SWF Storm (July 12/2002)

July 13, 2002

The sound of a cold wind whistles through the darkened Mile One arena. Suddenly several medium sized white pyros explode in the center of the stage as a rain of blue sparks cascades down to the stage in front of the SmarkTron. After a few seconds the lights return, scan an excited audience with some badass signs.

Stevens: “It's time for yet another rollicking fun edition of SWF Storm! I'm Mark Stevens.”

Riley: “And I'm his evil announcing partner, Bobby Riley!”

Stevens: “It sounds like we’ve done this before.”

Riley: “Probably!”

“LIGHTS OUT!!

GUERILLA RADIO!!

TURN THAT SHIT UP!!”

Rage Against The Machine’s ‘Guerilla Radio” hits the speakers, and the crowd quickly starts up the boos. Stubby steps through the curtains himself. Followed closely by Jay Dawg, with the hardcore title around his waist. And seconds later, Deputy Commish, the Suicide King follows himself.

Funyon: “Ladies and Gentleman! PLEASE WELCOME CREATIVE CONTROL!!!”

The crowd continues to boo as the men walk down the ramp.

Riley: “Now here is a stable of class, elegance and sheer dominance!”

Stevens: “Why don’t you stick your head between there legs like every other guy!?”

Riley: “Watch it commentator boy.”

Stevens: “Just try it, Riley. Anyway here comes the Nauseating group of Creative Control. I’m sure they are here to whine or brag about something.”

Riley: “Ah blow it out your ass.”

JD and the Suicide King dive in under the bottom rope, as Stubby takes the stairs. The Suicide King grabs the Mic from Funyon and tells him to exit the ring. “You’re an asshole!” The audience chants and claps, and the deputy commish smiles his pearly whites to all of them. Patiently waiting for them to slow down, he finally speaks.

King: “Ladies and Gentleman! How good is it of me to grace you with my presence? But I’m sorry to tell you, that is not all I’m hear for today!”

Stevens: “Oh whoopitidy doo! The King wants to speak! Bring out the red carpet!”

King: “Now there is some problems in this league! The first one being, Edwin MacPhisto is both World champ and tag team champion! Why in the fuck is this happening!? This is the man I put out with ease and yet you guys let him rule the league! What is wrong with you people!? But you know what… fuck it. I have other plans for you and the Carnival, Edwin. Stubby on the otherhand, has something in store for all of you!”

King passes the Mic over to Stubby, who gets a loud, hateful response. Stubby shakes his head as he begins to speak.

Stubby: “Upon looking into this league! There seems to be one big fucking feud going on. I look harder, and it’s between 15 people who think they are in charge of the league!? Allow me to put it bluntly. WHAT THE FUCK… IN FACT… WHO THE FUCK DO THEY THINK THEY ARE!!!? Have they forgotten about the people who sign their paychecks? The ones who give them their title shots!?”

The fans explode with a highly negative response, front row to bleachers is a wave of boos on a collision course with the three men in the ring. Jay Dawg stands there, his eyes closed at the crowd, as Stubby and King shake their head.

Stevens: “Listen to this crowd! They have such a large distaste for Stubby!”

Riley: “But he has a point! He runs this league! Not even Wilson the Magnificent!”

Stubby: “Now you people may wonder, which side am I on? Who does the man, with all the cards side with? Well let’s see… there is either the power hungry Wilson… the power hungry Clan… or the gold hogging Carnival… Do you want to know who will have the advantage now, in this war!?”

An emphatic “YES!!” overshadows the boos. Stubby chuckles to himself as the crowd quiets down.

Stubby: “I said do you want to hear what side the power will go to!?”

The fans once again shout an ear shattering “YES!!!” clapping their hands and stomping their feet.

Stevens: “What side is Stubby and the Creative Control going to side with!?”

Stubby: “The answer people… IS NEITHER!!”

Many creative insults that involve Stubby’s ass being violated come out, as the commissioner makes his decision.

Stevens: “What!? He has to have a side!”

Stubby: “Now I’m going to be honest with you. Despite our differences in the past, I was siding towards Wilson. I mean the Carnival are the Kings of annoyance! And the Clan, we all know my problems with those men. Spider, you have guts coming back here. But Wilson… YOU WERE GIVEN A GOLDEN OPPORTUNITY AND YOU FUCKING FAILED!!! YOU HAD SIX MEN HELP YOU OUT AND YOU COULDN’T GET THAT BELT OFF HIM!!! I EVEN SENT DAWG AFTER EDWIN TO WEAKEN HIM!! DESTROYING USES OF HIS ARM!!! Wilson you fucking idiot. You are a choke artist. But that’s not what gets me. You see you have the nerve to say Creative Control, a group that the two ultimate powers control, are no threat to you? Wilson… you’ve made the biggest mistake of your life. You defied the power that was given to you. The Carnival and the Clan have done that… and with the exception of Edwin, look where they are now. Hell, Edwin had to do King’s bidding and get rid of Mark to even get his title shot. How’s it going, Mark?”

“BOOOOOOOOO!!!” The verbal assault is near deadly, as the audience goes insane, standing up for one of there most loved favorites. The camera catches a close up of Stevens, as he coldly stares into the ring, his eyes burning a hole into both King and Stubby. The Suicide King simply waves, grinning ear to ear, looking for Stevens to start something. The commentator remains calm, as Stubby finishes his speech, handing the Mic to Jay Dawg. The ovation is less then pleasant, but JD ignores it.

Jamie: “You see this hardcore title?”

JD says, pointing to his title-covering waist.

Jamie: “This strap was once a legend in this business! Held by many great competitors! Including Grimedogg, Neilsen of the Fucking Jungle, G.O.A.T, hell even Perfect Bo and Fallout were awesome champs! This title meant something!”

The fans cheer at some of the legendary hardcore champions. JD lowers his head, letting the fans say their bit. He begins speaking once again, his head lowered though.

Jamie: “I watched, as I became the only 3-time US champion. Sacred and I becoming the tag champs in the process. I watched, as a goofy piece of shit won this title! Guys like Ash Ketchum and Stryke feuded for this title! People like Xstasy and Misstress Sarah!? Dumb son of a bitches with redneck names like Long Doggah!? WHAT THE FUCK!!!? An X-Box in a hardcore title match!? This is not a comedy fest! This is supposed to be violence, pain!”

Stevens: “Jay Dawg showing signs of being upset at the way the hardcore division has gone!”

Riley: “At last, we have a credible hardcore champion!”

Jamie: “I showed the world, last Monday, just how hardcore I can be! Ash Ketchum, an insignificant fucking speck! I have bigger fish to fry! Guys at the top, which thinks they own this place! My buddy and I will show you! We will show you all! But something came to my attention. On Smarkdown, I made a mistake.”

Stevens: “What is Jay Dawg talking about!?”

Jamie: “You see, Misty interfered in my match. I powerbombed her to the outside. You see, word in the back is that… that she’s pregnant.”

The crowd cheers for the bundle of joy. JD holds his hand up, trying to get them to calm down.

Jamie: “Like I said, it was a mistake. Because if I knew she was pregnant…

Long pause…

“I WOULD HAVE PUT THAT BITCH THROUGH THE TABLE RIGHT NEXT TO HER BOY!!! The last thing this world needs is another Ash Ketchum!”

Riley: “Damn fucking rights!”

Stevens: “That sick son of a bitch! What is his problem!?”

Jamie: “Enough of that! Tonight I have Frost. A huge talent, no doubt. He had become sick of destroying little bitty chess pawns! Jobbers of the lower ranks! Flaunting his skill! He even made a challenge for the hardcore title. Which I am happy to accept! But then you made a mistake, son. You made such a huge mistake, that I have to show you the video of it.”

JD points to the SmarkTron, as the lights go out. Footage of last Smarkdown is shown, where Frost is outside, very mad after his match.

Frost: “THE SWF WANTED ME! I DIDN’T WANT THEM! THE POWERS AT BE WANT TO SEE HOW BRUTAL I CAN BE! MCWEED WANTS TO FEEL THE VIOLENCE PULSING THROUGH HIS MONITOR! (he points at the camera) I’LL SHOW HIM AND THE WORLD HOW SADISTIC I CAN BE! ON STORM, I WANT A SHOT AT THE HARDCORE TITLE! I DEMAND A SHOT AT THE HARDCORE TITLE! I NEED A SHOT AT THE HARDCORE TITLE! AND IF I DON’T GET IT, THERE WON’T BE A HARDCORE CHAMPION BREATHING TO DEFEND IT!”

The SmarkTron flickers off, and JD can be seen looking to Stubby and King, questioning it.

Jamie: “Frost? Did I hear you right? There won’t be a hardcore champ breathing to defend it? That sounds like a threat, Frost. Who the fuck do you think you are!? In fact, who do you think I am?”

For the first time tonight, JD opens his eyes.

Jamie: “Look up there! Fifteen steel feet of cage! Frost… you made a big fucking mistake! You threatened me! Tonight Frost. It is no secret, I am going to hurt you. I will send a message for Stubby, to Wilson, with your fucking carcass! Do you understand!? I am going to FUCK YOU UP BEYOND REPAIR YOU COCKY SON OF A BITCH!!! You are fucking dead. In short…” JD looks into the camera. “I’m going to hurt you.”

His eyes go red, his anger fuming.

Jamie: “I am going to start with you. An example will be made. Then I’ll move on, TNT, Deathwish…. That guy will have a deathwish just signing with Wilson, Stryke, Strangler? That guy sounds like he could get his ass kicked by Alvin and the Chipmunks! And finally… I will hit you, Wilson. But don’t worry… I have a fucking hitlist! The Clan, you guys aren’t safe! And the Carnival… you are fucking dead as well! I will not stop, until you all know your place! I will not stop Stubby, until my mission is complete!”

Stevens: “Is Jay Dawg nuts!? He’s challenging the whole league practically!”

Jamie: “Oh don’t worry folks. I will not do this alone! Besides having the backing of the great Stubby and King, and the partnership of one of Australia’s greatest exports, Sacred. I have one more surprise in store for you. I have brought to you a friend! A dangerous fucking ally! He is the most dominant man you will ever meet! His punch, is like a sledgehammer! His strength, is that of a bull! You guys have no idea, as together, we will tear through the ranks! ALLOW ME TO INTRODUCE!!! LERRIN BREGGAN!!!”

Riley: "Who the hell is this Lerrin Breggan character? What kind of name is that?"

The crowd goes silent as a huge individual comes out from the backstage area. The large man is wearing jeans and a button down shirt, obviously not in wrestling attire. He walks to the ring at a menacing pace, glaring hole right through the two announcers. He hops up onto the apron the climbs through the ropes, hearing nothing but silence from the fans. Drazon smiles at his new friend and hands him the mike.

Breggan: "You know, I knew I would finally make it here to the SWF. After all, I am the best of the best. If I wasn't, would Stubby and King have recruited me?"

The crowd boos lightly, sensing a very cocky man standing in the ring.

Breggan: "Wow, you can make noise! I wouldn't have figured wrestling fans to have that much intelligence. But I don't really care what you think. I'm not here for you. I am here to make the name Lerrin Breggan known throughout the entire federation, to make the name Lerrin Breggan feared by every wrestler in the lockerroom. I have no doubts that this will happen, because I am just that damn good. Don't you agree guys?"

King and Stubby nod approvingly, as JD smiles, applauding lightly as the crowd lets out a loud hiss.

Stevens: "Hey Riley, this guy sounds like you! An arrogant bastard!"

Riley: "I know, I am beginning to like him already!"

Breggan: "Tonight the SWF has just received the greatest wrestler ever to touch the Lord's Green Earth. The SWF is my kingdom now, and its time you all get knocked the fuck out!"

Lerrin hands the mike back to Jamie as the crowd boos heavily at the strong comments made by the rookie wrestler.

Jamie: “And believe me folks! You will all get knocked the fuck out! Every single one of you. It won’t take you long to know who OWNZ YOUR ASS!!”

JD tosses the mic aside, and with the help of Lerrin, holds the ropes open for Stubby and King. They walk up the ramp, JD and the newest member, Lerrin Breggan follow.

Stevens: “Oh joy! There is another member in this group!”

Riley: “Don’t underestimate this new guy! He has to be talented if he was bumped without appearing in the JL!”

Stevens: “Whatever. Let’s look at the card.

July 13, 2002

The Smarktron illuminates, and stepping out of a ridiculously painted VW Minibus are the new tag team champions, Chris Raynor and Edwin MacPhisto! The crowd pops huge as the two Carnival mainstays stroll through the Mile One parking garage, shining up their new belts. Raynor holds his tag belt over his shoulder, while Edwin, world heavyweight title around his waist, flip-flops his own tag title back and forth between his left shoulder and his right.

“Which do you like better, Chris? Left, or right?”

“I’ve always been partial to the left--”

--and suddenly, two blazing figures rush out of nowhere and blast our champions to the ground! “What the hell?” shouts Stevens! The camera shakes as the two men begin to pound away on Raynor and MacPhisto, and soon focuses to reveal the figures as none other than Chris Wilson and Stryke!

“Yes! Yeeeees!” squeals Riley! “Payback’s a bitch, ladies!”

Edwin goes down fast, and Wilson starts to stomp across his chest while Raynor shudders under Stryke’s violent punches! Then, suddenly, the two aggressors back off…

“Come on, you two!” shouts Wilson. “Show me what you’re made of!” And now Taylor Nicholas Thompson, Frost, and The Boston Strangler enter the frame, each man carrying a tire iron! They lift them high…and all the loyal Carnival fans in the Newfoundland crowd cringe as the three men bring the tire irons down over the Carnies! “Yes! Again! Keep it coming!” shouts Wilson! The five men crowd around the downed tag champs, who flail and try to fight them off, achieving a woeful lack of success…

“The Magnificent Seven’s just ambushed Chris Raynor and Edwin MacPhisto! Can’t these guys do anything legit?”

“A tire iron’s pretty legit to me, Marky Mark! Wham!” Riley cackles with glee, and in the parking garage, Wilson looks up to see a pair of headlights headed his way.

“All right, that’s enough! Everbody move!” With one order, the manipulative general leads his men in a mad dash off-camera and away from the incoming taxicab, leaving Raynor and Edwin bloodied below. The backseat door opens…and out steps Z, the newest Carnie!

“Here’s your fare, and thanks. I always manage to oversleep on the most important of—oh, heck! Edwin! Chris!” The loveable loser drops scattered change all over the floor of the parking lot, running to check on his downed compatriots…and not liking what he sees. “Oh man, oh man…Mag! Rotten! Somebody! Anybody?” Z looks around in a panic. “Somebody who knows what they’re doing!” Shaking his head, Z dashes off frame, presumably to get help, and we fade to black as Mark Stevens intones a hushed whisper:

“This has to stop…”

July 13, 2002

SINGLES MATCH

Danny Williams vs. Johnny Rotten

- Danny Williams didn’t show up for his Smarkdown and the commish wasn’t happy. Seeing as no-showing a match is a clear violation of William’s contract Stubby has decided to book this match. If Williams does not pin Johnny Rotten he will be fired from the SWF, and Stubby will have eliminated one of those pesky Magnificent 7 guys.

Match Description – Regular DQ and count-out rules are in effect. If Danny Williams does not defeat Rotten by pinfall, he will be fired.

SINGLES MATCH

El Luchadore Magnifico vs. “TNT” Taylor Nicholas Thompson

- Magnifico will try to make a dent in the Magnificent 7 when he battles with TNT this Friday.

TAG TEAM MATCH

Ash Ketchum & Erek Taylor vs. Tom Flesher & Fallout

- The X-Force 9 trio of Ash Ketchum, Erek Taylor and Longdogger Pete managed to reconcile their differences on Smarkdown. Ash and Erek will see if they can truly co-exist as a team when they take on Flesher and Fallout from the Clan…

NO-DQ SINGLES MATCH

Tod deKindes vs. Longdogger Pete

- Longdogger Pete is a veteran who lives and breathes this business and attempts to give back to it whenever he can. He was impressed when he saw Tod deKindes defeat Fallout about a week ago and decided to challenge him to this match to test his metal.

Match Description – Regular DQ and count-out rules are not in effect. Submissions, pinfalls and knockouts only count within the ring.

CAGE MATCH FOR THE HARDCORE TITLE

Jay Dawg © vs. Frost

- Frost feels he’s being held down in the SWF and demanded a match against the hardcore champion on Smarkdown. Stubby was fine with signing this match against the new hardcore champ Jay Dawg…but the wily commish has once again added a few stipulations to the match.

Match Description – Regular DQ and count-out rules are not in effect. The ring will be surrounded on all sides by an approximately 20 foot tall cage. Frost can only win the match by climbing over the top and touching both feet to the arena floor, while on the other hand Jay Dawg can win by climbing out of the cage, exiting via the cage door or by pinfall within the cage.

TAG TEAM MATCH

Spider Nekura & Thoth vs. The Boston Strangler & Stryke

- Spider Nekura made his return to action on Smarkdown and this Friday he will team with fellow Clan member Thoth against the Magnificent 7 team of the Boston Strangler and Stryke.

July 13, 2002

"You will get yours...

you will get yours...

YOU WILL GET YOURS!"

"Cold Contagious" by Bush continues playing as a white pyrotechnic explosion resounds from the stage, and then Longdogger Pete steps through the fog, to a chorus of cheers from the Canadian audience. Pete walks slowly and deliberately toward the ring, dressed in a tie-dye T-shirt, tattered jeans, black leather jacket and dark sunglasses. Also noticable is the fact that Pete carries a microphone in one hand.

"Well, here comes LDP, who has a match scheduled against Tod deKindes tonight, a match he specifically requested!" says Stevens.

"I wonder what he's doing out here right now?" Riley wonders aloud.

"Ladies and gentlemen," announces Funyon in the ring, "please welcome... LOOOOOOOOOONGDOGGERRRRRRR PEEEEEEEETE!" The audience pops again as the music continues.

"You have no right to calm me down

You were never that around

And I have missed

Cold contagious

All the mighty mighty men

What you save is what you lose out in the end

Cold contagious

Cold contagious...!"

The music dies down as Pete enters the ring, and finally fades out. The only sound that can be heard is the continued cheers of the audience, which after several moments, finally die down as Pete begins speaking into the microphone.

"You know, I've done a lot of thinking in the last few days. It has recently been brought to my attention that Erek Taylor was not the man that attacked me in the gym just a few weeks ago."

The crowd pops at the mention of Erek's name. Pete waits for the cheers to die out again, and then continues.

"Well, if that's the case... and I know you've all heard this before... then it looks like we have a mystery attacker on our hands. Now this mystery man has attacked not only me, but also Erek Taylor. He has proven that he can show up at any time, anywhere. Hell, it could even be more than one attacker. As difficult as it is for the One Man Wrecking Crew to say this... it's no longer safe to be alone around here. To combat this new threat of cowardice, I will need, a partner. I will need... a team."

Pete pauses long enough for the audience to take everything in. Bobby Riley begins to get antsy. "What's he getting at?"

"I'm not sure," replies Stevens.

Pete continues. "Now I thought about that some more. What kind of team could I put together that would be formidable enough to take on this mystery man or men? And then following that, what kind of team would be formidable enough to take the SWF by..." Pete can't help but suppress a chuckle at his next comment. "...well, by storm?"

Another pause.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Pete announces, "the only force that powerful... is the force of X."

And at that, Bobby Riley's jaw drops in realization. "No way."

And then the lyrics begin playing over the speakers, unmistakably the lyrics to "Operate Annihilate" by Powerman 5000.

"Want to be everybody

wish that I wasn't me

was dropped from out of sight

was bit by the bug, grew 47 feet tall

wasn't who I thought I was

wasn't anything at all

I want to be everybody

I wish I wasn't me

I'm the bones of the dead

superhero trustee

not seven minutes have past

and everybody got blasted

operate annihilate and everything is all right..."

And at that point a series of green pyrotechnic blasts erupts from either side of the stage! The crowd goes crazy, and as the smoke clears, Ash Ketchum and Erek Taylor are standing on stage! Ash and Erek begin walking down the ramp, and the music continues!

"OPERATE, ANNIHILATE!

OPERATE, ANNIHILATE!

WHAT YOU GOT, YOU GOT TOO LATE

'CAUSE EVERYBODY'S GONE!"

"Riley, can this be?" asks Stevens. "Can it be?"

"It better not be!" groans Riley.

"It is! It looks like... X FORCE NINE has arrived here tonight!"

The hard rock music that is the original XF9 theme keeps playing as Erek Taylor slides into the ring and stands, Intercontinental Television title belt slung comfortably over his shoulder. Ash Ketchum enters the ring right behind him, and the two men face Longdogger Pete, who is still holding the microphone. Slowly Pete puts it down, and the music dies away. Then after a moment's hesitation, Pete extends his right hand toward Erek Taylor.

Erek steps closer to Pete, and for a moment, he merely stands there, nose to nose, staring Pete in the eye, motionless. Then finally, when the audience anticipation level reaches maximum, Erek extends his own right hand and shakes Pete's hand! The audience literally explodes with excitement!

"Incredible!" shouts Stevens. "X Force 9 has reformed here in the SWF, and the Canadian audience is on their feet!"

"And I'm sick to my stomach," says Riley.

Erek then bends over and picks up the microphone, pacing around the ring as he addresses the audience. "You can be my minimee, Pops! I have to say this but, that was either the most corny reformation ever or the audience loves us too god damn much to care. LDP has had his share of mystery attackers. What? A million guys stalking you?" Erek tries to avoid the glare from Pete at that comment, and starts over. "Um... okay, move on.... well, tonight we start an investigation, find out who this guy is. We're going to be Dick Tracy and Company, we're going to be Batman, Robin, and Batgirl... with Ash being the Batgirl... we're going to be Superman, Spiderman, and the hardcore Hulk... The undercard Hulk!!"

Suddenly Ash snatches the microphone away from Erek and begins speaking himself. "Who are you calling Undercard? The days of toiling the IGNML hoping for the occasional title shot are over! Well, I hope they are. This is X FORCE NINE, version 2.0! And now... we want to celebrate this historic occasion with...a PARTY! AWOOOOOGA! POKEMANIA'S ABOUT TO GET FUNKY!"

"You have got to be fucking kidding me...." Erek interrupts. The ICTV Champion snatches the mic away and begins to speak once again. "Just because your wife is pregnant and is going to give birth to a 8 pound kid in the next 2 months doesn't mean you have t-" Erek stops, mainly because the music has just turned back on and Ash is breaking into a frenzy! Suddenly the crowd roars in approval as thousands of green and white balloons fall from the ceiling, along with millions of tiny pieces of green and white confetti! The scene is momentary chaos as balloons and confetti land everywhere, in the ring, in the audience, and on the stage. Funyon tries to kick some of the balloons off the ring. A close up shot of the commentary table shows an irritated Bobby Riley trying to pick confetti pieces out of his hair. "This sucks," he mutters. "This really sucks."

"Oh, come on, Riley," Stevens remarks. "It's a party! Try to get into the spirit of things!"

"Come on, Erek!" Ash asks politely.."Get down! Jive, brotha, jive!" Ash shoves the mic into Erek's face, who pushes it

"I just had dinner. I'd rather not at the moment, Ash," Erek answers back.

"Whoever knew Ash could dance like that?" Stevens comments.

"I wish I hadn't found out," Riley quips.

"And now, ladies and gents," Ash replies as he stops his breakdancing for a second, getting onto his feet, "time to go OLD SCHOOL!!!!"

Ash Ketchum puts the microphone down, then stands in the middle of the ring. Erek Taylor and Longdogger Pete back away from Ash, staying near the ropes as they watch Ash. Ash pauses a moment, and then works the crowd by breaking into... a dance.

