SWF Storm (September 13, 2002)

September 14, 2002

[Loud music booms through the darkened arena.

Suddenly a series of 6 large yellowish pyros explode one after another from the left side of the stage to the right. As soon as they're done another bunch of orange-ish pyros burst across the stage from the right side back to the left as the Smarkdown logo appears on the SWF-tron.

After a few seconds the lights return, scan an excited audience then zoom in on the announcer's table...]

Mark Stevens - Here we are once again for SWF Storm!!!

Bobby Riley - Brought to you by Summer's Eve!

Stevens - Ewwwww....Are you not feeling fresh Bobby?.

Riley - Oh, I'm always fresh...that's your upper lip you smell.

Stevens - Oh...well, damn....ummmm...On with the SWF action!

September 14, 2002

The Card

HARDCORE TITLE MATCH

Jay Dawg © vs. “TNT” Taylor Nicholas Thompson

- TNT challenged Jay Dawg to a hardcore title match in the chat ro…er, I mean lunch room. Jay Dawg accepted because that’s the kind of stand up fella’ he is, and it’ll be on this Friday!

TAG TEAM MATCH

Longdogger Pete & Renegade vs. Annie Eclectic & Danny Williams

- Annie Eclectic recently turned on X Force 9 and revealed that she was in fact an M7 mole within the stable. Now the betrayed Longdogger Pete and Renegade get a shot at some revenge.

SINGLES MATCH

Frost vs. Z

- Z was named the new leader of the Carnival this Monday, but Frost certainly won’t be following any of the new leader’s orders Friday on Storm! Will Z lead by example by scoring a win over this Magnificent 7 monster?

NON-TITLE MATCH

El Luchadore Magnifico vs. Sacred

- Sacred (who has been struggling a bit lately) has challenged the new heavyweight champion, El Luchadore Magnifico, as he knows a win over the champ could be just the thing to springboard him to the top of the card. Magnifico is hot right now, but could Sacred grab an upset?

SINGLES MATCH

Divefire vs. Mercury

- Divefire has been making his share of noise since returning, but has yet to compete in a singles match. That singles match will come this Friday against Mercury. Both of these men could use a win (and will be beaten to death if this ends in a double no show).

TAG TEAM MATCH

Ash Ketchum & Xero vs. Perfect Bo & Lerrin Breggan

- Both Ash Ketchum and Xero seem interested in the winning the tag team title, but how will they function as an actual tag team? We’ll find out on Storm.

N0-DQ US TITLE MATCH

Tom Flesher © vs. Tod deKindes

- Tod deKindes has been chasing Tom Flesher for some time now, but so far Tom has always managed to weasel out of a title defence. Well…not this time. Tom vs. Tod this Friday on Storm.

NO-DQ SINGLES MATCH

Chris Wilson vs. Chris Raynor

- A couple weeks ago, Chris Raynor turned on long time friend Edwin MacPhisto and now he wants a match against him. Stubby isn’t convinced Raynor deserves a match with the longest reigning SWF champ in history though, and has decided Raynor has to prove himself by defeating Chris Wilson before he can get a shot at Edwin.

September 14, 2002

Storm returns to the Lawlor Events Center in Reno, Nevada! The smoke from the opening pyros has finally faded away, with assistance from some industrial fans as Mark Stevens begins to hype up the show.

Stevens: “Boy oh boy, we just saw the card and what a show it’s going to be!”

Riley: “Yeah yeah! A hardcore title match is coming up ever so shortly… with the new longest reigning hardcore champion in history, Jay Dawg, against the Magnificent Seven cattle… TNT!”

Stevens: “There is no doubt that Jay Dawg has been one of the best hardcore champions we have seen! The question is, has it taken it’s toll on him? If so… there is a damn good chance we will see TNT walk out of here tonight the new hardcore champion.”

Riley: “I think it was about two months ago, that Jay Dawg went psychotic on TNT’s tag partner, Frost in a hardcore cage match, and annihilated him with one crazy diving headbutt… I think we have some footage of that.”

A clip of two months ago plays, with JD diving off the top of the cage, into the chair faced Frost. Two repeats of JD falling from halfway down, and the connection of skull and steel play.

Stevens: “Frost never got revenge for that… I bet he hasn’t forgotten!”

"Oy!"

“Oy!”

The crowd boo like it was the wedding of Chilly Chilly Bang Bang as a few “Oy’s” signal the inauguration of AC/DC's "TNT." Suddenly, the entrance curtains begin to ruffle as a dark figure emerges from the backstage area. The figure steps into the sea of red and orange strobelights, and is illuminated by them, revealed as Taylor Nicholas Thompson. The letters "T-N-T" flash across the SmarkTron.

"Watch me exploooooooooooode!!!!!" echoes throughout the arena, and the hulking mass that is Taylor Thompson briskly strides down the aisleway.

Funyon: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall and it is for the SWF Hardcore championship! Introducing first, he is the challenger! He hails from Anaheim, California! He stands at Six feet Six inches and weighs in at 267 pounds! One half of the SWF tag team champions and a member of the Magnificent Seven…. TAYLOR NICHOLAS THOMPSON!!!”

Taylor makes it to ringside upon his name being announced and hops up onto the ring apron, flipping the heated audience off and receives a rather negative response for his troubles. He steps through the ropes and into the ring. Taylor hits one corner, letting out a "KABOOM!" of pyro explosions.

Taylor steps over to the opposite corner and a second “KABOOM!” explodes… but suddenly, above him deep in the rafters, his pyro sets off multiple fireworks over top of him…All around the arena, on top of the SmarkTron and everywhere else, the pyros go off… the lights go out leaving a thick fog of smoke to be the only thing seen.

"THIS

IS

MAH

HOUSE!!"

The rumbling loud voice of Jay Dawg echoes through the arena. It is followed shortly by Rammstein's "Du Haste" as it plays over the speakers without the lyrics... The heavy beats thunder 360 degrees all over the arena letting the crowd know it’s time to get hardcore... JD steps through the curtains, his head down. A gigantic chain is hanging over his neck, a staff in his hands, and the hardcore title fastened around his waist. He walks to the top of the ramp, slowly raising his head. He slowly raises his head, as the chain gently clinks around, and looks into the eyes of his adversary for the evening. He flexes/shakes his shoulders for a half second, letting the chain produce a wave effect over his neck as he lowers his head once more, the ill intentioned grin over his face. He begins to saunter down the ramp as Funyon does his thing.

Funyon: “And his opponent! He hails from Vancouver, British Columbia! He stands at Six feet Four inches and weighs in at 250 pounds! The SWF Hardcore champion and member of the Creative Control…. JAMIE ‘JAY DAWG’ DRAZON!!!”

Jay Dawg once again raises his head, and hops onto the ring apron. TNT, realizing that the weapons are too much, casually slides outside, giving Jay Dawg his space. JD leans the staff over his corner and unhooks his hardcore title, passing it to the ref. He pulls the chain off his neck and slides it over the staff.

Stevens: “It took three disturbing and disgusting shots with that chain over a week ago, for Jay Dawg to pin The Silent One.”

Riley: “If it can have Silent stay down for three, I have no doubt of what it would do to TNT! The best advise, avoid at all costs!”

TNT once more slides back in the ring, squatting low, determining the best strategy for his rival. JD hunkers down himself, hands over his kneecaps, taking a look into the eyes of TNT. Mischief grows over the face of JD, while determination is over TNT. The two walk into the center of the ring and little hesitation leads them into a lockup, the much more powerful TNT shoves JD around, toward a corner. JD suddenly pivots and breaks the grip, diving at TNT with a waistlock… pivoting around so he is belly to back. JD releases one arm and clubs TNT in the back of the head with a forearm, dropping the tag champ to a knee.

Stevens: “JD shows some of his experience right now.”

JD straightens his arm out, and stiffly drives it down, right into the forehead on TNT. JD grabs a handful of dreads and wraps his arm over TNT’s throat and tightens up in a rear choke.

Stevens: “This is a little change of pace here! Jay Dawg and TNT are used to brawling, what is with the choke so early!”

Riley: “JD probably doesn’t want to waste much energy fighting TNT!”

Stevens: “Jay Dawg came off a big win against Silent and Thoth just last Smarkdown, while TNT was disappointed with a loss to Raynor!”

Riley: “It’s almost as if Jay Dawg is saving his energy!”

Jay Dawg hangs onto the hair with his other arm as he lifts the choking arm, and pulls it in with a deadly strike, right into the throat of TNT with his biceps. TNT clasps his throat as JD throws him into the mat, the head bouncing off the pads. JD gets to his feet and makes a dash toward the ropes, bounces back and leaps in the air for an elbow drop. TNT avoids the move with ease and gets straight to his feet. Upon crashing into the mat, JD sits right up, his eyes briefly roll into the back of his head but come back down again as his eyelids cover them up once more. He’s back at his feet in a matter of moments, but is cut off by three rapid fists courtesy of TNT. JD stumbles back into the ropes and TNT quickly throws him off. JD bounces back hard and is hip tossed into the mat by TNT. JD gets back to his feet and TNT picks him up, carrying him by his side and starts spinning around in the ring, 360, 720, 1080 degrees and slams Jay Dawg down with a sidewalk slam!

Stevens: “Big move by TNT!”

TNT makes the cover, a hook of the leg.

One…

Jay Dawg powers his shoulder up and hooks up TNT into a half nelson and rolls back so he hooks TNT into the mat.

One…

TNT rolls through, and reverses the half nelson into one of his own. The two stand up and TNT wraps his spare arm around Jay Dawg’s waist. TNT lifts, but JD gets his leg grapevined into TNT’s bends down, and shoulder tosses TNT over him. JD instantly drops his knee, right over top of the head of TNT.

Stevens: “An excellent counter to the half nelson suplex! I have to say it was a little early for TNT to try a move of that power!”

Jay Dawg pulls TNT off the mat, underhooks both of his arms, and raises a knee straight into TNT’s forehead. JD releases the one arm, and hooks onto the other one and tightens down with a basic armbar. JD releases the armbar but holds onto the arm, and tightly wrenches it. With a wringing, TNT grabbing his shoulder from the pain as JD slams his shoulder into it. JD takes a step back and once more, thrusts his shoulder into the wrenched shoulder of TNT. Once again, TNT grabs at his shoulder and JD uses the leverage to stretch it back. JD pulls his right hand back and with semi power, slaps TNT right across the face. TNT takes a look into the eyes of Jay Dawg, and wants to hit him with every ounce of anger he feels, but the simple arm twist causes so much pain.

Stevens: “A show of disrespect by Jay Dawg! It almost looks like he’s wanted to do this for a while!”

Suddenly, TNT motions the side of his wrist and yanks JD into him, then headbutts the hardcore champ! TNT takes a step back and thrusts his head forward, right into the skull of JD. TNT grabs a hold of the wrist of JD once more, pulls hard, and throws out the back end of his elbow right into the jaw of JD! TNT pulls the stumbling JD into a standing headscissors and underhooks both of his arms. Before TNT even flexes a muscle, JD breaks free of the underhook and powers TNT high up and over his head with a back body drop. TNT hits the mat hard but is quick to his feet while JD locks him into a facelock…

Stevens: “Could we see the JD DDT!?”

And as if it wasn’t predictable enough, TNT counters the DDT by lifting JD up with a Northern Lights suplex and bridges out for the pin.

One…

Two…

JD kicks out with authority! TNT pulls JD to his feet, but is trapped in a waistlock, and JD lifts him up high, pivots, and slams him into the mat with a bone-crunching belly-to-belly suplex! JD stands back up and starts to stretch out his shoulders with simple but stiff rotation. He slowly cricks his neck as he looks down at the puddle of 267-pound explosive. JD takes a look into his corner, getting a good look at both his staff and chain, and every member in the audience who hates TNT more then JD, marks out like Thoth at an SNK fighting tournament. JD struts toward his corner, grabbing his staff, he pulls it outward and the chain slides down. JD pulls the chain and leaves it in the center of the ring, then begins to show off with his staff.

Stevens: “Jay Dawg is ready to take this battle to the hardcore limit!”

Riley: “The question is… Is TNT ready?”

TNT finally completes the journey to his feet, and rests on the ropes. Jay Dawg gently tips the staff and jabs it at TNT, but one half of the SWF tag champions steps out of the way and JD jabs his staff through the ropes! TNT swats the weapon to the side, and JD has to let go if he can hope to defend against TNT’s future onslaught. Taylor Thompson dives for JD, but the hardcore champion propels his arm out for a lariat. TNT ducks below the blow and heads for the ropes, rebounding off the cables just as fast as JD turns around, TNT hits Jay Dawg hard, falling into the ropes, no overtop of the ropes with a Cactus clothesline!

Stevens: “And they have spilled outside!”

Riley: “It’s time to get destroyed!”

TNT flips over the ropes in a grisly manner, as JD lands hard on the ring apron, only to timber down to the floor. Jay Dawg’s staff falls over top of the two men and rests over the chest of JD and the back of TNT.

Stevens: “A weapon right beside them, all they have to do is capitalize!”

TNT begins to stir first, getting to his feet rather quickly. JD begins to follow, gripping onto his cane before TNT can. However Thompson grabs a hold of JD and Irish whips him straight for the steel steps. JD steps into the steps, pivots only to see TNT throw his staff right for him! Just as JD catches the staff, centimeters from rearranging his nose, TNT runs right for him. Jay Dawg gets his staff up, but it’s too late, TNT leaps into the air, driving his shoulder right into the mid-section of JD…

Stevens: “Oh my god!”

The force carries both men off the steps and onto the opposite end of the unforgiving mat! Thousands in Lawlor Events can hear the sickening smack and thud of bodies taking that fall. Jay Dawg takes the move on his back while TNT lands overtop of him, fortunately tucking his head into Jay Dawg’s chest. TNT rolls to his back and lifts his head up for an ever so brief moment, as Riley demands a replay of that. Over the SmarkTron, an overview of the show is shown, and a slow motion form, where JD tries to block with his staff only to have his air knocked out.

Stevens: “Holy byjesus! What a move by the so far pretty hardcore TNT!”

Riley: “Now look at this angle… you can tell Jay Dawg saw it coming, and wanted more then anything to brace himself!”

A half a minute has passed, and TNT finally rolls over to JD, draping an arm over top.

ONE…

TWO…

TH… No! Jay Dawg gets a shoulder up! The crowd is in shock as they expected to see a new hardcore champion just crowned!

Stevens: “And Jay Dawg shows just why he is the longest reigning hardcore champion out there!”

TNT rolls away from JD and reaches under the ring, pulling out his infamous aluminum baseball bat.

Stevens: “A smart tactic by TNT… having his bat already there!”

TNT holds onto his ball bat, and swinging with painful amounts of force, connects with a line drive swing right into Jay Dawg’s ribs! The hardcore champ’s eyes bulge out and every ounce of breath leaves his chest, but TNT pulls him into a side grapevine, wrapping his bat around Jay Dawg’s throat! TNT leans forward for a half-second, but snaps backward, driving JD into the mat with a side Russian leg sweep, assisted by the bat of course.

Stevens: “That has gotta be all! Jay Dawg won’t kick out of this!”

TNT returns to his feet and looks down at JD. He wipes away the sweat from his forehead, then looks up into the ring. His attention grabbed, he turns back to JD for a brief moment.

“This is for Frost you useless S.O.B.!!”

TNT drops the bat and hops onto the ring apron, then begins to climb the turnbuckles.

Stevens: “Oh my god! Don’t tell me TNT wants to finish it off like this!”

Jay Dawg’s eyes suddenly snap open, and like he’s the undead, sits right up! He looks over to his right and spots his staff, he grabs a hold of it as TNT with his back turned climbs to the top turnbuckle. JD immediately gets to his feet and pops up to the steps… just as TNT turns around, he receives an awful surprise. JD swings his staff with lethal force, driving it right into the thigh muscle of TNT. The blow causes TNT to grab his leg, but he keeps his balance… only for JD to swing the staff once more and crush it into TNT’s cranium! Taylor Thompson goes goofy eyed and begins to wobble as he stands on the top turnbuckle. JD takes his staff and firmly plants it into Thompson’s left ass cheek, and pushes it slightly…

Stevens: “Better back up!”

Riley: “Way ahead of yah!”

-TNT falls off the top turnbuckle right for the announce table! The tag champ sails downward, swinging his arms to try and prevent the inevitable… CRACK!!

-FACEFIRST RIGHT INTO THE ANNOUNCE TABLE THAT DOESN’T BREAK!!

Stevens: “Oh sweet jesus!”

Chants of “Holy Shit” begin to take over the crowd as the heap of trash known as TNT crumbles to the floor. JD jams his staff into the steps and looks down at TNT, letting his eyes return to closed, as he grins sadistically. He hops off the steps and grabs a hold of TNT, bringing him to his feet. The crowd’s chants begin to die down and turn into boos as Jay Dawg looks on bringing out further pain.

“You want hardcore, son!”

Jay Dawg looks out to the crowd, and despite their distaste for him, they go insane with cheers.

“I’ll give you hardcore!”

JD grabs TNT by the back of the neck and pants, then throws him over the announce table! TNT rolls and lands… right into the lap of Bobby Riley! JD reaches over the table, grabs TNT by the back of the hair and shoves it right into the groin of Bobby Riley! TNT waves his arms around trying to pull away but JD only pushes harder, hard enough for Riley to let out a scream of pain as his colleague bursts into tears of laughter.

Stevens: “Jay… *snicker* Dawg just shoved… *giggle* TNT right into the groin of Bobby *snicker* Riley!”

Stevens doesn’t dare try to say anymore in hopes that his lungs don’t pop. JD finally pulls TNT off of Riley, either to relief or displeasure, as no one knows what an orgasmic look is for Riley. TNT begins to gag as JD takes him and throws him into the ring.

Riley: “That son of a bitch! What fucking nerve!”

Stevens: “HA HA HA!!! That is the funniest shit I’ve seen all year!”

JD throws his staff into the ring, then grabs the baseball bat of TNT and throws it inside as well, before rolling in himself. JD looks at the weapons in the ring, but the condition of TNT also catches his eyes. He turns to the tag champion and pulls him into a standing headscissors, crossing the arms over the throat. TNT breaks free though, lifting out Dawg’s legs with a takedown, he elevates them high in the air, then falls back! Jay Dawg catapults over top of TNT and hard into the turnbuckles…CRACK!! Hitting his head on the pole, he stumbles back and is promptly rolled up by TNT with a schoolboy.

ONE…

TWO…

Stevens: “He’s got him! New champion!”

THREE…NO!! Jay Dawg barely inches his shoulders off the mat. TNT is at his feet, and angry for obvious reasons. He taunts JD to get to his feet, praying that he’ll hurry up. JD finally makes it up and TNT rushes for him… SMACK!! But gets a front kick right to the jaw. JD rushes for TNT, but Thompson pushes him up in the air, but JD facelocks him on the way down, and drives him face first into the mat with the JD DDT! TNT grabs at his face but JD rolls him up tight while hooking the leg.

ONE…

TWO…

THREE…NO!!! TNT gets a shoulder up by mere inches!

Stevens: “And a closecall by JD this time!”

JD waves his arms into the air, signaling the end is near and begins to stomp his right foot. TNT crawls over to the chain of Jay Dawg while the hardcore champ stomps his foot like an idiot. TNT rises and JD dashes for him, thrusting his leg out for the Thai Roundhouse, TNT ducks! JD turns around from his failed target to see TNT swinging with the chain wrapped over his fist. SMACK!! The blow knocks JD back and TNT grabs his legs, pulls them out, and flips onto Jay Dawg’s chest with the double leg bridge!

ONE…

TWO…

THREE…NO!!!

TNT gets to his feet, drops the chain in front of him and pulls JD to his side, gutwrench waistlock and pulls the hardcore champ up in the air. JD rests on Thompson’s shoulders for a brief moment, before being slammed down into the chain… Facefirst with the Dominator! TNT collapses to his knees then falls over top of Jay Dawg, who upon being rolled over is now pretty bloody from the chain smash. TNT makes the academic cover and every TNT hater boos at the soon to be new hardcore champion…

ONE…

TWO…

THREE!! SWEET MOTHER OF JESUS JAY DAWG KICKS OUT!!!

Stevens: “New champion… huh!? What?”

Riley: “It was only a two count! The guy who gives the worst head in the world couldn’t put JD down for three!”

Stevens looks over to Riley for the last comment.

Riley: “What?”

Stevens: “I don’t believe it either!”

TNTn pulls JD up and into a vertical suplex set up, as the crowd opener does its job, getting them on their feet. TNT lifts, but the limp weight of JD doesn’t feel like being liftable. JD suddenly grapevines TNT’s leg and rolls back, right into the inside cradle!

Stevens: “The tide turns once more!”

ONE…

TWO…

THREE…NO!! TNT rolls back, pulling himself and JD to their feet, he lifts up with the vertical suplex setup, pushes JD forward, and spikes him into the mat with the Falcon Arrow! He sits out for the cover, with only his hand covering Jay Dawg’s chest!

ONE…

TWO…

THREE…NO!!! Jay Dawg gets his shoulder up with no time to spare!

Stevens: “And ANOTHER Close call! How many will we have in this battle tonight?”

TNT pulls JD back up to his feet once more, and lets him stand there. TNT reaches down to the mat and grabs his chain, picking it up, he puts it over the neck of JD. TNT looks at the mat and picks up his baseball bat, he also spots the staff and gives it a kick, letting it roll out of the ring. TNT taps the bat over his toe and looks at JD.

Stevens: “Step up to the bat, boyo!”

Riley: “Aren’t you clever!”

TNT picks the bat up and gets into stance, then swings right for Jay Dawg’s head… Jay Dawg barely ducks the lethal blow, and gets in position. TNT swings around clockwise just as JD spins counter clockwise, thrusting his leg out and the ball of his foot kicks TNT in the jaw so hard that the man turns back counter clockwise! TNT staggers about on his feet as JD unwraps the chain from his neck and swings it down like an axe, connecting into the head of TNT! The tag team champion drops to his knees, looking forward, but not focusing on anything as the rest of his body timbers to the mat. JD drops to his knees and rolls TNT over with a hook of the leg.

ONE…

TWO…

THREE!!! NO!!! TNT barely kicks out by a millimeter with a millisecond to spare! Jay Dawg shakes his head in frustration and pulls TNT right back up and into a standing headscissors.

Stevens: “Another close call by JD, not holding TNT down enough!”

Riley: “He’ll finish him enough this time!”

TNT suddenly drops, and the one move every man regrets is done… DING!! A flat out punch to the groin! Jay Dawg tries to let out a howl, but only dogs can hear his cries as TNT slowly stands up, looking coldly into his competition. He pulls JD into a standing headscissors to a roaring ovation of boos and underhooks both of the arms.

Stevens: “The set up for the Dynamite! Will this be enough to put JD away!?”

TNT will never find out though, as JD breaks the underhook and returns the earlier favour. DING!! The punch to the groin causes many in the audience to laugh out loud at the sudden pain brought over TNT. JD takes a step to his left and grabs onto his chain, looking coldly into the body of TNT. He shakes his head and swings the chain like a ball bat, CRACK, right into the chest of TNT! TNT grabs at his chest in extreme amounts of pain, but walks right into JD… DING!! A Kick to the nuts this time drops TNT to his knees! Jay Dawg wraps his chain around TNT’s throat and pulls him into a standing headscissors!

Stevens: “Oh dear lord! That was two straight shots to the nuts and hit with a chain!”

Riley: “Now he can only give instead of receive! Heh heh heh!”

Jay Dawg crosses TNT’s arms over the chain and leaps into the air… the massive body of TNT goes crashing into the mat to a bone-crunching display as the chain knocks any air out TNT’s jugular. JD rolls TNT over and places his hands over his chest, raising his eyelids as blood drips over his face…

ONE…

TWO…

THREE!!!

The heavy beats of ‘Rammstein’ begin to play once more and the crowd goes insane at the close contest.

Stevens: “I don’t think anyone cares who won this battle!”

Riley: “Sure they are glad that they beat the hell out of each other!”

Funyon: “The winner of this match and STILL SWF HARDCORE CHAMPION!!! JAY DAWG!!!”

The ref raises his hand and passes him the gold and JD holds it high above his head.

Stevens: “What an opening battle as Jay Dawg came up big with that defense! However that is only the beginning folks!”

Riley: “Stayed tuned to watch a bunch of people hurt each other, just not to this magnitude!”

Jay Dawg finally leaves the ring, grabbing his staff as he does so and heads up the ramp. The camera catches a glimpse of TNT, who slowly starts to remove the chain from his neck, coughing and gasping for breath. The camera decides not to show anymore like it’s fucking TSN and we go to a commercial.

September 14, 2002

The camera pans over fan after fan in the audience, holding up signs of a hilarious nature. Gawd do you laugh at the fans and their high hilarity! Amazing what they come up with isn't it? And now, over to the commentator booth where "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley sit.

