SWF Storm - Friday, July 19th

July 20, 2002

The camera cuts to the backstage area where Ben Hardy is standing by with “The Prophet” Tyler McClelland…

“So, Tyler, I’d like to ask you the one question everyb-“ Hardy is interrupted.

“Shut the fuck up, Ben. I’ve got something important to say tonight…” Tyler pushes Hardy aside.

Tyler’s eyes, bloodshot due to a lack of sleep, stare down at the ground as he paces with the microphone in his hands… then, he begins.

“A tragedy…”

Tyler smirks painfully…

“A tragedy is something that can truly destroy a person’s psyche. An event that just totally shocks and depresses the people it effects. Something of such a great magnitude that it effects the person for the rest of their life… On Friday… July 12th, 2002… my personal tragedy came to bear.”

Tyler sighs deeply…

“I will try to stay on topic, though.”

He looks up, then begins pacing around the backstage area again…

“Tragedies are something that most people don’t even wish to think about. Every logical person has that tiny fear in their gut that something… just possibly… could go horribly, horribly wrong. This is why most parents are so anal about curfews and such… that’s why some folks no longer fly (if they did before) on airplanes after September 11th, 2001. They’re afraid of such a huge, incapacitating experience happening to them or their families… they don’t take those risks any more. They figure it’s simply not worth it… the positives don’t outweigh the possible negatives.”

The crowd outside, in the audience section, display little or no reaction to this narrative…

“While it is my personal theory that these risks are nearly always worth taking, I didn’t have something like this happen to me before. I probably never will again, in fact. This was a unique situation for which I will never forgive myself. However, that doesn’t stop me from reacting the way I wish.”

Tyler grimaces visibly, his pain actually seeping through the camera lens…

“People react in the face of tragedy in many different ways. Some folks go into a shell and never recover; others use such a tragedy as motivation. They are able to come together as they hoped they would and they improve upon themselves in such a way. However, the folks that go into a shell… unfortunately, the shell completely envelops them and their lives are never the same… A prime example of this type of reaction is the way the Minnesota Vikings reacted after the death of offensive tackle Korey Stringer before the 2001 season. They folded and their team, marred by inconsistency and a seeming lack of motivation, ended up out of the playoffs for the first time in years. This is a sports example, but I’m sure everyone can think of examples from their everyday lives.”

Tyler now pauses as the crowd starts to murmur a bit… he waits for them to die down, then starts again.

“How many folks have had grandparents that simply pack it away after their spouse finally dies? It’s incredibly sad to see, but it happens quite a bit. When their life’s companion passes away, some folks seem to lose the will to live and just die. They show flashes of life occasionally, they put on a happy face to the outside occasionally, but the pain and suffering they have experienced is too much for them to bear. So, they stop taking care of themselves… they cut themselves off from the outside world… and they just die.”

The murmurs get a bit louder now, the crowd starting to identify with this ‘Prophet’.

“I mentioned the death of a spouse for a reason… and unfortunately, I won’t be able to stay on topic for any longer. In the hierarchy of stressors accepted by psychologists, the top two are the loss of a spouse and the loss of a child. I experienced both of these last week… and it was probably the worst day of my life. To tell you the truth, the happiest moment I could have right now would happen if I were to be able to go see them… go be with my family. However, it’s not meant to be quite yet… I’ve still got a life to live and a career to follow. My idea right now… my idea is to share my pain with every damn person out there… There is nothing that can comfort me right now. My old comfort was brought upon by a quiet night with my wife… a tender, loving moment with the woman who has left me speechless for four years now. I don’t have that anymore… I never will have that again.”

A tear drops down from Tyler’s face as the audiences murmurs drop to dead silence…

“In situations like this, the advice given to the people involved is usually to move on and start a new life… but, if you ask me, that’s just fuckin’ giving up. If you just forget what happened… if you just try to move on with your life… get a new woman to adore… in my opinion, you should just go take a piss on the graves… the memories of the loved ones you lost. What massive disrespect… “

Tyler’s blue eyes light up with a fire from within…

“However, right now I know that Laura is looking down on me right now, wanting me to go on… not wishing me any more pain. While that simply isn’t possible… it can’t be possible… I can do one thing… I can avenge her death the way I want… as I said, I will make everyone feel my pain. Laura deserved more from me… she deserved the world and I neglected her. Well, my dear, no longer… it won’t be like that anymore. No, everything I do will be for you… with you in mind. Everyone will pay… I don’t give a fuck if they didn’t do anything in the first place. They can’t imagine what I’m going through… how horrible I feel… and no amount of sympathy they may give can change that.”

Tyler’s face darkens, his eyes close…

“I will go on… I won’t stay here and die… I won’t go into a shell…”

He smiles a bit, almost mockingly, and then continues.

“I tell myself these things… but the only way to make sure of it is to remain productive. I won’t take any time off yet… I will not give up. Heh, maybe this is my way to move on. Maybe this is the way I can make my life mean something… maybe when I go to see Laura, it won’t be with my head down. I’ll go down the way I want to go down… and I will go down in a blaze of glory. Everything from now on is for you, Laura. I love you.”

The crowd remains in dead silence as Tyler gives a determined look…

“I will not die… I will not falter… I will not pack it in…”

His head drops…

“…but I will cry… I will mourn… ”

Then, with a malicious, vengeful look on his face, he stares directly into the camera…

”And I will make everyone feel my pain…”

With that, Tyler stops speaking… drops the microphone… and leaves.

Ben Hardy stands, speechless, as “Pushing Me Away” by Linkin Park kicks up over the loudspeaker… and the screen…

July 20, 2002

BOOM!

Insanely loud pyro erupts all along the stage and ring, whipping the crowd into a frenzy following that heartfelt McClelland interview. Tens of thousands of fans are on their feet, screaming at the tops of their lungs and holding up their many various signs, as the SWF Storm blares through the arena!

“FRIDAY NIGHT!!! IT’S SWF STORM COMING TO YOU LIVE FROM THE HEART OF TOBACCO COUNTRY!!! THE GREENSBORO COLISEUM IS ROCKING TONIGHT AS WE ARE JUST OVER ONE WEEK AWAY FROM SWF GROUND ZERO!!!”

After panning the crowd, the camera focus sets on our favorite commentary team since NTD and Curry, “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley. As the shot settles on the announce position, the fans continue to cheer the soon-to-come action from the SWF…those fans behind the announce tables cheering especially loud.

(Stevens) – Alongside Bobby Riley, I’m “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens, and what an event we’ve got tonight!! Just listen to his place…these SWF fans are rabid tonight, and we’re definitely going to deliver the goods tonight, right Bobby?

(Riley) – Damn right Mark…oh, what a show we have tonight!! Our huge main event should see new tag team champions from the Magnificent 7…in the form of “TNT” Taylor Nicholas Thompson and Frost…not to mention a huge match up for the #1 contendership to Edwin’s world title between Thoth and The Boston Strangler!!

(Steven) – OH yeah…that match should be huge…especially with the wildcard, Erek Taylor, standing in at referee! He and Strangler look to be heading for a clash at Ground Zero, and there’s certainly on love lost between those two…so Taylor could have a serious impact on that match!

(Riley) – Well, if he calls it down the middle, we could see Strangler in a position to win that title off of Edwin after the PPV.

(Stevens) – Maybe…we’ll just have to wait and see…We’ve got an amazing show for you folks…

July 20, 2002

The Card

Singles Match

“Deathwish” Danny Williams vs. Z

- On Smarkdown, during an attack on the Midnight Carnival, Danny Williams wouldn’t let up on poor little Z. Despite his wounds, Z demanded to have Williams on Storm, but will Z’s huge heart set his tiny body up for a vicious beatdown by the hands of “Deathwish”, or will the little bugger run circles around the McCelland Protégé?

Tag Team Match

Jay Dawg & Lerrin Breggan vs. Ced Ordonez & Mercury

- Jay Dawg and the newcomer Breggan have been begging Stubby for a tag match together so they can show off their tag skills. Finally, Stubby has granted the wish of his compadres and are feeding them Mercury and Ced Ordonez, two people who have fought each other in the past. Can Mercury and Ordonez rally together to halt the JD/Breggan train before it even leaves the station, or will they simply serve as the first victims in the tag career of the new Creative Control team?

No-DQ Singles Match

Longdogger Pete vs. Tod deKindes

- On last week’s Storm, the veteran Pete taught deKindes a very valuable lesson in humility by defeating him. Pete has been nothing but impressed with Tod’s talent, so when deKindes requested a rematch for this Friday, Pete eagerly accepted. The stakes are a bit higher this time, as a win by deKindes means he becomes the 4th member of the elite X Force 9.

Singles Match

Spider Nekura vs. El Luchadore Magnifico

- ELM seems to be on a collision course with the Clan’s Tom Flesher at the PPV, but first, he has to battle the stable’s leader, Spider Nekura. What effect will this match have on the delicate relationship between the Carnival and the Clan, and how will Magnifico feel about Spider kicking Edwin and leaving him to the wolves on Smarkdown?

#1 Contendership to the SWF World Heavyweight Title

Thoth vs. The Boston Strangler

Special Referee: Erek Taylor

- Thoth has been rolling as of late, winning match after match. Strangler has also been kicking ass as of late, nearly defeating both Spider and Edwin on Smarkdown. Strangler looks to be targeting Erek Taylor and the ICTV championship for the PPV, but this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. However, with his nemesis Taylor overseeing the action, will Strangler be able to focus enough to capitalize and get a shot at the world title. The winner of this match will face world champion, Edwin MacPhisto after Ground Zero for the richest prize in the game. Knowing the delicate nature of his relationship with Edwin, does Thoth want the pressure of having to face him for the title over his head, or is the change at the world title just too great to pass up? No matter what, this should be crazy fun.

MAIN EVENT

Tag Team Titles Match

Midnight Carnival (Edwin MacPhisto & Chris Raynor) vs. Magnificent 7 (“TNT” Taylor Nicholas Thompson & Frost)

- On Storm last week, Edwin and Raynor issued an open challenge to the Magnificent 7, to produce a formidably team to take them on for the tag titles. On Smarkdown, the team of TNT and Frost were named as M7’s representatives. However, after this announcement, M7 proceeded to beat the holy hell out of the Carnival for the umpteenth time. Later on the show, Edwin made the decree that playtime is over for the SWF’s most outrageous group. Will Edwin’s attempt to rally the troops uplift his team into retaining the tag titles, or is the raw talent of M7 just too much for the SWF World Champion and the 4-time tag team champion?

July 20, 2002

The house lights go off, covering the arena in a blanket of darkness, aside from a few exit signs of course. Suddenly their is explosions everywhere, as pyro effects and fireworks light up the dark arena. The fans stop their chattering, and start screaming wildy as the show finally begins.

Stevens: Hello fans, and welcome to SWF Storm! Tonight we have lots of great action coming up, but right now tonight's opening match is already starting. So take it away Funyon!

Funyon: The following match is scheduled for one fall, and has a fifteen minute time limit. Introducing first, he hails from Lousiville, Kentucky and weighs in at 238 pounds......DANNY WILLIAMSSSSS!

The rhythmic guitar blasts of Dillinger Escape Plan's "Calculating Infinity" blasts over the loud speaker. The smarktron simply says Danny Williams in white letters and follows that with highlights of Danny's career. Danny emerges from the lockerroom, and steps out on to the platform. His manger, The Prophet, follows behind him, lurching in the shadows. Danny slowly walks to the ring, with his head down in deep thought about his up coming match. Danny uses the steps to properly enter the ring, and simply warms up once inside.

Funyon: And his opponent, hailing from Trenton, New Jersey, weighing in at 229 pounds.........Zzzzzzzzzzzz!

The cheery pop sounds of Faith No More's 'Epic' funk over the stereo system, as the crowd electrifies with cheers! A single spotlight shines down on the ramp, as Z throws aside the curtain, shuffling his way down the ramp. The crowd bursts into laughter, Z spins on his heel, banging off a quick salute to the crowd, before rolling under the bottom rope. He paces around the ring, taking a moment to gab with a few rowdy fans, before curling up in a corner.

Riley: I wonder what Z did to piss off Stubby. Williams is going to murder that scrawny little loser.

Stevens: Z actually demanded this match after the beat down last Monday.

Riley: Well once again Z proves that he isn't the brightest crayon in the box.

Stevens: Well Z has a better chance of winning than you think. Both these wrestlers are highly depended on the success of their strikes. And Z's Arm Grenade and Blizzard of Oz is as equally dangerous as Williams' Elbows.

Riley: Bah, Z won't get a chance to land either of them. There's going to be only two hits, Williams hits Z, and Z hits the mat.

Stevens: Well will see about that.

DING! DING! DING! Williams and Z step out of their corners, and meet in the center of the ring. Williams looks for the grapple, but Z drops to one knee, and rams his fist into Williams' nuts! Williams' eyes bulge out of his head, he tries to scream but the pain is to intense. All Williams can spit out is a slight grunt, before crumbling to the mat. The crowd actually applauds Z's dirty tactics. Kivell isn't so kind, he signals to stop the clock and gives Z a warning. But the damage has already been done. Williams rolls out of the ring, clutching his family jewels , and hobbles around trying to walk off the pain.

Riley: I can't believe Kivell is going to let this match continue! Z should automatically be D.Q.ed!

Stevens: Maybe Kivell felt the low blow was accidental.

The crowd chuckles, as Z grabs his nads and dances around to mock Danny's hobbling on the outside. Williams turns red with anger, and anxiously rolls back in the ring. Z lunges at Williams, but Kivell steps in the way and orders Z to go back to his corner. Kivell asks Williams if he can go on, and Williams responds with a nod. Kivell signals for the time keeper to start the clock back up.

Z steps out of his corner, and meets Williams in the center of the ring. The two wrestlers cautiously circle each other a few times, before locking up in a collar elbow tie up. Z quickly breaks the grapple, and pops Williams with an elbow! Williams shakes off the blow and fires an elbow of his own! Z blocks it, and counters with a kick to Williams' nads! Williams drops to his knees, and starts coughing like he's going to puke. Kivell calls for time and screams at Z "Do it again, and I'll disqualify your ass!". Z just shrugs his shoulders, while the crowd gives a standing ovation.

Riley: What is wrong with these North Carolina hicks in the audience. You have to be one sick puppy to cheer a man getting get kicked in the balls.

Kivell shoves Z back to his corner, to allow Williams some to time to recover. Kivell once again asks Williams if he wants to go on, and once again Williams nods. Clutching his lower abdomen, Williams slowly stands up on shaky legs. Kivell gives the O.K. to the time keeper, and the match continues.

Barely able to walk, Williams slowly staggers to the center of the ring like a blind beggar. Z prances out of his corner with his arm drawn back for an Arm Grenade! But Williams drops to one knee, and uppercuts Z right in the balls as he steps in! Z lets out a high pitches shriek, and flops to the mat. Williams smirks down at Z as he rolls around on the mat in agony. After the retaliation, a few claps can be heard in the audience. Kivell doesn't call for time, and instead mumbles down to Z "Serves you right." This manages to draw some "boos" from the crowd.

Stevens: O.K, I know Z brought this on himself, but Kivell should at least be fair and give him an opportunity to recover. What was that you said, about Williams being automatically D.Q.ed if he hit Z low?

Riley: I stand corrected, excellent call from Kivell. Z did bring that on himself, and If I was Williams I'd kick him in the nuts again.

Still a little soar from the low blows, Williams gingerly bends down and traps Z in a front facelock. Williams drapes Z's arm over his shoulder, grabs a handful of his tights, and pulls him up to his feet. Williams starts taking deep breaths to obviously prepare for a lift. The crowd "Ohs", knowing from past experience that Williams doesn't attempt Vertical Suplexes.

Stevens: Williams appears to be setting Z up for a Vertical Suplex.

Riley: You idiot, Have you ever watched a Deathwish match? Williams doesn't do Vertical Suplexes. He's going for the BRAINBUSTER!

Stevens: Dear God No! Williams sheer drop variation of the brainbuster is one of the most dangerous moves in the federation. The last time he used it, he gave Sydney Sky a concussion and nearly broke her neck.

Williams cries "IEEEE!" and hoists Z up into the air! But Z escapes Williams' grasp, and lands on his feet behind him. Williams spins around, and Z fires the Arm Grenade! Williams ducks and fires the Rolling Elbow! Z blocks it and fires another Arm Grenade! That connects right across Williams' face! THUMP! Sweat particles fly into the sky as Williams drops to the mat like he was decapitated by a cannon. The crowd gives a huge pop for the first successful Arm Grenade of the night. Z quickly covers Williams with a lateral press.

ONE!

TWO!

NO! Williams kicks out! Z quickly traps Williams in a reverse chinlock as he sits up. Z squeezes Williams head with all the power his boney arms can muster. A camera close up reveals some swelling underneath Williams' left eye, an obvious result of the Arm Grenade. It doesn't take but a few seconds for Williams' to power his way back up to a vertical base. Z adjusts the chinlock to a side headlock to keep Williams under control. Williams starts walking Z to the ropes, but Z wisely cuts him off with some fancy footwork. Suddenly Williams locks his arms around Z's waist and lifts him a few inches off the mat!

Riley: BACKDROP DRIVERAHH!

Z lets out a terrified cry, and desperately locks his leg underneath Williams' legs to stop the lift.

Stevens: NO! Z BLOCKED IT!

Z briefly releases the headlock and drives a couple elbows into Williams neck to kill the comeback attempt. Z tightly reapplies the headlock, but Williams lifts him up again!

Riley: WILLIAMS IS GOING FOR IT AGAIN!

Once again, Z manages to block the lift with his leg. Z manages to replant his feet back on the earth, and start inching his way to the ropes. Z literally drags Williams to the ropes with the side headlock. Once at the ropes, Z release the headlock and wraps his arms around the ropes and waits for Kivell.

Stevens: Brilliant strategy from Williams. He couldn't escape the headlock, so he gave Z a choice: release the move yourself, or risk being dropped on your head.

Riley: And to the surprise of everyone Z actually makes the smartest choice. .

Kivell steps in and orders the two to break it up. Z raises his arms in the air to show that he isn't the one holding on, it's Williams who has his arms locked tightly around Z's waist. Kivell takes notice and starts counting. Hearing the count, Williams slowly releases Z and holds his arms in the air to show he wants to break cleanly.

As soon as Kivell steps out of the way, Williams gives Z a quick but hard chop across the chest! SMACK! "WOOOOO!" Williams draws back his hand, and slaps Z's chest with another chop! SMACK! "WOOOOOO!" Z nearly goes over the top rope from the strike, but Williams catches him by his wrist and shoots him across the ring with an Irishwhip! Z bounces off the ropes, and comes charging back at Williams. Williams also bounces off the ropes, and hits Z in the center of the ring with a brutal Hooking Clothesline! Z's legs go so far out from underneath him, that for a few seconds he is almost completely horizontal in mid air. Z hits the mat with a loud thump, and Williams covers him with a lateral press.

ONE!

TWO!

Z escapes with a strong kick out! Williams grabs a handful of Z's hair and jerks him up to his feet. Suddenly Z knocks Williams' arms off, and blasts him with a nasty Arm Grenade out of nowhere! The crowd responds with a big pop. Instead of going for the pin, Z takes a few steps back and gets in a superkick stance! Williams slowly staggers to his feet, unable to see from his left eye which is now completely swollen shut. Z takes a step in and fires the Blizzard of Oz! But Williams blocks it, and smashes his jaw with the Rolling Elbow! CRACK! Z staggers around in a daze, before collapsing face first to the mat. Williams rolls Z' carcass over, and hooks his leg for the pin.

ONE!

TWO!

TH

Z kicks out but not as strong as before! Williams stands up and pulls Z up by his tights. Z can barely stand up on his own, and Williams traps in a back waistlock to hold him up. Williams bends his knees, and tosses Z high overhead with the release German Suplex!

Stevens: DANGEROUS GERMAN!

Riley: Break his neck, Williams!

The top of Z's head gets closer and closer to the mat, but his boots hit first. Z somehow lands safely on his feet!

Riley: What the hell!

Stevens: Williams over threw him, Z's trademark luck comes through once again!.

While resting with his hands on his knees, Williams hears the crowd pop. Williams spins around to see Z charging at him with his arm drawn back for the Arm Grenade! Williams ducks, and catches Z in another back waistlock! Williams quickly tosses Z overhead without even bending his knees!

Stevens: DANGEROUS GERMANNNNN!

Z lands on his knees, and jumps back to his feet!

Riley: NO! Not again!

Stevens: And Z is saved by lady luck once more!

Williams signals "it's all over", only to spin around and see Z charging at him yet again. This time Z nails Williams right in the throat with a running Arm Grenade! SMACK! Williams does a complete 360 spin before landing on the mat.

Stevens: ARMGRENADEEEEE! This could be it!

Z doesn't attempt the pin, and instead takes a few steps back and gets in his superkick stance yet again.

Stevens: Z is going to try to finish him with the Blizzard of OZ!

The crowd feels it this time, and starts stomping their feet in unison. Williams stumbles to his feet, and Z fires the Blizzard of Oz! But Williams manages to raise his arms up and block it in the nick of time! The force of the blow still knocks the wobbly Williams into the ropes. Suddenly, Williams shoots off the ropes, and spins around for the Rolling Elbow! But Z blasts him with an Arm Grenade, before he can get it off! SMACK!

Stevens: Z BEAT HIM TO THE PUNCH! ARM GRENADEEEE!

Williams hits the mat hard, and Z gets right back in his superkick stance. Z encourages the crowd to be louder, and they respond by doing just that.

Stevens: Z determined as ever, is going for the Blizzard of Oz for the third time tonight. He's not gonna stop until Williams sings some sweet chin music.

Riley: Don't get up Williams, he's going to kick you! Oh, I can't watch.

After a few moments Williams blindly stumbles to his feet, only to get nailed right in the eye with the Superkick! SMACK!

Stevens: HE HIT! HE HIT! Z FINALLY NAILS THE BLIZZARD OF OZ! IT'S ALL OVER!

Riley: NOOOOOOO! It's not fair! This an outrage!

The crowd explodes having finally seen Z's signature kick. Z falls on Williams and hooks both his legs for the pin. The crowd screams along with Kivell.

ONE!

TWO!

Riley: Damn you Williams! Damn you for letting that loser beat you!

THRE

NO! Williams gets his shoulder up!

Riley: Ha! I knew he was going to kick out the whole time.

Z hops to his feet, and signals "Its time for the Jersey Turnpike!" The crowd blows the roof off the building with a monstrous pop.

Stevens: Z'S GOING FOR THE JERSEY TURNPIKE!

Riley: All dammit! Williams is finished!

