Ace309

Earlier today… Ben Hardy is backstage, outside a locker room that has the words “Hardcore Champ” scrawled on a piece of paper and then duct taped to it. Hardy looks like the kind of guy who would rather not do what he’s about to do, but has to follow orders cause he doesn’t have the “Austin Gene” in him. Ben Hardy: I’m standing here outside Bruce Blank’s dressing room and I’m going to try and get a few words from him. As he puts his hand on the door he hears music playing from inside the room, but it’s not Lynyrd Skynyrd as you’d expect, instead it’s ”Wake me up before you go-go” Ben Hardy: Is that Wham? ”Take me dancing tonight I wanna hit that high (yeah, yeah)” Ben quickly opens the door to see Bruce Blank in there, singing along to Wham and dancing like he’s George Michael and this is the mid 80ties. Bruce: You take the grey skies out of my way You make the sun shine brighter than Doris Day Turned a bright spark into… Bruce has turned around and sees Ben Hardy with his crew. He quickly kicks the CD player to shut it up as the camera guy snickers at him. Bruce: You didn’t see nothing! Ben Hardy: But I Bruce: I said – you didn’t see NOTHING! Got me? Bruce clenches a fist and looks at Ben, of course he is not aware that they are currently live on TV. Ben Hardy: You’re absolutely right Bruce Bruce: Good Ben Hardy: I did not see you singing and dancing to Wham Bruce: Alright get to the point. What do you want? Ben Hardy: Just a few words with the Hardcore Gamer’s Champion, specifically about Genesis? Bruce: Genesis huh? They’re not my kind of band although I did laugh at the video to “land of confusion” – boy howdy that was funny Ben just stands there in awkward silence for a moment, then decides to tell Bruce what he really meant. Ben Hardy: I meant Genesis VI, the SWF PPV. Bruce: Oh… I knew that. Right then the PPV – Well it seems that everybody is scared of Bruce, they run away, wet their pants when I come to town. Just look at tonight, am I booked? Naw cause no one wants to get hurt by me. Ben Hardy: Maybe they didn’t think you fit the Family Friendly image? Bruce: Heh – they’d be right. It doesn’t matter, what does matter is the 20 pounds of gold around my waist. Bruce pads his waist, then looks down to discover that he’s not wearing the Hardcore title. Ben Hardy: Bru.. Bruce holds up a finger to shush Hardy, then he goes over to the bench, picks up the Hardcore title and staps it on. After an adjustment he returns and looks at the camera. Bruce: What matters is the 20 pounds of gold around my waist This time he pads the gold Bruce: Which is a MAN’S title, not some flyweight belt that you win in a 3 way with a stinkbug and a daddy long legs! Ben Hardy: I wouldn’t let J.J. Johnson hear you say that, he’s very proud of his title. Bruce: Well good for him, maybe one day after you eat your veggies and drink your milk and grow up I’ll let you touch the belt of a MAN. But back to Genesis, I’m throwing out an open challenge, I’m not one to just sit on my keester. Ben Hardy: An open challenge?? Bruce: Yup – just step up to the plate. Bruce does not notice that the current SWF Cruiserweight champion J.J. Johnson has entered the locker room and is standing right behind Bruce Blank as he talks. Ben Hardy: Anyone at all? Even another champion? Bruce: Anyone at *is tapped on the shoulder* all… Bruce turns around and at first looks straight over the top of J.J. being 6’7’’ and all. Bruce: Hello?? Johnson just looks at him for a moment, not revealing a hit of emotion or amusement. He does not suffer fools easily and he’s sure that Bruce is a fool. Bruce: Who’s there? I hear someone ta.. *looks doown* Oh hello little boy, have you lost your mommy?? JJ doesn’t even respond, but you can tell that he’s getting very worked up, his whole body is tensed up, his muscles flexing a bit as he just stands there looking at the Hardcore champion. Bruce: You want a wolly pop? JJ keeps staring at Bruce, the only thing that gives away his agitated state is the vein on the side of his neck and his eyes that have a very sinister look about them. Bruce: Cat got your tongue? Bruce laughs at his own joke as just Johnson turns his back to Bruce and is about to walk away Bruce: Yeah you better ru.. SUPA KICK~~!! Johnson nails Bruce right in the throat knocking the big man back into the lockers denting them as his head and shoulders ram them before sinking to the ground holding his throat gasping for air. JJ turns around and then walks off with a smirk on his face as Bruce tries to yell at him but it comes out as gasps instead Bruce: This *cough* this ain’t over!! *gasps for air* when I get you in the ring *gasps for air* you’ll be nothing but a stain on the canvas!! * Fade out before Bruce can say something that’d cost him a fine under the Family Friendly rules *

“Wildchild,” says Ben Hardy, chasing after the Bahama Bomber, “could I have a word with you?” Wildchild comes to a stop, and turns around to face Ben. “Oui, monsieur Hardy. How can I help you?” “Wildchild, we understand that Johnny Dangerous apologized to you earlier tonight for his actions last week. Are you just going to let it go at that?” “Why shouldn’t I?” asks Wildchild. “Johnny is my friend; I know dat he’s been under a lot of pressure lately, an’ he’s been extra stressed out since losing de World Heavyweight Title… It wasn’t somet’in dat he did personal against me.” “Are you sure about that?” challenges Hardy. “There’s been rumors backstage that Johnny thinks that you’ve gone soft, that you might even be holding him back… how do you respond to those accusations?” Wildchild rolls his eyes. “I don’ respond, Benjy, dat’s how I respond. None of dese people who are saying t’ings about Wild an’ Dangerous actually know anyt’ing about Wild an’ Dangerous. I’m not concerned about what other people t’ink is going on between us; I know dat Johnny has my back!” “But Wildchild,” asks Ben, “how can you say that for certain, with some of Johnny’s behavior here in recent months? It’s not just him kicking you last week that came to our attention… what about the blatant interference in matches, leaving you on your own to get attacked…” “Look, Benjy,” interrupts Wildchild. “Hold it right dere. You don’ understand… Johnny is my friend. He saved my life… Dat’s right; he saved my life! I’m gon’ give him de benefit of de doubt. If he says dat he was under stress, I believe him. If he says dat he’s done acting like dat, den I believe him. None of de people who are saying dese t’ings knows Johnny better den I do, so pardon me if I don’ let dem influence my t’inking much!” “So you’re not the least bit concerned about his temper?” asks Ben. “You’re not worried about what happens the next time things don’t quite go his way?” “Johnny’s my friend,” insists Wildchild. “If dere’s somet’in in his mind, we’ll work it out. Until den, I’m not going to let what other people say affect my tag team.” With that, the Bahama Bomber walks off, heading towards the trainer’s room. “Well, there you have it,” says Ben. “I can’t say that I’m as convinced of Johnny’s contrition as Wildchild is, but I guess it’s not up to me to BE convinced. King, Doggah, back to you!”

