SWF Dissention!

[Guest BA_Baracus]

[sWF Dissention hits the airwaves and the cameras quickly scan the rabid audience, then focus on the Dissention set, which is actually smaller than the usual Storm or Smarkdown set, but features cool oval screens and a slick design.

 

Suddenly a pyro streaks up from the stage and hovers over the crowd for a second, before exploding and showing the audience with glowing gold sparks. As the crowd sits in awe, “All my life” by the Foo Fighters begins to play.]

 

Stevens – Hello everybody and welcome to the SWF's latest Pay-per-view extravaganza…Dissention!

 

Riley – The pay-per-view that puts the necro in necrophelia!

 

Stevens – What? There's no necrophelia in the SWF!

 

Riley – We won't be seeing any necrophelia? Damn...and I brought my box of tissues and tube of lube out here and everything.

 

Stevens – I'm shocked and apalled.

 

Riley – So am I in a way.

 

Steven – Well, moving on...let's start the show!

[Guest BA_Baracus]

***Backstage we go in the Nationwide Arena's parking lot, as the EARLIER TONIGHT graphic pops up in the lower left hand corner of the screen. As the backstage cameraman scans the surroundings, he spots a rental car arriving nearby and parking itself to its designed location. Door pops open…revealing U.S. champ Tod deKindes, hair tied back, and in the usual street clothes…***

 

Stevens: Folks, if you caught our pregame show on the Prevue Channel, you saw Tod deKindes arriving at the arena as he had a little meeting with his business manager.

 

***Tod steps out of his car, grabbing his luggage from the trunk in the process. As he gets to walking, he stops himself upon noticing his business manager: Sarah Leavenworth. ***

 

Sarah: Hey Tod.

 

Tod: (not used to such socializing, he pauses for a second) … Sarah. (then resumes his way)

 

Sarah: Listen, we need to talk.

 

Tod: I'm busy Sarah. I got a big match tonight.

 

Sarah: It's about XF9.

 

Tod: (sighs…and turns around) What about it?

 

Sarah: As you may have noticed, we've lost a few members in the past few months. Aside from me, all that we have left in terms of active members are yourself, Ash and Renegade.

 

Tod: …Yeah?

 

Sarah: Aren't you even at ALL concerned with the group's survival?!

 

Tod: To be honest, the group is the least of my worries right now. This Best Of Five series with Annie has been KILLING me lately (note the large bandaid on the forehead) and tonight looks to be no exception. I just wanna win this cage match so I can finally get this over with.

 

Sarah: All right, but just remember one thing. Try to remember where your loyalties lie. We're in a down period for now. And I need assurance from all three of you that this group WILL stay alive. Good luck for tonight.

 

***With that, Tod walks off to the XF9 dressing room, while Sarah removes her reading glasses to massage away what looks like an oncoming migraine…***

[Guest BA_Baracus]

TRIPLE THREAT MATCH

CIA vs. Mercury vs. Xero

- Who’s the biggest no-showing jobber of these 3? Tough question, but the winner of this match will be able to hold his head up high and say he isn’t quite the biggest loser in the league.

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

 

CAGE MATCH

Tod deKindes vs. Annie Eclectic

- The series continues with the rage and animosity between these two growing with each match. Who’ll survive the sheer horror of the uhh…chain link cage from HELL?!

Match Description – The ring will be surrounded on all sides by an approximately 20 foot tall cage. The only way to win is to climb over the top of the cage and touch both feet to the arena floor.

 

TAG TEAM TITLE MATCH

Thoth & Ced Ordonez © vs. Perfect Bo & Jay Dawg

- The unlikely tag champs with the stupid name take on Creative Control endorsed team of Bo and Dawg. Should be tag team-alicious.

 

SPIN THE WHEEL MATCH

Frost © vs. Ash Ketchum

- These two wrestlers have faced each other a number of times in the past. First in the tag team division, then as singles competitors and now they will battle over the hardcore title. This is their most important match yet, who will come out the victor?

Match Description – Who knows? We won’t find out until the show!

 

ICTV TITLE MATCH

Tom Flesher © vs. Mak Francis

- Surprisingly Mak Francis managed to upset both Thoth and Perfect Bo on Storm to become the ICTV #1 contender. How will Tom Flesher, the leader of the Magnificent 7, react if he loses the title to one of his own followers?

 

NO-DQ MATCH FOR THE SWF HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE

Sacred © vs. El Luchadore Magnifico

- A couple weeks back Sacred shocked the world (or at least the portion of it that watches the SWF) by defeating Magnifico for the heavyweight title. Will Magnifico be able to regain the title in his rematch and become the 2nd only 3-time SWF champ?

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

[Guest BA_Baracus]

***As the night progresses, we go back to the dressing room area, showing the many SWF wrestlers warming up for their matches.

 

Near the M7 dressing room, the cameraman actually spots Annie Eclectic chatting with a backstage attendant. From basic body language, it seems as if she's asking him for a favor. She then hands him some sort of piece of paper, as he nods off and walks away. Meanwhile, Annie re-enters her dressing room…

 

Interesting.***

[Guest BA_Baracus]

“Welcome ladies and Gentlemen, to SWF dissention, live from the Nationwide Arena, here in Columbus, Ohio. You’re hearing ‘All my life’ by the Foo fighters, this month’s official SWF pay per view theme song, and we’re getting ready to kick off a crazy night of action. I’m Mark Stevens, alongside my commentary partner, Bobby Riley.”

 

“You people all suck.”

 

“And would you look at that, he’s in a good mood. It must be our back to back action this evening, Starting an ending with the Midnight Carnival. Our first match tonight is set to be a raucous three way match between CIA, Xero, and Mercury, and our scheduled Main Event is El Luchadore Magnifico versus Sacred in a world title rematch.”

 

Riley doesn’t seem too impressed with this, rolling his eyes and turning towards Grand Slam. “Oh, goodie. Two dirty foreigners, both clearly way too high on the card.”

 

“But Bobby, CIA is in the opening match. Any lower on the card, and he’d be off the show entirely.”

 

“Bing. Looks like Grand Spam gets one for once. Why don’t we get this match underway, so we can move on to more important matchups. Like the final step for the DDR freaks, or Ash Ketchum’s final breath. Maybe if we’re lucky, these matches will all be quick, so we can have more time for Tom Flesher and Mak Francis.” At this point, Riley lets out a slight sigh of delight, eyes focusing off on something in the distance that only he can see.

 

Stevens shrugs, at this point having learned to ignore Riley as best he can. “Well, despite your clear bias, Riley, your words at least illustrate that we’ve got a great card from top to bottom, starting with what is no doubt going to be a squeeze play of excitement from three tremendous talents. Let’s get it underway, and maybe we’ll even get Riley’s attention back on HIS JOB.”

 

“Sigh. Tom Flesher.”

 

“Or not.”

 

With that, the cameras zoom around the arena, showing excited fans packing the arena to capacity, and finally settling on the SmarkTron, just in time for the opening notes of "The Grudge" 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...as he walks across, up the stairs, and finally steps foot inside the ring. Revealing himself, he tosses the cloak down to the timekeeper as the lights fade back up.

 

Funyon quickly makes his way into the ring, clearing his throat as he looks nervously over towards Mercury, waiting in the corner. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to SWF Dissention. The following match is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, now in the ring, weighing in at two hundred and thirty three pounds, hailing from Los Angeles, California, he is a member of the Magnificent Seven, and is known as the Regenerate King. He is MERCURY!”

 

The fans let out a loud chorus of boos, but they are cut off as the arena lights cut off, leaving everyone in darkness, and causing a hush to fall over the crowd. The arena lights remain off, as "Trust" by Megadeth begins to play. The drum beat gets louder every second, and red and white strobe lights flash through the arena. After about 30 seconds of drums, the guitars come in, as fire emerges from the stage, Xero appearing below the SamrkTron. Xero flexes and poses, showing off his muscles with the fire still blazing high.

 

The fans boo again, greeting Xero rudely as Funyon begins to speak, booming voice echoing about the arena. "Introducing next, weighing in at two hundred and ten pounds, and hailing from Port Colborne," Funyon pauses, for dramatic effect. “Ontario, Canada. Xeeeerrrroooo!!!!!”

 

Xero comes walking down to the ring, wearing his ring attire along with a matching vest, and a see through shirt underneath, and he pulls himself onto the apron and steps into the ring. Going to each turnbuckle in turn, he raises both his arms up in the air, only to be met by the boos of the assembled fans, although he ignores them and slides back down into the ring.

 

There is another hush of anticipation, as Funyon turns towards the Smarktron, and the lights in the arena dim, and everything seems to take on a red glow. A booming instrumental beat comes through the speakers, washing over the crowd, many of those in attendance rising up to their feet. Though not in Canada, a few fans even sing the words to the now familiar anthem, which cuts off abruptly, every light in the arena cutting off just long enough for a digitized female voice to whisper ‘Midnight Carnival’. The fans cheer, but much of this is lost as the lights flash to full luminescence, four towering bursts of pyro firing into the air along the Stage, lighting up the figure standing tall in the entryway, arms extended out to his sides, Canadian flags dangling like wings.

 

CIA stands, frozen in place, as the opening strains to ‘Secret Agent Man’ ring through the arena, and Funyon raises his microphone once more. “And introducing, weighing in at two hundred and thirty seven pounds, hailing from Ottawo, Ontario, Canada, he is a member of the Midnight Carnival. You know him as the Canadian Dream…. C! I! AAAA!!!”

 

At these words, CIA spins around, beginning to strut down the ramp to his music, slapping hands with many of the fans as he goes. Unzipping his leather jacket as he approaches the ring, CIA shrugs out of the garment, tossing it aside to a ring attendant, and hopping up onto the apron, catching a microphone thrown to him, and turning out to look at the crowd, many still cheering for him. With a smile, he raises the microphone to his lips, preparing to give a little speech. “Hello, Ohio!”

 

The fans erupt, and CIA waits, while they quiet down, looking at his two opponents in the ring. “You know, folks, so far I haven’t had much luck here in the SWF. I’m proud to say my losses are all to great opponents, but let’s face it, noone wants to lose all the time. And I know you fans have given me lots of support, and tonight, I’m ready to step up to the plate,” Here, CIA smiles, pointing across the ring to Grand Slam at the commentary table. “if I may steal a phrase from someone I’ve always admired, and show you fans what I can do.”

 

Stepping through the ropes, CIA looks left, towards Xero, and right, towards Mercury, as referee Daniel ‘In-good-shape’ Fernley enters on the opposite side of the ring. Raising the microphone once more, CIA addresses the crowd. “So everybody in the house tonight, let’s start the party, it’s time for a fight!”

 

The fans cheer this proclamation, but quickly shift to boos as Xero and Mercury rush in on either side, slamming their fists into the face of the Canadian and sending him to the canvas, both men beginning to put the boots to him, bell ringing to signify the start of the match.

 

Grand Slam seems rather perturbed by this DASTARDLY turn of events, and is about to say something, but Bobby Riley quickly cuts him off. “I say, Mark. It’s a good thing for Mercury and Xero that they can’t get in trouble before the bell, or else I think the ref might be angry at them for that.”

 

“It was a blatant double team, Bobby!”

 

“Which is perfectly within the rules in a three way matchup like this.”

 

“Shut up, Riley.”

 

In the ring, Xero and Mercury drag CIA up to his feet, whipping him off towards the ropes.

 

Rebounding, CIA catches both men with a stiff clothesline, the impact of their falling bodies making the ring shake. Standing tall, CIA waits for both men to rise. Xero and Mercury reach their feet, standing on either side of the Canadian. Moving quickly, CIA throws his arm over their shoulders, Grapevining first Xero’s leg, then Mercury’s. The fans cheer, a bit, although mostly they’re shocked at the early use of such a maneuver. Driving both men forward, CIA succeeds at driving his opponents both into the mat with the VIA rail! The crowd explodes, as CIA stands just long enough to roll both men over.

 

“Wow…. That was…. Quick. That’s CIA’s devastating finishing maneuver, the VIA rail. A double VIA rail, actually, but that was just too quick.”

 

Bobby Riley seems to be in shock, surrounded by the cheers of fans as CIA throws himself on top of both downed bodies, Fernley quickly sliding into position.

 

ONE!

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“What the hell is this? Are those two fine athletes going to just sit there….”

 

.

 

TWO!

 

.

 

.

 

“Oh, damn it.”

 

.

 

.

 

THREE!

 

*DING DING DING*

 

“Wow…. Umm… amazingly, it’s over that quickly. CIA is rolling out of the ring, and Mercury and Xero don’t seem too pleased.”

 

Riley sighs, and turns towards Mark Stevens. “Would you be?”

 

Stevens coughs, and turns towards the camera with the best smile he can manage. “Anyway, fans, it looks like CIA pulls out a…. unique win tonight, and we’ll be right back with more after this.”

 

As the show fades to a commercial, Riley’s voice can be heard muttering. “They’d better give that extra time to Flesher.”

[Guest BA_Baracus]

***The cameraman finds himself inside the XF9 dressing room, as we spot Tod deKindes lying down on the couch, clad in his fighting gear (which are his new black tights with intricate silver lightning bolts running across them) and relaxing before his cage match.

 

Nothing's happening … pure silence …

 

All is calm …

 

Until a knock is heard at the door, disturbing Tod from his concentration.***

 

Tod: *sighs* …Ash, if it's you with that X-Box again, I will kick your ass!!

 

***The knocking sound doesn't relent.***

 

Tod: Go away!

 

Voice: (muffled from the other side of the door) It's Randy from the arena, Mr. Tod. Got something for you!

 

***With that, Tod finally opens his eyes … brings himself to getting off the couch and going to answer the door.***

 

Tod: What?

 

Randy: This came for you.

 

***He hands him what looks to be a postcard. Tod takes it and half-heartedly inspects it before closing the door on Randy.

 

Upon further inspecting, Tod can make out what looks like the Tokyo Tower, adorned with a series of japanese characters printed on. The translation below helpfully reads: ***

 

"Greetings From The Land Of The Rising Sun!"

 

***Tod's brow furrows at the sight of the photo … He slowly turns the card over and reads: ***

 

"I never forget a face."

 

--Sara."

 

***His face drops with unfortunate surprise at the sight of the writings. He seems to know that handwriting too well. He nearly swallows his Adam's apple and nervously runs his hand through his hair.***

 

Tod: No … This can't be …It's impossible! …

 

***Looking for anything to do or say, he promptly tears the postcard into itty bitty pieces, grabs his U.S. title belt from off the couch's back rest and storms out of the dressing room.***

[Guest BA_Baracus]

Fade into a shot of an Icelandic Giant smiling in front of a table filled with goodies. He stands with arms wide open over the cornucopia of trademarked items....

 

Frost: You know, here at the SWF we are a tight knit family. And like any family, we always enjoy finding deals to lower the costs. BUT~! You never want to give something to someone you care about without being secure in the knowledge that you're giving them something of the highest quality.

 

Frost puts and arm across his waist, the other scratching at his chin.

 

Frost: Although, when can you ever get high quality products at a great deal?

 

The seven-footer looks around the room, seemingly trying to find something. When his eyes look down at the table, they light up with inspiration.

 

Frost: Why... right HERE! That's right folks, tonight, and tonight only can you get this one of a kind deal. Frost brand products give you the best of everything but at only a fraction of the price. But tonight you can get -Every- current Frost brand product on the market today in the Frost brand gift pack! Everyone here at the SWF uses at least one, and now you can have them all at a low low price of two hundred and fifty dollars! I know, I know, you're probably thinking "What do I get for my cold hard two-fifty?" Well, let's have the superstars of the SWF tell you what! Besides the Frost action figure, a box of Frost brand cigars, one Frost brand Taco dinner kit... you get:

 

Camera cuts to SJL star Johnny "the Barracuda" Dangerous...

 

Dangerous: Frost brand lip balm! Three flavors, tuna, penguin, or blubber! Plus, penguin-flavored lip balm comes with caffiene included for you geeky types!

 

...then to fellow JLer Jacob Helmsley....

 

Helmsley: Frost brand steel bats, just the thing to give your son or daughter that Frost POWER EDGE~! Because winning isn't everything.... being able to beat your competition senseless when you lose is!

 

.... SWF superstar Thoth, cutting a rug (pad) on a PS2 Dance Dance Revolution game....

 

Thoth: Don't forget DDRMAX: Frost Mix, coming to American shores on October 29th! It comes jam packed with the best Icelandic techno songs ever heard in Iceland... for America!

 

A small Korean girl walks up, plugs in a DDR dance mat and challenges Thoth to a dance-off. After witnessing a triple-somersault dismount for the last step, Thoth walks off stage, head down in defeat. Suddenly we see the current ICTV champion Tom Flesher holding a cup of coffee....

 

Flesher: ...and don't forget Frost brand Coffee! Brews cold in the fridge, perculator, or Mr. Coffee, It doesn't matter! Because cold coffee is good coffee!

 

Flesher spits coffee mist into the camera... by the time it's cleared up we see the "Hardcore Queen" Annie Eclectic holding a bottle in one hand, and an incredibly oversized spatula in the other....

 

Annie: Also, you can't forget Frost brand Frost sized Laundry/Body wash! You can clean silk kimonos with it, and still have enough to clean Frost, and then suds up HVille Thugg afterwards! *drops bottle* Or you can get years of use out of the Frost brand spatula! Versitile enough to flip one pancake, or a stack! Large enough to be able to flip small...Japanese...wo... ALRIGHT! Who wrote that last bit? Veeerry funny... I'm going to...

 

...just before Annie breaks the camera we cut back to Frost....

 

Frost: And after you flip that woman, use Frost brand condoms to finish it off! All these things could cost upwards of one thousand dollars, but tonight for Dissention viewers you can get it for just two hundred and fifty American dollars! Call now!

 

 

A number flashes at the bottom of the screen before fading out, fading back in to a familiar graphic of Tod deKindes and Annie Eclectic superimposed over the live audience. Above Tod's head sits the numeral "2" as Annie has a "1" over hers. "Best of Five for the United States Title" is written at the bottom, which fades out just as the camera switches to the announcer's table, where "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley have sat for the last two matches ...

 

Stevens: Up next, match number four in this gruelling Best of Five series between Tod deKindes and Annie Eclectic for the United States title....

 

A fan tries to put their sign saying "I flip for Annie E~!" in front of Mark and Bobby, but Bobby takes a sip of his coffee and MISTS~! the fan, putting him back into his seat.

 

Stevens: Thank you Bobby. Anyways, tonight might be the last night for Annie Eclectic. She squeaked out a victory on Storm to stay alive, but she's still facing elimination. Tod may be on the ball with his claim that Annie E cannot beat him.

 

Riley: Pshaw, fiddlestick, pish posh and jibba JABBA. Annie E maybe starting a streak of her own. Tod can't be at one hundred percent, I don't care what anyone says. A Hollowpoint Driver to the stairs ... He has to have at least a grade three concussion! He should forfeit the belt to her right now in fact! We can't endanger a fighter under any conditions ...

 

Stevens: Grabbing at straws again Riley ...

 

Riley: Don't make me grab yours ...

 

Stevens: As I blissfully ignore that comment, let's bring you up to speed on how this feud got started ...

 

------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

A montage appears on screen, showing the original Annie versus Tod fight, showing the Tom and Annie screwjob rewarding her the Light Heavyweight belt, and clips from each of the first three fights, with clips of Annie talking about Sara overlayed upon them.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Riley: No one knows what this "Sara" has to do with anything, but I'm sure we'll all find out in due time. In the meantime, Funyon's in the ring, I guess I'll relieve you from my golden voice so we can get this into thingy over with.

 

Stevens: How noble ...

 

The still imacculatly dress Funyon brings the microphone up to his lips ...

 

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, this is match NUMBER FOUR in the best of five series for the United States Heavyweight Championship, and it is also a Cage Match! The first person to climb the cage and get to the outside, having both feet touch the floor will be declared the winner!

 

"Angry Johnny" begins to play in the arena as the crowd begins to boo. Annie Eclectic appears from behind the curtain, winking and blowing kisses to the crowd in her traditional mocking way. She taps the belt fastened around one shouler, and motions that a second one will cross it on the other shoulder ...

 

Funyon: First, the challenger; down two matches to one. Hailing from Indianapolis, Indiana and weighing in at one hundred seventy five pounds ... She is a member of the Magnificent Seven, and she is the current SWF Light Heavyweight Champion ... Annniiiiieeee - Eeeeeecleeeeectiiiic !!!

 

Annie walks up to the referee, who opens the door for her, allowing her to enter the cage. She takes of her Light Heavyweight belt and hands it to Billy Chioda. Annie does a few warmups when "Cold" by Static X begins to play, making way for a blinding array of rave like strobe lights to invade the arena ...

 

Funyon: And her opponent! From Muenchen, Germany; weighing in at 225 lbs; he is the SWF United States Heavyweight champion : Tod - deeeeeeeeeee - Kin - deeeeeeeeeeeesssssss!!

 

Amidst all the smoke taking over the entrance way, out walks Tod deKindes, clad in his usual trench coat and silver shades, belt proudly strapped to his waist and along with his new black tights with an intricate silver lightning bolt pattern all over it. As Tod's trench coat sails in the inside arena wind with each step he takes down the ramp. Arrived in front of the huge steel structure, he takes a few seconds to look up at the cage and size it up.

 

Stevens: It's been publicized before, but this is Tod deKindes' first ever steel cage match, Bobby! You gotta believe that Annie might have the advantage in this one here tonight.

 

Riley: Advantage?! OF COURSE she'll have an advantage! Annie knows this ring INSIDE OUT. She's been kicking ass for a living MUCH longer than Tod ever has so you better BELIEVE that she'll make her best use of that advantage tonight in this cage match!

 

Tod calmly relieves himself of his trench coat, along with his silver framed sunglasses; both of which he dumps near the ring steps. He unsnaps his U.S. title belt from his waist, hucking it towards referee Billy Chioda. He then lowers his head for a moment to briefly compose himself mentally. Suddenly, with a crisp flick of the head, he flips his hair back and darts up the cage!

 

Stevens: And now, the U.S. champion is racing up that wall and into the cage! He's not wasting any time!

 

Riley: But the referee is RIGHT THERE holding the door open for him!

 

As Annie beckons Tod to Just Bring It, the champion himself crosses the top of that cage wall in a flash and finally drops down to the canvas, as the opening bell is called. Annie is quickly on Tod with a series of right hands.

 

Stevens: And here we go!

 

Irish whip attempt by Annie is reversed by Tod, as he sends her running to the ropes instead. Annie ducks a massive clothesline attempt, followed up a stinging back elbow attempt. On the third bounce, she leaps off feet with her own cross body attempt, but she's CAUGHT! Tod looks to body slam her down to the mat, but he spins her around and DROPS her with his somewhat modified sit down Rock Bottom!

 

Stevens: And right off the bat, there's that move he calls the Formula For Failure, and he just dropped Annie right on the back of her head!

 

With Annie down, Tod aims for her forehead and drops the point of the elbow right on that very same body part. Repeat a number of times, really fast. He brings her back up to her feet by the hair, only to Irish whip her into the ropes one more time. She ducks yet another clothesline attempt, but Tod comes right back with a SOLID knee lift to the gut, doubling the Light Heavyweight champion over. Tod hops backwards, shifting his weight and throwing himself into the ropes in the process, and then he bounces back, connecting with a big time swinging neck breaker. He runs the ropes one more time, before leaping up high into the air and landing on Annie's forehead with a massive knee drop! She staggers up to her feet, checking up on her forehead for blood, but finding none. Tod quickly grabs her by the bun in her hair and sends her running from side to side, bashing her face in the cage wall in the process!

 

Stevens: Into the cage goes Annie Eclectic!

 

Annie's head goes bouncing one side of the cage to the other, as she's suddenly unable to beg for mercy or to come up with a defensive for getting her head rammed into a steel mesh. Annie staggers off into a corner, checking her nose for any red visquous life fluid. Tod quickly grabs control of her with a gut shot, followed up by a front face lock. He throws her arm up and over his head, then sends her down in a flash with a crisp snap suplex. A few faint members of the crowd can be heard go "Hoo!". He holds onto the \x{2026} well, hold, slowly muscling Annie back up to her feet. He lifts her up again, only to plant her down with a face first front suplex.

 

Crowd: Hoo !!

 

Back to her feet Annie goes, courtesy of Tod and still in the front face lock. He tries to lift her up for what would be the "drop the sorry sucka on the top rope" suplex, but since there doesn't seem to be any room for that, Tod takes a second to improvize something else (the crowd IS waiting for that third "Hoo!!" anyway); but that proves to be one second too long, as Annie starts fighting back with a series of stinging right hands to the mid section. Tod puts her back into her place with another duo of solid knee lifts to the mid section, then puts her back into the vertical suplex position. He successfully manages to lift her up, but her legs are dangling to get free. She manages to push her legs off the side of the cage wall, as she reverses the suplex attempt into a modified tornado DDT!

 

Riley: Oh, YEAH BABY!!

 

Stevens: What a counter move from Annie Eclectic!

 

A few ringside fans can't help but applaud the Hardcore Queen's creative way to get out of a suplex attempt. As they both take a few seconds to recuperate on the mat, Annie is quickly up first, dragging Tod up to HIS own feet by the hair. With two handfuls of hair, she takes a few steps forward and literally THROWS Tod's face into the steel mesh. She does it for a second time, leaving Tod knocked loopy but standing in the middle of the ring. Annie throws herself into a nearby set of ropes and comes right back off, connecting with a HUGE drop kick to the jaw, sending Tod down to the mat!

 

Riley: Drop kiss!

 

Stevens: Beg your pardon?

 

Riley: Drop kiss, dammit! Listen!!

 

Stevens: Are you developping a lisp?

 

Riley: Shut up and WATCH as Annie is now taking control of this match!

 

Annie contemplates going for more offense for a split second, but she then has a better idea. Her looks veers over to the right and up direction, as the grips the steel mesh firmly with her hand.

 

Stevens: And now, Annie's gonna be the first to attempt to climb out of this cage !!

 

Under enouragement from the crowd, Tod is quick to spring up to his feet and latch himself onto Annie's leg. He pulls with all his might, but she's having none of THAT! A quick forearm to the lower back is neede to necessarily stun him long enough for the planned spot.

 

Stevens: Now, Tod climbing up after her!!

 

He wraps his right arm around the back of her neck, grabs another grown up and pushes himself off the cage wall \x{2026} as BOTH come crashing down to the hard canvas below.

 

Stevens: My God!

 

Riley: Whoa!

 

Stevens: I don't believe this! A side Russian Leg sweep from the side of the cage, all the way to the ring mat. BOTH wrestlers could be down and out right here in the early going.

 

Riley: No way, Annie doesn't know the meaning of the word 'Quit', Slam Ball !! When she gets thrown onto her back, she'll get RIGHT back up!

 

Stevens: Yeah, God knows she's been down on her back many times before.

 

Riley: Let's hope she doesn't flip!

 

Both fighters roll onto their sides, slowly working their way back to their feet. The champion gets up first and launches a hard right hand at his opponent. Annie ducks the punch and finds herself sliding up behind deKindes. Wrapping both arms around his waist, Annie attemps to lift him up and over her head but Tod finds a way to block and keep his feet on the ground. Annie tries to lift up a second time, but Tod starts bashing away at Eclectic's locked hands. Tod breaks the waistlock and spins around, locking his hands around her waist and lifting up... up... and driving Annie headfirst to the mat behind him!

 

Stevens: A bit of a shuffle there after both fighters got the wind knocked out of them but the Champion comes through getting the German suplex on the Hardcore Queen!

 

Riley: But Mark, she's HARDCORE, a little bump to the back of the head won't do anything, Tod will need more than that.

 

Stevens: Normally yes, but how would you fare after a Russian leg sweep off the cage?

 

Riley: I don't know, I'm only hardcore in bed! WOOO!

 

Stevens: *mumbling* why did I set him up for that?

 

Tod looks at his fallen opponent, then veers up and left himself. He stands up and grabs the cage and begins to climb as the crowd begins to cheer...

 

Stevens: It's the champ's turn to try for the win! He could tie up an incredible US Title defense right here tonight!

 

Annie slowly gets up to her feet as Tod reaches the halfway point of his climb to the top of the cage. Annie realizes the situation and frantically tries to climb up after him to prevent the loss of the series. Tod continues to climb but his pace is slower than his opponents, causing Annie E to catch up near the top of the cage...

 

Riley: That's it! Knock him down and continue to climb, you can take this one now!

 

Stevens: For anyone that's been in a cage match, you know that that is a hard proposition. The force of someone leaving the cage almost always knocks your own grip loose...

 

Riley: How many cage matches have you been in?

 

Stevens: I've spent more time in a cage then you have as world champ...

 

Riley: Damn you....

 

Eclectic perches herself on the same rungs that deKindes is on and sends a shaky elbow shot to the champion's head, stopping his climb. A second shot lolls his head backwards enough for the challenger to wrap her arm around his and back, putting on a reverse face lock. She takes a deep breath, spends a second pleading with whatever higher power may or may not exist, then pushes off horizontally from the cage, dragging herself and deKindes down.... down.... down until the force spikes the back of the Champion's head onto the mat from ten feet up! The crowd yells out "HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!" in shock from the desperation counter.

 

Stevens: MY GOD! First deKindes hits a Russian Leg Sweep from the cage, and Annie E returns the favor and some with a reverse DDT off the cage! Headfirst onto the mat, she may have just paralyzed him!

 

Riley: And if he can't move, he can't stop the woman from winning, it's that simple!

 

Stevens: I agree, but what a horrible way to win.

 

Again, the challenger struggles to get to her feet after the high spot, but her opponent struggles to simply move. As soon as she gets to her feet, Annie Eclectic walks over to her opponent and drags him up to his feet. The Champion simply stands stunned, unable to move or fall from shock. Annie takes the opportunity to run to the near ropes, bounce off, and leap in the air catching Tod's head with her arm. With the headlock applied mid-air, she twists her body around, spinning and driving the champion's head to the mat again, the force of the attack pulling his body up with him, then flopping backwards to the mat.

 

 

Riley: Tornado DDT!!! Efficent and ruthless, Mark, that's how you win matches! An incredible reverse DDT off the cage, followed by a tornado DDT... finish off with a Hollowpoint, and we may just have a winner!

 

Stevens: I can't doubt your logic, but I may doubt Annie's as she's certain she's knocked out the champ! She's up on the cage and climbing for a second time!

 

The challenger climbs up, her pace slowed by fatigue and the throbbing pain inside her head. But she continues to climb up... up... reaching halfway up the cage without noticing her opponent beginning to stir. Tod reaches his feet and looks up only to see his opponent nearly at the top of the cage. Thinking fast, the champion runs to the opposite ropes and returns, leaping high into the air and landing a dropkick... on the side of the cage. Annie's footing slips but is able to stay on with her hands. Regaining her footing, she manages to take another step up, her head peeking over the top of the cage.