Stevens: Welcome back, as the blood has been... moderatly cleaned off the ring and the floor, and welcome to yet another exciting match here on Storm. Next up, tag team revenge type shenanigans as Longdoggah Pete and Renegade get a chance to put a hurt on the Magnificent Seven mole, Annie Eclectic and her teammate, Danny Williams.

Riley: You're damn right Stevens. Deathwish may just be the big wildcard here, as he's been on a tear through his short stint in the SWF so far. If Pete or Gade try to focus their betrayal too much, they'll get a face full of Williams tonight.

Stevens: Face full of Williams? I shudder at the possibility of a Freudian slip there.

Riley: How will it all play out? Egads, I'm excited!

Stevens: While I ignore the fact that Riley just uttered the word "Egads", let's go up to Funyon who's ready and waiting in the ring!

Camera cuts to the immaculately dressed announcer.

Funyon: This match is a tag team match, set for one fall.

"Figure 8" by Trust Company starts to blare over the Arena PA system as Longdoggah Pete and Renegade appear at the top of the entrance ramp. Pete raises his arm high in expected victory as Renegade gives himself a quick self high-five. Both men run towards the ring, sliding underneath the bottom rope. Pete and Renegade pop to their feet, raising their arms and egging on the crowd to cheer.

Funyon: Introducing first, at a combined weight of five hundred thirty two pounds.... Longdoggah Pete... Renegade... X FORCE NINE!!!

Stevens: Pete and Renegade are definitly pumped up and ready for this match!

Riley: Too bad they're destined for a beating like none have ever seen!

Stevens: Uh.... right

"Toxicity" by System of a Down begins to play, as the rampant cheers begin to turn to shouts of hatred...

Funyon: And their opponents, at a combined weight of four hundred thirteen pounds... "Deathwish" Danny Williams.... the "Hardcore Queen" Annie Eclectic.... Magnificent Seven!

Danny Williams walks out first, very slowly making his way towards the ramp. The curtain opens again as a woman walks out clad in a red leather two-piece. A red inverted tear is painted over her left eye, and in her right hand, a microphone is visible...

Annie: Whoa whoa... hold on, Danny, hold up. *music cuts*

Stevens: Well it appears that Annie E has gone to a... modified Lady Red look....

Riley: Mwror!

Stevens: Riley, you're gay, and supposedly so is she. Cut it.

Ignoring the crowd's jeering, Annie decides to continue.

Annie: Pete! Gade! Long time no see! How is it over in Seattle? A little rainy? Ah well, nothing to be done there.

Pete rushes to the ramp side of the ring, shouting at the Hardcore Queen.

Annie: I'm sorry, did I hurt your feelings when I had M7 jump you? Truly, I'm ever so sorry! Look, *points at unpainted eye* I even... shed a tear for you! Ha ha!

The Longdoggah promptly extends a finger towards Annie, whose face does not brighten at the sight.

Annie: Cute, well, remember that beating when you recieve it again, first at the hands of Chris Wilson... and then.... from the hands of the HARDCORE QUEEN *sharply points her thumb at her chest* ...Annie E!

Annie spikes the microphone and rushes towards the ring, Danny Williams in tow. Both slide into the ring with Pete throwing a quick punch at Annie, but misses as she backs off. She steps back through the ropes, taking her tag position and grinning at her former leader. Pete grumbles and walks back, mumbling a few words to Renegade before stepping through the ropes to take his tag position, leaving Deathwish and Renegade in the ring....

DING DING DING

Stevens: It will be Renegade and Williams to start this off tonight!

Riley: I thought TNT and Jamie Drazon started it off tonight.

Stevens: Don't get picky.

Renegade and Williams circle each other in the center of the ring. Both men lock up in a collar elbow tie up, struggling to gain an advantage over the other. Deathwish slides his arm up and forces Renegade's head down, locking in a side headlock. Renegade pushes hard to William's side, forcing him into the ropes by the XF9 corner. Williams hits the ropes, but wraps his arms around the top rope, stopping his momentum. He side steps to his right, and blasts Longdoggah Pete with an elbow shot, momentarily knocking him silly.

Stevens: Cheap shot by Williams to hit Pete, and I'm not sure he wants to anger LDP considering the last time these two met in a tag match.

Riley: Why? Pete isn't the type to run in and make a save, he's too concerned about -rules- and -honor- and -safe sex-.

Stevens: Riley... again, you're trying to find the -gay men-, you shouldn't hit on Pete, or Annie, or Deathwish... or Renegade.

Riley: ... Mark honey...

Stevens: and NOT me either!

Pete comes to his senses and starts to scream at Renegade, shoving his hand out as far as he can for a tag. Renegade obliges as Williams starts to back off. Pete cracks his knuckles as he stalks his prey and rears back for an overhand right.... but Williams runs back to his corner, tagging in the Hardcore Queen.

Stevens: Williams runs like a coward, bringing the turncoat back into the ring. Pete and the crowd aren't too happy about that move.

Riley: It's just good psychology. Piss off the enemy and force them to make mistakes.

Stevens: Which can easily turn into "Piss off the enemy until they beat you into something almost but entirely unlike mincemeat".

Pete walks forward, rearing back for another overhead right hand... and unleashes it to nothing but air as Annie sidesteps and whips to the back of LDP, falling back and rolling him up in a schoolboy. The official drops to make the count...

ONE

TWO...kickout

Stevens: Not even close there really.

Riley: Gotta keep making pinfalls you know, because... uh.... on of them will work.

Stevens: Very astute, wanna leave the technical aspects to me?

Riley: Only if you leave the lovin' to me.

Annie pops back to her feet, allowing Pete to rise up to one knee. LDP looks straight up at Annie E and voices his annoyance at her. Annie blows a kiss towards Pete who stands to full height and moves forward with another overhand right, which Annie dodges. Pete throws a second punch which hits nothing but air. A third punch swings Pete to his right, missing Annie and putting her right back behind him where she.... wraps him up in another schoolboy!

ONE...

TW..kickout!

Stevens: Are they trying to get him mad? These schoolboys so early just seem like the M7 team wants to mock and tease the XF9 team.

Riley: Why not, trash talk is fun! Watch: Mark eats Eggs Benedict.

Stevens: How is that trash talk?

Riley: C'mon Mark, have a little taste. Any food connoisseur knows that eggs florentine is where it's at.

Pete's face radiates anger as he rushes towards the Hardcore Queen, throwing a wild lariat out at her but the Angel ducks underneath... and hits a third schoolboy! Pete kicks out before the referee can even begin to count as both fighters get up to their feet. Pete screams out in frustration throwing a punch.. but gets lifted off his feet... and then slammed back down to the mat!

Stevens: HOLY CRAP! There have been rumors that Annie E has been strengthening herself to be able to land stronger moves... but I never thought I'd see Annie Eclectic lift a two hundred and seventy plus pound man up and hit a -spinebuster- of all things!

Riley: And she still radiates innocent feminine beauty.

Stevens: Innocent is not the word... even the crowd seems a little stunned by that attack, but none more than Pete himself who seems a little groggy and slow to his feet...

Annie E locks Pete's head under her arm and lifts his arm up over hers. With a small grunt, she lifts the X Force Nine leader up in a vertical suplex, and holds him up high for a couple seconds... before falling back and driving Pete's back into the mat a second time. Annie drags Pete up to his feet, but the Longdoggah shoves the Angel hard, sending her flying backwards to the mat. He half staggers half stumbles towards his corner, tagging in his partner.

Stevens: Pete gets the smart tag in as he needs to not only try and recover from any pain, but calm himself down. His anger may lead to bigger mistakes from the XF9 team here.

Riley: See, I was right.

Renegade steps through the ropes and only makes it a couple of steps forward before reacting to the front kick sent from his opponent by catching it in his hands. The Hardcore Queen panics for a split second before leaping into the air and spinning, landing a hard kick into the shoulder of Renegade! The Niner drops his enemy to stagger away from the attack, rolling his arm in an attempt to free the limb from pain as Annie gets back to her feet. Renegade steps forward with the intent to attack but finds himself in the air from an Annie E hip toss. Renegade hits the mat hard as Annie keeps ahold of Renegade's arm, locking it straight and bending the arm over her knee at his shoulder.

Stevens: Annie thinks she has a weakness, and is ruthlessly going after it.

Riley: Can you blame her?

Stevens: Not really, but I worry about how far these dispicable M7 fighters might take that...

Annie pulls hard on Renegade's arm, bending it back over the shoulder even harder. Renegade screams out in pain and attempts to reach out to the ropes but retracts the hand when Annie forces even more pain upon him. Pete screams out support and begins to stomp on the mat, creating a ripple effect as the crowd begins to clap in beat to his stomp. Renegade reaches out further, shaking his head at the referee to say he isn't quitting yet. Renegade's hand shrinks back at even more pressure applied by Annie E, and Pete has enough, stepping through the ropes and viciously kicking the Hardcore Queen in the back of the head. Annie releases the hold and turns around to see the referee restraining Pete and pushing him to go back to his corner.

Stevens: Pete makes the save but he isn't going back to his corner, he's obviously flustered by their opponents attack strategies tonight.

Riley: They're smart, Mark, I told you.

Stevens: Heh...

Riley: What?

Stevens: Smart mark.

Riley: Shut up.

with the referee distracted, Annie quickly slides outside the ring. Grabbing Renegade's hand, she pulls on it, dragging Renegade across the canvas to the ring post. Positioning the steel post between Renegade's head and his worn down shoulder, Annie brings the arm back to Renegade's side... the whips it around to hit and wrap around the steel, forcing a scream of pain out of the XF9er. Annie slides back into the ring just in time for the referee to turn around and see Annie gingerly jog over to her corner and slap hands with Deathwish, tagging him in.

Stevens: This match seems firmly in M7's grasp, it's theirs to lose right now.

A dazed Renegade climbs up to his hands and knees, and starts rolling his arm again to try to lessen the pain inflicted on it. Williams kneels down in front of Renegade, and locks on a front facelock. “HUUUUUUUUUUR!” groans Williams as he strains to apply maximum pressure on Renegade’s head. Williams looks up and smirks at Pete, who can only watch as Williams dismantles his young partner. Pete raises his leg to step over the second rope, sparking some cheers from the crowd.

Riley: Look at that! Pete is fixing to rush into the ring and mug Williams.

Pete pauses in deep thought and plants his foot back on the apron.

Stevens: No, Pete knows that if he steps in he risks getting his partner double teamed, or worse.

Riley: Assuming that Williams and Annie would ever stoop that low.

Stevens: They already have!

Riley: Really?

Williams can feel the life slipping out of Renegade, as he tightens his grip to the point that his balloon like biceps look like they are going to bust. “REN-A-GADE!” encourages the crowd, but their chant is in vain. Sensing Renegade is finished, Williams jerks him up to his feet and sets him up for a suplex.

Riley: Williams looking for the DANGEROUS BRAINBUSTAAAAAAAAAAAH!

A sweat soaked Williams, digs his white boots into the mat and takes a few deep breaths. “HIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!” strains Williams as he slowly but surely hoists Renegade up into the Vertical Suplex position. But Renegade starts kicking his legs, and falls back down into the Suplex setup. “RAAAAHHHHHH!” screams Renegade as he snaps back, slamming Williams into the mat with a thunderous Snap Suplex! THUMP! The fans burst into cheers at Renegade’s unexpected comeback.

Stevens: NO! SNAP SUPLEX!

Renegade keeps his grip on Williams, rolls him over and pulls him back to his feet. Renegade’s legs shake from the strain of just standing, and he looks like he’s about to pass out.

Stevens: Renegade looking for another one, he normally likes to chain his snap suplexes together.

Riley: Now if that was me, I’d go for the tag. But unlike me, Renegade is brawn and no brains

Despite being as drowsy a college freshmen on the morning after an all night binge, Renegade lifts Williams up for a Suplex again! Renegade manages to get Williams vertical, only to loose his grip. Williams lands on his feet behind Renegade, and instinctively locks on a Sleeper! “BOOOOOOOOOOO!” Williams wraps his legs around Renegade, and falls back to the mat with the body scissors. A frustrated Pete, shakes his head at Renegade’s mistake and looks away in disgust.

Riley: THE SLEEEEEEEEEPER!

Stevens: Named so, because it puts the audience to sleep.

Riley: Because the audience is dumbasses that can’t appreciate the greatness of the move. Williams can easily wear Renegade down, without expending to much of his won energy.

Renegade keeps his arm raised in the air to show the ref, that he’s still awake. But in just half a minute, Renegade’s arm starts to wobble. The crowd starts another “REN-A-GADE!” chant, this one being even louder than the previous one. A determined Renegade feeds off the energy of the crowd like it’s some type of high powered stimulant, and manages to roll over to the ropes. A pissed Williams releases the hold, allowing an exhausted Renegade to roll out on the apron. Renegade rolls over on his stomach, and buries his face in his hands like he’s going to take a nap. Bored by Renegade’s lack of fighting spirit, Williams rushes over to Pete while running his mouth. Pete retaliates with some colorful language of his own, while Soapdish tries to get between the two. SMACK! Williams manages to slap Pete in the face, prompting the big man to step through the ropes. The official uses all the strength of his tiny frame to hold back Pete.

Stevens: Williams should just concentrate on Renegade, instead of trying to pick a damn fight with the illegal man.

Riley: Well if Pete’s the illegal man, he should stay on the damn apron!

Stevens: But Williams slapped him!

Riley: You may not of saw if from your angle, but Pete was gonna rush into the ring. I saw it with my own two eyes.

While all this anarchy going on, Annie calmly climbs out of the ring and grabs her trusty Kendo Sword. Annie drapes Renegade’s lifeless arm over the ring apron, and draws back her weapon! POP! Annie smashes the stick across Renegade’s dangling arm! The front roll fans start a “SLUT!” chant at Annie, while the rest of the crowd just “BOO”s. Renegade rolls back into the ring, and curls up with his injured arm tucked against his chest. The ref finally forces Pete back on to the apron, allowing Williams to go to work on Renegade.

Stevens: And the odds continue to stack up against XF9. Annie may have broke Renegade’s arm with that damn Kendo Sword!

Riley: If that really did happen, than I’am sure the official would have saw it.

Williams pulls Renegade up by his injured arm, and snaps it over his shoulder with unnerving force! “DAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” screams Renegade as he turns his back on Williams and staggers away in pain.

Riley: ARMBREAKAH!

Williams catches Renegade in a rear waistlock, and tosses him overhead with ease! Renegade lands right on the back of his head, and folds over on his belly.

Riley: DANGEROUS GERMAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!

Williams thinks about the pin, but catches Pete in the corner of his eye. Williams instead opts to tag in Annie. Annie is met with a chorus of violent “Boos!” as she steps into the ring. Williams holds Renegade’s arm straight out, allowing Annie to flop on it with a Senton! Annie jumps back to her feet, and smashes Renegade’s arm with another Senton! Than another! Than another! Pete spits and curses at the ref, who finally forces Williams back to the outside. Renegade pulls his squished arm out from underneath Annie, and rolls around on the mat in pain.

Stevens: It appears that Annie and Williams’ strategy is to work over Renegade’s arm. If you recall, Sacred managed to completely shut down Gade’s offense by working over his arm at Apocalypse.

With a huge grin on her face, Annie starts nudging Renegade’s face with her boot while shouting for him to get up. Annie gets frustrated and just jerks the drowsy Gade up by his hair. Smack! Annie smacks the taste out of Renegade’s mouth and sticks out her chin, screaming for Renegade to retaliate. Barely able to hold open his eyes, Renegade slowly draws back his right hand but recoils in pain. Annie bursts into hysterical laughter at Gade’s handicap, and starts blasting his ribs with Roundhouse Kicks! Annie does a cute little twirl, and fires a Spin Kick!

Riley: SPIN KICK!

But Renegade catches her leg, and hooks his strong arm around her waist!

Stevens: Uh oh, Gade caught her leg! I wonder what he plans on doing with Annie from this position?

Riley: I could think of a couple of things...pervert.

Thump! Annie lands grotesquely on the back of her neck, with her legs folded over her head.. Both wrestlers are down as the crowd explodes into cheers.

Stevens: CAPTURE SUPLEX! A real nasty one too.

Renegade starts to move, and begins crawling towards his corner. Pete starts clapping his hands as the crowd rhythmically joins in with a “REN-A-GADE!” chant. Renegade crawls within reaching range of Pete, who stretches his hand out to his battered partner. The crowd rises to near riot level as Renegade stretches his hand out above Pete’s, and gets ready to bring it down to make the tag official. Crack! Out of no where, Williams rushes into the ring and knocks Pete off the apron with a stiff Running Elbow before Renegade can touch his hand! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Stevens: Now that was uncalled for! How many cheap shots is the ref going to let Williams get away with.

Riley: What cheap shots? Williams is doing the best he can to enforce the rules, and keep Pete from illegally entering the ring.

CLANK! Pete smashes into the guardrail, but doesn’t seem to be hurt. Like a pissed bull, Pete rushes into the ring to an explosion of cheers. With his back turned to Pete, Williams pulls Annie’s legs back to the mat and gives her a few smacks to wake her up. Smack! Pete brings a stiff double axehandle down on Williams’ back! Pete follows with a hard knee to Williams’ gut, that forces the out of breath grappler to double over! Pete hooks Williams arms and falls back, driving the top of Williams’ head into the mat!

Stevens: LONGDOGGER CLOGGER!

Riley: Yuck! What a disgusting name.

The crowd blows the roof off as Pete celebrates, while a half dead Williams rolls out of the ring and lifelessly flops down on the floor.

Riley: What a coward, how can these fans cheer a man who just someone from behind!

With his mouth hanging open from exhaustion, Renegade lays in the XF9 corner still waiting for the tag. But Pete climbs out of the ring, and goes after Williams. Pete pulls the limp Williams up by his wrist, and shoots him into the steel steps with an Irishwhip! THUMP!

Stevens: Pete needs to quit worrying about Williams and make the tag to Renegade.

Riley: Pete is ignoring his partner and breaking every rule in the book in his selfish quest to brutally assault a man who has never wronged him.

Stevens: What in the hell are you talking about?

After staring blankly at his empty corner in disbelief, Renegade sighs and pulls himself up with the ropes. Renengade very slowly pulls Annie up by her hair. Renegade painfully twists Annie’s head around for the Renebreak! Instead of executing the move, Renegade cries out in pain and freezes in position.

Stevens: NO! Just like at Apocalypse , Renegade is unable to pull off his favorite finishing move!

Annie shoves Renegade into the ropes, and kicks him in the midsection as he bounces back! Renegade doubles over, and Annie snaps a front facelock. Annie grabs a handful of his tights. Annie lifts Renegade up ever so slightly, and drives his head into the mat on a sickening angle!

Riley: ANNIE T! IT’S ALL OVER!

Annie doesn’t go for the cover, instead she rolls Renegades corpse over and locks on the Crossface Chickenwing Clutch! Renegade awakens from the comfort of his coma, to find his right arm, back, and shoulder all in extreme pain.

Riley: TRIPLE C! Brilliant move! Instead of risking the pin, Annie is going to go for the kill by attacking Renegade’s weak arm.

Stevens: Come on, Pete! Don’t let it end like this, help your partner!

Pete has his back turned to the action as he brutally rams Williams head into the bottom step over and over again! Renegade starts tapping with his free hand, and the ref frantically calls for the bell!

DING! DING! DING!

Riley: IT’S OOOOOOOOOOOOOOVER!

Funyon: Your winners, by submission... Annie E and Danny Williams!

Stevens: Pete couldn't keep his anger in check at the right time, and M7 picks up the win!

Pete looks up at the ring, and rushes in to break up the Triple C, but Annie breaks and runs, rushing to her partner and raising his hand in victory.

Riley: M7, calm and collected win this round, and I think they'll win the war as I'm sure Pete or Renegade isn't done bitching about how they suck yet.

Stevens: I'd rebut but we're due for commmercial, stay tuned for more SWF action!

Cut to commercial.

September 14, 2002

The arena is dark. Funyon, sitting at the table, announces, "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you... A Few Minutes With Tom Flesher!"

Suddenly, twin columns of blue pryo begin to shoot up on either side of the entrance curtain, accompanied by the intro to "I Am The Man" by the Philosopher Kings. After a few moments, the stage is caught in a blue pyric explosion. When the smoke clears, Tom Flesher stands in his trademark pose, head turned to the left, thoughtfully grabbing his chin. Oddly, his belt girls are not present, and he wears the Light Heavyweight belt around his waist with the US Title slung over his shoulder. After taking a moment to soak in the... er... cheers of the crowd, he begins to stride confidently toward the ring. He ducks the ropes, climbs in and motions for a mic as the lights come up and the music fades.

"Hello, hello, hello," says Flesher."First of all, let me thank you all for coming out to see me tonight. I do, however, have good news and bad news. The good news is... hey, I'm here. You all get to watch me, see me and generally bask in my presence. Go'head. I don't mind. Bask." Flesher makes a quick wrist-roll, indicating for the crowd to continue their basking. He's met with a shower of boos along with the beginnings of the "YOU SUCK DICK! YOU SUCK DICK!" chant that plagued him throughout his tenure in the SJL. Flesher just grins and pats the US Title on his shoulder.

After a moment, he continues. "The bad news, fans, is that you're not going to get to see me work tonight." Boos. "I know, I know. I'm as disappointed as you are. But friends, I have to tell you, this time it's not my fault. You see, Tod deKindes is in NO condition to work tonight. I'm not sure exactly how he got INTO this condition- probably bumped into a door or something- but his knee is pretty fucked up." The fans continue their "YOU SUCK DICK!" chant, knowing full well that Tod was injured in the cowardly sneak attack by Flesher on Smarkdown.

"I know, I know. It's a shame that he's so damn clumsy, but you know Europeans. They're so clumsy. I mean, just look at Edwin MacPhisto. And even worse, Tod's Canadian, too! It's like a double whammy of incompetence!"

Flesher strolls around the ring, tapping his temple, looking like he's trying to think of how to phrase something. Finally, he stops and leans on a turnbuckle.

"Doubly incompetent. Why does that make me think of someone else in this league? It's strange... it's on the tip of my tongue... WAIT! I know! I'm thinking of Z!" The fans dutifully burst into a "CAR-NI-VAL! CAR-NI-VAL!" chant as Flesher drums his fingers impatiently on the turnbuckle.

"I see my old friend Z has been named the leader of the Midnight Carnival. See, here's the thing about that.... it's going to kill the Carnival. I'm not sure they entirely understand that yet, but they signed that venerable stable's death certificate when they handed it over to Z."

"What a sad, sad day this is for wrestling," he continues. "A stable started by the one and only Suicide King, god of all wrestlers, and nearly as sexy as me, is going down the drain because of sheer stupidity in leadership. Sure, Z holds three clean victories over me, dating back to the SJL. Sure, it's true that I've never pinned him or made him submit. But... seriously, people... look at him, and then look at me."

He sighs deeply before continuing his spiel. "Alex Zenon is a cancer on wrestling. We debuted the same night- March 9, 2002. In the six months since then, what have I done? SJL European Title in my fifth match as a pro. SJL World Title after two months- two reigns, in fact. Offered an SWF contract about two weeks later. SWF US Title in my third match, the first of three reigns... and I beat the World Champion you're all so happy to see, and took his Light Heavyweight belt with me. Hell, Fallout even started winning tag matches when he was teamed up with me! And all this isn't even CONSIDERING the fact that I carried a mop to the indie match of the year in 1997. **** 3/4, easy, but only because I had to throw on a headlock midway through to give it a rest."

"And meanwhile... what's your beloved Alex Zenon done? I'll tell you what he's done. He held the SJL European Title for a week. And who did he lose it to? Danny Williams, in the same two-fall, two-title match where I won the SJL World Championship. And for this.... for ONE European reign in the bush leagues... he gets rewarded with running the Suicide King's brainchild? Fuck, that putz can barely work a zipper!" The fans burst into another "YOU SUCK DICK!" chant interspersed with the "CAR-NI-VAL" one.

"So, in conclusion... Tod deKindes, I'm very sorry that you somehow managed to injure yourself. It's a shame. Unfortunately, I can't be held responsible for the fact that you're clumsy. Since you're obviously in no condition to compete tonight, you're forfeiting the match, and since you're unable to show the appropriate amount of respect to this United States Title... you're not getting another shot. Sorry, Tod. That's the way things work in the bigs."

"And one more thing. Z, I'm going to enjoy watching the Midnight Carnival flounder and fail under your... *snort* 'leadership.' Just remember... you may have beaten me down in the bush leagues, but look at where you are... and look at where I am. Try not to be jealous, because as much as you suck, Alex... I love you as much as you love me. Maybe... even... more."

