Ace309

I prefer to think of them as tremendously sexcellent.

... you're cooking what for dinner?

I’m better than him. Allison Onita is fast asleep in the back seat of the blue ragtop BMW, but Tom Flesher sits in the driver’s seat, eyes wide open. He seems almost hypnotized by the road, passing through endless cornfields on the side. This could be the rural area outside Anytown, USA. As it stands, though, it’s the rural area about two hours from Chicago, Illinois. Tom Flesher is used to making the drive at night. He was never a morning person to begin with, and besides, the traffic is lighter when it’s dark out. It was easiest when he was traveling with Mak Francis or Justice and Rule… they could drive twenty-four hours a day if they needed to, Tom overnight and his travel partner during the day. That extra time at the hotel helped with the change in time zones, and being awake at night was usually the key to an easy, mostly private workout. Tonight, though, it’s not just habit keeping him awake. I can’t believe he’s made it this far. Two and two. Really, the submission match shouldn’t even count. No one expected Dace to take it. Two and one. Sure, they expected Dace to win the hardcore match, but Tom could have easily pulled it out. The points system match? That should have been all him. He’s got more amateur experience and it’s more recent. How can Dace compete with that? Two and zero. Not a single earned win, just the two he could have taken in his sleep. The series that Tom expected to win in three straight matches is going to match 5 on pay-per-view. Only one more match. This may be his last chance. He may not get another opportunity like this, or at all. When a horse gets injured, they just shoot it. At a certain point, when you live out your usefulness, they’ll send you riding off into the sunset whether you want to or not. Is he walking the King’s Road? He remembers his trip on the royal road, starting the day El Luchador Magnifico won the strap. The man he’d beaten in a match of the year candidate in 2002, as a rookie, was wearing the World Title. Less than a year from his SJL debut, he had a shot at the title at the Christmas 2002 pay-per-view, and a rematch at Clusterfuck 2003. He couldn’t do it. Magnifico was the last person to give him fits the way that Dace Night has. Sure, there were the losses here and there… Thoth taking the ICTV and later the World Title. Frost taking the epic Window Pain match. Jay Dawg, of all people. None of them had the staying power that Dace Night does. The Trinity always seemed to get the better of the Magnificent Seven. Dace Night was good then, and he’s had the better part of a year to improve. He’s backed against a wall, staring down the challenger and fighting just to preserve himself. I need this. This may be his last chance. This time, it’s not about the numbers. It’s not about the record for most reigns, most defenses, most wins, most days. It’s about pride, but more than that, it’s about survival. I promised myself I’d never, ever be mediocre. I can’t afford to lose this one. Tom Flesher’s eyes focus on the road ahead as everything else fades into his rearview mirror. ~fin~

Sweet shin music. It'd get the pop for tuning up the band, because the crowd would assume it was going to be the superkick, and then BAM! Whack the guy in the shinsm, and get the Dude Love meta-comedy pop.

YES! NUMBER ONE HEEL HEAT!

MAIN EVENT SINGLES MATCH WORLD TITLE BOUT "Deathwish" Danny Williams© vs Janus© - I have to go with Danny here. It's going to be close, but Danny's just got that much more polish and the ability to write a long, well-paced match. CANADIAN DEATH MATCH BEST-OF-FIVE SERIES, MATCH FIVE OF FIVE Dace Night (2) vs "The Superior One" Tom Flesher (2) - np IRON MAN MATCH USJL TITLE BOUT Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix© vs Alan Clark - Clark checks in, but he doesn't check out. Maddix for the win. MASKED MAN MYSTERY MATCH FIVE WOUNDS GAUNTLET The Masked Man vs Aecas, David Blazenwing, Ace Lezaire, Insane Luchador and... Ebony? - Superfly. LAST MAN STANDING Nathaniel Kibagami vs Toxxic - Toxxic. CASINO FLOOR BRAWL TAG TEAM TITLES BOUT Hollywood Boulevard© vs Crow & "The Notorious" John Duran - Sunset Boulevard. CAGE MATCH CRUISERWEIGHT TITLE BOUT Johnny Dangerous© vs "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins - Johnny D. SINGLES MATCH Munich vs Jay Dawg - Jay D. SINGLES MATCH Ced Ordonez vs Ryan Dustin - Ryan Dustin. Cedric's got some rust to shake off.

You better not be kidding.