"Oh. My. God," says Riley.

"Is that what I think it is?" asks Stevens.

Riley nods. "It's pathetic."

"It's... it's... the LOW BRASS DANCE!"

The audience begins chanting "XF9! XF9!" with excitement as Ash continues dancing the Low Brass dance...

"Look at Ash, people!! He's been mentally possessed by the old spirit of Low Brass!! Dance you stupid monkey!! DANCE!!!" Erek's remarks are once again popped, but nevertheless, the dancing continues.

"The crowd is really getting into the celebration here tonight!" says Stevens. "Folks, we've got to go to a break, but when we get back, we'll have our first match of the night! Danny Williams vs. Johnny Rotten, next on SWF Storm!"

July 13, 2002

Some fireworks go off, and all that stuff. The camera spins around the arena, giving every ticket holder their millisecond of fame. The fireworks finally stop, leaving heavy layers of grey smoke hovering around the arena. The smell of gun powder fires the anxious fans up into a frenzy.

Riley: (cough)(gag)(cough)(gag)

Stevens: Riley, are you all right?

Riley: (gag)(spit)NO! I damn near choked to death........Is all those pyro effects that open the show really necessary?

Stevens: Yes, fireworks equals ratings.

Riley: But why do we need ratings if there already watching the show?

Stevens: I have do have answer for that question, but it's already time for tonight's opening match.

The heavy grinding grooves of Dillinger Escape Plans "Calculating Infinity" blasts over the loud speakers. The smarktron simply says Deathwish in white letters and follows with a slow motion image of Danny giving The Insane Lucahdore a Tombstone from the ring apron to the floor. Danny comes out on to the platform. He simply looks around, and shakes his head at the "booing" crowd. . He slowly walks to the ring with a focused, no nonsense look on his face. A dark figure in a ski mask follows from a good distance, it's Danny's manager the Prophet. He gets in the ring and just warms up, while Prophet quietly remains on the outside. .

Stevens: When Danny Williams left the SJL he was the World Champion and at the top of his game. But he has yet to really make an impact here in the SWF.

Riley: Well that's why he has The Prophet at his side now, to guide him to the top of the federation.

Stevens: Oh I'am sorry I forgot to mention that if Danny Williams loses tonight, he is out of the SWF for good.

Riley: What the Hell, he just got here! What may I ask, did Danny do to deserve this.

Stevens: Apparently it's some type of punishment for no showing on Smarkdown.

Riley: Hey last week wasn't Danny's fault. So what he had the shits and couldn't make it, Mercury didn't show up either and you don't see him getting kicked out of the SWF!

Stevens: Well it's not up to me, Riley. Its up to the booker, and the booker is always right.

Riley: That's bull and you know it!............Anyway, who the hell does Danny have to beat to save his career?

Suddenly "Anarchy in the U.K." blasts over the loud speakers, and the audience drunkenly sings along even more out of tune than the real Johnny Rotten. A large round figure appears in the entrance way, sparking loud cheers from the crowd. The wide, fat figure steps into the light to reveal his identity.

Stevens: OH MY GOD, IT'S JOHNNY ROTTEN! HE'S BACK.....

Riley: AND HE LOOKS LIKE SHIT!

Not only does Johnny Rotten appear to be a good 100 pounds overweight, he looks like he has been pulled out of a homeless shelter. Fans along the entrance way, hold their noses as he passes, and give the "Pee-U" gesture.

Riley: What trash can did they find him in. You know, I actually like Williams chances of staying in the SWF.

Stevens: Don't count Mr. Rotten out. You know next to the Guerreo's and the Hart's, the Rotten family is the one of the greatest and most respected wrestling families on this continent.

Riley: Wow, that's one hell of a drop off form first to second. I had no idea that North American wrestling sucked that much!

Stevens: Well just because someone isn't a great mat technician, it doesn't mean there not great wrestlers.

Riley: Bah, Just because someone can swing a garbage can and bleed like a stuff pig, it doesn't make them a great wrestler.

Stevens: Shhhhh, Funyon is ready with the intro.

Funyon: Good Evening ladies and gentleman, and welcome to SWF Storm!(crowd pops) The following match is scheduled for one fall and has a fifteen minute time limit. Introducing first, standing to my right. Hailing from Louisville Kentucky, He weights in at 238 pounds........DANNY WILLIAMSssssssssss.(crowd boos)

Danny ignores his introduction, and continues to warm up.

Funyon: Standing to my left, hailing from Naptown, he weighs in at 350 pounds......JOHNNY ROTTEN!(crowd cheers)

Rotten raises his arms in the air, and shouts taunts at Danny Williams across the ring.

DING! DING! DING! Rotten and Williams step out of their corners and meet in the center of the ring. Rotten starts throwing goofy looking jabs at Williams, while stomping his feet for some reason. Williams' head snaps back violently with each punch, though the jabs are obviously pulled.

Stevens: Wow, those are some of the hardest jabs I've ever seen. Rotten is really taking it to Williams in the opening moments of this blockbuster matchup!

Riley: Come on Williams, don't just stand there and let him.....(giggles) hit you.

After taking 5 straight jabs, Williams is out on his feet . Rotten winds his arm up, stomps his foot extra hard, and swings a big right hook! It doesn't connect but Williams still drops to the mat like a K.O.ed boxer! The fans start chanting "WE-WANT-TABLES!" Rotten's eyes light up with excitement, and he immediately rolls out of the ring.

Stevens: What's Rotten thinking? This isn't a hardcore match.

Riley: What else is Rotten going to do? Actually wrestle, the fans didn't come here to see that.

Rotten digs underneath the ring apron, and finally pulls out a folded up table. The table is not only warped but is as thin as a sheet of paper. While Rotten struggles for what seems like hours to set up the table, a recovered Williams rolls out of the ring. Despite a bombardment of warnings from the front roll fans, Williams easily sneaks up behind Rotten. Williams smacks Rotten on the back with a STIFF double axe handle! "Gaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!" cries Rotten as he stumbles away in pain. Williams follows and grabs a handful of Rotten's smelly, greasy hair.

Stevens: Brilliant strategy by Williams. If he has Rotten's hair, he will go wherever he wants him to.

Riley: Which is why all the great wrestlers and shoot fighter's like Danny Williams shave their heads.

Williams walks Rotten to a ring post, and smacks his head into it! DING! Rotten grabs his face, and kneels on the floor. Williams slides back into the ring, and yells "Shut up!" to the fans who are still chanting "Table!". Like it matters, Kivell starts counting out Rotten, "One!.....Two!.........Three!.........Four!"............ Rotten stumbles around on the outside, struggling to undo his wrist tape. Realizing that this might take a while, Kivell starts periodically restarting the count. "Five!........One!.....Two!......." After what seems like hours, Rotten finally finds what he has been looking for in his wristtape. He produces a razor, and in the clear view of the camera and the front roll fans slashes his own forehead.

Riley: Uhhhhhhhhh.........Rotten has just slashed himse....

Stevens: (interupting) Rotten has been busted open at the hands of Danny Williams!

The satisfied fans drool, as thick blood gushes down Rotten's face. In a matter of seconds, Rotten's face is completely covered in blood except for two big white eyes staring out. Rotten finally rolls back into the ring to beat Kivell's nonsensable count. Williams greets him with a devastating rake to the eyes! Rotten blindly falls into the ropes, only to be shoot off with an Irishwhip. Rotten bounces across the ring, shaking his big white belly out from underneath his shirt. Williams foolishly ducks down for a back body drop, only to get kicked in the face, well in theory anyway! Rotten follows with a horrible looking lariat, that sends Williams to the mat! The crowd applauds as their hardcore icon as he regains control of the match. Rotten wipes some blood out of his eyes, and grabs hold of Williams' left leg. Rotten yells "Whoooooo!", and starts twisting Williams' leg with the Spinning Toe Hold!

Riley: I don't believe what I'am seeing! Rotten is actually using a wrestling move!

Stevens: You'd be surprised to know that Rotten has a background in amateur wrestling. But I don't understand the "Whoooo!", isn't the Toe Hold Terry Funk's move?

Williams has enough of this, and just kicks Rotten in the BUTT as he spins around. The force of the kick slowly but surely sends Rotten through the ropes, and out to the floor! Rotten lands on his feet, and than throws himself into the guardrail! Half dead from the BUTT kick of death, Rotten drapes himself over the guardrail in exhaustion. Williams climbs to his feet, favoring his right leg. Meanwhile, the front roll fans try to revive Rotten by pouring beer on him. Williams tries to put weight on his left leg, but cringes in pain. Kivell asks Williams if he can go on. Williams replies with a "Hell Yes!", and rolls out after Rotten.

Williams turns Rotten around, only to get caught with a big haymaker to the body! Williams is stunned just long enough, for a fan to hand Rotten a pie. With all 330 of his unevenly distributed pounds, Rotten drives the pie into Williams' face! A blinded Williams frantically tries to wipe whip cream out of his eyes, making him easy prey for the Rotten haymaker! Rotten starts winding his arm up, only to accidently smack his hand into the guardrail! BONG! Rotten screams in pain, and starts shaking his hand and blowing on his fingers. Williams recovers from the pie shot, and pops Rotten with a couple quick elbows! Williams grabs Rotten by his shorts and hair, and tosses him back into the ring. Williams follows Rotten back into the ring, still hobbling from Rotten's earlier submission attempt.

Rotten starts getting up, while Williams patiently waits. As soon as Rotten stands up, Williams blasts him with a well timed Shin Kick! Rotten seems confused, and just stands completely still. Williams gives Rotten another Shin Kick! This time Rotten grunts and grabs his leg. Williams kicks his leg again, dropping the big man to the mat. Wasting no time, Williams grabs hold of Rotten's battered left leg, and locks on the Single Leg Crab! The crowd instantly starts chanting "BOOOORING!". Feeding off the power of the chant, Rotten tries to fight out of the hold. Rotten ignores his doctor's warnings and does a push up. Well he gets a few centimeters off the ground, but its just enough to force Williams to loosen the hold and let him crawl to the ropes.

Steven: Thanks to the energy of these rapid fans, Rotten manages to make it to the ropes and break the hold.

Riley: Yeah "Boring" chants are so inspiring to wrestlers.

Steven: There is no such thing as bad crowd heat.

The crowd gives a standing ovation at what appears to be the long awaited end of the technical mat wrestling portion of the match. But NO! Danny drags Rotten off the ropes, and tucks his left leg underneath his arm! Danny tries to spin around for the Single Leg Crab, but Rotten boots him in the face with his free leg! The kick knocks Williams into the ropes, giving Rotten time to get back on his feet. Rotten stands up with no trouble.

Stevens: Ummmmmm..........It's a miracle! Rotten's leg has been healed.

Riley: This is the worst match, I have ever seen.

Williams comes off the ropes with a hooking Clothesline, but Rotten ducks! Williams runs into the ropes and comes charging back at Rotten! Rotten kicks Williams in the gut as he comes in, and traps him in a standing headscissors! The crowd pops, as Rotten runs his finger across his throat to signal that "Williams is finished". Rotten crosses Williams' arms across his chest, and locks his arms around his waist for the Pyramid Driver! Rotten heaves, and pulls but he can't seem to lift Williams off the mat. The crowd starts chanting "You Suck!". Rotten is pouring sweat and blood all over Williams' back, as he frantically tries to lift him off the mat. Finally, Williams jumps off the mat and does a front flip by himself, landing hard on his back!

Stevens: PYRAMID DRIVER!!!!! ROTTEN HIT THE PYRAMID DRIVER!!! IT'S ALL OVER!

Riley: I don't know what your all excited about, because that was the ugliest Pyramid Driver I have ever seen.

Williams is a corpse, and Rotten falls on top of him for the pin. The crowd counts along with Kivell.

One!.....

Two!......

NO! Williams raises his shoulder at the last second! A frustrated Rotten gets up, and starts pacing around the ring. Suddenly in mid walk, Rotten starts dragging his RIGHT leg behind him as if it's been injured. Kivell whispers something in Rotten's ear, and Rotten nods his head. Rotten stops dragging his right leg, and starts dragging his left leg behind him. Kivell just rolls his eyes and sighs. Rotten starts talking to the fans in the front roll from the ring, while Williams remains passed out on the mat. This goes on for about a minute, before Kivell starts shouting at Rotten to get the match going. Rotten says "O.K., O.K.,", and walks over to Williams without a limp.

Rotten bends down to Williams, who is still passed out on the mat. The camera mic picks up an out of breath Rotten saying "Another Pyramid Driver, uh......than another Pyramid Driver......and uh......". Williams shakes his head, and appears to whisper something back to Rotten. Rotten shouts "What?", and Williams motions for him to get closer. Williams whispers again, and Rotten nods his head. Rotten Irish whips Williams into a corner! Williams catches himself, does a tip up, and drops flat on his face! Rotten remains standing in the center of the ring, with a confused look on his face. The crowd starts chanting "U-FUCKED-UP!".

Stevens: Rotten faked Williams out!

Riley: No, I think Rotten faked himself out.

Rotten slowly walks over to Williams, with the limp in his left leg back. Rotten picks Williams up, who is very quietly running his mouth at a hundred miles per hour. Rotten scoop slams Williams to the mat with a thump! Rotten signals he's going up stairs, prompting the fans to get on their feet. Rotten steps on to the apron, and starts climbing the turnbuckles. Rotten stands up on the top rope, and starts spinning his arms around like a little kid pretending he's an airplane. Rotten loses his balance, and does a belly flop on the mat! Completely missing Williams by a mile. The mostly drunk young male audience, jumps out of their seats and starts shouting in unison "U- FUCKED-UP!"

Stevens: Rotten was going to try to finish Williams with the Body Press, but his leg gave out! Rotten must still be feeling the effects of Williams' Single Leg Crab.

Riley: Yeah, you keep telling yourself that. For once I agree with the fans, this is the most fucked up match I've ever seen.

Stevens: There is no such thing as bad heat, Riley.

Williams sits up to see what the hell went wrong. Williams looks over at Rotten, who is laying face first on the mat, and clearly motioning for Williams to come over and pin him. A pissed Williams jumps to his feet in a hellish rage. Veins are bulging out Williams' neck and temple so big, it looks like he is going to explode. Red in the face with anger, Williams spits out "God Dammit! That's It!" Rotten peaks up at Williams, and than stands up with a confused look on his face. Williams growls, "You've made me look bad for the last time, you fat piece of shit!" Rotten looks behind himself, to make sure that Williams is speaking to him. Rotten shrugs his shoulders, and mutters "Wha.....Me?"

Williams screams at the top of his lungs and charges across the ring. Williams floors Rotten, with a hard running elbow! CRACK! The fans "Oh!" at the sick crack of Rotten's jaw against Williams' elbow. Rotten sits up on his hands and knees, dripping blood everywhere and holding his jaw. Rotten seems to be hurt legit, and tries to say something to Kivell but he can't seem to move his jaw.

Williams screams curses at the fans, and jerks Rotten up by his hair. Rotten seems to be scared out of mind for real. Williams starts throwing elbows that aren't just stiff, there are actually connecting to Rotten's temple and jaw! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!. Williams spins around to finish the Elbow Combo of Doom with the Rolling Elbow! But Rotten collapses to the mat, holding his jaw. Williams bends down, and jerks Rotten back up to his feet. Williams spins around, and hammers Rotten with the Rolling Elbow! Rotten's knees give out, and he collapses to the mat like he took a gunshot!

Riley: YES! Knock that Fat Bastard out! Nobody and I mean nobody throws a meaner Rolling Elbow than Danny Williams.

Stevens: ROLLING ELBOW! ROLLING ELBOW! ROTTEN IS OUT COLD!

Williams casually bends down, and hooks Rotten's legs for the pin.

One!.....

Two!.....

THREE!

DING! DING! DING! Danny jumps to his feet, and Kivell raises his hand to make the victory official.

Funyon: The winner of this match by pinfall at 9 minutes and 32 seconds......DANNY WILLIAMS!!!

The Prophet rushes into the ring, and starts stomping away on Rotten. Danny Williams joins in, while the crowd brings the house down with "boos" and jeers.

Stevens: Well it appears that Danny Williams is going to remain the SWF for a little while longer.

Riley: Thank god! That may have been the worse match, I have ever seen. But Danny knocking out that fat washed up bum, made my evening.

Stevens: Well the night is still young Riley. Stay Tuned fans, we are just getting started. Tons of great wrestling action to come your way after these commercial breaks.

July 13, 2002

"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"

The noise at the St. John's Arena in Newfoundland, Canada continue to shake the area around it. There hasn't been this much excitement since.... well, the last time the SWF came to this place! The cameras retreat from the commercials, straight to the commentary table, where "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley await your undivided attention.

"Welcome back to Storm, ladies and gents!" Grand Slam exclaims. "Tonight is great for a lot of reasons, but the main reason is because if it weren't for this, I'd have no job!"

"Enough about your pathetic life, Mark. Let's get to business! Who do we have next? Here we are, Mags is going to kill the TNT kid. Let's watch that so I can go to break!" Riley slams his fist into the table, making sure that everyone knows how serious he is tonight. The cheers in the arena finally die down, allowing Funyon to make his announcements.

They expect to hear the Mexican anthem sound... but such noise is not heard... Instead, the anthem is replaced by the sound of a cylinder, followed by the consistent beat of the drums that are played with guitars. The fans recognize the every beat, immediately rising in anticipation for that man at the ramp....

that man... the ICTV Champion, Erek Taylor...

"Well, we're forced to hold the match because Erek is here!" Riley makes sure his anger is once again known, muttering curses under his mouth which are faint to the audience's ears but clear to their hearts. Erek Taylor moves down the ramp as "Downfall" fades in the background. The ICTV Champion has with him, a scroll in his right hand, the title belt draped on his shoulder. Erek slides into the ring, the fans letting their appreciation known with chants of "Erek! Erek!"

"Introducing... the SWF Intercontinental Television Champion... Erek TAYLOR!!!" Funyon hands his mic to Erek right after the announcement, and gratefully steps aside, giving the entire squared circle to the High Flyin' Prince.

Erek paces around, a smile on his face as he looks at the crowds. The IC Champ stops at the center of the ring, brings the mic up to his lips.... and....

"OH CANADA!!!! [loud cheers] Good to be in the country of the Maple Leaf. Well, I'm sure you all watched Smarkdown. My good friend Ash Ketchum, yeah he lost to Jay Dawg so don't cheer that much... yeah Ash decided it was good to bring me and LDP into one room and hope that we wouldn't kill each other. It worked alright. So me and Pete got into talking, and you already know the result. If you don't, scroll up about three to four posts and you'll see. What am I talking about? Posts, you say? No, I meant thirty to forty minutes....

....

"Anyways! Ash decided it was best to start an investigation, find out who this jackass is. This jackass that decided it was funny to try to turn me against LDP. Well it isn't funny!! IT ISN'T FUNNY THAT PETE HAS TO GET HIS ASS KICKED DAY IN AND DAY OUT!! The group did some digging and we have before you the top three suspects. Keep in mind, if you see any of these men, run away as fast as you can, grab a car and run them over. Or you could call the police... whichever you prefer.... Okay, before I run out of time, let's bring out the list."

Erek reaches into his pocket and brings out a scroll of the ancient kind. A huge smile on his face, Erek proceeds to roll the scroll out before reading the list as the cameraman Gus brings the view over so that the fans could see the list as well as hear it.

"Ahmmm.... here we go.... this is in order. We made it by who looks the most stupid. We'll start with the suspect that we think looks least stupid."

"Moving on... the third top suspect in our wannabe case.... Mister Xero!!" Gasps and more gasps arise, trying to build up the suspense but for Xero?

"Xero has great reason to do this horrible deed. Pete threw him into the Atlantic Ocean, the dirtiest ocean of... um, the three or four oceans. Not only that, but Xero, after he was defeated in a title match by yours truly, had to wear a dress and sing to the audience! He was judged by two of my friends and he got the lowest score.... EVER!! Good enough for me."

"My second suspect... is Stryke!! Stryke's only girlfriend was in love with another man and I chose to torment him. For that, I am not sorry. Stryke also had runins with me and LDP in the past. The last one ending with the Ironman match that Stryke won... thanks to his slutty girlfriend who had to come in and hit me. Anyways, if you see him, he's usually following that evil guy... um, what's his name.... Chris, Chris something. Well, you know who I'm talking about. The evil guy with the wannabe mafia."

The crowds bursts into laughter but quickly stop as Erek continues...

"My last and final suspect. He's big, he's bad, he's ugly, he smells, he's the Boston Stripper!!! Stripper, hooker, Sewer... man, how come this guy's name is so hard to say!! The Boston Sewers? Man, screw this, forget his name. You all know who he is. Big and tall and ugly with a deep voice. He is our top suspect because it was he that put LDP on the injury list for a few weeks, he is our top suspect because he had no alibi of the ambushes. He's also the top suspect because his voice is deep and very annoying, as LDP described it when he gave the group the briefing."

"I warn the public. If you see any of these men on the street, don't be scared to insult them or even kick one of them. Sure, they're rich, they have high power lawyers, they have links to criminals, they get one secret murder each year.... on second thought, get away from them. Not only are they dangerous, but they stink. You'd think with all that money they'd learn to buy soap instead of spending it on candy bars. Bad guys.... man are they stupid...."

"Back on track, my list is as follows once more: Xero, Stryke, and the Stripper.. Strangler... Sewer.... the big guy with the evil dude. Stay away from them and if you have any leads at all, please stalk Ash Ketchum and give him the info. We appreciate your help."

"Hey, that was a really good list!" compliments Riley. Mark nods in approval, and "Downfall" begins to play, cueing Erek to leave the ring. Erek heads for the ropes, but as he does, the music of "Downfall" is suddenly replaced by a sadistic trimming beat..... the lights in the arena dim to near darkness, and at the first note of the new song, the crowds erupt in a frenzy, booing whoever is coming down....

"(Mark) Oh my.... Erek's done it...."

"(Riley) Let's see if Mr. Hero is going to stand up to this guy. This man, this monster, the most ferocious monster since the Hville Thugg himself!! That man!!"

A figure emerges from the shadows....

.....

the dark clothes that he wears is only an extra spice that characterizes him. He moves forward, a sadist grin on his face with a mic in his right hand.

"THE BOSTON STRANGLER IS HERE!!!" Riley screams out.... "Burn to Burn" continues to play as Strangler emerges from the back, his nearly 6'10 body covered with a ragged trench coat. Strangler has a mic in hand, and as the crowds continue to rip into the sadist, he simply grins before locking eyes with the ICTV Champion, Erek Taylor!

"Cut the damn music!!" Strangler yells at the top his lungs. The music in the arena stops, but the boos never cease to end....

"I've been here in the WF for a long time... and not one time, has anyone ever called me the Boston.... stripper....."

The crowds instantly cheer at the mention of the insult, and expand their cheers even more as Erek smiles and achknowledges his handywork.

"Cheer while you can, you Canadian freaks! The Boston Strangler can and will take out each and every one of you. I have power like you can't even imagine. The Magnificent Seven will tear away at any opposition.... the Carnival, the Clan, and now.... you? What chance do you think you have, Mr. Taylor? You're nothing!" Strangler exclaims. Erek Taylor pauses for a moment to think, nodding his head before bringing his microphone back up.

"You're right, Stripper. I'm not as intelligent as Wilson.... I don't have a heart as big as Eddie Mac... and I sure as hell don't have the strength to beat you....." Erek lets the last word hang before finishing his sentence. ".... yet ...." The remark sends shockwaves through the arena, every single member of the audience rising to their feets and cheering. Erek pauses for a moment before continuing.