With that, Flesher sets the mic on the apron. "I Am The Man" begins to blare out over the speakers, and Tom steps through the ropes, climbs down the steps and walks to the back.

FADE.

September 14, 2002

The camera fades in on Storm focused upon the entrance stage. The crowd pops madly while “Epic” grooves throughout the auditorium. Funyon’s docile tones waft in from the ring.

Funyon: “Our next match is scheduled for one fall and will be held under standard SWF rules. Now entering the arena…”

The fans explode even louder as the doughy form of Z pushes aside the backstage curtain and steps out. He is holding a bundle of posterboards under his left arm. He steps to the top of the stage with a smile on his face and waves to the enthusiastic throng.

Funyon: “at a weight of 229 pounds and hailing from Trenton, New Jersey; he is the NEW leader of the Midnight Carnival… ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!”

Z fires off a crisp salute to the fans and then trots down the ramp.

Riley: “As if I didn’t want this show to be over already as it was. I bet those signs say ‘Will Job for Food.’”

Stevens: “That is no way to refer to the new Carnie leader. While a surprise choice to many, Z has shown the right mix of heart and smarts in the past to take the reigns of the SWF’s premier fan favorite stable.”

Riley: “That mix being 100% heart and 0 smarts.”

Z begins handing out the crudely made signs to the fans around the ringside area. They giggle as they flash the makeshift posters at the camera, with sayings such as “FROST IS AN ASS CLOWN,” “FROST = TEH SUQ,” “FROST 3:16 SAYS I JUST WIPED OUT YOUR BUFFET.”

Riley: “What the hell is this? There is no call for such cheap tactics.”

Stevens: “Some people like to term Z as little more than a goofball, but there is always a method to his madness. If one remembers the last time these two men met, Z dressed as Frost’s girlfriend Sydney Sky just to get under the big man’s skin, which worked like a charm.”

Riley: “Like a charm in getting his ass beat.”

The music shifts, as does the crowd tone, as Funyon makes his second introduction to the sounds of “Cities on Flame with Rock ‘n Roll.”

Funyon: “And his opponent from Reykjavik, Iceland at a weight of 296 pounds. He is one half of the SWF Tag Team Champions and a member of the Magnificent 7… FRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSSSSST!”

Frost sashays with confidence down the gangway, smoking on his robust cigar. Z finishes handing out his signs and slides into the ring with a twinkle in his eyes.

Riley: “Frost is not the kind of man you want to piss off. He’s big, he’s mean and he’s very good. Today in one of the casinos here in Reno I saw him win $1200 at the black jack table.”

Stevens: “That must have been some good playing indeed.”

Riley: “No, he just kept looking at the dealer funny.”

Frost comes to an abrupt halt as he enters the ringside area and is accosted by the sea of derogatory signs. Frost’s face flushes a bright red and he spikes his smoldering cigar to the ground in disgust. He points a finger up at Z in the ring. Z gives a polite wave and blows a kiss out to the Icelandic Iceman.

Riley: “Gimmick infringement. Z clearly has a Deathwish tonight.”

Frost storms into the ring. Z’s face blanches white and he turns to run, realizing what he has gotten himself into. Frost latches onto Z by his died blue ponytail and the man waves his arms and legs wildly to break free.

Riley: “We’re in Nevada, 2-1 odds say this doesn’t go over five minutes.”

Frost spins Z around to face him and lets go of his hair. Frost balls up a right hand and pulls it back to send flying. Z’s eyes roll into the back of his head and he passes out.

Stevens: “No dice.”

Frost blinks bewilderedly and then flashes a smug grin to the booing fans. Z springs up from the mat like a hot Pop-Tart and creams Frost in the groin with a forearm. The crowd ‘ooos’ in sympathy as Frost sinks to his knees. Z jumps up and throws his hands in the air, screaming like he won the Super Bowl.

Stevens: “Z was playing opossum. See, Bobby, smarts.”

Riley: “No good cheating bastard is what I see.”

Z remembers that he’s wrestling a match and darts into the near ropes. He rushes toward Frost and dives into him with a seated dropkick. Frost flops over backwards and Z covers for the quick pin.

ONE

TWO

Frost kicks out with authority and Sexton Hardcastle holds up two fingers to signify the break.

Riley: “I know Frost is pretty well endowed in that area, but I don’t think a ball shot is going to finish him.”

Stevens: “I don’t want to know how you know that.”

Riley: “Word gets around. He’s LL Cool Frost, Ladies Love Cool Frost.”

Both men climb to their feet. Z takes Frost by the wrist and goes to whip him into the far ropes. Frost reverses and sends Z for the ride. Z turns to catch the ropes in the back and heads back toward Frost’s outstretched arm. He ducks under and makes for the opposite ropes. Frost pivots as Z takes to the air for a cross body.

Steven: “Frost catches Z! BACKBREAKER!”

Riley: “You can’t powerbomb Kidman and you can’t cross body Frost.”

Frost shoves Z off his knee and lateral presses him.

ONE

TWO

Stevens: “Shoulder up! One plus you have to give Z is his resilience.”

Riley: “So, he just gets his ass kicked longer. The guy’s a total masochist, I wonder if Mistress Sarah is on his speed dial?”

Frost stands and pulls Z up by his hair. He drives the man back with a series of European uppercuts into the ropes before hooking Z’s wrist and whipping him across the canvas. Frost bends over for a backdrop, but Z pulls up short and rocks him with a knee to the face.

Stevens: “Frost telegraphed that one. He might be a little too confident here.”

Frost staggers back while keeping his head down. Z grips the Icelander’s arm and swings his leg over it to hook under his chin. He then brings his other leg up and over and cracks Frost down to the mat with an impact that shakes the ring.

Stevens: “Krazy Krash! Z works an armbar on the canvas.”

Frost shakes his head to loosen up the cobwebs and powers up to his feet.

Riley: “That was a whole lot of razzle-dazzle for nothing. Z needs to cut the fancy crap and focus his move set on high impact maneuvers.”

Z tries to ratchet down on the armbar, but Frost retaliates by chopping Z in the chest with his free arm. Z looses his grip and stumbles back into the corner.

Stevens: “Frost is blistering Z with those knife edged chops. Knee to the midsection!”

Riley: “The new Carnie leader looks real good, doesn’t he Mark?”

Frost puts one arm between Z’s legs and the other on his shoulder to hoist the grappler into a press slam position.

Riley: “Hell, he couldn’t even pull a match with the Mag 7 leader. He had to settle for their main enforcer.”

Stevens: “Frost is living up to that moniker…oh no!…He can’t be!”

Frost walks over to the outskirts of the ring with Z held high overhead. He growls at the fans and unceremoniously tosses Z to the floor. He smacks the floor mats with a wet thud and bounces up to knock into the guardrail. The fans wave their signs to encourage their man as Frost steps over the ropes to the apron.

Riley: “Like taking out the garbage.”

Stevens: “That has to be at least a twelve foot drop Z took. He is tough, but we’re about to see how tough.”

Frost drops to the floor as Hardcastle decides to follow him out instead of starting a count out.

Stevens: “Referee Sexton Hardcastle, obviously fearing for Z’s well being, is trying to head Frost off, but with little success as he wrenches the man up.”

Riley: “He’s just trying to cover the fact that he can’t count to ten.”

Frost pushes his forearms into Z’s chest and heaves him back into the guardrail with a clang. The nearby fans try to help out by thrusting Z’s signs into Frost’s face. Frost grunts and rips the poster board out of the hands of a startled man. Frost takes a second to appraise the sign, which reads “CHILLY CHILLY SUCKS WANG.” Frost smashes the sign over Z’s head. Z’s eyes cross and his body contorts from the forceful blow by the flimsy object. Frost starts stealing the signs and walloping Z with them.

“FROST IS A FLAKE”

WHAP!

“FROST SELLS FOR CUTTHROAT”

WHAP!

“FROST IS A ROODY-POO JABRONI (WHATEVER THAT MEANS)”

WHAP!

“FROST DIGS HOT LESBIAN ACTION”

Frost shoots a thumbs up and nods his head approvingly.

Riley: “Frost needs to be careful there, he could give himself a paper cut.”

Z stumbles around drunk and slouches chest first against the ring post. Frost turns and measures him before charging with a shoulder block. Z’s knees buckle and he collapses just as Frost reaches him. The Icelander clobbers into the steel post and ricochets off. The fans moan in sympathy and Frost staggers around holding his bruising shoulder.

Stevens: “Z ducks out of the way and needs to capitalize.”

Riley: “I wouldn’t call that a duck, more like Z’s dumb luck preventing him from being a dead duck.”

Hardcastle chastises both men and points for them to return to the ring. Z trips to his feet and eyes the dazed Frost. He skips forward and plants his left leg while rocketing out his right for a superkick. He catches Frost square in the shoulder and he spins around and drops to one knee from the force of impact.

Riley: “Z now has a weak spot to attack, let’s see if he’s smart enough to work it.”

Z pulls Frost up by the sides of his head and shoves him into the ring. Z follows with Hardcastle on his tail.

Stevens: “Here’s a cover!”

ONE

TWO

Riley: “Easy kick out. Z has to exploit that shoulder.”

Frost attempts to climb to his feet, but Z beats him up and reaches between his legs and grabs his wrist for a pump handle low blow. He places a boot on Frost’s rear and kicks him across the mat. Frost stumbles shoulder first into the second turnbuckle and flops to the mat writhing in agony.

Riley: “Now he’s working the shoulder and the crotch.”

Stevens: “Don’t talk about working crotches.”

Z spreads his arms out in a grand gesture and spins around to pop the fans.

Stevens: “It’s time, Bobby.”

Riley: “No…no…it’s not!”

Stevens: “Oh, I think it is.”

Riley: “No…no…it is NOT!”

Z sprints up to the camera lens and screams “NELBINA TIME!”

Frost rolls over on his back as Z pounces. He hooks the man’s arms around his tree trunk legs and rolls him back over to his stomach. Z climbs up on Frost’s back and flexes his barely there biceps.

Riley: “Z needs to work on the shoulder and he’s doing THIS! Z needs to go for a win and he’s doing THIS! Z needs to be taken seriously as the new Carnie leader and he’s doing THIS!”

Stevens: “And Frost isn’t stopping him.”

Riley: “Shut up!”

Z slaps his doughy gut and chants “Nel-bina, Nel-bina.”

Hardcastle leans over Z’s shoulder and says, “If you’re just going to keep him in this I’m going to run in the back and grab a sandwich, because he’s not submitting.”

Z twitters an embarrassed laugh and climbs off of Frost’s back and unwraps him. He takes Frost by the ankles and lifts him up, huffing and puffing from the strain.

Stevens: “Z ties Frost in the Tree of Woe and stomps the damaged shoulder.”

Riley: “That’s what he should have been doing all along.”

Z hops back and sends a thrust kick to Frost’s shoulder. He blocks it with his left hand and pushes him back. Z spins with the push and charges into Frost with a knee to his upturned stomach. Z backs up and allows Frost to plummet to the canvas. He quickly pops up to the second turnbuckle and jumps backwards with an elbow cocked. Frost rolls to his right and Z splats empty mat.

Riley: “ A back elbow off the ropes, looks pretty…when you HIT it.”

Stevens: “Both men are down and dazed. Frost climbs to his feet, still heavily favoring that shoulder.”

Z scrambles up and charges Frost out of instinct. He turns just as Z reaches him with a clothesline to knock them both over the ropes to the floor!

Stevens: “ARM GRENADE!”

Riley: “To the bad shoulder!”

Both men lay in a pile of twisted human flesh. Sexton slides out to check on them as they pull themselves apart.

Riley: “Sexton seems to be neglecting his duties in not using count outs. It wouldn’t surprise me if Z paid him off.”

Stevens: “Bribing and match fixing in Nevada? Don’t be ridiculous.”

Z works his way loose and creeps along on his hands and knees as Frost attempts to pull himself up by the apron skirt. Z stops and then silently slides underneath the ring.

Riley: “That spill out of the ring must have scrambled what little brains Z has left. He wants to climb into the ring, not under it.”

Sexton turns from dealing with Frost and scratches his head in trying to figure out where Z went. Frost finally makes his feet and turns, still holding his bad shoulder. He looks around and stares at Sexton, who throws his hands up in the air.

Stevens: “Look, it’s Z, he’s sneaking out of the adjacent side of the ring and coming up from behind!”

Z bum rushes Frost and shocks him with a knee to the lower back. Frost lurches awkwardly forward and Z give him another boot to the rear to send him careening shoulder firsts in the ring stairs. The metallic bang echoes through the auditorium and mixes with the crowd’s cheers.

Stevens: “Z is working the shoulder AND entertaining the fans in his special way.”

Riley: “He ought to be riding the special bus.”

Frost slumps over the stairs as Z climbs to the apron. Z paces a few steps down and leaps off into the air and hits Frost in the back with a legdrop. He tumbles off to the floor as Frost howls in pain like a wounded animal.

Stevens: “Z seems to be following your advice, Bobby, by simply pounding that injured shoulder.”

Riley: “Wha….uh…damn, that will teach me to be a good analyst.”

Z dances to his feet and yells, “It’s Nelbina time!” Hardcastle sighs and shake his head ‘no.’ Z looks at Sexton with hang dog eyes and mouths ‘no’ at him. Z shrugs his shoulders and bends over to yank Frost up. Z rolls Frost into the ring and shuffles in after him. He glides up to his feet and heads for the far ropes. Z’s face unexpectedly glares with confusion as he realizes he’s unsure of what to go for here. In his musings, he trips over his own feet and falls into Frost with a headbutt to his sore shoulder.

Riley: “If I didn’t have the promise of playing craps until six in the morning looming in front of me, I’d probably kill myself now.”

Stevens: “Z may have stumbled upon that move, but he looks assured now as he heads for the corner.”

Z gingerly climbs up the turnbuckles to stand on the top facing into the ring. He springs up, spins around and launches off head over heels in a strangely graceful motion for the gangly grappler. He hovers in the air for a split second as flashbulbs pop at the wondrous sight…

Riley: “WIPEOUT!”

Stevens: “FROST ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY OF THE SHOTGUN MOONSAULT!”

Z bounces a foot in the air and comes down to whack his beleaguered body a second time. Z does a midair flip and flops on his back completely out of it. Hardcastle prepares to make a double count, but Frost hauls himself up by the second rope.

Riley: “SUCKER! That shoulder is fine, Frost has been duping him the whole time.”

Frost trots over to his fallen foe and hammers down with an elbow to the midsection. Z ‘oophs’ in pain and Frost covers.

ONE!

TWO!

THR-

Frost’s face twists in agony from a sudden spasm in his shoulder and he rolls off of Z.

Stevens: “The shoulder looks peachy to me.”

Riley: “He’s just being a ham and trying to fool everyone, what acting.”

Z sits up and slaps himself on either cheek to revive. He pushes himself up by his hands straight down on the canvas and pivots around on his rear. His swinging feet bump Frost in the right shoulder and it starts a new seizure running through his body. Z puts a hand to his mouth over his accidental kicking, then brightens at the comprehension that it was a good move on his part.

Stevens: “Z trudges up…he’s pulling Frost to a doubled over position…he’s underhooking the arms…HE’S GOING FOR THE JERSEY TURNPIKE!”

Riley: “10-1 odds say he can’t get him up.”

Z takes a deep breath and hunches down for leverage before flipping Frost up to rest on his right shoulder.

Riley: “Double or nothing says he can’t hold him.”

Z takes a crooked step, trying to maintain his balance and Frost slips out of his grasp and to the canvas.

Riley: “Pay up!”

Frost reaches up to take Z’s head around his arm and on his shoulder and snaps off a neckbreaker.

Stevens: “Regardless, Frost wasn’t thinking there and nailed Z on his bad shoulder. That might have hurt him more than his opponent.”

Frost rolls around on the mat, clenching his eyes tight to block out the pain. He finally sucks in a deep breath and scurries to make the cover.

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-

Stevens: “Kick out! Z had way too much time to recover.”

Riley: “Frost needs to take some of that time for himself, or pull off something fast to put this jerk away.”

Frost wraps his still strong left arm around Z’s upper chest and hooks him with a hand under his right shoulder. He dead lifts Z to his feet and pauses for a breather.

Riley: “ICE SHELF!”

Stevens: “Z COUNTERS!”

Z steps around Frost’s leg to hook it with his own, readjusts his arm and flings the man down face first with a reverse Russian leg sweep. Both men lay comatose as the ref starts the double count out.

(ONE)

Stevens: “Desperation move by Z, but neither man will say die!”

(TWO)

Riley: “Z doesn’t have to say die, he just has to do it.”

(THREE)

Both combatants roll onto their sides facing away from each other, chests heaving in struggling for air, sweat dripping off their brows. (FOUR) Frost rolls into the ropes, while Z flops to his gut and crawls. (FIVE) Frost reaches up to takes the top rope, but lets go when another blast of pain rocks his shoulder. (SIX) Z plods up to his hands and knees and lets his head hang limply down, he puts a weak hand on the near second rope. (SEVEN) Frost reaches across his body with his left arm to grab the cord and pulls himself to a semi-kneeling position. (EIGHT) Z grips the rope with a second hand and digs deep to muster the energy to rise. (NINE) Frost gets one leg beneath him and slowly brings up the other as Z forces himself up right and stumbles back.

Stevens: “Whoever can take the advantage here will certainly pull out the win.”

Frost staggers upright and lunges forward. Z cracks out a superkick!

Riley: “AS THE WOMEN SAY, Z COMES UP SHORT!”

Z misjudged the distance and strikes nothing but the air an inch in front of Frost’s nose on the Blizzard of Oz! Frost swats the leg away with his left arm and Z twirls around in a circle. When he faces front once more, Frost snatches his neck with his left arm and crisply rips him off the mat and jackhammers him down with a choke slam! Frost crumples on top of Z.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

DING DING DING

Funyon: “Here is your winner by pinfall…FRRRRROOOOOOOOSSSSSSSSSST!”

Stevens: “A choke slam out of nowhere by Frost! It was sloppy being from the left arm, but effective and the Velvet Fog gets the hard fought duke.”

Riley: “Whew! That’s six hundred bucks I don’t have to pay my bookie.”

The two warriors lay passed out in the ring as the camera fades to break.

September 14, 2002

The fans are still on their feet and cheering at the end of Frost/Z, filling their hearts with action. The camera heads deep into the backstage area, finally closing in on the locker room of Creative Control. Loud noises can be heard, most notably the connection of fist and steel. The camera gets inside the room, and sees two giant sized knuckle prints into the locker. It finally catches a glimpse of Lerrin Breggan destroying the locker room as Bo and JD watch on.

Breggan: “I can’t believe I am in another god damn tag match!”

Finally seeing the opportunity to speak.

Jamie: “Easy killer. I figured you would react this way… we need you to do something.”

Breggan: “JD… I helped you guys destroy the Clan last week, I have paid my dues. I have gone head to head with the best and won more then lost!”

Jamie: “You are extremely talented my friend… but dammit! You need to use your anger to your fucking advantage! Look at me and Bo, we use it to hurt the opponent, not lose us bloody matches and let our opponents get the best of us! Every fucking time on Smarkdown, the second you lost your temper, Thoth and Silent ate you alive! And they are not the first! You have more fucking talent in that pinky fingernail, then half the league does all over! But it’s useless when you don’t have any god damn focus!”

Breggan: “What are you fucking getting at.”

Silence fills the room as JD takes a breath. He looks over to Bo, who is semi puzzled himself.

Jamie: “I want you to take a break from the WF. Until you refine your skills. With your determination, it wouldn’t take more then a month.”

Breggan: “That’s bullshit and you know it!”

Jamie: “Maybe… but one month so you can be the best is far better then you losing and humiliating Creative Control! Do you understand?”

Breggan: “But what about Bo. He needs a tag partner tonight.”

Jamie: “Bo is fine. He can take those bitches on by himself, plus we have something set up anyway. Now… do you understand?”

Breggan: “No! I am better then half this league anyway! I am not leaving! So what do you think of that… buddy!”

Breggan directs his statement with a finger shove to Jay Dawg’s left pec. JD looks down at his chest and then looks up to Breggan. He shakes his head.

Jamie: “No one in this stable hates you. We want you to be the best. But don’t you EVER pull this shit again.”

Breggan: “I ain’t going to the fucking JL!”

Jamie: “No one said you were. You are going down to a minor league for the training. When you come back, you will be one of the best. Now… Do you understand?”

Breggan takes a deep breath before nodding affirmatively.

Breggan: “Yes. I understand.”

Jamie: “Good. Now I want you to leave. Stubby has everything booked for you.”

Breggan takes another deep breath and nods in approval. Anger is still evident over the face of Breggan. He walks out of the door and JD turns over to Bo, who surprisingly remained silent the whole time.

Bo: “So you think all will be well?”

Jamie: “Yeah. Anyway, about the match, here’s what we will do.”

JD turns to the cameraman.

Jamie: “Out… now!”

The cameraman leaves but the lockerroom can still be heard for a half a second.

Jamie: “Ok… here’s the plan…”

But we cut to a commercial because anything else just wouldn’t be the SWF!”

September 14, 2002

"On our last episode of Storm, El Luchadore Magnifico won the Smarks Wrestling Federation Heavyweight championship for the second time in his illustrious career!" Mark Stevens says as we come back from a short commercial creak, slowly fading in on Stevens, looking happy as he delivers his short speech. "On Smarkdown, the Carnival showed they were still going strong, in the hands of a new leader! And now on another fantastic episode of Storm..."

Stevens pauses as the screen begins to garble, becoming fuzzy and distorted. Everything is in black and white as terrible images of war, riots and destruction litter the screen, lighting up the fans eyes as they watch on... Suddenly, the picture turns black, nothing can be seen...

"Magnifico will face this man, in his first match since becoming champ, and prove that he deserves to wear the gold, and that the Carnival is eternal!"

"Oh brother..." Riley groans.

A few seconds later, as the camera shows the entranceway, strobe lights flashing, everything still under a shade of black, white and grey, as "Save Yourself" By Stabbing Westward kicks up, and Sacred appears without a fuss, walking straight out from behind the curtain, and storming down the ramp, not bothering to acknowledge the crowd as they spew terribly insults directed squarely at him.

"Sacred's only out here for once reason, to win, and do it in the most violent way possible." Riley says, grinning slightly. "He's got to be disgusted at the Carnival's little love fest on Smarkdown, I know I was..."

"C'mon Riley, it was a beautiful moment! Edwin giving Magnifico his blessing, Z gaining the leadership, I loved it!" Stevens exclaims.

"Blah, blah, blah, I don't care! I have never cared for the Carnival, and listening to you making them out to be gods gift to the wrestling world is sickening!"

Sacred spits on the steel ramp as he continues down to ringside, sliding into the ring and springing to his feet. He turns around and stands with arms to his sides, completely still as he stares at the entranceway, completely ignoring everything around him as Funyon gets on the mic and booms: "The following match is a singles match! And it is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Adelaide, Australia. Standing six foot one and weighing two hundred and thirty one pounds, he is a member of Creative Control... Give it up, for SACRED!"

The fans do nothing of the sort, booing loudly as they watch the ring, watch Sacred focus and concentrate as he waits patiently for his opponent...

"UNO! DOS! TRES! CUATRO!"

A Mexican voice blares over the P.A, suddenly breaking Sacred's concentration, and causing the fans to pop so loudly, Riley blocks his ears and shakes his head, while Stevens just laughs and nods approvingly. A burst of bright orange pyro bursts from the entranceway after each word, as "Mission Trip to Mexico" by Bunch of Believers kicks up, sending the fans into an even bigger frenzy. El Luchadore Magnifico triumphantly makes his way out, running down the ramp way, wearing the world title around his waist with pride, and waving the Mexican flag with joy.

"Here he is! YOUR SWF World Champion, and all round good guy!" Stevens says excitingly.

"You just love your Carnie's don't you?" Riley asks spitefully.

"Of course, they are the most exciting, entertaining, and talented group of people in wrestling today, and yesterday for that matter, and Magnifico will make a fine, upstanding champion! ... Again."

Magnifico's smile decreases just a little as Sacred looks down at him, a look of resentment on his face. Magnifico slides into the ring beside Sacred and gets to his feet, standing as tall as a five foot Mexican Luchadore can. He shows no fear as he glares at Sacred, before handing his title to the referee. Funyon proudly gets on the mic for his big spiel...

"And his opponent, from Mexico City. He stands five foot eleven, and weighs a modest one hundred and ninety three pounds... He is a member of the Midnight Carnival, and also the SWF Heavyweight Champion of the World!" The fans cheers burst out even before Funyon calls out... "He is E.L.M, EL LUCHADORE MAGNIFICO!"

