Ace309

FADE IN “And there you have it,” says Mak Francis. “Having heard comments from champion and challenger, we’ve got a tremendous matchup on our hands, as Wildchild will defend the World Cruiserweight Championship against the former champion, the Fabulous Jakey!” “And I’ve got to agree with what Jakey said, too,” adds the Suicide King. “It was completely unfair of him to have to defend against the Wildchild, just a week after winning the championship! And not only was it his first defense, but it was the first time that he’d ever been in the ring against Wildchild! But now that he’s had some time to prepare, and has actually been in the ring against Wildchild, he knows what to expect, and I’m predicting that Jakey will win back the World Cruiserweight Title right here tonight!” “He’s definitely got a long night ahead of him, as he faces the standard bearer for the Cruiserweight Division!” shouts Mak. “Let’s go to Funyon in the ring!” DING! DING! DING! “The following contest,” says Funyon, “is scheduled for one fall… and it is for the SWF WORLD CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP!” The arena becomes enshrouded in red and pink lights and a generic techno beat pumps through the speakers as the challenger makes his way out onto the stage, resplendent in a bright pink sequined robe. “Making his way towards the ring,” says Funyon, “from Minneapolis, Minnesota, and weighing one hundred sixty pounds, here is the challenger: the FAAAAABULOUS JAAAAAKEY!” “Jakey with a big grin on his face as he makes his way to the ring,” says Mak. “And I can’t help but wonder whether or not he’s still going to be smiling at the end of this match!” “Well, I’ll say this,” replies King, “we can expect to see a much different result than we had last month. Jakey’s had time to study tape, he’s had time to game plan, and I think – like I said before – we’re going to see history made here tonight!” Jakey strides up the steel ring steps and saunters across the apron, turning to face the fans, who greet him less than warmly: JA-KEY SUCKS (DICK)! JA-KEY SUCKS (DICK)! JA-KEY SUCKS (DICK)! JA-KEY SUCKS (DICK)! “There don’t appear to be many Jakey fans here in the Dominican,” notes Mak. “Definitely not,” agrees King, as Jakey removes his robe. “This is about as partisan a crowd as you can get! I mean, it’s nowhere near as biased as that crowd was back in the Bahamas last week, but it’s obvious that Wildchild is immensely popular all over the Caribbean!” As Jakey leans back against the turnbuckles, the enthusiastic Dominican fans begin cheering wildly as the arena lights dim and fade to black: ATTENTION! ALL YOU NIGGAZ! ALL YOU BITCHES! TIME TO PUT DOWN THE CRISTAL, TIME TO TAKE OFF THE ICE FOR A MINUTE… TIME TO THROW A LITTLE MUD IN THIS MOTHERFUCKA… Redman’s “Let’s Get Dirty” whips the fans into a frenzy as the Caribbean Cruiser bounds onto the stage! In between the alternating flash of the white-hot spotlight, the Bahama Bomber can be seen holding his title overhead inciting the fans to cheer ever louder, before jogging down the ramp, slapping hands with fans at ringside as he makes a beeline for the ring. “His opponent,” says Funyon, as Wildchild somersaults into the ring, “is accompanied to the ring by Melissa Fasaki! From the Bahamas, weighing two hundred fourteen pounds, he is the reigning… AND DEFENDING… SWF World Cruiserweight Champion… the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!” Wildchild rolls gracefully to his feet and glances sideways towards Jakey before walking confidently over to the edge of the ring, where he leaps onto the middle turnbuckle and holds his arms high overhead as Reggie Noble screams: I CAN’T GET IN DA CLUUUUUUB! “King, there’s a very fine line between confidence and recklessness,” says Mak, “and Wildchild seems to walk that line, just like the tightropes he used to balance on as a circus star, every time he gets into that ring! And that style has served him very well since coming to the SWF!” “That may be true, Francis,” concedes King. “But, I’ll tell you what: the Fabulous Jakey, as I said before, has had time to prepare for this. This match isn’t going to be sprung on him like it was last month, when he found out less than forty-eight hours after winning the World Cruiserweight Championship that he was going to have to defend it on the very next show! I’m standing by my prediction; we’re going to see a very different result here tonight!” “I’m not so sure of that,” says Mak, as WC runs over to the nearby corner and deftly leaps onto the top turnbuckle in one fluid motion. “This young man is such a difficult opponent to prepare for; he is truly one of a kind! And King, he’s all offense; he’s not much in the way of defense… But he’s going to try and go full blast from the opening bell, and I don’t know whether Jakey will be able to handle that kind of offensive pressure!” “Well, there’s definitely a danger of letting Wildchild get into a groove,” says King, as WC backflips his way back into the ring, “because he may be the best frontrunner in the SWF today! But, being an all-offense guy can work against you, too: if Wildchild makes a mistake, Jakey can capitalize on it, and win his title back!” WC hands his Championship belt to referee Ronald “Red” Herrington, who holds it overhead to display to the fans before handing it to the departing Funyon; he then motions for the timekeeper to ring the bell, signifying the start of the match: DING! DING! DING! “Bell’s gone,” shouts Mak, “and we’re underway!” WC and Jakey meet in the center of the ring for a collar-and-elbow tie-up, which Wildchild immediately takes advantage of, shifting behind Jakey into a waistlock. Jakey, however, remembers what happened last month when he was in this predicament, and immediately responds by delivering an elbow to WC’s head to break the hold, and then quickly turns to face his opponent. “Nice anticipation by Jakey,” notes Mak. “How many times do you think he watched the tape of their last match?” “Well, everything that I hear about this kid is that he studies his losing matches intensely to try and figure out where he makes his mistakes, so I’d say quite a few.” Wildchild and Jakey meet once again in the center of the ring. This time, Jakey takes control with a side-headlock; Wildchild backs him against the ropes and pushes him across the ring. Jakey knocks him down as he rebounds and runs back towards the edge of the ring again, but this time, WC greets him as he bounces off the ropes with a Japanese-style armdrag! The Fabulous One pops back to his feet, only to get taken over in a hiptoss! Wildchild waits for Jakey to get back to his feet, before scooping him up off the canvas and planting him back down with a scoop slam! He immediately leaps off the canvas and extends his right leg to crash down into Jakey with a legdrop, and the rolls away from Jakey and onto his stomach, fluidly getting back to his feet as he hops back off the canvas, this time stretching out his left leg to hit a second straight legdrop! This time, Wildchild rolls atop Jakey and applies a lateral press, as Herrington dives into position to count: ONE! TWO! Jakey kicks out at two, and then rolls out to the arena floor, leaning against the ring barricade to gather himself. Fans surrounding the barricade give the Fabulous One the business, as Wildchild salutes everyone else by giving the high sign for the Wild Ride: DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! “Jakey made a couple of nice adjustments to start off this match,” notes Mak, “but the Wildchild showed that he can change it up as well!” Jakey climbs back into the ring and locks up with Wildchild. They lock up again, and the Jakey gets the better of it with a kneelift to the midsection. He tilts WC’s upper body upright, and then delivers a blistering open-hand slap to his chest! “There you go!” cheers King approvingly. “Jakey going to the rough stuff early… and I hope he keeps it up!” Jakey backs Wildchild into the ropes, keeping him off-balance with another couple of kneelifts, and then grabs him by the wrist to whip him across the ring. The Fabulous One lowers his shoulder to lift Wildchild into the air as he bounces off the ropes with a back-body drop, but WC adjusts himself in midair and lands on his feet behind his opponent; Jakey turns around just in time to get taken off his feet with a beautiful deep armdrag! “As you know, I’m not a big fan of high-flying in wrestling,” says King, “but if there’s one good thing that I can say that I like about Wildchild’s offense, it’s that he’s recently gotten a lot better about not wasting movement; he’s really starting to show some maturity, in that every now and then, the way he mixes up his high-flying with very basic wrestling holds. And even when he goes to the top rope nowadays, he’s a lot more patient; he doesn’t just go up there for the sake of being up there anymore.” Jakey negotiates his way back to his feet, and then backs Wildchild against the ropes; he grabs Wildchild by the wrist and whips him across the ring. Jakey hooks his arm underneath Wildchild’s as he bounces off the ropes and sends him over in a hiptoss… but WC lands on his feet and scoops the surprised Jakey into his arms! Wildchild slams Jakey down to the canvas, but the Fabulous One hooks his arm behind Wildchild’s legs as he comes down, and rolls him into an inside cradle! ONE! TWO! Wildchild kicks out at two! Jakey beats WC to his feet and takes him back over with a snapmare, following up immediately with a stiff punt-like kick to the spine! Jakey grabs WC by the back of the head and pulls him to his feet; he then traps Wildchild in a front facelock, before lifting him overhead and slamming the Champion back down with a snap suplex! Jakey floats over into a cover: ONE! TWO! Wildchild kicks out at two! Jakey pulls WC to his feet and grabs him by the wrist, whipping him across the ring into a neutral corner; he charges into the corner after the Champion… WHAM! But slams into the turnbuckles as the Bahama Bomber steps out of the way! “Jakey missed on that attack in the corner!” shouts King. “And the Wildchild catches him!” Wildchild slams a quick forearm into Jakey’s midsection as he turns around, and then follows it with a second and a third! Wildchild chops Jakey on the bridge of the nose, and then delivers an overhand chop to the top of his head, before grabbing Jakey on both sides of his face as he pulls his head back… CRACK! … And blasting the Fabulous One with a headbutt that sends him tumbling out to the arena floor! “Wow!” exclaims Mak. “Jakey got things off to a nice start, but Wildchild has turned this match around in a hurry!” WC runs across the ring, picking up speed as he bounces off the ropes, and leaps off the canvas as he approaches the edge of the ring on the opposite side; Jakey, anticipating the aerial attack, ducks away to safety, but the Caribbean Cruiser puts on the brakes at the last minute, grabbing onto the top rope and swinging safely to the apron. Jakey rushes at WC to try and clip his legs out from under him, but the Human Hurricane flips backwards off the apron to land on his feet behind Jakey… CRACK! … And then smashes the Fabulous One in the face with a spinning wheel kick as he spins around! “Good Grief!” exclaims Mak, as WC slams Jakey face-first into the hard rubber barricade. “That was unbelievable! That was some Matrix-type stuff there!” WC quickly dives back into the ring, somersaulting to his feet in one fluid motion and charging across the ring; he leaps into the air and sails over the top rope… WHAM! ... Crashing into Jakey with a spectacular Senton Splash that crushes the challenger between WC’s body weight and the barricade! Wildchild rolls over the top of Jakey and into the crowd, where appreciative Dominican fans pat him on the back… DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! “Unbelievable!” shouts Mak. “That was one of the most amazing sequences that I’ve ever seen!” Wildchild pulls Jakey off the arena floor and rolls him underneath the bottom rope. WC then climbs onto the apron and races over to the nearby corner. He leaps effortlessly to the top turnbuckle before diving down into the ring to drill Jakey between the eyes with a flying fistdrop! He hooks the leg as he applies a lateral press: ONE! TWO! Jakey kicks out at two! Wildchild pulls Jakey to his feet and leads him over to the corner, where he bashes Jakey’s face into the top turnbuckle! The Tropical Tumbler quickly leaps to the top turnbuckle as Jakey staggers out of the corner; WC then jumps onto Jakey’s shoulders from behind and locks his ankles behind the challenger’s head as he pitches forward, taking Jakey down with a phenomenal headscissors takeover variation! WC doesn’t even give Jakey a moment’s recovery time before he pulls Jakey to his feet and traps him in a front facelock; he then reaches down to grab the near leg and immediately takes Jakey over with a snap suplex! WC gets to his feet and returns to the apron, climbing up to the top rope and quickly leaping back into the ring… WHAM! … Smashing into Jakey’s forehead with a suicide headbutt! WC covers him again: ONE! TWO! THR— NO! “I’m starting to think that Jakey wasn’t quite ready for this!” says King, as WC pulls him back up and scoops him up into a slam. “I don’t think he did his homework on this guy!” The Bahama Bomber quickly backs into the nearby corner and pulls himself up to the middle turnbuckles before leaping back towards the Fabulous One, blasting him with a flying fistdrop! WC tries to cover him again: ONE! KICKOUT! “Nice to see that Jakey still had presence of mind to kick out of that,” says Mak. “That was also some good ring awareness to kick out at one!” “Definitely,” agrees King. “You never want to take a chance with that three-count if you’re capable of kicking out at one, especially with as incompetent as Herrington has been here lately!” WC pulls Jakey to his feet and grabs him by the back of the head, leading him over towards the edge of the ring, and then leaping over the top rope as he slams the Fabulous One’s neck into it with a Macho Man neck snap! “Devastating neck snap by WC!” praises Mak, as WC climbs back onto the apron. He leaps off the turnbuckle and drills Jakey between the eyes with a flying double-axe handle. “Wildchild has this match firmly under control… but why hasn’t he gone for the cover?” “He’s making a big mistake, in my opinion, says King. “He’s being very nonchalant about his opponent here, as if he believes that he can just turn it on every time he wants to.” “And, as we’re seeing in the NBA Playoffs, that doesn’t always work,” says Mak. WC pulls Jakey to his feet, but the Fabulous One stuns him with a rake of the eyes; he then scoops the Champion up, but Wildchild begins flailing his arms and legs, and Jakey can’t maintain his balance, falling backwards with WC atop him for an impromptu cover! ONE! TWO! Jakey kicks out at two! Wildchild pulls Jakey to his feet and whips him across the ring, stunning him with a spinning boot to the midsection as he bounces off the ropes; the Cruiserweight Champion suddenly flips backwards, swinging his leg overhead and smashing Jakey in the top of the head with a reverse Koppou Kick! “Tremendous bicycle kick by the Wildchild!” praises Mak. “But, once again, he doesn’t go for a cover, and that’s got to be a mistake!” “It’s a huge mistake,” adds King. “He’s going to pay the price for his hubris, mark my words!” Wildchild grabs Jakey by the wrist and whips him hard into the turnbuckles; WC lowers his head as Jakey staggers out of the corner and takes him up into the air with a back-body drop! The Fabulous One rolls onto his knees and begins begging off as Wildchild approaches him. “Jakey looking for a little bit of a timeout,” says Mak, as Wildchild draws nearer to his opponent. Jakey suddenly surges forward and stuns Wildchild with an eye rake! Jakey whips Wildchild into the ropes, but the Bahama Bomber leaps into the air explosively as he rebounds, knocking Jakey off his feet with a flying shoulder tackle! WC runs back towards the edge of the ring, and Jakey bellies out as he bounces off the ropes; the Fabulous One scrambles back to his feet and catches Wildchild in a bearhug as he rebounds a second time, before falling back… THWACK! … And clotheslining Wildchild on the top rope with a Hot Shot! “Tremendous move by Jakey!” shouts Mak, as Jakey gets back to his feet and runs to the ropes, leaping into the air as he rebounds, and bringing his full bill-and-six-dimes crashing down onto Wildchild’s chest with a double stomp! Jakey collapses atop him and applies a cover: ONE! TWO! Wildchild kicks out at two! Jakey looks over at the referee and implies a slow count. Wildchild tries to fire back with an overhand chop to the head, but Jakey kills his momentum quickly by burying a knee to the midsection! Jakey then shifts behind Wildchild and traps him in a waistlock; the Fabulous One pops his hips as he falls backwards to take Wildchild over in a German suplex, but the Bahama Bomber counters by flipping through the suplex attempt and landing on his feet! Before Jakey can even react, WC leaps off the canvas and crashes down onto his forehead with a diving headbutt! The fans begin cheering again as WC goes for a cover: ONE! TWO! Jakey kicks out at two! “Wildchild still appears to be controlling the pace of this match,” notes Mak, as WC pulls Jakey to his feet, “but, since the opening moments of the match, he hasn’t really done much to exert his will over Jakey.” “It’s almost like he’s wrestling defensively,” says King, “which is definitely not to his strength; he’s trying to wrestle not to lose, rather than to wrestle to win!” Wildchild pulls Jakey to his feet, but the Fabulous One counters into an arm wringer, and then quickly pulls the Champion backwards into a Russian legsweep! He then runs to the ropes, springing into the air as he bounces off and drills Wildchild in between the eyes with a running knee! Jakey goes for another pinfall: ONE! TWO! BUT ONLY GETS TWO! “Another near fall for Jakey,” says Mak, “as it appears that Jakey has found his stride in this match!” Jakey pulls Wildchild to his feet and delivers several crisp forearms to the chest, before running back towards the edge of the ring and leaping onto the second rope; the Fabulous One springs back into the ring to deliver a flying forearm smash, but WC still has presence of mind to duck out of the way! Wildchild meets Jakey as he gets to his feet with quick right hands! BAP! BAP! BAP! BAP! Wildchild backs Jakey into a corner and then whips him across the ring towards the other corner, but Jakey reverses, sending Wildchild rocketing into the corner… WHAM! … Where he crashes chest-first into the turnbuckles at an unbelievably high velocity! Wildchild bounces off the turnbuckles like a jet ball and collapses onto his back! Jakey staggers over to his opponent and falls atop him with a pinfall attempt: ONE! TWO! THREE— NO! “Two-count only,” says Mak, “but Jakey seems to be getting stronger with each passing move, and those kickouts are becoming less and less forceful on the part of the Wildchild!” “That tends to happen when you get your man worn down,” explains King. “Now, we’ll need to see whether or not Jakey has the killer instinct to extend this advantage.” Jakey lifts WC overhead into a vertical suplex position and takes a few steps away from the ropes, but instead of falling backwards, Jakey drops Wildchild forward onto the top rope, letting him bounce off before lifting him back overhead and driving him down to the canvas with a Slingshot Suplex! “Slingshot Suplex, nicely executed by Jakey,” remarks Francis, as Jakey twists his hips to roll onto his knees, whilst still maintaining control of the front facelock. “And it looks like he may be going for a second one!” Instead of going for another suplex, however, Jakey swings his arm from on top of WC’s neck in the front facelock position, to underneath his chin, and then suddenly brings it up sharply… SMACK! Blasting the Bahama Bomber with a European uppercut! Jakey raises his arm as he whips around suddenly, smacking Wildchild in the face with a spinning backfist and then, with his back to the Bahama Bomber, whipping around… CRACK! … And spiking WC in the face with a roundhouse kick! Jakey lays Wildchild flat and applies a cover: ONE! TWO! THR— NO! “Two-count only!” shouts Mak, as Jakey glares at the referee. “Boy, was that close!” “That was close,” agrees King angrily. “There appeared to be some hesitation on Red Herrington’s part on that count!” Jakey grabs WC’s lower body and hooks his hands underneath Wildchild’s legs as he rolls the Champion onto his back and into a Boston Crab! “Boston Crab!” reports Mak. “We could get a submission right here!” Red Herrington asks Wildchild if he wants to submit, but the Bahama Bomber shakes his head and squawks a negative response. “Wildchild’s trying to fight his way out of the Crab,” says Mak, “but I don’t think that he’s going to make it!” Wildchild flops about the canvas as if he had a broken wing, but is unable to free himself. Eventually, the flopping subsides. “And Wildchild isn’t usually vulnerable to these kinds of submissions,” says King, “but maybe Jakey’s done enough damage to actually be hurting Wildchild with this hold!” Wildchild plants his palms against the canvas, surprising Jakey as he pushes himself up a few inches as he tries to scoot closer to the edge of the ring. “Look at this!” exclaims Mak, as Wildchild pushes himself up a second time. “Wildchild’s making a move towards the ropes!” WC reaches out towards the ropes, but is nearly a full arm-length short, and realizes that he’s going to have to make one more push. “He’ll never make it,” insists King. Jakey tenses his body to try and make his weight more difficult for Wildchild to move, but the Bahama Bomber shifts his body to tilt towards the right as he pushes himself up, taking Jakey off-balance as he makes one more desperate push towards the ropes… Six more… Three more… Two more… ONE MORE! YEAAAAAAAAAAH! The fans cheer excitedly as Wildchild gets his fingers around the bottom rope! Red Herrington orders Jakey to let go, but the Fabulous One takes every bit of his five-count before finally letting go! “He made it,” says Mak, “but how much does he have left?” Jakey drags Wildchild away from the ropes and begins delivering a grueling series of kneedrops between WC’s shoulder blades! He then rolls Wildchild over onto his back and applies a lateral press: ONE! TWO! THREE! NO! WILDCHILD GETS THE SHOULDER UP! “This Wildchild is tough!” marvels Francis. “I thought that he was done there, for sure!” Jakey pulls Wildchild to his feet, but the Bahama Bomber stuns him with a rabbit punch to the midsection! “And look at Wildchild fire back!” shouts Mak, as WC delivers another shot to the midsection. Wildchild with a chop to the chest, followed by a headbutt which staggers the Fabulous One! Wildchild runs towards the edge of the ring… CRACK! … But Jakey raises his arm as he quickly spins around, blasting Wildchild in the face as he bounces off the ropes with a ferocious rolling elbow smash! “Big elbow by Jakey!” shouts King. “That could just about do it!” Jakey pulls Wildchild back to his feet and whips him towards a nearby corner, racing to the ropes as Wildchild staggers backwards towards the center of the ring, and leaps into the air as he rebounds, reaching for Wildchild’s neck to hit him with a running neckbreaker, but WC sidesteps him! Wildchild whips his leg through the air as Jakey turns around to deliver a roundhouse kick, but the Fabulous One catches his leg in mid-move… CRACK! … Only for the Bahama Bomber to whip his other leg through the air and blast Jakey in the face with a Gamengiri! Wildchild stands with his back to Jakey and springs off the canvas, crashing down onto his chest with a backflip splash! ONE! TWO! BUT ONLY GETS TWO! “Boy, I thought that Wildchild had him after that Gamengiri!” says Mak. “These two continue to go back and forth, and you have to wonder who will be able to come away with the win!” Wildchild pulls Jakey to his feet, but Jakey slips out of his grip and maneuvers behind him, lifting him overhead and slamming the Champion down onto his outstretched thigh with an Atomic Drop! The challenger then pulls WC’s hair from behind to trap him in an inverted front-facelock… WHAM! … And drops to the canvas, slamming the back of Wildchild’s head into the mat with a reverse DDT! “Reverse DDT!” shouts Mak. “That could be huge for the challenger!” “Well, Jakey’s had some great opportunities in this match,” says King, “but you have to wonder what it’s going to take for him to reach that next step and regain his title… You know, Jakey likes to utilize some of the more fast-paced offensive moves, which he really can’t do against Wildchild. And, as we saw earlier, Wildchild’s flexibility makes it difficult to beat him with most submissions… He’s proven to be vulnerable to a hard-hitting move, but Jakey doesn’t really have a lot of hard-hitting offense!” “That’s a great point, King,” agrees Mak. “Jakey’s entire battle plan tends to revolve around hitting the Jumping Jakey Flash, that DDT variation of his!” Jakey traps Wildchild in a double-underhook and then pops his hips as he falls backwards, taking the Bahama Bomber over with a Butterfly suplex! “Hey, give credit to Jakey!” praises King, as Jakey returns to a sitting position, still favoring his elbow. “A lot of guys would have stopped fighting when Wildchild started to make his comeback, but Jakey stuck it out and regained control of the match!” The Fabulous One gets to his feet and heads over to the nearby corner. “Why isn’t he going for the cover, though?” asks Mak, as Jakey begins to climb up the turnbuckles. “Obviously he doesn’t feel like he’s done enough to put Wildchild away,” replies King, “and he’s going to try and put the finishing touches on this match!” “But, by going to the top rope?” asks Mak incredulously. “I think this is a mistake, King!” “Not if he hits it!” The Fabulous One crosses his arms overhead to taunt the fans… WHAM! … And the Bahama Bomber suddenly gets to his feet, leaping onto the turnbuckles besides Jakey, grapevining his left leg as he grabs him in a side headlock, and falling backwards to slam Jakey into the canvas with a Russian legsweep! WC quickly rolls to his feet and hops off the canvas, crashing down across Jakey’s throat with a legdrop before finally collapsing exhaustedly. RAAAAAAAAAAH! “Big desperation move by the Wildchild!” exclaims Mak. “He caught Jakey being overconfident, and now he’s got a chance to turn this match around!” Red Herrington begins to deliver a ten-count to both men: ONE! TWO! THREE! “It’s anybody’s match at this point,” reflects King. “The next guy that hits a big move will probably win it!” SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT! Jakey sits up wearily! He crawls over to Wildchild and collapses atop him for a cover: ONE! TWO! Wildchild kicks out at two! Jakey pulls Wildchild to his feet and grabs him by the wrist, whipping him across the ring; he hangs onto WC’s arm and follows him into the ropes, greeting him as he rebounds with a kneelift to the midsection! Jakey whips Wildchild across the ring a second time, and buries another knee into his abdominal area as he comes off the ropes! Jakey then pulls WC away from the ropes and grapevines his near leg, and tries to hook a side headlock in order to apply a Russian legsweep, but the Bahama Bomber reaches across with his far arm to punch the Fabulous One in his belly! It takes a second belly punch, and then a third, before he can finally get free, and then Wildchild stuns him with a headbutt! WC then runs to the ropes, but Jakey sidesteps him as he rebounds and applies a waistlock; he pushes Wildchild across the ring and into the ropes, before pulling him backwards into a rolling cradle! “Rolling cradle!” shouts King. “This could be it!” ONE! TWO! Wildchild pushes Jakey off of him and into the ropes, scrambles behind him and hooks inside his leg as he staggers back and pulls him backwards into a schoolboy pin! ONE! TWO! THR— NO! Jakey kicks out at two and then beats Wildchild to his feet, smacking him in the face with a forearm smash that seems to hurt him more than his opponent; he does succeed in stunning Wildchild, though, and Jakey takes advantage to whip him into a nearby corner. Wildchild adeptly leaps onto the middle turnbuckle and springs back into the ring, body extended to deliver a cross-body block, but the Fabulous One catches him in midair, rolling through and reversing into a pinning predicament! “Excellent counter!” exclaims King, as Herrington dives into position to count: ONE! TWO! THREE! NO! “Wildchild came within an eyelash of being pinned there!” shouts Mak. “Boy, I thought Jakey had him!” Jakey pulls Wildchild to his feet and leads him over to the nearby corner; he grabs him by the back of the head to ram it into the top turnbuckle, but the Bahama Bomber gets his foot up on the middle turnbuckle to block it! He then counters by grabbing Jakey by the back of the head and slamming him face-first into the top turnbuckle! He grabs Jakey by the wrist and whips him across the ring, following him into the corner and leaping off the canvas, twisting in midair as he crushes Jakey against the turnbuckles with a Blue Crush! Wildchild runs to the ropes as Jakey staggers out of the corner and grabs him by the head as he leaps into the air… BANG! … Driving him face-first into the canvas with a bulldog! “Oh my goodness!” shouts Mak. “Wildchild has suddenly put it all together here!” WC quickly exits to the apron and climbs up to the top turnbuckle. “He’s going for the Bird Dropping!” shouts King. “If he hits this, it’ll be tough luck for Jakey!” Before WC can take flight, however, Jakey rolls out of the ring to safety. “Give credit to Jakey for having the presence of mind to get of the way of the Bird Dropping,” says Mak, as WC drops to the apron, and subsequently to the floor. “But look at Wildchild; he’s going after him!” Wildchild catches up to Jakey and spins him around, smashing him in the face with a hard right hand!” BAP! BAP! BAP! BAP! Wildchild grabs Jakey by the wrist and whips him across the arena floor towards the steel stairs! CLANG! … But Jakey reverses, sending WC into the stairs instead! “That was a big, big reversal by Jakey!” shouts King. “That could be the turning point!” Jakey pulls Wildchild up and rolls him underneath the bottom rope back into the ring; he then gets back up onto the apron and launches himself over the top rope, hooking WC as he sails into the ring with a slingshot Oklahoma Roll! ONE! TWO! Wildchild kicks out at two! Jakey pulls WC up and traps him in a front facelock, twisting his body around and driving the Champion into the canvas with a swinging neckbreaker! He floats over for another cover: ONE! TWO! THR—NO! “Another close count for Jakey,” says King, “but you can tell that he’s on the verge now!” Jakey whips Wildchild into the corner and takes his time to follow in after him; he talks a little trash to the Champion, and then delivers a humiliating slap, following it up with a series of stomps to the midsection. Jakey grabs WC by the wrist and whips him across the ring towards the opposite corner, but the Bahama Bomber leaps into the air as he approaches the corner and lands on the middle turnbuckles; in less than the second it takes Jakey to close the distance, WC springs backwards into the ring, crashing into his opponent with a flying cross-body block! … But Jakey reverses, pulling Wildchild into a cover! Herrington dives into position to make the count: ONE! “BEAUTIFUL reversal by Jakey!” praises King. “But Jakey has the tights!” shouts Mak. TWO! “Jakey has the damned tights!” THREE! DING! DING! DING! A shocked silence falls over the arena. Wildchild sits up and looks at the referee incredulously, but Herrington holds three fingers up to indicate the three-count; Jakey rolls out of the ring and heads over towards the timekeeper’s table, where he snatches the World Cruiserweight Championship away from the timekeeper and clutches it lovingly to his chest. “I can’t believe it!” exclaims Mak. “What a terrible miscarriage of justice!” “Unbelievable win by the Fabulous Jakey!” exclaims King. “A terrific counter at the end seals the deal, and Jakey has made history down here in the Dominican Republic!” “Terrific counter?” shrieks Mak. “He held the tights!” “It doesn’t matter!” crows King. “If the ref don’t see it, it’s legal!” “A very unfortunate turn of events for the Wildchild,” says Mak, as Herrington exits the ring to raise Jakey’s hand in victory. “However, as the Suicide King said, it will stand in the record books; we’ve got a new World Cruiserweight Champion, and his name is the Fabulous Jakey! Let’s get the official word!” DING! DING! DING! “The winner of this contest,” says Funyon, “and… NEEEEEW World Cruiserweight Champion… The FAAAAABULOUS JAAAAAKEY!” Jakey’s techno-inspired theme begins to play as the new Champion looks into the ring, taunting the former champion with the belt. BOOOOOOOOOO! “A tremendous win for the Fabulous Jakey in his first-ever Pay Per View match,” says King. “And he did it in what has to arguably be considered to be Wildchild’s home turf!” Jakey makes his way back up the ramp, still gloriously celebrating his win, leaving a dejected Wildchild in the middle of the ring… As we: FADE OUT