"Strangler... you may be strong... may even be stronger than the Hville Thugg himself! You've got the power, the strength, the lackies, the boss, and you've even got the smell. What chance do I have against you? None! That's right, none! I have absolutely no chance against you! You know why?"

"I'm thin-"

"WAIT!!! It was a simple yes or no question, stupid. You don't say 'I' or 'think'. You say 'yes' or 'no'. Like I said, I have no strength against you, I have no power against you, and I don't have as much whores to follow me around like you. But there's one thing I've got that you don't have. And that's the fans." The crowds erupt yet again, cheering at an extremely high volume, achknowledging their prescence. Erek continues, "You see, when I'm in this right, there's one thing that keeps me going. I may not be strong enough... but when I'm out here in the ring... and the fans are chanting my name....."

Chants of "Erek! Erek!" begin to rise... and Erek Taylor pauses once more, a smile on his face as he begins yet again. "When the fans are chanting my name.... there's nothing I can't do. I doubt that you have that kind of support, you big, ugly, Old Spice needing, Barry Manilow listening, eat a hot dog for breakfast, trash can isn't for sleeping, bitch."

"Haha!! That's right, you tell him Erek!" Stevens yells. The crowds continue to cheer, and continue to chant the name of the ICTV Champion. Erek pauses to once again achknowledge the cheers but continues once again....

"Stripper, the infamous Boston Stripper, the man who cross dresses and goes into homosexual bars for fun! You're what, 50? From those nasty looking clothes, you must be around 50..."

"I'm only 30! And so what! The fans are behind you. Big hooray! Like I give a damn. They're all a bunch of slobs who have no jobs. [boos] We both know that you wouldn't be talking all that shit if I was down in that ring right now... "

"Oh really? Then come on down, Stripper!! Let's see if you fight as bad as you stink!" Erek drops into a martial arts stance. The Mile One Arena eagerly anticipates the showdown, cheering for every move as Strangler moves down the ramp and enters the ring. Erek doesn't move a muscle and doesn't show any signs of fear, smiling every moment as Strangler rises to his feet.

"Here he is, people! The big, bad, and ugly Strangler!! He's in the ring, he's standing here and I'm going to look him in the face like I'm doing now.... and say.... you're the biggest fattest ugliest son of a bitch in the world that no woman will ever find attractive in her right mind...."

"Whoa!! That was a death wish right there!!!" Riley screams out, slamming his fist into the table, awaiting the fight.

"I'm not done yet too! The Boston Stripper..... with his Magnificently Boring Seven, with his pimp, Chris Wilson, his little elf children, TNT, Frost, and that other guy..... You might as well call yourself the Seven Guys Who Don't Know The Meaning Of Soap... Erek.... has.... spoken!!!"

At the altering of Strangler's catchphrase, the crowds bursts into further cheers. Strangler has had it and quickly catches Erek off guard with a clothesline!! But Erek is quick to react and ducks with ease. The ICTV Champion begins hammering on Strangler with repetitive rights, backing him to the ropes before grabbing TBS by the wrist and hurling him to the ropes. TBS counters with a whip of his own and as Erek comes rebounding back, Strangler snaps his hand around Erek's neck!!

"CHOKESLAM!! THE PLUNGE!! EREK WANTED THIS AND HE GOT IT!!" Mark screams at the top his lungs.

"Haha!! Get him Strangler!!!" Riley adds in as Strangler hoists Erek into the air... but once again, the ICTV Champion is quick to react, delivering a kick into the chest of the mammoth that loosens Strangler's grip. Erek drops on Strangler's shoulders and wraps his arm around the mammoth's head before spinning and planting it into the canvas with a tornado DDT!! The crowds erupt once more and "Downfall" begins to play as Erek rolls out of the ring, the ICTV belt on his shoulder and a weak smile on his face!! Taylor retreats up the ramp, Strangler in the ring snarling at his every step. Erek stops at the top of the ramp and grabs a mic from a nearby crew member....

"Okay Strangler, you say that the fans won't do what's right? Let's see now. People of Newfoundland! [cheap pops] LET HIM HAVE IT!!!" Suddenly, cups of soda, beer bottles, plastic bottles, popcorn wrappers, crumpled papers are all thrown into the ring! The Boston Strangler eludes the objects, but the number is too much and is quickly overthrown by the sheer numbers of the trash. He stands at the center of the ring, and when all the fray has been done, a circle of trash surrounds the Magnificent 7 lieutenant.

"The fans.... have.... spoken!!" Erek disappears into the back as "Downfall" plays again. The cameras give one last view of the Boston Strangler before fading to commercials.

July 13, 2002

SWF Storm returns from commercial break to the Mile One Arena in St. John’s, Newfoundland. On a somewhat dark night, the crowd is electric inside the arena as Billy Crawford’s “Pokemon Theme” hits the speakers, Ash Ketchum coming out to a roaring ovation, Ash carrying his prized Pokemania Fist Helmet with him.

Stevens: Welcome back to SWF Storm, and it looks like The Poke Freak is coming out... again? Must be important!

Ash briskly makes his way down the ramp, sliding into the ring as Funyon announces him.

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome ASH KETCHUMMMMMMMM!!!!

Ash reahces through the ropes as Funyon hands him his mic, so that Ash may speak to the millions of Poke Freaks around the world and in St. John’s.

Riley: Oh, I can’t wait to hear his shitty voice again!

Ash: HELLOOOOOOO, ST JOHN’S, and welcome to Pokemania! I’m your host, grand master wizard poombah ayatollah of the wrestling sensation that’s sweeping the nation, or in this case, nations (Cheamp crowd pop.), Ash Ketchum. Now, the reason I’m out here is not to be silly. I’ve done that already. I’m here for business. I’m hoping not to have to hurt no one, but if I do, so be it.

Riley: I’m scared. Not.

Stevens: Ash can be a vicious as a teddy bear or a grizzly bear. It depends on his condition, pretty much.

Ash: Now, on Smarkdown, I got set on fire, kicked in the nuts and screwed out of my Hardcore Title. Well, I’m here to talk about the imminent re-match-

“ALL ABOARD!! AH HAH HAH HAH!!"

The crowd boos loudly, the wailing guitar chords of Ozzy Ozborne's "Crazy Train" signaling the arrival of The Suicide King, Stubby’s right hand man. He gingerly makes his way down the ramp, a fleet of security guards behind him as he walks down the ramp. Empty beer cans and other assorted pieces of rubbish fly King’s way as he walks down the ramp, smiling sadistically.

Stevens: These two have knwon each other almost since they both began in the ML, and there’s been some bad blood between them in the JL when King announced Ash’s matches.

Making his way to ringside, he jumps up to stand on the ring apron and moves provocatively between the ropes Once inside the ring the Suicide King circles the ropes, making sure that everyone in attendance gets a good, long look at the most talented, entertaining, and handsome man in wrestling today. The men swear, the women squeal, and the SWF collects another fortune in merchandising... the Suicide King casually brushes the hair out of his eyes and calls out for a mic, which he recieves from some jabroni ring boy. His music cuts out as he begins to speak.

King: Ah, Ash Ketchum. Still have a bit of an ego, huh? You’ve certainly changed since your JL days. What is it that has changed? Is it the attitude? No. The style? No. Ah, I know, your god damn IQ! You’re more of a f*ckin’ moron now then you ever were! Don’t you know that a King can always beat a Jackass like you? I never liked you in the JL. I sat behind that damn annoucer’s desk, next to that asshole Edwin, and was FORCE FED the crap that is Pokemania.

Riley: OUCH! BURN!

Ash slides the fist helmet onto his head for a crowd pop, then brings the mic up to his lips to speak.

Ash: You got something to say, King? You don’t seem to have a lot of fans, or hell, anyone that likes you. Even your family is embarassed of you!

The crowd pops as King pauses for a second.

Stevens: Ash is trying to humiliate the Suicide King, but it’s not working.

King: You may be tough, but you are very weak. You may have strength in numbers, but they bring you down, Ash. Jay Dawg beat you because you are a cocky son of a b*tch. You try and be nice to the fans. What have they done for you? Look at JD. Idolize him, and me as well. But never, ever challenge him. Mark my words: JD beat you fairly, but you will NOT be getting a re-match EVER. That you can bet on.

Riley: BURN AGAIN! KiNG IS GOD! I LOVE THIS GUY!

Ash paces back and forth for a second, trying to think of something to say, and he eventually does, turning his back to King and saying:

Ash: Ouch. You do bring up a good point... but you know what? Maybe I have to use a little force after all-

Suddenly, Ash turns around, thrusting his leg out sideways, preparing for a superkick to King’s head, more like a Sweet Chin Music-style, but King tilts his head to the side and ducks the blow. He laughs as Ash brings his foot down off of King’s shoulders.

King: You little f*ckwad, trying to catch me off gurard with my own superkick. I knew you’d try it-

Suddenly, Ash swings his head forward with the fist helmet on it, but as he does, King clenches his hand into a fist, knocking the hemlet off Ash’s head with a quick swipe as he brings the mic back up.

King: I’m not afraid of you. I have better things to do. Good day, Ash. Security, please escort Mr. Ketchum out of the building.

King turns and leaves as security comes down the ramp. King makes his way thorugh the ropes, heading backstage while the secuirty force moves into position around the ring.

Ash: Aw damn.... now the security guys are down here. And Stubbs, I know they’re not off-duty cops. So don’t try pulling that shit with me. Just get down here. I don’t want to hold this show up any longer-

“LIGHTS OUT! GUERILLA RADIO! TURN THAT SHIT UP!”

"Guerrilla Radio" by Rage Against the Machine begins blasting over the speakers, Commissioner Stubby P. McWeed walking out onto the stage, crowd booing their hearts out at him as he walks down the ramp. The sea of security officials part as the commish makes his way down to the ring.

Riley: GOD IS ALIVE AND HE HAS BLESSED US WITH HIS PRESENCE! BOW BEFORE HIM, PEONS!

Stubby reaches the bottom of the ramp and rolls into the ring. After rolling under the ropes, Stubby moves into the center of the squared circle, grabbing the mic from Ash’s hands and bringing it to his lips with a scowl.

Stubby: Who the hell do you think you are, calling me out, and DEMANDING something from me, your commissioner? You are a disgrace to that sport, and I might add, that Jay Dawg cleanly won the title from you the fairest way possible.

Stevens: I don’t think setting another man on fire and stacking stipulations against him is fair...

Riley: Cut the chatter, Bat Boy. We don’t need your blasphemy now.

Suddenly, as Stubby looks at Ash, he has another mic in his hand. The crowd pops as somehow, the Poke Freak magically procures a microphone.

Stubby: Where’d you-

Ash: Enough. That’s enough. This is my time to talk.

Stubby: No, YOU shut your mouth, crackass-

Ash: I SAID THAT’S ENOUGH!

The crowd pops loudly as Ash silences the outspoken commissioner

Ash: Good. Now onto business. On Smarkdown, I lost my HardcoreIt was YOUR fault I lost. You took away the one part of me that made me the Hardcore Champ: my hardcore innovating ability. And that really pisses me off. So, if you can, and I know you can, put me in a damn match for the title on Smarkdown.

Stevens: Ash getting a little cocky here... but he says he was screwed out of the title.

Riley: BLASPHEMY! FIRE HIM!

Stubby: So you want a match, huh? You want a damn re-match. Well.. I’ll tell you what. If you want it so bad... it’ll be Ash Ketchum, versus Jay Dawg, Stryke, Chris Wilson, The Boston Strangler, LDP, and every other currently active SWF Superstar who has ever been Hardcore Champion on Smarkdown-

Ash brings his arm around, swiping the mic out of Stubby’s hand. “THUMP!” goes the mic, feedback from the mat as the commish clenches his fists in anger while Ash speaks.

Ash: No, no, no. Last time, Jay Dawg had the advantage. And this time, it’s my turn. Listen up. On Smarkdown, it’ll be Ash Ketchum vs. Jay Dawg for the Hardcore title, but in a match that hasn’t been seen in a long, long time, a classic match, a match for the ages, a match that gives me the advantage...

Stubby: And that would be?

Ash pauses, licking his lips as he tries to think of a stipulation to possibly better himself, something so goofy and stupid it’s just nuts.

Ash: A Hide And Go Seek Match.

The crowd goes apesh*t at the sound of this, every single fan rising to their feet, cheering loudly, screaming their hearts out.

Stevens: DID YOU HEAR THAT? DID YOU HEAR THAT?

Riley: I wish I wouldn’t have.

Ash: That’s right. A Hide And Go Seek Match. You remember, don’t you Stubby? You lost to Mr. Galatea in the inagural match. And you’ll lose again, because come Smarkdown, JD’s reign as Hardcore Champ ENDS. And Pokemania will be Hardcore again. That is, if you’re not afraid to book it. (No response from Stubby.) Oh, a little afraid of Pokemania, are we? Do we need a security blanket?

The crowd goes nuts, chanting Ash’s name as Stubby brings the mic to his lips, not knowing what to say at first, but he eventually speaks.

Stubby: Listen here-

Ash: What? I can’t hear you! These people are too loud!

The crowd goes nuts again, but quiets down as Stubby raises the mic to his mouth.

Stubby: Well... well, Mr. Ketchum... I will discuss it with my “affiliates” and we’ll see. We’ll see... we’ll see if you get your damn shot. But remember... remember this... Pokemania isn’t hardcore... Jay Dawg Is Hardcore... and The Suicide King and I have his back. You are the one who will lose. I can guarantee that.

“Guerilla Radio” kicks up as Stubby turns and exits. The security guards and King are gone by now, and so the crowd boos Stubby, but suddenly, halfway up the ramp, his music cuts out while the Undercard King speaks again.

Ash: Oh, and Stubbs, one more thing... this isn’t over, not by a long shot. Because whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do when POKEMANIA GOES TURBO ON YOU? AWOOOOOOOOOGA!

The crowd goes nuts as “The Pokemon Theme” kicks up, Stubby leaving in disgust while Ash does a few more Hogan like poses for the crowd.

Stevens: So it’s looks like Jay Dawg vs. Ash in a Hide and Go Seek Match for the Hardcore Title on Smarkdown! What an amazing turn of events!

Riley: This is embarassing. A hide and go seek match. What a waste of time.

Stevens: But we still have amazing action coming up as Ash and Erek Taylor team up later to battle Tom Flesher and Fallout! Stay tuned!

Fade off to a commercial for Weedies, the Breakfast of Stoners!

July 13, 2002

The final commercial of the break fades away, soon replaced by the image of thousands of excited fans within the Mile One Arena, excitedly waiting for the second match of the evening. All of this excitement is suddenly converted into boos, as a few "Oy's" signal the inauguration of AC/DC's "TNT." The entrance curtains begin to ruffle as a dark figure emerges from the backstage area. He steps into the sea of red and orange strobe lights, which illuminate his entire body and reveal him to be Taylor Nicholas Thompson. The letters "T-N-T" flash across the Smarktron and just as a resounding "Watch me exploooooooooooode!!!!!" echoes throughout the arena, and the hulking mass that is Taylor Thompson briskly strides down the ramp towards the ring.

Funyon: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from Anaheim, California, weighing in at 262 pounds...T-N-Teeeeeeee!!

Taylor hops upon the ring apron, flipping the heated audience off to a rather negative reaction, and steps through the ropes and into the ring. Taylor hits each corner, letting out a "KABOOM!" on each one. Eventually, the music and the strobe lights fade out, leaving a pumped TNT in the center of the ring to prepare for his match.

Stevens: And welcome back to SWF Storm! If you’re just joining us, you missed one hell of a retirement match, as Danny Williams of the Magnificent Seven fought for his career against Johnny Rotten!

Riley: If that weren’t enough, we have another member of that fine stable in our next match of the evening, as TNT faces off against El Luchadore Magnifico!

Stevens: This is one of the early battles between the Magnificent Seven and the Midnight Carnival, and will surely be only one of many as the heated rivalry between these two stables grows.

TNT keeps his eyes on the top of the stage, impatiently waiting for his opponent. He even manages to keep his stare as a Mexican voice shouts out, “UNO! DOS! TRES! CUATRO!” as a burst of pyro explodes from each turnbuckle while each Spanish word is shouted. Bursting into cheers as “Mission Trip to Mexico” by Bunch of Believers pounds over the speakers, the fans grow only louder when the man himself steps out from behind the curtain. Holding his Mexican Flag in one hand and the Light Heavyweight Title in the other, Magnifico pauses at the top of the ramp and slowly lifts his arms, grinning wildly as he bathes in the flashbulb light.

Funyon: And now, from Mexico City, Mexico, weighing in at 190 pounds, he is the SWF Light Heavyweight Champion...El Luchadooooorre Magnificoooooo!!

Upon hearing his name, ELM breaks his pose and rushes down the ramp, slapping fans’ hands as he goes. When he reaches the ring, he slides beneath the bottom rope, drops his Flag and the title, but is suddenly stomped on the back of the neck before he can pop to his feet! Magnifico’s music is abruptly cut off as TNT continues to stomp away at the luchadore’s neck, back, and shoulders, not allowing him to get up. The ref hastily gathers Magnifico’s articles, then signals for the bell to begin the match.

DING DING DING

Stevens: TNT, not wasting any time with his attack! He wants to get the advantage over Magnifico as soon as he can.

Riley: And why wouldn’t he? For some reason, that dirty Mexican is held in high regard around here. Therefore, a dominating win from TNT would send him miles up the card, and he’s not gonna screw up any chances he gets to do that.

After about a dozen stomps, Taylor finally lets up on his attack, only to grab Magnifico by the arm and jerk him to his feet when the luchadore tries to get up. Using his grip, TNT whips ELM across the ring, then begins charging himself before Magnifico even lands in the corner. When ELM does turn to his the turnbuckles back-first, he comes face to face with a charging TNT, who is but a few feet away! Almost instinctively, Magnifico throws up his right foot, driving it straight into Taylor’s jaw! TNT turns away from Magnifico and takes a few steps away from the corner, cueing ELM to hop onto the second turnbuckle. Once Taylor turns back towards the luchadore, Magnifico leaps off of the turnbuckle, kicking his feet out for a Missile Dropkick! However, TNT takes his huge hands and swats away Magnifico’s feet before they can make contact, causing ELM to land awkwardly on the mat after having done no damage. Magnifico springs back to his feet and charges at Taylor, only to be snapped back down to the mat with a quick and viscous Clothesline! A mild OHHH! rises from the audience as TNT grabs ELM by the hair and pulls him to his feet, the luchadore twisting and writhing under his grasp. Maintaining his grip, Taylor rears back with his free hand and pops Magnifico right in the face, knocking the luchadore several steps backwards and causing him to fall into the ropes. TNT walks up to ELM, grabs him by the arm, and whips him across the ring towards the far ropes. Magnifico bounces off of the ropes and rushes back towards Taylor, and as he approaches, TNT leaps into the air and extends his knee, aiming it directly at ELM’s face! However, the luchadore manages to roll beneath Taylor’s extended knee, popping to his feet behind TNT as he lands on the mat. Taylor turns and comes face-to-face with Magnifico, at which point ELM jumps straight up into the air, kicking out his feet and driving them into TNT’s chest with a Flipping Dropkick! Not having enough time to counter the Dropkick, Taylor is sent stumbling backwards into the ropes, surprised by the force of the blow! Not slowing down for a second, Magnifico pops back to his feet and quickly approaches Taylor, then rears his arm back for a Knife-Edge Chop! After pausing for a second for dramatic effect, ELM throws his arm forward, slamming it into TNT’s chest and creating a loud SMACK! sound that is nearly drowned out by the WHOOO!ing. Magnifico rears back once more and delivers another Chop, creating another SMACK! and bringing about more WHOOO!ing.

Stevens: Magnifico takes control with a Quick Dropkick and some stiff Chops! That’s just what he needs to do if he’s going to be successful against the much larger TNT; never give Taylor a chance to avoid or block his attacks, and never stop the offense!

Riley: That’ll certainly buy ELM some time, but it can’t work forever! TNT is a fairly intelligent competitor, and will eventually outsmart and overpower the luchadore.

Taylor grasps his chest with both hands, but Magnifico grabs one of his arms and pulls it away, then uses his grip to whip TNT across the ring. However, Taylor reverses it, sending ELM rushing towards the ropes. Magnifico bounces off of the ropes and comes back towards Taylor, and as he approaches, TNT wraps his arms around the luchadore’s waist, trapping him in a Front Waistlock! But before Taylor can do anything with it, ELM begins throwing his knee into TNT’s gut, desperately trying to get him to break the hold. Taylor seems to weaken with every blow, and looks close to releasing the hold when his eyes suddenly fly open and he lets out a furious cry, startling Magnifico! TNT immediately falls backwards after emitting the cry, throwing ELM over his head and sending him crashing to the mat with a Belly-to-Belly Suplex!

Stevens: There’s TNT’s trademark temper, making its impact. His habit of “snapping” during a match only makes Taylor more dangerous in the ring, if it’s possible.

Magnifico lies on the mat, arching his back in pain, as Taylor quickly gets back to his feet and collects himself, looking a lot calmer than a few seconds ago. ELM begins struggling to his feet, and TNT is there to “help” him along, grabbing Magnifico by the arm and pulling him to his feet. Using his grip, Taylor whips ELM into the nearby corner, which Magnifico crashes into, back-first, leaning up against the turnbuckles as TNT approaches him. Once he’s close enough to the luchadore, Taylor slowly lifts his foot and presses it against Magnifico’s neck, cutting off all air to his head! The crowd boos TNT heartily as ELM grasps Taylor’s leg with one hand and flails wildly for air with the other. The ref begins threatening Taylor with disqualification just as Magnifico begins turning purple, motivating TNT to release his foot and allow ELM to collapse to the mat, gasping for air. However, his rest doesn’t last long, as Taylor grabs Magnifico by the hair, pulls him to his feet, then grabs him around the waist and easily lifts ELM into the air. TNT holds Magnifico in mid-air for a second, then sits him on the top turnbuckle to some anticipatory heat from the crowd. With ELM in place, Taylor begins climbing the turnbuckles, eventually reaching the same elevation that Magnifico is at. Once there, TNT locks Magnifico into a Suplex position, setting him up for the Top Rope Brainbuster! The crowd grows even louder in concern as Taylor prepares to slam ELM’s head into the canvas from the top rope!

Riley: Here we go! Taylor is going to finish if off right here and now with a Super Brainbuster!

Seemingly ready to perform the move, TNT begins to lift ELM up for the Super Brainbuster! However, Magnifico wraps his foot around Taylor’s leg, blocking him from lifting the luchadore! TNT tries once more, but it’s blocked again! Suddenly, ELM rears back and bashes Taylor right in the face, nearly knocking him off of the top! Magnifico continues his assault, repeatedly jabbing away at TNT’s face before pushing him hard in the chin, sending all 265 pounds of Californian crashing down to the ground! The THUD! that echoes throughout the arena is a nice compliment to the relieved cheers that emanate from every part of the stands. With Taylor lying on the mat, dazed, Magnifico stands up on the top turnbuckle, lining himself up with TNT. After a few seconds of preparation, ELM suddenly leaps off of the turnbuckle, jumping high into the air and extending his arms and legs for a Frogsplash! Thousands of flashbulbs around the arena go off, lighting up the scene as TNT rolls out of Magnifico’s way, leaving the luchadore to crash chest-first into the mat! A loud OHHH! rises from the crowd as ELM bounces off of the mat before finally coming to a rest, clutching his chest painfully as TNT lies face-down and motionless next to him.

