SWF Storm (Oct. 20/2002)

[Guest BA_Baracus]

[Loud music booms through the darkened arena.

 

As the music plays, a shower of deep blue sparks rain over the Smark-tron and down onto the stage. The sparks are followed by a series of huge explosions and then the Storm logo appears on the screen.

 

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

 

Mark Stevens - Once again I welcome you to SWF Sssssstorm!

 

Bobby Riley - Ssssstorm? Lay off the booze...you're sluring your words.

 

Stevens - Uhhh, that was for dramatic effect.

 

Riley - We're supposed to be announcers...we're not here to be overly dramactic.

 

Stevens - Right. Anyways, on with SWF Ssssstorm!

[Guest BA_Baracus]

HARDCORE MATCH

Ash Ketchum vs. Mercury

- Ash Ketchum will be facing Frost at the next PPV for the hardcore title, but Ash has mostly been involved in tag matches lately. He’ll try to get back to his hardcore-ish SWF roots in this match against Mercury.

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

 

FIRST BLOOD MATCH

Annie Eclectic vs. Tod deKindes

- This match in the best of 5 series was originally meant to take place on Smarkdown but was held off until Storm…and it better take place on Storm or Annie and Tod may find themselves in cement blocks at the bottom of the river near Stubby’s house.

Match Description – Regular DQ and count-out rules are not in effect. If a wrestler bleeds from any part of their body, they lose the match.

 

NON-TITLE SINGLES MATCH

Tom Flesher vs. CIA

- Flesher pinned CIA to win the Smarkdown main-event, and as such his mighty Canadian pride was wounded. Singles match on Storm!

 

TRIPLE THREAT ICTV #1 CONTEDNERS MATCH

Thoth vs. Perfect Bo vs. Mak Francis

- Thoth seems to have an issue with Tom Flesher, but so does Bo and while Francis doesn’t have a problem with Flesher, he’s a man on the rise in the SWF. Who will challenge for the ICTV title at the PPV?

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

[Guest BA_Baracus]

Flying back into Joe Louis Arena, where the freshly-hung Stanley Cup banner stands, we come upon fans, cheering loudly like bunch of girls watching Justin Timberlake. Those merchandise-wearing folk, with their Jay Dawg foam middle fingers (They make Jay Dawg merchandise? Weird...) and their Magnificent Seven shirts, and their foam World Title belts, and their Bemani Cross Wizards action figures, are excited, all trying to get on TV, some with signs, reading:

 

“JAY DAWG IS MY LOVER!!!” (Held up by a 300-pound, 60 year-old man)

 

“Look at me!I ‘m on TV!”

 

“BOBBY RILEY FUCKED MY DOG! HOW DISGUSTING!”

 

and

 

“Storm is Ketchum!”

 

Plus, we see two signs held by teens, who sit front row. One has short, spiked brown hair, wears Nike Flexon glasses and an Ash Ketchum shirt with his “I’m a Pokemaniac!” sign. The other, like the first, has spiked hair, though longer, and wears a brand new Logan t-shirt under a flannel shirt, his sign reading “HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”. Wonder who they could be. *wink*

 

And after we see some of those signs, we switch to the announcers table, where we are greeted with a big, happy-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Riley: I hate you.

 

Today, Bobby Riley frowns unhappily, as if you could frown any other way, disgusted upon finding out that someone painted a giant dick on his brand-new car. Riley complains as Stevens... well, he just sits there.

 

Stevens: Wasn’t me who did that.

 

Riley: If it wasn’t you, then I must suck.

 

Crowd: You suck! You suck!

 

Riley: I hate you fuckers...

 

Stevens: The people have spoken!

 

Riley: Well, at least I don’t suck like the Red Wings do.

 

The crowd boos loudly at Riley’s comment, but Mark is quick to the punch.

 

Stevens: No, Bobby. If you were a sports team, you’d be the Tampa Bay Devil Rays.

 

Mark turns around to face the camera again, and smiles happily. He is clad in his personalized Red Wings jersey given to him by Steve Yzerman. Lucky bastard. Wish I had one...

 

Stevens: Welcome back to SWF Smarkdown, where we are live in beautiful Detroit-

 

Riley: Beautiful? BEAUTIFUL?!?!?! Bah! I’d rather be in Colorado. At least they know how to play hockey.

 

More boos rain down from the crowd as Riley laughs to himself for a second. The boos catch him off guard, and he turns around, screaming at the fans:

 

Riley: Don’t even make me start on the Lions!

 

Stevens: And I’m not going to comment on that. Joined by the one, the only Bobby Riley, I’m “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens, live here in Detroit! And what an exciting match we have tonight!

 

Riley: Exactly, Stevens. It’s Mercury versus Ash Ketchum. Last time these two fought, well, I forget, but Merc’s gonna kick his ass tonight.

 

Stevens: Maybe so, but it looks like it’s time for this match to get underway, so let’s send it off to Funyon...

 

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.”

 

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...

 

Funyon: The following is a hardcore match scheduled for one-fall! Introducing first, from Los Angeles, California, weighing in at 233 pounds, he is a member of THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN... MERRRRRRRRRRRCURYYYYY!!!

 

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.

 

Riley: Ah Mercury, a true SWF legend we have been graced by his presence, and you, my friend, are not worthy to stand beside him.

 

Stevens: I bet Frost is watching this match with great anticipation, and also, great worry...

 

Riley: You can bet on that! Minus the worry part, of course.

 

Suddenly, the lights cut out, a kickin’ piano piece blastin’ over the speakers. The crowd begins to cheer a little, pyro similar to Christian’s entrance flowing from the top of the SmarkTron and spewing from vents in front of the entrance. The crowd rises to its feet, roaring with cheers.

 

Riley: Jesus... same old, same old, huh Mark?

 

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

 

Funyon: And his opponent, from Pallet Town, weighing in at 258 pounds... ASH KET-CHUMMMMMMMMMMMMM!

 

He climbs up onto the apron, then climbs in himself. Ash then climbs the turnbuckle closest to the crowd and with lightning precision, removes his shirt. Whirling it wildly over his head, he smiles as he releases the shirt, flinging several rows back into the hands of some JD fan. JD has fans? Whatever. The young child smiles as Ash dismounts the turnbuckle, turning to face Mercury, who seemingly vanishes for large amounts of time, the reappears.

 

Stevens: Mr. Nagasaki is recovering from injuries suffered last week at the hands of Frost, and that’s why he’s not here. Merc might win this one, but you gotta take into effect Ash’s 2 Hardcore Title regins.

 

Riley: Blasphemy! He got luck he beat Mak Francis last week. Now, it’s time for Mercury to show him how a real man fights!

 

The two men move toward each other, referee in the middle. Merc and Ash stare each other down as the referee explains the rules of the match to the two men once more. Once finished he backs off as the two men slowly back up to prevent the other from jumping them. And then, we hear...

 

“DING DING DING!” The two men begin to circle each other in the ring like sharks going for the kill, the crowd alive early on:

 

Crowd: KET-CHUM! KET-CHUM!

 

Stevens: The fans heavily favoring Ash right from the get-go here, and it looks like we’re underway!

 

The circle begins to tighten upon itself until the two men are mere inches away. Quickly, the two men hook up, tussling in a grapple hold in a test of strength. It seems like Ash should win, but Mercury does, sliding Ash into a front headlock. He tightens the noose around Ash’s neck, Ketchum placing his hands on Merc’s arm and trying to push his head out of the hold. Mercury smiles as Ash struggles, here and there throwing in a punch to Ash’s head to keep him from escaping. Ash continues to push, and eventually, he is granted the freedom he desires, headed back towards the ropes. Ash rebounds and strikes first, nailing Mercury with a clothesline, Mercury hitting the mat. Ketchum pounds away as Merc rises to his feet, sending Merc staggering back towards his own ropes. Ketchum quickly grabs hold of Mercury’s arm as he heads back towards the ropes, whipping him forward with a mighty heave. Mercury flies towards the ropes, bouncing off them and flying back at Ash. Ketchum leaps into the air, legs extended, implanting his feet into Mercury’s chest with a missile dropkick! Mercury is thrown back from the move as Ash Ketchum flips, landing on his feet while Mercury begins to recover.

 

Stevens: Quick work early on by Ketchum as he goes into his strategy.

 

Riley: Ash has a strategy? I always thought he just did whatever the hell he wanted to do.

 

As Mercury gets to his feet, Ash quickly goes to work, delivering a quick series of fast middle kicks into the chest of Mercury. Each kick knocks Mercury back further and further until he is nearly against the ropes. Then, Ketchum chooses to strike, grabbing Mercury’s arm once more and whipping him toward the ropes. Mercury flies toward them, hitting them and bouncing off of them. As he flies back at Ash, Ketchum leans down just enough, arms outstretched as he scoops Mercury up. Quickly, he spins and falls, slamming Mercury into the mat with a huge Irish whip powerslam! Mercury lets out a small cry as Ash holds him to the mat, pinning him for the first pinfall of the match!

 

One!

 

Two! Mercury kicks out! Ash Ketchum promptly grabs Mercury and pulls him to his feet with a snap. Mercury, though, breaks free of Ash’s hold with a quick poke to Ash’s eye. Ketchum releases Mercury and staggers backwards, grabbing his eyes, but Mercury grabs hold of him with both arms, forcing him into a grapple.

 

Stevens: Mercury and Ash Ketchum are certainly ready for this match-up! They’ve both come out string and ready to battle!

 

Ketchum tries to win out, but he eventually loses, Merc sliding Ash around into a quick side headlock. He tightens the noose around Ash’s neck, Ketchum placing his hands on Merc’s arm and trying to push his head out of the hold. Merc smiles as Ash struggles, here and there throwing in a punch to Ash’s head to keep him from escaping. Ash continues to push, and eventually, he is granted the freedom he desires, but in return, he gets a little confused. Merc drops to his knees, and as Ash moves forward, he trips over Merc, who catches him and throws him forward into a fireman’s carry. Ash lands on his back but scurries to his feet. Merc drops to his knees again. Trip, catch, fireman’s carry once more. Ketchum lands on his back again, this time, he gets up just a tad bit slower. This time, as he gets up, though, Merc is waiting for him, swinging his arm into Ash’s chest quickly, and-

 

“SLAP!”

 

“WOOOOOO!!!”

 

Stevens: Quick chop from Mercury! Ash is staggering back from that blow!

 

“SLAP!”

 

“WOOOOOO!!!”

 

Stevens: Another quick chop from Mercury to Ash!

 

Riley: Atta boy, Mercury! Give ‘em the old 1-2!

 

“SLAP!”

 

“WOOOOOO!!!”

 

Stevens: And yet another chop!

 

Riley: He just doesn’t wanna lose this one, does he, Mark?

 

“SLAP!”

 

“WOOOOOO!!!”

 

Riley: Guess not!

 

Stevens: Look in Ash’s eyes! He is in so much pain right now!

 

Ketchum grabs his chest and staggers back in pain after the fourth chop, barely hanging in there. Quickly, Mercury makes his move, grabbing Ash’s tights. Mercury then quickly lifts him straight up into the air before he quickly falls back, dropping Ash into a quick snap suplex. Ketchum’s back hits the mat as the ring shakes a slight bit, but in a matter of seconds, both men are back up onto their feet.

 

Riley: Man, what a suplex from Mercury! Woo! It’s amazing!

 

As Ash and Mercury charge toward each other, Mercury quickly leaps into the air, extending his legs out as he dropkicks Ash right in the face! Both men go down, both slowly getting back to their feet. They both nearly fall over as they attempt to get up, but both make it to their feet. Mercury, though, is a bit faster, grabbing Ash as they get up in a side headlock and pulling him up, too, but then, he quickly sprints a few feet before jumping into the air and dropping Ash down on his face with a running bulldog! Ash’s face hits the mat, and he is quickly rolled over and covered by Mercury, Kivell dropping ot the mat to make the count...

