FROM THE FIRE 2003!!!!

March 17, 2003

Voiceover: "Pepsi Max brings to you..."

A flaming FtF logo appears

VO: "SWF From the Fire!"

With that, we come to Telewest Arena in Newcastle, England as massive flaming explosions erupt upon the stage!

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The final explosion dissipates, revealing the image of a burned out city. The cameras fly around, showing the frenzied sold out crowd at one of the year's biggest shows. Signs of, "Bring Back Bo, Show Wrestling Fuckers, Mag-7: Made in Heaven and ELM 4-Life!," are briefly shown. We then cut to...

Stevens: "Welcome to SWF From the Fire! It's the third annual showing of this event and my god do we have a card lined up for you tonight!"

Riley: "Tonight, after toiling in the low-card, in the SJL, TNT realizes his dream after winning the greatest Clusterfuck in recent memory. Tonight, TNT gets to face the man deemed undefeatable for the SWF title. TNT, a man who has made his name not in the IGNWF like your favorite "completely legal" Mexican immigrant, but in the SWF, gets a chance to hold the title belt coveted by more men than this shows three hours would permit me to name. Tonight, TNT takes on El Luchador Magnifico to see who is the best in the business today."

Stevens: "Yes, a true born SWFer gets his title shot, but in a strange twist of fate, tonight, a man who has not graced a wrestling ring or a television screen in over a year makes his return. We've been, well, forewarned I guess, of his coming for the past two and a half weeks, and tonight, he makes his SWF debut. A legend of the IGNWF, a man that's been a World Title contender more times than ELM has been a Light Heavyweight Champion, the Jungle King himself, Neilsen returns tonight!"

"RRRROOOOOOOOAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!," blasts over the loud speakers and the crowd explodes!

Stevens: "And he's coming out here to start the show!"

The opening chords of Guns and Roses’ “Welcome to the Jungle” start to play. The crowd is still on its feet as the cheering continues.

Riley: "Is it...is it really hi-"

The entrance curtain waves and out comes the living legend, the Hardcore King in a leather jacket, blue jeans, black and brown shoes and a black t-shirt with his name across it in silver. The cheers grow even louder as the King moves along the stage, pumping his arms, drawing in the energy of this crowd and sending it back out, causing the crowd's frenzy to reach a fever pitch, practically blowing the roof off of the arena. He continues to draw in their cheers as he makes his way down the ramp. The man climbs up the ring steps, enters the ring, runs across to the opposite turnbuckles and starts drawing in more cheers as he points to the crowd and then back to himself. He jumps back, turns in midair, bounds to the center of the ring, beats his right hand against his chest three times and then throws his fists high to draw on the loudest cheers so far.

Funyon tosses a microphone to the man with the short brown hair, smooth skin on the sides and scar within his left eyebrow. The man's hand snaps out, catches the mic, spins it around to his lips and shouts...

NSN: "Just in case you've forgotten, let me tell you just who in the hell I am! I...AM...NEILSEN and you can bet your ass I'm back! And I am the guy, that tonight, officially enters the SWF!"

And the crowd goes funkin' wild!

NSN: "Okay, some of you may not know me and that's your f**kin' problem, not mine! I am Neilsen, the Hardcore King, the Hardcore Icon that made a name for himself and made the careers of more wrestlers than this federation currently has!"

Neilsen starts pacing around.

NSN: "When I left, this federation was known as the IGNWF and I, Neilsen, was the f**kin' franchise! It shouldn't even have surprised anyone that once I was gone, once I had what was apparently my last match, the IGNWF died without me. I was in the IGNWF from it's damned inception as a legitimate Federation and I was the only man who stayed, who wrestled all the way to...it's...f**kin'...end! And now! Now...heh...now I hear things about this fed, this federation, this place that before, heh, I was never a part of, this fed is dying, struggling for breath, killing itself from within with hostile takeovers and Lord f**kin' knows what else, and like a cool breeze, no, like a f**kin' hurricane, a tropical f**kin' storm, Neilsen is here to change the whole f**kin' landscape!"

The fans cheer again.

NSN: "I have comeback to this federation, what used to be the IGNWF, and guess what?"

Neilsen slowly turns, pointing at the crowd and they rise in a roaring wave once he's directed toward them.

NSN: "It looks like my f**kin' Pack's come back with me!"

The people go absolutely nuts!

Stevens: "Riley! Can you believe it Riley? Can you believe that the Jungle King is back!?!"

Riley: "I can't believe he's actually gotten more popular since he's left. Don't these people realize that he's just another asshole with an over-inflated e-"

Neilsen points at the crowd and then at the camera as he shouts...

NSN: "Well f**k all of them and f**k you too!"

The crowd turn on Neilsen almost as fast as he turned on them. A few hardcore fans still cheer. Two or three perhaps.

NSN: "F**k you! That's right! I stayed in this fed. I swallowed my pride, (To the fans' incredulous stares), that's right, I swallowed my f**kin' pride by staying here! I gave you my blood, your blood, my opponents' blood, (Neilsen points at Riley), and even his blood time and time again, and what the f**k did I ever have to show for it! Nothing! I won a Hardcore Gamers Title on my own f**kin' merits! I won the ICTV Title on my own merits, in a f**kin' ladder match with two washed up f**kin' losers you people looked up to named Fallout and f**kin' Outcast! Christ, the only damned good thing that has even happened to this fed since I left is that Outcast's bitch has f**kin' died! She was such an ugly whore that I wouldn't even let my dog have his way with her, and even if I did, that mangy f**kin' bastard would still turn her down. But I won title after title after title after title and I even won the f**kin' tag team titles in a handicapped match...and Lord knows, he f**kin' knows you little pieces of sh*t, he knows that no one can be more handicapped than when they have Perfect Bo as a partner. But all of this, all the stuff I f**kin' earned, all the vile remnants of a vaginal discharge I passed on my way through the IGNWF, all of almost two f**kin' years of my life, MY F**KIN' LIFE! My life! As in a greater, more important life than any of you illiterate pieces of flying monkey dung will ever hope to know...two f**kin' years equaled one thing for my career. In two years, two years of beating everyone I had ever stood across that ring from, Stevens, Riley, Bo, Comet, Hville, Outcast, Spike, the whole f**kin' sh*tload of them, I only was only given one World Title match!"

Neilsen pants as the passion leaves him breathless. The fans start chanting, "Bull Shit! Bull Shit! Bull Shit!"

NSN: "...oh...sure...you can look at my history at say, 'Why Neilsen, I know I'm only a mildly retarded dyslexic with Tourette’s Syndrome that thinks the King of Hearts is the greatest heel ever because I don't know any better and I thought saying so would get me free tickets, but I think you've had more than one world title shot.' Well, my misguided mildly retarded constantly swearing dyslexic friend, technically you'd be right...if you consider competing with five other guys for that title to even qualify as a f**kin' shot! If you consider having a World Title match with a, a gaggle of f**kers, a match where you can actually win the title by eliminating people over the top rope to be a match worthy of your time, time you spent in this f**kin' fed! They put me in the ring with guys like Edwin MacPhisto and Fallout, had them competing on the same f**kin' level as me for I title I earned my very first f**kin' night in the IGNWF dammit! Guys I had deserved to be above since I either had beaten them or since I had been at the top of this fed longer than they had been in it and the Junior League combined! Sure, Edwin might've been a slightly f**kin' decent mid-carder, but at that time I had already destroyed legends, former World Champions and he was there after one good match while I had been in f**kin' hundreds of 'em! The only match that even qualified for me was the one against Divefire and if Sacred hadn't interfered that damned title would've been mine! If you saw it, you would f**kin' know! If I hadn't been saddled with the Lightweight belt, he never would've shown!"

Neilsen's visibly shaking.

NSN: "I was the only man to ever leave the JL with a title, be stripped of it and win a WF title in the same night. I was hand picked by the owner to be the only JLer to be in the Corporation and I was the star! And all this amounted to jack sh*t because CC then and probably even the f**kin' CC now can't stomach me... And...heh...and you know what pisses me off the most? You know what's brought my hatred to it's f**kin' peak? You know what made it so I can't stomach each and every single one of f**kin' you...heh..."

Neilsen wipes the sweat off his forehead.

NSN: "I...I almost f**kin' killed myself for you. I put on my last match, the greatest non-Pay Per View match you've ever seen, I lay it all on the line, I win the Perfect f**kin' Challenge and...and what do I see when I finally recover? What do I see after I'm finally in shape to return? Heh...I...I...I f**kin' see your Hall of Fame... I look, and I see...I see Jayson Grant, the owner, my former boss...fine...he f**kin' started it, so, I'll let that slide. I see Rane...okay...fine...he's the one man I can say I never managed to beat...not that I ever got the title shot against him that even he admitted I f**kin' deserved...but for that, he'll slide... I see Stubby...heh...f**kin' Stubby...the only one around here with any f**kin' balls... I'm fine with him just because he was able to piss you sh*ts off so f**kin' well, and he was able as commish to treat you exactly the way you deserved to be treated after the injustice I have recently seen, the injustice that I will make perfectly clear... But...but...but I see Cyclone f**kin' Comet! A man in f**kin' spandex and a mask! A man that wears a cape! A man I beat! A man that only won one freakin' title, a tag title that he needed Rane to win!?! His only f**kin' claim to fame was as a JL World Champion where he ruled with an iron fist...because he was there the longest and didn't f**kin' deserve to be called up and his damned career proved it! Maybe if I put on a cape and a mask and called myself Captain F**knut, you'd all be singing my praises... 'Oh my god, Cap'n F**knut is the greatest! He stayed in the JL almost as long as Xero and their careers are almost identical!' Cyclone Comet made a career off of a gimmick. I made a career in spite of a gimmick. I made a career by having the best match of the night whether it was against Rane or Crucifix Phoenix. And he's in the Hall of Fame!?! Next thing you know, Hville Thugg will be in there...Evil Thug, how f**kin' witty...and I'll still be out despite the fact that I pinned him when he was champion in a handicapped match, and even though he was partners with Bo in that, I had the f**kin' handicap! All I know is I sacrificed my time, my life for this federation only to see a masked man who put in a fourth of my time in this f**kin' sh*t pass me by..."

Neilsen lowers the mic and glares at the crowd. Some people actually look scared. He slowly raises the mic back up.

NSN: "...and I know that each and every single one of you are to blame. I know it's the fans that make the ultimate decision. And that is why I will never forgive a single f**kin' one of you. I gave up my life for you and got nothing in return."

Neilsen stares at them.

NSN: "You make me f**kin' sick."

Neilsen lowers the mic and appears ready to walk away.

He quickly raises it up one last time.

NSN: "But I am back to prove you f**kin' wrong. I am back to win my World Title, the title that should've been mine since I beat Spike the night I joined the IGNWF so long ago. Before all is said and done, you will have to admit, even though you already f**kin' should, but you will admit that I am the single greatest wrestler this federation, this f**kin' sport has ever seen..."

Neilsen lowers the mic for a spilt second.

NSN: "And do you know why?"

NSN: "Because..."

NSN: "I AM Neilsen of the Mother F**kin' Jungle! You can't beat me! You can't outfight me! You can't outthink me! But...YOU...WILL..."

Crowd: "FEAR M-"

NSN: "Shut the f**k up! This isn’ta game, this is war mother f**kers and you…you…you…"

Neilsen eyes burn into the very souls of these fans.

NSN: "You will fear me..."

NSN: "Heh...roar mother f**kers..."

With that, Neilsen drops the mic, exits the ring and walks up the stage and past the curtains as the crowd is stunned into silence.

Stevens: "W-wow...how...how do we follow that?"

Riley: "With the arrival of the SWF’s newest Junior League graduates, Mike Van Siclen and Janus in a match of grand and unique proportions. The first ever Iron Australian Knockout Challenge and it's next!"

March 17, 2003

... A rivalry that transcends into a new era ...

... A hope for a better future ...

... Striving to make their mark ...

... Aspiring for glory ...

... One strives for dominance ...

... The other hopes for survival ...

... Their fate will be determined in twenty minutes ...

... This era begins tonight ...

March 17, 2003

The beat of “Paint It Black” by The Rolling Stones echoes from the speakers as the SWF's long awaited "From the Fire" Pay-Per-View comes on air, complete with the arena filled to the maximum with screaming Brits and tourists, the cheering and whooping intensifying as the camera pans over the fire-gutted decor. The camera finally pans down to the ringside area to catch everyone's favourite ambigiously gay commentator Bobby Riley and his partner, the man everyone loves, 'Grand Slam' Mark Stevens!

Stevens: "Welcome, everyone, to one of the Smarks Wrestling Federation's most popular pay per views ever, "From The Fire! The lineup tonight is incredible, with the main event being two consecutive falls for the World Title, between our longest reigning champion of all time El Luchador Magnifico and the explosive Taylor Nicholas Thompson!"

Riley: "Damn Carnie better lose his title tonight, he stole it from Flesher!"

Stevens: "Perhaps, Riley. Speaking of Flesher he and Frost take on the tag team of Justice and Rule - Judge Mental and Ejiro Fasaki! And not to mention Frost has a one on one match with one of the most grizzled veterans in this federation.....Neilson of the...."

The crowd chips in with a loud "MotherFUCKING!!" yell.

Stevens: "...Jungle!"

Riley: "The Magnificent Seven always wins, Grand Sham, don't forget that! Flesher will show Justice and Rule how hard he is! .....mmm......hard."

Stevens: "And our first match of the night is pitting our two newest bumpees against each other!"

Before Riley can reply, the four quick cymbals and even quicker guitar riff that signal the beginning of Dark Tranquility's "Damage Done" echo in the air before the song blasts through the arena, causing the fans to alternately burst into cheers and boos. The jacket-wearing form of Mike Van Siclen steps onto the ramp, his arms extending in a bent crucifix shape - no neck brace this time. As he spins cockily on the ramp, Funyon lifts his microphone, calling out the match.

Funyon: "The following contest is an Iron Australian KNOCKOUT Challenge!"

The microphone is then passed to referee Eddy Long, who explains the stipulations of the match.

Long: "One can only score points by knocking out the opponeent or forcing them to exit the ring. Between knockouts is a two minute break, and the winner is the person with the most points....or, if someone can not answer the bell after the break, they lose!"

Funyon takes the microphone back as Mike finishes spinning around the on the ramp with a madman's grin, and begins to strut towards the ring. He slides in and shucks off his jacket as Funyon introduces him...

Funyon: "Introducing first, from Harrison Illinois! He weighs two hundred and thirty seven pounds...he is the Spectacular One.......Mike......VAN......SIIIIIICLEN!!"

The crowd seems undecided whether to cheer or boo the bumped Junior Leaguer, as he lifts his arms in the air before leaning against the turnbuckle and listening to the crowd. The camera view switches back to the commentator's position where Riley and Grand Slam analyse the just-bumped superstar.

Stevens: "Mike getting a mixed reaction here. He got a lot of heat in the Junior Leagues - a long standing superstar with a good history..."

Riley: "And a cocky smartass to boot! I love the cocky smartasses."

Stevens: "....Riley, don't ever say that again..."

Eddy Long steps by Mike to ask him a quick question about his neck, which Mike shrugs off with a small snort. Suddenly, the arena is plunged into darkness, and the crowd alternates between cheers and whoos as their only light is that of the Smarktron, which shows the image of a young man, with his hair recently dyed white. As the strains of Fear Factory's "Resurrection" echo through the arena, cracks slowly begin to weave through the image, and blue pyros start fountaining up on either side of the ramp. Before Funyon can speak, the voice of Burton C. Bell carries through the arena.

"Consumed with memories...

That preceded today...

Given a chance to bereave..

Life that's slipping AWAAAAAAAAAAAY!!"

As the heavy riffs roar out of the speakers, the crack-riddled image explodes into fragments, revealing the face of Janus as he is now, with a scowl on his face. His name flashes up in green text, and it proceeds to play clips of some of his more brutal spots - interspersed with flashes of his name and "Magnificent Seven", as the giant steps out onto the rampway, lit only by a spotlight as Funyon lifts up his microphone.

Funyon: "And his opponent, hailing from Sydney Auuuustralia! He weighs three hundred and fifty pounds, and was previously the sole Junior League Magnificent Seven member....he is the Hell Machine....he....is....JAAAAAANUS!"

The crowd, those that follow the JL, are booing muchly as Janus stalks down to the ring, each set of blue pyros going out as he walks past them. He stares through the darkness at Mike and climbs into the ring slowly, and Siclen slides out of the ring and just smiles in the dark as the giant throws his arms up into the air, and pillars of blue fire explode from the turnbuckles. The lights come back on as Janus stalks the ring like a monster, staring a hole straight through Mike.

Stevens: "Christ almighty, I don't think I've seen someone as big as that besides Thugg!"

Riley: "And he's affiliated with Flesher, so he promises to show a lot of finesse in this match!"

Stevens: "He looks more like a rough type to me....."

Riley: "Just as good! Things are fun when rough!"

Stevens doesn't dignify his ambigiously gay cohost with an answer, and the camera goes back to the ring as Mike Van Siclen slides back in, and he and Janus stand there and stare at each other. On the Smarktron, Mike's face appears in the lower right, and Janus' on the upper left, each with the numeral "0" inscribed next to it. Eddy Long looks between the two superstars, who only have eyes for each other....and the bell rings!

*DING DING DING - and a clock appears on the Smarktron, denoting just how much time is left in the match.*

And neither man moves a muscle for several moments, before they slowly begin to circle each other with the trained ease of knowing how their opponent works. Janus cricks his neck with a faint wince, and Mike claps his hands together in anticipation....and they lock up with the traditional collar and elbow tieup, that Janus wins through sheer might as he pushes Mike halfway across the ring, almost straight through the ropes. Catching his balance, Siclen climbs to his feet and looks at the seven footer, who stares back at him.

Stevens: "They lock up to start the match, and Janus easily wins the exchange through sheer force! Both of them seemed to know it too!"

Riley: "I guess they know each other intimately from their Junior League days, the way they're looking at each other!"

Stevens: "Wouldn't surprise me, Bobby...."

Janus and Mike circle each other slowly once more, and then the giant charges across the ring. Instinctively, Mike goes to execute a drop-toe hold, but Janus slows to a halt and lifts his leg, before driving a painful looking boot into his opponent's stomach, making Mike roll away towards the ropes and clutch his abdomen. Shaking his head as if to say 'you haven't learned', Janus drags Mike by the hair and whips him towards the opposite ropes. When Mike comes back, Janus lowers his body in preparation for a backdrop, but telegraphs it too early and Mike slides down and hits the big man with a sitout jawbreaker!

Stevens: "Janus dodges the drop-toe hold but falls victim to a sitout jawbreaker after trying to backdrop Mike out of the ring!"

Riley: "If that loser exits the ring in any way, it's a point for the big guy, isn't it?"

Stevens: "I believe so..."

Riley: "Woohoo!"

Straightening after the jawbreaker, Janus rubs his chin as Mike pops up and nails a stiff right hand, that the giant grimaces at, head shifting a little - and planting a hand on Mike's face, the giant shoves him away again - and Siclen stumbles backwards. Seizing the moment, Janus charges in and lifts his leg, absolutely flooring Mike with a vicious boot to the face! Siclen falls to the ground, holding his face as the giant gives no respite and continues to stomp his boot into Mike's ribs and stomach. Trying to escape, Siclen starts rolling away, but freezes when he finds himself half-under the bottom rope. Mike clings to the rope in order to prevent further stomping - and Eddy Long makes Janus back off...and Siclen starts getting back to his feet.

Taking the opportunity, Janus lumbers towards the opposite ropes and rebounds, lowering his shoulder to slam MVS all the way to hell with a Gore. But the wily smaller man dives out of the way - but rather than fly out of the ring, Janus puts on the brakes and skids to a halt, ending up half-out of the ring...and he straightens himself up on the apron. Long considers, then doesn't count the apron as 'ring out'. Mike gets back to his feet and turns around - and a giant hand wraps around his throat!

Stevens: "Janus saves himself from falling out of the ring through sheer luck and now has Mike by the throat!"

Riley: "That's one POWERFUL man right there...and he's Magnificent Seven material too!"

Stevens: "The question is, what's he going to do?"

Mike struggles, but Janus holds him at arm's length with the chokehold on - so all of Mike's kicks and punches hit nothing but thin air. The giant hoists Siclen into the air, balancing on the apron...and turns around, chokeslamming him out of the ring and clean to the floor as the bell rings!

***

Janus: 1

Mike: 0

Time Left: 18:00

***

On the floor, Siclen twitches and slowly rolls onto his stomach, before getting on hands and knees and shaking his head fiercely, before crawling for the apron. Janus climbs back into the squared circle and lifts his arms in the air, inciting boos from the crowd as behind him, Mike puts his hands on the apron and closes his eyes, trying to concentrate on only one thing - defeating Janus. Kipping up to his feet and hesitating only a moment, Mike dives under the bottom rope and lunges at the giant. Janus senses movement, but Mike executes a perfect chop-block to the back of his leg - causing the seven foot behemoth to topple over backwards.

Barely clearing the giant's falling form, Mike springs up again despite the pain that is racing through him from that chokeslam, and immediatley begins laying the kicks into the giant's right knee. Janus arghs and rolls away, and Siclen follows, and the giant kicks with his left leg, driving a great boot into Mike's stomach. Reeling back and gasping, Siclen can only watch as Janus grabs the ropes and begins climbing back up to his vertical base, limping slightly on his right leg.

Stevens: "Janus gets the first point by ejecting Mike from the ring! He spent a bit too much time not focusing though, because Mike was quick to capitalise on the giant's inattention! I think Janus should've known better!"

Riley: "Janus is Mag Seven! Janus is power! Janus is might! Janus is se....anyway, he's got the power to make it through anything Mike throws!"

Stevens: "Take away any big man's legs and very easy to get on his back!"

Riley: "Mmmm....men on their backs."

Stevens slaps his forehead and grumbles something about never saying comments like that again. The camera goes back to ringside in order to view both Janus and Mike as the giant finally gets away from the ropes and crouches slightly, leaning on his left leg in order to keep the pressure off his right. Slowly, he and Siclen circle each other, and the giant motions for a test of strength. Lowering his right arm, he keeps his left up in the air, wiggling his fingers. Siclen edges forward, lifting his hand up towards the giant's...

...their fingers almost touch...

"OOOH! I WANT THEM WIGGLING FINGERS!" shouts Riley, being gay... very gay.

...but Mike drives a stiff kick into the giant's knee, and Janus scowls in pain, limping back. His other hand lowers from where it had also gone up in the air, and the giant flexes his fingers with a grimace as he holds his knee.

Stevens: "Neither man to be trusted with that lockup! Mike kicked Janus in the knee, and the giant looked ready to try for another chokeslam!"

Riley: "He'll manhandle Mike like nothing else if Siclen keeps up his pussy attacking!"

Mike runs to the opposite ropes, and clutching his sore knee, Janus looks up just in time to get a spinning wheelkick to the jaw that sends him off balance, stumbling back against the ropes. Grabbing the giant's arm, Mike irish whips him across the ring and flexes his muscles, and as the giant comes run-hobbling back...Siclen scoops him off the mat with an argh and nails him with a powerslam! The crowd 'oooo's at this feat of strength, and Mike drops to his knees, rubbing his arms at the physical exertion as Janus sprawls on the canvas. Kicking the giant in the knee again, Mike rolls him over and straddles the giant's back, grabbing his hands!

Stevens: "This is the setup for the Cardinal Sin Clutch! Mike HAS made Janus tap to this move before!"

Riley: "Pffft, you got bad info! Janus has never tapped to someone like Mike!"

Stevens: "Have you even checked your tapes, Riley?"

Riley: "....I don't need to."

Mike straitjackets Janus' arms around his throat, but before he can lean back, the giant comes to life, and pulls his arms free. Rather than stay on the giant's back, Mike rolls off, and as the giant regains his feet, Siclen runs to the ropes! Spotting the smaller superstar coming in, the giant reaches out with both hands to grab and lift...but Mike avoids Janus' hands and swings around behind him, wrapping him in a waistlock. Siclen's attempt at a german suplex fails miserably as the giant leans forward.

Siclen tries again, with the same results. Janus grunts and refuses to budge, and suddenly - Siclen strikes with a stiff kick to the back of the giant's knee...and Janus' leg crumples...Mike heaves back and manages to lift the three hundred and fifty pound behemoth up and over, driving him down on his head with a strained german suplex! The crowd 'whooooo's at this and actually starts cheering.

"GO SIC-LEN!"

Stevens: "Mike drops Janus RIGHT on his head with that german suplex!"

Riley: "It'll take more than that to take down the giant!"

Eddy Long checks to see if Janus is out cold, and the giant shakes his head slowly, grimacing at the pain throbbing in his skull. He slowly begins to get back up, as Mike climbs to his feet as well after the exertion of that german suplex. Inching around so he's behind the giant, Siclen waits for the monster to get back to almost vertical....and lunges forward to cinch on a crossface...

...and pulls the giant straight down on the back of his skull with the Crossface Halo! Janus arghs and clutches his head, grimacing in pain. Mike straightens up and leans on the turnbuckle after the exertion of taking down the giant Twice, as Long checks once more on Janus' head - and for the second time the giant shakes his head and refuses to stay down on the ground. Turning his head to keep an eye on Siclen, who lounges in the turnbuckles, Janus slowly begins to rise back to his feet. Mike just smirks as the giant hobbles on his right leg, holding the back of his skull with a hand. Mike hesitates a moment before charging out of the corner again...and using one arm, Janus drags Mike off his feet and twirls him around before planting him with a painful looking whirl sideslam! Janus instinctively goes for a pin that Mike kicks out of, and Eddy Long shouts out "Knockouts Only!" to remind the giant about the match stipulations.

Dragging Siclen up by the hair, the giant holds his opponent there for a moment, then lifts his hand and delivers a painful looking knife-edged chop that sends Mike reeling and the crowd 'whooooooo!'ing. The seven footer keeps delivering with his chops, slamming his great hand into Siclen's chest pinky-side first. All Mike can do is clutch at his chest in pain before Janus grabs an arm and hooks Mike's head, before hoisting him off the canvas and driving Siclen down shoulder-first into the canvas with a single arm DDT! Mike grabs his shoulder as the giant rolls away to get back up.

Riley: "That big hunk of meat is bringing it to Siclen, Grand Spam! Nothing Mike has done can keep Janus down on the mat!"

Stevens: "I hate to agree with you Riley, but you're right. Mike has won before, but this match seems biased towards his opponent..."

Riley: "Oh, come on. Like we book matches biased towards the bad guys?"

Stevens rolls his eyes as Janus flexes his arms, and as Mike gets up, he finds himself lifted high off the ground in a gorilla press! Holding Siclen above his head, Janus pumps his arms a few times...and Siclen slips out behind him and drives yet another kick into the back of the giant's right knee! Arghing in pain, Janus crumples and leans forward, and Mike leaps at the opportunity to cinch an arm around Janus' head. However, the giant was waiting for this, and despite his sore leg, he grabs Mike around the waist and lifts him up over his shoulder in the setup for a high-angle spinebuster! Siclen struggles, shaking his head....and Janus spins around before planting Mike into the canvas with a thunderous high-angle spinebuster! Siclen screams and clutches his neck, struggling to get back up after the impact on his still-not-quite healed vertebrae.

Stevens: "That looked PAINFUL! If I remember rightly, Janus came close to breaking Mike's neck when he won the title, and the giant has no qualms about trying to do it again tonight!"

Riley (giggles): "This promises to be fun!"

Riley tries to start a "Break his Neck" chant with the crowd, but everyone ignores the announcer as Janus sets his eyes on Siclen, trying to focus despite the aching pain in the back of his head. Watching Mike get back up, Janus charges in and extends his arm for a lariat! Despite the pain in his neck, Mike sees it coming and ducks the lariat, running for the opposite ropes! Both superstars bounce back towards each other, and Siclen leaps into the air and locks an arm around Janus' head, spinning around for what looks like a tornado DDT....

...but stunningly, Mike lands on his feet again after spinning around the giant's body, and spins himself around to grab a handful of white hair....

...before dropping Janus facefirst into the canvas with the Code Red! Janus jerks when he hits the ground, the pain invading his head from all angles as he sprawls on the canvas. Eddy Long drops down by the giant and checks to see if he's conscious...and the giant twitches and begins to rise to his feet once more! Mike stares in surprise at this, holding the back of his neck with both hands for a moment before smirking and playing to the crowd who are actually cheering him, and he wraps his arms around Janus' body, attempting to lift the dazed behemoth off his feet.

Riley: "Is he trying to break his back or something?"

Stevens: "I dunno...but.....he's GOT Janus off his feet!"

Riley: "What the !?!?"

Straining at the stress on his arms and shoulders, Mike can only hold Janus in the air for several long, precious moments....before slamming him back into the canvas with the Van Slaminator! Janus arghs and crumples to the ground as the pain echoes through his entire cranium, and Eddy Long drops down once more to check the sprawled giant as Mike slumps on the ropes, rubbing his shoulders vigorously. Long lifts up Janus' arm once.....nothing. Twice......nothing. Third time....and he turns around to the timekeeper and waves to ring the bell, not noticing Janus lift his arm back off the canvas!

****

Janus: 1

Mike: 1

Time Remaining: 14:00

***

Riley: "Hey! Janus wasn't out cold!"

Stevens: "He stayed out for the check and that's all that counts, it seems. Long made an honest mistake!"

Riley: "Honest, my ass!"

After the bell has rung, Long makes sure Mike gets back to a corner and stays there for the one minute break period, as Janus shakes his head and starts to get back up. Long steps back to keep both of them in his line of sight as Mike rests in the corner and the giant seeks to find his feet, only getting up to his knees when the referee signals for the match to restart. The bell rings and Mike rockets out of the corner...

...as Janus sees him coming despite the disrupting pain in his skull...

...and the giant lunges forward, stopping Van Siclen dead in his tracks with a thunderous standing Gore, driving his shoulder right into Mike's ribcage! The giant goes down to hands and knees thanks to his right knee, grimacing and squeezing his eyes closed, trying to focus the pain out of his head. His opponent sprawls on the canvas clutching his ribcage, wheezing in pain, both of them within an arm's breadth of the ropes.

Janus shakes his head vigorously, and half-rising, he sits right down on Siclen's abdomen, causing the smaller man to gasp in pain, and the giant latches a hand around Siclen's throat, lifting his head off the canvas.....before drilling it back down into the mat with a punch! Watching Mike's head bounce off the mat, the giant smiles bleakly - and proceeds to drive punch after punch into Siclen's face from the mounted position! The crowd starts to boo this as Janus smiles grimly, finally stopping and rolling off Mike to use the ropes as a means of getting up.

