20,594: the losin' thread

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

Here it is, in two post glory, the Carnival attempt at Wargames. Read the last 2000 words if nothing else, to at least get what I was trying to get across with Silent's debut.

 

Sorry, team Carnie. I let you down.

 

 

 

 

[Orientation: when referring to the caged area and the rings inside it, view is from the announce table. ‘Left’ refers to the left side of the cage as if looking down from the announce table, and ‘right’ refers to the opposite side. From this perspective, Ring 1, 1st Ring, and left ring all refer to the left ring, and Ring 2, 2nd ring, and right ring all refer to the right ring. Inside ropes refers to the set of ropes facing the opposite ring.]

 

BOOM!

 

BOOM!

 

BOOOOOOOM!

 

With a triple-tiered explosion of pyro, the punkish riffs of the Exploited’s “Lets Start A War” tear through the Key Arena for the final time tonight! Two rings stand erected side by side, perpendicular to the entrance ramp, giving the announcers a capable view of everything to follow…and the crowd comes alive as the sparkling steel hanging high above the ring finally begins to descend! The entire referee corps of the SWF is at ringside, striped shirts looking upward as the cage comes down!

 

“It’s coming! It’s coming!” shouts Grand Slam Mark Stevens. “We’ve been waiting all night for this moment—ladies and gentlemen, the Wargames cage is descending into position!” The cheers of the fans are explosive, and flashbulbs across the arena shine off the mammoth double-cage, as this twenty-foot high, two ring-wide, double-doored monstrosity lowers for the first time in an SWF arena!

 

“Mark, this is a monumental night in the history of the Smarks Wrestling Federation!” shouts Bobby Riley, seemingly fair-tempered for once! “Hell, even I, Bobby Riley, am sitting here in awe as this gigantic double-cage descends before me! Never since the days of the IGN Wrestling Federation, since the eve of the inaugural Triple Cage Match at 2001’s 13th Hour, have we seen a match that even comes close to what we’ve got in store tonight! For the first time ever: Wargames, here, for your viewing pleasure, in the S…W…F!” The atmosphere in the arena is electric, and as the Wargames cage locks into place around the two rings, its steel frame colliding with the black-painted concrete of the arena floor, the fans give a rousing cheer! “Lets Start A War” fades out, and the arena hums with anticipation as Funyon rises from his seat, bearing a microphone as he stands at ringside!

 

“Ladies and gentlemen of Seattle,” booms Funyon, “it is now time for SWF Ground Zero’s main event!” Another huge ovation from the crowd fills the stands, and even with the microphone Funyon must strain to be heard. “The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is to be fought under Wargames rules!” ANOTHER ovation!

 

“Holy hell, Mark!” quips Riley. “The match hasn’t even started—these people are popping for FUNYON at this point?”

 

“Wouldn’t you be too?”

 

“…well…yeah, I guess so!”

 

“To be declared the victors of the match,” continues Funyon, grinning ear-to-ear at the crowd response, “one team must force a member of the opposing team to submit, inside one of the two rings, inside the steel cage! Wrestlers may leave the cage at any time they choice, but submissions will not be counted unless they are INSIDE THE RING! There are no disqualifications! There are no count-outs! There are no pinfalls or knock-outs! There are no rules, ladies and gentlemen…but to win! We will begin with one representative from each team entering the cage. At the end of a five-minute period, the next member of the first team will enter, with further entrances occurring every two minutes! Once all ten wrestlers have entered the ring, the first submission wins! The teams are ready. The officials are ready. The CAGE is ready. I have only one other thing to ask, ladies and gentlemen…are YOU ready?”

 

Yet another explosive cheer fills the Key Arena, and with that…it begins! A rumble of lilting sound fills the arena…

 

“Entering first…”

 

…and the chugging riffs of System of A Down’s “Toxicity” tear through the speakers! The crowd boils over and their favorable reception turns cold! At the entrance ramp, explosions of pyrotechnics line up in sync with the brutal beats, and with every flash, a new silhouette appears at the top of the ramp!

 

“…weighing in at a combined 1,236 pounds, I give you Frost, “TNT” Taylor Nicholas Thompson, “Deathwish” Danny Williams, “The Dark Prophet” Tyler McClelland, and the team captain, Chris Wilson…they are the Magnificent SEEEEEEVENNNN!” Another explosive round of boos fills the Key Arena as the M7 team begins the trek down to the ring, Wilson leading the echelon, with Frost and TNT to his left and McClelland and Williams on his right!

 

“There are your winners! There they are!” shouts Riley. “I’ve never seen a more menacing group before! The only thing that could make them MORE imposing would be if all Seven of the M7 were able to compete tonight!”

 

“Don’t you mean six, Riley?” retorts Stevens. “In case you’ve forgotten, Stryke is gone, and this Magnificent Seven team is starting to falter!”

 

“Falter? FALTER?” screeches Riley, as the Seven make their way to the left side of the ring. “What are you talking about? The Magnificent Seven has EVERYONE in this fed on the breaking point! TNT and Frost are annihilating the tag division! McClelland’s going nuts, Danny is lethally pounding his path through the midcard, and Wilson…well, he’s Chris Wilson! What more needs to be said?” The Magnificent Seven reach ringside, and senior referee Matthew Kivell steps up from the crowd of referees, leading Captain Wilson and his cohorts over to the right side of the ring.

 

“The entire officiating staff of the SWF has turned out for this match tonight, and senior referee Matthew Kivell will be taking charge,” explains Stevens. “With the M7 and Carnival/Clan teams both at ringside, it’s going to be the officials’ job to keep them apart till the proper time. Kivell will be hovering inside the cage, outside of the rings, ready to count submissions when necessary.”

 

“Kivell’s getting in the cage?!”

 

“He has to, Bobby! How can we get a winner otherwise?”

 

“Sheesh, Mark. Braver man than I.”

 

On the outside of the cage, the M7, TNT and Danny Williams in particularly, take offense to being ushered around. As Kivell shows them the door and briefs them on the rules, TNT snaps his teeth at the senior referee and pushes his way past, getting the nod from Wilson as he steps through the open doorway and dives into the 2nd Ring! The crowd responds with a fair amount of boos as TNT struts about. “The Magnificent Seven have apparently already picked their man to start,” says Stevens, “and a good choice they’ve made in Taylor Nicholas Thompson.” TNT climbs the closet turnbuckle to give his customary shout of “KABOOM!,” and Mark continues. “At a moderate 267 pounds and with an aggressive style, TNT may be the most well-rounded grappler amidst the M7’s ranks--”

 

“Midnight Carnival…”

 

And as the arena lights drop out, the crowd goes nuts!

 

“And their opponents,” bellows Funyon, “weighing in at a combined 1144 pounds, they are Chris Raynor, Z, El Luchador Magnifico, Thoth, and team captain Edwin MacPhisto…they are…the MIDNIIIIIIIGHT CAAAAARNIVAAAAL!”

 

…

 

“Plus one!”

 

“They’re here, Bobby, they’re here! The Carnival is coming to town!” The Smarktron blazes white in time with the thick opening beats of “Love Rollercoaster”! A trio of blue laser lights spiral up off the entrance stage, tracing across the stands! The words “Rollercoaster of love” echo through the arena, and an oddly shaped silhouette appears at the top of the ramp…and as the refrain of “Love Rollercoaster” drops in, the ramp explodes in a wall of purple strobe lights, and the Love Rollercoaster itself comes bursting off the stage! “They’ve pulled out all the stops tonight!” shouts Mark Stevens! “The Carnival is here—the Love Rollercoaster is here--”

 

“—but El Luchadore Magnifico sure as hell ain’t! Bwa ha ha!” A further glance at the oncoming coaster passing by the hordes of screaming and dancing fans reveals only four men! Chris Raynor is at the helm, with a stone-faced Thoth by his side in the passenger’s seat. Z clings to the top of the coaster as usual, and Edwin stands in the tailgate, but El Luchadore Magnifico is nowhere to be found! Looking at Edwin’s expression as he rides the coaster, he’s obviously dismayed by the distinct lack of Magnifico. “It looks like Magnifico took too much of a beating in his Ultimate Submissions match with Tom Flesher!” cackles Riley. “Chalk one up for my boys in the M7!”

 

“Dammit,” mutters Mark, “damn, damn, damn. Magnifico expressed his doubt earlier in the night about being able to compete…but I know he’ll be here. I just know it.”

 

“He’s only got 20 minutes to show himself, Mark. I wouldn’t count on it!” The Carnies pull the Love Rollercoaster up the front of the cage and unload, and Kivell instructs a few of the officiating staff to wheel the coaster off to the side. He leads the Carnival over to the left side of the cage, and as they pass by, the remaining officials form up to create a holding pattern on the ramp and announce sides of the cage. “Pussies! If the M7 want to perforate the Carnival outside the ring, that’s their prerogative! It’s inevitable that they win anyway!”

 

“Why do you say that, Bobby?”

 

“The M7…they weigh more! Duh!”

 

As Riley presents his oh-so-scintillating case, the three Carnies and Thoth confer. In the ring, TNT runs back and forth in the 2nd ring, shouting at the Carnival to get their asses in gear. The Carnies and Thoth suddenly back off into a square…hold out their fists…and Edwin counts three!

 

“One…two…three…shoot!”

 

“It’s rock-paper-scissors to pick the first man in!” laughs Stevens. The crowd gets a kick out of it, and on the call of shoot, it’s…

 

Edwin with rock!

 

Thoth with rock!

 

Chris Raynor with rock!

 

And Z with…scissors!

 

Z’s face pales, and he shouts at Edwin! “No fair! You guys set that up!”

 

Edwin grins. “Yes, yes we did. Now, go to, little man.” Raynor gives Z a reassuring pat on the back, Thoth shrugs, and many a fan chuckles as Matty Kivell pulls the left door open for Z!

 

“Z? Z?!?” cries Riley. “They’re fielding Z for their first man? You’ve got to be kidding me!”

 

“Z’s actually not a bad choice, Bobby!” replies Stevens, as Z climbs into Ring 1. “He may not be the most technically skilled wrestler, but he has a lot of endurance and a lot of heart, enough to go bell-to-bell in this match. If there’s anyone who can plain and simple survive a beating from the first two M7 wrestlers, it’s Z.” Stevens pauses for a moment as Z takes his place in the ring. “And…uh…submissions don’t count till everybody’s in the ring anyway. Go, Z, go!”

 

In Ring 1, Z paces back and forth, stretching out his arms. In Ring 2, TNT shakes the ropes, revving himself up. Inside the cage, standing between the rings, Matty Kivell takes his position.

 

Outside the cage, the two rival teams watch their lead-off men with eager eyes. Outside the guardrail, into the stands, the fans wait with baited breath.

 

Inside the cage, Matthew Kivell calls for the bell.

 

DING, DING, DING!

 

A digital read-out on the top of the Smarktron lights up at 5:00…and then ticks to 4:59!

 

“We are officially underway!” shouts Mark Stevens! The crowd gives a huge roar, Z grins, and likewise, a chant begins for the Jersey wonder!

 

“CARN-I-VAL! CARN-I-VAL!” The Carnies outside the cage grin and start to cheer Z on, and from his position in the left ring, Z gets a load of confidence! He points towards TNT, still in his own ring, and beckons with his hand for TNT to bring it, all the while shouting “Yeah! Come on, TNT! Come get some! Come get some from the Z-ster!”

 

Across the tiny gap between rings, TNT steps through the ropes and works out a very large, loud kink in his neck.

 

Z promptly shuts up.

 

TNT hops across the small crevice, then steps through the second set of ropes. He rises to his feet slowly, stalking Z as the newest Carnie backs off, bracing himself and sizing TNT up. Suddenly, TNT looses his rather tense pose, and…offers a handshake?

 

“Don’t do it, Z,” warns Stevens.

 

“He’s just being a good sport!”

 

Z looks out to the crowd, who roar with disapproval…but Z’s too nice. He steps forward, eager to see that TNT’s just as excited about this match as he is, gives Thompson his hand…

 

…and, unsurprisingly, eats a short-arm clothesline. Outside the cage, Edwin, Raynor, and Thoth all simultaneously slap their foreheads and sigh as TNT laughs and pulls Z up off the mat. “Z’s naïveté bites him in the BUTT again,” comments Stevens. “One minute down, and TNT and the Magnificent Seven are in control.” Stevens trails off as TNT yanks Z into a hard kneelift, then another, fazing the naïve Carnie. With Z stunned, TNT pulls him into a standing headscissors and immediately laces a double underhook, but before he can fire off the powerbomb, Z shoots up and backdrops him over! “TNT got a little cocky there: Z may be a bit of simp, but he’s tough simp, dammit!” Mildly frustrated as he scrambles to his feet, the Explosive One gets up just in time to block an incoming Z right hand. TNT fires back with one of his own…and connects! Z swings, but TNT blocks and retaliates again! Now TNT presses the attack, hammering Z backwards with alternate hooks, staggering Z into the ropes! TNT presses Z against the ropes hard, choking him out for a moment, then pulls him off, steps forward, and whips the Carnie across the ring! Z bounces back and Thompson goes for a clothesline, but Z ducks and runs the ropes. Z bounces back one more time, this time with a clothesline of his own—no, now it’s TNT’s turn to sidestep! Z hits the ropes one more time, but TNT follows closely, and almost immediately after Z rebounds the Dynamite Warrior scoops him and crunches him into the canvas with a sideslam! The crowd deflates, and so do Z’s lungs!

 

“TNT’s power is, plain and simple, too much for Z right now!” decides Riley. “I can’t wait to see what happens when we go 2-on-1 in favor of the M7. They won the coin toss, so in about three minutes Z’s going to be getting beaten down even more heavily, if you can believe that!”

 

In the ring, Thompson rises to his feet and flexes his arms, shouting out a bold “KABOOM!” as he stands over the fallen Z, boot firmly lodged across the Carnie’s throat. He grabs the top rope for leverage and grinds back and forth with a blatant boot choke, but all Matthew Kivell can do is stand idly by and let this no-disqualifications match run its course. The crowd boos, and so, of course, TNT presses harder! Edwin MacPhisto starts for the Carnie-side cage door, but a pair of referees get in his way and point to the clock. “This is the danger of the Wargames match,” says Stevens, “and something we’ll probably see a lot of tonight. If you can successfully isolate one of your opponents, it’s a long distance both inside and outside the cage for his teammates to travel for help. There’s only two men in right now, but TNT is taking full advantage of his five minutes alone with Z.”

 

“Five minutes alone? Isn’t that a Pantera song?”

 

“I hear Raynor really likes Pantera…”

 

The clock keeps ticking, and TNT keeps choking, finally letting up after Z stops resisting. Across the cage, Chris Wilson gives his teammate a light applause, and back in the ring, TNT accepts the recognition with a big grin. He pulls Z up off the mat by the back of the neck, dragging the Carnie’s throat across the top rope as he walks him to the turnbuckle. Meanwhile, Z flails helplessly. Upon reaching the corner, TNT pulls Z’s head back…and slams it into the top buckle! The crowd boos, and TNT does it again! TNT pulls back for a third smash, but this time Z gets HIS hand up on the back of TNT’s neck, then drives HIM forward into the buckle! “Z’s got a reversal!” shouts Stevens. Z smashes TNT once again!

 

“Smashing someone’s face into the turnbuckle is NOT a reversal,” fumes Riley. Fed up, TNT spins out of the corner with surprising speed, clocking Z across the chin with a right-hook before locking a two-handed choke around the Carnie’s already-worn throat! He aggressively shoves out of the corner, holding the choke and pushing Z towards the center of the ring…and violently yanking Z off the mat, holding him a foot off the ground! “TNT’s got amazing strength—he can manhandle anybody smaller than him!” TNT gnashes his teeth at Z and preps for a two-handed choke bomb, lifting high…and suddenly firing off a high-pitched squeal and dropping the Z-ster as his target’s boot sails stiffly into his nether regions! The crowd pops huge as Z falls away, unharmed, and TNT staggers away in a squealing walking fetal ball!

 

“Low blow! Galatea Special! Another brilliant reversal from Z!”

 

“God dammit, Mark! You can’t call that a reversal either!”

 

“I just did!”

 

“Did not!”

 

“Did too!”

 

“Did not!”

 

“Did TOO!”

 

In the ring, Z scrambles to his feet, grinning and pumping his right arm hard. TNT meanwhile finds his way over to the corner and opens his eyes just in time to hear the roar of the crowd and see the arm of the Z as the Carnie rockets forward and pastes him into the corner with a big ol’ Arm Grenade! The stiff lariat knocks TNT senseless, and an eager Z takes him by the arm and whips him the full length of the ring to the opposite corner. TNT hits back-first, and Z plows after him and leaps, this time pounding TNT into the corner with a big splash! TNT starts to slump in the corner, but Z quickly grabs a front facelock and pulls him out of the corner, cinching his waist and lifting him up high! The crowd pops, and Stevens calls it! “Generic Vertical Suplex Of Unfathomably Evil Proportions! That’s quite a lift on TNT!” Z holds him in the air, and lets out a shout!

 

“Doctor Z’s diagnosis…SMAAAASH!” The crowd cheers wildly and Chris Raynor beams with pride as Z falls back and crunches Thompson into the mat, shaking the ring! Z scrambles to his feet and quickly spins, pumping his fist in the air and soaking up the cheers of the crowd! “Z’s taken charge, and the fans are going crazy for the newest Carnie in these opening moments of Wargames!”

 

“Z! Z! Z! Z! Z! Z! Z!”

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!

 

Z looks up, and the counter on the Smarktron reads 0:00.

 

On the Magnificent Seven side of the cage, Frost turns to Chris Wilson. Wilson smirks and nods, and the Icelandic giant turns to face the door as a pair of referees pull it open. “It’s Frost,” shouts Riley, “it’s going to be Frost in next for the Magnificent Seven! Chilly Chilly Bang Bang has got Z all to themselves!” The crowd boos as Frost, wearing a loose muscle shirt, steps in and the Smarktron timer resets to 2:00 as the newest addition to the cage circumvents the right ring entirely, heading straight for the left where his tag partner is currently in the clutches of Z. Z holds TNT in a headlock and wails away on his back with heavy fists, keeping a fearful eye on Frost as the big man climbs into the ring. Frost takes one step forward…and stops. He reaches a hand up to his back, down the back of the shirt…and there is a strange sound, like that of…electrical tape?

 

“What the hell—oh, no way! No way!” The crowd fires off a huge roar of boos and Z’s jaw drops as Frost tears something free, wincing slightly…and producing TNT’s aluminum baseball bat from inside his shirt, covered with little hanging-on pieces of electrical tape! “They taped the bat to Frost! They snuck it into the cage! I can’t believe this!” Z releases TNT and charges Frost, trying to take him out fast—

 

CRAAAAAACK!

 

--and Frost sends a huge one-handed swing of the bat right into Z’s ribs! The Carnie collapses forward, and outside, his three teammates are on the cage, banging away and shouting as the refs pull them off! TNT rises as Z falters, and Frost nonchalantly flips him the bat. TNT catches it, grins…and charges forward, sending another swing into Z’s gut! “The Carnies are pissed off, and rightly so!” shouts Stevens.

 

“Why?” snaps Riley. “It’s a no-DQ match! Anything goes!”

 

“Still! Two massive men and an aluminum bat? Z is at a horrible disadvantage right now!” TNT gives Z a firm one-handed shove, and Z staggers away, wobbling about in the center of the ring like an-about-to-be-Finished Mortal Kombat character. TNT shouts to his tag partner, and the Chilly Chilly meets up with the Bang Bang, each man taking an end of the aluminum bat. “No, don’t do this!” shouts Stevens, but to no avail: TNT and Frost barrel forward and clothesline Z right across the forehead with the metal bat! The crack of bat on skull echoes out into the arena, drawing quite a few shudders, and when Z sits up, blood is already streaming down his forehead! The Carnies are in a frenzy on the outside, and Chris Raynor immediately drops everything and runs over to the announce position!

 

“Z’s the first to bleed!” shouts Riley. “But what the hell is Raynor doing?” Raynor exchanges a few word with Funyon, and Funyon quickly gets up…and Raynor takes his chair! The pissed-off Carnie stomps back to his side of the ring and looks up at the clock: 45 seconds! “Put that chair down, Raynor! You can’t go in there with that!”

 

“Frost went in with a bat! Raynor can take whatever he likes!” In the 1st ring, Frost pulls Z up, then sends a spinning back fist into his bleeding face! Z staggers away…right into another bat shot to the back from TNT! TNT jams the bat into Z’s ribs, then backs off as Frost motions to him. Frost extends his arm…and barrels forward with an absolutely monstrous lariat, flipping Z over a full 450 degrees, thin trail of blood streaming behind him in the air! “Hell Freezes Over—my god, what a clothesline from Frost! The clock is down to 30, but I don’t know if Z can survive that long!” TNT tosses the bat aside, then he and Frost both start to stomp away on the prone Carnie, shuddering his body with their big boots, but outside the ring, the other Carnies are arguing! Edwin grabs the chair away from Raynor and shouts at him, telling him that he can’t go in there!

 

“Dissention among the ranks!” squeals Riley!

 

“I don’t think so!” retorts Mark. “As team captain, Edwin has to keep everything in order! Raynor’s already wrestled once tonight, so is stamina is questionable—if he gets in there with Z, will he be a help, or just another body?”

 

The timer hits 15…and Raynor grabs the chair back from Edwin, shouting at his leader! Edwin turns away and throws his arms into the air, frustrated. Inside the cage, Chilly Chilly Bang Bang lays off the stomps, and Frost bends, pulling Z up…into a standing headscissors! “No!” cries Stevens, and the crowd boos as Frost and TNT jointly double underhook Z’s arms! “We’ve seen this before! Double-team Early Winter! That powerbomb will break Z in half! Only 5 seconds left, come on Z, hold on!”

 

Chilly Chilly Bang Bang hoists Z up into the air…

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!

 

The crowd roars, and the referees throw the door open and Chris Raynor starts in—no, Edwin MacPhisto shoves him out of the way and grabs the chair right back! The crowd pops huge as Edwin dives into the cage, the door slamming shut behind him and blocking Raynor from entering! “Edwin’s in! Edwin’s in! The world champion and Carnie-Clan team captain just brought himself into this match!” The Mac Daddy dives into the ring to a huge cheer and rockets forward, slamming the chair straight across the waists of Frost and TNT! Chilly Chilly Bang Bang staggers backward and loses their grip on Z! The newest Carnie falls, about to land straight on his neck—no Edwin gets himself in the way and breaks the fall, barely staying on his own feet as a bloody Z falls aside safely! “Edwin MacPhisto blocks the double-team Early Winter—and HERE HE COMES!”

 

CLAAAAAANG! Chair shot for TNT! He staggers, but doesn’t fall!

 

CLAAAAAANG! Chair shot for Frost—same deal! Edwin swings for TNT again—

 

CLAAAAAANG! And now Thompson falls! The crowd roars, and Edwin turns back for a second on Frost—

 

CLAAAAAANG! But the giant stays up! Edwin rears back a third time—

 

--and Frost punches the chair right back into Edwin’s face with a resounding BONG!

 

“Frost just walked right through two chairshots, my god!” Stevens has a conniption as the world champion collapses beside TNT, Frost stepping over him, bending down…and taking an aluminum-aided shot to the side of the face as a bloody Z snags the discarded bat and takes Frost OUT! Z is the only man still standing, blood running down his cheeks, and the crowd goes nuts! He staggers over to his leader, and with an extended hand, pulls Edwin MacPhisto up off the mat! The chants begin anew!

 

“CARN-I-VAL! CARN-I-VAL! CARN-I-VAL!”

 

“Listen to the crowd, Riley! This has got to be one of the most exciting matches we’ve ever seen!”

 

“Yeah, but look outside the ring! Raynor’s pissed!” On the Carnival side of the cage, Chris Raynor punches the side of the steel monster, obviously pissed at Edwin tricking him. Thoth pulls him off and gradually starts to talk him down, explaining the logic behind Edwin’s decision. Raynor shakes his head, but slowly starts to nod and calm down. The other side of the cage, however, is a different story. Chris Wilson is having quite the hissy-fit, screaming at Tyler McClelland!

 

“Raynor might be a little miffed,” says Stevens, “but Chris Wilson is genuinely enraged! I don’t think he counted on the Carnival Captain getting in there so soon! There’s no way Edwin was going to leave his newest recruit hanging, though!”

