Ace309

“Welcome back to Lockdown, folks. Longdogger Pete and the Suicide King—bringing the best this bid’ness has to offer—” “For the uninformed, I, get top billing around this joint. That should be the Suicide King, the best this business has to offer, at everything and Lackluster Pete.” “Sure.” Pete responds, letting the brashness of King go unchecked for now. “Anyway, we’re at the top of the hour and damned if the Verizon Wireless Arena hasn’t seen some great action. Sacred and our SWF World Heavyweight and Intercontinental Television Double Champion, Landon Maddix had one hell of a match.” “And we bore witness to the beginnings of Martial Law in the SWF—how cheese is that by the way—going up against Max King’s much better named Royal Order. And with all these factions springing up, anarchy could ensue…” ”Which is a very good lead-in to our next topic.” notes the Longdogger. “With this being our first show back, and my first show in the booth, it’s hard to speculate about the up coming—er—pay-per-view…” Pete pauses, as if unsure about what he can and can’t say, but King is never one to stutter. “Clusterf*ck. That’s what you wanted to say, right? Scared you’re going to lose your job already. It’s not like they’re going to shutdown the show, just because you say the word Clusterf*ck!” And then… …darkness. “Uh, what the hell?” murmurs the Suicide King. Jokingly, he lifts his hands into the air, with raised eyebrows. “Let there be light?” The lights stay out. And a low, gentle hum echoes. “…that’s not even funny.” deadpans King, as even the Smarktron has gone blank, causing some in the crowd to make ghost noises. “Do you know what’s going on—” “I was just going to ask you…” Pete starts to think on it. Maybe this crowd has the right idea. “Could it be…Ghost?” “That was Alan Clark.” “No, I mean the OTHER, Ghost.” Nothing but the low, gentle hum, comes forth, stopping the thoughts of Ghost in its’ tracks. He would come out to the Boulevards music anyway, reasons Pete. “Folks, we’re—well, heh, we’re completely in the dark here, as well.” says Pete. To his right, King still seems to be confused, shuffling through papers in front of him and finally giving up. “King, do you know what’s going on? “Does it look like I know what’s going on, Pete?” It’s quiet, for only a minute. The lights flash to life, suddenly and brilliantly. If only for a second. Another flash, and then another. Followed by more at a quickening pace, bathes the crowd in a strobe-like fashion, similar to fleeting daylight in a cave of darkness. “Folks, I don’t have a clue what’s going on, but…” You can feel the pulsation of the light dings, as each noise gets louder and louder. Pulling; drawing you in to the melody. The strobes continue, now building to a break neck pace. The fans sit on their hands in quiet anticipation. Something is going down. …It’s been awhile. Like a wispy thread in the wind of something long forgotten, the noise builds. …And while you may not quite remember it now. “Hey, wait a minute--” …It has happened before. King looks around and then focuses on the stage. Clearly he knows what is happening now, as the sound takes shape. …But you’ll never forget. “King, is that…” When you saw it happened… Again. “SO DO YOU WANNA BE A FRANCHISE!” “Holy hell! It’s MAK FRANCIS!” “AND LIVE LARGE!” YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! “A BIG HOUSE—FIVE CARS—THE RENT CHARGE…” The SmarkTron explodes to life with a blue and white photonegative image of Mak Francis, which is followed by ‘The Franchise’ in large green lettering, flashing on the screen in time with the beat. “COMIN UP IN THE WORLD—DON’T TRUST NOBODY—GOTTA LOOK OVER YOUR SHOULDER CONSTANTLY!” As the opening lyrics from Rock Superstar by Cypress Hill, slightly altered of course, blare over the PA system, the crowd continues its’ untamed frenzy of cheers!! It takes a little while but eventually the self proclaimed franchise makes his way through the curtain. The lights come back up and Francis comes out onto the stage, tilting his ice blue Oakley’s down on the bridge of his nose, before looking left and then right… “I remember the days, when I was a young kid grownin’ up—lookin’ in the mirror dreamin’ about blowin’ up!” That cues multiple short bursts of green pyrotechnics erupting from either side of him. He readjusts his shades with a smirk, before slowly strolling down to ringside. The Franchise is as casual as they come, rocking a white shirt and faded blue jeans, with white basketball sneaks. He nods his head, taking in the cheers, making it to and up the ring steps. “After what—a year on the shelf, the Franchise has made a return to the SWF!” Mak struts to the middle of the apron, cockily wipes his feet and after giving a salute to the crowd, steps inside, entering through the middle ropes. Francis climbs the nearest turnbuckle and poses with both fists raised in the air. A tsunami of flashes escape from fans cameras, getting there first glimpse of the Franchise in a year!! “Hey, wait just a goddamn minute!” shouts King. “He wasn’t scheduled for this time! He can’t just crash the show! How the hell did he even get pyro! I didn’t give him this slot!” “Clearly, he has friends in high places.” “Hey, it doesn’t get any higher than me, Pete.” says King, with a scowl. “But he’s out here, so I might as well let him speak. He was yakking my goddamn ear off at Slay Ride in the luxury suite. Maybe if he talks enough, these fans will get annoyed too.” Mak hops down from the corner and beckons a ring attendant forward, accepting the microphone. Francis turns and walks to center ring, bringing the mic to his lips… FRAN—CHISE! FRAN—CHISE! FRAN—CHISE! FRAN—CHISE! FRAN—CHISE! FRAN—CHISE! Mak stops and laughs a little, then goes to speak again. FRAN—CHISE! FRAN—CHISE! FRAN—CHISE! FRAN—CHISE! FRAN—CHISE! FRAN—CHISE! “Uh, I sincerely doubt that King.” Finally, the crowd dies down, as Francis paces about the squared circle he hasn’t been in for an entire year, then leans on the ropes, maxing and relaxing for a second. The Franchise nods his head and speaks… “Now, I have three reasons why I’m out here, so let me get right to it. It’s great to be back in the SWF and in Manchester, New Hampshire!” the crowd pops and King sighs in disgust at the cheap pop. “As a few of you may or may not know, I was put out of commission by the the Hville Thugg, just over a year ago, at the last SWF Christmas pay-per-view.” BOOOOOO! “Yeah, I know. I’d ‘Boo’ him too. Thugg sucks di—er, he’s not a nice guy.” amends Francis, with a smile. “I’d have liked to do a lot more to him than boo him, but hey, when a guy nearly beats you into an early retirement, there’s not much you can do.” Mak shrugs at the ass-kicking Thugg delivered upon him. “But that’s not what I’m here to say… at Slay Ride, someone just kept chatting in my ear… see there’s this next generation that I’ve been hearing about. And apparently, they’re the next big thing in the Smarks Wrestling Federation. Now, no disrespect to the new World Champ or the ass with the British accent, but I’m here to say, while they will be something special… someday soon… I’m the only Franchise this company has at the moment!” FRAN—CHISE! FRAN—CHISE! FRAN—CHISE! FRAN—CHISE! FRAN—CHISE! FRAN—CHISE! “So, I’m back. And I ran into someone at Slay Ride with whom I have a score to settle. But Sacred,” Mak nearly spits out the name, “I told you after the pay-per-view that I’d be seeing you. You beat me at the grandest stage of them all, Genesis 4, when I tried my damnedest to prove you wrong.” A pause. “You and I, Sacred, we have unfinished business, because you’re one of the main reasons I haven’t gotten a single, solitary, World Title shot in my entire career.” Mak stares into the hard camera, yanking his shades off his face. “My star was on the rise—longest reigning ICTV champ at the time, until I ran into you. I believed in something special and you crushed that, so like it or not, I’ve come back to get my rightful spot in the Main Event, off of your back! And there isn’t one goddamn thing you can do or say to stop me!” FRAN—CHISE! FRAN—CHISE! FRAN—CHISE! FRAN—CHISE! FRAN—CHISE! FRAN—CHISE! “Which brings me to the final reason I’m out here, folks.” Francis paces about the ring and stops, leaning against the ropes. “A lot of people, they talk the talk about winning a World title, but when I get my shot, I’m only going to need one. Old Generation. Next Generation. You can all bring it. Cause I’m putting myself in the 2005 Clusterf*ck—and while I don’t believe in fate, I’m pretty damn sure that I will be walking out of there with a title shot at From the Fire!” YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! “And if anyone thinks they can beat me, now that I’m back after a year off. I’ll prove them all wrong, again. One at a time if need be.” Mak drops the mic and rolls out of the ring as “Rock Superstar” kicks to life in the background. No posing is necessary, as Mak strides to the back, with his ice blue Oakley’s on and a smirk across his lips. “Strong words from the returning Franchise, King.” “I’d say so.” adds King. “He hasn’t even been in a ring for one year and he’s already talking out his ass.” And SWF Lockdown goes to commercial break.

