SWF Storm (Dec. 14/2002)

[Guest BA_Baracus]

BOOM!

 

BOOM!

 

BOOM!

 

Rows of colorful pyros shoot off into the air, signaling the beginning of SWF Storm! The crowd cheers a bit as camera pans around the arena full of fans, picking out a few choice signs like “Now is the Early Winter of Our Discontent”, “Stryke out” and “Riley is the REAL German Wet Dream Machine!”. We go down to ringside, where the intrepid “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens and the irritating Bobbie Riley stand ready.

 

“Welcome to another fantastic edition of Storm!” Says Grand Slam, his All-American smile wide across his face, “Tonight we have a blockbuster card, with solid match-ups all around. In just a few minutes we are going be watching a returning Stryke face off against Tod deKindes and-”

 

Suddenly, the SmarkTron springs to life, showing a color picture of the entrance to loading dock of the arena. The crowd cheers as they watch a truck pulling up to the gate, and know who it is.

 

“Damnit! It’s Thugg again!”, A distraught Riley cries, “Didn’t Stubby realize how he got in last time?”

 

“Obviously not, because it looks like he’s sneaking in again!”

 

The driver calls out to the security guard, who away from him at three security cameras monitoring the area.

 

“Hey man, could you open the gate? I got ta drop this equipment off.” Says Thugg, keeping as low a profile a 7’2” tall man can. The gray-haired security guard doesn’t turn around, instead just gesturing with his index finger to ‘Wait one moment’.

 

Thugg looks from side to side to see if anyone else is coming, and asks again. “Hey man, I gotta go shoppin’ tonight and get sumthin’ for my kids. Could ya move it?” Once again, the security guard only motions ‘Wait a moment’ to Thugg, and as he opens his mouth to tell him raise the damn gate up, he hears something come in through the walkie-talkie the man is holding.

 

“…shshhssh-Is he there yet?-shshshshsh…”

 

“Yes,” the guard whispers, “Go now!”

 

It doesn’t take much more for Thugg to realize what’s going on, and he jams the pedal to the metal, crashing through the small security gate…

 

 

… and before he can build up any speed he broadsides a black Sedan that pulls right in front of him! Another car skids in behind the truck, effectively blocking the vehicle’s escape route, and Stevens puts the crowd’s worried mumbles to words.

 

“It’s a set up! They knew Thugg was coming again!” he says as the camera shows the broadsided car, with the Velvet Hammer trying to get out. He tries to open the door, but the truck bumper blocks it. “Damnit! Get out of the way, Williams!” Says Frost as he begins climbing over to the driver side. Thugg sees Williams beginning to get out from the car, and looks behind him to see Mercury, Ejiro Fasaki, and Fugue dash out from the other black Sedan, running full tilt at him. He gives a massive backhand to Merc, nailing him in the check and sending him flying into the side of the truck. Ejiro and Fugue avoid the return swipe, and Ejiro gives a swift kick to Thugg’s knee. The World Champ nearly topples over because of the hard kick, but manages to keep his balance, and catches Ejiro’s neck with his big hand. Fugue begins to come in, but Thugg tosses Ejiro right into the new SJL World Champion, and he realizes he can’t fight these odds. The former two time World Champion turns around towards the arena entrance….

 

 

 

 

 

… And right into a security guard superkick!

 

“Judge Mental was the guard! The Magnificent 7 had this set up brilliantly!”, Says an ecstatic Riley.

 

“It’s not near over yet, Bobbie…” notes Mark as Thugg takes a few steps back…

 

… and just looks right at the Judge. Mental gives a look of horror only reserved for when Barney Fife sees Sheriff Andy Taylor summarily execute Opie; No one has EVER brushed off his superkick like Thugg just did. The decibel level goes up to ‘Deafness Causing’ levels as the SmarkTron shows Judge Mental quickly regain himself and try and tackle him, but Thugg is able to break his grip and push him into the cab of the truck as he begins running. Danny Williams jumps in front of him, and readies himself like a football player as Thugg puts his arm out to block, but it doesn’t deter Deathwish at all. He tackles low, trying to get the legs right out from under the former World Champ…

 

 

 

… but Thugg is able to stiff arm him to the ground! Danny catches Thugg’s leg, but the man is barely able to pull his leg free! The crowd gives a massive pop as Thugg stumbles but gains regains his balance to keep moving, running past the black Sedan and towards one of the service entrances into the arena. If he gets in there, he can lose them in the halls.

 

“He’s gonna do it! Thugg is rushing like William “The Fridge” Perry, blasting right through the Magnificent 7! There’s no one left to get to but…

 

 

WHAMMM!

 

“Frost!” Screams Bobbie with glee, “He nailed him with a tackle that would have made Dick Butkus proud!”

 

“….”

 

“Hey, I happen to be a big fan of Dick Butkus.”

 

Mark’s silence says more than any words can as the SmarkTron shows a little instant replay of the Icelandic monster finally getting out of the car and broadsiding Thugg with a massive tackle, bringing him to the ground. He takes no time in hammering away at Thugg, and calling over the rest of the ambushers with a “GET OVER HERE DAMNIT!” Thugg gives him a punch back, but before he can do anything, Williams is there, and seconds later followed by Mental, Ejiro, Fugue and Mercury. The group tries to keep the huge beast on the ground, while the Judge busts out a pair of handcuffs from his belt.

 

“Hold him still! I can’t get these things on!” He says, and the lieutenant of the Magnificent 7 reaches over to Mental’s belt….

 

WHACK!

 

…and Thugg stops moving as Frost drops Mental’s riot club onto the ground.

 

“I can’t believe it! Frost just knocked Thugg out with that riot baton!” Says Stevens as Judge Mental snaps the handcuffs on the Hville Thugg to a chorus of boos. “It looks as if the Magnificent 7 have capture Thugg again. But where is Tom Flesher?”

 

The scene on the SmarkTron quickly wipes away to Tom Flesher, the Suicide King and Stubby P. McWeed, each in a comfy chair in what seems to be the one of the box seats of the Arena. All three of them look extremely happy.

 

“I’m right here, Mark,”, says the Superior One with a big smile across his mug, causing the crowd to boo incessantly, “Just showing Mr. McWeed and Mr. King here that we’re serious about giving them Thugg in exchange for a title shot. Do we have a deal, Mr. McWeed?” Asks Tom, and Stubby gives a nod, replying, “If you can deliver him to me, we have a deal.”

 

With that, Flesher brings up a Walkie-Talkie to mouth.

 

“Judge?”

 

“…shsshshsh-Yes?-shshshhss…”

 

“Bring Mr. Thugg to the nice big owners box, okay? Mr. McWeed wants Thugg to be in a safe place so he doesn’t get misplaced like last time.”

 

“…shshshshshsh-Right away, Tom.-shshshshshsshshs…” And with that, the image fades to black on the SmarkTron and we…

 

FADE TO COMMERCIAL

[Guest BA_Baracus]

SINGLES MATCH

Tod deKindes vs. Stryke

- Styke has recently returned to action in the SWF, but so far has yet to taste a win. Will the babyface Australian be able to pull out a victory against then nefarious Tod deKindes?

 

US TITLE MATCH

Danny Williams © vs. Annie Eclectic

- There was a #1 contender’s match for the US title on Smarkdown, but recently it was discovered that Annie had a rematch clause in her contract, and she’s using it on Storm!

 

NON-TITLE SINGLES MATCH

Bayawolf vs. Michael Craven

- The new hardcore champion will face Bayawolf, who’s hot off a win on last week’s Storm in a non-title match. Not much is known about Bayawolf…does he have what it takes to defeat the hardcore champ?

 

TAG TEAM MATCH

Frost & Ced Ordonez vs. El Luchadore Magnifico & CIA

- On Smarkdown Frost targeted Magnifico’s ally the Hville Thugg and with Ced as well as the other members of the Magnificent 7, he tried to capture the Thugg in order to earn a title shot against Magnifico. Unfortunately for Frost, Thugg escaped with help from the champ and the rest of the Carnies.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

**After a quick words by the sponsors, we're back inside the Copps Coliseum where the crowd is in anticipation of getting this show on the road. We waste no time, as we suddenly hear Static-X's "Cold" blare out from the speaker system.**

 

Stevens: Once again folks, welcome to SWF Storm and we're gonna kick things off with a blast here, as the returning Stryke goes one-on-one with Tod deKindes!

 

Riley: It was only last week that MY BOY: Tod deKindes DEFEATED Alex Zenon last week and for Tod not to get a shot at the ICTV title is a CRIME AGAINST ALL THAT IS NATURE!!

 

…

 

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, this is the opening contest for SWF Storm and it is set fo ONE fall! Introducing first: From Toronto, Ontario, Canada; weighing in at 225 lbs…He is the Sole Surviving Member Of X Force Nine And If You Got A Problem With That, Well Then Hit The Road, Jack; And Don't You Come Back No More, No More, No More, No More…Tod - deeeeeeeeeeeeee - Kindeeeeeeeeeessssss!!

 

Stevens: How many hours a day does Tod spend writing up these intros for Funyon?

 

**Out of bitterness for wrestling the opener two weeks in a row, Tod lets out his emotions just as soon as he walks out onto the ramp; all while telling the crowd that he's not in the mood tonight, that Octopussy is a great name, if you know what I mean; that Craig Kilborn is trying, so just give him a CHANCE, and that he's allergic to that girl's Wal Mart bought eau de toilette. That aside, Tod slides under the bottom rope, where he sprints towards the second rope of a random corner, proudly thumbs his chest and throws his fist into the air…actually booing BACK at the already resentful crowd. Okay then.**

 

Riley: This man has been on a roll lately! Over the past few weeks he's made such an impact that's been felt by EVERYBODY from the World champion (who he's beaten, y'know), to the ring rats hanging out backstage after the show! The year 2003 is approaching fast, Stevens and it will be TOD's year in the SWF!!

 

**Just as the strobelight show and spooky music come to an end, we pick it right up as Jay Gordon's mix of Linkin Park's "Point Of Authority" kicks off from the sound system. Just as the song kicks in, a huge wall of white and orange pyro bursts onto the stage, creating a loud booming sound. As the pyro smoke clears, out steps from the curtains the returning superstar himself.**

 

Funyon: And his opponent: From Sydney, Australia; weighing in at 210 lbs: Strrrryyyyyyyyyyyke!!