 

One!

 

Two! Ash kicks out! Mercury quickly pulls Ketchum to his feet, angered with the count. Grabbing Ash by the trunks and by his head, Mercury turns around, throwing Ash Ketchum through the ropes and to the floor below. Ash hits the ground with a “THUD!” and rolls up to the barrier outside the ring, grabbing his ribs with a speck of pain as he tries to get up. Mercury calmly steps through the ropes and onto the ground below. It’s time to go hardcore.

 

Stevens: Mercury needs to work those ribs of Ash Ketchum if he has hopes of winning this match.

 

Riley: And after what Frost did to him last week, you better hope Mercury works those ribs of Ash! Break ‘em in half!

 

Ash tries to pull himself to his feet while Mercury reaches under the ring with an arm and fishes around, several second later producing a singapore cane. He turns to face Ash, Ketchum pulling himself up and opening his eyes. Mercury takes a few quick steps, cane drawn up before it swings down onto-

 

“CRACK!”

 

Crowd: OOOOOOOHHHH!!!

 

Stevens: BAH GAWD! RIGHT INTO ASH’S HEAD! He’s flipped over the barrier surrounding the ring!

 

Riley: Now that’s how hardcore should be done!

 

Mercury places the cane on the apron and hops over the barrier swiftly, reaching Ash a matter of seconds after he collapses. Reaching down, he scoops Ash’s head up and pulls him to his feet, just so he can do one thing. That one thing, of course, being to grab Ash by the back of the head and push him forward repeatedly, slamming his ribs multiple times into the barrier surrounding the ring. Ash cries out in pain with each blow delivered to his chest, maybe hoping that there is some mercy inside Mercury’s soul.

 

Stevens: Mercury is savagely tearing Ash Ketchum’s ribs into pieces! He’s hell-bent on destroying Ash for his stablemate to tear apart next week!

 

Riley: Gotta love the teamwork!

 

Out of pure boredom, and tired of hearing Ash’s laments, Mercury stops the assault on Ash’s ribs, focusing on bringing him back into the ring to pin him as a vendor moves toward the action, trying to sell his wares.

 

Vendor: Popcorn, getcha popcorn right here!

 

As the vendor closes in, Merc lets Ash go, allowing him to get onto his feet. With Ash’s back up against the barrier, Merc backs up before he takes off at Ash, arm extended for a clothesline. Ash, though ducks underneath the clothesline, stepping forward and bumping into Mr. Vendor-man. Mercury stops after he realizes he missed, but Ash grabs hold of the vendor’s container, removing it from his posession.

 

Vendor: HEY!

 

Stevens: What’s he doing?

 

As Mercury turns around, Ash does the same, and lifting the tray up, brings it down with a plastic “THUNK!” upon Mercury’s skull. Popcorn flies everywhere as Mercury collapses to the floor and Ash discards the container.

 

Stevens: BY GOD, HE JUST HIM WITH THAT TRAY, AND POPCORN WENT FLYING EVERYWHERE!

 

Riley: Damn waste of food...

 

Reaching down, Ketchum grabs Mercury by the head and pulls him up, delivering a punch once in a while as he drags him up through the crowd towards the back, running into another vendor in the process.

 

Vendor: Soda pop! Getcha soda pop right here!

 

Riley: What’s up with all these vendors here tonight?

 

Once again, Ash grabs hold of the vendor’s container, removing it from his posession.

 

Stevens: He isn’t...

 

He lets Mercury go for a second, clutching the container with both hands, Swiftly, Ash lifts the tray up and brings it down with a plastic “THUNK!” upon Mercury’s skull. Pop cans flies everywhere as Mercury collapses to the floor and Ash discards the container.

 

Stevens: OH MY GOD! WHAT A HIT! POP CANS FLYING INTO THE CROWD!

 

Riley: That could put an eye out.

 

Stevens: What?!

 

Riley: ...Nothing.

 

While Mercury lies on the ground, Ash Kethum bends down, scooping up a can of pop, a Pepsi Twist can. Quickly, he pulls the tab up and opens the can, quickly chugging the entire thing in less than 10 seconds. He follows that up with a huge burp and then a wink and smile at the camera, the crowd popping loudly as several fans try to reach over security to touch Ash.

 

Riley: How disresepectful! Taking a break from a wrestling match to drink!

 

Stevens: And this coming from a guy who makes fun of people based on whether they’re gay like him or not...

 

Riley: When did I ever do that?

 

Reaching down, Ketchum grabs Mercury by the head and pulls him up, delivering a small, pretty weak punch once in a while as he continues to drag him up through the crowd towards the back and up the stairs towards the exit, running into a third vendor in the process.

 

Vendor: Peanuts! Getcha peanuts right here!

 

Riley: Hey, throw one down here, bitch!

 

For a third time, Ash grabs hold of the vendor’s container, removing it from his posession. The vendor begins to protest, but as Mercury tries to finally make a come back, snapping out of his daze, Ash shoves the vendor forward into him, the vendor tripping up and knocking Mercury down in the process.

 

Stevens: No, not the peanuts!

 

Riley: Whoa, settle down JR, don’t get so excited. It’s not like were watching another five-star Suicide King match, ya know...

 

Then Ash smashes the contianer over Mercury’s head, this time as he pushes the vendor off of him and begins to get up. Peanuts fly everywhere as Ash drops the container, instead bending over and slowly pulling Mercury to his feet. Once there, Mercury is dragged back through the entranceway arch and out into the concessions area.

 

Stevens: MY GOD, THE PEANUTS! THEY’RE EVERYWHERE!

 

Riley: And I didn’t even get one. Bastard.

 

The camera remains focused on the exit to the concessions area for a second, losing track of Ash and Merc.

 

Stevens: Now where’d they go off to?

 

Suddenly, another camera picks up the action, the cmaeraman running down the hall towards a Little Caesars concessions stand. We come upon Ash and Merc exchanging blows, the employees and customers vacating the area, leaving their purchases behind. As the two men rumble, Ash notices a small personal pizza left on the counter and quickly, he reaches back, grabbing hold of it. Mercury tries to throw a punch, but Ash ducks it, thrusting the pizza forward into Merc’s face. “SPLAT!” Burning hot pizza sauce, cheese, and pepperonis, all on a crispy crust, fly into Mercury’s face. The pizza falls off as he wears a different kind of crimson mask now, one made of pizza sauce, screaming:

 

Mercury: AAAAAAHHHHH!!! MY EYES!!! IT BURNS!!!

 

Stevens: And a pizza to the face by Ash Ketchum? Interesting choice of weapons here by one hell of a hardcore wrestler...

 

Riley: Hardcore? HARDCORE?!?!?! Look, Ash Ketchum has less hardcore in him than Suicide King has evil in his pinky, OK?

 

Stevens: But that’s still a sizeable amount, no?

 

Riley: Oh, no doubt.

 

Quickly, Ash Ketchum tackles Mercury to the ground with a weak tackle, landing on top of him and pinning him as the ref makes the count!

 

One...

 

Two...

 

Mercury kicks out! Ash can’t believe it as MErcury tries to get up, attempting to wipe the pizza sauce form his face.

 

Stevens: Two count for Ash Ketchum. Not a lot of pin-falls so far in this match, huh, Bobby?

 

Riley: Not yet, but it’ll pick up. Trust me.

 

Capitalizing upon an opportunity, Ash Ketchum grabs a distracted Mercury’s arm, whipping him across the hall towards a merchandise shop. Mercury reverses it, though, sending Ash flying across the hall. “CRASH!” Ketchum slams into a clothes rack as Red Wings t-shirts fly from the rack and onto the floor. Ketchum cries in pain, but slowly, he brushes himself off, much to the shock of several shoppers. Those startled partons let out cries of “LOOK OUT!”, but Ash hears them all too late, as when he gets up, Mercury swings a hockey stick into Ash’s chest! “CRACK!” The stick splinters as it slams into Ash’s chest, Ketchum collapsing to the ground, screaming in pain. Mercury quickly covers him, the ref making the quick count!

 

One...

 

Two...

 

Th-Ash kicks out! The crowd pops heavily as Mercury yells at the ref, grabbing Ash Ketchum and pulling him to his feet. Quickly, he begins to stomp at Ash’s ribs, kicking away at them as he grabs hold of the Poke Freak and drags him towards a near-by set of stairs.

 

Stevens: Now where is

 

Riley: Looks like to that metal railing over there.

 

Stevens: Mercury in control as he grabs Ash and slams him forward-oooohhh! Right into the railing!

 

“CLANK!” Ash’s ribs smack into the railing as Mercury pulls Ash back and pushes Ash down the stairs. Ketchum trips and tumbles down the flight of stairs, which takes a few seconds, and lands at the bottom, grabbing his ribs and crying in agony. Mercury quickly follows down the stairs and covers Ash for a pin...

 

One...

 

Two...

 

Thre-Ash kicks out! Knowing he’s got Ash almost done, Merc immediately grabs Ash, pulling him up onto his feet and delivering several kicks and knee blows to his chest.

 

Stevens: They seem to be in some sort of storage area now...

 

Mercury notices an open closet near by. He quickly grabs Ash, slowly pulling him to his feet and nearly dropping him, and grabbing his arm, whips Ash Ketchum towards the closet. Ketchum, though, reverses the move, sending Mercury into the closet! There’s a loud crash as Mercury collides with mops, brooms, and buckets, but as Merc lands in the closet, Ketchum walks up to the door and slams it shut on Mercury, the crowd popping loudly.

 

Stevens: DEAR GOD! MERCURY’S BEEN LOCKED INSIDE THE CLOSET! HOW WILL HE GET OUT NOW?!?!

 

Riley: I dunno, but Ash Ketchum is headed back this way. What joy. Go Ash, go. Wooo.

 

Suddenly, we hear a “THUD!” and the door flies open again, Mercury charging out of the closet, mop in hand. Ketchum continues to stagger towards the ring, but Mercury catches up to him, lifting the mop into the air and slamming across Ash’s back! “CRACK!” Ketchum collapses to the ground, grabbing his ribs in pain as the mop disintegrates, but Mercury quickly pulls Ash to his feet and moves toward the ring.

 

Stevens: Looks like Mercury’s coming back down here with Ash. He seems to be in a bit of a hurry.

 

Riley: Whatever. He just wants to win this.

 

Ketchum is helpless to stop Mercury from slamming Ash’s ribs into the apron before rolling him into the ring. Merc promptly gets to his feet, grabbing Ash by the head and pulling him up. Quickly grabbing him around the head, Mercury turns around so that Ash and Merc face back to back, and as quickly as he does that, he drops down to the mat in a sitting position, breaking Ash’s neck with a neckbreaker drop! Quickly, Merc goes for another cover as he turns around, the ref dropping to the mat yet again…

 

One…

 

Two-Ash kicks out again! Mercury can’t believe it as he slowly gets to his feet, looking for the singapore cane from before. He finds it, and grasping it, watches Ash Ketchum rise to his feet, waiting to finish this match off.

 

Stevens: Mercury’s got that singapore cane form before!

 

Riley: And he’s gonna smahs Ash in the head with it! YES!

 

Merc turns around, attempting to nail Ash with the cane, but as he swings it at Ash, Ketchum ducks. Mercury turns around, dropping the stick, and grabs Ash by the shoulders, leaping up onto them. Wrapping his legs around Ash’s neck, Mercury attempts to flip Ash back into a hurracanrana, but Ash instead pushes Mercury off his shoulders and neck, Mercury landing behind Ash, facing away from him. Quickly, Ash Ketchum hooks the arms of Mercury and falls back, dropping Mercury into a beautiful backslide neckbreaker!

