SWF Storm (Nov. 6/2002)

December 7, 2002

BOOM!

Sparks fly from every orifice of the arena as SWF Storm kicks off. The fans are electric as they scream and hold up their homemade signs in hopes of making it on national television. The cameras zoom in and out and swirl around the arena until they settle in on the announce table and our good friends, Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley.

(Stevens) – Welcome to the Bradley Center, here in Milwaukee, Wisconsin!! It’s SWF Storm, live from the cheesehead state!

(Riley) – Isn’t that Green Bay?

(Stevens) – Green Bay is not a state stupid. Anyway…oh me, oh my! What an extravaganza Ashes to Ashes was this past Sunday! And coming off this historic PPV, we’ve got an absolute huge show planned for tonight! And if you didn’t see the PPV last Sunday..WOO HOO…You missed out big time because we saw the return of not one, but TWO former SWF superstars!

(Riley) – Oooo! Oooo! Can I announce the first one?

(Stevens) – Sure…go ahead I guess.

(Riley) – I was so excited, I nearly crapped my pants last Sunday! My favorite…the man…the myth…the greatest specimen of a man to ever walk this earth made his way back to the SWF last Sunday! I’m talking about none other than the silent one himself… Nathaniel Kibagami!!

(Stevens) – You probably remember him as Silent, formerly from the now-defunct Clan. His big return was only the beginning of an amazing night of returns as we also saw a huge return in the Main Event. We waited a month to find out, and boy was it worth it! The man behind the “He Returns” segments was none other than…two-time SWF world champion…The HVille Thugg!!

(Riley) – Now that just made me mad…

(Stevens) – And what was even more surprising was the fact that he and the current world champion, El Luchadore Magnifico, appeared to have mutual respect for one another. The scene as the two shook hands was magical and spoke volumes about the character of both men!

(Riley) – Vomit…Vomit I say! All the great things Thugg had done in this business, he went a ruined it in one fell swoop by befriending that kooky mental patient, Magnifico.

(Stevens) – All I can say is that those two put one hell of a show…as we’ve come to expect from two world class athletes like Thugg and Magnifico. However, all of that was ruined by our great commissioner, Stubby McWeed. He said some confusing things, but I can only believe that all shall become clear as we progress through this night here on Storm. Let’s take a look at the card…

“Muwhahahaha!”

Darkness engulfs the arena as the fans leap to their feet in anticipation for the man they know is coming….

(Stevens) – Forget the card…looks like we’re going to clear things up right now because here comes the angry black man himself…

An electric guitar pounds the speakers as the chorus chimes in…

“They don’t know”

“Who we be”

(Riley) – Why in the hell is he out here now? He has already ruined his legacy with his little stunt last night…does he really want to be embarrassed again?

“They don’t know”

“Who we be”

“What they don’t know is…”

BOOM!!

A wall of fire erupts on the stage as “Who We Be” by DMX heads into its first verse. The wall of fire leaves a small opening on the stage where a extremely large man stands with his towel-covered head down.

(Stevens) – Embarrassed? I think not! Thugg put it all on the line out there on Sunday…only to be screwed by the very man who orchestrated his early retirement in the first place!

As the fans cheer with excitement, the wall of fire dissipates and the HVille Thugg emerges, proceeding slowly down the ramp. He tosses his towel into the crowd before pulling himself up to the apron and stepping over the top rope into the ring.

(Stevens) – I bet Thugg’s got something say about last night’s fiasco in the main event. But listen to these fans…they’re absolutely ecstatic about seeing Thugg back in the SWF.

(Riley) – Are you sure he’s even back in the SWF. Stubby gave the impression that he was not…so I’m a little confused.

(Stevens) – He must be. He’s here now, and he wouldn’t have been able to get the air time if he wasn’t on the roster.

(Riley) – But he’s not booked tonight…what’s that all about?

(Stevens) – He just returned last week…he may not be in ring shape yet and needs a week to rest after being screwed by Stubby.

Meanwhile, in the ring, HVT has obtained a microphone, and is waiting for the fans to quiet down just a tad. As many of the fans cease and desist, HVT brings the mic up to speak…

(HVT) – Yo…

However, before he can get another word in, the crowd erupts into cheers once again, forcing HVT to pause and wait once more.

“HVT”

…and so on goes the chant until it dissipates after a few minutes.

(Stevens) – I’m telling you…this crowd loves the angry black man! He can’t even get a word in edge-wise.

Inside the ring, HVT attempts to keep a straight face and stay in character, but it’s very difficult to hide his joy of finally being back in the ring.

(HVT) – Yo…It’s so good to be back, for real!

Cheers erupt again, but die out shortly thereafter…

(HVT) – Now, I could come out here and talk about how good it is to be back...or I could talk about the great match Magnifico and I put on last Sunday..or I could talk about how tight it is to be back in Milwaukee {cheap pop}…and I would do all that…if I were in a better mood.

(Riley) – Uh oh…Thugg is in a bad mood…everyone run.

(Stevens) – Shut up Bobby…your sarcasm is not needed here.

(HVT) – But I’m not yo…I’m not in a good mood…in fact, I’m fuckin’ pissed the hell off. Why? Yo…it’s all because of one man, for real…one bitch ass mutha fucka who constantly gets in my mutha fuckin’ bidness.

(Riley) – He’s talking about Stubby Mark!

(Stevens) – Everyone has already figured that out Bobby…damn you’re stupid.

(HVT) – Let me take y’all back for a minute yo…take you back to May…back to when one man orchestrated a scheme to take me out. Yeah…y’all remember that shit…I remember it like it was yesterday yo. I’m at the top of the world yo…greatest SWF champion of all time and shit…not that it mattered to me all that much…but yo…I was kickin ass and takin names up in this bitch. Couldn’t nobody see me yo…couldn’t nobody touch H—V—T.

(Stevens) – He’s right Bobby…he was unstoppable back then. Who knows how far he would have gone if not for Da Pound and Stubby…

(HVT) – But then…these mutha fuckas got scared…scared of me yo! They couldn’t handle me yo…they were all pissed and shit cause I was getting big and I was getting paid yo! Pullin in duckets like ain’t nobody every seen…phat crib…fly ride…bangin chicks left and right…the shit was off the hook. But yo…5 men…5 bitch asses decided that they needed to take me out yo. For what? Cause none of them could beat me in the ring yo…none of them. In fact, none of them could see me in any place by themselves…so one man took it upon himself to orchestrate a plot to take me out yo. They all sat around got all educational with the shit, and found out how they could take me out. Then these 5 pussies came in the ring, after I had been in a brutal battle with Edwin MacPhisto {another pop for the crowned prince}. They came in…and broke my fuckin neck yo! They broke it cause they were scared…I was too big…too powerful…and they were too pussy to come and take it from me. They had to bring 5 niggas after I was already down yo…what kind of pussy shit is that?

(Stevens) – Yo, Thugg’s getting emotional up there. He’s getting angrier by the minute…

(HVT) – Now, I could sit here and talk about the Perfect Pussy, Bo, since he’s the one that broke my neck…but, I’m not out here to talk about him since he ain’t here. Probably ran off cause he caught wind of my return yo. But I’m here to talk about the mastermind of the whole shit…the man behind it all…the brains of the operation…the man who put it all together...THE MAN WHO SCREWED ME OUT OF THE SWF TITLE LAST SUNDAY NIGHT! STUBBY P. MCWEED…GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!!

(Stevens) – Oh shoot…he’s calling out the commissioner! It’s about to get real hot in herre.

(Riley) – Are you going to take off all your clothes?

(Stevens) – No…shut up.

The fans cheer for Thugg calling out McWeed, but instantly begin to boo when they hear…

“Lighs out…Guerrilla radio!!”

“Turn that shit up!”

(Stevens) – And he’s answered the call! Here he comes…

(Riley) – Our glorious commissioner. He’ll fix this…he’ll make everything right just like he always does…

Boos drown out any other sound in the arena as Stubby steps onto the stage, microphone in hand. Stubby looks out at the fans, who curse him with all their might, before starting slowly down the ramp.

(Stubby) – First of all…how dare you call me out you crippled has-been! You’re nothing Thugg…you were nothing but a speck 6 months ago, and you’re nothing but a mere afterthought now. So why don’t you just pack your bags, and get the hell out of my arena right now since, like I told you Sunday, YOU DON’T HAVE A FUCKING CONTRACT HERE!

(HVT) – Yo…hold up cuz…

And with that, the fans explode as HVT tosses the microphone down to the mat with a thud, and begins to step over the ropes to the outside. However, as Thugg reaches the apron, he is stopped, if only for a second…

(Stubby) – Whoa, whoa, whoa…what, you think you’re gonna walk up here and beat the living crap out of me? Me? The commissioner of the SWF? The greatest wrestler that ever lived? First, let me tell you, if I weren’t so busy running a successful wrestling federation, I’d let you walk up here and I’d put your ass back in that fucking wheelchair…

HVT starts to come again, and is now even more enraged after hearing the idle threats of Stubby…but stops again…

(Stubby) – But…I don’t got time for your washed up, crippled, fat, gimme a forty and a fat bitch, I let Jay Dawg rape me, ass! So…I’ve brought some friends of mine that will see to it that you leave my arena NOW!

Stubby motions to the back, and just as expected, about 10 or 12 of Milwaukee’s finest step out onto the stage, all with their hands on their belts (that’s near their guns).

(Riley) – HAHAHAHAHA!!! Now, this is great TV! Thugg is going to get what he deserves for unlawfully inserting himself into the main event last Sunday, and for trespassing on private property.

Upon seeing the officers, HVT steps back into the ring and retrieves his microphone, meanwhile, Stubby reaches the bottom of the ramp with the policemen right at his heels.

(Stubby) – You see, DAMIEN, you do not have a contract with the SWF. Therefore, you do not have the right to be in my ring. You don’t have the right to be backstage…only active wrestlers and invited guests are allowed backstage…and I didn’t invite you!

(HVT) – Well, bitch…

(Stubby) – Shut up you overgrown monkey! I’m not done!

HVT fumes, but waits as Stubby ascends the stairs and steps into the ring, followed closely by the Milwaukee PD.

(Stubby) – And I don’t care who the fuck invited you! I don’t care if you know the sound guy…I don’t care if you’re cool with the tech crew…I don’t care if El Luchadore Magnifico told you to come…you are on my fucking property…in my fucking ring…in my fucking arena! And, as commissioner, I have the right to throw you the fuck out!

(HVT) – I’m sorry…what did you say? All I heard was, “I’m a pussy ass bitch that’s too scared to fight Thugg so I’m going to sick my fagot lawyers on him and then I’m going to go home and get BUTT fucked by Shinji Nobanaga.” Is that what you said? It sounded like you said that…I mean…don’t you get fucked by Shinji? I mean, he’s the one who overruled you for my match with Magnifico, isn’t he? So I just assumed that he would be the one that’s fucked you in the ass to make you a scared pussy bitch!

The crowd cheers Thugg’s verbal bashing of the commish…

(Stubby) – You see Thugg…it’s comments like that, that ensure that you will never work here again. You see, I know you want a contract…I know you want to be here…but you know what…You ain’t getting it! I don’t want you…I don’t need you…and I certainly don’t like you. So, see if you can get this through your thick skull brainiac…you have no contract…and I’m not going to give you one. And you’re lucky that I don’t just break your fucking neck right now…

As Stubby says this, he pokes Thugg right in the shoulder with his index finger…which is never a smart idea. Instead of going back to a verbal battle with Stubby, HVT throws his mic down again and lunges for Stubby in a heated rage…only to be snagged in mid-lunge by the officers in the ring!

(Stevens) – Oh come on…I can’t believe Stubby is hiding behind these cops.

(Riley) – No…you see…Thugg is trespassing. AND…he was going to attack our commissioner….serves him right. I hope they lock him up and throw away the key!

All but 2 cops hold THugg back as he tries to fight their grip. After realizing struggling is useless, Thugg calms to a slight lean in Stubby’s direction as the fans really let the commissioner have it.

(Stubby) – Now look at you…when will you learn…huh? When will you learn that I always win…and that you get nothing without me. NOTHING! Don’t you understand that all you ever were was my little bitch! My monkey…just a pawn who was there to do my bidding. You think you actually had talent. You had nothing…nothing except what I gave you. And when you decided you wanted to act up and go your own way…I took it all from you! Can’t you see…I run the show…and just as soon as I give you something…I can take it away!

HVT struggles a little bit more, but to no avail.

(Stubby) – So…Thugg…you had your little fun last Sunday, but it’s time to come on back to reality. You’re nothing, you’ll never be nothing, and you never were nothing. And now…you’re going to leave my arena for the very last time…forever. No contract for you…no more SWF…nothing. And if I ever see you in my arena again…I’ll press charges and have you locked up. You got me?

The fans boo like crazy as an enraged Thugg lunches and swipes and does anything possible to get at Stubby, but the officer’s grips are too tight. Stubby walks up so close to Thugg that he’s directly in his face…and he whispers…

(Stubby) – Now get out of my arena…bitch!

As he speaks his last words, Stubby gives Thugg a little face slap, and turns away, cueing the officers to drag Thugg from the ring.

(Stevens) – This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen! What is Stubby’s problem?

(Riley) – Hey…he’s just keeping the fed safe and Thugg-free. He’s the commissioner, and if doesn’t want Thugg in the fed…then guess what? The HVille Thugg will not be in this federation! It’s as simple as that…

Meanwhile, the officers are dragging Thugg, who is screaming “I’ll be back, I’ll Be back,” as he is dragged away. As they pull Thugg behind the curtain, Stubby prepares to deliver his final words…

(Stubby) – Let this be a lesson to all of you in the back…and all of you in the stands…don’t fuck with me. When you fuck with me, you get embarrassed, just like the HVille Thugg. Learn from it…study it…and don’t make the same mistakes he did. Oh…and before I go…don’t think I’ve forgotten about you Magnifico…I’m going to deal with you when I get to the bac…

“UNO!”

BOOM!

“DOS!”

BOOM!

“TRES!”

BOOM!

“CUATRO!”

BOOM”

(Stevens) – OH HELL YEAH!! Here comes the SWF Champion himself…El Luchadore Magnifico!

(Riley) – Oh lord…where’s my Spanish-English dictionary?

The entire arena erupts once again as “Mission Trip To Mexico” blares through the speakers and Magnifico steps through the curtain, complete with title belt and microphone…

(ELM) – STUBBY!!

Insane cheers lift the roof off the Bradley Center…

(ELM) – STUBBY!! ESE!! You got something to say to me chico?? Huh? Well, you ain’t gotta wait…I’m right here puta!

(Stubby) – Oh, I see…

(ELM) – NO! Fuck what you have to say…It’s my turn to talk!!

Ooooooo!

(Riley) – HEY! He can’t talk to Stubby like that…he’s the commissioner of the SWF dammit!

(Stevens) – Well, apparently…he can…hahaha

(Stubby) – Who the hell do you think you’re talking…

(ELM) – See? That’s your problem senor…you don’t listen! I said it’s my turn to talk holmes…and it’s time for you to listen…I’m sick of your shit Stubby! What gives you the right to come down to the ring and ruin my match ese? Huh? I give a damn who you are…commissioner…owner…public penis licker…

(Stubby) – First…

(ELM) – SHUT…THE…FUCK…UP! After all I’ve been through in this federation…after everything Thugg and I went through last year senor. I wanted to beat him…I wanted to pin him 1…2…3! Nothing would have brought me more joy than to defeat Thugg…and I thought I had…Oh…it was about to be a great night. Thugg…laying on the mat…I fly through the air…WHAM! 1…2…3! For the first time in my career…I have defeated the Hville Thugg! Oh…it was sweet ese…fucking sweet! I was ready for some Coronas…mas chicas bonitas…oh what a night I had planned…BUT! But then I stand up and what do I see? I see YOU ESE! Grinning…happy…you screwed Thugg again…HAHAHAHAHA…The great Stubby McWeed has once again screwed the Hville Thugg!

(Riley) – Yes, and you should be happy you ungrateful son of a…

(Stevens) – BOBBY!

(ELM) – But you didn’t just screw Thugg Stubby…YOU SCREWED ME! My crowning moment…my biggest accomplishment…down the drain because of you! Because you had to prove some stupid point that no one cares about. Well now…it’s personal Stubby. I’m through jumping through hoops for you…I’m through playing your games chico…finito! No more!

(Stubby) – You done?

(ELM) – No…

(Stubby) – Yes…yes you are. See Mags…I can call you Mags, right?

(ELM) – No…

(Stubby) – Good…you see Mags…the problem with this whole situation is this…you’re wearing my belt around you waist. And as long as you wear that title…you will play by my rules. I will do whatever I want, and you will stand there and like it. And if you don’t…if things are so horrible…then you can always quit and vacate the belt. I’ve got a locker room full of guys that would love a crack at that.

Boooo!!

(Stubby) – You see Magnifico…you fail to realize that this is my show…my federation…mine! Yeah, sure…you went over my head and got your little match…great…wonderful…but who got the last laugh, huh? Are you going to be able to go to Shinji every time you want a match? Boy…I’m sure he has plenty of time for that…

(Riley) – Oops…he’s got him there.

(Stubby) – It’s very simple Magnifico…I AM the SWF…and I answer to no one…especially not you! You will fight who I tell you to fight…you will go where I tell you to go…and you will do what I tell you to do!

(ELM) – And what if I say no…?

(Stubby) – Well, there’s always life as a cripple…just ask Thugg how it was in that wheelchair.

(ELM) – Is that a threat?

(Stubby) – Hmmmm…lemme check…yep…sure was. And now that we’re on the same page…lemme lay down this decree to you and everyone in the back…Stay Away from the Hville Thugg! Anyone caught harboring that fat oaf will be suspended indefinitely…plain and simple. No questions asked…no comments…if you’re caught…your’e gone. See Mags…I know Thugg will try to come back…he’s never been one to just go away like a good puppy…so I’ve gotta make sure it’s not easy for him to come back. And when you’re the commissioner…you have to be smart and know how to get things done. See…I can’t be everywhere…true…so, I’ll just have to add a little incentive for people to stop Thugg from entering this building.

(ELM) – Oh…what’s that ese?

(Stubby) – Glad you asked Magnifico…it’s very simple. While anyone harboring Thugg will be suspended…I’m adding that anyone who catches Thugg in the building and brings him to me…gets and automatic WORLD TITLE SHOT AGAINST YOU MAGNIFICO!!

(Stevens) – What?

(Riley) – OH! That’s cool!

ELM’s face has nothing but shock!

(Stubby) – And that goes for next week, and the week after that…and the week after that. Anyone that sees Thugg at an event and brings him to me…dead or alive…will be rewarded with a guaranteed world title shot!

(Stevens) – That’s ridiculous! He’s putting a bounty out on Thugg’s head!! He can’t be serious…

(Stubby) – And yes Mark…I AM serious!

(Riley) – HAHAHAHA!! He told you!

(ELM) – Well…then I’ll just have to see to it that no one catches Thugg…especially not you chico.

(Stubby) – HAHAHAHA…you silly Mexicans…think you can save the world. See Magnifico…now there are 25 wrestlers in the locker room that would be more than happy to beat you within an inch of your life just to bring Thugg in so they can get a shot. That’s 25 men looking for Thugg, and only one to protect him…hmmm…like those odds? And don’t think for one second I won’t strip you and suspend you if I catch you helping Thugg…I’m sorry Magnifico…but you’re little love fest is over…and your BUTT buddy Thugg will never be back here in the SWF…period! 25 men will see to that…and not even the great Thugg can overcome those odds!