Pete: "We are back on this family friendly Lockdown and ready for some more family friendly action. And what better way than in the spirit of a good ol' fairytale story? David and Goliath. Jack and The Beanstalk. Uh...Honey I Shrunk The Kids. Landon Maddix, going up against the giant Devon Walters one on one...with Maddix giving up over a full foot in height and over one hundred pounds in weight!" King: "Fee, Fi, Fo, Fum, I smell the blood of a worthless runt! Haha! Pete, I don't know if the little kiddies their mommies in TV land are neccessarily going to enjoy this massacare, but I sure am!" Pete: "Well, Devon Walters claims to be all about 'karma' and Lord knows if anyone's in for a dose of karma in the SWF, it would be Landon Maddix. For everything he's done over the past two years or so, both his cheating in the ring and his actions out of it, I think Landon could be in a whole lot of trouble tonight. A whole lot." King: "Oh, how I hope so." Pete: "...of course, we're going to try and stay impartial tonight, aren't we King?" King: "Is it in those retarded rules?" Pete: "No...but, I doubt you can get away with saying 'retard'." King: "Sorry. The 'mentally underprivledged' then." Suddenly, the lights dim to near darkness and a lone spotlight strikes the stage as Matthew Walters appears from behind the curtain. The Missouri crowd give the manager a mixed reaction, considering who his charge's opponent is tonight, as Devon follows behind. The Savvis Center is shrouded in both darkness and silence, other than scattered cheers and scattered boos from different parts of the crowd, as Devon and Matthew stroll towards the ring, towering over the fans as they pass. “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall. Coming to the ring at this time…being accompanied by Matthew Walters…standing seven foot, three inches and weighing in at three hundred and thirty five pounds…. DDEEEEEVVVOOOOONN WWWWAAAAALLLLLTTEEEEERRRRSSSSS!!!” The stoic duo reach the ring, Devon climbing slowly up the ring steps and entering the ring while Matthew takes his place in the corner at ringside. Referee Sexton Hardcastle takes a nervous glance up -- and I mean UP -- at Devon, as he turns to the ropes and glares out, waiting for his opposition for the night to make his entrance. Pete: "Man, would you look at the size of Devon Walters. He might be the biggest man we've ever seen in the SWF." King: "Clearly. I can't remember any other 7'3" wrestlers here. Hell, I can't remember any other 7'3" wrestlers, period! Except Giant Gonzalez, which isn't really a flattering comparison whatever way you make it. Although, I hear he was a pretty good Basketball player. Are Hindus allowed to play basketball?" "..." "PREPARE...FOR...LANDON!" ...WAAAAAHHHHH... *DUM DUM* "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" Incubus' "Megalomaniac" hits to a booming reception of boos, as Landon Maddix makes his way out onto the stage with a noticeable air of nervousness about him. Stopping after a couple of steps, a deep sigh escapes Maddix, stretching out arms and legs in some last minute preparation for likely the biggest mis-match of his career. Maddix then sets off down the ramp with the jeers of the St Louis crowd still surrounding him. "Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, hailing from Huron, South Dakota...he weighs in at two hundred, twenty two pounds... LANDON... "LA CUCARACHA"... MMMAAAAAAAAADDIIIIIIXXXXXXXXX!!!" "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" Jeers ring out as Maddix reaches the ring, but decides not to enter just yet, keeping his distance from the giant looking down on him. Pete: "Landon Maddix has faced, and defeated, men such as Aecas, Dominic Korgath, Charlie Matthews and Janus in his two years plus in the business. But even those four mammoth competitors would look normal in comparision with Devon Walters. The only chance he stands tonight is to use his speed..." King: "Or to cheat." Pete: "Or maybe to use his experience, over the relative newcomer..." King: "Or to cheat." Pete: "Or, most likely, he could cheat, yes." Still remaining on the outside of the ring, Maddix is clearly in no hurry to get this match going, stalling for time on the floor while Devon continues to wait on him. The music has cut and it should be 'go time'. Something which Matthews Walters is quick to point out to referee Hardcastle. Eventually, Maddix tells Hardcastle to move Devon back, before vaulting to the apron...and realising just how much size difference there is between himself and opponent. King: "You know, I spoke to Devon Walters earlier and asked him what his strategy was for tonight." Pete: "And..." King: "I don't know. I couldn't hear what he said...it's like talking to someone on top of a multi-storey for crying out loud." *DINGDINGDING!* With Maddix on the apron, the bell rings. Cautiously, Landon enters the ring, keeping an eye out for an attack by the monster Walters. But he remains motionless across the ring with an emotionless experession on his face. Still not certain over his opponent's state of mind, Maddix remains cautious as he takes a step into the centre of the ring, waiting to see what the reaction is to it. Nothing. Another step. Still nothing. And slowly, a smile creeps over Landon's face and it's apparent that he's done his homework on Walters, knowing all about his adaptation of 'karma' and his policy on not attacking in a match first. Now, he can have some fun. Turning to Hardcastle, Landon can be seen asking "what's the time limit". Hardcastle seems to reply, increasing Maddix's smile to a full blown beam. Backing away, Maddix retreats into a corner of the ring and leans across the top rope, flicking up his legs and lounging on the top rope...all drawing little reaction from Walters. "LAN - DON SUCKS!" "LAN - DON SUCKS!" "LAN - DON SUCKS!" But plenty from the crowd. Pete: "Landon Maddix, in no hurry to get this match underway." King: "No kidding." With his rest on the ropes done, Maddix hops down and swaggers into the centre of the ring. He then slowly removes his leather jacket, bringing it up to his face and breathing in the fine, real leather smell. "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHH!!" King: "Oh boy. Dumb move, hotshot." Whether Landon actually knows what he's doing by smelling the leather isn't clear. Either way though, he seems pretty shocked as a hand suddenly grips him around the throat, lifting him off his feet and hurling him into the turnbuckles!! "YYYYEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" The jacket goes flying out of the ring, as Maddix is suddenly launched into with a barrage of hard right hands in the corner from Walters. Right after right connects, Maddix becoming more and more punch-drunk with each clubbing blow before finally Walters takes a step back. Landon wobbles out of the corner, straight into the clutches of Walters once more. Still emotionless, the bigman places an arm under each armpit of La Cucaracha and LAUNCHING him skywards and back into the turnbuckles with a sickening thud! Initially bouncing out of the corner, Maddix flops back against the buckles again. Walters steps forward and grabs him by the arm, whipping Maddix out and across to the opposite corner, before charging in afterwards and avalanching him in the corner! The wind rushes out of Landon's body and he remains slumped in the corner, while Walter takes a step back..charging in with a second avalanche to further add to Maddix's problems. With Maddix deflated, Walters then reaches out and grabs a double choke. Hardcastle quickly reprimands Walters and tries to put a five count on him. But he suddenly finds himself diving for cover, as Walters hurls Maddix out of the corner by the throat and lets him plummet to the canvas below! Pete: "Sheer effortlessness with that double handed choke toss. You're right King, this IS a massacre." King: "And we're just getting started!" Already Maddix is hoping for some mercy as he begs off, one arm clutching his spine and the other offering friendship. Devon shouldn't need a second opinion, but glances over to his brother Matthew anyways and gets a shake of the head that lets him boot Maddix in the jaw with clear conscience. The boot snaps Maddix's head back and he doesn't seem to know where he is, his hand still extended for a handshake despite being flat on his back. Grabbing the hand, Walters shows frightening strength, pulling Maddix from the canvas by the limb, then whipping him with ease into the ropes. Back shoots Maddix, with Walters already waiting on him and throwing up a Big Boot. Seeing it coming, Maddix skids underneath with a baseball slide, then scrambles to his feet... Maddix: "GAH!" ...and gets grabbed by the throat again! The fans are clearly loving this dominant display, applauding away as Devon scoops Maddix off the canvas and pressing him high above his head and at least 7'5" off the ground! With Maddix above his head, Devon turns around the ring, displaying him to the crowd. But suddenly, a hand reaches over his face and to agonising screams begins to gouge at his eyes! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" Pete: "Wow, that sure didn't take long." Blinded, Devon ends up dropping Maddix, who lands on his feet behind. Brushing past, Maddix hits the ropes in front of Devon and launches a dropkick on his immobilised opponent. But it doesn't seem to even bother Walters, let alone move him. Maddix looks a little shocked, but doesn't give up and fires off another dropkick, this time from a standing position. Which has just as little of an effect as the previous one. Glancing around, Maddix doesn't know what to do and panics... *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOO!!" ...chopping Walters in the mid-drift! Still Walters remains unmoved though, only his stinging eyes giving him any trouble. Pushing onto his tip-toes, Maddix tries again... *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOO!!" ...having to swing up to get anywhere near Walters' chest with the knifedge. Not that the extra height makes a difference. Pete: "Landon might wanna go to Plan B right about now." King: "You think he's smart enough to have a plan...let alone, more than one? Oh Pete, your naivity amuses me so." Still Walters remains on his feet. Scampering over to the corner, Maddix climbs to the middle rope and vaults off, driving a right hand into the temple of his monstrous opponent. That seems to stagger Walters a bit, but he's still standing. So Maddix goes up to the middle rope again. Cocking his fist, off comes Landon, looking for the fist once more. Walters sees him coming though, his vision improved finally, sidestepping and catching Landon over his shoulder! The wind is again knocked out of Landon from falling gut first across the mammoth shoulder like Devon's, leaving him unable to counter...the SPINEBUSTAAAAA~! Pete: "SO much better than Hoff's!" King: "OMG TEH OATTOAST REFERENCEZ~!" Maddix quivers on the canvas as Devon begins to pull himself up. But his brother rushes over into earshot and yells at his brother to make the cover, which he wisely does... ONE! TWO! Kickout. Pete: "That's the advantage...or, rather, one of many advantages that Devon has over Maddix here. He has guidance on the floor, something which Landon has been sorely missing since Megan Skye left his side." Devon does pull himself up this time and brings Landon up with him, leaning him against the ropes and driving a knee to the breadbasket. Already it's clear Maddix is having trouble breathing. But Walters isn't done yet, sending Maddix across the ring with an irish whip. Back rebounds Maddix, so much smaller than Devon that the converted Hindu has to actually press Maddix up into the air a few inches before being able to Powerslam him to the mat! Pete: "Good Lord!" King: "Take that, low centre of gravity!" Pete: "The ease is just scary here! Walters is tossing Maddix around like the proverbial ragdoll, much to the amusement of pretty much everyone in the crowd!" The winded Next Generation doesn't even attempt to struggle up after the latest high impact move. Although, maybe he should have done, as Devon Walters backs off the ropes and casually drops an elbow with 335 pounds behind it! The fans cheer as Maddix gets squashed like a bug underneath the weight, Devon remaining on top for the pin... ONE! TWO! Kickout. From the outside, Matthew encourages his brother on as he gets to his feet. Reaching down, Walters pulls Maddix up by his precious hair, bringing him to his knees before brutally snapping his knee up underneath Maddix's jaw! Maddix's head again snaps back. But he's prevented from falling back by the handful of hair, as Walters wants to deliver a second hard knee into the jaw! Some UFC marks somewhere start to get moist, as Walters drives upwards with a third knee that finally satisfies him enough, releasing Maddix and letting him flop face-first down. However, Devon is far from done. He takes a moment to rub at his eyes before reaching down and pulling Maddix up again, this time to his feet. Ever stoic, Walters shows no anger or even much determination as he proceedes to back Maddix into the corner and unleash an unscientific but highly effective series of clubbing right hands! Hardcastle tries desperately to regain some order. But as he realises he's facing a losing battle trying to get Devon out of the corner, he instead starts a count. "ONE!" "TWO!" "THREE!" "FOUR!" "FI..." Devon breaks his onslaught, glaring at Hardcastle who wisely backs off. The momentary distraction proves costly though, as Maddix dives from the corner and chopblocks the right knee of Walters! Pete: "That's a smart move by Maddix, going after the knee." King: "Surely not!" Pulling himself up on the ropes, Maddix continues to favour his back as he lines up and stomps at the knee once..twice..three, four, five times! He then stops to try and recollect his scrambled thoughts, in which time Walters has gotten back to both feet. Already, Walters is limping slightly though, slow going after Maddix who manages to fire a basement dropkick into the kneecap. Followed by a second, which finally puts Walters down to one knee...a mini success for Maddix, and one he wastes no time in celebrating. "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" Walters hobbles back up to a vertical base again, but Maddix meets him, slamming a forearm up across the chest. And another. Walters shakes the blows off though, connecting with his own clubbing forearm that sends Maddix tumbling backwards and rolling dramatically across the ring! Pete: "Maddix has the knee weakened, but I don't think the chopblock was anything more than a desperation move. The question now is, can Maddix actually focus on the knee and stop going to his usual, failing gameplan of striking." King: "Unless Jay Hawke's been in his ear and taught him how to wrestle, then no." As Maddix rolls through to his feet, Walters slowly limps over looking to follow up. By the time he reaches Maddix though, he has recovered and fires off an inverted chopblock that tries to force the knee to bend the wrong way. Walters hobbles away, while Maddix pulls himself up and goes back to the basement dropkicks. One connects to the right knee. And another. Before Maddix fakes out Devon, dropkicking him in the left kneecap. Walters falls to one knee, his weakened right leg the one extended in front of him with his left folded underneath. With his opponent cut down to size, Maddix can finally fire off a quick succession of forearms to the head...four finding the mark, before Landon backs up and goes to the middle rope. The crowd sense a Crash Landon attempt and begin booing early. But Maddix has other ideas in mind, leaping off the ropes with a Double Stomp that comes straight down across the extended right knee of Walters!!! "OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" The leg crumples awkwardly under Landon's 220 pound bodyweight and leaves Walters down, clutching his knee in pain, while Maddix stumbles through and falls to his knees for a rest. King: "Credit where credit is due...that was an intelligent and effective move. I was set to criticise him for forgetting which leg he was working on, but I guess he had that planned." Pete: "It would seem so. Maddix might not be a great submission wrestler, but he's not completely stupid. He knows taking the knee out from a bigman is the smart thing to do." King: "Yeah. His problem comes when he needs to use holds to follow up. Then he's screwed." Walters remains down clutching his knee, trying not to let his pain show through his actions or his facial expressions. Maddix knows his opponent is hurt though and after a brief rest follows up by dropping a knee into the side of Walters' knee. He then grabs the foot, twisting the mammoth leg of Walters up and wrenching it inwards with his knee as the bending point. The odd cry of pain escapes Walters but again he tries to hide his pain, covering his face with his hands while Maddix gives the knee another wrench. Landon isn't really one to hold onto a hold though and pretty soon he stands back up, going for the more simple method of kicking the knee repeatedly. With his free leg, Walters begins to kick out and eventually catches Maddix in the gut, causing him to stumble backwards and fall onto his ass. Maddix pulls himself up quickly though, walking over and avoiding another kick from Walters. Instead, he snatches the right leg at the side, falling back and jarring the knee into the canvas. Pete: "KneeDT!" Back in pain, Walters clings to his knee despite the sudden flurry of stomps that rain down on it as Landon gets back to his feet. As the stomps keep coming though, Devon has to shange his gameplan and instead reaches out, pushing Maddix firmly away. Walters now has room to get back to his feet. Unfortunately though, Maddix regains his bearings quickly, ducking underneath a clothesline and clipping out the knee with another chopblock! Down goes Walters, while Maddix avoids the monster falling on top of him and hits the ropes, driving his weight into the chest with a double stomp, followed instantly with a drop into a back senton! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" It isn't until Maddix hits the back senton that he remembers just how worked over his ribs are, the wind knocked out of him once more. He finds enough energy in him to flop backwards though, making a lateral press... ONE! TWO! Kickout. Pete: "That wasn't the wisest move, considering the work Walters had done on the ribs earlier." King: "What do you expect? It's Maddix." Maddix drags himself up, holding his ribs while he waits for Walters to get back up. With his brother encouraging him on, Devon latches onto the ropes and uses them to drag himself up to his feet. Or foot, hopping on his one good leg and over to Maddix. Wildly Devon swings out with a right hand, which Maddix ducks, grabbing Devon's right leg and trying to execute a single leg takedown. Walters manages to hop on one leg for a few seconds, but Maddix hooks out his leg behind Walters' left, tripping him to the canvas. Bumping his head, Walters remains down, while Maddix grabs a hold of Devon’s right leg, spins around with his own leg, places Devon’s legs in the ‘4’ position and locks on the figure four leglock! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" Pete: "This isn't karma, this is Devon Walters feeling The Wrath Of Maddix!" King: "Typical...the one submission move he knows and it's a figure four leglock. Hardly ground breaking, is it?" Pete: "It doesn't neccessarily need to be." With the hold taking effect, Walters knows he needs to get to the ropes. Of course, being 7'3" helps and he's already pretty close as he reaches backwards. Maddix sees Walters reaching, but knows he can't move Walters now, so sets about putting as much pressure as he possibly can on the move... ...but Walters suddenly inches back on his elbows, closing in on the ropes... ...Maddix wrenches away again... ...but Walters grabs the ropes. "YYEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!" Walters clings onto the ropes, but Maddix defiantely refuses the break the hold, forcing Hardcastle to lay the count on him. "ONE!" "TWO!" "THREE!" "FOUR!" "FIV..." That causes Maddix to break...eventually. Walters grabs his knee as soon as the hold is released, clinging onto it while Maddix climbs to his feet and starts to curse his bad luck. And by curse, I of course mean yelling incomprehensible gibberish that in no worry contravenes any Family Friendly Lockdown Rules. Honest. Pete: "Maddix is losing it here." King: "That's because his trump card proved completely useless. I'd wager he doesn't know another leg submission besides the figure four." Frustrated, Maddix storms back over to Walters and tries to pull him back up. That proves to be a bad move though, as Walters drives a forearm into Maddix's gut to keep him weakened while he limps to his feet. Reaching a vertical base, Walters clubs Maddix over the back, dropping him to his knees. Walters pulls Maddix right back to his feet though and looks for an irish whip. Maddix pivots around to reverse the whip...but fails to even budge the 335 pound Walters, who brushes off the pathetic attempt to send him into the ropes and instead scoops Maddix around the waist. He then lifts Maddix up, hobbling backwards and falling backwards, dropping Maddix face-first across the top turnbuckle with the Payback! Maddix rebounds off the turnbuckles, slumping in front of Walters who makes a pin... ONE! TWO! Kickout! Pete: "Credit to Walters, who's not going overboard with this whole 'karma' thing and remembering you have to pin to win in professional wrestling." Walters limps back up, a slight grimace on his face as he tries to shake the soreness out of his knee. Grabbing Maddix by the hair, Walters then tries to pull Maddix up. The Next Generation manages to desperately swing out though, catching Walters in the side of the knee with a Polish Hammer still double axehandle! Walters groans and limps away, while Maddix pulls himself up and sprints in... *OOOOF!* ...and gets wiped out with a nasty, brutal, downright deadly Clothesline From Hell!! Pete: "Nirvana! He calls that Nirvana! Which, considering the meaning of the word, is pretty ironic." King: "Smells Like Teen Carcass! I love it!" Going limp, Maddix slumps onto his back and moments laters, finds Devon Walters' massive frame pressed across his shoulders with a lateral press... ONE! TWO! TH... KICKOUT!!! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" Pete: "Wow!" King: "How the hell did he kick out of that?" Pete: "For all Maddix's faults, he's got a lot of guts and a lot of heart." King: "Ah, bullspit Drain-Clogger!" Pete: "Excuse me?" King: "Sorry...this whole family friendly things really beginning to get to me. Did I ever tell you that I loath children? Not just dislike, but really loath the little urchins." Pete: "..." Walters doesn't concern himself with Hardcastle or his count and instead drags Maddix back up to his feet, clubbing him with a right hands. The jelly-legged Maddix staggers around the ring, in nowhere in particular until the ropes bounce him back. Landon has enough awareness to try and throw his own punch. But Walters ducks down and, after an awkward struggle due to height, manages to lift Maddix up onto his shoulders in a fireman's carry, ready to deliver some Karma! That doesn't prove easy on one leg though and Walters, after hopping around for a little while, eventually finds Maddix sliding down his back and avoiding imminent defeat. As Landon lands, Walters fires off a back elbow. Maddix evades it however, ending up with his back to Walters' front and reaching up, ready to pull him into a Snapmare Driver... ...trouble is, he can't even REACH Walters' head, let alone think about pulling him down. Maddix: "...awww, DAMN IT!" Dejection takes over Maddix's thoughts and allows Walters to snatch on a Full Nelson. Maddix flails for a moment, but suddenly a loud, primal screams turns his eardrums to ash, the signal for the Call Of Kali. Only, it's not just Maddix's eardrums that take a bashing. Sexton Hardcastle also howls and covers his ears, the earsplitting pain causing him to squint too... "OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" ...causing him to miss a mule-kick from Maddix, connecting you-know-where on Devon Walters. King: "Oh my God! He broke the WaltersLock!" Pete: "The Walte...WHAT!?!" Over doubles Walters, releasing the full nelson in the process. Shocked, Matthew Walters cries foul on the outside and yells at Hardcastle, trying to point out the lowblow. But Hardcastle can't call what he doesn't see and despite his best suspiscions, the referee can do nothing, except watch on as Maddix grabs Walters underneath arm and head. And, with a little effort, Maddix pulls Walters down and drops him on his head with a Complete Shot!! Walters' head bounces off the canvas and he rolls onto his back, perfectly placed for a pin... ONE! TWO! TH... ONLYTWO!! Pete: "Just a two. Maddix is staying in this match, but he needs something to finish Walters off!" "LAN - DON SUCKS!" "LAN - DON SUCKS!" "LAN - DON SUCKS!" Hearing the not quite so family friendly crowd getting on his case, Maddix tries to block them out by clamping his hands over his ears. Which doesn't work too great, but at least lets him get his focus as Walters pulls himself to his feet. The monster pulls himself up as Maddix backs off, gaining distance as he begins to stomp... ...stomp... Pete: "Uh-oh." ...stomp... ...Maddix-Kick... NO EFFECT! King: "Uh-oh indeed!" Walters doesn't go down, the kick rebounding off his burly chest and leaving him with little more than a bad case of heartburn. Panicking, not for the first time, Maddix runs in with another Maddix-Kick...but thinks better of it at the last moment and re-adjusts, dropkicking Walters right in the kneecap!! With a groan, Walters falls to one knee, Maddix already smiling as he backs up and vauls off the knee... ...SHINING WIZAAAARD~! Pete: "He got 'im!" "YEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!" King: "NO HE DIDN'T!!" The crowd are going NUTS, as Devon Walters begins to get up straight away! Maddix has already begun celebrating and little does he know what awaits him as he turns around, arms aloft in the air with a beaming grin... Maddix: "Oh my GOD!!" Walters is up and lumbers in as best possible, looking to take Maddix's head off. Unfortunately, Maddix's shock is own temporary, able to dropkick out the knee as he ducks Walters' clothesline attempt! Walters falls to one knee again and Maddix turns on his heels, running in again, vaulting off the knee... ...SHINING WIZAAAARD~! Pete: "That's two Shining Wizards..." King: "...and he's getting up AGAIN!!" "YYEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!" The crowd pop once more, as Walters gets back up. This time though, he's clearly feeling the effects and only reaches one knee before stopping, dazed and confused... ...SHINING WIZAAAARD~! King: "Ah well." This time, Walters stays down...much to the disappointment of his brother, who can only watch despairingly. ONE! TWO! THREEE!! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" *DINGDINGDING!* The crowd deflates as Maddix rolls off of Walters, looking a man lucky to have escaped with his life rather than a victory. A grimace masks Maddix's happiness as he grabs his back while rolling from the ring, Hardcastle right behind him to raise his arm triumphantly. "Your winner of this contest...LANDON... "LA CUCARACHA"... MMAAAAADDIIIIIIXXXXXXXX!!" "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" Pete: "It took not one, not two, but THREE Shining Wizards. But at the end of the day, Landon Maddix took the victory. Despite all the size, power and weight differences, Maddix recovered from a terrible start and his experience told in the end." King: "Bah! I need a drink." Pete: "We've got some lemon cordial. It has a picture of The Rugrats on the bottle." King: "That's it, I'm out of here!" As King storms off in search of his secret stash of scotch in his locker, Landon Maddix walks from the ring. With a last glance towards the ring, Maddix turns a nearby camera to face the ring and pinpoint of the groggy Devon Walters, just coming to his senses. He then turns back to the camera, growling into the lens. Maddix: "Cortez...you're next, 'amigo'!" Maddix then storms off, as we face to commercial.