 

**While the fans welcome back the wonder from down under, Stryke takes a quick moment on the ramp to acknowledge the cheering masses with a quick nod of the head. He resumes his way down as he psyches himself up and charges under the bottom rope, entering the ring in aggressive fashion. Just in time to catch Tod snatching the microphone away from the departing Funyon.**

 

Stevens: Great, now what?

 

**As the music cuts abruptly, Tod raises a hand towards the australian superstar.**

 

Tod: Whoa. Whoa. Whoa, whoa, WHOA! Now Stryke…are you SURE you want to get yourself into this? You've seen what happened last week! You've seen what happened the weeks before! I am such on a freakin' ROLL that it'll make your head spin!! Last week, I choked out Alex Zenon; and it should be ME going for the ICTV title tonight!! But once again, I get shafted down to the curtain-jerker…against you, Stryke. What have you even DONE lately?! Matter of fact, who even CARES?! Y'know, I used to look up to you! But now, man…you're just a DISAPPOINTMENT!

 

Stevens: Oooooh, big words.

 

**As the crowd boos, Stryke simply looks on, those words not even fazing him.**

 

Tod: So tonight, Stryke; after Fallout, Annie, CIA and Alex Zenon…it's your turn. Hey Stryke? I think I hear a dingo eatin' your baby…

 

**With that, Tod tosses the microphone towards Stryke who instinctively catches it. This allows Tod to score right away with a massive boot to the midsection! As Eddy Long tosses the dropped mic back to its owner, the bell is also rung. Tod hammers right away on Stryke with a series of right hands, to which he follows it up with an Irish whip to the ropes. Stryke bounces off the ropes with impressive speed, but has to duck under Tod's attempted clothesline, missing his head by a hair. Bouncing off the other set, he ducks one more time as Tod tries a back elbow, only to swing at nothing but air. Third time's the charm as Stryke bounces off the ropes again and lands a neat flying back elbow! Tod is quick to hit the mat, but Stryke is right back on him.**

 

Stevens: Eat THAT, Dingo!

 

Riley: …

 

**Irish whip to the ropes by Stryke, who bends down for a quick back bodydrop attempt. Tod counters that one with a Van Dam'esque flip and lands, which lands him right on his feet behind the australian. He grabs a quick waistlock and takes him to the ropes for a takedown attempt. Stryke's hands clasp onto the top rope, causing Tod to do an involuntary backwards roll but he quickly gets back to his feet. Both men charge at each other, but a quick slap to the back by Tod sends Stryke running the ropes once more. He once again ducks under a clothesline attempt by Tod, and then leaps off in a crossbody attempt…but he's caught!**

 

Tod: Aw HELL n--oh, shit!

 

**Just as he goes to twist Stryke off into the Formula For Failure; Stryke counters THAT by twisting his body around and propelling Tod to the mat with an armdrag! Muttering a few curse words simultaneously, Tod scrambles up to his feet and charges…but gets taken down with another armdrag! On the third time, Stryke fakes out with another armdrag attempt, but just as Tod is in sights; Stryke leaps off of his feet and SCORES with a mighty dropkick that sends Tod tumbling through the ropes and out of the ring!**

 

Stevens: Looks like Stryke is taking care of Tod in the early going!

 

Riley: NOT for long, Hound Dog!!

 

**With Stryke flipping his hair back and in the ready position and with the crowd firmly behind him; Tod is on both knees at ringside and begging for a time-out. Eddy Long will have none of that however, as he starts up the 10 count.**

 

Stevens: I think Tod deKindes may have (1) underestimated Stryke, here.

 

Riley: Nonsense, he's just a bit winded. The man needs to catch (2) his breath!!

 

Stevens: Yeah, after a whopping (3) TWO ARMDRAGS!!

 

Riley: AND AN ILLEGAL DROPKICK!! (4)

 

Stevens: Illegal dropkick?!

 

Riley: Yeah, closed (5) foot!

 

**Tod carefully steps back onto the apron, but Stryke is there to meet him with an oncoming attack. Tod quickly counters that with a shoulderblock to the midsection. Grabbing the top rope firmly with both hands, Tod springs off the apron and sails over with a forward roll off of Stryke's back and then quickly wraps his legs around Stryke's waist into a modified sunset flip! The cover.**

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

**Quick kick out by Stryke. Tod recovers and nails Stryke with a solid knee lift to the gut. He throws himself off the nearest set of ropes and comes back, nailing a huge delayed swinging neckbreaker. Bouncing off the ropes once more, Tod completes that offensive with a big time knee drop to the forehead. He puts on the lateral press, all while grinding his forearm in Stryke's face.**

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

**Another kick out by Stryke. Tod goes to lift him off the mat by the hair, but Stryke suddenly breaks free and fires off right hands of his own on Tod! Stryke goes to fire him off towards the ropes with an Irish whip, but Tod switches positions with an arm twist and sends Stryke on the ride instead. Tod leans down for a back bodydrop attempt of his own, but Stryke counters with his OWN sunset flip! However Tod doesn't go down just yet…**

 

Stevens: There's that size advantage coming in handy for Tod!

 

**With arms flailing wildly, Tod stabilizes himself just long enough to ball up his fist and aim it right at Stryke's face…and he hits nothing but mat! His ass isn't even big enough, so a buttdrop is definitely out of the question. However, thinking about his options too long causes Stryke to simply pull Tod down into a pin attempt!**

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

**Tod rolls backwards, grabs the legs and flips forward into a jackknife hold for yet another pin!**

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

**Amazingly, Stryke muscles both men up and turns the whole damn thing into a backslide!**

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

**Tod wiggles his legs free and quickly recovers with an inside cradle of his own!**

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

**As Eddy Long wipes his forehead clean of any sweat, Stryke catches Tod off guard with a scintillating jawbreaker. As Tod staggers about, trying to replace any misplaced jaw bones, Stryke catches him in a fireman's carry position; only to twist him around and DRIVE his jaw into his extended knee, into yet another jawbreaking move. Cover by Stryke, as he hooks the leg.**

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

TH--..!

 

**Shoulder up by Tod, who seems to have hurt his jaw for real. As Eddy Long goes over to check, Tod tries to pull himself up with the help of the man in stripes. But just as Stryke approaches, Tod SHOVES Long away and connects with a low blow on the australian! Crowd does not approve of that one. Long gives Tod a stern warning, oblivious to Tod's nefarious tactic of gaining the advantage.**

 

Riley: BEAUTIFUL recovery by Tod deKindes!

 

Stevens: Yeah, he shoved the referee away so he couldn't see!!

 

**Tod grabs Stryke in a front facelock and throws his arm up over his head, signaling only one thing…**

 

Riley: There it is! THE greatest move sequence ever since the freaking Big Boot and Legdrop!!

 

**Tod snaps Stryke off of his feet with a crisp suplex. Holding on, he brings him back up…**

 

Riley: I give you the Tod Trilogy, Stevens!!

 

Stevens: What is the POINT of that stupid name?! I liked Sara Sequence better, if you ask me.

 

**Tod lifts up Stryke off the mat …and brings him down hard with a front suplex.**

 

Riley: Don't you EVER dare utter that name in Tod's presence EVER AGAIN!! I'm gonna tell him you said that!!

 

Stevens: You do that.

 

**On the third and final lift, Tod mercilessly drops Stryke stomach first right on top of the uppermost rope. Always one to vary his offense, Tod foregoes his traditional springboard legdrop in favor of throwing himself in the ropes, and then FLIES over Stryke in an attempt at a "sunset powerbomb" to the outside! Seeing as that fails (Stryke is grabbing onto the ropes), Tod switches position and yanks out Stryke's feet from under him, causing him hit his face on the apron. Dazed, Stryke is hunched over that very same apron; allowing Tod to quickly slide back into the ring. The canadian one bounces off the ropes one more time and connects with a BIG TIME sliding dropkick right onto Stryke's face, whom crumples in a heap to the outside. With a loud and insincere "Thank You!!", Tod draws the ire of the crowd as he rolls back inside the ring, encouraging Eddy Long to restart his 10 count.**

 

Stevens: This (1) has been a fast-paced encounter thus far, with no clear advantage (2) being established as we speak!

 

Riley: No clear advantage?! (3) What are you SMOKING?? Look who is down and OUT on the (4) floor! And look who is standing tall in the ring!! (5) That's right, that's MY BOY: Tod deKindes!!

 

**Tod backs off near the ropes, almost sizing up the now rising Stryke. Changing strategies on the fly, Tod shoves Eddy Long out of his way and slides back to the outside. He grabs Stryke's head by the hair and SMASHES it hard against the ring apron, before tossing him back inside the ring. Standing atop the apron, Tod quickly springboards off with the help of the ropes and lands a solid elbow right on Stryke's chest cavity. He leans backwards for the cover attempt.**

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

TH--!!

 

**Eddy Long stops his count as he notices Stryke's foot resting on the bottom rope. Tod perks up in assumed celebration, but Long is quick to thrust the canadian one's arms back down, reminding him of Stryke's inherent means of avoiding the pinfall. Tod insists that he won anyway, causing a brief shouting argument between wrestler and referee. Just as Tod returns his attention to Stryke (now in a kneeling position, recovering near the ropes), the australian one catches Tod off guard with a jaw rocking standing sidekick!**

 

Stevens: Heatseeker by Stryke! Well…looks like it, at least.

 

**Though Stryke didn't get all of that kick in, Tod is left staggering about until Stryke catches him with a boot to the gut. Grabbing Tod in his own form of a suplex position, he lifts him high up in the air …only to drop him hard down on the mat with a seated front suplex!**

 

Stevens: And that's the Showstopper! This could be it!

 

Riley: Nah, he's gonna kick out.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THR--…!

 

**Kick out by Tod.**

 

Riley: See?

 

**In a matter of seconds, Stryke realizes that Tod needs full use of his arms in order to apply both of his finishers, and duly traps Tod in an armtwist. After straining a bit, Tod tries to counter out of the hold with the Owen Hart Reversal Sequence and into his OWN armtwist, which causes Stryke to do an involuntary front flip and landing on his back. Tod tries to hold on to the ensuing armbar, but Stryke almost immediately nips up, only to have Tod yank him back down by the hair! Relentless, Stryke nips up again only to be once again yanked down! Repeat twice more, until Stryke manages to contort his body around and turn it all into a rear hammerlock on Tod. Before Tod can survey his options of escaping the move, Stryke goes right into a side headlock and takes down Tod to the mat, cinching in the hold.**

 

Stevens: So much for your boy dominating there, Bobby. Stryke has done a good job in grounding Tod thus far.