 

Stevens: Smart move by deKindes, no one can climb that fast so knock the ground out from beneath her!

 

Riley: But the challenger stays up Mark! If she concentrates and holds on she can tie this series up!

 

Tod runs back to the ropes and flies in the air, dropkicking the cage a second time. The cage walls all lean over with the kick and return to position, the recoil nearly knocking Annie off. But Eclectic holds on, taking another step... and another as Tod rebounds off the ropes a third time. With the third dropkick, Tod forces Annie to double herself over the top of the cage as the cage again leans in her direction.... then pushes back, throwing the Hardcore Queen off the top of the cage and landing flat on her back on the mat! The crowd gasps then breaks into cheers as deKindes fights on.

 

Stevens: A close call for the champion and a hard fall for Annie E! If Tod is sensible he'd start to climb RIGHT NOW! While she's stunned and unable to go.

 

The champion walks over to his opponent, who is laying still on the mat. Pulling her up to a standing position, Tod reaches his arm underneat Annie, apparently to put on an abdominal stretch. But Tod then takes Annie's free hand and puts it through her legs (calm down guys) and then locks it with his own in a pump handle position. Pulling the Hardcore Queen up, the champion then drives her back down to the mat in a sit out slam...

 

Stevens: SPIRIT BREAKER! SPIRIT BREAKER! A knock out move done right after getting his opponent thrown from the top of the cage! Annie Eclectic is down, out, and possibly done if Tod can get up on the cage and over!

 

Riley: I can't believe it, there has to be someway, some bit of Annie E left to fight on....

 

Tod grabs the cage and begins to climb... up.... up, moving faster as the crowd cheers him onwards. He reaches the top of the cage and ventures a look down at his opponent.... completely still on the mat. With a smile he rolls over the top and gingerly climbs down, both feet landing safely at the floor outside the ring.

 

 

DING DING DING

 

Funyon: Your winner, gaining his third win and STILL S W F United States Champion.... Tooood deKiiiiiiindeeeees!!!!!

 

"Cold" by Static X begins to play as deKindes walks over to the Chioda standing by the locked door. Chioda hands deKindes his US title and goes to work unlocking the cage.

 

Stevens: That's it it's over!!! Tod deKindes takes matches one, two, and four to win the series and keep the US Title!

 

Riley: Travesty. Pure, unadulterated travesty.

 

Stevens: Either way, hand it to Annie E. She may not be the greatest of human beings but she fought tooth and nail, especially tonight giving us the definition of a give and take match. But it was Tod deKindes who won out.

 

Tod raises his belt up to the crowd who cheers mightily. The champion turns to Billy Chioda, about to unlock the cage..... and KNOCKS HIM OUT WITH HIS BELT! The crowd starts to buzz, unsure of what just happened. deKindes fastens his belt around his waist and unlocks the cage door. He runs over, grabs Funyon's microphone, then runs back into the cage and locks the door behind him.

 

 

Stevens: Why the hell did deKindes take out Chioda? What is he doing?

 

Riley: I'm not sure but I'm definitly interested....

 

Annie E is just beginning to stir as the champion walks over to her...

 

Tod: Cut the damn music!

 

"Cold" cuts out inside the arena, as Tod puts his foot square on the throat of Annie E, keeping her pinned to the mat.

 

Tod: You just couldn't leave well enough alone could you? Couldn't stay out of my buisness. I know you know about Sara, and frankly, that pisses me off. My relationship with Sara is my buisness and MINE ALONE. And YOU try and turn it into a power grab to take MY US belt from me. Well guess what. It didn't work. Like I said, you can't beat me. First Blood was a fluke! An abberation against my record, and let it be known that I should have swept you then and there.

 

Stevens: WHAT is he going on about?

 

Riley: He's telling the truth, He did have Annie's number the past couple weeks...

 

Stevens: What are YOU on about now?

 

Riley: Stop using caps, Mark, it's rude.

 

The crowd hushes to silent murmurs, unsure of what to make of the champion...

 

Tod: So here, in front of my fans, and for everyone out back watching. Let me just make it crystal clear what happens when you get in Tod deKindes' buisness.

 

With that Tod drops the microphone to the mat, and VICIOUSLY kicks Annie E in the head. Eclectic rolls with the hit, clutching her head in pain as Tod uses it to drag her up to her feet with. Whipping her to the ropes, deKindes catches her on her return in the air, lifting her up... and SLAMMING her to the mat with a spinebuster! deKindes then drags Annie up to her feet again, throwing her back into the ropes with authority and SLAMMING her to the mat again with another spinebuster. A small portion of the crowd starts to boo, which slowly gets picked up by the rest of the crowd.

 

 

Stevens: Wait now, the match is over Tod. It's all over! You won, why is he doing this???

 

Riley: He's making a point and making it damn clear Mark. You don't mess with deKindes. Heya, that kinda rhymes!

 

Stevens: This is no joking matter. Annie might have gotten a concussion from her fall off the cage, and Tod's looking to...

 

Riley: ...Take her out! Do you blame him after all the crap she put him through?

 

Stevens: RILEY! You were on your side just minutes ago.

 

Riley: And same back to you. We all know what that means.

 

Tod ignores the jeering crowd and picks Annie E up from the mat again. He screams out "THIS IS FOR FIRST BLOOD!" as he starts a gut wrench suplex, only to lift Annie E up into an inverted piledriver position...

 

Stevens: Oh no...

 

Riley: OH YES!

 

The front row facing deKindes screams out against him but the plea falls on deaf ears as Tod lifts Annie up from the back, the two bodies making an inverted L from the mat. The US champ then sits out, driving the Hardcore Queen face first into the mat, her head bouncing back at a sick angle before plopping back down to the mat, completely still.

 

 

Stevens: There was NO reason for this! NONE! Tod won, he won soundly without argument, there's no reason for this. I can't believe it.

 

Riley: Same here, and I think I've gained new found respect for this young man.

 

Stevens: This may be over, but maybe not. But the moment Annie Eclectic gets up and is able to function.... if ever... I'd hate to be Tod deKindes then.

 

 

Tod unlocks the cage door and walks out, raising his hands up high and smiling to a crowd that for all intensive purposes... hates his guts. He grabs the microphone again to address the crowd as he walks up the ramp.

 

 

Tod: Remember, learn from Annie Eclectic. Leave Tod's life to Tod, and worry about your own, because you'll have to... when you face me!

 

 

Tod smiles again to the crowd, oblivious to their booing and walks through the curtain.

 

 

Stevens: I don't know what to say, ladies and gentlemen.

 

Riley: I do! Because up next we have what could be another senseless beatdown like what we just witnessed! SPIN THE WHEEL, MAKE THE DEAL! FROST, ASH, HARDCORE, NEXT!

 

Stevens: Right now....

[Guest BA_Baracus]

The camera fades in on an extreme close up of a wooden knob. It pulls back to reveal a large, carnival-esque wheel with words written in a bloody red on designated wedges. Referee Sexton Hardcastle, interviewer Ben Hardy and Frost, in a jet black suit, can be seen standing next to the wheel on the platform.

 

Riley: “Forget that damn mushy wedding. This the moment that you all have been really waiting for.”

 

Stevens: “For some people, but certainly not Ash Ketchum. On the last Storm, Ash agreed to face Frost for the Hardcore title in a Spin the Wheel, Make the Deal match, despite his nuptials also taking place here at Dissention.”

 

The fans pop loudly as Ash Ketchum stroll out from the back, still in his tuxedo from the wedding. He raises his arms out to the crowd and quickly crosses to the nearby stage where the wheel stands.

 

Ash trots up to the platform and eyes Frost in his very smart suit. Hardy holds a microphone toward Ash so he can speak.

 

“Nice to see that you dressed for my wedding, Frosty.” Ash smirks bemused.

 

Frost puts a hand on the microphone and leans toward him. “I’m not dressed for your wedding. I’m dressed for your funeral.”

 

The audience boos and the two men exchange a tense stare. Sexton Hardcastle steps between the two men to separate them.

 

“Let’s get this over with,” he states. “Ash, since Frost made the challenge, you spin the wheel. Whatever wedge it’s on when the wheel stops is the match you two will have later on for the Hardcore title.”

 

Ash nods his head in silence to Frost, who returns the gesture. Ketchum steps back and puts a hand on the wheel. He takes a deep breath and sends the wheel onto its destiny with a hard push.

 

Stevens: “This wheel contains some of the most brutal and despicable matches I have ever seen, including a few I’ve never even heard of before.”

 

Riley: “We highlighted the wheel choices on our pre-game show, but where she stops, nobody knows.”

 

The wheel starts to slow down; it then begins to creep along and hovers over a section reading “Window Pain”

 

Stevens: “It’s Frost signature match! No, that would not bode well for Ash at all.”

 

With one last gasp, the wheel trips one last spoke to the next section. The wedge reads, “Stash the Ash.”

 

The crowd hisses as Ash is beside himself, wanting to know what the match is. Frost

chuckles lightly to himself.

 

“Alright,” Hardcastle starts out while reading from a slip of paper “here are the rules. Ash, Frost here has been so kind to book you and Misty tickets on a plane heading to Barbados for your honeymoon. The jet takes off approximately 30 minutes after we start the match here in the arena. All you have to do is get to the airport and board the plane, which Misty will already be on, before it takes off. All Frost has to do is stop you from making it. Are we agreed on the rules?”

 

Frost leans down to the mic and points a finger at Ash. “Oh yes, I was hoping for this one. While all the others would just allow me to bash your brains in, this is going to let me crush your spirits and ruin your marriage before it even starts.”

 

Hardy leans the mic to Ash. He contemplates matters with his head down and then raises it with a smile on his lips. “You can’t ruin my marriage, Frost. I’ve got the love of a good woman, a baby on the way and Pokemania in my blood. You want to play little games with me. Just remember whom the Cerebral Prankster and King of the Gimmick Match is. By this time tomorrow, I’ll be enjoying some fru-fru umbrella drinks on the beach on your dime with the Hardcore title firmly around my waist and my woman by my side. Pokemania ain’t going turbo big man, it’s going super duper octane mondo tubular extra wicked turbo with a side of awesomeness and a slice of bossness for dessert. AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGA!”

 

Ash pumps his fist in the air and leaves the podium to mad cheers while Frost dastardly laughs after him, dripping with confidence.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

“Up next,” says Stevens, doing in the business what is called a hype promo, “The first tag title defense by our latest tag team champions, Ced Ordonez and Thoth. While they haven’t tagged together since they won the titles from Chilly Chilly Bang Bang, they’ve already stirred up some controversy... by being themselves.”

 

(Cut to footage of Ced and Thoth playing on a Dance Dance Revolution machine. Taking turns doing double, freestyling, etc)

 

“My god,” says Riley, “That has to be the gayest thing ever.” The camera then zooms in to a shot of his face. “I mean, it’s not just dancing... it’s BAD dancing. Sigh... it’s really depressing.”

 

And before Stevens can talk, Riley talks some more. “And what’s worse, is that they can think they can make a marketable team out of this. It’s... stupid!”

 

Cut to the crowd, a few of whom are wearing Bemani Cross Wizards T-shirts.

 

“Goddamn you camera people!” shouts Riley. Stevens takes over, because he is the other announcer, but moreso because he is sane. “The challengers for the tag belts tonight come from Creative Control: Perfect Bo and Jay Dawg. While they’ve been low key, we’ve uncovered some footage we think you’ll find very interesting.

 

(Footage rolls, the cameraman sneaking up slowly on his intended targets so as to not be seen. Muffled voices can be heard.

 

“I dunno, dawg, this shit looks weird.”

 

“I know, Bo, but to beat these guys... we gotta know these guys. So we gotta figure out what the hell this is.”

 

It’s revealed that Bo and JD are trying to figure out the inner workings of Dance Dance Revolution.

 

“So what are these arrows for,” asks Bo, haltingly. “Damn, this shit’s too complicated.”

 

“No, no, I got it,” replies JD, putting in a few quarters, and then pressing... ummm... “Which one’s the start button?”

 

“I dunno, press ‘em all!” JD hits all the buttons at once, inadvertently starting the game. “What the hell... it’s in Japanese! What are we supposed to do?”

 

The screen changes to the difficulty setting, as JD chooses Light. The song select comes up...

 

“Holy shit... I’ve never heard of any of these songs.” JD scrolls down, picking... um...

 

“HAHAH! This song is called Blow My Whistle Bitch! That’s fuckin’ gold.” JD starts to play it, getting into it and even cutting a spin.

 

“Wait a minute... there’s a camera! What the hell?!” JD and Bo charge towards the camera. Footage ends.)

 

Stevens stifles back laughter, while Riley does not stifle his laughter. The camera quickly cuts to Funyon, who starts talking while “New York City” by Cam’ron and Jay-Z hits.

 

“The following contest is a tag team match... and it is for the S-W-F Tag Team Championships! Introducing first, at a total combined weight of 535 pounds, they represent Creative Control... JAAAAY DAWWWG and PERRRRRFECT BOOOO!”

 

The two men pose an impressive and imposing threat as they climb into the ring. JD mugs for the crowd, getting a nice-sized chorus of boos. “Hard to believe,” comments Mark Stevens, “That Jay Dawg, after ages slaving away in the undercard got his first title shot last month. He’s definitely cemented his position as a main-event level threat... but how will he and Bo fare against a tag team that defies all concepts of logic?”

 

At that moment, approximatley 8 billion flashing lights and other seizure-inducing colorful flashy things go off in the arena as the high energy new DDR anthem “D2R” by Naoki hits up.

 

“Everyone dance with me... everyone... ‘cause this is your last chance for a dance tonight!” And with that, Ced and Thoth come out onto the entry ramp, the Balancer moving his hands in a liquid pattern as they walk towards the ring.

 

“And their opponents, weighing in at a combined 439 pounds, they are the S-W-F Tag Team Champions... Ced Ordonez and Thoth... the BEEEEMANI... CROSSSS.... WIIIZARDS!”

 

Ced bobs his head to the rampant beat as the music fades with one final “D2R!” and the lights come back on. And stop flashing, to boot. Thoth steps out onto the apron as Perfect Bo cracks his neck out. Those two people will start the match out for their teams as the bell rings.

 

*DING DING DING*

 

Bo wastes no time, approaching Ced. The big man charges in a straight line, but Ced circles him, frustrating the New York native. Ced runs into the ropes after evading Bo for a few seconds, giving himself some room to breathe while giving himself momentum to launch an attack. He aims a dropkick to Bo’s leg, which stuns the big man... but it doesn’t take him down. Bo grins, flashing his white teeth. He steps down, smashing Ced’s ribs with a powerful, weighty kick.He picks up hurting Ordonez to his feet by the scruff of the neck. Ced wraps his arms around Bo and lands a few kidney punches, but they don’t even register on Bo’s pain radar. Bo quickly spins around and attempts to get a ¾ neckbreaker on Ced, but Ordonez slips out of his grasp. Ced falls to the mat and wraps an arm around Bo’s leg and schoolboys him. Bo falls over Ced’s frame and lands on the mat with his shoulders pinned as Ced uses as much of his 203-pound frame as he can for leverage.

 

ONE!

 

TW – Bo kicks Ced off with authority.

 

Ced sucks wind as he turns to his fellow Bemani Cross Wizard, who already has his hand extended. Ced crawls to Thoth and lunges toward him, but Bo grabs his leg just inches away from the tag and pulls him back to the Creative Control corner and tags in Jay Dawg. They slap Ordonez around for a little bit before whipping him into the ropes. They swing with a double clothesline, but Ced ducks it by a considerable margin. Ced rebounds and comes barreling at both opponents with a cross bodyblock. They both stumble back but they stay on their feet, leaving Ced stuck in a precarious position with Jay Dawg holding his legs and Bo holding his upper-body.

 

The two Creative Control members glance at each other with malicious intent as Jay Dawg cinches his arms around the waist of Ced and Bo simultaneously sets up a ¾ neckbreaker. Jay Dawg lets go of Ced’s waist as Bo comes crashing down, driving Ced into the mat face-first.

 

Riley: “And it’s a double team Perfect Pain from Creative Control! Forget about it!”

 

Ced is motionless as Bo uses his boot to flip him onto his back. Bo stomps him for good measure and taunts the booing crowd while Jay Dawg arrogantly covers his seemingly unconscious opponent with one knee on Ced’s chest.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THRE – NO! Thoth runs in and puts a knee to the back of Jay Dawg’s head, knocking him forward into the bottom rope. Bo turns around and is met with Thoth’s high leg clothesline, sending him reeling into the corner. Thoth runs toward him and jams his knee into Bo’s face. Bo stumbles forward before quickly getting clotheslined over the top rope before the referee tries to restore order and begins to force Thoth back to his corner.

 

Jay Dawg exchanges pleasantries with the exiting Thoth before redirecting his attention to Ced, who is doing little except for staring at the lights and curling his fingers. Jay Dawg firmly pins Ced’s shoulders as the referee gives his warning to Thoth before tending to count the fall.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THRE –NO!! Ced barely manages to slip a shoulder up as JD berates the referee about his slow count and a pissed off Perfect Bo returns to the apron. Ordonez blindly flails his arm in a hopeless attempt for a tag as Jay Dawg hardly struggles to pull him up by the tights. Ced appears a bit more aware of the situation as he swings his fists wildly, missing Jay Dawg with most of the thrown punches and barely grazing him with the ones that connect. JD sinks a knee into Ced’s gut to calm him down, causing Ced to dry heave in the process.

 

Jay Dawg places him into a standing headscissors, setting up JD’s Revenge, but Ced fights it by delivering Mongolian chops to the outer part of JD’s thighs while still in the headscissors. Ced tries for a double leg takedown, but JD stops Ced’s efforts with a few forearms to his back. Jay Dawg preps JD’s Revenge once again, but Ced thwarts it by back bodydropping Jay Dawg. JD slams onto the mat while Ced, expending much of his energy in that one power move, falls to his hands and knees as Thoth yells at him for their corner. Ced sees his partner from the corner of his eye as he begins to crawl towards him.

 

Thoth stretches out as much as he legally can as Ced crawls by a downed JD. Ced lunges but falls short again as JD grabs his boot and causes him to miss his intended target. Ced falls onto the mat and spins around to face Jay Dawg. He pushes himself up onto one foot at leaps up, nailing JD with a stunning enzuigiri. JD releases his grasp on Ced’s foot and falls to one knee as Ced seizes the opportunity and finally gets the tag to Thoth, the Nationwide Arena crowd popping like crazy for it.

 

Stevens: “HOT TAG TO THOTH! HOT TAG TO THOTH!”

 

Jay Dawg swings at the entering Thoth, but the punch is blocked and Thoth responds with one of his own. The Creative Control member flinches giving Thoth the chance to lay in some more punches, the crowd letting out a sharp “hoo!” with each blow. JD falls back into a neutral corner and Thoth lands one more blow before whipping him into the opposite corner. However, JD counters and Thoth winds up hitting the turnbuckles back first. Jay Dawg charges in, but meets the turnbuckle as well as Thoth manages to move out of harm’s way. A stunned JD staggers back two steps and into the clutches of Thoth, who grabs around his waist and delivers a backdrop suplex. Thoth rolls a shoulder up as the referee counts a fall on Jay Dawg.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

TH – NO! JD rolls out of the pinning predicament.

 

Thoth pulls JD up by the belt and whips him into the ropes towards Bo. Perfect Bo touches Jay Dawg on the back with a distinct slap as JD rebounds back toward Thoth. Thoth swings, but misses with a clothesline and he turns around into a kick in the gut from Jay Dawg. Jay Dawg scoops up Thoth as Bo enters the fray. The Creative Control Team glance at each other as Bo signals the JD. JD walks over to Bo with Thoth in his arms, but gets blindsided by Ced, who dropkicks him in the back of the leg. Jay Dawg topples over, the weight of Thoth driving the air out of him. Bo, not amused at all, grabs a hold of Ced with both arms. Ced’s arms come flying up, stunning Bo just enough for Ced to give him a Downward Spiral.

 

The referee assesses the damage as Thoth emerges first from the wreckage. Ced rolls under the ring ropes as Thoth picks up JD and sets him up for a Riot of the Blood. He cradles JD with his arms and glances at the crowd before dropping to his knees and drilling JD’s head into the center of the ring. Thoth hooks JD’s leg as a few crowd members begin going nuts for the pinfall…that’s not going to come. The referee taps Thoth on the shoulder and, very animated gestures, informs him that Jay Dawg isn’t the legal man. Thoth springs back to his feet, allowing a disoriented JD to roll to the outside, but Thoth immediately falls backward, falling victim to a roll up from Bo.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

No! Thoth kicks out but Bo retains possession of his leg and turns Thoth onto his stomach to apply a single leg crab. Thoth tries to fight to the ropes but gets stopped a good arm’s length away by Bo, who fully cinches in the Perfect Crank. The crowd goes nuts once again as Thoth screams in pain and tries to touch the ropes that are just out of his reach. Bo tightens his grasp even further as the referee checks on Thoth, who lifts his hand off the mat and clenches it into a fist. Thoth closes his eyes tightly as his hand quivers and opens, cocking back as if ready to slap itself onto the mat. Ced slowly rolls back in and gets to his feet walking briskly over to Bo and kicking him in the face to break the hold. Thoth winces in pain but is relieved that the hold was broken.

 

The referee admonishes Ced but Bo, feeling a more stern warning is in order, punching Ced in the face. Ced takes exception and uncharacteristically pushes the referee aside and returns fire with one of his own. Bo punches Ced again, but he swats it away before countering with a roundhouse kick. Ced lets another right leg roundhouse kick fly, but Bo catches it and gives Ced a Dragon Screw Legwhip for his troubles. Ced goes flying and winds up falling into and through the bottom and middle ropes.

 

Bo watches Ced tumble to the outside before turning around and catching Thoth’s boot with his gut, doubling him over, Thoth double underhooks Bo’s arms and drives him into the mat with a double arm DDT. He rolls Bo over and the referee begins slapping the canvas.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

No! Bo gets the shoulder up.

 

Thoth quickly tosses him into the corner and lands a solid uppercut on his chin. Bo staggers forward and Thoth hops onto the second rope, but JD pops up onto the apron intercepts him before he can pull off a Scum Gale. Thoth falls to a sitting position, momentarily dazed while perched on the top turnbuckle. JD enters the ring and goes up to try for a superplex. Bo tries to join him, but gets pulled down by Ced, who rolled into the ring moments ago. Ced delivers some quick roundhouse kicks to Bo’s legs before whipping him into the opposite corner.

 

JD, undeterred, continues his superplex attempt, but it comes to an abrupt halt when Thoth catches him with a punch to the temple. Jay Dawg loses his footing on the second turnbuckle and slips back onto the mat. Thoth, still sitting on the turnbuckles, jams his knee into the forehead Jay Dawg, spinning him around. Without hesitation, Thoth hops back onto the mat and quickly hops back onto the second turnbuckle facing away from JD. He moonsaults over for a Scum Gale, but JD avoids Thoth’s arms as he vaults over him causing Thoth to land on his posterior empty-handed.

 

Meanwhile, Ced chops away at Bo and takes a few steps back to charge, but winds up eating a perfect boot and Bo turns the tables and begins choking the smaller of the tag champs before slugging away at him. JD tosses Thoth into the opposite corner and punches away at him as well. The Creative Control representatives glance back at one another before whipping the champions toward one another. Ced suddenly slides onto the mat onto all fours and perpendicular to Thoth and Thoth springboards off of him and clocks Jay Dawg with a jumping high knee. Ced spins back onto his feet and both he and Bo charge at each other. Ced sticks his arm out and sweeps Bo’s legs out from under him. Bo hits the mat hard as Ced pops up and joins Thoth, who has JD against the ring ropes.

 

They both grab and arm and whip Jay Dawg into the ropes. Thoth then grabs Ced and Irish whips him as well in the same direction. As JD rebounds, Ced goes low and dropkicks him in the knee, causing him to tumble onto the mat. Jay Dawg gets up on one knee as the tag champs both measure him up from each side. Before JD realizes what is going on, Ced delivers a roundhouse kick to his face at the same instant Thoth nails JD in the back of the head with his own roundhouse kick. The impact causes JD to stiffen up before crumpling to his side.

 

Stevens: “Catastrophic! Stereo roundhouse kicks to the head!”

 

Ced rolls JD out of the way as Thoth directs his attention to Bo. He scoops up Bo and clasps his arms together as he gets Bo in a tombstone piledriver. Thoth spikes Bo with the Riot of the Blood and drags him parallel to the ring ropes as Ced bounces off the opposite set. Ced hurdles over the prone Bo and jumps onto the middle ropes, doing a backflip off of them and planting his feet firmly onto the midsection of Bo.

 

Stevens: “Riot of the Blood from Thoth! Mark Out from Ced! It’s a Full Combo!”

 

Ced hops backward off of him and falls onto his BUTT as Thoth covers Bo. The referee slides into position as Ced keeps Jay Dawg at bay just in case.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Funyon: “Your winners, and still the SWF Tag Team Champions, THE BEMANI CROSS WIIIZAAAAARDS!”

 

The crowd cheers as “D2R” comes over the P.A. system and Thoth and Ced Ordonez hold onto their titles for another day.

 

Stevens: “The Bemani Cross Wizards retain!”

 

Riley: “’Thrown Together Tag Team A’ beats ‘Thrown Together Tag Team B’. Big whoop…”

 

Stevens: “Thoth and Ced showed some cohesiveness tonight and that was a deciding factor in their match tonight.”

 

Thoth slings his belt over his shoulder and Ced tucks in under his arm as they both head to back, raising their arms up high in victory. Some highlights from the match are shown as “D2R” fades and the Foo Fighters’ “All My Life” replaces it.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

As we return from commercial, we come upon a ornately decorated ring, filled with seats that are sat in by many. The ramp has been fitted to connect directly to the ring, and the ring ropes on the end facing the entrance have been removed as not to obstruct the procession. Inside the ring is a small gazebo, under which the altar is located. A red carpet has been placed in the ring, like the WWF does for formal stuff, and everything is decorated with white lace. Sitting ringisde, dressed in tuxes of diffferent stlyes and colors, are “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley, ready for the moment of a lifetime for two SWF superstars.

 

Stevens: Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen to the Nationwide Arena in Columbus, Ohio. For those of you who have just rejoined us, you missed our general procession for the wedding of Ash Ketchum and Misty, or should I say, Michael Marshall Craven and Amy Rose Wheeler.

 

Riley: Ya didn’t miss much, folks.

 

Stevens: Well, looks like everyone’s here-

 

Suddenly, the arena lights fade into blackness as a soft female voice whispers, “Midnight Carnival.” The SmarkTron flashes blazing white in time with the opening beats of the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ “Love Rollercoaster” as the Carnival’s anthem pumps through the arena, revealing with each flash thin black lettering that reads “Step Right Up.” As the guitar part drops in, three blue laser lights trace the arena, all stemming from the same point in the middle of the entrance ramp. As the words “rollercoaster of love” echo through the arena for the first time, the laser lights flare out into a blue haze across the entrance ramp as the members of the Midnight Carnival step out from behind the curtain.

 

Stevens: Looks like ELM and CIA almost missed the wedding!

 

Riley: Shame on them!

 

As the refrain arrives for the first time, the arena plunges back into darkness just as purple strobe lights tear through the house and the blue laser lights spiral wildly, illuminating ELM and CIA in funky, staccato bursts. The SmarkTron video plays, flashing half-second clips of classic maneuvers from the Carnival’s members. They make their way to the ring, and get down to the business at hand...

 

 

 

Which is taking their place beside the other male members of XF9, Tod deKindes, Longdogger Pete, Renegade, and the best man of the whole damn thing, Ash’s former rival-turned-tag partner, Xero, plus Ash’s brother Kenny Craven, aka new NWA-TNA employee KJ Walker. Across the way are the bridesmaids, including Sarah Leavenworth, along with Misty’s college cheerleading friends Amanda Hurstbeck and Janyne Pyrzinski. Noticeably, a seat up front has this placecard in it, possibly to symbolize something for Ash, the place card reading:

 

“Reserved for Edwin MacPhisto”

 

Ash possibly hoped that Edwin would show up, but alas, he did not, as he has seemingly disappeared all together. But as “Love Rollercoaster” cuts off, “Luke’s theme” from Star Wars kicks up, and from behind the curtain, another man steps. 7 feet tall, 325 pounds, built like Brock Lesnar, but his face, and the rest of his head, down to his hair style and color, resembles that of Sgt. Slaughter.

 

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome a former AWA Tag Team Champion and a former WWF World Champion, the man one known as Kull The Conqueror and the owner of Saskatchewan Pro Wrestling... KEN CRAVEN!!!!

 

The pro wrestling legend makes his way into the rinig, waving to the fans as he makes his way to the front row and takes his seat next to the aisle.

 

Stevens: Craven’s World Title Regin took place after Wrestlemania 3, but was never recongnized at all, as it ended two weeks later at the hands of Hulk Hogan. But his AWA Tag Team championship was, as he held onto that belt for nearly six months!

 

Riley: That’s Ash’s dad? Man, I’m takin’ everything back bad I said about him!

 

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

 

Stevens: WOW! The crowd in Columbus is alive as Pokemania rolls into town to get hitched!

 

Riley: The only thing I dislike about Ash’s theme is that you can’t chant “You Suck!” to it.

 

Stevens: Bobby!

 

Riley: What?

 

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

 

Stevens: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the man you know and love as Ash Ketchum, being accompanied by his mother Deborah Craven, Michael Craven! Son of pro wrestling legend Ken Craven, aka Kull The Counqueror from the AWA and WWF!

 

Riley: His real name is Michael? God, I’ll make fun of him forever now!

 

He climbs up onto the apron, entering the ring. Instead of doing his normal stuff, he calmly walks up to the altar, where the priest presiding over the wedding, Father James Ricks of the St. Peter’s Church of Clearwater, Florida, stands. He is a middle-aged priest, and he stands there, happily smiling as Ash’s music cuts out, being replaced by “Here Comes The Bride”.

 

Stevens: It’s time to get this wedding on!

 

Riley :Is it true that Ash wanted Mills Lane to prcoeed over the wedding-

 

Stevens: Oh, shut up. You’re ruining the mood!

 

Misty and her father, Anton, come out onto the stage. Misty wears a beautiful, flowing white dress that looks like this. She smiles happily as she comes down the ramp with ther father. The crowd is in awe of how beautiful she looks. And you should be, too.

 

Stevens: And of course, the bride, better known as Misty, being accompanied by her father Anton Wheeler, Ms. Amy Wheeler!!!

 

Riley: Man, if she looked like that more often, I’d f-

 

Stevens: That’s enough of that, mister.

 

Amy slowly makes her way up to the ring, where she joins Mike along side the altar. Mike beams happily as he sees his future wife walk down the aisle towards him. Once Anton takes his seat, the ceremony begins as the sold-out Columbus crowd quiets down to a whisper.

