Ace309

I should point out, just for the record, that this is not the "new" way cards are going to be booked. There's an intra-show angle or story arc, and I set it up this way at the request of one of the people involved after he'd cleared it with CC.

That's no excuse.

Oh yeah? Well you're ugly. I'd also like to commend Frisco on a delightfully silly visual of Carnage buying Candace a teddy bear, as well as Dace Night making a return while staying useless to me in the booking arena.

I don't recall indicating that you were welcome in this thread, Mak.

I mentioned my comments on this in the other thread, but just to reiterate... it didn't take advantage of the stipulation at all. While I agree that the stip wasn't great (it's the sort of thing you'd fantasy-book to telegraph a win for Sacred), at some point you do need to bow to the stip. If you're like me, you're not going to write an original, psychologically-deep ladder or first-blood match. That said, I'll keep this match in mind and try to avoid pre-ordaining winners on my cards.

Happy New Year. I spent much of 2004 hanging with a great bunch of people, and one of them, for a while, was a guy by the name of Mak Francis. Mak was a great guy to travel with. Ejiro, Bill and I used to drive with him quite a bit, especially when we were swinging through the northeast corridor. Being a Floridian, Ejiro never much appreciated driving through the snow, but whenever we were going through Michigan, New York or Pennsylvania, one of us would always be pointing out some damn thing that he remembered from back home. One of the best was when we were going from Buffalo to New York City on the New York Thruway and pulled off about midway through to pay a visit to one of my exes. As it was, she wasn't home, but her older brother was just thrilled to see four of the Magnificent Seven on his doorstep. We were planning to just hassle Kristen for a while, but you wouldn't believe how well a family will feed you just because you're famous and schtupped their little girl a couple of times. But I digress. Mak and I had a running joke. Back when I was looking at law schools (yes, believe it or not, I had my retirement planned out almost a year in advance - I knew I wouldn't be able to handle the road schedule when I was trying to get my JD taken care of), I took a gander at a few places in Philadelphia. Around that time, Mak was off the road for a few weeks, and I was always threatening to drive by and toss a brick through his picture window. That developed the way things always do, and soon enough we were exchanging bricks in the worst ways. Sometimes he'd find one in his locker, or I'd find one tied to my singlet when I got back from the showers. Hell, Alli found one in her purse one night, which was just fascinating, because Mak wasn't working for us at the time. (Turns out he talked Ryan Dustin into it.) At the height of it, though, it got pretty bad. I was driving for a while, and I had a beautiful blue Suburban that I'd rented for the trip. We'd had Mak doing a few house show matches and working dark at the tapings to help get Bryan Levy trained (he was green then, he's green now - the kid's never going to get past the 'grass' stage of his development). Mak was going to take some time off the road, though, so we were dropping him off in Philly on the way down to Flair Country for a couple of house shows. He'd stayed up front with me while Ejiro and Bill slept in the middle and back seats, respectively. Since we had some extra time, Mak asked us if we wanted to stay the night. He had a pretty nice guest room, and, well, let's put it this way. After spending some time with Allison, you learn real fast to be content to crash in the living room. WIthin an hour, we were all done for the day, and slept like logs. The next morning, we thanked Mak and headed out. We started motoring down to the Carolinas for the shows, and a few hours later we got there just in time to get warmed up and talk to the agents. I was a face at the time, and we were testing crowd reactions to the Survivor match that main-evented the fall PPV last year, so I was working the main event with Wild & Dangerous against Craven and Justice & Rule for a bunch of house shows. We chatted things out with King, who was a great road agent (by which I mean he let me call the whole match in the ring), and then went back to get ready. That night, and for a few days until we could get ahold of Mak and get our gear overnighted out to us, I worked in an SWF t-shirt and a pair of stretch jeans I picked up at Casual Male Big & Tall. Ejiro and Judge, thank god, scammed a couple of J&R hoodies off the merch crew and worked in gym shorts. I'll bet the fans were confused about why I didn't have the World Title with me. Do I even need to tell you what our bags were full of? Mak's a bastard. It's good to see him back. 2005's starting off great, with him back and a show in my old hometown. I might have to fly up from New York and see if they'll comp me a seat at HSBC to watch this thing go down. I don't know, though. It's just never as fun watching from behind the railing.

I had two very difficult decisions to make. Neither tag match was perfect, of course, but Wild & Dangerous did what I thought was a great job telling a story about themselves without using their opponents as cardboard cutouts to bounce their story off of. Toxxic and Davis wrote a great match, but W&D's just had that feel to it that I'm so fond of invoking as a reason for making my decision. The Rev-0 match just felt like another match to me, while the W&D match felt like something special. The seven-minute challenge was odd because of how Landon chose to end it. I'd like to encourage him to post his losing match, if only to illustrate that despite being an excellent match it lost a lot of points for not using the stipulation the way it could have been used. Also, Sacred's match didn't just go on the prior psychology, it developed it and furthered it in what I felt was a simple but important step. Want to know what it was? Read the match.

When they call your name, instead of "Here" or "Present," shout "Guilty!" At worst, you're excused. If you're lucky, they'll say you poisoned the whole pool and let everyone go home.

So, will Carlson now be contractually free to get a big-boy haircut?

Red Stripe's as often skunked as not. It's not bad beer. It's certainly better than Labatt's, which is what I get in Buffalo. It's just not great beer either.

Scotch.

Unibroue makes a good line, if a little perfumey. I can't drink much of it, and the bastards don't make Quelque'chose anymore. I just picked up a six of Saranac's caramel porter, which I thought was a color description but is in fact a flavor component. I'm still on the fence - I like the slightly sweet caramelness to it, but it's got that awful acidic American beer aftertaste. Sierra Nevada's porter never fucks around with me like that. Bodington's. Also a very good beer, and just about as light as I go unless I'm drinking cider.

Well, it's being done with a purpose this time.

I'd say "post at TSM," but that seems a little glib.

You're not on either list, so you can assume you're not booked. I PM'd everyone who was booked and added the list as a failsafe. I also informed everyone with a match of what had gone on prior and gave them a partial card, then informed the main eventers that they're to close out the show. And deal, just this once.

Are you high?

The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents... SWF SMARKDOWN, MONDAY, JANUARY 10th, LIVE FROM THE HSBC ARENA IN BUFFALO, NEW YORK! (5:00pm PDT, 8:00pm EDT; check local listings) Send marked matches, promos, etc. to Chuck Woolery Odd… no card tonight. Surely that can’t be right. Opening Promo: Spoken for. Scheduled to Appear: Johnny Dangerous! Wildchild! Sean Davis! Manson! Kaine! The Royal Order! Alan Clark! Todd Cortez! "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins! Sacred! Carnage! And more! Backstage Assignments: Mike Van Siclen Thoth TNT Tom Judge If you’re on either list and you didn’t get a match PM’d to you, please contact me.