- The current plan for Flesher/Dace is to have a Canadian Death match at the pay-per-view. The whole “number-one contender” storyline seems to be up in the air. Logical booking says that if Flesher goes over, Danny retains, and vice versa, but lord knows the SWF’s never worried about logic. - Ryan Dustin was brought in as a special favor to Xstasy, who’s still involved in the back as a liaison for companies that might not know wrestling very well. Dustin was involved in X’s training; although X incorporated capoeira, the similarities are still evident. Dustin’s had a lot of problems with his demons in the past, so let’s hope he doesn’t do anything to offend Stevens or Zenon. - Speaking of Alex Zenon, he’s currently working without a contract in his on-air role as interim commissioner. Mark Stevens’ “voyage home” is taking longer than expected, but no one’s worrying too much about it. Zenon has no real connections to the outside world, so he’s been happy to pick up the slack. Stevens, it’s been said, might be trying for another junior heavyweight, if you know what I mean… if Christopher Edward’s sibling is a boy, Mark will likely deviate from the “Carnival” names and instead use a family name that he didn’t subject Christopher to. (Mark Babaganoush Stevens?) - Toxxic’s gigantic push, which the fans have been reacting poorly to, is mostly the result of his backstage relationship with the Brit Clique of Dace Night and Aecas. It’s incredible… they travel together, speaking completely unintelligibly to each other. This would have been a problem when Stubby had the book – he didn’t like heels and faces traveling together – but in this day and age, Zenon doesn’t care. - Buzz is that the SWF wardrobe design department has been fabricating a new Dance Dance Revolution-themed costume for a junior heavyweight. Hm… - Johnny Dangerous has been quite vocal about wanting to move up the card for some time now. His match against Janus on Monday night appears to be a test of sorts; Janus, while big, is capable of a very good carry job, but being the smaller, more mobile wrestler, Johnny may be expected to put on his stripes as a ring general and direct the action. If these two put on a good show, Johnny may end up with a spot in the upper card, even if he doesn’t walk away with the title. - All signs point to an ICTV title change, though, as the SWF hasn’t seen an ICTV Champion take on a World Champion since the HVille Thugg did it on his way to his first World Title. Frost simply vacated the belt, which many took as an indication of his being groomed as the next World Champion. Unfortunately, his personal demons and the success of the Frost Brand line of merchandise kept him off the title scene. The boys backstage are worried that the same thing might be happening to Landon Maddix; the talented wrestler is having success outside the ring in the world of day trading, and the company is afraid they’ll lose him to the lucrative stock market. - Everyone’s happy to see Chris Card back in action, although some of the backstagers are none too happy that Said was brought in with a flurry of attention, only to be used as an excuse to bring Card back in. Said is now back to working under the name “Muhammed Farrakhan” on the East Coast indy circuit, using an “angry black Muslim” gimmick. Word is he was pleased with the exposure he got, but a little miffed at Whitey using him just to make a comeback. - Ace Lezaire is angling to have Impaled Northern Moonforest used for the theme for 13th Hour or, failing that, Ground Zero. He’s a huge fan of the Necrowizard. Credit: HotPandaLuv.net

Sorry. I was googling for accuracy in the matchup, not for quality, and grabbed the first site that discussed the match in detail. I figured I'd leave finding reviews up to people who knew what they were talking about.

Misawa/Kobashi vs. Kawada/Taue.

Horowitz often teamed with RENO RIGGINS, prompting them to get matching trunks - Horowitz with the pat-on-the-back hand, Riggins with dice on his BUTT.

Always a favorite... featuring one of my favorite wrestlers and one of my favorite personalities.

I'm sorry, I didn't understand a word of that.

I'm sorry for the Reagan family's loss. I can't help but think, though, it must have been heartbreaking to see King Ron in the condition he was in, so it must be at least some relief. Hopefully they take comfort in that.

I didn't feel you'd appreciate being thrown in with Ace Lezaire liking death metal and mark Stevens naming his son after an Al Snow gag.

Crossposted my "internet rumors" thread and a "partial card" here. http://s7.invisionfree.com/EWrestlingUnive...hp?showtopic=26