“I’m standing here with the Fabulous Jakey,” says Ben Hardy. “Who, in just a few moments, will be competing against Wildchild in a rematch for the SWF World Cruiserweight Championship! Now Jakey, you took exception to having to face Wildchild last month, only six days after winning the World Cruiserweight Title. Do you expect things to be any different here tonight?” “Not only do I expect things to be different,” says Jakey. “I’m going to guarantee it! Wildchild stole the belt from me last month! I wasn’t given time to prepare! But tonight, it’s going to be different: tonight the World Cruiserweight Championship is going back where it belongs… around MY waist!” With that, the Fabulous One walks off, his nose turned up in the air. “A very confident challenger on his way out to the ring!” says Hardy. “King, Mak, back to you!”

Francis: “As we continue on here with 13th Hour, we are going to show you footage from a match that took place before we went on the air tonight. It was Jay Hawke facing Zyon to determine the number one contender to the SWF International Championship.” King: “And it was a fantastic match, the matches between these two usually are.” Francis: “Indeed it was. Due to time constraints, we are only able to show highlights of this match. But we need to warn you. The footage you are about to see is very disturbing, particularly near the end of the contest. With that in mind, we take you to the footage.” *EARLIER TONIGHT* Funyon: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a 30-minute time limit, and it is to determine the number one contender to the SWF International Championship.” DING DING DING! Francis: “There’s the bell, and we are underway!” The two competitors lock up. Zyon uses leverage to take Jay Hawke over with an arm drag takedown. They lock up again. Zyon takes Jay Hawke over with another arm drag takedown. Hawke quickly gets to his feet, but Zyon catches him with a dropkick to the face that sends Hawke tumbling to the outside. King: “That’s a break for Hawke. That will allow him to get a breather.” As Hawke reaches his feet, Zyon flies over the top rope, landing onto Hawke with a picture-perfect pescadoe. “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” Francis: “There’s no such thing as a breather when you’re in the ring with Zyon! He’ll come at you from any angle you can think of, and possibly a few you haven’t!” Zyon spins in the air, leveling Hawke in the face with his boot. Francis: “Spinning wheel kick, snapping Hawke’s neck back, and he goes for the cover!” ONE! TWO! Francis: “Kickout!” King: “Much too early to get a pin over a guy like Jay Hawke this early!” Francis: “Snap suplex, and Zyon quickly into the pin!” ONE! TWO! Kickout. Francis: “And again only the count of two.” King: “A couple of pin attempts in the past minute or so, but for a shot at the International Championship, Hawke’s going to have to almost die to get beat in this one.” Zyon quickly drops an elbow across Jay Hawke’s chest, then stands up and backflips onto his prone opponent’s chest. Francis: “Standing moonsault, and another cover!” ONE! TWO! Kickout. King: “But still far too early in the match to put him away.” Zyon goes for a suplex, but Jay Hawke drives a knee into the midsection. He fires off a chop to the chest… “WHOO!” …then whips Zyon into the ropes on the opposite side. The Dean of Wrestling attempts to backdrop Zyon over the top rope to the floor, but Zyon lands on the apron. Jay Hawke celebrates as Zyon climbs up to the top rope, and as Hawke turns around, he’s met square in the face with two feet courtesy of a missile dropkick. “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” Zyon whips Jay Hawke into the turnbuckle. He charges, but Hawke catches Zyon, lifts him into the air, and drops him face first onto the top turnbuckle. Zyon drops to the mat, and his eyes roll into the back of his head. Francis: “Desperation move by Jay Hawke there, and that might turn the tide of this match in his favor.” Jay Hawke takes Zyon down with a swinging neck breaker and goes for the pin: ONE! TWO! Kickout. Jay Hawke stands on the middle turnbuckle, waiting for Zyon to make his way to his feet. Zyon turns around, and Hawke leaps, flipping forward in the air and taking Zyon down with the neck breaker. Francis: “Blockbuster by Jay Hawke, and he goes for the pin!” ONE! TWO! Kickout. Francis: “And only the count of two.” King: “Unusual strategy from Jay Hawke. Normally the focus is on the shoulder, but ever since the modified Hotshot into the corner, the focus has been on the head and neck.” Jay Hawke whips Zyon into the turnbuckle, but quick as a cat, Zyon runs up the turnbuckle and takes off, landing on his opponent with a beautiful corkscrew moonsault. Francis: “No Regard!” King: “Aptly named too! He has no regard for his body or his opponent’s!” Zyon clotheslines Jay Hawke over the top rope and to the concrete floor. King: “I’d say this is a chance for Jay Hawke to take a breather, but he proved me wrong earlier!” And in fact, Zyon climbs up to the top rope. He leaps, but Jay Hawke moves out of the way, causing Zyon to hit the metal guardrail face-first. Francis: “Oh no!” Somehow Zyon is still on his feet, but a roundhouse kick to the face changes that. Zyon hits the ground hard, the back of the head smacking it to a sickening thud. King: “Man, what a kick.” Zyon tries to pull himself to his feet, but his eyes look completely glazed over as he slumps back to the floor. Francis: “He’s hurt.” Jay Hawke rolls Zyon into the ring, hanging his head and neck over the ring apron. The Dean of Wrestling steps up onto the apron, then jumps off of it, dropping a leg across the head and neck. Francis: “Across the head and neck again, and I think Zyon might have a concussion.” King: “And the referee has the ability to stop the match if he thinks Zyon is unable to defend himself. Obviously he doesn’t feel he’s at that point yet.” Jay Hawke pulls Zyon to the center of the ring, and he sets him up in a standing head scissors. He then picks him up, holds him upside down for a few seconds, and then drops down, driving Zyon’s head into the mat with a piledriver. Francis: “Another shot to the head! Come on, referee, stop the match!” Jay Hawke moves into the cover. King: “Don’t worry. Jay Hawke’s going to take the decision out of the referee’s hands.” ONE! TWO! Shoulder up. Francis: “Only a count of two, and that fighting spirit of Zyon might be getting the best of him here!” With Zyon barely standing, Jay Hawke gets a running start and takes Zyon down with a running knee lift. Zyon looks like he doesn’t know where he is as Jay Hawke goes for the pin again: ONE! TWO! Kickout. “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” King: “The crowd might be cheering for Zyon kicking out that one, but it’s instinct. There’s no way he has any idea where he is right now.” Jay Hawke charges a staggering Zyon, but Zyon catches him coming in with a super kick. “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” Francis: “Is that the move that turns the tide?” King: “We’ll find out, Mak!” Zyon holds his head as he attempts to climb to the top rope. He stands on the top turnbuckle, then stumbles, falling to the concrete floor. Francis: “That’s it. Stop the match.” The referee moves in to see if Zyon is able to continue, but Jay Hawke shoves him out of the way. He locks the unique youth into a front face lock, and after a few seconds, he drops him down on his head. Francis: “My God. What a DDT.” King: “And I don’t want to alarm you, Mak, but the last time Hawke executed that particular DDT, Insane Luchador missed several months of action.” Jay Hawke moves in for the cover. ONE! TWO! THREE! DING DING DING! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Funyon: “In 11 minutes and 49 seconds, the winner of the match, and the number one contender for the SWF International Championship … JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY HAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWKE!” As the trainer takes a look at Zyon’s eyes, Zyon begins to pull himself to his feet, only to stumble into the ropes. The crowd begins to applaud Zyon, respecting the effort he put forth despite clearly being loopy. *LIVE* Francis: “That was earlier tonight, and according to reports we heard earlier tonight, Zyon apparently does have a concussion, but we’re not sure of the severity at this point.” King: “Simply put, if it’s a minor concussion, Zyon might be out a week to ten days. If it’s more severe…who knows how long he might end up being out of action?” Francis: “As it goes though, Jay Hawke is now the number one contender to the International Championship, and should Alan Clark not win the World Title tonight, Hawke will get the next shot at it.” King: “And if Clark does win the title, Hawke wins it by forfeit, right?” Francis: “We’d have to hear from Tom Flesher on that, but we still have more great action to come before we can even get to that point.”