 

Riley: You just wait…

 

**Eddy Long dives in the check the hold, even surprising Tod with a couple of two counts in the process. Having had enough, Tod gradually makes his way up to his feet while trying to fight off the hold. He eventually does so by shoving Stryke off to the ropes. He quickly drops down, allowing Stryke to hop over the downed Tod and bounce off the opposite ropes. Tod springs up to his feet and quickly leapfrogs the charging australian, avoiding a sure collision. On the third bounce, Tod is ready as he extends his hand …allowing Stryke to run eyes-first RIGHT into Tod's extended fingers!**

 

Stevens: Aw, come on! That was a cheap shot to the eyes!

 

Riley: THAT'S how you retake an advantage from a man! Relieve him of his sight and THEN pound on him!

 

**Tod catches the staggering Stryke with a boot to the gut and then thrusts his head into a standing headscissors. He lifts up the australian one effortlessly and then PLANTS him with an old school piledriver! Tod punctuates that with a quick fistdrop to the forehead, and then lays on top of Stryke with a lateral press and the forearm to the face.**

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THR--…!

 

**Kick out by Stryke. Tod nails the rapidly rising Stryke with a well-placed boot to the head, only to lift him up into a fireman's carry position of his own. After tauntingly taking a few steps around the ring, Tod finally DRIVES Stryke down hard to the mat with a big time DVD.**

 

Riley: Ooh, I think his head is stuck in the mat.

 

Stevens: We all know what move usually follows that one, folks.

 

**Tod proceeds over to a corner with a moderate climb of the turnbuckles. With Stryke still down on the canvas; Tod flips the hair back for better sight, gracefully leaps off his perch in an awkward position, only to snap back into the picture perfect position of a flying elbowdrop, and landing HARD on top of Stryke. The cover is academic …**

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THRE--…!

 

**Or is it? Tod reacts with a loud "WHAT?!" directed at the official as they both watch Stryke's shoulder elevated high into the air. Before anything else, Tod duly swats that arm down with a solid kick to the bicep. He yanks the aussie up by his hair and casually Irish whips him to the ropes. Stryke ducks under a basic clothesline attempt and catches Tod into a rear waistlock, trying to go into a german suplex. Tod will have none of that however, as he elbows Stryke on the side of head twice and switches into his own waistlock. He quickly goes for his own german, but Stryke is a little hesitant to comply. A series of stiff forearms to the upper back put him back in place, as Tod completes the move and drives Stryke down hard with a HUGE german suplex, bridged into a pin!**

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THRE…--!

 

Stevens: Another kick out by Stryke!

 

Riley: CLEARLY Eddy Long is having a bad day!!

 

**Tod maintains his advantage by shoving Stryke into a corner and showering him with repeated kicks to the midsection. Upon Long's warning, Tod casually Irish whips Stryke to the opposite corner, where he collides hard with the turnbuckles. Half a second later, Tod charges …and nails a HUGE corner spear, driving whatever air is left out of the aussie. Rather than follow it up with his regular belly to belly suplex, Tod simply whips Stryke back onto the opposing corner, only this time he collides chest first, staggering backwards to the center of the ring. Tod holds out his hands in anticipation …and tries to clamp on the Silent Scream!**

 

Stevens: And there it is, the Silent Scream! That move has beaten a number of men in recent weeks, Bobby!

 

Riley: Yes! YES!! Break out the bubbly, 'cause it's OVER!!

 

**With the move partially in, Stryke tries to advance towards the ropes in order to free himself, while Tod tries to get the needed momentum to lock in the body scissors. Just as it's about to look hopeless for Stryke, he pedals up the ropes and lands Bret Hart's Roll Up Reversal, while STILL in the Silent Scream! Eddy Long is in position!**

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

Riley: NOOO!!

 

THRE…--!

 

**Just now, Tod has enough brains to realize the situation, and promptly releases the hold and avoids being pinned at the LAST second! Though acting fast, Tod sees the still-recovering Stryke and sends a quick throat slash the crowd's way.**

 

Riley: That's IT, Stevens! Tod's got another move in his arsenal and I'll be DAMNED if it can't get the job done!

 

**Tod quickly brings Stryke back up to his feet for what seems to be the final blow. He runs his arm through his legs and goes to appropriate him into the pumphandle position. He lifts Stryke up on his shoulder…but he slips free and counters with a Sleeper Drop!**

 

Stevens: Sleeper Drop by Stryke! This could turn things around!

 

**Hoping to score with the Meteor, Stryke leaps off the second rope…but Tod moves! Luckily, Stryke had that scouted as he lands on his feet. Tod grabs his arm for an Irish whip, but Stryke quickly reverses it. Tod reverses THAT with a switch as he slides between Stryke's legs while still holding the arm…and he has him BACK into the pumphandle! He recovers and effortlessly lifts up Stryke, only to DRIVE him down hard with the silly-named move!!**

 

Riley: German Wet Dream Machine!! Hoo-ah!!

 

Stevens: The leg is hooked!!

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!!

 

**Bell rings. As the crowd boos try to drown out the victorious "Cold" by Static-X, Funyon makes it official.**

 

Funyon: The winner of this contest: Tod - deeeeeeeeeeeee - Kiiinnndeeeeeeeeeesssss!!!

 

**Tod rolls off of Stryke with the same shit eating grin that overtook him one week prior after defeating Alex Zenon, as he slowly retreats to the back; still staring at his fallen opponent …**

 

Stevens: What an upset for Tod deKindes!

 

Riley: An upset??! I say it's ONE MORE TO THE LIST for Tod tonight!! The streak continues…

 

Stevens: Well, nevertheless, we got more action coming up later; Danny Williams and Annie Eclectic are NEXT!

 

**While Eddy Long tends to the fallen Stryke, we go over to our first set of commercials of the night.**

[Guest BA_Baracus]

Ced Ordonez sits on the edge of a table in a bare locker room taping his wrists and making preparations for his upcoming tag match. A dark, bruiting shadow falls over him and he looks up. A quick flash of surprise lights his face, but just for a fraction of an instant. He lowers his head to finish his tape job and says, “Can I help you with something…Frost?”

 

The crowd can be heard roaring with boos in the background as the hulking Icelander lumbers into frame and stands to the side of Ordonez. “I think we need to talk.” Frost spits out with a low grumble.

 

Ced runs a hand across his face and down his chin before speaking with a deep sigh. “Honestly, I don’t have anything to say to you. I don’t know why we’re partnered up tonight and I don’t care. I just want to win and I hope you do too.” There’s a questioning tone in that last phrase that does not go lost on the big man.

 

“Winning means everything to me. You should know that I do whatever I have to, unlike some people.” Frost slides out that last remark in the same edgy tone.

 

Ced’s head bolts up and his eyes lock on Frost’s. “Look, I might not use the same tactics,” his voice cuts on the word “as you do, but never question my will to win. I want to make my way through this company to the top like you or anyone else.”

 

“Is that why you tried to cut in on the Magnificent 7 attack on the Hville Thugg last Tuesday?” Frost pokes a finger in Ced’s chest and he gruffly swipes it away to “ooo’s” from the audience.

 

“So, that’s why you’re here? Trying to tie up loose ends? I want that World title shot just like anybody else. You could just say that I was in the wrong place at the wrong time as far as you’re concerned. I don’t know Thugg, he’s never done anything for me. Why shouldn’t I try to take him down and earn a World title shot?” Ced now pokes a finger in Frost’s chest.

 

The Iceman brushes it away gently and beams a wicked smile. “Now that’s a reason I can live with. It’s good to know you’re on the same page as me.”

 

“But I don’t think you’re on my page. I don’t want to tag with you, but I don’t have a choice in the matter. Now, if you’re excuse me…” Ced picks his gym bag up off the floor and sits it on the table “I have to finish getting ready for MY match.”

 

The pair intensely exchange a narrowed eyed stare, until Frost finally relents and stalks out of frame.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

Hamilton, Ontario goes berzerk one more time as the cameras roll on the audience. SWF Storm is back on the air! Quick cut to inside the ring where Annie Eclectic is taking off her Japanese Flag trenchcoat and handing it off to referee Billy Chioda.

 

Funyon: Ladies and Gentlement, our next matchup, scheduled for one fall is for the S W F UNITED STATES CHAMPIONSHIP!

 

The crowd explodes into more cheers as we cut to the announcer's table where "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley sit.

 

Stevens: Welcome back to Storm, we just saw a great one on one affair between Tod deKindes and Stryke to start off the show...

 

Riley: ...and now we're back to wake you up!

 

Stevens: Bobby....

 

Back inside the ring...

 

Funyon: Introducing first, already in the ring... weighing in at one hundred and seventy-five pounds and representing the Midnight Carnival... the Hard! Core! Queen! Annniiiiiieeee Eeeeeclleeeeeectiiiiiic!!!!

 

Annie E smiles to the crowd and raises her arms in premature victory. She mimes a gesture around her waist to make sure the fans know where she expects the belt to rest after the match.

 

Stevens: Annie Eclectic has seen somewhat of a downturn in the win column, having lost three straight heading into this matchup, not to mention the injuries she's continued to work though...

 

Riley: Cry me a river Mark, if the woman is dumb enough to continue to fight hurt, whatever happens as a result is her own damn fault. It won't change the fact that we'll have to hear her whine on and on about it... "Ohhh, Tod cracked my ribs! Awww, Danny hit a Dangerous Suplex and misaligned my back! Ohhh, Craven Chairsaulted my abs into mush!" Please, no sympathy from me for this.

 

Stevens: You are a cold bitter man. It's a good thing you aren't straight.

 

Riley: Yeah... what?

 

"Jester's Dance" starts to play and the boos start to appear. An absence of pyro or video accompany the ripped fighter that pushes his way roughly through the curtains. A stoic expression graces the bearded Williams' face, calmly walking with purpose to the ring. Slung over his shoulder is the SWF United States Championship, which Danny makes sure to tap and point to himself, showing his own confidence for the match.

