SWF Storm (Nov. 15/2002)

[Guest BA_Baracus]

[Loud music booms through the darkened arena.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Bobby Riley - I suppose this is where I'd say something clever...

 

Stevens - Sounds like the thing to do.

 

Riley - Yup...*cough*.

 

Stevens - Yeeeeah, well...anyways, on with SWF Ssssstorm!

[Guest BA_Baracus]

SINGLES MATCH

Tod deKindes vs. CIA

- Tod needs a good lecture from Yoda, since he seems to be embracing the dark side these days. Maybe a good clean match against the glistening Canadian babyface CIA would help.

 

TAG TEAM MATCH

Ced Ordonez & Mak Francis vs. Tom Flesher & Frost

- Mak Francis recently joined up with Ced and Thoth, but it appears as if Thoth has retired. That won’t stop Ced and Francis from exacting some revenge from Thoth’s old enemies in M7 though. Tag team action this Friday!

 

HARDCORE TITLE MATCH

Ash Ketchum © vs. Annie Eclectic

- Annie calls herself the “hardcore queen” and yet she doesn’t currently hold, nor has she ever held the hardcore title. Annie will have the chance to rectify this situation on Storm against former stable-mate, Ash Ketchum.

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

 

HANDICAP MATCH

Danny Williams & Sacred vs. El Luchadore Magnifico

- A few weeks back Magnifico regained his title from Sacred, a man who’s well liked by commissioner Stubby. In order to teach Magnifico a lesson and possibly soften him up for a future rematch, Stubby has booked this match.

Match Description – DQ and count-out rules are in effect. All 3 men can be in the ring at once…Bo and Sacred do not need to tag in and out.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

**As we're welcomed back to the action by the graphics and musical accompaniments.**

 

Stevens: All right folks, we're just getting started here but for now let's take you to our newest acquisition: Kevin Cole!

 

Riley: Didn't we leave him stuck in the Junior Leagues?

 

…

 

**Backstage we go, as Kevin Cole stands in front of a dressing room door with a suspicious green, black and silver logo; depicting the familiar XF9 logo.**

 

Cole: I'm here in front of Tod deKindes' dressing room, where he's set to face CIA in just a few moments and I *was* hoping to get a word with him before he goes out to the ring …

 

**By the powers of coinky dink, the former U.S. champ just happens to walk out, already clad in his competing gear, he barely even notices the interviewer.**

 

Cole: Speaking of which, Tod!

 

Tod: (stopping to check…and notices)…Cole?? I thought I made sure I stuck you at the Junior League! What with that B.O. of yours…

 

Cole: …Right. Nonetheless, Tod, we saw you last week hanging out in the boiler rooms as you were known to do in the past; which was not so long after you lost the U.S. title. Could this mean we're about to see a return to the Tod deKindes of old as you get set to face CIA in just a bit?

 

Tod: (furrows his brow as he ponders the question) Of old?? Can't a guy take a whizz downstairs anymore?…Right.

 

Cole: Well, ever since the loss of your title, some wrestlers backstage haven't been quite approving of your newfound attitude, and one of 'em even went as far as throwing you a harmless challenge to a match tonight, in the form of CIA.

 

Tod: CIA. (stifles a laugh) Right. Dumbwads like him is EXACTLY why I spent a couple years in Germany! If the Complete Intellectual ABHORRENCE, pardon my french, wants to have a match with ME, I have NO PROBLEM WHATSOEVER in showing him just what makes me XF9 material and a pretty damn good U.S. champ to boot!

 

Cole: You…DO realize that you're no longer in XF9, right? I believe they kicked you out at Dissention.

 

Tod: Once again, Kevin Cole, you speak out of your ASS! XF9 represents GREATNESS among the ranks of the SWF and thus at Dissention I was the one that kicked out Sarah, Ash and Renegade! THEY'RE out, NOT me!! Now EXCUUUUUSE me, Kevin Cole, but I have a WICKED beating to administer to one Charles Irwin Anderson…Or whatever. Ahh!…

 

**As he annoyedly storms off, we go back to ringside.**

 

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, SWF Storm continues with the following contest, set for ONE fall!

 

**As the Canadian national anthem fires up, the Smarktron displays a waving Maple Leaf and as a sea of red lighting invades the entrance ramp.**

 

Funyon: Introducing first, from Ottawa, Ontario; Canada. He weighs in at 237 lbs… Seeeee - Eye - Aaaaaaayyy!!

 

**As red pyro bursts from the stage, the anthem morphs into the opening riff of 'Secret Agent Man'. The masked canadian superstar walks out without any of his usual entrance ring accoutrement, opting for a more determined walk down the aisle.**

 

Riley: Would ya look at that, CIA usually likes to do a big old song and dance number before coming out to the ring, but now I guess he's finally woke up.

 

Stevens: With a more confident walk to the ring, it looks like CIA is actually itching to get his hands on the former U.S. champion!

 

**After slapping a series of hands in the front row, CIA rolls into the ring and strikes a quick raised fist pose to the cheering crowd and then proceeds to his usual pre match stretching exercises in the corner.**

 

Stevens: You gotta admit, Bobby; while CIA is still relatively new to the SWF, you can see that he's been gaining more and more fans as he's been racking up wins lately!

 

Bobby: Please, you can tell the kid got LUCKY in recent months! He's been having a bit of a rivalry with Frost lately and I'm amazed that he didn't get KILLED!

 

Stevens: I'll have you know CIA got called up to the SWF because he DESERVED to be in this company!

 

Bobby: That was a clerical error. Kojack was actually supposed to move up.

 

**As CIA's theme fades to a stop, Funyon steps back to the center of the ring, while 'Cold' by Static X hits the speakers. **

 

Funyon: His opponent : From Toronto, Ontario, Canada; weighing in at 225 lbs. He is the self proclaimed LAST Surviving Member of X Force Nine ever … Tod - deeeeeeeeeeeeee - Kin - deeeeeeeeeeesssss!!

 

**Amidst the usual smoke and strobe light effects, Tod walks out to the slow tune of his chilling entrance theme, clad in his standard black trench coat; but this time without the silver framed shades. With the guaranteed boos sure to come his way, Tod walks from one end of the stage to the other, telling off the crowd in a not so nice manner, namely telling them that their mother stinks. Don't ask. He stops at the middle of the stage and sends a look out towards the ring, staring a cocky but confident hole into his waiting opponent. Meanwhile, in the ring, CIA returns the stare all while throwing his arms at his sides as if saying "Just bring it, eh?". **

 

Stevens: These two competitors have never met in the ring before, but you gotta wonder that Tod deKindes just might have an advantage over CIA tonight, Bobby.

 

**Tod begins a slow but steady walk down the ramp, making sure to antagonize a few fans along the way. **

 

Riley: No doubt, lemme add that Tod deKindes is one of the GREATEST United States champion that there is and the LEADER and ONLY MEMBER of X Force Nine. He's been in this company a SMIIIIDGE longer than ol' Moose here.

 

Stevens: You're right, Tod does have more experience than CIA, but CIA does have a tremendous desire for success. We'll wait to see how that translates in the ring.

 

Riley: PLEASE! It's not desire that puts food in your mouth, it's WINS!

 

**As Tod steps into the ring, he runs up a set of ropes. He proudly pounds his chest and throws his fists up in the air, prompting the crowd to intensely boo their one time german hero. Tod hops back down and repeats the same number on the opposite turnbuckle; then he finally untrenches himself, as his music slowly dies down. **

 

Stevens: These two are just about ready to go, as referee Eddy Long rings the bell.

 

**After a few rounds of circling, both men meet up in center ring with a lock up. Tod grabs control with a wrenching arm twist, as he tries to cinch it in. CIA counters the arm twist with one of his own, as Tod now finds his arm pulled in an unsafe position. Almost immediately, Tod counters THAT with the Owen Hart Flip Flop Reversal Sequence (you know the one) which ends up with the pseudo-german connecting with an arm drag on CIA. Tod hops to his feet, throws his fists up and celebrates that bit of offense with a resounding 'Woo!'. **

 

Riley: GREAT technical expertise by Tod deKindes!!

 

Stevens: Yeah, he's a regular Lou Thesz.

 

Riley: Lou Who?

 

**Not one to be humbled, CIA collects himself to his feet, while Tod awaits. Both men get to circling, and then connect with another lock up. Tod almost immediately takes control and grabs a quick headlock on his opponent. CIA tries to fight off with a weak forearm or two to the rib area, but instead he simply opts to shove Tod to the ropes. The torontonian grappler bounces off the ropes and connects with a big time shoulder tackle that sends CIA down in a heap. After a quick half-second of hesitation, Tod throws himself into the adjacent set of ropes, as CIA rolls over to his stomach. Tod hops over him as he comes off the strands. CIA is quick to get up and leapfrog his pseudo german opponent, as Tod puts the brakes on and nails a HUGE right hand that smacks CIA right in the mask. **

 

Riley: And that's what I like to call "POW"~!!

 

**CIA is briefly floored to the mat, but he staggers quickly back up; only to be met with another fierce barrage of right hands by Tod. Irish whip to the ropes by Tod. CIA ducks a back elbow attempt but he eats a solid right hand to the gut as he comes off the other set of ropes. Tod bounces off those same ropes and connects with a neatly executed swinging neckbreaker. He gets to his feet, takes a few menacing steps back, allowing hiimself enough walking distance so he can drop a BIG knee drop right on the forehead of CIA. Cover by Tod, with added forearm to the face for effect. **

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

**Kick out by CIA. Feeling skippy, Tod hops on top of CIA and absolutely PLASTERS him with a series of rapid fire right hands to the side of the head. He then drags him up to his feet by the hair and mask, only to shove him back into a corner. He hammers him with more right hands and a series of hard kicks to the mid section, prompting Eddy Long to use his five count. Tod breaks his offense for a second, raising his hands up. He then distracts Long with a "Hey, look, over there!", allowing Tod to wrap both of his hands around the Canadian boy wonder's throat. Upon returning from his useless scan of the surroundings, Eddy Long finds Tod choking away on CIA and thusly reuses his five count to break it up. **

 

Stevens: Come on, ref, he's choking him! Get him out of the corner! … Doesn't look like a good night to be CIA, Tod looks like he wants to KILL the Ottawan's chance of success!

 

Riley: Otto Wanz? Wasn't he former AWA champ?

 

Stevens: …

 

**Tod breaks his corner goozle at 4 ¾, only to immediately grab his opponent by the left arm and Irish whip him HARD into the opposite corner. Seeing as he ain't budging from there, Tod makes a mad dash across the ring and bends his head down at the last second, connecting with a HUGE corner spear on the dazed CIA. He grabs the Canadian's head in a front facelock and throws his arm up over his head, firing up the aptly renamed Tod's Trilogy. He scores with a crisp snap suplex … muscles him back up … he lifts him up and nails a neatly done front suplex … then muscles him back up again … lifts him up for a third time and mercilessly DROPS him stomach first on the top rope, adding a bit more oomph than he would have a month ago. Although aching a bit, CIA positions his feet back onto the ring apron, but that only allows Tod to strategically place himself and then KAPOWS CIA with a brutal standing sidekick. CIA crumples to the floor. **

 

Riley: Now see, THIS is what I like about Tod deKindes! He'll come at you without any B.S. AND he can mix and match his offense to suit anyone's style!

 

Stevens: But that jerk attitude of his isn't earning him points in anyone's book!

 

**Tod pushes Eddy Long aside so he can climb the turnbuckles and gain a bit of high flying air miles. A few ringside fans try to get him to jump … but once again, he flips them all off, hops down to the apron and kicks CIA in the head instead. **

 

Riley: And look at that ability!!

 

Stevens: Yeah. Must've taken a lot of effort to do THAT!

 

**CIA staggers off and about, holding the side of his head until the ringing goes away. Meanwhile, Tod takes a few steps back, planning his next move carefully. With CIA's back still turned towards him, Tod takes a two-step leap off the apron and connects with a HUGE running dropkick right on the back of CIA's head, sending the canadian staggering even further and crashing into the steel guardrail. Tod grabs the reeling CIA by the back of the mask and then proceeds to smashing his head right on the announcer's table! Meanwhile, Eddy Long has started his ten count. **

 

Stevens: Right in front (1) of us! Watch it!!

 

Riley: Get out of his way, Ground Ham! You're interfering (2) in Tod's match!!