Z traps Williams in a standing head scissors, and pulls him up by his tights. Z carefully hooks both of Williams' arms in a double underhook. Z pauses and takes a few deep breaths. Suddenly, Z bends his knees and uses all the power of his thin frame to lift Williams off the mat. Z only gets Williams' boots about a foot off the mat, before aborting the lift. Z starts hyperventilating, sucking up all the air he can for another lift attempt. The crowd encourages Z, by stomping their feet and chanting "Z! Z! Z!". Huge veins bulge out of Z' neck as he cries "GAAHHHHHH!", and lifts Williams off the mat. But once again Z only gets Williams about a foot off the mat, before having to abort the lift.

Riley: Z can't lift him! The pencil neck geek isn't strong enough.

Stevnes: Or maybe Williams isn't weak enough.

With a frustrated look on his face, Z releases Williams from the double underhook and scoop slams him near the center of the ring! The fans eagerly stand on their feet with cameras in hand.

Stevens: It looks like Z is setting Williams up for the SHOTGUN MOONSAULT!

Z steps over Williams, and starts climbing the turnbuckles of the nearest corner. The fans know what this means, and respond by making the biggest noise of the night. Everyone is either standing and screaming, or at least stomping their feet. Suddenly Williams springs to his feet, and starts marching to the corner that Z is climbing! Z is unaware of the danger he's in, and casually gets in position for the Shotgun Moonsault. The crowd shouts warnings, but Z doesn't pay attention. Just as Williams reaches the corner, Z back flips off the turnbuckle for the Moonsault! But he lands on his feet right behind Williams, and gets in his super kick stance!

Stevens: Z FAKED THE MOONSAULT!

Riley: Whatever you do don't turn around, Danny!

A confused Williams spins around to see Z somehow standing behind him as if he magically appeared there. Before Williams can react, Z fires the Blizzard of Oz right in his face!

Stevens: BLIZZARD OF OZzzzzzzzzz!

But Williams catches Z's boot before it connects, spins him around, and in one fluid motion tucks his head underneath Z's armpit! Z lets out a high girlish scream, as Williams lifts him off the mat with a side waistlock!

Riley: NO, WILLIAMS BLOCKED IT! BACKDROP DRIVAHHHHH!

Williams falls back, and plants the back of Z's head into the BOTTOM TURNBUCKLE! THUMP! The crowd goes dead silent at the disgusting sight of Z's head bouncing off the bottom turnbuckle. Kivell turns away with a look of horror on his face.

Sevens: OH MY GOD! Z's head landed right on the bottom turnbuckle! He may have a broken neck!

Riley: One can only hope.

Williams gets up, and drags Z's lifeless corpse a few feet out of the corner by one leg. Once Z's limbs clear the ropes, Williams collapses on him for the exhausted pin attempt.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

NO! Z somehow gets a shoulder up at the last possible microsecond! The dead crowd comes back to life with an explosion of cheers and whistles.

Stevens: HE GOT HIS SHOULDER UP! What heart and determination, Z is showing here tonight.

Riley: So what! He's finished, there's no way in hell Z can make a comeback.

The sound of feet stomping resembling machine gun fire feels the arena, which is quickly followed by a massive "Z! Z! Z!" chant. Williams sits up on his knees with a frustrated look on his face. Realizing he hasn't done enough to win, Williams takes a couple deep breaths and climbs back to his feet. Williams grabs a handful of Z's long sweaty hair, and pulls him to his feet. But Z knocks his hands off, and swings an Arm Grenade!

Stevens: It's not over yet, Z's fighting back!

But the strike has zero force behind it, and Z collapses down to his hands and knees. The excited crowd goes dead silent, once again. Williams is completely unfazed by the lariat, but he does seem a bit unnerved at the thought that Z can even attempt to fight back.

Riley: Trust me Stevens, it's over.

Williams calmly steps behind Z, and pulls him up by his tights. Williams tightly locks his arms around Z's waist, to keep his rubbery legs upright on the mat. Williams bends his knees, and tosses Z high overhead with the release German Suplex! Z lands right on the top of his head, but bounces back on his feet! With dead legs, Z slowly staggers towards Williams with his arm extended for an Arm Grenade!

Stevens: He's out on his feet! For the love god, stop the match Kivell!

Not feeling threatened, Williams lets Z step up and fire. Z takes a wild swing, but his arm just bounces off Williams' chest. Williams grabs a handful of Z's hair with his left hand to hold him up, and starts driving elbows into Z's temple and jaw with his right arm to start the Elbow Combo of Doom! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Z's legs buckle but before drops, Williams catches him with a front facelock. Williams tosses Z's limp arm over his shoulder, and grabs a handful of his tights.

Riley: THE BRAINBUSETR! WILLIAMS IS GOING TO GIVE HIM THE BRAINBUSTER!

Stevens: OH MY GOD! Enough is enough, Williams already has the match won, this is just sadistic! He's playing with a man's life, dammit! Somebody needs to stop this, NOW!

Even Kivell tires to talk some sense into Williams, literally begging him not to use the move. But Kivell's pleads are in vain. "IEEEEEE"cries Williams as he hoists Z off the mat, and holds him upside down. Williams falls back, and drives the top of Z's head into the mat with the Brainbuster! Z's body sickly folds up upon impact, and he flops on his belly, making it look more like he took a Implant DDT than a Brainbuster.

Riley: BRAINBUSTAHHHH! Did you see that, he folded Z up like a sheet!

Stevens: Your sick! The man's career could be over. Williams is not a wrestler, he's a sadist!

The crowd shows their shock with complete silence, as Williams casually rolls Z's carcass over, and covers him for the pin. Kivell's count can clearly be heard in the quiet arena.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Kivell signals it's over, and calls for the bell.

DING! DING! DING!

Funyon: The winner of the match, at 12 minutes and 48 seconds, DANNY WILLIAMSSSssssssssss!

The crowd brings a storm of "boos" down on Williams as he victoriously raises his arms in the air. The Prophet rushes into the ring, and demands that some doctors look at Danny's eye, which is completely swollen shut. Some medics have already gone to work on Z, massaging his neck and trying to revive him. After getting an ice pack, Danny and Prophet exit the ring, but not without pausing to point and laugh at Z.

Stevens: Like him or not Danny has earned an impressive victory, and were sure to see more of him in the future.

Riley: Your damn right. That man is going to be a champion someday.

July 20, 2002

The camera fades in on Ben Hardy standing in the locker room area with a smiling TNT and a grim Frost. The two are already in their wrestling togs and visually crackling with energy for their big upcoming tag team match. Frost stands silently with his arms across his chest while TNT bops and grooves to the music in his head.

Hardy: “You two have the biggest match of your lives tonight against Edwin MacPhisto and Chris Raynor for the SWF tag team titles. Some might say that this team is too young and inexperienced, how would you answer them?”

TNT: “Young and inexperienced? I haven’t heard that since I had Suzie Watkins in the back of my El Camino on prom night. And Frosty here, (points a thumb at his partner) probably hasn’t heard that since last week.”

Frost glowers down at TNT and he quickly wipes the smirk off of his face to turn serious.

TNT: “The point is, as Frost said a few weeks ago, we did not choose the SWF they chose us. They want to see what talent we have; we’re going to show them. Chris Wilson is the only person in this whole damn fed that has shown us any respect and we’re going to repay him tonight by bringing the gold home to the Mag 7. We beat the Carnies senseless on Smarkdown as a tune-up and then destroyed Erek Taylor, because we were bored and the cable was out.”

Hardy: “Frost, to say that you are not known as a tag team technician would be putting it lightly. Why join up with TNT?”

Frost stares down at Hardy like he was the stupidest man on Earth.

Frost: “Anyone will do what is in their own best interests. I am no different. Joining the most elite stable in the SWF on the ground floor was more than logical. Wilson asking me to wrench the tag titles out of the hands of those two hooligans was an honor to me and makes the most sense…”

TNT: “And having me as his partner was the smartest move of all. When Chilly Chilly Bang Bang gets our hands on…”

Frost: (interrupting confused) “What?”

TNT: “Chilly Chilly Bang Bang, that’s our tag team name. I was sure you’d like it.”

Without a word, Frost shoots out a meaty right hook aimed straight for TNT’s face. He ducks and the fist goes crunching into Ben’s face, sending him flying out of the frame and back into the stack of lockers. The microphone pops out of Hardy’s hand into the air and TNT rises back up and grabs the mic without missing a beat.

TNT: “And that’s just a sample of what we are going to do to the Midnight Carnival.”

Frost: (pointing menacingly into the camera) Beware the Touch of Frost or YOU will faces the consequences of an Early Winter.”

TNT drops the mic and the pair walks out of frame as the camera fades.

TNT: (trailing off) “Man, we need to find a better catch phrase you…”

July 20, 2002

SWF Storm comes back from commercial break to a huge blast of cheers. The camera pans around the arena to show the fans clapping and screaming for more action from the superstars here tonight. Signs can be seen, including, “Carnival RULZ” and “Magnificent Waste!”

Stevens: “Welcome back to SWF Storm everyone. What a show we have for you tonight!”

Riley: “You’re correct! An action packed show that had a good match to lead us off. Danny Williams and Z had a great match that got the crowd going, and our next bout should be another good one.”

Stevens: “Wow, a positive comment from you Riley, I am truly surprised.”

Riley: “I seem to be in a good mood tonight, for reasons unknown…” Just as Riley finishes his sentence a beautiful lady sitting right behind the answers screams out his name and some other provocative comments. “Ohh yeah, that’s why!”

Stevens: “Right. Well about our next match, it should definitely be one to remember. We have Mercury and Ced Ordonez taking on Creative Control in a tag match which could solidify Jamie Drazon’s claims, or it could bring them crashing down into obscurity.”

Riley: “Mercury and Ced have no chance in this match. After Jay Dawg handily defeated Ash in the hide and seek match, he has to be taken semi-seriously. But in my opinion, the real ace in Creative Control’s hand is Lerrin Breggan. He had a brutal match with Xero, and showed us exactly why he was brought straight into the SWF. He has power, durability, and a damn nice attitude!”

Stevens: “What are you talking about Riley?! Granted, he is strong and he can take a beating, but his arrogance in the ring is tremendous. And not in a good way. If Creative Control wants to take the victory here, Jay Dawg MUST take control and lead his partner to victory. As much as I cringe to say it, Drazon has become a formidable force in the SWF with his hardcore title and is on a huge roll.”

Riley: “Hah, Jay Dawg couldn’t lead himself to the bathroom is Stubby and King weren’t there to guide him. Breggan is the new force in town, and I think he will be making a huge impact here.”

Stevens: “Believe what you like, but I definitely think that the veteran Mercury and his lightweight partner will get the duke here. Experience and attitude will get the better of Creative Control tonight, but you never can be quite so sure.”

Funyon enters the ring as the lights dim to nothingness. “...one last disguise...” As if the sky were opening, the stage explodes with light blue flashing in every which way as “Spy Hunter” by Project 86 emits it’s sounds through the system. Simultaneously, Mercury steps out from the back to an intimidating collective roar from the crowd. Clips from his matches of the past flash by on the Smarktron above him, and through them all the Regeneration-X symbol slowly strengthens in opacity as he peers out at the cheering crowd and responds with a charismatic smile and the X symbol, crossing his wrists a foot in front of his chest for a brief moment. Slipping his arms back down to his side, he slowly descends the entrance ramp as he makes the trek toward the ring.

Funyon: “This is a tag team match is scheduled for one fall. Regular rules are in effect. Introducing first, standing at 6 feet 2 inches, weighing in at 233 pounds, hailing from Los Angeles California, MERCURRRRRRRRRRY!!!!”

As he is half-way down the ramp, he begins to sprint the rest of the way to the ring, diving in under the ropes. Running to the opposite side of the ring as he gets to his feet, he leaps up onto the ropes and stands for a moment with his arms outstretched. As he begins to lose his balance, he hops back to his feet and awaits his partner while the lights come back on.

Funyon: “Introducing next, his tag team partner, standing at 5 feet 9 inches, weighing in at 210 pounds, hailing from Sacramento California, member of XF9, Ced Ordonez!!!!!!!!”

The arena lights dim slightly and "B4U ~glorious style~" pumps up the crowd. The lights around the entranceway flash in rhythm to the bass, the crowd chants "Ced" in unison and the curtains are pulled back by the emerging Ced. He surveys the crowd and slaps the hands of fans while making his way down the ramp. When he gets about midway to the ring he stops and poses as black, blue and silver streamers are thrown from the crowd. After the streamers subside, he enters the ring and begins talking strategy with his cohort for the night.

Stevens: “There they are, and they seem to be on the same page. Already talking strategy and opening lines of communication, something that is SO so important in tag team matches.”

Riley: “I wouldn’t know, I never tagged all that often.”

Stevens: “Because you had no friends…”

Riley: “Because I didn’t need friends!”

Funyon: “And introducing next, weighing in at a combined weight of 535 pounds, representing Creative Control, Jamie ‘Jay Dawg’ Drazon and Lerrin Breggan!!”

The crowd’s cheers automatically turn into boos as The Fight Song by Marilyn Manson begins to play. Jamie Drazon and Lerrin Breggan walk out from the back, side by side. Each man wears a very smug grin that attracts even more jeers from the people in attendance here tonight. The veteran of the team ignores their comments, keeping his eyelids closed, but Breggan flicks off the nearest section as they slowly make their way to the squared circle. Funyon exits the ring as both men hop onto the apron, still not exchanging a word.

Stevens: “Kind of lackluster entrance for your pick huh Riley?”

Riley: “You know what they say, those who need a flashy entrance are just making up for some other short-comings.”

Stevens: “Oh, so that’s why your entrance was so elaborate and drawn out. You must have had a lot to make up for, hell, you did! I should know, I’ve been in the ring with you.”

Riley: “Keep it coming like that Mark and I’ll make sure you and I have another go at it! I still owe you big man.”

Stevens: “Anytime you are ready, shrimparoonie!”

Riley: “I’ve kicked more ass then you’ve had birthdays… and believe me, that’s alotta birthdays!”

The bell rings as Mercury climbs out, leaving Ced to start for the face team. Jamie climbs through the ropes, making him the legal man as Ced bolts for his opponent. Jamie ducks under the ensuing Clothesline attempt, but gets rocked in the jaw by a nice Roundhouse from Ced. The smaller man pushes his advantage and tries to stomp Drazon, but the Hardcore Champion rolls out of harm’s way. Ordonez throws his arms into the air, getting a big pop from the crowd.

Jay Dawg doesn’t stand for this very long as he charges at the other man. Ced tries to dodge the attacker, but can’t quite make it as Drazon takes him down with a big Shoulder Ram. Jamie immediately pulls his prey up and whips him into Creative Control’s corner and grins. He nails a hard shot to the head, then another and another. Ced begins to waver but Drazon keeps him straight with a few more shots to the head as the crowd boos louder. Jamie smiles maliciously as he grabs hold of Ordonez’s throat and squeezes for all he is worth. The ref immediately runs over to break up the blatantly illegal hold, but the Hardcore Champion doesn’t relent.

Stevens: “What a cheap move by Jamie Drazon! He needs to remember that he can be disqualified in this match, unlike the normal Hardcore matches he has been fighting in lately.”

Riley: “Yeah I do agree, that is pretty low of Jay Dawg. Who knows, maybe he is dumb enough to get his team DQ’ed, I definitely wouldn’t put it past him.”

ONE… TWO… THREE… FOUR… and finally Jamie breaks the hold. The cruiserweight immediately crumbles to the ground as the ref yells at the offender. Drazon holds his arms up, like he hasn’t done anything wrong then looks over at his partner, who is ready and roaring to get into the fight. He tags in the massive individual, who instantaneously goes to work, stomping the smaller man into oblivion.

Stevens: “There you go Riley, Lerrin is in the match and he isn’t waiting for a second to get started!”

Lerrin grabs Ced by the neck and pulls him up as Mercury screams out from his corner. Breggan spins and heaves the smaller man nearly across the entire ring. Ordonez lands hard on his back and skids to a halt, barely out of Mercury’s range. Ced tries to inch closer to his partner, but the rookie is there to block the tag. He drags Ordonez to the middle of the ring and brings him to his feet. Lerrin slaps the smaller wrestler, teasing him to try and fight back, but gets no response.

The crowd boos louder, but Breggan disregards them for the moment and grabs Ced’s arm. He whips the face across the ring and into the ropes. Ordonez come back into Breggan’s arms going up and over for a deadly Powerslam from the strong man. Lerrin stays down, going for the pin attempt as the ref gets into position.

ONE…

TWO…

TH--- Kickout by Ced, but Mercury was right there to break up the count anyways.

Stevens: “Near fall there, poor Ced hasn’t even gotten a lick of offense in since the first attack.”

Riley: “What did I tell you?!”

The ref gets up and pushes livid Mercury out of the ring. Jamie takes advantage of the situation and jumps into the squared circle. Mercury tries to charge out of his corner, but the ref continues to hold him back as team Creative Control stomp Ordonez repeatedly. Finally Mercury realizes that he is just hurting the situation and slowly climbs out to the apron as Drazon claps his hands, simulating a tagging sound and instructs Lerrin to go back to their corner. Lerrin obeys the order just as the ref focuses his attention at the two active men once more.

Stevens: “These guys are trying to take every shortcut in the book!”

Riley: “I know! I wish I could manage them! They can be The Next Big Things!”

Stevens: “Sounds like a porno.”

JD drags Ced out of the corner, letting him remain unconscious on his feet. JD pulls his arms up, ready to box and jabs Ced with a left, a second jab knocks Ced back a step. JD pops Ced with a hard right, hard left, right, left, and Ced is ready to tip over. JD stops the use of the Filipino as a punching bag and turns around to meet Lerrin. He starts to shadow box with him, and the monster in Creative Control laughs, pretending to fear Jay Dawg’s boxing skills. JD turns around, measuring Ced for one final blow, swings hard with his right, but Ced ducks! He pulls JD into a rear waistlock, lifts high, and drops him hard with a backdrop suplex! Both men lay sprawled out on the mat, as Lerrin grabs his hair, squealing in worry for JD, while Mercury starts stomping his feet and clapping his hands, desperately trying to motivate Ced.

Stevens: “Mercury is itching to get inside! Creative Control have done a good job at isolating this tag team!”

JD starts to sit up, he looks over at Ced, who’s crawling toward Mercury. JD leaps at the rookie cruiserweight, grabbing him by the ankle. Ced gets to his feet, balancing on the one leg while bouncing toward Mercury. JD pulls harder on the leg, but the determination of Ced proves to be too much, as his final leap smacks hands with Mercury! The crowd goes insane as the Regenerate King enters the ring. JD remains on his knees, his mouth wide open in shock, begging for something to save him. Mercury raises his arms to an explosive pop just as JD gets to his feet. Merc runs full tilt, and flattens JD with a clothesline. The hardcore champ comes right back up again, only to be knocked right back down with an ultra stiff clothesline.

Stevens: “All hell is breaking loose!”

Riley: “Ah shaddup!”

Mercury pulls JD to his feet and launches him to the ropes, rebounding by JD and Merc leaps in the air, scissorlocking his legs around Jay Dawg’s neck, and flips backward, launching the hardcore champ with a hurricanrana! JD rolls to his feet, but upon full stance, he quickly loses his balance. Mercury rushes for him, locking his arm around the throat, he tows Jay Dawg to the mat with a neckbreaker drop! The crowd goes insane as Merc makes the cover.

ONE…

Lerrin enters the ring.

TWO…

Lerrin dives at Merc.

THR -- Merc breaks the pin and allows Lerrin to splash JD!

Stevens: “Ha! Nice sidestep by the veteran Mercury!”

Mercury gets to his feet and starts to taunt his larger foe. Lerrin looks what he did to JD and grabs his hair in shock, completely unaware of Mercury begging him to turn around. Upon turning around, he gets a close up of the heel of Mercury’s spinning leg blast him full force. The blast forces the mammoth Breggan to stumble back, trying to shake off the pain. Taking advantage, Mercury kicks Lerrin in the ribs, doubling him over and pulling him into a quick facelock. Mercury pulls the arm over the neck, and with amazing leg power, heaves Lerrin over with a snap suplex! JD gets back to his feet, as does Mercury…

Stevens: “Mercury has just hammered Lerrin Breggan! It goes to show you that experience will beat arrogance everytime!”

Lerrin Breggan sits up!

Riley: “You were saying, Mark!?”

Stevens: “Jesus! This guy is powerful!”

Mercury looks over to JD, who is smiling. Lerrin starts pulling his arm inward, just waiting for his prey to turn around. Mercury starts to pivot and Lerrin leaves his stance. The Regenerate King turns to see the shoulder of Lerrin Breggan dive for him. Thinking quickly, he leapfrogs high in the air, and Jay Dawg gapes in shock as he is plowed to the mat!

Stevens: “Lerrin Breggan just gored the holy hell out of Jay Dawg!”

Ced Ordonez enters the ring once more as both he and Mercury grab Breggan and throw him into the ropes with a double Irish whip. Lerrin ricochets off the cables to the awaiting Mercury and Ced, he throws out both his arms, but the duo scout it, catching one each and lifting high, flipping Creative Control’s monster with a double arm drag takedown! Lerrin bounces hard off the mat, but gets to his feet quickly. Mercury and Ced interlock arms and rush forward connecting their arms with Breggan’s neck, carrying him the short distance to the ropes and clothesline him over the top!

Stevens: “Nice teamwork by Ced and Mercury!”

Riley: “Bah! They are just getting lucky! Damn hos!”

Stevens: “Interesting to note that, Mercury and Ced have actually teamed before, while Lerrin and Jay Dawg have not!”

Mercury scans to his left, and points Ced to Jay Dawg. The cruiserweight nods as Merc points him to the turnbuckle. JD stumbles toward Mercury, holding his ribs in extreme amounts of pain. Mercury pulls JD into a hammerlock, and twists him into a facelock with his spare arm. The crowd erupts as he crashes down, driving the head of JD painfully into the mat while wrenching the shoulder. Ced climbs to the top rope and looks down at JD, making the brief measure of distance, he dives backward and drives his elbow into the chest of Jay Dawg! Ced rolls away as Mercury makes the cover to the delight of the ref and the fans.

ONE…

Stevens: “This has gotta be all!”

TWO…

THRE --- NO!! Jay Dawg gets his shoulder up in the nick of time.

Riley: “WUH HEE HEE HOO!!! Jay Dawg can never stay down!”

Stevens: “Ah bejeezus that was a close call!”

Breggan gets back to his feet, and jumps to the ring apron, but the ultra quick Ced Ordonez knocks him back to the floor. Once more, the luchadore hops to the top turnbuckle, getting the crowd to their feet and torpedoes himself straight for Lerrin Breggan with a suicide crossbody block! Ced crashes chest-to-chest with Lerrin Breggan and his body drags him to the mat.

Stevens: “Holy guacamole! Ced Ordonez took it to the air and the fans here love it!”