Stevens: That didn’t quite go as either man would have liked it! TNT couldn’t land the Super Brainbuster, but Magnifico was just as unsuccessful with the Frogsplash!

Riley: Stupid, stupid move from the luchadore! Taylor wasn’t nearly dazed enough to lay still for a Frogplash!

Stevens: Uh huh, but Magnifico was obviously dazed enough for the Super Brainbuster, right?

Riley: Shut up! That was a slight miscalculation on TNT’s part, that’s all!

After a few seconds of motionlessness from both men, TNT begins to stir and push himself to his feet, with Magnifico following suit a few seconds later. Taylor manages to stand while Magnifico is on one knee, and TNT uses the spare time to rush towards the ropes furthest towards ELM. Taylor bounces off of said ropes as Magnifico stumbles to his feet, backing up into the ropes as TNT charges towards him! Too dazed to do anything, ELM puts up little defense as Taylor lashes out with his arm and charges over the top rope, sending both men crashing to the floor with a Cactus Clothesline! Another surprised OHHH! rises from the crowd as Magnifico lands on the back of his head, followed soon after by Taylor, who lands chest-first onto the outside. The crowd pops slightly in appreciation for the spot as the ref begins to count both unmoving men out.

Stevens: Ouch! Apparently Taylor isn’t above hurting himself to get to his opponent!

After a few seconds, TNT begins pushing himself to his feet, while Magnifico remains motionless. Taylor gets to his feet as the ref counts three, before heading over to ELM, grabbing him by the arm, and slowly pulling him to his feet. Using his grip, TNT whips Magnifico across the floor, sending him towards the far guardrail! ELM turns and takes the blow to his lower back, causing him to cry out and arch his back in pain as the crowd OOOH!s in unison! While this is happening, Taylor rolls into the ring and then rolls back out resetting the count so that he may continue his attack on the outside. After resetting the count, TNT suddenly breaks into a charge, aiming himself directly at the luchadore, who is still leaning up against the guardrail! Taylor lashes out with his arm for a clothesline, but Magnifico manages to duck beneath TNT’s arm, leaving him to crash gut-first into the rail! ELM quickly gets behind TNT as Taylor clutches his gut and doubles over slightly. However, TNT promptly gets over the pain, spinning around to face Magnifico. ELM takes this as a cue to sidestep towards Taylor and throw his foot into the air, slamming it into TNT’s chin with a Superkick! The force from the kick sends Taylor toppling over the guardrail and into the audience, much to the delight of the drunken hicks in the area!

Stevens: Whoa! Magnifico has Superkicked Taylor right into the crowd! It seems uncharacteristic of him to take a match to the outside.

Riley: That’s because it is, Stevens. And believe you me, TNT will take advantage of that mistake soon enough. His size and strength gives him an astronomical advantage when it comes to brawling.

Before heading out after TNT, Magnifico walks back towards the ring, rolls beneath the bottom rope, then rolls back out, resetting the count once more. ELM then heads back over to the guardrail and hops on top of it, waiting for Taylor, who is now surrounded by security personnel to prevent fan interference, to get back to his feet! Once TNT does stand, Magnifico leaps off of the guardrail, diving into the stands and extending his arms and legs for a Flying Cross-Body! But to the surprise and dismay of the luchadore, Taylor manages to wrap his arms around Magnifico’s body, catching him in mid-air! Holding Magnifico in a Fallaway Slam position, TNT immediately falls forward, slamming ELM into the concrete and crushing him beneath Taylor’s weight! The fans in that general vicinity continue to hoot and holler like idiots while the rest of the arena OHHH!s and boos loudly.

Riley: Ya see? What’d I tell ya?

Stevens: Technically, that wasn’t brawling-

Riley: Shut up! All you need to know is that TNT has squashed Magnifico into the concrete, and that he will surely be counted out!

Taylor quickly gets back to his feet, leaving Magnifico lying as he heads towards the guardrail. TNT climbs over the rail and heads towards the ring, rolling in as the ref reaches four in his incredibly slow count. Magnifico begins to stir shortly after Taylor gets back into the ring, and begins pushing himself to his feet at the count of five. ELM is on his hands and knees at six, one knee at seven, and is finally able to stand at eight. Aware that he must be close to a count-out, Magnifico moves as quickly as he can towards the rail, climbing over it as the ref reaches nine. Just as the ref is about to throw his arms up and shout ten, ELM rushes towards the ring and jumps onto the apron, stopping the count just in time! A loud pop rises from the audience in relief, but it quickly dies down when the fans see Taylor approaching Magnifico, a frustrated and furious look on his face! As soon as he’s close enough to ELM, TNT takes a huge swing, seemingly looking to take Magnifico’s head off! However, Magnifico manages to duck beneath Taylor’s arm, before popping back up, grabbing TNT around the head, and jumping off of the apron, driving TNT’s neck into the top rope with a Guillotine! Taylor springs backwards off of the ropes and falls to the mat, holding his throat and gasping for breath as the fans revel in his pain. Magnifico hops back onto the apron after landing the Guillotine, and immediately lines himself up with his opponent while holding onto the top rope. Suddenly, ELM jumps/pulls himself over the top rope, extending his leg in mid-air and bringing it down onto Taylor’s neck as he falls with a Leg Drop from the apron! Magnifico covers right after landing the Leg Drop, pinning the nearly-choking TNT to the mat as the ref slides into position to count...

ONE...

TWO...No! Taylor kicks out at two and a half, to the disappointment of the fans.

Stevens: Magnifico delivers a double blow to TNT’s neck, but it’s not enough to put the big man down.

Riley: Of course it isn’t! Focusing on the neck wouldn’t be of any use at all!

Stevens: It’s better than what Taylor is doing right now; struggling to breathe.

Riley: Hmm, good point.

Magnifico quickly gets back to his feet after the unsuccessful pin, grabbing TNT by his dreads and slowly pulling him to his feet. Once Taylor is standing, Magnifico grabs him by the arm and attempts a whip, only to have TNT reverse it, sending ELM running towards the far ropes. Magnifico bounces off of the ropes and rushes back towards Taylor, and as he approaches, TNT delivers a stiff kick to ELM’s gut, stopping him in his tracks and doubling him over in the center of the ring! Taylor then reaches over Magnifico, grabs him around the waist, and quickly lifts him into the air for a Dominator! However, ELM slips out of TNT’s grasp over his shoulder, sliding down Taylor’s back and landing on his feet, back-to-back with TNT. As soon as he lands, Magnifico reaches back and hooks both of Taylor’s arms, as if for a Backslide! The crowd roars in anticipation as ELM rushes towards the nearest corner, looking to put TNT away with a Baja California Crusher!

Stevens: Crusher! Baja California Crusher! ELM slipped out of the Dominator, and looks ready to finish TNT off!

Magnifico runs up the corner’s turnbuckles and begins to flip over when TNT suddenly steps out of the corner, jerking ELM out with him! Taylor holds the stranded luchadore on his back for a few seconds, then suddenly falls backwards, slamming Magnifico into the mat and crushing him once again! The crowd OHHH!s in unison and begins booing as Taylor rolls off of ELM, leaving the luchadore lying motionless on the mat. TNT quickly gets back to his feet, stares out into the audience for a second with an insane look on his face, then grabs Magnifico by the arms and roughly pulls him to his feet.

Riley: Nope! Another high-risk mistake from Magnifico, as Taylor crushes him yet again! And now, ELM’s gonna pay the ultimate price, as TNT looks ready to finish Magnifico off!

Once Magnifico is standing, TNT gets behind him, still holding the luchadore up to prevent him from falling back to the mat. As soon as he’s behind Magnifico, Taylor applies a Full Nelson, then goes one step farther and pushes his hands against the back of ELM’s neck, setting him up for a Tiger Suplex! Reveling in the moment, TNT holds Magnifico in this position as the crowd grows even louder and angrier in its booing. Taylor looks ready to finally finish ELM off, when the luchadore seems to snap to attention and realizes the position he’s in! Moving quickly, Magnifico desperately throws his leg backwards, slamming it into TNT’s crotch with a blatant Low Blow! Interestingly enough, the fans cheer wildly for the cheating, as TNT immediately releases the hold and doubles over in pain. With Taylor doubled over, Magnifico wraps his arm around TNT’s head with a Front Facelock, then quickly falls backwards, slamming Taylor’s skull in the mat with a desperation DDT! Both men lay motionless on the mat as the crowd cheers the turn of events.

Stevens: No! No! Magnifico breaks out of the Tiger Suplex just in time, and-hey, it looks like there’s someone heading down here!

Riley: It’s Flesher! Tom Flesher is heading down to the ring!

True to Riley’s word, The Superior One heads down the ramp, drawing a mixed reaction from the crowd as they see him. Flesher walks up to the side of the ring, an annoying grin on his face, and watches intently as Magnifico begins pushing himself to his feet. After a bit of struggling, Magnifico finally stands up, unaware of Flesher’s presence. He soon becomes aware, however, when he turns around and sees Tom staring at him. ELM heads over to the ropes and shouts something along the lines of “What the hell are you doing here?” to Flesher, who doesn’t answer Magnifico. ELM, looking frustrated and angry at Tom’s presence, begins to climb out of the ring, when he is suddenly locked into a Full Nelson from behind! TNT, who got to his feet while Magnifico was distracted with Tom, then pushes his hands against ELM’s neck and immediately falls backwards, slamming the luchadore’s head and neck into the canvas with a Tiger Suplex! The crowd OHHH!s and begins to boo wildly as Magnifico falls onto his stomach after the Suplex, unmoving save the occasional spasmic jerk of a limb. TNT slowly crawls over to ELM, turns him onto his stomach, then makes the cover, drawing the ref down to count...

ONE...

TWO...

THREEE!! The ref pops to his feet and signals for the bell, awarding the match to Taylor! Flesher’s grin only grows wider as he turns on his heel and heads back up the ramp, his job finished.

Funyon: Your winner, by pinfall...T-N-Teeeeee!!

AC/DC’s “TNT” hits the speakers once more as Taylor slowly gets back to his feet. The ref tries to raise his hand in victory, but TNT jerks it away, instead throwing both arms into the air himself to the great displeasure of the crowd. Ignoring their boos, Taylor rolls out of the ring and heads up the ramp as Flesher disappears behind the curtain.

Riley: What a great victory for the Magnificent Seven! What a great victory for TNT!

Stevens: Gimme a break, Riley! The only reason that TNT managed to land the Tiger Suplex is because Magnifico was distracted with Flesher’s presence!

Riley: Well, that’s his fault, isn’t it? Magnifico can deal with Tom soon enough, but he should have been focusing on this match!

Stevens: There’s obviously no point in arguing with you-

Riley: Because I’m right! Nyah!

Stevens: -so let’s just go to commercial. See you after the break, everyone!

The final image broadcasted before the commercial break is the referee, checking on the motionless luchadore...

July 13, 2002

“OW!”

“Sorry! Sorry!”

“Z, haven’t I told you? I’m bloody allergic to hydrogen peroxide!”

In the Carnival locker room, Edwin MacPhisto’s forehead bubbles with antiseptic as the usually assured Brit winces. Z looks at him and raises an eyebrow. “How can you--”

“OW!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” Z’s a useless bundle of nerves as he dabs away at the M7-inflicted wounds. “How can you be allergic to hydrogen peroxide, exactly?” questions the not-so-dexterous neophyte.

“The same way Edwin’s allergic to needles, scraped knees, and visits to the dentist,” chuckles Raynor, trying to make light of his bruised chest. “Wussiness.”

“Oh, and you are SUCH a fighter, Chrissy! What was that you said back in the parking garage? ‘Ow, ow, you bastards, it hurts, stop, stop’? Oo, I’m Chris Raynor, I smash things, I’m tough!”

“Blahh, blahh, blahh---OW! Z, you have to watch it with the stitches…”

“Sorry. I failed home ec in high school…”

The three sit in silence, Edwin and Raynor wincing with every one of Doctor Z’s actions, all eyes focused on the ring monitors. Presently, their friend and colleague El Luchadore Magnifico is battling with Taylor Nicholas Thompson, TNT. “Danny Williams annihilated poor Rotten already,” mutters Raynor. “I hope Mag fares a little better…”

“Don’t worry about—OW—Z, gauze isn’t supposed to burn, how do you bloody do that?—don’t worry about our mischievous Mexican, Chris. He knows how to take care of himself. As for us, however…”

“Oh, no.”

“No what?”

Raynor shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and Z jogs away to get some fresh peroxide. “I can see it in your mismatched eyes, Fearless Leader,” quoth the Caveman. “You’ve got some brilliant idea, and you’re just about to say that--”

And the tag champions speak together:

“—we’re not finished for the night.” Edwin MacPhisto grins, and Chris Raynor sighs.

“All right,” says Raynor. “What is it?”

“Well…it’s not brilliant.”

“Oh?”

“No, I’d actually say it’s fairly reckless…but it’s worth a shot. If we can maybe start to eliminate this whole numbers advantage…we might have a chance of avoiding the tire irons next week.”

Z comes back from the sink, his hands clean and his peroxide bottle locked and loaded. “What’s the plan, Edwin?”

“It’s quite simple, Z.” Edwin grins. “We’re going to pick a fight.”

July 13, 2002

SWF Storm returns from an editorial segment featuring Grand Slam Mark Stevens ("... and that, my friends, is why the game HAD to end in a tie.") and pans the crowd before settling on the announce table, where Bobby Riley sits next to Stevens himself.

*Riley: Say, Mark, you sounded pretty passionate about the whole All-Star Game fiasco.

*Stevens: The fact of the matter, Bobby, is that the fans behaved reprehensibly. I mean, why would you want to send one of the pitchers home in a state of horrible fatigue?"

*Riley: That's what she said!

*Stevens: (pauses) That didn't make any sense.

*Riley: (pouts) Now who's being naive?

Stevens sighs, debating mentally whether it's worth the fight or not. Eventually, he decides...

*Stevens: Let's go to Funyon.

Funyon climbs into the ring and takes a quick bow.

*Funyon: The following match is a tag-team contest, and it is scheduled for one fall!

The lights go down, and "Operate Annihilate" by Powerman 5000 begins to blare out over the speakers. The fans burst into cheers as a waterfall of pyro cascades down the entranceway. When the pyro stops, a spotlight shines down on Ash Ketchum posing with his back to the audience, when one more explosion blasts the arena, and when the smoke clears, Erek Taylor crouches down in front of Ash, who stands with Misty showing his trademark split-finger V-for-Victory sign. The crowd pops like Kevin Nash's bad knee as the team walks toward the ring.

*Funyon: Making their way to the ring, accompanied by Misty and at a total combined weight of 453 pounds, the team of the High Flying Prince, the SWF ICTV Champion, Erek Taylor, and the Cerebral Prankster, Ash Ketchum!!!!!!!!

Ash enters the ring, mercifully without the Pokemania Fist Helmet, and holds the ropes for both Misty and Erek. Ash and Misty once more hold up their V sign, and then the lights come up. After a moment, the arena is bathed in a faint green glow as the familiar sound of DJ Foxx's "You Were" rings out through the arena. Fallout walks through the curtain in his black Clan robe, followed by Tom Flesher in his. Flesher pauses in front of the entryway, though, and unfastens his robe, revealing his SWF US Championship before he continues walking down to the ring. The Clan members walk to the ring in a purposeful but understated manner, finally entering the ring, removing their robes and posing in the center.

*Funyon: And their opponents, at a total combined weight of 398 pounds.... the SWF United States Champion, "The Superior One" Tom Flesher....

Flesher looks over at Funyon, who sighs and mutters, "Okay, okay."

Funyon: The SWF US Champion, the NEXT SWF Light Heavyweight Champion, "The Superior One," Tom Flesher, and his partner, Fallout.... they are THE CLAN!

Fallout raises his arms up to set off a green explosion behind him. The crowd answers with a chorus of boos before the lights finally come up. Flesher removes his US Title belt and sets it in the corner, then steps out of the ring, leaving Fallout and Taylor to start the match.

DING DING DING!!!!!!

"Andthisoneisunderway!" says Bobby Riley as quickly as he possibly can, grinning evilly. He adds, "Beat you!"

"This one's underway," says Stevens, completely no-selling Riley's excitability. Riley grumbles angrily as Fallout and Taylor circle each other. "It's fairly predictable that Erek Taylor's starting this one off, since Ketchum is still suffering from burns inflicted by Jay Dawg on Smarkdown."

*Riley: Nothing left but Ash. I kill me.

*Stevens: Please do.

Taylor and Fallout lock up, with Taylor taking the initiative to start the match by slapping on a side headlock. The two lightweights grapple for a moment or two, and Fallout eventually shoots Taylor off to the ropes. Taylor rebounds and ducks a clothesline, then bounces off the opposite side and leaps into the air to go for a high forearm! Fallout ducks, though, and Taylor crashes to the mat.

*Stevens: Looks like Erek Taylor got the wind knocked out of him.

Fallout grabs his adversary by the hair and pulls him back to his feet. He whips Taylor to the ropes and bounces off the opposite side, and before Taylor can go for a move, Fallout nails him with a dropkick to the knee! The crowd takes a collective gasp as Taylor hits the mat, completely surprised, and then rolls away to tag out to Ash Ketchum.

*Stevens: Taylor was caught by surprise there and he's made the choice to go for the tag before he gets caught again. Probably the best choice, as he needs to get into the match mentally.

*Riley: And yet he tags in Ash Ketchum, who can't do ANYTHING mentally.

*Stevens: Now that's not fair, you know as well as I do that Ash has some of the best ring smarts in the SWF.

*Riley: He also has a fist helmet.

*Stevens: Touche.

Fallout teases squaring off with Ash, but instead opts to walk casually over to the corner and tag in the grinning Tom Flesher. Flesher looks up at Ash, gives him a quick thumbs-up, and then steps through the ropes. He struts up to the PokeFreak... only to be struck with a nonchalant forearm to the neck!

*Stevens: Ash just clubbed him there!

*Riley: Great. Next we'll have a Pokemania Forearm Helmet.

Flesher staggers backwards, and Ash follows it up with an incredible lariat that sends Flesher reeling into the ropes. Ash comes at Tom, who ducks the follow-up lariat and completes the standard amateur-style duck-under. Ash hits the mat spread-eagled and immediately flattens himself against the mat.

*Riley: Look at that! That big retard's not doing anything! Ref, disqualify him!

*Stevens: To the contrary, Bobby, Ash is actually using a very technically sound strategy. We all know that Flesher likes to wrestle on the mat, whether he's securing a leglock or reaching under for a German suplex lift. Ash is using the freestyle technique of hugging the mat to deny Flesher the opportunity to work for amateur-style holds and chains, and it's actually an excellent point for Flesher's future opponents to use.

Flesher realizes what Ketchum is doing and, rather than pursue his waistlock, just stands up and then drops down to drive the heel of his hand into the back of his opponent's neck.

*Stevens: Of course, you don't have to deal with that on the Greco-Roman mats.

*Riley: Told you he didn't know what he was doing.

Ash loosens up from the mat, reaching up to grab his head instinctively. Flesher circles around to Ketchum's head and quickly throws a sitdown dropkick that catches the Cerebral Prankster in the schnozz. As soon as he recovers his footing, the Superior One grabs Ash by his hair and whips him into the X Force 9 corner. Misty, looking concerned, shouts a few words of encouragement to her battered husband as he tags in his partner.

*Stevens: The Clan is certainly developing the mental edge early in this match.

*Riley: Damn straight. Flesher has a MENSA-level IQ, you know.

*Stevens: You're making that up.

*Riley: Of course not! He told me himself!

*Stevens: Well, consider the source.

*Riley: I know! How could you possibly doubt it?

Flesher crosses his arms across his chest, sneering at Taylor as he enters the ring. Taylor walks toward the center and then locks up with Flesher. The Clannie casually goes for an Irish whip, only to have Taylor plant his feet and hit him with a short-amplitude spear that takes him to the mat! Tom scoots backwards, trying to get away from his opponent, but Erek makes sure to nail him with one stiff right hand before he can make it out of range.

*Stevens: The ICTV Champion nails Flesher with one for the road!

*Riley: How dare you discriminate like that!

Stevens looks at Riley, confused but unwilling to expend the effort necessary for a response.

*Riley: You CLEARLY went out of you way to refer to Erek Taylor as the Intercontinental/TV Champion, and then just ignored Flesher's championship entirely.

*Stevens: (sigh) The ICTV Champ nails the US Champ with one for the road. Better?

*Riley: You forgot 'The Next SWF Light Heavyweight Champion.'

*Stevens: Oh, and I suppose I should include 'My Superior In Every Way,' too?

*Riley: It's only right.

Flesher scoots backwards and grabs the ropes, at which point Taylor gets back to his feet and backs to the center, waiting in his stance. Flesher gets up and walks back to his corner, tagging his partner back into the match.

*Stevens: And it looks like Flesher's going to let the veteran handle this one.

*Riley: Wouldn't want him to get too run down with the light work.

Fallout enters the ring and locks up with Taylor, then goes for an Irish whip into the Clan's corner. He succeeds, and Taylor hits fairly well. He rebounds, but before he can use it to his advantage, Flesher wraps his arms around his neck and holds him back. Fallout charges in and nails a sitdown dropkick to Taylor's knee, causing him to collapse into the corner. He tags Flesher back in, then throws another sitdown dropkick to Taylor's chest. Flesher follows suit with the same move, and Fallout nails yet another before the referee ushers him out of the ring.

Flesher grabs Taylor by the head and tries to lift him up, but Fallout points urgently across the ring at Ash Ketchum entering to save his partner. The referee turns his attention to the number-one member of the Pikachu Patrol, leaving Fallout free to re-enter the ring. Flesher motions violently to Fallout, who immediately gets into position facing Tom in the center of the ring. Misty directs the official's attention to Fallout's illegal entry into the ring, but as soon as the ref moves away from Ash, BAM! Both Clan members nail Ketchum with stereo superkicks, sending him into the corner!

*Stevens: Excellent teamwork by the Clan, but it's certainly questionable from an ethical standpoint.

*Riley: Why are you always so concerned about ethics?

*Stevens: It's a sad, sad world when you can enjoy a title you didn't win fairly.

*Riley: It's a sad, sad world when you have to work for what you're given.

*Stevens: So you're saying that if I were to mug you with a baseball bat and steal your wallet, that would be acceptable?

*Riley: Of course not! We're talking about ME here!

Ash steps back out of the ring to shake off the cobwebs as the referee once again ushers Fallout out of the ring. Flesher whips Taylor to the ropes, but Taylor leaps up and locks his legs around Flesher's head. With an adept twist of his body, Taylor swings around and drops Flesher straight on his head with a flying headscissors takedown! Flesher rolls away, quickly leaps up and throws a wild lariat aimed at no one in particular, and then collapses to the mat and rubs his head.

*Stevens: And Flesher goes right down on his head! Bet he's thanking the Lord above for that 18-inch neck right about now.

*Riley: Oh, quit your BSing. You and I both know Flesher HAS no neck.

Taylor reaches over and pulls Flesher back to his feet. Taylor throws a right at Flesher's temple, but the junior Clan member dodges it and answers with a stiff palm strike. Taylor responds with another punch, but Flesher manages to hit him again and move him back toward the Clan's corner before Taylor can do any real damage.

*Stevens: These two are quite evenly matched. The talent difference is more or less nonexistent.

*Riley: (grin) Like Flesher's neck.

*Stevens: (slightly irritated) What I'm saying is that the ramifications of this match are so enormous that they just can't be seen fully without stepping back and taking a good look.

Riley's grin spreads even further across his face.