 

“Yeah, the guy who brainbusted Jay Dawg four times and nearly killed Lerrin Breggan with that piledriver powerbomb on Smarkdown saves the day…real nice guy, Stevens.” Mark ignores Riley, and in the ring, Edwin and Z stumble over to TNT, pulling him off the mat, sharing a front facelock, and grabbing his waist to pull him up, over, and down with a big double team suplex! The Carnies pull themselves up by the ropes and the crowd roars, but Frost is back on his feet and charging towards the Carnies a half-second after—no, Z and Edwin duck, present their shoulders, and lift the charging Frost up and over with a double back-body drop over two sets of ropes into the second ring!

 

“The Carnival is cleaning house, and they just sent the giant Frost clear into the other ring! The first time the second ring has seen any action,” Mark notes, “but with 40 seconds until the next entrant, it won’t be too long until it’s seeing plenty more!”

 

“What are those idiots doing?”

 

Riley nods his head to Edwin and Z, who have rolled TNT onto his back. Z takes both of Taylor’s arms and traps them behind his own legs, then rolls TNT over onto his knees…

 

“Oh, for the love of-

 

“It’s a the Nelbina!”

 

Z is mounted on TNT’s back, and in the worlds silliest submission move EVAR~!, he puts his 14 inch pythons up and POOOOSEEEEES! The crowd goes absolutely nuts as he pulls out crotch chops, flexes, points, even a break dance move all while balancing on TNT’s ever-running-out-of-patience back!

 

“Z locking in the Nelbina, and bringing on the pain!”

 

“Pain my ass, Stevens! That’s just embarrassing!”

 

Z rolls off of TNT, who breathes a heavy sigh of relief-

 

-then winces as the weight of Edwin MacPhisto now balances on his back! The Crown Prince of Flash and Panache locks in the hold, and proceeds to go to town with a slideshow of poses all his own! Z looks on and nods, duly impressed-

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!

 

“Time for the third M7 member-”

 

“Wow,” Riley notes, “he’s in a hurry.”

 

After downing three officials before the buzzer even ended, “Deathwish” Danny Williams dashes through the door and into the caged area! Edwin has his back to the newcomer, and Z is still hyping up the crowd alongside his partner as Williams slides into the ring!

 

Mark sighs, and says “Oh lord, this isn’t gonna be pretty.”

 

Z turns around and walks right into a clothesline, that sends the poor rookie into a complete mid-air 360 before crashing to the mat! Edwin takes a hint and releases TNT, but Williams is on him too quickly - he grabs Edwin by the arm and whips him into the inside ropes. Edwin comes running back and ducks a clothesline, but on his return Danny throws his elbow out and catches MacPhisto right between the eyes! The World Champion snaps off the elbow down to the canvas, and neither he nor Z are in a hurry to get up.

 

“Deathwish Danny Williams,” Riley says, oozing suck-up-iness. “Possibly the most talented of all the recent bumpees, because he can take a guy like Edwin out with a fargin’ ELBOW.”

 

About this time, Frosty is stepping between rings, heading back into the fray (or what’s left of the fray). He nods to Danny, then heads over to take care of Z while TNT rolls away from them all to recover. Danny grabs Edwin and shoves him violently into one corner, and Frost tosses Z into the opposite. He holds Z upright with one massive hand, then brings the other one down across the Z’sters chest in a HUGE open-hand chop, that reverberates throughout the arena! Z collapses, or tries to, but Frost grabs him by the neck and puts him back on his feet. Across the ring, Danny is driving quick elbow-strikes all over Edwin - below the chin, between the eyes, all sides of the face - by the time he lets up, to put it simply, Edwin has been knocked silly. Danny turns around and barks a command to Frost, who nods his head. Each M7’er takes his Carny by the hand and yanks them out, whipping Edwin and Z right to each other! Edwin shouts “DOWN LOW!”, and Z ducks as Edwin jumps over him, and the two run right into the opposite opponents-

 

“-and into tandem clotheslines!” Mark is forced to shout, as the BOOOO! from the crowd is reaching new heights. “Fifty seven seconds for the Carnival’s new man in, but from the looks of things it’s gonna be a two on one!”

 

“Correction, Marky Mark - THREE on one!” Riley snickers as he points Mark in the direction of TNT, who is up and walking, or at least stumbling, under his own power. Edwin is crawling toward the ropes-

 

“Like a coward!”, shouts Riley…

 

-but that is stopped quickly enough as Frost takes him by the foot and draaaags him back to the center of the ring. He flips Edwin onto his back-

 

-and once there Edwin lifts the chair off his stomach, winds back, and-

 

*CRACK*

 

“Edwin had the chair underneath him! THAT’s what he was crawling for!”

 

Frost is dazed enough to let go, but not enough to take any more than two steps back - meanwhile, TNT takes a running kick and launches the chair from Edwin’s hands! It crashes against the side of the cage and falls to the floor between the steel walls and the ring! Frost grabs Edwin by the arm and pulls him up and into a short-arm clothesline, driving him right back down! Across the ring, Z is lying on his stomach, arms tucked beneath him. Williams comes up from behind and pulls him up by his hair-

 

*WHOOSH* and *THUNK*

 

-Z whirls around and clocks Danny on the side of the head with the Aluminum bat! Williams stops cold, blinks a few times, then falls completely limp to the mat, and now blood begins to trickle down HIS face!

 

“Good LORD, Riley, what a shot that was - Danny’s the second to shed blood, and may be out cold!”

 

“But Chilly Chilly Bang Bang isn’t!”

 

Z whips around and swings the bat wildly, but TNT manages to duck before he kicks Z in the gut, steps around to his side, hooks the leg, “Russian Legsweep!” calls Mark, and Riley cackles with delight-

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!

 

And before anyone can say or do anything, Thoth dives into the cage’s doorway and slides under the ring ropes! TNT hears all the commotion, and turns around just in time to be leveled by a High Leg Clothesline! Frost drops what he’s doing and runs for Thoth, arm extended- Thoth ducks a clothesline and keeps running for the corner-

 

A chair suddenly rises up from the mat, from Edwin MacPhisto’s hand! Thoth grabs it mid-sprint and keeps running, into the corner, then jumps onto the second turnbuckle and springs off! In midair, he throws the chair forward and Springboard Dropkicks it right in the face of Frost! The giant is driven back into a corner, and there he collapses into the lower ropes to a might pop!

 

“WOW!” shouts Stevens, again being forced to shout louder than the crowd, “Talk about teamwork!”

 

TNT is rolling and crawling, but a well timed chairshot from Thoth drops him right back down to the canvas! Edwin and Z are both up to their feet via the ropes, and there’s a very quick exchange of ideas between all three men. Another look of shock on Z’s face as his partners pat him on the back, then both step through the ropes and hops to the floor outside! Z looks absolutely aghast as his partners head around to Frost, grab his feet from under the ropes, and drag him to the outside as well!

 

“Hah! Z has been left on his own to deal with TNT and Williams! Nice knowin’ ya, kid!” Riley gleefully denotes.

 

Outside, Edwin and Thoth drag Frost unwillingly to his feet. They each take an arm and a step forward, then puuuull, Irish Whipping Frost across the arena floor and-

 

*SMACK*

 

-into one of the cage supports! Frost tries to back out, but Thoth piles into him from behind, driving his head into the support again! The Clanny holds the dazed giant in place as Edwin hops up onto the ring apron… lines up his sights… and runs along the edge! On his last step he springs, and his feet drive Frost’s head back into the support for a third time!

 

“Running dropkick to the head, ending a beeeee-yootiful chain of moves!”

 

Thoth releases his deathgrip of Frost’s waste, and Chilly falls straight back onto the mats! The camera man gets dangerously close to zoom in on him, and “It looks like we’ve got our THIRD bleeder!” crows Mark, not entirely sad that Frost is the victim.

 

“Damn it damn god damn damnit son of a bitch!”

 

“Quite the wordsmith you are.”

 

Inside the ring, TNT and Danny have been steadily recovering, as Z has been following the outside battle this entire time! He still has the bat, but TNT’s got the chair and Danny’s got a score to settle! Taylor stalks toward his target, winds up-

 

Edwin turns to Z see staring, googly eyed, at Frost. “Z!”

 

The Zedster snaps to attention, then sidesteps a chairshot that hits the ropes and comes back into TNT’s face! Taylor drops the chair and staggers backwards, holding his bloodied forehead - Z whirls around and swings at Danny‘s midsection, but misses, and he accidentally lets go of the bat! It flies downward toward the canvas, or more accurately, toward TNT‘s-

 

“OOOOOOOOOOH!”

 

“Hang on guys! Fifteen more seconds!”

 

On the outside, Wilson is absolutely livid at what just happened with Z, and he begins barking out orders to Danny, who unfortunately is unable to comply, as Z downs him with a Blizzard of Oz from behind!

 

“Superkick straight into the back of Danny’s head - Z is holding his own!”

 

“And even HE can’t believe it, Mark!”

 

Indeed, Z seems stunned that he was capable of lasting more than three minutes in the match - a broad smile breaks out across his face-

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!

 

“GO! GO! GO!” Wilson and Riley shout simultaneously, and The Dark Prophet himself sprints through the cage door! He springs around and leaps onto the apron of ring # 1, and just about that time, Z gets a clue and slides out of the ring!

 

“The chase is on!” shouts Mark as Outcast springs over the ropes on the other side, and he chases Z around the rings! They make it all the way back to where Edwin and Thoth are pounding on Frost, and not wanting to lead danger that way, Z dives back into ring #1-

 

*THUNK*

 

-and is promptly leveled by a now recovered Danny Williams and an aluminum bat!

 

A little ways away, Edwin and Thoth are doing everything in their power to keep Frost down and are failing miserably. The giant shrugs off their punches and kicks, and with a massive roar he charges forward - Stiff clothesline knocks Edwin down on the floor! Thoth climbs up to the ring apron and looks like he’s going to jump for Frost, but Outcast jumps onto the apron as well! Thoth turns in time to see but not dodge spinning heel kick, and the Clanny is knocked down to the floor! A yard or two away, Frost grabs Edwin by his throat and lifts him, one handed, up off the floor! He uses his other arm for leverage, then runs and drives Edwin’s back into the cage support! Still holding him by the throat, Frost drags the Carny away from the cage, and in a display of downright scary strength, he tosses Edwin up and over the ropes, dumping him into Ring #2, then rolls in after him!

 

“Man, that guy is unbelievable!”, exclaims Riley. “He just tossed Edwin over the top, like a… a bag of light things… which can be tossed easily.”

 

Mark stares blankly at him for a moment, before declaring “Wussiest. Heel Commentator. EVER.”

 

Back in ring one, TNT and Danny Williams are dismantling poor Z with chair shots and bat shots to the ribs - Z is doubled over, absorbing obscene amounts of pain. Danny and Taylor talk amongst themselves for a moment, then TNT walks to the ropes and climbs over them into Ring #2, while Danny grabs Z and rolls him onto his stomach, grabs his leg-

 

“-what’s he- Danny’s cinched in the elevated Single Leg Crab! The first submission attempt of the match!”

 

Raynor, the only left in Camp Carnival, is banging on the side of the cage providing shouts of encouragement, but despite his best efforts, Z isn’t able to escape! Raynor’s eyes shoot back and forth between his partner and the timer, his partner and the timer…

 

… fifty two seconds…

 

Outside the rings, Thoth is taking it to Outcast in a full-out BRAWL. Wild punches, chops, palms, kicks, a flurry of strikes fire off in every direction, and Thoth quickly overpowers the Dark Prophet. He grabs two handfuls of Outcast’s hair and drags him to the cage wall, and right in front of Chris Wilson, Thoth rakes Outcast’s face against the mesh! ‘Cast struggles violently, but Thoth knees him in the back and continues rubbing his face raw against the steel! The crowd explodes as Tyler McClelland flails, and Wilson looks on, fire in his eyes, the same fire staring back from Thoth’s… he finally relents, and Outcast falls to his knees, now the fourth person to lose blood.

 

Inside the right ring, Edwin has been getting absolutely decimated on a double team from TNT and Frost. Chilly Chilly Bang Bang each take an arm of the World Champ and heave him into the ropes - poor Edwin is powerless as Frost takes him up and over - in an absurdly high back body drop that sees Edwin clear seven feet before flipping and taking the long fall down to the canvas! TNT is already mounted on the second turnbuckle, and as Edwin slams against the mat he leaps off, and drives the point of his elbow across the Mac Daddy’s chest!

 

Z has begun a desperate crawl to the ropes in an equally desperate attempt at getting some leverage… but Danny puts up a fight, and with some effort he manages to drag Z back into the middle of the ring, wrenching the single-leg crab higher! Poor Zed is pounding the mat-

 

“TAP OUT! TAP OUT!”

 

“Uh… not quite, Riley.”

 

-and writhing in agony, and he looks to be fading fast! Raynor pounds on the steel cage, and his eyes lock with Chris Wilson’s from all the way across the arena floor - Wilson’s cocky smirk just enrages him all the more!

 

Twenty-eight seconds…

 

Back on the outside, Thoth takes the mildly bloodied Outcast by his hair and drags him around towards the steel steps. A few yards away, he takes ‘Cast by the hand and Irish Whips him -

 

*CRASH*

 

-and the stacked staircase topples over! Outcast dazedly sits up, the back of his head to the ring apron… Thoth walks back until his back is to the cage wall, then guns for Outcast and drives a wicked knee into his face, driving it back into the ring apron! “Shining Wizard Invincible kneelift from Thoth!” shouts Stevens, “sandwiching the Prophet into the ring!” Not giving Outcast any time to rest, Thoth takes him up by the arm and Irish Whips him again, this time right into the cage, on the other side of which is Chris Wilson! Thoth lets a grin crack involuntarily before attending to business.

 

In Ring #2, TNT takes Edwin by the arm and whips him into the inside ropes-

 

-but Edwin, instead of turning into them, dives right over them! He clears the two sets of ropes and lands on his feet, bailing away from Chilly Chilly Bang Bang as he goes running for Danny…

 

… well, he tries to, anyway. Frost’s massive hand grabs Edwin’s hair from behind before he can take a single step forward, and he’s dragged kicking and screaming back into the second ring! “Tear him up, Frost--”

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!

 

“DAMMIT!”

 

“Raynor’s in! Raynor’s in!”

 

“SMASH SMASH SMASH SMASH SMASH SMASH!”

 

The crowd raises the chant as Chris Raynor mows through the crowd of officials and into the ring! He zips right past Outcast and Thoth, diving straight into ring number one! He jumps to his feet and snatches the chair, dives forward-

 

*CRACK*

 

“BRUTAL chairshot to Danny’s head, and he releases the hold! Z is freeeee!”

 

Danny lets go of the hold and falls forward into the ropes - Raynor holds the chair up and runs at him, and just as Williams turns around a second hit knocks him over the top rope to the outside! Raynor turns around to check on Z-

 

-in the second ring, Edwin reverses an Irish whip, sending TNT into the inside ropes! Raynor catches sight and charges forward, and as Taylor hits the inside ropes, Raynor swings the chair-

 

*CRACK*

 

-into the back of his head! “Chris Raynor’s cleaning house with that steel chair! It’s 4-on-4 now,” shouts Stevens, “and the Carnies are pulling ahead now that Raynor’s leveled half the M7 team!” TNT stumbles forward, and Edwin manages to hit a desperation DDT, shaking Ring 2! Edwin pops back up and ducks an oncoming Frost, and before the big man can turn around, MacPhisto springs up and delivers a spinning enziguri to the side of Frost’s head! The giant goes tumbling down! Raynor grabs the chair from nearby and tosses it to Edwin, before heading back to check on Z.

 

“And The Carnival looks to be in firm control of this match!”

 

Wilson, the only guy still on the outside, is absolutely beside himself! He tries to charge the door, but the officials block his way and point to the timer!

 

1:19...

 

Raynor is down checking on Z, when the young upstart grabs the ropes and pops right back up to his feet! Raynor looks absolutely stunned as the bloodstained visage of Z just grins back at him, and the crowd is eating this up! Z points eagerly down at Danny, practically jumping up and down, and Raynor just shrugs, and the two of them go out to take him on!

 

“Check out the second ring, Bobby! Frost and TNT have found out what it’s like to be on the receiving end of an ass kicking!” The crowd roars as Edwin rips into Chilly Chilly Bang Bang! Currently Frost is propped up in the corner, and he takes the last of a half a dozen shotei Palmstrikes to the-

 

Oh, there he goes, down to the canvas.

 

Edwin taps his toe into Frost’s ribs, checking for signs of retaliation…and seeing none, he takes a step and stands on the back of the giant, then raises the roof to an unbelievable pop!

 

“Edwin, the proverbial giant killer!” crows Mark, as Wilson looks on - he is absolutely tortured at the events going on in the cage, and again he dives into the crowd of officials, but again they hold him back! Edwin takes a quick survey of his own surroundings - Z and Raynor’s heads are visible across the floor, and Thoth has Outcast on the run… er… stumble… after a vicious set of knife-edge chops!

 

:59...

 

Raynor suddenly breaks away from Z and Danny, dashing over to the corner of the cage. He then yells to Z, motioning with his hands - Z nods and drags Danny to his feet, takes him by the arm, Irish Whip right to Raynor! The tag champ takes a step forward, ducks down…and back drops Williams six and a half feet upwards, sending him right into the cage! Williams collides with the steel mesh then drops straight down, landing on his side!

 

“The Carnies are all on the same page here,” notes Mark, “which is more than I can say for Wilson and his bunch.” Wilson is pacing like a caged animal (ironic, ain’t it?), muttering and swearing and gesturing all to himself…

 

:41...

 

Z and Raynor share a quick high-five, then grab Williams and simultaneously pull him to his feet. Meanwhile, Outcast is still stumbling away from Thoth, drawing him all the way towards the M7 cage door! It's at this point that Thoth finally catches up with 'Cast, grabbing him by the shoulder and spinning Outcast around to face him! Thoth throws a punch, but Outcast surprisingly blocks it, coming back with a kick square to the Clannie's crotch! Thoth doubles over in pain as thousands of fans wince simultaneously. Outcast then grabs Thoth by the shoulder and head and pulls him towards the cage door. 'Cast stands in front of the door for a second, then suddenly charges forward and throws Thoth in front of him, slamming him head-first into the cage door! The door sags upon impact and the two young referees holding the door shut are nearly knocked off, which seems to give Outcast an idea as Thoth falls to the hard floor, cradling his head in pain. Outcast waits behind him in a crouching position, apparently waiting for Thoth to get back to his feet. “Those refs can’t hold the door!” cries Stevens.

 

After a few seconds, Thoth starts getting back to his feet, climbing on the mesh to get up. Finally, Thoth stands and unwittingly turns around to come face-to-face with Outcast, who suddenly breaks into a charge! As he approaches Thoth, 'Cast throws his body into the air, driving his head directly into Thoth's gut with a Spear! The force of the two men crashing into the door knocks the guarding referees away and bursts it wide open, drawing a surprised OHHHH! from the fans as both men tumble outside the cage!!

 

"Outcast just blew the door wide open!" shouts Stevens as Riley covers his ears. "This match has spilled to the outside!”

 

"It doesn't matter at this point," counters Riley. "Wilson, the only wrestler who still needs to enter, will be in soon enough, and then it’s time for the Finishing Touches on those bastard Carnies!”

 

"What about Magnifico?" questions Stevens, suspiciously.

 

"Mark, will you just give it up with him already?! ELM is not participating tonight, I guarantee!" shouts an agitated Riley.

 

:19…

 

As soon as Wilson sees both men come out of the cage, he swiftly moves towards them, shoving his way through a throng of referees shouting vague threats at Thoth and Outcast. “Wilson the ring general,” sneers Stevens, taking control on the outside…” As Outcast slowly stands, Wilson barks an unheard command, prompting a submissive nod from 'Cast. Outcast approaches Thoth, grabs him by the arm, and pulls him up to his feet, while Wilson stands behind the Clannie, unraveling something from his pocket.

 

“Yes! Yes!” squeals Riley. “I knew we’d see it!”

 

“What are you—aw, no!”

 

Once Thoth is standing, Outcast holds him up as Wilson approaches Thoth from behind and slowly draws his hands over the Clannie's neck! Suddenly, Wilson pulls his hands backwards and crosses them, causing Thoth to grasp at his throat in pain as Chris pulls back harder and harder on the piano wire!

 

"Dammit! He's not even supposed to be in the match yet!" states Stevens righteously.

 

"Yeah, so what's your point?" offers Riley. "It's not like anybody can do anything about it."

 

:08…

 

Outcast begins kicking away at Thoth's completely vulnerable gut as the Clannie collapses under the pain, falling to one knee as his face starts to turn a light blue. A sick smile on his face, Wilson continues to viciously choke Thoth until the Clannie falls to the ground, gasping for breath as Outcast continues to kick away at him. With a flick of the wrist and a reel of his wire, Wilson hears a rush of boos, looks up at the giant timer, and the smile on his face only grows wider.

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!

 

"That's it!" Riley proclaims, "Say your prayers, dirty Carnie-folk, because Chris Wilson has entered the match!"

 

Chris motions for Outcast to follow him before entering the cage and quickly heading towards Ring Two, where Edwin is still doing an admirable job of holding off Frost and TNT! Wilson and Outcast simultaneously slide into the ring just as Edwin pops TNT in the mouth with a Springing Sidekick, shooting him back to the ground next to Frost! “Edwin’s making do with two, but he’s got four men on him now! Turn around, Edwin, turn around!” But Stevens’s words fall on deaf ears! Edwin throws his hands into the air, but then suddenly clutches at his throat as Wilson stealthily comes from behind MacPhisto and wraps the piano wire around his neck! As Edwin gasps for breath and attempts to get a hand between wire and his throat, Outcast steps in front of him and begins bashing his face in with an amazingly fast set of punches!

 

“I guess you could say Edwin’s between a rock…and some piano wire!”

 

“…Bobby, that made ZERO sense. Watch the match!”

 

The Prophet’s blows do well to lower Edwin's resistance as the commentators banter: he falls to one knee under the pain! Outside of the cage, Z takes notice of these events and desperately calls out to Raynor, who is currently stomping away at poor Deathwish. Raynor looks up, sees Edwin being choked to death, and his expression pales…and then flares into a look of rage! He immediately breaks into a sprint, bursting down the aisle with Z close behind him, heading straight for Ring 2 and sliding beneath the bottom rope as Edwin falls to the mat! Raynor roars as he charges at Wilson and bashes him in the back of the head, forcing eVil Chris to relinquish his grip and sending him stumbling forward! Meanwhile, Z sprints right past Wilson and heads for Outcast, letting out a loud cry and lashing out with his arm! 'Cast is taken by surprise and absorbs the full force of the Arm Grenade, getting knocked into the air and spun around by the force of the blow!

 

1:22…

 

"Raynor and Z make the save!" exclaims Stevens, relieved. "It looked like Wilson was trying to flat-out kill Edwin!"

 

"And the world would have been better off for it!" growls Riley. "Anyway, Z and Raynor will get theirs soon enough. They're in that ring with four members of the Mag Seven, if you've forgotten, and the Carnies haven’t even tried a submission maneuver yet short of that stupid-ass Nelbina 10 minutes ago!"

 

“There’s no time for finesse right now, Bobby—with 9 men in that ring, brutality is the order of the day, especially when you’re a man down! The Carnies are going to have to wait for Magnifico before they can get on the submission assault!”

 

“Shut up about Magnifico! You saw what he went through—he’s not coming out here, period!”

 

A “CARN-I-VAL!” chants starts up as Z grabs Outcast by the arm and quickly pulls him to his feet, while Raynor grabs Wilson by the arm and spins him around. Z and Raynor simultaneously whip their foes, sending Outcast and Wilson rushing towards the far ropes. The Carnies get ready to attack on the rebound—but unfortunately, they seem to have forgotten about TNT and Frost, who rise back to their feet just behind our heroes! As Outcast and Wilson rush back towards Raynor and Z, Frost suddenly grabs Non-eVil Chris around the waist from behind, while TNT does the same to Zed! Chilly Chilly Bang Bang lift their opponents up simultaneously before falling backwards…and slamming Z and Raynor into the canvas with Double German Suplexes to the supreme displeasure of the crowd!

