SWF Smarkdown (August 19/2002)

August 20, 2002

“Warning: This show is cool. Deal with it.”

The warning goes away as the screen lights up and the sold out Kemper Arena floods over it. Pyros start to shoot all over the place, covering the entire arena.

BOOM

After ten seconds of pleasure, that cost thousands upon thousands of dollars, all that is left is smoke, and very excited fans.

Stevens: “It is time for S-W-F Smarkdown! What a card we have for you tonight, including what looks to be a top notch Main Event!”

Riley: “The forces of stupidity join up to fight the forces of evil!”

A graphic of LDP is shown, ready to strike, combined with Edwin MacPhisto striking forward with a palm. The graphic freezes as they stand side by side. Their opponents replace them, Perfect Bo, knuckles up and bloody, alongside Chris Wilson, who is doing his Muhammad Ali shadow boxing.

Stevens: “This match has an interesting stipulation. There is two enforcers in this match, Jay Dawg and Silent… How will they behave?”

A clip of Jay Dawg doing his roundhouse kick, and Silent swinging his cane both come up. They are frozen in their respective fighting stances. The graphic of them shrinks down, as the six men involved in the Main Event can now be seen.

Stevens: “This match will be one of the best in Smarkdown! You can bet the outcome of this will have a massive impact on the Pay Per View!”

The graphic hyping the Main Event cuts away, and the arena lights go out.

“THIS

IS

MAH

HOUSE!!!”

Jay Dawg’s lung capacity is tested over the speakers, igniting the start of Rammstein’s Du Haste to the distaste of the Missouri fans. Wave after wave of insults start to flood the entrance ramp, the majority of them involve cursing not supposed to be said on TV. JD steps through the curtains, hardcore title fastened around his waist. He walks toward the ring, a deep smile over his face.

Stevens: “Didn’t he open the show last week!”

Riley: “Yeah! Ain’t it the greatest!”

Stevens: “Not really. Especially after his disgusting actions toward Sarah and LDP at the end of Storm!”

Riley: “The bitch had it coming! Pulling out that handicap bullshit!”

JD rolls into the ring, unfastens his title and places it over his shoulder. He walks to the side of the ramp and calls for the microphone. The look on his face of willing to fire anyone who doesn’t get it to him within seconds. A smart ringcrew obliges to the threat, passing him the Mic and JD gives him a polite nod.

Jamie: “Greetings Minnesota!”

The Missouri fans boo at Jay Dawg’s lack of geographic knowledge, as the man in the ring waves around with a sincere smile. He starts to bounce himself off the ropes, doing a little strut slightly resembling that of Simon Flare.

Jamie: “I feel great today! Do you know why I feel great!?”

A hefty “NO!!” can be heard, causing JD to pause, laughing slightly.

Jamie: “I’ll tell you why. I have dealt with the Shit Force 9 once and for all! I mean, we have Silent ready to make Annie his bitch at the PPV. She may get her hardcore title shot… but Silent… as a token of my good will… I shall grant you a title shot upon defeating her! Blood spilt is a bonus my friend! Ah what else did we do…? Oh right…”

JD looks into the camera, his eyelids raise and his face turns into a smile.

Jamie: “Sarah Leavenworth. You dirty bitch. I guess that will teach you to fuck with the Creative Control!”

Stevens: “Yeah… Jay Dawg is so tough hitting a women from behind with a chair!”

Riley: “She would hit everyone with her whip including you, so why the fuck are you complaining?”

Stevens: “Bah!”

Jamie: “Believe it or not though, Sarah… My attack on you last Storm, was not for you hacking the Storm Card. That was just the incentive. My true reasons were for the HVille Thugg, as I’m sure you all know! Sarah… Thugg is sweet on you, it’s common knowledge. Believe me when I say this though… he better say yes tonight… or else someone is going to get hurt!”

Riley: “Ha ha ha! How many people will Thugg let get hurt!”

Jamie: “The blood is on your hands Thugg. A chairshot was only the start to Sarah… I will mess her up good next time! Just give me a reason you sack of shit!”

The crowd’s voices rise another level, all negative responses for the hardcore champ. He grins ear to ear, showing his teeth to the crowd.

Jamie: “I could hurt another XF9’er tonight. Wouldn’t that be fun!? Nah… I think I’ve taken them all out…some even twice!”

Riley: “*COUGH*KETCHUM/ANNIE*COUGH* Heh heh heh!”

Stevens: “This man has grown more egotistical by the minute!”

Jamie: “The X-Force-9 will be annihilated at the PPV! I have other business to attend to!”

Suddenly the lights in the arena change to a bright shade of green. A series of green and white pyrotechnic explosions erupt from the stage, and "Figure 8" by Trust Company hits the speaker system.

Riley: “What the hell!? Didn’t they ever learn a lesson!?”

The fans explode into cheers as the theme music for the X-Force-9 kicks into full gear.

“take you down

leave you fallen, faceless, hurt

and leave you down

fall, break you now

leave you fallen, faceless, hurt

and take you down

wanna take you down!”

Onto the stage steps Long Dogger Pete! He has a mic in hand.

“I am all you need to know

I am everywhere you go…-”

“Cut the music!” bellows the doggah. The man’s face is burning, looking straight into the ring. Staring straight at the hardcore champ. If looks could kill, LDP would be arrested for murder (rimshot). He pulls the mic back up, as thousands of people all shout out for the Long Dogger.

LDP: “Jay Dawg! There is a thin thread holding me back from beating the hell out of you right now! What you did to Sarah…-”

Jamie: “What I did to Sarah was send a message! Just because she has a pair of tits doesn’t make her any less vulnerable to my fucking wrath! You messed with the fire, she messed with the fire, and you both got fucking burned!”

LDP: “You interupt me again son, and I will hurt you. What you did to Sarah was disgusting! How you have treated the X-Force-9 as of late is disgusting and disrespectful! There is one member you have not beaten Jay Dawg. And that’s me. Now you are lucky that I am not doing that tonight!”

Jamie: “No Long Dogger Pete! You are lucky that I am not doing that tonight! I promised Bo that I would leave you unharmed! If you come down here, I will have to break that promise!”

LDP: “I’m warning you, JD.”

Jamie: “No! I’m warning you! You act like tough shit because you’re a veteran!? I’ve been in this business just as long as you! I’ve been wrestling countless matches for lack of appreciation! It is my time!”

LDP: “Oh it’s your time, Jay Dawg? Well if it’s your time… you will be pleased to hear this! I got a voicemail from the HVille Thugg today… and maybe just maybe this oughtta shut you up! I’ll let you listen so you know!”

LDP points to some speakers, and suddenly, the voice of an angry black man kicks up.

“Yo Doggah! It's me...HVT. Check it yo, I tried to be there in KC tonight yo, but you know how it is wit rehab and all that shit. But yo, peep it...give this message to dat bitch, Jamie. He thinks he can walk around that mutha fucka talkin' shit about me and beatin' up on innocent people like he's some fuckin' badass. He thinks cause he was some fuckin' pawn in a plot to take me out, that makes him some kinda big man. You think cause Bo laid me up wit a broken neck...and yes bitch, it was Bo...you ain't have shit to do with it other than hold me you pussy ass bitch...that you can just say and do whatever the fuck you want? You think you call me out and talk shit about HVT?? You wanna run around beatin' up on women and shit you pussy ass nigga? And now you wanna step in the fuckin' ring wit me??Bitch! Don't you know I will fuckin' kill you?!? You don't want none of me...you ain't tryin' to see the HVille Thugg. If I was there right now, I'd fuckin' stomp your bitch ass just for breathin' in the ring I fuckin' made. But yo...I'm not...but you know what? I'm callin' yo mutha fuckin' bluff bitch...you want Da Thugg?? Well you got him bitch! You wanna talk outta the side of yo mouth and call me out...well I'm out bitch! You got me! This Sunday...it's you and me fucker...hardcore rules fo' dat hardcore title you fagot! I want you to remember this though...you asked fo this shit. You brought this on yo mutha fuckin' self. Oh, and you can tell that bitch Bo that if he brings his monkey ass to the ring, I'm puttin' two to his ass too...that goes fo' Sacred, that fagot Leggin or Berrin or whateva the fuck he calls himself. Come down to save JD, and you'll pay wit yo mutha fuckin' life...plain and simple. So Jamie...you want it...you got it! Come this Sunday...I...WILL...WRECK YO SHIT!!”

::BEEP::

Silence follows for a second, as LDP looks over to JD, an angered stare in the eyes of the leader of the XF9. Impulsively… the crowd kicks up into a massive chant… exploding at the thought of Jay Dawg and Thugg on the Pay Per View. The sound is deafening, as everyone in the arena is on there feet.

Stevens: “Listen to this ovation for the HVille Thugg!”

The thunderous and enthusiastic response to the man who’s voice was only heard. In the center of the ring, stands Jay Dawg, looking forward at LDP, smiling in a sickening grin.

Riley: “These fans are loving it, and look, so is Jay Dawg!”

He pulls the mic to his face once more, smiling as he stares over at the leader of his opposing stable.

Jamie: “Wah ha ha ha weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Thugg talks about like he’s going to wreck my shit! Well I say FUCK THAT!!! Thugg… you chicken shit coward. You talk about how you going to take us all on! No! That’s what you want! Stubby, King, Perfect Bo, Lerrin Breggan, Sacred… none of them will be there! The question is Thugg… DO YOU HAVE THE BALLS TO FACE ME!!? ONE ON ONE!!! MAN TO MAN!!! HARDCORE RULES WHERE ANYTHING GOES!!!”

LDP: “Hey Jay Dawg! Shut up!”

The audience erupts in approval at LDP’s interuption.

LDP: “He already said yes! Now stop talking shit and start preparing! Cause believe me son, this Sunday… YOUR ASS IS GOING TO NEED TO BE PREPARED… BECAUSE THE KICKING WILL FUCKING HURT!!!”

Stevens: “Amen to that!”

LDP exits the stage as JD looks on furiously.

Stevens: “Another hot start to Smarkdown! This show looks to be great!”

JD continues staring a hole toward the stage, as the camera cuts to a commercial.

August 20, 2002

A side door deep in the bowels of the Kemper Arena, and Chris Wilson enters with a duffel bag slung over his left shoulder. The leader of the Magnificent Seven looks even more focused than usual tonight…with a match against Longdogger Pete and that bastard MacPhisto eminent, there’s a lot to be done. He needs to see Mercury and Frost about-

A flame flickers suddenly out of a shadow down the hall, illuminating the face of the Slaughterer as he casually lights a cigarette. Wilson fluidly drops his bag and whips his fist backwards, hoping to catch whichever Clannite is behind him off guard before he can close the distance…

…And connects with empty air.

“Really, Wilson, you’re a little bit jumpy tonight,” chuckles the Silent One as he moves out of the shadows. His trenchcoat trails behind him as he saunters down the hall, tapping his cane against the concrete floor thoughtfully. “Really. If I had decided I was going to beat the shit out of you the moment you walked through that door, I’d do it myself. Again.” Silent drops his half-smoked cigarette to the ground and grinds it out with his boot, a devilish smile on his face as Wilson’s features momentarily contort with anger.

“Very cute, rookie,” spits the mastermind. “If you manage so much as a cheap shot when I turn my back on you to pick up my bag, the whole of the Magnificent Seven will beat you within an inch of your life…again.”

No sooner are the words out of his mouth than the Silent One is almost nose-to-nose with Chris Wilson, rage burning in his eyes as the two men confront each other in the bowels of the Kemper Arena, neither one willing to back down…

...

…

And Silent smiles.

“Fair enough, Wilson,” he concedes, sitting down on a nearby crate and resting his head back against the wall. “I have quite a fun little match lined up for tonight, and I don’t need to fuck around with the Magnificent Seven right now. I came down here…to give you a peace offering of sorts.”

Wilson snorts derisively, less than convinced of the Slaughterer’s sincerity. “Please. What the hell could you possibly have for me?”

Silent smiles even wider. “Edwin MacPhisto.”

In a fraction of a second, Wilson’s entire demeanor changes. “Well, now. That’s interesting. Our mutual friend seems a little wary of you, I must admit, but I sincerely doubt you can help me with him right now. We’ve got ourselves a fun little match of our own at Apocalypse, no-holds-barred and whatnot, but it’s also no interference. I appreciate the offer, of course, but I don’t see what you can do.”

”I don’t mean Apocalypse, Wilson,” spits the Clansman. “You’ve been trying for months to break Edwin, to bend his will and twist his mind. You’ve made him crack, you’ve changed his mind more than once…but you cannot break that man. Don’t look so offended, Chris. You’ve gotten much farther than I’d expect, but you’ve got farther still to go.”

Silent withdraws a VHS tape from his coat, with the letters “APW” scrawled on the front of it with a red marker. He hands the tape to Wilson, who greedily snatches it, his eyes bright as spotlights as he looks the tape over.

“Very nice. What is it, exactly?”

”It’s six years old, and it’s your ticket to the mind of the Carnival’s crown prince.” Silent lights another cigarette and takes a deep drag, blowing three perfect “Os” of smoke into the air before continuing. “You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into at Apocalypse, going against Edwin with no rules, no boundaries. I can show you. You don’t understand why he runs from me, why he’s been avoiding you, what bothers him so much about that ruthless streak he has. I can tell you.”

”In short, you want Edwin MacPhisto a broken man.”

Silent smiles.

“I am the only person here who knows how to break him.”

The Silent One extends his scarred and tattooed hand to the leader of the Magnificent Seven, who takes Silent’s hand in his own in a gesture of unholy partnership. Silent bends over and scoops up Wilson’s back, handing it to the mastermind as the two proceed down the hall of the Kemper Arena, coming closer to the Carnival, one step at a time…

“You know, Silent…”

”Please, call me Nathan.”

”Right, Nathan…this could be the start of a beautiful friendship.”

August 20, 2002

#1 Contendership to the SWF Tag Team Titles

“Deathwish” Danny Williams/Xero vs. Sacred/Lerrin Breggan

- Danny and Xero really impressed the SWF stockholders in their first tag match together, and the board members feel that they have a true, honest-to-goodness tag team on their hands here. The board members want to exploit this new found talent, since tag teams don't pop up often in the SWF. So, the board demanded that Stubby give Danny and Xero a shot at the tag titles at Apolcalypse, but, being the hater he is, Stubby refused. After some back and forth, Stubby agreed to let them WIN a shot at Chilly Chilly Bang Bang and the SWF Tag Team Titles. What Stubby failed to mention was that they'd have to overcome this Creative Control buisers in the form of the veteran Sacred and the rookie monster Lerrin Breggan. Who will go on to face CCBB at Apolcalypse?? Find out this Monday!!

Hardcore Match

Annie Eclectic vs. Ced Ondornez

- On Storm, Annie and Tod deKindes lost a handicapped match against the SWF Hardcore Champion, Jay Dawg, by disqualification when Annie lost her cool and took it to JD with her singapore cane. Despite losing the match, she seemingly got the best of the newly crowned Hardcore god there, but no she may have The Clan breathing down her neck. Rumors ciruclating around the Internet indicate that this may be Ced's last match for a while, as he's supposedly be pulled form TV to tend to some personal matters. Should those rumors be true, Ced has a chance to go out with a bang against Annie, but has Annie calmed down since Storm, or will she just take her frustrations on Ced's hide? Will The Clan take care of Annie as JD requested, and if so, will they have an impact in this match? Or will they fail like when they tried to protect Stubby's girlfriend from The Enlightenment? Only time will tell.

Singles Match

“TNT” Taylor Nicholas Thompson vs. Chris Raynor

- Chris Raynor saw something very, very distrubing on Storm and stormed out of the arena, leaving his Carnie bretheren dazed and confused. One can only speculate that this the tape had something to do with Edwin and/or Silent. Has Chris gathered himself enough to take out the Magnificent Seven's Taylor Nicholas Thompson, a former US champion? Or will his mind be elsewhere, allowing the explosive one to pick up the win??

#1 Contendership to the US Title

Ash Ketchum vs. Tod deKindes

- Tom Flesher has held the US title for some time now, but now he'll have to defend it on Apocalypse next Sunday. Ash Ketchum was the victim of some vicious shots with bolt cutters on Storm during his match with Frost, a match that he won via disqualification. However, the stock holders have stepped in once again, and demanding that the Poke Freak get a shot at the US title due to the rapidly growing fanfare surrounding the phenomenom known as Pokemania. Stubby is getting a little pissed off at the fucking board, and will make Ash earn his shot by defeating another fan favorite and fellow X Force 9 member, Tod deKindes. Both these competitors will be kicking ass as of late, but how will facing each other effect the X Force 9 locker room? Will they be able to remain friends after one of them goes on to the PPV to face Tom Flesher for the US title and the other one goes home crying with no title shot? Or is it that Stubby and Creative Control has their own plan to execute with 2 X Force 9 members in the ring at once. Should be interesting...

Steel Cage Match

Silent vs. Z

- 3 weeks ago, Silent beat Z within an inch of his life after the foolish Carnie challenged the Slaughterer to a hardcore match. With complete disregard for standard logic and all practical thinking, Z has agreed to step inside an unforgiving steel cage with the most controversial Clan member, and most think that in doing so, Z has sealed his fate to end up in a body bag before next Sunday's PPV. On Storm, Silent began to randomly beat on The Boston Strangler, his opponent for the night, instead of stepping inside of the squared circle with the M7 monster. After seeing that not even Thoth can control the rookie, why in the fuck would Z want to get into a steel cage with him? Stupidty comes to mind...but some might call it foolish bravery. Either way, this should be a bloodbath not to be missed.

- Match Rules: DQ and countout rules are not in effect, but pinfalls, submissions, and KOs are NOT in effect. The winner of the match is the first to escape the cage by climbing out through the open top. Once inside, the door will be shut and locked.

MAIN EVENT

Tag Team Match

Longdogger Pete/Edwin MacPhisto vs. Perfect Bo/Chris Wilson

Special Ring Enforcers: Jay Dawg & Silent {no matches from you boys}

- At Apocalypse, Chris Wilson is set to take on Edwin MacPhisto for the SWF World Heavyweight Championship for an unprecedented thrid time, despite falling short twice previously. Also at next Sunday's PPV, Longdogger Pete is set to take on the returning Perfect Bo after Bo fooled the X Force 9 leader into thinking the Perfect One would join his group. On Storm, Bo managed to get the jump on LDP in the parking lot, beating the shit out of him with a crowbar, while Jay Dawg took out his business manager, Sarah Leavenworth. What will be the fallout from Creative Control's heinous actions at the end of Storm, and what will happen if Wilson and Edwin get in the ring together with their big title match on the horizon? And with Jay Dawg and Silent at ringside, how does that factor into the match? Will Silent be able to keep his hands off Edwin? Will Silent's presence alone enough to distract Edwin from the task at hand? Will Jay Dawg take it hardcore of Longdogger Pete after the two of them have been jarring back and forth for some time? BAH GAWD....WHAT WILL HAPPEN NEXT!! Find out on SWF SMARKDOWN!!!

August 20, 2002

Grand Slam: Hello all, and welcome to SMARKDOWN! Up first is the number one contenders match for the SWF Tag Team belts, which will be on the line at Apocolypse, as the team of Chilli Chilli Bang Bang will face the creative control team of Sacred and Lerrin Breggan or "Deathwish" Danny Williams and his partner Xero.

Riley: You usually don't see people want to have tag team matches, or be in tag teams, but these two in Danny and Xero want those belts.

Grand Slam: Many people wanted to see Danny and Xero too face Chilli Chilli Bang Bang at Apocolypse this Sunday, but knowing Stubby, he has to have his buddies to prove that Danny and Xero are the real deal, or just curtain jerkers, and just add the tag team titles to the Creative Control's mantel.

Riley: Xero and Danny already defeated ELM and Z in a tag match last week, surprising everyone, that shocked everyone, if they can win against the Creative Control tonight here in Kansas, people will take them more seriously as a threat towards the current tag team champs.

Grand Slam: But the current tag team champions are M7 members, and if Danny and Xero win tonight, it would lead to a weird pay per view match between the two teams. I mean you do not want to hurt your team mates, but you know that the tag belt is on the line, and in the middle is Xero, who is basically Danny's friend and the loyalty towards his M7 mates. What can he do?

Riley: That'll only happen if Danny and Xero defeat Creative Control tonight.