 

Stevens: C4! C4 FROM NOWHERE!

 

Quickly, Ash Ketchum rolls himself forward, rolling MErc into a backslide pin as the ref drops down to make the count!

 

One…

 

Two…

 

THREE!!!!!

 

“DING DING DING!”

 

Funyon: The winner of this match ... ASH KETCHUM!!!

 

The crowd pops, but just at that moment, from out of the crowd, Frost enters the ring with the chair, climbing into the ring, and suddenly, as Ash begins to celebrate, Frost-

 

 

“CLANK!”

 

Smashes Ash’s ribs in with the steel chair. Ketchum lets out a cry of pain as Kivell catches the heinous act, but Frost knocks him down to the mat as he tries to step between the two men.

 

Stevens: FROST!!! Where’d he come from?

 

Riley: The locker room, dumbass. Duh.

 

Ash collapses to the mat, grabbing his ribs as Frost lifts the chair high, and-“CLANK!”-slams it into Ash’s chest again with another chair shot. He drops the chair afterwards. Ash screams in pain, grabbing his ribs and rolling in pain, but as he rolls onto his back, Frost bends over, grabbing Ash by the throat. He begins pushing his fingers deeper and deeper around Ash’s exposed throat in a chokehold.

 

Riley: Ash lost, but hell, he’s getting what he deserves!

 

Stevens: SOMEONE STOP HIM!

 

DING DING DING DING DING!” The ring bell rings in desperation. It is no use, though. The referees, backstage employees, and EMTs prepare to rush down to the ring from backstage, but nothing can stop Frost. The crowd explodes as Frost lifts Ash up, right over the steel chair, and quickly, he gets slammed down into a god almighty-

 

“CLANK!”

 

Stevens: CHOKESLAM! CHOKESLAM FROM FROST! ASH KETCHUM HAS BEEN BROKEN IN TWO!! BY GOD! ONTO THE STEEL CHAIR! KETCHUM’S RIBS HAVE BEEN CRUSHED!

 

Riley: Great, now how’s this gonna affect their match next week at the PPV?

 

Stevens: I don’t know... but I think Frost might retain... but damn! What a cheap blow from Frost! Damn him to hell!

 

Ash Ketchum lies out on the mat, knocked out, with no one coming down to the ring but staying away for fear that they will be hurt, but before we see what happens next, we fade away to commercial...

[Guest BA_Baracus]

Stevens: “What the hell is going on here?”

 

Riley: “I would say that Ash Ketchum just fulfilled his natural lot in life by having Frost kick his ass.”

 

The arena is still all abuzz over the ending of the last match. Ash lays mildly stirring in the ring while Mercury has left for the backstage area and Frost is moving through the crowd to a darkly lit stage off to the side of the main one. A large object, covered in a black tarp can be seen setting to the back of the stage.

 

Stevens: “We knew that Frost was not going to let Ketchum just stroll into their upcoming ppv match for the Hardcore Title, but what does he have hiding under that cover.”

 

Riley: “We need to send an intrepid, courageous journalist out there to clear everything up, but I guess we will have to settle for Ben Hardy.”

 

The camera cuts to show Ben Hardy readying himself to receive Frost on the tiny stage. The mammoth Icelander ascends the stairs to a chorus of boos. Hardy opens his mouth to speak, but Frost rips the microphone out of his hand and claims it for his own.

 

“You have been the bane of my existence for the past two months, Ash Ketchum.” Frost spits out with vehemence while staring straight at the camera. “When will you learn that I own you just like the Magnificent 7 own the rest of this federation? When will you learn that you are not worthy to be within my line of sight let alone being in the same ring with me?”

 

Stevens: “Harsh words.”

 

Riley: “The truth hurts.”

 

Ash has pulled himself up by the top ring rope and stares out over the strands, bruised and battered. A confused look adorns his face and he says something to a nearby ring attendant to find out what is going on.

 

“The most important thing you have to learn, face,” Frost spews the word out of his mouth as if had a nasty tasty, “is that there is nothing you possess that I cannot take away. You think you’re the King of Hardcore, when I wear the belt. You think you’re the King of the Gimmick Match when I destroyed you in a match while fully handcuffed. You think the upcoming ppv will be the happiest day of your life, just because you’re marrying your precious whore for the entire world to see. I can take that happiness away, I can obliterate your illusions and I’m going to let the fates help me.”

 

Frost’s voice fills with cold menace on that last phrase as his hand reaches back and grabs a fistful of the tarp. He wrenches it down with a fierce jerk to reveal…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stevens: “IT’S A GIANT WHEEL! SOME SORT OF CARNIVAL WHEEL! WHAT’S WRITTEN ON IT!”

 

Riley: “I’d say Ash’s worst nightmare.”

 

Ketchum gawks at Frost with unbelieving skepticism and waits for him to continue. The fans rumble with noise and Ben Hardy briefly retrieves his microphone.

 

“What is this?” Hardy asks Frost, just as perplexed as everyone else.

 

Frost twists the tarps in his iron grip, growing more boiled with rage as he turns back toward the camera to speak. “Ash Ketchum is going to make a pact with heaven when he marries his whore at the pay-per-view, so he might as well compliment it by making a pact with hell…and me.”

 

Frost fires a thumb at his chest. Ash begs for a microphone in the ring, doing his best to recover from the grueling match and Frost’s attack. Frost puts a caressing hand on the side of the wheel and moves it ever so slightly back and forth.

 

“You’re the King of the Gimmick match, face? You’re the King of Hardcore, face? This wheel features the most dastardly, brutal and hardcore matches ever conceived. At the ppv, all you have to do is spin the wheel and make the deal, face. A deal with the devil, a deal for your mortal soul.”

 

Stevens: “There’s an inferno match. A hardcore gauntlet? A stash the Ash? I don’t know what half of those matches even are.”

 

Riley: “But I bet they all hurt.”

 

Ash is handed a microphone and he raises it to his lips as the fans mutter and wait for his response.

 

“You know, Frosty, I think you’re getting too much bran in your diet.” The fans twitter at the barb and Frost swells with rage on the stage. “Nothing you can do is going to upset my wedding day. Nothing, not this toy wheel of yours, nothing. I might not be too happy about having to face you for the Hardcore title on my wedding day and I might not be feeling too peachy keeno about this wheel of yours, but……” Ash breaks for a long pause. He lowers his head and rubs his chin as if in deep thought. He then tilts his head up and looks back at Frost across the arena and points a defiant finger “if you have the Poke balls to take it, then so do I!”

 

Stevens: “Ash Ketchum accepts the wheel stipulation!”

 

Riley: “He’s like a fly to a spider, walking right into the web.”

 

“POKEMANIA IS GOING TURBO, FROSTY! AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGA!” Ash screams and pumps his fist in the air like he was pulling on a semi-truck’s horn. The fans explode with cheering.

 

Frost laughs with confident ease on the stage and shakes his head positively. “You’ve made the deal, Ash and come next Sunday you will spin the wheel. And while you’re standing at the alter earlier in the night, while looking in the eyes of your beloved whore, while you lay a hand on the kicking fetus in her gut, while you listen to the preacher’s words about for worse, about in sickness and for poorer, about until death due you part. Know in the back of your mind and the bottom of your heart and the interior of your soul that death might not be that far off.”

 

Frost gives the wheel a fierce spin and it whirls around on its axis. The camera zooms in on its twirling face and fades to black.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

We open up by showing replays of last Monday night's happenings between Tod deKindes and Annie Eclectic, where Tod took an unfortunate trip through a glass window, unofficially giving Annie a "victory" as she drew first blood.

 

Stevens: Folks, welcome back to Storm; and if you've joined us during Smarkdown, you saw Tod deKindes suffer an attack by Annie Eclectic where he was DRIVEN through a window!

 

Riley: He started it!!

 

Stevens: That's irrelevant for now, as the match got postponed Monday and will now take place TONIGHT! We've been assured that Tod was cleared to wrestle and, as a matter of fact, it's next.

 

Cut to backstage, where Ben Hardy awaits outside the XF9 dressing room.

 

Ben: All right folks, we're moments away from what should be now match # 3 in the Best of 5 series. The match that we were supposed to have seen last Monday night was a First Blood Match, but it was postponed for tonight, and tonight it shall take place. Right now I'm standing outside the XF9 dressing room, where U.S. champ Tod deKindes has been in all evening ever since he arrived to the arena here tonight. We've been assured that Tod WILL compete here tonight, as now I'm waiting for him to come out and hopefully get a few comments from the champion himself.

 

Right on that moment, the XF9 door opens itself and revealing Tod himself, walking out. Decked in his fighting gear, a number of bandages are noticeable on his forehead, chest and back area. He tries to head out to the Gorilla position, not even seeing the interviewer jamming a microphone in his face.

 

Ben: Tod! Coming up next is the first blood match that was supposed to take place last Monday night. Now, knowing that this attack by Annie Eclectic is going to put you at a disadvantage; how do you plan on maintaining a winning strategy and winning the series here tonight?

 

The wincing Tod, taking a second to clutch his stomach, obviously doesn't feel like chatting before his match. He shoves the interviewer aside and continues on walking.

 

Ben: Well, I guess we'll find out when these two get in the ring! Back to you guys.

 

 

 

Back to ringside, as junior referee Billy Chioda is stepping into the ring, being greeted by a nod of the head from Funyon. The man himself clears his throat and speaks

 

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, the following *First Blood Match* is Match Number Three in our Best Of Five Series for the SWF United States Championship!!

 

He pauses for a brief cheer from the crowd.

 

Funyon: To win this match, a competitor must draw FIRST BLOOD from his opponent so that he or she can be declared the winner! And now, introducing the participants...

 

The lights slowly dim, making way to a red spotlight searching the crowd; as "Angry Johnny" by Poe eases its way out of the speakers.

 

Funyon: First; from Indianapolis, Indiana. Weighing in at 175 lbs, she is the SWF Light Heavyweight champion: Annie - Eeeeeeeeeclectiiiiiiiiiiic !!

 

The Hardcore Queen walks out to a chorus of boos, and one might even be able to detect a few hints of cheers (it IS Detroit, after all) for the Light Heavyweight champion. She doesn't let that bother her however, as she remains faithful to her routine of annoying the front row fans, as the camera accompanies her during her visit down the ramp.

 

Annie: Look at this guy! You have to wonder which end the doctor slapped when he was born! Phoo - Wee!! (goes to leave, but...) Then again, I'm not sure I'd wanna touch that either.

 

After making enough fun of the random fan in the front row, she resumes her way to the ring, as she hops onto the ring apron. After quickly acknowledging her likeness on the giant video screen, she crosses the ropes, tosses her title belt to Billy Chioda and warms up in those same ropes; as 'Angry Johnny' slowly fades away. As the lighting treatment returns to normal (only to be changed again later in a second), we hear 'Cold' by Static X fire up...

 

Funyon: And her opponent, currently enjoying a 2 - 0 lead in the Series, he is also the SWF United States Heavyweight Champion. From Muenchen, Germany; weighing in at 225 lbs: - Tod - deeeeeeeeeee - Kiiinnn - deeeeeeeessssssssss !!!

 

As the lights make way for the usual blinding array of strobe lights and smoke accompaniment, out walks Tod; free of his trench coat and silver shades and carrying his title belt in his hand. From afar, the cuts on his body appear like no big deal, but it seems to be causing him more pain than imagined, as he is gingerly walking down the ramp.

 

Riley: Tod looks like he tried to shave himself with a blender!

 

Stevens: It's gotta be painful for Tod, with every step he takes, every movement he does. It's amazing he can even get himself to the ring.

 

Riley: Where he might bleed even MORE!