The Estadio Felix Sanchez (Or Giraffe-Hat Park in American-talk) pulsates with excitement as 13th Hour presses on. As a video package for Toxxic and Gabriel Drake's epic rematch winds down, the lights drop down in preparation for the next match. "It's time for our first of several title matches tonight, King, and strangely enough, Insane Luchador isn't set to challenge Jimmy the Doom for the Hardcore belt," Mak says. "I think that after Doom thumped Luchador about fifty times in a row, IL decided to stay as far away from the Hardcore title scene as possible," King says. All talk betwixt the commentators stops as a gravelly roar cuts through the crowd. Another guttural growl brings Cephalic Carnage's "Scientific Remote Viewing" into full swing, flashing white strobe lights and thick smoke following. "Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall and is for the Hardcore championship! Introducing first, from Denver, Colorado, and weighing two hundred, thirty pounds, the Savage Messiah, MMMAAAAAAAANSON!" Funyon booms. MANSON stomps down the ramp, ignoring the jeers hurled at him. The Stampede slides under the bottom rope, climbs to his feet and flips back the hood on his cloak, metal mask glinting in the flashing lights. MANSON slips out of his cloak and thrusts his crooked baseball bat in the air. Referee Johnny Dangerously takes the cloak and moves it to a corner of the ring. The lights return to normal for just a moment before plunging into darkness again. BOOM! Pyrotechnics explode around the stage, launching a cloud of red and gold stars to the ceiling as "Street Fighting Man" cranks over the speakers. The lights come back to full strength, pulsing to the beat, and Austin Sly emerges from behind the curtain to a hail of boos. "Everywhere I hear the sounnd of marching, charging feet boooooy..." "Cause summer's here and the time is right for fighting in the street boooooy" "Hey, King, where's MANSON?" Mak asks. "Uh-oh. Sly is in trouble," King says. "I can't see how we keep that psychopath employed. He's a danger to everyone in this building, not just the wrestlers," Mak says. "Introducing the next opponent, from Saint Louis, Missouri, he weighs two hundred, thirty-seven pounds and represents Revolution Zero, AAUUUSTIN SLYYYY!" Funyon shouts. Sly walks down the ramp and just notices the absence of Mr. OSITY. Austin stops midway and scans for his opponent. Sly isn't helped as the lights dim once more. The sound of marching feet and chanting voices pounds through the arena. Doom! Doom! SYLLABICATE! Doom! TRIPTYCH! DERMATITIS! Doom! The lights snap back on to reveal druids surrounding the ring and MANSON, bat in hand, standing above Austin Sly. Boots Randolph's "Yakety Sax" blares over the speakers and Jimmy the Doom races down the ramp. "And finally, being accompanied by Lois the Unethical, from Doomopolis, Doomtopia, he weighs two hundred, thirty pounds and is the current and longest reigning Hardcore champion, the Straight-Bread Sensation, JJJIIIIIMMMMMMYYYY THE DOOOOOM!" Funyon roars. Jimmy leaps at MANSON, limbs akimbo, and wraps the King of Braves up in a body scissors. Lois the Unethical tentatively steps out, then races down the ramp to avoid the action. She hands the belt to Funyon and takes a seat, eager to catch up on some quality nap time. Due to falls counting anywhere on the planet, Dangerously calls for the bell and races towards the competitors. Ding! Ding! Ding! Doom adds a bearhug to MANSON, but isn't doing much in the way of actual damage. MANSON leaps into the air and falls forward, smashing the Straight-Breader into the ramp. FARINACEOUS! Doom quickly rolls MANSON over, slides off the scissors, and rises to his feet, bringing the God Machine up as well. Jimmy lifts MANSON, pivots, and drives him down with a belly to belly slam. INCOMMUNICADO! "We haven't seen Jimmy in action in recent weeks, but he doesn't appear to be suffering any ring rust," Mak says. "How can you tell? His strategy has always been to let his opponent get tired by smashing him in the head, and then finish the match with something idiotic. If he goes down to a DDT then we'll know he was rusty," King says. Jimmy gets to his knees and drives a forearm into MANSON'S chest. Doom pops the Stampede with another shot to the chest, then cracks him in the face. Jimmy takes two fistfuls of MANSON'S hair and slams the back of his head into the ramp. TUMESCENCE! Jimmy begins to pull MANSON up for another slam, but the King of Braves digs both thumbs into Doom's eyes, causing the champ to release him. MANSON slides back a few feet and smacks Doom with a boot to the jaw. MANSON scrambles to his feet and snatches up the previously discarded baseball bat. As Doom shakes off the blow, the Raging Bull steams forward and bashes him with the bat. OPPROBRIUM! "My God! MANSON nearly took Jimmy's head off!" Mak shouts. "I'm with you Mak. MANSON is my God now," King says. MANSON stands over Doom and cracks him with the bat again as Sly clambers to his feet. PANACEA! The Stampede lifts the bat again, but Austin stumbles forward, slapping on a rear waistlock. Sly pops his hips and drives MANSON into the ramp with a suplex and bridges up for a pin attempt. MALEDICTION! One! T-No! "Kick out from MANSON, and maybe Sly can get some revenge on him for that sneak attack," Mak says. "Don't kid yourself, Mak. Sly has no chance of surviving another encounter with MANSON. And I don't mean surviving with a win, I mean remaining alive," King says. Sly gets to his feet, wrestles the bat out of MANSON's grasp, and cracks him in the ribs with it. Sly then goes low, nailing MANSON in the left knee with the bat. Austin flings the bat down the ramp and pulls the Savage Messiah to his feet. Sly smacks him with a right hook, only for MANSON to respond with a punch of his own. MANSON fires off another punch, then an elbow that sends Austin stumbling backwards. The Raging Bull gives chase and knocks Sly down with a Yakuza kick. PANEGYRIC! "See, Mak? Told you so," King says. "MANSON is taking it to Sly, but I've never known Austin to give up without a fight. Besides, how many times has Jimmy the Doom stayed down for long?" Mak asks. "Eight hours every night," King says. "Sleeping doesn't count, King," Mak says. The Doomtopian rises to his feet and lunges for MANSON as the God Machine stalks after Sly. Jimmy catches him with a shotei, causing Mr. OSITY to wheel around, nailing the champ with an elbow. FRIPPERY! MANSON nails Jimmy with a right hand, then a left, but Doom grabs MANSON'S wrist. Jimmy laces a kick into the Stampede's ribs, then whips him up the ramp. MANSON turns around and catches a corkscrew elbow from the Hardcore champ. SEMAPHORE! The Straight-Breader gets some room with a double palm thrust, then leaps at MANSON, right foot extended. Jimmy plants the sole of his boot on the God Machine's chest and shoves him backwards. The King of Braves stumbles as he reaches the edge of the stage, but momentum is a cruel mistress, and MANSON takes a tumble. TENDENTIOUS! "Holy shit! MANSON just fell well over twenty feet! He could be seriously injured!" Mak yells. "I didn't think it was possible for a mortal to injure MANSON. Anyway, this has broken the match wide open for Doom to retain, or possibly for Sly to pull off an upset," King says. Dangerously peers over the stage at MANSON sprawled out on the ground, but the match must continue. Jimmy backs away and walks down the ramp as Sly gets to his feet. Austin charges and nails Doom with a clothesline. CNIDARIAN! Sly boots Doom in the head, then peels him off the ramp. Austin bends Jimmy double, hooks both gangly arms, and drops down with a DDT. Sly flips the Doomtopian onto his back and makes a lateral press. UNGULATE! One! Two-No! "Doom gets a shoulder up, and he might be shaken after what happened to MANSON. Jimmy's taken only other other person off the stage if memory serves, but that was The Crimson Skull and it was to save Lois the Unethical. I know Doom enjoys being a champion, but I don't think he wants to seriously hurt anyone to stay that way," Mak says. "Then he's a hippie loser," King replies. "That's a bit harsh, King. Doom has been a bit rough at times, but his track record has never shown him to be overly sadistic or violent," Mak says. "I know, like I said, hippie loser. For God's sake, Francis, a damn figure skater has more blood lust than he does! Actually, that wouldn't be a half bad match: Tanya Harding versus Jimmy the Doom in a metal pipe thing on a pole match. Of course, Harding hasn't been relevant for years," King mutters. Sly picks Doom up again, and once more, bends the champ double. Austin slaps on a standing headscissors, wraps his arms around Doom, and lifts the Straight-Bread Sensation. Austin breaks into a sprint and drives Jimmy into the ground, sitting out for a pinning combination. PAUCITY! One! Two! Three-No! "Doom kicked out! Sly doesn't break out that running sit-out powerbomb often, but it almost gets the win when he does. Of course, against Jimmy the Doom, not many moves have taken care of him," Mak says. "Hit him with a car!" King shouts. "I guess you aren't content with one person being injured in this match," Mak says. "No, not a real car. I mean one of those die-cast Hot Wheels cars. A few of those in a sock, and baby, you've got trouble," King says. Sly screams at Dangerously over the speed of the count, but Johnny doesn't buckle (So that's why his pants keep falling down). Austin turns his attention back on Jimmy and drags the champ to the edge of the ramp. Sly pulls Doom towards the ring, then scrambles to the apron. Austin checks over his shoulder to make sure Doom's in place and MANSON isn't flying towards him, then springs onto the top rope. Sly flips off and crashes down onto empty concrete. JABOT! "Austin Sly just crashed and burned on the Sky Surfer as Jimmy managed to roll out of the way just in the nick of time!" Mak shouts. "Hey! Now as an Irish-American, I find that offensive!" King screams. "What are you talking about?" Mak asks. "That slur you used. 'Mick' is hurtful, Mak. As an African-American, I thought you'd be more sensitive to such issues," King says. "I am, and King, I said 'nick' of time," Mak explains. "Oh. That makes more sense. Also, I actually German and English," King says. "Just wanted to cause some controversy." Jimmy slowly pulls himself up and shakes his head clear. Doom yanks Sly off the ground and launches him into the ring steps, dislodging them. JITNEY! Doom walks towards Austin, picks him up and plants Sly with a choke-lift powerbomb. DILATORINESS! One! Two! Thr-No! "Jimmy Bomb only gets a two count for the champ, and it looks like he's put knocking MANSON off the stage out of his mind for the time being," Mak says. "If he wants to keep his title he'll do the same to Sly and pin one of 'em," King says. "No, that's what you would do if you wanted to keep a title," Mak says. Jimmy reaches down to grab Sly, but Doom gets nailed in the crotch. The champ stumbles away, allowing Austin the space and time to get to his feet. Sly pops Doom with a European uppercut, then ducks his head and wraps Jimmy in a front waistlock. Austin thrusts his hips and drives Doom into the ground, bridging for a pin. DIBBLE! One! Two! Three-No! "Northern Lights suplex almost won the title for Sly, but Jimmy is resilient as ever," Mak says. "Sly should put Doom on the ground then put the ring steps on top of his arms so Jimmy can't get his shoulders up," King says. "Sounds odd, but it would probably work," Mak says. "Of course it would work, I'm a genius at this stuff!" King shouts. "As evidenced by your sole World Heavyweight title reign," Mak points out. Sly pulls Jimmy to his feet as MANSON rolls onto his stomach and crawls a few feet towards the ring. Austin presses Doom against the side of the ring and cracks him with a forearm. JOCOSITY! Jimmy rears back and smacks Sly with a headbutt as MANSON continues to slowly drag himself to the ring. KAPOK! Doom pops Austin with a palm to the jaw, then nails him with a roundhouse kick. DIAPASON! "Austin Sly doesn't want to get in a striking battle with Jimmy the Doom unless he plans on getting his face rearranged. Not many people can stand toe to toe with the Doomtopian for long and come out the victor," Mak says. "Maybe that's because there haven't been many people named Vic in this federation," King states. Sly eats a shotei but buries a fist in Doom's gut, doubling him over. Austin slaps on a facelock and drops. KIBITZER! Austin flips Doom over, hooks his leg, and makes a lateral press. One! Two! Three-No! "Doom gets his shoulder up again! Sly might want to try for that sit-out powerbomb again or maybe the So-Cal," Mak says. "Or that stair thing I said earlier," King says. Sly pulls Jimmy back up as MANSON pulls himself closer and closer to the ring. Austin grabs for Doom's head, but the Straight-Bread Sensation snakes out his right hand, jabbing Sly in the throat. Sputtering, Austin staggers backwards. Doom reaches out, spins Austin upside down then rightside up and drops to one knee. Jimmy takes hold of Sly's hair and slams him to the ground as MANSON drags himself up onto the ramp. DIATHERMY! "Doom Factor from the champion! This might be it," Mak says. "Hold the phone, Francis, MANSON is back on the ramp," King points out. "Holy crap, how'd that happen?" Mak wonders. "You really doubt MANSON? He is magic, after all," King says. The Hardcore champ rolls Sly over, but before he makes a cover, he spots the Stampede clambering to his feet. Jimmy shoves Austin under the ring and sprints towards the King of Braves. Unable to run, let alone jog, MANSON power walks down the ramp, right arm outstretched. "MANSON setting up for the Iron Cutting Sword, that devastating lariat, but he doesn't have much speed," Mak says. "So? MANSON doesn't need to be sprinting for the Zantetsuken to destroy someone," King says. Jimmy leaps in the air, arms and legs stretched wide. Doom wraps his extremities around the Raging Bull, the impact knocking him over. KISMET! The Doomtopian clasps his wrists and crosses his wrists, squeezing tight on the Savage Messiah. Grimacing in pain, MANSON pounds his fist into the cold steel of the ramp, catching Dangerously off guard. The ref finally realizes the Savage Messiah has submitted and calls for the bell. Ding! Ding! Ding! "Ladies and gentlemen, the winner, and still Hardcore champion, the Straight-Bread Sensation, JJJJIIIIMMMMYYY THE DOOOOOM!" Funyon roars. "How did he just win?" King asks. "Well, MANSON landed on his back, and he had some strong arms pressing into his spine," Mak says. "Yeah, but Jimmy the Doom isn't allowed to win with a submission hold," King says. "You know, because he's Jimmy the Doom." Doom rises to his feet, takes Lois by the hand and heads up the ramp as "Yakety Sax" blares. Medical personnel rush to check on MANSON as a video for Maddix versus Clark versus Dangerous plays.

Earlier. "I lost my direction, my goal was no longer in my sights," says MANSON prior to the start of 13th Hour in a typical darkened locker room, as he sits on a metal folding chair, "Everything was going down and I couldn't trust what they told me anymore. I had been abandoned and was quickly losing faith." "And now I know that, looking back on his past, what happened to Silver was retribution, don't blame me, blame him! I was there at that time because I was delivering justice, it was a simple judgement… at the time, the moment I attacked… is because it was fate. Edward James, though he did nothing wrong, like Silver, he met doom because it was needed. Yeah, James and Silver, however deserved, are nothing but statistics…" "With Silver's blood still on my knuckles, Edward's blood still on my bat, their screams continuing to pulse in my ears, they're testaments to the day I grabbed fate and took destiny, laying down my rule and telling them who I was and what I was there to do! Your Champion is also one, a statistic, though one with something I want, but still, everyone is asking 'Why? Why them, why now?!'" "Frankly," he says, laughing to himself, "even I have no idea. I just don't, but after that loss… that loss to fucking Wild and Dangerous, you know the one, I know you do, something… it went off… in my mind. He's the one I've been waiting years to get my hands on and break his damn neck like he did me, but then… then… as I said to Johnson after, 'How?! HOW?!' Let me spell it out, okay?!" "Looking for a reason to stay, any reason, I found nothing. I was already gone, intent on abandoning this sinking ship and saving myself before this place ate me alive, and with a heavy offer from OAO… well, I nearly did it, yes I did, but I couldn't let myself be tempted, and it was hard… what was worse was the realization…" "See, I'm already done for, my heart and soul are tainted, my body is withered and broken. I could no longer forgive myself for my past and as this dawned on me, the time and chances slipping by, I was miserable. Even then, as I tried to prove the Professor was fake and would only lead Nemesis to ruin, it was a while ago, I know… but even then I already knew. I already knew my own heart was as charred as his. Even as I tried to escape, I was already a victim of the SWF, of my life… I was burning to death as I stood in these flames. It was killing me, but I pretended… really, I'm not the type to carry the burden… even I couldn't guide anyone through this pit if I was already on fire myself." "This. Just prior to Maddix, this was the moment of truth, of clarity. If I couldn't save, couldn't offer salvation, what else was there? Huh? There was only one path…" he says, taking in a breath, "I had to be the one to destroy and maim. The only option was to take those flames and turn them back on the world itself, man. The only way, I think, is not to rule a kingdom in heaven, but one in hell. I'm the one introducing suffering, fear, a nightmare world drowning in blood, yeah." "Those two, James and Silver are done. They can be thankful they escaped with their life and try to live, but to me they no longer exist, they did their part. Now, Clark. Wildchild and Dangerous. Jakey if he can take care of you tonight, WC, and though Johnson is out, if he ever makes his way back we may head after those belts once again, yeah. Those are some of the REAL interesting ones, but don't think I forgot about you, Landon, not by a long shot. Not since me and Johnson wrecked you… hell, not since I literally killed you in a match way back, have I forgotten. So where's my shot, huh?! I did it Tom Flesher, I did it for the SWF, didn't I, but where's my shot?! I did the job, Flesher… where… but… I… not to worry, I'll get it eventually, Maddix, even if I have to stomp on everyone from here to there and take it by the throat!" "Yeah. Yeah. I'm coming for you, Maddix. I'm after everyone in the meantime who may stand between me and destiny. I may fall, but no matter what I'm coming through it all the winner, totally unscathed, because nothing can stop me and I'm already burnt anyway. I'm ruthless, raging and unstoppable, a fucking inferno cutting a swath of destruction. I know what I'm to do and I know I'll come down on the right side. And anyone who obstructs me will be just another addition to the list. If MANSONOSITY is willing, naturally I'll be starting with you two, Jimmy The Doom and Austin Sly." "I'm carrying the world not as a saviour, but as the one who turns time itself with my hand by motivating and initiating mankind. Through my force of will and power which makes Olympus shake, I'm controlling the ages, time and space are bent to my will. Everyone is a statistic only waiting to be sacrificed, carried off to the chopping block whenever I want. It's clear now, yeah?! I'm the poisonous snake in the grass your mother warned you about, a deceiver and liar to the core, I can be either your best friend or worst enemy… and a beast, a destroyer of worlds… the one who keeps cosmos and stars in check, knowing all and obliterating as I see fit… then doing it all over again because I'm the one behind the universe… to fuck with me is to fuck with a force of nature. IN short, rather than trying to lead the SWF, saving everyone from themselves and introducing light, I'm best suited to… introducing chaos and burning it all to the ground."

-=-=-=-=- As the ad for Frost Brand Women's Underwear fades out, we swing back to Mak Francis and the Suicide King at ringside, with the PPV-hyped crowd going nuts all around them. "Welcome back everybody - up next we've got a late addition to the card. As we saw a while ago, earlier today Chris Raynor petitioned the commissioner for a chance to return. Tom signed off on it, and as an added bonus, set up Raynor's first match for tonight!" ... "... no comment, King?" "Well," the Suicide King snidely replies, "the last time he was in action, he played a pretty large role in losing our match at Genesis V. That's what I plan on remembering him as - a guy who's blown the big one. Twice." "That's a little harsh, King. I mean-" "They had Landon, Mak. LANDON." "In any event, it looks like we're ready to get this underway!" The view pulls back to show Funyon, in a hideous Hawaiian t-shirt and beach shorts. "The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first..." Look at you looking at me You seem so full of intrigue ... Isle of Q's "Rubberneck" graces the SWF for the very first time, as it heralds the return of Chris Raynor... the last time he stood before the fans was over two years ago, at Genesis V - have the fans warmed up to him at all in the intervening time? BOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Nope. As he swats the curtain aside and steps out, the reaction from the fans is about what he expected - rather than dwell on it, though, he keeps his eyes on the ring, and walks straight down without a moment's hesitation. "Raynor said he's come back to try and get his name in the record books," Mak says, jogging our memory, "so I imagine he's not going to be too preoccupied with making friends here tonight." "And his oppone-" A backstage lackey suddenly bursts from the curtain and sprints down the ramp, frantically waving an index card! Funyon leans over the ropes and plucks it from his hand... "Uh... not sure what's going on here," Mak says, as Funyon reads the card, looking at first puzzled, then grinning. "Cancelled. Cancelled. Please say it was cancelled," King pleads, with his fingers crossed. Funyon hands the card back to the kid and sends him away, then takes a few steps away from Raynor for safety before bringing the mic back up and... "Correction: Introducing his PARTNER!" The Suicide King's head heads straight for the table, before being intercepted by Mak Francis's hands. "King, no! If you're going to try and beat yourself into unconsciousness, use the Spanish Announce table." Fair to Midland's "Dance of the Manatee" stomps its way on out of the speakers, and in a sight that would make a grown man cry had it not already happened once before, a manatee swings out from the rafters. "Hailing from the waters of the Caribbean... weighing in at approximately twelve hundred pounds... he is MATT... THE MANATEEEEEEEE... MYYYYYEEEERS!" "... forget what I said, King. Pound away." *BANG* The gigantic grey lump with barely discernable fins and eye holes swirls over the sold-out crowd, making a full rotation around the arena before slowly descending to the ring, landing right next to his tag team partner, who's reaction could accurately be described as WTFBBQ. Funyon helps Manatee remove his cables, which of course allows Myers to fall flat on his face. After struggling for a few moments, he looks up at Raynor, shrugs, and rolls out of the ring. "Looks like Myers is wisely defaulting to the expert here." "Like he's got a choice!" "And their opponents..." The faint electronic opening of Andrea Johnson's "Glorious" seeps across the arena - a few moments later, as the song begins proper, Rikard Fleihr and Olaf Anderson appear onstage. If anyone is less happy about this situation than Raynor, it's these two, as the prospect of fighting a man in a manatee suit is slightly more repugnant than the notion of teaming with him. Nevertheless, they head down the ramp with a certain air of confidence. "Weighing in at a total combined weight of four hundred and seventy-three pounds... they are one half of the Four Norsemen... Rikard Fleihr, and Olaf ANDersoooooon!" Raynor walks back to his corner and leans over the top rope, pleading with his partner to "Please, for the love of God, get up." Myers just gurgles and waves a fin in his general direction. Across the ring, Rik and Olaf exchange a few words, then Olaf backs off and heads to the Norsemen's corner. "So it looks like it'll be Rik starting for the Norseman, and Raynor starting for... um... what should we call them, King?" "The Joker and the Choker?" "Ouch." *DING DING DING* Raynor gives up and turns his attention to Rik, now standing ready in the center of the ring. After a few moments of sizing each other up, they move in for the collar-and-elbow tie-up - Rik ducks in and goes for the arm-drag takeover, but Raynor pushes him back. Fleihr rides with the momentum, hits the ropes and comes back, cleanly ducking an attempted clothesline! He throws his arms back to try and catch Raynor in a quick neckbreaker, but the Rayn-man again manages to force the Norsemen off! Rik rebounds into the ropes again and ducks a second clothesline - this time Raynor instinctively throws his elbow back to counter a neckbrecker, but Rik sees it coming and hooks Raynor's arm as it comes back, then tosses him down to the mat! "Nice exchange to open things up-," Mak starts to break it down, but is quickly overwhelmed by the fast-growing chant sweeping the crowd. "MAN-A-TEE! MAN-A-TEE! MAN-A-TEE!" Raynor quickly gets back to his feet, but Rik is quicker, diving into the veteran and pushing him back into the Norsemen's corner! Olaf immediately puts his hands in the air, showing the ref he has nothing but the purest of intentions - Rik begins wailing on Raynor in the corner, then applies a blatant choke! ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIV- just before the E, Rik lets it go, and the referee gets between them to move Rik off. Olaf's hands stay in plain sight, but the opportunity for foul play is too sweet to pass up, and he delivers a sharp kick into the back of Raynor's right knee! Raynor crumbles to the mat, then rebounds and takes a wild swing - Olaf drops to the floor, providing all the distraction needed for Rik to come in from behind and club Raynor on the back of the neck! He then grabs the Caveman's arm, whips him around, and heaves him across the ring. Raynor crashes chest-first into his own corner, then instinctively waves a hand out to tag his partner- Oh, right. He turns around just in time to eat a running shoulderblock to the gut! A second, a third, a fourth, and finally Raynor collapses in the corner. Rik throws a few boots into his gut, then takes a moment to reflect... We've gone almost 30 seconds without some form of illegal activity - Fleihr aims to amend this with a boot pressed squarely across his opponent's throat! ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIV- ah, there we go. "King, I hate to say it, but I have to wonder if maybe Tom's impressions were right. Raynor hasn't been able to get much of anything going thus far." "But he's Chris Raynor! The tag team legend! Hell, I've heard him boast that he could carry a manatee to a tag title reign before!" "You have not." "Are you forgetting the whole panda thing? That was Raynor." "... point taken." Rik yanks his foe up by the arm and swings him across the ring once more. Raynor crashes into the Norsemen's corner, and slumps to the canvas once again. Rik starts to follow up, but Raynor suddenly points an accusing finger in his direction, and shouts to the ref! "What the- what's Raynor saying?" The referee gets between the two and pushes Rik back, then points down at his boot! "It's loaded!" Raynor shouts from across the ring - Rik protests, but the ref demands it be removed for inspection! Fleihr furiously works at the laces, giving a subtle nod to his partner as he does so. Olaf's hands assume the innocent pose, but he rears his leg back again- -and just as he does, Raynor lashes out with his elbow and cracks the one leg Olaf's still got planted on the canvas! Gravity does the rest of the work, as Anderson's legs give way and he falls to the floor, cracking his chin on the ring apron! The crowd responds in the approriate manner: "MAN-A-TEE! MAN-A-TEE!" Rik, now aware of his partner's failure, lunges across the ring but the ref holds him back, demanding that the boot be inspected! Rik rips at the laces for a moment, then just grabs the bottom and forces it off, laces be damned, then thrusts it into the ref's face! The ref steps aside to examine it - no sooner does he step out of the way than Raynor launches himself across the ring on his good foot and levels Rik with an elbow to the face! He then yanks Flair back up and shoves him into the ManaTeam's corner - sensing his luck with the boot is about to run out, Raynor grabs the top ropes, leaps up, then drops both boots and all of his weight straight down on Fleihr's unprotected foot!" "MAN-A-TEE! MAN-A-TEE!" Rik falls to the mat and clutches his foot, howling in pain - satisfied that the boot is legit, the referee heads back to Rik and drops the boot down in front of him, apparently not too troubled with this recent turn of events. What does trouble him is the curious lack of Raynor inside the ring. "Where is he going, King?" "... where do you think, Mak? It's not enough that we have a manatee booked tonight - we have to give him a partner stupid enough to tag him in." Against the manatees curiously human sounding protests, Raynor grabs Mattatee Myers and begins dragging him up the ringsteps to the corner! He props Myers up against the ropes, steps back into the ring- "MAN-A-TEE! MAN-A-TEE!" *SLAP* YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! And slaps Myer's involuntarily available fin! The crowd actually cheers for the first time in this match, as Raynor drags Rik back to his feet, and launches him into a neutral corner! "ONE!" Huh? "TWO!" Oh crap. "THREE!" "Myers is getting counted out!" Mak cries as the King just howls with laughter. "Raynor tagged out, but Myers still isn't in the ring!" "FOUR!" Thinking quickly, Raynor carefully drags Myers to the center of the apron- "FIVE!" -then grabs the top rope and drops to the mat! Myers, leaning helplessly against the ropes, has no say in the matter as he falls over the top and flops into the ring! "Great plan, you moron," King chides. "I'm sure NO ONE will be able to pin a twelve-hundred pound blob THAT CAN'T MOVE." On the outside, Olaf Anderson climbs back onto his corner, nursing a bloody lip and a cracked tooth, while Rik starts to come to his senses in the neutral corner. Raynor submits to the referee's demands that he exit the ring, calmly posting himself in his corner. Rik shakes his head a few times - either trying to clear the cobwebs or trying to figure out what a manatee is doing flopping around in the ring. He shoots a confused look to his partner, who just shrugs... Suspecting a trap, Fleihr slowly approaches Myers, keeping his eyes on Raynor, who just grins and waves him on... Rik drops down and flops across Myers. ... ... ... "Uh... ref? Count?" "Count what, King?" Mak says, stifling a laugh. "You see any shoulders on that thing?" The ref is down and in position, but his hand hovers above the mat - he scratches his head, scoots around to the other side... scratches his head again... "MAN-A-TEE! MAN-A-TEE!" Enraged, Fleihr jumps on top of Matt and tries desperately to pin both fins to the mat - Myers responds by rolling over on his side, trapping his right fin underneath him! Rik pulls him back, and Myers just rolls through and stops on top of his left! Back and forth, back and forth, until finally Rik can't take it anymore! He gets back to his feet, falls into the ropes, springs back and drops a knee on the spot he suspect's Myers' face is. A clearly audible "Oof!" confirms his theory. Rik drops a second knee, then a third, then mounts the manatee again, and this time is fast enough to pin both fins to the mat! "ONE!" "TWO!" "TH-" And for the first time in the evening, someone other than the manatee gets a face pop, as Chris Raynor climbs through the ropes and dives forward, dropping an elbow directly onto the back of Rik's head! Soft manatee-suit padding cushions the front of his head, but not the back, and the Norsemen rolls away clutching the back of his head! The referee ushers Raynor back out of the ring, then turns back to see Fleirh slapping Olaf's hand! Olaf enters the ring and stalks his prey, who at this moment is desperately attempting to squirm back towards his corner. He travels about an inch and a half before Anderson grabs his tail and hauls him back across the ring to the Norsemen's corner! "Twelve-hundred pounds, huh?" "Come on Mak, they're Norsemen! They're probably channeling Thor or something!" "Wouldn't that count as interference?" Olaf points to Raynor and tells Rik to watch him, then drops down on Myers and pins the fins once more! "ONE!" Myers struggles to free himself! "TWO!" He frantically rolls back and forth! "THR-Ropes! Foot on t, er, fin on the ropes!" The referee points out and, sure enough, Mattatee has flopped the very tip of his tail onto the bottom rope! Olaf angrily grabs his fin and drags him out towards the center of the ring- -and Myers takes advantage by throwing his weight forwards and log rolling right into Olaf's legs! The mushy padding might not hurt much, but the momentum is enough to knock Olaf off his feet! Myers keeps rolling until he gets to ManaTeam's corner, then desperately stretches his fin out for help... ... Raynor remains on the apron, calmly examining his fingernails. And whistling. "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" "Now that's just cold, Raynor. He's an endangered species!" "That was true long before tonight, Mak." Olaf, nursing only his wounded ego, grabs Myers' tail and starts hauling him back! Anderson turns around to signal his partner, and Raynor takes that opportunity to lean over the top and slap Myers' fin in a blind tag! The referee calls it fair, but Olaf and Rik are busy strategizing - Olaf tags his partner in, and together heft Myers up and dump him into a neutral corner! They then retreat to the opposite side - Olaf grabs Rik's arm and whips him towards Myers! Rik leaps into the air and plows into the Manatee with a crossbody, just as Raynor finally enters and takes out Olaf with a big boot to the side of the head! Rik bounces off of Myers with little more accomplished than having a little fun, but he's suddenly taken down from behind in a schoolboy rollup! "ONE!" "TWO!" "THRE-" NO! Rik breaks free at the last second! He and Raynor scramble to their feet, and this time it's the Caveman who's quicker as he blasts Fleihr in the face with a series of forearms, driving him back into the ropes! He takes Rik by the arm and starts to whip him across the ring, but then yanks him right back in and buries a knee into his stomach! Rik drops to his knees, and Raynor takes the opportunity to run the ropes, then leap high on his return and smash Fleihr's face into the mat with a vicious Scissor Kick! Raynor quickly turns him over and makes a quick cover! "ONE!" "TWO!" "THR-" Rik breaks the pin again! Wasting no time, Raynor heaves Rik into a neutral corner-" "GET HIM OUT!" shouts the ref, as he gets between the two legal combatants. Raynor's confused for a moment, then suddenly looks back and realizes Myers, no longer the legal man(atee), is still propped up in the corner inside the ring! Raynor throws a few kicks to Rik's gut to keep him down, then heads across the ring and drags back to ManaTeam's corner, and begins struggling to force him through the ropes! As soon as his bearings return to him, Fleihr pulls himself out of the corner and stumbles over to his partner- *SLAP* -bringing Olaf back into the match! The two men lock hands, then spring across the ring, looking to catch both Raynor and Myers in a double clothesline- -but Raynor drops down at the last second, making sure to grab the top rope as he does! Rik succeeds in plowing into Myers, but the momentum carries BOTH of them over the ropes and to the outside, and Fleihr doesn't have the luxury of a massive padded suit! Olaf slams into the corner, and Raynor quickly scrambles to his feet and locks his arms around the Norsemen's waste, trying for a German suplex! Olaf desperately clings to the ropes, and eventually Raynor unlocks his arms and takes a step back- -which is all the opportunity Olaf needs! His hands still on the top ropes, he leaps up and kicks his feet backward, snaring them both around the Rayn-man's head, then tumbles forward, flinging Raynor out over the top with a Hurricanrana! If we lived in a just, fair world, Raynor would have landed on the perfectly comfortable manatee pillow that's acting as his partner - since we don't, Raynor lands a few feet to the left. "So have we just abandoned all hope of calling this match, King?" "Welcome to ten minutes ago, Mak, glad you could join us." Olaf sizes up his opponents' location and condition, then takes ahold of the top rope and springs over, gaining impressive height before driving both knees directly into Raynor's chest! The Norseman bounces off and rolls away, a little shaken but otherwise fine, then grabs Raynor's hair, yanks him up, and rolls him back into the ring, immediately going for the cover! "ONE!" "TWO!" "THR-" Raynor kicks out! Olaf gets back to his feet and throws a few boots to his foe's face for good measure, then heads out of the ring to check on his partner. Rik has just about recovered from his accident - Myers is either dead, or smart enough to play dead. In any event, he doesn't do much, so the Norsemen pay him no heed - Olaf helps Rik limp back towards their corner, then he rolls into the ring, only to see Raynor charging straight for him! Olaf ducks the attempted clothesline, spins and delivers a picture perfect dropkick that pushes Raynor back into the neutral corner! The Rayn-man bounces back and attempts a shoulderblock, but Olaf sidesteps and delivers a second dropkick, and this one puts the Caveman down! Anderson quickly runs and leaps onto the second rope, then extends his legs on the spring back and cleanly drops one over the Rayn-man's throat, before attempting another cover! "ONE!" "TWO!" "THR-RIIP!" Raynor kicks out before "EE", but the sound of some portion of Myers' Manatee suit tearing fills in the gap! That's about the last thing the Norsemen need to worry about, however - Olaf heads over to his partner, and after a bit of consultation he makes the tag! Rik begins to scale the turnbuckles of the Norsemen's corner, while Olaf drags Raynor towards the center of the ring, then heads to the opposite corner and begins to climb as well! Rik makes it up first, and seeing absolutely no movement from Raynor, takes the opportunity to ham it up with the crowd! "MAN-A-TEE! MAN-A-TEE!" And gets nothing for his troubles. Meanwhile, Olaf shouts directions from across the ring- -YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! -when suddenly a giant grey blow comes bounding up the ringsteps! Poking out from under the manatee's mass are the two gangly legs of Matt Myers - he leaps up the stairs, wraps a fin around Olaf's head and leaps off, taking the Norseman all the way from the top rope to the floor with a Bulldog! Rik steps off the top rope and rushes across the ring to check on his partner, when the semi-recovered Chris Raynor lumbers to his feet and locks his arms from behind, then literally tears Rik's grip off the top rope, spins around, and takes him down with a Full-Nelson slam! Raynor springs back to his feet, bringing Rik up with him, then launches him twice - once into the ropes, and once high into the air on his way back with a- "-biiiiiiiiig back body drop!" *groan* Raynor pitches a sharp whistle to his partner, and after Myers is satisfied that Olaf won't be moving for a while, the Manatee-Man gets back to his feet and wobbles over to the ring, only fitting under the bottom rope after his partner strains to hold it open. Raynor helps him to his feet, and then whispers something to him... Mattatee nods, then moves to their corner and slowly begins to scale the ropes! "What on Earth-" Raynor lays a few kicks into Rik's head for good measure, then drags him over towards the ManaTeam's corner. Myer's flimsy fins barely hold on to the ropes, but he doesn't need to hold on for long - one bounce, two bounce, and- "BANZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAI!" *SPLORT* The actual damage done can't be much, but the sheer girth of the suit makes the pin a foregone conclusion. "ONE!" "TWO!" "THREE!" *DING DING DING* YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! MAN-A-TEE! MAN-A-TEE! MAN-A-TEE! MAN-A-TEE! "Dance of the Manatee" ignites the audience once again, and that may be the very dance Myers is dancing right now, as Funyon proclaims "Ladies and Gentlemen, the winners of this bout... Chris Raynor, and MATT... MANATEEEEEEEEEEEEE... MYYYYYYYYEERRRRRRRRS!" We cut to the announcer's table, where Mak and King are... well, they're dumbstruck. "Mak... I'm confused... did... did Myers just..." "I... I think we're dreaming." "Are we dead?" "Maybe we're high." "THE END IS NIGH!" "Pissbreak. Back in a sec." Mattatee continues to ham it up in the ring - Raynor, on the other hand, only stays around for the ref to raise his hand, then he takes his leave. Despite his best efforts to ignore the crowd and just get to the back, the camera catches an involuntary grin as he goes. MAN-A-TEE! MAN-A-TEE! MAN-A-TEE! It's good to be back.

