SWF Apocalypse

[Guest BA_Baracus]

A NewLife Production

 

Apocalypse, the end of the world, as well as a new beginning. Surprises abound on the last of the SWF Pay Per Views before the start of a new season, but the biggest and the best are yet to come. And as most people know, the more history is made, the more it seems to repeat itself.

 

But nothing can prepare them for what will happen soon.

 

“Apocalypse is live and in living color,” screams “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens behind the announce desk. The deafening cheers of the overfull Pepsi Center forcing him to strain his familiar voice. “This is one of the best crowds we’ve ever had, right here in Denver, and the action was never better!”

 

“Right on, my brotha,” a wigged out Bobby Riley chimes in, giving Mark the thumbs up symbol. “SWF be kickin’ it! Word to your mother.”

 

“Take that damn Fred Durst looking hat off, white boy.”

 

“I ain’t white. I’m just light skinted.”

 

Grand Slam sighs, then turns to the camera again.

 

“The buyouts are guaranteed to set records on this one, folks. Edwin MacPhisto, Midnight Carnie extraordinaire, and a close personal friend of mine-“

 

“-close personal friend-“ Riley snickers. Mark Stevens ignores him.

 

“-is set to go one on one with the Mastermind and Un-Magnificent Chrissy Wilson. This is going to be one for the history books.”

 

“It sure will. Wilson will win the championship- AGAIN!” Riley does a very unrhythmic version of the cabbage patch while Mark chuckles. “And that deserves to be in history books if you ask me. The date memorized by children in grade schools across the world.” Mark interrupts.

 

“Not to mention the fact that- whoa!”

 

His exclamation and the sudden quiet of the audience are due to the sudden change in music. “O Fortuna” begins, its throbbing rhythms and ominous choral melody confusing everyone, including the announcers. Adding to the misdirection, is the sudden firing up of the Smarktron’s surface.

 

“Check it out,” Riley says, pointing to the huge screen above the ramp. “Some footage.”

 

“It looks raw. Almost homemade.” Stevens shields his eyes from the overhead lights in order to get a better view of the screen, as Riley hops out of his seat.

 

“Wait a second… that’s familiar…” But Mark is speaking at the same time.

 

“That looks like a live feed!”

 

And that’s what it is. The crowd begins to cheer as they realize that they are the subject of the footage- they are being filmed! Frantically, security, spectators, and announcers search the arena for the cameraman. Immediately, the camera itself seems to move in anticipation of pursuit, and as the hired guards close in on the location of the filmmaker, he races through the crowd.

 

“Someone here in the arena has tapped into the Smarktron,” Grand Slam exclaims wildly. “We have no idea who would hack in like this, but apparently, there’s some method to the madness. They’re already escaping security.”

 

“Hey,” Riley shouts. “Numbers.”

 

He points to the Tron, where a group of numbers in the lower right hand corner of the live feed begin to count down. Days, hours, minutes, and seconds. Riley excitedly expounds on his discovery.

 

“It looks like some kind of timer! But what happens when it reaches zero, Mark? Tell me, tell me, I wanna know!”

 

“I have no idea, Bobby, this is all really confusing.”

 

The feed is now backstage. A few techs and stagehands scurry out of the way, as the cameraman re-emerges, this time in an upper tier overlooking the ring. The camera jumps a bit, and suddenly, the people in the stands become the subject of the lens, as finally the security guards find the location of the camcorder- in the hands of a woman wearing an old school “Louisville Slugger” T-Shirt.

 

“Hey Grand Slam, she’s a fan of yours!”

 

“No doubt, but how did she get that camera?”

 

Security demands confiscation, as the hacked feed is finally replaced with an SWF sanctioned Television camera near the action. As the people cheer wildly, one of the security guards holds up the camccorder for inspection, then shrugs, and turns it towards the newer camera. On a tag hung from the camcorders viewfinder is a small sign written in distinctively stylized handwriting. And on it are written three simple words:

 

“It’s Coming.”

 

“What the hell?” Bobby Riley asks, frustrated with the mystery. “It’s coming? What’s coming? And who gave that camera to the girl?”

 

“No idea, Riley, but she does have good taste in clothing.”

 

“Oh your jokes suck.”

 

“But seriously, it looks like we have another mystery man on our hands, but this one prefers to be behind the camera. Who could it be?”

 

“Maybe a voyeur? Hmm… could be interesting.”

 

“Or maybe someone who’s been backstage for awhile, watching and waiting?”

 

“But what is ‘It?’” Riley shrugs. “The sign said ‘It’s coming.’ What?”

 

“Well, I saw about as much as you, but folks I promise you we’re gonna get right on it.”

 

The people continue to cheer for the SWF camera as “It’s Coming” remains on the Smarktron. The view finally changes as everyone continues to wonder what this could all mean, if anything at all…

 

… to be continued…

[Guest BA_Baracus]

SINGLES MATCH

Chris Raynor vs. Mercury

- Mercury disappeared off the face of the planet for a while, but he’s back and ready to represent the M7 by kicking some Carnie arse!

 

BOMB SHELTER TAG TEAM TITLE MATCH

“TNT” Taylor Nicholas Thompson & Frost © vs. Danny Williams & Xero

- Danny Williams and Xero have proved to be a winning tag team, and seem to be a lot more effective together than they are apart. The two of them will take on Chilly Willy clang bang or whatever this Sunday, with the titles on the line!

Match Description – Regular DQ and count-out rules are not in effect. The winners are the first ones to place both their opponents in the “bomb shelter” (which looks strangely like a dumpster painted grey) and lock the lid. The bomb shelter will be located beneath the stage, to one side of the ramp.

 

NO-DQ SINGLES MATCH

Sacred vs. Renegade

- X force 9 member Renegade is back from wherever he was off to and will face CC member Sacred on Sunday. Sacred won their last encounter, but can he pull it off a second time in a no-DQ environment?

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

 

SINGLES MATCH FOR THE HARDCORE TITLE #1 CONTENDERSHIP

Silent vs. Annie Eclectic

- Annie Eclectic was been gunning for the hardcore champion Jay Dawg for some time now, but since Dawg is currently obsessed with the Hville Thugg, he has convinced Silent to keep the former Clan assassin busy. Will Annie finally get her shot at hardcore gold?

 

US TITLE MATCH

Tom Flesher © vs. Ash Ketchum

- Ash won this title shot on Smarkdown and this Sunday will face double champion Tom Flesher for the coveted US title!

 

LAST MAN STANDING MATCH FOR THE ICTV TITLE #1 CONTENSERSHIP

Longdogger Pete vs. Perfect Bo

- A couple weeks back Perfect Bo returned to action and it looked as if he was going to join X Force 9, but he screwed XF9 over by joining Creative Control instead. This rivalry has been building ever since and will explode this Sunday at Apocalypse!

Match Description - DQ and count-out rules are in effect. The only way to win the match is to knock your opponent out for a 10 count within the ring.

 

TRIPLE THREAT MATCH FOR THE HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE #1 CONTENDERSHIP

Thoth vs. Lerrin Breggan vs. El Luchadore Magnifico

- All three of these men have what it takes to possibly become the SWF heavyweight champion, and the winner of the match will face the winner of the Apocalypse main event on an upcoming show.

Match Description – DQ and count-out rules are in effect. The first man to score a submission, pinfall or knockout is the winner.

 

HARDCORE TITLE MATCH

Jay Dawg © vs. The Hville Thugg

- Jay Dawg has been obsessed with the former 2-time heavyweight champion Hville Thugg lately and has been doing everything in his power to goad him into returning, including victimizing members of X Force 9 (whom Thugg is now aligned with). Well Dawg got his wish on Smarkdown as Thugg made his return and will face Dawg for the Hardcore title this Sunday!

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

 

YOU’RE FIRED/LADDER MATCH

Erek Taylor vs. The Boston Strangler

- Stemming from a feud over the ICTV title (which Taylor no longer holds) this feud has become increasingly personal. Strangler has even had Erek Taylor thrown into jail. This Sunday these two face off with their very careers on the line!

Match Description – Regular DQ and count-out rules are not in effect. A briefcase will be hanging above the ring. The first man to retrieve it and touch both feet to the mat with it in his possession will not be fired.

 

NO-DQ/NO INTERFERENCE MATCH FOR THE SWF HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE

Edwin MacPhisto © vs. Chris Wilson

- Do we really need an introduction? The feud between these two has been raging for months now and has consumed the entire federation. After battling under all types of stipulations, this Sunday Wilson and Edwin will go straight up one on one for the title, for possibly the last time as this is the last time as this is the last title shot Wilson will get against Edwin MacPhisto.

Match Description – Regular DQ and count-out rules are not in effect. Submissions, pinfalls and knockouts only count within the ring. The ring will be surrounded on all sides by security guards who will ensure no-one interferes in the match.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

Fireworks!

 

Lights!

 

Smoke!

 

Lasers!

 

*KABOOOOOOM*

 

“APOCALYPSE!” shouts Mark over the roar of the crowd and the blasts of the pyro! The Pepsi Center is absolutely packed to the rafters with rabid SWF fans-

 

“-for what will truly be a memorable night! Longdogger Pete and Perfect Bo have been at each other for weeks, and tonight they settle their differences in a Last Man Standing Match!”

 

“Let’s not forget,” Bobby chimes in, “about the HUGE Ladder-You’re-Fired match between Erek Taylor and the Boston Strangler!”

 

“And what about the main event? Edwin MacPhisto and Chris Wilson have been at each others throats for MONTHS on end, and tonight it all comes to a head in one last showdown - one on one!”

 

The lights go down, and for a moment all is still…

 

“…one last disguise…”

 

*KABOOOOM*

 

The stage erupts in blue flashing lights and pyros as “Spy Hunter” stirs the crowd up into a cheering frenzy!

 

“And we’re about to kick things off with an old pairing going on more time! Chris Raynor and Mercury have met once or twice, but it’s been months since their last match, and it’ll be interesting to see if history repeats itself here tonight.”

 

Mercury appears at the top of the stage, surrounded by the flashing lights and smoky remnants of the show-opening pyro. He flashes the R-X symbol, garnering himself a HUGE response before he begins jogging down the ramp…

 

“The following contest is scheduled for one faaaall! Introducing first, from Los Angeles, Californiaaaa… weighing in at two hundred and thirty three pounds… MERRRCURRYYYYYY!”

 

Another cheer at the mention of his name, and the R-X’er pops to his feet in the middle of the ring. He exchanges pleasantries with Funyon, then mounts the nearest turnbuckle for another X in the air!

 

“The Regenerate King is alive and well!”

 

“Which is more than we can say for Raynor, eh Mark?”

 

“I hope note, Bobby. I haven’t seen him all day, and he didn’t show up at last week’s Smarkdown… I’ve heard talk around the back, maybe a family emergency or something, but…”

 

The house lights un-light, and the stage lights begin to flicker-

 

“It looks like we’re about to find out!”

 

-as the opening riff of “Electra Made Me Blind” begins to play! At the end of four measures, blinding white pyros go off around the entire edge of the stage, and the song kicks it up a few notches, rocking out the Pepsi Center!

 

“His opponent, from Baton Rouge, Louisianaaaa… weighing in at two hundred and fifty pounds…. Chriiiiiisss Rayyyyyynooorrrrr!”

 

Smoke comes billowing out of the stage, and everyone in the arena leans forward, straining to see through it…

 

A raucous cheer as a shadowy figure steps out behind the haze!

 

And a disappointed sigh as it’s Ben Hardy, running down the ramp.

 

“Oh no…”

 

“I knew it!” cries Bobby, a gleam in his eye. “He’s run off! He’s gone! He wasn’t here last week, he’s not here now - he quit!”

 

“I think we would know if he quit, Riley.”

 

Hardy is now getting booed and jeered, poor guy… he slides into the ring and pulls Funyon and Mercury over, and begins the cryptic whispering. Funyon nods his head, a little sad looking, and Mercury looks a little confused. Funyon picks the mic up…

 

“I am sorry to inform you that Chris Raynor… is NOT in the building at this tim-”

 

“Boooooooooooo!”

 

Mercury looks a bit upset, but all Funyon and Hardy can do is shrug their shoulders, and try to endure the torrent the boos raining down on them. Finally Mercury turns to the ropes and vaults over them, landing on the mats outside the ring. He gives a few high fives on his way back up the ramp.

 

“Folks,” Mark begins sincerely, “I apologize for this… this match was booked in advance, it was going to happen, but it looks like Raynor’s not here yet-”

 

“No no no no! Not here AGAIN!”

 

“Can it, Riley… I, uh… I guess, then, we’ve got the tag title match up next, and boy is it a doozy! Danny Williams and Xero against TNT and Frost, in a Bomb Shelter match! Let’s take a look at how Chilly Chilly Bang Bang managed to come into the titles, and how this match came into being!”

 

A promo package pops up, putting attention where it now belongs…

[Guest BA_Baracus]

A black stretch limo pulls up to the front of the sold out Pepsi Center in Denver, Colorado. A non-descript man in a sharp limo driver’s uniform bounds out of the driver’s side and quickly rushes to hold open the rear door for his passenger.

 

“God damn, it feels like I’m riding in the back of a Dodge Dart.” US Champion Tom Flesher spits out as he steps from the back of the car. “Grey Goose instead of Belvedere on the bar, a VCR instead of a DVD player for the t.v. Next time I come to Denver, I’ll see if I can’t find a SUPERIOR limo service.”

 

“Yes sir,” is the embarrassed reply of the driver.

 

Flesher walks away with his title slung over his left shoulder and a gym bag in his right hand. He strolls up to a side door with a sign marked “performers only” hanging above it. He puts his left hand on the knob as a dull BANG can be heard from behind a nearby dumpster. The wrestler turns with a grin on his lips.

 

“C’mon on out, honey. I know you just want to get a closer look at the Superior One. And who knows, maybe the Superior One wants to get a closer look at you.”

 

Flesher lets his bag slide to the ground as he sashays closer to the bin, peering around its sides for the groupie he just knows is waiting there. Well, not quite….

 

***WHAM***

 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” screams Flesher as he takes the head of a pair of industrial strength bolt cutters to the stomach and drops to his knees.

 

One half of the tag team champions, Frost, rises out from behind the dumpster holding the cutters. He looks down at Tom Flesher with a scowl and brings the tool turned weapon up and around and drives it straight down into the tip of Flesher’s skull. A sound like a melon splitting is sickeningly heard as Flesher slumps from his knees to his side on the cold ground. Frost lays in a few kicks to the head in order to open up the wound really well and get the blood flowing nicely.

 

“Give my regards to Ketchum,” are the only stony words Frost utters before spiriting off to leave Flesher semi-conscious and bleeding among bits of rubbish.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

The Pepsi Center looms into view, elucidating the nippy Denver night, as the camera gradually pans the arena. “COCA COLA 4 LIFE” remains sprawled in spray-painted lettering on the side of the building and a gigantic blowup H-Ville Thugg doll lures spectators into the stadium.

 

***BICKETEEBAMOKOBLAMABOOM***

 

The scene cuts inside as a fiery wall of pyro flares up from the stage, signaling the reinitiation of SWF APOCALYPSE! The very same word, “Apocalypse,” flashes across the screen in red, jagged letters and then soars out of view to be replaced by pictures of both Chilly Chilly Bang Bang and Xero and Danny Williams, concentrated glares painted across all their faces. The words “SWF Tag Team Championship” slink just below their images.

 

Stevens: “FROST AND TNT! DANNY WILLIAMS AND XERO! THESE TWO EXTRAVAGENT TEAMS FACE OFF FOR THE SWF TAG TEAM TITLES AS WE RETURN TO SWF APOCAPLYPSE!”

 

Riley: “YAZOO!”

 

Stevens: “…right. We’re back ladies, gents, and everything in between, and ready for more garbage…but garbage is necessary, as our next match is a DUMPSTER…uh…BOMB SHELTER MATCH! That’s right, we’ve recovered an ACTUAL bomb shelter from the set of Dr. Strangelove…”

 

Riley: “Awe fuck that Mark, just tell the truth. It’s Mr. Galatea’s dumpster that he left to Stubby in his will. We painted it gray and we have a bomb shelter!”

 

Stevens: “…you are SO unprofessional.”

 

Riley: “Yep, it’s the life.”

 

Stevens: “Ugh. Well, nonetheless, the ‘bomb shelter’ is located directly next to the stage and the winners must force both of their opponent’s inside and then lock the lid shut!”

 

Riley: “…what kind of gimmick is THAT!? These four deserve better…like a ‘Playmate On a Pole’ match, or a ‘Goat…”

 

Stevens: “Ahem. We go now to ring announcer, Funyon!”

 

The camera cuts over to the ring, where Funyon stand professionally in his usual K-Mart tux. He clears his throat, as he presses the mic to his lips…

 

Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen and Bob Riley, the following contest is a Bomb Shelter match for the SWF Tag Team Championship Belts! Disqualification and count-out rules are NOT in effect and the winners are the team that places their opponents in the Bomb Shelter, located by the ramp, and lock the lid shut! Introducing…”

 

“OBEY YOUR MASTER!”

 

A few grinding riffs of Metallica’s “Master of the Puppets” sound off. The song tears its way through the amped crowd, until it finally fades out and is instantly substituted by Dillinger Escape Plan’s “Calculating Infinity.” The tune blares from the PA system as bursts of fiery red pyro shoot off from the sides of the stage. The music continues for a few seconds as the crowd’s buzz grows with anticipation. “Deathwish” Danny Williams is the first to be seen as he strides onto the stage, a concentrated, grim look on his face. Xero immediately follows his partner and takes a place at his side near the stage’s peak. The duo head down the entrance ramp with a collective glint of bleak in their eyes, yet focused in their actions.

 

Funyon: “…the first competitors in this bout, weighing in at a combined total of 449 pounds, ‘Deathwish’ Danny Williams, and XERRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Stevens: “These two formed a while back, just after a singles match they had together which ended in a time limit draw. They shook hands afterwards in a show of sportsmanship and since then have been on quite a rampage through the Smark Wrestling Federation tag team division!”

 

The devastating duo comes to a stop at the bottom of the entrance ramp and glance back at the side of the stage to observe the so-called ‘bomb shelter.’ The crowd gives a generic collection of faint cheers for the underdogs, obviously picking them over the malicious team of Chilly Chilly Bang Bang. Xero and Danny approach the drab, gray dumpster. Williams pounds a fist on the side of it as Xero fondles an imaginary belt around his waste, predicting a big W for his team.

 

Stevens: “Williams and Xero are evidently shaping up the main focus of this match, the shelter itself. Now that they’ve done that, they continue their march to the ring.”

 

Riley: “The shelter’s lid is already open Mark, ready to accept the losers of this match, Danny Williams and Xero. I can promise you that we won’t be seeing either Frost or TNT inside of the…”

 

Stevens: “CHILLY CHILLY BANG BANG IS IN THE BOMB SHELTER!”

 

Riley: “WHAT!?”

 

Just as Grand Slam implied, a single hand juts up from the dumpster’s depths and latches onto the side of the bin. Taylor Nicholas Thompson launches himself up and out of the metallic waste container! Frost soon follows by slinging a single leg over the dumpster’s side and dropping to the floor. The duo take off down the ramp!

 

Riley: “Chilly Chilly Bang Bang was hiding inside the dumpster the entire time! This is genius!”

 

The two hulking masses, tag belts fastened around their waists, lumber up behind their opponents. Danny looks to hop up to the ring apron, but takes a hint from the fervently jeering crowd, and twirls around to meet a big boot to the face courtesy of Frost! TNT yanks the golden strap from his midsection and lunges at the unsuspecting Xero. He turns around just in time to receive a vicious blow to the head! Xero collapses against the ring, but Thompson gives him no time to recover as he grabs a hold of his wrist for an Irish whip into the nearby ring steps! The sickening sound of Xero’s shoulder driving into the steel draws a sympathetic groan from the Pepsi Center. Frost lifts Danny to his feet and heaves him into the ring. Frost follows suit and kneels next to the floored Williams, pelting his forehead with a few sharp knuckles. Thompson enters the ring still clutching his title belt, while the pained Xero collects himself on the outside. TNT thrusts a few stiff boots into Deathwish’s stomach and instructs Frost to remove his belt. Thompson nudges Williams over with his boot and, with sadistic grins, the two Magnificent Seven members grip their title belts, reel back, and begin to whip them against Danny’s back! Williams yelps out in pain, as his backside grows more and more reddened with each blow. Finally, the two toss their gold to the outskirts of the ring, where Funyon scampers over and snatches them away.

 

*** DING DING DING ***

 

Riley: “Xero is dead on the outside of the ring, a conspicuous amount of crimson already forming across his forehead from that belt shot…and now CCBB have Danny all to themselves!”

 

Stevens: “Keep in mind that Danny IS in the SAME stable as CCBB.”

 

Riley: “Yeah, but what difference does that make? I’m sure they’re friends in everyday life, they all go to Mag7 BBQ’s, but in the ring, it’s all business and tonight their business just happens to be making Deathwish wish he was dead.”

 

Frost and TNT pull Williams off the canvas by his shoulders and shove him into the far ropes. He turns to take the strands in the back and rushes back toward the tag champs. Thompson ducks to catch Danny in the stomach with his head and flings him over his shoulders. Deathwish flips over in midair, allowing Frost to reach up, catch his neck on the way down, and ride the already existing momentum to drive Danny’s neck across his shoulder!

 

Stevens: “WHAT A MANUEVER! FROST CATCHES WILLIAMS OFF THE BACKDROP FOR A NECKBREAKER!”

 

Riley: “If this was a standard match, it would be over. Fortunately for Danny and Xero it’s not. We need a shorter team name to call those guys. (ponders) Deathwish and Xero…Xwish….DeathX….DX…nah, that’s been done.”

 

Xero pulls himself up by the second rope to the ring apron. His face half covered in scarlet blood from the gash right under his hairline. Frost points over at Xero as he gruffly yanks Williams off the mat by his right arm. Thompson lumbers over to meet the grappler, but before he can reach him, Xero uses his blazing speed to hop up to the first ring rope and vault over the top cord with a spinning heel kick to the bridge of TNT’s nose! The two men lie on the canvas in a heap as Frost locks his hands around Deathwish’s waist.

 

Stevens: “Gutwrench suplex by Frost. He’s got Williams up on his shoulder; he’s pausing to check out the wreck on the other side of the ring….”

 

Riley: “Don’t grow a heart now! Screw TNT, Danny’s coming around!”

 

Williams kicks and fidgets his way out of the hold to slip down to the canvas. He pivots around to send a short, stiff kick into Frost’s right knee. The big Icelander folds forward and Deathwish presses his advantage with a series of chops to the throat that drive Frost all the way back to the lower right corner.

 

Stevens: “Xero and TNT are back up on their feet. Xero violently shoves TNT into the near corner and works him over with some chops of his own. I doubt if we see a ‘clean’ break here.”

 

Riley: “And why should we, it’s no dq, no count out, no pins, no submissions and no luck for the challengers.”

 

Xero and Danny look over their shoulders at each other and nod their heads in perfect synch. They whip Frost and Thompson across the ring at each other. The pair lock elbows before they collide and dosey-doo to switch partners. TNT Stinger splashes onto Williams, while Frost creams a surprised Xero with a running shoulder block to the mid-section.

 

Stevens: “A nice turn of events put the champs back in control and it looks like they’re going to go for the same maneuver the challengers just got burned on.”

 

Riley: “Give ‘em a taste of their own medicine!”

 

Frost and TNT whip their opponents out to the center of the ring. Instead of clonking into each other, they do the elbow lock pivot they learned from their opponents. However, TNT dodges out of the way of Xero’s splash attempt and Frost makes Williams eat boot on his blind charge.

 

Riley: “Geniuses! They knew Danny and Xero would use the same counter and already had the counter to the counter planned out. Ring technicians my ass. CCBB own these chumps cold.”

 

Frost and TNT rip their respective opponents out of the corner and face each other. They link each grappler around the waist and flip them up and over for stereo back breakers. Frost and Taylor rest on their knees as the crowd reigns down the boos.

 

Stevens: “You’ve applauded Xero and Williams in the past Riley, why root so hard for the champs now?”

 

Riley: “Xero and Danny are fighting for respect and pride and all that crap. Frost and TNT no what really matters. The swag: the belts, the bread, the booze, the broads.

 

Stevens: “Broads? Evidently you won’t be at the victory party later.”

 

Frost and TNT reach their feet while dragging their adversaries with them. Frost stands back to back with Deathwish and grapevines his arms to hoist him up. He spins around on his axis for an airplane spin. On the opposite side of the ring, Thompson drapes Xero across his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. He screams “KABOOM!” at the audience before flipping Xero out to hit a Diamond Cutter, but Xero had just enough time to recover and glides down to his feet out of the hold. He wraps his right arm up over TNT’s throat and crashes him down with an inverted DDT!

 

Riley: “Plus these damn fans have taken to Williams and Xero. Listen to that noise. You’d think Edwin was throwing a birthday party in the ring with Yurtle the Clown.”

 

Stevens: “Xero uses his speed and agility coupled with TNT’s arrogant stalling to avoid the TKO. What does he have in store for Frost?”

 

Frost finishes his sixth revolution with the dizzy Williams and nonchalantly lobs him off his back to plop into the center of the ring. Frost continues to twirl around and leaps into the air for a spinning leg drop, but Xero greets him with a high leg clothesline to the jaw.

 

Stevens: “XERO GRABBED SOME SKY ON THAT ONE! Both men down, but Xero quickly gains his feet and Frost was more knocked off balance than hurt.”

 

Frost makes it to all fours and starts to rise up on his knees, but the surging Xero knocks him back down with a roundhouse kick to the side of his head. Xero bars the Icelander’s left arm and leans across his body. While the wound on his scalp has clotted, it has left two distinct red streaks on either side of his face, framing his visage like some strange Halloween mask.

 

Stevens: “With the other two competitors still down, Xero takes the opportunity to work a Fujiwara armbar on Frost. Xero and Williams are not letting the special stipulations of this match knock them off of their mat based game plan.”

 

Riley: “Can I call that move a Whammy Bar?”

 

Stevens: “No.”

 

Frost might be down, but he’s not out. He pushes himself up by his free arm and bolts to his feet while Xero lies haphazardly across his back. Frost falls rearward and squashes Xero between his massive body and the canvas.

 

Riley: “Frost puts the whammy on Xero…whammy, whammy, whammy.”

 

Stevens: “Frost’s speed and stamina has really increased in the past couple of weeks as his diligent training pays off. The speedy Xero doesn’t even have a chance to make his feet as Frost swiftly slithers to apply a chinlock.”

 

Riley: “With a knee planted in the man’s lower back as the move should properly be done.”

 

Williams staggers up, still trying to steady his spinning head and regain his bearings as TNT sits slumped in the corner. Deathwish sees Xero in trouble and sprints around behind Frost to fire a series of brutal low kicks into the side of Frost’s ribs and back. The big man tries to hold onto the chinlock, but the pain in the side forces him to let go and he stands up, allowing Xero to slump mildly dazed to the mat.

 

Stevens: “Frost and Williams are engaged in a staredown. There is a lot of bad blood between these two men. Not only did Danny successfully defend the SJL World Title against him, but he won it by brutally punishing Frost’s girlfriend, Sydney Sky.”

 

Riley: “She looked like she had been in a cockfight after that battle.”

 

Stevens: “New rule for you, Bob, don’t say the word ‘cockfight.’”

 

The intimidating fighters are locked in an intense face-off with the audience on the edge of their seats. Williams rears his head and back and shoots a loogie at Frost’s broad chest.

 

Stevens: “The fans ‘ooo,’ impressed with Deathwish’s guts.”

 

Riley: “They can’t be impressed with his brains, because he obviously doesn’t have any.”

 

Frost reels his own head back and fires a thick wad of spit into Williams’ face as the fans ‘ooo’ and cringe again. Deathwish runs his hand down his face to clear off the spittle and flings a bit of it back in Frost’s eyes. Frost blinks as his face flushes a bright red from anger. He throws out a right hand, but Danny puts up his left forearm to block it. Frost tries a left hook, but Williams block that with his other arm and follows with a headbutt to Frost’s chest. He stumbles backwards and trips over the prone form of Xero to go hurtling to the mat. Danny goes to capitalize, but a refreshed TNT revs out of his corner and charges at Williams with a flying forearm to the side of his head. Deathwish goes toppling over the ring ropes and Frost rolls outside as well in order to conclude their showdown. Frost approaches his opponent and unleashes a series of chops! Thompson, not wanting to let Frost have all the fun, checks the wind direction, backs up a bit, and then lunges forward to leap over the top rope with his body outstretched!

 

“BOMBS AWAY!”

 

Thompson lets out a cry of warning, but it’s too late as his colossal figure comes soaring over the top rope in taking out both Danny and his partner!

 

Riley: “And Thompson goes nuclear! Astoundingly ACCURATE aiming there, as he takes out Deathwish in a heartbeat!”

 

Stevens: “And astoundingly crappy aiming as well as he ALSO takes out his partner in crime!”

 

Riley: “Pfft, if Snow White, in order to take out the evil queen, ALSO had to take out Dopey in the process, would she do it? Of course.”

 

Stevens: “All three men on the outside appear to be rather lethargic at this point, that move taking a lot out of TNT himself. They’re beginning to gradually recover, but…XERO SPRINGS OFF THE TOP ROPE WITH A SENTON BOMB ONTO ALL THREE MEN!”

 

Riley: “WHAT A KLUTZ! HE TOOK OUT HIS OWN PARTNER!”

 

Stevens: “But you just said…”

 

Riley: “If Mr. Orange, in order to take out Mr. Blonde, ALSO had to take out Mr. White in the process, would he do it? HELL NO!”

 

Stevens: “You just said the EXACT opposite when TNT did the same thi…”

 

Riley: “THAT was Snow White, Grand Spam, THIS is Reservoir Dogs, two COMPLETELY different things.”

 

Taylor is the first to recover, meandering over to Danny and yanking him to his feet by his short, blonde hair. Thompson slings Williams over the nearby guardrail. Taylor suspends his hand above his head for an instant and whacks it across Danny’s chest with a scintillating smack!

 

*** SLAP ***

 

“WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Deathwish flails in pain, but is given no time to collect himself.

 

*** SLAP ***

 

“WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

*** SLAP ***

 

”WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

A third strike sends Danny down to a sitting position and Thompson grabs a hold of his arm to drag up the entranceway.

 

Stevens: “TNT goes Nature Boy on Danny’s ass!”

 

Riley: “’Nature Boy’ Buddy Rogers?”

 

Stevens: “Flair you dolt. But if you’d pay attention, you’d be able to tell that Taylor is wrestling a smart match here as he very slowly moves Danny closer and closer to the shelter.”

 

Xero barely beats Frost up and leaps into the air, thrusting both of his feet into the man’s mug. The dropkick sends him onto his back, but he quickly spins up to his feet, only to be met with a stiff roundhouse kick to the tip of the chin! He staggers back a bit and retorts with a stiff short clothesline that virtually decapitates his opponent! Xero crumples to the jet black mats that line the outskirts of the ring area. Frost grips Xero’s forearm and tows him to the side of the ramp and toward the dumpster area.

 

Stevens: “Frost is transporting Xero directly to the shelter while TNT is carrying Danny up the ramp…how does the dynamite warrior plan to get his opponent into the bomb shelter if he’s about one story above it, almost two?”

 

Riley: “Well, he COULD shoot Danny out of a cannon…or just push his adversary from the stage…one of the two.”

 

Stevens: “Either way, both Danny and Xero are showing signs of life…”

 

Xero writhes around, resisting Frost and attempting to grab onto something. Frost feels him squirming and clutches Xero’s baldhead in between his two massive hands to bring to his feet. Xero struggles away and nails Frost in his ribcage with a sidekick! The arctic grappler reaches out his broad arms to grasp his smaller opponent, but Xero ducks out of the way and sprints for the shelter. Frost tracks after his quarry. Xero reaches the dumpster, pounces a full six feet up, plants his feet on the edge of the garbage container and springs back at Frost with an Asai moonsault! Cameras flash sporadically as the 199-pound lightweight soars through the air. He finally making collision with Frost and the two fall onto the unforgiving concrete. Xero kips to his feet and lets out a roar of celebration and the crowd responds with a bombardment of deafening cheers!

 

Stevens: “What an aerial maneuver by Xero, who uses his superior speed to outmatch Frost’s brute strength.”

 

Riley: “Meanwhile, TNT is desperately attempting to keep Danny down with a few axe handles to his former mentor’s back, but to no avail!”

 

Williams forges onward, through Taylor’s various means of offense, until he finally makes it to his feet. Thompson compromises by instantly slicing his knee through the air, aiming for Deathwish’s gut. Danny evades the attempted move and torques around to cinch a firm rear waistlock! Thompson quickly realizes what’s ensuing and desperately attempts to fight out of the move, jerking to the left and right fruitlessly. Williams lets a slight smirk slip, one of his front teeth noticeably absent. He quickly overcomes this feeling of joy and regains his usual “no nonsense” expression as he viciously throws Thompson up and over his head with a German suplex! Being on the slanted ramp, Danny barely has time to release the explosive one before he lands rigidly on his back and Taylor’s vulnerable cranium shatters against the metallic slope.

 

Stevens: “An extremely brutal release German suplex onto that ramp.”

 

Riley: “TNT could have been killed! I vote that from now on all arenas must have carpet flooring! And not cheap motel carpet, fluffy carpet damn it!”

 

Stevens: “Well, at least then I wouldn’t have to wear shoes while commentating.”

 

Riley: “And I wouldn’t have to wear pants!”

 

Stevens: “Shush right there. These two have history folks. They were once a mentor and student team…hell…they’re still in the same stable, these two are STILL a team of sorts.”

 

Danny stands and ambles over to the recipient of his last move. He intertwines his fingers in between the shady brown dreadlocks of TNT, who propels a single clenched fist into Dan’s jaw! Danny reels back, stopping just at the edge of the ramp. His eyes worryingly dart behind him, where no option but a ten foot drop into a dumpster is available. Thompson throws a wild haymaker to complete the finishing touches, but Danny steps to the side and Taylor swings through nothing but air. Thompson teeters on the edge for a second and then swings around to face Deathwish, but Williams doesn’t hesitate for even for an instant…

 

*** BAM ***

 

Stevens: “ELBOW!”

 

Williams plunges an incredibly stiff elbow into the temple of TNT, sending him even closer to the end of the proverbial plank.

 

*** BAM ***

 

Stevens: “ELBOW!”

 

One even stiffer is driven across TNT’s jaw and Thompson’s head snaps back, a ribbon of blood shooting out from his mouth.

 

*** BAM BAM BAM ***

 

Stevens: “ELBOW ELBOW ELBOOOOOW!”

 

Three more to the side of the head and Taylor is a woozy corpse, just managing to hold an upright posture. The towering giant that is Taylor Nicholas Thompson sways back and forth, almost leaning on Danny for support, with a river of crimson trickling down his chin. His eyes glaze over and his overall dazed and confused manner signals that all it will take is the slightest nudge…

 

*** ~BAM~ ***

 

Stevens: “BIG ELBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Riley: “Damn it, would you shut up, you’re sounding like the Japanese.”

 

…to put the nail in the coffin. With one final elbow, that nearly demolishes TNT’s chin, the explosive one is sent off of the side of the stage, plummeting ten feet downward to his rapidly approaching demise! The lifeless body spirals down with camera bulbs sizzling off to illuminate the image, until…

 

*** CLANG ***

 

The immense combatant lands inside the dumpster, his fall only cushioned by a few nameless metallic objects; such as a VCR, a Queen album, and an aluminum baseball bat.

 

 

 

 

 

Aluminum baseball bat?

 

Stevens: “OH MY GOD! TNT JUST FELL AN ENTIRE TEN FEET OR MORE, WITH NOTHING TO CUSHION HIS LANDING!”

 

Riley: “Oh nonsense! That frying pan surely broke his fall! …I hope.”

 

Stevens: “TNT is a bloody mess, but appears to be gradually reacquiring his senses! Xero has lifted Frost up, one arm across his shoulder, and is trying to get the Iceman from Iceland up and into the bomb shelter! He’s almost got him this could be the victory! Danny can do nothing at this point, except for stand awestruck and stare down at the climatic happenings!”

 

Danny watches from the ‘heavens’ as Xero huffs with perspiration, insistently attempting to get Frost into the shelter. With one last strain, he shoves Frost as forcefully as he can and the grappler rolls up and over into the dumpster, as an “Owe, my spleen!” can be heard from TNT. Xero turns around to face the audience and raises his arms in the air. Instead of rabid shouts of approval however, he receives a single collective “LOOK BEHIND YOU!” Xero turns to loo…

 

*** CRACK ***

 

…but a now conscious Taylor Thompson awaits, bunting the metallic shaft that is his baseball bat across the “King of the DDT’s” forehead! Xero falls limply to the ground in a bloody heap, the familiar crimson liquid gushing from his head anew. Taylor hops out of the Shelter, and prepares to deliver another shot, but Danny thinks quickly and sprints down the entrance ramp. Williams isn’t Mach Five fast though, giving TNT time to raise his bat into the air and smash it across Xero’s ribcage!

 

Stevens: “THOMPSON IS UNMERCILESS WITH THAT BALL BAT! I wonder if the tag champs filled the bomb shelter with objects themselves for such an occasion or if the production crew was just tempting the fates.”

 

Riley: “Well, I saw a Queen album in there, so I’m guessing the Suicide King is working as a road agent this week. That’s what he would want in a bomb shelter.”

 

Williams trots up to Thompson, who rises up from Xero to parry at him with the aluminum bat. Deathwish ducks back and puts his guard up, looking for some hole of attack.

 

Stevens: “TNT is fencing very cavalier at Danny Williams. During his brief apprenticeship with the more seasoned veteran you would have thought that Deathwish would have taught him to be more serious in big matches.”

 

Riley: “Taylor just wants everyone to think he’s goofy, so they under estimate him, unlike MacPhisto who really is full goose bozo. TNT is always on top of things.”

 

Xero crawls behind TNT on all fours. He raises a shaky forearm up under the man’s legs and cheap shots him in the testicles. The crowd “ooo’s” with standard sympathy, even for such a despised heel.

 

Stevens: “He was certainly on top of that nut shot.”

 

Riley: “I’m sure that’s all part of his much greater plan.”

 

Thompson lets the bat slip from his fingers as he sinks to his knees. Williams recovers the aluminum baton and thrusts the fat end of the bat into Thompson’s already battered chin to knock him over to the floor. Xero staggers to his feet and Danny points for him to take TNT’s shoulders.

 

Stevens: “Williams takes TNT by the ankles and this makeshift team of only a few weeks ago are about to legitimize themselves in a big way if they can toss Thompson in the shelter.”

 

Williams and Xero waddle near the dumpster with Taylor stretched out between them. They swing him back and forth to gain a little oomph to throw him up and inside the gray bin.

 

One swing.

 

Two swings.

 

Three swin---

 

*** WHAM ***

 

Stevens: “FROST JUST POPPED UP OUT OF NOWHERE TO NAIL DEATHWISH WITH THE VCR!”

 

Riley: “I told you TNT had a plan.”

 

Bits of electronic parts fly out as the VCR dents in on the bottom. Danny collapses to his side and lays to the right of the improvised bomb shelter. Xero lets go of Thompson’s shoulders to send him clunking to the floor and charges at Frost. Xero tries to catch Frost off guard with a right hand as he stares down at Williams, but to no avail. Frost swings the video player around to block the shot and Xero slams his hand into it with a crunch of bone and gasps from the audience.

 

Stevens: “A CRUSHING BLOW! XERO’S HAND COULD BE BROKEN!”

 

Riley: “VCR’s are so outdated. Get a DVD player. I want a quality bomb shelter.”

 

Xero flounders to his right and trips off holding his aching right hand with his left. Frost drops the VCR into the dumpster and steps over it with his long gait back to the floor.

 

Stevens: “Are you making light of what could be a very serious injury to Xero?”

 

Riley: “If it’s not my injury, it’s not my problem.”

 

Frost holds up a fist to the crowd and they jeer vehemently. Frost gloats at just the reaction he wanted and leans over to check on Thompson.

 

Riley: “You know, TNT’s chin is probably little more than mush now and I don’t see you sobbing over that.”

 

Stevens: “Oh boo-hoo, TNT receives some of his own destructive medicine for once. Let me weep.”

 

Frost pulls TNT to his feet and gives him a light slap on the cheek to wake him up. Thompson’s eyes pop wide and he shakes loose of Frost’s grasp. Blood is dripping from his chin and his goat-tee is invisible to the point where it might have been ripped off of his face to leave the bloody hole. The fierce Icelander barks orders at Thompson, who turns toward Xero.

 

Riley: “Frost, a true general on the apocalyptic fields of destruction will lead his troops…er…troop to victory yet.”

 

Stevens: “TNT runs toward Xero. He turns, but still dazed by his injured hand. KNEE LIFT! TNT has him doubled over.”

 

Taylor shifts to in front of Xero and leans over to hook his waist. He pulls the man up with his skull pointing toward the concrete floor. Frost lopes over and puts his hands on Xero’s feet as TNT plummets down.

 

Stevens: “SPIKED PILEDRIVER ON THE CONCRETE! XERO HAS TO BE OUT COLD!”

 

Riley: “Frost scoops the loser up with one arm, ONE ARM, and flips him into the bomb shelter. It looks like Williams is about ready to have his deathwish answered.”

 

TNT jerks Danny up by his right shoulder and pulls him out to a clear spot on the floor. A few nicks and cuts line Danny’s forehead while a few stray metallic scraps litter his hair. Thompson puts his opponent in a standing head scissors and flips him upside down. However, before Frost can grab his feet, Williams pulls a leg back and jams the heel of his boot into the tip of Thompson’s chin. With a total body shiver, TNT loses his grasp on Deatwish and falls back. Danny catches himself on his hands and rolls forward into a standing position in front of Frost. He raises his arm and carries though his building forward motion.

 

Stevens: “HOOKING CLOTHESLINE! Frost splats back into the side of the bomb shelter. Williams with a surprising display of agility, but nothing should surprise us at this point.”

 

Riley: “Speak for yourself, monkey boy, if I have to give Williams any credit, it’s that he’s tougher than a steak prepared by Annie Eclectric. Damn lesbians, can’t cook.”

 

Danny lays the boots to Frost’s face as he lies on the floor. Frost tries to roll out of the way, but Williams follows and drops an axe handle to his back.

 

Stevens: “Williams going for a stepover toe hold…he’s cinching a facelock…YES! HE’S GOT THE DEATHLOCK ON AND FROST HAS NOWHERE TO GO!”

 

Riley: “Suits him. Danny has to get him into the shelter, not tap out.”

 

Stevens: “But weakening the powerhouse that is Frost while both partners are out is actually sound strategy by the brilliant ring technician.”

 

The camera pans around to catch Frost aggressively pounding the ground, tapping out, but as Bobby Riley observed, it does Williams little good. Deathwish cranks on the hold with a brutal absence of malice, looking on the verge of snapping the big man’s spine in half. Thompson crawls back into the spotlight highlighting the battle area and struggles to his feet. He eyes Danny working over his partner and then scans the floor for his trusty baseball bat. He finds it nearby and slips a toe underneath it to kick up to him with gusto. He advances on Williams with a gleam in his eye, but….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stevens: “XERO COMES FLYING OUT OF THE BOMB SHELTER! HE LAUNCHES HIMSELF UP AND OVER WITH A FLYING CLOTHESLINE! THOMPSON’S DOWN AND XERO IS UP!”

 

Riley: “UP YOURS! That was a lucky fluke for Deathwish. He’s not the planners…”

 

Stevens: “…schemers and cheats.”

 

Riley: “Whatever…that Chilly Chily Bang Bang are.”

 

Xero scrambles to his feet, his whole face and upper part of his chest stained with blood now. He shakes his hand out to check the feeling and winces from a quick spasm of pain. The daredevil spies the nearby guardrail and darts toward it. He pops up to it with a twist to temporary stand on its narrow beam and then leaps off to soar head over heels and wallop TNT full in the chest!

 

Stevens: “ABSOLUTE XERO OFF THE GUARDRAIL!”

 

Riley: “DAMN IT! THOMPSON IS OUT COLD!”

 

Xero pulls himself up and grabs TNT by the ankles. He drags the man limply over to the shelter and locks him around the waist to pick up.

 

Stevens: “Xero is struggling to get the bigger man up and in the shelter. He’s got him lying on the lip of the bin…YES! He’s got Thompson in. One down and one to go before we have new tag champs.”

 

Riley: “But Frost is even big and heavier than Thompson for these two small fries. (ponders a name for Williams and Xero again) The Vanilla Midgets? Nah, that’s been done.”

 

Xero leans up against the dumpster and wheezes for air from the exertion of hoisting up the near seventy pounds heavier Thompson. He uses his own sweat to wipe some of the dried blood out of his eyes and heads over toward his partner and the big Icelander.

 

Stevens: “Frost is trying to power out, but Williams has his whole left side hooked and he can’t gain any leverage. Xero grabs Frost’s free leg…he’s twisting it….NO!”

 

Riley: “A DOUBLE DEATHLOCK!”

 

Xero slides his arm under Danny’s and the two men proceed to ratchet Frost’s neck so far back it almost touches the small of is back.

 

Stevens: “Frost’s body is so wide that they actually have the room to both put on the maneuver at the same time. If Frost was tapping before…”

 

Riley: “I’ve seen people get broken bones from just ONE guy slapping them in a move like that. This is sick and this match needs to be stopped.”

 

Stevens: “Only one thing can stop it and we might not be too far away from it.”

 

Williams and Xero let go of their foe and stand up. Frost curls up into the fetal position and growls in agony. Xero jerks Frost to his knees and Williams leans over to hook him across his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. With Xero’s assistance, he scoops Frost up and promptly falls back into the shelter with him. Danny lets go of the grappler and plunks to the floor as Xero closes the lid!

 

Riley: GOD DAMN IT! THOSE TWO FUCKERS PLAY TO THE CROWD AND CHEAT THEIR BALLS OFF….”

 

Stevens: “HOLD ON, BOBBY, THE MATCH ISN’T OVER! The rules clearly state that the lid must be shut and locked, but they can’t find the lock!”

 

Williams and Xero frantically scavenge the floor and adjacent area looking for the lock to the dumpster. Referee Sexton Hardcastle enters from behind the stage area and shakes his head with his hands up in the air. Williams curses and punches the side of the dumpster as Xero scrambles up onto the stage and slithers behind the backstage curtain.

 

Stevens: “Xero appears headed for the Gorilla position to see if he can find something to lock the lid with, as Deathwish berates Sexton Hardcastle.”

 

Riley: “We have rules and regulations for a reason, because you can always find a loop hole. If they can’t lock it, the champs are still the champs! YES!”

 

Williams takes Hardcastle by the shirt collar and pulls a fist back. The fans cheer him on for the ref’s shotty work in losing the lock. Deathwish hears a bang and a whoosh behind him and pivots around to find…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Riley: “WATCH HIM EXPLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODE!”

 

TNT hurtles over the edge of the bomb shelter and back to the floor. Williams charges with a clothesline, but Taylor puts his head down and lunges to blast Danny with a spear! Williams slams back into the stage and the two men pop back out from the force of impact. Thompson waistlocks Williams and sets him up for a sideslam.

 

*** THUMP ***

 

Stevens: “TNT has had plenty of time to recover in the bomb shelter while Xero and Deathwish worked Frost over. HERE COMES XERO!”

 

The fans pop as Xero reappears from behind the curtain with a length of thin, fiber optic cable in his hand. He sees Thompson standing up from slamming Danny and instinctively sprints to the edge of the stage.

 

Stevens: “THAT’S A TEN FOOT LEAP AND TEN FEET DOWN!”

 

Riley: “WHICH WILL PUT HIM SIX FEET UNDER IF HE MISSES!”

 

Xero soars feet first toward Thompson as the flashbulbs pop once more. He catches the Explosive One around the neck and attempts a head scissors takedown, but TNT swings with the move while keeping his feet and plows the high flyer into the front of the dumpster.

 

*** CLANG ***

 

Stevens: “BOTH MEN DOWN! XERO IS HOLDING HIS HEAD! THAT CUT MIGHT BE REOPENED!”

 

Riley: “Stupid high risk maneuver by Xero there. He’s got the speed, but not the power to knock a guy like TNT off his feet without the proper leverage.”

 

Stevens: “Frost is still out cold in the bomb shelter and all four men are down. Sexton Hardcastle has run off, hopefully to find the lock for the shelter.”

 

Riley: “Hard to say, Spongebob Squarepants is on and he never misses an episode.”

 

Thompson drags himself across the floor a few inches and retrieves the bit of cable that Xero dropped. He rolls over to half lie on the man’s back and proceeds to choke him out with it.

 

Stevens: “Thompson chokes Xero out with that piano wire thin cable. I’m thinking that Xero was going to attempt to tie the cover shut with that.”

 

Riley: “I’m surprised he could be that ingenuitive, but it’s really working for him now isn’t it?”

 

Xero spits and sputters as he strives for air and rakes his fingers across the metal dumpster in an attempt to get away. Williams slithers along the floor on his belly and snatches the baseball bat in passing. He limply throws himself on Taylor’s back and bars the bat over the grappler’s throat.

 

Stevens: “Deathwish makes the save and it is obvious that these men are exhausted. They have all shown decent endurance in the past, but this encounter will test their limits.”

 

Riley: “Let’s see here, do you side with the team of the amateur boxer that trains in the frozen tundra and his well conditioned partner from sunny California or the known drug abuser and a guy who broke his leg in a car wreck and hails from dark Hungary?”

 

TNT rolls over on his back and on top of Williams, who continues to crank back on Thompson’s neck with the back. TNT fires a few weak elbows to Danny’s exposed side to make him release his hold. Taylor flops over to his face while Williams holds his side.

 

Stevens: “THERE’S A HAND REACHING OUT OF THE BOMB SHELTER!”

 

Riley: “LIKE ALL GOOD PSYCHOPATHS, FROST IS HARD TO PUT DOWN!”

 

Frost gingerly pulls himself up to lay sideway on the edge of the dumpster and then drops to the floor. He teeters around to get his bearings and stretches out some to relieve the lingering pain of the double Deathlock.

 

Riley: “Frost has had himself a nice little nap, time to sound the warning sirens, THE BOMB IS ABOUT TO DROP!”

 

The crowd jeers as Frost yanks Xero to his feet and tucks his head under his armpit. Frost picks Xero up with a handful of tights and powers him into the floor!

 

Stevens: “ICE PICK!”

 

Riley: “Not to mention that he wasn’t already working on Excedrin headache #63 as it was.”

 

Frost picks Xero up and tucks his head under his arm a second time!

 

Stevens: “HE’S GOING FOR ANOTHER ONE!”

 

Riley: “If Xero wasn’t already brain dead he will be now.”

 

Frost raises a defiant fist to the fans before snapping Xero back and into the concrete once again. Xero lays face down, a useless sack of flesh, as Frost sits up and shoots his fist into the air.

 

Stevens: “OH MY GOD! HE’S PICKING XERO UP AGAIN!”

 

Riley: “I LOVE IT! I LOVE IT! I LOVE IT!”

 

Frost cinches Xero for another DDT, with only Frost’s facelock keeping him on his feet. Williams slowly rises to his knees across the way and pushes himself up with the use of the ball bat. He points a finger at Frost and spits in his direction, blood mixed with saliva. Frost waves him to come for him and Danny starts hobbling in his direction.

 

Stevens: “WILLIAMS SAVES HIS PARTNER FROM A THIRD ICE PICK BY UTILIZING FROST’S PERSONAL HATRED FOR HIM!”

 

Riley: “I HATE IT! I HATE IT! I HATE IT!”

 

Deathwish makes a weak slash at Frost with the bat, but he grabs the lumber and uses it to sling Danny face first into the shelter. Williams bounces off with a shimmery clang and Frost takes his tilted back head under his arm for an inverted DDT. But a cognizant Williams wraps his left leg around Frost’s right and spins out of the hold and into Frost’s chest. He grabs the Icelander’s cranium and jams the man’s chin down into the top of his head as both men hit the floor.