 

Tod walks up the steps, sends a cautious gaze towards Annie and then crosses the ropes. Before climbing up to the ropes for his honorary roar to the crowd, he and Annie lock eyes in an intense stare. After a few seconds, Tod finally breaks that stare so he can give his traditional shout out to the masses all while raising his title belt up high in the air. After dropping back down to the mat, Tod hands off HIS title belt to Billy Chioda, as he proceeds for a quick pre match frisk of both combattants. They both return to their respective corners as Chioda hands off the two title belts to the time keeper and orders the belt to be rung, signaling the start of the match.

 

Stevens: All right, match number three, First Blood rules, here we go!

 

Billy Chioda barely has enough time to step out of the way as both fighters DART out of their corners! Tod has his arm extended and looks just about ready to remove Annie's head, but she ducks. With a screaming kiai, she lunges forward at Tod's forehead with her hands but he quickly blocks it!

 

Stevens: And right off the bat, Annie is trying to dig into that bandaged forehead of the U.S. champion!

 

Riley: She's trying to dig her nails into his forehead!!

 

Stevens: But now Tod's blocking it and he quickly takes control with a solid knee lift to the gut!

 

Tod grabs the doubled over Annie by the arm and sends her running to the ropes with an Irish whip. She ducks another clothesline attempt, but on the second bounce off the ropes, Tod leap frogs high into the air; only to connect with a big flying forearm as he lands his feet back on the mat! Tod runs to the ropes and rebounds off, forced to leap over the rolling Annie Eclectic to avoid tripping. Annie starts to get up but therows herself back to the mat to force Tod to jump over her again... but Tod stops his forward motion and turns around as Annie gets back up to her feet. Tod charges forward with arm extended out, clobbering the Hardcore Queen.

 

Stevens: Smart move by the US Champ to avoid literally running into whatever trap Annie had set for him.

 

Riley: Or DID he?

 

Stevens: ...what?

 

Riley: Sure, think about it, what better trap could you set than... uh...

 

Stevens: Getting hit with a hard clothesline?

 

Riley: Hold on, I'm sure it'll come to me...

 

 

Tod drags Annie E up to her feet, but wraps his arms around her head and throws her over his shoulder in a snapmare. Tod follows up with a rear chin lock, tightening his lock around the throat of the Angel. Annie's arms flail out wildly as the hold sinks in, blocking air to her brain. The crowd cheers out for Tod, hoping he can end the match early. Annie reaches up to try and gain purchase on some part of her opponent... when she feels skin and rakes it hard with her nails. Tod's arms come away from the Queen's throat and bring his hands up to his forehead in pain...

 

Stevens: Eclectic goes back to that already scratched up forehead... Chioda is checking for blood...

 

Riley: DAMN! No blood, Annie might have gotten a quick win to get back in this series. She could be the first SWF wrestler to come back from an 0-2 deficit in a best of five series!

 

Stevens: ...Bobby, this is the first series of any length in the history of the fed.

 

Riley: EXACTLY!

 

Stevens: Oi vey...

 

 

Annie gets to her feet, throwing a hard right jab at her opponent. Annie follows with a second jab, third, fourth, forcing deKindes backwards towards the corner. Annie throws a hard left cross right onto the chin of the XF9er, slumping him onto the turnbuckles. Annie climbs up to the first rope and rakes her nails hard across Tod deKindes' forehead. Chioda looks on, looking for any sign of blood but not finding any. Tod's arms try to push Eclectic off but before he can bring any force, Eclectic hits him hard with a right hand to the forehead. Soon Tod's arms lose some of their strength, and Annie starts to chain her fist attacks. Four... five... six... seven... eight... nine... and then before she throws a tenth punch, Annie hops off the rope and sends her head foreward, headbutting Tod in the corner as she lands. Tod moves forward from the force, landing on to the mat face down. The crowd boos loudly as the Hardcore Queen takes control.

 

Riley: See? That was a wonderful plan! Play possum, take a couple hits, then come back strong and attack that cut up forehead in the corner! Brilliant plan, worked... well perfectly!

 

Stevens: *sarcastically* That's right, why didn't I see it before? I should have done that more in my career! Let myself get beat up just to counter attack my opponent! I can see it all so clearly now!

 

Riley: *oblivious* Well, you -do- tend to absorb greatness when you sit next to it twice a week.

 

Stevens: Really? -You- haven't gotten any smarter.

 

Riley: Hey now...

 

Annie rolls Tod over onto his stomach to look at his head, but it is still void of the red stuff. Eclectic stands up straight and stomps onto Tod's forehead a couple times before running to the ropes. On her return, Eclectic must leap over the rolling deKindes before hitting the other ropes and locking her arms around the top rope, halting her progress. Tod gets up onto his feet and sees the still Annie E and decides to charge, but the Angel ducks and lifts deKindes over her head! Tod finds a way to twist his body in mid air, and lands feet first on the ring apron behind Eclectic! Annie turns around in shock only to take a right hand to the face and get caught in a front face lock. Tod grunts as he lifts the Hardcore Queen up, straight up, and then falls back, dropping her hard onto the concrete!

 

Stevens: Suplex to the floor by deKindes! Great timing by Tod to swerve the momentum his way.

 

Riley: Bah, he's just trying a cheap knock-off of Annie's plan.

 

Stevens: Is there any chance of me getting you off this horrible "plan" idea?

 

Riley: Probably not.

 

Stevens: I could bring NTD back here...

 

Riley: ...I'll be good.

 

Tod hops down from the apron and walks up to his fallen opponent. Dragging her up by her hair, Tod grabs Annie's wrist and irish whips her towards the steel steps. Right before impact, Eclectic manages to twist herself around to take the blow onto her back. After watching his opponent slump into a seated position on the floor, Tod goes onto his knees and lifts the ring apron up. Rummaging around underneath the ring, Tod comes back out with a smile... and a stop sign.

 

Stevens: These two have put on some incredibly brutal matches, but Tod gets to the weapon bin first. I can't blame him, as this match was going to turn into a brawl at some point, Tod might as well start it off this time.

 

Riley: Huh, and you advocate that? Hitting a defenseless innocent woman with a stop sign?

 

Stevens: I think Annie E lost her innocence the moment she flipped.

 

Riley: What's that?

 

Tod charges towards the steel steps, stop sign ready to attack... but hits plain steel as Annie E barely rolls out of the way. Tod makes another swing towards the Hardcore Queen but just barely misses as she crawls away from the US champ. Annie gets up to her feet and tries to counter attack... but gets NAILED on top of her head full force with the stop sign. Eclectic's legs turn to jelly as she starts to slowly melt to the floor... and then gets helped as Tod hits another home run by swinging the sign right into Annie's face. The Angel flies backwards to the mat and lands completely still. Chioda looks over the ring ropes but still sees no sign of blood.

 

Riley: That's right kids, look up to Tod deKindes, because he hits women with stop signs!

 

Stevens: Bobby, you know damn well if Annie got to that sign first she'd be playing golf with Tod's head and it wouldn't have stopped at two shots.

 

Riley: True, but I'd have loved to see that.

 

Again, deKindes brings Annie up to her feet and puts her head underneath his arm, cinching in a headlock. He quickly falls back, driving Annie's head onto the concrete floor with a DDT. The force causes Annie's body to arc up and stand straight up on her head for a split second before she crumples up onto the floor.

 

Stevens: VICIOUS DDT onto the floor! Annie may just be out and at his mercy. Any show of blood by either fighter will end the match. He could simply grab a razor blade somewhere, give her a quick cut and that would be it! End of series, and deKindes retains!

 

Riley: Hold up there, cowboy. Where would Tod find a razor blade around here? I mean, come on, this is a wrestling league. Why would anyone have a blade near the ring?

 

Both Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley look each other in the eyes for a second, and then stare straight into the camera.

 

Stevens: ...anyways, back to the action as Tod gives the Hardcore Queen a couple of stomps to the head...

 

 

Tod brings his attacking foot back onto the ground, and then kneels again to duck his head underneath the ring.

 

Stevens: Looks like Tod is about to introduce another weapon of destruction to the match.

 

Riley: Disgusting. He is -not- a gentleman.

 

Stevens: What? And Annie E is a lady??? Please, Tod is simply taking the hardcore to the Hardcore Queen.

 

Tod comes back out with a grin on his face... weilding Annie's own Kendo Sword. The crowd pops huge as Tod brings his opponent's signature weapon up over his head. Tod looks down at the hilt of the sword, finding a small latch on it. Unlaching it, he pulls on the wooden blade... to reveal the sharp metal one underneath! The crowd collectively gasps as the shining glint of metal is caught but the closer members of the audience.

 

Riley: Oh, -this- is honorable, let's use a deadly weapon of beheadedness against a small woman! Do you beat on your wife like that jerk?

 

Stevens: BOBBY! That was incredibly uncalled for! Anyway, it's sharp, and you don't have to get a lot of blood, even just a drop ends this match. I'm sure Tod would never endanger -anyone- like that.

 

Riley: Don't be -too- sure Mark. We still don't know what happened to Sara...

 

 

Tod brings the sharp metal sword back in an attack pose. Slowly and carefull he walks over to his fallen opponent. Bringing the sword high up into the air, Tod brings the blade down fast towards Annie E's head... and purposely misses by an inch! The crowd lets out the air they had held as their favorite winks to the crowd, and then slowly brings the blade to the fleshy part of Annie's cheek... but then drops the blade as Annie's foot ends up solidly into Tod deKindes' groin. The US champ keels over and drops to his side, allowing the Hardcore Queen to rise to her feet and grab the sword herself.

 

Stevens: Oh no...

 

Riley: YES! That bastard nearly took the Queen's head off, and now she's going to make her own decree! My wit has no end! OFF WITH HIS HEAD!

 

Stevens: Bobby, this isn't a literal -death- match! Chioda should get that blade from Annie if she looks a liitle too crazy for this...

 

Annie grabs the metal sword... and the wooden sheath from the ground. Sliding the metal back into place, Annie firmly re-clasps the Kendo Sword into it's whole state, then walks over to her recovering enemy...

 

Annie: *screaming* TOO EASY, HUH? AM I NOT BEING CHALLENGING ENOUGH? GONNA CUT ME WITH MY OWN BLADE AND FINISH ME UP NICE AND NEAT? WELL THEN, LEMME... -UP- THE CHALLENGE THEN!!!

 

With that Annie takes a healthy swing and cracks it directly over Tod deKindes' head. A large "ooooh" comes from the crowd as Tod takes the hit... and still tries to get up to his feet.

 

Annie: OH I'M SORRY, WAS THAT TOO EASY AS WELL? FINE THEN! HAVE ANOTHER ONE!!!

 

Annie brings the sword down hard onto Tod's forehead again, dropping Tod back down to one knee, but he still continues to rise up against his foe.

 

Stevens: Annie has flippin lost it!

 

Riley: I'd be damn pissed to if I nearly lost my head to my own sword!

 

Stevens: It's too late, she already lost it!

 

Riley: Bad joke, and I caught that awful flip reference too, jerk.

 

Stevens: Please, you get one of my quips out of the other hundred I say tonight and you think you're a comic genious.

 

Annie's face grows redder and redder as she continues to strike deKindes over the head with her bokken, but watch in amazement as Tod keeps rising to his feet. The crowd gets behind the XF9er, chanting "de-Kin-des! de-Kin-des!" as their hero continues to challenge the Hardcore Queen to keep him down. Another strike, and Tod's knees barely buckle. Straightening himself up, Tod takes another shot to the head, but only flinches....

 

Annie: GOD DAMN YOU! STAY *hit's Tod with her sword* THE *another strike* F*** *one more over the forehead* DOWN!!!