ELM just stands on the stage…stunned…as “Guerrilla Radio” hits the speakers and Stubby leaves the ring. ELM just watches the commish walk up the ramp, right past him, and into the back…triumphant.

(Stevens) – What the fuck just happened here? It all just seemed to come out of no where.

(Riley) – It’s simple Mark…lemme explain it to you. If ELM helps Thugg into the arena…ever…he’ll be stripped of his title and suspended. AND…if Thugg tries to get back in, everyone in the locker room will be coming after him so they can get a shot at the title. Make sense?

(Stevens) – Of course it makes sense you jackass…that don’t make it right!

(Riley) – Hey…you’re always right when you’re the commissioner!

(Stevens) – My oh my…what a turn of events there…Thugg dragged off…threats…champions…commissioners…bounties…holy cow. Well, we’re gonna try to get some semblance of order around here so we can get set for a night of great action here on Storm. Let’s check out the card…

December 7, 2002

NO-DQ SINGLES MATCH

Alex Zenon vs. Tod deKindes

- These were part of the 3-way ICTV #1 contenders match at Ashes to Ashes. It was Zenon who won that match, but deKindes came close to tasting victory and will try to get a big win this Friday.

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

NON-TITLE SINGLES MATCH

Annie Eclectic vs. Sigil

- While it was Ash Ketchum who won the hardcore #1 contendership last Sunday, Sigil beat him severely after the match, so Ash won’t be competing tonight. That’s okay though, since there’s no love lost between Annie and Sigil either. This should be a hard fought battle, even if it is non-title.

SINGLES MATCH

Bayawolf vs. Stryke

- Who's this nutty Bayawolf guy? Well, he'll be facing the returning Stryke on Storm!

SINGLES MATCH

Judge Mental vs. Nathaniel Kibagami

- The newly bumped member of the Magnificent 7 will take on the recently returned Silent! This should be a cerebral battle (let’s hope that doesn’t mean it will end up resembling a HHH match).

NON-TITLE SINGLES MATCH

Orochi vs. Mak Francis

- Orochi (then still known as Thoth) turned his back on the stable he started, and at Ashes to Ashes, attacked and injured Francis’ ally, Ced Ordonez. Francis will look for some good old fashioned revenge on Storm.

TORNADO TAG TEAM TITLE MATCH

Frost & Tom Flesher © vs. CIA & El Luchadore Magnifico

- The tag team champions defend their titles for the first time against the Midnight Carnival duo of CIA and El Luchadore Magnifico! Frost, CIA and Magnifico have had their issues as of late, and everyone hates Flesher…so this should be an emotional and viole…er, I mean physically intense battle!

Match Description – DQ and count-out rules are in effect. All 4 men are allowed in the ring at once…no tags are required. The first team to score a submission or pin over one of the members of the opposing team, is the winner.

December 7, 2002

"Welcome back to SWF Storm!" hollers Mark Stevens, seated next to Bobby Riley at the commentary table. "We're about to get started with our first match, a no-disqualification contest between Alex Zenon and Tod deKindes!"

"That's right, Stevens," agrees Riley, "but first, we're going to show you some more footage of last week's pay per view extravaganza, SWF Ashes to Ashes, as the Hville Thugg made a big return at the end of the night! Roll that footage!"

The two announcers wait for a moment for the pay per view footage to begin rolling on the Smarktron. For several seconds nothing happens.

"Um," Riley sputters, "I said, roll the footage!"

More time passes, and still nothing happens.

"What the hell--?" wonders Stevens aloud.

Suddenly a bell begins tolling over the arena speakers, and faint orchestral music can be heard. The audience begins jeering already as they know what comes next.

"Aw, no," Stevens mutters, "not him."

After the third tolling of the bell, an explosion of pyrotechnics rips across the front of the stage, and "Halo" by Soil hits the speakers. The masked monster known as Sigil walks out of the ashes of the pyro display, carrying a microphone, and wastes little time walking down the ramp.

I'm the man, I'm the king, and I’m the one

That's pure inside

Everyday, everyway I smell of suicide

Bitter sins how they grow within

So you tell me it ain't right

I AM...ALL SINS

And you're my reason for life

I will stone you, stone you

Wrap my arms around you

I will stone you, stone you

My little HALO

the man, I’m the king, I’m the one

That's broken from giving

Everday, everyway I swear just one last try

Killing me with the death to be

Something that's so right

I AM...ALL SINS

My hands are scarred with time

Feel through my eyes

I'm the man with the rock in his hand, got

the rock in my hand gonna stone you stone you

Make a change, gotta rearrange

Idle minds, crushing time

I AM...ALL SINS

And you're the reason for life

Sigil enters the ring and begins speaking over the microphone, through his metal faceplate, as his music fades out. "A lot of people have their questions about me. But I'm sure the one you're all asking right now is... why? Why, Sigil? Why did you do what you did to Mercury? Why did you TEAR MERCURY'S EAR OFF at Ashes to Ashes?"

"I was wondering that myself," Stevens can't help saying.

"Shhh!" Riley hushes his broadcast partner. "Sigil's trying to talk!"

"I'll answer that question," Sigil continues. "I told Tom Flesher I would need a sacrifice... Mercury was that sacrifice. I made an example of Mercury to show the world just what Sigil is capable of. The Revolution is coming, and if you aren't willing to embrace it, then you will share Mercury's fate. After all, if you aren't willing to listen to me and accept truth from the Voice... then you don't need your ears."

"What a sick, sadistic individual!" Stevens exclaims. "This monster has absolutely no regard for human life, no compassion for the harm he inflicts on anyone else!"

*CLANG*

And another being with little to no compassion appears on the scene in the form of a chair shot, broadsiding the large man and causing him to stagger to the side.

“It’s Judge Mental! He’s here to inflict some justice for the despicable and evil… err… aw hell, he’s here to get revenge!”

“You thought you could just get away with it, didn’t you?” Yells Judge Mental, “No one EVER double-crosses the Magnificent 7.

The Judge winds up for another shoot, and swings it right around at the still regrouping Sigil, and nails him right in the forehead. The man stumbles back a little…. Then stands straight up, a hateful scowl coming over his face.

“He just brushed off a second chair shot like it didn’t even happen! I can’t believe it!” says an astounded Stevens, and Mental winds up for another shot….

But never gets it, as Sigil instantly responds with a trademark “Hardway” Punch right to the nose of the smaller man, pushing Mental back clutching his now-bleeding nose. He knocks into the ropes, and as The Judge looks up he sees the charging monster coming at him, arm outstretched. He ducks, backdropping big man over the ropes to the outside. Sigil lands on his back and slowly begins to rise as Mental slides out of the ring, quickly trying to lock in a Half Crab, but Sigil forces his leg down and brings the Judge down with it. Sigil goes over and begins to punch him right as the arena security arrives. It takes a few moments, but they pry the two men away from each other.

“Well, it looks like Judge Mental and the Magnificent 7 didn’t bode well with Mercury losing an ear, and it looks like they are gonna make Sigil pay for it.”

“Hopefully, Grand Slam. Flesher is a man of great virtue-”

“Selfishness and egotism counts as virtue now?”

“Hey, don’t lip off to me, or I’ll-”

“What? Get Tom Flesher to beat me up?”

“Hey, that’s a great idea!” Riley exclaims, pulling out a cell phone from his suit pocket. He hits speed dial, and notes “Damnit, he already blocked this one…” and pulls out another as Mark just sighs and shakes his head.

December 7, 2002

As we are STILL in jolly Milly Waukee's Bradley Center as far as this writer is concerned, the crowd looks to be hot in anticipation for tonight's opening contest. Our Jawesome Duo at ringside start off the festivities.

Stevens: We're gonna start you off tonight with a portion of action from last Sunday night's pay per view, as Tod deKindes, and -- …

Riley: THE Sole Survivor of XF9, and don’t you forget it, Slamball.

Stevens: Uh huh. And the NEW Number One Contender for Orochi's newly won ICTV title; Alex Zenon. After Nathaniel Kibagami was eliminated from the triple threat contest, both Tod and Alex had quite an interesting and amazing encounter, which led up to Zenon winning that match. But now tonight, they go at it one on one, in a NO Disqualification contest.

Riley: Right, this is TOD's element, he knows how to take advantage of these kind of rules. Need I remind you about that Best Of Five Series from not too long ago. That man almost KILLED Annie Eclectic!

Stevens: But she came away with the U.S. title, didn't she?

Riley(Sputters): Tha… that's not the point! Tonight, it's all about MY BOY Tod deKindes getting what is HIS!!

Stevens: What's that, Bobby?

Riley: Alex Zenon's ass on a silver platter!!

Stevens: Uh-huh… Well nonetheless, let's get you to the ring, where our opening contest awaits!

…

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to SWF STORM, as this is our Opening Contest Of The Evening!! … The following is a NO Disqualification Match, and it is set for ONE fall!

As the lights make way for a blinding array of strobe lights and clouds of smoke upon the entrance way, the crowd starts going into boos as Static X's chilling "Cold" invades the arena speakers.

Funyon: Introducing first; from Toronto, Ontario, Canada and weighing in at 225 lbs: He is the Self Proclaimed Last and SOLE Surviving Member Of X Force Nine, And Don't You Ever Forget That, Or He WILL Insert His Boot Inside Your Ass … Tod - deeeeeeeeeee - Kin - deeeeeeeeeeeesss!!

Tod slowly but surely steps out from beneath, as always clad in his usual ring gear and flowing black trench coat. The fans direct their hatred towards the not-so-german one, but they mean nothing to him, as he lets everyone and their brother know that, well, they mean nothing to him, that his cat Heinzenschwartz is cuter than this guy (an average fellow at ringside to whom he's pointing), that he's saving up his Air Miles to go to Cancun, that his favorite movie is "Seren- DIPITTY, if you know what I mean", and that his lawn mower is a Yard King, not that junk that TRIES to pass off as gardening equipment that's named Toro.

Stevens: As usual, Tod doesn't appear to be endearing himself to the Milwaukee crowd here tonight.

Riley: Why would he? He doesn't NEED them to know that he's great!!

Stevens: Yet you remind us on a nightly basis…

Tod wastes no more time with the fans, as he sprints under the bottom rope, quickly over to a corner where he stands on the second rope; proudly thumbing his chest and throwing his fists up in the air. Just as he steps down from his perch of hate, his theme song quietly fades away, as a batch of electric drums echo throughout the arena…

Funyon: And his opponent; from The Meadowlands, weighing in at 229 lbs. He is the Number One Contender for the SWF ICTV title: Alex - Zeeeeeeeeee - nooooooooooon!!

Just as The Tea Party's "Temptation" is blasting throughout the arena, the lights in the venue turn to a rainbow effect, blinding just about everyone in the crowd.

Riley: Right now, a kid watching Alex Zenon's entrance in Japan is currently having an epilepsy attack …

The former Z steps out from the curtains with his head hung low, but quickly flips his hair back up and begins a step down the ramp, all while flashing his trademark smirk. The song lyrics blast, mixing in with the cheers for Zenon, as he climbs up the stairs and onto the apron, doing his best to avoid eye contact with Tod. Entering the ring, he relieves himself from his jacket, as he sees Tod staring daggers into him not three feet away, with a microphone in hand.

Stevens: Well, looks like we're gonna get a few words of wisdom from Tod deKindes, Bobby.

Riley: Tod could talk a lesbian right back on the team!

Waiting for the music to be cut, Tod lifts up the mic to his lips. And even though there's thousands of people around them, he's speaking to one man only.

Tod: Last Sunday night … … was a complete, utter, goddamn FLUKE!!! After I got RID of the so-called returning superstar bad-ass Nathan Kiba--ker…klug--…whatever! I beat you WITHIN AN INCH OF YOUR WORTHLESS MISERABLE LIFE!!! I had that match WON!! …But that didn't turn out that way, did it? Y'know something, ZEE …you don't DESERVE to be number one contender!! I DO!!!! …You remember Fallout, Z?

Stevens: Great competitor.

Tod: Yeah, Fallout. This guy was almost a legend in this company. Who was it in his SECOND match here that DEFEATED him and ran him OUT of this place? That's right, it was ME!! Who was it that made the great Annie Warrior Princess AFRAID FOR HER LIFE for the first time ever? ME!! Oh, and you got the current U.S. champion, Danny Williams, right? Lessee, who has beaten him again and again …That's right, ME!!!

Stevens: C'mon, is there a point to this?

Tod: Underrated doesn't even BEGIN to describe me!! It's more like UNDERAPPRECIATED!! I have been BUSTING MY ASS ever since I've been here, even if (pointing out to the crowd) YOU people never grew to like it, but you , Z …you just pop out of nowhere and receive title shots. See, I plan to do something about this, and this No DQ match that we're about to have …is only the first step.

With a loud "PFFFHSHSZZTT!" following the blow, Tod catches Zenon off guard as he NAILS him in the head with the microphone!

Stevens: Hey, COME ON!!

As the bell officially starts us off, Tod almost immediately catches the downed Zenon and starts hammerring away at him with a series of rapid fire right hands to the side of the head! Alex scuttles into the ropes, where Tod grasps his arm, hurling him toward the opposite bands—but it’s reversed! The crowd gives a slight pop as Tod’s momentum is shifted, sending him reverberating off the red cables. Alex drops down, propping his feet up for a monkey flip, but Tod easily scouts it, hopping over Zenon. A little surprised, Aelx jumps to his feet… and is greeted by the returning Tod as he hops over Alex’s side, slides around his back, cinches in a headlock and drives Zenon down with a floatover DDT! Hurriedly, he rolls over Alex, motioning for referee Eddy Long to count the pin!

ONE!

T—No!

Stevens: Heh. Not even a two count for your “boy” there, Bobby.

Riley: Hmph. Tis’ but the first cover of the match, Grissmiss. Unlike you, I’ll WAIT until Tod’s REALLY beating down on Zenon to rub it in!

Riley cackles a bit; as in the ring, Tod curses, a bit disappointed that his first cover didn’t get the job done. As Alex rises, Tod peppers his form with heavy stomps, relenting just long enough to snap up a front facelock, and throw Alex’s arm over his shoulder in a suplex attempt… that’s blocked! Tod grumbles, as he tries a second time—but is roughly shoved away by Zenon as he blocks the move with his leg again! Tod stumbles back, as Alex DRILLS him in the breadbox with a kick! The crowd cheers, but Alex is just getting started, as he carousels around, smacking Tod upright with a spinning back kick! Alex continues twirling, feeding the not-so-german-one a spinning crescent kick, then finally dropping down in the spin and knocking the dazed Tod down with a spinning sweep! The crowd lauds Alex for his efforts, as Tod groggily clambers for the ropes.

Stevens: And a nice little pirouette of a sequence sends Tod scrambling!

Riley: Kick, kick, kick. I know you praise Alex for learning new ‘moves’ while he was away, Marky Mark, but all I ever see him doing is kick! That’s HARDLY what I’d call real wrestling.

Stevens: Riley, that’s not true and you know it! Alex has also—

Riley(Cutting him off): You know what, Mark? I’d go as far to say Alex is AFRAID of facing off with MY BOY, Tod, in a real wrestling match. He’d absolutely school him!

Back in the ring, Tod makes it to the corner, pulling himself up into it. Alex takes notice of this, and lines up Tod… starting into a sprint to the turnbuckles! But out of the corner of his eye, Tod sees Alex barreling down on him, and quickly darts out of the way, letting Zenon’s attempted shoulder block crash into the padding! The crowd sings a chorus of boos for the adept imposter, who is actually rather proud himself. With a mile-wide grin, Tod prowls to the centre of the ring, repeats Alex’s movements, charging to the corner—and SCORING with a huge spear! The crowd’s jeering intensifies, but is wasted on Tod, who is far from finished! Stepping back, he waits the groaning Zenon to stumble out of the corner, and doubles him over with another shot to the gut! Quickly placing him in a standing headscissors, Tod underhooks Alex’s arms, lets out a quick and cocky “Whoooo!”, and rips him over in a butterfly suplex, briding for a pin! Eddy Long counts!

ONE!

TWO!

T-NOT A CHANCE!

Stevens: And a kickout by Zenon!

Riley: See, what’d I tell you? You get into the actual wrestling, and Zenon gets 0wned~! It’s that same acumen that sent Fallout running for the hills!

Stevens: Sigh. Fallout didn’t leave until a month later, Bobby!

Riley: Details, details…

The crowd lets loose with a large pop for Zenon’s escape, as Tod curses his luck again. Unrelenting, the self-proclaimed last surviving member of XF9 DRIVES his foot straight into Alex’s gut… and then does it again, just for symmetry, before taking his long, auburn hair and pulling him up to his feet. Grasping his wrist again, Tod flings Zenon toward the ropes, trying to telegraph a move—but has to quickly duck down and out of the way, as Alex soars overhead with a Shining Wizard Knee-Strike! The crowd cheers a little at the offence, but become silent upon seeing Alex miss, and segue into boos at the site of Tod grabbing the rebounding Zenon, and slamming him down with a ring rockin’ side slam! Tod slowly rises off the mat, making a “Who’s the man?” gesture, which only succeeds in drawing more boos. With an indignant “hmph” directed at the crowd, Tod points up, toward the top rope!

Stevens: And I’d say that’s Todski is about to take flight!

Riley: BRILLIANT deduction, Edison. You want to point out anything else, Captain Obvious? Next you’ll be telling me Hawaii is the 51st state!!

Stevens: …I’m not even going to reply to that.

Riley (Smarmy): You know I’m right, Grand Ham.

Slowly, soaking up every bit of the hatred from the crowd, Tod makes his way to the apron, and then up to the top turnbuckle. Finally reaching the zenith, so to speak, he raises his arms out and beckons for another response from the crowd… and looks surprised as they start to cheer! Tod looks around the crowd, puzzled… and turns to the ring just in time to see a popped-up Zenon charge at the corner, step on the second rope, latch on to Tod’s arm and throw him off the top in a…

Stevens: Top rope arm drag takedown!

Tod clatters to the mat in a heap, rolling across the centre of the ring… and continuing to roll, under the bottom rope at the other side of the ‘squared circle’ and to the outside. The not-so-German-one shakes out his head, getting a breather from the sudden slam… and doesn’t even notice the buzz coming from the crowd, which escalates into a huge pop! At the sudden rise in decibels, Tod looks around, and then finally up, as a shadow closes in on him… and sees Zed LEAPING OFF THE ROPES WITH A SPACEMAN PLANCHA! He collides with Tod, who can do little to avoid, as the crowd roars!!

Stevens: OH, whattamaneuver~!

Riley: …AUGH.

Stevens: Alex just absolutely WIPED OUT Tod with that Spaceman Plancha! I guess this means he HAS learned more than how to kick, eh Bobby?

Riley(seething): It’s still… not… WRESTLING, Stevens…

On the outside, the two men lay not far apart from each other on the ground, puffing for air. The crowd waits expectantly for referee Eddy Long to begin his count, but… he merely looks over the ropes, somewhat concerned, and then shrugs.

Riley: …eh? Dammit, Mark, why isn’t Long counting!?

Stevens: Because he’d probably count BOTH of them out?

Riley: Nonsense! You know just as well as I do that MY BOY, Tod, would recover faster than that flake Zenon, and beat the count!

