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The Smarks Wrestling Federation presents: Lockdown, a SWF production, returns from a commercial for Toxxic’s Bloody Mascara - “Guaranteed not to run, even with blood pouring down your face.” Ex-convict and current camera man Jimmy Phelps pans around the crowded Pepsi (Max) Center in Denver, showcasing such signs as “MANSONOSITY GOT ME PREGNANT” and “Moses Torah > Mohammed Koran” before stopping in front of the Suicide King and Longdogger Pete. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to Lockdown, live from the Pepsi (Max) Center in beautiful Denver, Colorado!” Pete shills like the face he is. “Are you kidding? The only good thing about being in Denver is leaving it once this show is over with!” King quips. “Folks, I assure you that my commentating partner’s words are not those of the Smarks Wrestling Federation’s, and have been brought on due to numerous blows to the head from Edwin MacPhisto,” Longdogger explains. “We’ve already had an impressive tag team match which saw Arch Griffon team with Manson to take on Austin Sly and Mohammed Koran, and let me tell you, the action is just going to keep building from there. We’ve got ‘the Critic’ Scott Pretzler taking on Ejiro Fasaki and for the main event, Wildchild versus Landon Maddix. But right now, we’ve got two very impressive rookies squaring off. Lil’ Buck and JJ Johnson, now!” Pete shouts. The lights begin to flash red and white as Stereomud’s “End of Everything” is cued up. “Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Windsor, Ontario, Canada, weighing in at two hundred, nineteen pounds, he is a member of Revolution Zero, and is the current Hardcore Gamer’s champion, JAAY JAAY JOHNSON!” Funyon roars out over the booing crowd. Sparks matching the lights spew from the floor and shower down from the ceiling, as Johnson steps out, title belt wrapped around his waist. He pauses on the stage, arms stretched out in the completely played-out crucifix pose. JJ walks down the ramp, reaches the ring steps and throws his hood back as white sparks spout from the turnbuckles. J cubed climbs into the ring and hops onto the second turnbuckle, arms out for another crucifix pose. JJ hops down, removes his robe and his title belt and stashes both underneath a corner as the Hardcore Gamer’s championship is not on the line tonight. Johnson makes his way to the far side of the ring, waiting for Lil’ Buck to arrive. “And his opponent, from Lanett, Alabama, he weighs in at two hundred, seventy pounds, Sugarhill’s Finest, LIIL’ BUCK!” Funyon shouts. Crime Mob’s “Knuck if You Buck” thumps over the speakers as Buck makes his way out onto the stage, bejeweled pimp cup in hand. He slowly walks down the ramp, pausing to pop the collar of his Alex English throwback, which garners him a bit of a cheap pop from the Denver crowd. The Gangsta of Love sets his cup down on the apron, slides into the ring, and pulls off his jersey. Buck hands the cup and jersey to Funyon for safe keeping while referee Anthony Michael Hall checks both men for concealed weapons. With his search turning up nothing, Hall calls for the bell. DING! DING! DING! “And this match is underway! It should be a good contest, as JJ Johnson has a definite speed advantage, while Lil’ Buck is easily the stronger of the two,” Longdogger points out. “Yeah, but JJ Johnson is strong in his own right, while Lil’ Buck is a slug. Let me put it in layman’s terms for you, Pete, Johnson is well-rounded. He’s got a good mix of speed and strength, while Lil’ Buck has only his strength to go on. Johnson will have him on his back within five minutes, mark my words,” King states confidently. Johnson begins circling, trying to find a moment to strike, while Buck stays in the middle of the ring. Throwing caution to the wind, JJ charges in and locks up with Lil’ Buck in the traditional collar-and-elbow tie up. In a decidedly non-traditional move, Buck fires off a kick to Johnson’s knee, and no doubt if he could speak, JJ would utter a cry of pain. “Oh, come on, ref! Lil’ Buck is a damn thug, with no respect for traditional wrestling. We saw it last week on Storm against ‘the Critic’ Scott Pretzler, and we’re seeing it again here tonight!” King laments. “I don’t recall reading anything in the handbook that prohibits attacking someone while you’re in a lock up with them. In fact, I’m willing to bet that you’ve done that on many occasions,” Pete replies. Sugarhill’s Finest lets loose with another kick to the knee before pulling free of JJ’s grasp and wrapping his arms around Johnson’s waist. Buck picks Johnson off the mat, turning him upside down and placing the mute grappler on his shoulder in the process. Before Lil’ Buck can accomplish whatever he has planned, Johnson slides off and gives Buck a shove in the back, giving himself some space. Buck crouches and turns, easily ducking the non-existent roundhouse, but the knee is a different story altogether. “Nice knee to the face by JJ Johnson after he slid behind Lil’ Buck,” Longdogger comments, which isn’t surprising, as that’s his job title. “Nice? A nice knee? It was a brutal, potential face-shattering knee from JJ Johnson! I really think that referee Hall should stop the match right now. For Lil’ Buck’s safety,” Suicide King says. As the Gangsta of Love stumbles back, Johnson charges in, slaps on a front waistlock, and with a quick turn of his body, plants Buck on the mat with a belly-to-belly suplex. Johnson scoots backwards and reaches for Buck’s right leg, but gets nailed with the left to his knee. Buck pulls himself off the mat and leaps, taking triple J down with a clothesline. “Leaping clothesline from Lil’ Buck, and that might allow him to take control of this match,” Pete says. “Oh, so let’s applaud Lil’ Buck for a clothesline, but completely gloss over JJ Johnson’s suplex? Sure, let’s just pretend that it never happened, kind of like how geeks claim that there never was such a thing as Highlander II,” King says. “Well, I was going to talk about it, too,” Longdogger pleads. “Talk about what? Nothing happened!” King shouts. The Arrogant Alabaman scrambles to his feet and grabs hold of JJ’s left leg. He raises it up and kicks Johnson in the back of the knee. Buck fires off another, and a third kick to Johnson’s knee before JJ lands a kick of his own to Buck’s wrist, allowing the newest member of Revolution Zero to wriggle free. “JJ Johnson just managed to free himself, and it looks like Lil’ Buck has shown what his game plan for this match is: neutralize Johnson’s speed,” Pete notes. “That’s going to be tough. JJ Johnson is resilient, besides, Lil’ Buck isn’t exactly a technical mastermind, and it’s going to take a lot longer to pound a person’s legs to injury than to slap on a leglock that can do it in seconds,” King points out. Johnson rises to his feet and takes Lil’ Buck off his with a dropkick. JJ kips up, dashes to a corner, and hops up to the top turnbuckle. Johnson stretches out his arms in yet another crucifix pose and jumps, crashing into Sugarhill’s Finest with a headbutt. Triple J reaches over and drapes an arm across Buck’s chest. Hall tosses back an autographed headshot to a fan of Dead Zone and dives down to count the pin: ONE! TW--NO! Hall rises prematurely, indicating that JJ isn’t victorious, yet. “Johnson only got a one-count from that diving headbutt. It’s going to take a lot more to keep Lil’ Buck down. He was shot like ten times, after all,” Pete states. “Dolt. That’s his yet to be seen tag team partner Jarrod Banks,” King replies. “How do you know? You never know anything!” Pete exclaims incredulously. “Simple. I read it on the internet.” Johnson lifts Buck off the mat and shoots him into the ropes. As the Gangsta of Love rebounds, JJ darts forward, but gets caught off guard as Lil’ Buck flies towards him and wraps his arms around Johnson’s head, swings around and yanks J cubed to the mat. “Bucked Up! JJ Johnson just got Bucked Up! That came out of nowhere! Johnson needs to find a way out quickly before his air supply is cut off,” Pete says. “Air Supply? They were a pretty good group, but I don’t see what they have to do with a wrestling match. Really, Drain-Clogger, get it together,” King replies, shaking his head. Hall slides down to check on the legality of the hold and also to see if JJ Johnson will submit. The sleeper seems legit, but as JJ stops flailing to think out a plan, Hall notices that Johnson’s shoulders are flat on the mat and Buck has some semblance of a cover on him. ONE! TWO--NO! JJ shoots an arm up, just realizing what Hall is counting. The mute wrestler shifts all of his weight onto his left shoulder, then rocks it to his right, trying to roll over on to either side. Luckily for