Grand Slam: But I'm just saying, that if Danny and Xero wins tonight that the situation as I just said would be weird.

Riley: Indeed it would my friend, indeed it would, but its like me stating that I like women, its just not going to happen.

Grand Slam looks at Bobby weird and slowly begins to move away from Bobby.

Riley: Um... I meant men. If I started liking men, ya that is it.

Grand Slam: Sometimes I'm not sure about you being my partner for the matches, you're one odd fellow.

The lights fade to black as the words "Obey Your Master" is shouted from the PA system. The intro riff of Metallica's "Master of Puppets" makes a sonic boom towards the crowd here in Kansas. After about 15 seconds into Master of Puppets, the song fades away as the crowd is so faint that you can hear a pin drop. Dillenger Escape Plan "Calculating Infinity" starts up, as both "Deathwish" Danny Williams and Xero come out together as red fireworks explode on either side of them.

Funyon: Tonights first match is a tag team match, for the number one contership for the SWF TAG TEAM TITLES! Weighing in first at Four Hundred Forty Nine pounds, the team of "DEATHWISH"...DANNY WILLIAMS AND XERO!!!

Both Danny and Xero walk down towards the ring as a mixture of cheers and boo's are welcomed towards them. Xero slides underneath the bottom rope, while Danny walks up the steel stairs and makes his way through the ropes.

Grand Slam: Between both Danny and Xero, these two have lots of confidence going into this match tonight.

Riley: Beat the CC tonight, and I really think that both Danny and Xero can win against Chili Chili Bang Bang at Apocolypse

The screen goes all fuzzy, as small clips of destruction, riots and war are shown, then it quickly goes away as the Smarktron is completly black. Stabbing Westward "Save Yourself" starts up as Sacred and Lerrin walk out together with another mixture of cheers and boo's.

Grand Slam: The crowd is not really to sure who to cheer for in this match.

Riley: It’s Kansas, almost everyone is brain dead that lives out in the midwest.

Grand Slam: I'M FROM THE MIDWEST DAMN IT!

Riley jumps as Mark raised his voice.

Riley: Note that I said almost...not everyone, and you are not everyone, but than everybody out here is inbred.

Grand Slam: That's Alabama and Mississippi.

Funyon: There opponents for tonight in this tag team number one contender's match up. At a combined weight of 506 pounds, they are proud members of the Creative Control...Sacred and LERRIN BREGGAN!!!

Sacred and Lerrin make there way into the ring as Xero and Danny look on towards the creative control team. In their respective corner, Xero and Danny are talking about their strategy for the match.

Grand Slam: It looks like Danny is going to start off this tag match, and it looks like Sacred is in as well.

Both Sacred and Danny stand in the ring as the referee signals for the bell as the match gets underway. DING! DING! DING! Danny and Sacred circle each other a few times, before locking up in a collar elbow tieup. Danny takes the advantage with side headlock, but Sacred quickly reverses out with a hammerlock.

Stevens: That is the second time this week that somebody has easily escaped a Williams’ headlock with a hammerlock.

Riley: What are you implying that Williams has gotten sloppy.

Stevens: No, but if you start a match off the same way over and over again, people are going to catch on.

Williams looks for an elbow, but Sacred is in to good of a position for Williams to land it. Williams walks around in circles, pondering an escape. “HUUUUUUUH! grunts Williams as he powers out of the hammerlock, and reverses into a hammerlock of his own. But a slippery Sacred slips out of the hammerlock, and trips up Williams with a drop toe hold! Sacred starts to stomp on the back of Danny. Sacred lifts him back up to his feet, and presses him up against the ropes. Sacred clutches his right hand and smacks Danny in the face with a strong hook punch! Danny jolts his head towards the side after that punch, as Sacred lands a few more solid right hands against Danny's face!

Stevens: Sacred now with a flurry of right hands to Williams’ face!

Riley: I’am I the only person that gives a damn about the rules anymore! Close fist punches are illegal for crying out loud. Why doesn’t Hardcastle get off his ass and do something.

Xero looks on worried about his rookie partner as Lerrin is nothing but smiles. Sacred launches the punch drunk Williams off the ropes, and catches him with another drop toe hold as he charges back! Williams frantically climbs to his hands and knees, only to get caught with a kick right in the mouth! Sacred runs to the ropes, bounces off the ropes, and nails a running elbow drop onto Williams’ back. Sacred makes the cover, as the ref drops to his feet.

One..

Danny easily kicks out!

Grand Slam: Sacred is just kicking the crap out of Danny right now.

Sacred pulls up Danny by his wrist and whips into the CC corner! Sacred sprints towards Danny, and crushes him with a body avanlanche! Sacred tags in Lerrin as both men start to double team on poor Danny in the corner stomping on his ribs.

Riley: Damn you Xero, Williams needs your help.

Grand Slam: "Deathwish" Danny is wishing he wants death right now.

Sacred picks up Danny from the mat as both Sacred and Lerrin grab both of Danny's arms, and put them behind each of their heads. The Creative Control lifts Willliams up for a Double Suplex, and brings him down squarely in the middle of the ring!

Stevens: Great teamwork by the Creative Control team!

Lerrin makes a lazy cover on "Deathwish". The referee goes down on the mat and starts to make the pin count.

One...

Two-Danny is able to lift the shoulder up.

Lerrin looks at the referee and tells him to count faster. Lerrin traps Williams in a chinlock as he sits up, and starts squeezing his head like he’s juicing an orange! Williams pushes his way his way back to a vertical base, forcing Lerrin to adjust the chinlock to a side headlock. Williams starts ramming some elbows into Lerrin’s stomach to create some space, but Williams doesn’t have that much space to begin with, so there is zero leverage behind Williams’ favorite strikes. “HUUUUUUR!” groans Lerrin as he tightens the headlock to subdue Williams. Lerrin again adjusts the move, this time to a front facelock. Lerrin flexes his massive biceps as he gives Williams’ neck a few hard twists.

Stevens: Well I be damned, Lerrin is actually using Williams own fool proof strategy against him. This time Lerrin is the larger slower man using headlocks to slow down the smaller and faster Williams. Very ironic, eh Riley.

Riley: Very Erotic, the hell you talking about! I keep telling you, I’am not gay! So why don’t you just shut up you homophobic sonuvabitch!

Stevens: um................Wow, Lerrin is really working that facelock.

Feeling that he has Williams at his mercy, Lerrin takes the risk of setting Williams up for a Vertical Suplex. Lerrin grabs a handful of Williams’ tights, and hoists the bulky grappler off the mat! Lerrin spins around for a little Corkscrew, but lets Williams’ slip out of the facelock! Williams lands behind Lerrin, and immediately charges for the ropes. Lerrin spins around as fast as his massive frame will let him, but it’s not fast enough! CRACK! Williams nails Lerrin right in the chin with a Running Elbow! Lerrin hits the mat like a very, very, very, heavy sack of bricks.

Riley: It seems like Lerrin tired to get a bit too fancy a bit too early, allowing Williams’ to simply break his face with a Running Elbow.

Stevens: I tell you after watching what Williams’ did to ELM on Strom, I’d have to say that Williams’ elbows are the most lethal strikes in the history of the SWF, period.

Danny starts to crawl towards Xero as he desperatly wants to get in the ring. "Deathwish" Danny is able to crawl to the corner and is able to tag Xero in for the first time in the match! The crowd could really give a rat’s ass though. A dazed Lerrin slowly climbs to his feet, as Xero springboards up to the top turnbuckle. Xero leaps off the top turnbuckle, connecting a Missile Dropkick from the top rope! But big Lerrin doesn’t go down, however the impact sends him stumbling backwards into his corner! Sacred tags in for himself, by slapping the back of Lerrin to get in the ring. Sacred gets into the ring, as Xero stands up on his feet but has his back turned against Sacred. Xero spins on his heel, as Sacred charges towards Xero, and nails the Kamikazee, that catches Xero off guard. The fans applaud the first high spot of the match even if it’s Sacred’s.

Riley: HOLY SHIT!!! SACRED NEARLY SPLIT XERO IN HALF!!!

Grand Slam: What a spear, I mean Kamikazee.

Riley: He ain't getting up.

Sacred makes the cover on Xero...

One...

Two...

Thr-Danny is able to drop the elbow on the back of Sacred’s neck before the count of three.

Grand Slam: If it wasn't for Danny, the match would have been over.

Sacred grabs Xero by his wrist and yanks him up to his feet. Sacred starts throwing forearms like a mad man knocking Xero back to the ropes.

Riley: You know what the biggest difference between Sacred’s forearms and Danny’s elbows is.

Stevens: What, their name?

Riley: No, Danny’s makes contact. BAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Stevens: What on earth do you mean, of course Sacred’s forearms mack contact.

Irish whip by the Aussie as Xero goes right towards the ropes. Xero recoils off the ropes as Sacred grabs the right hand of Xero, twists the arm of Xero around his neck and drops him down with a killer looking Knifey Spooney.

Grand Slam: Nice looking variation of a neck breaker, knocking down the swift pacing of Xero.

Riley: What the hell is swift pacing!

Sacred shouts something at Breggan that prompts him to enter the ring. Breggan steps in between Williams and Sacred, as Sacred covers Xero for the pin. Breggan crosses his arms, and gives Williams a looks that says “I dare you to try to get by me.” Hardcastle makes the count, while Williams looks on from the apron.

ONE!

TWO!

NO! Xero raises his shoulder up! Sacred locks a front facelock on Xero, while Breggan goes back out on the apron. Sacred walks Xero to the CC Corner, and tags in Breggan! Breggan steps in to a few claps from the audience, and carefully takes Xero away from Sacred with a front facelock of his own. Breggan walks Xero to the center of the ring, and gives his neck a few nasty jerks. Breggan sits Xero up for the Suplex, and lifts the junior heavyweight up with ease. Breggan does a little corkscrew, before slamming Xero to the mat with authority! Breggan sits up, and smirks at Williams. Breggan than signals it’s all over, and lifts Xero up in a Torture Rack! The crowd stands on their feet with anticipation for the markout move!

Stevens: KING’S DECISION COMING UP!

But Williams rushes into the ring, and clips Breggan’s massive left leg!

Stevens: What a cheap shot by Williams!

Riley: What cheap shot? All I saw was Breggan collapse from a leg cramp.

Breggan uncharacteristically cries out in pain, and drops to the mat! Xero lands on top of Breggan for the lateral press. “BOOOOOOOOOO!” moans the angry crowd. Wearing a smirk, Williams goes back to his corner as Hardcastle starts the count.

ONE!

Breggan bench presses Xero off! Xero soars through the air, and lands near his corner with a thump. Breggan tries to get up, but his leg gives out and he crumbles to the mat. Xero quickly tags in Williams, and crawls to the safety of the apron. Williams rushes into the ring, and grabs hold of Breggan’s bad leg. Williams starts dropping elbow after elbow on to Breggan’s knee, while the big man lays helplessly on his back.

Riley: Wow, look at Williams go. Three! Four! Five! Six! Seven! Eight! Nine! Ten! Eleven!

Stevens: Yes, the endless leg elbows, we’ve seen Williams do this before back in the SJL.

Williams seems to drop elbows forever, before finally stopping after about twenty. Despite the unbearable pain in his leg, Breggan bites his lip and refuses to scream or even grunt. Suddenly, Williams darts across the ring, and blasts Sacred with a Running Back Elbow Smash! CRACK! Sacred flies off the apron, and crashes into the guardrail! CLANK!

Stevens: Another cheap shot by Williams! You had to see that one, Riley!

Riley: All I saw was Sacred loose his balance and slip off the apron. Typical clumsy Australian.

Xero starts climbing the turnbuckles, and balances himself on the top rope. Williams drags the heavy Breggan to the center of the ring by his leg, and holds his tree trunk of a leg in place. Cameras flash as Xero does a beautiful Shooting Star Press, and lands right on Breggan’s leg! Breggan sits up screaming, before seemingly passing out from pain. Xero quickly rolls out on to the apron, before Hardcastle can even warn him. Still holding on to Breggan’s leg, Williams stands up and tucks his boot underneath his armpit!

Stevens: SINGLE LEG CRAB COMING UP!

Riley: It appears that Williams has found the kink in Lerrin’s armor.

Stevens: Did you just say kinky leather armor?

“HUUUUUUUR” grunts Williams as he struggles to turn the near three hundred pounder over! Williams gets Breggan half way and that starts stomping his head, drawing some “BOOS!” from the crowd! Williams finally turns Breggan over, and sits back to lock in the hold! With no where to go, Breggan buries his head in his hands and tries to block the pain out. It’s no use and Breggan has no choice but to tap! But Sacred rolls into the ring, and kicks Williams right in the mouth!

Stevens: Sacred getting some payback for the Williams’ cheap shot.

Riley: Payback for what? Williams never touched Sacred, Sacred just lost his balance and fell off the apron his own damn self.

Williams releases Breggan’s leg, and falls to his hands and knees while holding his bloody mouth. Sacred climbs back out on the apron, and extends his hand as far as it can legally go. Breggan starts crawling towards his partner’s hand, dragging his dead leg behind him. But Williams latches on to Breggan’s boot, and digs his boots into the mat to hold Breggan in place. Williams stars dragging Breggan away from Sacred’s corner, but Breggan uses the leverage to stand up on his good leg. Breggan bounces around on one leg, while Williams still has a grip on his bad one. Williams starts chopping Breggan’s leg to get him back under control. CRACK! Breggan defies gravity, and drills the back of Williams’ head with a big Enzugari! Williams drops lifelessly to the mat, and the fans actually applaud Breggan’s resilience.

Riley: Oh great! Annie doing Sommersault Sentons, and now Breggan doing Enzugaris. What’s next, Frost doing moonsaults.

Breggan starts crawling to Sacred, as the fans surprisingly urge him on. Williams is crawling to his corner at about the same speed. Breggan makes it with an arm’s reach of Sacred, and holds out his hand. SMACK!

Stevens: BREGGAN MADE THE TAG!

Riley: SO DID WILLIAMS!

The fans erupt as Sacred and Xero rush out of their corners, and meet up in the center of the ring. Breggan rolls all way down to the floor, where some trainers and officials start stretching out his leg.

Riley: Can you believe the lack of integrity that Breggan has?

Stevens: What are you talking about?

Riley: You know, that he would fake a leg injury to get out of the match.

Stevens: Faked, he took a leg clip while holding a man on his shoulders.

Riley: What leg clip do you keep talking about?

Stevens: Why do I even bother.

Xero and Sarced start trading Roundhouse kicks to each other’s ribs! After trading about four kicks, Xero draws back his boot extra far and kicks Sacred as hard as he can! SMACK! Sacred drops to one knee, holding his ribs and breathing hard. But to Xero’s surprise, Sacred stands right back up to a loud response from the crowd. Realizing he’s going to need more leverage to put Sacred down, Xero bounces of the ropes and comes charging back at Sacred! CRACK! Xero runs right into a Harlem Sidekick! Sacred lifts the stunned Xero up, and locks on a front facelock!

Stevens: And Xero looks like he is going to be suffering from a CRUEL FATE!

But Williams rushes in, and smashes Sacred in the back of the neck with a Rolling Elbow!

Riley: Wrong Stevens! Sacred is going to be suffering from a BAD NECK!

Stevens: By hitting a man with his back turned.

Riley: WITH THE ROLLING ELBOOOOOOW!

Before Sacred goes down, Williams tucks his head underneath his arm pit and holds him up. Williams lifts Sacred up into the air, and snaps back!

Riley: BACKDROP DRIVAAAAAAAAAAH!

Sacred lands right on the top of head, and lifelessly rolls over on his belly. Williams rolls Sacred’s corpse over, and drags Xero on top of him. Hardcastle hesitates to start the count, but Williams screams “Well count dammit!” Williams climbs back on to the apron, and Hardcastle starts the count. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

NO! Sacred raises his arm up! Some claps can be heard echoing through the arena. Williams spits and curses on the apron, and holds out his hand to Xero. Xero crawls to his corner, and tags Williams in. “BOOS!” rain down upon the ring, as Williams makes his entrance. Williams pulls Sacred up with a front facelock, and drapes his limp arm over his shoulder.

Riley: Alright! Williams setting Sacred up for the Dangerous Brainbuster! We haven’t seen that move in a while.

Stevens: Not since he nearly crippled Z! The Dangerous Brainbuster is easily of the most feared and dangerous moves in the SWF. If he hits this, there’s a 50/50 chance he could break Sacred’s neck!

Riley: That’s why they call it Dangerous, you dumbass.

“IIIEEEEEEEEE!”spits Williams as he hoists Sacred into the air. But Sacred slips out of the facelock, and lands behind Williams! Before Williams knows w

Stevens: SCHOOL BOY PIN! WILLIAMS HAS NEVER KICKED OUT OF A SCHOOL BOY! THIS COULD BE IT!

The fans rise to their feet as Hardcastle frantically drops to the mat, and starts the count.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

NO! Xero breaks the pin up with a Roundhouse kick to the back of Sacred’s neck! Sacred grabs the back of his neck and rolls around on the mat in extreme pain. Breggan is still having his leg worked on, but is beginning to grow restless and shout profanities at the trainers to leg him continue. Williams and Xero pull Sacred up with a double front facelock, and each toss an arm over their shoulders. The crowd “Ahhhs” as Williams and Xero each hook one of Sacred’s legs.

Stevens: OH DEAR GO, NO!

Riley: XERO AND WILLIAMS SETTING SACRED UP FOR A DOUBLE FISHERMANBUSTER!

Stevens: With both his legs hooked like that, he could be KILLED!

Breggan shrugs off the trainer’s warnings, and rolls into the ring to make the save! But he’s too late, as Williams and Xero hoist Sarced up and plant his head into the mat!

Riley: DOUBLE FISHERMAN BUSTAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Breggan briefly pauses from the shock of seeing Sacred’s head bounces off the mat. Williams and Xero freeze when they spot Breggan’s shadow towering over them. They quickly regroup and Williams covers Sacred, while Xero charges Breggan.

ONE!

Breggan catches Xero as he come in with a Gorilla Press Slam while only standing on one leg!

TWO!

Breggan tosses Xero to the side, and dives at Williams.

THRE NO! Breggan breaks the pin up with a Double Axe Handle to Williams’ back!

Stevens: BREGGAN MAKES THE SAVE! WHAT HEART! WHAT DETERMINATION!........

Riley: What an ass kisser!

Breggan doesn’t stop, and keeps on pounding Williams’ back with Double Axe Handles! Hardcastle gives Breggan a warning and starts counting. Not wanting to go down like that, Breggan rolls back to the apron. A sore Xero rolls back on to the apron as well. Sacred still hasn’t move since taking the neck breaking move, and Williams just covers him again.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

NO! Breggan makes the save with another diving Double Axe Handle to Williams’ back! This time Breggan rolls back to his corner with out incident. Williams stands up and gives Breggan an evil glare. Breggan isn’t intimidated and just stares right back. Williams grabs hold of Sacred’s wrist, and drags his limp carcass across the ring back to his corner. Once in the safety of his own corner, Williams covers Sacred again. Breggan steps over the top rope, and starts hobbling across the ring. Hardcastle already starts counting, and it’s clear Breggan isn’t going to make it in time.

ONE!

TWO!

THRE

NO! Sacred raises a shoulder up, and a surprised Breggan stops in his tracks and heads back to his corner. A frustrated Williams jumps to his feet, and whispers something into Xero’s ear. Williams drags Sacred to the center of the ring, and traps his head between his knees. Williams pulls Sacred up by his tights, and locks his arms around his waist.

Stevens: It looks like Williams is going to try put Sacred away with the Deathbomb!

Riley: No duh! I thought he was going for a piledriver.

Suddenly, Williams releases Sacred form the head scissors and charges at Breggan! CRACK! Williams knocks Breggan off the apron with a hard Running Elbow! Breggan lands on his feet, but immediately collapses from the pain his leg. Xero rushes into the ring, and pulls Sacred up with a front facelock! Williams steps out on to the apron, and waits for Breggan to pull himself up with the guardrail. Once Breggan is on his feet, Williams dives off the apron and smashes his face with an Elbow Suicida! Breggan slides down the guardrail, and flops face first on to the floor. Xero tosses Sacred’s arm over his shoulder, and his hooks his leg!

Stevens: OH NO! Xero is going to further the damage to Sacred’s neck with the Fisherman Buster!