And now the fans cheer the hardest they have all night for the champ, who responds with a bow and a huge smile. Sacred still faces the entranceway, but his head is jerked to the side, wearily watching Magnifico as he soaks up the crowd's cheers like a lap dog. Sacred just shakes his head and turns around as Funyon leaves the ring, and so does the championship. Both men turn to face each other as the crowd's noise slowly starts to build again as they await the "Ding, Ding, Ding!" Of the ring bell, indicating the start of the match!

"And here we go!" Stevens yells. "Magnifico's high flying prowess meets Sacred's technical, and often brutal style. We've seen Sacred gain an advantage in his matches, finding a spot on his opponent’s body and constantly working on it. Magnifico should be weary of this, and try and avoid it at all costs."

"Strangler's knee, Renegade's arm, Sacred has fucked them up good, but Magnifico *is* the champ, so no doubt he'll watch for all his opponents strategies." Riley replies.

Sacred cracks a slight smile as he and Magnifico circle each other. Magnifico smiles as well as the crowd intensity builds the anticipation killing them. ELM makes the first move, swinging with a wild right hands, but Sacred ducks it. Sacred fires a forearm, followed by another, before whipping Magnifico into the ropes. ELM comes back, leaping upwards and locking on a flying Headcissors, trying to take Sacred down to the mat, but Sacred manages to grab hold of Magnifico and lift him up into the air, trying to slam the Luchadore down face first, but Magnifico rolls under Sacred at the last second in a modified Hurricanrana, reaches back and grabs his leg, rolling him up for a pinning attempt!

O

N - But Sacred kicks out straight away, and is back on his feet in a second or two. "Exciting start, Magnifico already showing his high flying capabilities!" Sacred grunts and charges at the Luchadore, extending his arm for a clothesline, but Magnifico ducks, grabbing the Aussie's arm on the way through. Magnifico quickly turns Sacred around and twists his arm around, looking for Chicken Wing Jaw Breaker! "Montezuma's revenge!" Riley yells. Sacred quickly counters, reversing the arm lock, putting on of his own on Magnifico and then wrapping his arm around his head, turning around and slamming Magnifico on his back! Sacred scurries over for the cover as the crowd boos.

O

N

E

- But Only a one count as Magnifico kicks out. "A great move, countered into another great move! The Knifey Spoony!" Stevens says. Magnifico pops straight back up though, but Sacred meets him with some stiff forearms, hitting him back into a corner. Sacred rears back and, "Whoo!" brings his arm across Mag's chest with a knife edge chop. "Whoo!" HE hits another, but Magnifico has had enough, and turns the tables, spinning Sacred around into the corner and, '"Whoo!" Hitting a chop of his own! "Whoo! Whoo!" A few more make Sacred's chest beet red, as Magnifico whips Sacred across the ropes, but it's reversed, and Magnifico is sent towards the ropes. Magnifico leaps up onto the top rope using tremendous agility, and then performs a back flip, coming down towards Sacred with a Corkscrew Moonsault... But Sacred grabs Magnifico as he comes down, using his momentum against him, and performs a back body suplex on he canvas!

"Speaking off counters, how did he do that!?" Riley asks. "Grabbed Magnifico in mid air and fell backward, slamming the champion hard." Magnifico rolls up, holding the back of his head, as Sacred counts his lucky stars. Sacred crawls over and turns Mag on his stomach, wrapping his ankles around the champions, and then grabbing one of Magnifico's arms and pulling back on it. Sacred tries to grasp hold of the other, but Magnifico shrugs Sacred off. The Aussie delivers a well placed punch to Mag's side and winds him, allowing him to grab his other wrist. Sacred looks up at the fans and shows off a grin, as he pulls back and lifts Magnifico into the air with a Mexican Surfboard! "A Mexican in the Mexican Surfboard! Oh the irony!" Riley yells with a chuckle afterwards.

"Oh very funny..." Stevens dismisses. "A great move by Sacred, with a submission that puts pressure on the mid to lower back on Magnifico, but that cunning Mexican will surely know a counter." Magnifico shuts his eyes and cringes as Sacred pushes upwards still, putting an extreme amount of pressure on Magnifico. The ref slides over to check on the champion, but before he can, Mag makes his move, wrenching his arms free from Sacred's grasp and is flung forward his ankle's still wrapped around Sacred's. Magnifico protects himself, putting his hands forward and avoiding and contact. Magnifico turns onto his back, slowly but surely turning Sacred onto his stomach. Magnifico leans forward and grabs Sacred's arms, lifting him up into his own Mexican surfboard! Riley looks over at Stevens with a puzzled look, as Stevens replies, "Don't ask, I have no idea how he did that..."

Sacred yells out in pain as Magnifico gleefully puts on the hold. The fans cheer as Magnifico causes Sacred to yell some more, trying to get him to submit, but Sacred gets one arm free, and clutches onto the second rope nearby. Magnifico lets go of the hold, and the two men slowly get to their feet. Magnifico tries to whip Sacred into the ropes, but Sacred reverses it again. Sacred rolls onto his back and digs his boots into Magnifico's stomach, trying for a monkey flip, but the Mexican lands on his feet! Before Mag can act, Sacred rolls back towards him and gets to his feet. He lifts Mag up onto his shoulders with a fireman’s carry, and throws the Luchadore off his shoulders, trying for an F5 on his much smaller opponent! But Magnifico turns it into an Arm Drag at the very last moment! Sacred hits, but manages to get back onto his feet, but Magnifico is on him like a hawk, running halfway across the ring and catching him with a cross body, sending Sacred over the top rope! Magnifico lands on the ring apron and slides back into the ring, as Sacred holds his back after hitting very hard. The fans nearby give him hell for it obviously.

Magnifico laughs and raises his arm, and the fans respond with a rousing cheer! Magnifico smiles, and then backs into the ropes, running across the ring once again, leaping over the ropes with a somersault flip, landing on Sacred's shoulders! Sacred acts like lightning, backing backwards and ducking his body, throwing Magnifico jaw first on the guardrail! "Oh my..." Stevens says, gasping at the chaos in front of him. "Magnifico's high flying exploits backfired big time, I could hear that hit from over here..." "So could I! Wasn't it great!" Riley exclaims, obviously happy. Magnifico slumps onto the concrete, holding his jaw and yelling out in pain, while Sacred just smiles, breathing heavily, sweat pouring down his face, but he's smiling. He lifts Magnifico onto his feet before he has anytime to recover and whips him across the outside, head first into the steel steps!

"Magnifico sure does love the steel..." Riley jokes with a smirk. "Oh Shutup will you?" Stevens replies, tired of Riley's negativity. The top steps go bouncing away as Magnifico keeps hold of his jaw, as Sacred saunters over, wiping his brow, taking a few shots at Magnifico's jaw with his black boots, before lifting him up and sliding him back into the ring. "Sacred's confident now that he's found a weak spot to exploit." Stevens says glumly. "Damn bastard..." He curses. Sacred steps back onto the ring apron as Magnifico keeps rolling, pain shooting through his jaw. Sacred climbs the turnbuckles from the apron and looks down at the champion, that undeniable grin on his face. His blue eyes twinkle in the spotlight as he jumps off, with his elbow outstretched, connecting with a flying elbow! The ring shakes as Sacred lands, and the fans boo as he hooks Magnifico by the leg!

O

N

E

-

T

W - but the resilient Magnifico kicks out, infuriating the Australian. "Sacred's confident all right, but anything he dishes out, Magnifico can take, and then respond with ten fold!" Stevens says happily. "But Sacred is as intelligent wrestler as I have ever seen..." Riley notes. "He's been around longer than Magnifico, he knows all the tricks to regain the advantage." Magnifico rolls over to the turnbuckles. Sacred immediately gets to his feet and charges over, stomping away at Magnifico's chest as the fans support of Magnifico grows louder with every shot. "Magnifico! Magnifico! Magnifico!" They all cheer in unison, as Sacred grabs him by the head and pulls him forward lifelessly. Sacred looks down at Magnifico, face down, looking straight ahead. Sacred walks around the ring, taking his time as the fans boo his cocky attitude, but continuously clap for Magnifico. Sacred shoots a sideways glance to the camera, flashing a diabolical smile, before turning back to Magnifico and bolting across the ring, beginning to slide...

"No... No! He could break his neck from the impact!" Stevens yells in protest. "Do something Mag, you have to!" As Sacred slides forward, aiming directly for the Luchadore's head with a baseball slide, Magnifico suddenly springs onto all fours and lets Sacred pass underneath him! Sacred continues to slide, before crotching himself on the steel ring post! "What... how?" Riley says, watching the replay in disbelief. "I don't know how he did it, but I'm glad he did whatever he did!" Magnifico shoots a cheesy smile at Sacred as he peers underneath him, still perched on all fours, as Sacred cries out, in pain after knackering (Aussie slang if you didn’t know.) himself on the post. Magnifico leaps to his feet and steps out onto the apron. He places his hands on top rope, before leaping over the top and hitting Sacred on the back of the head with a slingshot leg drop!

The fans wave their arms and cheer as the plucky Mexican gains some momentum, as Sacred crawls forward, still feeling pain in his nether regions. He slowly gets to his feet, but a Magnifico spinning heel kick sends him back down to the canvas. Magnifico presses his arms into Sacred's chest and pins his shoulders to the mat.

O

N

E

-

T

W

O

- But Sacred rolls a shoulder up after two, leaving the fans severely disappointed. Magnifico doesn't frown however, as he gets to his feet and runs across to the ropes, jumping up onto the second rope and going through the air with a back flip, looking for a Lionsault... but Sacred rolls up and drives his knees into Magnifico's stomach! Magnifico is on his knees, clutching his stomach as Sacred quickly climbs to his feet. Sacred measures the champion, hopping forward, a standing side kick coming towards Magnifico! But the champion grabs Sacred's foot, and the Aussie is left hopping on one foot, until Magnifico spins him around and gets to his feet. Sacred turns to face the Luchadore, but Mag quickly leaps onto Sacred's shoulders and flips over, nailing Sacred with a Hurricanrana! "Magnifico possesses some explosive energy when he gets going!" Stevens yells. "A beautiful Hurricanrana, and now a pin!"

O

N

E

-

T

W

O - But Sacred rolls a shoulder up yet again, and this time, Magnifico is a little bit frustrated, pleading to the referee for a three count. Sacred whirls back onto his feet, but then stumbles around, having constant head spins, and he didn't even go into Stubby's office before the match. Magnifico attacks Sacred's midsection with some sharp kicks, alternating between lefts and rights, roundhouses and straight kicks. Magnifico leaps up and grabs around Sacred's neck, spinning him around in a half circle, looking for a Tornado DDT! But Sacred plonks Magnifico down on the mat, putting on the breaks, before lifting Magnifico up in the air and slamming him down on his back with the Spanish Inquisition! "A desperate move, somehow he has to continue the offence, or the champ will walk all over him!" Riley yells, worryingly.

The crowd rises to their feet as they watch intently, the referee holding up his arms and counting...

"One!" No sign of movement from either man however.

"Two!"

"Three!"

"Four!" Magnifico groans as he gets onto all fours, listening to the fans chant his name as he tries to get to his feet.

"Five!" Sacred fights his way onto one knee, holding his head in pain...

"Six!" Stevens yells, "The man to get up first just has t have the advantage!" Riley replies, "Well of course! This ain't Rocket Science..."

"Seven!" Finally, Magnifico climbs back onto his feet. Sacred gets to his feet also, and stumbles over to the champion, swinging wildly with a clothesline, not quite knowing where Magnifico is. The Luchadore ducks it, and locks on a Cobra Clutch! Sacred replies immediately, grabbing Magnifico by the head and dropping down crushing Mag's jaw onto the Aussie's shoulder! "There we go! Sacred using Magnifico's to its fullest advantage, and just when it looked like Magnifico would dominate, Sacred pulls out a quick stunner to reverse the momentum! Magnifico bounces back to his feet after the Stunner, still... stunned, as he stumbles back towards Sacred, who ducks his head and lifts the champion up onto his shoulders. Sacred lets Magnifico dangle there a little while, before pulling his arms into Magnifico’s legs and pushing him forward, slamming him down with the Black Number One Spinebuster!

"An suddenly, the champion is in a helluva lot of trouble!" Riley yells. Sacred drops his boy wearily onto Magnifico's, the crowd shouting "No!" as he presses his shoulders to the mat...

O

N

E

-

T

W

O

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T

H

R - But Magnifico kicks out, and the fans go crazy! "The little Mexican just will not lay down, and Sacred is fuming by the looks of it.!" Stevens cries. Sacred slams his fist on the mat in frustration, as he watches Magnifico roll away and use the ropes to try and get to his feet. Sacred growls as he lowers his head, measuring the champion once again. He flies across the ring, trying to Kamikaze Magnifico right out of the ring, but Magnifico drops his body to the canvas and Sacred flies through the second ropes and down to the outside! "So many momentum swings! All Magnifico had to do to gain the upper hand was to simply duck and Sacred will pay for his impatience!" Riley says glumly. The fans cheer as they watch Magnifico use the ropes to climb to his feet. He looks outside the ring at Sacred, who covers his head as he tries to get up, shaken and bruised from his fall. The Luchadore manages to flash a quick smile before running to the opposite ropes, and running back towards Sacred, leaping onto the top rope and then spring off to the outside, getting mucho hang time as he comes down on Sacred with a suicide plancha!

"That was a big risk from Magnifico..." Stevens comments. "But it payed off in the end, Sacred is on dream street! Magnifico needs one more move to put the nail in the coffin!" Riley grunts, "Damn little immigrant, he's gonna win again! Sacred should have attacked his jaw more, or he wouldn't even be in this situation!" Stevens replies, "Good point you make there, Magnifico's jaw is obviously still hurting, but Sacred hasn't been able to attack it with the ferocity that he has before, and that all comes back to Magnifico's skill and awareness."

The Mexican slides Sacred back into the ring, and then steps onto the ring apron, putting his hands on the top rope once again and acknowledging the crowd by raising his arm and whirling it around, Mag slips into the ring and turns around, facing the fans and nodding his head and he leaps up to the top rope, bounces off with this thighs and comes down with a slip legged moonsault! "Even after a gruelling match, he can still bust out moves like this. He's just amazing." Stevens says with a dumbfounded look. Magnifico sees the end is near, and slowly but surely climbs to the top rope, taking his time, listening to the fans roar with every step he takes. Magnifico stands on the top rope, looking down at his fallen opponent. He says his prayers, before flipping forward off the top rope, using amazing agility, coming down and hitting the shooting star press on the Australian!

"MEXCIAN PRIDE PRESS!" Riley and Stevens yell in unison. "This has to be it, how could you get up after this!?" Stevens asks, watching the in ring action intently. Magnifico nods his head as the referee bangs his palm on the mat, slowly... The fans chant along, confident Magnifico has it!

"O"

"N"

"E!"

-

"T"

"W"

"O!"

-

"T"

"H"

"R"

"E"

"E! ---" NOOO! Sacred's hand extends weakly and just touches the bottom rope! Magnifico jumps into the air and starts to celebrate, the fans on their feet cheering for the little Mexican, until the referee gets up and stops Magnifico's premature celebrations, stating it wasn't a three count. Magnifico just stares blankly at the referee and shakes his head, holding up three fingers and 'insisting' it was a three count. The fans are obviously disappointed as they boo viciously, the ref having to dodge several missiles, as Stevens shouts, "It couldn't be! That was an intentionally slow count, it had to be! How could Sacred have kicked out of that is beyond me!"

"Oh quit your whining Stevens, give Sacred a little more credit than that! He's one of the best we have, he won't lie down easily!" Riley retorts, stating his case. Stevens just continues shaking his head. Magnifico shouts in frustration, grabbing his head and shaking his head like Stevens. Behind him however, Sacred has somehow gotten onto his feet. Magnifico finally turns back to his Australian opponent, and suddenly freezes as he sees him on his feet. Sacred takes this opportunity to shuffle across the mat and connect with a side kick! Magnifico stumbles backward and hits the turnbuckles, making his way back to the centre of the ring, pain shooting through his jaw after the sharp kick!

"Magnifico took too long!" Riley yells with pleasure. "The champ made a rookie mistake, and Sacred, the bah gawd old hoss took advantage of it! What a sweet side kick!" As Magnifico returns, Sacred ducks to the side and brings him down to the mat with a drop toehold, causing him to hit his jaw once again. Sacred climbs on top of Magnifico's back and grabs his right leg, locking on a half-elevated Boston Crab! Or the, "Solution Nine!" Stevens cries. "Sacred used this manoeuvre to defeat the Boston Strangler, will it work again!?"

Magnifico cries out, gritting his teeth as Sacred sits lower, causing pain to drive up Mag's spinal cord, prompting more screams. The fans roar into life, trying to spur on their Mexican hero. It seems to work, as Magnifico slowly but surely crawls to the ropes... he looks at the bottom rope as if it were paradise, the pain becoming unbearable... he lunges... and grabs the bottom rope! He hops on one leg as he grabs the second rope, and then the top rope. Sacred turns around as Magnifico spins around with an Enziguri! But Sacred ducks it and Mag lands on his feet. Magnifico whips Sacred into the ropes... but it's reversed into a short arm knee lift! Sacred grabs hold of Magnifico's right arm and puts him in a front face lock, jumping into the air and kicking his legs out, falling forward, coming crashing to the mat with the...

"CRUEL FATE!" Stevens yells in almost horror. "The champion is down, and Sacred is just three seconds away from pinning him!" "YES!" Riley screams happily. "He got the Cruel Fate! Go my Australian friend, go! Cover him quickly!" Sacred is hurt from the recoil of the move, but he struggles over to Magnifico anyway, fighting through the pain. He pushes Magnifico onto his back and slumps an arm across his chest, as the referee slides over and makes the pin, the fans chanting along too, hoping Magnifico produces a miracle...

"O"

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"W"

"O!"

-

"T"

"H"

"R"

"E"

"E!!!" YES! Sacred wins, and the crowd explodes into boos as the bell rings and "Save Yourself" by Stabbing Westward kicks up. Sacred struggles onto his feet, the referee grabbing his arm and lifting it high into the air, proclaiming him the winner! Funyon gets on the mic from ringside, "The winner of this bout... SACRED!"

"It's non title! Yes! Thank god Sacred isn't champion!" Stevens yells, almost mockingly. "But this has got to be a shock to Magnifico's system, losing his first match after win the title! Sacred's sent a message tonight, people better stand up and take notice!" Riley gets to his feet and claps, weathering the rubbish thrown by the fans. "That's my boy Sacred! You show them who's in charge around here!"

Sacred swipes the title away from a ring attendant and slowly raises it into the air, that familiar, devious smile forming on his face. He throws the title on Magnifico's chest and slides out the ring, deeply satisfied as Magnifico is left lying in the middle of the ring...

"What a match! I won’t forget that one for a long time yet! But we still have so much more SWF action to come on Storm, so don't go away!"

"God bless Sacred!"

"Oh sit down!" Stevens tells his partner. "... Are you saluting?"

We fade outm watching Sacred back up the ramp, sweating profuously, so very tired, hurting like hell, but he smiles, confident he proved his worth here tonight ,and no one, not even the fans coul take that away from him...

Axis watches on the monitor and smiles as well, "Well done my old friend.." he says, walking away with a chuckle...

September 14, 2002

“…And we’re back on SWF Storm,” Mark Stevens announces, in case you’re mentally retarded and didn’t realise. “Tonight is one HELL of a show. I mean, look at the matches we’ve already had. Plus, look at the ones coming up!”

“Yeah, the show’s over, we get the idea,” Riley sighs.

“Well, just because I do my job, it doesn’t mean…”

Before Grand Slam can finish his sentence, he is interrupted by the blaring chords of Limp Bizkit’s “Nobody Like You”… The crowd rises to their feet, filling the air with their fists and cheers! The commentators sit in disbelief as they hear the music play, both of them looking at each other with confused looks.

“Surely not…” Riley begins.

“…That’s Axis’ music…” Stevens states. “But he hasn’t been seen out of his SJL commentary seat since last December…”

“Sure he has,” Riley replies, correcting his partner. “He was in those vignettes with Sacred last week.”

“Well fine – Axis hasn’t been seen in an SWF arena since December last year!”

“You can scrap that last statement, Mark.”

Axis appears at the top of the ramp, arms high in the air! He stands still for a few moments, amazed at the biggest response he’s ever heard in his entire career. And he hasn’t even done anything yet. He begins to make his way down to the ring, looking at the crowd in awe.

“Oh great,” Riley groans. “Looks like the big lug has got something to swear. I swear, this guy has the charisma of a potato chip…”

“Speaking of chips…” Riley uses the opportunity to flog some product. “Whenever I’m hungry, I eat Thins chips! They are thin, and have a unique taste!”

“For the love of…” Riley sighs. “They’re chips, how unique can they be?”

Axis steps into the ring, still in shock at the huge reaction he’s received. “Nobody Like You” begins to die down, as he is passed in a microphone from one of the stagehands. He raises the mic to his mouth, launching into his spiel.

“Hey people, miss me? Damn, a lot has happened in my absence… The roster is full of all the guys who I saw attempting to wrestle only a few months ago… Divefire is finally back… And, most amazingly, Jay Dawg is a champion…”

“Well, it’s only hardcore,” Riley points out. “It’s not like it actually means anything.”

“Anyway… I do have a reason for showing my face tonight. After being stuck behind the SJL commentary desk for so long, I’ve basically had a year off to clear my head. I think I’m ready to once again face the pressures of the Smarks Wrestling Federation!”

In a un-Axis like reaction, the crowd voices their approval. Well, you never can have too many good workers on the roster.

“Axis is back!” Stevens shouts. “Amazing! After coming oh so close to the World title numerous times in the last quarter of last year, the near 7 foot Aussie is back!”

“Hmm…” Riley ponders the thought for a moment. “Well, as long as he doesn’t become one of those damn carnies, I guess it can’t hurt. I mean, we have Ash on the roster, how can it get worse?”

“I realise this is where I belong, in active competition again, and I might finally gain that prize that has eluded my all through me career, and that is the SWF World Heavyweight championship!”

“And there’s no HVille Thugg around to stop him this time!” Stevens says with a chuckle.

I plan to make my big comeback at the biggest pay-per-view in a year… Genesis III. But I do have a problem… I have no opponent…”

The fans all turn their heads to the entranceway suddenly, and as if on queue, “Save Yourself” by Stabbing Westward kicks up. The crowd’s cheers turn to jeers, as Sacred, member of creative control extraordinaire, appears at the top of the ramp, mic in hand. The music dies down, but the jeers remain constant. Sacred looks around, bruising on his face after his match with Magnifico, he still looks dog-tired, but he stares a hole through Axis, who just chuckles to himself in the ring…

“…Well look who’s here,” Riley observes. “The two Aussies are out to have a conference.”

“Sacred has hit the ramp folks. These two have had a few encounters this week… It looks like Sacred’s got something to say about Axis’ return.” Stevens comments, watching the two men closely.

“What the hell are you doing back here?” Sacred demands.

“…” Axis is silent… Although a slight grin can be seen on his face.

“You think you can just come back here and be on the biggest pay-per-view of the year? Who the Hell do you think you are!? First, you come back and taunt me on Anna’s passing, god rest her soul…” Sacred says, closing his eyes and crossing his chest. He opens his eyes again and shouts, “Then you announce your comeback? What’s going on!?”

“Sacred…” Axis begins, “What’s your problem? I felt like the time was right for me to come back now… What’s your problem with that? Or do you want the spotlight all to yourself? Is only one Australian enough for this federation?”

“My problem is you.” Sacred replies calmly.. “Nobody, except the JL, which counts as nobody, has heard from you for eight odd months. You think that you can come back, without a single phone call, and tell me to get over my wife dying?

“Dude, it was months ago… You HAVE to move on with your life.” Axis says, as he has said before, but this time, he’s just blatantly trying to provoke a response from his former friend.

“No, I do not have to do anything. But I’ll tell you what I will do… Genesis III… You say you have no opponent? How about facing me? Giving me the chance to finally prove that I’m greater than you, that I deserve all the applause, and not you! Ever since we’ve known each other, you’ve thought you were better than I was! Just because you’re bigger, you thought that you were my superior! Well, you’re wrong, so terribly wrong, and I’ll prove that to you…”

“Heheh…” Axis chuckles to himself. “Just as I had expected…”

“What did you say?” Sacred asks, confused.

“Oh, nothing,” Axis replies. “Ok Sacred, you’re on for Genesis III. You and me, ONE ON ONE! But how about we make it interesting… How about… No disqualifications? You know… just for kicks…”

“Done...” Sacred replies coldly. “You just wait until Genesis, Axis…”

“Did you hear that Stevens?! Axis and Sacred, one on one at Genesis III!” Riley yells happily.

“… Of course I heard it, you think I’m deaf? Stop repeating everything…”

Axis waits for the crowd’s cheers to die down, but It takes a while. Both he and Sacred grin, but as their eyes meet, they soon lose their smiles. Axis adds, “And mate, let’s have this one on one, none of your Creative Control buddy’s can interfere… capeche?”