Stevens: "Janus mounts Mike right there and pulverises the HELL out of his face with punches! And I think Mike's still conscious!"

Riley: "He used the mounted position! Ooooo!"

Stevens: "Not a further word, Riley. Mike appears to be still conscious, though!"

Groping around like a fish out of water, Mike Van Siclen finds the ropes, and begins to use them to get up as well. His face looks battered and bruised, and with all the blows, appears to be cut open around the forehead! Blood runs down into Siclen's eyes as he rises groggily, grimacing in pain and wavering on his feet. Across the ring, Janus flexes one gloved hand, clenching it into a tight fist and measuring Siclen's position, taking one slow step...then another...and Mike turns around, and the giant lets loose with a punch. Just not any punch, the sheer force and power of the blow is shown as the giant's fist streaks through the air, seeking contact with Mike's face...

...and not striking him as Mike, despite the agony in his body, drops under the blow, and swings his leg out in a groggy legsweep that connects with Janus' right knee! The giant arghs in pain and drops to his left knee as his right crumples, and running on adrenaline and little more, Van Siclen pushes himself up and grabs the giant's head, and slams him face-first into the canvas with a two-handed facebuster! Falling backwards, Mike rests his upper body under the bottom rope as Janus sprawls on the canvas, lifting his hands to clutch his head in pain.

Stevens: "Janus tried to demolish Mike with a punch straight from hell, but Siclen ducks it and counters with a facebuster!"

Riley: "They're both out and on their backs though! Neither man looks like he can win from this position!"

Stevens: ".....Indeed, Riley. Both of them have taken a lot of punishment so far in this match, and it's gotta go on for a full twenty minutes!"

The crowd starts up some inarticulate chanting for both superstars, around the lines of "GET UP NOW!" that echoes throughout the arena as everyone picks up on it. As if reacting to the fans, Mike and Janus groan and try to drag themselves up. Holding onto the ropes, Van Siclen pulls himself up on the apron as Janus gets up on one knee, planting one hand on the ground. The giant grunts and pushes with his arms, forcing himself back up to a standing position as Mike balances on the apron.

There's a pause as both superstars find their bearings, Janus clutching his skull and Mike pressing a hand to his chest. Modifying one of his own moves, Van Siclen squints and concentrates, then leaps onto the ropes and nails a springboard dropkick into the ring - as opposed to out of the ring - right into Janus' chest! The giant reels back, but Mike sprawls on the ground, gasping at the impact of landing on his back. Recovering, Janus spots Siclen's predicament, and after catching his breath, the giant steps forward...and flings himself into the air for a standing legdrop...and the impact shakes the ring, Mike's cry of pain making the crowd BOO tremendously as Janus drops three hundred and fifty pounds right on Siclen's throat.

Stevens: "LEGDROP! Janus tried to break Mike's neck with that legdrop!"

Riley: "And Mike's not moving! Heehee! Go Magnificent Seven! GOOOO JANUS!"

The giant rolls away after hitting this legdrop, and Eddy Long drops down to examine the limp body of Mike Van Siclen. Janus climbs up in the turnbuckles, leaning against them as Long lifts Mike's hand once....and gets no response as it drops to the canvas. A second lift, and an equally negative response. The crowd begins a chant, trying to get the smarmy once-heel bastard back onto his feet.

"COME ON MIKE!"

Riley: "I wouldn't mind...."

Stevens: "Don't EVEN say it, Riley."

Long lifts Mike's hand a third time....and the willful superstar keeps his arm in the air, despite the physical agony that Janus has inflicted upon his throat! The giant raises his eyebrows at this, slowly stretching his arms and crouching as he measures the grounded Siclen. Seeing Mike barely able to move, let alone get off the ground, the giant turns around and begins slowly ascending the turnbuckle, preparing to demolish his rival once and for all. As he perches on the top rope, his right leg slips, and the giant pauses to reassert his position, grimacing at the pain in his battered leg.

Rolling onto his stomach, Mike lifts his head off the ground and sees Janus crouching on the turnbuckle. He pants and shakes his head to clear it of oxygen-starved pain...and Janus, seeing Mike is beginning to get back up, forestalls his attempt at a high flying move and begins to climb down. Siclen has other plans however, and desperately, he lunges to his feet, throwing his arms out to yank the ropes! Unable to keep his balance, Janus falls straight down onto the turnbuckle and crotches himself, with a very pained expression upon his face. Both superstars look near ready to pass out where they are - Mike slumped on the ropes and Janus on the turnbuckle - but Mike, it seems, doesn't want to quit. Shaking off the pain in his chest and throat, and using the ropes as guidance, he staggers over to the turnbuckle Janus is on and begins to climb it, coming face to face with the crotched giant.

Stevens: "And both superstars are on the top! Mike saved himself from whatever Janus was going to do, with quick thinking, and now he's joining Janus on the turnbuckle!"

Riley: "Janus has balls of steel, there's no way he'd be badly affected by that!"

Stevens: "Riley....don't ever....EVER....say 'balls of steel'....near me again...."

Driving a few punches into Janus' face, Mike hooks the giant's head with a hand and signals - to the cheering crowd - for the Code Red! Shifting to keep his balance, Mike prepares to execute the move...when Janus headbutts him in the chest! Siclen arghs and almost falls, but the firm grip Janus locks around his throat prevents this, as he pulls Mike upright on the top rope, and begins to stand for a top rope chokeslam! Driving his fists into Janus's battered noggin, Siclen struggles out of the chokeslam, and both superstars balance dangerously on the top, and Mike rears back and slugs Janus in the chest,causing the giant to start to fall!

In seeming slow motion, Janus begins to slip off the turnbuckle, but one great arm locks around Mike's arm as he falls, and the giant pulls Mike Van Siclen with him...

...cameras flash like wild in the stands as the two superstars fall off the top rope...

...and hit the thinly padded ground around the outside, Mike bouncing as he lands on his back, and Janus crashing down straight onto his face! Eddy Long leans out of the ring and surveys the wreckage of bodies with a sigh. Lifting his hands, he waves to the timekeeper and indicates the out-of-ring superstars, and the bell rings to signify the change in points!

***

Janus: 2

Mike: 2

Time Remaining: 7:00

***

Stevens: "Both men going for high risk moves off the top and sacrificing themselves and any advantage in the process!"

Riley: "They're right here in front of us! Damn, Janus looks in bad shape..."

Stevens: "So does Mike..."

Riley: "Pffft! Who cares about him! Janus, Janus! You okay!?"

Neither the Spectacular One nor the Hell Machine responds, sprawled on the ground, both their chests heaving as they seek to overcome the agony of falling off the top rope like they did. Blood runs from Mike's split open forehead, and Janus rolls onto his back to show that his head is also busted open from the impact, blood staining his white hair a more sanguine hue.

After a long pause, both bodies stir, Janus blinking slowly as coherence comes back into his green eyes, the latest Magnificent Seven addition to the SWF presses his gloved hands to his face, and then looks at the blood staining his fingers. He slowly sits up, looking towards Siclen who is still on the ground, writhing a little in pain, and nods to himself. Rolling onto his stomach again, the giant gets up onto hands and knees, and crawls towards the apron.

Riley: "Goooo Janus! You're bigger, you're better, you're hotter than Mike ever will be!"

Stevens: "....ah.....Hotter, Riley?"

Riley: "Yeah! What's wrong with calling him that?"

Stevens: "........."

Still on the ground, Mike flops like a fish out of water, still scrambled, but able to garner the strength and energy to roll onto his stomach and also make a crawl for the ring. Given their tired and battered states, the motions of Janus and Mike Van Siclen are almost synchronised as they put their hands on the apron and slowly push themselves up. Mike begins to climb in under the bottom rope, while Janus grabs the top rope and heaves himself up onto the apron, stepping over the ropes - stumbling on his feet a little, the giant staggers towards one of the turnbuckles and slumps in it, supporting himself with his arms. After pulling himself into the ring and sprawling for several moments, Mike Van Siclen pulls his own battered body up into the turnbuckle opposite Janus', both superstars staring across the ring at each other with dazed, bloody expressions.

Up on the Smarktron, the clock clicks over to five minutes, and it is to this the two superstars' gazes are drawn. They stare up at the Smarktron as the timer counts from 5:00...4:59...4:58....and their eyes go off it.

Both superstars stare at the points they've accumlated. Mike Van Siclen, two points. Janus, two points. Time seems to slow down dramatically as this hammers its way into the minds of both superstars.

They were as even. And this would be the tiebreaker.

Both superstars seeing things in slow motion, they turn their eyes from the Smarktron to stare at each other, blood dripping from both Janus' grim looking face and Mike's barely coherent one. Seemingly on some sort of same page, both superstars lift their fingers to signal 'two' to each other. A slight smile curls on Mike's features. Janus clenches his fist and draws his thumb across his throat. There's a pause where time seems to resume its normal flow...

...and exerting every ounce of power they have left, ignoring their pain, Janus and Mike push themselves out of their corners and charge at each other like a pair of duelling rhinos! Both with arms outstretched, their hands come together as with grimacing snarls, the two battered and weary superstars lock up for a test of strength!

Stevens: "Look at the EXPRESSION on their faces! I think they just got their second winds! BOTH of them!"

Riley: "Even I can feel their intensity! They both just sprung into action like this was their last chance for wrestling each other!"

Stevens: "Janus and Mike have had some serious battles over the title! Both men want to prove that THEY are the superior wrestler!"

If it had been any other time in the match, Janus would've won the test of strength easily. But the time had been hard on him nd Mike, and as they grappled, their adrenaline made them very much even. Tensing, Janus attempting to dig his feet in and shove Siclen back, but at that moment his battered right knee flared up in pain...

...and in a scene no one ever thought they would see, Mike Van Siclen forces Janus to his knees in the test of strength! Despite the agony in his knee and the pain still throbbing in his skull, Janus attempts to struggle to his feet, as Mike tries his best to hold him down. Glaring at his opponent, Janus tilts his head back...and blasts Mike in the face with a thunderous headbutt! Siclen arghs and lets the giant go, staggering rback and holding his nose, leaning in the turnbuckle again. The giant gets back up, shaking his head at the hard impact that made.

Across the ring, Mike takes his hands off his bloody nose, grimacing. Again, he and the giant size each other up, and Janus pushes off with his good leg, charging towards Siclen with intent to kill. He lowers his shoulder in preparation for a crushing Gore, but Mike falls to the ground and twists the giant's bad leg with a drop-toe hold that makes Janus fall to the mat - and slam his forehead into the middle turnbuckle!

Stevens: "Janus trying to capitalise, but all these shots to the skull Can't be good for him!"

Riley: "Mike's gotta be in worse condition! Janus is bigger and stronger!"

Stevens: "Mike scored one of his points by knockout. Janus got one by throwing him out of the ring, and then they both fell out! Mike hasn't been dropped on his head as much as Janus!"

Siclen gets back up, looking at the giant sprawled face-first in the turnbuckle. He signals to Long, who comes over to check on the giant. The referee lifts Janus' arm to check for a knockout as Mike limps over to the opposite corner and appears to work on the second turnbuckle. The crowd isn't sure whether to boo him for this, but over in the other corner, Long lifts Janus' hand for the second time - and the giant grabs the top rope, pulling himself to his feet! He has a vicious look on his bloody face as he turns around to look for Siclen, spotting him in the other corner. Mike steps out of the corner and lifts his hands as if to say 'come on', and the giant obliges by charging across the ring!

However, before Siclen can move to drop-toe hold position like he'd been planning, the giant grabs his arm! Using his running momentum to spin around his challenger, Janus locks both of Siclen's arms up in a full nelson, and holds him there for a moment to listen to the screams as Mike feels the pressure on his neck. Janus stands for a moment, then drops back, throwing Mike over his head in a released full-nelson suplex....

...and Mike crashes neck-first into the middle turnbuckle - that had been cleared of padding by Mike moments earlier! The crowd booos and goes 'oooo' in pain as Mike crumples to the ground with an agonised cry, clutching the back of his neck and writhing in pain. His apparent consciousness and screaming pain informs both Long and Janus that he's not quite finished yet, and the giant intends to make it just so.

Stevens: "Uh...I really..don't like that look on Janus' face..."

Riley: "He's going to take Mike out! Whoohoo!"

Stevens: "The question is how....."

Leaning down, the giant grabs Van Siclen by the hair, dragging him up to his feet. Mike grimaces in pain, wavering about drunkenly as the giant maintains the grip on his hair, as if thinking. Then he locks Siclen's head under his arm, and hoists him up in a massive vertical suplex! Despite the pain in his bad knee, the giant holds Mike up, determined to make him pay...

...and somehow, with what strength he has left, Mike tips himself out of the suplex and lands behind Janus, blasting him in the back of the knee with a poorly aimed kick! Running on adrenaline and little more thanks to the damage done to his neck, Mike hooks Janus' head and twists around, dropping the giant to the ground with the Russian Roulette! Both superstars collapse, grimacing in obvious pain.

Stevens: "I think both of them have given their all, and it looks like neither of them have the power to break this tie!"

Riley: "Come on, Janus! Get up! You CAN demolish Mike!"

Stevens: "Mike did a lot of work on Janus' leg and head - and the giant made that null by throwing Mike neck-first into an unprotected turnbuckle! I think they're both dead, and there's about one minute left in the match!"

Slowly, with the slow movements of a battered but resilient monster, Janus begins to sit up. Blood stains his face, and pain radiates through his head and body. Reaching out, he grabs the ropes with both hands and begins to pull himself up, balancing unsteadily with one of his legs almost ready to crumple underneath him. Van Siclen stirs slightly, showing that he's still conscious....

...at least until Janus grabs him by the hair and pulls him up, jamming him in a standing headscissors! The giant slashes both thumbs across his throat, and exerting all his power to lift Mike up into Dark Bomb position! Holding his foe above his head, Janus feels his right leg beginning to crumple, and the crowd begins to chant along with the clock.

"TEN!"

"NINE!"

"EIGHT!"

Janus hears this and snarls like an animal, ignoring how his leg is collapsing, and he falls to his knees as he drops Mike for the Dark Bomb, cratering Siclen's skull into the canvas with a thunderous BOOM, before dropping once more to hands and knees, resting his skull on the canvas as the referee lifts Mike's hand once.

"SEVEN!"

"SIX!"

"FIVE!"

He gets no response. He lifts Mike's hand yet again....

"FOUR!"

"THREE!"

"TWO!"

And gets no response. He lifts Siclen's hand a third time and drops it....

"ONE!"

And Eddy Long waves to the timekeeper, who rings the bell with one second left on the clock!

****

Janus: 3

Mike: 2

Time Remaining: 0:01

***

*DING DING DING DING*

Janus lifts his head off the ground as he hears the bell ring, and Eddy Long attempts to assist the giant back to his feet. Janus blinks hazily through the blood in his eyes and the pain in his body as Long lifts his arm in the air. The crowd begins to boo the monstrosity as Funyon stands from his position and lifts his microphone.

Funyon: "Ladies and gentlemen....the WINNER...of the Iron Australian KNOCKOUT Challenge....the Hell Machiiiine.....JAAAAAAAAANUS!!"

The sound of Fear Factory's "Resurrection" booming out over the speakers is possibly one of the sweetest sounds Janus has heard, as he leans on the ropes and looks down at Mike Van Siclen, sprawled on the canvas with a glazed look in his eyes, both hands still holding the back of his neck. The giant leans on the ropes, flipping over them backwards and landing on the ground with a grimace, heading for the ramp.

Stevens: "Unbelievable! Janus pulls out the win with a second remaining after focusing all his attention on Siclen's injured neck for maximum damage!"

Riley: "Bahahaha! I told you he'd win! He's tough and hard, just like Flesher is!"

Stevens: "I might have to concede that point, Riley. He's shown a tremendous display of ability to work through pain..."

Limping up the ramp on his sore leg, the giant stands on the stage, listening to "Resurrection" booming out of the speakers. He turns his eyes back towards the ring where Long is checking on Van Siclen, and thrusts his arms into the air in victory...and blue fire explodes from the ringposts, causing everyone to jump as the lights go out and a spotlight shines down on the victor as he stands on the ramp!

The cameras focus in on Janus' bloody face, as the seven footer continues to stand on the ramp for several moments, before he turns on his heel and stalks backstage, Fear Factory's "Resurrection" still belting out over the speakers as it begins to segue into the chorus.

"All that I know

There was no God for me

Force that shatters all

Absence of humanity....!"

Stevens: "This whole match was INTENSE! We'll be right back after a brief intermission, ladies and gentlemen! We have the Velvet Hammer himself, Frost, taking on the returning Neilsen of the..."

Again, the crowd chips in with "MotherFUCKING!"

Stevens: "...Jungle! It's gonna be a tight match here, folks!"

Riley: "Frosty should win! He has to show Tom he's capable of pulling his weight!"

The camera fades out on the two bantering announcers as SWF From the Fire takes a very brief intermission between its matches....

March 17, 2003

VROOMM!

A limousine revs down the in ramp and skids to a halt just outside the performing entrance to the arena. Most of the important people, read those who belong here tonight, have arrived, but the occupants of this limo seem to be quite sure they fit in somehow. A thumping bass beat shakes the windows, and when the two rear doors open, Fifty Cent can easily be heard blasting from the limousine, no doubt causing the hired driver an earache.

My show, my flow brought me the dough, that bought me all my fancy things…

Typical. Without waiting for the driver, a young man steps out of the open left rear door. He leans in, shouting to be heard over the music.

“Hey bra, just let me handle everything this time.”

Someone says something to him, but the voice is lost in the noise, not that it mattered anyway. The first speaker nods, and then shuts his door, walking over to the entrance to the arena. He’s a good looking kid, all smiles, wearing oversized sunglasses, and Abercrombie and Fitch clothing. He walks up to the door, where Doug the bouncer eyes him.

“You on the list kid?” Doug asks.

“Yeah, dude,” the boy answeres, stifling laughter. “Me and my bro. Look for Kris and Kross.”

“Kris and Kross,” the bouncer repeats. “You’re not on the list.”

“Sure we are, man, you didn’t even look.”

“I think I’d know if you were on my list buddy,” comes the reply. Doug crosses his arms in front of him, dangling his clipboard slightly, as the man sighs dejectedly.

“Well dude, maybe you’ve heard of my good friend, he should be on the list.” The kid reaches into his pocket, digs around, and then raises his brows in eureka. “Ah yeah, here we go.” He hands a wadded up green print to the bouncer, who accepts and unfurls it, only to glare at the kid in disgust. The kid shrugs. “I’m sure you know my buddy Lincoln!”

“Lincoln?” Doug asks, annoyed. “Never heard of him.”

“But he never travels alone, dude,” the kid says now, eager, if not desperate. He searches his pocket again, this time, sure of his quest. “He has two buddies named Washington.” Then he hands two other wadded up bills to the bouncer. Yes, he did just try to bribe Doug with seven dollars.

“You’ve got to be joking,” Doug says, shaking his head. “I don’t see no Washington, or Lincoln. And I definitely don’t see no Kris or Kross.”

“Dammit!” the kid says, and smacks his own forehead. “Stupid, stupid me. Can you check again, man, we’re supposed to have an appointment.”

By this time, the other person in the limo has gotten out to see his compatriot’s progress. Doug glances down at the list again, and then looks up, only to wonder what in the hell is going on. Standing before him is the same kid he was just talking to, only now that kid is joined by another young man. That’s not the part that makes him wonder. The part that makes him wonder is that the two men’s faces look exactly alike. Not almost exactly. Exactly alike. That’s enough to make him do a double take. The second brother laughs.

“Dude, Kross, did you just try to get by this guy on seven dollars.”

The first one, now identified as Kross, shrugs. “I was just trying to hook him up with Lincoln and Washington, bra.”

“That’s so lame,” the second one says, chuckling. He reaches into his pocket. “Why didn’t you introduce him to Benji.” And with that, he hands a crisp one-hundred dollar bill to Doug. The bouncer looks left, looks right, and then accepts.

“I think that guy is on the list,” he says shadily. “Why don’t you fellas come right in?”

Kross looks at the second man and smiles.

“We are SO in!” he exclaims triumphantly.

“Of course we are!”

“Good thinking Kris. Always introduce people to Benjamin, wherever we go.”

The second man, now identified as Kris, nods.

“I’m the brains of the family, and you’re the brawn.”

“Maybe, but I’d say we’re both the looks.”

They stare at each other for a few seconds, mimicking facial expressions and then shrug.

“I am SO hot,” they both say at the same time, to the disgust of Doug.

“You guys wanna keep it down,” he says. “I really don’t want to lose my job tonight.”

“Your secret is safe with us,” Kris says, clapping Doug on the shoulder with one hand, and then holding out his other. “After you my handsome younger brother.”

“Why thank you, my equally attractive older brother.” They slide past Doug, and go into the building, stifling cheers the entire way in.

“We are SO in!”

“I know. We rock the house in so many ways.”

Doug pockets his hundred and seven dollars and shakes his head.

“Well… that was interesting…”

March 17, 2003

... His path of destruction speaks for itself ...

... His victims speak his name in terror ...

... His carnage unforeseen ...

... His impact long prophesized ...

... He now faces a legend ...

... Who's more than ready to re-establish dominance ...

... Eyes of ice ...

... Roar of fire ...

... Clash of giants ...

March 17, 2003

After a brief advertisement for SWF Thugg Wear, SWF’s From the Fire comes back to the action!

Riley: “That was without a doubt the greatest Iron Aussie Knockout thing-a-ma-jigg…um…well, that was the greatest whatever the hell that was in SWF history!”

Stevens: “No doubt about it. We were privileged to witness two of the very best the SJL has to offer in a match that was quite…unique…to say the least. Those two are a fine addition to our roster. But you know what’s next Bobby?”

Riley: “What’s that?”

Stevens: “The return of-“

Riley: “Fuck!”

Dweezil Zappa’s “Frost wants to kill your momma” starts to play and the crowd starts to voice their disapproval. Surprisingly, a few fans do cheer.

Stevens: “That’s impressive.”

Riley: “What?”

Stevens: “The fact that the Iceman from Iceland is actually building a fan base.”

Riley: “Why the hell would that surprise you? He’s not just a dominate ICTV Champion but a dominate double champion. You’re just racist against Icelanders.”

Stevens: “I am not!”

Riley: “…fucking bigot…”

As Riley and Stevens bicker like an old married couple, the curtains wave and Frost makes his way out from the back. Any cheers this man’s music received are now all but obliterated from memory as verbal disgust now rains down upon the big man. His ice blue eyes dart about as he smokes away at his cigar. His snow-white hair seems to be beaded with sweat. He proudly has his ICTV strap around his waist while he has his Tag Team title over his right shoulder. Frost slowly climbs up the ring steps, puts his cigar out on the ring post and enters the ring. He then unhooks his ICTV title with one hand and holds up both his titles to a roar of…well…noise as the cheers and boos seem to mix into one. He then hands the belts to the referee assigned to this contest, Matthew Kivell and starts pacing around, waiting for his opponent to arrive.

Stevens: “Is it just me, or is Frost… Doesn’t he… Is he nervous?”

Riley: “No, he probably just has something on his mind, you racist bastard.”

Stevens: “I’m not…Christ Riley…no but, do you think that something happened in the back?”

Riley: “Maybe he just got filled in about Neilsen.”

Stevens: “I don’t think even the self-proclaimed Jungle King could cause Frost to be this nervous… Is something up?”

Well, the answer will have to wait as a pounding smooth rhythm starts to hit the loud speakers. The image of a hand putting on fingerless black gloves appears on the SWFtron. “Can you feel that…” The image of strapping on black knee and elbow pads takes over. “Awww shit.” A man pulls a black wife-beater over his finely toned, scarred chest. “Oooh ah ah ah ah!” Neilsen blasts through the curtains as Disturbed’s “Sickness” plays and the crowd explodes! Images of the Hardcore High-Flyin’ Fuck in action fill the SWFtron screen. Neilsen, wearing black fingerless gloves, black elbow and kneepads, a black wife-beater, camouflage cargo pants and, of course, the requisite sandals flies towards the ring with a chair in hand. He slides into the ring, stands up and faces the man known as the Velvet Hammer. They come nose to nose and Neilsen tries to stare him down. Frost doesn’t back down. Neilsen suddenly turns, runs to the turnbuckles, stands on the second rope and holds up his right hand to now receive a chorus of boos from this British crowd. As he hops back down, Funyon enters the ring.

Stevens: “How could they have cheered Neilsen’s arrival after what he said earlier tonight?”

Riley: “They’re just cheering the thought of Neilsen’s first match in over a year…a match where Neilsen will get his fucking ass handed to him by Frost!”

Stevens: “Why do you hate Neilsen so much?”

Riley: “Where were you during the IGNWF era? Neilsen…Neilsen ridiculed me… I could’ve been the greatest hero these people ever had if Neilsen hadn’t tried to make my career a joke! He-he-he…”

Stevens: “Your career didn’t need his help.”

Rudely interrupting the commentators’ discussion, Funyon is ready to make the introductions.

Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is for the SWF Intercontinental-Television Championship!”

The crowd roars as Kivell holds up the ICTV Title. He then hands it to the timekeeper.

Funyon: “Introducing first, wearing blue with white, the Iceman from Iceland, the Velvet Hammer, the reigning ICTV Champion and one-half of the reigning Tag Team Champions, he is Frost!”

Some people cheer as Frost lifts one clenched fist, but most choose to voice their disapproval for this beast of a man.

Funyon: “And his opponent…(The crowd starts to rumble.)…making his return to the wrestling world and his first appearance in the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation, he is the self-styled King of Hardcore, ladies and gentlemen, this is Neilsen…of…the…Juuunngllllllllle!!!”

Neilsen drops his chair, throws up his arms to draw in a majority of jeers from the fans and what appears to be drops of water fly off his right hand in the process. Kivell calls both men to the center of the ring. He then starts telling them the rules as a ring hand takes Neilsen’s chair out of the ring and drops it by the timekeeper. Kivell turns around and starts to motion towards the timekeeper. Neilsen quickly faces Kivell and pulls a microphone out of his right cargo pocket.

NotJ: “Whoa there K. (Kivell stops and turns around.) Before this match starts, I have something to f**kin’ say.”

Riley: “Of course he does.”

Neilsen turns back to Frost.

NotJ: “See Frost, what I said earlier… When I said that I hated these f**kers out in the crowd, when I said they’d make them pay… When I said I blamed them for my losses, for my lack of a push and for not supporting me… When I basically declared war against the SWF… It wasn’t against you, against these guys in the back… It was against these f**kin’ fans. So, to prove to you that you can this will be a fair, straight-up contest…let’s shake.”

Neilsen has a smirk on his face as he drops the microphone and holds out his left hand.

Riley: “Don’t trust him!”

Stevens: “…I never knew Neilsen was left handed.”

Frost looks around, a little confused. Everything he had heard about Neilsen had not prepared him for this declaration of sportsmanship. The fans start to boo, telling Frost not to do it. Frost smiles and shakes Neilsen’s hand, more to show the fans how little he cares for their opinion than out of any true desire to make this a true contest. The big Icelander looks back at the fans with a gleam in his left eye. If he had looked back, he would see Neilsen slowly grow a wicked grin. Frost turns back, his eyes grow wide as he sees the evil stare of the man behind him and-Neilsen right hand flies out, he wipes the flat of his hand across the ice blue eyes and the big man screams! Frost turns and takes a knee, rubbing his eyes with his right hand while Neilsen still holds his left. Kivell immediately spins around and…

Ding! Ding!

Riley: “It’s on!”

Stevens: “What the hell did Neilsen have on his hand!?!”

Neilsen’s eyes go wild and he starts raining down blow after blow upon the back of Frost’s head with his right hand! Frost falls to both knees, places his right hand on the mat and Neilsen starts stomping away at him while still holding the man’s left hand. Neilsen drops some elbows, one after another across the back of Frost’s neck.

Stevens: “Neilsen’s trying to take Frost out! You can’t aim for someone’s neck like that!”

Riley: “Are you surprised?”

Neilsen laughs as he stands back up. He stomps on the big man a few times more and then hauls him up by his left arm. Neilsen whips Frost into the ropes, Frost rebounds, Neilsen-Hell Freezes Over!-missed by a mile, Frost rebounds again, Neilsen leaps, wraps his legs around Frost’s head, Frost grabs Neilsen’s waist, spins him around one eighty, Neilsen flips backward, lands on his feet and shoves Frost into the ropes chest first. Frost starts to rebound, Neilsen leaps and plants two sandals square to the back of Frost’s head! The resounding smack of skull against sandal against skin reverberates throughout the arena as Frost flies over the top rope, cracking the back of his head against the ring apron in the process before he hits the floor. Neilsen stands and smirks as the crowd boos and Kivell starts to count.

Stevens: “Neilsen’s taken over. I can’t believe Frost trusted Neilsen. Now he can’t even see. If something doesn’t change soon, this contest will be over before it really starts.”

Riley: “Don’t count the F’er out yet.”

However, Kivell is doing exactly that. “Two,” counts the K-man. “Three!” Frost slowly starts to get himself up. “Four!” Frost is blinking rapidly. “Five,” counts Kivell from right next to the ropes. Behind him Neilsen smirks. “Six!” Neilsen hits the far ropes, charges, “Se-,” Neilsen leaps, steps on Kivell’s back, flies over the top rope and crashes down upon Frost! The big man crashes to the ground once more as Neilsen laughs. He grabs a fan’s beer, chugs it and then smashes it back in the fan’s face! Security bolts to the scene as a group of rabid fans start to take Neilsen out. Neilsen turns from them without a care and heads back towards Frost. A fan’s beer goes flying through the air and smashes against the back of the Jungle King’s head. Neilsen roars and looks back at the crowd. He eggs them on and security now has to hold him back as well. Kivell gives up counting as this match has utterly degenerated. Neilsen’s shouting is heard throughout the arena as Frost slowly starts to rise behind the King. Neilsen’s shouts easily reach the ears of Frost. Frost reaches forward and touches the back of Neilsen’s belt.

Stevens: “Neilsen doesn’t even realize Frost is behind him, so enthralled in his dispute with this mass of humanity.”

Riley: “Humanity!?! Stevens, they’re fucking British!”