“Landon.” Toxxic is still in the ring, and the Straight-Edge Sensation has a microphone. The former World Champion is breathing heavily, but still determined to say his piece. “Landon, what has happened in this match doesn’t change a thing between you and me,” Toxxic asserts. “You still have my World Title, and I’m still coming for it. You’ve already managed to do one thing that no-one else ever has - you made me tap out.” “YOU TAPPED OUT! YOU TAPPED OUT!” Toxxic looks around as the chant is picked up by the crowd, but the Brit just shrugs and ignores them. “Now you need to see if you can do another thing no-one’s ever done,” he continues, “and that’s retain a title against me. There has not been one occasion when I have stepped into a ring to challenge for a title and left without it. You will have to face me again; the only way you can get out of it is if you lose that belt to someone else in the meantime.” “I’m not seeing that happening,” LDP laughs, “Landon’s on the top of his game at the moment!” “We’ll see…” King says darkly. “Landon, I look at Martial Law and I laugh,” Toxxic says bluntly. “What exactly are you trying to achieve? You… well, I think I’m right in saying that you were coming for the title, not for me. You wanted to be the best in the world, and who can blame you? But you’ve also decided that you want to stop the Revolution… well, that’s not going to happen.” The straight-edger grins wearily and slaps Sean Davis on the shoulder. “This man is one of the strongest men in the SWF. He’s a three-time Tag Team Champion, three-time Hardcore Gamers’ Champion and the current USJL Champion… and he’s just one man. We’ve also got Sacred, and you know all about him. We’ve got Spike Jenkins, two-time Tag Champion and the longest-reigning Cruiserweight Champion of ALL TIME.” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “You and me, we had our differences before you came for the title,” Toxxic admits. “And Todd Cortez - I retired his tag team partner; I retired Mike Van Siclen. I can see why he’d have something against me. But Clark?” The straight-edger stops his speech and looks up at the Smarktron, as if hoping to see Landon there to clarify things for him. “Landon, what in the name of all that is pointless and annoying made you decide to shack up with Clark? I mean, it wasn’t that long ago that you two were kicking each other’s heads in all across this country.” Toxxic stops to collect his thoughts again, momentarily thrown by the ludicrousness of Landon choosing to team with Alan Clark. “Landon, have you ever heard the theory that everything happens for a reason?” the Straight-Edge Sensation asks. “Well, right here and now in the SWF… that reason is me.” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “King, this guy’s an egomaniac for sure,” LDP complains, “is that why you like him so much?” “This isn’t bollocks Landon, hear me out,” Toxxic continues. “Everything important around here that has happened recently has been because of me. The Cold Front Classic - wouldn’t have been needed if I hadn’t have been kicking the arses of challengers all over the shop. The reason Todd Cortez no longer has a tag team partner? Me. The reason Clark spent two months under a mask pretending to be Mike Van Siclen? Me!” “I knew someone had to be to blame for that…” King hisses. “Let’s go a bit further afield,” Toxxic says, starting to warm to his subject. “The reason Johnny Dangerous became World Champion? Me! He walked down that aisle to take up MY challenge! And the reason he’s no longer World Champion? ME! The reason Wildchild will NEVER get his revenge on Mike Van Siclen? Me again!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “And now, we come down to you,” Toxxic snarls, “Landon ‘La Cucaracha’ Maddix. The reason you became such a star was because you retired Tom Flesher at Genesis V, and you remember why Grand Slam put you on his team? The reason these morons started cheering you at all? Because you came down to help him when he was getting his arse handed to him… BY ME!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “Like it or not, I am the reason things happen in this Federation!” Toxxic yells. “I am the only reason you three can stand in the same ring without ripping each other’s faces off! You cannot stop me without stopping the SWF! Revolution Zero is here to stay, and there is NOTHING you can do about it! You three have banded together for one purpose; to stop me. Well, in that case I say you’re already off to a bad start sunshine, because this is not about you and what you want to do, this is about ME! And in that case, you can NEVER outthink me, because you are merely reacting to me! You can NEVER be as motivated as me, because you are simply seeking to stop me! You have no plan, no agenda of your own beyond me and mine, and that means that we will always beat you! And if you DO have your own agenda…” the Straight-Edge Sensation stops for a breath, and casts a dark glare around at the crowd before returning his attention to the Smarktron. “…then what the hell makes you different to us?” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” There is no music, no sudden change in the Smarktron. However, in the couple of seconds since Toxxic stopped speaking three shapes have suddenly appeared on the soundstage. ‘The Urban Legend’ Todd Cortez Alan Clark Landon ‘La Cucaracha’ Maddix “YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” The trio start to walk down the ramp, each one battered from their earlier matches but each one focused on the two men in the ring. Megan is not with them; Martial Law don’t want to put her at risk, because they know there are two more members of Revolution Zero somewhere. “LET’S GO LAN-DON!” “LET’S GO LAN-DON!” The arena is oddly quiet except for the crowd cheers, no music or mic work going on. Toxxic hands his own mic back through the ropes to Funyon, then turns and stands beside Sean Davis as Martial Law enter the ring. Neither side looks intimidated… and neither side is backing down. “So this is Landon Maddix, holder of the moral high ground,” Suicide King snorts, “coming out here three-on-two?” “No-one’s said it’s going to come to a fight yet King,” LDP points out… but he doesn’t sound too sure. Maddix steps up and stares into Toxxic’s steel-grey eyes, the British leader of Revolution Zero gazing unblinkingly back. Meanwhile Sean Davis measures both Todd Cortez and Alan Clark, casually squeezing one fist in the palm of his other hand. “LET’S GO LANDON!” Toxxic and Landon are nose-to-nose, each one speaking quietly, biting out words that the viewers at home cannot make out. Todd Cortez meanwhile starts talking trash to Sean Davis… ending in a word that looks to lip-readers suspiciously like ‘convict’… “Uh-oh…” King mutters. *WHAM!* Davis lashes out with a right hand that catches Cortez square on the jaw, and the former Tag Chmpion drops like a stone! Alan Clark immediately rushes to his stablemate’s defence and begins raining right hands into Davis as the big man stoops to continue his attack, but by this time Toxxic and Landon are going at it hell for leather as well! “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “Martial Law vs. Revolution Zero!” Pete screams over his mic, “it’s all breaking down here!” “Where’re Spike and Sacred!?” King yells. “To hell with that, where’s security!?” And for once, the SWF’s security staff are on the ball as merely moments after the first punches start flying they are racing down the entrance ramp, and veritable landslide of uniforms and caps intent on stopping the mayhem! Half a dozen surround Sean Davis and pull the Perfect Storm away from Clark and Cortez, who are restrained by another three each. Meanwhile the other ten are equally split between Landon Maddix and Toxxic, half pulling the Straight-Edge Sensation away into the corner while the others bundle Maddix out through the ropes. The crowd aren’t happy that they’ve lost their chance to see Rev-0 taken apart in front of them, but as security haul Martial Law up the entrance ramp and some more try and escort Sean Davis through the crowd Toxxic is left in a small circle of five in the ring… and realising that he won’t have a chance to lay another punch on Landon for a while, the straight-edger raises one black-nailed hand and flips a v-sign at the departing Maddix! Landon tries to get back and give the cocky Brit some more but his attendant guards are having none of it. “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” Laughing, Toxxic turns away from the entrance ramp and looks for Sean Davis. He is surprised to see the big man being escorted away through the crowd… but then something else catches his eye. Something very disturbing indeed. One of the security men has a tattoo going down one side of his neck, a tattoo that seems to disappear under his collar. A tattoo that seems strangely familiar… “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” All of the security men are facing off in the direction of the entrance ramp, but this one surely can’t see much with the way his cap is pulled low over his eyes… “TOXX-IC SUCKS!” With a sinking feeling in his gut, Toxxic steps up behind the security guard and reaches out to remove the cap. “…YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” It is him. “IT’S DACE NIGHT!” Longdogger Pete screams as the Hardcore Brummie turns around, grinning at the aghast Straight-Edge Sensation. “DACE NIGHT IS BACK IN THE SWF!!” “NO!” King shouts. “What’s he doing here!?” *CRACK!* Dace fires off an elbow smash that connects with the weary straight-edger and drops him to the canvas! The other security guards suddenly realise that something is wrong and try to grab Horrorcore, but Dace Night simply shrugs them off and then reaches down to pick the dazed Toxxic up! Before anyone else can do anything he places the leader of Revolution Zero in a standing headscissors, hoists him up and- *BAM!* “POWERBOMB!” LDP yells as Dace drives Toxxic down with all his considerable might, “Dace Night just devastated the former World Champion with a brutal powerbomb!” “Get him out of here!” King yells, seemingly not caring whether or not the baffled security guards can here him or not. “GET THAT MANIAC OUT OF THE RING!” “DACE-DACE-DACE-DACE-DACE-DACE-DACE!!” Dace F’n Night looks around at the crowd in New Hampshire and smiles. It’s good to be back. FADE OUT © 2004 SmartMarks Wrestling Federation 'Making the Panda happy since 2000'