 

Stevens: He needs to get this match (3) back inside the ring, that's what he needs to do! (4)

 

Riley: This whole ARENA is Tod's own (5) personal WORLD, Slammy! And we're just living in it!!

 

Stevens: Wait, (6) CIA's blocked it!

 

**As the duo was talking, Tod had tried to smash his head on the table one more time, but CIA put his hands up to block, giving Tod the same fate! CIA recovers and grabs an Irish (7) whip on Tod, but it's quickly reversed as CIA takes a BRUTAL (8) into the steel steps. Tod casually rolls in and back out of the ring, thus breaking up Long's ten count; and allowing Tod to collect CIA from ringside and toss him back in. Tod adds a few stomps to the head for good measure, then falls on top for the cover attempt, still with the forearm in the face. **

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THR-- !

 

**Kick out by CIA. He tries to get up to his feet, but a fist drop to the head courtesy of the pseudo german grappler puts an end to that. He yanks him up to his feet, again with part hair and part mask in his hands. After a series of right hands to the head, Tod grabs hold of CIA's left arm and casually Irish whips him to a corner with authority, with CIA colliding chest first with the turnbuckles. Tod grabs his staggering opponent from behind with a full nelson. Sensing what might be at hand, CIA tries to struggle in his dazed state, but it's no use, as Tod DRIVES him down hard to the mat with a vicious dragon suplex. **

 

Riley: And BAM! That outta hold him!

 

**Tod COULD cover him again … but he feels the fun's just started. **

 

Riley: Say what you will about Tod, but so far it's been ALL him!

 

Stevens: I would have to agree, Bobby. CIA needs to hit that one big move out of his arsenal if he wants to have a chance in this match!

 

Riley: A chance?? Please! This is Tod deKindes he's wrestling, here! The ONLY member of XF9! Man, the guys would be SO proud of him …

 

Stevens: (can only reply with an exasperated sigh) …

 

**Meanwhile, Tod has CIA running HARD into another corner, only to come charging at him with another vicious corner clothesline. He follows up with another Irish whip to the opposite corner. Tod charges once again, but CIA lifts his legs up and rolls forward into a sunset flip! **

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

**Kick out by the former champ. Caught by surprise at this sudden turn of events, Tod tries to get his bearings together to put some more hurt on the canadian, but he runs RIGHT into clothesline from CIA! That's not enough to keep the pseudo german down, however, as he gets right back up to his feet … only to run into ANOTHER clothesline by the canadian! **

 

Stevens: And now CIA is making his comeback!

 

**A series of right hands to the head and an Irish whip to the ropes help to add to CIA's momentum, as he catches Tod off the ropes with a BIG time powerslam! The cover. **

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

**Kick out by Tod. CIA tries to rally the crowd behind him with a quick "C'mon!!" as he grabs Tod by the hair, bringing him to his feet. As the canadian Irish whips the pseudo german into a corner, fans in the background can be seen turning their heads towards the entrance way. **

 

Stevens: What's going on now?

 

Riley: Aww, look who's here!

 

**Fans start to boo, as the towering icy mass of a man, Frost, is seen lumbering out onto the stage.**

 

Stevens: What is HE doing out here?

 

Riley: Well, as you MAY or may not know; both Frost and CIA have been having some sort of a problem lately; which mainly involve his giant hands around his crappy canadian little THROAT! So, y'know, he's just checking things out.

 

Stevens: Right, and he's not gonna interfere.

 

Riley: Him?? No way!!

 

**Meanwhile, CIA has climbed up on the second rope and starts wailing away on the defenseless Tod.**

 

Crowd: One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Six! Seven! Eig …--!

 

**Both the crowd and the canadian stop short, as CIA finally stops his punching long enough to notice Frost glaring at him from the entrance way. He steps down from his perch so he can point a menacing finger at the Icelandic monster.**

 

Stevens: CIA needs to keep his eye on the ball there, if he wants to win this match up!

 

Riley: Classic rookie mistake, Slamball! Virtuous good guy sees distraction at ringside, so he can't help but go over and have a better look.

 

**While Tod recovers from the repetitive punching, CIA actually beckons Frost to enter the ring!**

 

Stevens: What's he doing? He's DARING Frost to get in the ring?!

 

Riley: This kid has more stupidity than guts! And brains are nonexistant!!

 

**Frost dutifully complies as he starts walking down the aisle, eventually stopping himself at ringside to observe more closely.**

 

Stevens: Meanwhile, Tod is still in this thing!

 

**The not so german grappler sneaks up from behind and grabs a waistlock on the unsuspecting CIA. He tries to lift him up for another nasty german suplex, but CIA blocks it with a back elbow to the temple and counters with a go-behind into a waistlock of his own. He turns it into a half-nelson in a flash.**

 

Stevens: Going for that half-nelson supl--…hey what the hell!

 

**Just as CIA tries to lift up his opponent off the mat, Frost hops onto the apron and yanks Tod back down by the leg! Seeing as his move was just prevented from execution by the big man, CIA cusses up a storm after the smirking big man.**

 

Stevens: Frost has no business down to ringside, Bobby! Get him outta here!

 

**CIA swings a mighty clothesline in Frost's direction, but the Icelander ducks and hops back down to the apron, the duty having been done. Tod sees his opening…and CLAMPS on a tight katihajime!**

 

Stevens: What's this, some sleeper?

 

Riley: That's what he calls the Silent Scream, Slammer! With that move locked in tight, there's NO way that the blood keeps flowing to the head, and you PASS OUT as a result!

 

**Tod takes a few steps back away from the ropes, as CIA struggles a losing battle. Tod hooks in the body scissors for maximum effect.**

 

Stevens: CIA is rapidly fading!

 

Riley: And he is…GONE!

 

**Eddy Long does a quick arm check … but it's already gone limp!**

 

Long: Ring it!!

 

**As the bell rings, the victor's theme music fires up.**

 

Funyon: Here is your winner by submission: Tod deeeee - Kindeeeesssss!!

 

**Tod declines to have his hand raised as he rolls outside the ring. He shares a quick uneasy stare with longtime rival Frost, who's been staring at CIA ever since the bell. As Tod uneventfully retreats to the back, Frost slithers back into the ring.**

 

Stevens: Come on now, the match is over!

 

Riley: That's what I call picking up the pieces!

 

**Frost wastes no time, as he hoists CIA up to his feet by the mask. Without hesitation, he scoops him up on his shoulder and places him in the dreaded tombstone position. A second later, he hops off his feet and DRIVES the poor canadian bastard right on his head! 'Cold' cuts out abruptly.**

 

Stevens: With this match over, Frost picks his spot and DRIVES poor CIA down to the mat with a Tombstone piledriver! CIA is out of it!!

 

**As Sexton Hardcastle and Billy Chioda run out to prevent any further damage, Frost gets up from the mat, contemplating his attack and appearing proud of his work. Under the referees' pleading, Frost exits the ring as if nothing happened. He retreats to the back without even looking backwards, as people tend to the fallen CIA.**

 

Stevens: This is carnage! Tod deKindes chokes out CIA and then Frost drops him on his head! This is surreal! We're gonna try to get some order around here!

 

**As referees try to get CIA out of the ring, we fade away to commercial.**

[Guest BA_Baracus]

The camera finds Ben Hardy standing in the immediate backstage area in front of a banner reading “SWF STORM” in bright blue letters with lightening streaks on the sides of it. He sees the red light on the camera and hastily starts to speak into his microphone while gesturing to an unseen figure off camera.

 

“Frost, Frost, over here,” he calls and gestures the behemoth over. The Velvet Hammer enters the picture, oiled up and ready to fight. His eyes shine with heated anger and his nostrils flare.

 

“You are minutes away from a tag team match in which you and Tom Flesher will take on Ced Ordonez and Mak Francis,” Hardy states. “However, you just now attacked CIA post his match with Tod DeKindes, with a contest of your own to worry about, what’s the story with the Canadian Intelligence Agent.”

 

Frost rips the microphone out of Hardy’s grasp. Ben flutters his hands and tries to take it back, but Frost stares a whole through him and he obediently fades into the background. Frost pivots his neck back and forth to crack it and then glares intently into the camera with his piercing blue eyes.

 

“First of all, those faces” Frost spits on the ground with disgust for emphasis, “are going to get exactly what’s coming to them. A one-way ticket on the job train with NO REFUND! Mak Francis needs to learn that you do not leave the Magnificent 7 and it simply does not leave you, it leaves you for DEAD!”

 

He points at the camera with menace and then resets his manner. “As for CIA, just now out there in the arena, he got a mere taste of the smorgasbord of pain I have lined up to feed him. I was the undisputable number one contender for the SWF World Championship after scoring a clean and decisive pin over that muttering Mexcian.” Frost sneaks a glance back at Hardy to see if he wants to dispute his false claims, but the broadcaster can only cower in fear.

 

“But did I get a title shot right away?” he continues “No! I had to go through Magnifico’s cannon fodder first in CIA. I had to step over the molehill to get to the mountain, but the molehill proved to be a greater climb than one would think. I tried to go easy on you, I tried to let you board the job train under your own power, I tried to let you do the right thing and lose to me, but you did not accept my graciousness, face.”

 

Frost spits again and paces back and forth a few steps with his head down, trying to contain his erupting volatility. With a deep sigh, he lifts his head and addresses the camera once more.

 

“You didn’t ‘beat’ me. You didn’t ‘squeak out a victory.’ I purely decided not to obliterate you, but I won’t make that same mistake twice. The next we face off in that squared circle, from bell to bell, I’m going to THROTTLE YOU INTO A COMA! And after they haul your carcass away on a stretcher, I’m going to do TWICE as worse to your little buddy and that stick figure of a World Champion, El Luchadore Magnifico. When I am through with him, I’m going to strut around with that title belt around my waist and his skull on my head for a party hat! VENGEANCE IS MINE!”

 

Frost spikes the microphone down and storms off out of frame. Hardy shakes like a leaf in the background while mic feedback drones until finally the scene fades to black.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

The scene flickers back on SWF Storm as it pans the screaming crowd, holding up signs and fighting for a split second of camera time.

 

“Everyone here in the Ford Center is on their feet as we are mere moments away from a very interesting tag team tussle.” Mark Stevens hypes on voice over.

 

“More like a red ass beatdown on the Bemani Ass Wizards 2.0 or whatever they want to call themselves.” Bobby Riley spits out as the shot transitions to highlight the commentators at their ringside table.

 

“Temper, temper now Bobby,” Mark teases “you used to be a champion of young Mak Francis.”

 

“That was before Thoth unbalanced his mind and Tom Flesher had to kick him out of the Magnificent 7. Let’s see, who would I rather have backing me up tonight, a 300 pound Icelandic hoss or a Filipino midget.” Riley strikes the table top with disgust.

 

“We’ll see if we can’t answer your question as Mag 7 leader Flesher and his top enforcer Frost do battle against Francis and his new ally Ced Ordonez.”

 

The shot then transitions again to reveal Funyon in the ring, soaking in the light crowd noise and preparing for his next intros of the evening.

 

The video game groove of “Esaka?” fills the arena and elicits a light crowd pop. The lights dim and a spotlight shoots from the ceiling to find a man standing on the entrance stage with a purple towel draped over his lowered head.

 

“Introducing first,” Funyon booms out “from Sacramento, California at a weight of 203 pounds, he is one half of the SWF tag team champions CED OR…DO… NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZ!”

 

The music switches up to “Down with a Sickness” and a voice rings out,

 

“Are you ready?”

 

“Are you ready?!”

 

“CAUSE THE FRANCHISE IS HERE!”

 

“And his tag team partner,” Funyon continues “at a weight of 225 pounds and residing in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, The Franchise MAK…FRRRRRRRRANCIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSS!”

 

Francis trots out from the back and stands next to his partner, who flips his head back to send his towel flying. He catches it with one hand and whips it into the crowd as the two men jog down the ramp toward the ring.

 

Stevens: “Ced still has his half of the tag team belts around his waist, although it appears that Thoth is taking a bit of a sabbatical from the squared circle. Leaves me to wonder what the final fate of the tag straps might be.”

 

Riley: “They should just hand them over to Flesher and Frost, lord knows they would win any tournament that would be set up.”

 

“HERE WE ARE…BORN TO BE KINGS…WE ARE PRINCES OF THE UNIVERSE!”