 

“Did you hear that? Did you hear that?!” shouts Riley. “Frost and TNT just broke their backs! Edwin’s down! Thoth’s down! All the Carnies are down! This is heaven!” TNT and Frost get back to their feet and begin a massive stomp-down, laying the boots to Z and Raynor and, as Wilson and Outcast skid to a stop, they join in! “It was brave of Z and Raynor, I'll give them that, but they've ultimately screwed themselves AND their team on this one. With these odds, the Carnies need men on their feet at all time!”

 

"Uh huh, and I'm sure this situation was achieved under the fairest circumstances." Stevens retorts, raising an eyebrow. "I'm sure some madman with a piano wire didn't come close to killing two people!"

 

1:03…

 

"So am I. Seriously, do you have a point?"

 

Stevens sighs veeeery loudly.

 

Outcast, Wilson, TNT, and Frost, continue their stomping, then stomp a little more, then stop, allowing TNT and Frost to drag the limp Carnies to their feet. Wilson surveys the ring, grinning widely as he notices a distinct lack of Edwin or Thoth coming to save their teammates. Thompson, being a gentlemen as usual, gives Frost first pick…and Frost chooses Z. Frost grins, then grabs Z by the legs and drags him into the middle of the ring. The rest of the stable backs away, giving Frost some space as he cranks back on Z’s legs once, twice, drawing a cry of pain…and then lifts! Frost begins to spin around, still gripping Z by the legs. Frost's spinning slowly gets faster…and faster…and faster, as he lifts Z, the momentum of the spin keeping the Carnie in mid-air! Frost suddenly shouts an angry shout, and releases the legs, sending Z twisting into the air with a Giant Swing!

 

…into the air and over the top rope, that is: Z crashes directly into the cage! The fans OHHHHH! in unison as he falls to the floor with a sickening thud, leaving a trail of crimson on the steel where his face impacted! Inside the ring, Wilson, Outcast and TNT applaud Frost and make impressed noises as a proud smile creeps onto the giant's face.

 

"Oh my God!" cries Stevens, "Z was thrown completely out of the ring and into the cage by that monster, Frost!"

 

"Hey!" shouts Riley, "Just because you're jealous of Frost's freakish strength is no reason to call him a monster! Icelandians have feelings too, y'know!"

 

As Riley shouts, it becomes TNT's turn, as he hits the facelock, then hoists Raynor upwards and locks him into a Suplex position. TNT pauses a moment for dramatic effect, then lifts Raynor directly into the air, holding him perpendicular to the mat for a Brainbuster! T aylor keeps Raynor up in mid-air for a very long time, impressing and distracting the Mag 3 so much so that none of them notice Thoth sneaking into the ring and grabbing the discarded, blood-stained chair! By the time Wilson does see Thoth with the chair—

 

“Thompson, behind you!”

 

--it's too late, as the Clannie comes up from behind TNT and slams the steel seating object into his back with a deafening crack! Taylor releases Raynor, who falls harmlessly to the mat…and TNT eats another chairshot, this time to the back of the head, which sends him sprawling to the mat! Wilson shouts at Outcast and Frost to attack, motivating the two men to charge directly at Thoth! The Balancer rolls right to dodge an Outcast Clothesline, then gracefully spins around and drives the chair downwards, slamming it directly into 'Cast's skull! Outcast falls limply to the mat, contorting as Thoth whirls back around, the vision of a blood-soaked, raging Barishnokov, just in time to see Frost charging at him! The Icelandic man throws his foot into the air for a Big Boot, but Thoth spins out again and launches the chair sideways, slamming it directly into Frost's knee edge first! Frost cries out and falls to his non-chair-shotted knee, allowing Thoth to raise the chair high over his head…and slam it against Frost's! Frost drops sideways to the mat, the blood now flowing more freely from his skull. Thoth grins, and the crowd goes wild at the Balancer’s fit of violence! Sent into a hyperactive rage of adrenaline, he spins around to meet his next opponent, knowing that only one man could be behind him…but a furious hris Wilson sidesteps towards Thoth and throws his foot into the air, slamming it directly into the Clannie's face! The crowd OHHH!s in disappointment as Thoth limply drops the chair and falls to the mat, his hand on his chin! Wilson shouts an unheard expletive at the man who took out his followers, not even noticing Edwin rising to his feet and sneaking up behind him! The crowd roars…and now it’s Wilson’s turn to unwittingly turn around into danger! He comes face-to-face with MacPhisto and tries to fire off a punch, but Edwin delivers a straight boot to the gut, doubling eVil Chris over! Edwin immediately applies a front face lock and then takes a violent spin to the left, twisting Wilson's neck and slamming it into the mat with the Sound Check! The crowd pops wildly as both men lay motionless on the mat, side-by-side.

 

"Sound Check! Sound Check!" asserts Stevens, "MacPhisto has taken Wilson out with the Sound Check, but he took himself out too, and everyone is down!"

 

"Except for the luckiest son of a bitch in there, Chris Raynor," points out Riley, disgustedly.

 

:16…

 

True to Bobbi's word, Raynor is finally back to his feet, an amazingly shocked look coming over his face as he sees the carnage strewn out before him. As he scratches the back of his head, Raynor seems to forget about Danny Williams, who, after a long session of spitting blood and wiping it from his eyes, is finally back in the cage and sliding into the ring right behind him! Chris hears a certain shuffling as the blood-caked Williams stands up, and Chris turns around to see what's happening. “The lethal Deathwish is back in this match!” screams Riley, oblivious to the fact that half of the fans at home think he just spouted off a silly oxymoron. (The other half think the glass is half-empty.) As soon as Danny sees the whites of Raynor's eyes, he lashes out with a sharp elbow, slamming it directly into the side of Chris's face! Raynor’s head snaps back with a crack, but this is only the start of a scintillating set of elbows, as Deathwish drives six more into Raynor's temple and jaw with the Elbow Combo o' Doom! With Raynor completely dazed from the successive elbow strikes, Danny rears back and delivers one final blow, knocking Raynor to the mat! The crowd breaks into boos as Danny stands triumphant over Chris, and everyone else for that matter, before dropping to straddle Raynor’s back and cinch on a back-mounted chinlock! “Danny’s got another submission--”

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!

 

The crowd pops…and deflates. Mag is nowhere to be seen. Danny's frame of mind is suddenly broken by the annoyingly loud buzzer, signaling the entrance of the final competitor…who doesn't happen to be here at the moment. Deathwish grins, and pumps the chinlock harder as Raynor flails!

 

"Hah!" laughs Riley, "Hah! What did I tell ya? Magnifico isn't coming, and Deathwish has Raynor in the chinlock after pounding his face in with all those elbows! From this point on, submissions are valid, and if Deathwish stays on him, we might have our winners ASAP!”

 

Williams yanks away at a groaning Raynor’s neck, shouting “Give up you little sack of shit!” when suddenly, a roar echoes out from the crowd! Danny looks up…and catches a glimpse of El Luchadore Magnifico, barreling down the ramp, limping all the way, carrying a Mexican flag in each hand! The crowd explodes as Magnifico staggers towards the cage with everything he’s got, a look of determination painted on his face! "He made it!" announces an ecstatic Stevens! "Magnifico actually made it down here!"

 

“Well, shit.”

 

In the 1st Ring, Williams immediately rises up off of Raynor and releases the chinlock, leaving Raynor groaning. Deathwish braces as Mag staggers up to the cage door, teeth gritting in an iron gaze. Magnifico locks his eyes on Williams, at his bleeding visage, at the crumpled, seething heaps of already broken bodies littering Ring 2…Magnifico takes all of this in…

 

…and steps through the door.

 

The crowd goes absolutely, totally, one hundred percent: apeshit.

 

“Everybody’s in!” shouts Stevens! “Let the games begin!”

 

“Screw the games, Mark—this is WAR!”

 

Danny, rivulets of blood drying from his raked-open face, is motioning Mag forward with the universal "bring it" gesture. ELM does, in fact, "bring it", as he slides beneath the ropes of the ring and quickly pops to his feet. He flips his flags once in each hand, drawing a pop from the crowd. Deathwish cracks his neck, grins…and charges towards him! Danny lashes out with a Knife Edge Chop…which Magnifico ducks under! The crowd roars for every movement of the broken Luchadore—he then turns around to face Williams, dropping one of his flags in the process. Danny spins around to face ELM, which cues luchadore to lift the Mexican Flag high over his head…

 

“Danny, duck!”

 

--and then drive it downwards, breaking the thick pole directly over Danny's head with a resounding SNAAAAP! Williams limply falls to the mat as Magnfico disposes of the broken flag half in his hand. ELM reacquires his other flag and turns around, just in time to see TNT rising to his feet and coming through the inside sets of ring ropes! Magnifico, fresh for all his injuries, charges towards Taylor, holds up the flag, and drives it sideways into TNT's head! Now this flag breaks in two as Taylor falls to the canvas, splints of wood and drips of blood flying off of his head as he drops, finally busted open! “Two flags, two men down!” shouts Stevens. “Magnifico’s only been in for 30 seconds and he’s already made one hell of an impact—he just busted TNT wiiiide open!”

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

ELM disposes of the second flag as well, catching a glimpse of Frost rising to his feet as he does so! Magnifico, perhaps with suicide or noble sacrifice on his mind, approaches the Icelandian and lashes out with a Knife-Edge Chop! WHOOO! goes the crowd as Magnifico rears back and delivers another one! WHOOO! ELM grabs thee giant by the arm and attempts a whip, only to have it reversed--Frost sends Magnifico rushing across the ring…but ELM hits the ropes, bounces off, and rushes back towards Frost on the double! As he approaches, Magnifico suddenly leaps into the air, extending his arms and legs and throwing himself into Frost's chest with a Flying Cross-Body! A few yells of TIMBER! go up, obviously from the lumberjacks in the audience, as Frost falls to the mat! Magnifico pops back to his feet, totally pumped up…but is immediately brought crashing back to Earth, as Outcast drives his foot into the back of the luchadore's head with a Wind Kick! ELM falls face-first to the mat as the crowd boos the sudden lack of luchadore.

 

"Where the hell did he come from?!" shouts Stevens. “Mag was doing so damn well!” The crowd deflates as all the downed warriors start to stagger back to life, slowing Magnifico’s amazing run…

 

"Well, if you were paying ATTENTION, you would have clearly seen him getting up right after the Flying Cross-Body and sneaking him behind Magnifico. Duh. As Mag might say, cause he’s Mexican and all, abre los ojos, perra.”

 

Outcast looks out over the collection of wrecked, slowly rising bodies for a second, a dastardly smile on his face, before slowly turning around…and coming face-to-face with one kneeling Edwin MacPhisto! Edwin revels in Outcast's surprise for a second, and as Cast spins with a roundhouse, Edwin ducks, then surges upward, THEN raises his hand and smacks Outcast twice across the face, before spinning around and lashing out with his foot, driving it directly into 'Cast's face with a Roundhouse Kick! Outcast falls back to the canvas, hand on his chin, a victim of the Cocktail O' Shame! However, all is not well, as Wilson has now reached his feet also! “Everyone’s had a rest, and business is starting to pick up again!” He quickly approaches Edwin from behind, hoping to catch him by surprise, but is unsuccessful: the alert MacPhisto suddenly spins around and drives his palm forward, slamming it into Wilson's chest with a Spinning Shotei! Knocked back by the force of the strike, Wilson stumbles backwards, before falling to the canvas and bailing out of the ring! Wilson staggers backward and leans against the cage, regarding his soldiers and wondering just what the hell to do as Thoth rises and wails away on the Prophet.

 

With a sharp grin on his face, Edwin rolls out of the ring and goes after Wilson, heading around the ring in the same fashion as Wilson did. However, Edwin is suddenly cut off when the unexpected roadblock called Frost rolls out of the ring and steps onto the floor directly in front of him! MacPhisto pauses for a second, before driving forward with a Shotei! The beaten Edwin swings slowly though, and Frost sidesteps one, then another, then counters by throwing his fist forward, slamming it directly into Edwin's heart with a Touch of Frost! MacPhisto gasps a short puff of air and falls to one knee, leaving himself defenseless as Frost grabs both of Edwin's arms and applies a Standing Head-Scissors, competing the setup for the Early Winter!

 

"Yes! Frost is about to take MacPhisto out of commission!" shouts Riley. “If he hits the Early Winter onto the concrete, Edwin’s neck’ll be softened up for the Platinum Nightmare…or the Short Fuse, or the Deathlock! I’m wetting myself, Mark!”

 

"Hold on a second, Riley! Raynor is back on his feet!" Stevens points out, pointing at the now-standing caveman.

 

As soon as Raynor stands, he catches sight of Frost, ready to finish Edwin off with the Early Winter! Chris suddenly bolts for the ropes furthest from Frost, bounces off, and rushes back towards the Icelandian as he lifts Edwin into the air! It’s almost Tiger Driver time…but Raynor suddenly slides to the mat as he approaches the ropes, kicking his feet out and slamming them into the side of Frost's head with a Baseball Slide! Frost releases Edwin as he is knocked into the cage wall by the force of Raynor’s boots! Edwin still lands on the back of his head, but not as forcefully the Early Winter would have planted him. Still, he cradles it in pain as Raynor slides onto the ring apron. Frost starts to stand, and Raynor gives a bold cry of “SMAAASH!” drawing a big pop from the crowd! “What’s Raynor gonna do here…” wonders Stevens…

 

…and Raynor answers by leaping off the apron with a big double axehandle!

 

…

 

…and getting very nonchalantly caught by Frost! “The big man’s got him, the big man’s got him!” squeals Riley! Frost lets out a roar and lifts Raynor high as the Carnie thrashes and flails, to no avail!

 

“Frost’s manhandling Chris Raynor, but—OH!” And Frost’s eyes bug out and Raynor falls away as Edwin MacPhisto dives in from behind Frost with a huge low blow! “The Mac Daddy repays Raynor for his save with one of his own!” Raynor rolls out to his feet as Edwin cinches Frost into a tight dragon sleeper—the Mac Daddy gives Raynor a grinning nod, and then falls backward to drill Frost with the dragon sleeper Russian legsweep into the concrete! Edwin and Frost hit with a resounding crack, and both men are down and writhing! Raynor spins away from the carnage, catching a glimpse of TNT weakly recovering from the flag shot, a glimpse of Deathwish dragging Magnifico out of Ring 2 and into the wide-open Ring 1, a glimpse of his pal Z slumped over in the corner off the airplane spin…and most importantly, a glimpse of Chris Wilson leaning against the M7 side of the cage! The Rayn Man flashes on Wilson’s cowardice and starts to head down the side of the rings—

 

“Chris, look out!” The sputtering warning of Z alerts Raynor to a shadow coming in from the right—the Prophet Tyler McClelland with a big plancha! Raynor skids to a stop, throws his arms up…and catches in the incoming Outcast before flowing through leveling him with a huge powerslam into the cage!

 

“Holy shit!” cries Mark Stevens. “Outcast just got pasted onto the cage, and he’s squirting blood all over!” The Prophet slides down the cage, leaving splurts of blood in his wake…and Thoth follows, landing right on Outcast’s body with a cannonball senton from Ring 2! A minor “HOLY SHIT” chant starts as Thoth mounts up and hammers away at Outcast’s bloody mug! Raynor brushes himself off, only to see Wilson now darting from his position on the cage and towards Z! The Evil Chris stomps away at the prone Carnie and Z shudders under the impact, and Chris Raynor rockets forward with a burst of rage! He lets out a roar and leaps—Wilson dives away towards the cage door, leaving Raynor to splash into the steel! He staggers off and shakes off the impact just in time to see Wilson shoving the cage door open and bailing outside the superstructure! “What a coward! Wilson’s bailing to the outside--”

 

“—he’s not bailing, Mark! He’s baiting Raynor! Raynor’s the freshest Carnie in this thing since Mag already wrestled 30 minutes tonight—if Wilson can neutralize him outside the cage, what a boon for his team!” Raynor looks around inside the cage, assessing the situation…Edwin and Frost staggering back up, TNT sliding out of the ring to help Frost with Edwin, Tyler McClelland a crumpled, bloody, neck-clutching heap, Danny Williams and Magnifico exchanging figure-four leglocks in Ring 1…and Raynor goes for it!

 

“I don’t care what you say, Bobby—Wilson’s a coward, and Raynor’s about to give him what-for!” The crowd pops huge as Chris Raynor powers through the mass of officials and pursues Wilson to the outside—but Wilson’s waiting! He barrels forward with a big right hook—no, Raynor ducks and hit s a big fist of his own, blowing Wilson into the guardrail to another huge cheer! Wilson begs off, and Raynor steps forward, and Wilson shoots down and catches him with a drop toehold! Raynor takes a header into the guardrail! Wilson picks Raynor up to a big roar of boos, dragging him out of the corner and locking a full-nelson!

 

“Platinum Nightmare! Platinum Nightmare! Platinum Nightmare on the concrete, and Chris Raynor’s finished!” Riley is ecstatic, but Raynor is fighting through! He powers backwards with all his might and avalanches Chris Wilson into the outside of the steel cage…but Wilson holds on! Raynor shakes and thrashes, but can’t quite break out of the full nelson. “It’s over! It’s over!”

 

And suddenly, the crowd pops. Wilson looks around. He doesn’t see anything. Then, he looks to the ramp.

 

He lets go of Raynor, and becomes absolutely scared shitless.

 

"IT’S MERCURY! Mercury is charging down the ramp, steel chair in hand!" shouts Stevens, and the ovation is deafening! The brawling in the ring is getting brutal, with Frost and TNT ramming Edwin’s face into the cage repeatedly, but all eyes are on the outside as Mercury quickly closes the distance to Wilson!

 

"What the hell is he doing here?"

 

"He's down here to get revenge on Wilson!" shouts Stevens. "Mercury must be furious at how Wilson insulted him earlier in the evening—he must have been waiting for a chance at Wilson all night! Wilson’s little bait-and-switch on Raynor just got turned around on him!”

 

Mercury charges down the ramp at full speed, reaching the cage amazingly quickly. Seeing no clear way out, Wilson throws Raynor’s stumbling body at Merc—and Mercury leapfrogs it! Wilson pales with fear as Mercury bears down on him and swings the chair—

 

CRASH!

 

--right into the steel cage, as Chris Wilson leaps out of the way and clings to the side of the structure! Merc, undeterred, swings the chair at Wilson’s dangling legs, but the M7 leader swings them out of the way…and starts to climb! “Wilson’s going up! Mercury’s got him on the run to—well, in Wargames, no place is safe, and the top of the cage might be Wilson’s best bet!” Wilson, still almost totally fresh, climbs quickly…and a chair sails by his head and up to the top of the cage!

 

“He threw the chair! What the hell is this??”

 

And Mercury looks to Chris Raynor, stumbling to his feet. The Regenerate King points to the sky…and Chris Raynor grins as he joins Merc, bursting forward and leaping onto the cage! The crowd explodes! “Holy crap! Mercury and Raynor are on Wilson’s tail!” screams Stevens! “This is insane, and Chris Wilson is in deep trouble!”

 

Wilson pulls himself over the edge of the cage and on to the top, crawling a little bit past the steel chair, unaware of its presence in his fear. Raynor and Merc are hot on his heels, and down in the cage, the battle has slowed, and all eyes are looking up! Mag’s reversed Danny’s figure-four into a Nagata Lock, Thoth is battering the Prophet and Edwin is resisting Frost and TNT with elbows, but everyone is resting and glancing upwards at the amazing sight before him. Raynor and Merc pull themselves over the edge, and Mercury grabs the chair! The crowd explodes! “The Key Arena is on fire!” scream Stevens! “I’ve never heard cheers this loud!” Wilson tries to clothesline Mercury, but the Regenerate King swings…and connects with the steel chair! Wilson stumbles backwards…and Merc tosses the chair to Raynor!

 

“Unfair! Unfair!” squeals Riley, and Raynor swings…and blasts Wilson! The master manipulator stumbles back towards the edge of the cage, and the crowd gasps as Raynor tosses the chair to Merc! Merc swings again…WHAM! Wilson staggers back again, inches away from the edge—and another toss to Raynor! Raynor swings…and connects!

 

“His foot’s an inch from the cage! Riley, you better pack your things up, because I think Wilson’s about to come crashing down right in front of us!” Riley and Stevens start to scramble back away from the announce table, and Chris Raynor tosses the chair to Merc for the final blow! “This is it!” cries Stevens! Mercury winds up, swings…

 

CRAAAAAAAAAACK!

 

“WHAT? NO!” AND CHRIS RAYNOR TAKES A STIFF STEEL CHAIRSHOT ON THE HEAD COURTESY OF MERCURY! THE KEY ARENA FLOODS WITH BOOS AS CHRIS WILSON STEPS UP AND TAKES THE CHAIR FROM MERC!

 

“YES! YES! THEY HAD IT PLANNED ALL ALONG!”

 

Inside the cage, even the M7 team is astounded.

 

“A setup! A goddamn setup! Mercury has joined the Magnificent Seven!” The Regenerate King gives Chris Raynor a stiff kick in the crotch, doubling him over, then rising uppercut to bring Raynor back full height…and Chris Wilson, shaking off the chairshots, shakes Mercury’s hand.

 

Raynor wobbles.

 

Wilson rears back.

 

“Dear god, no…”

 

CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

 

AND THE BLAZING CHAIRSHOT BLASTS CHRIS RAYNOR UP, OUT, AND OFF THE EDGE OF THE CAGE!!!

 

"DUCK AND COVER!” shouts Riley as he throws down the headset and dives away, and Stevens follows suit…Raynor almost seems to glide through the air, as if suspended by the thousands of flashbulbs that light his descent…a falling angel, a desperate look on his worn face as he braces for 2 seconds…1 seconds…the inevitable…

 

CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH—

 

--and Chris Raynor’s body utterly annihilates the announce table on the impact!

 

“Oh my god…”

 

Wilson drops the chair.

 

Edwin MacPhisto only hears it.

 

Z sees it all.

 

The fans take a second to absorb what they just saw, then break into a deafening chant.

 

“S-W-F! S-W-F!”

 

Raynor’s not moving.

 

“I…I…” Stevens puts his headset back on, and the crowd chants mix with tremendous boos as Wilson and Merc begin to descend the cage, empty drink cups pelting them on their downward journey. “It’s gone from 5 on 5, to 6-5 Carnival/Clan, and now…6-4, Magnificent 7.” Inside the cage, Edwin tries to break away from Frost and TNT, but a double-team gutbuster stops that. Thoth makes a move, but Outcast trips him and then reverses the mounted punching, getting a taste of revenge as his own blood dribbles over Thoth’s face. Magnifico releases his Nagata Lock and bolts for the M7 cage door as Wilson and Merc are halfway down, but Danny Williams grabs him from behind and whips him towards the ropes. Mag catches himself and stops…but Danny surges up from behind with a rolling elbow! He swings…and Mag dives through the ropes, skinning back around and in to blast Williams with a between-the-ropes kick! “The Carnival is trying to…I just…Chris? Get up, Chris…”

 

The EMTs are barreling down the ramp as Magnifico steadies himself onto the apron, grabs the top rope, and pulls himself up, springboard off the top rope towards Danny—no, Williams turns and catches Mag in mid-flight, then bounces him off the ropes, turns…and leaps towards the middle of the ring to reverse into a huge Tiger Driver! Mag goes down hard, and Deathwish scrambles for a step-over facelock, trying to hook a struggling Mag in the Deathlock as Wilson and Merc hit the ground.

 

The Carnies are down…except for Z.

 

He is a bloody, battered mass in the corner of the ring…and he is getting to his feet. Riley gets his headset back on and laughs. “Z? What the hell is Z going to do to the men who just nearly killed his buddy Chris Raynor?” The EMTs arrive at Raynor’s side, taking only a moment to settle him onto a gurney and fit him with a neck brace, slowly wheeling him past the shocked and concerned faces of the fans, as Z staggers up, pulls himself past Outcast and Thoth into Ring 2, weakly grabbing the discarded steel chair brought in so long ago by Edwin MacPhisto. Outside, Wilson and Merc fight through the referees, Merc punching a few out as they try to keep him out of the match to no avail. The Magnificent Two steps through the ring, smiling at the carnage as blood-soaked Z gets to his feet, raises the chair high, and with all his breath lets out a mighty roar:

 

“SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!”

 

And the crowd explodes and Wilson and Merc look on in terror as Z barrels straight towards them! The newest Carnie nears the ropes, chair raised high…and LEAPS OVER THE ROPES, SOARING STRAIGHT TOWARDS MERCURY!

