Toxxic

Well now I'm a flashy high-flying face who doesn't take short cuts you guys should be sorted Damn, I remember reading that X-Net 'being a heel guide' and thinking "Huh? A heel has to lose? How does losing make him hated?"

I realise they might not have the money or the recognition to make it viable, but damn, it'd be cool if they did. Although I might have to fight my girlfriend to get her to stop playing with Alex Shelly.

No-one can touch Heenan, but was JBL the best since Heenan? Even then I have my doubts, I remember him continually giving props to Spanky and London for crying out loud. However, no-one will ever better the commentary duo that was Josh Matthews and Tazz on Velocity.

Yeah, well I'm jobbing you to a slide. As in, I'm going to slide down the slide and land on you with a Slide Splash, then pin you.

If we can get a series of promos out of this where each and every single SWF wrestler, including the Scion of Light, plays mischievous pranks on Clark to try and make him snap, I'll be a very happy man.

Who are you to doubt Noone? He's a big star on the British independent circuit.

I'm going for the 'local derby' angle - the form book goes out of the window because of the emotion involved. It's been ages since Spike and Toxx got in the ring together, but because of what's gone down between them it's never going to be pretty. No matter what Toxx brings, Spike knows him well - but of course, the reverse is also true. I'm not ruling out opening a can on Spike either, mind you

Night is starting to creep in over southern Canada, and the illuminations around the famous Horseshoe Falls on the Niagara River start to glow as dusk darkens the sky. Tourists who have travelled over from the US for the day are starting to head back, but one man stands at the rails of an observation point and watches, steel-grey eyes seemingly heedless of the countless millions of gallons of water relentlessly thundering over the falls. “Penny for your thoughts?” “At this exchange rate?” Stephens returns, turning his head to see the girl who approached unheard from behind; not difficult, this close to the cacophony from the gorge below. He recognised the voice, of course; Naomi Walters, more usually known to the general public by her old ring-name of Jet. His ex-girlfriend and former manager, now working as an SWF talent scout and part-time PA to Joseph Peters. She fixes him with a stare and flicks her red-and-black dreadlocks back over one shoulder. “I dunno,” Mike says, turning back to look out at the Falls, “I guess I’m sort of wondering where I go from here.” “How’d you mean?” Jet asks, coming up to lean on the rails next to him. “It’s like, Genesis was it, Stephens says, “from the moment I knew Tom wanted the title I was sure Peters was going to throw us together at Genesis. It was going to be the biggest match of my career, the hardest match of my career. Everything I did - well, nearly everything - was based on the run-up to it. I was going to be going into that match as prepared as I’d ever been in my life, I was going to make Flesher fight for a win. And bugger me, I did it. I beat him. So now…” he laughs, mirth with a faint bitter edge. “What do I do? How do I follow that?” “How do you prove them wrong now?” Jet murmurs. Stephens’ eyes flicker towards her for a second, and he chews the inside of his lip absent-mindedly. “…yeah.” “So tell me,” Jet says slowly, “are you proud of beating Tom because you know it was a really difficult thing to do, or are you proud of beating Tom because a lot of people thought you wouldn’t?” Michael Stephens stands for a moment, apparently lost in thought. If he has the answer, he doesn’t give it. “See, that’s one of the reasons I liked you, back then,” Jet says, “because you honestly didn’t care what anyone else thought. You didn’t like the guys who played to the fans, you didn’t like the guys like Flesher who did things deliberately to fuck the fans off. You just did what you did, and told anyone who liked it or didn’t like it to go hang. But now… are you interested in wrestling as well as you can? Or do you just want to try and prove somebody else wrong, and keep on until you find something you genuinely can’t do? I mean,” she continues, “you’ve beaten Tom Flesher in straight singles at Genesis, what’s next? Taking on the Weapons of Mass Destruction by yourself? Defending the Cruiserweight, Tag and World Titles one after another on the same night? Locking yourself in a cage with five guys who all want your title?” “Did you want to labour your point any more?” Stephens asks dryly. “Only until you start to fucking focus,” Jet snaps. “You know damn well what’s next, Mike - Spike’s next. You’ve got him on Lockdown, and he’s coming for the Cruiserweight Title. Plus, last time you faced him on PPV, he beat you.” “Thanks for the reminder,” Mike grunts. “I’m surprised Peters agreed to put it back from Aftershoxx, really.” “Oh come on,” Jet laughs, “you’re just beaten Tom Flesher at Genesis. You’re career’s bigger than it’s ever been before; Peters doesn’t like you, but every time he looks at you he sees dollar signs. He’ll give you little requests like that, but he wants to get as much money out of you as possible as fast as possible before you disappear on him again. Hell, he even wanted to set up an official Michael Stephens fan club through the SWF website, but someone beat him to it.” “..say what?” Stephens says, brow furrowing, “how can something like that be official unless I’m in on it?” “Well, apparently you are,” Jet says, “Joe’s still trying to find out the details but it seems two girls are claiming you gave them personal permission to set one up?” “Oh God,” Stephens says, closing his eyes, “Prague. I bet it was Prague. It was after I left last year, I was travelling around Europe, two girls recognised me in Prague.” “What did they look like?” “They had a lot of eyeliner,” Mike recalls. “Figures,” Jet sniffs. “And you said they could set a fan club up?” “They asked me if they could,” Mike says. “…to be honest, I think my exact words were ‘knock yourselves out’, but…” He stops. He places his head in his hands. His next words are muffled by speaking through his fingers. “This fan club… what’s it called?” Jet doesn’t answer for a second and Mike peeks out from between his fingers. Then he sees her smirking and shuts his eyes again. “Go on…” “Well, the Official Michael Stephens Fan Club goes by the name of ‘The Sensation Nation’,” Jet tells him. “Bloody hell…” the World Champion, Cruiserweight Champion and one half of the Tag Team Champions mutters. It figures that two girls and a throwaway comment can embarrass him more than Tom Flesher managed in Toronto. Then he removes his hands and regards his ex-girlfriend steadily. “What’s happening with Gabe?” “How d’you mean?” “I mean, is he being punished for his attack on Landon at Genesis?” the straight-edger says. “I mean, is he being suspended? I mean, is he being fined? I mean, is Peters going to be putting me in the ring with him any time soon?” “You’re probably going to have to ask Joe that yourself,” Jet replies, “because much as I still like you Mike, I’m still not risking my job for you. But he has got something in store for you, I know that much. He wants to get one massive payday out of you. Look out for yourself.” “Yeah, you too,” Mike says. They look at each other for a second more, then Jet places a chaste peck on his cheek, grins at him and turns to walk off. Stephens watches her go for a second, then looks back out at the vista of tumbling water and nods to himself. “Focus. Spike’s next.” These days, it’s not often that the mirthless half-grin that used to define the Straight-Edge Sensation crosses the face of Michael Stephens. But Michael Stephens has no history with Spike Jenkins. Toxxic, on the other hand, has a bundle. From enmity, to allies as part of Revolution Zero, to growing hostility and resentment until finally, once he was convinced Spike had put his own interests ahead of the group’s, Toxxic turned on Jenkins. Revolution Zero helped Scott Pretzler end Spike’s record-breaking Cruiserweight Title reign, beat him down and threw him out of the stable. It wasn’t until Spike had slipped a psychedelic drug into Toxxic’s drink to mess with his fellow straight-edger’s head, then won a Last Man Standing match at 13th Hour 2005 by hitting the Ratings Grabber on Toxxic through the announce table, that the self-proclaimed New Straight-Edge Sensation (and how Toxxic always hated that) felt he’d got some revenge. The grin creases Stephens’ face. “Spike’s next. Poor Spike.”