 

Funyon: And now, the Champion, weighing in at two hundred thirty eight pounds.. he is the current S W F United States Champion... representing the Magnificent Seven.... Dannnnnny Wiiiiiliaaaaaaams!!!!!

 

Williams climbs the steps up to the ring and steps through the ropes. He brusquely pushes the belt into Chioda's hands as he takes his warmups in the corner. Chioda holds the belt high for the entire arena to see before handing it off to the timekeeper outside the ring.

 

DING DING DING

 

Both fighter tentively step forward before rushing in and locking up in a collar elbow tie up. Williams and Eclectic struggle against each other's strength until Williams pushes off hard, sending Annie backwards to the mat. Eclectic sits up and looks at her opponent harshly.

 

Danny: You want my belt? GET UP! Come here and TAKE it from me!

 

Riley: THAT is how you talk to a woman, Mark!

 

Stevens: I'm sure right thinking people are going to take that statement to heart, Bobby.

 

Eclectic rises to her feet and brushes off her red catsuit. Looking more determined than ever, she engages in another collar elbow tie up. Quickly, the Hardcore Queen turns Williams into a side headlock which gets countered just as fast as Danny pushes Annie into the ropes. Eclectic rebounds off the ropes but can't get her opponent into focus quick enough to halt the front waistlock applied by Danny on her return. With a grunt, the former Deathwish tosses the woman up and over his head causing Annie to land roughly on the mat behind him. Upon landing, Annie immediatly cluches at her sides, flinching at the damage to her already injured sides.

 

Stevens: Again, the achilles heel of Annie Eclectic comes into play. Right off Danny Williams attacks the Challenger's midsection that has taken such a beating over the last few weeks.

 

Riley: Williams plays the smart champion here. Attack any weaknesses, exploit them, and take the easy win. Being champion isn't about honor all the time, like this dumb woman seems to think it is.

 

Stevens: Who the hell are you to expound on being a champion?

 

Riley: Hey! I held the belt that Danny is upholding right now!

 

Stevens: Funny how no one remembers that....

 

Williams doesn't wait to see how his opponent took the suplex before grabbing Annie E and locking her in a standing headscissors. Lifting from her waist, Danny flips the Angel up onto his shoulders... but Annie starts to punch at Danny's head at the apex of the attempted powerbomb. Having distracted her opponent, Annie drops her own weight straight down, forcing Williams to follow his trapped head up and over Annie's body, crashing behind her on the mat! The crowd erupts in cheers as Annie rolls over, laying an arm across Danny's chest for a quick cover....

 

ONE...

 

TWO...

 

TH...NO!

 

Stevens: Quick cover after the great reversal and Annie can try to dictate the match to her tastes now.

 

Riley: So she's going to take off her top and flip?

 

Stevens: Say that to her face next time. What I'm trying to say is that Annie needs to quicken up the pace of this match. She may be a baby brawler but she can't afford to let Williams take the match to her slowly. Annie needs to use her speed and quickly strike over and over to win this.

 

Riley: If she can keep Danny away from her ribs that is. One shot from this ripped mass of muscle and the bitch will go down quicker than Ted Flink at a nudist colony.

 

Stevens: Wow, pot calling kettle black much?

 

As if hearing Mark's voice across the ether, Annie gets right back up to her feet and runs towards the ropes. Leaping off the rebound, Annie extends a leg out as gravity takes over, dropping the leg across Williams' face. Eclectic goes back to the well, bouncing off the ropes, but this time leaping -over- Danny as he starts to roll towards her. Failing to trip up his opponent, Danny gets up on one knee only to duck and let Annie Eclectic hop over him. Turning around, the Champion catches his opponents frankensteiner attempt with ease, causing a deflation in the cheering audience. Holding Annie up on his shoulders, Williams haphazardly throws his opponent backwards sending Annie face first towards the ropes.... and landing with both feet on the second rope. Annie vaults off the rope and turns at the same time as her opponent... landing a springboard dropkick right into the Champion's face! Danny Williams staggers backwards and holds his nose in pain. Annie measures the distance from where she landed to where Danny is and times her next step as the Champion moves his hand away from his nose... and superkicks Danny right in the face! Williams' head snaps back fiercely as he slowly drops backwards to the mat! Annie drops to hook a leg for the count...

 

 

ONE....

 

TWO....

 

THR...NO!!!

 

Stevens: That was actually close! Annie may have just found the Champions' weakness herself!

 

Riley: What weakness? This man is invunerable of late!

 

Stevens: Yes but it wasn't long ago when Danny Williams had a severe break to his nose! Annie is either lucky or has done her homework because Danny seems to be showing reluctance to let blows get to his head.

 

Riley: Or it could just be he doesn't like to be hit in the face. Since, you know, people don't like it when that happens.

 

Annie slowly rolls Danny over and applies a sloppy crossface, trying to put more pressure on the Champion's face. Danny reaches to his side and grabs the nearby ropes, forcing Annie to break the hold just as quickly as she applied it. As the referee tries to separate Annie off of the Champion, Danny takes the opportunity to land a hard right punch into the Challenger's ribs! Annie drops like a ton of bricks as the referee now pulls Danny off Annie! Williams gets a small warning as Annie writhes in pain on the mat. A half-full cup of beer flies into the ring and hits the Champion in the head as the rest of the crowd boos mercilessly.

 

Stevens: What a cheap shot! The referee was only breaking up the submission but Danny has to get that extra attack in while she's distracted!

 

Riley: And going right back to those ribs! Brilliant!

 

Stevens: The crowd doesn't like that move....

 

Chioda steps away to allow the action to continue. Danny Williams takes a running start and sends a stiff kick right into his fallen opponent's ribs. Annie groans loudly as Danny bends over to pick his opponent up off the mat. More boos rain down to the ring as Danny bends over to Annie's side and sets up a gut wrench suplex... only to drop to the mat as Annie backfists Danny Williams in the groin! Chioda pulls the two fighters apart a third time, now giving a warning to the Hardcore Queen!

 

Riley: Come on now Annie, this is the US title, not the Tin Belt O' Garbage! Shouldn't she be disqualified for that???

 

Stevens: Looks like the ref will allow it! Annie's probably getting slack because of Danny's own cheap shot earlier.

 

Riley: Oh come on.....

 

Danny pushes the challenger off, but she uses the momentum to head towards the ropes. Rebounding off, Annie traverses the ring and lands a flying forearm directly on Danny's face. Williams staggers back as Annie runs back to the ropes. The challenger returns and attempts a lariat, but Danny throws her over the top rope to the outside! Annie E lands with a hard thud on the concrete and screams out in pain. Chioda tries to stop the champion from following outside but fails miserably as Danny steps through the ropes and drops to the floor.. Tweaking his hurt nose, Danny walks over to the announcers table and looks sternly at the two retired SWF wrestlers.

 

Stevens: What do YOU want?

 

Danny: Shut it and stand, Stevens!

 

Stevens: To hell with you! I'm a former SWF World... BOBBY! Sit back down!

 

Riley: Can't you see the man wants a chair?

 

Bobby Riley hands Danny Williams his seat as the champion folds it up and turns to face his rising opponent. The referee stops his own count to warn Williams a second time but the champion doesn't listen. Holding the chair sideways, Danny sends the weapon right into Annie's ribs. Billy Chioda waves frantically at the timekeeper who rings the bell....

 

 

DING DING DING

 

More boos rain down as Williams sends a second shot into Annie's ribs....

 

Funyon: Your winner, by disqualification.... Annie Eclectic! But due to championship rules, your United States champion remains... Danny. Williams!!!

 

Road agents run out from the back as Williams continues his assault on Annie Eclectic. A third shot lands, dropping the hardcore queen down to one knee but Danny stops as he sees retirees running at him. The agents crowd the two combatants, pulling Danny off Annie and forcing him to roll back into the ring. Others pick up the challenger, only to be shoved out of the way as Annie forces her own way back into the ring. The agents try to follow but are too late to stop another skirmish as both fighters start punching each other wildly. Annie lands a knee to the groin, doubling the champion over in the ring. Annie takes the opportunity to lock a standing headscissors... double underhook his arms...

 

Stevens: DAYBREAK! DAYBREAK! THE US CHAMP GETS HIT WITH THE DAYBREAK AND THE AGENTS ARE PULLING ANNIE OFF WILLIAMS! What a finish to this match as Annie wins via DQ but still can't call herself a two time US champion!

 

Annie breaks free and lands a few stomps to the fallen Williams before getting pulled away, this time for sure. Annie grabs at her side and takes her trenchcoat forcefully from one of the agents. As she walks up the ramp, cut to the ring where Danny Williams lies motionless in the center of the ring, his nose visibly broken and blood streaming out his nostrils. Medics rush to the ring to patch up the US champion as Annie walks through the curtain at the top of the ramp..... only to walk straight back out with a microphone in hand.

 

Annie: I know you probably can't hear me right now, but tomorrow they'll wake you up from whatever brain damage you justly deserved tonight and you'll watch the replay of the show. And you'll see me, staring at your broken form in the ring and smiling. Smiling because I know that I have support, smarts... and most of all: HONOR. You want to use weapons against me? FINE. But do it where I can do it right back at you! I want a rematch, NO DQs, NO chance for a screwjob!

 

Riley: Screwjob? That was a legit title defense for Danny Williams and this bitch...

 

Annie: Because with a fair shot, we will have a NEW US Champion after the pay per view! That isn't a threat, that isn't a promise... that is a DECREE! FROM THE....

 

Crowd and Annie: HARD. CORE. QUEEN!!!!

 

"I Get Wet" by Andrew W.K. plays over the PA system as Annie Eclectic walks back through the curtain. Inside the ring, the medics have stopped the bleeding but a stretcher has been prepared to take the champion somewhere to have his broken nose attended to...

 

Riley: That bitch cut me off!!! SHE CUT ME OFF!!! That HAS to be the rudest...

 

Stevens: What a decree from the Queen! Will she get her rematch though? The Carnies and Stubby McWeed aren't exactly friends but, come on. This warrants a rematch down the line!

 

Riley: You two? I swear one more person interrupts....

 

Stevens: Well folks, we have more action to come, so stay turned to S W F Storm!!!!

 

Riley: I hate you.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

…Frost stands in a plaid shirt with an axe over his shoulder and one of those furry hats with the earflaps. Before him is a table with a plate of breakfast food on it.