[This match was the first, and thus far only, occurrence of one of the coolest stips I’ve ever seen, Canadian Death. It was part of quite the interesting plot, and it’s historically significant because Lerrin Breggan was Bobby Riley. If you didn’t know that, you do now. Oh, and Edwin did something special in the match for the first time, too. CANADIAN DEATH MATCH FOR THE SWF HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP Edwin MacPhisto © vs. Lerrin Breggan [guest referee: Jay Dawg] - Thoth was supposed to face Edwin for the title on Smarkdown, but the balancer will be unable to make it to the show and his title shot is in jeopardy. But just because Thoth won’t be wrestling on Smarkdown doesn’t mean Edwin won’t be defending the title! Oh no…the quick thinking Stubby has substituted his loyal hired muscle Lerrin Breggan to fill the spot and added his right hand jobber Jay Dawg as the referee! Match Description – Regular DQ and count-out rules are not in effect. The winner is the first one to get a combined count of 10. For example, if one man pins the other for a 4 count, then a 3 count later in the match that’s a combined 7 count. Only 3 counts and higher can contribute to the combined count (you can’t just get 5 near falls in a row to win). Word Limit: 6000 words] The lights in the Halifax Center drop out, and suddenly the opening chords of Do Or Die’s “Victory” blare over the speakers! A huge explosion of white pyro rocks the ramp, and the lights are restored to reveal Lerrin Breggan and his fellow soldier in Creative Control, Jay Dawg, standing atop the entrance stage! “The following contest is for the SWF World Heavyweight Title, and it is a Canadian deathmatch! To win, a competitor must score 10 counts on his opponent, in falls of three counts or greater! Entering first, being accompanied by tonight’s special guest referee, Jay Dawg, he hails from Cincinnati, Ohio, and weighs in at 285 pounds…the self-proclaimed King…Lerrrrrin Brrrrrrrreggan!” “Welcome back to SWF Smarkdown,” shouts Mark Stevens over the tumultuous crowd, “and our unique main event for tonight! I can’t say I’m happy about the stipulation, but it’s going to be an interesting fight nonetheless: can world champion Edwin MacPhisto retain his belt against the heavily stacked odds in favor of Creative Control?” As Lerrin and JD stalk to the ring, Bobby Riley chimes in with his thoughts! “Of course not, Mark! Breggan is a beast, and with his tag partner calling things right up the middle, he’s sure to win out over MacPhisto’s cheating, hold-you-down ways!” “Please, Bobby,” retorts Mark, as the dynamic duo dives into the ring, “give it up. It was cute the first time…” “Victory” cuts out, and the lights drop out again, the roar of boos being replaced by a rousing cheer…and a huge explosion of pyro! “I SAID HALLELUJAH!” The vocals of “Battleflag” immediately drop in to the surprise of the crowd, and the arena illuminates with spinning lights as Edwin MacPhisto, world title around his waist and tag title over his shoulder, appears at the top of the ramp and immediately begins his journey down to the ring! “What, no stupid pre-match promo from Edwin tonight?” scoffs Riley. “Edwin’s talked enough tonight,” says Mark, “giving Chris Wilson, Creative Control, and everyone threatening him a huge ultimatum earlier in the show. He’s all action now, Bobby, and he has to be if he’s going to retain his belt…” “And his opponent, from Amsterdam, England, weighing 239 pounds, the leader of the Midnight Carnival, one-half of the tag team champions, your SWF World Heavyweight Champion…Edddddwin MacPhistOOOOO!” At the cry of his name, Edwin busts a wide grin and breaks into a dash down the ramp, garnering a big pop from the crowd! He dives into the ring and passes his accoutrements off to the timekeeper, then nurses his bandaged hand, trying to work out some kinks before the match. “Edwin hurt that hand somehow this weekend, and I can’t help but think that Lerrin Breggan and Jay Dawg will have their eye on any weakness they can find in the champ,” comments Stevens. In the ring, JD mumbles something to Lerrin, who nods…and our guest referee for the evening calls for the start of the match! *DING DING DING* “The opening bell’s sounded,” says Stevens, looking on grimly, “but for our champion, the final bell may have just tolled.” Edwin MacPhisto shoots his gaze back and forth between Jay Dawg and Lerrin Breggan, both members of Creative Control bouncing on the balls of their feet as they size up their prey for the evening. Lerrin and Edwin start to circle each other slowly, each looking for an opening in the others defenses, and the hot crowd fills with murmurs as they notice JD getting a little closer than a referee should. “Look at that!” snaps Stevens. “Jay Dawg doesn’t look much like a referee in there…the way he’s positioning himself, hell, he looks more like Breggan’s corner man!” “Uh…well, Mark,” responds Riley, “he basically is. I mean, Stubby booked it this way for a reason.” “…you admit that?” “Oh, come on, Mark. Not even me in all my infinite fast-talkery can hold up any other sort of pretense for this match. Methinks Stubby sees Edwin on the breaking point, and he’d like his boys to be the ones responsible for finally breaking our champion’s will.” Stevens just sits, jaw gaping at Riley, as in the ring, Lerrin takes a lunge for Edwin—no, the Mac Daddy slides to the side, keeping his distance from the technical monster across from him. Breggan closes the distance with a thundering forward step, but Edwin keeps moving and juking, circling with the CC hired guns while the crowd starts to bubble over with anticipation. “So, wait a second. Let me get this straight. You, Robert Riley, ADMIT that this match is basically designed to railroad Edwin out of the champion’s seat?” “Well, yeah. Duh, Mark.” “Gah! I can’t believe we just have to let this happen! The Canadian Deathmatch rules are one thing, but Jay Dawg as the referee is another! There’s no way he’s going to count a single fall for his buddy Breggan!” “Who knows, Mark. JD might call it right up the middle!” A split-second after Riley offers that thought, Lerrin lunges forward again, and Edwin dodges to the side again…but this time, Jay Dawg throws his leg in front of the evading Edwin and clips the world champion’s shin out from under him! MacPhisto stumbles and nearly falls, barely avoiding a faceplant with a last-minute snag of the ring ropes! The Halifax Centre floods with boos for the rather partial guest ref! “Right, Riley. Call it right up the middle. This is barely underway, and it’s already ridiculous.” In the ring, Edwin collects himself and stares daggers at JD, opening his mouth and starting to sling some choice verbiage at the devious Dawg, only to have Lerrin Breggan seize on the momentary distraction and barrel forward with a hard shoulder tackle! Edwin is swept off his feet and driven into the nearest corner, the impact of Lerrin’s massive and dense frame pasting the Mac Daddy’s spine to the post. “Look at that power!” shouts Riley as Breggan briefly pulls his shoulder back before pounding it into Edwin’s lungs again…and again…and again! “He’s