 

The fans vehemently jeer at Queen’s “Princes of the Universe” as it heralds the entrance of the Mag 7 contingent. Green and white fireworks explode down the sides of the entrance ramp and, as the hazy smoke clears, two men with sneers on their lips stand on the stage.

 

“Now entering the arena,” Funyon announces “at a combined weight of 409 pounds. They represent the Magnificent 7, FROST and THE SUPERIOR ONE…TOM… FLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESHERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!”

 

The two make their way down the ramp, glaring at fans and both chomping Frost brand cigars.

 

Riley: “Look at that unity and teamwork already, synchronized cigar smoking.”

 

Stevens: “Although stablemates, this is the first time the two men have teamed up. However, I have to think they will have it all over Mak and Ced in the teamwork department.”

 

Frost pulls himself to the ring apron and steps over the ropes while Flesher walks up the ring stairs with measured nobility. Frost takes his cigar and wings it into the crowd with the force of a Dan Marino Hail Mary pass. He points for Tom to toss his cigar into the audience and he does so with glee.

 

Funyon stares down at his Index Card of Superiority and reads, “Frost brand cigars. A superior smoke for superior folks.”

 

Riley: “Obviously they don’t sell them here in Oklahoma.”

 

Funyon exits and Eddy Long urges both teams to pick they’re starting man.

 

DING DING DING

 

Stevens: “Ced is going to defer to Francis here in the beginning and that seems to help the Mag 7 makes their decision as Frost steps out of the ring.”

 

The two former stablemates circle each other, Mak with a determined stare in his eyes and Tom with a wry smile on his lips.

 

Stevens: “These two last met at Dissention in a match which ultimately led to Mak leaving the Mag 7.”

 

Riley: “Replace ‘leaving’ with ‘kicked to the curb.’”

 

The former allies dart toward each other and make with an elbow and collar tie up. They jockey for position with Flesher scoring a side headlock. Francis quickly puts his forearms into Tom’s back and pushes him off into the ropes. Tom turns to the take the strands in the back and runs back at Mak. He drops to the canvas and Flesher skips over him. The Franchise jumps up as Tom springs off the opposite ropes and is knocked flat with a shoulderblock! Flesher lifts his arms in victory and cockily struts away from the downed Francis to tag in Frost.

 

Riley: “What a superior shoulderblock! I’m surprised Mak didn’t just tap out right there.”

 

Stevens: “It’s obvious that the Superior One is playing mind games with his former charge. Not letting him have a single advantage on him and letting the Mag 7 workhorse take him on.”

 

Francis is swiftly back on his feet and lunges to get a lock up on Frost. The Icelander fakes linking arms, but cuts Mak off with a knee to the midsection. He doubles over and Frost clubs him to his knees with bruising forearms.

 

Riley: “Frost doesn’t go in for any of this fancy-schmancy “technical” mumbo jumbo, he just likes to lay in a good beating.”

 

Frost hooks Mak around the waist and lifts him up with a twist to lie across his right shoulder. He falls back and drives Francis’ shoulders and neck into the mat.

 

Stevens: “Gutwrench suplex! Mak is reeling, but Frost pulls him up for more punishment.”

 

Frost hoists Mak up by the waist and slings him over his shoulder. He spins around in a circle and stops to face the lower left ring corner. Frost charges with a scream welling from his throat. As he nears the corner, Francis slides off the man’s broad shoulder and gives him a light shove to keep going. Frost strikes the top turnbuckle chest first and ricochets off. Francis scores a waistlock and uses the existing momentum to get the mammoth man up and over his head in one deft motion!

 

Stevens: “Francis wiggles out of the Snake Eyes attempt and rocks Frost with a German suplex!”

 

The fans pop as Mak rockets to his feet and into the near ropes. Frost awkwardly clambers up and receives a textbook dropkick to the chest. He stumbles back off balanced and Francis resets himself to fire off another dropkick! Frost falls into the ropes and is tangled up in the strands. Francis lifts his arms in victory and shoots a look at his former mentor fuming on the apron. Mak cockily struts as Flesher did before to pop the crowd and tags in Ordonez.

 

Stevens: “Mak shows Flesher that he can give as good as he gets to the delight of these fans.”

 

Riley: “Just more gimmick infringement. Francis should be called the Inferior One.”

 

Ced bounds into the ring and takes Frost by the wrist while he is still stunned to jerk him out of the ropes. He whips him across the mat and catches him coming off the ropes with an armdrag. He re-cinches as he stands and keeps Frost pinned down with a standing armbar.

 

Stevens: “Ordonez uses a little stolen momentum to get the big man off his feet and seeks to keep him there.”

 

Riley: “After having his ass handed to him by Frost so many times, including losing the Hardcore Title to him, you would think Ced knows how to handle him by now.”

 

Frost taps his shoulder to restore a little feeling and twirls around to make his knees. He stands as Ced desperately fights to maintain the armbar. Frost uses his massive strength to whip Ordonez out of the move and hurtling for the ropes. He takes them in the back and then falls down due to a mysterious force.

 

Stevens: “Flesher nailed Ced with a cheap shot from the apron!”

 

Riley: “He tripped! He was drinking Saki in the locker room.”

 

Long turns to see Ced waylaid and shrugs his shoulders. Frost staggers over and tags Tom.

 

Stevens: “Flesher back in and he’s not giving Ordonez any quarter, wailing into him with those thick soled Doc Martens.”

 

Flesher furiously stomps away at Ced and then spins around to shoot a finger at Francis on the apron. Mak leans over the ropes and yells, but Long steps in between the two to keep the peace. Tom leans down and gruffly rips Ordonez to his feet and roughly shoves him into the lower right ring corner. Flesher turns and attempts to run past Long to get at Mak. Eddy holds his ground and the two wrestlers exchange barbs, while Frost expertly chokes Ced out with the tag strap in the corner.

 

Riley: “Nice to see someone using those ropes properly for a change.”

 

Stevens: “This type of heinous cheating is exactly what one expects to see out of the Magnificent 7.”

 

Riley: “And you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

 

The fans shower down the jeers and Frost lets go as Tom makes his way back over after the distraction. Ced slouches in the turnbuckles and holds his sore throat. Tom pulls him out of the corner with a front facelock and brings him to the center of the ring. He lifts him straight up with the aide of a handful of tights, holds him suspended above the canvas for a brief instant and then jackhammers him into the mat headfirst!

 

Stevens: “Fierce brainbuster from the ICTV Champion and he tags out.”

 

Ced lies face down on the mat holding his head and kicking his feet in pain as Frost enters. He pops into the air and crashes down with a knee to the back of the neck. Frost rolls Ced over and lateral presses.

 

ONE

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

 

THR-

 

Stevens: “Shoulder up! Frost drags Ced to his feet.”

 

Frost places Ordonez into a front facelock with his arms dangling limply down. Frost rocks back and forth twice and then twists to the side while rotating Ced’s neck onto his shoulder before dropping him down.

 

Riley: “That swinging neckbreaker just hammers home the Mag 7 game plan. They’re going to break that punk’s neck.”

 

Stevens: “Well it’s certainly more strategy than the challengers have show to this point.”

 

Flesher applauds Frost from the apron while the fans boo and Mak claps his hands trying to rally his partner. Frost poises over Ordonez like he’s going to make another cover, but then shakes his head ‘no’ thinking better of it and pulls Ced up by his spiky hair as he stands.

 

Stevens: “Frost ops not to go for the cover and we’ve seen that backfire many a time, Bobby.”

 

Riley: “Yeah, but usually the opponent is still conscious.”

 

Frost plops Ced on his right shoulder like an overstuffed duffle bag and points a finger at Francis on the apron. Frost turns to face the upper right ring corner and charges. He stops short as he reaches his destination and tosses Ordonez in the air like a master pizza chef. Ced plummets to strike his face on the top turnbuckle and flies backwards with his neck whipping at a sick angle.

 

Stevens: “Frost hits Ced with the Snake Eyes that Mak countered earlier and is now taunting him as he stands on the apron, helpless to assist his partner. The tag.”

 

Flesher glides back into the ring with bubbling energy. He walks over to Ced and steps right on his throat without breaking stride and his eyes riveted on Mak’s. Francis screams from his corner and Flesher shrugs his shoulders in a ‘why not’ gesture and walks back over Ced’s throat.

 

Stevens: “That heartless bastard is rubbing it in now.”

 

Riley: “He’s playing mind games with Mak while murdering Ordonez. If Francis ever does get back in there his head will be too messed up and he’ll be too mad to be very effective.”

 

Flesher grabs Ordonez and lifts him to his feet, then throws him casually to the ropes. Ced, still a little groggy, rebounds, but manages to duck Flesher's Yakuza kick. Mak cheers him on from the corner as Flesher spins around on reflex, not expecting Ced to answer back with a stiff kick to the face! Tom staggers backwards, and Ced, out of desperation, follows up with a roundhouse kick to the face. Before Flesher knows what's happening, the submission artist from San Jose leaps into the air and nails his opponent with an enzuigiri! Flesher collapses to the mat, as does Ced, still completely exhasted by the beating he's taken throghot the match.

 

Riley: "Oh, come on! That was just ridiculous!"

 

Stevens: "What are you complaining about?"

 

Riley: "Ced's loaded boot, you fool!"

 

Stevens: "Loaded boot?!"

 

Riley: "Well, come on, how else are yo going to put Flesher down like that?"

 

Stevens: "Oh, hush... well, at least you're not talking about Flesher's load like you usually do. *cough* Ced Ordonez makes a comeback, but can he capitalize?"

 

From his corner, Mak Francis cheers Ced on, yelling for him to crawl over and make the tag to bring him into the match to clean house. Flesher lays motionless on his stomach, his bell rung and still echoing. Frost screams for Flesher to get up and make the tag, and the fans start to get into the act themselves. Mak starts stomping the mat in rhythm, and the crowd shouts along with a chant of "ORDONEZ! ORDONEZ!" Ced begins his slow crawl over as Flesher rolls to his stomach, in significantly better position than his opponent. Ced responds to the "ORDONEZ!" chant by picking up the speed as best he can. Frost, meanwhile, tries to get the fans to join in his "FROST BRAND TACOS! *clap clap clapclapclap*" chant, but is quite a bit less successful.

 

Ced inches closer to the corner, coaxed on by the hot crowd. Unfortunately, when Ced still has three feet or more to go, Flesher is able to reach up and slap hands with his Icelandic enforcer! The crowd bursts into a chorus of boos as the Frostbitten One charges across the ring and drops a diving elbow onto Ced, stopping his forward motion entirely. Despite Mak's efforts to reach over the top rope and extend his body far enough to make the tag, the Scandinavian Skullcrusher grabs Ced, lifts him into the air like a ragdoll and throws him overhead with a German suplex. Ced crashes to the mat, the force of the throw leaving him smack in the center of the ring. The crowd groans, disappointed.

 

Stevens: "Frost, the muscle of the Magnificent Seven, makes the save just in time to keep Mak Francis from getting his revenge on Tom Flesher!"

 

Riley: "Revenge? Revenge for what? For teaching him how to wrestle?"

 

Stevens: "That was Tyler Kinkel, Bobby."

 

Riley: "For carrying him to the best match he's ever had?"

 

Stevens: "And that was the ladder match where he won the Television Title from TNT, back in the SJL."

 

Riley: "For elevating him into contendership for the ICTV Title?!"

 

Stevens: "Thoth."

 

Riley: "Ah, shove it up your ass and die."

 

Stevens: "No, he hasn't done that yet, so Flesher certainly couldn't have helped him."

 

Riley grumbles under his breath as Frost yanks his opponent back to his feet. Cockily, Frost drives his knee into Ced's stomach, and when Ordonez doubles over in pain, Frost hammers him in the back of the head with a savage forearm blow. Ced nearly falls to the mat, but Frost holds him up and slaps on a front facelock. The fans boo him loudly as he smirks and nods, his face a twisted mask of sadism, signalling for the Ice Pick.

 

Stevens: "Things are looking bleak, here! If Frost hits the Ice Pick..."

 

Riley: "It's all over! It's curtains for Mak and Ced, and a *Dead Dead* Revolution spreads across the country! Mua'hahahahaha! Oh, I slay me."

 

Stevens: "...Riley, I'm 'four steps' away from smashing you."