Lockdown returns from commercial break with senior referee Matthew Kivell standing in the ring, and Longdogger Pete sitting at the announcer’s table going through his paperwork. Pete: “Family-friendly Lockdown is back on the air, but King…” King: “What?” Pete: “I don’t have Matthew Kivell listed as the referee for this next matchup.” King: “Maybe it was just a change in plans, Pete. These kinds of things happen all the time in professional wrestling.” Pete: “Maybe, but…” Before Longdogger Pete can continue that thought, he is interrupted by the opening strains of Pink Floyd’s “Learning to Fly”. Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the ring at this time the SWF International Champion … JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY HAWWWWWWWWWWKE!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Jay Hawke emerges from the curtain and onto the ramp, making his way to the ring as the crowd continues their familiar chant: “JAY HAWKE SUCKS! JAY HAWKE SUCKS! JAY HAWKE SUCKS!” Pete: “We’re getting an unscheduled appearance from Jay Hawke here. What could he possibly be doing out here tonight?” King: “I wish I had the answer for that one Pete. I don’t. But I do know that as the International Champion is making his way to the ring, he is in his wrestling gear and not his usual suit.” As Jay Hawke enters the ring, he removes his robe and hands it to a ring attendant. The boos continue to rain down on him as he smirks, proud of the reaction he’s getting from people he’d probably hate outside the ring anyway. He then asks Funyon for the mic, who hands it over without a problem and leaves the ring. Hawke: “St. Louis, Missouri.” Heel or not, the hometown mention is always good enough for a cheer. Hawke: “A city built on traditional wrestling values. What the hell happened?” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” That’s better. Hawke: “But despite your downhill climb from wrestling stronghold to nothing-happening city, I have decided -- out of the goodness of my heart -- to allow you to watch me prepare for my match at Genesis with a public workout!” King: “That’s right! I did see his notice on the bulletin board in the back!” Hawke: “See, every time we do TV from one of these cities, there’s always a number of local kids looking for a break. Some of them get tryout matches before the show starts…and some of them get the opportunity of a lifetime. Tonight, I’m offering three of your own an opportunity that most young wrestlers only dream about. See, I put a sign-up sheet up in the back. And there were three requirements for putting your name on it. Number one, you had to be able to write your name. Number two, you had to hail from the state of Missouri. And number three, you had to sign an injury waiver. And as I understand, Funyon has the names at ringside already.” King: “See, what a great sport the champion is!” Pete: “Right. What’s the catch?” Hawke: “Now, here’s how it works. Each of these men is going to get three minutes in the ring with me. If they can last the time limit, the referee here will hand them a check worth 5,000 dollars. If they can beat me within the time limit, they will get a check for $10,000. I’ve already signed the checks, they’r good. Now, bring out the first victim … er, I mean, challenger!” Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen, introducing first. From St. Joseph, Missouri… Michael Lessman!” At the announcement, a clean cut young men in basic black trunks and boots comes down to the ring. Pete: “Well, you’ve heard it. If any of these three men can defeat Jay Hawke within three minutes, they’ll be ten thousand dollars richer.” King: “I think they’d better settle for the five grand and be done with it.” DING DING DING! Matthew Kivell’s signal leads to the bell ringing, and we are underway. They lock up, and Jay Hawke immediately spins behind Lessman and hooks his arm behind him with a hammerlock. Lessman tries to elbow Jay Hawke with his free arm, but Jay Hawke ducks his head to the side before reaching up and grabbing the chin into a crossface. Hawke then leaps up to scissor the free arm… King: “…and just like that the Wing Span is applied!” And Lessman wastes no time, tapping his shoulder flush four times as if it’s going out of style. DING DING DING! Funyon: “In 23 seconds, the winner via submission…JAY HAWKE!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Pete: “You’ve gotta be kidding! This is such a farce!” King: “What do you mean?” Pete: “That guy didn’t even wait to fall to the mat before he tapped out!” King: “Hey, the brilliance behind the hold is he can lock it in either standing or sitting down!” Funyon: “Introducing opponent number two… from St. Charles, Missouri … Rocky Christopher!” At the sound of his name, another clean cut kid, this time in white trunks and boots, makes his way to the ring. Pete: “And here comes another sacrificial lamb.” King: “A chance to win $10,000 is nothing to sneeze at.” As Christopher enters the ring, Jay Hawke immediately catches him with a knee lift. DING DING DING! Jay Hawke immediately grabs Christopher by the head into a front facelock, then spins him around, taking him down with a swinging neck breaker. Jay Hawke immediately drops down for the cover: ONE! TWO! THREE! DING DING DING! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Funyon: “In ten seconds, your winner … JAAAAAAAAAAAY HAWWWWWWWWKE!” Pete: “What a travesty! I doubt these guys ever had a chance!” King: “Of course not! Jay Hawke is just that good!” Pete: “They probably got 50 bucks for showing up!” King: “Well, Joseph Peters is a generous man too.” Funyon: “And opponent number three … from St. Louis, Missouri … Zach Young!” Jay Hawke looks down the aisle, awaiting what he suspects will be another unsuspecting jobber…. “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” King: “What are these people cheering about? There’s nobody coming down the aisle.” Indeed, Suicide King is the master of the obvious. However, that’s because there’s a figure standing on the apron behind Jay Hawke! Pete: “That’s Zyon!” Jay Hawke turns around, just as Zyon springboards off of the top rope and hits Jay Hawke with a picture-perfect flying body press: DING DING DING! Matthew Kivell slides into position: ONE! TWO! THREE! DING DING DING! “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” Before Jay Hawke can even react, Zyon has slid outside of the ring. Jay Hawke sits up, eyes wide in shock, as Funyon makes his announcement: “In six seconds…your winner is Zyon!” “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” Matthew Kivell heads to the floor, trying to catch up with Zyon down the aisle to hand him his check. King: “I DISPUTE THAT!” Pete: “Stop shouting!” King: “Zyon isn’t from Missouri…and I don’t think his name is even Zach!” Pete: “But Zyon has not only pinned Jay Hawke for the second time, but he’s taken ten grand of Hawke’s money to go with it!” King: “Highway robbery! He should be drawn and quartered for that!” Pete: “Be serious.” King: “I am serious!” Pete: “We’ve got more great action still to come! Don’t go away!” The parting shot is of Jay Hawke, sitting down in the ring trying to burn a hole through Zyon as Zyon holds his new paycheck in the air.