*Riley: Like Flesher's neck!

Flesher and Taylor grapple toward the ropes, with Flesher backing up and raising his hands up to signal for a break. Taylor dutifully backs away before the official administers the five-count. Flesher quickly tags Fallout, who enters the ring and runs across the ring. As the official backs away, Flesher catches Taylor off guard with a double-leg takedown. Before Taylor can counter the tackle, Flesher has him on his back and grabs both legs. He spins through forcefully into a Boston crab, sitting all the way back. The official, concerned about the double team, administers a loud count.

ONE!

TWO!!

Fallout runs across the ring at top speed.

THREE!!!

The nuclear Clannie nails Taylor with a disrespectful dropkick to the face. As soon as Flesher feels the impact, he releases his Boston crab and steps out of the ring, grinning as he sees Taylor grabbing his face. Fallout helps Taylor up as Flesher exits the ring. Fallout stands in front of Taylor, reaches back, and takes him down with a snapmare. He follows it up with a hard kick to the back! Taylor lets out a cry of pain as the sound of the kick echoes throughout the arena. Fallout delivers two more kicks to the back. He brings Taylor back up and pushes him into the ropes. Irish whip, Fallout goes for a clothesline but Taylor ducks, bounces off the opposite ropes, and goes for a clothesline of his own... but Fallout catches the arm and pulls him down into a Fujiwara armbar! Taylor is visibly in pain, but he drags himself toward the ropes and manages to grab the bottom one. Fallout releases the hold, stands up, and kicks Taylor a few times while he's down. He then makes the tag to Flesher. Flesher enters the ring. He and Fallout help Taylor up. Double Irish whip, and they take Taylor down with a double flapjack! Taylor now lies face down on the mat. Flesher and Fallout stand on each side of Taylor and raise their hands triumphantly, while at the same time they each place a foot on Taylor's head. Taylor writhes, trying to free himself. Ketchum doesn't like this one bit and he tries to enter the ring to save his partner, but the referee holds him back. Fallout and Flesher are perfectly fine with this, as it gives them more time to grandstand at Taylor's expense.

*Stevens: The Superior One and the Nuclear One are certainly acting cocky tonight.

*Riley: Why shouldn't they be? They're part of the greatest group in wrestling today. So says The Clan.

*Stevens: A few hours ago you told me the Magnificent 7 was the greatest group in wrestling today.

*Riley: Yeah. That was a few hours ago.

Ketchum finally ceases his argument with the referee, realizing that he's just giving The Clan more time to squish Taylor's head. He returns to his corner. The referee turns around, and Fallout backs away and returns to his corner. Flesher grabs Taylor and pulls him into the Clan corner. Flesher then climbs up to the top turnbuckle. He stands up on the turnbuckle, ready to dive off, but Taylor suddenly gets up and punches Flesher in the gut bringing him down to a sitting position on the turnbuckle. Taylor starts to climb up after him. Once he gets to the top, he sets Flesher up for a superplex. Fallout tries to make the save, but the referee holds him back. However, while the referee is distracted by Fallout, Flesher nails Taylor with a low blow! Taylor slowly falls backward and lands on his back in the ring. Flesher stands back up, and then he dives off the top turnbuckle and nails Taylor with a headbutt! Flesher tags Fallout, who also climbs to the top turnbuckle. He turns so he's facing away from Taylor, and then flies back and hits him with a Moonsault!

ONE!

TWO!

T-but Taylor gets the shoulder up. Fallout complains about a slow count. Flesher agrees. The referee does not.

*Stevens: Fallout and Tom Flesher definitely enjoy their aerial offense. Taylor, however, is not enjoying it one bit. He needs to make a tag ASAP.

*Riley: If he doesn't tag out, he'll be SOL.

Fallout brings Taylor to his feet. Irish whip, Taylor reverses and lowers his head for the back drop, but Fallout kicks him in the face! Taylor staggers back, but stays on his feet. Fallout bounces off the ropes and charges in with a spinning heel kick- but Taylor dives out of the way, and Fallout misses him completely! He gets back up, but Taylor nails him with a clothesline, sending him back to the mat! Fallout gets up again, but a dropkick from Taylor takes him back down! Fallout gets up slowly this time. Taylor takes him by the arm. Irish whip, Fallout reverses and lowers his head... but Taylor grabs his head as he comes in and takes Fallout down with a DDT! Now both men are down! Ketchum starts jumping up and down in his corner, calling for the tag!

*Stevens: Erek Taylor finally hit the big move that he needed! Now is the time to make the tag!

*Riley: This is not good for The Clan. Somebody do something!

The referee starts a ten-count, as both men are down.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Both men start to move, and they crawl slowly to their respective corners.

FOUR!

FIVE!

SIX!

SEVEN!

Flesher suddenly enters the ring and tries to stop Taylor, but the referee holds him back. While the referee forces Flesher back to his corner, Ketchum gets the tag from Taylor! He charges into the ring! Fallout slowly stands up, but gets taken down by a dropkick from Ketchum! He falls toward his corner, and his face bounces off the bottom turnbuckle on the way down! With Flesher now in his corner where he belongs, the referee turns around and he tells Ketchum to exit the ring immediately! Ketchum pleads his case, telling the referee that he made the tag, but the referee says, truthfully, that he saw no tag. As Ketchum and the referee argue, Flesher enters the ring again. He walks over to the opposite end of the ring, grabs Taylor, and drags him over to the Clan corner. Flesher sets Taylor up for a suplex. He lifts him up and takes him down with a Brainbuster! Flesher returns to his corner. Ketchum finally gives up his argument and returns to his corner. The referee turns around, and Flesher reaches down and taps Fallout on the shoulder, tagging himself in. The referee sees this one.

*Riley: That's just like that Poke-freak, trying to cheat his way to a victory.

*Stevens: He wasn't cheating.

*Riley: He never made the tag.

*Stevens: He did make the tag! You saw it. I saw it.

*Riley: But the referee never saw it, and that's all that matters.

Flesher kicks Taylor a few times while he's down. He then helps him back up, and shoves him into a neutral corner. Flesher kicks Taylor a few more times for good measure, and then sticks his foot in Taylor's neck, choking him. The referee warns him and starts a five-count.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

Flesher releases the choke. He pulls Taylor out of the corner. Irish whip, and as Taylor comes in, Flesher spins around and nails him with a huge Shotei, sending Taylor back down to the mat! (WHOO!) Taylor slowly gets up. Flesher grabs him from behind, lifts him up, spins him, and plants him with the Blue Thunder Bomb!

ONE!

TWO!

TH-but Taylor just barely gets the shoulder up! Flesher can't believe it.

*Stevens: Erek Taylor is taking a huge beating at the hands of The Clan. He can't last much longer.

*Riley: I'll give him a little credit. I'm amazed he's lasted this long.

Flesher scoops Taylor up and slams him to the mat. He says something rather unkind to Taylor as he lays there, and then he suddenly turns around, runs into the corner, and nails Ketchum with a cheap shot! Ketchum starts to enter the ring, and the referee runs over to prevent it. Ketchum immediately backs off. Thinking the referee is distracted, Fallout tries to come in for the illegal double team, but the referee turns around and sees Fallout before he can do anything, and he orders him to return to his corner. Fallout and Flesher both appear quite shocked that Ketchum didn't take the bait that time. Reluctantly, Fallout returns to his corner.

*Stevens: It didn't take him long to learn that one.

*Riley: Perhaps he's not as stupid as I thought.

Flesher pulls Taylor up, and then applies a gutwrench. He tries to lift him up for the piledriver, but Taylor blocks it. Flesher pounds his forearm into Taylor's back a few times, and then he tries again... but Taylor blocks it again. Suddenly, Taylor puts Flesher on his back with a double leg takedown! With an amazing surge of energy, Taylor quickly locks in the Sharpshooter! He reaches back to apply the sleeper, completing the Execution Leg Hold, but Fallout quickly runs into the ring and attacks Taylor, breaking it up. Flesher stands up and grabs Taylor, and he applies a Full Nelson. Fallout winds up, and he delivers a superkick that catches Flesher right in the face! Taylor dives out of the way just before he gets hit with the kick! Fallout is very surprised at that one. He charges at Taylor with a clothesline, but Taylor ducks, grabs Fallout from behind- and takes him down with a reverse DDT! Again, Ketchum goes nuts, and he looks as if he might have a seizure if he doesn't get the tag!

*Stevens: That was amazing! What a counter by Erek Taylor! Can he make the tag?

Another ten-count from the referee.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Taylor crawls toward his corner.

FOUR!

FIVE!

SIX!

Fallout and Flesher are starting to get up.

SEVEN!

EIGHT!

Fallout and Flesher are up, breaking the count... AND TAYLOR TAGS KETCHUM! The referee sees it this time, and Ketchum enters the ring! He charges at Flesher and takes him down with a clothesline! Ditto for Fallout! Flesher is back up, but another clothesline takes him back down. Fallout gets back up. Ketchum grabs him, Irish whip, and Ketchum lifts Fallout up and drops him with the K-Cutter! Flesher is back up. Ketchum kicks him in the gut, hooks his arms, spins around... and takes Flesher down with the C4! He hooks the leg for

ONE!

TWO!

... but Fallout breaks up the pin. Ketchum staggers away from Fallout and leans against the ropes. Fallout charges at him, but Ketchum back drops him over the top rope and out of the ring! He then turns his attention back to Flesher. Ketchum grabs his arm and whips him toward the corner, but Flesher reverses the whip and sends Ketchum into the corner! Flesher charges in, but Ketchum sticks his foot out and nails Flesher in the face! Flesher staggers back. Ketchum charges at him... but Flesher grabs the nearby referee and pulls him between Ketchum and himself, and Ketchum inadvertently wipes out the referee!

*Riley: Do you condone that, Stevens?

*Stevens: No, I don't condone what Tom Flesher just did.

*Riley: Flesher? What about Ash Ketchum? He just took out a helpless official!

*Stevens: Flesher pulled the referee in front of Ash! You saw it just as well as I did!

*Riley: I saw no such thing.

Ketchum attacks Flesher with a few right hands, backing him down. Irish whip, and Ketchum kicks Flesher in the gut, bending him over. He bounces off the ropes, but Fallout reaches in and trips Ketchum up! Ketchum falls face-first on the mat, and Fallout pulls him out of the ring. Taylor climbs back into the ring, but Flesher sees him coming in and nails him with a Shotei across the chest! (WHOO!) Make it two! (WHOO!) Irish whip, Flesher lowers his head, but Taylor grabs his head, spins around... AND TAKES HIM DOWN WITH FAME AND FURY!!!

*Stevens: Wow! Fame and Fury! That came out of nowhere!

Taylor starts to get up, but suddenly, someone runs into the ring - The Boston Strangler!

*Riley: But look at what else came out of nowhere!

TBS sneaks up behind Taylor, and he slaps on an inverted facelock. TBS lifts Taylor up... AND PLANTS HIM WITH THE LAST BREATH!!! TBS then exits the ring. Flesher slowly rolls over and drapes his arm over Taylor. The recovering referee rolls over and makes the count...

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!!!

DING DING DING

"You Were" begins to play. Fallout rolls into the ring and helps Flesher up. He raises his hand in victory.

*Funyon: The winners of this match, Fallout and Tom Flesher... THE CLAN!!!

*Stevens: That just plain sucks! The Boston Strangler just cost Ketchum and Taylor the match, and I don't think Taylor was even the legal man!

*Riley: Too late now. The match is over. Uh oh.

TBS pulls a chair out from under the ring. He takes it into the ring. Fallout and Flesher stare at TBS, and TBS stares right back.

*Stevens: Uh oh is right. The Strangler used to be a member of The Clan. But he left them for the Magnificent 7. What's going to happen here?

Fallout whispers something to Flesher, who nods. The two men slowly exit the ring. TBS watches them leave, and then he turns his attention to Taylor.

*Stevens: I don't think The Clan and The Strangler are on the same page at all, but The Strangler isn't after The Clan tonight. He's after Erek Taylor!

TBS waits for Taylor to stand. Once he does, he clocks him with the steel chair! TBS throws the chair down with authority and proceeds to taunt Taylor. But while he does, Ketchum climbs back into the ring with a chair of his own! He tries to hit TBS, but TBS quickly climbs out of the ring and exits through the crowd, the same way he came. Ketchum checks on his fallen comrade, looking up at TBS every few seconds.

July 13, 2002

The rip-roaring tag match between Erek Taylor & Ash Ketchum and the Clan has just come to a brutal end, and the ring has been cleared for the next battle…

“Midnight Carnival…”

…when the bumping strain of “Love Rollercoaster” rip through the Mile One sound system!

“Woo!” shouts Mark Stevens! “That’s what I like to hear! The Carnival’s on their way out, and it looks like they might be ready to pick that fight Edwin was talking about!” The lights go wild, and as blue laser lights trace the arena, the silhouettes of two men, the SWF Tag Team Champions, appear on the entrance ramp to a monstrous pop! A wall of purple strobe lights explodes, and the Smarktron illuminates with famous maneuvers from Carnies past and present! Soaking in the ovation of the fans, Edwin MacPhisto and Chris Raynor, each with a title belt around their waist and Edwin with an additional belt slung over his left shoulder, foreheads bandaged and wrists taped, start their strut down the ramp!

“Pick a fight?” snickers Riley. “Yeah, great idea guys. The Magnificent Seven annihilates you earlier in the show, and you just come right back for more. Brilliant!”

“I don’t think that’s exactly what Edwin has in mind, Bobby--”

“Shh! Yes it is! No more talking!”

“Well, well, well, ladies and gentlemen!” comes the potent British timbre from the center of the ring!

“Dammit!” snaps Riley. “No more talking from him either! Next time guys, use the tire irons on the VOICE BOX, not the head!” Edwin continues to speak, and Raynor leans on the ropes, a little tired from being beaten and all, but still grinning wildly and singling out particularly enthusiastic fans for a big “SMASH!” salute.

“You all saw what happened earlier…Chris and I, consummate gentlemen that we are, showing up to cheer on our teammates Johnny Rotten and El Luchadore Magnifico tonight, even though we ourselves were not booked…and what thanks do we get? A Christmas in July present of sickly magnitude, a brutal parking garage beating courtesy a bunch of lily-livered wuss-masters and pukemeisters who simply don’t know the definition of the phrase ‘fair fight’!”

“Fair fight?” quips Riley. “This from the guy who needed Spider Nekura to win the tag belts--”

“Now, Chris and I consulted for a while, and we thought that this implicit bitterness in the ranks of the Maleficent Siete might have something to do with our winning their tag titles on Smarkdown!” The crowd gives a big pop for Edwin’s declaration of the obvious, and Raynor drives the point home by unclasping his title belt and wearing it as a hat. “I must admit: I myself was a bit surprised to win the belts thanks to the Clan of all people, but so it goes. But, since we Carnies are both fair-minded players of the game, and also ridiculously bloody sick of getting beaten down by five of you at once--Jesus, that’s just plain rude man, ruuuuude—we are laying down an open challenge!”

“What for? The Merit Badge for Being Stupid And Ugly?”

“…Riley, you are such a tool.”

“THBBBPT!”

“Our challenge,” continues Edwin, as the crowd bustles, “is this: if you silly little gang-bang bastards would like a fair chance to get these here belts back on your side, then you’ll get that shot, and you’ll get it on next week’s Storm, when Chris Raynor and I defend these titles for the very first time together!”

“The Carnival’s laying down a big challenge for the Magnificent Seven…but to who in the M7? There’s…well….seven of them, after all…”

“I can see by the puzzled look on my good friend Mark Stevens’s face that he’s not sure who we’ll be facing next week…and I must agree, Mark, frankly, I don’t know either! That’s why this is an open challenge! Since Chris Wilson is a dope anyway, I doubt any of you reeeeally want to tag with him…so how about it? You, the Magnificent Seven, choose two of your own…to take on two of our own!”

“DISSOOOOORDER! DISOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORDER!”

And the crowd’s reaction goes all negative-stylee as “Toxicity” pounds across the PA! The entrance curtains unfurl, and slowly but surely, several members of the Magnificent Seven—Frost, TNT, Stryke, The Boston Strangler, all led by Chris Wilson—step out onto the ramp! “Christopher M. Wilson!” chirps Edwin. “The M stands for ‘should have been Made into Muffins Many Moons Ago, folks.”

“Cut your cutesy crap, Edwin!” Wilson fires back with tenacity and a sick grin. “How’s the head? Not so good, eh? No matter what little Doctor Z-hivago back there can manage, nothing’s going to save you from us. We’ll just keep on coming…and you know what? Since I’m feeling sporting, yes—we accept your challenge!” The crowd roars!

“And just like that, a tag title match signed for next week’s Storm! But who’s gonna be fighting for the belts?” wonders Stevens.

“Excellent, excellent!” responds Edwin. He pauses for a moment as Raynor steps over, and whispers something in his ear. “Oh, yes, and Mr. Willllllllllllson? I forgot to tell you: this little policy of truth unto which you’ve just committed yourself and your team, it’s a very special one. Because, you see, since we’re sick and tired of tire irons and 5-on-2’s, for this match…the rest of the Midnight Carnival and the Magnificent Seven are banned from ringside! How’s that sound?” The crowd cheers wildly at the chance of the Carnies evening out the odds, and Wilson and his crew look a little perturbed, but Wilson soon conferences, then works it all out.

“That’s fine, Edwin! Absolutely fine by us. We’ll let you know who’s coming to take back our titles on Smarkdown, and sure, the rest of us will stay in the back on next week’s Storm….” Wilson licks his lips.

“…but you didn’t say anything about THIS week’s Storm.” And with that, a ripple of feedback echoes through the arena as Wilson throws down the microphone, and the Magnificent Seven blitz towards the ring! Edwin and Raynor share a glance, a grin, and then the Mac Daddy tosses aside the microphone! The Magnificent Seven dive into the ring…just as the Carnies dive out, springboard off the announce table…

“Hey!” snaps Riley. “That’s my coffee mug!”

…and dive into the crowd, where a sea of all-too-eager fans help the tag champions surf their way out the back way! In the ring, Wilson pounds his fist into the mat, while TNT, Frost, Stryke, and Strangler begin to discuss who’s going to have the honor of the fight next week…

“That was great!” laughs Mark Stevens. “The Carnival picks their fight, and next week on Storm, it’s going to be quite a battle for the tag titles—but at least it’ll be an even one! And more importantly, I think that girl just copped a feel on Raynor!”

In the crowd, Chris Raynor blushes and is borne away, Edwin MacPhisto sailing behind him…and we go to commercial on that pleasant little vision.

July 13, 2002

*** Back inside the arena, and the crowd is still hot. The dastardly duo are still stationned to their post and call the action as they see it. ***

Mark: We're back and boy do we have a good one for you coming up next!!

Bobby: As much as I hate saying that, you are absolutely right!! It's gonna be the wily veteran with more than one trick up his sleeve, going up against the young hot new rookie here in the SWF!

Mark: We're gonna take you now to Longdogger Pete taking on Tod deKindes, but first, this is what our cameras caught earlier tonight …

*** Cut to backstage. Longdogger Pete is walking the halls, mentally preparing himself for his match. He happens by a stagehand area, where we can hear someone straining, and counting in german in brief repeated instances. Almost as if someone is exercising … Pete looks to his left and sees Tod deKindes, doing chin ups on the scaffolding used for the interview area. Even though he's staring at his opponent, he continues walking towards his planned destination … but a young voice stops him. ***

Tod: Hey Pete!

*** Pete halts his tracks and turns back around. ***

Tod: So … (drops down from his hanging perch) you're the one who challenged me.

Pete: That's right.

Tod: Y'know … (picks up his trench coat and starts putting it on) I've always been a big fan of you guys.

Pete: Us guys?

Tod: Yeah, you know … XF9. Seems like all the greats have passed through this group. Ash Ketchum, you, Erek Taylor …Sydney Sky…(this draws a look from Pete). I just wanna say, it's an honor for me to be wrestling you tonight. Ever since I started in the Junior Leagues, I've looked up to guys like you. I've always wondered what it be like to be part of the XF9 …

Pete: Listen, kid … You outta be thankful for this opportunity I'm givin' ya. Last week, I came out to watch your match, cuz I think you got that one little "it" that it takes to make it in this business. You say you wanna be part of XF9? You just go on ahead and prove it to me by winnin' this match tonight.

Tod: All right … Let's give 'em hell, then.

…

*** Back to real time, where Funyon is standing in the middle of the ring. ***

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, the following is a No Disqualification Match, set for one fall!! Introducing first …

*** As Slipknot's "I Am Hated" fires up, Funyon begins with the introductions. ***

Funyon: From Muenchen, Germany; weighing in at 227 lbs … Tod - deeeeeeee - Kin - deeeeeeessss!!

*** As the arena sinks into a rave like atmosphere with dizzying strobe lights and mist-like smoke in the entrance way, Tod power walks out from behind the curtain with hair soaking wet, almost obeying his theme song's violent beat. He stops midway through the ramp to throw an approving look at the seemingly positive crowd, and then resumes his course, sliding under the bottom rope. He climbs up to the second rope, and unleashes his mighty "Come oooonnn!!" to the fans, to which they reply with more than acceptable cheers for the SWF rookie. Hopping back down to the mat, he undoes his trench coat and removes his silver shades, tossing them to the averagely cute ring girl. He stretches in the ropes, as his theme music dies down; allowing Funyon to speak once again. ***

Funyon: And his opponent …

*** The slow and almost melodic sounds of Bush's "Cold Contagious" ease out from the speakers, as the crowd can be heard breaking into faint repeated chants of "L -D - P! L - D - P!" ***

Funyon: From Miami, Florida; weighing in at 272 lbs …He is a member of X - Force - Nine … Longdoggeeeeerr Peeeeeeeeeeee - te!!

*** The song draws itself out long enough to get to the "You will get yours x5" part, as white pyro blasts off on the stage, creating enough smoke on the ramp to blind a stagehand. Out of all of this walks Longdogger Pete, to a respectable pop from the crowd. With a concentrated look in his eyes, he stares at the young german grappler who's pacing inside the ring, and who's also throwing looks at him. He walks up the ring steps and crosses the ropes, contenting himself with a single arm raised pose to the crowd before limbering up for his match. As referee Mark Hebner gives out a few final instructions, both men are in each a corner and come out, as the opening bell is officially rung … ***

Mark: This should be quite a contest, folks. Let's just enjoy.

Bobby: You are such a tool.

*** Lock up to start, which Pete clearly has the advantage. Tod is backed into a corner. Hebner puts on the five count, to which Pete breaks the hold clean. Both men circling each other once again. Lock up number 2. Tod is backed into another corner by way of Pete's massive strength advantage, once again prompting the use of Hebner's five count. Hold is broken clean once again. Both men tease a cheap shot to the other, but think better of it. Back to center ring, where the two tease another lock up. Pete goes to connect, but Tod quickly rolls under him and starts PASTING him with right hands. ***

Mark: And Tod is starting off hot!!

Bobby: Closed fists! Closed fists!!