The crowd already in cheering in his team’s favor, Mercury pulls JD back to his feet. The hardcore champ fights back, rocking Mercury with a blow to the ribs, and turns around into a waistlock. Mercury tries to pry Jay Dawg’s grip away, but the relentless no selling bastard throws him high over his head with a German suplex! Mercury backflips out of the move with ease and lands on his feet moments later. The already roaring crowd cheers just a few decibels louder!

Stevens: “What athleticism by the always entertaining Mercury!”

Riley: “Bah, that was nothing in my day! We used to do backflips for breakfast!”

Stevens: “Where are exactly was YOUR day?”

Mercury trots behind JD and locks him into a full nelson. The audience continues their roaring pace as Mercury snaps backward, throwing Jay Dawg over his head and spiking him painfully into the mat with a dragon suplex! The Regenerate bridges for the pin.

ONE…

Stevens: “This is all!”

TWO…

THREE---NO!!! Jay Dawg somehow shifts his body enough to break the bride, just in the nick of time!

Riley: “That a boy, Jay Dawg!”

Mercury sits up in disbelief, looking down at Jay Dawg who seems like a kid who almost drowned, lying on his side, coughing out as the pain rises. Mercury slowly gets to his feet, looking around the crowd, scanning the audience. On a gaze, Mercury is the only one alive. On the outside, Ced is down by Breggan, and the answer with JD is quite obvious. He places his hands on his hips, listening as the crowd chants his name. “Mer-Cu-Ry!”

Stevens: “And the arena is loving every second of Mercury here!”

Riley: “Why!? What’s he done that I haven’t!?”

Stevens: “Ummm…”

Riley: “Heh heh, yeah suckah!”

JD finally arises to his feet, much to the delight of Mercury, who throws a kick out. Jay Dawg catches the foot with ease, and spins Mercury around. Turning the full 360, Mercury opens his eyes enough to see JD kick him in the stomach. Facelock and arm over the shoulder, JD lifts Merc high up for the vertical suplex, but the former ICTV champ squirms free, landing on his feet behind JD. He leaps into the air, locking his feet under Jay Dawg’s arms, and rolls backward with a clutch rollup.

ONE…

TWO…

THRE--- Jay Dawg pushes free!

Stevens: “Another real close call!”

On the outside, Ced throws a punch at Lerrin, but the larger man catches the fist, he pulls Ced in hard and flattens him with a shortarm clothesline!

Riley: “I love that guy!”

Stevens: “You love any guy!”

JD sits up, getting to his feet to meet Mercury. The Regenerate throws his arm out for a clothesline, but Jay Dawg ducks. Mercury spins around to see Jay Dawg’s leg fly through the air, and Mercury barely ducks the Thai Roundhouse kick! JD reacts by grabbing the fallen Mercury and pulls him into standing headscissors, but Mercury breaks free, locking JD in an inverted facelock, swings to the side while grabbing JD with his spare arm and drives him to the mat with the neckbreaker!

Stevens: “EVOLUTION!!! That came out of nowhere!”

Mercury hooks the leg as the spectators are still popping like balloons for the finisher.

ONE…

TWO…

THREE…

NO!! Lerrin Breggan breaks up the pinfall attempt at the last possible second with a stomp to the head! Before Mercury can react, Lerrin hits him with a stiff knee to the head. Breggan pulls Merc into a standing headscissors, and underhooks both of the arms. He powers Mercury up onto his shoulders, holding the backbreaker move with Mercury’s arms pinched, before throwing Mercury forward, sitting out and slamming Merc facefirst into the mat with Face the King!

Riley: “Whoo! That has gotta be all!”

Jay Dawg rolls over and makes the cover as Lerrin stands guard.

ONE…

TWO…

THREE…

NO!! Ced Ordonez recovers enough to break the pin.

Stevens: “Way to go, Ced!”

Lerrin grabs Ced by the back of the neck, but gets an ultra stiff elbow to the face. Lerrin takes a step back, shocked at the pain that caused. JD pushes himself off of Mercury, and just as Ced rushes for Lerrin, JD tackles him! The two men roll out of the ring, leaving Lerrin standing over Mercury, grinning ear to ear.

Riley: “He’s ripe for the kill, Lerrin!”

Lerrin grabs Merc by the t-shirt and pants, and pulls him into the air. While dangling in the air, Mercury pops Lerrin with a stiff fist to the chest. Barely fazing the larger man, Mercury is able to flip so he is over the shoulders, crucifying the arms of Lerrin and pulling him to the mat with a rollup. Mercury doesn’t make the pin though, just popping to his feet instead, lightly tapping his feet to the mat.

Stevens: “Nice move by Mercury, but Lerrin isn’t the legal man!”

On the outside, Ced has Jay Dawg over the guardrail, hammering him with a knife-edge chop! “WHOO!!” He pulls JD off the rail and Irish whips him, no, JD shifts the momentum and throws Ced hard into the stairs!

Riley: “Boomshakalaka!”

Stevens: “What do you think you are!?

Riley: “A 1993 video game!”

Mercury pulls Lerrin into an inverted facelock, much to the delight of the viewers. Suddenly, Lerrin spins free, getting his head by Mercury’s leg, he powers the regenerate up onto his shoulder for a torture rack and everyone watching fears the worst. JD suddenly enters the ring, running straight for Mercury.

Stevens: “He calls this move the royal decision!”

Breggan suddenly throws him forward with a powerbomb, as Jay Dawg leaps in the air, spinning over Mercury, he locks on an inverted facelock and as Lerrin powerbombs him down, JD smokes him with diving reverse DDT!

Riley: “That had to hurt!”

JD places his hands on Mercury’s chest, making the nonchalant cover.

ONE…

TWO…

THREE!!!

“The Fight Song” hits the speakers as the bell rings.

Riley: “That is all she wrote!”

Stevens: “An impressive debut by the tag team from Creative Control, to say the least!”

Funyon: “Ladies and gentleman! The winners of this contest via pinfall! Jay Dawg and Lerrin Breggan… CREATIVE CONTROL!!!”

Jay Dawg and Lerrin raise their arms, showing slight exhaustion but exit the ring regardless. Jay Dawg gets his hardcore title as the two men walk up the ramp.

Stevens: “That may be all for this match, but stay tuned… unless you are only a Jay Dawg fan and watch just to see him… fat chance of that happening though.”

Riley: “Shaddup. We get to see the Magnificent Seven become tag team champions tonight!”

July 20, 2002

The camera cuts backstage into a room lit by candles… the room, inhabited only by “The Dark Prophet” Tyler McClelland, is completely silent...

Suddenly, a knock on the door elicits a response from the placid ‘Prophet’ and a single man walks through… “Deathwish” Danny Williams.

“…what?” Tyler asks.

Danny replies, “Nice speech, my friend. What’s going on? Sorry to hear about Laura…”

Tyler remains staring at the wall.

“Whatever… what do you want?”

Danny, actually smiling for once, sits down on the couch across from Tyler.

“Why don’t you turn some lights on?” Danny says as he reaches over to the lamp.

“Leave it alone. What do you want?”

Danny freezes in his tracks…

“I dunno, man… I kinda want to talk. Where have you been? What have you been up to? I haven’t seen you around much outside of our matches…”

Tyler rolls his eyes, rather uninterested.

“I’ve been dealing with my dead wife’s and child’s funeral. Is that a good enough excuse for you, Daniel?”

The room goes quiet… an awkward silence shattering Danny’s once jittery disposition. Finally, Tyler shakes his head and smirks a bit.

“Sorry. How’s it been going with you and… Julie, right?”

The huge grin returns to Danny’s face.

“Man, it’s GREAT! She’s so beautiful… and she’s sweet… and… I dunno man, I think I’m in love… I could really see myself with her for the rest of my life.”

Tyler nods, a smile creeping up onto his lips.

“Oh?”

“Yeah… she’s amazing… we’re going out AGAIN tonight! We’ve gone out like, every night in the last three weeks!”

“You sound like a school-boy, Daniel… this is a big difference from the torn, angry youth I inherited as my project… this is good, though. I’m glad to help.”

Danny frowns a bit.

“Your ‘project’?”

Tyler’s grin fades a bit.

“Don’t worry about it… just win your matches, I’ll deal with everything else. Have fun with her, she’s a nice one…”

”I know it, man…”

Danny stands up, looking over at Tyler… who sits on the couch across from him with his arms spread out across the back of it. He maintains a serious look on his face as Danny reaches over and shakes his hand.

“Look, I’ve gotta go… I’ll give you a call this week, alright?”

”Yeah. Sure.”

Danny, apparently invigorated by his new love, walks out and shuts the door behind him. The camera remains focused on Tyler…

“Must be nice to be happy… for now. I feel bad for having to do this to him, though.”

Tyler looks away and the camera starwipes to commercial…

July 20, 2002

*** We're back inside the Greensboro Coliseum, deep in the heart of North Carolina. Almost halfway through the show, we see that deep inside the arena that Longdogger Pete is WALKING towards the ring area just moments before his match. ***

Mark: There you see Longdogger Pere headed to the ring, set to take on Tod deKindes one more time and TONIGHT, the stakes are higher, Bobby!

Bobby: Without a doubt! If Tod deKindes can manage the impossible and defeat Longdogger Pete, then he becomes the NEW member of XF9!

*** Cut to another shot of Tod deKindes in another part of the arena, as he's doing push ups on top of two anvil cases side by side. ***

Mark: But if Pete wins, then everybody goes their separate ways. And believe me, Tod didn't make it all the way here to be rejected!

Bobby: That's what we're gonna find out momentarily!

Mark: And they're coming this way!!

…

*** Cut to the ring, where stands referee Matt Kivell and ring announcer Funyon in his snappy George R. Mani three piece suit ensemble. Reading off his coffee stained note cards, he raises the mic to his lips and speaks … ***

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, the following is a NO Disqualification match and it is set for ONE fall!!

*** As the fans cheer for the extra stipulation, we hear the almost melodic sounds of Bush's "Cold Contagious" filling in the Greensboro Coliseum. As the crowd chants the initials, we hear loud pyro going off on the stage followed by whitish smoke pour out from the stage. Out walks Longdogger Pete with his usual confident stride to the squared circle. ***

Funyon: First, from Miami, Florida; weighing in at 272 lbs … Longdoggeeeeeeeerrrrrrrr Peeeeeeeeeeete!!!

*** Pete makes a giant step from the ringside mat to the ring apron and crosses the ropes confidently, posing with a simple fist in the air to the crowd. As Gavin Rossdale's merry band of musicians fade to a stop, everybody awaits the second competitor. ***

Funyon: And his opponent …

*** Instead of the usual Slipknot firing up, we get some Static X instead. The slow and chilling "Cold" blares out the speakers, signaling Tod deKindes' new musical accompaniment. ***

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

*** Whereas the song is new, the usual strobe lights and smoke accompaniments remain. Tod walks out to a slow but intense pace, still clad in his black trench coat and dark silver shades. He stops at the bottom of the ramp, doing a 180 and throwing an approving nod at the crowd. He goes to enter the ring, but pulls himself back. ***

Bobby: What's he doing?

*** Tod reaches under the ring and comes up with a chair in hand, which he tosses into the ring, missing Pete by a few inches. He finds another chair, which he sends into the ring as well. He finds two more, both ending up beside their metal companions. Tod sees that's enough for now, so he slides under the bottom rope, hops onto the second turnbuckle and lets out his ritual mighty roar to the fans, whom answer back in kind. He hops back down to the mat, removing his trench coat and shades. He throws them to the ring girl and stretches into the ropes, as the lighting treatment returns to normal. ***

Mark: Last time they met it was a No DQ match as well, but they chose to go a more traditional style of wrestling. However tonight, Tod seems ready to do just about the opposite!

Bobby: We'll find out if Tod is XF9 material, but for now, here we go!

*** Bell rings. Pete looks around the ring to check out the various implements of pain infliction, although he fails to notice Tod in the ready position and extending his leg towards his face with full force. ***

Mark: And a superkick right off the bat!!

Bobby: No!! The cover!!

*One!*

*Two!*

*Th-- …

*** Pete kicks out and tries to shake off what could have been a quick and definite upset loss. Tod keeps up with the fast paced offense with quick solid right hands to the side of the head. Irish whip to the ropes. Pete ducks a clothesline and a back elbow but runs right into a flying forearm courtesy of Tod. Quick cover. ***

*One!*

*Two!*

*** Quick kick out by Pete. Tod stays on him with a forearm to the upper back and then scores with a lightning fast snap suplex. He holds onto the front face lock and brings Pete back up, only to slam him back down using a face first front suplex. He lifts him back up for a third time and modifies the Sara Sequence into a falcon arrow. Cover. ***

*One!*

*Two!*

*Th-- …

*** Kick out by Pete. Tod tosses him to the outside and follows suit … ***

Mark: Tod is starting off very hot here tonight and Pete is feeling the effects!

Bobby: What we got here is motivation behind Tod! He wants to win this match at ALL costs and that's most definitely what he's letting LDP know right from the get go!

*** Tod nails a couple more forearms to the back of Pete and then sends his head crashing into the steel ring steps. Irish whip to the far side … and Pete crashes all the way into the adjacent set of steel steps. Tod backs Pete into a ring post, makes a few calculations and then UNLOADS with a knife edge chop to Pete, causing the crowd to let out a mighty Whoo. Another brutal chop causes them to repeat that. ***

Bobby: Shouldn't Matt Kivell be counting these two out right about now?!

Mark: No way because this is NO disqualifications!! They can fight outside for as LONG as they want, although the deciding pinfall MUST take place in the ring.

*** Tod grabs Pete by the hair and drags him all the way to the announce table, smashing his head right in front of the commentators. ***

Bobby: Hey watch it!!

Mark: Right in front of us, LDP just tasted our table and he don't want no seconds!!

*** Pete tries to walk it off, holding his forehead; but Tod is right on him with a handful of pants and hair, as he proceeds to toss him over the barricade and into the crowd! ***

Bobby: Barely two minutes in this match and they're already fighting in the crowd!! This is surreal!!

*** Tod hops the railing and meets up with his opponent, hammering away at him with more right hands to the head. Pete, clearly on the defensive, backs off from Tod, staggering near the ever present penalty box used in local hockey games. Tod catches Pete with another solid right hand and then bounces his head off the durable plexiglass window. Seeing as THAT won't work, Pete tries to stumble away again, as arena security clear the path of fans who enjoy being this close to the action. Tod gets a brief running head starts, meets up with Pete and blasts him with a clothesline to the back of the head. ***

Bobby: Come on, that was an attack from behind!!

Mark: Anything goes tonight, Mark! And Tod is willing to do just about anything to win this match!

*** Tod raises Pete to his feet by the hair, and decides to head back towards the ringside area. He tosses him over the barricade, causing Pete to land on the padding with an empty *Thump*. As Pete stagger back to his feet, Tod shouts an order at the security agent near him … who gets down on all fours? ***

Bobby: What the hell is he doing??

*** Tod runs towards the railing … uses the downed security guard as a "bounce pad" and flies off into the air, connecting with a HUGE flying crossbody onto Pete. Instead of going for a cover, as is his instinct, Tod hammers him with rapid fire right hands to the side of the head. Despite Matt Kivell's warnings to take it back inside the ring, Tod first chooses to smash Pete's head against the ring apron. He then tosses Pete back inside the ring, and quickly follows him back in. Both men get back to their feet ... and Pete begins laying into Tod deKindes with a series of hard right punches! ***

Mark: Looks like Pete is starting to get his groove back!

Bobby: Oh, God, I can't believe you just said that.

Mark: What?

Bobby: Never mind ...

*** Pete struggles to regain some lost momentum in the match, and he doesn't disappoint here, each stiff right punch succeeding in staggering the much smaller Tod. Tod leans back against the ropes, a brief moment of weakness that Pete quickly capitalizes on. Pete grabs Tod by the arm, wrenching him away from the ropes and whipping him hard toward the opposite side. Tod runs helplessly toward the opposite set of ropes, flailing his arm as he goes, hoping to restore feeling to it. Tod bounces off the rope and then begins running back towards Pete, only to be met with a nasty big boot to the face. Tod, to his credit, retains his footing, although he rubs his jaw in obvious pain. Pete grabs a quick go behind into a rear waist lock, tangles the arms together and lifts him into the air, absolutely manhandling him as he drops Tod back to the mat in a fierce pumphandle slam. ***

Mark: Holy Sweet Canvas! LDP is really taking it to Tod now.

Bobby: The vet's getting his payback!

*** Pete drops down over Tod and hooks his leg, trying for a cover attempt of his own, his first of the matchup. ***

*One!*

*Two!*

*Thre-- ...

*** Tod manages to get his shoulder up, though just barely. Pete seems surprised, yet upset at the same time as he stands up again, lifting Tod off the mat, then throwing him back down in a two-handed choke toss. Tod lies flat on his back, and Pete is again ready with the cover. ***

*One!*

*Two!*

*Thre-- ...

*** Tod again gets the shoulder up, and this time Pete is incensed, shoving Tod out of his way as he stands up. ***

Mark: I think Pete is beginning to realize that defeating Tod deKindes is not going to be as easy tonight as it was on last week's Storm!

Bobby: You're calling last week an easy defeat? Pete hit a Clogger out of nowhere! Tod had that match won!

Mark: Well, Pete's strength is in hitting those power moves under any situation. He's been in the business a long time, so he knows how to adapt to just about any style.

*** Tod slowly gets back to his feet, ready to face Pete again, standing a bit unsteadily. Tod counters Pete's next couple of blows, targeted toward Tod's chest, and counters with a pair of rapid nerve strikes across the chest that impact with a resounding THWACK! Tod leaps into the air to attempt a flying clothesline to take down the big man. The move is successful, but Tod lands off balance, and both men tumble to the mat. After a moment's hesitation, Tod rolls atop Pete, drops his arm over Pete's chest and hooks the leg, just enough for the referee to judge it as an official cover attempt. ***

*One!*

*Two!*

*** Pete lifts his arm into the air, stopping the count before three. Tod tries to lift Pete by his arms, but Pete counters while still lying down by striking Tod in the face with a nasty headbutt. Tod goes down, nose bloodied by the unexpected attack, and Pete begins to climb to his feet. ***

Mark: Ouch! Looks like Tod deKindes has just been busted open!

Bobby: What's this 'busted open' business? It's just a little nosebleed!

*** Pete grabs Tod, holding him to the mat with one hand on his neck. Pete then begins punching away mercilessly at Tod's face. Tod's nosebleed worsens and becomes a disturbing flow of blood. ***

Mark: You were saying?

*** Pete leaves Tod lying for the moment, making his way to the nearest turnbuckle instead. Slowly he begins to ascend, and the audience begins to cheer, knowing what is about to occur next. ***

Mark: Looks like we're about to see a Longdogger Legdrop!

Bobby: And your point is ... ?

*** Pete climbs up to the second rope, but stops, hesitating just short of the top of his ascent. ***

Bobby: What the hell is he doing?

*** Pete slowly climbs back down the ropes and then slides out of the ring. He ducks down underneath the ring apron, searching for something, until he finds what he's looking for, and pulls out a steel chair. Pete re-enters the ring, now climbing up the ropes with the chair in his hand. This causes the audience to really get interested this time. ***

Mark: Is he going to do what I think he's going to do?

Bobby: Oh, that is going to hurt ...

*** Pete ascends all the way to the top rope, then balances himself precariously, holding the chair in the air with one hand and flashing an 'L' symbol with his thumb and forefinger of his other hand to the expectant audience. Pete then bends his knees and leaps forward off the top rope, but instead of performing a leg drop, Pete dives headfirst off the turnbuckle, clutching the chair in front of him, raised to strike Tod as he descends! ***

...

*** ...TOD ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY! ***

...

*** Pete's head impacts with the chair at the same time the chair impacts with the mat, causing a sickening THUD to resound in the ring. For a long moment both Pete and Tod remain motionless. Tod staggers up to his feet, sees that his opponent is still down, grabs his arm and then he locks him into a La Majistral cradle. Matt Kivell hurries into positon. ***

*One!*

*Two!*

*Thre-- …

Mark: NO!!! So very close!!

Bobby: That was three!!

*** Tod picks up one of the two or three chairs scattered around the ring (ones that weren't pushed out by Matt Kivell) and then locks his crosshairs on Pete's head, waiting for him to get up. Whereas everybody expects a mighty swing of the chair worthy of Barry Bonds, we get a mighty throw of the chair worthy of Pedro Martinez; as Tod simply opts to *chuck* the metal weapon right in Pete's face, both ends colliding with a loud "Clank!". Tod notices that he throws harder than he thought, but heck, he falls on top for the cover anyway ... ***

*One!*

*Two!*

*** … rather he pulls him, lifts him up in a fireman's carry position and then DRIVES him down with a devastating death valley driver. With Pete in perfect position, Tod heads over to a corner and starts a slow climb of the turnbuckles. Once up top, he almost immediately leaps off, in hopes of hitting his trademark swanton bomb … but Pete gets both knees up!! Crowd releases a collective groan … ***

Mark: That could NOT have felt good, Bobby!

Bobby: If Tod wasn't hurting before … heh, well, now he is.

*** Tod contorts his body in pain on the mat, as Pete is slowly trying to recover from the brutal chair throw he suffered. He shakes it off however, and raises up Tod to his feet by the hair. He yells some trash at him, trying to break him down. When Tod tries to reply with a half hearted lunge of the right hand, Pete stops THAT with a field goal kick to Tod's unmentionnables, causing another groan of sympathy from the North Carolina crowd. ***

Bobby: GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Mark: … He's gonna feel that one in the morning, folks.

*** Irish whip to the ropes by Tod, who "tries" to run, despite his current crotchial agony. Pete catches Tod in a sleeper hold and then cinches it in tight … ***

Mark: As Longdogger Pete locks in the sleeper hold, it could be over right here. If Tod passes out from the restricted flow of blood to the brain, we could see his dream get shattered right here tonight.

Bobby: Tod CAN'T afford to lose this match tonight, Mark! He's worked too hard for this chance and he'll be damned if he's gonna let it slide through his fingers.

Mark: Good point there, Bobby … Wait, did I just SAY that!?

*** Tod crumples to his knees, as Matt Kivell kneels down next to him and repeats him the all important question. ***

Bobby: Quiet, I think he's saying YES!!

Mark: No he's not!

Bobby: Yes he is!!

Mark: No he's NOT!!

Bobby: He's giving up!!

Mark: He's not giving up, folks!!

Bobby: Yes he is!!

Mark: No he's not!!

Bobby: No he's not!!

Mark: Yes he is!!

Bobby: Ah HA!!

Mark … Dammit!!