him, triple J puts too much strength into it, and rolls onto his stomach, placing Buck on his back, giving Johnson an easy escape. JJ gets to his feet and sucks wind before dropping an elbow across the Gangsta of Love’s back and applying a chinlock. “The tables have turned! Now Lil’ Buck is trapped in a submission hold of JJ Johnson’s! Let’s see how well he manages to escape, MacDougal!” King shouts gleefully. “And Lil’ Buck is in added danger, since, as you’ve pointed out numerous times in this match, JJ Johnson is a submissions expert,” Pete adds. Halls slides in close, but Buck waves him off and sets to work on trying to free himself. Sugarhill’s Finest tries to rip JJ’s hands apart, but Johnson digs a knee into Buck’s back, forcing him to focus on that. Lil’ Buck reaches behind and grabs hold of Johnson’s other leg and unsteadily gets to his feet, bent over with triple J clinging to his back. Buck straightens up while stretching out JJ’s leg, trying to bend Johnson’s knee in an odd direction. “Lil’ Buck is fighting fire with fire, so to speak. He’s got JJ Johnson in some kind of leg submission, and Johnson’s knee is being bent at a bad angle,” Longdogger points out. “Yeah, but Buck has been in that chinlock for quite a while, and I think he’ll submit first,” King adds. Buck glances to the side as best he can with Johnson’s arms wrapped around his head, and turns slightly before walking backwards. Lil’ Buck nears the corner and falls backwards, slamming the back of JJ’s neck into the top turnbuckle. Johnson quickly releases the hold, as does Buck. Sugarhill’s Finest turns and as triple J pulls himself up via the ropes, darts in, driving his elbow into JJ’s head. Johnson slumps into the corner as Lil’ Buck slams another elbow into his cranium. The Gangsta of Love adds a knee to JJ’s chest for good measure before hoisting him up and planting Johnson on the top buckle. “Lil’ Buck is going for the Dirty South Thang! If he manages to pull it off, JJ Johnson might end up on the losing end of this match!” Pete exclaims. “Not a chance! Johnson is tough, besides, I doubt that Buck will manage to hit it. C’mon JJ, fight him off!” King shouts. The Arrogant Alabaman ascends to the second buckle, but is met with a sharp headbutt from Johnson that nearly knocks him down. Buck holds on with his right hand and fires a forearm into Johnson’s jaw. JJ responds with another headbutt, and Buck dishes out an uppercut. J cubed stands up, teeters enough to excite the fans, and drives a punch down to the bridge of Lil’ Buck’s nose. Johnson throws another bomb, dazing Buck, and with Sugarhill’s Finest reeling backwards, JJ sends him off the buckles with a palm strike. Before Lil’ Buck even reaches the ground, Johnson falls off the top turnbuckle, nailing Buck with another diving headbutt. “JJ Johnson fought of Lil’ Buck! What an exchange from those two, and Johnson finished it off nicely with a diving headbutt!” Pete shouts. “I told you! I told you that Johnson would fight it off,” King says, doing all he can to restrain himself from going “Nyeah-nyea-nyeah.” Johnson stands, shakes some cobwebs out, and pulls Lil’ Buck off the mat. JJ sends Sugarhill’s Finest to the ropes and follows after him. As Buck hits the ropes and turns around, he gets blasted with a Yakuza kick from Johnson, sending the Gangsta of Love over the top rope. Luckily for him, he manages to land on the apron and pull himself up with the ropes. Unluckily for him, Johnson is standing in front of him and nails Buck with a roundhouse that knocks him off the apron and to the ground below. “Yakuza kick from JJ Johnson, but that wasn’t enough to completely take Lil’ Buck down, so Johnson fired off a roundhouse, hitting Buck in the head once again,” Longdogger states. “Absolutely beautiful! The only question is, does Johnson leave Buck out there and get a count-out victory, or exit the ring, pummel Buck for a while, then pull him back in to get the pin or a tap out?” King wonders. As Anthony Michael Hall moves over to start counting out Lil’ Buck, Johnson runs for the opposite set of ropes, bounces off and charges for the nearly vertical Buck. JJ leaps, turning in mid-air, and crashes into Buck, knocking him back down to the cold, harsh mistress that is concrete. “Somersault plancha from JJ Johnson! He was lucky to hit it, because I’ve seen countless matches end when some flippy-floppy guy took a risk and ended up landing on his head instead of playing a more conservative game,” Pete comments. “Yeah, but those guys were idiots. JJ Johnson knows what he is doing. He’s not some flippy-floppy fool like Wildchild,” King replies. Hall curses under his breath and re-starts the count: One! Johnson rolls off of Buck and gets to his knees with help from the ring steps. Two! Three! Four! Lil’ Buck sits up, but goes back down as Johnson dives towards him. Five! Six! JJ gets up and pulls Buck to his feet. Seven! Johnson slams Lil’ Buck into the ring steps and rolls into the ring. Eight! Nine! Buck drags himself into the ring, stopping the count and prompting a gasp from the crowd. “Lil’ Buck just made it! He barely beat the count, so this match continues!” Pete shouts. “Obviously. I mean, I don’t hear a bell ringing, so of course the match is still going on,” King replies. J cubed pulls Buck up and shoots him into the ropes. Buck bounces off and ends up in Johnson’s clutches. JJ falls forward, taking Buck down with a STO. As Buck’s head hits the mat, Johnson fires off an elbow, catching Sugarhill’s Finest on the side of the head. “Nice STO from JJ Johnson, and he remains in control,” Pete notes. JJ lifts Buck off the mat, attempts an Irish whip, but Lil’ Buck grabs Johnson’s arm, gets behind and grabs the other limb. Buck picks JJ up, but triple J scissors Buck’s waist and yanks both arms free. The voiceless wrestler reaches down and slips between the Arrogant Alabaman’s legs, pulling Buck down to the mat. Johnson quickly wraps his legs around Buck’s right leg and twists while Anthony Michael Hall checks to see if Lil’ Buck will submit. “Shawn capture! JJ Johnson has got Lil’ Buck trapped in a shawn capture! That will really play hell on Buck’s leg if he can’t get free,” Longdogger points out. “Of course! That’s because JJ Johnson knows what he’s doing when he applies a submission, he doesn’t just try something until he gets a result,” King says. Buck shakes his head and begins crawling towards the ropes while Johnson shifts a tiny bit, modifying the shawn capture into a heel hook. “Now JJ Johnson has got Lil’ Buck in a heel hook! Buck has to act fast otherwise he’ll end up with a broken ankle!” Pete shouts. “Once again, Johnson is a technical mastermind. He knows how to twist and crank on joints to get the maximum amount of pain,” King adds. Hall once again asks Buck if he’ll submit, but only gets a pained yell in response as Sugarhill’s Finest continues to make his way towards the ropes. Johnson tries to pull Buck back, but those extra fifty pounds really make a difference, and Lil’ Buck manages to grasp hold of the ropes, barking at Hall to enforce the rope break. “Lil’ Buck has the ropes, but JJ Johnson doesn’t want to let go of that heel hook. The referee better do something, otherwise Lil’ Buck will have a broken ankle!” Pete exclaims. “So? I thought he was a straight-up gangsta, yo! He should be able to take a snapped ankle,” King replies. Hall stands over Johnson, trying to look intimidating as possible while starting the five count. One! Two! Three! Four! Fi... Johnson, acting as if he was unaware that the count was directed towards him, lets go of Buck’s leg and rolls backwards while Sugarhill’s Finest hangs on to the middle rope for support. Lil’ Buck pulls himself upright and hobbles towards Johnson, who fires off a kick to Buck’s stomach. Buck hunches over, and JJ stalks towards him, but eats a left hand to the gut. The Gangsta of Love straightens up and bashes triple J in the head with a double axhandle. Johnson staggers back and gets hit with another axhandle. Buck boots Johnson in the stomach and slips behind JJ. The Arrogant Alabaman threads JJ’s left arm between his legs and hooks the right. Buck pulls Johnson off the mat and drops, planting the Hardcore Gamer’s champion with a piledriver. “Lil’ Buck just Pumped it Up! Nice pumphandle piledriver, and it looks like Buck has regained control of this match,” Longdogger notes. “Just temporarily, Pete, just temporarily,” Suicide King replies, not quite sure of his words. Buck pulls JJ up and whips him to the ropes. As Johnson bounces back, Buck extends his arms, hoping to tilt-a-whirl J cubed, but the mute grappler sees it coming from afar and slides underneath Buck, hooking his ankle with the crook of his elbow in the process. Buck face plants, Johnson springs to his feet, and crosses Buck’s legs over. “Frostbite! JJ Johnson is looking to end this match by locking in the Frostbite on Lil’ Buck!” Pete shouts. “Once again, Drain-Clogger, I’m right! Johnson was just toying with Lil’ Buck, and now Buck is going to pay!” King exclaims. Johnson cinches in the hold, and Buck screams in pain as Hall checks for any signs of submission. Lil’ Buck begins the long crawl towards with ropes as JJ tries to dig in to the mat any way possible. Once again, Buck’s extra weight proves to help, as Sugarhill’s Finest drags himself and Johnson towards the ropes. Inches away, Buck drops flat, sweat pouring down his face. Hall asks if Buck will submit, and gets a garbled yell as a response. Lil’ Buck stretches out a hand, and lets it fall, his fingertips almost brushing the cables. “That was a tap out! Come on, ref, Buck just tapped!” King screams. “No it wasn’t! Lil’ Buck was trying to reach the ropes, though I think a tap out might be coming soon,” Pete adds. Everyone in the Pepsi (Max) Center seems to feel the same way as Longdogger, down to the sound technician, poised to cue up Stereomud once more, but the fans aren’t so quick to resign Buck to defeat. “LET’S GO BU-UCK, LET’S GO!” *CLAP-CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!