Ace309

FADE IN… No big explosions tonight, as the disembodied voice of ‘The Franchise’ Mak Francis rings in the SWF New Year! “Fans we are live in the sold out HSBC Arena, here in Buffalo, New York and welcome to SWF Storm!” Mak Francis announces. “I’m Mak Francis, here alongside the Suicide King and we’ve got a hell of a show in store for our first of the New Year!” “Tom Flesher speaks out in his return to his hometown of Buffalo, New York, at the top of our second hour!” King proclaims. “And I’m sure the Superior One will give some new years resolutions to shrive for, even though we mere mortals can’t hope to achieve our own meager pledges!” “Right.” Is the Franchise’s clipped response to that one. “We’ve also got the new number one contender to the SWF World Title in action and on the mic… ‘Mr. Cold Front Classic’ himself, JJ Johnson!” “Speaking of the World Title, Francis, we’re going to open 2007 with a celebration that’ll put New Years in Times Square to shame!” “And with that eloquent segue, it’s now time to…” Francis begins, seemingly disgusted with what he has to say next, “pay our respects to the new World Heavyweight Champ, who in something of a shocker dethroned Michael Stephens in the last SWF match of 2006.” “Shocker my ass! You people are all fools, because I made more money on that match than betting against those Boomer Sooners in the Fiesta Bowl!” King declares. “And I’m sure the champ loved watching the Capital One bowl just as much as I did! Georgia kicked ass and took names… Puppy Power!” While Mak ponders on if this King has been replaced by another, more ‘puppy’ friendly one, the camera cuts to the ring where everyone’s favorite lanky snack treat sits at the ready… “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,” Funyon booms, having to shout to make himself heard over the deafening jeers in the enclosed area, “please welcome your NEEEEEEWWWWWWWW SWF World Heavyweight Champion… the ‘BEAST’, GAAAAAAB-RI-EELLLLLL… DRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAKKKKKKKKKEEEEEEEE!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOO!” Suddenly, the Smarktron flares to life, flashes from The Beasts debut vignettes splashing across the screen, as the deliberate strum of ‘The Devil’s Rejects’ begins to build to a crescendo. Gabriel Drake’s two cold hazel eyes stare out from the Smarktron, an amused sneer crossing his face for a second before one hand reaches out and grips presumably the camera. The picture shakes violently, then blurs and cuts to black as the camera is apparently thrown into a wall. Meanwhile, the slow melody continues and the atmosphere is even amplified by the eerie menacing blue light and the flickering of several white strobes cutting across the darkened arena, until finally… “JAAAAAIIIIIL-BIIIIIRD!” …through all the bright lights, glitz and glammer; face framed by his black hair with white highlights… “JAAAAAIIIIIL-BIIIIIRD!” …with the newly won SWF World Title wrapped around his waist… “JAAAAAIIIIIL-BIIIIIRD!” …Gabriel Drake himself appears through the curtain. “I am the bad one… Distant and cruel one… I am the dream that, keeps you running down!” Hearing the opening lyrics of the Rob Zombie song, Drake pauses on the stage for a moment, looking around the arena spotting each and every single fan attempting to taunt him as mercilessly as they can! Gabe smiles wide and then proceeds to saunter down towards ringside. “His music claims he’s a bad guy and I’d tend to agree.” Mak Francis starts. “He’s violent and cruel, but hell has officially frozen over because he is the SWF World Heavyweight Champion…” “With distraction… Violent reactions… Scars of my actions, watch me running out!” The Smarktron behind him continues to flash scenes from famous wars and bits of destruction while showing him hitting a Musclebuster on Michael Cross, twisting Akira’s broken body in the Spite and Malice and deforming Landon Maddix’s feature by tossing him into a Steel Cage interspersed… “HELL DOESN’T WANT THEM! HELL DOESN’T NEED THEM! HELL DOESN’T LOVE THEM!” …Until a final picture of the newly infamous leap off the second rope with Michael Stephens in tow, compacting his jaw with a sickening Mark of the Beast! Now at ringside, Drake gets to the ring steps and bounces on his toes before high stepping up the stairs and onto the apron! Walking to the center, he brings his hands down to frame the World Title on his waist and leans back, living in the moment! “The Devil's Rejects… The Devil’s Rejects…” The music slowly begins to fade, as Gabe wipes his feet before swinging his legs through the ropes. Standing center ring, he takes the microphone from Funyon who beats a hasty retreat! Shaking out his arm with the mic, the crowd continues to boo while Gabe shakes his head and waggles his finger then waits for a second, letting the crowd settle somewhat before pointing up… …Cue the big explosions that were missing earlier… *BANG! BANG! BOOM!* *BUH-BUH-BUH-BUH-BOOOOOOMMM!!* *FWISH-BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!* *FWISH-BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!* *FWISH-BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!* *KAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!* “HAPPY NEW YEARS!” Gabe shouts his smile larger than life. “Come on—sing along people!” Auld Lang Syne by Robert Burns bellows out of the PA system, causing the crowd to boo even more heavily! Then suddenly, as Drake seems to be warming up his voice, a torrent of confetti falls from the rafters floating down over the audience and covering them with the celebratory paper!! “What the hell is this… a ticker-tape parade?” “This is freakin’ BRILLANT!” Bringing the mic up to his lips Gabe and King (and Gabe and King only) begin to sing- “Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And auld lang syne?” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO !” -and as you would expect the crowd will have no part of it! Drake, probably because no one knows the rest of the lyrics to the song, stops his dulcet tones and signals for the music to be cut. “Check out the name plate boys and girls, cause it’s official…” Drake starts pointing to the plaque on the World Title. Slowly dragging his finger underneath the brand new nameplate with his name “Gabriel Drake is the man!” Buffalo didn’t enjoy his little parade too much so- “YOU SUCK!” “YOU SUCK!” “YOU SUCK!” “YOU SUCK!” -he is bombarded with a new wave of vicious chants meant to shut him up!! Drake looks mock affronted as he acts as if he’s brushing away a single tear and then goes to speak again- “YOU SUCK!” “YOU SUCK!” “YOU SUCK!” “YOU SUCK!” -only to get it louder and harder than before if that was possible!!! “Heh, these fans won’t even let the new champ get a word in edgewise!” “Don’t think you can get to me tonight!” Gabe shouts over the crowd. “I’m your World Heavyweight Champion and as such I can just sit here until you decide to shut the hell up because I run this joint!” …And then Drake literally sits in the middle of the ring! “You’ve GOT to be kidding me?!” The crowd would tend to agree with the incredulous Mak Francis: “YOU SUCK!” “YOU SUCK!” “YOU SUCK!” “YOU SUCK!” “YOU SUCK!” “YOU SUCK!” “Why?” King asks. “If these peons can’t respect their World Champ then they should be taught a lesson!” “He’s basically decided to hold the arena hostage, King!” “And your point is…?” The fans continue to jeer for a good minute and thirty second, but as Gabe begins to check his fingernails and nobody is doing anything to stop him most of them start to quiet down. The rowdy remnants of the audience that won’t give up just keep on booing as best the can. Finally, after another full minute of nothing but Gabe drawing in the confetti, all but a lone voice quiet down. “NOBODY CARES WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY!” “Oh, you’ll care!” Drake says shouting down the lone heckler. “And you’ll listen to every word and like it, because I’m the man around this joint! I’m the NEW World Heavyweight Champ and I’ll sit right here until I have my say!” Finally, the crowd quiets as completely as it’s gonna’ get. “Thank you.” Gabe starts. “As I was saying it’s been a long time coming, but I finally made my dreams come true! I don’t even need a New Years Resolution because I’ve accomplished the one thing I set out to do. Prove that Toxxic is not the best this business has to offer!” “When I grabbed him from that top rope and drove his jaw into my shoulder it was nearly five years in the making! Five years worth of broken promises and backstabbing were finally paid back in full and even though Livvy and Karl couldn’t be there to see I know their thoughts and prayers were with me!” “This from the guy that attacked Livvy Luscious in her only referee appearance here in the SWF and many people believe broke Karl Winter’s leg…” Mak’s comment seems to be on the button, as the disingenuous tone from Drake would indicate. “I had a little run-in with the former World Champ earlier today and he had the nerve to say that the world doesn’t stop when I say so… well I think I just proved him wrong!” Drake says, laughing at his show of power over the crowd. “I heard that cripple at the announce table coined the phrase that this is the Year of the Beast. I like that. I like it a lot, because I’m finally through chasing Toxxic and it’s finally all about m-” “RRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!” The crowd quite simply explodes at the thought of somebody out here to shut Drake up!! And that man they’re heralding is none other than JJ Johnson!!! “Uh-oh!” Drake says simpering. “Oh no, here comes Mr. Number one contender himself. So what, you won that joke of a tournament the Cold Front Classic! The only reason you won was because I was too busy winning the World Title to actually bother with it!” “A little bit of revisionist’s history.” Mak notes as JJ continues to walk down the ramp with a purpose, his eyes pointing straight ahead on the World Title belt and only the World Title. “Haven’t you ever heard the term history is written by the winners?” King retorts. “Well, who won and who lost, Francis?” “You think you can intimidate me you vanilla midget!” Gabriel shouts out as the crowd all applaud Johnson’s attempt to stop this hostile takeover. “I’ve had this happen before.” JJ slides into the ring and pops to his feet, not a motion wasted or a word said. Standing face to face with the Beast, Johnson tilts his head to the side and raises an eyebrow at the World Champ’s taunts. “I’ve had people try to come out and interrupt me and it didn’t work out so well for them at the Pay-per-view,” Gabe relays, sticking a finger in Johnson’s face, “so I suggest you go get ready for your match and think up some scary speech for the House of Marvelous cause I don’t sweat you one bit!” The crowd decides to voice their opinions on the matter: “JOHNSON’S GONNA KILL YOU!” “JOHNSON’S GONNA KILL YOU!” “JOHNSON’S GONNA KILL YOU!” “Yeah,” Drake sneers, lowering his eyes to the belt JJ’s eyeing up. Gabe laughs, polishing the nameplate while scoffing in the face of that threat, “I’m sure he’ll really kil-” *CEEEEEE-RACK!* “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!” Down goes Drake, falling to the canvas like a ton of bricks, while JJ just stands over him! Looking down, Johnson shakes head and then immediately turns his back on Gabe, walking out of the ring! “He can’t do that!” King screams, as JJ steadily walks up the ramp, his eyes still staring straight ahead. “HE CAN’T DO THAT!” “I think he just did, King!” Mak crows. “With one elbow the new number one contender has done what everyone in this arena wanted to do. Knock Gabriel Drake the fu-*bleep* out!” As JJ walks through the curtain the only thing Gabe can hear is the crowd: “JOHNSON’S GONNA KILL YOU!” “JOHNSON’S GONNA KILL YOU!” “JOHNSON’S GONNA KILL YOU!” But they got it wrong. Sitting up red faced, from embarrassment or anger no bodies quite sure, Gabe slowly massages his jaw and is the only one who looks like he’s going to kill someone as we: FADE…