That means nothing. Slappings wouldn't bother Annie, as long as it was the right girl administering them. And Spike, 110 is not cool. Kylee Kross on the other hand, potentially would be. However, I'm disappointed that you didn't do a 720 DDT into the ditch, because that would have made Jody Fleisch proud.

All we can ask for. I lost my first competitive match and remember similar feelings.

I've just reviewed it. I went for 'constructive criticism' rather than 'nice', so take it as you will. It's meant to help, not to imply that I'm having a go or trying to make you feel bad about yourself.

Raina’s match: First of all, take care with the sentence structure. Small things like “Raina starts gets to his feet” can really drag your match down, you need to make sure all the words you want (and none you don’t want) are there. Secondly, SOL showed a better understanding of the nature of the match - for her, all four competitors were mentioned as they worked out who would start the match. With you, the moment the Rageheart jumped Raina MANSON and SOL apparently disappeared with no explanation as to why they didn’t decide to get involved. The Rageheart chinlock - a chinlock is a weardown move, which would make no sense to release after a few seconds. The only real reason to release a submission hold is if you know it’s not doing what you want it to do - for something that takes quite a lot of effort to maintain, like say an STF, it could well be worth releasing it if your opponent isn’t hurt enough to tap out. However, a chinlock takes very little effort to apply and all it’s ever going to do is wear someone down, soften them up for later, so there’s no reason to release it unless it’s been in place a while and you want to move onto the next stage, or if you’re up against a time limit. “Raina’s feign” - Raina may have been ‘feigning’ injury, or he might have made a ‘feint’, but personally I consider this an odd use of language. It might be technically correct, I’m not sure, but it doesn’t seem right. The next sequence is good, simple wrestling; Raina’s faster and gets the advantage that way. The focus on Rageheart’s leg is fine, but that sort of vicious focus on a limb (particularly the ‘prop-it-on-the-ropes-and-try-to-break-it’ tactic) is more usually reserved for the heel in a match. See Nitro vs. Hardy at Unforgiven for a recent example. Again, it’s not that it doesn’t make sense for the face to do it, but it doesn’t quite fit with normal wrestling practice, for me. My next problem is purely language-based. If we look at the paragraph beginning ‘Rageheart stands’ we have thirteen sentences, nine of which start with someone’s name. This gives the narrative a choppy, stilted feel which could be avoided by running a few sentences together and using different descriptions for the guys in the ring. Also, crowd reactions are important. It’s an easy thing to say, so here’s how I’d write that paragraph to give an example of what I’d do: MANSON has a plethora of nicknames; use them to avoid repetition. Raina’s got one as well, plus if you refer to him as ‘Scotty’ or ‘Scott’ then it gives a more personal feel, which is suitable as he’s a face and people are meant to identify with him. The SOL/MANSON sequence annoys me, mainly because MANSON isn’t really in a position to be no-selling strikes from anyone except maybe Megan Skye. However, SOL does get him in the end so that’s OK. The SOL/Rageheart sequence is fine, another example of the smaller wrestler using her speed, not to mention risk-taking. “SOL gets to get feet” Sloppy. “Rageheart struggles to his feet buy uses to ropes to stand” Also sloppy. Although I have no real problem with MANSON being dickish with SOL (hell, he’s practically the leader of his own religion), I’m confused as to why SOL’s lowblow didn’t get her disqualified from an elimination match. However, the ensuing beatdown is overkill. MANSON’s fist tearing a hole in her mask is pretty much a no-no, after all masks are important in wrestling. Also, a beatdown of that ferocity is something that should take place in a feud where both parties have agreed to it, or at least in a match where they have history, not in a match where they’ve not wrestled before. Yes, MANSON’s a heel, but he’s also a cagey veteran and he’d be unlikely to get himself DQ’d that cheaply. The Raina/Rageheart final sequence is fine up to where Raina goes to the outside and ‘lands kind of rough’, which is a phrase that grates on me with its conversational nature. Also, for consistency there should have been a referee count while Raina was on the outside, just like for Rageheart and SOL. The Russian legsweep off the apron is a good move, but again, there should have been a count for both men while that was going on and before Rageheart re-entered. It’s not a major thing, but it is consistency. From there, I still have a problem with the language and the repeated (over)use of names, but you also fall down on the end - after Rageheart gets rolled into a small package and misses a clothesline, it’s all Raina; he hits a neckbreaker, a dropkick, a diving dropkick, a bulldog and the Heartbreaker. There’s no ‘race to the finish’ of desperate counters and kickouts - Raina made what would have been a fairly comfortable kickout of a stalling suplex (one-legged? maybe), and then proceeds to take the match home. There’s no drama, no ‘will-he-won’t-he’, no last-gasp desperation, and in the end that’s what leaves the lasting impression. If you think about the wrestling matches you watch, the start can be boring, they might even blow some spots, but if the ending has you going “He’s got him… wait, what? No, he’s going for… he missed it! And now… Jesus, how did he counter that? And… HE’S GOT HIM!”… that’s what generates the pop from the crowd at the end. So anyway, I hope this has been helpful. You lucked out by being put against another writer in your first match instead of getting the ‘warm body welcoming committee’ and they put in a better match than you, but best of luck next time around!