FADE IN The Verizon Wireless Arena is abuzz with anxious anticipation - the thousands of fans in attendance on the edge of their seat. Suddenly, their attention is called to the ring by the sound of the timekeeper’s bell: DING! DING! DING! The camera shifts to Funyon in the center of the ring, as he raises the microphone to his lips. “Ladies and Gentlemen…it is NOW time… for the MAIN EVENT!” Funyon pauses, as the roar of the crowd suddenly becomes too loud for him to continue to speak, anyway. “What a golden opportunity for Wild and Dangerous,” says Longdogger Pete. “A chance for them to three-peat; to become three-times Tag Team Champions!” “Definitely,” agrees the Suicide King. “I’m pumped up for this match; this is a Pay-Per-View quality match coming up!” After the cheers of the crowd begin to recede, Funyon continues. “The following contest is a tag team match, scheduled for one fall… for the SWF… WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP!” The fans renew their raucous cheering as the now-familiar guitar riff signaling the beginning of the Prodigy’s “Fuel My Fire” begins to play! The SmarkTron flashes with a few of the challengers’ more spectacular double-teams, interspersed between the words: WILD! DANGEROUS! “Oh, they’re on their feet here! What an ovation for Wild and Dangerous!” yells Pete. “The challengers are hyped up for this match as well as they should; they have a chance to make history here in New Hampshire!” Wildchild and Johnny meet back up at the head of the ramp and race down towards the ring, slapping hands with the fans at ringside as they run down the ramp! “Introducing first,” says Funyon, as Johnny and Wildchild slide into the ring, “the challengers! At a total combined weight of four hundred thirty-one pounds, WILD! AAAAAAAAND DAAANGEROUS!” “Well, let me tell you,” says King, “if you ask me, the pressure is squarely on the shoulders of Wild and Dangerous!” “Oh, of course it is,” agrees Pete. “Because,” continues King, “if Wild and Dangerous fail to win tonight on Storm, Revolution Zero isn’t going to be eager to give them a rematch, and it could be a long, long time before they’re able to climb the ladder and get themselves another title shot!” “Most definitely,” concedes Pete. “Plus, you’ve got tremendous talent like Martial Law and the Royal Order, just waiting in the wings for the results of this match up!” “And remember,” stresses King, as ‘Fuel My Fire’ fades out, “you’ve GOT to be BEAT the champions! Either pin them, or make them submit; a count-out or a disqualification, and the title remains with the champions!” “Well, that’s the advantage that you have when you are the champions,” adds Pete, “and nobody knows that better than Wild and Dangerous!” “You used to use that out way back in the JL, when you were the European Champion, didn’t you,” jokes King. “Get yourself disqualified?” Before Pete can answer, the arena is flooded in brilliant light, and the SmarkTron whites out completely, as the Champions prepare to make their way to the ring. There is the sound of a phonograph needle scratching across an LP, shortly followed by the words: WEL-WEL-W-W-WELCOME TO THE REVOLUTION! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” Immediately the crashing guitars of 'Battle Ready' by Otep come in, as lightning apparently flashes down from the heavens, striking the stage and leaving an explosion of gold and red pyro in its wake! The SmarkTron flashes with short replays of Revolution Zero decimating its many victims; between the clips, the SmarkTron goes white again and two ominous words alternating together: REVOLUTION! ZERO! Sean Davis and Toxxic step proudly from behind the curtain, with Jet, Rashelle Moore and Marcus Washington trailing behind. Davis is wearing his Tag Team Title belt around his waist, with Washington carrying the USJL title over his own shoulder. Toxxic meanwhile, is also wearing the Tag Team Title around his waist… the last championship belt in his possession. “And their opponents,” Funyon booms, “are accompanied to the ring by Jet, Rashelle Moore and Marcus Washington! At a combined weight of four hundred ninety-nine pounds, here are: the USJL Champion, the ‘Perfect Storm’ Sean Davis… and, the ‘Straight-Edge Sensation,’ Toxxic! Together, they are… the SWF… WORLD… TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS… REVOLUTIOOOOOON... ZEEEEEROOOOOOOO!!” “The champions look confident, Pete,” says King, “as well they should be. Revolution took the SWF by storm in 2004, and they’re going to look to start 2005 strong with a win over Wild and Dangerous!” “Well, King, they may have been dominant for most of 2004,” replies Pete, “but they certainly didn’t end the year on a good note; they last defended the Tag Team Titles almost a month ago on Storm, and since that time, Revolution Zero has faced some adversity, including Toxxic losing the World Heavyweight Championship!” “Don’t worry about the Champions,” warns King, as the ladies retreat to the arena floor. “They’ve got more than enough to beat these guys!” Toxxic, along with Davis, remove the Tag Team Championship belts from around their waists, handing them to referee Ronald “Red” Herrington. Herrington holds the belts aloft, displaying them for the crowd. “I’ll say this for the champions,” concedes Pete, “they appear to be in phenomenal shape! Sean Davis in particular, King; he looks bigger than I’ve ever seen him!” “Well,” replies King, “you heard Funyon announced their combined weight as four ninety-nine, as opposed to their usual four eighty-eight, so Sean Davis obviously spent the holiday break bulking up for this major title defense against the two former champions!” “And there they are,” shouts Pete, as the camera shifts to a view of Wild and Dangerous in their corner, having a last-minute strategy session. “I’ll tell you what, King: I remember when Wild and Dangerous first arrived on the scene here in the SWF; I had the privilege of teaming up with them in their first match on Storm, against members of the Magnificent Seven. I knew, even then, that these two were going to be something special… And since that time, they’ve become two-time Tag Team Champions together, with a chance to make history by becoming the first team in SWF history to become champions for a third time!” “Yeah,” replies King, “but in order for them to do that, they’re going to have to get past two of the greatest wrestlers this business has ever seen! And I’m here to tell you, Pete: you can’t stop a Revolution!” Meanwhile, Red Herrington walks right past them towards the edge of the ring, and leaning through the ropes to hand them over to Funyon. As the ring announcer returns to his seat, Herrington signals the timekeeper to ring the bell, signifying the start of the match: DING! DING! DING! “We’re underway,” says Pete. “Let’s see who’s going to start this one out!” “It looks like it’s going to be Davis and Wildchild,” replies King, as both Toxxic and Johnny retreat to the ring apron. “Sean Davis and Wildchild are, quite arguably, the two best pure athletes in all of professional wrestling,” adds Pete. “This is the first time they’ve ever faced each other in the ring; it’ll be interesting to see who takes the early advantage here!” Wildchild rushes off towards Davis, and Sean raises his arm to greet him with a massive clothesline, but the Bahama Bomber ducks easily, kicking Davis in the midsection as he turns around, and laying into him with quick right jabs to the face! BAP! BAP! BAP! Davis swings for the fences with a big right hook, but Wildchild ducks underneath easily, and comes back with a right jab! Then a left! Then another right! BAP! BAP! BAP! Sean tries to catch him by surprise this time, with a left hook, but it yields the same result, as the Human Hurricane ducks and continues to lay into Davis with quick right hands… WHAM! … But the Perfect Storm stops Wildchild’s momentum in its tracks with a kneelift to the midsection! Johnny looks on in frustration as Davis shakes his head to clear the cobwebs. “Well, Wildchild ran into the Revolution’s corner half-cocked,” notes King, “and he was even able to take an early advantage with his speed, but Davis proves to be too strong, quickly taking over with a knee to the midsection!” “I don’t think that was what Wild and Dangerous had planned on,” adds Pete, “and you can tell by the look on Johnny’s face that it’s not what they discussed!” Sean pushes Wildchild against the ropes and grabs him by the wrist, whipping him across the ring. The Caribbean Cruiser leaps into the air as he rebounds, extending his body to execute a cross-body block… but the Perfect Storm snatches Wildchild out of the air with his massive arms, pivoting sharply on his left foot… WHAM! … As he flattens Wildchild against the mat with a powerslam! He holds on to the leg for a quick cover, but Wildchild kicks out immediately. “And, I like the way that Davis stayed home on that Irish Whip,” says King. “That tells me that Wild and Dangerous weren’t the only team in this match that did some extensive preparation,” explains King, as Sean pulls Wildchild to his feet. “Davis knows that Wildchild is too fast for him to react to if he’s standing near the center of the ring when he comes off the ropes. So he stayed near the other edge of the ring, and waited for Clown-boy to show his hand! Wildchild, for whatever reason, has been rattled out of his game plan; he’s attacking with emotion, and the champions are going to capitalize on it!” Sean drags Wildchild over to a neutral corner, slamming Wildchild’s face hard into the top turnbuckle! He then grabs him by the wrist and whips him across the ring, racing across the ring himself to follow in with a clothesline… but the Caribbean leaps onto the top turnbuckle as he approaches the corner and flips backwards towards the center of the ring! Wildchild scrambles towards the ropes as the Perfect Storm stumbles out of the corner and explodes into action, leaping into the air feet-first… WHAM! … And scoring a dropkick that sends Davis through the ropes and out to the floor! “He didn’t have time to react to that one!” exclaims Pete. “Sean’s still on his feet, though,” counters King. Wildchild races towards the edge of the ring, diving between top and middle ropes feet-first! Davis sees him coming and quickly moves away from the ring apron, but the Human Hurricane grabs onto the ropes and swings effortlessly back into the ring! “He faked him out!” cries Pete, as Wildchild runs back towards the corner. “Wildchild faked him out!” The Tropical Tumbler leaps onto the top turnbuckle as Davis begins to turn around, and dives gracefully out to the floor before the Perfect Storm realizes that he was still in the ring… CRASH! … Extending his body as he crashes into Davis with a flying cross-body! Wildchild gets to his knees and adds a little more damage with a few quick punches to the face before diving back into the ring, immediately getting to his feet and pumping his fist in excitement as the fans roar their approval! ”DUB CEE!” ”DUB CEE!” ”DUB CEE!” ”DUB CEE!” “Listen to this place go crazy for Wildchild!” Pete shouts. “Everybody who came here tonight to cheer for Wild and Dangerous is ecstatic!” “Everybody, that is, except for Johnny Dangerous,” replies King in surprise, as Johnny screams at Wildchild to return to the corner. “Look at Johnny giving static to his own partner!” “I think you’re making too much out of it, King,” replies Pete, as Davis slowly returns to the ring. “It doesn’t look to me like Johnny’s chewing him out; it just looks like he’s trying to calm him down.” “Calm him down?” “That’s right,” continues Pete. “Whatever it was that got Wildchild wrestling on emotion to start this match, Johnny wants him to settle down and get back to the plan that they were talking about… and it looks as if he may have succeeded. That’s why I think that the challengers have the advantage when it comes to continuity!” “Well, they better have the advantage at continuity,” replies King, “because when it comes to size and strength, the edge goes to the champions!” As Davis returns to the ring, Wildchild lines himself up with Revolution Zero’s corner, just out of Toxxic’s reach, and effectively cutting the Perfect Storm off from his partner. Before Sean can make a move towards his opponent, the Caribbean Cruiser raises his arms in a double bicep pose, and then points towards Davis in a challenging manner! “Now, what’s the meaning of this?” wonders King. “I’m not sure,” replies Pete, as Wildchild pantomimes a tug-of-war with Davis. “But, if I didn’t know better, I’d say that Wildchild was challenging Davis to a test of strength!” “Are you serious?” King asks incredulously, as the fans loudly appeal to Wildchild to change his course of action. “I mean, Wildchild probably fell off the tightrope one too many times, but even HE can’t be stupid enough to think that he can match power with the Perfect Storm, can he?” “I don’t know,” replies Pete, as Sean reaches out towards Wildchild’s outstretched arm, “but it looks like Davis has decided to accept the challenge!” “Hah,” snorts King. “This ‘challenge’ should take all of two seconds!” Davis and Wildchild begin to pull against each other, and Davis naturally takes an early advantage, dragging Wildchild across the ring in his direction. Wildchild grasps onto Sean’s huge arm with both hands, and tries to drop his weight as low to the canvas as he can, but to no avail. Wildchild looks up at Davis in what appears to be pure panic as the big man continues to easily pull the Tropical Tumbler towards the corner. “Sean Davis, to the surprise of no one in this arena, is easily handling Wildchild in this test of strength,” says Pete. “Davis is clearly the stronger of the two,” adds King warily, “but he’s dragging Wildchild into the wrong corner! Sean, pay attention to what you are doing out there!” Surely enough, Davis is unwittingly pulling Wildchild towards his own corner. As the Bahama Bomber glances up at his partner, his look of panic suddenly turns into a knowing grin, and before Sean has any idea what’s going on, Wildchild changes direction without warning, shifting his weight forward and rushes at full-speed towards Davis… WHAM! … Powering him into the corner with a running shoulderblock! “Setup!” roars King. “It was a setup!” “Wildchild powered Sean Davis into that corner like he was driving football sleds,” says Pete. “Davis never knew what hit him!” Wildchild takes a step away from the corner as Davis lurches forward, the wind driven out of him. The Tropical Tumbler suddenly leaps off of the canvas, straightening out his legs as he flips backwards… CRACK! … And jams his feet into Davis’ chin with a sensational Flash Kick! Wildchild immediately gets back to his feet and rushes towards the corner… WHAM! … Driving a running back elbow into Sean’s mouth! “What a sudden flurry of offense by Wildchild!” shouts Pete, as the Bahama Bomber makes the tag to Johnny. “And now Johnny Dangerous enters the ring for the first time in the match!” Wildchild and Johnny each grab one of Sean’s wrists, whipping him across the ring and rushing headlong after him, lowering their heads as Davis bounces off the ropes… WHAM! … And driving their shoulders into his midsection, dropping him onto the mat with a double-spear! “What a tremendous double-spear by Wild and Dangerous!” shouts Pete, as Wildchild exits to the ring apron. Johnny gets to his feet and walks towards Sean’s upper body before elevating his right arm as he falls towards the canvas… WHACK! … Driving an elbow-drop into Davis’ unprotected sternum! The Barracuda promptly gets to his feet and does it again! Johnny gets back to his feet once more and appears ready to drop a third elbow, but instead positions his right foot over Davis’ face…and rakes the sole of his boot across Sean’s face! “Aww!” King barks angrily. “Typical unsportsmanlike conduct from Wild and Dangerous - there’s no call for that!” Johnny pulls Davis to his feet and grabs him by the back of the head, leading him towards his own corner, calling towards his partner as he does so. Wildchild lifts his left leg off the apron and drapes it over the top rope… SMACK! … Holding it there as Johnny smashes the Perfect Storm face first into Wildchild’s heel! The Barracuda makes the tag, and Wildchild slings the rest of his body over the top rope into the ring, running to the opposite ropes as Johnny takes Davis over with a snapmare. Wildchild suddenly picks up speed as he rebounds, diving feet-first towards the seated Davis… CRACK! … And blasting him in the face with a basement dropkick! Wildchild immediately scrambles to his feet and leaps onto the top rope, arching backwards as he springs back into the ring… SPLASH! … And landing on top of Davis with a springboard moonsault! Wildchild hooks the leg as referee Herrington dives into position: ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! “Two count only,” says Pete, as Davis rolls onto his back, “but Wild and Dangerous are pulling out all the stops here tonight; they’ve gone deep into their bag of tricks to try to keep the champs guessing!” “Wild and Dangerous have done a good job of keeping the champs guessing,” concedes King, as Wildchild pulls Davis to his feet, “but it’s not going to be enough; Revolution Zero has too much pride to lose to these two cheating pretty boys!” Wildchild pushes Sean against the ropes, grabbing him by the wrist as he prepares to whip him across the ring, but Davis reverses easily, pulling the Caribbean into him and heaving him overhead with a military press! Before Wildchild can find his way free, Davis walks him towards the edge of the ring and releases him… THWACK! … Clotheslining the Tropical Tumbler on the top rope! Wildchild clutches his throat as Davis stumbles over to his corner, where he makes the tag to Toxxic. Sean exits to the apron, still shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, as the former World Champion enters the ring. Toxxic pulls Wildchild to his feet before bending him over backwards, trapping him in an inverted front facelock, before dropping to one knee… CRACK! … And driving Wildchild’s neck into the back of his other knee! Toxxic returns to a standing position, only to drop back down towards the canvas, taking Wildchild along with him… WHAM! … And slamming the Caribbean’s head into the mat with an inverted DDT! “And look at Toxxic go to work with that Detoxx,” marvels King, as the Champion rolls over into a lateral press: ONE! TWO! THR— KICKOUT! Toxxic pulls Wildchild to his feet and leads him over to his corner, slamming him face first into Sean’s waiting boot! “Davis returning the favor for that earlier boot in the corner,” crows King. “I love it!” Toxxic looks towards Johnny with a taunting grin, but the Barracuda refuses to take the bait. “Toxxic trying to rattle Johnny and take him off his game,” notes Pete, “but Johnny’s not going for it; they’ve prepared too well for this match to be suckered in by Toxxic’s tricks!” Nonplussed, the Champion turns his attention back to