a different breed of big man, Mark, one like we’ve never seen before—agile when it counts, but most importantly, a skilled technical wrestler who can do a lot more than the typical big-man punching and kicking!” As if to prove Riley’s point, Breggan lets off his corner assault for just a moment, long enough to pull Edwin to his feet and underhook his arms. Jay Dawg gives an encouraging shout of “show ‘em what you got, big guy!”, and with that, Breggan jerks backwards and lifts Edwin MacPhisto up and out of the corner with a tremendous Northern Light suplex! Edwin crashes down hard and skids halfway across the ring, doing his best to protect his bandaged hand as he lands, and Jay Dawg is absolutely giddy as Lerrin effortlessly rises back to his feet. “Huge overhead belly-to-belly throw from Lerrin Breggan—god, if he can wrestle like that, I know why he calls himself the king…and why Stubby was smart enough to give him a title shot so soon!” Edwin curls up uncomfortably for a moment, but Breggan drops to cover! JD dives to the mat and counts as Edwin struggles against Breggan’s oppressive force! ONE! TWO—no, Edwin shoves Breggan’s shoulder up and rolls out from under him. “First attempted fall of the night from Lerrin Breggan,” calls Mark Stevens, “and certainly the first of many, as we need a combined ten-count worth of valid pinfalls to crown a victor.” Edwin rolls back to his feet as Breggan rises off his knees, and Edwin rushes forward with a shoulder charge. He connects, but the rookie hoss doesn’t budge an inch. Edwin backs off and drives the side of his body into Breggan again…with the same unfortunate result. The crowd noise swells with worried murmurs as Breggan, unfazed, stares coldly into Edwin’s eyes and works out a large, loud kink in his neck. Not wanting to stay on Beatdown Street for any longer than he has to, Edwin checks his six and then darts backwards, bouncing into the ropes for a little extra momentum on his forward burst…and getting nowhere, as Lerrin Breggan blocks the incoming shotei with an extended palm, then yanks Edwin over and down to the center of the ring with a big arm drag! “Look at that! Lookit!” squeals Riley. “Breggan can even make an arm drag look brutal!” The self-proclaimed King keeps a tight lock on Edwin’s arm, pulling him back to his feet with an uncomfortable twist into a hammerlock before suddenly tugging hard to reel the Mac Daddy in! All twisted up, Edwin stumbles into Breggan back-first, and the big beast quickly transitions from the hammerlock to a rear waistlock before vaulting backwards…and nearly dropping Edwin straight on his head with a high-angle belly-to-back suplex! Edwin impacts on the back of his neck and lets out a dull cry of pain as he hits canvas, and Breggan bridges for a pin! JD is on the mat faster than flies on Z after he accidentally trips and falls into a big pool of honey, and Edwin’s kicking his feet and trying to escape! ONE! TWO! TH-no, Edwin barely escapes, thrashing out of the hold just before three! He falls aside and scrambles back to his feet, breathing heavily and trying to get his bearings, but before he can mount an offensive Breggan has him caught in another rear waistlock—no, Edwin throws an elbow back into Lerrin’s skull for the break! Trying to keep the big man on his toes, Edwin swings a sharp left fist at the same place his lucky elbow struck, but Breggan gets his arm up and blocks! Lerrin seizes on the arm again and suddenly shifts his momentum, dragging Edwin and whipping him forward towards the ropes. Edwin hits and bounces back, and Lerrin shoots forward with a stiff clothesline, but the Crown Prince of Flash and Panache ducks beneath and runs the ropes! The crowd gives a bit of a cheer as Edwin rockets back towards Breggan and with a big crossbody! “Crossbody from Edwin, a bit of airspeed to hopefully turns this match around!” shouts Stevens. This is the point at which Lerrin Breggan nonchalantly catches Edwin. Edwin thrashes and tries to get out, but in Breggan’s arms his mobility is drastically reduced. He fails to escape, and so Breggan lets him go…if by let him go you mean ‘extend his knee and drive Edwin down over it firmly and sharply with a textbook backbreaker.’ With a careful shove, Breggan removes Edwin from his knee and goes for another cover! ONE! TWO! TH—no, Edwin gets the shoulders up! JD looks at Breggan with a sick grin and says, quite audibly, “Sorry, man. I’ll count faster next time.” Ticked off beyond belief at JD’s blatant exploitation of the rules, Edwin comes surging off the canvas with a swinging fist, aiming straight for JD, but Lerrin Breggan’s two massive palms lock around Edwin’s neck and stop the surge! “Ha! With JD running the show and Lerrin as good as he his, there’s nothing Edwin can do! They’re going to break him tonight!” asserts Riley. Breggan pulls Edwin in a bit closer, still maintaining the double choke on the champion…and Edwin lashes out with a fierce snap kick into Breggan’s right knee! Lerrin grunts, and Edwin fires off another right-side kick, then another to the thigh, to the thigh, and back to the knee, this fifth shot clipping it out and dropping Breggan down into a kneel! The crowd starts to audibly regain some hope! “Edwin’s fighting back—I knew he had the heart! Come on, Edwin! Just make it through Lerrin Breggan somehow, and you’ve got a week off before Wargames!” With Breggan kneeling, Edwin pulls his palms back and brings them in one Lerrin’s ears with a solid bell clap, and a pained Breggan releases the choke! The Mac Daddy thinks on his feet and dashes back into the ropes again, bouncing off and this time scoring a direct hit on Lerrin’s forehead with a big running kneelift! The King falls onto his back, and Edwin immediately loops back around and slides in for the cover! “Shining wizard kneelift, and Edwin’s got his first pinfall of the night!” JD dives to the mat… …and yawns. Cue the thundering ovation of boos. “Oh, come on!” JD raises his hand slowly as Lerrin struggles, and a look of rage passes over Edwin’s face as he tries to hold the King in place. OOOOOOOOOOOOONE…and Breggan explodes outward as JD makes the slowest one-count in the history of the sport! He sits up and shares a grin with JD, who helps him back up to his feet. “Excuse my language, ladies and gentlemen,” shouts a very pissed Stevens, “but this is bullshit!” “It’s all in the rules, Mark!” “Then the rules are bullshit, god dammit! If I were Edwin I would be royally pissed at this so-called King and his court jester right now!” In the ring, Edwin starts to shout at JD again, but Breggan silences him with a charge! Edwin sidesteps, but Breggan comes right off the ropes with a rebound clothesline and blindsides Edwin from behind! Lerrin lifts Edwin by his hair and again goes to the two-handed choke. With Edwin stunned, he hooks a front facelock and cinches Edwin’s waist, lifting him up and away from the ropes into a vertical suplex. “Amazing elevation! Breggan’s got Edwin suspended high and dry!” shouts Riley. “I haven’t seen someone get that much hang-time on a fellow wrestler since the Hville Thugg!” Edwin’s free arm goes slack as the blood rushes to his