boom, explosion, everybody dies except silent

*knock knock knock* The door to the commissioner's door opens, and Allison Onita's head pokes through. "Mr. Flesher? Someone here to see you." "If it's Toxxic, then tell him nice try, but he can't pass off twenty-six bags of marshmellows as a business expense." "No sir, it-" "Clark? Tell him I already bought Cinderella III for Christ's sake... most unnecessary sequel ever." "No sir, it's not Clark. It-... you bought Cinderella III?" "For the love of- no, I didn't. Who is it?" "Chris Raynor." "Ah! Send him in." Alison's floating head disappears, and a few moments later considerably less attractive face of Chris Raynor appears. At least his head is attached to a body. With legs. That walk over to the commissioner's desk. Carrying the- yeah, I think you got it. "I got your note," Tom says, closing his extremely official looking folder used to conceal this month's Cigar Aficionado. "Something about wanting to bit more work? Road Agent fatigue finally getting to you?" Raynor nods, forcing a weak smile at that inexcusably bad joke. "Well, I'm not entirely certain what's available right now..." "I was... I was kind of thinking-" "I mean, no offense," Tom says, attempting (and failing) to conceal a satisfied smirk, "but I think the talent would revolt if we put you back in the Booker's office - I don't think I need to remind you how well House Rules went over." "I'm not interested in booking again." "And I am relieved to hear that, but unless you've gone back to school, majored in medicine, and now want to join the medical team, I'm not sure what kind of extra work we've got right now." "I wanted... I want to come back." "Come back?" "To active duty." Awkward silences rule. "You mean, like... wrestling?" "Yeah." Can never have enough awkward silences! Tom gets up and walks to his liquor cabinet. Believe it or not, it has nothing to do with the request, and everything to do with the fact that it's Tom, and it's liquor. "I'm... I'm trying to find a nice way to ask this, Chris... how... I mean, are... well... have you considered that maybe you've, you know... peaked?" Wait for it... "Yes, a-" "A long time ago?" Waaaaait for it... "And what have I got to show for it, Tom? Wild and Dangerous have booted me out of the Tag Team record books... my Intercontinental and US Title reigns were jokes... no one even remembers the Minor League anymore... and when I heard that the SWF might be folding-" Almost there... "That's a rumor, Chris. Nothing more." "I just... I..." "Look, I understand if you-" "I don't want to be remembered as Chris Raynor - the guy who lost to Edwin." And there it is. "I've... there's got to be something I can do. Some record I can break, some title I can win, some... something." "And have you considered the possibility that your return could only get you remembered as the washed up ex-star who tried to make another glory run and got laughed out of the building in the process?" If looks could kill, Raynor's probably wouldn't, but it would at least be a nasty kick to one of Tom's shins. "Hey," Tom quickly raises his hands and backs off, "I'm not in a position to say people should stay retired, considering my recent forays, but I've got a business to run here. People might tune in to Storm to laugh at Chris Raynor attempting to rehash his glory days, but that's not something they'll buy tickets for, or order Pay Per Views for. If I'm going to approve this, I need to know you'll be pulling your weight." "You have my word-" Tom's explosive laugh is more gut reaction to that phrase than anything else, but it still takes a few seconds to regain his composure. Raynor is not amused. "Look... despite your name being kicked from the list, you're still considered to be one our of Tag Team elites. So I don't want to see Chris Perfectly Run of the Mill Singles Competitor Raynor. If I'm going to sign off on this, you've got make something happen in the Tag division. Lord knows we need it." "... it might take me a little time to find a partner... but OK. Deal." "Alright then." "... although, if it's alright, I'd like a chance to shake off the rust." "Naturally." Tom returns to his desk and keys his intercom. "Allison, what's Matt Myers doing right now?" "Last I heard, petitioning Rik Fleihr to become the Fifth Norseman." "Of course. Listen, when you've got a minute, send whatever's left of him to the lockerroom to gear up."

The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation Presents... SWF 13th HOUR 2007! From the sold-out Estadio Felix Sanchez in Santo Domingo in the Dominican Republic! Taped Saturday, June 2, at 10 PM Eastern time; airing Sunday, June 3; send everything to Ace309 THE MAIN EVENT - TRIPLE THREAT - WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix © vs. Johnny Dangerous vs. Alan Clark ---> Three athletes step into the ring. Two have tasted gold before; one holds the second-tier title in the SWF, but gets his chance at gold. Who will walk out of the ring with the gold? Rules: Two wrestlers in the ring at once - wrestlers must tag in and out until one wrestler is eliminated, at which point the remaining two wrestlers will continue under standard rules. The last man standing will be the World Heavyweight Champion, regardless of any elimination which occurs via countout or disqualification. SUB-MAIN EVENT - BRITISH RULES MATCH Toxxic vs. "The Beast" Gabriel Drake ---> To sum up the history between Toxxic and Drake in less than a paragraph would be to do them both a disservice. Suffice to say this match is going to be the culmination of years of animosity between two of the SWF's top athletes, and I wouldn't want to be the referee who tries to enforce the special British rules. Rules: Two falls to a winner by pinfall or submission. Failing to answer a ten-count automatically loses you the match. Disqualifications are in effect. SWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP Wildchild © vs. The Fabulous Jakey ---> Who's this Jakey freak, and why is he on my radar? He sure looks like a wuss. He acts like a wuss. He is, however, most certainly not a wuss. He's shown his mettle over the past month and proven to be a thorn in the side of Wildchild. As Wild & Dangerous look to pull off a one-two punch in World Championship matches, can that little whiner who's caught the eye of the community and revived Revolution Zero play the spoiler? Rules: Standard, with cruiserweight addenda - 20 seconds instead of 10 on the outside, and throwing your opponent over the top rope is grounds for disqualification. INTERNATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP #1 CONTENDERS MATCH "The Dean of Wrestling" Jay Hawke vs. Zyon ---> Though Hawke hasn't seemed able to buy a win since his return, Zyon has been slumping like someone who's in a very deep slump. Still, Commissioner Flesher decided that stealing a World Title shot from Zyon wasn't quite fair, and so he's giving him a chance to redeem himself against the Dean himself. The winner will have first crack at Alan Clark in the next cycle... assuming Alan doesn't win the World Championship and vacate the title, of course. Rules: Standard singles match. BERMUDA TRIANGLE MATCH - HARDCORE TITLE Jimmy the Doom vs. Austin Sly vs. Manson ---> Boy, the fans are going to be mad about this one. What do you mean, we're nowhere near Bermuda? Rules: What makes this a Bermuda Triangle match? A bad pun, mostly. First pin or submission wins. No DQs or countouts. \ SPECIAL ATTRACTION Kibagami vs. Manson ---> Somehow, I don't think this will affect Manson's match, even though it's up next. Rules: Standard. Use the tag ropes to tie your shoes.

The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation Presents... SWF 13th HOUR 2007! From the sold-out Estadio Felix Sanchez in Santo Domingo in the Dominican Republic! Taped Saturday, June 2, at 10 PM Eastern time; airing Sunday, June 3; send everything to Ace309 THE MAIN EVENT - TRIPLE THREAT - WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix © vs. Johnny Dangerous vs. Alan Clark ---> Three athletes step into the ring. Two have tasted gold before; one holds the second-tier title in the SWF, but gets his chance at gold. Who will walk out of the ring with the gold? Rules: Two wrestlers in the ring at once - wrestlers must tag in and out until one wrestler is eliminated, at which point the remaining two wrestlers will continue under standard rules. The last man standing will be the World Heavyweight Champion, regardless of any elimination which occurs via countout or disqualification. Send to: Ace309 SUB-MAIN EVENT - BRITISH RULES MATCH Toxxic vs. "The Beast" Gabriel Drake ---> To sum up the history between Toxxic and Drake in less than a paragraph would be to do them both a disservice. Suffice to say this match is going to be the culmination of years of animosity between two of the SWF's top athletes, and I wouldn't want to be the referee who tries to enforce the special British rules. Rules: Two falls to a winner by pinfall or submission. Failing to answer a ten-count automatically loses you the match. Disqualifications are in effect. Send to: chirs3 SWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP Wildchild © vs. The Fabulous Jakey ---> Who's this Jakey freak, and why is he on my radar? He sure looks like a wuss. He acts like a wuss. He is, however, most certainly not a wuss. He's shown his mettle over the past month and proven to be a thorn in the side of Wildchild. As Wild & Dangerous look to pull off a one-two punch in World Championship matches, can that little whiner who's caught the eye of the community and revived Revolution Zero play the spoiler? Rules: Standard, with cruiserweight addenda - 20 seconds instead of 10 on the outside, and throwing your opponent over the top rope is grounds for disqualification. Send to: Ace309 INTERNATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP #1 CONTENDERS MATCH "The Dean of Wrestling" Jay Hawke vs. Zyon ---> Though Hawke hasn't seemed able to buy a win since his return, Zyon has been slumping like someone who's in a very deep slump. Still, Commissioner Flesher decided that stealing a World Title shot from Zyon wasn't quite fair, and so he's giving him a chance to redeem himself against the Dean himself. The winner will have first crack at Alan Clark in the next cycle... assuming Alan doesn't win the World Championship and vacate the title, of course. Rules: Standard singles match. Send to: chirs3 BERMUDA TRIANGLE MATCH - HARDCORE TITLE Jimmy the Doom vs. Austin Sly vs. Manson ---> Boy, the fans are going to be mad about this one. What do you mean, we're nowhere near Bermuda? Rules: What makes this a Bermuda Triangle match? A bad pun, mostly. First pin or submission wins. No DQs or countouts. Send to: Muzz SPECIAL ATTRACTION Kibagami vs. Manson ---> Somehow, I don't think this will affect Manson's match, even though it's up next. Rules: Standard. Use the tag ropes to tie your shoes. Send to: Ace309

Matches are due Saturday night at 10 PM.

Raynor's MIA for the time being, but he's set to get his new laptop from Dell *checks date* tomorrow, I think. He said he'd be available to mark this show, but if not I'll raid his inbox and bug someone to split the workload with me. Also, I just made some beer today.

Everyone PM me your PPV plans, preferably in detail. If you don't let me know, then I'll figure something out, but I'd rather not.

Straight world title it is. Card remains as it is.

I had talked to Clark and Johnny about that, and for a variety of reasons I decided to go with my gut that building to the International unification match for the next PPV was probably a better decision. I didn't realize it was already set. If you guys want to unify, go ahead and unify and we'll make Hawke/Zyon a World contendership match.

You're all lazy or terrible.

I only helped out with the House of Marvelous tonight, so I'll say I think it turned out fairly well. Johnny wrote it pretty cleanly and he managed to capture the Flesher character fairly well, in my estimation. The main event was a very difficult decision. The Hawke/Clark team put together a match that had more physical psychology to it. Of course, working-a-limb-type psychology isn't the end-all, be-all of in-ring psychology, and as difficult as it is to deny a match that was as coherent as Hawke/Clark submitted, I think they wrote a match that didn't take into account everything that was going on with this card. There was very little use of the crowd, which would have been a rich vein to tap when filling in some of the dead space in the match. The commentary was a little bit painful at times, and though I know that the interruptions of the commentary were meant to give off an air of unpredictability, they weren't very well executed. Really, they just came across as irritating. The writing was spotty in places, and there were a few clear divides that could have used a better edit to avoid a jarring switch of voices where it seems clear that one writer stopped and another picked up. All in all, it just didn't seem like this match had the attention paid to it that it was due. All of that taken together make it difficult to give this match the win. Wild and Dangerous, meanwhile, submitted a match that lacked the strict working-a-limb psychology that Hawke and Clark put forth, but made up for it in the broader sense of the term. They wrote to their standard, which for most of us is hard to beat on our best day, and they wrote the match very well. I can't complain about a thing they did - they captured Wildchild as the central character, because really, the match had to be about him, one way or the other. They told a story in the ring that was coherent and clear and that made sense in the broader context of the match. It's fair to object that making a match about Wildchild is difficult as his opponent, but I think it just takes a bit more creativity. With Hawke's ability to direct a match in the ring and Clark's flair for drama, I expected more than I got. The faces don't have to win for the match to be dramatic and exciting - I'd have loved to have my heart broken by seeing Wildchild lose his titles in his triumphant homecoming, and it wouldn't have taken much more effort than the match that was turned in.