Frost gets a hand on Neilsen’s shoulder. The Jungler apparently thinks it’s just more security as he doesn’t even bother to look back. Frost makes it all the way to his feet. Neilsen calls a fan a “f**kin’ bobble-headed weeble.” Don’t ask me what that means. I’m just the narrator. Frost grabs Neilsen, spins him around and thrusts his right hand around Neilsen’s neck! Neilsen’s eyes go wide as he starts to gag. Frost hauls the Jungler up, still blinking and-Neilsen’s right knee blasts into Frost’s face. Frost staggers back and puts Neilsen on his feet while still holding him by the throat. Neilsen’s right elbow finds it’s way into Frost’s collarbone. Frost crinkles up and Neilsen’s right foot blasts into Frost’s right knee. Frost bends over and Neilsen grabs his head, bringing it down while bringing his own knee up. A resounding crack is unleashed as Frost goes down. Neilsen staggers back, gasping and clutching his throat with his right hand. Frost starts to sit up, Neilsen swears, charges and smashes a sandal smack into Frost’s face with such a ferocity that the Jungler flies forward and bangs into the ring steps. Frost is out on the ground as Neilsen laughs holding the ring post.

Riley: “Neilsen is beating the crap out of Frost! This never would’ve happened if…(sniff)…oh God, (Riley covers his nose) is that rubbing alcohol?”

Stevens: “Whatever it is, it reeks.”

Neilsen turns back and his bubbling laughter abruptly ends as he sees Frost slowly rising. Neilsen swears and pounds his fist into the steps. He screams at Frost. How dare he get backup! Neilsen turns back, grabs the steps, rips one part free and lifts it up over his head. He roars as he charges the now kneeling Iceman. He swings the steps down and-Frost stops it! He put his hands up and is now actually shoving the steps back, moving Neilsen in the process.

Stevens: “Frost must’ve heard him!”

Neilsen appears to be starting to panic as he keeps getting shoved back while Frost makes it to his feet. Slowly, the steps start moving back towards Frost.

Riley: “Is Neilsen actually overpowering-”

The steps go flying into Neilsen’s face as Frost unleashes the power he had let build. The steps go flying and almost take out the timekeeper. Neilsen is down and out as Frost stumbles, grabbing the ring apron to steady and orient himself. He slowly staggers around, a hand out as he tries to feel around for the Jungle King. Neilsen shakes his head and comes back to consciousness just as Frost is about to touch him. Neilsen scurries around the steps, grabs his chair from the feet of the timekeeper, Kivell shouts, “No!,” as Neilsen roars, charges, steps on the steps, leaps and-steel meets skull! Frost goes down and the chair is bent in half!

Stevens: “Omigawd!”

Riley: “Disqualify him!”

Neilsen smirks at the now downed and busted open big man, but that quickly ends as he sees Kivell headed towards the timekeeper. Neilsen immediately drops the chair, slides into the ring, grabs Kivell and spins him around. “What the f**k do you think you’re doing,” shouts the Hardcore King. Kivell explains that was illegal and turns around. He raises his hand and-Neilsen grabs it. “You don’t want this,” Neilsen quietly says. Kivell looks nervous. Outside, Frost pulls on the ring tarp, getting him to a seated position and causing the blood to flow down his face. As Neilsen continues to stare down Kivell, Frost makes it to his knees, rubs his eyes and gets blood into them. He looks into the ring and a smile begins to grow. He slides into the ring. Neilsen says to Kivell, “That’s what I thought.” He then turns and-Hell Freezes Over! Neilsen’s body goes flying and twisting through the air. Frost puts a leg almost all the way over Neilsen’s head and…

ONE!

TWO!

THR-No!

Stevens: “Neilsen kicked out!”

Riley: “Dammit!”

Frost slams his hands against the mat as a dazed Neilsen starts to rise. Neilsen staggers to his feet, stumbles backwards and grabs the ropes to keep from falling. Frost stands, grabs Neilsen and-

Riley: “Did Frost’s blood wash out his eyes?”

Stevens: “That doesn’t really seem all that feasible.”

Riley: “But it must’ve worked.”

-whips him across the ring, Neilsen rebounds, Frost drops his head, Neilsen barely leaps over in time, stumbles, rebounds, Frost turns, Neilsen-clothesli-Neilsen runs under, hits the ropes, leaps, wraps his legs around Frost’s head, Flips ba-Frost latches onto the top of the Jungle King’s shorts and brings him down in a powerbo-Neilsen kicks out his feet, they come around Frost’s shoulders and Neilsen lands on his feet, Frost is bent over and-Neilsen slaps on a side headlock, throws out his right arm, twists and-Frost shoves Neilsen away, the Jungler’s chest hits the ropes, Frost wraps an arm around Neilsen’s head and plants him with an inverted DDT! Frost covers and…

ONE!

TWO!

TH-Neilsen’s body spastically jerks.

The crowd lets out a gasp of disappointment.

Stevens: “I guess you were right about these fans hoping Neilsen’s return would be a bust.”

Riley: “You’re damn right I was damn right.”

Frost gets to a knee and then to his feet as Neilsen tries to lift his head a few times to little success. He looks around at the crowd through a crimson mask and a few people can be seen giving the Velvet Hammer a round of applause. The Icelander reaches down, grabs Neilsen’s head and pulls the Jungler up. Frost hurls the Jungler at the ‘buckles right of the announce team and Neilsen smashes into them, crashing back down to the mat face-first. Frost stalks towards Neilsen once again. Neilsen shakes as he slowly rises. Frost grabs him and whips him across the ring again. Neilsen hits the ‘buckles on the other side, but this time he doesn’t go down. Frost turns 360 degrees to his right for no apparent reason, charges, jumps and-Neilsen darts away from the eminent squashing, charges at the ropes, rebounds, Frost stumbles backwards, turns and-Neilsen slaps on a sleeper, both men spin one eighty and the Jungler plants Frost down with-

Riley: “A wet dream!”

Stevens: “Hey Riley, has Neilsen ever given you a wet dream?”

Riley: “More times than I can…hey!”

Neilsen scampers forward, covers Frost’s chest with his own body and gets the-

One!

Tw-Frost hurls Neilsen off of him and the Jungler flies through the air and crashes back down to the mat.

Stevens: “Despite the beating Frost received earlier, it’s going to take more than one move to defeat this double champion for the ICTV Title.”

Frost rises, Neilsen makes it to his feet, wipes his nose and glares at Frost. Frost stares right back. Neilsen starts walking to his left. Frost does likewise. The two men start circling one another. Frost signals for Neilsen to bring it on. Neilsen flips him off. Frost face reflects pure rage as he charges. Neilsen runs to meet him, the two men lock up, Neilsen slaps on a headlock, he wrenches in on it and-Frost shoves him away, Neilsen rebounds and-slams down to the mat as he takes a shoulder block from the veritable wall of a man known as Frost. Neilsen scampers up as Frost just looks down at him with a smirk on his face. Neilsen looks desperate as he runs off to his left. The Jungle King hits the ropes, rebounds, leaps, pumps out his feet at Frost’s chest and-Frost swats him away. Neilsen’s back smacks the mat and he looks up to see a smiling giant looking at him through a crimson mask. While still on his back, Neilsen mouths the words, “…you f**k…” The Jungle King hurries to his feet, waving his arms in a dramatic fashion as he shouts, “Do you know who f**k I a-” Frost palms Neilsen’s head and shoves him to the ground! Neilsen’s shoulders hit the mat, he rolls backwards and winds up squatting by the ropes, holding both the second and top rope to stay up. To the extreme delight of the crowd, Frost shouts, “Face!”

Stevens: “Omi…the fans are actually enjoying seeing Frost humiliate Neilsen.”

Riley: “Aren’t you?”

Stevens: “Well…maybe a little…but I have to believe this is a mistake. Neilsen beat the crap out of Frost earlier and now the big man is just toying with him. I don’t think he’s taking this threat as seriously as he should. The return of his sight may have filled him with an overabundance of confidence.”

Riley: “Oh, whatever Mark…he CAN now see and nothing Neilsen has in his arsenal will be enough to take back control.”

Neilsen is fuming as he rises and Frost just waves him on. Neilsen charges, Frost swings a left, Neilsen dodges, grabs the arm, swings his legs around Frost’s other arm, has a crucifi-Frost muscles Neilsen up onto his shoulders, starts spinning around, once, twice, thrice and-Neilsen kicks his legs free, latches on a side headlock, spins around and plants Frost with a Tornado DDT! Frost flies across the ring, landing near the ropes by the ramp, Neilsen stumbles, still dizzy from the airplane spin, charges, steps on Frost’s chest, leaps, lands on the second rope, flips backward and hits a perfect moonsault! Neilsen’s on his knees, his upper body rises, he looks at Kivell, points down at Frost and then makes the cover and…

Stevens: “Neilsen gets the-!”

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-No!

Stevens: “Two…”

Riley: “Ha! Even hitting a Tornado DDT and a moonsault couldn’t keep Frost down! Neilsen’s going to fucking lose! Hell yeah!”

Neilsen softly swears as he now pants while on all fours. Frost slowly starts to rise. Neilsen gets up and looks down at his foe. Frost is getting to his feet. Neilsen starts running towards the ropes by the announce team, rebounds, Frost makes it to his feet, Neilsen charges, leaps and-SMACK!-rings out loud and clear as Neilsen’s feet smack straight into Frost’s busted open forehead. The big man falls to his back at the same time as Neilsen’s shoulders and the back of his head crack the mat. Both men are down and out. Kivell counts, “One!”

Stevens: “I can say this for Neilsen, he sure knows how to exploit a weakness.”

Riley: “Fuck that, he knows how to create a damned weakness…but take my word for it Stevie, Frost will still leave tonight as the ICTV Champion.”

“Three,” shouts Kivell. “Four!” Neilsen starts to stir. “Five!” Neilsen makes it to his knees. “Six!” Neilsen then drops to his belly and rolls out to the aisle left of the announce team. Kivell stops his count. Neilsen bends over and grabs his broken chair.

Riley: “What the hell is he going to do with that?”

Stevens: “Three guesses.”

Neilsen rolls back into the ring as Frost is still out as a bloody mess on the mat. The Jungle King struggles to unfold the chair, finally manages to do so and places it down on the mat.

Steven: “Well, my guess was wrong.”

Riley: “What the hell can he do with that? The damned seat is practically touching the mat with those legs being so F’ed up.”

Neilsen slowly walks over to Frost. He grabs the big man’s arm and starts trying to pull him up. He can’t even get the big man’s chest all the way up. Neilsen settles for trying to drag the man across the ring. With varying degrees of success, Neilsen manages to slowly haul the Velvet Hammer towards the chair. After laying the man in front of it, Neilsen pauses to catch his breath and regain his strength. He looks to the crowd and rolls his eyes. The Jungler then reaches down and his tight muscles bulge as he…he…he…he hauls the man up and plops him down on the chair. Neilsen then smirks and walks away from Frost. He reaches the ropes nearest the ramp, turns and points at the frozen Frost with a smirk on his face.

Riley: “He…he can’t do this. He put Frost on the chair. That should be a disqualification.”

Stevens: “I’m…I kinda’ doubt it. I’ll have to check the rule book later.”

Riley: “You do that! You do that ‘later’ and let Neilsen get the unfair advantage now, you racist prick!”

Neilsen charges, leaps, let’s both sandaled feet fly and-Frost rolls off the chair, Neilsen flies through the opening of the chair and gets stuck halfway through! Frost rises, smiling at the success of his possum ploy, leaps and-Holy Sh*t!-plants Neilsen with a 300 lbs. elbow that causes the broken chair to close in on the Jungler! The crowd chants, “Holy Sh*t! Holy Sh*t! Holy Sh*t!,” as the commentators shout…

Riley&Stevens: “Holy Shit!”

Neilsen screams in agony as a thick liquid starts seeping through his black wife-beater around his lower abdomen. Frost gets up and almost, almost mind you, looks disgusted at the results of his actions.

Stevens: “Omi…omi…omifuckingawd Bobby…Neilsen…Neilsen needs some medical help. Get some EMTs out here no-!”

Riley: “Wait!”

Neilsen’s spewing forth such rancid vulgarities that grown men weep as he claws at the top of the seat, trying to pry it off his waist. Frost walks forward, grabs the top of the seat and rips it free. The liquid only gathers faster. Frost walks away and talks to Kivell. The ref then turns and seems to be waving for people to come out from the back. Frost then heads back towards Neilsen, bends over to talk to him, Neilsen shouts something back, Frost turns with a pissed look on his face and-eats a low blow! Frost doubles over, Neilsen pulls him down in a school boy, grabs the tights, Kivell turns, his eyes go wide and he counts the-

ONE!

TWO!

TH-Kivell sees Neilsen holding the tights! He pulls Neilsen off of Frost, the Jungler rolls, rises, starts to get in Kivell’s face and then hunches over clutching his gut. Kivell reaches out to Neilsen but the Hardcore King slaps his hand away. A huge fist flies right over Kivell’s head, Neilsen barely manages to duck, both he and Frost turn, Neilsen swings a right, Frost grabs the arm and slaps on a-

Riley: “Cobra Clutch!”

Stevens: “Neilsen’s got…he’s got to be dying in that ring right now. He has to tap out, if for no other reason, than for his health.”

Riley: “When has Neilsen ever cared about his health? He just cares about hurting people, about getting the win and by making everyone else look like shit compared to him.”

Frost tosses Neilsen around like a rag doll within the clutch, yanking him from one side to the other. Kivell goes in to see if Neilsen quits, but the now foaming at the mouth Jungle King just kicks at the man. Frost wrenches and yanks and pulls and squeezes and…and…and Neilsen…Neilsen slowly stops moving. Frost cinches the clutch on harder. Neilsen is now bent over with a huge Icelander pressing his body weight down upon the Jungle King. Kivell cautiously steps towards Neilsen. When no sudden movements occur, Kivell grabs Neilsen’s right arm. He raises it, lets go and-“One!” As the crowd starts pounding it’s feet, Kivell raises the man’s arm again. “Two!” Kivell raises Neilsen’s arm one last time and-the stops in mid-air! Kivell holds his hands high, signifying the count was broke and Neilsen’s arms are waving like crazy! Neilsen struggles and fight, struggles and fights, struggles and fights and-

Stevens: “Neilsen can’t break the hold!”

Riley: “It’s all over for the so-called ‘King’.”

Neilsen looks forward, his eyes go wide and he shouts, “The Seven!” Kivell spins around and Neilsen throws a leg back for the low blow! Neilsen charges the ropes as a confused Kivell turns back around, Neilsen rebounds and-stumbles forward, clutching his gut and gets caught by Frost in a tilt-a-whirl sla-Neilsen flips through to his feet, slaps on a side headlock, twists, stun-German Suplex! Frost fold the Hardcore King in half and gets the-

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-NO!

Riley: “Neilsen got a shoulder up! How the hell did that rat bastard get a shoulder up!?!”

Stevens: “Well, he is the hardcore, high-flyin’ fu-”

Frost keeps his arms locked around Neilsen’s waist, hauls the man up with him and-Neilsen charges the ropes, his chest hits, he grabs the top and-gets blasted back with a second German! Frost releases his grip and the Jungler’s feet fly over his head, leaving Neilsen laying face down in a wreck. Frost gets to his feet, the flow of blood from his forehead now apparently stemmed, and slowly brings his thumb across his throat, revealing blood on the inside of his forearms where he had held Neilsen’s waist.

Stevens: “Frost…Frost is meeting the challenge and Frost is proving that he is one of the most dangerous and dominate ICTV Champions in recent history. Even the returning King of Hardcore is getting more than he can handle.”

Riley: “Neilsen’s heat is being killed by a sudden Frost.”

Stevens: “…”

Stevens: “…who’s feeding you your lines?”

Riley: “Wha-what? (Riley takes out an earpiece) Uh…no one.”

After throwing his arm down, Frost heads to the turnbuckles to the right of the ramp. He steps onto the ring apron, looks out at the crowd to a quiet mixed reaction and starts to climb. He shouts at the crowd, makes his way to the top and-Neilsen bolts up, flies at the man, jumps, his right foot springs off the second rope, his left leg flies around Frost’s head, his right meets it and Frost goes flying with a top rope hurricanrana! Frost hits the mat as hard as only the Velvet Hammer can and Neilsen follows, smacking the ground gut first. The Jungler screams and then grows deathly silent.

Stevens: “Oh…oh God…”

Both men are down and Kivell shouts, “One!”

Stevens: “Christ…these two men have been taking each other to the limit and in Frost’s case, he’s taking Neilsen past his. The Jungle King isn’t even able to get in any offence without taking himself out of the match. There’s only so much one man can survive.”

“Three,” shouts Matty K. Neilsen is still down and frozen as Kivell shouts, “Four!” Frost’s head starts to slowly rise, “Five!,” and then it falls, and…it rises once more with Frost’s right hand reaching up as if to pull himself to his feet by sheer force of will. “Six!” Neilsen is still down and his left arm seems to naturally fall into his left pocket. “Sev-,” Kivell stops the count as Frost makes it to his feet. The Iceman shakes his head and slowly heads towards Neilsen. The Jungler finally moves, rising to all fours. Frost stumbles, shoves Kivell out of his way and-Neilsen lurches forward, his left arm flies and Frost is blinded by powder!

Stevens: “Frost has been blinded again!”

Riley: “Is there anything that disrespectful bastard won’t do!?!”

Frost stumbles back as Kivell gets back up. Despite the fact that there is a mysterious mix of white goo and blood on Frost’s face-

Riley: “-Kivell won’t disqualify Neilsen? What the-”

Stevens: “He can’t call what he can’t see.”

Riley: “Bullshit.”

Neilsen chuckles as he slowly gets-Neilsen falls, smacking his head against the mat in the process. He’s no longer laughing as he rises the second time. He gets to his feet, making sure to keep himself steady and balanced. Frost is stumbling backwards, swinging large fists in a random order and direction. Now, Neilsen smirks once again. The Jungler charges, ducks an errant blow, locks onto Frost’s waist, gets his head tucked under Frost’s arms, Frost goes to lock hold of the man and-Neilsen charges, slams Frost into the turnbuckles left of the announce table. Neilsen then stays low as he backs away, keeping clear of now limply waving palms attached to a Velvet Hammer. Neilsen waits until Frost goes to wipe his eyes and then he charges.

Stevens: “Frost is at Neilsen’s mercy!”

Riley: “Dammit Mark. If Frost takes another beating that even slightly resembles the one he took at the beginning of this match, we will see a new ICF’NTV Champion crowned. That Jungle bitch…”

Neilsen slides in, barely ducks another flying fist and starts letting lose with some of his own. He blasts Frost with a right hand to his jaw, left hand to a shoulder, right hand to the gut, left uppercut, right jab to the face, Neilsen-

Stevens: “-is handing Frost some of his own medicine.”

Riley: “Like that weak bastard’s fists could even make a dent in the big man.”

Neilsen sends blow after blow at the big man, but, true to Bobby’s word, they seem to do nothing more than bring sadistic satisfaction to the Jungle King. Neilsen spins around, shouts at the fans to a chorus of boos, turns around and-Frost blindly reaches forward, latches onto Neilsen’s wife-beater, spins with the man in his grasp, sends Neilsen flying into the buckles, yanks him forwa-and rips Neilsen’s shirt right off his chest! The ladies shriek as Neilsen’s finely toned, yet scarred chest is revealed. The Jungler hits Frost’s body, bounces slightly back and Frost uses both hands to shove Neilsen back into the ‘buckles. Frost then starts blasting away with Hands of Stone! A jab to Neilsen’s face, another, a swinging left, a-Neilsen covers his head and still the last punch thrown jars him. Frost unleashes his fury on the blocking man, strike after body bruising strike hits the Hardcore King, culminating in a left handed body blow right to Neilsen’s torn gut!

Stevens: “Holy bloody Hell!”

Riley: “That’s sick!”

Neilsen screams, starts to hunch over and-

-CRACK!-

-a huge right cross from a Hand of pure Stone blasts Neilsen over the top rope and right out of the ring! The fans chant, “Holy Shit!,” at this unbelievable blow! Frost raises one clenched fist and the majority of the crowd actually explodes for this man.

Riley: “Do you hear that!”

Stevens: “You have to admire a man of such sheer power. If he wasn’t allied with the Magnificent Seven, who knows how far this man could go.”

Neilsen is getting to all fours when he suddenly convulses with a coughing fit. Once it stops, the King spits blood. Frost is standing at the ropes, feeling his way around. He’s smiling as he finds and pushes down the top rope. Kivell counts, “One,” as the big man steps out onto the apron. He shouts for some water and Riley is more than happy to oblige Neilsen’s foe with a fresh bottle. The Icelander’s smile grows even wider as he washes off the powder.

Stevens: “Why the hell did you do that?”

Riley: “Because I can’t stand seeing an unfair contest.”

Stevens stares at Riley.

Riley: “…okay. And Neilsen’s a fuckin’ son of a bitch. Happy?”

Kivell sees what’s about to occur and he stops counting. Neilsen starts to rise and-Frost leaps, goes for a-Neilsen slides back into the ring and Frost’s huge frame hits the floor! Neilsen gets up, grabs the top rope, Frost rises holding his left arm close to his body, Neilsen leaps over, turns, springs backwards off the top rope, hits a moon-Frost catches Neilsen over his shoulder, charges the ‘buckles, Neilsen slides off, pushes Frost into-Frost halts, spins, Neilsen jumps, slaps on a side headlock, spins in a Tornado-Frost turns it into an airplane spin! Neilsen goes round and around and-Neilsen slides off Frost’s back and once the big man turns-CRACK! Sandal to skull rocks the big man! Crack! Another superkick rocks Frost back to his heels. Neilsen steps back, shuffles forward and unleashes another-Frost catches the foot, throws it to the side, spinning the Jungler, Frost wraps an arm around Neilsen’s shoulder and plants him with the Ice Shelf on the floor!

Riley: “Hell yeah! Neilsen doesn’t even have the power to take Frost down with a superkick anymore.”

Stevens: “Christ Riley, your…your utter disregard for this man’s well being is appalling. Neilsen probably doesn’t even realize where he is after that right cross.”

Riley: “Neilsen doesn’t ever know where he is.”

Kivell slides out to check on the Jungler as Neilsen is clutching his back in pain, the fresh, bloody line on his lower abs out in the open for all to see. Frost looks to the crowd, while motioning at the downed man as if to say, “This is a challenge?” The Iceman grabs Neilsen, hauls him up, slaps on a side headlock, goes to grab the top of Neilsen’s pants and-Neilsen rolls out, holding Frost’s arm, yanks his close and sends a knee into Frost’s boys! Frost lets out a cry as he goes down clutching the home team. Neilsen staggers backwards, hits the announce table and then actually lays down on it, panting as if his last gasp is about to come. He finally manages to get back to his feet and stumbles to the timekeeper. Neilsen shoves him down, grabs his chair, folds it up and heads back to Frost. With his back to the announce table, Neilsen measures up and-spins around, blasting Bobby Riley with a steel chair!

NotJ: “Give him f**kin’ water!?!”

Stevens: “Holy-Riley! Riley!”

Stevens momentarily takes off his headphones as he checks on Bobby. Neilsen throws down the chair and climbs onto the announce table. He holds his hands high only to receive the disapproval of the fans. Behind him, Frost makes it to his feet. Strangely satisfied by the crowd’s reaction, Neilsen turns around with a smirk on his face that is suddenly wiped away by the sight of Frost charging at him! Neilsen leaps, flips over Frost’s head, latches onto the man’s waist and-Frost brings his arms high, slams them down, catches Neilsen’s ankles and Neilsen smashes through the announce table!

The fans chant, “Holy Shit!,” once more after that standing spinebuster through the table. Mark Stevens says a silent prayer for being able to move himself and Riley out from under the table in time.

Frost couldn’t be happier as he hurls the Jungle King back into the ring. He yells at Kivell to get his “scrawny ass” back in there. Kivell does so and Frost shortly follows. Frost scrambles to the Jungler, hooks a leg and the fans shout-

“ONE!”

“TWO!”

“THREE!”

The fans then let out a mixed gasp as Neilsen gets a shoulder up!

The fans always get ahead of themselves. That’s exactly what Mark Stevens is thinking right now as he puts on his headset.

Stevens: “Can-can you believe it!?! Neilsen kicked out after going through our table, after getting sandwiched in steel after…after getting blasted out of the ring by a huge fist… This is why he is the King of Hardcore and this is why he was let into the SWF. Our Federation is a better place now that he’s arrived.”

But his stay may not be long as Frost grabs his by the head, hauls him up and-Neilsen breaks free of Frost’s arms, blasts him with a right, another, another, another, another and another! Frost is against the ropes when Neilsen whips him, Frost reverses, Neilsen falls to a knee and reverses again, Frost rebounds, Neilsen charges, Frost ducks, Neilsen leaps over, both men rebound, Neilsen leaps, Frost jumps and-Neilsen brings both his arms crashing into Frost’s face! The fans pop as the man goes down and Neilsen is left standing! Neilsen pauses, catches his breath, heads to the buckles, leaps, Frost slowly stands back up, Neilsen twists in mid-air, faces Frost from the top ‘buckle, leaps, pumps his arms and-Frost hits a chokeslam!

Stevens: “My God! Frost just caught Neilsen by the throat in mid-air and the fans are going crazy! Frost is-Cover!!!”

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-NO!

The fans cheer like madmen as Neilsen kicks out again! Frost can’t…he can’t believe it! He screams, “How!?!” He stands up, faces Kivell, grabs the man’s shirt, holds him up in the air and shakes him as he screams, “How!?! How Kivell, fucking how!?!” He then throws down the ref and waves Neilsen up. He begs Neilsen to get up. He’s dying for Neilsen to get up. The Jungle King slowly answers those pleas. Frost charges, swings, Neilsen ducks, Frost rebounds, Neilsen leapfrogs, Frost rebounds, Neilsen rolls backwards, Frost hops over, Neilsen drops to the mat, Frost hops, rebounds once more, Neilsen stands, turns, catches a running Frost in a belly to belly, spins around, twists Frost in the air, sits-out and plants him with-

Stevens: “The Fear Factor! Neilsen just hit the Fear Factor!”

Neilsen scrambles forward, sits on Frost’s chest, puts one of Frost’s legs under his arm and counts along for the-

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-NO!

Frost kicks out with so much power and force that Neilsen goes flying out of the ring between the top and middle ropes. His only saving grace is the fact that he latched onto the bottom rope, landing on his feet rather than his ass. Frost’s face is beat red with…with…with an almost indescribable fury upon it as he gets up and heads towards the ropes. Neilsen reaches the apron, Frost reaches over and-Neilsen grabs Frost’s head, leaps back and Frost's neck gets snapped against the top rope. As his head snaps back, Neilsen climbs back onto the apron, Frost staggers back, Neilsen leaps, Frost shakes his head, Neilsen springboards, Frost looks up and goes flying after a hurricanrana! Neilsen gets back up, Frost rises, Neilsen charges, leaps, Frost catches him in a bearhug, flips Neilsen back, the Jungler flies, lands on his feet, his head smashes the top turnbuckle, he stumbles back, Frost latches around Neilsen’s waist, hurls him back, Neilsen flips, lands on his feet once more, Frost turns and eats a super-Frost catches Neilsen’s foot, spins him and-Neilsen throws an arm around Frost’s shoulder, roars and-Frost sends Neilsen rolling away with a powerful stroke of his arm, Neilsen rises, charges, leaps, Frost ducks, Neilsen lands, both turn and-Frost blasts Neilsen in his cut gut with a Touch of Frost! The Jungle King screams as he doubles over, Frost hooks one arm, the other arm and-

Stevens: “Early Winter!”

Frost hauls Neilsen up and powerbombs him down! He holds on for the pin and-

ONE!

TWO!

Stevens: “Frost’s defeated the Hardcore King!”

THRE-NOOOOOOOO!

The fans rise as in an explosion of approval and applause as Neilsen gets a shoulder up!

Stevens: “OMIFUCKINGAWD! Riley you have to see this!”

“Grand Slam” looks over to see Bobby out and lying in a pool of his own blood.

Stevens: “…oh yeah…”

Frost-Frost-Frost can’t believe it! He gets up, grabs Kivell and shouts, he shouts at him, “Call it! Call the fuckin’ match! I killed him! I killed Neilsen! Look at him…I said look at him! He’s dead! He’s not even moving! Call the goddamned match!” Kivell just looks around like he’s about to wet himself. The pissed off giant throws K down, heads out of the ring, picks up the chair by the announcers, slides back in, Neilsen is trying to push himself up, Frost slides in, Kivell tries to grabs the chair, Neilsen shakes as he rises, Frost shoves Matty K down, turns, swings steel and-Neilsen ducks, both men turn and-

Stevens: “Frost eats a steel chaired superkick!”

The fans cheer as Frost rocked back to his heels and the chair flies. Boot to his gut, side headlock, twist, the fans explode for the STUNNER!

Stevens: “Neilsen McTwist! Neilsen McTwist! Neilsen McTwist!”

Frost only gets rocked back to his heels again, Neilsen rises, gives a double bird, boot, headlock, twist, stunner! The fans go crazy and Frost goes flying!

Stevens: “Neilsen McTwist! A second McTwist for the-!”

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

DING! DING! DING!

The fans explode! Kivell helps Neilsen rise and the Jungler weakly shoves him away. Funyon enters the ring and announces…

“Ladies and Gentlemen, your NEW SWF Intercontinental Television Champion, NEEEEEIIIIILLLLLLLSSSSEEEEENNNNN…OF…THE…(Crowd: “Mother Fuckin’!”)…JUUUUNNNNNNGGGGLLLLLLLLLLE!!!!!”

“Ooooh ah ah ah ah!” The fans explode once more as Disturbed hits and Neilsen is handed the title belt. He looks around and unleashes a bloody grin at the sight on this packed English stadium cheering him on. Neilsen looks down at the belt, goes to strap it around his waist and…stops. He looks at it. Neilsen then goes to put it over his shoulder and…stops. He looks at it once more. Neilsen then asks for a mic-and throws down the title belt!

NotJ: “You cheer me! (The music stops.) You f**kin’ (Neilsen falls into a coughing fit, thick clods of blood fly out of his mouth.) …you f**kin’ cheer me! You cheer Neilsen, the Hardcore King, the Jungle King, the true King in this Ring…you cheer me, the man that misses a year of f**kin’ action and still wins the SWF ICTV Title on his first try against one of the very “best” this sh*thole of a Federation has to offer! You cheer me…you cheer me-a man you kept out of the f**kin’ Hall of Fame! Me, a man you forgot! Well f**k you, and (Neilsen looks down at Frost) f**k him too! Yes, I took his title belt, but see, just like you fans, it doesn’t deserve me! Frost! (Neilsen shouts at the downed man.) Frost, I’ve enjoyed my second title reign, but let’s see if you’ll enjoy yours.”