 

“CHAIRSHOT PLANCHA! CHAIRSHOT PLAN--”

 

CLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANG! And Z’s huge leaping chairshot crunches down right on Mercury’s head! “Raynor may be down,” screams Stevens, “but Z is up! Z is up! The heart of the Carnival is still beating!”

 

“Z! Z! Z! Z! Z! Z! Z! Z!” The crowd is overwhelmed, and Z swings again! CRACK! Again! CRACK! Again! CRAAAAAAAAACK—and the fourth shot busts Merc’s forehead wide open and collapses him to the mat! A pile of referees dive in, Matty Kivell leading the way as Merc is escorted out of the ring! With Merc down, Z swings for Wilson—and connects! Wilson’s head shoots backward, and Z hits again—CRACK! He swings one more time, looking for just the right mammoth chairshot to bust the M7 leader wide open—and from behind the Dark Prophet Tyler McClelland pulls the chair out of Z’s hands! “Prophet is up, he’s got the chair now—Z, LOOK OUT!” shouts Mark, but Z can’t turn around in time and in half-a-second Chris Wilson has a length of piano wire garroted around the explosive Carnie’s throat! Z tries to get his hands up, but can’t pull it off—Wilson’s pulling too tight! “Where the hell does he get all that damn wire??”

 

“Pockets rule, Mark! Always resourceful, and always on top—Chris Wilson never says die, but Z’s just about to!” quips Riley.

 

Z chokes and sputters, desperately reaching his fingers up, trying to dig them under the wire and pry it from his esophagus! Choking, he serves a glance upward… and is met by Tyler McClelland, who turns the chair sideways and RAMS it into the stomach of the One Letter Wonder! With a scream mixed liberally with frustration and pain, air, blood, and the last hopes of Z’s comeback attempt are expelled from him. Hands clasped loosely around Wilson’s piano wire, Z falls limp, his eyes weakly meet Tyler’s… as he grins. Wilson returns McClelland’s smirk, and drags Z into a better standing position, as Outcast raises the chair up…

 

*CRACK*

 

“Good god!” Mark exclaims, grimacing all the while. “That chair… for about the dozenth time in this match, that chair got driven into the face of one of these men!”

 

“I know!” shouts Riley, sounding… surprised? “I mean, usually, these steel chairs don’t last two chairshots, let alone twelve! Says something about these new space age materials, doesn’t it?”

 

Mark shoots a glare at Riley, who returns it with a smarmy grin, as always. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. And now, Outcast’s—no, not again… Outcast’s got that chair all sighted up again--”

 

*CRACK*

 

Z recoils lethargically in Wilson’s grasp, fighting pathetically with consciousness, as Outcast holds the chair up again, ready for one more shot. Wilson shoots him a look, Outcast letting the chair fall to his side, contemplating it… as Wilson releases the piano wire, letting Z slouch to his knees. The crowd pauses in their tidal wave of heat, stunned. As do the announcers… “What… the hell?” Mark blinks. “Z, after taking a horrible beating, making a comeback, and getting stoned courtesy Wilson and Tyler McClelland… is being let go? Wilson’s not one to show any mer--”

 

“Mark!” yells Bobby! “Don’t even SAY that word in conjunction with Wilson! Isn’t it OBVIOUS? He’s PLANNING something.”

 

Pause.

 

“At least, he damn well better be.”

 

Gathering up the piano wire, Wilson re-coils it… before delivering a stiff boot to Z’s spine, sending him toppling from his knees to the black safety mats! Standing over him, Wilson roughly grabs one of Z’s arms, before indicating to McClelland to come help him. “I think you’re right, Bobby, Wilson DID have something planned…” Mark’s voice wavers, as he watches Wilson and Tyler bind Z’s wrists. “And I have a sinking feeling I know exactly what it is…”

 

“REALLY, Mark? Tell me, was it him asking Tyler to come give him a HAND? Gya’ Hahahaha!”

 

As Mark actually finds reason to sigh over Bobby’s semi-maniacal laughter and bad puns; the match appears to have slowed down considerably—just the way the M7 have wanted it to. On the outside, Chilly Chilly Bang Bang take turns smashing the world champion upside the head with hard, balled-up fists! TNT cracks Edwin, causing him to stagger back into the ring apron, and cling on to it for whatever balance he can! He shambles forward… but gets decked by Frost, sending him spinning pitifully backwards, grabbing onto the farthest post of ring one to stay standing… until Frost grabs a handful of hair, driving him forehead fist into the cold, cold steel with a resounding *Bong!* Nodding over to TNT, the Explosive One takes hold of the Crown Prince’s wavy, unkempt hair… and both of them toss him into the steel mesh! Edwin locks his fingers into the grid to avoid sliding down… but TNT and Frost grab him again—this time giving him a face wash against the cage! Edwin wails, as Mark grimaces at yet another morbid scene. “And our world champ is being… well, TNT and Frost are literally peeling the skin off of Edwin! They’re using the cage for as a big, British cheese grater!”

 

“Or a big, British… Fish… and chip… chip grater! Cause fish and chips are British, Mark!”

 

“…you’re reaching, Riley. Really, really reaching.”

 

“I know.” You don’t have to look. You can HEAR Bobby grin. “But STILL… another bleeder! I’m in love with this!”

 

Spent, Edwin can only weakly groan as the blood begins to cascade down his face. Off in other jurisdictions of No-Mans Land, Thoth, his own blood on him, but even more blood from his opponents covering him, tries his best to crawl to his feet, using the linked cage the best he can… but slipping a little due to fatigue. ‘The Balancer’ tries his best to shake it off, regrouping. Also on the outside, Wilson and McClelland fumble with the piano wire, binding Z’s wrists, as the New Jersey-ite puts up non-existent resistance. “Man…” begins Bobby, “There are bodies all over the place! Tyler McClelland, Chris Wilson and Z are on the outside, along with Thoth… who isn’t fighting anyone, the punk. Chilly Chilly Bang Bang are mixing Bloody MacPhisto… Raynor got tossed off the top of the cage, and through our table. Hell, the only guys still INSIDE the actual ring are…”

 

“Mag and Danny!” exclaims Stevens, distracted from those two men due to all the happenings of the past minute “Last time I checked Mags was still fighting off the Deathlock…” Mark pauses, peering at down at the destroyed table where his monitor would usually be, before double-taking and looking at the ring. “…and he STILL IS!”

 

Inside of ring 2, El Luchadore Magnifico remains seated on the canvas, keeping a tight grip on Danny Williams calf, trying to make sure Danny cannot complete the step over facelock! Although he’s been fighting hard, his strength is weakening, and Danny’s only growing as he forces his leg down lower… and lower… and lower… ELM gazes around painfully, the fatigue of over one hour of wrestling in a single night weighing heavy on him. The silhouettes and sounds of his stablemates, as pain is inficted upon them by the Magnificent Seven. Grimacing, Mags takes a deep breath. And screams.

 

“ELM just yelled out in… in… in something!” Notes Mark, not entirely sure if this is a good sign or not.

 

“Damn right he did, Mark! And you know what it was? It was PAIN! Danny must’ve finally gotten the Deathlock cinched in!” Riley cackles!

 

“NO! That’s exactly what he didn’t do! That’s a scream of effort, Bobby! ELM just… just re-focused his energy on stopping the submission! He’s fighting out!”

 

“What?!”

 

Riley and Stevens stare on in shock, as Magnifico forces Danny Williams’ leg further from him, loosening the no-totally-locked-in-chinlock… as he sinks his fingers further into Danny’s ankle! Mags’ done his homework, as old injuries never heal, bringing memories of the SJL rushing back to Danny’s mind… along with much pain! Finally, Williams can hold on underneath Magnifico’s chin no longer, as his leg is raised completely above ELM’s head, causing him to topple to the mat with a ‘thump.’ The crowd once again comes alive behind the Carnival, row 110 starting an “ELM! ELM! ELM!” chant! Magnifico immediately throws himself forward, lurching at the ropes, dragging himself to them slowly. Danny, though, quickly pulls himself off of the canvas, shaking out his leg, and making a b-line to ELM… gingerly. Finally managing to get clamped to the bottom rope, Mag sees Danny coming… and gets him in the ankle with a weak toe kick. Danny staggers… as Magnifico tries to pull himself to a better position with the ropes, getting in another shot on Williams!

 

Riley’s mouth is agape. “H… h-how is this even POSSIBLE!? He’s… Magnifico wrestled for over an HOUR, Mark! He was in a freaking ULTIMATE SUBMISSIONS match!”

 

“He’s getting his second—hell, his third, fourth, maybe even fifth wind! And it’s the crowd, his stable mates, his pure desire to not give up… Mag has a lot of reasons!” Stevens says, hope filling his voice once again.

 

“B… but it’s not FAIR! It’s just isn’t FAIR!”

 

As Riley looks ready to throw a tantrum, Magnifico has managed to pull himself up to a semi-standing position, firing off a solid semi-standing shinkick to Danny’s ankle! The “ELM!” chants grow in decibels, as the Luchadore fires a fourth and final kick at Danny’s shin, ARROWING it right into the leg! Danny bellows in pain, falling over himself and throwing a careless elbow at Magnifico, that he easily avoids. ELM backs, Danny into the ropes, and give him no time to recover as he shoots a southpaw into the schnozzola of Danny! A second time! A third! The unlikely brawling attack from the Luchadore finally ends with a gargantuan knife-edge chop that *SMACK*’s across Danny’s chest, drawing enthusiastic ‘Whoo’s’! Finally, ELM grabs hold of Danny’s wrist, going for an Irish Whip… before catching sight of Wilson and McClelland wrapping up with Z… which is all Danny needs to reverse! ELM ricochets off the opposite ropes of ring 1, as Danny telegraphs a backdrop… and gets NOTHING as ELM floats overhead! He turns to look at El Luchadore Magnifico… is just in time to see him jump on the top-rope and springboard off…

 

…on the outside, Wilson and Tyler McClelland share a knowing grin, satisfied with their ‘handiwork’ on Z, who is now hand-bound by Wilson’s piano wire. Wilson silences a groan from Z with a stomp… before noticing an odd shadow overhead. Tyler sees it too, and turns to look, as time slows down…

 

…

 

…

 

…and El Luchadore Magnifico crashes recklessly into them!! All three men topple to the mat, as the crowd registers this on the ‘Holy Shit!’ scale!

 

“SPRINGBOARD SPACEMAN PLANCHA!” Cries Stevens! “Magnifico used that last comeback… that LAST wind he had in him, to score one huge move!”

 

“Sunnoffa’ BITCH!” curses Riley, slamming his hand down on where the desk should be, and getting himself right in the thigh instead. “I just-! I can’t…! This just shouldn’t be…! DAMMIT! …well… at the very least… I can take pride knowing that the Luchadore is DEAD now. Ya’ see what that shit did to Outcast!?”

 

“Point, Riley,” nods Stevens, slowly. “But I think it’s done the most important thing it could: Buy the Midnight Carnival some more time.”

 

Riley blinks. “Time? …for what? More time for the M7 to beat on them?”

 

Riley grins, in what is rapidly becoming the hottest expression of the summer, as Mark makes a show of grumbling. Both men turn their gaze back to the ring, which is now REALLY slowed down, much to the gameplan of the Magnificent Seven. Those who are still standing, anyway. Over on the far corner of ring one, TNT and Frost have tired of toying with Edwin MacPhisto, whose face is now quite covered in blood, turning the silver streaks in the hair of his bangs crimson again... Pulling him away from the steel mesh, TNT takes a hold of Edwin’s arm, lining him up nicely with the one remaining set of yet untouched steel steps! And with one gigantic throw, TNT hurls the Mac Daddy at the boxy steps—or so he thinks! In an almost Z-like fashion, MacPhisto leans into the move more than reverses it, sending all 267 pounds of Thompson careening out of control! Edwin doesn’t even stop to watch TNT’s impact, as he turns around to be met by Frost! Immediately, Edwin answers the Icelander with renewed vigor… and shoteis! Using both hands, Edwin drives his palms into the stomach and chest of Frost, doing little more than stun the big man! Edwin takes a step back, lining Frost up… firing off a snap toe kick, that the quickly recovered Frost easily catches. Frost smiles, slightly… before seeing Edwin returning the look. Before he can ever realize his mistake, Edwin brings his other foot up, slamming it into the side of Frost’s head!

 

“Yes!” shouts Mark, his markisim showing though. He pauses on a glare from Riley. “Uh, I mean… Edwin using the time that ELM bought for the Carnival wisely, dispatching the Chilly Chilly Bang Bang in quick fashion!”

 

The Enzuigiri fails to knock Frost down, only knocking him for a loop. He does a full spin-o-rama, coming back to face the Mac Daddy, who fires off another snap kick to Frost, that this time he actually gets away with! The largest member of the Magnificent Seven doubles over, as Edwin slaps on a front facelock! Shaking the hair (and blood) from his eyes, Edwin looks to the crowd, raising a hand to huge applause, before getting the DDT! …no, make that, ‘trying for the DDT’. Bringing his much larger body upwards, Frost manages to stop Edwin as he tries for the DDT. Frustrated, Edwin tries once more, only to be met by the same result!

 

“Edwin, visibly frustrated with the fact that the DDT, usually a very quick and efficient move, can’t be pulled off!” Calls Stevens.

 

“Ahh… thank you, Rick Scaia.” Dripping with sarcasm, Riley continues. “Now, I and the folks at home know the intricacies of such a complex maneuver like the DDT. What’s next? The dropkick?”

 

“Shut up, Riley,” Stevens grumbles. “Third time better be the charm, as Edwin’s trying for the DDT again… and Frost counters! Frost uses being doubled over to his advantage, and gets his arms under Edwin hoisting him high in… a Gorilla Press Slam!”

 

With an audible thump, Edwin’s body crashes down into the empty ring two. The shaken up but not beaten MacPhisto shakes out his head, and looks up from the canvas, WAY up, to see Frost clambering up onto the apron. Edwin rises to his feet, getting ready to deal with the Iceman from Iceland… but is distracted by a clanging sound, as he looks to one side… to see TNT rising from the wreckage of the steel steps, shaken up, still bleeding, but not really hurt… and looking *extremely* pissed off. Edwin backs up slowly, toward the other ring, trying to figure out some kind of battle plan while TNT and Frost advance on him… before being caught from behind!

 

“Williams! Danny Williams!” shouts Stevens. “I think Edwin forgot about Danny during all the dealing with Chilly Chilly Bang Bang!”

 

“Well… good for him!” responds Riley. “I like to see that kind of ineptitude among Carnies, Mark! I mean, why do you think I enjoy working with you so much?”

 

As Mark responds with ominous silence, Danny locks up Edwin from behind, cinching in… the crossface chicken wing! The crowd boo’s in rememberance, as this move…

 

“CCS! Whoo!” whoos Riley. “That’s Danny’s finisher from the old school!

 

“Riley, he’s only been around for about six months.”

 

“Back in the JL! He put down a whole lot of guys with this, Mark!” Continues Riley, oblivious.

 

“Hey, Bobby?” queries Mark. “Don’t you think that there’s a REASON he changed his finisher to the Deathlock?”

 

“…whoo! Back in the JL, baby!”

 

As Mark shakes his head, Danny cinches in the hold as tight as he can, and MacPhisto struggles! He jerks his arm around, trying to free it from Danny’s airtight grip… but is stopped cold as TNT delivers a solid boot to the gut! Edwin expels a burst of air as TNT takes another shot! A wave of crowd heat washes over the ring, as Frost steps up for his turn, driving his foot into Edwin’s gut, as Danny lowers him to his knees, increasing the torque! TNT indicates for Frost to move out of the way, as he goes to the ropes for a running kick! He shoots himself off… and suddenly plummets face first into the canvas, as his foot is ripped out from under him! Frost turns his head to the ropes… only to see a blur of red fly off them… as Thoth springboards toward him, crashing into Frost with a Springboard High Leg Clothesline! The crowd goes wild, as Frost shambles into the corner, slumping down!

 

“Dammit! Mark, where’d he come from!?”

 

“Parts Unknown.”

 

“… I know that! I mean, where did he appear from!? Last I checked, Thoth was still recovering from Outcast!”

 

“Sure.” Agrees Mark. “About five minutes ago.”

 

Bobby scowls as ‘The Balancer’ makes his presence felt on the match again! He stalks over to Danny, who keeps the submission clenched in, trying to get a submission out of Edwin in the five seconds before Thoth—

 

*POW*

 

“And Thoth just RIPPED Danny a kick to the head!” shouts Mark, as Danny breaks the Crossface! “Danny stumbles back into the ropes from the force of that kick… and tries to counter the only way he knows how! With a stiff elbow!”

 

“But he--! …blocked it? And he follows up with thrust uppercut!?” Bobby blinks as Williams staggers. “Damn it! And the M7 were doing so well there for a while! Seriously, Mark, what’s with ‘good-guys’ making unbeatable comebacks all the time!? It seems so… preplanned…”

 

“Well, Bobby,” starts Mark, “It’s nothing but a coincidence.”

 

“…In EVERY match we have!?”

 

“Yes. Nothing but a coincidence.”

 

Having just had Thoth’s fingers occupy his throat, Danny drops to his knees against the ropes, and grabs at aforementioned throat, gasping for air. Thoth shakes his head… and turns back to Edwin who is still picking himself up off of mat. Thoth makes his way over to Edwin, as the Crown Prince turns to look at him. Thoth steps up to Edwin as both men lock eyes, for a looong moment.

 

A very long moment. Suddenly, Thoth…

 

 

…

 

…extends his hand to help Edwin to his feet! Despite the nature of the match, and despite the fact the two men had some impromptu double-teaming earlier in the evening, Edwin still looks leery… but he still reaches out… and takes Thoth’s hand! ‘The Balancer’ helps MacPhisto to his feet, as the crowd goes absolutely nuts for the show of union, if only for the short, maybe even single, time! However, before anything can come of it, Thoth and Edwin quickly break hands, ducking out of the way of a double Chilly Chilly Bang Bang clothesline! TNT and Frost reverberate off the ropes, Edwin and Thoth share a look, nod, and LEVEL both men with clotheslines of their own! The crowd pops huge!

 

“Good lord! Take a picture folks, because it may never happen again! Thoth not only helped Edwin MacPhisto to his feet, but helped him just *level* both TNT and Frost with a clothesline!” calls Mark, not being able to help the slight smile on his face.

 

“Well, except for that other time it happened EARLIER in the match, right?” Bobby adds, sourly. “Bah… ‘what a tender moment’ my ASS. How sickeningly twee. Could I have a barf bag, over here!”

 

Riley complains and makes a scene at what’s left of the commentary table, as Mark buries his face in his hands, rubbing his temples. Surveying the M7 bodies strewn about the ring, Thoth and Edwin direct their attention to the OUTSIDE, occupied by a Z, who has managed to claw—erm, knee his way to a sitting position, against the cage, alongside ELM, who for all intents an purposes, could be considered legally dead. Edwin points to Mag and nods, while he marches off to help Z stand back upright…

 

“Well, tender moments aside, there’s business at hand for Edwin and Thoth!” interjects Stevens “They still have two downed teammates to help, along with Chris Wilson and Tyler McClelland! Not to mention, the Carnies have yet to really try to end the match via submission…”

 

“Heyyy…” Bobby wonders, aloud. “Where exactly are Tyler and Chris, anyway? Shouldn’t they be with Z and Magnifico?”

 

Mark opens his mouth to say something, looks around the cage, and stops.

 

“….uh oh.”

 

Hauling him up to his feet, Thoth puts Magnifico’s arm over his shoulder, walking him over and sitting him down on the ring apron. Stepping over to Z, Edwin helps him to his feet the best he can, minus the use of his arms. Edwin stares down at Z’s wrists, noticing the helluva job that Wilson and Tyler did on the piano wire. Grumbling, Edwin begins to fiddle with undoing the piano wire, paying no mind to the slightly ruffling ring apron… Thoth, having set ELM down to recover, begins to pace around the ring, turning the far corner of ring two, to keep tabs Chilly Bang, and Deathwish… as the fans start to stir. Thoth stops for a moment, listening to something that sound peculiarly like the ruffling of… the ring apron? The fans suddenly jeer and the ones in the front row scream…

 

“BEHIND YOU!”

 

And for the first time ever, a wrestler actually listens to them, as Thoth turns and ducks, narrowly avoiding Outcast and his steel chair! Tyler curses at his miss, as Thoth turns to look at Edwin, still fiddling with Z’s wired hands, the suspiciously big black clothed guy walking up behind him…

 

“EDWIN!”

 

MacPhisto turns… but not fast enough to see it coming as Chris Wilson also appears from under the ring, blasting Edwin with TNT’s aluminum bat! Edwin howls in pain, as Wilson quickly scurries him to ring one, along with an easily recovered Danny Williams!

 

“…I can’t believe it. Wilson hid UNDER the ring to avoid Edwin and Thoth—and now they’re trying to isolate Edwin MacPhisto!” Mark sounds genuinely shocked!

 

“Yeah, really!” replies Bobby. “I mean, I know the mandatory on re-using angles is seven years, and this is from 2000, bu hey! If you have the means…”

 

“Well, actually, Bobby, I was going to comment on how unstylish and un-Wilson-like I thought it was, but whatever works.”

 

Cursing loudly at the turn of events, Thoth tries to get into ring two, but is stopped cold by McClelland, who finally discards the useless chair! The former Outcast strikes forward with a hard, stiff boxing-esque punch… that Thoth easily blocks with his forearm! Dulled be beatings, blood loss, and rust, Tyler allows Thoth to duck down, and score another Thrust Uppercut into McClelland’s throat! Tyler coughs and sputters, as ‘The Balancer’ rolls him into ring two. Thoth takes a turn and sees a dizzied Edwin struggling to get out of Wilson and Danny’s clutches, and sees the Mac Daddy mouth a few words in his direction. With a nod, Thoth dives into Ring 2, the dazed, bleeding, battered but not beaten but still wrist wired anyway Z following from the apron…

 

“Wilson and Danny have got Edwin into the first ring,” shouts Mark, “and it looks like Z and Thoth are—yes, Thoth’s getting the wire off Z’s wrists! What an unlikely team about to work over Tyler McClelland!” Working fast but carefully, Thoth clutches at the piano wire, feverishly untying the knots. The wire cuts into his hands, but he grits his teeth, fights through…and frees Z! The crowd pops huge as Thoth tosses the wire away—and deflates suddenly as Tyler McClelland charges the Balancer with a jumping sidekick to the jaw—no, Thoth sidesteps and lands a big elbow to the back of McClelland’s head! He tosses the Prophet to the ringpost…and Z splashes him! The crowd cheers, and Thoth shouts something to Z:

 

“We’re going up!”

 

Thoth grabs Tyler and lifts him up to sit on the top turnbuckle…

 

In Ring 1, Frost and TNT are staggering to their broken feet, now getting some life after the double-team clothesline. Edwin hammers back at Wilson with big swings, trying to break away from him and Danny, but to no avail-no, Edwin ducks forward and mule kicks Danny off his back! “Edwin breaks free!” Wilson, a look of pissed-off fatigue on his face, lunges forward—

 

CRAAAACK!

 

--and takes a shotei straight to the jaw! His head snaps back…

 

…and lolls forward. The eyes stare burning into Edwin…and a dribble of blood slides out of Wilson’s mouth. The crowd roars! “Wilson’s busted open! Edwin stiffed the hell out of Wilson—no, look out!” And Danny snags Edwin with a choke takedown from behind!

 

In Ring 2, Thoth climbs up to the bottom turnbuckle…the 2nd…and the third, motioning to Z to come behind him!

 

In Ring 1, an irate Wilson rips Edwin out of Danny’s grasp and takes him into a standing headscissors!

 

Now Z is on the first—the second turnbuckle! Thoth waistlocks Tyler! Z waistlocks Thoth!

 

“No WAY…”

 

Now Wilson has Edwin in a gutwrench—Danny grabs Edwin’s other end, and the M7 men lift the Carnival leader…

 

…just as Z and Thoth lift the Prophet up and off the top turnbuckle!

 

“Oh my god!”

 

WHAM!

 

“Yes!” cries Riley! “Spike Piledriver on Edwin!”

 

WHAM!

 

“Yes!” cries Stevens! “Stacked superplex on Outcast!” All six men thunder to the ground—Danny’s worked-over ankle gives out and he collapses! Thoth lands hard on his back, taking a huge sacrifice on the suplex! The Prophet lands on his neck and rolls to the ropes! Z flounders in the corner! But Wilson stands tall, pulls Edwin MacPhisto up—and HOOKS A FULL-NELSON, POWERING EDWIN DOWN TO THE RING ONE MAT WITH A PLATINUM NIGHTMARE!