Wildchild and hammers him in the corner with a few stiff European uppercuts before making the tag to Davis. Toxxic holds Wildchild steady for Sean, who comes in and delivers a clubbing double axe-handle to the back of Wildchild’s neck! “Revolution Zero appear to have decided to target Wildchild’s neck,” notes King, as Davis stuns the Tropical Tumbler with a headbutt to the back of the head! He then wraps his massive arms around Wildchild’s waist, popping his hips as he arches backwards and snatching Wildchild off the canvas… WHAM! … Dropping him on his neck with a wicked release German Suplex! “My God, what a suplex,” groans Pete, as Davis crawls over to make the pin: ONE! TWO! THREE— NO! “Johnny made the save!” Pete sighs in relief, as the Barracuda rushes in to break up the pinfall. Davis pulls Wildchild to his feet and pushes him back into his corner, as Red Herrington orders Johnny back outside the ring. “He may have made the save,” replies King, as Toxxic proceeds to bind the tag rope around Wildchild’s throat. “But he didn’t do his partner any favors; he’s got the referee tied up, and now the Revolution’s going to go to work!” Herrington gets Johnny back onto the apron, but Davis walks across the ring, keeping the referee between him and the Barracuda as Toxxic continues to apply the pressure! “He certainly does, King,” agrees Pete. “It’s wrapped around his neck!” “Excellent teamwork by Revolution Zero,” crows King. “Hey, they’re the champs; you do whatever it takes to hold onto the titles!” Davis finally returns to his corner, ensuring that Herrington sees him make the tag to Toxxic. Toxxic comes in and immediately begins to pull him into a standing headscissors, reaching around Wildchild’s body for both of his arms. “He’s going for the Toxxic Shock Syndrome,” says King. “If he hits this, it’s all over!” Toxxic hooks both of Wildchild’s arms, but before he can cinch his hands together, Wildchild counters, sending Toxxic sailing overhead with a back-body drop! Wildchild drops back to his knees as he tries to recover, as Toxxic gets back to his feet. The Straight-Edge Sensation grabs Wildchild by the hair and pulls him roughly to his feet, leading him over to the corner to ram Wildchild into the turnbuckle, with his foot… WHAM! … But the Caribbean blocks the attempt rams him face-first into the turnbuckle instead! Wildchild tries to make his way towards his partner, but Toxxic grabs him by the back of his tights and pulls him back into the corner. Toxxic prepares to deliver another European uppercut… BAP! … But Wildchild blocks it, and hits him with a right hand! BAP! BAP! Wildchild continues to back Toxxic out of the corner, but the Straight-Edger stops his momentum cold with a thumb to the eye! Toxxic rams Wildchild back into the corner, and then grabs him by the wrist before whipping him across the ring, but the Bahama Bomber reverses! Toxxic leaps onto the top turnbuckle as he approaches the corner, springing backwards towards the center of the ring and twisting in midair to deliver a flying clothesline… WHAM! … But Wildchild leaps into the air, countering with a dropkick that nails Toxxic in the teeth! “What a dropkick!” shouts Pete, as Wildchild begins to crawl towards his corner. “Wildchild countered the Role Reversal; I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before! But, can he make the tag?” “It’s going to be a question of who tags first,” replies King, as Wildchild reaches towards Johnny’s outstretched hand. “Dammit! And he made it!” The fans erupt as Johnny charges into the ring, well rested and on fire! Wildchild rolls out onto the apron as Johnny grabs Toxxic by the hair and leads him back towards the neutral corner, bashing his face into the top turnbuckle once more! “These two teams have been very evenly matched,” says Pete, “with neither team able to establish dominance for any length of time, but Johnny’s trying to give his team the advantage right now!” As Toxxic staggers back towards the center of the ring, Johnny grabs him by the wrist and whips him across the ring… SMACK! … Smashing him in the face as he bounces off the ropes with a stiff Shotei that sends him to the mat! Johnny drops to his knees to make a cover: ONE! TWO! NO - Davis enters the ring to break up the count, but Johnny sees him coming and springs to his feet, thrusting his leg forward as Sean steps through the ropes and tagging him with a Johnny Kick! CRACK! The stunned Davis staggers back towards his corner as Johnny pulls Toxxic to his feet and whips him into the ropes… WHAM! … Nailing him as he rebounds with a vicious elbow smash to the face! But, before the Barracuda can capitalize, Davis sneaks up behind him and traps him in a Full Nelson! Marcus Washington leaps onto the ring apron to distract Herrington as Sean lifts Johnny off the canvas… WHAM! … And compresses Johnny’s spine with a devastating Full Nelson atomic drop! Marcus continues to divert the referee’s attention as Davis pulls Johnny up, holding him as Toxxic gets to his feet. The Straight-Edger leaps towards his opponent to deliver a spinning wheel kick… CRACK! … But the Barracuda wriggles out of Sean’s grasp, leaving the Perfect Storm to take on the full force of Toxxic’s kick! Toxxic gets back to his feet, astonished, and Johnny springs into action, leveling his rival with a clothesline! Meanwhile, Wildchild, seemingly feeling a second wind, slides surreptitiously back into the ring as Davis stumbles backwards… CRASH! …And rushes towards the big man, leaping into the air and crashing into his chest with a cross-body block that sends them BOTH tumbling over the top rope! Wildchild stirs before Sean, but still appears to be disoriented, stumbling about and leaning against the barricade for support. Marcus Washington sneaks around the corner, briefcase in hand, and raises it above his head as if he intends to smash it down on Wildchild, but the Caribbean sees him coming, and chases him away! “Looks like Wildchild has had enough of Washington,” says Pete. Marcus flees up the ramp to safety, and Wildchild turns his attention back towards Davis… WHAM! … But Davis drops him with a HUGE right hand, and follows it up by pulling Wildchild back to his feet… CLANG! … Only to slam him headfirst into the steel stairs! Sean staggers away from Wildchild and reaches down to the arena floor, pulling up the protective padding! He then goes back over to Wildchild and drags him over to the uncovered concrete. “Davis exposed the concrete,” crows King. “He’s going to put Wildchild’s lights out permanently!” Davis traps Wildchild in a standing headscissors, wrapping his arms around the Caribbean’s waist and lifting him into the air… WHAM! … But Wildchild squirms out of Davis’ grip, draping his leg across Sean’s neck and driving him face-first into the concrete with a Caribbean Cutter! “Cutter!” Pete exclaims. “Down goes Davis” “This is horrible,” moans King, as both men lie motionless on the arena floor. “I can’t believe that Wildchild would stoop so low as to use the concrete!” “Turnabout is fair play, King,” replies Pete as, back in the ring, Johnny moves in for the kill – scooping Toxxic off the mat with a fireman’s carry as the crowd rises to their feet… “MI SLAM!” exclaims Pete, but the Straight-Edger shoves off from Johnny’s shoulders before the move can be delivered and lands several feet to the side of his opponent! He’s spared himself from possibly losing the match, but more importantly, with Johnny momentarily off balance, he’s given himself a second to take control over this match and he moves in to do just that - catching Dangerous, just as he spins around, with a ferocious European uppercut! WHAM! “OH!” Pete winces at the impact as Johnny is simply floored. “What a stiff blow that was - I think everyone here felt that!” “He’s bought himself some time,” adds King. “I’d suggest that he desperately needs to get to his corner and make a tag, but thanks to that cheating punk, Wildchild, Davis isn’t where he needs to be - it’s all resting on Toxxic’s shoulders right now!” Resting against the ropes, Toxxic tries to quickly gather himself as Johnny rolls over onto his knees, cradling his jaw. He finally shoves off, forcing himself onward and grabs Dangerous by his head to pull him to his feet. However, the fight is far from over, and Johnny jabs at his opponent’s stomach, desperately trying to regain the advantage, only to have the Champion respond in kind with a double axe-handle to the Barracuda’s back! “OOOOOOOOOOOOH!” Toxxic pulls his opponent back up again then rocks Johnny with a forearm to his head! Dangerous stumbles back as a hand instinctively goes to his face, but he knows there is no time to nurse wounds now, and he swings in retaliation when the Straight-Edger moves in to close the distance! WHAM! Toxxic staggers for a second and then, like Dangerous before him - refusing to hand control over – blasts Johnny once more… CRACK! … Only to eat another one from the Barracuda! WHACK! “Nobody’s throwing in the towel just yet!” shouts Pete, as the crowd starts to come alive, watching these two continue to trade shots back and forth. “It’s a battle of wills here – whose is stronger, and whose can outlast the others!” CRACK! WHAM! SMACK-SMACK!! Toxxic finally gets the edge in, nailing Johnny with two consecutive shots! At last, daylight seems to be breaking for the Champion and his resolve, while Dangerous’ is starting to crack. The Agent is reeling, and he staggers back a step, unable to offer any resistance as Toxxic flings in a tremendous left hand! WHACK! “Toxxic’s really heating up now!” shouts King, right before the Straight-Edger follows up immediately with a- RIGHT! WHACK! “Here comes the combo!” LEFT! WHACK! RIGHT! WHACK! “Discus Clothesline!” King cheers Toxxic on, anticipating the wind up and delivery, but there will be no showboating for the Champion tonight – it’s time to end this madness for once and for all! He offers up a boot to Johnny’s gut instead, doubling him over into a front face lock as the crowd rises to their feet, shouting in horror – they know where this is leading… and it’s not the direction they had hoped for! “Caffeine Bomb on the way!” shouts King, confirming the fans’ worst fear as the Straight-Edger motions his hand in the air. “This match is done!” BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Clenching down on Johnny’s skull gives Toxxic complete control over his opponent’s body, and he forcefully jerks the Barracuda backwards with him towards the center of the ring while driving several knees into him to subdue whatever fight has stubbornly refused to leave, “-and this is not how this was suppose to go!” shouts Pete. “Wild and Dangerous have trained too hard – they can’t fail!” “But they’re about to!” snaps King, having to shout over the livid fans. “Revolution Zero will not be undone!” Toxxic shoots for Dangerous’ leg to put this Caffeine Bomb into motion as the crowd continues to hurl massive jeers- “Revolution Zero’s determination will not falter,” King continues as the Straight-Edger lets out a final deep breath of air then hauls Johnny up- “They will not… HOLY (BLEEP) – LOOK OUT!” CRAAACK! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! Before he can get Johnny all the way up, a bare foot suddenly catches him in the head, right on the bridge of his nose… and the crowd goes ABSOLUTELY BALLISTIC! “IT’S THE WILDCHILD, BY GOD!” Pete excitedly shouts, as the Bahaman’s leg lariat puts a stop to the Caffeine Bomb, flattening the Champion on the canvas to a blistering roar of cheers! “Toxxic was a little too slow getting that Caffeine Bomb into motion and Wildchild looked to be lying in wait for the perfect time to strike!” “Another example of Wild and Dangerous’ unsportsmanlike conduct!” roars King, as Wildchild pulls Toxxic up to his feet and drapes one of the Champion’s arms over his shoulder then waits for his partner to finally drag himself back up and join him on the other side of the Straight-Edger. “It doesn’t look like they’ll be slowing down with it, either – here comes another attempt!” Herrington yells at Wildchild to exit the ring, but he isn’t listening. Together, Wild and Dangerous grab Toxxic by his tights and lift him up for a vertical suplex…then stalls…and finally drop backwards, sending the Champion back-first into the canvas! WHAM! Wildchild kips back up to his feet and motions both of his hands by his shoulders then quickly brings them forward, “-the signal for the Dangerous Drop!” shouts Longdogger, as the fans cheer in anticipation. Johnny nods in response and the Bahaman takes off towards the opposite side of the ring, only to be startled to catch an eyeful of Sean Davis getting himself back on the apron! “Not so fast, Pete; Toxxic isn’t the only strong-willed member of Revolution Zero! Davis isn’t going to let these bastard stepchildren of the tag division rob them of their gold so easily!” Wildchild shifts gears, heading for Davis as Johnny, unaware of the looming threat, heads over towards Toxxic… “This could get ugly, really fast!” Davis lunges an arm out for the Bahaman, but Wildchild drops to the mat and slides right under the bottom rope, between Davis’ legs, coming out directly behind the Perfect Storm! Johnny spins around just in time to see his partner slide through to the outside, and grab hold of Davis by his ankles to pull legs out from under him, sending his chin on a downward path with the ring apron- CRACK! "OOOOOOOOOOH!" -Just as Toxxic lunges up at the distracted Agent, putting all he has left into a rather sloppy Super Kick that catches Dangerous right in the side of his noggin, just as he spins back around! CRACK! "OOOOOOOOOOOOOH!!" “Dear God,” says Pete, wincing with the crowd after Davis’ chin bounces off the apron like a well-aired basketball and sends his whole body toppling to the floor and Johnny simultaneously drops like a stone! “Wildchild’s keeping Davis at bay, but I don’t think he saw the kick Toxxic just dealt to his partner!” “If he was in his proper place, he’d have seen it,” King cheerfully adds, anticipating the pin fall as Toxxic drops to his knees and crawls over towards his opponent, breathing heavily, but breathing heavy sighs of relief, then drops over Johnny’s chest for the cover… ONEEEE!!! TWOOOOO!!!! THR-NOOOOOOO!!!!! “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!” “Johnny kicks out! I knew there wasn’t enough mustard in Toxxic’s delivery!” beams Pete, as an irate Toxxic pounds his fist into the mat. “The challengers are strong-willed in their own right – he’ll need to knock him out clean!” Wildchild’s attention is caught by the roaring cheer of the fans and realizes that he nearly missed what could have been the final fall! He watches as Toxxic grabs Johnny by slapping on a quick arm wrench and pulls as hard as he can to drag the man back up to his feet. The Bahama Bomber knows that he has to act quickly - another big hit could be fatal! Davis is down on his hands and knees; figuring that he shouldn’t be a problem for now, Wildchild quickly rushes towards Sean, leaping onto his back, and using it as a stepping-stone to return to the apron! “Not again!” cries King. “Somebody keep that idiot out of the ring!” Toxxic goes to whip the Barracuda across the ring, but Johnny suddenly digs his feet in and reverses the move, sending the Champion for the ride instead! Johnny just barely catches sight of his partner’s position, but that slight glimpse is all he needs to see! He lowers his head as Toxxic bounces back off the ropes towards him and lifts the Straight-Edger high into the air with a big back body-drop while the Human Hurricane leaps onto the top rope and explodes off of it… WHAAAACK!!! … Blasting the Tag Champion in the face with a flying forearm! “RRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!” “SILVER BULLET!” exclaims Pete. “WE’VE GOT NEW CHAMPIONS!” Wildchild crashes to the canvas atop Toxxic, rolling off him only for Johnny to apply the cover. Davis struggles back to his feet, but Wildchild lunges through the ropes, crashing into him with a suicide dive to keep him from re-entering the ring, as Herrington makes the count, with the crowd loudly counting along… Toxxic, great and proud champion that he is, still has some fight left in him. In fact, his strength of will may be greater than any single competitor in all the SWF… ONEEEEE!!!! … But, unlike Toxxic and Sean Davis, Wild and Dangerous aren’t merely two individuals who tag together… They truly are two hearts, beating as one… Two minds, thinking as one… And two wills, fighting together as one… TWOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! … And, while Toxxic may be stronger willed than any one man, against the combined will of two men united, he cannot sustain! THREEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!! “RRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!” DING! DING! DING! “IT’S OVER! IT’S…ALL…OVER!” shouts Pete, joyously pumping his fist in the air. The deafening roar of over twelve thousand fans is nearly enough to shake the entire building loose from its foundation, but even happier than those in attendance are Johnny and Wildchild! They shout excitedly they share a manly embrace, knowing that every bit of sweat and pain they poured into preparing for this has paid off! “History made, here in the Verizon Wireless Arena, as Wild and Dangerous Three-peat! WHAT A MATCH!” The overwhelming joy for Wild and Dangerous is lost on Davis, obviously, as he crawls into the ring on his knees towards Toxxic with his mouth gaping wide open, stunned to find the leader of the Revolution knocked senseless and on his back. He sorrowfully looks down at the mat when Herrington presents the tag titles to his opponents, unable to watch one more prize lost from Revolution Zero. “The winners of this match by pinfall!” bellows Funyon. “And… NEEEEEEEW… SWF WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS … WIIIIIIILD!! AAAAAAAAAAAAND DAAANGEROUUUS!!!” BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!! An explosion of pyrotechnics brings “Fuel My Fire” into full swing and Wild and Dangerous, the new Champions, take off to opposite corners of the ring to climb the turnbuckles and raise their new prize out to the fans! “Victory, for the new Champions, has probably never before tasted so sweet,” says Pete, “nor has the glimmering gold of those belts looked more beautiful than they do now! Wild and Dangerous have completely smashed any record set before them in Tag Team Championship reigns with this win – what a night!” “Why don’t you go hump their leg while you’re at it, Pete!” huffs King. As they continue to celebrate inside the ring, Wild and Dangerous notice Revolution Zero and their entourage retreating backstage. The look in their eyes tells the newly crowned Champions that they’ll be back, but Wildchild and Johnny smile at each other, knowing that, while they surely haven’t heard the last of Toxxic and Davis, for at least one night… They have brought the Revolution to a screeching halt. As we: FADE OUT