“We’ve had a crazy night so far, and I’m so glad to be back!” the voice of Longdogger Pete welcomes viewers back from their commercial break, and those just tuning in are greeted by two faces they never thought they’d see again. Pete, and the Suicide King – The Gambling Man looking dapper as ever. “Oh yes, whoopidy doo…” King’s sarcasm comes out as he twirls his finger in the air. “And look at this piece coming to the ring…” his distraction is caused by none other than the SWF Women’s Champion herself, Kelly Connelly, who appears from behind the curtain and heads to the ring, microphone at the ready. “Hello booooys!” she calls out, drawing numerous boos from the sold-out crowd, “are you ready to meet two of the best wrestlers in the SWF today?” “But I’m right here…” comes the Suicide King, but Kelly ignores him. “Let me introduce to you…” BOOOOM! The opening notes of Saliva’s “Superstar” explode from pillar to pillar inside the arena, drawing an even louder chorus of jeers as Max King and Domonic Korgath step through the curtain. “On the right is the Monster, the Myth…the Demonic Knight himself…DOOOOOMINIC KOOOORGAAAAATH!” “Wooo…she’s got some pipes!” Pete calls… “and to the left…prepare to feel thrills every woman wishes for but only I may have…he is the Wrestling Superman and MY Icon…..MAAAAAX KIIIING…” The two men begin to make their way toward the ring, ignoring the crowd around them… “They are…THE ROYAL OOOOOORDER!” “The Royal Order…King, Queen, and Knight. Quite frankly I hate seeing anyone with the name King running around in my ring like that, so dirty and unclean.” “Well you did always leave quite the odor in th-“ “Shut Up!” King snaps, just as King and Korgath hit the ring, the duo sliding under the bottom rope and standing quickly, posing with their femme fatale as she smiles and rubs her Women’s Championship. Funyon huffs on the outside as Kelly exits the ring and takes her usual spot on outside, the music fading out. Pete is the first to speak. “These two have only recently started teaming, but they are looking very cohesive in there tonight. Let’s see how they do against…” The Doggah is suddenly cut off as the arena lights cut to darkness and the opening strains of Stabbing Westward’s “Save Yourself” blare from every corner of the building. A lone spotlight shines down onto the top of the ramp, and through the faint glow two figures can be seen, side by side. ”Introducing their opponents…hailing from Hollywood Boulevard with a combined weight of four hundred and fifty six pounds…they are Alan Clark and your S-W-F HARDCORE GAMER’S CHAMPION “The Urban Legend” Todd Cortez……MARTIAAAAAL LAAAAAAW!” “RAAAAAAAAAAH!” The fans roar in approval as Todd and Alan’s eyes gaze into the ring, both of them smirking as they wave behind him, calling out a third figure through the darkness. “Who is that? What is going on…” King asks as he tries to see into the shadow, but the figure makes herself known… “It’s MEGAN SKYE!!” Pete exclaims as the Toddess herself stands between the two men, the image of the trio sending shivers of disgust and anger through the Royal Order in the ring before they start their walk. “It looks like Megan Skye is ready to fight and…how you say…take care of some bid’ness!” “Oh really? Does she want to work overtime, too?” King chuckles a little to himself as referee Sexton Hardcastle hits the ring, calling Korgath and King back as Martial Law enters the ring, each climbing a set of ring stairs and stepping through the ropes, the solidarity and near synchronization keeping King on his toes, as he heads to his corner and begins talking with Kelly and motioning across the ring. Korgath stays in his place, his eyes moving back and forth between the two men as the lights return to their normal radiance and Alan chooses to exit the ring, leaving Cortez to face off against the monster Korgath as Hardcastle calls for the opening bell… Ding! Ding! Ding! Cortez inches closer to his imposing foe, as Korgath stands in wait. The Urban Legend warily approaches, giving up a size and weight advantage to King's favorite monster. Korgath prepares for his oncoming foe, raising his arms and goading him into a lockup...only to have Cortez swat his hands away and shove him! "Pete, can you explain to me what in the blue hell he's doing?" "I wish I could, but damned if I know myself!" Korgath doesn't budge, and just tilts his head in surprise at Cortez's overflowing confidence. As he remains firm, Cortez shoves him again, then backs away, trying to goad him closer, but again Korgath won't move. As Cortez moves in a third time, Korgath grabs him by the head, wrapping his hand over his face a la an iron claw, and shoves the young superstar down hard! "Good, serves him right!" Cortez gets up on one knee, and looks over at Clark, who simply shrugs over the situation. King cheers from his corner, ordreing Korgath to "kill him"...however before the big man can react to the command, Cortez pops up and races towards him, stunning him with forearms! Korgath flinches, absorbing each blow, but the rapid fire delivery of the shots are enough to stagger him. Cortez backs up a few steps and leaps up, trying to dropkick the big man, but has it swatted away. As Cortez stands up from his crash landing, Korgath grabs him, clubbing him over the back with a pair of thunderous forearms, then backs Cortez into the ropes, sending him across the ring to the far side. Cortez is caught on the rebound and hiptossed over by the Demonic One, but manages to land on his feet! His agility draws a great response from the SWF fans, and Cortez turns back to Korgath and smirks before charging again! Cortez ducks a lariat, running full speed ahead to the ropes and bouncing off, connecting with a high spinning wheel kick that takes Korgath off his game and off his feet! Clark and Megan applaud from over in the Martial Law corner, while King and Kelly watch in shock. Korgath easily begins to get up, but Cortez positions himself behind him and connects with a roundhouse kick to the base of his spine! Korgath cringes upon impact, and again when a second kick, this one to the back of the knee, connects. Before Cortez can get off a third kick, Korgath fires back an elbow out of desperation, knocking Cortez off balance and into the corner. Stunned but not downed, Cortez quickly props himself up on the second rope and leaps off with a bodypress, however he lands in the waiting arms of Korgath! "No good can come of this Petey!" The fans gasp as Cortez is caught in his enemies arms, and promptly hurled over Korgath's head, tossed away with a fallaway slam! Cortez rolls across the mat, getting up on a knee just in time to see his imposing opponent moving towards him. Knowing he has a distinct speed advantage, Cortez somersaults out of Korgath's path, coming to his feet in his own corner and tagging in Alan Clark! Clark quickly climbs up to the top turnbuckle and leaps into the ring, diving at Korgath with a flying bodypress...but is caught much like Cortez was ear...CORTEZ COMES OFF THE MIDDLE ROPE WITH A DROPKICK, PUTTING KORGATH IN A PINNING PREDICAMENT! ONE! KICKOUT! Korgath easily shoves Clark up off of him, and sits up, eyeing Cortez as he exits the ring. Clark recovers quickly and jumps up on Korgath's back as he's getting up, hammering him with some wild shots before Korgath has enough and snapmares him over. A bewildered Clark shakes the cobwebs loose and gets up, but finds himself pulled into a front facelock and snapped over with a suplex by the mighty Demon. Korgath gets to his feet first and helps Clark up the hard way by dragging him to his feet by the hair and driving a pair of knees into his ribcage before shoving him backwards into the corner. Korgath then tags in an eager Max King, who is all too ready to pick up where Korgath has left off. "First time we've seen King in this contest..." "THAT is your input? Mastering the obvious? Pete, Pete, Pete, this tenure together is not going to go by slowly for me, is it?" King comes in, and with Clark held in the corner by Korgath, is able to drive a boot into his foe's midsection. King pulls Clark out of the corner and scoops him up for a side slam, but Clark floats over and lands on his feet, then carries a stunned King over with a quick arm drag! King quickly dusts himself off and darts for Clark, but then has a meeting with the mat, as Clark drops him facefirst with a drop toehold! Clark then slides over King and comes to his head, pulling him up while in a front facelock and lifting him up, dropping his legs across the top rope and using them to bounce King over with a suplex! "Old school Slingshot suplex by Clark has King reeling wayward style!!" King sits up, but with the urging of Cortez, the former "Ghost" sneaks up behind him and snaps him over with a Russian Legsweep, then rolls through to his feet and makes the tag to Cortez, who springboards off the top rope and over Clark's head, landing with a legdrop across the throat of Max King! "Crisp and smooth, the way tag team wrestling was meant to be!" Clark, still in the ring, then hops over King's body and runs the ropes, as Cortez gets up and tucks his head, elevating Clark on the rebound, and having him land with a senton splash across King! "That's some old school Boulevard goodness right there! Cortez and Clark are becoming quite the team!" "Well of course they are, thanks to that whole man behind the mask debacle. Sneaky bastards the both of them, and yet these people roar like their favorite team won the Super Bowl every time they come out. Then again, our fans have never been the smartest bunch." "You realize if the ratings drop, it's your fault, right?" Clark gets up from his senton delivery, nodding to his partner as Cortez moves down for the pin. ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! "Good man, live up to that King name!" Kelly pounds on the apron, shouting encouragement to her beau, while the monster Korgath looks on from the apron. Cortez pulls King up, but Max grabs him by the waist and swings behind him, then carries him to the canvas with a waistlock takedown! Cortez pushes himself up, but King wraps an arm around his head, hooking an inverted facelock, which is usually the precursor to The Compressor! "King could be going for a tap out here!" King wrenches Cortez's head, but can't follow through any further, as the Urban Legend pushes up, then spins his body to face King, and carries him over with a Northern Lights Suplex! ONE! TW-KING BRIDGES OUT! Max swings around so that he can position Cortez in a standing headscissors...only Cortez breaks it up by scooping The Icon up off his feet and planting him on the top rope! Cortez climbs up after King, but Max fires off a couple of punches to stagger the current Hardcore Champion, then finally shoves him off the top rope. Cortez lands with a thud, and as he recovers King pushes up onto his feet while still on the ropes, and leaps over Todd's back, rolling him up with a sunset flip from the top! ONE! TW-CORTEZ ROLLS THROUGH! SOCCER KI-NO! CAUGHT! DRAGON SCREW BY KING TAKES HIM DOWN! “These two are just throwing everything they can at each other!” comes the call from LDP as King keeps his arm locked around Todd’s thigh and begins to wrench on it, pulling it back and down and lifting the Urban Legend off his shoulders and nearly onto his head as he fights the pain firing through his body. WHAM! King is suddenly thrown, or kicked, forward as Alan Clark comes rushing in from the apron and attacks with a dropkick, freeing his partner from the submission hold. Hardcastle is on him immediately, yelling as he shows him back to his place in the corner. Behind both of them, King sees his chance, dragging the hurting Cortez across the ring to the waiting monster, who seems quite pleased with the catch. “Clark made a big mistake there and Max King capitalized on it. Todd Cortez is about to pay the price.” The referee turns around just in time to see the slap of the hands, and Alan can only watch on as Megan’s smile turns to a scowl for the mistake. Clark simply shrugs and grabs at his tag rope as Korgath enters the ring and pulls Cortez up to his feet. Todd hobbles in place as Korgath pauses to think of what way he can punish his prey, and after a second Cortez finds himself in the air once more, his hurting right leg bent up underneath him as he feels his body fall to the canvas… CRACK! “KNEEBREAKER!! Did you hear that sound! Like Chris Raynor’s nose during a blind date!” Pete hollers as Cortez’s body drops forward, his instincts placing his hands around his hurting knee as Korgath stands tall above him, a crooked smile appearing on his face. “Cortez may be a high-flyer most days, Pete, but when this one is over he might be a high-roller after these guys stick him in a wheelchair.” King adds as Cortez begins the long crawl over ten feet across to his anxious partner, but Korgath has him again by the head, dragging him up and wrapping his hand around his throat. Clark can see King over the Demon’s shoulder, a broad smile and a thumbs up. Korgath wastes no time in lifting Cortez as high into the air as he