Sacred doesn’t have to think about it, “Fine with me…”

“I know I have seemed a little insensitive, but trust me, it’s for your own good man.”

“I don’t see how…” Sacred answers glumly.

“You were a whining bitch before I came back, I helped you. I did have ulterior motives, yes, but it just sickened me to see you how you were, and I know it sickens all these fans too.” The fans reply with a cheer, for being mentioned, and in support of Axis’ allegation.

“I don’t care any more, Axis… I don’t care what you have to say. I don’t care what the fans think either, I’m myself, I don’t care if people don’t like me, and I don’t care what you think of me. You’ve done some pretty bad things in your life too, or have you just conveniently forgot to remember…”

“That was a long time ago… it doesn’t matter now! We’ll sort this out at Genesis Sacred you and me, one time for all time. “ Axis says. “Finally I can beat some sense into you, and I know all these fans want someone to do that!”

More cheers from the crowd make Sacred even more bitter. “I have nothing else to say to you… See you at Genesis, friend…”

Sacred drops his mic and looks at Axis one more time, before turning around and heading behind the curtain. Axis drops his and slides out of the ring, thinking to himself for a moment, but brought back to reality as the fans cheer as “Nobody Like You” kicks up once again.

“It’s apparent that these two have lots to sort out, and they’ll do it the only way they know how… in an SWF ring, where we can make money off of it!”

“Riley!” Stevens groans. “This should be an emotionally charged match. Sacred and Axis both want to prove who is the better man, but they also have deeper personal issues to sort out. Either way, Genesis III is shaping up to be one of the biggest PPV’s ever! Stick around, more Storm after the break!”

The picture fades to black as Axis looks down at the steel ramp, thought crossing his mind as the fans cheer behind him, giving him a warm welcome back!

But it’s not such a pleasant way to return… not the way he wanted things to work out.

September 14, 2002

The camera circles around the capacity filled arena as we fade back in from commercial. Fading back to the commentators a split second later, Bobby Riley and “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens sit right before your eyes.

“We’ve seen some great action so far, and it only looks to get better now. Wouldn’t you agree Riley?”

“It’s hard to say. Magnifico vs. Sacred was incredible just now, but up next we’ve got Divefire vs. Mercury, and I think we all remember what happened the last time these two fought.”

“I’d have to agree. As the viewers know, Mercury defeated Divefire for his United Kingdom title the last time we saw these men in one on one action, in what was a thrilling match up. No title to put on the line this time around, but the rivalry still exists and with any luck, this will be one for the ages.”

“For a little bit of history to this match, the only place one must look is the IGNJL, where both of these men first appeared. Mercury formed BIO, the first ever JL group, and Divefire teamed with Dan Vigilante. They were soon pulled up to the IGNWF, where they were corporate villains for Jayson G, while Mercury assumed the identify of the Masked Apprentice and teamed with me, as we fought with Rane and the rest of the Phoenix Uprising against the evil corporate kids. This has the potential to be fast and furious, and dangerous if we’re lucky.”

“(Y)!”

“...?”

“/me punches Riley in the face”

Mark Stevens punches Riley in the face.

“What the fuck? You better lay off that internet slang, batty boy.”

“Pfft. You’re one to talk, Bobbi with an ‘i’.”

“...shut...the...fuck...up...”

“In any case.”

“...yeah.”

“...”

“Here’s Merc.”

The opening notes of "The Grudge" begin to blast over the PA system, eliciting a huge reaction from the crowd, albeit a negative one. As a video begins to roll on the Entrance screen, it focuses in on a cloak-bearing man standing on a green, treeless hill in the middle of a thunderstorm. Rain drops fall, each of their own accord, landing at their own destination as another falls to replace it. The camera begins to cycle around the figure slowly, accelerating slowly at each pass until a bolt of lightning strikes upon him from the heavens and he bursts into flames as the arena is filled with words...

Wear the grudge like a crown of negativity.

Calculate what we will or will not tolerate.

Desperate to control all and everything.

Unable to forgive your scarlet lettermen.

“Ladies and gentlemen...he represents the Magnificent Seven...standing at six feet, two inches tall, and weighing in at two hundred and thirty three pounds...he is the regenerate king...

Merrrrrrrcury!!!!!!!”

The lightless arena slowly begins to awaken as the stage begins to glow in a soft, orange light as a cloaked man walks out from underneath the screen. Hesitating a moment as he stops and peers down towards the ring, seconds pass, and the air stands still until he moves again. Slowly descending the ramp, his eyes are focused upon his destination...as he walks across, up the stairs, and finally steps foot inside the ring. Revealing himself, he tosses the cloak down to the timekeeper as the lights fade back up.

“He strikes me as a scary, psychotic kind of guy. What do you think, Mark?”

“Note to self: Don’t fuck with Merc.”

“In any case, we’ve heard rumors of another NTD sighting here tonight. Not sure when it’s supposed to happen, but what *I* heard is that the pantless wonder is sort of stalking Merc, so I wouldn’t be surprised to see him out here today.”

“Where’d you hear that one, the ladies bathroom?”

“I swear, Stevens...”

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch.”

“THAT’S IT!!!”

Riley tosses off his headset and lunges at Stevens, taking them both to the floor as feedback sets in on Mark’s headset. Riley starts to get back to his feet, and starts to pull up Stevens as he pulls him away from the announce table and into an open area. As Stevens gets to his feet, Riley takes a swing, but it’s blocked by Stevens, who pulls in Riley and knees him in the stomach. The crowd goes nuts as he signals for the walk-off, and they explode as he hits it, driving Riley’s face down into the ground with great force. Getting back up, he stares down at Riley with disdain, and goes back to his seat at the announce table as Riley scampers off into the back with his girly tail between his legs.

“Good riddance to a moron.”

Suddenly, the lights dim as “Amityville” by Eminem hits the loudspeakers, and the pantless wonder appears underneath the Smarktron. The crowd goes nuts as NTD waves to them as he ascends the ramp, making his way down to the announce table, and takes the seat of the absent Bobby Riley.

“Hey, looks like I’ve got another partner for this match. Toss on that headset.”

NTD pulls on the headset, and displays a wide smile for the world to see.

“To what do I owe this pleasure, Nathaniel?”

“Well, you know, there have been some rumors that I’m beginning to stalk the Magnificent Seven’s resident Regenerate...and that’s pretty much true. I’m fascinated by his ability to wear pants and not be weakened or tempted by their enticing offers. I plan to study him...to become more like him. There is only one man that can do what he can do...I can only pray that one day...my fear of pants will be overridden by the courage that he may give me. Plus, he’s pretty badass.”

“Well, I think we can all agree on that. But anyway, we’ve wasted enough time. Divefire’s queued to make his entrance, and heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere we go!”

The lights to the arena dim, letting stillness enter the building. Then the opening bars of the Vertical Limit mix of Linkin Park’s Points of Authority float out as the Smarktron lights up with well cut archive footage of Divefire delivering his own brand of patented kick ass action as the lyrics roll.

“Forfeit the game,

Stop the talk show,

Product of what,

You’re taught to know,

Forfeit the game,

‘Cuz tomorrow,

When it’s all done,

You reap what you sow!”

With a roar, fire pyro’s erupt from the stage, whiting out the entrance area for a second. As vision becomes a welcome commodity again, Divefire is moving down the ramp way, looking mean, moody and ready to kick the crap out someone or thing.

“Ladies and Gentlemen...hailing from England...standing at Five feet, eight inches tall, and weighing in at One hundred and ninety-two pounds...Diiiiiiiiiiiiiivefiiiiire!!!”

With a quick burst of speed he slides into the ring and gets into the center, waits a second then pumps his hands into the air, the four corner posts blasting flames high into the air to cut off the song and his entrance.

“Thanks, Funboy.”

“Anyway...they’re finally out here, that bastard Riley ran off, and Mercury is staring a damn hole through Divefire’s forehead! Bah God!”

“Divefire ain’t havin’ it, he’s headed right for the Regenerate! He must be filled with a lust full of rage...”

“Hah, it’s good to have you back.”

With that, the action begins. Divefire heads straight for Mercury, who is seemingly taunting him with the non-chalant, lackadaisical pose that he has undertaken. Staring back with a slight smirk, he waits until Divefire is mere feet from him, and then he strikes. Lifting his right foot onto the second ring rope, he pushes himself away from the ropes and into the air, altering his position in mid-air and striking Divefire with a swift kick to the side of the head. Divefire falls to a knee, but not to the mat. Merc lands softly on the mat and is quickly back on his feet. Spinning out of his daze, Divefire attempts one of his patented moves, the Fire Kick...but it’s countered when Mercury catches his foot above his shoulder, and laughs at him. He leaps into the air for an enziguri kick, but Divefire ducks underneath it and catches Merc with his legs around his neck, and quickly drops him to the mat with a....

“Reverse Powerbomb! My God, what a counter!”

“I’d have to agree, Mark. I haven’t seen a move like that since Craven Moorehead pulled it off in ‘76!”

“Uh, NTD....Riley’s not out here anymore.”

“Well God damnit!”

Divefire wastes little time rolling him over and into a pinning combination, as the referee is slow to get over to the mat to make the count...

One....

Two....

Th-kickout by Merc. Quickly back to his feet, Divefire pulls up Merc with him and irish whips him into the corner. Colliding with the post, Merc bounces off backwards, but Divefire grabs him from behind and sends him right back into the corner as hard as he can. He spins him around and begins a Fire combination!! He gets in a few punches and kicks before grabbing him and whipping him towards the other side...Merc counters with a whip of his own, but Divefire counters that, sending him right back into the corner that he was just in. Merc bounces off again, but Divefire is right behind him, locking him in a headlock...and spinning 180 degrees, to put that elbow right into the chest of his opponent. Mercury catches the elbow and counters it into a hammerlock, but Divefire uses his momentum to pull him into the air from behind, catching him mid-air and turning it into a diving reverse DDT! He holds it on for the cover, and here comes the ref for the count...

...one...

...two...

...just as the ref is about to count the three, he notices Mercury’s foot on the ropes and breaks the count. Divefire is a bit upset, but he only wastes a few moments. As he turns to attend to Mercury again, the Regenerate King baits Divefire in and as he gets closer, leaps to his feet, grabbing the off-guard Divefire and catching him with a knee to the face. Divefire falls back to the ropes, and Merc sees opportunity. Running to the opposite ropes to get momentum, he runs towards Divefire and baseball slides into him, taking his legs out from underneath him and punching him directly in the temple during his descent. Divefire falls...falls...to the mat. Pushing him out of the ring, Mercury grabs the top rope with his hands, putting his feet on the bottom rope, and springboards himself onto the top rope. Without stopping, he leaps into the air, doing a somersault while spinning sideways as he lands on the still down Divefire with a corkscrew plancha!

“Dear Lord, these men will stop at nothing to destroy each other! With the little action we’ve seen so far, this one seems to be every bit as good as we had hoped it would be.”

“And still, Divefire is down. Merc took a big risk with that corkscrew plancha, but the crowd sure appreciated it. That’s why they like watching these quote-unquote “wily” veterans, many of them have intense grudge against each other, and will do crazy things like that if it means a better shot at a victory.”

“I’ll agree to that, but Merc is slow to get up from that one, while Divefire is hardly moving at all down there.”

As Merc stumbles to his feet, he hazily looks out at the crowd, forming his arms into the X as they explode into cheers for the Regenerate King. Taking a moment or two to get his breath, he notices out of the corner of his eye that Divefire has begun to get to his feet, and turns his attention back to the match. Divefire doesn’t waste any time, swinging as fast as he can, and catching Merc with a low blow before he can do anything! He gets to his feet, and drops him with a Fire Kick as he looks with pure hatred down at Mercury, who holds his face from the impact. Divefire lifts him back up, and rolls him in the ring as he follows shortly behind. He awaits for the Regenerate King to get back to his feet, and they lock horns once more. Divefire goes for a clothesline, but Merc grabs his arm and gets up for a crucifix pin...which Divefire reverses, getting him up for a Death Valley Driver, while Merc counters again with a hard punch to the spine and a positioning change, locking Divefire’s hands as he falls down and dropping him to the mat with a Truth Serum!

“What great wrestling we’re seeing tonight, folks. NTD, what do you make of that last set of counters?”

“Well Mark, these men know each other in the ring extremely well, and I think it’s pretty obvious when you watch them fight. They anticipate each other’s every move. Ultimately though, one man has to come out on top, and Mercury use his position right there to bring Divefire to his proverbial knees.”

“And what’s more, it seems like Mercury might be focusing on Divefire’s head, perhaps trying to give him a concussion or something along those lines.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it Mark, I really wouldn’t.”

Merc moves over to the side of Divefire, grabbing his arm into a simple arm-lock, while he elbows him in the back of the head. Wrenching back on that shoulder, the ref comes over to check on Divefire...to make sure that he can continue. The Regenerate King doesn’t wait for that though, breaking the hold...and quickly applying another. He lifts him off of his back, and pulls up his arm, putting him into a triangle hold and locking it as tight as can be. Divefire begins to squirm, but he can’t get out. He wriggles around for a few moments, and then seemingly gives up...and just then, he rolls himself backwards, putting Mercury’s shoulders square onto the mat, and getting a pinning count!

One...

Two...

Mercury breaks the hold to avoid the loss, and both men are quickly back to their feet. Divefire takes a swing, and connects with Merc’s jaw, and Mercury counters with a punch of his own. There’s another from Divefire. Another from Mercury. Another from Divefire. Another from Mercury, but Divefire catches the arm and, putting his other arm behind the elbow, jerks Mercury’s arm behind him and drops him to the mat with his own reflexes. Rolling him onto his stomach, Divefire begins to apply a seldom used move...Afterburn. Just as he puts his foot onto the back of Mercury’s knee, but Regenerate King comes back to life, rolling back onto his back and twisting Divefire’s foot, dropping him to the mat. Both men kip up, and Divefire goes for a clothesline, which Mercury ducks under and heads for the ropes. Bouncing off of them, he heads directly back for Divefire, who choreographs a back body drop. Mercury stops short and kicks Divefire in the chest, forcing him back up, and leaps up and around his shoulders, falls back, and sends Divefire to the mat with a hurricanranna!

“You know Mark, it feels good to be back out here watching the action from ringside. I think I’ll maybe show up in every match that Mercury has from now on, just for the hell of it.”

“Nice way to set up a storyline, NTD. You truly are the master.”

“Hehe. Well, that’s what they say. Except for Curry, that rat bastard...”

Mercury is quickly back to his feet and he hooks the leg of Divefire for the cover...

One...

Two...

Thre-no! Divefire kicks out at the last second, saving himself from a loss by fraction of an inch. Showing signs of frustration, Merc glares at the referee for a moment before getting back to business. Punching Divefire thrice in the face for good measure, and then grabs a leg, rolling him onto his back and putting on a step-over toe-hold face-lock.

“STF! This is a move we’ve seen Mercury use many times in the past, more frequently when he was in the JL and when he first came to the IGNWF, where he made an impact. Hopefully, with all of his injuries and whatnot healed, he’ll be able to regain his lost form.”

“I hope so, NTD, but you’ve gotta believe that the enemies of the M-7, which is pretty much anyone, would much rather him remain a shadow of his former self, rather than the dangerous individual that he once was.”

Merc begins to wrench away with that STF, and Divefire does not scream, but the pain is quite evident upon his face. He reaches out his arm as far as he can to try and reach a rope, but to no avail. He begins moving so as to try and get to a rope with momentum. Little by little he begins to get closer, and soon he is but a few inches away from the ropes. He keeps reaching...he’s got a fingertip on the bottom rope...and he’s got it! The referee commands Mercury to let go of the hold, and he does so, but then immediately punches Divefire in the back of the head and pulls him back to the middle of the ring.

“I don’t like how this is going for Divefire, Mark.”

“Neither do I, but don’t count him out. Uh oh, Merc’s going up top. Might be trouble.”

Mercury immediately heads for the corner, ascending the ropes and turns around to peer down at the still downed Divefire. Sighing to himself he closes his eyes for a moment and then leaps into the air, flipping himself forward and twisting, then landing on Divefire with a Cloud 9 corkscrew splash. He hits hard, sending himself bouncing up off of the mat, and falls to the side of his opponent, landing on his back and remaining motionless for a few moments. Both men stare up at the ceiling as the crowd pleads with them to get back to their feet to continue this tremendous match, and suddenly, it appears that a fuse is lit in both of their eyes as Mercury says something to Divefire, and Divefire responds in turn. Both comments are inaudible. Divefire begins to get to his feet as Mercury lies still for a moment later, taking in the atmosphere before he starts to pull himself back up. As is his style, he makes his way to the ropes and pulls himself up with their aide, as Divefire attempts to get to his feet on his own, only to fall back into the ropes and have to grab onto them to remain on his feet. They take a moment, and then charge at each other. Divefire attempts a clothesline, which Mercury ducks underneath, and as they return for a second charge, Mercury choreographs a back body drop, but Divefire slides underneath him and attempts to punch him while off guard, but Mercury dives out of the way and rolls back to his feet as Divefire stands up once again. They circle each other and lock up on the inside. Mercury attempts a hip toss, but Divefire spins out of it and falls to the mat with a neckbreaker.

“They’ve clearly got something left in their tanks, Mark. They really are putting on a great show for these fans. Hatred or love, flawless fighting like this is what it’s all about.”

“Just brings a tear to your eye, eh NTD?”

“Yeah, it really does...wait...no, that’s your pants. I just really, really hate pants.”

“They don’t bite, NTD.”

“Oh no Mark, they do......”

Pause.

“...they do.”

“Yeah, whatever Nathaniel.”

Merc grabs his neck from the impact, and Divefire grabs his in turn, dizzy from the damage done early on in the match. They get back to their feet as quickly as they can, and they’re at it again. Merc reaches for Divefire’s leg, but he pulls back and they begin to circle one another once more. They lock up, and Divefire headbutt’s Mercury, causing him to stumble backwards, a bit stunned. Taking advantage of the split second, Divefire hits a whirlwind dropkick, but botches the ending as his foot slips from underneath him, and he has a hard landing on the mat. Mercury is sent back into the turnbuckle from the force of the kick, and he struggles just to remain on his feet as Divefire writhes in pain on the mat. Shaking out the cobwebs, Divefire struggles to his feet as Mercury cautiously leaves his corner and they come face to face...eye to eye...man to man. Divefire pushes Mercury, who catches himself with his foot behind him, and pushes back. Before long, they’re tumbling to the mat with a flurry of lefts and rights, and they roll out of the ring, taking the fight to the outside. They get back up and Divefire knees Mercury in the stomach, then irish whips him into the barrier. Merc tries to stop his momentum but to no avail, as the base of his spine connects and he yelps in pain. Divefire laughs at his fallen opponent, but not for long. Soon he rushes towards the Regenerate King, running up onto the stairs and leaping off of them into the air, attempting a suicide plancha on him...but Merc is up...he catches him, and counters with a powerbomb! He releases Divefire after the impact, and both men fall to the ground in a crumpled, beaten mass.

“Dear God! Did you hear the impact of that powerbomb?! I’m surprised these men can still stand!!!!!!!”

“Yeah, it was brutal NTD, but why are you screaming? We’ve got headsets with microphones...”

“Oh, right, hehe.”

As the men lie on the ground, motionless, the Smarktron comes to life with live footage from the backstage. We see a disgruntled Bobby Riley running down the hall, but we’re not sure who he’s running from. As the camera pans to see his pursuer, we see a man in a paintball mask, holding a paintball gun in his hand, and firing off rounds at Riley as he runs down the hall.

“Is that..who I think it is?”

“I believe it is! Ladies and gentlemen, that’s the fabled paintballer from the IGNJL!!”

A few more rounds are fired, and we hear Bobby Riley scream in the distance as the feed cuts off. Divefire and Mercury are barely back to their feet, rolling back into the ring as they get back to their feet one more time. Divefire locks horns with Mercury, and an irish whip sends Mercury towards the ropes yet again. He ricochets off and heads straight for Divefire. Merc attempts a clothesline, and Divefire ducks under it, and they both spin around. Divefire catches Merc in the face with a quick punch, and grabs his arm to pull him in. Merc counters it into hammerlock, and spins him further...he locks on the front face-lock, and drops him to the mat with the Pipedream!!!

“!!!”

“With the focus that Mercury has put on Divefire’s head tonight, I think that’s gonna be all she wrote.”

Merc rolls him over for the cover and exhaustedly hooks the leg as the referee dives in to make the count...

One...

Two....

Three!!!

“And here is your winner, Meerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrcury!!!”

“Well, that’s all for me Mark, I’ve gotta head out. Give my regards to Bobby.”

“Will do, NTD. He should be back out here any minute, and we’ll be right back.”

The camera pans out while still shooting the ring as both men still lie virtually motionless in the ring and we fade out to commercial.

September 14, 2002

"That Divefire, Mercury match was incredible. It's such ashame that two fine men, had to perform such little time. I wish they fight each other on the Pay Per View," Riley hopes.

"It was ashame that it was a short match, but a longer match would be better...for different purposes though," Grand Slam replies.

"Are you?" Riley nervously asks.

"No." Grand Slam replies bluntly.

"Back to the show now, sold out in Las Vegas, the team of Xero and Ash Ketchum will be up against Stubby's favourite people, in Perfect Bo and Lerrin Breggan, who definitly know how to kick ass. Just like how Xero and Ash can receive a good ass kicking by M7." Grand Slam jokes.

"Xero and Ash has to back to the fundemental's in to beat the two big powerful men. Hit the basics to wear down the opponent and focus on one wrestler," Riley speaks his strategy.

"Lately Ash and Xero have been going after the tag team belts that are being carried by Chili Chili Bang Bang. This would be their first tag team match

together not including the Six man tag couple show back," Grand Slam states.

"And basically the winner of this match is almost guaranteed a tag team title shot at the Pay Per-View in the coming weeks against Chili Chili Bang Bang."

The arena lights are turned off, as intro of Master of Puppets is being played. After a few seconds of Master of Puppets, the music fades out. BANG, BANG BANG!!! Fireworks explode as the Pokemon theme starts up. Ash and Xero walk out from the back and head towards the ring.

"I thought I would never see this, but Xero and Ash Ketchum, despite all of their hatred, they have decided to make a team, but can they last a tag match together?" Grand Slam ponders.

"Introducing first in this tag team match up, at a combined weight of Four Hundred, Fifty-Seven pounds. The team of Xero and Ash...KETCHUM!!!" Funyon announces the tag team for the first time.

Ash jumping up and down heading towards the ring, as Xero walks calmly, obviously not happy at what he is doing. Xero slides into the ring, while Ash is clapping his hands, pumping up the Vegas crowd.

The Vegas lights dim down, but not completly out. On the Smarktron, it shows Perfect Bo on the screen.

"I will not fall, I will stand tall, ya all are underneath me," Bo cites the phrase.

A large explosion happens in the middle of the stage, as Bo appears after the mist of the explosion with a mic in his hands.

"I'm from the home of Nine eleven, the place of the lost towers, regardless of that we will never lose power," Bo finishes as "New York City" by Cam'ron and Jay-Z is being played. Bo stands to the side as-

"ITS JAY DAWG!!!" shouts out Riley. "I thought it was suppose to be that russian guy...um Lerrin Breggan with Bo,"

"I've been just told that Lerrin has not showed up yet to the arena. By what Stubby and King of Hearts are saying, last time they saw Lerrin was at the MGM Grand Palace, and after that took into a Wayne Newton show," Grand Slam informs everyone. "Jay Dawg has just been in a brutal hardcore match with TNT earlier tonight, unbelievable he is willing to fight again,"

"Well JD won't be doing much probably, have a few shots here and there, but other than that, I highly doubt he would be a major factor tonight," Riley assumes.

Bo and JD receives boo's from the Las Vegas crowd, but neither of them care. The head down towards the ring, looking at their next victims for the match.

"Their opponents for this tag team match at a combined weight of Five Hundred Thirty-Five pounds. They are proud members of Creative Control, they are, Jay Dawg and PERFECT BO!!!" Funyon shouts on the top of his lungs.

Bo and Dawg enter the ring, as Ketchum and Xero are talking about some stuff. Xero exits the ring and stands on the apron, as Ash starts off for that team. Bo stays in the ring, letting his partner rest outside.

“Now we’ll see how well Xero and Ash work together!” Riley sarastically snickers.

Referee Sexton Hardcastle rings for the bell, as this tag match gets underway. Perfect Bo and Ash Ketchum move closer together, matching up size for size, pound for pound. Bo extends his hand out, offering Ash to shake hands. Ash sticks out his hand, but pulls it back at the last second. Ash chuckles a bit turning towards Xero. Xero just shakes his head in his stupidity. Ash quickly turns back to Bo, and receives a face full of knuckles from the Bronx Bomber, Perfect Bo.