Welcome back to Lockdown right here from the beautiful Savvis Center, home of the St. Louis Blues and the Steamers” Pete exclaims in a shameless shill for the city they’re in, Mick Foley’s cheap pops have not lived in vain “Steamer?? You can’t say that on a family friendly show” King says. Pete gets a little nervous, he still remembers the problems he got in a few Lockdowns ago “Erm… it’s an indoor Soccer team King” “Sure… soccer… right” King manages to squeeze in before the bass beat of “Tribe” kicks in. “TRIIIIIIIIIBE! WHY DON’T YOU STRIKE JUSTIFY YOUR MIND?” The pyros go off to reveal KOJI, TORU, Chris Card and Natasha on the ramp, after a quick pose the crew moves towards the ring. “The following match is a tag-team match set for one fall with a thirty minute time limit” Funyon informs the crowd. “Introducing first, from the Saitama Prefecture, Japan; weighing in at 483lbs combined. TORU!! KOJI!! – Collectively they are known as TEEEEEEE!! KAAAAAAYYY!!! OOOOOOOOOAH!!” A smattering of applause and cheers is heard from the crowd, TKO is building a reputation for kicking ass and taking names, but the build is slow – they are not likeable people but their actions tends to win people over during a match. “What on earth is Natasha wearing tonight” King says as he sees the usually seductive and provocatively dressed woman walk to the ring in a long flowered moo-moo. “It looks like a potato sack!” “Well King – family friendly rules and all” Natasha looks equally embarrassed and pissed off as she takes the long shiny coats from both members of TKO, her usual flourish missing tonight. A leap over the top rope and both members of TKO are in the ring, ready for their opponents. As the beats of “Between the Wheels” kick in Fuyon introduces the only one of the opponents he knows, Marcus “The Mastermind” Ward. The Mastermind throws the curtains to the side and walks out like a man on a mission. “Ward seems to be very determined tonight” Pete points out for those viewers at home who cannot see the obvious. “ “In case anyone at home missed it then this is not the first meeting of these guys. 2 weeks ago TKO took on the team of Marcus Ward and JJ Johnson” King chips in, feeling like being helpful tonight. “I’m in total control” “He wasn’t in control last time he faced TKO, they did a quick and dirty on him” Pete says as Marcus Ward waits on the apron looking at TKO, Chris Card and Natasha all in the ring. “You’re just all rude tonight aren’t you?” King says pretending to be indignant at the “quick and dirty” comment. Marcus Ward just taps the side of his head as TKO start to get a bit impatient waiting for the mystery partner of the Mastermind. Then a familiar gentle bass line kicks in bringing the fans to their feet “NO WAY!!” Pete screams excitedly “HE GOT DANNY WILLIAMS??” echos both King and Longdogger increduously. “Jester’s Dance” starts up as the fans leap to their feet and go nuts for the imminent arrival of the new SWF world heavyweight champion. “Dan-e! Dan-e! Dan-e! Dan-e! Dan-e!” ”No way Williams would team up with Ward” King says, desperately hoping he’s right. We cannot make out what Pete is trying to say as the chants for the champ are deafening. Marcus Ward enters the ring as Jester’s Dance plays on and just smiles as he looks at TKO looking a bit worried, Williams reputation makes him respected even in Japan. Then the crowd cheering turns to boos as they see the massive Bruce Blank hop over the guard rail on the opposite side of the entrance way and then enter the ring behind TKO’s back. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! “It was a ruse by Ward, he’s got the Hardcore Gamer’s champion in his corner, not the World champion.” King says, happy that he does not have to call a Williams match tonight. “That dirty, rotten ba..” Pete stars to say “ballet dancer!” King cuts him off, waving his finger. Bruce just stands there behind TKO, he’s not allowed to attack them before the bell under these rules. But that doesn’t mean he can’t surprise them. As Chris Card back into him he jumps 3 feet in the air when he sees the huge Bruce Blank look down at him. “Well howde-do!” is all Bruce Blank says with a huge shit eating grin as both KOJI and TORU turn around and then take a few steps back, more in surprise than fear but still. Marcus taps the side of his head, already he’s one up on TKO and the bell hasn’t even rung. “How the hell can these two guys team up?? Last week they beat the sn… stuffing out of each other in that Hardcore match” King points out. “What Hardcore match? Was I there? I don’t remember calling that” Pete says confused. Before the bell can ring there needs to be the ceremonial handshake, but this time TKO are too taken back by the appearance of the 6’7’’ Redneck to spit in their hands, instead Ward and Bruce catch them off guard by quickly grabbing their hands to shake them. Ward lets go of TORU’s and the bell rings. *DING*DING*DING* But Bruce hasn’t let go of KOJI’s hand instead he’s squeezing it with all the power he’s got in his right arm making KOJI’s hand suffer the first punishment of the match. Then before the referee can act he Irish Whips the surprised KOJI right into a tilt-a-whirl spine buster by Ward. TORU tries to help out but the referee gets in his way and makes him leave the ring while Bruce Blank makes a big deal of voluntarily leaving the ring. “It’s good to see Bruce Blank being so into these family friendly rules” King comments. “Like him or hate him, Bruce just got the advantage for their team cause KOJI Kitano has been taken DOWN!!” Marcus makes sure to keep the high flyer KOJI on the ground and keep the advantage firmly on his side by placing a series of knees directly to the back of KOJI. Then he kneels down, places one knee on the small of his Japanese opponents back and pulls back on a chinlock to punish the back. BOOOOOOOOO!! Ward just smiles as the crowd boos him, then he lets go of the chinlock for a second and slaps KOJI over the back of the head to mock him before reapplying the chinlock. ”Ward needs to be careful, he could get fined if the committee thinks he’s mocking his opponent” Pete says like the little do-gooder he is. TORU rushes into the ring to kick Ward off but Ward smartly backs off and lets the referee take care of TORU. While Soapdish is busy with the bigger TKO’er Marcus grabs KOJI by the hair and then whips him face first right into Bruce Blank’s outstretched foot. When the referee turns around both Ward and Blank look like nothing has happened. “It’s not just experienced teams that can pull off stuff like that” King point out “All you have to be is an experienced assho..” “HOLY COW look at that King” Pete cuts King off by pointing out the amazing action of Marcus Ward pulling KOJI back to his feet in the ring. Ward whips his opponent towards the turnbuckles and then runs towards him ready to lay into him with a stiff clotheline, but instead the much quicker KOJI uses the ropes to leap over the charging Ward, land on his feet behind Wards back and lock his arms around Ward’s waist “Belly to back! KOJI used his superior speed to get the advantage” Pete almost screams. “BACK ELBOW!! Man do you ever get tired of being wrong Pete?” King says as Ward catches KOJI square on the jaw with an elbow. Ward goes for a second Irish whip to the corner, but this time with such force that the smaller Japanese opponent flies back first into the turnbuckles and then staggers forward holding his back, not sure of where he is. Ward follows up by throwing KOJI back into the turnbuckles, this time lifting his opponent off the ground making sure the lower part of his back takes the brunt of the impact. “You can clearly see that Ward is in control now, KOJI is taking a pounding Pete!!” Marcus throws KOJI against the ropes, but when he tries for a tilt-a-whirl move KOJI beautifully turns it into a headscissors take down instead throwing Ward half way across the ring. KOJI crawls across the ring towards his partner’s outstretched hand as Marcus gets back to his feet. “Can the Mastermind catch Kitano before he reaches his partner??” Pete asks, not expecting a reply. A diving grab by Ward allows him to catch KOJI by the left ankle just at the limit of TORU's tag range. But KOJI quickly rolls out of his grasp with a crafty tumbling maneuver and makes the tag anyway, sending Marcus scurrying. “Oh look at Marcus crawl, he’s setting a land speed record” Pete says as Marcus Ward quickly crawls across the ring and tags in Bruce, letting the two big men settle it in the ring. “He’s a smart man Pete, it’s tactics not cowardice” King utters as the beefy redneck steps through the ropes. Bruce twists his head to loose it up as he just stands there, staring at TORU across the ring. TORU charges with a shoulder tackle, but Bruce just braces himself and takes it without falling. Then TORU points to the ropes to challenge Bruce to do the same. Bruce bounces off the ropes and catches TORU with a shoulder tackle *SMACK!!!* “Did you hear that King?? Like two trucks hitting each other” The impact makes TORU take a step back, but that’s all. Bruce then puts his hands together in front of him and bows to TORU. TORU looks confused, then looks back at Chris and Natasha in his corner trying to figure out what Bruce is trying to pull. “Watch out!!” Pete yells as Bruce knocks TORU into the corner with a running double axe handle, then he whips TORU into the ropes and then plants him with a thunderous power slam. In the background Marcus Ward is applauding the move as Bruce begins to lay the boot in, kicking at TORU’s head and chest. BOOOOOOOOOO!!! “The crowd does not like Bruce one bit King”. “That much is obvious, I don’t know why, it’s not like the crowd smells any better” Bruce pulls TORU back to his feet, laying a few clubbing blows in across the back of his opponent along the way. Then he whips him into the ropes, ducks down and sends TORU flying over his back in a back body drop “TORU LANDED ON HIS FEET!! Man he’s very agile for such a big man” “First thing you said that made sense tonight Pete” King quickly shoots back. Bruce turns only to be caught right in the face by TORU’s running drop kick that sends the big man crashing to the mat. TORU quickly follow up by landing baseball slide kick right to Bruce’s gut YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!! T!! K!! O!! “The fans like to see Bruce get his ass kicked it would seem King“ is the only explanation Pete can think off for that chant. TORU tries to control the big man with a couple of knees to the gut but after the second one Bruce shoots back by driving the point of his elbow into the side of TORU’s head. Moments later Bruce picks up the bigger of the two Japanese opponents for a back drop. “TORU TAGGED!! Did you see the blind tag King??” “I saw it Pete, the whole arena saw it – everyone but Bruce saw it” Bruce lands the back drop on TORU but is totally unprepared for the aerial assault from KOJI as he dives off the top rope and lands a double stomp right to the chest of Bruce. KOJI almost flips off the redneck but remembers the rules at the last moment, instead opting to leap up on the second rope and then come off with an elbow measured to hit Bruce right on the throat “Bruce might be eating through a straw after this match is over Pete, cause that looked LETHAL!!” King says as Bruce writhes in pain on the mat holding his throat. “I think they found the best way to beat a beast like Bruce. If you can’t breathe you can’t win” KOJI flips the much bigger Bruce over, then grabs him by the hair to lift him a bit off the mat. But instead of pulling him to his feet KOJI lifts his left foot off the mat and brings Bruce crashing to the ground, driving his nose into the canvas with the Darkness Stomp! T!! K!! O!! KOJI reaches out and tags in TORU who leaps over the top rope looking forward to putting the hurting on Bruce. TORU drags Bruce to his feet as KOJI gets in position behind the winded and hurt Bruce. “SANDWICH ROUNDHOUSE KICKS!! Man that took the big man down hard!!” Pete says as the tag-team specialists demonstrate what their years of working together has accomplished. TORU puts his boot on Bruce’s head and then just drags it across the eyes and nose as he smiles with vicious glee. The temporarily blinded Bruce is picked up by TARO who then proceeds drop him face first on the top turnbuckle before scaling the ropes himself. “This big man has amazing flying abilities!” “Yeah but at 260 gravity works for you or AGAINST you Pete” In this case gravity works FOR TORU as he lands a top rope Bulldog, grabbing the staggered Bruce around the head and driving his head into the canvas with authority! Then Toru hooks a leg and goes for a cover ONE!! TWO!! TH-NOTGONNA HAPPEN!! Bruce kicks out as Soapdish was about to move his hand down for the 3rd count. He hurt, he’s sucking wind but he’s not beaten yet. TORU isn’t discouraged by the kick out but instead puts the tip of his boot to use as he lands a couple of kicks to Bruce’s rib cage before pulling the big man up by the hair and tagging in KOJI “This is very smart Pete, they’re cutting the ring in half and they’re tagging in and out quickly.” ONE!! “Yeah but they better not break the 5 count” Pete says as KOJI climbs the ropes TWO!! “These guys are not going to get caught out by Soapdish” King shoots back THREE!! At three KOJI comes off the top rope and lands a missile drop kick to Bruce’s head while TORU lands a basement drop kick to Bruce’s leg sending the big man crashing to the canvas neck and shoulders first. Bruce bounces and then rolls over on his side holding his neck as he’s in tremendous amounts of pain. T!!! K!!! O!!! “See TORU was out of the ring before the referee hit 5, why do you always try to start shit” “ZU!! Why do I always try to start my shit-zu? Cause I love my dog?” “Okay I think the lightning bolt caused you serious damage Pete” King says while restraining himself from hurting Pete. “What lighting bolt?” Pete asks still confused about the Hardcore title match on Storm. Instead of explaining King turns his attention to the ring where KOJI uses his superior speed and balance to run up the turnbuckles and then come off the top rope in a twisting senton splash on the big bruiser. KOJI doesn’t go for the cover just yet, instead he climbs up on the ropes once more, then walks to the middle of the rope with no problems and leaps off for a leg drop. “HE MISSED” Pete screams “Tell it like it is Pete, Bruce rolled a little. KOJI still partially hit him but he landed right on his ass doing it.” Bruce is hurting, holding his neck trying to inch his way closer to the tag where Marcus Ward is screaming directions and instructions at him. Meanwhile KOJI took a bad bump on the mat and is hurting too, but he’s closer to TORU and just has inches to go. “It’s a food race King” “What the Fu… nyon are you talking about?? It’s a knee race if it’s anything” King shoots back annoyed once again by the restrictions on his vocabulary. Bruce slowly crawls towards Marcus, holding out his hand, on the opposite side of the ring KOJO tags in TORU who speeds across the ring and prevents Bruce from tagging by landing a running knee to Bruce’s ribs. TORU smirks as he pulls Bruce to his feet by the hair, throws him into his own corner and follows up with a stiff kick right to the chest of the trapped Bruce *BAM!!* TORU pulls Bruce back upright, then smirks And kicks him again *BAM!!* T!! K!! O!! T!! K!! O!! TORU is on to a good thing, so for the third time he positions Bruce upright in the corner, gets in his stance and then *BAM!!* “HE KICKED KOJI IN THE HEAD!!” Pete screams as Bruce slumped to the ground and TORU’s boot made contact with the back of KOJI’s head. TORU is surprised as KOJI is knocked off the apron and the momentary distraction is all Bruce needs to gather all his energy and make it to his own corner. “HERE COMES THE MASTERMIND!!” “Yes I can see that Pete, good thing too or Bruce would have lost.” Marcus Ward rushes into the ring as Bruce slumps over on the apron, he can’t even stand up right now as he’s gasping for air. Marcus clotheslines TORU into the corner, then he wraps his arms around TORU’s waist, and uses his significant strength to heft the fairly large TORU right up and onto the top of third turnbuckle, quickly following him up and onto the ropes. Ward locks his arms around TORU's waist and stands straight up before hefting him up and full-over his shoulders into a super belly-to-belly suplex that rocks the ring and silences the crowd in the Savvis Center!! “NOW WHO’S IN CONTROL!! TOTAL CONTROL!!” Marcus recovers quickly from the high-impact maneuver and pulls the staggered TORU back to his feet and then tosses him into the ropes. As TORU bounces back Ward is momentarily distracted by KOJI reaching out from the floor to grab his leg, but when TORU goes for a lariat Ward simply ducks and the big man hits the turnbuckle instead. Going with the momentum the Mastermind quickly rolls up TORU in a schoolboy and goes for the pinfall ONE!! TWO!! Nick Soapdish doesn’t even begin to count the third count as TORU kicks out, pissed off at being caught by surprise he jumps to his feet and then lands a Yakuza kick right to the jaw of Ward sending him down hard. TORU pulls Ward to his feet, then twists the arm into an arm bar, holding the arm out as he tags in KOJI to utilize the quick back and forth that’s kept them so dominant in the ring so far. “Man this is one well oiled machine” Pete says even he has to admire TKO’s efficiency if nothing else “And all the best machinery says “Made in Japan” on the bottom, this is no different” King brags. Koji springboards off the top rope and lands a kick to Ward’s outstretched arm. Then he quickly goes over and nails Bruce with a slap across the face which brings Bruce’s full attention back to the match. *SLAP!!!* “Oh that had to sting King” Pete the poet says. “You think one slap is going to hurt Bruce? He’s already taken a lot of punishment in this match. No all it did was piss him off and bring him back in the match, I think that might have been a mistake.” Bruce steps through the ropes to attack KOJI but the referee is quick to block the way. KOJI keeps getting in Bruce’s face slapping at him as Nick Soapdish tries to restore order. Behind his back Chris Card and Natasha have quickly entered the ring. TORU has Marcus Ward immobilized by locking him in a Full Nelson. Card sets him up for his super kick “Calling Card”, but before he can hit it Bruce finally uses his brains in this match, grabs the referee, spins him around and then points to Chris and Natasha in the ring “Card and Natasha just got caught in the ring!!” Pete says, not even trying to hide his enjoyment. “First rule of cheating, don’t’ get caught – Chris should know this by now” King says as he shakes his head. “Well he got caught” Pete chips in, just dying to rub it in. Nick points to both Natasha and Chris Card, then he points to the dressing rooms and yells at them that they’re outta here YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!! While the crowd may appreciate TKO and their ass kicking skills, not that many people appreciate Chris Card and they’re happy to see him ejected from the match. Chris protests, Natasha protests, even KOJI and TORU protest, although in Japanese. But the decision stands, Card and Natasha have to go to the back, Nick isn’t taking any guff tonight. “Man Nick Soapdish is standing firm, good call Nick – make it an even 2 on 2 match!!” Pete says as he laughs at Card’s misfortune. “That’s not fair!! They need Card and Natasha out there” King interjects. “For what? There are no signs to read, no directions to follow” Pete replies, more than happy to see the back of Chris Card and Natasha. TKO are on the floor with Card and Natasha, then as if to say “to hell with this” they start to walk towards the back with Card and Natasha. In the ring Ward just taps the side of his head and smiles as Soapdish starts the count. ONE!! TWO!! “Is this how they get their first loss? By count out?” Pete asks THREE!! “I always said, if you have to lose, make sure you have an excuse” FOUR!! “I’ve never heard you say that before King” Pete asks FIVE “Well I’m saying it now” TKO, Card and Natasha are almost at the exit. SIX!! Then TORU looks at KOJI who looks back and nods SEVEN!! It would seem that TKO have decided to continue the match as they run towards the ring to break the count. EIGHT!! KOJI being much faster than TORU runs ahead of him towards the ring where Marcus Ward is waiting. NINE!! KOJI slides into the ring at 9 breaking the count, but unfortunately for him he slides right into Marcus Ward who’s been waiting for in and quickly fires off a running knee before KOJI can stand up. BOOOOOOOOOO!!! Ward just taps the side of his head and laughs as he picks KOJI up from the ground. He lands a backbreaker on the smaller Japanese opponent but doesn’t let go, instead Ward lifts him up and once again lands a hard backbreaker on KOJI. Then he takes a little running start and lands a third backbreaker *BAM!!* Ward tilts to one side, sliding KOJI into a perfect pinning position and goes for a cover ONE!! TWO!! THRE--KICKTOTHEHEADBYTORU!! “You gotta wonder if that would have been it for TKO, King” Pete wonders. “Oh don’t be silly, KOJI knew his partner was coming so he didn’t have to kick out. It’s all about the team work” King explains As Soapdish is busy pushing TORU out of the ring Bruce enters the ring, does a really loud clap right behind Soapdish’s back and then locks a headlock on KOJI. When Soapdish turns around he sees Bruce in the ring as Marcus steps through the ropes, but since he heard a tag he allows it “I see Bruce talking a page out of TKO’s book” Pete says Bruce is still a bit winded and shaken from the earlier ass whooping he received but he tries to shake it off as he throws KOJI into the ropes for a clothesline. The huge arm is narrowly ducked under by KOJI who quickly swings behind Bruce and wraps his legs around Bruce’s head for a reverse huracanrana. Bruce goes with the momentum and shoves the much lighter opponent off. “KOJI landed on his feet King, I didn’t think he was THAT fast” Pete says impressed. “Oh he’s usually faster Pete, he’s just been mauled by Ward so that slows him down”. KOJI is about to take another run at Bruce when the big man once more puts his hands together and bows. “He did that earlier as well, I’m not sure if he’s mocking KOJI or just trying to get him to make the same mistake as TORU did.” Pete says KOJI bows to Bruce, but ducks under the double axe handle attack Bruce tried to use. Then as Bruce turns around he’s caught by a lighting quick enzugiri that brings a large portion of the crowd to their feet T!! K!! O!! ”Fool me once, shame you on. Ain’t gonna fool me twice – you better remember that Bruce” remarks King “You know Bruce has really had a hard time figuring KOJI out tonight” Pete points out KOJI quickly tags in TORU, holding Bruce down as the bigger man climbs the ropes positioning himself with the back to the ring “AIR TORU MOONSAULT??” Pete wonders out loud As TORU crouches down he makes sure Bruce is in the right position, but the second he begins to bounce backwards going for the flip Bruce uses his huge arms to pull KOJI into the position he was in himself just a split second ago. As if in slow motion TORU notices the change at the last moment and adjusts, landing on his feet right next to KOJI instead of hitting him as Bruce had planned. As TORU goes for a kick Bruce does manage to catch it and then quickly clothesline TORU down before he can land an Enzugiri. Bruce runs across the ring, tags in Ward and then goes back to TORU ONE!! Ward enters the ring and kneels down. TWO!! Bruce picks up TORU and on the second attempt manages to press him over his head THREE!! Bruce drops TORU gut first onto the knee of Marcus Ward sending waves of pain through TORU’s abdomen from the impact. FOUR!! Bruce realizes he’s at 4 and quickly leaves the ring before the team is disqualified while Marcus Ward picks up TORU and puts him in a power bomb position. As he has the big man up in the air he adjusts his body and brings TORU down on the top rope instead. Catching him on the rebound turning it into a slingshot spinebuster *THUD!!* “That’s the Bavarian Bomber! Marcus is pulling out all the stops tonight” Pete says as Marcus covers his opponent. ONE!! TWO!!! THR-KOJIPULLSHISLEGONTOTHEBOTTOMROPE!! KOJI gets the officials attention and points out the foot that TORU had on the bottom rope to break the count, the foot that KOJI placed there just a split second ago. “I can’t believe he got away with that” Pete says angrily. “I can, it’s a smart move” King calmly counters. Marcus is tempted to punch the referee but instead turns his attention to TORU, he quickly throws him into the ropes near KOJI “Blind tag, damn I almost missed it but KOJI tagged TORU on the back” King says very impressed. The Mastermind has not seen it either as he takes TORU to the ground with a tilt-a-whirl spinebuster but before he can cover KOJI comes off the top rope with a flying forearm that knocks Marcus Ward into the corner. KOJI quickly helps his partner out of the ring before the 5 count and then turns back towards his opponent. Marcus is leaning against the turnbuckles in the corner, trying to shake the cobwebs as KOJI nails him square in the chest with a running drop kick that sends Ward back into the turnbuckles and then staggering towards the middle of the ring, more or less out cold on his feet. Koji positions himself behind the staggered Ward, then he locks on a half Nelson before trapping the other arm and locking in his K-Clutch!! YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!! “This could be the mach right here Pete!! Lights will go out” King says with confidence. “I’d tend to agree with you, as much as I hate to” KOJI locks the hold in tight and holds on as Marcus Ward struggles to break free, but as the moments pass the moves get less powerful, until Marcus just barely moves. *DING*DING*DING*!!! “What the he… ck??” King says in surprise, as he didn’t see the referee call for the bell. KOJI just drops Marcus and raises his arms in the air to celebrate his victory, only it is a bit premature as it turns out Bruce was the one to ring the bell and not Funyon. “It’s not over yet! Bruce isn’t the official time keeper” Pete points out and of course he’s right. The smirk on Bruce’s face is quickly wiped off as TORU attempts a running lariat at the crafty newcomer...but Bruce has other plans as he ducks under the outstretched arm and gets his hands around TORU's waist using his momentum to easily lift him up into a powerbomb position. Bruce runs down the length of the ring on the outside and executes "Sweet Home Alabama" right onto the retaining wall. KOJI stands on the first turnbuckle watching his partner get destroyed by the muscle-bound southern boy...and gets clocked from behind by a forearm from the recovered Marcus Ward. Suicide King starts shouting, "TORU is out of comission, Card has been sent to the back and Koji is all alone in the ring with an in control Ward, we all know where this match can go now!" Seemingly following King's predictions, Ward lands another stiff forearms hot to the back of KOJI's head before slipping on a quick full nelson and dropping him right on his head in a dragon suplex out of the corner!!! Ward hops to his feet quickly, rubbing his neck from the after-effects of the K-clutch before tapping his finger to forehead and showing off his beautifully demented smile. As The Mastermind taunts the crowd and his opponents Bruce Blank has made his way to the top turnbuckle in the corner facing the ring and begun lifting his arms up and down, raise the roof style. Longdogger comments, "Bruce Blank is raising the roof...but why?!?" Ward drags the lightweight KOJI over to the corner and lifts him up to Bruce...who easily picks him up by the neck and up onto his shoulders as Ward backs away from the corner, sly smile on his face. Ward begins tapping finger to his temple as Bruce Blank gets KOJI all the way up in a Gorilla Press...and tosses him from a standing position on the top turnbuckle towards Ward! Marcus Ward leaps off his feat towards the free-fralling KOJI and catches him in spinebuster position, executing the double-team Conspiracy Collapse style maneuver with incredible force as KOJI's spine is turned jello from the impact. King cackles, "It's simply elementary now, as Ward makes the cover to finish this amazing win!" ONE!!! TWO!!! THREE!!! TORU recovers and reaches the apron just in time to watch the referees hand slam to the mat counting out the third second...and the first loss for the elite tag team from the Far East. TORU slams his hands in anger on the apron and kicks the retaining wall as he realizes just how they were out-planned this time out. *DING*DING*DING* Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, the winners of the match in 23 minutes and 51 seconds – the team of Bruce Blank and Marcus “The Mastermind” WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARD!! Nick Soapdish lifts Marcus Ward & Bruces arm in victory as the boos rain down on those cheating bastards. When Nick goes to raise TKO’s arms in the air as per “Family Friendly rules” they shoot him an evil look that makes him a bit nervous. Then he raises their arms every so slightly in the air before running out of the ring. “TKO’s first loss in SWF, but a big, big win for both Bruce and Marcus.” Pete says going for the wrap up “Call me crazy but I don’t think it’s over between these guys though Pete” “You’re crazy” The last thing we see before we head to a commercial is Marcus Ward tapping the side of his head as he’s being held up by Bruce Blank since he’s still feeling the effects of the K-Clutch.