Xero goes for the lift, but Sacred starts driving right hands into his stomach! Xero has no choice but unhook Sacred’s leg, and return fire! With his leg now free, Sacred starts driving hard knees into Xero’s stomach! The culmination of body blows knocks the wind out of Xero, forcing him to drop to his knees. Sacred pulls Xero back up with the front facelock, and the fans get on their feet in hopes of seeing one of the most feared finishers in the federation. Sacred jumps backwards, and plants Xero’s face into the mat!

Stevens: CRUEL FATE! HE HIT! XERO IS OUT!

The fans explode into cheers and feel the arena with the sound of feet stomping. Sacred tries to stand back up, but his legs give out and he falls flat on his BUTT. Williams looks back in the ring, and takes notice of the situation. Xero is face down on the mat, and Sacred is making a second attempt to stand up. Sacred makes it to his hands and knees, and cautiously starts to straighten his legs. Sacred wobbles a bit, but he finally makes it to his feet. Sacred spots Williams watching on the outside. Sacred points to the laid out Xero, and says “Your next!” Williams spits some profanities at Sacred as climbs on to the apron.

Williams pulls himself to a vertical base with the ropes, but Sacred starts hammering his chest with Roundhouse Kicks on the way up. Williams cries out each time Sacred’s boot connects, but he still fights his way to his feet. Williams steps through the second rope, and takes a Roundhouse kick right to the back of the neck! CRACK! Williams wobbles and his eyes roll up in his head. Sacred quickly locks on a front facelock and jumps backwards!

Stevens: CRUEL FATE!

But Williams hangs on to the ropes, and lets Sacred land right on his face!

Riley: NO! And will you please stop the early calls, your confusing the viewers.

Williams waits by the ropes, as a dazed Sacred climbs to his feet! CRACK! Williams sends him right back to the mat, with a Running Elbow! “BOOOOOOOOOOO!” is the only audible sound in the arena, as Williams signals it’s over. Williams drops to his knees, and locks a front facelock on Sacred! Despite Sacred’s legs being almost completely limp, Williams manages to pull him to his feet. Williams tosses Sacred’s arm over his shoulder, and grabs a handful of his tights. “IEEEEEEEEEEE” grunts Williams as he strains to lift Sacred up into the air.

Stevens: DANGEROUS........

Riley: Not yet!

Without even lifting Sacred all the way up, Williams drops back and drives Sacred’s head into the mat! THUMP! Sacred’s body grotesquely folds up upon impact, before his body lifelessly bounces over on his back.

Riley: Now Stevens, Now!

Stevens: DANGEROUS BRAINBUSTAAAAAAAAAAH!

Hardcastle turns away with horror at the sight. Hardcastle regains his compsure, checks Sacred’s pulse, and signals the match can go on. Williams scrambles on top of Sacred, and hooks his leg for the pin. Breggan pulls himself up with the guardrail, and hobbles to the arpon but he’s too late. Hardcastle starts the count.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Hardcastle raises Williams’ arm, and signals for the bell to make it offical. DING! DING! DING!

Riley: IT’S OOOOOOOOVER!

Funyon: The winners of the match at 25 minutes and 54 seconds......WILLIAMS AND XEROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Williams helps Xero up, and raises his arm in the air to share the victory! The fans of course “BOOOOO!” the hell out of them.

Stevens: Xero and Williams have won the right to face the tag champions.

Riley: But what will happen when Williams steps in the ring with his fellow M7 stablemates?

Stevens: Well as much as I would like to answer that question, we are already 200 words over the word limit.

Riley: Word limit, what the hell have you been smoking, Stevens?

Stevens: We’ll be right back folks, stay tuned.

August 20, 2002

In the parking lot of the Kemper Arena, Z and Edwin MacPhisto survey the damage that has been wrought on their beloved Love Rollercoaster.

“Cheer up, Zedster. It’s not all that bad,” jokes MacPhisto, in a less-than-convincing fashion. “I mean, all that black paint is going to take some time to get rid off, I know, and that “Silence Special” decal on the top will probably need to be sanded off or something, but the steering wheel is fine…and the horns on the hood’ll come off, eventually. I think we can get rid of the spikes on the tires, too…”

Edwin continues his dispassionate analysis of the Rollercoaster’s remains as Z nods numbly, his mind on the cage match later tonight, or perhaps the relatively unexplainable $19.98 on Raynor’s VISA card.

The crown prince of flash and panache rambles on about the variety of ways the Carnival’s favorite golf cart can be salvaged…until a familiar voice hits his ears…

“…Yes, I know, the blunt trauma is perhaps more effective, but I’ve always thought there was something, I don’t know, suitably dramatic about piano wire, you know? There was this one time, you know, in the Carnival’s locker room, that I…”

Edwin whirls around, ready to fight another of his seemingly endless battles with Chris Wilson…and stops, his jaw hitting the floor as Wilson and Silent approach him and Z, side by maniacal, slightly psychotic side.

“Oh, good evening, Edwin. You too, Z,” exclaims Wilson, entirely too chipper for someone of his particularly evil bent. “I was just discussing the merits of canes versus piano wire as weaponry with my newest business associate. Edwin, Z, say hello to Silent. Though I think you’ve all met before, haven’t you?” Silent smirks as Edwin, eyes wide, looks from Wilson to Silent, and back to Wilson. Z does his best to look menacing…and fails, as Wilson continues.

“Anyway, I really must be off. I’ve got a match to get ready for, you know, all that nonsense. Silent’s got some work to do to for that cage match tonight. Maybe you’ll both stop by after the show for a game of chess?” Silent chuckles as the two villains turn, trenchcoats flowing behind them, and head towards the Magnificent Seven’s locker room.

Z seems about to speak, to call out to one psychopath or the other, but Silent turns…”Edwin?”

”Love what you’ve done with the golf cart.”

The Slaughterer follows on the heels of the mastermind as the two procede down the hall, leaving a confused Alex Zenon and a bewildered Edwin MacPhisto in their wake.

“Edwin?” ventures Z, looking up at his companion. “That wasn’t, um, good, just then, was it?”

MacPhisto opens his mouth…then closes it. The crown prince of flash and panache absently rubs his forehead as his two nemesises(nemesisi?) move further and further away.

“No, Alex…it’s just bloody fucking fantastic.”

August 20, 2002

(We come back from commercial. Why haven't you? .... I guess we'll wait, but you're missing some good stuff here! I mean, there are funny signs, and... uh... NAKED WOMEN! NAKED COLLEGE GIRLS BOUNCING AROUND AND KISS... oh, that brought you back. Feh... you're all the same....

Cut from the non-naked audience to the non-naked annoucer's table where "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley sit, still over the shock ending from the #1 contender tag team match....)

Riley: And remember when he did that...

Stevens: and the crowd went all....

Riley: and then Breggan did that thing...

Stevens: and where the hell did Xero come from?

Riley: then Deathwish hit the...

Stevens: and Sacred came from behind and...

Stevens and Riley: BLAMOOO!!!!

Stevens: *panting* Wow... such a great start! If y'all missed that match, I don't know what to tell you. Sorry! Heh, but you're here for match number two, and it's an interesting matchup, with the "Hardcore Queen" fresh off another frustrating loss to Creative Control set to take the underdog Ced Ordonez. It's been rumored that Ced may be taking some time off, but he wanted to leave on a strong note, hoping to take it to Annie Eclectic in her own territory.. a hardcore match!

Riley: Someone will end their losing streak tonight! ...Stevens, you continue, I just can't hype this....

Stevens: ...thanks. Well, anyway these two have... well no history whatsoever. But they've had differences of opinion.... actually they haven't.

(A long pause occurs)

Stevens: ...Riley is gay.

Riley: I AM NOT!

Stevens: Whatever, fruit loop. Funyon's in the ring, let's start the carnage!

(The immaculate announcer takes center stage... center ring, sorry. Center ring.)

Funyon: Ladies and Gentlemen, this match, set for one fall, is a Hardcore match!

(The bass beat of "B 4 U~Glorious Style" begins pumping through the PA system. The royal blue and black clad Ced Ordonez walks through the entrance curtain, stepping in time to the beats from the music and from the crowd chanting "Ced! Ced!" at high pace.)

Stevens: Word has passed around fast, and the crowd is making sure Ced gets possibly the loudest ovation he's seen yet!

(Ced takes a couple seconds to stare at the crowd, taking in the sight of thousands of cheering fans before running down the ramp. Halfway down he stops, as a storm of silver and black streamer fly through the air above him. As the streamers die down, he finished his run down the ramp high-fiving fans as he strides towards the ring.)

Funyon: First, hailing from Sacremento, California and weighing in at two hundred ten pounds.... Ceeeed.... ORDONEEEZZZZZZ!!!!

(Ced rolls underneath the bottom rope and pops to his feet, acknowledging the crowd with raised fists high in the air, smiling from ear to ear. The lights dim in the arena, a single spotlight shining at tht top of the entrance ramp. A very attractive caucasian woman holds a microphone, her dark brown hair flowing onto her shoulders. She straightens out her "Hardcore Handmaiden" baby-T shirt and raises the microphone to her lips...)

Molly: Funyon, if you would be so kind...

(Completely used to the routine now, Funyon exits the ring to his seat next to the timekeeper.)

Molly: Thank you.

(The familiar guitar stylings of a certain Mr. Wilkes-Kryer flow through the arena...)

Molly: And his opponent... from Chicago, Illinois... She's sexy... She's sweet, and She's your NEXT... S, W, F, HARDCORE CHAMPION.... My lover, and your new favorite wrestler.... ANNIIIIIEEE... ECLEEECTIIIC!!! YEAH!

("She is Beautiful" by Andrew W.K. Kicks into full gear, a wall of white pyro exploding in front of Molly. The pyro dies down, smoke fogging any view at the entrance ramp. As the smoke clears, drums beat...

"I NEVER KNEW GIRLS EXISTED LIKE YOU!"

...and the "Hardcore Queen" Annie Eclectic bounces from behind the curtain, arms extended in the air and grinning like a maniac. The lyrics hit the chorus, as Annie points to herself and then Molly for each "She Is Beautiful". She takes the microphone from Molly and stares at her opponent as the music lowers slightly to allow her voice to be heard...)

Annie: Hey and yo! Look, it's Ced Ordonez! He's... uh, well we've never faced off have we?

(Ced looks at Eclectic, shaking his head 'no')

Annie: No, we haven't. And I don't think we have anything against each other, do we?

(Ced again shakes his head 'no')

Annie: Huh. Well then, I have no reason to completely beat the living hell out of you... except... that we need to give all the fans here a show! So, I'm coming at you full speed, and I'm expecting the same out of you! Fair fight, at least as fair as you can get in a Hardcore match... that cool with you?

(Ced smiles, nodding his head yes, eliciting a huge pop from the crowd.)

Annie: Then my friend, let's give 'em something to talk about!!!

(Annie rushes towards the ring, unsheathing her kendo sword from the sheath on her back as Molly attempts to catch up. Before rolling underneath the bottom rope, she tears the sheath away from her pink 'Angel' top and throws it to the ground...)

DING DING DING

(...and gets knocked backwards from a baseball slide courtesy of Ordonez!)

Stevens: Ced wants to make a name for himself tonight, and defeating the Hardcore Queen could leave a huge imprint on Creative Control for when he returns.

Riley: Or give them a sore spot if he's able to take out the woman that refused to flat out lie down for any of their members.

Stevens: Showing respect for the Queen at last Riley?

Riley: No, I'm just saying, she wouldn't screw any of them! Frigid bitch!

Stevens: Ugh.... just ugh....

(Annie rolls backwards from the strike, dropping her sword in the process. Ced picks up the weapon and swings it downwards but just misses the rolling Angel. Annie pops to her feet and steps back, but is forced to stop as the steel steps block her backwards path. Ced raises the sword high and makes for another down swipe but Annie rolls backwards off the top step, the wooden cane coming down upon bare steel with a loud CRACK~! Annie lands on her feet behind the steps and strikes forward with a hard kick, segmenting the top steps from the bottom and sending them into Ced's ribs, doubling him over. With force, Annie grabs Ced's head and smashes it against the steel, sending it and him crumpling to the floor as the kendo sword clatters away behind him.)

Stevens: Annie shows some quick thinking, avoiding her own weapon being used against her. Gotta admit Riley, that roll off the steps then kicking it into Ced was pretty cool.

Riley: I hate both these geeks, they should just die. DIE YOU GEEKS! DIE! DIE! DIE! OOPHY!

(Stevens shakes his hand from the punch sent to his co-announcer)

Stevens: Gay bitch....

(Annie hops over the mess of steel and flesh, tip-toeing around the referee trying to reach her precious sword. The Angel bends over to grab the weapon... then has her footing swept away as Ced pulls on both her legs, flattening her aganist the floor. Ced climbs up to his knees and begins crawling over Annie, heading towards the wooden cane. Ced reaches out and grabs the weapon, leaning back and driving the handle hard into the back of Annie's head. Ced swings down again, cracking the hard wooden handle against Annie's unprotected skull. Ced raises the cane high for a third shot, but gets a hard kick underneath the chin, knocking him backwards! Ced rolls with the hit, coming up to one knee with the sword raised high facing his attacker.... the lovely Molly!)

Stevens: Molly makes the save, but apparently her strike was only hard enough to anger Ced!

Riley: Take out the bitch! Then take out the butch! DEATH TO THE NON BELIEVERS!!!

Stevens: Do I have to knock you out silly again.

Riley: I'm sorry wookums...

(Stevens punches Riley with all his strength again.)

Stevens: You deserved that... again.....

(Ced rises to his feet, slowly stalking Molly, who backpedals up the ramp. Ced steps over his fallen opponent, a look of anger masking his normally jovial face. Molly puts her hands up in protest, but Ced reaches his pray, bringing the kendo stick high... and dropping it as the pain from the vicious kick to the groin registers in his brain! Ced crumples slowly to the steel below him as Annie's angry form appears behind him. Annie waves her finger in a 'no-no' motion as the crowd pops for Annie protecting her lover.)

Stevens: Wow, I would never... EVER try to pull crap on Molly without making sure Annie was completely out of it. Two shots to the back of the head, and then threatening Molly? Yes folks, Annie E is right pissed off!

(Annie pulls the groaning Ced around to face her, and delivers a hard knee into the ribs of Ced. Locking Ordonez in a front face lock, Annie throws Ced's near arm over her head and grabs onto the edge of his tights. With a high grunt, Annie lifts Ordonez high up into the air and holds him vertical, stepping back and forth quickly to keep her balance on the ramp. Five...ten seconds pass before Annie falls backwards, driving Ced's head and neck hard into the unforgiving steel!)

Stevens: Stalled brainbuster! I'd be shocked if Ced were still breathing after that shot! Annie hooks a leg, and the official drops for a cover...

ONE....

TWO....

THR....NO! Ced kicks out just on two and a half! A close call, but Ced's slow in getting up. This won't help especially with the Hardcore Queen already up and looming over him...

Riley: Why'd you have to punch me so...

(Stevens punches Riley with all his strength)

Stevens: Stay down, bitch.

(Annie stands back, waving her hands upwards to egg Ced to rise to his feet. Ced gets up slowly, his head reeling from the combined rush of blood and impact upon the steel. Annie steps forward, bouncing on her feet as she sends out a quick left jab. Annie jabs again as Ced unsuccessfully attempts to avoid the blow. Annie hits a right cross, sending Ced backwards to the steel and causing him to roll backwards and land on his face! Annie rushes forward and rolls Ordonez back onto his back and covers him as the ref drops...)

ONE....

TWO....

THRE...NO!

Stevens: That was the closest of close! Ced just barely kicks out, but it was a simple punch combo sending him down. Annie's fists are hard, but I gotta worry about where his head is at...

Riley: *singing* Wheeeere's Yoooouur Heaaaaaad Aaaat Aaat? Where's your head... UPH!

Stevens: *shaking his hand* Shut the hell up for one match will you? It's not like you contribute....

(Annie drags Ced up to his feet, and delivers another hard knee to the gut, doubling Ordonez over. Annie locks a front facelock in, and then points down to the ground as she looks out at the cheering audience...)

Stevens: Is it? Annie is signalling for deadly Annie-T! This could be it!

(Annie grabs ahold of Ced's tights and readies herself for the lift.....)

Voice: *whispering* This....is pathetic....

(Annie releases the hold, dropping Ced to the floor. She spins around, looking for the body attached to the voice...)

Voice: Weren't you the Assassin? I would have imagined that you could have discarded this low form of human existance much earlier. Here... let me show you how a -true- Clan member... disposes of prey...

(Annie looks up towards the ramp, then at the ring... completely missing the dark figure climbing over the guard rail behind her. She hears a footstep and turns.... right into a caneshot from Silent! Annie falls backwards from the blow as Silent turns around... towards Ced....)

Stevens: IT'S SILENT! He's got Annie down... AND HE'S GOING FOR CED! WHAT IS HE DOING, CED HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH HIM???

(Silent lifts Ced back up to his feet, just as Ced is starting to gain cognisance of his surroundings. Silent takes his cane and whips it hard at the forehead of Ced, knocking him back to the floor. Silent steps over Ordonez, and tees off sending cane shots down onto his face, head, neck and ribs. The crowd boos in horror, even sending trash and even a stray chair at the Slaughterer. Ducking the flying chair, Silent steps back, picking a limp Ced up but the neck, and bringing him back up to a standing position....)

Stevens: This is disgusting! Why is Silent destroying Ced? Ced has done nothing to him or the Clan! I... I can't watch....

(Silent roughly throws Ced's head between his legs and wraps his arms around Ced's waist. Lifting him high, Silent steadies Ordonez's body across his shoulder. With a lift, Silent sends Ced up above his head, holding him high by both outstreched arms....)

Stevens: Not the Crucifix powerbomb....!

(and dropping him fast and hard headfirst onto the steel floor. Silent takes a second to survey his work, then steps to the side, picking up the microphone he dropped...)

Silent: Now... THAT.... is how a Clan membERK.....

(The crowd start to cheer as Silent is suddenly on the Hardcore Queen's shoulder. Annie screams out in rage as she drops back, throwing Silent forward and trapping his head onto her shoulder. Annie's body impacts on the ground, the force of the attack throws Silent up and off her shoulder, flying backwards. Silent lands, rolls back and rises back to his feet immediately. He steps back and shakes his head, but clears his mind, and stares straight into the angry eyes of Annie E. Annie picks up the fallen microphone...)

Annie: That is.... that is what? How a Clan member flies aorund like a buzzard, looking for easy prey because he's too much of a wuss to take on a fighting opponent? Too hell with you and the Clan! You want to show your might? See me at Apocalypse, one on one, hardcore match! Because I've let you breathe just a bit too long you quiet bitch, and I'll take you out, by decree... of the HARDCORE QUEEN!

(The crowd pops huge from the words out of Annie's mouth. Silent stares at the ex-Clannie... and nods his head. He curtly turns around and walks away from any further confrontation....

The referee checks upon the condition of Ced, and shakes his head. He calls for the bell....)

DING DING DING

Funyon: Your winner, as a result of a knockout.... Annie Eclectic.

Stevens: A bit of a anticlimactic win, but Annie suddenly has more on her mind, she has Silent at Apocalypse! This could be her chance at revenge.... but can she do anything? Silent simply -walked away- from the Splashdown! Things are afoot, but we're forced to break, so come back for... SWF SmarkDown!

(The camera fades as Annie tries to help the referee revive Ced Ordonez to conciousness....)

August 20, 2002

It’s backstage at the Kemper arena, as the screen flickers back to life. The camera starts to float down the hall, past the locker of TNT where the man is scratching his ass, then licking his fingers! It floats past the disturbing image, and past crew workers, passing locker rooms of the S-W-F and finally settling on the locker room. In a golden star, the words read “Creative Control” shining around. The door opens to see the locker room of the Creative Control. Lerrin and Sacred are sweaty from their match earlier on. Bo and JD in good condition, ready for the Main Event.

Jamie: “Yo Man. Thugg and me at the PPV. It is going to be sweet. I am going to fuck that fatass up beyond repair.”

Bo: “Yo Dawg. We did that already, remember?”

Jamie: “Heh heh. Yeah we did. However, you already know what is in store.”

Bo: “I do. Is he here tonight?”

Jamie: “I believe so.”

Bo: “Is it who I think it is.”

Jamie: “Let’s just say…”

SLAM!!