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SWF STORM Live, Wednesday, January 3, from the HSBC ARENA in BUFFALO, NEW YORK! (7pm PST, 10pm EST; check local listings) (Send all promos/marked matches to Ace309) -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Pre-intermission Promo: Tom Flesher -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Opening Promo: SWF WORLD HEAVWEIGHT CHAMPION GABRIEL DRAKE! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- That's right, it's a promo show! After Crimson Yuletide, the SWF superstars have a lot of business to cover, so Joe Peters has gone ahead and given everyone the option of coming to the ring and saying his piece! If, of course, some rivals still have scores to settle, then the ring will be available.

HSBC Arena Buffalo, New York Shortly before Storm Gabriel Drake pauses in front of the door, looking at it appreciatively. Sure, the door itself is nothing special, but the nameplate on it, well... that's someting entirely different. With a smile on his lips The Beast fits his key to the lock and opens it, stepping into his personal locker. The door swings shut again leaving the nameplate to proudly shout to the world: GABRIEL DRAKE SWF WORLD CHAMPION *snik* Drake walks in and flicks the light on, puts his bag down and- *snik* -the lights go off. "What the-?" "You're not afraid of the dark, are you?" a familiar voice says from behind him. Drake spins around and as he does so the lights come on again, revealing a man with one black-nailed finger on the switch, a man Drake instantly recognises. "Toxxic!" he snarls, "what the hell- how did you get in here?" he demands, one question overtaking the other. "What's that?" Michael Stephens asks, grinning at him, "no blood-curdling roar, no frenzied rush? I almost didn't recognise you Gabe. Don't tell me you've gone soft over Christmas." "How. Did. You. Get. In?" Drake bites out, pointing a finger at his former friend. Stephens just laughs. "You know Gabe, in a building like this there's always at least one man with a skeleton key," he informs the World Champion, "and guess what? For some perverse reason they so rarely get a chance to socialise with an attractive blonde like Megan Skye. Can't blame the guy for being a bit distracted." Stephens spins the keyring around on his finger. "Don't worry, I'll give it back." "Megan hates you," Drake retorts, "even I know that." "True," Stephens concedes, "but she pretty much does what Landon tells her, and Landon doesn't like you much more than I do, sunshine. A five minute chat with a janitor wasn't too much of a burden for her." "What do you want, Toxxic?" Drake demands, "or did you just sneak in here hoping you could steal the World Title back?" "Ah, the World Title," Stephens smiles, "yeah, about that... what with you practically knocking me out and everything I never got the chance to congratulate you." "What?" Drake says, head tilting to one side, uncertain if he heard correctly. "Yeah, congratulations," Mike continues, "well done mate. You wrestled the match of your life." Drake looks at him. Stephens holds his gaze, with none of the hesitation he's shown before. Almost as if, Gabe thinks, that Stephens now knows where they stand when he didn't before, and has adjusted himself. Slowly, the Beast shakes his head. "No. You didn't come here to congratulate me Toxx. Last chance. What do you want?" "Heavy, isn't it?" the Englishman replies. Gabe's brow wrinkles. "What?" "The title," Stephens says. "Heavier than you think. You'll find that out. You're the man now Gabe, the one to beat." He grin widens and he spreads his arms expansively. "Welcome to the world where everyone's gunning for you." "Will it be harder than four years in prison?" Drake snorts. "Get out of here Toxx. You're washed up now, you're nothing special," he pauses to savour the word, "anymore." "So what's your plan?" Stephens persists, "what are you going to do now? What's the next trick?" "What?" Drake demands, "hey, I beat you! I don't