"That is what you will get if you tease and piss off Bo," Riley reminds everyone.

"Bo starting the match out early, taking Mr. Ketchum to school, unloading a flurry of right hand punches and forearms," Grand Slam commentates.

Ash is backed into the ropes by Bo, and is receiving those strong knuckles from Bo. Perfect Bo lunges over, and whips the Pokemaster to the ropes. Ash comes back, as Bo sets him self up squarely and knocking Ash down with the shoulder. Bo runs to the ropes, Xero side shuffles his way on to the apron. As Bo leans up to the ropes, Xero with tremendous flexibility lightly kicks the back of Bo. Bo turns around as Ash gets up to his feet. Bo lunges forewards, but Xero jumps down from the ring apron, escaping Bo's cold like claws. Bo talks shit to Xero, but Xero walks away. Ash sneeks up from behind, hooks his arm beneath Bo's legs, and pulls him down for the School Boy.

One...

Two...

T...Bo kicks out of that surprising pin attempt.

"Nice strategy by Xero and Ash, catching Bo by the element of surprise," Grand Slam comments Xero and Ash's team work.

WHAM!

"And that vicious clothesline by Bo caught Ash by surprise as well," Bobby informs us what just happened inside the ring.

Bo gets on top of Ash and starts feeding Ash some serious right hands, landing on Ash's precious face. Referee Sexton Hardcastle tells Bo to stop. Bo grabs Ash by his hair, and nails one last finishing punch, leaving Ash dazed in the middle of the square circle. Bo grabs Ash by his arm, and drags his sorry ass to the corner. Bo tags in Jay Dawg as now he gets a piece of the action. Ash is up against the turnbuckles, as both members of the Creative Control are tearing up the X-Force Nine member. Bo leaves the ring, as JD starts to focus on Ash's knee with repeated amounts of kicks. Jay Dawg grabs Ash by his damaged right leg, and lifts him up off the mat. Ash still balancing on one leg, goes for an Enzigini, but JD ducks that attack. Ash down on the mat now, as JD bends down and grabs Ash by his hair and lifts him up again. JD spins in a corkscrew motion, and throws ash with the Dragon Screw Leg Whip.

"Creative Control is completly dominating Ash all over this ring," Riley says.

"Jay Dawg still on the attack, focusing on that right leg of Ash Ketchum," Grand Slam states.

In the ring, Jay Dawg jumps in the air, and drops his knee on Ash's right leg, inflicting more damage in his leg. JD stands back a bit, as he watches Ash struggling to get to his feet. Ash using the ropes just to regain some balance he has left in him. JD walks up to Mr. Ketchum...

SLAP!!!

"YEAOHHHH!!!" Ash screams.

“WOOOOOO!” The crowd responds.

A sharp knife edge chop by the creative control member sends Ash screaming in pain. JD grabs Ash by his arm, goes for an Irish Whip. JD throws Ash, but doesn't let go of all, and brings him back to eat the back elbow. Ash holding his jaw knocked back a few metre's away from JD. Jay Dawg sprints towards Ash and goes for the clothesline, Ash ducks, as JD has to backtrack in his foot steps. JD spins on his ankle, turning around, but Ash leaps on JD's shoulders, and lands with a Hurricanrana. JD gets up from the hurricanrana, shaking his head from being Dizzy. Ash hops towards the corner, as he gets closer towards Xero, he leaps, and tags in Xero. Xero comes into the ring to face JD.

"This is the first time Xero and Jay Dawg has been in the same ring together since over a year, when they were both in the JL." Grand Slam recalls, "Best of friends in FTW, as I recall."

What all happened in the past doesn't matter anymore. Xero goes full speed, knocking his former friend down on the mat with a wicked clothesline. JD gets back up to his feet, but finds himself cornered in the turnbuckle. Xero is firing some lightning quick punches. Irish whip by the Canadian which sends JD to the ropes. JD bounces off the ropes, and comes back at Xero. Xero locks in a waistlock, and tosses JD over top of him hitting the Belly to Belly Suplex. JD holding his back, rolling out of the ring, as the fans love Xero for what he has been doing in the match.

"Xero is certaintly fired up right now, with a firecracker up his ass, he is not slowing down one bit," Grand Slam comments on Xero's work ethic.

JD on the outside, leaning up against the guard rail, not paying attention what is going on. Xero rushes to the ropes, as he leaps on the top rope, and does a diving cross body on JD, which sends both of him down on the mat. Neither men are moving at the moment as Xero and JD are just lying there. A few seconds pass by as the Las Vegas crowd starts to chant "SWF!" Xero slowly gets up to his feet, just finding out where he is. He bends down and grabs JD by his head. Irish whip by Xero, reversed by the Dawg, as Xero runs into the ring post face first. Xero comes crashing down, seeing stars above his head, only to realize those stars were actually the lights. JD grabs Xero by his head and rolls his body inside the ring. JD climbs up on to the ring apron. JD gets in the ring as he sees Xero lying face first on the mat. JD grabs the bald head of Xero and smashes his face first on to the mat. Xero holds his face, as JD turns Xero over, and makes the cover.

One...

Ash enters the ring

Two...

Ash sprints towards JD. Bo enters the ring aswell.

Thr- Ash able to make the save, by diving the elbow. Ash gets up, but Bo knocks

Ash over with a clothesline, which sends him over the top rope. Referee Sexton Hardcastle tells Bo to go back to his corner. Ash is laying on the mat motionless, while the ref is checking him out. Xero dazed in the ring, as JD is up to his feet. JD smacks Xero right in the family jewels as he goes down.

"LOW BLOW!" Grand Slam shouts.

"I didn't blow no guy," Riley answers. The two look at each other...

JD grabs Xero by his legs, and lifts him high up in the air, and sends him back down with a powerbomb. JD makes the cover, but the ref hasn't turned his back yet. Ash starts to get up to his feet, as referee Sexton Hardcastle turns around.

One...

Two...

Thre..!NO!!! Xero managed to kick out.

"Close," Mark says.

"Ash did that on purposely!" Riley screams at Mike.

"Did what?"

"DELAY THE PIN!!!"

Ash finally gets back on to the ring apron, still holding his back. In the ring, JD is pissed off that Xero managed to escape. JD grabs Xero by his left leg, as he starts to stomp on the inside part of his leg. JD steps on the right foot of Xero, and does a wishbone splitter on Xero, hurting the groin area. Xero holding his crotch in pain, as JD grabs Xero by his arm and lifts him up on to his feet. Irish Whip by Jay Dawg, sends Xero in the ropes. Blind tag by Ash, as he is now the legal man in the match.

Riley: Aw crap, here comes little Ash bitch. ust what I need to see.

And as Ash hops into the ring, the writing style changes just a tad bit, but that’s another story. Ketchum comes out, ready to fight quickly pounding away at JD with right hands. Boom, boom, boom! Jay Dawg is sent staggering back with each blow to his face, followed by a very quick whip to the ropes from Ash, JD bounces off the ropes as Ash leaps into the air, attempting a yakuza kick to the face of JD, but JD slides under Ash’s foot and leaps up behid him, running back toward the ropes and bouncingo ff them, flying back at Ash as he turns around, just as JD leaps into the air and spins around, smashing his heel into Ash’s face with a spinning heel kick! Both men go down hard as the crowd goes silent, but they both get back up rather quickly, just in time for JD to thrust his right leg up into Ash’s face with a stiff roundhouse kick, knocking him to the mat with the Sweet Tooth Looseneing!

Riley: POW! Ba-da-boom, ba-da-bing! Ash Ketchum just got what he deserves!

Stevens: WOW! Ketchum’s just been laid out by Jay Dawg! What a blow! What a blow!

As Ketchum lies on the mat, seething from the blow in pain, JD begins to pound away into the sternum of Ketchum with hard, impacting stomps of the boots. Ketchum cries out in pain as JD grabs hold of the ropes and begins to stomp faster and faster into Ash’s chest as the crowd’s boos crescendo from “Small Prtoest Group In The Distance” to “On The Verge Of Bloody Riot”.

Riley: What a match! Look at those stomps!

Stevens: Looks like JD’s hand enough fun as he picks up Ash, headed for his corner of the ring!

Riley: I smell victory!

Stevens: Quick tag into Perfect Bo here, and a whip to the corner for Ash, wait, Ash reaches his arm out and tags Xero in! Here comes the craziest of the Canucks, ready to face one of New York’s toughest!

As Bo rushes in after Ash, Xero cuts him off with a clothesline from the side, quickly knocking Bo to the mat. Bo preceeds to get up, but as he does, Xero charges at him, ready for some kind of move, a move that never comes as Bo extends his arm out and smashes it into Xero’s skull, flipping him in the air as a result of a massive clothesline!

Stevens: OH MY GOD! XERO’S JUST BEEN KNOCKED OUT!

Xero lands on his back as a result of the clothesline but he gets to his feet, staggering backwards from the blow as Bo lines himself up with Xero, charging at him as Xero stops staggering and lifting his boot into the air like Test, slamming it ito Xero’s face with a jaw-dropping Big Boot!

Riley: What a boot! Wait, here’s a cover!

One!

Two!

THREE-NO! XERO KICKS OUT! THE COrWD GOES NUTS!

Stevens: SOOOOO CLOSE! BUT MAYBE HE’LL TRY AGAIN!

Bo quickly pulls Xero up and grabs him by the head, but Xero applies a side headlock on Bo, runs for a few feet and then drops him down on his face.

resulting in a bulldog from Xero!

Stevens: Quick bulldog! Both men get right back up onto their feet, ready to go!

As Xero gets to his feet, he whips Bo to the ropes. Bo hits the and flies back, but on the rebound, Bo jumps in the air and while taking Xero down with a clothesline, falling to the ground with him as a result of the clothesline takedown!

Stevens: What a counter from Bo! Xero is down, but so id Bo!

Riley: Alas, they’re both down!

Stevens: And so it is! Both men down! They need to tag in their partners!

JD and Ash quickly reach out, standing on the ropes, hands extended as the crowd begins to clap while Xero and Bo crawl toward their corners while Kivell counts...

Kivell: ONE!

Both men roll onto their chests, slowly moving as the crowd begins to cheer and clap.

Stevens: Both men need to make the tag to their respective corners!

Riley: C’mon, Danny! You can do it!

Kivell: TWO!

Suddenly, the crowd begins to boo as someone else comes down to watch.

Riley: Well well, look who’s come to join the party...

Stevens: What’s Chili Chili Bang Bang doing here, and why do they have a steel chair?

Kivell: THREE!

The clapping begins to crescendo as Xero and Bo begin to crawl toward their respective corners...

Riley: SHUT UP! THEY’RE TRYING TO WRESTLE YOU MORONS!

Stevens: They’re getting closer! Someone needs to make the move and make the tag in!

The clapping grows louder. Ash and JD reach down as their partners crawl closer and closer...

Kivell: FOUR!

Riley: Smart idea, genius. And maybe, when they get in the ring, they should fight each other? How does that sound to you? Or would you rather see them engage in a thrilling game of Chinese Checkers?!?!?!?!

TNT and Frost, Tag Titles around their waist, watch as Xero and Bo’s partners cheer them on as they continue to crawl closer and closer toward their corners, crowd clapping growing louder and louder...

Kivell: FIVE!

Stevens: They’re almost there! They’re sooooo close!

Xero and Bo slowly reach their corners, beginning to reach their hands up...

Kivell: SIX-

SLAP! Almost simultaneously, Xero and Bo tag Ash and JD in as the crowd explodes in cheer!

Stevens: Ash Ketchum, Jay Dawg in the ring, the crowd on their feet as Ash-oh! Quick clothesline from Ash, but he’s right back up, and so is Perfect Bo!

As JD tries to charge at Ash, Ketchum thrusts his leg forward, JD catching it before it hits his chest. Ketchum flows through the move in mind, a frontflip enziguri, leaping off his other foot and into the air, kicking JD in the jaw hard! Ash flips through the air and lands on his feet as JD staggers back a foot or two while Bo gets to his feet. Ketchum turns back to Bo, quickly grabbing his arm while Xero pulls himself up in the corner, Ash whipping Bo to the ropes. Bo flies toward him, bouncing back quickly as Ash Ketchum ducks down, scooping Bo up across his chest as he spins and drops down, slamming Bo onto the mat with a Irish whip powerslam!

Stevens: KETCHUM CLEANING HOUSE AS HE TAKES ON CREATIVE CONTROL ALONE!

As JD recovers from the enziguri, Ash grabs his arm, grasping it firmly as he sends JD to the ropes with an Irish whip, but as JD runs by Ash, he pulls back, drawing Ash toward him as he smashes his elbow into Ash’s face with a reverse elbow! Ketchum collapses to the mat, slowly getting to his feet but grabbing his head as JD sets him up for the next move.

Stevens: Quick coutner from JD, but it’s a momentum shifter!

Quickly reacting, JD graps Ash in a headlock, falling backwards as he drops Ash into a facefirst DDT, but JD lands over top of Ash. Ash doesn’t cry out in pain as his body goes limp for a sec, JD rolling Ash onto his back and covering him for a pin!

Stevens: JD DDT ON ASH! WHAT A MOVE! ASH IS OUT COLD! HERE’S THE COVER!

One!

Two!

THREE-NO! ASH KETCHUM KICKS OUT AT THE LAST SECOND! JD CAN’T BELIEVE IT! He screams at Matty K and protests he had a three-count as Bo tells him from the corner to calm down and get back to work on Ash.

Riley: NOOO! COME ON! COUNT IT RIGHT, REF!

Stevens: JD nearly had Ash there! Soooo close to winning was Creative Control, they could taste it!

As JD yells, he grabs Ash and hauls him onto his feet, grabbing his arm and setting him up for a whip to the ropes, but Xero steps between the ropes and breaks the hold JD has on Ash. Dawg instead grabs Xero’s arm and whips him to the ropes, running right behind him as the steel chair-wielding TNT hops up onto the apron and draws the chair back.

Riley: Watch this! Xero’s about to get a double whammy!

TNT swings the chair around, attempting to hit Xero in the head...

But he nails JD instead! Dawg staggers back, the blow not being too severe, but enough to daze him. As he does, though, Xero gets up, running towards Bo, and leaping into the air, dropkicking him in the face and sending both men down!

Stevens: TNT JUST TOOK OUT JAY DAWG ON ACCIDENT!

Riley: What an idiot! Nice going, stupid! DUH!

As JD staggers back, Ash Ketchum returns to the match, the legal man as he grabs the fron of JD’s pants and pulls him back rolling him up, the surprise roll up pin shockinig JD!

Stevens: Quick roll up pin! Here’s the count!

Riley: NO! NOT LIKE THIS! THIS IS WWE STYLE!!!

The crowd jumps onto their feet as Matthew Kivell exacts revenge and makes a super-fast count on the man who beat his ass up!

One!!! Two!!! THREE!!!

DING DING DING!!! The bell rings as the crowd goes nuts while JD stares at Frost and TNT as Bo helps him up, TNT looking shocked as Frost steps in front of him, starring back at JD.

Riley: WHAT A SCREW JOB! KIVELL COUNTED TOO FAST!

Stevens: JD’S TOO PISSED AT TNT TO EVEN NOTICE IT!

Riley: Stubby, I hope you’re watching! Fire this bastard!

Stevens: But then who will break the new JLers in?

Riley: Cutthorat. He’s everyone’s bitch.

Meanwhile, in the ring, CC converses amongst themselves, not about the internal combustion engine and the fact it is niether internal nor combustion, but about the God damn finish to the match:

JD: They just didn’t do that, bro...

Bo: Dawg, I think it was an accide-

JD: TELL ME THOSE FUCKERS JUST DIDN’T DO THAT! THOSE BITCHES ARE GONNA PAY!

JD begins to get angry, the rage building as he believes Chili Chili Bang Bang screwed them out of the match, but as Ash gets onto his feet to celebrate, he notices that Xero has been slammed to the ground via a vicious attack from behind from TNT! Ash Ketchum turns around to fend off any possible attack from TNT, but as he stalks one half of the tag champs, the other half slides under the ring behind Ash, lifting that steel chair up over his shoulder, charging at Ash as he turns around, letting out a battle cry as he swings it down, and-

“CLANK!”

Riley: YES!

Ketchum crumples to the mat as Creative Control exits stage left, Ash clutching his chest in pain as Frost yells at TNT to hold down the pain-filled Ash Ketchum by the arms, almost like the Island Boyz do.

Riley: Ash Ketchum’s gone three minutes too long! Get it?

Stevens: Yes, I do, as this is eeerily similar to a certain WWE tag team’s plan of attack.

Frost then climbs to the top rope, grinning as he turns around. You can almost hear the turnbuckle creak as Frost’s enormous weight presses down on the steel pole. As he gets to the top rope, he stares at Ash for a few seconds, then pumps his fist into the air, a tradtional Frost taunt.

Stevens: OH COME ON! THAT’S ENOUGH!

Bo and JD watch from outside the ring, where they see Frost leap from the turnbuckle, ropes eratically moving as Frost flies through the air at Ash, shifting his boy around and focusing the impact point on the end of his elbow, falling, falling, FALLING, and then-

Riley: AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!

“THUD!” The whole ring, from the ring posts to the ropes, to the canvas, shake in the shockwave from a huge Frost top rope elbow into Ash’s chest, an elbow that causes Ash to scream at the top of his lungs, grabbing his ribs as he begins to roll, flip, and convulse in pain for several seconds, almost seizure-like in his movements beore they tone down a bit to where it looks like he’s a fish out of water.

Stevens: OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! AN ELBOW DROP FROM FROST FROM THE TOP ROPE! ASH KETCHUM MAY HAVE BROKEN HIS RIB CAGE!

The crowd erupts in boos as TNT jumps to his feet, cheering and laughing happily as Ash Ketchum’s eyes tear up and he cries in pain, tear drops rolling down his cheeks.

Riley: Oh, shut up! You wouldn’t know entertainment if it came up behind you and ass-raped you bitches!

TNT helps Frost onoto his feet as boos and popcans rain down from the crowd, one nailing TNT in the head, which he promptly picks up and throws back into the crowd.

They point to their belts and pose for the fans, few taking the opportunity to snap pictures as they stand over the fallen “team” of Ash and Xero.

Riley: Wheeee! It’s M7 Super Happy Victory Fun Time!

TNT and Frost smile as Ash and Xero lie motionless on the mat, Mark Stevens showing concern for the two men as Chili Chili Bang Bang celebrates their awesome “victory”.

Stevens: There will be retribution for this, trust me, Bobby.

Riley: Oh, shove it up your ass, you sore loser.

Stevens: Reagardless, there’s more action ahead here on Smarkdown, so don’t change that dial! But by God! What a message Frost and TNT have sent to the WF... that message being: “Beware!”

September 14, 2002

***As the hot Nevada crowd make their presence felt for SWF Storm, the announcers try to yell over the noise, welcoming people back to the show.***

Riley: Grand Union, if being this bad is wrong then I don't ever wanna be right!! I've seen it all tonight!! The casinos, the slots, the craps table, the showgirls!! It's like I woke up in heaven this morning!!

Stevens: The fans in Reno are hot in anticipation for tonight's matches; but more importantly, coming up next: …

***The animated graphic is helpfully displayed on the screen: Tod deKindes vs Tom Flesher, U.S. Title Match.***

Riley: That's right, the U.S. title is on the line tonight. Tod finally got his shot, but he paid the price last Monday!!

***Video clips show us last Monday's happenings, as Tom Flesher attacks Tod, leaving him with a knee injury.***

Stevens: I talked to Tod earlier tonight and he's told me that no matter what, injured leg or not, he'll BE in tonight's match and he's assured everybody that he's got his sights on that belt!

Riley: Don't you realize it?? He's being absolutely STUPID!! He had a guaranteed shot and he chose to take it tonight!! And keep in mind that this is a No-DQ match!! Tom is gonna not only further injure him…he's gonna kill him!!

Stevens: Our medical team told us that Tod was NOT cleared to wrestle tonight, but should he have chosen to compete, they wouldn't have assumed responsibility.

Riley: He is so dead.

Stevens: Also, Tod has asked his companions in XF9 to remain in the locker room for this match; but you know they're gonna be with him in spirit, Bobby.

Riley: He's deader than dead! D-E-D! Dead!!

Stevens: For now…let's take you to the ring.

***As the "SWF United States Championship" graphic fwooshes across the screen, we cut to the ring, where Funyon is standing alongside Mark Hebner.***

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a NO Disqualification match, and it is for the S-W-F United States Heavyweight Championship!

***He pauses for a few seconds, allowing the crowd to cheer at the announcement of the title match.***

Funyon: *ahem*…(pulls a card from inside his jacket)…(looks at it)…(off mic, to Hebner) Do I really have to do this? (Hebner shrugs)…You gotta be kidding me…(in mic)…*ahem*…(reading off card) Introducing first…"He is the man you meet on the subway; he is the man you meet in the food joint. He is the man you'll bump into in the parkway, he's the man who'll help you prove a point. He's the one who won't break a sweat…he's…God…the one who'll make you we--…"

Stevens: Hey now!

Funyon: "He's the one with the perfect and proportionnate body mass; he's the one who tonight will finish the job and kick some angry german ass. He's your noise maker, he's your booty shaker. He's your record maker, and your record breaker. He'll make you ladies go all Dada; while reciting In A Gadda Davida"…

***Almost in synch, the Philosopher Kings' "I Am The Man" heats up on the speakers.***

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, he is the SWF United States Heavyweight Champion…The Superior One…Tom-Flllllllllllllessheeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!!

***As the blue pyro goes off, the smoke clears from the entrance way, revealing Tom Flesher at the top of the ramp in his trademark pensive pose, along with one of his girls who is proudly displaying the U.S. title belt in her hands. He casually struts down the ramp, with the girl following along; all in tune to his music. He rolls into the ring and then helps the girl up the ring steps. After ordering Mark Hebner to back off HIS girl, he holds open the ropes, allowing her to bend over…and enter the ring. While Flesher stands on the second rope, blowing kisses to the crowd and professing his never ending love for them, the girl raises the title belt up high next to him, as the fans boo the duo beyond belief.***

Stevens: Tom Flesher doesn't seem to have a whole lot of fans here tonight, Bobby.

Riley: He's got tons of fans!

Stevens: Tons?

Riley: TONS!!

Stevens: Then where are they?

Riley: They, well…Um, well--…Shut up!!

***As the belt girl hands over the U.S. belt to Mark Hebner, Flesher bids her goodby…in the form of a ten second kiss.***

Riley: Woooooooooooooo!! Go Tom!!

Stevens: Come on, this ain't Melrose!!

***A little flustered, the girl shyly retreats to the back as Tom appears proud of his work. The Kings' tune fades out, allowing Funyon to finish up.***

Funyon: And his opponent, the challen--…

***Tom snatches the microphone away and claims it as his own.***

Tom: Listen up, little man, I've heard you talk TOO MUCH tonight and I, being the good guy that I am, thought I'd handle this one. Now BEAT IT!!

***Appearing nonplussed, Funyon walks towards the ropes and exits the ring…but not before Tom boots him in the buttocks, hastening his departure.***

Tom: And now, my opponent!!…He is…UN-worthy of facing me tonight in a title match!! But being so nice, I think I'll just go ahead and let my opponent rest up. Tod, buddy, we DON'T have to do this tonight!

Stevens: (as the crowd boos) Come on, not AGAIN??

Riley: Tod is injured!! It's only fair!!

Tom: Don't worry Tod, I'll just go to the back and find Stubby, and tell him to --…

***He's suddenly interrupted as the XF9 logo appears on the screen, and as Slipknot's "I Am Hated" explodes from the speaker, bringing this crowd on their feet. Tom drops the mic (and his jaw) as out of the smoke and strobe lights walks Tod deKindes, with a slight noticeable limp.***

Stevens: There he is!! He said he'd be there and now he's here!!

***As a large brace can be seen underneath Tod's pants on the left knee, Tod immediately removes his trench coat and silver shades before even entering the ring. He charges at the ring, sliding under the bottom rope.***

Stevens: Here we go!!

***Bell rings. Tom hammers right away with forearms to the back. Irish whip is attempted but it's reversed by Tod! He scores right away by sending Flesher up with a HUGE back body drop. Tom staggers up, holding his lower back, until Tod blasts him with a clothesline, taking him down. And another!…And another! Tom ends up leaning against the ropes, allowing Tod to charge at him and clothesline him out of the ring! Flesher skins the cat and lands on his feet on the outside, then looks up to see Tod slingshot himself over the top rope and come crashing down on him with a pescado! The crowd pops big as the two competitors hit the concrete.***

Stevens: My God! Did you see that?

Riley: Looked like poor Tod tripped over the ropes, and Tom was nice enough to catch him.