 

Riley: "Don't make me go Full Combo on your sorry self."

 

Stevens: "I swear, my boot will be so far up your ass that I'll be playing left foot only for a MONTH."

 

Riley: "Well... uh... it takes two to tango."

 

Stevens: "That was horrible."

 

Riley: "Hey, can I help it if I've got Ted Flink in my earpiece?"

 

Stevens hisses, "SHUT UP!" as Frost lifts Ced off his feet for the high-angle DDT. He can't get him up, though! A little confused, he tries again, but once again fails to lift the comparatively miniature Ordonez off the mat! He looks down, only to see Ced's legs grapevined around his own! Frustrated, Frost releases the front chancery and tries to shove Ced away, but Ced quickly does a full split, spreading Frost's legs forcibly out to the sides and, evidently, causing him considerable pain.

 

Frost: "YYYYYYEEEEEEEEOOOOOUUUUUUUGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"

 

The fans burst into cheers as Ced scoots out from underneath Frost, then slides toward his corner. Holding his groin, Frost turns and tries impotently to follow Ced over, but Ced cuts him off by spinning around and nailing him with a gamengiri! Frost staggers back, and Ced leaps forward, tagging in Mak Francis as Oklahoma crowd bursts into cheers!

 

Francis charges into the ring, nailing Frost in the face with a Yakuza kick! Frost stumbles backward and falls to the mat as Tom Flesher enters the ring, only to have Mak charge at him! Mak, working off all his pent-up energy by hammering his former boss, tries to slam him in the face with another Yakuza kick, but Flesher ducks under it. He stands up, and as Mak spins around to face him, Flesher turns and nails him in the jaw with a palm strike! Mak absorbs the blow and answers back with a punch to the face. Flesher grits his teeth and whips Mak to the ropes. As Mak rebounds, Flesher stomps the mat twice, then shuffles toward him and hammers him in the jaw with a superkick! Mak falls to the mat, and Flesher dives onto him for a cover. Eddy Long, completely confused as to who the legal man might be, drops down and counts

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

NO!!!!! CED ORDONEZ dives over the top rope and breaks it up with a slingshot double knee drop! Flesher rolls off of Mak, and Ced yanks him to his feet. He lifts Flesher into the air and slams him down with a scoop slam, then prepares for his springboard flip.

 

Stevens: "We're going to see the Mark Out!"

 

Riley: "God willing, yes. Now out, Mark! OUT!"

 

Stevens: "Just horrible, Bobby."

 

Riley: "Well, YOU have Cyclone Comet on YOUR earpiece."

 

Stevens: "Oh yeah? Well, justice has a new face, a new look, and a new line of merchandise... and it's GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND SLAM!"

 

Riley: "Some guys have all the luck."

 

Ced prepares, that is, until Frost charges in and nails him with the Hell Freezes Over lariat! Ced collapses to the mat, and Frost lifts him up with a front chancery, prepping for the Ice Pick once more... AND HE HITS IT! Ced crashes to the mat and rolls over. Frost covers him, and Eddy Long counts

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

NO! Mak Francis breaks it up with a diving elbowdrop, and Frost stands up, turns around, and stares Mak down. Meanwhile, Eddy Long throws his hands into the air out of frustration. Mak stiffs Frost with several right hands to the face, and Frost staggers backwards. Mak starts to set up the Franchise Tag, but Tom Flesher charges behind him with a double axehandle! Francis spins around, grabs Flesher by the head and slams him with an elbow to the back of the head. Frost tries to interfere, but Ced Ordonez gets up just in time to pull him away! Frost stares angrily at Ced, then rocks him with a forearm blow just as Mak Francis lifts Flesher up in cradle suplex position. Francis stalls with Flesher in the air, then jumps up and hammers Flesher's head into the mat with his jumping fisherman buster!!!

 

Stevens: "FRANCHISE TAG! FRANCHISE TAG!!!!!!!"

 

Riley: "SOMEONE DO SOMETHING!!!!!"

 

Frost whips Ced to the ropes, and Ced rebounds, charging at Frost. The Icelandic entrepreneur throws another lariat, which Ced ducks. Ordonez runs through and rebounds just as Frost realizes that Mak is pinning Flesher! Frost angrily screams out loud, then, just as Ced leaps into the air for a flying cross body, Frost dives down onto Mak with a headbutt to break up the pin! Ced soars over Frost and lands in a heap on the mat, as Mak rolls off of Flesher. Frost reaches down and underhooks Mak's arms, pulling him up into a standing head scissors for the Early Winter tiger driver variant. He tries to lift Mak, but the Franchise strains to block the hold. Frost uses his far superior strength to lift Francis into the air, but Francis takes advantage of his agility to force himself back down. He stands up and throws Frost overhead with a back body drop, and the enforcer lands solidly on his back! Mak grabs him to cover!

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THR- NO!!!!!! Flesher grabs his protege by the legs and drags him off of Frost! Mak leaps to his feet, just in time for Flesher to grab him and yank him upwards in a quick-and-dirty brainbuster! The crowd boos loudly as Flesher grabs Mak by the head, runs over to the corner and climbs to the top rope. He plants his knee behind Mak's head, jumps off and nails the Ego Trip! Flesher covers!

 

ONE!

 

 

Ced looks over and sees the cover, then sprints across the ring!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

Ced springs off the second rope, then flips into a double stomp onto Flesher's back! The pin gets broken, and Flesher is out cold! Ced, gently massaging his neck subconsciously, grabs Flesher and rolls onto him for

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

FROST!!!!!!!! Frost drops in with a headbutt, then grabs Ced in a front chancery and nails a second Ice Pick! Frost looks up and surveys the ring area, everyone battered from multiple finisher-strength moves.

 

Stevens: "Look at this mess!"

 

Riley: "Listen, I couldn't help it, okay? The bathroom's just-"

 

Stevens: *clears throat* "Look at the bodies littering the ring, and there's only one man who's still cognitive! Only Frost is still aware! He can pick and choose what he wants to do!"

 

Frost looks down at Ced, then pulls him back to his feet and underhooks both arms. With ease, he yanks the 190-odd pound Ordonez into the air, then slams him to the mat with a sit-out underhook powerbomb.

 

Stevens: "EARLY WINTER! THIS ONE'S OVER!"

 

Riley: "Don't jinx it, jackass!"

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

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

 

 

"Your winners," announces Funyon, "THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN!!!!!!!!"

 

Ced and Mak both roll over, in obvious pain, as Flesher holds his back. Shrugging, Frost grabs Flesher, throws him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and steps onto the ramp. He carries Tom to the back while lighting up a cigar.

 

Stevens: "And there you have it, folks. The Magnificent Seven contingent takes this one over Bemani Cross Wizards 2.0!"

 

Riley: "I hope we never have to see these two together again!"

 

Stevens: "And we'll be back after this!"

[Guest BA_Baracus]

Cut back to the Ford Center in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, where the sellout crowd is still cheering in a rowdy fashion from the carnage of the tag match they just witnessed. Cut to the announcer's table where a conversation is just finishing between "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens and his commentating partner, Bobby Riley.

 

Riley: Doujinshi isn't bad, but why do all they have to have those women with cocks in there? I mean, come on, give me some rock hard man co... AND WE'RE BACK!

 

Stevens: Impeccable timing as usual, welcome back to SWF Storm! "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens here with Bobby Riley still... coming up on a great matchup next, it's a Hardcore Title match between the "Undercard King" Ash Ketchum defending against the current US Champion, the "Hardcore Queen" Annie Eclectic!

 

Riley: And no, we were not lost on the irony of who holds which belt.

 

Stevens: Let's go straight to the ring where Funyon's ready to give the introductions.

 

Funyon: Ladies and Gentlemen, our next match will be for one fall, and is for the Smarks Wrestling Federation HARDCORE Title!!!

 

"Angry Johnny" by Poe begins to play over the PA system inside the Ford Center as the crowd begins to cheer. Annie Eclectic makes her extravagent entrance from behind the curtain, holding her trusty Bokken (Kendo Sword) in one hand while holding the United States championship tight to her catsuit-covered shoulder with the other.

 

Funyon: First, the challenger and current United States Champion... from Indianapolis, Indiana and weighing in at one hundred seventy five pounds. Representing the Magnificent Seven... Annie... ECLECTIC!

 

Annie E blows a few kisses towards the front row, slapping five with the exhuberant fans reaching out from beyond the guardrails on her way to the ring.

 

Stevens: Even though Ketchum is the current and three-time Hardcore champion... Annie is motivated to get the belt she's coveted since joining the SWF! She has history on her side... Annie Eclectic is undefeated against the PokeFreak.

 

Annie Eclectic rolls under the bottom rope, popping back to her feet right in front of the referee Billy Chioda. She hands her US belt to him. Chioda then turns around and walks over towards the timekeeper, reaching through to pass the belt to him. Annie takes her corner, sword at ready for the ensuing battle...

 

Riley: She's also losing massive amounts of respect left and right. Ever since she lost decisively to the up and comer, Tod deKindes...

 

Stevens: Whom she then beat after for the US title...

 

Riley: ...By blackmail and circumvention Stevens! She's been challenging authority left and right! Bucking Tom Flesher's orders, being subversive... I hear she even yelled at our loving commissioner Stubby McWeed to sign this match.

 

Stevens: Right, losing respect, while getting fan support left and right, and winning not one, but two belts in the last two months. Possibly a third tonight!

 

"Angry Johnny" fades out, as the arena goes pitch black. Ten seconds later, a pokeball with a blindingly bright backlight emblazons the SmarkTron. Melodic piano plays over the PA system as the pokeball spins faster and faster on the screen until it's suddenly blocked out by the winking visage of Ash Ketchum himself. A huge pyro explosion occurs, as Ash Ketchum walks out from the smoke to an equally huge pop from the crowd.

 

Funyon: And the champion, representing X Force Nine... he is from Pallet Town and weighs in at two hundred sixty pounds... he is the Undercard King, the PokeFreak... and the Smarks Wrestling Federation Hardcore Champion, he is ASH... KETCHUM!!!

 

Stevens: And listen to the cheers from the crowd for the three time Hardcore Champion as well. There has to be mutual respect in this match from both competitors... Ash Ketchum defending his belt against the woman he introduced to the league so long ago.

 

Riley: And I hope he takes her head off in this match for betraying him twice. And then, if there is a God, he'll commit ritual seppuku and screw up, causing an excruciatingly slow and painful death.

 

Stevens: Aren't we just love luck and lollipops tonight?

 

The Hardcore Champion smiles towards the ring as he walks down the ramp, keeping an even stare with his opponent. Reaching the ring, he pulls up the apron to reveal the bevy of weapons underneath. Selecting a sturdy trash can lid, he rolls into the ring and hands off his title to Chioda. The official raises the belt high to show the crowd as both fighters meet in the center of the ring.

 

Stevens: This will be close. Ash is a proven Hardcore fighter, but Annie hasn't lost to him. How will it play out between the two self styled royalty in the SWF?

 

Riley: I hope they kill each other. Plain and simple. I won't be satisfied unless there's blood, maiming, and if fate loves me this week... beheading.

 

Stevens: It irks you that two honorable fighters are so successful doesn't it?

 

Riley: Travesty.

 

The music fades, the light returns, and Chioda calls for the bell...

 

DING DING DING

 

Stevens: The match is on!

 

 

Ash ignores the ready position of his opponent, and extends his hand out in a gesture of respect. Warily, Annie takes his hand and shakes it, drawing considerable approval of the crowd. The champion then points towards the Hardcore Queen's bokken and points towards his own forehead. Eclectic is suitably confused as Ketchum simply smiles and points at his head with taunts to "GO ahead! Hit me!". Annie decides that if he wants it...

 

CRACK!

 

The Angel swings for the fences as the brings the wooden sword down full force on the crown of Ketchum's head. Shaking off the dizzyness and pain, Ash shakes his trash can lid and points at Annie E. Realizing what he wants, the Hardcore Queen simply shrugs and offers her forehead... which Ash willingly swings at...

 

POW!

 

Bending the trashcan lid at an awkward angle over Annie's head.

 

Riley: What ARE these two retards doing?

 

Stevens: Psychological warfare? Seeing who can take more pain willingly? Some twisted respect pact? Or maybe this is the definition of hardcore...