* “LET’S GO BU-UCK, LET’S GO!” *CLAP-CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!* “LET’S GO BU-UCK, LET’S GO!” *CLAP-CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!* Perhaps stirred by the chant, or the newest wave of pain shooting up his spinal cord, Buck raises his head and lunges forward, grabbing hold of the bottom rope. Remembering how long Johnson kept the heel hook on earlier, Hall is a bit sterner this time around, going so far as to try and pull JJ off of Lil’ Buck. “He made the ropes! Lil’ Buck got the ropes yet again, and Anthony Michael Hall is pulling JJ Johnson off of Buck,” Longdogger states. “And that’s just wrong! I never saw Hall pushing Lil’ Buck around for using closed fists,” King points out. Johnson backs away from Hall and Buck and stands as he gets an earful from the referee. Johnson waits for Lil’ Buck to pull himself off the mat before making his way towards him. JJ grabs Sugarhill’s Finest by the arm and drags him towards the center of the ring. Triple J slams an elbow into Buck’s chest, then flicks it upwards, catching the Gangsta of Love on the chin. Johnson spins around, looking for a rolling elbow to finish off the Arrogant Alabaman, but the elbow whizzes over Buck’s head. Johnson continues to spin from the momentum, and Lil’ Buck explodes up from his crouch, snaring JJ around the waist and falling backwards. “Back drop driver from Lil’ Buck! He might have just obliterated JJ Johnson with that move!” Pete roars. “Not a chance! Why, I’ve seen JJ Johnson take about ten of those in a row and pop right back up. And that’s after he’s run ten miles!” King retorts. “How the hell do you know so much about the training regimen of a wrestler who hasn’t even been around for a month? You’ve got a bit of a creepy stalker vibe going on, King. Try to tone it down a notch,” Pete replies. “I think you’re forgetting something,” King adds. “No! I won’t say it, damn it!” Pete shouts back. “You will if you want to keep your job,” King says. “Oh, fine. BACKDROPPAH~!” Pete exclaims. Lil’ Buck rises to his feet, breathing heavily, as is Johnson, whom Buck pulls off the mat. Buck sends JJ to the ropes with an Irish whip, and as he bounces back, the silent grappler stretches out an arm, looking for a clothesline. Buck seems to be expecting it, though, and Sugarhill’s Finest ducks and shoots up an arm of his own, snaring JJ’s. Buck snares Johnson’s other arm, locking him in a full nelson and lifts JJ off his feet and drops him back down. Lil’ Buck leans forward, nearly folding JJ Johnson in half. Anthony Michael Hall has to lay on his back in order to check on Johnson, though there isn’t much to check. “Champion’s Requiem! Lil’ Buck has JJ Johnson trapped in the Champion’s Requiem, and after the assault on his neck, I don’t think Johnson can last very long!” Pete shouts. “Maybe, but there’s no way to tell! Johnson’s arms are pretty much trapped, so he can’t tap out, nor can the referee raise them to check on his level of consciousness, his head is pretty immobile, so JJ can’t shake his head yes or no, and he doesn’t speak, so he can’t tell Hall that he gives up! Buck could keep that hold on all night, but Hall won’t be able to legally declare him the winner,” Suicide King points out. “How very true, though I don’t think that Lil’ Buck cares how long he has to keep Johnson in the Champion’s Requiem. Even if Johnson passes out, Buck could simply let go and pin him,” Pete adds. “New plan! JJ Johnson will only wrestle in ‘I Quit’ matches!” King says. Hall looks up to see if Buck has given himself an unfair advantage by placing his feet on the ropes, but the Gangsta of Love doesn’t want to risk being disqualified this close to victory. Hall looks back at Johnson, trying to see if JJ is giving off a signal of defeat, but triple J remains stoic. Hall tries once more to gauge JJ’s face, but once again, comes up blank. Buck, however, seems confident that Johnson has passed out and stands up, pulling JJ to his feet. Sugarhill’s Finest slowly releases Johnson’s left arm and shoots in front of J cubed, re-hooking the sinister limb. Lil’ Buck twists around, placing JJ on his back and stands up straight, letting Johnson dangle. Buck flashes a brief smile, certain that victory is imminent, and drops, driving Johnson’s head into the mat. “JJ Johnson just went on a Buck-Wild Ride! Buck has got this match in the bag!” Pete exclaims. “Damn it! Come on, JJ, get your ass up!” King pleads. Buck scoots back and hooks JJ’s leg, unnecessary though it may be, as Anthony Michael Hall slides in to count: ONE! TWO! THREE! Hall springs to his feet and shakes his hand towards Funyon, signaling for the bell. DING! DING! DING! “The winner of this match, via pinfall, Sugarhill’s Finest, LIIL’ BUCK!” Funyon shouts over the crowd and Crime Mob’s “Knuck if You Buck”. “What a match! A battle, nay, a war that went back and forth, but Lil’ Buck managed to pull it off,” Pete states. “Okay, okay. Just shut up. Can we hurry up and get to Scott Pretzler tearing Ejiro Fasaki apart?” King asks hopefully. Buck retrieves his cup and jersey and takes a sip as he walks back up the ramp as Lockdown fades to a commercial for Danny Williams’ Strong Style Ribs: “I make ribs. You should eat them.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Pretzler,” says the nameless blonde sitting in front of the office door marked ‘Mr. Flesher.’ “I’m afraid I can’t let you in without an appointment.” “Come on, cut the crap,” Pretzler says, obviously irritated. “I have a letter here from…” “I’m very, very sorry, Mr. Pretzler,” she says. “I can’t let you in.” Angry, Pretzler brushes past her, still holding the letter from SWF management in his hand. “Mr. Pretzler!” she shouts, but to no avail, as he shoves open the door leading to Flesher’s office. As the door swings open, Pretzler sees Allison Onita peeling her top off. “Are you sure you don’t have any fours?” she asks. “Absolutely sure.” “Listen,” says Pretzler, “I hate to interrupt the…” He raises an eyebrow. “What the hell is going on here?” Flesher grumbles, “Jesus, didn’t my secretary try to stop you? All I want to do is play some Go Fish with Allison, and…” “She’s useless, Flesher,” Pretzler says. “I know. I might as well just put a necktie on the doorknob.” “…wait.” Pretzler realizes what exactly was going on and asks, “you’re playing strip Go Fish?” “This isn’t about me,” Flesher says with a scowl, as Allison scampers to put her top back on. “What brings you by the office today? Make it quick.” “Well, I just got this letter from SWF management, and…” “Ah, you heard from Joe?” “It’s not signed,” Pretzler grouses. “I filed a petition for a Cruiserweight Championship match, and they told me I’m going to have to win a contendership.” Flesher strokes his chin thoughtfully. “I see. And when do you want your contendership match? I might be able to fit you in on the next Smarkdown.” Pretzler’s eyes narrow. “That’s just it. Damn it, Tom, I shouldn’t have to win a contendership match! I’m a former Cruiserweight Champion! I want my match on pay-per-view, and I want you to make it, right here, right now.” Flesher shakes his head. “Sorry, Scotty. No can do. I’m only booking Smarkdown, and…” “I don’t care,” says Pretzler with a scowl. “I don’t know what to tell you. I just don’t have the power to…” Flesher looks up, only to see Pretzler gone. He sighs, then looks at Allison. “Shut the door, would you? And deal the cards.”