SOL’s match: First of all, a note about the commentators - Mak Francis made his name as a cocky amateur-wrestler turned pro; he varied between face and heel, but was cocky whichever he was. The Suicide King on the other hand is one of THE great heels in the federation’s history, a dirty, conniving, smarmy and cowardly bastard. He won’t generally express a great deal of enthusiasm for anything much, unless it’s seeing a face get his ass handed to him by a heel. He also has a particular affinity for Tom Flesher, who was something of a protégé of his. Nice notion with the scissors-paper-stone to decide who starts the match - a quick bit of ‘gelling’ for the faces. Plus Landon and I used it recently J Not sure about MANSON getting up quicker from the pin than Raina - sure, he’s tough, but Raina’s young and athletic and delivered the most recent move. The ‘Scott’ overload is a nice touch, but again not something I think King would necessarily participate in (or Mak for that matter - he’s possibly a little too cool). Also, I’m not sure about a spear being able to take Rageheart out like that - granted he’s basically a jobber these days, but that was the only move he’d taken in the match so far. However, the sequence leading up to it was good, emphasising Raina’s speed advantage. The elimination of Raina was fine, Rageheart could conceivably be angry enough to interfere and cause the distraction. The repetition of the phrase ‘a jerk and a turn’ about Irish whips was used a little too close together, if you were going to do that I’d have suggested using something like ‘with a jerk and turn of her own’ for slight difference. …and that’s about all I’ve got. I’d like the match longer with it taking more to put each person out (the distraction roll-up was fine, but Rageheart and MANSON are tough customers), but as you can see from the main event I tend to write bloated epics given the chance and conciseness is often a virtue. Overall, I’m sorry I couldn’t offer more constructive criticism, but there wasn’t really a lot there to critique. I’d have done some things differently, but a lot of it is about personal choice of language and familiarity with how things are generally done and the ‘feel’ of this fed rather than any issues per se. I reckon you’ve got a lot of promise! …and if you turn out to be Annie under a mask, I’m going to fly over there and slap you

You can blame ROH for that. I'm going to try and do a more thorough read-through of the show and comment tomorrow evening. However, until then may I say that I am surprised to have won. I won't say shocked, because I did feel I had a good chance - however, Flesher has been THE man for so long that I had my doubts whether the best I had was good enough to take him on PPV at Genesis. It appears that it was, this time at least. Oh, and congrats to SOL. I'll try and do some commentary on your match in particular.

Not one that counts, obviously.

Yeah, but now the Cruiserweight Champion cares about the belt. So it's a win-win situation.

What, and I'm not a cruiser?

And I'm with Muzz. That's a DAMN good picture.

Jake, if you need them I've still got your (well, one set of your) old stats saved on my computer back from when you were my very first opponent ever. In fact, here they are. -------------------------------------------------- Jacob Helmsley Height: 6’6” Weight: 227 lbs Hometown: Calgary, Alberta, Canada Age: 23 yrs old (Birthdate: 1/12/1979) Face/Heel: Heel Stable: None Ring Escort: None Weapon(s): Steel Pipe Looks: Jacob is very muscular. In the ring, he wears black baggy leather pants with green stripes down the sides, no shirt, and arm-bands around his biceps. Jacob has long, dark black hair that goes down to his shoulders. He has green colored eyes with a deep gash down the middle of his left eye. Coming to the ring, Jacob wears a long black trenchcoat with the initials JH in dark green on the back, left front, and on the right bottom of the coat. Ring Entrance: “Meaning of Life” by Disturbed. Jacob does not taunt the crowd at all coming to the ring. Very slow, demonic like walk style. Stats: ¯¯¯¯¯ Strength: 5 (can lift up to 350 lbs) Speed: 4 (Quick on his feet… very few aerial attacks) Vitality: 9 (There is no such thing as putting this man down easily.) Charisma: 2 (Rarely speaks. Gets crowd reactions from his actions, not promos) Style: Technical/Submissive expert. Good hardcore skills. Signature moves: 1. Evenflow DDT - (By this one, I mean the REAL Evenflow, from Raven's old WCW days, and the one in No Mercy. That starts out with a kick to the gut, and then finishes with a DDT in one swift movement… no stalling) 2. Sambo Suplex - Used as a set-up to the "Fear Factor" 3. "Corkscrew" - 360 degree twisting Missile Dropkick - Jacob leaps off of the top rope, twists his body into a spin while keeping his legs outward, and hits the opponent around the upper neck area. 4. "Blackout" - Standing hooking heel kick into reverse Fame Asser - Jacob does the spinning heel kick, and as he kicks him, he wraps him knee around the neck of the opponent, and slams him down for a reverse Fame Asser. Jacob keeps the knee wrapped around the throat of the opponent, for a modified chokehold that frequently KOs the opponent late in the match. 5. Stalling STO (Jacob Stalls for 5-6 seconds, before hitting the STO… the move looks like a cross between the Rock Bottom from No Mercy, and the STO 2 from No Mercy) 6. Top-Rope Inverted Brainbuster 7. "Buzzkill" - Chicken Wing headlock 8. Northern Lights suplex into bridge pin 9. "Soul breaker" - Stalling Dominator - Jacob pulls the opponent into a dominator position, and keeps him there for a Canadian Back breaker for 15-20 seconds. Weather or not the opponent gives up after 20 seconds, Jacob drops the opponent down for the Dominator. 10. Chicken Wing Jawbreaker Common moves: 1. Double Arm DDT 2. Gore into the turnbuckle 3. Rolling Leg-Lock 4. Fisherman’s DDT from the Top Turnbuckle 5. Kneeling Backbreaker (Jacob kneels down, and pulls the opponent down forcefully making his back connect with Jacob’s leg) 6. Russian Leg-Sweep 7. Standing Dragon Sleeper 8. Reverse DDT 9. Top-Rope Hurricanrada 10. Backslide Pin 11. Falling Nackbreaker 12. Guillotine Leg-Drop (when opponent is on a table or flat breakable surface) 13. Belly to Belly Suplex Rare moves: 1. Stalling Hangman's DDT - Jacob sets the opponent up in a powerbomb position, picks him up onto his shoulders, but lets the opponent drape down in front of his chest, in a hanging position. After five to ten seconds, Jacob drops the opponent down on the back of his neck with considerable power. 2. “The Drop from Above” – Stalling reverse Michinoku driver 3. “Downfall” – Powerbomb through a table or the such in Hardcore style matches 4. “Revenge” – Stalling Pedigree 5. “Air Canada” – Top-Rope Phoenix Splash Finishers: Main "Black Stallion" ~ Modified standing Vertebreaker ~ Jacob wraps the opponent’s arms around his back in a standing position so he and the opponent are back to back, like a set-up to a Backslide pin. Jacob then leans forward in a Bridge type position slamming the opponent’s neck onto the mat, and Jacob holds it for a pin. Submissive "The Fear Factor" - a modified Indian Death lock from No Mercy. Instead of dropping to the floor, and getting up again, Jacob drops to his back, and stays down on the ground, gradually increasing pressure on the legs until submission or TKO. Notes: Jacob is one sick puppy. He doesn’t care about anything else except his own personal achievements. He is a total loner. He does not trust anyone, not even his own former close friends. Jacob’s only devotions in life are to his accomplishments and his pipe which is never out of his possession. He will never think twice about injuring anyone, whether in the ring or outside of the ring and has no regrets when the deed has been done.