 

Riley: I'm softcore then. Through and through.

 

Stevens: I heard Ted Flink can confirm this...

 

Annie takes her turn again, bringing the Kendo Sword down hard onto Ketchum's forehead, then standing still to give Ash a good shot of her forehead as he whacks her with the lid. Annie tries to break her sword over Ash's head the third time but the sword stays intact despite the great force. Ash swings for the fences and crashes the distorted can lid across the Hardcore Queen's face, staggering her backwards towards the turnbuckles. Ash takes the bokken out of her hands and pushes her the rest of the way to the corner, only to irish whip her across the ring. Annie lands backfirst into the corner and slumps against it. Ash picks up the sword and runs full speed at his opponent with the weapon held up high. Just as he swings downward with the bokken, Annie falls to her side and locks her feet around Ash's incoming ankle. The drop toe hold forces Ketchum to confront the second turnbuckle before bouncing away with his face in his hands.

 

Stevens: Excellent counter by Eclectic.

 

Riley: Now that they've started fighting for real after fighting to show who's the bigger fucktard.

 

Stevens: Now Bobby, I understand you can't quite understand the subtle psychology a hardcore match entails, being the complete and total wet wimp that you are.

 

Riley: I resent that! I was a champion in this league!

 

Stevens: Really? I must have blinked and missed it.

 

Bringing her opponent up to his feet, Annie E throws a right jab, right jab,right jab, left hook combination. Ketchum wobbles a bit from the boxing combination and gets knocked down as Eclectic follows with a clothesline. Annie covers as Chioda drops to the mat to count....

 

 

ONE...

 

TWO... kickout!

 

Riley: Why even cover there? No one would go down for three from a stupid punch combination.

 

Stevens: No, but when you can you -always- make a cover Riley, it's the little things you have to do to become a champion. I know you can't understand this....

 

Riley: Dammit, Mark! I was a champion here, remember?

 

Stevens: Uh.... no, no I don't really.

 

Riley grumbles.

 

Eclectic mounts Ash's chest after the kickout and begins punching his unprotected face. Ash tries to swing his arms up to deflect a blow, but instead ends up grazing Annie's eyes, knocking the Hardcore Queen off his chest and rolling away, holding her eyes in pain. The crowd applaudes from Ash's ingenuity to escape the onslaught. Ketchum pushes her further, rolling her off the ring apron to the floor and following outside himself. Chioda walks through the ropes and hops to the outside. Ash picks Annie up and irish whips her hard into the steel steps. Eclectic arches back on impact, screaming in pain as she holds her back.

 

Stevens: Ketchum must have done his homework well, but anyone having watched Annie's matches of late, from the best of five to her US win has seen her ribs and back just take an immense beating. Ash goes straight to his opponent's weak spot, another sign of a champion. Did you ever do this Riley?

 

Riley: YES GOD DAMN IT! I was the United States Champion! You know, the belt that bitch currently has, ruining my legacy?

 

Stevens: I can't see how she's ruining your legacy if you used to let men violate you while you wore it.

 

Riley: What crawled up your ass this morning?

 

Stevens: Not you and I thank god for that every morning.

 

Seeing the opportunity to end the match quick, Ash flips the apron up and rummages under the ring. He finally pulls himself out dragging a folding table with him. He frantically sets the table up on the concrete as his opponent begins to rise. He turns just in time to catch a rushing Annie, and flip her over his back.... but Annie catches the table in the corner of her eye. In a split second she grabs Ash's waist tightly and slides down his back and pulling herself through his legs. Ash falls backwards and rolls on his back as Annie finishes the sunset flip pin...

 

ONE... kickout!

 

Stevens: Incredible ring sense by Eclectic to avoid the backdrop onto the table. That may have put her out of it early!

 

Riley: And we'd be down one less smarmy bitch, I can't see how you're pleased about this.

 

Both Ash and Annie roll away from each other on the Ketchum kickout. Reaching his feet, Ash rushes in for a clothesline only to be pushed forward as Annie ducks and shoves him away from behind. Ketchum tries to stop his momentum but is too late as he runs into the steel steps, dislodging the top half from the ring post. Annie catches up to the champion and grabs him by the hair, slamming his face into the cold hard steel. A second time, third, fourth, fifth... and Annie releases her opponent's head from her grasp upon impact. Ash recoils up and backwards, falling flat on his back on the concrete. Reaching underneath the ring, Annie pulls out the first flat metal object she can find.... a stop sign. She places the sign over Ash's face and hops up to the ring apron, only to fly off... landing a vicious elbow drop onto the sign! Holding her hurting elbow, Annie pushes the sign away with her feet and attempts another cover....

 

 

ONE...

 

TWO...

 

THR...KICKOUT!

 

Riley: Damn! I thought we were down one pokemon obsessed freak there.

 

Stevens: Ash Ketchum is HARDCORE! He HAS to have a concussion from that, but he still musters enough to kick out of the pin! Anyways Riley, what are you going to do when one of these two win? You do realize that's going to happen...

 

Riley: Simple, I'll grab the Hardcore belt myself and smash the winner over the head with it.

 

Stevens: Like you'd know what to do with a title belt.

 

Riley: SHUT UP damn you!

 

Annie mounts Ash's chest and wails away on his forehead and face again. Ash tries in vain to dodge the blows but has little to no mobility, just enough to swing his arms... which he does right into Annie's ribs. The blows slow for a couple seconds as the shot takes it's toll, enough for Ash to muster enough strength to land a second one. The third one stops the blows from raining down enough for Ash to roll them both over, with Ketchum now having the upper hand over his opponent. Ash starts to pummel Annie's ribs as the Hardcore Queen lies and writhes in pain. Annie tries to separate herself with her legs, finally gaining enough purchase on Ash's body to push herself away on the concrete. Ash gets up and grabs Annie's flailing legs in his hands. Locking her feet underneath his arms, he pulls his opponent up, dangling her in front of him.... until he falls back, catapulting her up and over him, flying forward until she lands... doubled over on the steel steps! Annie's weight finally knocks the top half of the steps loose and off of the bottom half. Annie instinctively clutches it as the both roll off and crash to the floor.

 

Stevens: My GOD! That HAS to have cracked a rib at least! Even the crowd is stunned from that shot!

 

Riley: Good, one of these two has finally taken out the other, and I'll take Ash out when he's done. Everyone wins then!

 

Stevens: Ash should normally go for the cover here, but he's looking to finish it all here.... I'd say that was a mistake but after that slingshot to the steps, I'd be hard pressed to see Annie pull anything off now!

 

Ash positions the steel steps on Annie's chest to cover her ribs, then stands on the remaining lower half of steps above Annie. Jumping off, he lands in a sitting position on the upper half! Ash simply remains seated as Chioda goes for the count...

 

ONE....

 

TWO....

 

THRE...Annie rolls Ash off to kick out! The crowd cheers and applaudes the heart shown in the kickout.

 

Stevens: Even though you can't be all that balanced sitting on steps that are on a small woman's chest, I'm shocked Annie had -any- strength to push Ash off.

 

Riley: Well, perhaps he should break a few more ribs and make sure she stays down next time.

 

Ash comes up to his knees, holding three fingers up to Billy Chioda's face in frustration but the referee persists on saying two. Ketchum looks towards his opponent, who is simply holding her ribs as tears drop from her eyes to the concrete. Inhaling sharply, Ash brings Annie E up to her feet and drives a knee hard into her ribs. The Hardcore Queen doubles over, then finds her head locked between Ash's legs. Ketchum double underhooks Annie's arms... then heaves her high up in the air as he releases, grabbing her in mid air and guiding her onto his bent knee. Eclectic arches in half over Ash's knee, screaming out in agony as she rolls off and comes to a stop face first on the concrete. Looking to his right, Ash walks towards the announcer table, turning the ring corner to get there. He passes Bobby Riley and Mark Stevens to get to the Timekeeper's table and force him off his chair.

 

Stevens: Now what is Ash doing here?

 

Riley: Looks like he's getting a chair Mark...

 

Stevens: I KNOW THAT! But what could he possibly have in store for Annie Eclectic?

 

Riley: Well if you ask me, he might just be thinking of hitting Annie... with the chair.

 

Stevens: Bobby, shut up and daydream of winning a belt again.

 

Riley: I WAS THE US CHAMP!!!!

 

Stevens: And I was once Mary, Queen of Scots.

 

The crowd starts to buzz as Ash slides into the ring with chair in hand. He crosses over to the opposite corner by his fallen opponent and begins climbing. Reaching the top rope Ash turns his back towards Annie E and holds the chair close to his chest and feet down. Taking another quick look back, Ash sees his opponent still where he left her. Taking a deep breath, Ash leaps off the top rope... flipping backwards and landing on NOTHING BUT CONCRETE! Ash flips over on impact, the air taken completely out of his lungs. Annie brings herself painfully up to her knees by Ash's side where she rolled away to and drapes an arm over her opponent....

 

 

ONE....

 

TWO....

 

THR....KICKOUT!

 

Stevens: Close but no cigar! Ash nearly loses after going for it all with a Chairsault to the outside! That was incredibly crazy and risky but that's how you fight these matches. It's all high risk and anything can win it for you.

 

Riley: So you're supporting my theory that you have to be a complete idiot to take part in these matches?

 

Stevens: No... just saying it's a high risk in the Hardcore division.

 

Riley: Tomato... tomahto... whatever.

 

Annie forces Ash to his feet, looking to finish the match for herself. She puts a single finger in the air then traps Ash's head in a front face lock. She grabs his belt and lifts Ash up.... about an inch before putting him back down on the ground. Annie attempts to lift him high again but can't lift his body more then a centimeter...

 

Stevens: She could take him out with the Annie-T but no cigar as her ribs are in just too much pain for it.

 

Riley: You mean this is going to go on -longer-? *sigh* I better be greatly compensated for this.

 

Air finally finds it's way into Ash's lungs, and his brain suddenly figures out his current predicament. Ketchum sends a weak punch into Annie's side, but it's enough to break the front face lock. Annie reels back from the throbbing pain in her ribs but then drives an elbow into the back of Ash's head before he can straighten up. Ketchum falls to one knee as the strike adds more pain to his already throbbing head... a head which gets place in another front face lock. Instinct tells his arm to lash out at Annie's side again, breaking the hold. This time Ash doesn't give Annie enought time to bring him down again, kicking her hard in the stomach, dropping -her- to one knee in pain. Picking up the chair on the ground, Ash walks backwards three steps and points towards the rising Annie E as the crowd's cheers rise in anticipation...

 

Stevens: He's calling for the Air Ketchum! This could be it right here!

 

Riley: We can only hope!

 

Annie straightens herself up to full height only to instinctively catch the steel chair thrown at her... but intuition then tells her to duck out of the way, forcing Ash's spinning roundhouse kick to catch nothing but air! Spinning around, Annie sees the three foot space between her and Ketchum and promptly throws the chair back at Ash. The Undercard King catches the weapon just as Annie sidesteps and delivers a superkick to the chair! Ash's head whips back and forth as he drops like a sack of potatoes from the blow. The crowd pops huge for the reversal.

 

Stevens: What a see saw match we have here for the Hardcore belt! Annie uses her smarts to keep from becoming another PokeVictim at the hands of Ketchum, and uses his own move against him!

 

Riley: You know, I'm right at my breaking point watching these two nimrods beat the crap out of each other and get cheered for it, do I really have to deal with you using words like "PokeVictim" too?

 

Stevens: I'll tell you what, win a belt and I'll calm down.

 

Riley: YOU'RE REALLY PISSING ME OFF NOW!

 

Stevens: Awww... deal with it junior.

 

Dragging Ash back to his feet, Annie sets up the champion for a suplex.... but only lifts him up a couple inches before her ribs scream out in pain for her to stop. Eclectic decides to release the lock but finds herself unable to as Ketchum refuses to let her. Annie panicks and tries a second time to lift him up but fails miserably as Ketchum lifts Eclectic up instead, bringing her up and over.... backfirst onto the bottom half of the steel steps! Ash wastes no time in hooking a leg as Chioda drops to count the pin on the steps....

 

ONE...

 

TWO...

 

THREE....NO! Annie kicks out!

 

Stevens: Annie couldn't finish Ash off... and Ash can't seem to put Annie down for three either! This may just go to a knockout!