*** Irish whip to the ropes by Tod. Pete ducks a back elbow and a clothesline, but he falls prey to a back body drop. Pete quickly tries to get back to his feet, but he's met with an arm drag … and another … and another … and another. Pete rolls over to a corner and shoots daggers into Tod's eyes, wondering what the hell THAT was about. Tod stands a few feet away from him in the ready position, hands resting on his legs. Pete pulls himself back to his feet … as he and Tod circle each other once again. Lock up #3, Pete quickly grabs a head lock. Tod tries to free himself by pushing Pete to the ropes, but Pete maintains a firm hold. Pete works the head lock into a rear hammer lock. Tod reverses to his own hammer lock, and right into his own head lock. Just to show that he can get technical when we wants to, Tod reverses back into a rear hammer lock. Pete knocks some sense into the german boy wonder with a back elbow to the side of the head, and reverses back into his own hammer lock. ***

Bobby: Wham! Right to the head! That outta teach him …

*** Pete cranks on the hammer lock, but Tod legtrips him with a modified drop toehold, sending Pete face first to the mat. Tod floats over and grabs a front face lock. Pete doesn't view that as a problem, however, as he simply picks up Tod in the air, and deposits him with the help of gravity, face first to the mat. As Tod gets back up to his feet, Pete welcomes him with a series of hard right hands to the side of the head. Irish whip to the ropes by Pete. As he's running, Tod ducks a clothesline attempt, followed by a back elbow attempt, only to be met with a HUGE back body drop from LDP. Tod gets right back up, holding his lower back; and then falls prey to another series of hard right hands. Another Irish whip. Pete lowers his head in hopes of a second back body drop, but Tod leaps right over him into a sunset flip attempt … but Pete is a little slow to go down. He balls up his right hand, and aims it at Tod's face … but he punches nothing but mat. He tries to sit down … and falls flat on his ass. Tod seizes the occasion and wraps up Pete in a La Majistral cradle. ***

*One!*

*Two!*

*** Quick kick out by Pete. He regains his momentum as he FLOORS Tod with a vicious clothesline. He drops a series of elbows on his prone opponent and punctuates it with a leg drop with across the windpipe. He sits there, throws a look of almost disbelief at Tod, and finally puts on the lateral press for the cover. ***

*One!*

*Two!*

*** Kick out from Tod. Both men up. Tod tries to seek refuge into a corner but Pete is right on him with hard kicks to the mid section. Irish whip to the opposite corner by Pete, whom follows it up with a hard corner clothesline with no room for Tod to fall back. He Irish whips him hard back into the other corner, repeating the same clothesline process. Tod feels his chest to see if it's actually caved in, but Pete surprises him with a Flair-esque right hand to the mush. Tod now holds his jaw to see if it's still intact, but he suddenly feels the sting of a nasty knife edge chop connect with his upper chest. Tod staggers out of the corner, holding his slowly reddening chest but Pete catches him by the hair and slams his head into an adjacent turnbuckle pad. Pete hammers him with more hard kicks to the mid section, drawing a five count from Mark Hebner. ***

Mark: Looks like Pete is a little more aggressive than usual tonight, wouldn't you say?

Bobby: It's all about respect, Stevens. And how LDP is BEATING some respect into Tod deKindes!

*** Irish whip to the opposite corner is reversed by Tod. Pete hits the turnbuckles hard, while Tod charges almost immediately and connects with his trademark spear in the corner. Pete staggers out, a little shaky from the move, as Tod hooks both of his arms for his double underhook overhead belly to belly suplex. Pete quickly frees himself with a solid knee to the gut, followed with a devastatingly HUGE DDT that causes Tod to do an involontary head stand for two seconds before falling limp to the mat. Pete leans over for the pin attempt. ***

*One!*

*Two!*

*Th-- …

*** Kick out by Tod. With Tod still on the mat, Pete unleashes a flurry of hard stomps to the back and and kidneys, causing Mark Hebner to step in and intervene. Pete casually pushes him aside and drops the point of the elbow right in the heart. Hebner gives Pete another warning, but he has to get down to count another pin attempt … ***

*One!*

*Two!*

*** Shoulder up by Tod. Pete hooks on a rear chinlock to kill some time … ***

Mark: Hasn't been very long since this match started, but clearly it's almost been the Longdogger all the way.

Bobby: Of COURSE it's gonna be Longdogger Pete all the way! Sure, Tod is an impressive wrestler, but Pete will be TOO MUCH for him tonight!

Mark: However, SHOULD Tod deKindes win here tonight, there's no denying that he should at least be considered for membership in XF9.

Bobby: Like 'em or not, you don't just JOIN a group like XF9 because you're a "big fan" of them! If you ask me, I personally think this troop of losers all DESERVE each other! But if Tod deKindes is so intent on being a part of this group, he's gonna have to EARN it here against LDP tonight!

Mark: If you ask ME, Tod would make a very good addition to the group. He's got the will to win, he's got the fighting spirit, and most important of all, he's got that never say die attitude that's gotten him all the way up here to the big leagues.

Bobby: Nonetheless, that attitude of his is being tested as we speak, right here against LDP …

*** Meanwhile, Tod has been successfully trying to get back up to his feet, and trying to counter the effect of Pete's massive arms wrapped around his chin. A series of elbows to the stomach seems to do the trick. Tod throws himself into the ropes, but quickly has to duck a clothesline attempt from Pete, followed by a back wlbow attempt. On the third bounce, Tod buries his fist deep into Pete's gut and throws his body into the adjacent set of ropes, following it up with a neat looking swinging neck breaker. He goes off into the ropes one more time and comes back down, driving a huge knee drop on Pete's forehead. Quick cover by Tod. ***

*One!*

*Two!*

*** Kick out by Pete. Tod tries to maintain his advantage with a series of kicks and right hands to the side of the head. Irish whip attempt by Tod, which is reversed by Pete. He tries to behead Tod with a massive clothesline, but Tod catches the arm and scores with an impressive float over DDT. Both men stagger up, though Pete is a little slower; allowing Tod to times his steps, await for Pete to get into position, and then SMACK him with a jaw rocking standing side kick. Tod falls on top for the cover. ***

*One!*

*Two!*

*Th-- …

*** Kick out from Pete. Tod maintains his advantage with more right hands. Irish whip attempt is reversed by Pete, as he switches sides with an arm wringer and tries a whip of his own. THAT's reversed, as Tod catches Pete in the fireman's carry position, no doubt setting him up for a death valley driver. Pete wiggles free and lands safely on his feet behind Tod. He yanks him down hard with authority, sending Tod back down to the mat. He brings him back up by the hair and whips him to the ropes one more time. Tod manages to duck a clothesline attempt, but he falls prey to a nasty looking samoan drop. Instead of going for a cover, Pete makes with the international symbol for "Loser" with his thumb and fore finger (but in his case it must mean "Longdogger"). He heads to a corner and begins his ascension of the ropes … ***

Mark: Pete comes high off the ropes, aaaand … there's the Longdogger Legdrop!

Bobby: The cover!!

*One!*

*Two!*

*Thr-- …

*** Although he's taking a solid beating, Tod raises up his fist to the crowd, and lets his Todheads know that he's still planning on winning this match. Irish whip to a corner by Pete. Blind charge misses, as Tod moves out of the way of what would surely have been another solid corner clothesline. Tod quickly grabs a rear waist lock and tries to lift up Pete in a german suplex, though the Miami native is a little reluctant to comply. Tod hammers a series of stiff forearm shots to the upper back and then successfully completes the move, nearly dropping Pete on the back of his head with the release german. Tod grabs Pete in a front face lock and then throws his arm up over his head. Instead of his usual snap suplex, he opts for a regular vertical suplex due to the noticeable size difference. He holds onto the front face lock … ***

Mark: He's holding onto the move. Could he be going for the Sara Sequence?

Bobby: No way!! LDP is WAY too big for that!!

*** Tod contradicts that statement however, as he brings Pete back up to his feet and then back down with a face first front suplex. He pauses fo a few seconds to catch his breath, still holding onto Pete. He raises him up one more time, only to drop him stomach first across the top rope. He runs over to the ring apron and calls out to the fans. As they roar back in unison, Tod springs off the ropes in a leg drop attempt … only he finds nothing but mat. ***

Mark: Notice how everytime Tod attempts a comeback, Pete is always one step ahead of him and is always ready to regain the upper hand in the match.

Bobby: You can chalk that up to EXPERIENCE! He know what he's doing in that ring!

*** Pete untangles himself from his perch on the ropes, re-enters the ring and then plants a couple more solid boots to his fallen opponent. He drags him to the center of the ring … and locks on a crossface submission hold, shades of Chris Benoit. ***

Bobby: That's it, he's giving up!!

Mark: He's not quite giving up just yet, but he's in a HUGE amount of pain!

Bobby: Just listen to him!

Mark: He's screaming in pain, Bobby!!

Bobby: That's nothing but pseudo german for : "I give, I give!! I've had enough!! Oh will you PLEEE - HEE - HEE - HEE - EEZE let me go!! It HURTS!! … "

Mark: All right, that's enough …

*** Ignoring Mark Hebner's offers to give it up, Tod - despite the horrible pain in his shoulder - tries to crawl to the nearest bottom rope. Under the encouragement from the crowd, Tod crawls … and pulls … and crawls … reaches … and reaches … and finally, he GRABS the bottom rope. Pete is a little slow in releasing the hold, prompting Mark Hebner to use his five count. Pete releases the hold barely at four. He gets up, and stares down at Tod, who's still agonizing on the mat. He gives him some sort of "What am I gonna do with this kid?" look, before dragging him up by the hair, and Irish whipping him to the ropes. Tod suddenly tries a desperation clothesline, but it's ducked by Pete. On the returning bounce, Pete catches Tod with a neat looking double leg pick up into a seated powerbomb. He holds on for a pin attempt. ***

*One!*

*Two!*

*Thr-- …

*** Shoulder up by Tod. Pete begins to appear a little annoyed that he can't put away the german grappler. Nonetheless, he picks up Tod by the hair, puts him in a front face lock, setting him up for a vertical suplex. He grabs him by the pants and lifts him up to deliver the move, but Tod suddenly wiggles his legs in an attempt to counter it … and successfully does with a small package! ***

*One!*

*Two!*

*Thre-- …

Bobby: Noo!!

Mark: So close!!

*** Pete aims the point of the elbow on the still prone Tod … and drops it on nothing but mat. Pete is quickly up however, trying the same thing … canvas sandwich again. Tod staggers to his feet, as Pete comes at him with a balled up fist. Right hand is blocked, as Tod counters with his own. And again … and again. Irish whip to the ropes is reversed by Pete. He catches Tod in mid course with a military press slam attempt, but Tod thumbs him in the eyes and falls back down to his feet. He appropriates him back into the fireman's carry position and this time successfully plants him down with a death valley driver. He sends out a quick scream to the crowd, and ascends up the turnbuckles. He flies off with the grace of a cruiserweight and nails a sweet looking swanton bomb. He leans backwards onto Pete for the cover. ***

*One!*

*Two!*

*Thr-- …

*** Desperate kick out by Pete. Tod grabs him in his OWN front face lock, and throws his arm up over his head … ***

Mark: And now Tod could be going for his Cerebral Driver, one of his signature moves!

*** Tod spins Pete around in a neckbreaker fashion … but Pete's trick knee acts up, lodging itself right against Tod's unmentionnables. ***

Bobby: (giggling) Hee hee!! Not quite!! A little Lo' Dogger action from Longdogger Pete!!

*** Pete plants Tod with a drilling Full nelson slam, as both remain on the mat, catching their wind, and allowing Hebner to use his ten count. ***

Mark: A solid match thus far, which has shown no clear cut advantage for either men!

Bobby: Are you KIDDING me??! It's been LDP ALL THE WAY!!

*** Both men up around the count of seven. Pete has Tod by the hair for another move, but this time, it's *Tod* who comes in contact with his opponent's genitalia as his arm swings its way between Pete's legs. ***

Mark: Low blow from Tod!!

*** Tod seizes the occasion and appropriates Pete in the pumphandle slam position. However, Pete wiggles free from Tod's hold, spins him around, gutshot, and a HUGE implant DDT. ***

Mark: And there's the Longdogger Clogger!! The cover!!

*One!*

*Two!*

*Three!!*

*** Bell rings. ***

Funyon: The winner of this contest … Longdoggeeeeerrrr Peeeeeeeeeete!!!

Mark: A big win for the Dogger, but a disappointing loss for young Tod deKindes …

Bobby: To quote my friend Jimmy Maccalvaine … D-AH WELL!!

*** As Bush's "Cold Contagious" blares out from the sound system, signaling Pete's victory, LDP rolls out of the ring, wiping the sweat from his forehead. ***

Mark: Nonetheless, a very impressive win for Longdogger Pete here tonight!

Bobby: Still, Tod gave it his all, but in the end, it was power and experience that prevailed!

*** Having just gone through a hell of a match, Pete slowly makes his way back up the ramp and on his way to his dressing room. Just as he's about to throw one last look to the crowd and cross the curtains to the back … a voice interrupts everything. ***

"Cut the music!!!!!"

*** Everybody turns their attention back to the ring … where Tod deKindes is back up on his feet, holding the back of his head. He also has a mic in his hand, and doesn't seem to be in a cheery mood. The music is abruptly cut, as Pete gazes towards the ring, looking at the man he just beat. ***

Tod: Pete!! … You know, and *I* know that this is NOT what we wanted to happen!! …

*** The very statement seems to raise a few eyebrows in the crowd, but Pete is listening intently. ***

Tod: Right here, tonight … yeah, you just beat my ass. But you know that's not gonna cut it!! I won't rest till I get what I want, Pete … NEXT FRIDAY!! … Storm … I want a rematch!! … I want another match next week … I almost beat you tonight … and I KNOW I can beat you for REAL!! So next Friday! You and me!!!

*** He drops the mic, and gazes towards LDP, awaiting an answer. Pete wipes his forehead clean of any more sweat, cleaning his hand off on his pants. He looks sideways at the crowd almost as if seeking their opinion. The fans seem to give out a favorable reaction, but he stares at the floor for a few seconds, hands on hips, in order to think it out some more. ***

Bobby: Tod deKindes wants another match with Longdogger Pete?! Is he crazy?!

Mark: No, but he's quite fearless, that Tod. He seems intent on proving something to LDP.

*** Growing impatient, Tod throws his hands up and screams off-mic "What'll it be?!" towards Pete. After enough crowd encouragement, Pete looks up towards Tod … and replies in the form of a short nod. As the crowd responds in kind at the thought of a second encounter between the two, Pete turns around and heads to the back. Meanwhile, Tod takes it all in and slithers out of the ring as well, as we go out to break … ***

July 13, 2002

Frost sits on a bench back in the locker room area with his head down. He is already in his wrestling gear and focusing on the Hardcore Title match with Jay Dawg later this evening. Taylor Nicholas Thompson sashays into the shot and takes a seat next to Frost with the friendliest smile he can muster plastered on his face.

TNT: “Hey there, Frosty, gearing up for the big cage match?”

Frost slightly raises his head to glower at TNT and then lowers it again to stare at the floor.

TNT: “Look, I know you and I have had some heat in the past. I mean, I did once blast you with a baseball bat….”

Frost shoots TNT a fiercer scowl and Thompson widens his smile and gives a slight chuckle.

TNT: “Yeah, we’ve had some laughs…but now, we’re part of the same team, the same stable. We’re (points two thumbs to his chest) the Magnificent 7 and we’ve got to show those jokers in Creative Control that we can’t be pushed around.”

Frost’s eyes dart up toward TNT to show that he is listening. Thompson scoots closer to Frost and puts a hand on his shoulder. Frost turns his head to stare at the hand and TNT quickly removes it.

TNT: “Frosty, I know the CC is doing all they can to screw you out of your (points at Frost with his fingers like a pistol) rightful Hardcore title and I want to see you win it. So, to bury the hatchet and to watch your back, let’s say I go down to ringside with you tonight. The Sundance to your Butch Cassidy, the Spock to your Kirk, the David Addison to your Maddie Hayes. What do you say, Frosty old pal.”

Frost mulls over the proposal for a second and then shakes his head a solemn “yes.”

TNT: “All right!”

He holds his hand up for a high five and Frost just stares at it.

Frost: “One condition, don’t call me Frosty.”

Frost stands up and slaps TNT’s hand so hard his shoulder nearly pops out of the socket. TNT winces and rubs his sore shoulder as Frost walks out of frame.

TNT: “Got it, big guy.”

July 13, 2002

The show returns and the giant cage is now being lowered to the mat. The audience watches in awe, some actually clap as the amazing structure is released. The camera slowly prances onto the announce able, the duo of Stevens and Riley are welcoming the crowd back.

Stevens: “It is time for our Hardcore title match up!”

Riley: “And it’s a cage match! WHOO!!”

Stevens: “This match looks to be more personal then thought. First off, Frost was mad that he wasn’t getting a proper push. And demanded a hardcore title shot. He even threatened the future hardcore champ, who although yet to be announced, became Jay Dawg in a hard fought battle.”

Riley: “Jay Dawg responded to that challenge earlier tonight! Saying that he was going to hurt Frost. At the same time, they debuted one of the most impressive men in history. Lerrin Breggan.”

Stevens: “Did you see the size of him!? That was scary. But his ego is certainly large! Even larger then his biceps! Now earlier on, we also had a peace settling between two old rivals. TNT and Frost. They are in the same stable, and TNT said that he has Frost’s back tonight. Interesting to say because they were very influential in each other’s feuds down in the JL.”

Riley: “He better watch his back for that Lerrin fellow! His Magnificent Seven friends have all fought tonight except Strangler and Stryke, who will fight next!”

The arena darkens and “Cities on Flame with Rock ‘n Roll” by Blue Oyster Cult hits the speakers. The crowd starts up a wave of negative responses. The Iceland Monster, Frost steps through the curtains. His slow, purposeful stride carries him toward the ring.

Funyon: “The following contest is a cage match! It is for the S-W-F Hardcore Championship! Introducing first, the challenger! He hails from Reykjavik, Iceland! He stands at Six feet Seven inches and tips the scales at 297 pounds! He is a member of the Magnificent Seven…FROST!!!”

Frost stops at ringside, staring at the cage. He raises one arm, fist clenched, for the crowd to see. He enters the cage and walks to the side, grabs the meshing and shakes it, testing the durability. He pushes off the cage and trots around in the center of the ring. Multiple fireworks explode around the arena, rafters, entrance ramp and now the cage, Frost stands there surrounded by the pyro, and expression hasn’t changed. The lights go out...

...3...

...2...

...1...

"THIS IS MAH HOUSE!!!"

The obviously pre recorded voice of JD echoes through the arena. Rammstein's "Du Haste" plays over the speakers without the lyrics... The heavy beats thunder 360 degrees all over the arena... JD steps through the curtains, his head down, title fastened around his waist. Signs of burns are shown on Jay Dawg’s torso, above the title belt. He walks to the top of the ramp, slowly raising his head. He briefly scans the crowd and points to his title, making sure Frost also has a good view. He lowers his head again, although a smile without good intentions is now plastered on his face.

Funyon: “His opponent! He hails from Vancouver BC! He stands at Six feet Four inches and weighs in at 250 pounds! He is a member of Creative Control! The current S-W-F Hardcore Champion! JAMIE ‘JAY DAWG’ DRAZON!!!”

Upon his name being mentioned, boos explode and JD stands at ringside. He grabs the cage with both hands, and starts to shake it, before entering through the door. Keeping an eye on Frost, he unbuckles his title and passes it to the ref, who scurries outside. He places his hands on his thighs, and slowly cricks his neck. Stepping back into the corner, his eyes barely open, he looks a head at the monstrous Frost.

Stevens: “This battle is about to begin!”

Riley: “I can’t wait! Someone should mention the rules!”

Stevens: “Bah. Jay Dawg has the clear advantage. As he can win either by pinfall, exiting through the door, or over the cage. Frost on the other hand, can ONLY win by escaping the cage via climb over. This is Jay Dawg’s definition of true hardcore?”

Riley: “Frost threatened him! Jay Dawg is only going to show him who will be hurt!”

Stevens: “Yeah? Like he powerbombed a pregnant chick last Smarkdown? Real tough guy.”

Riley: “She jumped at him! What was he supposed to do!?”

The ref secures the door, making sure it is closed tight. He passes the hardcore belt to a crewmember and lets him take off, while he calls for the bell.

*DING* *DING* *DING*

Stevens: “Let’s get ready to party!”

Riley: “I’ll call the strippers!”

The two men rest in their respective corners, leaning back into the ropes, stretching out, getting a feel for the ring. Frost, clearly the larger of the two, steps away first. JD follow, skipping on both his feet, then lunges forward. JD leaves the mat and nails Frost with a front dropkick, knocking the Icelander into the corner. JD springs to his feet and leaps on top of Frost. He pulls out his fist and starts hammering Frost with right hands. After taking 10 rapid punches, Frost gets the energy to shove JD away, knocking him to the mat. The crowd gets hyped at the ultra quick start, as Frost propels his body out of the corner, and flattens Jay Dawg with a clothesline. Dawg returns to his vertical stance, and is dropped with a reverse elbow.

Steven: “They are already taking it to each other!”

JD gets to his feet, and Frost pulls him to the ropes, reversed by JD and Frost is whipped to the cables. One fast rebound and Frost is heading back for Jay Dawg, but is launched high with a back body drop! Frost lands hard on his back, and unknowingly gets to his feet. JD holds his hands out, begging Frost to get over there. Frost obliges and is tossed over the hip. Back to the feet, and Jay Dawg flips Frost with another hip toss. Frost gets to his feet one more time, and JD grabs him by the back of the head, running straight for the cage. Pausing one foot before the steel, JD lets the momentum carry Frost into the cage. Frost bounces his face off the steel and stumbles back into the clutches of the hardcore champ. JD runs to the opposite end, with Frost in his grip and throws him again. Frost gets his leg up, and blocks his face hitting the steel.

Stevens: “The cage is already being used as a weapon!”

Riley: “And Frost is saving his facial area!”

JD hangs on to the back of the neck, and pushes forward, but the overwhelming strength of Frost is too much, and JD can’t push any farther. Frost throws his elbow down low, dropping JD to a knee, pivots around, and pulls the hardcore champ into a front facelock. Frost tightens his grip, pulling JD partway off the ground with the facelock. Loosening his grip, Frost pivots his body, and throws JD into the meshing! Bouncing off the steel, JD turns back into Frost, who pops him with a right hand.

Stevens: “Frost is beginning to show his signs of aggression!”

Frost winds up with another right hand, but JD catches it, pulling it to the side. He quickly spins the arm into a wrench, and rolls it into a hammerlock. Frost lets out a brief shout of pain, taps his shoulder, and then throws his elbow out, hitting JD in the forehead. Frost throws a second elbow, but JD ducks that, releases the hammerlock in exchange for a waistlock. He lifts the challenger up and drops him hard with a belly-to-back suplex. JD hops to his feet, and shakes off his back. Standing in confidence, he raises his arms, getting a negative reaction from the crowd. He slowly walks toward Frost, and drops a knee onto his head.

Stevens: “Very back and forth! This has been great so far!”

Frost is gripping his forehead, while JD grabs a hold of his wrist. Frost switches grips quickly, and yanks JD over his body! JD lands on his back and rolls to his feet. Frost spins around and whacks JD with a painful backfist blast. The blow knocks JD to his knees, and he holds his mouth in sheer pain. Frost reaches down, and pulls JD to his feet, scooping him onto his shoulders, he tows him toward the cage, and launches him headfirst into the meshing! Upon hitting the cage, JD drops down, hanging his neck on the top rope, and bounces onto his back.

Stevens: “And there’s that size advantage right there! Frost is beginning to demonstrate how awesome he can be!”

Riley: “Size will only get you so far! Skill and charisma take you the rest of the way!”

Frost pulls JD to his feet, grabs his hand, and with one solid heave, Irish whips him into the ropes. JD hits the ropes so hard; they bend into the steel. Although still standing, JD holds his back in pain and stumbles to the center of the ring. Frost once again grabs him by the wrist, and heaves him into the ropes. SMASH!! The sound of back meeting steel echoes throughout the arena. JD stumbles forward a step, then falls backward, resting on the ropes.