 

“SPIKE PILEDRIVER! PLATINUM NIGHTMARE! And--” Riley pauses, and…Wilson hits it! He locks on the full-nelson STF! “FINISHING TOUCHES! MacPhisto is in the Finishing Touches!”

 

Across the rings, Z and the Prophet are up! Z barrels forward with an Arm Grenade—

 

WHIIICRACK!

 

--and the Prophet staggers forward with a stiff punch to the temple! Z wobbles—

 

WHIIICRACK!

 

“Shot to Z’s other temple—it’s the Forceful Indoctrination! The Carnival has to act fast if they’re going to survive!” Z staggers, and Prophet bears back for the final roundhouse kick…he swings…

 

AND Z DUCKS! The leg sails over his head to a huge pop, leaving him facing Tyler’s back…and stepping forward, totally on instinct, reaching out, and…

 

…

 

…

 

LOCKING ON A STANDING OCTOPUS STRETCH! THE KEY ARENA CROWD GIVES THE BIGGEST POP OF THE NIGHT AS Z WRENCHES BACK ON A HOWLING OUTCAST!

 

“SEVENTH-INNING STRETCH!” screams Stevens! “Seventh-Inning Stretch! He learned it, by god, he LEARNED IT! Z has Outcast in the Seventh-Inning Stretch! Wilson has Edwin in the Finishing Touches--”

 

“You’re just marking cause it’s YOUR move!”

 

“SHUT UP, Bobby! It’s a race for the submission!” Everyone in the Key Arena is on their feet as Z wrenches Tyler and Wilson wrenches Edwin—and Frost and TNT are getting back to their feet! Deathwish is back on his feet, and as Edwin cries out, a flood of referees pour in through the cage doors! “The whole staff is in here—half on Outcast, half on Edwin, waiting for the submission! This is gonna be it, folks!” The refs flood in…and Deathwish dives into action, literally, as he dives and cinches Edwin’s right leg, then his left…bridging back for a Boston Crab!

 

“Double submission! Double submission!” squeals Riley! “Edwin’s GOT to tap!” The Mac Daddy is bleeding all over the place, straining, gritting his teeth, not wanting to give up, but not able to hold on much longer!

 

“There’s torque on Edwin’s body from all over—Thoth is getting to his feet, but TNT and Frost are right on his tail!” shouts Stevens! “I can’t take much more of this!” Thoth is up, moving forwards to help Z, oblivious to the hulking giants behind him…AND SUDDENLY, THE TOUGHEST LUCHADORE OF THEM ALL COMES SLIDING INTO THE RING!

 

“NO! NO! GET HIM OUT OF HERE!” screams Riley! The crowd is going nuts as Magnifico staggers to his feet, clutching his skull, shouting at Thoth!

 

“Go, amigo! Andale!” Thoth nods and bursts forward as Magnifico steps up and blocks the path to the Carnival submission crew! Outcast is struggling, bucking, trying to get the tightly-locked Z off—Z loses one arm’s grasp—when suddenly, Thoth basebell slides into the action and spreads his knees, CLAMPING them down around Tyler McClelland’s neck as he skids to a stop!

 

“HEADSCISSORS—NO, TRIANGLE LOCK! TRIANGLE LOCK AND GROUNDED OCTOPUS HOLD ON TYLER MCCLELLAND!” Z regains his grasp on the Prophet, and Tyler buckles down! “Double submission for the Carnival and Thoth! Double submission for the Magnificent Seven! There’s gotta be 20 referees inside that cage, 10 on each man! Something’s going to have to give--”

 

“—and here comes Chilly Chilly Bang Bang!” screams Riley! The fans are haywire! The arena is pure insanity! Frost and TNT climbs through the ropes to Ring Two—and Magnifico gets in the way! He swings a punch! Another punch! No effect!

 

“Mag’s not stopping them—but he’s holding them back, by god! What heart! I can’t believe this, Riley!”

 

“Neither can I—tap, you silly British bitch! Tap!”

 

Wilson wrenches the full-nelson! Danny bridges back and pulls the Crab hard—and Magnifico leaps at Frost and TNT, giving himself up to them in a sacrifice cross-body that’s easily caught! “Frost and TNT are almost to Thoth and Z—come on Carnival, go go go!” Thoth clenches the triangle lock, and Z starts to elevate Tyler back to standing! McClelland moves to tap—NO, he sees TNT and Frost and holds on! Across the cage, Edwin raises his arm…

 

“Hold on, Edwin, hold on…”

 

“CARN-I-VAL! CARN-I-VAL! CARN-I-VAL!”

 

Frost and TNT lift Magnifico high—and he punches each man in the head! Once! Twice! Thrice! “WHY WON’T HE JUST DIIIIE?” screams Riley, and Magnifico hits a facelock on TNT as CCBB tries to flip him—and succeeds, but not before Mag scores a headscissors on Frost!

 

“MAG’S GOT THEM BOTH! TIMBEEEEERRRRRRR!”

 

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM! The headscissors/DDT combination brings Frost and TNT down at the same time that Z lets out a roar and pulls upwards, getting Tyler McClelland back on his feet—and Thoth maintains the high-angle Triangle Lock!

 

“Outcast’s hung out to dry! This is over!”

 

“Edwin’s trapped! He’s got to tap!”

 

In Ring 1, Edwin MacPhisto cries out, the pain becoming too much! He lifts his hand…it trembles…it shakes…

 

In Ring 2, Tyler McClelland raises HIS free arm, waving it in the air, screaming, trying to push air out of his clenched throat…

 

“Outcast’s about to tap! He’s got his hand up!”

 

The referees watch…the fans watch…all eyes on Edwin…all eyes on Outcast…blood streaming everywhere, screams filling the Key Arena…Edwin lifts his hand weakly, and forlornly, desperately, brings it down…

 

“YES! THE M7 HAS IT--”

 

--ONTO THE BOTTOM ROPE! THE CROWD EXPLODES AS EDWIN CLENCHES AT THE RING ROPE, GRITTING HIS TEETH IN PAIN…

 

…while across the ring, the Prophet screams, flails…AND RELENTS,SLAMMING HIS HAND AGAINST Z’S BACK AND SCREAMING AS LOUD AS HE CAN!

 

“THE PROPHET TAPS OUT! THE PROPHET TAPS OUT!”

 

“NO, NO, NO!”

 

Kivell signals the referee, and the crowd explodes one final time as the bell sounds out! Outcast collapses limply and Edwin sighs in pained relief!

 

“THEY’VE DONE IT! THEY’VE DONE IT!” screams Mark Stevens. “THE MIDNIGHT CARNIVAL AND THOTH HAVE OUTLASTED THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN HERE TONIGHT!”

 

“YOUR WINNERS,” bellows Funyon, shouting into his microphone, “of the FIRST-EVER S-W-F WARGAMES: the Midnight Carnival and Thoth!” “Love Rollercoaster” blares over the speakers as Thoth and Z release the submission and stagger to their feet, and the precocious rookie dashes forward and grabs Thoth in a surprising hug! The ever-cool and hip Thoth nonchalantly unclasps himself from the blood-soaked Z before stumbling to the ropes to catch his breath, and Wilson and Danny Williams, totally exhausted, release Edwin and fall away! Wilson looks over to Tyler McClelland, pounds his fist into the mat, and looks up to the roof of the cage with one overwhelming scream:

 

“FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!”

 

“What a war! What an absolute war!” shouts Stevens! “Every man in there is bloodied! Every man in there is battered! It’s a celebration and a mass grave all at once—this has been 40 minutes of hell, and without a doubt one of the GREATEST matches we have EVER seen!” In the ring, Edwin has liberated himself from the astonished and frustrated watch of Chris Wilson and Danny Williams, and the Carnival leader, an elated grin on his bloody face, stumbles over to Thoth and Z with congratulations, before falling to the mat in a heap of ecstatic laughter! El Luchadore Magnifico follows suit, dragging his broken frame under the dividing ring ropes, where a for-once-smiling Thoth helps him to his feet. The Prophet is still down, and Wilson is punching the turnbuckle in the corner, while a bloody, gasping Danny Williams lays at his feet. In Ring 1, Frost and TNT are shaking their heads out and coming to the realization of what just happened.

 

“The Magnificent Seven were robbed, Mark! They were--”

 

“Bobby, for once in your life, shut the HELL up! This was a savage war—without a doubt, the most consistently brutal affair we have ever seen in an SWF ring. The match could have gone either way—with Raynor out of commission, the M7 looked to have the advantage, but the heart and willpower of the Carnival and their Clan compatriot won out in the end! And listen to the crowd, Bobby—they’re giving a standing ovation—NOT just for the Carnival, not just for Thoth, but for all the men out there, 10 amazing warriors who put it all on the line tonight!”

 

True to Mark’s words, there’s not a filled seat in the entire Key Arena: the entire mind-blown capacity crowd, amazed at the blend of technical skill and total brutality that they have just witnessed, are on their feet with applause, marveling at the epic destruction laid out before them: a blood-soaked cage, a red-stained ring, a decimated and obliterated announce table, ten ghostly specters of men who won’t be at 100% for days…

 

…and an eleventh figure, cascading down the ring ramp in a full length black robe, coasting towards the carnage with surprising speed!

 

“An amazing match, ladies and gentlemen,” continues Mark Stevens, totally oblivious as the crowd’s disposition becomes confused, “the greatest match we have ever seen, the greatest main event we have ever seen—wait a minute, wait a minute, who the hell is that?” The figure approaches the Magnificent Seven side of the cage, and plowing through a crowd of helpless officials, finds its way to the cage door!

 

“Spider Nekura! It’s Spider Nekura, come down to kick Thoth out of the Clan for teaming with the Carnies!”

 

“Bobby, you just pulled that out of your ass…”

 

“I can hope…”

 

The announcers speculate as the figure pushes in through the cage door and glides into Ring 2, sliding into the ring and rising to its feet. With the black hood of the robe pulled down, the figure stands at about 6’5”, and cuts quite an imposing profile in the face of the just-risen Tyler McClelland, bruised, battered, bloody, and beaten! A hush falls over the crowd, and all nine wrestlers inside the cage shift their focus, halting their revels or their regrets for a moment. “Everyone’s watching….IS that Spider Nekura, Riley?” Tyler McClelland rises to his feet, deeply disappointed in himself for tapping out, already tremendously frustrated, and definitely NOT in the mood to deal with anyone else tonight. The Prophet peers to the hood of the robe, trying to discern a face, and he laughs a pained laugh. The ring mics pick up conversation…

 

“Hey, pal.” The Prophet gives the figure a light shove. “We just wrestled our asses off in here. We’re all soaked in each other’s fucking blood. We all want to go home now. So, if you don’t mind me asking—who the FUCK are you?”

 

There is a flash of light as the figure’s arm dives deep into his cloak, a glinting flare shining off the object in motion—

 

--TH-THUNK.

 

THUNK.

 

THUNNNNK.

 

Three shots—one to the neck, and one to each knee, and Tyler McClelland is down in a twitching mass.

 

The crowd is in a fervor of shock.

 

“My god! My god,” shouts Stevens, “what the hell is happening? These two teams just annihilated each other in there, and whoever the hell this is just leveled Tyler McClelland! This isn’t right--”

 

Danny Williams takes a step towards his mentor--

 

FWOOOOOOSH-THUNK.

 

“Deathwish! Deathwish is down!”

 

Thoth catches a glimpse of the rod brandished: it is a cane.

 

A steel-tipped cane.

 

Z, overcome with a sudden camaraderie for the men who have spilled his blood, charges forward with all of his remaining strength. Thoth tries to stop him, but to no avail—

 

FWOOOOOOSH-THUNK. FWOOOOOSH-THUNK. FWOOOOSH-THUNK.

 

“Z is down, this man has taken out Carnies and M7 alike--”

 

Magnifico barrels forward after Z, and the figure spins, sending a lightning-fast kick into Mag’s chest, blasting him away. “No man in this ring is fit to stand up to this outsider!” shouts Stevens. “The men in that ring can barely move, much less fight! This is a merciless attack!” The figure moves again…for the corner.

 

For Chris Wilson.

 

As the cane sails into the back of Wilson’s head, driving him into the ringpost and down to the mat, the crowd boos at the interloper. Seeing their leader fall, TNT and Frost bail out of Ring 1, staggering out the Carnival’s cage entrance.

 

Thoth and Edwin stand alone.

 

Thoth’s eyes widen.

 

Wilson collapses at the figures feet, and with one powerful roll of the shoulders, the figure sheds his robe, revealing a well-built man in black pants…and a tattoo across his shoulder blades.

 

“Oh my god…”

 

The tattoo reads:

 

“NO SALVATION”

 

Edwin and Thoth freeze up. The figure turns.

 

Edwin MacPhisto and Yuuichiro Kaesame find themselves staring into the cold, hard, smirking eyes of Nathan Kibagami.

 

Damien Phillips.

 

Whatever you call him is fine. It makes no difference in the long run.

 

Silent has arrived.

 

“It’s…it’s Silent!” shouts Riley, in startled awe. “The recently returned JL Clansman! He and Thoth, they’re going to destroy MacPhisto now! I understand!”

 

The crowd is booing loudly, and TNT and Frost are freaking out as they stagger up the ramp, eyes fixed on the slaughter in the cage. Inside, Silent stares straight into Thoth’s eyes. Then, he stares straight into Edwin’s eyes.

 

He grins.

 

Thoth and Edwin look at each other. They look down at the bodies surrounding them. Both men are in stunned shock.

 

Silent swings the cane…at air. A final FWOOOSH of motion cuts through the Key Arena atmosphere…and the Clansman slides out of the ring. “Silent is here! Silent is here—is Silent in the SWF? I can’t believe it—the loose cannon is here! What does this mean for the Clan, and why…why is Edwin staring at him like that?”

 

Silent steps out through the cage door from wince he came, and ignoring the crowd, ignoring the only two men left standing, ignoring TNT and Frost as they disappear behind the entrance curtain, he walks to the top of the ramp. Edwin MacPhisto and Thoth stand alone, and stare at Silent as he reaches the entrance stage. He turns out to the crowd, flourishes his cane, taking in their boos and scorn for only a moment, and looking hard and cold down to the ring, through the cage, through the bloodshed, through the ropes, he mouths two words, two words for two men:

 

“It’s time.”

 

He stands at the top of the ramp, and Edwin and Thoth are, for once, speechless.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” murmurs Mark Stevens, “I don’t know what we’re seeing! I don’t know what we’ve just witnessed! Possibly the greatest match in our history, the bloodiest, most brutal engagement in our fair sport, and one of the strangest, most chilling and heartless appearances I’ve ever seen. As if Wargames wasn’t enough, Silent has left half of the competitors laying…and Edwin and Thoth in utter shock. I don’t know what’s going on—but I know this. The Carnival and Thoth have won Wargames, but at great cost to the seriously injured Chris Raynor. Mercury has joined the Magnificent Seven in stunning form, and Silent, the mysterious menace of the JL, appears to have become the latest SWF superstar—what all of this means now, what the implications will be, I cannot tell you! None of these men will be able to walk out of here alone tonight, and what will happen on Storm? This has been Ground Zero, quite possibly the greatest pay-per-view in our two-year history, and for Bobby Riley, Ben Hardy, and the whole staff, this is Mark Stevens, signing off!”

 

“Mark…” says Bobby, trying to take it all in, all the battered bodies, the fragments of his announce table, the menacing, cutting stare of Silent, and the confusion and terror of Edwin and Thoth…

 

“…at this point…even I’m kind of worried.”

 

We cut to black on a long shot of the cage, the carnage, and the Key Arena.

 

This has been many things. This has been a proving ground. This has been a night of surprises. This has been War.

 

This has been Ground Zero 2002.

[Guest Tyler McClelland]

Edwin, you didn't let a fucking person down...

 

Incredible prose. Beautifully written...

 

How Stubby came to any decision between these two matches is beyond me. I'm glad he made the decision he did, but Jesus... neither of these teams deserved to lose.

 

Great... GREAT match.

[Guest Longdogger_Pete]

Geez, Edwin, how do I follow up that?

 

Anyway, here's my crap match for Ground Zero. I guess that'll happen when you write the whole thing yourself. Well, in my case anyway.

 

Coming back from a short break to SWF Ground Zero in Seattle, Washington's Key Arena, the camera pans over a couple of unusual crowd signs before settling back at the announcers' table. For a split second the camera catches a sign that says "THIS SPACE FOR RENT," followed by another one reading "GLASS CEILING!" A third sign reminds viewers to "GET THE F IN!"

 

"Whew!" exclaims "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens, play by play announcer here at SWF Ground Zero. "That certainly was an exciting match we just witnessed. Wasn't it, Riley?"

 

"I don't know," Bobby Riley replies from the color commentator's position right beside Stevens. "I was too busy staring at Annie."

 

Stevens groans. "Well, you probably weren't the only one. Folks, if you're just joining us here at SWF Ground Zero, we've just had an exciting match for the Hardcore title that saw Jay Dawg defend against the newest member of X Force 9, Annie Eclectic!"

 

"Not only that," Riley adds, "but you've just blown thirty bucks on a pay per view you're only going to get to see half of. Way to go, loser."

 

Stevens shrugs. "Well, a bit later on we'll have that incredible Wargames main event, but coming up next, we're going to see a lot more of X Force 9 in action as stable leader Longdogger Pete will team up with another recent addition, Tod deKindes, to take on the Magnificent Seven team of Frost and 'TNT' Taylor Nicholas Thompson!"

 

Riley casts a curious glance in Stevens' direction. "Don't you mean the team of 'Chilly Chilly Bang Bang?'"

 

"Well, um, yeah," Stevens says, "if that ridiculous name is relevant to you."

 

"Of course it's relevant!" exclaims Riley.

 

"Right," says Stevens, rolling his eyes. "And here I thought you'd be more interested in the in-ring action, or heaven forbid, the story of how Pete and Tod got to this point, and the question of whether they'll be able to function in the ring tonight as a unit. Silly me. What was I thinking?"

 

"Beats me," Riley answers. "Hey, do you think I could score with Annie Eclectic?"

 

Stevens shakes his head, sighing in exasperation, then points in Riley's direction. "Ladies and gentlemen, if you'd like to contact Bobby Riley, you can reach him at his home address at 1230 Elk--"

 

"Hey!" hollers Riley, cutting off his broadcast partner. "The last time you did that I got hundreds of harassing letters from the same psychopathic idiot who kept accusing me of holding down 'popular' talent like Ted Flink."

 

"Oh, wow, I had no idea," comments Stevens. "Did they ever catch the guy?"

 

"Oh, yeah," Riley nods. "It was Flink."

 

One more time Stevens sighs. "Well, folks, we'd better get on with our next match before Stubby comes out and complains that we're using up too much time on a mere midcard match."

 

Almost as if on cue, the Smarktron comes alive as "TNT" by AC/DC begins blaring over the speaker system.

 

"Watch me exploooooooooooode!"

 

As the music continues to play, a dark figure emerges from the curtain atop the stage, and steps out into a sea of red and orange lights, to a heated chorus of boos from the audience.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen," announces Funyon, "the following contest is scheduled for ONE fall, and it is for the number one contendership to the SWF Tag Team Championship! Introducing first, the team of the Magnificent Seven: first, from Anaheim, California, weighing in at 267 pounds... "TNT" TAYLOR NICHOLAS THOOOOOOMPSOOOOOOOON!"

 

TNT strides briskly down the ramp, and slides into the ring; as he paces all around the four corners, posing to each and every one of them. As Bon Scott's manly voice fades to a stop, we hear some retro Cult, as Taylor turns to the entrance way, anticipating the arrival of his partner.

 

"Cities On Flame With Rock and Roll" by the Blue Oyster Cult is the next piece of music to make its way across the speakers, and the audience boos yet again as a second man begins his stride down the ramp, a large hulk of a man that seems to waste little time reaching his destination. "And his tag team partner," Funyon announces, "from Reykjavik, Iceland, weighing in at 296 pounds ... The Iceman from Iceland … FROOOOOOOOOOOOOOST!"

 

Frost meets up with TNT inside the ring, as the two exchange some knowing nods between each other.

 

"The fans really don't like this team," pronounces Stevens in his stating of the obvious as he watches TNT and Frost ascend opposite turnbuckles, posing for the disapproving audience.

 

"The fans are idiots," chimes in Riley, "for not paying their respect to this worthy team! and actually CHEERING a group like X Force Nine, who are NOT worthy of carrying the Magnificent 7's boots!!!"

 

"Whatever, Riley," mutters Stevens.

 

"Are you disrespecting the mighty Chilly Chilly Bang Bang?" asks Riley.

 

Frost's music fades out, to be replaced by "Operate Annihilate" by Powerman 5000. An explosion of green and white pyrotechnics erupts on the stage, and in the wake of the blast, two men show up on top of the stage.

 

"Introducing the opponents," says Funyon over the microphone, "at a combined weight of 499 pounds... they are members of the X Force Nine … Longdoggeeeeer Peeeeeeeeete and Tod - deeeeeeeeeeee - Kin - deeeeeeeeessssssss !!!

 

"Well, Stevens, I hear these two XF9 members have had some recent history," says Riley. "Would you mind filling us in on the events of the last couple weeks?"

 

A series of video clips helpfully accompany Stevens' explanations.

 

"I was going to do that earlier, but you interrupted me!" shouts Stevens. "But nonetheless, two weeks ago on Storm, X Force 9 leader Longdogger Pete challenged the rookie Tod deKindes to a singles match. Pete soundly defeated Tod, but Tod hadn't had enough. He challenged Pete last week on Storm with the stipulation that if he could beat the veteran, he'd be allowed entrance into XF9. Sure enough, Tod managed to get a victory, and ever since joining XF9, he's been trying to get the rest of the team to get their acts together and be more serious about their goals. "

 

"Well, Stevens, I think these two are the most serious members XF9 has, but will it be enough to topple the ultra serious team of Chilly Chilly Bang Bang?" Riley tries to suppress a chuckle, but fails.

 

After a brisk walk down the ramp, both Longdogger Pete and Tod deKindes slide into the ring, and then stand to face their opponents. Pete stretches in the ropes, as Tod removes his entrance gear, tossing it to the nearby yet averagely cute ring girl. Seconds later, the action is on, as Pete begins assaulting Frost with several hard right punches, while at the same time, TNT executes a similar set of punches on Tod. The referee, Matthew Kivell, gets involved at this point, trying to force a member of each team to exit the ring area. TNT and Tod begrudgingly agree, stepping through the ropes to take their respective corners while Pete and Frost officially begin the match.

 

As the opening bell casually sounds, Pete continues his assault on Frost, striking with his overhand right punches repeatedly, which stagger back Frost, an impressive feat since Frost is larger than Pete. Frost recovers, backing against the ropes and sidestepping the next blow, then pulling Pete into an Irish whip toward the opposite set of ropes. Pete ricochets off the ropes, then runs back toward Frost, who is ready for his opponent, catching Pete and twisting him into a tilt a whirl side slam! The dazed Pete reels on the mat, surprised by the impressive strength of Frost.

 

"This'll be a tough job for Pete right here," says Stevens. "He's not used to standing in front of a man that's nearly twice his size, much less being thrown around the ring like that."

 

Pete gets back to his feet as Frost swings at him. Pete blocks Frost's punch with his palm and scores another hard right of his own. Pete leaps forward, knocking Frost onto his back in a modified Lou Thesz press that looks impressive being done without any forward running momentum on Pete's part. Pete skips over the mounted punches that normally would succeed such a move, instead rolling off Frost and grabbing his leg for an early cover attempt.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

Frost easily gets his shoulder into the air, shoving Pete away as he gets back to his feet.

 

"That looks like a new move from Pete, doesn't it?" asks Riley.

 

"Yeah, I do believe he calls it the Dog Pound," replies Stevens.

 

"Dog Pound?" Riley chuckles. "That's the most ridiculous name for a wrestling move I've ever heard."

 

"Don't look at me. I didn't name it."