*** Despite that little exchange between the announcers, Tod is slowly fading … Matt Kivell steps in and raises Tod's arm once … and it drops. ***

*One!!*

*** Kivell makes sure that Tod is indeed not responding to his calls … and raises the arm again … and it flumps down a second time. ***

*Two!!*

Bobby: One more and that's it!

*** Kivell lifts up the arm for a third time, holds it up for an extra second … he releases it … but it stays up!! The crowd gasps a sigh of relief. ***

Mark: Not quite, Bobby!!

*** Tod starts showing signs of life again, as he struggles to get back to his feet. Both men now standing. Elbows to the gut by Tod, as Pete loosens his grip. Tod throws himself into the ropes, but Pete lunges at him with a clothesline in an attempt but Tod ducks. Hiptoss attempt by Pete is blocked by Tod. Gutshot, Tod puts his leg over Pete's head and performs a full back flip. Pete uses the momentary distraction and goes for another clothesline but Tod ducks and grabs a rear waist lock. He tries to lift up Pete for a german suplex, but Pete is a little reluctant to take the move. Tod remedies to that with a couple of solid forearms to the upper back, and then finally manages to complete the german suplex, nearly dropping Pete on his head. Tod maintains the bridging hold into a pinning combination. ***

*One!*

*Two!*

*Thre-- …

*** Pete gets the shoulder up. Tod neutralizes his opponent with a swift dropkick to the side of the head, as he was getting up. Tod heads over to a nearby corner and hops up to the second turnbuckle. He aims the point of the elbow and then drops it right onto Pete's forehead. Lateral press for the cover. ***

*One!*

*Two!*

*Thre-- …

*** Kick out by Pete. Tod tries to regain some sort of an advantage with a series of half hearted to weak right hands to the side of the head. Irish whip to the ropes by Tod, which is reversed by Pete, as he switches side with a modified arm wringer, sending the german one to the ropes instead. Tod ducks a back elbow and then a clothesline, but then Pete lowers his head for an attempt at a back body drop. Tod uses a Van Dam-esque backwards flip to escape that, yanks Pete back up by the hair to a standing position, and hooks on a Full nelson, seemingly in hopes of a dragon suplex. ***

Mark: Tod seems to be going for that suplex, without much luck …

Bobby: Of course not, Pete is WAY too big!

*** Pete does NOT feel like being dropped on his noggin once again, so with some straining, he breaks the Full nelson, spins around and tries to floor Tod with another clothesline, but Tod ducks and finally gets that Irish whip to the ropes on Pete. Kick to the gut by Tod. He throws himself into the ropes and connects with a huge delayed swinging neck breaker. He bounces off the ropes one more time and this time he nails a sweet looking knee drop to the forehead. Cover. ***

*One!*

*Two!*

*Thr-- …

*** Another kick out by Pete. Tod drags him up by his hair, and Irish whips him to a nearby corner. Tod grabs a nearby handy steel chair and prepares to charge. Pete instinctively lifts up his boot, but Tod had THAT well scouted as he lifts up the chair to block, and swats away Pete's raised boots, which hit nothing but steel. Tod quickly capitalizes as he jams the BUTT end of the chair into Pete's gut, doubling him over, and then he quickly tosses the chair out of the way. He grabs Pete in a front face lock and boosts himself off the ropes, connecting with an amazing modified tornado DDT! Tod contemplates going for a cover, but he instead prefers to lift him up again to administer some more punishment. Irish whip to a nearby corner by Tod. He charges in hopes of connecting with his trademark spear in the corner … but Pete moves, as Tod goes shoulder first into the ring post. Pete capitalizes and grabs his own rear waist lock. He lifts up the german grappler with ease and then DROPS him with a release german suplex. ***

Mark: As we all know, that shoulder has always been one of Tod's weak spots. I guess it's only a matter of time before we find that if it will be his undoing or not.

Bobby: You know how LDP works, Stevens. Once he sees an advantage presenting itself in front of him, Pete will POUNCE on it and make the most of it until he's declared the winner of the match! Like you said, it's only a matter of time. Only a matter of time until Pete takes Tod's shoulder and turns it into JELLO!!

*** Pete keeps Tod grounded with hard kicks to the upper back and the back of the head. A series of rapid fire elbow drops seems to ensure that very point, punctuated by a quick leg drop off the ropes. Lateral press for the cover by Pete. ***

*One!*

*Two!*

*Thr-- …

Mark: No!!

*** Kick out by Tod, as he tries to seek refuge in a corner. Pete meets up with him and starts stomping a mudhole in the german one. Before walking it dry, he blows off Matt Kivell's useless warning; and THEN he walks the aforementionned hole dry. Irish whip to the opposite corner by Pete, as Tod collides hard back first into the turnbuckles. He staggers out, holding his lower back; but Pete catches him with a double leg pick up, spins him around 180 and then PLANTS him down with a sit down powerbomb! ***

Mark: That's what he calls the Perfect Dark!!

Bobby: It is OVER, right here!!

Mark: The cover!

*One!*

*Two!*

*Thre-- …

Mark: NO!!!

*** Another close kick out by Tod, who gets the shoulder up in the nick of time. However, Tod ain't moving, which allows Pete to make his international "L" symbol … giving Bobby some prime material, as well. ***

Mark: And Pete is now going for his Longdogger Legdrop!!

Bobby: I KNEW IT!! I KNEW IT ALL ALONG!! Longdogger Pete is FINALLY admitting that he's a LOSER!! A LOSER!! The truth comes out at last!!

Mark: Will you shut up!

*** Pete slowly ascends the turnbuckles while the crowd starts a faint "L - D - P! L - D - P!" chant. Pete dives off with the grace and agility of a lightweight and he connects with a HUGE Longdogger Legdrop. He leans over into a pinfall attempt, confident that he's got this one in the bag. ***

*One!*

*Two!*

*Thre-- …

Bobby: Not quite !!

Mark: Come on, ref !!!

*** A little upset, Pete pulls up the near lifeless Tod to his feet to slap him around a little … but Tod simply collapses back to his knees. ***

Mark: Come on now, he's had enough.

Bobby: No way! Tod ASKED for this match and now he's getting what he deserves!! If it takes the beating of his lifetime for him to understand that he's not XF9 material, then SO BE IT!!

*** Pete grabs the ever present steel chair and wedges it in a corner, between the second and top rope. He once again drags up Tod by the hair and talks a little more trash towards him. Hard Irish whip to the corner by Pete … and Tod's back absolutely murders the chair, as both ends come violently into contact. Tod falls back to his knees, in total agony. Pete lifts him back up and then scores with a Northern lights suplex into a cover. ***

*One!*

*Two!*

*Thre-- …

Bobby: NO!!!

Mark: He kicked out!! Tod kicked out!! After SO much punishment!! You can almost TASTE how BAD he wants this one, folks!! He will NOT quit!!

*** Pete tries to dispute that count with Matt Kivell, but the man in stripes stands his ground (and points to the SWF/SJL patch on his shirt to reinforce his authority). Pete looks to have had just about enough, as he signals to the crowd for the end by the way of a loud "That's it!!!". ***

Bobby: And now, ladies and gentlemen, it was a fun ride for Tod deKindes, but now for the second week in a row he's about to feel the Longdogger Clogger!!

*** Pete locks on the double underhook on his german opponent, as the crowd starts roaring with anticipation … but he doesn't deliver the move just yet, opting to change gears and score with a basic piledriver. ***

Mark: What is Pete doing??

*** Thinking that THIS will do it, Pete slides to the outside, locates an intact steel chair and slides in inside the ring. He places it properly in the center of the ring and focuses back on the half dead Tod. ***

Mark: No, don't tell me …

Bobby: Yes!!

Mark: He's going to deliver the Longdogger Clogger onto that steel chair?!

Bobby: Whatever it takes to win, Stevens!! Whatever it takes!!

*** Pete knows that he's got him know, and takes his sweet time applying the setup for his big move. He hooks one arm … but can't get the other arm hooked. Tod contorts out of Pete's grasp and shoves him chest first into the corner! ***

Mark: Wait, Tod's got it countered!!

*** Tod locks on the Full nelson again, and with his last breath of energy, he manages to lift him Pete … into a SOLID dragon suplex ONTO THE STEEL CHAIR!! He bridges into a pinfall. ***

*One!*

.

*Two!*

.

*Three!!*

Mark: HE'S GOT HIM!!

*** Bell rings, as the crowd erupts into cheers. ***

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner … Tod - deeeeeeeeeee - KIN - deeeeeessssssssss!!!!!

*** As Static X's "Cold" blares out in a victorious setting, both men lay on the mat, still groggy from a hell of a match. Matt Kivell comes over and raises Tod's hand. ***

Mark: What a HUGE win for Tod deKindes here tonight!! And guess what, Bobby; there is a NEW member in the XF9!!

Bobby: Please!! … (rapidly running out of excuses) He got lucky!!

*** After spending a few minutes on the canvas, both Tod and Pete find their way up to their feet, both holding aching body parts. Pete is first up to his feet, and yanks up Tod as well, with a look that shoots daggers, as he seems ready to inflict some more pain on the youngster ... ***

Mark: Come on now …

*** But instead, his demeanor changes from a stern look into a smirk, as he gently pats Tod on the back of the head and raises his arm, as an official "Welcome aboard" gesture. Pete then decides to retreat to his dressing room, allowing Tod to have this moment, as he celebrates in the ring with his Todheads … ***

Mark: What a match this has been! This is not the end, but it's a NEW beginning for Tod deKindes and the XF9!!

Bobby: Let me assure you … he has NO idea of what's up the road ahead!

*** As Tod continues to celebrate in the ring, we slowly fade away to a commercial break. ***

July 20, 2002

“Welcome back to the Greensboro Coliseum--”

“Midnight Carnival…”

“—hey, I was talking!” The voice of Grand Slam Mark Stevens is cut off by a roar of cheers as the arena lights drop out, replaced instead with the glimmering glow of a flashing Smarktron! The opening screeches of “Love Rollercoaster” echo out into the arena, and as the laser lights flare up off the ramp, the crowd goes nuts!

“Oh, come on!” whines Bobby Riley. “We’ve already seen Z wrestle, and we have to sit through a Magnifico match AND an Edwin & Raynor match later tonight! I’ve got my fill of idiot pranksters, thank you very much.”

As the words “Rollercoaster of love” sound through the arena for the first time, the blue laser lights flare out, but where a silhouette of incoming Carnies usually appears at the top of the entrance ramp, there’s nothing…

…until the refrain drops in, a wall of purple strobe lights explode, and the Love Rollercoaster itself comes bounding down the ramp, Chris Raynor at the wheel and driving like a madman! “A typically grand entrance for the Carnival!” shouts an enthused Stevens, and the fans are loving it! Magnifico sits grinning in the passengers seat, Edwin stands tall on the tailgate with both of his title belts raised, and Z clings to the roof, holding on for dear life as he takes his first 30 mile an hour ceremonial golf cart ride! “Back on Smarkdown, the Carnies decided that it was time to lay down the law, and that they would deal with the Magnificent Seven…tonight! We’ve already seen Z battle it out with Danny Williams, and Raynor and Edwin are slated for their first tag title defense against Frost and TNT in our main event, but what could they have in mind beyond that?”

“My guess: stapling socks to the M7’s dressing room and writing ‘YOU STINK’ on the wall with chalk. That’s about as tough as these guys get.”

“Making their way to the ring, weighing in at a whole bunch of pounds, especially if you include the golf cart,” bellows Funyon, “they are Z, Chris Raynor, El Luchador Magnifico, and Edwin MacPhisto—the Midnight Caaaaaarnival!” Chris Raynor slams on the brakes and cuts the wheel hard left as the ‘Coaster slides down the ramp, lights glimmering off its shiny bumpers and racing stripes as it sideswipes and stops just inches from the ring apron! The veteran Carnies leap out, and Magnifico doubles back to pull a still mildly terrified Z off the roof, leaving a few claw marks behind in the cheap plastic sheeting. The four men each take to a turnbuckle and pump a single fist into the air—Raynor, crowd whore that he is, yells out a noble “SMASH” to all the waiting fans—and after a few moments of rousing cheers, the Carnies dismount and take up position in the center of the ring. Edwin takes the microphone from Funyon with a graceful bow, and Magnifico, Z, and Raynor take up position as sort of Greek chorus for Edwin’s orator.

“First…there was nothing. Then…there was the Carnival.” And the crowd goes nuts for this entirely random platitude! Edwin grins, gives an impressed nod to his cohorts, and begins his speech.

“It was on Smarkdown that we finally decided.” The Mac Daddy clears his throat and begins to recap. “Since Chris Wilson’s return to our humble federation at the end of May, he has done nothing but provide a heap of thorny lies. He claims that we, the Carnival, and especially I, Edwin MacPhisto, hold down and manipulate everyone we come across for our own benefit. Then, Mr. Wilson, after, yes, earning himself a title shot through a combination of hard-work and low-down dirty cheating decides that if we’re not to believe his pap, he’s got a better way of making us listen: hammer it into us.” The Carnival Chorus sounds out:

“Ohhhhhhhhh, nooooooooooooo.” Z hits a very, very impressive high C.

“At Snake Eyes, I managed to retain my world title against that master manipulator, but not without incurring great bodily harm. We the Carnival saw Wilson take his plan to the next level, recruiting a veritable army: Outcast. Danny Williams. The Boston Strangler. TNT. Frost. Stryke. A personal hit squad, each member with his own twisted ideals and desires. And guess who lucked out and got to be their first target?”

The Carnival Chorus speaks once more.

“Uuuuuuuuuuuussssss!”

“That’s right, boys! So, that’s where it started. And here…is where it ends.” A murmur rumbles through the crowd, and Edwin licks his lips. “We’ve talked it over. We’ve come to a decision. Tonight, we stop TNT and Frost in their tracks…and then, at Ground Zero, we take the rest.”

“What?” shouts Mark Stevens. “What’s Edwin proposing here?”

“We are two strong groups, Wilson. Potent indeed. Consider this a direct challenge: not from me to you, not from me to The Boston Strangler…from ALL of us—“ Edwin pauses to make an all-encompassing gesture, and his colleagues bow “—to all of you.” Another crowd pop, and the crowd is on edge now! “Every time we look we’re coming out on top, what happens? Three more Magnificent Seven members come dashing out of nowhere to beat us down! Every time we’re minding our own business, what happens? We get jumped in the parking lot and hammered with crowbars! We come out to answer a challenge, and what happens? Ambushed and bloodied! No more! It ends at Ground Zero, and you know why? Because at Ground Zero, we are going to even the odds, and we are going to do it in the most brutal, unrelenting forum possible!

“FOOOORUM!”

“…guys, you weren’t supposed to--”

“FOOOORUM!”

“Stop it!”

“Sorry, Edwin,” mumbles Raynor. “We like ‘forum’. It’s got a nice harmony.”

“Fine, fine. We’ll sing it later…back to business! Unrelenting! Unstoppable! A place where the numbers are equal! The Carnival, versus the Magnificent Seven’s chosen warriors…in a steel cage!” The crowd explodes!

“Cage match!” shouts Stevens. “That’s it! Carnival vs. M7, cage match, Ground Zero--”

But Edwin’s not finished.

“A steel cage—a steel cage twice the sized of a regular steel cage!”

“What?” Even Riley is confused at this point. Edwin continues…

“A double cage…a double cage…surrounding…two…rings…”

“Oh my god…” murmurs Stevens. “He’s not…”

“FIVE men of ours, versus FIVE men of yours…” And now the crowd is picking up on it, and the cheers are getting louder and louder, and suddenly Edwin lets the dam burst!

“FIVE ON FIVE! A DOUBLE CAGE! TWO RINGS! NO-DISQUALIFICATIONS! VICTORY BY SUBMISSION! CHRIS WILSON AND THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN: THE MIDNIGHT CARNIVAL HEREBY CHALLENGES YOU TO…

…

…WARGAMES!!!”

“YES! YES! The Midnight Carnival and the Magnificent Seven! Wargames! I can’t believe it!” shouts Stevens.

“The Carnies are going to get annihilated!” says Riley…a bit unsure.

“You can bring everything you’ve got, Wilson! Choose five of your men against five of us! In that cage, anything goes, but it’s even, you merciless bastard! We fight till the end! It doesn’t matter how much blood is spilled how much of a beating you can bring—this isn’t over until someone taps out! What do you say, Wilson? Are you and your boys up to the challenge? Or can you not handle it when someone dares stand up to you?”

And, an answer to the call erupts out of the speakers in the form of “Toxicity,” blaring and bashing the sound system to pieces. “You’re gonna be sorry you ever opened your mouth, MacPhisto!” snaps Riley. “Even if you get that cage, it’s 7 on 4 now…wait a second…four? He said fi--”

But before Riley can finish, he’s overcome by a roar of boos as the entire Magnificent Seven pours through the ramp! Chris Wilson leads, with Stryke, Outcast, and the Boston Strangler to his right, while TNT, Frost, and Danny Williams take his left! He immediately produces a microphone and starts to shout down at Edwin even before the techs can cut the music.

“Edwin, my boy—you really want to do this? You really want to put yourself in the ring with five of mine, five of this seven who’ve done nothing but beat the shit out of you and your little pals there for the past three weeks? If that’s the case, you know what I say to that, Edwin?”

“I am the very model of a modern major general?”

“NO!” Wilson’s in a fury! “WE ACCEPT!” The roof blows of the Greensboro Coliseum, and Mark Stevens is going nuts himself!

“IT’S SET! The Magnificent Seven accepts the Carnival challenge…Riley, do you know what this means? This is going to be huge! Even bigger than the legendary triple cage match between Prime Evil and Die Hard! 9 days away! I can’t believe it! God, I wish I could be in there, raking Wilson’s face across the steel!”

“We accept, Edwin, and you know why?” says Wilson, cutting off the crowd ovation. “Because you just signed yourself a death warrant! Look who you want to face in a no-disqualification submission match—me! Chris Wilson! The master of the Finishing Touches! Danny Williams, THE premiere submission wrestler in this league! Tyler McClelland, the man who can take you apart technically in a half-second! TNT and his Short Fuse that’ll choke you out in a moment! And look at you! What are you really going to do in there, Edwin? Hit us with some pies? Put ants in our trunks?”

“That’s actually a good idea…” pipes Raynor…

“SHUT UP! You four are a bunch of sissyfoot bitches, and you know it! You don’t know what you’re getting into, Edwin! We’ll bring the violence, all right: what are you four going to bring?”

“Five, Wilson,” snaps Edwin. “Five.”

“Five? Right, Edwin. You’ll pull Johnny Rotten and his fat broken face out of the hospital just so Danny can paste him to the mat again? Not likely, pal. The Carnival is quite possibly the wussiest group ever to get a foothold in the SWF, so how do you possibly expect to stack up to THIS LEVEL OF BRUTALITY?”

“Five, Wilson.” Edwin grins. “Five.”

“Will you stop--”

And the thundering rumble of “Quarantined” by At The Drive-In rips through the speakers, and the crowd goes apeshit!

“NO! NO! HOW COULD HE DO THIS?” scream Riley! Wilson’s face suddenly goes blank, and behind him, Stryke goes down to a hard chairshot! Deathwish goes down next, and the M7 crowd thins! The crowd is going nuts, and leaping out of the back comes Thoth, swinging a steel chair straight into the face of Chris Wilson! The blow catches Wilson hard in the jaw and blows him to the side, knocking his microphone away! The Boston Strangler moves to take Thoth out, but the Balancer deftly dives to the side and jams the chair upwards and into Strangler’s throat! He stumbles away gagging, and Thoth swings the chair wildly! From his position on the ground, clutching his skull, Wilson calls off the Seven, and the group bails off the side of the ramp, taking up defensive positions below Thoth!

“Thoth! The Midnight Carnival and Clan alliance is finally showing its worth, as Edwin has just recruited Thoth to be the fifth man in the Wargames match! This is amazing!”

On the ramp, Thoth kneels and picks up the microphone, the steel chair still dangling from his right hand…

“Wilson…at Ground Zero, you can’t run anymore. You made the mistake of going up against two enemies at once. Apart, maybe you can hold us off…but together, you’re finished. We’ll see you Sunday. So says…the Clan.” Thoth throws down the microphone and raises the chair high above his head to a surprising cheer, and “Love Rollercoaster” kicks up to another ovation!

“You heard the man, Wilson!” shouts Edwin over the music. “Pick your men, and we’ll see you on Sunday…because this…means…WAR.” The Mac Daddy throws down the mic and the Carnival scrambles for the Love Rollercoaster. Thoth throws his chair down towards the M7, and the Boston Strangler swats it away defiantly, but the look of rage in his and Chris Wilson’s eyes is tremendous. The Balancer disappears behind the entrance curtain as the Love Rollercoaster clatters up the ramp behind him!

“It’s official, ladies and gentlemen!” shouts Mark Stevens. “Ground Zero: the biggest match our federation has ever seen! The Midnight Carnival and Thoth versus Chris Wilson’s Magnificent Seven in the Wargames cage! Bobby, I can’t believe it…”

“Ugh…neither can I…”

And we cut to commercial on the penetrating glare of Chris Wilson, cursing, pounding the ground, and staring at the Love Rollercoaster as it rockets away…

July 20, 2002

“A hearty welcome back to SWF Storm!” Yells Stevens, competing with the screams and cheers of the exuberant crowd as the camera pans across the jam-packed Greensboro Coliseum. “We’re live from North Carolina and what a show it’s been so far!”

“Average.” Says Riley in a bone-dry tone of voice. “We had an extremely…mediocre match to start the show off between Danny Williams and Z, then that was followed up by a distinctly average match between…”

“Alright, Mr. Enthusiasm, we get the point.” Mark interrupts the sombre summary of events. “Next up we’ve got a match between two high-flyers, the Clan’s leader Spider Nekura and…El Luchadooore Maaaagniiificoooooo!”

“You know, I could sue for that.”

“Then do it.” Stevens retorts. “Nekura hasn’t yet won a match since his return from Japan but he’ll be looking to shake the ring-rust off tonight against an ex-world champion, El Luhadore Magnifico.”

“Yeah, the dirty Mexican could prove useful for once by helping Spider return to form.” Says Bobby.

“It’s the Clan versus the Carnival who, as of late, have been trying to co-operate with each other for mutual gain. But, as shown in the main event on Storm, it doesn’t always work out.”

“Edwin took one in the kisser from Spider after the Magnificent 7 came down to ringside with bad, bad intentions.” Explains Riley.

“It looked like an accident to me.” Admits Stevens.

“Oh stop being so naïve Mark. Nekura meant to do it, it was so obvious!”

“Shit-stirring again are we, Bobby?”

“No, just calling it how I saw it, that’s all.” Riley replies. “Although I heard that Spider called Edwin a ‘flaming puff’…” Bobby puts on his finest English accent to mock the Clan leader.