Neilsen looks out at the crowd, barely able to contain himself as his overwhelming passion and adrenaline go head to head.

NotJ: “Ladies and Gentlemen, “Your NEW ICF’NTV CHAMPION, Frost!”

The fans just don’t know what to say.

Stevens: “N…no…no one’s ever rejected a belt before…can…can he do this?”

NotJ: “See that belt does not deserve the privilege of being mine. Only two belts have earned that right and that piece of sh*t ain’t one of ‘em! See, I am the Jungle King and, goddammit, I can do any damn thing! For those of you who are seeing me for the first time, Welcome to the mother f**kin’ Jungle! And for you, and for everyone else…”

Neilsen pauses.

NotJ: “I AM NEILSEN OF THE MOTHER F**KIN’ JUNGLE!”

NotJ: “YOU DON’T RESPECT ME!”

NotJ: “YOU DON’T HONOR ME!”

NotJ: “YOU DON’T DESERVE ME!”

NotJ: “BUT YOU WILL-“

The crowd shouts, “FEAR ME!”

NotJ: “…roar mother f**kers…”

“Sickness” starts to play once more as Neilsen drops the mic. A few people cheer, a few people boo but most people don’t know what the hell to do. Neilsen turns around on the stage, throws up his arms to an indecipherable reaction and then exits through the curtains. The camera then cuts to Mark Stevens.

Stevens: “Omigawd…we’ve just had two new ICTV Champions crowned in less than thirty seconds. Neilsen gave up the title to the man he just beat. Both men got killed…just got word that Neilsen’s already getting medical attention and…and how the hell is Frost supposed to retain his Tag Titles after this? Stay tuned, we’ll be right back with Jay Dawg against Wildchild and…(Stevens looks around to see his broken table, busted partner, a broken chair and the blood drenched ring.)…and Jesus Christ, what the hell’s going to happen next!?!”

Right before the ad for the next PPV starts, you can see twenty stage hands running out to make everything as good as new before the next match takes place.

March 17, 2003

... One man against the system ...

... A mercenary doing a king's dirty work ...

... One man fights for what he believes in ...

... One man, back on his neverending quest for dominance ...

... The caged fury of two men ...

... With benefits going to the victor ...

... Title aspirations? ...

... Or lost hope? ...

March 17, 2003

"I see a line of cars and have them all turn black..."

The last little bit of Rolling Stones "Paint it Black" fade away, shilling the tag title match which will be coming in about an hour. The screen fades away from a shot at the tag titles and now turns up with a graphic imprinting itself in the centre.

STEEL CAGE MATCH

We cut back to the arena, where the main lights have cut out, being replaced by a barrage of strobe lights, directed in the centre of the ring. The English audience erupts into cheers as they see the enormous steel structure lower itself from the ceiling. The crowd is still pumped, especially after seeing the return of the Jungle King as he went up against the Velvet Hammer. Hit the rewind button if you want to know who won!

Stevens: "Folks! We are back here in the Telewest Arena, and what a show we've had so far! We witnessed two new recruits go head on... and the Return of Neilsen of the Jungle!"

Riley: "Neilsen of MY Jungle..."

Stevens: "That's NTD's line you dope."

Riley: "Meh. Neilsen has many fans."

Stevens: "Whatever the case! It is time for our steel cage battle! This is a match I am looking forward to, not quite as much as the Ironman or the Tag Titles... but the thought of Wildchild and Jamie Drazon going at it in a steel cage is just too awesome for words!"

Riley: "You damn right! Imagine how nuts Wildchild is for going up against the maniac Jay Dawg in the steel cage! Why doesn't he go wrestle an alligator... it's probably safer!"

Stevens: "Wildchild is fighting for his friend Johnny Dangerous, and revenge for the complete lack of respect Jay Dawg has shown him over the weeks! I wouldn't be too confident with Jay Dawg here... he may have bit off more then he can chew!"

Riley: "Pffft... When hasn't he done that! It doesn't mean Wildchild won't get the asskicking of a lifetime!"

Stevens: "Another note. Pinfalls are not happening in this match. You must either escape from the door, or climb out of the cage! However the door is locked, and only the referee on the outside can open the door!"

Riley: "Bah! Knowing the way that little bastard can move, he could just knock JD down and leap out of the cage!"

Stevens: "Another good point! Anyway, I am receiving word that Ben Hardy has caught up with Drazon backstage. Let's hear his thoughts on the manner!"

The camera cuts backstage, standing by Ben Hardy and Jamie Drazon, who is trying to cover up his smile and giggling. Hardy looks like his dopish announcing self, just with a tuxedo for the PPV.

Hardy: "Thank you, Stevens. I am here with SWF superstar Jamie Drazon, who is moments away from once more going one on one with Wildchild in a steelcage battle! Jay Dawg, what is your opinion on this upcoming battle?"

JD grabs the mic away from Hardy and places his hand on his face, before shoving him away.

Jamie: "Get the hell out of here, Hardy. This is my time here. Wildchild... son, when are you going to learn? I took you to school just under a week ago, and now you are back for more? What for? That idiot tag partner of yours? Is his dumbass career worth the asskicking I'm about to dish out to you? I mean I have no problem with it... but what type of idiot would risk his own career for a shit for brain. I mean the guy is a moron. Wildchild, did I hit you in the head too many times? Did Dangerous touch you in your special area? Does he have a spot in your heart? What the fuck? You know what... just step up to the bar, I'll tune yo fucking ass! While I'm at it, I dare you to invite that sack of shit Dangerous down to the ring. I seriously fucking dare you. I'll hurt him as well! Why, I'll take his head and shove it so far up his ass, he'll be brushing his teeth with his intestines. Why I'll... oh shit!"

SMACK!!

Jay Dawg it’s the ground hard via chairshot from Wildchild. JD starts to sit up, but Wildchild lifts the chair up again...

SMACK!!

The blow knocks JD back down, he lies limp, the chairshot completely catching him off guard. Wildchild looks down at his fallen adversary, glaring into his eyes. He drops the chair down beside him and gets down into his face.

Wildchild: "Tonight... t'e only t'ing happening is...I'm graduat'in school wit honors."

Wildchild takes off, oblivious to Ben Hardy as he storms past him. The announcer stands there in shock, not used to seeing JD flattened before him.

"You know I'm not dead!"

The first few lyrics of "The Everlasting Gaze" by the Smashing Pumpkins thunders over the Telewest P.A. system. The camera switches back to the arena, where the lights have returned, showing the awesome site of the steel cage.

"You know I'm, you know I'm not dead

You know I'm not dead

Now you know where I've been"

The Newcastle crowd roars in approval, very excited to see the man with the inhuman high flying skills.

"As you sleep, torn I am

Weighted down patiently

Born of love

You know, you know I'm not dead

I'm just living in my head"

The camera returns backstage, looking back at Jay Dawg laid out on the floor. Drazon suddenly sits up, shaking his head for a second. He grabs a hold of his forehead, rubbing it gently.

Jamie: "Son of a bitch. You're dead you little shit."

Cut back to the arena where Wildchild springs from behind the curtains. He holds his arms out for a second; spinning around as he absorbs the applause, then starts banging his head in time with his music.

"Forgotten touch

Forbidden thought

We can never have enough

You know I'm not dead

You know I'm, you know I'm not dead

You know I'm not dead"

Funyon: "Ladies and Gentleman! The following is a STEEL CAGE MATCH! Introducing first! He hails from the Commonwealth of the Bahamas! He stands at Five feet Eleven inches and weighs in at 217 pounds! He is the Bahama Bomber... THE WILDCHILD!!!"

Many of the fans begin to headbang along with him as he starts to jog down the isle. He slaps some of the hands of the Newcastle fans at ringside as he continues towards the ring. He pauses upon reaching the cage, looking straight up at the fifteen feet above him. He grabs onto the steel meshing, and starts to vigorously shake it. But instead of climbing, he heads back to the fans, leaping over the railing like a moshpit and shakes as many of the hands that he can. The audience lets him back into ringside, where he shakes hand after hand while circling the caged ring.

Stevens: "Wildchild is happy to be here with the Newcastle crowd!"

Riley: "Happy? Try sucking up!"

Wildchild continues to slap all the hands, circling the ring and almost ready to go up the ramp, but that's where he stops. He turns back to the ring; walking toward it he grabs the cage and begins to climb up.

"Forgotten touch

Forbidden thought

We can never have enough

You know I'm not dead

We all want to hold

In the everlasting gaze"

Wildchild stands on the top of the cage, holding his arms up high. The Newcastle crowd continues to applaud the man who's trying to steal the show solely with his entrance. Finally he twists around, hopping off the cage, but catches the top, then climbs the rest of the way down the steel meshing. His music slowly fades away and he scouts his surrounding. Noticing the door, which is on the far right side from the announce table.

Riley: "He's trapped in that cage now! Jay Dawg is going to flatten him for that chairshot!"

Stevens: "That was a return of the favour! Jay Dawg unnecessarily cheapshotted the Wildchild last week in their match, and it may have even cost the youngster the hardcore battle!"

The lights go out as he starts to stretch, however shortly after the lights go off.

BOOM

From all four corners of the top of the cage, a massive fireball explosion goes off. It is followed from the top of the cage to the rafters with thousands of tiny pyros, which carry their way up the ramp.

"THIS

IS

MAH

HOUSE!!"

BOOM

The voice that sounds live today, echoes through the arena and is followed by two more fireball explosions by the SmarkTron. Rammstein's 'Du Haste' kicks up shortly after the explosion without the lyrics. The heavy beats thunder 360 degrees all over the arena, letting the German heavy metal band soak into the brains of the English fans. JD steps through the curtains shortly after, his head down. He gently mimics the guitar in his music as he lets the impressive sound sink into himself as well. He lifts his head up, inhaling deeply as he can start to hear the fans boo over the extremely loud heavy metal. He scans the entire arena, barely glancing at the man in the cage, but instead the awesome structure surrounding him. The fact that Wildchild is in the cage makes JD smile menacingly, as he starts to walk down the isle. The sadistic grin is plastered over his face as he lowers his head.

Funyon: "And his opponent! He hails from Vancouver, British Columbia! He stands at Six feet Three inches and weighs in at 243 pounds! The Hardcore King... JAMIE 'JAY DAWG' DRAZON!!!"

JD makes it to the cage, the lights slowly return. He taps the steel gently, and then shakes his finger at Wildchild.

Stevens: "Jay Dawg isn't as pissed off as I would have expected him to be over that chairshot!"

Riley: "Look at where his opponent is! Trapped! Can you blame JD for not being mad! He gets to unleash some anger in mere moments!"

Stevens: "Regardless... JD isn't the most patient person in the world!"

JD starts to circle the ring, grabbing the middle of the cage which would be to the right of the announce table. He begins to shake the two bars, which start to shake the rest of the cage. Realizing the place is considerably solid; Drazon's grin grows another inch. He circles the cage some more, shaking it in front of the announce table, and once more to the left of it. Finally, he walks up the steps, where the ref opens the door. Then patiently enters the ring. Wildchild stands in the corner farthest away, while JD steps toward the centre. He continues to stare at the Wildchild, but looks to his left, then his right, catching some more glimpses of the English crowd who continue to boo him.

Stevens: “In mere moments, a chance to see the return of an SWF superstar is coming.”

Riley: “But we saw Neilsen return just five minutes ago!”

DING DING DING

The two walk toward the centre of the ring, and JD is quick to lunge at the Wildchild. The Bahama Bomber is considerably quicker though, ducking under Drazon’s arms and rushes to the ropes. As he bounces off, he sees JD lunge for him once more. A step ahead, he dives in-between Drazon’s legs and pops to his feet seconds before JD can turn around. As JD pivots, he sees Wildchild leave his feet and straight for him, knocking him back with a leg lariat. With Drazon’s defences temporarily disabled, Wildchild does the lunging, tying JD up in a collar/elbow. The anger suddenly turns up in Jay Dawg, or maybe it’s his strength advantage as he lifts Wildchild into the air, and shoves him forward with the lockup intact. Wildchild lands harshly on his knees, but JD pulls him back up with lockup.

Riley: “Heh! You show that bitch whose boss!”

Wildchild stands in Jay Dawg’s collar/elbow, but is shoved low, only to take a knee to the face! The shot only pisses off the Wildchild as he returns it with a knee to Jay Dawg’s mid-section. The blow catches JD off guard, not expecting him to reach this far; he stands but is clearly winded. Taking advantage, Wildchild hooks his elbow into Jay Dawg’s and takes him over with an arm drag. JD bounces off the mat but returns to his feet; angered he makes a dash at Wildchild. The result is the same for JD, taken to the air with another arm drag!

Stevens: “Wildchild is playing to his strong point of extreme speed!”

Riley: “He’s hitting and running! What a chicken shit!”

Stevens: “Looks like JD is doing the only running, into another fall!”

JD bounces off the mat once more but sits straight up, his eyes roll into the back of his head. JD returns to his feet and rushes for the Wildchild again, and the Bahama Bomber shifts his hip into JD, and throws him over top with a hip toss, but JD doesn’t flip. Instead the SWF veteran lands on his feet and reverses the hip toss. Wildchild may flip, however he flips all the way to his feet, pivots so he can hook onto Jay Dawg’s wrist and arm wringers him. Wildchild flexes his foot back, connecting his heel into the jaw of JD. The blow knocks JD back into the ropes, slightly touching his back into the steel.

Riley: “Dammit Jay Dawg! Get a hold of him!”

Stevens: “Wildchild knows first hand that Jay Dawg can take an asskicking as well as dish one out! To defeat him you have to hit him with all you have and then some!”

The Wildchild makes a sprint toward JD, diving in the air with a flying forearm, but JD sidesteps grabs the Wildchild by the back of the hair and throws him into the steel mesh! His legs over the top rope, Wildchild smashes into the steel and falls back into the ring. JD ducks his head under the Wildchild’s arm from behind, wrapping his arms around the waist. JD lifts up for the belly-to-back suplex, but WC backflips right out of it. Wildchild stands up but JD swings an elbow back, smoking WC in the jaw with it! Wildchild staggers backward just as JD turns around. In a situation usually reserved for lazy hosses, JD thrusts forward, raising his right boot, and drives it into the face of Wildchild!

Riley: “Big boot of doom!”

Stevens: “I’ve never seen JD bust that out before!”

The blow knocks Wildchild staggering back again, as his incredible balance is what keeps him on his feet even though he nearly tumbles to the mat. JD shoots his right arm out, letting it clasp the throat of Wildchild. JD raises his eyelids, only for Wildchild to see the blankness, and maybe a little bit of bloodshot. JD walks to the ropes and throws Wildchild backward, leaving the air ever so slightly to hit the steel cage, connecting with the mesh. As Wildchild bounces off, JD again clasps his hand around his throat. This time, he directs him to the pair of bars connecting the meshing, and throws him into that. The sickening smack of skull meeting steel can be heard.

Stevens: “Jay Dawg did considerable damage to Wildchild’s throat last week! You can bet that chokehold had a much more powerful effect because of that!”

Riley: “Chokehold, smokehold! Jay Dawg is just torturing the Wildchild in the most effective way possible!”

Stevens: “Anyway, JD is resorting to the smartest strategy! Using that cage as a weapon! That’s almost a must to survive these battles!”

Wildchild limps forward and into JD’s grasp. The Hardcore King wraps his arms around The Bahama Bomber in a belly-to-belly grasp. He lifts him straight up, but shoots him straight down again over his knee with a Manhattan Drop. As Wildchild hobbles in pain, JD grabs him by the back of the hair and the tights, and then throws him once more into the steel meshing! As Wildchild bounces back, JD latches his arms around him in another waistlock in a belly-to-back position. He lifts him up, and drops him spine first with a backdrop suplex! JD kips up the second he hits the suplex and grins in a sinister way much to the dismay of the Newcastle crowd.

Stevens: “Jay Dawg has just flattened the Wildchild, but is showing no attempts escaping the cage!”

Riley: “And why should he!? This is a Pay Per View! You wouldn’t want to cheat the fans of a quality Keg sized can of whoop ass!”

JD starts to laugh as he shakes his head.

“Oh it’s not over yet!”

JD turns to the cage, grabbing a hold; he uses it to pull himself onto the top rope, despite being in the middle of the ring. His grin begins to grow as he uses the mesh for support. Finally he dives off the ropes, letting his elbow extend and fold up before driving it into the chest of Wildchild! JD raises the elbow again and drives it into Wildchild’s chest, and one more time! Again, JD kip ups to his feet only to leap into the air once more. With sadistic intent, JD raises his boot and forcefully drives it down, straight for Wildchild’s skull. Not interested in having his cranium turned into something similar to a crushed watermelon, Wildchild rolls out of the way.

Stevens: “Some aggressive offence by Jamie Drazon here! Nothing out of the norm I suppose!”

Riley: “No shit!”

Wildchild rolls forward, placing his head on the mat; he does a handspring to his feet. JD rotates his shoulders, letting the bones crack into place. He is proud that his adversary is here to fight. JD thrusts forward, catching WC with his arms and driving his knee right into his chest cavity. As he stands winded, JD thrusts his arm up, connecting with a European uppercut. The Wildchild straightens up and fires back, catching JD in the jaw with a closed fist uppercut. JD takes a step back, but comes back to grab Wildchild's wrist and throws him into the ropes. Wildchild ricochets off the cables, his back barely missing the steel as he returns only for JD to duck down and launch him straight into the air and like a torpedo towards the cage! However Wildchild lands on the top rope, grabbing the cage, he springboards off.

Stevens: "Whoa!"

Wildchild arches his back, turning over as he soars through the air, crashing into Jay Dawg with a picture perfect moonsault! The crash landing takes JD to the mat hard, and the Wildchild pops back up to his feet. JD sits up unaware that WC is begging him to return to his feet. Drazon returns rather quickly and immediately rushes for Wildchild, but the Bahama Bomber thinks fast, as he ducks low, and instead of launching high, he launches JD far across the ring with a back body drop. JD sits up, growling his pissed off look is returning. Wildchild thrusts forward with a shuffle sidekick, but JD catches the foot, shakes his head and spins the Wildchild around clockwise. JD spins counter clockwise, thrusting his leg out, and connecting it into the jaw of Wildchild. The blow knocks Wildchild into the air and into steel meshing. Wildchild sits on the top rope for a second and JD makes the rush.

Stevens: "Back and forth! These men are taking it to each other!"

JD leaps onto the second rope, grabbing Wildchild in a front waistlock, and takes him off the rope and throws him over his head with a belly-to-belly suplex! However in a display of agility that can only be saved for the Pay Per View... Wildchild regains his balance in mid air, and front flips to his feet! Upon landing, Wildchild does a cartwheel, then a backward handspring. JD hits the mat from delivering the suplex but somersaults backward to his feet. He looks behind to see that Wildchild wasn't taken down, and the fury becomes evident. JD aggressively rushes for Wildchild, as the Bahama Bomber runs to the ropes. JD dives with a tackle, knowing Wildchild has nowhere to go... except up! Wildchild grabs the top rope and flat out handstands on top of it, just moments before JD was going to tear him in half with a spear!

CLANG!!

JD smokes the steel meshing headfirst and staggers backward. The crowd goes funky monkey apeshit at that little spot, as Wildchild lets himself fall to his feet behind JD. Wildchild applies a waistlock and starts to arch, but JD knows what's up, and grapevines his leg into Wildchild's, preventing any German suplex.

Riley: "JD dishes those out like a bartender does booze! It's foolish to try and hit him with one this early!"

Stevens: "I have to agree! Especially seeing as how Wildchild is not known for his suplexes!"

JD grabs a hold of Wildchild's wrists, breaking them apart, he ducks down under Wildchild's arm and spins around into a waistlock of his own. JD does the arching back, but Wildchild recalls what stopped him, and grapevines Drazon's leg. JD lets his right arm go, and clubs his forearm into the back of Wildchild's neck. Wildchild unintentionally lets the grapevine go, and JD arches back, but Wildchild latches his ankles around Jay Dawg's knees!

Stevens: "This kid maybe an insane high flyer! But he does have considerable technical expertise, being trained by international superstar Dean Malenko!"

Riley: "I know... you say that every match he's in!"

Stevens: "It just blows my mind!"

Wildchild tries to roll forward, but JD won't go. The second the ankles are released, JD arches back once more and throws Wildchild over his head with the release German suplex, but once again, Wildchild backflips in mid-air! JD knows that Wildchild got out of this one, and turns around rather pissed off. He strikes for Wildchild's face, but the youngster blocks. Wildchild counter strikes, but this time it's JD with the block. They each try three fist strikes, but block each other easily. Wildchild tries a front kick, however once more, JD catches the foot, instead of a counter kick though, he throws the foot into the air, making Wildchild do another backflip! WC lands on his feet just as JD propels his arm out for a clothesline, but Wildchild easily ducks the blow. He swings his foot back, connecting in the back of Jay Dawg's knee. He takes two steps back then rushes for JD, and crushes his cranium with a running elbow! Drazon's noggin shakes as he drops to both knees, only to collapse face first into the mat.

Stevens: "Wildchild just flattened Jay Dawg!"

Taking a glance at his motionless opponent, Wildchild turns to face the announce table, and begins to climb the cage. The crowd begins to pop as Wildchild looks to be climbing the cage rather safely, until his feet reach the top rope. JD does a push up and it doesn't take him long to realize Wildchild is trying to escape. He runs straight for the cage, leaping into the air he grabs onto Wildchild's ankle. With his chest on the top of the cage, Wildchild realizes he is already close and begins to shake his leg, hoping for an easy way out. JD won't let go though, hanging on as he begins to climb the cage. While climbing, he lowers Wildchild down so that both men are standing on the top rope. He grabs the back of WC's hair and smashes his face into the steel! Wildchild retaliates, loosening Drazon's ponytail in the process, he slams him facefirst into the steel. JD swings his fist with a backhand, but Wildchild bounces off the ropes, shifting himself so he is upside down and behind JD as he latches his arms around his waist. Wildchild sunset flips to the mat and pulls Jay Dawg down from the top rope with a powerbomb! Jay Dawg hits the mat hard much to the satisfaction of the crowd!

Stevens: "What a powerbomb! Wildchild was able to use the leverage to flatten Jay Dawg with that massive impact move!"

Riley: "The cage sure can make you more effective if you know how to use it!"

Wildchild looks up, staring at the crowd with a grin. "Wild-child! Wild-child!" The fans start to get behind their favorite Bahaman as he pulls JD up off the mat. "OH-LA-LAY!!" shouts the Wildchild, as he grabs JD by the arm and promptly arm wringers it. Using the leverage of the pain in the arm, he walks to the corner and climbs to the top rope. He starts to walk along the rope, having his one arm by his face in a prayer and the other hanging onto JD with a wristlock. The crowd marvels at his agility, as JD begrudgingly lets him take him across the ring. He starts to wiggle his wrist once Wildchild makes his way around the first rope, and Wildchild decides it's enough and leaps off the rope, latching his legs around Jay Dawg's neck! He starts to twist off with the hurricanrana, but JD keeps standing!

Stevens: "Wildchild just walked the ropes, and is looking to take JD down with a hurricanrana!"

Wildchild is upside down with JD standing above him, but JD snaps him back up! JD timbers backward, and in the process, smashes Wildchild facefirst into the steel! Wildchild clutches his face, but JD keeps him on his shoulders! JD pivots around, and while standing, slams his back in a powerbomb fashion into the cage! JD steps back, and repeats! Wild grasps his back for a mere moment before recuperating enough to feed Jay Dawg's face with punches! Drazon's grip around his legs begin to loosen, and one more punch allows Wildchild to break free. Wildchild kicks his legs out and facelocks JD, before spinning off him... but JD throws him like a frisbee off his neck, and Wildchild soars through the air before crashing chest first into the mat after spinning a full circle!

Stevens: "Jay Dawg practically powerbombed Wildchild into the cage, but the positioning took out the effect! However he was able to counter what looked to be a Tornado DDT attempt!"

Riley: "It was definitely a Tornado DDT attempt! If you recall, just last week on Storm, Wildchild nailed him with the ultra stiff version onto the steel entrance ramp!"

JD waves his hand away, a gesture saying this battle is wasting his time and turns back to the cage with Wildchild on the other side. JD begins to climb, but Wildchild returns to his feet the second JD begins the journey. JD doesn't even get his foot onto the top rope as Wildchild hobbles toward him, clutching his chest in pain. Wildchild grabs a hold of the back of Jay Dawg's pants, pulling him down, and if it wasn't for the belt holding up his pants, you might have gotten to see some hardcore nudity! But you don't.

Stevens: "JD looked like he had enough of this battle, but I guess Wildchild isn't done fighting yet!"

Riley: "Too bad his pants didn't fall down!"

Stevens: "Riiiight."

JD lands on his feet this time and staggers back. Wildchild pops him with a fist to the cheek, which knocks him back a step. Wildchild swings again, but JD grabs the fist, and in an unusual state "ARRRRRRRRRRGH!!" sells the scream as he gives Wildchild an arm wringer! He pulls Wildchild back into his chest and latches him arms around and just under his adversary's armpits. The second they latch on, JD arches back and throws Wildchild over his head successfully with a belly-to-belly suplex! Some fans turn their heads as Wildchild lands on the back of his neck but his body extends out rather quickly as he sits up, only to lie back down again. JD kips up one more time, but this time, with his eyes wide open!

Stevens: "Oh no!"

Riley: "This is never good, especially when you have no place to run!"

JD marches toward the fallen Wildchild with a purpose, as he reaches down and grabs him by the hair. With a merciless yank, he pulls the youngster to his feet. With his eyes bulging open, he looks out to the crowd, then all of a sudden, smiles sincerely? He lets Wildchild loose for a second as he looks at them, grinning, before cupping his hands around his mouth.

"DY-NA-MITE!!!"

The crowd can't help but cheer for the mention of International superstar the Dynamite Kid. But what really gets them going is the second JD applies a facelock to the Wildchild. He tosses Wildchild's loose arm over his shoulder, and with one powerful thrust, snaps Wildchild over with a snap suplex!

Stevens: "This crowd loves wrestling legend the Dynamite Kid so much, that they are cheering Jay Dawg over his tribute!"

JD doesn't let go of the set up though, rolling Wildchild over and pulls him to his feet, only to thrust him into the mat with another snap suplex! Despite Jay Dawg making Wildchild's bones rattle, the crowd continues to cheer. Jay Dawg stands the Bahama Bomber up one more time, only to take him over with the third and final snap suplex! Jay Dawg sits up, resting his arms over his legs, he takes a deep breathe.

Stevens: "Three straight snap suplexes in what looks to be a tribute to the Dynamite Kid!"

Riley: "Bah! Jay Dawg is turning his back on me! What a bitch!"

JD stands up, taking a look at the crowd as they start to chant his name. He starts to grin, before he starts to climb up the cage. Wildchild lies in his cataleptic state in the center of the ring as JD effortlessly climbs the cage. He makes it to the top in mere moments and makes the small effort of standing on the cage. The crowd continues to chant his name as Wildchild continues to lie motionless in the center of the ring. JD looks down at the far distance below, studying the man who he could easily defeat by just climbing down. But let's face it, Jay Dawg never takes the easy way. He looks back up at the crowd, his grin as sincere as ever.... only to suddenly turn into a look of pure sadism! JD hawks a loogie and spits it down to the mat, barely missing Wildchild's face by two inches. He slaps his hand off his bicep and shouts to the crowd.

"FUCK YOU!! DYNAMITE SUCKS!!"

The cheap heat tactic works, as JD easily turns the whole crowd against him and dives off the cage! He extends his arms, guiding his head like a torpedo!

Riley/Stevens: "OH SHIT!!"

CRACK!!

Jay Dawg drives his forehead into the combination of Wildchild's temple and shoulder! The crowd is visually disgusted as Jay Dawg connected full on with the move! The Wildchild's whole body shakes upon impact but it quickly silences, with the exception of the odd twitch in the leg. "YOOOOOOOOOOOU SUUUUUUUUUCK!! YOOOOOOOOOU SUUUUUUUUUCK!!!"

Stevens: "It looks like Jay Dawg changed his mind! He flat out disrespected this English crowd, the Dynamite Kid and the Wildchild!"

Riley: "It was brilliant! Something that provides Wildchild and many others with so much adrenaline is the support of the crowd! How can you feel supported when they cheer someone who doesn't respect you!?"

Stevens: "Did you just say something intelligent?"

Riley: "I'm as amazed as you."

Stevens: "You may have had a point! If the crowd was behind Wildchild, he might have had the sense to move out of the way!"

Riley: "Or their loud cheering would have woken him up."

Stevens: "Welcome back to the moronland."

Riley: "They can't live long without their god."

JD starts to push up, shaking the cobwebs out of that empty space in-between his shoulders. He suddenly snaps up his neck, with his eyes wide open, he grins demonically at the crowd. As if it's because it's Pay Per View, JD sticks his tongue out, letting it hang as he just cold cocked the Wildchild. He looks down at Wildchild, smiling as he whispers into his ear. "You failed, son." JD starts to stand, stumbling for a second as he still hasn't shaken off the impressive blow. He nearly passes out on the top rope, which faces the entrance isle the support of the cage and the ropes are what keeps him standing. He turns back to the cage and begins to climb... but something provokes the crowd into cheering again, and it ain't the fallen Wildchild! Someone is running down the isle!

Stevens: "It's Johnny Dangerous!"

Riley: "What the Kluk is he doing out here!"

Stevens: "I think he has a right to be out here, seeing as it's his career on the line, Exploding Chicken!"

Riley: "Huh?"

Stevens: "Ummm...nevermind."

Riley: "Welcome to the club, we have a space for you in-between new recruits Munich and Michael Craven."

JD continues to climb, getting a look at the other JD. The crowd continues to cheer as he grabs a hold of the cage, right in front of JD, face to face, just ten feet shorter. JD shakes his head, threatening Johnny D on what will happen if he starts anything. The Barracuda doesn't care and begins to climb at a considerable faster pace then JD. As he does so, Wildchild shows his signs of life, lifting his head a tiny bit and places his hand on it. Johnny gets face to face with JD with only a cage in between.

CLANG-POW!!!

Johnny falls off the cage as an imprint of the cage is now in Jay Dawg's fist.

Riley: "Ha! Jay Dawg warned him!"