 

Frost approaches Pete again, but Pete comes right back at his opponent with a series of gut punches that doubles over the big man over ever so slightly. It's just enough for Pete to leap into the air with a high scissor kick dropped across Frost's back, sending the Icelandic native sprawling out on the mat. Pete turns Frost over to his back side, about to attempt another cover, when he sees his tag partner, Tod deKindes, signaling for a tag. Pete pulls Frost a little closer toward Tod's corner, and then obliges, making the tag to Tod. As Pete climbs back out to the corner, Tod quickly ascends the turnbuckle, and then leaps off, somersaulting into a swanton bomb, planting himself firmly across Frost's midsection. The audience pops for the high-risk move even as Frost expels some air due to the 227 pounder landing firmly on him.

 

"Lots of air time from Tod deKindes," says Stevens. "This rookie is hoping to make a solid impact in the ring tonight."

 

"Oh, that was an impact, all right," replies Riley, naturally misinterpreting Stevens' statement. "I think I heard a few of Frost's ribs crack under the pressure!"

 

Tod attempts to follow up his big aerial move with a cover over Frost.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THR-- NO! Frost kicks out just before the three count, surprising Tod with his resiliency. Within seconds both men are back on their feet. Tod doesn't let up, Irish whipping Frost into an unoccupied corner, and then running toward Frost for a spear that causes Frost to slump down into the ropes. Tod follows the spear up with an impressive double underhook belly to belly suplex.

 

"Nice sequence of moves from Tod deKindes," says Stevens. "He's really stepping up his game here tonight, taking it to Frost."

 

Tod goes for another cover attempt on Frost.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THRE-- NO! Frost gets his shoulder up this time, and shoves Tod away from him. The Iceman gets back to his feet, and as Tod moves toward him again, Frost is ready this time, knocking Tod off his feet with a massive lariat that actually sends Tod sailing end over end until he drops to the mat, lying on his back.

 

"Whoa!" hollers Riley. "Look at the air on that!"

 

"Hell Freezes Over from Frost," reports Stevens. "I think Tod deKindes really managed to piss him off."

 

This time a cocky Frost tries to cover Tod.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THR-- NO, Tod gets his shoulder up. Tod beats feet toward Pete's corner before Frost can do further damage and tags Pete back into the match. Pete approaches Frost, but the stronger Frost overpowers the Miami native, whipping him toward TNT's corner. TNT fires off a couple hard punches to Pete's upper body from behind the ropes, taking advantage while he can. Frost grabs hold of Pete with one hand and tags in TNT with the other. TNT climbs into the ring, and then both Magnificent Seven members begin pounding away on Pete. Tod tries to climb over the ropes into the ring in an open protestation of the opposing team's blatant double teaming of Longdogger Pete, but referee Matthew Kivell stands in front of Tod, holding him back, keeping him from entering the ring as an illegal man.

 

"That's it, stay out of the way," says Riley. "Just stand back and let them destroy your leader in peace."

 

"Now, Riley, that's not a very nice thing to say," counters Stevens.

 

"Since when have you ever known me to be nice?" Riley retorts.

 

Pete tries to battle back, throwing punches at TNT, but TNT ducks and Frost holds Pete even more firmly. Pete shakes free of Frost's iron grip and dives toward TNT, but TNT sidesteps and clips Pete's knee, while at the same time, Frost chucks an arm out to clothesline Pete. Pete takes a nasty tumble and lands on the mat.

 

"Ouch!" shouts Riley. "The dreaded Double Goozle from the dreaded Chilly Chilly Bang Bang tag team!"

 

Stevens just stares at Riley, saying nothing, his expression worth more than words.

 

"What? You don't appreciate the awesome destructive power of the Double Goozle? Fear the Double Goozle, Stevens! Fear it!"

 

"Good God, Riley!" hollers Stevens. "Come to your senses already!"

 

Frost steps back over the ropes just as the referee finishes with Tod and turns back to focus on the match again, with TNT now acting as the legal man. Pete gets back up and runs toward TNT, who counters with a swift Samoan drop. TNT pulls Pete back up, only to twist around into a three quarter neckbreaker, dropping Pete back down to the mat. TNT goes for a quick cover on Pete.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THR-- NO! Pete gets his shoulders up, but TNT doesn't let up. Both men get to their feet, but as Pete struggles to get up, TNT runs toward the ropes, bouncing himself off the ropes, and returning to leap into the air, driving a forearm across Pete's upper body. Both men tumble to the mat, but Pete has obviously taken the most abuse from the move. Pete starts to get up again, but TNT is ready, approaching from behind and wrapping his arms around Pete's waist. He tries to lift Pete backward, failing in his first attempt due to Pete's extra weight, but succeeds on the second attempt with a little more oomph. TNT drops Pete backwards into the mat in a textbook German suplex.

 

"TNT is picking up his pace," says Stevens, "and LDP looks winded already."

 

TNT holds Pete in place as he gets back up, and again swings Pete backward for a second German suplex... followed by a third. On the third, TNT releases Pete, and goes for a cover.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THRE-- NO! Tod deKindes runs into the ring and manages to kick TNT off Pete before the three count. Once again, the referee shoves Tod back toward the ropes, and once again Frost steps over the ropes himself, taking advantage of the referee's distraction for a little double team work. TNT and Frost both lay into Longdogger Pete with several stomps to his chest, beating down the Miami Menace. Frost gets back to his corner, once again just in time, as the easily distracted Matthew Kivell turns his attention back toward the match at hand. TNT then gets down on the mat, grabbing Pete's legs and maneuvering the X Force 9 leader into a Boston crab submission. Pete reaches out for the ropes, but can't quite reach them. Pete struggles valiantly to escape the submission hold that TNT has locked in. When reaching for the ropes fails, Pete instead tries to get to his corner, where his tag team partner, Tod deKindes, is waiting impatiently with his arm outstretched, ready to make the tag if Pete can get there. Pete reaches out, actually managing to move himself, and TNT, closer to the corner by about three feet. The distance isn't enough, as Pete can't quite make it all the way to Tod. Finally he manages to turn himself over, and lashes out with both legs, kicking TNT out of the way. Pete starts to get up toward Tod, but TNT is quicker, and grabs Pete from behind, positioning his leg around Pete's and tripping him backward in a Russian leg sweep. TNT then drags Pete over to his own corner again, tagging Frost back into the match.

 

"LDP just can't catch a break tonight!" observes Riley.

 

"TNT and Frost are decimating the X Force 9 leader," replies Stevens. "They're doing a good job of keeping Pete away from his partner, and totally dominating this match."

 

"I guess that's the real reason why Longdogger Pete is called the One Man Wrecking Crew," says Riley. "He absolutely sucks at tag matches!"

 

With Frost now in the ring, Pete's defense continues to weaken. Frost physically overpowers Pete as the two enter a standard collar and elbow lock up, then Frost pummels Pete with repetitive blows to the upper body. Pete is staggered back a step, which sets himself up as Frost grabs Pete and leaps forward, dropping Pete to the mat in a uranage suplex, better known as a Rock Bottom, but deemed a special name by Frost...

 

"It's the Ice Shelf!" hollers Mark Stevens. "Frost hits the Ice Shelf on LDP, and things are starting to look pretty bleak for the Miami Menace."

 

"Yeah," adds Riley, "I'd say the Doggah is about ready to, ahem, 'bow' out."

 

"You're pathetic, Riley," Stevens tells his broadcast partner.

 

"Well, at least I'm more entertaining than that last color commentator we had in the SWF," Riley replies. "I mean, come on! NTD? The Pantless Freak?"

 

"Welll, you may have a point there," Stevens submits.

 

Pete makes another valiant attempt to get up, but Frost is at the ready again, lifting Pete into a gut wrench suplex then sends Pete sprawling back on the mat. Frost is then ready with the cover to Pete...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THRE-- NO! Pete hangs on, kicking out in a close shave. Frost again lifts Pete to his feet, getting ready to perform something even more devastating... but suddenly, Pete is fighting back! Pete regains some desperately needed lost momentum by attacking Frost once again with his hard right overhand punches! Frost staggers back as Pete continues this assault, then Irish whips Frost off to the ropes! Frost is stunned by the sudden surge of strength in Longdogger Pete, operating on what seems to be his second wind! Frost helplessly ricochets off the ropes and is met with a big boot to the face from Pete. Frost bounces back up to his feet, but is manhandled again as Pete lifts him in the air and amazingly pulls off a Manhattan Drop to send the larger Frost back down to the mat! With Frost lying on his back, Pete decides to get daring. He quickly ascends the nearest turnbuckle, which happens to be an unoccupied one, and climbs to the top rope, signaling to the audience with his thumb and forefinger outstretched in an 'L' position. The audience begins to go nuts in anticipation.

 

"Look out below!" shouts Stevens. "Longdogger Legdrop coming!"

 

But before Pete can make the leap into the diving leg drop, TNT, standing at the adjacent turnbuckle, grabs the top rope and begins shaking it vigorously. The vibration of the turnbuckle is enough to knock Pete down from his standing position. Pete crotches himself on the turnbuckle as he tumbles, then falls down to the mat, clutching at his groin in severe pain.

 

Riley, naturally, bursts into laughter. "That had to hurt! I bet he won't be having any more kids now!"

 

"Frost and TNT are very effective as a tag team," says Stevens. "Too effective. LDP is in serious trouble. He needs to make a tag or he's going to lose this match for his team, but Frost and TNT are doing a good job of preventing him from tagging in his partner, Tod deKindes!"

 

Frost lifts Pete up to a standing position. Pete, still smarting from the tumble off the turnbuckle, offers no resistance. Frost grabs Pete by the neck and supports his grip with another hand clutched against Pete's back. Frost lifts his opponent clear into the air and then slams the hapless Longdogger Pete back to the mat in a powerful choke slam that reverberates throughout the ring.

 

"Oh! A nasty chokeslam from Frost," says Stevens. "And Frost could have a win here."

 

Frost tries again for a cover on LDP...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THRE-- NO! Pete just barely manages to get his shoulder up! And Frost is clearly ticked off by this turn of events!

 

"How the hell did LDP manage to hang on there?" Riley wonders aloud.

 

"He may be facing a bigger and tougher opponent today," Stevens replies, "but there's no denying this veteran's competitive spirit is one of the fiercest in the game."

 

"I'll deny it if I want to," Riley argues.

 

Frost and Pete are back to their feet again, and Frost looks to pick up some speed for a power move. He wrenches Pete's arm and pulls him toward the ropes in a whip. Pete picks up speed as he runs helpless toward the ropes and bounces back; however, he ducks a massive Frost clothesline on the return trip! Frost appears shocked and starts to turn around as Pete runs all the way to the opposite set of ropes. Frost runs after Pete as Pete clutches onto the ropes, stopping his momentum. Pete stands with his back to the ropes, clutching the top rope with both arms wrapped around it, and assaults Frost with a BIG BOOT OF DOOM! Frost drops to the mat, caught off guard by Pete's counterattack. Frost struggles to regain his bearings, but Pete comes running after him, leaps upward and swings around Frost while clutching his neck, pulling him down in a swinging neckbreaker! Pete comes down hard on this move as well, and for a moment, neither man moves.

 

"Well, it looked like LDP was starting to get his momentum back," says Stevens, "but I think that swinging neckbreaker hurt himself in addition to Frost!"

 

With both men lying on the mat, the chase is on, as both Pete and Frost begin to inch their way over toward their respective corners to try to tag in their tag partners; however, both make little progress in the first few seconds. Finally, they become pressed for time, as referee Matthew Kivell notices neither man is standing and begins to count his way toward a count out finish.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THREE!

 

 

FOUR!

 

 

Pete and Frost continue to get closer to their corners, crawling ever so slowly, and the audience begins to go crazy with anticipation. A loud chant of "XF9! XF9!" breaks out in some sections of the crowd.

 

 

 

FIVE!

 

 

SIX!

 

 

SEVEN!

 

 

Finally, Pete summons up enough energy to leap upward, in a last ditch effort, and slaps the outstretched hand of Tod deKindes, causing the audience to roar in approval as Tod becomes the legal man and steps into the ring. On the opposite side of the ring, Frost also manages to make a tag to "TNT" Taylor Nicholas Thompson.

 

Things heat up with both Tod and TNT in the ring. Suddenly X Force 9 begins to pick up their pace. Tod quickly downs TNT in a clothesline as the Magnificent Seven member tries to rush him. Frost runs into the ring, but Tod quickly knocks him over as well with another well timed lariat. TNT is back up to his feet, and Frost gets up as well, but the referee quickly shoves Frost back against the ropes, forcing the now illegal man to step back over to his own corner. TNT comes after Tod again, but Tod is ready, running to the side of the ring and jumping into the air. Tod 's feet land on the second rope, and he bounces off the ropes, hurtling back toward TNT and scoring with a massive drop kick to take down the smaller of the two Magnificent Seven members. Unfortunately, instead of falling over, TNT staggers backward several steps, colliding with the referee. Both TNT and Matthew Kivell fall to the mat, but Kivell seems to have taken the brunt of the fall, and is knocked unconscious.

 

"Uh oh, ref bump!" hollers Riley. "Damn referees really ought to get their acts together!"

 

Tod deKindes picks TNT up off the mat, and whips him to the ropes for some momentum. As TNT careens off the ropes and runs helplessly back toward Tod, Tod catches him, setting him up in position for a pumphandle slam, a considerable achievement given TNT's size advantage over Tod.

 

"Tod deKindes is going for the Spirit Breaker!" shouts Stevens. "This could be over right here!"

 

Tod begins to go through the motions of the pumphandle slam that would eventually lead into the Michinoku driver that is Tod's finisher, but Frost gets into the act, sneaking up behind Tod with one fist clenched and pulling out a low blow. The referee is still unconscious and so doesn't notice Frost's blatantly illegal move. Tod drops TNT and falls to the mat in pain from the low blow as the audience begins jeering at the Magnificent Seven's cheating.

 

"Well, so much for X Force 9's momentum," comments Riley. "It was a good try though. Bye, guys, see you again next month."

 

TNT rolls out of the ring, and Frost lifts up Tod for some further damage, holding Tod up with his body buckled forward. Frost drops backward, slamming Tod face first into the mat with an Impaler DDT.

 

"Ice Pick!" shouts Stevens. "Big slam on Tod deKindes by Frost."

 

And Frost goes for a cover!

 

"This could be it!" shouts Riley. "Frost has a cover on Tod!"

 

"But Frost isn't the legal man!" Stevens protests.

 

"Wait... it doesn't matter because the referee's still down!" Riley adds.

 

Sure enough, Matthew Kivell is still unconscious, with no signs of recovering any time soon. Frost gets upset and shoves Tod out of his way, getting back to his feet. TNT then climbs back into the ring, but now he has something in his hands... a weapon of some sort...

 

"Oh, NO!" cries Stevens. "TNT has pulled out his trademarked aluminum bat! It must have been hidden under the ring!"

 

"Awesome!" exclaims Riley.

 

"How can you say that?" Stevens wonders. "TNT could kill someone with that thing!"

 

"Yeah! Violence! Destruction! All in all, the makings of a great show!"

 

Longdogger Pete runs in to attack TNT, but Frost holds Pete back, and the two begin exchanging blows. Meanwhile, TNT approaches the fallen Tod deKindes, smiling menacingly as he raises the aluminum bat over his head, intent on doing some serious damage to the rookie X Force 9 member.

 

Suddenly another man comes running down the ramp, and the audience begins cheering! The announcers don't pick up on this disturbance at first, but as he closes the distance toward the ring, they finally take notice.

 

"Who the hell is that?" asks Riley.

 

"Oh, my God," replies Stevens. "It's... it's...

 

...RENEGADE!"

 

The newest member of the SWF, having just been called up from the Junior League, Renegade causes a monster pop from the audience once the fans recognize exactly who has just run in on the match. Renegade quickly slides into the ring, just as TNT is raising his arms to strike Tod with the bat, and runs full speed at TNT, catching him by the neck and twisting him backward into a three quarter neckbreaker and dropping him hard to the mat in the style of a Diamond cutter...

 

"RENEBREAK!" shouts Stevens. "Renebreak to TNT!"

 

TNT, now quite down for the count right alongside Tod, drops the aluminum bat, which Renegade picks up and tosses outside the ring where it won't cause any unwanted interference in the match. In the meantime, Renegade (the interference the audience apparently WANTS to see) pulls Tod's lifeless form closer to TNT's similarly lifeless form, draping Tod's arm over TNT. Renegade then checks on the referee, trying to rouse him back to wakefulness to call the match.

 

"Renegade has pulled Tod over TNT!" exclaims Stevens. "Renegade may have just cost the Magnificent Seven their match!"

 

"Cheating! Interference! Call it, ref!" hollers Riley. "Oh wait, the referee's still down. Damn!"

 

At this point Frost notices Renegade's interference, his rage intensifying by the moment. He shoves Pete aside and chases after Renegade, who suddenly realizes he's worn out his welcome and takes off, dropping to the mat and rolling out of the ring. Frost climbs out of the ring as well, chasing Renegade around the ring, staying hot on his heels.

 

"If the referee wakes up then X Force 9 has this match won!" exclaims Stevens. "But why is Renegade helping Pete and Tod?"

 

"Better limo accommodations?" is the first thing that comes to Riley's mind, and is enough for Stevens to shoot him yet another blank look.

 

Finally, Matthew Kivell does indeed begin to wake up, roused by Renegade's vigorous shaking before Renegade was forced out of the ring by Frost. He takes a moment to get his bearings, then notices an unconscious Tod deKindes lying atop the similarly unconscious Taylor Nicholas Thompson. Thinking quickly (as quickly as he can in his semi-conscious haze), he bends over to make the count!

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THREE! NO! NO! TNT has his shoulder up! Incredibly, TNT has hung on to this match, coming around and getting the shoulder up just in the nick of time!

 

"And this match continues!" shouts Stevens. "Unbelievable! TNT has kicked out of the Renebreak!"

 

"That's because it took too damn long for the referee to wake up!" Riley replies.

 

TNT starts to get up, shoving Tod out of his way, but Tod is starting to regain consciousness as well. TNT is the first one back to his feet, but Frost's abandonment of the match to chase after Renegade has left TNT alone with both members of X Force 9. Tod is still trying to recover, but Longdogger Pete is still very much awake. Therefore, TNT runs toward Pete, hoping to do some damage, but Pete is ready for him, and shoves a knee into TNT's face, staggering him back several steps. Pete capitalizes next by aiming a well placed kick into TNT's chest, causing him to buckle forward. Pete grabs TNT by the shoulders and drops him backward into the mat in a modified DDT. TNT lands hard on his stomach, and impacts so hard that he flops over onto his back.

 

"CLOGGER!" hollers Stevens. "Longdogger Clogger to TNT!"

 

"No!" Riley shouts back. "It can't be!"

 

"And Pete again goes for a cover!" adds Stevens.

 

Sure enough, Pete hooks TNT's leg, hoping to win the match after his finisher, the Longdogger Clogger.

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THREE-- NO! Again TNT gets his shoulder up, preventing the pinfall!

 

"How long is this match going to continue?" Stevens wonders. "TNT is absolutely refusing to go down!"

 

"Hey, isn't Tod the legal man?" wonders Riley.

 

"I guess the referee got confused!" answers Stevens. "There's so much action going on in this matchup, it's intense! I can hardly follow it myself!"

 

"But you're the play by play man!" argues Riley. "So do your damned job!"

 

Outside the ring, Frost has caught up to Renegade, hammering the newest member of the SWF with repeated blows to the upper body. Frost tries to overpower Renegade, and the attempt is working, until Frost goes to Irish whip Renegade toward the security barrier. Renegade manages to reverse the whip, sending Frost into the barrier instead, and then Renegade runs behind Frost and leaps up, landing across Frost's back in a modified fame asser that drives Frost's head into the barrier! Renegade brushes himself off as Frost drops to the floor.

 

"Renegade took out Frost without even breaking a sweat!" notes Riley.

 

Meanwhile, back in the ring, TNT is getting back to his feet again, absolutely refusing to lose this match. Unfortunately for TNT, Tod deKindes has also managed to get to his feet, and he shoves TNT forward toward Pete. Pete grabs TNT by the waist and then lifts him into the air, slamming him down to the mat on his back, effectively distracting TNT as Tod ascends the closest turnbuckle.

 

"Uh oh, what's going on here?" Stevens wonders aloud.

 

Tod gets to the top rope, and Pete picks TNT up again, grabbing him by the waist and lifting him high into the air, shoving him up into place as if going for a powerbomb. Instead, however, Tod leaps off the top rope, and as flashbulbs explode throughout the arena, capturing this incredible moment, Tod performs a diving clothesline to TNT in mid-air! All three men come crashing down to the mat, though TNT is obviously the most damaged of the three. And the audience is going wild!

 

"Unbelievable! What a great double team move from Longdogger Pete and Tod deKindes!" hollers Stevens.

 

"Foul!" cries Riley. "Foul!"

 

Tod recovers from his devastating aerial move and flops an arm over TNT in one more try at a cover.

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

DING DING!

 

"Here are your winners," shouts Funyon over the microphone to an ecstatic audience, "and number one contenders to the SWF Tag Team Championships... LOOOOOOONGDOGGER PETE and TOOOOD DEEEEEEEKINDESSSSS!"

 

"Operate Annihilate" hits the speakers again to a positive crowd reaction. Inside the ring, Matthew Kivell raises one of Pete's arms as well as one of Tod's. Renegade then slides into the ring, and Pete and Tod celebrate by raising either one of Renegade's arms in the air as well.

 

"There you have it!" announces Stevens. "Longdogger Pete and Tod deKindes of X Force 9 topple Frost and Taylor Nicholas Thompson of the Magnificent Seven--"

 

"You mean, Chilly Chilly Bang Bang!" replies Riley.

 

Stevens continues as if Riley hadn't spoken. "--and become the new number one contenders to the tag team titles, earning themselves a shot against Edwin MacPhisto and Chris Raynor of the Midnight Carnival in impressive fashion, with the help of some timely interference from the latest SWF recruit, Renegade! Now, I can't confirm anything, but it would appear that Renegade has just become the newest member of X Force 9!"

 

"Stevens, that would mean that X Force 9 has added two new members in one night!" Riley realizes.

 

"X Force 9's roster has indeed increased by two, and they are quickly becoming an impressive force in the SWF! Who knows what's next for this new team? Anyway, don't go away, as we'll be right back with our next match here at SWF Ground Zero!"

[Guest Rabbi_wilson13]

Edwin...that was great. Your finish was soooo good with Z and Stevens' hold, and I see what you wanted done with Silent. That was so close, man, and you didn't let your team down at all. Not by a long shot.

[Guest TheBostonStrangler]

Well, here's the match that lost to Taylor.

 

 

 

 

The Key Arena is filled to the brim with 20,000 rollicking Seattle natives who are screaming themselves hoarse. “Let’s Start a War” by the Exploited can barely be heard over the frenzied fans, still crazed from the match between X Force 9 and the Magnificent Seven for the #1 Contendership to the Tag Team Titles. The ring, looking lonely in the massive space where the second ring will be constructed, is being checked by maintenance crews as the fans watch some sample clips from the newest SWF DVD: The Midnight Carnival: The Gang’s All Here (except for Spark). As the finish to Edwin MacPhisto’s first title victory against the HVille Thugg is displayed to a HUGE pop from the Carnie fans in the arena, Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley return to the airwaves.

 

“WELCOME BACK TO GROUND ZERO! As always, this is Mark Stevens alongside Bobby Riley, and we are witnessing one of the greatest PPV’s that our company has ever put on!”

 

“Stevens, I won’t disagree with you for once! There are so many incredible memories from this PPV so far! Jay Dawg’s hardcore massacre with LDP’s chosen man! The Ultimate Submission clinic put on by El Luchadore Magnifico and Tom Flesher! Even the last match we just witnessed, a tag team brawl between Tod DeKindes and Longdogger Pete of XF9 against Chilly Chilly Bang Bang, Frost and TNT of the Magnificent Seven truly impressed.”

 

“Well, we have another Magnificent Seven/X Force 9 battle coming up, as two extremely heated rivalries, the Boston Strangler and Erek Taylor, square off for the SWF ICTV Title! This match has been brewing since Strangler returned to the SWF, and Erek Taylor won that ICTV Title at Snake Eyes!”

 

“This is a feud that came solely from Taylor’s carelessness and stupidity! He called out the Boston Strangler, suspecting him of foul play between him and Longdogger Pete! Strangler merely came out in order to protect his good name! Taylor then berated him, gave him the Fame and Fury, and had the fans throw GARBAGE at him! Strangler is completely justified in WHATEVER he does to that punk Taylor!”