As SWF Lockdown comes blasting back onto live television, SWF Journalist Ben Hardy, standing backstage with a microphone in hand: “With mere moments before the big main event,” begins Hardy, “I’m standing here with the two-time former SWF Tag Team Champions, and the challengers in tonight’s match, Wild and Dangerous! Gentlemen, I saw how hard you were training over the holidays; ever since you made your return to the SWF, you’ve had the singular focus of getting another opportunity at the Tag Team Titles, and now the moment is at hand!” “All of the sacrifice and training, and it all comes down to this,” says Johnny. “The time is now! The moment, as you say, is at hand! But most importantly, we’re ready! Revolution Zero is one of the most powerful groups in the history of the SWF, but they’re a group of individuals; what you see here standing next to you is the greatest team in all of professional wrestling, and we will not be denied our goal!” “What about you, Wildchild,” asks Hardy, looking at the Bahama Bomber. “What are your thoughts on tonight’s match?” Wildchild’s eyes suddenly flashed with a fiery intensity. “You want t’ know my thoughts? DO YOU… WANT… T’ KNOW MY THOUGHTS? Here’s what my thoughts: I t’ink dat when we get done wit’ de Revolution, dere’ won’ be enough left of dem t’ fit in a conch shell!” With this, he turns to face the camera. “An’ Toxxic… de only t’ing you’ve got t’ look forward to is a Dangerous Drop!” “Hey man, settle down, Nic,” Johnny says calmly. Turning back towards Hardy he says, “You’ll have to forgive my partner, Ben; he’s a little anxious tonight, but, so am I! Anxious to once-again regain the SWF Tag Team Championship! Revolution Zero, ever since Dub Cee and I returned to the fed, you’ve been on borrowed time, and in just a few more minutes, your time is about to run out!” “Dey say dat you can’t stop a Revolution,” Wildchild says loudly, “because dey have a way of always come back around in your face… Well, Revolution Zero, after de Wild an’ Dangerous ride we put you on tonight, de only t’ing you’re goin’ t’ be revolvin’ around is a hospital bed!” “Tonight,” adds Johnny, “is the night that we distinguish ourselves from the other great tag teams in SWF history. What you see before you aren’t simply two great athletes. We are one; heart and soul. We think as one, we fight as one, and in just a few minutes… we’re going to triumph as one!” “And on that note,” says Ben, “let’s get back to ringside!” As we: FADE OUT