Stevens: "Jay Dawg just knocked Johnny Dangerous senseless with that punch, knocking him off the cage! Johnny couldn't have expected JD to punch him through that!"

Riley: "Maybe he did! He's not too bright!"

Stevens: "But he might have sacrifice himself for his career, look at the Wildchild now!"

The Bahama Bomber has made it to his hands and knees. He is also trying to shake off the cobwebs, resting in a crawl, still unaware of where Jay Dawg is, maybe even where he is. JD takes a look at his fist, a small dent that happens to be leaking blood. JD shakes his fist at Dangerous as he starts to climb again. Pulling himself up, he shakes his hand off for a second, then climbs some more, a little slower then his previous attempts. Wildchild stands up finally, but instead of going to JD, he staggers into the corner!

Stevens: "I don't think Wildchild knows where he is!"

Riley: "Jay Dawg knocked the piss out of him with that headbutt!"

JD looks to his right, and sees Wildchild beginning to climb. His climbing stops as he puts on a mischievous grin. The crowd starts to cheer for Wildchild, hoping to wake him up. JD walks along the ropes, using the cage for support. From the outside, Johnny Dangerous can be seen supporting his tag team partner and friend.

"Come on, Wildchild!"

Stevens: "Johnny is fearing the worst for his friend! Jay Dawg can't seem to resist such an easy attempt to hurt someone!"

As Wildchild starts to climb the cage, his feet clearing the ropes and letting the steel dig into the bareness of them. Suddenly, as his arms reach the top, Jamie Drazon grabs onto the back of his tights. Confirming Stevens earlier statement, JD pounds him in the back of the head with a forearm. The impact forces Wildchild's face to smash into the steel, but he continues to climb, even though JD clubs him again! The crowd continues to cheer for the Bahama Bomber as he makes his way up the cage a few more steps.

"NO MORE!!!"

Jay Dawg shouts, as he grabs a hold of Wildchild by the waist, latching his arms around him tight. JD starts to pull, but Wildchild grips onto the cage!

Stevens: "Oh my god! Jay Dawg is going to try and German superplex Wildchild off the cage!"

Riley: "SUPER GERMAN!!!"

With his fingers latched into the steel, Wildchild starts to raise his feet, despite Jay Dawg's hands clearly locked around him with a waistlock. His feet start to climb in between his legs, as he tries to escape, his breathing slowing as Jay Dawg crushes his chest cavity. All of a sudden Wildchild's grip breaks, and Jay Dawg pulls him down off the ropes. They fly off the turnbuckle, aiming directly for the mat, but Wildchild breaks Jay Dawg's grip! In mid-air, Wildchild once again backflips out of the German suplex, but latches his arm around Jay Dawg's neck in the process with an inverted facelock!!!

Stevens: "OH MY GOD!!!"

Riley: "Son of a bitch!"

Wildchild lands hard on his chest... but not nearly as hard as his opponent, as Wildchild drives the back of Jay Dawg's cranium into the squared circle with a super inverted DDT! Wildchild grabs at his chest and rolls backward, trying to get to his feet, but falls down to his ass anyway. Jay Dawg lies limp on the mat while Johnny Dangerous goes funky monkey apeshit on the outside!

Stevens: "In an amazing feat of agility! Wildchild reversed what could have been a match ending German suplex, with an inverted DDT!"

Riley: "That son of a bitch! And speaking of which, why hasn't that other little bastard been escorted out yet!?"

Stevens: "I do not know! But maybe King is too occupied with his Magnificent Seven to notice that he is out here!"

Dangerous grabs onto the cage, shaking it as he makes as much noise as possible. The crowd getting fully behind him as he does so. "COME ON, WILDCHILD!!! LET'S GO!!" shouts Dangerous at the top of his lungs. His shouting starts to wake JD up as well, as he tries to shake the cobwebs out from his steep fall. JD lifts his head up a tiny bit, only for Wildchild to grab his hair and yank him to his feet. Although extremely groggy, JD launches out his right arm for a clothesline but the Wildchild effortlessly ducks the blow, sticking his head under Jay Dawg's arm and applies a waistlock. Wildchild lifts Jay Dawg up from the belly to back position, but shifts his weight so Jay Dawg is perpendicular with his shoulders, and the Wildchild drives him into the mat with a Neckdrop suplex!

Stevens: "Whoa! The ultra stiff neckdrop suplex!"

Riley: "Call it the DANGEROUS BACKDROPPAH!!!""

Stevens: "We'll have plenty of opportunity to say that in the near future!"

Jay Dawg's neck and shoulders stiffly land into the mat, with enough force that JD flips back onto his chest only to roll onto his back again. JD can't even move enough to clutch the back of his neck as he lies down in the center of the ring. Wildchild stumbles as he gets to his feet, the suplex taking out the last of his strength. He collapses onto the ropes, but quickly turns to them and starts to climb the cage. Dangerous is continuing to cheer for his buddy, as do the 20,000 plus fans in the arena. JD lies limp as Wildchild makes his way up the center of the cage, making it to the top rather easily. He looks down at Dangerous who is pleading for him to finish the journey, but something holds him back. Wildchild looks down at the mat to see Jay Dawg lying flat on the mat, if he's conscious; he's a damn good actor. Wildchild thinks of the trouble he's been caused this week, and then looks down at Dangerous with a look that only says "I'm sorry." Johnny goes nuts trying to plead with Wildchild not to do it. Wildchild's eyes brighten like the look of his maniac adversary. The crowd starts to get behind him, willing to support any decision he makes.

"I'm doing this for me, Johnny!"

Wildchild shouts down to his friend as he stands on top of his cage.

Stevens: "Oh no! Don't do it kid! You can win this match right now!"

Riley: "He wants to hurt the man that's caused him pain!"

Stevens: "He shouldn't bother! His friend's career is at stake here!"

Wildchild lowers his head, shooting his arms out in a crucifix pose, having them shaped like a "T". He raises his head only to shout out for the crowd to hear...

"ANDROS!!!"

-And the audience goes nuts as Wildchild leaps off the cage, flying through the air while horizontal with the mat, he spins a full 360 degrees! Pulling his chest all the way over so it's perpendicular with JD... chest-to-chest... belly-to-belly...

SMACK

WILDCHILD CONNECTS FULL ON WITH THE ANDROS DROP FROM THE TOP OF THE CAGE!!!

Wildchild hits so hard that he bounces off of Jay Dawg's chest, and lands on his feet only to have them cave in on him. Drazon's body folds in with Wildchild's impact, but lies back out again, he clutches his chest in severe pain as does the Bahama Bomber.

Stevens: "HE HIT IT!! HE HIT IT!!!"

Wildchild lies on his face, with his knees supporting him as he clutches his own chest.

Stevens: "Wildchild just leveled Jay Dawg with that Andros Drop! What a site! Let's see that in an instant replay!"

Riley: "I didn't see you go apeshit and replay Jay Dawg's headbutt just a little earlier!"

Wildchild begins to crawl, the support of the crowd and Johnny Dangerous behind him. The Secret Agent now rewards the risk, happy that Wildchild connected with the dangerous splash. Wildchild makes his way to the corner of a cage, letting his head and chest rest on the bottom rope. Johnny gets in his face, with only the cage in between them. "Come on! Get out! This is my career!" Wildchild gives a nod, completely out of breath as he grabs onto the second rope. The sweat pours down his face as his hands reach the top rope, as he is now standing on his knees with the assistance of the ropes. Wildchild's legs begin to shake as he makes the effort to stand on them, eventually doing so only to let his head rest on the turnbuckles. He takes a deep breath and places a foot on the bottom rope, while Jay Dawg starts to show motion.

Riley: "Uh-oh! The bastard maniac is reviving!"

Stevens: "Wildchild better hurry!"

Wildchild is at the second rope, while Jay Dawg rolls onto his chest, still feeling the pain. JD rolls back onto his back, but sits up, grabbing at his chest some more, feeling the painful effects of breathing. Wildchild gets to the top rope as Jay Dawg makes his way to his feet. The crowd start to really get behind Wildchild, hoping to invigorate him enough to climb his way out of the cage. Wildchild is now in-between the top rope and the top of the cage just as JD makes it to a full vertical, despite staggering around like a drunk in the process. Wildchild crawls onto the top of the cage, his chest lying on top. Dangerous continues cheering, getting behind him some more. Jay Dawg grabs the cage, seeing Wildchild on the verge of escaping; his adrenaline kicks in for him to climb the cage. Wildchild rolls his feet off the top as JD climbs to the top rope and grabs onto his hair. Wildchild continues to roll off, forcing JD to climb up so he is now in the middle of the top rope and the top of the cage!

Stevens: "Wildchild almost has this won, but Jay Dawg has quite the grip on his hair!"

Riley: "Pull him back in Dawg!"

The cage now separates the two men as they stand on both sides, with only their heads not interrupted by the steel structure. Jay Dawg hangs onto Wildchild's hair as he loosely hangs, and punches him in the face! Wildchild lets go of the cage for a half second and the dangling by his hair isn't worth the pain, so he grabs a hold of the cage once more! JD grabs him back onto the top of the cage, Wildchild assists him by begrudgingly climbing up the cage. Dangerous is grabbing his hair on the outside, clearly not to thrilled at what has just happened. JD locks on a facelock to the Wildchild, pulling him up the cage some more with it. JD stands a little higher in the cage, placing Wildchild's spare arm over his neck and shoulder. "ARRRRGH!!!" Jay Dawg shouts out as he tugs on the Wildchild. Jay Dawg tugs again, "AARRRGH!!!" shouting out again. Suddenly Wildchild begins to slip off the cage and JD tows him all the way off, lifting him a slight bit before pushing his feet off the cage as well...

Riley/Stevens: "HOLY SHIT!!!"

...they soar through the air, interlocked by their shoulders and heads, their body's facing opposite directions...

Riley: "SUPAH-PUHLEXXXXXXXX!!!"

WHAM

The impact echoes throughout the arena as they bounce off the mat before separating their connection to each other.

Stevens: "Jay Dawg got even more height with that superplex! That has gotta make the bones rattle!"

Riley: "With all the pain these two have gone through, it's a wonder if they will ever get out of that cage!"

Stevens: "I'm beginning to agree with you!"

Dangerous runs around to the door of the cage and begins to shake it, the ref telling him to go away. After nearly thirty seconds, JD shows the first signs of movement, and begins crawling toward the cage. Wildchild sits up as well, grabbing his back. JD uses his energy to crawl to the ropes while Wildchild uses his to get to his feet. Jay Dawg grabs onto the bottom and grabs onto the cage as well, before letting his head and chest rest on the bottom rope. Wildchild stands to his feet, but staggers back to the ropes on the opposite side of JD. Wildchild falls back on them, letting them hold him up. JD finds it rather comfortable resting on the bottom rope, and Wildchild sees the open opportunity. The Bahama Bomber regains enough energy to sprint toward JD, letting his chest bounce into the top rope as he shoots his legs through the bottom, somehow dodging the steel as he swings them back inward and clobbers Jay Dawg in the teeth with the Chicklet Buster!

Stevens: "And they are still fighting!"

JD grabs a hold of his teeth, as he staggers back into the ring. Wildchild rests on the ropes, holding his arm up and invites JD to fight some more. JD shakes the painful blow of his teeth off and rushes for the Wildchild.

Riley: "These two seem to want to kick the crap out of each other!"

Stevens: "No doubt! They seem to have grown quite the distaste for each other over these last couple of battles!"

Wildchild sidesteps the stampeding Jay Dawg and uses his momentum to throw him into the cage. JD hits the steel and bounces off, only to receive a boot to the gut by Wildchild. As JD doubles over, Wildchild turns around, applying a standing headscissors with his back to JD. He hooks both of the arms and begins to spin, but JD spins all the way through, shifting his body weight so they are back-to-back again! JD hooks both of Wildchild's arms with a backslide set up, and starts to charge backward, making Wildchild head for the cage.

SMASH

JD squashes the Wildchild into the steel cage! He lets go of the backslide and promptly applies a full nelson. Jay Dawg's entire body flexes as he arches backward, his stomach muscles rippling into a scary six-pack, his entire body going red as he roars out, taking Wildchild over his head and driving his neck/shoulders into the mat with the Dragon suplex!

Riley: "Jay Dawg didn't release him that time and it made all the difference!"

Stevens: "There was the Dragon suplex! I haven't seen Jay Dawg bust that out since he returned!"

Wildchild's body folds up like an accordion as JD lets go of the full nelson. However the king of hardcore sits up, and certainly isn't finished. His eyes are wide open and the fans can only fear the worst. JD grabs a hold of Wildchild's tights, and peals him off the mat. He grabs Wildchild by the back of the neck and the tights and points to Johnny Dangerous. "Say good-bye to your meal ticket, Johnny!" and Jay Dawg throws the Bahama Bomber facefirst into the steel, right in front of Johnny Dangerous. Wildchild bounces off the cage and right back into Jay Dawg's grip, where JD throws him into the cage again! Wildchild staggers off once more, a tiny trickle of blood coming out his forehead. JD grabs him one more time and throws him in again! Wildchild bounces off the steel and JD leaps into the air, spinning a full 360 degrees and thrusts out his right leg...

CRAAAAACK!!!

Wildchild is knocked into the cage from the Thai Roundhouse kick! The only thing that keeps Wildchild standing is the rope as JD lands on his feet, flexing and prepared to strike with another if appropriate. JD grabs Wildchild by the hair and pulls him into a standing headscissors. JD snaps his eyes wide open and stares a hole into Johnny Dangerous.

“This is on your head!”

Drazon shouts as he crosses the Wildchild’s arms over his throat with the crossarm lock… JD leaps in the hair, dragging the Wildchild up and guiding his cranium to be the one to absorb the impact of the JD’s Revenge!! Wildchild lands hard on his forehead and bounces off the mat only to land on his back. JD slits his thumb over his throat, signalling that is all for the Wildchild. JD turns to the cage facing the entrance isle and begins to climb. The audience boos loudly in disappointment as JD missions up the cage, getting his foot on the second rope. JD steps up to the top rope and journeys up the steel meshing, getting his hands on the top bars.

Stevens: “Wildchild has been knocked unconscious, and Jay Dawg is now climbing out of the cage!”

Riley: “What a victory by Jay Dawg!”

All of a sudden, Johnny Dangerous leaves the door side and runs to the side JD is climbing up, and begins climbing up himself!

Riley: “Hey that little cheater!”

Stevens: “Johnny Dangerous wants to save his career anyway possible!”

JD keeps climbing the cage, getting his feet on top, and Johnny Dangerous grabs them. JD struggles a bit, as Dangerous shakes his feet enough to let himself slide onto the top of the cage. With his legs hugged, JD raises his fist and strikes it down in between the shoulder blades of Dangerous, but the Secret Agent pulls on the legs, taking JD down with a double leg takedown. Down in the ring, Wildchild has rolled onto his chest, and begins crawling for the cage door.

Stevens: ‘Uh-oh! This finish might become a race!”

Riley: “Dispose of him quickly Jay Dawg!”

JD lands on his back on top of the cage and Dangerous pops him in the face. JD grabs him by the hair and thrusts his forehead, cracking Dangerous with a headbutt. The blow makes him raise his head in pain, JD takes advantage, grabbing him by his hips and raising his knee straight north!

DING

Johnny rolls his eyes into the back of his head and JD punches him in the jaw! The referee unlocks the cage door and Wildchild is able to touch his hand on it. JD shoves Dangerous off of him and onto his back. The referee opens the door and Wildchild lets his arm hang out the doorway. JD stands over Dangerous and stomps him in the chest! Wildchild pulls his other arm out the doorway, and proceeds to pull out his head and chest, hanging over the ring apron. JD punts Dangerous in the jaw! Wildchild’s hips hang out and he starts to flip out, but his feet get caught on the bottom rope…

JD notices this and starts to climb down the cage, leaving Dangerous!

Stevens: “There’s going to be a winner!”

JD lets his feet go, his arms still hold him up…

-he starts to loosen his grip…

-Wildchild’s foot slips free…

JD lets his one hand go…

-but Wildchild’s feet hit the floor before Jay Dawg can drop out of the cage!

DING DING DING

Stevens: “Wildchild wins!”

Jay Dawg grabs back onto the cage, his feet reattaching their grip. He begins to shake the steel meshing, letting his eyes pierce the ceiling as he roars out in anger.

Funyon: “The winner of this match, via escaping the cage…. THE WILDCHILD!!! AS A RESULT… Please welcome back to the SWF…. JOHNNY DANGEROUS!!!”

Wildchild lies on the mat outside and raises his arm in victory as “The Everlasting Gaze” kicks up. JD continues shaking the cage in frustration, before looking up the cage. His sadistic grin returns in a matter of moments as he stares a hole into Johnny Dangerous. He climbs back up the cage, and sits right in front of the face of Johnny Dangerous!

Stevens: “I don’t like what Jay Dawg has planned here!”

JD grabs Dangerous by the back of the head and slams his face into the cage, again, again, one more time! JD stands up on top of the cage and pulls Johnny Dangerous up with him.

Riley: “Welcome back to the SWF Dangerous!”

JD grabs Dangerous by the back of his street jeans and shirt, and…

THROWS HIM OFF THE TOP OF THE CAGE AND INTO THE RING!!!

Stevens: “OH MY GOD!!!”

A chant of “Holy Shit!” kicks up as JD looks down into the mat, where the centre actually caved in and the carcass of Johnny Dangerous lies imprinted in the centre of it. JD continues to stare down as the “Holy Shit!’s” turn into boos and other negative comments. Jay Dawg starts to climb down the cage and into the ring.

Riley: “Jamie Drazon isn’t finished!”

Stevens: “That son of a bitch!”

Riley: “Hey! He cost him the match! Don’t do the crime if you won’t serve the time!”

JD looks down at Dangerous, who actually starts moving! JD smiles as he drags the Secret Agent out of the mat. He Irish whips him into the ropes, and Dangerous collapses on them, only for the cables to bounce him off anyway. JD picks Dangerous up by the arms, lifting him in the air and letting him loose in mid-flight, JD switches positions, and drives his shoulder right into Dangerous’s chest cavity! Jay Dawg drives Dangerous into the mat with the move, forcing Dangerous to lie limp.

Stevens: “Jay Dawg seems to be finished with the Wildchild! Now he’s taking his anger out on Johnny Dangerous!”

Riley: “Well he had it coming! He wanted in the SWF so bad, this is what he has to put up with!”

JD drags Dangerous off the mat and to his feet, then into a standing headscissors. JD wastes no time crossing his arms over his throat and leaps into the air, smashing Dangerous into the mat with the JD’s Revenge! JD stands up and walks to the door, letting his arms rest on the top rope as he exhales in exhaustion. JD shakes his head as he begins to breath deeply.

Stevens: “With all those massive falls, it’s no surprise they broke the ring! We better get some ring crew assistants over here and fix this up before the pay per view continues!”

Riley: “Better get the Undertaker for young Dangerous over there!”

Stevens: “Some paramedics are on their way! Johnny Dangerous maybe reinstated with the SWF, but at quite the cost!”

JD exits the door by the cage and walks up the isle. The British crowd throws their drinks and popcorn at him as he raises his arms in victory. They boo even louder because although the records say Wildchild has the W, Jay Dawg looks like the winner at the moment.

Riley: “The only true tragedy is, Jay Dawg won’t get a shot at the US title!”

Stevens: “I dunno, something tells me the Suicide King will reward this type of behaviour!”

JD continues to raise his hands as he passes by the old buildings and other decorations from the London arena. The screen cuts to a video hyping the Ironman match, which will be coming up shortly.

March 17, 2003

It's tough to be the King, as the SWF’s Suicide King knows. For some reason, everyone seems to think that their every little qualm and problem needs to be addressed by him, the top dog of the federation. They don’t even bother to solve their own problems, they just bring it all on him, dumping loads and loads of crap on a very busy man with a schedule to keep. And what’s worse, they actually believe he gives a rat’s ass about their petty disputes and gripes.

The King of Hearts opens the door to his office, distinctly remembering having locked it before his last exit, but shrugs it off as an oversight. After all, he is the man. The head cheese. The King of his domain.

“Kingsly!”

An overly exuberant voice sounds from inside the room. King glances over his shoulder, half expecting an ambush, then pushes inside, only to find himself confused. Before him are two young men, recognizable from an earlier promo, both of them dressed alike, both of them looking exactly alike. One munches pistachios from SK’s crystal nut dish. The other sits in his leather chair, feet propped up on his desk.

“What the hell…” King begins.

“Nice to see ya, Kingsly old pal,” the one behind the desk says. “Look who’s here Kris.”

“Mmhmmm,” the other twin says, still munching on the tasty pistachios. King doesn’t wait for an explanation.

“Get out of my office.”

“That’s no way to treat people like us, Kingsly.”

“You have three seconds before I call security.”

Kris, the full-mouthed twin, merely shrugs and holds out a white envelope. He mouths something incoherent between chomps. His brother translates.

“We just thought you’d like to know how a friend of yours is doing.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” King asks. One swallow from Kris, and he answers.

“We’re twins.”

“No kidding,” the man of gambling offers.

“Kris and Kross. Maybe you’ve heard of us?”

King shakes his head. “I’ve never heard of you, and I don’t care what you’re selling. Get out of here and take a seat like the rest of the public, if you even have tickets, that is.”

“You mean after all our father has done for you, you’d make us pay,” Kross offers. “Dude, that just sucks.”

“You two idiots have a father,” King smiles.

“Yeah, maybe you’ve heard of him. Branden Occoquan?”

King stops, looking the two lads over, and raises his eyebrows.

“Branden Occoquan? You mean, owner of the Occoquan casino in…”

“LAS VEGAS!” the two twins cheer together. Kris beams a smile. “That’s us! It’s about time you recognized us.”

“I don’t recognize you,” King says. “But your father is a good man, he’s always treated me well at that casino. I knew he had twins, but not this old.” King looks around the room, noticing its untidy state, no doubt the fault of the two kids in his room. “By the way, feet go OFF the desk.”

Kross shrugs. “Oh, my bad.” He removes his shoes from the furniture, and proceeds to stand up. “Well, dad told us to always come see you if we were in your area, and we are now, so we wanted to drop in.”

“Man, Branden Occoquan… how is the old man anyways?”

Kross looks at the floor, and Kris suddenly turns grim. He speaks.

“Our dad died a few months back.”

Everybody all together: Aww.

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that…” King begins.

“Not to worry, bra,” a suddenly smiling Kross says. “He left us piles of money, and we’ve been all over the country.”

“Hell, all over the world,” his now blissful brother chimes in. “Let me tell you Kingsly, we’ve been to the most exciting places you can imagine. Skydiving, bungee jumping, every single risk there is to take, we’ve taken ‘em. We want to be just like you, the original gambling man!”

Kross claps for the speech as King smiles.

“I guess I’m flattered guys, Kris and Kross, is it?” The brothers nod. “But what can I do for you?”

“Well, Kingsly,” Kross says.

“It’s King.”

“I like Kingsly better.”

“King. Suicide King. King of Hearts. Not Kingsly.”

“How about, the Kingmeiser,” Kris offers.

“King.”

“Kingsonator?”

“King.”

“Right,” Kross finally agrees. “Anyway Kingsly, my bro and I realize that we’ve done every single thrill seeking thing we can think of, but there’s one rush we haven’t had yet. One thing we haven’t done. Something our most esteemed idol has been famous for, and we’d like to give it a try.”

King sighs. “What’s that, fellas?”

“Picture this,” Kris says. “Tons of people, huge lights, flashes, fire, lots of cheering and screaming.”

“Everybody looks around,” Kross continues, “they don’t know what to expect. But their lives are about to change.”

“They begin to sweat. They scream, because they can’t help it.”

“And then, they see it. Two guys, two of the same guy.”

“Is that the same guy?”

“Are they twins?”

“Are they clones?”

“And finally,” Kross says, opening his arms wide, “they realize who they are. Kris and Kross.”

“Kriss and Kross,” his brother repeats, “the premiere tag team for the SWF!”

They both take a deep breath and exclaim together:

“DÉJÀ VU!”

They hold out their hands, like two minstrels trying to sell their show to an audience. And the crowd, tonight, is tough. King shakes his head.

“No.”

“No?” the brothers repeat, sadness playing their faces.

“No.”

“Aww, pleeeese?” Kross says, half begging the man. Kris concurs.

“We’ve got to do it, King. Name your price. We’ll pay. We want to experience the ultimate rush.”

“The thrill to end all thrills. The action, the people, the merchandise.”

“Yeah, not to mention the video games.”

“Dude,” Kross agrees, “Our video game characters would be so sweet.”

“Yeah, and then I could be like ‘POW!’ And they you’d be like ‘UGH’! And then I’d win!” Kris pretends to play a wrestling video game, and pantomimes kicking his brother’s ass.

“You could never beat me dude, cuz I’m the most electrifying man in sports entertainment.”

“Yeah, but I have stamina of 9.”

“Well my charisma is 11.”

“Charisma can’t go past 10 moron.”

“Hey, shut up jerk!”

“Make me…”

“GUYS!” King breaks up their bickering. They turn to him, blinking. “There’s no way I can do it. Look, your father was great, and I’m sad to see him go, really, but the guys we have in that ring have trained for years to get here. Some of them for over a decade. You really think it would be fair, not to mention safe, to let you in the ring with them?”

“Safe? Safe?” Kris hikes up his pants and rolls his eyes. “You’re talking to two guys who have run with the bulls in Pompeii. Swam with the sharks in the Pacific.”

“Climbed mount Everest,” his brother offers. “And gone to Amsterdam.”

“TWICE!” they say together. King shakes his head.

“It’s a little different than sleeping with a bunch of European prostitutes, guys.”

“Dude, they have prostitutes in Amsterdam?” Kross asks. He smiles at his brother.

“SWEET!” Kris says. “We are SO going back there!”

“Score!” They slap hands. King is obviously annoyed.

“Fellas, I’m afraid this can’t happen. It’s for your own good. Get some training, go to a wrestling school, preferably my alma matter, TWA, and come see me in a year or so. Then, we can talk.”

“Training, bah!” Kris says.

“We don’t need no stinking training.”

“Yeah, all we gotta do is kick some Neanderthal’s ass, pin him, and take home our shiny gold. These other guys suck anyways, how hard can it be?”

King looks sideways at the two youngsters, not believing what he just heard.

“How hard can it be?” he says, nearly ready to chew the twins a new ass hole, and deliver therein a piece of his mind. But he stops, and smiles in that sadistic way that only he can.

“You know what guys. You got it. Get some gear, and dress to move, I’m putting you guys in a match.” The two twins light up, one brother looking to the other.

“Is he serious?” Kross says.

“He is SO serious!” Kris replies. They look at King expectantly.

King sighs.

“I am SO serious.” He says, without a lot of enthusiasm.

“YAY!” the brothers shout, as they victory dance about King’s office. “Who rocks the house? Kingsly rocks the house!”

“It’s King, and take these,” King walks over to his bookcase, dodging the cavorting twins, and pulls down a few texts and manuals from his old dungeon days, including the aptly titled “Idiot’s Guide to Professional Wrestling.”

“I think these are appropriate for the situation. Study these hard guys, if you’re gonna be in, you’ve got to take this seriously.”

“Oh, definitely man,” Kris says, snatching the textbooks from King. “We will not disappoint you, oh guru of ass kicking.”

“Not in the least!” his twin says, looking at king like a child to his father.

“Now get out of here, guys, I have some work to do. Take these tickets and this key to my personal skybox and watch the show. I want you two to enjoy what few days you have left.”

“HUH?” the twins say in unison.

“Oh, I mean, enjoy the show.” The brothers look confused, but shrug as Kris shakes the Suicide King’s hand.

“You got it dude. C’mon Kross, he’s a complicated man.”

“And no one understands him but his woman!”

“KING!” they sing together! Then leave.

“Dude, turn to the chapter about the steel chairs!”

“No. Low blows first, then steel chairs.”

The two continue to banter as they exit the office, leaving King rather annoyed, but somewhat satisfied after all. He smiles to himself.

“Now this could be interesting…”

March 17, 2003

- IN ONE HOUR -

... 7545 babies are born all over the world ...

... 25% don't always make it.

... the average man thinks about sex 21 times ...

... 1,034,343 people travel by airplane ...

... 98677 contemplate disaster ...

- IN ONE HOUR -

... they will lose seven pounds ...

... their hearts will beat 5241 times ...

... they will dispense more energy than a marathon walker ...

... their bodies will never be the same again ...

... pain will have a new meaning to them ...

... they will see who wants it more ...

- TWO MEN -

- ONE RIVALRY -

- ONE QUEST -

- ONE TITLE -

...

- SIXTY MINUTES -

...

March 17, 2003

The house lights shut off as the wispy sounds of a digital xylophone echo throughout the arena. You can feel the pulsation of the light dings, as a hard beat done by violins, suddenly strikes up slightly overshadowing the original background rhythm.

“So do you wanna be a Franchise…… And live large…… A big house…… five cars……”

The SmarkTron flares up with a blue and white photonegative image of Mak Francis, which is followed by ‘‘The Franchise’’ in large green lettering, flashing on the screen in time with the beat.

Stevens: Fans, we are so glad that you can join us tonight for SWF From the Fire! Right now, we’ve got the long awaited Iron Man match between the Champion, Danny Williams, and the challenger, Mak Francis!

Riley: This is going to be one for the ages, Stevens. Two men, one belt they both desire, and the will, strength, and endurance to wrench it from the other man’s grasp!

Stevens: Well said, though you stole it from the commercial.

As the slightly altered opening lyrics from Rock Superstar by Cypress Hill pump over the PA system, the self proclaimed franchise makes his way through the curtain. The lights come back up and Francis comes out onto the stage, tilting his shades down on the bridge of his nose, before looking left and then right……

Funyon: The following United States Title bout is under Iron Man rules! Introducing first, the challenger, weighing in at a ready 225 pounds, hailing from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania......THE FRANCHISE.................MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAK FRANCIS!

He readjusts his shades with a smirk, before slowly strolling down to ringside and after walking up the ring steps, he cockily wipes his feet on the apron, giving a mock salute to the crowd, before entering through the middle ropes. Francis climbs the nearest turnbuckle and poses with both fists raised in the air. The crowd soccer hooligans in the top rows begin to howl.....

“Let’s go Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaak, Let’s go!” clap! clap! clap!clap!clap!

Mak drops down, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the United States Champion.

Stevens: This match has building for months upon months now. It all started when the Franchise pulled off the upset of the century, and defeated Danny Williams in a non title match up last December. However, it wouldn’t be until several weeks late that Mak would get a shot at the gold. But the long wait pulled off as Mak was able....