Riley: “I have to admit! This is a methodical pace for the Icelander!”

Frost steps toward JD, pulling him off the ropes, but pushes him into the steel. Pinning him there, he winds up, and smokes him with a skin welting knife-edge chop. “WHOO!!” shouts the audience, as JD tries to scream out in pain, but his wind would have to be there for him to do that. Frost chuckles to himself, as he winds up again, having flesh to flesh connection with a painful chop. “WHOO!!”

Stevens: “Jay Dawg suffered minor burns in his match with Ash Ketchum last Monday! Those chops are more painful then normal!”

Riley: “No doubt! Being chopped by a guy the size of Frost is painful enough!”

Jay Dawg’s body slumps, his arms hooking the ropes, the only thing that gives him any balance. Frost grabs him by the ponytail, yanking off the band to allow the hair to flow freely. JD comes back with some short jabs, tottering Frost a wee bit. He twists, and hooks his arm overtops of Frost’s and pushes downward for the takeover. Frost doubles over slightly, but pulls back upward, bringing JD with him. He pushes Dawg into the ropes, and shakes his arm off as Hardcore Dawg returns. Frost is lucky enough to react before JD, and bends over, lifting Jay Dawg high into the air and far over his shoulder with a back body drop… into the cage! All of Jay Dawg’s back hits the steel, and he drops straight South, his head squeezing behind the ropes, but his mid-section landing on the top!

Stevens: “Dear god! That looked extremely painful!”

Riley: “Jesus! Did you see how far he threw him!? And how he landed!?”

Stevens: “I did! I did!”

Frost grabs the top rope, repeatedly shakes it, allowing Jay Dawg to bounce around constantly. He gives the current champ two weak kicks to the head. Teasing him to try something. JD pulls himself under the bottom rope, dragging his body into the center of the ring. Frost stares down, almost showing signs of pity. “You’re finished, Jay Dawg!” he shouts, and pulls the veteran into a standing headscissors.

Stevens: “Frost looks like he wants to end this battle early!”

Riley: “Well he can only win by climbing the cage!”

Frost lifts both arms into underhooks, but they are broken away. JD cradles both of his legs, and yanks them out with a double leg takedown. He leaps on top of Frost and starts feeding his face with punches. Frost pushes JD away, but the punches keep coming. Frost makes desperate block attempts in his journey to his feet. JD grabs the man by his tights, pulling him inward, he lifts him up, and drops him over his knee with a Manhattan drop! Frost clutches his groin, but not for long, as JD locks on a facelock and spins him over and hard into the mat with a swinging neckbreaker.

Stevens: “Frost went for the finish way too early and is now paying dearly for it!”

JD hooks the leg of Frost for the cover, and the referee begins to open the door. However Frost kicks out before that can happen, so the ref lets it be. JD gets to his feet, and assists Frost as well. He pulls Frost inward, with another arm wringer. He turns it into a hammerlock and gets himself firmly behind Frost. He runs forward, pushing Frost via the hammerlock straight into the cage! The impact knocks both men back a step; JD stays a meter from the cage, and rushes again! The impact of Frost’s shoulder doesn’t make much noise, but even the nosebleed seats can feel the pain. JD releases the hammerlock and Frost immediately clutches his shoulder.

Stevens: “Oww! Smart tactic by JD! If Frost can’t use his power, he is in severe amounts of trouble!”

Riley: “I love how he is using the cage to do it! That’s hardcore thinking!”

JD taunts Frost, mimicking his obviously sore arm. JD walks around in mocking pain. Half the audience cheers, the other half boos at the behavior of Jay Dawg. The hardcore champ cares less either way, as he rushes at Frost. But Frost catches JD, and lifts him high over his head with a Gorilla Press! Frost holds it for a second, then throws Jay Dawg 8 feet at the cage! The second JD hits the steel, he drops 8 feet below himself, and Frost drops to one knee, favoring his arm.

Stevens: “I don’t believe it! Where did Frost dig up that power display!?”

Riley: “That was scary! His shoulder has been fucked up, yet he was still able to lift the 250 pound Jay Dawg and throw him like he was nothing!”

JD crawls down on the mat, as Frost gives him a kick to the ribs. The fans are beginning to cheer, although it is uncertain for whom. Frost pulls JD into a standing headscissors and gets a loud reaction. He forces the hardcore CC member up onto his shoulder, and begins bending him in two with the Icelandic Backbreaker!

Stevens: “Ouch! Frost has on the Icelandic backbreaker! This will take all the fight out of Jay Dawg!”

Riley: “Bloody liar! That’s a Canadian backbreaker! Damn Geeselanders trying to steal Canada’s moves!”

Frost begins wincing in pain, as he holds JD up on his shoulder. His power not being able to bend JD the way he’d like to. When suddenly, he just let’s JD go, letting him fall to the mat and clutches his shoulder. JD returns to his feet and grabs the Iceman from Iceland, pulling him into a facelock. Frost hits quick shot to the ribs, knocking JD back. Frost stands up fully and lunges at JD with a clothesline. JD sidesteps the move, and takes Frost to the mat with a drop toehold! JD somersaults forward and applies the fujiwara armbar onto Frost! The audiences begin to cheer at the submission hold, knowing a tap out is very possible.

Stevens: “I have to hand it to Jay Dawg! He’s stuck to the arm!”

Riley: “That’s now his insurance! I’m pretty sure you can say the samething for Frost, with Jay Dawg’s back!”

JD keeps the arm pinned to the mat, but lifts his shoulder up, driving the point of his elbow into the shoulder of Frost. He reapplies the hold once more, and begins leaning on Frost. “ARRRGH!!” Frost shouts out, as the referee enters, checking if he wants to quit. “NO!!!” he shouts, not even considering the possibility. JD lifts up slightly, rolls his body over, and applies a facelock, then leans Frost forward with a packaged rollup! The referee sees the shoulders pinned and begins the count!

ONE…

TWO…

TH…

Frost gets his shoulder up! JD smacks that same shoulder into the mat. He makes the run for the turnbuckles, and hops to the second rope. He leaps off, and drives the point of his elbow into Frost’s chest. Another cover.

ONE…

TWO…

THR…

Again, Frost kicks out.

Stevens: “Two very close calls for Jay Dawg!”

JD grips his hair, starting to pull on it. The ref exits the cage as JD pulls Frost back to his feet. Frost gets a burst of energy, kicking Jay Dawg hard in the ribs, and knocking him backward. JD holds his mid-section, standing by the cage. Frost dashes for him, and Jay Dawg snaps to life! Catching Frost in an inverted waistlock! His drives with his legs, launching the 296 pound native Icelander over his head AND INTO THE CAGE WITH A BELLY-TO-BELLY SUPLEX!!!

The crowd goes funky monkey bananas, shouting out a “HOLY SHIT!!” chant.

Stevens: “Jay Dawg just belly to belly suplexed Frost! Jesus Murphy!”

Riley: “It’s not that! He did it to the cage! That has to hurt!”

JD begins clutching his lower back, trying to catch the rest of his breath, and walking around the ring. He finally makes his way to the ropes. He steps on the bottom rope and grabs some of the steel netting above. He begins to pull himself upward. JD grabs the steel pipe at the top, pulling himself to the height of the cage, and suddenly AC/DC's "TNT" cranks over the P.A. system. The arena starts up a wave of boos, showing large amount of dislike as the man known as TNT comes out. A chair hanging from each hand, he rushes down the ramp.

Stevens: “It’s Taylor Nicholas Thompson! He’s armed with ammo!”

Riley: “The man is keeping his word to Frost! What a man!”

The audience continues shooting out unflattering responses as TNT continues down the ramp. With a lob, he hurls one chair over the cage and into the ring. “Come on Frost! Get him!” JD gets his body all the way onto the top, and starts to turn over. Acting quickly, TNT throws his second chair in the air. CLANK!! On it’s way down, it hits JD in the back of the head and falls into the ring! JD drops his head inside the cage, and lets his body hold his weight. Frost finally up again, walks toward the cage where lies JD. He starts the climb upward, and due to his height, quickly grabs a hold of Dawg’s hair.

Stevens: “What does Frost have planned here!?”

Riley: “I dunno! But he better be thanking TNT many times for saving him this match!”

Frost steps into the steel netting, finally high enough so he can lock a facelock onto JD. He pulls Jay Dawg’s arm over his shoulder and drags him off the top of the cage, and both men FALL BACK WITH A SKY HIGH SUPERPLEX!!! Jay Dawg hits the mat so hard, he bounces nearly a meter and falls back down to the mat. Frost rests on his back, in great deals of pain, but starts to roll his body over.

Stevens: “WHOA!!! WHAT A SUPERPLEX!!! That had to be at least ten feet!”

Riley: “Jay Dawg fell from the cage! Did you see how high he bounced!?”

His body feeling multiple spasms, JD tries to stretch his muscles as he rolls over. Trying to end any feeling. The crowd starts up a “WE WANT BLOOD!!” chant as JD and Frost desperately get to their feet. Surprisingly, JD gets there just a hair quicker and turns to the ropes, with all his energy, he jumps onto the steel and starts the climb. Frost watches as JD starts to climb the cage slower and slower up the cage. Smiling, Frost picks up one of the chairs, allowing JD to clear the ropes, he finally swings full force. CRACK!! And JD stops in his tracks, trying to shake off the pain but to no avail. Frost grabs the back of the pants, and tugs backward, pulling JD off the cage and hard into the mat. Bouncing painfully off the mat, JD rolls to his front, looks up for half a second, then let’s his face collapse into the mat.

Stevens: “JD tried to escape after taking that massive superplex!”

Riley: “He was in a state of taking candy from a baby! BONG!!”

Frost turns back to the cage, and starts to climb. JD shows some signs of life, and begins crawling toward him. Frost easily grabs the top and starts pulling him upward. JD pushes up to his feet and leaps at the cage, grabbing Frost by the legs and holds on for dear life. Frost tries to shake it off but JD shakes his head, almost like it’s a submission. Frost kicks him backward, finally breaking the hold. JD stumbles around the ring, his brown locks swinging in and out of his face. Frost balances himself on the top rope, and when JD pivots around, he leaps off and squashes Jay Dawg with a super clothesline!

Stevens: “What athletic ability by the Iceman from Iceland!”

Riley: “Pffft! A guy like Fallout can do a double somersault, and yet you cheer for a guy who can do a clothesline just because he is a hundred pounds heavier! You disgust me!”

Stevens: “But… bah nevermind rug muncher!”

Frost gets back to his feet and pulls Jay Dawg up as well. He grabs JD by the back of the pants, and the neck and runs for the cage! With a simple fling, JD is propelled into the cage. Frost picks up a chair, and JD prances around in a drunken state. Frost winds up and SMACK!! JD once again meets steel then mat. Frost looks down at his victim, showing a sick, toothy grin. He unfolds the chair and places it in the center of the ring. He grabs the other chair and JD slowly pushes himself off the mat. He gets to his feet as Frost takes the chair beside the other one. JD sneaks up behind, tapping Frost on the shoulder. The Icelandic giant turns around to see JD leap in the air, spinning 360 degrees, and propels his leg out with a deadly Thai Roundhouse kick!

Stevens: “SWEET TOOTH LOOSENING INTO THE CHAIR!!”

Riley: “That has to be a tooth loosened! Ha!”

Frost lies on the mat, the chair over his head. JD lies on his stomach, the elbows supporting him somewhat. He looks over to the door and slowly crawls over.

Stevens: “Jay Dawg is looking to exit through the door, if he does, he retains his title!”

Riley: “Umm duh! Everyone knew that!”

Stevens: “I was hyping it you jackass!”

The audience begins to boo as Jay Dawg heads for the cage, getting there bit by bit. He slowly raises to his knees, crawling at a bit faster pace. The ref begins to open the door but suddenly it is slammed shut! JD looks up to see a snarling Taylor Nicholas Thompson! He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a lock. “You fucking whore!” JD shouts, his wind taking away most of the voice. TNT simply lifts up his fist, and flips out the middle finger, before locking the cage door shut! JD smacks his hand to the mat, and uses the ropes to bring himself up.

Stevens: “TNT just evened this match out, locking Jay Dawg in the cage!”

Riley: “He cost him the match! If he wasn’t in Wilson’s stable, I’d give him the beating of a lifetime!”

JD looks down at Frost and picks up the chair over top of him. JD unfolds the chair and places it beside the other one in the center of the ring. He pulls Frost up and into a standing headscissors. He points down to TNT. “This is on your head, you son of a bitch!” TNT shakes the cage, trying to motivate Frost. JD lifts Frost up, no. Frost struggles halfway, and is dropped back to his feet. Frost twists out of the headscissors, and stands up, draping his arm over Jay Dawg chest for a uranage! JD throws his elbow, cracking Frost in the side of the head. JD pulls Frost into a facelock, leaping in the air for the JD DDT! NO! Frost holds his ground, he moves his body behind Jay Dawg’s, applying a half nelson. Frost twists JD back into a headscissors, underhooking Jay Dawg’s spare arm. He powers the Dawgmeister up, steps to the chairs, and POWERBOMBS HIM WITH THE EARLY WINTER THROUGH THE CHAIRS!!!

Stevens: “OH MY GOD!!!”

Riley: “What a counter by Frost! He needs to get over the cage now!”

Frost lays on his back, grabbing his shoulder. JD lies in the messed up chairs, drool coming out of his mouth. TNT is going insane on the outside. “Come on Frost!” The audience begins to boo as a man runs down the ramp.

Stevens: “That’s Lerrin Breggan! What’s he doing out here!?”

Riley: “Evening the odds!”

The man grabs TNT by the back of his pants and throws him into the steel cage! TNT bounces off the steel and into the arms of Lerrin. The newest Creative Control member lifts TNT over his shoulder and runs for the cage. SMASH!! Lerrin takes a few steps back, and charges forward again. SMASH!! TNT begins to look sick, his ribcage sore as hell.

Riley: “Look at this Lerrin Breggan guy rip apart TNT!”

Stevens: “TNT has already had a match with ELM where he got his ass kicked! Now this!?”

Lerrin pulls TNT into a reverse headscissors. He reaches back and underhooks the arms, twisting around so TNT is back to back with him and lifts him into the reverse Gory special set up. Lerrin jumps in the air, and smashes TNT into the outside mat with a Vertebreaker! Lerrin rolls TNT over and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a key for the lock.

Stevens: “Oh my god! Lerrin Breggan has just killed TNT with that jumping vertebreaker!”

In the ring, Frost is by the ropes., slowly climbing up them. JD rolls over on the mat, lying over top one of the chairs. He grips onto it, pulling it close as he climbs to his feet. Frost pulls closer to the top as JD walks further inward, chair in hand. He hangs on tight as he swings it full force. SMASH!!! The chair smokes the shoulder of Frost! “AHHHH!!!” Frost shouts as he is now dangling with the one arm. JD drops the chair and climbs up with Frost. He grabs Frost by the back of the head and smashes him facefirst into the steel. JD repeatedly smashes Frost’s head into the steel, rapid blasts, then pulls the weakened arm inward, grabbing the head, and grapevining the leg. He smashes Frost into the steel one more time, then launches off, driving the bodies into the mat with a super Russian leg sweep!

Stevens: “Russian Leg Sweep from the top rope!”

Riley: “What a move!”

JD turns over, grabbing the chair Frost has. He hangs on and sticks the chair under Frost’s head. JD grabs the other chair, morphed into messed up positions. He jams it into Frost’s arm. JD lifts the chair one more time and smashes it into Frost’s head with the one-man con chair toe! “ARRGHH!!” JD lifts the chair up again and smashes it into Frost’s head!

Stevens: “Somebody stop this! Jay Dawg is losing it!”

Riley: “I love it! This is hard-fucking-core!”

The chant of “WE WANT BLOOD!! FUCK HIM UP!!” kicks into full course. JD lifts the chair again, and smashes it into Frost’s head! The body of the Icelander begins to twitch. “I’M HARDCORE!!” Jay Dawg shouts, as he lifts the chair one more time and smashes it into Frost’s head! JD lets the chair go, as Frost lays motionless, head viced in between two chairs. JD turns to the ropes and begins to climb the cage with a vengeance, pulling his body up quickly. The camera gets a close up, and blood can be seen coming out of Frost’s head.

Stevens: “Jay Dawg has left Frost in a pile of his own blood! I don’t believe it!”

JD pulls himself onto the top. Standing at the very top of the cage, he looks out to the crowd. He snaps his eyes open, allowing the crowd to be able to paint a picture of anger. He holds onto his back and looks down at Lerrin who is telling him to get his ass down there. JD looks back into the ring, and shakes his head to Lerrin. He holds his arms out and DIVES OFF THE CAGE WITH THE SWANDIVE HEADBUTT!!! Soaring through the air, the flashbulbs engulf the arena with the light, CRASH!!! Cranium to steel with the damndest diving headbutt you’ll ever see!

Stevens: “HOLY CHRIST!!! DID YOU SEE THAT!!!?”

Riley: “I DID!! I DID!! That’s scary!”

Nearly thirty seconds later, JD lifts the chair up, to see blood coming out of Frost’s forehead. The camera catches a glimpse of JD, and the Crimson red had cursed him too. He falls over, draping his arm over Frost. On the outside, Lerrin runs to the door, using the key he found from TNT and opens the door! The ref dives in there and slaps the mat!

ONE…

Stevens: “This has gotta be all!”

TWO…

THREE!!!

Rammstein’s ‘Du Haste’ hits the speakers and the bell rings.

Funyon: “The winner of this match via pinfall! AND STILL S-W-F Hardcore champion! JAY DAWG!!!”

Riley: “I can’t believe this battle has to end with a fucking commercial break!”

Stevens: “What Riley is saying is we are out of time! Stay tuned for our Main Event is next!”

July 13, 2002

Cheers. A once highly successful TV show, and also the response of the crowd in the packed Mile One Arena in St. John’s, Newfoundland, Canada, the rabid fans cheering like monkeys on crack as Storm returns to the air. The camera swings around the stands before settling back on the commentary duo of doom, “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley.

“Welcome back to Storm! With Bobby Riley, I’m Mark Stevens, and it’s time for our main event! Two members of the Magnificent Seven will be looking to spoil Spider Nekura’s big return to the SWF as he teams alongside his long-time stablemate Thoth!”

“Hey, Stevens, the M7 guys aren’t anonymous, you know! Stryke and the Boston Strangler are great wrestlers, and they’ll show you just how damn good they can be in a moment!”

“Well, a moment ago, Strangler showed us how EVIL he can be as he sent Frost and TNT to take out Erek Taylor! Taylor is being helped backstage, and is badly bruised from the impact of the aluminum bat against his chest!”

“Taylor decided that he wanted to screw with Strangler, and he got himself a big dose of the Magnificent 7 in return! Maybe now he’ll figure out what he’s up against!”

“Hopefully Strangler and Stryke realize what they’re up against! The Clan and Carnival, two of the greatest stables in the history of the SWF, have united, and they’re hell-bent on taking out the Magnificent 7! And tonight, Spider Nekura will set foot in an SWF ring for the first time in months! I’d be real worried if I was Strangler and Stryke!”

“I’d be worried if I was Nekura! He might have been great, but he’s going in there against two of the best the SWF has to offer with months of rust on him! Not a recipe for success, if you ask me.”

“God knows you’ve never figured out that recipe either…anywise, it’s time to get going! Tonight’s main event is NOW!”

The lights dim in the arena, and the crowd get to their feet in readiness for whoever’s on their way out.

“What’s wrong, motherfucker? You were a man, just a minute ago…”

The crowd roars to life as “You Were” blasts over the speakers, signaling the arrival of no other than the Clan! Wasting little time Spider Nekura and Thoth walk out onto the stage, clad in their Clan robes. ‘So says the Clan…’ flashes on the SmarkTron as both men make their way down the ramp, Funyon climbing into the ring for the introductions.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, it’s time for our Main Event of the evening. The following contest is a Tag Team Match, set for one fall. Entering first, weighing in at a combined 467lbs, the team of THOTH and SPIDER NEKURA, THE CLAN!!!”

The pair head down the ramp receiving quite the ovation, far more cheers than the Clan would usually get.

“A good amount of cheers for the Clan here. We’ve seen Thoth getting more positive reactions since he first opposed Chris Wilson, and having an alliance of sorts with the Midnight Carnival looks to be making the Clan even more popular with the fans.”

“That’s because the fans are stupid. These dumb Canadians just don’t appreciate the talent of the Magnificent Seven. They’ll kick the Clanival’s asses, the magnificent is in the name for a reason.”

Thoth and Nekura reach the ring, sliding in and removing their robes before climbing the turnbuckles, Spider’s arms outstretched in his ‘scarecrow’ pose as Thoth tosses his robe uncaringly to the floor before looking out into the crowd. Both men then hop back down and move together by their corner, discussing tactics for the match. The crowd continue to cheer, but as “Toxicity” by System of a Down kicks up the arena erupts in boos.

“And here come Stryke and the Boston Strangler!”

As tremendous boos rain down the Bostonian and the Australian walk out of the entrance, their eyes focused on their opponents as they make their way down the ramp, Funyon once again bringing the microphone to his mouth.

“Now making their way to the ring, weighing a combined 522lbs, representing the MAGNIFICENT SEVEN, they are STRYKE and THE BOSTON STRANGLER!!!”

The crowd continue to boo their hearts out as the Magnificent Seven duo climb into the ring, quickly moving past the Clan pair and heading to their corner on the far side of the ring.

“What a team they are. The awesome power and strength of the Strangler, and the fast, high flying ability of Stryke. Add in Stryke being one half of the Tag Champions for the last month and you’d have to think the Magnificent Seven have the advantage here.”

“A good point Bobby, but it is the first time both men have tagged together, while Thoth and Spider Nekura have previously and would be more familiar with each other from their long time together in The Clan, so Spider and Thoth may have the advantage from that standpoint. These two technical masters have to be considered the heavy favorite in this matchup. But whatever happens, it should be a very hard fought contest between these two opposing stables.”

The referee orders one man from each team to step out of the ring, before signaling for the ring bell to start the match.

DING DING DING!

A cheer goes up as the bell rings to start the match. Thoth steps out onto the apron after a few words with the Clan’s leader. Spider moves into the center of the ring and awaits his opponent, and that opponent is The Boston Strangler. Stryke steps through the ropes as the largest man in the match moves forward to combat the Clannite.

“The Boston Strangler starting for his team, quite the formidable foe for Spider to make his return against.”

Each man slowly moves towards the other in the middle of the ring, before the two very intense individuals lock up, a cheer going up as they battle for position. It doesn’t take long for the size and strength advantage of Strangler to show through though, Strangler forcing Nekura back towards the neutral ring corner.

“Look at that Mark, the power of the Strangler already making his mark on the match.”

Strangler gets Nekura right back to the corner, but just before he is forced back in Spider spins Strangler around and pushes him into the turnbuckles, breaking free and laying in the punches on the larger man. Strangler rocks back from the hard blows, before getting his arm up to block an incoming punch and coming back with a big head BUTT, his head slamming into Spider and sending him reeling back. Nekura drops to one knee and holds his head before getting back to his feet. With his head still ringing from the hard blow, his pain is only amplified as Strangler charges out of the corner, catching Spider with a big clothesline and dropping him to the mat hard, the fans booing as Strangler drops down and goes for the cover.

ONE…

TW… No, Spider easily kicks out.

“Strangler in charge early, getting on top of Spider to start things off. Perhaps Nekura may be a tad rusty after being gone from active competition for as long as he has.”