“Get the fuck out of here!” The young boy walked away with a rejected look on his face as Frisco took a sip from his soda. “I hate it when they hound you for your autograph!” Candace quickly caught the boy by the hand and pulled him over to her. She signed his baseball cap and gave him a wide smile as he left the table with at least one pleasant experience. “You really should be nice” she said to Frisco as he rolled his eyes dismissively. “…at least once in a while” Frisco glanced anxiously at his Rolex. “Where the fuck is Carnage?” Candace glanced across the food Court at the Manchester Mall in search of the SWF resident maniac. He was no where in sight. “Are you sure he knows where to meet us?” Frisco took another sip from his soda. “I told him to meet us in the food court in twenty minutes. He should be able to handle that!” The clerk at the Build-a-Bear store glanced nervously at the near seven foot tall behemoth standing in the entranceway to the store. A group of young children quickly scurried to the protection of their parents as Carnage slowly entered the store. He glanced nervously around the room for just the right present. His eyes settled on a white Bear in a Santa suit nestled in the corner of the store. He hurried over to it and grabbed it from the shelf. “Sir…Hi!” said a little man with greasy hair and a Bow-tie. “My name is Ron and I’m the Build-a-Bear sales associate. Can I help you with something?” Carnage glared at the annoying little troll and shoved the Bear in his face. “You’d like to buy Mr. Stuffy?” A frown quickly grew on Carnages lips as he reluctantly nodded in agreement. “Ok…well then…please take a Mr. Fluffy from the bin then” Carnage glanced down to a large tub filled with the unstuffed cloth carcasses of hundreds of white Bears. He angrily put his original choice down and grabbed one from the bin. “Very good” the annoying Bow-tie wearer said as he headed over to a bench in the corner of the store. “Would you like to make him talk?” the clerk said as Carnage was beginning to attract a crowd. He glared at several on lookers, and then turned his attention back to the salesclerk. “You need to pick a voice pack!” Carnage glanced over at a large wooden box with hundreds of little canvas bags. Each bag contained a small voice box for the bears made in the store. He reached down and grabbed on closest to him. The clerk gave the box a quick squeeze as a high pitched voice blurted out loudly in the store… “Ma Ma…Ma Ma!” “Oh very good choice!” The clerk responded as Carnage felt an over powering urge to Tombstone him into the linoleum flooring. “Now pick a heart!” the clerk said enthusiastically. Carnage reached into another huge bin with hundreds of little red cloth heart. He again opted for the closest heart to him and quickly pulled it from the box. The clerk stared at Carnage as he dropped a hand full of the little heart on the counter next to him. “Only one now…you wouldn’t want Mr. Stuffy to have too many hearts!” Carnage glared at the annoying clerk and picked up a single heart. The clerk quickly pushed the remaining hearts back into the bin and turned to face Carnage. “Now hold it to your head and make a wish!” Carnage appeared in deep thought as he silently wished he could disembowel the salesclerk before the day was done. A quick lopsided grin flashed on his face as he handed the heart back to the clerk. “What did you wish for?” the clerk asked as Carnage just glared at him in silence. “Let me guess…world peace?” In the distance Candace spotted Carnage heading towards the food court. A relieved smile flashed across her face as she pointed him out to Frisco. “About Fuckin’ time!” he scowled as he gestured to Carnage to come over to the table. The SWF monster quickly hurried over carrying a large plastic bag in his huge left hand. “What’s that?” Frisco asked as Carnage placed the bag on the table. Carnage removed a large cardboard Box with “Build-a-Bear” written in large red letters on the side. He offered a slight smile, and then handed the box to Candace. A look of surprise flashed over her face as she appreciatively accepted it.