“Oh please.” Stevens doesn’t want to hear anymore. “Magnifico has also been deeply involved in Clan business but there’s not a sign of co-operation between him and Tom Flesher apart from his fist co-operating with Flesher’s head.”

“That was terrible.”

“Flesher attacked ELM during his match last Storm and then they were both involved in a tag team match on Smarkdown which resulted in a Clan win.”

Without warning the mundane arena lights cut out but, almost instantly, they are replaced by multi-coloured spotlights. The entranceway is lit up from time to time as the heavy guitar intro from Metallica’s ‘Leper Messiah’ reverberates through the Coliseum. A handful of cheers go up but are soon drowned out by the abundance of boos. Storm is still fresh in the fans’ memories.

On cue Funyon steps into the ring and raises his trusty microphone to his lips. “Introducing first, standing at a height of 6 feet and one inches, weighing in at 231 pounds. He is the leader of the Clan…SPIDER NEKURAAAA!”

He emerges from the back, arms raised in the scarecrow pose, soaking up the crowd’s mixed reaction. Nekura begins his descent down the ramp, his black robe trailing across the steel surface, his boots clicking on impact with the metal. He steps through the ropes, throwing down his cowl and ripping his robe off before taking a casual seat on the top turnbuckle.

“Nekura’s making himself comfy” Riley snorts. “Even he knows this match is going to be a walk in the park.”

“I highly doubt it.” The former carnie says.

The guitars are abruptly silenced and, in turn, are replaced by the shouting of a strong Mexican voice. “UNO! DOS! TRES! CUATRO!” The arena erupts with the fans’ cheers of anticipation. “Mission Trip to Mexico” by Bunch of Believers roars through the PA as El Luchadore Magnifico bursts onto the entranceway, flag aloft and waving through the air.

“His opponent, weighing in at 190 pounds and hailing from Mexico City, Mexico…he is a member of the Midnight Carnival…EL LUCHADOOORE MAAAGNIFICOOOO!!”

The luchadore walks down to ringside, slapping the hands of his adoring fans on the way. Nekura looks uninterested in the ring, fiddling with the white taping around his fists and wrists. Mag makes it into the ring, dropping his flag and then hops up onto the turnbuckle, pumping his fist into the air in time to the crowd’s cheering. He jumps down and begins to stretch his quads as his music ceases, his eyes on Nekura. The crowd’s exuberant noise begins to die down with the Mexican’s music.

“Mag looks up for this one.” Stevens comments. “I wish I could say the same for Nekura, but I’m sure, mentally, he’s just as prepared.”

* DING DING DING *

The ring bell spurs Magnifico to assume a fighting stance and Spider to jump down from his perch. He walks towards ELM, head held low but eyes transfixed, looking through the mess of black hair which impedes his vision. They lock up in the centre of the ring, battling for early dominance. The two warriors grit their teeth as the veins in their necks bulge under the pressure. Nekura wins the contest of strength, pushing Magnifico back towards the ropes. The Luchadore however, has other ideas and drops to one knee before ducking under Nekura’s outstretched arms. He pops up behind the sadist with the Hammerlock applied but has to have his wits about him when the Mexican ducks a vicious back elbow attempt. Spider looks around himself, thinking of ways to counter the hold. He jumps down onto his kneed while reaching back and grabs ELM’s head before pulling the Luchadore over with his free arm in a modified Snapmare.

“A quick start to this match.” Says Stevens.

“A quick start to a quick match.” Riley grins. “Hopefully.”

Nekura takes advantage, nailing a hard roundhouse kick into Magnifico’s back as he sits up after the Snapmare. The thunderous impact echoes through the arena as Nekura steps back, letting Megnifico get to his feet. ELM rubs his back as the two men circle each other and then lock up for a second time. This time the battle is even shorter as Magnifico slides his right leg behind the Clansman’s heels and pushes him. The sadist falls to the mat but is quickly up, flipping to his feet with impressive athleticism. Mag closes in with lightning pace and doubles Nekura up with a sharp kick to the gut. The Mexican born wrestler then jumps up and over his adversary, hooking Spider’s thighs and pulling him down into the pin with a sunset flip out of nowhere! The ref counts –

ONE!

TWO – Nekura presses down on Magnifico’s shoulders with his legs, causing the Luchadore to fall back under the weight. Spider now has the pin –

ONE!

TW – Mag kicks out easily but with no real vigour. Spider goes for the pin again, holding ELM’s legs up in the… ‘missionary’ position –

ONE – ELM pushes down on the cultist’s shoulders and neck, causing him to flip all the way over onto his back! Another pin!

ONE!

TWO!

Kickout!

“Wow. Impressive series of pinning manoeuvres from both these guys.” Stevens comments.

“Classic cruiserweight stuff.” Says Riley.

Both men jump to their feet and take their favoured fighting stances. Magnifico turns to the crowd with arms raised, spurring a cheer and a round of applause from the fans. Nekura parts his hair from his eyes and as ELM turns back to face him, he nails the Mexican with a Superkick! Mag drops to the canvas but makes it to his feet relatively quickly. Spider nails ELM with a straight right hand jab to the stomach, causing the Luchadore to lower his head as he holds his stomach. Spider follows up with a hard uppercut into the Mexican’s chin. It rattles him and Magnifico steps back, dazed for a second. Nekura grabs the former World Champion and whips him into the turnbuckles, back first. The Luchdore staggers forwards and walks straight into Nekura’s grip. Overhead Belly-to-Belly Suplex!

“Looks like Nekura’s getting the early advantage.” Riley comments.

“Yep.” Stevens agrees. “Magnifico’s gotta be careful or this could be over quickly.”

Mag slowly makes it to his feet as Reece closes in. A stiff kick to ELM’s thigh spurs a wince ffrom the Carnie as Nekura whips him into the ropes. Mag rebounds off the ropes at a cheetah-like pace and manages to duck a telegraphed clothesline attempt from the sadist. He bounces back off the opposite ropes and then goes for a clothesline over his own! Spider ducks under the outstretched arm, locking onto the cruiserweight in a Belly-to-Back hold! He lifts Magnifico up off his feet and thrusts back…German Suplex! Spider manages to hold the bridge as the ref gets down to make the count –

ONE!

TWO!

TH – Magnifico manages to break the bridge!

Spider gets to his feet, pulling him up with a fist full of long black hair. A couple of reverse elbows directed into the bridge of Mag’s nose soften the Luchadore up before Nekura whips him into the turnbuckles. Magnifico hits the corner with the small of his back. He grits his teeth to counter the pain as Nekura runs towards him with frightening speed. ELM reacts quickly, hoisting himself up onto the middle turnbuckle and then grabbing Nekura’s head as he runs in. The Mexican makes a ‘lasso’ gesture with his arm before jumping off the turnbuckle! He twists through the air, spinning Nekura around with him and then shifts all his bodyweight back, toppling Nekura over and driving his head into the canvas with a Tornado DDT!

“Ingenious counter by El Luchadore Magnifico!” Praises Stevens.

“Magnifico nails the Tornado DDT!” Says Riley.

The Carnie gets to his feet before helping his opponent to do likewise. Mag hits some right and left hooks, knocking Nekura back and then follows the rally up with a piercing kick to the breadbasket. ELM applies the front facelock , draping Spider’s arm over his head and then pushes off the ground, pulling Spider over and snapping him down to the mat with pace, hence the name – snap suplex. Magnifico then bounces off the ropes and follows the Suplex up with a hard leg drop across Nekura’s throat. Both men make it to their feet, Spider considerably slower than his opponent as he holds his neck, gasping for air. The member of the Midnight Carnival doesn’t allow the Clansman much of that air as he closes in and nails Montezuma’s Revenge! Nekura‘s head springs back with the impact and he falls to the mat as the crowd let out an awe-inspired cheer. Magnifico pins the sadist‘s shoulders to the mat –

ONE!

TWO!

THR – Spider gets a shoulder up!

Mag then dawdles his way across the ring and ducks under the top rope before stepping out onto the apron. The Mexican grabs hold of the top rope and patiently waits for the Englishman to get to his feet. Nekura obliges but sees Mag as he jumps onto the top rope, looking for the Springboard Dropkick! Reece dives at the ropes and collides with them, sending huge vibrations down the ropes beneath the feet of Magnifico! The Carnie loses his balance and falls back, crashing down onto the concrete floor beneath him! The crowd show their feelings with a collective ‘Ooof!‘. Spider follows the downed Carnie to the outside, slithering under the ropes.

“Now the match takes to the outside.” Stevens begins. “This is where the damage is really done.”

Spider drags Magnifico up and begins to repeatedly smash the Mexican’s head into the crowd barrier. He then pulls Mag back and whips him into the steel blockade before rolling the Carnie into the ring on the ref’s 8 count. Nekura swiftly ducks under the ropes and steps into the ring, eager to inflict pain. He snarls at the downed Mexican before helping him to his feet and throwing him into the ropes. Magnifico bounces off the ropes as Spider swings himself around, outstretching his lethal right leg. The Luchadore anticipates the Spinning back kick and ducks under Nekura’s leg. He rebounds off the opposite ropes, his arm now outstretched for the clothesline. The Clansman however, sees it coming and evades the move, hooking onto ELM with a Half-Nelson. Nekura then pulls back Magnifico’s free arm into a Chickenwing! Spider emits a growl of determination as he hauls the Carnie off the mat and hurls the Mexican over his head! Magnifico hits the canvas with a thud, his body folding up into his shoulders!

“Spider Suplex on Magnifico!” Shouts Riley.

“That could be it, right there.” Mark comments, a grimace on his face after viewing the brutal Suplex.

Spider crawls across the ring, a sick grin pasted on his face as Magnifico finally falls flat against the mat, motionless. The sadist pins ELM’s shoulders to the canvas and hooks a limp limb. The referee dramatically slides in to make the count –

ONE!

TWO!

THRE – Kickout!

Spider slowly gets to his feet, a slightly surprised look on his features before dragging ELM upright. Nekura then whips Magnifico into the turnbuckle. The Luchadore hits the corner hard, causing the air to rush from his lungs and a crippling pain to shoot up his back. He grimaces as Spider calmly walks towards the Mexican. Spider grabs the Carnie around the throat and begins to throttle his opponent, wearing him down. The referee counts to three before breaking the blatant chokehold, physically breaking the two combatants apart. Nekura turns to the referee and shoots him an icy stare. The cultists then growls something inaudible to the viewers at home, as ELM shakes the deoxygenated blood from his head. The partly revitalised Magnifico rushes out of the corner with newly acquired spring in his step, as Nekura turns around. The Luchador shows a full set of teeth to the sadist as he hops into the air…and almost cleaves Nekura in two with a powerful Spinning Heel Kick!

“Magnifico with the spinning heel kick!” Stevens cries.

“I have to admit…” Begins Riley. “that was some kick.”

Spider thuds into the mat back first, his hands wrapped around his sternum, the focul point of the kick. Magnifico looks towards the corner of the ring and smiles. A pop goes up from the crowd as they realise the Mexican’s intentions. The former World Champion makes his way to the corner and begins to ascend the turnbuckle. He gets to the top, waving to the crowd as he does so and is greeted with a hearty cheer from the fans. The Cruiserweight then springs off the turnbuckle, executing a Back Flip through the air…Spider rolls to his left and Magnifico misses the Moonsault! ELM hits the canvas with a tremendous crash, the impact of which throws him back up into the air before he finally comes to a stop on the mat. Nekura slowly makes it to his feet.

“Magnifico seems to be in a great amount of pain after that missed Moonsault!” Obeserves Mark.

“Really, Sherlock?” Mocks Bobby. “You know I’m glad you’re here to tell me these things.”

Magnifico gets to his feet and Spider sends a kick in his direction. ELM catches the boot and pushes it to the side. The sadist spins all the way around until he is facing Magnifico again. The Luchadore springs up onto Spider's shoulders, scissoring his head between his legs. He thrusts his body back down, tossing Nekura through the air! Spider skids across the mat before coming to a stop. Magnifico hooks Nekura’s leg -

ONE!

TWO!

THRE – Nekura gets a shoulder up!

Magnifico helps Spider up to his feet and then throws him towards the turnbuckles. The Clansman hits them back first and then stumbles out of the corner, dazed. The Luchadore advances forward, bounce in his step and thrusts his leg into the air, looking to nail a high calf kick. Nekura’s reactions are instant, raising his arms and catching Magnifico’s leg in mid-air! The sadist wraps his arms around Mag’s body, trapping his leg in between! Spider looks behind him, towards the turnbuckles and smirks deviously. The cultist falls back, hurling the Cruiserweight over his head and into the hard turnbuckles behind! El Luchador Magnifico’s limp body drops to the canvas after the impact with the turnbuckles, shoulders first! Homicidal Suplex!

“Oh my God!” Shouts Stevens. “A Capture Suplex into the turnbuckles!”

“Great use of the ring!” Adds Riley.

Spider slowly makes it to his feet, the crowd showering him in boos. He walks to the edge of the ring and then ducks under the top rope before stepping out onto the edge of the apron. The crowd are booing even more now, as he assumes his ‘scarecrow’ pose. Nekura growls at the same fans who, only a couple of days before, were cheering him then grabs hold of the top rope, preparing himself for his next move. He hops up, onto the top rope and then backflips through the air, executing the BLACK WIDOW BOMB!

“This is over…” Proclaims Riley.

Too soon. ELM somehow manages to crawl away, causing Nekura to hit nothing but the hard mat! Both men are down and the referee begins to count –

ONE…..

The crowd is whipped up into a frenzy, desperately cheering for Magnifico to make it up to his feet! But suddenly, the cheers begin to die down and boos replace them as the fans’ attention is drawn to the entranceway, where the Clansman, Tom Flesher has just appeared!

TWO…..

“Wait a minute…it’s Flesher!” Shouts Stevens. “He’s here to help Nekura!”

“Nonsense!” Riley disagrees. “He’s merely coming down to ringside to cheer on his Clan buddy.”

Flesher begins to walk casually down to ringside, a pleasant grin pasted on his face!

THREE…..

Flesher makes it to the ring but, to many of the fans’ surprise, does not enter the squared circle. Instead he simply begins to pump out a rhythm, banging his closed fists on the canvas and shouting words of encouragement to Spider…and Magnifico?!

FOUR…..

The ref shouts something in the direction of the Clansman on the outside, probably telling him, in much stronger language, to leave. Flesher holds up his hands and raises his eye-brows as if to say “me?”.

FIVE…..

“Someone get this idiot away from ringside.” Snaps Mark.

SIX…..

Both men in the ring begin to stir, ELM the one who looks a little more recuperated out of the two. He stands up, using the ropes as a prop to lean on as Nekura rolls around on the canvas, trying to find his bearings. Mag looks to the outside, noticing Flesher and gives him a frown.

“What you doing here esse?!” He shouts, questioning the Superior One.

In reply, Tom gives him the same look he gave to the referee as Nekura gets to his feet, using the ring ropes to pull himself up. Magnifico draws his attention away from Flesher and pummels Nekura with a flurry of furious jabs and hooks. Spider staggers back into the ropes next to Flesher. ELM follows Nekura. The Clansman shakes his head loose of the ringing sensation in his head and with the little energy he has left he springs forward and snaps his leg up high into the air for the Calf Kick! Mag evades the kick yet again, ducking under the sadist’s outstretched leg and Spider lands on his feet behind the Mexican. The Luchadore grabs back, snatching Spider’s arms in his grip and hooks them both. Magnifico then runs at the ropes…

“No! Spider get out!” Rile shouts, seeing the danger the sadist is in.

But the call of advice is in vain. The Luchdore runs up the ropes and then flips back over his adversary, applying all his body weight to the head and upper torso of Nekura. Spider crumples to the mat instantly, his head smashing into the canvas with a sickening thud! The fans cheer wildly. Nekura’s battered frame doesn’t even flinch after the impact until the Luchdore turns the beaten sadist onto his back. He hooks the leg for the inevitable three count as the fans shout along –

“ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX!”

But the referee does not count. Instead, the official is being harassed by Flesher who has now jumped up onto the edge of the apron!

“No!” Mark exclaims. “Mag had this match won!”

“That’s debatable.” Replies Riley.

The cacophony of boos and jeers that fill the Coliseum are deafening. Magnifico bangs on the canvas, desperately trying to attain the referee’s attention, but to no avail. The Mexican jumps to his feet, irate and walks towards the Superior One, a stern look of annoyance on his features. He pushes the referee aside and raises his fist…as Tom Flesher jumps down onto the concrete floor!

“The coward!” Stevens bellows, feeling Magnifico’s frustration. “Mag had this match won until Flesher showed his ugly face and distracted the ref!”

“Oh now, Mark.” Riley sighs. “Ugly?”

Another boo goes up from the crowd as Flesher shows his cowardice…or cunning. A battle of words then ensues between the two men, exchanging insults for a good thirty seconds or so. By this time the referee has had enough and jumps down to the concrete floor. He tries to push the Clansman away but Tom doesn’t budge. A couple more officials run down the ramp to the referee’s aide, frantically trying to get Flesher to leave. Magnifico is still watching him, not willing to take an eye off the Superior One until he is out of sight. And all the while Nekura is stirring. Spider rises to his feet like the living dead, he has had sufficient time to partially recover. He smirks with sadistic delight as Flesher grins at Magnifico and points over his shoulder. ELM realises the danger at the last second and spins around…Nekura spits the black mist into the Mexican’s eyes!

“Black Mist!” Cries Stevens.

Magnifico cries out in pain, clawing at his stinging eyes as he turns around, temporarily blinded. Flesher begins to chuckle as he turns from the ring and makes his way up the ramp. The referee runs back to ringside, unaware of Spider’s cheating tactics. The black liquid drips greedily from the sadist’s lips as he lunges forward at Magnifico. The Clansman grabs ELM by the leg and places his own head under Mag’s arm. Nekura hoists the Carnie off his feet and spins him effortlessly over his shoulders before driving him down into the canvas with the spine-shattering square sit-out driver!

“STIGMATA! STIGMATA!” Yells Bobby.

“This can’t happen!” Says Stevens, calling for justice to be done.

Nekura leans forward, not having the strength or energy to move from his sit-out position, and grabs a leg. The referee, now in the ring, slides in for the count as the arena literally shakes with the crowds’ boos!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

“It’s over!” Stevens exclaims. “Nekura and Tom Flesher have beaten Magnifico!”

“Tom Flesher?” Bobby says in an inquisitive voice. “I’m sorry Mark I think you’re delusional, Flesher isn’t scheduled to fight tonight.”

Stevens frowns at Riley as Metallica’s ‘Leper Messiah’ begins to play over the loudspeakers. Nekura falls back on the mat, fatigued.

“The winner of this match by pinfall…” Shouts Funyon. “SPIDER NEKURAAAA!!”

The boos, which began minutes ago, are as loud now as they were before. Nekura stumbles to his feet, looking at himself on the big screen, not entirely sure where he is exactly. He rolls out of the ring, wiping the black solution from his mouth with the back of his hand and then makes his way up the ramp, victorious.

“There’s no way Nekura would have won that match if Flesher hadn’t showed up.” Stevens argues.

“Flesher didn’t touch Magnifico.” Riley states. “He didn’t do anything.”

“Well we could argue about this all night…” Stevens says. “and probably will, but now we’ve got to take a break. Join us when we come back, straight after the commercials.”

The camera zooms out, leaving the viewer with an image of El Luchadore Magnifico on his knees in the ring, his face twisted into a look of shear anger, as the SWF logo appears onto the screen…

July 20, 2002

After the preceding commercials, the scene returns back to live action from the Greensboro Coliseum in North Carolina. The atmostphere is electric, ecstatic, and the fans are only amplifying the energy of tonight's already explosive show. The camera swoops across the stage, displaying the countless signs brought in by the crowds. They bobble it up and down for a few seconds before the camera takes the scene away and relays it to the ground, where "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley continue to amaze us with their bickering.

"(Mark) Welcome back to Storm. Great night, wouldn't you say, Riley?"

"(Riley) Shut the hell up. I'm not your friend."

"(Mark) ... I was just making conversation! Jeez! Anyways, folks, up next is a real treat. Thoth will be taking on the Boston Strangler for a chance at Edwin MacPhisto's SWF Championship!! A night of already unprecedented events will only get better!"

"(Riley) What's the catch? Name the catch."

"(Mark) It seems that the tide has already been set and it's going against Strangler. Thoth will not only be a challenge... but the special guest referee, the ICTV Champion, Erek Taylor, will also be."

"(Riley) Erek Taylor... pfft... he thinks he's so good..."

"(Mark) Well, enough of your crap. Let's get this one going."

The chime of the drums signals the beginning to "Downfall". The fans instantaneously rise to their feets, exploding into cheers as multicolored lights shine down on the squared circle, almost transforming the arena into a nightclub. As the music grows louder and the song goes deeper in, flames slowly begin to spark off the entrance ramp before finally erupting in a giant wave, showering the stage with mists of smoke.

"Can I break away? Push me away..

Make me fall, just to see,

another side of me...

Push me away, you can't see,

what I see,

on the other side of me...."

The chorus of "Downfall" ends but the beat continues. The smoke on the ramp clears out, revealing Erek Taylor, who crouches in his signature pose.

"(Funyon) The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is for the #1 contendership to the SWF WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP!!! Introducing first, the special guest referee of this match...from Anaheim, California, he is the SWF ICTV Champion.... EREK!! TAAAYYYLOOOORRRR!!!"

Erek mindlessly spins around to another chorus of cheers before venturing down the ramp. Erek finally slides into the ring, taking his place next to Funyon as the duo awaits the combatants. The arena darkens, and the multiple colors are replaced by a haunting blue. "Quarantined" begins to mystify the crowds and Thoth enters the stage, totally clad in formal Clan robes.

"(Funyon) Now, making his way to the ring, from parts unknown, weighing in at 236 pounds, THOOOTTTHHH!!!!"

Thoth makes his way down the ramp before ascending to the apron. There, he removes his robes and tosses it aside before entering the ring. The crowds remain silent but their feelings are obvious.

"(Mark) Well there's Thoth-"

"(Riley) And here's Riley!!! Haha, I crack myself up."

Thoth prepares for his match, tightening his wrist bands until...

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!! Flashes....and the fans switches moods, showering the stage with boos as "Burn to Burn" starts to play over the PA. The lights on the stage illuminate the massive posture of the behemoth... the lieutenant of the Magnificent Seven.... the man known as the Boston Strangler.

"(Funyon) And his opponent, from Boston, Massachuchetts! Weighing in at 303 pounds.... the BOSTON STRAAANNNGLLLLEERRRRR!!!!!"

Strangler emerges from the back, sadistic grin in sight as he walks down the ramp, letting his trench coat float behind him. Strangler reaches to ringside, staring into the squared circle where his two challenges lie: Erek Taylor's referee powers and Thoth's unique adapting abilities. Strangler tosses his shades aside and slides into the ring. Thoth makes a move, but stops himself as Strangler rises to his nearly 6'10 height.