 

Stevens: “Jawbreaker by Williams slows it down! He’s shaking his head stunned, but still game!”

 

Riley: “Good, because TNT is back up.”

 

Danny sits on his knees and Thompson runs in with a knee lift to his face. Williams folds back and Thompson slumps over the dumpster to take a breather. He turns back around and puts the boots to Deathwish.

 

Stevens: “Frost is stirring from the jawbreaker while Xero is still totally out of it.”

 

Riley: “And we still don’t know where the lock to the shelter is, although I have my suspicions.”

 

Frost pulls Williams up by his hair as he takes his feet. He points for TNT to go up on the stage and he runs up it the best he can. Frost puts Williams in a standing headscissors and flips him up against his chest.

 

Stevens: “They’re setting up the Avalanche! TNT is going to drop a Shell Shock from the STAGE as Frost hits the Early Winter on the CONCRETE!”

 

Riley: “This has gone beyond simple winning for these two. They want to teach Williams and Xero a lesson. Don’t mess with your own stable mates.”

 

Stevens: “Xero isn’t in the Magnificent 7.”

 

Riley: “This can be his initiation.”

 

Thompson makes the top of the stage and steps to the corner. Frost stumbles from the weight of holding Williams up so long and his back twitches. He falls with Danny landing to straddle him on top.

 

Stevens: “They took too much time and Frost was too weak from the Deathlock! He couldn’t hold Danny Williams, who is now showering the punches down on his old enemy.”

 

Thompson sits down on the stage and drops to the floor below. Williams senses TNT behind him and gets off of Frost to meet him. Taylor charges with a forearm, but Danny cuts him short with a kick to the shins. Williams continues to drive TNT back with a series of shin kicks and then delivers a rabbit punch to his chin. Thompson’s eyes roll back in his head and he drops like a sack of potatoes to the ground.

 

Stevens: “Williams pops him right in that bloody chin. The nerve endings there have to be raw and very vulnerable.”

 

Riley: “Every square inch of these guys are vulnerable at this point, it wouldn’t surprise me…”

 

Stevens: “Bobby, I have something important to tell you.”

 

Riley: “What?”

 

Stevens: “Xero appears to be moving.”

 

Riley: “AH HELL!”

 

Xero fidgets on the floor, slowly gaining his senses back. Williams shoves TNT’s head between his legs and flips him up against his chest before releasing him with a slam back down to the unforgiving concrete.

 

Stevens: “Release deathbomb! Ironic that Frost doesn’t get his powerbomb, but Williams does.”

 

Riley: “Only if Williams did the exact same variation and hit Frost with it. That’s irony, Alanis Morrisette.”

 

Frost tries to make his feet as Williams shuffles over to him. He clubs a few forearms down into Frost’s back to keep him bent over and adjusts into a standing headscissors.

 

Stevens: “He’s going to try the Deathbomb on Frost, but can he get him up at this point of the match?”

 

The fans root for Williams who takes a deep breath before trying to get Frost up. Williams’ face suddenly blanches with horror as he feels the rumble beneath him. Frost bucks like a stallion and backdrops Danny up and over into the shelter with a crunch! Frost drops to one knee, covered in perspiration. He looks to his left and spots Xero inching his way up by the side of the bin.

 

Stevens: “Williams takes the ride into the shelter and onto the debris inside. Xero is far from recovered, but he’s going to have to give it a try to keep his team alive.”

 

Riley: “Alive being the operative word here.”

 

Xero pulls himself up right, but still hanging on the lip of the dumpster. Frost cuts behind to the grab the shelter lid and slams it down on Xero’s already busted hand. The fans verbally cringe as Xero pulls his hand out and thrashes about wildly.

 

Riley: “Just like the clock you can’t set, VCR’s will haunt you forever.”

 

Stevens: “Frost busted Xero’s hand with that VCR earlier and he’s working that to his advantage now. TNT is struggling up again and the champs close in on their fading prey.”

 

Frost lumber over from the left as TNT stalks in from the right. Xero crouches down on his knees, wincing from the pain in his hand. Both of his opponents loom over him ready to strike when…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*** CRACK ***

 

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” bemoans the fans.

 

Stevens: “A double low blow from Xero! A forearm shot to the testicles of both men have them sinking to their knees!”

 

Riley: “You don’t attack a man’s junk. Not even I would do that.”

 

Stevens: “Don’t make me pull The Best of Bobby Riley out of the bargain bin at Best Buy to show these people.”

 

Xero collars Thompson and deftly pulls him up to his feet and slams him back with a wicked DDT!

 

Stevens: “IT’S THE PURGATORY! AND XERO HAS FOUND HIS SECOND WIND!”

 

Riley: “I still want to see him get Frost in the shelter by himself at this point.”

 

Thompson lies on his back with his eyes closed as Xero grabs a handful of tights and jerks him up by a front face lock. The adrenaline filled wrestler falls back from the weight of TNT and suplexes him into the dumpster! Xero stumbles forward and back toward Frost. He tugs Frost up in order to go for another Purgatory, but Frost powers out by standing straight up. Xero hovers a few feet above the ground as Frost shakes his head loose of the man’s grasp and shifts to hook him underneath the shoulders.

 

Riley: “Frost counters The Purgatory into the Ice Shelf!”

 

Stevens: “Not yet he hasn’t!”

 

Xero spins out of the hold and to stand back to front with Frost and reaches up to place his chin on his shoulder for a stunner. Frost jabs his forearms into Xero’s back and pushes him away before he can snap off the move. Xero clanks awkwardly into the dumpster and comes tripping back to Frost on the ricochet. In one swift move, Frost reaches over top Xero to grab his waist and bring him up against his chest before hammering him into the concrete floor!

 

Riley: “Oh, I’m sorry. He didn’t get the Ice Shelf. He had to settle for the EARLY WINTER!”

 

Frost holds onto Xero’s waist as he stands up and pitches the man into the shelter. At that moment, Danny Williams pulls himself up with both hands on the adjacent stage and makes the platform. Frost shouts at him and Williams looks over his shoulder and shoots Frost the finger.

 

Stevens: “I think Danny is saying that he’s number one.”

 

Riley: “Why won’t these losers DIE?!”

 

Stevens: “Williams is waving the Icelandic Iceman up and he heads for the ramp. Smart move by Deathwish to stall for time as both he and Xero try to recover.”

 

Riley: “And TNT.”

 

Frost lumbers up the ramp with sluggish steps, soaked in sweat and chest heaving for air. Williams is equally as tired, but giving up has never been in his vocabulary, from the demons of alcohol to the ravages of a trashed ankle. The two men circle each other with Williams standing with his back to the stage side near the bomb shelter. The two men eye each other as the audience waits with nervous excitement to see the outcome of this second showdown.

 

Riley: “FROST CHARGES WITH THE HELL FREEZES OVER!”

 

Stevens: “DANNY’S GOING TO DODGE IT!”

 

Riley: “NO! IT’S THOMPSON!”

 

TNT spring out of the dumpster and onto the stage with a knee clip as Frost drills Deathwish with his clothesline! Williams stumbles back and takes the Nestea plunge into the open bin.

 

Stevens: “THE DOUBLE GOOZLE! BOTH MEN ARE IN THE DUMPSTER, BUT THEY STILL DON’T HAVE A LOCK!”

 

Riley: “I don’t think that will be a problem.”

 

TNT drops back down as Frost bends and skips to the floor himself. He takes the shelter cover as TNT reaches into the pocket of his cargo pants and pulls out a shiny, gold Masterlock.

 

Stevens: “TNT HAD THE LOCK IN HIS PANTS THE WHOLE TIME! THERE WAS NO WAY DANNY AND XERO COULD WIN!”

 

Riley: “If only they were smarter.”

 

Frost bangs the lid shut and TNT slides the lock through the latch for it and snaps it close.

 

Funyon: “Your winners and STILL SWF tag team champions, CHILLY…CHILLY…BANG…BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANG!”

 

Stevens: “That’s dirty! That’s underhanded!”

 

Riley: “That’s brilliant! Remember they came out of the shelter to begin with; they had this whole match staked out and all the angles covered. Not only are they strong brutes, but cunning masterminds as well. That’s what makes them one of the best tag teams we’ve ever had.”

 

Stevens: “If not one of the most honest and even handed. I hope they are satisfied with this cheap win.”

 

Riley: “I don’t doubt it.”

 

Frost and TNT both slouch against the front face of the bomb shelter and slide down its surface to have a seat on the floor. Thompson extends his hand to Frost and his weary partner limply shakes it. The negative crowd noise continues to pierce the night as the camera fades to the next bit of ppv faire.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

*** As the Pepsi Center is rocking with emotion for the huge PPV at hand, we take a look backstage, more precisely inside the XF9 dressing room. We see a close-up shot of Sarah Leavenworth talking to an unseen person, as she appears apologetic. ***

 

Sarah: Listen, I'm sorry, I did the best I could but I was unable to get them to book you in a match for tonight … I know you feel bad, but I had no choice … No title shots, no hardcore match, no tag match, nothing … not even the curtain jerker … I'm really sorry.

 

*** Camera slowly pans over to the left … finding Tod deKindes, leaning against a wall, furrowing his brow and taking in what the manager just said. Knowing full well he wasn't gonna get to wrestle at the PPV, he came anyway to morally support his comrades, clad in his snazzy out-of-ring attire; consisting of loose leather pants and tight fitting Hardy style black t-shirt. He stares at the ceiling in annoyance, and then finally addresses Sarah. ***

 

Tod: Do you have ANY idea what type of mentality I'm trying to implant in this group, Sarah?

 

Sarah: Win at all costs?

 

Tod: That's right. And how can I do that, when I'm not booked on a *PAY-PER-VIEW*!?

 

Sarah: I did my best, ok? I understand you're upset, but it's hard to make an impact as a group when we have almost everybody breathing down our necks. But tonight, we should concentrate on what's at hand: Almost everybody in XF9 has a big match tonight…

 

Tod: But me.

 

Sarah: We need to make an impact tonight. Annie's got a chance to bring back the Hardcore title, and Ash has sworn on his baby's HEAD that he was bringing home the U.S. title tonight. Erek's FUTURE in this company is in question! We gotta stick together, Tod … Tod?

 

*** He doesn't answer right away, as he seems to be staring intently into nothingness, contemplating his next move. ***

 

Tod: Make an impact, huh? … Well, you know what? Tonight … It's the Apocalypse ... I think I'm just gonna have to make my OWN impact tonight … Tell the guys good luck.

 

*** With that, he walks out of the dressing room, leaving a perplexed Sarah. ***

[Guest BA_Baracus]

Outside, in Denver Colorado. A peaceful summers evening, the Pepsi Arena is glowing, brilliant white lights shining out from every corner, creating quite a sight. Inside, we can hear the roar of the fans as they eagerly await more action to take place. Like greedy little children, they ask for more servings of blood and violence... They cheer for it, with good reason.

 

It's a beautiful thing.

 

But they'll get much more than they asked for...

 

The fans yell like there is no tomorrow, holding up their signs, hoping they appear on camera. The people at ringside smile, as they watch them, feeding off the crowds excitement as this night gears up into one of the best Smarks Wrestling Federation Pay Per Views ever.

 

Those smiles soon disappear. The screen begins to garble, turning dark, black and grey. Provocative images of war, riots, general mayhem and destruction play in the background, as the fans cheering comes to an abrupt halt, as they turn to watch the giant screen, appalled by the images layed before them.

 

Suddenly, everything goes black, for one, solitary, second...

 

Before everything appears again, still under a black and white haze, as the industrial metal of Stabbing Westwards "Save Yourself" begins to play. Not wasting anytime at all, Sacred walks out, black rings under his eyes as the camera watches them dart from person to person in the audience, giving each crowd member a frightening glare. He walks down the ramp, tight lipped, back up straight, determined to start the match. Funyon stands decked out in a snappy tuxedo, ready to make the introductions, made more uncomfortable by Sacred's stare. "Ladies and gentle, the next match on the card is a NO Disqualification Matchup! And it can be won by pinfall, submission or knockouts in the ring. Introducing first, from Adelaide Australia, standing six foot one and weighing two hundred and thirty one pounds... he is a member of Creative Control and one crazy Aussie.... Please welcome, SACRED!"

 

Any thought of a cheerful welcome goes flying out the window, as the fans silence is broken in a mix of cheers and boos for the Australian walking to the ring, but the response is negative for the most part. Sacred just ignores the fans all together and slides into the ring, getting to his feet and immediately turning around, arms to his sides, waiting for his opponent.

 

"A picture of concentration and focus..." Stevens notes, watching Sacred carefully. "His only intention is to start this match, and unfortunately, dismantle Renegade."

 

Riley replies, "I wonder if Renegade's knows quite what he's getting himself into... Sacred managed to defeat the rookie a week or so back, but in the process, Renegade punished Sacred, nearly giving him internal bleeding, and after Sacred's address to the world during the week, I feel sorry for the guy! He's going to have to keep a cool head and stick to his game plan, which may very well be to focus on Sacred’s ribs once again, which still look heavily taped up."

 

"Remember Riley, he's a rookie in the big time, but he's been brawling for a long time, he knows what's needed to get the job done." Stevens reminds his partner.

 

"You never know what will happen though, a big time Pay Per View match, it may become too much for him! Choke!"

 

"PICK UP THE PACE!"

 

The blaring vocals come over the P.A, as Slipknot's "(SIC)" starts to sound, prompting a great reaction for the SWF rookie. Most cheer for the Renegade Masta as he walks out, walking to the centre of the ramp, looking down at the steel... before raising his arm, prompting a burst of pyro from either side of the entranceway, and the crowd's reaction grows louder. Renegade ignores the fans though, shaking his head and shouting to Sacred, as the Aussie growls and watches his opponent continue down the ramp. Funyon booms to the fans in attendance, "And his opponent making his way to the ring, from New York City! Standing six foot six and weighing two hundred and sixty pounds... he is a member of X-Force Nine... Break it down, for the Renegade Masta! He is, RENEGADE!"

 

The cheers pick up as his name is called out, and Rene feels a little overwhelmed at the response. Sacred just looks at the fans and shakes his head, cruel intentions in mind as, unlike in their last encounter, Sacred lets Renegade slide into the ring, and begin stretching for the match.

 

"Renegade doesn't seem disturbed by Sacred, he has to put the loss he suffered out of his mind and concentrate on getting one back at Sacred." Stevens says.

 

"There's a lot at stake though, people have been quoted as saying the winner of this match would be in line for a push up the card, and Renegade has already come so close to defeating Sacred, he may just defeat him tonight... I bloody well hope not though! Go my Aussie friend!"

 

"Sacred has to keep his emotions in check, and not attack wildly Renegade will take advantage. Sacred hasn't been that impressive since returning, so we may just see a big upset here..." Stevens replies.

 

Both men stand in opposite corners, glaring at each other, both men can't wait for the match to start. The ref feels a little uncomfortable standing between the two, worried he may get caught in the cross fire, but finally, he calls for the bell, and the fans roar as the match gets under way! "Ding, Ding, ding!"

 

"And here we go in this NO DQ contest!" Stevens yells. "I don't know why the No DQ rule was added, but I have a hunch, that Sacred had a word in Stubby P. McWeed's ear..."

 

"He's just using his Creative Control contacts to their full advantage, it was the same with the corporation, you did all that was required to come out on top!" Riley yells back.

 

Everyone in attendance expects Sacred to come out, all guns blazing... but surprisingly, he remains subdued, circling Renegade, watching his every move. The crowd's intensity starts to build as the two approach each other, grabbing at each other's wrist, then backing off, weary of the other one. "Both men are extremely cautious, and with good reason, if one can start well, they can dictate the flow of the match." Stevens analyses. Finally, Renegade has had enough, and charges Sacred, trying for a wild clothesline, but Sacred calmly steps to the side. Renegade turns around, peering at his opponent, already frustrated. A sly smile appears on Sacred's face, as he dodges another would be clothesline from the Renegade Master. Gade steps back and takes stock of the situation, realising Sacred will just continue to frustrate him. Renegade meets Sacred, trying for one of his stiff right hands... but Sacred moves swiftly, catching Renegade's wrist and elbow, rolling through and taking him down to the mat, locking on a cross armbar!

 

"Renegade wants a brawl, but Sacred has other ideas, as he goes to work on Renegade's arm!" Stevens yells. Riley contemplates, "Why his arm, why not his leg, to slow him down, or his ribs, for revenge?"

 

Renegade is stunned for the moment, as Sacred wrenches back on his arm, but the hold is soon cut short as Renegade rolls over and punches Sacred in the temple with his free arm. Both men get to their feet, as Renegade charges, but a drop toe hold from Sacred takes him down to the mat. Sacred goes to the arm again, locking on a reverse arm lock. Renegade finds more difficulty to get out of this hold, but finally, his free hand manages to claw onto Sacred's face and rake his eyes. The Aussie gets back to his feet and stumbles backward, as Renegade holds his right arm, feeling a little pressure on it. Renegade fights back, scoring with a kick to Sacred's ribs, which stun the Aussie for a second, enough for Renegade to hook onto Sacred, and lift him over his head, with a Snap Suplex! But it’s not enough to keep Sacred down for long, as he climbs back onto his feet. Finally, Renegade hits a clothesline, and Sacred goes down. Renegade follows up by hooking Sacred by the leg...

 

O

 

N

 

E - But barely a one count is reached before Sacred powers out. "Sacred gives up 30 odd pounds to Renegade..." Riley begins. "But he can be quite agile, and produce some fantastic counters." Renegade grabs the Aussie by the head and lifts him to his feet, whipping him into the ropes. Sacred reverses the whip though, and Renegade gets propelled towards the ropes. Rene returns, and Sacred ducks his head, lifting Renegade up and back body dropping him over his head! Renegade hits hard after getting tremendous elevation, but whirls back onto his feet, where Sacred meets him, hitting a forearm, and another, and another. Sacred grabs Rene's right arm and twists it around, again, and again, wrenching it into impossible angles. Renegade yelps out in pain, but manages to counter quickly with a crushing elbow to Sacred's forehead. Sacred stumbles backward, as Renegade turns round and runs at the Australian... but Sacred grabs Renegade around the waist and lifts him up with a flapjack, throwing him onto the top rope! "Sacred continues to work on the arm, but Renegade keeps fighting back, not letting Sacred gain a foothold in this match." Stevens says.

 

"But why the arm? What's he trying to do?" Riley inquires, not finding an answer. "It's Sacred, Bobby, does anyone really know what he's thinking?" Sacred slides back through the ropes, looking at Renegade, slung over the second rope. Sacred rears back and hits a forearm, followed by some more while Renegade is defenceless. Sacred grabs Renegade's right arm and wraps it around the second rope, using it as leverage as he wrenches it, causing Renegade to yell out in pain. Some fans at ringside start a faint "Renegade" chant, and it begins to catch on, before Sacred puts it to rest as he jumps onto the ring apron and leaps into the air... dropping his knee onto the back of Renegade's head! "Brutal, just Brutal!" Grand Slam exclaims. Renegade rolls around the ring, clutching his face after it was crunched between Sacred's knee and the ring apron. Sacred chuckles as he gets back into the ring, watching the rookie struggle to his feet. Sacred leans over, watching, waiting as Renegade makes it to his feet, turning around the face his opponent... Sacred charges, head down, looking for his Kamikaze Spear! But Renegade ducks out of the way, and Sacred goes head first into the ring post!

 

"Oh my, what impact! The sound echoes through the arena, skull hitting steel!" Stevens yells, cringing as he watches it on replay. Sacred lays prone in the corner. Renegade laughs, but he soon snarls as he grabs Sacred out of the corner, putting Sacred's arm around his neck and lifting him into the air, dropping him on his head with a reverse Suplex! Sacred gets folded up like an accordion, as Renegade covers him once again.

 

O

 

N

 

E

 

- But Sacred remains resilient, kicking out after a one and a bit count. "Sacred has a game plan, that's for sure, but Renegade is just totally out powering the Aussie, and Sacred has to reply with something big!" Riley explains. Sacred holds his head down, as Renegade stomps on him, aiming for his midsection, hoping to do some more damage to his ribs. Renegade is merciless as he circles Sacred like a vulture, picking away at him... but suddenly, Sacred counters, catching Renegade's ankle! Renegade hops on one leg as Sacred gets to his feet, smiling as Renegade continues hopping. "What's he gonna do..." Stevens says, waiting in anticipation. Sacred pulls Renegade towards him and ducks his head, lifting him up onto his shoulders, letting him dangle below his back! Sacred laughs at the camera, before pulling Renegade's legs back, and propelling him forward, slamming him down with a spine buster! "Whiplash like effect from the Black Number One! Sacred's inventing new counters as he goes along as Renegade tries to turn this into a brawl!" Riley yells.

 

Sacred ponders whether to pin or not, but decides against, as he sees Renegade writhe in pain. Sacred saunters over to the Renegade Master and grabs his right arm, holding it outstretched against the mat. Sacred takes his time as he gets to his feet and jogs to the ropes, walking back, leaping into the air... and bringing his knee down on Renegade's arm! Rene's immediate reaction is to cradle his arm, yelling in pain, as Sacred laughs once more. The Aussie drops to the mat, rolling Renegade onto his stomach, grabbing his left arm and holding it between his legs, while he searches for Renegade's right arm... and gets it! He pulls back on it, completing the Rings of Saturn!

 

"He's a cold, calculated killer!" Stevens exclaims as he watches Renegade struggle desperately for the ropes. "He won't stop till he's broken Renegade's arm!" Sacred laughs louder each second Renegade is trapped in the hold. Renegade crawls forward like a seal, seeing the bottom rope as if it were paradise. He lunges towards it... and gets there! But the ref just sits back, shrugging his shoulders, claiming he can't do a thing. The fans boo viciously as Sacred keeps smiling, weakening Renegade's arm. "There's no rope breaks in a no Disqualification Match, and this will work perfectly for Sacred!" Stevens yells in quiet dispute." Renegade is high and dry, he's gotta do something!" Riley responds, on the edge of his seat.

 

Renegade cries out, his arm burning with pain as Sacred pulls back on both arms... but he lets go. He climbs back to his feet, and smiles, watching Renegade squirm on the mat, in extreme hurting. Sacred just nods his head and smiles, waiting for Gade to get back onto his feet. "A sick, bitter, twisted Australian, and these fans have lost all hope in him!" Riley shouts. The crowd watches on intently as Renegade crawls over to the turnbuckles, climbing back to his feet. Renegade stumbles forward, as Sacred runs across the ring, but Gade manages to duck a flying forearm. Sacred whirls around, and kicks Gade in the midsection, doubling him over. Sacred grabs him around the neck, grabbing his left arm... "It could be the Cruel Fate!" Stevens yells.

 

Before Sacred can try anything, Renegade drives his knee into Sacred's kidneys. Once, twice, three times! Sacred coughs and lets go momentarily, enough time for Renegade to grab Sacred by the leg and around his body, throwing him over his head, nailing a capture Suplex! Renegade tries to consolidate, as Sacred gets back to his feet, Gade hits several right hands, but they lack the sting they usually do. He cringes as he feels pain shoot through his arm, but he strives on, some more right hands to the temple send Sacred staggering. Gade charges forward and drives his knee into Sacred's ribs once more! Sacred starts to cough and splutter, as Renegade builds some momentum, stopping a second to listen to the crowd as they get behind the rookie.

 

"It's a great rush when you hear thousands of fans chanting your name and cheering for you. Renegade needs to keep going, or Sacred will walk all over him!" Stevens cries. Riley is smug, "You don't need the fans, all you need is your smarts, and right now, Sacred is using his smarts, picking away at Renegade's arm!" Renegade lifts Sacred onto his shoulders and places him on the top rope, hitting another right hand to keep him there. Renegade climbs up slowly, he sees the fans wave their arms and cheer, and he nods his head, his eyes grow wide as he grabs Sacred's arm and throws it over his shoulder. Gade grabs onto Sacred's tights, pauses for a moment, before lifting him up... falling backwards... and nailing Sacred with a Superplex! "He knows his suplexes, and even though his arm is aching, he can still somehow hit them!" Grand Slam says.

 

Both men lay on the mat, exhausted, as the fans chant "Renegade! Renegade!" Their chanting seems to work, as Rene climbs back onto his feet, looking at the Aussie sprawled out on the mat. Renegade clambers over, lifting Sacred to his feet. He whips him into the ropes, but it's reversed, and Renegade goes into the ropes. Sacred ducks a clothesline, and Gade continues on to the opposite ropes. Sacred coughs and wheezes as Renegade comes barrelling back from the ropes... Sacred ducks his head at the last second and throws Renegade over the top rope, and out onto the concrete floor!

 

"Listen to that thud as Gade hits the floor!" Riley yells, watching Renegade struggle to his feet in front of him. "I bet it wasn't like this down in the Junior League!" Stevens shudders, "Ugh, I hate to think what went on down there." Sacred climbs through the ropes and lands out of the concrete floor, bringing Renegade back onto his feet. The Aussie hits a few forearm shots to the head, before grabbing Renegade and whipping him across the floor... sending him crashing into the steel steps! The top steps go flying as the crowd boo profusely as Renegade curls up in a ball, his right shoulder taking the brunt of the hit. Sacred just chuckles as he calmly walks over to Renegade, lifting the Renegade Master onto his feet, pretending to brush him off, much to the crowd's displeasure. The Sacred One throws Renegade against the crowd barrier unceremoniously, making sure his right arm hits the wall. Fans shout taunts towards Sacred as he approaches, but the Aussie just spits in their faces, doing nothing for his popularity. Renegade finally struggles onto his feet, but Sacred grabs him in a front face lock, a wide grin appearing on his face as he hooks Renegade's arm.

 

"He's trying for the Cruel Fate again!" Stevens cries. "If he hits this on the concrete, shows over folks, good night Renegade!" Sacred waits, listening to the crowd cry out, yelling "No!" It just makes Sacred laugh... Suddenly, Renegade shrugs off Sacred's arms, locks his arms around Sacred's waist and picks him up, throwing him over his head and nailing him against the edge of the crowd barrier with a Belly to Belly Suplex! Sacred falls back down on his neck and shoulder, as the crowd cheer wildly as a faint "Holy Shit!" Chant starts up. Sacred is literally crying out in pain! "Fuck! Sacred hit the barrier HARD! Looks like his midsection took the damage, and that can't be good!" Sacred rolls around, a slight drop of blood appearing from his mouth, as Renegade slowly climbs onto his feet, this time he smiles, watching Sacred groan and moan in pain. But Renegade takes advantage of the situation, as he walks over to the announce tables, and eventually to the timekeepers desk, yanking the ring bell away!

 

"I don't like where this is going!" A worried and possibly gay Bobby Riley yells. Renegade expression changes to an angered one as he approaches Sacred, ring bell in both hands, waiting for the Aussie to make it to his feet. Getting up is proving difficult for Sacred his arms are draped over the crowd barrier. He finally pulls himself up, one arm wrapped around his stomach, holding the wound. He turns around just in time.... DING! Renegade slams the ring bell against Sacred's skull, and the Aussie drops to the concrete! The fans erupt as Renegade picks Sacred up like a rag doll and tosses him into the ring, still favouring his right arm as he slides back into the ring.

 

"Sacred's been busted open slightly, and blood is escaping from his mouth... maybe he bit off more than he could chew with this recent bumpee?" Stevens inquires. Renegade flops on top of Sacred, not bothering to hook him by the leg. The ref slides over and counts...

 

O

 

N

 

E!

 

-

 

T

 

W

 

O! But somehow, Sacred kicks out at two. "He knows this match is important, he can't give up yet..." Riley says in a low, grim tone. Gade and Sacred both get up, each man with injuries on a part of their body. Renegade rears back and hits a right hand, and again, it lacks the sting it usually has. He tries some more, but Sacred manages to fight back with some forearms, slowly gaining ground. Renegade is back against the ropes, as Sacred lines him up, and then slams his elbow into Rene's jaw, sending his head snapping backward. Some more stun the Gadester, before Sacred throws Renegade to the mat, before He quickly unhooks the turnbuckle pad from the top turnbuckle! The crowd pop as Sacred walks over and grabs Renegade, starting to pull him to his feet... Sacred says something to Renegade before pulling him across the ring, over towards the exposed steel... but Renegade blocks it, clutching onto the top rope with both hands. Sacred tries again... but Renegade blocks it once again! A few back elbows to the rib cage send Sacred stumbling away. Renegade senses an opportunity as he charges towards the Australian... but he gets caught! Sacred hooks his arm under Gade's and lifts him up, slamming him down to the mat with the "Spanish Inquisition!" Both announcers yell. Sacred finally gets the chance to pin Renegade as he hooks him by the leg...

 

O

 

N

 

E!

 

-

 

T

 

W - But Renegade kicks out after a short two count. Sacred lies on all fours, huffing and puffing, trying to get some energy back, as Renegade clambers onto his feet, weary and tired from battling. "Both men are feeling the hurt, and you couldn't pick a winner from here, it'd be impossible!" Stevens says.

 

"Twenty bucks says Sacred wins." Riley replies, flashing a crisp twenty dollar bill.

 

"You're on." Stevens replies immediately.

 

Renegade recovers first, and rushes over to Sacred as he's on one knee. Renegade hooks in a front face lock, but Sacred counters quickly, picking him up and then bringing him back down on his knee with an atomic drop, making the male members of the audience cringe. Renegade clutches at the area, as Sacred hits him with some forearms. Gade is stunned as Sacred whips him into the ropes. Renegade returns, as Sacred tries to pick up the heavier man, twirling him around for a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker! But Renegade nimbly lands on his feet. Sacred hooks his arm under Renegade's, trying to hip toss him over the ropes, but he won't budge. Sacred tries again, but the weight advantage comes into play, and Renegade quickly reverses it into a backslide pinning attempt!

 

O

 

N

 

E!

 

-

 

T

 

W

 

O! - But another kick out from Sacred. "Renegade nearly stole the match from Sacred there..." Bobby Riley says with a sigh of relief. "And I was nearly out twenty bucks!" Both men get up as fast as they can ,trading blows, forearms versus right hands. Sacred versus Renegade. Eventually, Sacred wins out, as Renegade can't land his punches like he did in their last encounter. Sacred has Renegade backed up against the ropes... he lines him up... shuffles across the ring, looking for a standing side kick... but no! Renegade ducks, and Sacred gets straddled on the top rope! Renegade turns around, and fires a few lefts and rights at Sacred's head, before starting a slow decent to the top rope. "What could he planning!?" Grand Slam wonders in vain.

 

Renegade stands tall on the top rope, looking down at Sacred, who is stick in the middle of the two turnbuckles, straddled on the top rope. Renegade suddenly leaps off, flying through air, catching Sacred in the midsection with a spear! They both fall to the ground, Renegade hits the concrete face first, while Sacred's back slams against the edge of the ring apron, and then the concrete! "Holy Crap, both men took a massive fall, Renegade put his own body on the line to take Sacred out!" Riley exclaims, watching both men squirm on the floor in front of him. Another faint "Holy Shit!" Chant starts upas both men try and regain their senses after the fall, but every attempt to get up fails when they fall back down again, exhausted.

 

Sacred crawls away, tired, but angry, as he looks behind him, seeing Renegade get on one knee, nearly to his feet. Sacred's outstretched arm tries to grab something lying nearby, as Gade works his way onto his feet, huffing and puffing, his arm in great pain. But he tries to forget about the pain as he stumbles over to Sacred... The Aussie finally finds what he is looking for, hidden behind the desk... Renegade bends down to pick him up and...

 

WHAM!

 

Cold steel hits Renegade in the skull! Sacred breathes heavily, as Renegade stumbles backward, a cut opening up on his forehead, as blood starts to trickle down. Sacred puts a finger to his chin, and wipes off his own blood... then wipes a hand on his face, and realises he's covered with the stuff. He curses as he climbs onto his feet, clutching the steel chair in both hands, waiting for Renegade to turn around. "No, don't Sacred! Not with a chair!" Stevens cries fall on deaf ears, as Renegade turns around...

 

WHAM!

 

Renegade drops to the concrete, blood splattering on the chair as Sacred throws it into the ring, looking down at Renegade with a cold, distant look. "Damnit, this is turning into nothing but a brawl! Both men are busted open!" Stevens cries again. "They are bleeding because they want to be the best, they want to show the world something! For Renegade, it's that he's ready to step up to the big time, to be the next call up star! For Sacred, it's the desire to show what a force he is, how he should be back on top once again!" Riley yells, straining his vocal chords.

 

Renegade is out cold as Sacred slides him back into the ring, entering after him, and climbing on top of him for the pin. "Not this way!" Is all Mark Stevens can yell at the moment.

 

O

 

N

 

E!

 

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W

 

O!

 

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H

 

R - Renegade kicks out! The crowd are stunned, but soon get over it and start cheering like crazy for the Renegade Master! Sacred slams his fist on the mat, again and again, his eyes wide with rage as he looks down at Renegade, blood trickling onto the mat, his own blood. Sacred slowly climbs back onto his feet, spotting the steel chair out of the corner of his eye. He slowly bends over and picks it up, staring at the chair, the blood spilt on it, almost livingly. Then he looks at Renegade, in a crumpled heat on the mat. Sacred walks over, steel chair in hand, evil intentions in mind. "Damnit, it's no DQ, so this is all legal! He's already delivered two vile chair shots, no more!" Grand Slam screams. "I'm loving this! Sacred is loving this at the moment, you can tell by the look on his face, he wants to destroy Renegade!" Riley yells back, a look of blood lust on his own face.

 

Sacred raises the chair above his head... but No! Renegade acts quickly, sending his boot into Sacred's groin! The Aussie drops the chair as the fans pop for yet another ball shot. Renegade thanks his lucky stars, as Sacred stumbles around, hurt after the low blow. Renegade finally climbs back onto his feet and approaches Sacred. He grabs Sacred in a suplex position, gripping onto his tights. He lifts him up, but can only get him halfway up before his arm gives away. "I see now..." Riley says. "Sacred focused on Renegade's arm to take out most of the power moves in his arsenal! Maybe another one of Renegade's move can't be done either..." Gade tries desperately to get Sacred up into the air, but Gade's weakness allows Sacred to slip out the back. He grabs Renegade's right arm and wraps it around his head, pulling him down and slamming him to the mat with a Knifey Spoony Neckbreaker!

 

"Knifey Spoony!" Grand Slam cries. "I love saying that. Best. Move Name. Ever." The crowd die down as Sacred gains control once again. He scrambles over to thee Renegade Master, mounting on top of him, scoring with some forearm blows to the head, trying to open up Renegade's cut even more. Sacred fires some more forearms, before getting to his feet, bringing Gade up with him. Sacred ignores the crowds boos as he brings Renegade over to the turnbuckles. Sacred hooks his arm between Renegade's legs, and in one quick motion, picks Renegade up and absolutely decimates him, slamming him down on the exposed turnbuckle with a Michinoku driver! Renegade falls back down to the mat on his head, yelling out in pain as blood drips on the mat, a cut appearing on his back and a big one. Sacred isn't done yet however, as he drags Renegade to a desired spot. He is about to climb to the top rope, when he spots the chair again, like an old friend, he goes to pick it up, stroking it lovingly, before placing it on Renegade's head.

 

"I REALLY don't like the look of this!" Stevens says. "First that absolutely brutal Michinoku Driver onto the exposed turnbuckle, and now what is he planning to do as an encore!?" Sacred slowly climbs each turnbuckle, facing the fans as he does, smiling all the while, tasting the blood that trickles down from the cut on his forehead. He turns around, holding his arms out parallel, leaping of the ropes... flying through the air... he comes down to the mat, hitting a flying elbow drop onto the chair on Renegade's face! Renegade and Sacred bounce from the impact, and both lay on the mat, dazed, confused, and pretty freaking tired. "He has to have broken Renegade's nose with that!" Riley yells. "The last couple of minutes have turned the tide for Sacred. Renegade could capitalise because of his arm... and Sacred capitalised because of that!"

 

The camera zooms in on Sacred, as he sits up, his eyes off in some distant place, his face not quite yet a crimson mask, but it's getting there. He quickly crawls on top of Renegade and hooks him by the leg.

 

O

 

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R! NO! Renegade kicks out! Sacred is absolutely fucking irate as he looks down at Renegade in disbelief. "No matter what Sacred tries, Renegade won't lay down for him! These guys have only faced once before, but already their developing a heated rivalry!" Riley yells as he watches Sacred pound Renegade with forearms and elbows, anything imaginable, and anything to beat him down. "He's getting desperate now. He's taken out Renegade's arm, pummelled him with a chair, but still Renegade holds on. I hate to think what it will take for Sacred to win this thing..."

 

Sacred lifts Renegade onto his feet, but Renegade is so lifeless, he just drops back down to the mat. Sacred lifts him up again, and whips him into the ropes. Renegade comes barrelling back, Sacred leaps to the side, trying for a Harlem Side Kick, but Renegade ducks somehow. Gade comes charging back, suddenly getting his second wind, locking Sacred in an... Standing Octopus Stretch! The fans cheer as Renegade locks the hold in tight, and Sacred cries out, tears of blood spilling down his cheeks. "Renegade, out of fucking nowhere with a brilliant move! He's been beaten down by Sacred, and just like in their last match, every time Renegade got in trouble, he attacked Sacred's ribs, and now he's doing it again!" Riley cries out.

 

Sacred tries to break free, but Renegade keeps the hold locked in, wrenching back on Sacred's torso, sending pain shooting through the Sacred One's body. Both men are bleeding profusely, but it doesn't seem to matter to them, they just want to win, and at any cost. Sacred fights his arms free, and manages to get away. Sacred whirls around the ring, not quite sure of his surrounding, disoriented by the bright lights of the Pepsi arena. Renegade grabs him again, getting a handful of tights... "He's trying another suplex, will it work is the question?" Riley asks, watching Renegade puff, trying to summon up energy and block the pain in his arm. Gade lifts him up into the air, and keeps him there! The crowd cheer as they watch Sacred hanging defenceless in mid air. Renegade takes a few steps forward and turns around, falling backwards and suplexing Sacred... right onto the exposed turnbuckle!

 

"Oh yes he can is the answer!" Mark Stevens says gleefully. "Renegade has his turn to use the exposed turnbuckle, and in what a fashion!" Sacred is in a ball on the canvas, thick blood dripping from his mouth and onto the mat. Renegade notices, but doesn't particularly care as he covers Renegade in what he hopes for the win!

 

O

 

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R

 

E! - NOOOO! Sacred gets a shoulder off the canvas, and the match continues. This time, Renegade is the one in disbelief. Renegade gets onto his feet, wiping the blood from his eyes and his mouth, bright red blood pouring freely from his cut. He grabs the chair and places it on Sacred's head, spitting out some blood onto it for added effect. He calmly jogs to the ropes and comes back towards Sacred, leaping into the air and hitting a leg drop onto the chair, onto Sacred's face! Renegade crawls away, reaching into his pocket, and pulling out a knife, which he places in between his third and fourth finger.

 

"Now this is a bit too far for Renegade..." Stevens says grimly. "He rip Sacred to shreds with that knife!" Riley agrees, "I didn't think Renegade would resort to this, but I didn't think the match would turn out like this at the beginning of the night, so anything could surprise me." Renegade runs towards Sacred and leaps into the air again, coming down and hitting a fist drop on Sacred's forehead, opening up yet another cut. Gade mounts Sacred, and brings Sacred's head closer, saying something that can't be heard, but Sacred's expression immediately changes when he hears it. Gade slams his fist against Sacred's head, blood soaking into his fists.

 

Gade gets back onto his feet, and suddenly, the crowd are on their feet, applaud and cheering. Renegade looks around and nods his head, before raising his arm, signalling he wants to end it. "Renegade's had enough, and he could end it right here!" Stevens exclaims.

 

Renegade hunches over, waiting for Sacred to get up. The Aussie fights his way onto his feet, his injuries taking their toll, and the blood covering his eyes making it hard to see. He stumbles around, but finally finds Renegade. Sacred runs at him blindly, trying for an uncharacteristic clothesline, but Rene ducks, turns around and kicks Sacred in the midsection... locks on a front face lock... grabs Sacred over the left arm... leaps into the air, falls forward...

 

CRUEL FATE!

 

Sacred and Renegade crash to the mat as the crowd goes nuts! "Oh my god, Renegade hits Sacred's own finishing manoeuvre, the Cruel Fate! Oh my!" Stevens yells uncontrollably. "Renegade practically gace Sacred a big slap in the face by using his finisher, I know he won't stand for it!" Riley yells in reply. Renegade is flat on his stomach, along with Sacred, both men motionless as the ref looks on, watching for any signs of motion, anything at all, while the crowd in the background go wild once more, chanting "RENEGADE! RENEGADE! RENEGADE!" The Renegade master, slowly but surely, claws his way towards Sacred, lunging towards him, laying an arm across Sacred's chest...

 

The ref counts slowly...

 

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E - NO! No, no, no, no! Sacred rolls his shoulder off the mat, and breaks the count! "How the hell did he kick out!?" Stevens yells in shock. "The Cruel fate, one of the most dangerous moves in the SWF, and he kicked out! HOW!?" Riley is just as shocked, but manages to bumble out an explanation. "All I can say is... Sacred knows his own move, he knows how to block it, he managed to put an arm out in time, which just may have saved him the match..."

 

Renegade still has his arm slumped on Sacred's chest, neither man moving a muscle, as the fans just boo, nearly every one of them wanting Renegade to pull out a victory. Renegade looks up off the mat, his face now completely covered with blood from the gruelling bout, but he knows he has to continue he knows he has to put the nail in the coffin. Sacred rolls up onto his side, his eyes looking bleak as he tries to fathom what happened just then. The crowd noise it amazing as each man tries to get up, but can't quite do it due to fatigue. Renegade holds his arm, after it's taken a battering from Sacred, and maybe Renegade's own recklessness in trying to beat Sacred.

 

"You just don't know how this will end..." Stevens begins to say. "It's dead even, but maybe Renegade just has the edge after that Cruel Fate to pull out the upset victory..." Sacred crawls to the corner, and tries to climb onto his feet, as Renegade manages to stand, although staggering, tired and worn out from fighting. He looks over at Sacred, who has just gotten up, but his head hangs down, and his eyes are glazed over. Renegade stumbles around, but finally gains his senses, and charges towards his Australian opponent. Sacred peers up and spots Renegade on the charge. Gade leaps into the air, his body coming down, hoping to crush Sacred between him and turnbuckle... but the Aussie manages to slide away! Renegade comes down and his jaw slams against the exposed turnbuckle!

 

"Renegade didn't see the exposed turnbuckle because Sacred was in the way!" Stevens cries. Renegade stumbles backwards and turns around, as Sacred hooks him for a brain buster, and manages to pick him up... but Renegade puts all his weight down and falls behind Sacred, turning the Aussie around and grabbing him by the neck, for the...

 

RENE-BREAK!

 

"This would surely seal Sacred's fate!" Stevens screams out. Renegade tries to hit it, but his arm is hurting too much, and he has to let go of Sacred's neck! "I KNEW IT!" Riley yells. "Sacred wanted to take the Rene-Break out of the equation, and he did, Renegade's arm is too badly hurt to utilise it!"

 

Renegade is pushed into the ropes by Sacred. Gade comes back, as Sacred meets him with a boot to the stomach. Sacred reaches for the steel chair still lying on the canvas with his foot, and puts it under the two combatants. Sacred hooks Renegade's right arm, leaps into the air, kicks his legs out, falls forward...

 

CRUEL FATE!!!! CRACK!!!

 

Renegade's head bounces off the steel chair and he lies motionless, eyes closed, looking dead. Sacred just coughs and splutters, producing more blood, as Riley cries, "HE GOT IT! And onto the steel chair! Let this be over, for both these men’s sake!"

 

Sacred drags himself, blood wiping onto the mat as he does... He throws his arm across Renegade's chest, and the ref slides down after seeing it, making the count as the fans chant along...

 

"O"

 

"N"

 

"E!"

 

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"T"

 

"W"

 

"O!"

 

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"T"

 

"H"

 

"R"

 

"E"

 

"E!" The crowd rises in a mixed response, absolutely livid that Sacred got the pin, but cheering like crazy for the brutal contest they've just witnessed. The ref gets up and flashes his arms, calling for the bell. "DING, DING, DING!"

 

As the bell is rung, Funyon gets on the mic as the ref puts his hand on Sacred's wrist and raises his arm in victory. "Here is your winner... SACRED!" Sacred's arm slumps to the mat as the ref lets go of it.

 

"What a fucking match!" Riley screams. "Both men gave it their all, but Sacred lived up to his word, and put Renegade through hell to win! But Renegade would not give up, just would not give up! You have to hand it to him, he made this a fantastic match!"

 

"For a match with little hype, and little interest, this has been one hell of a match! So many high lights to this one, I wanna watch it again!" Grand Slam yells enthusiastically.

 

"Oh yeah Mark, where's my twenty bucks!?"

 

Sacred crawls away, blood gushing from wounds on his face, his ribs burning with pain. But he manages to stand up on the outside of the ring, hobbling forward... and then stopping, listening to the fans boo and jeer, taunt and tease him. Sacred's eyes grow wide, and he looks back at Renegade, who is being helped up by the referee. Sacred breathes heavily, and then rushes back to the ring!

 

"What's he doing, the match is over, there's no need for more blood shed!" Stevens yells in vain, watching Sacred slide into the ring, and grab the blood riddled steel chair. The ref holds out his hand, desperately trying to stop Sacred, but nothing will stop the Aussie now. The ref flees like little girl as Sacred rears back, bring the chair behind his head...

 

WHAM!

 

He smashes it across Renegade's face, and he goes down! Sacred raises the chair again and WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! Brings the chair down on various parts of Renegade's boy as he lies defenceless.

 

"He's lost it! He's totally and utterly lost his mind!" Riley yells. "Even I think Renegade's had enough!"

 

The crowd are up in arms as Sacred beats Renegade like a dog with chair shot after chair shot... but he stops and turns as LDP and Tod deKindes run down to make the save to a big pop from the fans. Sacred lets the chair dangle in his hands as LDP and Tod surround the ring, waiting to pounce. Sacred calmly walks over to the ropes and steps out, as Tod and LDP start to approach him, but the sight of a bloody and bruised Sacred with a chair raised above his head like a maniac is enough for them to back off. Sacred continues to back up the ramp. LDP and Tod slide into the ring and rush over to Renegade, who is still out of it...

 

"Lucky X-Force Nine came down here, or who knows how far Sacred would have gone... it's obvious to see, Sacred's on the war path, and maybe Renegade's valiant resistance was enough to push the Aussie over the edge... please, get some one out here to look at Renegade, I mean it." Stevens says with some concern.

 

The fans watch the ring as LDP and Tod get Renegade back onto his feet, and they give him a round of applause for the contest they just saw. Sacred stands at the top of the ramp, a bloody mess, but he won, and that's all that matters to him...

 

"We gotta get this mess cleaned up, so stay tuned for some words from our sponsors skittles, melts in your mouth, not in your hand!" Stevens says with a cheesy grin.

 

"Uh that's M&M's Mark..."

[Guest BA_Baracus]

“Ladies and gentlemen, you may want to send the kids to bed and finish eating your meals. This next match is going to be nothing short of brutal…”

 

”You said it, Mark. Annie Eclectic was stupid enough to challenge Silent to a hardcore match on Smarkdown. While Stubby was merciful enough to book it as a regular singles match, I doubt Silent took very well to Ms. Eclectic’s line of thought. Hee hee hee…oh, this is going to be a good one, Stevens, I can feel it already.”

 

The arena’s lights are abruptly cut off, and the spotlights near the entrance ramp begin to flicker rapidly, creating a blurred effect for anyone walking through them. Front Line Assembly’s “Retribution (Front 242 Remix)” hits the sound system as Funyon begins to announce the Clansman’s entry.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is for the number one contendership to the SWF Hardcore title. Introducing first, he hails from Phoenix, Arizona, and weighs in at two hundred and forty-eight pounds…he is representing the Clan…SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILENT!”

 

White fog billows out from behind the curtains as the Smarkstron flickers to life. A rapid succession of footage showing Silent hitting various Demonstar Drivers flashes onscreen, in time with the pulse-pounding beat of the music. After every Demonstar clip, the Chinese character for “Retribution” flashes, two stories tall, on the ‘Tron. Once the audience has had a few moments to grow accustomed to the blistering pace of the lights and the music, Silent makes his entrance through the fog at the top of the ramp, coat trailing behind him. He walks slowly down the ramp, stopping briefly to stare at a particularly rambunctious fan in the front row before continuing down to ringside.

 

“Silent looks very focused tonight, Riley.”

 

”Mark, the man is always focused. He’s a machine. A neck-breaking, cane-swinging, wrestling machine. He’s the-“

 

”Riley, please. You’re getting yourself all excited. Shut up.”

 

Silent slides deftly into the ring as “Retribution” begins to fade away and the arena’s lights come back up. He hands the referee his cane and ties his hair back before sliding his coat off with a slight shrug of his shoulders and sending it spiraling towards the announcer’s table. The Silent One reclines on the ropes in an arrogant fashion as he awaits the arrival of the Hardcore Queen.

 

The lights come up slightly as “Retribution” fades from the speakers, but they remain dim as a familiar guitar riff begins to take their place…

 

“I NEVER KNEW GIRLS EXISTED LIKE YOU!”

 

Andrew W.K.’s “She is Beautiful” hits the sound system at full volume, and the crowd is on their feet as Annie Eclectic comes flying down the ramp, murder in her eyes and a trusty kendo sword in her hand!

 

“Um, does Annie know this is a regular match, Riley?”

 

”You want to tell her?”

 

”No, thanks, you can do it.”

 

She slides into the ring, rolls to her feet in one fluid motion, swings mightily at Silent…

 

CRACK!

 

…and drops Eddy Long to the mat instead.

 

“Well, that’s not good.”

 

”Very astute, Riley. How the hell are we going to get a number-one contender to the Hardcore title without a referee?”

 

Annie advances, swinging her kendo sword wildly, as Silent deftly backs away. The Slaughterer ducks underneath a particularly careless swing and sprints across the ring to the opposite ropes. Silent comes flying back, arm outstretched for a Burning Lariat…but Annie drops her kendo sword and ducks, lifts Silent onto her shoulder, and sits out…

 

“SPLASHDOWN!” yells Mark Stevens…

 

..And Silent sits up.

 

“Oh, dear, she’s gone and made him mad again.”

 

Annie rises to one knee as she recovers from the Splashdown, and is met with a swift kick to the jaw from the Silent One! XF9’s narcissist lesbian is sent sprawling as the Silent One deftly scoops up his cane from the corner…

 

FWOOOOOOOOSH! THUNK!

 

FWOOOOOOOOSH! THUNK!

 

FWOOOOOOOOSH! THUNK!

 

FWOOOOOOOOSH! THUNK!

 

FWOOOOOOOOSH! THUNK!

 

FWOOOOOOOOSH! THUNK!

 

FWOOOOOOOOSH! THUNK!

 

FWOOOOOOOOSH! THUNK!

 

“Good Lord, Annie is a bloody mess! This isn’t a sanctioned match, it’s a bloody massacre!”

 

”With the emphasis on ‘bloody’, Mark.”

 

”Riley, will you shut UP for once?”

 

”NO! Continue the caneshot madness! The is the best entertainment I've seen since Sexton Hardcastle got hit by a train!”

 

”You're sick, Riley. Just plain sick.”

 

Silent stands over the dazed Annie E, struggling... gasping for air as she uses Silent's own leg to try and pull herself off the mat. A woman in the front row screams in fear as Silent raises his cane once more. He watches as Annie slowly works herself up to one knee, shaking and wobbling. With a smile of pleasure... Silent crashes the head of his cane hard upon the unprotected skull of Annie Eclectic. Her strength gives out as her body crashes to the mat.