***The two workers scramble to their feet on the outside, with Tom getting up just a notch slower. As Tod gets up, Tom unleashes a stiff kick to his injured left knee. Tod falls back down, and Tom immediately kicks the injured leg again. He pulls Tod to his feet on his own terms and whips the challenger into the ringpost, then charges at him. "No!" gasps Stevens as Flesher cocks his leg for a Yakuza kick...but he hits the ringpost, as Tod ducks the boot! Tod rolls out of the way and gets to his feet, and as soon as Tom spins around to see him, BAM! Tod nails him with a spear, and Flesher goes back-first into the ringpost! He falls to the concrete, clutching his back, as Tod slides back into the ring. Flesher takes a moment to recover, and he gets to his feet...only to be caught when Tod leaps off the apron and catches him with a somersault flip! With both workers significantly stunned by the opening sequence, they lay on the concrete a moment as Mark Hebner walks around the ring stupidly, wondering what to do.***

Stevens: Listen to the crowd's reaction to that series! Tod deKindes, injured knee and all, is showing how much he wants the US Title!

Riley: Almost a shame, isn't it?

Stevens: What is?

Riley: He wants it so bad, but he's just gonna get piefaced and sent home. C'est dommage.

Stevens: Pardon?

Riley: "C'est dommage." It's French for "cheese smells rancid," but it seemed appropriate.

**Tom and Tod both work their way to their feet, one on each side of the ringpost. Slowly, they get up and each wrestler slides into the ring. They end up facing each other on the mat, and almost immediately Flesher grabs Tod and pulls him through, ending up on top in a mat-wrestling situation. He reaches under Tod's chin with one arm and shoots his legs under Tod's, looking for a double grapevine. Sensing the Superior Stretch Beta coming, Tod peels off the dragon sleeper and simultaneously throws a back elbowsmash, knocking Tom in the side of the neck. Flesher releases the grapevine and rolls away into the centre of the ring.***

Stevens: Flesher got cocky and went for the Beta a little early, and Tod was able to counter it.

Riley: He's just delaying the inevitable. You'd think with all that Kafka the Germans read, he'd have realized it's useless to fight back.

Stevens: Bobby, have you READ Kafka?

Riley: Well, I got bored, so I made something up.

***Tod and Tom get back to up and square off in the centre. Flesher stands up straight, oddly out of his wrestling stance, and stands square with Tod. Tod steps forward into a lockup, but Flesher backs out and motions for Tod to stop. Tod, not about to be fooled by Flesher's tactics, continues charging in, but Flesher boots him in the side of the knee. Tod recoils in pain, and Flesher responds by kicking the knee out from under Tod. Tod falls to the mat, and Flesher immediately dives on him for…***

ONE!

***…but no more, since Tod is still in good position to kick out. Flesher stays on top of Tod and leans down, leaning his forearm across Tod's windpipe. He tries to put all his weight on Tod in a choke, but Tod reaches up and lifts the arm off him. Flesher tries hard to push it down, and the two wrestlers struggle back and forth for a bit. Tod finally succeeds in pushing the arm all the way off and shoving it off to the side. Flesher leans down on Tod, trying to improvise something, but the XF9 member thinks a move ahead and throws a stiff right cross. He catches Flesher flush in the temple, and the Superior One falls to the side and rolls to his back. Tod rolls over and covers him for…***

ONE!

***…but Flesher kicks out just before the two-count. Tod stays on top of him and starts unloading a series of mounted punches. Flesher throws his guard up and blocks most of the impact, but still ends up worse for wear.***

Stevens: And Tod deKindes is just unloading on Tom Flesher! I say, good for him! Not to mention that keeping it on the mat is going to prevent stress to Tod's injured knee.

Riley: (rolls eyes) Pffft, like it's EVER a good idea to go on the mat with Flesher.

Stevens: You'd go to the mat with him.

Riley: uh...er...(reaches up and pulls his collar to let off steam)

Stevens: Oh, like it's a big secret. Bobby, we ALL know you're...

Riley: NO! I AM NOT!

Stevens: Of course you are! Every show, week in, week out, you prove that you're...

Riley: Do you want to ruin my career? Do you want to make me an outcast like NTD?!

Stevens: Oh, I wouldn't worry about it. Curry Man was a great admirer of Flesher's matwork, just like you and NTD.

Riley: Oh, THAT... well then.... um... absolutely!

Stevens: Why, what did you think I was talking about?

Riley: NOTHING!

***Tod continues unloading his mounted punches on Flesher, who responds by gradually scooting up Tod's body until he has bodyscissors applied around Tod's hips. From there, Flesher releases his guard a bit, just enough to grab Tod's right arm and yank it out of position. Tod responds instinctively by trying to recoil and avoid getting caught in a submission. From there, Tom follows the motion by inching his scissors up Tod's body and finally swinging his leg around to lock up the triangle choke! Tom cranks the chokehold, grinning sadistically as Tod tries to break the hold. Tod starts by leaning forward, trying to stack Flesher's hips over his shoulders for a pin, but Tom keeps him away with a stiff palm strike to the forehead. Slightly stunned, Tod pulls back, giving Tom the opportunity to grab the ropes and pull on them for extra leverage. Immediately, the fans begin to boo.***

Riley: And he's allowed to do it! What a ring general!

Stevens: He's a general something, alright. It may be legal, but it's certainly not ethical.

Riley: And why not? It's allowed! Hell, you could shoot somebody in a no-dq match and it'd be ethical!

Stevens: What are you thinking?! There are kids watching!

Riley: (thinks it over for a moment) Kids, DO NOT shoot your playmates. Please stick only to slingshots and clubs. Also, lots of squealing, if need be.

***Stevens sighs as Flesher holds the ropes and cranks the choke. Tod reaches up with his free arm and, in a desperate attempt to relieve the pressure, tries to peel Flesher's ankles apart. He manages to create just enough space to pull back a few inches. Tod throws a quick triceps strike to Tom's groin, forcing him to release the hold and giving Tod a moment to back away and catch his breath.***

Riley: DID YOU SEE THAT?! DISQUALIFY HIM!!!!!

Stevens: Oh, how can you say that?! Just a moment ago, you were cheering the Stupefied One for grabbing the ropes!

Riley: This is then, that was now! That was plain, unmitigated, unethical treatment of the testicles! Tod should be ARRESTED, dammit!

***Flesher, curled up like a boiled shrimp, holds his injured sack while Tod kneels, regaining his wind. Tod makes it to his feet and leans over, waiting like a cat ready to pounce for Flesher to move. Flesher slowly rolls over, and Tod descends on him, locking up a front facelock. Tod throws Flesher's arm over his shoulder and goes for a vertical suplex, but Flesher grapevines the leg to block it. Tod tries again, and once again Tom blocks the suplex. With a quick legsweep, the Superior One knocks Tod onto his BUTT. He keeps the front facelock and yanks Tod back to his feet. Fluidly, he lifts Tod up, holds him vertical for a moment, then falls to his back and pounds Tod into the canvas with a brainbuster! He covers for

ONE!

TWO!- NO! Tod kicks out!***

Stevens: It's going to take more than a brainbuster to keep Tod down! Tod's a fighter, and he'll do all he damn well can to win at any cost!

Riley: I dunno. That was a pretty vicious brainbuster. I'd like to get a look at Tod's head after that one.

Stevens: ...

Riley: What? It's probably all red and swollen!

***Flesher pulls Tod to his feet, then stiffly kicks his leg out from under him just to watch him crumble to the mat again. He grabs Tod's tender leg and plants his elbow into the side of the knee before dropping down to wrench it out of place, as Tod screams out.***

Stevens: Flesher's deviating from his usual way of doing the elbowdrop, because...

Riley: He doesn't want to his the brace with his elbow! What a nice guy, not wanting to ruin an expensive brace like that!

***Flesher wrenches the knee a little longer, then stands back up, still holding the leg. Quickly, he does a somersault, snapping the leg against the hamstring and causing Tod to cry out again! Flesher stands up, grabs the leg, and immediately spins around to lock up a figure-four leglock! With Tod unable to resist, Tom cinches the hold and immediately grabs onto the ropes. Tod props himself up on his hands and tries rocking back and forth, but can't seem to wriggle free of the hold. Gradually building momentum, Tod almost rolls all the way over, nearly reversing the pressure of the figure four. Feeling it coming, Flesher opts simply to release the hold and scoot away. He gets back up to his feet, then helps Tod up. Flesher tries to whip Tod to the ropes, but Tod plants his feet and resists. Tom goes for a kick to the knee, but Tod lifts his leg in time to dodge it, then hits Flesher with a knife-edge chop to the neck! To a great crowd pop, Tod chops Flesher in the neck three more times, prompting a series of WHOO!s from the capacity audience. Finally, one strong chop to the windpipe knocks Flesher down, and Tom balances on one knee. Tod grins, happy his plan worked, and sprints to the ropes. As he rebounds, he jumps up, springs off Flesher's knee and nails him with a knee strike, slamming his metal brace into the back of Flesher's head! The crowd pops big as Flesher collapses, the starch taken right out of him.***

Stevens: SHINING WIZARD!!!!!!!! Tod deKindes uses the knee brace to his advantage and nails Flesher with a Shining Wizard!

Riley: Pffft. It's just a fucking knee.

Stevens: Tell that to Flesher.

Riley: (thinks it over) No way. Flesher knows what to sell. (stands up) It's cool, Tom, you can stop selling that knee now!

***Flesher doesn't respond, though, as he's too busy laying limply on his back. Tod sits on the mat, his face a mask of pain. He gives off an aura that says, "FUCK! Note to self: Do NOT do knee strikes with the injured knee." Slowly, Tom starts to regain his senses, and before anything else can happen, he rolls to the outside. Tod, limping on his one good leg, follows him out. Tom gets to his feet and staggers toward the announce table, where Bobby Riley looks up at him adoringly.***

Riley: Stick and move, Tom! Stick and move! He is SO yours!!

Stevens: Please …

Riley: You thirsty? You wanna drink or something? Give him your water, Slam. GET THE MAN SOME WATER!!!

Stevens: Would you calm down?! -- Hey!!

***Flesher reaches in front of Bobby Riley and grabs his handy No Spill coffee mug from the local 7-11.***

Riley: Help yourself to some sweeeeet maple nut crunch, Tom!!

Stevens: What's he gonna do with that coffee?!

***Crawling as best as an injured man can, Tod slithers out of the ring; heading for Tom's general direction. He takes a big gulp of the caffeinated liquid, as Tod charges with a clothesline. Tom ducks … and expels …***

Riley: COFFEE MIST!! COFFEE MIST~!!

***Tod grabs his face as the hot concoction comes in contact with his face, as Tom mimicks Jinzei Shinzaki's hand movements, irritating the crowd a bit more. He throws the coffee cup back on the announce table (and making sure it falls on Mark Stevens' lap). Concentrating his full attention back on Tod, he dodges a few wild swings from the still temporarily blinded german grappler. He puts his dukes up in mock intimidation, telling Tod to Just Bring It. He winds up with more wavy hands signals, looking to put all the mustard behind this up and connects with a BIIIG … thumb to the eye. Deciding that he's had enough with the shenanigans, Tom grabs two handfuls of hair and SLAMS Tod's head right against the announce table! He exchanges a knowing nod with Bobby Riley and then SLAMS his head on the table once again! ***

Riley: That's how you do it, Tom!!

Stevens: I don't think our table needs any more remodeling, Bobby!

Riley: Wouldn't hurt.

***As Riley asks for one more, Tom can only oblige as he once agaib grabs Tod by his long black hair. He raises the german made head as high as he can, ready to once again slam it down with force … but Tod puts his hands down to block!! And he reverses! Flesher's head goes smashing against the announce table! And again! And again!! And another!! The crowd is on their feet at the sudden resurgence!***

Stevens: Tod deKindes has turned the tables on Tom Flesher!!

Riley: DAMN YOU AND YOUR INSOLENT WIT!! DAMN YOU!!

***He raises Flesher's loopy-knocked head by the hair and sends it smashing all the way over to the ring apron! He shouts out an ear piercing rallying cry to the fans, as they return the favor. He grabs Tom by the arm and prepares to send him crashing into the time keeper's table courtesy of the ever classic Irish whip … but Tom reverses! Tod RAMS into the steel guard rail and then lands into Funyon's lap. As Mark Hebner warns Flesher about doing not so nice things like that, Tom casually shoves him aside, picking up a television cable along the way.***

Stevens: What's Flesher gonna do with that cable NOW?!

Riley: The only logical thing, duh.

***Tom casually wraps the cord around Tod's neck and yanks with all his might, slowly choking the air out of the german fighter. Tod tries to fight out of it, but it's no use, as he's soon starting to black out. With his hands, he tries to grab whatever's within reaching distance. He feels something … it's average sized … rectangular shaped …made of metal and wood … Everybody but him see that he has the ring bell in hand, but he swings it upwards anyway …***

*PING!!*

Stevens: Pardon my Dutch, but Tom Flesher JUST GOT HIS BELL RUNG!!

Riley: Awww, yeah, that's just RICH!! Tod is feeling all desperate so has he to resort to HITTING Tom Flesher in the face with a ring bell!! That thing has sharp corners!!!

Stevens: Flesher spit coffee in his face just a moment ago!!

Riley: I said sharp corners!!!

***As Tom has released his grip on the TV cables, Tod untangles himself from the mess, ring bell still in hand. He awaits for Tom to finish feeling the bump on his forehead … only to then give him another one. ***

*PING!!*

Stevens: Another shot with the ring bell!!

Riley: Oh COME ON NOW!! This is getting WAY BEYOND the realm of acceptable conduct!!!

***Tod tosses the possibly now dented apparatus back to Funyon, as Flesher is still down on the ring side mats, not moving at ALL. Mark Hebner reminds him that pinfalls MUST occur within the ring, but that's not Tod's intention for now. He picks up Bobby Riley's No Spill Coffee Mug (did I mention it was available at your local 7-11?) and unscrews the top, under Riley's protests. He eats the lid in the forehead in order to shut up, as Tod casually pours the still hot coffee all over Flesher! … This instantly wakes him up.***

*FFFFFPHHSHHHHHHHHHHHH!!*

***With steam now coming out of Flesher's skin, the Superior One shoots up to his feet, running around the ring side area like a scalded dog. Who was actually scalded. Go figure. Flesher ends up in the ring, complaining to Mark Hebner about Tod's actions, to which Hebner can only reply that he doesn't care, just wrestle, damn it. Still at ring side, Tod suddenly grabs hold of Flesher's legs … where the ring post casually happens to be between them. Uh oh … Tod pulls with all his might, tripping Flesher flat on his face. With one more solid yank, Tom's unmentionnables come in contact with the ring post, causing him to yell a couple of octaves higher than usual. Tod hops up to the apron, with the sudden regain of adrenalin seemingly making him forget he has a buggering knee. He boosts himself off the apron with the use of the ropes, sails over the top strand and DRIVES a big elbow drop on the back of Flesher's head. Cover.***

*ONE!*

*TWO!*

*THR-- …

Riley: NO!! I MEAN YES!! He kicked out!!

***With Flesher still face down and spread eagled in the corner of the ring, Tod sits up on the top turnbuckle, lifting up Flesher by the hair in the process.***

Stevens: Looks like Tod is setting up Flesher for his own Ego Trip!

Riley: Oh and he's stealing his MOVES, too?!

***Tod, actually considering doing the move, puts his knee behind Flesher's head; but he remembers that the leg won't be feeling too good after that, so he quickly spins Flesher 180 and switches to a neat tornado DDT that DRIVES Tom's head to the mat. Tod crawls over for the cover. ***

*ONE!*

*TWO!*

*THR-- …

Riley: He kicked out again!!

Stevens: So close!! Come on, ref!!

***Feeling the fans getting behind him, Tod bellows out another german war cry, as he yanks up Tom to his feet. He hooks the front facelock and swings the arm up over his head, scoring with a crisp snap suplex.***

Crowd: Hoooo…!!

***He forces himself and Flesher back up to the mat, still in the suplex position, lifts him up again, and this time scoring with a face first front suplex.***

Crowd: Hoooo…!!

***Both men back up, still in the suplex position. Tom goes up … but instead of landing stomach first on the top rope, as is normally the custom in Tod's matches; Tod changes up the Sara Sequence a bit as he DRIVES Flesher down with a brainbuster of his own! Cover.***

*ONE!*

*TWO!*

*THRE- …

***Another kick out by the U.S. champion. Tod is quickly back up to his feet, ordering Flesher to do the same, all while slapping his thigh, signaling for some German Chin Music. Tom is up, Tod fires the standing sidekick, but it's caught! Tom spins Tod around, but the german one ducks a clothesline attempt! He lifts up Tom in a fireman's carry position and NAILS a big Death Valley Driver! He contemplates going up top for a quick second, and does so, keeping in mind his knee injury. After a slow climb up the turnbuckles by Tod, Tom is still motionless. Tod dives off with a swanton attempt … but Tom moves!!***

Riley: Nothing but MAT!!

Stevens: Matt? His name's Tom.

Riley: …

***As Hebner fires up the ten count, Flesher is on his feet first, Tod soon following. As Hebner checks Tod for further injury, Flesher staggers to a corner and starts undoing the turnbuckle pad and coverings, fully exposing it! Tod pushes Hebner aside and charges at his opponent. He hops up on him as if for a hurracanrana, but Flesher alley-oops him right into the turnbuckle, as Tod lands hard on the steel! Losing his balance but bracing himself with his legs, Tod falls into the Tree of Woe position. Tom quickly rushes to the apron and YANKS with all his power on Tod's leg, bending it in an impossible angle!***

Stevens: NO!! Not the leg!! Tod's knee could be completely ripped apart!! There's nothing the referee can do about it!!

Riley: Yes there is!! Call the submission!! Ring the bell!! Give the belt to Tom Flesher because Tod is going NOWHERE!!

***Contradicting Riley's statement, Flesher releases the hold, as Tod collapses back to the mat, clutching his knee in pain. Tom drags Tod to the center of the ring … and locks on the Superior Stretch!***

Riley: YES!!! YEEEESS!! IT'S OVER!!

Stevens: THE SUPERIOR STRETCH ON TOD deKINDES!! WILL HE GIVE IT UP!!

Riley: GIVE UP, TOD!! GIVE UP!!

***Under the cheers of the crowd, Tod fights the hold for what seems to be an eternity … but no escape seems on the horizon. Unable to take it anymore, Tod's hand is up, just about ready to tap … … but Flesher releases the hold??!***

Riley: What the hell is that bastard doing???!

***Tom shakes his head "NO!"… and insists that he beat Tod with the Boilermaker.***

Stevens: He says he's gonna defeat him wit--

Riley: I HEARD what he said! …Geez.

***Tod is propped up on the turnbuckles. Tom cockily climbs the ropes after him, just about ready to deliver his near crippling finisher. He gives a final shoutout to the crowd, picked up by the camera mic.***

Tom: I love you…you…AND you!! And YOU, Bob-- *OOF*!!

*** But it proves to be his undoing, as Tod buries his forearm right in Tom's family jewels! Despite the injury and carrying the mass of two, Tod maneuvers Tom into a slam position and flies off the ropes and BAM!***

Stevens: A MODIFIED SPIRIT BREAKER FROM THE TOP ROPE!! THIS COULD BE IT!! THE LEG IS HOOKED!!

*ONE!!*

*TWO!!*

*THREE!!*

***The crowd EXPLODES, as they drown out the bell ringing. As the Slipknot fires up, Funyon heats up the lungs and makes it official: ***

Funyon: The winner of this contest … and NEEEEEEEEWWWW SWF United States Heavyweight Champion: Tod … deeeeeeeeeKiiiiiiindeeeeeeesssss!!

Stevens: He did it!! He fought through a bad knee and came out on top to become the NEW U.S. champion!

Riley: This sucks.

***As Riley throws down his headset in disgust, Tod is awarded the belt. He looks at it, as if a prize conquered after the toughest of battles. He raises it up to the Todheads, letting out a loud victory cry. Somewhere backstage, the rest of XF9 is applauding the efforts of their comrade. Tom Flesher vanishes from the ring area, as Tod celebrates in the ring.***

Stevens: It's gonna be a festive atmosphere in the XF9 dressing room tonight, because Tod deKindes, I repeat, is the NEW United States champion!

***As Tod limps from corner to corner, posing with the belt, we fade to commercials.***

September 14, 2002

“Whoo! Yes! It’s Main Event time, baby!” shouts Riley, over the roaring crowd that’s jammed the Lawlor Events Center to the rafters. “Yes indeedy, sir Stevens, it’s time! It’s time! It’s… Main Event time!”

“You’ve certainly been in a good mood tonight…”

“Of course I’m in a good mood! We’re not in Canada anymooooore! Whoooohoooo!”

“Settle down, Bobby, you’re making a scene.”

“Free at last! Freeeeee!”

Sigh.

“Anyway folks, it is Main Event time, and tonight we’ve got a no-disqualification fight with incredibly high stakes - at least, for one of the competitors. Chris Wilson, leader of the Magnificent Seven, takes on Carnival defector Chris Raynor, and Raynor requested this match, or rather a main event match specifically, as a way to prove himself as Main-Event caliber to Stubby. So now, he’s got Wils-”

"Ah....Ah.ah.....ah....ah.ah...ah..."

A female voice coos softly over the speakers before the St. Lunatics start to blast…

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

The lights drop out and a layer of fog floats over the arena as the crowd rises to its feet in unison booing. Chris Wilson steps out onto the stage and scans the crowd, soaking in the raw hatred pouring out at him. He grins, then begins to walk down the ramp, black trench coat flowing behind him as he does….

“The following No-Disqualification contest is scheduled for one fall!” Funyon bellows “Introducing first, from Miami, Floridaaa… weighing in at two hundred and seventy-three pounds… Chriiiiisss Wiiiiilllsoooooon!”

“A former World Champion, leader of one of the most powerful stables in the SWF’s history…” Despite his best efforts, Mark can’t help but sound slightly impressed. “This ma-”

“Don’t forget the only man to send the Carnival screaming like little girls at WarGames!”

“Er… ok…”

Wilson strolls on down the ramp, not in any particular hurry, even taking the time to laugh at a very crude “Wilson suks” sign being held up by a little kid, can’t be more than nine years old, in the front row, before he hops up onto the apron and steps through the ropes. Once in the ring he sheds his trench coat and stylish sunglasses, giving a threat he could easily follow up on to the attendant who takes them.

“I’m not gonna tell you to expect much of a wrestling match,” says Mark. “First off, it’s two big guys who are tremendous brawlers, and on top of that it’s no disqualification.”

“Raynor WON a no-disqualification match recently, I might add.”

“Against Mercury, yea. But I’m not entirely sure that Mercury is as dangerous as Wilson.”

Now again the lights wind down, and the opening notes and beats of “The Grudge” played at an obscenely high volume drive the fans absolutely up the wall - Raynor steps out onto the stage, arms open, expecting something, anything…

… and he ends up nearly drowning in the boos that are directed at him.

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

Raynor again holds out his arms, expecting now that he’s been announced the cheers he so rightly deserves will suddenly come rushing in.

No dice.

He fires a dirty look off at everyone he can manage as he stalks down the ramp, and as he nears ringside he turns his view onto Chris Wilson, who stands, still smirking, in the center of the ring, just waiting. Raynor rolls in under the bottom rope-

“Here we go!”

And Wilson pounces on him immediately, dropping an elbow on the back of his head! Raynor tries to get up but Wilson just keeps driving elbow after elbow after elbow, and he finally convinces his opponent to stay the hell down. He then takes Raynor up to his feet by the hair-

*DING DING DING*

“Was wondering when they’d ring the bell,” says Mark.

-and pays for it with a hard right hand to the jaw! Wilson puts his hand up to his mouth, and a second punch to the mouth ends up taking his hand with it! He shakes his hand out, trying to unjam his thumb, and pays for it with a third and final punch that sends him down to the canvas! Wilson pops back up pretty quick, but Raynor’s all over him-

“-like white on rice!”

“… Bobby… don’t ever say that again.”

“I’m sowwy.”

“… don’t say that either.”

Raynor takes ahold of Wilson’s arm and whips him hard into the ropes - on his return run, Wilson ducks a clothesline and keeps going to the other end, but just a second after he comes off the other set of ropes, Raynor takes one long stride forward and pivots on his heel, sending his elbow crashing right into Wilson’s face! Wilson’s head snaps back before the rest of him does, and he lands hard on the canvas! One hand goes to cover his jaw, the other the back of his head, so Raynor just pulls his foot back and kicks a field goal into his stomach, pulls him in, and drives the point of his elbow into the back of Wilson’s head! Wilson drops to his knees, and Raynor know goes run-

“-ning back into the ropes, comes off, and he runs his knee right into the side of Wilson’s head!”