"(Mark) Here we go. Thoth and Strangler with Erek Taylor as the referee!!"

Erek signals for the bell.....

***Ding ding ding!!!***

.....and Thoth and Strangler begin to circle the ring. The two combatants lock up at the center and Thoth is quickly overpowered by Strangler, who twists Thoth into a hammerlock. Thoth tries to counter out, but Strangler hurls the Balancer to the ropes before anything else happens. Thoth rebounds and runs right into a hard hook from Strangler. Strangler advances forward, delivering another hook, a massive right hand before shoving Thoth to the corner. The mammoth of a man walks in and quickly drives an elbow into Thoth's chest, paying the former stablemate an unhappy visit. Strangler swings another right, but Thoth scouts out the manuever, blocking the punch and counter attacking with a hard chop.

"(Crowds) OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!!!!!!!"

Thoth delivers another chop before grabbing Strangler by the wrist and hurling him to the ropes-NO! Strangler counters with a whip of his own. Thoth rebounds and Strangler takes advantage of the Balancer's speed by raising his boot into the air, swiftly driving it into the face of the Clansman!

"(Mark) Strangler, as always, continues to dominate his opponents. This time, he takes Thoth down with a big boot."

Thoth rises to his feet, a little dazed, but nevertheless, unhurt. Strangler takes a few paces forward and again connects with another hard right. Thoth staggers back, and Strangler takes advantage of the Clansman with another fierce right hand. Strangler grabs Thoth by the wrist and hurls him to the ropes. The flexibility of the ropes sends Thoth rocketing from the sides and Strangler is just too slow to take Thoth out! The Balancer leaps into the air and drives a mighty forearm across the behemoth's face, driving the crowds into cheers! Celebration of this event, however, is short-lived, as Strangler piles back up on his feet and goes on the defensive end. Thoth unleashes a fury of jabs and punches, aimed towards Strangler's face and neck area. Strangler doesn't bother to block, taking all the damage in like a sponge on water. The giant gets backed up to the corner, with Thoth continuing to deliver a barrage of jabs to the body of the Boston Strangler. Grabbing the giant by the wrist, Thoth attempts for a whip but Strangler lazily pulls Thoth in.... right into a stiff clothesline!! The crowds awe at the move, which leaves Thoth lying on the canvas for at most, two seconds.

"(Riley) Whoa!! Now that was a clothesline!!"

"(Mark) Strangler's strong, as we just saw."

Strangler brings the Clansman back up, and sends him packing for the ropes with another hard right. The mammoth of a man grabs the Balancer by the wrist before hurling him across the ring. Thoth rebounds, and eludes Strangler's clothesline.... before spinning around and doubling the giant over with a kick to the torso. Thoth steps forward and wraps his arm around Strangler's head- OOH! But before Thoth could execute the DDT, Strangler counters with a Northern Lights Suplex!! Strangler scampers over Thoth and hooks the right leg.... and Erek Taylor, although displeased, slowly goes down to count.

ONE!!!

TWO-and a kickout! Strangler glares at Erek, who calls for the match to continue. Strangler ignores the guest referee, for now, and goes right back to work on the Balancer, bringing the Clansman up to his feet before delivering another right hand. Strangler moves in and lets out another punch, a third, a fourth, a fifth before grabbing hold of Thoth's wrist and whipping him into the turnbuckles. And like a runaway freight train, Strangler rages into the corner, and collides with Thoth via clothesline. The impact leaves Thoth stunned and the Balancer collapses to the ground, drawing many boos from the crowds who have lately started to like the Clansman.

"(Mark) The count there was, well, interesting, to say the least."

"(Riley) Interesting? That count was slower than my grandma!"

"(Mark) Wasn't your grandma a former track runner?"

"(Riley) Noo... that was my aunt, you bafoon."

Strangler grabs Thoth by the arm and pulls the Balancer to the center of the ring before trying another cover....

ONE!!

T-and Thoth pops a shoulder up. Strangler doesn't discourage, attempting another cover but the end result is just the same. Strangler brings Thoth up to his feet, measures him up, and decks him with another right. He advances two steps, and using his massive hands, picks Thoth up and plants him with a scoop slam. Thoth pops back up to his feet, right into another scoop slam by Strangler. The behemoth brings Thoth up and with his mighty strength, hurls the Clansman to the ropes. Thoth rebounds, just as Strangler steps to the side. The mammoth of a man picks Thoth up by the side, showing off his impressive strength as he carries the 236 pounder around like a rag doll. Strangler pauses for a moment before planting Thoth into the mat with a sidewalk slam! Waves of boos pour down and Strangler hooks the right leg of Thoth...

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THREE-and Thoth kicks out!!

"(Mark) Strangler, one of Chris Wilson's elites, one of this federation's strongest men, continues his awesome run from his return. A win here will definetly be a big boost to his already illustrious career!"

"(Riley) Damn straight."

Strangler tries for another cover, but Thoth pops a shoulder up at two. Another cover, and another kickout. Strangler brings Thoth up to his feet and connects with a fierce right. He delivers yet again another right, sending the Balancer staggering to the ropes. Strangler grabs hold of Thoth's wrist and with one tug, whips him to the ropes. Thoth rebounds, and Strangler tries for a clothesline- only to hit air! Thoth evades the attack, quickly spinning around and delivering a kick to Strangler's gut. The Balancer counter attacks, moving on to the offensive end and raining down a fray of combination right uppercuts and jabs. Thoth backs Strangler to the ropes before knocking the giant out of the ring with a clothesline. Seeing the action now spilled to the outside, the front row fans instinctively rise to their feets, reaching towards the ring to try to get a piece of the superstars. Thoth exits the ring, and with the momentum flowing for him, grabs Strangler by the hair and cannons the giant's skull into the side of the steel stairs! Immediately, the steel stairs fall out of position, proof of how hard the impact really was! Thoth grabs Strangler by the hair once more and once more, he cannons Strangler into the side of the steel stairs! Strangler slowly stirs up to his feet, but Thoth does not hesitate, quickly grabbing Strangler by the pants and collar before leading him swiftly into the steel pole!

"(Mark) Thoth using Strangler's strategy of brute power. The Balancer is the best at adapting to other's styles and he's proving that right now!"

"(Riley) So? He's not unique. I used to like that guy.... but now, now that he went to go play with the Carnies, he's just like everyone else!! A FAKER!!"

"(Mark) What did I ever do to deserve such a punishment?"

The impact sends Strangler spinning out of proportions, the only thing stopping him now is the barricade wall, which was intended for the audience! Strangler tries to fight back, but before he can even swing his right hand, Thoth comes raging in with quick jabs to the face. Thoth continues the assault, delivering jab after jab, fond of the punishment he's delivering. The Balancer brings Strangler forward before grabbing hold of the behemoth's wrist and hurling him hard straight away towards the barricades! Because the wall is so short, Strangler trips over and stumbles into the crowds, who quickly part ways to allow the fight to continue. The special guest referee, Erek Taylor, hops out and follows the action.

"(Riley) Why isn't Erek counting them out? He's the referee!!"

"(Mark) A great question. But sadly, the only answer I can give is that maybe Erek just wants Thoth to hurt Strangler as much as he can."

"(Riley) That's not fucking fair!"

"(Mark) Hey, tell that to the Magnificent Seven and their ganging up!"

"(Riley) That's different."

"(Mark) How is that different?"

"(Riley) It just is, now shut up."

Strangler allows Thoth to enter the outside, and just as the Balancer does, the behemoth lunges forward with his shoulders, and tackles Thoth back to ringside!! Erek manages to dodge the fray and quickly steps aside for the giant to do whatever he wants to do. Strangler slowly staggers to his feet, and restarts his domination of the Balancer, decking the Clansman with a fierce punch. Thoth staggers, and Strangler is able to lead Thoth back into the ring before attempting the pin.

.....

No count! Erek is still on the outside, chatting with a group of females in the front row!! The crowds give a cheer, but all that only upsets Strangler, who rises to his feet and yells for the referee.

"(Riley) Now, what the hell is that?"

"(Mark) It's all fair. Strangler had TNT and Frost attack Erek on Smarkdown, now Erek's returning the favor!"

"(Riley) ::sigh:: ...it begins...."

Taylor hears the call and excuses himself from the fans before sliding in and delivering the count.

ONE!!

T- and Thoth kicks out. The Boston Strangler never puts his mind off Erek's prescence, and doesn't start even as he traps Thoth into a strangle hold! Erek gets in front of Thoth, asking for submission, but Thoth stubbornly refuses to give up. Thoth grimaces in pain, but manages to grind his fists together and shoot punches into the massive torso of the Boston Strangler. Although the punches did little damage, it did loosen up Strangler's grip, which allows Thoth to quickly crawl away and pile back up on his feet at a safe distance. Thoth moves forward and swings- blocked punch, and Strangler retaliates with a headbutt. Thoth staggers to the ropes, and Strangler grabs hold of the Balancer's wrist before hurling him to the ropes. Thoth rebounds, and Strangler, this time, traps the Balancer with a sleeper hold. Thoth tries to counter out, but before he can, Strangler hoists the Clansman into the air then pulls him down to the canvas with a sleeper drop!! Strangler goes for the cover:

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THRE- OOH! Thoth barely inches his shoulder up!!

"(Mark) What a sleeper drop! Strangler pulled Thoth down from the sleeper as if the Clansman was a baby!"

"(Riley) Now why in the world would Strangler pull a baby down? Or lock the sleeper hold on a baby?"

"(Mark) Because the Boston Strangler has no feelings for anyone and will break away if you treat him badly. And by badly, I mean bad to Strangler's mind."

Strangler tries another cover, but once again, Thoth proves resilient, kicking out at two this time. The behemoth looks a bit angry, arguing the call in his mind but never showing his feelings on the outside. He rises to his feet, bringing Thoth up with him as he swings and connects with another right hand. Strangler grabs Thoth's wrist and hurls the Balancer to the ropes. Rebound, and Strangler sets himself up as Thoth comes racing in. Grabbing Thoth by the leg and shoulders, Strangler hoists the Clansman into the air before rendering a quick fall backwards, planting the Balancer to the ground with the Samoan Drop! Thoth lies there, motionless as Strangler continues to dominate, rising to his feet and snapping on a hold around Thoth's waist. Without even thinking, Strangler hoists Thoth into the air like a feather and plants him into the ground with a German Suplex! Rarity is the only word beginning to describe such a manuever from Strangler. He stands over Thoth and with one foot, places it over Thoth's chest, going for the cocky pin, which draws countless boos from the crowds!!

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THRE-and yet again, Thoth pops a shoulder up!!

"(Mark) How close can it get?!! Thoth is shocking us all with his resiliency!! And what a cocky bastard the Strangler is!"

"(Riley) Hey, you would be cocky too if you just did a german suplex from the ground in one fluid motion!"

"(Mark) That doesn't give any reason for Strangler to be cocky."

Strangler reconsiders his decision for the pin, but doesn't consider it long as he soon brings Thoth back up on his heels. Strangler draws his right arm back, but thrusts his left fist forward instead, flashing his sadistic grin to the crowds afterwards. He pummels Thoth back, and with a tug, hurls the Balancer to the ropes. Thoth rebounds, and Strangler bends down for the Balancer, who scouts out the move and flips over the massive body of the Magnificent Seven Lieutenant. Grabbing Strangler by the ankles, Thoth pulls as hard as he can, and pulls the behemoth down for the sunset flip....

WAIT!! No!! Strangler catches his balance and drives a knee right into the neck of the Clansman, igniting a wave of "WHOOO!"s. Strangler continues his domination, grabbing Thoth by the hair and dragging the Balancer back up to his feet. With the swing of his arm, he sends Thoth staggering back a few paces. Strangler steps forward, and gives Thoth a lending hand, pushing the Clansman into the turnbuckle.

"(Mark) Thoth now helpless in the corner, where Strangler can inflict the most damage."

"(Riley) That's right, Strangler! GO STRANGLER!"

Strangler rages in, raining down a flurry of hard rights and lefts to Thoth's face. Bruises begin to emerge from the spots in which Strangler's fists touched. That still doesn't stop Strangler from his assault and conquest. The mammoth of a man caps off the round with an elbow before backing to the center of the ring, and allowing Thoth to slowly stagger forward. The Balancer's legs lead the way and Strangler squares up, arching his right arm before popping it forward-NOTHING! Thoth manages to duck under before the clothesline and quickly goes 180 degrees to swing a right hand, connecting it with Strangler's face! Strangler hesitates, and Thoth delivers a thrust uppercut. Thoth moves in and tries another uppercut, but Strangler catches it in the air and counters with a massive headbutt! A massive headbutt that sends Thoth to the edge of the ring with hands holding his face in anguish.

"(Riley) What's the matter, Thoth? Headache? Hahahahaha!!!"

"(Mark) Sometimes I wonder if you were dropped on your head."

"(Riley) Same goes for you."

Strangler moves forward, expecting no struggle from the Balancer. But Thoth doesn't share the same feeling and swings a desperation right hand, connecting it with Strangler's face. Strangler staggers, and Thoth walks in and connects another right. He swings and connects another, and another, and another, pummeling the mammoth of a man to the center of the ring before doubling the Strangler over with a knee to the gut. With momentum flowing his way, the Balancer dashes to the ropes, using its flexibility to propel himself at a high speed. Thoth races in and raises his knee, driving it right into the back of Strangler's head!! OOOF!! Strangler falls to the ground but Thoth doesn't stop, his speed carrying him to the ropes once again before racing in and dropping an elbow into Strangler's back! Thoth quickly mounts himself on Strangler's back and locks in the sleeper hold. Strangler struggles, using most of his strength to pile back on his knees. Thoth continues the hold, increasing the pressure every second and seeing Strangler beginning to rise, drives his knee into Strangler's spine and pushes the mammoth of a man back down!

"(Mark) Thoth, battling back with everything he's got. Using his knee and sleeper hold combo to deal with the Boston Strangler."

"(Riley) I should have known he would do that. It's so obvious that the Boston Strangler is too strong to be hurt by just a sleeper."

Strangler refuses to submit, grimacing in pain as he tries to reach for the ropes. Thoth increases the pressure even further, so much that even the Balancer himself begins to turn red. The sleeper does not bring down the mighty Strangler, who continues to crawl for the ropes, dragging the 236 pounder along for the ride. Then, as the Strangler nears the rope, Thoth releases the hold and brings a stomp to Strangler's back! Thoth delivers another kick, and then another, before you know it, the Balancer begins to deliver repititive stomps to Strangler's body, forcing him into the corner. Thoth brings Strangler up and with one mighty stroke, lashes out with a hard chop. The crowds responds with the usual "WHOOO!" as Thoth grabs Strangler by the wrist and hurls him to the opposite corner, hard. Strangler staggers forward, arching his back in pain as Thoth moves down and uses his entire body weight to hoist Strangler into the air, landing the giant M7 member with a back body drop. Thoth doesn't hesitate and quickly goes down for the cover:

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THRE-and Strangler kicks out! The Boston Strangler tries to rise but Thoth delivers one kick to the chest and attempts another cover:

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

TH-NO!

"(Mark) Thoth is beginning to fight back but Strangler is still too strong to go down for the three count."

"(Riley) Too strong and too smart! He let Thoth do all those kicks because he knew he would wear the Clannie out."

"(Mark) Are you actually saying that?"

Thoth brings Strangler up in a hurry and lashes out with a hard chop. The crowds responds with another "WHOOO!" as Thoth goes in and delivers another hard chop. He tries for a third chop but Strangler blocks it in the air and counters with a punch of his own- no! Thoth counters that, linking the chain and capping it off with a thrust uppercut. Strangler's neck reddens with pain as Thoth delivers another uppercut, and then another, backing the giant M7 member to the ropes with his quick attacks. The Balancer grabs hold of the Strangler's wrist and hurls him to the ropes. Strangler rebounds, regaining the momentum the only focus in his mind, and scouts out Thoth's attempt at a back body drop, countering with a kick to the face that pops Thoth back up. Thoth dangles on his feet as Strangler squares up and runs in, knocking the Balancer down with a hard shoulder block. Thoth pops right back up, only to get doubled over with a kick to the gut. Strangler senses the tides, stepping forward and wrapping his arm around Thoth's head. A hook to the arms and Strangler plants Thoth into the canvas with a double-armed DDT!!! Cover:

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THREE!-OOOOOH!!!!!!

"(Mark) I can't believe he kicked out!! Thoth kicks out of the double-armed DDT!!"

"(Riley) Stupid Strangler, you should have went for the chokeslam!"

Strangler is in disbelief, for sure he thought the move would put away Thoth for good. He figures around and spots Erek Taylor flashing a grin. With that in combination with Strangler's temper, the giant rises to his feet and yells at the guest referee.

"(Mark) What the? What's he saying?"

"(Riley) Yeah, that's right! The count was too slow! Erek's out to screw Strangler!! Yeah, you tell him, Strangler!"

"(Mark) What?! You gotta be kiddin me!"

Strangler corners Erek, demanding the three but the ICTV Champion stands his ground, shoving Strangler back to the center of the ring. Taylor raises two fingers up, signaling it was only two. But the M7 member will have none of it, and with his brute strength, shoves the referee into the turnbuckles, hard! Erek stands there, limp with the wind knocked out of him as Strangler moves in like a wolf and a rabbit.

"(Mark) And now the Boston Strangler hunting the referee instead!! Thoth's getting back up but what about Erek Taylor?!"

"(Riley) What about him? He'll be a flat pancake in the next minute or two."

Strangler thrusts his head forward, crashing it into Erek's skull with a massive headbutt! The referee stands there dizzily, barely holding on to the ropes as Thoth comes in and puts a hand on Strangler's shoulder. Feeling the Balancer's prescence nearby, Strangler blindly thrusts his leg back, and luck rewards him with a kick to the groin!! Thoth staggers, his hands holding his crotch in pain as he moves back. Strangler walks in and grabs hold of Thoth's wrist. He tries for a whip but Thoth counters with a desperation irish whip....sending Strangler crashing into Erek Taylor!! The guest referee collapses and rolls to the outside of the ring as Strangler staggers back to the center of the ring and mindlessly swings his arm forward at the Balancer. Thoth ducks under and instinctively wraps his arms around Strangler's waist before summoning all the strength left in him. He hoists the giant into the air and plants him with a hard german suplex!! Thoth drags Strangler up again and nails him with a second german suplex!! Thoth is a little slow getting up, the energy draining fast as he tries so hard to drag Strangler back up to his feet. Nevertheless, Thoth succeeds and with his remaining strength, plants Strangler with a third and final german suplex!!

"(Mark) Three german suplexes!! Thoth has got to be running on empty here!"

"(Riley) Of course. Strangler was just too dominant, you fool."

The Balancer collapses besides the Boston Strangler, both lying flat on the mat as the crowds watches on.

"(Mark) Folks, we have still no movement in the ring whatsoever from either Strangler or Thoth, let alone Erek Taylor, who is still on the outside."

"(Riley) Why is he outside? He should be in the ring doing that counting thing!"

"(Mark) Are you blind?! Strangler gave him a headbutt then ran right into him!!"

Finally, movement....Thoth manages to suck it up and piles back on his feet. Strangler is a bit slower, allowing Thoth to get the early advantage with a punch here and there. Thoth pummels Strangler with a third fierce right before grabbing hold of the giant's wrist and hurling him to the ropes. Strangler rebounds, and Thoth quickly hooks his arm with Strangler's arm before hoisting the giant into the air and planting him into the canvas with an arm drag. Strangler pops right back up and walks right into a uppercut by Thoth.

"(Riley) See, I am a miracle worker."

"(Mark) Thoth with those hard right hands and capping it off with a thrust uppercut. Good offense by Thoth but the referee is still out!"

"(Riley) No he's not, he's right there and he's sliding back into the ring. Now who's blind?!"

Erek Taylor slowly slides back into the ring, shaken up by the collision but manages to get back up on his feet. He stands there, rubbing his eyes as Thoth continues to relay hard rights to the face of the Boston Strangler. The mammoth of a man tries to counter attack but Thoth blocks it and delivers a thrust uppercut straight up Strangler's chin! Strangler staggers and Thoth takes advantage, grabbing hold of the wrist and hurling him to the ropes. Strangler rebounds..... and quickly raises his boot....

SMACK!!!

"(Mark) BIG BOOT TO THOTH'S FACE!!"

"(Riley) THAT'S NOT THOTH!!! THAT'S EREK TAYLOR!!!"

Thoth ducks under the boot but unfortunately, it hits Erek in the face, sending the referee down again and rolling out of the ring!! Erek holds his face in anguish as inside the ring, Thoth rolls Strangler up into a schoolboy!!

.....

After moments of waiting, Thoth realizes that Taylor is outside, and quickly goes off to fetch him. A tap on the shoulder and still Erek stays outside. The attention for Taylor draws Thoth away from Strangler, who slowly sneaks up behind Thoth and drives an uppercut right into Thoth's crotch!! The crowds release countless boos as Strangler grabs hold of Thoth's head and brings the Balancer to the center of the ring. With all the strength Strangler possesses, he hoists Thoth into the air before planting him into the canvas with a reverse DDT!! THE LAST BREATH!!! Strangler goes for the cover.....but Erek is still on the outside!! The giant angrily rises to his feet and walks over to the side, grabbing Erek by the hair before pulling him up on the apron. Erek is forced back into the ring as Strangler goes for the cover once more.....

........

NO COUNT!! Erek stands there, eyes blazing with fury as Strangler rises back up to his feet. Strangler corners the flyer, demanding action and demanding answers. With that, Strangler snaps on a choke hold, and Taylor is forced to counter, quickly driving his foot up and into Strangler's crotch!!

"(Mark) LOW BLOW!! TAYLOR GETS OUT OF THE CHOKESLAM WITH THE LOW BLOW!"

Strangler holds on to his crotch in pain as Erek retaliates with a fierce right, another, a third, a fourth, and a fifth punch. Erek goes for the whip but Strangler counters and on the rebound, picks the ICTV Champion up by the side for the sidewalk slam. OOH! Erek extends his legs forward and wraps it around Strangler's head before pulling it down into the canvas with a headscissors takedown!! Strangler staggers, but the High Flyin' Prince isn't done there, doubling the big M7 member with a kick to the gut. Erek steps forward and wraps his arm around Strangler's head, yelling out as the fans imitate the same yell.

"(Mark) FAME AND FURY!!"

Erek twists until their backs are face to face and with his hands still latched on to Strangler's head, pulls down hard, colliding his shoulder with the back of Strangler's neck!! Strangler collapses, paralyzed with no motion whatsoever as Erek drags Thoth over Strangler...

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THREE!!!