 

“Will someone simply stop this? There's no reason for this! There's no referee, there's no sanction, this isn't a match folks! Silent is just hurting the Hardcore Queen for his own sick pleasure!”

 

”Isn't he teh roq?”

 

Silent throws his cane to the outside preferring to reach down and pick up the limp Hardcore Queen by the hair. He forces her to her feet then roughly doubles her over, placing her head between his knees...

 

” DAMMIT! Not the Fall From Grace, it's OVER, Silent, this is more than enough!”

 

” If she's breathing, there's still work to do. He's the Slaughterer, Mark! He isn't going to play with bunnies and paint rainbows, he's going to hurt people, he's going to maim people, and just every now and again, he's going to kill people. Shut up and enjoy the show. Even when he's done, you know what they say... Dead girls don't say no!”

 

”You should be arrested just for saying that, you know.”

 

With seemingly no effort, Silent hefts the petite warrior onto his shoulder, and then bounces her up, catching her arms and holding her high above his head. Annie's head lolls around, her eyes open but lifeless. Silent drops to his knees as he throws the Angel forward and down, causing Annie E to land hard on the back of her neck. Eclectic simply lies there, as the crowd goes as silent as her opponent.

 

”Alright! My turn, move over Silent...”

 

” SHUT... THE FUCK... UP!”

 

” What? ...I'm the comic relief! Jesus, you'd think I was desecrating the dead or something.”

 

Silent rises to full height and strolls over to his fallen opponent. Without warning he sends a hard boot into her ribs, rolling her over. A second puts her back on her stomach with a small groan. Silent continues his assault, slowly forcing the Angel to roll over and over... until she falls off the apron, landing with a thud in front of the announcer's table.

 

” Thanks, Silent!”

 

” Either shut up, or I kill you.”

 

”....killjoy....”

 

Silent motions towards Funyon, who quickly responds but tossing up his microphone up to the Slaughterer...

 

” Look... at your hero. A failed experiment. She couldn't just…do what she was told. Her complete and total failure should only serve as a warning... to anyone who may question my determination…my resolve.”

 

Silent turns around to face the SmarkTron.

 

*whispers* This should show you Drazon... what happens to those who scheme to destroy the Clan... or myself. We, are not to be trifled with.

 

A small buzz occurs right behind the announcer's table as the limp body of Annie Eclectic begins to move. Her hands find her bleeding face and move away, allowing her clearing sight to catch hold of the crimson juice. Immediately she sits straight up, rigid. The crowd pops as Silent turns to face the noise... and a rising Annie E.

 

“SHE'S UP?!?!? Annie E. is standing outside the ring, looking straight at Silent, and she's not flinching! Or blinking!”

 

“That ruins all my plans!”

 

”What is going on? That's not physically possible!”

 

(Silent stares straight into the whites of Annie's eyes, which peer at him through the solid red of her own blood. The Slaughterer runs towards her, sliding forward with a kick underneath the ropes but misses as Annie sidesteps the attack. Silent lands on his feet to the outside and swipes the microphone in his and at Annie's head... which only hits air. Annie drops to her knees and rolls backwards, dodging a roundhouse kick from Silent. She rises to her feet as her hand quickly shoots forward from behind her back... cracking Silent's skull with his own steel cane!)

 

Stevens: A mote of revenge! Annie takes a shot at Silent with his own cane! But he's still up, and he just seems angry!

 

Riley: Well, I guess we simply need more time to kill the bitch.

 

(Silent kicks forward in rage, dropping the microphone behind him but Annie sidesteps, crashing the steel cane down upon Silent's crown. The blow and lack of balance drop Silent down to one knee as he shakes his head to clear the ringing. Time does not allow him respite, as Annie E lands another caneshot to his head... and another.... and another... and another, all in quick succession without allowing the Slaughterer to even breathe.)

 

Stevens: Where is this strength coming from???

 

Riley: Stop... STOP! She could kill him! Get this bitch off him!

 

Stevens: Odd being on the other side isn't it?

 

Riley: SHUT UP!

 

Annie grabs Silent's arm roughly, dragging him up to a standing position. she hoists the Slaughterer up in a bodyslam... but holds him. Then she shifts her arms, nearly dropping the Clannie but then catching him in an inverted piledriver position....

 

Stevens: What is she doing?

 

Riley: I don't know but it isn't going to be pretty....

 

The Angel screams up to the heavens... then pulls her victim up, his body arcing high above her waist, his body pointing straight out from her head. The Queen hops forward and down, pulling the Slaughterer's body down with her... face first into the steel steps five feet in front of her..... Silent's upper body bends back at an unnatural angle as his legs are held down by the Angel. The force causes him to roll off to the floor, ending up face first on the mat....

 

”WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT??? How did a one hundred and fifty pound woman just lift the Slaughterer like a rag doll and face plant him on the steps?!?!?”

 

”Um…she…she cheated?”

 

Annie does not rest. Reaching behind her, she grabs the fallen mic then rolls over to the still body of Silent. Rolling him onto his back, she straddles his chest, pinning his arms to his side. Her hands find Silent's face, now streaked with the blood of himself and Eclectic. She finds a gash on his forehead and draws an amount onto her finger. She uses the blood to cover her already bloody eyes... and then throws a punch directly into Silent's face. Her left hand brings the microphone to her lips... as the crowd hushes to hear...

 

”Assassin.... trumps Slaughterer. Always has.... always will. I shall take you out, and make sure that you never.... EVER.... *waaaak!*

 

(Silent powers up and out, knocking the Angel backwards to the floor. With haste he grabs his cane and sets off, heading up the entrance ramp with his head being held by his free hand....)

 

” What the... why is... and how.... AAAAA!!! I'm confused, Annie's bloody and angry, Silent's bloody and running, and probably just as angry, I've just seen a move no woman under two hundred should be able to do, and I think I need a nap! This... is the most brutal contest I've seen tonight and it never even got officially started! What is going to come out of this?”

 

” Not a hardcore #1 contender, that hasn't been decided either!”

 

” I think we need to montage for the next match now.... someone cut away so I can compose myself....”

 

The camera zooms back onto the Hardcore Queen, kneeling, and shaking in laughter...

 

”Run while you can, Damien! I am no failure…”

 

”An Assassin…trumps…a Slaughterer…”

[Guest BA_Baracus]

SWF Apocalypse returns with a shot of the crowd in the Pepsi Center in Denver. Fans are on their feet as the theme music blares in the background.

 

"You know," says Bobby, "I can't really make out what that song is."

 

Mark pauses thoughtfully, then agrees. "I know. It's kind of ambiguous, not unlike some people who have been at this table recently."

 

"Yeah," grumbles Riley. "I HATED that damn NTD."

 

Stevens debates whether to comment, but decides not to, opting instead to move right along. "We've had an exciting card so far, with amazing action right from the start! We also saw..."

 

"We saw a travesty! A shameless, horrible travesty! A slap in the face of justice!"

 

"Bobby, don't you think you're overstating it a bit?"

 

"Frost attacked Tom Flesher for no reason! NO REASON! This match should be postponed!"

 

Stevens clears his throat. "Be that as it may, Ash Ketchum has earned a title shot, and he'll get it tonight. These two athletes have a lot of history between them, stemming back to a series in the SJL where they traded the World Championship. Each man came out of that series a two-time SJL Champion, with Ash getting the last laugh in a steel cage match that was Durandal's last SJL appearance."

 

"Yeah," says Riley, "but Tom's beaten Ash twice in the SWF! And Mark, that's where it COUNTS!"

 

"It remains to be seen which wrestler will walk away with the win here. Flesher leads the series 3-2. Will Ash even it up, and take Flesher's US Title to boot? Let's go to the ring and find out!"

 

Funyon climbs into the ring, clad in a somewhat understated tuxedo, and declares, "Ladies and gentlemen, the next match is scheduled for one fall under standard rules, and it is for the SWF UNITED STATES CHAMPIONSHIP!" With that, the lights cut out, and a series of piano chords bursts out over the PA. The stage is enveloped by a cascade of pyro as the fans begin to cheer.

 

"The first competitor, from Pallet Town in Tampa, Florida... accompanied by Misty, and weighing in at 258 pounds... representing X Force 9, he is the man, the myth, the Midcard King... he is ASH... KETCHUM!!!!!!!!"

 

A PokeBall appears on the SmarkTron and starts spinning. It spins faster and faster as the fans pop, but soon it's blocked out by the grinning visage of Ash Ketchum. With that, a huge explosion goes off, and when the smoke clears, Ash is standing in his trademark back-to-the-crowd pose with Billy Crawford's Pokemon Theme playing in the background. The spotlight shines down on him as he spins out, smiling with Misty out at his legions of fans. He offers Misty his arm, and the PokeFreaks walk arm-in-arm down to the ring, stopping to slap a few fans' hands on the way.

 

"You know, Bobby, Ash Ketchum is one of the SWF's most popular athletes. He can work a crowd like no one else."

 

"Oh, come on. Have you forgotten Danny Williams?"

 

"...touche."

 

When Ash and Misty get to the ring, Ash helps her up the stairs, and then holds the ropes for her. She enters the ring followed by her fiance, who immediately mounts the closest turnbuckle. He looks out to the fans, and then throws his hand up into his trademark split-finger V-for-victory sign, prompting a loud pop from the fans. With that, he whips his "SWF: Get The F In" shirt off and tosses it out to the crowd. One lucky fan wearing an "I've Got PokeBalls" t-shirt catches it as Ash climbs down and starts stretching out, the music fading.

 

"And his opponent....."

 

The lights dim. The buzzing intro to "I Am The Man" by the Philosopher Kings starts to play over the speakers, accompanied by twin columns of blue pyro. After a teasing pause, a blue explosion lights up the arena and the vocals start. As the smoke clears, "The Superior One" Tom Flesher is revealed standing in front of the entrance. He has his head turned heroically to the left in a stereotypical Superman pose, but...

 

"WHERE ARE HIS BELTS?!"

 

"I'm not sure, Bobby, but it's not the end of..."

 

"WHERE ARE THEY?!"

 

"You might do well to point out the bandage on his forehead, Bobby."

 

"THE BELTS!!!!!!!!"

 

Yes, Flesher wears a large gauze bandage over the gash left on his forehead from Frost's attack, and his waist and shoulder are bare. He waits a moment, then takes a few steps forward. He strides confidently to the ring, waving at the booing fans... and following behind him are two beautiful Japanese girls in blue prom-style dresses, each carrying one of Flesher's title belts!

 

 

Somewhere, Silent mutters "Thank you."

 

 

"Look at this!" Stevens, easily offended, is 100% in character tonight. "This is nothing but sheer egotism!"

 

"I love it!" shout Riley.

 

"Bobby, they can't be any older than 18... 19 at best, probably much younger. They're jailbait!"

 

"I'd be willing to go to jail for that!"

 

"Well sure, Bobby, but that's because Big Bubba's there waiting, isn't it?"

 

When Flesher gets to the ring, he enters first, then holds the ropes for the two belt girls. They enter and smile prettily, holding the belts as Flesher stands between them and poses. He grins as the fans boo him, and Funyon removes the index card from his pocket. He clears his throat and begins announcing....

 

"Ladies, Gentlemen, and Misty..." Cheap heat. "Currently in the ring is one of the most talented athletes in the SWF today. Hailing from Buffalo, New York, he is the man that singlehandedly makes up for four straight Super Bowl losses. He negates No-Goal. He's so benevolent that he was late for the show today because he stopped to save the residents of a burning nursing home, then threw a purse-snatcher back into the building, and immediately walked on water to heal an injured swan across the street. And now, tonight, he's going to show that same benevolence by simply pinning Ash Ketchum, and not embarrassing him too badly. People of Denver, bow down before your Light Heavyweight Champion and your United States Champion, bow down before the glory that is THE SUPERIOR ONE TOM FLESHER!!!!!"

 

The fans reflexively start booing as Tom Flesher smiles and bows deeply, then pops back up and kisses each smiling belt girl on the cheek. Referee Eddy Long takes the US Title from one of the belt girls and holds it aloft, as the other belt girl sets the Light Heavyweight Title in Flesher's corner. The two scurry off as Flesher falls into his stance, Ketchum comes to the center, and Long calls for the bell.

 

 

DING DING DING!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

Flesher and Ash circle around each other, neither man wanting to make the first move. Ash steps forward to lock up, but Flesher backs away. He then shoots in for a single-leg takedown, which Ash sidesteps. He sprawls back to neutralize any attempt at a re-shot, then locks on a front facelock. He stands up, and immediately....

 

"The Bind!!! Only a few seconds into the match, and Ash already has Flesher in The Bind!"

 

"Oh, dear sweet mother of God!!!!! He tripped! He just tripped! God, don't let the match end like this!!!!"

 

Ash attempts to add pressure to the guillotine choke, but Flesher reaches through and grabs his wrist. In one fluid motion, Flesher pulls the wrist through and spins out of the choke, still holding Ketchum by the arm. Before Ketchum can react, Flesher kicks him stiffly in the kneecap. Ash sells the knee, but stays standing, prompting Flesher to swing his leg around and boot Ash in the pit of the knee instead. With Ash off balance, Flesher spins through and jerks the arm over his shoulder in a Japanese armdrag, then drops onto him for

 

ONE!

 

 

but Ash kicks out almost immediately, prompting a quick pop from the fans. Before Ash can get back to his feet, Flesher grabs his left leg and clutches it against his chest, looking desperately for an ankle lock.

 

"Flesher's going for a fall early in the match," says Stevens, "and he's looking quite frantic already."

 

"That's because that big jackass attacked him!"

 

"Bobby, don't you LIKE Frost?"

 

Riley looks confused. "Well, sure I do, but not as much as I like Flesher. He's superior!"

 

"Sure he is, Bobby. Sure he is."

 

Flesher goes for the ankle lock, only to be booted in the chest by a still-fresh Ketchum. With his opponent's wind knocked out of him briefly, Ash does a forward roll and comes up on top with an ankle lock of his own! Flesher lunges forward and grabs the ropes, forcing Ash to release the hold. Flesher, looking quite concerned over the first few moments of the match, shakes his head wildly to get his bearings back and then pulls himself to his feet, walking back to the center. When he gets there, he's immediately met by a forearm smash that staggers him. Ash steps forward and throws another forearm, backing Flesher into the ropes. He follows Tom to the edge of the ring and quickly plays to the crowd before he steps into another forearm smash, but Flesher hits him with a quick shotei to the chest before he can complete it. Ash steps backwards from the impact, but when Flesher tries to follow up with another stepping shotei, Ash simply blocks it and floors him with a forearm! The fans pop as Flesher hits the mat, looking frustrated.

 

"Flesher got the worst of that exchange," notes Stevens. "It looks like Ketchum is wearing him down methodically."

 

"Bullshit. He's rope-a-doping."

 

"You say that every week!"

 

"He wins every week!"

 

"Tell that to TNT."

 

"CRIME SPREE!"

 

Ash follows Tom to the mat, quickly slapping on a side armbar as he falls to the mat. Flesher stands up to counter, but Ash simply wrenches the arm and follows through by pulling Flesher into the Pikaslam! Flesher shifts his weight as Ash pulls him over, though, and lands on his feet behind the PokeFreak. With a quick bodylock, he throws Ash backwards in a sloppy German suplex and bridges for

 

ONE!

 

 

but no more, as Ash breaks the makeshift lock and rolls through. Flesher rolls to his stomach and tries to grab Ash's leg, but Ash simply boots Tom in the head and backs away.

 

"Bobby, that looked to be a case of too much, too soon for Flesher. He's obviously very concerned about getting this match over with, but he's not paying attention to technique."

 

"Yeah? Well... um... Ash is gay!"

 

"Says the pot to the kettle. Ash Ketchum is using excellent technique as always, and I have to give him the advantage here."

 

"Bah."

 

As Stevens mutters, "Not this again," Flesher gets back to his feet... only to be knocked back to the mat with a side kick! Flesher hits the mat looking even more frustrated, and before Ash can follow him to the mat, he rolls to the outside. Eddy Long starts his ten-count.

 

ONE

 

Flesher stalks around the outside, looking very depressed and angry. Ash, meanwhile, keeps his focus on his opponent.

 

TWO

 

"Bobby," says Grand Slam, "You don't think Flesher's going to pull the same thing he did with Z?"

 

THREE

 

"Why, whatever could you mean?" asks Riley innocently.

 

FOUR

 

"A countout to save the belt?"

 

FIVE

 

"He's much too ethical to do that!"

 

SIX

 

Flesher looks toward the back, and immediately Ash catches on, then jumps out of the ring. He lands right in front of Flesher, then grabs him and tries to throw him back in. This, of course, breaks the count, and Long starts over.

 

ONE

 

Flesher plants his feet and resists being thrown back in, then grabs Ketchum's arm and reverses the momentum into an Irish whip.

 

TWO

 

Ketchum hits the cornerpost hard, and Flesher follows closely behind him with a Yakuza kick!

 

THREE

 

As his head gets sandwiched between Flesher's Doc Marten and the steel, Ash collapses to the concrete. Coldly, Flesher reenters the ring and waits for Ash.

 

FOUR

 

"WHAT A MANEUVER!" shouts Riley.

 

FIVE

 

Ash groggily starts to pull himself up using the cornerpost. He looks up cautiously in case Flesher's waiting with a dive, but the Superior One simply sits in his stance across the ring.

 

SIX

 

Ash gets to his feet and rolls into the ring. Immediately, Flesher charges at him and nails a low dropkick to the head, nearly sending Ash back out of the ring. Ash stays in, however, and Flesher dropkicks him in the head again. With his opponent stunned, Flesher rolls him to his back and covers for

 

ONE

 

 

NO!!!!! Ash immediately drapes his foot across the bottom rope, still far too fresh and aware for Flesher to catch him with a cheap cover.

 

"You know, Bobby, if I was Flesher, I might have hit that baseball slide dropkick while Ash was still on the outside."

 

"Yeah, well if I were you I wouldn't wear that stupid-looking baseball cap every night."

 

"Touche. My point is, he's obviously trying to win at all costs. Why wouldn't he have followed up that vicious kick on the outside?"

 

"Maybe he's still a little stunned from that big Icelandic dumbass attacking him!"

 

"Perhaps you're overstating it a bit, but you do make an interesting point. How will Frosts's attack play into this match?"

 

"I swear, if it puts the US Title on Ash..."

 

"What'll you do, Bobby?"

 

"I'll kick and scream! I'll hold my breath till I turn blue!!!!!!!"

 

Pause.

 

Stevens gets up and hollers, "COME ON, ASH!!" at the top of his lungs.

 

Flesher gets up and backs away, since the foot on the ropes forces a clean break. Ash gets back to his feet and returns to the center of the ring. Flesher, slightly more confident after the flurry, steps forward with a shotei that catches Ash in the Adams-apple. Ash coughs and sputters, and Flesher immediately follows up with a pair of stiff kicks to Ash's left knee. After a third kick, Ash falls to the mat. Flesher lifts the leg up and drops an elbow into the knee, wrenching it to the side. Flesher stands up and motions that he's going to drop another elbow into the knee. Ash braces for it, but Flesher quickly drops the left leg and grabs the right. Fluidly, he spins through with a spinning toehold, and before Ash knows what's happening, Flesher locks on a figure four leglock! Immediately, Ash starts writhing in pain, lunging for the ropes. Flesher grins at the wincing Ketchum, who tries harder and harder to get the ropes.

 

"Flesher moved too quickly for Ketchum there," says Stevens.

 

"Yeah," agrees Bobby. "He faked him out good!"

 

"Already in this match we've seen Flesher counter the Pikaslam with a German suplex," Grand Slam continues. "Is it possible that Ash hasn't been watching his films as closely as Flesher has?"

 

"Possible? Jesus, Mark, Ash hasn't been watching anything except the Rerun Show!"

 

And with that, Ash reaches the ropes, grasping desperately at the bottom strand to force a break. Flesher cranks the hold sadistically for the full ONE... TWO... THREE... FOUR... and finally breaks it just before five. He stands up and baits Ash back to the center. Ash stays on his back for a moment longer as Misty pats him on the cheek, encouraging him to go on and win the match. He pulls himself back up to his feet and returns to the center.

 

"And here we are, Bobby, with Ash Ketchum limping slightly and Tom Flesher slowly regaining his confidence from the attack earlier on tonight."

 

"Regaining? Hell, Mark, he's been confident all night!"

 

"You've obviously let your prurient interest get in the way of watching the match."

 

The two combatants circle around each other for a few seconds, Ketchum looking slightly disconcerted and Flesher wearing the smallest smirk. After a moment or two, Flesher drops in and shoots for another single-leg takedown. Once again, Ash sidesteps to avoid it, but this time grabs Flesher's arm rather than his head and falls down into an armbar! With that, Flesher's face falls, and he sells the armbar hard. Ash cranks it, but intentionally leaves space for Flesher to spin out and stand up. Tom, given no other option to relieve the pressure, does stand up, and walks right into....

 

 

THE POKERAP!!!!!!

 

 

Ash throws Tom's arm over his shoulder to set up the uranage, and the fans pop like crazy. Ash lifts Flesher up for the throw... wait, no he doesn't. Flesher plants his foot and wraps the near leg around Ash's to keep him from completing the slam. Ash tries again... no dice. Finally, Flesher limps his arm out from behind Ash's shoulder, throws it across his chest and ducks under the extended arm. He spins out, keeping the leg grapevined, and takes Ash to the mat in a cradle for

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

But Ash kicks out! Flesher stays on him and pounds him with a shotei, then pins his shoulders for

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

But Ash kicks out again, this time rolling to his stomach. Flesher stays mounted and starts unloading palm strikes to the back of Ash's head! So occupied with battering the Cerebral Prankster, Flesher barely notices that Ash is slowly pulling himself toward the ropes. When Ash finally gets within lunging distance, Flesher unloads a particularly stiff strike to the back of Ash's neck, stunning him and leaving him presently motionless. With that, Tom leans down and throws in his double grapevine, immobilizing Ash's legs. Then, taking advantage of Ash's inability to fight back, Flesher snakes his right arm under Ash's neck and locks on a Dragon Sleeper, securing the Superior Stretch Beta! The fans begin to boo loudly as Flesher cranks the dragon sleeper/camel clutch variant, with Ash slowly coming to the realization that he's in trouble. On the sidelines, Misty shouts, "COME ON, ASH! GET THE ROPES!" The fans start a quick chant of "GO ASH GO! GO ASH GO!" and a few seconds later, Ketchum reaches out and is able to get hold of the bottom rope. A brief round of applause follows as Flesher releases the hold and backs into the center.

 

"Superior Stretch Beta doesn't do the job," notes Stevens, "but one has to wonder how long Ash is going to be able to use the fans for extended bursts of energy."

 

"You mean like Ashing Up?"

 

"What?"

 

"You know, Ashing Up!"

 

Stevens gulps and looks at the camera. "I assure you that I have absolutely NO idea what you're talking about, nor are we infringing the copyright owned by Marvel Comics and licensed to TitanSports."

 

"I'm just saying."

 

Ash groggily pulls himself up using the ropes, but before he can come to the center, Flesher charges at him and nails him in the head with a Yakuza kick that sends him flipping over the top to the outside! Flesher backs away as Misty runs over to help Ash. Acting largely on instinct, Ash pulls himself back to his feet using the apron and looks into the ring.

 

 

This time, he's not so lucky.

 

 

Flesher charges at Ketchum and grabs the middle rope, swinging like a pendulum into a baseball slide dropkick to the face! The Undercard King collapses to the concrete, and Flesher walks away, taking a rest by leaning arrogantly in the corner while Misty tries to help her future husband and the father of her baby up to his feet. Being very careful not to put him in any danger, Misty helps Ash to his feet and makes sure the coast is clear before she helps him back into the ring. Groggily, Ash looks across the ring at his adversary, realizing that Flesher's simply not the same competitor he's wrestled on five occasions before. With that in mind, Ketchum walks across the ring and motions Flesher for a lockup, symbolically starting over.

 

Flesher struts out to the center and locks up. Quickly, though, Ash shoves him away and hits a standing hook kick that staggers him. Ash follows that up with another kick, somewhat sloppy but still on the mark, that nails Flesher in the chest and knocks the wind out of him. A third kick, this one to the head, knocks Flesher for a loop and sends him to the mat. The gauze bandage on Tom's forehead comes fluttering off with the final kick, and as Ash follows him to the mat, he hits a quick falling elbowdrop that reopens the oozing forehead wound. Ash covers the stunned Flesher for

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

but no more, as Flesher kicks out and rolls to his stomach, hugging the mat in a strong amateur ground position. Ketchum sees that and immediately backs away. Riley says, "What the hell is he-?" Mid-sentence, the normally reserved Stevens interrupts, "Well, Bobby, he's obviously acknowledging that he can't outwrestle Tom Flesher, but he can beat him into submission."

 

"Well of COURSE he can't outwrestle Tom Flesher! Who can?"

 

"You're missing the point, Booby. For the majority of this match, Ash has been trying to use holds with Flesher, who's simply been training counters for them for the time since he found out that Ash would be getting this title shot. Thin about it. He countered the Bind with a Japanese armdrag, the K-Cutter with a German suplex and the PokeRap with a standing inside cradle. Ash would be foolish to keep trying to hit signature moves, so he's sticking to the places he CAN beat Flesher: He's faster, and he's a stronger striker."

 

Riley thinks that over for a moment, and then says, "You know, you'd be on to something if Flesher wasn't so damn superior."

 

With blood beginning to drip out of his wound, Tom starts to get back to his feet, but Ketchum puts him back down with another kick to the back. Ketchum continues putting the boots to Flesher until he rolls out of the ring, staggered and wanting to avoid any more immediate contact. Ash starts to follow him out, but Misty, rattling like the deus (dea, actually) ex machina that she is, yells at Ash to stop, that that's what Flesher wants him to do. Ash nods, thanking his future wife for the advice, and Flesher just glares over at the Cerulean Beauty before rolling back into the ring. Ash is waiting for him with a running legdrop, which Flesher dodges by mere inches. With Ash thusly on the mat, the Superior One grabs his left leg and drags him a few inches, then turns and sits into a crossover half crab. Before any damage can be done, however, Ketchum quickly grabs the ropes. Flesher cranks the hold for the full four-count before releasing it.

 

With the rope break, both competitors come back to the center. Ketchum avoids a lockup and throws a quick roundhouse kick, which Flesher dodges before booting Ketchum in his straight left knee. He follows up with a quick shotei to the chin, then combos that with another stiff kick to the left knee. With Ketchum thusly stunned, Flesher shoots in with a single-leg takedown on the left leg and spins through into a half crab. Ash tries to extend the leg, but can't. Thinking quickly, he cocks his free right leg back and kicks Flesher as hard as he can in the back. Flesher loosens up, but retains his hold. Ketchum cocks the leg again and kicks Flesher in the back, but once again Flesher keeps the hold. The fans once again start clapping and chanting for the Hero From Pallet Town, and one more stiff kick to the back frees him from the crab hold, to applause from the Denver crowd.

 

Ash spins around on his stomach, quickly grabbing Flesher's ankle to keep him from getting away. He stands up and locks his hands around Flesher's waist, then arches back to look for a German suplex. Flesher, acting largely on instinct, throws his leg in and blocks the throw. As Ash puts him back down, Flesher hits a standing switch and ends up behind Ash with his hands locked in place for a German of his own. He quickly arches back, and Ash counters by leaning all his weight forward. Flesher seizes the opportunity, running forward and forcing Ash into the ropes. Ash attempts to hold the top rope, but Flesher rolls backwards with a handful of Ash's tights and pulls the challenger down with him! He completes the Rolling Prawn hold, coming up on top in position for a fall! Eddy Long looks at Flesher's handful of tights and points, shouting "NO!" Flesher sighs and releases his opponent, sending Ash rolling through to his feet. Flesher argues with Long about the non-count, just in time for Ash to lock his hands around Flesher's waist and push him into the ropes for a Rolling Prawn of his own! As they're rolling through, Flesher grabs Ketchum's tights and uses the leverage to end up on top once again! Long yells "NO!" again and once again, Flesher releases Ketchum, this time spinning around to face him, the crowd applauding both competitors.

 

"What a sequence from these two athletes!" says Grand Slam. "They know each other's strengths, each other's weaknesses! It's like each man is thinking three moves ahead for the other!"

 

"Are you kidding me? Ash can't think that far ahead! He can barely tie his shoes!"

 

"Oh, come now! He's been active in this league longer than most of the people here now!"

 

"All that proves is that he's too stupid to get a real job... like... um... announcing!"

 

Ash and Flesher circle around each other, with Flesher nailing a few quick jabbing kicks to Ash's leg before Ash can respond. Ash, distracted by the quick, popping kicks, allows himself to get into bad position, and Flesher grabs his arm and starts to whip him to the ropes. Ash reverses the move, though, and sends the bleeding Flesher to the ropes. As Flesher rebounds, Ketchum... er... catches him and slams him to the mat with a powerslam! The loud THUD echoes through the Pepsi Arena as Ash covers Flesher for

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

TH- NO! Flesher kicks out, despite having the wind knocked out of him. Ash sees Flesher getting to his feet and quickly makes a dash for the ropes. He climbs up to the top rope, turning back now and then to make sure that Flesher is still groggily staggering around the ring. Ash flips backwards, twisting in the air into a 450 splash, ready to go for the phoenix tornado DDT that was the original PokeBall, Go! Flesher looks up, sees the 258-pound Pallet Town monster flying at him....

 

 

 

And sidesteps, leaning on the ropes and smirking as Ash hits the mat belly-first, a THUNK resonating through the arena. Flesher grins at the motionless body, then steps on Ash's back, walks across it and waves to Misty before blowing her a kiss.

 

 

The crowd, simply put, explodes in a chorus of boos!

 

 

Flesher leans over the top rope and yells to Misty, "Hey, you wanna come back up to my hotel tonight?" The crowd continues pouring heat on him as he says, "I'll give you my hotel key!" Misty smiles and nods at him, prompting a collective gasp from the crowd. An appalled Grand Slam shouts, "What's she doing?!" while Bobby Riley simply frowns enviously. Flesher grins lustfully at Misty's buxom body...

 

AND GETS SCHOOLBOYED!!!!!!

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THR- NO!!!!!!! Flesher kicks out, surprised, as Misty blows a kiss to Ash. "It was a ruse!" grins Stevens. "Misty got him!"

 

"Oh, come on. She would have gone back to his hotel room at the drop of a hat," spits Riley. "Damn gold digger."

 

Flesher pops back up, mad as hell. He walks right into a kick to the head, further reopening the wound on his forehead. With that, Ash grabs Flesher by the wrist and armdrags him back to the mat. He steps over to look for a pumphandle armbar, but Flesher wriggles free before Ash can lock up the hold. With the hold broken, Flesher remains on the mat and attempts another single-leg takedown. Familiar with the game plan by this point, Ash sidesteps and immediately backs away to avoid any sort of follow-up. As Flesher comes back to his feet, Ash floors him with a running clothesline, and covers him for

 

ONE

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

TH- KICKOUT! Flesher rolls to his stomach, and once again, Ash backs away. "Smart move again buy Ash," says Stevens. "He's sticking with the strategy of staying away from mat-wrestling Flesher, which as noted is the best thing to do."

 

Bobby sighs, "He should have just forfeited."

 

Flesher comes back to his feet, just in time for Ash to grab his wrist and start to whip him to the ropes. Tom plants his feet, though, and shifts his weight to send Ash to the side instead. Ash rebounds, and as Flesher sees him coming, he falls into position, catches the PokeFreak and uses his momentum to send him soaring overhead with a Railgun Suplex! Ash hits the mat hard, and Flesher gets back to his feet a notch more quickly than his opponent. As Ash comes back to his feet, Flesher grabs him and whips him to the ropes again. Ash, too stunned to fight the whip, rebounds and Flesher once again catches him with a Railgun! This time, Ash gets back up more slowly, and Flesher takes advantage by spinning behind him. As soon as Ash makes it to his feet, Flesher locks his hands around his waist and arches his back, releasing Ash in mid-air with a stiff German suplex! Looking satisfied, Flesher drops down onto Ash, draping his body across his adversary's, and looks expectantly at the official. Eddy Long counts

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THR- NO! Ash kicks out, and Flesher looks somewhat surprised. He yanks the Pallet Town native to his feet and locks his hands around his waist, then throws him overhead in a lower-amplitude belly-to-belly suplex. On impact, Tom releases Ash, then rolls him over onto his stomach. Flesher reaches under the motionless Ketchum's body and locks his hands around his waist, then lifts him up as high as he can. Showing amazing strength and drawing a "What a maneuver!" from Bobby, Flesher lifts Ash up from the mat and tosses him back in a stiff bridging German suplex, then holds him for

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THR- NO!!!!!! Ash somehow manages to break the grip and roll out before the three-count, and the fans are amazed! Stevens intones, "What resilience from the challenger this evening! Tom Flesher has just nailed five consecutive suplexes, and Ash Ketchum just kicks out of pin attempt after pin attempt!" Bobby Riley begins biting his nails.

 

For his part, Flesher looks genuinely surprised and more than a little upset. With Misty, the former college cheerleader, leading them on, the fans start to clap and chant "GO ASH GO! GO ASH GO!" A bit put off by the fans' reaction, the Superior One yanks the PokeFreak to his feet and spins behind him, crossing his arms across his waist. After making sure the grip is tight, Tom arches back, throwing a picture-perfect Straitjacket suplex! Bobby Riley shouts, "This HAS to be it!" as Eddy Long drops down to the mat and counts

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

BUT WAIT!!!! Misty yells and points to Long, and he sees Ash's feet trapped in the ropes! He waves off the pinfall, much to the frustration of Flesher.

 

And, of course, Riley.

 

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?! Everybody knows that if you're down for three, the match is over!"

 

"His feet were in the ropes, Bobby. The pin's not legal."

 

"The manager can't correct the referee!"

 

"She can and should point it out to the official, Bobby, to make sure he gets the right result of the match. You wouldn't want a tainted champion, now would you?"

 

"I just want Flesher, dammit!" Stevens coughs, prompting Riley to respond, "Oh, you know what I meant, you damn pervert!"

 

Flesher stomps to the center of the ring while the groggy Ketchum tries desperately to regain his lost equilibrium. As he stares at his crimson-masked opponent, Ash hears the fans chanting "GO ASH GO! GO ASH GO!" and, suddenly, the look in his eyes shows that he's getting his second wind. He stands up, groggy at first, but regains balance and poise with each step toward the center. Flesher sees him coming and hits him with a palm strike, but Ash shrugs it off and keeps forcing himself closer to Flesher, balling up his fists and staring angrily at the man who would dare try to say he was better.

 

 

Who better than Ketchum?!

 

 

NOBODY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

Flesher throws another shotei, which Ash doesn't even bother to react to! Riley shouts, "He's Ashing Up!" Stevens responds by yelling, "COPYRIGHT MARVEL COMICS!!!!!!!!!!!" as Ash completely ignores another palm blow! With that, Ash's anger boils over, and he throws a hard right hand that nails Flesher in the face! Flesher staggers backwards, all to a violent cheer from the fans, and Ketchum follows it up with another punch! Once again, Flesher staggers, and this time, Ash winds up to throw a haymaker! He throws his fist forward, ready to completely decimate Flesher in one hit!

 

 

 

Flesher slips off to the side, avoiding the hit completely! With that, he nails Ash with a pair of quick kicks to the left kneecap, and then winds up to nail the Undercard King with the bitchiest bitch slap felt this side of New York City! Riley, clearly impressed, says, "He no-sold the Ash Up! He no-sold it!" As the loud SMACK echoes through the Pepsi Arena, Ash grabs his stinging cheek. Flesher smirks at the challenger for just long enough to take a quick breath, then nails him in the forehead with a right-handed palm strike that levels the PokeFreak and sends him crashing to the mat! Flesher drops down with a slightly more technically-sound pin than usual, this time bothering to hook the leg, as Eddy Long counts

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THRE- NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Almost in unison, Flesher and Riley scream, "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!" A moment later, though, a grin spreads across Flesher's face. The proverbial lightbulb goes off over his head, and his facial expression is a bizarre mixture of genius and sadism. He lifts the limp Ketchum up by the scruff of his neck, bitchslaps him again, and leans in close. The camera picks him up saying, "Do you remember the first time we fought, little man? Do you?"

 

"Bobby, what do you think he meant by that?"

 

"God, Mark, I don't know! The first time they fought was when Ash won the SJL World... oh, god."

 

Riley stands up on his chair, cups his hands around his mouth and hollers, "MEDIC!!!!!!" at the top of his lungs. With that, Flesher releases Ash's neck and switches off to a gutwrench lock. The champion lifts the challenger up perpendicular to the ground, and quickly sits out. Ash's head and neck slam into the mat, the spine compressed by the...

 

"EGO BUSTER!!!!!" Stevens can't help but be excited by the side piledriver that Flesher's made his signature move. "Ego Buster by Tom Flesher, and this one looks to be over!"

 

"Um, Mark?" Riley prods his announcing partner, but before he can get another word in, Flesher covers Ash arrogantly. Eddy Long counts

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

NO!!!!! Flesher grabs Ash by the hair and pulls him up! With a great deal of conceit and arrogance, Flesher slaps his adversary once more across the face, and then lifts him up.

 

"Mark, I think Flesher's trying to show Ash up! This was how the very first match they ever had ended!"

 

"What the....?

 

Flesher whips Ash into the corner, and then charges in at top speed, nailing him with an avalanche to knock the wind out of him!

 

"History's repeating itself, Mark, but Flesher's going to hit the Boilermaker this time! Last time it was Ego Buster, avalanche, but Ash countered the Boilermaker! He hit the phoenix splash tornado DDT and pinned Tom to win the SJL World Title!"

 

"Bobby, Ash can't take any more head trauma!" Stevens' genuine concern shows through his announcer facade. "What the hell is wrong with Flesher?!"

 

"You'd do the same thing." Riley checks his notes, and then adds, "Oh, Mark, you're supposed to tell me to start jumping on a pogo stick."

 

"Shut UP, Bobby."

 

Ash practically collapses from the avalanche, something Flesher hasn't used to set up the Boilermaker in ages. Flesher, using the last ounce of strength left in his bloodied body, hoists the 258-pound Ketchum to the top rope. Tom slowly climbs to the top rope, pausing to take in every second of anticipation leading up to his revenge on Ash Ketchum for stealing his SJL World Championship. Revenge from the SJL, dating back to May 8th... nearly four months in the making. Almost acting on reflex, he starts a golf clap for himself, right there on the top rope. The crowd, incensed at the show of sheer egotistical sack, starts up a "YOU SUCK DICK! YOU SUCK DICK!" chant. Finally, Flesher locks on the front facelock, and begins the slow lift that will send Ash headfirst into the mat, preserving his SWF US Championship.

 

But wait? What is this! Lo and behold! As Tom tries to lift Ash up... he can’t! Ash is grabbing the top rope to resist Tom’s move! Tom forcibly tries to remove the hands from the top rope, but upon doing so, the bigger Ash pushes against Tom’s chest, shoving him from the top rope and onto his back as he slams into the mat, Ketchum alone on the top rope as the crowd cheers! With that, Riley looks up, and just after he winces, he shrugs and says, "Wow. History DOES repeat itself. That's EXACTLY what happened last time."

 

Meanwhile, Ash, on the top rope, turns his back to Flesher. As Flesher gets up and turns his head up and looks toward Ash, spotting him on the turnbuckle, Ash... doesn't leap off. Still groggy from the Ego Buster and suplexes, he has a moment of unsteadiness, and Flesher takes advantage by running in and nailing a shotei into the pit of Ash's knee! Ash collapses into a sitting position on the top turnbuckle, facing the crowd, and Flesher nails him with another quick shotei, this one to the back of the head. "HE BEAT IT!!!! HE BROKE THE SEQUENCE! HISTORY DOES NOT REPEAT ITSELF!!!!!" shouts Riley, thrilled to see Flesher overcoming the curse of his past losses.

 

"He hasn't won the match yet!"

 

"Oh, shut the fuck up and let the man have his moment!"

 

With Ash seated limply on the top rope, Tom shouts out, "YES!!!!!!!!!!" He positions himself next to Ash, and pulls the PokeFreak down from his sitting position into a torture rack. Taking a quick shuffle to the side, Flesher enters a controlled fall, and like a grape being squished by a serf, Ash's head impacts the mat in an absolutely sick Burning Hammer.

 

"Dear God!!!!!" says Stevens. "Ash Ketchum may be DEAD!"

 

"Oh, you and your melodrama."

 

Flesher smirks, slowly rolling over and arrogantly draping himself across Ash's body. Eddy Long drops down and counts

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

DING DING DING!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

Flesher's t-shirt is soaked in his own blood. His face is dyed red by his own lifeforce. He is battered, beaten and bruised.

 

And for what? To keep something he had anyway?

 

No. As Eddy Long raises Flesher's hand and hands him his United States title belt, as Funyon calls out for the world to hear, "Your winner and STILL SWF US Champion, 'the Superior One,' TOM FLESHER!!!!!!" Flesher's spirit shouts through his body. Finally, he's gotten it back. He's beaten the one man who stole his belt, ruined his party, took away his identity for a month and a half.

 

But it's not over yet. Oh no.

 

Callously, Flesher slings the US Title into the corner, where it lands next to the Light Heavyweight strap. Ash, still motionless, lays spread-eagled in the center. Flesher strides over and deliberately places the sole of his Doc Marten boot on Ash's face. With sheer disregard for Ketchum's dignity, Flesher scrapes the boot across his fallen opponent's face. On the outside, Misty begs for Eddy Long to stop the extracurricular activity. Long protests that he's powerless now that the match is over, and then gets the hell out of dodge.

 

"Tom, what are you doing? What do you have left to prove?!"

 

Riley grins internally while trying to sound objective. "Oh... I think I know...."

 

Flesher rolls the limp Ketchum to his stomach, then carefully squats down and locks his hands around the PokeFreak's waist. As the crowd utters a collective gasp, and Riley mutters something about one last score to settle, Flesher hoists Ash into the air. Grunting from the difficulty of the move, the added weight he's carrying, Flesher backs slowly toward the ropes.

 

"Jesus Christ!"

 

"No, just the Superior One."

 

Flesher arches backwards, then releases Ketchum in mid-air from the released German suplex over the top rope. As Ash falls to the floor, Flesher spins around and looks down. As soon as Ash's 258 pounds land flat on his back on the outside, Flesher yells, "NO-SELL THAT, JACKASS!"

 

Suddenly, the crowd bursts into applause. Flesher looks up, completely confused. (He may be delusional, but even HE knows he wouldn't get cheered for trying to cripple the friendliest guy in the SWF.) Running down the aisle is...

 

"TOD DEKINDES!!!!! Bobby, it's Tod deKindes!!!!!!"

 

"What the hell is that commie bastard doing here?!"

 

"...commie?"

 

Tod runs into the ring. Without stopping, he charges across the squared circle and tackles Flesher. He mounts and rains punches down on the US Champion, looking mad as hell. Flesher, caught by surprise, can't do anything except try to block the blows!

 

"Look at this! Tod deKindes has come out to save his X Force 9 stablemate!"

 

Acting on adrenaline, the XF9 member yanks Flesher to his feet and slams him to the mat with a DDT, then floats over and nails him in the face again! With that, he lets Flesher roll away, clutching his face. Tod slides to the outside to check on his stablemate, and Flesher grabs his belts and walks to the back.

 

"Tod deKindes makes the save after Tom Flesher assaults Ash Ketchum!"

 

"... Following a successful title defense! Jesus, give the man some credit!"

 

"Tod's mad as hell at Tom Flesher! He's here to make a difference, to show X Force 9 how to win at all costs! You have to believe there's going to be fallout from this one! We'll be back!"

[Guest BA_Baracus]

‘Dung’

 

“Well, you sure you’re up for it?”

 

‘Dung’

 

“Son, I’ve been paying attention to the SWF and I’ve never seen so many people trying their ass of… These young kids busting their ass night in and night out just to get notice, and even if they lose they’re happy that they are a part of the SWF. That’s what I wanted to see for a long time. But ever since I retired Thugg, which by the way was a bad thing, people just stop trying and I got frustrated, but now, I’m hype, I’m ready to do some work.”

 

‘Dung’

 

“Well, the question is, you sure you want to be a XF9???”

 

‘Dung’

 

“Who was the only one that called me for this? You… You’re the only one that actually told me to come back and I was made an offer I couldn’t refuse. Even though we had drama back in the day, you didn’t let that affect our professionalism and our work ethics, and for that I thank you… You already know my answer, but I want the whole world to know the truth and I will go to the ring…”

 

‘Dung’

 

“I will go to the ring and say what I have to say. Speak the truth, speak what it’s on my mind”

 

‘Dung’

 

“Now, I want you to come with me so they can see why I’m back… Is that cool with you?”

 

‘Dung’

 

“Sure…”

 

-------------- Later That Night ---------------

 

“I’m back…”

 

‘Dung’

 

“Home.”

 

‘Dung’

 

“When I retired I went through so much drama that I needed to go home and” points to the ground “This is home.”

 

‘Dung’

 

“Ok, now about me being a X Force 9…”

 

‘Dung’

 

“I love this fed and I want to do anything and everything in my power to help it. LDP asked me to become an Force 9, well my answer is…”

 

‘Dung’

 

“Hold up, wait a damn minute…”

 

‘Dung’

 

“What do you want Stubbs?”

 

‘Dung’

 

“You out of my federation… You don’t work for us anymore…”

 

‘Dung’

 

“You know what, I aint even gon’ argue with you, because I’m still going to lose… You’re the owner of this company, you run this shit, and I don’t… I’m just going to leave. LDP, talk to me when this guy realize that he fucked up aight?”

 

‘Dung’

 

“They don’t own half of the money that I own put together… They don’t own this business therefore it’s my federation… You have no right and I repeat, no right what’s so ever to do that. That’s why you’re going to pay.”

 

‘Dung’

 

“Yeah, with what?”

 

‘A loud whistle is heard, and by every second it pass it goes lower and lower…’

 

‘BOOM’

 

Right between the eyes, a chair shot heard all around the world… The chair goes right through LDP’s head as Lerrin lays him out.

 

‘Dung’

 

“No one can help you now LDP… Lerrin, finish him…”

 

‘Dung’

 

[‘I need a hero, I need a hero that can help me all through the night…and he got to be strong and he got to be fast, he got to be up for the fight.’]

 

“Bo’s back, Bo’s back, Bo’s back!!!” Screams Mark.

 

Stubby leaves the ring and Lerrin throws a right hand, but it’s blocked as Bo smacks him with a right hand, another one, and another one causing Lerrin to fall back towards the ropes. Bo takes a few steps back, rushes forward and clothesline Lerrin over the top rope but the quiet storm lands right on his feet and slams the apron with his hand in fury…

 

‘Dung’

 

Bo still has LDP’s arm up as they walk around the ring, listening to the chants and cheers of victory.

 

‘Dung’

 

All of a sudden Bo quickly pulls LDP’s arm…

 

‘Dung’

 

Grabs the head of LDP

 

‘Dung’

 

Shifts his body around

 

‘BOOM’

 

PERFECT PAIN!!!

 

 

 

“The only time he knew me was when I pimped him around when he was back in the JL and had that fight against Mistress Hoe, and the funny part the bitch is with him now.”

 

‘PERFECT PAIN’

 

“LDP, you want the drama, then I’m gonna pull out the armor, that’s word to my mama.”

 

‘PERFECT PAIN’

 

 

"Perfect Bo. You know I've heard an awful lot about you in the last couple of years. Perfect Bo, one of the most aggressive sumbitches in the bid'ness.”

 

‘PERFECT PAIN’

 

“Perfect Bo, who apparently thinks of himself as some kind of bad ass, but who in reality is little more than an Imperfect Bonehead! Let me tell you something, Bo. You may call me a 'youngster,' just because I haven't been around the SWF very long, but you have no idea what you're talking about. I'm 35 years old, dumbass. I have a thirteen-year career in the bid'ness and I've held four world titles over the course of that career. My record as a champion speaks for itself.”

 

[The screen shows a picture of LDP holding the world title.]

 

"You know something, Bo, this isn't the first time you and I crossed paths. Remember a certain World title tournament in the IGNJL over a year ago? In case you don't, let me show you."

 

‘Dung’

 

[EC: Kluk! This one's over! All Longdogger Pete has to do is touch both feet on the ground and he's advancing to the final round!

BobbyR: WAIT! WHO'S THAT COMING DOWN THE RAMP!?!

EC: KABOOM! It's Perfect Bo!

BobbyR: PERFECT BO!? Of the IGNWF!? What's he doing here?!

 

‘Dung’

 

Sure enough, Perfect Bo heads down the ramp in a sprint. He reaches the bottom of the cage as Longdogger Pete prepares to jump off. Pete doesn't know he's there! Despite the loud booing of the crowd, he doesn't know! Perfect Bo stands under him and as Pete drops for the win, Bo catches him in midair!

 

‘Dung’

 

The referee complies and quickly unlocks the cage door. He throws it open and Perfect Bo shoves Pete back through the ropes and into the ring! Bo grabs the door and slams it shut, on Pete's leg! The weakened Longdogger Pete cries out and grabs his leg, only to have Perfect Bo slam the door on it again!

 

‘Dung’

 

Mistress Sarah finally makes it to her feet. She staggers a bit before stumbling to Pete. Sarah has to wipe the blood from her face to see. She grabs Pete's arm with a bloody hand and stands him up. Mistress Sarah turns with Pete's arm ...

 

BobbyR: Mistress Sarah's going for the Khamsin!

 

The crowd continues to boo at Perfect Bo's presence in the arena. Sarah holds the wrench, causing Pete to yelp in pain. He grabs his shoulder. Mistress Sarah throws her leg around and drops!

 

EC: The Khamsin! There you have it! The Khamsin!

BobbyR: Pete is out cold!

 

‘Dung’

 

Perfect Bo shakes a different side of the cage, urging Mistress Sarah on. He moves around to the side where she's climbing and waits below. Mistress Sarah reaches the top of the cage and straddles it. She sits there a moment, catching her breath. The crowd cheers as Pete starts to stir! Bo shouts at Sarah to hurry up! Mistress Sarah stands on the cage and faces Pete.

 

BobbyR: She's not going to do something stupid like we saw Pete do earlier, is she?!

EC: I hope not! She'll get killed!

 

Mistress Sarah raises weary arms to the crowd, and then falls ... backward!

 

BobbyR: WHAT IN GOD'S NAME IS MISTRESS SARAH DOING?!

EC: Perfect Bo is right there! CATCH HER!!

 

Mistress Sarah seems to fall forever, but Perfect Bo is right there. He catches her! Bo sets Mistress Sarah to the ground, holding her steady. The referee stands in shock for a moment, but regains his senses and waves for the bell.]

 

‘Dung’

 

“I don't care who you've got a beef with here in the SWF, but you aren't going to get anywhere until you've gone through me. I don't care what you think about my seven X Force 9 guys, just like I don't give much thought to your, what is it, two and a half, in Creative Control? It all comes down to just you and me, Bo. You and me. You've made this personal, so here it is. I'm laying it on the line for you. The challenge is made. Come Apocalypse... it'll be the Perfect One and the One Man Wrecking Crew... one on one. I await your answer."

 

 

‘Dung’

 

Longdogger Pete is also lying on the ground! A second perpetrator lays into Pete, lashing into Pete's legs with some vicious shots from a crowbar. Over and over the crowbar strikes across Pete's legs, doing their damage while Pete lies helpless. Finally the perpetrator decides he has had enough, and takes a step back from Pete.

 

‘Dung’

 

"You wanted your answer, LDP," says Perfect Bo, "and now ya got it. You and I, one on one at Apocalypse? It's on! But how will you be able to fight me," Bo wonders aloud, "if you aren't even able to walk down to the ring?"

 

‘Dung’

 

 

The screen shows the right side of Bo’s head looking at something…then it cuts off. The screen then shows the left side of LDP’s head and he’s looking at something…then a split screen appears and it shows both Bo and LDP looking at each other with an angry look. Screen fades away.