Riley: To defeat Danny Williams with a fluke roll up out of nowhere! In the rematch, Danny Williams proved this to the world, by destroying Mak and recapturing his title!

Stevens: Well, that’s one way of looking at it. But regardless, this is Mak’s chance to prove that he is at Danny’s level once and for all. If he can survive with Danny Williams for sixty minutes, win or lose, he’s proved that he is ready for much bigger things.

Suddenly, the gentle melodies of In Flame’s “Jester’’s Dance” echoes through the arena, triggering a chorus of “boos”. Williams pushes his way through the heavy curtains draping from the locker room entrance, and slowly makes his way out to the platform.

Funyon: And his opponent, weighing in at an impressive 238 pounds, he hails from Louisville, Kentucky...................THE UNITED STATES CHAMPION.........DANNY WILLIAMSsssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss!

With the object of their hatred now in clear sight, the fans taunts become even louder. Williams lets the negative reaction bounce right off of him, and slowly makes his way down to the ring like he has all the time in the world. Upon entering the ring, Williams undoes his belt, and hands it to Soapdish, who holds it up in the air for all to see.

Stevens: That’s what it’s all about, the United States Title. In recent weeks, Danny has gone on a tear, fending off all threats to his title. But can he survive a 60 minute assault from his greatest adversary?

Soapdish hands the belt to an outside official, and gets ready to call for the bell. Suddenly, Williams explodes out of his corner, ambushing The Franchise with a flurry of elbows! Soapdish rolls his eyes, and signals for the bell!

DING! DING! DING!

Stevens: Mak, attacked before the bell by a dirty Danny Williams!

Riley: Nothing wrong with trying to get ahead in life.

Mak instinctively brings his arms up, trying his best to defend himself from the onslaught! Seeing that his elbows are now connecting with Mak’s hard forearms rather than his face, Williams ceases the attack, grabs hold of the Franchise’s left arm and slings him out of the corner with a Judo Throw! Keeping a hold of Mak’s wrist, Williams falls back, locking on a Cross Armbreaker!

Stevens: JUJI-GATAME! JUJI-GATAMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Riley: Right now, Mak has two options, submit or suffer a broken arm!

Screaming like a mad man, Mak thrashes about in agony, frantically wiggling his way towards the ropes! The nervous fans jump out of their seats, praying that the Franchise can hang on for a few more seconds!

Stevens: Or he could make the ropes!

Riley: But at what cost, Stevens? There’s no telling how much damage has been, already. Francis is a fool for risking permeant injury like this, especially with so much time left in the match! He who taps and runs away, lives to fight another day.

Stevens: Or in this case, finish the match.

Riley: Exactly.

His arm threatening to snap in half at any second, the pain growing so intense he can barely move anymore, Francis stops his squirming and desperately stretches his arm out for the ropes. But it’s still out of reach, left with no other option, Francis frantically starts tapping with his free hand!

Riley: HE’S TAPPING! HE’S TAPPING!

Stevens: I DON’T BELIEVE IT!

Soapdish immediately calls for the bell to the shock of the crowd!

DING!

Williams releases Mak, back rolls to his feet, and starts jumping up and down in triumph!

Funyon: Ladies and Gentlemen, Danny Williams has scored a submission over Mak Francis at 58 seconds into the contest. He now leads, 1 to 0.

Williams leaps up on to the second turnbuckle, pounding his chest, and shouting obscenities at the fans, who in turn, shout obscenities back at him. Mumbling curses to himself, Francis sits up, clutching his arm and grimacing.

Stevens: UNBELIEVABLE! Williams has made Mak Francis tap out in under a minute! To say that nobody saw this coming, would be a huge understatement.

Riley: Smart, smart, strategy by Danny. Come out with guns blazing, score the first point, and make the young challenger play catch up. Now Francis will have to score at least two points in order to go home with the title, because we all know that in case of a tie, the champion keeps the crown.

Stevens: Indeed, it will be an uphill battle the rest of the night for the Franchise. However, he has to remember that he’s still got 59 minutes to score those two points, which is more than enough time.

His head hung down in disappointment, Francis stands up to a respectful applause. Mak paces around a little, shaking out his arm, trying to get the feeling back.

Stevens: We all know how much Mak hates to tap out, so one can only imagine how much pain he must of have been in. But still, he did the right thing by tapping.

“Can you go on?” asks a concerned Nick Soapdish, who gets a slight nod as a response. With that, Francis impatiently goes back to his corner, eager for the match to start so he can get some payback. Williams returns to a sedated state, and gets back in his corner. With both men back in their corners and ready, Soapdish signals for the match to continue!

DING!

Stevens: Alright, here we go! Will Williams coast his way to victory or will he keep the pressure on the challenger?

Williams marches out of his corner, stands tall in the center of the ring, and waves Mak on.

Riley: Williams, reminding Francis that if he wants to win, he’s gonna have take the fight to him.

Francis doesn’t disappoint Williams, lunging at him with outstretched arms, instigating a grappler! The Franchise gains the upper hand with a Side Headlock, but in a flash, Williams has him raised off the mat.....

Stevens: DANGEROUS BACKDROP!

but Mak fires off a frenzy of hard elbows down on Williams’ neck! The pain forces Williams to sit Francis down, who in turn, spins behind him, grabs a rear waistlock, and lifts.....

Stevens: NO! GERMAN SUPLEX!

Williams puts a stop to the Suplex attempt with some sharp elbows aimed right into Mak’s temple!

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Unable to withstand the onslaught, Mak lowers Williams, who spins out of the waistlock, grabs one of his own, and heaves....

Riley: NOW, WILLIAMS IS GONNA SUPLEX HIM!

Learning from the enemy, Mak starts throwing back elbows like his life depends on it!

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

Williams finally gives in, releasing Mak, who takes off for the ropes! The Franchise gets a good bounce, and comes flying back at the United States Champion like a bat out of hell! Once in range, Mak swings his boot up for a High Kick....

Stevens: YAKUZA KICK!

which is caught! Williams releases Mak’s boot, and swiftly spins around for an elbow....

Stevens: ROLLING ELBOW!

that is blocked! Francis jogs back out of attacking range, and Williams does the same, while the fans give one hell of a standing ovation!

Riley: Stalemate!

Stevens: Both men were throwing bombs, but none of them hit their targets. They just know each other too well for that.

Williams and Mak have both broke a sweat, and are already breathing very heavy. The two rivals look at each other in disbelief, trying to catch their breath while pondering a way in which they can break through the other’s defense. The fans quiet down as the two warriors start to circle one another, carefully eyeing each other up. The two men pause, and than clash together in a collar elbow tie up! Moving quicker than the eye, The Franchise ducks down behind Williams, tripping him up with a Single Leg Takedown!

Stevens: The Franchise, taking the Champion to the mat, a place where the challenger feels much more at home.

Williams fights his way to his hands and knees, but Mak quickly secures him in a amateur waistlock. Knowing he’s out of his league, Williams starts crawling for the ropes, but Francis swiftly floats in front of him, looking to tie him up with a front facelock. However, in a rare display of mat skill, Danny spins out from underneath the Franchise, and secures him in a amateur waistlock of his own!

Riley: Sweet counter by Williams! He’s no slouch on the mat, himself.

No sooner than Williams has gained control, the Franchise slides out of his clutches, and wraps him up with another amateur waistlock.

Stevens: Williams may be no slouch, but he isn’t a 2 time All American.

Francis beautifully transitions the amateur waistlock to another front facelock, but before he can lock it in, Williams rotates out from underneath him, successfully locking on the front facelock that Mak couldn’t!

Riley: But Danny is the current United States Champion, and he’s back on top!

In a blink of an eye, the slippery challenger slips out of Williams’ arms, reversing the front facelock into a Fujiwara Armbar!

Stevens: MAK, COUNTERING WITH A SUBMISSION HOLD!

Not spending a single second in the hold that he doesn’t have to, Williams frantically rolls out of it, laying his boots across the bottom rope!

“Break!” orders Soapdish.

The Franchise backs up, allowing the embarrassed Champion to get back on his feet unmolested. The crowd gives a brief standing ovation, before finding their way back to their seats. Feeling confident for the first time in a while, Mak shoots a cocky smile at Williams, who shoots back a cold stare.

Stevens: And Danny Williams has just been taking to school!

Riley: Ah bullshit! If Mak was as good as he thinks he is, he wouldn’t have let Danny get to the ropes, and the score would be tied.

Stevens: You do have a point there, Riley. Williams may be no mat wizard, but he was still able to execute and get the submission.

Williams and Mak start shyly tippy toeing toward each other, their hands extended, and their fingers wiggling as if they are looking for a mutual Greco Roman Knuckle Lock. With an uninterested look on his face, Williams carefully locks fingers with one of the Franchise’s hands....

Thump!

Without warning, Williams pulls back his hand, and slams his shin into the back of Mak’s knee with a hard ass kick!

“Booooooooooooooooooooo!”

His leg paralyzed with pain, Mak tenses up in shock, allowing Williams to pop him with a hard Elbow Smash!

Crack!

Stunned, Mak helplessly drops to one knee, slowly shaking his head from side to side as if he’s checking to make sure nothing got knocked loose. Showing no mercy, Williams kicks Francis’ good leg out from underneath him, forcing the challenger to drop on to his hands and knees.

Riley: Williams, chopping the challenger down like a tree!

Stevens: Unable to match mat skills with the Franchise, Williams has resulted to brawling from the vertical position.

Williams casually steps over Mak’s left arm, sits on his back, scissoring the shoulder. Williams reaches underneath Francis’ belly, grabs his arm, and drops back, forcing Francis on to his back and in perfect position for the Cross Armbreaker! The fans nearly have a heart attack, but Mak wisely locks his hands together to prevent Williams from straighten his arm out!

Stevens: DANNY, LOOKING FOR THE JUJI-GATAME!

Riley: Williams is picking up right where he left off during the first fall!

Without a second to lose, Mak twists his lower body horizontally, locking his boots around the bottom rope! Soapdish orders the break, and Williams coldly obliges. The relieved fans give a small but hopeful applause.

Stevens: Francis, survived a close one there.

Riley: I’m not even sure if he knows, how close he was to going down 2-0.

Keeping his cool, but moving with haste, Williams jerks Mak up by his arm and doubles over, flipping Mak off the ropes with a flashy Judo Throw! The fans once again arise as Williams drops back for another Cross Armbreaker!

Riley: HE’S GOING FOR IT AGAIN!

This time, Mak wisely locks his hands together to keep his arm from being stretched out across Williams’ body! Williams sits up, and starts pulling with all his might on Mak’s arm, but he can’t seem to separate the Franchise’s fingers.

Stevens: NO! Mak saw it coming this time, but he can’t hold on for much longer, HE HAS TO MAKE THE ROPES!

Dripping sweat and grinding his teeth, Mak arches his back into an athletic bridge, kicks off the mat with his powerful legs, back rolling into the ropes! The fans collectively wipe their foreheads, and breathe a sigh of relief.

Stevens: The Franchise, making the ropes with an amateur style escape!

Riley: And to think, I thought that Danny was gonna try to coast his way to victory.

Stevens: I guess he figures that a 2-0 lead, might be easier to protect than a 1-0 lead.

Riley: Yeah, sometimes the best defense is a good offense or so they say.

Williams releases Mak, hurries to his feet, catching Francis with a nasty soccer kick as he climbs to his hands and knees!

Smack!

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” groans the fans, while the challenger rolls over on his back in agony. Williams jerks Mak up, takes him over and away from the ropes with a Fireman Carry, and grabs his arm for a third Juji-gatame attempt! Before Williams can fall back, The Franchise rolls over on his side, and tightly snaps his hands together like a padlock.

Stevens: Williams is not giving Mak a break, keeping him in constant guard of the Juji-gatame.

Riley: If you find something that works, stick with it until it doesn’t.

Williams strains and pulls with all his might, but Mak refuses to give in. Frustrated, Danny releases Francis’ wrist, and gives him a good kick in his exposed back!

Smack!

The crowd roars as Mak angrily rolls to his feet, looking Williams square in the eye as if to say “didn’t hurt.”. Not impressed, Williams snatches the Franchise up, and sends him to the mat with a dominating Scoop Slam!

Boom!

Mak rolls over to get up, allowing Williams to whelp his back with another punt!

Smack!

Refusing to stay down from something as insignificant as pain, the Franchise jumps to his feet anyway, catching Williams off guard with a series of blistering chops!

Smack! Smack!

Bringing a stop to this offensive burst, Williams pulls Mak’s head down by it’s hair, and repeatedly drives several hard knees into his face! Williams lets the numb faced challenger up, and hammers him with a right, left, right Elbow Smash Combo! The Franchise wobbles like he’s going to go down, but before he can, Williams takes hold of his hair and tights, and tosses him to the outside!

Riley: The Franchise, learning the hard way that he can’t hold his own with Danny at a vertical base!

Stevens: Mak was attempting to overwhelm the Champion, much like how Danny overwhelmed him just a few short weeks ago. But Williams does the smart thing, by tossing him out of the ring, a good way to extinguish some of the challenger’s fire .

Williams turns away, and wipes his forehead in relief. Upon hearing the crowd pop, Danny spins around to find Mak already sliding back in! The Franchise hurries to his feet, and drives the surprised Champion into the ropes with chest stinging chops!

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Stevens: Mak is taking the fight to the Champion!

Francis takes Williams by the hand, looking to whip him off the ropes. Mak pulls back, but the Champion hooks his free arm around the top rope, refusing to move. Realizing he’s gonna have to weaken him more, The Franchise releases Williams’ hand, and punishes him with some more chops!

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Having beaten Danny’s chest raw, Mak goes for another Irishwhip, but once again Danny stubbornly clings to the top rope! Getting a bit frustrated, the Franchise swings a wild chop, that is easily ducked!

Swoooooooosh!

Now it is Mak who has his back to the ropes, and Williams takes full advantage, popping three straight elbows into his jaw!

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Williams attempts to whip the Franchise off the ropes, but now it his attempt that is foiled by his victim’s death grip on the top rope! Finding this to be more of an annoyance than an inconvenience, Williams simply busts Mak up with a few more elbows....

Crack! Crack! Crack!

and tries again! This time, Williams finds success, sending the Franchise speeding across the ring against his will.

Riley: Mak, coming out on the losing end of that battle of wills.

Williams catches Mak on the rebound with an Abdominal Stretch, but the challenger smoothly spins out behind Williams, trapping him in the Abdominal Stretch! The fans applaud as Mak puts the pressure on Williams, stretching his hamstring to it’s limits!

Stevens: But now it’s Mak who has succeed in what Williams has failed to do!

Not going down without a fight, Williams fights his way to the ropes, only to be dragged back to the center of the ring by his tights, where Mak reapplies the Abdominal Stretch to an even bigger pop than before! Williams tries to fight his way back to the ropes, but he finds it to be much more difficult the second time around as the side of the effects the hold start to kick in. His stomach cramping and his body weakening, Williams drop to his knees a few feet short of his goal. Having something better in mind, Francis unhooks his leg from around Williams’ leg, stands it on the Champion’s back, and straightens his arms out into a modified Surfboard Stretch!

Stevens: Mak, attempting to break Williams down a piece at a time.

Riley: He really doesn’t have any other options, Stevens. With both men fresh, he couldn’t gain any advantage, so know he’s gonna have to wear Danny down, and see where he can go from there.

“Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuur!” groans Mak as he viciously pushes Williams’ torso one way, while pulling his arms the other. The slower action quiets the crowd down considerably. His arms going numb with pain, Williams urgently pushes his way up to one foot, and than the other, greatly reducing the pressure of the hold. Francis removes his boot from Williams’ back, and straightens the Champion’s arms out behind him into a Cobra Twist!

Stevens: Ah, Mak going old school with the Cobra Twist! Much like a head scissors, it’s one of those holds that requires a lot of energy to escape, while requiring very little energy from the person who’s applying. An excellent move for an Iron Man match!

The Champion simply attempts to walk his way to the ropes, but Mak anchors himself to the mat, holding Williams in place by his wrists. His he can’t take the easy way out, Williams takes a few short breaths as if he’s preparing for a lift, digs his boots into the mat, and starts vigorously pulling his arms forward like he’s doing butterfly curls on a weight machine.

Riley: What the hell is Williams doing?

Stevens: He’s attempting to reverse the Cobra Twist, by spinning out of it. It requires a lot of energy and even a lot more power! Like I said, it’s very fatiguing.

Williams makes scary weight lifting faces as he grunts and strains, exposing every detailed muscle in his massive frame as he powers his way behind Mak! Not wanting his arms broken, Mak releases Williams’ wrists, who in turn, grabs hold of his, smoothly reversing into a Cobra Twist of his own! Drenched in sweat, Williams nods his head to show every one he’s in charge here. But suddenly, Mak acrobatically somersaults forward, brutally kicking off Williams’ stomach, breaking the Cobra Twist to the “ohs” and “ahs” of the fans! Mak rolls to his feet, while Williams blows back into the ropes with the wind knocked out of him!

Riley: OH MY GOD! Did you know Mak could do that? I didn’t know Mak could do that!

Stevens: The Franchise is indeed the master of the flashy counters, but that was beyond flashy, that was inhuman!

The Franchise darts at the winded Champion, stops in front of him, pulls up, and.....

Smack!

drills him with a picture perfect Dropkick, that sends Danny tumbling through the ropes, and out on to the hard arena floor! The fans give a joyous celebration, but Francis keeps his game face, sprinting to the far side of the ring. Feeling like he just got a sledge hammer plunged into his chest, Williams painfully climbs to his feet, flinching in pain with each breath. With his target in sight, Mak darts across the ring like a bullet, propelling himself over the top rope, crushing Williams with a Pescado! The fans enthusiastically start a “FRAN-CHISE!” chant, while pumping their fists into the air!

Stevens: This place is electric! Of all the rising stars in the SWF night sky, none of them seem to be shining brighter than.....

Riley: TOM FLESHER!

Briefly breaking his cool, Mak rolls off of Williams, and gives the front roll fans a cocky Rocky pose! Turning his attention back to Williams, Mak pulls him up and rolls him back into the ring. With Williams laying parallel to the ropes, the Franchise hops on to the apron, and sling shots himself over the top rope! Flash photography goes off like machine gun fire as the Franchise drives his shoulders down into Williams’ soft stomach like a human torpedo!

Stevens: SENTON AUTOMATICOOOOOOOOO!

The Franchise rolls all the way through to his feet to an enormous applause. Williams wraps his arms around his abdomen, brings his knees into his chest, and starts rocking around in anguish. Mak kneels down in front of Williams, grabs a front facelock, and jerks him up to his feet. Mak tosses Williams’ arm over his shoulder, grabs a handful of tights, and lifts....

Stevens: Mak looking for the Vertical Suplex!

“Dah!” cries Mak as the Suplex attempt is brought to an unexpected halt, due to a Danny Williams’ leg grapevine! Feeling safe, Williams grabs a handful of Mak’s tights, and tries a Suplex of his own.....

Riley: But it’s Danny who’s gonna hit it!

but Mak blocks it, and the two start battling it out for the Vertical Suplex! They exchange grunts, and lift attempts, but neither man gets anywhere. The crowd starts to heat up, getting behind the challenger, chanting....

“FRAN-CHISE!” BOOM! BOOM! “FRAN-CHISE!”

Mak feeds off the energy of the crowd, summoning his power for one final lift attempt!

“DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”screams Mak as he hoists all 238 pounds of the Champion into the air, but Danny frantically shifts his weight back down towards the mat! Once his feet find the ground, Williams takes advantage of the exhausted challenger, immediately powering him up over his head...

Riley: Danny’s got him up!

But Mak floats out of his grasp, lands on his feet like a cat, and attempts to hook Williams up with an Abdominal Stretch! But Danny spends around behind him, and clubs him with a vertebra shattering Enzui Lariat!

Smack!

The fans “oh” as the Franchise plummets to the mat!

Stevens: Mak got in trouble, so he tried to go back to what worked previously, unfortunately Williams was a step ahead of him, this time.

With Francis laying face down on the mat, Williams takes the time to do a few toe touches and other ham string stretches, trying his best to undo the effects of Mak’s early offense. The cramping subsided, Williams pulls Mak up by his wrist, and unloads a flurry of rapid fire Knife Edge Chops into his neck!

Riley: Mini Chops! Nice to see Danny use those, again.

Danny releases Mak’s hand, who staggers back into the ropes while holding his neck and grimacing. Williams shoots Mak off the ropes, and bounces off them himself! The Franchise speeds back at the charging champion against his will, running right into a Hooking Lariat!

Smack!

Stevens: SHOTGUN LARIAT!

Mak goes heels over head in a complete 360 spin, landing hard on his stomach! The repulsed fans “oh” in sympathy, while Williams shakes out his arm. The arena grows as quiet as a church as Williams drops to his knees, rolls ELM’s corpse over, and hooks his legs for the pin!

Riley: IT’S OVER! There is no way in hell, Mak is gonna kick out of that!

ONE!

TWO!

Mak kicks out, but to say it wasn’t with much authority would be a huge understatement! Williams sits up, pounds his fist into the mat, and shouts,”Dammit!”

Stevens: Kick out at two!

While Williams curses, the Franchise rolls out of the ring, clutching his throat. Taking his time, Danny casually rolls out after Francis, who is vulnerably laying on his back. Deciding that he isn’t much of a threat at the moment, Williams starts tearing up a section of protective padding to the jeers of the crowd. Having exposed the cold concrete, Williams makes his way back over to the challenger, pulling him up with a front facelock. The terrified fans gasp as Williams walks Mak in front of the cold concrete!

Riley: ALRIGHT! He’s gonna DDT Mak on the concrete!

Stevens: Shades of their previous match, in which Williams was able to bust the Franchise open with a DDT on the concrete during a brutal assault on the outside that Mak was never able to fully recover from.

Danny gets ready to kick his legs out, but Mak bursts forward, driving Willams’ back into the guardrail!

Clank!

With Danny stunned, the Franchise fearlessly bridge back on the concrete, slamming Williams into the floor!

Riley: OUCH, THAT MUST HAVE HURT!

Stevens: NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX ON THE CONCRETE!

Mak rolls off of Williams, leaving him to agonize on the cold concrete. After over coming their shock, the fans began to chant, “HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!” The Franchise slides back into the ring, and waits on one knee for the arrival of the bruised Champion.

Funyon: 15 minutes has passed, 45 minutes remain, Danny Williams is still up 1-0.

It takes him a while, but Williams finally starts to stir, crawling on to the apron as Soapdish reaches a count of “Eight!” Mak leans down over the ropes, pulls Williams up, and wraps his arms around him in a Gut Wrench!

“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” strains Mak as he hoists Williams over the ropes, and brings him back into the ring with the Suplex!

Boom!

Mak returns to his feet with a kip up, and extends a finger to the heavens, sending the crowd into a panic of cheers.

Stevens: Mak, looking to complete the Brotherly Love sequence with a FROG SPLASH!

The fans arise as Mak marches out on to the ring and apron, and scales the turnbuckles. With the fans on their feet, Mak balances himself on the top rope, and with no regrets, free falls down at the Champion.....

Stevens: FROG SPLASH!

who rolls out of the way!

THUMP!

Mak splats face first on the mat, sending tremors throughout the arena!

“Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh!”

Stevens: NO, DANNY MOVED!

Riley: You’d have to be an idiot to get hit with the Brotherly Love sequence! Everybody knows that right after the Gutwrench, Mak is gonna go for the Frog Splash, it’s like B following A.

Still too sore to get up, Williams lays on his back, cringing with each breath he takes. Mak begins to stir, painfully climbing to his feet. But Williams is already up, rushing behind Mak, and ambushing him with a surprise Sleeperhold!

Stevens: Danny going for the SLEEEEEEEEPERHOLD!

Riley: Smart thinking. Williams is obviously to sore at the moment to attempt a high impact move, so he’s chosen to wear the Franchise down while he giving himself some time to heal.

Despite his weary legs trembling, Mak refuses to go down. Pissed at the challenger’s stubbornness, Williams starts twisting his head like a light bulb in hopes of increasing the effectiveness of the hold. Williams recklessly slings Mak back and forth with the Sleeper, giving the challenger the only opportunity for escape he needs! With great stealth and timing, Mak waits for Williams to jerk him to his side, he than casually links his hands around Williams’ waist, and suddenly bridges back!

BOOM!

The fans blow the damn roof off as Williams gets driving down hard on his back, breaking up the Sleeperhold!

Stevens: BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK DROP!

Feeling the effects of the Sleeper and exhausted from the Suplex, the Franchise lazily lays on his back, his stomach swelling in and out with heavy breaths. The Grimacing U.S. Champ on the other hand is rolling around on the mat in anguish, with his hands locked tightly around the back of his head. Showing their support, the fans start up the “LET’S GO, MAAAAAAK, LET’S GO!” chant again.

Stevens: Williams got a little to cute with the Sleeper, allowing Mak to escape with a desperation Backdrop. Now it looks like it could be any man’s match!

Riley: I don’t know, Mak still looks pretty messed up, but than again, so does Williams.

His strength returning to him, Mak sits up and wipes some sleep out of his eyes. The fans stop chanting and start cheering. Moving in slow mode, ELM forces himself up to one knee, but the next thing he knows, Williams is behind him with yet another Sleeperhold!

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! DANNY SUCKS! DANNY SUCKS! DANNY SUCKS!”

Riley: WILLIAMS, WITH ANOTHER SLEEPERHOLD!

Stevens: For the second straight time, Mak has escaped Williams’ clutches only to find himself right back where he started!

With out a second to loose, Mak hauls ass to the ropes, walking there on his knees! The challenger secures his arms around the ropes, forcing Williams to release the hold to a riotous applause! Looking very disappointed, Williams takes a deep breath, and gives his still sore cranium a rub. Williams guides the drowsy challenger to a vertical base, pops him with a couple of elbows, and whips him off the ropes. Williams takes position in the center of the ring, catching Francis in a Sleeperhold as he passes! To the delight of the fans, Mak slips out of Danny’s arms, hooking him up in the Cobra Clutch!

Stevens: MIILLION DOLLAR EXEMPTION!

Mak starts to twist Williams from side to side, sending his free arm swaying into the air like a flag in a tornado! Fading fast, Williams clings on to the gift awareness, coming up with a quick plan of escape. Before his legs can become any heavier than they already have, Danny runs into the nearest corner, catwalks up to the second turnbuckle, and kicks off! The momentum knocks Mak on his back, while carrying Williams over on top of him in a pinning predict ament!

Stevens: INCREDIBLE REVERSAL BY DANNY WILLIAMS!

Riley: MAK’S SHOULDERS ARE DOWN, WE COULD BE LOOKING AT A PIN FALL!

The fans cross their fingers as Soapdish starts the count.

ONE!

TWO!

NO! Mak pushes Williams off, and sits up, only to get trapped in a Rear Sleeperhold!

Stevens: MAK ESCAPED, BUT ONLY FIND TO HIMSELF IN A WORSE SCENARIO!

The ropes not being to far away, Mak has no trouble in scooting his way to them before any real damage can be done!

“Break!” commands Soapdish!

Williams unwraps his arms from around the Franchise’s head, but Mak is slow to get up, allowing Danny to give him yet another nasty punt to the back!

Smack!

Moving with a purpose, Williams pulls Mak up, snapmares him off the ropes, and slaps on another Sleeperhold! Francis attempts to fight his way back to the ropes, but Williams drops back, and locks his legs around his torso!

Stevens: DOUSHIME SLEEEEEEEEEEEEPER!

“Boooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!”

Francis violently thrashes his legs about, doing everything in his power to fight out of Williams’ clutches! Pouring sweat and grunting like he’s trying to hold down a bear rather than a small junior weight, Williams desperately tries to keep Mak tied up in the center of the ring! The fans show their support by chanting....

“LET’S GO MAAAAAAK, LET’S GO!” clap! clap! clap!clap!clap! “LET’S GO MAAAAAK LET’S GO!”

Fighting to stay awake, Mak summons all his remaining power to roll into the ropes! The fans clap as the pissed U.S. Champion is left with no choice but to release Francis from his clutches. In no condition to enjoy his new found freedom, Mak just lays on his side with his eyes half open.

Riley: Where the hell is Mak getting this energy from?

Stevens: I don’t know where he got it from, but it’s gone now. It looks like escaping that Sleeper took a lot out of the challenger which means it served it’s purpose.

Acting fast, Williams rushes to his feet, and yanks the drowsy challenger up with a rear waistlock. Williams pulls Mak a few steps back from the ropes, and without warning, snaps back for the Suplex!

Thump!

Mak lands hard on his upperback with his legs folder over his head, held that way by a beautiful, arching, Danny Williams bridge!

Stevens: GERMAN SUPLEX! GERMAN SUPLEX!

Riley: HE GOT HIM! THIS MAY BE IT!

The fans slide to the edge of their seats, as Soapdish starts the count!

ONE!

TWO!

TWO1/2....

NO! Mak escapes the bridge with a kick out, sparking some cheers! Not giving the Franchise a second to recover, Williams frantically sits him up, and goes right back to Sleeper! The increasingly pissed fans begin to chant.....

“DANNY SUCKS! DANNY SUCKS! DANNY SUCKS!”

Stevens: The fans are not taking to kindly to Williams repeated use of the Sleeperhold.

Riley: Fuck them! If it works, it works, give the guy a break.

Looking to speed up the process, Williams snarls as he violently twists the Franchise’s head from side to side! His eye lids growing very heavy, Francis attempts to scoot his ass back to the ropes, but they seem so far away this time. Just inches from the ropes, Mak loses consciousness, and grows limps in Williams’ arms.

Stevens: MAK IS OUT! MAK IS OUT!

Williams releases Francis, letting him lifelessly sink to the mat, where the U.S. Champion swiftly hooks him up for the pin.

Riley: HE’S GOT HIM COVERED!

ONE!

TWO!

TWO1/2...

TWO3/4....

NO! Mak shoots a shoulder up sending the hopeful fans into a frenzy. Williams sits up on his knees, wipes his nose, and lets out a disappointed sigh. Finally free, Francis goes rolls out of the ring in a blur!

Stevens: MAK GOT A SHOULDER UP!

Riley: How can this be, the Sleeper was enough to put Johnny Dangerous away?

Stevens: Mak isn’t some experienced rookie that can be sedated so easily, Riley. The Franchise is here to prove once and fall he’s ready for the big time, and he’s not gonna let a Sleeperhold stand in his way!