head after 10, 15 seconds of stalling, and suddenly Breggan spins and falls backwards, thundering Edwin down to rock the ring! “Corkscrew vertical suplex from Lerrin Breggan,” mutters Stevens, “and I am about to give up hope. At this point, Edwin’s going to need a miracle to retain his title.” “What a great opportunity for Lerrin Breggan! Only his third match in the SWF, and he’s already got a chance to win our most prestigious prize!” “You mean have it handed to him? Don’t make any pretensions now, Riley. This is a gift from the Commissioner, plain and simple. Imagine what sort of favors Breggan’ll owe to our resident Mephistopheles if he becomes the champion tonight…” As Stevens trails off, Breggan pulls Edwin up off the mat with one hand and makes a cut-throat gesture with the other, drawing a big roar of boos from the crowd. With Edwin dazed and dizzy from the perpetual power assault, Breggan gets back-to-back with the Daddy Mac and hooks both his arms! A roar of irate recognition courses through the crowd. “Here we go!” shouts a giddy Riley as Lerrin starts to twist Edwin into position over his back. “Breggan’s jumping vertebreaker, the Kingdom Come, should be more than enough to get the first 8, 9, hell, even 10 counts on Edwin MacPhisto!” Lerrin slowly twists Edwin, trying to lift him off his feet but having some trouble manipulating Edwin’s lanky form. Breggan’s slight delay gives Edwin a chance to come to his senses, and in half-a-second Breggan finds himself meeting a lot more resistance as Edwin powers forward and tries to break out of the back-to-back lock! The crowd starts to cheer for the champ! “MAC-PHIST-OOOOO!” “MAC-PHIST-OOOOO!” But Breggan won’t let go, and Creative Control’s big brute takes a heavy step forward, then another, dragging Edwin with him! “The monstrous Breggan is just too strong!” bemoans Stevens. JD is frothing at the mouth, all-too-eager to count the pinfall on Edwin…but before Breggan can secure, Edwin manages to fire his left leg into the back of Lerrin’s right knee! Breggan buckles as Edwin’s sharp mule kick forces him to bend his knee, and Edwin launches another! “Again Edwin’s going to that right knee, one weak joint, the only thing that’s keeping him going right now!” The crowd roars, and the third mule kick does it: Lerrin’s leg gives out again and he has to release Edwin to brace himself on the mat! “Edwin’s still in this!” cries Mark with renewed hope, and Edwin charges back for the ropes again! He springs off with added momentum, rushing towards Lerrin, leaping, and pumping his boots out to drive a firm running dropkick into the back of Breggan’s head! “Cheap shot! Cheap shot!” “Shut up, Bobby!” The crowd is roaring as Edwin back rolls to his feet! Lerrin turns, clutching at the back of his skull…and another dropkick from Edwin blasts him across the ring! “We’ve got a major turn around here--Edwin MacPhisto’s on the comeback attack!” Lerrin Breggan clambers to his feet, shaking the ring as he thunders back up for revenge, but instead he turns into a sharp left-hand palm strike to the jaw! Lerrin’s head snaps backwards, and Edwin fires second shotei into the underside of his upturned jaw, knocking him backward towards the ropes! Letting out a roar of his own, Edwin surges forward and leaps towards the faltering Breggan, throwing his leg out…and blasting him up and over the ropes with a springing sidekick! Breggan tries to grab the ropes as he sails over top, but he misses and crashes off to the thin ringside mats below! “Edwin did it! Listen to that crowd, Bobby—Edwin just knocked Lerrin Breggan out of the ring!” “God dammit! JD better get this match under control!” In the ring, JD has a mild conniption, running to the ropes and shouting as the big rookie pulls himself up! “Lerrin! Get the hell up! Get in here and tear Edwin a new--” but the roars of the crowd swell to tremendous levels before JD can finish! Edwin MacPhisto blazes past him in a whirl of color, leaping between the second and third ropes and crashing head-on into Breggan with a powerful tope suicida! “In just a few moments,” shouts Mark Stevens, as Edwin takes it to Lerrin just a few feet in front of him, “our World Champion has proven why he’s got the belt!” JD’s shouting ceaseless profanity from the ring as Edwin grabs Breggan and gives him a forceful whip into the guardrail, flows a kick into Breggan’s gut, and grabs a front facelock! BAM! “DDT! DDT onto the concrete!” “No! No! JD, DQ him! Count him out! This is unnecessary brutality!” “Ah-ah-ah, Riley: this is a no-DQ match! Quit yer bitching!” “Grarr!” Edwin pulls Riley up again and gestures outward to the crowd, giving a potent shout of “Hallelujah!” before hooking another front facelock! Suddenly, a shout comes from in the ring! “Lerrin! Get his fucking hand!” Edwin looks up at JD and suddenly Lerrin’s free hand shoots up…and catches Edwin’s left hand! Breggan clasps his large palm around Edwin’s bandaged wing and squeezes down hard! “Ah! Ah! You big bloody bastard!” A thin layer of red starts to appear on the fresh bandage, and Edwin lets go of the facelock to try and rip Lerrin’s hand off his own! “Breggan’s going after Edwin’s taped-up hand!” shouts Stevens, pounding the announce table. “He’s not just frickin’ huge, Mark! He’s brilliant!” Breggan squeezes away and the crowd boos as Edwin cries out, but Breggan keeps squeezing…and shoots his big knee firmly into Edwin’s gut! Edwin tries to fight through and claw Breggan off with his left hand, but Breggan just swats it away and ducks forward, keeping that right hand firmly locked as he scoops Edwin up onto his shoulders! “Aw, no! Torture rack--” “Nuh-uh!” chimes Riley. “Not just any torture rack! That’s the start of Lerrin Breggan’s--” And with a shocking amount of agility for a man his size, Breggan ducks his head forward and effortlessly flips Edwin’s body around into powerbomb position, holding him there for the briefest of seconds before falling to his knees and driving the Mac Daddy’s upper back into the unyielding concrete with a sheer drop! “—Royal Decision! Breggan just hit one of his most devastating maneuvers, and on the concrete to boot!” Riley cackles briefly as the crowd slings shocked boos. “How do you like them apples, Stevens?” “Not one bit, Bobby! Edwin had a great thing going with his rally on the outside, but this doesn’t look good…” “Roll him in, come on!” shouts Jay Dawg as Lerrin stands, still shaking off a bit of his own dizziness from the DDT. Nonetheless, he manages to drag Edwin’s limp form off the concrete, roll him into the ring, and follow with a lateral press to cover. JD’s already waiting on the mat, and starts the count ASAP… ONE! TWO! THREE! “Ah, dammit! That’s three against Edwin!” …FOUR! FI—and before the damage gets any worse, Edwin gets his shoulder up—but Breggan immediately goes for the wounded right hand, giving it a firm rake before shoving the shoulder back down again! JD dives to count as the fans flip out! ONE! TWO! TH—no! “Edwin beats the three, having recovered just enough!” shouts a relieved Stevens. “That was almost a disaster…” “Almost? Your boy is down 4 counts to none, Mark! Creative Control has a