 

With that, Annie E changes her stance from a sword fighter to a golfer, bringing her sword back in a swing and then driving it forward straight into Tod's groin, dropping the champion back down to the concrete. The crowd jeers with all their might, disapproving of a second low blow, with a weapon.

 

Stevens: Damn her! She couldn't drop him with shots to the head, so she takes a golf swing and takes him down with a sword to the nuts. I swear, if she brags about dropping the champion with that strike, I'm coming out of retirement and dropping -her- to the concrete.

 

Riley: We need blood for a fall, Mark. Golfer nutshots are legal. And that reminds me, SWF Storm is brought to you all tonight by "Outlaw Golf" for the XBOX! Brought to you by Vivendi, this game combines the hardcore brutal action that you all love with everyone's -other- favorite sport, Golf! Play as a disco doctor, a lapdancing slut and her lesbian lover, an Asian mistress and her fat caddy, and many more. Golf plus Violence equals family fun in: "Outlaw Golf"! By Vivendi for the XBOX.

 

Stevens: ...Storm isn't sponsored by them.

 

Riley: *cough* Heh heh... of course they are, why else would I have said that then?

 

Stevens: ...You're cutting me in on that payoff aren't you Bobby?

 

Riley: Damn.

 

Annie drags Tod up to his feet, and puts him immediately in a front headlock. With her free hand, she slips the Kendo Sword across deKindes' throat. The crowd boos harder as she attempts a sword-assisted DDT.... until she takes a hard right into the gut! Annie's torso bends forward slightly but the straightens up to attempt the DDT again.. but gets a second punch in the gut! A third one... a fourth one... a fifth one releases the headlock!

 

Stevens: He's coming back! Tod deKindes, showing the heart of a true champion. Beaten, battered, and most importantly -not- bloodied... Tod is attempting to take back control of this match from the Hardcore Queen!

 

Riley: It won't matter! Look how weak those punches are! Annie can take this away at any point... I hope....

 

 

Tod sends a quick kick out into the stomach of Annie, doubling her over. He tries to apply a front face lock, but Annie E pushes him away quickly, avoiding whatever attack he was setting up. Annie straightens up to see Tod charging towards her with an arm out to hit with a lariat, but Annie ducks and slides behind him. Both fighters turn around, but Annie shuffle steps up and stikes hard with a superkick, knocking Tod deKindes to the concrete! Annie walks up to her fallen opponent...

 

Annie: TOO EASY HUH? WAS THAT EASY? LEMME SHOW YOU WHAT'S EASY....

 

 

Stevens: What is Annie E going to do? Can Tod get out of it?

 

Riley: Stop sounding like the announcer for Batman, the woman is going to show that she is not only on par with deKindes, but -better-!

 

Stevens: The bell hasn't rung yet Riley...

 

 

Annie brings Tod up, and then wraps her arms around her opponent in a gut wrench position... but simply lifts him up into an inverted piledriver position. She slowly and carefully walks over to the steel steps and takes a deep breath...

 

Stevens: Oh no...

 

Riley: Oh Yes!!!

 

Stevens: No, not the Hollowpoint! This move is dangerous enough on it's own, but not on the outside...

 

Riley: Or on the steel steps, Mark! Steel steps! I have goosebumps!

 

Stevens: Annie Eclectic hit this on Silent, and even -Silent- went down and stayed down. Something about Tod must have hit a nerve... I can't watch.

 

Riley: I can! *takes out popcorn*

 

Stevens: You sick freak.

 

Annie grunts, and lifts Tod's limp body up, forming an upside down "L" with both their bodies. As soon as Tod's body becomes parallel to the concrete floor... Annie drops and sits out, pounding Tod deKindes face first into the corner of the steel steps. His body flails back hard upon impact, causing a woman in the front row to start screaming and crying in horror. Tod rolls onto his back and lies still, as Annie reaches for her Kendo Sword. She unclasps the blade and begins to pull out the metal sword when...

 

 

DING DING DING

 

 

... Billy Chioda sees the re-opened wound on Tod deKindes' forehead. Annie looks down at her opponent, and reluctantly re-sheaths the blade. Clasping it, she puts it on her shoulder and raises her arm slowly into the air.

 

Funyon: The winner of the third match, by first blood... Annie Eeeeeecleeeectic!!!

 

 

"Angry Johnny" begins to play over the arena PA system as the boos rain down. Annie walks over to the time keeper's table and picks up her Light-Heavyweight belt. Putting the belt over her shoulder, she also looks upon the United States Championship. She takes it into her hand and raises it above her head as she absorbs the jeers of the crowd.

 

Stevens: At least she didn't attack him after the bell, pretty much the only highlight in this brutal, bone breaking match. Annie E draws first blood in the overkill of all overkills, a Hollowpoint Driver to the steel steps. Please, that was uncalled for.

 

Riley: You want to talk uncalled for? Annie E is first ridiculed as someone that can't win against a German freak, and nearly lost her head literally, what you and the crowd see in that ungrateful bastard I'll never know.

 

Annie Eclectic plops the belt back onto the table, and simply walks back up the ramp to the backstage area.

 

Stevens: Well, there's more to come, both in this series and on this show. It's 2-1 Tod deKindes, and Annie still can't afford any mistakes... and stay tuned, 'cause we have Tom Flesher versus CIA in a non-title match, and then a great ICTV number one contender match with Thoth, Perfect Bo, and the "Franchise" Mak Francis! More action and mayhem to come on S W F Storm!!!

[Guest BA_Baracus]

Fade in on the Joe Louis Arena in Detroit, Michigan. The camera surveys the capacity crowd, on their feet with the standard "GRAND SLAM" chant, before sweeping up to catch a shot of the Red Wings' brand new Stanely Cup Championship banner. Finally, it swings over to the SmarkTron, which lights up with photos of Tom Flesher on the left, holding his ICTV Title over his shoulder, and CIA on the right. The words "FLESHER VS CIA" scroll across the bottom of the screen, and with that, the camera pans over to Bobby Riley and Mark Stevens at the announce table.

 

"Fans, welcome back to this special Sunday edition of SWF Storm. Unfortunately, as I mentioned earlier, we were preempted on Friday due to George W. Bush's fondness for cornbread. This was especially depressing in light of Smarkdown being postponed due to Prime Minister Jean Chretien's speech on the merits of pumpkin scones."

 

"God damn hosers and their pumpkins. Christ. Next you'll be telling me they have Thanksgiving on Columbus Day."

 

"Bobby, you're reading from the Smarkdown joke sheet."

 

"Whoops." Riley shuffles his papers around. "There we are. 'God damn hicks and their cornbread. Christ. Next you'll be telling me he only spends about two weeks a year in the White House.'"

 

"Much better, though I don't see why making fun of W makes you a heel. In any event, we've had an exciting evening up to this point, including Kamen Roja's exiciting return to the ring against Xero and a first blood match to continue the series between Tod deKindes and Annie Eclectic!"

 

"And then there was Ash taking on Mercury, which was nothing special."

 

"Touche. But right now, we've got an extension of the main event from Smarkdown, in which the East Coast Legacy took on the two members of the Midnight Carnival. Tonight, the Superior One will take on the Canadian One in a non-title encounter!"

 

"I'm surprised CIA's even willing to compete tonight afterr the work Tom and Mak did on his ribs," says Riley.

 

"He's a competitor, Bobby, and who'd expect any less? Let's go to the ring!"

 

Funyon announces, "The following non-title contest is scheduled for one fall!"

 

The lights in the arena change, slightly, everything acquiring a red tinge, as the SmarkTron flickers to life, portraying a Canadian flag, flowing in the wind, and the instrumental accompaniment to 'O Canada' playing. Or at least, the first verse, before....

 

*BOOM!* A bright red rush of pyro shoots up along the stage, glittering points of red light slowly drifting down from above, and a voice rings out, accompanied by the opening riff to 'Secret Agent Man', and the emergance of a masked figure, microphone in hand.

 

"Ladies and Gentleman!" C.I.A. poses for a moment, basking in the cheers that are directed towards him. "Greetings from the frozen north!" Walking down towards the ring, C.I.A. slaps hands with all the fans he passes. "Buy yourself a Canadian Beer, and get ready to have your eyes opened!" Making his way under the bottom rope, C.I.A. rolls in to the center of the ring, coming to his feet and extending his arms out to the sides, canadian flag dangling from the undersides of each arm, before bringing the microphone to his lips and tossing his head back one last time. "Raise your voices up, let the people smile! Cause I'm here, and I'm bringing the CANADIAN STYLE!" Removing his jacket, C.I.A. hands it to an attendant outside the ring, along with the microphone in his hands, taking his place in the corner and smiling up at the last images of his entrance video. As CIA is shown sneaking around the roadsign for Calfass Road in Guelph, the video and music fade out.

 

"Currently in the ring, from Ottawa, Ontario, Canada and weighing in at a lean, mean 237 pounds, the Canadian Intelligence Agent... C...I...A!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

 

The fans pop loudly for CIA, who acknowledges them before the lights dim once again. The SmarkTron goes white with the blue words "SUPERIORTY COMPLEX" and "MAGNIFICENT SEVEN" on it. Then, with an explosion of blue pyro, "Kashmir" by Led Zeppelin bursts out over the loudspeaker. Tom Flesher emerges from the cloud of smoke, striding confidently to the ring as videos of his signature moves alternate in half-second clips with the words "SUPERIOR ONE," "AWARD-WINNING," "MAIN ATTRACTION" and "MAGNIFICENT SEVEN." Flesher enters the ring and poses in the center, head bobbing in time with the music, until the symphonic hook at 50 seconds in, which cues a machinegun-like burst of blue and white pyro from each corner.

 

The music fades, and Flesher motions to Funyon. "Ladies and gentlemen," the snack treat says, "standing in the ring right now is one of the top workers in the SWF... nay, the world, today. He's capable of caryring the proverbial broomstick- say, Thoth- to a four-and-seven-eighths star encounter simply by virtue of his charisma. He has put on numerous matches of the year. Unfortunately, you won't see one tonight, because he's up against a Canadian, which is not only as bad as a broomstick, it's worse. So ladies and gentlemen, remember this when he's trying desperately to carry CIA, and put your hands together for 213 pounds of superiority, bow down to your ICTV Champion, bow down to the Superior One, Tom Flesher!!!!!!!!!"

 

Flesher sets his belt in the corner on top of his warmup, and Sexton Hardcastle calls for the bell.

 

 

DING DING DING!!!

 

 

Flesher and CIA circle around each other. Flesher carries himself a bit more confidently, but the determination in CIA's eyes is obvious. Flesher steps forward to lock up, but CIA backs out and catches Flesher with a swift elbow strike to the jaw. Flesher steps back and throws a palm strike to retaliate. CIA dodges it, though, and Flesher quickly drops to the mat to grab the Canadian's ankle. He follows through into a single-leg takedown, and CIA hits the mat belly-down. Flesher keeps the leg, lifting it up for an elevated half crab, but CIA simply extends the leg and refuses to let Flesher re-bend it. Giving up on the single-leg crab, Flesher instead opts to headbutt CIA in the ribs. CIA curls up around the ribs reflexively, and Flesher backs away.

 

"That move was elegant, yet still effective," notes Riley in a tone usually reserved for discussion about fine wine. "On a scale of one to ten, I give it 16 stars."

 

"Bobby, he just headbutted him."

 

"And he did it with flair!"

 

After a moment, CIA re-extends his body, hugging the mat in hopes of discouraging Flesher from trying any more mat-based holds. "And CIA's exhibiting a sound strategy," points out Stevens. "Even with injured ribs, if CIA turns this into a match about drive, instead of technique, he can walk away with it."

 

"Oh, you mean if he takes this wrestling match and takes all the wrestling out of it?"