FADE IN “It’s just about time for the main event, ladies and gentlemen!” says an excited Mak Francis. “And the atmosphere here in Nassau has been electric all evening… indeed, all week! And it’s about to get even more electric, as Wild and Dangerous prepare to defend the Tag Team Titles against Alan Clark and Jay Hawke! King, fans here in the Bahamas have been anticipating this all week; do you think there’s any way that this match lives up to expectations?” “Well, if I were Johnny Dangerous, I’d worry less about the match living up to expectations, and more about the mental state of his partner,” replies the Suicide King. “As you and I can both testify, Francis, there’s nothing that can prepare a wrestler for the first time he performs in front of his home crowd; it’s almost like your first time at Genesis! You get those butterflies in your stomach, and sometimes you lose your head.” “No doubt about that,” agrees Mak. “The first time I wrestled in Philly, I threw up twice before my match! And then, I started making all kinds of rookie mistakes in the ring. But I actually think that’s where Johnny Dangerous will be invaluable here tonight: if Wildchild looks like he’s out of control, I expect Johnny to come in and take over. Having said that, they’re going to be in the ring against two guys that would love nothing better than to send this Bahaman crowd home unhappy!” “Positively!” affirms King. “In fact, both of these guys have come away with the loser’s end of the money the last time they faced Wildchild; they’d love to get that win back tonight!” “Will Wild and Dangerous be able to retain here tonight?” asks Mak. “We’ll know here in a few moments, as we send it up to Funyon in the ring!” DING! DING! DING! “Ladies and Gentlemen,” booms Funyon. “This… is the MAIN EVENT!” YEAAAAAAAAAAH! With that, Pink Floyd’s “Learning to Fly” begins to play, as Jay Hawke and Alan Clark make their way out to the ring… BOOOOOOOOOO! The challengers ignore the boos of the fans as they make their way down towards the ring; Clark, in fact, tries to genuflect to the fans surrounding the barricade, but they respond with loud jeering, some even throwing trash at the two men! “This is a really raucous crowd, King!” exclaims Mak, as security intervenes to try and keep the fans from getting out of hand. “Hawke and Clark may have to be escorted the rest of the way to the ring!” “Well, it’s very unusual to see a crowd anywhere that’s one hundred percent for one person,” remarks King. “Even when I was wrestling in front of my home fans, there were still a fair number of people there that were rooting against me… But here, it’s like the entire country is behind the Wildchild! I can’t even remember the last time I’ve seen anything like this in professional wrestling!” Jay and Alan finally make their way to the ring; Jay removes his robe and hands it over the top rope to the attendant at ringside, as Clark removes his International Championship and hands it to referee Ronald “Red” Herrington. He then removes his custodial jumpsuit as “Learning to Fly” fades out. Only a few seconds of silence pass before the crowd begins cheering in unison: LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! “This place is going crazy in anticipation of the Wildchild!” shouts Mak. “Every fan in this arena is on their feet!” Suddenly, the crowd noise ascends to a deafening roar as the opening strains of “Starsky and Hutch” pass through that speakers… YEAAAAAAAAAAH! Johnny Dangerous makes his way out from behind the backstage area first, waving his hands excitedly to get the fans even more riled up! The Caribbean crowd stirs itself into a frenzy as the Barracuda encourages them to cheer ever louder for the Wildchild: LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! Suddenly, the Bahama Bomber steps out onto the stage, the National Flag of the Bahamas draped over his shoulders! YEAAAAAAAAAAH! “I’m not even going to try to talk over this!” shouts King, as an emotional Wildchild looks out into a sea of his countrymen. It’s like nothing he’s ever experienced before, like nothing he ever thought he’d get to experience… LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! The Bahaman native is greeted by an endless cavalcade of hands trying to reach out to him or pat him on the back as he and Johnny make their way towards the ring! Upon arriving at the ringside area, WC walks around to where both Thomas Robinson and Tonique Williams-Darling are seated; the Caribbean Cruiser thanks them both for coming, and turns to face the cameramen that are lined up behind him for a photo opportunity. “I’ve never seen anything like this in professional wrestling, King!” screams Mak, trying desperately to heard over the roar of the crowd. “It’s practically like a rock concert in here!” WC shrugs the flag from his shoulders and hands it to the timekeeper before he somersaults into the ring, along with his teammate; they each make their way to a corner and climb up the turnbuckles to pose for the fans! They finally climb back down to the canvas as their music fades out, and the timekeeper’s bell calls their attention back to the matter at hand: DING! DING! DING! “The following contest,” says Funyon, “scheduled for one fall, is for the SWF World Tag Team Championship!” YEAAAAAAAAAAH! “Introducing first,” continues Funyon, “to my left, are the challengers!” BOOOOOOOOOO! “At a total combined weight of four hundred forty pounds, first, from Cleveland, Ohio, the Dean of Professional Wrestling, Jay HAWKE! His tag team partner, allegedly hailing from Walt Disney World, Alan CLARK!” Clark barks at Funyon, taking exception to the use of the word ‘allegedly.’ LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! “Their opponents,” continues Funyon, “are the SWF World Tag Team Champions… WILD! AAAAAND DAAAANGEROUS!” YEAAAAAAAAAAH! “At a total combined weight of four hundred thirty-nine pounds, first, from Las Vegas, Nevada, Johnny Dangerous!” Johnny raises his hand to salute the crowd, but the fans are already anticipating the announcement of their countryman: LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! “Listen to this introduction!” shouts Mak. “His tag team partner…” YEAAAAAAAAAAH! “… From Morgan’s Bluff, in Andros…” YEAAAAAAAAAAH! “… Commonwealth of the Bahamas…” YEAAAAAAAAAAH! “He is the Bahamas’ own… the Wildchild, Dominic LEEEEE-CROIX!” LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! “This is unbelievable!” exclaims Mak, as WC and Johnny hand their title belts over to Red Herrington, who displays them for the fans before heading over towards the edge of the ring to hand them to Funyon as he departs the ring. Johnny guides Wildchild, who is positively trembling with nervous energy, over towards the edge of the ring to start the match on the apron. “It looks like Johnny Dangerous is going to start the match for his team tonight,” notes Mak. “That’s very out of the ordinary for the champions!” “Well, it’s probably for the best,” adds King. “Dangerous starting the match will give Wildchild some time to settle his emotions, and avoid putting him in a situation where he might make a mistake!” Herrington signals to the timekeeper to ring the bell, signifying the start of the match: DING! DING! DING! “Bell’s gone,” shouts Mak, “and we’re underway!” Johnny locks up with Alan Clark in the center of the ring, and muscles him back into a neutral corner; Herrington rushes over to pull the two men apart… WHACK! … And Clark takes advantage of the distraction to catch Johnny with a sucker punch to the jaw! Clark then slams Johnny headfirst into the top turnbuckle! Alan grabs Johnny by the sides of his head and rakes the Barracuda’s face across the top rope as he makes his way over to his corner, to tag in Jay Hawke. Clark holds Johnny’s arms from behind as the Dean steps in and delivers a boot to Johnny’s midsection. Hawke grabs Johnny by the wrist and whips him across the ring, only for the Barracuda to reverse it; Johnny lowers his head as Jay bounces off the ropes, but the Dean makes his pay for putting his head down, hammering him in the back of the head with a clubbing forearm shot! “So far, so good, for the challengers,” notes Mak. “It looks like Wildchild may not have been the only member of this team that has come out a little too emotional!” Jay runs back to the ropes, but this time the Barracuda snatches him up out of the air as he rebounds and spins around sharply on his heel, powering Hawke into the canvas with a ferocious powerslam! Johnny holds him down for a cover: ONE! TWO! No! Jay kicks out at two! Johnny pulls the Dean to his feet and traps him in a standing arm wringer, before pulling him over to the Champion’s corner: LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! “Here we go!” shouts Mak. “This crowd is about to lose it!” Johnny reaches over to his corner to tag in the Wildchild, prompting an eruption of cheers from the crowd: YEAAAAAAAAAAH! As soon as he tags his partner in, Johnny whips Hawke across the ring; the Barracuda bellies out against the canvas as Jay bounces off the ropes… WHAM! … And runs full-speed into a standing dropkick from the Bahama Bomber! YEAAAAAAAAAAH! “Stepover into a dropkick!” shouts Mak. “That’s vintage Wild and Dangerous offense!” Wildchild waits for Hawke to get back to his feet, before scooping him up off the canvas and planting him back down with a scoop slam! He immediately leaps off the canvas and extends his right leg to crash down into Hawke with a legdrop, and the rolls away from Hawke and onto his stomach, fluidly getting back to his feet as he hops back off the canvas, this time stretching out his left leg to hit a second straight legdrop! This time, Wildchild rolls atop Hawke and applies a lateral press, as Herrington dives into position to count: ONE! TWO! Hawke kicks out at two! WC pulls Jay to his feet, but the Dean stuns him with a rake of the eyes; Hawke grabs Wildchild by the wrist and whips him across the ring, hooking him underneath the arm to take him over with a hiptoss, but the Caribbean Cruiser effortlessly flows through the maneuver and lands on his feet, before suddenly taking the Dean by surprise with a snapping armdrag takeover! YEAAAAAAAAAAH! Jay quickly bounces to his feet, only to be taken over by a second quick armdrag! He scrambles to his feet, and is this time caught in a hiptoss! Clark rushes into the ring to come to his partner’s aid, only to find himself taken over by a hiptoss as well! Wildchild waits for Jay to stand up and rushes over to him, leaping into the air to land on the Dean’s shoulders, and locking his ankles behind Jay’s head as he arches backwards to take him over in a rana! The super-quick Bahaman still manages to beat Clark to his feet and leaps into the air, locking his hands behind Alan’s head and planting his feet into the International Champion’s midsection as he arches backwards to take his opponent over with a monkey flip! YEAAAAAAAAAAH! WC runs across the ring and leaps explosively off the canvas, whipping his leg sharply through the air to smash Clark across the throat with a leg lariat that sends him tumbling over the top rope and out to the floor! “Wildchild has taken control!” exclaims Mak. “He’s operating on another level right now! WC pulls Hawke to his feet and pulls him over to his corner, where he tags Johnny back in. Wildchild grabs Jay by the wrist and whips him towards the edge of the ring; Johnny appears beside him as the Dean bounces off the ropes, and they each loop an arm underneath those of the challenger, snatching him up off of the ground… WHAM! … And slamming him into the canvas with a double-hiptoss! “Nice double-hiptoss by the champions,” says Mak, as Wild and Dangerous turn ninety degrees to face the other edge of the ring. Johnny grabs Wildchild by the wrist and whips him towards the ropes, but the Bahama Bomber quickly spins around on his heel and sends his partner in instead. “What do you suppose is going on here,” asks Mak, as Johnny bounds off the ropes. Wildchild bends down to shoot the single-leg as his partner draws near and lifts him up off of the canvas, sending him sailing through the air as he falls backwards… SPLASH! … And crashing into Jay with a flapjack-body splash! “Tremendous maneuver by Wild and Dangerous,” screams Mak. “And that’s one of the things that makes them so effective as a tag team! They’re not afraid to put their own bodies in jeopardy to inflict damage on their opponents!” Johnny pulls Hawke over to a neutral corner and then straddles the middle ropes to begin delivering a ten-count punch: ONE! TWO! Clark gets back up on the apron and feigns entering the ring, prompting WC to try and cut him off at the pass… THREE! Herrington only sees Wildchild, however, and rushes over to chase him out of the ring… FOUR! … Leaving Clark free to sneak into the ring behind the Barracuda and wrap his arms around his waist, popping his hips as he jerks Johnny off the mat and backwards… BANG! … Dropping him on his head with a devastating German suplex! “Beautiful German by Alan!” admires King, as Alan rolls over onto his stomach. “Now that’s what wrestlers are supposed to do, Mak!” “But does Alan still have enough left to help his team win?” wonders Mak. “He took a pretty bad spill out to the floor!” Alan rolls back out to the apron as Jay stumbles out of the corner; he pulls Johnny to his feet, and uses a series of rapid-fire punches to force him back to the edge of the ring. The challenger grabs Johnny by the wrist and whips him across the ring; Johnny rebounds, and the Dean steps in looking to land a clothesline… but Johnny ducks down at the last second and blows past, heading to the ropes directly behind Jay! He leaps into the ropes… THUD! … Just as Alan Clark reaches up and pulls the top rope down, causing Johnny to go tumbling out of the ring and slam face first into thinly padded concrete floor! “Excellent teamwork on the part of Clark and Hawke,” shouts King. “Johnny Dangerous lost track of Alan Clark, and they used that to their advantage. Wildchild instinctively drops down from the ring apron with the purpose of checking on his partner as well as preventing any double teams that could possible transpire. Herrington is quick to order the Bahaman native back to his corner though; he doesn’t need this emotionally charged match to get completely out of control with a ringside brawl. However, turning his back to the challengers isn’t exactly a good thing as they take the opportunity to once again gang up on the Barracuda. Alan slaps a full nelson on Dangerous and drags him to his feet, holding him in place for Jay Hawke to repeatedly ram his fist into Johnny’s gut. Finally, Clark tosses the Barracuda down and returns to the apron, just as Herrington turns his attention back this way. “Excellent work, ref,” mutters Francis. Hawke pulls Johnny to his feet. As the Barracuda is still visibly dazed he doesn’t offer much resistance, which will suit the Dean just fine. He shoves Dangerous’ back against the ring, arches his arm back… *SMACK!* BOOOOOOOOOO! *SMACK!* BOOOOOOOOOO! *SMACK!* BOOOOOOOOOO! *SMACK!* BOOOOOOOOOO! …and unloads with a series of eye-watering knife edged chops, lighting up Dangerous’ chest! “That was… rather unusual,” the Gambling Man notes. “This crowd responded to the chops with boos – they really have absolutely zero love for the Challengers down here.” “Did you expect any different!? This crowd is the most one sided I have ever seen!” Dangerous is dropped to his knees. The chops to his ribs have left a stinging sensation like no other, forcing his hand to instinctively clutch onto his chest in pain as his other arm is left draped over the edge of the ring. Not to mention the fact that the room has yet to stop spinning following his skull smacking into the thinly-padded concrete floor. It doesn’t take long for anyone watching—worldwide or ringside—that the Barracuda is in serious trouble. “Get him back in the ring!” Herrington leans over the ropes and hollers out at Jay Hawke, while pointing at Johnny and then at the ring mat. Hawke dismisses the referee with the wave of his hand, but grabs Dangerous and rolls him into the ring then rolls in behind. “He’s not much for having stupid officials tell him what to do, but he knows he can’t win the match on the outside,” says King. Hawke crawls over Johnny, pinning his shoulders to the mat as Herrington counts for: ONE! TWO! TH-NO! Dangerous kicks out, and rolls onto his side to end the count. Hawke isn’t so sure that he can’t get this match won now, though, so he rolls Dangerous pack on to his back and applies a lateral press for a second straight pin. ONE! TWO! TH-NO! Again Dangerous kicks out and rolls onto his side to avoid having both shoulders down. “Johnny might be in a world of pain but he still has the sense to known how to keep himself out of a losing situation,” says Francis. “However, he desperately needs to make a tag and I can see Wildchild itching for that chance.” “He won’t have that opportunity at this rate,” Suicide King finishes as Hawke stands to his feet, pulling the seemingly lifeless secret agent up with him. He heads towards his corner to make a tag for himself with the Barracuda in tow. “Tags made and now Alan Clark comes in to take the reigns from Jay Hawke,” Mak notes. “These two really have this match in control.” At least, that’s how it appears. When Alan steps into the ring he quickly sends a knee into Dangerous gut to double him back over as Jay Hawke steps back out without staying in for any extra double teams – this match is well in hand. However, when Hawke is out of the ring is when Dangerous suddenly starts to fight back! He quickly jams an elbow into Clark’s side, stunning him for the moment, which gives the Barracuda enough time to get back to his feet, grab Clark by the arm, and send him across the ring, far from his corner, with an Irish whip! Dangerous takes two lanky steps forward in anticipation of Clark’s return, but he hasn’t regained enough of his senses to out maneuver Alan just yet and is knocked down with a lariat! BOOOOOOOOOO! LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! The crowd chants for Wildchild start to grow; the fans desperately want to see their hometown hero get in the ring and kick some ass! It’s not hard for the challengers to take note of this either, and being the kind of man that Alan Clark has become he decides to have a little fun with it. After all, there isn’t much of a threat posed by Wildchild when he can’t even get involved in the mix. He just stands in the corner, his eyes dark as he glares at Clark, which the Disney Sponsored challenger to the tag titles finds a little amusing. He points at Wildchild as if he were asking the crowd if that’s who they want to see in this match and they respond with a deafening, thunderous cheer… and then Clark waves them off as he returns his attention to the Barracuda. BOOOOOOOOOO! LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! Dangerous is halfway up by this point. He kneels by the ropes, trying to pull himself up as Alan stalks towards him. Dangerous tries to move quickly, hoping to escape Clark for now and make the tag to his partner, but Clark catches him before he can get away. “He should have ran for the tag while he had the chance!” King hollers, as now it seems like that chance will never come again. Alan wraps his arms around Dangerous from behind and then starts to lift for a German suplex, but Johnny sandbags his weight to keep Clark from executing the suplex! “Wise move by Dangerous,” says Mak. “He knows he can’t take another hit like that and he did the only thing he could in this situation to avoid it.” “I wouldn’t say it’s the only thing he can do to avoid it,” Suicide King adds in, and not one second later it seems like Johnny can hear the Gambling Man as he suddenly swings his elbow back three times, jamming Clark in the face! Finally, a fourth shot jars him loose from Clark’s grip, allowing Dangerous to spin out and kick his foot into Alan’s gut! All of Alan’s wind is knocked from his pipes; making it rather hard for him to do anything more than clench his abdomen in pain. Johnny then grabs Alan and scoops him off the mat with a fireman’s carry, getting a rise out of the fans before he somersaults forward and spikes Clark back-first into the mat with a Spinal Explosion! “Dangerous hits the Spinal Explosion,” Francis echoes. “He’s got the chance to make good on that with a tag to his partner; he better not pass that opportunity up!” Johnny crawls up to his knees and starts to head for his corner. He’s still somewhat dazed and the Spinal Explosion took quite a bit out of him, so it’s not like anyone expected him to simply waltz over for a quick and easy tag. Unfortunately, his lack of speed on making the tag gives Clark enough time to try and make it to his corner as well, putting both men at an almost even chance of making it to their corner first. “COME ON, JOHNNY!” WC shouts as he pounds the turnbuckle padding. The crowd gets even more fired up (if you can believe that they could possibly have that much more to even give in the first place) as Dangerous heads for WC. These people desperately want to see their man in this ring. LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! Johnny reaches his corner at the same time as Alan reaches his, and the tags are made! YEAAAAAAAAAAH! “HERE HE COMES!” Francis shouts in excitement as the Bahaman native comes into the ring a house a fire! As Alan stands up and turns around only to get hit with a shotgun-like blast from Wildchild’s diving shoulder tackle! OOOOOOOOOOH! WC pops back up to his feet, seeing that Hawke has made his way into the ring and he charges towards him! Jay swings out his arm, looking for a mighty lariat, but WC ducks down and blazes past him. WC hits the ropes that are directly behind Hawke and springs off of them, coming back towards Jay from behind. Before Hawke can even register that WC dodged him he finds himself and the losing end of a bulldog, and he goes face-first into the canvas with a mighty thud! *WHAM!* YEAAAAAAAAAAH! Again, the Bahama Bomber is on his feet like a spring chicken, just as Alan dazedly stands to his while clutching his chest. WC rushes in and begins peppering Clark’s face with a series of right hands! BAP! BAP! BAP! BAP! Finally, with Alan reeling, Wildchild grabs Clark by his arm to whip him across the ring. However, Clark digs his feet into the mat to try and stop this Irish whip attempt until Johnny Dangerous steps in to grab Clark’s other arm, and then Wild and Dangerous send Alan across the ring! He hits the hopes and rebounds… WHACK! …running directly into two super kicks executed in unison by the Tag Team Champions! “Super Chicklet Buster!” shouts Francis, as Clark is sent backwards, into the ropes, before tumbling right over the top rope and out of the ring! “He might be down for good now!” The crowd roars in delight at seeing this abomination to Disney ejected from the ring so harshly. With Clark seemingly dealt with the Tag Champs turn their attention back towards Hawke. He’s up on his feet, though hunched over and grabbing his face like he was fighting off a serious migraine (which he very well may). Together the Champs grab Hawke in a front facelock before hauling him off the mat in a vertical suplex… WHAM! …and powerfully slamming him, back-first against the canvas! Hawke is left sprawled out on the mat, but on the outside of the ring Alan Clark is pulling himself up, starting to gather his bearings. Dangerous sees him out of the corner of his eye and then quickly takes off and dives out of the ring, between the ropes, and tackles Clark with a diving shoulderblock! “Hot damn!” exclaims Mak, “now that’s how you take someone out of action!” Dangerous and Clark are both out on the floor, grimacing in pain. It doesn’t appear like they’ll have much more to offer to this match, “-which was Dangerous intention,” Francis continues. “This is Wildchild’s return home. This is his match to win!” WC makes way for the corner post and climbs up. Once he reaches the top he turns toward the crowd and hollers out at the with his signature birdcall, signaling to his crowd for the Bird Dropping. “CAW-CAW!” He hollers, to which the crowd responds in kind, and responds much louder than any crowd ever has to the bird call. Wildchild then turns and leaps off, twisting in midair as thousands of flash bulbs pop from all corners of the arena. WHAM! YEAAAAAAAAAAH! And then the Bahama Bomber lands the Bird Dropping, making a direct hit on Jay Hawke with it! This match is over. He knows it. The crowd knows it. Hell, when Jay Hawke thinks back on this day he might even remember it. All that’s left is for referee Ronald Herrington to make the call. He drops and counts with every single member of the crowd counting along for: ONE! TWO! THREE! DING! DING! DING! YEAAAAAAAAAAH! Not one single member of this audience is left sitting. All of them leap out of their seats in joy as the bell rings out to signal the end of this match, sounding off with such a loud, thunderous cheer that Wild and Dangerous’ theme can barely be heard. “The winners of this match,” booms Funyon, “and STILL THE SWF WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS…WILD! AAAAAND DANGEROUS!!” “Once more Wild and Dangerous are successful in their title defense!” Francis notes. “However, we’ll have to see how successful Wildchild can be when he defends his Cruiserweight Championship against the Fabulous Jakey at 13th Hour.” “He hasn’t a chance! He’s going up against an elite member of Revolution Zero,” the Suicide King chimes in, but right now no ones paying attention to his pessimistic approach. Herrington raises Wildchild’s arm up in victory after handing both the tag belts back to him. Even after Herrington releases the arm he keeps it risen. Wildchild had been all over the world to win matches, defend titles and even win titles. However, before now he never had the opportunity to compete in front of his hometown crowd, and to say this is one of the happiest days he’s ever had in wrestling would only be the tip of the iceberg. He returns to the timekeeper’s table to retrieve his flag and then gets back on the apron, holding it over his head as the fans cheer! YEAAAAAAAAAAH! Johnny steps out to the floor, leaving the spotlight to his partner as “Starsky and Hutch” fades out; WC leans over to Funyon and asks for the microphone. LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! LE-CROIX! “Wildchild asking for the microphone?” asks a bewildered Mak. “What do you suppose could be going on here?” WC raises the microphone to his lips… … And begins to sing? “Lift up your head to de rising sun, Bahamaland!” Immediately, the fans begin singing along with him: “MARCH ON TO GLORY, YOUR BRIGHT BANNERS WAVING HIGH, SEE HOW THE WORLD MARKS THE BANNER OF YOUR BEARING; PLEDGE TO EXCEL THRO’ LOVE AND UNITY…” YEAAAAAAAAAAH! WC suddenly leaps up onto the top turnbuckle and raises the flag back above his head to salute his countrymen… YEAAAAAAAAAAH! Aquamarine and gold streamers are tossed into the ring, as “Starsky and Hutch” begins to play once more; WC clutches the flag to his chest and turns his teary-eyed countenance towards the sky, hopeful that his family’s approval is shining back down on him… As we: FADE OUT