 

“Frost brand Canadian bacon, because if there’s one thing I know better than Mexican tacos, it’s Canadian bacon!” Frost shoots the camera a thumbs up and swipes the hunk of bacon off the plate. He bites a big chunk out of it and smiles at the camera while he chews. However, his face twists into a disgusted look and he spits the half-chewed food out on the floor. “What the f*ck! This is just really fatty ham!” he screams.

 

The scene fades with the voice of a director pleading, “cut, cut” in the background. The screen remains black for a second before the grinning visage of Grand Slam Mark Stevens at the commentator’s table flickers into sight.

 

“Welcome back to SWF Storm, LIVE from the Victor Copps Coliseum in Hamilton, Ontario, Canada.” Stevens gestures to the empty chair next to him. “My broadcast partner Bobby Riley took off during that last commercial break and I’m not sure where he went. I know he’s been eyeing this guy with hockey hair and wearing a wife beater up in the second section, but let’s not have our imaginations go any farther down that track. Instead, let’s focus on the upcoming tag team match up.”

 

Footage marked with “last Smarkdown” in the bottom left hand corner is shown as Stevens speaks. “Frost defeated CIA and Ced Ordonez in a triple threat match for the U.S. title number one contendership this past Tuesday. Although the two fan favorites started out working together,” footage of Ced and CIA hitting the backdrop/neckbreaker combo on Frost is shown “the Velvet Hammer quickly used his cunning ways to set the two men at odds and notch the victory.” Frost is shown whipping CIA into Ced in the corner, then slamming Ced onto CIA for a cover. Cut to Frost finally scoring the pin on CIA with the Early Winter.

 

“Later, Frost was jumped by the Hville Thugg,” HVT is shown jumping Frost from out of a closet with a steel chair. “Prompting the Icelandic Iceman and the rest of the Magnificent 7 to hunt the mammoth former World Champion down, but when they finally found him an unusual grappler was shown in on the beat down.” The beatdown on Thugg is replayed with a special halo of light digitally surrounding Ced Ordonez to single him out. The scene returns to Grand Slam live.

 

“We learned earlier tonight that Ced Ordonez was basically in the wrong place at the wrong time, but was interested in scoring the bounty Commissioner McWeed has placed on Thugg’s head just like everyone else, namely a World title shot. Although, tonight, it’s hard to guess whether Stubby is rewarding or punishing Ordonez by tagging him with Frost against the Midnight Carnival contingent of the Canadian Intelligence Agent and SWF World Champion, El Luchadore Magnifico.”

 

The shot transitions from Stevens to Funyon standing in the ring preparing for his introductions. “Esaka?” from King of Fighters ’96 blares through the arena as the lights fade. A lone spotlight shines down on a form at the top of the entrance stage with a purple towel draped over his lowered head.

 

“Introducing first, from Sacramento, California at a weight of 203 pounds. This…is… CED…OR…DO…NEZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!”

 

The scrappy lightweight throws his head back as the houselights return to full. He absent-mindedly whips his towel into the crowd and trots lethargically down the ramp.

 

Stevens: “Very light applause for Ordonez and a smattering of boos. More out of whom his tag team partner is this evening than anything else. Ced himself seems very taken aback and out of place here. We can only assume how having to team with a man he has faced in the squared circle many a time will affect his typically stellar performance.”

 

The music shifts to wailing guitars as Ced hits the ring and there is no questioning the boos from the fans this time.

 

“And his tag team partner,” even Funyon has a hard time spitting that one out “tipping the scales at 296 pounds and a product of Reykjavik, Iceland. He is one half of the current tag team champions and a member of the Magnificent 7, FROST!”

 

Frost trots down the ramp with a clenched fist in the air and puffing vigorously away on his trademark cigar.

 

Stevens: “We saw that Ced and Frost had a meeting of the minds in the back earlier tonight, but one can’t help to doubt how well that will stand up. Yet, both men have experienced their greatest SWF success in the tag ranks and maybe that expertise can override any ill feelings and bad chemistry.”

 

Frost pitches his still lit cigar into the audience with a trail of fiery ash lighting its way. He pulls himself up to the apron by the second rope and steps into the ring over the top strand. Frost and Ced warm-up in adjacent corners while exchanging mistrusting glances.

 

The lights go out once more with only the image of a Canadian flag waving in the breeze playing on the Smarktron. The audience explodes with uncontrollable cheering for what seems like minutes. A cooing voice can barely be heard purring “Midnight Carnival” out over top the rabid crowd noise. “Love Rollercoaster” by the Red Hot Chili Peppers blares out to rejuvenate the fan cheering. Three blue laser lights trace the auditorium and fans out into a cerulean mist to coat the stage as the chorus of the tune drops in. Two figures can be seen emerging from the backstage curtain and fans jack up the noise louder still. Purples strobe lights beam down to highlight the two figures and the blue lights from before go gallivanting around the arena on a wild dance.

 

“Their opponents,” Funyon booms as loud as he can to be heard “weigh a combined 430 pounds and are proud to be representing the Midnight Carnival from the good countries of Mexico and CANADA! World Champion EL LUCHADORE MAGNIFICO and C…I…AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

 

The lights come back up and the two faces trot down the ramp bathed in one of the loudest ovations they have ever received.

 

Stevens: “I can’t believe this crowd! We are in the Canadian Intelligence Agent’s home province and you can be sure that there are many fans from CIA’s native Ottawa here tonight!”

 

The two men leap to the ring apron with each waving the flag of their home country. The crowd noise reels on and on with no signs of dying down.

 

Riley: “Isn’t that pretty? They’re the regular Allied Powers, all they need is a swank Casio keyboard theme song.”

 

Stevens: “BOBBY! Where the hell have you been!”

 

Riley: “Went for nachos. I knew these drooling yokels would be shooting their loads on CIA for at least ten minutes. You’d think there’s never been a great Canadian wrestler before. Then again CIA isn’t a great Canadian wrestler, maybe they’re just trying to make him feel better about himself.”

 

CIA and ELM hand their flags to a ring attendant and take off their trench coats with the flag patches on the back. They hold the coats up to the crowd to receive one last pop and then hand those off as well.

 

Stevens: “There’s no denying the love these loyal fans have for their local hero, which also extends to Magnifico who is beloved the world over. Sorrowfully, poor Ced has to deal with the overrun of Frost’s hatred.”

 

Riley: “Teaming with Frost is the only worthy thing Ordonez has been involved in since he first laced up a pair of boots. If he lets Frost carry him, he just might…ooo….ooo… HOT CHEESE…HOT CHEESE!”

 

Bobby Riley fans his flaming tongue from the nachos he brought to the table and the bell sounds.

 

DING DING DING

 

Referee Anthony Michael Hall signals for each team to pick their starting man. Ced steps forward and Frost puts a hand on his shoulder to pull him back. He gruffly smacks Ordonez in the corner and wags a finger in his face.

 

Stevens: “A little argument between the strange bedfellows on who will start. Ced looks to be deferring to the Icelandic Iceman, but not too happily.”

 

Riley: “Frost is a two time tag champ, follow his lead here kid.”

 

Stevens: “Ced is a tag champ himself and won those belts off of Frost and TNT.”

 

ELM sees that Frost is starting and nods his head to CIA to say that he’ll take him on first. They circle each other and Hall stands back to observe the action.

 

Riley: “Then Frost and Flesher won those belts back off of Francis and Ordonez when they became vacated. Not to mention that the Velvet Hammer took the Hardcore title away from that Filipino fool as well. It must be odd for Ced NOT riding the job train for once.”

 

ELM charges without reservation at the much bigger man and dives at his right ankle. He tugs at Frost’s leg as he glides past and flips him over to his back.

 

Stevens: “Dragon screw leg whip by Magnifico to start. Frost climbs to his feet, but the World Champion tries to keep him in check with a wristlock.”

 

ELM snags the wrist as Frost stands and twists it. Frost flinches from the pain and swings his beefy arm around to send ELM flying out of the hold into the ropes. Magnifico takes the cords in the back and twists and he bounces off to cartwheel into a spinning heel kick! Frost puts up his hands to block, but still takes the brunt of the move in the chest and stumbles into the ropes. Magnifico regains his footing and scores a front facelock on the off kiltered Icelander. He tows Frost with him as he backs up to the near corner and ascends the turnbuckles with sure-footed speed!

 

Stevens: “The Luchadore twists for a tornado DDT…no, Frost stalls the hold with his bulk and keeps ELM in the air with a waistlock!”

 

Frost spins in the direction of the momentum ELM already had building and squeezes the man’s waist while hoisting him higher to fully break the facelock. Frost throws his weight forward and slams Magnifico down with a ring shaking spinebuster!

 

Riley: “Frost has faced both CIA and ELM recently in several tag and singles matches. He knows everything they’re going to throw at him and like a good NFL defense he can adjust to any offense he’s seen once.”

 

Stevens: “But that also means that ELM and CIA have seen Frost’s arsenal and can counteract his as well.”

 

Riley: “They don’t have football in Canada and Mexico, it’s not the same.”

 

Frost picks the Mexican marvel up by the shoulders and turns to stand back to back with him while grapevining both arms.

 

Stevens: “They have their own football league here in Canada!”

 

Riley: “If you want to call it that.”

 

ELM dangles dazed off of Frost’s back. The volatile wrestler twirls around in a circle, one, two, three, four, five times. He cuts his next rotation short and flings the World Champ off his back to go hurling like a discus across the ring. He crash lands on his back, but the pain is far from over! ELM woozily opens his eyes to see a thick thigh plummeting toward him!

 

Stevens: “Spinning leg drop caps off the airplane toss slam. Lateral press for the cover!”

 

ONE

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

ELM slaps a leg over the nearby rope and Hall calls for the break. Frost rises from Magnifico and stretches out to tag Ced. Ordonez glances briefly at the hand and then jumps off backwards from the apron to the floor! A mild cheer comes from the crowd and Frost screams red faced over the ropes at Ced. The camera zooms in on Ordonez as he points up at Frost in the ring.

 

“You wanted to start, you can just keep going then.” Ced barks.

 

Riley: “Of all the two faced crap…you worried about Frost leaving Ced out to dry. You’re about as good a judge of character as Nixon.”