 

 

 

“Well, we just saw the little problems these two superstars has have towards each other…the animosity, the frustration, the pain and it will all come down tonight.”

 

“And then there was one…that’s what I will start calling this match, why? Because there is two fighting in a last man standing match and only one will stand…survive…the other one is underneath him.” Riley stated his part.

 

“If you didn’t noticed…LDP was attack on the legs by Bo and this may be a factor in this match.”

 

“It will be a factor…am I the only one that think what Bo did was the smartest thing? CC wants to get rid of XF9…they don’t talk about it but it’s true and what better way to take out that group by taking out their leader? Think about it…”

 

“I am, although I doubt that it will turn out that way, LDP is known as the human wrecking machine.”

 

“And your point is…Bo is also known as the perfect one, the hardcore god, the killing machine back in the day.”

 

“Just like you said, back in the day…”

 

“I have a question, how many world title shots have LDP had?”

 

“I have a question to answer that question…how many world title shots have LDP lost?”

 

“What are you trying to say?”

 

“I rather take my time in developing my skills and when I make it to the big dance…win it.”

 

“I rather make it to the big dance regardless…you know how it feels, know the atmosphere and every time you’re in it, you know what to expect and you will soon feel the thrill of victory…”

 

“…or once again taste the agony of defeat…” Mark said, interrupting Riley…not knowing if he was finished or not…

 

“Well, I really can’t wait any longer because I do want to see the return of Thugg who will get his ass kicked by Jay Dawg in a hardcore match.”

 

“Wont happen, but lets get this match started…”

 

"You will get yours...

you will get yours...

you will get yours...

you will get yours...

 

YOU WILL GET YOURS!"

 

After the fifth repetition of the opening line, an explosion of white pyro goes off on the stage, and then the entrance fills with smoke. Pete steps out and wastes little time getting to the ring, usually walking down the ramp with one arm raised in anticipated victory. The lyrics continue as he enters the ring.

 

“The following match is a ‘LAST MAN STANDING’ match for the number one contender of the Intercontinental-Television title…making their way to the ring, weighing in at 272 pounds from Miami, Florida, he is known as the Human Wrecking Machine, the leader of X force 9…LLLOOONNNGGGDDDOOOGGGGGGEEERRR PPPEEETTTEEE…”

 

‘You have no right to calm me down

…you were never that around

…and I have missed

 

Cold contagious

All the mighty mighty men

what you save is what you lose out in the end

Cold contagious

Cold contagious...!’

 

LDP slides in the ring and waste no time in going towards the nearest turnbuckle, he climbs it with passion and raises his right arm up in the air…foreshadowing a victory here and finally facing Chris Wilson after defeating Bo.

 

“I’m not too certain if LDP is 100% going into this match…look at his legs…they must be dying inside, the bones I mean.”

 

“Fortunately, his courage will be his down fall here…he have to understand that he’s human and a simple mistake…a slip up will cost him not only this match but probably his career…something that Bo and Creative Control want to see, hell, even I want to see it.”

 

“It wont happen…because not only is he courageous but he knows what to do and what not to do…he’s intelligent and that’s why I give him the nod in this match.”

 

“You seem to forget that this is not a straight out match…this is a last man standing match and with his legs being practically cripple…how is he going to stand?”

 

“You’ll see.”

 

The lights dim, The Tron awakes as Bo appears on the Tron saying: “I will not fall, I will stand tall, ya all are underneath me…” After that an Explosion blast right in front of the stage…after that explosion Bo continues to speak as he said the words: “I’m from the home of 9/11, the place of the lost towers, regardless of that we never lose power”. Another explosion comes and that’s when ‘New York City’ by Cam’ron and Jay-Z hits. The explosion leaves a pile of fumes and fog around the stage area…but when that clears up…standing in the mist of smoke…standing where the explosion started and ended is Bo.

 

“And his opponent…weighing in at 285 pounds…from the Bronx in New York City…Representing Creative Control…PPPEEERRRFFFEEECCCTTT BBBOOO!”

 

Bo has his head lowered to the ground, after a few seconds…he looks up…he hears the negative reaction… and not giving a damn as he dashes to the ring and slides in. He goes towards the near corner to the left…climbs to the second turnbuckle and looks at the crowd…he then looks behind him and sees LDP staring at him and the referee right in front of him preventing any kind of attack. Bo smiles as he slowly gets off the turnbuckle…not even raising his hand. Bo starts to limp around…holding his right knee and putting a face of pain…he looks up at LDP and stood straight up.

 

“This isn’t funny…that’s just disrespectful.”

 

“I think it was funny…and so what if it was disrespectful? It wouldn’t be Bo if he doesn’t do that.”

 

The disrespecting continues as Bo takes a few steps back…looking directly at LDP’s eyes and begins to do jumping jacks…displaying that his legs…knees is doing just fine. LDP looks at him, walks towards him without a limp and did the unthinkable…he spits right on Bo’s face.

 

“Now you can be assure that Bo’s mocking went out the window…look at his face, he’s pissed off.”

 

“Yep, I see and sense a early retirement for LDP.”

 

Bo wipes the saliva from his cheek bone…looks at it on his finger and then flicks it off his hand…the spit lands on the floor and Bo just stares at it…admires the fact that LDP has the nerve…the audacity to do what he just did…and that’s when a fist connects right on LDP’s cheek…stunning him. Meanwhile, the referee calls for the bell to start the match.

 

‘Ding, Ding, Ding’

 

 

Another right hand rocks LDP back towards the ropes…Bo grabs him by the arm and whips him across the ring towards the other ropes. LDP bounces back…see Bo bending over for a backbody drop but gets straighten up instead…the kick by LDP caused the machine to grab his leg in pain as he’s already showing signs of not being 100%.

 

“Oh.” Riley points towards the ring…“The match just started and he’s hurting already…this is going to be a long night for LDP.”

 

Bo quickly grabs his chest as he stood up…he sees LDP clutching his leg and that made Bo charge him but gets taken down with a Samoan drop that no one saw coming. Bo quickly grabs his lower back and is about to get up…LDP is still feeling the affect of the attack earlier in the week as he grabs his right leg. Bo is up already…LDP takes his time and sees Bo waiting for him…Bo throws a right hand once LDP is on his feet but the machine blocks the right hand attempt and throws a overhand right hand of his own, another overhand right hand rocks the perfect one back…Bo is by the ropes and that’s when LDP grabbed Bo’s arm and whips him across the ring…Bo bounces off and gets hit with a back elbow…Bo gets up quickly but as quickly he got up and gets put down with a clothesline and now LDP is pumped up… Meanwhile, Bo crawls towards the corner for a breather.

 

“It seems the leg of LDP isn’t hurting anymore…he’s taking it right to Bo and the perfect one is surprise.”

 

“Mental toughness…mental game…Bo will turn things around sooner or later, you just watch.”

 

LDP is fired up as the crowd jumps up for joy…he turns towards Bo and waves his hands stating for Bo to get up and keep going. Bo reaches to the top of the turnbuckle and pulls himself up…he shakes his head up and down stating that LDP got the better of him at that moment. Bo begins to sidestep around the ring…circling the ring as so is LDP. They get closer to each other and are about to lock up…they do so and LDP quickly grab Bo’s right wrist and twisted it to the side…after a few seconds in that position…LDP quickly formed that into a hammerlock…Bo taps his shoulder a few times…reaches back for LDP’s head but couldn’t find it…bend over and reached between his legs in order to trip LDP but that was unsuccessful…he looks back and connects with a back elbow, another back elbow causes LDP to let go of the lock…Bo quickly turns around and is about to charge only to get taken down with another clothesline.

 

“What’s wrong with Bo? Why isn’t he using his intelligence?”

 

Mark looks at him in a weird way as if he was about to laugh…

 

“What?” Asked Riley but he gets no respond from Mark.

 

LDP looks at Bo…the perfect one is about to get up…when he got on one knee LDP runs towards the ropes…he bounces off and sees Bo on both feet but not looking up…LDP is about to take him down with another clothesline…LDP gets closer to him and that’s when Bo looks up and does a desperation dropkick right on LDP’s right leg. LDP falls in pain…agonizing pain as he clutches the leg.

 

“That’s the break Bo was looking for…see, told you he was intelligent…”

 

“I know him longer so…no comment.”

 

The referee sees LDP lying on the mat and begins his count for the first time in this match…

 

‘One’

 

‘Two’

 

Bo gets up from the desperation move and sees LDP on the mat thriving in pain…Bo shoves the referee to stop the count…he grabs the leg and is about to do some work on the leg. He lifts the leg up high and kicks him right by the thigh…he quickly follows with an elbow drop right on the leg…Bo then grabs the leg and pulls back applying a variation of leg lock and pulls back causing the wrecking machine to scream like if there was a lose screw and it’s about to die out.

 

“He’s not going to get the win by making the man tap out…now, that’s not that smart…”

 

Riley exhales and said: “My foolish carnie…Bo isn’t trying to make him tap out, he’s softening the leg…so when Bo knocks him down at the long run, LDP wouldn’t be able to stand up and that’s how he’ll lose.”

 

Bo lets go of the lock but still has a hold of LDP’s leg…He pins the leg down to the mat as he gets on both his feet. Bo then does a variation of a handstand…once Bo starts coming down he drops both his knees on LDP’s leg. LDP is screaming in pain as he reaches towards his leg but dare not to touch it…Bo does the weird handstand again and once again drops both his knees on LDP’s leg, causing LDP to slam the mat in anger because he’s in excruciating pain. Bo gets up and at the same time he helps LDP up to his one leg…Bo scoops him up for a scoop slam…goes towards the ropes and throws him down…his right leg gets caught on the top rope before hitting the mat.

 

“Work on that leg Bo…you know what to do…you took Thugg out in a great fashion.”

 

Bo sees LDP holding his leg in pain…he then grabs the right leg of LDP and places it on top of the bottom rope…he then steps over LDP’s leg so that it’s in-between his leg, he clutches the top rope…pulls down on the ropes…shifts his body weight up in the air and comes crashing down on LDP’s leg with his BUTT.

 

“Ok, a leg is not suppose to bend that way…he did some major damage on it…I just know it.” Riley said…smiling a bit knowing that Bo is about to break his legs.

 

Bo does it again, crashing his BUTT on LDP’s leg…the screams…the redness fills his face…it’s unbearable. The perfect one goes through the ropes and onto the floor…he reaches in the ring and grabs LDP’s legs…he pulls the leg towards the corner post…Bo places LDP’s leg so that the post is between his legs…he grabs the right leg and pulls it towards the side…Bo then throws the leg right to the post causing LDP to scream. Bo looks at the legs of LDP…he starts to smile as he grabs both legs.

 

“Do it…” Riley said, with a weird look in his eyes as he slowly gets up from his seat. He repeats it… “Do it…” Riley continues to rise as he’s basically up to his feet…

 

“Sit down.” Mark said…pulling him down at the same time.

 

Bo crossed LDP’s leg into the figure four…he then drops down…he holds LDP’s legs with his arm then he puts his leg on top of LDP’s leg completing the corner figure four. LDP screams in pain.

 

The referee starts to count the disqualification 5 count at Bo because he’s using the corner to do something and LDP’s legs is under the ropes…

 

‘One’

 

‘Two’

 

LDP tries to use his upper body strength to pull himself out of the corner…but the pain is just too devastating.

 

“He’s going to break his leg…go for it Bo…go for it.” Riley said excited at the current events.

 

‘Three’

 

‘Four’

 

LDP has no where to go as Bo continues is path of mayhem to the leg…he’s about to break it…but when Bo heard the ‘4’ count he lets go of the lock and drops to the floor…Bo gets up and mocks the crowd who are booing him. Bo then slides in the ring and pulls LDP up to his one leg and delivers a right hand…knocking him down for the count as the referee does his job.

 

‘One’

 

‘Two’

 

“This can’t be it…LDP cannot lose by a punch.”

 

“He damaged the leg…there’s no way he can get up, trust me.”

 

‘Three’

 

‘Four’

 

LDP begins to crawl towards the ropes…refusing to give up…refusing to lose like this…refusing to let X Force 9 down.

 

‘Five’

 

LDP grabs the bottom and middle ropes and begins to pull himself up…he quickly reaches and grabs the top rope for more assistance.

 

‘Six’

 

LDP tries to put his knee on the mat but it quickly crumbles…Bo is seen smiling at the situation because he senses that he’s going to win…not later but now.

 

‘Seven’

 

He tries again and was successful…he quickly was able to put a foot on the mat with his hands still clutching the ropes, the top rope at that.

 

‘Eight’

 

Instead of pulling himself up by using the ropes he pushes himself up by using the ropes. Bo’s smile faded instantly as he sees LDP actually getting on his feet…LDP is now on one foot hopping around like a rabbit…he turns around to face Bo…their eyes connect as LDP slowly puts his right leg down on the mat…he trembles from the pain as he touches the mat with his right leg…the referee has his hands up waiting to count and say number ‘9’…LDP now puts some weight on the leg as he deeply exhales from the pain but takes it as he stood up straight.

 

“That’s BS…This is just like Tyson and Douglas…Everyone knows that was the slowest 8 to 9 count ever in boxing history because you and I know that was a 13 count…but it’s ok…Bo will get his revenge.”

 

“Who’s up? After every body in this table thought he was staying down…who was the only one that said he was going to get up?”

 

“Dude…” Riley looks around for a second. “There are only two of us.”

 

Bo goes charging and throws a right hand but that’s blocked…LDP begins to throw his onslaught of overhand right hands to the skull of Bo…another shot…another shot…4…5…6 shots in the row causes Bo to back up towards the ropes…LDP grabs the arm of Bo and whips him across the ring…Bo bounces off and comes running back towards the waiting LDP…but before LDP can do anything productive he gets taken down with a shoulder block right to his right knee…LDP flips over in pain as Bo gets up smiling.

 

“I guess your little come back goes down the hole right…Bo just made your dreams shattered into pieces.”

 

“The night isn’t over Riley…it’s far from over.”

 

LDP is lying on the mat back first…Bo grabs the right leg and begins to turn LDP over and himself over as well. LDP cannot fight off the move as he slowly but surely is turning over…LDP is by his side…Bo puts his knee about 2 inches below the back of the neck of LDP...as Bo pulls the leg way high in the air.

 

“Why can’t he just try to knock him out? Why does he have to abuse the leg and end LDP’s career? That’s not right…it’s not.”

 

“Just like I said before…it wouldn’t be Bo if he doesn’t do what he does.”

 

LDP is trying to grip the mat from the pain that he’s going through…but he couldn’t…he bangs the mat with fury…upset that he’s hurting and can’t do anything about it because this isn’t a regular match…the crowd is getting restless as they see the leader of the X Force 9 getting dominated easily…after about 20 seconds with the elevated single crab…Bo lets the leg drop to the mat…Bo looks at the referee then looks down at him…he then helps him up and applies a front face lock…he then drapes the arm over his shoulder…lifts him up vertically…but LDP somehow got out of it and slide down Bo’s back…he landed right behind him with one leg and quickly applies a waist lock…with the little strength he has left he lifts him up and over with a surprising German suplex…the lack of strength caused Bo to land right in the back of the neck and almost knocking him down…and their both down for the count.

 

‘One’

 

‘Two’

 

“Bo’s out…he’s out…he landed right on the back of his neck and I know that he’s out…”

 

“But LDP cannot get up…his leg is like twisted metal and I know that he won’t be able to get up.”

 

‘Three’

 

‘Four’

 

Bo finally opens his eyes but has yet to move a muscle…LDP is desperately crawling towards the ropes again for aid…

 

‘Five’

 

Bo finally accomplished some movement as he rolls to the side so he can see where he’s at and where the ropes are…LDP finally reached the ropes and clutched it…pulling himself near the ropes.

 

‘Six’

 

Bo was about 1 foot away from the ropes and all he had to do was basically reach for it and he grabbed the bottom one…LDP pulls himself up so that he’s capable to grasp the middle rope.

 

‘Seven’

 

Bo isn’t hurt that much as he’s already on one knee clutching the top rope…LDP is on both knees still trying to pull himself up.

 

‘Eight’

 

Bo pushes the ropes down for some leverage of getting himself to his feet…he did it. Meanwhile, LDP is on one knee, already yanking the ropes down to pull himself up.

 

‘Nine’

 

Bo stumbles up to his feet and looks to the other side where LDP stood at…Bo looks at the referee and he’s stalling to make the ten count…LDP, at this moment is pushing down on the ropes to lift him up to his feet.

 

“SAY TEN BASTARD!” Screams Bo out loud.

 

The referee glanced towards Bo but pay no mind to him…the referee has both hands up ready to say ‘ten’…LDP looks back to see the referee, he concentrates on the ropes as he makes the last effort to let go of the ropes and stand on his two feet.

 

“That’s the longest ten count I ever saw…and you know it’s true…”

 

“I’m not giving you the benefit of the doubt…therefore I stay quiet.”

 

“Cause you know I’m right.”

 

LDP finally stand on his two feet…pain going up and down his right leg as he continues to put weight on it…Bo is enraged at the outcome of the current events as he glance towards the referee…then looks at LDP, back to the referee, back to LDP…Bo finally charges LDP and swings a right hand but it’s blocked…and countered with right hand thrown by LDP rocking the perfect one back…another shot staggered the perfect one back towards the corner…three right hands follow before LDP grabs Bo by the arm and whips him across the ring towards the other corner…when Bo collides with the corner, the force made Bo stumble forwards as he hold his back in pain. Bo takes about 5 steps forward, not knowing that LDP was already in front of him waiting.

 

“How does he do it?”

 

“Do what?”

 

“How can a one-legged man dish out so much offence in a span of 30 seconds?”

 

“Because he’s…” Mark puts his arms up by his shoulders with his thumbs sticking out…he begins to motion his thumbs inward and said: “L…D…P”

 

Riley looks at Mark with a disgusting look. “Don’t do that.” Riley said, as he shakes his head no.

 

Bo finally reaches LDP and that’s when the one man wrecking crew kicks the perfect one in the gut…causing Bo to double over…LDP takes a few steps, disregarding the pain that he’s going through…jogs towards Bo…somehow jumps up in the air and delivers a scissors kick knocking the perfect one down…LDP screams in pain as he quickly grabs his right leg once he landed on the mat.

 

LDP tries to block out the pain as he struggles to get up…he hops a bit for a few seconds then limps his way towards Bo who is already on one knee…LDP waits for Bo to get up…Bo doesn’t see LDP as he finally gets up to his feet…the perfect one turns around and once LDP sees the face of Bo…Bo gets kicked in the gut causing him to double over…LDP quickly hooked both arms of Bo which caused the crowd to get up and cheer since they know what’s about to happen.

 

“No…he can’t do that now…it’s too early.”

 

“He has one leg…he wants to finish this early so he wont have to use that leg anymore.” Mark said.

 

Somehow, LDP found the vigor filled with rage and fury to lift Bo up about 2 feet in the air and drops him down completing the ‘Longdogger Clogger’…and Bo is knocked out.

 

“HE HITS IT…HE HITS IT…even I can’t believe it.”

 

Riley is panicking at this moment… “This can’t happen like this…Bo’s return to the PPV has to be a good one…and it will not end like this…it can’t end like this…I wont…err…I know Creative Control will not let it end like this.”

 

They are both down…one is knocked out the other one has one leg and is struggling to get up…the referee starts the last man standing 10 count.

 

‘One’

 

‘Two’

 

LDP gets on one knee…making faces of pain as he continues to work hard in trying to get to his feet.

 

‘Three’

 

‘Four’

 

LDP finally gets to his feet as he stumbles back towards the ropes…he leans on it for support as Bo is still on the mat…face down…knocked out.

 

‘Five’

 

‘Six’

 

All of a sudden the crowd jumps up and boos…they boo so loud that they could of broken a lot of glass material in the arena.

 

“Who the hell is coming now?” Mark asked with a disgusted voice.

 

Riley stood up to see up the stage… “It’s JD…he’s here to give a helping hand to who ever that needs it.”

 

“You damn hypocrite.”

 

‘Seven’

 

JD finally made his way down the ramp…

 

‘Eight’

 

JD jumped up to the apron and distracted the referee…the referee goes to him and tells him to get down from the apron…LDP sees the commotion and makes his way towards JD and begin to scream.

 

“The match is over…”

 

“No it isn’t…the referee still haven’t count to ten.”

 

“But the whole crowd counted to 15…I hate creative control…this match would have been LDP’s match if it wasn’t for CC.”

 

Bo rolls to the side and sees the argument LDP, the referee and JD are having and this gives Bo the opening to roll out of the ring…he lifts the apron from the floor and reaches in…apparently he got what he was looking for because he begins to pull out and reveals a steel chair. Bo quickly slides in the ring and waits for LDP to turn around while the referee is occupied with JD.

 

“Why does he have to do this…isn’t he perfect…he doesn’t need any help because he’s perfect…but yet he has to use someone else and a steel chair to get the advantage. Typical.”

 

LDP got tired of JD and is about to continue to do more damage on Bo…LDP waves his hands in a ‘forget about it’ way and turns around when…

 

“Doh…he’s out.”

 

Bo flings the chair towards the corner but it didn’t go out of the ring…Bo then lies down right next to him and pretended that he’s hurt as well. JD saw everything and jumped off the apron…the referee twirls around and sees both Bo and LDP on the mat and he begins to count.

 

‘One’

 

‘Two’

 

‘Three’

 

Bo opened his eyes and sees the referee counting them out and he starts getting up.

 

‘Four’

 

‘Five’

 

Bo finally gets up…but the unthinkable is occurring…LDP is moving and he’s trying to get to his feet as he rolls to his stomach and pushes himself up with his hands.

 

‘Six’

 

JD looks in the ring and he’s shock to see what’s going on…LDP is on one knee.

 

‘Seven’

 

Now he’s on one foot…

 

‘Eight’

 

The fans are cheering LDP on as he’s almost getting to his feet…

 

‘NINE’

 

Bo knew that he was going to get to his feet and decides to kick him in the gut, breaking the count…flipping him over. Bo maintains kicking him…but this time it’s more to the leg. Bo then helps him to his feet and grabs him by the arm…he attempts a whip but LDP reverses it and Bo goes towards the ropes…he rebounds off of them and sees LDP making a mistake in putting his head down too early for a back body drop attempt…Bo straightens LDP right up with a stiff kick to the chest…Bo tries to follow it up with a clothesline but LDP ducks it right on time...LDP turns around first and waits for Bo to turn around and when he does LDP swings a open right hand and grabs Bo by the throat…LDP then drapes Bo’s arm over his shoulder and is about to endeavor a chokeslam…he bend his knees a little and tries to lift him up and does so…but his right leg buckled and gave out knocking both of them on the mat. Bo is the one that isn’t hurt that much as he quickly gets on all fours…JD sees this going on and before the referee start counting both of them out he jumps to the apron to distract him.

 

“Not again…somebody is going to have to put a stop to this…”

 

“Who? Tell me…who has enough courage to go against creative control and not only that but go against King and Stubby…two people that run this business…tell me who?”

 

LDP looks back and see the referee distracted…he decides to roll out of the ring. Bo looks back and sees the referee distracted as well…he then looks to the side and sees the chair that he flung earlier and decides to get it. LDP lands on the floor…oh so desperately to not do any more damage to his leg as he choose to do what he can do…he lifts the apron from the floor and reaches in and takes out a chair. LDP then slowly, trying to not hurt his leg, slide in the ring…Bo reached to the corner and grabbed the chair…Bo looks back and sees LDP up with his back turn to him…LDP looks back at Bo and sees him getting up with his back turn to him.

 

“Um…do you think what I think might happen?”

 

“I think what you think that I think what you think might happen.”

 

“Err…right.” Mark said

 

All JD sees is Bo…he doesn’t realize that LDP has a weapon of his own…both LDP and Bo takes a few steps back…and once they sense that they are close to each other they both swing at the same time…a side swing right to the face and they both get knocked the hell out.

 

“Oh damn…”

 

“Oh Darn.”

 

The crowd goes soundless, as the referee cannot do anything else but to count them both out…

 

‘One’

 

‘Two’

 

No movement…nothing and the referee don’t know if there’s going to be a winner tonight in this match.

 

‘Three’

 

‘Four’

 

JD is getting afraid right now because Bo haven’t moved a muscle…but neither has LDP.

 

‘Five’

 

The crowd gets a bit jumpy at this moment…a low LDP chant commences.

 

‘Six’

 

Now there’s movement from both Bo and LDP…this causes the referee to take his time in counting because one can make it or they both can make it…this referee doesn’t want this match to end in a double knock out. Both LDP and Bo roll over so they can be lying on their stomach as they make their way in opposite direction but both going towards the ropes.

 

‘S-e-v-e-n’

 

“This is getting too close…who’s going to make it?”

 

“The question is not who is going to make it…the question is are they going to make it.” Mark corrected Riley.

 

They both clutched the bottom rope at practically the same time as they make their way to their feet.

 

‘E.I.G.H.T’

 

They clasp the middle rope and the top rope at almost about the same time…LDP is about 1 second earlier…they both are on one knee and this is making the crowd get hype.

 

‘N.I.N.E’

 

They both get to one foot as they push the ropes down to pull them selves up and to their feet.

 

‘T’

 

They are both on their feet…but they are both using the ropes to lean against…

 

‘E’

 

Bo takes a step forward towards the middle of the ring even though he’s out of it…LDP tries to take a step forward but his leg went out…HIS LEG WENT OUT AND DOWN HE GOES.

 

‘N’

 

“You’re OUT,” Screams the referee towards LDP waving his arms…meanwhile, JD quickly slide in the ring…Bo staggers a bit more and just buckled right on JD’s arm.

 

“AND THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH…PPPEEERRRFFFEEECCCTTT BBBOOO!”

 

{Insert Rocky Music right here}

 

“I can’t believe it…I just can’t…they both crack each other with a chair across the face and Bo got the win. That’s not fair.” Mark said a bit perturbed at the outcome of this match.

 

“I told you…the leg went out…it gave out because Bo was working on it like good sex and that’s why he got the win…great win for Bo.”

 

“Whatever…changing the subject, it seems that JD wants a mike.”

 

JD does reaches over the second rope for the mike and receive one…still he has Bo by his arm, practically carrying him. JD puts the mike towards his lips and said: “Perfect Bo…perfect Bo, you just went head to head with LDP how do you feel?

 

Breathing hard is Bo…still he managed to say… “Fine…I feel fine.”

 

Finally Bo gains some strength back as he’s standing on his own two feet…it seems that he’s looking for something or somebody.

 

“Good Bo…do you know that winning this match gives you the chance to go for the ICTV title?”

 

“Yeah…Where is he?”

 

“Who?”

 

“Wilson…”

 

“What?”

 

Bo took a deep breath with his eyes small…almost like if he was about to cry…and screamed… “WWWIIILLLSSSOOONNN…”

 

“Bo…are you sure that you want…” JD gets pushed out the way.

 

“WWWIIILLLSSSOOONNN…I’m ready to kill you.” A smile emerge on both of their faces as ‘New York City’ hits…JD drops the mike and both of them leaves the ring with a chorus of boos…JD raises Bo’s arm in victory as the leave the scene.

 

“I think he made it obvious that Bo wants Wilson…the question is…will he be able to get him?”

 

“Regardless if Wilson wins or lose tonight Bo will still get the chance to meet Wilson…why? Because the ICTV title is not on the line and Wilson has that title.”

 

“Bo and Wilson have a history…business wise they don’t like each other…personally they really don’t like each other…they’ve battled back and fourth in matches and it all comes down to one match…one singles match that signifies who is the better out of the two…and to tell you the truth…even though I hate him almost as much as Stubby…I think Wilson is better than Bo.”

 

“I think they are about even…they both won and lost against each other and I really think this will be an interesting match.”

 

“I know for a fact that Wilson is better than Bo…Bo never was champion and he never defeated me in a singles matches…Wilson have. Wilson will get the win.”

 

“Well, hopefully we will find out soon enough…I can’t wait for the next match, but the match that I’m waiting for is JD vs. HVille Thugg…JD, who we just saw right now, defend his Hardcore title against the returning monster…HVille Thugg.”

 

“The man should not be wrestling…I care about his health and his neck will be re-injured again…because JD will put his mind to attack the neck and HVille can protect it the best he can one some are going to go through.”

 

“Not only that…but he made it cleared that he has something up his sleeve…I hope we’ll get to see it tonight…” Riley said with anticipation.

 

“Hold on…I think something is going on in the back area…” Mark said, pressing his headphones tighter to his ears.

 

“We’ll be back with the next match after we see what’s going on in the back area…” Riley said, finishing off with this match.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

A slick video package hyping the evening’s Main Event finally wraps up, and is immediately followed by a shot of the inside of the Pepsi Arena, packed to the brim with thousands upon thousands of patiently-waiting fans. Apocalypse’s theme song hits the speakers once again, working the crowd into a frenzy as they anxiously prepare themselves for the next match. In the meantime, the camera cuts to Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley, who, as always, are planted behind the announce desk. The drunken yahoos in the few rows behind the announcers push and shove to get on TV while Stevens tries to speak above the din.

 

Stevens: And welcome back to SWF Apocalypse, where we make the end of all existence fun for the whole family!

 

Riley: If you’re just joining us, you have missed one hell of a first half! The Tag Team Titles were defended in an explosive Bomb Shelter match, Renegade and Sacred tore each other apart, No-DQ style, and Longdogger Pete battled with Perfect Bo in a beautifully brutal Last Man Standing Match! And that’s not even all the matches!

 

Stevens: But before we make you feel like too much of an idiot for missing those contests, we should remind you that there is much, much more to come! The Boston Strangler will take on Erek Taylor in the first ever Ladder-slash-You’re Fired match, Jay Dawg will fight for survival against the returning Hville Thugg in a Hardcore Championship Match, and Edwin MacPhisto will defend the World Title against his most hated enemy and bitter rival, Chris Wilson!

 

Riley: Speaking of the World Title, our upcoming match will decide the #1 Contender to that very Championship! Lerrin Breggan of Creative Control, Thoth of the Clan, and El Luchadore Magnifico of the Midnight Carnival will collide in a Three-Way Match for the #1 Contendership to the World Title!

 

Stevens: Three incredible talents get a shot at a shot at the World Title! Thoth has been chasing the Championship for quite a long time, and this could be his best chance at finally winning it. Breggan, on the other hand, is fairly new, and could easily cement his status as a Main Event player with a win here. On the third hand, Magnifico is a former World Champion, who has a chance to get back the Title nearly a year after he first won it! Everyone has something to prove here, and they’re going to do their damnedest to come out on top!

 

Riley: Jesus, are you done?

 

Stevens: Er-

 

Riley: Good! Let’s hand it over to Funyon!

 

As Stevens smacks Bobby upside the head, the camera cuts to Funyon, who is looking at his best in a neatly pressed tuxedo in bow tie. Suddenly, a Mexican voice comes over the loudspeakers, shouting, “UNO! DOS! TRES! CUATRO!” as a burst of pyro shoots from each corner in time with each shouted word. The fans burst into cheers as “Mission Trip to Mexico” by Bunch of Believers blasts over the PA, signaling the entrance for El Luchadore Magnifico! The man himself bursts out from behind the curtain, waving his Mexican Flag proudly and sporting a huge grin on his face. ELM quickly makes his way down the ramp, shouting to the fans and slapping their hands as he goes.

 

Funyon: The following is a Triple Threat Match, and it is for the #1 Contendership to the World Title, introducing first, from Mexico City, Mexico, weighing in at 190 pounds....El Luchadooooooorre Magnificooooooo!!

 

Right after his name is announced, Magnifico slides beneath the bottom rope, pops to his feet, then hops onto the nearby second turnbuckle. ELM resumes his wild flag-waving, sucking a little more heat from the crowd before hopping off and handing the flag to the ref. Magnifico begins his warm-up as “Mission Trip to Mexico” fades out, leaving only the low rumble of the excited fans. The rumbling turns into all-out booing as the lights go out, while Do or Die’s “Victory” blasts out over the arena. A few seconds go by, then the stage is lit up by a huge explosion of white pyro as the music picks up. When the explosion finishes, Lerrin Breggan can be seen standing on the center of the entrance ramp, glaring directly at the ring.

 

Funyon: And now, from Cincinnati, Ohio, weighing in at 285 pounds...Lerrrin Brrregaaaan!!

 

Lerrin stalks towards the squared circle, ignoring everything around him while keeping his eyes focused on the luchadore. He slides in under the bottom rope, pops to his feet and goes to his corner while the lights illuminate the arena once more. Breggan continues aiming his cold stare at Magnifico, who continues to stretch while facing away from the Ohioan. Suddenly, Lerrin charges out of his corner, heading directly for the luchadore! Breggan catches Magnifico completely by surprise, slamming his forearm into the back of the luchadore’s neck and driving him to the ground! Breggan immediately begins stomping away at Magnifico’s back, keeping him down on the mat no matter how hard ELM tries to get up! The crowd boos, while the ref shouts meaningless threats, trying to get Lerrin to stop!

 

Riley: That’s how you do it! Breggan immediately begins weakening his opposition, even before the final competitor arrives!

 

As Riley speaks, “Quarantined” by At-The Drive In kicks up as the normal arena lighting is replaced by a very dark blue ambience. The music continues to play, showing images of Thoth and his matches on the IGNTron. The beat, suddenly explodes, and the blue lights turn crimson red!

 

Stevens: Speaking of which, here comes Thoth!

 

A resounding reaction, mostly cheers, rises from the audience as Thoth appears from the entryway. The Balancer quickly makes his way down the ramp, eager to join in the action as Lerrin continues his assault. Thoth sheds his Clan robe right before reaching the ring and slides beneath the bottom rope, popping to his feet behind Breggan. The lights return to normal and “Quarantined” fades out as Lerrin turns around and takes notice of the Clannie who just entered the ring! Lerrin dashes towards Thoth and lashes out with a Clothesline, but Thoth easily manages to duck beneath it, turning towards Breggan as Breggan turns towards him! As he spins, the Balancer throws his arm out, driving it into Lerrin’s chest with a Knife Edge Chop! An excited WHOOO! rises from the crowd as Thoth hits another Chop, backing Breggan towards the ropes as the ref signals for the bell.

 

DING DING DING

 

Stevens: We’re officially underway, and Thoth is really taking it to Lerrin! He’s backing him up to the ropes with those vicious Knife-Edge Chops!

 

Eventually, Lerrin is up against the ropes, at which point Thoth grabs him by the arm and whips him across towards the opposite ropes. However, that’s also the direction Magnifico happens to be in, and as Lerrin approaches, the luchadore leaps into the air and kicks out his feet, driving them into Breggan’s face with a Dropkick! The big man is knocked to the ground as ELM pops back to his feet. Breggan tries to get back up by himself, but Magnifico grabs his arm as he’s standing while Thoth comes from behind and grabs the other. ELM and Thoth then Double Whip Lerrin towards the far ropes. Breggan bounces off and ruses back towards his opponents, and as he approaches, the luchadore and the Balancer bend over and grab one leg each, then suddenly stand up, throwing Lerrin a good seven feet into the air with a Double Back Drop! Breggan lands flat on his back in the center of the ring, creating a huge THUD! upon impact that draws excited cheers from the crowd. Right after Breggan lands, Magnifico begins approaching him, turning his back on Thoth. That turns out to be a mistake on the luchadore’s part, as Thoth suddenly comes up from behind Magnifico and captures him in a Rear Waistlock! However, ELM immediately begins fighting out of it, driving his elbow backwards into Thoth’s head in an attempt to loosen the grip! Eventually, Magnifico is able to escape the hold, twirling around to Thoth’s rear and applying a Rear Waistlock of his own! ELM suddenly charges towards the far ropes, driving Thoth in front of him and pushing him into the ropes! As Thoth hits the ropes, Magnifico tries to pull him backwards, hoping to use the bounce-back to pull the Clannie down into a Roll-Up! However, Thoth is able to hook his arms around the top rope, leaving Magnifico to roll backwards without a Thoth to Roll Up! The Balancer turns to face Magnifico, and as he pops to his feet, Thoth steps towards him and throws his leg into the air, slamming it into ELM’s chest with a High Leg Clothesline! Magnifico is knocked to the ground, but Thoth doesn’t get a chance to revel in the attack, as Breggan suddenly comes charging from Thoth’s right, throwing his foot into the air and slamming it into the side of the Clannie’s head with a Big Boot! The fans OHHH! in unison as Thoth lands right next to Magnifico, cradling his head in pain.

 

Stevens: Ouch! Breggan gets back in the match and immediately asserts his dominance, nearly taking Thoth’s head off with a big Boot!

 

Riley: Lerrin is the ideal competitor for a Triple Threat Match! He has more than enough strength, vitality, and stamina to outlast and overpower his competition.

 

Breggan delivers a few stomps each to Magnifico and Thoth, then grabs ELM by the arm and roughly jerks him to his feet. Using his grip, Lerrin whips Magnifico across the ring, towards the far corner. Magnifico crashes back first into the turnbuckles, his mouth agape at the shock of impact as Lerrin charges across the ring at full speed towards him! ELM is unable to move out of the way in time, as Breggan throws his entire weight into Magnifico, crushing him against the corner! A loud OHHH! rises from the crowd as Lerrin backs away, allowing Magnifico to stumble out of the corner before falling face-first to the mat. Breggan laughs to himself, then turns towards Thoth, who is on one knee and rising to his feet. Lerrin approaches the Clannie and reaches out to grab him, and as he does so, Thoth throws his fist out, driving it into Breggan’s gut! Lerrin absorbs the blow, stopping his progress as Thoth delivers another, and another, continually pounding away at Breggan’s stomach! Suddenly, Lerrin releases a shout and drives his arm downwards, slamming it into Thoth’s shoulders and knocking him back down to the mat! A few boos float in from the stands as Breggan grabs Thoth by the head and arm and pulls him to his feet. Lerrin then whips Thoth across the ring, sending him running towards the far ropes. The Clannie bounces off and rushes back towards Lerrin, and as he approaches, Lerrin grabs him by the chest and leg, lifting him into the air with a Gorilla Press! However, Thoth quickly slips out of his grip, falling from Lerrin’s hands and landing on his feet behind him! Breggan spins around to face Thoth, only to receive a stiff kick to the gut, doubling Lerrin over! As soon as Breggan is bent over, the Clannie hooks both of his arms and pulls Lerrin into position for a Double Arm DDT! But before Thoth has a chance to land the move, Lerrin suddenly breaks his arms free, using them to grab Thoth around the waist as he charges forward, pushing the Clannie violently in front of him! The ride ends when Thoth is slammed back-first into the turnbuckles, the impact causing him to arch his back in pain as he falls unceremoniously to the mat.

 

Riley: What did I tell ya? Complete overpowering and dominance!

 

Stevens: Maybe so, but we have yet to see his stamina that you speak of. We’ll have to see what happens should Thoth or Magnifico take control of the match.

 

Riley: Um, weren’t you listening? They won’t! It’s only a matter of time until Lerrin puts them away.

 

Breggan grabs Thoth by the hair and begins pulling him to his feet, but suddenly falls to the ground as Magnifico comes up from behind him and dives into his right leg, knocking him off his feet! Magnifico pops to his feet and begins stomping away wildly at Lerrin’s right leg as the big man struggles to get back to his feet. Right before Breggan can stand, Magnifico grabs him by the arm and attempts a whip, which Lerrin easily reverses, sending ELM rushing towards the far ropes. Magnifico bounces off and runs back towards Breggan, and as he approaches, Lerrin lashes out with his arm, looking to behead Magnifico with a nasty Clothesline! However, ELM manages to duck beneath his arm and keep on running, heading for the ropes behind Lerrin. Magnifico bounces off and rushes back towards Breggan as the big man turns around, and as ELM approaches, he suddenly jumps into the air and kicks out with his feet, slamming the into Lerrin’s right leg with a Running Dropkick! A cheer rises from the crowd as Lerrin falls to the mat, clutching his right knee as Magnifico hops back to his feet. ELM resumes his stomping of Breggan’s leg, but is taken by surprise when Thoth suddenly comes up from behind him, grabbing the luchadore around the waist and sticking his head beneath Magnifico’s arm! The Balancer then lifts ELM into the air and immediately falls backwards, slamming his neck and head into the canvas with a Back Drop Suplex! Magnifico rolls onto his stomach, cradling his head in pain as mixed reaction of mostly boos floats in from the crowd. Thoth delivers a few stomps to ELM’s back and neck, then turns his attention to Lerrin, who is starting to push himself back to his feet. Before he can do so, the Clannie grabs Breggan by the head, pulls him to his feet, and then snaps him forward while still holding the head, throwing Lerrin to the mat with a Snapmare! As Breggan sits on the mat, dazed, Thoth turns and dashes towards the ropes behind Lerrin. The Clannie bounces off and rushes back towards Breggan, but as he approaches, Lerrin suddenly pops to his feet and turns towards Thoth, throwing a stiff kick to the surprised Clannie’s gut and doubling him over! Wasting little time, Lerrin immediately applies a Standing Head-Scissors, grabs Thoth around the waist, and then hoists him up onto his shoulders for a Powerbomb! Thoth wildly throws his fist into Breggan’s skull, desperately trying to escape, but Lerrin manages to resist the blows and slams Thoth down to the canvas with brutal force, causing the whole ring to shake upon impact! The fans OHHH! in unison and then begin to boo as Lerrin nonchalantly falls to his knees and covers Thoth, hooking his leg as the ref slides into position...

 

ONE...

 

TWO...No! Magnifico charges across the ring and stomps Lerrin on the back of the head, breaking the cover. A few relieved cheers come from the crowd as Magnifico stomps away at Breggan while the big man tries to get to his feet.

 

Riley: What a preposterously powerful Powerbomb! Thoth is just lucky that Magnifico was able to break up the count!

 

Stevens: Just because you can use alliteration doesn’t mean you’re right, Riley. There’s no way Thoth would stay down after one power move, especially when something as valuable as the Number One Contendership is on the line.

 

Breggan continues rising to his feet despite the stomps, reaching one knee as ELM kicks away with all he’s got. Lerrin finally tries to stand, but as he does so, Magnifico grabs him by the arm and attempts a whip. Breggan reverses it once more, sending ELM rushing across the ring. The luchadore bounces off of the ropes and rushes back towards Lerrin, and as he approaches, Breggan shoots his hands out and wraps them around Magnifico’s neck, capturing him in a Choke Hold! ELM kicks wildly and tries to wrench away Lerrin’s hands as Breggan slowly lifts Magnifico into the air, his sadistic grin growing larger as Magnifico goes higher and higher. Just as his face begins turning blue, Magnifico rears back with one foot before suddenly driving it forward, slamming it directly into Breggan’s stomach! Lerrin winces, but doesn’t let go, as Magnifico rears back and delivers another kick! It takes five stiff kicks to do the job, but Breggan finally releases ELM, allowing him to fall to the mat as he grabs his stomach and doubles over in pain! Magnifico pops back to his feet and looks ready to go on the offensive, but he’s suddenly cut off when Lerrin delivers a stiff boot to his gut, immediately doubling Magnifico over! Breggan then applies a Standing Head-Scissors, hooks both of ELM’s arms, and lifts the luchadore high into the air before falling backwards, slamming Magnifico’s back into the canvas with a Double Underhook Suplex! ELM arches his back in pain as Lerrin floats into the pin, hooking the leg as the ref slides into position...

 

ONE...

 

TWO...No! Magnifico kicks out at two and a half, drawing a few relieved cheers from the crowd.

 

Stevens: Man, it seems like neither Magnifico or Thoth can make a single dent in Breggan’s armor. Unless they get some offense in, and fast, Breggan will surely finish one of them off.

 

Riley: Wow Stevens, you’re just full of tactical advice, aren’t you? Magnifico and Thoth should GET SOME OFFENSE IN! It’s so brilliant!

 

Stevens: At least I’m not the one giving Breggan a verbal blowjob and pausing only to use alliteration.

 

Stevens: Screw you, you bloody baseball buffoon!

 

Breggan rolls off of the luchadore and quickly climbs to his feet, then grabs Magnifico by the arm and begins pulling him to feet. However, he’s suddenly grabbed by the shoulder and spun around, coming face-to-face with Thoth! The Clannie suddenly starts pounding away at Lerrin’s face, lashing out with punch after punch while the crowd grows louder and louder! After landing a solid ten punches, Thoth grabs Breggan by the arm and whips him across the ring, towards the far ropes. Breggan bounces off and rushes back towards Thoth, and as he approaches, the Clannie hooks his arm beneath Lerrin’s, looking to land a Flipping Arm Drag! However, Thoth has trouble lifting Breggan’s weight, giving Lerrin the opportunity to break his arm free and use it and his other arm to capture Thoth in a Front Waistlock! But before Lerrin has a chance to do anything, Thoth suddenly drives his head forward, slamming it into Lerrin’s nose with a Headbutt! Breggan lets out a low moan of pain and releases Thoth, grabbing his now-bleeding nose as Thoth charges for the far ropes! The Balancer bounces off and rushes back towards Lerrin, and as he approaches, Thoth leaps into the air and extends his arms and legs, looking to connect with a Flying Cross Body! However, Breggan sees Thoth coming and manages to catch him in mid-air before impact! The Clannie struggles and writhes wildly, but Breggan refuses to let go, looking down on Thoth with unspeakable fury as the blood runs freely down his face. Lerrin slowly turns around, looking ready to slam Thoth into the mat, when he comes face to face with Magnifico, who sidesteps towards Breggan and throws his foot into the air, driving it into Lerrin’s face with a Superkick! Breggan goes down like a falling redwood tree, landing flat on his back as Thoth’s weight falls on top of him for the cover! The ref slides into position and begins counting as Magnifico realizes what’s happening...

 

ONE...

 

TWO-No! Magnifico quickly stomps on Thoth’s back and breaks the count.

 

Stevens: Breggan may be strong and resilient, but he seems to keep forgetting that this is a Triple Threat Match! There’s always gonna be someone there to contest his control!

 

Riley: And that someone will keep getting squished! Hah!

 

Thoth rolls off of Lerrin, allowing Magnifico to grab Breggan by the arms and slowly pull him to his feet. As Thoth begins climbing to his feet, ELM pulls Lerrin into a Suplex position, and tries with all his might to lift him into the air! Breggan is lifted an inch or two, but Magnifico just can’t summon the strength to get him over! Thoth stands up and, upon seeing Magnifico’s struggle, grabs Lerrin as well, adding enough strength for him and ELM to lift Breggan into the air! Lerrrin is in the air for a but a brief moment, until Magnifico and Thoth fall backwards, slamming his back into the mat and drawing a burst of cheers from the crowd! Breggan arches his back in pain upon impact, but is immediately pressed down to the mat as Thoth holds him down for the pin! The ref slides into position and begins counting as Thoth hooks the leg...

 

ONE...

 

TWO-No! Magnifico grabs Thoth by the leg and pulls him off of Breggan, before covering Lerrin himself! The ref restarts the count as an annoyed Thoth climbs back to his feet...

 

ONE...

 

TWO-No! Thoth does the same to Magnifico, dragging him off of Breggan and across the mat! As soon as Thoth lets go, ELM pops to his feet and immediately gets in the Clannie’s face, shouting angrily and gesticulating wildly. Thoth looks at him for a second...then lashes out with his palm, striking Magnifico clean across the face! The fans gasp collectively as Magnifico’s head cocks to one side from the force of the blow. ELM tenderly touches his cheek...then lashes out with his fist, driving it directly into Thoth’s face! The fans cheer loudly as Magnifico lands blow after blow, backing Thoth across the ring!

 

Stevens: It looked like Magnifico and Thoth were going to work together, but that alliance quickly fell apart!

 

Riley: Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! The only way either of them is going to win is to destroy Lerrin together, THEN stab your ally in the back! Jeez!

 

Magnifico eventually backs Thoth into the ropes, where he grabs the Clannie by the arm and attempts a whip. However, Thoth manages to reverse it, sending Magnifico rushing towards the far ropes. ELM bounces off and rushes back towards Thoth, who is right in front of the ropes, and as he approaches, Thoth bends over and grabs Magnifico’s legs, before standing up and flinging the luchadore right over the top rope with a Back Body Drop! However, Magnifico manages to grab the top rope as he’s going over, which he uses to pull himself in and land feet-first on the apron! Thoth is oblivious to this development until Magnifico shouts out, “Oye, Thoth! Ven aqui!”. Thoth immediately spins to face ELM and lashes out with a Clothesline, but before it can connect, Magnifico bends down and thrusts his head between the ropes, driving it into Thoth’s gut and doubling him over! With the Clannie bent over, Magnifico stands back up, grabs the top rope, and suddenly leaps over it and into the ring, wrapping his arms around Thoth’s waist in mid-air for a Sunset Flip! But before Magnifico can hit the mat, Thoth suddenly reaches up and grabs him by the legs and stands up, keeping the luchadore suspended on his back, Magnifico’s head dangling mere inches from the canvas! Thoth takes a few steps away from the ropes, giving himself some room, bends over and suddenly pulls Magnifico forward, jerking him over Thoth’s head and slamming his neck and head into the mat with a Double Leg Slam! The fans wince in unison as Magnifico cradles his head and curls up in pain, the ring still shaking from the impact. Thoth falls to his knees and covers Magnifico, drawing a few boos from the crowd as the ref slides into position and begins counting...

 

ONE...

 

TWO...No! Breggan bounds across the ring and stomps on Thoth’s head, breaking up the count at two and a half!

 

Stevens: Thoth with a brilliant counter to the Sunset Flip, but Breggan is able to break up his pin!

 

Riley: Whoo, close one. That’s what you get for trying to pull off all that flashy-high-flying crap!

 

After Breggan breaks up the count, he grabs Thoth by the hair and slowly, painfully pulls him to his feet, before throwing him back-first into the nearby corner. Lerrin grabs the top rope and lands a few kicks to Thoth’s gut, forcing him to sink a little lower with every blow. Breggan lands five good kicks, then grabs Thoth around the waist, lifts him into the air, and sits him on the top turnbuckle while the crowd begins booing in anticipation. Breggan soon follows up after him, climbing the turnbuckles until he is standing on the top rope, face-to-face with the Balancer. Once there, Lerrin grabs Thoth by the hair and pulls him to a standing position, before suddenly driving his knee forward and slamming it into the Clannie’s gut! Thoth immediately doubles over, allowing Breggan to grab him around the waist and put him into position for a Super Gutwrench Suplex! The fans boo even louder as Breggan struggles to balance himself and his victim on the top rope!

 

Stevens: Oh my! Breggan looks like he’s ready to finish this off with a Super Gutwrench Suplex! Unless Thoth manages to escape, Lerrin could be walking out of this arena with the Number One Contendership!

 

Finally balanced on the top rope, Lerrin looks like he’s about ready to finish this once and for all. He begins to lift Thoth into the air, when he feels a sudden pain shoot through his body! Lerrin immediately doubles over and releases Thoth as Magnifico drives his arm between Breggan’s legs with a blatant Low Blow! The ref shouts at ELM about the somewhat illegal maneuver, but the luchadore ignores him as he climbs onto the second rope, standing right behind Breggan. Once there, he reaches forward, wraps his arm around Lerrin’s head, and then pulls backwards, locking him in a Reverse Facelock on the second rope! The fans begin cheering in anticipation, and only grow louder as Magnifico hops backwards off of the second rope, pulling Breggan off with him! Mag lands on his back, slamming the back of Lerrin’s head into the canvas with a Second Rope Reverse DDT! The fans pop once more as ELM rolls over and covers Breggan, hooking the leg as the ref slides into position...

 

ONE...

 

TWO...Noo! Thoth suddenly comes flying off of the top rope, his outstretched knee driven into the back of Magnifico’s head as he falls!! The crowd OOOOH!s in unison as Magnifico rolls off of Lerrin, cradling his head in pain! As soon as he hits the mat, Thoth rolls back towards ELM and covers him, much to the chagrin of the fans! The ref slides into position as Thoth hooks the leg...