Stevens: Uh-huh… hey, Riley? I guess now would be as good a time as any to remind you this is a NO-DQ match. So there’s no countout as well.

Riley(Stunned): Uh… well… I knew that, you know. I was just testing!

On the outside, there is life. Alex slowly begins to roll over, as does Tod. Alex props himself up to his knees, and reaches out toward the steel guard rail. Tod follows in much the same motion, except toward the ring apron. Slowly…

Slowly…

Slowly… the two finally make it to their feet, and Tod leans out, connecting with a right hand on Zenon! Dazedly, Alex returns the punch with a weak chop… but gets blasted again by Tod! He retaliates again with a chop, but Tod blitzes him with another right hand! Seeing that Alex stunned enough to not fire back, Tod launches a consecutive punch! And a third! Finally, he grasps Alex by his hair, and throws his head at the railing—but it’s blocked! The fans in the front row, getting the best view of the action, cheer a little, as Alex drops his hands off the railing and elbows Tod in the gut! With a grimace, Alex grabs Tod’s head, and slams HIM into the railing instead! The crowd cheers, and Tod reels comically, stumbling around, but getting straightened out by Zenon, having his wrist taken, and getting hurled down ringside, colliding noisly with--!

CLANG!!

…the steel steps. The-not-so-german-one topples over the steps, clattering to the feet of Funyon and the timekeeper, near to their table. Zenon takes a second to flip his hair back and then slowly advances upon Tod, whom can be seen clutching onto something with his finger tips. Zenon grabs onto the back of Tod's hair, hoping to inflict some more punishement, but Tod suddenly swings his arms upwards …as the "PING!" of the ring bell connects with Zenon's forehead! The Meadowlander staggers backwards and crumples to his knees, while Tod looks at his implement of destruction and chucks it back onto the timekeeper's table.

Riley: Now THAT is how you gain an advantage in a No DQ match!!

Stevens: Right. He rang his bell …(sighs)

Seeing that Zenon is quickly attempting to get back up to his feet, Tod places himself in the "I'm Gonna Superkick The Taste Out Of This Poor Sucka's Mouth" stance. Lo and behold, just as Zenon staggers back towards facing Tod, the fake german one mightily extends his right leg as he rocks Zenon's jaw with the massive SMACK of a standing sidekick! Seeing as the momentum is clearly back on his side for the time being, Tod peers over to the other side of the barricade, with an idea forming in his head. He yanks up the downed Zenon to his feet by his auburn hair, and makes big waving motions with his arm, yelling at the crowd.

Tod: Move!!

The crowd, caught off guard, quickly starts scurrying away and moving their chairs as the arena security help to creating a space with nothing but concrete arena floor.

Stevens: Come on, he's gonna toss him into the crowd and onto that bare floor!

Riley: Do it! Do it! Do it!!

Just as everyone is out of the way, Tod grabs a firm hold of the seat of Zenon's pants and a good handful of hair as well.

Riley: Incoming!!

Tod takes a step forward, ready to throw Zenon over …but makes a quick 180 and tosses him back inside the ring!

Tod: AAAH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!

Stevens: …Great.

Riley: AAAH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!

As the grumbling crowd members shake their fists in rage towards the laughing Tod, they don't see Zenon shaking the cob webs loose and slithering right back outside behind Tod!

Stevens: Hey now, wait a second!

Riley: NOO!! Tod, behind you!! Turn around!!

Zenon mouths a silent "Aw hell, no!", grabs TOD by the tights and hair and sends him VAULTING right over the guard rail and onto the concrete!

Riley: NO!! Not in the crowd!! Don't touch him, you filthy buncha humanoids!! HE'S TOO GOOD FOR YOU!!

Waiting for just the right moment Zenon watches on as Tod gingerly tries to stagger back up to his feet, while the security folks hold off a number of rowdy fans. Zenon hops up to the top of the barrier, and leaps off with a BIG flying clothesline on Tod! As both men crumple onto the concrete, Zenon recovers as he plasters Tod's head repeadetly with a rapid fire series of right hands to the side of the head. He tries to yank Tod back up to his feet, but Tod retakes briefly the advantage with a well placed thumb to the eye. He grabs Zenon in the front face lock position and lifts his arm up, with the thought of a basic suplex dancing in his mind.

Stevens: Watch out, he's gonna suplex him on the concrete! There's no padding out there!

Riley: I see a guy passed out a couple feet back! That's just as good!

And just as before, Zenon blocks any suplexing attempt by locking legs with Tod and firing off a couple of right hands into the ribs of the Todacious one, hard enough to cause Tod to break his grip and stagger back towards the guard rail, which he leans against in order to catch his breath. Just then, Zenon charges out full speed towards Tod with murderous intentions …but Tod is fast enough as he backdrops Zenon CLEAR over the barricade and back in the ringside area! Still in breath catching mode, Tod slithers over the guard rail and lands a stiff kick to the head of Zenon. While Eddy Long warns the brawling bosom non-buddies to preferrably take it back inside, Tod strains as he lifts Zenon up to his feet by yanking on his hair. He rolls him back inside the ring, where he follows suit by crawling back in after him. With a confident "That’s IT!!", Tod lays down on top of the fallen Zenon and hooks a leg for good measure.

ONE!

.

TWO!

.

THRE--!

Stevens: Alex Zenon is still in this thing with a kickout!!

Riley: DAMMIT!!

Tod could dispute that count, but he wastes no time in picking Zenon back up and putting him back down on the mat with a brutal bodyslam. With almost renewed speed, Tod heads over towards a corner where he shimmies up with a quick climb. Steadying himself up at first, Tod leaps off in a strange position, but then SNAPS back into the picture perfect position of a flying elbowdrop, brutally crashing down on top of Zenon's chest! Tod lays on the lateral press with the forearm grind.

Stevens: That's GOTTA be it!!

ONE!

.

TWO!

.

THRE--!

Another kick out by Zenon!! As his frustrated pounds on the mat show, Tod's not quite happy about this turn of events. Just as Zenon tries to get back up, Tod orders him back down, courtesy of a fistdrop right on the forehead. Looking around for a quick option, he decides to go back to the ropes.

Riley: Looks like my boy is going up top once again!

Back atop his perch of offense, Tod once again leaps off and snaps into an elbow delivery …but there's nobody home!

Stevens: He moved!!

Riley: Dear God NO!!

Stevens: And now look for Alex Zenon to take control of this one!!

As the crowd starts to fire up, Zenon makes a frantic Bad Guy-esque wave of his arms, bellowing out his own "That's it!!". He quickly appropriates Tod's head and thrusts it into a standing headscissor.

Stevens: And now it looks like Zenon is going to finish him off with the Genocide Level Event!!

Riley: No, not the G.L.E.!! The G.L.E., dammit!!

With almost relative ease, Zenon lifts up Tod onto his shoulder and into a backbreaker position. Just as he goes to ease him into the Gory Special portion of the devastating finisher, Tod wiggles his legs free …and drops back onto the mat! He turns around in a flash …and clamps on the Silent Scream!

Stevens: Wait, he countered it!!

Riley: YES!! THE SILENT SCREAM!! It is OVER for Alex Zenon!!

Failing to go down but rapidly fading away, Zenon tries to extend his one free arm as he tries to reach the ropes.

Stevens: The move isn't fully locked in yet, but that's still a fairly lethal choke that Tod's got Zenon in right now! Can Zenon reach the ropes and break the hold?

Riley: No way, this is over, Stevens!!

As the crowd rallies behind Zenon …he manages to take one step forward! And another! With the crowd volume rising with each step towards freedom, Zenon extends his hand out beyond all human capabilities … …and grabs the rope!! Tod lets out an audibly loud groan of despair as he's being forced to let go of the Silent Scream. Zenon tries to get a second of rest in the corner while Eddy Long checks over on him. Tod casually shoves him away and starts stomping a mudhole into Zenon. Instead of walking that sumbitch dry, he grasps Zenon's wrist in hopes of an Irish whip to the opposite corner …but it's reversed! Tod seems to be taking the trip instead …but he reverses back! In the confusion, Eddy Long steps into the path of a charging Zenon. Everybody gasps in fear, …but Zenon quickly puts the brakes on!

Stevens: Close call, there!

Zenon takes a second to reassure himself of Long's condition, but he doesn't see Tod sneaking up behind him. With the silent prowess of the Cat Burglar, Tod locks on the Silent Scream one more time!!

Stevens: And there's the Silent Scream again!!

Riley: Woo Hoo!!

Not making the same mistake twice, Tod falls onto his side and completes the move with the added body scissors. Eddy Long quickly comes into position and asks a submission out of Zenon, who's reluctant groans tell the story.

Riley: The move is fully locked in this time, Stevens! There is NO escape for Alex Zenon!!

Stevens: But you got to believe that he wants to hang on for dear life! Alex Zenon is a fighter!

Zenon's scream of agony are terrorizing to many, as the life is quickly being choked out of his body …But knowing when to quit, Zenon manages one last coherent thought in his brain …as he TAPS OUT!!

Long: Ring the bell!!

As the crowd boos in unison, we are treated to a ringbell and Static X's "Cold" blaring out in victory.

Funyon: The winner of this bout by submission: Tod - deeeeeeeee - Kinnnnnnnn - deeeeeeeess!

Despite the bell ringing, Tod pretends that he's heard no such thing, as he maintains the hold on for a few extra seconds…

Stevens: C'mon, the match is over!!

With a pleading from Eddy Long, Tod finally breaks his hold, as he rolls the semi-unconscious Zenon off of him. As a devilish shit-eating grin forms on Tod's face, a few empty soda cups fly into the ring. Tod takes the occasion to let loose with a verbal barrage on Zenon.

Stevens: Well, nonetheless, it's a big win for Tod deKindes here tonight!

Riley: THERE'S the guy who should be competing for the ICTV title!! The man who's beaten Fallout, Danny Williams, and Annie Eclectic can now add ALEX ZENON to his list because he just made him TAP OUT!!

As Eddy Long tends to Zenon, Tod is seen backtracking up the ramp, and not keeping his eyes off of his former buddy; with that sick evil grin refusing to leave his face.

Stevens: Well, we got more to come later tonight, INCLUDING a Tag Team title match, so stay with us!!

December 7, 2002

"Johnny... angry Johnny... this is... Jezebel, in hell..."

SWF Storm returns from commercial break with Annie Eclectic's theme music already underway. A red spotlight glows at the top of the ramp as Annie appears on stage, proudly displaying the SWF Hardcore Title belt over her shoulder and sauntering down the ramp as the audience pops for the fan favorite.

"Welcome back to Storm, everyone!" announces "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens. "We're back just in time for our second match tonight, featuring the newest member of the Midnight Carnival... Annie Eclectic!"

"That's right, folks, and if you thought that prank she pulled on the Magnificent Seven this week was really lame, you're not alone," comments Bobby Riley thoughtfully.

"Riley!" hisses a frustrated Stevens.

Inside the ring, Funyon begins announcing the competitors for the next match. "The following non-title contest is scheduled for ONE fall!" his voice booms over the speaker system. "Introducing first, from Indianapolis, Indiana, she is the SWF Hardcore Champion and the newest member of the Midnight Carnival.... ANNNIIEEEEEEEE ECLEEEEEECTIIIIIC!"

"Well, except for the entry into the Midnight Carnival, this has not been a happy few weeks for Annie," explains Stevens. "She dropped the United States Championship to Danny Williams earlier this week at SWF Ashes to Ashes."

Various still frames of the match begin to appear on the Smarktron as Riley chimes in his input. "He certainly did! Annie's days of being a double champion are over! And let's not forget the week before, where she got pounded into the ground by Sigil!"

As Annie climbs into the ring, her music fades out, to be abruptly replaced by the sound of a bell tolling.

"Speak of the devil," mutters Stevens.

The haunting cathedral bell tolls three times, and then suddenly a large pyrotechnic explosion rips across the front of the stage. "Halo" by Soil kicks up on the speakers as the masked Sigil steps through the embers of the pyrotechnic display and begins walking down the ramp.

"And her opponent," announces Funyon, "weighing in at 293 pounds... SIIIIIIIIGIIILLLLLLL!"

"Well, this is definitely going to be a fight," says Stevens, "but I'm a bit worried, for Annie's sake, that it's going to turn into more of a squash."

"She can handle herself," Riley replies. "After all, she wasn't a double champ for nothing!"

Sigil climbs on the ring apron and over the top rope, and the bell rings, allowing the match to begin.

"Here we go!" exclaims Stevens.

With both competitors now in the ring, Sigil squares off with Annie, who begins circling her opponent, looking for a weakness. Sigil doesn't give her time to find any, diving straight toward the Hardcore Queen and pummeling her with a series of overhand punches. Annie tries her best to block, and manages to get in a couple of punches of her own, but in the end stumbles back under pressure from Sigil's assault, staggering toward the ropes. Annie pushes herself off the ropes and runs toward Sigil, but Sigil counters her attempt at an offensive maneuver with a quick hip toss that takes her down to the mat. Sigil stomps away at Annie, who tries to pull herself up to the ropes for another attack. Annie ducks a high punch from Sigil and makes good with a knee strike to Sigil's chin that knocks him back a couple of paces.

"Looks like Annie was going for a knee strike to the face," Stevens observes.

"Yeah, but Sigil's so tall, she couldn't reach!" snickers Riley.

Annie follows up her sudden tactical advantage with a snap DDT to take Sigil to the mat. A half beat later, Annie drops to the mat as well, this time to lock her opponent into an arm bar.

"There's an early submission hold from the Hardcore Queen," says Stevens.

Sigil struggles to fight the hold as Annie applies pressure to his arm. The Voice doesn't cry out, either not feeling the pain or not showing any reaction to it. Though his mouth is covered by his silver faceplate, his eyes are expressionless. After a few moments, Sigil turns himself over and grabs the bottom rope with his free arm. The referee sees this action and motions for Annie to break the hold. At first, Annie doesn't comply, and then the referee starts counting. Not wishing to face a disqualification, Annie finally breaks the submission, allowing Sigil to stand up.

"Annie was forced to back down," explains Stevens, "but she looks furious, Riley! She didn't want to let go -- after all, she may have finally had an upper hand position over this monster!"

As Sigil approaches Annie again, she dives out of the way and runs to the ropes, bouncing off them and leaping into the air, connecting with a flying cross body across Sigil's chest -- but incredibly, Sigil catches Annie in midair! Sigil takes the advantage, shifting his grip on Annie and dropping her on her head in a powerful piledriver that momentarily stuns her. Sigil takes this moment to cover Annie in the first pinfall attempt of the match. The referee gets to his knees to make the count.

ONE!

TWO!

THR -- NO, Annie gets her shoulder up, impressively, as she had appeared unconscious to Sigil. Sigil takes the offensive, picking her up off the mat by the collar of her red catsuit, and scooping her body into the air, twisting her body into a backbreaker and slamming her back to the mat.

"Sigil is taking the aggressive stance with Annie Eclectic," notes Stevens.

"When was Sigil 'not aggressive?'" Riley wonders in earnest.

Sigil rolls Annie onto her back and makes a second cover attempt.

ONE!

TWO!

THRE -- NO, Annie kicks out of the cover, continuing the match. Sigil's onslaught continues as he shoves his massive boot into Annie's face, bloodying her nose in the effort.

"Oh, no, look at that!" hollers Stevens. "Annie Eclectic has been busted open by the Revolution!"

Sigil lifts Annie off the mat again, into a standing position, and Irish whips her into the corner. Then Sigil charges to the corner in a running spear attempt, but Annie lifts her leg and meets Sigil with a red leather boot to the face! Sigil staggers back, dazed, and Annie wastes no time in clambering up to the top rope to take advantage of her reversal of fortune. Annie leaps off, grabbing Sigil's head as she sails downward, and as flashbulbs explode everywhere and the crowd cheers, Annie pulls out a magnificent tornado DDT, bringing Sigil, as well as herself, down to the mat!

"Nice aerial work from Annie Eclectic!" Stevens notes.

"Sigil didn't even see that coming!" chimes in Riley.

Trying to ignore the blood on her face, Annie tries to make a cover on Sigil, her first attempt of the night.

ONE!

TWO!

TH -- NO, Sigil powers out, and the Midnight Carnival member is disheartened. Still, Annie refuses to let Sigil up off the mat, grappling him into a ground crossface chicken wing submission with leg scissors. Sigil again struggles against another of Annie's submissions, but this time Annie has Sigil locked in tight. Sigil reaches upward with his free arm, grasping for anything he can reach, but the effort is wasted. After several seconds, Sigil's arm wavers, and then slowly drops to the mat.

After a pause, Stevens catches on. "As crazy as it sounds, I think Annie Eclectic has just managed to wrestle Sigil into unconsciousness!"

Annie breaks the submission hold to get a better look at Sigil, who is lying on his side, eyes closed, with both arms on the mat, one draped over the other. Surprised to have knocked him out, Annie tentatively pokes at Sigil. No reaction. Annie shrugs, then rolls Sigil flat on his back. Still no reaction.

"Nothing! Sigil is out like a light!" Riley exclaims. "Annie has this thing won!"

"Pin him, Annie!" Stevens shouts. "Don't give him a chance to get up! Pin him right here and now!"

Annie hesitates for a moment, getting right up close to Sigil's face. Staring at Sigil's face...

"What the hell is she doing?" Stevens asks.

Staring at the faceplate on Sigil's face... seeing her reflection in the metal of the faceplate...

"Is she thinking what I think she's thinking?" Riley wonders aloud.

Annie reaches her hand out toward Sigil's face... her fingers brushing against the faceplate...

"She's going to try to take the faceplate off! To find out who Sigil really is!" Riley exclaims.

"Annie, don't do it!" Stevens warns, though he knows she can't possibly hear him. "Don't risk losing this match!"

Annie, unaware of the announcer's warning, and more than aware of the rising cheers of the audience, makes a grab for the side of the faceplate, fully intent on ripping it away from Sigil's face...

Sigil's eyes open.

Annie freezes in shock, and that one moment of indecision is all it takes. In the next instant, Sigil has a hand wrapped firmly around Annie's throat. Sigil slowly gets up off the mat, coming to a standing position, never taking his hand away from Annie's neck, and leaving Annie utterly powerless to respond -- she knows if she tries anything, he could snap the neck, and for a terrifying moment she truly believes Sigil may actually do so.

Instead, Sigil lifts her about a foot off the mat, then slams her back down on the apron in a fierce chokeslam that rocks the ring, even causing the referee to wobble a little under the stress of the impact.

"Oh, my--!" is all Riley can say.

"What an impact!" hollers Stevens. "I think Annie may have been seriously injured! Someone needs to get her out of there! This isn't a match; it's a slaughter!"

Sigil lays in a few good hard boot stomps against Annie's side, rolling her off to the side a few feet. Sigil then lifts Annie off the mat again, attempting to toss her backward in a high angle suplex, but Annie counters with a kick to the groin that the referee doesn't quite catch...

"Ooooh, a low blow!" chuckles Riley. "I don't care how big he is; he's going to feel that one in the morning!"

Sigil buckles forward in severe pain, and Annie shoves his head downward between her legs, then grabs Sigil's hands and places them behind his back. The audience roars its approval as Annie drops to the mat in this position, slamming Sigil's face into the ring apron with the Pedigree!

"GOOD MORNING!" shouts a large portion of the audience.

"The Daybreak!" exclaims Stevens. "Annie just hit Sydney Sky's old finisher on Sigil! That should do it right there!"