A young ring worker storms into the locker room, a headset on, and out of breath. He’s gasping for air as he he barely stutters out.

“Drazon.” JD turns to the young assistant, staring a hole into him.

Jamie: “This better be good son.”

“Your truck. It’s been vandalized.”

Jay Dawg’s eyes light up as he shoves the assistant out of the way.

Stevens: “Jay Dawg has just been informed that his truck has been vandalized! Who could have done this!?”

Riley: “It’s the bloody X-Force-9! I know it!”

Jay Dawg storms through some corridors, leaving a dent from his boot into it. He turns the corner and is in the parking lot. His jaw drops, as he catches the glimpse of the truck. The camera slowly turns toward it, as the truck has been smashed to bits. The tires knocked off, and the truck flattened quite well. Hanging from the broken windshield is a banner… saying…

“Thugg Life”

JD turns back to the doors. “Mother fucker!” He grabs a hold of the assistant who informed him, looking into his eyes. “Who did this?” he demands.

“I dun- dun know!” is all he can muster out.

“Shit! Where’s the X-Force-9 locker room?” He interrogates, but the man has fainted in fear from Jay Dawg’s rage.

Stevens: “Jay Dawg’s truck has been vandalized in a style that I know only one man can do!”

One last glimpse at the dismantled pickup, before they go to commercial.

August 20, 2002

“Oy!”

“TNT” kicks up, and the packed Kemper Arena explodes (no pun intended) into a chorus of boos as one half of the SWF Tag Champions cockily struts out on stage!

“Welcome back to… Storm?”

“Yes, Riley.”

“Welcome back to Storm! Mark was nice enough to let me segue into this match-”

“And I’m regretting it already.”

“Bite me, Grand Ham. Anywho, we’ve got a terrific fight coming up - TNT, one half of Chilly Chilly Bang Bang, tag team champions of the WOOOORLD!… is about to kick Chris Raynor’s ass.”

Mark scowls at him before taking over. “Just last week, the M7 representatives managed to lift the tag titles off of Chris Raynor and Edwin MacPhisto… with a little interference, I might add… and now, Raynor’s looking for revenge.”

TNT struts out, belt over his shoulder, with a look so smarmy I want to punch him in the face for it. He slips it off his shoulder and raises it up to the fans, garnering even louder boos before he heads down the ramp.

“The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from Anaheim, Californiaaa… weighing in at two hundred and sixty-seven pounds… he is a co-holder of the SWF Tag Team Championship… TEEE-EEENNNN-TEEEEEE!”

At the sound of his name, Taylor looks down at the ring, with a “You mean… me?” look, then grins and strolls on down the ramp and slides in under the ropes. He holds his belt up again, even offering Funyon an up close look in case he didn’t see it well enough the first time, before he hands it off to an attendant on the outside.

Suddenly the arena blacks out, and white lights being to strobe onstage as “Electra Made Me Blind” kicks the fans in the ass and out of their seats!

“His opponent, from Baton Rouge, Louisianaaa… weighing in at two hundred and fifty pounds… CHRIIIIIISSS RAYYYNOOOOR!”

The fans are going wild, and Mark is forced to shout over them “You gotta believe that Raynor’s going to be looking for some SERIOUS revenge. The Tag Titles have almost become HIS Title, and he’s not going to take too kindly to losing them.”

“Not so fast, AardMark. I do believe Raynor left in a huff on Storm, after seeing whatever was on that tape - if I’m as smart as I think I am, I’m willing to bet he’ll have other things on his mind.”

“Well, Riley, we’ll find out soon enough…

…just as soon as he gets out here.”

“Electra” has entered the chorus, and the fans are beginning to get a bit restless… the haze that filled the stage is dissipating quickly… but still no sign of Raynor.

“Uh…”

TNT shoves Funyon and starts shouting at him, but only gets a “PLEASE DON’T HURT MEEEE!” in response, which is unfortunately echoed into the mic. “Electra” fades away, leaving a very confused and upset crowd…

“Uhm… Raynor?” Riley asks, dripping with sarcasm. “You have to… you know… SHOW UP to get your ass kicked.”

“What’s going on?”

Ben Hardy goes sprinting down the ramp, getting his very own short lived “HARDY! HARDY!” chant before someone hit’s the guy who started it. He slides into the ring and whispers to Funyon…They both shrug…

“Ladies and gentlemen… CHRIIIIISS RAYYYYNOOOORRR!”

Again his theme music kicks up, and his fans cheer…

… but he doesn’t come out.

“Ok Raynor, stop being a pussy. It’s not funny anymore.”

“Riley, stuff a sock in it. Can we get someone backstage? Is he somewhere in the back?”

“Electra” fades away again, and now the crowd is starting to get angry, as the popcorn box bouncing off TNT’s head would suggest. More whispering… Funyon looks a little ticked off as he picks the mic back up.

“I have been informed, as per the SWF rulebook, that Chris Raynor has ONE MINUTE to come down to the ring, or he will forfeit the match!”

BOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

“Raynor equals Megawussy!” Riley snickers.

“This isn’t like Raynor at all… have we gotten someone backstage?”

The SmarkTron pops up, revealing a split screen with two cameras covering two different area. All attention is diverted to them as the cameramen search…

“Forty-five seconds!”

TNT seriously considers roughhousing Funyon again. But for now he watches. One of the cameras enters the parking lot, sweeps it, then heads back down a different corridor. The other one surveys a hallway full of locker room doors, and he goes on a quest for the Midnight Carnival’s.

“Thirty seconds!”

Camera #1 is navigating hallway after hallway after hallway, nothing of interest. Camera #2 passes up Bo in the hallway-

“Hey Gus!”

-and quickly runs past him.

“Fifteen seco-”

SWIPE!

TNT snags the mic and yells “RAYNOR, GET OUT HERE!”

Gus finally finds the MC locker room, and he squeezes the door open enough to see the Carnies huddled around the TV, wondering what the heck is going on. The crowd counts now, since Funyon can’t.

TEN!

NINE!

EIGHT!

SEVEN!

SIX!

FIVE!

A half-filled beer can clocks TNT across the face, as the alcoholic beverage splatters into his hair, where he uses it to slick back his auburn locks.

FOUR!

THREE!

TWO!

ONE!

BZZZZZZT! Well, only a few people say BZZZZT, but the point is clear. Funyon is handed a second mic.

“Ladies and gentlemen… the winner of this match, as a result of a forfeit… T-N-T!”

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Taylor throws down his mic in disgust and storms up the ramp, determined to find the noshowing bastard himself. Everyone else is left to wonder.

“I don’t like this Riley… I don’t like this at all.”

“Maybe he’s finally wisened up, realized he’s no good… hey, that popcorn man looks familiar!”

“Nice try.”

“No really, he does! Sweety, over here!”

…

“Folks, we’ll try to get to the bottom of this, but for now, we’ve got a commercial break. Stay with us!”

August 20, 2002

Aaaaaaaaaaand we’re back on SWF Smarkdown, yo! The fans in hop up onto their feet, signs galore dotting the crowd in the Kemper Arena, haunted to this day by the ghost of Owen Hart (God Bless His Soul) as everyone gets psyched. Signs shoot up into the air, the likes of “I CAME TO SEE SARAH’S BOOBS!” being seen on TVs across the nation. And now, it’s time to send it off to the two men in the announcer’s chairs, “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens and “The Human Penis Suplex Machine “ Bobby Riley.

Stevens: WELCOME BACK! We’re here on Smarkdown in Kansas City, Missouri... and what’s this fax machine doing here?

Riley: Stubby said we HAD to have it here. I don’t know why...

Stevens: Oh well. Anyways, next, Tod deKindes battles Ash Ketchum for a shot at Tom Flesher and the SWF US Title!

“I am Hated” by Slipknot hits, smoke filling the entranceway as blinding strobe lights fill the arena. Tod powerwalks out, clad in his trenchcoat and shades, and stops under the Smarktron to throw random looks at the crowd. He walks down the ramp with confidence in his steps, fans roaring as Funyon announces him:

Funyon: The following contest is scheduled for one-fall, and it is for #1 contendership to the SWF US CHAMPIONSHIP! From Muchen, Germany, weighing in at 223 pounds, he is a member of X FOOOOOORCE NIIINE... TOD DEKINDES!

He enters the ring, removing his coat and shades, and warms up on the ropes, pacing around the ring and gazing toward the entrance way.

Riley: Tod looks tough. I dunno if Ash can beat him tonight.

Suddenly, the lights cut out, a kickin’ piano solo blasting over the speakers. The crowd erupts into cheer, pyro similar to Christian’s entrance flowing from the top of the SmarkTron and spewing from vents in front of the entrance.

Stevens: Listen to the ovation!

Riley: Not again!

At the same time, a Poke Ball upon the SmarkTron. It begins to spin as the crowd pops, spinning faster and faster until it stops, blocked out by a picture of a certain wrestler’s head, winking at everyone in the arena. A huge pyro blast suddenly kicks up from the front of the stage as Billy Crawford’s “Pokemon Theme” blasts through the speakers. The pyro in front of the entrance then stops, and a spotlight shines down on Ash Ketchum. Turning around from his Jericho-like pose, he spins, smiling happily. Ash turns around and makes his way down to the ring, slapping hands with some of the crazed fans.

Funyon: And his opponent, from Pallet Town, weighing in at 258 pounds, he is a member of X FOOOOOOOORCE NIIIIINE... ASH KETCHUMMMMMMMMMMMMM!

He climbs up onto the apron, entering the ring. Ash climbs the turnbuckle closest to the crowd and with lightning precision, strips off his shirt. Whirling it wildly over his head, he smiles as he releases the shirt, flinging several rows back into the hands of a fan as Ash dismounts the turnbuckle, turning to face Tod, smiling.

Stevens: Ash seems pretty confident...

Riley: Too confident...

Eddy Long, Super Referee and back from injury, steps between the two to explain instructions, and with a nod of the head from both men, Eddy signals to the timekeeper to ring his bell...

DING DING DING! The two men back up, ready to fight. Tod leaps forward, as does Ash, but tod catchers him off guard, flipping him forward with a snapmare. Ash lands on his BUTT, but Tod quickly continues, leaping into the air and dropkicking Ash in the back of the head. Ash grabs his head, falling back, but Tod catches him, pulling Ash up into the air before falling back into a reverse suplex!

Stevens: Ouch! that was quick!

Ash recovers quickly, getting to his feet, but Tod grabs Ash’s arm, whipping him to the ropes. Ash hits them, and as he boucnes back, Tod catches Ash, lifitng him up a bit before falling to the mat, slamming Ash with a side slam! Ash cries out as Tod covers him for the first pin of the match:

One...

T-Ash kicks out! Tod and Ash both get to their feet, but Ash is able to leap onto Tod’s shoulders, wrap his legs around Tod’s throat, and throwing his body backwards, flip Tod around into a hurracanrana!

Riley: Not quite enough, eh?

Stevens: I’d say so. Tod barely got any offense in!

Botm men quickly get to their feet, but as they do, Ash hooks Tod’s arms, lifting him up before dropping to one knee and dropping Tod onto that knee with a underhook backbreaker, the Blastoise Backcracker! Tod cries out in pain after the move, grabbing his back as he sturggles onto his feet, but Ash scoops Tod up, and quickly, he runs across the ring, jumping into the air and hitting a running powerslam on Tod!

Stevens: What a running powerslam from Ash! The whole ring shook!

Riley: It scared me!

Ash picks Tod up off the mat, but just then...

“BEEEEEEEEP!”

Riley: Incoming Fax!

Stevens: What’s it say?

Riley: Hmmmmm... Stubby says this match is now NO DQ!

As if Ash and Tod almost hear that, they grin happily turning around and getting ready to go grab some merchandise from outside the ring, but just then...

“BEEEEEEEEEP!”

Stevens: What now?

Riley: It’s an Ultimate Submissions Match! So says Stubby!

Ash and Tod turn back around, ready to quickly force each other into submission, buuuuuuut...

“BEEEEEEEP!”

Riley: No wait, a Old School Brawl! Only fists can be used!

Ash sighs as he hears it, but suddenly, Tod begins to pound into Ash with closed right fists, taking it to the Poke Freak hard as he forces him back.

Riley: That’s the spirit, Tod!

At the same time, the crowd boos while Tom Flesher pulls a recliner down the ramp, plopping himself in it at the bottom, Clan robe still on as he enjoys the match.

Riley: Why does he wear that bath robe? And those pink combat boots! They clash with the black!

Stevens: Bobby, your ghey.

Riley: Damn n00b.

The Clannie watches in enjoyment, but then...

“Rollercoaster, of loooooooooooove...”

“Love Rollercoaster” kicks up and an engine vrooms as the Carnies, riding in the Love Rollercoaster, crash through the back of the entryway and haul ass down the ramp. But wait... who’s that fuzzy guy driving the damn thing?

Stevens: Who is driving? OH MY GOD! BEAR IS DRIVING! HOW CAN THIS BE?

Riley: Didn’t TNT use this on Storm?

Bear stops the cart inches from the ramp as the Carnies, all three of them, step out of the vehicle. Johnny Rotten wheels himself down in a electric wheelchair, but sadly, the damn thing catches on fire and he does too and he runs around screaming in agonizing pain before falling off the stage and hitting the floor with a “SPLAT!” And no one cares.

Riley: Ouchies. That had to hurt the groin.

Stevens: HE HAD TO HAVE FALLEN 1 BILLION FEET!

Riley: I WANT MY MOMMY!

The Carnies watch in awe as Ash pulls a sparkler out of his shoe, and a strike anywhere match from the other. He lights the damn thing on fire, and it sparkles.

Everyone: Oooooooooooohhhh.... aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh...

“BOOM!” A huge explosion goes off on stage, and then, Creative Control runs down the ramp! Ash is startled by this, and he throws the sparkler, which hits the ropes, bounces off, and flies into JD’s face, burning his face. JD screams in agony as Lerrin eats a hamburger.

Stevens: OH MAH GAWD! JAY DAWG’S FACE COULD BE BURNT OFF!

Riley: WOO-HOO!

Suddenly, “Figure 8” by Trust Company hits, and XF9 runs down the ramp. JD turns around and gets kicked in the crotch by Annie Eclectic! LDP and Edwin hug! Renegade accidentally pours gasoline on Johnny Rotten! And Erek Taylor isn’t even there!

Stevens: LOOK! XF9 is here!

All the ladies lick Ash, including Misty, Molly, Annie, Sarah, Sydney, and JD’s mom, but Ash kicks JD’s mom in the head! w00t!

Riley: Here comes Low Brass! He’s doing the Low Brass Dance!

And then, as Low Brass dances, “Living In America” kicks up.

Stevens: BAH GAWD! VLAD DE BURROV! HE IS HERE, TOO! WHERE’D HE COME FROM?

“BOOM!” Eddy Long spontaneously combusts into a pile of ashes! King gets grabbed by Vlad and thrown into the crowd, disappearing forever with a “POOF!”

“BEEEEEEEEP!”

Riley: A Lights Out Match?

The lights in the arena all go out, and chaos ensues!

Stevens: I CAN’T SEE A DAMN THING!

Riley: What’s going on?

Stevens: I dunno? Where are my spectrovision goggles?

Riley: Up yours, bitch!

“BEEEEEEEEP!”

Stevens: I can’t read it-wait-A BRA AND PANTIES MATCH?

The lights come back on. Outside the ring many people stand, but then, one man comes walking down the ramp as Tod and Ash exchange blows in the ring, both men wearing a bra and matching panty... but then...

Cutthroat: Cutthroat!

Riley: Cutthroat’s out here! LET’S KILL HIM!

Just then, a bunch of people come running down the ramp and into the ring.

Stevens: EVERYONE IN THE JL IS OUT HERE!

And quickly, Cutthroat is handcuffed into the corner, where everyone takes turns kicking him in the balls.

---Three Hours And Seventeen Minutes Later...---

Stevens: And the fun still continues!

As this happens, a fan throws Ash Ketchum a clamp. He grabs JD and quickly, inserts the clamp over JD’s balls and begins to tighten it. JD’s pants begin to depress as he cries out in pain, but then it keeps going in farther, and farther, and farther...

Stevens: Ewwww! That’s gross! And it’s turning him on!

Riley: Where’s Thoth?

On the Smarktron appears Thoth nude, his you-know-what in plain view as he comes out of the shower.

Everyone: EWWWWWWW!

Thoth looks down.

Thoth: OH MY GOD! JESUS CHRIST! I'M SO EMBARRASSED!

And Tom Flesher gets the god damn spot he wanted.

PikaPal13X (12:41:50 PM): BTW, is there anything you'd like to see in it? Run-ins from old favorites? Me giving Scott Stapp of Creed a chair shot to the head?

TomIofIV (12:42:13 PM): If you could work in an ambiguous reference to Thoth's dick, that'd be great.

PikaPal13X (12:42:22 PM): OK happy.gif

PikaPal13X (12:42:27 PM): Riley can do that

TomIofIV (12:42:47 PM): If possible, could you have it accidentally come up on the SmarkTron, and have everyone just act totally disgusted....

PikaPal13X (12:42:56 PM): Yes

TomIofIV (12:43:09 PM): and then have Thoth look down and go "OH MY GOD! JESUS CHRIST! I'M SO EMBARRASSED!" and run away

TomIofIV (12:43:24 PM): I know it sounds contrived, but trust me on this one.

HAPPY TOM? ARE YOU HAPPY, DAMMIT? MY CAPS LOCK IS NOW STUCK. PLEASE HELP ME. OHSHIT,MYSPACEBARJUSTBROKEANDICAN’TSPACEANYTHINGDAMMIT,THEREGOESTHEPERIODKEYTHIS

SUCKS

FOX NEWS ALERT!

Quickly, we head to New York, where Bill O’Reilly sits there behind the desk for some reason. Everyone must be sick or something.

Bill: Hello, I’m Bill O’Reilly, and this is a Fox News Alert. Michael Jackson just has said he has Jay Dawg disease and his penis will shrink into nothing. More at 10.

Back to the action:

Stevens: You’ve just missed run-in’s by Spark, Divefire, Axis, Zio, Mr. Galatea, and Neilsen of the Jungle, all who are now joining in on the nut kicking of Cutthroat!

Riley: Ash hits a forearm smash on Tod deKindes!

Fan in the crowd: HIGH SPOT!

Someone in the audience then throws a dalmatian smoking a joint into the ring. How cuuuuuuuuuute!

Riley: DOOBIE SNACKS! DOOBIE SNACKS!

JD then grabs the joint out of the dog’s mouth and smokes it as the clamp tightens further into his pants, leaving a three or four inch depression in his pants.

Stevens: They’re sweeping away Eddy Long’s remains, and here comes the new ref!

kidcoasl: i aer the spescial guest refree!

crowdz: yay kidcoaslwe lov eyou!@

The dog takes off its mask...

IT'S THE ELK!!!

The Elk spears Rotten!

1!2!3!!

Celine Dion: Yes, I zee that.

Stevens: Where’s Bobby?

Celine: I do not know. I am French-Canadian!

kidcoasl: Im gunna eet you hawt dowg.

hot dawg: no kidcaols don eet me.

kidcoasl: shuddup im eet you.

Riley: GET OUT OF MY SEAT, BITCH!

Lucky falls from the sky crushing Laseer Lamont and any other newbie who bitched and left...

Migdet rns in with a chair,, and beats Pyscho Frek senseless he run up the aile gets ladder hits a fRog splash on Freak and pins...

ONE!

TWO!

THREE

kidcoasl: Yor winnre is Midget!

crowdz: yay for midgeT!

kidcoasl: i is cool!

Chris Wilson pulls a lever - the ring explodes

Wilson: MWAHAHAHAHAHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Lucky comes back to life and gets speared by the elk

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

And then Chris Raynor-

...

Well, he just kinda sits there. And ELM sits on Flesher’s lap while eating popcorn as Tod hits Ash with the Sara Sequence and Ash hits Tod with the Mew Driver. Both men stand up, stare each other down intensely, and fall over screaming in agony.

Stevens: Painful!

Just then, a go-kart pulls up on stage and vrooms, speeding down the ramp, launching over the ring and crashing into the announcers’ table. The helmeted man dusts himself off and pulls off his helmet.

Stevens: NTD?

NTD: YOU STOLE MY DAMN JOB!

Riley: For God sakes, dude, put some pants on!