 

ONE...

 

TWO...No! Magnifico kicks out at two and a half, drawing a few cheers from the audience.

 

Stevens: Whoa! Magnifico managed to stop Breggan’s Super Gutwrench Suplex and hit him with a Second Rope Reverse DDT, but all he got in return from Thoth was a Top Rope Knee Drop!

 

Riley: Just like I said! These guys are idiots to help each other out!

 

Undaunted by the lack of a pinfall, Thoth rolls off of Magnifico, grabs him by the arm, and quickly drags him to his feet. Using his grip, the Clannie whips ELM across the ring, towards the far ropes. Before Magnifico can even hit the ropes, Thoth breaks into a full sprint, so that he’s right on top of as the luchadore as he bounces off of the ropes! The Balancer lashes out with his arm, slamming it into Magnifico with a Clothesline so hard that the luchadore goes tumbling over the top rope, crashing awkwardly to the outside as the fans OOOOH! in unison! Thoth gazes out to the floor for a second, looking satisfied with his work, as Breggan rises behind him! The crowd grows louder and louder in anticipation as Thoth spins around just in time to see Lerrin charging towards him at full speed! The Clannie has no time to react, and takes the full brunt of Lerrin’s Clothesline, which knocks him over the top rope as well! Thoth lands with a unpleasant THUD!, coming to a rest right next to the luchadore as the fans boo the grinning Breggan. After pausing a beat, Lerrin climbs out of the ring and steps out onto the floor, while the ref begins counting Magnifico and Thoth out.

 

Riley: Hah, Thoth and Magnifico both go tumbling out! If Breggan plays his cards right, he could get both of them beat with a count-out!

 

Stevens: What are the odds of that happening? He can’t keep two people from getting back in the ring at once!

 

Riley: The hell he can’t! This is the most destructive force in the SWF we’re talking about!

 

Stevens: What about the Hville Thugg, Bobbi?

 

Riley: His crippled ass doesn’t count!

 

Once Breggan is on the floor, he heads over to the closer Thoth, grabs him by the arm, and violently jerks him to his feet, before using his grip to whip the Clannie across the floor. Still dazed from the rough landing, Thoth puts up little resistance as he runs gut-first into the steel guard rail! Dozens of giddy fans reach out to touch a Clannie as Thoth is bent over the guard rail, clutching his gut in pain. Lerrin methodically follows after Thoth as Magnifico rises behind him, holding his head in pain. Seeing Breggan in front of him, ELM suddenly breaks into a dash, charging straight at the big man and knocking him in the back! The ref counts two as Lerrin stumbles forward from the force of the blow, before being grabbed by the shoulder and spun around by the luchadore! Magnifico begins blazing away at Lerrin’s face, landing punch after punch, until Breggan seems to have had enough, as he easily blocks one of ELM’s punches and sends him stumbling away with one of his own! Mumbling to himself, Lerrin turns back towards Thoth and approaches him, turning the Clannie away from the barrier and grabbing him by the arm before whipping him towards the still-stumbling luchadore! Magnifico finally turns around to see a half-dazed, running Thoth coming towards him at an alarming speed! Just before Thoth runs into him, ELM leaps into the air, spreading his legs as he jumps and narrowly missing impact with Thoth! As the ref reaches four, the Balancer manages to stop himself, skidding to a halt as Magnifico lands on his feet and notices Breggan stomping towards him, looking quite frustrated and angry! A slight look of panic comes over ELM’s face before he turns towards the ring and rolls beneath the bottom rope, avoiding Breggan’s rampage and. Lerrin takes his attention away from Magnifico and approaches Thoth, who is just now turning towards him. A grin coming over his face, Lerrin approaches the Clannie and throws a punch, which is blocked and returned by Thoth! This sparks a back-and-forth brawl between the two, growing more and more heated as the crowd cheers them on! Magnifico watches Thoth and Lerrin pound each other back and forth for a little while, then approaches the ropes closest to his opponents and grabs the top rope. ELM leans back, then leaps/pulls himself onto the top rope, bounces off, and flies towards Thoth and Lerrin, extending his arms and legs for a Flying Cross-Body! The Clannie and Breggan turn to their side just in time to see ELM soaring towards them, his body crashing into both of his opponents and sending all three men tumbling to the ground! The fans pop appreciatively as the ref counts to six for the three heaps lying on the outside.

 

Stevens: How’s that for flashy-high-flying crap, Bobbi? ELM just took both of his opponents out with Springboard Cross-Body to the outside!

 

Riley: That’s exactly what it is! Crap! There’s no real purpose for leaping around like an idiot!

 

Stevens: Oh, give it a rest, Riley! Magnifico isn’t jumping out of rings for his own health, y’know!

 

After a few moments, Magnifico begins to stir, climbing to his feet and reaching them as the ref counts seven. ELM approaches the ring and slides beneath the bottom rope while Thoth and Lerrin begin to stir. The Balancer and the Breggan slowly climb to their feet, reaching one knee almost simultaneously as the ref reaches eight. Magnifico slowly stands on the inside, watching his opponents finally reach their feet as the ref dramatically counts nine. Moments before the referee can count ten, Breggan climbs up onto the apron, as Thoth rolls into the ring a split-second later to a raucous mixed reaction from the crowd. Looking frustrated, Magnifico approaches Lerrin and throws a punch, only to get grabbed in mid-punch as Breggan shoots out his hand and clutches ELM around the throat! Magnifico grabs Breggan’s arm and tries desperately to break the grip, but is soon released, as Lerrin uses his grip to shove him backwards towards Thoth, who is just now getting to his feet! As Magnifico stumbles backwards towards him, The Clannie lifts his leg and suddenly lashes it forward, slamming it into the back of ELM’s head with a Roundhouse Kick! The crowd releases a loud OHHH! as Magnifico limply falls face-first to the mat, looking as though he was knocked out by the force of the kick! Thoth quickly falls to his knees, turns Magnifico onto his back, and covers the luchadore, hooking the leg as the ref slides into position and begins counting...

 

ONE...

 

TWO...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-Noo! Breggan climbs into the ring and stomps on Thoth just in time, breaking up the count to a mixture of cheers and boos from the crowd.

 

Riley: Damn, what a kick! Thoth musta knocked Magnifico’s skull out of place!

 

Stevens: It certainly was powerful, but Thoth made a big mistake by forgetting about Lerrin and covering Magnifico.

 

Riley: Always gotta focus on the negative, dontcha Stevens?

 

Stevens: This from a guy who calls aerial moves flashy-high-flying crap.

 

Still shaking off the Flying Cross-Body, Lerrin pauses a second and takes a short rest before grabbing Thoth by the arm and pulling him to his feet. Breggan then uses his grip to whip the Clannie towards the far ropes, which he bounces off of before rushing back towards Lerrin. As Thoth approaches, Breggan grabs him with one arm, lifts him up, and quickly falls forward, slamming Thoth’s back into the mat with a Spinebuster, shaking the ring to its very core! Thoth instinctively arches his back in pain as Breggan pops back to his feet, shouting confidently at his downed opponent. After a few seconds of verbally abusing the Clannie, Lerrin turns back towards Magnifico, grabs him by the hair, and slowly, painfully pulls him to his feet. Once ELM is standing, Breggan turns him around so that the luchadore is facing away from him, then bends down and hooks both of Magnifico’s arms from behind, beginning the setup for the Kingdom Come!

 

Riley: Brilliant! Lerrin takes out the third man in Thoth, and is now ready to finish off El Luchadore Magnifico with the Jumping Vertebreaker!

 

Stevens: You might just be right, Riley! With Thoth temporarily out of commission, there’ll be no one to stop Breggan from winning if he hits his finisher!

 

After holding ELM in that position for a few seconds, Lerrin slowly stands up, lifting Magnifico into the air and over his back for the Vertebreaker position! But as Breggan is standing up, ELM manages to break his arms free, flipping backwards as he does so and landing on his feet right behind Lerrin! Before the big man has a chance to react, Magnifico grabs him around the waist and rolls backwards to the mat, pulling Breggan down with him and rolling Lerrin up into the pin! As the ref slides into position, Magnifico bends backwards and places his hands on the mat, locking in the bridge and applying more pressure on Breggan! A loud cheer rises from the crowd as Breggan struggles wildly, trying to escape!

 

ONE...

 

TWO...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR-Nooo! Breggan escapes at the last moment, driving his legs forward and breaking the bridge to the displeasure of the crowd. Magnifico springs back to his feet and charges towards Lerrin as he quickly stands up. However, as ELM approaches, Lerrin grabs him by the leg and the shoulder, lifts him into the air, turns and slams Magnifico down to the mat with a Powerslam out of nowhere! The fans OHHH! in unison as ELM is pounded into the mat, his back arching in pain. Lerrin quickly makes the cover, hooking the leg as the ref slides into position and begins counting...

 

ONE...

 

TWO...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-Nooo! Thoth dives onto Lerrin at the last moment, breaking up the pin as the crowd cheers! Breggan rolls off of Magnifico, frustration etched across his face, as Thoth collapses to the mat, his chest heaving and his eyes staring blankly up at the lights.

 

Stevens: No! Lerrin comes close to winning the match twice, but is foiled both times! What’s it gonna take for someone to end this thing?

 

Riley: A lot more than this wussy crap they’re dishing out, that’s for damn sure!

 

Neither Lerrin or Thoth move for a few moments, until Lerrin stirs and begins to slowly push himself to his feet, followed a second later by Thoth. Breggan reaches his feet first, giving him the opportunity to grab Thoth by the hair and pull him the rest of the way to his feet. As soon as the Clannie is standing, Lerrin bends over, grabs Thoth by the leg and shoulder, and pulls him face-up onto his shoulders, putting Thoth in a Torture Rack position! Breggan holds Thoth on his shoulders for a second, a sick grin on his face, then begins to spin him around for the Royal Decision! However, the Balancer manages to slip out of Breggan’s grasp during the spinning process, landing on his feet right in front of Lerrin and facing him! Before Breggan even has a chance to register what just happened, Thoth grabs him by the arm, pulls him forward, and then wraps his leg around Lerrin’s, before quickly falling backwards, drawing Breggan down to the mat with a Downward Spiral! Thoth falls flat on his back, slamming Breggan’s face directly into the canvas as the crowd cheers wildly! After landing the move, the Clannie rolls onto his stomach and pushes himself to his feet, looking down on Breggan as he clutches his re-aggravated nose. Thoth watches him for a second, breathing deeply from the intense competition, then turns and heads for the nearest turnbuckle, drawing anticipatory cheering from the fans!

 

Stevens: It looks like the ball is Thoth’s court! He has a chance to finish off Breggan right here and now, and could do so with the Scum Gale!

 

Thoth quickly scales up the turnbuckles, reaching the top rope within a few seconds. Slowly standing up on the top turnbuckle, facing towards the crowd, Thoth looks behind him to see Lerrin start to stir and push himself to his feet. The Balancer keeps a close eye on Breggan, watching him as he slowly climbs to his feet, facing away from Thoth. After a good bit of struggling, Lerrin finally stands up, which cues Thoth to leap backwards off of the top rope, flying towards Lerrin for the Scum Gale! As Thoth flies over Lerrin, he flips backwards, grabs Lerrin’s head, and drives it into the mat as he lands in one fluid motion, landing his finisher with impeccable precision! Breggan practically springs off of the mat after impact before falling back-first to the canvas, his eyes closed and his chest heaving as the crowd cheers wildly! Fueled by adrenaline, Thoth springs to his feet and lets out a shout, which is immediately cut off as Magnifico hooks his arms from behind, as if for a Backslide! Remarkably, the crowd grows even louder as ELM rushes towards the nearest corner, looking to land the Baja California Crusher!

 

Stevens: Whoa! Thoth hit his incredible Scum Gale, but it looks like he might now be on the receiving end of a Baja California Crusher!

 

Riley: Gah! Where the hell did that dirty Mexican come from?? Didn’t Breggan paralyze him or something?!

 

As Magnifico reaches the corner, he swiftly runs up the turnbuckles, springing backwards off of the top one and flipping over Thoth’s head! As ELM lands, he brings the Balancer down with him, slamming Thoth’s face into the canvas with the Baja California Crusher!! Thoth lays face-down on the mat, motionless, while Magnifico falls limply from his knees onto the mat, all the energy drained from his body. The fans cheer like crazy as all three men lay on the canvas, having taken each other out in the past minute!

 

Stevens: Oh! Magnifico hit the Baja California Crusher, but he just didn’t have enough energy to make the cover! C’mon Mag, you’ve almost got him! Just a little more!

 

Riley: Quit cheering on your old running buddy, you washed up has-been! Try to show a little impartiality, for God’s sakes!

 

After a good twenty seconds of motionlessness from all three men, Magnifico begins to stir and slowly starts instinctively crawling towards Thoth! The fans begin clapping in unison, the collective clapping growing louder and louder the closer Magnifico comes to Thoth! But just as he reaches the Clannie, two figures hop out of opposite sides of the crowd, one of them wielding a steel chair! Upon closer inspection, the two figures are Fallout and Tom Flesher, who immediately approach the ring from opposite sides! Flesher hops up onto the apron and shouts over to the referee, immediately catching his attention, as Fallout slides in beneath the bottom rope, steel chair in hand!

 

Stevens: What the hell is this?! Magnifico nearly had Thoth covered until Flesher and Fallout, the Clan’s soldiers, stormed the ring! They must be here to insure a Thoth victory!

 

The fans’ cheering and clapping quickly changes to all-out booing as Fallout stands over Magnifico, who, oblivious to the situation, turns Thoth over before draping himself over Thoth’s body for the cover! The fans shout “ONE! TWO! THREE!” in unison as Magnifico’s pinfall goes unrecognized by the distracted referee! Wondering why his music hasn’t hit the speakers, Magnifico rolls off of Thoth and begins to slowly push himself to his feet, while Fallout stands ready with the chair, preparing himself to blast ELM over the head with it! However, The Nuclear One sees something out of the corner of his eye, which happens to be Lerrin Breggan struggling to reach his feet! Realizing that Lerrin is a more immediate threat, Fallout turns towards him and approaches the big man as he pushes himself to one knee, facing away from the Nuclear One. Finally, Breggan slowly stands up, facing away from Fallout, before foolishly turning around, coming face-to-face with the Nuclear Clannie! As soon as he sees the whites of Lerrin’s eyes, Fallout lifts the chair up and slams it down over his head, absolutely plastering Breggan with a ridiculously powerful chair shot to the skull! The WHACK! that emanates off of Lerrin’s skull is nearly drowned out by the loud mixture of cheers, boos, and shouts wafting in from the crowd. Breggan’s eyes roll back in his head as eyes limply falls backwards to the mat, seemingly knocked out by the force of the chairshot! A satisfied grin coming across his face, Fallout turns back towards Magnifico, just in time to see the luchadore reaching his feet! Fallout’s lips curl up into a snarl as he rushes towards ELM, chair raised in front of his face! However, Fallout is taken completely by surprise when Magnifico leaps into the air and kicks out his feet, driving them into the steel chair and, in turn, driving the chair directly into Fallout’s face with the Spanish Conquestor! The fans pop like wild as Fallout falls to the mat and immediately rolls out of the ring, leaving the chair behind!

 

Stevens: Good God! Fallout absolutely destroyed Breggan with a chairshot, but his assault was quickly put to an end when Magnifico gave him the Spanish Conquestor!

 

Riley: You idiot, Fallout! Now Lerrin’s completely out of it, and Magnifico can take advantage!

 

ELM pops to his knees after the Dropkick, grabs the nearby chair, and slides it out of the ring, just before the ref turns around to see what all the commotion is behind him! Still on his knees, Magnifico quickly crawls over to Breggan, draping himself over Lerrin’s body for the cover! Flesher’s spell of distraction isn’t strong enough to keep the ref from rushing over to the cover and sliding into position, making the count as the fans cheer and shout wildly! But on the other side of the ring, Thoth finally stirs and sees Magnifico’s cover as the ref begins to count...

 

ONE...Thoth quickly pushes himself to his feet...

 

TWO...Thoth rushes across the ring and makes a desperate dive for the luchadore...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEE!! Thoth lands on Magnifico a millisecond too late, as the ref springs to his feet and signals for the bell!! Flesher kicks at the apron and curses loudly as the stands erupt in cheers!

 

DING DING DING

 

Funyon: Your winner, and the NEW, Number One Contender to the World Title...El Luchadooooooorre Magnificooooooooo!!

 

Stevens: He did it! Fallout’s and Flesher’s botched interference allowed Magnifico to capture the victory and the Number One Contendership to the World Title!

 

Riley: Lucky bastard! He should kiss the ground Fallout walks on for winning him the match!

 

Thoth falls to the mat, his hands over his face, as Magnifico rolls off of Breggan, an incredible grin on his face despite the fatigue that racks his entire body. Flesher curses loudly one more time, his hands on his hips, then climbs into the ring and heads towards Thoth. Tom grabs the Balancer by the arm and helps him to his feet as Fallout rolls into the ring and slowly stands up, one hand on his forehead. As soon as Thoth is on his feet, he jerks his hand away from Flesher and begins yelling unintelligibly at him, obviously pissed off at what just happened. Flesher is taken by surprise, and seems to make a half-hearted attempt to defend himself as Thoth points at his own chest and continues shouting angrily at both Flesher at Fallout.

 

Stevens: Uh oh, I don’t think Thoth appreciates his Clanmates’ presence! It doesn’t look like he wanted their help at all!

 

Thoth continues to verbally abuse both men, shouting so loud that the microphones can pick up a few words and phrases, such as “asshole”, “don’t need you”, and “why are you here?!”. Fallout and Flesher don’t speak loud enough for the microphones, but it looks like they both mouth the word “Silent” at least a few times. Thoth looks between them for a few seconds, then shoves past Flesher and Fallout and heads towards the ring ropes closest to the announce table, signaling for a microphone as he does so. A random tech tosses Thoth a mic, which he immediately begins using as Fallout and Flesher look on, somewhat nervous and concerned.

 

Thoth: Silent, what the hell were you thinking sending these two to interfere in my match?! You better get the hell down here right now and explain yourself to me!

 

The fans cheer Thoth’s show of defiance wildly as the Clannie throws down the microphone, creating a rather annoying feedback sound that echoes throughout the inside of the arena. While we all wait the arrival of the Clan’s leader, Magnifico rolls out of the ring, steps out onto the floor, and makes his exit along one side of the entrance ramp, while Lerrin rolls out of the ring and simply falls to the floor. Suddenly, the arena’s lights are abruptly cut off, and the spotlights near the entrance ramp begin to flicker rapidly, creating a blurred effect for anyone walking through them. Front Line Assembly’s “Retribution (Front 242 Remix)” hits the sound system as Silent walks out from behind the curtain to massive boos from the audience. He swiftly and deftly makes his way down to the ring, foregoing his usual entrance, obviously anxious to deal with this problem. Once Silent reaches the ring, he slides beneath the bottom rope and pops to his feet, pulling back the hood on his robe as he does so. The lights suddenly come back up, showing the entire Clan in the ring, with Silent and Thoth glaring at each other and Fallout and Flesher looking unsure as to what’s going on. Maintaining his icy stare, Thoth brings the mic to his mouth and resumes talking.

 

Thoth: You know that I didn’t need any help taking out those two weaklings, so why did you send THEM down here? All they did was cost me the match!

 

The fans boo a little at the mention of the word “weaklings”, but quickly grow quiet again as Silent, um, silently stares at Thoth. Becoming frustrated, the Balancer strides up to him, until the two Clannies are face to face. Thoth grits his teeth and spits out the words as Silent emotionlessly glares at him.

 

Thoth: I asked you a question, God damn it. Now, you can answer me, or I can get an answer out of you.

 

A GASP! rises from the crowd upon hearing this statement, as Fallout and Flesher look a bit more uncomfortable than they were a second ago. However, Silent still refuses to speak, maintaining his stare as Thoth looks down and chuckles to himself.

 

Thoth: You know what, that’s fine. I’m sure you had my best interest in mind.

 

With that, Thoth drops the microphone and turns away from Silent...but then spins back around, throwing a punch that lands square on Silent’s jaw! The fans begin cheering wildly at the dissension as Silent returns the blow, sparking a back-and-forth exchange between the two! However, it’s quickly cut off, as Flesher and Fallout move swiftly to separate them and prevent the brawl from escalating!

 

Stevens: Whoa! Thoth, obviously annoyed at Silent’s dispatch of Flesher and Fallout, just decked the Silent One across the face! What on Earth is going on within the Clan??

 

Riley: Thoth is being an ungrateful bitch, that’s what it is! He can’t appreciate Silent’s efforts to help him!

 

Stevens: Well, whatever the case, there definitely seem to be problems within the Clan. Anyway, stay tuned folks, because coming up next, we’ve got The Hville Thugg, coming out of retirement for one night only, taking on Jay Dawg for the Hardcore Title! Make sure you catch what could be the Thugg’s last appearance in an SWF ring!

 

Riley: It definitely will be, after what Jay Dawg does to him! Yee-hah!

 

As the show fades to black, the last image broadcasted is Fallout and Flesher struggling to keep Thoth and Silent seperated, as the Balancer screams and curses at the Silent One...

[Guest BA_Baracus]

~~~ Four Months Ago ~~~

 

Footage from Crossfire dawns screens across the globe, showing the massive beatdown and utter destruction of the once mighty HVille Thugg. This particular package shows Perfect Bo, Sacred, the Suicide King, and Jay Dawg laying into Thugg with chair shots, as the former champion tries to fight them off. Before the footage comes to the end, it makes sure to highlight the brutal shots given to Thugg at the hands of Jamie Drazon by replaying each shot over and over again, zooming closer with every cut.

 

~~~ Three Months Later ~~~

 

Jay Dawg is on the rise as he begins to dominate the SWF's Hardcore Division, but his actions towards the newly reformed, X Force 9, get him into trouble. After his PPV opponent, Ash Ketchum, is left a bloody mess at the hands of Chris Wilson's Magnificent Seven group (via automobile accident), Jay Dawg is forced to defend his hardcore title against a mystery X Force Niner. However, a blast from JD's past comes back to deliver a special message to the Hardcore Champion...

 

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

Several moments have passed, the arena still pitched in darkness as we await JD’s X Force 9 opponent…until suddenly…

 

“HAHAHAHAHA!”

 

The entire arena gasp as they’ve heard that sinister laugh before…but where? Despite the low visibility, we can clearly see a look of complete and utter shock laced with a trembling fear creep onto JD’s face as the laughter gives way to an electric guitar…

 

Riley: “No…no way. I thought he was dead!”

 

Stevens: “Oh my…you don’t think…it couldn’t be…he didn’t…”

 

“They don’t know!”

“Who we be!”

 

Stevens: “HOLY FUCKIN’ SHIT!! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!!”

 

“They don’t know!”

“Who we be!”

 

“What they don’t know is…”

 

BOOM!!!!

 

An explosion of fire erupts on the stage, leaving a solid wall in its wake.

 

Stevens: “My dear god…it’s the Hville Thugg!!”

 

Riley: “Holy crap!! The greatest World Champion this fed has ever seen!! Is he going to take on Jay Dawg???”

 

Stevens: “I don’t know, but this is a huge development!!”

 

The fire on the stage dies down and the house lights return, showing JD scanning the arena for the monster he helped put out of the SWF, but alas, there is no sign of HVT…until…

 

“YO JAMIE!! JAMIE!!”

 

HVT sits up from the bench and looks directly into the camera. He’s wearing a black hoodie that slightly covers his face, which is drenched in sweat, and when he cracks his knuckles in front of the camera, he shows “KILL” and “MAIM” tattooed on both hands.

 

HVT: “YO BITCH! Surprised to see me?? What? Did you think you killed me or something?? You should know better than that yo...How’s it goin’ playa?!? You must be feelin’ real good after the way you helped take me out. I liked the way you came to see a nigga in the hospital, pretended to be all chummy and shit, only to turn around and trample on my legacy…but it’s all good. Cuz you gonna get yours, just like the rest of them bitches who set me up. And don’t worry…I know you wasn’t more than just the muscle to do the job, but you still gonna get yo ass whooped you little punk beeatch! Oh…yeah…quick question Drazon…where’s that hot little mami you used to be up on?? I’m just askin’ dogg…cause I heard she bounced on your punk ass…for another woman!!! Yo…how’d you let that happen man?? I always told you that you wasn’t hittin’ that right…and now you done turned her off to men forever. Damn yo…is yo shit THAT bad?!?”

 

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

 

Jay Dawg's response to Thugg comes less than a week later on Storm, after destorying Annie Eclectic on Ground Zero. His power is growing stronger as his bond with commissioner Stubby McWeed tightens and their stable grows. Using this power, and his newfound confidence, something that has come with his winning streak, he attempts to goad the HVille Thugg out of retirement and into the ring...

 

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

 

Jamie: “Bah… fuck the X-Club-9. If you guys get in Creative Control’s way or mine you’ll get hurt. I have bigger fish to fry. In fact, he is the biggest fish to fry!”

 

The crowd silences, waiting for JD to say the name.

 

Jamie: “The H-Ville Thugg! Now Thugg… I know you are watching this. I also bet you want a piece of me. Well guess what you fat fuck. Here I am! Come on Thugg! I know you can see this! I know you can contact this league! I WANT A PIECE OF YOU!! In fact, I will put up my hardcore title. Come on Thugg, it’ll be fun, we can scrap so I can beat yo ass, just like the old days. Hey Thugg, remember that? Thugg! I want an answer! You have Five minutes...or...Or I am going to have a hardcore title match with Kivell here! Yeah, that sounds like fun, doesn’t it Matty? Yeah, I bet I could snap you like a twig. Which is why I’m going to give you a chance. If you get down on your knees, and beg for Thugg to get out here, and he replies, I’ll let you go.”

 

Kivell: “Thugg… please. Come here, JD has lost it. He’s going t…”

 

-JD yanks Kivell off his knees and holds him in place, bringing the mic back to himself.

 

Jamie: “Alright, alright, alright you little shit. Enough groveling. I have no need to listen to you beg. Let’s see Thugg. You have about a minute left. What’s it gonna be? I want you out here now! Before I break him in two, like I did to you! THUGG!!! COME ON YOU SON OF A BITCH!!! I WILL PUT UP MY HARDCORE TITLE TO FIGHT YOU!!! SOMETHING YOU NEVER WON!!! You know something fuck it. You should have answered.”

 

JD pulls Kivell into him, and flattens him with a shortarm clothesline! Kivell hits the mat hard and holds the back of his head. JD pulls him back up, holding him by the ears, he thrusts his forehead with a headbutt! Blood spurts out of the nose and begins to rush all over his referee outfit. JD is overtop of the shoulders of Kivell, holding him by the jaw, he instantly starts up the punches. A flurry of lefts and rights, forcibly move the limp head of Kivell. JD picks up the mic, and at the same time, pulls the unconscious and bloody Kivell into a standing headscissors.

 

Jamie: “Thugg! This is on your head!”

 

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

 

A few weeks later, Jay Dawg had disposed of much of X Force Nine, and had his sights back on the HVille Thugg...

 

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

 

Jamie: “I WANT THE HVILLE THUGG!!! I WILL NOT STOP UNTIL I GET THE HVILLE THUGG!!! I will take out any member in this roster, active or not to get to Thugg! I mean, it started with the X-Force-9! Members of the Carnival and the Clan have followed! Magnificent Seven can suck my fucking dick! Creative Control may be dominant, but we are not finished! In fact! I am going to hurt someone tonight!? Who can it be!? Should it be the X-Force-9 later!? Nah… that’s too far away! Who may it be, will it be you, Mark Stevens? Or will it be you, Bobby Riley? Funyon. Yeah, how about you step inside and get your ass whooped, Funyon?”

 

JD steps toward Funyon. 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.

 

Stevens: “Finally someone is hear to shut Jay Dawg up!”

 

Out through the curtains steps the Business Manager of the X-Force-9, Sarah Leavenworth. Dressed in her business attire, she walks down the ramp, smiling as the crowd gives her a hearty ovation. She looks toward JD, who isn’t too pleased at her arrival, and gives him a little wave. JD turns to face Sarah, wondering what she is up to. Sarah walks up the steps, wiping her feet on the ring apron, and steps through the ropes. A member near the ring tosses Sarah a Mic. She catches the Mic and enters the ring. She continues to look at JD, smiling ear to ear.

 

Sarah: “Jay Dawg. Get it through your thick fucking skull, Jay Dawg! Thugg is NOT COMING BACK!!! Especially for a piece of trash like you!”

 

Jamie: “Get out of my ring Sarah… before I remove you.”

 

Sarah: “Stay away from Thugg, JD. He’s not coming back.”

 

Jamie: “Don’t make me make you my next example, Sarah. I will have Thugg.

 

.

.

.

 

{Later That Show}

 

.

.

.

 

Pete nods to her and walks off in the opposite direction.

 

Sarah spots her vehicle, a dark purple 1991 Nissan 240SX (affectionately nicknamed the SeX Mobile). She heads off in that direction, pressing a button on her key chain to deactivate the car alarm as she approaches the car.

 

WHACK! Sarah yelps in alarm and sudden pain as a large metal object strikes across her back. Her keys are knocked out of her hand. They fall to the pavement, and seconds later, Sarah follows suit, dropping to the ground. Then there is a second SMACK! across Sarah's back as a steel chair is slammed into her again.

 

"There," growls an infuriated chair-wielding Jay Dawg. "THAT oughta draw out the Thugg."

 

The Hardcore champion drops the chair against the pavement, leaving it to rest beside Sarah as he walks away and out of sight.

 

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

 

The montage cuts to footage from the next Monday's Smarkdown where Jay Dawg has come out to the ring to call on Thugg, yet again. After attacking JD attacked his former love, how will the 2-time World Champion respond??

 

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

 

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

 

HVT: {via voicemail message}“You think cause Bo laid me up wit a broken neck 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...but you know what? I'm callin' yo mutha fuckin' bluff bitch...you want Da Thugg?? Well you got him bitch! You got me! This Sunday...it's you and me fucker...hardcore rules fo' dat hardcore title you fagot! Come this Sunday...I...WILL...WRECK YO SHIT!!”

 

::BEEP::

 

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

 

But the drama wasn't done there, as Jay Dawg was involved as a special ring enforcer for the main event later that night.

 

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

 

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!! 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.

 

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."

 

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!!

 

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!!!

 

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.

 

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

 

With the final chronological event over, the montage switches to some quick shots of Jay Dawg in action, interpolated with shots of the vicious attack on Thugg that put him on the shelf. "I Stand Alone" by Godsmack plays over the video package...

 

 

"I stand alone"

 

JD kicks a tied up Annie Eclectic at Ground Zero.

 

 

"Feeling your sting down inside me"

 

JD pounds on Renegade.

 

 

"I'm not dying for it"

 

JD: I WANT THUGG!!!

 

 

"I stand alone"

 

JD slams a vicious chair shot to Thugg during the infamous beatdown.

 

 

"Everything that I believe is fading"

 

JD destroys Ash Ketchum.

 

 

"I stand alone"

 

JD slams a vicious chair shot to Thugg during the infamous beatdown.

 

 

"Inside"

 

HVT obliterates Jay Dawg with a chair shot this past Monday night.

 

 

"I stand alone"

 

HVT: this Sunday...I...WILL...WRECK YO SHIT!!

 

 

BOOM!!

 

 

As the song cuts out, a small, soft clip shows with no music...

 

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

 

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...

 

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

 

We come back live to Ben Hardy standing in front of the standard SWF interview apron, mic in hand and awaiting his cue.

 

(Hardy) - Ladies and gentlemen, I'm standing here with one of wrestling's biggest icons...the 2-time SWF world champion, The HVille Thugg, who is set to take on Jay Dawg for the Hardcore Title here in just a few moments. Thugg, thanks for taking a moment to chat with us.

 

The camera pans out and reveals a very sweaty, and slightly overweight, HVille Thugg glaring into the camera and cracking his knuckles.

 

(Hardy) - So, Thugg...first, how does it feel to be back??

 

(HVT) - Don't ask me stupid fucking questions yo. For real, I'd rather be chillin in DC and shit...but a nigga's gotta do what he gotta do.

 

(Hardy) - Well, I'll cut to the chase then Thugg...there are a lot of rumors going around backstage that say your neck isn't healed. Word is that one shot to the head or neck will probably cripple you. What do you have to say about that?

 

(HVT) - What do I have to say?? I say mind your own damn business. My neck is my fuckin' problem...not anyone else's. I did 4 months of serious rehab, and here I am. Maybe it's weak...maybe I shouldn't be in the ring, but you know I ain't da type to back down from nobody...especially no bitch like Jamie Drazon. Maybe JD will try to go after my neck and put me out again...but, he'll have to get the shot in first yo. And for real cuz...he ain't gettin' shit in on me tonight...cause I'm gonna....WRECK.....HIS.....SHIT!!

 

(Hardy) - Well Thugg, don't you think...

 

(HVT) - Yo man...I'm up next man...I ain't got time for this shit. Go interview Edwin or something...

 

HVT turns to storm away, but halts abruptly when he comes face to face with none other than...

 

 

 

...Stubby "Pots" McWeed!

 

A staredown ensues, with both men glaring daggers into the other's soul. Stubby breaks the silence...

 

(Stubby) - Ahhhh...it's the great HVille Thugg. How's life on the outside?

 

HVT looks around, his face twitching with rage...

 

(Stubby) - Now, now Damien...you're not thinking about hitting old Stubby are you? Well, let me save you the trouble...wouldn't want you to give yourself a headache.

 

The camera pans back and reveals a full security team behind Stubby, all looking ready to pounce on the big man if necessary.

 

(Stubby) - Allow me to introduce you to Denver's Finest. Now, they're here for the Edwin/Wilson match, but they've informed me that they'd be happy to take you downtown if you get out of line.

 

(HVT) - What the fuck do you want Stubby?

 

(Stubby) - Oh...I just came by to wish you good luck tonight...you're gonna need it.

 

(HVT) - Yo, I'm gonna let you know right now...when I'm done puttin' Jamie in his grave tonight, I'm comin' for your bitch ass next!

 

(Stubby) - When will you ever learn Thugg?? I know you've been watching...I know you know that Jay Dawg is not the same guy he was when you left....er....I mean when you were beaten senselessly. He's a monster...the hardcore god! You're nothing but a has-been...a joke...nothing! After he puts you in a wheelchair, I'll be happy to come down and see that your carcas is removed from my arena.

 

HVT stares at Stubby for a while...

 

(HVT) - We'll see Stubby...we'll see. Just watch your back.

 

(Stubby) - Very touching...but you know, I've got enough people to watch my back for me. You watch YOUR back...or should I say...YOUR NECK! Yeah, that's right...I spoke to your doctor...and I know exactly what the situation is. You're not fooling anyone here Thugg...you're not 100%, and your neck isn't anywhere close to healed. And you better believe that I've advised Jamie to go straight for it...so...have a good match Thugg. Don't get crippled out there...hahahahahaha!

 

Stubby walks away laughing his ass off, as HVT remains in front of the camera, fuming. After a fe moments, he storms off too, and we are sent back to ringside with Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

And a shot cuts back to the are to the concerned announcing duo of Stevens and Riley…

 

Stevens: “This can’t be good. Jay Dawg has been instructed to go for the neck! It’s common knowledge that is fragile!”

 

Riley: “Thugg should have never come back! Jay Dawg will put him down for good now!”

 

Stevens: “If he does so without help, like he promised… then it’s going to be a hell of a battle! Thugg is still as strong as ever!”

 

Riley: “But did you see that pudge he is carrying! He won’t be able to move… not like he could move too well in the first place!”

 

Stevens: “You have a point there! The recovering process has taken Thugg down a notch, and he won’t be in his peak physical condition!”

 

A pyro is set off, from the center of the ring, going straight up and the explosion is thousands of sparks, flooding the eyes of the arena. The lights drop and all attention is focused on the ramp. Two white balls can be seen, glowing in the dark, resting on both sides of the ramp.

 

BOOM!!!

 

An explosion of two enormous fireballs erupts over the arena; the pulsing flames illuminate the arena as many look on in awe. Seconds after the two massive explosions, above the ring, thousands of tiny pyros go off all around the rafters, and the fans know these pyros. They wait for it… because any sooner would be useless.

 

"THIS

 

 

IS

 

 

MAH

 

 

HOUSE!!"

 

The live voice of JD echoes through the arena as Rammstein's "Du Haste" plays over the speakers without the lyrics... The heavy beats thunder 360 degrees all over the arena... and now, the crowd reacts. A wave of boos splashes over the ramp, however it’s verbal waves, so the fire is still there. JD steps through the curtains, his head remaining down and the hardcore title fastened neatly over his waist. Another wave of boos from the endless sea of fans hits the ramp, having little effect as JD stands in between the two flames. He slowly raises his head, looking to the crowd, his eyelids remain shut, but a smile creeps over his face, more like a sadistic grin. He lowers his head again, as another wave of boos hits him to little effect.

 

Funyon: “The following contest is for the hardcore title!

 

JD walks to the ring, in a slow pace, absorbing every insult and taunt directed at him.

 

“Introducing first! He hails from Vancouver, BC! He stands at six feet, four inches and weighs in at 250 pounds!

 

JD pauses at ringside, reaching behind, he unhooks his title and leaps to the ring apron.

 

“He is the S-W-F Hardcore champion!

 

Jay Dawg raises his title, standing on the apron, his grin turns to a look of angered determination. He turns to the ropes, throwing his title over the top and enters the ring.

 

“JAMIE ‘JAY DAWG’ DRAZON!!!”

 

JD stands over his title, scanning the crowd as he squats down, placing his hands on his thighs. Rotating his head, through his eyelids staring a hole into everyone, slowly cricking his neck. He finally falls back, allowing the ref to pick up his title and steps back into the corner, resting on them as he waits for Thugg.

 

Riley: “There’s the current hardcore, and future world champion!”

 

Stevens: “Praise his ego a little more why don’t you!”

 

The lights in the arena black out, covering all crevices of the place with a cloud of complete and utter darkness. A silence comes over the entire arena as a line on the floor in front of the entranceway begins glow a bright orange-red.

 

Stevens: “Here it is! The moment we have all been waiting for!”

 

A man laughing is heard through the speakers followed by an electric guitar.

 

"They don't know..."

"Who we be."

"They don't know..."

"Who we be."

 

“What they don’t know is…”

 

BOOM!

 

The glowing line on the floor proceeds to blast upward into a wall of fire. The force causes everyone in attendance to jump back. The fans can’t help themselves though, exploding into a massive eruption of cheers.

 

"The bullsh*t!" cheer.

"The drama!" cheer.

"The guns!" cheer.

"The armor!" cheer.

 

With DMX's "Who We Be" blasting through the speakers, HVT moves to the forefront where he stands tall with his head down and his fists clenched at his sides.

 

Funyon: “AND HIS CHALLENGER!!!

 

Funyon’s lungs are truly tested, even with the microphone; he can’t out speak the roaring fans.

 

“He hails from Washington, DC! He stands at seven feet two inches and weighs in at 450 pounds!”

 

The crowd continues roaring, looking at the monstrous former champion standing on the ramp.

 

“HE IS…. THE HVILLE THUGG!!!”

 

Upon hearing the announcement, HVT begins his slow descent to the ring amongst the sea of cheers. JD looks down the ramp, spotting the angry glare of his giant adversary. Upon reaching the ring, HVT grabs a hold the top rope and uses it to pull himself up to the apron, where he proceeds to step over the top rope and into the ring.

 

Stevens: “Jay Dawg isn’t giving Thugg the respect by stepping out of the ring!”

 

Riley: “He has no need to! JD challenged him!”

 

The audience can be heard, delivering their thunderous ovation for the two men in the ring. They stand in their respective corners, neither going for weapons, smiling as they look toward each other. Jay Dawg takes the first step toward his adversary. But HVT is no slouch, stepping forward, making it to the center of the ring before JD. The current hardcore champ takes his time, one step at a time, until finally he is about a foot away from the monstrous former World Champ. He raises his head, looking into the eyes of his mammoth opponent. JD begins to shake, looking into Thugg, although a shake that is not fear, but intensity, anger one would say. The spectators in the crowd, the viewers in sports bars and there own homes are on their feet, people holding their bladder to see the first strike.

 

Riley: “It’s like the Hulkster vs. Andre the Giant!”

 

Stevens: With people cheering for Andre!”

 

As the crowd’s voices grow louder, Jay Dawg’s body starts to shake some more; many can feel his intensity. Thugg’s smile is removed, as it turns to a look of pure anger. Jay Dawg strikes just then, swinging hard with a haymaker right! Thugg catches the fist and the crowd loves it. Thugg squeezes down on the much smaller hand, staring straight into JD, letting him know he could crush it at will. JD swings with his left, smacking the jaw of HVT. The blow knocks his head to the left a bit, but Thugg snaps it back into place, staring at JD, who grabs onto the wrist, and runs for the turnbuckles. Showing surprising agility, JD steps to the second, then the top turnbuckle pivots on the top, and Thugg yanks him off the corner, over his head. THUD!! Ten feet away, JD bounces off the mat hard.

 

Riley: “Bah! He hasn’t lost a step!”

 

Stevens: “It looks to me like he has gained a step!”

 

JD sits straight up, gets to his feet, and rushes straight for HVT. JD dives with a shoulder, but HVT steps forward. THUD!! JD hits the mat hard once more; the massive shoulder of HVT was his guide. HVT drops to a knee, grabbing JD by his throat and pulls him up. JD wraps his legs around the left leg of HVT, grapevining it tightly. The force of his weight breaks Thugg’s grip, as JD wraps his arms around the leg as well. Digging his shoulder into the back of the knee, JD brings Thugg down to one knee!

 

Riley: “That a boy, Jay Dawg! Wrestle him down!”

 

Stevens: “This is the way Jay Dawg will have to defeat Thugg… however this isn’t what JD has planned! I know his style, he’s trying to psyche Thugg out!”

 

Stevens is accurate, as JD releases the leg, rolling backward and pounces to his feet. HVT is back at his feet and Jay Dawg rushes for him. He dives in the air, letting himself become a missile, ramming his forearms into the forehead of HVT. The blast has HVT stagger back to the corner, and JD leaps onto the turnbuckles. He raises his fist, and drives it into the jaw of HVT. JD raises his fist again, and repeatedly hammers it into the jaw of the HVille Thugg. Stopping after Seven consecutive blows, JD attaches his hand over the throat of Thugg and clasps down, starting to choke the mammoth adversary.

 

Stevens: “Jay Dawg is already resorting to his type of tactics!”

 

Riley: “Don’t sound like it’s evil, it’s perfectly legal in this environment!”

 

As legal as Jay Dawg’s choke may be, Thugg’s retaliation is just as legal, grabbing JD by the throat and tightens his grip. The sheer powers in Thugg’s hand forces JD to break his grip and try to break off the choke over him. Latching his arm over the giant Black Hand, HVT shoves him forward. The choke toss results in JD hitting the mat hard and flipping over to his stomach. JD does a quick push up, standing up and is grabbed a hold of by the throat once more. HVT powers JD up and nonchalantly throws him into the corner. JD hits the corner hard, the impact of his back rumbles throughout the mat as HVT steps into him.

 

Stevens: “Thugg has been wanting to do this for the last three months!”

 

JD looks up, his wind out of him, and sees an enormous black figure. A sadistically smiling black figure. JD puts his arms up in defense, but is it really any use? HVT lets his teeth show through his grin as he swings through, driving his forearm into the jaw of JD. A resounding CRACK resonates around the arena, as many feel pity for what is about to happen to JD. Methodically, HVT raises his fist once more and drives it into Jay Dawg’s mid-section. The blow has JD exhale in pain, gasping for breath as Thugg drives his fist into Jay Dawg’s chest. HVT grabs a hold of Jay Dawg’s wrist, and yanks JD across the ring, bringing him crashing into the turnbuckles. JD staggers out of the corner, lifting his head up, and sees a 450-pound freight train rush right for him. JD is knocked back in the corner, and crushed into it by his gigantic adversary!

 

Stevens: “Oh! That had to hurt!”

 

Riley: “Jesus! Thugg knocked JD a good five feet before he crushed him!”

 

HVT takes a step back, as JD lets his head fall forward, wondering if he can get the license plate number of that Thugg who hit him. He finally raises his head and regrets doing so, looking into the eyes of HVT. JD raises his arm weakly and Thugg grabs onto it, pulling on it hard, throwing JD into the opposite corner. JD turns his back and leaps into the air, letting the impact flip him over and fall to the outside. His face smacks into the ring apron as he falls back to the outside, lying down on the mat, rubbing his jaw but smiling.

 

Stevens: “Jay Dawg has to be liking it out there! It’s way safer out their then inside with Thugg!”

 

Riley: “Big deal! It’s not like HVT is unbeatable! Especially as a cripple!”

 

JD sits up on the outside, rising to his feet fairly quickly. He looks into the ring, straight at his adversary who tempts him to return to the squared circle. JD hops onto the ring apron and HVT charges for him. JD drops low and thrusts his shoulder forward, driving it into the abdomen of HVT. The blow knocks the big man back a step as JD straightens up, lets his shoulder rotate a second, and slingshots over the top rope. HVT stands up as JD flies for him, using the momentum to back body drop him over his shoulder. JD returns to his feet faster then an Indian chasing a beer truck and once more falls into the clutches of HVT. The man grabs JD by the groin and by the throat, and presses him up over his head.

 

Stevens: “Jay Dawg is in for a painful landing!”

 

HVT has the obsessive look in his eyes as he holsters JD over his head, calmly pushing him up and down like the man is a feather. The passion for pain can be seen as HVT continues to pump up and down, each lift and drop gets a cheer from the crowd from the gigantic challenger. Finally, he steps forward, but without JD, letting the hardcore champion fall ten feet… THUD… to the mat.

 

Stevens: “That could crack a rib or two!”

 

JD presses himself back up, holding his chest as HVT gives him a half hearted kick. The shot to the chest rolls JD over and HVT pressed his foot over JD.

 

One…

 

JD grabs the foot of HVT, spinning so he is perpendicular to HVT and shoots his leg upward, kicking Thugg in the back of the thigh. HVT doubles down, reaching for JD, but the hardcore champ fires back, kicking him in the face with another blow. Thugg drops to one knee and JD cradles the other. He sits back up, and hoists the leg up with him, pushing Thugg down to the mat. With the leg elevated, JD grapevines the left leg, spinning into it so his knee is over Thugg’s and jumps in the air, driving his knee into the cartilage of HVT’s knee! JD stands back up, wrapping Thugg’s leg around his, with the spinning toehold, he applies the pressure.

 

Riley: “That a boy, JD! Pick him apart!”

 

JD raises his eyelids only to let them fall back into his socket.

 

Stevens: “If he plans to Whiplash Thugg, he has another thing coming!”

 

With the blank eyed stare, JD starts to torque on the knee. He pulls hard, allowing the crowd to get a look at his loony stare. As his torque continues, he doesn’t spot the size 20 timberland shooting straight for him, directly connecting with his face. The blast makes Jay Dawg’s head shake as he releases the hold and staggers backward. JD shakes his head, spotting Thugg on the rise and dives at him, pulling him to the mat with a clothesline, then rolls forward. JD slides under the bottom rope and reaches under the apron. Smiling as he hooks onto his choice, he pulls out a massive chain, similar to one that would anchor a boat.

 

Stevens: “Jesus Christ! That thing has to weigh at least 50 pounds!”

 

Riley: “Jay Dawg came prepared and I am going to love every second of it!”

 

JD rolls into the ring, carrying the hefty sized weapon. Thugg has gotten to his feet, showing a small sign of a limp. JD holds the chain in his hands and swings forward like a baseball bat, right into the abdomen of HVT! “ARRGH!!” HVT drops to one knee, holding his chest from the pain as JD drops the chain. JD walks over top of Thugg, grabbing him by the cornrows, he pulls the hair up and lunges his head forward! The headbutt heard ‘round the arena from the massive CRACK by the two skulls meeting. As HVT drops to two knees, JD staggers back, shaking his head off from the blow. He stumbles toward the nearby corner, taking a seat on the top turnbuckle. He holds his arm up, taunting Thugg to stand back up.

 

Stevens: “That chain has taken quite a bit out of Thugg! JD is looking to finish this baby off!”

 

Riley: “Not a chance Stevens! He’s going to want to enjoy this! Your boy Thugg is the same!”

 

Thugg gets to his feet and JD leaps off the turnbuckle, extending his legs out, right into the kneecap of HVT. The fans gape in fear from the super dropkick, but are thrilled that it only knocked HVT to one knee. JD smells the ache in HVT and heads for the leg, kicking hard at the thigh.

 

Riley: “Stay on the leg, and when the attention is diverted, go for the neck!”

 

Stevens: “That looks to be the plan! This will set up Jay Dawg’s finishers nicely!”

 

JD once again, takes himself outside, sliding under the rope and looking under the apron. He reaches under, pulling out a bo staff. Grabbing a hold of it, he spins it around down one arm, over the other, testing his skills with the well-known weapon. JD sticks it down, planting it into the mat. He lets it rest on the ring apron, near the ring entrance and digs under the apron once more. He grabs a hold, smiling, and pulls it out, a steel guardrail. He pulls it out, letting it stand on the ring apron, and slides it into the ring.

 

Stevens: “Quite a few weapons here! It looks to be some systematic destruction!”

 

HVT is back at his feet as JD starts to position the steel. The challenger walks up, waiting for JD to turn around. The champion finally lets the steel rest in between the ropes, over top the second rope in the near corner. JD continues fixing the steel when he notices the lights seem to darken, a giant shadow over top of him. He pauses, his jaw drops as he realizes what is behind him. JD turns around with a swing, driving his fist into mid air. HVT grabs JD by his side, pulling him off the mat and steps over the guardrail. The Thugg grins with the touch of sadism, as he drops to the mat, crushing Jay Dawg in between his body and the steel! The guardrail bounces, lifting JD up and back down hard into it. JD rests on the guardrail, which hasn’t been broken as HVT gets to his knees. He places his massive arms over JD, placing his hands into the chest and the ref counts.

 

One…

 

Two…

 

JD gets a shoulder up. He rolls over to HVT and falls off the guardrail.

 

Stevens: “Jay Dawg’s plan backfired and now he is in trouble!”

 

Riley: “Pfft! He just has a taller mountain to climb!”

 

Stevens: “You’d be a good motivator if you weren’t so full of shit!”

 

HVT gets to his feet and raises his arm up high, signaling for the Untamed, much to the pleasure of the crowd. JD slowly makes it to his feet and sees a colossal hand grab his throat, lifting him to his feet. JD tries to break free, gasping for breath in the process. He finally kicks HVT in the weak leg, but HVT isn’t fazed. JD kicks again, a third time, once more! Thugg’s grip weakens and Jay Dawg opens his eyes, staring straight into Thugg and kicks forward... all the fans wince in pain as the foot connects with the crotch of HVT. Thugg releases Jay Dawg and stays standing, looking forward but not focusing on anything. The balls finally roll back into the scrotum and Thugg grabs a hold, feeling the pain as JD pulls him into a headscissors.

 

Riley: “Oy! It’s all over!”

 

JD crosses the arms over Thugg’s throat, and leaps in the air… but doesn’t fall down… flying over top of HVT as Thugg counters JD’s Revenge with the back body drop. Dawg rises to his feet as HVT shakes off his wounded jewels. They stumble toward each other and the quicker JD strikes Thugg with a punch. Thugg retaliates with a punch of his own, knocking JD back into the ropes. JD bounces off the ropes and dives at Thugg, clobbering him with a roundhouse punch. The shot has HVT step back from the impact, but has him fire in return with a punch. JD sidesteps the arm, he grabs onto it, and quickly wringers it into a wrench. JD takes a step back and thrusts forward with his shoulder, right into the shoulder of HVT. JD thrusts back once more then propels him forward, driving his shoulder into the shoulder of HVT. The blow knocks the Thugg back toward the ropes. JD jumps up, lifting his left leg, then thrusts out his right, directing it into the chest of HVT with the deadly strike. Thugg reels backward, tipping over the ropes when JD jumps in the air, spinning backward, driving his foot backward with a mule kick into the chest of HVT, knocking him over the top rope and to the outside!