***Ding ding ding!!!***

"(Funyon) The winner of this match...THOTH!!!"

Erek raises Thoth's hand into the air as "Quarantined" begins to play.

"(Mark) Thoth wins thanks to some Erek justice!! It will be Thoth versus MacPhisto for the title!! WHAT A MATCH THAT WILL BE!!"

"(Riley) That's not fair! Strangler was supposed to win!! CURSE YOU EREK TAYLOR!!!"

"(Mark) Stay tuned folks, Edwin/Raynor versus TNT/Frost!!"

[fade to black]

July 20, 2002

Backstage, the camera is racing to catch up with the rapidly moving figure catapulting through the halls. As the cameraman gets closer, the man in front of them turns to head down another corridor, revealing the profiled face of the Boston Strangler. The crowd explodes with massive heat from the crowd, who boo the Bostonian as he walks through the halls, with an incredibly agitated look on his face. Strangler bursts into an opening backstage, where tables filled with food and coffee are lined up against the wall. Backstage personnel with clipboards are shouting into their walkie-talkies, preparing for the main event. As Strangler paces around, searching for something, the employees take notice and give the big man a lot of space, making sure to stay as far away as possible. Strangler, fed up with something, screams out at the top of his lungs. Strangler turns, and notices a distressed staffer trembling directly in front of him, a cup of coffee in hand. Strangler starts to turn away, then swings back and delivers a massive boot directly to the face of the staffer, knocking him straight to the floor, unconscious. Strangler storms toward the hallway as the rest of the staff hides, only to screech to a stop when he sees the object of his hatred: Erek Taylor. Taylor, still dressed in his ref shirt and a smug grin, looks up at the raging monster in front of him, and chuckles.

“What’s the matter, Strangler? Didn’t you get the autographed Bill Buckner and Bucky Dent ball I sent you?”

“That was you? You son of…but fuck the ball! Taylor, you cost me a shot at the SWF CHAMPIONSHIP! Think about that for a second!”

“I already thought about it. You see, unlike the giant, ape-like freak I’m talking to right now, I’m capable of thinking quickly, instead of standing around screaming, scratching my ass, and losing.”

“Taylor, you fucking son of a bitch! I was going to be the next SWF Champion! Not that I’d expect you to know, you glorified jobber…”

“Wait….who’s the ICTV champ? Let’s think….is it Chris Wilson? Nope, he’s too busy bitching you out when you don’t make his coffee right. Is it El Luchadore Magnifico? Nope, he’s too busy drinking tequila with Flesher! Is it Jay Dawg? Hell no! That jobber would NEVER be able to win the ICTV title! And we all know that it sure as hell isn’t the Boston Strangler, since that guy’s too busy jobbing to Edwin, jobbing to Thoth, and scrubbing Wilson’s boots so he can see his face in them. By the way, Strangler, I have a pair of loafers that need a shine….you wanna make an extra buck?”

Erek looks up at Strangler, who has everything but cartoon smoke coming out of his ears. As Strangler continues to seethe, giving Taylor a look that most people reserve for Hitler, Stalin, and Leonardo DiCaprio as Taylor continues on his little tirade. “Strangler, do you wanna know what the difference is between me and you? Do you wanna know what it is that makes me the right guy? That makes you the asshole? It’s because I’ve got the balls to go after you, Strangler. You remember that first confrontation we had in the ring, when you got all pissy over the fact that I called you names? Well, that was the one and only time that we met face-to-face, Strangler. All the other times, at least until tonight, you didn’t have the balls to go at me when I was looking for you. You interfered in my match! Then, you didn’t even have the guts to go after me yourself in the parking lot! Instead, you send the goon squad to do it! And now there’s tonight! We had each other face to face in the ring, and you lost, Strangler! I took another one!”

“First of all, you had Thoth helping you tonight!”

“Strangler, Thoth wasn’t the factor that helped me tonight. Thoth wasn’t why I was able to make you look like a moron. Because Strangler, when we’re ready for each other, and we’re in that ring, the fans are behind me. They aren’t supporting your whiny, insecure, pathetic hide. They’re cheering the High Flying Prince himself, Erek Taylor! When we get at each other on equal footing, I come out on top, Strangler! You laughed at me when I said that the crowd gave me the feeling I could do anything the first time we met! But Strangler, think about it: when the fans get involved, I win. They’re the X factor, Strangler. Not your Magnificent Seven, not your giant size advantage, not your mind-blowing stench…which by the way is getting REALLY bad…, but the fans, Strangler! And when they’re around, I can’t lose! You don’t have their support Strangler, and you NEVER WILL!”

“Taylor, you know what? You might be right. You have the support of the inbred hicks we have here for fans! I mean, the opinions of a bunch of idiots from NORTH CAROLINA is really gonna influence the way I act! But you seem to draw on them…and rather successfully at that. But guess what, Taylor?”

Taylor stares quizzically, seemingly at a loss for words for the first time in the confrontation. “What, did the Sox drop another one to the Yanks?” taunts Taylor, the grin returning to his face.

“Well, you’re right about the M7 being my weapon, and the crowd being your weapon. But right now, the crowd isn’t here….and my weapon is.”

With that, Taylor looks up in alarm before slumping to the ground as TNT, from behind, gives Taylor a repeat performance of Smarkdown. TNT’s bat smashes into Taylor’s side, sending the High Flying Prince slumping to the mat in agony. Strangler begins to stomp away as TNT drops the bat and joins in, thrashing Taylor with a flurry of hard shots from their right feet. Taylor puts up a feeble defense, somewhat shielding his battered ribs from the relentless attack. Finally, Strangler motions to TNT to stop, and reaches down. Strangler, with a manipulative grin on his face, grabs Taylor by his short, spiky hair, and hoists him into a sitting position. “Well Taylor, how’s your crowd doing now?” jeers Strangler as a glassy-eyed Taylor gazes back at him. Taylor’s empty gaze is returned by a dagger-like stare from Strangler. “Taylor, your days with that title are numbered. And if you don’t get the message soon, your days might be numbered too.”

Strangler accentuates his point by standing up, leaving Taylor in a sitting position. Taylor begins to wobble off to one side, but before he hits the mat, Strangler sends his right foot lashing forward. The boot connects squarely with Taylor’s nose, squashing Erek’s face with a sickening crunch. Taylor drops to the cement floor, bleeding from the nose, as Strangler and TNT coolly walk off, leaving the ICTV Champion, destroyed on the concrete, just as Frost and TNT did the week before. As Strangler and TNT head for the locker room, TNT turns to Strangler.

“Hey, Strangler, I got a question for ya: What about what Taylor said?”

“What, you mean that crap about the fans?”

“Well, I mean, he is beating you each time the fans play a part in the match…”

“TNT, you’re a good kid. But lay off. Taylor will get what’s coming to him the next time we fight, no matter where that may be. And you know why? Because the people that do the fighting are the ones who matter, not the jackasses that are watching. And I’m better than Taylor.”

“Yeah, of course, I just meant that…never mind. You’re right.”

“Damn straight I am. Now let’s go get some food. I’m starving.”

Strangler and TNT finally find the door marked “Magnificent 7”. TNT pushes through, but Strangler holds back, a doubtful, apprehensive look on his face. He stares out into nowhere, lost in deep thought. Then, as if snapped back into reality, he shakes his head. “The fans….what a bunch of crap. It can’t be them….it just can’t be…” mutters Strangler to himself with the worried look on his face slipping away. “Nothing more than a coincidence…” murmurs Strangler as he goes through the door of his locker room, losing himself in the camaraderie, the friendliness, the safety of the locker room.

July 20, 2002

“Midnight Carnival…”

And with a woman’s whisper and the opening squeals of “Love Rollercoaster,” the Greensboro Coliseum is on fire! The arena drops into darkness as the Smarktron flashes bright white in time with the beats of the now legendary tune, illuminating the arena in quick staccato bursts!

“Welcome back to SWF Storm,” shouts Mark Stevens, “and welcome back to our main event!”

“The following contest is scheduled for one fall,” booms Funyon from ringside, “and it is for the SWF Tag Team Titles!” As Funyon bellows his customary announcement, the words “rollercoaster of love” ring out through the arena, and three blue laser lights trace the crowd! At the same time, the entrance ramp is illuminated in a light haze, and we see in silhouette the tremendous forms of the Carnival’s most veteran members: Chris Raynor, arms raised and tag belt around his waist, and Edwin MacPhisto, tag belt over his shoulder and World Heavyweight Title fastened around his midsection! The refrain of the song drops in and the arena explodes in a wall of purple strobes as the Smarktron flashes half-second clips of the Carnival in action! “Making their way to the ring at a combined weight of 489 pounds…they are the current tag team champions…Chris Raynor and Edwin MacPhisto, the Midnight CAAAAAARNIVAL!” The champs start their trip down the ramp, juking, jiving, and slapping hands with all the fans they can find!

“Check that ovation, Bobby!” shouts Mark, grinning with a bit of nostalgia.

“Oh, I’m checking it, all right. Checking it off on my ‘things that suck’ list!” snaps Bobby Riley, looking resplendent in his pinstripe suit and bow tie. “It’s a night for new stars, not old ones, and by the time this match is over, Edwin and Raynor will be ruing the day they thought challenging the Magnificent Seven to Wargames would be a good idea!”

As the Carnies dive into the ring and pass their titles off to the referee, Stevens retorts. “For those of you just now tuning in, you’re in for surprise: earlier tonight, the Carnival challenged the Magnificent Seven to a Wargames match at the Ground Zero pay-per-view in just 9 days! Five on five, with nothing on the line but pride…and it looks our champs have something to say! Let’s listen…”

“Good eeeeeeeevening, ladies and gentlemen!” chirps Edwin, eagerly taking the microphone from Funyon. “How does it feel to be out here for our first title defense, eh?” A rousing cheer and assorted shouts of ‘It’s totally sweet!’ ring out through the arena. “Glad to hear it! Tonight, my comrade Christopher and I have got quite a show planned for you…but let me tell you, it’s only a prelude to what you’ll see this Sunday! The Carnival is taking it to the next level! The 10-man submission no-disqualification match in a double cage level! This means war, and tonight, we fire the first shots on the way to the games…so, without further adieu…Funyon, do you mind?” The ring announcer shrugs and grins, and Edwin gives him a nod. “Thank you, my good man…now, without further adieu…weighing in at a combined…uh…Raynor? Math, please?”

“SMASH!” The crowd gets a good chuckle out of that.

“Okay, thank you…weighing in at a combined…erm…SMASH…from the depths of Chris Wilson’s psyche, representing the Ridiculous Seven, they are…what? Hold on a second, folks…” Chris Raynor leans over to Edwin and whispers in his ear, and Edwin lights up.

“They are the team of TNT and Frost…ladies and gentlemen…I give you…CHILLY CHILLY BANG BANG!” And with that, the crowd bursts into laughter, a sound deeply disharmonious with the rushing chords of “Toxicity!”

“And that, folks,” sighs Bobby Riley, “is why you NEVER give Edwin MacPhisto a microphone.” As Riley laments, the imposing figures of TNT and Frost appear at the ramp, Frost grinding his fist against his palm as he slowly stalks down the ramp, TNT by his side leaping around frantically and getting in the faces of every fans he passes.

“A somewhat unlikely duo from the M7,” remarks Stevens, “but two amazingly potent athletes nonetheless! One nigh-unstoppable giant, one explosive dynamo…the Carnival’s drawn quite the pair of opponents for their first defense!” The Carnies move off to their corner and start to talk as the M7 head to their own corner, eying the Carnies as if they were wild geese to be killed and turned into Christmas dinner. The referee motions to both teams, takes his place in the ring, and then signals the timekeeper…

*DING DING DING*

“Edwin and Raynor have their game faces on,” Mark notes, “and it’s pretty obvious to me that those two mean business tonight.”

“What kind of business, Mark? Will they be wheeling down a manatee to be the guest referee?” Riley retorts, smarmy as ever. “Face it Mark, these guys know they’re in way over their heads.”

“The World Champion and four-time tag team champion are in over their heads… riiiight.”

“What? It could happen!”

In Camp Carnival, Raynor and Edwin share a few words, then the Mac Daddy steps through the ropes. In the Magnificent Seven’s corner, Frost and TNT make note of this, and after much nodding and whispering, Frost steps up to meet the challenge. They meet center-ring…

“It’s not often Raynor meets an opponent bigger than he is… and tonight he‘s got two of them.”

Raynor, no shrimp himself, still has to look up half a foot to Frost, and they engage in a brutal staredown…

… that lasts all of two seconds before Raynor up and kicks Frost in the shin! “Oh come ON!” Riley protests, but nobody listens. Frosty hobbles away, muttering something like “Oh fu-” but before he can finish, Raynor saves the audience’s virgin ears by grabbing his arm and pulling him in for another kick, this one to the midsection - he doubles Frost over, then pulls him by the arm and launches him into the rop- no, reversal, and Raynor goes into the ropes! Frost puts his right foot back then kicks up, but Raynor manages to duck the big boot and keep running! He hits the opposite ropes and comes barreling back-

*WHAM*

“Ooooooh!” echoes throughout the arena, as Raynor is leveled with a disgustingly powerful clothesline!

“Haha! I love it, Mark!”

Raynor’s not so quick to get up on his own, so Frost kindly lends a hand. He jerks the Carny up by his hair and heaves him like a sack full of… potatoes? Yea, like a sack of potatoes into the nearby neutral corner. Raynor looks up groggily, trying to get the number of the truck that just hit him, but all he gets is a-

“Stiff right hand from Frost! Hey ref, check those fists!”

The ref is obviously more than a little intimidated, so he pokes his head in when he can to see if anything illegal is going on. Not much is going on, just Frost pummeling one half of the tag champs into oblivion. The referee finally works up his nerve and jumps between the two, citing the closed fists, and Frost backs off. Raynor takes a single step out of the corner, and promptly falls flat on his face.

“He pulled a Flair!”

“Riley! No entioning-may of the ompetition-cay!”

“No mentioning the competition? Why not?”

*sigh*

Frost looks down and actually breaks a brief smile at the sight of Raynor flat on the mat… then he stoops down and again drags the poor Carny up to his feet. Edwin bounces on the bottom rope while clapping, and the crowd takes little time to join in.

*CLAP… CLAP… CLAP… CLAP…*

Raynor is whipped into the ropes…

*CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP*

He comes back- ducks a second clothesline!

*CLAPCLAPCLAPCLAP- OOOOOH!*

Raynor is scooped up, spun around 180 degrees, and-

“Siiiiidewalk SLAMmed… into the first cover of the matchup!”

ONE!

TW- Raynor rolls his right shoulder up! Unphased, Frost clambers up off the mat and again grabs Raynor by the hair, but now he drags him over to the Magnificent Seven’s corner, and he tags in TNT. Obviously the more energetic of the two, TNT steps through the ropes and rushes the Carny, shoving him back into the ropes and immediately running in after him, and driving his shoulder down into Raynor’s midsection, and the ring shakes from the impact! TNT backs away and Raynor again falls out of the corner, doubled over and making a weird gurgling sound.

“Man, Bobby… maybe you were right - Raynor’s not often handled this way.”

“Of course I’m right! I’m ALWAYS right!”

“Except for every other time you bet against the Carniva-

“Leeet’s not get into that, Mark.”

TNT turns and grins at Frost, then turns back to Raynor and grabs him by his hair, tries to pull him up, but Raynor will have none of it. He remains firmly on the canvas in the fetal position. TNT grabs his arm and yanks, but Raynor just balls up and stays put! TNT pulls his foot back, aiming for Raynor’s stomach-

- as the foot comes hurtling towards him, Raynor’s arms shoot out and grab it! Then, in one smooth motion, he sits up and leg whips TNT over him, across the ring into the neutral corner! TNT is caught completely off guard, and Raynor takes advantage by quickly jumping to his feet and rushing the explosive one!

“Raynor was playing possum, and TNT walked right into a trap!”

“Raynor’s not that smart, Mark. This is all part of TNT’s clever plan… yea… yea, that’s it.”

Raynor fires off a hard knee to TNT’s midsection, a second, a third, then he takes him by the hair and slams the back of his head into the top turnbuckle! TNT slumps back in the corner, and Raynor climbs onto the second rope over him! Edwin turns around to face the crowd, getting ready to count along!

Aaaaaand…

“ONE!”

“TWO!”

“THREE!”

“FOUR!”

“FIVE!”

“SIX!”

“SEVEN!”

“EIGHT!”

“NINE!”

…

“TEN!”

With that, Raynor hops off the ropes while pulling TNT up over him and using his foot to monkey-flip him across the ring, to an enormous pop!

“TNT is no small guy, Riley, but Raynor just LAUNCHED him!” shouts Mark, smiling broadly. Riley sulks in the corner.

Raynor falls to his knees momentarily, the burst of energy having been expended - he pulls himself back up and staggers to his corner- Tag to MacPhisto! The Crown Prince of Flash and Panache hops right over the top rope and sprints for the recovering TNT. The explosive one just reaches his feet when Edwin’s foot comes crashing into his face, and he’s dropped right back down to the mat!

“Jumping sidekick from MacPhisto!”

TNT is back up quickly, but Edwin is fast on top of him, grabbing his arm and throwing him into the neutral corner. TNT hits, then stumbles out right into a SHOTEI~!

“World’s most irritating palm strike! Pelvic thrusting is optional, folks!”

“Thank God,” Riley mutters…

The strike doesn’t take TNT down, but it surely knocks the wind out of him - he grabs his chest and stumbles away into the ropes, trying to regain his breath, while the Mac Daddy plans his next move…which turns out to be a blazingly quick clothesline! The outstretched arm of Edwin MacPhisto topples TNT to the mat, and the Mac Daddy quickly drops to score his first cover of the night!

ONE!

T—and Thompson kicks out powerfully, shoving Edwin away and scrambling up to his feet. The bigger man braces himself for a second, and then explodes forward with a huge spear…but Edwin drops into a side roll and dodges, leaving TNT grabbing nothing but air! “The aggressive rookie TNT still needs to work on his pride,” laughs Stevens, “or a ring veteran like Edwin is going to run circles around him and his impulsiveness!” TNT turns and takes a heavy step towards Edwin, but the Mac Daddy rises off the mat and spins, drilling him across the chin with a standing roundhouse kick! TNT lunges again…and again Edwin gets him with the roundhouse! Now dizzied, TNT is easy prey as Edwin charges forward, spins, and drives a back elbow firmly into Thompson’s gut. “The Mac Daddy’s debilitating TNT with strike after strike—and here’s the headlock! Call the waitress, cause Edwin’s about to serve up a Midnight Special!” Riley groans at Stevens’s blatant favoritism, and Edwin, TNT in tow, takes two running steps forward, leaps, and spins his legs beneath TNT’s face…

CRUNNNCH!

…for a tremendous double-impact off the bulldog/facebuster combo! The crowd roars as Edwin seems to be in fine control, and, everlasting ham that he is, the world champion rises to his feet, turns to the crowd, and does a little pantomime! Edwin points to TNT, then turns back to the crowd and crosses his eyes while making the universal sign for choking, drawing a big laugh from all the—no, an enraged TNT rises up from behind and grabs Edwin by the waist and leg, jerking the unprotected champion up over his shoulder…and down to the mat with a spine-shattering back suplex! “Ha! That’s what you get, MacPhisto! Shows how much good your vaudevillian antics will do for ya! Let’s see you try to pull that crap in the Wargames cage!” Boos shower the ring as TNT clambers to his feet, aggressively yanking Edwin’s arm behind him and pulling the Mac Daddy to his feet. Edwin clutches at the small of his back with his free hand, still feeling the sting off the back suplex…and then feeling a whole new sort of sting as TNT tugs the captured arm and reels Edwin in for a sick short-arm clothesline! The double-champion flops straight down onto his back and TNT takes his turn at a cover! “That lariat knocked Edwin out fast and hard,” squeals Riley. “We could have new champs!” The ref drops to the mat…

ONE!

TWO!

TH—and Edwin gets the shoulder up! Pressing the assault, TNT pulls Edwin up, then drives a strong elbow into the back of his neck, then another, then…turns towards the M7 corner, and shoots a big grin towards a stone-faced Frost! Dragging Edwin behind him, TNT moves to his corner and gives his partner a thick tag, and Frost steps through the ropes with a deliberate intensity! The ref starts to count five, but TNT ignores him and stays in the ring. “M7 makes another tag, and in a shocking change of pace, the M7’s going for the numbers advantage,” mutters a deeply sarcastic Mark Stevens. With Edwin significantly stunned, TNT and Frost have little trouble lifting him up and then driving him down with a solid double-team sidewalk slam!

“Frost’s big sidewalk slam from before gets an exclamation point thanks to Taylor Nicholas Thompson!” calls Riley. “This may be the first time TNT and Frost are tagging together, but Mark, for all your Carnie bias, you’ve got to admit that these two power wrestlers have already proven themselves to be a lethal addition to our tag team division!” The ring shakes under the impact of 560 pounds pasting Edwin to the canvas, and the referee reaches the five-count just as they hit. TNT stands and finds the referee in his face, shouting at him to get out, and, feeling particularly nice today, TNT obliges, only snapping his jaws at the referee thrice before making his exit.

“I’ll give you the point about this impressive debut, Riley, but can Frost and TNT make a dent in our already deep division? Besides the two teams involved in this match, we’ve got the Clan squad of Tom Flesher and Fallout tearing it up, and earlier tonight we saw Jay Dawg and Lerrin Breggan make their tag team debut together! This division is getting more stacked by the day.” Frost clutches a chunk of Edwin’s hair and slowly pulls him off the mat, and in the Carnie corner, Chris Raynor tries to get another clapping rally started! The claps pick up in pace as the refreshed Frost pulls Edwin towards the center of the ring, allowing the Mac Daddy to stand…and the claps die out suitably speedily as Frost levels Edwin with a single left-hand haymaker!

“That’s what I’m talking about!” shouts Riley. “That’s the kind of sheer power that’s going to take Frost right to the top of this federation! Knocking down the world champ with one punch, ooh, it gives me chills, Mark, chills!”

“Greeeeeat, Bobby…” As Stevens does his best to ignore his rather exuberant partner, Frost pulls a groggy Edwin back to his feet, where he staggers a moment…before getting dropped again, this time by a brutal spinning back fist. “Devastating follow-through on the back fist from Frost,” comments Stevens, “and the big man is making a show of his power here.” With Edwin down on the mat, dizzied from the back fist, Frost places his heavy boot on the side of Edwin’s skull and bears down with all his weight, grinding the champion’s head against the canvas! Edwin screams out in pain, and Chris Raynor starts pounding on the turnbuckle, eager for a tag. “Only moments in the ring with Edwin and the giant Frost has already taken control. Edwin might only give up one inch in height to the Icelandic powerhouse, but he also gives up 60 pounds, and that 60 pounds is making the difference right now.” The ref urges Frost to get off of Edwin’s head, and the big man obliges, pulling Edwin up and driving a knee into his gut. Frost hooks a front facelock and snags Edwin’s waistline, then pulls back for a vertical suplex, holding Edwin at the apex for a good five seconds, letting the crowd’s jeers mount before twisting and falling to drill the Mac Daddy with a ferocious stalling powerslam!