Chicken: CLUCK CLUCK KABOOM!

Riley: DAMMIT! NOT YOU AGAIN!

Somewhere in outer space, a satellite shouts: "Thoth equals megawussy.”

Somewhere on Earth, Thoth shouts back to the satellite, "No I'm not!"

G0R0 IS HERE! G0R0 IS BEINGS LOOKINGS ON HJIS FOOT!1!!1

OMGODZ!!1! GOR0 IS BEINGS STEPPINGS IN MACFIST0!11!!!1!

I IS BEUINGS SO SORRI-

The satellite falls on G0R0.

Satellite: "Ooh, what a predica--"

A manatee lands on the satellite and balances on G0R0's head!!

GORO AND MANATEE ARE BEIGNS MAKINGZ STALLEITE SANDWITCH!$(*^$()!*$(*$!!!

SANDWITCH: I’M ON A BROOMSTICK

ELK spears the Sandwich!

1-2-3!

G0R0: OMGODZ!11!1!!!1!1 ELK IS BEINGS THE GRATEST TEKNIKALS WRESTLR!1!11!

Manatee: Rrrrmmfff...

Satellite: Thoth is a megawussy!

And that ends our fun from the old Community Promo Thoth started. Back in the ring:

“BEEEEEEEEEEP!”

Riley: Now, it’s a Pepsi Max Machine match!

Scott Stapp from Creed runs into the ring as Ash Ketchum lifts a steel chair over his head, ready to hit Tod, but-”CLANK!”- he purposely hits Scott in the head, knocking him out! AND EVERYONE LOVES ASH FOR IT!

Everyone: YAYYYYY!

SWF employees wheel a Pepsi Max Machine down and into to the ring for the match as a popcorn machine makes popcorn in the background for da fans! Elk spears the popcorn machine! Hot, buttery kernels go everywhere, especially into the eyes of Jay Dawg fans!

1-2-3! ELK WINS AGAIN!

Stevens: ELK IS UNSTOPPABLE!

Meanwhile, Scott Stapp gets up, just as the world’s greatest bass guitarist, Flea, jumps through the crowd, wearing only one sock over his crotch, slides into the ring, and smashes his guitar over Scott’s head as the Pepsi Max Machine door opens up and Ash and Tod brawl again, right toward the machine. Tod tries to shove Ash in, but Ash pops out! Tod tries it again, but Ash pops out again before he can close the door! Tod slams da door shut in anger, and as he opens it again:

Riley: IT’S CYCLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE COMET!

The Pepsi Max Machine quickly morphs into the The Pepsi MAXimorphing Cyclone Comet Mobile!

Comet: Remember, Justice has a new name, a new face, and WILL NEVER, EVER DIE! And it’s name is CYCLOOOOOOOOOOOONE COMET!

And Cyclone speeds off.

Stevens: Wow, that was great!

With that, chaos breaks loose. Spike Jenkins gets hit by a platypus, Fallout and Sarah play strip poker, GOdrea comes out and starts kissing Ash, too, Fake Thugg runs down the ramp, but it’s just Charles Barkley, Patrick Ewing hits the game-winning shot, and Z hits Sacred with a salmon, knocking him down to the ground, but he sits back up...

Sacred: NO ONE EXPECTS SACRED’S INQUISITION!

... and passes out again.

Mothernature goes on about some damn thing and... hmmm... lost my train of thought here... um... well...

“BEEEEEEEEEEP!”

Stevens: What does Stubby say now?

Riley: Pallet Town Duel?

On cue, Poke Balls rain down from the ceiling, flooding the ring. Ash grabs one quickly.

Ash: I CHOOSE YOU!

Ash throws it, nailing Bobby Riley in the head, and as it opens...

Stevens: CHRISTOPHER WALKEN?!?!?!

Yes. It’s Christopher Walken. He runs back into the ring as both Ash and Tod get up, but he runs toward Ash and leaps into the air, Ketchum grabbing Chris by the legs.

Riley: Could it be?

Fatboy Slim’s “Weapon of Choice” plays as Ash swings Chris around sending many people flying away!

Stevens: IT’S THE CHRISTOPHER WALKEN SWING OF DOOM! Yes!

Meanwhile, Chris Wilson walks down the ramp, but Vlad powerbombs him!

Riley: That’s not Chris Wilson! It’s his good brother Eric! Where is Chris Wilson?

Suddenly, the Batman theme hits as the lights go out. Standing in the rafters is Chris Wilson, strapped to a harness, like Sting. He jumps off, and “flies” through the air above everyone, laughing.

Wilson: CATCH ME IF YOU CAN! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA-

“THUD!” Wilson slams into the Smarktron, but he eventually lowers himself down, removes his harness, and falls over in pain.

Wilson: Ow....

“BEEEEEEEEEEP!”

Stevens: What the hell is a Red Button match!

A box with a red button in it is thrown into the ring. Both competiors stare at it as Ash picks it up.

Tod: O_O?

Ash: Oooooooooohhh... what does this button do? *press*

*******************

Outside the arena, JD and Cutthorat walk, when suddenly, a mobile home falls on both men, leaving only their feet visible, which quickly curl up. Little folk, midgets as you may call them, suddenly, pop out from every place, going to inspect the scene.

Midget #1: Are they?

Midget #2: Are they really?

Head Midget: I believe so.

All Midgets(singing): Ding dong, the bitch is dead! The bitch is dead, the bitch is dead! Dong dong, the fuckin; bitch is dead!

JD(from under the house): Aw, I ain’t dead! It landed on that jobber!

Three small midgets walk up to JD with a big bag of Blow Pops.

Midgets: Oh, we represent, the Lollipop Guild-

JD: I don’t want your fuckin’ lollipops, bitch!

The midgets suddenly jump JD and beat him down.

*******************

Back in the ring:

“BEEEEEEEEEEP!”

Riley: Stubby decrees a dance-off!

Quickly, funky music hits and Ash Ketchum busts into the Low Brass Dance, the crowd electrified by the most electrifying move in sports entertainment! HUZZAH!

Stevens: GO ASH, GO!

Tod finally snaps, quickly shuffling his feet and superkicking Ash in the head! Ketchum falls down, but gets back up, staggering back into the corner as Tod charges after him, spearing him in the corner! Ash cries out in pain, but Tod hooks Ash’s arms, lifintg him up and dropping back as Tod executes a double underhook belly-to-belly suplex!

“BEEEEEEEEEP!”

Stevens: We have to show the end of the Bourbon Brawl now. Great:

******************

They walk into the tomb and sure enough, Salma is standing there in her cage in maroon colored bra and panties. But even better, she is surrounded by FLAMING TABLES, both JD’s and Molock’s jaws drop at the sight of the tables. In less then a second both Dawg and Molock run on top of the cage, quickly Dawg drives his foot into the stomach of Molock. JD grabs the larger man’s head and pulls it off the tomb with him, STUNNER THROUGH THE FLAMING TABLE by Jay Dawg. Both Dawg and Molock hop up as there asses are beginning to burn.

>Molock: Dude! That was so fun! I’m putting you through this time!

>JD: Ok. But no wedgies.

>Molock: Yeah yeah.

Both men climb to the top of the cage that Salma is in and Molock pulls JD into a Standing Headscissors for the second time of the night. He proceeds to lift Dawg up then leaps off the cage and SIT DOWN POWERBOMBS JD THROUGH THE FLAMING TABLES!!! They lie there for a second but soon hop then drop and roll to put out the flames again. Salma is shown in the cage wondering what they are doing then all of a sudden…

…MIDNIGHT STRIKES!!!

Salma is shown doing the changes as her teeth come out and hair turns into a rats nest. JD and Molock gulp as the once Mexican Hotty has now turned into the Vampire Queen Santanico Pandimonium. She does not look to happy.

>Santanico: YOU FOOLS!!! YOU DECIDED TO PUT PEOPLE THROUGH TABLES!!! YOUR NUTS ARE MINE!!!

>JD: Uh…She’s all yours Molock.

>Molock: Umm..No thanks. You can have her.

>JD: F*CK THAT! I think I entered the wrong room

>Molock: I agree. Let’s leave. See yeah evil broad.

The vampire queen shows super human strength and rip opens her cage. Both JD and Molock look at each other then look at the door. Instantly they run and exit the tomb, both going about 90 miles per hour on pure fear as they want to protect there genitals. The Vampire Queen soon stops as she is no match for the speed of cowards, and heads back towards her tomb.

>JD: CRAZY BITCH!!! SHE AIN’T TOUCHING MY NUTS!!! I’m getting the hell out of this town!

>Molock: I’m two steps ahead of you there!

The camera switches back to by the tomb area and shows Santanico walking back to the tomb. All of a sudden Neilson appears again as he has not stopped looking for JD.

>Neilson: Hey funny looking broad! Have you seen a scared little sh*t at all?

>Santanico: I will in a second. YOUR NUTS ARE MINE!!!

>Neilson: Are you insane!?

Santanico runs after Neilson and tackles the King of the Jungle. Quickly she takes her hand out and drives it *CLING* into Neilson’s nuts, but quickly pulls it away as she has just hurt her hand. Neilson pulls up his shirt to reveal the crotch gun. *BANG* a bullet goes through the vampire queen’s head.

>NotJ: Robbing people on streets is cool. Damn bitch! Last time she f*cks with the King of the MotherF*cking Jungle!

The bullet hole in her head goes away and she raises again.

>NotJ: Oh! You want some more!

Neilson charges at her *POW* Santanico flies fifty feet. Neilson chages and leaps right on top of her. *BAM* *WHAM*

>Santanico: OWWWWW!!! AHHHHHH!!!!

The scream is heard by the gate where everyone is at. JD and Molock look back.

>JD: She must have met Neilson…

>Molock: Yep.

>All: She’s dead

********************

Stevens: Well, we missed a backdrop driver from Tod. That’s it.

Riley: Good God. That was a stupid match.

Quickly, as Ash gets to his feet after the backdrop, Tod steps behind Ash, grabbing him and forcing him to bend over. He moves quickly, locking him in position for a pumphandle hold, but lifts him into the air for a pumphandle drop, but then, he flips him onto his shoulder for a pumphandle slam, setting up the Spirit Breaker! Ash, though, shifts his weight, causing both men to fall back while Ash grabs Tod’s head and reverse DDT’s him into the mat!

Stevens: REVERSE DDT! WHAT A MOVE!

Tod remains down as Ash climbs to the top rope, turning around as he reaches the top. He has been beaten to Hell and back, but one last move may end this massacre. And with that, he makes his split-finger “V” sign and leaps form the top rope in obvious pain. He spins in the air, flying into a Shooting Star Press, but just as it looks like his chest is about to hit Tod’s, he pulls his body around an additional 30 degrees, slamming his knees into Tod’s chest with a Shooting Star Knee Drop! The sheer force of the move knocks him forward onto Tod’s body, covering his chest as he subconsciously pins Tod to the mat!

Stevens: POKE BALL, GO! THE FINISHING MOVE FROM ASH KETCHUM HAS BEEN EXECUTED! HERE’S THE COUNT!

One...

Two...

THREE!!!

DING DING DING! ASH WINS AND THE CROWD GOES WILD!

kidcoasl: Yor winnre is Ahs Kechem!

Funyon: Your winner... ASH KETCHUMMMMMMMMM!!!!

kidcoasl: dats wat i sad

Ash helps Tod get to his feet. Both men stare each other down for a sec, then shake hands and smile. As that happens, everyone in the SWF and JL, even Cutthroat, and all the fans in the arena, gather around the ring, hands on each others shoulders, and sway back and forth, singing:

There comes a time, when we hear a certain call

When the world must come together as one

There are people dying

And it's time to lend a hand to life

The greatest gift of all

We can't go on pretending day by day

That someone, somewhere will soon make change

We are all a part of God's great big family

And the truth you know

Love is all we need

Chorus:

We are the world, we are the children

We are the ones who make a brighter day

So let's start giving

There's a choice we're making

We're saving our own lives

It's true we'll make a better day, just you and me

Send them your heart so they'll know that someone cares

And their lives will be stronger and free.

As God has shown us by turning stones to bread

And so we all must lend a helping hand

When you're down and out, there seems no hope at all

But if you believe there's no way we can fall

Let us realize that a change can only come

When we stand together as one

Stevens: *sniff* How touching...

But then, dance music breaks out and everyone parties! BIG AMERICAN DANCE PARTY! EVERYONE HAVING FUN!

Riley: I wonder how Stubbs is feeling right now...

Cut to the commissioner’s office, where we can hear Stubbs on the toilet, an empty bottle of Ex-Lax and several brownies on his desk. The chair is turned around, watching the TV.

Riley: SOMEONE GAVE STUBBY EX-LAX BROWNIES! But if he’s been on the shitter the whole time, who’s been sending faxes?

The chair pivots around and we finally see the man who has been sending those damn faxes the whole night...

Thugg: Ain’t I a motherfuckin’ stinker?

August 20, 2002

"Downfall" hits the stage, ever so familiar to the crowds as they rise to their feets, buzzing with excitement as the pyros and fireworks blinds the arena. Before long, smoke begins to shroud the entrance area before a figure cuts through, revealing to be Erek Taylor himself!

"What? I thought he was in jail!" Grand Slam yells. "Why is he here?!"

"We knew he'd get out. It's always like that in the wrestling world. You get arrested, you get out two shows later. It's all politics."

Erek Taylor ventures down the ramp to the foot of the ring before sliding into the ring. Making sure that his mood is made clear, he ignores the cheers and goes straight to Funyon, where he snatches the veteran's microphone away. Bringing it up to his lips, Erek starts his speech:

"Okay, let's get down to business. Last Monday night, I woke up in a hospital bed finding three officers standing around my bed, waiting to arrest me. Now that's just great, isn't it? I tried to distract them with some donuts, but unfortunately, they just ate a batch before I woke up. So they take me downtown, get me filled out, do that picture thingy, and lock me up. I haven't had a Monday night that ever resembled a Friday night."

"Anyways, I'm getting off track. There's one overgrown man back in the locker room who knows exactly what he did. You people know what happened, everyone knows what happened. I didn't take it. So, without further adieu, let's bring out the Boston Strangler."

Boos thunder across the stage, but there is no sign of the Boston Strangler. No sign, none at all. The only thing that's actually showing signs of life is the Smarkstron, but it's just static.....

....

....static that finally reveals the face of the Boston Strangler! The behemoth's face wakes up the crowds, who eagerly chant "SISSY! SISSY!" as Strangler speaks:

"My my, Erek, out so soon?"

"Cut the crap, Strangler. You're not impressing anyone. We know you're trying to be Chris Wilson, but let's face it, a 6'10 guy wearing a black dress isn't going to scare me. All you're doing is making an ass of yourself but hey, who am I to stop you? You hear the crowds? You hear what they're saying? It's 'sissy'. It means you're a coward, a bitch, a whore, one who doesn't fight but acts like he can."

"Shut the f*ck up, you little punk. I can kill you right here, right now if I wanted t-"

"If you can, then why hide behind the curtains with the camera in front of your ugly face? Why not step out on stage and face me? You have been begging for a rematch, but no, no, I'm not going to give it to you. No, I'm going to challenge YOU to a match."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, I'm tired of this. I'm tired of being involved with you and your pathetic attempts at playing mindgames. You see, in jail before my pals bailed me out, I was thinking of the best and most humiliating way to repay you for all the troubles you put me through. I was thinking, what would scare the Boston Strangler so much, it would make him piss in his pants and make him cry mommy? Then, I thought of....

Streetfight Numero Dos....."

The crowds pop at the mention of the infamous match... but they quickly faint as Erek continues on....

"No, Streetfight isn't enough. Then I thought, how about a Cage match? Then I scrapped that idea because it reminded you too much of your home..... so then, I came to the conclusion where the sky is the limit."

"What are you saying?"

"At Apocalypse, it will be Erek Taylor and the Boston Strangler, one more time, with much higher stakes, and it will be in a simple yet painful....

......

Ladder Match!"

The crowds are in shock as that ever so popular match is brought back to life once more.

"Yes, Strangler, it's a Ladder Match. But not any normal ladder match is at hand. Hanging from the top, it will be an envelope. Sure, it may be a simple envelope but don't let your peanut-sized brain go buzzing, Strangler. In the envelope it will be a slip.....

a pink slip.....

....so how bout it, Strangler? You MAN enough?"

The crowds pause and pause as the behemoth ponders for a moment...

"At Apocalypse, I will be indeed the happiest man in the world because I get to fire you from this business. It's on, Erek."

"WHOA!" exclaims Stevens, "Ladder Match, with the fate of Erek Taylor and the Boston Strangler's careers on the line!!! APOCALYPSE!!!"

Erek smiles as the crowds thunders once more. He takes a quickly look around before continuing:

"Good. But I won't make any pissy no M7 rule. You go ahead and bring your six other guys who were called "Most likely to be gay" on their high school yearbooks and you walk them out on the ramp. I don't care how many, I don't care how big, I don't care how quick, I will beat you, your group of pansies, and your mommas for all I care! Strangler, it's time to see what you're really made of. I'll see you Sunday."

Without any further comments, Erek slides out and ascends up the ramp, with Strangler's face pasted on the Smarkstron, always eyeing the High Flying Prince as he disappears into the back.

August 20, 2002

The ending of the Tod deKindes/Ash Ketchum match kicks off, showing replays, as the show returns once more to the Missouri crowd. It heads backstage, to the equipment crew. Jay Dawg is looking at the security tapes for the parking lot, trying to catch even a glimpse of who totaled his truck.

Jamie: “Dammit! I want to know who did it!”

The techies desperately try to plead to JD, that their job isn’t to watch the parknig lot, and no camera footage can be shown to him. Suddenly, the door opens, JD turns to see that it’s Perfect Bo. He glares at the perfect one, who returns with a sharp look of his own.

Bo: “Jay Dawg. You have to see this.”

JD finally gives up on the tech crews, letting them exhale in relief. JD walks toward Bo, not even having to say it, because he knows if Bo wants him to see it, it is serious. Bo pushes the door open, and to Jay Dawg’s shock… is a table… a table full of blunts and forties! JD stares at the table, questioning as his eyes widen. Bo takes a step back as JD lunges forward. He lifts his leg up high in the air… “ARRRRRRGHHHHH!!!” and smashes it down with an axe kick through the table! The table splits in two, leaving the booze and weed to crash to the floor. JD grabs two of the alcohol bottles, throwing one at the nearby wall…

SMASH!!

Opens the cap of the other one… takes a swig… then throws it at the wall as well!

Jamie: “Motherfucker! It’s time for us to see this shit, dude!”

JD and Bo step out of the room. JD turns to Bo, lifting his finger to his chest.

Jamie: “This doesn’t need to be said. But, tonight, we are going to beat the fuck out of the X-Force-9! You got it!? You will take on Pete, one on one, and it will be deadly. Tonight will be the prelude to the Pay Per View. You got it?”

Bo: “You’re right JD. You ain’t gotta tell me dis shit. I already know!”

They walk down the hall, turning back into the locker room. Inside the room, is a shadow. JD worries for a second, until he see Sacred and Lerrin walking back to the room themselves, carrying some coffee. JD exhales in relief for a half-second and steps into the locker.

Jamie: “Stay here for a second. NO cameras.”

JD steps into the room, getting face to face with the shadow. The camera can be seen outside, catching a glimpse of the shadow themselves. Bo and Sacred stand puzzled, as Lerrin wonders what is worrying them.

Jamie: “Ah good, it is you. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Voice: “I know.”

Jamie: “Heh heh. The boys are asking about you.”

Voice: “So bring them in. I would like to see some of my old competitors.”

Jamie doesn’t even have to call, as Sacred, Bo, and Lerrin all enter the room. From the outside, the camera can see the jaws drop on both Sacred and Bo. Lerrin looks on in confusion, wondering himself.

Stevens: “Who are they talking to!?”

Riley: “Your mum! Massive gangbang!”

Lerrin’s face can clear be seen saying out loud, who the hell is that. JD can be heard chuckling, turning to his larger buddy.

Jamie: “In time, my friend. Creative Control at the Pay Per View won’t be taking this to another level… We are starting a brand new game!”

The crowd can be heard booing that last statement as Bo, Sacred and Lerrin all exit the room. The camera catches a glimpse of Bo, the man, who shows less emotion then anyone, is standing in disbelief. Sacred shaking his head, as Lerrin tries to find out who it was. Bo turns to Sacred.