Why, who is that in the ring? It's SWF World Champion Landon Maddix, ready for a match! Wowee! "Well, apparantly Landon Maddix has got what he wanted." Mak Francis begins. "Tonight, one on one he gets to take on Zyon, although it won't be happening when we expected it. Which is such a confusing situation, nobody seems to know what the hell's going on and what's motivated all these alterations by one Mr. Flesher." "That's for another night Mak. Let's concentrate on tonight." "Yes, good point. Landon needs to concentrate on tonight and on a potential future World Champion in Zyon..." "Oh crap that's right, he's wrestling Zyon. You know what, let's concentrate on 13th Hour again. Anything to get my mind off of this match." "I'M BORN" "I'M ALIVE" "I BREATHE" "YYEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" The Bahamians now go wild for the distinctive opening of Incubus' "Vitamin", which of course heralds the arrival of the challenger elect. "And, introducing his opponent! From Elkhart, Indiana and weighing in at a flat, two hundred pounds. The two-time, current SWF Cruiserweight Champion of the WORLD! He is "THE UNIQUE YOUTH"... ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ - YYYYYYYYYOOOOOOOOOOOONNN!!!!" "YYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" Pausing to soak up the warm reaction, Zyon flicks the hair from his eyes and stares down into the ring. Landon beckons him on, so naturally, Zyon breaks forward into a sprint and soars to the apron. To little surprise, it's at that point that Landon retreats into a neutral corner, letting Zyon do his thing as he enters the ring and climbs the ropes to salute his fans. Up goes the X, followed up with an arms aloft pose that would exude arrogance from anyone less adored than Zyon. Megan leaves the ring, leaving Landon to go through his warm-ups. "Zyon and Landon Maddix. This is like all my worst nightmares coming true." groans King, unenthused at the prospect of his two least favourites wrestlers locking horns. Or, exchanging spots. "Bias aside, this should be a great match between two great athletes, which was the sole reason for it being arranged for 13th Hour. It's a shame that apparantly isn't enough for some people." Referee Hardcastle removes the World Championship, unimportant for tonight at least, from the ring and checks that both men are ready, before ringing the bell and wasting little time in getting this match underway. *DINGDINGDING!* Nimble as ever, Zyon shuffles into the middle of the ring, staying on his toes as Landon slowly approaches him. Landon shows little of his usual smug confidence as he meets Zyon in the centre of the ring and goes face to face with the young cruiserweight, talking some trash that's just out of the camera's audio range. Whatever was said obviously strikes a nerve though as Zyon begins to talk back, the two exchanging barbs. Eventually, Zyon gets a good'un in and Landon smirks to himself, accepting defeat...before suddenly stunning Zyon with a boot to the gut. "HAHA! BRAINS, BABY!" shouts Landon, tapping a finger to his temple... ...and completely forgetting about Zyon, who pops back to life with a Snap front dropkick to the chest, nipping up and flicking the hair out of his eyes. "Zyon, quicker than a hiccup!" As Landon begins to come back up Zyon then goes back to his state of cat like readiness, light on the toes as he backflips and catches Maddix under the jaw with a Flash Kick! Zyon acrobatically lands on all fours, while Landon uses his momentum to guide himself to ringside, throwing up his hands and saying to hell with that. This has finally brought Megan's attention to this match and she scuttles over to check on Landon, while Zyon is held back from following by Hardcastle. "ZY - ON!" "ZY - ON!" "ZY - ON!" "ZY - ON!" The crowd's support sparks something in Zyon though and the Cruiserweight Champion flies in the face of Hardcastle's order, rolling out on the opposite side of the ring and jogging around to where Megan and Maddix are regrouping. Megan sees Zyon first and wisely scuttles back off, abandoning Landon who gets clubbed with a forearm. Sprawling forward, Maddix falls, but pulls himself back up quickly as he tries to run from The Unique Youth. Only problem being, Zyon's a speedy mutha, catching up to Maddix and clubbing him again. This isn't Zyon's style so he then decides to throw Maddix back into the ring on the third catch, climbing to the apron and encouraging The Next Generation up. The fans see it coming. Landon doesn't. However, Megan does and blocks the expected Zyon springboard by grabbing his foot! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" "Landon's cheating manager cancels out Zyon's spottiness...I don't know whether to cry at one or the cry at the other!" despairs King. Zyon tries to kick Megan away, without actually kicking her because he's a nice guy. But a swift kick to the face might have got the job done before Landon recoups and knees Zyon in the gut, Megan innocently retreating to her man's corner now he's in control. "I don't know why the referee's continue to allow Megan to stay out here." bemoans Mak, as Landon gives Megan a cheeky a-okay signal. "But, what the hell, it's a party I guess." "Wouldn't be a party without some finger-food, am i rite?" "..." Despite signs of relief it stills seems like Landon's mind is elsewhere and he takes his time before following up with a forearm strike, wobbling Zyon. The Unique Youth's grip on the top rope tightens after a second forearm as he senses his balance weakening. And that tempts Landon, grabbing the rope himself and bringing in Zyon the hard way...only for Zyon land on his feet, in what would be a hard way if he wasn't agile enough to flip 360 in mid-air. "Incredible agility!" cheers Mak. Before Landon can react, Zyon hits the ropes in front of him. Landon prepares to catch him coming on the way back, lifting Zyon at the side but ending up tumbling overhead as Zyon counters with a tilt a whirl headscissors! A back elbow then awaits as the World Champion rushes back in. Reeling, Maddix haplessly walks into a standing dropkick, putting him down again and setting up the first cover... ONE! TWO! But Maddix is quickly out and quickly looking for another reprieve as he scrambles into a corner. Zyon has learnt his lesson and gives Maddix no time to recover, striding in with a boot before returning the forearm favour. One, two and three find the mark before Zyon grabs the wrist, wringing the arm for some added control before whipping Maddix into the opposite corner. Buckling in the buckles, Landon ends up slumped and a sitting target for Zyon who sprints in and dives in for his favoured knee to the face. Two boots to the face intercept him though, as Maddix gets a desperate block in. With a signal of 'that's enough', Landon then hops up and perches on the middle rope... *SMACK!* ...which Zyon pre-empts, with an impressive standing vertical leap and an enziguri, striking Landon more in the shoulder than the back of the head. It still connects though and still sends Landon tumbling from the top, over and on to the floor. "And a nice counter from Zyon." Mak points out. "Landon has been favouring a big DDT off the second floor in recent weeks, not to mention the Crash Landon. Point being, if Landon's on the middle rope, it spells trouble and Zyon knew that." Out on the outside again, Landon tries to ignore the advances of the rather touchy-feely Bahamian fans, brushing away outstretched arms as he pulls himself away from the barricade. Megan is nowhere to be seen this time. And it's soon obvious why that is, as Zyon breaks into a run-up and shoots towards the ropes, turning his back on the ropes at the end of his run and tumbling BACKWARDS over the top with an insane Running Moonsault Plancha Suicida!!! "WHAT!?!" Exactly. "What the hell was that!?!" King asks again, incredulous in the face of Zyon's athleticism. "Whatever it was, Zyon is having none of the problems Landon is! He's fully focused and he knows a victory tonight is his only hope of going to 13th Hour!" Pulling himself up, Zyon is much more receptive of the eager Carribeans and slaps hands with a few before going back to the match at hand, hauling Maddix up and dumping him into the ring. Maddix is reeling and holds his left shoulder, the one Zyon just tumbled down on so theatrically. That gives Zyon time to set himself on the apron and warn referee Hardcastle to keep an eye on Megan, which is exactly what he does while The Unique Youth prepares for an unaffected springboard. Maddix stumbles up and Zyon gets the springboard, cocking back the arm. His usual preparation alerts Landon who instinctively ducks his head to block the oncoming forearm, but Zyon is able to adjust in mid-air and soar over Landon, snaring the waist and taking him over with a sunset flip... ONE! TWO! Kickout! Both men roll through and while Landon retreats, Zyon charges in with momentum on his side. Landon looks to use that momentum against him as he ducks his head nears the ropes, looking to 'bandera' Zyon up and over the top lucha-libre style...but merely to a safe landing on the apron. Through more relief than complacency, Landon walks away to collect himself, little realising what awaits behind him. That is, until Megan frantically points out her man's mistake, prompting Maddix to turn around just as Zyon springboards, cocks the arm back, soars... ...AND GETS DROPKICKED OUT OF THE AIR BY THE WORLD CHAMPION!! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" "Ooh!" groans Mak. "One trip to the well too many for Zyon." "That's his problem." King gloats, ever happy at the chance to sound correct. "Zyon just loves those springboards, he loves to please the fans. What he doesn't love is rational thinking and rational thinking would have told him three springboard attempts so early in the match had to spell trouble. Landon's dumb, but not that dumb." "I knew this match was a bad idea with you out here." Zyon writhes on the mat holding his gut while Landon takes the opportunity to get a breather, displaying his stamina in the face of Zyon's offence by busting out a couple of star-jumps mid ring. Just a couple. No point in over-exerting yourself. Grabbing hold of Zyon's stringy hair (and earning a warning from Hardcastle in the process), Maddix then drags Zyon up and drives a sharp knee into the gut! And a second! Zyon coughs and splutters while Maddix does a little sidestep to end up in front... *SMACK!* "OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" ...and DROPS Zyon with a stiff kick to the sternum! "That's one way to ground Zyon." Zyon sits straight back up in search of oxygen, while Landon looks to rob him of it with a rather elementary hold, a rear chinlock. "Neither of this men are known for their amateur backgrounds." admits Mak pre-emptively. Fighting to his feet, Zyon is being worn down but certainly can't be classed as 'in trouble'. An elbow weakens up the chinlock and a second breaks it, but Landon simply reaches out and yanks Zyon back sharply with two handfuls of hair to bring him back down to the mat. Hardcastle again chastises the World Champion, but his words fall on deaf ears, Landon crossing his heart that he did nothing wrong. The 'innocent' Landon then goes back after Zyon, aiming for the gut as he brings his relatively small frame down with an elbow drop. That doesn't seem to have too much behind it, so Landon grabs the hair again, sitting Zyon up... *SMACK!* ...and pounding Zyon's spine with a Dragon Kick! *SMACK!* ...and a second! Zyon slumps backwards now, his air supply being picked away slowly but surely. And Landon now looks to follow up some more. Coming off the ropes Maddix leaps up over Zyon, before coming directly down across the chest with a double stomp, dropping out as he bounces off The Unique Youth and bombing down with a back senton that earns him Megan's applause. "Double Stomp and a Back Senton, patented combo from Landon!" groans Francis. "Double impact, you're left winded by the first and the instantanous follow-up of the second rids you of any air you may have had left." Sitting for a moment, Landon's familiar flamboyancy has returned as he smirks in the direction of the nearest cameraman, winking for the laydeez at home before lounging back with a relaxed cover... ONE! TWO! ZYON SHOCKS LANDON WITH A CRUCIFIX... ONE! TWO! NO! Landon kicks out and rushes back in with a soccer kick that lands directly across Zyon's stomach, putting Zyon back on the search for air and giving the World Champion time to breathe a massive sigh of relief. "Zyon may be hurt, but going for ridiculous covers like that is a dangerous thing to do at any point in a match." criticises The Franchise. Back on the offensive now is Landon as he steps over Zyon who is on all fours and simply drops, sitting his weight across the lower back! Crumbling, Zyon continues to struggle and referee Hardcastle moves in to check on him, but the Cruiserweight Champion isn't going to give up that easily. So Landon fires off another soccer punt across the ribs. Zyon writhes some more, giving Landon the opportunity to turn out to the crowd and pose in true exaggerated Zyon form. "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" With his point proven and his mocking of Zyon's taunt of choice checked off of his to-do list, Landon finally goes back to work on Zyon, pulling him off the mat for a Kawada-esque kicks aimed at the chest. Zyon rocks back on his knees and opens the chest up... *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOOOO!" ...leaving himself prone for a hard knifedge chop. *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOOOO!" ...and a second. These shots are taking their toll even more than usual with the previous punishment and Zyon is left slumped on his knees, unable to fend Landon off as he grabs him behind the head and pulls him slowly to his feet. With the hands still clasped around the back of the head, Landon then fires off a couple of quick knees up into the ribcage before tucking the knees up and bringing Zyon down with an Inverted Lungblower! The wind rushes from Zyon's body again but Landon isn't done as he scrambles back up, positioning himself behind the languishing Unique Youth and hooking the hands around the front this time. Up go the knees again and down comes Zyon across them, this time with the traditional Lungblower!! "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" "And that was the last thing Zyon needed." "No, this is." corrects King, as Landon cradles Zyon up into a pin... ONE! TWO! TH- KICKOUT! "YYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!" "And apparantly, these people want Zyon at 13th Hour." Maddix looks up at Hardcastle incredulously and questions the count, slapping his hand three times for visual impact, but Hardcastle insists it was just a two. Rushing over, Megan leans through the ropes and encourages Landon to stay on Zyon and not worry about the referee, so Landon does just that as he stands and waits on the Unique Youth. "ZY - ON!" "ZY - ON!" "ZY - ON!" "ZY - ON!" Impatient, Maddix gives up waiting and meets Zyon as he reaches his knees with plans on helping Zyon the rest of the way up. Zyon reels him in as he gets close though, snaring a leg and trying to lift Landon up into a fireman's carry. The lack of air and the aching ribs don't allow him to get Landon more than a foot or two off the ground however and Landon finds himself back to safe ground before CLUBBING Zyon over the back with a forearm. The Unique Youth falls to his knees, but Maddix doesn't settle for that, bringing Zyon up with a scoop and a slam. "You wanna fly, Mr. Flippy Mc Flipperton? Let me show you how it's done." Landon then yells down at Zyon with absolutely no intimidation factor what-so-ever while he clutches his back uncomfortably on the mat. Turning to the corner, Landon stoll over and slaps the top turnbuckle before exiting to the apron and heading up top. "This may be a little ill-advised." predicts Mak. "Landon has Zyon where he wants him, but for some reason he's going to the top rope." Climbing up the ropes despite the best concerns of his manageress, Maddix stops on the middle and treats the Carribean natives to a quick shimmy dance before making the next step up. Setting himself on top, Maddix steadies himself. Zyon still hasn't moved from where he was slammed, still favouring his ribs. The perfect target for Landon, as he stands and leaps from up top... ...tucking the legs in, out... ...and MISSING the Frog Splash, as Zyon rolls despairingly out of the way!! "YYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" "A miscue!" cheers Francis. "I don't know if Zyon was playing a little possum, but he was able to avoid the Frog Splash and now both men are down!" "And it was a dumb move on Maddix's part." King gleefully announces. "He was in total control, but he's got some stupid chip on his shoulder and instead of staying on his opponent, he wanted to show him up. Pride comes before a fall. Literally in this case." Both Zyon and Landon remain down, in similiar predicaments to one another, both holding their guts and both taking an opportunity to collect sorely needed breath. "ONE!" "TWO!" Which is where Sexton shines, laying a double ten on the man guaranteed to go to 13th Hour as Champion and the other, desperate to make it as challenger. "THREE!" "FOUR!" "FIVE!" Megan slams her fists on the ring apron encouraging Landon to 'suck it up', a worrying notion with their relationship in mind. Having taken the most punishment, Zyon is slowest to stir and slowest to begin picking himself up. "SIX" "SEVE..." Hardcastle's count is halted at seven as Maddix has sufficently got himself in fighting condition again and climbs to his feet. By now Zyon is to his knees with the ropes helping him up finally to his feet, by which time Landon is waiting on him. As he turns around, Maddix comes in confidently with a forearm...but Zyon ducks, popping Landon with a forearm of his own! "YYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!" Back stumbles Landon, with Zyon advancing with another forearm! And a third! The World Champ is on the backfoot now as Zyon has found a second wind and uses it to rush the ropes. Seeing his opponent hurtle towards him, Maddix throws out a knee as a defence. Zyon spots it a mile away however and tumbles over it, snaring Maddix over with a schoolboy roll-up... ONE! TWO! Kickout! Coming back up, Landon is taken aback by Zyon's sudden comeback and is eager to stop it, charging at Zyon with forearm exposed. He's cut off with a boot though. Hooking hold of the head under his arm, Zyon then tries to manoeuvre himself into position for the 3.0 Backbreaker... which Maddix fights off, holding onto the top rope and arching over, tipping Zyon up and over the top rope... safely to the apron. "Boy, that was a close one!" mutters Maddix under his breath. Assuming his work has been done, Landon earns himself a right hand to the face though, sending him stumbling backwards. A quick check from Zyon confirms Megan is out of reach, giving him no good reason not to springboard to the top, soar in with fist clenched, arm cocked... ...AND NAIL THE SPRINGBOARD FOREARM!! "YYYEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" "Fourth time's the charm!" Mak cheers. "Zyon finally hits the Springboard Forearm Smash and you can sense both the tide and his luck changing!" A newfound sense of confidence exudes from Zyon as, on the back of this mini-victory, he waits for Landon to get back up. He can sense the end. Especially as Landon gets back to his feet in a stupor and can barely stand steady, stumbling around and towards the Unique Youth. *SMACK!* Zyon lands a kick to the left shoulder! *SMACK!* A second kick, aimed at the same bodypart! *WHIFF!* Landon ducks the third however... ...but hang on a second, as Zyon pirouettes all the way through, takes the arm with a Fujiwara takedown and attempts to apply the Gouki Crossface!! "YYYYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAA... Joy is short lived however, as Landon rolls through before Zyon can trap the arm between his legs and escapes the potential submission predicament. Rolling away, Zyon creates enough distance to be able to take a run at Maddix as he reaches his feet. However, Maddix ducks Zyon's attempted clothesline and forces Zyon to run on to the ropes again. Zyon has another idea and leaps before he can bounce, touching down on the middle rope and springboarding back looking for a crossbody block. But again Landon is equal and sidesteps Zyon, then catches Zyon on his way back up with a duck of the head and a Samoan Drop! "Wow, impressive from Landon, able to stay a step ahead of the Unique Youth." admits Mak. "A weak Unique Youth." King argues. "Yes, he has taken some punishment." "Yeah that too." Favouring his left shoulder Maddix is unable to follow up with a pinfall attempt immediately. Encouragement from Megan wills him to forget about that and lay back with the right arm across the shoulders... ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! "GAH!" Frustration is the reaction from Landon as he has to force himself back up again, this time dragging Zyon with him. A couple of forearms soften Zyon up before Landon goes back to the ribs, landing a knee that has Zyon flagging once more. Cupping a hand under the jaw, Landon does the ol' 'cutthroat' dealy and signals to the crowd that it's OVAH~! Only, it's not, as Zyon elbows his way out of a Complete Shot attempt, then hooks Landon and drops him in a similiar fashion with Downfall! "A counter by Zyon, but his ribs are still giving problems and he hasn't got enough to make the pin straight away." sighs The Franchise. Landon ends up facedown on the mat, forcing Zyon to find some more reserves to first roll him over, then hook a leg for the cover... ONE! TWO! SHOULDER UP!! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" The crowd get on Hardcastle's case, but Zyon doesn't concern himself with that and instead hauls Landon back up to his feet. An arm wring sets up an irish whip to the corner, Landon nestling in the buckles. Zyon then gets himself another run-up and charges in, only for Maddix to get the feet up...but Zyon blocks the feet, catches Maddix and drags him out, straight into a Powerbomb!! "Wow, counter again by Zyon!" "And look where Maddix's ended up." points out King. "Straight in spot city." Indeed, Landon has landed in 'spot city', aka right in front of the turnbuckles, in perfect position for Zyon. Rubbing out some pain in the ribs, Zyon exits and heads to the top, bringing the Carribean crowd to their feet with him. Zyon's climb is hampered by his previous injuries but he manages to fight through it and reaches the top regardless, setting himself upstairs and tumbles off, Megan shrieking prematurely as Zyon comes flipping down... ...WITH A 450!!!! "YYEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" ONE! TWO! THR - "REF, REF!" FOOT ON THE ROPES!!! "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" Megan barely gets Hardcastle's attention in time to point out the foot, nearly giving himself a coronary in the process. "Amazingly, Landon saved himself...but Zyon's going back up top!" Just as Mak calls, Zyon is indeed heading up top again. This time Zyon's feeling it and he scales up a little quicker, adrenaline urging him on for another flip. Zyon shows majestic form, tumbling... ...this time with the Final Flash... ...ONTO THE KNEES!!! "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" "God, that'll do the ribs no good!" The crowd deflate like...well, like Zyon's lungs, as Zyon goes through onto his hands and knees with an anguished look on his face. Megan is around to fan Maddix down with the trusty towel to get him some air. But Landon doesn't need it and shoos the treatment away, clambering back to his feet and stalking towards Zyon. *THWACK!* Landon slams a kick across the spine. *THWACK!* Again. *THWACK!* *THWACK!* *THWACK!* *THWACK!* *THWACK!* Again and again and again... ...BEFORE SNATCHING ON THE DRAGON CLUTCH!! "YYEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!" "Land Of Nod!" calls Mak. "The Land Of Nod is applied!" *TAPTAPTAPTAP!* "YYYYEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!" *DINGDINGDING!* "Your winner of the match, via submission... the SWF World Heavyweight Champion... LANDON "LA CUCARACHA" MMMAAAADDIIIIIXXXXXXX!!" Maddix continues to stand over Zyon as the World Title is handed to him and I've gotta go see ya'll later bye.