Strangler quickly gets back to his feet, pulling Spider up behind him. Strangler delivers a hard punch to the head of Nekura, sending Nekura staggering back towards the ropes. Strangler keeps on him, throwing several more hard right hands before taking the reeling Spider by the arm and whipping him across the ring, Spider rebounds off the ropes as Strangler runs after looking to take his opponent down with another hard clothesline. This time Spider is ready though, ducking underneath and turning around on the spot, catching Strangler with a quick kick to the back of the calf, sending Strangler stumbling forward into the ropes to the cheers of the fans.

“Spider avoids the clothesline and goes after the legs of the larger man, a smart tactic to take away Strangler’s power and leverage advantage.”

“It won’t make a difference, Stevens. Strangler has the strength of a bear that has the strength of two bears!”

“Riley, your analogies never cease to amaze me…”

Strangler bounces off the ropes and comes back at Spider, but in his haste walks right into a sharp Jumping Spinning Heel Kick, then move sending Strangler crashing to the mat to a big cheer from the very anti-M7 crowd.

“A great move from Nekura there, it’s moves like that that make him the feared competitor that he is.”

Spider hops right back up as Strangler stumbles back up. The Boston native is immediately set upon by Spider, who lays a barrage of punches into Strangler’s massive frame as Thoth shouts encouragement from the apron. Nekura quickly whips Strangler into the ropes, and as Strangler comes back with a double axe handle Spider catches him, before lifting him over with a T-Bone suplex, the fans going up as Strangler crashes hard into the mat.

“Suplexing a larger opponent obviously took a lot out of Nekura! Pinfall attempt!” screams Stevens

ONE…

TWO…

TH… No, Strangler powers his shoulder off the mat, but at the same time Stryke also dives into the ring, knocking Spider off just in case Strangler didn’t kick out.

“Stryke going to disrupt the pin, he knows what it takes to be successful in a tag match, Mark. The Clan will have to take both opponents out if they want the pin here.”

With heavy boos coming down on him, Stryke gives a look of contempt to the fans before heading back to his corner. However, just as he reaches the ropes, the boos of the crowd turn to cheers as Spider Nekura is back to his feet and running at Stryke. Spider plows into him from behind, sending him right over the ropes to the floor below as the fans cheer loudly at Stryke getting his just desserts from trying to disrupt the pin.

“Spider isn’t taking Stryke’s interference very lightly, BR! He just sent Stryke out to the hard concrete floor.”

“And that’s SO unlike Spider! He’s always been known for his easygoing demeanor and his wonderful sense of humor! Idiot.”

Spider looks down with a look of anger on his face at the fallen Stryke, but fails to notice that the Boston Strangler is back on his feet behind him. Nekura turns to head to his corner, but the warning from Thoth comes too late, as Strangler nearly kicks Nekura’s head out of the arena with a big boot, drawing a large ‘OOOOHHH!’ from the crowd at the impact.

“Mark, you can NEVER take your eye off Strangler, even for a second, and he just showed why, decapitating Spider Nekura with a huge big boot.”

Spider crashes back to the mat, and with the Clannie temporarily taken care, of Strangler waits for Stryke to get back on the apron before tagging the Australian into the match. A wave of boos descends on the Showstopper as he climbs between the ropes and gets his first action of the night.

“Strangler makes the first tag of the night, bringing in the fresher Stryke. If Stryke and Strangler can continue to isolate Spider and keep Thoth out of the match, this could be over REAL quickly.”

Stryke gets into the ring and quickly picks Nekura up as he moves over toward the side ring ropes. Stryke lifts Nekura up, grunting under the weight, before dropping him onto his knee with a backbreaker. Spider drops back to the canvas with a look of pain on his face. Stryke, however, isn’t finished, as he charges at the opposite ring ropes and rebounds off, performing a cartwheel and ends up facing away from Spider. Stryke pauses momentarily before springing back with a standing moonsault, crashing down onto the chest of Spider and keeping himself in place for a lateral press as the crowd boos vehemently.

ONE…

TWO…

THR… No, Nekura is able to kick out, forcing Stryke’s weight off his shoulders and stopping the count.

“Stryke utilizing his athleticism right off the bat with that sensational cartwheel moonsault hitting its target dead-on. Mark, these guys are unstoppable! They’ve dominated all night!”

“Well BR, Stryke’s quickness, when coupled with the raw power of the Boston Strangler, make for a complete meshing of styles. That’s not good news for their opponents, who need to completely change their offensive and defensive approach every time a tag is made!”

Stryke hops to his feet, and stares at Thoth in the opposite corner, who looks desperate to get into the ring while Spider Nekura pushes himself up, obviously weary from the beating at the hands of the Magnificent 7. Stryke returns his attention to the small figure of Spider Nekura, who has gotten back to one knee, and halts Spider’s progress with a sharp, swift kick to the jaw. Nekura recoils but keeps his balance, and continues to try and force his way up. The crowd begins to cheer, trying to rally behind Nekura, who snaps back from another hard shot from Stryke. However, Nekura once again keeps his balance, and attempts to get to his feet once again. A visibly agitated Stryke rears back and sends a massive shot straight for Spider’s skull. The crowd erupts at the same instant that Stryke’s face turns slightly paler, as Nekura calmly reaches up and grabs Stryke’s foot before sending Stryke tumbling to the mat with a dragon screw. Stryke rolls to the other side of the ring, and immediately starts to bring himself to his feet. Meanwhile, Nekura finally staggers to his feet, stumbles into his corner, and makes a tag to a fired-up Thoth, who barges into the ring.

“Nekura makes a BIG tag to Thoth! The Clan is back in business here!”

“Thoth hasn’t even done anything yet, Stevens! How about you let Stryke have a chance before you anoint Thoth king of the friggin’ universe?”

Thoth stalks over toward Stryke, who turns to see the Balancer moving toward him. Stryke throws a wild, swinging blow at Thoth, which Thoth blocks with ease. Stryke throws another, more accurate punch, which Thoth also blocks, following up with a sharp uppercut to Stryke’s jaw. The impact sends Stryke sailing up against the ropes, dazed from the surprisingly strong blow. Thoth leans forward, grabs ahold of Stryke’s forearm, and whips Stryke to the opposite side of the ring. Stryke bounces off the ropes, and comes racing back towards Thoth. As Stryke reaches Thoth, the Balancer grabs ahold of Stryke’s arm, and sends him flipping straight into the mat with a loud crash. Stryke lies spread-eagle on his back, stunned from the impact, as Thoth crawls over and makes the cover.

“Could the flipping arm drag finish it?”

ONE!

TWO!!

T….

“No! Stryke kicks out after two, and the match continues on.”

Thoth pushes himself up, and drags Stryke to his feet as well. Thoth runs toward the ropes, but is stopped in his tracks as the Boston Strangler plants his right hand in Thoth’s back as he hits the ropes. Thoth, with a slight grimace on his face, turns and sends his fist directly into Strangler’s face, sending the big man flying off the apron and drawing a big pop from the crowd. Thoth turns back, but is met by a recovered Stryke, who smashes his foot straight into Thoth’s jaw with a lightning-quick superkick. Thoth drops to the mat, laid out by the Heatseeker, as Stryke quickly flops to the mat and hooks Thoth’s leg for the pin.

ONE!

TWO!!

THR…and Nekura interrupts the count with a well-placed boot to the back of Stryke’s head. Stryke rolls off of Thoth as the referee pushes a grinning Nekura back into his corner. Stryke struggles to his feet at the same time Thoth stands up. The two men turn to each other, and both take a swing at each other. Thoth manages to dodge off to the side, and lands his punch on Stryke’s jaw while the Showstopper’s punch meets nothing but air. Stryke recoils from the force of Thoth’s blow, and is caught off-balance by Thoth, who grabs ahold of Stryke’s head, tucks it down by his side, and drops him to the mat with a double-arm DDT, bringing the crowd back into the match. Thoth quickly rolls Stryke onto his back, and covers Stryke.

“Thoth with the big maneuver! This could be it, BR!”

ONE!

TWO!!

THR….

“And Strangler breaks it up this time! Strangler with a big boot straight to the back of Thoth, breaking what looked to be a three count!”

“Stryke was just about to kick out. He isn’t gonna get pinned by some double armed DDT! He’s not a wuss like you are, Stevens!”

Strangler and Thoth stare at each other before Strangler is pushed back into his corner by the agitated referee. Thoth picks Stryke up, and drags him along to the Clan corner. Thoth throws Stryke into the turnbuckles, then tags in Nekura before laying a series of punches into the abdomen of Stryke. Spider joins in as Strangler continues to fight the referee, trying to help his partner. As the ref finally forces Strangler to the apron, Thoth slips through the ropes, and Nekura takes over, laying punch after punch into Stryke’s gut.

“And the Clan shows their tag experience, using the double team to perfection there when the referee had his back turned! Nekura and Thoth are a spectacular tag team!”

“They’re a bunch of cheaters, Mark! If Strangler and Stryke had Nekura in the corner, you’d be going on and on with your ‘unfair advantage’ and your ‘oh, the humanity’ and the ‘damn Magnificent 7’!”

“There’s a giant difference there: The Magnificent 7 are evil, and the Clan aren’t….god, I never thought that I’d be saying that…”

Nekura bends down, and uses his leverage to lift Stryke up, and place him, sitting, on the top turnbuckle. The crowd begins to rise to their feet in anticipation, remembering what comes next from Nekura. Nekura backs into the corner, and grabs Stryke’s arms, putting him in a crucifix position.

“Nekura has Stryke set up for the Crucifix Iconoclasm! This could finish the match right here!”

Suddenly, Nekura jerks forward, a mask of pain spreading across his face as Stryke connects with a sharp kick. Stryke sends the toe of his boot snapping into Nekura’s back again, causing Nekura to release the hold on Stryke, and turn to face the reviving Aussie. Stryke lashes forward once again, hitting Nekura directly in the face with a massive kick. Nekura flops to the mat as Stryke slowly stands up, regaining his balance on the turnbuckle. Thoth tries to grab Stryke’s leg, but the Showstopper has already taken flight, soaring through the air before planting a guillotine leg drop directly across Spider Nekura’s chest. As the crowd goes silent, Stryke rolls over for the cover.

ONE!

TWO!!

THRE…

“And Nekura kicked out! What incredible power from Nekura to have the energy to kick out after a high-impact maneuver like that!”

Stryke rolls over, a stunned look on his face. Nekura begins to struggle up, with a “SPIDER! SPIDER!” chant from the crowd urging him on. Stryke looks around, then notices Nekura has crawled to within inches of his corner, where Thoth waits, hand outstretched. As Nekura gathers all the energy left in his body for a final lunge, Stryke grabs ahold of Nekura’s leg, and yanks backwards, halting Nekura’s progress. Stryke stands up, and drags Nekura back toward the Magnificent 7 corner as the crowd boos, disappointed that Nekura couldn’t make the tag. Stryke drops the tired, beaten body of Spider, and reaches out, tagging in the Boston Strangler again.

“The Clan almost came through there, but Stryke made the save, and the tag to the Boston Strangler. Now Nekura is trapped in the ring with a 300 pound monster! BR, Spider’s chances don’t look too good!”

“No one’s chances look good against Strangler! This guy is 303 pounds of pure power! Nekura better be ready for the beating of a lifetime!”

“If there’s one thing Nekura is good at, it’s using people’s power against them! We’ll have to see if he has anything left first, though!”

Strangler stomps over to Nekura, and plants his size-16 boot in the small of Spider Nekura’s back. The Clan’s leader moans, and rolls onto his side, trying to protect his already-sore back. Strangler pounds away on Nekura with another hard boot to the side, sending Nekura rolling into the nearest corner for safety. As Thoth yells at Nekura, begging him for a tag, Strangler grabs Spider, and pulls him up with one hand. Strangler stares at him with contempt, and then shoves him roughly into the corner. Strangler begins to stomp away on Spider, sending shot after hard shot into Spider’s gut with his massive boot, sending the sinking Spider lower and lower on the turnbuckles. As Spider slumps to the ground, with his head resting against the bottom turnbuckle, Strangler backs up all the way to the opposite turnbuckle. As the crowd’s jeers grow louder, Strangler charges toward Spider, picking up a head of steam before dropping down into a baseball slide dropkick, and connecting with……the bottom turnbuckle.

“Nekura dodged the dropkick! Strangler is down, Nekura is down, and it’s a race to their feet!”

As the crowd begins a “WE WANT CLAN!” *clap clap clapclapclap* chant, Strangler pushes himself up, followed closely by Nekura. Strangler reaches for Spider, wraps his hands around Spider’s forearm, and whips Nekura toward the ropes. Nekura goes racing toward the ropes, but flips onto his hands, and hits the rope in a handstand position before coming flying back toward Strangler with a flying back elbow. The elbow catches Strangler squarely in the face, sending the big man staggering back against the ropes as Spider, with a little bit of spring in his step, and the crowd roaring in his support, gets to his feet. Strangler pushes himself off the ropes, and goes straight at Nekura with a lariat. Nekura ducks the lariat and ducks behind the off-balance Strangler. Nekura locks on a rear waistlock, and, lifting with all his might, drops Strangler over the back of his head with a German suplex.

“Good lord, BR! Spider just gave the Boston Strangler a German suplex!”

“How the hell did Nekura do that! He’s tiny compared with Strangler!”

“I told you earlier! Nekura’s greatest strength is his use of other people’s strength against them! His incredible technical knowledge of wrestling moves in general make up for his lack of brute strength!”

Strangler lies on the mat, his eyes clouded over from the impact as he stares up at the ceiling. Nekura staggers to his feet, drained from the suplex, but with a zealous, edgy look in his eye. He looks at Strangler lying on the mat, and climbs underneath the ropes onto the apron before scaling the turnbuckle. Nekura balances himself on top of the top turnbuckle, then readies himself. He bounces on the ropes once, twice, and prepares to leap forward before Stryke plants both hands on Nekura’s back, shoving the surprise Clannie forward. Nekura falls forward, doing a belly flop onto the mat, as the crowd boos Stryke, who mocks the crowd as he heads back toward the Magnificent 7 corner.

“Nekura was looking to hit the Black Widow Bomb on Strangler, but Stryke ruined that as he pushed Nekura off the top rope! He could have killed Nekura by doing that!”

“And Nekura could have killed Strangler WITH the Black Widow Bomb. It all goes around. It’s the CIRCL…”

“Don’t even THINK about singing it.”

As Stryke revels in the boos of the crowd, he looks up surprised as the fans begin to cheer instead. Stryke turns, and is met with a hard clothesline from Thoth, who has come racing over from his own corner. Stryke drops off the apron, and is soon followed by Thoth, who begins to pound away on the downed Showstopper. The referee, noticing Stryke and Thoth brawling near the ramp, slides out of the ring and tries to sort out the fight. Meanwhile, a somewhat revived Strangler slips out the other side of the ring. Strangler heads for the ring bell table, and grabs Funyon’s chair, sending the announcer scurrying for cover. Strangler folds the chair up, and slides into the ring where Nekura, still somewhat woozy from the Black Widow Bomb gone wrong, has gotten to his feet. Nekura looks around for Strangler, and turns directly into a MASSIVE chairshot from the Boston Strangler. The CRRACK! of the shot reverberates around the arena, and Nekura drops, lifeless, to the mat. Strangler slides the chair out of his side of the ring, then yells at the referee, in the process of getting Stryke back into his corner, to get over and make the count. The referee slides into the ring just as Strangler, being deluged by boos from the Mile One Arena crowd, applies the lateral press to Spider.

ONE!

TWO!!

THREE!

“NO! Nekura kicked out! Somehow, deep within himself, he found the energy to kick out from that brutal chairshot Strangler gave him!”

“NOOOO! How did this happen, Stevens? What the hell just happened?”

“Riley, I think Strangler got cocky! He didn’t hook the leg of Nekura, and that may have enabled Nekura to escape a predicament he otherwise wouldn’t have been able to!”

Strangler, in disbelief himself, gets up as the crowd goes crazy for Nekura. Thoth, relieved to still be in the match, renews his attempts to get a tag once again. Thoth begins to slap the top turnbuckle, soon rallying the entire arena behind him with claps for Nekura. Strangler quickly stomps on Nekura’s back before lifting the resilient Clannie to his feet once again. Strangler whips Nekura toward the ropes, and sets himself up for the Boston Massacre, but Nekura leaps into the air, and whips Strangler to the mat with a headscissors takedown. The crowd goes nuts once again as both men lie motionless on the ground while their partners strain their arms to the limit, trying to make it just a little bit easier to make the tag.

“Both men are down! They both need a tag! Who’s gonna get there first? This one is completely up for grabs right now, and whoever can make the first tag is at a GIGANTIC advantage!”

Strangler is the first to move, slowly dragging himself toward his corner. Stryke steps up onto the bottom rope, straining even harder to reach Strangler. Nekura begins to drag himself, inch by inch, toward his corner, where Thoth is raring to go. Nekura and Strangler continue to inch toward their respective corners, with the crowd’s anticipation growing by the second. At almost the same instance, Strangler and Nekura lean forward, and tag Stryke and Thoth into the match to a HUGE pop from the fans.

“Here we go! Two new men! Stryke and Thoth are ready to go at it here!”

Stryke charges at Thoth, looking for a clothesline, but Thoth sidesteps it with ease. Stryke whirls around, but is grabbed by Thoth, who whips Stryke into the corner. Stryke lands hard against the turnbuckles, and is soon rocked back as Thoth charges into Stryke with a hard clothesline. Stryke comes stumbling out of the corner, and Thoth locks onto Stryke, grabbing him before sending him flying over his head with a Northern Lights suplex. The crowd explodes as Stryke smashes into the mat, rolling onto his stomach. Thoth turns to the Magnificent 7 corner, and charges toward Strangler, who is still recovering from his time in the ring. Thoth sends Strangler to the floor with a hard right forearm into Strangler’s jaw, drawing another cheer from the crowd.

“Thoth is cleaning house here! The fresh man for the Clan is dominating, and the Magnificent 7 are being absolutely dominated!”

“Give the M7 time to recover! Things aren’t over yet!”

Thoth grabs Stryke, picking him off the canvas, and sends him into the ropes once again. As Stryke comes flying back towards Thoth, Stryke manages to duck the lariat attempt, and continues to fly toward the opposite set of ropes. Stryke bounces off of those, and comes sailing toward Thoth before leaping into the air and drilling the Balancer with a dropkick to his ribcage. Thoth drops to the mat, obviously caught by surprise, as Stryke rolls over onto Thoth, and hooks the leg for the cover.

ONE!

TWO!!

THRE….

“And Thoth kicks out! The dropkick just wasn’t enough to keep Thoth down!”

“Now THERE’S a real stunner. A dropkick didn’t get a 3 count. Got any more expert analysis for us, Grand Slam?”

“Hilarious, Riley. Really, it was.”

Stryke gets to his feet, a determined look on his face. He calls for the Overdrive as Thoth gets to his feet, slightly shaken by the dropkick. Stryke lunges forward for Thoth, but Thoth escapes, and drives a knee into Stryke’s guy. Stryke bends over, the wind completely knocked out of him, as Thoth backs up, then leaps into the air, his leg extended. Stryke, still trying to catch his breath, is caught by surprise as Thoth spikes Stryke to the mat with a guillotine face driver, smashing the Showstopper into the mat face-first. Thoth gets to his feet, and raises both hands into the air. The crowd responds with a massive cheer, guessing at what is coming up next.

“BR, it looks like Thoth is gonna look to hit the Riot of the Blood here and finish this match off once and for all!”

“It ain’t over ‘till the fat lady sings, Stevens!”

As Thoth waits for Stryke, who is struggling to his feet, he feels a hand grasp onto his shoulder and whirl him around. The Boston Strangler sends a fist flying toward Thoth’s face, but Thoth blocks the punch, and sends a hard shot straight into Strangler’s stomach. Strangler stumbles back, taken by surprise, and then takes another punch from Thoth to the face. Strangler goes flying up into a straight standing position, leaving himself wide-open to attack. Thoth leans back, and sends his hand smashing into Strangler’s stomach. Strangler drops to the mat as Thoth, with a slight grin, turns back to the ring. Thoth turns and finds a fully recovered Stryke waiting for him. Before he can react, Stryke grabs Thoth and hoists him into a fireman’s carry before quickly sending Thoth crashing to the mat with the Overdrive. Thoth rolls onto his back, and lies motionless on the mat as Stryke covers the Balancer, who is down and out.

ONE!

“It’s over, Stevens! He hit the Overdrive!”

“Not yet, BR! Here comes Spider!”

TWO!!

Nekura comes dashing into the ring, headed straight for Stryke, when Strangler comes flying across the ring and NAILS Nekura with a spear. Spider crumples to the mat underneath the massive Strangler…

“Where’s your Spider now, Stevens?”

THREE!!!

DING DING DING!

“YOUR WINNERS, representing the Magnificent SEVEN, the Boston STRRRRRANGLER AND STTRYKE!”

“Dammit! The Magnificent Seven take this one, but not without an all-out brawl, some illegal chairshots, and a little bit of deception by Strangler!”

“Get over it, Stevens! The M7 won with a perfectly clean move! Just accept it and move on!”

Strangler gets to his feet, and slides out of the ring before quickly returning with the chair used earlier on Nekura. Strangler says something to Stryke, who picks up Thoth. Strangler gets into Thoth’s face, who is still being supported by Stryke, screaming at the Balancer. The crowd, booing like crazy, gets even louder as Strangler slams the chair into Thoth’s skull, dropping the Clannie to the mat. Strangler then heads toward Spider as Stryke slides out of the ring to grab his own chair. Suddenly, as Strangler begins to raise his chair over Spider, the crowd explodes as two men come running down the ramp.

“BR, it’s MacPhisto and Raynor! They’re coming to help the Clan!”

Strangler turns and notices the Carnival members, causing him to quickly drop the chair and slide out of the ring in record speed. Stryke and Strangler hold their distance as MacPhisto and Raynor slide into the ring, and go to Thoth and Nekura to check on them. As the Carnival members check on the Clan members, Strangler and Stryke slink up the ramp, screaming at all four men in the ring.

“Well, the Magnificent Seven may have been chased off here, but they score an impressive upset victory over the team of Thoth and Spider Nekura! What more lies ahead in this saga?”

“Probably a lot more victories for Chris Wilson and his Magnificent Seven, Stevens! The Carnival and Clan don’t stand a chance against the Magnificent Seven!”

“Well, until Smarkdown, alongside Bobby Riley, I’m Grand Slam Mark Stevens! Goodnight!”

As the credits are displayed, a final shot of MacPhisto, Raynor, Nekura, and Thoth is shown before nothing but black remains.

July 13, 2002

SINGLES MATCH

Danny Williams vs. Johnny Rotten

- Williams avoids behind the pink slip...

SINGLES MATCH

El Luchadore Magnifico vs. “TNT” Taylor Nicholas Thompson

- That damn, dirty Flesher cost Magnifico the match! Can't the Clan and Carnival just get along?

TAG TEAM MATCH

Ash Ketchum & Erek Taylor vs. Tom Flesher & Fallout

- The Clan with the win.

NO-DQ SINGLES MATCH

Tod deKindes vs. Longdogger Pete

- Pete gets a hard fought victory, but Tod wants a re-match darn it.

CAGE MATCH FOR THE HARDCORE TITLE

- Dawg manages to retain the title with some help from Lerrin Breggin (or whatever)...

TAG TEAM MATCH

Spider Nekura & Thoth vs. The Boston Strangler & Stryke

- The Magnificent 7 snag the victory...

SWF Storm (July 12/2002)

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