 

Father James: We are gathered here today with your friends, and family, to witness your marriage, and to share in the joy of this occasion. Today should be one of the happiest and most memorable days or your life.

 

Father James: Who gives this woman to be married to this man?

 

As Father James finishes, Amy’s father steps forward and says :

 

Mr. Wheeler: I do, Anton Wheeler.

 

Amy’s dad then sits back down as Father James continues with the ceremony.

 

Father James: Life is composed of many meaningful events. One of these events is marriage. Marriage is a commitment to life. To the best that two people can find, and bring out in each other. Marriage offers opportunities for sharing and growth that no other human relationship can equal. A physical and emotional joining that is promised for a lifetime.

 

The crowd cheers as Father James continues on with the ceremony again:

 

Father James: On this day you stand somewhat apart from all other human beings, You stand in the charmed circle of your love, and this is how it should be.

 

Love is not meant to be a possession of two people alone. Rather it should be a source of common energy.

 

*brief pause*

 

Love is the most beautiful gift we are given to share, and the more your love is shared, the quicker it grows. Love will give you the strength to live your lives with courage. Love is nurturing, caring and being loyal to each other, standing side by side as equals.

 

*brief pause*

 

In the sweetness of your love let there be laughter.

 

*brief pause*

 

Build your home on a solid foundation; let this retreat be an island of sanity and serenity in this frenzied world. A Symbol of people living together in love and peace.

 

*brief pause*

 

Let this home provide you with all the shelter and security you will need, for each new experience will help you grow as a married couple. Remember that people are more important then possessions, and welcome all who enter your door.

 

*brief pause*

 

When two people pledge to love and care for each other in marriage, they create a spirit unique to themselves, which will bind you closer then any spoken or written word. Marriage is a promise, a potential, made in the hearts of two people who love, which takes time to fulfill.

 

*brief pause as the crowd cheers for a sec*

 

Riley: It’s taking him long enough.

 

Stevens: Shut up... this is beautiful.

 

Father James: Michael and Amy would like me to read a poem, one that has special meaning for them. Share this poem with each other, as often as you can:

 

Once in a lifetime, you find someone who touches not only your heart, but also your soul

Once in a lifetime, you discover someone who stands beside you, not over you.

You find someone who loves you for who you are, and not for what you could be.

Once in a lifetime - If your lucky, you find someone as I have found you.

 

The crowd and the guests all applaud at this point as Ash and Misty both take a large sigh. They both seem pretty nervous about this thing, but they know they love each other. Heck, they’re even having a kid together. Now if that isn’t love, than... it’s rather weird.

 

Riley: Did I mention that Ash had Stubby lock M7 in their locker room so they wouldn’t pull anything on him-

 

Stevens and Funyon: Shhhhhhh!

 

As the crowd quiets down once more, Father James starts up again:

 

Father James: I will read from First Corinthians Chapter 13 verses 4 through 7:

 

Love is patient, Love is Kind

Love is not jealous, it does not put on airs.

Love is never rude, it is not self-seeking.

It is not prone to anger,

Neither does it brood over injuries,

Love does not rejoice in what is wrong, But rejoices with the truth.

There is no limit to loves forbearance,

To its trust, its hope, its power to endure, Love never fails.

 

Riley: That’s a beautiful poem... *sniff*

 

Father James: Michael and Amy would like to honor their parents.Would Ken, Deborah, Anton, and Ami, please stand up?

 

Amy’s parents, Anton and Ami Wheeler, as well as Michael’s parents, Ken and Deborah Craven, both stand up as Michael and Amy hand their parents each a single red rose before returning to the altar.

 

Father James: Your children are giving you a single red rose. The red rose rose symbolizes beauty and love. They wish to express this love to you for not only being their parents, But for all the love and care you have given to them. They know that this love can be passed down to the next generation. You have been their strength and their support in thier journey through this lifetime. You are the wind beneath their wings.

 

The crowd pops as Father James turns his focus back towards the couple, asking Michael:

 

Father James: Do you Mike, Take Amy to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love and to cherish until your life's end?

 

Michael: I do.

 

Father James: And do you Amy, Take Michael to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love and to cherish until your life's end?

 

Amy: I do.

 

The crowd pops here, but quells itself as Father James continues:

 

Father James: Michael and Amy, will you please face each other, and hold hands. Repeat these words after after me; please say them together and to each other.

 

Michael and Amy: Today is the day I marry my friend. The one I laugh with, dream with, live for, and love. Our life together begins today. We will share our thoughts, our hopes, and our very selves. I will love you in sickness and in health for better or worse, for all our days together.

 

By the end of this, both Michael and Amy are in tears of happiness, and the crowd cheers again, quieting only so that Father James may speak once more.

 

Father James: May I have the rings please?

 

At this time, Michael’s young nephew of three years, Chris ,steps forward. There are a few “Awwww!”s as the little one waddles up the aisle, big grin on his face. He walks up into the gazebo, where his uncle pats him on the head. At this point, the minister takes the rings and says:

 

Father James: The rings are in the shape of a circle, without beginning, and without end. They symbolize the never ending quality of your love, commitment and loyalty to each other. The substance of which these rings are composed is a symbol of purity - Purity of mind and heart, which will ever characterize your touching, your caring, and your sharing.

 

Let us pray...

 

All in the ring bow their heads at this point as Father James recites a prayer:

 

Father James: Bless Oh Lord these rings, for they who give them and they who recieve them may abide in thy peace, and continue in thy favor until their life's end Through Jesus Christ our lord, AMEN.

 

All: Amen.

 

Riley: Can we just cut to the chase?

 

Stevens: SHHHHHH!!!!

 

Father James now turns to Michael and says:

 

Father James: Michael, will you take Amy's ring, place it lovingly on her finger, and repeat your vows to her.

 

Michael: Amy, I give you this ring as a pledge of my love, I ask you to share my life, as my wife, and life's partner. With this ring I thee wed.

 

A huge applause strikes up here, but it hushes as the ceremony continues on with Father James turning to Amy.

 

Father James: Amy, will you please take Michael's ring, place it lovingly on his finger, and repeat your vows to him please.

 

Amy: Michael, I give you this ring as a pledge of my love, I ask you to share my life, as my husband, and life's partner. With this ring I thee wed.

 

A huge applause also strikes up here, as the fans think the wedding is about to end, but they quiet down as they realize their mistake.

 

Father James: May the rings you have exchanged be a reminder of the love and faithfulness you have pledged to each other. Marriage is the Golden ring in a chain, Beginning with a glance, and ending in eternity.

 

Another loud applause from the crowd happens, but they quickly quiet down, as there is a little more left to go.

 

Father James: I will now repeat the Apache Indian wedding prayer:

 

Now you will feel no rain, for each of you will be shelter to the other.

Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be warmth to the other.

Now there is no more loneliness, for you are two persons, but only one life.

Now go to your dwelling place, to enter into the days of your togetherness.

May your days be good and long upon this Earth.

 

This time, the crowd remians silent excpet for a small buzz in section 213 as the minister continues:

 

Father James: Now as you Michael and Amy have consented together in wedlock, and have pledged yourselves each to the other, in the presence of this company.

 

The crowd begins to pick up in cheer, starting off small, but crescendoing louder every second.

 

Father James: By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you, husband and wife.

 

The crowd begins to roar, but now, they cannot quiet them, as they anticipate what comes next:

 

Father James: Michael, You may kiss your bride.

 

Michael turns with a smile as he looks into Amy’s eyes, and the two embrace, sharing a passionate kiss. The crowd explodes at this point, cheering as loudly as they can and chanting “KETCHUM! KETCHUM!” as loud as they can.

 

Stevens: THERE IT IS!

 

Riley: Go Ash-errr-Mike! Yeah! You lucky man, you!

 

As the crowd cheers, Amy and Michael stop kissing for a second as Father James turns towards the gatherers and says:

 

Father James: I proudly present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Michael and Amy Craven.

 

The crowd is on their feet now, applauding and cheering as loud as they can. In fact, EVERYONE is on their feet, applauding and cheering, from the most powerful man in the federation, Stubby P. McWeed, to the lowliest, almost forgotten wrestlers like poor Ced Ordonez, who deserves much more credit for what he’s done. Even the man who sits in the back row and was personally invited by Ash, but forced to come by Stubby: Jay Dawg.

 

Stevens: What a night! Everyone’s on their feet! Even our great commissioner Stubby P. McWeed and Jay Dawg!

 

Riley: Even me! And that’s an accomplishment!

 

As everyone applauds and cheers, Michael and Amy leave the ceremony as Aerosmith's "Don't Want To Miss A Thing" plays in the background, and we are led off into commercial land by Ash carrying his newlywed wife off towards the back, recieving pats on the back from Pete, Stubby, Renegade, and El Luchador Magnifico before we fade into a Pepsi Twist MAX commercial, ironically starring who else but Ash Ketchum!

[Guest BA_Baracus]

We return to Nationwide Arena with the crowd somewhat stymied by the result of the spin. They’re cheering, but their cheers are muted, as they are still in a bit of shock from the whole situation. As we come back from commerical, the Foo Fighter’s “All My Life” plays loudly in the foreground of the millions of TV sets across the nation:

 

All my life I've been searching for something

Something never comes never leads to nothing

Nothing satisfies but I'm getting close

Closer to the prize at the end of the rope

All night long I dream of the day

When it comes around then it's taken away

Leaves me with the feeling that I feel the most

The feeling comes to life when I see your ghost

 

Come down don't you resist

You have such a delicate wrist

And if I give it a twist

Something to hold when I lose my breath

Will I find something in that

So give me just what I need

Another reason to bleed

ONE BY ONE hidden up my sleeve

ONE BY ONE hidden up my sleeve

 

Hey don't let it go to waste

I love it but I hate the taste

Weight keeping me down

 

Hey don't let it go to waste

I love it but I hate the taste

Weight keeping me down...

 

Quickly, the camera flies around the arena during the song, allowing us to catch glimpses of signs, reading things like:

 

“FROST IS HaRDKoR!!!

 

“I CAME HERE FOR SUICIDE KING!”

 

“STUBBY P. MCWEED PUT MY ASS IN THIS SEAT!”

 

and

 

“Ash and Misty, sittin’ in a tree... F-U-C-K-I-N-G!!!” (now that’s just dirty...)

 

And with that, we turn to our announcers, “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens and “I’m In The Dugout And I’ll Never Get Up To Bat In The Game Of Love” Bobby Riley. Bobby Riley’s emotion of the day is shock. He can’t believe what the hell just happened on the wheel. He wants to frown unhappily and curse his bad luck, but he can’t. Riley complains as Stevens... well, he just sits there.

 

Stevens: Welcome back to SWF Dissention! We are here in scenic Columbus, Ohio, and what a night we’ve had so far! We’ve seen several great matches, PLUS the wedding of Ash Ketchum and Misty! And for all you Poke Freaks out there, the fun is not over yet, as we have one hell of a match coming up next!

 

Riley: W-w-w-w-w-wheel s-s-s-says th-th-that ma-match i-i-i-i-i-s-s-s...

 

Stevens: It’s Frost versus Ash Ketchum! Hardcore Title on the line in a truly unique match! It’s a first in the SWF! The match? STASH... THE... ASH! Bobby, rules please?

 

Riley: Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..

 

Riley: Thanks. Don’t ever do that again, though. Now OK, the rules. Ash Ketchum gets thrown in a coffin and dropped in the Scioto River-

 

Stevens: Bobby, that’s not right. Just read the damn desctiption.

 

Riley: Oh... you want the description. Fiiiine.

 

Riley clears his throat and begins to read from the offical SWF statement concerning the match’s rules:

 

Riley: “After Ash Ketchum gets married at the ppv, fighting Frost is the last thing he would want to do. He’d probably rather just go on his honeymoon. Well maybe he can do both. Ash’s plane for his honeymoon leaves approximately 30 minutes after the bell rings to start the match. If Ash is on the plane when it takes off, he wins, if Frost can detain him from catching the flight, Frost retains. The airport is approximately 10 minutes away by car, 20 on foot. Everything goes.”

 

Stevens: Sounds fun.

 

Riley: I’d rather be stuck in a room filled with cats in heat than watch this match.

 

Stevens: Why?

 

Riley: Because... ummm... uhh...

 

Stevens: Is there a reason why, Bobby? Like maybe you’d wanna-

 

Riley(frantically): LOOK! Funyon’s ready, Mark! Let’s send it off to him before we miss his announcements!

 

Suddenly, “Frost Wants to Kill your Mamma" by Dweezil Zappa kicks up, and the crowd reverts into booing mode as the song moves along. At some point, Frost appears from backstage, Hardcore Title around his waist. He has a slow purposeful stride to the ring and he periodically raises one arm, fist clenched, to the crowd. He has no fancy pyro or lighting effects. He’s a man who likes to get down to business. He now comes down to the ring smoking a cigar. A Santa Clara 1830, courtesy of GOdrea from the last border run. She’s so great. As Frost strolls down to the ring, he notices a small child with a Pikachu balloon. He steps up to the kid, who begins to become fearful, and removing the cigar from his mouth, touches the balloon with it. “POP!” goes the balloon, and the little kid bursts into tears as Frost smirks and laughs softly to himself. He continues to stroll down to the ring, having put his cigar out on the balloon, but he grinds it into the ringside barrier just to make sure and so he looks tough.

 

Funyon: The following is a Stash The Ash match, and it is for the SWF HARDDDDCORE CHAMPIONSHIP!! Introducing first, from Reykjavik, Iceland, weighing in at 296 pounds, he is a member of THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN AND THE SWF HARDDDDCORE CHAMPION... FROOOOOOOOOOOST!!!

 

Stevens: And on a small sidenote, ladies and gentlemen, tonight, for this match, we will be debuting a new “wireless” camera, so that we may bring you up-to-date action from wherever this match takes us!

 

He walks across, up the stairs, and finally steps foot inside the ring. He turns around and smiles sadistically, throwing his cigar into the crowd. An appreciative fan throws it back, hitting him square in the back of the head. Frost just laughs.

 

Stevens: Frost has been invincible since ripping the title from the clutches of Ced Ordonez after Genesis III.

 

Riley: True dat.

 

Stevens: But he must take into account Ash Ketchum’s 2 previous Hardcore Title reigns!

 

Riley: Are you kidding? Who has the advantage here? Ash has to fight Frost and rush-hour traffic!

 

Stevens: Bobby, it’s almost 9:30 PM... Rush hour was over nearly two and a half hours ago.

 

Riley: In your world it is...

 

And with that, we switch cameras to Gate C7 at Port Columbus International Airport. Sitting there next to some suitcases is none other than Misty, and she watches with great anticipation on a TV the match that is about to take place.

 

Stevens: And there, of course, is where Ash Ketchum MUST be at the end of 30 minutes time, or else he loses his chance at a 3rd Hardcore Championship and history!

 

Riley: How come the bitch gets her own TV? It’s not fair!

 

Switch to another camera, this one inside the Magnificent Seven Locker Room. Every single member that can be there is there right now, including ICTV Champion Tom Flesher, who seems to be the only one watching with real great interest.

 

Stevens: Looks like Frost’s running buddies have tuned in for this match as well...

 

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? Will it ever change?

 

Stevens: Well, as of what I’ve heard, there may be some changes for the good ol’ Undercard King pretty soon!

 

Riley: Thank god.

 

Stevens: Not the least to mention the fact he is now married and expecting a kid!

 

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 Frost, who keeps an expressionless 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, he is a member of X FOOOOOORCE NINE... 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 Frost, who is big, powerful, and scares small children.

 

Stevens: This is the biggest challenge of the newlywed wrestler’s life! A match in which there is only one way to win, and that is to go through 296 pounds of ruthless Icelandic Monster.

 

We cut to another room, where the parents of the newlyweds sit, as well as X Force Nine and El Luchador Magnifico. Of all of them, Ash’s father, former AWA Tag Team Champion and WWF World Champion Ken Craven, and Longdogger Pete look to be the most concerned of the bunch.

 

Riley: I’m picking Frost to win. I guess you are, too.

 

Stevens: Maybe. This man just got married, and he’s probably got other things on his mind right now.

 

The two men move toward each other, referee in the middle. Frost 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, which is follwed by...

 

“DING DING DING!” The two men stand toe to toe for a second, the crowd alive early on as a small clock appears at the bottom left corner of the screen and begins to countdown from 30:00...

 

Crowd: KET-CHUM! KET-CHUM!

 

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

 

Ash Ketchum and Frost back up for a sec, but sh draws his arm back and begins to swing it forward, looking like he’ll punch Frost. Ketchum, though, pulls his arm back as Frost blinks and flinches. Ketchum takes the opportunity to flat out RUN, dropping down and sliding head-first under the ropes, but before he can get to them, Frost grabs Ash by the feet, and with a mighty tug, the 258 pound Undercard King is dragged back into the center of the ring.

 

Stevens: Ash Ketchum went for the exit, but Frost got him before he could get away!

 

As Ash is pulled to his feet, his head is clutched, and quickly, a fist slammed into his forehead with an overhead punch. Ketchum stutter-steps and drops to the mat like a ton of bricks, but get rights back up, right into another overhead punch. Ash drops to the mat again, a bit slower to get up this time as Frost draws his arm back and swings it from the side into Ash’s chest with a gigantic-

 

Crowd: Wooo!

 

Stevens: Huge chop to Ash Ketchum’s chest! Ketchum’s ribs are awfully hurting after being torn apart by Mak Francis, TNT, and Mercury on separate occasions!

 

Riley: Bah. Suck it up, weakling!

 

Ketchum staggers backwards, nearly falling over, grabbing his chest and crying in pain, eyes clamped shut. As Ash staggers back, Frost grabs him, whipping him to the ropes. Ash bounces hard off of them and flies back at Frost. Frost’s arm extends outward and connects with Ash’s chin, dropping him to the mat with a quick clothesline!

 

29:24 TO GO

 

Stevens: No pinfalls, submissions, count-outs in this one! Ash Ketchum must get to that airplane! That’s the only way he can win!

 

Ash Ketchum flops against the mat, but bounces back up like a rubber ball, shaking his head for a second, but as quickly as he is to get back up, Frost has him in his clutches again, stepping back before he charges at Ash. He slaps his right forearm as he brings it up, smashing it promptly into Ash Ketchum’s head while he tries to get up. Ketchum drops to the mat as Frost stalls some more, grabbing Ketchum by the head and whipping him into the corner. Ketchum slams back first into the corner, letting out a cry of pain as he staggers out of the corner. Frost quickly closes in on his prey, Ketchum bent over and grabbing his ribs. Swiftly, Frost locks his arm around Ash’s head, lifts him up slightly, and drops back, slamming Ketchum head-first into the mat with an inverted DDT!

 

Stevens: Big inverted DDT from Frost! Ash Ketchum is down!

 

Ash’s head bounces off the mat and he flips onto his back, landing there with a small thump. As Frost gets to his feet, he pumps his fist into the air, screaming at the fans that Ash isn’t going anywhere.

 

Stevens: Enough with the stall tactics, dammit!

 

Riley: Stall tactics? I think not, Mr. Stevens! Frost is just delivering an ass-whoopin’ to Ash Ketchum!

 

28:57 TO GO

 

Frost grabs hold of Ash Ketchum, pulling him to his feet. He then lifts him up for what looks like a belly-to-belly suplex. But instead, Frost locks in a waistlock and squeezes into a Brock Lesnar-strength bearhug on Ash! Ash begins to scream in pain as Frost attempts to destroy Ash’s ribs, squeezing harder, and harder, and harder! Ketchum tries to fight it, but as he fights it, the pressure begins to increase more and more, causing him to scream louder and louder.

 

Riley: YEAH! Woohoo! What a move! YEAH!

 

Stevens: DEAR GOD, WHAT A MOVE! ASH IS IN THAT DEVASTATING, DESTRUCTIVE BEARHUG! FROST HAS ASH RIGHT WHERE HE WANTS HIM!

 

Frost continues to apply pressure, squeezing harder and harder as Ash Ketchum cries out in pain, screaming for his life, but suddenly, Ash’s eyes open up, and he claps his hands over Frost’s ears, using a bell clap maneuver to break free of the bearhug. Frost staggers back as he releases Ash, who drops to his feet, injured ribs and all, and immediately runs for the ropes, bounding off of them. Off the rebound, he leaps into the air, grabbing Frost around the head as he turns around, and then sharply dropping back, Ash pulls Frost down at almost a 90 degree angle, slamming him into the mat with a sickening-looking DDT! A quick shot to the M7 locker room shows a little bit of disgust with the match so far as they cheer Frost on.

 

Stevens: Running DDT from Ash Ketchum! Frost hits the mat hard, and it looks like he’s rolling out of the ring, but Ash is back on his feet and taking off for the opposite ropes! What’s gonna happen next?!?!?!

 

Riley: Don’t trip and tear your quad!

 

Outside the ring, Frost get to his feet, grabbing his head and turning around as the crowd cheers to see what’s going on. But as he does, he sees something he thought he’d never see Ash leaping over the third rope as he turns his body sideways into a flying cross body aimed at Frost! Ketchum flies through the air and collides with the Icelandic Beast outside the ring! The two men collapse on the outside in a total mess, Ash landing on top of Frost as Frost bangs his back into the steel rail surrounding the ring and lets out a cry of pain. We’re not done, though, as Frost and Ash flip over the barrier and land in the crowd, nearly squashing a few fans in the process!

 

Stevens: WOW! What a cross-body from Ash Ketchum! Both men into the crowd!

 

Riley: Impressive...

 

27:42 TO GO

 

The two men slowly begin to get to their feet outside the ring. But before Frost can get anything going, Ash hooks his arm and falls to the ground, rolling as he flips Frost into the air with a weak looking arm drag! Frost’s back smashes against a vacated steel chair as he is thrown into it with a “THUD!”, and he cries out as he slowly begins to get up, grabbing his back. As Frost gets to his feet, though, Ash charges at him. Ash’s arm extends outward and connects with Frost’s chin, dropping him to the ground with a quick clothesline! As soon as Ash stops, though, Frost sits back up a la Kane and immediately gets onto his feet. As he gets up, he quickly grabs an unsuspecting Ash, bending him over. While Frost hops to his feet, he swings his knee up, smashing it into Ash’s chest with a knee! Frost releases Ash who, staggers back, grabbing his sore ribs, but as Frost gets to his feet, Ash charges at Frost with fury. Frost quickly bends over, catching Ash, and standing straight up, he flips Ash into the air. Ketchum’s limbs flail about in mid-air as he is flipped and lands hard on the concrete, crashing into two event secuirty people as the result of a big back body drop! All three men fall to the ground in a muttled mess of Poke Freak and yellow security jacket.

 

Stevens: WHOA! What a move from Frost! Not enough to keep Ash down, though, as he’s coming right back up!

 

Ketchum begins to get up, a little dazed. Quickly, Frost makes his move, grabbing Ash’s tights. Frost 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 ground and he cries out in pain a little bit, but in a matter of seconds, both men are back up onto their feet.

 

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

 

As Ash gets to his feet, Frost whips Ash into the crowd, but Ketchum changes direction, instead whipping himself towards the nearest exit. He runs for the stairs and begins to climb them as Frost realizes his error. He takes off in pursuit after Ash as he runs up the stairs, nearly reaching the top. Frost suddenly reaches an arm out to grab Ash, but Ash grabs it and uses it to whip Frost up the steps. Frost stumbles and nearly trips as he hits the top step, staggering forward a few inches. Ketchum jumps over the top step, and charges after Frost, shuffling his feet while Frost turns around. The Frozen One catches a good enough glimpse of what is headed, and using the little agility he has, ducks an attempted superkick from Ash, the kick instead hitting a poor usher standing behind Frost. The old usher falls to the ground grabbing his head in pain, and Ash decides that he has the time to help the poor old guy up. Meanwhile, as Ash is distracted by the usher, Frost decides to go off to get himself a hot dog. Hopefully this time, they won’t screw his order up and he won’t have to burn their building down.

 

Riley: Well, looks like it’s time for a break here... now, where’s that popcorn vendor?

 

As Frost round the corner and heads for the hotdog stand, Ash, after helping the ppor old usher up, comes charging into the exploding with a burst of speed. Sprinting at Frost, forearm extended, Ash proceeds to nail him with a quick forearm smash! Frost hits the ground hard, hopping back onto his feet slowly, just in time for Ash to deliver a quick hook into Frost’s face, sending him staggering back a few inches. As Frost begins to stagger back, Ash grabs him, whipping him quickly towards the glass doors that are Nationwide Arena’s main entrance. The 296- pound monster flies out of control, slamming into one of the glass doors at the entrance of Nationwide Arena and-“CRASH!”-flying through it! Glass shards fly everywhere as Frost slams into the ground, slow to get up.

 

Riley: Dammit, Frost went through that glass door! But this proves something: no glass fixture, be it door or floor or ceiling, can hold Frost down!

 

Grabbing his back in pain, the iron-tough European Behemoth gets to his feet and steps through where the door used to be, just in time to see Ash Ketchum charging full speed at him. Frost slowly leans down just enough, arms outstretched as he scoops Ash up. Quickly, he spins and falls, slamming Ash into the ground and-“CRASH!”- thorugh another glass door with a huge Irish whip powerslam! Ash screams in pain, cluthcing his back in severe pain as he cries out in agony.

 

Riley: Oooooooh! That looked painful, but a beautiful powerslam, compliments of everyone’s favorite Icelandic Beast, Frost! And as they say in Iceland: “C’est magnifique!”

 

Stevens: Ummm... “C’est magnifique?” That’s French, dumbass.

 

Riley: Iceland... France... it’s all in the same area.

 

25:03 TO GO

 

Frost slowly gets to his feet, pushing himself up off the glass-covered ground. He shakes his head, brushes himself off, and moves towards Ash’s legs, grabbing hold of them. He places his own in between, readying to cross Ash’s legs over it and rolls Ash onto his back into a mind-numbing sharpshooter! But While Frost attempts to lock Ash’s legs into the hold, Ash pulls a foot from Frost’s grasp and quickly throws it into his face. Frost is stunned for a second as Ash tries to break his right leg free, but he can’t, getting to his feet, hopping on one leg. Frost holds him there for a second, but before he can react, Ash Ketchum jumps off the leg he hops on, flipping in the air and bringing his foot up under the chin of Frost, executing a beautiful frontflip enziguri that sends Frost tumbling back and flips Ash in the air! Cut to the XF9 locker room, where everyone is cheering Ash Ketchum on, hoping he can pull this one off.

 

Stevens: Frost on the ground as Ash lands on his feet after a perfectly executed frontflip enziguri!

 

Riley: Do you really expect Ash to win this one, Stevens? Do you really think he can stop a monster like Frost?

 

Stevens: Not exactly...

 

Ketchum lands on his feet, staggering backwards for a second and nearly falling over as he tries to regain his balance. He breathes heavily, clutching his back as he staggers off camera for a second. The cameraman attempts to follow Ash Ketchum, but as he turns his camera, he cannot find Ash or Frost!

 

Riley: Oh, nice job, dumbass.

 

We switch cameras, and once more, we pick up Ash Ketchum’s limo this time, waiting for him outside the arena. The camera quickly swings up to catch Ash Ketchum grabbing the door handle and throwing the door open, screaming at the chauffer to take off once he is in inside. Ketchum’s back is cut open and bleeding just a tad, but he’s OK. He sits back in the limo, a small camera placed inside showing him relaxing as the limo wheels off down Brodbelt Lane, headed for Neil Avenue.

 

23:23 TO GO

 

Stevens: Ketchum’s getting away, and Frost is nowhere to be seen! Ash Ketchum may have just won this match!

 

Riley: That was pathetically short! BOOOOOOOOO!!!!

 

But as Ash relaxes back in the seat, he hears a voice...

 

Voice: Hello, Clarice...

 

And his eyes open wide. He slowly turns his head to the left to see what the noise came from, and several shrieks from the audience are heard over the background as Frost sits there, grinning happily and chuckling in the seat next to Ash Ketchum.

 

Frost: BOO!

 

Ketchum screams as Frost reaches out to grab him, but he flings the door of the limo open. The limo screeches to a halt as the driver sees the door fly open, allowing Ash to escape the limo. Unfortunately, he happens to trip over the bottom of the door frame and falls to the concrete, smacking his head upon it with a rather large thud!

 

Stevens: Shit! That scared me!

 

Riley: Frost was two steps ahead of Ash, and he made Ketchum pay for it!

 

At the airport, Misty watches on with concern as Frost quickly steps out of the limo on the same door Ash Ketchum was, grabbing Ketchum and hoisiting him to his feet. Quickly, he grabs the sweaty Ash, lifting him into the air over his head with a body press. He holds Ash there for a second before he lets Ash go, simply releasing him. Ketchum falls backwards, his ribs smashing into the door that he opened! Ketchum hits the door with a huge thud, denting the door itself before he screams out in pain, clutching his ribs. He grabs his hurting ribs and rolls in pain, a bit of blood dripping from his lips.

 

Stevens: OH MY GOD! I THINK I JUST HEARD RIBS BREAK!

 

22:06 TO GO

 

Riley: Good! I hope they did. Maybe this’ll make the match over sooner.

 

Ash rolls on the ground, grabbing his ribs for quite a while before Frost grabs him and snaps him up onto his feet. With Ketchum still out of it, The Frozen One stalls for more time as he nails Ash with-

 

Riley: OH! BUT WHAT A SPINNING BACK FIST FROM FROST! LOOK AT THE SPIN! THE POWER! ASH NEVER SAW IT COMING!

 

The crowd begins to boo a bit as Ash falls sharply to the mat while Frost stops spinning. Frost is even grinning as he waits for Ash to get up, Ketchum rising to his feet. Quickly, Frost grabs Ash’s head with one hand, and drawing his other hand back, unloads three slow, but powerful overhand punches to the forehead of Ash. Ash cries out with each blow, but Frost is far from finished, as he grabs hold of Ash’s arm and attempts to whip him, but Ash counters as he draws his arm back and lands one palm strike square into Frost’s chest. The Frozen One cries out in pain as another and another and another palm strike go into his chest, but Ketchum responds, clenching his fist and diriving it under his chin with a strong rising uppercut! Frost falters back as Ash pitches his arm out, clapsing Frost’s arm and whipping him towards a dumpster. Frost is sent flying until he-“THUD!”-slams into the dumpster with such force he knocks the top doors of the dumpster open and some trash spills onto him!

 

Stevens: How ironic! A piece of trash like Frost gets covered with, well, trash!

 

Riley: That’s not funny.

 

As banana peels, 3-day old hot dogs and sticky soda pop spill over Frost, he begins to freak out, trying to wipe them off of him. Ketchum, grabbing his ribs in a bit of pain, takes off, headed into the Arena West-South Lot of Nationwide Arena!