 

Stevens: “Some deadly strikes from Jay Dawg’s arsenal!”

 

Riley: “Noochers at them knocking HVT silly!”

 

Stevens: “Noochers?”

 

Riley: “You know, Jay and Silent… bah, you suck old timer.”

 

Stevens: “What? You mean Jay Dawg and Silent plan to team up?”

 

Riley: “Huh?”

 

Stevens: “What?”

 

Riley: “Jay and Silent Bob you numbnut!”

 

Stevens: “Oh those two stoners who spout nothing but dick and fart jokes?”

 

Riley: “Yeah. Snoogans.”

 

Stevens: “Bong.”

 

Back to the match… JD looks outside, down at the Thugg who is returning to his feet. He walks to the corner, climbing to the top rope, and glances down at HVT. He turns his back to his larger adversary and leaps off the top rope, flashbulbs light up the arena as JD turns his body over so he is upside down… crashing into Thugg, and the momentum carries them to the mat! JD hooks onto the weak leg of HVT and pulls it back, cradling for the pin.

 

One…

 

 

Two…

 

 

Th… Thugg kicks out, but JD keeps a hold of the leg. He holds the leg up, and gives it a toe kick.

 

Riley: “Look at JD. Going right back at the leg.”

 

Stevens: “A smart strategy. If you keep on the weak spot, it allows you to think of another move to do.”

 

Riley: “And he can make him tap out!”

 

Stevens: “I don’t think Thugg will ever tap out!”

 

JD continues to kick the leg, before scissorlocking it. The fans all scream for Thugg to move, and their wish is granted as Thugg snaps his leg to the side, forcing JD over top. JD breaks his grip and rolls forward, getting to his feet quite quickly. He turns back to Thugg who has sat up. JD shakes his head and marches forward. He grabs the back of Thugg’s neck, and his arm is suddenly gripped onto. Thugg pulls JD in front of him, and gets to his feet. He hangs onto the arm and begins to squeeze it down. He pulls JD into him, and knocks him down with a shortarm clothesline! Thugg doesn’t let go, as he pulls JD back up to his feet, and yanks him back, nailing him with another shortarm clothesline!

 

Stevens: “Jay Dawg just touched HVille Thugg’s neck, and is paying the price for it!”

 

Thugg turns to his side, spotting the staff that JD picked out. He grabs onto the long weapon, and turns back to JD. He lifts the stick up like a pole and jams it down, hitting the mat as JD rolls out of the way. JD starts to crawl away as Thugg swings the stick down like an ax, just missing Jay Dawg’s foot as the hardcore champ books it up the ramp. Thugg throws the weapon behind him, letting it lands in the ring and walks up the ramp, stalking JD. Like a horror movie, JD runs up, looking over his shoulder, stumbling as he does so, while Thugg walks with a steady pace.

 

Stevens: “Jay Dawg better run!”

 

Riley: “Pfft! He’ll wreck Thugg’s shit!”

 

JD steps through the curtains, but emerges back with a crate. He pulls out a watermelon from the crate and throws it at Thugg. HVT just punches the fruit, letting it seeds and juice splatter over the ramp. JD looks into the crate and pulls out a bit of rope. He throws it to the side, then throws the whole crate at Thugg. HVT swats it aside and JD rushes for him. Thugg raises his leg, and JD runs into the Timberlands, hitting the outside ramp hard. The audience erupts as JD is in the hands of a now very angry Thugg.

 

Riley: “Awe shit! JD! Watch out!”

 

Thugg clasps onto Jay Dawg’s throat and lifts him up in the air, not even letting him touch the ramp.

 

Stevens: “He won’t be able to kick Thugg in the nuts this time!”

 

JD hangs from Thugg’s hand, letting his body go limp. Thugg carries JD forward, spinning under the SmarkTron… and Jay Dawg grabs onto the set! Using all of his strength, JD holds onto the pipes on the SmarkTron and pulls on it. With Thugg’s hand still on his throat, JD kicks his opponent in the chest. Thugg releases the grip and JD stands on his shoulders, before jumping off, pulling himself on top of the SmarkTron. He lies on top of there for a second as he takes a second from the angry Thugg.

 

Riley: “Ha! I bet Thugg didn’t expect that!”

 

JD stands on top of the SmarkTron, the camera catching a shot of him. Leaving a giant image of JD behind him. He looks down at Thugg and starts to taunt him, who reaches, but can’t get a hold. The camera catches a shot of Thugg, airing it over the SmarkTron as his nostril flares. JD starts to turn around on the SmarkTron “AHH!!” getting a look at the giant image of Thugg. He turns around, deciding to face the smaller image of Thugg, even though that one can hurt him.

 

Stevens: “Watch out Jay Dawg! He’s everywhere!”

 

JD runs to the side of the SmarkTron, near all the cables. JD grabs onto them, far out of Thugg’s reach, and swings off them! He goes forward for three meters, then starts to swing backward, and straight for the HVille Thugg! JD extends his legs, driving for the ribs, but Thugg sidesteps! JD swings by Thugg, but is turned around quickly; JD swings back and kicks Thugg right in the ass! Thugg stumbles forward, right by the ramp as JD lands on his feet, he rushes forward. Thugg turns around on the ramp and sees Jay Dawg’s body diving right for him! JD leaves the ramp, diving at Thugg with the cross body. Thugg spotted what was down below and winces, but catches Jay Dawg as he drives his chest into him…

 

Stevens: “Oh no! There’s just tables down there!”

 

Thugg holds JD, but falls back, the weight and momentum too much even for him. He timbers backward off the ramp, straight for the two tables, side by side, below… but he turns over top of JD! Five feet… three feet… one foot… CRASH!!! Powerslamming the hardcore champ off the ramp and through two tables!

 

Stevens: “Holy shit that had to hurt!”

 

Riley: “I remember last month Jay Dawg was crazy enough to German suplex Annie off the edge! I didn’t think he would be crazy enough to try it again!”

 

Stevens: “Well he was! And it backfired! If Thugg can get his arm over top of JD, there will be a new hardcore champ!”

 

Thugg lies in between the debris of one table, and JD lies through the other. Neither man move, Thugg lying face down, and JD, like a hooker, is on his back. The ref is nearby, checking on the two men, who are motionless. They are conscious, as JD can be seen breathing, looking upward. Thugg rests his head to his side, breathing, looking over at JD, wanting to finish him off.

 

Stevens: “I remember it was almost a year ago! In the last man standing match, Thugg dove off that same edge, putting Storm through many tables!”

 

Riley: “Two of the toughest competitors out there!”

 

Stevens: “I have to agree, but after a move like that, this is anyone’s game!”

 

Nearly a minute has passed and Thugg crawls over. The fans erupt that he is moving first, raising his arm, and lets it fall. The audience erupts as the arm drapes itself over the chest of JD, raising and falling from Jay Dawg’s deep breathing.

 

ONE…

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

THRE…JAY DAWG GETS HIS SHOULDER UP!!!

 

Stevens: “I don’t believe it!”

 

Riley: “All he did was move!”

 

Stevens: “This is going to keep going! YOINKS!!!”

 

Riley: “Shut up, Scooby Doo.”

 

JD rolls over and begins to crawl toward the ramp, then down it’s side. Thugg starts to follow, crawling himself. JD pulls himself to his feet, with the help of the guardrail and the ramp. With his arms resting over top, and keeping his balance, JD makes the steps forward. Thugg gets to his feet on his own, and dashes for the now much slower JD. Thugg clubs him in the back of the head with a forearm, and knocks the hardcore champ facefirst to the ramp. Thugg grabs the back of Jay Dawg’s ponytail, which has lasted this far, breaking the ponytail and slams him facefirst into the ramp. Thugg pulls the hair once more, raising JD off the ramp, and slams him face first into the steel. Jay Dawg’s face bounces off the steel and he falls onto the ramp, letting himself roll down. Lying on his back, a tiny trickle of blood comes from his forehead.

 

Stevens: “It is time for some Thugg Passion!”

 

Riley: “Lord have mercy!”

 

Thugg limps toward JD, and pulls him into an inverted facelock. JD slides out of the inverted facelock instantly, landing behind Thugg with a waistlock, and rolls backward, taking Thugg to the ramp with a reverse roll up and scissorlocks the leg of the HVille Thugg! Jay Dawg falls backward, completing the Dawg Trap! “ARRGH!!” is all HVT can set out, as JD starts the process to bend his leg in directions not meant to be by mothernature.

 

Riley: “Yay! Thugg is going to lose by tap out! No rope breaks on the outside!”

 

Stevens: “I don’t think Thugg will tap out… but the danger is there!”

 

JD continues to pull on the leg, torquing as his eyes roll into blank eyed. He continues to yank on the leg as the crowd can see Thugg in the agony, starting up a cheer for their favorite angry black man. JD pulls on the leg, the beads of sweat pouring out, splattering over the mat. He continues to yank on the leg, pulling as hard as he can, worth his while as Thugg feels the pain. Thugg reaches backward, grabbing the ring apron, he starts to pull up. JD torques hard and Thugg lets go of the ring apron, but JD lets go of the submission. Thugg rolls toward the ramp, cradling his leg as JD gets to his feet and rolls inside the ring.

 

Riley: “Doh! He let go of his meal ticket!”

 

Stevens: “I disagree! JD needs something more deadly to beat Thugg!”

 

JD picks up the staff inside the ring, holding it up, he points it at Thugg to a series of boos. He twirls the stick around, showing off his skills, before reaching into his pocket. JD pulls out two rags, wrapping them over the ends of the staff. He takes a look outside, and with a limp, HVT is back at his feet. JD bounces off the ropes, sprinting for HVT with the staff in front, he leaps over the top rope… pointing the staff like an ax… JD floats over the top rope, heading straight for the Thugg. He hangs his grip, and with the dive, directs the tip of his staff for the forehead of HVT!! CRACK!! The audience boos out loud as Jay Dawg connects with the vile blow, knocking HVT down, and down hard.

 

Stevens: “Oh no! Jay Dawg just hit Thugg in the head with that staff!”

 

Riley: “You gotta do what you gotta do!”

 

Stevens: “Thugg couldn’t take any headshots! You know that!”

 

JD rolls to his feet as Thugg lays on the outside ramp, still as can be. JD places a foot on HVT’s chest, and the staff beside it. He raises his one arm and let’s them know this match is done, which gets massive heat. The ref makes the inevitable count.

 

ONE…

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

THREE…BYGAWDTHATFATNOSELLINGBASTARDKICKSOUT!!!

 

JD can’t believe it, looking at the ref like he’s insane. JD raises the staff, and smashes the side of it into Thugg’s chest cavity. Again! Again! Again!. He demands another count.

 

ONE…

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

THREE…NO!! THUGG KICKS OUT AGAIN!!

 

JD is livid and raises his staff once more, slamming it down, right into the hands of the HVille Thugg! Thugg looks into the eyes of Jay Dawg, staring hard as JD tries to push the staff down, to no use.

 

Stevens: “Thugg is alive!”

 

Riley: “Duh! Jay Dawg isn’t the Clan you know!”

 

JD tries to push the staff down harder, but is actually lifted up as Thugg sits up. Thugg gets to his feet and Jay Dawg can’t believe it. He releases the staff and swings at Thugg with a punch, but the weapon he released blocks it. Thugg tosses the staff in the ring and rolls JD inside as well. Thugg follows as JD rolls to the center of the ring, despite the weapons around him, JD begs for forgiveness, on his knees, pleading for Thugg to stop before it starts. Suddenly JD turns to his side and grabs the chain, lifting it up, Thugg grabs the steel and pulls JD inward! With the assistance of the chain, Thugg turns JD belly to back, and locks on a full nelson with the chain! Thugg lifts JD up off the mat, and slams him down with the full nelson slam, the chain landing on top! Thugg drops to his knees and makes the cover.

 

ONE…

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

THREE….NO!! JD KICKS OUT!!!

 

Thugg pulls JD up off the mat, and gets a forearm that rocks his mid-section. JD takes a step backward, and taps his leg off the mat. Thugg looks up as JD leaps in the air, spinning around, propelling his leg out with the roundhouse kick of all roundhouse kicks, and Thugg catches the leg. He holds it up high as JD falls into a split leg. Suddenly JD leaps into the air, spinning backward, and kicks the weakened knee of HVT! Thugg releases JD and the hardcore champ spins downward, driving his heel into the back of the HVille Thugg’s knee.

 

Riley: “Way to go Jay Dawg! You’ve exploited another weakness!”

 

Thugg drops to one knee as JD slides away to the turnbuckle, pulling the guardrail off the ropes. He tosses the guardrail in front of HVT and pulls the monster into a facelock. JD tosses the spare arm over his shoulder and lifts HVT upward, stepping forward, then falls backward with a vertical suplex, driving HVT into the guardrail! JD floats over and makes the cover.

 

ONE…

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

THREE… NO!! Thugg gets a shoulder up!

 

Riley: “Damn that fat bastard needs to stay down!”

 

Stevens: “I could say the same thing about JD!”

 

JD drags Thugg back up with the vertical suplex set up, and lifts, but Thugg doesn’t move, JD tries again, but Thugg sticks his leg through Jay Dawg’s blocking any more attempts. Before JD lets go, Thugg lifts, pulling JD high into the air. Thugg walks forward, turns around while letting all the blood flow to Jay Dawg’s brain, and before his leg gives out, drops him down hard onto the guardrail!

 

Stevens: “Even with his weakened leg, Thugg can pull off that power move! The strength he has is amazing!”

 

Thugg sits up, taking a glance back at the motionless JD, and makes the cover.

 

ONE…

 

 

Stevens: “New hardcore champion!”

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

THREE…OHSOCLOSEBUTJDGETSASHOULDERUP!!!

 

Now Thugg can’t believe it, but a different sense of disbelief… the disbelief that JD is stupid enough to go on. He shakes his head as he pulls JD to his feet, and debates on what to do. JD suddenly clasps onto Thugg’s arm and applies a bearhug, he lifts Thugg up, pivots slightly and drops the big man into the guardrail!

 

Riley: “What the fuck is this, a suplex exchange!?”

 

JD doesn’t go for the pin this time, picking up the chain, lifting it up over his shoulder, and slams it into the chest of Thugg! He lets the chain rest as he walks to the corner. “That’s it!” he shouts, as he climbs to the top rope. He takes a look down at the chained down Thugg, and stands fully on top of the turnbuckle. He holds his arms up high, measuring the distance, the dives off the top rope, extending his arms like a swan. He floats for HVT, headfirst, driving his Canadian noggin into the forehead of HVT! His chest falls into the guardrail. JD bounces hard off the skull of HVT, shaking off his cranium, as the blow is that painful. He makes the crawl forward, draping his arm over top of his fallen adversary.

 

ONE…

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

THREE… WILL HE EVER STAY DOWN!!!? Thugg kicks out!

 

Stevens: “Ok! This is starting to get insane!”

 

JD lifts his head up briefly, the sweat dripping off him as he looks forward at the ref. JD falls back down, not being able to believe the resiliency.

 

Riley: “I think these men were enjoying it at one point… but now… well I think you know what now!”

 

Stevens: “They want to end it!”

 

JD slowly rises, kneeling before Thugg. He pulls the adversary to a standing headscissors, crossing the arms over the throat. Jay Dawg tries to regain his energy as he stands over the guardrail. Thugg breaks free, latching onto JD! With a front waistlock, he lifts Jay Dawg up, pivots so he is over top of him, and crushes him into the guardrail with a belly-to-belly suplex! Thugg rests his massive body over top of JD, letting the ref make the pinfall…

 

ONE…

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

THREE… NO!! Jay Dawg kicks out strong, but lies limp the second after.

 

Stevens: “Another kick out! These guys are bringing all they have!”

 

Thugg rolls off of the hardcore champ, allowing JD to arch his back. Thugg grabs the chain that JD brought in, and wraps the massive steel links around his fist. JD rises, and gets a look at the man in front of him. CRACK!! Thugg punches JD with the chain, knocking the champ into the corner.

 

Stevens: “Thugg is carrying that chain like it’s regular size! Jesus!”

 

JD reaches down, grabbing the staff. Thugg swings with the chain, but JD swings the staff, connecting into the leg of HVT and dropping him! JD pulls the staff inward, and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a lighter, and lights the ragged tips on his staff. The flames erupt as JD swooshes the staff, driving it into Thugg’s chest! The crowd can see the flames, swoosh back and forth, as JD continues to drive the staff into Thugg’s chest. Finally, he pulls Thugg into a grapevine, placing the flaming staff beside him, over Thugg’s chest, as the flames beat on both sides. JD pushes toward the mat, but yanks back over the guardrail, slamming Thugg into it with a Russian leg sweep!

 

Stevens: “Oh my god! We have fire now!”

 

JD doesn’t go for the pin, instead placing Thugg’s good ankle into his weakened leg, and scissorlocks the hurting leg, while stepping on the ankle. He sticks the staff behind the leg, and uses the extra leverage to pull on the Hell Busting Knee Trap!

 

Stevens: “Oh shit! We haven’t seen this move in months!”

 

Riley: “If Thugg tries to break this hold, his leg will be broken! I love it!”

 

JD yanks on the hold as the screams of pain from Thugg can be heard all around. Although the screams are more like “I’m Gonna Wreck Yo Shit You Motherfucker!” The flames continue to burn, but they aren’t affecting Thugg. JD hooks into the staff, and pulls hard. Thugg grips onto the chain and although the pain hurts, he swings it hard, smacking into the face of JD! But the Dawgmeister doesn’t break the hold!

 

Stevens: “Thugg! No! If you break it, your leg will be broken!”

 

Thugg swings the chain once more, and it hits Jay Dawg’s hand! JD breaks the hold as he grabs at his wounded hand and Thugg smacks him with the chain once more! Connecting in the chest, JD releases his staff, letting it roll onto the guardrail, still flaming. JD rolls away, trying to get to his feet, doing so but is beat by a mere half second by the HVille Thugg. JD looks up into his eyes, as HVT grabs him by the throat, lifting him up high in the air, and drops him to the mat with the Untamed! Thugg grabs his knee as he let’s Jay Dawg lie. Then makes the cover.

 

Stevens: “Untamed! It’s over! It’s over!”

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

Riley: “No! This isn’t good!”

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

Stevens: “It’s over!”

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!

 

 

 

NO!!! JAY DAWG GETS HIS SHOULDER UP!!!

 

Silence enshrouds the arena as all look on in shock. HVT looks down at JD, the sweat pouring off of him as well. He shakes his head, chuckling as he has something planned for Jay Dawg. He pulls the hardcore champion up, and wraps the chain around his throat. He holds the chain tightly, choking JD out with it. Then pulls him into an inverted facelock. He places JD before the guardrail, and lifts him up over his head. Letting JD rest his knees on his shoulders, and pulls JD up in the air by the chain!

 

Stevens: “OH MY GOD!!! THUGG!!! THIS WILL KILL HIM!!!”

 

Riley: “No! I can’t look… wait… what’s this!!?”

 

Thugg continues to choke JD in the air, having him set up for the Thugg Passion, but letting him drape. Suddenly, from the ramp, someone in all black leaps over the railing and dives into the ring. His mask is all black. He looks at Thugg, who hasn’t spotted him yet.

 

Riley: “Oh my god! It’s the Masked Man! Run for your life Thugg!”

 

Stevens: “What Masked Man!? There’s been like five in the SWF!”

 

He stands in front of Thugg, who finally looks down, from the choke he has on JD. Thugg lets JD rest on his shoulder, then gently drops him to the mat. JD unwraps the chain as fast as he can, then lies there, trying to regain any bit of his breath. The Masked Man looks into the eyes of the HVille Thugg, the stare is well over a foot high. Thugg looks down, wondering what is going on, as are the millions of fans…

 

The screen splits in two, and on the otherside, is Stubby, watching from his office. Smiling at what is going on.

 

The Masked Man tilts his head, looking into Thugg.

 

Stevens: “If Stubby is watching this, it can’t be good!”

 

Thugg has had enough, and reaches for the Man’s mask, but the one in black catches the arm, shoves it aside, then leaps in the air, thrusting his leg upward, and with lightning speed, hits Thugg right underneath the jaw with it. HVT stands there, his eyes go glossy as he grabs his throat. The Masked Man falls to the ground, landing in a fighting stance. Thugg suddenly drops to his knees, and the man spins halfway, kicking Thugg in the back of the neck!

 

Stevens: “He’s going for Thugg’s neck! No!!”

 

Riley: “It’s not anyone from Creative Control! This guy isn’t that big!”

 

In Stubby’s office, the commissioner can be seen laughing loudly, proud at how fast he moves.

 

The man grabs the top of Thugg’s head, wrapping his hands around his neck, he leaps into the air, cartwheeling over top of him and to the guardrail. He grabs the staff, which is still flaming, and swings it at the head of HVT. CRACK!! And Thugg falls to the mat, face first. The man starts to spin around, holding the staff into him and spins it around, showing incredible skill with the weapon. He raises the staff, and jams it down, right into the neck of the HVille Thugg… but doesn’t lift up, leaving the flaming weapon into the back of Thugg’s neck, pushing it in harder!

 

Stevens: “This needs to stop! Somebody stop this madness!”

 

JD gets to his knees, looking at the man punishing the HVille Thugg, and smiles. JD unravels the chain around his own neck, and steps over HVT. He takes a look at the Masked Man and gives a nod, and the assailant takes a step back, pulling the staff off of Thugg’s neck, leaving a massive burn mark there. JD pulls Thugg up to his knees, and wraps the chain around Thugg’s throat. Wrapping tightly, he crossarms Thugg’s arms, leaps into the air, and smashes the former champion into the mat with JD’s Revenge! Thugg hits the mat hard, his own massive forearms driving the chain into his own throat. JD rolls Thugg onto his back and the Masked Man strike down with the staff into the chest!

 

Riley: “Oh jeez… This is getting bad!”

 

Stevens: “Somebody has to end this right now!”

 

Riley: “I agree! Thugg won’t be able to move!”

 

JD unwraps the chain, and holds onto it as he kicks away the guardrail. The Masked Man places the staff into Thugg’s chest, letting the flames burn a hole through his muscle shirt.

 

Stubby is clapping in his office, laughing at the destruction of Thugg.

 

Riley: “Stubby wants Thugg finished, permanently!”

 

JD suddenly opens his eyes, the brutal look piercing Thugg as he swings the chain down hard, right into Thugg’s chest, and the whole arena feels it with Thugg. They pull the man to his feet and JD points to the Masked Man. Suddenly, a whole team of referee and security comes down the ramp. JD smiles as he holds his chain out and the Masked Man holds out the staff. Two refs come in, and JD takes them both out with a swing of the chain. The next unfortunate ref is struck hard by the Masked Man’s staff. Three security men come in, avoid JD and go for the Masked Man. The ultra quick assailant strikes the middle one, then leaps in the air, splits his legs, and kicks the two in the face. All six men roll outside and the assailant turns back to Thugg, pulls him in an inverted facelock with his left arm, hanging over the guardrail. He swings his right arm forward, driving it into the chest of Thugg, and smashing him down into the guardrail with the inverted DDT!!

 

Stevens: “I know that move! It’s the Turn ‘N’ Burn!”

 

Riley: “The Masked Man is Z! OMYGODZ!@$*%!!”

 

Stevens: “No… it’s not Z!”

 

The man springs to his feet and all look on as he reaches for his mask… pulls on it.

 

Stevens: “IT’S!!!”

 

The man yanks his mask off and throws it to the ground.

 

Stevens: “It’s Divefire! OH MY GOD!!! He’s back!”

 

Riley: “I don’t believe it!”

 

JD grins arrogantly, almost laughing at the man who has been brought back. JD extends his arm and Divefire shakes it. The two share a brief hug as JD raises Divefire’s arm. The crowd goes insane, booing the two men standing before them. JD releases Divefire and calls the ref over, making the pinfall. The ref mercifully makes the count.

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!

 

JD raises his arms and the crowd boos maliciously. ‘Du Haste’ hits the speakers as the refreshements like popcorn and pop are thrown into the ring.

 

Funyon: “The winner of this match… AND STILL S-W-F HARDCORE CHAMPION!!! JAY DAWG!!!”

 

The fans start to boo and curse, showing all signs of hate for Jay Dawg and Divefire.

 

Stevens: “Jay Dawg has just retained his hardcore title! But not only that, Divefire has returned tonight!”

 

Riley: “It’s beautiful! I haven’t seen him in over a year!”

 

Stevens: “The question is why! WHY DAMMIT WHY!!!?”

 

JD and Divefire continue to raise their arms in victory, as Thugg lies motionless, now with burns and a much weaker neck. They pull Thugg up off the mat, and Divefire grabs the staff. JD taunts Thugg to move, but the man can’t even do that. Divefire suddenly lifts his staff, and strikes it down into the back of Thugg’s neck, knocking him forward into JD. The hardcore champ grabs Thugg in a ¾ nelson facelock and drops to the mat with the Final Thought! Thugg’s jaw snaps into Jay Dawg’s shoulder, and he bounces off it his head/neck shaking violently as he falls to the mat.

 

Stevens: “Dammit! Get some medical attention out here!”

 

Riley: “So they can be beaten like the last set!”

 

JD and Divefire stand up once more, then finally exit the ring, carrying the chain and staff with them. JD places the chain over his shoulders as Divefire carries the staff. EMTs come out by the dozen, as they run by the two and dive into the ring, checking on HVT. Jay Dawg’s eyes remain open as he looks back at Thugg, his sadistic grin seen by the world.

 

Stevens: “This is disgusting! Folks do not go away though! We have both a ladder match, AND a No Holds Barred Main Event! You don’t want to miss it!”

 

One last look at JD and Divefire…

 

The flame still burns.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

*** Having just seen a wicked, brutal and most definitely wickedly brutal Hardcore title match, we go backstage in the halls of the Pepsi Center as we see Tom Flesher walking in front of the Avalanches' locker room, wiping the sweat off his forehead with a towel; obviously under the effects of what has been a grueling night. As he walks through the interview area, headed for his own dressing room, he hears a faint noise. He looks around, and casually brushes it off as nothing. He resumes his way, but quickly stops again … ***

 

"Hey Tom…"

 

*** That voice is familiar. Tom is on his guard … ***

 

Tom: What? Who's there?…

 

" … hinter Ihnen …"

 

Tom: "Behind me" ? What the hell?… (calmly turns 180) OH SH-- ..!!

 

*** Tom is quickly interrupted as Tod deKindes' foot comes FLYING into the picture with a NASTY superkick to the jaw, which sends Tom staggering into the standard issue klangy metal poles. Tod pounces on him and starts hammering away at him with hard right hands. He then yanks up the helpless Flesher to his feet by the hair and then RAMS his head into a nearby vending machine. He tries to stagger off, holding his face but Tod quickly catches up to him and grabs his head for some more hurtin'; but Tom fights out of it with a series of kidney punches! A few shots are enough to subdue Tod, as he sends him running into a wall. He starts laying into the german one with rights of his own, but suddenly a horde of officials enter the picture to separate them. ***

 

Stevens: (watching this from the announce booth) Tod deKindes and Tom Flesher are going at it!!

 

Riley: IT'S THE APOCALYPSE!!

 

*** Both men are finally separated, but they seem to want more. ***

 

Tom: (as he's being escorted away) We're not done, you little nazi PUNK!! We'll finish this!! WE'LL FINISH THIS!!

 

*** A rare evil grin appears on Tod's face, as he watches Flesher being taken away. He knows what he's doing … ***

[Guest BA_Baracus]

Apocalypse returns from a brief SWF ad, and to the ring we go, where Funyon stands tall at the center. He stretches his arms out, displaying the mic that he never leaves without. The veteran awaits his cue, but until then, the attention of the arena is diverted to the giant Smarkstron above the Apocalypse set as "Violent Fetish" airs over the speaker systems.

 

"(Mark) Up next! The Pink Slip Ladder Match between Erek Taylor and the Boston Strangler!!"

 

"(Riley) And in this match, Erek will lose."

 

"(Mark) Stop trying to be Miss Cleo."

 

"(Riley) My mother said I could be anything I wanted to be."

 

"(Mark) Your mother also said you were a moron."

 

"(Riley) Ah, touche."

 

"(Mark) Well, let's take a look at how this one came to be."

 

 

The Smarkstron slowly begins to hum....

 

Beep.... Beep....

 

....until the black screen fades into a series of words-

 

"One life will be changed forever."

 

-before fading to the video.

 

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

 

 

 

 

"Bring the violence...."

 

 

 

A passenger bus drives by and stops as Erek jumps in front of its path. Erek Taylor orders the driver of the bus to halt, and seeing the carnage laid in front of him, the driver obeys. Erek jumps back on Strangler, and delivers a right hand. Phasing Strangler on the car, Erek jumps into the air, grabbing the top of the bus with his hands. He pulls himself up, and stands atop the Seattle bus.

 

"(Mark) He won't! Erek Taylor is on top of a bus and god knows what he's going to do!"

 

The fans in the arena are watching every moment, and they are ecstatic. Erek takes one last breath before launching himself into the air!! Spinning and twisting and turning in the Seattle wind, Erek comes flying down, transferring himself from the top of the bus to the top of the car!! CORKSCREW MOONSAULT-

 

 

........ RIGHT INTO NOTHING!!! STRANGLER ROLLS OFF THE CAR AND EREK GOES CRASHING INTO THE TOP OF THE CAR!!!

 

CUE THE COUNTLESS "OOOOOOH!!"s!!!

 

"(Mark) OH MY GOD!!! STRANGLER ROLLED OUT OF THE WAY AND EREK TAYLOR COMPLETED A CORKSCREW MOONSAULT INTO THE CAR!!!"

 

 

 

"It's significant to the life...."

 

 

 

"Gus, quick, turn the damn camera around!"

 

The camera turns around, and the sedan in which Strangler, TNT, and Frost were in is now in a horrifying condition. The windows on the left side, the driver side, is all shattered. There's no trace in which what did it. Hardy races forward, Gus following close behind when they hear a loud screeching noise.

 

Then, out of the left side...

 

 

CRAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

 

Another black sedan rams right into the left side of the vehicle! The door of the attacking vehicle opens, and Erek Taylor steps out with an aluminum bat in hand!!! The crowds roar with approval as Erek hops on to the car's hood and starts swinging his bat, shattering the windshield of Strangler's car into pieces!!

 

 

 

 

"It's significant to the life.... Can you feel it?"

 

 

 

 

Strangler reaches forward and grabs a chunk of Erek's hair!! He pulls the ICTV Champion in and quickly tries to set up the reverse DDT drop- but Erek quickly fights back, driving an elbow into Strangler's face to release the grip before leaping into the air and twisting around to deliver a heel kick across Strangler's face!! Strangler drops to the ground and Erek crawls away.

 

"(Riley) What is he doing? Why is he running?"

 

"(Mark) I'm no psychic, you fool!"

 

Erek crawls towards the Smarkstron, and with that, he takes a look around. Strangler is once again on the hunt, and out of desperation, Erek starts to climb. Strangler climbs after the Prince, successfully grabbing one of Erek's shoes. Strangler tries to pull Erek down but the ICTV Champion uses his free leg to kick Strangler off. Strangler doesn't discourage, climbing after the High Flying Prince again.

 

"(Mark) My god, he just goes higher and higher."

 

"(Riley) I can see it now. Strangler, the man to end Erek's career!"

 

Erek reaches halfway, trying to get away from the Boston Strangler, who continues his pursuit. Suddenly, an explosion of cheers. The camera goes to the entrance way, where two figures go up to Strangler and pulls the giant down!

 

"(Mark) WHAT THE? IT'S LDP AND TOD DEKINDES!! LDP AND TOD DEKINDES!! X FORCE 9 IS HERE!!"

 

"(Riley) NOOOOO!!!"

 

LDP and Tod pulls Strangler back down to the ground, leading him away from his pursuit and pummeling him back with joint right hands!! The two XF9ers back Strangler up to one of the wrecked cars that serves as decorations for the set. They continue their assault but Strangler bursts through like a caged animal, decking them both with a double clothesline. LDP staggers to his feet, and Strangler quickly slaps on a chokehold!!

 

"(Mark) CHOKESLAM!! CHOKESLAM!!"

 

But Tod denies the attempt, lunging forward and driving a forearm across Strangler's leg! Strangler loses his balance for a bit, but manages to regain it, only to get doubled over with a kick to the gut from LDP! LDP steps forward, and wraps his arm around Strangler's head. Strangler's former rival quickly hooks the arms of the behemoth, and hoists him into the air. The arena explodes and LDP drives Strangler into the concrete with a double armed DDT!! CLOGGER!!! LONGDOGGER CLOGGER!!!

 

"(Riley) NOO! THIS ISN'T FAIR!!!"

 

Tod and LDP drag Strangler to the top of the wrecked car. They mount themselves on each side, delivering hard rights to the face of the Boston Strangler. The fans are so into the beating that they don't even notice that Erek Taylor has climbed to the top of the Smarkstron!!

 

"(Mark) Oh my god, he won't!"

 

"(Riley) He will!"

 

LDP and Tod hold on to Strangler. The fans watch on, and Erek Taylor leaps off the Smarkstron!!!! Time slows down drastically, and everyone has their eyes pasted to the scene. Erek Taylor flies off the Smarkstron, and in the air, twists and turns, until he heads down....

 

 

down 30 feet....

 

 

 

 

down 20 feet.....

 

 

 

 

 

down 10 feet.......

 

 

CRAAASSSHHHHH!!!!!!

 

....AND COMPLETES A TWISTING MOONSAULT ON THE BOSTON STRANGLER FROM THE TOP OF THE SMARKSTRON!!! THE ARENA EXPLODES AS LDP AND TOD KEEPS EREK LYING ON TOP OF THE BOSTON STRANGLER!!!

 

 

 

"How do you sleep...."

 

 

 

The pizzeria is strangely empty, occupied by only two men, who sit in booths at the opposite end of the restaurant. Strangler is hunched over a large pepperoni pizza, slowly taking a bite out of a piping hot slice as he stares maliciously at the seatback in front of him. Strangler grinds his teeth together, mashing the pizza into tiny, miniscule pieces as he broods. Strangler spits a piece of something that looks suspiciously like a pebble out, and begins to mumble to himself again under his breath. “Everything gone wrong…everything gone wrong…”

 

 

 

"When you live with your lies....."

 

 

 

Erek Taylor is alone, sitting on a hard wooden bench, looking out through the bars of his cell.

 

 

 

"That kind of thinking..."

 

 

 

 

"(Mark) OH MY GOD!!! DOWNFALL FROM THE SMARKSTRON!!! EREK TAYLOR IS CRAZY!!!"

 

 

 

 

"...starts a chain reaction...."

 

 

 

 

Strangler grabs Erek by the wrist and whips him into the intersection again- OOOOH!!! But Erek counters the whip and sends Strangler there, just as a nearby sedan comes speeding by!! The driver of the sedan brakes at the sudden scene of Strangler, but the brakes are not strong enough and the vehicle hits Strangler!! Strangler rolls up to the top of the hood from the impact, and lies there as the driver opens the door.

 

"(Mark) YES!!! LISTEN TO THIS CROWD!! THEY LOVE IT!! STRANGLER GOT WHAT HE DESERVED!!"

 

"(Riley) Stupid Seattle bitch!! You hit the Strangler!!! SOMEBODY GET CHRIS WILSON ON THE LINE!!"

 

Erek moves forward and shoves the driver aside, who tries to tend to the M7 behemoth. The High Flying Prince jumps on top of the car's hood and walks up the windshield before mounting himself on Strangler's chest. With oncoming traffic honking at its loudest, Erek rains down a hefty load of hard rights while also snapping on a choke hold to amplify the damage! After a good exchange of punches, Erek hooks Strangler's leg up for the cover:

 

 

 

ONE!!!

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!

 

 

 

 

 

THREE! OOOOOOHHHH!!!!!

 

Here comes the response!! The crowds are in disbelief!! Strangler pops his shoulder forward and the referee stops the count. Erek Taylor is appalled!! He can't believe it as well!!

 

"(Riley) YES!! Strangler is the toughest of them all!! He still kicked out after he got hit by a car!!"

 

 

 

 

"Let out the beast...."

 

 

 

 

The set of Ground Zero is prominent in the background as Strangler and Erek are doing battle for the 20th time that night. Strangler sits back and lets the show wash over him like a wave, as his thoughts roam free in the darkened room.

 

"EREK TAYLOR. He cost me my title shot against Thoth. He cheated to beat me at Ground Zero. And now he and his XF9 buddies have decided to torture me…and they want to get rid of me. They want to split me from Wilson. They’re like wolves…they want to separate me from the pack, and then gang up on me. Well it’s not gonna work."

 

 

 

"Step right up and be a part of the action....."

 

 

 

"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!!!"

 

 

"Get your game face on! Because it's time to play....."

 

 

 

Strangler grabs Erek by the wrist and whips him into the intersection again- OOOOH!!! But Erek counters the whip and sends Strangler there, just as a nearby sedan comes speeding by!! The driver of the sedan brakes at the sudden scene of Strangler, but the brakes are not strong enough and the vehicle hits Strangler!!

 

 

"It's time to play........"

 

 

 

 

The fans watch on, and Erek Taylor leaps off the Smarkstron!!!! Time slows down drastically, and everyone has their eyes pasted to the scene. Erek Taylor flies off the Smarkstron, and in the air, twists and turns, until he heads down....

 

 

"It's....."

 

 

DOWN 30 FEET....

 

 

"Time....."

 

 

 

DOWN 20 FEET.....

 

 

 

"To....."

 

 

DOWN THE LAST TEN FEET.......

 

 

 

"Play."

 

 

 

CRAAASSSHHHHH!!!!!!

 

 

 

"Well my brother, let me show you a better way....."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"So get your game face on because it's time to play....."

 

 

 

 

 

"(Riley) I can see it now. Strangler, the man to end Erek's career!"

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

(beep) (beep)

 

 

 

"(Funyon) The following match is scheduled to be a Pink Slip Ladder Match!!! The rules are as follows: the first competitor to retrieve the briefcase from fifteen feet above will be declared the winner of this match and NOT be fired......"

 

A brief silence relays over the Pepsi Center, but it drastically swerves into thundering boos as "Burn to Burn" begins to blare out! With every beat, with every drumroll, with every guitar sounding, the tensions begin to mount higher and higher. The Boston Strangler emerges from the shadows, no sadistic grin to boost his ego. He stands there, emotionless, and takes into account the ladder that has been set before him. Strangler ventures forward, and remains unaffected from the cursing and the slang thrown at him from the Colorado fans.

 

"....Introducing first, he weighs in at 303 pounds, from Boston, Massachuchetts, a member of the Magnificent Seven..... THE! BOSTON!! STRANGLER!!!!!!!!"

 

Once again, the boos thunder down like a locomotive train, and it continues on and on as Strangler enters the ring and rises to the top of his 6'9 height.

 

"(Mark) Well, no rules, it's all fight from here. Erek and Strangler, the winner will stay in the federation. The loser? Fired on the spot. Matches like these are never good to call."

 

"(Riley) I'm surprised you didn't get to say anything during the video."

 

"(Mark) I was getting caught in the moment."

 

Strangler paces around the ring, and stays at the far end of the squared circle as the opening rifts of "Downfall" begins to flow through.

 

"Can I break away? Push me away,

make me fall,

just to see,

another side of me...."

 

"Push me away, you can't see,

what I see,

the other side of me!"

 

"NO ONE CAN SEE ANYTHING ON THE OTHER SIDE OF ME!"

"I WALK! I CRAWL! LOSING EVERYTHING, READY FOR A DOWNFALL!"

 

The chorus ends and a massive explosion rocks the arena, shaking the very foundations with its high octane pyrotechnics. Smoke is sent to conceal the entrance area, but the audience knows what's in store. They chant his name...

 

"Erek!"

 

"Erek!"

 

...encouraging him to fight the good fight. But the Prince doesn't appear, instead, his voice booms across the arena, igniting countless cheers across the stage as well as making his prescence known.

 

"Denver, Colorado!"

 

A pop for the mention of the city before the crowd subdues into silence...

 

"It's the High Flying Prince against the Bostonian Hooker! One more time, one last time! Tonight is the night! The Originator of the Fame and Fury will put this rat of a human being away for good! Tonight, Erek Taylor will defeat the Boston Strangler and rid the federation of his prescence! Tonight, the action will be fast, it will be furious, but most importantly, Erek Taylor defeating the Boston Strangler, one last time, it will be....

 

CRAAZZZYYY!!!!! So Strangler, keep your panties on because you're going to go out with a bang."

 

Another explosion rocks the stage, and Erek Taylor is shadowed in silhouette. The fans are in absolute riot-mode, cheering their hearts out as the High Flying Prince moves down the ramp.

 

"(Funyon) And his opponent! From Anaheim, California, weighing in at 195 pounds, a member of X Force Nine... EREK!!! TAAAYYYYLLLOOORRRR!!!!!"

 

Erek speeds into the ring, and before the two rivals converge, the referee steps in between to halt the action. He takes one last check around the ring, above the ring, and slashes the air....

 

Ding ding ding!!!

 

....signaling the match and the action to begin!! Erek and Strangler begin to circle the ring, eyes glaring upon one another as the tensions continue to rise and rise. The fans are in the mood, cheering for the favorite with every ounce of heart they've got. The two competitors quickly lock up in the center, and Strangler wins the exchange, twisting his arms around Erek's neck and trapping him in a hammerlock. Erek battles back, driving multiple elbows into the torso of the behemoth, but Strangler doesn't give in to the pain, and shoves Erek down with a bang!

 

"(Mark) Now that's power! Strangler sends Erek flying across the ring with a simple yet effective shove."

 

"(Riley) So, who do you think's going to win?"

 

"(Mark) Hard to say at this point."

 

Erek rises to his feet, confidence and energy not affected as the two lock up at the middle one more time. Strangler tries for another hammerlock, but before he can, Erek counters with a knee to the gut. Erek grabs Strangler by the wrist and sends him hurling to the ropes. The giant rebounds, and floors Erek with a shoulder block! Erek pops back up, but Strangler is ready and swings a right hand...

 

WHAM!!

 

The punch sends Erek staggering. Strangler looks to continue his assault, and advances in with another pair of hard rights that pummels Erek over to the corner. But the High Flying Prince doesn't stay there long as he bursts out with a ferocious clothesline- but Strangler remains standing!! Erek doesn't hesitate to attack, and lashes out with another clothesline. He stumbles Strangler a bit but the behemoth remains standing. He flashes a smile, a smile at the foiled attempts to knock him down. With that, he surges ahead and collides with one massive headbutt, ensuring that Erek Taylor is sent stumbling towards the ropes. Strangler moves forward and grabs a chunk of the Prince's hair, and with one mighty swirl, throws him out of the ring.

 

"(Mark) At Ground Zero, Erek Taylor defeated the Boston Strangler in a memorable streetfight, which is considered to be Strangler's playground. Will Strangler defeat Erek here today in Erek's signature match?"

 

"(Riley) Yes. Yes he will."

 

Strangler heads out, and snatches Erek by the head before sending him rocketing into the steel pole. The impact shakes the Prince up, and sends him spinning out of proportions. Regardless, Erek manages to catch his balance, only to get floored from a Yakuza kick, courtesy of the Boston Strangler!! Strangler inhales the boos, and heads over to the ladder. He folds it up and brings it back before sliding it into the ring. The behemoth then enters the squared circle, and sets up the ladder right beneath the briefcase before starting his climb towards the top.

 

"(Mark) Wow, Strangler's going for the briefcase early. He's not wasting anytime to mindgames. He's all business tonight!"

 

"(Riley) Strangler is always business."

 

Strangler climbs up the steps as fast as he can, reaching halfway before Erek Taylor slides into the ring. Spotting the behemoth laying a hand on the briefcase ignites Erek's reflexes, and propells him to deliver a dropkick to the heels of the Boston Strangler, temporarily leaving him motionless. Erek heads to the ropes, where he bounces off and with both hands pressed against the ladder, pushes it down with all his might. Strangler avoids the fall, hopping off at the last second before catching a Erek punch to the right. He shakes his head before rocketing a hard hook, connecting it with the chin of Erek Taylor! Strangler ventures forward, and hoists Erek in the air before planting him to the ground with a scoop slam. The behemoth seeks for the ladder, and sets it back up at the center before starting a second climb towards the top. He climbs and climbs and once again, lays a finger on the briefcase.

 

"(Mark) And again, Strangler has a hold on the briefcase."

 

Erek scrambles to meet up with his nemesis, and pulls the behemoth down before he can grab the briefcase. A sigh of relief pours over, but it is overshadowed as Erek brings Strangler back up and lashes out, hard chop across the M7 member's chest!

 

SMACK! .... WHOOOOO!!!

 

Another chop.

 

SMACK! .... WHOOOOO!!!

 

A third chop-

 

SMACK! .... WHOOOOO!!!

 

-before Erek grabs Strangler by the wrist and hurls him to the ropes. Strangler rebounds, and walks right into a scissor sweep by Erek Taylor, who trips Strangler into the ladder, toppling it over in an instant! The crowds bursts into cheers as Erek pops up and heads over to the ladder. He grabs the portable mountain by its summit and drags it to the center, where he sticks Strangler's right leg through. Strangler tries to get out of the predicament, but Erek Taylor puts a stop to it with a fierce kick to the chest. The High Flying Prince then heads back to the ladder, and with it neatly folded around Strangler's leg, begins to stomp on the ladder, crushing Strangler's leg within the pressure.

 

"(Mark) Erek Taylor's also business. He's wasting no time and he's taking it to the giant, trying to destroy the vertical base."

 

"(Riley) Thank you for stating the obvious."

 

Erek continues to stomp away, but Strangler doesn't seem to weaken. The giant only grinds his teeth from the pain, and seeing that, Erek concedes from his plan and drags Strangler back up. Erek draws his right arm back and sends his rocketing forward, connecting it with Strangler's chin. Strangler stutters, but catches his balance as Erek swings another hard right- only to get it blocked! Strangler counters with a heavy headbutt, and before you know it, the behemoth is pummeling Erek back with right hand after right hand. The ferocity of the punches pushes Erek towards the ropes, a ill-fated place to be as Strangler proves good to the theory and clotheslines the former ICTV Champion out of the ring.

 

"(Riley) There we go! Come on Strangler, wait! No! Don't come out, go get the briefcase!"

 

Strangler exits the ring, and heads forward to inflict further damage on his archnemesis. He grabs Erek by the hair, and sends the Prince crashing into the side of the announcers' table! But Erek doesn't stay put, as he bursts back out with a ferocious clothesline that floors Strangler in an instant! The High Flying Prince drags Strangler back up and rolls him into the ring before ascending to the apron himself. Erek measures the rope, and with that, slingshots over and plants Strangler with a body splash. He heads over to the ladder, and sets it back up before starting a climb himself. Erek reaches the top, and circles his hand around the briefcase-

 

"(Mark) Erek's got it! He's got the briefcase!"

 

"(Riley) No he doesn't! No he doesn't!"

 

-but before the XF9er can retrieve the briefcase, Strangler rises back up to his feet and races over to grab Erek by the ankle. Strangler pulls, but Erek calmly responds with a kick to the face, sending Strangler heading the other way. Little does the High Flying Prince know, the ropes at the edge of the ring bounces Strangler back, allowing the M7 behemoth to push the ladder down with all his might! Erek jumps out of the way, but because of the late response, his neck catches the top rope by surprise, and Erek crumples to the ground! Strangler kicks the ladder aside, and heads over to the downed Erek Taylor. He brings Erek back up before swinging and connecting a hard uppercut, pushing Erek into the corner. Strangler measures Taylor up, and with nothing holding him back, begins to hail down a hefty load of hard rights and lefts into the small but durable torso of the High Flying Prince!!

 

"(Mark) Strangler corners Erek, and lets out a good combination of punches. What do you think he's planning, Riley?"

 

"(Riley) Kill first. Win later."

 

After a satisfying exchange, Strangler grabs hold of Erek's wrist and sends the flyer whipping across the ring, right into the opposite corner. Strangler rages in, and collides with the High Flying Prince in the form of a ferocious clothesline. Erek falls forward, but Strangler catches him and hoists him in the air. He brings Erek over to the center, before rendering a quick fall backwards and planting Erek into the canvas with a fallaway slam. The impact is tremendous, shaking the very foundations of the squared circle as Strangler rises to his feet and heads over to the downed body of Erek Taylor. He swings a hard right, expecting no resistance. But of course, he expected wrong as Erek eludes the attack and counters with a superkick that stumbles Strangler out on to the apron. Strangler tends to his face, blinding his eyes as Erek races in and delivers another superkick, sending Strangler crashing down to the mat below!!

 

"(Mark) I think Strangler might of underestimated Erek Taylor right there."

 

"(Riley) No, he knows that was coming. Strangler is just that smart. It's all an act."

 

Strangler piles back on his feet, still tending to his face as Erek brings life to the audience, bouncing off the ropes and heading towards Strangler at top speed. Erek leaps up on the third rope, and launces himself in the air, spinning and twisting into a corkscrew splash! Both fighters fall to the ground, but of different reasons. Erek rises back up to face an ecstatic crowd as he brings Strangler back up. But Strangler is far from done and breaks free of Erek's hold. He snaps on a chokehold, taking life away from the Prince as he tosses Erek into the barricade, sending the fans in the front row into an absolute riot. Strangler decks Erek with a hard right, a punch so hard it knocks Erek over, sending the Prince over the sacred wall and to the stands. Security steps in and quickly parts the crowd away as Strangler steps over the wall. He tosses a nearby fan aside, and grabs the steel chair that was once the fan's seat. Strangler raises the chair up high, waiting for what seems like an eternity for Erek to stagger up. And as Erek does-

 

 

CLANG!!!

 

 

-Erek falls victim to a chair shot from behind!! The crowds begin to jeer, which only seems to happy the Boston Strangler, who raises both his hands in the air and smiles, obviously not infuriating over the fact that the audience hates his guts. Strangler leads Erek back to ringside, where he rolls the ex ICTV Champion back into the ring. Before entering, Strangler throws up the curtains and reaches under the ring. He pulls out a second ladder and slides it in, before entering the ring himself.

 

"(Mark) Two ladders? One ladder is dangerous enough, but two? I'm thinking the Boston Strangler wants more than just Erek out of the federation."

 

"(Riley) Come on, that's so obvious. Strangler's after blood."

 

Erek piles to his feet, and with Strangler in plain view, takes a swing at the behemoth. He connects with the right hand, and moves in to deliver a second punch, a third, a fourth before grabbing hold of Strangler's wrist and hurling him to the ropes. Strangler rebounds and scouts out the back body drop attempt, quickly putting a stop to it with a kick to the chin that pops Erek back up. Erek dangles for a second, and manages to catch his posure. All a second too late as Strangler rages in with a hard lariat. Strangler doesn't waste any time, quickly bringing one ladder and laying it on the turnbuckle. It stays there, seemingly taunting gravity as it sways from one left to right, never falling over because of the ropes. Strangler makes sure it's sturdy, and once realizing that it is, heads over to the body of Erek Taylor. He drags Erek back up, who starts battling back with multiple elbows. But Strangler doesn't phase, and counters Erek's retaliation with a massive headbutt. Erek is helpless, and Strangler knows it. With a hand firmly on Erek's head, Strangler uses all the brute force he has in him-

 

 

CRAASSHHH!!!

 

 

-and throws Erek Taylor into the ladder!! Erek doesn't fall, surprising everyone in the arena including himself. But upon further inspection, the High Flying Prince's arms has trapped itself in between the steps. Strangler smiles, and brings the second ladder up. He holds it in front of himself, before racing in towards Erek Taylor....

 

 

CRAAAASSSHHHHH!!!!