“I have no direction.” SWF Lockdown comes back on air with a shot of the veteran Munich standing outside of the Verizon Wireless Arena. The dark cement wall behind Munich gives him some relaxation, as he smokes a cigarettes the only place that he can. In between puffs of his cigarette, he exhales steam. After noticing that smoking does not make the area surrounding him any much more different than what it usually is, he looks into the camera. “I entered the JL nearly four years ago, and advanced to the WF only a few months later. Yet, I have never found myself in the Clusterfuck Battle Royal. I am now in a perplexing situation. The Clusterfuck is in about three weeks or so, and I do not know what to expect. I have never fought inside of a wrestling ring for more than thirty minutes my entire career, and now; if I wind up as the first entry in the match, I may be in the ring for up to an hour, maybe longer if someone up there wants my lungs to pop out of my chest. Maybe I should make the proper sacrifices in order to last the entire match.” Munich takes a sharp inhale from his endurance destroying cigarette. “No matter what number I am in this match, I do have one underlying advantage over every other man or woman on this night. I uhm; don’t have any direction; at all. No one knows me. No one hates me. I have not had the opportunity to snick my nose in any important business in this place. Meanwhile, I have had no business to speak of. If I do win Clusterfuck, it will not be due to my talent, my physical fitness, or anything much like that. I will win the match because I will be in the shadows, and not a soul will suspect me of winning. Not a soul will fear me.”