Before SWF Lockdown back to air, a station promo airs. SWF programs are the highest rated programs on this channel, so this company has no shame in promoting terrible shows with Smarks Wrestling Federation prestige. “Ever seen Back to the Future II?” quizzes a stereotypical TV voice, too energetic for 90 percent of the population. After a half hearted chuckle, the voice continues. “Then don’t miss this upcoming fall’s new comedy called, ‘I Think He Took His Wallet’,” booms the voice. “Wesley Mann stars as a man with a simple statement that gets him into WACKY adventures!” the voice now boasts. Next, they show a snippet from the show. Wesley sits on a city, next to a big hulking man who is actually Lil’ Buck, making a crossover appearance. Mann sits with his suitcase in his lap, sitting like he is making a diamond out of a lump of coal in his ass. Buck sits next to him, sipping out of his trademark pimp cup and reading the morning paper. Suddenly, a man in a fedora and a leather jacket rushes by, running into both Mann and Lil’ Buck. After the man rushes by, Wesley slowly turns his head to Buck, drawing a nice laugh track. The look on his face makes it look like he just took a bite from a lemon. “I think he took your wallet,” says the man from Hill Valley. The crowd roars in applause. Calculated and cool, Buck folds up his newspaper and looks over to Wesley. “That mothafucka did! Didn’t he?” asks Lil’ Buck. “I think he did,” retorts Mann. Buck swiftly pulls out a gat and fires into the general direction of the man off screen. People in the train car scream in terror as the studio audience lets out a nauseating laugh. Finally, we come back to SWF Lockdown. At the announcer’s table sits the usual hosts. Pete and King sit ready to call more action, and the first match of the evening. “Welcome back to Lockdown, prisoners! Longdogger Pete and The Suicide King here to lead you through the action,” says Pete. “Indeed. In the main event tonight, we have double champion Wildchild taking on Landon Maddix,” King informs the public. “But first things first, our opening tag match,” says the Longdogger. "Denver's own Manson will be tagging with Arch Griffon to take on the team of Austin Sly and Mohammed Koran. Manson and Griffon have taken on Koran and Sly seperately, picking up wins over them both, and now we're pairing them up in a wacky tag match, because we can." The lights fade out and red strobes pulse and flash as the fans rise to their feet, the buzz in the arena reaching a fever pitch, as Mastodon's "Crusher Destroyer" blasts from the speakers. Moments later, Manson and Griffon emerge, accompanied by the roar of the fans and bursts of blinding white pyro on each side of the stage. “The following is a tag team match scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, at a combined weight of 537 pounds, ARCH GRIFFON AND MMMMAAAANNNNSOONNN,” booms Funyon, as the two continue down to the ring. Manson throws up the metal horns, getting another roar from the stands, before the two slide into the ring. The Raging Bull stops in the middle of the ring to chat with referee Mathew Kivell, as Griffon goes about doing some stretching exercises in the ring. “An interesting tag team match on the horizon tonight, King. Griffon versus the despised Muhammed Koran in their second bout, as well Manson performing in front of his hometown fans,” explains Pete. “However, let us also remember the way that Sly snapped on old Archibald a few weeks ago in that Pure Wrestling match, and weeks before that he took on Manson, during which he bashed Manson over the head with a steel chair. You know that Griffon and Manson have something to prove tonight,” says King. As Manson and Griffon converse in the center of the ring, the lights go dark, except for spotlights shining down onto the stage. Meanwhile, an excerpt from Rage Against The Machine's "Beautiful World" plays out. "It's a wonderful place, oh what a wonderful place..." "For you..." "... for you..." "For you... not me..." ... Boom! Pyros explode from each side of the stage, launching a mix of red and gold stars towards the ceiling and cueing a change in music as Zach de la Rocha's voice once again floods the building, this time doing a cover of "Street Fighting Man". The arena lights pulse along to the beat, but the fans filling the Pepsi Center don't seems to appreciate the obvious work that went into producing such a spectacle, instead booing the arrival of Austin Sly as he enters, followed by Mohammed Koran, and "The Prince" Haram Nazeer right behind him. With a look of disgust plastered across his face, the trench coated Sly stops at the top of the ramp, flanked by Mohammed and Nazeer. The boos continue as Sly just stares out into the mass of humanity looking all goth-like, and Koran tilts his head, hocking a wad of spit down toward the ground. The three start down the ramp, ignoring the chants and hisses of the crowd. "Everywhere I hear the sound of marching, charging feet boooooy..." "'Cause summers here and the time is right for fighting in the streeeet boooooy..." “And now introducing their opponents, weighing in at a combined weight of 483 pounds, MOHAMMED KORRRAN AND AUUUSTIN SLY!” bellows Funyon once again. Sly and Koran continue on down the ramp and soon reach ringside, Mohammed stopping to jaw with one of the fellows sitting ringside with help from Nazeer, who joins in on the antices. Muhammed stops a few times to insult fans, with help from his manager, who joins in on the antics. Meanwhile, Sly climbs the steps, but not before discarding his trench coat and meticulously placing it on the post. He climbs into the ring, never taking his eyes off his opponents, as Koran hops onto the apron, wipes his feet and joins Sly. They exchange brief pleasantries with Matthew Kivell before being checked out, and Nazeer berates him from the outside, in Arabic, of course, as Sly accuses him of racial profiling. *DINGDINGDING* “And the match is underway,” chimes Pete. The partners of both teams discuss who will start the match, before Griffon and Sly take the apron. The fans stir as their hometown hero and Koran circle the ring. After the first revolution around, they lock up, but Manson quickly breaks it off. A smile appears on Manson face as he backpedals and puts his hand behind his head. *SMACK* Manson tags in Griffon, and the crowd disapproves, wanting to see Manson compete. Nevertheless, Manson just shrugs as the massive Griffon enters the ring and a look of panic appears on Koran’s face as he begs off. “What is Manson doing?” quizzes King. “After Koran challenged a Griffon to another one on one encounter, you’d think Koran would be game. Manson has just affirmed that he is not,” says Pete. “Too much blood was shed for Koran not to flinch at least a bit,” adds in King. Quickly, Koran backpedals and tags in his partner, Austin Sly. Sly just shakes his head in disgust and slowly enters the ring. Griffon and Sly then circle around, and lock up in the middle. Slowly, Arch backs Austin into the lower left corner. Archie holds on, arching Sly backwards over the top turnbuckle. “Griffon asserting his strength at the get go, shoving Sly into the corner and having his way with him,” announces Pete. “C’mon ref, break that up,” shouts King, as Kivell quickly moves into position and makes his count. Griffon reluctantly backs off of Sly, but a clean break isn't to be had, as Sly pokes his opponent in the eyes, drawing jeers from the Denver crowd. “A very underhanded move by Sly to take over,” says Pete, as Sly is admonished by Kivell. Griffon backpedals into the middle of the ring, and Sly goes on the offensive. He gives Griffon a swift boot to the midsection, doubling him over. Austin then lifts a knee, slamming it into Griffon’s forehead. Arch slumps backwards and falls to his back, quickly jumped on by Sly. “A vicious knee lift from Sly puts Archie down, and now he goes for a quick cover,” the observant Floridian says, as Kivell slides into position to count Sly’s lateral press. ONE! TW-NO!! Griffon is able to power out easily. Sly stays on the attack and lifts Griffon back up to his feet. Still in the center of the ring, Austin grabs the larger man’s wrist and attempts to fling Griffon across the ring with an Irish whip. However, Arch uses his size advantage to reverse the whip, sending Sly across the ring toward his own team's side of the ring. Sly goes on, bounces off the ropes, and catches a quick knee to the kidneys from the apron by Manson! The Pepsi Center crowd cheers Manson, as Sly stumbles to the center of the ring. Griffon continues charging, and leaps forward, taking Sly down to the mat with a powerful flying shoulder block! “How can these fans cheer Manson after what he just did?” asks King. “Because he did it to Austin Sly, and here’s a cover from Griffon,” Pete explains, as Kivell slides into position once more and makes the count. ONE! TWO!! T-NO!!! Sly is able to kick out and Griffon lifts him back up to his feet. With Austin up, Griffon gives Sly a taste of his own medicine and gives him a boot to the stomach, and with Sly dazed, Griffon grabs him around the waist and hoists him up, flinging him over his head! The overhead belly to belly suplex hits, the air rushing out of Sly's lungs. “A tremendous suplex from Griffon has left Sly sprawled on his back,” says Pete. Griffon quickly rolls over and hooks the leg with a cover. ONE! TWO!! THR-NO!!! Griffon quickly scurries to his feet, but instead of picking up Sly, he turns and makes a quick charge at Koran on the apron, however, The Mesopotamian Madman drops to the floor before Archie can make an attack, and he and Nazeer confer. With a smirk, Griffon comes back toward Austin, ignoring the insults hurled at him by Koran and Nazeer. “And Griffon is lucky that Sly didn’t pop up and club him in the back of the head after that stunt,” King says. Griffon grasps Sly by the wrist as he comes to a stand, giving it a wrench, then walks Sly back toward Manson. He extends his hand and with a roar from the crowd, The Stampede tags in. Griffon holds onto the arm, as Manson lays into Sly with an elbow smash to the jaw. Sly drops to his knees and Manson backs up against the ropes. He raises