Bo: “Yo man… I thought he wasn’t coming back.”

Sacred nods his head in worry, as the three walk away…

Stevens: “Whatever this is, it’s not going to be good! Z and Silent are in a cage match, next!”

Cut to commercial for Apocalypse.

August 20, 2002

The camera focuses ominously on the fifteen-foot tall steel cage that surrounds the ring as the relentlessly cheery sounds of Faith No More’s “Epic” begin to blast their way into the Kemper Arena. “Welcome back to SWF Smarkdown, ladies and gentlemen!” yells Mark Stevens over the cheers of the Missouri crowd as the one-letter wonder, Z, emerges from the backstage area into the single spotlight at the top of the entrance ramp. The blue-haired Carnie shuffles his way down the ramp, a rather uncomfortable-looking smile on his face, as Funyon announces his entrance…

“Ladies and gentlemen, the following match will be a cage match! Pinfalls, submissions, knockouts, and disqualifications do not count; the only way to win the match is by climbing over the cage and putting both feet on the floor before your opponent! Introducing first, he hails from Trenton, New Jersey, and weighs in at two hundred and twenty-nine pounds…he is representing the Midnight Carnival….ZEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

Alex Zenon bounces up the steel steps at ringside to the door of the cage. Before he enters, he does a quick pirouette on his heel, bangs off his trademark salute to the crowd, and steps through the ropes, into the cage. He walks briskly to the opposite corner, stopping in the center of the ring to bang off another pirouette and salute to a tremendous pop from the crowd, and curls up in the corner, waiting on the arrival of the Slaughterer.

“This match was signed just after Storm, when Z took it upon himself to challenge the Silent One to a cage match by…by…Lord, I hesitate to say it…”

”I’ll say it, Bobbi. He spray painted Silent’s Diablo.”

”God, what an idiot. He’ll get what’s coming to him, though, once Silent gets out here…”

The arena’s lights are abruptly cut off, and the spotlights near the entrance ramp begin to flicker rapidly as Front Line Assembly’s “Retribution (Front 242 Remix)” begins pulsing through the sound system. The Kansas City fans boo resoundingly as white fog begins to billow out from behind the curtain at the top of the ramp, and the Chinese character for “Retribution” flashes on the Smarkstron, towering over the steel cage that surrounds the ring…

“Introducing second, he hails from Phoenix, Arizona, and weighs in at two hundred and forty-eight pounds…he is representing the Clan…SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILENT!”

”Retribution” hits a particularly screeching pitch as the Silent One enters through the fog, cane in his right hand, trenchcoat billowing behind him, pulling wisps of white fog along with it. The Slaughterer makes his way –slowly- to ringside, eying the steel cage surrounding his opponent with an uncharacteristic glee. Silent removes his coat and hands it, along with his cane, to Eddy Long at ringside before climbing the steps to the door of the cage. The Clansman stares at Z, who rises to his feet at the sight of his opponent, for a long moment…and steps through the ropes.

**DING DING**

”And here we go!” shouts ‘Grand Slam’, as Eddy Long closes the door behind Silent. The referee locks the door with a feeble *click* as the Slaughterer leisurely walks to the center of the ring. Z grabs hold of the ropes with nervous anticipation…he looks at Silent, then at the cage…Silent, then the cage…Silent…cage…Silent…cage….

…

Z turns his back on the Silent One and begins scrambling up the side of the cage!

“Z’s trying to end this match early on!” says Stevens, doing his best to suppress a rather unprofessional giggle.

“Mark, tell me you aren’t serious. Z’s frickin’ scared of Silent, and with a good reason, too! Did you SEE what happened to the Diablo before Storm?”

”I did, Bobbi…heh…it’s a terrible…heh heh….thing to see…”

The Kemper Arena is evenly divided between laughter and cheers as the blue-haired one frantically claws his way up the steel as Silent charges towards him…only to be stopped by a ferocious forearm shot to his exposed back! Silent hammers away on his Carnie opponent, driving forearm after forearm into Z’s ribs, bringing him down from the side of cage. A particularly hard shot causes Z to fall awkwardly into a sitting position, landing BUTT-first on the ropes, his legs dangling between the apron and the cage.

An aggravated Silent One attempts to pull Z from the ropes, but the one-letter wonder latches onto the cage with a Greco-Roman White-Knuckle Grip, yelling various colorful phrases as Silent hammers away on his back and ribs once again. The ring mics pick up snatches of the conversation between the two men…

“Urgh…get…off…of there…and take…what’s coming…to you, boy!”

“Ow, ow! No! OW! CHEQUE, PLEASE!”

Silent releases his grip on Z’s waist…and swings around Z’s head with his left arm, CLOCKING the Carnie across the face with a vicious crossface shot! Stunned, Zenon releases the ropes…and the Slaughterer launches him backwards with a TREMENDOUSLY elevated German Suplex, dropping the one-letter wonder square on his neck in the center of the ring! A chorus of boos rings out from the front row as Silent approaches the motionless Z….

“Good God! Z’s attempt at an early escape seems to have backfired tremendously!” hollers Mark as the Slaughterer stops away at his opponent’s head and back. “Taking such a devastating shot to the head this early in the match can’t bode well for the eventual outcome!”

Silent grabs hold of Z’s right arm, places it between his legs, and rolls forward, forcing Z to roll with him towards the ropes, and slams the Carnie into the mat, applying an armbar at the same time! Z grasps at the bottom rope, and Eddy Long begins yelling at the Slaughterer from outside the cage door, but Silent only smiles at the referee, and pulls back even harder on the armbar.

“Sound strategy by Silent,” notes Riley. “If Z can’t use his right arm, he can’t scamper up the cage quite as fast.”

Stevens looks a little confused by Riley’s use of the word ‘scamper’ as Silent wrenches back on Z’s right arm, drawing a howl of pain from the one-letter wonder as he claws at the ropes in vain. Seeing that Z is still very much conscious of both the pain and his surroundings, the Clansman stands up and drags Z away from the ropes, keeping hold of his right arm as he does so. Silent gives his opponent’s arm a sharp pull, forcing him to roll onto his stomach to relieve the pressure, and applies a hammerlock to keep the blue-haired one face-down on the mat.

Silent begins to carefully, methodically drive his knee into Z’s shoulder once…twice…three…four times, eliciting a yelp from the Carnie with each strike. Silent releases the hammerlock and stands…backs up to the ropes…and crushes Z’s right shoulder with a running knee drop!

“Silent’s in control very early in this match…if he can dictate the pace, as he’s so fond of doing, this could get very messy, very soon for Z…”

Z clutches at his shoulder, trying to block out the pain, but Silent grabs a handful of the Carnie’s electric-blue hair and pulls him to his feet. The Silent One connects with two quick forearm shots to the face before taking hold of Z’s right arm and twisting his entire body to the right, taking Zenon to the canvas with an Arm Dragon Screw.

“Another knee drop to Z’s right shoulder….and another…and another…Jesus, Riley, this is going to be a massacre! Silent could win this match at any time with the condition Z is in…why doesn’t he just start climbing the damn cage already?”

“I told you, Mark, Silent’s coming into this match to punish Z. He gave this kid a way out of their first match, he didn’t take it, and nearly got killed…oh, nice one,” whistles Riley as Silent drives Z’s head into the mat with a hammerlock DDT. “Anyway, Z didn’t learn his lesson the first time around, and he…did…something…terrible to Silent’s Diablo. He’s not getting out of this match without a little bit of pain and suffering, I think.”

Riley chuckles to himself as he contemplates how much pain and suffering Silent has already inflicted on the young Carnie, who lies in the center of the ring, holding his right shoulder and wondering if the “I <3 Midnight Carnival” decal was a little bit too much. Silent interrupts his opponent’s musing with a quick leg drop to the back of the neck, leaving Z unsure which body part he should cradle in pain first. Satisfied with the condition of his opponent’s shoulder, Silent picks Z up from the mat by the hair, grabs hold of his right arm and twists it sharply, and whips him across the ring. Z comes bounding back towards the Slaughterer, who waits patiently to deliver a potent spinebuster to his opponent…

…And Z connects with a wild Arm Grenade with his left arm, knocking Silent back into the cage! The Clansman’s back connects with the steel with a resounding CLANG!, and the Kansas City crowd suddenly comes alive for the littlest Carnie! Z whips Silent across the ring this time, –wincing a little as he does so- and, as the Slaughterer comes sprinting back, murder in his eyes, Z connects with a running, LEAPING variation of the Arm Grenade! Silent crashes to the canvas, and Z scrambles to his feet, scurrying up the cage as the Silent One rolls forward from a prone position…and misses Z’s ankle by the merest of inches!

“Z with a pair of Arm Grenades out of nowhere, and it looks like he might make it out of the cage tonight with his hide intact!” bellows Mark, as Z continues to climb and Silent groggily gets to his feet…

…But his right arm gives out inches from the top! Z clutches at it with his left hand instinctively, doing his best to tough it out and continue his slow ascent…

Before realizing he just.

Let go.

Of the cage.

Whoops.

Z falls swiftly towards the canvas as cameras flash throughout the Kemper Arena, capturing his fall on film just as Silent makes it to the cage…and looks up. Z turns himself around on the way down, ostensibly to get better acquainted with the oncoming canvas, but instead meets the surprised face of Silent!

“Cross-body block from the top of the cage!”

“Bullshit! He fell on him, that lucky little bastard!”

”It works out the same way in the end, Bobbi, and that’s what counts!”

The one-letter wonder and the quiet psychopath crash to the mat together in a heap, with Z just barely getting the better of the exchange. He staggers a little bit as he gets to his feet, but he steadies himself with the ropes. The one-letter wonder looks out at the crowd, then looks down at Silent, who is beginning to stir…Z bangs off one of his trademark salutes to the crowd, then hooks the Silent One’s arms and legs, a twinkle in his eyes…

“It’s the Nelbina, ladies and gentlemen! Z has the Nelbina hooked on Silent!” laughs Stevens, and the crowd laughs along with him as Z proceeds to pose Silent into submission, perched upon the Slaughterer’s back like a particularly annoying bird.

“Z’s gone too far this time!” yells Riley.

Z strikes another pose.

“He can’t afford to be showboating like this in the right with the Silent One!”

Z strikes a heroic pose.

“This is just making things worse for him, I know it!” screams Riley, spraying the announce table with flecks of spittle.

Z strikes a heroically stupid pose.

“Oh, shut up and let the kid have his fun, Bobbi!” snickers Mark as Z unties himself from Silent’s back. “It’s not every day you see Silent taking part in a joke, willingly or not!”

Z looks down at Silent in a puzzled fashion, who is rapidly regaining his senses and thinking increasingly violent thoughts, wondering how to follow up the Nelbina…and settles on the Reverse Chinlock of Eternal Pain and Endless Suffering! The audience is treated to another laugh as Silent, more annoyed than injured, is subjected to the ranting of Z while he’s caught in the Reverse Chinlock of etcetera, etcetera…

“TAP! TAP, YOU FOOL! NO MAN CAN WITHSTAND THE REVERSE CHINLOCK OF ETERNAL PAIN AND ENDLESS SUFFERING!” hollers the one-letter wonder, loud enough that he can clearly be heard over the cheers and shouts of the Kemper Arena. An aggravated Silent, sadly unfazed by Z’s devastating arsenal of submission maneuvers, responds by twisting to the right and rolling towards the center of the ring and out of the reverse chinlock. The Slaughterer rises to his feet, murder in his crystal-blue eyes…and he’s met with a dropkick from the littlest Carnie! Silent stumbles backwards…but does not fall.

“I think Z has made him angry now, Mark,” mutters Riley. Silent shakes his head slowly, as if to say, “No, not good enough,” to Z, who quickly backs up…

CRACK!

…And lunges forward with a superkick, catching Silent squarely in the jaw! “Blizzard of oZ!” yells Mark Stevens…but Silent simply holds his ground, unimpressed. “Hah!” cackles Riley. “It didn’t even faze him!”

The Clansman slowly cracks his neck and raises one hand, beckoning Z forward…the blue-haired one charges screaming at the Silent One, left arm outstretched for another Arm Grenade…

…Pulls up short, and drops the Slaughterer to the mat with a mighty kick to the nuts!

“Galatea Special from the Carnie, and Silent is down for the count!”

“Mark, we’ve talked about this before. There’s nothing special about the Galatea Special; he just kicked him in the jumblies!”

“Shut up, Bobbi!”

Z hops over Silent, who lies doubled over on the mat, and bounces onto the second turnbuckle. The one-letter wonder salutes the crowd to a rather large pop before leaping off the ropes and onto his opponent, driving an elbow into Silent’s chest. He hooks the leg of the Silent One, pinning his shoulders to the mat…and promptly slaps himself in the forehead as he realizes there are no pinfalls to be counted.

“A bit of a tactical error by your Carnie friend, Mark,” grins Riley as Z sheepishly smiles and gets to his feet.

“Bah, we all make mistakes, Riley. Remember that time you thought NTD was really a…”

”Shut up, Mark. Just shut up.”

“Besides, Bobbi,” says Grand Slam as Z drops an elbow on Silent…and another elbow, and another elbow, and another elbow. “Alex seems to be in control of this match at last!”

The blue-haired one pulls the Slaughterer to his feet and whips him across the ring, being sure this time to whip him with his LEFT arm…

“Z ducks a Roaring Elbow…Z ducks a Burning Lariat…Z ducks a second lariat…wait, reversal!”

As Silent swings his arm hard at Zenon’s head, the Carnie fluidly dodges and circles around behind his opponent! Z grabs an inverted facelock, bending Silent backwards, and drives him to the canvas with a powerful elbow shot!

“Turn ‘n Burn, a move popularized by former World champion Divefire, and adapted by Z!” Mark points out helpfully, and the one-letter wonder makes a run for the cage!

“The Carnie’s making a break for it!” spits Riley. “Afraid of the Silent One, just as I suspected.”

“If he’s so afraid of him, Riley, then why did he leave Silent laying on the mat?”

”He didn’t, Stevens. Take a look at your monitor, huh?”

Sure enough, back inside the cage, the Silent One is already on his feet! Silent angrily stalks over to where Z is climbing, one-handed, towards the top, grabs hold of both the Carnie’s ankles, and yanks him off of the cage! Silent lets go and steps to the left, out of the way, as the one-letter wonder falls crashing to the mat!

“Ow! He’s going to feel that one tomorrow morning,” notes Riley as Silent pulls Z to his feet…and SLAMS his face into the side of the cage, rocking the structure’s very foundations with the force of the blow! Z collapses into a camouflaged heap, and the audience lets loose a sympathetic groan as the Slaughterer pulls him up from the mat…and rams his face into the cage once again!

“Silent seems to have taken offense to Z’s Galatea Special earlier in the match, and he’s getting a measure of revenge for it, it seems!”

”Yeah, and maybe a measure of revenge for what Z did to his car on Storm, huh?”

”Riley, quit harping on the Diablo. Just because you drive a frickin’ Focus doesn’t mean you need to get all worked up over somebody else’s nicer car.”

”Hey, now…you leave my Focus alone…”

The camera cuts away from a defensive Bobby Riley to the ring, where the Silent One is grinding Z’s face harshly against the links of the steel cage. Silent pulls Z back from the cage by his hair, and the camera captures a shot of Z’s forehead gushing blood all over the ring as he falls to the canvas.

“Houston, we have a 0.7 Muta in the ring…”

”Riley, shut up.”

”Hee hee hee…come on, Mark, that one was funny.”

Silent hauls the bloodied Carnie to his feet, hooks a full-nelson, and heaves backwards, dropping Z on his head for the second time in the match! Silent pulls him up again…and hurls him backwards with another Dragon Suplex! The Slaughterer pulls his opponent up once more to complete his trademark Chasing The Dragon maneuver…and he sidesteps another Galatea Special from the blue-haired one before hurling him backwards onto his neck for a third and final time!

“Three Dragon Suplexes delivered with neck-breaking intensity from the Silent One!” Riley yells excitedly as Silent rises to his feet.

The Silent One sits on Z’s right shoulder, placing all his weight on the Carnie’s back, and pulls backwards on Z’s right arm, locking in a reverse armbar from a sitting position, preventing the one-letter wonder from rolling out of the hold. “Silent’s going right back to that right arm of Z’s!” notes Stevens. “An extremely sound strategy, given that it’s already kept Z from escaping once!”

Silent wretches back with both arms on Z’s right shoulder, drawing shouts of pain and general unhappiness from the blue-haired one, who claws at the canvas, trying his best to block out the pain. The Slaughterer bends Z’s wrist back with his left hand, applying pressure in yet another area of Z’s battered right arm, before releasing the hold.

Silent pulls Z to his feet and walks him into the center of the ring. The Silent One applies an arm wringer to the one-letter wonder’s right arm, gives it a harsh tug, and floors Z with a swift hook kick! Z crashes to the mat, sending a few drops of blood onto Silent’s pants leg as he does so. Silent begins kicking relentlessly at Z’s head and ribs, driving his blood-splattered boots into his opponent with a calculated fury as the boos and jeers of the Missouri crowd reach a new decibel level.

“Silent is just dominating Z right now!” giggles Riley. “Three Dragon Suplexes…if I wasn’t so into this match, I’d think we should call it off right about now!”

Z flails his limbs wildly, trying to get to his feet, but only manages to make it to one knee before Silent grabs a handful of wild blue hair again and yanks him the rest of the way upwards. The Clansman pulls Z’s right arm over his shoulder and pulls down hard, almost popping the Carnie’s arm right out of its socket. He repeats it once…twice…three times before spinning around, grabbing a hammerlock, and cinching Z up for a gutwrench suplex…

“The nerve of Silent!” spits Stevens.

“What?”

”That move he’s going for is called the Midnight Carnival. Z is in the Carnival. Think about it a little bit, Bobbi.”

”Oh…heh heh. I like it. I like it a lot.”

Mark Stevens sighs as Silent gets set to lift his smaller opponent up…Z grapevines Silent’s leg and blocks the suplex! Silent tries again…and Z blocks in the same fashion! Frustrated, the Silent One releases the hammerlock to pound on the one-letter wonder’s exposed back…and suddenly doubles over in pain as the littlest Carnie drives his knee directly into his opponent’s groin!

“Galatea Special, number two!”

”Mark, I told you about that.”

”And I told you to shut up, Bobbi!”

Silent doubles over, clutching his groin, but does not fall. Z stumbles out of the waistlock…grabs Silent’s left arm, throws his leg over Silent’s neck, and smashes the Clannite into the canvas with the Krazy Krash!

Z stumbles away from Silent, trying desperately to reach the cage and capitalize on his desperation counter, but Silent bounces back up from the mat, a bloody nose the only visible effect of the Krazy Krash!

The Slaughterer charges, looking for a Burning Lariat, but Z sidesteps Silent’s arm and cinches him up for a Russian Legsweep…Silent counters with an elbow to the side of Z’s head and hooks the Carnie’s leg, lifts him up, and slams him back down with a devastating Backflip Slam! Z bounces once as he hits the mat, and Silent stands…

Satisfied that the Silence Special will keep the Carnie down, Silent confidently heads towards the cage…as Z pushes himself up to his knees!

“Z’s getting up, Riley, and Silent doesn’t see him! The Silent One’s indifference to the crowd is about to bite him in the ass!”

”Turn around, Silent, TURN AROUND!”

But the Clansman is oblivious to Riley’s warning as he begins to climb the far side of the cage. Closer and closer the Silent One comes to the top, only a few feet away from victory…until something starts pulling at his left leg!

The crowd explodes as Z, wiping the blood from his eyes, pulls courageously on Silent’s leg like a small but very agitated dog from the turnbuckle! More annoyed than concerned, Silent absently tries to kick the littlest Carnie away from him so he can continue his climb to victory…

…And the Silent One overbalances…

…loses his grip on the steel cage…

…And falls back to the canvas!

“Silent’s down! Silent’s down! Z’s back in this matchup!” hollers Mark Stevens, and the crowd begins to chat the one-letter wonder’s somewhat abbrieviated name:

“ZEE! ZEE! ZEE! ZEE!”