Manson v. "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins Match Background: Manson had been feuding with Revolution Zero for some reason. Manson and Jenkins have faced off multiple times, often with Manson coming out the victor. This match is for a future undisclosed title shot. The Match: Jenkins with a spinning neckbreaker on Manson. Spear by Manson. Covers for a quick two count. Manson once again takes the advantage after blocking a few punches and connecting with some forearms. Trying to channel the spirit of Misawa, Jenkins ends up chanelling Lex Luger instead and nails a running forearm to the face, minus the steel plate, of course. Bodyslam by Jenkins. There's a two count on the pin. Brutal sit out powerbomb on Jenkins! Pin, but Jenkins is out just before the three count. Manson with a spinning neckbreaker on Jenkins, much better than the one Jenkins performed before. Jenkins kicks Manson in the gut to reverse the momentum. Jenkins crushes Manson with a running senton. There's a two count on the pin. Spinning fisherman's suplex on Jenkins. Pin, but Jenkins is out just before the three count. Big dropkick by Jenkins, who got a ton of air on the move. Jenkins hits some punches. How generic. Shades of Danny Dagda! Manson blocks the suplex attempt and is able to hit the suplex instead! BAAAAAACK Body drop by Jenkins. Jenkins busts out a shining wizard worthy of Kenzo Suzuki himself. Big spinning elbow smash by Manson. Here it comes - Consequences by Manson. 1....2...3, it's finished. Manson remains in the ring, celebrating the victory. My Opinion: *****, naturally Manson carried this contest, because Spike is a jerk. WINNER: Manson "(LDP) LOL WTF" "(King) i dunno."

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

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