The camera pans the ring, which is covered in bright red carpet, and furnished with a luxurious couch and matching love seat. On the side of the ring facing the entranceway, there are two tall columns joined by an arch; stretching between the columns is a thick velvet rope. In the center of the set is a microphone stand. It doesn’t take much for the viewers to recognize this as “Well, ladies and gentlemen,” says Mak Francis, “it’s time for another installment of the House of Marvelous! What a way to kick of tonight’s broadcast!” “I’ll say,” chimes King. “The House of Marvelous has been nothing but a ratings explosion since its debut! Each show has delivered something juicy to our fans and I can’t wait to see what this installment brings!” “Well, lets get to it than!” With that, Notorious BIG’s “I Love the Dough” begins to play as Michael Anderson limps his way onto the stage, pimping a white Armani and wearing a matching fedora. Behind him is the mammoth bodyguard Tracey Bruner, his charcoal colored suit a stark contrast to that of his employer. “Ladies and gentlemen,” booms Funyon, “please welcome to the ring at this time; SIR MAAAAARVELOOOOOUS!” Marvelous greets everyone with a smile as he makes his way to the ring. He walks slowly up the steel steps, and then waits on Bruner to get up to the apron and hold open the ropes for him before he enters the ring. Once inside, he then waits for Bruner to unhook the velvet rope before he passes through the arch and picks the microphone up from the stand as his music fades out, and a lone spotlight shines down on him from above. “Greetings to all!” Marvelous begins, getting some boos for his over excitement as well as his general presence. “Tonight, as you all very well know, is a very special edition of the House of Marvelous.” He pauses, but that’s when Jim Morrison’s voice rings out over the speakers. Obviously someone is a little anxious to get this done and over with. "When I was back in seminary school..." "…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!" *BOOOM!!* The opening riff of ‘Kashmir’ by Led Zeppelin rings out as blue pyro erupts from the soundstage, heralding the arrival of one Mister Thomas Flesher! The SWF’s Commissioner struts down the ramp in full business mode and business attire, ready to make some business decisions. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Marvelous booms. “Please welcome at this time, the commissioner of the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation; ‘The Superior One’ Tom Flesher!” Flesher heads into the ring and goes right for the arches. Even as commissioner he has no intention of attempting to navigate around Bruner and take his one job of unhooking the velvet rope away. He waits as Bruner quickly pats him down for weapons, and then unhooks the rope to let him pass. “Welcome, Mr. Flesher,” greets Marvelous greets. “Let me just say that it’s an absolute honor to have you out here tonight!” “Let’s save the small chat for another time,” Flesher says, waving Anderson off. “I came out here for a purpose, and that’s to talk about the main event for 13th Hour.” “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!” “Which,” Marvelous interjects, smiling broadly as he does so, “we just so happened to have seen already tonight!” “Which is exactly why we won’t see it again,” Flesher finishes, much to the dismay of the crowd. They let Flesher know exactly how they feel about that with a sizable boo. “However, I do have something else planned. I’m going to put someone in that match who actually deserves it,” he continues, undaunted by the crowd. “You see, where I come from, title shots were earned, not handed out like condoms at a Brazilian nightclub." “You got that right,” Suicide King says. “I never had one handed to me.” “Which one? The title shot or condom?” Mak asks. King just glares a hole through him. Flesher paces back and forth, then says; “It wasn’t that long ago that I was actively competing myself. I came to this ring every single night. I never missed my flight or failed to make it here on time for my match. When I was competing it was with one thought on my mind—to become World Heavyweight Champion and I put everything I had into it!” He stops only momentarily; collecting his thoughts before continuing again. “I put every ounce of sweat, every drop of blood into the goal of winning that one prize. Hell, I practically killed myself for that chance…and Zyon, you thought you could just walk up and take that opportunity without the slightest bit of effort! You, son, didn’t have a shot from the beginning!” “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” King chimes in as Flesher, fuming, walks the length of the ring before continuing. “Landon, you thought you could maneuver around me. You thought you could just make up your own matches just because you didn’t want to have Maddix-Clark 8? Or Maddix-Dangerous 17, as you put it? Somebody who hasn't had countless shots at the World Title, like you yourself have? Landon Maddix, I think you tried to make a match that you didn’t think you could lose! That’s right; you wanted to make sure you kept your title by wrestling someone who wasn’t ready for that fight! Well guess what, Landon? I’m not going to let that happen!” “Like I said back in April,” says Flesher. “A lot can happen in six weeks… and a lot has happened. Namely, the World Title match between Landon Maddix and Zyon is most definitely off! However, I’m replacing the match with something that’s your own idea, Landon. Don’t worry; I won’t put you in a singles match against someone you’ve faced a dozen times before. Something fresh, is what you wanted so something fresh is what you’ll get. At 13th Hour… ” Flesher makes the dramatic pause. He knows that he has everyone on the edge of their seats right about now as the anxiously await the announcement, and knowing that he has them eating right out of his hand brings a smile to his face. “At 13th Hour, Landon Maddix will defend the SWF World Heavyweight Championship against Alan Clark…” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!” “…and Johnny Dangerous… in a triple threat elimination match!” “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!” “What!?” exclaims Mak. “I thought he just said he wasn’t going to put Landon in a match against those two?” “He said he wasn’t going to put him in a singles match against them. Listen up, Wheels!” “Don’t be mad, Landon,” Tom continues with a broad smile. “After all, it was your idea. I just presented it to the board and they happily approved your idea. Have a nice day and I’ll see you at 13th Hour.” With that, Flesher turns and exits as Kashmir is called up once more. “How can he book Landon Maddix in a triple threat elimination match?” questions Francis. “There’s not enough time between now and 13th Hour for Landon to properly prepare for that! How is he expected to win!?” “I think that’s the point,” the Gambling Man says, and he says it all too happily. “I think I can safely say that Landon Maddix’s time as the SWF World Heavyweight Champion is about to be over with… thank God.”

The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation Presents... SWF STORM! Live, THURSDAY, May 24th, from Thomas Robinson Stadium in the Bahamas! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- THE MAIN EVENT - TAG TEAM TITLE MATCH WILD AND DANGEROUS vs. "The Dean of Professional Wrestling" Jay Hawke and Alan Clark, Who Never Grew Up --> Why is a tag team match headlining the show above the World Cheampion? Because we're in the Bahamas, and that team is Wild And Dangerous! Wildchild makes a triumphant homecoming, but will the Dean be able to bounce back from a tough loss to Landon Maddix and show he hasn't lost anything in his time off? Rules[/b]: Standard. USE THE TAG ROPES, preferably to choke people. Word Limit: 5000 Send to: Ace309 IN THE HOUSE OF MARVELOUS: TOM FLESHER! Yes, that's right. He could get a banjo over. NON-TITLE SINGLES MATCH Zyon vs. Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix --> Zyon's getting one final chance to cement himself in the main event. Will he be able to earn back the shot that the ratings say he deserves? Rules: Standard singles. If Landon wins, Zyon will lose his title shot at 13th Hour. Either way, Tom Flesher is going to officially announce an alteration to the main event later on. Word Limit: 4500. Please write. Send to: Muzz

It's a light card because the PPV is up next. Which reminds me. Everyone tell me your PPV plans. Pretend Ineed to know them because my trusted colonel has lost his ability to help me and now I'm struggling to put together a PPV.

Your wish is my et cetera.