 

Stevens: And Ketchum gets away yet AGAIN!

 

Riley: Frost just can’t keep his hands on him, can he?

 

Meanwhile, at the same parking lot, a cameraman sits in a running car, driver’s side door opened as Neilsen explains something to him:

 

Neilsen: Now fuckin’ listen, fucker. When that fuckhole Bobby Riley fuckin’ finishes his fuckin’ job tonight, you fuckin’ begin shooting for the motherfucking video that that fuckin’ shithead has to fuckin’ make. You fuckin’ understand, motherfucker?

 

Gus: Yes sir!

 

Neilsen: Good, motherfucker. You’d better fucking stay here, fucker, or I’ll fuckin’ come back and fuckin’ rip your fuckin’ balls off, bitchfucker.

 

Neilsen smirks, but suddnely, someone grabs him and throws him out of the door. Neilsen lands on the ground and he is unable to get any info on his attacker as he recovers from the sudden shock.

 

Neilsen: WHAT THE FUCK-

 

The tires squeal as the door slams shut in Neilsen’s face. The rental car speeds off out of the parking lot, Gus inside as the car turns east onto Nationwide Boulevard.

 

Riley: NO! COME BACK WITH MY RENTAL, YOU BASTARD!

 

Riley(with anger): HEY! THAT’S MY RENTAL CAR!

 

As the car speeds off, Frost comes huffing and puffing from off camera. He tries to get answers onto where his opponent is.

 

Frost: Where’d that asshole Ketchum go?

 

Neilsen: HE FUCKIN’ STOLE BOBBY’S FUCKIN’ CAR! FUCK!

 

Frost: Thanks.

 

Riley: THAT BITCH STOLE MY CAR!!!!

 

Frost: Dammit! How am I gonna find him now-

 

Frost quickly looks over to see a Columbus squad car, a Chevy Corvette, to be exact, still running, lights on. The car is indeed open as Frost runs over to it and swings the door open, nearly ripping it off in the process. He slams the door back shut and quickly, without care for anyone, speeds off, flipping the lights on the rack on and activating the siren as he charges off in pursuit of Ash.

 

Riley: I didn’t know they used Vettes as squad cars...

 

Stevens: This match has gotten out of control! Now there’s a car chase involved! Someone’s gotta put an end to this mayhem! Ash and Misty are supposed to be outta here by now!

 

21:19 TO GO

 

Meanwhile, as Frost speeds off in the cop car, the camera switches to Riley’s car, where a paniced Gus watches the crazy Ash speed down the street.

 

Gus: Where are we going?

 

Ash: Just shut up, you fat asshole.

 

Gus: I’m scared... *sniff*

 

Suddenly, Ash makes a hard left and Gus screams in terror.

 

Gus: AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!! I WANT MY MOMMY!!!!

 

The camera remains focused on the driver, Ash Ketchum. He has no cares right now. He just wants to get away from Frost. He looks up at the intersection as the signal changes colors.

 

Ash: Yellow light. Gun it.

 

The car speeds off through the intersection just millisecoonds before the light goes red. Cars honk their horns in anger at Ash, but he just keeps driving, speeding for almost another city block before making a hard right. The lights are killed as Ash Ketchum and Gus pull into an alley, hoping to hide from Frost.

 

Ash: Well, that was close.

 

Gus: So, what now?

 

Ash: We go find someone to drive us to the airport, stupid.

 

Gus: Oh. Why are we going there?

 

18:59 TO GO

 

Ash slaps his forehead in disgust as he unbuckles his seat belt, but as he does-

 

“BANG!” “CRASH!” Both men duck as the back window of Bobby Riley’s rental car shatters.

 

Gus: AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!

 

Riley(back in the arena): MY CAR!!! MY BEAUTIFUL CAR!!!

 

Ash: What the fuck?!?!?!

 

Gus: Who was that?

 

Gus turns his camera slowly around to reveal none other than Frost, kneeling on top of the hood, cradling a nice single-barrel police-issue shotgun. He snaps the gun down after having shot the window out, pissed that he missed his mark. Resting in his other hand is a nightstick, preferrably to beat the living hell out of Ash with!

 

Stevens: HOLY FUCKIN’ SHIT!!!!! HE’S TRYING TO KILL ASH KETCHUM ON THE HAPPIEST DAY OF HIS LIFE!!!

 

Crowd: HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!

 

Riley: Well, I guess Frost interpreted it as EVERYTHING goes!

 

The driver’s side door swings open and Ash Ketchum uses it as a shield to hide himself while he looks for a way out. At the airport, Misty screams initially in terror, but later, like in the M7 and XF9 locker rooms, there’s a general sense of shock that Frost tried to shoot Ash.

 

Ash: Dammit! I can’t believe I didn’t see him! I gotta get the fuck out of here!

 

18:01 TO GO

 

To be continued...

[Guest BA_Baracus]

Noticing a steel link fence, Ketchum runs towards it, Frost now chasing after him. Ketchum cluthces onto the fence, hopping onto it and slowly climbing.

 

Stevens: This is turning into an extreme version of Cops and Robbers!

 

Riley: What? Are you mad? It’s a hardcore match!!!!

 

As Ketchum reaches the top of the fence, Frost leaps up onto it and quickly begins to scale it, attempting to grab at Ash. Ketchum hops off the fence and lands on the ground running away before Frost can catch him, as Frost scales the fence only seconds after Ash does.

 

Riley: What is this, a marathon? A gauntlet of some sort?

 

Stevens: I dunno, but Ash Ketchum is running for his life from that monster, Frost! This match means so much to him! He cannot give in or give up!

 

Riley: Frost had better catch him, though.

 

As Ketchum dashes out of the alley and turns the corner, he sees his savior: a small moped rental place on the corner of Ninth and Broad Streets by the name of “Jamaican Joe’s Speedy Mopeds”. The proprietor of this shop is a Jamaican man in his mid-30s who resembles Booker T in his facial and physical appearance, but has sunglasses and a bushy full beard. There are several mopeds, and the keys hang ona wall next to the mopeds behind a glass case.

 

Jamaican Joe: How can I help ya, man?

 

Ketchum smashes the glass case and pulls out the keys to one of the mopeds. Quickly, he fires the thing up just as Frost, still wielding a night stick, charges after him. Ketchum squeals off, burning rubber as he charges away at 15 miles an hour on his moped!

 

Riley: Wow, Ash is gonna be in a lot of shit... assault, larceny, grand theft auto, carjacking, taking a hostage-

 

Stevens: But can’t they charge Frost with theft of police property?

 

Riley: Ummmmmm... I hope not.

 

As Ash speeds away, Frost reaches the stand, breathing heavily while Jamaican Joe exclaims:

 

Jamaican Joe: Hey! Come back! That cost you three dollar, man!

 

Frost moves to the side of the stand, grabbing a key as he, too, hops on a moped, starts it up, and speeds off in pursuit of Ash Ketchum, a deep scowl across his face as Jamaican Joe yells:

 

Jamaican Joe: Hey, man, you forgot ya helmet!

 

17:03 TO GO

 

Riley: Can this match get any shittier?

 

Stevens: I bet it could. We could have a necrophilia angle pop up.

 

Riley: True... at least we don’t do sick shit like that...

 

And so, the two speed off on their mopeds. Gus comes huffing and puffing around the corner, carrying his camera with him. As he looks for someway to catch up to them, he spots a yellow taxi headed down the street. He promptly waves it down and hops in, telling the cabbie to-

 

Gus: Follow those mopeds!

 

And so, the cab speeds off, and our camera changes to inside the cab looking out through a window. We get sight of Frost on his moped, and the cab passes it up to focus on Ash and his moped.

 

Stevens: Looks like it’s gonna be a long chase on the mopeds! Ash Ketchum, a man on a mission, and Frost, the man determined to stop him!

 

Riley: Boooooooring. This match is a DUD.

 

The mopeds put along, until...

 

“Puttputtputtputt...BOOM! BOOM! Puttputt... BOOM!”

 

And with that, Ash Ketchum’s moped begins to slow. The damn thing’s run out of gas, and he begins to roll to a stop, banging against the moped in an attempt to fix it, but it’s too late as he slows to a halt. Meanwhile, ELM sighs in the XF9 locker room. He was hoping there’d be more moped acton!

 

Gus: Stop the cab!

 

The cab screeches to a halt at the same time Ash’s momentum runs out on his moped. He has stopped in front of a bar called the “Brass Monkey”. Brass Monkey! *sax toot* That funky monkey! *sax toot* Aww, you n00bs probably wouldn’t get it anyways. Gus throws the door of the yellow cab open, but the cabbie interrupts Gus’ departure.

 

Cabbie: That’ll be $13.50, dude.

 

Gus growls as he searches through his pocket for the fare. Meanwhile, with the camera, we see something swing down on Ash’s head. Ash falls off his moped as Frost jumps off his, which nails Ash’s, and both go tumbling over in a huge mess. We see Frost lift the night stick up over the fallen Ash and repeatedly just begin to smash Ash Ketchum in the ribs with the police weapon like Rodney King getting his ass kicked by the LAPD.

 

15:00 TO GO

 

Stevens: We’re halfway there, and by God, do we have a lot of ground to cover!

 

Back at the airport, Misty looks awfully concerned and scared as the announcer comes over the airport PA.

 

Airport announcer: Flight 297 to Los Angeles now boarding at Gate C7...

 

Misty sighs as she watches her husband get the fuck beat out of him, their plane out West, the one before they fly off to Hawaii, begins to board, and her eyes begin to water. In the XF9 locker room, there’s concern on their faces, but in the M7 locker room, they are already starting to get ready for a Frost victory party.

 

Stevens: Misty must feel horrible right now. It’s her special night, and Ash Ketchum is not even here to go on the plane with her!

 

As Gus steps out of the cab, Frost picks Ash Ketchum up, and in one fluid heave, throws him through the Brass Monkey’s front door. The door flies open as Ketchum hits the ground, struggling to get up, excpet he keeps slipping and grabbing his ribs as he cries in pain and reaches the counter. Frost quickly begins to stomp at Ash’s ribs, injuring them further and further before he bends down, clasping Ash’s head and pulling him up. Frost grabs Ash by the head and draws his arm bac to deliver a big overhand to Ash’s head, but as Frost’s arm draws back, Ketchum reaches back, clutching a Heineken bottle, and as Frost’s arm swings forward, Ash swings the bottle around into Frost’s face! “CRUNCH!” The bottle shatters into Frost’s forehead and he staggers back, grabbing his now bleeding forehead and staggering backwards, bumping into a pool table.

 

Stevens: MY GAWD! THERE’S BLOOD BEING SHED EVERYWHERE! THIS IS INSANE! SOMEONE NEEDS TO STOP THIS NOW!!!

 

Riley: Actually, I’m quite enjoying the carnage being created by these two. Let it continue.

 

With Frost stunned, Ash Ketchum straightens himself up and slowly moves towards Frost, winding up and swinging for a huge right hook! But Frost ducks, grabbing Ash from behind. Quickly, he lifts him onto his shoulder before sharply falling back and dropping Ash on his head with a very steep high angle belly-to-back suplex! Ash’s head bounces like a dodgeball off the table, which doesn’t break, but Ash’s head nearly whips back as the crowd in the arena and at home watches on with concern.

 

Stevens: BAH GAWD! HE MAY HAVE BROKE ASH’S NECK WITH THAT BACK DROP ONTO THE POOL TABLE!!!

 

Finished with the beating he’s given Ash so far, but unsatisfied, Frost decides to quench his thirst for destruction, but not with a Pepsi Twist MAX, oh no. He moves towards a near-by table, grasping one of the fold-up steel chairs, and quickly, he folds it up, heading back towards Ash. He grabs the Poke Freak off the table and puls him onto his feet, backing up as he begins to lfit the chair over his head.

 

Stevens: OH NO! NOT THIS! COME ON! PLEASE! IT’S THIS MAN’S WEDDING NIGHT! PLEASE DON’T CRIPPLE HIM!!!!

 

Riley: Oh yes, please do.

 

As Frost swings the chair down, Ketchum throws his hands up, clutching the chair before Frost can smash it with his hand, and slowl, the two men begin to struggle for superiority over the chair, Frost slowly gaining on Ash. Suddenly, the crowd begins to cheer a little, and as if by magic, Ash Ketchum begins to fight back, pushing the chair back up towards Frost. The two men struggle for at least 20 seconds back and forth, neither man giving in.

 

Stevens: Ketchum refuses to give in to Frost!

 

But as soon as Mark says that, Frost lifts his leg into Ash’s chest, kicking his sore ribs. Ash cries out and releases the chair, but Frost swings it down, smashing the chair into Ash’s chair with a monstrous “CLANK!”

 

Riley: WOOOOO!!! GO, FROST!

 

Ketchum drops to the ground, screaming in pain as he coughs, gasping and coughing for some air. Frost lets og of the chair with one hand and grabs Ash with the other, slowly pulling him onto his feet.

 

Stevens: GOD, NOT AGAIN!!! SOMEONE, PLEASE STOP THIS... THIS... INHUMANE MANIAC!!!!

 

Riley: My, a bit harsh with the words, aren’t we, Stevens?

 

As soon as Frost pulls Ash onto his feet he backs up a few feet, pumping his fist into the air for a second or two before he swings it around, attempting a right hook, but Ash ducks, reversing and smashing Frost’s face with a hook of his own! Frost drops the chair and staggers back a few feet, but then, as he moves forward toward Ash again, Ketchum throws the chair at Frost. The Frozen One catches it just as Ash leaps into the air, extending both legs and planting them in the chair with a quick missile dropkick called the Rocket Launch! With an echoing ”CLANK!”, Frost drops the chair and falls to the ground, out cold for the time being.

 

Stevens: OH MY GOD! DID YOU HEAR THAT?!?! DID YOU HEAR THAT?!?!

 

Riley: Whoa, whoa... calm down. Don’t be orgasming over here just because Ash Ketchum is gaining an andvantage.

 

Stevens: BUT THERE’S ONLY THIRTEEN MINUTES LEFT!!!

 

Ketchum slowly pulls himself up, grabbing Frost’s dropped chair in the process. He staggers over towards the bar’s counter, resting on it for no more than a few seconds before he reaches over, pulling himself at first onto the counter. Then, planting his hands on the counter, he releases the chair for a second to slowly push himself up. He must be precise, though, as he does not want to fall pre-maturely before showing off a new move he’s just picked up.

 

Riley: What the fuck is he doing?!?!

 

As Ketchum stands on the counter of the bar, he delivers his signature slit-finger victory sign with one hand, then clutches the chair with both hands and flips backwards towards Frost, flying 270 degrees in the air before coming down hard on Frost with a huge moonsault, plus the steel chair!!!!

 

”CLANK!”

 

Both men go down as the crowd pops loudly inside the arena, not believing what they just saw!!! The XF9 locker room explodes in cheer as several congratulatory handskaes are given to the man who taught at the move: El Luchador Magnifico. CIA watches the screen still as Ash Ketchum grabs his ribs and collapses onto his chest as he grimaces in pain from the move. Frost does the exact same thing Ash does, but we can’t even tell who’s in more pain: Ash, or Frost.

 

Stevens: CHAIRSAULT!!! CHAIRSAULT BY ASH KETCHUM!!!! GOD DAMN!!! WHAT A MOVE!!!!

 

Riley: Wow... that WAS the shit!

 

Frost cries out in pain as Ash slowly staggers to his feet, grimacing in pain as he clenches his ribs and drops the chair. Sweaty and bloody, Ash Ketchum knows he must continue on for himself, for the Hardcore title, for his wife, and their unborn child. He proceeds to slowly pull Frost up, grabbing him around the head and nearly dropping him a few times. As Ash sets Frost up for a DDT with the headlock, the Icelandic Monster has other ideas, though. He stops the set-up with a quick elbow to Ash’s sore ribs, and as Ketchum releases a bent over Frost, The Frozen One grabs him around the waist, head under Ash’s left arm as he lifts Ash up into a northern lights suplex! Frost releases Ash in mid-suplex, throwing him across the bar and into a door.

 

Riley: Amazing counter from Frost! What a nothern lights suplex! WHAT A MAN!

 

THUD! Ash Ketchum screams in pain as his back hits the door and the door refuses to give in, only flying open instead.

 

Riley: And right through the door!

 

Ketchum flies through the door, into the restauruant next to the bar. Startled patrons jump up from their seats as several scatter, running away as fast as they can. Ketchum grabs his back and cries out in pain, but Frost does not care. He grabs Ash Ketchum, pulling him onto his feet, but Ash Ketchum counters, grabbing Frost’s shoulders and leaping onto them for a hurracanrana! Frost, though, counters, punching Ash in the ribs. Ash is stunned for a sec as Frost uncorks another punch to the gut that nearly causes Ash to fall off Frost’s shoulders, but Frost catches him before he falls. Grabbing Ash, Frost lifts him up over his shoulder so Ash is facing upwards. This is followed by Frost holding Ash in place and spinning around a few times, then he stops spinning around with Ash, dropping him back first into a table as he slams him down with a airplane spin slam! “CRUNCH!” goes the table as it splinters under the force of the move, slamming Ash through it and injuring him more.

 

Stevens: OOOOOOOHHHHH!!! OH MY GOD! WHAT A SLAM! ASH IS DOWN AND OUT! THIS MIGHT BE IT!

 

Riley: YES! HAHAHAHA! That’s my boy!

 

Stevens: FROST IS TOO MUCH FOR ASH! HE CAN’T WIN!

 

As Frost gets to his feet, he pumps his fist into the air for only a second before it comes back down, Frost jumping off the ground. The crowd in the arena boos loudly as the big man spins himself around, pulling his legs up into a sitting position before he comes down hard on Ash, practically crushing his chest with a monster spinning leg drop! Ash lets out a scream of pain as Frost lands on him, and maybe, nearly snaps every rib in his chest!

 

Stevens: DEAR GOD! FROST MAY HAVE CRUSHED ASH WITH THAT LEG DROP! HE’S DONE FOR!

 

Riley: Stick a fork in this match... it’s done!

 

Back at the airport, Misty watches on in fear as Frost showboats, scaring restaurant patrons. Frost decides, though, that the showboating must continue, and with a cocky smile on his face, Frost pulls Ash to his feet, grabbing Ash, and cluthcing his arm with great intensity, he whips Ash across the restaurant into a serving cart. Ash bumps a little against the cart, but he mainly goes down because he is starting to become exhausted.

 

Riley: Ladies and gentlemen, the master of the big boot!

 

As Ash gets onto his feet, Frost runs as fast as he can go, lifting a leg up and almost falling over, but he goes for a big boot! Ketchum, though, reacts quickly, grabbing a pie from on top of the serving cart as he gets up, and ducking the boot, smashes the pie into Frost’s face! Red stuff oozes from the face of the Frozen One, but it’s not blood. A different kind of crimson mask appears. One filled with cherries and pie crust.

 

Stevens: And a pie to the face of Frost! He’s been stunned by that development!

 

Frost staggers backwards towards a window as Ash Ketchum maneuvers around to the cart’s handle. Grasping it, he begins to push it, letting out a scream of triumph as he wheels it towards Frost, but Frost recovers quickly. As Ash charges at Frost, Frost lifts a leg up, nailing a running Ash in the head with a big boot! Ketchum drops to the mat like a sack of bricks as Frost grabs Ash and pulls him to his feet.

 

Stevens: WHAT A MONSTROUS BOOT! ASH KETCHUM IS OUT COLD!

 

Riley: Mastah of the big boot comin’ thorugh for the man!

 

Stevens: What the hell did you mean by that?

 

Riley: Nothing really. Just sayin’ Frost had a nice BUTT, I mean, boot.

 

The M7 locker room explodes in cheer as Frost leaves Ketchum to himself by the window, pulling Ketchum up onto his feet before he backs off. He leaves a sizeable amount of space in between him and Ash. Slapping his bicep, he signals that he’s going to nail some sort of arm move, most likely, his biggest clothesline, the Hell Freezes Over. As fast as he can, Frost charges at Ash, screaming loudly as he attempts the Hell Freezes Over, but Ash counters, waistlocking the charging Frost and quickly bending back, lifting him over his head and releasing him into a belly-to-belly suplex! Frost flies through the air “SMASH!”-flies through the window, shattering it before-”CRUNCH!” -he slams thorugh a cafe table and hits the concrete below! Frost remains down, lying in a mess of wood and glass in pain as Ash Ketchum slowly pushes himself onto his feet, falling to his knees before he finally gets up.

 

Stevens: JESUS CHRIST ALMIGHTY! FROST JUST GOT THROWN THROUGH THAT WINDOW! AND THERE’S ONLY 11 MINUTES TO GO!!!

 

Riley: I can’t believe you! You are more concerned with how much time is left than Frost’s condition! How selfish! Suicide King would not approve of this...

 

Stevens: What’s the deal with King, Bobby? Are you his gay partner or something?

 

Riley: Suicide King is my personal Jesus. ‘Nuff said.

 

The M7 locker room is in shock, crying out “NO!!” as Misty, the fans, and the XF9 locker room cheer at the sight of Frost flying through the window. Meanwhile, as Ash exits the restaurant, a COTA bus pulls down the street with the bus sign readng “# 63/AIRPORT-BROAD ST”. By some twist of fate, this bus leads to the airport, and this restaurant is a major bus stop for this route! Ketchum staggers forward as the bus begins to slow down, seeing that several other people are waiting for the bus. Those people begins to get up, but Ash Ketchum shoves through them, bloody and bruised. But finally, he gets onto the bus and takes a seat up front. He doesn’t care where he sits. He’s got a ticket to the airport, and Frost can’t even catch him. As he tries to relax and catch a breather, the bus shuts its doors, but as they do, an arm flies in between them and gets caught.

 

Stevens: Ash is finally on his way to victory-what the hell?

 

Riley: Wait, that’s-

 

Voice: AAAAAAHHHH!!!! FUCK!

 

Hearing the cry of pain, the bus driver opens the door, and as he does, a very angry and bleeding Frost jumps on board the bus. Ash Ketchum, seeing the monster, trembles in fear as he leaps out of his seat and attempts to escape, but the bus doors shut as the driver takes off in fear, trapping Ash on the bus with an angry Frost!

 

Stevens: This cannot be good for Ash Ketchum! He’s trapped on the bus with a psycho!

 

Riley: Now hold on a second there, Mr Illogical. Let’s see how this little set-up plays out..

 

Ash tries to scramble out of the way, but Frost grabs Ash Ketchum as the bus speeds away, forcing him down and slmaming his head against the seat. Frost pulls Ash up, only to slam his head down again and again and again! Ketchum cries out in pain, but as Frost pulls him up for another face slam, Ash grabs the back of Frost’s head and pushes, forcing his head around and forward into-“CLANK!”-a metal pole on the bus used for standing passengers. Ash now pulls Frost’s head back and once more-“CLANK!”-begins to-“CLANK!”-pound Frost’s head-“CLANK!”-into that pole-“CLANK!”-again-“CLANK!”-and again-“CLANK!”-and again-“CLANK!”-and again, Ash screaming out in anger with each slam into the pole! Frost begins to look groggier each time his head is slammed into the pole, but as Ash attempts to slam him into the pole again, Frost slips his head from Ash’s grasp, grabbing Ash’s head and quickly, he pushes it forward, slamming it into the camera Gus holds!

 

Riley: Frost is going to work on Ash Ketchum with that camera! He sure knows how to work his hardcore abilities! Destroying Ash with the camera! Why didn’t he think of it sooner?

 

Stevens: Frost has Ash right where he wants him! And there’s just over NINE MINUTES left to go!

 

Riley: Ash Ketchum is now offically on the Express Bus to Hell!

 

Gus and Ash both go down, the bloody Ketchum falling backwards and grabbing his head in pain, but Frost is far from finished. Bending over, he grasps the camera and pulls it up. We can see him position it above Ash Ketchum’s body. The crowd is in shock right now and booing loudly as Frost lifts the camera up before it is slammed down on Ash with a huge THUD! As Frost hits Ash with the camera, we lose picture but retain audio. For a few more seconds, we hear the laments and screams of Ash Ketchum, then another THUD!, and it all goes silent.

 

Stevens: We’ve lost our picture AND our audio! I do not believe it!

 

At the airport, Misty is stunned by this loss of picture and sound, as now, she sits on the airplane watching. She is almost in tears at this point on the plane as she watches in silence, sitting next to her being none other than Mr. Nagasaki.

 

Misty: No... it can’t be...

 

Nagasaki: Misty-chan, it be OK. I train Ash well for this match.

 

Misty(sobbing): But you couldn’t have expected this...

 

Nagasaki: No, Misty-chan. I think no one expect this to happen to him...

 

In the M7 Locker Room, there are several very angry wrestlers all whining about where the pictures and sound of Frost destroying Ash Ketchum are. In the XF9 Locker Room, everyone is silent. Several people’s heads are bowed down, as they have feared the worst has happened. CIA sits there, confused as all hell, and even Xero looks a bit saddened, weird as that may seen, maybe concerned for the well being of his tag team partner.

 

Stevens: This match has been nothing short of phenomenal, but we seen to have lost our ability to bring you it any further. Any thoughts on this, Bobby?

 

Riley: Well, this sucks for Ash, because he is going to run out of time, is he not?

 

Stevens: I believe so, Bobby. I believe so...

 

As their commentary winds down, another camera somewhere else picks up the bus, which is now slowing down in front of a building. The bus stops and the doors open as everyone, including the bus driver, run from the bus as fast as they can. The shot remains still for almost thirty second before someone stumbles off the bus, grasping his bleeding forehead as blood drips from his lips slightly. Somehow, as the figure staggers in front of the bus and towards the doors in front of the camera, his features become revealed, and that figure is revealed to be... Ash Ketchum? How in the fuckin’ hell did he escape Frost’s beatdown?

 

Stevens: HOW THE HELL DID HE DO THAT?

 

Riley: Must’ve happened when we lost reception...

 

Stevens: HE’S STAGGERING TO THE DOORS, BY GAWD! HE’S GOT HOLD OF THE HANDLE AND IS PUSHING IT FORWARD! AMAZING! IT’S SIMPLY STUNNING AND AMAZING THAT ASH SOMEHOW SURVIVED THAT ASSAULT!!

 

Riley: How... how... how... how’d he get away from Frost?!?!

 

And with that, the door of the building is pushed open, revealing a gigantic lobby, ticket counters, and not a lot of people. Port Columbus International Airport, it is. Ash is now only less than a half-mile away from his 3rd SWF Hardcore Championship!

 

Stevens: BOTH MEN AT THE AIRPORT, BUT THERE’S LESS THAN SIX MINUTES TO GO!! Can Frost get off the bus and catch Ash before it’s too late?

 

Suddenly, the front doors of the bus are forced open quickly and we get our answer.

 

Riley: Frost is alive, baby! And he’s comin’ after Ash!

 

Ketchum, noticing that he didn’t quite stop Frost on the bus, begins to stagger towards security. He notices that one metal detector has been opened especially for him and Frost’s use. Nice of Stubby to think ahead and call the airport when the match started. He quickly steps through the metal detector. No buzzers sound for him, and security waves him through quickly. Turns out the head of security chief is a huge SWF fan, namely for Suicide King, and he was more than happy to help Stubby out in exchange for a meeting with King.

 

Stevens: Its gonna be close!

 

Riley: WHERE ARE YOU, FROST?!?!?! HURRY UP, DAMMIT!

 

Ash Ketchum smiles as he steps past security. He knows where to go. His flight is at Gate C7. A left, right, and a quick left are all that separate him from glory. No more than three minutes to get to his gate. He smiles and begins to head to the left, pumping his fists in the air in triumph, but as he does, we can hear footsteps coming from the background, BIG footsteps. Someone is chasing Ash, but he can’t get away fast enough as Frost charges in from behind him, slamming into him with not a clothesline, but a running elbow smash into Ash’s back. Ketchum screams in pain as several people scatter in fear, both Ketchum and Frost collapsing to the tiled floor of Port Columbus International Airport.

 

Stevens: FIVE MINUTES, FIFTEEN SECONDS LEFT!!!

 

Riley: This is a hell of a lot better than I expected, and many congratulations to Ash Ketchum for holding out this long. Alas, his time is up, and Frost will now proceed to destroy him.

 

Ketchum is the first to his feet, struggling and nearly falling over, blood, sweat, and literally tears running off of his face. Frost, too begins to get up, but before he does, Ash Ketchum decides to just lay it all out on the line here. He slowly pushes himself onto his feet for one final time and begins to run off, using every last bit of energy in his body to take off towards the moving walkways. He then uses them to gain precious time and distance as he knocks business travelers out of his way left and right, sending papers and documents flying in every which way. As he makes a sharp left towards his gate, he has no care for anything else, taking out a magazine rack at the newsstand while he rounds the corner headed for home.

 

Stevens: JUST UNDER FIVE MINUTES TO GO! IT’S SO TENSE!

 

Riley: C’mon Frost! Pick your scrawny ass up off the ground!

 

At about this time, Frost sees Ash take off, and mutters to himself:

 

Frost: Oh no... you don’t...

 

Frost then begins pursuit after Ash as a wild chase ensues through the airport. Frost intially takes one of the walkways, but it is going in the opposite direction he wants to go. Noticing the dificulty he is having in pursuing Ash, Frost grabs hold of the rail and leaping from one moving walkway to the other. In the process, he takes out a businessman headed to Chicago, spilling his Starbucks coffee all over the place. What a mess. Gus and the camera attempt to keep up, but the big fat man isn’t fast enough. The last thing we see is Frost trip over the magazine stand Ash knocked over at the newsstand, but hop right back onto his feet seconds later.

 

Stevens: THREE MINUTES, FORTY-FIVE SECONDS LEFT! HE’S ALMOST THERE!

 

The camera switches focus to Gate C7, where they are boarding the last few people onto the plane. Suddenly, the camera swings over to a shot of the concourse entrance, and we see none other than Ash Ketchum charging down the hall towards the gate, boarding pass in hand. He’s breathing extremely hard, but he’s there. He makes his way towards the gate slowly, smiling happily. He’s got it in the bag.

 

Stevens: HE’S DONE IT! HE’S DONE IT! And with nearly three and a half minutes to spare!

 

Riley: Wow, what a shit ending. You would’ve thought Frost had caught him by now...

 

But as Ash prepares to get on the plane...

 

Stewardess: LOOK OUT!

 

The stewardesses let out screams of terror as Ash turns around, right into Frost’s extended arm. Frost was right behid Ash and he didn’t notice it, but now he’s gonna pay. Frost connects with Ash’s head, nearly taking it off as Ash flips in the air, his fist accidentally slamming into Frost’s face, causing Frost to stagger back in pain and drop to his knees as Ash flips around 450 degrees and slams onto his back, as a result of the best damn clothesline I’ve ever seen!

 

Stevens: HELL FREEZES OVER ON KETCHUM! GOD DAMN, HE’S GOTTA BE OUT OF IT!