“Help me out Mark, because I’m confused. I want Wilson to win, because he’s an evil Genius… but I want Raynor to win, because he’s an evil bastard who turned on the Carnival… who do I root for?!”

“Well, you could always look at it as a win-win situation…”

“Well yea, but-”

“Or lose-lose…”

“… die, Mark.”

Wilson goes down again, and Raynor actually smiles a little to himself as he takes a few steps back to plan his next move. Wilson grabs the ropes and yanks himself up to his feet, still not entirely sure where he is, so Raynor steps back up-

-Wilson fires off a vicious European Uppercut, that sends the ex-Carny reeling! Wilson takes a step forward and fires off a second, and a third, then he grabs Raynor’s hand and heaves him into the ropes!

As Raynor comes running back, Wilson takes a few steps forward and springs up, catching his foe upside the head with a Miami Sidekick! The ex-Carny is dropped hard to the mat, and Wilson pauses to savor the moment… He then turns back to see Raynor getting up to his knees, stumbling and bumbling, so he waits until Raynor falls into the ropes before running at him and jumping, hitting a beautiful knee-lift that almost sends Raynor right over the top! Raynor does manages to stay in the ring, but perhaps it would have been better not to… Wilson gets to his feet and runs to the opposite ropes again - on his return trip, he bends down-

“Wilson going for a spear-”

But Raynor steps aside, and Chris Wilson, all two hundred and seventy-three pounds of him, goes flying through the ropes and down to the floor! The fans go nuts for it as Raynor quickly pulls the ropes open and follows him out!

“Wilson went right through the ropes, and he landed in a bad bad way right in front of us!”

Wilson hit the ground and rolled a bit, now resting back against the announce table when Raynor grabs him and jerks him back up to his feet.

“Yes! It’s about time we got some blood going!” Riley cries with glee, and he begins pointing frantically towards Funyon. “The chairs are over there!”

The crowd gets eager for the same reason, and cheer again as Raynor drags poor Wilson across the floor-

“No, the chairs are THE OTHER WAY!”

-to the ring, where he pulls Wilson’s head back and SLAMS it into the apron! Wilson’s head bounces back, but Raynor stops him from falling over, grabs his head, and does it a second time, then rolls him back into the ring.

“BOOOOOO! Come on Raynor, embrace the dark side!”

Raynor rolls in behind Wilson and jumps to his feet, as Wilson begins to crawl on all fours away from him. Raynor leans back into the ropes and uses the spring for some speed as he runs towards Wilson, leaps, and drops a huge elbow across Wilson’s back, stopping him in his tracks! Raynor again applies a headlock and slowly allows Wilson back up to his feet-

-Wilson puts his hands on Raynor’s back and shoves him forward! Raynor’s thrown into the ropes, and after taking one step out coming back, Wilson is suddenly right in front of him, and he catches poor Raynor and spins him around for a Tilt-a-Whirl backbreaker! A collective “OOOOOOH” from the crowd as it was a particularly hard backbreaker, and Wilson wastes no time in dragging Raynor back to his feet and whipping him into the ropes again. Wilson lets Raynor take a bit more time this time before he throws out his arm- Raynor ducks, and hits the opposite ropes! He’s coming-

“-back now-”

*CRACK*

“-and Wilson nails him with a Superkick!”

“Boooooring!” shouts Riley. “This is no DQ for a reason, guys - we want blood! We want blood! We want-”

“You don’t stop that chant, you’ll get blood, Riley.”

“Ooh, feisty! Fssst-fssst!”

Wilson places one foot over Raynor’s chest, and the ref counts!

ONE!

T- Raynor easily kicks out. Wilson doesn’t seem to troubled by it. He stoops down and grabs Raynor by the leg, and drags him toward the ropes, then climbs over the ropes himself. He drops down to the apron and reaches into the ring, grabbing Raynor’s legs and pulling him close to the edge - his legs, from the knee down, know dangle over the apron. Wilson then turns and heads for-

“The stack o’ chairs!” Riley cries, filled with glee. “Wilson heard my plea, and now he shalt deliver!”

Wilson carelessly grabs the first chair and ends up knocking the whole stack over. Oh well. He takes the chair in one hand and heads back for Raynor, who’s pulled on leg back into the ring. Wilson takes ahold of his other leg-

-Raynor yanks his leg in, dragging Wilson’s face between the bottom and middle rope, then sends his other foot rocketing right into Wilson’s face!

“OOOOOH!”

The heel of Raynor’s huge boot catches Wilson right between the eyes, and Wilson is knocked back into the guard rail! Raynor grabs the bottom rope and pulls himself out of the ring, then runs at Wilson and clotheslines him over the railing, into the fans! Immediately security hops over as well, to stop the masses from beating Wilson senseless!

“Get out of there, Wilson!” Riley cries, full of fear. “Keep your head down! Tuck and roll! Stop drop and cover! Just keep moving!”

Wilson gets to his feet and immediately falls back down to his knees, brushing up against a drink cup in the process. He looks down at it, then up to see Raynor climbing over the guard rail…

Worth a shot…

Wilson grabs the cup and heaves it forward, and the contents fly out at Raynor’s face!

Well, in the general direction of Raynor’s face. Raynor manages to avoid the dreaded “Dr. Pepper in the eyes”, but a piece of ice did hit his forehead. Wilson curses his karma before getting grabbed by the arm and Irish Whipped back into the guardrail! Security is having a tough time keeping the fans at bay, and one actually manages to break through!

“SECURITY! SECU-… oh wait…” Riley hits himself for that.

The breakaway fan goes straight for Raynor, but Raynor just pie-faces him and pushes him aside, then goes running for Wilson-

-who backdrops him over the guard rail! The fan rushes up to the guardrail and leans as far over as he can, screaming “Oh yea! Take THAT, you little shit! Oh yea!” Raynor swings his fist up and connects with nothing, as the ring guards FINALLY pull the kid back. Raynor drops his head to the mats and takes a deep breath, then spits all of that breath out as Wilson springs over the guard rail and drops a leg right across Raynor’s chest! He quickly pops to his feet after that, and quite a bit of the fans are actually cheering for him. Loudly. Wilson takes note, and smiles an “I love you too!” smile to his adoring fans… or rather, the ones who hate him less… then he grabs the chair and tosses it into the ring. He then picks up Raynor and…

“Uh… the chair’s IN the ring, Wilson!” Bobby notes. “You just threw it there. It’s not over here.”

“I think he knows that, Riley.”

“Then what’s he doing over here?”

Wilson stops in front of the announcers booth and hooks both of Raynor’s arms, then falls straight back, DDT-ing Raynor right into the ground! He then rolls to his feet and heads for…

“The ring bell! Goody goody gumdrops!”

Wilson holds the bell out and waits as Raynor slowly begins to clamber up to his feet. The very second he’s up, Wilson goes gunning for him, raises the bell-

*DING*

And Raynor is dropped like a sack of potatoes! Wilson steps over his body and places the bell on the steel steps, perhaps for later use. He then turns back to Raynor, dragging him up by his hair and rolling him back into the ring. Raynor tries to get up, but Wilson quickly rolls in and pounces on him, applying a front face-lock and forcing him back down, before floating over onto Raynor’s stomach and-

“-now it looks like Wilson’s… well, to put it bluntly-” Mark looks for the words.

“He’s beating the fuck out of him.”

“… I suppose you could put it that way.”

Wilson has Raynor pinned down beneath his legs, so both hands are free to be balled into fists and clubbed into Raynor’s head! Nobody bothers to try and keep count, though a rough estimate would probably be about twenty punches before Wilson gets off, leaving Raynor seeing stars. The Evil Genius takes a short victory stroll around the ring, then heads back for Raynor-

-Raynor plants his foot on the mat and pushes off, and he spins like a top on the mat! He extends his legs and they crash into the back of Wilson’s knees! Wilson drops to his knees, and before he can make any attempt to counteract Raynor rolls to his feet and tackles him from behind!

“A Rayn-A-Rooni! Well, sort of… I mean he didn‘t do the thing, but… you know… Oh go to hell, Stevens!” Riley shouts, as Mark just stares at him.

Raynor locks Wilson in a headlock and slowly brings him back up to his feet. Wilson wraps his arms around Raynor and tries for a suplex, but Raynor quickly jams his elbow into Wilson’s head, ending that endeavor. Wilson stumbles away into corner, and the moment he turns his back into it Raynor runs straight for him aaaand-

*SQUISH*

“Raynor’s mounting a comeback…”

Wilson takes three steps out, then spins on his heels and keels over!

“… and it looks like he may have been right about being able to hang on top!”

“MARK! You’re not supposed to doubt the good guys!”

“He’s not a good guy anymore, I can insult him all I want.”

“Hrm…”

Raynor quickly steps through the ropes and walks the apron over to the turnbuckle, and shimmies up the ropes! He takes a moment to steady himself, then takes the leap of faith-

-Wilson quickly rolls over and grabs the chair, then blindly swings the chair up and CLOCKS RAYNOR IN MIDAIR!

“WOW! Wilson finally makes use of the chair, and he makes it COUNT!” Mark is forced to shout, as the crowd pops BIG for that move. “Happy now, Riley?”

“VERY much so!”

Raynor falls in a heap, partially on top of Wilson, but the Evil Genius shakes him off and manages to slowly get up to his feet. No more cockiness, Wilson is bearing a full on snarl now - he takes the chair and waits impatiently as Raynor flails about, trying to get up… he only makes it up to one knee before-

*CRACK!*

“And Raynor goes down again! Here’s the cover!”

ONE!

TWO!

T- Raynor gets the shoulder up in time! Wilson rolls off of Raynor and grabs his arm, then drags him up to his feet and sends him into the corner. He then heads to the opposite corner, gets Raynor in his sights, and charges!

“Wilson’s going full speed and he… Connects with the Stinger Splash!”

Raynor begins to fall, but Wilson catches him by the arm and heaves him back into the other corner, then runs for him again!

“Aaaand… a second Splash connects!”

Wilson again grabs Raynor’s arm and throws him back to the first corner, and he again takes the charge-

-Raynor kicks both feet up and he catches Wilson in the face! He’s stopped dead in his tracks and falls back a moment as he checks his mouth for blood, then he steps up again-

-again Raynor kicks up both feet!

But Wilson CATCHES THEM! He jerks Raynor out, does a 180, and-

“Oh my God Mark, just Powerbombs the FUCK out of him!”

And Wilson rolls into the cover!

ONE!

TWO!

T

H- Raynor kicks out again!

Wilson is livid! He jumps to his feet and quickly scans the ring - ah, there it is… the chair. Raynor begins pounding the mat, almost out of habit expecting the fans to go along with it… he seems to be getting the energy, however negative it may be, and he rolls up to his knees, fists pumping, head shaking-

“Look out!”

*CRACK*

“And Raynor goes down after another vicious chairshot!”

Raynor falls flat on his back in the center of the ring, and Wilson takes a good long look at the chair in his hand… and smiles. He puts his foot under Raynor’s shoulder and kicks him up, rolling him onto his stomach…

“What the heck is he doing, Mark?”

“You got me…”

Wilson unfolds the steel chair and places it over Raynor’s back, with the seat facing Raynor’s legs… he looks down at it and frowns. It seems that the bar connecting the two back legs is actually balancing ON Raynor, and the legs of the chair aren’t touching the ground.

So Wilson stands in front of the seat, grabs Raynor’s legs and pulls them up, then sits down on the seat, MAKING the back legs hit the ground! The bar is forced into Raynor’s back, right down on his spine!

“Wilson is a GENIUS, Mark! I’ve been saying it all along! A Boston Crab on a chair, using it to keep Raynor pinned?! GENIUS!”

“More like insanely dangerous - he could break Raynor’s back with that!”

“And I’m sure Wilson cares so much, Mark.”

“… point taken.”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!

The two commentators snap back to attention to see Raynor’s arms flailing wildly, and his showing nothing but sheer terror and pain. He tries to push himself up, which is pretty stupid considering he’s got a two hundred and seventy-three pound man forcing a steel chair into his back - the results are about what one would expect…

… he collapses back to the mat and gives another AAAAAAAAAAAAAGH with a few “Son of a bitch”’s and “Fuck!”’s mixed in here and there. The referee is down on the mat, asking “Raynor, give up? Raynor, give up?” and the only thing Raynor can do is frantically shake his head and keep flailing.

“And even if he somehow manages to get to the ropes, which by my view is impossible, the ref can’t break the hold - I think Wilson’s got Raynor beat, Bobby!”

Raynor puts his elbows down on the mat and pushes again, getting the bar’s pressure of his neck, at least for the moment, and he can breathe normally. But you try supporting a huge man on a steel chair with your elbows - not gonna happen, and-

“Raynor falls back to the canvas again!”

“He’s toast!”

Raynor again begins frantically clawing at the canvas, trying to do something, anything, to get to the edge of the ring, maybe pull Wilson out, but the pressure from the chair allows for not a single inch of leeway! He drops his head to the mat and lets out another cry of pain…

Raynor clamps his mouth shut, gritting his teeth and determined to stop screaming. He plants his left elbow on the mat and puuuuuushes…

…lifting Wilson and the chair just a teensy bit off the mat! Raynor’s right hand then folds back and grabs the back-right leg of the chair, and with everything he’s got Raynor pushes up on his left arm and pulls the leg up - the chair, and Wilson with it, topple over!

“Oh my GOD… Riley, I don’t even want to think about how much it hurt to do that.”

Neither does Raynor, but he’s stuck with it for the moment, almost unable to move his neck. Wilson’s pride is hurt more than anything else, and he’s quickly back up and dropping huge elbows across the back of Raynor’s neck! A quick succession of four blows, then Wilson takes him by the hair and drags him up-

“-hooks his arm in the hammerlock… Northern Lights Suplex! Beautifully executed, dropping Raynor right back on that head and neck- Wilson floats over for the cover!”

ONE!

TWO!

T

H

R

E- Raynor kicks out, just barely!

“There’s no way Raynor can go on much longer like this,” says Mark, not entirely unhappy about it.

Wilson angrily gets to his feet and abuses the referee a bit, then turns back to Raynor and yanks the poor boy up to his feet. He faces Raynor now, and throws his arm over Raynor’s shoulder…

“Wilson could be looking for the Last Resort…”

But before Wilson can intertwine the legs, Raynor fires his free elbow into Wilson’s head! Wilson keeps his hold on Raynor after the shot, but not after the next two! Wilson lets go and takes a quick retreat, while Raynor collapses to the canvas, and begins a desperate crawl for the ropes! He reaches the ring apron and pulls himself half out, hanging right next to the steps, until Wilson catches up with him! Wilson leans through the top and middle rope to grab Raynor’s hair-

-Raynor turns over onto his back and swings his arms up!

*DING*

And Wilson falls flat on his back!

“The ring bell!” shouts Stevens, “The ring bell! I forgot it was even there!”

Raynor now slowly begins to crawl back into the ring, as Wilson just kinda sits there. Raynor brings the ring bell in with him, but he soon abandons it in order to grab the ropes and pull himself up to his knees… then his feet. He falls into the corner, trying to collect himself, and he suddenly whips around for fear of an attack…

… but all he sees is Wilson, just now starting to register signs of life. Raynor continues taking deep breaths, shaking the cobwebs, then he stumbles on over to Wilson and helps him up. Raynor bends down and scoops Wilson up, then heads toward the corner, nearly dropping him more than once, before hanging his legs over the top rope! He then pulls his fist back and…

… pauses…

… looks back…

… spots the chair! Raynor backs away from Wilson, who opens his eyes to see his enemy walking away and grabbing the chair… Oh fuck…

“Oh man,” says Mark, anticipation in his voice, “Wilson’s the last guy I’d wanna be right about now!”

Raynor holds the chair by the top and the bottom, then pulls it back and rams it forward-

ONE shot to Wilson’s midsection!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

FIVE!

SIX!

SEVEN!

EIGHT!

NINE!

TEN!

Raynor throws the chair back across the ring, then drags Wilson out of the ropes and across the ring before covering!

“That’s gotta be it - ONE! TWO! THREE- WILSON KICKED OUT!” Mark is forced to shout as the fans give an enormous pop out of respect! Raynor sits up, looking absolutely dumbfounded, both at the reaction and at how Wilson just kicked out of ten chairs driven right into his chest! Now Raynor is snarling, teeth bared and gnashing as he grabs Wilson by his hair and pulls him upright, then beats him back into the corner! After what must be at least two dozen punches, Raynor backs away from the corner and takes a quick breather, frustration painting his face.

“What the hell has he got to do? A shot to the head with the ring bell and a chair being rammed into his chest TEN TIMES didn’t put Wilson away!”

Finally Raynor makes up his mind, and he finds the chair and kicks it to the center of the ring. He then heads back to Wilson and locks his arms around him and, straining, somehow manages to lift him up to the top rope. The crowd begins to buzz in anticipation as Raynor climbs up to the second rope…

“Oh man… Riley… Riley, if he hits this, it’s over.”

Raynor throws Wilson’s arm over his shoulder, then grabs ahold of Wilson’s pants-

-Wilson takes his free arm and blasts Raynor in the face! Raynor falls off of the second turnbuckle, but manages to land on his feet and only stumble away - he shakes it off and runs for the corner, but Wilson gets a leg over the top rope and kicks Raynor away, then swings his other leg over and steadies himself on the second rope! Raynor is cradling his jaw and swearing like a sailor, facing the wrong direction as Wilson leaps off and clocks him across the back of the head with a huge flying forearm! Raynor’s launched into the ropes from the impact, and he clings on to them desperately to stay upright!

“Wilson’s mounting a comeback! I don’t think anyone predicted it would come this close, or that these men would take so much punishment!”

Wilson climbs to his feet via the ropes and takes a moment to breathe, then, seeing Raynor doubled over in the ropes, makes a quick trip towards him-

Raynor turns and quickly boots Wilson in the gut! He drags him away from the ropes and yanks him in, hooks his arm…

“I think he’s going for the new Acid Rayn!”

“I’m not sure he can pull this out, Mark!”

… and then hooks Wilson’s pants… grits his teeth… and puuuuuulls…

With a roar of pain, exhaustion, and pure determination, Raynor manages to lift Wilson up, up, up, and get him straight upright in the vertical suplex position! He immediately has to take a step back, as Wilson seem’s to be tipping backwards as well!

“Wilson is tipping back and forth, and Raynor’s having one hell of a time keeping him upright!”

Raynor overcompensates, and now Wilson starts to ever-so-slightly fall forward, and Raynor again has to play catchup! He manages to get Wilson to stop moving, but-

“I don’t think he can keep him up any lo- wait a minute!”

Raynor’s strength gives out completely, and he merely ends up letting Wilson go. Wilson is dropped straight down, down, down, and he lands in a VERY painful way, on the back of his head and neck! Raynor falls down next to him, winded to the very extreme…

“Both of these men have gone for the finisher, and both have taken too much punishment to hit it!” shouts Mark. “This can still go either way!”

And all of a sudden…

“I said Hallelujah-”

Crowd: RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!

“NO! NO NO NO NO NOOOO!” shouts Riley, pounding the announce desk and almost breaking a finger as Edwin “Mac Daddy” MacPhisto ROCKETS out from behind the curtain - CHAIR IN HAND!

“YES!” Mark shouts, “It’s Edwin! Give ‘em what for, Mac Daddy!”

Edwin makes it from the stage to ringside in three seconds flat, and his momentum slides him almost halfway across the ring! Raynor is just getting up to his feet, with Wilson still down for the count… Raynor falls into the ropes and hangs onto the top for dear life as Edwin winds up and waits…

“Talk him out of it, Stevens!”

“Like I hell I will! Raynor’s got this coming!”

Raynor looks out at the crowd, confused beyond belief. “They’re… cheering? … they’re cheering… me?”

Raynor turns around.

“… shit.”

CRACK!

Raynor is launched clear over the top rope from the impact, and he lands in a crumpled mess on the outside! Edwin leaps over the ropes and lands on the apron, and waits as Raynor dazedly gets to his feet, then he jumps off and-

CRACK!

“Edwin is absolutely DESTROYING his former best friend!”

Raynor’s dropped right back down to the floor, and a huge gash on his forehead is now letting a river of blood run free! Pulling together everything he’s got left, Raynor claws at the ring apron until he gets a firm hold on it, then puuuuulls himself up-

“Lookout!”

CA-FUCKING-RACK!

The fans, the commentators, even Funyon and the referee have their jaws dropped from seeing that chairshot. The gash on Raynor’s head stops bleeding and starts GUSHING, and he spins on his heels and falls flat on his back. This time, he doesn’t get up. Edwin throws the chair aside and grabs Raynor by the hair, soaking his own hands in blood but not really caring, and the rolls the ex-Carny into the ring, and then turns back for the ramp, and the fans are LOVING IT.

“Edwin just destroyed-”

“DESTROYED?! He farkin’ KILLED him, Mark!”

And as Edwin heads back up the ramp, walking backwards to keep his eyes on the ring, everyone turns their view back as well… to see Chris Wilson tripping over his own feet to get to Raynor! He huddles over Raynor’s body, and takes a few seconds to roll him onto his back before collapsing on top of him.

One.

Two.

Three.

“Wilson wins! Wilson wins!”

“I… I don’t know if I should be happy or not, Mark! I’m frightened and confused!”

*DING DING DING*

The fans are absolutely roaring with approval, and if Wilson can hear it he’s got to be extremely confused at this, but all the praise is directed towards Edwin, who stands triumphant at the top of the ramp!

“The winner of this bout… CHRIIIIIISSS WILSOOOOOON!”

The referee waits for Wilson to get to his feet… Wilson doesn’t oblige him, so Kivell stoops down and raises Wilson’s hand for a moment before letting it drop back to the mat.

“Wilson wins the match, but Edwin steals the show,” Mark shouts over the ever-increasing noise of the fans. “And Raynor - Raynor lost! Edwin may have interfered, but Raynor LOST! Will Stubby still hold it against him?!”

“I… I don’t know Mark! I’m just… AAARGH!” Riley slams his head into the desk repeatedly, ignoring the pain and how stupid it looks.

“Folks, we’re out of time, so we’ve gotta jet, but… man oh man, what kind of implications is this going to have for Smarkdown?! This isn’t the end for these two, that’s about the only thing I can say for certain! We’ve gotta split - join us next week, at Smarkdown!

As the commentators hang up their headsets, Wilson is kind enough to roll off of his opponent and lie down somewhere else in the ring. Cursing his very existence, Raynor somehow manages to hurt himself just opening his eyes…

… and he sees Edwin at the top of the stage, showboating to the fans…

This is not over.

September 14, 2002

Summary

JD vs. TNT

- An insane number of near falls here, but ...nutshot...nutshot...nut shot...JD's Revenge...and it's over.

Longdogger Pete & Renegade vs. Annie Eclectic & Danny Williams

- Apparently XF9 was holding Annie back because now that she's with M7, she just fucks people up. Annie T followed by Triple C...and M7 wins!!!

- Mr. Flesher finds another unique way to tell us all about his greatness...and he rags on Z in the process. Asshole. Oh, and any further mention of King being sexy will result in Cardboard Comet jobs for eternity.

Frost vs. Z

- The Carnival's new leader looks like he's going to top the snowman after he counters Frost's Blizzard of Oz...too bad he turns right into a huge chokeslam.

- And in some strange grand plan, JD fucks up my booking and sends Breggan down to some random farm league because apparently, Breggan sucks. Lerrin...step on him please.

El Luchadore Magnifico vs. Sacred

- Wow...out of no where, Sacred hits the Cruel Fate, and defeats the World Champion. Too bad it was non-title. Wait...who's that backstage?

- I'll tell you who he is...he's Sacred's opponent for Genesis III! That's who!

Divefire vs. Mercury

- THe old guys fight...like Flair/Hogan or something. And Riley gets his ass kicked by Stevens...making way for the return of NTD (not permanently, I hope). A fast paced match ends with a long-awaited Mercury win. He still owns the Ninja Brit.

Ash Ketchum & Xero vs. Perfect Bo & Jay Dawg

- JD takes Breggan's place, after sending the big man down to the minor leagues and fucking up my booking (asshole!). Still, in an upset of sorts...TNT, looking to take out Xero, hits JD and Ash pins the hardcore champ! But then he pays for it as the tag champs beat the shit out of him.

- Despite earlier commentary to the contrary, Tod is here and ready to fight. So they do. See Tom, that's what happens when you are too cocky...you get hit in the nuts and lose. Dumb ass.

Chris Wilson vs. Chris Raynor

- For the love of god...so many HTML tags! Despite all those, Edwin actually helps Wilson beat Raynor with a vicious chair shot to the ex-carnie. He must really hate Raynor now...and apparently, this is NOT OVER...as if it could be.

Da "so very tired...all of you suck ass" H

SWF Storm (September 13, 2002)

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