 

 

-AND SANDWICHES THE HIGH FLYING PRINCE BETWEEN THE TWO LADDERS!!! The response is obviously hateful, and Strangler sandwiches Erek again with the two ladders!! He backs away, takes a breath, and sandwiches Erek between the two ladders for a third consecutive time!!!

 

"(Mark) Now that was just sickening!!"

 

"(Riley) Anything to get the job done, I say."

 

Strangler looks for a fourth sandwich, but Erek senses the attack coming, and with a burst of energy, leaps out of the way, sending Strangler crashing into the two ladders himself! Strangler drops the ladders on top of one another, and stumbles towards the center of the ring as Erek seemingly rises to his feet. He takes one look, and breaks off into a run, heading fast and furiously forward. Erek puts one hand on Strangler's head, and with that, pulls it forward and plants it into the mat with a ferocious bulldog! Strangler slowly rises back up, and Erek takes advantage, spinning the behemoth around to a hard right uppercut. Erek delivers another uppercut, pushing Strangler to the corner before unleashing a flurry of hard kicks straight up! Strangler tries blocking the kicks, but they are just too fast and gets caught in the fury. Erek continues the martial arts kicks, but as he begins to grow weary, his speed drops, allowing the vitalist Boston Strangler to burst out with a nasty clothesline. Erek staggers back up, at Strangler's disposal as the behemoth grabs him by the hair and throws him over the top rope! But Erek holds on and manages to land on the apron, surprising the Boston Strangler who rears a punch back and rockets it forward- only to catch empty air! Erek ducks under and thrusts a shoulder forward, staggering Strangler the other way. Strangler turns back, but as he does, Erek grabs the front ladder and leans it against the top rope. With Strangler heading forward, Erek pushes down as hard as he can, vaulting the other side of the ladder straight up!!

 

CLANG!!

 

The ladder catches Strangler by the chin, and the behemoth is slowly beginning to wear down. Erek doesn't hesitate, quickly leaping up on the third rope before launching himself in to deliver a missile dropkick that floors the Boston Strangler!!!

 

"(Mark) WHOA!! Erek used the ladder to perfection, delivering a ladder uppercut!!"

 

"(Riley) It's been done."

 

Strangler staggers back up, almost showing no signs of weakness. Erek thinks otherwise, and bounces off the ropes for a fast assault. Strangler scouts out the move, and raises his boot up to meet Erek at the middle- and floors the High Flying Prince with a big boot to the face. Strangler tends to his jaw, but seeing no blood, heads back to the match. He drags Erek up and hoists the flyer in the air before planting him into the canvas with a hard powerslam. The Boston Strangler grabs a ladder and sets it up in the middle, right on top of Erek Taylor! The behemoth begins his climb, with the ladder firmly trapping Erek under.

 

"(Riley) Now isn't that smart? Strangler's trapping Erek down with the ladder."

 

"(Mark) That won't bring this story to an end."

 

"(Riley) I think it will."

 

Strangler heads up the ladder, but as he reaches halfway, the ladder begins to sway. He looks down, and finds Erek Taylor pushing with all his might!! Strangler shakes his head in disbelief, and tries to hop off but it's too late, and the ladder teeters over, dragging Strangler down with it as well!!! The crash is tremendous, but the reaction from the audience is deafening as Erek rolls over on to his stomach and begins pushing himself back up. Erek rises back up, and heads over to the Bostonian, and unleashes a fury of hard right hands that pummels Strangler into the corner. He continues the assault, grabbing Strangler by the wrist and trying an irish whip across the ring- but Strangler counters, and sends Erek crashing into the turnbuckle, hard. Erek staggers forward, arching his back in pain as Strangler rears an arm back, and rockets it forward, flooring Erek Taylor with another hard lariat!

 

"(Mark) Strangler's looking to take control here. But how long will it take."

 

Erek staggers up, and Strangler looks to finish it right away as he snaps on a chokehold! The fans rise up, buzzing in anticipation as Strangler prepares to hoist Erek up. He lifts Erek high above, but Erek battles back, delivering a kick to the torso of the Boston Strangler, just barely loosening the behemoth's grip, allowing the High Flying Prince to drop down on Strangler's shoulder. Erek quickly wraps his arm around Strangler's head, and twists into a half circle before driving Strangler's head into the canvas with a tornado DDT!!! Erek piles up, and drags Strangler back up as well before decking him with a hard right. Strangler doesn't fall, and manages to block the next attempt. He rockets a punch forward, and catches Erek by the chin, sending the flyer stumbling back towards the center of the ring. Strangler squares up, and quickly lunges forward a hard clothesline. But Erek eludes the attack, ducking under and spinning around before sending a kick that doubles the giant over! Erek steps forward, and wraps his arm around Strangler's neck. The fans eagerly cheer for the Fame and Fury neckbreaker as Erek begins to twist both Strangler and himself around. But Strangler breaks out, and pushes Erek to the ropes. Erek rebounds, and Strangler hoists the former ICTV Champion in the air, before planting him into the canvas with a tilt-a-whirl driver!

 

"(Mark) OUCH! Erek's Fame and Fury was denied and he payed for it with that devastating tilt a whirl."

 

"(Riley) Come on Strangler, you can do it, I believe in you!"

 

Strangler brings Erek back up, and decks him with a hard right. Strangler ventures forward, swinging and connecting a second punch, a third, a fourth before grabbing hold of Erek's wrist and sending him whipping to the ropes. Erek rebounds, and evades a clothesline attempt by Strangler. The momentum carries the Prince forward, who rebounds off a second time and races in. Erek leaps into the air, hoping to catch Strangler by surprise with the forearm- but Strangler anticipates the manuever. He effortlessly drops down, allowing Erek to dive over him. But the dive doesn't go all the way through, as Strangler is holding tight to Erek's legs. He holds tight, and forcefully pulls Erek down with an unusual but very painful powerbomb!

 

"(Riley) WOW!! Strangler's got it going on!!"

 

The impact shakes the ring, but the two competitors doesn't notice it a bit, both trying to tear the other apart. Strangler, however, has the upper hand and uses it as he drags Erek back up and connects with a headbutt. Erek staggers the other way, leaning against the ropes for balance. Strangler sets up a ladder at the center of the ring, and starts to climb but stops as he realizes Erek can regain his senses at any second. Strangler drops down from the ladder and heads over to his nemesis, and decks him with a hard right! Erek staggers over to the corner, and breaks under the pressure of Strangler's punches. Erek begins to slowly fall, but he refuses to give up, always trying to withstand the fury of the Boston Strangler, only to head into failure's door. Strangler grabs Erek by the wrist, and sends him hurling across the ring. Erek hits the ropes and bounces off. The Prince is flung so hard, he doesn't have anytime to react, giving Strangler an excellent opportunity. Strangler hoists Erek in the air by the neck and waist, gorilla pressing the almost 200 pounder as if he was nothing. Strangler heads over to the edge of the ring before dropping Erek out!! The fan favorite drops into the mat with a sickening thud and Strangler turns around and heads for the ladder.

 

"(Mark) Erek Taylor has been dropped outside while Strangler is starting to go for the briefcase."

 

"(Riley) Yes, Strangler, climb! CLIMB LIKE YOU NEVER CLIMBED BEFORE!!"

 

Strangler climbs, with the crowds following his every move with hateful boos. The High Flying Prince is hanging from the apron, trying ever so desperately to gather himself. He slides into the ring, just as Strangler crosses the midway point of ladder number one. Erek looks to climb as well, and in a panic, sets up ladder number two before he ascends to the top. The two fighters spot each other and begin exchaning rights at the top, endangering both their lives as they ascend higher and higher, both trying to take a piece of the briefcase. Erek climbs faster, and lands one finger on the right side of the briefcase as Strangler circles a grip around the left side of the briefcase. The two eye each other, and begin pulling the briefcase as hard as they can, trying to strip it away from the other man. But seeing that this struggle can't be won, Erek delivers a kick to the gut that doubles the Boston Strangler over.......

 

"(Mark) What's he trying? What's he going to do?!"

 

The audience watches on as Erek leaps off, and wraps his arm around Strangler's neck, and FALLS-

 

 

 

 

DOWN 15 FEET!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DOWN 10 FEET!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DOWN THE LAST 5 FEET!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CRRRAAASSSSHHHHH!!! DDT FROM THE TOP OF THE LADDER!!! BOTH MEN ARE KNOCKED OUT INSTANTANEOUSLY AS THE CROWDS BURSTS INTO COUNTLESS CHEERS!!!

 

 

"(Mark) Oh my god!!!!"

 

 

Erek Taylor and the Boston Strangler are both stunned from the impact, but after a minute or two of heavy breathing, Strangler manages to somehow stagger to his feet first, even after that death defying manuever! He staggers over to the ladder, and begins to climb. Up the first step, up to the second, and straight to the fourth. The Boston Strangler pauses at the halfway point, catching his breath while also scanning the area for any mishaps. The fans are all on their feet, booing their hearts out for the villian as he continues to climb again.

 

"(Mark) This could be it. Strangler's going for the top!"

 

"(Riley) The Fame and Fury didn't even work! Strangler's up!"

 

"(Mark) But here comes Erek!"

 

As Mark pointed out, Erek Taylor slowly rises to his feet. He takes one quick glance at the ladder, and the person who's climbing it. The High Flying Prince scrambles to meet up with Strangler, but isn't strong enough to climb. He teeters the second ladder over and heads towards the ladder that Strangler is on. With both hands pressed against the side, Erek uses all the strength that's left in him.... and pushes.

 

"(Riley) OH NO!!!"

 

The ladder tilts to the side, before it falls in a dramatic scene, sending the Boston Strangler flying out of the ring and crashing to the outside!!

 

"(Mark) AND STRANGLER HAS BEEN SENT FLYING!!"

 

"(Riley) That's just not possible! He's too fat to fly!!"

 

The ladder leans against the third rope, and stays there as Strangler slowly staggers to his feet on the outside. He is barely able to stand, using the announcers' table as support.

 

"(Riley) Hiya Strangler, how you doing?"

 

"(Mark) I don't think this would be a good time to chat, Riley."

 

"(Riley) Why is that?"

 

"(Mark) LOOK!"

 

All attention swings to the ring, where Erek Taylor breaks out into a run. The High Flying Prince uses the ladder as a ramp, racing up the steps before using it as a springboard and launching himself forward!! The XF9er twirls in midair, twisting and spinning and crashing into the Boston Strangler with a corkscrew splash!!!

 

"(Mark) And Erek Taylor nails a corkscrew right in front of our table, barely missing it by mere inches!"

 

"(Riley) Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

 

"(Mark) That's a good thing or we would be sitting here looking like idiots."

 

The arena is explosive and loud, continuing the rich tradition as they watch Erek Taylor stagger to his feet. The High Flying Prince looks to take control, bringing Strangler up and lashing out with a hard chop across the chest.

 

SMACK! .... WHOOOOO!!!

 

Another chop.

 

SMACK! .... WHOOOOO!!!

 

A third chop-

 

SMACK! .... WHOOOOO!!!

 

-before grabbing hold of Strangler's wrist and hurling him forward, right into the barricade that's separating him from thousands of angry fans! They immediately try to get a piece of the Bostonian, but security stands in their way. Erek ventures forward, and swings a right fist, connecting it with Strangler's chin. The High Flying Prince delivers another chop, but Strangler blocks it in the air and retaliates with a haymaker punch, sending Erek staggering back a few feet. Strangler advances in, and goes on the offensive end, relaying punch after punch, every single exchange making Erek dizzier and dizzier. Strangler grabs Erek by the hair, and with no signs of resistance, cannons the Prince into the table.

 

"(Mark) And our table is involved in another encounter yet again!"

 

"(Riley) They must love the wood."

 

"(Mark) Or they must love trying to kill you, Riley."

 

"(Riley) No way. I'm too lovable."

 

"(Mark) Not how your wife says it."

 

Strangler heads around, and drags the timekeeper off his chair. The behemoth snatches the steel chair and folds it up, transforming it from a daily necessity to a deadly weapon. He heads back, measures Erek up, and brings the chair crashing across Erek's body!! Strangler isn't finished, raising the chair up once more time....

 

 

CLANG!!!

 

 

-and brings it down on Erek's head!! The chair shot splits Erek's forehead apart, and the High Flying Prince begins to ooze out blood from his head. Erek crumples to the ground, and Strangler tosses the chair aside to another wave of boos. He doesn't infuriate, ignoring the reaction from the crowds as he slides back into the ring. The M7 behemoth sets up a ladder at the center, and pauses as the crowds break off into chants.

 

"YOU SUCK!"

 

"YOU SUCK!"

 

"YOU SUCK," they say. Something about those words manage to get into Strangler's mind, and it causes him to lose focus. The behemoth turns to face the crowd, screaming at the top of his lungs, denying everything the audience is saying. He starts yelling for quiet, losing track of the match as he is overwhelmed by another wave of "YOU SUCK!"s.

 

"(Riley) He doesn't suck. Mark Stevens sucks."

 

"(Mark) Now you know that isn't true. I totally rock."

 

"(Riley) If you rock, how come you're retired?"

 

"(Mark) How come you're retired?"

 

"(Riley) No no, I'm not retired. I ran away. There's a big difference. I chose to quit."

 

"(Mark) Regardless, Strangler has to regain focus. He's running around like a child in a game of 'is, is not'."

 

The mindless shouting forces Strangler to lose attention, and Erek Taylor slowly struggles to his feet. Strangler continues to shout, but realizes it's useless and heads back up the ladder. He climbs up the first step, straight to the third, up the fifth, and reaches the halfway point. He makes it to the third highest step, and takes a swing at the briefcase- no. One more step up, and Strangler tries again, but still fails to reach the briefcase. Erek panics, and sees Strangler's hand inching closer and closer towards the briefcase. With that, the High Flying Prince races forward and grabs hold of Strangler's ankle, and pulls. But Strangler doesn't let go, using his free leg to kick the Prince off! He continues his climb, and Erek has no choice but to follow on the other side. The High Flying Prince races to meet up with the Boston Strangler, and before long, the two are face to face at the top, both reaching for the briefcase!

 

"(Mark) Erek Taylor and the Boston Strangler. They're both at the top but who's going to take the briefcase?!!?!?!"

 

Strangler tries fighting Erek off with a few punches, but Erek holds on to the ladder. The resilient XF9er continues to reach, and grabs hold of one side of the briefcase. He tries tearing the briefcase away from Strangler's hands, but the Bostonian is just too strong. The struggle seemingly goes on forever, until Strangler snaps on a chokehold that puts both wrestlers at ease! Both rivals let go of the briefcase, and exchange glares as Strangler pushes Erek with all his might, causing the flyer to lose his balance and to fall to the ground below!!!

 

 

.....

 

 

CRAAAASSSHSHHHHHHSHSHS!!!

 

Strangler takes a look at Erek, who withers in pain on the canvas. The High Flying Prince tries struggling back up, but his legs give in and he falls back down. Strangler smiles, drawing countless boos as he reaches up and grabs hold of the briefcase. He begins to unhook it, but Erek Taylor quickly uses his legs and pushes the foot of the ladder. Unable to keep up with the fall, Strangler is forced to jump in the air. He holds on to the briefcase, but is unable to unhook the case!! The Bostonian hangs 20 feet in the air, holding on to the briefcase for all he's worth!!!

 

"(Riley) Is he going to let go?"

 

"(Mark) He didn't even unhook the briefcase!! I don't think the wire can support 300 pounds!!"

 

Erek is apalled, but seeing the Boston Strangler dangling from the air gives him an idea. The High Flying Prince sets up the ladder at the nearest turnbuckle, and starts to climb. He reaches the top in no time, and takes one last breath before launching himself in the air! The Boston Strangler shakes his head in disbelief, but it doesn't stop the action as Erek Taylor flies forward and grabs Strangler by the waist!! Strangler holds on, but he can't hold on much longer. Erek Taylor is desperately trying to pull Strangler off, but the Boston Strangler won't budge. And so, Erek clinches his teeth around Strangler's leg....

 

"(Mark) WHOA!! That was unexpected!!!"

 

The pain shooting through Strangler's leg is enough, and the behemoth lets go of the briefcase before the two fighters plunge towards the ground in one dynamic crash!!!!

 

"(Riley) THAT KID CHEATED!!"

 

The two combatants slowly stagger to their feets, with Strangler limping on one leg as he moves forward and hands Erek a hard jab. The Boston Strangler delivers one more punch before heading to the ropes. He hits the suspenders, and bounces back with force. But Erek anticipates the move, and weasels his way around Strangler's waist. Erek holds on, and hoists the behemoth in the air before driving him into the canvas with a diving spinebuster!!! Erek grabs on to Strangler's legs, placing it in a "T" formation before spinning around and trapping the giant with the inverted Texas Cloverleaf!!! KNOWN TO MOST AS-

 

"(Mark) THE COMET'S TAIL!!! EREK TAYLOR HAS LOCKED IN THE COMET'S TAIL!!!"

 

"(Riley) But he cheated!! You saw it too, Mark. You saw him cheat!"

 

"(Mark) There's no disqualification in this match. I'm afraid it's all legal."

 

"(Riley) NO!!"

 

Erek continues to apply pressure, bringing even more pain to Strangler's legs, forcing the behemoth to grimace and wither in pain. The M7 member starts struggling, resisting Erek's attack. He tries tearing his feet away, but Erek's hold is locked on too tightly. Strangler seeks alternatives, and finally manages to gain the strength to pull Erek down with his legs!! The two fighters rise to their feets, and begin exchanging fierce rights at the middle. Strangler wins the exchange, and begins to back Erek down to the corner, repeating his punches again and again. But Erek doesn't sit back, quickly swinging a clothesline forward in desperation. Strangler scouts it out, and eludes the attack, ducking under before trapping the High Flying Prince with a Full Nelson hold! He hoists Erek up in the air, before driving him into the canvas with an Atomic Drop!! Erek pops up from the impact, and holds his back in pain as Strangler rises back up. The behemoth moves forward, and locks in a sleeper hold. He begins choking the life out of the fan favorite, taking out his windpipe and his air. Erek tries to battle back, but before he can, Strangler pulls Erek down with a sleeper drop!!

 

"(Mark) Strangler manages to gain control of this matchup, but to win you have to climb the ladder, and so far, nobody's done that successfully."

 

"(Riley) What are you talking about? Strangler was hanging on to the briefcase when Erek bit his leg."

 

Strangler drags Erek back up, and with the stroke of the wrist, hurls him across the ring. Erek hits the ropes, and rebounds. The people expect a high impact move, but Strangler denies them all, simply stepping to the side and throwing Erek out of the ring. Erek crashes into the mat, and the fans in the front row are absolutely exuberant. They are so excited to be that close to a SWF superstar, they don't even see the Boston Strangler exiting the ring. The giant walks towards the fallen Erek Taylor, slapping down all the hands of the audience that reaches out. He snarls at them, curses at them, even spits at some of them, knowing that they can't cross over to do anything about it. The Boston Strangler grabs Erek by the hair, and picks him up. The M7 behemoth then slaps on a chokehold, and immediately points to the sky. Strangler hoists Erek up, holding him in the air for awhile before forcefully planting him into the mat with a brutal chokeslam!!!

 

"(Mark) CHOKESLAM!! CHOKESLAM TO THE MAT OUTSIDE!!!"

 

"(Riley) Ouchie moe-wachi!"

 

A sickening thud echoes across the stage, and the fans break into loud a chorus of boos, delivering all the hatred they have in stored in their hearts for the Boston Strangler. And what does the Strangler do?

 

He smiles.

 

That single smile transforms the fans into an angry mob. They boo and they jeer, doing anything to show their emotions out on television. Strangler ignores them, and lifts Erek back up. He snaps another chokehold on, and points to the sky, signaling for a second attack.

 

"(Mark) Strangler is cold. I can't believe he would smile after doing such a thing!"

 

"(Riley) Relax, like you said, it's no disqualification. The old referee by the side can't do a thing."

 

"(Mark) Pfft."

 

Strangler prepares to hoist Erek up, but a sudden burst of energy sends Erek's foot upwards and into Strangler's crotch!! LOW BLOW!! The behemoth releases the hold, allowing Erek to free himself, away from the sadist's grip! The crowds cheer, even more as Erek begins to crawl away from the Boston Strangler.

 

"(Riley) Wait, this looks familiar."

 

"(Mark) You sure?"

 

"(Riley) Yeah, too bad there's no Smarkstron for Erek to fly off this time. Ha!"

 

Erek crawls around the ring, and pulls himself up via the announcers' table. He pants and pants, blood pouring from his head as Strangler staggers to his feet on the other side. The behemoth stumbles around the ring, and quickly floors Erek from behind with a forearm. The High Flying Prince is helpless, and Strangler looks to continue the bloodshed, picking Erek up and decking him with a hard right, sending the XF9er falling on to the paddings of the table.

 

"(Mark) Okay Riley, I think we better get up now."

 

"(Riley) Why?"

 

"(Mark) Because I said so."

 

Strangler grabs hold of Erek's head, and picks the XF9er back up. He measures the flyer up and rears his arm back, before rocketing it forward and flooring Erek Taylor with a tremoring clothesline! Erek grimaces in pain as the Boston Strangler rolls back into the ring.

 

"(Mark) And another hard clothesline by the Boston Strangler."

 

"(Riley) It looks like he's going to get the briefcase now."

 

"(Mark) Looks like it."

 

Strangler limps towards the ladder, the nutshots and the biting still leaving some effects. The behemoth sets the ladder up at the center, and begins to climb. He struggles to get up. Up the first step Strangler goes, then up to the second, then the third. Each time Strangler pulls his leg up, excruciating pain shoots throughout his body, reducing Strangler's speed drastically. The Boston Strangler ascends to the 3/4 point, and tries to reach for the briefcase from there, only to find it still too far away.

 

"(Mark) Come on Erek, get up!"

 

"(Riley) Climb faster, Strangler! You're too god damn slow! That should teach you to lose some weight!"

 

Strangler moves further up the ladder, and tries reaching again- no. Still not high enough. The audience begins to play yet another part in this matchup, beginning to boo, trying to do anything that might force Strangler to fall. But the boos quickly turn to cheers as all their eyes roll to the side, where Erek Taylor struggles to maintain balance. Erek grabs a chair from Funyon, and rolls back into the ring. Scrambling to meet up with Strangler, Erek raises the chair high up, and brings it crashing into Strangler's spine!!

 

CLANG!! Strangler's hands drop down to hold the highest step of the ladder. He holds on as Erek brings the chair swinging one more time...

 

 

CLANG!!

 

 

 

The Boston Strangler doesn't fall, holding on as Erek Taylor heads over to the other side of the ladder. The High Flying Prince climbs, adrenaline rushing through his body as he reaches the step exactly parallel from the Boston Strangler. Erek rears his fist back, and rockets it forward, connecting with Strangler's face. But somehow, Strangler doesn't let go and refuses to fall!! Erek sends another punch rocketing forward, and this time, causes Strangler to lose one of his hands on the ladder. Strangler spins, and faces the audience as Erek ascends upper. The High Flying Prince wraps his arm around Strangler's neck, and pulls on Strangler's arm, trapping the behemoth in a Dragon Sleeper at the peak of the ladder!!!

 

"(Mark) Dragon Sleeper!! Erek Taylor has locked in the Dragon Sleeper on the Boston Strangler!! Not to mention at the top of the ladder!!!"

 

"(Riley) Why doesn't he just reach up and grab the damn briefcase?! It could be all over now but instead, that idiot XF9er goes for a Dragon Sleeper instead. What a fucking moron!"

 

Erek increases the pressure on the Boston Strangler, weakening the huge behemoth with technical skills instead of force. Strangler tries to resist, until it's too late and he starts wailing his hands for a submit.

 

"(Mark) Uh, Strangler, you can't submit in this matchup. It's a ladder match. Now who's a moron?"

 

"(Riley) It's still Erek."

 

Strangler leans against the ladder as Erek releases the hold and reaches up. No. Still too high. The High Flying Prince ascends one more step, and extends his arm for the briefcase. Again, still too high. The crowds are cheering, watching as Erek ascends to the highest step of the ladder. He grabs hold of the briefcase and begins to unhook it.

 

"(Mark) Here we go!! Erek's unhooking the briefcase now!!! STRANGLER IS OUT OF HERE!! YES!!!"

 

"(Riley) NOOOOO!!!! I mean, wait, look!!!"

 

Erek doubles over suddenly, and when the camera pans out, it shows that the Boston Strangler is still very much in this matchup!! Strangler delivers a shot to the gut, then another, and another, doing the thing that appears at the top of his head. He delivers another punch to the gut, hoping to force Erek off the ladder, but Erek holds on. Strangler finally retreats from his initial plan, and ascends to the top. He slaps on a front facelock before cinching Erek's waist. And in one of the most dramatic moments, the Boston Strangler hoists Erek up into a vertical position before rendering a quick fall backwards. Off the ladder, falling down 15 feet into a superplex!!!!!

 

"(Mark) WHOA!!! SUPERPLEX OFF THE TOP OF THE LADDER!!"

 

"(Riley) Well, at least Erek didn't win."

 

"(Mark) THE BOSTON STRANGLER SACRIFICED HIMSELF TO PULL EREK AWAY FROM VICTORY!!! WHAT A DARING MOVE!!!"

 

"(Riley) You might even say it was.... legendary....."

 

"(Mark) Let's not get carried away now."

 

"(Riley) Why isn't it? The Boston Strangler definetly has the qualifications. Do I sense some jealousy in you?"

 

"(Mark) Let's just call the match, alright?"

 

"(Riley) Fine. Be that way."

 

After minutes of waiting, the Boston Strangler begins to show signs of movement, but so does Erek Taylor!! The two combatants crawl to the edge of the ring, and both uses the ropes to pull themselves back up on their feet. They are barely able to stand, let alone fight. But neither backs down from the challenge, as Strangler limps over and swings a right clothesline. Erek ducks under, and delivers a kick that doubles the Boston Strangler over. With that, the High Flying Prince steps forward, and wraps his arm around Strangler's head before twisting him around. Holding on to Strangler's neck, Erek pulls it down, and crashes it into his shoulder with the sitout neckbreaker!!! FAME AND FURY!!!! The arena explodes, and watches as the impact sends Strangler popping back up!!! Shocked in disbelief, they watch as Strangler snarls.

 

"(Mark) WHOA!! I can't believe he got up so soon!!!"

 

"(Riley) YES!! I TOLD YOU THE BOSTON STRANGLER WAS THAT TOUGH!! HE JUST NO-SOLD THE FAME AND FURY!!!"

 

Erek is in disbelief, but as moments passes, Strangler slowly feels his legs give in, but is ready, and catches the ropes to hold himself up!!

 

"(Mark) You have got to be kidding me!!!"

 

Strangler tries to walk, but his legs are too weak and ends up falling back down. Erek Taylor encounters the same predicament, also falling to the canvas. But both fighters don't back down, as they recooperate long enough to fight.

 

"(Mark) I can't believe that they're both still breathing!"

 

"(Riley) Yeah, I can understand Strangler because he's the toughest, but Erek? That puny thing? He can't go on!"

 

"(Mark) Well regardless of what you say, it doesn't change the fact that Erek is still up."

 

"(Riley) Hanging from the ropes."

 

"(Mark) So is Strangler."

 

"(Riley) Totally different scenario. Strangler just got the Fame and Fury. Erek didn't."

 

The two combatants stagger towards each other, but Erek gets the first hit, an overhand punch that stumbles Strangler on to the apron. Strangler rises, and Erek limps forward with another punch, connecting and sending Strangler crashing down to the mat below. The Boston Strangler heavily breathes, and sneaks a chair from under the ring. He tightens his grip on the cold steel, embracing it as if it were Excalibur. The Boston Strangler watches as Erek Taylor races to the ropes. The High Flying Prince rebounds, and races up before vaulting himself up into the air.....

 

 

 

right....

 

 

 

into.....

 

 

 

CLANG!!!

 

....NOTHING!! Strangler swings the mighty chair, connecting it with Erek's head in midair!! The Prince falls to the ground, and Strangler drops to his knee at the side. The camera zooms in on the chair, which has blood stains all over it. Erek's blood.

 

"(Mark) WHOA!!! MID AIR CHAIR SHOT!!!"

 

"(Riley) You know what makes that so great?"

 

"(Mark) No. What?"

 

"(Riley) Strangler did it. Yes, that's right. Strangler did it."

 

The audience is in awe, and can't expect anything more. But somehow, someway, the audience is wrong. Strangler staggers to his feet, and brings the limp Erek up as well. He swings a hard right, but a sudden burst from Erek blocks the punch! Erek battles back, throwing quick rights that doesn't inflict that much damage. But because of the fatigue setting in, each punch is like a brick! Erek delivers a second punch, a third, a fourth, trying ever so desperately to fight with all his heart. He delivers a kick to Strangler's gut, doubling the giant over. Erek steps forward and wraps his arm around Strangler's neck, immediately signaling for another Fame and Fury!!! Erek begins to spin, but Strangler breaks free and shoves the High Flying Prince right into the steel stairs, knocking the steel out of proportion!!!

 

"(Mark) My god, can you hear the sounds of bone crashing against steel?"

 

"(Riley) Yes, and isn't it ever so satisfying?"

 

"(Mark) No, never! Unless it's your body against it."

 

Concluded in the following post...

[Guest BA_Baracus]

Strangler leads Erek forward, and with his hand pressed against Erek's head, slides the High Flying Prince back into the ring. Strangler enters the ring, and folds the ladder up, and places it against a turnbuckle. He goes to the second ladder in the ring, and leans it against the opposite turnbuckle. Erek Taylor is helplessly hanging around as Strangler drags him back up. Grabbing hold of his wrist, Strangler sends Erek Taylor whipping into the turnbuckle, hard!! Erek staggers forward, arching his back in pain as Strangler lends him a hand, rocketing the head of the High Flying Prince into the second ladder!!! The crowds boo, and rightfully so as Strangler hoists Erek up by the side and walks to the center of the ring. Strangler takes one moment to breathe, and renders a quick fall backwards, flipping Erek up and planting him into the ladder with a fallaway slam!!! The sight of Erek Taylor's back crashing into the unforgiving steel rungs of the ladder is unbearable. But there's no censors, and so, the match continues. Strangler rises up, and hoists Erek back up again. He walks towards the center of the ring, and flips Erek up.... delivering a second fallaway slam into the opposite ladder!!!!

 

"(Riley) Now that's gotta hurt!"

 

"(Mark) Doesn't it? Doesn't it?!"

 

Strangler exits the ring, and throws the apron up again, looking under before pulling out a table!!! He slides the table in, and then looks under the ring again before pulling out yet another steel chair!!! He tosses that in as well.

 

"(Mark) More weaponry? Strangler, what is in your sick and sadistic mind now?"

 

"(Riley) Easy, it's Erek body crashing through the table."

 

"(Mark) I hate to agree with you, but I think you might be right."

 

Strangler continues to look for more items as Erek staggers to his feet on the inside, barely able to stand. He limps around as Strangler gives up his search and slides back in. And just as that happens, Erek Taylor, with pure instinct, races forward and delivers a dropkick that pummels Strangler to the ropes. Erek staggers back up, but not fast enough as Strangler swings and connects a hard right! Strangler advances in, and connects with another hard right hand. He swings and connects a third punch, a fourth one that floors the High Flying Prince. Erek Taylor struggles to his feet, blind to the fact that Strangler has now picked up the steel chair.

 

"(Mark) Uh oh. Erek, you better look out!!"

 

"(Riley) I think the video had me saying it, but I'll say it again. The Boston Strangler, the man to end Erek Taylor's career!!!!"

 

Strangler raises the chair up, and waits as Erek staggers up. Erek slowly turns, and almost instantaneously, Strangler swings the chair- YES! Erek quickly delivers a kick, forcing Strangler to drop the chair and double over. Erek steps forward and wraps his arm around Strangler's neck, and with the chair just in the right position, pulls the head of the huge Bostonian down.... driving it into the steel chair with a devastating DDT!!!

 

The crowd explodes!!!

 

"(Mark) DDT!!! What were you saying, Strangler?"

 

"(Riley) Oh shut up."

 

Erek piles back on his feet, and surprisingly, so does the Boston Strangler! Strangler stands there, eyes glaring at Erek Taylor as he picks up the steel chair. Erek takes the chair, and raises it high before swinging it across, crashing it into Strangler's head!!

 

CLANG!!

 

NO! Strangler doesn't fall!! He gets knocked back only inches!! Erek takes another swing!!!

 

CLANG!!

 

STILL!! THE BOSTONIAN WON'T BUDGE!! Erek won't give up, taking another swing-

 

CLANG!

 

-and another swing.

 

CLANG!

 

A fourth swing.

 

CLANG!

 

A fifth swing.

 

"(Riley) YES! LOOK AT THAT MARK STEVENS!! THE BOSTON STRANGLER IS SHOWING YOU HOW IT'S DONE!!"

 

BUT STILL! STRANGLER DOESN'T FALL!! THE BOSTONIAN SHAKES HIS HEAD, ALMOST SHOWING THAT HE'S INVULNERABLE!!! Erek Taylor smiles back at the Boston Strangler before holding the chair by the thin side. He continues to smile, and brings the chair's feet racing upwards-

 

 

WHAM!!!

 

 

-RIGHT INTO THE BOSTON STRANGLER'S CROTCH!!! THE ARENA EXPLODES FOR THE GOD KNOWS WHEN TIME!! Strangler drops to the ground, aching in pain as he tends to his testies. He slams his fist into the canvas, trying desperately to do anything that might relieve him of this ache.

 

"(Mark) HAHA!! What were you saying, Riley?"

 

"(Riley) He cheated!! Chair shots to the gut?! NO WAY!!!"

 

"(Mark) Well, we just saw it with our own eyes. You saw it, I saw it, the entire Pepsi Center saw it."

 

Strangler lies in a broken mess, barely able to breathe after the preceding attack. He is helpless as Erek Taylor staggers inside the ring, retrieving both of the two ladders that has entered play. The High Flying Prince positions both ladders parallel to each other, then heads over to the table that was brought in earlier. He uses all his might to lift it up, and actually places the edges OVER the ladders!!! The resulting image is a table on top of two ladders!!!!!

 

"(Mark) WHOA!!! He's seriously not going to do what I think he is? Is he?"

 

"(Riley) It's Erek. What do you think?"

 

"(Mark) I have absolutely no idea."

 

"(Riley) Same here."

 

"(Mark) Yeah, but I'm not going to talk about it because if Strangler wants to win, he's going to have to do everything he can to get up and up!"

 

Erek staggers over to the ladder nearest the announcers' table, and begins to climb. Each step brings more and more pain through his body. But Erek sucks it up, and continues to climb. He reaches the halfway point after enduring a hefty amount of pain.

 

"(Mark) Come on Erek. Climb that ladder!! Everything you've got!!!"

 

"(Riley) How? How? How?"

 

Erek finally reaches the peak of the two ladders, and touches the edge of the table that has been placed there for purposes unknown. Is he going to jump off? Is he going to break it? Who knows! Erek piles up, and stands tall on the table!! The crowds break into chants of "Erek! Erek!" as the fighter corresponding to that name slowly moves over to the briefcase, which lies only a feet above his head.

 

"(Riley) WAIT!!! COME ON STRANGLER!! STRANGLER'S UP!!!"

 

"(Mark) No way!"

 

Strangler, filled with adrenaline, rushes up the ladder, ignoring all the bruises, all the blood, all the pain that's on him. He reaches the top, just as Erek is unhooking the briefcase! Strangler sneaks up behind Erek Taylor, and with his fingers grinded into a fist, drives it up into an uppercut, right into Erek's groin!!!

 

"(Crowds) OOOOOOOOOH!!!!!!!!!!"

 

Erek grimaces in pain, slumping over as he tends to his family jewels!! The fans are in shock, in disbelief, even more so as Strangler rises to his 6'9 height! Strangler slaps on a chokehold, and hoists Erek up in to the air!! With no support beams, the table begins to give in, but Strangler doesn't care. He just throws Erek down with all his strength, all the way down into a chokeslam from the top!!!!!

 

 

CRAAAAAASSSSHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

 

"(Mark) HOLY-

 

"(Riley) -SHIT!!!"

 

The audience is appalled!! Erek Taylor falls victim to the chokeslam from the top!!! The Boston Strangler is free, and he holds the briefcase and lifts it off the metal hook. But something's not right. He looks down, and sees the cracks in the table. His 300 pound frame is too heavy, and Strangler rushes to unhook the briefcase.

 

CRAAACKKKKK!!!!

 

The table breaks apart, and Strangler falls!!!

 

 

 

ALL....

 

 

 

THE....

 

 

 

WAY....

 

 

 

 

DOWN!!!!

 

 

 

CRAAAASSSSHHHHHH!!!!!!

 

 

 

THE IMPACT SHAKES THE RING AS STRANGLER LANDS ON HIS STOMACH!!! THE AUDIENCE IS IN SHOCK! THE CAMERA IS SHAKING! ALL EYES PEEL ON THE RING!!!

 

"(Mark) OOOOOHH!!! The table breaks and Strangler falls!!!!"

 

"(Riley) But wait, did he get the briefcase?"

 

The referee slides into the ring to check. He looks up, and finds no briefcase. Slowly, he rolls the Boston Strangler, and in the behemoth's grip: the briefcase.

 

***DING DING DING!!!***

 

"(Funyon) The winner of this match.... THE! BOSTON!! STRANGLER!!!!"

 

"Burn to Burn" plays in a hateful manner, and Strangler is helped up on his feet. He looks at the briefcase in his hand, and he smiles. He looks to the side, where a broken Erek Taylor lies. The Boston Strangler shoves the referee aside and goes over to his nemesis, beginning to yell and laugh at the flyer!!

 

"(Mark) Oh come on! You won the match! Now get out!!"

 

"(Riley) Hey! Don't take away his satisfaction!"

 

Strangler drags Erek back up, and with the briefcase, swings it across the flyer's head!!! THUD!!! EREK DROPS LIKE A BAG OF STONES!!! THE BOSTON STRANGLER LAUGHS!!!

 

The crowds go beserk, hateful in all aspects as Strangler goes for another swing at the downed Erek- but before he can, cheers sprout from the riot. Two figures dashes down the ramp, but Strangler spots them, and slides out of the ring.

 

"(Mark) THAT'S RENEGADE! AND THAT'S LDP!!"

 

"(Riley) Too little too late, eh, XF9?"

 

LDP and Renegade slide into the ring, and immediately scramble over to the downed Erek Taylor. They help the fallen flyer up, and watches as Strangler retreats to the back, a smile on his sadistic face!! He holds the briefcase high up, and rejoices in celebration.

 

"(Mark) Will someone take that idiot away? Get Strangler out of the set!"

 

"(Riley) Why? He won!"

 

LDP and Renegade helps Erek up and out of the ring, straight up the ramp as the audience begins to applaud. The XF9ers disappear into the black, and like the introduction said:

 

"One life will be changed forever."

 

And it has.

 

 

 

"The End??"

[Guest BA_Baracus]

Denver’s Pepsi Center is abuzz with anticipation. Coming off the amazing emotional highs of the hardcore title and retirement matches, it seems that nothing could conceivably top them…nothing, of course, except for this.

 

The arena lights drop out, and…

 

“I am the king of this city, windows down, top down…”

 

The opening beats of “Summer in the City” courses through the cool arena air, and the fans burst into boos as if on cue. “Ladies and gentlemen,” shouts Mark Stevens, “the Apocalypse has arrived!” The entrance ramp slowly fills with fog as lights flash in time with the beats, and cutting through the crowd like a scythe comes the figure of Chris Wilson, black trenchcoat swinging over black tank-top and cargo pants. “We’ve reached our main event, and we are about to see the final battle in this war! A veritable Yorktown! A Waterloo! An epic!”

 

“The following contest is scheduled for one fall,” booms Funyon, “and it is a no-disqualification, no-interference match-up for the SWF World Heavyweight Title. Entering first, hailing from Miami, Florida, and weighing 273 pounds, he is the current Intercontinental Television Champion and the leader of the Magnificent Seven…he is the challenger tonight, and he is Chriiiiiiiis Willlllsoooooooon!” The boos reach a peak as Wilson leaves the fog in his dust, mockingly waving to the crowd and swinging the ICTV title about as he makes his way to ringside, the security personnel standing by parting so that he may pass.

 

“That’s my boy!” shouts Bobby Riley. “And tonight is his night! Chris Wilson’s come through hell and high water to get here, and tonight, Edwin MacPhisto finally gets what’s coming to him?”

 

“Come on, Riley, you don’t buy into that hogwash, do you? About Edwin’s ‘cheap wins?’ First Edwin MacPhisto won at Snake Eyes, and then he beats Wilson on Storm a few weeks ago, and yet you’re not happy?”

 

“Not at all!” retorts everyone’s favorite color man, as Wilson slides into the ring, passing his coat off to the ref. “Wilson took the duke at Ground Zero’s Wargames, and has had the upperhand on Edwin and the Carnies ever since! He’s got the momentum coming into tonight, and the chance to finally get that title back, one year after the first time he won it!”

 

“Well, I don’t agree with your logic, Bobby,” answers Stevens, as Wilson runs the ropes, “but one thing’s for sure—tonight’s victory, whoever scores it, is going to be decisive! This match is no-disqualifications, but also no-interference, and those two dozen security personnel loosely spread around the ring are going to make sure of that!”

 

“What, you mean they’re going to hit them with chairs and stuff?”

 

“The no-interference part, Bobby! God! No one’s even going to bother to come to ringside—there’s no way they’re getting through. This is mano-e-mano tonight, one on one, for the biggest prize in the land. If Edwin wins tonight, Wilson can’t complain any longer. If Wilson wins tonight…well, then god help us all. He’ll be gloating for years.” Wilson takes his place in the ring, tapping his boot…

 

…when the lights fall out again. A roar rises out of the crowd as the Smarktron illuminates with the customary grey silhouettes, and as the light opening beat of “Battleflag” drops in, the voice of the fed’s premiere British import floats out of the speakers…

 

“This Apocalypse is fab, ladies and gentlemen! Bomb shelters, retirements, and hardcore-a-go-go, oh my! But now, we’ve reached the end of our strange little trip, the one that we all started together a few hours ago tonight, and the one that I started over a year ago and just happened to pick up a few months back. Chris Wilson, you’ve whined, you’ve dined, you’ve enemy mined, and let it all be told—you want it one-on-one? You want your clean victory, or you want to see me pull out a ‘legit’ triumph over your silly bastard self? Well then, come on down, Chrissy Stardust, cause the devil’s in town, and he’s about to take you from station to station to station, kicking your arse every step of the way-shun! Hallelujah, bitch—the Apocalypse is now!”

 

“I said hallelujah!”

 

And with an uproarious explosion of sparkling red and gold pyro, the vocals to “Battleflag” drop in, and Edwin MacPhisto saunters out onto the entrance staging, hopping and calling for the crowd’s applause, getting the entire arena revved up! “And his opponent,” bellows Funyon, “hailing from Amsterdam, England, and weighing in at 239 pounds…he is the leader of the Midnight Carnival, and YOUR S-W-F World Heavyweight Champion…Edwin MacPhistOOOOO!” The arena explodes and fans try to leap the barrier for a taste of their Carnie hero, but the security guards show their stuff and hold them back as Edwin approaches, red vinyl coat swinging!

 

“The Mac Daddy’s ready to put on a show!” shouts Stevens. “Edwin’s been at wit’s end lately, but tonight he has a chance to eliminate one of his many stressors, and that stressor is named Chris Wilson! Both men we’ll be pulling out all the stops, and that’s a damn promise!” Edwin climbs into the ring, hopping a few circles around Wilson before shaking off his coat and handing it to the referee along with the title belt. The ref briefly explains the rules to the two competitors, and with a raise of the world title, he motions to the timekeeper…

 

DING DING DING

 

The opening bell sounds, and the crowd’s riotous applause edges towards explosiveness. “The final page in this story gets written tonight, ladies and gentlemen, but how does it end?” wonders Mark Stevens. “Does the hero finally ward off his nemesis--”

 

“Or does the mastermind come out on top, leaving the hero crumbled in his wake like so much blue cheese?” Riley posits his own special analogy as the two long-standing rivals circle up in the ring, neither man willing to commit, neither man willing to make the first move against an opponent who knows every trick in the book, who knows every textbook maneuver, who knows every characteristic attack. The fans’ chants reach a fever pitch, drawing the attention of a grinning world champion:

 

“MAC-PHIST-OOOOO!”

 

“MAC-PHIST-OOOOO!”

 

Edwin MacPhisto turns to the fans…and suddenly Chris Wilson blitzes forward, looking to take the Mac Daddy down unawares…and getting an arm drag for his troubles! Edwin whips Wilson around and to the mat, and the mastermind is back on his feet, this time barreling ahead with a rising clothesline…and plummeting to the canvas as Edwin snares his leg in a drop toehold! Wilson hits the mat and Edwin prances around, shadowboxing and feeding off the crowd as the Magnificent Seven’s commandant clambers to his feet. “Edwin starts off with a couple of slick technical counters,” says Stevens. “Wilson went for the first strike, and Edwin was able to react. For two guys who know each other so well, inside the ring and out, it’s going to be hard to find an attack that’ll actually penetrate the other man’s defenses!”

 

“That’s where the no-disqualification stipulation comes in!” retorts Riley, as Wilson brushes himself off, sizing up Edwin and ignoring the Mac Daddy’s bold ‘come get some’ gesture. “These two can chain wrestle and reverse each other all night long, but when someone introduces a chair, a pipe, a strand of piano wire”-- Riley lingers on the last rumination, relishing the thought—“the playing field becomes entirely different!” In the ring, Chris Wilson throws a hard jab at Edwin, and the Mac Daddy jukes away. Wilson stomps forward and swings a pair of heavy haymakers, but Edwin ducks and counters with a light palm strike to the chest. The crowd roars again as Edwin dances back to the ropes, pointing at Wilson and then engaging in all sorts of vulgar pantomime to some heavy laughter.

 

“Edwin’s got some zip in his step tonight! This is a bit of the old dog we’re used to seeing!” smiles Stevens. “I’d like to think my little pep talk helped turn him around from all this doom and gloom, but I don’t want to take the credit…”

 

“Credit-taker!”

 

“I just said--”

 

“Nyaaaaaah!”

 

In the ring, Edwin saunters forward, juking and jiving a little, feigning some slaps and strikes in Wilson’s general direction, causing the frustrated but alert evil genius to dodge backward with every swipe. Edwin starts to pick up forward momentum, putting more and more weight behind his strikes, and the fans take notice, breaking into a cheer as Edwin gradually storms forward, overtakes Wilson…and swings a knife-edge chop right into his chest! Edwin rears back for a second…and Wilson ducks under the second chop, diving under the arm with the go-behind and taking Edwin into a rear waistlock! The fans roar disapproval as Wilson starts to snap Edwin back, but the champ fires out his right leg and grapevines Wilson’s own, stalling the German suplex and buying himself some time. Edwin fires backward with an elbow to Wilson’s left temple, then connects a second, and rather than stay on and take any prolonged measure of punishment, Wilson releases the waistlock, gives Edwin a shove in the back…and bails out to ringside! “Wilson’s not wasting any time!” shouts Stevens, as the master manipulator makes his way to Funyon’s station to secure a chair, scattering the security personnel around the ring. “A few setbacks in the opening exchanges have sent him scurrying from any semblance of actual wrestling--”

 

“Oh, come off it, Mark!” scolds Bobby Riley. “It’s a no-DQ match! This is perfectly legal!”

 

“But the fans don’t want to see garbage--”

 

“Then what DO they want to see, smart guy?

 

Stevens looks toward the ring as Wilson turns back to the apron, chair in hand. “That!” And the fans in the arena pop funky-monkey as Edwin MacPhisto sails through the 2nd and 3rd ropes and crashes down into Chris Wilson with a blazing tope suicida! The chair clatters out of Wilson’s hands and both men hit the thin ringside mat, Wilson taking the brunt of the collision! The fans are on their feet with some early applause as Edwin climbs back to his feet, shaking off some of the shock of the impact as he gives a big thumbs-up, then pulls Wilson up by the back of the neck. Edwin takes Wilson’s head on a quick road trip to Ringpost Country, and after a satisfying clang, the Mac Daddy rolls his nemesis back into the ring! “Smart move from Edwin MacPhisto—he’s keeping Chris Wilson away from outside implements of destruction, keeping him in the wrestling ring where he’s already beaten him twice before!”

 

“Yeah, with a roll-up, and with a double-team from Thoth!”

 

“Don’t you start on that too! Those were respectable wins, and Edwin’s wise to keep the no-DQ element out of this match--”

 

“—because Wilson handed the Carnival their collective ass in the brutal confines of Wargames, and because one year ago at this very show, Chris Wilson beat YOU for YOUR world title in a no-disqualification match?” The low blow to Mark’s ego resonates.

 

“Yes, Riley. You could say that.” In the ring, Edwin pulls a dizzied Wilson up and pops and elbow into his jaw, then bounces off the ropes, bolts back to center stage…and clobbers Chris Wilson with a stiff clothesline, dropping him to the mat. The Mac Daddy loops back around and pulls Wilson up into an armbar, torquing the left shoulder and gradually transitioning to a hammerlock. Wilson tries to thrash out, but with one arm secure, Edwin easily takes him into a rear waistlock, then pulls backward and brings Chris Wilson up over his head in a solid German suplex, bridging Wilson’s shoulders to the mat for a pin! “First fall of the match!” The ref dives in…

 

ONE!

 

TWO—and Wilson kicks out of the bridge with little trouble. “Edwin only got that 2-count because of the illegal nerve hold he was using just a second ago! I know this is no-DQ, but I can’t believe the ref let THAT slide!” disputes Riley.

 

“…you mean the hammerlock, Bobby?”

 

“In Latin, hammerlock means ‘infinite pain’!”

“No…no, it doesn’t at--”

 

“Shhh! Mark, can’t you see there’s a match going on here?” Stevens responds with a sigh as Edwin MacPhisto pulls Chris Wilson up and whips him across the ring, charging to meet him with a running shotei…that Wilson avoids by dropping into a smooth front roll on the rebound!

 

“Uncharacteristic moment of agility from the technical brawler Wilson—can he capitalize?” Edwin tries to skid to a stop but can’t brake before the ropes, and as he turns, the steps of a man 40 pounds his senior thunder towards him. The crowd boos…and Chris Wilson topples Edwin MacPhisto over the top rope with a clothesline! Edwin bounces off the apron and lands outside the ring, and Wilson steps forward to pursue, but Edwin shoots up off the ground and snags Wilson’s foot, tripping him up and sending him down backfirst to the mat. In a flash, Edwin scrambles up the apron, grabs the top rope, and hastily pulls himself over in a slingshot legdrop right over Wilson’s chest! Edwin drags Wilson away from the ropes and hooks the leg as the crowd cheers…

 

ONE!—kickout! “Edwin’s going to any lengths necessary to keep Wilson in the ring, even going for an early slingshot legdrop like we just saw…”

 

“He got lucky, Mark! L-U-C-K-Y! A few more risks like that, and Edwin’s sure to fail at least once!” The Mac Daddy gets to his feet and drags Wilson up to meet him—and Wilson immediately lashes out with an eye rake, blinding the Mac Daddy and staggering him backwards! Wilson spins and hits a rude backhand slap across Edwin’s chest, pops him with a punch, and then dashes back into the ropes, picking up momentum to barrel forward and blast the champ out of his boots with a big-time clothesline! Edwin falls like a dumpster full of puroresu wrestlers and Wilson covers with a lateral press while Edwin tries to fight through…

 

ONE!

 

TWO—and a squirming Edwin worms Wilson’s arm off of him, only having time to snag one deep breath before Wilson violently yanks him off the canvas and whips him ropeward. Edwin bounces back and Wilson responds with another big clothesline, but this time Edwin ducks! The champ runs the ropes to a pop, and Wilson throws his arm out for another clothesline. Edwin moves to duck…and Wilson suddenly pulls his arm in and leaps, blasting Edwin full-on with a huge flying knee! “Rim Rocka! Rim Rocka!” shouts Riley, as the Mac Daddy collapses. “Edwin just got his…uh…rims rocked!” Wilson hooks the leg this time, going for a tight cover.

