Toxxic

Is that because I've gone, or because Johnny is going to be the first person to ever headline two Genesis PPVs?

Personally, I'd have given the rematch to Zyon. I think a Zyon vs Ward feud would be the way to go - popular high-flying kiddy vs arrogant control freak heel. It's gold, I tell ya. *relaxes in the knowledge that he won't be booked*

JJ is a punkass bitch. I thought this was common knowledge. It doesn't mean we love him any less though.

11,950. And this is only about the fourth-longest PPV I've ever done, if that.

Aww, you soppy bastard.

This is true. But the only people who know are Jet and Card.

The Scene: The Electric Ballroom, Camden, London The Time: Friday 29th July, 11.45pm “Jesus, he sure can go, can’t he!” Chris Card says with feeling as he and Jet watch Toxxic whirling, spinning and windmilling like crazy to the punk music currently pumping out of the Electric Ballroom’s speakers. “I’d fall over if I tried that,” Jet admits, then peruses her glass. “Then again, that might be because I’m getting drunk…” The Philly Madgirl sweeps her black-and-red dreads back out of her face, then squints over at the dancefloor before laughing to herself. “What?” Card asks, trying to see what has amused her. “The guy Toxx likes is over there,” Jet giggles, taking another sip of her vodka and Coke. “No wonder he’s dancing so hard.” “What? Where?” Card asks, then cuts himself off. “Wait a minute - the guy Toxxic likes?” “Yeah,” Jet says, turning to look inquisitively at Technical Perfection. “Whoah, OK, back up a minute here,” Card protests, mind racing, but all he can do is repeat himself. “The guy…” “Chris, Toxx is gay,” Jet says, giggling again at the expression that crosses Card’s face. “Well… mostly, anyway. Didn’tcha know?” “Uhhh… NO.” Card says, with considerably feeling. “What… when did that happen? I mean,” he continues, “I thought you and he were-” “Oh, we were,” Jet admits, “but we sort of broke it off around February-ish. He’d been thinking about things for a while and decided it wasn’t for him… and to be fair, it means I don’t have to try and stay sober anymore,” she continues, suiting action to words and knocking back the rest of her drink. Then something seems to strike her and she fixes Card with a gaze that’s only slightly unsteady. “So you know when I was training with you, and me and Tasha would go out in the evenings, and all those stories she told you about the guys and girls I ended up with… and you never worked out I wasn’t with Toxx anymore?” “I, er… well, I guess I thought you guys had some kind of arrangement,” Card admits. Jet snorts with laughter. “Yeah, we had an arrangement alright,” she agrees, still laughing, “we’d arranged that we weren’t together!” She controls herself and leans closer to be heard over the music. “Chris, Toxx and me are still good friends, and we’re still gonna spend a lot of time together. But we are not dating!” “Right…” Card says, digesting this before looking up with a glint in his eye. “So, I don’t suppose-” “No way,” Jet cuts him off, levelly. Card shrugs. “Well, you can’t blame me for trying…” “I can, but I won’t,” Jet tells him. “Now move outta the way, cos me and Tasha want a go in the cages!” With that the dreadlocked beauty barges past Card, grabs the sultry figure of Natasha and heads off for the dancing cages where a bevy of gothic sluts have already been bumping and grinding this evening. As Card watches with a considerable amount of interest he is suddenly aware of a presence at his left elbow. “Yo,” Toxxic gasps, picking up his glass of Coke from where he left it and -having sniffed it suspiciously to make sure no-one’s pulled a Spike Jenkins on him- downing the remaining vegetable-based carbonated beverage. When Card doesn’t respond immediately Toxxic looks up at his training partner, then narrows his eyes at Technical Perfection’s apparent uneasiness. “What…?”

Well i'm trying to write with an announce team that consists of King (who hates Toxxic because he's gone all face), Flesher (who just dislikes him generally) and Annie (who SHOULD pull for him because he's a face, but happens to have been defeated by Toxxic, in England, when he was still a heel, for the World Title, on her last appearance in the SWF). So I'm pretending Annie's got amnesia or something, cos I'm not having all three comentators shouting me down.