 

Flesher backs away, coming back to his feet. CIA quickly follows, getting to his knees and spinning around... right into a waiting boot to the face! CIA falls back, surprised and stunned, and Flesher knocks him back to the mat with another kick for good measure! Tom drops down onto him, arrogant as can be, and Hardcastle counts

 

ONE

 

 

but no more, as CIA kicks out almost immediately. CIA rolls to his stomach and pushes up to his knees, but Flesher catches him on the way up by threading his arm under the Canadian's neck and locking on what he intends to be a Dragon sleeper. Before he can secure the hold, though, CIA grabs the arm, wrenches it and rolls, slamming Flesher face-first into the mat! The crowd pops for the innovative counter, and CIA comes out on top of and behind his adversary.

 

"What a counter by the Canadian Intelligence Agent!" says Mark Stevens, clearly impressed. "You can tell that CIA's been watching his films!"

 

CIA keeps his hold on Flesher's arm and wrenches it quickly before throwing a stiff elbow into the shoulder. Flesher recoils, and CIA backs off before hitting the shoulder again with a spinning heel kick. Flesher grabs his arm and falls to the mat, and CIA dives on top of him for

 

ONE

 

 

but, like CIA, Tom kicks out before the two count. CIA attempts to throw an armbar on, but Flesher rolls away to the ropes. He grabs the middle, pulls himself to his feet and turns around to face CIA.

 

CIA grabs Flesher by his tender left arm and whips him to the ropes. Flesher bounces off, and as he charges toward CIA, he ducks a bionic elbow. CIA turns around just in time to see Flesher bounce off the opposite side and jump forward, hitting CIA in the chest with a lunging palm strike. Flesher lands prone on the mat, but the shotei knocks the wind out of CIA and the Canadian is unable to capitalize on Flesher's poor positioning. Tom takes advantage of that fact and gets to his feet, then drives the laces of his trademark Doc Marten boot into the left side of CIA's ribcage. CIA grimaces in pain, and Flesher responds by booting CIA in the ribs again. With CIA doubled over and in too much pain to defend a hold, Flesher steps around him, wraps his leg around his opponent's and applies an abdominal stretch! As CIA tries to wriggle free, Flesher inches his way toward the sidelines until the ropes are just under an arm's length away.

 

"Flesher's applying an abdominal stretch to stress the ribs of the Canadian Intelligence Agent," notes Stevens. "He's really working them over to take advantage of the East Coast Legacy's work in the previous match."

 

"And that's why I keep telling you, Flesher's got the brains around here!"

 

Hardcastle drops to one knee to ask CIA if he wants to submit. Flesher, knowing an opportunity when he sees one, grabs the top rope and uses it to increase the leverage of the hold. CIA screams out loud, and Sexton Hardcastle (being Sexton Hardcastle) asks him again if he wants to submit. CIA grits his teeth and shakes his head 'No.' The fans in the front row start screaming and pointing to the ropes, just as Flesher lets go. The official looks up, sees the ropes shaking, and asks Flesher, "Are you using the ropes?!" Tom looks at Hardcastle like he just accused him of raping and murdering a girl after a party and vehemently denies any wrongdoing. Hardcastle nods suspiciously, then drops back down to his knees to ask CIA again whether he submits. Dutifully, the ICTV Champion immediately grabs the top rope. The fans resume their screaming and pointing. Flesher answers them by briefly letting go of the rope, flipping them off, and then gripping the top strand even harder. He pulls the rope as hard as he can, using it for incredible amounts of leverage. CIA winces and looks like he's in terrible pain, but he refuses to submit. Once again, Hardcastle hears the fans and looks up to the top rope, but Flesher quickly lets go.

 

 

"Look at that! Flesher's just manipulating poor Sexton Hardcastle!"

 

"I know," says Riley. "It's kind of sad that CIA has to pay the price for Sexton being too dumb to work a zipper, much less catch Flesher using the ring to his advantage. I almost feel bad for him... and then I remember, hey, he's Canadian."

 

Sexton looks at Flesher suspiciously and asks again, "Are you using the ropes?" Flesher looks even more offended, as if Hardcastle had now implicated his inability to drive a stick shift into the prior accusation of rape and/or necrophilia. Once again, Tom denies any impropriety, and the ref drops back down to one knee. With his free hand, Flesher wipes his brow sarcastically, then grabs the top rope once more.

 

"This is ludicrous!"

 

"This is great!"

 

CIA cries out in pain as Flesher keeps pressure on the abdominal stretch. The fans go absolutely crazy, screaming at Hardcastle to look up, but Flesher continues holding the ropes. By a sheer accident of luck (because, let's face it, he's a little dull to be catching on to heel tactics), Hardcastle happens to adjust his viewpoint just enough to see Flesher's hand on the ropes. With that, he stands up and kicks Flesher's arm, forcing him to release the ropes and setting him off balance. With that, CIA uses the arm that Flesher had hooked and shifts his weight, throwing Flesher to the mat with a high-amplitude hiptoss! CIA doesn't make a cover, though, as he's too busy holding his sore ribs!

 

"That was SHAMELESS!" spits Bobby Riley. "CIA was just about to submit, when Sexton Hardcastle suddenly feels the need to interfere in this match! What poor sportsmanship! How can he affect the match like that?!"

 

"But if Flesher had cheated his way to victory, that would have been okay?"

 

"I'm glad you're FINALLY starting to make sense, Grand Spam."

 

CIA grabs the ropes and starts to pull himself off the mat. Flesher shakes off the cobwebs, pausing for a moment on his knees before slowly pushing himself to his feet. Regaining his senses, he steps toward CIA and whips him to the ropes. CIA staggers toward Tom, who throws his foot up for a Yakuza kick. CIA ducks, sliding under the leg and coming out behind Tom. CIA bounds to the opposite ropes and, as Flesher turns to face him, enters a quick spin. CIA completes a full revolution and nails Flesher in the jaw with a Roaring Elbow! The fans pop for the stiff-as-hell move, and Flesher falls backwards like a tree being felled! CIA drops onto him for

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THRE- NO! Flesher kicks out at the last second, and he scoots away from CIA. CIA grabs him by the left arm and pulls him up into a hard Irish whip into the corner, then charges in after him and nails him with a dropkick to the chest. Flesher staggers out and takes three slow steps, looking like he just downed three boilermakers and decided to head to the bathroom... then flops forward, flat on his face. CIA, still hurting from the abdominal stretch, chooses not to grab the prone ICTV Champion and continue to grapple. Instead, he looks out to the crowd, raises his arm, and shouts....

 

"I'M HERE!"

 

("Oh, no," mutters Bobby Riley.)

 

"AND IT'S CLEAR!"

 

(The fans pop and start chanting along.)

 

"THAT I'VE JUST HAD ABOUT THIRTY BEERS!"

 

"I'M HERE! AND IT'S CLEAR! THAT I'VE JUST HAD ABOUT THIRTY BEERS! I'M HERE! AND IT'S CLEAR! THAT I'VE JUST HAD ABOUT THIRTY BEERS!"

 

CIA gets the crowd chanting along with him, with even Grand Slam getting into the act for his Carnival stablemate. Riley refuses to chant along, muttering something about influencing children to use drugs and alcohol, and no wonder those damn Canadians with their socialist health care can't make bacon properly.

 

Meanwhile, Flesher pushes himself up to his feet and starts moving toward CIA. The Canadian Intelligence Agent turns around, sees Flesher charging at him, and cocks his arm. As the Superior One gets within range, BAM~! CIA nails him on top of the head with a Bionic Elbow! Flesher crumbles to the mat, and CIA dives on top of him for

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THREE- NO! Flesher gets his shoulder up, then rolls to his stomach. CIA spins out to the front and locks up a front facelock. With a quick jerking motion, CIA pulls Flesher to his feet. From there, he starts to fall back, attempting a DDT, but Flesher catches him before he completes the fall. Moving quickly, the Greco-Roman specialist clamps down on CIA's arm and spins out into a standing armbar. He goes for an Irish whip, but CIA plants his feet to counter it. In response, Flesher simply drives his boot into CIA's ribcage. CIA doubles over, holding his tender ribcage, and Flesher kicks him in the knee. CIA stands back up, looking for a stepping palm strike, but Flesher catches him off guard with another kick to the ribs, followed immediately by a completely unnecessary kick to the shin. Flesher leans back, winds up, and slaps CIA across the face with his open hand! Flesher drops down and takes CIA to the mat with a single leg takedown, then follows through into an elevated single-leg crab! Flesher lifts CIA up, folding his leg back over his body and pulling half of the cruiser Canadian's upper body off the mat! Even through his maple leaf mask, the pain can be seen on CIA's face.

 

"What a counter out of Flesher!" says Bobby Riley. "I tell you, that Greco-Roman background is really helping him!"

 

"Helping him kick people in the ribs and then slap them?"

 

"Maybe to the uneducated eye it looks like that, but you clearly aren't aware of the subtle nuances of amateur wrestling. He's building dominance, and showing CIA who's boss."

 

"And the kick to the shin?"

 

"Oh, that's because it hurts like a bastard."

 

Flesher wrenches CIA's leg backwards, doing his best to torque it out of control. In the center of the ring, CIA knows better than to hold any expectations of getting to the ropes. With that in mind, he decides to do the only thing he can do: try to counter out of the hold.

 

CIA turns his body around Flesher's ankle, but stops after a moment to wince in pain. "What's CIA doing?" asks Bobby Riley. "He's just going to hurt his own ribs even more!" Ignoring the obvious, CIA turns his body even further and grabs Tom Flesher's close ankle. With a quick adjustment of his body position, CIA gets into a situation where he's still in a painful submission but better off than the extremely elevated half crab hold. As soon as he's in good position, CIA tries to grab Flesher in an ankle lock; Flesher, however, sees it coming, and decides to cut his losses. He releases the crab hold, then kicks his free leg into the air before dropping down onto CIA with both legs crashing down onto his ribs! CIA releases Flesher's ankle and grabs his ribs as Flesher gets to his feet and starts to strut around the ring, golf-clapping for himself. The fans respond by showering him with a chorus of boos and starting up a "YOU SUCK DICK! YOU SUCK DICK!" chant.

 

"What the hell is wrong with CIA?" says Riley. "He should know by now that he can't beat a guy like Tom Flesher. I mean, Christ, it's FLESHER!"

 

"CIA doesn't give up, Bobby. He's won matches on his tenacity before, and believe it or not, he still has a good shot at winning this one."

 

"I don't care WHAT you say, Flesher does NOT have a congenital heart defect and he will NOT die in the ring tonight."

 

"I said no such thing!"

 

"Oh, sure, deny it now, but we all heard you."

 

"WHEN?"

 

"Last week... during the... uh.... HEY! Look over there! That dog has a puffy tail!"

 

Stevens rolls his eyes as Riley snickers to himself and whispers, "Sucker." Flesher, legs across CIA's ribcage, spins around behind him and straddles his back. He threads his arm under CIA's neck and tries to lock up a dragon sleeper, looking for the Superior Stretch Beta. CIA, still obviously in pain, does the only thing he can do... he grabs Flesher's arm and uses brute strength to keep Tom from locking on the sleeper. Flesher tries to force it back, but CIA uses his leverage advantage to finally spin it out into an armbar! The fans pop as CIA spins out and ends up on top of Tom in a hammerlock! Realizing he has the right arm, CIA throws a quick elbow to the back of Flesher's neck and takes hold of the injured left arm. Tom tries desperately to extend it, but CIA twists the arm over Flesher's head in an inverted hammerlock!

 

"CIA's got an interesting hold applied there," says Stevens. "I'm curious about where he's going with it."

 

"Probably gonna try some goofy lumberjack move on him," says Riley. "Or maybe dunk him in maple syrup."