need to do anything else! I took your title, the World Title! I did what no-one else has been able to do this year, I pinned you! This is my world now, it's all about me!" He's nearly shouting as he finishes... but Michael Stephens still holds his gaze, and that goddamn grin is still there. "Newsflash sunshine, the world hasn't stopped," Stephens tells him. "I'm still here, and just like I've always said; you can never really beat me, you can only put off losing a while longer. See, there's this thing called the Clusterfuck, the winner gets a World Title shot at From The Fire?" He places one fist into his other hand and squeezes until the knuckles crack. "In 2004 I missed it by one show. In 2005 I was wrestling Dace Night, and in 2006 I was in," he pauses for a moment and screws his face up in recollection, "Thailand, I think. I'm here this year, and I've got a very free calendar." "You're trying to tell me you're going to win the Clusterfuck?" Drake snorts, "that's good Toxx. And it doesn't matter even if you do, because-" "-ah, but don't forget JJ," Stephens cuts him off, "he's first in line for a title shot. He's not like me, Gabe. He won't bother talking to you, he'll just hit you." "You beat Johnson, I beat you," Drake says, "end of story." "Yeah?" Stephens asks, raising his eyebrows. "Well, think on this; Landon beat you... and JJ beat Landon." He grins again. "Nothing's certain when you get to this level Gabe, except that if you go into the ring with JJ you'll be lucky if you can move your jaw enough to eat for a week after. I swear that guy's elbows are tipped with titanium." "So that's it?" Drake asks when Stephens doesn't say anything else, "that's why you snuck in here? To tell me you plan on winning the Clusterfuck, and warn me about how hard one of your old sidekicks hits? Pathetic." He flips one hand in a shooing motion. "Go on, run back to your Tag Title, run back to your best buddy Landon and your alcoholic sister. Get used to life in the midcard, because it's where you belong and it's where you're staying." He deliberately turns his back on the other man and opens his bag. He knows Stephens won't jump him, and if he does, well that's an armour-plated excuse for a little more- *click* Drake looks around, brow furrowing. The door has opened and swung shut again, and of Michael Stephens there is no sign. No smart remark, no parting shot, no catchphrase forced unnaturally into the conversation; just absence. For someone who spent as long as he did training and socialising with the man, enduring his insistence on always having the last word, it's... odd. "Should've just punched him," Drake mutters, and starts unpacking his stuff.

Have I mentioned that I love the irony of a Disney-sponsored wrestler being a heel?

We were actually talking about doing a South American tour, a la the tour we took of Canuckistan last year.

As always, post your stats here!

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- SWF STORM Live, Wednesday, January 3, from the HSBC ARENA in BUFFALO, NEW YORK! (7pm PST, 10pm EST; check local listings) (Send all promos/marked matches to Ace309) -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- MAIN EVENT: In the House of Marvelous, JJ Johnson, Mister Cold Front Classic! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Pre-intermission Promo: Tom Flesher -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- In the ring, JJ Johnson~! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Opening Promo: SWF WORLD HEAVWEIGHT CHAMPION GABRIEL DRAKE! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- That's right, it's a promo show! After Crimson Yuletide, the SWF superstars have a lot of business to cover, so Joe Peters has gone ahead and given everyone the option of coming to the ring and saying his piece! If, of course, some rivals still have scores to settle, then the ring will be available. If you want a match, go ahead and book it. Otherwise, I'd like to see a promo from everyone this time around.