With a crazy look in his yes, Williams jogs backwards to the far side of the ring, watching his target closely. Mak wipes his morning eyes, and stiffly stands up like he’s just waking up. With the challenger in his sights, Williams takes off, sprinting across the ring as fast as his short, bulky legs can carry him! With no concern for his own body, The Champion dives head first over the second rope, driving an elbow into the side of Franchise’s head!

CRACK!

Mak blows back into the guardrail, and lifelessly sinks to the floor, while Danny safely lands on his feet!

Stevens: ELBOW SUICIDAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Showing no respect, Williams spit a honker at the front rolls fans, before violently jerking the woozy challenger to a vertical base. Danny tightly grabs hold of Mak’s wrist, and slings him into the corner guardrail with authority!

CLANK!

On his knees, his head hanging down, his arms slung over the guardrail, Mak helplessly awaits whatever horrible plans Williams has for him. The Champion climbs on to the apron, and runs along it with the balance of a cat! Upon reaching the edge, Williams takes flight, pounding Mak’s temple with another but equally hard Diving Elbow!

CRACK!

The front roll fans flinch upon hearing the unnerving sound of bone colliding with bone!

Stevens: ELBOW SUICIDAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! Mak, a victim of two straight Elbow Suicidas!

Holding his head like someone with a migraine, Francis slides down the guardrail into the seated position. All business, Danny drags Mak up by his hair and tights, and effortlessly sends him back into the ring. In complete control, Williams takes the stairs in route to the ring apron. Not wanting to risk an accident, Williams wipes his sweaty hands off on his tights, before beginning his journey to the top rope. Even though they hate him, the fans rise out of their seats in anticipation of the high spot that cometh.

Riley: The Champion going up stairs!

Stevens: He may be looking for his Diving Elbow. After taking two straight Elbow Suicidas, I doubt that Mak is any condition to take an even more lethal Diving Elbow from the top rope!

Elegantly balancing himself on the top rope, Danny looks down upon his adversary like a vulture waiting for the most opportunistic moment to strike. His eyes not even half open, Francis blindly staggers to his feet, goofily swinging punches at nothing. Finally his moment comes, Mak swings around to Williams’ direction, just in time to see him sweeping down at him like sometime of bird of prey!

CRACK!

Williams crashes lands on the mat, but not before he can slam a stiff ass elbow into the Franchise’s already softened temple!

Stevens: DIVING ELBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!

Riley: That was a particularly nasty one too!

Looking more like a drunk than a challenger to the U.S. title, Mak motionlessly lays on his side like a bum in a gutter. Williams also isn’t an ideal shape, rubbing his brittle ribs which he just happened to land on. Danny takes a few seconds to suck up the pain, before crawling over on top of Mak for the pin!

ONE!

TWO!

TWO1/2....

NO! Francis kicks out with probably the most minium force one can kick out of a pin with!

Riley: Mak able to avoid the pin, but he’s still in the danger zone.

Stevens: The danger zone, what the hell? Have you been watching Top Gun, again, I know how much you love the Volley Ball scene.

Riley: Shut up, Top Gun rules!

Williams doesn’t sweat it, well actually he is, considering he’s dripping with perspiration. Exhausted from stringing together three straight high flying attacks, Williams lays on the mat for a few moments in order to catch his breath.

Stevens: Williams is tired, these two have been battling hard for almost 30 minutes now! It’s hard to believe that this thing isn’t even half over yet.

Riley: Danny is no stranger to this type of match before, he’s been some in some grueling epics. Actually I think the sick son of a bitch likes these types of matches.

Stevens: Yeah, back in the SJL he’s been in a couple of 40+ minute matches with Sydney Sky and Frost. But believe me, they weren’t going as hard and fast as they are here. This is almost in comprehensible, your looking at probably two of the greatest living athletes IN THE WORLD, TODAY!

Feeling rejuvenated, Danny climbs back to his feet with the confidence that only a champion can have.

Funyon: There is now thirty minutes remaining in the match up. The score is still Williams: 1 and Francis: 0.

Williams looks to the fans, raises his arm, and extends two fingers towards the heavens. The fans respond by lowering their thumbs, while shouting taunts.

Riley: Williams letting these idiots know, that the score is about to change. You know I’m surprised that these drunken soccer hooligans can even count that high.

Stevens: Come now, Riley. Were in England not Scotland.

Riley: Same difference.

Williams controls Mak up just enough, so that he can position him in a standing head scissors. One at a time, Danny locks his hands around Mak’s waist.

Riley: Ah, it looks like a Powerbomb is on the menu, tonight.

Like any professional weight lifter, Williams takes a couple of deep breaths in preparation for the lift. While Williams goes through his breathing ritual, Mak drops to one knee. Sensing that Mak needs their support to get out of this mess, the crowd starts to heat up.

Stevens: Maybe not, Riley. Mak is sand bagging like it’s World War I.

Pissed that his breathing ritual has been interrupted by Mak’s stubbornness, Williams exclaims, “Ah Dammit!”

Williams grabs two handfuls of tights, and pulls Franchise back up on his feet. Williams re-tucks his hand underneath Francis’ belly, and resumes his breathing ritual. The crowd beings to frantically chant....

“FRAN-CHISE! FRAN-CHISE! FRAN-CHISE!”

Williams steps back, un-scissoring Mak’s head, however he keeps it held down with a handful full of hair, forcing the challenger to remain doubled over. Williams fires off a couple of dickish knees into Mak’s face, and promptly re-scissors his head! In an instant, Williams squats low to the mat for extra leverage, and lifts!

Riley: HE’S GOT HIM UP!

Just as Williams is about to turn Mak over so he can hoist him on his shoulders, his fingers break apart, allowing Francis to land on his feet in front of him! In the blink of an eye, Mak slams a stiff boot into the surprised Champion’s face with a flexible High Kick to a hopeful pop from the crowd!

Crack!

Williams staggers back into the ropes, only to bounce back with a grisly Jumping High Kick!

CRACK!

The big white boot of Danny Williams’ goes straight into Mak’s forehead!

Riley: DYNAMIC KICK! DYNAMIC KICK! THE MOST DYNAMIC MOVE IN WRESTLING TODAY!

His eyes rolling up, his head slumped back on his shoulders, Mak wobbles around like a Mortal Kombat character waiting to be finished! And finish him he does, Williams tucks the Franchise’s head down between his thighs, locks his hands around his gut, and lifts him up! Williams starts to double over, even before he get’s Francis on his shoulders, slamming him to the mat in thunderous fashion!

KA-BOOM!

Keeping his hands hooked around Mak’s thighs, Williams folds him in half, and slides down his legs for the pin!

Stevens: POWERBOMB! POWERBOMB! POWERBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMB!!!!!

The fans watch on in horror as Soapdish starts the count!

ONE!

TWO!

TWO1/2....

TWO3/4....

THREE!

NO! The fans go crazy as Mak rolls out from underneath Williams in nick of tiem!

Stevens: MAK KICKED OUT!

Riley: NO WAY! NO FUCKING WAY!

Crawling on his forearms, the delirious challenger makes his way underneath the ropes to the outside, before losing consciousness!

Stevens: Mak, wisely bailing in order to buy himself some time to recuperate from that indescribable Powerbomb! Last time he stuck around after taking the Powerbomb, Williams ended up suplexing him on his head for the big three, capturing the U.S. title that he still holds today.

Riley: And the way things are going, he’s gonna have it tomorrow too.

Williams questions Soapdish’s decision, but the young official stands by his call. Realizing that he isn’t going to get the pinfall, Williams rests on his knee for a few seconds before going out after Mak! Finding the challenger on his back, Williams struggles to get him up with a front facelock, managing to roll him back into the ring. Danny hurries back inside, and pulls Mak’s body away from the ropes by it’s arms. Knowing exactly what he wants to do, Williams guides Francis up just enough so that he can trap him in a standing head scissors. The fans gasp as the Champion pulls Mak up by his tights, into position for another Powerbomb!

Riley: HE’S GOING FOR IT AGAIN!

Stevens: I DON’T THINK MAK CAN TAKE ANOTHER POWERBOMB!

Sweat rapidly dripping off him like the water on the roof of a cave, Williams squats so low to the mat that he’s practically sitting down. With big veins bulging out of his neck like their going to bust, Williams springs up, bringing Mak up with him! Danny quickly and deeply snaps forward, bringing Francis down so hard that the back of his head bounces off the mat!

KA-BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Stevens: POWERBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMB!!!!!

Riley: THIS IS IT, WILLIAMS IS GOING UP 2 TO 0!

Williams folds Francis up, and this time actually sits down on the back of his thighs, reaches between his legs, palming the challenger’s face to hold him down!

ONE!

TWO!

TWO1/2....

TWO3/4.....

THREE!

NO! The fans blow the roof off the building as Francis somehow rolls out from underneath the Champion’s clutches! Soapdish raises two fingers high into the air, while the fans dance around in the aisles, pumping their arms into the air!

Stevens: UNPRECEDENTED FIGHTING SPIRIT! MAK HAS KICKED OUT OF NOT ONLY ONE, BUT TWO POWERBOMBS IN A ROLL!

Riley: THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING! Francis has got to be hyped up on something, PCP, crack, I don’t know! BUT THIS IS FUCKING CRAZY!

Stevens: MAK FRANCIS IS REFUSING TO GO DOWN 2-0! HE CAME HERE TO WIN THE TITLE, AND HE’S GONNA FIGHT WILLIAMS TO HIS LAST BREATH!

Williams drops back, with his face buried in his hands, unable to comprehend why Mak won’t stay down. Unable to crawl, Mak just kind of sluggishly rolls out on to the apron, remaining there on his back with his eyes closed. All of a sudden the chant picks up again....

“FRAN-CHISE!” BOOM! BOOM! “FRAN-CHISE!” BOOM! BOOM!

Panting with his tongue hanging out like a hot dog in the summer, Williams crawls over to a corner, and rests his head on to the second turnbuckle, giving him the appearance of somebody deep in prayer.

Stevens: Williams, looks like he’s asking God himself for a way to keep Mak down for the three!

Looking enlightened, Williams stands up, and makes his way over to the challenger. Slimy snot is now oozing out of Danny’s nose and running to the mat like ectoplasm, forcing him stop and take the time to wipe his nostrils a few times, before going on. Williams leans over the ropes, pulls Mak up by his hair, and brings him into the ring with a Snapmare! Mak lands hard on his ass, sitting up with a blank expression on his face, looking more stoned than some of the British heroin addicts in attendance. The Champion grabs a handful of Mak’s head, and leads him into the middle of the ring, like a pissed parent dragging their child away from the toy store. Meanwhile, the fans keep stomping and chanting away....

BOOM! BOOM! “FRAN-CHISE!” BOOM! BOOM!

Williams stuffs Francis down in a stand head scissors, and wearily wraps his arms around his stomach. Not looking to happy about it, Williams once again begins his strenuous task.

Stevens: WILLIAMS, GOING FOR YET ANOTHER POWERBOMB!

Riley: Well, third times a charm.

His arms and legs violently trembling, a purple faced Danny Williams strains his heart out, in hopes of taking a commanding lead!

“FRAN-CHISE!” BOOM! BOOM! “FRAN-CHISE!”

Like the previous two attempts, Williams lowers his knees down to the mat, and pulls!

“DAH!” cries Williams as the lift is brought to an abrupt halt by the weakness of his own arms! Williams starts huffing and puffing like he’s trying to blow down a little pig’s house, summoning all the power in his own body for one final lift.

Riley: Damn, Williams looks blown up.

Stevens: He’s killing himself, plain and simple. He’s got the lead, he should just sit back, and wait for the clock to run out.

Despite his arms feeling they are going to fall off, Danny clinches his teeth, bends his knees, and lifts!

“HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” screams Williams, as he lifts Mak off the mat....

Riley: HERE WE GO!

but Mak’s violently starts kicking his legs, shifting his weight forward, forcing the drained Champion to sit him back on the mat. The expression on his face growing more bleak by the second, Williams lays his head on Francis’ back, trying in vain to keep him in the Powerbomb set up.

BOOM! BOOM! “FRAN-CHISE!” BOOM! BOOM!

Taking advantage of Williams’ weakness, Francis desperately side steps his way to the ropes, getting a leg over the bottom one. The hoarse fans finally quit chanting, opting instead to give a big ovation.

Stevens: And it looks like fatigue is finally setting in on the United States Champion. Even though he isn’t in the best of situations, Mak has dodged a major bullet.

Riley: He didn’t dodge it, he took that sonuvabitch straight in the chest!

Stevens: Your right, Riley. Mak didn’t dodge nothing, he simply survived.

“Break!” orders Soapdish. Williams shakes his head as if he’s trying to wake himself up from some bad dream, refusing to release Mak.

“I said, Break, Danny!” warns Soapdish in a harsher tone.

Danny doesn’t listen, as if he’s in his own world, where Mak hasn’t made the ropes.

“Let him go Danny, or I’ll D.Q. your ass!” threatens the official in a intimidating voice.

Looking gloomy, Williams finally accepts what’s happened, and releases The Franchise! However he isn’t ready to lay down and die just yet, more determined than ever, Williams drags Mak off the ropes by his tights, pulling him to the hellmouth that is the center of the ring. Williams ducks his head down under Francis’ arm pit, and links his hands around his waist!

Stevens: Williams going for........THE DANGEROUS BACKDROP!

Riley: This is what put Mak down in their last match!

The fans cry out in terror, as Williams lifts Mak into the air and bridges back....

Stevens: DANGEROUS BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACKDROP!

but Danny can’t get him up the all way as he falls backwards, allowing Francis to shift his weight, and land on top of Williams with a lateral press! Soapdish drops down for the count, but before he can start it, Williams forcefully shoves Mak off, sending him rolling towards the ropes like a body tumbling down hill!

Stevens: NO! HE COULDN’T GET HIM UP!

Riley: Man, Williams is spent.

Stevens: Williams saw an opportunity to take a commanding 2 to 0 lead, he gambled, and it didn’t pay off. Now he’s left exhausted and broken down, the score is still 1 to 0, and we’ve still got a lot of time on the clock.

Riley: True, but Mak isn’t exactly a spring chicken either. I mean this guy, has just gotten the living hell Powerbombed out of him. Danny’s got a way better chance of coming back than him.

Looking like some one who’s just gone 12 round with Frost, Mak wearily begins feeling for the ropes with quivering hands. Williams sits up, swipes some more dangling snot off his nose, and climbs to his feet with a sigh. The fans have slightly cooled down, finding their seats once again. Unable to even keep his head straight, Mak clings to the top rope with a single hand, trying to find the power to stand up. But he doesn’t have to, because Williams is there to help him the rest of the way up. The Champion whips Mak off the ropes, but the challenger hangs on, and pulls Danny into a front waistlock! The Franchise bends his knees low to the mat, and launches Williams into the air like a space ship!

BOOM!

Pop goes the fans as Williams crash lands hard on his back, bouncing across the mat like a stone skipping along a pond!

Stevens: WHAT A THROW!

Riley: I didn’t think Mak had it in him!

Williams is up in a flash, but his knees cave in, sending him back to the mat from whence he came! Realizing he’s too out of it to go on, the champ instinctively rolls out of the ring to the safety of the floor.

Riley: Oh man, Danny is hurt!

Stevens: I’m not surprised. Even though he’s just taking one hell of a beating, I don’t think anybody executes a better Railgun Suplex, than Mak Francis.

Riley: Well, except for maybe one guy.

Stevens: Let me guess.......Tom Flesher?

Riley: Damn straight!

Francis remains on his back, drifting in and out of consciousness. Knowing that if he can get up, Williams is as good as finished, the fans begin an encouraging chant...

“LET’S GO MAAAAAAAK! LET’S GO!” clap! clap! clap!clap!clap!

In almost the exact same fashion, Williams also lays on the floor, his eyes glazing over as Soapdish starts to count him out. Needless to say, there is no chant to encourage him.

“One!”

“Two!”

“Three!”

Despite everything sounding like it’s underwater, Williams manages to hear the count, forcing himself to sit up.

“Four!”

“Five!”

Francis rolls to the ropes, and once more tries to use them to pull himself up. It takes him a few attempts, but this time he gets up on his own. The fans cease to chant and start too madly cheer.

“Six!”

“Seven!”

Helplessly moving in slow mode, Williams crawls his way up on the apron, where he just lays. His body glistering with sweat, Francis staggers his way over to Williams, leans over the ropes, and pulls him up....

Crack!

Williams surprises Mak with a weaker than usual but still brutal Elbow Smash! Mak takes a few steps back, shaking his head, but comes right back for more. And more he gets, Williams pulls back hard on the ropes, using them to sling shot himself forward, driving a lethal elbow into the jaw of the dazed challenger!

CRACK!

Francis flies back to the mat, where he causelessly crawls around without a clue as to what he’s doing.

Stevens: Dear god what a shot!

Riley: Talk about using the environment to your advantage.

Stevens: Indeed, smart thinking by the Champion. At the moment, Danny’s elbows don’t have the same knockout power that they normally do, so he just used the ropes to make up for it.

Using the ropes for support, Williams hobbles along the apron, until he reaches the ring post. Moving rather gingerly, Williams scales the turnbuckles, making his way to the top rope. Williams looks down at his target, but to his surprise, it’s up and moving. Mak aimlessly wobbles around, and than flings his arms over the top rope! The men in the audience let out a collective “oooooooooooooooh” as Williams loses his balance, and crouches himself! His eyes lit up with pain, Williams sits frozen on the top turnbuckle with his mouth hanging open like he wants to scream but just can’t!

Stevens: That will put you in the Soprano section!

Riley: Dammit, now that was initial!

Stevens: Doubtful, Riley. I think Mak could legally be declared dead at this point, in other words, he’s not really in any condition to intentionally score with a low blow while making it look like an accident.

Riley: It’s not exactly rocket science, Stevens. He just threw himself on the damn ropes!

Seeing Danny’s shadow hanging over him, Mak looks up to find the frozen champion perched on the top turnbuckle. Francis slowly makes his way to the corner, making sure to give Williams a couple chops, before climbing up with him!

Smack! Smack! Smack!

The fans rise out of their seats in ah as Francis bravely goes all the way up to the top rope, and pulls Williams up with him by his tights! Careful to maintain his balance, Mak hooks his arms around Williams with a Gutwrench to the amazement of the fans!

Riley: What the hell is he up too?

Stevens: YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!

Mak takes a couple deep breaths as if he’s summoning all his courage for the strength to pull off the risky move he’s about to take.

“Aaaaaaaaaaah!” screams Mak as he lifts Williams upside down, and drops straight back like he’s the one nicknamed “Deathwish”!

KA-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Mak breaks Williams’ thick body in half with a Super Gut-wrench Suplex, that threatens to shake the ring apart!

Stevens: OH MY GOD, WILLIAMS IS DEAD!

Riley: HOLY SHIT, YOU DON’T SEE THOSE TOO OFTEN!

Both men lay motionlessly on their backs, while Soapdish turns away in horror. With their arms in the air, the fans start jumping up and down, screaming their heads off! Trembling with pain, Mak gradually rolls over, laying an arm across Williams’ chest! Soapdish puts his horror aside, hits the deck, and starts the count! The fans shout along.....

Stevens: THIS IS IT, FRANCIS HAS TIED THIS THING UP!

“ONE!”

“TWO!”

“THREE!”

NO! Williams shoots a shoulder up to the disappoint of the fans!

Stevens: SO CLOSE!

Riley: The United States Champion, refusing to stay down, even after taking such a hellaish suplex!

To tired and hurt to be disappointed, Mak only has one thing on his mind. Francis crawls out on to the ring apron, and painfully pulls himself up with the ring post! Still on their feet, the hot crowd goes ape shit as Mak ascends the turnbuckles!

Stevens: THE FRANCHISE PREPARING TO FLY!

Riley: I hope your in the mood for some Brotherly Love, Stevens!

Stevens: huh?

Francis nervously balances himself on the top rope, pausing as if he has second thoughts. Mak takes a deep breath, says a prayer to himself, and without thinking twice, bravely takes the plunge! Camera flashes go off like strobe lights as the Franchise changes direction in mid air, and crushes Williams with a Frog Splash!

Stevens: HE HIT! HE HIT! FROG SPLASH! FROG SPLASH!

Once again, the fans count along at the top of their lungs!

“ONE!”

“TWO!”

“THREE!”

NO! Williams some how wiggles a shoulder up to the shock of the fans!

Stevens: COUNT OF TWO, ONLY!

Riley: DANNY, DIGGING DEEPER THAN EVER BEFORE! And look at Francis, he can’t believe it!

With a heart broken expression on his face, Mak rolls off Williams, and sits up on knee. Sweat is literally pouring of Francis now, while he ponders his next move. Looking completely out of it, Williams stands up, but flops right back down on his BUTT! The Franchise takes a deep breath, walks up behind Williams, and pulls him up into a rear waistlock to the delight of the fans!

Stevens: HE’S GOING FOR A GERMAN!

before Mak can bridge back, Williams lunges for the ropes, securing his arms around them!

Riley: NO, WILLIAMS MADE THE ROPES!

Grunting and straining, Francis tries to drag Williams off the ropes, but he’s got a death grip! Crying out in frustration, Mak releases Williams, spins him around, and pounds his chest with a couple of Closed Fist Chops.

March 17, 2003

Smack! Smack!

Francis takes hold of the dazed Champion’s wrist, and shoots him off the ropes, but Williams hangs on, pulling Mak into a lethal Short-arm Back Elbow!

Crack!

It nails the Franchise right in the temple, knocking him through the second rope, and out on to the apron. In no condition to take control of the match, Williams drops to his knees, and flops face down on the mat.

Riley: Wow, he rocked Mak with that one!

Stevens: Danny, looking to mount a comeback, with the most reliable weapon in his arsenal, his elbows.

His head throbbing, Francis climbs back into the ring, and struggles to get Williams back up on his feet so he can return the favor! Mak guides the weary Champion up, only to get absolutely decimated with a Back Elbow Smash out of nowhere!

CRACK!

Mak crumbles to the mat, holding his aching head and screaming. The once hot crowd cools down a little, sitting back down.

Riley: MAK IS DOWN!

Stevens: He has taking countless elbows throughout the duration of this match, and it looks like it’s catching up with him!

Williams lays on the mat for a few seconds, breathing heavy, before attempting to stand up. Not wanting to fall on his ass again, Williams rolls to the ropes, and uses them to steady himself as he gets up. By this time, Francis is also making his way back to his feet. Knowing he has to keep the challenger back down at all costs, Williams launches himself off the ropes, blasting Francis as he gets up with a vicious Running Elbow!

CRACK!

It connects right with Francis temple, who sinks to the mat like a deflated balloon, but he’s not alone, Williams also goes down with the momentum.

Stevens: RUNNING ELBOOOOOOOOOOOW, AND THE CHALLENGER IS DOWN!

Williams lays on his back once again, summoning all his remaining power for one final run.

Stevens: Francis is letting this thing slip away, it’s hard to believe that Williams was just inches from being pinned a few short moments ago.

Riley: It appears as if Williams is doing just enough to keep Francis down, so he can charge up and make a more serious offensive move.

Stevens: Besides what’s the rush, time is on the Champion’s side. He cannot allow himself to get burned out again, because I honestly don’t see him coming back a second time.

Feeling a little revived after his brief rest, Williams climbs back to his feet, and takes a seat on the second turnbuckle of the nearest corner. Williams wipes some sweat out of his tired eyes, patiently waiting for Francis to find his way to his feet.

Stevens: Danny has found his second wind, and it looks like he’s sizing Francis up for something.

Suffering from a killer migraine, Mak blindly staggers to his feet just as Williams anticipated. Taking big, wide, steps, Williams spins out of the corner, and hammers Mak with a skull shattering Rolling Elbow!

CRACK!

A sweat cloud flies into the air as Francis spirals to the mat!

Stevens: ROLLING ELBOW! ROLLING ELBOW! ROLLING ELBOOOOOOOOOOOOW!!!!

Riley: FRANCIS IS OUT! FRANCIS IS OUT!

Williams drops down on top of Mak, and hooks a leg for the pin!

ONE!

TWO!

TWO1/2....

TWO3/4.....

NO! Francis gets a shoulder up, just seconds before Soapdish can bring his hand down a third and decisive time! The arena rattles with the stomps of a thousand feet, hoping that Mak can some how find a way to overcome the odds.

Stevens: MAK IS NOT GIVING UP, HE STILL HAS SOME FIGHT LEFT IN HIM!

Riley: I got to give credit where credit is do.........................that Danny Williams is one bad ass mother fucker.

Stevens: Riley!

Riley: It’s cool, it’s cool, where on Pay Per View.

His hands rested on his hips, Williams sits up on his knees and lets out an exhausted sigh. The Champion takes position behind Mak, and pulls him up by his tights! The fans gasp in horror as Williams links his hands around Mak’s stomach, and tosses him over head without hesitation!

Thump!

Mak lands hard on the back of skull, the momentum carrying his legs all the way over his head! The fans still give a pop, because, well it’s a head drop.

Stevens: GERMAN SUPLEX! DANGEROUS GERMAN SUPLEX!

Riley: Not only has Williams scored the first point of the match, he has scored the first head drop as well!

Williams is slow to get up from the comfort of the mat, but he knows he has to keep the heat on the challenger. The Champion crawls over to Mak, pushes the Franchise’s legs back to their natural position, places his hands underneath Mak’s head, and sits his corpse up. Williams ducks his head down under Mak’s arm, and lifts him upright. Knowing what’s in store for the challenger, the crowd gets their camera’s ready in hopes of capturing the grisly move on film.

Riley: Williams, position Mak for what can only be the DANGEROUS BACKDROP!

Stevens: That is if he can hit it this time.

Williams tightly links his hands around his semi-conscious adversary, and archs back at a sickening high angle, driving Mak’s skull into the mat!

Thump!

Francis lands with both his legs pointed straight up towards the sky, and for a brief moment he’s completely vertical until gravity kicks in, causing him to fall down on his back!

Stevens: DANGEROUS BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACKDROP!!!!!!!

Riley: IF THAT DOESN’T KEEP MAK DOWN, NOTHING WILL!

Williams rolls over on top of the Mak’s lifeless body, and holds him down with a Greco Roman Knuckle Lock!

ONE!

TWO!

TWO1/2....

TWO3/4....

THREE!

NO! Francis kicks out to the shock of everyone in the building! Williams rolls over on his back, with his face buried in his hands. Francis takes the opportunity to very, very, very, slowly roll out on to the apron, while the crowd goes crazy!

Stevens: HE KICKED OUT! HE KICKED OUT! MAK FRANCIS HAS KICKED OUT OF THE DANGEROUS BACKDROP!

Riley: BUT IT WORKED BEFORE, HOW THE HELL IS THIS POSSIBLE!

Stevens: I HAVE NEVER SEEN ANYBODY SO DRIVEN, SO DETERMINED, AS THAT MAN IN THE RING! HE IS ON A WHOLE NEW LEVEL, TONIGHT!

Riley: I don’t think anybody has ever kicked out of Danny’s Dangerous Backdrop before!

Stevens: Actually, Renegade kicked out of it at Genesis last year.

Riley: Really, what happened?

Stevens: Danny got his ass handed to him like never before.

Riley: Oh shit.

Williams over comes his shock, and slowly climbs back to his feet. Drenched in sweat and looking half dead, Williams staggers out on to the apron with Francis’ body. Williams stiffly bends down to pick Francis up, but to his annoyance, he rolls back into the ring, not stopping until he goes out the other side, free falling all the way down to the floor. The crowd considerably quiets down.

Stevens: Mak using some rather clever stalling tactics to give himself some time to recover from that sickening Head Drop.

Riley: For god sake, Danny! The man is dead, all he can do is roll around, just get his ass back in the ring, and finish him!

Williams throws up his arms in disgust, climbs back into the ring, and stalks after the Franchise. The Champion drops down to the floor, finding Mak laying in a lifeless heap on the protective padding. It takes him a couple of tries, but Williams eventually gets the limp challenger back in the ring. Feeling he has things back in control, Danny takes his time in sliding back into the ring, but to his surprise Mak has already rolled back out of it! Frustrated, Williams slams his fist into the match and mumbles inaudible profanities.

Stevens: Easier said than done, Riley. Mak is avoiding the ring like the plague, because like the plague, the ring is inevitable death.

Riley: Well, shit! Just let him get counted out than. A point is a point, after all.

Stevens: But that’s just what Mak wants, he wants Williams to give him as much time as possible to recover, before he has to reenter the ring. Danny has to stay on him, and strike now why he’s got him hurt.

Danny slides right back out of the ring, stomping his way over to the Franchise. Williams hooks his hands underneath Mak’s chin, and pulls him to his feet!

Crack!

Mak nails Williams with a hard right hook to the jaw! Stunned but only momentarily, Williams comes back with a mean spirited elbow!

CRACK!

Mak is stunned and stays that way, allowing Williams to grab his hair and toss him back into the ring! Williams pops his jaw a couple of times, before sliding back in. Danny jerks the Franchise up by his arm, wraps it around his head, and grabs a waistlock!

Stevens: HE’S GOING FOR ANOTHER DANGEROUS BACKDROP!

Riley: TWO DANGEROUS BACKDROPS! That’s a good way to give a guy brain damage, but Mak brought this on himself.

With his free hand, Francis reaches outward for the ropes, however they are further away than they appear in his distorted line of sight. With no trouble at all, Williams pulls the Franchise back to the center of the ring, and lifts him up, causing the fans to have a heart attack! Williams gets Mak on his shoulder, when suddenly, the Franchise’s outside arm swings around, jamming a hard thumb directly into Danny’s wide open eye!

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” screams Danny, dropping Francis, so he can rub at his burning eye.

Riley: HE POKED HIM IN THE EYE, WHAT A DICK!

Stevens: So you disapprove?

Riley: Hell no, if you can’t win fair, fight dirty, that’s my motto. You should also fight dirty even if you can beat the other guy fair, it makes winning a lot easier.

The crowd gives a mixed reaction, as Soapdish pulls Williams’ hands away so he can check out his eye, which is gushing water like a river.

Funyon: Fifteen minutes! There are fifteen minutes remaining in the match!

Taking full advantage of the situation he’s created, Mak pitifully crawls his way to a corner, where he starts pulling himself up. Spotting this out of his good eye, Danny pushes Soapdish out of the way, and rushes Mak as gets up...

CRACK!

Williams slams a grisly Running Reverse Elbow into the Franchise’s temple! Mak slumps back in the corner, his eyes vacant, looking at nothing. Keeping one eye tightly shut, Williams walks back to the cross corner, where he collapses on his knees from exhaustion.