 

Riley: YES! YES! I KNEW HE’D PULL THROUGH!

 

Frost drops to his knees as Ash lands on his back, lying immobile on the carpet of Gate C7. The Frozen One takes a quick breather before he pushes himself up off of his knees, stepping over Ash Ketchum and grabbing him by the head and pantwaist.

 

Stevens: Two minutes, forty-five seconds to go, but what’s Frost gonna do here?

 

Frost lifts Ash Ketchum up onto his feet with 2:35 to go, and for a few seconds, he pauses, but then, he begins to let out what is a large cry as he takes off towards the window, carrying Ash with him. This no longer seems to be a match, but rather, an inhumane beatodwn. As it looks like Frost is about to fly through the window with Ash, he releases. Ketchum flies forward and flips in the air, his back slamming-

 

”CRASH!”

 

Into the window. However, the window does NOT shatter upon impact, but cracks instead! Ketchum screams out in pain, clutching his back and nearly going into convulsions. Not exactly what Frost was expecting to happen, but he’ll take it anyways. He’s so close to winning, he can taste it, and all it’ll take is one more throw to bust that window out anyways and seal the victory. 2 minutes to go.

 

Stevens: DEAR GOD! RIGHT AT THE TWO-MINUTE WARNING!

 

Riley: YES! LISTEN TO THAT SOUND OF GLASS CRACKING!

 

Stevens: BY GOD! HE’S TRYING TO KILL ASH! HE’S NOT GOING TO LET ASH WALK AWAY FROM THIS MATCH ALIVE!

 

Frost slowly moves towards the Undercard King, once more grabbing Ash in a similar manner. Now it is time to finish the job. He grins happily as he backs up with the groggy Ash, Ketchum looking to be headed for a ride through the glass window and a drop of about 20 feet to the concrete runway below!

 

Stevens: HE’S GONNA DO IT AGAIN!

 

Riley: Go for it, dude! BREAK HIM!

 

Stevens: NO, FROST! PLEASE DON’T DO IT! IT’S NOT WORTH IT! IT’S NOT WORTH IT!!!

 

As Frost attempts to slam Ash into the window once more, Ketchum reaches down, grabbing Frost’s ankle in mid-stride. As he attempts to trip Frost up, the Frozen One drops a huge elbow onto Ash. Ketchum cries out in pain and collapses to the ground as Frost drops on top of him, nearly crushing him under 296 pounds of destruction and death.

 

Stevens: ONE MINUTE, FORTY-FIVE SECONDS LEFT! IT ALL COMES DOWN TO THIS!

 

Riley: I think Frost is just trying to survivie this last minute fourty-five!

 

As Frost begins to get up, he realizes the amazing opportunity he’s been given. Ash is down, and he’s got a chance to burn all the remaining time off the clock. Stepping over Ash, Frost sits on his back and puts Ash's arms on his legs. Frost then links his hands under Ash's chin and pulls back, throwing the helpless Ash into a-

 

Stevens: CAMEL CLUTCH WITH 1:30 TO GO! THIS MAY BE IT!

 

Riley: THAT’S IT!! IT’S OVER! IT’S OVER!!!

 

Ash Ketchum screams out in pain, desperately trying to break out of the hold, but Frost torques Ash’s body, contortioning it to his will, causing Ash to cry out in pain as Frost begins to get up a little bit, pulling Ash Ketchum’s back and chest into a deeper contortion!

 

Stevens: LESS THAN A MINUTE LEFT! CAN ASH BREAK OUT OF IT?!?!

 

Riley: No.

 

Frost continues to pull Ash up into almost a Steiner recliner type move, and holds it now that he has Ash pinned down. With Ash still locked under his chin, Frost pulls back and pulls Ash further into contortion Ash onto his feet and quickly into the air, attempting some sort of full nelson slam! But as Frost pulls at Ash, the crowd begins to cheer for Ash.

 

Crowd: KETCHUM! KETCHUM!

 

Stevens: They’ve come to life, cheering for the Undercard King, but he can’t hear them... can he?

 

As if Ash can pick up their vibes at the airport and feed off of their energy, he begins to get up. The crowd pops and cheers louder as he begins to push onto his feet, teeth clenched in horrifying pain. Frost tries to push him down, but he can’t.

 

Stevens: KETCHUM IS RUNNING ON PURE ADRENALINE AT THIS POINT!

 

As Ash gets to his feet, he shifts himself around, and in a desperation move, jumps into the air and thrusts his legs out. Luckily, they smash Frost in the face, hitting him with an important dropkick! Ketchum continues to flip forward as Frost releases him, eventually, landing softly on his back and rolling up onto his feet as Frost staggers back from the blow!

 

Stevens: HE BROKE OUT OF IT! HE BROKE OUT OF IT!

 

Riley: How in the hell’d he do that?!?!?!

 

Ash rolls onto his feet he turns around just as Frost steps forward, swinging his arm and attempting a clothesline! Ash, though, ducks the blow as Frost overshoots Ash. Ash then steps behind him, hooking his arms as he quickly falls back into a backslide neckbreaker! Frost’s head bounces off the ground as he and Ash remain down, but Ketchum releases the hold he has upon Frost’s arms.

 

Stevens: FORTY SECONDS LEFT! GET UP, ASH!

 

Slowly, Ash Ketchum begins to get up onto his feet, but as he staggers forward, he trips up, falling forward onto his face. He likes there for a few seconds as the timer ticks down. Thirty, then twenty-five seconds to go. Ash’s body is about to give up, but he knows he has to keep going. His mind is what helps him to get up. Meanwhile, Frost lies down on the mat, blown out from the C4 Ash Ketchum gave him.

 

Stevens: TWENTY SECONDS LEFT!!!!

 

Riley: He’s not gonna make it!

 

Ketchum tries to push himself up, slowly, moving closer and closer towards that golden door, his chance at history.

 

Stevens: FIFTEEN SECONDS LEFT!!!!!!

 

Riley: HE’S NOT GONNA MAKE IT!!! YES!

 

As Ash scrambles to his feet, the counter begins to tick down, crowd counting along...

 

TEN!

 

Ketchum begins the walk towards his flight, where his wife and unborn child await him-

 

NINE!

 

Stevens: ASH IS ONLY FEET AWAY!

 

EIGHT!

 

Riley: DAMMIT! SOMEONE STOP HIM!

 

SEVEN!

 

Ketchum sees the entrance to the plane in front of him-

 

SIX!

 

And he begins to move towards it slowly-

 

FIVE!

 

But as we go back out to the gate, only stewardesses and airport employees are there.

 

Riley: WHERE’S FROST?

 

FOUR!

 

Ketchum steps onto the plane with one foot, then the other, just as the timer hits-

 

THREE!

 

Stevens: HE’S ON THE PLANE! HE’S ON THE PLANE! BUT HERE COMES FROST!

 

TWO!

 

Charging towards the plane in one last ditch attempt to get Ash off of it, Frost grabs onto Ash with both arms, attempting to rip him from the plane, but Ash reacts-

 

ONE!

 

With a huge elbow to Frost’s face, knocking him out of the plane and causing him to release Ash’s shoulders just milliseconds before the timer hits-

 

ZERO!

 

Ketchum trips, still in the plane, but he falls forward, landing on his knees. He attempts to get up, but he collapses back onto his knees, exhausted from the battle. The referee in charge of the belt stops for a second to think about it, and then, he quickly grabs Ash’s wrist and lifts it into the air.

 

Funyon: The winner of this match AND NEW SWF HARDCORE CHAMPION... ASH KETCHUM!!!!

 

Riley: NO!!!! THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING!!!! FROST WAS IN THE PLANE! HE HAD ASH STOPPED!

 

Stevens: BY GOD!! BY GOD!!! HE’S DONE IT!!! HE’S DONE IT!!!!!!!!! ASH KETCHUM IS A 3-TIME HARDCORE CHAMPION!!! ASH KETCHUM IS A 3-TIME HARDCORE CHAMPION!

 

We see a shot of the arena, where the sold-out crowd is on their feet, cheering like hell as Ketchum is helped to his feet and handed the belt for the third time in his long career. The XF9 Locker Room explodes in cheer as in the M7 locker room, Tom Flesher throws his black hat onto the ground in disgust. Frost steps into the referee’s face, screaming at him and trying to change his decision. He claims he was in the plane when the timer hit zero, and therefore, stopped Ash from catching his flight. As he desperately tries to plea his case, the referee blows him off entirely, telling him that he lost because Ash got onto the plane with two seconds left.

 

Stevens: LISTEN TO THIS CAPACTIY CROWD! THEY ARE LOVING IT! THEY ARE ELECTRIFIED! POKEMANIA IS HARDCORE ONCE MORE HERE IN COLUMBUS!

 

The ref continues to help Ash get up, but as he does, Frost grabs hold of his throat, pushing his fingers deeper and deeper around the ref’s exposed throat in a chokehold. The crowd explodes as Frost lifts the ref up, and quickly, he gets slammed down into a god almighty-

 

Stevens: CHOKESLAM! CHOKESLAM FROM FROST! THE REFEREE’S BEEN BROKEN IN TWO! GET SECURITY, SOMEONE!

 

The ref lies down on the floor, out of it as Ash looks up, spotting Frost again, his eyes in a piercing stare that is paired with a sadistic grin. Ash turns and attempts to make it back to his seat, but it’s too late. Frost grabs hold of Ash’s shoulder, stopping him and turning him back around. As Ash is spun around, Frost’s arm coils back, fist coiling into a ball of flesh, muscle, and bone. And then, he unleashes it, slamming Ash in the face with a huge hook to his face, sending him tumbling to the ground flying into first-class. The crowd boos even louder now, angry because Frost is just destroying a helpless Ash. Frost continues to stomp at Ash, grabbing him and picking him up on the plane.

 

Riley: Yeah! Go, Frost, go! Show him how to be hardcore!

 

Stevens: OH COME ON NOW! STOP THIS MAN!

 

As Frost picks Ash up, Ketchum lets Frost knows he’s not dead, driving his knees into Frost’s balls. Frost lets out a gigantic cry while Ash grabs him around the head and nearly drops him before he falls back, both men going down with a huge DDT!

 

Stevens: THEY’RE FIGHTING ON THE PLANE! THEY WANT THE OTHER ONE TO BE KNOCKED UNCONSCIOUS OR SOMETHING!

 

With a struggle, both wrestlers race to their feet. As they do, Ash heaves upwards with his fist swinging right under Frost’s jaw, smashing his teeth together with an almighty uppercut. Frost falters back, but manages to throw in a punch, but is clamped down by Ash, who grips his arms over Frost’s neck and jumps down to his knees in a sit-down jawbreaker. Ash then steps behind him, hooking his arms as he plans to quickly fall back and nail a backslide neckbreaker! But Frost counters, lifitng Ash into the air the second he hooks Frost’s arms, and placing him on his shoulders, drops Ash down as he drops into a sitting position, slamming Ash into the floor of the plane with a huge sit-out powerbomb! Misty, upon seeing this, lets out a terrifying scream, as doe sevral other passengers as they see Ash Ketchum scream for a second, then go limp, his eyes shutting as his blood wipes off on the carpet.

 

Riley: OH MY GOD! WHAT A POWERBOMB! WHAT A SLOBBERKNOCKER!!!

 

As Frost site there on the carpet for a second, getting his breath back, he grabs Ash’s head and pulls him up very slowly, the referee still down on the ground.

 

Stevens: IT’S THIS MAN’S WEDDING NIGHT! COME ON, FROST! HAVE MERCY ON HIM! PLEASE!!!

 

As Frost picks Ash up, he grabs Ash in a chokehold, thumb across the throat as he lifts him up.

 

Riley: FINISH THE PUNK!

 

Stevens: WILL SOMEBODY STOP THIS MANIAC?

 

The thumb remains in place as security reaches the gate, Frost smiling as he quickly moves the thumb across Ash’s neck to indicate a throat-slashing motion. He turns to Misty, holding Ash’s bloody head like a trophy, and laughs. The newlywed woman cowers in fear as Frost turns back around. The crowd in the arena continues to boo Frost as he steps behind Ash. Frost reaches under one of Ash's arms with one hand and places it behind Ash's neck. Frost uses his free arm to reach across Ash's body and grab Ash's arm, which is on the the same side as the arm Frost is applying the half nelson. Frost then pulls Ash's arm across his face and locks his hands around Ash's neck, moving to the side of Ash and wrapping his leg around Ash's near leg. Frost promptly falls forward and sweeps out Ash's leg, dropping Ash on his chest! The whole plane shakes as several screams are heard from the passengers, who are in shock as Frost finishes the front cobra clutch Russian leg sweep!

 

“THUD!”

 

Riley: WHOA! Icelandic Leg Sweep!A variation on Ted Dibiase’s old Million Dollar Buster! But WHAT A MOVE! IT WAS AMAZING!

 

Stevens: OH MY GOD! RIGHT ONTO THAT SEAT IN THE AIRPLANE! MY GOD, THE ARM REST WAS RIPPED RIGHT OFF!!

 

Riley: YES!!! HOO-AH! WHAT A BLOW!

 

Ash Ketchum falls limp to the ground, blood beginning to trickle from his lips as Frost flips Ash onto his back. Ketchum’s eyes are shut as the crowd in the arena begins to boo Frost. The Frozen One scoops up Ash’s Hardcore Title and holds it in front of him, telling Ash he’s not tough enough to be Hardcore champ and that he’s a has-been. He continunes to do so until a group of ten or so security guards, guns drawn, approach him.

 

Guard: FREEZE!

 

Frost drops the belt, both hands in the air as he grins happily. Three guards grab Frost’s arms while a fourth cuffs his hands behind his back. He grins as they grab him by the cuffs and escort him away, but before he does, Frost turns his head around and uncorks a loogie that lands in Ash Ketchum’s face, Frost laughing sadistically while security carries him away.

 

Riley: Whoa. That kicked ass! Five-star match, all the way! I loved it!

 

Stevens: This is unbelieveable! Frost is being lead away in cuffs, and Ash Ketchum is supposed to be on his honeymoon, but he’s been assaulted ON the airplane! What a crazy match we’ve seen tonight! But still to come, Mak Francis battles Tom Flesher for the ICTV Title and Sacred and El Luchador Magnifico hook it up for the SWF World Championship! But what an ending! Our new Hardcore champ has been laid out on the plane he was to take to his honeymoon! Simply mindboggling...

[Guest BA_Baracus]

***The cameraman barely has enough time to get out of the way, as Tod deKindes exits his dressing room, belt in hand, rolling briefcase in the other and with a murderous look on his face. Ben Hardy tries to get a word from the still U.S. champ, but he's promptly shoved aside by the german grappler. He almost gets to his car, but he's stopped once again by the leggy Sarah Leavenworth who's blocking his path with a finger to the chest.***

 

Sarah: What the HELL was that, Tod?! You manage to win your match and now you go on and pull THIS?! You have a lot of explaining to do; this is NOT what XF9 is all about!!

 

Tod: I … explain nothing … to nobody. Now, for your safety; I … suggest that you move.

 

***Seeing as she won't budge, Tod forces her hand out of his face and pushes her aside in a crisp motion. He dumps everything into the passenger seat, enters his rental car and screeches away…

 

…As Sarah watches him leaving, rubbing her wrist.***

[Guest BA_Baracus]

The October pay-per-view broadcast returns with a panning shot of the Nationwide Arena in Columbus, Ohio. Fans are shown holding signs such as "Franchise Me Hard!," "I've Got A Superiority Complex" and "Magnificent 4." The SmarkTron flashes the ICTV Title logo, which then shrinks to the bottom of the screen. On the left, a photo of Tom Flesher appears, showing him in his grey suit with the ICTV Title over his shoulder. On the right, a photo of Mak Francis in his Franchise t-shirt fades on, showing the hunger and desire in his eyes. Across the bottom, the words "TOM VS MAK... ICTV TITLE... EAST COAST, BIATCH" scroll, letting everyone know the the technical marvel about to take place.

 

"Fans, we're extremely excited about this match," says Mark Stevens. "Tom Flesher and Mak Francis are, without a doubt, two of the top workers in the SWF today, and up until a week ago, they were stablemates and tag team partners."

 

"Yeah, until Mak went and fucked everything up," spits Bobby Riley. "Stupid kid didn't want to do his job... he just wanted to get all the glory. Little bastard."

 

"Hey, Flesher sent Mak out there to soften Thoth up. He had to know that when you've got a talented kid like Mak, sometimes he's going to get caught up in his work. He just did his job too well and ended up winning this title shot."

 

"And so he should have forfeited! Flesher gave him the chance!"

 

"Mak Francis has barely been in this league a month, and already he's got two wins over Thoth and numerous other impressive showings. Flesher should be very wary of this youngster."

 

"He shouldn't have to be, dammit!"

 

"We're going to see exactly how wary Flesher SHOULD be of this upset artist right now as 'The Superior One' Tom Flesher defends his ICTV Title against stablemate 'The Franchise' Mak Francis! Let's go to Funyon!"

 

In the ring, Funyon poses in a red sequined cutaway cote, still managing to look impecable. (Of course, anyone would look tasteful compared to Bobby Riley's powder blue ruffles.) "Ladies and gentlemen," he announces, "the following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the joint SWF Intercontinental-Television Championship!"

 

The arena goes dark....

 

"ARE YOU READY?"

 

 

"ARE YOU READY?!"

 

 

 

 

"CAUSE THE FRANCHISE IS HERE!!!!"

 

The SmarkTron flashes the words "THE FRANCHISE," then switches off to a blue and white photo negative of Mak Francis. "Down With The Sickness" blares through the Nationwide Arena as Mak Francis steps through the velvet curtain in his black t-shirt and tights. As the lights come back up, the Franchise walks slowly to the ring, staring only at the center of the mat.

 

"Look at the determination on his face, Bobby! Mak Francis is here, and he's on a mission!"

 

"A mission trip to Mexico?"

 

"That's not till the next match."

 

Francis climbs up the stairs and enters the ring through the ropes. He poses in the center and grabs his chin just like his opponent always has.

 

"The challenger," says Funyon, "weighing in at 225 pounds, and hailing from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania... Are you ready? Are you ready? Because this is The Franchise, this is MAK.... FRANCIS!!!!!!!!!"

 

Francis throws his hands up into the air, prompting the crowd to boo him loudly. When he realizes that the crowd isn't simply going to cheer him based on the fact that his opponent is the most annoying person in the world, he disgustedly whips his shirt and sunglasses off and sets them in the corner before leaning on the ropes and looking toward the entrance and occasionally turning his glance to the hostile crowd.

 

Dutifully, the SmarkTron flashes white, with the words "SUPERIORITY COMPLEX" and "MAGNIFICENT SEVEN" appearing in blue. Funyon declares, "And his opponent..."

 

BOOM!!!!!

 

An explosion rocks the Nationwide Arena, lighting it up in blue and sending smoke billowing from the entrance as "Kashmir" bursts onto the sound system. Through the cloud of smoke, Tom Flesher steps out, grabbing his chin in the pose that Mak emulates so often. With his ICTV Title slung over his shoulder and his head held high, Flesher strides to the ring. He walks slowly and purposefully, ready to put Mak Francis in his place for daring to go against his orders. The fans shower him with a chorus of boos as he walks down the ramp. He steps into the ring and moves to the center, cracking his neck as he waits for the appropriate spot in his theme. As the symphonic hook of "Kashmir" rings through the arena in staccato bursts, matching bolts of pyro explode from the cornerposts in Flesher's colors of blue and white. After the pyro show, the music fades out, and Funyon takes the index card out of his pocket. He reads:

 

"Currently in the ring is not only the top worker in the SWF today, but he's also one heck of a nice guy. Why? Because he's willing to offer this green young rookie one more chance to back out of this no-win situation. Mak Francis, please remember that you've been not only asked but ordered to forfeit this match by your leader in the Magnificent Seven, so bow down before your leader, bow down before the ICTV Champion, 213 pounds of superiority, bow down before the Superior One, Tom Flesher!"

 

The fans shower Flesher with a chorus of boos. Flesher glares at Mak Francis, who simply shakes his head and mouths the words, "Ring the bell." The crowd involuntarily pops at Mak's bravery and determination, and Flesher simply shakes his head angrily. He strips off his warmup suit and throws it into the corner, then quickly kisses the ICTV belt and hands it off to senior official Rick Spicer. Spicer holds the belt up, then gives it to the timekeeper. Flesher and Mak stare at each other, each man looking both careful and ready to do anything to win the match, and the referee signals for the bell.

 

 

DING DING DING!!!!!

 

 

Flesher and Mak meet in the center of the ring, neither man's gaze wavering. After a moment of tension, Mak Francis slowly extends his hand. Flesher looks down, raises his eyebrow, and carefully looks back up. He stares Mak in the eye, then clasps his hand around Mak's. With one quick pump, the two shake hands, still not taking their eyes off each other. Flesher leans in and says, "You're going to shake my hand after you tap, too, little man." Francis shoots back with, "Not if I snap your neck and crack your skull with the Franchise Tag first." With that, they break their clasp, then fall into a collar-and-elbow tieup.

 

"Harsh words exchanged from both men," says Mark Stevens. "Each man is doing his best to undermine the other's confidence, but neither seems shaken."

 

"Oh, come on, you damn mark," retorts Riley. "Mak's shaking in his fucking boots."

 

The two workers fight in the tieup, each man jockeying for position. Suddenly, Mak grabs Flesher's wrist and pulls it out, throwing the whole arm to the side and consequently opening Tom's whole body to attack. Mak drops down, grabbing Flesher's left leg. He levers the leg up, sending Tom spilling to the mat. He lands and immediately rolls to his stomach, spread-eagling on his stomach in a classic mat-wrestling defensive position. Mak drops down onto him, focusing his attention on the left arm. He grabs Flesher's wrist and twists it, pressuring the entire arm. Opting to follow the path of least resistance rather than risk injury this early in the match, Flesher allows Mak to bend the arm in front of his head. The Franchise seizes the opportunity and snakes his arm under the Superior One's shoulder, looking for the half nelson integral to Mak's trademark cobra clutch and its many variants. As he feels Mak slapping on the half nelson, Flesher reaches up and peels Mak's hand off the back of his head. Mak forces it back on, and Flesher peels it off once again. Deciding to follow a different route, Mak grabs Flesher's wrist and twists it back below his shoulder blades in a textbook hammerlock.

 

"An excellent takedown by Mak Francis, and he's taking control on the mat," says Mark Stevens.

 

"You have to wonder whether Flesher's luring him into a trap," responds Bobby Riley. "I mean, Flesher's so good on the mat."

 

"Mak Francis isn't bad himself, Bobby."

 

"True, but he's not superior."

 

Mak twists Flesher's arm and leans on it, using all of his weight to put pressure on the left arm. Flesher winces, then tries to push himself up using his free right arm. Mak rides him close, keeping his hips tight on Flesher's body and following each motion.

 

"Mak is, of course, in a position of advantage here. Really, he doesn't want to do much in this position. Flesher, on the other hand, needs to expend energy to break the submission hold."

 

"Oh, whatever, Mark. Flesher got caught in the very beginning, but the closer he is to the canvas, the better shape he's in."

 

Flesher fights the hold, eventually building up a base and switching to a sit-out position. Mak, staying tight to Flesher, keeps the hammerlock as he kicks his left leg over Flesher's. He then throws his right leg over to look for a bodyscissors grip. Flesher catches the leg, though, with his free right arm. He hooks Mak's ankle in the crook of his elbow, immobilizing it. Thinking quickly, Tom leans to the left, then throws Mak's leg upward, using the momentum and leverage to send his opponent rolling to the side so he can free himself. Mak, like any solid matworker, rolls thrnugh and comes up to his feet. Tom gets back to his feet, shakes out his left arm, and casually baits Mak back to the center.

 

"Tom Flesher asserts his superiority with what I guess was a modified shoulder roll, but I don't even know what to call it!" says Riley. "How can you not love this guy?!"

 

"Indeed, an impressive counter to equally impressive matwork and awareness from his protege, Mak Francis. It looks like this one's already steaming, and it's only going to get hotter!"

 

Riley sarcastically asks, "Is that a PROMISE, Mark?"

 

Stevens politely takes his cue and says, "That, my friends, is a DAMN promise."

 

Mak, a little put off by Flesher winning the first battle on the mat, steps to the center looking even more determined. He locks up forcefully, not trying to intimidate his mentor but simply trying to outwork him. Flesher and Mak jockey for position, with Tom acting slightly more confident after having won the previous mat battle. Flesher underhooks Francis' left arm and throws it up, opening Mak's body to attacks. Flesher immediately dives in and hits a go-behind, then lifts his opponent up and hits a waistlock takedown. As soon as he hits the mat, Mak reaches back and tries to control Flesher's left arm. With Flesher on top, though, it's very hard for Mak to do it. Flesher spins Mak into a sitout position and reaches down for a reverse chinlock, but Mak takes that opportunity to grab Flesher's wrist. He spins out, wrapping Tom's arm tightly around his neck, and rolls quickly to the left. Flesher, unable to block the roll because Mak is holding the arm he'd use to post, goes straight to his back. Mak releases the arm and, with the crowd cheering, follows through into a lateral press for

 

ONE!

 

 

but no more, as Flesher kicks out almost immediately and rolls to his feet. Mak, following suit, jumps up and immediately locks back up as the crowd applauds his inventive counter and near-fall.

 

"And Mak Francis is showing Tom he can hold his own!"

 

"That's exactly what he'll be doing tonight after he loses the match, Grand Prize!"

 

The two workers lock up once more, Flesher looking very upset at having been caught on his back. Taking the initiative, he grabs Mak's left arm and throws on a standing wristlock, then spins through to go for an ippon shoulder throw. Mak limp-arms to counter thew throw, and Flesher harmlessly spins through. With his arm occupied, Mak realizes that he needs to break the hold before he can go on the offensive. With that in mind, he flips over onto his back, then nips up into an armlock reversal that gets a very positive reaction from the crowd. They cheer as Mak comes up with Flesher's left arm tied into a wristlock, but are abruptly silenced when Flesher winds up and nails Mak in the jaw with a stiff palm strike! The crowd, realizing that Flesher broke the implicit code of honor between the two collegiate athletes, bursts into a chorus of boos. Tom ignores them and trips Mak to the mat, then covers him for

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO- No, Mak kicks out! Flesher slides down his opponent's body and applies a waistlock.

 

"I can't believe that!" says Grand Slam, clearly agitated by Flesher's decision to strike. "These two were working an unbelievable scientific match, and Flesher comes out of nowhere and nails Mak in the jaw! He should be ashamed of himself!"

 

"Hey, show me where it says that you're not allowed to use a shotei. Just go ahead and show me."

 

"It's not that it's illegal, Bobby, it's the principle of it!"

 

"Well, you don't win titles on principle, Mark The Mark, and you don't win them on hard work. You win them by being better than the rest, and that's what Flesher is."

 

Tom and Mak grapple on the mat, Tom working to tighten his waistlock and Mak looking to escape it. Flesher gets the hold tightened to his satisfaction and starts to lift Francis to his feet. The Franchise willingly follows, only to attempt a standing switch once Flesher starts his throwing motion for a German suplex. Mak fails to hit the switch but, calling onto his knowledge of collegiate and freestyle throws, grapevines Flesher's left leg to stop the motion. Tom sets Mak back down to break the leg hook, then lifts him up to attempt the hold again. Once again, Mak uses the grapevine counter. Flesher sets him back down, clearly frustrated, and Mak takes advantage of the moment of relaxation to execute the standing switch! He ends up behind Flesher, who reacts by dropping to one knee to make himself harder to lift. Francis responds by releasing his waistlock and shooting his left arm under the shoulder to get the half nelson! the crowd pops briefly, but is stopped short as Tom reaches up and blocks his opponent from going any further with the Million Dollar Exemption. He grabs Mak's wrist and peels it off, then clamps his shoulder down to immobilize the whole arm. Quickly, he spins out to the side with an armbar that sets Mak off balance, then sends Mak belly-down to the mat and ends up on top with a single chicken wing. He pins the arm against Mak's back and spins to the side, perpendicular to Mak's torso. He threads his arm under Mak's elbow and reaches across Mak's back for his right wrist. With both of the Franchise's arms tied up, Flesher reaches across Mak's face and grabs his shoulder, then rolls him onto his back for a classic freestyle "By The Numbers" pin. Rick Spicer counts

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

Mak plants his head on the mat and bridges out! The fans cheer, softly at first but louder with every inch that Mak bridges! Finally, nearly the whole arena is clapping as Mak arches up and shrugs Flesher off of his body! The Franchise flips onto his stomach just as Flesher gets to his feet.

 

"What a neck bridge!" shouts Mark Stevens. "We haven't seen Mak Francis bridge out of a pin since.... well... ever! His collegiate background is certainly coming into play in this match, probably more than Tom Flesher had hoped for!"

 

Flesher reaches down and hurries Mak up to his feet. The two lock up, with Flesher clearly irritated by Mak's bridging out of one of his favorite amateur pinning combinations. Flesher plants his feet and tries to whip Francis to the ropes, but the junior member of the Magnificent Seven plants his feet and uses the momentum to nail Flesher with a double-leg takedown! He lifts Tom's legs high into the air and puts a great deal of torque on them, looking for his rare Liontamer. Flesher fights on the mat, refusing to let Mak turn him. Mak responds by working to force the hold even more, but Flesher spreads out to make it even more difficult. Finally, Mak lets his legs go and drops down onto Flesher to look for a quick pin.

 

He falls between Flesher's legs, starting his series with a grab for Flesher's left wrist. Flesher fights to keep him from securing the wristlock, and the two tangle for it as Mark Stevens declares, "Flesher does NOT want to get caught!"

 

Bobby Riley answers, "Well, duh.... but Mak needs to be careful too, if he doesn't want to get choked out."

 

Sure enough, Flesher manages to gain control of Mak's left wrist after throwing a stiff palm strike to Mak's face. Once again, the crowd boos what they see as Flesher's unsportsmanlike conduct. Mak recoils from the unexpected blow, and Flesher takes the opportunity to fully extend his opponent's arm. Quickly, he snakes up Mak's body until he can easily wrap his legs around his neck and shoulders, locking up a triangle choke!

 

"It's over now!" shouts Bobby gleefully. "There's no way Mak can get out of this!"

 

Francis realizes what the hold is too late to counter it, but rather than give up, he immediately starts to fight it. First, Mak reaches up and tries to use his free hand to peel Flesher's ankles apart in hopes of breaking the scissors grip. When that fails, and Flesher responds by tightening the lock even further, Mak decides to go for the more standard counter: he forces his weight forward, stacking Flesher's hips over his shoulders for a pinning combination. Rick Spicer counts

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

but Flesher breaks the hold and rolls through. Mak takes a moment to shake off the cobwebs brought on by the triangle choke. Flesher, thankful for a breather, simply relaxes instead of attacking. Mak stays on his knees for a few more seconds before he steps back up to Flesher. Cockily, Flesher steps forward and nails Mak in the chest with a palm blow. Mak, caught by the third unprovoked strike in what he had seen as a pure wrestling match, looks down at Flesher with fire in his eyes, and rears back. Suddenly....