 

“I think Strangler did enough to get his revenge by interfering in a tag match between XF9 and the Clan! But Strangler wasn’t done! He had his right hand men stalking TNT, and Frost and TNT did a number on Taylor more than once!”

 

“Now Stevens, a beatdown…”

 

“…with an ALUMINUM BAT…”

 

“…a beatdown is ONE thing. But costing Strangler a shot at the SWF Title itself? Now THAT was just plain cruel by Erek Taylor!”

 

“Strangler didn’t waste any time getting revenge, however. He got TNT to assault Taylor immediately after the match, then had TNT and Frost out there again the next night to do his dirty work! Too bad that Strangler didn’t have their help when he was in the ring, tapping like a little girl! Then Taylor taught all THREE men a lesson when he destroyed their car!”

 

“How can you condone that? He could have KILLED Strangler and Frost! And I’m sure someone would have missed TNT too! Taylor crossed a line with what he did to Strangler! He destroyed his public image with false statements, which is grounds for prosecution…”

 

“So is assault with a deadly weapon.”

 

“Exactly! That car could have killed Strangler! Not to mention cruel and unusual punishment by costing Strangler the most important thing in his life with that blatantly biased referee work, which is also breaking some law I can’t think of. Erek Taylor basically broke half the rules in the Constitution! I think Taylor just hates America or something!”

 

“I never would have thought that the color man who REPLACED NTD would end up being more bizarre. Anyways, these two men now have a chance to settle their differences. Erek Taylor announced a stipulation where there would be no Magnificent Seven interference in the match, leveling the playing field for the first time in this rivalry. And Strangler demanded a Street Fight instead of a normal match, as Strangler felt a need to counter Taylor’s obvious advantages in speed, technical ability, and overall talent with weapons.”

 

“Well THAT was a glowing endorsement of Strangler. When Wilson finally takes over this joint, I’m SO telling Strangler that you said that.”

 

“Strangler and the rest of the Magnificent Losers aren’t EVER gonna run this place. But now, it’s time for a huge ICTV matchup, where ANYTHING, with the exception of M7 interference, goes. Strangler and Taylor are gonna find out just who is the better man! We take you live to Funyon in the ring, who is ready to get this penultimate match of the evening underway!”

 

“Penultimate?”

 

“It’s a word that means that you suck.”

 

“OK….hey!”

 

The arena suddenly goes dark, with the SmarkTron™ turning completely black, a slight glow radiating from it. The arena is enveloped in noise, with boos mixing with “Burn to Burn” by Static X as the Boston Strangler arrives on the top of the ramp. Strangler stands on the top, staring at the thousands of venomous fans who jeer him as he steps forward, a sarcastic grin on his face. Strangler shuffles along the ramp as a metal chain he has wrapped around his shoulder rattles with each plodding step. Strangler glances at the weight on his shoulder before continuing his heavy stride down the ramp.

 

“This match is a STREETFIGHT, and it is for the SWF ICTV TITLE! First, the CHALLENGER, from BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS, weighing in at 303 POUNDS, representing the MAGNIFICENT SEVEN….the BOSTON STRRRRRRANGLER!”

 

Strangler reaches the bottom of the ramp, and takes a quick step forward before sliding under the bottom rope. Strangler rolls onto his side and hops to his feet, a fired up look on his face. He drops the chain to the mat with a loud THUNK! before removing his trenchcoat. He tosses the coat out of the ring, where it lands directly in front of the announce table. Strangler then reaches down and retrieves the chain again. Strangler walks to one side of the ring, and extends the chain into the air, taunting the crowd. The boos increase as “Burn to Burn” slowly fades away. The boos disappear as the fans ignore Strangler, instead turning toward the entrance. Suddenly, the dim arena explodes with lights flashing everywhere. Strangler shields his eyes, as do many of the people in the crowd, as “Downfall” by Trust Company begins to crank through the arena.

 

"Can I break away? Push me away....

Watch 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..."

 

"No one can see anything on the other side of me!"

"I walk! I crawl! Losing everything, ready for a downfall!"

 

The words are barely audible throughout the arena as the cheers are nearly deafening. Suddenly, a GIGANTIC blast of pyro drowns out all noise in the arena. As the boom subsides, a giant cloud of smoke is the only thing visible on the entrance ramp. As the smoke slowly drifts away, and the cheers lull slightly, a small figure comes charging through the smoke, re-energizing the fans. As Erek Taylor arrives on the top of the ramp, the fans, especially the females in the crowd, go crazy as the ICTV Champion looks around, surveying the hysteria in the arena. Taylor bounces on his feet once, twice, then leaps high into the air before landing on his feet and jogging toward the ring, his smile locked tightly on his face and his ICTV Title locked around his waist.

 

“And the CHAMPION, weighing in at 195 POUNDS, from ANAHEIM, CALIFORNIA, representing X FORCE NINE, he is the SWF ICTV CHAMPION, EREK……TAYLLLLLLLLLLOR!”

 

Taylor reaches the ring, and hops from the ground onto the apron before quickly planting his hands on the top rope, and vaulting over it. He lands hard on his feet, and sprints to the corner, leaping onto the second turnbuckle. Taylor rips the title belt off his waist before holding it high in the air. Strangler looks on from the opposite corner, staring at the ICTV Title with an expression of anxiety on his face. Taylor hops off and turns around, staring directly at Strangler. Strangler’s face twists into one of rage as he stares at the smaller man who holds the ICTV Title in his hands. Strangler watches as Taylor hands the title to the referee, giving him instructions. “Now take good care of that baby. I’m gonna need it back in about 20 minutes” instructs Taylor before turning back to face his opponent. He turns, and sees Strangler charging at him. Before Taylor can duck, Strangler’s forearm lariats Taylor, sending him tumbling to the mat. The referee tosses the title to the outside, and signals for the ring bell to begin the match.

 

DING DING DING!!!

 

“Strangler wastes NO time in going after Taylor! This match is underway, and Strangler wants it over as soon as possible!”

 

“THERE’S a shocker. Strangler wants to win fast. Stevens, you might have finally gotten us that Emmy!”

 

Strangler begins the match with a series of hard kicks to the ribcage of Erek Taylor, sending the Anaheim native rolling out of the ring in order to escape the early assault. Strangler stays on the inside, staring at Taylor, who pauses, regrouping from the quick assault by Strangler. Strangler watches as Taylor shakes his head, then rolls back into the ring, unimpaired by Strangler, who stands in a corner, watching Taylor as he slips to his feet. Taylor walks around the edge of the ring as the crowd pops for Taylor. Strangler grows impatient, and stalks into the middle of ring, where he extends his hands, looking for a tie-up with Taylor.

 

“Riley, you HAVE to be kidding me! Strangler wants to lock up with Taylor! Taylor would be a fool to go ahead with that!”

 

“Well, looks like your fool isn’t gonna listen to you…”

 

Sure enough, Taylor is approaching Strangler, with both his arms extended. Strangler, who stands nearly a foot taller than Taylor, looks surprised that Taylor has accepted Strangler’s challenge. Strangler sets himself and reaches forward to lock up with Erek, but Taylor quickly hops backwards, then sends a lightning fast kick slamming into Strangler’s stomach. Strangler’s arms drop to his side as he breathes in sharply, surprised by Taylor’s deceit. The crowd cheers as Taylor sends his right foot crashing into Strangler’s side again, followed by a hard left to Strangler’s hip. Strangler bends slightly, and Taylor leaps into the air before landing a spinning heel kick squarely on Strangler’s jaw. The big man lurches backwards, nearly falling over before landing against the ropes. Taylor charges towards Strangler, and launches himself into the air, planting both feet in Strangler’s ribcage. Strangler tries to keep his balance, but fails and goes toppling over the top rope, landing on his back on the outside directly in front of the announce table. The fans cheer as Taylor momentarily celebrates his minor victory before slipping under the ropes and hopping to the outside.

 

“Taylor showing off his speed and intellect, and making Strangler look like a complete fool all at once! A highly successful start for Taylor!”

 

Strangler pushes himself up, groaning slightly as Taylor fumbles around underneath the ring, looking for something. Taylor starts to drag out a garbage can, which gets a cheer from the fans, who are glad to see the brutality in the match beginning early. Taylor pins the large garbage can against his abdomen and turns around, only to be met with a massive boot to the face by Strangler. Taylor drops on his back, releasing the garbage can as he hits the floor hard. The can rolls away as Strangler stops to breathe for a moment before reaching down for Erek Taylor. Strangler grabs ahold of Taylor’s spiky blond hair and pulls him up, grabbing onto the shoulder of his basketball jersey for added control over Taylor. Strangler turns to face the corner, then charges toward the corner, with Taylor in tow. Strangler rushes forward before slamming to a stop and propelling Taylor face-first into the steel ring post. Strangler releases his grip on Taylor as he clangs off the ring post, and drops to the canvas, looking slightly dazed. Kivell begins to admonish Strangler, but Strangler ignores him, knowing that there’s nothing he can do.

 

“Strangler is taking advantage of the Streetfight stip early, taking it hard to Taylor, courtesy of a steel ring post.”

 

“Strangler is looking like he should in a matchup like this, or any matchup with Taylor at all: In control. Strangler knows how to fight these matches, and Taylor doesn’t, and it shows here.”

 

Strangler grabs at Taylor, pulling him off the floor and to his feet. Strangler turns around 180 degrees, and aims back at the corner from where he came. He grabs ahold of Taylor’s jersey once again, and charges forward. Taylor stumbles slightly as Strangler rumbles along before smashing Taylor’s face into the ring post. Taylor recoils, but Strangler holds onto him this time, keeping Taylor from hitting the mat. Strangler then turns around again, and charges back toward the first post. Strangler picks up speed, going even faster than before. Suddenly, Taylor manages to slip out of Strangler’s grasp, and plants both hands on Strangler’s back, shoving the big man forward while out of control. Strangler slams into the ring post with his shoulder, drawing a cheer from the post. Strangler bounces away and drops to both knees, holding his left shoulder. Taylor walks backwards a few steps, and grabs the garbage can he had taken out earlier. The fans go crazy as Taylor picks up the metal cylinder, holding it aloft with one hand.

 

“Taylor has the garbage can, and Strangler is too busy with his injured shoulder to notice! Not a good sign for Strangler, who could be in imminent danger right here!”

 

Taylor brings the garbage can down, and holds it with both hands. Strangler is still testing his injured shoulder on his knees as Kivell kneels by Strangler, checking to see if he’s OK. Strangler looks up, and the referee suddenly bolts, leaving Strangler by himself. Strangler smirks in satisfaction and looks up to see Erek Taylor running along the top of the announce table, with the fans going nuts, and Grand Slam restraining Riley to make sure Erek Taylor doesn’t “accidentally” trip. Strangler just stares as Taylor, garbage can still in his hands, dives off the table headfirst, leading with the garbage can. The garbage can smashes into Strangler’s head with a huge CRUNCH, drawing a giant cheer from the fans as Strangler falls straight backwards onto the mat, where he lies motionless. Taylor releases the garbage can and goes into a roll, somersaulting before hopping to his feet.

 

“That was absolutely SENSATIONAL! Taylor just pulled off a spectacular move!”

 

“He wouldn’t have if you hadn’t been such a goody two-shoes and grabbed my arms…”

 

“Riley, we’ve had this conversation! Interfering in matches is BAD!”

 

“But it feels so right…”

 

“OK, now you’re creeping me out…”

 

Taylor looks down at Strangler, who is moving slightly on the floor, staring over at the garbage can with an imprint of his face in it. Taylor hops forward and climbs up onto the crowd barrier, slowly turning to keep his balance. Strangler continues to lie on the ground as Taylor readies himself, then jumps off the crowd barrier toward Strangler. Taylor crashes across Strangler’s windpipe with a guillotine legdrop, knocking the wind straight out of Strangler. Taylor rolls over onto Strangler for the cover as the crowd begins to cheer.

 

“First cover of the match! Here we go!”

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

T….

 

 

“And Strangler just threw Taylor off of him! Strangler must have launched Taylor about four feet in the air!”

 

“An emphatic message from Strangler, Stevens. This match is still young, and Strangler has PLENTY left, despite the best that Erek Taylor has!”

 

“Despite Strangler’s assertive kickout, Taylor is still in control of this match!”

 

Strangler rolls over onto his side and starts to push himself up as Taylor bounds effortlessly to his feet, looking even more energetic than he did at the beginning of the match. Taylor takes a step backwards, then charges toward Strangler, who is still on one knee. Strangler looks off to the side, and sees Taylor dropping down and flying towards him with a dropkick. Strangler drops to the mat and watches as the High Flying Prince narrowly misses him, flying overhead before crashing to the ground hard on his side. The raucous fans die down as Strangler happily resumes getting to his feet while Taylor reaches back, clutching his hip. Strangler uses the ring apron for some support as he gets to his feet, a demented look on his face. Strangler reaches down and pulls Taylor up in one swift jerk by Taylor’s hair, drawing a yowl from Erek. Taylor struggles as Strangler palms the back of Taylor’s head in his right hand and marches Erek toward the announce table, where Riley and Grand Slam are sitting.

 

“Riley, remember, NO INTERFERENCE!”

 

“Strangler doesn’t need any help! He’s got it under control!”

 

Strangler brings his right arm back, still attached to Erek’s head, before smashing Erek face-first into the front of the announce table. The front panel of the announce table, complete with SWF logo, comes loose and slides a small ways down the table as Taylor bounces back, still firmly attached to Strangler’s hand. Strangler rears back again before smashing Taylor’s face into the announce table again. The front panel goes flying off the table before landing against the edge of the table at Riley’s feet. Strangler leans back yet again, and introduces Erek’s face to the announce table again before dropping Taylor against the table, where he lies. Strangler looks down, and spies the front panel from the announce table before picking it up to a small jeer from the people in the front rows. Strangler ignores the fans as he picks up the board and readies himself, looking at Taylor, who continues to recuperate while hunched over on the announce table.

 

“Strangler has that front panel of our announce table, and he’s coming for…no, don’t do it!”

 

Grand Slam’s pleas go unanswered as Strangler crashes the heavy wooden panel across the back of Erek Taylor’s skull. Taylor slides forward slightly and lies motionless against the table as Strangler drops the wooden panel. Strangler reaches down and grabs the motionless body of Erek Taylor, and grabs him by the back of his black basketball jersey. He yanks on the fabric harshly, drawing a limp Erek Taylor to his feet. Strangler keeps his grip on the back of Taylor’s shirt and brings him around to his right side. Strangler locks both hands onto the back of Taylor’s shirt, then charges forward toward the corner of the ring. Strangler throws Taylor forward, who goes tumbling forward into the ring steps. The top piece of the stairs is knocked off its mooring as Taylor rolls onto his side, where he lies as Strangler walks over, a satisfied look on his face.

 

“Strangler has begun a systematic destruction of Taylor, Stevens! I would NOT want to be in Erek Taylor’s position!”

 

“Taylor has proven on more than one occasion that he can hang with Strangler, dish out MAJOR punishment, and still come back to get the better of him. I’m not counting Taylor out, and the fans don’t seem to have counted him out either!”

 

Grand Slam’s words are accompanied by a chant of “TAYLOR! TAYLOR! TAYLOR!” which starts to gain ground throughout the building. Strangler looks up angrily, surprised at the chant for the man who is lying at his feet. Strangler’s face contorts into a scowl, and he stomps over to the piece of the ring steps that was knocked away by Taylor. Strangler reaches down and effortlessly lifts the piece of the steps with his right hand. Strangler looks down at Taylor, who is lying with his head on top of the bottom piece to the ring stairs while knocked completely senseless. Strangler readies the ring steps, and then drops them down squarely onto Taylor’s head, drawing a groan from the crowd. Erek Taylor simply slips off the base of the ring steps and falls back to the mat, knocked silly from the blow, as Strangler taunts the crowd, drawing even more boos from the nearby audience.

 

“Strangler nailed Taylor with an absolutely brutal shot to the head with the ring steps! He could have killed Taylor with that!”

 

“Good riddance! Do it again and finish him off, Strangler!”

 

Strangler drops the top piece of the ring steps, which bounce off next to the ring bell table as Strangler reaches down and grabs the bottom piece of the steps to the ring. Strangler locks his hands around the large piece of equipment and places it on the ground outside, parallel to the announce table. As Erek Taylor begins to stir, looking around as if coming out of a deep sleep, Strangler reaches over for the top piece of the ring steps and places it on top of the bottom piece, reassembling the steps. Strangler then walks back over to the ring bell table and knocks down the timekeeper with a hard shove. As the timekeeper falls off his chair, Strangler grabs the chair, and folds it up before walking over to the assembled ring steps and Erek Taylor. The crowd buzzes, wondering what Strangler has in store for Taylor next while Strangler looks down at the battered body of Erek Taylor, who is crawling to his feet. Strangler reaches back with the chair, and crashes it down over Erek Taylor’s head. The THWACK! of the chair shot echoes throughout the arena before being engulfed by the boos for Strangler. Strangler ignores the noise of the crowd and walks away from the prone figure of Taylor, writhing in pain on the ground. Strangler sets the chair down directly in front of Grand Slam Mark Stevens, who looks on with a puzzled expression on his face, unable to figure out what exactly Strangler has planned.

 

“Riley, do you have any clue what Strangler is trying to accomplish through all of this construction work out here?”

 

“Can’t say I do, Mark, but I’d hire this guy! He’s one heck of a construction worker!”

 

Strangler heads back to Erek Taylor, who offers no resistance as Strangler drags him to his feet once again and leads him over to the chair he has set up. Strangler drapes Taylor over the metal folding chair, taking care to make sure that Erek doesn’t fall off. As Taylor slumps over, looking for all the world like a man with a broken spirit, Strangler heads for the stairs, his gaze never wavering from Erek Taylor’s small, hammered body.

 

“What a gentleman! Strangler noticed that Taylor was looking a little under the weather and got him a chair! What a gentleman!”

 

“Yeah, he’s something, isn’t he? Where’s the Nobel Peace Prize people when you need ‘em, Riley?”

 

“Probably somewhere stupid like a human rights conference or something…look! Strangler’s coming to check in on his guest!”

 

Strangler has climbed the stairs, and is waiting on the top step, looking like he’s having trouble keeping his balance. The crowd begins a faint cheer, hoping that Strangler will slip up on the risky maneuver. Strangler adjusts himself slightly, then leaps forward at Taylor, leading with his elbow. As Strangler hovers through the air, Erek Taylor drops off the chair and to the floor next to the ring apron. As Strangler watches Taylor dodging out of the way, his face sinks into a frown before he squarely crashes into the chair, smashing his elbow and face into the chair. Strangler crumples onto the chair, his head and chest resting against the cold, hard metal while his legs trail behind him on the ground. The crowd is roaring as Taylor slowly pulls himself onto the ring apron. Erek walks along the ring apron to the corner so that he’s looking at Strangler’s face, partially hidden by the chair back. Taylor smiles slightly before taking two or three hard, running steps along the ring apron and leaping off. Strangler shuts his eyes just as Taylor crashes into the chair with a dropkick. The chair collapses over Strangler, and Strangler falls hard onto his face, connecting hard with the unforgiving padding below. Taylor rolls onto his side, obviously drained from the efforts of a minute ago, while Strangler pushes his face off the ground, looking shocked at the turn of events.

 

“What a comeback from Taylor! Strangler’s elaborate plan, probably TOO elaborate, backfires on him, and Taylor is RIGHT back in this match!”

 

“Still, both men are done, and Taylor has taken a far more severe beating tonight than Strangler has! No matter what just happened, Strangler still has the advantage!”

 

“It all comes down to who can take the early advantage here after both men are down! Whoever does make it to their feet first is definitely the competitor in better shape!”

 

Taylor and Strangler are both on all fours, with Taylor using the ring apron as a means of helping himself up. Meanwhile, Strangler has crawled toward the announce table, where Riley is ranting at Strangler, trying to urge the big Bostonian to his feet: “C’mon Strangler, go get that Taylor punk! You can do it!” As Riley continues to scream at Strangler, drawing a burning stare from Strangler, Taylor reaches his feet, and walks over to Strangler. Taylor grabs Strangler’s beefy shoulder with one arm, and the waistband of his pants with the other, and forces Strangler towards the ring. Strangler feels Taylor shove him forward, and Strangler goes rolling into the ring, with Kivell and Taylor sliding in after him.

 

“And the match has returned to the somewhat safer confines of the ring, where you have to figure that Taylor has his best chance to win this match!”

 

“I tend to disagree, Stevens.”

 

“Now THERE’S a surprise.”

 

“No, seriously! Outside the ring, Taylor can compensate for his lack of size with weapons. Here, it’s just one man versus one man, and Strangler is obviously a difficult man to defeat one on one. I think it would be to Taylor’s advantage to keep things on the outside and try and neutralize Strangler’s massive size advantage whenever possible.”

 

“Interesting point, Riley, but I think…and Taylor is on the attack with a series of hard kicks to the stomach!”

 

Strangler recoils, caught by surprise by the rejuvenated Taylor, who continues to pound shot after shot into Strangler’s midsection. Taylor slows down the kicks as the crowd begins to chant along with Taylor, adding more emphasis to each kick. “SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE!” As the crowd continues to chant along, the kicks rise in intensity, as proclaimed by the look of increasing pain on Strangler’s face, who continues to shuffle on his side around the ring, trying to escape the lightning-quick feet of the High Flying Prince. As Strangler backs up against the bottom turnbuckle, Taylor winds up with his foot before sending it flying forward as hard as he can. The kick connects with Strangler’s left shoulder, sending a howl up from Strangler as the crowd screams out “TWENTY!” Strangler grabs his left shoulder again, looking like he had been shot, as Taylor quickly scrambles around Strangler and climbs onto the apron. As Taylor begins to scale the turnbuckles, drawing a cheer of anticipation from the crowd. Strangler drops onto his right side, perpendicular to the corner, as he keeps his left shoulder off the canvas, trying to relieve the pressure on the injured joint. Strangler suddenly realizes that he has no clue where Taylor is, and looks around for the High Flying Prince, trying to figure out where he escaped to. Suddenly, Taylor comes crashing down out of the air, landing hard on Strangler’s shoulder with a corkscrew moonsault.

 

“Last Scene from Taylor! This one could be over here!”

 

Strangler reaches for his shoulder, but his arms are pinned down by Erek Taylor, who hooks Strangler’s leg as Kivell drops into position for the count.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

THR…

 

 

“And Strangler kicks out, but not nearly as emphatically as earlier! Taylor’s latest run has definitely taken a lot out of Strangler!”

 

“Strangler can take more punishment than just about anyone this side of the HVille Thugg! I wouldn’t think that some flippy little moonsault is enough to take him out!”

 

“Normally I wouldn’t think so, but that moonsault has definitely done some damage to Strangler’s already aching shoulder, which was originally injured when Taylor knocked Strangler into the ring post. Strangler really seems to be favoring that shoulder, which could be a tough blow for someone who relies on high-impact ground-based moves as much as Strangler does.”

 

Strangler reaches out for the ropes with his left arm, wincing as he extends it. He gets himself up to both knees, and starts to pull himself up, but shouts and pulls his left arm off the rope before bringing his right arm up to the shoulder, massaging the injured area. Strangler continues to try and loosen up his shoulder, but continues to wince as he moves the shoulder in a circle. All of a sudden, Erek Taylor comes ramming into Strangler from behind, his knee raised. The knee connects with the back of Strangler’s skull and his spine, sending Strangler catapaulting forward into the ropes. Strangler is knocked against the second rope, where he lies, trying to recuperate from the latest series of events. Taylor bounces onto his side before he bounces up to his feet, a look of happiness on his face.

 

“Taylor has completely taken control of this match! Strangler is reeling, has a hurt shoulder, and has had his power neutralized by the elusiveness of Erek Taylor! So far, things are looking towards Taylor retaining his ICTV Title!”

 

“Wow, someone feels confident. This match isn’t over, Stevens! Give Strangler a chance, and he’ll come up with a way to turn this match around. Even with one arm, he still has more power in his good shoulder than Taylor has in his entire family!”