commanding lead in our first ever Canadian Deathmatch!” The fans agree, showering the ring with boos as Breggan pulls Edwin up by the injured right hand before whipping his still-staggering frame to the ropes, then flooring the Mac Daddy with a lackadaisical clothesline on the return. Edwin collapses, still drained from the Royal Decision, and Breggan pulls him straight into a gutwrench…and a big flip onto his shoulders! “Powerbomb! Another powerbomb! Lerrin never lets up!” Edwin tries to retaliate with punches to the head, but Lerrin storms right through…and charges for the ropes. “Oh, lord no…” “Yes! He’s gonna powerbomb him to the outside! The King’s Command!” The crowd is furious as Lerrin pauses by the ring ropes, pushing Edwin, getting ready to slam him over the top—no, as Breggan brings him down, Edwin tightly locks his legs around his captor’s neck! The crowd roars as Lerrin inadvertently brings himself down throat-first over the top rope! Lerrin snaps off the top rope, clutching his throat, and drops Edwin! “Blocked!” shouts Stevens. “Edwin blocked that powerbomb with a headscissors…and he’s got Breggan’s ankle!” Clutching his throat, Breggan is easy prey for Edwin to pull out his ankle and trip him to the mat! Revitalized, Edwin climbs up, signals to the crowd, grabs the top rope…and pulls himself over the ropes and down onto Breggan with a slingshot guillotine legdrop! “Edwin might have something here! Come on JD, be a sport!” Edwin hooks the leg tightly and looks to JD… …who points, and laughs. “AUUUGH!” Edwin lets out a frustrated roar and charges JD, giving him a big shove back into the ropes! JD fires back with a shove of his own, and Edwin suddenly grabs JD by the lapels of his shirt and starts to lift him up! The crowd is ecstatic for the payback, but— “Edwin, turn around!” Too little too late—Edwin finds himself torn off JD and moving upward in the firm military press of Lerrin Breggan! Before Edwin can get his bearings, Breggan brings Edwin crashing down with a monstrous slam! Keeping the assault up, Breggan drops a big elbow on Edwin’s back, then tears him off the canvas clear into a back-to-back lock! The arena thunders with disapproval! “NOW he’s got it!” shouts Riley, as Lerrin twists a helpless Edwin into position for the vertebreaker! “Lerrin’s already got four counts--” “I know, Bobby--” “—and the Kingdom Come is huge--” “I KNOW, Bobby--” And Breggan leaps into the air…and hits the jumping vertebreaker, folding Edwin up like an accordion under an irate steamroller! The Mac Daddy collapses in a heap, hanging on the very borderline between consciousness and blackout. “—and we have got ourselves a new champion!” Breggan rolls over and presses down on Edwin to furious boos, and JD dives to the mat. A brief MacPhisto chant starts up, but quickly fades as the count starts… One. Two. …three. “It’s good! It counts! Lerrin’s at seven!” And JD keeps counting. Four. “He’s at eight!” … Five. The crowd is in shocked disbelief. How could it end this way? “NINE! IT’S OVER!” Six… NO! EDWIN THROWS HIS SHOULDER UP AT THE LAST POSSIBLE SECOND! Lerrin immediately shoves him back down, and JD counts fast! ONE! TWO! THR—Edwin thrashes out—no, Breggan hooks the leg! ONE! TWO! TH—and Edwin kicks out! “Edwin’s still in this!” screams Mark Stevens, vocal cords straining over the deafening crowd noise. “He’s down 9 counts to 0, but by god I’ll be damned if that means he’s giving up!” Breggan shouts at JD to count faster next time and rises to his feet, dragging Edwin up behind him. Lerrin steadies Edwin…and then floors him again with a big haymaker! Edwin drops like a sack of doorknobs in a gravity well, and Lerrin pounces on him pounds away with mounted punches—no, Edwin rakes Lerrin across the eyes and throws him off! The crowd cheers wildly as Edwin kips-up and beckons Lerrin to bring it! And bring it Lerrin does, charging forward and swinging fist after fist in a wild brawl with the equally ferocious MacPhisto! “CC may be trying to break Edwin, but the champ has Lerrin near his own breaking point: the usually reserved technical giant is devolving into violent, careless brawling!” Indeed, Lerrin’s getting a lot of hits on Edwin, but he’s taking a lot on his end too. JD is baffled, trying to figure out what the hell he can do. Edwin keeps resisting Breggan, sending electric jab after jab into the big man’s ribs, but powerful Lerrin keeps his haymakers and body blows coming, driving Edwin back into a corner! Without anywhere to go, Edwin’s in trouble…and then Lerrin feeds him a stiff kneelift! Edwin sputters from the shot and Lerrin backs up! JD shouts words of encouragement as Breggan makes a target with his fingers, then barrels forward! “Huge splash from Lerrin, Edwin’s about to get crushed!” cries Riley. Breggan thunders towards his target… …and as he arrives, his eyes bug out and he lets out a pained gasp. Why, you ask? Because there’s a pesky ladder-laced Doc Marten boot driving itself right into his crotch. “REVERSAL! REVERSAL!” shouts Stevens, and the crowd explodes! Breggan clutches at his groin, and Edwin catches his breath and stumbles forward! “Reversal? He kicked him in the balls!” “Anything goes, Bobby—anything goes!” JD’s shouting expletives, but Edwin ignores as he quickly slaps a facelock on the stunned Lerrin! He pumps his fist towards the turnbuckle, and the crowd gets even louder as Edwin dashes, hopping to the bottom buckle, the second, the third…and kicking off the top, bringing Lerrin’s fazed form out to the center of the ring… …and hitting the Tornado stunner! “SPINAL TAP! SPINAL TAP! Lerrin’s got to be out!” blares Stevens! Edwin hooks the leg and the crowd’s response is immense! He looks up to JD! “For god’s sakes, cut me a bloody break, you ridiculous loon!” “Fuck you, Edwin! You’ve been on top too long, and we’re here to take you the fuck out!” “God dammit!” shouts Stevens. “If it weren’t for JD’s cheating, Edwin would have had this won long ago!” “Hey now!” snaps Riley. “Bitch all you want about JD, but you can’t take shit away from Lerrin Breggan! All JD’s done is keep Edwin from scoring any pins of his own—Lerrin’s gotten two lengthy falls on our world champion, and he did it clean! Get off your bias train for just one moment, Mark!” Edwin glares at JD, not saying a word. The crowd is roaring with noise, eager for a brawl…and Edwin takes a deep breath. He grins, and nobly turns his back on JD and returns to the match. “Way to be the bigger man, Edwin--” Edwin takes a step forward, and then another, but the disposition of the crowd sinks as JD comes at him with a bum rush from behind— CRACK. The arena falls silent. Edwin stands tall, still facing forward. Behind him, JD staggers. “H-holy shit.” Stevens can’t believe it. “That was…that had to be the stiffest elbow shot I’ve ever seen.” The mood has changed. A thin, trickle of blood slides out of JD’s nostril. He stands for a moment…and then collapses to the mat. Half the crowd explodes, and the other half stares silently. “Jesus! Jesus! Where the hell did MacPhisto pull that out of?” screams Riley. Across the ring, Lerrin Breggan has gotten to his feet, and he stares drop-jawed at his crumpled