Backstage we go, in the locker room of three not-so-very-family-friendly men right now. One of whom, Landon Maddix, is pacing the room, hands on hips. Sat in front of Maddix, the International Champion Jay Hawke...holding his title belt in his hands, as proud to own it as ever. To his left, the Cruiserweight Champion JJ Johnson sits with a pissed off expression on his face. A few little cuts can be seen dotted around his head and neck from the Riot Act Plus through the car windscreen on Lockdown and his neck hardly seems loose or naturally positioned. "Right now, I'm disappointed." begins Maddix, solemnly. "Disappointed at what happened on Storm and disappointed that already, we're having to talk like this. It's been one show...one measly Storm, since we joined forces. And already, we're 0-2. This wasn't what I was expecting, coming into tonight, coming up so close to Genesis VI. I was expecting me and you Jay to have defeated those greencard, greenhorn Japanese losers. And I was expecting you, JJ, to take care of Todd Cortez." JJ growls at the mere mention of Cortez's name. "As it is...I have to do something I wasn't expecting to do or prepared to do. And that's to make sure defeat doesn't set us back. See, what happened doesn't need to affect us. All the people out in that arena are going to try and make it. Already, the snipers are out. Already, the critics are sharpening their knifes for us three. Two matches. Two losses. But that doesn't need to affect us. Jay...you and me were teaming up for the first time ever. You were placed in a situation you aren't used to, Hardcore Rules. We were up against a team that have years of experience together. And, besides that, it was 4 on 2." "Exactly." sneers Hawke. "Put me with either of those Puroresu wannabees one-on-one, in a true wrestling match, and things would be very different." "You're totally right." Maddix agrees. "That's why you're the SWF International Champion!" Smiling, Hawke, flips the belt over in his hands to face him. "This doesn't need to affect us. So we lost to two guys with more tag team experience than us, in a match that hinders you drastically, with Chris Card and his crackwh...uh...cracking looking woman-friend interfering. Big deal? Nuh-uh. A crisis in the camp? Far from it. You're still The Dean of Professional Wrestling and I'm still the Next Generation of professional wrestling. The best TKO can hope for is fighting for scraps and a Tag Team Title shot once every four months." Hawke smiles at that. Next to him, JJ hasn't smiled once since we've seen him. "Now, as far as you go JJ...I'll admit, I'm disappointed you didn't beat Todd Cortez. You're the enforcer. The man I trusted out of all three of us could soften Todd Cortez up for me before Genesis. If not deal with him pre-emptively for me. That didn't happen. And I know you're hurt right now. I know that neck has got to be killing you. So I'm not going to be too hard on you for not getting the job done, because we all have our off-days. What I am going to say though is not to worry about it. Put it behind you. Hell, even me -- even I, Landon Maddix, lost to Todd Cortez under Hardcore Rules once. And did that stop me? Hell no. And it's not going to stop you either." JJ nods, with a grimace. "As I said before, Genesis is coming up. And I refuse to let tonight shape our run in to the biggest show of the year. Our first Pay Per View event as a trio. I refuse to. I would hate to think that losing to two nobody Japs would cause Zyon to win the International Title from you at Genesis, Jay." "Not going to happen." Hawke replies confidently. "I would hate to think that somebody having to use a car windsheild to beat you would cause you to lose the Cruiserweight Title at Genesis, JJ." JJ slaps his hand on his Cruiserweight Title belt. "Because it's not going to stop me from tearing Todd Cortez limb from limb, right before his girlfriend's very eyes!" Maddix's compadrés chuckle. "Tonight, I want you guys to relax...forget about Storm, have a good time back here. Enjoy the champagne, enjoy the night off. And make sure you're watching tonight, because I'm going to lead by example. I'm going to show you both just how little what happened on Storm matters. Tonight, I'm going to get the first victory for Cucaracha Internacional..." "Wait, what?" "What?" "Cucaracha International?" asks Hawke. "Since when did we decide on that name?" "What's wrong with it?" "Well, it sounds like a cheap Mexican airline." "I think it works. You're an American, I'm a Spaniard, JJ's a Canadian. We're Internacional." "Interna...cional?" "It's Spanish." ... "Look, just watch the match, okay. When I deal with Devon Walters, we can consider all of this put behind us and we can concentrate on making Genesis VI a success, for all of us." Placing his palm-down hand forward, Maddix waits as Hawke and JJ place their hands on top in a show of solidarity. Maddix then turns and leaves, as Jay and JJ glance at each other. "Cucaracha Internacional?"