 

Strangler slips off the ropes and to the canvas, where he starts to push himself up with his good arm. Taylor grabs Strangler from behind by the left arm, eliciting a low groan from Strangler, who struggles weakly to free himself. Taylor grabs Strangler’s forearm with both hands, and whips Strangler toward the corner, putting all of his weight into it. Strangler starts forward, then plants himself and do se do’s him back the way he came into the corner. Taylor crashes into the corner as Strangler walks forward and grabs Taylor by the waist. Strangler bends down slightly before hoisting Taylor up onto the top turnbuckle in a sitting position. The fans begin to boo as Strangler slowly climbs to the second turnbuckle, trying to keep his balance. He reaches up for Taylor and starts to hook Taylor into a suplex position before Taylor throws a quick jab at Strangler, startling Strangler. Taylor throws another jab, this one connecting with Strangler’s jaw. Strangler leans backwards slightly, but grabs ahold of the top rope with his hands, keeping his balance. Before Strangler can lean forward again, Taylor lashes out with his feet, pushing as hard as he can on Strangler’s chest. Strangler’s left arm goes flying off the ropes, strained from all the force, and Strangler winces from the pain rushing through his left shoulder. As the crowd cheers, Erek kicks out one more time, connecting with Strangler’s jaw. Strangler’s right hand releases its grip on the rope, and the Bostonian goes falling backwards, landing flat on his back.

 

“Strangler went for a superplex, but Taylor was ready and waiting, and made sure that Strangler wasn’t going ANYWHERE with that one.”

 

“Stevens, it looks like Taylor is going for a high-risk maneuver of his own…hopefully he’ll screw up worse than Strangler did…not that Strangler screwed up.”

 

“A question for our viewers at home: Did anyone truly understand that?”

 

Taylor slowly pushes himself up, still slightly off-kilter from the near-disaster against Strangler. Taylor reaches his feet, slowly balancing himself on the top ropes. He looks down at Strangler, who is on his side once again, trying to shake out the cobwebs. Erek turns around, turning away from Strangler, and raising his hand to the crowd, signaling for the Downfall. The fans respond with a wave of cheers, incredibly pumped to see Strangler finished off once and for all. Taylor readies himself, then bounces once….twice….three times on the ropes. Taylor’s feet hit the ropes for the third time, and he strains upward for the takeoff, but is suddenly jolted by a hard tremor that runs through the turnbuckle as Strangler lunges desperately into the ropes. Taylor sways, trying to keep his balance, but fails, and stumbles forward before falling all the way to the outside. Erek Taylor slams hard into a mat before collapsing into the crowd barrier, where he lies motionless.

 

“Strangler with a desperation reversal, countering the Downfall with a well-timed shot to the ropes! Strangler made a nice save there, making sure that Taylor wasn’t about to finish the match quite yet!”

 

“Stevens, this gives Strangler a badly-needed chance to recover, and still retain control of the match. Taylor made a BIG mistake when he turned his back on the Strangler!”

 

Strangler leans against the ropes, gasping for breath and continuing to rotate his shoulder, trying to coax another few minutes out of it. As Taylor starts to show signs of life, Strangler slides underneath the bottom rope and climbs down to the floor. Strangler pauses and reaches over where he ditched his trench coat before digging out the metal chain he brought to the ring with him. The crowd boos upon seeing the lethal weapon that Strangler has with him, but Strangler ignores the fans, heading toward the downed Taylor. Erek is pushing himself to his feet as Strangler arrives, metal chain wrapped around his fist. Strangler gets down on one knee, and sends his right fist, complete with metal chain, slamming into Taylor’s temple. Taylor drops backwards, but is jerked up by Strangler’s hand on his shirt. Taylor comes whipping back up into another strong punch by Strangler. Strangler continues to bring Taylor flying up into punch after punch, leaving a long mark along Taylor’s cheek from the metal chain. The crowd noise becomes deafening as the boos for Strangler increase in intensity. Finally, Strangler smashes the chain-covered fist directly into Taylor’s nose. Blood begins to gush from the nose as Strangler releases his vise-like grip on Taylor’s shirt, allowing Taylor to drop back to the mat. Strangler looks up at the fans in the first few rows and gives them a grin, earning himself a loud series of jeers, expletives, and a few half-filled soda cups.

 

“Taylor is being DESTROYED by Strangler! Stevens, looks like Taylor might not be retaining after all!”

 

“Strangler’s actions are appalling! They’re barbaric!”

 

“They’re tame in comparison to MacPhisto last week….you didn’t seem so appalled then!”

 

“That’s….different.”

 

Strangler slowly unwraps the chain from around his hand, taking his sweet time as Taylor tries to stem the bleeding from his nose. Finally, Strangler has the chain totally unwound, and reaches down, grabbing a limp Taylor by the back of his shirt. Strangler releases his grip on Taylor’s shirt, and replaces it by slinging the chain around the front of his head before drawing it tight across his throat. Taylor seizes up and starts clawing at air, flailing wildly to escape from the constraint of Strangler’s chain. Strangler pulls Taylor to his feet with the chain, sending the grounded High Flying Prince into a coughing fit. Strangler starts to march alongside the ring before hanging a right and heading toward the bottom of the ramp. Strangler begins to lead Taylor up the ramp, occasionally sending a sharp jab or elbow into Taylor’s kidney. Taylor struggles to free himself, but can’t shake himself free of the chain. Strangler instead tightens the chain, causing Taylor to begin gagging again, struggling to take in oxygen. About halfway up the ramp, Strangler veers off to the edge of the ramp, with Taylor next to him. Strangler adjusts the chain, wrapping it all the way around Taylor’s neck, cutting off more circulation to Taylor’s head. Strangler pauses, then leaps off the top of the ramp, landing on both feet. The chain goes taut, sending Taylor crashing down face-first onto the steel. Strangler’s sadistic grin returns to his face as he pulls down on Taylor’s chain, applying more and more pressure to Taylor’s neck, slowly pulling him off the ramp.

 

“Strangler is gonna kill Taylor! Someone has to stop this madness!”

 

“It’s a street fight, Stevens. Taylor knew what he was getting himself into when he agreed to go one on one with this massive animal. And now he’s paying the price!”

 

“If this keeps up, he’s gonna pay with his life!”

 

“Don’t worry. If anything REALLY bad happens, Kivell will stop him.”

 

“KIVELL? The guy that jobs to all the JL n00bs? C’mon! He couldn’t stop CUTTHROAT, let alone Strangler!”

 

“Oooh...good point.”

 

Strangler jerks away on Taylor’s neck, slowly but surely dragging the XF9er off the ramp. Taylor tries to resist, but the chain cuts into Taylor’s throat, giving him no other choice but to be dragged along. Finally, Strangler yanks hard on the chain, pulling Taylor off of the ramp onto his shoulders. He collapses onto the concrete with a dull THUD! before lying there, stone-still. Strangler’s face erupts in a look of triumph as he walks over to Erek, the slack chain dragging along behind him, and drops down into a cover. Kivell, with a look of fear for Taylor’s safety, drops to the floor, and begins to slap the floor.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

“NO! TAYLOR KICKED OUT! He’s still got something left, folks!”

 

“Don’t worry…he won’t last long. Strangler still has the great equalizer: the chain.”

 

Strangler shoots off the ground, staring directly at Kivell. Matty backs up, looking to appease Strangler, whose face is turning red with anger. Strangler finally breaks the staredown with Kivell, who breathes a sigh of relief, and goes back down to Taylor. He tugs up on the chain, pulling Taylor to his feet. Taylor is jerked up haphazardly, his head flailing around, before being led alongside the ramp by Strangler. As they reach the junction of the ramp and the staging area, Strangler walks over to the metal grating supporting the stage. Strangler yanks on the chain, pulling Taylor forward to Strangler. Strangler grabs the back of Taylor’s head, and mashes it into the metal grating. A small drop of blood drops from Taylor’s already-injured nose as Strangler presses the face harder and harder into the grating. Strangler keeps Taylor’s face pressed hard against the metal grating, and begins to walk alongside the staging area. Taylor’s face is dragged along the metal slats, leaving a progressively larger trail of blood as they continue on. Finally, they reach the end of the stage, and Strangler tosses Taylor to the floor, where blood oozes out of his nose and a few small abrasions from the latest attack on his face. Strangler looks down at Taylor, who is completely stunned from the onslaught by Strangler, and sends a sharp kick into the ribs of Taylor, drawing a agonizing cry from Erek. Strangler’s face lights up at the sound before tugging Taylor back to his feet via the chain once again.

 

“Strangler is a sick, twisted man! He’s truly taking pleasure in watching Taylor suffer!”

 

“Taylor has deserved everything that he’s gotten here tonight! He screwed Strangler out of a WORLD TITLE SHOT! Strangler could kill the guy, and no jury in the world would convict him!”

 

“Well, I wou…”

 

“Unless it was full of pathetic little wussies like you, of course.”

 

Strangler heads along through the large, empty concrete area separating the crowds from the set. Strangler notices a curtain that opens to the backstage area, and leads Taylor through it, still tugging the High Flying Prince along by the chain. Taylor squirms, actually making a skilled attempt at freeing himself from his predicament. Strangler pauses and sends a hard uppercut into Taylor’s jaw, which sends Taylor’s head rolling back, sedated by Dr. Strangler’s right fist. Satisfied, Strangler leads Taylor down a narrow hallway lined with tables filled with millions of different objects. Finally, Strangler emerges in a large room filled with food and tables.

 

“Hey, Stevens, they’re in the catering room! Stay away from the chicken wings! Those are MY chicken wings, dammit!”

 

“I’ve never seen a man eat so many chicken wings…”

 

Strangler leads Taylor over to a table where bowls after bowls of chips and other snacks are. Strangler slackens Taylor’s chain a little bit, and turns to grab a bowl of soup lying on the next table. Strangler leans forward, stretching, and grabs the soup, wrapping his right hand around the edge of the bowl. Suddenly, Strangler shoots into the air as Taylor shoots forward and delivers an INCREDIBLY hard shot to Strangler’s groin. Strangler goes flying forward, splashing the soup up into his own face. Strangler drops the chain and starts clawing at his face, trying to clear the soup out of his eyes. Taylor claws at the link chain around his throat, tearing it away from his skin and drawing in deep, full breaths. A roar can be heard coming from the arena, which seems to energize Taylor even further. As Strangler grabs ahold of a pot holder and begins to clean the soup from his eyes, Taylor grabs one of the metal folding chairs at the tables. Taylor folds it up, doing it as quickly as he can in his weakened state while Strangler flicks split pea soup off his chin. He turns back to Taylor with most of the green liquid gone from his face, but walks straight into Taylor’s chairshot directly to Strangler’s skull. Strangler’s eyes roll up in his head as he leans backwards, only to be met with another chairshot. Strangler collapses backwards, rolling over the table to the other side where he lands on some pots and pans. As the racket subsides, Strangler lies amongst the contents of a box of catering equipment, while Taylor leans against the table, still trying to catch his breath after being choked for the better part of three minutes.

 

“Taylor has burst back into the match in a big way, laying out Strangler with a wicked chairshot to the skull!”

 

“Taylor’s still quite weak, Stevens. I don’t think it’d be wise for him to try going after Strangler right now! He’s just asking for the match to swing right back the way it was a minute ago!”

 

Taylor drops the metal folding chair, which falls to the ground with a metallic rattle. As Strangler starts to pick himself up, Taylor comes sprinting forward before vaulting onto the table and leaping off toward Strangler. Strangler glances up and sees Taylor inches from his face, giving him just enough time to brace himself before Taylor nails Strangler with a dropkick square in the chest, sending Strangler smashing against the wall. Strangler’s head cracks against the concrete wall, sending Strangler slumping against the wall. Taylor rolls onto his side, then crawls over to Strangler. Erek pulls Strangler away from the wall flat onto his back before hooking the leg and collapsing against Strangler’s chest, putting all his weight onto Strangler in a desperate attempt to keep him down.

 

“Taylor might actually have this, BR! Strangler is completely out of this!”

 

“C’mon, Strangler! You can do it!”

 

 

 

ONE!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

“NO! Strangler came powering out, getting the shoulder up just in the nick of time!”

 

“This match continues on, with Taylor trying desperately to hold on before the power of Strangler finally overwhelms him!”

 

Taylor rolls over, a look of disappointment apparent on his face. He slowly pushes himself up as Strangler grunts and begins to push himself up, still making sure to keep weight off his left shoulder. Taylor reaches down underneath Strangler’s back and grabs a large frying pan, which sends a faint cheer echoing down the hallway. As Strangler plants his left arm and tries to gain a little leverage from the injured appendage, Taylor swings down and connects with a savage shot to Strangler’s shoulder. Strangler cries out in pain and drops to the floor with his support given out. Strangler rolls around, trying to protect his arm from any further attacks while Taylor readies the pan once again. Strangler covers his shoulder, but Taylor swings the pan directly at Strangler’s skull. The pan lands directly between Strangler’s eyes, which cross briefly before closing as Strangler slumps to the ground. Taylor tosses the pan across the room where it crashes against the wall. Taylor drops to the floor and rolls over onto Strangler before hooking the leg and going for the cover.

 

 

 

ONE!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!

 

 

“NO! Strangler somehow got his shoulder up at the VERY last second, and the match continues on, much to the dismay of Erek Taylor, who thought he had finished this one!”

 

Taylor picks up Strangler by the greasy dark hair that trails behind Strangler’s head, which is now opened up from the last frying pan shot. The blood runs down the bridge of Strangler’s nose before dropping onto the floor as Taylor yanks Strangler firmly to his feet. Taylor looks at Strangler’s bloody, beaten face before stepping forward and sending a sharp kick into Strangler’s stomach. Strangler doubles over, and Taylor grabs Strangler’s head into a facelock, drawing a massive cheer from the fans. Strangler starts to fight back, sending a punch into Erek’s stomach. The hold on Strangler’s head weakens, but Taylor starts to twist, keeping the hold on. Strangler this time puts all he has into the punch. Taylor drops his grip on Strangler’s head and stumbles backwards before charging forward again. He lunges for Strangler, but instead feels Strangler's hand wrap around his throat. Before he can escape, Strangler lifts Taylor into the air before sending him crashing through the table directly in front of them. Taylor lies in the middle of the broken table as Strangler holds his left shoulder.

 

“Strangler just gave Taylor the Plunge through a table, but he seems to have landed awkwardly on his left shoulder! He’s not making the pin!”

 

“This match is over! Taylor can’t survive that! Strangler was too alert, he saw the Fame and Fury coming, and reversed it into a massive chokeslam! Count Taylor out now!”

 

Strangler finally comes to his senses, and crawls over to Taylor, who is still lying in the exact position that he had been before, knocked completely senseless by the chokeslam. Strangler finally crawls over, and droops his right arm across Erek’s chest before collapsing across the pieces of broken wood on the ground. Kivell drops into the position and begins the count.

 

 

 

 

 

ONE!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!!!!

 

 

“NO!!! By some miracle, Erek Taylor just kicked out! How’d he do it, Riley?”

 

“What a crock! The ref counted slow! Screwjob! Act of God! I don’t know what the hell just happened, but whatever it was, Strangler just got SCREWED!”

 

Strangler looks up at the referee, a look of desperation and rage mixing together on his face. Kivell raises two fingers into the air to reiterate his point, leaving Strangler to look at Taylor, who is on his side, trying to claw his way to his knees. Strangler looks around, in complete shock that the match is still going on. Strangler finally gets to his feet as Taylor climbs up onto his knees, trying to crawl back into the match. Strangler grabs ahold of Taylor by the hair, and drags him along. Taylor stumbles as he tries to regain his balance while Strangler tosses Strangler through the swinging doors into the loading area, where tons of anvil cases, pieces of the set, and various other junk is lying around. Strangler watches at Taylor rolls up against one of the giant blue anvil cases before starting the long crawl back to his feet again.

 

“What a match this has turned out to be! Strangler and Taylor have been putting on an incredible match, and both men have come incredibly close to winning this match!”

 

“Strangler came the closest.”

 

“Whatever.”

 

Strangler grabs Taylor from his spot on the ground, and lifts him to his feet. Taylor struggles as Strangler grasps Taylor’s throat again, pointing up into the air before pointing down at the concrete ground. Taylor waves his arms and legs, trying to free himself, but Strangler overwhelms him, and lifts the still-struggling Taylor into the air. Taylor continue to flail about, and swings his legs out as far as he can. As Strangler lifts Taylor as high as he can, Taylor’s right foot connects with Strangler’s groin, sending a look of pure pain running through Strangler’s face. Strangler weakens his grip on Taylor’s throat, letting Taylor drop to the mat. Taylor looks around, then hops onto the anvil case behind him. As Strangler, slightly hunched over, turns toward Taylor, a look of savageness on his face, Taylor grabs ahold of Strangler’s head, then leaps off the anvil case before doing a 180 in midair and spiking Strangler’s head into the concrete with a tornado DDT.

 

“TORNADO DDT! TORNADO DDT ONTO THE CONCRETE FLOOR! Taylor may have done it! This match might be OVER!”

 

The thunderous applause snakes its way through the various tunnels and rumbles into the giant loading dock, where a faint chant of “EREK! EREK! EREK!” echoes through the cavernous spaces before disappearing into the air. Taylor starts to crawl toward Strangler, who is bleeding more heavily from the wound on his forehead, getting closer and closer as the echoing chant grows louder and louder. Taylor finally sprawls out and drapes his forearm across Strangler’s chest, then turns to look at Matty Kivell, who starts the count, with which the crowd eagerly chants along.

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONE!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

“NO! Strangler got the shoulder up!”

 

“What a monster, an animal! He just got DDT’ed onto CONCRETE and kicked out! Strangler is a beast! He cannot and will not be stopped by Erek Taylor here tonight!”

 

Taylor slams his fist against the floor as the crowd’s disappointment can be heard all throughout the building. Strangler starts to roll around as Taylor pushes up, looking for his next move. Taylor spies a stack of four anvil cases that tower about 10 feet above the ground. As Strangler starts to crawl up to his feet, Taylor walks slowly, with a slight limp to his right leg, over to the back, where he starts to scale the anvil cases. Strangler finally staggers to his feet just as Taylor appears on the top of the cases, peering down on Strangler from high above. Strangler looks around, trying to find his opponent, before a whistle from behind him sends Strangler twirling around. As he does, he notices Taylor leaping off the stack of anvil cases, flying toward him through the air. Taylor extends horizontally, soaring toward Strangler, looking for the cross body….before Strangler catches him.

 

“Strangler caught Taylor on that leap! How the hell did he do that? Taylor had a ton of momentum!”

 

“Strangler still has something left in the tank! His power is absolutely sensational!”

 

Erek Taylor writhes, trying to escape Strangler’s grasp. Strangler pauses a moment before grunting and lifting Taylor completely above his head with a body press. Taylor tries to escape, but Strangler suddenly drops him onto his shoulders as Strangler begins to fall to the concrete floor. Taylor looks down, and sees the approaching concrete floor racing toward them, with his head being the first part to contact the ground. Taylor closes his eyes as Strangler spikes Taylor onto the ground with the elevated death valley driver, which leaves Taylor lying on the ground, and completely silences the crowd.

 

“Jesus Christ! Whatever that was, it might have killed Erek Taylor!”

 

“Stevens, that’s a regular Boston massacre right there! Taylor is completely gone!”

 

Strangler crawls the foot between himself and Taylor, who is lying completely motionless on the concrete, and presses his body over Taylor’s chest. As Strangler applies the lateral press, Kivell drops to the ground and begins the count.

 

 

 

ONE!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

DING DING DING!

 

 

“Your winner, and NEW SWF ICTV CHAMPION, the BOSTON….STRRRRRRANGLER!”

 

 

“Dear lord….Strangler might have killed Erek Taylor! That was an absolutely brutal display!”

 

“Strangler did what he needed to do to win that ICTV belt, Stevens! Strangler went the extra mile and earned that belt! And that move that he just pulled off was one of the most impressive sights I’ve ever seen in my life!”

 

“Well, coming up next, we have our ma…wait a minute! Strangler is continuing to assault Erek Taylor!”

 

As the picture cuts back to the loading dock, a shot of Strangler, steel chair in hand, is slamming the weapon into Taylor’s side and back. The High Flying Prince, who appears to be unconscious, offers no resistance as Strangler starts smashing the chair into any unprotected part of Taylor’s body. “Who’s the loser now, Taylor? You thought you could take away my life! My friends! Well you couldn’t! You can’t do that to me! They’re mine, and so is this title! MINE! MINE!” screams Strangler as he sends one final stiff shot into Taylor’s head before dropping the chair to the ground and walking away.

 

“Well, thank god that’s all over and done with! Strangler has gone far beyond any limits that civilized humans, or even apes, recogn…wait, NOW what is he doing?”

 

Strangler is shown reentering the picture while pushing an anvil case in front of him, with the top open and a chair inside. Strangler reaches down and grabs Taylor, who has blood rushing out of his nose now, and jerks him to his feet. Taylor slides forward, completely under Strangler’s control, before Strangler tosses Taylor into the anvil case. Taylor collapses over himself in the case as Strangler grabs the chair out from inside the case, slams the lid shut and locks the two switches on the front. Strangler then turns the anvil case around, and starts to push it back from where he came, and into the hallways.

 

“What the hell is Strangler doing! He has Erek Taylor locked in an anvil case, Taylor is unconscious, and he’s taking him somewhere!”

 

“Stevens, I can’t explain what Strangler’s thinking, but it appears that he’s heading for the ring!”

 

Strangler wheels the case through the hallways before entering the production area directly beside the stage. Strangler snatches a microphone from the table alongside the ramp, where surprised staff members do nothing but watch as Strangler walks along, chair and microphone resting on top of the anvil case. Strangler pushes the case up the ramp leading to the stage, grunting as he pushes the heavy case up to the top. Finally, he reaches the top, and steps out through the curtain to a wall of boos from the crowd. Strangler looks around, and taps the case quickly before bursting into a huge, deranged smile, which only increases the boos. Strangler finally looks around and raises the microphone to his lips.

 

“Well lookie here! Looks like the “man of the fans” didn’t get it done, did he? He tried, but you weren’t enough! Do you know why? Because you people aren’t worth fighting for! I fought for my stable, and I won! I fought about people who I care about, and people who care about me, and I won! Taylor fought for a bunch of stupid pathetic losers, and he lost! Taylor, you said that the fans gave you the power to do anything! Well, you better hope they give you the ability to fly, because otherwise, you’re in a LOT of trouble!”

 

With that, Strangler throws down the microphone, producing a short burst of static. Through the static, Grand Slam can be heard saying “What does he mean by that? Oh my god…” as Strangler begins to wheel the anvil case closer and closer to the edge of the stage. Suddenly, a wave of SWF personnel, referees, and security come pouring out the entrance, heading straight for Strangler.

 

“Finally! They have to stop him!”

 

“I don’t think Strangler wants to be stopped, Stevens! He and his steel chair seem to feel quite strongly about that!”

 

Strangler grabs the steel chair off the top of the anvil case and cocks it while quickly shifting his gaze from person to person. Strangler slowly backs away from the personnel and towards the anvil case, where the sounds of Erek Taylor slamming away at the top of the case, trying to free himself, can be heard. Strangler takes a swing at the personnel with his chair, giving him an extra buffer between the employees and him. Before they can regroup, Strangler turns, and with one swift motion gives Taylor’s case a giant push. The case goes rolling along the stage before reaching the edge, where it goes plummeting over the side. The arena goes deadly silent as the case crashes against the floor, sending an echoing THUNK! throughout the rest of the arena. Strangler looks down at the anvil case, which is now surrounded by SWF employees sprinting down to Taylor. As they begin to open the case, Strangler drops the chair on the top of the stage, and walks to the back as the arena remains in complete silence, still in shock at the heinous deeds.

 

“Folks, the initial word we’re getting is that Erek Taylor has no major injuries, although he’s going to be rushed to a local hospital for observation.”

 

“Strangler was willing to do what it took to win…but he might have gone too far this time?”

 

“MIGHT have? He could have killed Taylor! Fortunately he didn’t, but Strangler is a menace to this company! While Erek Taylor is tended to and the extra ring are assembled for the Wargames matchup, watch this clip package detailing the rise of the feud between Chris Wilson’s Magnificent Seven, Edwin MacPhisto’s Midnight Carnival, and Spider Nekura’s Clan.”

 

As the clip package begins to roll, a shot of Erek Taylor being loaded onto a stretcher is the last image shown from the Key Arena.

[Guest Smeghead]

Maybe not the winning match, Edwin, but it still looked good. Props to team Carnie for just being able to write 20000 words. It may not be 35000, but it's still a shitload of words.

[Guest redbaron51]

after about 30 minutes of reading Edwin's match I am totaly blown away on how much talent there is in that group...

 

simply the best