 

The camera refocuses on the ring just in time to see Magnifico surprising Frost with a dropkick to the back! He falls into the corner and bangs his chin on the top turnbuckle. ELM wraps his arms around Frost’s left shoulder and skips off the mat to cross his ankles around the left one. Magnifico jerks back on the crucifix pin to put Frost’s shoulders to the mat!

 

ONE

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

Stevens: “Frost rolls through to his feet for the break…but ELM takes him down with a back heel trips as he springs up.”

 

Magnifico keeps using his cat like reflexes and agility to skip over Frost’s body to deliver a leg snap. The Icelander groans in pain and holds his wrenched leg. The Luchadore points at his corner to elicit a pop and then slaps hands with his friend and partner to drive the fan noise up to deafening levels.

 

Stevens: “That’s exactly what the crowd wants to see.”

 

Riley: “Why don’t I ever get what I want to see?”

 

Stevens: “Greasy half naked men aren’t enough?”

 

CIA lays Frost flat and then lines him up for an elbow to the knee. The agent takes Frost by the shoulder and pulls him up while staring at Ced, who has returned to his post on the apron.

 

Stevens: “There looks like there might be some animosity still lingering from Smarkdown between CIA and Ced.”

 

Riley: “Perhaps animosity Frost can still use in his favor, to put Ced and himself on the same page.”

 

CIA peppers Frost with forearm shots to the face and chest to keep him reeling. He grabs his wrist and swings around to build leverage before whipping Frost hard into the corner. He whacks the top turnbuckle in the chest and ricochets off. The Carnie dives with a low dropkick to the back of the knee and Frost tumbles into the corner and strikes his face on the second turnbuckle.

 

Riley: “And I think Frost wants to build some teamwork here. The word on the street is that Tom Flesher specifically arranged this match in order to teach Frost a lesson in being a team player.”

 

Stevens: “Who are you, Huggy Bear?”

 

Frost pulls himself up by the top rope and CIA cinches a rear waistlock while the giant is still hunched over. He bends his knees to German suplex Frost, but he’s a little too much weight to handle and the Mag 7 member shocks the Canadian with a hard elbow to the temple. He falls with a thud like a sack of rocks and Frost goes down to one knee to relax his punished left leg.

 

Stevens: “Frost desperately needs a tag, but will Ced take it this time?”

 

Riley: “If he doesn’t want to be taking all his meals through a straw for the next six months.”

 

The fans roar to rally their man and CIA clips Frost’s good knee to knock him over on his face. He scrambles up his back and clamp in a sleeper, but Frost powers up before he can lock it in tight and staggers like a drunk into his corner to brush against Ced. Hall points to the corner to signify a tag and CIA releases his hold.

 

Stevens: “I don’t think that knee was as damaged as the Midnight Carnival thought, but sound strategy by CIA in trying to keep Frost grounded.”

 

Riley: “Smart strategy that allowed a tag. Frost is never as down and out as he makes you THINK he is.”

 

Ced grabs the top rope with both hands and vaults into the squared circle. He signals for a lockup with the still relatively fresh CIA. The Canadian accepts the challenge and they clinch with a collar and elbow tie-up. The two jockey for position and CIA begins to gain momentum, forcing Ordonez to back up and into a corner. Hall calls for the two to break their lockup and counts. One, two, three, and CIA cautiously backs away from Ced without incident.

 

They reset in the center of the ring and Ced begins to get pushed back again, but resorts to a front facelock on CIA as they fall back into the opposing corner. Hall seems a bit frustrated in their inactivity as he uses his refereeing powers to get the two to back away again. CIA backs away but gets kicked in the thigh by Ced, eliciting a few boos from the crowd as CIA retracts his leg and backs away, a bit miffed.

 

Stevens: “A bit of a cheap shot from Ced, of all people. It seems that either he’s on edge with his unlikely tag partner or a bit of Frost may be rubbing off on him.”

 

CIA shakes off the pain from his leg as his eyes focus solely on Ced, who actually looks a bit smug as he steps out of the corner. They tie-up one more time, and Ced pulls CIA in with a headlock. Ced grinds his forearm against the red maple leaf on CIA’s mask until the agent pushes him off and into the ropes. Ced bounces off them and explodes with a high kick that whiffs and allows CIA to deliver a spinning heel kick that strikes Ordonez as he turns around.

 

Ced is quick to recover to his feet and charges at the Canadian but gets armdragged back onto the mat. Ced seems flustered as he props himself back onto his feet and charges yet again this time taking a back bodydrop, getting lightweight elevation before plummeting onto the canvas below with a loud thud. He clutches his back as CIA looks to the crowd with a grin on his face. The agent does a little jig and throws back some imaginary Molsons as Ced wobbles back onto his feet. The crowd begins to flitter in anticipation. Ced angrily glances at Frost before turning around and….HOO!…eating a big Canadian Bionic Elbow courtesy of CIA. The crowd pops like mad as Ced drops like a stone before bailing to the outside, slamming his fist down onto the apron. He cocks his head to the side and beholds Frost standing above him, with a seemingly mocking golf clap. He angrily paces away from the Icelander before sliding back into the ring.

 

The Filipino firmly slaps himself in the face a few times to try to regain his focus as CIA points to El Luchadore Magnifico, asking the crowd if they want to see the champ do his thing in the ring. They naturally concur and the Carnies high-five each other and swap places.

 

Riley: “It must be a dream come true for Ced, wrestling the SWF World Champion. Time for Ced to step up and show us that ‘supplemental talent’ has his picture next to it in the dictionary. ”

 

Ced anxiously tugs on the top rope as he stands opposite El Luchadore Magnifico. They circle each other in the center of the ring and lock up. Magnifico goes behind with the hammerlock, but Ced counters with a snapmare. Magnifico rolls through and rebounds off the ropes, hurdling over Ced as the Filipino slides onto the mat. Ced pops up and tries to catch the luchadore with an armdrag, but the champ follows through and counters with an armdrag of his own. Ced rushes the ropes and rebounds off, Magnifico jumping in anticipation, but Ced wraps his arms to delay his attack. Magnifico helplessly lets gravity to bring him down onto the canvas as Ced launches himself and dropkicks Magnifico in the legs as he lands.

 

The champ limps as he tries to retain his balance but Ced keeps on the offensive with a cross body block that catches Magnifico off guard and pins his shoulders to the mat.

 

ONE

 

Magnifico is quick to kick out.

 

Riley: “Incredible! A one count on the world champ! Ced’s gone beyond all my expectations of him in this match.”

 

Magnifico hurries back onto his feet, only to take a roundhouse kick in the shoulder as he makes his way to his knees. He bats away the second kick from Ced, but leaves himself wide open for the gamengiri that smashes him in the face and makes his legs rubbery. With the champ on his knees, Ced measures Magnifico and plants a solid high kick in the Carnie’s forehead. Magnifico flops onto the mat as Ced hesitates and turns around to forearm CIA, knocking him off the apron and earning the normally beloved Ordonez some well-deserved jeers from the normally pro-Ced crowd.

 

Stevens: “The tension seems to be getting to Ced, as he is being much more aggressive that we have seen him on previous outings.”

 

He walks unaffected by the reaction to his own corner and holds his hand up to Frost, asking for a tag. Frost accepts it, but Ced quickly drops it and hits the massive man in the chest with a harsh knife-edge chop. Hall accepts it as a tag, but Frost sees it as more as a fight invitation as he pulls his large frame into the ring much quicker than usual. He towers over Ced, who simply glares at him before exiting to the apron. Frost dares Ced to try to hit him again, but Ced brushes him off, causing Frost to sock him with a hard overhand right, nearly knocking Ced off the apron. Hall restrains an enraged Ced, who furiously tries to reenter the ring, as Frost goes to work a stirring El Luchadore Magnifico.

 

Stevens: “If he’s watching in the back, I don’t think Tom Flesher is too pleased with the ‘teamwork’ being displayed by Frost and Ced Ordonez.”

 

Riley: “Yet they have El Luchadore Magnifico on the ground and in trouble, so the glass is half-full in this case, isn’t it Mark?”

 

The Magnificent Seven member hovers over the Carnie and grabs a handful of hair on the back of Magnifico’s head to prop him up. Magnifico battles back with punches to Frost’s midsection, stunning the Icelander with every blow and eventually causing Frost to lose his grip on the hair of the Mexican. Magnifico makes a break for the ropes and rebounds of them and bounds up for a hurricanrana, but Frost sits down to counter with a powerbomb and holds ELM down for the pin.

 

ONE

 

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

TH-No! CIA slides in and makes the save.

 

Though much too late to intercept CIA, Ced comes in as well and casually kicks his own partner in the head before retreating to the corner. Frost considers rushing and mauling his unwanted tag partner but avoids the digression and returns to the task at hand. The Velvet Hammer props a dazed Magnifico on the top turnbuckle and slaps him for good measure before ascending as well. Frost begins to put his arm around his head, but ELM plugs away at his ribs as best he can. As Frost loses his grip on him, ELM pushes him in the chest, causing the giant of a man to topple backward onto the mat. ELM moves to the top rope and waits until Frost turns to him before taking flight and taking Frost of his feet with a hurricanrana.

 

Frost lies on the mat taken aback as Magnifico lies on his stomach, rhythmically kicking his hands onto the mat to rally the crowd behind him. CIA calls out to his partner and turns to the crowd as well to get them motivated even more. Ced looks on with his hand lazily outstretched as Hall begins to count the double KO.

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THREE!

 

ELM begins to pull himself closer to CIA with the aid of the ropes.

 

FOUR!

 

Frost shakes the cobwebs and crawls to a seemingly indifferent Ced Ordonez.

 

FIVE!

 

SIX!

 

A slap is heard and Hall indicates that Frost has made the tag. Ced jumps in and goes after ELM, but ELM lunges and finds the hand of CIA, bringing the crowd to their feet!

 

CIA and Ced collide, but its CIA’s forearm against Ced’s cheek, so Ced flops onto the mat. Frost charges as well and CIA floors him with a crisp superkick to the jaw. He returns his attention to the Filipino, dazed in the corner, and hits him in the cheek with a forearm. A second shot lands on Ced’s jaw and CIA begins to swing around, but sees Frost charging at him. The agent quickly gets out of harm’s way and Frost smothers his much smaller partner in the corner. Frost turns around only to meet CIA’s Roaring Elbow, sending him staggering into and over the top rope. A winded Ced Ordonez, flops out of the corner swinging and winds up with his back to CIA, who easily tosses him with a released German suplex. CIA looks to the crowd at slaps the turnbuckle, the Hamilton, Ontario crowd cheering loudly in approval. CIA drags Ced into position before climbing the buckles.