 

CRACK!!!!!!! (WHOO!)

 

"Mak Francis is one angry man!" says Mark Stevens. "He can't believe the way Flesher was giving him cheap shots!"

 

"Cheap shots?! Palm blows are perfectly legal!"

 

"Be that as it may, these two were wrestling on the mat, and that's simply not what was supposed to happen."

 

"You know who else violated some silly code of honor? The American Revolution's minutemen! Would you call THEM cowardly?!"

 

The loud slap of Mak Francis' knife-edge chop rings out through the arena, and Flesher staggers backwards. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" Mak shouts, before unloading another chop on Flesher's chest.

 

CRACK!!!!!! (WHOO!)

 

Sweat flies off Flesher's chest as Mak's hand contacts it, and Flesher steps back out of shock again. The crowd cheers Mak as he gives the disrespect right back to Tom Flesher. And once again....

 

CRACK!!!!!!! (WHOO!)

 

Mak's open hand cuts across Tom Flesher's chest like a blade. The entire arena bursts into cheers as Flesher backs away. With Flesher stunned, Mak knees him in the stomach and falls back directly into a DDT! Flesher flops over onto his back, caught completely by surprise. Mak rolls over onto him for

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THR- KICKOUT!!! Flesher kicks out, and Mak stays on top of him. Mak grabs Flesher's left arm and goes for a wristlock, but Flesher spins out and faces him. Both wrestlers come up to their feet, and Mak continues to grapple for the hold. Flesher plants his feet and spins through into an Irish whip that sends Mak into the corner. He follows through by charging in and nailing Mak with a running palm strike! With the Franchise stunned, Flesher grabs his arm and spins through, whipping him to the opposite corner! He then follows Mak in, once again hitting a running palm strike, and this time Mak collapses into a seated position leaning against the corner. Flesher looks down at Mak Francis in a heap in the corner and smirks, then lifts his size 11 Doc Marten up and plants it on Mak's face. Before he performs his trademark boot scrape, Tom pauses to survey the crowd, then begin a round of applause for himself.

 

"What sheer, unabashed egotism!" says Grand Slam. "Flesher isn't just arrogant, it's like he's in his own little world!"

 

"Hey," replies Bobby Riley casually, "if living in Flesher's world is wrong, then I don't wanna be right."

 

Flesher ends his shameless self-promotion with a quick bow before he adjusts the placement of his foot on Mak's face. Before Tom can swcrape the sole across his opponent's face, though, Mak grabs his boot and pulls it off! He stands up, putting Flesher slightly off balance, and then falls to the side with a dragon screw leg whip! Flesher hits the mat and Mak keeps the leg,following through into a spinning toe hold! As Mak goes for the figure four leglock, Flesher reaches up and grabs his head, pulling him to the mat in a small package! Spicer counts

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

KICKOUT!!!! Mak kicks out of the small package, and Flesher comes up to his knees. Mak rolls through, lands on his back, then nips up into his wrestling stance to a round of applause from the capacity crowd! Flesher, meanwhile, slowly rises to his feet and dismissively waves Mak away.

 

"Flesher's playing a dangerous game with the emotions of Mak Francis," Stevens points out. "Obviously, he's trying to rattle the Franchise, but thus far it's done Flesher more harm than good."

 

"That's because it's still early. You just wait... in no time, Mak will be gassed, Flesher will be cranking his neck or breaking one of his limbs, and your precious little Franchise is going to turn into that old abandoned Wendy's where junior high boys go to smoke."

 

"While it's highly creepy that you know where junior high boys go to smoke, you may have a point... but Mak Francis is more than capable of putting Tom Flesher down for the count, or even making him tap."

 

With Mak looking very angry, Flesher steps in for a lockup... and then backs out, waving his hands in the "Wait A Minute" gesture. He pauses, cracks his neck, and shakes out his left arm. After a moment, he steps back in for another lockup, only to back out once again. As he reaches up to crack his neck, Mak Francis loses patience and....

 

CRACK!!!!! (WHOO!)

 

"Look at Flesher's chest! Mak's been chopping him so hard that it's raising welts!"

 

"Would you rather have welts on your chest or a concussion, Mark?"

 

"Point noted."

 

Mak winds up, and once again....

 

CRACK!!!!!!! (WHOO!)

 

This time, though, Flesher fires back with a stiff right-handed palm strike to the jaw! Mak answers with another chop, only to absorb another palm to the face. The men continue exchanging blows, gradually getting more and more forceful, until Flesher shoves Mak backwards. With the space he created, Flesher steps into a spin as Bobby Riley marks out, shouting "HERE COMES THE ROARING SHOTEI~!" Flesher steps through the 360-degree spin, throwing his right palm forward and extending his arm.... BUT MAK DUCKS! Flesher follows through, set off balance by the lack of impact, and Mak lets him slide harmlessly by. With Tom's weight shoved awkwardly forward, Mak takes the opportunity to grab him around the waist and hoist him up. A quick pop of Mak's hips sends Flesher floating head-over in a gutwrench suplex, and he lands hard, flat on his back! From there, Mak grabs Flesher's left arm and pulls it out, the steps around to put one leg on each side.

 

"Could Mak be going for the cross-"

 

"What an ungrateful little bastard!" shouts Bobby Riley, cutting Stevens off. "Flesher TEACHES him the cross armbreaker, and Mak's trying to use it against him!"

 

Flesher sees the hold coming, though, and quickly scurries for the ropes. Before Francis can fall back and secure the hold, Rick Spicer waves him away. Sullenly, Mak Francis complies, and Tom pulls himself to his feet.

 

"Believe it or not, Bobby, that's the first rope break we've seen in this match, which has already taken more time than most Storm matches to develop to this stage."

 

"What an odd thing to say, Mark. However, I'm sure that the sheer skill of these two workers is responsible for that, notwithstanding Tom Flesher's unmatched ability as a ring general."

 

"Mak Francis carried more than his share of workers in the SJL, you know."

 

"Pfft. Tonight, he's the broomstick, and he better get used to it."

 

With that, Francis steps in to grab Flesher and sends him running to the opposite side of the ring. Tom bounces off the ropes and charges toward Mak, who catches him with a quick hiptoss to send him to the mat. Mak keeps the arm and immediately steps into a pumphandle armbar, once again looking for the cross armbreaker. Flesher, lacking any legitimate course of action, flexes his elbow and... well, let's ask Bobby Riley what he did.

 

"My monitor went out."

 

Never mind.

 

"Flesher just nailed Mak Francis in the groin! How's THAT for unethical treatment of the testicles, Bobby?"

 

"I didn't see anything."

 

"Don't you ever get tired of recycling that old excuse?"

 

"What was that? I couldn't hear you. I was looking under the table for my percolator."

 

Stevens sighs as Mak Francis looks helplessly up at Rick Spicer, who waves his hands to dismiss any possibility of a disqualification. Flesher bends and straightens his left arm once, and twice, and then gets to his feet. He spins behind Mak and strikes him stiffly in the back of the neck to stun him, then locks his hands around Mak's waist. He lifts Mak up off the mat and, taking advantage of Mak's defenseless state, arches backward powerfully. With a solid pop of the hips, Tom throws Mak into the air, then releases him. Mak flies through the air, then lands stiffly on his upper back and neck. With a sickening THUD, he flops onto his back and lays motionless.

 

Flesher cockily rolls onto Francis and arrogantly drapes his body across Mak's chest. Rick Spicer counts

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

KICKOUT!!!! Mak Francis breaks the pin by kicking out, and Flesher sighs. He shakes his head, but it's obvious that he didn't really expect to put Francis down for the count, even with a released German suplex. Instead, he gets to his feet and grabs Francis by the leg. He quickly drops his elbow into the side of Mak's knees, wrenching it to the side. After a moment, Flesher stands up, then drops the elbow back into the side of Mak's knee. Instead of following through with another elbowdrop or a figure-four leglock, though, Flesher gets back to his feet, then pulls Mak up and sends him to the ropes. As Francis rebounds, Flesher jumps and nails him in the left knee with a low dropkick! Caught by surprise, Mak collapses back to the mat, and Flesher struts by him dusting his hands off conceitedly. The fans, as always, burst into a chorus of boos, only to start cheering again as Mak sneaks up behind Flesher and snags him in a schoolboy rollup! Rick Spicer drops down and counts

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

NO!!!! Flesher rolls through, and after briefly cursing the fans, he spins around to face Francis... and slaps him hard across the face!

 

SMACK!!!!!

 

Flesher, beet red, shouts, "What's wrong with you, little man?"

 

SMACK!!!!!

 

"You're gonna pull that shit with me?"

 

Flesher winds up to slap Mak again, but gets caught...

 

CRACK!!!!! (WHOO!)

 

Mak answers back with a knife-edge chop! Flesher grabs his chest, already raw, and holds it for a moment before winding up to slap Mak again. Mak reaches up with his left arm and blocks the slap, only to throw a stiff right hand at Flesher's face. Flesher blocks the punch, and does so again when Mak throws another closed fist. After blocking the second blow, Flesher takes the opportunity to kick Mak in the knee. When Mak looks down to assess the damage....

 

SMACK!!!!

 

Mak grabs his face, caught completely by surprise! As soon as he does, Flesher throws a quick dropkick to the knee that surprises and further confuses Mak. Francis falls to the mat and, with no idea what Flesher might do next, opts to roll to the outside for a quick breather. Flesher gets to his feet, nods knowingly, and starts applauding himself. The crowd reacts by booing and starting up a "YOU SUCK DICK! YOU SUCK DICK!" chant. Grinning sadistically, Flesher absorbs the chant.

 

"What a sequence by Tom Flesher!" says Riley. "Everything he did stunned and confused Mak Francis!"

 

"That's true, but after Mak catches his breath, he'll certainly be in better position. I think both men needed a break anyway, as they're really pushing each other to the extreme."

 

Flesher looks out and sees Mak on the apron pulling himself back in. He charges at his opponent, nailing him in the face with a baseball slide dropkick! Mak staggers backwards, falling into the guardrail as Flesher rolls out of the ring. Rick Spicer begins to administer his 10-count as soon as Flesher exits.

 

ONE!

 

Flesher charges at Mak with a running palm strike that levels the Franchise, sending him up and nearly over the guardrail before he collapses to the floor.

 

TWO!

 

He grabs the limp Francis and whips him into the steel cornerpost, then charges after him.

 

THREE!

 

He throws his boot up in hopes of nailing Mak with a Yakuza kick that sandwiches his head between Flesher's boot and the steel post, but Mak ducks just in time and Flesher's foot hits the ringpost at full force!

 

FOUR!

 

Flesher staggers backwards, falling to the concrete out of the combination of the pain and his loss of balance. Francis crawls over to him and uses the ring apron to pull himself to his feet.

 

FIVE!

 

Francis slides back into the ring as Flesher gets to his knees.

 

SIX!

 

Flesher pulls himself up and back into the ring.

 

"Well, that certainly backfired," says Mark Stevens.

 

"Yes sir, Captain Obvious!" grumbles Bobby Riley.

 

"Bobby, did you just salute me?"

 

"What's it to you?"

 

Mak pulls Tom to his feet and yanks his arm out into a standing armbar. From there, he takes Flesher to the mat with a Fujiwara armbar takedown. Flesher winces as Mak twists his arm out of joint on the mat, looking for some way to counter. Mak, meanwhile, switches off to a scissors grip on the wrist, holding Flesher's left arm in place as he secures a crossface hold! The fans pop as Flesher begins to grunt, crying out in pain and nearly submitting. He uses his free arm and his legs to push himself slightly toward the ropes, but for each inch of headway he makes, it seems that Mak spins him two in the opposite direction. Out of desperation, Flesher makes one more lunge for the ropes, and manages to hook his boot over the bottom strand. Spicer sees the foot on the ropes and gives Mak five seconds to break the hold. ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! and finally Mak releases Flesher, backing away slowly.

 

"Flesher's superior ring awareness may have saved him from having to tap out there," reports Mark Stevens. "It's interesting to note that neither of these men has ever tapped out during their tenure in the SWF."

 

"Of course not," says Riley. "Flesher's... well, he's Tom Flesher, dammit! And Mak Francis is Flesher Lite."

 

"Actually, he's Flesher Heavy, since Mak is three inches taller and 12 pounds heavier than Tom."

 

"Oh, eat a bag of dicks. The point is that Mak's nearly as good as Flesher, so there hasn't BEEN anyone who could make him tap. Not until he faced Flesher, anyway. You know he's going to end it crying for mercy."

 

"I wouldn't be so sure. Mak's on top right now, and probably winning on points... especially if you consider that low blow."

 

"What low blow?"

 

Stevens sighs. "You said your monitor went out, remember?"

 

"Oh, that. I'm sure you're just blind and it was really just a suplex."

 

Flesher slowly starts to pull himself to his feet using the ropes, clearly not in the best of shape. As soon as he lets go of the top rope, Mak descends on him, battering his shoulder with three double axehandles. When Flesher reels from the forceful blows, Mak grabs his left arm and fully extends it, then shoots his own left arm under it to throw in the half nelson! The crowd pops again, hoping he can finally lock on the Million Dollar Exemption... but no! Flesher grabs the ropes again, and Rick Spicer gives Mak a four-count to break the hold once more. ONE! TWO! THREE!- With Mak ready to release the hold, Flesher lets go of the ropes and twists the half nelson into a standing armbar! Instead of using it for a Fujiwara takedown, though, Flesher opts simply to drive his Doc Marten into Mak's ribs! Mak doubles over, only to have Tom continue the assault with another stiff kick to the ribcage! After a third boot, this one landing in the sternum, Flesher uses the left arm to whip Mak into the corner. Mak hits hard and begins to reel backwards, but Flesher charges in and nails him in the back of the head with a Yakuza kick! To an absolute shower of boos and the occasional empty beer cup, Flesher picks Mak up and throws him into the corner again. He lifts the Franchise up and sets him on the turnbuckle, seated and facing the center of the ring. Flesher slowly climbs, taking a moment to deliberately set each boot on each rope. When he gets to the top rope, he looks out at the crowd, and arrogantly throws Mak's arm over his head. The fans begin to boo as Mark Stevens asks, "Could Flesher be going for the Boilermaker?"

 

"I think he just might be," says Riley sarcastically. "You've got a mind like a steel trap, Grand Dame."

 

With Mak ready for the Boilermaker, Flesher takes one more moment to play to the crowd... as it turns out, one moment too many, as Mak Francis manages to shake off the cobwebs and throw on a front facelock of his own! Flesher struggles to lift Mak, but Mak's strength in hooking the ropes is too much. Mak seals the deal with a stiff right hand to the gut. With the wind knocked out of Flesher, Mak stands up, then steps to the very top rope. He lifts Flesher up, then dives forward, countering the Boilermaker with an avalanche-style gourdbuster! Flesher hits hard, but Mak can't capitalize due to his fatigue and a hard landing of his own. Both wrestlers lay on the mat for a moment. Flesher starts to push himself up off the mat, but a few inches up his strength gives out. He lays face down as Mak does the same thing, only to fall flat on his face just the same way.

 

"Look at Mak! He's face down, like all the rest!"

 

"Don't get overexcited, Bobby, you might tear your quad... Flesher's face down too. This is going to be a battle of sheer willpower and intestinal fortitude to see which wrestler wants the win more."

 

"Intestinal? Don't you mean testicular?"

 

"No sir," says Stevens. "That's your line, remember?"

 

Slowly, each man begins to stir, with Rick Spicer conspicuously refusing to make a ten-count. He can be heard to yell to the timekeeper, "There's no way I'm counting these two out. They're working too well."

 

Mak makes it to his knees first, shaking his head to unscramble his brains and get his wind back. As he does, Tom finally succeeds in pushing himself up. Mak gets one foot up as Flesher makes it to his knees, and by the time Flesher is on one knee, Mak is already to his feet. He looks over at Flesher, and he nods silently. "He doesn't see Flesher," calls Stevens, "he sees a sitting duck!"

 

"Yeah," retorts Riley, "well he SHOULD see the guy who got him where he is today! Ungrateful little bastard!"

 

"I'd say Tyler Kinkel and Chris Wilson had a lot to do with that too, Bobby."

 

Mak sees Flesher on one knee and charges at him with three quick steps, throwing a textbook dropkick that puts Flesher back down onto the mat. He falls close to the ropes and starts to crawl to the outside, but Francis gets back up to his feet and grabs Flesher's leg first. He pulls Flesher slightly toward the center before grabing the other leg as well. With Flesher stunned, Mak easily torques both legs and steps over into a Liontamer! Flesher, jolted back to awareness by the feeling of his legs being torn from their sockets by the high-angle Boston crab, lunges for the ropes. Mak stops him short, but Flesher slowly pulls himself a few inches closer. With another powerful lunge, Flesher manages to grab the bottom rope. Mak breaks the hold without admonition from Rick Spicer, and Tom Flesher slides out of the ring and grabs the small of his back.

 

"Tom Flesher, feeling the effects of being nearly broken in half by Mak Francis' Liontamer," notes Mark Stevens. "Flesher may be young, but let me tell you, that abuse adds up fast."

 

"I KNOW," says Riley. "And then they tell YOU to go say ten Hail Marys!"

 

Stevens pauses for a moment, then... "Well, it looks like we've lost our contract to broadcast in Boston."

 

 

Somewhere, Strangler says, "Dang."

 

 

Mak patiently waits in the ring as Tom Flesher wanders around the outside. Rick Spicer counts as Flesher blithely strolls around the ring, seeming to weigh his options. Finally, he shrugs, and walks over to the timekeeper's table. Exasperated with the way the match is turning out, he grabs his ICTV Title belt and begins to head to the back.

 

"Oh, god, not this again. Flesher's such a baby sometimes," says Stevens. "He walks out whenever things don't go his way, and he gets to take that damn title belt with him!"

 

"Now," says Riley, "don't act like it's not his right. The rules give the champion a certain advantage. If Flesher wants to use the rules to his benefit, then god bless him, I hope he finds every loophole. Remember, rules were meant to be exploited."

 

Flesher starts to walk out, when suddenly he hears shouting...

 

"HEY, BITCH..."

 

He turns around to see Francis shooing him away. "You may be the leader of the stable, but... sure. You go on back to the locker room, and you admit to everyone here that YOU... are MY... BITCH."

 

Mak begins stomping the mat in rhythm, and leading a "YOU'RE HIS BITCH! YOU'RE HIS BITCH!" chant. The crowd, starting to warm up to Mak as he fights valiantly for the ICTV Title, joins in, and suddenly it seems like all of Columbus is mocking Flesher. Flesher grits his teeth and tries to continue walking to the back.

 

But he just... keeps... hearing...

 

"YOU'RE HIS BITCH! YOU'RE HIS BITCH!"

 

Finally, he gives in. He turns around and stalks back to the ring, staring up at Mak. He sets the belt back on the timekeeper's table, then slides back into the ring. Mak moves toward him, looking for a stomp, but thinks better of it. Grinning at Flesher, Francis baits him to the center for a lockup. Flesher steps in, angry at Mak for the obvious disrespect being shown. A few fans continue the "YOU'RE HIS BITCH!" chant, but mostly they just watch the match as the two fired-up workers circle each other. Suddenly...

 

CRACK!!!!! (WHOO!)

 

Mak nails Flesher in the chest with a chop! The strike isn't so much for pain, though it certainly hits the welts on Tom's chest, as much as to show Flesher who's boss. Flesher, frustrated, can't think fast enough to react before Mak chops him again.

 

CRACK!!!! (WHOO!)

 

"You know what, man?"

 

CRACK!!!! (WHOO!)

 

"You did NOT teach me everything I know!"

 

CRACK!!!! (WHOO!)

 

Flesher staggers backward, and Mak whips him to the ropes. As Tom rebounds, Mak catches him with a jumping knee to the gut. Flesher doubles over, and Mak immediately shoots his hands under to lock up a full nelson! He locks his hands behind Tom's neck, then pulls him back up to full height. After a moment of grandstanding, he sweeps Flesher's legs out from under him and strokes him to the mat with the Platinum Nightmare!

 

"That was Chris Wilson's move!" says Mark Stevens. "Chris Wilson taught Mak Francis the Platinum Nightmare, and that's the move that Mak used to beat Thoth in their first match! Now we can only see if he goes for the Finishing Touches..."

 

"This is NOT FAIR! It's clearly unsportsmanlike! Tom Flesher was prepared to wrestle Mak Francis doing Mak Francis's moves, not Mak Francis doing Chris Wilson's moves! He should be thrown right out of the building!!!!"

 

"Oh, don't get your thong in a knot."

 

Flesher lays on the mat face down, and Mak gets back to his feet. He looks down at his mentor for a moment, seeming to think about what to do next...

 

He bends down and grabs Flesher from behind. Standing all the way up, Mak throws his mentor backward in a German suplex, but keeps the grip. Flesher hits the mat hard, but before he can react, Mak retightens the grip and rolls over. He tightens the waistlock once more, and then lifts Flesher up once again. He arches back, then throws Flesher back to the mat. Tom impacts on his shoulders, but Mak still maintains his grip. Flesher can be seen gritting his teeth and trying to hug the mat as best he can. Still, Mak crouches down for extra explosiveness, tightens the grip, and with a loud kiai, arches backwards. He releases his grip in mid-air, and Flesher actually does a full flip in the air before landing on his stomach! The crowd pops for Mak, who shakes out his arms after the fatiguing series. Flesher, meanwhile, just holds his back on the mat.

 

"Tom Flesher may be injured," says Mark Stevens gravely. "Mak Francis has been intermittently working his back, and Flesher's back isn't in great shape to begin with. Mak more or less has his pick of any submission he wants to make Flesher tap right now."

 

"Oh, shove it, Stevens. You know as well as I do that Flesher hadn't tapped out yet, and he never will!"

 

"Never say never, Bobby... Mak hasn't tapped here either, and right now it's looking a hell of a lot more likely that he's going to come out on the winning side."

 

Mak Francis looks down at his mentor. "One can only imagine," says Mark Stevens, "what's going through the Franchise's head right now. He looks down to the mat, and he sees the man who helped him get where he is today. I think even Mak would admit that he looked up to Flesher... and now he's just about to strip the ICTV Title off of his teacher's waist. I can't even BEGIN to fathom what he must be thinking right now." Mak sighs, then decides what he has to do. "Do you see the look in Mak's eyes? He knows he's the new paradigm. He's about to take the belt off a man nobody thought he could beat!"

 

Mak leans down and yanks Flesher up by his tender left arm. He pulls Tom to his feet, and then locks on a front facelock. With his free hand, he motions to the crowd for support, shouting, "GIMME SOME LOVE!" The crowd obligingly begins to cheer, some even starting up a "FRANCHISE! FRANCHISE!" chant. "And how Mak's won the crowd over," says Grand Slam. "He came in here with no one thinking he could win, and now he's about to take the match home! He's going to label Flesher with the Franchise Tag, and NO ONE has kicked out of the Franchise Tag!"

 

"Flesher's got an 18-inch neck, though," Riley says, obviously trying to reassure himself.

 

"Yeah, and Mak's got really well-developed legs. That doesn't mean he can take a figure-four and laugh about it."

 

With the crowd absolutely electric for the imminent changing of the guards, Mak ducks down and slings Flesher's arm over his head, then snags his leg and pulls it into position for a fisherman's suplex. He lifts Flesher up... but Flesher grapevines the near leg with the leg left free in the fisherman's position. Mak sets him back down, but before he can try for the Franchise Tag again, Flesher works his head out of the front chancery. With Mak still holding his leg off the met, Flesher looks his protege in the eye for one quick second before he jumps up on his free leg and shifts his weight, swinging the leg out and using it to clip Mak's knees out in a classic freestyle cutback. Mak lands on his back and releases Flesher's leg, then rolls through and immediately comes back to his feet. Flesher steps away, sweating, looking absolutely emaciated not only by the length but also by the effort and emotional import of the match. "We're nearing the 40-minute mark here," says Stevens, "and both of these men have to be completely drained. They're working each other like they've never been worked before, and yet, somehow, Mak Francis is still hanging in there! Not only that, but for much of the match, he's been on top!"

 

"Flesher's in great shape, though," points out Riley. "And in a match like this, you always have to give the edge to the crafty veteran, even BEFORE you consider the fact that he really fills that singlet out well."

 

"... what?"

 

"Oh, nothing."

 

As Mak gets back up, Flesher sees an opening and takes it, charging at him with his boot up for a Yakuza kick. Mak turns around to see it just in time to take the impact fully in the face. Mak falls to the mat, and Flesher drops down onto him, too tired and shaken to do much else. Rick Spicer counts

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THR- NO! Kickout from Mak Francis! Flesher backs away, shaking out his tired, sore muscles. Mak does largely the same thing on the mat, stretching out and cracking various joints before he gets back to his feet. They look each other over, battered, bruised and broken. "Look at these workers," says Mark Stevens. "They're so worn out, so beaten... and yet they fight on."

 

"How oddly poetic of you."

 

"Why thank you, Bobby."

 

"I can be poetic too."

 

"Oh god."

 

"There once was a-"

 

Thankfully, Bobby shuts up just as Mak and Tom lock up. Sweaty, Tom and Mak grapple. Just as they did at the beginning of the match, with just as much spirit if not as much strength, each man jockeys for position. "They've taken such a beating!" says Grand Slam. "They just keep coming back for more!"

 

Flesher steps forward with a stiff palm strike that catches Mak hard in the face. Mak responds with....

 

CRACK!!!! (WHOO!)

 

... but Flesher absorbs the blow! He grits his teeth and, out of sheer willpower, refuses to acknowledge the chop, instead throwing another hard right-handed palm to hit Mak's jaw! Mak staggers backwards, and desperately, Flesher steps forward and nails him again! With Mak subdued, Flesher finally takes a moment to clutch his red, raw chest. Before too long, though, he forces himself to continue, powered by sheer hatred and a desire to put the rookie in his place.

 

Flesher grabs Mak by the wrist and whips him to the ropes. Mak rebounds, and Flesher catches him as he runs with a Railgun suplex! Mak hits with a thud, and Flesher rolls onto him for

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THR- NO!!! Make gets his shoulder up at the last minute, and Flesher stays on him. He reaches around the head and arm and locks on a crossface, then maneuvers his legs across Mak's, stretching him into an STF! Flesher pulls back on Francis' head and neck as hard as he can, cranking the stepover toehold. Mak winces, trying as best he can to grit his teeth and deal with the pain. "Tom Flesher is obsessed with making Mak Francis tap," says Mark Stevens. "He's been working the whole match for it, and sure, he'll take a pin if it pops up, but he wants to make Mak tap! He wants to put Mak in his place!"

 

"Fucking ungrateful rookie! Do you blame him?"

 

Mak slowly pulls himself toward the ropes. Flesher, by the look on his face, seems accepting of the idea that Mak will eventually break the STF, but continues to crank it anyway. "He's making Mak carry all of his weight," says Stevens. "He's only using three limbs to pull himself to the ropes, and Flesher is continuing to twist his body completely out of joint!" Mak inches closer and closer to the ropes, with Flesher holding the STF but mostly relaxing as Mak carries his weight. The Franchise finally reaches the bottom rope and wraps his hand around it. Flesher keeps the hold on and lays on top of Mak as Rick Spicer counts, ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! and Flesher finally breaks the hold.He gets up and backs away as Mak Francis pulls himself to his feet using the ropes. Mak turns around, and immediately, Flesher grabs him in a bear hug. With a high arch, Flesher throws Mak overhead and nails a second Railgun suplex! Instead of covering Mak, though, Tom backs off. He leans on the ropes, smirking, and waits for the Franchise to get to his feet.

 

"What's he doing?" asks Riley. "He should go for the Boilermaker and put that son of a bitch out of his misery!"

 

"I have a feeling he's got plans for Mak," says Stevens gravely. "It's not going to be good."

 

Mak pushes himself up, with Flesher still on the side, watching arrogantly. When the Franchise finally gets to his feet, Tom stomps over and grabs him from behind in a standing waistlock. He places his head under Mak's arm and arches back, throwing Mak to the mat with a backdrop suplex! "Not the standard backdrop driver we're used to from Flesher," says Stevens. "Perhaps he's using this as a setup move."

 

 

Nope.

 

 

Flesher keeps his waistlock and rolls over, then lifts Mak up to a standing position. With another huge effort, Flesher arches backward and slams Francis to the mat onto his back again. Mak lands with a thud, and Flesher holds onto the waistlock as he rolls over again. With the wind knocked completely out of Mak, Tom yanks his protege back up to his feet, then arches back AGAIN! He slams Mak Francis to the mat with a third rolling backdrop suplex, and Mak lands with a huge grunt on impact. Flesher STILL keeps his lock and rolls over, once again yanking Mak to his feet. He takes a deep breath, then arches back for the fourth time, angling Mak up to land on the back of his neck in a vicious backdrop driver! Mak flips all the way over, settling on his stomach as Flesher lays on his back for a moment to collect his thoughts and get his wind back.

 

"Rolling backdrop suplexes, culminating in a backdrop driver! How do these guys do it?!" marvels Mark Stevens. Bobby Riley, however, is pondering something entirely different...

 

"How the hell is Mak still BREATHING?!"

 

Well, maybe not all THAT different. In any event, Flesher slowly gets to his feet, sweating and breathing hard. He goes over to the nearest turnbuckle and, slowly, climbs to the top rope. Each turnbuckle takes what seems like hours to mount, and finally, Flesher turns toward the center of the ring. He slowly raises his arms to the sky, to an absolute chorus of boos from the crowd. Still, despite the hatred the Columbus fans feel for Flesher, despite their undying support for Mak Francis, thousands of flashbulbs go off as Flesher stands on the top rope, arms in the air. Just as many go off as he leaps off the top turnbuckle, floating through the air, arms out for balance, aiming to drive his head into Mak Francis for the pin.

 

Even more go off when Mak rolls out of the way, capturing Tom's expression which can best be described as, "... fuck." Francis, probably not even aware that Flesher was going for the flying headbutt, slides out of the ring just in time for Tom to land face-down on the mat. He hits so hard that he actually bounces a few inches, then painfully rolls to his back holding his head. Mak groggily crawls back in, and, not quite sure what to do, crawls on top. Rick Spicer counts

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THRE- NO!!!!! Flesher gets his shoulder up at the last second, and Mak gets to his knees. He pauses, not quite sure what to do. Flesher idly rolls to his stomach, trying to get away from Mak. Mak responds by grabbing Flesher's left arm and slapping on a Fujiwara armbar, to a pop from the Nationwide Arena capacity crowd.