 

CIA pulls the over-the-head hammerlock upwards, pressuring Flesher's elbow and rotator cuff and sitting back into a camel-clutch position. "CIA looks to be a little loose on the pressure," notes Stevens. "He's leaving Tom too much of an opening to escape." Sure enough, CIA relaxes the pressure even more. As Riley mutters, "Dumbass Canadian," Flesher gets his legs under his body and starts to stand up. Using his leg strength, he gets all the way to his feet, with CIA using his six-inch height advantage to maintain the inverted hammerlock. Flesher tries to spin out, but CIA grabs him and stops his motion by applying a half nelson! The crowd pops loudly, knowing exactly what's coming. CIA grabs Flesher's waist and hoists him upward, then drops him backwards onto his shoulders with his trademark half nelson suplex! The fans burst into a chant of "CIA! CIA!" as the Canadian Intelligence Agent bounces back to his feet and dashes over to the turnbuckle. Flesher immediately rolls away, looking almost like it's on instinct. CIA sees him rolling out and turns his body, focusing on the concrete next to the ring. As Flesher gets back to his feet, CIA leaps off the top rope to the outside and slams Flesher in the back with a double axehandle! Flesher falls flat to the concrete, and CIA takes a moment to recover from the impact. He grabs Flesher by his singlet straps and rolls him back into the ring, following directly after.

 

"What a maneuver from CIA!"

 

"Plainly illegal, Marky Mark Mark. Are they within the ring? No. If Sexton Hardcastle knew anything, he'd disqualify that Canadian bastard right now, pumpkin scone or not."

 

"You seem a little Edgey there, Bobby."

 

"Huh? No, that's Hardcastle."

 

CIA pulls Flesher to his feet and applies a standing armbar. Hardcastle steps in to check the legality just as CIA jumps onto Flesher's back to go for a crucifix pin! Flesher stays up, though, and attempts to counter with a Samoan drop! He spins for momentum, in the process catching Sexton Hardcastle with CIA's heels, and drops backwards! Hardcastle crumbles to the mat, and Flesher slams CIA down. CIA grabs his ribs, and Flesher rolls off to survey the damage.

 

"Bobby," says Mark, "we really need to hire sturdier refs."

 

"How bout that Mr. Bukkake guy?"

 

Flesher sees Hardcastle face-down on the mat, and, thinking quickly, drops a headbutt into CIA's ribs. CIA curls up in pain, and Flesher yanks him to his feet. He whips the Canadian into the corner, then follows him in with a running Yakuza kick that catches CIA in the chest rather than the face. CIA slumps down in the corner, and Flesher kicks him once more in the chest. With that, he grabs the Midnight Carnival member by his long blond hair and lifts him back to his feet. He picks CIA up for a scoop slam, but sits him on the top rope facing the crowd instead. Riley practically creams himself, shouting "I KNOW WHAT'S COMING!!!! WOOHOO!"

 

"Is it you?"

 

Flesher climbs up to the top rope and locks a dragon sleeper on the groggy Canadian. Quickly, he falls back, pulling his opponent into the tree of woe dragon sleeper known as Bow Down To Glory! The fans boo as Flesher starts pummelling CIA's ribs with his free hand.

 

"This is an outrage," shouts Grand Slam. "Bow Down To Glory is an illegal hold, and Flesher's being allowed to use it because he knocked Sexton Hardcastle out with CIA!"

 

"Gotta love those secret government weapons, eh, Mark?"

 

Flesher continues pounding CIA's ribs while holding the Bow Down To Glory dragon sleeper on him. Flesher is able to adjust his position to keep the blood from rushing to his head, but CIA, locked in the hold, can't. Flesher keeps wrenching CIA's neck, pounding on his ribs. Without any fear of disqualification, Tom looks absolutely thrilled ot be breaking the rules shamelessly.

 

The fans start chanting "YOU SUCK DICK! YOU SUCK DICK!" Flesher doesn't care at all, opting to stop punching the ribs and instead grab the middle rope to add extra leverage to the dragon sleeper. CIA starts to turn bright red, and then move into purple, behind his maple leaf mask. Finally, after almost ninety seconds of CIA bowing down, Sexton Hardcastle starts to stir over on the opposite side. The fans shout and point at Flesher in the corner, and Hardcastle stumbles over. He sees Flesher using the blatantly illegal hold and starts his count.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

FOUR!

 

Flesher compliantly releases the hold, leaving the Canadian Dream hanging upside down. Dutifully, Flesher helps unhook CIA, who falls to the mat in a daze. Flesher rolls the secret agent onto his stomach and jumps on his back, in position for a camel clutch. Instead of pulling CIA's head back, though, Flesher pushes it forward and down, and rolls CIA to his back! Flesher cranks the scissors around CIA's ribs, locking up a good, old-fashioned Gedo Clutch!

 

"What a maneuver out of Flesher," creams Riley.

 

"Oh, come on, that's just a token to make it look like he did something other than abuse the rules while Sexton Hardcastle was out!"

 

Flesher holds the Gedo Clutch as Sexton counts

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

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

 

 

DING DING DING!!!!!!!

 

 

"What a travesty," shouts Mark Stevens. "This up-and-coming Carnie loses the match for no reason but Flesher's ridiculous rulebreaking!"

 

"Pardon me?"

 

"The minute and a half in Bow Down To Glory!"

 

"My monitor went out."

 

"You were watching it!"

 

"I didn't see it."

 

"YOU COMMENTED ON IT!"

 

"Sorry, Spam, you must be going crazy in your old age."

 

Funyon declares, "The winner of this match, The Superior One, Tom Flesher!"

 

The crowd bursts into a chorus of boos as Flesher bows, then struts over to his corner. He picks up his warmup suit and then his ICTV Title. He kisses the ICTV belt, then straps it around his waist before walking down the stairs and up the ramp. He struts confidently as CIA holds his injured ribs in the ring. As Flesher gets to the top of the ramp, he grabs a microphone. Still somewhat gassed, he clears his throat and begins to speak.

 

"CIA... I'm sorry about what I had to do to you... but I needed to make an example of someone. Thoth's running around this place thinking he can just walk all over the Magnificent Seven... well, it's not going to happen. I've been working with Mak, and you better believe he's going to tear your arm off and take it back to Philly with him, Yuji, or Yuri, or whatever your name is. But if by some miracle, some random act of kindness, you do manage to get by The Franchise... I'll be waiting for you on pay-per-view. And don't worry, old man... you brought me up to the league? Maybe. But I'm going to do to you what I did to CIA... and send you back to Japan. You're a shell of your former self, Masahiro, and I want you to go out before you get old and decrepit. I'll do it, even if I have to force you. Why? Because I want the fans to remember you as you were, not as you're becoming... because I love you as much as you love me... maybe more."

 

Flesher quickly bows, and then walks back to the locker room as the picture fades out.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

“Hello and welcome back to the SWF Storm MAAIIIN EVEEEENT!!!” Exclaims Mark Stevens causing his announce partner in crime, Bobby Riley to wince.

 

“Take a chill pill Grand Shill.”

 

“Bobbi don’t start this early cause I really don’t want to hurt you. We are now bringing you fans the main event which pits Thoth against Perfect Bo against Mak Francis in a triple threat for a chance at the ICTV title!”

 

And just like that Funyon begins. “This contest is scheduled for ONE FALL and will decide the number one contender to the Smarks Wrestling Federations IC-TVVVV TIIIIIITLE!!” Bellows Funyon shilling better than Mike Buffer.

 

** Are you ready? **

 

 

** Are You Ready?! **

 

 

 

”First from Philadelphia PA, weighing in at two hundred and twenty five pounds… representing the Magnificent 7… “The Franchise” MAAAK FRAAAAANCIIIISssssss!”

 

 

** CAUSE THE FRANCHISE IS HERE!!!! **

 

The Smarktron flashes the words 'The Franchise' and that's followed by a blue and white photonegative image of Mak Francis. Then the lights come back up and 'The Franchise' comes out onto the stage. He slowly strolls down to ringside and enters through the middle ropes. Francis then poses in the center of the ring with both his hands raised in the air.

 

“And here comes Mak Francis fresh off of a tag team win with Magnificent 7 leader Tom Flesher.”

 

“You’re leaving out the fact that the EAST COAST LEGACY kicked some Carnie ass and gave ‘em a good old fashion EAST COAST **CK YOU!”

 

“You are such a tool Riley!”

 

Suddenly the lights dim and the Tron comes on as Bo appears on the Tron saying:

 

I will not fall…

 

I will stand tall…

 

Ya all are underneath me…

 

** BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM **

 

I’m from the home of 9/11, the place of the lost towers, regardless of that we NEVER lose power!!!

 

** BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM **

 

Another loud explosion comes forth as “New York City” by Cam’ron and Jay-Z hits. After the smoke clears, standing right where the explosion was at is Bo…

 

Making his way to the ring from New York City and weighing in at two hundred and eighty five pounds… He is PERFECT BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Bo has his head lowered to the ground, after a few seconds like that he looks up, hearing all the boos and not giving a damn as he dashes to the ring and slides in. He goes towards the near corner to the left, climbs to the second turnbuckle and looks at the crowd, he then slowly lower his head, he balled his hand into a fist and raises it up slowly in the air. He comes back down and waits for his final opponent not even really acknowledging Francis.

 

“Look at that disrespect! Mak’s going to kick his ass for that!”

 

“How about you stop kissing his Riley?”

 

“But it’s…”

 

And thankfully “Little Mac's Confession” by Game Over begins to play stopping Riley from saying Mak’s Franchisable. The Smarktron shows quick cuts of Thoth, avoiding his face as the treble guitar starts to play. The lights dim, but their luminance is replaced by a big light coming from the entryway. As soon as the big riffs start, the light starts blinking, and when the drums play, it goes off into a near-strobe, as the Balancer makes his way to the squared circle.

 

"And FINALLY, making his way to ringside and weighing in at 236 pounds... from Aechiba, Japan... THOOOOOOOOTH!"

 

“We already know about Tom Flesher’s problems with both Thoth and Bo so the question is, is Mak Francis here to soften Thoth or Bo up for Flesher.”

 

“Of course but not only is he going to soften them up, he’s going to dominate in his first SWF main event!” Adds the now grinning, Bobby Riley. “I mean he did already make Thoth tap to Chris Wilson’s Finishing Touches no less and I’ll be damned if a Franchise can’t take it to Bo!”

 

“But you seem to forget that Thoth dominated that match and both Bo and Thoth have much more experience than Francis.”

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

The three men test their area of the ring warming up as the three men collide in the predictable three way collar and elbow tie up. Bo and Thoth dominate Francis who decides that this coarse of action is a bad idea and breaks the tie up.

 

“After a little revaluation the Franchise ends that three way.”

 

“Three way…” Starts a now high motivated, Bobby Riley. “… Oh the match…”

 

“Yes the match Bobby which we get paid to comment on!”

 

Thoth quickly moves over towards Francis and Bo looks on as the Franchise backs up into the corner. Mak ducks his head under the ropes just as Thoth reels back and you can just hear Mark Stevens sigh into the mic.

 

“Geez he’s already ducking Thoth!”

 

“I told you Hoss master Mark its called strategy!”

 

“Well whatever it is, he’s a master at doing it.”

 

Referee Sexton Hardcastle walks over to back Thoth away when Bo dashes past him using all of his six foot six, two hundred and eighty five pound frame to smack Thoth to the canvas face first with a clothesline. The hulking Bo stands over Thoth as Francis rolls his eyes before untying himself from the ropes. Francis puts on the fakest smile ever and turns to Bo but the perfect one grabs him by the wrist and pulls him into a short arm clothesline giving him the same treatment!

 

“Well Bo’s taking no sides early and it looks like his only goal is to get another match against Flesher. And he’s got to use his size and strength early if he wants to get the win here.”