Silent collapses to the mat, momentarily stunned, leaving Z perched on the turnbuckle. The blue-haired Carnie grins and salutes the crowd…jumps, spins, and bounces off the ropes…

“SHOTGUN MOONSAULT!” hollers Mark Stevens, and indeed it is, as Z springs off the ropes, flies less than gracefully through the air, and lands smack dab on Silent’s chest! “Z just hit his finishing maneuver, and that might be enough to put this match away!”

Z grins, fairly impressed with his own handiwork, as Silent writhes on the mat in pain. Not wanting to waste any more time, the one-letter wonder hurries over to the side of the cage, and begins to climb…

The Kemper Arena is fully behind the littlest Carnie as he fights his way up the cage, bad arm and all, inch by unforgiving inch. “Silent’s only just now stirring, and Z’s almost to the top!” hollers Stevens. “He’s almost got it won…wait a minute!”

The volume of the crowd rises a decibel or two as Z throws one leg over the top of the cage…then changes to a collective gasp as Silent leaps onto the cage and grabs hold of his hair, preventing the blue-haired one from getting any farther!

“How the hell does he move that fast?” wonders Riley, as the Slaughterer pulls himself up to the top of the cage, keeping hold of Z’s hair as he does so. The Carnie desperately tries to fight him off with a barrage of punches to the head and shoulders, but Silent shrugs them off and fires off two quick elbow strikes to Z’s temple!

His opponent stunned, Silent braces his feet between the links of the cage and hooks Z’s left leg, using his other hand to hold onto the top of the cage and keep his balance. A low murmur runs through the Missouri crowd as the two men stand precariously on top of the cold, hard steel…

“Silent’s got Z set up for something I…can’t quite make out,” mutters Stevens as he squints at the monitor.

Suddenly, Grand Slam’s eyes widen. “Oh, no. Wait a minute. He’s not going to…oh, SHIT!”

The Silent One releases his hold on the cage and quickly cinches up Z with his free hand, as if he were going for a suplex…before leaping backwards, OFF THE TOP OF THE CAGE, with his Carnival opponent in tow!

They fall…

And they land.

CRASH!

“Unbelievable!” breathes Riley, and a gigantic “HO-LY SHIT!” chant breaks out to emphasize the point. “Silent just…just PLASTERED Z with a Fisherman’s Buster from the top of the cage! I’m surprised there aren’t little tiny Z chunks around the ring!”

”That was sickening, Riley! Z might need medical attention after that…Jesus, they’ve been in there for fifteen minutes, and Z is a bloody mess!”

Neither man moves for a long, long moment…until the Silent One sits up, more than a little winded after a fifteen-foot drop from the top of the cage. He rises to his feet, a little unsteadily, and walks over to the cage, begins to climb amidst a hail of boos…

…And stops. The Slaughterer turns his head and looks down at Z, who lies staring up at the lights in the center of the ring, blood streaming from the gashes opened in his forehead by the steel cage.

Silent hops off of the cage, landing deftly on his feet next to his fallen opponent…and drags Z to his feet, slings him over his shoulder…and begins to climb again!

“What in the blue hell is he doing?” wonders Stevens, as Silent inches closer to the top of the cage. “He’s practically won this match…why is he carrying Z…?” A light dawns in Mark Stevens’ eyes as Silent reaches the top of the cage…and looks down at the announce table.

“Mark…um…I think we should move, now.”

”Riley, I’m going to have to agree with you there.”

The two announcers hurry out of the way as Silent props the bloodied one-letter wonder up on the top of the cage, both men balancing precariously on the edge…

“Time for a gut check, boy!” screams Silent as the announcers scurry over to the Spanish announce table, looking in vain for an extra pair of headsets. The Slaughterer’s voice rings out, fifteen feet in the air, high above the crowd in the Kemper Arena…

“Do you want to win…or…do you want…to live?”

Through blood-encrusted lips, Z mumbles his answer. Only the Silent One hears the whispered words of the one-letter wonder…

”I want…to beat you.”

“What’s going on up there?” hollers Mark Stevens through his newly acquired headset. “We can’t hear anything…can we get a…oh, no.”

Stevens stares, his face pale, as Silent braces his feet against the cage and carefully picks Z up…into position for the Fall From Grace.

“There’s no way he can…Silent will kill himself when he falls off the cage, and damn it, he’ll take Alex with him!”

“It’s too late to turn back now, Mark! Z knew what he was asking for when he challenged Silent to this match, and I’ll be damned if he’s not about to get it!”

With an effort visible from fifteen feet below him, Silent lifts Z above his head. Both men totter dangerously on the edge for a long, long moment…

…Before Silent hurls Z from the cage…

All.

The way.

To the ground.

**CRASH!**

“Sweet merciful crap!” screams Stevens. Z lies motionless in the rubble of the English announce table as Funyon calls for the somewhat anti-climatic bell…

**DING DING**

”Your winner…ZEEEEEEEEEEE!”

”Epic” hits the speakers, and Z’s video plays….but it all seems terribly, terribly out of place.

“Well, folks, Z is…is the winner, as it were, in this match, but my God, at what a price!”

Paramedics rush out to ringside, two of them carrying a stretcher, as “Epic” plugs away. Silent stands still at the top of the cage, looking ominously down on his handiwork as Z is hoisted onto the stretcher and carried back up the ramp.

“Riley, I know that Z asked for this match, but…my God, Silent may have ended his career.” The camera centers on a grim-faced Mark Stevens. “Folks, give us a few minutes to clean up on our end and we’ll be right back for the main event, where Lerrin Breggan and Chris Wilson will take on Edwin MacPhisto and Longdogger Pete, with two ringside enforcers…the Hardcore champion, Jay Dawg, and…and that man up there…”

The camera returns briefly to Silent, who still stands atop the cage, arms outstretched in the crucifix pose, before we starwipe to a commercial…

August 20, 2002

[Lerrin Breggan opens the door to Stubby’s office and strolls in holding a package…]

Lerrin – Hey, looks like you got something delivered.

[stubby looks up from some paperwork.]

Stubby – Oh, uh…bring it here.

[McWeed takes the rather small package, quickly notes the address and rips into it.]

Stubby – Hey! Alright!

Lerrin – What is it? Bag of dope? A secret weapon to smite our enemies?

Stubby – Hell no…it’s my new stamp.

Lerrin – Uhhh…what?

Stubby – You know, a rubber stamp that I can use to sign contracts with and whatnot.

Lerrin - …

Stubby – Hey, I like stamps.

Lerrin - …

Stubby – I used to spend hours as a wee child with my rubber stamp collection.

Lerrin – Damn…you were a loser man.

Stubby – Shut up you fat bastard, and bring me that pile of contracts.

[Lerrin shoots Stubby a look then lets out a sigh before getting up, grabbing a short stack of papers and bringing them to Stubby.]

Stubby – Oookay…let’s see. Ash vs. Tom Flesher for the US title…what do you think?

Lerrin – What do I care?

Stubby – Yeah of course. Approved.

[stamp.]

Stubby – Erek vs. Strangler…pink slip ladder match. Sounds good to me. Dumb bitches screwing with my stash.

[stamp.]

Stubby – Next, Wilson vs. Edwin…

Lerrin – Shit, again?

Stubby – Yeah…I’m getting tired of those two hogging the main event.

[stubby grabs a pen and scrawls something on the contract.]

Stubby – There we go…this is Wilson’s last shot at Edwin’s title. If he loses that’s it. Hah.

Lerrin – Sweet. If he loses, make sure to hook me up with a shot.

Stubby – Yeah, we’ll see.

[stamp.]

Stubby – Next up, Thugg vs. Jay Dawg…

August 20, 2002

"...and welcome back to SWF Smarkdown!" hollers "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens. "We're back just in time for the main event, in this last show before SWF Apocalypse, this Sunday on pay per view!"

“I will not fall, I will stand tall, ya all are underneath me…”

BOOM! An eruption of pyro blasts out the front of the stage. Up above on the Smarktron, Perfect Bo keeps on talking, and boos flood through the arena!

“I’m from the home of 9/11, the place of the lost towers, regardless of that we never lose power...”

BOOM! Another blast erupts on stage, and when the smoke clears, Perfect Bo is standing in its place. As "New York City" by Cam'ron and Jay-Z plays through the speakers, Bo makes his stride to the ring, ignoring the negative crowd reaction.

"Ladies and gentlemen," hollers Funyon, "the following tag team contest is scheduled for ONE fall! Introducing first, from New York City, weighing in at 285 pounds, and representing Creative Control... PERFEEEEEEECT BOOOOOOOOO!"

Bo slides into the ring and ascends to the second turnbuckle, looking up and slowly raising one fist into the air. The crowd continues to boo the Creative Control member even after he hops back down from the turnbuckle.

"It's an interesting matchup tonight," Stevens explains to his co-commentator, Bobby Riley. "Just six days removed from Apocalypse, we've got a tag match with a top competitor from each of four major stables!"

"Yeah, yeah, carnage, mayhem, whatever. You know, you hype the same guys every single show, Stevens, and frankly, I'm getting tired of it."

"Well, don't get cranky yet, Riley. We've got a total newcomer to the main event scene in Longdogger Pete, as well as Perfect Bo, who has returned after months away!"

"I am the king of this city, top down, windows up, puffing like diddy...."

Out comes Chris Wilson, the monster heel, who gets some SERIOUS heel heat from the audience. Funyon is right on target again as Chris Wilson slowly walks down the ramp, taking everything in. "And his tag team partner, from Miami, Florida, weighing in at 273 pounds, and representing the Magnificent Seven... CHRIIIIIS WILSOOOOOOOOOON!"

"Hey, you know what I noticed?" Riley says. "Chris Wilson has the same hometown as Longdogger Pete! And they're both roughly the same weight!"

"And they're evenly matched in their determination," Stevens adds, "no question there."

"Who said anything about determination?" Riley wonders. "This was a mere coincidence, Stevens, nothing more."

Chris Wilson slides into the ring to join his tag team partner, Perfect Bo. Interestingly, there appears to be some tension between the two. Wilson and Bo actively try to avoid each other though both are now in the ring. They appear to be trying to concentrate on the match at hand, though neither seems thrilled with his choice of partners.

"You will get yours...

you will get yours...

YOU WILL GET YOURS!"

BOOM! Another pyrotechnic blast erupts, this one a white blast, as "Cold Contagious" by Bush hits the arena. The audience begins to cheer as the leader of X Force 9 emerges on the stage, accompanied by his distinguished business manager, though he is dressed a bit more heavily than usual...

"Look, Stevens!" Riley hollers. "LDP is wearing knee braces!"

"No kidding," Stevens answers. "Looks like Perfect Bo really did some damage to him after Storm this past Friday night."

"Hey, what's Sarah doing out here?" asks Riley.

"Their opponents!" exclaims Funyon from inside the ring. "First, being accompanied to the ring by his manager, Sarah Leavenworth... from Miami, Florida, weighing in at 272 pounds, and representing X Force 9... LOOOOOONGDOGGERRRRRRRR PEEEEEEEEETE!"

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Riley points out, "but didn't Stubby ban Sarah from ringside for this match?"

"Indeed he did," Stevens answers. "And here comes security!"

Two men suddenly emerge on the stage and grab an enraged Sarah Leavenworth, pulling her back off stage. Pete is upset at first, but understanding the match stipulation, lets it pass, and continues his descent toward the ring. About halfway down the ramp, he stops and looks back up to the stage to await his tag team partner.

The haunting opening intro to "Battleflag" by the Lo Fidelity All Stars begins, and the Smarktron displays alternating images of grey silhouettes and a man standing at a lamp post. The music gets quiet, and Edwin MacPhisto's face suddenly appears on the Tron, greeting the audience with his sharp tongue...

"Step right up, and what have we here? It's the Crown Prince and the Doggah, together again for the first time! Wait... did that come out right? Oh, bugger this!"

...the audience waits with baited breath as the screen pauses...

"I said Hallelujah! ...to the sixteen loyal fans!"

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The audience roars with applause as the vocals of "Battleflag" kick in, and strobe lights give way to multiple pyro blasts that, fortunately, Longdogger Pete manages to steer clear of. Moments later, Pete's partner arrives on stage, the Crown Prince of Flash and Panache himself, proudly wearing the SWF World Heavyweight Championship around his waist.

"And his tag team partner!" exclaims Funyon. "From Amsterdam, England, weighing in at 239 pounds, and representing the Midnight Carnival... he is the SWF World Heavyweight Champion... EDWIIIIIIIN MAC-PHISSSSS-TOOOOOOOOOO!"

The audience continues to roar, and a chant rises up from one section of the arena, energized by the champion's mere presence. "MAC-PHIS-TO! MAC-PHIS-TO!"

The leaders of the SWF's two face stables slide into the ring at the same time as "Battleflag" starts to fade out. As the two teams converge, the nervous referee does his best to try to keep everyone apart until the match officially begins.

Funyon continues with his introductions. "Introducing the special guest ring enforcers for this match... JAY DAWG and SILENT!"

Two of the most hated men in the federation emerge and begin walking down the ramp, sans music. The audience gives them hell, a thunderous burst of heel heat that echoes throughout the arena. The "ring enforcers," for their part, do their best to ignore the crowd reaction. Edwin MacPhisto visibly winces upon seeing the arrival of Silent, and Longdogger Pete even notices the nervousness suddenly written across Edwin's face. “Here comes Silent and Jay Dawg, an interesting pair. Jay Dawg’s got his fingers in everybody’s business lately—Silent’s, Wilson’s, Edwin’s, Annie’s…the Dawg is becoming quite the manipulator, I’m afraid.” Silent, still covered in blood from the cage match (though whether it’s his or Z’s at this point remains up for debate), and JD stalk down the ramp, sharing one or two words but otherwise staying apart.

"Edwin looks troubled," Riley notes. "Not a good sign, especially just six days away from a title defense against Chris Wilson!"

"Silent's got him distracted," replies Stevens, "and I wish he'd tell me why. This just isn't like Edwin!"

“Well, I’ll tell you one thing, Mark. Whatever was on the videotape that Silent gave to Chris Raynor must have been pretty serious—he simply walked out of tonight’s show, sans explanation. And now Silent’s gone and given a copy to Wilson…all I know is that if it’s bad for your precious ‘Mac Daddy,’ I want a private screening, dammit!”

Jay Dawg and Silent take up opposite positions at ringside, the Silent One shooting a smirking grin at Edwin MacPhisto, then waving almost non-chalantly to Chris Wilson. “Silent must be loving this—everyone wants at Wilson, and everything’s falling apart for Edwin. It’s going to take a lot from the veteran Longdogger to keep Edwin’s head in the game tonight.” Pete taps Edwin's shoulder, and it is enough to bring Edwin's attention back to the match at hand. Wilson begins to move toward the team, ready to start the match, beckoning towards Edwin with pantomime of a video camera, but as Edwin steps forward, choosing to be the first legal man in the match, Wilson suddenly drops back. The M7 mastermind gives Bo a hearty slap on the back and tries to mumble something about Bo being his dogg, but the Perfect One steps through the ropes and cracks out his neck, pointing at LDP and looking right through Edwin.

"Interesting tactic from Wilson," notes Stevens. "He doesn't want any part of Edwin. You suppose he's chickening out just a little?"

"No way!" argues Riley. "Wilson is a mastermind at work! He's obviously messing with Edwin's head, and saving the best for last. Wilson’s as much a showman as Edwin—he doesn’t want to give away anymore Wilson/Edwin on free TV than he has to! He’s keeping an eye on OUR job security, Mark!"

DING DING!

The bell rings as the match finally gets officially underway, Edwin MacPhisto now facing off with Perfect Bo to start things off. The world champion goes for an early start, rushing toward Bo, but Bo is prepared, quickly knocking Edwin over with a stiff shoulder block. Edwin is instantly back to his feet and swinging with a shotei, but Bo dodges and easily picks up the smaller Edwin, spinning him into a tilt-a-whirl slam, and sending Edwin sprawling back on the mat again.

"Good ol' Eddie Mac seems to have lost some of his step!" comments Riley.

"Enough with the sarcasm, all right?" snaps Stevens.

Bo goes for an early cover...

ONE!

TWO!—no, too early, as Edwin easily kicks out. Edwin gets back up thanks to a hair pull from Bo, and Bo lunges forward with a power clothesline. Edwin ducks the clothesline and untangles himself from Bo’s grasp, and Bo runs to the ropes instead. The big man rebounds…but Edwin charges to meet him, turning, leaping, and striking with a jumping roundhouse kick to Bo's face! Bo stumbles backward, turning his head away from Edwin's direction. Edwin, undaunted, lands on his feet to a big pop, and leaps again, repeating the same roundhouse kick, but this time to the back of Bo's head! “Gamengiri and enzuigiri chain from the world champ, and there goes Bo!” Bo falls forward to the mat, and Edwin drops down to take advantage of the situation, quickly locking in a half Boston crab submission on Bo…

"There's Edwin's momentum," Stevens comments. "What were you saying about him losing his step, Riley?"

…but before Edwin can even elevate, Bo rolls onto his side and shoots his boot into Edwin’s chest, knocking him loose!

“Ahem,” sniggers Riley.

“Eat a bag of dicks, Bobby.” Stevens sulks as Bo gets up and shakes off the two shots to the skull, but a shout of “He’s mine, Edwin, lemme at em!” beckons the Mac Daddy away from his big black charge—he backs off to his corner and quickly tags in Longdogger Pete.

LDP steps in, ready to go, dashing toward Bo and diving toward the New Yorker, dropping a fierce elbow. Pete and Bo both get to their feet, and Pete presses his advantages, beating Bo back with a flurry of hard right overhand punches that stagger back the slightly larger Bo.

"LDP with a frenzied offense," says Stevens. "Good showing from the XF9 leader early in this match." Pete hammers Bo back towards a neutral corner to a solid ovation, but the Perfect One comes back with his own signature right hooks. The two massive men send shot after shot into each other, brawling away with reckless abandon…that is, until Pete connects with a stiff haymaker and goes straight into a choke on Perfect Bo! The crowd goes nuts as Bo thrashes in the corner, and the referee immediately pulls Pete and gives him a warning! “And the Longdogger’s aggressive style is really coming out tonight, Bobby! Turning on Pete and XF9 was one thing—attacking him in the parking lot Friday night was another! This has gotten real personal real fast, and I can’t wait to see what these two pull out in a Last Man Standing match this Sunday!” Pete blows right past the referee and slams his shoulder into Bo’s chest, staggering the big man, and from the face corner, Edwin turns out to the crowd and gets a chant started!

“ELL-DEE-PEE! ELL-DEE-PEE!” Fired up by the crowd, Pete takes Bo by the hand and whips him across to the other neutral corner, charging behind and avalanching the Bronx bomber into the ringpost! Nearby, ring enforcer Jay Dawg pounds the apron and screams at Bo to get up and break some skulls, while Silent sullenly paces around the ring, keeping an eye on all involved parties. Pete keeps up the overhand punches, but the sturdy Bo charges up and steps through them this time…right into an LDP waistlock! The crowd roars as Pete lifts Bo vertical sticks out his knee…and brings the Perfect One crashing down crotch-first with a big Manhattan Drop! Bo stumbles back into the corner as Pete backs out, raising the roof and turning back towards Bo as he staggers out of the corner. The Longdogger powers forward and stops Bo right in his tracks, slamming him back into the corner with a huge clothesline! Bo hits the post…and then falls forward, faceplanting into the mat to a big cheer! “Pete’s taken the gusto out of Bo! Here’s the first cover of the night!” Pete drags Bo from the corner…but before he can go for the press, his foot flops out from under him and the Longdogger crashes down besides Bo! The cheers turn to boos, and Jay Dawg innocently waltzes away from ringside as the ref chides him!

“Attaboy, JD! Way to enforce!”

“I never understood the point of ring enforcers,” mutters Stevens. “It’s basically giving people a license to cheat!”

“Oh, come on Mark! Where are you going to find citizens more upstanding and honorable than Silent and Jay Dawg?”

“Uh…San Quentin, maybe?” Pete climbs off the mat and moves to the ropes, shouting and pointing an accusing finger at Jay Dawg, when suddenly his right leg falls out from under him again, this time courtesy of Perfect Bo and a dragon screw legwhip! Pete falls awkwardly and lands on his thigh, drawing a cry of pain, and Bo is immediately on his feet…and back down again, with a big elbow drop over the right knee! Pete cries out, and Bo is up again…and again…and again, landing 4 big black elbows right over Pete’s knee brace!

“And just like that, the brilliant psychological attack of Creative Control turns this match around!”