“The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL!” *BANG!* As Funyon makes his announcement, an eruption of sparks flies up from the front of the entryway and six women in glittering gold shorts and not much else come running out onto the ramp. They begin to dance, bumping and grinding furiously, as “Gonna Make You Sweat (Everybody Dance Now!)” by C & C Music Factory blares across the speaker system. “Introducing first, from Parts Unknown but now residing in Kiev, Ukraine, accompanied to the ring by his assistant, Heff… he weighs in at two hundred eighty-five pounds… THE CRIMSON SKUUUUUUUUULL!” Audience member cower in fear as the super-villain and his minion emerge from behind the curtain. Paying no attention to the shimmying women on either side of them, they march down the ramp and begin to circle the ring. Audience members cower in fear. “This man is scary,” says Longdogger Pete, his voice thick with dread. “And his choice of entrance music even scarier. Notice how not a single person is obeying the song’s command to dance. They’re petrified.” “I’m not afraid of him,” King spits. “So he wears a mask and has big muscles. Why should that scare me?” As if hearing these words, Skull stops on his way past the announce table and turns to face King. Without moving a muscle, he affixes the commentator with a chilling stare. King squirms uncomfortably. “And HIS OPPONENT…” The music suddenly stops and is replaced by the more cultured sound of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, causing the dancers to form a line and scurry off the stage. “From Toronto, Ontario, weighing two hundred twenty-six pounds… ‘THE CRITIC’ SCOTT PUUUUUUUUH-REEEETZLEEEER!” Pretzler appears, violently shoving one of them aside, and walks down to the ring with his head lowered and his eyes smoldering. His expression makes it abundantly clear that he means business. ‘PRETZ-LER SUCKS!’ “PRETZ-LER SUCKS!’ “Not to be confused with ‘The Critic’ Jay Sherman,” Pete says, then chuckles to himself. Listening carefully, one can almost hear the rush of air as the joke goes whooshing over the heads of the viewers. Pretzler climbs the steps one at a time and enters the ring. The Crimson Skull is already there, cracking his knuckles in a menacing gesture. Not (appearing) intimidated, Pretzler stands in the corner and waits calmly for the referee to ring the bell. *DING DING DING!* Both men advance slowly to start – Pretzler out of caution, Crimson Skull out of nature. When it becomes clear to Pretzler that he will have to make the first move, he darts forward and grabs Skull by the left wrist, trying to twist it into an arm wringer… but Skull’s left arm remains straight as he reaches over with his right and punches Pretzler in the face. *WHUMP!* The force behind the blow is formidable and knocks the Canadian flat on his tailbone. He performs a backward roll and is soon on his feet again, where he is met with the sight of the Crimson Skull standing with his arms folded across his chest, nodding slowly. Pretzler is dismayed by this, but not discouraged, and he now runs forward again and fires off a crisp dropkick, catching his opponent with both feet squarely in the middle of his chest. Skull is pushed back several feet… but remains standing. ‘OOOOOOOOOOOH!’ “My God,” Pete whispers. “It’s almost as if he’s… a robot!” “I think you’ve got your super-villains mixed up,” King responds. “That I do.” Crimson Skull clenches his fists tightly, causing his muscles to bulge. He reaches down to grab Pretzler by the hair… and the Critic scoots around him to the back, rises to his knees, and shoots forward with a chop block! *WHAM!* All two hundred eighty-five pounds of the Crimson Skull come crashing to the mat at once. Now that his opponent is down, Pretzler is able to target his upper body, and he slides into one of his trademark grounded headlocks. Though Pretzler squeezes with all of his strength, Skull’s unmatched power allows him to roll up onto one knee and then to his feet, and the Critic can’t do a thing about it. An elbow to the gut almost breaks up the hold… *WHUMP!* …And a second one does break it up, driving the wind from Pretzler at the same time! ‘YEEEEAAAAHHHH!’ The über-fiend is surprised by the crowd’s support for his villainy… but even more shocked when Pretzler ferociously reapplies the headlock and drags him down to the mat again! ‘BOOOOOOOOOO!’ Pretzler now clenches his hands together tightly to ensure than his quarry cannot escape. He leans in, putting pressure on Skull’s throat. ‘BOOOOOO-RIIIIIIING!’ ‘BOOOOOO-RIIIIIIING!’ Before Skull can begin searching for an exit strategy, Heff panics. He hops onto the apron in a sudden motion and begins making raspberries at Referee Hardcastle, blowing spittle into the air and creating a general distraction. The ref turns to face him and shouts angrily. “Get out of here! Get lost!” In a placating gesture, Heff lowers his hands… and covertly rolls a bottle into the ring between the first and second ropes. Then he steps down. “Hey!” King exclaims. “Did you see that?” But the bottle—no, make that aerosol can—has already disappeared into the Crimson Skull’s grasp. Reaching up and pointing it at Pretzler’s face, he squeezes. *TSSSSSSSSHHHHHHH!* As the button is pressed, a stream of thick yellow liquid comes spurting out of the bottle and into the Crimson Mask’s face. He coughs, chokes, and sputters… and before either man knows what’s going on, Pretzler leans even further inward and pins his shoulders to the mat. ONE! TWO! THREE! *DING DING DING!* “Here is your winner… SCOTT PUUUUUUH-REEEETZLEEEER!” Pretzler untangles himself from the gooey mess of the headlock and stands up, raising his arm in victory. Then he looks down at his opponent, trying to understand what just happened. The Crimson Skull is writhing on the mat, hands over his face, the yellow substance splattered everywhere. Lying next to him is the aerosol can, its label now visible to the camera. ‘SPRAY CHEESE’ It takes a while for everything to sink in. “He sprayed himself by mistake!” King shouts excitedly. “He thought he was pointing the opening at Pretzler, but he had it backwards. That idiot!” A broad, arrogant grin has spread across Pretzler’s face, and he can’t help but laugh at the misfortune of his simpleton opponent. He turns his back on Skull and starts to exit the ring. *WHUMP!* From behind, the enormous fists of the Crimson Skull collide in unison with the back of Pretzler’s neck. He wipes the last remnants of spray cheese from his eyes and stares down in indignant fury. “Double axehandle out of nowhere!” Pete suddenly bellows. “He’s out for revenge!” “Sore loser!” King shouts. Pretzler crumples in a heap, only to be dragged to his feet once more. This time, Skull levels him with a lariat. *WHACK!* “That’s enough!” screams King. “You lost! You—somebody stop this!” With his prey lying prone on the mat, Skull ascends to the top rope. He pauses on the turnbuckle and flexes his muscles, then jumps off, seeming to hang in the air for a moment before the full force of his body weight slams into Pretzler in a thunderous Crimson Splash. *WHAM!* “Call security! Throw him out of the building. Pete, do something!” The crowd is fully behind the evildoer and is loving every minute of this brutal turn of events. Just as it seems that Skull’s sadistic rage has worn off, he stands up and points to his assistant outside the ring. “Heff – get the table!” The sniveling henchman does as he is told, reaching under the ring and pulling out a long wooden table. He sets it up in front of the ramp. ‘FUCK HIM UP SKU-ULL, FUCK HIM UP!’ Now Crimson Skull hauls Pretzler to his feet a final time. With a grunt, he muscles the Canadian into a military press and stomps to the edge of the ring. Amongst the audience, a tone of disbelief is in the air. Surely he wouldn’t… “No…” King breathes. But he does. With a mighty heave, he tosses Pretzler over the top rope. Through the air. And halfway over the table. The lower portion of his body is driven through the wood with a satisfying crunch… while the upper half lands flat on the arena floor, shoulder-first, with an impact that is nothing short of sickening. *SMACK!* ‘HO-LY SHIT!’ ‘HO-LY SHIT!’ ‘HO-LY SHHHHHhhhhhhh…’ Almost immediately, the buzz in the crowd is replaced with a hushed murmur. This is wrong. This is not supposed to happen. “Dear God,” King whispers. “He may be… I don’t know.” “Folks, this is serious,” says Pete, his voice almost choked off. “This man is hurt.” In the ring, the Crimson Skull runs through a series of ridiculous poses, but no one is paying attention to him. All eyes are focused on Scott Pretzler. Pretzler is lying on the floor, slug-like, barely moving. His right arm is bent at a horrifying angle. A team of medics has arrived and is gingerly attempting to load him onto a stretcher. The match has been won, but the price appears great. Just how great, nobody is yet sure. As Pretzler’s broken figure is carried up the ramp, Longdogger Pete can only repeat himself. “This man is hurt.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” says Funyon, “I have been informed that before the show begins tonight, there will be a special announcement. Therefore, without further ado…” The crowd buzzes with anticipation as the Saavis Center’s speakers hang silent for a moment. Then, the lights go out…. When I was back there in seminary school…. The crowd bursts into cheers as Jim Morrison’s voice heralds the arrival of the Smarkdown Commissioner, two-time SWF World Heavyweight Champion, the only man to hold both the Light Heavyweight and SWF World Cruiserweight Championships, the award-winning Tom Flesher! There was a person there who put forth the proposition That you can petition the Lord with prayer! Petition the Lord with prayer! Petition the Lord… with PRAYER?! YOU CANNOT PETITION THE LORD WITH PRAYER! With that, Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir” begins with a blast, and the Saavis Center lights up with an explosion of blue pyro! Tom Flesher walks through the curtain, clad in his usual impeccably-pressed navy blue suit. The collar of his white shirt is open, as always, with a sharp crease. As he strides to the ring, his standard GQ look is evident in every part of his outfit… with the exception of his footwear. The brightly-shined wingtips that usually accompany his business attire are missing, replaced with a worn, softened pair of Doc Marten combat boots. As Flesher steps into the ring, the music quiets, as does the crowd. He pauses while the audience calms, taking a moment to smooth out the front of his trimmed haircut, and picks up a microphone. “Don’t worry, Saint Louis… I won’t be long,” he says, his demeanor somehow more serious than usual, without the sarcastic edge that has marked many of his recent appearances and interactions with Spike Jenkins. “You see, I have business to attend to later tonight, and I’m going to have to head to the back in just a few moments to get ready for it.” He waits for the words to sink in on the crowd, hoping someone will understand exactly what’s going on. As no one seems to be catching on, he cracks his neck, and a small smirk spreads across his face. He reaches up and strokes his chin, giving them a few more seconds before continuing. “Some of you may remember,” he says, “when I stepped into the ring a few months ago, taking on Johnny Dangerous. Johnny, you may recall, was fighting to get a shot at the World Heavyweight Championship, and I was trying to prove to him once and for all that he just couldn’t hang with the top dogs here in the SWF. He wasn’t just unmarketable – and believe me, that hasn’t changed – but I knew that he couldn’t cut it in the ring. Sure, I’d been out of the ring a while, but that wasn’t going to be a big deal. Johnny and I had had our run-ins in the past, and I’d always schooled him the way I’ve schooled everyone in the SWF. I’d put him on the mat, I’d rolled him around and I’d taken him out with something as simple as a double-stomp. I didn’t even need to break out the Ego Buster or, god forbid, the Boilermaker on the boy.” “I think we all remember how that one turned out,” he says bitterly. “It dawned on me then,” Flesher continues, “exactly what needed to happen. I’m not just an authority figure, I realized, but a guardian of the SWF World Heavyweight Championship. I became lax in my duties – I let an out-of-shape, mentally-unstable Ejiro Fasaki at the title, and look what happened to him. He lost to Johnny Dangerous.” Flesher sighs, and shakes his head disgustedly. “At least now we have a decent standard-bearer carrying the title,” he says. “However, what I learned from that match has stuck with me. That’s why, when I saw this insolent little pr- gentleman named Spike Jenkins trying to fight it out with me, I knew that I was going to have to get back in the gym.” “Come on,” he says. “Do you really think I don’t have access to the best sparring partners in the world? Do you think I can’t get my skills back up to the top level without anyone watching me on TV? You don’t really think that just because I’m retired, I can’t put on a show? For god’s sake, we all saw what happened to Grand Slam last year.” “And,” Flesher says, “it’s come to my attention that, perhaps, just perhaps… I may have to deal with something like this once again.” “And so,” the Smarkdown Commissioner says, “next week, Smarkdown is the night that I show everyone exactly what I’ve been doing behind closed doors for the past few months. On Smarkdown, I’m going to show you all exactly why I know that I’m not going to get caught out of shape … should I, by chance, have to deal with someone.” “Thank you,” Flesher says, a full-blown grin on his face, “and goodnight.”