 

"Mak Francis is going back to the work that got him this far in the match," says Mark Stevens, "and that's working over Tom Flesher's arm."

 

Flesher winces, feeling his left arm being torqued. He does his best to scoot over to the sidelines, but Mak continues twisting the arm, pressuring the shoulder, and trying to hack the arm off and take it home with him. Finally, failing any other legitimate course of action, Tom spins out to the front and takes the pressure off his arm. He stands up, facing Mak, and throws a palm strike. Mak slips his head back, though, and dodges the shotei to a loud pop from the Columbus crowd! He wrenches the arm, then pulls Flesher in for short-arm clothesline that gets another massive pop from the crowd! With that, Mak drops an elbow into Flesher's shoulder, and Tom recoils and rolls away! Mak moves toward him and drops down with an elbow, but Flesher rolls out of the way. Mak hits but comes back to his feet quickly, just as Tom gets to his feet. Mak refuses to give up the momentum he had earned, though, even after missing the elbow drop. He grabs Flesher by the wrist and whips him into the corner. Then, reminiscent of Flesher's own setup, Mak charges in immediately after him to set up a Yakuza kick! The Superior One, acting mostly on instinct, drops to his knees just before he hits the corner. Mak, unable to stop his charge, kicks the turnbuckle right over Flesher's head! He takes a moment to reposition himself, and in that time, Flesher gets back up to his feet. Just as Mak turns around...

 

BAM! Flesher nails him with a Yakuza kick of his own! He looks down at the rookie and smirks, then walks away, dusting his hands.

 

"Tom Flesher, showing nothing but arrogance," says Mark Stevens. "I can hardly believe that in the condition he's in right now, he's not going for the pin!"

 

"Eh, he's got it all over Mak... especially since Mak missed the Yakuza kick that Flesher taught him. His head's GONE now, as if it was ever there to begin with. He's a pawn."

 

Mak pulls himself up using the ropes, looking very much like a toddler taking his first steps. Flesher, waiting patiently, keeps his gaze firmly on Mak. As soon as Mak staggers out of the corner, Flesher steps forward and grabs him in position for a backdrop suplex. He lifts Mak up and arches backwards....

 

BUT MAK ROLLS OVER THE BACK AND LANDS ON HIS FEET BEHIND TOM! The crowd pops massively as Mak, seeming to act entirely on instinct, nails Flesher in the back of the neck with an elbow, then locks on an inverted side headlock. In one quick motion, he drops to his knees and snaps Flesher across the back in the 3.0!! "That neckbreaker was WAY Above Average!" shouts Stevens, marking appropriately. "Mak Francis nails an across-the-back neckbreaker, and it looks like it's all over for Tom Flesher!"

 

Meanwhile, Bobby Riley simply prays... "God, if Tom Flesher wins this match, I promise to build several churches in your honor and recommend you to all my friends."

 

Francis shoves Flesher to the mat in a heap and covers him. Rick Spicer counts

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!

 

 

 

 

NO!!!!!!!!!! Spicer waves off the pin, pointing to Flesher's foot draped over the bottom rope! The crowd lets out a collective "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" as Mak gets up and backs away. This time, Flesher slowly pulls himself to his feet, and turns around just in time to see Mak charging at him for a Yakuza kick! Flesher ducks, and Mak misses the kick for the second time in less than two minutes! Riley shouts, "Now THAT'S demoralizing!!!!" as Flesher turns around and backs away. Mak steps to the center for a lockup, but Flesher anticipates him, thinking two moves ahead, and catches Mak mid-step with an Irish whip. Mak bounces off the ropes, and Flesher steps forward to nail him with a palm strike... BUT MAK DODGES!!!! "Oh my god!" shouts Grand Slam as the crowd pops like crazy. "He's got Flesher figured out! The rookie is about to take this one home!"

 

Mak grabs Flesher's left arm and hooks his heel behind Flesher's, looking for the standing variation of the cross armbreaker Mercury showed him. He tries to trip Flesher, but the Superior One maintains his balance, stepping wildly and grabbing Mak's body or anything in sight to keep his footing. The crowd cheers every second, hoping that Mak can trip his mentor to the mat and lock on the hold that will win him the match and the ICTV Title. Finally, Tom stiffs Mak with a palm strike to the jaw, stopping the hold short and stunning the exhausted Franchise. He spins Mak around, then locks him up in position for a backdrop suplex. He lifts Mak up, but instead of arching backwards, Tom spins around a full 360 degrees, finally sitting out and slamming his opponent to the mat with a Blue Thunder Bomb! The crowd bursts into a chorus of boos as Rick Spicer counts

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

NO!!!!! Flesher breaks the pin himself!!!!! "What the hell is he doing?!" demands Mark Stevens. "Flesher just gave up that pin for no reason!"

 

"Oh, come on, Mark, you and I both know you're smarter than that... wait and see what he does next."

 

Flesher stands up, grabs Mak by the ankles and drags him to the center of the ring. Pausing for a moment to gloat, Flesher looks down at Mak and says, "You'll never... ever... EVER be as good as me, little man." He crosses Mak's legs, and then steps over, turning Mak onto his belly and locking up the Superior Stretch!

 

"He's going to make Mak tap!" says Riley gleefully. "Tom Flesher is going to get Mak Francis to give up his first submission ever!"

 

Mak's face shows intense pain. He looks around, desperate to break the hold. "Mak Francis has nowhere to go," shouts Riley. "NOWHERE!" Mak tries to crawl to the ropes, but he simply can't drag his own body weight, plus Flesher's, halfway across the ring. Mak turns his head several times, surveying every option. Nothing. He tries to kick his legs out to break the hold with sheer strength. Nothing. Finally, in absolute agony, Mak extends his arm and, looking sadly at Rick Spicer...

 

TAP

 

TAP

 

TAP!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

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

 

 

As Flesher releases the hold and stands up, Funyon announces, "Your winner, and STILL SWF Intercontinental-Television Champion, TOM FLESHER!!!!!!!" Rick Spicer raises Flesher's arm, but the absolutely emaciated Flesher still has one thing on his mind.

 

He turns around, then looks down at Mak Francis, who crawls to the corner and sits, head in his hands. Flesher grabs the microphone.

 

"Mak Francis... I just want to tell you, you did an admirable job in the ring tonight, especially against someone as plainly superior as I am. Folks, can we get a hand for Mak Francis?"

 

The crowd obligingly applauds Mak Francis, with a few starting up a token "FRANCHISE! FRANCHISE!" chant. Flesher almost immediately motions for them to quiet down, though, and continues speaking. "Now, Mak... it's a shame that you didn't just forfeit the match like I told you to. But you know what? It was good for both of us. You see, Mak, I retained my title and got a feather in my cap. Yup, I made the Franchise tap out, which no one has ever done before. And you? Well, Mak, you learned a lesson in humility. Am I right?"

 

The fans' cheers quickly switch to boos as Grand Slam, appalled, asks, "What the hell does Flesher stand to gain? Why is he doing this?"

 

"He's putting the rookie in his place! Don't you know anything?"

 

Flesher continues. "Mak Francis, I came out here to teach you one thing. Respect for your elders. Now, if you know what's good for you, you'll shake my hand and admit that you learned a lesson in respect tonight."

 

Francis looks up at Flesher as if Tom had asked permission to fuck his girlfriend. "What the fuck are you talking about?!"

 

The end of the match go cut off...

[Guest BA_Baracus]

“...so if you haven’t already, get on the phone and order “Exploding for Dummies” by me, the Exploding Chicken! KABOOM!!” shouts the Chicken excitedly, before muttering “Suckers.”

 

The camera quickly cuts away from the combustible poultry, immediately switching to a shot of the inside of the Nationwide Arena, filled to the brim with beer-swigging, Wolverine-hating, sign-flailing Ohioans! As “All My Life” by the Foo Fighters hits the speakers for the thousandth time tonight, the camera quickly pans the audience, working them into a frenzy before the evening’s Main Event. Some of the said signs include such brilliant sayings “JD roolz doodz!” and “Misty is hot!” and “Bad Guys Suck!” After a few seconds, the shot switches to Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley, seated behind their announce desk and arguing ferociously about something.

 

“And I don’t know how you can disagree with me, Stevens!” shouts Riley. “Milli Vanilli was easily the greatest musical duo ever!”

 

“Yeah, right up there with the Osmonds.” Responds Stevens, sarcastically.

 

“Exactly!” beams Riley. “I’m glad you get my point.”

 

Stevens audibly sighs before turning to the camera and addressing the crowd. “I’ll try and keep myself from smacking Riley, folks, but in the meantime, I’d like to welcome each and every one of you to our Main Event! In mere moments, the World Champion Sacred will defend his Title against the man he defeated for the Championship, El Luchadore Magnifico, in a No-DQ match! Anything goes, but falls must be inside the ring!”

 

“And may I say, it’s about damn time Sacred won the Championship!” declares Riley. “We’ve seen him struggle beneath the proverbial glass ceiling for far too long, and now is his time to shine! Sacred cements his reputation as a big player and respectable Champion tonight, as he destroys Magnifico for the third time in less than two months!”

 

“Sacred certainly has come a long way to get here,” adds Stevens, “And while I am proud of him for finally realizing his goals, the way he has achieved them is inexcusable. He has viciously attacked his peers for little to no reason and basically isolated himself from everyone on the roster.”

 

“And there’s a problem with that?” questions Riley. “Sacred’s just expressing his individuality!”

 

“Sure he is.” Stevens replies. “Regardless, I’ll be solidly behind Magnifico tonight, and I believe he has a good chance of winning. After all, it was one year ago, at Dissention 2001, when ELM defended the World Title against the King of Hearts in a terrific 2 out of 3 falls match. Magnifico has the experience, the willpower, and the determination to come out on top tonight.”

 

“And what is Sacred, chopped liver?!” shouts Riley. “There’s a reason he’s the Champ, Stevens; ‘cause he beat Magnifico!! And there’s nothing stopping him from doing it again!”

 

“Well, you have a point there,” admits Stevens, “So why don’t we just get this started and found out who’s right?”

 

“Yes, let’s.” responds Riley. “I’ll be happy to prove you wrong, bucko.”

 

Stevens rolls his eyes. “Right. Let’s turn it over to Funyon and get this World Championship match started!"

 

The camera cuts away from the bickering announcers and focuses on the center of the ring, where Funyon stands, decked out, as always, in his neatly-pressed tuxedo. Suddenly, a Mexican voice comes over the speakers, shouting “UNO! DOS! TRES! CUATRO!” as a burst of pyro shoots upwards from each turnbuckle in conjunction with each shouted word. The fans immediately jump to their feet and begin cheering their hearts out, nearly drowning out “Mission Trip to Mexico” by Bunch of Believers. El Luchadore Magnifico finally bursts out from behind the curtain, waving his Mexican Flag proudly and wearing a grin a mile wide. Magnifico pauses at the top of the ramp, holding his flag high in the air as thousands of flashbulbs bathe him in lights.

 

“The following is a No-DQ Match scheduled for one fall, and it is for the SWF World Heavyweight Title!” announces Funyon, pausing momentarily before continuing. “Introducing first, from Mexico City, Mexico, weighing in at 190 pounds...El Luchadoooooorre Magnificooooooo!!”

 

Upon hearing his name, ELM bounds down the ramp, slapping fans’ hands as his flag flaps wildly above him. Magnifico approaches the ring and slides beneath the bottom rope, pops to his feet, and hops onto the nearby second turnbuckle, where he resumes his flag-waving to suck a little more heat from the crowd. After a few seconds, Magnifico hops off of the turnbuckle, hands the flag to the ref, and begins stretching in the middle of the ring. “Mission Trip to Mexico” fades out, leaving an uncomfortable feeling of dread in the arena as the fans await the next entrance. Suddenly, the screen turns fuzzy, as a "Kzzht" sound is heard in the background. Everything turns black and white, while pictures of Sacred and him doing his moves can faintly be seen in the background. After about 5 seconds of technical difficulties, the camera slowly zooms in on the entranceway Everything is still black and white, as "Save Yourself" By Stabbing Westward kicks up. Sacred walks out, clutching the World Title in his hand, drawing an ungodly amount of booing as he comes into view.

 

“And now, from Adelaide, Australia, weighing in at 231 pounds, he is the SWF World Heavyweight Champion...Saaaaaaaacred!!” announces Funyon.

 

Sacred stands there in the center of the entranceway, his arms slowly coming up from his sides until they are outstretched, showcasing the World Title and annoying the crowd even further. Sacred breaks his pose and starts heading down the ramp, ignoring everything around him as he approaches the ring. He reaches the squared circle and steps up onto the apron, before climbing into the ring, glaring at Magnifico the entire time. ELM gladly returns the glare as Sacred hands the World Title to the ref. Sacred and Magnifico stand on opposite sides of the ring, focused on nothing but each other, as the ref steps forward and thrusts the World Title in the air, signaling its defense. He then signals for the bell, beginning the match as the over-excited crowd murmurs noisily.

 

DING DING DING

 

“And here we go!” exclaims Stevens. “Regardless of the result, this is sure to be a great match, as both men have plenty at stake. Sacred could lose his World Title just three weeks after capturing it, while Magnifico has the chance to become only the second person to win the World Title three times! You can be sure that neither man will give anything less than his best tonight.”

 

“Gee, I wonder why?” ponders Riley. “Maybe it’s because...they’re FIGHING EACH OTHER AND DON’T WANNA LOSE?!”

 

“Possibly.” Admits Stevens, smiling.

 

“Wonderful.” Replies Riley, sighing to himself.

 

As the ring of the bell echoes throughout the inside of the arena, Magnifico and Sacred suddenly break their glare and begin circling each other around the ring, approaching the center of the squared circle as they do so. Once they are within arm’s reach of each other, ELM and Sacred lunge forward at one another, locking up in the center of the ring. They struggle back and forth for a moment, vying for control, until Sacred suddenly pulls Magnifico into a Headlock and wrenching on the luchadore’s neck. ELM deals with this for a few seconds, before shoving Sacred violently from behind, sending the Aussie rushing across the ring and towards the far ropes. Sacred bounces off of the ropes and rushes back towards Magnifico, and as he approaches, he throws his shoulder forward, slamming it into ELM’s chest and knocking him to the ground with a Shoulderblock! As Magnifico lays flat on the mat, Sacred breaks towards the ropes once again, but as he bounces off, ELM suddenly rolls towards him, forcing the Aussie to jump over him! Sacred lands and continues running, heading for the opposite ropes as Magnifico pops to his feet. Sacred bounces off and rushes back towards Magnifico, and as he approaches, the luchadore leaps straight up into the air, his legs extended for a Hurricanrana! However, Sacred manages to duck beneath Magnifico as he runs, then stops himself and spins around, facing the luchadore’s back just as he lands. Before ELM can turn around, Sacred wraps his arms around the luchadore’s stomach, trapping him in a Rear Waistlock! Sacred immediately lifts Magnifico into the air as if for a German Suplex, but as he’s lifting, the luchadore suddenly throws his legs back and dives forward, grabbing Sacred’s legs as he does so! Magnifico then flips forward, dragging Sacred downwards and pinning him to the mat with a Rollup! Sacred struggles wildly beneath ELM’s hold as the ref slides into position and begins counting...

 

ONE...

 

TWO-No! Sacred suddenly draws his legs backwards, hooks them around Magnifico’s head, and then yanks them forward, sitting up as he jerks ELM down to the mat! The ref hastily restarts his count as Magnifico now struggles under Sacred’s rollup...

 

ONE...

 

TWO-No! Magnifico breaks free of Sacred’s hold, and both men immediately pop back to their feet. As they stand, both men turn towards each other and assume fighting stances, each ready for whatever the other might throw at him. The fans applaud the short exhibition appreciatively as Magnifico and Sacred break their poses and begin circling each other once again.

 

“That just shows you how evenly Sacred and Magnifico are matched.” Stevens points out. “Magnifico and Sacred are nearly equal in speed, meaning that they’re going to have to rely on something else to outdo their opponent.”

 

“Sacred has the crazy. That’ll probably help.” Chimes in Riley.

 

“Of course, the crazy. How could I have forgotten.” Responds Stevens, patronizingly.

 

“Hey buddy, I don’t really need you to make me look like an ass. I can do that by myself.” Announces Riley, proudly.

 

“Of course you can.”

 

Sacred and Magnifico approach each other and the center of the ring once more, and when they get close enough, ELM lunges forward, looking to lock up with the Champion. But as Magnifico lunges towards Sacred, the Aussie suddenly kicks his foot forward, slamming it into ELM’s stomach! A few boos float in from the crowd as ELM doubles over slightly, only to have Sacred grab him by the hair and pull him into good posture. Sacred then rears back with his arm before driving it forward, holding the arm sideways as it slams into ELM’s chest with a Knife-Edge Chop! A resounding SMACK! echoes throughout the arena as the fans obediently WHOOO! Sacred rears back once more and...CHOP! SMACK! WHOOO! As ELM chest starts turning a light shade of red, Sacred grabs him by the arm and whips him across the ring, sending Magnifico rushing towards the far ropes. ELM bounces off and dashes back towards Sacred, and as he approaches, the Aussie suddenly lashes out with his leg and spins around, aiming his foot directly at Magnifico’s face with a Roundhouse kick! However, ELM manages to hit the mat and roll beneath Sacred’s leg, before popping to his feet and turning to face Sacred as the Aussie spins around to face Magnifico. As Sacred turns, however, ELM rears his arm back, driving it forward with a Knife-Edge Chop as soon as the Aussie is facing him! Another SMACK! another WHOOO!, and another reddened chest as Magnifico rears back, drives his arm forward and...CHOP! SMACK! WHOOO! An excited pop rises from the stands as Magnifico grabs Sacred by the arm and attempts a whip. However, Sacred reverses it, before short-arming the luchadore, jerking Magnifico towards him and driving his knee forward, slamming it directly into Magnifico’s gut! A collective OHHH! rises from the fans as ELM stands doubled over in front of Sacred, his mouth gaped open in shock and pain.

 

“Ouch!” exclaims Stevens. “It seemed that ELM was attempting to copy Sacred’s attack move-for-move, but unfortunately for him, Sacred caught on and cut Magnifico off right after the Knife-Edge Chops.”

 

“And it serves Magnifico right, too!” adds Riley. “What business does he have acting like Sacred! He shouldn’t even be in the same ring with Sacred, let alone impersonate him!”

 

“Why shouldn’t Magnifico try copying a successful attac-?”

 

“BECAUSE IT’S SACRED’S!! Dammit, aren’t you paying ANY attention?”

 

Sacred begins pounding away at Magnifico’s back and shoulders, eventually knocking him down to one knee. With ELM kneeling in the center of the ring, Sacred breaks for the nearby ropes, bounces off, and rushes back towards Magnifico. As he approaches, Sacred dives into the air, sticking out his arm as he does so and clipping ELM’s right leg at the knee! The fans boo heartily as Magnifico, his support suddenly taken away, falls flat on his back, clutching his knee. Sacred pops to his feet and immediately begins to stomp away at said knee, connecting a good ten times as Magnifico uselessly tries to defend himself. Finished with the stomps, Sacred grabs ELM by his leg and drags him over to the nearby corner, placing Magnifico’s foot on the second turnbuckle. Sacred hits a few kicks on the bridged knee before climbing onto the second rope, standing above Magnifico’s leg. Sacred then falls off of the ropes, landing on ELM’s right leg Bonzai-Drop style! A concerned OHHH! rises from the stands as Magnifico cries out, freeing his leg and clutching it painfully as the fans begin to boo.

 

“Sacred already starting to work on Magnifico’s leg.” Notes Stevens. “No doubt a good strategy, considering both of Magnifico’s finishers require the heavy use of his legs.”

 

“Brilliant plan of attack, as per usual from Sacred.” Adds Riley smugly. “Any chance Magnifico had before is quickly flying out the window.”

 

While ELM is distracted by the shooting pain in his knee, Sacred hits the mat and rolls to the outside, stepping onto the floor next to the ringpost. Sacred then reaches out, grabs Magnifico by his right leg and drags him towards the corner so that his legs are on opposite sides of the ringpost. The Aussie pulls back Magnifico’s leg, away from the corner, before driving it forward, slamming his knee directly into the steel post! ELM cries out and quickly withdraws his leg, grasping his knee in pain as Sacred rolls back into the ring. He stands up, grabs Magnifico by the arm, and pulls the luchadore up to his feet. Sacred then uses his grip to whip ELM across the ring, sending him rushing towards the far corner with a slight limp. Before impact, Magnifico spins his body around so that he’ll land back first, and in doing so, gets a great view of Sacred charging towards him in a full sprint! As Sacred bears down on him, ELM throws his left foot into the air, driving it directly into his opponent’s face! Sacred turns away from Magnifico, surprised by the force of the blow, giving ELM a chance to hop onto the corner’s second turnbuckle! The second Sacred spins to face Magnifico, the luchadore leaps off of the turnbuckle and flies towards the Aussie, his arm extended for a Flying Clothesline! But before Magnifico can make contact, Sacred reaches out and grabs ELM by the leg and shoulder, before spinning and falling to the ground in one fluid motion, driving Magnifico into the mat with a Powerslam! Sacred immediately covers ELM after the counter, drawing the ref down to count...

 

ONE...

 

TWO...No! Magnifico kicks out at two and a half.

 

“Beautiful counter from Sacred!” gushes Riley. “Magnifico better get used to it, too. Like you said, Stevens, there’s no way ELM can out-speed Sacred in this match.”

 

“Maybe not,” contends Stevens, “But you must remember that this match is No-DQ. That adds a whole another element to this contest, and it’s one that could go in either man’s favor.”

 

“You mean Sacred’s favor!” shouts Riley. “He has much more experience in the Hardcore division than Sacred. Heck, I don’t think Magnifico has ever even been in a Hardcore match!”

 

Undaunted by the lack of a pin, Sacred quickly rises back to his feet, grabbing Magnifico’s hair in the process and painfully pulling the luchadore to his feet. Still gripping ELM’s scalp, Sacred heads over to the nearby corner and throws Magnifico’s head forward, driving it directly into the top turnbuckle! Sacred then releases the luchadore’s hair, allowing Magnifico to fall back-first into the corner, his head suddenly pounding in pain. With ELM leaning up against the corner, Sacred is able to get back to work on Magnifico’s right knee, stomping away at it wildly while holding the top rope for leverage. After Sacred lands about ten stomps, Magnifico suddenly lunges out of the corner and grabs Sacred by the hair, before spinning around and throwing him into the corner, back-first! The fans pop for the sudden change of fortune as ELM begins jabbing away at Sacred’s face, working it over with a series of quick punches. However, this burst of offense only lasts for a few seconds, as Sacred reaches out with his hand and claws Magnifico’s face, immediately stopping his attack! Sacred earns a good deal of heat for the cheap attack as ELM turns away from the corner, his hands on his face. With Magnifico distracted, Sacred is able to come up from behind him and grab the luchadore by his tights and the scruff of his neck! Sacred turns towards the ropes while holding Magnifico, takes a few steps back...and then charges forward, throwing ELM towards and through the ropes! ELM lands awkwardly on the outside, drawing a sympathetic OHHH! and quite a few boos from the fans. Sacred grins to himself before hitting the mat and rolling to the outside, following after Magnifico.

 

“Oh! This contest has spilled to the outside!” observes Stevens. “Now we’re going to see the No-DQ stip come into play, as both men may stay outside of the ring as long as they like!”

 

“Ah, but pinfalls must occur inside the ring, yes?” questions Riley.

 

“Yes, yes they do.” Responds Stevens cautiously.

 

“Well, I’m glad one of us caught that.” Remarks Riley with a wry smile. Stevens sighs for about the tenth time tonight in response.

 

Sacred steps out onto the floor as Magnifico tries to get back to his feet, reaching his hands and knees as Sacred approaches him. The Aussie looks down on ELM for a second, enjoying watching the luchadore struggle to his feet before him. Right as Magnifico is about to stand, however, Sacred grabs him by the arm and jerks him upwards, before using his grip to whip the luchadore across the floor and towards the far guardrail! ELM spins around just before collision, taking brunt of the impact on his back as Sacred suddenly breaks into a run and charges at the luchadore! As Sacred approaches, the luchadore takes a step forward and to the side, out of the Aussie’s path! Magnifico then uses his feet to trap Sacred’s ankles, tripping him forward with a Drop Toe Hold! And as Sacred’s falls, his face just happens to be in the path of the guardrail, which he smacks into on his way down! An impressed OHHH! rises from the fans along with a wave of cheers, as Sacred lays belly-down on the floor, his hands covering his face!

 

“Whoa! Magnifico hits a Drop Toe Hold out of nowhere, driving Sacred’s face directly into the steel guardrail!” shouts Stevens, excitedly.

 

Magnifico quickly gets back to his feet and begins stomping away at Sacred, landing five or six blows before reaching down and grabbing him by the arm, using his grip to pull Sacred to his feet. ELM then grabs Sacred by the back of the head and rushes towards the nearby post, pushing Sacred in front of him and slamming his forehead into the steel post! The Aussie falls onto his back, his hands over his forehead as the fans revel in his pain. With Sacred laying fairly motionless on the floor, Magnifico walks towards the nearby guardrail and hops onto it, struggling to keep his balance as half-drunk fans pat the luchadore all over his legs. Once ELM gains his balance, he leaps off of the guardrail, throwing his legs forward in mid-air and falling towards Sacred with a Guillotine Leg Drop! However, Sacred rolls out of the way just in time, leaving Magnifico to crash onto the floor BUTT-and leg first, drawing a cry of pain from the luchadore as Sacred slowly climbs back to his feet. As Sacred stands, he sees that Magnifico is still in his Leg Drop position, sitting on the floor while in slight shock from the pain. Not wasting a moment, Sacred immediately runs towards the luchadore, leaps into the air, and kicks out his legs, slamming his feet into Magnifico’s face with a Dropkick! A concerned OHHH! rises from the stands as Magnifico’s body snaps backwards from the force of the Dropkick, sending ELM to the mat as he covers his hands with his face.

 

“Yee hah!” shouts Riley. “How do you like it, Magnifico? The solidity of steel pales in comparison to the overall coolness of Sacred’s Dropkick-to-the-Face!”

 

“That made absolutely NO sense, Riley. You should be proud.” Comments Stevens.

 

“What can I say, it’s a gift.” Riley responds, humbly.

 

Sacred quickly gets back to his feet and resumes his stomping of Magnifico’s knee, hitting it a good ten times before grabbing ELM by the hair and painfully dragging him to his feet. Using his grip, the Aussie pulls Magnifico over to the ring and rolls beneath the bottom rope, before sliding in himself and covering the luchadore. The ref slides into position, starting his count as Sacred hooks Magnifico’s leg...

 

ONE...

 

TWO...No! Magnifico kicks out at two and a half, drawing a few cheers from the crowd. Sacred rolls off of the luchadore, rubbing his aching head, before standing up, grabbing Magnifico by the arm, and pulling him to his feet. Sacred then uses his grip to whip ELM across the ring, sending him rushing towards the far ropes. Magnifico bounces off and rushes back towards Sacred, and as he approaches, the Aussie grabs ELM around the stomach, lifts him into the air, and spins him around for a Tilt-a-Whirl Backbreaker! However, ELM manages to twist out of the Aussie’s grip in mid-air, slipping out of his arms and landing on his feet right in front of Sacred! The second he lands, Magnifico throws his foot out, booting Sacred in the gut and doubling him over slightly. ELM then applies a Front Headlock and throws Sacred’s arm over his shoulder, locking him in the Suplex position in the center of the ring! Magnifico pauses for a second, then begins to lift Sacred into the air! But as he’s lifting, Sacred struggles and kicks his legs wildly, forcing ELM to put him down! As soon as Sacred is back on the mat, he drives his knee forward, slamming it into Magnifico’s gut and forcing him to release the Aussie! ELM doubles over from the force of the blow, allowing Sacred to apply a grab Magnifico’s right arm and apply a Front Face Lock, setting him up for the Cruel Fate! The fans immediately begin to boo upon seeing this, only to switch to cheers when Magnifico grabs Sacred around the waist and begins charging forward, pushing Sacred in front of him like a rampaging bulldozer! Mr. Sacred’s wild ride ends when he crashes back-first into the corner, causing him to arch his back in pain upon impact.

 

“Dammit, so close!” gripes Riley. “Sacred was all ready to finish Magnifico off with the Cruel Fate, but SOMEBODY had to interfere!”

 

“Um, you mean Magnifico?” questions Stevens.

 

“Yeah! What’s his problem?” replies Riley.

 

ELM releases Sacred, stands up straight, and begins wailing away on the Aussie, bashing his face in with a series of quick punches! Magnifico lands about ten blows before grabbing Sacred around the waist, slowly lifting him into the air, and carefully sitting him on the top turnbuckle. ELM reaches up and lands another punch for good measure, then begins climbing up after Sacred, reaching the top rope within seconds. Magnifico stands on the top rope directly in front of Sacred, struggling to keep his balance as he does so. Suddenly, the luchadore hops into the air, hooks his legs around Sacred’s head, and then jerks them backwards, pulling Sacred off of the top rope and sending him down to the mat with a Frankensteiner! A rousing cheer rises from the stands as Sacred lands flat on his back, causing the ring to shake with the impact of the fall. Magnifico quickly crawls over to Sacred and covers him, hooking the leg as the ref slides into position and begins to count...

 

ONE...

 

TWO...No! Sacred kicks out at two and a half, silencing most of the cheers in the arena.

 

“Magnifico takes control of the match with a beautiful Hurricanrana.” Notes Stevens. “He’d better be careful, though, because Sacred can snatch it back in a split-second.”

 

“It’s not like Magnifico is making it any harder for Sacred.” Comments Riley. “I mean, Sacred has been using the whole match to work on ELM’s leg, and his first major offensive move uses only his legs! Not very clever.”

 

“I don’t know, Riley.” Contends Stevens. “It seems to me that Magnifico realizes what Sacred is doing, and wants to use his legs to the best of his ability before Sacred wears them down.”

 

Magnifico rolls off of Sacred and quickly gets back to his feet, shaking off the pain in his right leg as he walks back over to the corner. ELM quickly climbs onto the second turnbuckle and looks backwards towards Sacred, making sure he hasn’t moved yet. Once he confirms Sacred’s non-moving status, Magnifico hops onto the top rope, bounces off, and flies towards Sacred, flipping backwards in mid-air for a Springboard Moonsault! Thousands of flashbulbs go off, lighting up the inside of the arena as Sacred rolls out of the way, leaving Magnifico to crash into the mat, chest-first! A disappointed OHHH! rises from the stands as Sacred quickly gets back to his feet, standing as ELM lays motionless on the mat. Immediately upon seeing Magnifico, Sacred steps over to the luchadore, facing away from him, and grabs him by his right leg! Sacred then lifts ELM’s leg, tucks it beneath his arm, and arches it backwards, capturing the luchadore in a Single Leg Crab! Magnifico is jerked back to reality by the sudden shooting pain in his leg, crying out as Sacred wrenches on his leg! The ref gets in Magnifico’s face and asks if he wants to quit, only to receive an adamant “No!” for his troubles. ELM fights through the pain for a few seconds, struggling to collect his thoughts as Sacred applies even more pressure to the luchadore’s leg. Suddenly, Magnifico puts his head down and rolls forward, jerking his right leg forward as he does so! Sacred is pulled violently forward along with Magnifico’s leg, and is actually thrown through the ropes and to the outside! The fans cheer the unexpected reversal as Sacred lands flat on his back on the floor, lying motionless as Magnifico clutches his knee inside the ring.