Clearly, as with your chest in comparison to those of the ladies applying for the same jobs as you... ...size DOES matter. *hugs Alex Shelley and clubs some Madagascan wrestlers*

Wait until tonight when it's due to be posted then. Honestly, old people today. No patience.

I've only just realised that it should have always been 'An Ouctoupus'.

MAIN EVENT SINGLES MATCH "The Superior One" Tom Flesher vs Toxxic (Special Guest Commentator: Janus) Well, you knew this one was coming, eh? Toxxic and Tom Flesher are, to the chagrin of both men, dual number one contenders to Janus' SWF title. The world champ has been back off suspention for a show now, but he has yet to be booked against either man in a defense... and tonight, that remains, as both men fight with the champ on the commentary table. Rules: Singles match. Janus is strongly encouraged to write as well. Word Limit: 6001 Send To: Thoth The cameras return to Storm with the chorus of Fear Factory’s ‘Resurrection’ blasting out over the PA system and the fans shitting all over the arrival of the World Heavyweight Champion. However, Janus takes no notice of his hostile reception beyond a slight curl of his lip at the weak, pathetic fools who shout at him from all sides, and advances down the entrance ramp towards the commentary desk where Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley are sitting. “Citizens, we are about to be joined by a true monster,” Comet observes. “The man who attempted to seriously injure Alan Clark on Smarkdown when he used a move perhaps best left forgotten.” Bobby Riley starts to say something... but stops, as the huge Australian takes a seat beside him and puts on a pair of headphones. “Janus,” Comet says, addressing the World Champion directly, “what right did you have to use the Demonstar Driver on Alan Clark? How could you-” “Right?” Janus asks curiously. “I wanted to, and I could. If you feel my actions were wrong, Comet, you have only to say so.” “I would,” Comet answers defiantly, “but the SWF relies on me to do my job tonight, and I could not do it if I was engaged in combat with you!” “He can hardly do it anyway!” Riley protests, trying to defuse the tension. Janus stares at Comet for a few seconds longer, then leans back on his chair (which makes an ominous creaking noise). However, everyone’s attention is distracted as the Smarktron blacks out, and while the crunching guitars of Lostprophets’ ‘We Still Kill The Old Way’ ring out over the HSBC Arena jagged white letters flash up: ‘PREPARE TO BE PROVED WRONG...’ The shot changes, showing Toxxic taking Mike Van Siclen off a balcony and through a table with the Toxxic Shock Syndrome, the devastating landing timed to coincide with the- ‘GO!’ *BOOOM!!* -explosion of red pyro announcing the arrival of the SWF’s premier straight-edger! Clips from different matches start to flash up and as the smoke begins to drift the shape of the man himself becomes visible. Toxxic strides forward with Jet at his side and pauses at the bottom of the ramp to snap his head from side-to-side while his girlfriend talks steadily to him. “Ladies and gentlemen, the next match is tonight’s MAIN EVENT~ and is scheduled for one fall!” Funyon booms. “Introducing first, accompanied to the ring by Jet; from Nottingham, England; weighing in at 218lbs, he is the leader of Revolution Zero... the ‘Straight-Edge Sensation’... TOXX-IIIC!!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” The fans in attendance are not fond of the British rookie but Toxxic just grins as he rolls under the ropes into the ring, ascends the nearest turnbuckle and spreads his arms wide. Tonight he gets the chance to prove a little something to Tom Flesher... and maybe to the watching Hell Machine as well. “Janus - care to give us your thoughts on Toxxic, one of your two contenders?” Comet asks in a brittle but civil voice. The Hell Machine leans forward slightly in response and raises one hand to stroke his goatee. “I’m thinking that although I have beaten that man twice, I’ve never pinned him or made him submit,” the big Australian rumbles. “I think I should rectify that error soon.” “And how does the fact that he beat Nathaniel Kibagami come into play?” Comet asks, chancing his arm. “Given that Silent’s repeated beatings of you-” “Enough,’ the Hell Machine growls through gritted teeth, the unspoken threat bringing even the heroic commentator up short. “Toxxic has learned from his encounters with the Silent One, that is obvious,” Janus continues in a forced, clipped voice, “but he will not have learned how to defeat me.” *BOOOOOM!* Before Comet can goad the big man into physical violence an explosion of blue pyro and smoke lights up the arena, and Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir” begins to blare over the speakers! The smoke clears, and Tom Flesher walks out in his blue warm-up suit. Next to him is Allison Onita, wearing a pair of low blue lowriders and a blue crop-top. She escorts him through the smoke and they walk forward together, fireworks going off in the background. Tonight, however, something is different. There are some boos, to be sure, but as they enter the ring there is also an audible chant... “TAAAAAAAA-MO...” “TAAAAAAAA-MO...” “TAAAAAAAA-MO...” Flesher grins and he and Allison strike a pose, The Superior One holding his chin and smirking, Onita curling up against him so close that it’s hard to tell where one stops and the other begins. The music fades, and Funyon begins his announcement. “Currently in the ring…” Flesher smirks, and Funyon sighs before drawing a card from his front pocket. “...not only one of the most talented technical wrestlers in the SWF, but also the world. He has amassed an astounding record of 79 wins, 29 losses and 2 draws. He has held the SWF World Championship twice, and will soon do so again. He is also one of only two men to have managed two wins over Toxxic... and tonight, he will become the ONLY man to beat him three times. Weighing in at a perfectly-formed 230 pounds, he stands before you as the NEXT SWF World Heavyweight Champion… the SUPERIOR ONE, TOM FLESHER!!!!!!” “We’ll see about that...” Janus is heard to mutter. “And while I’m at it, I’ll show him how you really do an ADF II.” “On Toxxic, I hope?” Riley asks, a note of pleading in his voice. “I’m thinking a two-for-one deal...” the Hell Machine rumbles menacingly. Flesher applauds Funyon’s announcement, ignorant of Janus’ bloodthirsty plans, while Toxxic stares contemptuously and even Anthony Michael Hall looks dubious. Allison strips Tom’s warm-up suit off his body and exits the ring while the Superior One stretches out before the bell, smiling around at his hometown fans. *DING-DING-DING!* No sooner has the start of the match been signalled than Toxxic sprints across the few feet separating him from Flesher and lashes out with his right arm, dropping the Superior One with a clothesline! Flesher pops back up immediately, visibly angry at being caught off-guard, but before he can set himself the Straight-Edge Sensation has reversed directions and is flying through the air once more, this time taking his opponent down with a spinning heel kick! Flesher takes half a second longer to regroup after that and his mat instincts automatically cause him to roll over onto his front to prevent the pinning situation - unfortunately that places his head in the perfect position for a- *WHAM!!