Moments before Lockdown begins, “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins enters The Savvis Arena, dragging his bag behind him. He begins making his way down a corridor, as he hears the familiar voice of Lockdown commissioner, Joseph Peters chasing behind him. “Spike, wait a second!” Jenkins stops and turns towards the charging CC member. Short of breath, Peters stops in front of Jenkins, holding his finger in the air to give him a second to get some oxygen. When he finally catches his breath, Peters begins. “You’re finally here. I have to talk to you.” “What is this about?” asks Spike. “Well…a lot of things. Let me do this fast as I don’t have much time.” “Hmm?” “Listen, I’m sorry about Storm. My hands were tied behind my back. There wasn’t much I can do…but I hope you can forgive me with tonight. The tag title match is going to go down as planned, just like you asked.” “Fair enough.” “But…” “But…what?” Spike asks suspiciously. “Remember when I told you CC will ask you for a favor?” “Yes…” “Well, since we are giving you the tag title match…we figure we can ask you of the favor.” “Jeez…I knew there were going to be strings attached. What is it?” “Genesis.” “What about it?” “We know how much you hate Tom Flesher…and to be perfectly honest with you, the rest of the board can’t stand him.” “Really now? That’s surprising.” “But the problem is…we can’t do much about it. We can’t fire him as we all have equal power. He has a firm grip on some of the members, so we can’t vote him out. We don’t have a lot of options other than to sit and let him have his way.” “What does this have to do with me?” “Well…Spike…CC has been very generous to you, lately. A Cruiserweight title shot…A Tag Team title shot…and possibly a World Title shot.” “CC is going to give me a title shot against Danny?” “Only if you do one thing for us.” “Anything! Peters, you KNOW I just need that one shot to capture the World Title. In my three years in the SWF, I’ve not received ONE World Title shot. I can do it!” “I know, Spike. So does the board. So, if you do this one thing for us, we will give you a title shot.” “What is it?” asks Spike, a little more open to the idea. “At Genesis, you will go one-on-one…with Tom Flesher!” Spike looks down at the floor, and after a moment of thinking, looks back at Peters, “Alright. You guys want me to beat Flesher? You got it! Then I get my title shot, right?” “Well…not just beat him…” “Then do what, exactly?” “Spike…I…the members of CC…we are asking you to take Tom Flesher out!” Spike looks puzzled as Peters eyes him, “We want you to take him out so he will finally leave the company!” “You want me to do to Flesher…what he did to me at 13th Hour?” “In a way…yes.” After a long pause, Spike looks around the arena, thinking of what to do. He turns back to Peters… “Consider it…done.”