can. THUUUD! “CHOKESLAM!” SMACK! “YEAHHHH!!” “Did you see that! Todd Cortez takes a horrific chokeslam, only for Dominic Korgath’s head to nearly be ripped off by a superkick from Alan Clark!” Pete exclaims, but neither member of Royal Order seems worried, especially big Dominic Korgath, his head cocked to the side as he stares at Alan, stunned that his kick had about as much affect on the big man as a Nikes to Icarus. “Uh Oh. Alan Clark may have just angered the Demonic Knight…” With Cortez planted on his back, Korgath lumbers over him and extends his arm, a fist at the end of it connecting with Alan’s jaw. The shot pushes Clark back, and before he knows it he finds himself being tossed across the ring and into the ropes. As Korgath moves to the opposite side to get a good running start, King slaps at his back and rushes into the ring… CRAAAACK! “YAKUZAAAAH!” Both announcers yell as one as Alan’s body reacts like lightning struck it, falling to the canvas in a heap. Hardcastle tries to remove the downed Clark out of the ring, but before he can he notices King lying atop Todd Cortez…looking for the pin! ONE! TWO! TH—NOOOOOO!!! “AND CORTEZ KICKS OUT AND BARELY!” “Alan Clark’s continued cheating ways saved his team from victory and you know it, Pete! There is no doubt in my mind that Korgath was going for the cover after that vicious chokeslam!” “He was only looking out for his partner!” Pete responds… “Whatever!” …as Cortez rolls to his stomach and tries crawling toward his corner once more, only to find Alan face-down with Megan next to him, trying to wake him. Cortez’s demeanor changes from hope to gloom as he rolls back onto his back and faces up at Max King, who stands looking cocky as ever at the downed Urban Legend. “Todd Cortez doesn’t even know that Alan Clark came into this match to help him!” Max almost begins chuckling to himself as he reaches down for Cortez, but Todd rolls onto his shoulders and fires his body up, quickly wrapping his thighs around King’s head and continuing the rotation from the kip-up, sending King flipping heels over head and nearly onto the top of his head! “I did not just see that! Pete, did that really just happen?” “Oh it did, King, Todd Cortez came off his back and rana’d the Icon right out of his boots!” Pete replies as Cortez quickly shifts his body weight and falls backwards, laying across King and hooking his legs as well as he can from the precarious position… ONE! KICKOUT!! Max’s instincts help him out before the two count, and Cortez falls forward once more and tries to get to his feet. All seems to be going well as he reaches the top rope, using them as a ladder to pull his body up, but as he steps away from side of the ring his hands shoot to his knee and he begins to wobble… …straight into a drop toe-hold! Cortez hits the canvas hard face-first, but his struggle to get to his corner is not put to a stop so easily, even with Clark barely up to his feet on the apron. King seems amused by Cortez’s insistence, but a quick kick to the side of the head puts Todd back down and King in control, as the Icon puts his knee across the Urban Legend’s chest. “COUNT! NOW!” he yells toward Hardcastle, who obliges, counting Cortez’s shoulders down as King kneels over him. One! King stares toward Clark and their eyes catch, and he tries to enter the ring. Two! KICKOUT!! Cortez kicks out just before the three and Hardcastle hops to his feet, once again calling for Clark to exit the ring. King uses the Martial distraction to his advantage once more as he pulls Cortez back across the ring to the Royal corner, where Korgath lays in wait…but Alan Clark has had enough. “ALAN CLARK IS LOOSE!!” Pete screams as Clark shoots around the referee and flies across the ring, diving over top of Max King and straight onto Korgath, catching him with a hard forearm. The sudden shot puts the Demon down to the floor, but still on his feet Sexton tries to regain order but Clark ignores his calls, clutching his hands around King’s throat. Their eyes meet once more, and King’s grow wide as he sees the rage in his opponent. The Icon can barely let out a squeak before he finds himself being lifted into the air and over top of Alan’s head in a press position. Alan screams and tries to toss King away, but Max flips out and lands perfectly on his feet, only to turn around… SMACK! “ONE HIT KILL!! MAX KING COULD BE KNOCKED OUT!!” King calls as Alan gets to his feet and turns to find a raging referee in his face and Korgath back on the apron. Another quick move puts the referee behind Clark’s back as Alan passes him by and throws a low dropkick, catching the Demon in the right knee cap. The big man falls to the floor again and once more lands on his feet, but Clark is back up… WAAAAAAAAAAH!!! THUD! …screaming and diving over the top rope with reckless abandon, falling toward the monster and crashing into him, the dive putting both men down onto the floor! “THE DEMON HAS FALLEN!!” Hardcastle turns back to the ring to find Todd Cortez laying across the chest of Max King!!! ONE! TW-WAITASECOND!! “NO!” Pete calls from the announce table as Kelly reaches into the ring and clutches at Cortez’s leg, pulling him to the outside. Megan heads around the ring in a blonde fury as Jet catches Todd off guard with a hard clothesline, but as the Queen looks up she finds the Toddess flying off the ring steps and right on top of her!! “BIG SPLASH FROM MEGAN SKYE!! THIS HAS JUST EXPLODED ALL OVER THE RING!!” “Eewww…Pete! Save that shit for when Tom Flesher comes back or something!” King exclaims as Megan and Kelly bounce off the floor. Megan stands back to her feet, quite happy, only to find herself standing in the shadow of the Big Demon, Alan Clark’s downed body behind him! “What happened!!” Pete begins his questioning as the replay screen pops up, showing Alan Clark taking the ring post to the chest just as the two men get back to their feet after the dive. “Korgath is all alone with Megan Skye and he is NOT pleased in the least!” Korgath can almost be seen laughing to himself as his hand shoots out and grabs Megan around the throat… “NO! NO! HE CAN’T DO THAT!!” Ching!! “Nope. Now he can’t.” King responds as Megan’s foot makes a deposit in Korgath’s nether regions, releasing her from his grip just as Clark gets back to his feet and reaches around the Demon’s waist. “Come on!” Alan yells toward Megan as Max and Cortez get back to their feet in the ring at almost the exact same second. Unknowing of the carnage on the outside they both attack each other, Cortez throwing a stiff kick into King’s ribs, only for the Icon to fire back with a closed fist. It is only the sound of Korgath’s body striking the floor that catches their attention, as both Alan and Megan lift the Royal Order member off his feet and over their shoulders for a giant double back suplex! “Sexton Hardcastle has lost all control of this match!” Pete calls as Hardcastle, King, and Cortez all look on from in the ring at the downed Korgath and Kelly. King snaps, turning his attention toward the Urban Legend and catching the back of his head with a stiff forearm. Cortez stumbles and finally falls into his own corner, but Clark has not yet made it back to his rightful place. King continues the attack, pulling Todd back into the middle of the ring just as Alan gets up onto the apron, missing his chance to save his partner by a split second. His frustration shows as his fist slams against the top turnbuckle, leading to a snide smile from King as he pulls the hurting Cortez up and stands him straight before sending his foot into the back of Todd’s knee once more. “Another kick right to that knee…wait!” Cortez falls to his knees and King follows through, bringing his knee into Cortez’s back and then up, the Icon’s right foot seering through the air and almost decapitating the Urban Legend, his body falling to the canvas limply. “What a superiority complex that guy has…” Pete comments as Max King flexs in the center of the ring, only for Suicide King to be heard next to him… ”Tom Flesher is going to either sue him or beat him until he wets himself. Both are rather gruesome.” Max takes a break from his flexing and drops to the mat, rolling Cortez over and lazily falling into place for a pin… One! Two! Th—NO!! “His posing is hurting his team more than it is helping at any rate…” Pete calls as King wastes no time in dragging Cortez up and spinning him back around before sending another hard kick to his leg. Todd buckles and Max wraps his arms around the Urban Legend’s neck and prepares for a lift… “KING BUSTER!! Catchy name…” King remarks as Max tries for the lift, but Alan Clark is back in the ring once more, attacking with a double axe handle across King’s back, breaking the hold and putting Cortez back down on the canvas. King turns into his attacker but Clark sends a kick to his stomach… WHAAAM!! “SIMPLE FATE! SIMPLE FATE ON MAX KING!” Pete yells as Clark jumps to his feet to a chorus of cheers from the sold-out crowd, only for it to suddenly turn to boos as Alan finds himself face to face with the Demonic Knight, now standing before him. SMACK! SMACK! THUD! Alan Clark attacks, firing off punches with near no effect, only to suddenly explode, firing his body into Korgath’s with a huge clothesline, the momentum pushing them into the ropes and over to the floor!! “MY GOD! ALAN CLARK JUST TOOK KORGATH TO THE OUTSIDE!!” Korgath lands on his feet, but Clark is not so lucky as he falls to the floor onto his knees. The shots seemed to have little effect on the monster as he clutches at Alan, only to have Kelly in his face, holding up the Women’s championship and calling to use it on the face of Clark!! “What is she doing?!” Hardcastle tries to intervene but his eyes do it’s best to stay on the legal men in the ring, both of them still recovering as Clark is held back by Korgath and the Queen winds up with her title… CLANG!! “BAH GAWD, KING DID YOU SEE THAT!!” Pete screams as Megan Skye tries to save Clark from the Royal Order, only for Kelly to turn in mid-step and clock the Toddess in the face with the championship, putting her down and out on the outside! “If Landon saw that he’s going to be out here in seconds…mark my words…” King remarks as Kelly smiles and laughs a little as her attention goes back to Clark…and the wind-up begins once more… CLAAAANG!! “NOO!” SMACK!! The scream of Kelly Connelly is heard as Alan Clark ducks out of the way just before contact, leaving the Big Demon to take a few pounds of gold to the chin. Kelly backs away, yelling, only to catch the foot of Alan Clark square in the chest! “Kelly’s plan was foiled after Megan’s save gave Alan enough time to get his head back into the game!” “WAIT!” The arena buzzes as Hardcastle looks to the outside at the downed female superstars as Landon Maddix appears in the farground of the camera’s view, rushing to the ring like a shot… “IT’S THE WORLD CHAMPION!” …as Alan slips under the bottom rope and joins his partner in the ring as they surround the recovered Max King, who can barely get in a good breath for catching a pair of feet to both sides of his head. ”THE COLLISION COURSE!!” LDP yells out as Max staggers from the blow and Martial Law gets back to their feet, Cortez still staggering from his hurting right knee as Alan motions his hands and Cortez spins down toward the mat and Clark spins the opposite way and into the air, each of them sending their right leg into Max King, the shots sweeping him off his feet and knocking him in the mouth at nearly the same second!! “Max King could be OUT! “TOTAL REBELLLLLLION!!!” Pete’s voice nearly cracks as he hits one heck of a high note, watching on as Cortez crawls on top of Max King and Alan leads the arena in counting along… ”ONE!” “TWO!” “THREEEEEEEE!!” Ding! Ding! Ding! “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” “Ladies and Gentlemen, the winners of this bout by pinfall… “THE URBAN LEGEND” TODD CORTEZ AND ALAN CLARK……MARTIAAAAAAAAAAAL LAAAAAAW!!!” Funyon makes the match official as “Save Yourself” kicks up around the arena once more as Alan rolls Todd to the outside and towards Maddix and Megan, the World Champ holding her on her feet. ”What a match! The new-born…re-born…whatever team of Martial Law starts the new year off with a big bang here tonight by defeating the Royal Order after some wacky hijinks and one really big shot with the women’s championship!!” ”I’ve done better…by myself.” King responds as the four Law members make their way toward the entrance ramp and begin their walk to the back as Hardcastle checks on the recovering Royal Order members as they slowly get back to their feet. The sold-out crowd stands and a loud chant begins to echo as LDP tries to take Lockdown to commercial… “MAR-TIAL LAW! MAR-TIAL LAW! MAR-TIAL LAW!” The people approve of this alliance, but how will that sit with the other teams in the SWF, specifically the two fighting in our Main Event tonight! Revolution Zero takes on the Number One Contenders Wild & Dangerous in just a while, but first two veterans square off for the billionth time as “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins takes on Manson…NEXT! STAY TUNED, EVERYONE!”