Annie rolls Sigil over and drapes her arm over him for a potentially match winning cover attempt!

ONE!

TWO!

THREEEEEE --

NO! SIGIL GETS A SHOULDER UP IN AN INCREDIBLY CLOSE CALL! Sigil is still in the match! Annie frowns, and starts to lift Sigil off the mat, but Sigil is faster. Sigil kips up to his feet and fires a superkick to Annie's chest, which sends her back a few feet but doesn't knock her over. Sigil charges Annie with his arm outstretched and delivers a trademark Clothesline from Hell, actually flipping her backward 180 degrees before dropping her onto her back.

"OH, MY GOD!" yells Stevens. "DID YOU SEE THE POWER BEHIND THAT CLOTHESLINE?!"

"Geez, don't be so dramatic!" Riley exclaims, trying to calm down his somewhat taxed broadcast partner.

Sigil doesn't even bother trying to pin Annie at this point, wanting to inflict just a little more punishment before ending the match, and especially angered by Annie's earlier attempt to remove his faceplate. Sigil pulls Annie clear off the mat, again, by the collar of her red leather catsuit. Sigil adjusts his grip on Annie so that he holds her with both arms clutching the undersides of her shoulders, in effect forcing Annie's arms to stretch out of their own accord. Sigil turns slowly, still holding Annie perfectly still in the cruficix position, as if displaying his trophy before the sold out audience. Then, several seconds later, he executes a forward front slam, dropping Annie onto her back, nearly knocking her unconscious.

"BOOM!" shouts Riley. "REDEMPTION on Annie Eclectic! Call it, ref! This one is over!"

The referee makes the count as Sigil hooks the helpless Annie's leg.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

The bell rings and "Halo" kicks up again as Sigil gets up off the mat to stand victorious in the center of the ring. The referee lifts Sigil's arm as Funyon announces: "The winner of this contest as a result of a pinfall... SIIIIIIGILLLLLLL!"

"Sigil is the clear victor here tonight, and scores his first clean pinfall in an SWF ring!" Stevens notes.

"Not to mention he kicked major ass!" Riley chimes in.

In the center of the mat, Annie Eclectic opens her eyes, and is surprised to see that Sigil is staring back at her, despite the distractions of the music and the audience. Their eyes remain locked for a moment, and Annie wonders if Sigil is truly through with her.

In all of Sigil's matches, Annie thinks, Sigil has proceeded to impressively beat down his opponent to within an inch of his or her life -- and having been on the receiving end of one of those beatings, Annie sure didn't want another one.

But this was Sigil's first pinfall victory. Surely Sigil's bloodlust would be satiated with this clean win, wouldn't it? That would be enough for Sigil to walk away, wouldn't it?

It takes only a moment for Annie to realize she was dead wrong.

In her semi-conscious haze, Annie feels herself leave the mat once more as Sigil lifts her into the air. People start shouting, and the ring bell starts ringing -- over and over, but Sigil is unwilling to stop.

Sigil holds Annie in midair with one arm, preparing for another chokeslam attempt, ready to put her out of commission for good. Suddenly getting a better idea, he reaches out with his other hand, lightly caressing along the side of Annie's face.

No, no, no, thinks Annie. He's going for my ear, he's going to tear off my fucking ear! Can't move, can't even scream, why can't I scream?

Fortunately for Annie, Sigil never gets the chance to finish his move. Suddenly a familiar figure comes running down the ramp and quickly slides into the ring... it's Judge Mental!

"Judge Mental!" hollers Stevens. "From the Magnificent Seven!"

"What the hell's he doing out here?" asks Riley.

Mental begins swiftly laying into Sigil with a series of punches, and Sigil has no choice but to drop Annie. Annie lands on the mat and shrinks back from the ensuing melee. Not wanting to take her chances with either man, she rolls out of the ring and stops on the floor to rest.

Sigil and Judge Mental both exchange hard overhand punches, with the sudden melee threatening to become an all out brawl, but it doesn't take long for the ring to suddenly fill with referees and other officials, as the two rivals are broken up forcibly.

"Judge Mental came down here to get his revenge on Sigil for what happened to Mercury!" Stevens exclaims. "And this is the second time tonight that he's been denied that revenge! There's going to be hell to pay, no doubt about that! Folks, we'll be right back with more SWF Storm!"

As Sigil and Mental are dragged off separately up the ramp, Annie kneels on the floor by the ring, watching both wrestlers being led away. She had been spared Sigil's wrath for one night. Though her savior came in the form of a Magnificent Seven member, and she was sure she had nothing to do with Mental's reasons for coming out to the match (being a member of the rival group Midnight Carnival), she had been spared all the same.

Her nose could be fixed up, she surmises, along with any other injuries she may have sustained at the hands of Sigil. A few days to recuperate and she would be good as new.

And all ready to defend her SWF Hardcore Championship against the number one contender, Ash Ketchum.

Annie sighs.

Storm fades out to a commercial break.

December 7, 2002

As we come back from commercial break Tom Flesher sits in the M7 locker room. And standing in front of him is former pupil and M7 member “the Franchise” Mak Francis.

“I had a talk with somebody and they convinced me that this was the right thing to do. I’d like to think we’re still okay since our little alliance against Orochi. Although I’m still A LITTLE bitter about our match.” States Francis a little unsure. “How are you man, still living the high life?”

“…do you have a real question?” is the answer that Tom Flesher gives.

“I guess we’ll cut the pleasantries, you know my question. So what happened in your match with Orochi?”

“He won, and freed me of the ICTV belt.” Says Flesher calmly. “He put me on the King’s road… but I didn’t tap… I’ll never tap.”

“I guess that’s one thing you’ll have over me, for a while.” Adds Francis. He sounds a little bitter about it but hey when one of your two taps ever comes from the hand of you supposed mentor, it’s understandable. “Did he catch you by surprise?”

“No.” comes the short reply with a head shake.

“Did he counter your game plan?”

“No.” replies Flesher again.

“Did he rattle you with that entire freaky feel my love and ‘light’ stuff?” Asks Mak.

“… No.” Says Flesher looking away from his former student.

“Is there anything you can tell me?” questions Mak at the end of his rope.

“…” Is all he gets from Tom.

“You were supposed to be my mentor!” Semi explodes Mak not sure what he needs to say for Flesher too actually say something of value. “Wasn’t that the plan?”

“And you, my protégée correct.”

“Come on Tom tell me something, tell me anything.”

Flesher pause for a moment and then speaks. “I doubt he’d ever beat me again but when he wrestlers now he’s completely different in the ring. It’s like he sets his mind on attacking one thing and nothing stops him. So watch you head out there. And remember your amateur roots. You need every trick you got. That’s all I have for you.”

“That’s enough for me. It’s all I need to start kicking ass and winning titles.”

“Thanks Tom, I appreciate it.”

Flesher nods his head as we go back to commercial break.

December 7, 2002

As Storm returns from yet another commercial break, and a long shot of the arena is shown, the lights go dark, and the fans climb out of their seats, attempting to see how is coming to greet them. At ringside, Stevens and Riley, everyone's favorite commentary duo discuss the new arrival.

Stevens begins, "Well this is certainly a semi blast from the bast eh, Riley?" Stevens asks, as 'Points of Authority' by Linkin Park featuring Gay Gordon, and an array of dazzling multi-colored lights send the fans catatonic. "Stryke is finally back in the Smarks Wrestling Federation, and I for one are happy to have him back!"

"Oh yeah Mark, just listen to me, I'm freaking ecstatic," Riley responds dryly. "If he came out here and beat up a few fans at ringside, then I might take notice... especially this guy!" Riley turns around and yells at the teenager acting like a moron, "Hey! Get out of the fucking shot!"

The camera turns to Stevens, who has an awkward smile on his face, "Uh, I'd just like remind you all at home that Bobby and I will be visiting Havenswood Elementary school this Sunday, so mark it down in your diaries!"

"Don't make my beat the shit out of you punk!"

"Riley!"

While Stevens desperately tries to restrain his partner, a huge wall of pyro explodes! from the entranceway, as the lights come back on, revealing Stryke, standing triumphantly at the entranceway, smiling with his arms outstretched, warmly receiving the adulation from the packed Bradley Center crowd, who are already chanting "Stryke! Stryke! Stryke! Oi! Oi! Oi!" As he walks down the rampway, Funyon standing to attention in the ring, smiling broadly as Stryke gives him a nod and a smile.

He bellows, "The following match is a singles match, and it is scheduled for one fall..." As stryke slides into the squared circle, climbing the turnbuckle and looking out at his many fans, Funyon continues. "Introducing first, from Sydney Australia! Standing six foot three and weighing two hundred and ten pounds, please welcome back to the SWF, the one, the only... STRYKE!"

"Stryke left us for a long time, without a real reason," Stevens explains, "But whatever the case may be, he looks to be in the best condition of his career, and hopefully he can begin a dream return with a win here tonight!"

"I'm sorry to say Mark..." Riley says to his partner, "But I don't like his chances, not one fucking bit..."

"What's with the swearing tonight!?" Stevens yells, "Are you trying to impress Thugg again!?"

"Uh... no, of course not..."

The fans are still on their feet as Points of Authority finally dies down, instead replaced with a buzzing sound over the speakers, as the screen begins to distort, becoming fuzzy. Stevens hits his monitor, thinking it's a technical problem, but it soon disappears, as the camera begins a slow zoom-in of the entranceway, everything under a haze of black and white. Suddenly, Rage Against the Machine's "Killing in the Name Of" kicks up, and the fans look bemused, wondering who this mysterious character is. They squint through the flashing spotlights, catching a glimpse of a 'new face' to the SWF, Bayawolf...

"What the...?" Stevens wonders.

"That's right Mark, never thought you see him in the SWF eh?"

"I don't think anyone thought he would try this stunt in the SWF... what's the reason for all this?" Stevens asks.

"Well, that I don't know Mark, but I'm sure it's more than just a 'stunt' this time," Riley replies.

The old school portion of the crowd immediately identify Bayawolf, and show their displeasure at his return. The rest of the audience just stare on in confusion, wondering who the masked figure is. Bayawolf saunters down the rampway, magnificent blue eyes peering through the crimson red mask covering his head, scorning the audience as they boo his return. Funyon seems taken back as well, and shuffles for his cue cards in his pocket...

"And... his opponent..." He begins, "From Adelaide, Australia, standing six foot one and weighing two hundred and thirty one pounds... ladies and gentleman, he is...BAYAWOLF!"

Wolf stops at ringside, a slight grin showing through his mask as most fans wonder who he is, and some begin to put two and two together, and immediately tell him where to go. Stryke backs away slowly as Bayawolf slides into the ring, jumping to his feet and staring a hole through his opponent.

"Two Australians squaring off in the ring, both returning from extended absences, so we can expect nearly anything to happen." Riley says.

"Well, I know one will have more ring rust than the other, and that could play a pivotal role in the outcome of this match..."

As th bell rings and the fans excitement grows, the two Aussie's circle each other, Stryke playing over strategy in his mind, wanting this match to be a perfect start for him. Bayawolf on the other hand, boasts a rather confident smile, playing off his opponents confusion to his identity. Stryke 'strikes' first, delivering a swift kick, aiming for Wolf's midsection, but the other Aussie steps aside quickly and wraps his arms around Stryke's neck, choking him. Stryke counters however, grabbing Wolf by the head and flipping him over his back, and clutching a hold of his midsection from behind with both arms. Wolf charges to the ropes and grabs hold of them, as Stryke tries to pull Bayawolf backwards, but looses his grip and rolls across the canvas and back to his feet.

"Already these two are countering each other, they both know that one move can all but end a match." Stevens explains.

"They'll certainly be more careful than usual, no one wants to lose their return match, especially when losing one match can mean you're curtain jerking the next show." Riley replies.

"Speaking from experience, Riley?"

"I hate you Mark."

Stryke keeps going, dashing back towards his fellow Australian, but Wolf ducks his head and sends Stryke sailing over the top rope... but Stryke lands on the apron! Wolf swings around with a forearm shot, but Stryke steps off the apron, grabbing Wolf's head in the process, bringing his neck down on the top rope! Wolf splutters and grabs at his throat, giving Stryke enough time to get back onto the apron. Wolf grunts and charges Stryke, but his opponent meets him with a knee to the stomach, winding him for just a second. Stryke hooks Wolf's arm over his shoulder and grabs his belt, trying to bring him over the top rope with a Suplex to the outside! But Wolf counters, hooking his foot under the bottom rope, to make sure he doesn't go anywhere.

"Neither man can dominate his opponent as of yet!" Stevens cries, "Who is going to be the one good enough to break the dead lock?"

Wolf, the stronger of the two, manages to lift Stryke over his head for a Suplex attempt, but Stryke slips out the back at the last moment. Stryke finally manages to pull Bayawolf down with a rollup, but Wolf rolls through and gets to his feet, looking down at Stryke and then stomping on his groin!

"I said good enough! Not cheap enough! That was a blatant low blow, how can the referee let him get away with that!?" Mark yells in disgust.

Bayawolf smirks as the fans respond to his dirty tactics in anger, but Wolf simply glances the referee's way, and all is forgiven, the referee only giving Wolf a warning. Baya picks Stryke up and hits a nasty forearm across the jaw, followed by another. A now dazed Stryke is whipped into the ropes by his opponent, and as he returns, is picked up and slammed back down to the canvas with an arm drag. Wolf drops to the mat and applies a standard armbar...

"Armbar! Oh my god!"

Bayawolf twists Stryke's arm as much as he can, but he's not able to stop Stryke countering with a fist to the head with his free hand. Wolf lets go, but gets right back to his feet. Stryke also gets up, and ducks a clothesline from the Mysterious one. Stryke twirls around and throws some right hands Wolf's way, knocking him back into the turnbuckle. Stryke picks Wolf up and perches him on the top rope, climbing up in front of him. Stryke looks out at his many fans and salutes them, before jumping into the air and locking his legs around Bayawolf's head, trying to flip him over with a hurricanrana! But Wolf thinks quickly and grabs hold of the top rope, and Stryke falls to the mat with a thud! Wolf capitalizes quickly, standing up tall, waiting for Stryke to climb to his feet and leaps off, knocking Aussie #2 down with a flykick to the face! The crowd boos as Wolf takes advantage of the match, hooking Stryke by the leg for the pin!

O

N

E!

T - But he only gets a one count. Wolf doesn't seem frustrated however, keeping calm, cool and collected and he picks Stryke up and throws him into the turnbuckle, grabbing his right arm and wrapping it around the top rope, twisting it into impossible angles.

"It seems Bayawolf is back to his old tricks..." Stevens glumly calls, "He's picked out the place he wants to target, and he's gonna makes Stryke's life hell, working on it every chance he gets."

"He is a bit of a bastard for doing it Mark..." Riley replies with a smile, "But you got to admit, it's damn effective, and it's saved him many matches. The opponent will be dominating, and Sacr- er, I mean Wolf will just simply hit the wounded area and open a door to victory with one single action."

The ref rushes over and warns Wolf once again to stop. Baya looks at the ref scornfully, but reluctantly lets go, as Stryke gabs his arm in pain. Wolf attempts to whip Stryke across the ring, but he reverses it into a short-arm clothesline attempt! But Wolf is up to the challenge and ducks, grabbing Stryke's arm on the way through and crushing it over his shoulder! Stryke falls to his knee's and yelps in pain as Bayawolf smirks and circles his fallen prey, stomping on his injured arm and shoulder, increasing the pain Stryke is suffering...

"It's a valid tactic, but one day, someone is going to give Bayawolf a taste of his own medicine, and then will see who's smirking..."

"You're not really the smirking type Mark." Riley replies with a laugh.

"And you're not really the intelligent type, but that doesn't stop you from trying to sound it, does it?"

"... Don't hurt my feelings, I'm a very emotional man..."

Wolf simply slumps over Stryke, pinning his shoulders down to the mat...

O

N

E

T

W

O - But again Stryke kicks out, to a massive applause from the crowd! A few signs of frustration begin to creep into Wolf as he curses himself and picks Stryke back up, grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back, but the crowd favorite counters with a back elbow to Wolf's head! Wolf is stunned, but just wrenches harder, causing Stryke to yell in pain. The Aussie tries his best to work through the pain, and counters again, beating Wolf off of him with some more elbows. Wolf grunts and wipes the blood away from his nose, trying to club Stryke down with a hard forearm, but Stryke ducks it and grabs Wolf by the waist, cringing as he tries to pick him up from behind, and slam him on the back of his neck with a German Suplex!

"What spirit from the young Aussie, despite Wolf's best efforts, Stryke is weathering the onslaught, and retaliating with courage!" Mark says happily.

"Oh give me a break, why don't you just marry the guy or something!?"

Stryke holds onto Baya in a bridge for the pin!

O

N

E!

T

W - But Stryke's arm gives away, and Wolf's shoulders get off the mat after a two count. The fans sigh in disappointment as Stryke gets to his feet, holding his arm and cursing the pain he is going through, but he suddenly stops, and looks around at the fans. Every single one of them are on their feet, cheering for him, and calling his name in support. "Stryke! Stryke!" A smile comes across his face and he forgets about the searing pain in his arm and lifts Bayawolf to his wobbly feet. Stryke uses his left arm to throw his punches, seeing as his right is too out of action, but his punches still have the same effect, as Bayawolf cringes as each punch crushes into his face.

"Interesting..." Riley ponders, "Bayawolf is quick to protect his face from Stryke's punches, it seems to be affecting him more than it normally would..."

Wolf succumbs to the assault and backs himself into the turnbuckle, seething as he holds his face from further punches. Stryke notices this weakness and leaves it in the forefront of his memory, as he goes to town on Bayawolf's ribs, driving his shoulder and spearing Bayawolf in the stomach, winding him once more. Wolf leaves tending to his face for a split second to grab at his stomach, and Stryke goes back to pummeling his face, punishing the evil Aussie for his dishonest tactics. Stryke grabs the Aussie by the hand and throws him across the ring, into the opposite turnbuckle. Stryke makes a beeline for his opponent, ducking his head, and like a bull targets Bayawolf, having him in his sights...

But no! Wolf grabs the top rope and pulls himself up to safety, as Stryke's shoulder smashes into the steel ring post! An all mighty scream is heard from Stryke as he stumbles backward, gasping as the pain surges through his shoulder and down his arm. Bayawolf's eyes grow intense as he watches Stryke stumble away in pain. Wolf grabs Stryke and throws him across the ring, crushing his shoulder against the opposite ring post!

"This is just sick! It may be his game plan, but I know that in his sick twisted mind of his, Wolf is enjoying it!" Stevens cries.

Stryke rolls out of the ring to what he thinks is safety, but Bayawolf has other ideas in mind. Stryke holds his arm as he looks around confused, loosing sight of his opponent. Wolf runs across the the ropes, leaps onto the second rope and then turns and flies over the ropes immediately opposite, coming down on Stryke with a flying cross-body! A sickening thud is heard as both men slam into the concrete, and the fans "Oooooh!" in reply. The referee begins to count both men out, reaching four, as Bayawolf lists Stryke to his feet and throws him against the guardrail with all malice intended. The fans nearest Wolf try and grab at his mask, but he soon sets them straight with a threat of a back hander. He grins manically as he crushes Stryke's arm against the rail

"I don't see much hope for Stryke if Wolf keeps up this relentless punishment," Riley remarks. "He is simply tearing that arm apart, Stryke may not even have a career after the final bell is rung."