Yeah, the Manson/Rev-0 thing... Spike and Sarah did indeed nix that. But I was certain I wanted another member (largely so we had a heelish superiority of numbers against Urban Empire or Martial Law or whoever it was we were fighting at that time) and Sacred had slightly more 'name value' I suppose. At least, I managed to persuade Spike into it by saying we could use the Spike character's dissatisfaction as a means to break up Rev-0 and launch our long-planned feud. And lo and behold, we did. Did I ever mention that the original two grunts of Rev-0 were meant to be Spike and BLAZENWING? Glad he fucked off before we went through with THAT.

Robzilla the Lady Thrilla was actually kinda amusing. After all, the Iron Claw description was good: 'The success of this move is... debatable.'

I beat you. *gets jobbed for the rest of his career*

And only a few shows ago you were protesting that you still wanted to be friends even though you'd broken our agreement, yet here you are wanting to hurt me. *puts on 'Do You Really Want To Hurt Me' by Culture Club* *turns it off again with an expression of distaste*

Sly is certifiably awesome.

Who says it needs to go anywhere?

Just below 7k I think.

WC: Yeah, Spike vs Toxxic got blown off at the last PPV (handy really, since Spike broke his hand). As for the Pretz/Toxxic feud, it was never intended to 'upstage' WC/Pretzler. Instead of starting as enemies they started as friends and it degenerated from there. Personally I think the best thing about the feud for me has been the gradual escalation in hostilities as both men bring out more and more of their 'hardcore' moves. For example, in the first match neither of us threw a strike or used any headdroppy stuff, but in the second Pretz hit a knife-edge chop and Toxxic was actually SHOCKED. The final match, although being a bastard to write, should also be fun.

In answer to Dub-Cee's point about Toxxic's speed - it might just be that Toxxic is better than Wildchild... No, but seriously. Pretzler schools Toxx on the mat and is stronger to boot. Toxxic's main weapon is his speed - if the argument is that Pretzler should be able to counter that because he's beaten WC, then logically I cannot beat anyone who has ever beaten WC. I think we'll have to accept that it's because Toxxic uses it differently, mixes his brawling advantage in as well, is just plain luckier or something.

You could have TOLD me that when we had that MSN conversation JUST THE OTHER DAY! You know, when I said 'oh, Canadian Deathmatch is no-DQ and no-countout' and you went 'Oh shit, that fucks me over' or words to that effect. Ah well. It'll all come out in the wash.

Tom Flesher sits back, smiling smugly (although with a considerable amount of relief) at the paperwork in front of him. The publicity is out, all the interviews are done, everything that needs his personal seal of approval or a picture of him on or a few well-chosen words has been completed. There should be nothing, nothing that will stop Tom Flesher’s Ground Zero from being one of the most successful events in SWF history. The Superior One’s business cellphone goes and Flesher, acting on instinct from the last couple of days, snatches it up to answer without even looking at the caller’s number. “Hi, Tom Flesher.” “Eh up Tom, how’s it goin’?” “Who… Toxxic?” Flesher snaps, suspicion crystallising into annoyed certainty as the Nottingham accent greets him through his handset. “What do you want?” “I want you to make a change to the Ground Zero card.” Flesher says nothing for a second. Then he lets rip with a rich, fruity chuckle that may not be entirely for Toxxic’s benefit. “I’m very sorry, but I just can’t do that,” Flesher replies. “I mean, the matches are signed, the paperwork’s done, all the publicity’s out… not to mention the fact that the booking committee certainly isn’t going to change anything just because you want it,” he finishes slightly spitefully. “Just out of interest, what were you after? A World Title shot?” “No. I want my Canadian Deathmatch with Pretzler to lose the No-DQ and No Countout stipulations.” That one seems to surprise Flesher. He actually takes the cellphone from his ear and looks at it for a second in mild disbelief before replacing it and speaking. “Why?” “Tom, use your head. I don’t like hardcore but I’m bloody good at it, and if it’s in the rules then I’m going to hit Scott with anything that comes to hand. But Pretzler hates weapons, and he won’t use ‘em. So at the end of the match when I’ve been hitting him with chairs and ladders and God knows what else and I’ve won, he’ll claim it isn’t settled. We’ll have gone through five matches without proving anything.” “…OK,” Flesher says reluctantly. “So let me get this straight. You want me to remove some stipulations so you’re in fact competing under regular singles rules, just trying to get to ten counts, and you want me to do this to make it harder for you to win?” Flesher chuckles again, although not as merrily this time. “I’m not a stupid man, Toxxic. Why would you make it harder on yourself? What’s the catch?” “No catch, numpty. When I beat Pretzler, I want him to know that I beat him on his terms. In fact, I’m amazed he hasn’t rung you himself.” Tom Flesher pauses for a moment. Scott Pretzler hasn’t rung; in fact he visited the Superior One in person yesterday, protesting at what he viewed was an unnecessary licence for violence and deploring the lack of traditional wrestling rules. Flesher had apologised but informed the Critic of the necessity to satisfy the fans, who would undoubtedly want a suitably dramatic blow-off to the issues between him and Toxxic, as well as hinting darkly about unwelcome pressure from Joseph Peters. Pretzler had left with the air of a man resigned to barbarism but determined to prove that his non-hardcore style would still win. And yet here is Toxxic on the phone, demanding the very same thing (although for different reasons). It only takes Flesher a moment to come to his decision; no weapons on his part of the card suits him fine, and not even Peters could complain if both wrestlers were adamant they wanted it this way… “Well, since you’re so determined to have it your way,” Flesher says magnanimously, “I suppose I might be able to make a small alteration… OK Toxxic, I’ll remove the stipulations. Your match now has regular singles rules, apart from the fact that you need to accumulate a total of ten counts to win. Enjoy,” Flesher finishes and goes to hang up, but he hears Toxxic’s voice over the earpiece. “Tom?” Flesher doesn’t answer. He just hold the phone close enough to his ear to hear what the Straight-Edge Sensation has to say. “You probably think I’ve just guaranteed myself a loss, don’t you? That I’ve played right into Scott’s hands?” Flesher finds himself nodding in unconscious agreement. “Sunshine, you’d better prepare to be proved wrong.” *click* Tom Flesher stares at his phone for a moment, then jabs a thumb to hang up and stuffs it back into his pocket. “Arrogant little prick…”