 

Riley: DOUBLE knockout! I want a double knockout!

 

Ash brings himself up to his knees in exasperation. Standing up to full height, he aims his elbow at Annie's side and drops it square into her ribs. Eclectic whimpers in pain as the pain in her ribs is enhanced a little bit more. Ash rolls Annie off the steps and drops a knee into her back for good measure before bringing her up to her feet. Ash stalls for a split second, unsure of what to do next until he sees... the table. Dragging Annie by her hair towards the wooden table, Ash tries to force her onto the table but Annie holds herself still and stops him. Ash makes a second attempt to roll Eclectic onto the table by her hair but she holds her ground. Ketchum suddenly sends a knee into her ribs, doubling her over. Ash then rolls Annie onto the table with no problem at all. Ash pulls the table perpendicular to the close ring corner... then slides into the ring. He holds onto the top rope with one hand and deliberatly slaps his knee with the other.

 

Stevens: He's going for the "Poke Ball GO!". One of the craziest aerial moves in the history of the SWF! If he lands a Shooting Star Knee Drop onto Annie's ribs, it's over, period, end of story!

 

Riley: Thank GOD.

 

The crowd cheers loudly as Ash climbs up to the top rope and stands to his full height. Looking down he sees... and empty table, and Annie E on the ground next to it. Sighing, he leans down and hops gently onto the ring apron and then down to the ground. Turning around to face his opponent.... Ash gets a face full of foot as Annie Superkicks Ash onto the table! Annie franticly tries to straighten Ash onto the table with one arm, holding her hurt ribs with the other. Picking up the steel chair, Annie crashes the weapon down onto Ash's head twice. Having his head sandwiched between steel and wood, Ash starts to feel conciousness slipping away from his mind as Annie repositions the table near the corner.... the slides into the ring herself and begins to climb.

 

Stevens: Now -Annie- is going up top... this is crazy! Her ribs have to be bruised, maybe broken and I can't think of any move from the top rope that won't hurt her more!

 

Riley: I told you Mark, these two are flat out insane and need to be in an institution.

 

Stevens: They aren't insane, they're determined. Annie has wanted to be Hardcore Champion since she entered this league. She's the "Hardcore Queen", and she looks to want to win at all costs....

 

Taking an extra second to balance herself, Annie winces looking at her opponent flat out on the table below her. Eclectic holds her hand out in a handgun gesture and points it at Ash Ketchum. The crowd pops huge at the realization of Annie's intentions.... Annie shoots the imaginary gun, the leaps high off the top rope, tumbling forward four hundred and fifty degrees and splashing down hard onto Ash Ketchum, breaking the table in the process as both crash to the floor. Chioda checks the condition of both athletes as Annie groans in pain. Seeing one fighter still alive and on top of the other, Billy starts to count....

 

 

 

ONE....

 

THO....

 

THREE!!!!!

 

 

 

DING DING DING

 

 

The crowd explodes in cheers for both the finish and the winner....

 

 

Funyon: Your winner.... and NEW S W F Hardcore Champion.... The Hardcore Queen... ANNNNIIIIEEEE EEEEEECLEEEEECTIIIIIC!!!!

 

 

"Angry Johnny" begins to play over the Arena as Annie barely gets up to her knees for Chioda to raise her hand.

 

Stevens: SHE DID IT! This was an incredibly valiant match from both fighters, but Annie Eclectic comes out on top and finally gets the one belt she's been after since her entry to the league!

 

Riley: Whoopedy do, I really don't....

 

 

 

Suddenly the arena goes pitch black.

 

 

Riley: ....care?

 

The buzz of confusion sweeps over the crowd as the music cuts out. Silence tries to take hold of the arena except for the murmur of the spectators.... until a high pitched scream cuts through the air.

 

 

Stevens: Riley! Not so loud!

 

Riley: Ha ha... That wasn't me.

 

Stevens: ...uh oh.

 

Suddenly three blazing white kanji appear on the SmarkTron, creating an eerie aura within the stadium. Just as fast it cuts out as the lights once again return to normal. Cameras scramble to see what might have happened... until the ringside camera gets preference on screen and shows the aftermath. Annie Eclectic is lying completely still with a severe cut across her forehead and both belts laid across her chest. Ash Ketchum however is propped on the intact lower half of the steps, bloody from head to toe, and head hung limp below him. Choida lifts his head to see blood rushing from Ash's mouth. He calls out for help as medics rush to the ring.

 

 

Stevens: WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT? Why would someone upstage this incredible battle between these two to attack Ash when he was knocked out?

 

Riley: Now THIS is what I wanted to see! YEAH!

 

Stevens: I'm sorry folks, we have to go to commercial, and maybe we can get more information for you all... so stay tuned to SWF Storm!

 

Fade out on the bloodied former champion...

[Guest BA_Baracus]

We return from an extremely long commercial break, to the anarchy of the sold out Ford Center! After almost two hours of wrestling, the arena reeks of cheap beer and body odor. The fans are going crazy from impatience, as the evening’s Main Event draws near.

 

Stevens: Welcome back to SWF Storm, and what a night we’ve had so far! We have seen Ash take on Annie Eclectic in a wild Hardcore Match that has to be seen to believe...

 

Riley: Yeah, who would have thought that..............

 

Stevens: Shhhhh! Remember were not allowed to discuss previous matches, incase someone’s just now tuning in. If they want to know who won, they have to watch the replay of show, which will immediately follow the live broadcast at 11:00 p.m.

 

Riley: Assuming we actually get out of here on time, which has never (beep)ing happened!

 

Stevens: Well, considering tonight’s Main Event, I wouldn’t mind working overtime.

 

Riley: That’s right! Because tonight’s Main Event will feature that little midget bastard, El Luchadore Magnifico, getting his ass handed to him by the team of Sacred and Danny Williams.

 

Stevens: No fans that’s not a typical Riley screw up. Do to some legal trouble, Perfect Bo will not be able to participate in tonight’s Main Event. So Danny Williams will be taking his place.

 

Riley: Danny Williams may not be a Perfect Bo, but he is still a badass that can get the job done.

 

Stevens: Indeed, the booking tonight defiantly favors Creative Control. Somehow I get the feeling that Stubby isn’t to pleased with the idea of another Magnifico Title reign.

 

Riley: Because everyone knows that midget’s don’t draw. Stubby knows what’s best for this company, you should have saw how the buy rates went up when Sacred was our reigning Champ.

 

Stevens: Anyway, some critics like my colleague here, still feel like ELM has not achieved the same level of greatness as past champions like Stubby, Suicide King, Edwin Machpisto, or the Thugg.

 

Riley: Your damn right. Whoring out the title to every challenger that comes along and losing nontitle matches to Frost, isn’t going to make you “The Man.” ELM may have beating “The Man”, but he sure as hell hasn’t became him.

 

Stevens: True, but if he were to over come the odds, and somehow pull of the win tonight he will certainly be on his way.

 

Funyon enters the ring, prompting the rowdy fans to hold their tongues and quiet down.

 

Funyon: Ladies and Gentlemen, WELCOME TO THE MAIN EVEEEEEEEEEEEENT!!!!

 

The silence is broken with howls, cheers, screams, and other loud noises in celebration of the evening’s final match. “UNO! DOS! TRES! CUATRO!” blasts over the PA, with an orange blast of pyro shooting out of the ring posts like a volcano. Despite the volume being cranked up all the way, the fans still manage to drown out Bunch of Believers with their cheers. Suddenly, ELM bursts from behind the curtain, proudly waving his country’s flag like he’s marching to a battle.

 

“MAG-NI-FICO!”, rabidly chants the fans, over and over at the top of their lungs.

 

Stevens: THERE HE IS THE SWF CHAMPION!!!

 

Riley: Dead man walking, folks.

 

It takes a couple of minutes for the fans to calm down, and once they do the Smarktron turns into nothing but snow. The camera turns from technocolor to black and white, and “Save Yourself” by Stabbing Westward lets the fans know who is about to make his entrance.

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” hisses the fans, as Sacred struts out of the locker room. Williams trots along behind Sacred, when a sign in the crowd catches his attention. The front of sign reads “Dang Jethro”, but the back has some suspicious looking Japanese symbols on it. After living in Japan for several years, Williams instantly recognizes the symbols. His face turns red with anger, and he growls some orders to security guards. The yellow shirts make their way to the fan, and snatch his sign from him.

 

Riley: I would hate to be Magnifico right now, If I was him I would just get myself D.Q.ed.

 

Stevens: I think Magnifico is far to proud, to take a coward’s way out. He’s going to do his best to win this match, as unlikely as it seems.

 

With all three men in the ring, Funyon starts the introductions.

 

Funyon: The following contest is a Non Title Handicap Bout, and scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, weighing in at 193 pounds, hailing from Mexico City..........HE IS YOUR SWF WORLD CHAMPION.................EL LUCHADORE MAGNIFICOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

The chant starts up again, as ELM hops on the second turnbuckle and sucks in their cheers.

 

Funyon: And his opponents, weighing in at a combined weight of 470 pounds, the team of DANNY WILLIAMS........AND SAAAAAAAAAAAAACRED!

 

Sacred blocks out the endless jeers of the crowd, and gives Danny some last minute instructions, as Funyon exits the ring. DING! DING! DING! ELM nervously turns his head back and forth, not wanting to take his eyes off his foes for a second. Williams leaves the sanctuary of his corner, and nods reluctantly as Sacred shouts last second instructions. Confused as to why only Williams is stepping up, ELM remains in his corner with a puzzled look on his face. Sacred remains in his corner, shouting some encouraging words at Williams like “Go get him, Danny!”. ELM shakes his head in disgust, as it is now clear what Sacred’s plan is.

 

Stevens: It seems that Sacred is going to use young Danny Williams to soften Magnifico up, while he just sets back on his ass and does nothing. Very cowardly and repulsive if you ask me.

 

Riley: What? You would prefer that they just double team Magnifico, and stomp him into hamburger meat.

 

Stevens: No! If Sacred was any kind of man, he would tell Danny to step aside, and fight his own battles.

 

ELM feels the same way as Sacred, and shouts some taunts in Mexican at his Australian rival. Sacred just ignores him, and orders Williams to take him out. ELM rolls his eyes, and meets Williams off in the center of the ring. ELM offers Williams a hand shake, and not one to show respect, Williams just bashes him with an Elbow Smash! Sacred disturbingly busts into hysterical laughter, and takes a seat on the top turnbuckle so he can enjoy the show. Williams pushes the stunned Champion into the ropes, and shoots him off with an Irishwhip! Williams rushes to the center of the ring, in hopes of cutting ELM off. But ELM holds on to the ropes, charges Sacred’s corner, and nails the vulnerable Aussie with a lighting quick Dropkick! Sacred flips off the turnbuckle, smacks his back on the apron, and splats on the floor!

 

Riley: Now what cause was there for him to do that? Sacred didn’t do anything!

 

Stevens: Magnifico has wrestled Sacred enough to know that he take full advantage of any opening he can get, no matter how dishonorable and disgusting it might be. Magnifico probably didn’t want to spend the whole match looking over his shoulder, so he took the initiative and took Sacred out of the match for now.

 

The crowd pops big, while Williams responds by freezing in place from shock. Williams comes back to reality, and rushes ELM as he climbs back to his feet. Williams extends his arm for his Hooking Lariat, but ELM causally side steps him, and trips him up with a Drop Toe Hold! Williams falls face first into the top turnbuckle pad, allowing ELM to easily roll him up with a School Boy!

 

Stevens: A SCHOOL BOY! Williams is a sucker for those!

 

Before Hunt can even start the count, Williams rolls to his feet, grabs ELM’s arm, and falls back for the Cross Arm Breaker!

 

Riley: It appears that you and ELM both forgot that Williams came up with a clever way to counter the School Boy!

 

Williams tries to straighten ELM’s arm out, but before he can, ELM rolls over on his knees, folding Williams up with another School Boy! The crowd screams along with Hunt’s count!

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

“Ohhhhhhhhh!”, sighs the crowd as Williams manages to escape the slick roll up! Williams rushes back to his feet, but ELM get’s up first and blasts him with a hard Dropkick! ELM’s boots knocks the wind out of Williams, sending him back paddling on the heels of his boots. Unlike ELM’s prediction, Williams regains his balance and doesn’t go down. Not wanting to get ambushed as he gets up, ELM returns to his feet with a kip up! Just as ELM expected, Williams rushes him as he gets up. Williams charge is a few seconds too late, and he falls victim to another Drop Toe Hold! This time, ELM locks his hands around his face for the Sangria Stretch! The fans jump to their feet, surprised at the possibility that the match may already be over.