"No, I know Stryke, he's fought much tougher odds, and you can't keep a good man down for long." Stevens says in reply.

The referee reaches seven on his count, and Bayawolf decides it's best to get back in the ring, as he rolls Stryke back under the bottom rope, and slowly climbs onto the ring apron. Stryke is back to his feet quicker than Bayawolf's expects, and is caught unawares by a dropkick to the face by Stryke! Wolf cries out and falls off the apron, on all fours on the concrete, as blood seeps through his mask and out the eyehole, creating a rather sickening sight.

"Yep, something is definitely wrong, a dropkick alone couldn't do that much damage, I think Bayawolf is hiding something from us..." King remarks.

The fans seem happy at these turn of events, and cheer for Stryke, rallying him to do more. Stryke gets to his feet, watching Wolf struggle to his feet, wiping the blood from his eyes. The Aussie bounces off the ropes behind him and charges across the ring, diving through the second rope and collapsing on top of Bayawolf! The fans pop for the suicide move from Stryke, who gets to his feet, a little worse for wear, but not as much as Bayawolf, who leans against the guard rail, huffing and puffing, dazed and confused. Stryke grabs him and throws his head against the guard rail, just once, just as a message that he too knows his weakness. Stryke throws Bayawolf back into the ring and follows him in afterwards, rolling him over and pinning him to the canvas...

O

N

E!

T

W

O!

T - But Bayawolf kicks out much to the crowd's displeasure! Stryke seems a little frustrated with himself as he shakes his arm a little, trying to get the feeling back into it. Wolf crawls away and climbs to his feet with help from the ropes, but Stryke is onto him like a... dingo, delivering some hard right hands, before whipping poor Bayawolf into the ropes. Bayawolf hits the ropes and comes back, and is tossed over Stryke's head like a ragdoll! But he manages to land on his feet! Before he can counter though, Stryke turns around and kicks Bayawolf in the midsection, doubling him over. Stryke grabs Wolf around the neck and falls backwards, driving his head into the canvas with a DDT!

Mark yells, "The day has come sooner than I expected! Stryke is taking full advantage of the apparent injury to Bayawolf's face, and it has brought him back into this match!"

Stryke stands atop Bayawolf, just shaking his head, as if he were expecting a tougher challenge. Stryke extends his elbow and dives to the mat, crushing it against Wolf's face, once, twice... three times! Stryke lifts Bayawolf back up and tries hard to lift him up in a standard scoop slam, but turns him around and slams him on his knee with a backbreaker! Stryke takes a moment, the pressure put on his arm is enourmous, and the pain is becoming unbearable. With Wolf on his back, Stryke begins pummeling him in the face with right hands! Stryke goes for another right hand, but Wolf counters, grabbing his arm and yanking him down to the mat! Stryke quickly gets back to his feet and ducks a spinning heel kick. Bayawolf turns back around and grabs Stryke under the arm, ready for a bookend!

Riley shouts, "The Spanish Inquisition!"

"Uh, actually, that was Bayawolf's move Bobby..." Mark replies.

"What the hell is the difference between the two Stevens?"

"I have no idea, but I'm sure we'll find out sooner or later..."

Bayawolf tries to lift Stryke up, but Stryke holds firm and blocks it! Stryke makes a simple adjustment with his arms, and wraps his ankle around Bayawolf's, ready for the Crossing Over!

"Stryke's looking to finish this right now!" Mark yells.

Stryke tries to pull Bayawolf to the mat with a flat liner type maneuver, but Wolf desperately tries to block it, wrenching on Stryke's arm and stopping him from performing the move! Stryke is finally forced to let go, giving Bayawolf enough time to knee Stryke in the ribs and double him over. Bayawolf locks on a front face lock, lifts his leg up and then simultaneously swings his leg back and falls forward, hitting the Cruel Fate, Part Deux!

"NO! Bayawolf with a modification of the Cruel Fate, and this one is over, it has to be!" Riley yells.

Bayawolf wipes the blood from his mask and crawls over, slumping his arm across Stryke's chest...

O

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T

W

O!

T

H

R

E

E! That's it! Bayawolf wins, and the crowd is in an uproar! They boo the hell out of Bayawolf as "Killing in the Name of" kicks up and Funyon gets on the stick to announce, "The Winner of this bout... BAYAWOLF!"

"Ahahaha! I knew he would do it! Bayawolf... I mean... ah screw it, the evil guy wins this match, and comes back to the SWF on a winning note!" Riley cries with pride.

"He's back all right, and back to turning his tricks once again. Bayawolf may have got over the line tonight, but just barely, as Stryke made him earn this win, and proved he still has what it takes to beat the best, and believe me, Bayawolf is one of the best, but Stryke will have his moment... it's just not tonight."

As blood drips onto the canvas, staining it permanently, Wolf slides out of the ring, out of breath, but victorious as the referee holds his arm aloft, and checks him to see if he's all right...

Bayawolf shrugs him off and walks back up the ramp, not quite in the mood to celebrate, just content with the win...

"The ranks of the SWF are strenghted with these two new arrivals, and after the break, two more new arrivals, one old hand and a recent bumpee will go head to head, one on one, and it promises to be just as exciting as this one!" Stevens boasts proudly. "So join us after the break, for more SWF Storm!"

December 7, 2002

“Okay, look, take Kibagami, for instance. Now, Nathan’s valet is named Angel, and she spoke to Thoth before he started this whole ‘Orochi’ thing…”

”Bobbi, I’m not playing ‘Six Degrees of Tom Flesher’ with you. We’re on the air.”

”Pwfah. You’re just upset because I always win.”

The camera returns to ‘Grand Slam’ Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley at the announce table, the Milwaukee fans in the background frantically waving their arms in the hopes of being seen on national television.

“Welcome back to SWF Storm, everyone!”

The house lights dim to a harsh red as the drumbeats from beginning of Rage Against the Machine's "Testify" softly, slowly begin to crescendo up. The drumbeat gets louder and louder, and as the drum hits the cymbal there is a split second of silence before....

"NOW TESTIFY!"

The song skips to midway through and continues on as three sets of red pyros shoot up all across the stage, and Judge Mental appears on the entrance ramp. He walks down to the ring in a very precise and deliberate step, casting a dirty glance at a particularly loud member of the audience as he approaches the ring apron.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this contest is scheduled for one fall…making his way to the ring, he weighs in at two hundred and fifty pounds, and hails from Royal Oak, Michigan. He is a member of the Magnificent Seven, and is making his SWF debut…ladies and gentlemen, please welcome JUDGE MENTAL!”

The Wisconsin crowd ‘welcomes’ the Judge with a rousing round of boos as he slides underneath the ropes and into the ring. Mental rolls to his feet and quickly crosses to the ropes, where he begins stretching in preparation for his match.

“I’ve heard a lot of good things about the Judge’s performance in the JL, Mark. A two-time World champion, only defeated once in a singles setting, one of the federation’s premier technical wrestlers…the list of accolades goes on and on, Stevens. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the honorable Judge here walked away with his first SWF win tonight.”

“Judge Mental does have a great deal of experience in the ring, yes, and I’m not taking anything away from his prior performances. But the JL isn’t the SWF, Riley, and you know it. And I don’t think the Judge has ever faced anyone quite like his opponent tonight…”

The lights turn a deep shade of red as an unfamiliar guitar rhythm begins to play over the sound system. The rest of the band starts playing, and the raspy voice of Shifty Shellshock begins rapping the first verse of Crazy Town’s “Decorated”. A cloud of fog starts to roll out from behind the curtain at the top of the ramp as the chorus approaches…

And I’ve got pills for the pain (Pills for the pain)

Deep down inside I’ve got a chilling refrain (I’m going insane)

These crazy thoughts keep running ‘round in my brain

They’re leading me to places decorated in flames

Dec-dec-dec-dec-dec-decorated in flames..

An explosion of red pyrotechnics at ringside and at the top of the ramp punctuates the chorus as Nathaniel Kibagami and Angel make their way through the curtains.

“Introducing second, he weighs in at two hundred and forty-two pounds, and hails from Phoenix, Arizona. Being accompanied to the ring by Angel…NATHANNNNN KIBAGAMI!”

Kibagami purposefully strides down to ringside, as oblivious as ever to the screaming crowd around him, and slides into the ring underneath the bottom rope. Angel assumes her customary cheerleading position by the stairs next to the Spanish announce table. Nathan leaps onto the second turnbuckle and extends his arms briefly in the familiar crucifix pose as the lights come up and “Decorated” begins to fade out…

“Nathaniel Kibagami, formally known to us as Silent, re-debuted on Sunday at Ashes to Ashes, and put in a very impressive performance before being foiled by the combined efforts of Tod deKindes and Alex Zenon – two very unlikely partners, I might add. “

“He’s not the same, Stevens – The Slaughterer wouldn’t have lost that match. He would’ve broken both their necks if he had to, and I suppose he might’ve been fired for that…but he would’ve won!”

”Bobbi, if you were paying attention to something other than your coffee, you’d notice…is that an espresso machine?”

”Well, yes, it is. I thought Flesher might want to try something a little different in the main event tonight.”

Stevens shakes his head and turns his attention to the ring, where Judge Mental and Nathan Kibagami are slowly approaching each other in the center of the ring…

**DING DING**

…and the two men launch themselves into a collar-and-elbow tie-up, nearly knocking senior referee Matthew Kivell to the canvas as they do so!

“No lack of enthusiasm there!”

”Of course not! The Judge wants to impress The Superior One in his debut match – and I don’t doubt that he will, Stevens!”

Mental quickly pushes Kibagami back into the ropes, forcing a break from Matty Kivell. No sooner is the referee out of the way than the Judge unleashes a single knife-edged chop –

SMACK!

”WHOOOOOO!”

Nathan is momentarily stunned, and Mental tries to take advantage by circling his opponent and applying a Cobra Clutch, but Kibagami instinctively drops forward to escape the move and hooks his legs around Mental’s ankles, taking the newest member of the Magnificent Seven down to the mat! Keeping his hold on Judge’s right leg, Kibagami bridges backwards and locks his hands underneath Mental’s chin, applying a picture-perfect Muta Sickle! The audience applauds as Mental swiftly hooks his free foot on the bottom rope, and Nathan rolls to the side and onto his feet when Kivell forces him to break the hold.

“A bit of a miscalculation by the Judge there, trying to outwrestle Nathan this early in the match. Mental would do well to remember that Kibagami spent several years overseas in the BattlARTS promotion – taking him to the mat may not be the way to win this match.”

Riley snorts as the two men in the ring approach each other once again. “You obviously don’t follow the JL very well for a member of talents relations, Mark. Mental always has a plan when he goes into a match and a backup plan in case the original fails. All he needs is for Silent—“

”Nathan.”

”Fine, all he needs is for NATHAN,” Riley hisses, “To make a mistake, and that’ll be the end of him.”

The two athletes lock up once again, and Nathaniel gets the advantage this time, snatching a quick headlock and dropping to one knee to prevent Judge from using the ropes to counter. Mental struggles briefly, trying to find a way out of the hold, but Kibagami is adamant with the headlock, and the Judge quickly goes limp. Nathan stands, looking for a headlock takedown, but Mental springs to life with a pair of forearms to his opponent’s exposed ribs and pushes Nathaniel in the direction of the turnbuckle.

“There it is!” squeals Bobbi as Mental charges into the corner after his adversary. “Nathan’s made a mistake, and now the Judge is going to…”

Riley’s words die on his lips as the ex-Clansmen vaults backwards over his oncoming opponent, using the ropes to push himself over Judge’s head, and reapplies his headlock. Judge tries to turn into and out of the hold, but Nathan uses that moment of inattention to take Judge to the mat with a headlock takedown! The Milwaukee crowd applauds this little display of wrestling as Kibagami kicks Mental’s feet away from the ropes to prevent a break.

“Fantastic ring awareness from Nathan Kibagami,” notes Grand Slam, as Judge fights to his feet, still in the headlock. Another pair of forearms to the ribs winds Nathan enough that Mental is able to push him across the ring and into the opposite ropes. Nathan comes barreling back and knocks the Judge to the ground with a hard shoulder tackle…and drops to the mat right behind him, reapplying the headlock!

“Smart strategy from Nathan, trying to wear down his stronger opponent.”

”With a headlock? Jesus, Mark, I thought you said he wrestled in BattlARTS! That’s one of those overseas Japanese promotions, isn’t it? He hasn’t dropped Mental on his head ONCE in this match!”

”Be patient, Riley. Be patient.”

The honorable William Hearford is quick to his feet, and he tries to counter the headlock with a backdrop, but Nathaniel manages to flip over in midair and land on his feet! Judge charges to the ropes and comes bounding off of them, but Kibagami leapfrogs over the oncoming shoulder tackle and drops to his stomach as Mental rebounds off the opposite side of the ring, forcing the M7 member to leap over him. Nathan kips up to his feet, drawing a small pop from the crowd, and as the Judge comes back off of the ropes…

SMACK!

…Kibagami LEVELS him with a devastating gamengiri! Nathan hooks the leg as Angel cheers him on…

ONE!

TWO!

Judge Mental kicks out, more by instinct than by design, judging from the dazed look on his face.

“So far, youth and skill seems to have the clear advantage over age and experience, Riley.”

”Just you wait, Mark. Just you wait.”

Kibagami pulls his opponent to his feet, seemly energized by the cheers of the crowd, and reapplies his headlock to his dazed opponent…but Judge Mental lifts a surprised Kibagami up and backwards, nearly dumping him on his head with a modified backdrop!

A sympathetic “Ohhhh” is heard from the crowd as Nathan clutches his neck in pain and Mental rests briefly on his laurels, still shaking out the cobwebs from Kibagami’s earlier gamengiri.

“Did you see the way he landed, Riley? He almost landed right on his neck! Mental’s done his scouting well – Nathan isn’t making things any easier on himself, favoring his neck like that!”

”It doesn’t matter whether he favors it or not, Mark. Everybody and their mother knows his neck is bad – the Judge is going to break it no matter what!”

Riley cackles in disturbing fashion as Judge Mental, on his feet again, drives his boots into the side of Nathan’s head, ignoring Angel’s screams of protest as Nathan gradually rolls into the corner to protect himself. Mental pulls Kibagami up out of the corner and applies a standing front facelock, wrenching on Nathan’s neck as hard as he can.

Kibagami makes a desperate grab for the ropes, but Mental snapmares him over to prevent it, transitioning to a sleeper hold as he does so. Kibagami keeps fighting, looking for some leverage to break out of the hold, so Mental pulls his head sharply back to the mat and applies a figure-four headscissors to wear the ex-Clansmen down further.

“Now we’re going to see what Judge Mental can do!” exclaims Riley as Kibagami sputters for breath in the ring. “He’s going to take that watered-down Tajiri rip-off in there and dismantle him, piece by piece – beginning with his neck!”

“Way to advertise for the competition, Bobbi.”

”What? What’d I say?”

Mental releases the figure-four, and Kibagami collapses to the mat, gasping for breath. The M7 recruit rises to his feet, leaps into the air, and comes crashing down on his opponent’s face with a knee drop! The Judge covers Nathaniel with a lateral press, grinding his forearm into the bridge of Nathan’s nose as he does so –

ONE!

TWO!

Kibagami kicks out, much to the delight of the Wisconsin fans. Undaunted, Judge simply pushes Nathan’s shoulders back to the mat –

ONE!

TWO!

Nathan kicks out again, and Judge covers him again, this time hooking the leg for leverage –

ONE!

TWO!

”Three covers from Judge Mental, and three kickouts from Nathaniel Kibagami!” exclaims Mark Stevens as Judge Mental pulls his opponent to his feet.

”Judge knows he has to work on Silent’s neck—“

”Nathan’s neck.”

”Whatever. Judge is staying focused on Nathan’s neck, trying to wear the man down!”

Mental pulls a disoriented Nathan into the corner and slams his head into the turnbuckle. Before Kibagami can regain his senses, the Judge launches a flurry of forearms shots into his opponent’s head and neck.

“Mental’s really fired up now – he smells blood in the water.”

”But…Kibagami’s not bleeding, Mark.”

”…”

Mental pulls Nathan into the center of the ring, sneering at a visibly upset Angel as he does so, and takes Kibagami up and over with a vicious snap suplex. The Judge holds on to Nathan’s tights as Kibagami connects with the canvas, keeping him in the suplex position, and pulls Nathan to his feet for another snap suplex. Mental looks ready to suplex his opponent once again…but the Judge executes a standing switch, going quickly behind Kibagami, and locks the ex-Clansmen in a full nelson!

”Mental’s going for a Dragon Suplex – that could easily put Kibagami away!”

”Wait, counter!”

Nathan slips one arm free of his opponent’s grasp and drops to the mat, pulling his other arm out of the hold. Kibagami quickly turns and cradles Mental’s legs, pushing his opponent over and pinning his shoulders to the canvas!

ONE!

”Hey, ref, he’s holding the tights!”

TWO!

”Damn it, Bobbi, no he isn’t…wait, yes he is!”

THREE!

**DING DING**

“Decorated” hits the speakers, the fans explode in cheers, and a VERY pissed of Judge Mental leaps to his feet…to see Kibagami already halfway up the ramp, Angel beside him, holding his neck gingerly with one hand.

“Well, I’ll be damned!” says Mark Stevens. “Nathaniel Kibagami steals one from the debuting Judge Mental with a roll-up and a handful of tights!”

“Maybe there’s still hope for him, eh, Stevens?”

”I don’t think he did that just to do it, Bobbi. The man’s had his neck broken once before…I suppose you do what you have to do to protect yourself in that situation.”

“Bah! Quit your rationalizing! It’s like I always say, Mark. Win if you can, lose if you must, but ALWAYS cheat.”

”Riley, you’ve never said that.”

”But I could’ve.”

The camera gets one last shot of a fuming Judge Mental in the ring before starwiping to a commercial…

December 7, 2002

As the crowd buzzes happily from the last match and we return from commercial, we are greeted with the melodious sounds of “The Pokemon Theme” by Billy Crawford as Ash Ketchum steps through the curtain and onto the stage.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WELCOME BACK TO STORM, LIVE FROM MILWAUKE!!!” Stevens exclaims. Riley eyes him cautiously with what looks to be a look of distaste.

“Someone needs to cut down on their fuckin’ coffee intake...”

Riley smirks after his snide comment, while Ketchum slides into the ring and hops onto his feet. He wears something similar to what the Rock wore during his last WWE stint: those white-striped warm-up pants, a pair of black Nike Air Force Ones, and a black T-shirt, something new to his SWF merchandise collection, reading in white on the front:

“Your dream is over...”

And on the other side, in white:

“The Nightmare is about to begin!

He quickly makes his way towards Funyon as we hear:

“Ladies and gentlemen...” Funyon starts, “Please Welcome, The Undercard King and a member of X FORCE NINE... ASH KETCHUMMMMMMMMM!!!!”

Ketchum abruptly reaches out as Funyon hands the mic off to him following the announcement. The music dies down just as a “KETCHUM! KETCHUM!” chant kicks up in the arena.

“I wonder why he’s out here...” Stevens wonders.

“Maybe he’s leaving. I’d be happy.” Riley replies with a smile.

Ketchum lifts the mic to his lips, and the first thing he does is...

“HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MILWAUKEE!!!!” The crowd pops insanely loud and begins to chant Ash’s name, but he holds his hand up to them. “Hold on there... stop it for a sec. I got something to say.”