 

As Bo stands over the now downed Franchise, Thoth has crawled away from the frey and gets up to his feet in the center of the ring. Meanwhile, Bo picks Francis up to his feet and goes for an Irish whip into the corner sending Mak barreling into Thoth who ducks and low bridges him over his shoulder pushing upwards. Francis goes soaring into the air before landing on his back with a deafening crash that shakes the canvas!

 

“What elevation on that back body drop from Thoth with an assist from Bo!”

 

“Whatever Stevens, Mak’s just luring them both into a false sense of security…”

 

Mak tries to sit up and get to his feet - but Thoth blasts him in the back of the head with a stiff kick before lifting him up to his feet for a Snap Suplex. The Balancer drops Francis down to the mat and floats over going for the first cover of the match!

 

ONE–

 

“Bo comes over and breaks up the counts. So Bobby by false sense of security you mean get beat like a government mule?” Counters Grand Slam chanelling the spirit of JR for a moment. “Or a red headed step child if you prefer, either way Mak’s getting his ass kicked!”

 

“Shut it Stevens they’ve been double teaming him for the whole match! They’re scared of his god given Franchisability!”

 

Mark rolls his eyes as Bo picks Thoth up in a front face lock and lands a clubbing blow to the neck staggering his opponent. Mak crawls over to the ropes as Bo falls to his back hitting a nasty DDT in the center of the ring!

 

“Bo looking for those rolling DDT’s which go right after the neck of Thoth.”

 

“But why the hell would you go after Thoth’s neck. His shoulder is swiss cheese and it’s a wonder he even got Mak over for that snap suplex!”

 

The perfect one pushes himself up and drags Thoth along for the ride going for the second rolling DDT – but Thoth muscles up and pops his hips, forcing Bo up and over in a Northern Lights suplex! Thoth holds the bridge as Hardcastle slides into position!

 

“Thoth’s shoulder seems fine so far as he scores with a Northern Lights out of Bo’s rolling DDT’s!”

 

ONE

 

 

 

TW-

 

And Mak dives in kicking Thoth in the shoulder and forcing him to break the bridge.

 

“And Francis breaks the count-”

 

“Attacking the shoulder like I knew he would!” response Riley interrupting Mark as usual. “Flesher probably coached him in the superior art of picking apart an opponents body!”

 

“Yes well that remains to be seen Bobby.”

 

Francis rolls away and springs to his feet as Thoth gets up and dashes towards Francis for breaking the count. Mak deftly sidesteps and pulls Thoth to the mat with a Fujiwara Arm bar going right after his shoulder.

 

“Well I guess it‘s been seen now Mark! Fujiwara, that’s Japanese you know, arm bar from the Franchise!”

 

“What a wealth of commentary knowledge you are Riley.”

 

“I agree Mark. You need to take your job as seriously as I do… Mak’s really tearing Thoth a new one with that arm bar!”

 

“I’m going to leave that alone.”

 

Mak leans down on the arm and pulls upwards hoping to make the Balancer tap or at least weaken the arm when out of nowhere, Bo flies into the picture dropping an elbow to the back of Francis’s neck. Thoth cradles his shoulder and rolls off to the side as the self proclaimed Franchise get lifted up and twisted down in a slow neckbreaker! Perfect Bo trying to keep on the Franchise brings him up again and snitches on a front face lock before dropping Mak to the mat. Bo drags Francis up again talking shit all the while as he drops Francis with a SECOND DDT! But the NYC bad ass is not finished as he lifts Mak up one last time before spiking him on the top of his head with a final DDT!! The Franchise is planted into the mat and stays perpendicular to it until he flops over on his back and Bo makes the cover hooking the near leg.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

T-

 

“NO! Francis gets a shoulder up! Looks like Bo’s strategy is extended to Francis as well. I might not like it but pound on the neck till they can’t take it and then dump them on it one more time works.”

 

“Well I do like the sick nature of that but why not just stick to killing Thoth! He should leave Mak alone!”

 

Bo gets up to his knees and claps three times signaling that he should have gotten a three count before dragging Mak up by his neck and pushing him into a standing head scissors! Bo lifts Francis from the waist but Mak fights and his feet fall back to the canvas. Bo a little irritated pulls on Francis once again – but this time Thoth sprints forward still protecting his shoulder until he leaps into the air for a High Leg Clothesline!

 

“Perfect Bo looks to score a piledriver on Francis but Thoth makes the save!”

 

“Who would have ever thought he’d be good for something…”

 

Mak looks up wide eyed and thanking his lucky stars as Bo is now down on his back. Francis doesn’t ponder on how it happened at all as he gets set to land a bridging float over pin until he sees Thoth foot flash toward his gut in a back kick, doubling him over. Francis feels Thoth’s leg wrap around the top of his neck and then eats canvas from a nasty Guillotine Face Driver!

 

Mak lies face down on the mat until Thoth pushes him over onto his back and covers awaiting Hardcastle’s count!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

TH-

 

And Bo dives in breaking up the count with a double axe handle.

 

Bo whips Thoth – but Thoth reverses and tosses Bo to the ropes and over a downed Mak Francis. On the return Bo is forced to hop over Francis again and Thoth gives him a roundhouse kick for his troubles – but Bo catches the kick and now has a hoping Thoth under his control…

 

Until Thoth counters with a reverse enzuigiri!!!

 

Thoth holds his shoulder in pain after landing on it badly and is unable to make a cover just as Francis gets to his feet and shakes the cobwebs out. Thoth gets up to his knees and Francis sneaks up right behind him locking on a half nelson and pulling him to his feet…

 

“THE MILLION DOLLAR DREAM!!!!”

 

…Or trying to as Thoth quickly slips out of the Franchise’s Million Dollar Exemption and twists his body to face Francis. Thoth latches onto Francis and lifts him up with one arm – but Mak connects with a knee to the nuts hidden by his body and reaches around Thoth’s body hammerlocking his arm and kneeling down in a jawbreaker.

 

“That’s about as above average a counter as I’ve ever seen!”

 

Francis being as Franchisable as he is continues the attack by lifting Thoth up overhead and dropping him onto that hammerlocked shoulder with a Hammerlock Northern Lights Suplex!!!! But he’s forced to bridge on his shoulders after all the punishment his neck has taken…

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THR-

 

And Thoth bridges up breaking the three count until Francis lets go and turns flipping Thoth onto his shoulder into a Canadian back rack with his body dangling over Francis’s shoulder. Thoth fight but Mak drops to one knee and drives Thoth’s shoulder onto it with a purpose and then just throws the bigger man to the mat!!

 

“What a Shoulder breaker, from a Canadian back breaker rack to Thoth by Francis! He goes for the cover!!!

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

T

H

R

E

E-

 

 

And Bo dives in trying to breaking the count but Thoth HAS ALREADY KICKED OUT!!!! Francis can’t believe it and neither can Bobby Riley as he just stares in disbelief.

 

“That should have put anybody with a hurt shoulder down. How the hell could Thoth do that…”

 

“It’s called heart Riley and Thoth has it in spades!”

 

Francis gets up to lunge at the official for what he thinks must have been a slow count and Bo grabs Francis and gets an accidental thumb to the eyes for being in near the shell shocked Francis. Bo staggers back and gets Yakuza kicked over the top rope and to the outside as Thoth has crawled over to the ropes and pulled himself to a knee.

 

“Mak, Thoth’s up! You gotta’ do something!!”

 

The self proclaimed Franchise realizes that fact just as Riley screams and dashes over towards Thoth. He yanks at the bad arm and somersaults hitting the ground – but Thoth holds on with all he’s got to the ropes. Francis continues to try and pull him down and Thoth lets go of the ropes…

 

STACKING FRANCIS UP ON HIS OWN SHOULDERS!!!

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

T

H

R

E

E!

 

“TWO” Yells Hardcastle stopping the arena from exploding as Francis lets go of the cross arm breaker and kicks out!

 

“What a counter by Thoth! That just took incredible will power!”

 

“I still say he looks constipated…”

 

Francis rolls off his back and rushes towards Thoth only to get picked up and drilled into the mat face first with a Downward Spiril that knocks the self proclaimed Francis for a loop. Thoth hurt and tired drops on top of Francis and makes the cover!!

 

ONE

 

TWO

 

 

 

T

H

R

E

E-

 

No as Bo pulls Thoth off of Francis at the last second! Bo picks Thoth up and easily lifts him into a fireman’s carry before he drives Thoth right onto his knee with a Fireman’s carry into a neck breaker – but he doesn’t go for the cover!! Instead the perfect one picks Thoth up and places him on the top turnbuckle. Thoth is half dead as Bo makes his way up to the top rope…

 

…

 

Snitches in a front face lock…

 

…

 

And gets punched in the gut by Thoth!! Thoth hits another punch and another trying not to meet his Perfect Death and successfully stuns Bo enough for him to stand up and dive over Bo pulling him to the mat with one arm in a REVERSE SCUM GALE!!!!!!! The crowd goes nuts. Stevens goes nuts and Riley begins to cry as Thoth inches his way over to Bo and puts an arm across his chest!!!

 

“BAH GOD A REVERSE SCUM GALE! IT HAS TO BE OVER! AND HE DID IT WITH ONE GOOD ARM!”

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

T

 

H

 

R

 

E

 

E-

 

“And Francis dives into the picture just in time breaking the three count. Both men struggle to get up as Hardcastle starts his ten count. ** ONE ** Bo is down and totally out from that huge counter to his Perfect Death finisher!”

 

** TWO **

 

And Francis tries and fails to push himself up to one knee…

 

** THREE **

 

Just as Thoth rolls over onto his stomach…

 

** FOUR **

 

And pushes himself to one knee…

 

** FIVE **

 

In time to see his opponent in the same position…

 

** SIX **

 

And they both start to stand…

 

** SEVEN **

 

Rising up at the same time!

 

** EIGHT **

 

And Hardcastle stops the count as Francis being the fresher of the two pick Thoth up for a scoop slam! And places Thoth’s head off to the side…

 

…

 

But Thoth wiggles free and flips Mak over into a SCOOP OF HIS OWN! And places one arm under Mak’s body… and tries to interlock the two but can’t take the pain of holding the cradle position and loosens his grip on Francis who pulls him to the ground in a cross armbreaker!!!!

 

“Mak finally gets the CROSS ARM BREAKER~!”

“Thoth used the ropes once to his advantage against this deadly hold can he get to them one last time to save himself!”

 

Thoth tries to lunge towards the ropes but Francis pulls his arm back across his body and Thoth who can now only feel a jarring pain in his shoulder and neck from the combined attack of Bo and Francis is forced to tap!

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

“The winner of this match by submission “The Franchise” MAAAK FRAAAANCIIIIISSssssss!”

 

“And the upstart Magnificent 7 member scores another high profile win. This time working the injured shoulder of Thoth to get the job done.”

 

“SEE I KNEW IT! MAK WINS AGAIN!!!”

 

“For Bobby Riley, whose to busy creaming his shorts, I’m Mark Stevens and good night from SWF Storm!”

 

And the three grapplers are the last thing seen on the television screen as the SWF logo appears and the cameras fade to black.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

HARDCORE MATCH

Ash Ketchum vs. Mercury

- Ass Ketchup gets the win.

 

FIRST BLOOD MATCH

Annie Eclectic vs. Tod deKindes

- A girl beat a boy? That's unpossible!

 

NON-TITLE SINGLES MATCH

Tom Flesher vs. CIA

- The guy with the porn-star sounding name wins.

 

TRIPLE THREAT ICTV #1 CONTEDNERS MATCH

Thoth vs. Perfect Bo vs. Mak Francis

- Your winner...Mak Francis? Holly upset Batman.