 

Stevens: THE SANGRIA STRETCH! I haven’t seen Williams miss this many blind charges since his debut match against Thoth.

 

Riley: Williams must be feeling the pressure of being in his first Main Event since War Games, because ELM is making him look like a clueless, green, rookie in there.

 

Williams holds out his hand, and prepares to tap, but Sacred breaks up the submission with a dickish kick to ELM’s mouth! Sacred looks a little weary, but he appears to not be that hurt from the fall. ELM rolls off Williams, making him easy prey for some stomps. Sacred takes full advantage, and stomps a mud hole in the fan favorite while the fans “boo” away. Sacred knows it’s going to take a lot more than that to keep the champ down, so pulls him up to his feet, and shoves him against the ropes. Sacred lays in some stiff chops to his chest, and sends him running across the ring with an Irishwhip. Sacred fires a Roundhouse Kick at ELM on the rebound, but the experienced Luchadore wisely rolls underneath his boot. ELM rolls to his feet and attempts to take advantage of the situation like he did at Dissection, but Sacred surprises him with a Jumping Mule Kick to the gut! ELM doubles over slightly, and Sacred sets him up for a Suplex! THUMP! Sacred snaps back, slamming ELM into the mat so hard, that he actually bounces! Sacred doesn’t even bother with a pin, instead he pulls ELM to his feet with a rear waistlock, which he adjusts into a Full Nelson!

 

Stevens: Sacred looking for the Dragon Suplex!

 

Riley: He should really use that move more often, I doubt it’s a move that Magnifico is expecting him to use. It could be the Ace up the Sleeve that Sacred needs to finally defeat Magnifico once and for all.

 

Sacred tries to bridge back, but the champion desperately blocks it with a leg grapevine. Sacred barks some orders at Williams, who is just now recovering. Williams does exactly what Sacred says, and bounces off the ropes. Williams picks some speed, and fires a brutal Running Elbow! CRACK! ELM escapes the Nelson, letting Williams lay out his own partner! Williams doesn’t dwell on his mistake, and quickly turns his attention back to his opponent. Williams finds that ELM is waiting for him in a kicking stance! Smack! Smack! ELM drills Williams’ ribs with a pair of Roundhouse Kicks, finishing the combo with a Superkick! Williams catches ELM’s boot before it would bust his face, and pulls him into a nasty Back Elbow Smash!

 

Riley: If Magnifico would have paid better attention to the Williams/Xero match on last Storm, he would have known that that very mistake cost Xero the match. You do remember that Williams defeated Magnifico cleanly, just weeks before he captured the World Title a second time.

 

Stevens: Yes that was on. Williams knocked the World Champ out, with his trademark Rolling Elbow!

 

ELM is out on in his feet, a perfect scenario for the trademark strike that Stevens just mentioned. Williams shuffles his feet into a 360 spin, and fires the Rolling Elbow! ELM instinctively ducks the first attempt and catches Williams in a rear waistlock.. ELM lifts him up for the Suplex, only to get stabbed in the temple with Williams’ sharp elbows! Williams plants his feet back on the mat, escapes the waistlock, performs a graceful 360 spin, and fires the Rolling Elbow!

 

Riley: He’s got him this time!

 

Williams only hits air, as ELM spins behind him and catches him another rear waistlock. This time, ELM tosses Williams into the air before he can escape! Thump! Williams lands grotesquely on the skull, and bounces lifelessly on to his back. The fans pop loudly for the first head drop of the night, as does Stevens.

 

Stevens: GERMAN SUPLEX! DANGEROUS GERMAAAAAAAAAAAAN! In their last match, Williams was able to hit the Rolling Elbow, but this time ELM saw it coming.

 

Scared slowly crawls to his hands and knees, only to be sent back to the mat with a Leg Drop to the back of the neck! With Sacred down again, ELM goes back to work on Danny. ELM helps his drowsy victim to his feet, and sets him up for a Suplex. ELM hooks Williams’ leg, and the crowd goes apeshit. ELM lifts Williams up, and drives his skull into the mat at a perfect vertical angle! Thump!

 

Stevens: BARRIOOOOOOOOOOOOOO BUSTAH!!!

 

Williams bounces off his head, and doesn’t move another muscle. He just lays perfectly still, with his eyes closed and his mouth lifelessly hanging open. Wondering if Williams survived the sick move, Hunt checks Williams pulse before allowing ELM to cover him.

 

Riley: Oh my god, that was the sickest Fisherman Buster I’ve ever seen. Williams’ neck may have been broken.

 

 

ELM hooks Williams’ limp leg for the pin, and the crowd counts along with Hunt.

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Sacred breaks up the pin, with a dickish stomp to the back of ELM’s head. With ELM shaking off the effects of the stomp, Sacred takes the opportunity to roll Williams’ corpse out of the ring.

 

Riley: What a nice guy that Sacred is, rolling his young partner out of the ring to protect him from further punishment.

 

Stevens: I’d say he’s more concerned about Williams getting pinned, than Williams’ actual health.

 

Sacred takes one last chance to cast a glance at his so called partner in hopes that he is starting to wake up, but Williams is still unconscious on the floor. Sacred rolls his eyes, and than focuses them on the champ who is on his feet and cautiously approaching him. Both men very carefully, circle each other, searching for an opening. Excited by the possibility of seeing Sacred and ELM one on one, the fans combust into screams and cheers. Sacred and ELM jab at each other with low kicks aimed for the thigh, but none of them make any contact. Frustrated that they can’t find any offense, the two are forced to find another means of attack. So they lock up in a collar elbow tie up, in hopes of building an offense from there. Sacred easily gains the advantage on his shorter foe, with a text book headlock. ELM slips out of Sacred’s arms, and twists his left arm into a hammerlock.

 

Stevens: With Williams out of the way, were finally going to get to see some quality wrestling action.

 

Riley: Now that’s a sentence I thought I’d never hear.

 

Sacred walks ELM in circle, pondering an escape. Sacred catches ELM napping, and escapes the hammerlock with a drop toe hold. Sacred quickly grape vines ELM’s legs so he can’t get up, drives his knees into his back, and pulls him up into a Bow and Arrow Lock! ELM’s tortured screams feel the now quiet arena, as Sacred does everything in his power to break him in half. ELM knows for sure that Sacred will hold him up there all day if he has too, and that his only way out is escape. With his back creaking and cracking, ELM uses both his hands to pry Sacred’s arm off his neck! Now free, ELM falls on top of Sacred for a lateral press, but Sacred pushes him off before Hunt can even get a one count. With ELM”s back a mess, Sacred has no trouble beating him to his feet. Sacred cruelly stomps ELM’s back a few times, before pulling him up into a standing head scissors.

 

Stevens: It looks like Sacred’s setting ELM up for a..............Powerbomb?

 

Riley: The Powerbomb really isn’t a move that Sacred excels at, I suppose he might be dusting it off to do some more damage to ELM’s back.

 

Sacred hoists the junior heavy weight up with no trouble, but what he doesn’t count on is ELM’s flipping over his head, and pulling him down into a Reverse Victory Roll! The silence is broken, as the excited fans scream with joy.

 

Stevens: THAT’S THE SAME ROLL UP THAT BEAT SACRED AT DISSECTION!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO1/2!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sacred rolls on to his feet, grabs both of ELM’s legs, and rolls him over into a Boston Crab!

 

Riley: What a sweet counter by Sacred! All the truly great wrestlers learn from their past mistakes, making it almost impossible to beat them the same way twice.

 

ELM pounds his fists into the mat, in search of some type of relief from the hellish pain he’s suffering in. Every single muscle in ELM’s small frame becomes visible, as he strains to do a push up to relieve the pressure. Veins bulge out of his neck, and his eyes become blood shot, but the strain is not in vain as he somehow manages to elevate his torso off the mat. Sacred struggles to keep ELM in the hold, but the Champ walks on his hands to the ropes, forcing him to release the hold. Sacred isn’t too tore up about it though, the move served it’s purpose in wearing down his enemy’s defenses. Sacred is so confident in fact that he lets ELM pull himself up with the ropes, of course he kicks him in the back a few times. Sacred shoots ELM off the ropes with an Irishwhip, and catches him in a devastating Tilt A Whirl Back Breaker! ELM spasms about on the mat like a fish out of water, grabbing his battered spine.

 

Riley: It is now clear that Sacred’s game plan is to target Magnifico’s back. Personally I would go over after the right leg, but to each his own.

 

Stevens: I’m sure Sacred’s thought of that, but maybe he knows that Magnifico would probably be expecting that. The back work seems to have caught Magnifico off guard, as well as limit mobility.

 

Riley: Plus, two of Sacred’s favorite moves target the back. The , and . It’s all falling into place now.

 

Sacred knows that ELM is a badass, so he doesn’t bother to cover. Meanwhile on the outside, Williams has regained conscious but he is far to weak to move. He remains laying on his back, staring blankly up at the arena lights.

 

Stevens: You know, I’m really worried about Danny Williams. He has been unconscious for close to three minutes now.

 

Riley: That was one nasty move he took, Stevens. Sadly, I think he’s done for the night.

 

Back in the ring, Sacred opts to continue working over ELM’s back, so he pulls him up into a standing head scissors. Sacred tosses ELM all the way over his head, lets him slide down his back, and hooks his arms, trapping him in a Gory Special! “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH” screams ELMS, as Sacred doubles over deep as humanly possible in an effort to rip ELM’s thin body in half! The crowd tires to get ELM through it, with an encouraging “MAG-NI-FICO!” chant. Hunt waits a few moments, and asks ELM if he wants to quit! ELM is in too much pain to verbally respond, all he can do is shake his head “No”. Sacred comes to the conclusion that it will be a lot easier to pin ELM than make him submit, so he drops to his knees, pinning ELM’s shoulders to the mat with a Back Slide! The crowd knows this isn’t enough to keep ELM down, and don’t even stand up.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

ELM kicks out to the surprise of no one. Not giving ELM a chance to recover, Sacred pulls him up and sends him into the ropes with another Irishwhip! This time Sacred catches ELM with a ring shaking Black Number One! Sacred folds ELM up, and leans deep for the pin. The pin catches the fan’s by surprise this time, and they pop out of their seats as Hunt starts the count.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ELM kicks out! Unlike the fans, Sacred isn’t really surprised, he causally pulls ELM up and hooks his head for the Spanish Inquisition! ELM knows his back isn’t an any condition to take this move, so he summons what power he has left to drive some back elbows into Sacred’s temple! Sacred is caught completely off guard, allowing ELM to reverse the Uranage into a Suplex setup!

 

 

Stevens: We saw this at Dissection, when ELM reversed the Spanish Inquisition into a Brainbuster!

 

ELM tires to lift Sacred up, but his back explodes with pain on the attempt, giving Sacred enough time to recover from the elbows, and come back with some hard knees to the gut! Sacred pulls his head out of ELM’s armpit, rehooks his head, and drives him into the mat with a powerful Spainsh Inquisition!

 

Riley: Once again, Sacred corrects the mistakes of his last match! If things keep going this way, I think ELM is going to lose yet another non title match, proving once and for all how undeserving he is of that belt.

 

Sacred signals it’s all over for ELM, and pulls him to a vertical base with a Full Nelson! This usually doesn’t mean a good thing, so ELM darts for the ropes! Sacred keeps the Full Nelson tightly applied, and drags his victim from the safety of the ropes. Sacred leans back, suspending ELM off the mat! Before Sacred can bridge back, ELM sees his one chance of escape and goes for it! ELM shuts his eyes tightly and nervously waits for the exact moment that Sacred bridges back, and than kicks his feet off the ropes! KA-THUMP! ELM lands right on top of Sacred, head butting him with the back of his cranium in the process! ELM bites down on his own teeth, gingerly straightens out his sore back, and stands up. Sacred is still rolling around on the mat, clutching his face like someone took a torch to it. ELM helps Sacred to his feet, only to get rewarded with a kick to the bread basket! ELM doubles over out of breath, allowing Sacred to slap on a front facelock!