“Retire already!!!!” Riley screams, jumping out of his chair and slamming his fists into the table.

Ketchum clears his throat and begins a long monologue:

“I’m out here because I have an agends to meet and thing to do. Quite frankly, after Ashes to Ashes, that agenda changed, and so did the things I had planned. Some of those things might be a bit awkward and violent for someone with the track record of Ash Ketchum to pull off. Hell, I dunno if I can even do the stuff I want. I mean... come on... I hit people with a damn fist helmet for crying out loud!!!”

A huge pop goes up for the Pokemania fist helmet mention, but the announcers have a few comments of their own.

“Can you retire now?” Riley quips.

Stevens doesn’t look pleased. “If the man’s gonna retire, give him a chance to speak!”

The crowd quiets just enough for Ash to start up again.

“Because of just... the severity of the things I plan to do, namely to that bastard Sigil... you know what... fuck that. I don’t need to say that to explain what I gotta say.”

Ketchum briefly pauses as the crowd waits for a response.

“Sigil, at Ashes to Ashes... you destroyed Ash Ketchum. Tore him limb from limb. TOTALED HIM. ANNIHILATED HIM. I suffered fuckin’ concussion #4 in my career of 11 years, a sprained neck, and numerous cuts, bruises, and shit like that. But most of all, you broke the spirit of Pokemania. To tell you the truth... I’m too hurt to continue on as Ash, so as of tonight, you can consider the Poke Freak on the injured list and this as maybe the last time any of you will see Ash Ketchum ever again.”

The crowd actually boos at Ash Ketchum because they don’t want him to go, and think, that maybe, if by booing, they’ll change his mind.

“Are they booing Ash Ketchum, their hero? Why... yes! Yes they are! BECAUSE HE’S A SIMPY ASS WUSS!!!” Riley dances with joy in his seat before Grand Slam slaps him across the face.

“Ladies and gentlemen... I don’t believe that this is the end of Pokemania forever...” Stevens says with a touch of sadness in his voice. “This is heartbreaking for me, personally, as I have known Ash for a long time and watched him turn from a ML curtain jerker into a 3-time SWF Hardcore Champion and legend.”

Ketchum hears the crowd’s boos and promptly screams out in anger...

“SHUT UP!!!!”

The crowd only boos louder at Ketchum as he attempts to quiet them.

“Shut up and listen, dumbasses.”

The crowd only boos more at this point, but it’s so light that Ash can speak over it.

“Good. Now, what I said was that this might be Ash’s last time out here...”

“But it sure as fuckin’ hell ain’t mine.”

The crowd insanely pops again. Ash Ketchum might be gone, but the man behind the “mask” is staying put.

“That’s right. I’m staying, but the masquerade is over. I want you to respect me for who I am, not just for some gimmick, which I hope most of you already do. I’m not Ash Ketchum anymore. I’m me. I’m Michael Craven-”

“KETCHUM! KETCHUM!” The ignorant crowd chants for Ash as Craven stand in the ring. He looks like he’s about to explode, perhaps, as the fans chant for Mike’s old gimmick. Quickly, he intercedes on the chant and speaks his mind.

“Cut it, idiots.” The crowd boos as Michael continues on. “You’re doing it wrong. It’s... ‘Craven! Craven!’ now!”

And so, the sold out Bradley Center,every single fans, begins a “CRAVEN! CRAVEN!” chant. Michael Craven smiles with content as he hears the fans chant his name.

“Awww hell no!” Riley flips out after hearing the fans chant for Michael Craven, nearly throwing his chair into the crowd in a rage.

“Michael Craven is here to stay!!!” Stevens exclaims as Riley ponders the future for this man.

“Ooooooo... what’s he gonna be now? Mr. Digimon?!?!”

“Muuuuuuuuuuch better.” Craven smiles as he comments on the new chant. “Now anyways, back to Sigil-”

The crowd suddenly bursts into boos upon hearing the name of the man that “killed” their hero.

“Yes yes, he’s evil.” Craven smiles as the crowd pops slightly before he continues on his rant. “He’s tortured me, terroized me, threatened me and my family, and maimed me... and I can’t do a damn thing about it in return because it wrecks my character, so to speak. But Sigil... now that I’m not restricted to being Mr. Goody Twoshoes... I can finally show you why you don’t fuck with Michael Craven! I’m not you biggest fantasy or your wildenst dream... I’m your worst nightmare!!!!!!”

The crowd pops insanely as Craven stands there, absorbing the crowd’s warm response.

“HOLY SHIT!!!!!” Steven nearly has a heart attack and doubles over at the thought of Michael Craven turning into another Stone Cold. Bobby Riley weeps... but weeps happily. He likes the new Michael Craven.

In the stands, the crowd bursts into separate “Craven!” and “Ketchum!” chants. Mike laughs at the ignorance of half the crowd, who obviously hasn’t been paying attention.”

“Hmmmm... so you people still can’t get it right, huh?” Craven remarks in a happy mood. “Half you sure are dumbasses.”

Those words cause one half of the crowd to boo and the other half cheers, but Craven hushes both sides.

“Whoa whoa... before ya boo me, remember who I used to be, and let me say, that person will be back someday-” The crowd pops huge for the mention that Ash Ketchum will return one day, but Craven treks onward. “But for now, let me do my business and take care of what I gotta do. And Sigil, that’s kickin’ your ass...” Craven turns towards the entrance and points backstage at this point. “And anyone else’s ass that gets in my way of doing what I want, when I want, why I wanna, oh yeah...

And winning the SWF WORLD TITLE!!!!!”

An amazing pop rises up from the audience as Craven finishes the damn thing off with:

“And that, my friends, I can guarantee will happen!!! NOW HIT MY NEW DAMN MUSIC!!!”

And with that, “Cochise” by Audioslave blasts over the speakers as Craven smiles, spinning slowly in the ring, arms open to the fans as they all cheer him.

“LONG LIVE MICHAEL CRAVEN!!!” Riley screams over the music and Stevens chimes in with a remark of his own.

“And with that, Ash Ketchum has been put away for a while, with a guarantee he’ll return, and instead replaced with Michael Craven! What does this mean for the SWF, and has he declared war on the entire SWF roster? We hoep to hear more from this new face of the man formerly known as Ash Ketchum in the weeks to come!”

And with Mark’s final comments, we cut away to a commercial for Pepsi Twist MAX, and it’s new buddy, Pepsi Blue MAX!

December 7, 2002

The camera comes back from commercial break to a loud crowd standing and awaiting more SWF brand action. The Bradley Center in Milwaukee, Wisconsin nearly shakes as fans voice their opinion on how good a show they have seen thus far and possibly because they are getting their fifteen seconds of fame!

“Hello and welcome back to SWF Storm!” announces the Heavy Hitter himself, Grand Slam Mark Stevens, reintroducing all the viewers to another exciting SWF television product. “We’ve had some quality match ups here in Milwaukee, Wisconsin at The Bradley Center!”

“So far that is very true Mark.” Adds the much less excited, well actually bored Bobby Riley in a monotone voice that suggests he’s getting cues.

”Like the hot opener between your boy, Tod deKindes Bobby Riley and Alex Zenon in a revenge match from the PPV!”

“Do you have a problem with the sole survivor of XF9 Grand Spam,” questions Riley. “Because if you do…”

“No Bobby, perish the though!” replies Stevens, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “And the action has stayed hot even though no title belts have been or will be on the line until TONIGHT’S MAIN EVENT! In which, Tom Flesher and Frost of the Magnificent Seven each look to rebound off of Pay-Per-View losses to CIA-”

“*cough*, Fluke win!” comes the ‘witty’ barb from Riley.

Which, of course Mark no-sells. “And the man in this up coming non title contest, the NEW ICTV champion, Orochi!”

“He still isn’t superior…”

“…by defending against their SWF tag team titles against CIA and his partner of choice ELM, as stipulated in the contract he had with Frost.”

“Meh, whatever…”

“So, with Orochi concussing Ced at the Pay-Per-View, Mak Francis looks to step up and get retribution for his fallen friend. And even though Francis seemed upset at his Pay-Per-View loss, he’s here to stick up for his fellow man and tag partner!”

And right on cue the arena lights go out. Funyon gets ready and the crowd gets ready as the first riff of “Down with the Sickness” by Disturbed plays lowly over the PA system, getting louder as it is picking up in pace…

“The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALLLLLL!” Bellows the ever dressed to impress Funyon.

** Are you ready? **

** Are You Ready?! **

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

The Smarktron flashes the words 'The Franchise' and that's followed by a blue and white photonegative image of Mak Francis. As the arena is re illuminated, 'The Franchise' comes out onto the stage receiving a healthy mixed reaction!

“Making his way to the ring, he hails from Philadelphia, PA and weighs in tonight at two hundred and twenty five pounds… “The Franchise” MAAAK FRAAAAAANCISsssssss!”

He slowly strolls down to ringside and climbs the ring steps before hopping onto the apron. Francis wipes his feet as he crosses the apron and enters the ring through the middle ropes. Mak then walks towards the middle and poses in the center of the ring with both his hands raised in the air!

“And here is the Franchise, looking to avenge his partner and pick up a win over Orochi!”

“A much needed win over the ICTV champion in my opinion Mark as Mak has hit a dry spell as of-” Almost finishes Riley but suddenly, the calm and gently voice of Hikaru Utada plays over the PA system, letting all know that the Lightbringer is on his way…

Don'na tokidatte

Tatta hitori de

Unmei wasurete

Ikitekita no ni

Totsuzen no hikari no naka, megasameru

Mayonaka ni

And just like that the arena is completely and utterly covered, no it is bathed in blinding white light, shocking the senses of all who dare look.

Shizuka ni deguchi ni tatte

Kurayami ni hikari o ute

Imadoki yakusoku nante

Fuan ni saseru dake kana

Negai o kuchini shitai dake sa

“And his OPPONENT…” Starts Funyon, partially blinded as well.

As the song “Hikari” by Hikaru Utada completes another verse, the luminescent flash of light finally dims to reveal Orochi. The man once known as Thoth who now considers himself a god has arrived in a wall of luminary.

Ku ni mo shôkai suru yo

Kitto umaku ikuyo

Don'na tokidatte

Zutto futari de

Don'na tokidatte

Soba ni iru kara

Kimi to iu hikari ga watashi o mitsukeru

Mayonaka ni

“… he hails from Aechiba, Japan and weighs in tonight at two hundred and forty five pounds, ORRRRROCHIIIIIII!”

As Orochi walks down the aisle, his arms open to receive the crowd’s love. Though not surprisingly they’re chanting and booing in utter disdain! He climbs to the ring, and steps through the ropes, a sick grin plastered across his face, in stark contrast to the melodic music, looking at Francis as referee Matt Kivell takes his belt and hands it to a ringside assistant.

“Orochi is also in need of a win here to establish himself as ICTV champion and a win over Francis has been hard for him to get as in their two other match Mak came away a winner.” Comments Stevens. “So both men are looking for some respect out of this match!”

“Respect is so overrated Stevens,” starts Riley. “I mean you don’t respect me or my wrestling knowledge one iota and I’m STILL getting a higher salary than you!”

“But you just waste it on Tom Flesher merchandise anyways, so the company is more than happy to give you more money than your actual life is worth.”

Bobby Riley just tuts as Matt Kivell motions to the time keeper and this match is on like Vaughn! Orochi’s facial expression changes from crazy to and eerily cool frown as Mark being the best in the business gives us the play by play. “Kivell asks for the bell and we start this non title match up between Mak Francis and Orochi!”

DING! DING! DING!

The two grapplers face off in the center of the ring, turning the ever popular circle before coming together. Francis takes a step forward trying to get Orochi to commit to something but he just continues to pace the ring as calm as he can be. A fake lunge at the leg by Francis doesn’t even stun Orochi’s demeanor as he await some real action.

“And little shuck and jive from the Franchise doesn’t get a response from Orochi as he is as focused as in his Pay-Per-View win!” rails off Stevens trying to fill the void of no action.

Finally, Mak commits to a collar and elbow tie up and the two men collide together, jockeying for position! Orochi claims control of the contest and uses his slight size and strength advantage to hold Mak in an overhead wristlock. As Orochi presses on the wristlock, Francis uses his own momentum against him, yanking down, breaking the hold and transitioning into a side headlock! A few stops on the mat indicate that Francis is putting all his weight into this headlock, while Orochi reaches up and tries to pry his way out of the hold. Mak ends Orochi’s thoughts of countering by releasing the hold only to spin behind him and latch on with a back waist lock! You can feel the boredom on Riley’s face as he wants to get to the head dropping death and kicks of extreme pain but Stevens is fully into the amateur grappling.

“Mak, much like in his match with Ced, is attempting to take Orochi to the mat where his strikes are not effective… in particular those NASTY kicks to the head that he showed off during his title win against Tom Flesher.”

“Get it right MARK,” scoffs Riley. “Its NASTY kicks to the GODDAMN FACE~!”

“Whatever…”

Orochi pries at Mak’s fingers trying to find a counter as the self proclaimed Franchise tries to take the Lightbringer to the mat in a classic amateur go behind takedown – but Orochi finally succeeds in breaking the waist lock, before lifting Francis’s arm into the air and spinning into an arm wringer. The man who thinks he’s god now stands side by side with the Franchise and it’s easy to guess what comes next…

A stylish back hook kick to the MOUTH!!

“And Mak eats one right there!”

“The amateur style may be a good approach against most strikers but with Orochi’s technical background and balance from Martial Arts he can counter himself into nice offensive positions.” Cites Grand Slam. “And even though Francis being a counter puncher or wrestler in this case has an array of answers to most grappling situations-”

“A NASTY kick to the GODDAMN FACE is a NASTY kick to the GODDAMN FACE~!”

“Very eloquently put Bobby,” Is heard loud and clear. “…you dunce” while that parts was not so easy to hear since Mark mumbled it.

Orochi now in full control of the situation watches over Francis as he struggles to get up from that horrific kick! Just as the Franchise makes it to one knee the Lightbringer winds up and lays a second stiff kick to Mak’s head, which causes him to fall face first to the mat!! Orochi pauses for a moment and grins out at the crowd who have now got a small “Franchise” chant going. He stands over Francis whispering something that no one except the two wrestlers can hear and this causes Mak to push himself up from the floor and spit in his opponents’ general direction. The man once know as Thoth is completely indifferent to this turn of events as Francis leans against his legs attempting to regain his bearings. But that does not matter as he continuing to target the Franchise’s neck with clubbing forearms as he strugglers to get up!

“With the amount of focus that Orochi is showing Francis’s neck you know he’s looking to end this with that cradle piledriver he calls his Piercing Light!”

“Thoth might have flipped his wig but I’ll be damned if he isn’t a WHOLE lot cooler now that he’s a god!”

“Shut up Bobby,” replies Mark just before starting to call the action. “And Francis has been helped up to his feet by Orochi – Irish whip and Orochi with a back body drop… Francis floats over and scores with a Hangman’s neckbreaker!!” says Mark. “Francis going for the first pin fall of the match…”

“Nice Mak, I like seeing necks break… now all we need to do is find Edwin!”

And Matt Kivell slides into position for the count…

ONE

TW-

No. Only a long one count for the Franchise.

“And Francis can only get a one count on a Hangman’s neckbreaker! That’s a pretty high impact move to be kicking out of at one!”

“It’s like the guy doesn’t even feel it…” mumbles Riley. “that’s got to make Francis wonder just what he’ll have to pull out to get the three count.”

“An actual comment on the psychological advantage that Orochi may have because of this pin attempt…” “When did you start earning your pay check and stop doing the job for Stubby?”

“Huh? I’ve always put Stubby over in our matches… I never stopped doing the job!”

Mak, wanting to stay on the offensive, lifts the Lightbringer out and after two right hands sends him to the ropes with an Irish whip! Orochi hits the ropes fast and rebounds back with a little extra pop rushing under a Mak Francis back elbow and hitting the far ropes. Mak moves forward shorting his opponents return and sidesteps a quick attempt at a lariat before reaching out and dragging the man down in a Japanese arm bar takedown! He moves straight into a fujiwara arm bar, pulling at the joint before reaching back with his left arm and hooking on a single leg crab!

“It’s tequila time, Mark!”

“Nice fujiwara arm bar and with the addition of the single leg crab, he’s working Orochi’s leg, which will lessen the power of his strikes, while fatiguing him!” explain Stevens, but as he looks the scene over he notices something else. “But very poor ring positioning by Francis, whose normally better with stuff like that.”

Matt Kivell moves over to ask Orochi if he’ll submit to the hold but the Lightbringer is way to close to the ropes and easily gets his hand on the bottom cable.

“ONE” yells Kivell but Mak’s gonna get all he can out of this hold.

“TWO” shouts Kivell but it has no affect on the Franchise’s demeanor.

“THREE” he continues but nothings going to change.

“FOUR” he exclaims giving Mak one last warning.

“FIVE! GIMME A ROPE BREAK!” And Orochi starts to grin…

Mak release the hold and moves away as the referee tries to get Orochi a clean break…

“Francis once again using all of that count to his advantage and in a match like this I can ALMOST not fault him for doing it…”

“For once we agree Mark,” comments Riley. “Orochi’s definitely creeping me out now with that grin though.”

But as soon as the ref moves away, Francis is on the Lightbringer, who was trying to get the kinks out of his shoulder and leg, with forearms to the face! And since it worked before, the Franchise Irish whips Orochi to stay on the offensive – but Orochi scores a reversal on the whip and sends Mak careening! Surprised by this turn of events Francis is caught of guard as Orochi leaps into the air upon his return and hits a high leg lariat!! The Franchise hits the mat fast as the former Thoth gets up, his grin turned into a sick scowl. He goes for the cover and Kivell counts…

ONE

TWO

T-

No. He only just gets two as Francis kicks out.

“And Orochi with the first near fall of the match! Often the man with the first near fall gets a definite advantage as their opponent has to work progressively hard after each pin fall attempt to kick out.”

“Are you saying that just because I dropped a nugget of ring psych on the people Marky MARK?” Asks Riley. “You want my job too don’t you!!”

“I’m saying it because it’s my job and I definitely don’t ever want anything to do with any of your jobs Riley!”

The former Balancer picks Francis up by the scruff of his neck and whips him into the far corner like a rag doll! Mak was luckily able to brace himself and push himself up into the air as Orochi charges in from behind him jumping in knee first!! Francis lands behind the former Thoth and grips him in a back waist lock intending to drop him on his head – but the Lightbringer sees the light at just the right time enabling him to counter his second back waist lock of the match, blocking it by lacing his leg around the self proclaimed Franchise’s!! And as Francis tries to put him back down he slips down to the mat in a modified drop toe hold tripping Mak up and sending him face first into the second turnbuckle pad!!

“And Orochi again shows us his technical ability with a counter out of what was sure to be a filthy German suplex!”

“But for some reason I just don’t think he’s done…” adds Bobby as Orochi backs away.

“Orochi, rushing in… getting a FULL head of steam…” starts Mark as Orochi literally implants Mak’s face into the second buckle! “And there’s that high knee to the head!” finish Stevens in a semi cringe. “While Thoth’s completely changed in attitude he still uses the same moves… only with MUCH more impact!”

Mak slumps against the turnbuckle as the former Thoth raises his hands to let everyone feel his love. And of course that gains a nice healthy amount of boos. The crowd starts another “Franchise” chant as Mak gets up out of the corner on shaky legs and falls into the awaiting arm of Orochi, who once again quickly squashes the pro-Francis sentiment by snapmaring him into the center of the ring!