“Bo’s tearing into Pete’s legs…as if he didn’t do enough with the frickin’ crowbar after Storm…” Bo immediately hits the mat and laces Pete’s right leg into a half-crab, bridging back and drawing a loud cry…but Pete’s right on the ropes, and he gets his hand around the bottom one before much damage can be done. Jay Dawg dashes forward and chops out Pete’s forearm, interrupting the rope break…but Pete latches on again, and the ref shouts JD away from ringside as he forces Bo to break the hold! Bo pulls Pete back up, but a shout comes from his corner…

“Why don’t you let the REAL submission master have a go at it?” A smirking Chris Wilson drapes his hand over the ropes, and after a couple second thoughts and a stiff kneelift to double Pete over, Bo makes the tag to Wilson, passing the Longdogger off…just as Wilson takes him down in a drop toehold!

“Wilson’s in now, and I think he’s looking to prove something…” The M7 mastermind stands over Pete and then drops his knee down stiffly across the back of the Longdogger’s leg, once, twice, three times, mimicking Bo’s assault but with a different stiff joint. Pete cries out and shoots a glance to Edwin, who can do little but stretch over the ropes right now. Wilson bends at the knees and grabs Pete’s legs, pulling them up, thrashing them around a bit…and then carefully folding them into the classic figure-four position, lacing his own and falling to the mat with a crushing figure-four leglock!

“There we go!” cries Bobby. “In his SWF tenure, Wilson’s made top stars tap out left and right, mostly to the Finishing Touches…but with Pete’s legs already a wreck, the figure-four is the smart hold! Look at him cry, Mark!” In the ring, Pete struggles and stretches for the tag, but trapped in the center of the ring, he’s still a good 7 or 8 feet from salvation. Wilson keeps pumping the legs, and Pete relents, laying back to catch a breather, his shoulders on the mat…

ONE!

TWO—and Pete gets up, trying to sit up straight…but relenting again, and dropping back down!

ONE!

TWO—and the veteran LDP gets up again! “Pete’s falling like a bitch--”

“Not quite, Bobby! Every time Pete lays down, he reduces the pressure of the leg lock from his end—he can’t stay down for long or he’ll be pinned, but those breathers might be what he needs to get out of this hold and make the ropes!” Edwin reaches for the tag and tries to start a clapping rally, and after the second breather, Pete tries to take his focus off the pain and drag himself to the Carnie in his corner…and succeeds, dragging Wilson behind him one foot…two feet…getting closer…and stopping dead in his tracks as the pressure suddenly increases two-fold! “What the—god-damn these ring enforcers!” The crowd boos wildly as Silent’s hands reach under the ring ropes and lock with Chris Wilson’s, giving him the extra leverage he needs to hold Pete in place! The Longdogger cries out in immense pain…and Edwin MacPhisto has had enough! The Mac Daddy burst out of his corner and dashes down the apron towards Silent…who immediately lets go and backs away, cutting an imposing profile! Edwin stops in his tracks and his expression fades as Silent backs off, mouthing “poor little Alex” as he twirls his cane. Chilled, Edwin sulks back to the corner, ignorant of the electric crowd reaction as Pete gets a second wind and starts dragging Wilson towards the corner! Wilson tightens the leg lock…and Pete keeps coming, hammering his palms into the canvas and pulling himself towards safe harbor!

“Tear those legs out, Wilson!”

“Look at the upper body strength on Pete—he’s pulling a 273 pound man behind him…and he’s almost there…” Wilson sits up high, trying to get extra leverage on Pete with a steeper angle…and suddenly flies backwards, as the Longdogger rears around with a roar and clocks him in the face! Wilson collapses and the hold loosens, and Pete takes one big crawling leap to his corner…and tags in Edwin! “Pete got out! I can’t believe he pulled that off--”

“But look at him, Mark!” cries Bobby, as Edwin helps Pete up in the corner. “His legs are decimated! I’ll be surprised if he can walk into Apocalypse without the help of a gigantic sentient robotic exoskeleton!” As Edwin helps Pete, Wilson sits up and sees the man in the ring…and as Edwin turns to face him, the master manipulator rolls out of the ring to a big round of boos!

“Wilson’s dodging Edwin again…damn his mindgames! And looky there, he’s with the other two masters of the mind…Jay Dawg and Silent. Edwin’d be a fool to follow out there!” Edwin knows this, and all he can do is watch and rail at Wilson as the manipulator takes shelter behind the ‘enforcers’ and slowly trods around to his corner.

“What exactly is Jay Dawg’s deal, by the way?” asks Bobby, as Wilson sloooowly rolls back into the ring by his corner. “He’s…let’s see…having the Clan and Silent go after Annie…trying to call out the Thugg…calling the Magnificent Seven pieces of crap but working with them against X-Force 9…trying to take out Silent for the Carnival…none of this makes any sense! Oi! He’s really trying to make something of himself, finally…” Bobby trails off as Wilson gets back into the ring and slaps hands with JD’s stablemate, Bo, who thunders into the ring to a big chorus of boos, some for Bo’s entrance, others for Wilson’s departure. Bo and Edwin walk forward to meet each other for the second time this match. The Mac Daddy repeats his gambit from early, going for the fast charge, but Bo’s shoulder block misses this time as Edwin rolls out to the right! Before Bo can turn, Edwin lobs a shotei into the side of his head, staggering Bo and following up with a big clothesline! Edwin hooks the leg…

ONE!

TWO—and Bo kicks out comfortably. “Looks like Edwin wants to get this over with as quickly as possible, and I can see why,” comments Stevens. “His partner’s in bad shape, and there are four men out here who’d all love a piece of the Mac Daddy or his world title!” Edwin pulls Bo up and lets fly a kneelift, hooking a headlock for the Midnight Special bulldog…and getting shoved off by an alert Bo! Edwin continues his forward momentum and bounces off the ropes, coming right back towards a waiting Bo…and dropping into a baseball slide, blazing past Bo and pulling his left leg out from under him along the way! “Baseball slide into a dragon screw—now that’s a takedown!” Bo climbs up, but before he can get anywhere, Edwin’s behind him with an arm around his neck, hooking a tight dragon sleeper! “Edwin’s got the sleeper, and he’s going for the big legsweep…” The crowd roars as Edwin tries to grapevine Bo’s leg, but Bo stomps out and kicks the offending leg away, so Edwin improvises and pushes forward, dropping Bo to his knees! Edwin holds onto the dragon sleeper and steps across Bo’s back, locking in a back-mounted dragon-sleeper to a big pop!

“Edwin and his damn dragon sleepers! Ugh!”

“There’s the Crown Prince Clutch! Can Edwin put Bo out with this?” The answer, unfortunately, is a definitive no, as Bo rolls forward violently and dumps Edwin off his shoulders and onto the mat!

“Stupid mistake from Edwin—Bo’s still way too fresh to go down to a submission from a smaller man! Edwin’s got to wear him down if that’s the approach he’s taking!” Bo takes Edwin into a tight rear choke of his own, trying to secure the Wild Out tazzmission, but Edwin grabs the ropes right in front of him and Bo has to break!

“And Edwin makes up for the mistake with a smart counter—grabbing the ropes rather than try to fight out of Bo’s big kata-hajime!” The Mac Daddy turns and brushes himself off, but the sharp sound of a rat-tat-tat-tat behind him breaks his concentration. He turns and sees Silent tapping the tip of his steel cane against the guardrail, smirking…and feels his head being yanked around into a ¾ facelock from Perfect Bo! The crowd shouts and roars, and acting on instinct, Edwin shoves Bo away, barely escaping the Perfect Pain! “Another distraction from Silent—and here’s Edwin, going for the ride!” Bo comes off the facelock into an Irish whip, and Edwin bounces back with a clothesline…that Bo meets with a standing big boot! Edwin plummets down hard, and Bo has him off the mat in a second, shaking him like a big British rag doll before dropping him, grabbing his neck from behind, and hoisting him up into a hangman neckbreaker submission! Edwin thrashes as his feet come off the ground, and Bo pumps his neck a few times before sitting out and snapping Edwin hard! The Mac Daddy collapses, and Bo crawls over for the cover…

ONE!

TWO!

THR—and Edwin kicks out!

“Closest call so far—I’d say Edwin needs to tag back to Pete and get his neck out of hot water, but Pete took a beating of his own—I don’t know who’s better off at this point!” Bo pulls Edwin up and goes for the Perfect Pain to another roar of boos…but this time Edwin scores a mule kick, clipping out Bo’s leg and knocking him off balance! The Perfect One spins right back around and scoops Edwin into a bearhug, but the Mac Daddy cracks him with a headbutt, dizzying both men as they break out fast! Both men fall away, and Edwin scrambles on his knees towards Pete, shouting “Sorry Dogger, I need a breather of my own!” as he makes the tag! Shrugging and favoring his right leg, Pete comes hobbling through the ropes straight for Bo…who flapjacks him into the mat!

“Ha! Talk about an anticlimactic entrance!” Bo steps over Pete…and the Longdogger shoots a boot up off the mat, square into Bo’s jaw, silencing Riley! The crowd roars as Pete stands up and comes back with his overhand punches, shoving Bo into the ropes. Pete whips Bo across the ring, and Bo comes back…and goes low, with a diving shoulder block to the knee! Pete leapfrogs Bo to a big pop…but lands badly, almost collapsing off of that!

“Better to hurt yourself a little than let Bo do it a lot,” says Stevens, as Bo clambers to his feet, makes for LDP…and suffers a double-leg pickup as Pete pulls his legs out and bridges for a pin! “Perfect Dark—Pete’s pressing down with everything he’s got!” The ref drops down!

ONE!

TWO!

THR—and Bo explodes out, shoving both feet into Pete’s chest and sending him staggering him back! The Perfect One gets up, but Pete comes right back with a charge into a spear, sending Bo right back into the mat and toppling both men over! The crowd roars as Pete pulls Bo up one more time and whips him across the ring…and meets him with a stunning standing Thesz press into mounted punches! “Perfect Dark! Spear! Dog Pound! Pete’s running through the whole list, and the crowd is loving it!” Pete hammers away, and outside the ring, Jay Dawg’s had enough. He yanks Pete’s foot out of the ring and starts to drag him off…but the crowd cheers as Edwin MacPhisto pops Dawg in the face with a baseball slide dropkick, knocking him off of Pete! The distraction gives Bo enough time to reverse the punches, and soon he and Pete are back on their feet, brawling like mad! Chris Wilson looks on, tracing his eyes back and forth between Edwin and JD and Pete and Bo, while Silent leans against the guardrail outside the ring, looking on in interest. “It’s breaking down!” cries Stevens, and Edwin turns back to his corner…only to have JD dive into the ring, blitzing him from behind! Wilson applauds as JD knees Edwin into the gut and takes him into a headscissors, hooking his arms for the You Let The Dawg Out! Piledriver…while meanwhile, Bo chokes Pete across the ropes…and Edwin backdrops out of JD’s assault, sending the hardcore champ clattering to a standing position! “Reversal!”

“Blarr!”

And Edwin hits JD with a stunning shotei…while Pete nails a shocking Lo’ Dogger to Perfect Bo, completely behind the ref’s back as he deals with JD! “Pete got the Lo’Dogger! Bo’s stunned!” The crowd roars, and Edwin shoves the ref out of the way, lining up back to back with JD just as Pete takes Bo into a facelock, lifts…

Edwin lifts…

Pete falls back…

Edwin spins and dashes forward…

…and the crowd goes nuts as—

WHAM!

--Pete hits the Longdogger Clogger on Bo, and Edwin conks JD with the Union Jack! “Clogger on Bo! Union Jack on JD! The good guys have this one out of nowhere!” Pete immediately dives to the mat and hooks Bo’s leg tightly, and the ferocious Bo tries to kick through! The ref dives down, and Wilson comes into the ring, eying his trapped partner, as well as a vulnerable, back-turned Edwin MacPhisto…

ONE!

TWO!

And Wilson ignores Bo, and charges straight for Edwin!

THREE!

“Pete pins Bo! What a finish!” The bell rings, and “Cold Contagious” starts to blare, but not before Wilson floors Edwin with the Rim Rocka flying knee, right to the back!

“Your winners,” stammers Funyon, “Edwin MacPhisto and Longdoggahhhhh Peeeeete!” Edwin collapses in a heap, and Silent looks on gleefully, applauding Wilson’s decision! “Wilson went for Edwin instead of helping out Bo…and this is spilling to the outside!” Wilson dumps Edwin over the top rope as Bo tries to get up! The ref raises Pete’s arm in victory…and Bo pulls out his leg, sending the Longdogger to the mat in pain! Bo rises up and starts to stomp down on Pete’s legs, while Wilson throws Edwin into the guardrail! Silent raises his cane, as if to strike…and then backs off, smirking some more. In the ring, JD, starts to crawl to awareness, not knowing exactly what just happened to him, except that Edwin was responsible. He turns to find the champ…and sees Wilson tossing him over the guardrail into the crowd! Cursing, JD turns back to Bo…and decides that, in Edwin’s place, Pete’ll be just fine as a punching bag! Silent nonchalantly starts to walk towards the back, twirling his cane and laughing as anarchy explodes all around, Bo and JD stomping away at helpless Pete, and Edwin and Wilson trading shots, punches, brutal kicks…until Edwin trips him up and faceplants him right into the concrete! The Mac Daddy goes for a big elbow drop…and Wilson rolls away! Security personnel dive into the chaos, trying to separate the two men, but to no avail!

“No-Holds-Barred on Sunday! Look at these two! It’s going to be brutal, that’s for sure!” shills Riley. “We’ll be ringside for all the brutality and blood…and speaking of which, Pete’s not doing so hot himself right now! Ha!” As Edwin and Wilson disappear and Silent leaves the stage, Bo puts his boot down over Pete’s throat, choking him out, while JD goes to Funyon for the microphone, snatching it away.

“Your boy lost, JD!” snaps Stevens. “Get over it!”

“Look at this fucker!” snaps JD, taking in the crowd, staggering about, still a bit dizzy from the Union Jack. “Look at me and Bo tear his ass up! The Longdogger here won’t be walking into Apocalypse on Sunday—he’ll be on crutches, or in a wheelchair! Just like that piece of shit cripple, the Hville Thugg! This what he’d be looking like if he were here right now—a beat down mess, courtesy me and my boy Bo! Look tough, Pete—we’re only gonna kick your ass for another 10 minutes, and then you can crawl back to that bitch Sarah! See you in hell, bitches!”

August 20, 2002

JD and Bo continue to stomp LDP in the ring. JD with the mic in hand.

(Jamie) “Pick him up! It’s time you learned, LDP!”

Bo pulls the near 300-pound LDP to his feet with ease. Bo locks on a ¾ nelson facelock, and before he drops down, JD holds his hands out.

(Jamie) “Wait! Wait! Wait!”

JD gets on the other side of LDP, and locks on a ¾ nelson facelock himself…

(Riley) “Ha ha!”

(Stevens) “This isn’t good!”

…AND DROP DOWN WITH A DOUBLE PERFECT PAIN!!!

(Riley) “The Perfect Insanity! Or the Borderline Pain! Ha! I love it!”

JD bounces back up as Bo rolls over top of LDP, punching him repeatedly in the face. JD pulls the mic out, stomping around in the ring as he shouts into the mic.

(Jamie) “NOW YOU SEE!!1 IF THAT CRIPPLED FATASS WERE HERE!!! THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT WOULD HAPPEN!!! THUGG!!! I’M GOING TO SEE YOUR LARD BUCKET ASS AT THE PPV!!!”

JD stands over top of LDP, and assists Bo with some stomps. Out of the blue…

...darkness.

(Riley) - Hey! Who turned out the lights?!?

(Stevens) - Oh dear god! You don't think??

The entire arena is shouded in a never-ending sea of pitch black, interrupted by the occasional over anxious flash bulb from high in the crowd. Inside the ring, JD looks stands dumbfounded, and if his face could be seen, it would probably read, "Oh shit."

(Riley) - Would someone please turn the lights back on...jesus.

(Stevens) - There's some commotion! What' the hell! No, it's not...it can't be?!?

A small section of fans begin to scream like they've never screamed before, and after a few moments, the lights in the arena return, sending the fans into an explosion of nuclear proportions. Jay Dawg knows they're screaming for a reason, and he knows they he should high tail his ass right up that ramp, but he is compelled to see what all the commotion is about.

(Stevens) - HOLY SHIT!! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!

Jay Dawg's eyes are as large as dinner plates as he slowly turns around...

BAM!!!

...AND IS COMPLETELY FLOORED BY A STEEL CHAIR SHOT...

FROM THE HVILLE THUGG!!!!

(Stevens) - I can't believe it! He's here! He's here! And he just took Jay Dawg's head completely off with the most vicious chair shot I've ever seen in my many years!!

(Riley) - Talk about uncalled for...now THAT was uncalled for!!

(Stevens) - I don't freaking care!! I love it! The fans love it!! The HVille Thugg is back in the house!!! Oh what a night!!

The fans are going completely apeshit as JD's limp carcas hits the floor from the most vile chairshot in history, while a black leather trench wearing HVT stands over top of him. Perfect Bo turns around, looking into the eyes of the man he put out months ago. He swings for a punch, but HVT has already swung the chair straight at his head…

SMACK!!!

Bo drops to the mat as HVT begins screaming at the top of his lungs..."Pick on someone your own size you fuckin' bitch!!!"

(Stevens) - What a night!! Thugg is back and he just taught Jay Dawg a lesson!!! And their match for Apocalypse just got that much hotter! Oh, what an event it's gonna be this Sunday!!!

HVT stands in the ring, still yelling at JD, while the fans lavish him with so many cheers he never got during his first tenure. He throws the chair down and throws both hands in the air, soaking up the cheers.

(Riley) - It don't matter...Thugg blind sided Jamie tonight, but this Sunday, he's gonna have to step into the ring with the hardcore god!!

(Stevens) - I don't know if Thugg is worried about that...but what I do know is when they step in the ring this Sunday, it's gonna be a war! What an even it's gonna be! Erek Taylor....The Boston Strangler in a pink slip ladder match! Thugg and Jay Dawg in a hardcore match! And out HUGE main event...EDWIN MACPHISTO...CHRIS WILSON...SWF WORLD TITLE....OH WHAT A NIGHT IT'S GONNA BE!! DON'T MISS IT!

As Smardown goes off the air with Thugg in the ring being cheered more than ever in his life, the camera pans over to the crowd...

The flicker of light refracted off the lens of the camera as it swept overhead while he looked out into the ring from amid the hordes of screaming SWF fans, his face unseen by the masses. There stood the reason he had been haunting these shows for the last few weeks, the Hville Thugg, soaking up the crowds adoring reaction to him like he had never been away. A smirk highlighted the edge of his lips as he admired how things had come together, strings pulled as they were by Jamie to bring the prize that he desired to the here and now.

The smirk grew on his face as he watched his advisory stalk his den, caged for now as he was behind the ropes of the ring. Ah, the poor Thugg was going into a fight thinking that a war was long since won. He would have felt sympathy for him if he didn't want his blood so badly. No, come the weekend, when the Thugg's anger was at its peek, spiralling out of control and ready to brake forth from the damn, he would show the Thugg the true meaning of anger, the true meaning of power. When he was done, there would be nothing left of the Thugg, but ashes and memories of an Apocalypse…

August 20, 2002

#1 Contendership to the SWF Tag Team Titles

“Deathwish” Danny Williams/Xero vs. Sacred/Lerrin Breggan

- Williams/Xero are the #1 contenders!

Hardcore Match

Annie Eclectic vs. Ced Ondornez

- Annie wins with some unwanted help from that wild and wacky Silent.

Singles Match

“TNT” Taylor Nicholas Thompson vs. Chris Raynor

- Scooby Raynor, where are you?

#1 Contendership to the US Title

Ash Ketchum vs. Tod deKindes

- Ash vs. Flesher at Apocalypse!

Steel Cage Match

Silent vs. Z

- Silent pushes Z off the top of the cage through a table! Woo! Of course that means he lost the match though.

MAIN EVENT

Tag Team Match

Longdogger Pete/Edwin MacPhisto vs. Perfect Bo/Chris Wilson

Special Ring Enforcers: Jay Dawg & Silent {no matches from you boys}

- Pete/MacPhisto win this one.

SWF Smarkdown (August 19/2002)

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