 

Stevens: “Ladies and Gentlemen, Air Canada is about to take flight!”

 

CIA looks out to the crowd and prepares to jump off but something grabs his leg. The Canadian looks down to find that something is Frost. CIA tries to swat away the annoyance but to no avail as Frost pulls at CIA’s leg causing him to slip and effectively crotching him. The deflated crowd hisses out of spite, being denied at seeing their hometown favorite pull off his spectacular finisher.

 

Riley: “Ladies and Gentlemen, Air Canada has been grounded due to Frost.”

 

ELM comes to the aid of his fallen comrade and attacks Frost as he tries to reenter the ring. The big man reels as he takes shot after shot from the Magnifico. ELM’s arm suddenly gets jerked back and he glances back to see Ced as the offender. He swings with his free arm but comes up empty and catches a knee to the gut instead. Ordonez pulls him back and looks to the crowd, but only seeing angry glares, diverts his eyes to the mat as he hoists ELM up into the air with a gutwrench powerbomb. Upon the apex, Ced quickly drops to his knees forcing Magnifico to slam onto the mat with a sudden snapping motion.

 

Ced quickly rolls Magnifico onto the apron as CIA manages to pull himself off of his precarious perch. Ced rolls him to his feet and goes to the side with a waistlock, but Frost slaps his hand around the Canadian’s throat. The two verbally demand that the other mind their own business as CIA gets pulled back and forward between the quarreling duo. Ced pulls CIA upward trying to get his backdrop as Frost pushes forward with a chokeslam. The resulting impact knocks the wind out of CIA as Ced rolls on top of him.

 

ONE

 

 

TWO

 

Stevens: “Oh, come on!”

 

THREE! The crowd boos loudly in disapproval as Hall gives the signal to the timekeeper.

 

DING DING DING

 

Funyon: “Here are your winners, the team of Frost and Ce-“

 

Before Funyon can finish his announcement, Frost quickly yanks Ced up and destroys him with a wicked Hell Freezes Over clothesline.

 

Riley: “Well, just a small price to pay for an actual victory, eh, Ced?”

 

Frost looks down and a hurting Ced Ordonez before rolling out of the ring to heavy jeers from the Canadian crowd.

 

Stevens: “Frost and Ced Ordonez with the victory and Frost quickly dissolved that alliance once the win was in the bag.”

 

Ced rolls onto his stomach and curses at the departing Frost before glimpsing back CIA and ELM, who both angrily look at Ced. Realizing the tension in the ring, Ced departs to the back as well.

 

Riley: “Seems like Ced’s walking on very thin ice with his quest for a title shot, and not just with Frost…”

 

Stevens: “Fans don’t go away! It’s Orochi and Alex Zenon for the ICTV title! And it’s coming up soon!”

[Guest BA_Baracus]

“And welcome back to SWF Storm!” Says “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens as he looks into the camera with a smile. “We’ve just seen one great tag match, and we are about to move onto the main event between Alex Zenon and Orochi for the ICTV Title. Now-”

 

“Please Mark, don’t say anything.” Interrupts Riley, “We all know that you are just going to damn that fantastic new talent Orochi and give the biggest Carnie flop since Spark (and mind you, Zenon just got REINDUCTED) a verbal blowjob.”

 

“Better than giving the real thing, Bobbie.”

 

“No, it isn’t better tha-HEY!”

 

“Anyways, Orochi and Zenon have never actually faced each other in the SWF, but after Orochi’s turn on Ced Ordonez, you have to wonder how Ced’s former tag partner really feels about Orochi.”

 

“He won’t be feeling anything, Mark. He’ll job in ten seconds to a backdrop and become the Bobby Backlund of the SWF.”

 

“Riley, how about you just shut your mouth for a m-”

 

Suddenly, the SmarkTron springs to life, showing a trio of people quietly tiptoeing through the stark white halls of the Victor Copps Coliseum. The crowd cheers as they recognize who they are: The kooky Canadian CIA, the Hardcore Queen Annie Eclectic, and last but not least, the World Champ El Luchadore Magnifico!

 

“It’s the Carnival! It looks like they’re up to something!” Says Mark, the grin across his face a mile wide. They duck and run from box to box in the cluttered hall, hiding in wherever they can, followed by the loyal cameraman Gus. They quickly dash over to one of the bigger boxes, and the camera squishes right up into Annie E’s face.

 

“Gus, watch out! You’re gonna give us away.” She whispers as the cameraman backs off and wipes the smudge off the camera lens. They go a little further down the hall, until they come to an intersection where a dopey looking security guard stands. CIA looks at Annie. “Fish.” Annie looks back at ELM says “Fish.” ELM looks at her and shakes his head. Annie relays the message to CIA, shaking her head as well. CIA rolls his eyes for a moment, looks back at the guard, and looks back at Annie. “Donut.”

 

Annie looks back at ELM, and repeats it. “Donut.” Searching into his pockets, he produces a sprinkled chocolate donut, which is passed up to CIA. The Canadian Super-spy places the little pastry on the ground and gives it a good, healthy roll. It goes past the guard, and the blatant stereotype of all law enforcement immediately declares “Food!” and waddles off after his prey. Using the distraction, the Carnival dashes past the intersection unnoticed the like fun-loving prank ninjas of justice they are.

 

“Classic Carnie stealth operation if I ever saw one, Bobbie. They are doing everything by the book.”

 

They sneak down the hall a little further, and they reach their destination: The Victor Copps Coliseum Owner’s Box. The crowd gives a big pop as they quietly open the door inward….

 

 

 

 

…. And reveal a darkened room only lit by a small desk lamp at the end of a massive board table. At the lamp sits the one and only Suicide King, his feet kicked up on the table and the Ace of Clubs resting on his shoulder. Next to the suit-wearing villain at the head of the table is the massive Hville Thugg, tied to his floor-welded chair with rope and gagged at the mouth. Some cards are laid out on the lighted table and King immediately lays out his cards.

 

“Hey look, I beat you again. Just like in the wrestling ring, eh Thugg?” Says the former Carnie with a sadistic grin. King laughs he as pokes Thugg with his black bat, causing him to struggle against the bonds holding him and say a dozen muffled swear words into the gag.

 

“Ahem.” Says ELM, and King turns around surprised.

 

“Oh, Mags, you’ve finally come! Would you like to join the card game?” He says innocently, and the world champion just stares silently at him. “Well, okay then. But I’m guessing you’ve come for Thugg, haven’t you?” He remarks, getting up and patting the Ace of Clubs in his left hand, and along the way he swipes some of the cards from the table.

 

“King, don’t even try to stop us.” Says CIA, speaking up. “You think you’re the best, but no matter how good you think you are you can’t take all three of us.”

 

King nods solemnly. “Yes, even though I could easily beat your pathetic asses in the ring one on one, I am at a bit of a disadvantage here. I mean, I’m just the King of Hearts-” -King holds up the King of Hearts in his left hand- “-and you guys (and gal, little lady)-” –King gives a little smile at Annie, who no-sells it easily- “-are three of a kind.” The Suicide King flicks his left hand, and he spreads out the Jack of clubs, spades, and diamonds. He looks at the cards for a moment curiously.

 

“Hmm, that’s not right. Wait, I know why now….” He says, and the arena hushes over.

 

“What does that bastard have up his sleeve…” mumbles Grand Slam, and King looks back at the three Carnies.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“… Because I haven’t revealed my whole hand.” The crowd gives more worried mummers as Thugg begins giving muffled shouts at the three do-gooders. “Because it’s not the King of Hearts vs. 3 of a Kind…”

 

*Click*

 

The lights turn on, and reveal Tom Flesher, Frost, Danny Williams, Judge Mental, Ejiro Fasaki, Fugue, and Mercury hiding near the walls in the once darkened room. The camera backs out a little bit, and King gives a knowing smile at the Midnight Carnival. The Gambling Man flicks his wrist, and shows the Ace, King, Queen, Jack, 10, 9, and 8 of Hearts. “…It’s a Royal Flush vs. Three of a Kind.” King smiles as he sits down on the board table, and gives us one last comment before the door slams shut: “I love it when a trap comes together.”

 

Muffled shouts and more banging than a stampeding heard of elephants come from the room as the audience listens intently to the commotion coming from the board room.

 

“Damnit, Brian! You’ll pay for this!” Yells Stevens, and Riley gives a little chuckle.

 

“Yeah, not likely.”

 

“Shut up, Riley, I am NOT in the mood for your crap.” Says a seething ‘Grand Slam’, causing Bobbie Riley instantly clams up. A few crashes come from in the room, which is definitely the sound of breaking furniture. Lots of voices shouting stuff, and the Carnies can still be heard fighting back.

 

Suddenly, the door flies open as both El Luchadore Magnifico and Annie Eclectic rush out, slam it shut, and begin running down the hallway. Then…. They stop. “Where is CIA?!” asks a frantic Annie.

 

CRAAAASSHHHHHHHHHH

 

Their question is answered as CIA goes flying through the door, sending wooden splinters flying in every direction. He lands on the ground and shakes his head, a little shocked, and the other two Carnies pull him up by the arms. Magnifico certainly doesn’t look happy with what’s happened, but he doesn’t have a choice in the matter as the Midnight Carnival retreats to fight another day. As the Carnies run off, Frost looks out through the shattered door frame, panting hard, but he gives one of his twisted smiles. The camera looks back into the room, and we see a few of the Magnificent 7 getting off the ground, and Suicide King gets off the top of the now busted-in-half table, where he has been sitting for the whole fight as a happy spectator. He walks over to Thugg and taps him on the shoulder with the Ace of Spades.

