Toxxic

On a slightly more disturbing note, further calculations reveal that if I retain the title at Twas The Fight then I will automatically become the second-longest reigning World Champion of all time, as the Christmas break will take me over Edwin's 103-day mark. Now that's scary.

Who are the Boondock Saints?

So what time of day are you on?

Hmm. If I was Landon I wouldn't have picked Fury to be the one to get a free pass past Dagda and face in the first round. He's a damn good writer... but I think Maddix can get this one. #1 Landon Maddix #9 Christian Fury Spike to take out Rev-0's punching bag. #4 Todd Cortez #5 Spike Jenkins Gotta love the Muzz. The only ex-World Champion in the tourney takes this one. #6 Manson #3 Sacred Tricky tricky... but I think King just gets the nod. #7 David Cross #2 Max King SEMIS Spike can win this. He's beaten Landon before, and he's a very good writer when he gets going. BUT Landon's more consistent. So with a heavy heart I have to pick my stablemate to take the fall... that being said, if Spike DOES win I won't be that surprised. #1 Landon Maddix #5 Spike Jenkins Sorry Max (and Landon) but your dream final won't be happening. Sacred takes this one too. #3 Sacred #2 Max King FINAL Who knows. I certainly don't. This would be the ultimate competitive final (although I've love to see Spike/Sacred). It's pretty much too close to call, but I think Landon's consistency at showing might just tip the balance. #1 Landon Maddix#3 Sacred

Time: Half an hour after Lockdown Place: The car park of the Pepsi Arena, Denver, Colorado Christian Fury steps out of the elevator and heads for his car, bag containing his two SWF titles slung over his shoulder and a whirl of thoughts going through his head. On Smarkdown he will face off against Landon Maddix to try and advance to the next round of the Cold Front Classic, and La Cucuracha won’t find his task easy... Abruptly, Fury stops. He’s still several feet from his car, but something odd has struck him. Although the light over his parking bay is still working the lights to either side have both apparently failed, leaving the shadows of the concrete pillars long and dark. Christian shakes his head; he’s sure they weren’t like that earlier, but the likelihood of them both going in just a few hours... He hears footsteps behind him, and turns. “David?” he asks. He thought Cross had already left the arena, but who else could it be...? “Guess again,” the reply comes back, and into the circle of light steps the familiar figure of the World Heavyweight Champion, Toxxic. “Fury,” Toxxic says, flipping the Hardcore Gamer’s Champion a lazy, two-fingered salute. “I saw your video earlier.” “Did you like it?” Christian asks, grinning tightly. Toxxic looks at him for a moment, then grins back, the right hand side of his face creasing up. “Well let me see, an annoying, worthless drunk like Dagda getting the crap kicked out of him?” Toxxic snorts a laugh. “Yeah, I can live with that.” As quick as the smile arrived it disappears, and the straight-edger looks serious again. “I wasn’t so keen on what you said though. You see, I began to think to myself ‘if Fury’s prepared to do that to a guy in the preliminary round of the tournament... what’s he going to do to the guy holding the belt?’.” The Straight-Edge Sensation steps closer, and the grey eyes stare directly into Fury’s. “Not to mention the fact that you mentioned me... and my friends.” Suddenly, Christian Fury is aware that he and Toxxic aren’t alone down here. Two shadows have detached themselves from the pillars to either side of him and closed in. The smaller one must be Spike... and the bigger one is certainly Sean Davis. Fury turns his attention back to the Brit in front of him, and smiles nastily. “Why? Did I scare you?” “I don’t scare easily,” Toxxic tells him, walking right up to Fury, “and what you’ve got doesn’t cut it.” The straight-edger raises a hand and snaps his fingers. “Guys?” Fury suddenly finds his arms taken and pinned up against his back as Sean and Spike grab them and force them into hammerlock positions, before Davis grabs his hair and yanks Christian’s head backwards. The Hardcore champion watches Toxxic take a pair of brass knuckles out of one of his voluminous side pockets, slip them onto his fingers and- “So what,” Fury hisses, “you’re going to attack me and prove my point for me? You’re nothing but scum, Toxxic!” “You don’t need me to prove your point,” the Brit tells him, smiling slightly. “Everyone in the SWF reckons I’m ‘evil’ anyway. No, what I’m doing is proving my point.” Toxxic draws him arm back... and slams his fist into Fury’s gut. The breath whooshes from Christian’s lungs as he doubles over, but he can still hear Toxxic’s voice. “I’m sure you remember what happened the last time you tried to stand alone against a dominant stable,” the Straight-Edge Sensation tells him. “Believe me, I’m not Kibagami... but if you push me, you might find out I can be just as bad.” He kneels down and peers up into Fury’s face, head titled to one side as if watching something interesting. “I’ve got a big enough target on my waist without arseholes like you thinking they can take matters into their own hands outside the ring,” Toxxic tells the breathless Fury. “We could break a limb, put you into a coma... or that old favourite, internal bleeding. What we’re actually going to do is much less serious - we’re just proving a point. Sean?” The Perfect Storm responds by releasing Fury’s arms, turning him around, placing him in a standing headscissors and hoisting him up high... before powerbombing him down on the hood of his own car. *BANG!* “That’s got to hurt,” Toxxic says as Fury writhes on the dented metal, “but you should be OK for your match against Maddix, apart from a few bruises. If you can beat him, win the tournament and face me for the title I’ll be more than happy to settle this... in the ring.” Toxxic leans down until his mouth is next to Fury’s ear. “But until then, if you ever get the urge to do something stupid, do yourself a favour. Don’t make the mistake of telling me what you’re going to do before you do it.” Toxxic straightens up, turns on his heel and walks off, flanked by Sean and Spike. Meanwhile Christian Fury, spreadeagled across the front of his own car, simply stares up at the light above him.