tag partner. “You said it yourself, Riley,” says Stevens grimly. “Creative Control wanted to be the ones to break Edwin MacPhisto. Now they have to eat what they ordered…” Edwin stands in the center of the ring, breathing heavily, almost perfectly still as Lerrin Breggan comes charging forward in a rage— SNAP. Breggan staggers backward as Edwin’s boot sails up and into his throat. SNAP. “Snap high kicks from Edwin…right into Breggan’s throat! Jesus!” The fans are on their feet as Breggan topples forward, and Edwin catches him with a slick drop toehold, drilling him facefirst into the mat! “What the hell is going on here? Edwin’s suddenly ripping Lerrin apart!” screams Riley. “He’s had enough, Bobby! He knows this match is bullshit as much as we do, and the last thing you want to do is crack a very stressed individu—dragon sleeper, dragon sleeper!” Stevens cuts himself off as Edwin wrenches Breggan up off the mat into a dragon sleeper, hooks Lerrin’s leg with his own…and falls backward, drilling him into the mat with the dragon-sleeper Russian-legsweep! MacPhisto immediately pulls Lerrin up again, maintaining the dragon sleeper…WHAM! “Another dragon sweeper! Even Breggan has to be feeling this—ANOTHER! Edwin’s gone over the edge!” The Mac Daddy slams Breggan backwards with a THIRD legsweep, then picks him up one more time, a blend of rage and determination etched across his face. He drags the limp King across the ring, lining him up in front of the ringpost. “Oh, no, Edwin,” says Stevens. “Don’t do this.” Too late. CLANG. The fourth and final legsweep drills Lerrin Breggan’s head straight into the cold steel, and the big man looks to be out cold! Edwin turns away from Breggan for a moment…and Jay Dawg comes charging in for revenge! Uh-uh. WHUMP. The stiff boot of Edwin MacPhisto finds it way to the back of JD’s head as the champion leaps with a brutal enzuigiri. Dawg collapses again, but Edwin is on him, pulling him into a facelock and a vertical suplex as the crowd keeps cheering! “Why are they cheering?” shouts Riley. “He’s flipping out!” “True, but these two have had it coming…haven’t they?” There’s a little doubt in Stevens’s voice as Edwin holds JD high with the suplex…and suddenly drops straight down, drilling him with a brainbuster! “Brainbuster! Edwin dropped him right on his head!” But that’s not enough. Edwin picks JD up into another vertical suplex…and again, falls straight back, crushing the hardcore champion’s skull into the mat. And then…he does it a third time. The ring shakes with violence. “Brainbusters-a-go-go!” shouts Stevens, trying to make light of the situation. But as Edwin lifts JD up for a fourth consecutive brainbuster, stalling on this one, it’s clear that a switch has been flipped. “Riley…something’s terribly wrong here…” CRUNCH. Edwin spins and makes this brainbuster a corkscrew variant. Four brainbusters. JD is a limp wreck…and Edwin isn’t through with him. Edwin hoists JD up and positions his own back towards the center of the ring, lining Jay Dawg up in a back-to-back armlock. “Encore Cross! Jay Dawg must be wishing he never put on that referee’s shirt!” Edwin holds the back-to-back lock…and then, changes things up from the norm. The crowd keeps cheering, but they’re seeing something new…the champion shoves his hands under JD’s arms and bends at the knees, tossing his victim up over his right shoulder, holding him there in a Canadian backbreaker rack, head dangling in front of Edwin’s chest. “This is new…” wonders Stevens, and suddenly Edwin turns 180 degrees towards the center of the ring, takes two running steps…and leaps. “Oh god.” Edwin preps his knees for the landing, and as he descends, he flips Jay Dawg forward…and down. Right in front of a waking Lerrin Breggan. The unprotected piledriver takes Jay Dawg directly on the top of his head, and the hardcore champion stops moving. “Holy shit.” “Mark…that was…” The fans love it. “MAC-PHIST-OOOOO!” “MAC-PHIST-OOOOO!” “What the hell? How can they cheer…” Breggan staggers to his feet, his jaw gaping as Edwin rises in front of him. The rookie charges forward screaming…and Edwin meets him with stiff shotei. Breggan spins around 180 degrees, and Edwin quickly spins his back to the big man, locking their arms together… “He couldn’t!” shouts Riley! “There’s no way--” And the entire Halifax Center gasps as Edwin MacPhisto vaults Lerrin Breggan up over his right shoulder, spins…and takes two dashing steps forward. Lerrin Breggan takes his Canadian backbreaker rack piledriver right next to Jay Dawg. He has also stopped moving. The fans are a little less certain of what they think now. “That move…” gapes Stevens. “That was…incredible.” As Edwin kneels between the two men, he lifts each man’s hand into the air, then releases. One time. He does it again, and referees flood out the back. Two times. Edwin lifts the hands once more as Matty Kivell dives into the ring…and, very calmly and quietly, he lets them drop. Three times. The crowd roars…decidedly mixed…and Edwin slides out of the ring, towards Funyon, past the stunned announcers, past the astonished front-row fans. The ring announcer hands his microphone over, shaking…and Edwin speaks in a rough, battle-worn voice. “To all of you…but especially Wilson…Wilson. Chrissy Stardust? Can you hear me, Christopher? Do you see them?” Edwin points towards the ring, raising his voice. “You see Breggan? You see JD?” Pause. “I don’t. I see you.” “Is this a message to Wilson?!” questions Stevens. “It’s got to be more than that…” “This is what happens when you screw with the Joker one time too many, Wilson. You dig up the worst stuff you can find, and you get what’s coming to you. See you on Sunday, Chris. Until then…have a nice week, will you? Here, Funyon. Make it official, why don’t you?” Edwin hands the microphone over to Funyon and collects his two title belts, and senior referee Matty Kivell signals to Funyon…. “As a result of the challenger being unable to continue the match…your SWF World Heavyweight Champion remains…Edwin MacPhistOOOOO!” “Battleflag” begins to blare as Edwin walks up ringside, a title belt over each shoulder as he ascends the ring ramp, slapping hands with the fans who’ll oblige. “We’ve just seem something phenomenal, folks,” says Mark Stevens, “and I don’t really know what to make of it. The odds were stacked against Edwin MacPhisto, totally and utterly…and the machinations of Creative Control forced him to take drastic measures. Jay Dawg and Lerrin Breggan are out cold after an absolutely barbaric assault, culminating in those stiff piledrivers…and Edwin MacPhisto is still our champion heading into Ground Zero…and Wargames! We’ll see you on Sunday, folks—for Bobby Riley, I’m Mark Stevens, and this has been SWF Smarkdown!” Stevens grins into the camera, but it doesn’t cut away quickly enough…it catches the downturn of his lips and the frightened stare past the ring, to the man he once tagged with, grinning it up as he backstruts up the ramp. We fade to black on a shot of Edwin MacPhisto, tired, worn-down, but somehow triumphant tonight, staring into the camera. He purses his lips, and mouths two words before we fade. “I’m waiting.”