his braced right knee and drives it into Sly's face on the rebound! Sly falls to his back tending to his jaw and Manson pounces on him for another quick cover. “Griffon and Manson very aggressive here, looking for the quick victory,” says Pete. Kivell makes the count. ONE! TWO!! TH-NO!! “What a vicious knee to the face of Sly! But he kicked out again!" exclaims Pete. Not to be deterred, Manson drags Austin back to his feet. As soon as he gets his opponent to his feet, The Stampede comes across with a powerful knife edge chop. “WHOO!” exclaims the crowd. Manson labels another on Sly’s chest, drawing the same response from the fans. Finally, Manson directs Sly towards the center of the ring. Koran jumps back up onto the apron, trying to will Austin to their corner, but the Raging Bull has other ideas and quickly whips Sly into Koran! The two knock heads, and Koran falls to the floor, as Sly just slumps against the ropes. Manson then rushes forward and extends his arm, delivering a clothesline to Austin and sending him up over the top and to the floor! The crowd joyfully pops as Nazeer rushes to Sly and Koran's aid. “And Manson dumps the team of Sly and Koran to the floor!” screams Pete. Manson goes over to his corner and quickly tags in Griffon, and the two stand together in the center of the ring, watching their opponents on the outside. Nazeer helps up Austin and Koran, as Kivell begins to count them out. Finally, the two men get to their feet, with Nazeer by their side. Manson and Griffon spring into action, as Griffon grabs Manson and whips him towards their foes. However, Manson then reverses the whip on Griffon, giving him increased momentum and as he reaches the ropes, Arch disobeys physics and leaps over the top rope. The crowd roars as he nails all three men with The Bloodlust Plancha! “Holy shit, what an athlete. Griffon just leapt over the top rope and came crashing down on all three men!” says Pete excitedly. “Ahah, but see, Koran is rising to his feet! Griffon must have merely clipped him,” says King. Holy shit is right, as Manson follows up, cleaning up after Griffon as he runs back into the right hand side ropes, springing off. Nearing the chaos on the outside, The Raging Bull leaps through the ropes and takes down Koran down with the Suicide Dive! The crowd now goes rabid as all three men lay on the outside, and the team of Arch and Manson gather themselves up and head back into the ring to soak in the cheers of the crowd. “What great teamwork by Manson and Griffon!” yells Pete once more. "Kivell has to regain control of this match!" shouts King, upset with the course of the contest thus far. "Arch and Manson can't just do that!" "Well, they just did," comments LDP, as King scowls at him. Kivell restarts the count on Austin, just as Sly, Nazeer and Koran begin stirring. On four, Austin gets up with the help of Nazeer, with Koran just a step behind, as he gets to a knee. Austin lumbers back toward the ring, with Nazeer going off on his own. Meanwhile, Koran gets to his feet and heads back to his corner, as Nazeer jumps up onto the near camera side apron. He's immediately pounced on by Manson, who knocks him off with a right hand, but on the other side of the ring, Austin slides in, followed by Koran, and the two lay Griffon out from behind! Conveniently distracted by the happenings between Manson and Nazeer, Kivell is unaware to the Koran and Sly's sneak attack, as the two begin laying in the stomps to Griffon, attempting to keep him down on the mat. "And the numbers catch up to Manson and Griffon, as Koran and Sly flatten Griffon with the help of Nazeer," says LDP. "They finally got what was coming to them after unfairly taking things to the outside," King says. "Karma is coming back around." "Yet if Koran and Sly had done so, you'd be advocating it." On the outside, Nazeer tries to get at Manson again, causing the hot tempered Raging Bull to follow him out, which in turn brings out Kivell, who gets in between the two and points Nazeer to the back, demanding he leave ringside. Nazeer protests but eventually leaves reluctantly, screaming on his way up the ramp, as Koran looks on in disbelief. Meanwhile, with Nazeer no longer a problem, Manson heads back into the ring, giving Griffon some relief as he takes Austin down with a shove and begins going to work on Koran with a mix of punches and elbow smashes to the face. A strong blow knocks Koran down and he rolls out of the ring, leaving Manson to go after Sly, but before he can get to him, Kivell re-enters the ring and drags him away toward his corner. "Well, thankfully Kivell regained control of this match, as he sends Nazeer to the back. He has no business down here if he's gonna be doing these kinds of things," LDP says, as Manson takes his place on the apron. "Please, it's not his fault Manson can't control himself," King adds. In the ring, Austin attempts to bring Griffon up to his feet, but Griffon pushes him away and lunges in to try and trap Sly in the corner, but Sly delivers a quick kick to Griffon's left knee. Sly hits him with a another kick to the knee, followed by a kick to the stomach, doubling Griffon over. Sly wraps his arms around Griffon's head, trying for a side headlock, but Griffon shoves him off toward the near camera side ropes. Austin springs off, and waiting in the center of the ring, Griffon flattens him with a big shoulderblock. Sly slowly begins to get back up to his feet, and Griffon helps him up partway through, then nails him with a knee to the stomach. Arch then grabs him by the wrist, pulling him in close and taking him down with a short arm clothesline. Griffon keeps hold of Sly, bringing the dazed Austin up to his feet, but as he pulls Sly in again, he goes low and dropkicks Griffon in the knees, taking him off his feet. "The tide of this match has changed," says LDP, "with Austin wisely going after Griffon's legs." "You wonder why they didn't do anything like that earlier," King says, as Austin grabs Griffon. Austin drags Griffon back to his corner by the leg, and Koran takes the tag. With Austin still holding onto Griffon, Koran comes in and both he and Austin tee off on the leg with multiple, repeated kicks. Sly heads out, leaving Griffon to Koran, who next hammers Griffon with forearms to the back, before giving him a slap to the head as he tries to stand back up. Suddenly Griffon reaches up and wraps a hand around Koran's throat and stands, but Koran fires off a series of rapid jabs to the face, forcing Griffon to release him. Koran then circles the momentarily dazed Griffon and takes him down with a schoolboy rollup, grabbing the tights as he does so. "ONE!" "TWO!" "He kicks out!" shouts LDP, as Koran gets back up to his feet. Koran delivers another slap to Griffon, this time to the face. He growls angrily as he stands, staring a hole into Koran and ready to tear him apart, but Koran simply rakes the eyes, and as Kivell protests, it falls on deaf ears as Koran heads down and takes Griffon to the mat with a tackle. Koran hurriedly tags out to an unexpectant Sly, bringing him back into the ring. "Koran with a slap to the face, which only manages to piss Griffon off," LDP says. "But thankfully he manages to get into Griffon's eyes and tag out to Austin," King comments. Griffon begins getting back up to his feet once more, but Sly takes him down again, with a forearm to the back of the neck. Griffon reaches out for his corner, still a good ways away, and Austin drops an elbow on the back of Griffon's neck. Sly stands and points out at the crowd, then grabs Griffon by his bad left leg and wraps wraps an arm around it, sitting down and locking in an elevated half crab! "Austin with a half crab, one very similar to Manson's Endsmouth, in fact, and you wonder if he's doing this to provoke Manson," states LDP. Indeed, the move causes Manson into heading into the ring to save Griffon, as he nails Austin with a lariat to the back of the head! Austin releases Griffon, and Manson quickly heads back to his corner, as Griffon crawls towards him. Manson reaches out for the tag, and Griffon makes one last stretch, connecting with Manson! The crowd explodes as Manson comes in and goes after Austin, but thankfully for him, he tags Koran back into the ring. Koran begs off for a moment, but Manson brings him in against his will with a hiptoss over the ropes. Koran stands back up and nails Manson with a right hand, but Manson comes back with one of his own, and the two begin exchanging punches, but Manson gains the upper hand as he forces Koran against the ropes. Manson grabs hold of Koran, sending him across the ring to the right hand side ropes, and spinning on his foot, he hits Koran with a rolling elbow! Koran goes down clutching his jaw, but in comes Sly who attacks Manson from behind, taking him down to a knee. "Manson is on fire, disposing of Austin and taking Koran down with a rolling elbow, and this match looks to have changed momentum once again!" screams LDP. "Ah, but here comes Austin again! Never count him out!" counters King. Unfortunately, though, Griffon has come to! He heads in and disposes of Austin, knocking him over the top rope and to the floor with a lariat! With Sly out of the way, Manson and Koran get to their feet, and first on the attack, Manson hits Koran with a knee to the stomach. Next turning into Koran, Manson reaches back and grabs him by the head, taking him down with the Consequences! "Manson hit the Consequences on Koran!" LDP shouts into the microphone, as Manson goes into a cover and Sly can only watch on. "ONE!" "TWOOO!" "THREEE!" *DING DING!* "Your winners," announces Funyon, "by pinfall, the team of MMMMAAAANNNSOOONNN AND ARCH GRIIIIFOOONNN!" Mastodon's "Crusher Destroyer" hits, to the backdrop of thousands of screaming fans, as Kivell raises the hands of Griffon and Manson. "Manson gets the win for his team in his hometown," shouts LDP, "a fitting end, as he hits the Consequences on Koran to get the three!" "Sigh… Well, it just wasn't Austin and Koran's night… I had a bad feeling going into this…" mutters King. "Well, Manson and Griffon pick up the win, and we'll be back with more Lockdown, after this!" Longdogger says, as we fade out.