* -basement dropkick, as both of Toxxic’s feet crash into his skull! Flesher rolls backwards and sideways, coming up into a protective stance and glaring out at the straight-edger… who stands grinning in the middle of the ring and has the nerve to spread his arms innocently. “What?” If looks could maim then Toxxic would be spending the rest of his life owing money to plastic surgeons, but as it is Flesher’s furious stare has no effect on the cocky Brit. Meanwhile the fans in Buffalo start to let their feelings known again… “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “Toxxic manages to get the upper hand at the start through sheer speed,” Comet exclaims in surprise, “but I can tell you now that Citizen Flesher won’t be caught with his pants down again!” “I’d like to catch- ” “Robert Riley, if you don’t stop that sentence THIS MINUTE I will give you SUCH a smack!!” Flesher’s eyes narrow, anger and embarrassment at being surprised by the rookie colouring his cheeks. He cares nothing for the fans of course, but it is still pleasant when they acknowledge his superiority. On this occasion however it meant he was not fully prepared when the bell rang - a mistake that he will not make a second time. He sets himself deliberately, waiting for his opponent to make the next move... and Toxxic casually raises one black-nailed hand and, with an expression of boredom on his face, waves Flesher in with a ‘come on’ motion! “BOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Toxxic is playing a truly dangerous game,” Comet declares. “He is trying to maintain the psychological advantage, but if he allows Flesher in close then it could be all over very quickly!” “What do you mean, ‘could be’?” Riley asks scathingly. “He won’t LET him close,” Janus says with certainty. “Flesher may force his hand, however.” The Superior One seems intent on doing just that as he advances towards the straight-edger who seems unaware that he’s being backed into a corner... then Toxxic comes up against the turnbuckle and looks around in apparent surprise, and Flesher makes his move. The two-time World Champion rushes in, drawing his right arm back for perhaps a running shotei - but at the last moment Toxxic jumps up to the second buckle, vaults over the top of the onrushing Flesher and stamps on the back of the head on the way past, dropping and rolling when he reaches the mat as the Superior One collides with the buckles! “BOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “A ruse!” Comet exclaims as Flesher spins around, rubbing the back of his head and with murder in his eyes. “Toxxic suckered Flesher in and used his speed to outmanoeuvre his opponent again - if he can keep this up then he might be able to wear the Superior One down whilst avoiding Citizen Flesher’s deadly mat skills!” “Wear him down?” Riley scoffs. “It’s going to be Toxxic doing the running about, not Flesher! Besides, Tom has amazing stamina, Comet. Amazing.” “...I don’t want to know.” Tom Flesher strides forward, looking to get in close with the rookie and dislocate a few joints, but the Straight-Edge Sensation is infuriatingly unwilling to comply. He backs away when Flesher advances and squirms sideways when the Superior One lunges for him, all the while wearing his lopsided grin and exhorting Tom to greater efforts. “STAND STILL!” *clap-clap-clap* “STAND STILL!” *clap-clap-clap* “STAND STILL!” *clap-clap-clap* Toxxic’s grin widens as he listens to the Buffalo crowd’s protests. Right now he’s having the time of his life making Flesher look stupid in front of his hometown audience and is in no mood to oblige them - but Flesher’s patience, already rapidly thinning, snaps. When Toxxic dodges sideways again the Superior One anticipates his movement and- *SMACK!* -sends a jaw-rattling shotei into the straight-edger’s face! Toxxic staggers into the ropes as the Buffalo crowd finally has something to cheer about, and Flesher allows himself a small smile as he follows up. But lately Toxxic is used to being in the ring with feared strikers like Kibagami, Williams and Drazon so he welcomes the chance to start a brawl against someone near his own level, and Flesher walks straight into a- RIGHT! LEFT! RIGHT! LEFT! Windup... DISCUS CLOTHESLINE... ...ducked! Having used Toxxic’s signature combination on Ced in his last match the Superior One knows what’s coming and manages to get his head together enough to duck the final blow, then as Toxxic’s momentum carries him around again Flesher slaps on a rear waistlock! “But you can’t ‘German’ Toxxic!” Comet calls warningly. *WHAM!!* “Oh. Apparently you can.” “If you’re Tom Flesher, and if you’re smart enough to use a non-release version,” Riley adds smugly as Tom rolls away, not bothering to retain the bridge for the pin. “I’d like to see him flip out of the Sydney Harbour Bridge...” is Janus’ menacing comment. Toxxic is no mat genius like his opponent, but even he knows enough to roll over onto his front. This doesn’t help him against Flesher however, as the Superior One takes a second to clear his head from the straight-edger’s punches and his own recent exertion before dropping on the rising Toxxic to clamp on a front facelock. The startled Brit attempts to scoot backwards, but Flesher tightens his grip and anchors his spiky-haired opponent in place while Allison Onita does her best to rally the crowd behind her man. “TAAAAAAA-MO...” “TAAAAAAA-MO...” “TAAAAAAA-MO...” The Buffalo crowd responds, but how much of that is for Flesher and how much for Allison’s lowriders is open to debate. Meanwhile on the other side of the ring Jet looks over contemptuously at her counterpart’s actions, although not without partaking of a little light ogling herself... before remembering her job and banging on the apron to encourage her boyfriend. “You see, Comet?” Riley asks, predictably ignoring the bevy of beauties on show at ringside. “Toxxic blew his load too soon and now Flesher’s back on top, where he always ends up!” Even the detached, psychopathic Hell Machine shudders at that unbidden mental image. “...Sweet Zombie Jesus...” Comet whimpers, digging his fingers into his mask as he tries to shut out horrors not witnessed since he accidentally clicked on a link to SUMA. Toxxic is blissfully unaware of Riley’s “commentary”, but thirty seconds have passed with him still trapped in Flesher’s vicelike grip and the pressure in his temples is starting to build. His mat technique isn’t up to breaking the Superior One’s hold by traditional means, but although reluctant to cheat the rookie isn’t above digging his fingers into someone’s face if the situation calls for it. He reaches forward with his right arm, black nails seeking Flesher’s eyes... and Tom grabs his wrist and bends it up behind his back in a hammerlock! With this leverage available Flesher releases his facelock and swiftly slides his right arm underneath Toxxic’s left before flipping the Straight-Edge Sensation over onto his back into the By-The-Numbers pin. ONE! TWO! -but Toxxic flails his legs and manages to wrench his body off the mat, although his right arm is evidently pained at breaking the hammerlock in this way. Flesher attempts to retain his grip on the straight-edger’s left arm but Toxxic manages to whip it away, then simply swivels on his back and lashes out with both feet at the crouching Superior One’s head! Tom manages to block the attack slightly with his hands but it is still enough to knock him back and down, and Toxxic uses the respite to drag himself backwards and start to get to his feet. Unfortunately for the straight-edger the pounding in his temples is virtually unabated and he has to take a couple of seconds to clear his head, by which time Flesher is up and closing in again. Unable to go on the offensive directly Toxxic simply uses his speed to sidestep and drive a knee up into the Superior Stomach, and with the extra second’s grace that grants him he manages to recover enough to apply his own front facelock to the wheezing Buffalo native! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Toxxic grins as he tightens his grip - but really, he should have stuck to flip-flopping around the ring as Tom braces his legs wide and arches backwards, bringing the Straight-Edge Sensation over in a Northern Lights Suplex and causing Michael Hall to hit the canvas and count the fall! ONE! TWO!! ...but Toxxic manages to roll his shoulder off the mat again, although he can’t get away from the tenacious Superior One who jumps onto the retreating rookie’s back in a mount position and begins slamming shotei after shotei into the back of his head. “You see?” Riley demands. “Tom has shown that he can do Toxxic’s moves, but if Toxxic’s tries to wrestle Flesher’s style he’s going down!” “Citizen Riley, you know what your contract says about using the words ‘Flesher’ and ‘going down’ in the same sentence,” Com reprimands his partner. Having battered the back of Toxxic’s skull Flesher decides to shift up a gear, so he reaches forward in order to try and hook in the Superior Stretch Beta! Toxxic desperately fights him off, but the Superior One merely changes his method again and grabs the rookie’s arms before rolling forward in a Gedo Clutch! ONE! TWO! Toxxic manages to squirm out of the pinning predicament but still ends up on his back on the mat with Tom Flesher closing in on him again. The Brit desperately kicks up at his tormentor but Flesher catches the right leg over his shoulder, so the straight-edger brings his left leg up to apply a form of vertical headscissors and before the Superior One can react he pushes himself up so his entire body is balanced on the top of his skull. He then rotates his upper body 180 degrees and uses the leverage this gives him to bring Flesher over and down to the mat! Flesher takes a moment to rise to his feet but Toxxic’s shotei’d head wasn’t fond of being used as a spinning top, and the rookie is again left with a pounding skull and a momentary inability to react that allows Tom to approach him again and reach down to hook him up for something else... ...but Toxxic gets him in a small package! ONE! TWO!! Flesher breaks the pin easily once the momentary surprise has worn off but Toxxic is quicker to his feet, and the rookie dives over the top of his opponent before the Superior One is fully upright and brings him down with an Oklahoma Roll! ONE! TWO!! Flesher rolls out of the pin again and starts to rise, but eager to keep his opponent busy and help his own head clear Toxxic desperately dives over Tom’s back to bring him down with a sunset flip! ONE! TWO!! Flesher slams his legs into Toxxic’s temples, and the renewed assault on his aching head forces the straight-edger to break the pin. He has also succeeded in thoroughly annoying his opponent, so when Tom gets his feet back on the ground he wastes no time in driving up and forwards to plant his shoulder in the rising straight-edger’s stomach and dump him on his back with a blast double-leg takedown! With his gameplan now firmly decided Flesher reaches forward to apply a front facelock again and wrench Toxxic’s head clean off his shoulders- “Aaargh!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” -but this time Toxxic’s fingers find the eyes of the Superior One, and Tom rolls off his opponent desperately swatting at his face! “Disqualify him ref!” Riley shouts from the announce table. “That’s disgraceful!” “Toxxic is trying to play Flesher’s game again,” Janus rumbles, sounding amused. “He’s having more luck this time, but trying to out-cheat Tom is generally futile.” However questionable the move was it has given Toxxic the opening he needs, and the anger the straight-edger feels at being reduced to such methods has a target in the form of the former World Champion he shares the ring with. Flesher is spun around, eyes still watering and- *WHAM!* -receives a European Uppercut to the jaw as the Straight-Edge Sensation looks to make someone suffer for making him appear weak. The Superior One staggers backwards and gets two more for his pains... *WHAM!* *WHAM!* ...which drive him back onto the ropes before Toxxic grabs his wrist and whips Flesher across the ring. The hometown (semi)hero manages to reverse the momentum and lowers his head for a back bodydrop as Toxxic rebounds off the ropes but- *CRUNCH-WHAM!!* -merely finds his face bouncing off Toxxic’s knee and then being driven into the mat as the straight-edger hits the Sobering Thought, this time not hanging onto the front facelock long enough for Flesher to counter but falling backwards immediately into the DDT. It’s now Allison’s turn to look distraught and start pounding the ring apron as the rejuvenated Toxxic hauls his opponent up, drives a right hand into Flesher’s jaw and attempts to whip him into the far turnbuckles. Flesher again manages to reverse the momentum and sends Toxxic in instead... but that was exactly what the Straight-Edge Sensation was aiming for as he vaults to the top rope and comes flying back at the Superior One with the diving clothesline known as the Role Reversal! Both men end up on their backs for a second after impact - then Toxxic’s legs coil under his chin and the rookie kips up explosively, grinning cockily out at the Buffalo crowd! “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “Just look at the arrogance displayed here,” Comet sighs as Toxxic taunts the fans briefly before turning his attention back to Tom Flesher. “You could almost imagine that the two men in the ring were related.” Toxxic twines his fingers in Flesher’s short, red-blonde hair and brings the Superior One painfully to his feet, ignoring Michael Hall’s admonishments. The straight-edger moves 90 degrees to his right, setting his opponent up, then places his head under the dazed Flesher’s chin and sits out to deliver a devastating jawbreaker! Flesher drops flat to his back, perfectly aligned for what Toxxic has in mind next as the rookie steps through the ropes, rubbing the top of his head as it dawns on him that using it as a weapon wasn’t the smartest thing to do... and raises three fingers over his head. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Even in Buffalo there are a few people prepared to cheer the bad guy (well, it did produce Tom Flesher after all) and so as the straight-edger begins his next move the local Heel Section sing along, calling out the words as Toxxic vaults to the top rope... “MONDO!” ...to the turnbuckles... “AKIMBO!” ...MOONSAULT! “A-GO-GO!” *WHAM!!