As Wildchild continues stretching in preparation for their match, he hears his partner’s voice from around the corner: “Nic? I’m going to check with Hardy about our interview… Will you be ready when I get back?” “Oui,” replies Wildchild. He finishes his calisthenics and heads over to the sink with his bag. As he begins to apply his facepaint, he suddenly sees an unwelcome image standing behind him in the mirror. The Bahama Bomber turns around to find himself face-to-face with one-half of the Tag Team Champions… Toxxic. “What are you doin’ here?” demands Wildchild. “I came here to give you and your partner one last chance to avoid humiliation and pain, and withdraw from this match,” Toxxic grins, flashing his trademark lopsided smile at the Caribbean Cruiser. “The fact is, nothing you can do will properly prepare you for us because you haven’t faced anything like us before. With Sean you’ve got the power, the sort of strength that can break little guys like you and me in half, and with me you’ve got… well, just ask Johnny about me,” the Straight-Edge Sensation laughs. “Trust me sunshine, this combination is going to walk all over you.” Wildchild rolls his eyes. “You finished?” he asks, but Toxxic ignores him. “Nice tattoos,” the Brit comments, peering first at the rope mark on Wildchild’s throat, then moving around his opponent for tonight to take a look at the ink on the Human Hurricane’s back, “…so when did you decide to become Michael Craven?” Wildchild grinds his teeth, his eyes narrowed in anger as Toxxic continues his makeshift inspection: “-And what does this say?” he asks, prodding at the French writing beside the outline of the scar from Wildchild’s reconstructive surgery. “I don’t speak French, you see.” “It says ‘Never Forget, Never Forgive’,” the Tropical Tumbler snaps, wheeling around to slap the Brit’s hand away. “And you better remember dat!” “Now, I wonder what it might be that you’re not forgetting or forgiving,” Toxxic muses to himself, smiling as he strokes his chin because of course, he knows very well. “Let me see… Mike Van Siclen, perhaps?” Wildchild’s eyes flash with rage at the mention of his hated rival and Toxxic, pleased with the result, continues. “Now tell me Dub-Cee - when exactly were you planning on getting your revenge on Mike?” The Straight-Edge Sensation grins as Wildchild’s purse together tightly and his eyes narrow further, almost into slits, but he still resists the urge to respond. Toxxic continues, clearly enjoying the game of seeing how far he can push his challenger: “I mean, honestly, Wildchild,” asks the Brit, “Mike Van Siclen tried to cripple you… and what did you do? Waited around, played silly little games, then watched me retire him before you even got near him. Just as well you did though,” Toxxic continues, reaching out a hand to pat Wildchild’s cheek patronizingly, “because otherwise Mike might have broken the other one…” *smack* Wildchild slaps Toxxic’s hand away before the straight-edger can make contact and steps up aggressively, but after a couple of intense seconds the Tag Champion merely grins and shoulders his title belt. “Nice talking to you, Dub-Cee,” Toxxic tells the Caribbean Cruiserweight as he turns and walks off, “try not to get lost; I haven’t made you tap out since Battleground, and I’m looking forward to it!” At this point, Wildchild has become a five foot-ten inch bottle of emotion. Tears of impotent frustration begin to trickle down his cheek and he is visibly shaking with rage as he watches Toxxic round the corner of the locker room. Toxxic smiles to himself as he enters into the corridor, muttering, “Let’s see how you prepare for that, sunshine!” As we: FADE OUT