The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents... SWF LOCKDOWN, APRIL 13th, 2005, LIVE FROM THE PEPSI CENTER IN DENVER, COLORADOOOOOOOOO! (8:00 PM EST; 5:00 PM PST. Check local listings.) *insert something funny about Colorado here* -=-=-=- THE MAIN EVENT Wildchild ©© vs. Landon Maddix (Non-title) Martial Law and Wild & Dangerous are on a collision course, but standard tag team booking dictates that before the Epic Tag Match®, there must be a singles match. Johnny recently took down Maddix during the SWF Belt Tournament - let's see if Maddix can even the score. Rules: Straight-up singles match. -=-=-=- Ejiro Fasaki vs. Scott Pretzler Ever since Ejiro came back, you've wanted this match. You know you have. Even if you didn't know you knew, you knew that you now know about knowing. Or... whatever. Scott Pretzler lost the Cruiserweight Title to Wildchild, then lost the Butte Deathmatch against Lil' Buck. Needless to say, he's out for blood. Ejiro Fasaki is a recovering heel-a-holic who's scored some impressive wins since his return. A win over the former Cruiserweight Champ would look mighty fine on his already awesome resume. Who's going to win? The fans, that's who. Rules: Totally fucking awesome singles match. -=-=-=- Lil' Buck vs. JJ Johnson © (Non-title) Two earth-shattering events took place on Smarkdown: JJ Johnson joined Revolution Zero, and Lil' Buck defeated Scott Pretzler. Clearly, it is the end of times. But the SWF will survive, even through Armageddon, and we'll do it with serious fucking style - that is, with Lil' Buck squaring off against newly crowned Hardcore Champion, JJ Johnson. JJ will undoubtedly be looking to restore a little pride to his new home, but Lil' Buck now has built up a bit of momentum - will Triple J put the "straight-up gangsta" (quoted because I'm white!) in his place, or will Buck go 2-0 against Rev-Zero? Rules: Regular singles match. -=-=-=- Opening Bout - Tag Team Match Arch Griffon and Manson vs. Mohammed Koran and Austin Sly Technically, both Griffon and Manson hold recent victories of Austin Sly - the problem is, one came when Sly pasted Manson with a chair, the other when Sly snapped on the referee. One can see why these victories would be less than satisfactory. So we're giving Griffon and Manson a second crack at Mr. Sly, but we're not entirely heartless, so we've given Sly a partner: Mohammed Koran. Koran has suffered losses at the hands of his opponents, and is itching for some revenge. Rules: Standard tag match, with a twist - not using the tag ropes results in spontaneous combustion.