Nah, he would have brought out stuff that HotPandaLuv has too much journalistic integrity to report, like The Masked Man actually being horribly disfigured, or Mike Van Siclen being Mak Francis's Mommy.

Geez, I thought we were just low on HOT NEWZ.

Nah, I just offered a reasonable conjecture about the level of scrutiny applied to the material that goes into Foley's books. I wouldn't bet the farm on either of them, and I'm guessing the actual story is somewhere in between, but Honky's proven in the past to be a blowhard anyway. That's the thing. He's not a liar so much as a foghorn shouting his own name over and over, louder every time, and yet no one hears it.

Rush rules. We're doing badly enough in the wake of two consecutive Rush fans.

Oh Alyson, say it ain't so.

MAIN EVENT SIX-MAN MADNESS~! Toxxic, Tom Flesher, and Ace Lezaire vs. Nathanial Kibagami, Dace Night, and Ryan Dustin - NP IMMEDIATE TITLE SHOT CASH-IN OF DOOM FOR THE ICTV TITLE~! Janus vs. Johnny Dangerous - Janice MYSTERIOUS MAN CONTINUES TRAIL OF DEATH… OR DOES HE~!? “Deathwish” Danny Williams vs. Masked Man - Williams FOUR-WAY ELIMINATION NO-DQ WACKINESS FOR THE CRUISERWEIGHT TITLE NO. 1 CONTENDERSHIP~! Crow vs. “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins vs. Jimmy “The Demon” Liston vs. Todd Cortez - Cerebral Cortez FOLLOW-UP FRAY~! David Blazenwing vs. Insane Luchadore - Luchawhore OPENING ONSLAUGHT~! Tryst vs. Munich - Munchie

Oh, that's just an old wives' tale. Yeah, I think Dace's issue with the match wasn't the head-to-head, smash-mouth "Rar I hate matches that focus on the writing" that you seem to be implying. It's more that Dace is pretty gifted in the psychology department and something jumped out at him. You're correct in pointing out that all of the writers deal with the writing/wrestling balance differently, but as you say, the best SWFers are going to be good with both. That's the purpose of the comments thread, as far as I'm concerned. It's a critique, not a slap on the back for participating. If you're weak on psych, then you're only going to get better if you can understand why a particular development of the match works or doesn't work.

Really, at this point, it's just him. Possibly Z-Man, too, if they've got a mutual admiration society going. I can just imagine Honky and Zenk out at a bar, sitting together, nursing beers and talking about the good old days.