We come back from the break, Maddix waiting with a big smile on his face, watching the entrance way as Funyon yells into the mic, “Ladies and Gentleman, the following match in the SEVEN MINUTE CHALLENGE!” The fans all cheer, Maddix chants already breaking out, but Funyon clears his throat and continues, “Introducing first, from Huron, South Dakota. He weighs in at two hundred and twenty pounds and is YOUR WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION… he is of Martial Law, he is…. LLLLAAAANNNNDDDDOOOONNNNNN MMMMAAAAADDDDDIIIXXXXXX!” … While the atmosphere in the arena is joyous, and Maddix laps it up for all it’s worth, behind the curtain, waiting to make his appearance is the Sacred One. He hears the jubilant roar of the crowd and lowers his head wistfully, just not feeling up to the task any more… Appearing from the shadows is the former World Heavyweight Champion, reaching out and putting a hand on Sacred’s shoulder. The Australian perks up and quickly spins around, seeing Toxxic, a rye smile on his face. “Still alert… still driven…Bollocks, I know you still want it!” the Rev0 leader coolly remarks, grasping both hands firmly on Sacred’s shoulders. The Straight-Edge Sensation, although nine years his allies junior, looks upon Sacred almost like father figure, anything to get his point across. … “Now where is this pathetic convict!” pipes Comet, shaking his fist with gusto. “These fair citizens and I want to see justice served and served right now!” “Simmer down, freak! All good things come to those who wait, or steal, as is the case with our World Champion.” … As the renegade commentators bicker much to Pete and King’s confusion, Toxxic continues, “That miserable wannabe, that absolute dreck nabbed my gold,” Toxxic has to stop, a bitter taste filling his mouth, “but we’ll have the last laugh when you wreck that bloody twunt and that troll with the wizard’s sleeve he’s got with him.” Sacred stares at his stable leader, his motivational speech somewhat lost in translation, but his eyes tell the story, and Sacred nods. “Seven minutes is all it takes. Now get.” … Back out in the arena the crowd wait on tenterhooks. Maddix continues to warm up as he jogs on the spot, but even the wait gets to him. The wait soon comes to an end as the television screen begins to flutter, and the picture begins to warp and distort. Then, through the PA, comes a familiar voice. “There is nothing wrong with your television set…” “He’s here!” comes Riley’s jubilant cry. “I knew he wouldn’t let me down, not for a second.” “Do not attempt to adjust the picture…” “It matters not my flamboyant friend, as the Australian has to face insurmountable odds in what will be another great victory for justice!” “We will control the horizontal…” “Who let these jokers back on the air? This ain’t good for bid’ness!” Pete yells. “We will control the vertical…” “…We will control transmission…” The picture is suddenly returned to normal, but now the lights fade, proceeding Andrew Blackwell’s entrance from behind the curtain as Lycia’s “Tainted” begins to play its haunting tune. The spirited boos from the capacity crowd are head quite loudly quiet and ambient music, but Sacred puts it out of his mind, his strength and resolve increasing as he approaches the ring. He climbs up the ring steps slowly as Funyon gets on the mic, announcing to the viewing audience… “And… his opponent! Hailing from Adelaide, Australia, he weighs in at two hundred and sixteen pounds. Please welcome a FORMER World Heavyweight Champion and member of Revolution Zero… He is, SACRED!” “That’s right; Sacred’s a former World Champ himself. He’s done it all before. He’ll have no trouble putting this punk kid in his place.” Comet is clearly outraged, “That punk kid as you call him was victorious in the Cold Front Classic, defeating Sacred in the final in glorious battle, and smited Toxxic to pry the title away from the soiled hands of evil!” “Steady on, there’s no need to overact! Which, incidentally, is why your acting career failed miserably,” Riley gleefully points out, before scuffling can be heard over the air and Comet and Riley start yelling “FREEDOM!” as they’re dragged away kicking and screaming. “Anyway…” King says, trying to get things back on track as the camera’s focus in on he and Longdogger, “As Riley was alluding to, I think people are simply deluded, blinded by the image of seeing their favored son on top. Yes, he may be the World Champion, but he went through absolute HELL to get there, and would have to be feeling the effects of that. His overconfidence in his own abilities, his denial of his injuries and underestimating of his opponent will be his undoing.” With both men ready, Landon paces back and forth, playing to the crowd, while Sacred simply stands still, preparing himself mentally for what is to come. Kivell steps forward and nods to both men before pointing to ringside to start this match. *DING! DING! DING!* 7:00 … 6:59 … 6:58 … 6:57 While the time clock begins to count down, Maddix wastes no time launching an attack, darting forward leaping forearm, but Sacred almost grunts in amusement as he ducks to the side and avoids one of his own moves. Maddix spins back around with the grace of a Matador, except he’s the one on the charge, connecting with a Spinning Sobat Kick that doubles over the Australian. Maddix slips behind his opponent and pulls him down with a School Boy attempt, but Sacred pushes out almost immediately! The two men whirl back to their feet to meet each other, Maddix only momentarily surprised by the Aussie’s swift counter before he fires off a forearm smash that clocks Sacred in the jaw. Two more stiff forearms stun the Sacred One allowing Maddix to yank him by the arm and whip him into the ropes as Landon heads behind his opponent on his return, stopping him dead in his tracks, hooking his hands across Sacred’s face. The So-Dak moment is countered as Sacred spins out and heads behind Maddix, locking his biceps in place and strangling the World Champion with a Sleeper hold! Maddix charges forward before the move can be locked in to its fullest effect, sprinting to the corner and hopping up onto the second, then third turnbuckles, pushing himself off and crash landing on top of Sacred! The Australian has the wind knocked out of him as Maddix thumps into his chest then rolls back to his feet. Sacred is too slow in getting to his feet and Maddix catches him with a Dropsault, planting his boots into Sacred’s chest and sending him hurtling across the ring! Landon somehow lands back on his feet, riding a wave of support from the crowd as he looks to end this one post haste, waiting for Sacred to bounce of the ropes and return against his will, clambering for oxygen. 6:30 … 6:29 … 6:28 The World Champion prepares to put this one beyond doubt and with a quick shuffle of the feet shoots off a Superkick! No! Sacred ducks underneath just in time! “The move that won Maddix the Coldfront Classic was well scouted! You can’t put one over on this Australian, no sir,” claims King with glee. Landon stumbles in double-take fashion, thinking he had it, but he’s soon brought back to reality as Sacred heads down low, taking Landon down with a reverse single leg takedown on Maddix’s right leg, quickly hopping on his back and sitting down, pulling back on Landon’s knee with a Single Leg Crab! “Ah, the Solution 9, Sacred hasn’t busted this out in quite some time,” notes the Longdogger, “but it’s a smart move as we begin to see both men’s game plans come into effect in the early stages.” “Predictable, though they may be,” King answers, “but of course, there can’t be anything fancy in their strategies with only seven minutes to work with. For Landon its hit and run, pin Sacred down for the three as quickly as possible by any means necessary, and for Sacred, its draw the time out, give himself the greatest chance to stand the test of time, as he’s done for so many years!” “Am I going to have to put up with blatant favoritism every week?” “You bet. Sacred rules! Maddix drools!” Sacred sits low, trying to apply as much pressure as possible and prevent Maddix from escaping, but Landon digs in and hurls himself forward, the ropes only a few feet away. With one big lunge he manages to grab the bottom rope and break the hold! “ONE!” 5:53 “TWO!” 5:52 “THREE!” 5:51 “FOUR!” 5:50 “Break the hold Sacred! I’ll stop this match so help me god!” Kivell’s amateur theatrics are hacky at best, but the message gets through and Sacred breaks the hold. “See that? That’s a real pro, eating up time and controlling the flow. That’s what a champion needs, none of this flippy floppy jazz.” “We’re just two old battle axes King,” Pete notes, “but even I can see that this is the future. Landon got where he is with his unique style, and he has no reason to change now. Just watch him go!” Indeed, Sacred’s stalling as he lifts Landon to his feet has given his opponent a tiny window of opportunity as shrugs Sacred off and… “WHOO!” … Chops Sacred across the chest with thunderous force! “WHOO!” Another leaves Sacred’s chest beet red! “WHOO!” The Australian is forced back into the corner, and Landon takes him by the hand and hurtles him into the opposite turnbuckles, following him in and crashing into him with a Stinger Splash! Sacred is dazed as he stumbles out in a stupor, giving Maddix the perfect chance to pin him down with an Oklahoma Roll! ONE! TWO! -but Sacred kicks out, and in the process, rolls out of the ring! “Landon again tries to end this quickly,” Pete points out, “but the wily Australian knows that the ball’s in Landon’s court; all he has to do is run the clock down and he’ll book himself a meeting with the Champ for the title.” “Exactly Dogger, he doesn’t have to do anything if he doesn’t want to,” King replies, “because he knows the real test is after these seven minutes are up. He could do laps around the ring if he wanted!” “Wouldn’t make for good television, though.” “They put you on play-by-play didn’t they?” 5:02 … 5:01 … 5:00 As five minutes ticks over, the fans at ringside are absolutely livid as Sacred takes a time out, completely ignoring Kivell’s orders to get back into the ring, while Cortez and Clark loom at either side of the challenger, but they know this is Landon’s fight. “ONE!” Kivell starts a count, but Sacred just strolls around the ring, the maniacal side of the Australian making a brief appearance as Landon clenches his fist, frustrated by the predicament, but knowing he has to play it cool. “TWO!” “THREE!” “Maddix is in a bind,” Longdogger observes, “either he lets Sacred wind the clock down, or take a risk and possibly shoot himself in the foot.” “And therein lies the answer,” King answers with a chuckle. “Maddix will take the risk. Maddix ALWAYS takes the risk. He’s the World Champion now; he can’t let himself be made a fool of. His pride, no, his giant bloated ego won’t let him!” “FOUR!” “FIVE!” The crowd starts to rise up, anger boiling over for the Australian who knows he’s in the driver’s seat. The fans start to chant: “MAD – DIX! MAD – DIX! MAD – DIX!” “SIX!” “SEVEN!” “MAD – DIX! MAD – DIX! MAD – DIX!” Sacred stops, looking around through the sea of fans all rally behind their champion. This is Landon’s perfect chance to strike and he seizes it, charging across to the ropes, vaulting onto the top and leaping off- CRASH! -but ends up crashing into the guard rail as Sacred dives clear! 4:45 … 4:44 ... 