Shin fain. That's the one, guv.

[This is being done because when Pretz and I discussed the stip for our final match we didn't realise it'd be No-DQ and No Countouts, and he's on holiday and has already written his match so it seemed unfair to go ahead with stips different from what he thought he was getting.]

Johnson as Flesher's hitman, or simply in it for his own gain? Hmm... Well, this certainly sets up Ground Zero well enough, and it's a match I'm looking forward to.

=========== THE LAS VEGAS CARD Las Vegas Main Event - SWF World Heavyweight Championship Match Ejiro Fasaki © vs. Johnny Dangerous ~This is incredibly tricky. I sort of want Johnny to win, as I think that will stop Ejiro from beating my runs as World Champ. It'll also mean I can go to Genesis and take the title off him for the second year in a row But I think I probably have to JUST give the nod to Ejiro. If johnny does win I won't be surprised though, not surprised at all. Casino Brawl Landon Maddix vs. Todd Cortez ~I consider Maddix to be the better all-round writer of these two, but Todd is crazily inventive in a hardcore environment and is very, very solid. I think I'll be going with the man from Hollywood Boulevard. Lady Luck is a Bitch - House Rules Match for the SWF Hardcore Championship Zyon © vs. Marcus Ward vs. Nick "The Hitlist" Blum ~Ward looks solid, Blum looks like he took his movelist from a WWE console game but I'll defer further judgement until I've seen him, Zyon is established and is clearly talented. I say he gets it unless one of the other two manages to work the stip in a veru entertaining way to pick up the win. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- THE LONDON CARD London Main Event - Best of Five Final Match - Canadian Deathmatch Toxxic vs. Scott Pretzler © ~We're both writing, if that helps anyone here. Wildchild vs. El Luchadore Magnifico III - This time it's personal! ~What happened to the first two ELMs? No, but seriously - I think Mags might be able to pull this off. SWF International Championship Match - Old School Rules "The Dean of Professional Wrestling" Jay Hawke © vs. Manson ~Probably Jay Hawke, sheerly on average showing capability. JJ Johnson vs. "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins ~Hmm. Spike has been working a lot, but has more experience than J3 (or so we THINK...) If Spike has time to turn out a proper effort he should take this, but Johnson is capable of a surprise.

I want a bottle of absinthe for Drea, just to see if she becomes normal under it's influence.

Question for Mike - I heard 'Popular' today for the first time in years, and it struck me as a remarkably melancholy song for the charismatic, cocky Van Siclen to come out to. Why did you choose it?