“And we’ve seen this one plenty of times too Bobby…”

Mak sits up in a daze, blinking as the Lightbringer lunges off the ropes and rockets his knee into the back of the Franchise’s head!!!

“Booyah, that’s one trip to the hospital to meet with Ced in the concussion ward!”

“I though he was freaking you out Riley. How can you quip at an attack like that?!”

“As long as he ain’t grinnin’ I’m in his corner.”

“How nice…”

Orochi take his time using a lateral press to cover as Kivell gets into position…

ONE

TWO

T

H

R-

No. Francis gets a shoulder up!

The former Balancer gets up and then he whispers for the second time in the match so that only he and Mak can hear. And Francis once again spits in his general direction! Orochi picks Francis up and sends him to the ropes in another Irish whip - but Mak reverses and suddenly short arms it, lifting him into the air and depositing his neck on the top cable!!

“A Hot shot counter stuns him and Francis is back in the game!”

Mak gets behind the gagging man and grabs his arm locking in a standing Half nelson…

“If this is what I think it is Orochi’s in trouble now Mark!!”

Mak quickly loops the second arm to get the full nelson snitched in for Chris Wilson’s Platinum Nightmare~! – but Orochi, now aware of his predicament, growls in anger at the mere thought of having to take the Full nelson forward Russian leg sweep from Francis like he did in there first encounter!! The crowd pops like crazy seeing the move be set up but Orochi yanks Mak’s arms down and since he’s stronger than Francis, breaks the Full nelson before scoring with the same modified drop toe hold that tripped Mak up and sent him face first into the second turnbuckle pad!!

“Francis, having never seen this counter just does not have any form of an answer to it.”

Francis gets canvas and the former Thoth floats over top in a textbook manor ending Francis’s run and snitching in a front chancery! The crowd sighs in defeat as Francis fights to get off the canvas.

“At first it was Francis’s game plan to wear down his opponent and keep him on the mat but Orochi has thus far been superior to Mak on the canvas!”

“Hey, what did I tell you about using superior without Tom in the ring or on the stick?!”

And Mark just no sells that comment. “But check it out Bobby, Mak Francis will not stay down! He raps both arms around Orochi’s waist and I think he’s going for a northern lights suplex! – but Orochi COUNTERS hooking BOTH HIS ARMS!!”

“Head drop~! number one.” Says Riley as the Orochi SPIKES the self proclaimed Franchise on his head, hitting the DDT while Francis’s body was perpendicular to the mat!!! Kivell slides into position…

ONE

TWO

T

H

R

E-

No! Francis gets a shoulder up just after two and half!

A little worn down from all the countering Orochi opts to place Mak in a kneeling head twist brutalizing the neck and giving him time to catch his breath.

“Smart move by the new ICTV champ here.” Mentions Riley. “Torquing the neck of Francis while getting a short breather and it sets up that Piercing…” And then he just goes off on a tangent. “…nipple piercing…”

“You mean Piercing Light correct Bobby?” Asks Stevens afraid to know the answer.

“Um… yeah that is it!” responses a shifty eyed Riley.

As Orochi cranks back on the neck again the fans start to stomp their feet and clap their hands as a slow “Franchise” chants begins! Francis begins to get up as the crowd gets louder with every “Franchise” chanted!! Suddenly Mak’s to his feet and scores a elbow to the gut. Then another one that final break the hold!! Francis executes a standing switch and looks to hit a German suplex – but Orochi goes to his trusted counter – but Mak staves off the drop toe hold by planting a forearm deep into the kidney of his opponent!!! Orochi gasps for a quick breath and that’s all the time Francis needs to toss him head over heels in the air and onto the canvas with a FILTHY GERMAN SUPLEX~!

“OH MY GAWD WHATTASUPLEX!!” shills Mark and of course Riley’s going to call him on it.

“Geez, take a chill pill Grand Shill!” but he loves head dropping death so he adds his shill. “Now that’s a Franchisable move Bobby!”

Francis lies on the mat as the fans cheer willing him on as he stares up at the lights. He focuses all his energy and rolls over onto his belly crawling towards Orochi. He slowly but surely makes his way there and gets a arm across his chest as Kivell counts…

ONE!

TWO!

T-

“WHAT THE HELL!!!” shouts Stevens. “He barely got a TWO COUNT?!”

An indeed it is true as Orochi has kicked out!

“Now that’s scary Mark…”

“I guess it could be because he took so long to get the cover but barely a TWO COUNT…”

The crowd is stunned as Francis just stares at Orochi, unbelieving. He may not have thought the match was over but he damn sure thought it be a close count! The Lightbringer, starts to rise to his feet and Francis at a loss for words just tries to go with the flow! He moves over to the man and places him in a standing head scissors before lifting him up into the air an into a Canadian backbreaker rack!! – but Orochi slides through at the top and lands!!! After that he fires off a quick kick to the head!! Mak takes the shot and winds up hitting a knife edge chop!! The former Thoth pretty much ends the contest with a

right hand to face, not wanting to deal with it and then swings away with another right – only to have it caught by Francis!!!

The Franchise pulls the arm over his shoulder and crashes it down over the hard bone… and then again… and then AGAIN… before rotating him around into a dragon sleeper!!! Francis struggles to hook his leg with Orochi’s…

“He’s trying to make Orochi pay Tribute!!!”

But the Lightbringer counters twisting out of the sleeper and kicking Mak in the gut! Francis doubles over in pain as Orochi brings him into the standing head scissors!!!

“This don’t look good for the Franchise folks…” says a grim Mark Stevens. “We saw just what this move could do when he used it against CIA!”

”Mak’s [beep]-ed” adds Riley forgetting they’re not at a Pay Per View.

And again Orochi stalls a brief second saying something to Mak before

hel ifts him into the air from the standing headscissors and drapes him across his own shoulder intending to show him Piercing Light – but Francis wriggles free and slides down HIS back, turning around, grabbing his right arm before sweeping Orochi’s legs from underneath him!! The self proclaimed Franchise falls down to the mat wrenching away at the semi extended right arm and shoulder in a cross arm breaker!!! The second move he was able to defeat Orochi with!!! The Lightbringer struggles against the pit bull like Francis as he tries to keep his arm safe, the pain making him forget about raising his shoulders!! Kivell drops down from asking for a submission and counts…

ONE!

TWO!

T

H

R-

No! Orochi gets his shoulders up at two and a half!

As he continues to fight off the cross arm breaker, Mak suddenly gets a power surge and almost extends it causing Orochi to fall back to the mat. Kivell counts…

ONE!

TWO-

But Orochi suddenly sees a counter and quite frankly just flicks over and roll through, grabbing at Francis’s tights. Kivell only sees Francis’s shoulders on the mat in this modified schoolboy and makes the count…

ONE!

TWO!

T

H

R

E

E-

NO! Francis lets go of the submission and pushes out at the last second!!

“Wow! Francis just and I mean JUST got a shoulder up!”

Francis gets up to his feet and pulls Orochi up by the arm before Irish whipping him into the corner!

“Can Francis end it here!”

Francis rushes in for the Yakuza kick with bad intentions for the back of Orochi’s head when he sees the object of his aggression fly overhead using the turnbuckle as a crutch to push himself up into the air!!! There’s no way Francis can stop in time as his leg catches on top of the highest buckle and stays there effectively ending his little run. The crowd quiets… as Orochi comes up behind the Franchise and grabs his right arm hooking it into a half nelson…

And the crowd feels sympathetic as he hooks the other arm…

“He going to put Francis down with the Platinum Nightmare and probably make him tap out to the Finishing touches!”

And Orochi speak to Francis, this time loud enough for Stevens to hear. "Ced felt my light, Tom felt it as well... Mak won't you please come into the light..."

"That guy is just sick..." is the only comment Stevens has.

The crowd just stares as they all know what’s coming next…

Mak Francis breaking the Full Nelson!!!

And as he pulls the self proclaimed Franchise latches his right arm around Orochi’s pinning it to his own body. Orochi attempts to break free but Francis has already turned perpendicular to him securing the limb!! Francis juts his free left arm in between Orochi’s legs and rolls to his right…

…

PINNING THE LIGHTBRINGER’S BACK TO THE MAT!!!

Riley’s stunned…

Stevens tries to remember what the name of that move is…

And Orochi…

Orochi looks shocked as Mak hooks his leg and releases his right arm before cradling his head and clasping his two hands together completing the pin!!! He looks to Kivell, who looks like a deer caught in the headlights before he realizes that he should count, which he does after diving across the mat into position…

ONE!

TWO!

T

H

R

E

E!

DING! DING! DING!

“The winner of this match by pin fall… “THE FRANCHISE” MAAAK FRAAAANCISsssssssss!”

“What the hell was that Mark?”

“I’ve seen that counter before in amateur wrestling… I’m sure of it!” Stevens continues to ponders as Francis rises up to one knee to get his hand raised. “What a desperation counter!”

“Well it was Franchisable, that’s for sure!”

And then it hits him. “If I remember correctly it’s called a Peterson roll, or something similar… but basically it’s a swank roll up for a tricky situation! That’s about as technical as I can get on it…”

“It certainly got the job done here tonight as Mak Francis gets another surprising upset over Orochi!”

“Yeah, and boy I can’t wait for the Main Event after a match like this one! The Mag 7 versus the Carnie for the tag team straps! Coming up next!”

December 7, 2002

SWF Storm fades in after a commercial for Trojan Condoms featuring Amy Craven ("Um... guys, do you REALLY want an eight-month pregnant ringrat doing this ad? You do? Wonderful.") and scans the Bradley Center in Milwaukee. The camera catches fans holding up signs such as "ELM > HVT," "CIA > M7" and "* > TMF." Riley murmurs, "They're getting SO lazy," as the shot continues to pan. Finally the camera swings down to "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley at the announce table.

"Ladies and gentlemen," says Stevens, "welcome back to SWF Storm! Already tonight, we've seen some unforgettable action, including the triumphant return of both Stryke AND Bayawolf!"

"Not to mention the Magnificent Seven's newest member, Judge Mental, making his SWF debut by putting on an impressive showing against Nathan Kibagami."

"Indeed. However, it’s time for our main event. Tonight, the Tag Team Champions-"

"The Frostbitten Flesh," interjects Riley.

"I was just going to go with Chilly Chilly Fag Fag," deadpans Stevens. "Regardless, they're defending their titles against the two founding members of this incarnation of the Midnight Carnival, the International Carnival, El Luchadore Magnifico and the Canadian Intelligence Agent. Frost is the SWF's resident tag-team specialist and Flesher is clearly a complement to Frost's brutish style, but in the end I have to give the nod to the flawless teamwork and near-telepathic communication of the International Carnival."

"That," replies Riley, "is where you show that if brains were snow you'd be Tanzania, whereas I am some bastard cross of Buffalo and Iceland. Clearly, Frost's ability to destroy CIA-"

"Bobby, CIA defeated Frost cleanly on the pay-per-view."

"Well then, Tom Flesher's continuing dominance-"

"Passed out in Orochi's figure four."

Riley pauses to think for a moment and then gives a fake smile to the camera. "All that and more, fans! Now let's go to Funyon!"

Funyon announces, "Ladies and gentlemen, it is time for our MAIN EVENT! The following Tag Team Title contest will be a TORNADO match!" He pauses to allow for a cheap pop before continuing. "The challengers..."

The arena lights dim as a soft female voice whispers, "Midnight Carnival..." The Red Hot Chili Peppers' "Love Rollercoaster" begins with the SmarkTron blazing white in rhythm with the beat of the song, thin letters spelling "STEP RIGHT UP" appearing with each flash. As the guitar part drops in, three blue laser lights trace the arena from the middle of the entrance ramp. The words "ROLLERCOASTER... OF LOVE" echo through the arena for the first time and the lasers flare out into a blue haze as CIA and El Luchadore Magnifico step out from behind the curtain, clad in their Mexican and Canadian flag trenches.

The crowd, simply put, explodes!

The lights abruptly go out as the refrain begins and is then supplanted by purple strobes and blue lasers that illuminate the Carnies. CIA and Magnifico make their way to the ring as the crowd cheers.

"Making their way to the ring at a total combined weight of 430 pounds, the Canadian Intelligence Agent... El Luchadore Magnifico... the MID... NIGHT... CARNIVAL!!!!!!"

The crowd pops crazy as CIA and ELM climb the stairs and make their way into the ring. Magnifico unfastens his trench to reveal the SWF World Championship around his waist, prompting yet another pop from the crowd. Each man sets his coat in the corner, then turns his attention to the entranceway.

"And their opponents..."

"HERE WE ARE... BORN TO BE KINGS... WE'RE THE PRINCES OF THE U-NI-VERSE...."

The fans boo as Stevens mutters, "This is the most annoying song ever." The lights go down and gold pyo explodes throughout the arena as Tom Flesher steps through the curtain, followed by his second-in-command, Frost. Both men stride confidently to the ring, Tag Team Title belts slung over their shoulders and giant cigars in their mouths. They ignore most of the comments, but more belligerent fans are silenced by a menacing glare from the Polar Bear. Finally, the fans begin a chant of "BIG BROWN DICK! BIG BROWN DICK!" in reference to Frost Brand Cigars ("Bigger than the average cigar. Why? Because it will kill you faster.")

Riley: "You know, Mark, that's not fair. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar."

Stevens: "And sometimes it's much more. Right, Bobby?"

Riley: "You're just saying that because of my walk-in humidor."

Stevens: "Oh, is THAT what they're calling it these days?"

Frost and Flesher grind out their cigars on the ring post before entering the squared circle.

"Currently in the ring” Funyon booms, “at a total combined weight of 509 pounds, the SWF Tag Team Champions, 'The Superior One' Tom Flesher... 'The Velvet Hammer' Frost... the MAGNIFICENT SEVEN!!!!!"

The fans boo loudly as pyro explodes from each corner post. Flesher and Frost hand their titles over to referee Sexton Hardcastle and, after Flesher strips off his warm-up suit, Hardcastle signals for the bell.

DING DING DING!!!!!!!

As soon as the bell rings, Frost charges toward El Luchadore Magnifico and Flesher makes a run for CIA. Frost immediately begins hammering the World Champion with forearm blows as CIA catches Flesher and continues his momentum into an Irish whip. As Flesher rebounds, CIA quickly pivots and catches him in the jaw with a spinning back elbow! Flesher collapses to the mat as Frost finishes his assault on Magnifico with a spinning back fist, sending him staggering to the ropes! Frost and CIA each turn abruptly toward the each other and immediately freeze in their fighting positions as the crowd goes wild!

Stevens: "Frost just decimated the World Champion with his striking and power, as the Kooky Canadian catches Tom Flesher off-guard and sends him crumbling to the mat, leaving the two who competed in a Straitjacket Match at Ashes To Ashes this past Sunday. I think we all know the outcome of that match, do we not, Bobby?"

Riley: "Gah! Don't remind me! I've seen enough Teletubbies to last me a lifetime!"

Stevens: "With that win, CIA won the right to compete for the SWF Tag Team Titles with a partner of his choice and here we are."

Frost and CIA leave their stance, moving toward each other slowly. Frost grabs CIA in a collar-and-elbow tie up, but gruffly shoves him away. In the background, Flesher gets to his feet and Frost again seizes the Canadian in a collar-and-elbow. Again, he shoves CIA back... straight into a German suplex from Tom Flesher! CIA hits the mat hard and Flesher allows him to roll through as the Icelandic giant moves toward the ropes and grabs Magnifico.

Riley: "It's interesting to note that in this match we have a Scandinavian-American, an Illegal-American and an Alcoholic-American. Tom Flesher, the Superior-American, is the only natural citizen of this great nation in the ring."

Stevens: "What are you, Archie Bunker?"

Riley: "Hey, all I'm saying is that CIA and Mags should go back to Canada and Mexico."

Stevens: "Why not Frost?"

Riley: "Because he's not FROM Canada or Mexico? HELLO?"

Frost grabs Magnifico by the arm and whips him to the ropes as Flesher snags CIA and sends him into the corner. He follows CIA in with a running palm strike, stunning the man and leaves him in the corner. Meanwhile, ELM bounces off the ropes and ducks Frost's Hell Freezes Over lariat! He continues running, rebounds off the ropes and leaps! He claps his legs around Frost's neck, shifts his weight and sends the giant to the mat with a flying headscissors takedown! The crowd bursts into applause as Magnifico jumps to his feet, then leaps into the air, somersaults and dives onto Frost with a quick and dirty senton! The crowd continues cheering for the high-flyer as he covers for

ONE!

WHOOSH! Frost kicks out by sending Magnifico into the air, throwing him nearly five feet toward the ropes! In the meantime, Flesher and CIA are exchanging blows in the corner. CIA, a bit off-kilter from the running shotei, throws a quick elbow strike, which Flesher ducks. Tom comes up and spins, going for a roaring shotei, but the crazy Canuck dodges! Flesher over rotates and CIA takes advantage by clapping him on the back of the head with an elbow. He then locks his hands around Flesher's waist, steps around and sends him crashing to the mat with a release German suplex! Flesher lands stiffly on the back of his neck, but rolls through to his stomach! After a moment, Flesher pushes himself up and gets to his feet! Still clearly stunned, he staggers forward, throwing a phantom lariat at nothing in particular before falling to his stomach. Frost pushes himself up and, as CIA makes his move toward Flesher, the Scandinavian Skullcrusher charges with a powerful football tackle! CIA crashes to the mat and Frost mounts him to pound home hard forearm blows.

Stevens: "CIA takes Tom Flesher out, but his only reward is a grounding and pounding from Frost! Clearly, Frost isn't happy about his loss at Ashes To Ashes. Mind you, Frost has yet to record an SWF win over the Canadian Intelligence Agent."

Riley: "Well sure, on PAPER he doesn't have a win, but look at him! It's only a matter of time! And he did beat him in the JL."

Stevens: “Well, T-Bone beat Frost in the JL, you think we should give him a World Title shot?”

Frost continues his assault on the junior Carnival member, oblivious to the fact that Magnifico has made his feet and silently climbed the closest turnbuckle. He dives off quickly before Frost sees him coming. Magnifico plants both his feet into Frost's back, ending his beating of CIA! With that, the groggy Flesher rolls to the floor, trying to avoid ELM's wrath. Magnifico sees him and leaves Frost to hit the opposite ropes! Flesher sees him coming and braces for impact, but Magnifico opts not to leap over the top rope. Instead, he springs off the bottom rope, grabs hold of the top and swings his legs out to dropkick Flesher in the face! Flesher staggers backwards and Magnifico shouts at CIA to get in position. CIA stuns Frost with a swift elbow smash to keep him down. CIA then slides into position as Magnifico rebounds. The Luchadore runs toward CIA, who bends down, then shoots him over the top with a back body drop!

Stevens: "Magnifico's crossing the border from Toronto to Tijuana!"

Riley: "WAIT! Flesher's going to catch him!"

Flesher looks up, stretching his arms out to catch Magnifico. He waits for ELM....

waits for him...

ready to catch him...

then sidesteps at the very last moment, leaning on the ring apron and smirking as the World Champion crashes to the concrete! Flesher stares down, still grinning, and golf claps for himself as he sees Magnifico in a heap. Before he knows what's happening, CIA spins around to see the whole debacle and boots Flesher stiffly in the back of the head! Flesher staggers and another boot sends him crashing to the concrete! CIA grins briefly, but not for long. Frost lumbers up from behind and socks the Canadian with a solid right hand! As he turns confused, Frost grabs him in a front chancery and lifts him up for a vertical suplex. He stalls... stalls... continues stalling... stalls a little more....