RINGING IN THE NEW YEAR TOUR 2007 January 3 - SWF Storm, Live from the HSBC Arena in Buffalo, New York! January 10 - SWF Storm, Live from Madison Square Garden in New York, New York! January 17 - SWF Storm, Live from the 1st Mariner Arena in Baltimore, Maryland! January 24 - SWF Storm, Live from the Phillips Arena in Atlanta, Georgia! January 31 - SWF Clusterfuck, Live from the MEMPHIS PYRAMID! Tour Name and Locations TBA February 7 - SWF Storm February 14 - SWF Storm Februaty 21 - SWF Storm February 28 - SWF Storm March 7 - SWF Storm March 14 - SWF Storm March 21 - SWF Storm March 28 - SWF From the Fire Tour name and locations TBA April 4 - SWF Storm April 11 - SWF Storm April 18 - SWF Storm April 25 - SWF Storm May 2 - SWF Storm May 9 - SWF Storm May 16 - SWF Storm May 23 - SWF Storm May 30 - SWF 13th Hour WORLD TOUR LEG ONE: ASIA AND AFRICA June 6 - SWF Storm June 13 - SWF Storm June 20 - SWF Storm June 27 - SWF Storm THURSDAY, July 5 - SWF Lockdown: Tribute to the Troops (tape delay) July 11 - SWF Storm July 18 - SWF Storm July 25 - SWF Storm August 1 - SWF Ground Zero WORLD TOUR LEG TWO: EUROPE August 8 - SWF Storm August 15 - SWF Storm August 22 - SWF Storm August 29 - SWF Storm September 5 - SWF Storm September 12 - SWF Storm September 19 - SWF Storm September 26 - SWF Storm October 3 - SWF Genesis VIII HOLIDAY TOUR October 10 - SWF Storm October 17 - SWF Storm October 24 - SWF Storm October 31 - SWF Storm November 7 - SWF Storm November 14 - SWF Storm November 21 - SWF Storm November 28 - SWF Storm December 5 - SWF Storm December 12 - SWF Storm December 19 - SWF Christmas Pay Per View

CFC Finals are up~!

I gave Clark advice, so I can't mark that match

Annnnnnnnd happy birthday to Lightning Flik!

Promo show on the 3rd.

Victor Herzog vs. Insane Luchador ~ Well, it’s a match, and it sets up the Canadian Deathmatch at the PPV. Alan Clark in the back ~ Sets up a contingency plan for the PPV, which is rare, and it justifies Clark’s participation in the triple threat. Here’s hoping it gets written well. My own match ~ It’s a shame this was a no-show. Clark vs. Zyon ~ Clark was surprisingly resilient here. It was a Perfectly Acceptable Implementation of Zyon going to the well one too many times, though. Congrats to Clark for winning the Cruiserweight Title again. The House of Marvelous ~ Straight singles, huh? Interesting. This is going to be a great match to read – lots of potential for psych. Jay Hawke forfeits ~ This is a shame. I was hoping to see Hawke being as sneaky and cowardly as he could in this one. JJ Johnson vs. Dev Benson ~ It’s a shame this was a no-show. Akira vs. Johnny ~ It’s a shame this was a no-show. We’re all saving up for the PPV, right? RIGHT?!

Relevant rules have been added. A Canadian Death Match has only one rule: 'Tom wins.'

Sometimes there's just not much to be said. I felt like Mike just outwrote you on that one.

Yup, just a case of mistaken identity. Sorry 'bout that.

For those of you who are out of the loop, Annie's revelation is that she's actually biologically male and is planning on having the big cut done at some point in the future. She recently began hormone therapy. The MySpace blog link was an attempt to link to her personal blog, but she screwed it up. Now, back to the dildo jokes.

You're unauthorized because of e.coli danger. God damn uncooked meat. In any case, yay for bizarre link issues. I guess what the titular Annie is saying is... there's a little bit of Annie in all of us.

You've got an excuse.

Markers up

Saturnalia/

I dip ground espresso.

I wanted to book a HoM, but I didn't want to force you to write. Please please use the House of Marvelous.

Allison is tuning up her vocal cords.