EARLIER TODAY… Ninety seven! Ninety eight! Ninety nine! One… KNOCK KNOCK! Before Scott Pretzler can complete his one-hundredth pushup, there comes a knock on the door of the Revolution Zero dressing room. The sudden interruption causes him to lose his concentration and fall flat on his face on the floor. Infuriated, he sits up and tosses his shirt on before allowing his visitor to enter. This better be good. He opens the door and is greeted with the sight of a pudgy, bespectacled, and innocuous middle-aged man. His resemblance to an overfed rodent is positively striking. “Mr. Pretzler?” he asks in a whine befitting of his appearance. “That’s me. But who the hell are you?” In response, the rat-man hands him a letter and promptly exits. Pretzler glances down at the envelope – no address, only the name “Scott Pretzler” typed out with care. He opens it. ”From the SWF© management…” he reads aloud. Yes. This is it. He suppresses a quiver of glee. Mere days ago, he had submitted a petition to the powers-that-be requesting a shot at Wildchild©’s Cruiserweight Championship. Now they have responded. All other thoughts immediately vanish. It’s finally time. I’m going to get my belt back. He holds the letter to his breast and smiles, then continues to read. ”Mr. Pretzler, We, the management of the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation©, have read with great care and interest you request for a match against Wildchild™ at the ‘Battleground’™ pay-per-view event on April 26, 2005. Your skills and contributions are valued deeply by this company.” Pretzler nods with satisfaction and reads on: ”However, we regret to inform you that it is not currently possible for you to take part in such a match. Before one may obtain a championship opportunity, it is our tradition for that person to be placed in a ‘Number-one contendership’ qualifying contest, in order to determine which competitor is best suited for such a match. Because you only recently were defeated by Wildchild™ in a championship match, we feel that it is in the best interests of our other cruiserweight performers if they, too, are allowed to vie for this title. This way, no one will be left out. If it is your wish, you may further petition for placement in such a ‘Number-one contendership’ qualifying contest, and we the management will consider sanctioning such a match in the coming weeks. Thank you for your interest in the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation© and its commercial partners. For great deals on SWF© merchandise including hats, tees, and inflatable pleasure dolls, check out our website at www.theswf.com or contact our associates at X-Net Wrestling©!” He lowers the letter, hands trembling with rage. He crumples it into a ball. Stomps on it. These bastards. These greedy, stupid bastards. Just who did they think they were? Since his arrival, no one had worked harder than Scott Pretzler to promote sportsmanship and honest competition. No one had brought more respect to his opponents and the titles he captured. No one cared more about the sport of wrestling. So much red tape. So much egalitarian hippy nonsense. Everyone deserves an equal opportunity. But why? They’re not as good as me! They haven’t done anything to deserve a title shot. They haven’t submitted any petitions. Why must it be this way? Why must my abilities and my ambition be suppressed because these scrubs haven’t been as successful as me? Pretzler sits down. He is fuming. Why did I come here? What did I hope to gain? Obviously, he could wield a great deal more influence from such a position. Many more people would hear him, and thus many more would be persuaded by his words. But I should have known how they would treat me. How little respect I would be given. They don’t understand what kind of talent they have on their hands – or, worse, yet, they know exactly what kind of talent they are dealing with and are afraid of what I will do to their company. They know that they will have to change to meet approval by the more educated fanbase that I will attract, and it frightens them. There’s no hope. At least, there’s nothing that can be done about it at the moment. The best Pretzler can do is go out there, have a great match with Ejiro, and try to wiggle his way into the number-one contender’s match. Or set his sights on other titles. There are other belts out there. Unless… No, no, that won’t work. It really isn’t likely to work. Really. Honestly. … … Fade out.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” says Funyon, “please rise for the national anthem.” He was born in the summer of his 27th year Comin' home to a place he'd never been before He left yesterday behind him, you might say he was born again You might say he found a key for every door When he first came to the mountains his life was far away On the road and hangin' by a song But the string's already broken and he doesn't really care It keeps changin' fast and it don't last for long But the Colorado rocky mountain high I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky The shadow from the starlight is softer than a lullabye Rocky mountain high He climbed cathedral mountains, he saw silver clouds below He saw everything as far as you can see And they say that he got crazy once and he tried to touch the sun And he lost a friend but kept his memory Now he walks in quiet solitude the forest and the streams Seeking grace in every step he takes His sight has turned inside himself to try and understand The serenity of a clear blue mountain lake And the Colorado rocky mountain high I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky You can talk to God and listen to the casual reply Rocky mountain high Now his life is full of wonder but his heart still knows some fear Of a simple thing he cannot comprehend Why they try to tear the mountains down to bring in a couple more More people, more scars upon the land And the Colorado rocky mountain high I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky I know he'd be a poorer man if he never saw an eagle fly Rocky mountain high It's Colorado rocky mountain high I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky Friends around the campfire and everybody's high Rocky mountain high The crowd applauds Funyon’s stirring rendition of “Rocky Mountain High” as the picture fades to the Lockdown opening.