 

“Thanks Thugg. I knew you’d be useful for something. Who thought it would be for Carnie killing?” Flesher quickly walks over to King before Frost can turn around and whispers to him “So it’s set now: I get my World Title shot, correct?” King looks at Frost, then looks back at Tom and responds “I don’t have a problem.” He looks over at Thugg. “And since you have him, I don’t think Stubby will have a problem with is either.” With that, the camera pulls back out of the room and we…

[Guest BA_Baracus]

“And that’s all for this week’s Storm.” Says ‘Grand Slam’ about to close out the show. “From the SW-”

 

But before the show can go off the air the SmarkTron turns on again, and this time the picture fades back into the board room that was nearly destroyed before. Stubby, Suicide King, and Tom Flesher stand there, with the Hville Thugg tied up between them. The former World Champ isn’t in all too good condition, a few visible cuts and bruises on his face, and God knows what under the ropes. King gives a smile to the camera as he twirls the Ace of Clubs around in his right hand, and it’s quite easy to see what happened to the mammoth man. Stubby clears his throat and speaks up.

 

“Well, through the efforts of one fine young man, we have finally captured this wild beast which has plagued me since last May. I don’t know how many times I can thank you.” Boos rise up from the crowd as Flesher graciously bows and talks.

 

“Mr. Commissioner, it was certainly hard, but through my able planning and persistence in capturing this menace I and the Magnificent 7 members under my leadership deserve a reward.” The crowd boos, and Stevens speaks up about this farce. Stubby looks at him and says “Don’t worry; you’ll get your title shot against ELM at SWF No-Sells Christmas.”

 

“I can’t believe this! This is so wrong; I can’t put it to words!”

 

“I can, Mark: Flesher World Title Reign!”

 

As Flesher and Stubby shake hands, but as they do, Orange Pyros shoot up from the stage and “Mission Trip To Mexico” by Bunch of Believers comes over the speakers to signal the arrival of El Luchadore Magnifico! The crowd explodes into cheering as the totally legal Mexican immigrant bounds down the stage with the Mexican Flag in his right hand. While the crowd cheers for him, he doesn’t really respond to them; if looks could kill, Mags would have been a mass murderer. He slides into with the flag, and raises a mic to his mouth.

 

“FLESHER!” He yells, and Tom turns to the camera again.

 

“Oh, ELM! How nice see you here. Did you here about me getting my title shot?”

 

“Yeah, esse, I heard, and I have something to say about it.” The crowd pops, but Flesher stops him from continuing.

 

“But you see, Mags, that’s the best part. No matter what you say, I’m getting my shot!”

 

“Don’t call me Mags, and I still have something to say about your shot. Chico, I saw how you got your shot. You weren’t even THERE when they got Thugg. Me? I had to fight Thoth and Breggan to get my shot. I EARNED it, esse. All you did was watch from your comfy chair from a distance. I’ll give you this, though: You acted pretty brave when you had us outnumbered 2 to 1. I mean, you were just right in there when you had your lackeys next to you.”

 

“Mags, these are just the bitter remarks of an old loser. I mean, do you remember how I beat you for the Light Heavyweight Title? It was mano-a-mano, and I won.”

 

“It was Flesher’s specialty match, you can‘t hold that against Mags.” Says Stevens, but Riley rebuffs it.

 

“Of course you can. It’s a loss, isn’t it? I mean, if Tom Flesher had lost his US Title in a ladder match to ELM, you’d still count it.”

 

“Look, esse, this isn’t about wins or losses anymore. This is about you and me. I’ll fight you at Armageddon. I have no problems there. But I want one stipulation.”

 

Flesher gives a leery eye at the camera, unsure of what Mags has up his sleeve. “Okay, Mags, what do you have? I’ll beat you just the same.”

 

“I said don’t call me Mags! Flesher, I want a cage match. You, me, and no one else, Chico. You have NO idea how much I want you, Flesher.”

 

“I’m sure you do Mags, and you got it. This is gonna be just like Ground Zero all over again. Hey, you want to come over my apartment again? We can have a few drinks and talk about me taking your title like last time.”

 

“You keep thinking that, senor. We’ll see come PPV night.” With that, the World Champion walks off, and Tom Flesher leaves the board room as well, not looking all too happy either.

 

“Well, there you have it! The Main Event of the PPV has been decided! Now signing off for the SW-” Begins Mark, but the SmarkTron hasn’t turned off yet.

 

“Well, now…” Says Stubby, looking at the bruised Thugg. He pulls the gag out of the giant’s mouth. “What to do with you.”

 

“Untying me, muthaf***a. That’s a start.” Stubby walks over and unties a few of the knots, and the beat-up former champ is now free. “It’s not like you’re really here to hurt me… even if you could.”

 

The mammoth Thugg frees his arms and looks at Stubby through swollen eyes, then at King, flashing a knowing smile and chuckling. Thugg groans and drops his head, feeling beaten and lifeless after his run in with the Magnificent Seven…

 

Thugg shows his resilience, not backing down to Stubby, not now, not ever, “Oh I could, but look where we are, Stubby… I’m alone with you two, tha decision makers around here. Stubby, let’s talk, me and you… about my contract yo.”

 

Stubby sighs and looks out the window, “Not easily swayed I see… still the same old act first, think second Thugg I’ve grown to loathe. Never a dull moment, eh…”

 

“Whatever yo, I ain’t got time for your hippie mind games… you gonna talk contract, ‘cause fo’ real, I got other shit to do.”

 

Stubby glances to King, both of the grunt out a short laugh, “We both know that’s not true Thugg, so don’t kid yourself… BUT… I’m not totally without heart, as you may think, truly, I’m not.” Thugg leers at Stubby, not buying into his act of innocence. “I mean, I hate you, and would like nothing better than to see your balls strung up on a pole somewhere.. But, I’m in a giving mood tonight ‘yo’. Seeing as how you are hell-bent on returning to the SWF, and I’ve always listened to what the fans want… so it seems that no matter what, I’m not going to be able to show you that you aren’t wanted here… I figured I’d let an old friend show you… eh?”

 

Stubby stuffs his hands in his pockets and turns himself around, as from the corner of the room, where he has been hidden by the shadows, out steps… Bayawolf. The crowd seems somewhat confused as the masked figure stands a few steps behind Stubby, his blue eyes glaring at Thugg, wanting nothing more than to tear him limb from limb right now, but Stubby holds his hand up, telling him to stay put. Thugg looks at Bayawolf, unimpressed, then turns back to his captor.

 

“Him? Who the fuck is ‘dis?”

 

“You don’t recognize him, Thugg? Oh how easily we forget our old friends, yeah? Would you rather he took his mask off, to give you a better look?”

 

“Forget our friends? Maybe you should listen to your own advice, because you seem to have forgotten, who kept control of this fed for you…”

 

“Come on Thugg, you sure you don’t remember him? He used to be very close to you… but someone who saw you for who you really are… and someone who was always loyal to me, unlike some big black bastard I know.”

 

Thugg turns away and mutters, “Get to the point cuz… I don’t wanna grow old here.”

 

“Fair enough, fair enough...I think you'll remember this guy from a one May evening...I believe your last memory of him was with his foot in your ass…” Stubby turns to Bayawolf, “And I’m sure the events of last month haven’t escaped your mind too easily…” Stubby glares at Thugg, “You didn’t think he would be back, did you? You thought you had done a mighty good number on him, but no dice, he’s come back, and he told me, the only thing he wants, is you, one on one…”

 

Thugg looks at Bayawolf, who closes his eyes and runs a finger down his mask, grimacing at the pain. Thugg opens his mouth, finally coming to the realization, looking down at the floor…

 

Thugg looks back up, angered, “This is your answer? This is all you've got for me? So, what...what's the deal? I gotta whoop his ass one more time to get a contract? Ok, fine...let's go...”

 

Thugg rises from his seat, ready to pick a fight. Bayawolf stands his ground, prepared for anything, but Stubby pushes Thugg back down in his seat.

 

“No, no my friend, you’ll get your chance, but not now… let’s say… at Armageddon.”

 

Thugg stares at the three men who surround him, wondering what they have planned for him…

 

Stubby continues, “The way I see it...if you can beat Bayawolf here...who, by the way, has been world champion in your absence, then you can have your contract....”

 

Thugg grins, thinking how easy a task it would be to get his contract back…

 

“In fact, if you win...then I'll come deliver your contract in the ring personally...how's that sound?”

 

Thugg grunts, “Fine...whatever yo...I'll whoop his ass, and then make you kiss mine when you give me my contract.”

 

Thugg scowls, tired of this little meeting, gets up from his seat to leave, but before he does, Stubby calls out, “OH! One more thing...sorry...I forgot...Oh...and this is the good part too. There's going to be a special referee...you know, just to make sure things go smoothly down there.”

 

Thugg keeps his back turned to Stubby, “Yeah? Who?” Thugg turns back, wondering what the commissioner has up his sleeve…

 

Thugg waits for Stubby’s answer, but the answer comes from across the room.

 

“Me.”

 

Thugg’s eyes widen as he slowly turns to the Suicide King! King smiles and cross his arms, as Stubby watches Thugg…

 

The Hville monster looks down and tries to comprehend the events, slightly worried, only slightly, but still appearing as un-phased as ever, walking up to Bayawolf, “Yo...I swear...nah, nah...whatever yo...you know what, it's cool. I'm gonna blast Baya...Boza...whoever the hell you are these days...”

 

Thugg walks up to King, looking down on the heart breaker, “Then, I'm gonna cram my foot so far down King's ass, he'll be tasting the sole of my boot yo. Then, you're gonna give me my goddamn contract. And I'm serious Stubby...I want you on your knees with my contract. If i go through with this.... and when I win...you will give me my contract...on you knees bitch.

 

Stubby seems unwavered by Thugg’s heroic stance, “I’m sure you will Thugg, just one incy little thing...I'll also be there as a special ring announcer!”

 

Thugg turns away and walks to the door, sighing as his problems mount up against him, “Fine yo...I ain't even trippin’ off you...cause you too scared of me anyway to do anything.”

 

Stubby smirks, “Hey...I'll just be there to call the shots and get a good seat to watch Bayawolf make you his bitch”

 

“We'll just have to wait and see about that…” Thugg says as he opens the door halfway, only for Stubby to stop him yet again…

 

“Oh, and it would be in your best interest to stay away from the arena on Smarkdown...wouldn't want a repeat of tonight and you not be able to compete on Armageddon...because this is the only shot I'm giving you. “

 

Thugg leaves the board room, leaving his three enemies behind him, silently standing there, watching Thugg walk away…

 

“See you there…” Bayawolf remarks, as the Storm logo appears on the bottom right of the screen, and the picture fades to black, ending the show…