 

Riley: It looks like Magnifico is about to suffer from a Cruel Fate!

 

Sacred jumps backwards, only to find out in mid air that ELM hasn’t come along for the ride! Splat! Sacred lands face first on the unforgiven mat! Unable to feel his face, Sacred looks up at ELM with watering ideas, wondering what went wrong. It doesn’t take long for Sacred to see, that ELM has his outside arm wrapped around the top rope. ELM refills his lungs with air, and bounces off the ropes. The last thing Sacred sees before blacking out, is ELM’s boots sliding towards his face! SMACK! ELM drills Sacred’s face with a Baseball Slide, that turns the former World Champion into a limb carcass.

 

Stevens: What a match this has turned out to be! We thought we were going to see a complete squash, but Magnifico is putting up one hell of a fight!

 

Instead of covering Sacred for the pin, ELM pulls him up by his arm, and lifts him over one of his shoulders. Unable to support Sacred’s body weight for too long, ELM scrambles to the nearest corner, and sits his nemesis on the top turnbuckle. The members of the audience lucky enough to remember to bring flash photography, frantically reload their cameras so they won’t be caught out of film during the up coming high spot. ELM starts his long climb to the top rope, but Sacred comes back to life when he reaches the second rope. Sacred starts slinging his trademark forearms into ELM’s jaw, but with out in any leverage in his weakened state they do no damage. ELM puts a stop to the annoying come back attempt, with some nasty head butts to the nose! With Sacred finally subdued, ELM completes his journey to the top rope. Camera flashes feel the arena with so much light, you need sunglasses to see what’s going. With no regard for his own body, ELM back flips off the top rope, slamming Sacred into the mat with a beautiful Super Hurricanrana! ELM stays on top of Sacred’s corpse for the pin, but before Hunt can start the count, Sacred hooks his legs over ELM’s arms, and pulls him down into a seated pin. The crowd is in complete shock, as ELM rapidly kicks his legs into the air unable to escape the pin.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO1/2!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO! One of ELM’s boots makes contact with Sacred’s nose, sending him back down to the mat. ELM rolls to his feet, unnerved to the fact that he was just a fraction of a second away from pissing the match away. ELM isn’t going to make that mistake again, he drops a Leg across Sacred’s throat to keep him down, and positions his body so that it’s horizontal to the ring post. ELM points to the sky, triggering an explosion of cheers.

 

 

Stevens: Is he...YES! Magnifico is going to finish Sacred off with the Mexican Pride Press!

 

ELM steps out on to the apron, and prepares to climb the ring post, but something is stopping him. ELM looks down to see none other than Danny Williams, clutching his boot.

 

Riley: IT’S DANNY! For a second I forget he was even in the damn match.

 

ELM kicks Williams off with his free foot, sending the drowsy grappler stumbling into the guardrail. Clank! With Williams in perfect range, ELM bounces off the second rope, and pancakes him into the guardrail with a god like Asai Moonsault! CLANK! ELM lands on his feet in the front roll, but he doesn’t have time to converse with his screaming fans. Moving with blinding speed, ELM jumps over the guardrail, and restarts his climb of the ring post. By now Sacred is on his feet, but he has no clue as to where he is. ELM dives off the top rope at Sacred, successfully catching him in a front facelock! ELM spins around for the Tornado DDT, but Sacred just tosses him off like a rag doll! However ELM lands on his feet like a cat, and takes Sacred’s head off with a monster Superkick! ELM’s boot connects right with Sacred’s chin, blowing him back into a corner. ELM leads Sacred out of the corner with a front facelock, and hooks him up for the Barrio Buster!

 

Stevens: HE HIT! HE HIT THE BARRIO BUSTAH! If that move can take Williams out of a match for 10 minutes, it can surely keep Sacred down for big three!

 

ELM lifts Sacred up, and drives his skull into the mat! The pumped crowd counts along, as ELM hooks Sacred’s limb leg for the pin!

 

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“THRE-OOOOOOOOOH!” Groans the fans, as Williams dives off the second rope and drops a knee across the back of ELM’s neck!

 

Stevens: WHAT THE HELL! Danny Williams has just literally came out of nowhere to save Sacred!

 

Riley: HA HA! It’s pay back time, Stevens!

 

ELM rolls on the mat, clutching his aching neck. Williams takes a few seconds to mock ELM’s neck pains, before forcing him to his feet with a rear waistlock. Williams tucks his head underneath ELM’s armpit, and lifts him off the mat with ease!

 

Riley: It looks like Williams is setting up Magnifico for the......DANGEROUS BACKDROP!

 

ELM is aware enough to know that he is about to be dropped on his head. Williams prepares to fall back, but ELM stops him by digging some elbows into his neck! After taking a Dangerous German and sick Barrio Buster, Williams neck is as brittle dry bread, and in no shape to take even an elbow. “GAH!” screams Williams as the paralyzing pain in his neck, forces him to set the Champion back on the earth. Once his feet find the ground, ELM trips Williams up with a Drop Toe Hold! ELM casually locks his hands around Williams’ mouth, and pulls with all his might! The once dead crowd, blows the damn roof off the building, muting William’s ear piercing screams.

 

Stevens: WHAT A REVERSAL! SANGRIA STRETCH!

 

Riley: It’s a long way form the ropes too, Stevens. Williams only hope is that maybe Sacred can make the save.

 

Stevens: But he just took the Barrio Buster, remember.

 

Riley: Shit!

 

Not even all the noise of the Ford Center, can wake Sacred up from his slumber, Williams is on his own. With the pain in his neck and back reaching indescribable levels, and no one to save him, Williams starts tapping like a mad man!

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

ELM releases Williams, and Hunt raises his hand into the air to make it official.

 

Funyon: The winner of the match at 17 minutes and 32 seconds, EL LUCHADORE MAGNIFICOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

 

The crowd goes absolutely crazy, and threatens to riot. People are jumping up and down, trying to climb over the guardrail, and throwing whatever isn’t nailed to the floor into the air! ELM grabs his flag, and starts heroically waving it in the air.

 

 

Stevens: That has got to be the greatest single performance of ELM’s career!

 

Riley: I am sure this is a night that Creative Control would like to forget, how the hell did ELM pull this off!

 

Stevens: I have no idea, Riley! Williams may have beat ELM a few months ago, but it’s obvious that ELM has been on a whole other level since than. Williams just could not compete with Magnifico tonight, and made several key mistakes that left Sacred alone with the World Champion for most of the match.

 

Riley: You know, I actually think Sacred would have been better off if Danny wasn’t even in the damn match. He wasn’t even suppose to be in there, in the first place.

 

Stevens: Maybe if Sacred got off to a more serious start, he could have repeated the magic that won him the title awhile back, but one can only speculate. Don’t forget to tune in Monday night at 9:00 p.m for Smarkdown. As for tonight, we are all out of time, good night folks!

[Guest BA_Baracus]

As the feed comes back on, Mark Stevens solemnly addresses the audience.

 

“Up next, Thoth is going to come out and address the crowd. We don’t know what he’s going to say, but it’s commonly believed this is going to announce his retirement.”

 

“And good riddance,” says Riley. “He really became a joke. Dance Dance Revolution? Bemani Cross Whozits? Gimme a break.”

 

“Your worthless opinion aside, I think Thoth contributed a lot to the Smarks Wrestling Federation, and I’m sad to see him go.”

 

“Little Mac’s Confession” starts to play, possibly for the last time, as Thoth, flanked by Ced Ordonez and Mak Francis, who have already competed tonight against M7, walks down the ramp, his head angled slightly down. He tries to ignore the fans on either side of him... it’s really a big struggle to keep to himself as he climbs the steps and stands in the center of the ring. Funyon respectfully hands him the microphone, and Thoth stands with his his head bowed. Slowly, stutteringly, he starts to speak. The fans are deathly silent. They know what they are about to hear is gravely important, as far as the life and livelihood of one man’s career. Perhaps the measure of one man’s career is not the accolades and titles he wins, but the hearts of the men and women that he wins.

 

“I... really don’t know what to say... I mean... I really... I...” He takes a breath. Mak and Ced find it hard not to interrupt. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that Thoth had a good career, you know? And... And... maybe... I just... I don’t have it anymore... I want to... it’s time for Thoth to hang it up... I guess...”

 

“What’s he trying to say?” says Riley, half-heartedly. “Just say I quit, and get it over with!”

 

“I guess that there’s a lot of people... I should thank... and I guess I’ll start with the two people in this very ring... Mak Francis and Ced Ordonez.”

 

He looks out at his fans, and they look at him. With no hate, no disgust. They love him. They truly love him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Which is a damn shame.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thoth turns suddenly and kicks Mak Francis RIGHT IN THE GODDAMN FACE, knocking him to the ground. Before Ced can react, he’s turned upside down, scooped up by Thoth... and SPIKED INTO THE MAT with a Riot of the Blood. The crowd doesn’t understand what’s going on, and it hasn’t quite registered with them. They’re completely silent.

 

“What... what is this?” says Mark Stevens, speechless.

 

Thoth picks up the mic again, his eyes wide, his mouth foaming.

 

“You stupid sheep! Look at you... Ced... Mak... sheep. Sheep unable to see the truth right in front of your eyes. That truth is that you’re a fucking joke. I’m a fucking joke. We’re a fucking joke, standing here in this ring braying like sheep while Tom Flesher is laughing at us over and over again! Do you know what it’s like, hearing him laughing in your goddamn sleep? I can’t think, I can’t focus. He herds us this way and that... But what I have just done is the first clear thing in my mind. Like I said, I thank you... for opening my eyes to this wondrous light and truth! I have broken the yoke of my oppressor and have risen up against him with a will that can be shattered by no man!”

 

At that moment, Mak starts to push himself up, slowly... but Thoth turns toward him and viciously kicks him right in the face again, screaming “STAY DOWN!” Now the fans are booing like crazy. They hate him. Why did they ever believe him?

 

“You people there... you don’t get it either. Don’t you understand what’s at stake here? I’m better than him! I’m better... than everybody! I am king! I am God! I am he who herds you to the greener pastures, leads you when the rain, snow and hail would otherwise kill your defenseless forms, I am HE WHO GIVES YOU LIFE!”

 

More boos.

 

“Thoth is truly dead. I have laid him to rest.” He pauses to look at the crowd, that loved him just a second ago. “And Tom Flesher... Durandal... WHY DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND? I MADE YOU! YOU SHOULDN’T BEAT ME!” he screams at the top of his lungs, his voice peaking in pitch like a banshee’s.

 

“Thoth, of course, referring to last Monday’s loss against Tom Flesher... but I...” Stevens quickly shuts up as Thoth continues his tirade.

 

“I made you, and everything you are... you should respect he who made you of flesh and blood, of this earth... but you shun me. Why? Are you afraid? Don’t be afraid. I can see in your eyes that you truly want to accept me as your God, your savior, and let me bring the light into your life!” He looks out at the SWF fans. “You all... need the light!”

 

The crowd chants back, “Shut the fuck up! *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP*”

 

“Upon this day, consecrated in this ring, indemnified with the blood of these two sacrifices... I hereby declare that Thoth is dead... and that the will of Orochi... is law.” He drops the mic and walks out of the ring, a determined, twisted grin plastered across his face.

 

The commentary is silent... but then Riley picks up the slack: “That... was BRILLIANT! Oh my god! I take back everything I ever said about Thoth! Excuse me, I mean Orochi!”

 

“I... I don’t believe this... Thoth just drove Ced Ordonez through the ring, and viciously kicked Mak Francis twice in the face... what does this mean for the Bemani Cross Wizards? For the tag titles? I... I’m in shock...”

 

The camera focuses on the two bodies in the ring as the camera fades, Ced slowly crawling around, while Mak rolls over onto his back, focusing on his breathing...

 

Fade to black. End Storm.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

SINGLES MATCH

Tod deKindes vs. CIA

- The German-ish guy wins.

 

TAG TEAM MATCH

Ced Ordonez & Mak Francis vs. Tom Flesher & Frost

- Flesher and Frost with the win.

 

HARDCORE TITLE MATCH

Ash Ketchum © vs. Annie Eclectic

- Annie's a double champ again! Gosh-darnit!

 

HANDICAP MATCH

Danny Williams & Sacred vs. El Luchadore Magnifico

- Magnifico beats the odds and beats both Sacred and Williams.