Stevens: "That's GOT to be disorienting! All the blood is rushing to CIA's head and he was already dazed by that sucker punch."

Riley: "Geez, Mark, tell us something we don't know."

Stevens: "Well, for one, my esteemed broadcast colleague actually spent the night with a WOMAN last night for the first time in anyone's memory."

Riley: "Really? Hardy got laid, too?"

After twenty seconds of stalling, Frost finally leans forward, bouncing CIA's legs off of the top rope and catapulting him backwards! The slingshot suplex sends CIA crashing to the mat, clearly out of it. Frost follows with the only logical maneuver: he grabs Canadian Tire's favorite former Employee Of The Month, lifts him to slap on a bearhug. As the fans boo, Frost's massive arms strain with every vein showing as he works to squeeze the life out of his Canadian adversary.

Stevens: “Frost smartly attempts to slow this wild brawl down with a bearhug on CIA.”

Riley: “That’s not a wear down hold, that’s a ‘I’m gonna’ pop your eyes out of your stinking skull’ move.”

A small pop riffles the crowd as the battered World Champion tows himself to the apron. He gives his head a firm shake to dust the cobwebs and appraises the situation before him. With Frost’s back to him, ELM steps to the bottom ring rope, jumps to the top strand and then flies off to collar the big man around the head!

Stevens: “Springboard bulldog by Magnifico! Frost awkwardly to the mat while the champ skids to the outside.”

Riley: “Some move, he got his own partner squashed when Frost went down. All that selfish Mexican wants to do is look cool and pop the crowd. He hung around MacPhisto for too long.”

Frost rolls over on his back, out of it with CIA lying beside him. ELM reappears on the apron and once more uses the bottom rope to propel himself to the top cord, but now he tumbles head over heels in midair to crash a senton leg drop into the Icelander’s chest! He scrambles to cover.

ONE

TWO

THRE-

Stevens: “FLESHER MAKES THE SAVE OUT OF NOWHERE!”

The former ICTV titleholder glides into frame with an elbow to the back of ELM’s neck and they roll off of Frost to the canvas.

Riley: “A perfectly legal move in this tornado tag. Although I’ve never seen the Mag 7 ever use an illegal tactic in my life.”

Stevens: “I think it might be time you switch to trifocals then.”

Flesher pulls the Luchadore up by his stringy hair and tucks him in a front facelock. He lifts him into a vertical position by a handful of tights and stumbles into the center of the ring, trying to gain his footing. Those seconds allow CIA to make his feet and he shoots out his leg in a super kick! As Tom trips from the blow, ELM drops out of the suplex and repositions his trailing arm over Tom’s neck in an inverted facelock and rides the super kick’s force back into an inverted DDT!

Stevens: “The Midnight Carnival is working like a fine Swiss watch as they turn their attentions to Frost.”

Riley: “More like a knockoff Rolox from Tijuana.”

The faces bring the wobbly giant to his feet and whip him into the far ropes. They both turn as he runs toward them and pop him in the mush with an elbow apiece. He crashes down and CIA follows by lifting his light partner in a guerrilla press. He holds Mag aloft for an instant and then tosses him into the air with a twist like a pizza chef. ELM pivots as he descends and splashes onto Frost! CIA leans across the ropes and points down at Hardcastle for the fans to count along with the ref.

ONE

TWO

THRE-

Stevens: “SHOULDER UP! Frost barely got that up.”

Riley: “Frost never gets anything ‘barely up’ from what Sydney Sky told me.”

Frost rolls to his side as ELM stands and waves for CIA to come over. They haul the Iceman up by his shoulders and throw an arm over each of their necks while cinching his trunks with their free hands. The pair bends their knees for all the strength and leverage they can muster to lift Frost, but only get him a few feet off the mat.

Riley: “Go eat your Wheaties and come back.”

They steel themselves with a deep breath and hoist him again, getting his legs nearly horizontal with the canvas. Frost shifts his weight to retake his feet and gets his own fistful of tights to lift his adversaries vertical with the mat! The Carnies hang onto Frost’s neck for dear life as he leans rearwards and allows gravity to do the rest!

Stevens: “Incredible feat of strength as Frost suplexes both men out of an attempted double suplex on him.”

Riley: (singing) “I am Frost the Icelandic Hossman, I am Frost the Icelandic Hossman…”

Frost twists up to his knees and eyeballs both of his fallen opponents before covering Magnifico.

ONE

TWO

THRE-

Stevens: “FLESHER PULLED FROST OFF!”

Frost rockets to his feet and stares at his leader with nostrils flaring. The still shook up Flesher points down at Magnifico while berating Frost in harsh tones and then jabs a thumb to his chest.

Riley: “It looks like Flesher is indicating that he wants to pin ELM. The Superior One has firmly stated that he’s on the King’s Road and a pinfall victory over the World Champion would certainly help to cement his path.”

Frost yells back and points down at the Luchadore and then jabs a thumb into his chest to signify that the pin should be rightfully his. The delighted fans chant “CRY-BABIES, CRY-BABIES!”

Stevens: “That’s also a road that Frost fancies himself, seeing that he already holds one pinfall victory over Magnifico and another could grant him the title shot he feels CIA unfairly stole from him by besting him on the November 8th Storm.”

The Intelligence Agent helps his fallen friend up while the two heels are distracted. He shoots his buddy a wry smile and Magnifico gleefully exchanges one of his own. They begin to boogie with an old school pop and lock routine and then tip their arms to guzzle an imaginary bottle of beer.

Stevens: “Haha! The Carnival is taking advantage of the unrest in the Mag 7 contingent to do CIA’s classic ‘Dance, Drink and Drop’ routine with only one part left.”

Riley: “I wish they’d drop, drop dead.”

The audiences’ laughter snap the heels out of their Mexican standoff and they refocus on their opponents, a little too late.

Stevens: “BIONIC ELBOW!”

CIA nails Frost, while ELM takes out Flesher with the capper to the agent’s bit of shtick. The duo bounces into the ropes off the shot and stumble dazed back off. The Mexi-Can Connection jump up to catch them with perfect tandem dropkicks and the tag champs fly to the outside!

Stevens: “The Mag 7 boys kiss the floor and need to regroup, but it doesn’t look like they’ll have that luxury.”

The heels help each other up in a vain attempt to get back on the same page. CIA baseball slides under the bottom rope to catch Frost in the chest and while Magnifico soars over his partner with a pescado onto Tom Flesher. Tom attempts to catch ELM for real as he doesn’t have the time or strength to move, but takes the full force of the mighty Mexican and clangs into the guardrail! Both faces ratchet their chosen men up and proceed to clubberin’.

Stevens: “The Carnies are in control and only gathering steam as they put the fists to the team that one would think to be the ‘superior’ brawlers. I would say a title change is imminent.”

Riley: “This from the man who bet on the Angels to win the World Series.”

Stevens: “But they did win.”

Riley: “Pfft…maybe in your little fantasy world.”

Mark’s observation proves to be a bad omen, as Flesher and Frost slug back. Frost levels CIA with soup bone rights while the never punching Tom uses palm strikes to stun ELM.

Riley: “Once again, Mark you speak too soon, like when you said the Rams would not comeback to win the Super Bowl.”

Stevens: “But they didn’t.”

Riley: “Whoa there Smokey McTokesalot I think Stubby better double check his stash to makes sure it’s all there.”

Tom makes eye contact with his right hand man and nods as they exchange an unspoken command. Frost snags CIA by the wrist to whip across the length of floor at the same moment Flesher does the same with the Luchadore. The partners charge at each other, but CIA stops short and bends over as ELM nears him. Magnifico runs through the Irish whip and hops up on the agent’s back! He crashes into Frost with a springboard dropkick and both hit the floor! Before the Canadian can rise up, Flesher punts him square in the face with his heavy soled Doc Marten! CIA’s head thrusts back with a grotesque look on his mug and he plunges to one knee.

Stevens: “Although this is a tornado tag, regular dq and count out rules are in effect, but referee Sexton Hardcastle is allowing the two teams to brawl on the outside.”

Riley: “Hardcastle is confused when he’s in a city where Jeopardy comes on at 7:30 instead of 7 p.m.”

Stevens: “Perhaps he just realizes the boiling animosity between the two stables involved and wants to see this match with a clear cut finish like all the fans’ in attendance.”

Flesher brings CIA up fully with a front facelock and a grip on his pants. With a deep breath and a snap, he pulls the Carnie up vertical with the floor and drives him like a drill into the earth!

Stevens: “Good God! A brainbuster on the floor! That could have telescoped CIA’s spine right into his skull.”

Riley: “We should be so fortunate.”

ELM unties himself from the mass of Frost’s mangled limbs and scampers toward Tom as he rises. The Buffalo native spots the Mexican just in time and falls down to allow Mag to sail over his head on a missed spear into the guardrail behind him!

Stevens: “Magnifico takes that metal safeguard right to the shoulder after trying to surprise Flesher with a quick spear.”

Riley: “Not too safe of a guard is it? Magnifco might have speed on his side, but no one can out race Flesher’s rapid mind and ring vision.”

The Superior One flips to his stomach and pushes himself up by his hands. ELM painfully climbs up, obviously favoring that damaged shoulder. Flesher thrusts a palm into the damaged shoulder blade. Magnifico rocks into the rail with a shimmery clang and Tom twirls around with a spinning back elbow to keep him dazed. He now stands to the side of his adversary and wraps him around the waist while tucking his head under that sore left shoulder.

Stevens: “The Superior One carries El Luchardore Magnifico up the ring steps in the backdrop driver position. I’m getting the sense here, Bobby, that retaining the tag straps is secondary to inflicting punishment on their hated rivals.”

Riley: “Over ten minutes in and you finally figure this out.”

Flesher reaches the apron and stands to face the crowd. They hiss at him, but he returns the jeers with a wistful smile as if he were receiving heart-wrenching salutations. His serene appearance breaks as his mouth twists into a scowl and he bends over the ropes to drop the World Champ directly on his head!

Stevens: “BACKDROP DRIVER OVER THE ROPES!”

Riley: “It will be sweet when CIA and ELM can get matching head bandages in the emergency room.”

Stevens: “Tom Flesher isn’t through yet, he’s heading for the top turnbuckle to put the coup de gras on this match.”

Riley: “What does goose liver have to do with anything?”

ELM flipped as he landed and lays face down half way across the ring from the upper right corner. Covered with sweat and body aching, Flesher steadies himself for a second before launching from on high. He spreads his body out with his arms to his side, an Olympic caliber athlete swan diving into a pool. Yet, this human pool provides no soft landing as Flesher makes hammering contact to the base of Magnifico’s skull!

Stevens: “THAT’S SICK! Flesher just performed a diving headbutt to the BACK of ELM’s head. A move like that could cause a spinal cord injury and permanent paralysis!”

Riley: “It could also mash Flesher’s superior good looks.”

Tom rolls over on ELM’s back with his head swiveling like a desk short a few ball bearings. He shakes his dizzy mind coherent and pushes Magnifico over for the cover.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE-

Stevens: “FROST PULLS TOM OUT OF THE RING!”

The Velvet Hammer drags his partner to the floor by the ankle where he lands on his feet face to face with his supposed lieutenant. Frost gives Flesher the iciest of glares and jabs his fingers in the man’s chest. The near camera picks him up saying, “Now we’re even.” Tom swats the hand away and pulls himself to his full height with his chest swelling. Frost lowers his head and the two touch foreheads, locked eyeball to eyeball.

Stevens: “We saw a few weeks ago that Frost was in disagreement about the Superior One offering an alliance to Ordonez and Francis. Now, they are in dispute over who should pin the World champion. I don’t want to make any hasty speculations…”

Riley: “Then don’t. The Magnificent 7 is stronger than it’s ever been. Except maybe when they actually had seven people in it.”

The tension in the air is thicker than any proverbial knife can cut, when…

Stevens: “CIA WITH A FLYING FOREARM!”

The almost forgotten Intelligence Agent makes his presence felt as he knocks Flesher into Frost from behind! Both men stumble and smash into the ring steps! The fans scream loudly for the masked marvel who raises his arms victoriously. Hardcastle finally sticks his head between the ropes and yells at him to move it in the ring. Frost slings Flesher off of him and charges with a lariat. CIA ducks and twists around Frost to give him a high knee in the back to keep him running…straight into the far ring post!

Stevens: “We’ll never know what the final outcome of the Frost vs. Flesher standoff might have been as CIA is on the war path.”

Riley: “But so is the Superior One!”

Tom catches CIA from behind with a gutwrench maneuver and deftly twists him upside down and out to the side. CIA struggles, but Flesher has him snug and piledrives his head first into the floor!

Riley: “EGO BUSTER TO THE CONCRETE!”

Stevens: “That is the second stiff shot CIA has taken to his head and neck on the outside! Flesher is rolling him in the ring and covers!”

ONE!

TWO!

THREE-

Stevens: “MAGNIFICO SAVES!”

The fans’ hearts catch in the their throats as ELM drops an axehandle to the back of Flesher to break! The two men exhaustedly clamber up and Flesher grabs Magnifico by the wrist and whips him to the ropes out of instinct more than anything. ELM ducks under a lazy Flesher clothesline, gathering steam. He runs up the opposite set of ropes to the second cord and somersaults off backwards with natural agility and precision. He twists in mid-flight to collar a dumbstruck Flesher as he floats past and maneuvers his chin on his neck!

SLAM!

Stevens: “THE SOUTH AMERICAN STUNNER! Flesher is out, but ELM isn’t finished!”

Magnifico points to the top turnbuckle as he runs to it and climbs. He makes it up top in the blink of the eye and lines up Tom in the ring.

Riley: “This can’t end on the Mexican Pride Press!”

Mag bends his knees for leverage and the fan noise swells in anticipation. He readies for takeoff and…

Stevens: “FROST IS ON THE APRON!”

The behemoth climbs up the turnbuckles from the outside and jams his head through Mag’s legs to a chorus of boos. ELM looks down startled, but braces himself as he feels his body hurtling back. Frost bucks him off his shoulders with a mighty shake and Magnifico takes the Nestea Plunge to the outside with a wet splat!

Riley: “Thank God for resilient hosses!”

Frost turns to face the spread eagle form of the Luchadore on the floor and skips off the apron to land with both of his tree trunk legs on ELM’s chest!

Stevens: “A DOUBLE STOMP OFF THE APRON! FROST CONTINUES POUNDING MAGNIFICO ON THE OUTSIDE, BUT BOTH MEN ARE STRUGGLING UP ON THE INSIDE!”

The camera finds CIA and Flesher bobbing on their feet like homeless winos. The masked man is the little more worst for wear, but throws a wild right hand. Tom ducks and allows the agent to swing back around. He locks in a full nelson and grapevines the near leg to sweep him face first to the canvas!

Stevens: “THE JOKER’S WILD! The finisher of Flesher’s idol the Suicide King. He transitions into the Superior Stretch Beta as he is know to do out of that move.”

Flesher ratchets down the pressure with his arm snaked across CIA’s throat on the back mounted Dragon Sleeper. A hard move to fight out of in regular circumstances, it’s almost impossible with the punishment the Canadian has taken. He struggles for air, his breathing erratic and the added weight of the Flesher on his back not helping matters. Hardcastle kneels in front and begs CIA to give up and, on the edge of consciousness; he does by slapping the mat!

DING DING DING

Funyon: “Here are your winners by submission and STILL SWF Tag Team Champions, Tom Flesher and Frrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrost!”

Stevens: “It was obvious that both men wanted the pin on ELM, but in the end, they were lucky to get out of here with the belts still around their waists and had to take any win they could.”

Riley: “CIA is the weak link on the team, considering his partner is a midget. Oh boy, they’re not done yet.”

Frost tosses Magnifico into the ring and slides in after him. His hair is matted with blood and his face bears stray smears of red from a gash on the top of his skull. Flesher kicks the comatose CIA to the floor and then pushes Hardcastle down with one hand as he begs Tom takeoff. Frost takes his feet and points an open palmed hand down at ELM.

Stevens: “It’s like Frost is making some sort of sacrificial offering to Flesher.”

Riley: “To make up for his insubordination earlier. Frost can be a great general, but he’s also a good foot soldier.”

Flesher flashes Frost a wide smile and spreads his arms at the slaughtered kill. He bows slightly to tell Frost that it’s all his. Frost leans down and dead lifts Magnifico up against his chest into the powerbomb position. He respectfully nods to Tom, who feigns mock humbleness. He then spins around to take the back of ELM’s head on his shoulder. The two men hop in the air and wham Magnifico down in perfect synch!

Stevens: “The tag champs with a powerbomb/neckbreaker combo! CIA is in no shape to help his stablemate and Magnifico is in no shape to help himself.”

Riley: “Listen to that beautiful music of the humanoids jeering their brains out and winging garbage through the still night air.”

Stevens: “They’re lining him up for another one…wait…someone’s running down the ramp!”

Riley: “Fast as he ever runs!”

A roar rifles through the audience as a stocky figure lumbers down the ramp with an assured pace and a chair in his hand. Tom and Frost drop ELM and can’t believe their eyes at the sight of…

Stevens: “THE HVILLE THUGG!”

Riley: “He’s not supposed to be here! Who let him in?”

Stevens: “Are you going to tell a 7’2’’ 386 pound black man that he can’t go where he wants to?”

Frost plants himself firm in the ring, readying for the only man in the SWF bigger than him. Tom whispers unheard orders in his ear, but is cutoff as a chair comes swinging dangerously close to their heads as the giant grappler Diesels over the ropes from the apron!

Stevens: “The tag champs scatter to the floor with HVT holding court and the audience exploding!”

Frost wants to get back in the ring, but the saner strategy of Flesher tells his giant to fight another day. Frost gives CIA a swift kick in the ribs as he lies on the floor and the two men back up the ramp. HVT waves them to bring it on and then kneels down to check on the unconscious Magnifico.

Stevens: “El Luchadore Magnifico and the legendary Hville Thugg appear to be in allegiance. Could the World Champion have snuck his former rival into the building?”

Riley: “A Mexican help someone sneak in somewhere illegally, perish the thought.”

Stevens: “How ever he made it in, McWeed won’t be pleased. The Mag 7 might have won this battle for the tag titles, but the Midnight Carnival has a powerful new ally.”

Riley: “If he can ever get a contract.”

Stevens: “Time will tell, but not tonight as we are desperately out of it. For Bobby Riley, I’m Mark Stevens and we’ll see you on Smarkdown.”

December 7, 2002

NO-DQ SINGLES MATCH

Alex Zenon vs. Tod deKindes

- DeKindes wins this one.

NON-TITLE SINGLES MATCH

Annie Eclectic vs. Sigil

- Sigil wins, but Judge Mental saves her from a beating...

SINGLES MATCH

Bayawolf vs. Stryke

- Bayawolf beats the other Australian.

SINGLES MATCH

Judge Mental vs. Nathaniel Kibagami

- Kibagami wins (he used to be Silent ya' know)...

NON-TITLE SINGLES MATCH

Orochi vs. Mak Francis

- Frak Mancis! Er, I mean Mak Francis wins!

TORNADO TAG TEAM TITLE MATCH

- The champs retain...

SWF Storm (Nov. 6/2002)

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