 

“What a counter!” shouts Stevens. “But I’m afraid the damage has already been done. ELM would be crazy to try any more aerial maneuvers on that damaged right leg.”

 

Magnifico turns his attention away from his knee for a moment and rolls to the outside, stepping onto the floor as Sacred begins working his way to his feet. ELM heads over to Sacred, grabs him by the arm, and begins pulling him to his feet when Sacred suddenly drops down and throws his arm between Magnifico’s legs with a Low Blow! A well-deserved round of boos pours in from the audience as ELM doubles over, his mouth agape in shock as Sacred slowly stands up, looking quite angry with the luchadore. With Magnifico doubled over, Sacred applies a Front Face Lock and throws ELM’s arm over his shoulder, locking him in a Suplex hold. Sacred holds Magnifico in this position...and then suddenly snaps backwards, throwing ELM over him and driving him into the floor with a Snap Suplex! ELM arches his back in pain upon impact and reaches out to the sky helplessly as Sacred pops back to his feet, shaking off the less severe impact as he does so. Sacred heads back over to the luchadore, grabs him by the hair, and painfully begins pulling ELM to his feet. Leading Magnifico behind him, Sacred heads over to the ring post closest the announce table and throws ELM’s head forward to drive it into the steel post! However, Magnifico throws his arms up just in time, grabbing the steel post and blocking its collision with his head! Magnifico then takes his elbow and drives it backwards, slamming it directly into Sacred’s stomach and forcing him to release the luchadore’s hair! ELM then grabs Sacred by the head and turns the table on him, driving his forward and directly into the steel post! The fans cheer excitedly as Sacred’s head bonks off of post, causing him to stumble towards the announce table in a semi-stupor.

 

“Magnifico can be such a pest.” Growls Riley. “Doesn’t he realize that he’s only here to make Sacred look good?”

 

“He’ll probably realize that around the time you realize your worthlessness as a human being, Riley.” Contends Stevens sarcastically.

 

“Exactly! Wait, what?”

 

 

Sensing opportunity, Magnifico charges towards Sacred, looking to attack him from behind! But as he approaches, Sacred suddenly spins around and lashes out with his leg, driving it into Magnifico’s forehead and knocking him to the floor! ELM lays motionless on the mat as Sacred falls against the ring apron, holding his head in pain. After a few seconds, Sacred pushes himself off of the apron and storms over to the ring announcer area, making a beeline for Funyon! The poor announcer doesn’t even realize what’s happening until Sacred grabs him by his bow tie and tosses him aside, drawing a few sadistic cheers from the audience.

 

“Hey, c’mon Sacred!” shouts Stevens. “Your fight is with Magnifico, not Funyon!”

 

“Fuck you, Stevens!” replies Sacred angrily, before grabbing Funyon’s steel chair and folding it up.

 

“Well, I never!” says Stevens, shocked.

 

Chair in hand, Sacred heads back over to Magnifico, drawing a wave of anticipatory boos from the crowd. As Sacred approaches, ELM is on his hands and knees, climbing back to his feet and oblivious of Sacred’s presence. A grin coming over his face, Sacred lifts the chair high above his head...and then drives it downwards, slamming it directly onto Magnifico’s back with a ear-splitting WHACK! Magnifico cries out and falls onto the floor, arching his back in pain as the fans OHHH! in unison. As ELM lays motionless and face-down on the floor, Sacred drops the chair on the floor and folds it slightly open with one hand while grabbing Magnifico’s leg with the other. Sacred pulls ELM’s foot into and through the chair, pulling the steel seating device all the way up to the luchadore’s knee! Sacred then snaps the chair shut, trapping Magnifico’s knee, and hops onto the ring apron, looking quite pleased with himself. Sacred takes a moment to look out over the crowd, reveling in their hatred...before leaping off of the apron, dropping his feet onto the steel chair and snapping it into Magnifico’s knee! The luchadore cries out and writhes in pain, chorused by a collective wince from the fans. Sacred grabs the chair and pulls it off of Magnifico’s leg, before tossing in it unceremoniously into the ring. Sacred then grabs ELM by the arm and slowly pulls him to his feet, the luchadore struggling to keep up beneath his damaged leg. Once Magnifico is standing, Sacred rolls him into the ring, before rolling in himself and popping to his feet. Right after standing, Sacred heads over to the steel chair, picks it up, and sets up the chair in the middle of the ring as if he were to sit on it. Sacred then saunters back over to Magnifico as the luchadore pitifully tries to get back to his feet. Sacred takes a moment to chuckle at ELM’s misfortune, before grabbing him by the arm and pulling him to his feet. Magnifico puts up little resistance as Sacred pulls him towards the center of the ring before turning ELM around to face the steel chair. With Magnifico right in front of the chair, Sacred sticks head beneath the luchadore’s left arm and crosses ELM’s chest with his right, setting him up for the Spanish Inquisition!

 

“Oh my God!” remarks Stevens. “Sacred means to drive Magnifico directly through that chair with a Spanish Inquisition”

 

“Yeah! Magnifico doesn’t stand a chance of surviving this one!” adds Riley, excitedly.

 

The crowd immediately begins to boo and yell in anticipation of the attack as Sacred holds Magnifico in position, a devilish grin painted across the Aussie’s face. However, Sacred’s elation quickly turns to shock as Magnifico suddenly lifts his knee and drives it forward, slamming it directly into the Aussie’s gut! Sacred releases his grip as he doubles over in pain, allowing the luchadore to pull him into a Suplex position! Not wasting a moment, Magnifico grabs Sacred by his tights and lifts him into the air, holding the Aussie directly perpendicular to the steel chair! Magnifico then throws his body downwards, pulling his prey down with him and planting Sacred’s skull into the seat of the chair with a Brainbuster!! The fans cheer like mad as Sacred collapses onto the mat, right next to the now-bent steel chair! Meanwhile, Magnifico lays but a foot from him, severely exhausted and temporarily unable to make the cover.

 

“Whoa! Whoa!!” yells Stevens. “Magnifico reverses the Spanish Inquisition into a Brainbuster, driving Sacred into and THROUGH the steel chair! Incredible!”

 

“Bullshit! Complete luck!” shouts Riley, before growing a bit desperate. “C’mon Sacred, get up you crazy bastard!”

 

The fans begin to clap in unison, trying their best to motivate Magnifico to get the hell up and cover Sacred. Their clapping grows louder and faster with every second, coming to a head when Magnifico turns onto his stomach and begins crawling towards Sacred. The luchadore slowly approaches him...and drapes his body over Sacred’s chest, covering him to the great delight of the crowd! The fans pop wildly as the ref slides into position and begins counting...

 

ONE...

 

TWO...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR-Noo!! Sacred gets a shoulder up right before three, drawing a disappointed OHHHH! from the crowd. The ref holds up two fingers to show that, indeed, it was only a two count, as Magnifico rolls off of Sacred and stares up blankly at the arena’s lights.

 

“No! No!” bellows Stevens. “Magnifico took too long in making the pin, and missed victory by a split second!”

 

After a few seconds of motionless by both men, Magnifico turns onto his stomach and begins to slowly push himself to his feet, struggling to keep his right leg from collapsing beneath him. Magnifico eventually gets back to his feet, collapsing against the ropes the seconds he stands. As he lays against the ropes, breathing deeply, ELM sees Sacred begin pushing himself to his feet as well, one hand holding his head in pain as he does so. Magnifico eyes the steel chair in the ring, which is bent but still usable, and pushes himself off of the ropes to retrieve it. ELM grabs the steel chair and folds it up, holding it in his hands as Sacred continues to struggle to his feet. Magnifico slowly makes his way behind the Aussie, apparently preparing to wallop him in the near future. Sacred finally manages to stand, facing away from Magnifico as he pushes himself to his feet. Oblivious to the luchadore’s presence, a half-dazed Sacred turns around, only to come face-to-face with Magnifico! The luchadore takes a mighty swing...

 

...and hits nothing, as Sacred manages to duck beneath the steel chair! ELM spins around to face the Aussie, and as he does so, Sacred throws his foot out, booting the luchadore in the gut and forcing him to drop the chair! Sacred then grabs Magnifico by the head and jumps backwards into the air, sticking out his knee as he falls and slamming ELM’s skull into it with the RX Face Buster! The fans immediately begin to boo as Magnifico springs backwards off of Sacred’s knee and falls to the mat, stunned.

 

“Yes! Sacred breaks out the RX Face Buster to bash in Magnifico’s skull and finish him off!” shouts Riley, exuberantly.

 

Sacred remains on one knee for a moment, quite exhausted himself, before falling onto his hands and knees and beginning the crawl towards the motionless luchadore. The boos only intensify, as if the fans were trying to keep Sacred from covering through the power of their apathy. However, it doesn’t work, as Sacred eventually reaches Magnifico and drapes himself over the luchadore, making the cover! The ref slides into position and begins counting as the fans shout and boo wildly...

 

ONE...

 

TWO...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-Noo! Magnifico gets a shoulder up right before three, drawing a mighty pop from the fans! Sacred rolls off of the luchadore and slowly sits up, a combination of frustration and fury etched across his face.

 

“Another kickout!” declares Stevens. “The RX Face Buster is indeed powerful, but Magnifico managed to escape the pin just in time!”

 

Sacred just sits there for a second, breathing deeply, before slowly standing back up, leaving Magnifico laying motionless on the mat. As soon as he’s on his feet, Sacred heads over to the nearest corner and begins climbing it, much to the ire of the crowd. Sacred climbs rather slowly, but eventually makes it to the top turnbuckle, which he carefully stands up on, cautious to keep his balance. Sacred slowly turns away from the crowd and towards Magnifico, lining himself up with the luchadore as the fans boo in anticipation. Suddenly, Sacred leaps off of the top turnbuckle, extending his arms and legs in mid-air and crashing towards Magnifico with a Frog Splash! Thousands of cameras go off, forever capturing the image of ELM pulling up his knees, causing Sacred to land directly onto them! Sacred bounces off of the luchadore’s knees and unceremoniously falls to the mat, doubled over and clutching his gut in pain as the fans cheer wildly. After a few seconds of motionlessness from both men, Magnifico and Sacred begin slowly pushing themselves to their feet, pushed on by the crowd as they do so. ELM and Sacred both finally stand, facing each other as they do so! Sacred gets up a split-second earlier and approaches the luchadore, throwing a wild punch in his direction! However, Magnifico manages to block it and return with one of his own, beginning a flurry of punches that sends the crowd into a frenzy! ELM lands four punches in a row and is about to make it five, when Sacred catches the luchadore’s wrist in mid-punch! As he holds Magnifico’s wrist, Sacred delivers a boot to his gut, doubling ELM over! Sacred then wraps his free arm around Magnifico’s head in a Front Face Lock, setting him up once more for the Cruel Fate!

 

“About time!” declares Riley, gleefully. “Now, finish that dirty Mexican off so we can get out of here!”

 

Sacred pauses for a moment, drawing the energy needed for the move, and then begins to lift Magnifico into the air, ready to finish him off once and for all! But as Sacred is lifting, Magnifico suddenly wraps his foot around the Aussie’s ankle, preventing him from lifting the luchadore! Sacred tries again, but Magnifico keeps his foot wrapped around the ankle, refusing to let Sacred lift him! After the second attempt, ELM suddenly throws his fist into Sacred’s gut, repeating that action over and over until the Aussie finally relinquishes his grip on the luchadore! As soon as Sacred lets go, Magnifico wraps his other foot around the Aussie’s ankle and twists his body sideways, which snaps Sacred forward and sends him falling face-first towards the mat! On the way down, ELM shoots out his hands and locks them around Sacred’s face, trapping him in the Sangria Stretch as both men hit the mat! The fans go nuts as ELM wrenches back on Sacred’s head, putting undue pressure on his neck and causing Sacred to cry out in pain! The ref slides into position and asks if Sacred wants to quit, receiving a shouted “NO! for his efforts.

 

“Oh yeah! Magnifico counters out of the Cruel Fate once again, this time into the Sangria Stretch!” shouts Stevens.

 

“Maybe so, but how long do you think he can keep on this stretchy thing?” questions Riley. “His knee’s been shot to shit, and there’s no way it can hold for much longer!”

 

Sacred begins clawing at his hair, doing anything he can to distract himself from the pain as Magnifico practically screams at him to submit. Sacred cries out in pain once again and holds out his hand, which trembles violently in mid-air! Sensing a submission, the crowd’s cheers intensify as Sacred’s hand floats a foot over the mat, wavering helplessly as Magnifico tears apart the Aussie’s neck! Suddenly, Sacred drives his hand downwards and...

 

 

...stops right before hitting the mat, as ELM suddenly releases the hold! Magnifico rolls away from Sacred, clutching his knee as his face twists in pain. The Aussie lays face-down next to him, breathing deeply as his eyes stare off into nothingness.

 

“Hah, what’d I tell ya?” asks Riley, triumphantly. “I knew that pussy luchadore couldn’t stand the pain for much longer.”

 

“Name-calling aside,” counters Stevens, “This is very similar to what we witnessed when Magnifico’s leg gave out during his Genesis II match with Jay Dawg. Sacred obviously took that into account when he began working on Magnifico’s knee.”

 

ELM continues clutching his knee for a few more seconds, before slowly rolling towards and beneath the ropes and gingerly stepping to the outside. Magnifico lifts up the apron and kneels down, fumbling beneath the ring for something as the fans look on expectantly. After a few seconds, Magnifico finally grabs hold of something and begins to pull it out from beneath the apron. The fans burst into cheers when the object in question comes into sight, as ELM retrieves an eight-foot ladder from beneath the ring!

 

“Magnifico has a steel ladder!” cries Stevens. “The device that helped Magnifico capture two Light Heavyweight Championships is coming into play!”

 

Magnifico slowly stands up and grabs the ladder, hoisting it into the air and holding it to the side of his body as Sacred begins pushing himself to his feet. After a few seconds of struggling, the Aussie finally stands, facing away from Magnifico and oblivious to the luchadore’s presence. Sacred slowly turns around, coming face-to-face with Magnifico, apparently giving ELM the clue to drive the ladder forward, slamming the top of it directly into Sacred’s gut! A mighty pop rises from the stands, followed by an even mightier one as ELM lifts the ladder above the doubled over Sacred and drives it downwards, smacking it onto Sacred’s back and knocking him to his hands and knees! As Sacred kneels on his hands and knees, stunned, the luchadore drops the ladder, positioning it so that the top of it is beneath Sacred’s chin and so a little is hanging off the apron. Magnifico then hits the apron and rolls out of the ring, stepping to the outside and right next to the ladder. ELM grabs the portion hanging over with both hands, then looks out around the crowd with a huge grin on their face, knowing they’ll love what’s coming next. Magnifico suddenly pushes down on his side of the ladder, instigating a seesaw effect as the portion beneath Sacred is driven up and into the Aussie’s chin!! The force of the blow knocks Sacred backwards, causing him to fall to the mat back-first, his hand on his chin. The fans pop wildly for the unexpected spot as Sacred lays motionless on the mat, staring up blindly at the house lights.

 

“Woah-ho! ELM just seesawed the ladder into Sacred’s face, and is in complete control of this match!” declares Stevens.

 

“Bah, this isn’t a ladder match, you dirty luchadore! Why don’t you try some REAL wrestling?” challenges Riley.

 

“Like Sacred did with the steel chair?” questions Stevens.

 

“Yup, just like that.” Affirms Riley.

 

Magnifico rolls back into the ring and gets back to his feet, before heading over to the ladder and grabbing the bottom of it. ELM drags the steel climbing device towards Sacred, using one hand to hold it open while using the other hand to grab Sacred by the arm. Magnifico slowly drags Sacred between the legs of the ladder, laying him back-down on the bottom leg as the fans begin to cheer in anticipation. ELM then puts both hands on the ladder leg floating above Sacred, holds a few seconds for dramatic effect...and then drives it downwards, slamming it into Sacred’s chest and crushing him between the legs! The fans release a justified pop as Sacred cries out in pain and slowly slides off of the ladder, falling onto the mat back-first. Not one to waste such an opportunity, Magnifico kneels down and covers Sacred, hooking the leg as the ref slides into position...

 

ONE...

 

TWO...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR-Noo! Sacred gets a shoulder up at two and a half, silencing many of the cheers within the crowd.

 

“No! Sacred absorbs a brutal beating with the ladder, but still manages to kick out!” Stevens comments.

 

“And why the hell not?! Sacred’s not about to lay down for some crappy, flimsy, aluminum piece of junk!” shouts Riley.

 

“Bitter at ladders, are we Riley?” questions Stevens.

 

“I had...an experience with a ladder once. I’d prefer not to talk about it.” Confesses Riley, shifting his eyes as he speaks.

 

Magnifico rolls off of Sacred and slowly gets back to his feet, looking a bit frustrated at Sacred’s persistence to not lose. ELM pauses for a moment, before grabbing Sacred by the arm and slowly pulling him to his feet. The moment Sacred is on his feet, the luchadore suddenly twirls around to his back, applies a Rear Waistlock, and sticks his head beneath Sacred’s arm, setting him up for a Blue Thunder Powerbomb directly in front of the ladder! Magnifico lifts Sacred into the air, only to have the Aussie flip backwards over the luchadore’s shoulder in mid-air, landing on his feet right behind Magnifico! ELM spins around to face Sacred, only to have Sacred grab him by the leg and arm and lift him into the air as if for a Scoop Slam! But we soon find out that’s not the case, as Sacred suddenly drives ELM downwards, slamming the top of his skull into the ladder with a Michinoku Driver!!

 

“Wow! Yes! Yes!” shouts Riley. “That’s what I’m talking about! Sacred absolutely destroys Magnifico with a Michinoku Driver onto the ladder, and the match is good as his!”

 

The fans OHHH! sympathetically as Magnifico lays motionless on the ladder, his eyes closes and his chest heaving. Sacred, still in the sitting position from the Michinoku Driver, grabs ELM by the arm and slowly drags him off of the ladder, until the luchadore’s entire body is on the mat. Sacred then drapes his body over Magnifico’s chest, making the cover to the great displeasure of the crowd! Sacred lays motionless on the luchadore as the ref slides into position and begins counting...

 

ONE...

 

TWO...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRE-Nooo! Magnifico gets a shoulder up mere milliseconds before the three count, drawing a massive pop from the relieved fans!

 

“No! Not quite yet!” declares Stevens, just as relieved as the fans. “Magnifico is still in this!”

 

Sacred slowly rolls off of the luchadore, his face twisted in a mask of rage and frustration. He begins pushing himself back to his feet, pounding the mat and cursing to himself as he does so. Once Sacred is standing, he grabs the ladder and pushes it directly out of the ring, creating a resounding CLANG! upon impact. With the ladder out of the way, Sacred storms over to the side of the ring opposite Magnifico, turning towards the luchadore and waiting impatiently as he slowly begins pushing himself to his feet. As Sacred shouts at ELM to get up, using strong language and gesturing to get his point across, Magnifico finally rises, holding onto the ropes nearest the announce table for support. Unfortunately for the luchadore, he’s facing away from Sacred, and thus has no clue that the Aussie is charging directly towards him, his head bowed as he barrels across the ring. Magnifico turns around just in time to see Sacred jump into the air, throwing his entire body into ELM’s gut with a Kamikaze! The force of the attack drives Magnifico through the ropes and to the outside, followed by Sacred a split-second later! Both men crash onto the floor, their bodies wracked with pain, as the fans cheer appreciatively for the preceding spot.

 

“Oh yes!” cries Riley. “Sacred just drove Magnifico through the ropes and to the outside with a Kamikaze!”

 

“An impressive move to be sure,” comments Stevens, “but I think Sacred has made a grave mistake and allowed his anger to get the best of him! Pinfalls can only be counted inside the ring, meaning that he must get Magnifico back inside to get the win!”

 

Sacred and ELM lay motionless on the outside as the fans continue cheering, itching for a little more action between the two. After a few seconds, Sacred begins to stir and starts pushing himself to his feet while Magnifico still declines to move. Finally, Sacred stands, collapsing against the ring apron as he looks down on Magnifico with untold hatred. Suddenly, Sacred pushes himself off of the apron and heads over to the Spanish announce table, pulling off the top frame and the mini-TVs and tossing them aside as Luis and Manuel curse at him incoherently. Ignoring the rapid Spanish, Sacred walks back over to Magnifico, grabs him by the hair, and begins slowly pulling him to his feet, receiving no resistance from the limp luchadore. Once Magnifico is standing, Sacred leads him over to the announce table and rolls him onto is as Manuel and Luis split. The Aussie then climbs up onto the table itself, the somewhat-flimsy wooden device creaking under both men’s weight. Sacred grabs ELM by hair and pulls him to his feet once again, holding the helpless luchadore on top of the table as the fans begin booing in anticipation. Suddenly, Sacred pulls Magnifico beneath his left arm, trapping him in a Front Headlock, before grabbing his right arm and setting the luchadore up for the Cruel Fate! The fans’ booing suddenly intensify as Sacred holds Magnifico in position, a sadistic grin on his face.

 

“No! No! Sacred, stop this!” pleads Stevens. “Now you’re just trying to hurt him! And you could very well break Magnifico’s neck with an attack like that!”

 

“Isn’t that the point?” questions Riley, curious.

 

“NO!”

 

“Okay, okay! No need to get antsy.”

 

After stalling for a second or two, Sacred looks down on the luchadore, seemingly ready to finish him off. Sacred begins to lift Magnifico into the air...but suddenly stops, as the luchadore throws his foot between Sacred’s legs, blasting him with a blatant Low Blow! The fans, oddly enough, cheer wildly as Sacred immediately releases the luchadore and falls to one knee, his body suddenly racked in pain. Magnifico grabs Sacred by his hair and pulls him to his feet, before capturing the Aussie in a Suplex position! ELM then throws Sacred’s arm over his shoulder, grabs the Aussie’s leg, and finally hooks it, setting him up for the Barrio Buster! The fans somehow cheer louder as Magnifico, not wasting a second, starts lifting Sacred into the air, struggling to get him over! ELM finally manages to lift Sacred over his head and immediately falls downwards, aiming Sacred’s skull towards the announce table! Magnifico makes perfect contact with the Fisherman Buster, slamming Sacred’s head into the top of the table as it collapses!! Both men tumble to the ground in a heap, lying amidst the ruins of the announce table as the fans gleefully cheer “HO-LEE SHIT! HO-LEE SHIT!”

 

“Dear lord almighty!” shouts Stevens, apparently channeling JR. “ELM drives Sacred through the Spanish announce table with a Barrio Buster! Incredible!”

 

“Pfft, it wasn’t that great. Where’s the gratuitous blood and missing limbs, huh?” questions Riley.

 

Neither man moves for several seconds until Magnifico finally begins to stir, beginning the long struggle to his feet as he pushes off of a chunk of broken table. ELM rises rather slowly, but finally reaches his feet, standing as Sacred remains motionless on the floor. Magnifico reaches down, grabs Sacred by the arm, and slowly pulls the Aussie to his feet, who is nothing but dead weight at this point. Eventually, Magnifico gets Sacred to stand and leads him towards the ring, rolling him beneath the bottom rope and into the ring. Sensing an imminent pinfall, the fans begin to cheer once again as Magnifico rolls in after Sacred. However, those cheers are suddenly converted to bitter booing as the crowd catches sight of Jay Dawg, bursting out from behind the curtain and charging down the ramp at a full sprint!

 

“Now what the hell is HE doing here?!” questions Stevens.

 

“Isn’t it obvious, Mark? JD is here to extract revenge on Magnifico for his despicable actions at the Genesis II! ELM is getting what’s coming to him!” responds Riley.

 

As he approaches the ring, Magnifico drags Sacred away from the ropes and finally covers him, draping his body over Sacred’s chest for the pin! The ref slides into position and begins counting as JD comes ever closer to the ring. ..

 

ONE...JD slides beneath the bottom rope...

 

TWO...JD pops to his feet and charges towards Magnifico...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRE-Nooo!! JD stomps on ELM’s back right before the three count, instigating a wave of pissed-off boos from the crowd!

 

“No! Goddammit!” shouts Stevens. “Magnifico was this close to winning when JD, who has no business out here, broke up the pin!”

 

Immediately after breaking up the pin, JD grabs Magnifico by the arm and begins pulling him to his feet, receiving no resistance form the semi-conscious luchadore. Once ELM is standing, Jay throws his foot out and drives it into Magnifico’s gut, doubling him over in the center of the ring! Not pausing for an instant, JD quickly applies a Standing Head Scissors on the luchadore, before grabbing Magnifico’s arms and crossing them in front of his neck! The fans barely have a chance to boo as JD suddenly jumps into the air, before falling onto his knees, slamming ELM’s skull into the canvas with JD’s Revenge! The boos come thick and heavy now, as every fan in the arena shows their hatred for JD while he releases Magnifico and rolls him onto his back. Jay quickly stands back up and begins heading over to the still-motionless Sacred, when CIA suddenly comes charging down the ramp, making a bee-line for Jay Dawg! JD catches wind of this and immediately exits the ring just as CIA slides beneath the bottom rope! Jay hops into the crowd and begins running off, only to have CIA slide out of the ring and chase after him! As both men charge through the throng of screaming fans, Sacred and Magnifico lay motionless next to each other, both of them taken out it some form or another. After several seconds, Sacred begins to stir and starts rolling towards Magnifico, draping himself over the luchadore’s chest for the cover! The fans boo wildly at shout at Magnifico to get up as the ref slides into position and begins counting...

 

ONE...

 

TWO...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRE-Noooo!! Magnifico gets a shoulder up at the very last possible moment, drawing an incredible pop from the audience!

 

“Oh my God! Magnifico kicks out! Magnifico kicks out!” screams Stevens. “ELM took JD’s Revenge and still managed to escape the pin!”

 

“Great, now he’s dirty, Mexican, AND a no-seller. ELM really is the package deal, folks.” Comments Riley sarcastically.

 

Sacred slowly rolls off of the luchadore and begins pushing himself back to his feet, holding his head in pain as he does so. After a good bit of struggling, Sacred finally stands, collapsing against the ropes to keep himself from falling back to the mat. Suddenly, Sacred notices the beat-up steel chair, still in the ring from its previous use in the match. Muttering angrily to himself, Sacred pushes himself off of the ropes and heads over to the chair, kicking it halfheartedly towards the luchadore as Magnifico begins pushing himself to his feet. Sacred then walks over to Magnifico, still shaking off the pain in his head, grabs ELM by the arm, and begins pulling him to his feet. Once Magnifico is standing, Sacred positions him in front of the steel chair, before bending over, grabbing Magnifico’s legs, and lifting him into the air for the Black Number One! But as Sacred lifts ELM over his head, the luchadore suddenly lunges forward and grabs the back of Sacred’s legs! Magnifico then pulls hard on Sacred’s legs, yanking himself out of the Aussie’s grip is he slides down his back! ELM then rolls forward, dragging Sacred down to the mat and pinning him with a Reverse Victory Rollup! A surprised pop rises from the crowd as Sacred kicks and struggles wildly, desperate to escape as the ref slides into position...

 

ONE...

 

TWO...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEE!! Sacred escape a millisecond too late, kicks his legs out and sending ELM flying backwards to the mat! However, the damage has already been done, as the ref turns towards the timekeeper and signals for the bell to a massive pop from the fans!

 

DING DING DING

 

“Your winner, and the NEW, SWF World Heavyweight Champion...El Luchadooooooorre Magnificooooooo!!” announces Funyon, nearly drowned out by the capacity crowd.

 

Magnifico rolls out of the ring right after hitting the mat, stepping to the outside as Sacred pops to his feet, a confused and pissed-off look on his face. When the ref tells Sacred what he happens, he looks around wildly for ELM, looking as if he’s about to kill the luchadore! He finally catches sight of Magnifico slowly walking backwards up the entrance ramp, a triumphant smile on his face as he revels in Sacred’s anger. The Aussie immediately charges towards the ropes closest the entrance ramp and hangs over them, curing out Magnifico as he screams at the luchadore to get back in the ring. ELM simply laughs, enjoying the moment as “Mission Trip to Mexico” comes over the speakers, drawing another pop from the jovial crowd.

 

“He did it!” proclaims Stevens. “I’m not sure I believe it myself, but Magnifico has done it! After all the carnage these two men wreaked on each other, ELM finishes by completely surprising Sacred with a Rollup!!”

 

“How on Earth can you be happy about this?!” cries Riley. “That was easily the biggest load of malarky I have EVER seen!! A freaking Rollup?!”

 

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” grins Stevens.

 

“GAHHH!!” shouts Riley, clutching his head.

 

“While my announcing partner suffers a mental breakdown, I’d like to thank you all for tuning in tonight! We have a new World Champ, as a fantastic match caps off this amazing night!” shouts Stevens. “I’m Mark Stevens, the crying guy is Bobby Riley, and that’s all the time we have! G’night, folks! Watch Storm!”

 

The last image broadcasted before the show fades to black is El Luchadore Magnifico, joined by the referee and handed the World Title. The ref holds Magnifico’s title-clutching hand high into the air, drawing one last cheer from the crowd as the show fades to darnkess...

[Guest BA_Baracus]

TRIPLE THREAT MATCH

CIA vs. Mercury vs. Xero

- CIA is not the biggest jobber in the league, but then I doubt that would even be possible since he's Canadian an all.

 

CAGE MATCH

Tod deKindes vs. Annie Eclectic

- Tod wins! The series is over. Oh, and he beat the girlish stuffings out of Annie after the match...for shame!

 

TAG TEAM TITLE MATCH

Thoth & Ced Ordonez © vs. Perfect Bo & Jay Dawg

- The cross dressing wizards or whatever, beat CC...gosh darnit.

 

SPIN THE WHEEL MATCH

Frost © vs. Ash Ketchum

- Ash wins a 30-minute "Stash the Ash" match. What the hell's that you ask? Read the show!

 

ICTV TITLE MATCH

Tom Flesher © vs. Mak Francis

- Tom retains the title.

 

NO-DQ MATCH FOR THE SWF HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE

Sacred © vs. El Luchadore Magnifico

- Who won? Read the show to find out.

 

Now...go comment on the show people! Those who don't will be shot.