The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents... SWF FAMILY FRIENDLY LOCKDOWN! LIVE, WEDNESDAY SEPTEMBER 7th, FROM THE SAVVIS CENTER IN ST. LOUIS, MISSOURI! (5PM PST, 8PM EST; check local listings) ** Family Friendly rules are in effect! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The Main Event - SWF Tag Team Championship Match Wild and Dangerous © vs. "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins and Zyon --> Deja vu! I don't think anyone is too satisfied with the way this one turned out on Storm, least of all Spike Jenkins. Joseph Peters, in an effort to make sure Spike doesn't come out on our Family Friendly show and start kicking babies or something, has issued an immediate rematch - one in which Johnny Dangerous is a legal participant. One wonders how Johnny's condition (after his brutal match against Magnifico) will affect his performance tonight, but one also wonders how his temper will affect it as well. Will he take his anger out on his opponents, or his partner? A win for W&D means they get to keep the only gold they have left - a win for Spike and Zyon would give them a HUGE boost of momentum heading into their respective Genesis matches. The question is - who wants it more? Rules: Standard Tag Team Match. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Devon Walters vs. "La Cucaracha" Landon Maddix --> Devon Walters may be a bit new to the SWF, but he's in the business of giving people what's coming to them, and really, can you think of a better opponent for him? After all the crap Landon's pulled, it's about time karma caught up with him, and it just might, on Lockdown! Then again, maybe not - Landon's formed some powerful alliances as of late... could their influence, direct or otherwise, influence the outcome? Rules: Standard singles match. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- TKO vs. Marcus Ward and ??? --> TKO handed Marcus Ward and JJ Johnson a little bit of a loss back on Smarkdown, but Ward is a tenacious little fellow, and has asked CC for a rematch, with a twist - his partner is something of a mystery. Will this new partner be the difference needed to earn a win over the hot-like-something-very-hot TKO? Rules: Standard Tag Team Match. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Scott Pretzler vs. The Crimson Skull --> If the Crimson Skull hopes to take down the legendary Cyclone Comet, it would behoove him to start frying some bigger fish in his SWF Tour. Then again, perhaps a fish the likes of Scott Pretzler is asking a bit much... or is it? The former Cruiserweight Champion takes on the reigning VILLAINY champion - a win for the Skull might bring him a step closer to his ultimate goal... a win for Pretzler - well, that would just be pretty neat, I guess. Rules: Standard singles match. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Opening Promo: Not yet claimed. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Also appearing: Other human beings! Considering all the stuff that went down on Storm, and the fact that we're very close to Genesis, I'm certain that some of our unbooked have a lot to say to Ben Hardy and/or our adoring public.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please rise for the National Anthem.” Funyon stands in the center of the ring as the crowd rises to its feet. I hate to see that evening sun go down I hate to see that evening sun go down 'Cause, my baby, he's gone left this town Feelin' tomorrow like I feel today If I'm feelin' tomorrow like I feel today I'll pack my truck and make my give-a-way St. Louis woman with her diamond ring Pulls that man around by her If it wasn't for her and her That man I love would have gone nowhere, nowhere I got the St. Louis Blues Blues as I can be That man's got a heart like a rock cast in the sea Or else he wouldn't have gone so far from me I love my baby like a school boy loves his pie Like a Kentucky colonel loves his mint'n rye I love my man till the day I die. The crowd applauds Funyon’s stirring rendition of “St. Louis Blues” as the opening montage fades in.

Necessary parts of the show have been unavoidably detained. I'll look again in the morning, at which point I'll post a show, incomplete if need be, and a card.

So, uh, Edith Brown Clement for $200, Alex. I'm more or less sure of it now.

I'm sporting the Amish Chinstrap connecting a goatee to the rest of my hair. I find it helps frame my face, and kept neatly trimmed, it allows me to look less like a fresh-out-of-undergrad law student and more like a smarmy bastard.

It's Kibagami's birthday! Cocaine, scotch and gamengiris for all!

If you're going dirty, try the Absolut Peppar. It's good shit, although I prefer it for cooking. And buy a vermouth spritzer. They're useful for measuring an exact amount of vermouth, they help impress your friends with gadgetry, and you can use them to spray vermouth into your mouth like Chloraseptic.

I would have preferred temporarily elevating Justice O'Connor to Chief Justice, as I had heard discussed, while waiting for the court to settle a bit before appointing another Justice. I'm sure Sandy would have been along for the ride, and as a moderate she by definition would have pissed off the fewest people. After Kanye West got on the stick at the NBC telethon, and then I heard that Rehnquist died, my first thought was, "Fuck. Chief Justice Thomas." All things being equal, though, I'd much prefer Scalia or Thomas to be appointed to the center chair than appointing someone from outside the court. I understand that it's more expedient, and that Roberts is essentially a baby Rehnquist (having clerked for him and such), but I have the idiosyncratic opinion that the CJotUS should be elevated from the current court. (Idiosyncratic because of the 16 previous Chief Justices, only three were elevated from the bench - four, if you count Taft, who was President before he was appointed to the center chair.)

I appreciate this. (Y)

Toxx, I think you're ignoring the shattered orbital bones.

For the record, Bruce, Danny has a very unique style (by which we mean he has a by-the-books style based on a promotion that nearly no one follows). We feel that it's very hard to pull off, which does not in and of itself make it "good" - in fact, there are times where he'll lose the match and some will say the match went over the marker's head where others will make the same comments you have about it not fitting within the standard North American formula, and in between there are valid criticisms of the way the match was constructed. Part of the problem, of course, is that our fed writers were largely reared on North American wrestling as opposed to the All Japan style Danny works with, and so we're conditioned to different things. Of course, if we only marked to win that which we were conditioned to like, then the SWF would be full of three-minute TV squashes, spinebusters and backdrop suplexes. Personally, as a marker, I think a formula is comforting, and using one doesn't necessarily make a match bad - Justice and Rule's epic tag team reign was entirely based on the Southern heel tag style, for example, and my character was essentially a chickenshit heel who nonetheless had skills a la Ric Flair. However, when a writer is able to skillfully go outside the North American formula, that deserves to be rewarded, not over and above a skillful use of formula but alongside it. The short way of saying that is, hell of a job, Danno. You wrote a great match.

ELM/Manson is up. I didn't get it until last night, when I was out becoming nobly besotted with other law school folk.

This "hardcore title" you speak of has no currency on Smarkdown.

The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents... SWF SMARKDOWN, AUGUST 29TH, 2005, LIVE FROM JACOBS FIELD IN CLEVELAND, OHIO! (8:00 PM EST; 5:00 PM PST. Check local listings.) Matches are due to markers at 8 PM EST. Marked matches, promos, talented pitchers, etc. are due to Chuck Woolery at 10 PM EST. The SWF rolls into Cleveland, Ohio, with a vengeance! The World Title is on the line for the first time since Johnny Dangerous won it at Ground Zero! Newcomers TKO are in action again! All this and more on SMARKDOWN! MAIN EVENT - SWF WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH Johnny Dangerous © vs. Danny Williams ~ Dangerous hasn't seen action since Ground Zero, while Danny Williams has been rumbling through the upper card like a juggernaut. While Wildchild will no doubt be watching this one with bated breath, don't discount El Luchador Magnifico's interest in the outcome - after all, he does seem to be on a collision course with the man who keeps a stiff upper lip. Rules: Standard. Word Limit: 6000 Send To: Chuck Woolery KARMIC RETURN MEETS CHICANO CHICANERY! Devon Walters vs. El Luchador Magnifico ~ ELM is keeping in condition for his inevitable match with Danny Williams by taking on the giant Devon Walters. Walters doesn't like to fight, but we have the feeling that the Mexican expat can draw him to anger if anyone can. Rules: Standard. Word Limit: 5000 Send To: The Superstar IT'S A REMATCH~! Zyon vs. "The Dean Of Professional Wrestling" Jay Hawke © ~ It's a non-title match! Woohoo! Rules: Standard. Word Limit: 5000 Send To: Justice SUPERVILLAINRY MEETS MANSONOSITY! Manson vs. The Crimson Skull ~ As we know, the Crimson Skull is looking to find Cyclone Comet, for purposes of retribution and so forth. Manson, meanwhile, is looking to grab a win over one of the SWF's hottest competitors. Fight! Rules: Standard. Word Limit: 4500 Send To: Ace309 TAG-TEAM ACTION TKO vs. Marcus Ward and JJ Johnson ~ The newest additions to Chris Card's stable of champions debuted on Lockdown, and Smarkdown Commissioner Tom Flesher will be honest with you: He just wants to see two of his favorite styles clash in the middle of the ring. Rudos? Technicos? Bueno! Rules: Standard. Use the tag ropes, preferably not to choke someone (while the referee is looking). Word Limit: 4500 Send To: chirs3 OPENING MATCH Bruce Blank vs. Martin "Big Country" Hunt ~ Blank made an appearance on Lockdown, and opens it up this time on Smarkdown against perennial welcome wagon Martin Hunt! Rules: Standard. Word Limit: 3000 Send To: Chuck Woolery Also Appearing: Anyone who isn't booked! YEAH!

I'd just like to remind everyone that one of the reasons they didn't go up last year was general apathy about nominations. It's all well and good to point out now that they weren't posted or voted on, but if you really care about the awards make sure you get out and nominate the people you want to win.

You clearly misread the card, Spike.