Interesting... very interesting... But of course - an 'Olympic-style' match like Flesher would do is what Toxxic HATES. He can't mat wrestle for shit. He's an overblown spot monkey who just happens to specialise at beating wrestlers bigger and stronger than him. Bring it, Frisco. You've proved you're not such an arse after all... now let's see what you've got... *hurries off to write*

I'm grabbing opening promo, that is unless Dace wants it.

Yeah, here's an angle - you come back as my bitch in Rev-0 On a serious note - if you want to set something up, I'm all ears. Except for the bit of me that is cock.

*marks for Dace's return and loves his cock* Yeah, I DARE you to come back now, bitch.

Sorry Strangler, you're too late. No-one's getting this belt off me until Smarkdown at the earliest, so I've already beaten you... In fact, if my maths is correct, if I hold it until Twas The Fight I've got the third-longest reign ever...

Don't turn Batista full face. In fact, you probably don't need to turn him at all. He gets a big reaction - and it's a face reaction - simply from turning up, posing, powerbombing, spinebustering and generally brutalising people. People love to see Big Dave take people out. So simply make him his own man and point him at heels as well as faces and I could see Big D Batista dressing sharp, looking over his sunglasses at people, cutting some pretty reasonable promos and generally smashing shit out of the Raw roster. The matches wouldn't be technical masterpieces but he'd LOOK unstoppable, and he is capable of exciting the live crowd.

What really gets me is that 'visceral mass' is the technical term for a snail's foot (i.e. most of the snail that isn't shell). And they've got a guy called Viscera. Just call him King Snail (appropriate, given his pace).

*marks* I second that.

You're shitting me, right? Cheers for this, Slammer!

An alliterative haiku by Calvin. Oh and Muzz, do you wanna repost Sacred's stats instead of Ace's?

I know I struggle to get anything approaching a decent match in for under 5k.

I'd like to point out that if the brackets call for Landon to meet Spike, that should be Spike's ICTV shot. Great promo Landon. Really gets across the importance of what you have done whilst looking higher. And personally, I think that 90 days with the ICTV is certainly long enough for someone to look up and say "you know what? This is great, but I want more." Bring it, you cocky Cambridge SOB.

The point being of course, that no other World CHamp this year has managed to get beyond a PPV with the belt. So the most anyone could have is from one PPv to the next. I've now gone beyond that, so I'm naturally going to be one of the higher reigns. Now the trick is to keep the damn thing for just a LITTLE bit longer... EDITED TO ADD: I could have sworn I held the ICTV for over 40 days. Ah well.

Congrats to Andrea and Ghost, and especially to Maddix for writing an exciting Battle Royal. BOOOOOOOOO to people not promoing. Oh, and I now have money on Carnage's manager being Frisco. But Carnage is actually amusing and non-irritating, so that's all OK.

Unfortunately Robbie Brookside sucks arse. Unless he's improved DRAMATICALLY in the last year or so (or he just couldn't give a fuck about doing anything decent when i saw him).

I miss hardcore Toxxic too. That's mainly why i suggested a Street Fight to Annie. The trouble is Toxxic the character hates Hardcore, but I love writing it. Oh, and cheers for the props for me as a leader figure *goes off to choke on his own phlegm* Mmm, I love colds.

I call closing promo.

Happy birthdizzle, Thoth-jizzle

Well, at least it's not a little girl this time.

Oooooooh. I wonder how much trouble Sean is going to get in for denting Funyon's car?