin walks into the room and closes the door behind him. “Landon,” he says, acknowledging the commissioner with a nod. “Megan.” “Ahh, Leo… how’re you doing fitting back into the federation you abandoned so long ago?” “It didn’t go down like that, Landon. I had other, more important commitments.” “I kid, of course. But, wait… you’re not here to quit, are you?” “Landon,” Megan interjects. “I’m sure he wants to talk to you about what happened to his brother at Jamaican Me Crazy.” “Yes! An impressive win over Munich, indeed. Maybe I should see how you fare in singles competition.” “No, Landon,” Megan says. “It’s a bit more serious than the win.” “Obviously. You mean the um… the clause, right? His shot at Insane Luchador? He’s got it, next show.” “That’s the thing, Landon,” Leo says. “Luke’s not going to be cleared for the next show. Thank TKO for that.” “That was horrendous, wasn’t it?! I mean, it was bad enough that Luke got his arm busted up by Munich. Then TKO just took is so much further. I mean, the blinding awamori! The belt to the bad arm! And then a tiger driver onto—” “Landon,” Megan says as the disgust in Leo’s face begins to show more clearly. “I think maybe Leo wants you to do something about what happened to his brother.” “A card? Flowers?” “The match, Landon,” Leo says matter-of-factly “Yes, yes. Luke will fight Insane Luchador. He’ll be better by Genesis, right?” “He’ll be one-hundred percent by Genesis. But he doesn’t want Insane Luchador right now. He wants TKO. We want TKO. We want their titles.” “Luke’s giving up a shot at the World Title to fight… TKO? Haven’t they proven their point already by—” “They’ve proven a point, Landon… a point that counts for nothing but cowardice and an inability to face a challenge head-on, in true competitive fashion.” “So… The Breslins versus TKO at Genesis for the Tag Titles? Can we do that, Megan? It wasn’t in the clause.” Megan simply shrugs and shakes her head slowly. “It seems reasonable to me.” “I don’t know,” Landon says quietly. “It’s simple, really. Either let my brother and I take the gold from a hated and undeserving team, or let a federation freshman take the cherished Insane Luchador’s championship. Do you want to dilute the title to that again, Landon? I’m sure you want a bigger main event at the most important and jaw-dropping show in this federation’s history, right? I mean, I’m sure any commissioner would…” Landon is sitting up by this time, his elbows on his knees and his hands folded. His eyes are glaring up at Leo, a mixture of defiance and acknowledgment. Megan looks back and forth between the two men, but the room remains silent. “Give me a fight at the next show. Give us TKO at Genesis,” Leo says, turning and finding the door before exiting and allowing the scene to fade.