My match has an automatic extention till 10:30, but absolutely no later.

We actually just grabbed a noob from Xnet. Hopefully he'll enjoy his stay - it takes time to build a rep with a new group, of course.

I mostly get requests for penne rigati with vodka cream sauce, but I'm a damn good cook in general.

Sigh. You "know" (and I use the term loosely - perhaps it would be more accurate to say you "happen to have stumbled upon") just enough about law to make me be an insufferable pedant. *Ace pats Special K gently on the head You did a GOOD JOB finding an almost-apt analogy! I'm VERY PROUD of you! However, you're just barely on the other side of accurate. You see, United States law has things called "protected classes," which are a reaction to traditional types of discrimination. Discrimination against protected classes is prohibited. On the other hand, you have certain principles of commerce that apply to business owners, including the "a man's inn" extension of "a man's home is his castle." It's difficult to see how we resolve this, I know, but I'll give you a hint... the one forms an exception to the other. Thus, if you're discriminating against a protected class, contrary to a provision of United States law, you're opening yourself to civil litigation. I'll leave it as an exercise for you to figure out where in United States or Nevada law it specifies that card counters are a protected class. [Note to Vyce: I acknowledge the oversimplified nature of this post. Please don't kill me.]

Why should a private business be forced to serve anyone?

Waiting for the ridiculous part here ...

Yeah, but they didn't mean it.

VOTE, you bastards!

I fnord don't see fnord any bizarre fnord behavior. fnord fnord fnord fnord fnord fnord fnord fnord fnord fnord fnord fnord fnord fnord fnord fnord fnord fnord fnord fnord fnord fnord

Hey, nice progress! Since you graduated, do you think you're done with rugby, or are you going to hit the weights and broaden up your shoulders and stuff?

Happy Birthday to the Boston Strangler, everyone's favorite hoss! The man once no-sold a car, for god's sake!

Oh, god, the look on his face is priceless.

I find it ironic that, for once in his life, Patterson wasn't Deep Throat.

Here's the important question. Who the hell mixes scotch and coke?

I only look intimidating when I'm shopping for dress shirts. By the time I ask at the third store if they have collars in 19, that vein on my forehead is bulging.

Ace Lezaire vs. Christian Blackwell. Check.

It's in the pinned "Upcoming Television Dates" thread.

There's a funny story with that. It must include the phrase "like a lovesick puppy" for full effect, though.

Yeah, but on the bright side, girls 5'2" and under love me.