4:43 “The Spaceman Plancha! But nobody’s home!” Longdogger cries. “What did I tell you?” King smarmily boasts. “I bet everyone here expected non-stop action, but Sacred can see the bigger picture, and his experience will ultimately carry the day.” Maddix’s body is splattered against the padded concrete, even the fans have to cringe as Cortez and Clark steps forward to interject and Megan checks on Landon. Sacred, though, simply steps over his opponent and rolls back into the ring, climbing back to his feet and waiting patiently, looking at his invisible watch from time to time. Maddix pulls himself to his feet, shaken but not stirred, and he quickly tries to hop back up to the ring apron and catch Sacred unawares. Sacred meets him though, swinging with a forearm smash- WOOSH! -but Maddix ducks, heading between the second and third ropes, spearing the Australian in the gut! The cheers ring out as Sacred backs away in pain, but from his doubled over position he sprints forward, trying to knock Maddix clear into the third row, but the Champion steps aside and Sacred tangles himself in the ropes! Maddix would love to watch his opponent helplessly struggle to break free, but he has to be quick and takes a few back, charging across the ring apron and hitting a leg drop across Sacred’s head! 4:12 The roar of approval is deafening as Sacred is sent hurtling across the ring, propelled by the impact! Maddix has to stop and take a breather, his suicide dive taking the wind out of him, but looking up at the time clock he knows he has work to do. Sacred gingerly climbs back to his feet, seeing Landon enter the ring out of the corner of his eye. The Aussie spins around, a few forearm jabs stopping Maddix in his tracks, before snapping him over with an Ankle Scissors. Landon hits the mat and rolls back to his feet, but the move has him feeling dizzy, allowing Sacred to get inside and lift him up and over- BAM! -with a Northern Lights Suplex, keeping hold with a bridge! ONE! TWO! -but Maddix kicks out much to the fans delight. Sacred isn’t fussed, though, instantly twirling around and grabbing Maddix before he can escape and mount a come back, driving his knee into his spine and locking his arm and head firmly in place with a Chickenwing Facelock! “And the champion’s failed risk comes back to haunt him,” notes Longdogger, “as it gives Sacred enough time to execute a few quick moves in succession, finally bringing Maddix down to the mat where he’s at his best.” “That’s what Sacred has to do, keep Maddix anchored to the mat and slow him down, effectively taking out most moves in his arsenal, and before you know it, the time will run out!” Landon’s free arm flays WILDLY as Sacred pulls back on his head and twists his arm, while Kivell gets down on his knees and asks Maddix the question, but his muffled cries are enough to indicate he’s going to fight on. And he does! Try as he might, Sacred can’t stop Maddix from pushing himself forward, hurtling his whole body towards the ropes. 3:27 … 3:26 Landon’s desperation is fueled as he looks at the time ticking down, just a few inches from the ropes…. “MAD – DIX! MAD – DIX! MAD - DIX!” 3:18 He’s almost there… 3:17 “MAD – DIX! MAD – DIX! MAD - DIX!” … but Sacred suddenly and forcefully pulls back, dragging Maddix’s body back towards the centre of the ring, keeping the hold locked in for dear life! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Landon seems to have been totally thrown off his game,” Pete notes. “His victory at Slay Ride was amazing, his rise to the top an awesome feat, but now he’s been brought back down to earth, literally!” “Whoa, Pete, settle down that’s enough enthusiasm for you for one night,” answers King with a wicked smirk. “Of course Landon is off his game, Sacred has already lost to him once before, and after seeing Toxxic fall at Slay Ride, he’s obviously formulated a cunning plan.” But while King gushes, Landon has already set to work escaping the hold, his free hand reaching back and ripping and tearing at Sacred’s features! The fans delight in seeing Sacred’s face mauled and he has no choice but to let go! As soon as his grip is released even a little, Landon dives across the ring and whirls to his feet like a cat, while Sacred backs away like a scolded dog with a mangled face. Maddix builds up some speed and runs towards his opponent, but Sacred hits the mat and Landon hits the ropes, coming back on a return trip, only to be lifted into the air, spun around like a top! “Tilt-a-Whirl! NO!” Pete cries abruptly as Maddix slips away from the Australian’s grasp, landing on his feet without a scratch! Sacred growls, swiping at Landon’s head with a wild forearm blow, but Maddix expertly ducks, heads behind Sacred and takes him into position with an inverted Front Face Lock- 2:45 … 2:44 .... WHAM! “RRRRRRRAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!” -and spins around, driving his elbow into Sacred’s chest and dropping him to the mat! “Landon Eye!” blurts Pete suddenly. “This just may be it; a quick, hard-hitting move might just do the trick!” Maddix quickly hops over Sacred and hooks him by the leg as Kivell counts for- ONE! TWO! “NO!” Pete cries. “Sacred is still alive in this match, but Landon isn’t resting on his laurels.” Maddix lifts Sacred to his feet, glancing at the time clock from out the corner of his eye, finding Cortez and Clark on the outside, cheering him on, clapping their hands and getting the crowd involved. The Champion grins, knowing 2005 will be a calendar year, but first he has to do away with his first challenger as he lifts his Australian opponent to his feet. Landon pummels Sacred with stinging forearm blows, before doubling him over with a sharp kick to the gut, setting him into position as he runs into the ropes behind Sacred, returning, ready to take Sacred around the head and plant him face first. “Throwback!” both announcers cry, but with a graceful pivot of the feet, Sacred turns around and meets Landon with a knee to the ribcage! 2:13 … 2:12 Sacred tries to press the advantage, pulling Landon close and grabbing him by the tights, lifting him up into the air, completely vertical! The fans roar to life, calling to their champion to counter, and Landon responds, trying to free himself, kicking wildly! Sacred almost stumbles, unable to keep Landon steady, so he decides to just back clumsily towards the corner, dropping Maddix on the top rope! Cortez and Clark both exchange knowing glances, smiling profusely as Landon is in his element, on the top rope! Sacred, though, knows this all too well and simply grabs Maddix by the head, pulling him down and draping him across the turnbuckles! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Hah! Where’s Maddix going to go now he’s stuck in the proverbial tree of woe? Just as it seems Landon will turn the tide and put the result beyond doubt, Sacred reaches into his bag of tricks and pulls out another gem.” “This match is tailored almost perfectly for Sacred, but knowing Landon’s explosive offense, the Aussie’s tactics may work against him!” From his vantage point, dumped upside down in an impossible position, Landon can see Sacred lean against the opposite turnbuckles, taking his sweet time as the clock counts down- 0h:1 For those not upside down, like Sacred- 1:40 Inching ever closer to a World Title bout, Sacred waits patiently while Landon struggles to break free, waving away help from his allies and fighting on his own. 1:34 ... 1:33 … 1:32 The seconds continue to tick over, until the wait finally gets to the Australian, deciding its time to put the result beyond any doubt. With Landon still trying to shuffle himself off the turnbuckles, Sacred looks to the sky, then at Maddix, lowering his head and charging across the ring at his trapped foe… … but Maddix has a few tricks up his sleeve, and just as the Australian is about to break him in half with a Kamikaze spear, he picks his spot perfectly… … Pulling his upper body up and sitting on the top rope, just avoiding the impact! Sacred is not so lucky as- CLANG! -he crashes into the ring post shoulder first, and the fans go absolutely nuts! “HOW!?” is all King can utter. “Sacred had this match in the bag, he was about to obliterate Maddix, but the damn Spaniard escaped!” “Now look who’s right,” Pete boasts, nudging King in the side. “Sacred thought, as we all did, that Maddix couldn’t possibly survive, but using his superior agility he’s won himself this match!” 1:00 .. 0:59 … 0”58 Sacred groans as Clark checks to see if he’s all right, albeit with a huge, satisfied smile on his face. Maddix thanks his lucky stars as he somersaults off the turnbuckles, instantly pulling Sacred down with a School Boy, placing the point of pressure on Sacred’s now injured shoulder as he hops his feet up onto the second rope and the fans cheer, chanting along with Kivell’s count- “ONE!” “TWO!” “THREEEEEEEEEE…!!” … But Sacred rolls his good shoulder out to the side, breaking the count as we count down, now forty five seconds to go and Landon in the box seat. Sacred is stunned, stumbling around in a circle, but the Champion is there to confirm his worst fears, taking him in an inverted DDT position- CRUNCH! -and dropping Sacred across his back with a Diving Reverse Backbreaker! But Landon doesn’t go for the pin; instead he keeps hold of the Face Lock, pushing Sacred forward and grabbing his injured arm, sitting down across Sacred’s lower back as the entire arena explodes! “YYYYYYYEEEEEEEAAAAAHHHHHH!” “LAND OF NOD! LAND OF NOD!” Pete cries over and over, the atmosphere overcoming him. “Toxxic tapped to this move, and now it looks as though Landon Maddix will defeat another Champion with this move!” “Well, I guess the ICTV title isn’t *so* bad…” 0:20 … 0:19 … 0:18 The fans all look up at the time left, and then the situation in the ring. Maddix grits his teeth, unable to keep a smile from covering his face as Clark and Cortez cheer him on, along with the thousands on thousands of fans in the arena. 0:13 … 0:12 … 0:11 With the final ten seconds approaching, it looks as though not even the lord himself will deny Maddix… … But Sacred is a desperate and cornered Australian, and he still has a trick left, ready to spring at any moment. As Maddix’s mind returns to the scene of his epic victory, Sacred takes his free arm and reaches up… “FIVE!” “FOUR!” “THREE!” “TWO!” …suddenly pulling Landon’s arm free from around his head and hurls himself forward with a somersault, shrugging Maddix clear and out of the ring! ONE! … *DING! DING! DING!* The fans cannot believe it. Clark, Cortez. They can’t believe it. But Funyon’s booming voice confirms their worst fears- “Ladies and Gentleman, your winner, having lasted all seven minutes and now NUMBER ONE CONTENDER to the WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP… SSSSAAACCCRRRREEEEDDDD!” “He did it! He actually did it!” King shouts in amazement. “I, of course, didn’t doubt him for a second. Not a one!” “Just as Landon countered the Narcosynthesis to earn himself a shot at the World Title in the Coldfront Classic, Sacred somehow escapes the Land of Nod to earn a shot himself! Just when I thought 2005 would be different, just as we all would, the Revolution put another one over on Martial Law!” “Don’t despair, Petey,” King answers reassuringly, “This wasn’t even half the battle. The World Title match will be the real fight, but I’m confident that Sacred will again emerge the victor.” Lockdown goes to a commercial break, as Megan gives him the title and reassuring words, flanked by Cortez and Clark, all staring at Sacred, who simply stands in the centre of the ring. …A smile the kind we’ve not seen from him in a long time covers his face, his eyes set on the World Title as we… FADE OUT