We return to ringside, just as the opening riff of "Learning To Fly" by Pink Floyd plays Jay Hawke out. Hawke is all business, as per usual, but looks more focused than perhaps we've ever seen him, head down and marching straight to the ring. "Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is your Main Event of the evening... scheduled for one fall, it is for the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP! Introducing first, the challenger! From the Hall Of Fame City, Cleveland, Ohio... he weighs in at two hundred and fifteen pounds... "THE DEAN OF PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING"... JJJJJJAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYY... HHHHHAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWKKEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" "Well, it's main event time." Mak Francis reminds those of us with a four second memory. "And what a main-event it promises to be! Jay Hawke challenging for the SWF World Championship, by virtue of his non-title victory last week against the Champion Landon Maddix in that Pure Rules Match. So Hawke coming into this with a lot of momentum on his side, although it's worth pointing out, this will be a regular one-on-one match tonight, no Pure Rules advantage for Hawke here." "You say that like he needs the rules to be in his favour." "No, I'm merely..." "You're merely trying to make excuses for your favourites is what you're doing." snipes The Suicide King. "There might not be a 'Pure Rules advantage' tonight, but trust me, Hawke has the advantage because this is still a wrestling match. If they were playing Buckaroo or something, maybe, just maybe it'd be an even contest. But in any sort of a wrestling environment, Hawke has the advantage, because he's Jay Hawke!" Removing his lavish robe, Hawke hands the very valuable item to a ring attendant and warns him not to even think about creasing it as he scuttles off. Turning his attention back to the stage, The Dean goes through some last minute stretches as he waits for his opponent. "There stands a confident man!" proclaims King. "Look at the calm, look at the focus, not bothered in the slightest by these obnoxious people, Maddix's people." "Firstly, Puerto Rico is not Spain. It's Puerto Rico. And yes, Hawke certainly doesn't seem phased right now. But, there's got to be a few nerves floating around inside of him. The World Heavyweight Title has alluded him for so long now, this could be his best chance to date to capture the 'big one'." "REACH OUT AND TOUCH FAITH!" The lights dim, alternating between complete blackout and really frikkin' bright as "Personal Jesus" by Marilyn Manson hits. From behind the curtain steps Megan Skye, heralding the arrival of The World Champion, Landon Maddix, who stops at the top of the ramp and thrusts his hands out to his side to cheers. The lights stop alternating but stay dimmed as he walks to the ring, the eyes of the challenger piercing through the darkness from the ring. "And, his opponent! Accompanied to the ring by MEGAN SKYE! Hailing from Huron, South Dakota by way of Madrid, Spain... weighing in at two hundred and eight pounds... he is the reigning SWF World Heavyweight Champion... LLLAAAAAANNDDOOOOONN... "LA CUCARACHA"... MMMMMAAAAAAAAADDIIIIIIIIIXXXXXXXXXXXXXX!!!!" "YYYYYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" Maddix tags some hands on his way to the ring, taking a detour to give some ringside females bearing his new female-fit "Viva La Cucaracha" t-shirts some extra 'attention', before he leaps to the apron and disrobes. The cheers and screams don't seem to phase Hawke as Maddix unstraps his World Title and spins theatrically into the ring, dangling the belt tauntingly in front of Hawke for a moment before raising it above his head. "Showing the belt off, in front of the guy who beat him so soundly just a week ago, as if nothing happened. Shameless." disapproves King. "Hawke may have picked up the win last week. But, tonight's the night that really counts." "You're right." King concedes. "I guess Maddix's ego is stronger than just one defeat, so tonight Hawke's got to go back to square one, school him a little and let him know that he's just as good without Pure Rules as he is with them. Then we'll see how cocky 'La Cucaracha' is." As Megan takes up her station on the outside with a thumbs-up to her man, Maddix passes assigned referee Sexton Hardcastle the World Title, which he shows to Hawke before raising it for the crowd. Still focused, Hawke tries to loosen up, not taking his eyes off of Maddix as he does so. "LAN - DON!" "LAN - DON!" "LAN - DON!" "LAN - DON!" Smiling, Maddix eggs on the crowd, a little to the chagrin of Hawke. *DING DING DING* Meanwhile, Hardcastle calls for the bell and we are underway. Neither champion or challenger bursts out of the gates at the bell though. Instead, the two slowly advance towards the centre of the ring, eyes locked as they meet in the middle and go face to face. Words are clearly exchanged between the two and Hawke, the aggressor, starts to poke Maddix in the chest to further get his point across. Maddix just smirks through it all though... *SLAP!* "OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" ...until he recieves a slap to the face! "There we go!" cheers King. "That's one way to keep an ego in check!" Clutching his cheek, Maddix fumes as its Hawke now who smirks away to himself. Maddix comes back up and swings his arm around, prompting the challenger to duck. But Landon fakes him out, catching Hawke unawares by pulling him into a side headlock. Quickly, the challenger backs Maddix into the ropes and shoves him off, looking for a clothesline. Maddix ducks and hits the opposite ropes, charging on at full speed and hitting a shoulder block...but Hawke stands his ground. Both men stop dead and glare at each other before Hawke encourages Maddix to try again. Which he does, getting as much run-up as possible...but again, neither man budges more than a few inches and neither goes down. This time, Maddix tells Hawke to try his luck. So Hawke hits the ropes, but Maddix leapfrogs him on the way back, before catching Hawke on the rebound with a Dropsault that sends Hawke scurrying to the floor! "YYYEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!" "Maddix suckered the challenger into that one!" Mak applauds. "Just like last week, Landon trying to take The Dean Of Professional Wrestling off of his game early in the match!" With the Puerto Rican fans around him on his back, The Dean tries to compose himself out on the floor, but suddenly has to duck and cover as Maddix charges... ...faking a dive and casually bouncing off the ropes. Which is made all the more embarrassing for the challenger, as the World Champion feels the need to bow for his adoring public. Hawke meanwhile rolls into the ring, trying to catch Maddix unawares, only to run into a forearm! And a second! As Hawke reels around, Maddix quickly charges him, pushing him back into the ropes before whipping him across the ring. Leaping early, Maddix manages to land on his feet as Hawke clings onto the top rope to stop his momentum this time, Landon recovering to charge towards the challenger. Hawke ducks his head, ready to backdrop Maddix over to the floor. But the World Champion is again one step ahead, sliding through Hawke' legs and tripping him up from the floor! *THUD!* The challenger's face bounces off the canvas and he groggily climbs back up, with Landon pointing to his head, to show he has the brains. It's left to argueably the real brains of the operation, Megan Skye, to remind him he's got a match to win in the ring though, Maddix telling his manageress to 'cold chill' as he clambers back onto the apron, just in time to catch the reeling Hawke with a shoulder barge through the ropes. And a second. Over doubles Hawke, as Maddix pulls his head through the ropes, lining Hawke up before SMASHING him in the jaw with a Kawada Kick!! *SMACK!* "OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" "Wow! What a SHOT!" "How is Hawke not in the ropes right now? I know this isn't Pure Rules, but I'm begging Hardcastle to at least enforce some rules here!" Gripping onto the middle rope to stop himself from falling to the canvas, Jay is left in perfect position for Landon to vault in over the top, pulling Hawke down into a Sunset Flip... ONE! TWO! No! Both men roll back through to their feet, but Landon gets tangled up in the ropes, which allows Jay to pounce with a double axehandle to the back of the head! A couple more sledges drop down on Landon before he's dragged up by Hawke, pinned against the ropes and jammed with a knee in the breadbasket. A second knee finds the mark before Hardcastle orders Hawke to get his opponent out of the ropes, which he does via an irish whip. As Maddix rebounds, Hawke takes him in with a tilt and a whirl... ...but Landon tilts and whirls with it and ends up on his feet in front of the surprised Dean... *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOOOO!" ...and rattled with a knifedge chop! *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOOOO!" ...and a second! Feeding his jaw for some reason, Landon dares Hawke to take a swing in retaliation. Which he does... but, Landon ducks... *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOOOO!" ...and connects with a third knifedge! "He's just playing with Hawke now." smirks Mak. "Well, then he's playing a dangerous game!" With Hawke backed up from that strike, Landon turns on his heels and makes for the ropes. Coming out of his slumber, in follows Hawke, looking to catch Landon coming off the ropes with a knee to the gut. Maddix sees it in time though and tucks over the leg as he schoolboys Hawke over... ONE! TWO! NO! As he kicks out, Hawke scrambles to his feet and follows after Landon looking to take his head off with a clothesline. However, he ends up following him right into the corner, Maddix luring him in and sidestepping just in time to see Hawke run himself into the turnbuckles! And he staggers right back into another schoolboy rollup... "Landon using his speed excellently here, he's taken Hawke completely off of his guard!" ONE! TWO! NO! Up staggers Hawke, seemingly lost as Maddix lines him up...but doesn't expect a Hawke basement dropkick that strikes him square in the knee! Maddix's leg shoots out from underneath him, causing him to collapse to the canvas clutching his leg, as Hawke points out his cerebralness to the crowd. "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" "And now, Jay Hawke going after the right knee of La Cucaracha. I'm sure this wasn't in the gameplan." "No, they would have had the Wing Span scouted after last week I'm sure. But Jay Hawke is far from being a one-dimensional wrestler, Mak. I'm sure he knew Landon would have spent all week making sure to keep his arm safe, so he's throwing him a bit of a curveball and picking a different bodypart." Hawke ruthlessly goes to work with some stomps across the knee of The Next Generation as the boos continue to rain down on him. Reaching down, the challenger then drags Maddix up, taking his time over nailing a forearm. Hawke follows up with a second before shoving Maddix back into the corner. Following in, Hawke nails a European uppercut. Maddix tries to shake it off and push his challenger away, but Hawke quickly hits a second, before stomping at the knee again. Aware of the bullseye now placed on his right knee, Landon makes another effort to push Hawke off and tries to come out of the corner swinging. Hawke meets him with a firm punt to the kneecap though, again dropping Maddix. "So much for the speed." chuckles King. "Know any speedy people with one leg Mak?" "Well, some of the Paralympians obviously." Howling in agony, Maddix clutches his knee, Hawke standing over him and measuring a stomp to the head. Hawke then pulls up Maddix, hooking up and executing a vertical suplex, with a floatover... ONE! TWO! Quick kickout by Maddix, but Hawke is already floating over once more, looking to take control of Maddix's leg as he does so. With his free leg, Maddix frantically kicks away Hawke though and hobbles up to his feet in a hurry. Or, foot at least. Shooting low, Hawke picks the standing leg right out from under Landon though, keeping hold of the ankle and dropping an elbow across the knee! From there he tries to wrap the leg up and bar it. A couple of fingers in the nose and mouth stop that though, Landon fishooking the challenger out of desperation. "ONE!" "TWO!" "THREE!" "FOU..." Landon breaks the illegal hold, with Hawke successfully away from his knee. For now. "That's some champion, huh? Proud Mak?" "The irony of you pointing out all these illegal holds isn't lost on you by any chance partner, is it?" Climbing back up, Hawke this time positions himself over Maddix and watches for an errant kicks, reaches down and applying a half boston crab. As he sits in, Maddix curses away, while Hawke makes sure to bend and twist the knee as much as possible. "LAN - DON!" "LAN - DON!" "LAN - DON!" "LAN - DON!" The chants rise through the Coliseo de Puerto Rico, as Maddix grits his teeth and reaches out desperately for the ropes. Hawke hangs on tightly though, giving the knee and extra little torque to try and punish the World Champion for his determination. Maddix begins to crawl to shakes of the head from Hawke, but his head shaking does no good, as Maddix... ...REACHES THE ROPES! "YYEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" A cheer goes up, but Hawke doesn't completely let Maddix go. Instead, Hawke lifts Maddix's leg by the ankle before slamming it down into the mat. Hawke follows up with a stomp just for good measure, before smirking out into the crowd. "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" "Well Hawke has successfully picked off a bodypart. But, he's deviating away from his usual gameplan and his trusted submission holds, all of which target the arm and neck. Has he got a sufficient leg submission in the locker?" "He's the Dean Of Professional Wrestling!" snaps King in response. "Of course he has! I've told you already, he's no one-trick pony." Hawke grabs Maddix's leg again, slamming it to the canvas a second time. In his desperation to get a chance to recover, Landon grabs hold of the bottom rope and refuses to let go, which forces Hardcastle to step in. "LAN - DON!" "LAN - DON!" "LAN - DON!" "LAN - DON!" Up go the chants, the challenger happy to follow the referee's orders to back up while Maddix is using the ropes to pull himself up. Hawke catches him coming to his feet with a boot to the gut though, followed by a succession right hands that rock Maddix up against the ropes. Once his hand tires of cracking his opponent in the jaw, Hawke grabs Maddix and whips him across the ring, waiting for Maddix to bounce back before launching another dropkick low. The boots catch Maddix a little higher than intended, in the thigh muscle and he shoots up, landing SPIKED on his head to the shock of Megan! Seeing this, Hawke quickly scrambles over and decides to make a cover... ONE! TWO! Kickout! Hawke is quickly back up, laying in more vicious stomps. Maddix tries to fight them off but Hawke keeps kicking until finally referee Hardcastle has to pull him away again. Shoving Robinson aside, Hawke goes back over to Maddix and pulls him up. *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOOOO!" ...and meets Landon's first line of defence again, the knifedge chop! *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOOOO!" ...a second... ...duck of the third... ...but Maddix ducks Hawke' following right hand as he turns, applying a waistlock. That doesn't last long however, as Hawke kicks back and hits Maddix in the kneecap a couple of times, continuing the kicking until Maddix lets go. As he does, Hawke is quick to hit the ropes behind, diving at Landon and cutting out his right leg with a well-placed chopblock! "Right back to the knee goes Hawke!" "This is more than just picking a bodypart now. How much offence can Landon impliment with only one leg? Not much at all. You're not going to beat anyone with a knifedge chop." With Maddix still on his knees, Hawke lines him up and hits the ropes again, charging headlong at Maddix. With the World Champion only just beginning to rise, Jay looks to use the position to his advantage, hooking the head and looking for a Swinging Neckbreaker. But, the move works about as well as it did last week, Landon swinging through and looking for a Backslide... ...Hawke manages to block though, sensing the reversal sooner than he had seven days ago and finding his footing a little quicker. But before he can actually break the arms apart, Hawke gets twisted through once more, right into a Small Package... ONE! TWO! Kickout! "Well, he almost beat him with a Small Package King!" teases Mak, King just grunting. First to his feet, Jay again picks off the leg with a kick to maintain the advantage. Hawke then picks out the knee again, Landon able to maintain his balance on his good leg but left hopping around as Hawke drives the point of his elbow down into he kneecap. Keeping hold of the leg, Jay then drags Maddix out into the centre of the ring, a better position... *SMACK!* "YYYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!" ...for who knows what, as Maddix beats him to the punch (so to speak) by firing off an Enziguri from his standing leg! "Caught him!" cheers Mak. Dazed, Hawke sprawls forward, turning eventually as the ropes hold him up. *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOOOO!" ...to be met with a stinging knifedge. Hawke clutches his chest but quickly goes to the knee with a kick. But Maddix fights the pain this time and uses it for more venom behind... *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOOOO!" ...a second chop! Hawke grimaces and clutches his chest again, which allows Maddix to attempt an irish whip. Hawke reverses the whip, only for Maddix to spin under and whip again...only for Hawke to reverse a SECOND time. A duck of the head from The Dean Of Professional Wrestling proves costly though, as Landon hops to a stop, wringing out the near arm and stepping over. Straddling the arm, Landon then fires his leg up underneath the jaw, snapping Hawke's head like an uppercut from a prize fighter! "¡Buenas Noches!" "But he used the wrong leg." smiles King. And he's right, as Landon curses to himself as a bolt of pain shoots through his right leg again. Hawke is still on his feet but looking a little punch-drunk. However Landon is unable to capitalise, falling to one knee and trying to rub the pain out of his right leg. Megan screams for her man to get back on the attack, worried that Hawke won't be dazed forever. She has a right to be worried too, as Landon climbs back up... *SMACK!* ...but quickly falls back down, courtesy of a Roundhouse Kick to the back of the head!! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" Hawke dives on top of Maddix and cradles the legs... ONE! TWO! NO! "That was an impressive kick from Hawke, but not enough to put Landon away just yet." "Well, the punches that knock you out are always the ones you don't see coming." points out King. "That wasn't a punch, but I'm pretty sure Maddix didn't see it coming. I didn't see him brace himself for the impact and he certainly didn't put hands up to block. He's that bit closer to a clean knockout now." Pulling Maddix back up, Hawke picks the bad leg of the champion and snaps an uppercut across the back of Maddix's knee. A second almost causes Maddix to buckle from the pain, but he stays upright on his one, good standing leg. That is until Hawke pulls him over with a quick dragon screw though to put an end to his resiliance. Straight from that, Hawke scrambles up and whips around Maddix's leg with a figure four in mind... ...but Maddix grabs a handful of Hawke' hair and fires off a right hand! A second! Grabbing the hair again, Maddix goes for a third, but Hawke suddenly WRENCHES at the knee with almost a spinning toe-hold which stops Maddix in his tracks! And with Maddix hurt, the challenger takes the opportunity to quickly apply the figure four leglock! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" "And this may be the hold! This may be the hold that'll garner a submission from all the damage done to that right leg!" gasps Mak. "A move Maddix knows all too well. Just a pity he doesn't know the counter to it, huh?" With his hands clenched to his face, Maddix moans and groans with every Hawke wrench of the hold, the challenger pushing up onto his hands to apply more pressure on the hold. The pain is clear, as Maddix pushes up to face Hawke for a moment. But he quickly collapses back... ONE! TWO! Maddix pushes off of his shoulders, almost forgetting where he was in the midst of the pain. Hawke has the hold applied tightly and Maddix, glancing towards the ropes, seems out of reach. Still he tries to move towards the ropes though, knowing that they may be his only escape. Hawke pushes up again on his hands, causing another howl from Maddix as the pressure intensifies. The Champion grits his teeth through the pain for another attempt at dragging himself to safety. But again Hawke wrenches the hold, which causes Maddix to fall to the mat again... ONE! TWO THR- NOO! Maddix JUST pushes off the canvas in time! "OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" "What an embarrassment that would have been," King laughs, "to be pinned by a Figure Four to lose the World Title! If Hawke beat him like that, I don't think you'd ever hear the end of it!" "No kidding." groans Mak at the mere prospect of more ammunition for his erstwhile partner. "LAN - DON!" "LAN - DON!" "LAN - DON!" "LAN - DON!" The crowd rally behind the Champion, with Megan's encouragement, as his face contorts in agony. But suddenly, his right arm shoots up, as he tries to lean his weight over. Hawke shakes his head 'NO', wrenching again. But Maddix continues to try and turn the hold, leaning up to the left, pushed onto his hip. Looking worried, Hawke starts to jump up and down with the hold in an attempt to stop Maddix from turning. The chants continue to grow meanwhile, as Hawke tries to claw his fingers into the mat... ...as Maddix falls back to the left... ...and catches Hawke napping, turning to the left with the challenger's own momentum and REVERSING THE HOLD!!! "WOAH!" "YYYYEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!" The crowd pop, but Hawke is close enough to the ropes to quickly grab them and force an almost immediate break. "Landon escapes for now, but the damage may have already been done!" insists King. Climbing back up, Hawke waits for Maddix to drag himself up before kicking him in the back of the knee. Maddix falls with his throat across the middle rope, hand clutched to his knee. Hawke then places a knee in the back of Maddix's neck, choking him on the ropes!! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" Hardcastle issues a count of 4 before Hawke releases, backing up with the referee's warning falling virtually on deaf ears. Mainly because the challenger is planning out his next move, brushing the referee aside... *SMACK!* ...and dropkicking Landon hard in the back as he lays on the ropes! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" Maddix collapses back off the ropes, with Hawke quickly diving onto him and making a lateral press... ONE! TWO! NO!! Angered at not getting the pin, Hawke glares at Robinson and questions the count. He then clambers up, bringing Maddix with him...but getting rocked with a headbutt to the solar plexus! The wind rushes out of Hawke, but he quickly clubs Maddix across the shoulder blades. Only to get a second headbutt drilled into his mid-drift, Hawke doubling over this time. However, as Maddix tries a third headbutt, the now wised-up Hawke draws him in and traps Maddix in a front facelock. Maddix tries to punch himself free, but suddenly Hawke starts to backtrack, bringing Maddix with him...and ends up ramming his head, backwards, into the middle turnbuckle!! "OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" As his head strikes the poorly padded stell buckle, Landon seems to go limp for a moment before Hawke walks him out into the centre of the ring. Still hanging onto the front facelock, the challenger wrenches up on the neck a couple more times, with Hardcastle moving around to check for any submission. He's quickly shooed away by Hawke though, as he suddenly drops back and PLANTS Landon with the DDT! ONE! TWO! "New Cha..." SHOULDER UP! "YYYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" "Damnit, how did he kick out of that!?" King demands to know, glaring in Hardcastle's general direction as he confirms to ringside it was just 2. Staggering to his feet, the Champion is disorientated, long enough for Hawke to hit the opposite ropes and chopblo...NO! Maddix somehow hurdles the chopblock, catching Hawke as he turns around and SPIKING him on his head with a DDT of his own!! "Desperation move! But what an effective one!" The impact flips Hawke over onto his back. And despite being in serious pain, Maddix drops an arm over Hawke' torso for the cover... ONE! TWO! THR-- NO!!! Just two! "OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" The crowd groan as Hawke' shoulder shoots off the mat, Megan slapping the apron in frustration. Maddix groans too, limping to one corner of the ring and encouraging up the challenger. Up comes Hawke and despite the bad wheel Maddix tries to charge at him. Predictably his right knee tweaks on him and hampers his run, giving Hawke time to catch him coming and whip Maddix around with a tilt-a-whirl, around into the Backbreaker! ONE! TWO! Kickout! Jumping right off of the pin, Hawke quickly cradles up the legs. Lacing one atop the other, it seems Hawke is looking to apply a Texas Cloverleaf, which the World Champion knows means trouble, scrambling backwards until he reaches the bottom turnbuckle in one corner. Hawke tries to pull him out but Landon is gripping onto the bottom buckle with his life, Hardcastle again calling for Hawke to break. Which Jay seems reluctant to do. The protests from the challenger distract him, long enough for Landon to use the turnbuckle to pull himself out of the ring, Hawke still holding onto the ankles, which drags him forward FACE-FIRST into the top turnbuckle!! "YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!" "Damnit! If this were Pure Rules, Maddix would have been out of ropebreaks about 10 minutes ago!" "But, Jay doesn't need Pure Rules, remember?" "Shut up." Hawke collapses to an uproarious cheer. Both Maddix and Hawke are hurting now as Megan wanders around to check on her man. "LAN - DON!" "LAN - DON!" "LAN - DON!" "LAN - DON!" "This crowd getting behind the World Heavyweight Champion!" Mak calls. "Will it be enough to block out the pain in that right knee though?" "Maybe for a minute or so. But the moment he tries to use it for a move... and he will, because he's stubborn... he'll be right back in Hawke's hands." Out from under the turnbuckles crawls Landon, with Hawke also up by now but unsure of where he is and more importantly where Landon is. Quickly Maddix hooks on a waistlock, looking for a German. But he doesn't have the strength in his one good leg to execute the move, so pushes Hawke off and instead hooks him by the chin, setting him up for the Lungblower. Twisting around, Hawke quickly charges Maddix into the turnbuckles and follows in with a second shoulder barge before coming out, Champion in tow, trying for a Northern Lights... ...but Maddix uses his good leg for a knee to the gut to block just as he's raised off the canvas! Landing back on his feet, Maddix fires in some more knees, breaking Hawke's grip around his waist. Into the corner backs Landon now, hopping up to the middle turnbuckle and giving the signal as he leaps off... ...Hawke sidestepping out of the way of the DDT he took last week. Landon is able to adjust and safely land on his feet. But, landing on his feet means landing on his right leg, which jars on impact! "See, what did I tell you Mak! Right back into Jay's ha..." *WHAM!* "COMPLETE SHOT!" shouts Mak, as Landon manages to catch Hawke and plant him face-first in a desparate counter as he walks in. "From out of nowhere!" "Son of a..." Hawke' head snaps back and he collapses facedown on the canvas, as Maddix painfully rolls him onto his back and makes a cover... ONE! TWO! NO!! Just a two count!! "Maddix clutches his head in his hands...he KNOWS that was close!" "But not close enough!" Maddix limps back up again, running his thumb across his throat like people with any sort of intimidation factor would do. Unfortunately, Landon isn't really intimidating. But, the point is made to the crowd at least, who roar at the prospect of the successful title defence. Hawke stumbles over to him and Maddix ducks underneath a flailing arm, wrapping back on the waistlock. Again he can't get the German Suplex he's looking for though and Hawke breaks the hands apart, performs a standing switch AND GRABS A CHICKENWING!! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" "He's going for the Wing Span!" gasps King. "Hawke going back to what works best!" As soon as he feels the chickenwing sink in, Landon knows what's happening and throws himself forward, right into the ropes. Hawke frustratedly releases the hold... but as soon as he's broken to satisfy the referee's count, he drags Landon right out of the ropes and looks for the Wing Span again! "Landon is fighting it, he knows if Hawke can lock in the Wing Span it could be match over!" "Just like last week." "Well, last week Landon got to the ropes... and he gets to the ropes again this week!" Mak points out, as Landon grips onto the top rope before he can be pulled to the canvas by Hawke. Hawke refuses to relinquish the hold though, so Maddix wraps his arm right the way around the rope just to be sure, Megan screaming for the referee to get Hawke off of her man! Using his ploy from earlier, Jay breaks and then looks to re-apply the hold again... ...but Landon lands with a back elbow! Placing his left foot on the middle rope, Landon then reaches back and hooks the leg, pushing off the rope... ...AND HITTING THE SEATED SHIRANUI!! "The best thing since sliced bread! And for the World Champion, it certainly was!" "What the hell does that mean!?" "Well, it... uh... well..." Hawke' head bounces off the mat as Maddix reaches out and pulls the legs up into a pinning predicament... ONE! TWO! KICKOUT!!! "OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" Trying to keep the pressure on, Landon limps back to his feet and stops, tilts his head... and realises Hawke ring positioning. "He wouldn't be that stupid, surely? Not with a bad le..." With a smile, Maddix exits and begins to climb towards the top rope! "...nevermind. Of course he would be." The crowd rise up as Maddix slowly, gingerly scales the turnbuckles. Too slowly and too gingerly as it turns out, as Hawke recovers with plenty of time to spare, reaches up and flips Maddix off the top rope, down into the mat with a slam!! Maddix groans and clutches his ribs... ...while Hawke says to hell with it and begins to climb to the top rope himself. "Now, this is totally deviating from the gameplan, surely?" says Mak in confusion. "Hawke, going up top, taking a big risk here which is totally against his usual tactics! This might be a big mistake!" "Well, it's a big match, he needs a big move to end it." shrugs King. "Either that, or the big match has gotten to Hawke and he's letting frustration get the better of him here." "Nah." Hawke reaches the top and sets his feet underneath him. He doesn't look too uncomfortable up top and certainly doesn't seem to be having any second thoughts, as he stands tall on the top rope, measuring the distance to the World Champion before leaping off... *WHAM!* "YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!" ...and MISSING THE DIVING HEADBUTT!! "It was a big mistake! The Hawke swoops and comes up empty-handed!" Hawke bounces hard off the mat and lies looking up at the lights, hand clutched to his neck. But Maddix bunches Hawke back over onto his front and APPLIES THE LAND OF NOD!! "YYYYEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" "WOAH! From out of nowhere, Maddix has him trapped!! The Land Of Nod is locked in!" Hawke tries to shake his head loose of the inverted facelock, but Maddix gets it in and suddenly, Hawke is the one howling in agony! The crowd erupt as Hawke starts to panic in the hold, his back to the ropes as Maddix wrenches back on the head! "TAP!" "TAP!" "TAP!" "TAP!" "TAP!" Hawke tries to hold out, as Maddix meanwhile tightens his grip, Hawke's neck being twisted like a bottlecap as he tries to fight against the hold... ...BUT HAWKE TAPS OUT!!! *DINGDINGDING!* "YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" "HE GOT HIM! This one is over and Landon Maddix has retained his title! A real, hard-fought battle!" "*cries*" "Well said King." Maddix releases the hold and instantly tends to his knee, as Robinson raises an arm in Maddix's victory. "Your winner of the match...and STILL the SWF World Heavyweight Champion... LLLAAAAAAANNDDOOOOONN "LA CUCARACHA" MMMAAAAAAADDIIIIIIXXXXXXXX!!!" "YYYYYEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!" The crowd go wild, as Maddix gingerly pulls himself up, smiling through the pain. Cheers fill the air as Maddix is passed his World Title, rolling out of the ring and limping over to celebrate with his female fans in the front row again. And Megan, of course, who collars him before he can get to the young ladies, which is pretty much a win-win situation for Landon. As Hawke clutches his neck and watches in despair as the World Title escapes him yet again, Maddix looks on and smiles again, limping off up the rampway with his belt hanging over his shoulder triumphantly. And with a nod of the head, he looks into the nearest camera and winks. "Nice try Tom. Nice try. Ow... Megan, get me some ice, I think I've pulled a tendo..." FADE TO BLACK.

“I want to see Flesher.” “I’m sorry Mr. Drake, but Mr. Flesher is busy right no-” “BULLSHIT!” Tom Flesher, Commissioner and current stand-in CEO of the SWF, sighs and puts his pen down as he hears the exchange in his outer office. Sure enough, two seconds later the handle turns and his door slams open, admitting the form of ‘The Beast’ Gabriel Drake. Drake opens his mouth- “I’ll expect you to pay for that,” Flesher says, nodding towards the slight dent in the wall where the door has hit. Drake, caught off-guard, turns around to look. “And close the damn door, were you born in a barn?” Tom adds. Drake glowers at him, and shuts the door. Perhaps slightly harder than necessary. “Thank you,” Flesher says once the rattling has died away. “Now, can I help you?” The expression on his face is carefully calculated to imply that no, he can’t, and he wouldn’t even if he could, but Drake didn’t spend four years in a Georgia jail to be put off by a cranky frown and some pre-emptive verbal strikes. So the big man grips the back of the seat in front of Flesher’s desk with both hands and glowers down at the man in charge. “I want Toxxic,” The Beast declares shortly. Flesher just looks at him for a couple of seconds. “It’s taken you since last week to decide that?” he asks, “and you want to talk to me about it now, right before a show, when I have all this paperwork to do? What was wrong with the weekend, for crying out loud?” “Why are you always doing paperwork before the shows?” Gabe retorts, “do you only do work on the nights we wrestle?” Both men stare at each other for a few seconds, equally unwilling to admit their time management problems, before Flesher sighs and reaches for his bourbon. “You want Toxxic. Anything else?” “No,” Drake says, shaking his head. “Fine, I’ll see to it,” Flesher tells him, taking a sip. “Try not to damage the wall on your way out.” He looks up at Gabe again. “Was there something else? Only you seem to still be here.” “Just like that?” Drake asks softly, “no, I don’t think so. I’ve been here long enough to know that I don’t trust you, Flesher. I certainly don’t trust you to give me what I want when I want it. I want to know what you’re up to.” “Drake, drop it,” the Superior One snaps. “I’ve been in this company with people like Silent, Janus, the Hville Thug… they were psychopaths. In comparison, you’re just an ex-con with an anger management problem, and you most certainly do not intimidate me. However, to address your concerns,” he continues, “I have no problem with putting you in the ring with Toxxic again and allowing you to tear chunks off each other. I can’t work out whether the fans will shit on it because they hate both of you, or be wildly into it because no matter who wins, someone they hate loses, but either way I’ve got nothing better for you to do at 13th Hour so I’ll throw it together in the hope we get something approaching a decent buyrate from it.” He takes another sip of bourbon and looks back up at Drake. “Besides, maybe this will guarantee you actually show up for a change.” The Beast looks like he’s about to respond, but then voices are heard in the outer office. “Alright, is Flesher in?” “I’m sorry Mr. Stephens, but Mr. Flesher is busy right no-” “Yeah bollocks, stupid sod’s probably just getting a blowjob from Allison. Don’t get up love, I know the way.” The door opens again - not quite as explosively this time - and a familiar figure steps around it. Toxxic sidles into the office and nudges the door shut behind him with one foot, then grins lopsidedly at the two men. “Well well, I stand corrected,” he says. “Allison on holiday, is she?” “Toxxic, just the person I wanted to see,” Flesher says, lying with practised ease (more to rub Drake the wrong way than to spare the Englishman’s feelings), “Gabriel was just telling me how much he wanted a match with you and-how-he-understands-that-assaulting-you-in-my-office-will-result-in-a-disciplinary,” the Superior One finishes at a slightly faster pace, catching Drake’s eye. The Beast, who had started to step towards the straight-edger, halts and gives Flesher the dirtiest of looks. “Well now, that’s nice,” Toxxic nods, “you see Tom, I was just on my way to talk to you about the very same thing, seeing as how it appeared that our friend Gabriel didn’t seem to have the balls to make the suggestion himself. Maybe you’ve been cleaning them a bit hard since last week,” the Englishman continues, winking at his former friend, “worn them down too much, perhaps?” “Toxxic, don’t taunt the convicted killer,” Flesher says in a bored tone, “it’s not big and it’s not clever.” He glances at the Straight-Edge Sensation. “So, you’re willing to agree to this without me having to threaten, blackmail or bribe you? Astonishing.” “Go ahead and book it,” Toxxic replies cheerily, “the only thing I want to work out is what sort of match we’ll be having.” “If you were thinking of suggesting a Ladder match, how about I save you some time and introduce your face to the wall now?” Drake asks levelly, and is rewarded with seeing the grin slip from Toxxic’s face slightly. “Far from it,” the Englishman tells him. “Actually, I thought we’d go into our past a little bit.” “What, you mean straight singles, like when I beat you in December?” Drake suggests. “Or possibly the Elimination Chamber, where you get a few other people to do your dirty work for y-” “British Rules,” Toxxic tells him. Drake blinks. “British…?” “Oh come on, surely you remember Dave talking about the good old days of British wrestling, back when we were in Atlanta?” Toxxic asks. “The rules he used to compete in, the rules I grew up watching on dear old World of Sport?” He turns to Flesher. “Two falls, pinfall or submission, to decide the winner, OR one knockout. Think of it as a two-out-of-three falls match, with an overriding Last Man Standing stip.” He looks over at Drake and cocks an eyebrow. “Whaddya say, sunshine? You in?” “You want to be taken down in two straight falls, you be my guest,” Drake snorts. “Show me the contract and I’ll sign it. Until then,” he adds, pushing past Toxxic, “I’m going to leave Mister Flesher’s office. I’ll see you around.” The door slams shut behind him, leaving Toxxic looking at it. “That disciplinary thing only applied in your office, didn’t it?” he asks. Flesher nods. “Figures he was in a hurry to leave,” the straight-edger sighs. “Ah well. Such is life. If it’s not seven-foot psychopaths it’s people who should be advertising rum and secret agents on the longest leave from active duty I’ve ever heard of, and if it’s not them it’s murderous ex-convicts.” “What exactly did you do to him last week?” Flesher asks, mildly curious. Toxxic shrugs. “I put Icy/Hot in his tights,” he says. “Not massively original I know, but it seemed funny at the time.” “And the tricking him into running into an ambush of maple syrup solution?” Flesher asks, who has his contacts among the SWF staff. “Well, I needed to get him out of the way somehow,” the Englishman explains. “I mean, it’s not like I could just waltz in and smear muscle treatment cream into his wrestling gear while he was there. Oh, before I forget,” he continues, reaching into his pocket, “something for the SWF website. We just had the film developed.” Tom looks down at a photo clearly showing Gabriel Drake, looking confused, clutching a girl’s skinny fit baby pink T-shirt bearing the words “I LOVE JAKEY” in purple glittery writing. “That’s… one of the most alarming things I’ve ever seen,” Flesher admits. “It’s a work of pure genius,” Toxxic tells him, “Jakey’s a photographer like no other.” He clasps his hands and taps his black-nailed fingers together thoughtfully, then turns to face Flesher fully. “Now then,” the Englishman says, “seeing as how I beat Danny at From The Fire, and I beat Jimmy a couple of weeks ago, and me and Sly beat Rickmen and JRR last week, once I beat Gabe at 13th Hour do you think you might see your way to maybe, possibly, somehow in some way before the ice caps melt, the seas rise and we all have to grow gills, giving me a shot at my old buddy Landon and that little ornament he’s carrying around…?”