“Huge impact from Frost, shaking Edwin’s lanky frame to the very core—and here’s the cover!” Riley is ecstatic as Frost applies the lateral press, and the referee drops to the mat…

ONE!

TWO!

T—no, Edwin throws his shoulder up before the count of three! “The champion kicks out,” remarks Stevens, “but if the challenger keeps this up, we may have ourselves the shortest tag title reign the SWF record books have ever seen! Frost is treating the world heavyweight and tag champion like a rag doll in there!” Frost once again pulls Edwin up by his hair, but this time Edwin tries to fight through, swinging jabs into Frost’s abdomen, giving himself some leeway to stand up…and start to sling his trademark snap kicks into Frost’s legs! One shot takes Frost’s right kneecap, the next his thigh, another back to the kneecap, and the right leg starts to buckle as the crowd starts to rally behind Edwin once more! Edwin shoots another kick—no, Frost powers up off the mat on his strong leg and snares Edwin in a two-handed choke! He quickly gets back on both feet and shifts his grasp to Edwin’s waist, then lets out a roar as he lifts the Carnival’s ringmaster over his head in a military press!

“MacPhisto’s gonna get a nosebleed up there!” snickers Riley, but before Frost can slam Edwin down, the champion wriggles himself off and escapes the hold, landing on his feet behind Frost and firing a shotei into his back to a huge ovation from the crowd!

Frost doesn’t move. At all.

“Oh, bloody hell…”

The Icelandic giant turns with a grunt and doesn’t even bother to grab Edwin in any sort of hold—he simply shoves forward with all his weight and sends the Mac Daddy crashing into the ring ropes back-first! “The Iceman cometh,” cackles Riley, “and he cometh to kick some ass!”

“Bobby, that was awful…”

“Oh, and your ‘better call the waitress’ bit from before was sooooo great, Mark…”

As the commentary team works out its issues, Frost barrels forward with an arm raised, sending all 296 of his nasty, mean, Magnificent Seven poundage into Edwin with a huge clothesline! The blow sends Edwin flying high, putting him nearly vertical as he flips over the ropes to the outside, and Frost turns away to gloat as Edwin splats—no, the crowd cheers as Edwin holds onto the ropes, dangling down over the apron before he pulls himself back up! “Big move by Frost, but Edwin saved himself, and Frost is in for a hell of a surprise when he turns back around!” shouts Stevens. The Icelandic warrior comes back around just as Edwin grabs the top rope, pulls himself up with one big hop, and springboards off the top rope to drive both of his ladder-laced Doc Martens into Frost’s chest, leveling the shocked big man with an amazing springboard dropkick from the apron! “What a move!” shouts Stevens! “What an amazing recovery from Edwin MacPhisto!” Edwin staggers to his feet and falls over Frost for a cover, while meanwhile, in the M7 corner, TNT has a mild shit-fit, shouting at the fans as they start to chant…

“CARN-I-VAL! CARN-I-VAL! CARN-I-VAL!”

The referee drops to the mat as the chant picks up steam, and Chris Raynor joins in…

ONE!

TWO—“WHOA!” Frost powers out of the cover explosively, shoving Edwin up and off with so much force that the Mac Daddy sails clear over the astounded referee! “Frost just blasted out of that cover with quite the head of steam!” comments Stevens. Edwin and Frost get up to their feet at the same time, and Edwin charges forward with a palm strike in an effort to get Frost off-balance, but the bigger man derisively slaps the palm away and locks Edwin in a two-handed choke! Instead of going for the military press, this time Frost picks Edwin up and stomps towards the nearest neutral corner…and throws him down face first across the turnbuckle for Snake Eyes! The Mac Daddy bounces off and barely holds himself up with the ropes, but before he can even get his bearings, Frost wraps his thick arms around him in a gutwrench, effortlessly lifting him up into powerbomb position!

“In the words of Ivan Drago from Rocky IV: Frost will break you, Edwin!” Riley gives himself a round of applause for the witticism, Stevens sighs, and the crowd gasps as Frost takes two thundering steps forward before releasing Edwin and lobbing him halfway across the ring with a furious throwing powerbomb! The Mac Daddy crashes down hard on his upper back and folds up like an accordion, his legs rolled up over his head!

“Frost’s showing utter disregard for Edwin MacPhisto’s well-being!” cries Stevens.

“Who cares? That was totally sweet!” The crowd is electric with aggression as Frost slowly storms across the ring, moving like an oppressive cold front as TNT eggs him on from the M7 corner. On the Carnie side of things, Edwin unwraps himself and uses the ropes as best he can for leverage, dragging himself towards his own corner and a hyper-extended Chris Raynor, just dying for a tag.

“Edwin really needs to get the tag to his friend and 4-time tag champion Chris Raynor, or he’s done for,” bemoans Stevens. Edwin gets within a few feet of the corner, but suddenly the huge sledge fist of Frost comes bearing down on his neck! Edwin’s arms and legs shoot out from beneath him, and Raynor slumps in his corner, deflated. “Frost’s been hammering away at Edwin’s neck and upper back all this time, with those brutal strikes, with Snake Eyes, with the throwing powerbomb, all of which leads up to one thing--”

“—the Early Winter! The most brutal powerbomb in the business!” shouts Riley! And, as if on cue, Frost spins Edwin around and rockets his right fist forward, pounding the Mac Daddy with a brutal heart punch! “There it is! There it is! The heart punch, the setup for the Early Winter! Shortest tag reign EVAR!” TNT is jumping up and down with excitement and Raynor is shouting feeble works of encouragement as Frost takes the stunned MacPhisto into a standing headscissors, quickly locking Edwin’s arms into a double underhook. The crowd roars with despair as Frost himself roars and gutwrenches Edwin up onto his shoulders…but before he can sit out, the Mac Daddy lets fly with a barrage of desperation punches to the skull! The crowd starts to cheer, and Mark Stevens is on the edge of his seat!

“Edwin’s fighting through! This isn’t over yet!” The Mac Daddy pounds away, an even the usually impervious Frost is feeling the effect of 10, 15, 20 jabs to the skull…and finally, Edwin scores a lucky shot to the left temple! Frost retracts his left arm from Edwin to try to regain his balance, and the Mac Daddy makes his move! He wraps his arm across Frost’s throat and, with all his might, kicks off of the giant’s shoulders, twisting out of the powerbomb hold to a roar from the fans…

…and swinging around Frost’s body, dragging the big man down headfirst with a swinging inverted DDT! The crowd explodes! Frost and Edwin hit the mat with incredible force and the back of the giant’s head pops off the mat sharply before falling back down! “SWINGING INVERTED DDT!” shouts Stevens! “Edwin escaped the Early Winter and put Frost down with that amazing reversal—AND HERE WE GO!” TNT’s flipping out once more as Edwin rolls off the mat and bursts towards his corner with all his remaining strength…and he make the tag to Chris Raynor! “Raynor’s in! Raynor’s in! The Carnival’s got control once again!” Instead of climbing through the ropes, Raynor immediately pulls himself up to the second turnbuckle, then the top turnbuckle, and then raises his arms to a huge ovation from the fans! He throws back his head, and:

“SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!”

With the most triumphant battle call to ever grace an SWF ring, Chris Raynor leaps off the top turnbuckle with a monstrous flying elbow, driving the point of his arm right into Frost’s chest with an impact that shakes the ring! “Flying elbow! Flying elbow!” cries Stevens! There’s not a fan in their seat as Chris Raynor hooks Frost’s leg! TNT can only look on in shock as the referee dives to make the count!

“Dammit TNT, do something!” Riley shouts in vain as the ref slaps the mat!

ONNNE!

TWOOOOOOOO!

THR—AND FROST KICKS OUT!

“FROST KICKS OUT!” Mark Stevens and the crowd are astounded! “Just moments after taking that remarkable reversal out of the Early Winter, Frost suffers a Chris Raynor flying elbow…and survives! This monster has got the strength of not one, not two, but a hundred Russians! He WILL NOT stay down!”

Raynor looks up, surprised, but doesn’t waste his time - he gets right back up to his feet and drags Frost up with him, then whips him to the ropes. Raynor then takes a step back and readies his foot - as Frost comes barreling back, Raynor kicks up with a-

“Big Boot- that hits Frost right in the chest!”

“HAH! He can’t even reach his head!”

Frost is knocked back into the ropes from the shot, hard of breathing but still on his feet. Raynor looks a bit exasperated as he nurses his leg, damaged somewhat from the kick… He shakes it off and heads over to Frost-

-who lands a HEEE-YUUUUGE right hand right into Raynor’s face! Raynor is knocked back and actually down to his knees before he can catch himself, and he quickly scrambles back to his feet - Frost is coming in with a clothesline, “No, Raynor ducks it,” calls Mark, his voice rising with tension… “Frost hit’s the far side and coming back- Raynor catches him - Inverted Atomic Drop!” Frost comes crashing down on Raynor’s knee, and he again falls back, but he still does not go down! Raynor grits his teeth and growls, and just as Frost reaches the neutral corner to rest, the Carny sprints as fast and as hard as he can and he lands a “SPEAR IN THE CORNER! SPEAR IN THE CORNER!”

“We heard you the first time, Mark!”

Frost is visibly a-hurtin’, but with his back to the post he’s still on his feet! Raynor grabs his arm and pulls him right into a short-arm clothesline - a second - a third - a FOURTH! Frost gets closer and closer to falling each time, but Raynor has had enough! He kicks - HARD - into Frost’s midsection, then drags him into a standing head scissors…

“Oh no…”

Starting as a low, deep rumbling, Raynor glares out into the audience and lets out a prolonged… “ssmmmmmaaaAAAAAAASH!”, and as the audience responds in deafening form, he wraps his arms around Frost and puuuuulls…

“There is no way, Mark.”

Frost’s feet begin to leave the mat-

“No WAY, Mark!”

They’re getting higher-

“Mark?!”

Raynor pulls Frost up onto his shoulders!!!

And promptly drops him back down, as he can’t hold him up any longer! The Smash-a-maniacs are audibly disappointed, but they quickly begin to support Raynor as he falls to his knees, in obvious pain. Frost is slowly, ever so slowly rolling for the ropes, and their respective partners are practically foaming at the mouth, with the match’s outcome now up in the air. Frost grabs the top rope, without bothering to use the lower two, and in one quick move pulls himself straight up to his feet! He sees Raynor, resting in the ropes, then turns to see TNT… Tag, or kill opponent… Tag, or kill opponent… decisions…

Kill opponent.

Frost snarls, and it only takes two long strides for him to reach his target. He jerks Raynor out from the ropes and pulls him in with a blatant choke, then heaves him one-handed into the neutral corner! Raynor bounces off the post and hangs limp in the ropes!

“Does he even NEED Thompson here, Riley? Frost is doing good enough on his own-”

-suddenly Raynor jumps out and grabs Frost around his legs and pulls, sending Frost down to his back! Raynor stands in between his upright legs, then roooolls backward and sends the monstrous Frost flying into the newly open corner!

“I spoke too soon! Slingshot to Frost! Raynor might have hurt himself from the attempted SMASH-

“Wow, that sounded dumb.”

“-but he’s not out of it yet!”

Frost stumbles out of the corner backwards, and he passes right over Raynor, who was kneeling behind him - with all his remaining strength, Raynor hooks Frost underneath the arms and pushes forward to slam him with a crucifix powerbomb!

“RAZOR’S EDGE! RAZOR’S EDGE, AND THAT COULD BE ALL!”

Raynor drapes an arm over Frost, and the crowd counts along!

“ONE!”

“TWOOOO!”

T

H

R

E

EEEEYESSSWAITJUSTAMINUTENNNNNNNOOOOOOO! FROST KICKS OUT! FROST KICKS OUT!

“Suck on that, Carnie-SCUM!” Riley shouts gleefully, as Raynor rolls off his foe and just falls flat on the mat. Neither man is moving at the moment, but just after the referee starts his 10 count, Frost rolls over on to his stomach… towards his corner…

“Frost has taken some serious punishment from BOTH of the Carnies - how he’s still standing is beyond me, Riley!”

Frost grunts, then throws his weight forward and rolls again closer to his corner! TNT is foaming at the mouth, practically tasting Raynor’s blood - but suddenly his sadistic grin turns upside down, and he frantically begins calling for Frost, as Raynor is now making the long crawl to Edwin! Edwin starts chanting “RAY-NOR! RAY-NOR!”, and the cry spreads like wildfire throughout the fans!

“But Raynor has got a much longer way to go to Edwin - Frost is almost there-”

“He IS there!”

*TAG*

TNT steps over the ropes and sprints to Raynor, just as the Carny pushes off the mat and makes a diving leap for his corner!

Will he?

Can heee?

…

TNT CATCHES HIS FOOT MID-AIR! Every single audience member deplores the sight, as TNT yanks Raynor back from the corner! Raynor lands on his chest and face, and TNT keeps his hold on Raynor’s foot-

Suddenly, Raynor pushes himself up onto his free foot, then jumps…and pumps his foot backwards into TNT’s stomach! TNT is caught totally off guard, and he lets go of Raynor’s foot! Raynor scrambles…and he MAKES THE TAG TO EDWIN!

“A BEAUTIFUL mule-kick counter from Raynor, and Edwin is in!”

TNT is staggering away, unaware of the tag - unaware, that is, until Edwin locks his arms around his waist from behind! TNT can sense what’s coming, but he doesn’t have time to do anything before Edwin, straining and sweating, manages to lift TNT right over his head and drop him right down in a German Suplex! MacPhisto opts not to bridge it, instead jumping to his feet and rushing the nearest turnbuckle! He skips the bottom two ropes and just jumps right to the top one, and as Thompson gets to his feet, Edwin jumps out and spins midair, bringing his elbow and back crashing into TNT’s face! The crowd is going absolutely NUTS! TNT is up to his feet quickly again, and he lunges for Edwin, but the Mac Daddy dives between his legs and springs to his feet behind Thompson, then puts his own back to Thompson and hooks the arms!

“Encore Cross! Edwin’s going for th-”

But Taylor bends down and pulls his arms forward, bringing Edwin flipping over him! Edwin is startled, and TNT capitalizes by clotheslining the bajeezus out of him!

“BOOYAKA! Take THAT, Edwin!”

“TNT had the Encore Cross well-scouted from the six-man tag just two weeks ago!”

TNT puts his hand up to his face, checking for blood - upon finding none he turns back to Edwin-

-and his left foot flying upwards! The Mac Daddy’s boot clocks Thompson in the face! He falls back, and Edwin kip-ups to get up to a HUGE reaction from the fans! He staggers over to TNT and fires a second boot, this one to the stomach, and then locks in an overhead-headlock!

“Edwin’s setting TNT up for the Spinal Tap!”

“DO SOMETHING, FROST!”

Frost is three steps ahead, already in the ring and charging! He clobbers the Mac Daddy on the back of the head with his monster of a forearm, and Edwin goes down! Frost turns around to check on TNT, but the roar of the crowd and the sound of barreling footsteps behind him stop him in his tracks! Frost turns, and the Icelandic giant pales as the thundering figure of a screaming Chris Raynor leaps towards him with a full-speed charge…

…TAKES FROST CLEAR OVER THE TOP ROPE WITH A SACRIFICE SPLASH!!!

“Good lord,” shouts Mark over the roar of the crowd, “Raynor just threw himself right into Frost! That was nothing more than a desperation attempt to get Frost out of the ring, and god damn did it work!”

Both Frost and Raynor land in a jumbled heap on the outside, Raynor a little more disoriented having just piled into the bigger man. Inside the ring, TNT is still dazed, but he makes a grab for Edwin-no, Edwin sidesteps! TNT spins around, and Edwin lets fly with a fazing right hook to the jaw! The dynamite warrior staggers forward…and that’s when Edwin grabs him from overhead and makes a run for the turnbuckle! He hops up—one rope!

Two ropes!

Three ropes!

And the Mac Daddy kicks off the very top turnbuckle, spinning around 180 degrees as he sails out…out…to land in a seated position and drive TNT’s jaw over his shoulder with a tremendous tornado stunner! “SPINAL TAP!” cries Mark, and Taylor Nicholas Thompson snaps back violently, sits perfectly still for the briefest of instances…and collapses to the mat! “SPINAL TAP TO TNT! THIS ONE’S OVER!”

Edwin crawls over, takes a deep breath, and hooks the leg! The referee drops down, but there’s motion outside the ring!

O

N

E

On the outside, Frost leans in under the bottom rope and reaches for Edwin’s leg!

T

W

O

T

H

R

E

E- FROST’S HAND REACHES EDWIN’S BOOT, BUT RAYNOR JUMPS AT HIM FROM BEHIND AND CRUSHES HIM INTO THE RING APRON!

THREE!!!!

“THE CHAMPS RETAIN! Edwin and Raynor retain the titles!”

“What a load of HORSESHI-

*DING DING DING*

Raynor grabs Frost by the arm and whips him into the steel stairs, then slides into the ring, not even bother to watch the-

*CRASH*

-impact! TNT is out cold on the mat, and Edwin is clambering to his feet when Raynor reaches him and pulls him up! The fans are marking hard and marking loud, so loud that “Love Rollercoaster” can barely be heard over them!

“Here are your winners… and STIIIIILL SWF Taaag Teeeeam Champioooons…. Chriiiis Rayynoorr and EEEEDWIIIIIIN MAACPHIIIIISTOOOOOOO!”

“Edwin and Raynor pull out a huge win over the Magnificent Seven’s rookie team, who put up one hell of a fight!”

“Yea, well, you just wait!” sneers Riley. “Ground Zero - WARGAMES - Who do you think will be laughing then, Stevens?”

“Wargames is a week away, Riley, and this is now! Listen to these fans!”

Edwin and Raynor are handed their belts, and in a manner not unlike drunk people, they stumble around the ring hoisting the gold up for all the world to see! They each take a turnbuckle, and the arena lights are outshone by the cameras from the audience!

“The Carnival is on top for now, and-

“YES! FOR NOW! MEANING NOT LATER!”

“-… and this has got to give them a huge boost of momentum heading in to the Pay Per View! Ladies and gentlemen, we are a little over a week away from one of the biggest showdowns in the history of this federation - and if tonight’s match was any indication, it truly will be nothing short of a WAR! For Bobby Riley, I’m Mark Stevens - goodnight, folks!”

As Stevens unplugs Riley’s headset for him, the cameras turn back to the bottom of the entrance ramp, where the battered and bruised Tag Team Champions have a post-match celebration with the fans. Raynor dives out over the guardrail, his upper half disappearing for a few seconds, while Edwin looks on, smile as wide as ever. He manages to pull Chris away from the hordes of beautiful women wanting to have his children, and the brothers in arms turn up to the stage and begin the long walk home…

July 20, 2002

Summary

- The top of the show shows us all something that we were already aware of…Tyler McClelland has some issues. Apparently, he’s just a little upset by the untimely death of his wife, although one would think he’s be used to it by now, seeing as how every woman in his life has met her ultimate demise while involved with him. What does this mean for the so-called Prophet.

- Who wrote that amazing into to the show?? Wow, whoever that was should be given some kind of award…or at least some money…or something…I think you all should offer him money as an appreciation for his great work.

Singles Match

“Deathwish” Danny Williams vs. Z

- Danny Williams is a mean man…as he just crushes the little man with a big heart, Z. Maybe if Z chooses to write every once in a while, we might see that big heart of his actually earn him a win. But, big heart or not, he gets the crap beaten out of him on this night.

- A little interview with Steven Blackman and Al Snow…er…I mean TNT and Frost provides a nice break in the action. Bang Bang Chilly Willy is in full effect, and as usual, Ben Hardy is on his ass. Don’t touch me Frost!

Tag Team Match

Jay Dawg & Lerrin Breggan vs. Ced Ordonez & Mercury

- Some painful tag team finisher puts down the league’s most no-showing couple. Breggan stays undefeated and this new Creative Control team begins it’s quest.

- Now, what the hell does ProphetCastClelland have up his sleeve now?!? Don’t fuck with Danny…he’ll bust out with a Tiger Driver ’93 on your ass and then…and then…OH…and then!

No-DQ Singles Match

Longdogger Pete vs. Tod deKindes

- And after a brutal match that involved a Dragon Suplex onto a steel chair, Tod is welcomed with open arms into X Force 9!! GO TOD…GO!! *Does a Pokemon dance*

- AND IT’S ON!!! WARGAMES BABY!! DOUBLE RING…DOUBLE CAGE…10 MEN! The Carnival’s 4…5 from the Mag 7…and THOTH!! THOTH!! Who, in grand fashion, comes out and kills everyone…just as he would in Virtua Fighter 4!

Singles Match

Spider Nekura vs. El Luchadore Magnifico

- Black Mist…Stigmata…and it’s over!! Spider picks up the win, but you can’t forget that it all happened because of one Tom Flesher’s distraction on the referee. Damn you…Damn you to hell!!!

#1 Contendership to the SWF World Heavyweight Title

Thoth vs. The Boston Strangler

Special Referee: Erek Taylor

- Well, in a surprise, Erek Taylor has an impact on this match. First an accidental kick to Taylor’s face from TBS sends the ref down…and Taylor doesn’t mind that so much. It’s the deliberate choke that he finds offensive, so he must put the big man in his place with Fame and Fury!! Thoth is your #1 contender due to blatant cheating from the face, Erek Taylor! Wait…a face cheated?? WTF?!?

- And somehow, miraculously, a promo appears out of thin air after the show has already been aired. Strangler gets 2 slaps from Thugg for not getting him the promo in time!

MAIN EVENT

Tag Team Titles Match

Midnight Carnival (Edwin MacPhisto & Chris Raynor) vs. Magnificent 7 (“TNT” Taylor Nicholas Thompson & Frost)

- And in a highly contested contest, the tag team champions are……STILL THE MIDNIGHT CARNIVAL!! Very close match, with Frost getting over like a mofo…but in the end, it was the Carnival showing why they are…the tag team champions. However, I wouldn’t be surprised to see both Frost and TNT make huge moves up the card after this one, as they put up one hell of a fight!!

This is the closest match I’ve ever had to mark!! TNT and Frost put together a wonderful match (that I hope they post), and were just edged out after I had to read both matches 3 times. Great work guys…*tips hat to TNT and Frost*

*Stubby is booking Smarkdown…no me! So don’t ask me. If you sent something to me about Smarkdown, I have sent it to him.*

SWF Storm - Friday, July 19th

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