* The Straight-Edge Sensation arcs through the air and slams into the prone body of Tom Flesher as the camera flashes go off. The impact blasts the breath from Toxxic for a moment but he quickly reaches out to hook the far leg... ONE! TWO!! TH- -but Tom Flesher kicks out with some force, and Toxxic looks slightly disappointed as he sits back. “Despite his prodigious and precocious talent Toxxic still sometimes shows his inexperience,” Comet notes. “Instead of continuing his successful work on Citizen Flesher’s head he went for the showy Triple-Jump Moonsault - it looks good, but affects an entirely different area of the body!” “And that’s what separates him from Tom,” Riley asserts. “Tom knows exactly what he’s doing at all times-” “-and he will do right up until I drop him on his head,” Janus cuts in. “It’s going to take more than three-dozen varieties of headlock to take my Championship from me.” Perhaps deciding that he needs to adopt a more simplistic approach, Toxxic straddles his opponent (earning Bobby Riley’s undying envy as he does so) and rears back to start hammering down right hands. The first one smashes into Flesher’s cheekbone, the Superior One gets his hands up to block the second and the third- -then Toxxic suddenly realises that Flesher’s legs are wrapped around his midsection and the Superior One has grabbed his left arm in a desperate attempt to stall the attack and counter by locking on the Triangle Choke! Having tasted that move when executed by Nathaniel Kibagami Toxxic doesn’t waste a second in throwing himself sideways and stretching with his right arm to reach the ropes... and does so! Flesher tries his best to lock the move in so he can get some sort of revenge before he has to break the hold, but Michael Hall’s count is unrelenting and the Superior One reluctantly releases just before ‘Five’ and rolls away. Toxxic is quicker to his feet and advances on Flesher to regain the initiative, but he walks straight into a- *SMACK!* -shotei from the rising Superior One, who then clamps on a front facelock and hoists the straight-edger in the air before dropping him down gut-first over the top rope! “LET’S GO FLESH-ER!” *clap clap clap-clap-clap* “LET’S GO FLESH-ER!” *clap clap clap-clap-clap* Flesher does not follow up immediately but backs off instead - Toxxic’s burst of offence was fast and effective, his head is hurting him badly and he needs a couple of moments to collect his thoughts. Even his legendary confidence is shaken slightly, and the Superior One no longer feels confident in trying to keep his high-flying opponent grounded. So as Toxxic finishes bouncing on the top rope and falls to the canvas Tom decides to step-up his own offence and readies himself for a charge! “It’s on its way, Comet,” Riley says. Toxxic is starting to pull himself up, holding his stomach and looking around for his opponent. “What is?” the masked man asks. Riley takes a deep breath as Flesher sprints across the ring... “YAAAAAKUUUUUZZZZZAAAAAAA KIIIIIII-oh...” ...but Toxxic ducks! Flesher pulls up short, trying to twist round to keep his eye on his opponent, and Toxxic takes a one-step sideways run-up and lashes out with a superkick- *WHAP!* -but Flesher catches it! For a moment the Superior One merely smirks at his opponent, then throws the boot away from him and watches Toxxic twirl a full circle on one foot. As the straight-edger comes back around Flesher steps smartly up, grabs his opponent at shoulder and waist and- *WHAM!!* “YEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!” “Logical Disconnect!” Riley yells in delight as Toxxic’s skull bounces off the canvas. “If Flesher’s hit that, it must be teatime in Siberia!” The Superior One rolls over to hooks Toxxic’s leg and Michael Hall drops down to make the count as the HSBC Arena chants Flesher’s name... ONE! TWO!! THRREEE-NOOOOOOOOOO! It’s close, but Toxxic manages to get the shoulder up! The Superior One is visibly displeased at Hall’s count and demonstrates the one-two-three that he’d have liked to see, but the official is unrepentant and tells Flesher to get on with the match. Muttering under his breath, Flesher obliges... in his own fashion, of course. “That’s a choke!” Comet protests as the Superior Hand starts to constrict the Straight-Edge Windpipe. “Has Tom Flesher been reduced to this?” “He hasn’t been reduced to anything,” Riley argues as Flesher looks up at the fuming Michael Hall and protests his innocence while his right hand squeezes tighter. “This is a brilliant and deliberate strategy on the part of the Superior One. Toxxic can’t jump around if he can’t breathe!” “Oh, I couldn’t agree more,” Janus says, “and just think, Bobby; if I face these two in a Triple Threat match then there is no disqualification, and therefore no reason why I can’t squeeze Toxxic and Flesher until their eyes pop out.” That silences Bobby Riley (for the moment at least) and Michael Hall’s five-count finally persuades Tom Flesher that he should allow Toxxic some air. The Buffalo native stands up and turns away from his opponent - ‘accidentally’ dragging the heel of his Doc Marten down the straight-edger’s face as he does so - and backs away while Michael Hall gives him a stern lecture. Unfortunately this means that the referee’s gaze is turned away from the wheezing rookie on the canvas, and there is therefore nothing to stop Allison Onita from reaching out with her handbag strap and choking Toxxic some more... *THUNK!* ...nothing, that is, except for the fact that Jet has picked up a chair from beside Funyon and has ‘casually’ whacked it into the ringpost. The noise attracts Allison’s attention and she instantly backs away from the younger girl, every line of her body suggesting that it would have been a freak and regrettable coincidence if any item belonging to her had happened to come into contact with Jet’s boyfriend, oh dear me yes... Meanwhile Flesher sees over Hall’s shoulder that his opponent is not being satisfactorily asphyxiated and moves forward to take control of events again. “TAAAAAAAAA-MO...” “TAAAAAAAAA-MO...” “TAAAAAAAAA-MO...” Flesher brings Toxxic up and sends a shotei into his opponent’s face to stagger him, then blasts one into the straight-edger’s stomach. Toxxic folds up and slumps backwards, landing in a seated position at the base of the turnbuckles where Flesher steps up, places the side of his Doc on the rookie’s cheek and almost takes Toxxic’s head off with a nasty bootscrape! As the crowd respond with mixed reactions - half cheering, half going “OOOHHHHH...” - Flesher steps up for a repeat performance, this time almost needing to scrape Toxxic’s facial features from the sole of his boot upon completion! “That’ll smudge his eyeliner!” Riley cackles. The Superior One backs up a few steps, smiling smugly, and bounces on the spot a couple of time, evidently limbering up for something. He slaps his right thigh a couple of times, takes a couple of theatrical deep breaths and charges in, looking to deliver a brutal running version that would surely leave the rookie requiring reconstructive surgery... but Toxxic half-ducks, half-falls to one side and Flesher merely finds himself making an intimate acquaintance with the middle rope! The Superior Package is only mildly compressed by its arrival and Flesher does not suffer any undue groinal trauma, but Toxxic manages to hook an arm between his opponent’s legs and bring the Superior One over into a schoolboy pin! ONE! TWO!! THR- Kickout! Flesher rolls back up to his feet and lunges forward, snaring the still-dazed rookie in a front facelock and dragging him backwards to the centre of the ring with a smug grin on his face. “What’s