The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents... SWF LOCKDOWN, WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 5th, LIVE FROM THE VERIZON WIRELESS ARENA IN MANCHESTER, NEW HAMPSHIRE! (5:00pm PDT, 8:00pm EDT; check local listings) Send marked matches, promos, etc. to Ace309 Hey, guess who lives in New Hampshire! I do! After all the shit going down over Christmas break and at Slay Ride, FINALLY it gets back to where it really counts -- the squared circle. The Suicide King and Longdogger Pete will be presenting all the fallout from Slay Ride, including Landon Maddix's incredible title win and the flip-flopping of the HCG and USJL titles! What will Toxxic say? Opening Promo: Landon Maddix SWF WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIPS TAG TEAM MATCH Revolution Zero (Toxxic & Sean Davis, SWF Tag Team Champions) v. Wild and Dangerous (Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous) -> You know it, baby! Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous made their triumphant return towards the end of 2004, ending the year with a triumphant victory over Max King and Dominic Korgath to secure #1 contendership to the SWF World Tag Team Championships! People have said that it's inevitable, that it's destiny for Wild and Dangerous to come back and win the tag championships -- but if Sean Davis and Toxxic have their way, that destiny's going to have to be put on hold! Rules: Standard tag rules. Have fun with the tag ropes. Word Limit: 6500 Marker: Ace309 SINGLES MATCH Manson v. "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins -> How many times has this match happened? Yeah, that's what I thought. SWF, SJL, these two have brawled way too many times for me to discuss in depth here, so we'll say that whoever wins will get some sort of title shot in the next three shows and leave it at that. No, I'm not kidding. Rules: Standard singles rules. Word Limit: 4500 Marker: Chuck Woolery TAG MATCH Martial Law (Alan Clark and "Urban Legend" Todd Cortez) v. "The Icon" Max King and Dominic Korgath -> Let's get some order in the tag ranks, shall we? Weeks ago, Cortez and Clark aligned with the NEW SWF World Heavyweight Champion, Landon Maddix, to form Martial Law, a stable designed to swing the balance of power from Revolution Zero. Thus far they're on the right track, but in this match the newly formed team of King and Korgath look to derail them! (As a side note,KKK would be such an awesome name for you guys; King, Korgath and Kelly. Think about that one.) Anyway, this match should establish who's for real and who's for... fake in the tag division, so let's stop being polite and let's start getting real! Rules: Standard tag rules. Word Limit: 5000 Marker: Justice SEVEN MINUTE CHALLENGE MATCH WORLD TITLE NOT ON THE LINE Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix v. Sacred -> Yes, this is our opening match. Sacred, the perennial World title contender, lost to Landon in the finals of the Cold Front Classic tournament, and we all know what Maddix has done since then. Now, however, Sacred has a chance to make up for that. If he can go seven minutes with Landon Maddix without being pinned, he'll receive a World title shot on the 1/14 edition of Storm. If he somehow scores a victory over Landon in that seven minutes, he gets to name a stip, too. Whereas if Landon can win in seven minutes, he gets to take a breather until a Clusterfuck defence. Sounds like fun? You know it. Rules: DQs and countouts are in effect. There is a seven minute time limit on the match. Word Limit: 4000 Marker: chirs3 Plus: Everyone who's not booked better have a promo about how they intend to win Clusterfuck! Yeah, you heard me! Munich, Mak Francis, Carnage... all this and more... on LOCKDOWN.