 

ONE!

 

Edwin shakes out the butterflies dancing around his head…

 

TWO—and comes to and kicks out! “Smart fake-out from Wilson, but not enough to win that title. It’ll take more than a flying knee to take down the world champion--”

 

“How about five of them?”

 

“Uh…”

 

“Six?”

 

“Well…”

 

“Seven! Come on Mark, seven!” As Riley babbles numbers, Wilson pulls Edwin up again, this time bending down his charge to lace a double underhook. Wilson grits his teeth and lets out a grunt as he lifts Edwin…and falls backward, drilling him with a solid double-arm DDT! The crowd boos as Edwin clutches at his skull, but instead of covering, Wilson just grins with satisfaction…and rolls out of the ring! “Attaboy, Wilson! If at first you don’t succeed, chair, chair again!” The mastermind and no-DQ veteran returns to ringside and re-acquires his steel chair, coming back around and diving into the ring with it. The fans start to murmur as Wilson comes to stand over Edwin, raising the chair just as Edwin comes to his senses…and throws his forearm upward to drill Chris Wilson with a nasty low blow! The crowd pops big as Wilson drops the chair and clutches at his groin, and Edwin quickly scrambles to his feet, hooks a front facelock on his defenseless adversary, and then falls backward, drilling Wilson with a DDT of his own!

 

“Watch out, Wilson!” bellows Stevens. “If you try to get dirty with Edwin, he’ll get dirty with you!” The fans are on their feet and the arena is swelling with a solid “NO BALLS” chant as Wilson writhes.

 

“Why is it okay, say, for Edwin to hit a low blow,” queries Riley, “but not okay for Wilson to--”

 

“Edwin was juuuust defending himself, Bobby,” laughs Mark. “Besides, the verdict’s in—for the second time, Edwin’s stopped Wilson’s quest towards ultra-violence short! Our champ puts the ‘no’ in ‘no-DQ’!” Mid-ring, the ref doesn’t bother to start a ten-count due to the match rules, and within a few seconds, Edwin is back up, not as drained as recently head-dropped Wilson. The Mac Daddy comes back around and pulls Wilson up to a sitting position, his head still wobbling with dizziness. Edwin backs up, dashes forward, and leaps, throwing out his foot and clipping Wilson with an enzuigiri! “Great roundhouse to the back of head!” cries Stevens, as Wilson slumps forward. Taking advantage of the daze, Edwin dives in and cradles Wilson for the cover, and the mastermind immediately begins kicking in a panic! “Tight cover after two headshots! Can Wilson escape?” The crowd roars…

 

ONE!

TWO!

T-and Wilson explodes outward, caught off-guard but not taken out! Wilson sits up under his own power after shoving Edwin away and shakes out his head, turning to see Edwin coming back with another back brain kick. Wilson falls back to the mat and Edwin hops over him, and as the Mac Daddy lands, Wilson springs up off the mat and sends a shoulder block into the back of Edwin’s knees, toppling the champ in a messy heap! Edwin hits the mat and an enraged Wilson immediately rolls over and gets his hands around Edwin’s throat, pumping his fingers and violently choking the champ out! “Vastly illegal choke from Wilson--”

 

“—and nothing the ref can do about it! Justice at last!” cackles Riley. “Wilson can play the no-DQ game, with or without a chair. With or without a chair…ohh, with or without chair, I can’t liiiiiiiive…”

 

“Stop. Please, god, stop.” As Riley croons best he can, Wilson keeps choking the champion. The ref thinks about trying to break the hold when he realizes it’s been ten counts, but he resists, remembering the stip. Wilson soon does it for him, pulling Edwin up and pumping his neck in a rear chinlock a few times before dragging him to his feet, snaking a hand under Edwin’s leg, and lifting him uuuuuuup…and dropping him doooooown with a spine-shattering back suplex! Edwin folds up like a particularly foldy accordion, and Wilson leaves him laying as he goes for his chair one more time! “Wilson’s got the chair in the ring, and this time it looks like he’s going to get a chance to use it!” worries Stevens. The mastermind grabs the chair and swings back around, lifting the chair up above as he comes back to the prone Edwin, swinging it down…and meeting resistance as Edwin gets both his boots up and elevated to meet the chair, stopping the forward momentum and shoving backwards to send Wilson staggering off-balance! The Mac Daddy scrambles to his feet as fast as he can, hoping to—

 

CRACK!

 

--and Wilson comes back around with a huge swinging chairshot to the head, sending Edwin down hard! “Wilson got it!” cackles Riley! “He got the chairshot he’s been looking for! But you know, Mark…”

 

“Don’t do it…”

 

“He stilllllll hasn’t fouuuuund what he’s looking for!”

 

“Blarrr…” The fans boo as Wilson raises the roof with the chair, mocking Edwin’s pantomimes and exaggerated comic gestures before lifting the steel high again, swinging down…and meeting nothing but mat, as Edwin rolls away at the last second! “Edwin had enough resolve to dodge that second shot—dragon screw, dragon screw legwhip! Edwin takes it technical and takes Wilson down yet again!” roars Stevens. The crowd pops as the Mac Daddy snakes Wilson’s left leg and topples him in a tangle, starting to wrench back with an elevated half-crab—

 

CLAAAAAANG!

 

--but Wilson holds onto the chair and quickly pastes steel across the back of Edwin’s skull! Edwin falls away and Wilson gets to his right knee, shaking Edwin’s now-loose grip off his left as he climbs to full height. Wilson brings the chair up, tilts it…and brings the edge down sharply across Edwin’s neck! The boos in the Pepsi Center rise up as Wilson gives Edwin a kick in the head, then moves for the nearest corner. “Dammit, Wilson! You could paralyze Edwin if you keep that up!”

 

“He’s doing what any good wrestler does, Mark—build to his finisher! The Platinum Nightmare, the Finishing Touches—all based on the neck! A few more shots, and our new champion will be as good as ready!” Wilson takes the folded chair and wedges its edge between the second and third ropes, creating a veritable wall of steel in the corner. The mastermind gives it a kick and it stays in place, drawing a grin from him as he returns to Edwin, up on his knees now. The Mac Daddy tries to fight Wilson off with a rising shotei, but Wilson snares the incoming arm and counters with a big haymaker, dropping Edwin right into his arms. Wilson gets set for the whip and launches Edwin towards the corner…then falls to the mat, snaring his leg in a drop toehold! Another solid CLANG echoes out as Edwin faceplants right into the chair! The Mac Daddy crawls up to the corner and turns around, getting ready to defend himself, but Wilson as soon as he turns he finds his back meeting steel as Wilson follows up with a powerful Stinger Splash!

 

“Chris Wilson’s using that chair to methodically take apart Edwin MacPhisto,” murmurs Stevens, “and if he keeps this up…” Stevens trails off as Edwin slumps to the mat. Wilson backs off again and gives a big smirk to the jeering fans…and then dashes forward, leaping and driving his boots right into Edwin’s face! The back of Edwin’s skull crashes into the steel again and again as Wilson grabs the ropes and pumps away with his feet!

 

“Head trauma! Now THAT’S world champion material!” cackles Riley, as Wilson ceases the assault, drags a limp Edwin up out of the corner, and extends his hand to mockingly absorb the boos of the crowd. The methodical mastermind tosses Edwin to the center of the ring, then dives in for the lateral press! “Cover! Edwin’s been decimated with chairshots—new champ!” squeals Riley. The ref drops down!

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THR—no, Edwin throws his shoulder up to a big cheer, only for Chris Wilson to shove it back down to the mat!

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

Kickout! Edwin thrashes out of the cover with all the strength he’s got, and Wilson kneels over him, jawing at the ref for the *obviously* slow count. “Edwin survived that,” notes Stevens, “but how much more can he take? Look, Riley—he’s already been busted open!” Indeed, Wilson’s corner assault has opened a slight gash on Edwin’s forehead, and a few drizzles of blood mingle with his red hair, dying the silver streaks back to their ‘natural’ color. The Mac Daddy pushes up to his knees as Wilson jaws with the ref—

 

CRACK!

 

--and Edwin goes right back down as Wilson scores another chairshot! The manipulator grabs the referee by his lapels with his free hand and shouts “Fine! Let’s see you slow count this!” As Edwin crumples and struggles to get up, Wilson moves for the corner, still holding the chair as he climbs to the first rope, then the second. He balances carefully, raising the chair up over his head as Edwin gets back to his feet, taking his time, shaking out the cobwebs, oblivious to the frantic shouts of the fans warning him against the impending steely danger…

 

“Stay down, Edwin, stay down!” shouts Stevens. “Wilson’s going to take his head off with a 2nd-rope chairshot!” Wilson lifts the chair and bends at the knees as Edwin rises up, the mastermind preparing to leap…when suddenly, Edwin bursts towards the corner, leaps onto the second rope, and cinches Wilson by the waist! The crowd explodes as Edwin barely gets his footing on the ropes before jumping backwards and bringing Wilson up and over his head, chair bouncing away uselessly and clattering out of the ring…as Edwin drills his rival with a shocking 2nd-rope superplex!

 

“MAC-PHIST-OOOOO! MAC-PHIST-OOOOO!”

 

“WOW!” cries Mark Stevens! “What a counter—Edwin MacPhisto recovered just enough to stop Wilson’s super-chairshot with a superplex…but can the champion capitalize?? Come on Edwin, cover him!” But the dash and suplex have drained what remained of Edwin’s energy, leaving him and Wilson laying in the center of the ring, both clutching at their backs and writhing. Wilson breathes heavily, trying to get his bearings back, as Edwin sloooooowly crawls towards, the crowd chanting his name all the way…until he loosely drapes his arms across Chris Wilson’s chest for the cover! “Cover! Cover! Edwin’s got Wilson off the superplex!” The excited fans count along!

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

 

“TH—OHHHH!” And Wilson kicks out just in time! “So, so close!” bemoans Stevens, as Edwin rolls onto his back, pounding his fist against the mat. Edwin starts to sit up, but Wilson is on the move too, rolling away slowly, sliding off the apron and to the outside. “Both men hurt, but the somewhat stronger Wilson is making another move to ringside…” The security personnel back off as Wilson leans against the guardrail, catching a breather as Edwin gets up in the ring. The fans continue to chant Edwin’s name, and his eyes light up as he sees Wilson slumped at ringside. He looks to the fans…back to Wilson…back to the fans…and slowly, back towards Wilson with a profound grin! “One good turn deserves another!” cheers Stevens, and Edwin breaks into a dash, diving through the 2nd and 3rd ropes with his second tope suicida of the night, rocketing towards Wilson…

 

…who ducks to the side, throwing up an arm to guide the falling Edwin headfirst into the guardrail! The entire ringside barrier shakes as 239 pounds of crashing-down Crown Prince collide into the steel and go limp! “Ha! Tope him once, shame on him—tope him twice, shame on…Edwin! Yeah!”

 

“Bobby,” sighs Stevens, “your metaphorical powers never cease to amaze me. Edwin MacPhisto takes a big dive to the outside, but Chris Wilson counters—and now, with Edwin down on the outside and Wilson in control, I have a feeling things are about to get a bit brutal for our Crown Prince of Flash and Panache.”

 

CLAAANG!

 

And as Wilson slams Edwin’s head against the guardrail, Mark’s suspicions are confirmed! The Mac Daddy’s skull snaps back, and Wilson slams it forward again—

 

CLAAAANG!

 

“That slam was more powerful—you can tell because of the extra ‘a’ in clang!”

 

“Bobby, shh.”

 

Keeping Edwin in tow, Wilson fires up a mock Ali pose, bouncing weakly on the balls of his feet and shouting “I am the greatest!” before bringing Edwin’s head down a third time—no, Edwin gets his hand up and braces against the guardrail, blocking the shot! The Mac Daddy fires his free elbow into Wilson’s chin, popping his head back and knocking him away. Edwin staggers forward—palm strike to Wilson’s chest! Another! Another! “Wilson might be the more experienced brawler, but Edwin might be able to hold his own out here—we’ve seen him get brutal at Wargames, against Lerrin Breggan—and hell, Silent certainly seems to think that there’s something hidden in Edwin, some real brutal tendencies—now might be the time for our champ to let them out!”

 

“Silent, Silent, Silent,” mutters Riley. “What a strange guy. Not to say I don’t like him, but heck, he even scares *me* a bit.” As the announcers, well, announce, Edwin keeps taking it to Wilson with light palm strikes, staggering him backwards, fazing him somewhat…and after a 5th shot, Edwin makes his move, snaring a front facelock and looking for a DDT to the concrete—no, Wilson shoves forward and blocks, then levels Edwin with a standing shoulder charge! The Mac Daddy hits the concrete and lets out a gasp of pain, but just as quickly fights through the impact and snakes his legs around Chris Wilson’s, kicking them out and tripping the mastermind to the concrete beside him!

 

“Both men down, the brawling getting a little sloppy now,” comments Stevens. Closer to the guardrail than Wilson, Edwin pulls himself up first, bracing on the rail and taking quite a few enthusiastic pats on the back as he stomps away at Wilson’s chest. Wilson tries to throw Edwin’s blazing boots aside, but gets nowhere until Edwin himself stops the assault, bending to hoist Wilson up off the concrete. Wilson throws a haymaker—and Edwin blocks, retaliating with a sharp jab off his own! He fires off a short series of jabs into Wilson’s chest, then threads his arm around Wilson’s neck, locking in a dragon sleeper! “Dragon sleeper! Edwin’s going for his powerful Russian legsweep—if he hits it on the concrete, Wilson could be out cold!” Edwin grapevines Wilson’s leg with his own—and Wilson throws an elbow into Edwin’s temple, knocking him off balance and away! Edwin stumbles out of the grapevine and Wilson quickly scores a kneelift to the gut, doubling Edwin over and letting Wilson take hold, lift up, and drop Edwin over the guardrail chest-first!

 

“Hotshot over the guardrail!” cries Riley, and Edwin’s hung out to dry as fans try to pat him on the back, security personnel holding them back as necessary. Wilson pulls Edwin off the rail wheezing…and then hotshots him again, once more driving his ribs down over the unforgiving steel! “That unrelenting attack on Edwin’s ribs is going to make it one tough order for Edwin to climb back into the ring! Wilson’s drawing battle lines, and they point to the outside!” Wilson pulls Edwin off the railing and pops another knee into his gut before stepping forward to whip the Mac Daddy towards the ring steps. Edwin rockets toward the steps…and can’t stop himself as he crashes side-first into the steps, dislodging them sharply and almost knocking the mover!

 

“Big impact—Edwin’s got to be hurting!” Wilson immediately dives into the wreckage and pulls Edwin back up, throwing him recklessly against the guardrail and wailing away with overhand punches before going for another whip towards the shaky steps. Edwin streaks towards the steps…and this time, he leaps, landing on the steps and kicking off just as the collapse below him! The crowd roars as Wilson stands gaping, unable to defend himself as the Mac Daddy blasts him with a huge springing sidekick! “Springing sidekick from Edwin—the steps gave out, but not before Edwin could use them! Wilson’s down, and Edwin’s got to get him back in the ring if he wants to stay in this! The Mac Daddy tries to drag Wilson up and successfully rolls him onto the apron, but with the ring steps gone he’s got to climb, right on his recently damaged ribs…and the pain is too much! Edwin tries to crawl in, but backs off wincing and rolls out of the ring, clutching his chest!

 

“Wilson’s attack on the guardrail bought him some major time—and here he comes!” cackles Riley. As Edwin staggers away, Wilson hops back off the apron and pursues, shoving the Mac Daddy into the guardrail before scoring a ¾ facelock—“DIAMOND CUTTER!”

 

BANG! Wilson lays out and crunches Edwin’s neck with a big diamond cutter onto the concrete! Edwin curls up and tries to protect his neck, but the evil genius is on him in one hot minute, rolling him onto his stomach, hooking the arms, locking the full-nelson…and cinching the double STF! “Finishing Touches!” cries Stevens as the crowd goes nuts. “Wilson’s got Edwin in the Finishing Touches fresh off that diamond cutter—can Edwin hold on?”

 

And as the world champion taps out wildly on the concrete, the answer is a definitive no! “Edwin tapped! Edwin tapped!” screams Bobby. “Now roll him in the ring and do the same thing, Wilson!” Wilson looks up to the referee standing on the apron, as if to say, “come on, isn’t this good enough?” but the referee motions for him to get Edwin back in the ring. Instead, Wilson keeps the Touches locked on, wrenching away at Edwin’s neck as the champion cries out in pain.

 

“Whether the submission’s legal on the outside or not, Edwin’s going to be in a world of pain once he gets out of this,” bemoans Stevens. “That’s one of the most powerful submission holds in the fed, and he’s been trapped in there for 20, 30 seconds!” Edwin’s only reprieve comes when Wilson finally gets tired of the screaming and releases him, letting the weakened Mac Daddy collapse to the concrete before dragging him up…and catching sight of a very, very appetizing announce table. “Oh, no, not the table, Chris. We’ve already gone through a few of them tonight, we can’t afford to lose another…” But Stevens’s pleas are to no avail as Wilson drags Edwin towards the table, drawing a mixture of boos and excited cheers for brutality from the fans. “Clear out, Bobby—this is gonna get ugly!”

 

“Will do!” Stevens and Riley pulls back from the announce station, Stevens in particular wincing as Wilson rolls Edwin onto the wood surface. The Magnificent Seven chieftain climbs up behind him, pulling the dazed Edwin up—by the weakened neck, of course—and pulling him into a standing headscissors! “What’ll he do, Mark? This is exciting—from here, Wilson could hit a piledriver, or a square driver, or--” And Wilson gutwrenches Edwin, flipping him up onto his shoulders.

 

“Or a gutwrench powerbomb! Come on, Edwin!” cries Mark. The fans panic as Wilson holds Edwin high…and the Mac Daddy fires a weak jab into Wilson’s skull! Another! Another! “Edwin’s showing signs of life--”

 

“And Wilson’s showing signs of DEATH! Sweet, sweet, tabley death!” Wilson walks through the blows and steadies himself, letting out a roar, falling forward with the big powerbomb—NO, Edwin grabs his head, and the crowd roars as the Crown Prince of Flash and Panache reverses the gutwrench powerbomb into a swift facebuster! Wilson’s forehead cracks off the wood and the table gives a little, but doesn’t quite break. The evil mastermind staggers away clutching his head, and Edwin struggles to his feet, still clutching at his ribs as he steadies himself…

 

“Woo! Come on Bobby, say it with me!”

 

“No! I won’t!”

 

“Come on!”

 

“Die!”

 

“Fine—YOU CAN’T POWERBOMB EDWIN!” The crowd roars as Edwin steadies himself, pumping his fist in the air once before looking towards Wilson, thinking “what the hell,” and leaping off the announce table with a big crossbody splash! “Holy crap!” cries Stevens, and the Mac Daddy collides with Wilson, doing some major damage as he drives the M7 leader into the concrete! “Edwin just absolutely floored Wilson—but probably hurt himself again, too!” Indeed, Edwin clutches at his ribs—but only for a few moments, as Wilson’s body seems to have cushioned the fall! Edwin pulls Wilson up, trying to capitalize on his good fortune and suicidal tendencies, scooping Wilson up to the apron…and struuuuggling up himself, gritting his teeth through the pain of his ribs as he gets to his feet! Edwin grabs Wilson by the neck and rolls him into the ring…

 

…until Wilson shoots his forearm up and into Edwin’s nether regions with a momentum-shifting low blow! The crowd boos are deafening as Edwin doubles over, barely holding himself up on the ropes as Wilson struggles to support himself as well. “Low blow from Wilson, and Edwin’s reeling,” mutters Mark, as he retakes his seat at the announce table. Wilson pulls Edwin up off the ropes and locks a full-nelson…and then looks out towards the announce table.

 

“Uh, Mark?”

 

“Yeah, Bobby?”

 

“I think you’d better get back up.”

 

“…shit.”

 

Chris Wilson backs up to the edge of the apron as Stevens bolts away from the table again. The mastermind maintains the full nelson, and Edwin offers zero resistance as Wilson steadies himself, checks his six…

 

…and wrenches backwards.

 

The fans gasp, and flashbulbs across the arena ignite as spectators scramble for their cameras, hoping to catch the ephemeral moment as Wilson and Edwin sail back…back…off the apron…over the concrete, and—

 

CRAAAAAAAAAAAAASH.

 

--right through the announce table with a dragon suplex! The announce table explodes in a hail of splintered wood as Wilson drives Edwin clear through it on his neck and upper back!

 

“HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”

 

“Holy shit, Mark—I think Wilson just killed the world champion!”

 

“And he might have killed himself, too!” Neither man is moving…and then Wilson curls up briefly, clutching at his back as he tries to pull himself up on the remnants of the obliterated table. Edwin remains unmoving, opened up with all sorts of new cuts, a heap of blood, sweat, and splinters, a battered shell of a man. The “holy shit” chants are still pumping full volume as Wilson pulls Edwin out of the wreckage, smirking at his handiwork and struggling with the dead weight now in his arms. It takes a few seconds for Wilson to lead the limp form to ringside, and a few more to get the crumpled Crown Prince up on the apron. The Magnificent Seven’s leader rolls Edwin into the ring and slowly crawls in behind him, catching his breath as he rolls Edwin towards the center of the ring, leaving thin trails of bloodstains on the mat behind him.

 

“This is it, Mark! All the hard work Wilson’s done since his return, all the screwjobs, paying off big time, right now—and there’s the hook of the leg!” The ref dives to the mat as Wilson weakly hooks Edwin’s leg, and the crowd goes nuts!

 

ONNNNNE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEE—NO, EDWIN KICKS OUT! The Pepsi Center explodes! “Edwin kicked out!” screams Stevens! “Edwin kicked out! It took too long for Wilson to get Edwin into the ring, and Edwin pulled up desperate reserves from somewhere deep inside!”

 

“He’s dead already, Mark! He may have kicked out, but he won’t again!” Wilson press down on Edwin, holding his shoulders down with a lateral press…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

TH—and Edwin kicks up and out again! Frustrated but still acting cool, Wilson releases Edwin and lets him weakly sit up, digging into the pocket of his black cargo pants as the Mac Daddy tries to recover. The fans boo, and the ref yells at Wilson, but the mastermind fires back with some words of his own:

 

“It’s a no-DQ match, asshole. My piano wire is perfectly fucking legal.”

 

“He’s got the piano wire! Chris Wilson has a strand of piano wire, procured from his pocket—get out of there, Edwin!” warns Stevens, but it’s too late—Wilson immediately pounces on Edwin, cinching the wire around his throat—no, Edwin gets a hand up over his throat at the last second, giving himself a little room to breath as Wilson tries to choke him out! The bigger Wilson bridges back to his knees and wrenches Edwin up, trying to slip the wire over the Mac Daddy’s hand…and succeeded! The piano wire wraps tightly around Edwin’s neck and Wilson lets Edwin fall forward, falling with him, keeping the wire tight…

 

…and locking Edwin’s right arm in a half-nelson!

 

“Yes! Yes!” screams Riley! “This is the fucking greatest day ever!”

 

“Wilson, he’s—he’s trying to lock on the Finishing Touches with the piano wire! There’s no way Edwin could fight through that!” On the canvas, Edwin struggles, thrashing wildly, shoving his left hand’s fingers up under the wire, cutting the skin over his joints open but giving himself some precious room to breathe as he struggles towards the ropes. Wilson hangs onto the half-nelson and streeeetches out for the left side, lacing Edwin’s arm…and successfully locking it in! Edwin’s thumb rolls around the back of the neck as Wilson locks the hold and the piano wire digs in hard!

 

“He’s got it! He’s got it!” screams Riley, and the ref dives to the mat to call the academic tap-out, when the thrashing Edwin kicks violently and shifts all his weight to the side, rolling over onto his back with Wilson beneath him! Edwin bridges, pinning Wilson’s shoulders!

 

“REVERSAL! REVERSAL!”

 

ONE!

 

TWO—but Wilson tugs at the wire, and Edwin has to release the bridge to avoid decapitating himself! He collapses on Wilson and the mastermind rolls him back over face-down, holding onto the piano wire and the Finishing Touches! Red lines form around Edwin’s neck as the wire digs deep, and he starts to gasp! The referee stands up, ready to call for the bell and throw in the towel, when one of Edwin’s thrashing legs shoots up between Wilson’s and connects with his groin! “Low blow—Edwin got a lucky low blow, and Wilson had to let off!” Pain shoots through Wilson and he loosens his grasp ever so slightly…and Edwin powers forward, throwing off one-half of the full nelson and loosing the strand of wire! Edwin swings around with his fist and clocks Wilson straight in the jaw, knocking him back, knocking the full nelson loose…and knocking the piano wire away! “Edwin’s out! Edwin got out of that hold on pure luck--”

 

“—and he’s looking like shit, Mark!” As Edwin struggles to one knee, blood drips his forehead and neck, and he touches his hand to his throat, pulling it away red with shocked disbelief. Wilson scrambles back to his feet, meeting eyes with bloody Edwin for a just a moment…and then shifting to the piano wire.

 

Wilson looks at the piano wire on the mat.

 

Edwin looks at the piano wire on the mat.

 

They lock eyes one more time…and both dive for the wire, scrambling desperately! “The race is on!” cries Stevens, the wire jitters across the ring, nearly making it to ringside as the canvas shakes with two scrambling bodies. Wilson shoves Edwin away, but the Mac Daddy rakes at Wilson’s eyes, blinding him just long enough to streak ahead and snag the piano wire a second before it falls off the apron! Holding it high, glancing at the droplets of his own blood on the wire, Edwin weakly pulls himself up on the ropes, waiting as Wilson climbs to his feet, blinded from the eye rake…and then charges forward, snaking the loop of wire around Wilson’s throat and choking him out! The crowd goes nuts! “Edwin’s got the wire! He’s turned it around on Wilson—ladies and gentlemen, the world champion has flipped out, and he wants revenge!”

 

Wilson staggers about, Edwin behind him, and the Mac Daddy knees forward, driving his knee into the back of Wilson’s leg and sending the mastermind to a kneel! Edwin keeps the piano wire on, and as he start to step over Wilson’s back, the crowd cheers wildly! “Crown Prince Clutch! Crown Prince Clutch with the piano wire!” screams Stevens, and Edwin pumps away wildly at Wilson’s throat, drawing some droplets from Wilson’s neck as he tightens the submission! Wilson can’t breathe, but Edwin’s grasp on this foreign object is loose, and the mastermind gets his hands up between the wire, shoving forward and stripping it away! Wilson bucks and throws Edwin off of his back, scrambling up to his feet, clutching at his neck…when Edwin comes barreling across the canvas, leaping to take Wilson down with a huge spear! “Spear! Spear! Wilson’s down, and Edwin is running on fumes now, but what fumes they are!” Edwin hammers away at Wilson with mounted punches as his rival tries to throw him off, but after two dozen fists, Edwin’s the one who breaks it, pulling Wilson up, snagging a front facelock—“Here we go!”

 

Edwin grabs Wilson’s waist and lifts back with all his might, shaking as he pulls Wilson into vertical suplex position, nearly buckling…and Edwin falls back, twisting and dropping his nemesis square on the back of his head with an astonishing corkscrew brainbuster suplex! “Brainbuster suplex! Edwin’s setting up for the end!” The Mac Daddy collapses weakly besides Wilson, having drained himself on the brainbuster, but he manages to pull himself up after a few seconds, pounding his palms into the mat, blood streaming off his face as the electric crowd chants:

 

“MAC-PHIST-OOOOO!”

 

“MAC-PHIST-OOOOO!”

 

“The fans are ready, Bobby!”

 

“Ready for what? To watch Edwin underestimate Wilson and lose, lose, lose?” The atmosphere in the Pepsi Center is absolutely electric as Edwin MacPhisto gets to his feet, drags a dizzied Chris Wilson up behind him…and slowly, arduously stomps for the corner, Wilson’s head in tow!

 

“Spinal Tap—this is it!” Edwin hops, but in his weakened state only makes it to the second rope, kicking off…sailing out…and crushing Wilson’s chin against his shoulder with the tornado stunner! Edwin and Wilson collapse side by side, the Mac Daddy clutching at his neck, his ribs, while Wilson struggles with even moving! Edwin rolls over and drapes an arm across Wilson’s chest, and the ref dives down!

 

ONE!

 

“The champ’s got him!”

 

TWO!

 

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Mark!”

 

THREE—no, Wilson kicks out! “See, Mark?” cries Riley, as the fans boo. “Edwin only got to the second rope on that Spinal Tap, and it wasn’t enough to put Wilson down!” Frustrated, Edwin climbs back to his feet, pulling Wilson with him again, this time lining up back to back and signaling for the end!

 

“If the Spinal Tap didn’t do it, the Union Jack definitely will!” Edwin shoves his hands under limp Wilson’s armpits, wincing as the cuts from the piano wire sting his fingers, and the Mac Daddy throws Wilson up over his right shoulder with all his might, slowly rotating 180 degrees…and as Edwin starts to run, a thrashing Wilson slides off the back, landing on his feet!

 

“Wilson got out! Come on, Chrissy!” Edwin turns back around and charges towards Wilson…and the mastermind gets a knee up, driving it into the Mac Daddy’s gut! Edwin stops in his tracks and Wilson, acting on instinct, throws an arm across Edwin’s check, grapevines his leg, falls backward…

 

WHAM!

 

…and connects with the Last Resort! “Last Resort! Last Resort! Now Wilson’s got Edwin—he’s not getting up from that, Mark!” Every fan in the arena is on their feet, staring towards the ring, hoping for a miracle as Wilson slooowly crawls over, draping an arm across Edwin…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

“WOOOOOO! NEW CHAMP!”

 

 

 

 

THREE—NO, EDWIN KICKS OUT! “Edwin survived! Edwin kicked out!” cries Stevens. Absolutely livid, Wilson pulls Edwin up off the mat, goes for a full-nelson…and the Mac Daddy weakly rolls out with an elbow to the temple! Edwin stumbles into Wilson, spinning him around back to back, hooking the arms…and out of nowhere driving forward to crush his head with the Encore Cross! “ENCORE CROSS! ENCORE CROSS! THIS IS IT!” Edwin bridges for the pin…

 

ONE!

 

But before the ref can count two, Edwin’s weakened body gives out, losing the bridge! The Mac Daddy falls next to Wilson, crying out in pain as blood still streams from his forehead, decorating his cheeks…and several moments later, Edwin rolls over and lays an arm across Wilson’s chest! The ref dives in!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

 

 

…

 

 

NO! CHRIS WILSON KICKS OUT! THE ARENA IS ENRAGED! “I can’t believe it!” shouts Stevens. “Wilson’s survived a Spinal Tap AND an Encore Cross—Edwin’s endured a Last Resort—how can they keep going on?”

 

“There’s too much on the line to give up now!” retorts Riley. “This is war!” Agonized, Edwin clambers to his feet yet again, weakly dragging Wilson behind, pelting the back of his neck with weak, arbitrary punches…and lining up back to back one more time, arms under Wilson’s for another big, grueling lift!

 

“Union Jack—Edwin’s got him on the shoulder again!” The Mac Daddy dashes forward…and Wilson throws his hand up, catching Edwin’s neck as he runs and sliding off Edwin’s back with a swinging neckbreaker! “Reversal—no one’s ever reversed out of the Union Jack like that! Where’s Wilson getting this stuff?”

 

“Maybe the tape Silent gave him—he said it was important, after all!” Edwin is a crumpled heap clutching his neck, and Wilson’s not much better off, heaving and breathing heavily, taking 10, 15, 20 seconds to get up. Wilson pulls Edwin up off the mat, fingers nestled into blood-soaked hair as he drags the Mac Daddy up…and gets behind him to the biggest boos of the night! Edwin’s a rag doll as Wilson laces his arms into a full-nelson, grapevines the leg…

 

“Oh no, oh no!”

 

“Oh yeeeees!”

 

…and powers forward, slamming Edwin face-first with the Platinum Nightmare! “Platinum Nightmare! These two men have pulled out all the stops,” shouts Stevens. “They’re down to their last bullets, to their last breaths, to the end of everything they’ve got!” Edwin’s an unmoving heap…and Wilson is crawling, crawling to the ropes, pulling himself up—no.

 

No, he’s going out of the ring.

 

“What the hell? Wilson’s got this—oh, no.” Stevens fades out into a hushed whisper, and the crowd deafens itself with shocked jeers as Wilson hits ringside…and snags the long-discarded steel chair. “You don’t have to do this, Wilson! You can win the title!”

 

“It’s about more than the title!” snaps Riley, as Wilson slides into the ring. “This got personal a long time ago—this is about pride! This is about Chris Wilson definitively beating Edwin MacPhisto, humiliating him, destroying him, and annihilating the Midnight Carnival once and for all!” Wilson climbs into the ring, agonizingly getting to one knee, to another, keeping one eye on Edwin as he stands up, the Mac Daddy remaining limp. Wilson sets unfolds the chair and sits it in the center of the ring, a throne amidst spilled blood and drained spirits.

 

“This is inexcusable—the ref should stop this before someone gets crippled,” mutters Stevens, but to no avail. The fans are jeering, but Wilson persists, walking past the chair, pulling Edwin up, facing the chair…

 

…and getting back-to-back with his rival.

 

“No way. No god-damn way!” shouts Stevens. “Not an Encore Cross—this is humiliating! Edwin’s about to be nearly killed with his own bloody move!” The crowd is on edge as Wilson waves his hand “goodbye” to the fans, with utterly complacent contempt.

 

“Tonight, right now, Chris Wilson avenges every way Edwin’s wronged him! The title is his in just ten seconds, and what a way to win it!”

 

Wilson snakes his arms with Edwin and braces himself, grinning, looking down at his shimmering reflection in the battered chair. Chris Wilson vaults forward…

 

…and Edwin MacPhisto pushes forward himself.

 

Wilson goes nowhere.

 

“Edwin blocked! How the hell did he know to block?” The fans explode!

 

“It’s his own move, Riley! He knows it in and out!” Wilson tries to power forward again, ready to crack Edwin’s skull…and the Mac Daddy suddenly pulls his arms out of Wilson’s desperate panicking grasp and gets his hands under the arms! “REVERSAL! REVERSAL! EDWIN’S GOT WILSON ALL LINED UP--” And the Mac Daddy lets out a roar and shoves upward, vaulting Wilson up as he ducks his shoulder and lays him out atop it in a Canadian backbreaker rack! Edwin roars and turns, slowly, droplets of blooding falling off his face as he sees the chair…

 

…and grins.

 

“Holy shit.”

 

Edwin MacPhisto takes two running steps forward, and the Pepsi Center is awash with cheers as he leaps…

 

…falling to his knees…

 

…and flipping Chris Wilson off his shoulder, forward, and down onto the set-up steel chair! “UNION JACK ONTO THE CHAIR! HOLY SHIT!” A terrible snapping sound echoes out through the arena as the chair collapses and breaks, the steel warping as Edwin drives Wilson’s shoulders down onto the seat with shocking force! “That’s it! A devastating maneuver, one of the most brutal I’ve ever seen in my long career!” cries Stevens, as the fans give a standing ovation. “This match is over—the war is over, ladies and gentlemen!” Edwin collapses across Wilson and the wrecked chair, pushing Wilson’s shoulders down to the mat as the referee slides in. “Perhaps the greatest feud this federation has ever seen!”

 

ONNNNNNNNE!

 

“Perhaps the two grandest competitors our stage has ever seen!”

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOOOOO!

 

“The curtain closes on this show right now!”

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

 

The ref calls for the bell, and the Pepsi Center erupts with roars!

 

“God…dammit!” simmers Riley, as Funyon takes the microphone!

 

“Your winner, by pinfall…and STILL…the Smarks Wrestling Federation World Heavyweight Champion…the Mac Daddy…Edwin MacPhiiiiiiiiiiiiiisto!” The referee pulls Edwin’s hand up in triumph, but Edwin just collapses to his knees, overcome with blood, sweat, tears, pain, nausea. He looks at Wilson and his face pales, seeing what he’s done, seeing his nemesis there, defeated, but battered…too much? Not enough?

 

“An absolutely epic war, ladies and gentlemen. These two matched up throughout the entire match, and after beating each other to a pulp, after Edwin spilling pints of blood and surviving a dragon suplex through the announce table, a Last Resort, the Finishing Touches, the piano wire…and after Wilson enduring the Spinal Tap, the Encore Cross, the Crown Prince Clutch, everything but the kitchen sink…this is over, for good. It’s not the Midnight Carnival over the Magnificent Seven…it’s nothing but Edwin MacPhisto finally overcoming Chris Wilson, and closing the book on this remarkable and amazing story.”

[Guest BA_Baracus]

Underneath the lights of the Pepsi Center lie two broken and exhausted men- Chris Wilson and Edwin MacPhisto. These two have been to war with each other for the last six months, with partners, with friends, with stables, and, at last, as men, one against the other. For more than thirty minutes, these two athletes have thrown everything they have at one another, holding nothing back this time; on the line in this battle is their pride, their honor, their claim to being the undisputed best in their business, a pinnacle of achievement symbolized by the SWF World Heavyweight championship belt. And at last, after what seems like eternity, a decisive winner has emerged.

 

But for a man known to the SWF as Edwin MacPhisto, the end of this battle is merely the beginning of a longer…and more difficult war.

 

‘Grand Slam’ Mark Stevens takes a long drink from his water bottle, his throat parched from calling the final match of the evening, as MacPhisto begins to unsteadily rise to his feet. “Ladies and gentlemen…as an announcer, as a fan of this great sport, I can honestly tell you that the contest we just witnessed was one of the finest I have ever had the privilege of watching. The courage and tenacity displayed by both of these men will go down in the annals of wrestling history as one of the-“ Stevens pauses in mid-sentence and squints at something on his monitor. “Wait a minute. What the hell are those two doing out here?”

 

TNT and Frost of the Magnificent Seven come barreling down the entrance ramp to a tremendous chorus off boos, and the gigantic Icelander narrowly dodges an empty beer can hurled from the second row as the two M7 members slide into the ring. TNT rapidly climbs to the top turnbuckle as Frost makes a beeline for a shaky Edwin MacPhisto…and nearly decapitates the leader of the Carnival with a mighty lariat!

 

”Damn it, Edwin just went to WAR in there with Chris Wilson! There’s no way he can stand up to TNT and Frost right now!”

 

”They know that, Mark! They’re doing what they do best-kick Carnival ass; whether it’s fairly accomplished or not isn’t the point, really!”

 

Riley’s grin is a mile wide as Frost cinches up Edwin in a double-underhook and lifts the crown prince of flash and panache into the air as TNT leaps off the turnbuckle…the Nordic monster drives MacPhisto into the canvas with the Early Winter, and a split-second later, TNT plants an elbow directly on the Crown Prince’s chest!

 

”AVALANCHE! AVALANCHE! BAH GAWD AVALANCHE!” screams Riley, flecks of spittle striking an obviously disgusted Mark Stevens from across the table. Edwin lays motionless on the canvas as the Magnificent Seven’s premier tag team begins to lay the boots to Edwin MacPhisto.

 

“Jesus, this is disgusting!” yells Stevens over the resounding shouts of the Denver crowd as the M7 continue their mugging of the exhausted Carnie. “Don’t these two have any sense of decency, any sense of fair play at all?”

 

”Well, hell, Mark, they wouldn’t be as magnificent if they did…huh? Wuzzthis?”

 

The arena’s light dim, much to the surprise of TNT and Frost, and Riley’s oncoming verbal fellatio of the M7 is mercifully cut short by the familiar opening riff of “Electra Made Me Blind”!

 

The crowd revives as Chris Raynor, absent from the SWF for almost a week, comes tearing down the ramp, chair in hand, coming to the aid of his friend and companion!

 

“He's back! Raynor's back! Here comes the calvary, Edwin!” hollers Stevens as Raynor slides into the ring…

 

"No! Why couldn't he have just stayed missing?!"

 

CRACK!

 

Down goes TNT!

 

"Damn that Raynor! Why must he bring a chair into things?”

 

”Bobbi, it’s two against one in there right now! Raynor’s simply evening the odds the quickest way he knows how!”

 

CRACK!

 

Frost stumbles back…

 

CRACK!

 

Drops to one knee…

 

CRACK!

 

And the Icelander lands on his back with a tremendous thud!

 

“Chris Raynor is cleaning house, folks, and the Magnificent Seven are running scared!”

 

Riley mutters a number of incoherent curses into his sleeve, more than a little disappointed with this turn of events, as Raynor takes a moment to bask in the thunderous cheers of the fans. The second half of the Carnival’s tag-team tandem pulls Edwin to his feet, earning a mumbled “thank you” from the bloodied lips of the Carnival’s leader. MacPhisto braces himself against the ropes as Raynor turns away…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…and keeps turning…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…with the steel chair still in his hand….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CRACK!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Oh, my God.”

 

The crowd sits stunned as Raynor lets the chair fall to the mat, along with his…former?...tag team partner as he motions curtly for a microphone.

 

“What…the hell…did we just see?” breathes Stevens. Raynor wraps the nearly unconscious MacPhisto’s arms in the ring ropes, preventing him from escaping, ignoring the Denver crowd who sits in astonishment at this…apocalyptic…turn of events.

 

“Um, Mark, if you were watching carefully, you’d have seen it. Raynor took that chair right there, see, and he freakin’ plastered Edwin with it right about here…”

 

”Riley, don’t touch me. I don’t understand this…wait, he’s got a microphone.”

 

The crowd is silent in shock, with only a few boos to fight Raynor on the microphone...

 

"... it's over, Edwin... it's time these people knew what kind of guy you really are..."

 

"What the hell is he talking about?" asks Mark, who only gets a dumbfounded shrug in response.

 

"... Wilson might be full of shit ninety-nine percent of the time... but he was absolutely dead on about you, Edwin."

"Wilson?! What the hell did Wilson do-" Mark is forced to stop due to the crowd, which now raises the bar for fan hatred as a wave of boos, jeers, and garbage unlike any other all fly towards the ring.

 

"... Six years ago... does that ring a bell, Edwin? That set something off? No? ... how about this... A-P-W..."

 

Edwin is on the verge of unconsciousness, but his eyes perk up at the mention of APW... he weakly turns his head to look at his friend... his former friend...

 

"I didn't get it for a while... that's why I dissapeared, I needed some time to piece it together... I didn't want to think... Jesus Edwin, I didn't want to think anyone was capable of what you did... you broke his fucking neck, Edwin!"

 

"Mark, what the hell is he talking about?"

 

"I have no idea."

 

"Six years ago, APW, you and Nathan Kibagami... Jimmy "Union Jack" Britain hits the Union Jack, one, two, three, your winner... and then-... and then you..."

 

Raynor drops his hand down, troubled at the thoughts he's trying to express. He waits a few moments before starting again, now speaking faster, more flustered.

 

"You broke his goddamned neck, Edwin! I mean, I mean, you... For fuck's sake, Edwin, you practically killed him! And then... and then, now, now, he comes back, and what do you do?"

 

Raynor shifts his view about, looking down at Edwin while peeking at the crowd through the corner of his eyes.

 

"You begin pulling our fucking strings."

 

"... Oh no."

 

"Mark, what is he saying?"

 

"You nearly KILLED this man, and now, you... you... he comes back, back to the SWF, and you immediately start working this to your advantage?! ... ... Don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about, you did the same fucking thing with Wilson! Oh yea, this "pact" you made with him? The one that conveniently left me, Z, and Magnifico out of it so the Magnificent Seven could beat the shit out of US! Yea, that one!"

 

Mark's jaw drops. "Riley... tell me he's not..."

 

"I... don't know, Mark."

 

"Yea, you remember! Edwin's down in the ring, making you laugh and smile and cheer, then Wilson drags us bloodied and bruised out on the stage, and Edwin pulls the innocent "Oh, I didn't know!" routine?! BULLSHIT! YOU KNEW, AND YOU PLANNED IT!"

 

Raynor now begins pacing back and forth, kicking innumerable pieces of trash out of his way.

 

"Edwin's arch rival, his nemesis, his other evil half if you wish... comes back, and what does Edwin do? He plays me, he plays the Carnival right into their hands, and why? He sacrificed us, sacrificed ME, and why?"

 

Chris drops his arms, calming himself down, before continuing...

 

"To keep your spot... on top."

 

Mark Stevens and Bobbi Riley are, for the first time tonight, absolutely speechless.

 

"And it's the same with Silent!" Raynor screams, again speaking fast and flustered. "You nearly fucking KILLED him, and what do you do, you, you throw Z and me at him! The moment he comes back, you didn't think about what you did to him - the thought of trying to apologize to him or, or, or trying to bury the hatchet or, or that never crossed your fucking mind! You saw fucking DOLLAR SIGNS! Yea, throw the Carnival at him, a Carnival you know... you THINK is woefully inadequate for the job, to build Silent up for the big money match, right?! Never mind that you almost crippled him, let's get Edwin for another main event! Yea, that's right - it happened at WarGames, it happened at Ground Zero, and it was happening right under my nose the whole time!"

 

Edwin is starting to become a little less dead now, and he ever so slowly rolls onto his stomach toward the ropes...

 

"But then, I beat Silent... and you, you just... just... hole up! We try to talk to you backstage, and you just say "Drop it, Chris. No Z, I don't wanna talk about it." After all, why would you? Why would you want to go through with the match against Silent if lowly Chris Raynor could beat him? I mean... Jesus Christ, Edwin, these are peoples fucking LIVES you're fucking with! You practically put Silent in the grave, you sick son of a BITCH! And all you can do now is try to, to... to turn this to your advantage- and why are you booing ME?!"

 

Raynor turns out to face the wall of fans surrounding him, looking genuinely confused as to why he's getting this reaction.

 

“Jesus Christ…Riley, hold down the fort, will you? I’ve got to go talk to him…”

 

”Mark, are you sure you want to do that? I don’t think he wants you to…Mark? Hey, Mark!”

 

Riley’s protests are in vain as ‘Grand Slam’ Mark Stevens, leaving his headset behind it, leaves his announcing position for the first time in four months, and heads into the ring…

 

FWOOOOOOOOSH! THUNK!

 

FWOOOOOOOOSH! THUNK!

 

..only to be cut off by Silent coming out of the crowd, cane in hand, as Raynor…motions for the Slaughterer to join him in the ring?

 

“Folks, um, I am thoroughly confused here…” sniffs Riley. Silent rolls a bloodied Stevens into the ring, then climbs in after him, taking the microphone from Raynor’s hands as he rises to his feet…

 

“Edwin…your friends…are gone. Your fans…will be the next…to follow.”

 

Silent hands the mic back to Raynor and exits the ring, heading back up the ramp without so much as a glance behind him. A groggy MacPhisto’s eyes widen and focus on Raynor, who mutters a final phrase into the microphone, so soft as to barely be audible to the audience:

 

”You didn't believe me?!" Raynor asks, glaring out at the fans. "Fine... I'll prove it! Play the fucking tape! …I’ll see you in hell, Edwin.”

 

And with that, Raynor drops the microphone, steps over Stevens on his way out of the ring…and the tape plays, two stories high, on the Smarkstron, for MacPhisto fans around the world to see…

 

===============================================

 

The tape flickers to life, a date and time signature appearing at the bottom of the screen…

 

APW, Phoenix, Arizona.

 

October 24th, 1996.

 

…And the visage of Edwin MacPhisto, six years younger, appears on the screen, with a hapless opponent above his head cinched up for the Union Jack…but the other man lurches to the right, countering with a swinging neckbreaker!

 

Edwin’s mystery opponent rolls to his feet as Edwin rolls out of the ring, trying to recuperate…the camera gets a close-up of the mystery man, through the blood and sweat that cover his features…

 

The features of Damien Phillips. Nathaniel Kibagami.

 

…

 

The Silent One.

 

===================================================

 

“What the hell is this?” breathes Riley. “Folks…even I’m a little worried right now…

 

===================================================

 

The footage is clipped…we jump to a shot of Edwin hoisting Nathan up onto his shoulders for the Union Jack…taking two steps forward…

 

CRUNCH.

 

And PLANTING Nathaniel Kibagami headfirst onto a chair.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

The pin is academic.

 

THREE!

 

**DING DING**

 

”Your winner via pinfall…Jimmy “Union Jack” Britain!”

 

But…Jimmy…isn’t finished.

 

====================================================

 

“Is that…is that really Edwin? My God in heaven, what has he done…”

 

=====================================================

 

Edwin…Jimmy…takes the chair from beneath a bloodied Nathan…

 

“What the hell? Damn it, the match is over!”

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

====================================================

 

Riley cringes at the announce table, his eyes glued to the Smarkstron…

 

=====================================================

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

“Damn it, Jimmy, you’ve won the match! That’s enough, for God’s sake!”

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

====================================================

 

Stevens sits dazed in the center of the ring, his face pale as he watches…

 

====================================================

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

”Jesus Christ, somebody do something!”

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

“SOMEBODY CALL THE FUCKING PARAMEDICS!”

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

===================================================

 

And in the ring ropes, his arms pinioned behind his back, a terrible sense of realization is growing in Edwin MacPhisto’s clouded mind…

 

====================================================

 

Beaten, covered in blood (most of it not his own), Jimmy calmly sets up the terribly dented chair in the center of the ring. He pulls Nathaniel Kibagami to his feet, applies a standing headscissors, and lifts him for a powerbomb…

 

But he changes it a little bit.

 

Jimmy pushes Nathan down, keeping hold of his thighs, so that Kibagami’s head hangs just above Jimmy’s knees. Jackson hooks both of Nathan’s arms at the elbow…flashes a grotesque wink and a smile at the camera…and drives his helpless opponent’s unprotected neck down towards the chair…

 

“CUT THE FUCKING TAPE, NOW!”

 

The footage abruptly ends, leaving a blood-red APW logo in its place.

 

But not before a terrible, ominous cracking sound is heard.

 

====================================================

 

The fans are shocked, stunned into silence. Stevens kneels in the center of the ring, his mouth agape at what he has just seen. Even Bobby Riley is, at last, silent.

 

And on the face of Edwin MacPhisto…

 

Is nothing.

 

Nothing at all.

 

===============================================

Apocalypse 2002 is a trademark of SWF Enterprises.

================================================

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

SINGLES MATCH

Chris Raynor vs. Mercury

- Damn no-showing Raynor!

 

BOMB SHELTER TAG TEAM TITLE MATCH

“TNT” Taylor Nicholas Thompson & Frost © vs. Danny Williams & Xero

- Chilly-Willy Wang Bang hold on to the titles!

 

NO-DQ SINGLES MATCH

Sacred vs. Renegade

- Sacred with the win.

 

SINGLES MATCH FOR THE HARDCORE TITLE #1 CONTENDERSHIP

Silent vs. Annie Eclectic

- No contest here, but it looks like things between these two aren't over.

 

US TITLE MATCH

Tom Flesher © vs. Ash Ketchum

- Your winnah and still US champ...Tom Flesher!

 

LAST MAN STANDING MATCH FOR THE ICTV TITLE #1 CONTENSERSHIP

Longdogger Pete vs. Perfect Bo

- Wooo! CC pride!

 

TRIPLE THREAT MATCH FOR THE HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE #1 CONTENDERSHIP

Thoth vs. Lerrin Breggan vs. El Luchadore Magnifico

- Magnifico with the big win.

 

HARDCORE TITLE MATCH

Jay Dawg © vs. The Hville Thugg

- Jay Dawg beats the mighty Thugg with help from...from...say, look at the pretty butterfly.

 

YOU’RE FIRED/LADDER MATCH

Erek Taylor vs. The Boston Strangler

- Match finish edited in...but I ain't tellin'.

 

NO-DQ/NO INTERFERENCE MATCH FOR THE SWF HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE

Edwin MacPhisto © vs. Chris Wilson

- Go read the match. Scoot. Go on now...