coming up now?” Riley asks with interest. “Superiority Complex? Brainbuster?” Flesher reaches down and hooks Toxxic’s right leg from the inside. “No,” Comet replies quietly. “Caffeine Bomb.” With a look around at his home crowd the Superior One hoists his opponent upwards, seeking to drop Toxxic with his own finisher for the second time... but in mid-air the straight-edger twists! He squirms out of Flesher’s grip, lands behind him and manages to hook in a Dragon sleeper on the way down! “Reversed!” Comet yells. “Toxxic could get the Repeat To Fade hooked in here!” But Toxxic doesn’t go for the hammerlock and bodyscissors - instead he starts to push forwards and down, looking to drive Flesher onto his front and apply the Superior Stretch Beta! He manages to get the Superior One down to his knees but then Flesher’s desperately scrabbling hands manage to pry Toxxic’s arm open just enough to squeeze his head out and he scrambles away! “Merciful Zeus!” Comet seethes. “When will these two stop trying to show each other up with their opponent’s moves and try winning the match?” “They seem to care more about each other than about me and my title,” Janus comments. “And that will cost them.” Toxxic lunges forward, looking to regain the advantage, but Flesher simply slams another shotei into the side of the straight-edger’s head before Irish whipping him into the ropes. The Brit rebounds and Flesher grabs him under the arms, looking to bring him over with the Railgun suplex... but Flesher is tired too and he doesn’t hook it quite as well as he might, with the result that Toxxic is able to somersault forward through the move- *THWAP!* -and land, albeit somewhat unsteadily, on his feet. “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” Flesher scrambles up off the mat in an attempt to shut the rookie down before Toxxic can get any room to manoeuvre, but the Straight-Edge Sensation is already moving. Before Tom is even fully upright Toxxic launches himself along the mat, slicing into Flesher’s shins and sending the former World Champion head-over-heels. The Superior One is up straight away again, but he’s hobbling now. And Toxxic manages to double-underhook Flesher’s arms before bringing him UP... ...AROUND... ...AND... ...DOWN! *WHAM!!* “Toxxic Shock Syndrome!” Comet calls as the entire HSBC Arena groans. “Toxxic could be about to defeat Flesher in his hometown!” “No!” Riley screams. “Don’t let it happen! Hall, if you count this...” The rookie lies beside the prone Flesher for a couple of seconds, desperately trying to clear his head after the pounding he’s taken and the last-gasp exertion of the Toxxic Shock Syndrome. Only then does he manage to muster the effort to roll the Superior One onto his back and drape an arm over for the cover. ONE! TWO!! THHHRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! “RRRRRRRAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!” “Flesher kicks out,” Comet yells above the din, “and Buffalo is behind him now!” Toxxic stares up at Michael Hall with pleading in his black-rimmed eyes, but the official sticks to his original decision and it starts to dawn on Toxxic that last-gasp was not enough. So he slowly pushes himself to his feet again, wearily twirls two fingers over his head and heads for the nearest turnbuckle. Meanwhile, Flesher has made no move since kicking out of the pin. “It looks like Toxxic could be going for the Hangover here,” Comet notes as the straight-edger heads up top, “and after the Toxxic Shock Syndrome it could finish the job...” ...but Flesher has other ideas! As Toxxic reaches the apex of his climb Tom starts to rise; in the process he ‘accidentally’ grabs onto Michael Hall for support and ‘accidentally’ sends the referee into the ring ropes, an event that causes Toxxic to lose his precarious footing and land crotch-first astride the top buckle! “FLESH-ER! FLESH-ER! FLESH-ER!” Jet is screaming at Hall, but the referee can’t prove that Flesher’s actions were intentional. His possum act didn’t actually involve that much acting - he’s finding it difficult to stand unaided, but the Superior One makes it to the corner and starts to climb, reaching the second rope and placing Toxxic in a front facelock! “Boilermaker!” Riley exults. “Drop him Tom! Drop him like your towel at bathtime!” Flesher sets himself and tries to lift, but his attempts are impeded by Toxxic desperately driving a fist into his ribs! The blow winds the Superior One, and as he tries to get his breath back Toxxic fires off another... and another... Tom is forced to release the facelock and the straight-edger sits up and nails his opponent in the face with a European Uppercut, causing Flesher to topple unsteadily! Janus leans forward, red eyes fixed intently on events. Flesher is out of his element and only barely holding on. Toxxic takes his chance to swing his feet over the top rope until they rest on the middle cable next to the Superior One’s, then with his new improved leverage he reaches down... and hooks Flesher’s right leg from the inside. “No...” Comet whispers. “Not this!” Riley squeals. Janus just laughs. With one last, almighty effort Toxxic forces his tired muscles to lift 230lbs of egomaniac off the second buckle, jumping forwards and dropping as he does so. It isn’t crisp, and it isn’t clean. But it does drop Tom Flesher right on his head in the middle of the HSBC Arena. *BAM!* The leg is already cradled for the fall. And as Michael Hall drops to make the count the Hell Machine rises from his seat at the announce desk. ONE! TWO!! THREE! *DING-DING-DING!* “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” The crunching guitars of Lostprophets ring out over the HSBC Arena, mingling with jeers from the fans and Bobby Riley’s whimperings. Toxxic slumps backwards, exhausted almost to the point of collapse by his efforts - but he has done it. He has beaten Tom Flesher. And the lopsided grin creeps over his features again. A grin that disappears as a black fingerless-gloved hand reaches down and clamps around his throat. “Is there any need for this?” Comet yells in frustration as Janus hauls Toxxic up. “Sure, kill each other, but do it in a match!” The Hell Machine isn’t listening however, and with one surge of powerful muscles he hoists the Straight-Edge Sensation nine feet into the air before driving him down to the canvas with a monstrous chokeslam! Janus isn’t satisfied and reaches down to do more damage but Jet slides through the ropes and grabs Toxxic’s foot, towing him back out of the ring before the huge Australian can attack again. Red eyes blazing, the Hell Machine turns in search of his other challenger only to find that Allison has performed the same service for Tom Flesher. Deprived of his chance to inflict lasting damage Janus settles for unclipping the World Title from his waist, raising it above his head and roaring his defiance at anyone who would seek to take it from him, as we FADE OUT © SWF 2004

14,588. Janus, I'm aware you hate me, but now everyone may understand why Z was always in such a bad mood. Every PPV, he caught one of these to mark.

I like this very much. Given that when I first approached you about handling the Drake character you said you weren't sure about being able to write the menacing promos, I think you've got the hang of it pretty well! And Gabe calling Maddix down on his grammar is awesome. Just awesome.