No, but you and Spike are both welcome to send me a haiku or something.

This is delayed until tomorrow morning or early afternoon owing to the lack of two of my matches. I'm going to need Landon and Sacred to PM their matches to me so I can mark them.

Right, I was wondering about a breakdown in scoring.

Anyone have a breakdown of the scoring in the amateur match? I'm a nerd, and I'm curious how closely if at all they tried to emulate the actual rules (considering there hasn't been a single 5-minute period or periods that added to 5 in years). I know, I'm a nerd.

Edit in Jerry Orbach or I'll keel you.

That's because it's a shoddy use of the term "evolution" to describe, inter alia, geological concepts that fall with evolution proper into an overarching theory of the origin of the Earth. (EDIT: Or, rather, a theory that describes why the earth is in the state we find it today. The original phrasing is inaccurate.) Evolution proper has nothing to say about the Big Bang, for example, or how the earth got to be here. It deals only with change among living things.

Yes it does, it means there is at least 1 white hat and 1 black hat, the other is either black or white, if they knew it would be too easy. Remember this is a brain teaser so it's not meant to be too easy. Remember what I said in another thread about how you're trying desperately to use ideas you don't understand?

They're fairly well-known, but the fancam iron man matches with Bret/Flair and Bret/Owen are very nice. I'm not sure on dates.

If anyone's truly feeling conflicted on the evolution-creation question, may I suggest a visit to Talk.Origins? The site has a certain degree of preaching to the choir, if you'll pardon the phrasing, but it attempts to deal with arguments on both sides of the discussion. For an alternative view (which is dealt with heavily on T.O, among other places), Kent Hovind's website is a hardline young-earth creationist website that attempts to deal scientifically with creation. For a synopsis of the hardline view in handy-dandy oversimplified comic book form, go to Jack Chick's site and look at the Big Daddy tract. Warning: Fundamentalism. There's a ton of material on the web if you want to explore the various arguments and urban legends surrounding each of the views. It's a bit of a hobby of mine to keep up with the literalist viewpoints - I just find it interesting.

Looney's post raises a question. Aren't all PWI votes wasted? I was under the impression that the awards were worked.

Because he has been, sporadically?

XF9 was a goofy stable comprising, if not entirely then mainly, Ash Ketchum and LDP. LDP wasn't exactly a dominant personality, so Ash's goofiness really shined through. Then Tod deKindes showed up as an angsty German face, and hilarity ensued. The biggest thing that came of TdK's XF9 membership was that, following Yet Another Match With Ash at (I believe) Apocalypse 02, he ran in and attacked Flesher to avenge his stablemate's loss. This led to Flesher dumping the US Title to deKindes in a run of three straight free-TV matches. The high point of the angle was Ash no-selling XF9's existence by asking the Midnight Carnival to protect his pregnant girlfriend Misty.

I don't have the book handy, but one of the articles in William Irwin, ed.,'s book The Matrix and Philosophy (or is is Philosophy and the Matrix? I can never remember) deals briefly in Hitler's scat fetish. It's a surreal read to begin with, so pick it up, but don't pay full price for it. Actually, just steal it.

This reminds me of Tod deKindes joining X-Force 9, in reverse. Anyone? Anyone?

Thanks for that. Anyone can major in anything without even a vague understanding of it, especially when he's 19 and probably a freshman or sophomore. Your arguments are shoddy at best. I'm trying to point you toward someone who started from the same place you're starting but was actually able to make a coherent statement instead of just rambling in a self-contradicting manner. And there's your problem. You totally misunderstood what I was saying. Of course literature can be understood differently by different people. That's completely irrelevant. What IS relevant is that literature has no existential import of its own and no probative value whatsoever. It reflects the author's views, and to some extent the views of the readers and commentators. It does not reflect reality. It can't 'prove' anything. Otherwise, James Morrow's Jonathan Sarkos character from the Towing Jehovah trilogy would be the death knell for your argument, because he is pure evil. But, of course, it isn't, because literature has no probative value.

Well, there are always outliers. Ahhh, moral relativist tripe. The problem with using literature to "prove" something is that literature is at the whim of the writer. Literature aims to illustrate, but it does not on its own say anything about the world. MacBeth could have just as easily been written to "prove" that pure evil exists. It's just that that wouldn't have been dramatically interesting. If you're really interested in using Abraham and Isaac as an argument about ethics, I'd advise reading Kierkegaard's Fear and Trembling before you try to go any further. You're swinging ineptly at the same sort of ideas that he writes about and tries to illustrate. I think it would also help you get your head around something you're clearly having a lot of trouble understanding.

I'd assume about 16, which is when my history teacher pulled out the old "Hitler is only a bad man because we won" chestnut.

Is it wrong for me to picture Davis and Francis as a Nation of Islam/Domination-style tag team with Marcus Washington as their Farrakhan analog, and Spike just getting more and more confused as it gets more and more intense?

And it's good that you did. The problem is that for a variety of reasons, many of them good, a lot of people aren't as reliable as you are. The appeal to show isn't for people who are reliable, or for people who no-show once every month or two, or even for the people who no-show constantly [as they're mostly beyond help]. It's for the people who are on the fence. We need to encourage the people who aren't showing but could really shoot up the card to start showing, both for the good of competition and for the sake of having a solid card. I mean, I'm reluctant to put Sean Davis and Manson in a singles match, despite the fact that they're both very good writers and of roughly equal ability, because there's a good chance neither of them will show. That affects the way I can book the wrestlers and the way writers develop.

I'm probably Mak's biggest fan. Color me happy. Toxxic and Maddix may feel free to colour me happy.