Stevens: Damn, Damn, Damn! How many shots to the head can the Franchise take? Just watching this is making my head hurt.

Soapdish snaps his fingers in front of Mak’s face while asking him if he can go on, the Franchise responds by blankly looking at the official like he’s speaking a foreign language. His eye finally open, Williams stands up in his corner, and hacks up a honker which he spits out of the ring. Suddenly, Soapdish dives out of the way, as Williams sprints across the ring, and crashes into Mak with another Back Elbow Smash!

CRACK!

Francis slides all the way down in the corner, ending up on his ass. Looking like he’s just hopped in a swimming pool with his clothes on, the sweat soaked Champion makes his way back to the cross corner. Danny turns to face, Mak, and starts waving for him to “get up!”

Stevens: It looks like Danny has finally decided to put his ego aside, give up on his hopes of a second pinfall, and just due enough to keep the Franchise down for the next ten to fifteen minutes.

Almost instinctively, Mak begins weakly pulling himself up with the ropes, but his hands slip and he ends up right back on his ass. Determined to go on, Mak just starts over while the once quiet crowd starts to cheer him on......

“Let’s go Maaaaaak, Let’s go!” clap! clap! clap!clap!clap! “Let’s go Maaaaak, Let’s go!”

Once the challenger is up right, Williams predictably speeds out of his corner for another big Reverse Elbow....

CRACK!

running right into the extended boot for the Franchise, that connects stiffly with the Champion’s ear!

Stevens: HIGH KICK, MAK GOT HIS BOOT HIS UP!

Pushing his head down into his shoulder like he’s got water in his ear, Williams turns his back, and staggers back to the center of the ring! However in a matter of seconds, Williams surprisingly spins around, and comes charging back at the challenger only to find that the Franchise is steam rolling towards him as well! The fans rise out of their seats as the two play a human game of chicken, threatening to crash together in a head on collision!

CRACK!

Mak extends his leg at the last possible second, knocking Williams out of his boots with a super stiff Running High Kick! Unable to contain themselves any longer, the fans jump out of their seats with their arms held high over their heads!

Stevens: YAKUZA KICK! YAKUZA KICK! YAKUUUUUUUUUUUUUUZA KICK!

The Franchise runs right into the ropes, throwing his arms over them in a desperate attempt to stay on his feet. Williams rolls over on his stomach, and with raised eyebrows, nervously turns his head from side to side like he doesn’t know where he is, or how he got there! A thick stream of dark, almost black, blood starts to run out of the Champion’s ear, slowly making it’s way down his neck.

Riley: THE CHAMPION DOESN’T KNOW WHERE HE IS!

Stevens: AND THERE’S STILL PLENTY OF TIME OF ON THE CLOCK! CAN MAK FOLLOW UP ON THE YAKUZA KICK, AND STRING TOGETHER AN OFFENSE THAT CAN KEEP DANNY DOWN FOR THE THREE!

Mak steadies himself with the ropes, brings one hand to the side of his head like he’s trying to hold down swelling, and with the other hand, motions for Williams to get up. The fans cheer with anticipation as Williams almost mechanically pushes his way to his feet, clueless to the grisly plan that Mak has in store for him! Now that Danny is up, the Franchise explodes off the ropes at him......

CRACK!

murdering Williams with a second Yakuza Kick! Mak’s boot his Williams right under the chin, knocking him flat on his back in a cloud of sweat!

Stevens: YAKUZA KICK! THE CHAMPION IS DOWN! THE CHAMPION IS DOOOOOOOOOOOOWN!

Mak staggers a few steps off balance, and once again, collapses into the ropes. Williams is out on his back, his mouth hanging open, and his eyes shut like he’s asleep. His forehead wrinkled from his migraine, Mak winces a few times, and staggers over to Williams.

Funyon: Five minutes! There is now five minutes remaining in the contest!

The fans are now giving a constant pop as Mak squats down, and props Williams’ corpse up.

Stevens: CAN THE FRANCHISE BEAT THE CLOCK!

Riley: HE BETTER BE WORRYING ABOUT BEATING DANNY FIRST!

Moving at a somewhat quicker pace, the Franchise strains to get Williams upright with a rear waistlock!

Stevens: HE’S GOING FOR A GERMAN!

His senses returning to him, Williams dives for the ropes like his life depends on it!

Riley: NO! THE CHAMPION MADE THE ROPES!

Finding energy from no telling where, The Franchise violently rips Williams off the ropes by his tights, and once again sets him up for the German Suplex! Williams starts helplessly swinging wild elbows behind his head, but they are slow and weak, having no effect on the challenger.

Stevens: DANNY’S ELBOWS, HIS MOST RELIABLE WEAPONS, ARE NO LONGER ENOUGH TO SAVE HIM!

Mak bends his knees, and with deceptive power, lifts Williams straight up, and throws him back!

THUMP!

Williams lands hard on his upper back, but Mak isn’t done yet, he keeps his hands tightly locked around his stomach, rolls him over, and drags him back to his feet!

Riley: HE’S GOING FOR ANOTHER!

Stevens: ROLLING GERMANS COMING UP!

Wobbly and barely conscious, Williams reaches out for the ropes with weary zombie like hands, but that’s all he does. Francis takes a couple of deep breaths, closes his eyes to prevent sweat from dripping in them, and with a mighty heave tosses Williams’ back!

THUMP!

And just like that Williams goes from a zombie to a corpse!

Riley: HE’S KILLING THE HELL OUT OF THE CHAMPION!

Once again, Mak rolls Williams over, and attempts to get him back on his feet!

Funyon: Three minutes are left in the match! Three minutes are left in the match!

Every muscle in Mak’s upper body becomes visible as he powers Danny’s limp body up in position for another German! Williams is dead, his arms are lifelessly dangling to his sides, and his head is hanging down towards the mat, but Mak somehow gets him upright. The fans “Ah” as Mak brings his arms up, clamping them around Danny’s neck in a full nelson! No sooner than he locks it on, Mak releases one of Danny’s arms so that he can clutch the wrist of the still secured left arm, pulling it around William’s throat in a Cobra Clutch!

Stevens: WHAT’S THIS?

Francis pauses for a second, letting everyone in the building get a picture, before he snaps back!

THUMP!

Williams comes dangerously close to landing right on the top of his head, unfortunately, he still lands on the upper back of it! Danny’s neck makes a sick pop as the rest of his body folds overhead, leaving him face down on the mat!

Riley: OH SWEET JESUS, WILLIAMS IS DEAD!

Stevens: MILLION DOLLAR PLEX! MILLION DOLLAR PLEX! CAN THE FRANCHISE MAKE THE COVER!

The building shakes with the rumble of the fans, as the exhausted challenger, crawls over to Williams, rolls him over, and just lays on top of him for the pin.

Stevens: HE’S GOT HIM! HE’S GOT HIM!

The pumped fans, who are still standing, scream along with Soapdish’s count!

“ONE!”

“TWO!”

“THREE!”

NO! Williams somehow wiggles a shoulder up! The fans let out a disappointed sigh as Soapdish raises to two fingers in the air!

Stevens: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOH, SO CLOSE! MAK WAS JUST INCHES FROM TYING UP THE MATCH!

Riley: DANNY WILLIAMS IS NOT HUMAN!

No time to argue with the official, Mak quickly rolls Williams back over on his stomach, and slaps on a front facelock. The fans quietly watch on as The Franchise drapes Danny’s arm over his shoulder, and stands up! Mak encounters great difficulty in getting the rubber legged Champion up, but with the aid of his tights he manages to get him on his feet. Realizing what’s coming up, the fans combust into the biggest pop of the night! Francis reaches down to cradle Williams’ leg, but the Champion drops to one knee in a final act of desperation!

Funyon: ONE MINUTE! THERE IS ONE MINUTE REMAINING IN THE MATCH!

Keeping his cool, but not losing his determination, Mak just reaches down, hooks his hand behind Williams’ knee, and pulls him back up to a vertical base! There is no catch phrase this time or emotional scream, Mak just lifts Williams straight up towards the horizon! Camera lights silhouette the Franchise as he jumps back, planting the Champion’s skull into the mat at a perfect 90 degree angle!

THUMP!

Williams bounces off his skull like a basketball, and lifelessly lands on his back!

Stevens: FRANCHISE TAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAG!!!!!!

The Franchise scrambles over on top of Danny’s carcass as quickly as he can, and hooks a limp leg for the pin. The sore throated fans, screech along...

“ONE!”

“TWO!”

“THREE!”

Soapdish calls for the bell that is barely audible over the deafening cries of the fans!

Funyon: Ladies and Gentlemen at 59 minutes and 15 seconds, Mac Francis has scored a pinfall over Danny Williams. The score is now tied at one a piece!

Feeling re-energized by the emotional high, Mak jumps to his feet, and eagerly takes position in his corner. Soapdish checks Williams’ pulse, finding that he is still alive, he produces some smelly sauce and runs underneath his nose. One whiff, and Danny is awake.

Stevens: MAK FRANCIS HAS TIED IT UP WITH UNDER A MINUTE TO GO! HE HAS FORTY FIVE SECONDS TO SCORE ANOTHER POINT, AND HE CAN WALK AWAY WITH THE TITLE!

Riley: But how is he going to score a point in under a minute......you don’t think?

Soapdish helps Williams up, and walks him to the corner like he’s blind. Blood running out of his ear, his eyes glassy and dilated, Williams blankly looks around with a confused look on his face, not knowing what the hell is going on. The crowd is going crazy, everyone and I literally mean everyone is stand in awe. Francis regains his composure, and extends his leg out like someone who’s fixing to run a race. With both men in their corners, Soapdish calls for the bell.

DING!

Mak explodes out of his corner, crushing his lobotomized opponent’s face with a Yakuza Kick! Francis takes a hold of Danny’s arm, and slings him out of the corner with a Judo Throw, which he transitions right into a Cross Armbreaker! Going on pure instinct, Danny locks his hands together, blocking the hold!

Riley: I KNEW IT!

Stevens: MAK USING HIS DANNY’S OWN STRATEGY AGAINST HIM! IF IT WORKED FOR HIM, SURELY IT CAN WORK FOR THE FRANCHISE!

Mak sits up, takes hold of Williams’ wrist, and falls back, breaking his fingers apart, and successfully locking on the feared submission hold!

Stevens: HE’S GOT IT LOCKED IN! JUJI-GATAMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Williams screams become in audible as the crowd starts to count down....

“TEN!”

Riley: COME ON, DANNY! HANG IN THERE!

“NINE!”

“EIGHT!”

The Franchise starts sitting up, and pulling back, over and over again.

“SEVEN!”

“SIX!”

Stevens: HE’S NOT GONNA MAKE IT! THERE’S JUST NOT ENOUGH A TIME!”

“FIVE!”

His eyes watering with pain, which actually look a lot like tears, Williams extends his free arm in position for a quick tap out!

Riley: DON’T DO IT DANNY, YOU’VE ONLY GOT FOUR SECONDS LEFT!”

“FOUR!”

Danny starts to hear and the feel the ligaments in his arm tearing, as the pressure in his elbow builds to the breaking point!

“THREE!”

The pain unbearable for a even second more, Danny starts frantically tapping out, and the crowd goes nuts! Upon seeing this, Soapdish calls for the bell!

DING!

Francis back rolls to his feet, and starts jumping up and down in disbelieve as to what he’s just done.

Stevens: HE’S TAPPING! DANNY WILLIAM IS TAPPING OUT! NEW CHAMPION! NEW CHAMPION! NEW CHAMPIOOOOOOOOOON!!!!!

The fans prematurely start to celebrate, dancing in the aisles, while throwing everything that isn’t nailed down into the air like it’s a soccer riot. The noise reaches ear shattering levels, consuming all sound, and replacing it with the high pitched screams of the fans.

Stevens: IT’S PANDEMONIUM! I HAVE NEVER SEEN A CROWD GO THIS WILD BEFORE! THEY ARE IN CELEBRATION, CELEBRATION OF MAC FRANCIS’ VICTORY OVER DANNY WILLIAMS!

Funyon attempts to make the official announcement, but nobody can hear it, so he just gives up! Refusing Soapdish’s help, Williams rolls over on his stomach, with his face buried in his hands, upset at himself more than anything.

Riley: Are they even going to let the last two seconds, play out!

Stevens: They have to, it’s the rules, though this match is technically over!

Williams crawls back to his corner, and pulls himself up, tucking his bad arm close to his chest. Soapdish orders the celebrating Franchise back to his corner, so they can finish the match. The crowd’s cheers morph into a well rousing, “FRAN-CHISE!” chant as Soapdish calls for the bell.

DING!

Williams painfully limps out of the corner, and extends his hand towards the Franchise. Mak cautiously approaches Williams, and right as the buzzer goes off, shakes Williams’ hand!

BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!

The fans settle down, and give a much more civilized ovation as the two rivals bury their feud with a handshake.

Funyon: The winner of the match by a score of 2-1.......AND NEW UNITED STATES CHAMPIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON..................MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAK FRANCIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

After shaking Mak’s hand, Williams rolls out of the ring, and into the arms of several ring side emergency paramedics. As the doctors help Williams up the ramp, the fans “FRAN-CHISE!” tour, morphs into heart felt, “DAN-E” cheer.

Stevens: Williams showed a lot of guts tonight, he could have just coasted his way to victory after going up early, but instead he decided to bravely fight it out to the end, earning the respect of the thousands in attendance!

Back in side, Mak is presented with the U.S. Title to huge applause! The Franchise hops up on the second turnbuckle, and raises the title over his head, thousands of hands join his, all out stretched in triumph.

Stevens: Mak has survived sixty minutes of hell, to finally realize his dream and recapture the Untied States Title.

Riley: Bah, enough of this sentimental garbage. I'm ready to see TNT tear ELM a new asshole!

March 17, 2003

“Thump...”

The sound of a heartbeat resonates while a black and white picture of a man’s flexing biceps and pecs flashes on the screen and quickly fades off...

“Thump...”

Now a picutre of the same man’s thighs flashes on and off in the same manner...

“Thump...”

Then one of his hands, fingers clenching tighter and tighter...

“Thump...”

Then, a shot of his shoulders and neck from behind...

“Thump...”

Then a mostly shadow-covered face...

And silence.

Then, we hear heavy breathing from behind a dark screen. After two such breaths, we fade into the black-and-white shot of a man, cloaked by a hooded sweater, sitting on a stool, the only illumination a single light bulb from above. Dark, heavy organ music begins to play as we focus on the man. His breath is heavy, his body slightly trembles with each inhalation and exhalation of air, a voice speaking over the man on the screen...

“For too long, I have been ignored...”

The screen grows fuzzy, as if the signal were lost, barely visible through the blur a thunderous powerslam by a man unknown... perhaps this man. The screen re-adjusts and the picture is once more clear, revealinhg a close-up on the man’s upper body.

“Long have I been called a JOKE...”

The screen grows fuzzy again, but while we see nothing, we hear boos from a crowd before the picture clarifies, now showing the man’s hooded head, face shrouded in shadows, his breathing becoming a bit more normal and controlled as the organ music continues to play.

“But never again shall that happen... for now... they will see my true power... my true anger... my true vengeance...

...my true rage...”

The screen distorts with fuziness for a third time, this time, more brief clips of moves can be seen:

The crossface...

...a flapjack...

...a Roll of the Dice...

...a scissors kick...

...a five-star frog splash...

...a gore...

...an Inverted DDT...

As the clips cycle, we can’t see who it is, but it becomes clearer, as behind the clips, a guitar riff plays, growing in intensity and pitch. They flow seamlessly from one to another, the cycle of clips increasing in speed and repeating faster and faster, fading slowly away into the picture of the man as he lifts his hands up to his hood and grabs hold, pulling it back while he lifts his head, revealing his face and a pair of sunglasses shielding his eyes. He draws his right hand to the sunglasses and whips them off as the guitar riff reaches the apex and holds, revealing a familiar face...

...The face of The Nightmare.

He stands firm and tall, his mouth opening to finish:

“...Your final nightmare is about to begin.”

The riff still holds as the screen goes black, except for white writing, reading:

MICHAEL CRAVEN

The Nightmare Begins Anew... Soon...

The shot quickly cuts back to Craven, still standing at the camera, now scowling in anger.

“You have been warned...”

And then, he lets out an anger-filled cry and swings at the camera, which abruptly loses picture, going fuzzy before it fades to black, the only sound the sound of a lost audio feed...

March 17, 2003

... It's a team thing ...

... A group forced to break their unity ...

... The unstoppable champions ...

... The hungry challengers ...

... Will justice and rule prevail? ...

... Or does superiority win out in the end? ...

... Will one team's dissention lead to their ultimate downfall? ...

... Will one team's unity lead them to the promise land? ...

... Two teams collide ...

... But one group collapses ...

March 17, 2003

“I wanna see the sun… blotted out from the sky…. I wanna see ya paint it, paint it paint it, paint it black…”

As the classic rock song by the Rolling Stones begins to fade out, we are treated to cheers from the hot Newcastle crowd packed into the Telewest center for the first SWF International PPV, From the Fire! At the announcers table, Mark Stevens begins his pre-match rundown.

“Well, this match right here HAS to be one of the most anticipated matches on the card, Flesher and Frost sparring off against Justice and Rule, two of their own stablemates. Any thoughts of a friendly match are gone after Storm, where members of the individual teams faced off-”

“And Justice and Rule got their ass kicked BIG TIME,” Interrupts Bobbie Riley, “Just like they should have. That dirty rat Hearford showed his true colors against the upstanding Tom Flesher and STILL didn’t win, and Ejiro Fasaki got his ass kicked by Frost.”

“Well, Bobbie, while both of them failed in the singles division, it has to be noted that Justice and Rule have been a fantastic team together, and theirs might be a case of ‘the whole being greater than the sum of its parts’.” Mark notes, and Riley angrily crosses his arms.

“More like the Assholes, Stevens.”

As Riley fires off his snide little remark the endlessly trendy and stylish Funyon steps into his ring with a microphone in hand. His booming voice projects across the noisy crowd, quieting them a little.

“The following match is ONE FALL for the SWF TAG… TEAM… TIIIIIIIIIIITLLLLLLLLLLES!!! First, the challengers…”

The opening guitar chords to “Sleep Now In The Fire” begin strumming out, and one the SmarkTron flashes the red word “JUSTICE” on a black background, then quickly changes to “RULE”. The huge screen suddenly begins displaying shots of the tag team duo nailing moves, cheating together, and basically being assholes in general, all in little 3 second clips. The crowd boos like mad, and as the scream comes over the speakers…

POPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOP

Rapid fire bursts of red pyros shoot from the stage as the pair walk out, looking dead serious as they walk down the ramp, wearing their traditional Football Jersey’s with “Justice” and “Rule” emblazoned on the back. As the music nearly cuts out for Zach De La Roche’s soliloquy, Funyon takes the chance to speak up.

“Making their way to the ring … weighing at a combined weight of 430 pounds… the greatest tag team since Chilly Chilly Bang Bang, and the NEXT… Tag… Team… CHAMPPPPPIONS… JUSTICE…. AND… RULLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLE!!”

“This certainly is new.” Notes Grand Slam on the new entrance of Justice And Rule, “This may be the first signs of a crack in the unity of the Magnificent 7. Right now the whole stable seems to be teetering on the brink of destruction.”

“Who needs ass clowns like these when you have someone like Tom leading you? Good riddance to bad tag teams.”

The two get into the ring and go to their corner, where they do their traditional planning session just before the match. Meanwhile, Funyon moves on to their opponents as the arena turns a stately blue.

“And the champions…”

“HERE WE ARE! BORN TO KINGS! WE’RE THE PRINCES OF THE UNIVERSE!”

The SmarkTron goes white as it flashes in blue letters “MAGNIFICENT 7”, “TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS!”, and “UNRIVALED TEAMWORK!”. Suddenly, the harsh guitar come in, thrusting the arena into a harsh redish hue. The SmarkTron changes to quick 2 second clips of Flesher and Frost nailing people with their signature moves and their finishers while the pair step out onto the stage together.

“Now making their way to the ring… weighing in at a combined weight of 509 pounds… the team that DEFINES tag team wrestling, the current UNDEFEATED TAG… TEAM… CHAMMMMMPIONS… TOM “SUPPPPPPERIOR ONE” FLESHER and FROOOOOOOST!!”

The crowd instead of acting like the anti-Christs had just arrived, they actually CHEER for the pair. Both of them raise an eyebrow in acknowledgement to the odd circumstances, but that’s about it as they walk down the ramp and reach the ring. Flesher looks well, as does Frost surprisingly enough; his rest backstage between his match with Neilson and this one looks to have rejuvenated him well enough. With a confident stride the two walk down to the ring, where they hand off their belts to some nearby ring attendants.

“Well, it looks like the crowd actually WANTS Tom and Frost to beat the hell out of the two guys in the ring.” Says Grand Slam while the two devious double dealers end their corner conference and begin looking at the tag team champions rising up to the apron…

“Finally! These fans have forsaken the talents of these two and now they-”

“Are getting ambushed by Justice and Rule!”

Indeed, the dirty duo gets a head start on the action, charging across the ring and shoulderblocking the monster Frost clear off the Apron! The Icelandic Iceman goes down to the floor below, and the pair quickly turns their attention to Tom, pulling him into the ring and stomping him down viciously on his bad back.

“GAH! I me- Jus-AHHH!!!!” Riley stutters out, nearly spastic as Flesher is stomped down in front of him by his ‘loyal’ stablemates.

*DING DING DING*

The ref quickly signals for the bell, and in fear of a DQ, the two immediately stop the stomping. The Judge motions for Ejiro to go to the outside as he pulls up a somewhat battered Tom from the mat.

“Justice and Rule stop their assault at the bell so not as to DQ themselves. It looks like their prepared to stretch the rules just enough to get the belt and not get caught.”

“Screw that!” Says Riley as the Judge takes Tom up to his feet, “The only stretching of the rules is the Superior Stretch on Rule himself, Ejiro Fasaki.”

The Judge locks up with Tom quickly, trying to take advantage of his weakened state, but fighting Tom Flesher at a PPV is something totally different than fighting him during the week. Staving off the aching pain in his back, the amateur wrestler doesn’t let Hearford power him around. He throws Hearford’s left arm to the side and slips around back but fails to get a waist lock as the Judge grabs one of his arms and pulls him down to the ground in front of him with a quick Judo throw. He hits the mat hard but undaunted, he rolls back up onto all fours and attacks the old man’s legs. Hearford tries to react quickly, but Tom’s mat speed is great as he grabs one of the Judge’s ankles. Tom tries to go for the traditional low single takedown, but Hearford moves his leg back and instead sweeps his arm around and puts on a front facelock on Tom. Tom doesn’t let go of the ankle, but the Judge’s grip is iron around his neck, and he sees an angry Frost getting back up onto the apron, fully ready to clobber Hearford in the back of the head… and with his free hand waves him off.

“Flesher telling Frost not to try and help him here, which is probably a good thing at this point.” Notes Grand Slam, who watches as Tom receives a massive overhand fist to the back but manages to stay on his feet, “Frost interfering would most likely draw away the referee and give Ejiro a free cheap shot on Tom, which would put him in even worse condition than he is now.”

“See, any other tag team player wouldn’t have known to do that.” Proudly remarks Riley, “This just shows you why Flesher has never been defeated in a tag match; He has enough brains for the whole team!”

Still in the facelock, Flesher takes his chance, using his free hand to grab ‘Judge Mental’s’ Football Jersey. He pulls Hearford forward while moving his legs his body for stability and moves his hand grabbing the Judge’s ankle up to the Judge’s thigh. Hearford tries to stop the motion but can’t, and he releases the facelock, allowing Tom to twist and complete the fireman’s carry! But Flesher doesn’t let this go to waste, quickly sliding his legs around and grabbing the gray-haired veteran’s arm trying to get a Triangle Choke on him.

“Flesher is trying to get that deadly Triangle Choke on the Judge early in the match! Even if he doesn’t get a submission from it, the choking effect of it will certainly effect the Judge’s ability to fight.”

Hearford struggles like mad, but Flesher quickly locks his legs around the entrapped arm and his neck, choking the life out of him! Wiggling around, he tries to move his legs about so that he can reach the ropes while Ordonez stays right at his head, continually asking whether he’d like to give up or not. The Judge just answers no as he tries to use what valuable seconds he has left to reach the ropes, but he’s not close enough. Ejiro looks at the situation with a worried face, and when he sees ‘Justice’ might not make it he decides to bend the rules accordingly. He leaps down to the floor and quickly hurries over to the Judge’s foot, just out of range of the ropes. He stretches the ropes, and while CED is concentrating on the near-unconscious Hearford, he grabs his foot and pulls the rope under it. Quickly running back to his corner, he yells at the ref to look at the foot, and indeed, Ordonez sees the Judge stretching the ropes out and forces Tom to break the hold.

“Christ, is Ordonez BLIND?! How couldn’t he have seen that?”

“It’s different when the shoe is on the other foot, isn’t it?”

“Only when the foot is draped over the bottom rope by his fricken partner, Stevens.”

Flesher pulls the almost out Judge and tosses him at the ropes. Tom backs up into the ropes himself, and he raises his foot right up, nailing Hearford right in the chest! He falls like a rock, breathing heavy, and Flesher takes the chance to pin him right then and there.

ONE!!!

“Record time for a pin!” Riley squeals in glee. “Flesher again-

TWO!!

“Raises the bar for us all!”

TNO!

“And it looks like the Judge just raised a shoulder, Bobbie.” Says Grand Slam with a grin.

“Hmph. You can’t expect him to set ALL the records.”

Flesher jerks up Hearford, still catching wind, and Tom looks at him with a dispassionate glare. With a lightning fast motion, he gives the Judge a shotei right to the chest, and he follows up on the stunned veteran with another shotei, and as ‘Judge Mental’ wobbles in front of him, he spins around and delivers a Rolling Shotei right to the chest of the old man! He nearly falls over, but the ropes stop him from falling, and he bounces back at Tom, stumbling to stay up…

*SMACK*

“No one can top the power of Tom Flesher’s bitchslap!” Says Riley as the Judge falls like a Redwood to the mat to a decent cheer.

With the Judge on the mat, Tom goes down again, quickly maneuvering around, scissoring Hearford’s leg. Tom tries to lean over top of Hearford to cinch the chinlock to complete the STF submission, but old man has enough life in him to prevent Tom from getting his hands under his chin. He slaps away at Flesher’s hands as he wiggles closer towards the ropes, and incidentally, his corner as well. He continues to make his way over, but Tom is finally able to get past Hearford’s hands and complete the deadly submission.

“Smart move by Flesher, trying to tire ‘Judge Mental’ out while avoiding any undue stress on his back.”

“This is exactly why Tom is the best in the league today. He’s the full package. What DOESN’T he have?”

“The World Title?”

“Oh screw you.”

The Judge inches closer to his own corner, and Ejiro desperately holds out his hand as Hearford is only just out of reach. Tom pulls back harder, showing the veteran some new pain, and the Judge grunts in discomfort. Again, he reaches out, and Ejiro puts his hand out….

… And just barely grazes the Judge’s! Ordonez signals the tag and Ejiro rushes in, stomping Flesher right off top of his partner.

“That’s crap! He never touched him! Is Ordonez on crack or something?”

Flesher rolls away and to his feet, but he can’t outdo the speed of Fasaki, and ‘Rule’ quickly is on top of him. He gives him a sharp elbow right to the forehead, knocking Flesher backwards. Tom, not too tired yet, tries to respond with a shotei, but Fasaki ducks it easily. Just as Tom’s arm passes over him, Ejiro takes his chance, leaping up for a backbrain kick that hits right on target. Clutching the back of his head, Tom goes right to the mat, and Ejiro, being the prick that he is, decides to rake his fingers across the back of Flesher. The crowd gives him some heat for it while Tom gives an “Ahh!” and holds his scratched back in pain. Ordonez warns him, but Ejiro doesn’t really pay attention as he grabs Tom’s arms and puts him in a Surfboard stretch.

“Ejiro using his speed to get to that bad back of Tom Flesher, and he’s having far more success than the Judge did trying to outmaneuver him.”

“Yeah, that rat Hearford got what was coming to him after his actions on Storm.”

Ejiro puts his knee right into Fleshers back, and he pulls on the arms of his ‘leader’ hard, causing Tom to grimace a little. He tries to stand once, but Ejiro further pulls back on the arms, and he goes back into a sitting position. Ejiro gives a cruel smile and yells a few insults at the crowd while Flesher pulls his foot under his body, and gets up onto a knee. The latter part of ‘Justice and Rule’ tries to keep control, still putting the knee into the small of Tom’s back, but Flesher continues to rise to a few more cheers. On his feet, Tom tries to turn around, and the two do a complete turn around before they end up where they started again with Ejiro in control. He goes for it again, and while in mid twist he breaks Fasaki’s grip, and tries to into a quick lockup with him… but the former Ejiropean Champion sidesteps, draping his arm right across Flesher’s chest….

KICK

WHAM!!!

“Flesher gets out of the Surfboard, but he is just STOed right back to the mat!” says Grand Slam as Ejiro quickly hooks a leg.

ONE!

TWO!

TNO!

Flesher kicks out, though his back is aching like no-tomorrow after taking the brunt of the legsweep. Ejiro gets back up to his feet, pulling Tom up with him. He gets up and knees Tom in the gut, allowing him to put on a Front facelock. He drapes Tom’s arm over his neck and goes for the Snap Suplex, but Flesher hooks his leg around Ejiro leg, stopping him from going anywhere. Fasaki pulls his leg back, but Tom uses his strength to break the front facelock and put himself in a lockup with his ‘stablemate’. The amateur wrestler maneuvers himself around, putting an underhook on one of Ejiro arms and quickly overhooking the other. Ejiro doesn’t have time to react as Tom pulls him down to the side in an odd-looking Belly to Belly takedown. He doesn’t hold onto the pin, though, and instead uses the takedown as a chance to get a breather as he quickly scrambles towards his corner and tags in the monster known as Frost.

“Oh boy, here comes the winter of Ejiro’s discontent!” Shouts Riley as Frost runs over to a scrambling Fasaki. He grabs him by the arm as Fasaki tries to make it outside of the ring and pulls him up right into a STIFF~! lariat! Ejiro slams right back to the ground with a thud, and the crowd is just eating it up! He pulls up the reeling Fasaki like he were a rag doll, and literally tosses the man right into the open corner near Tom. He slams a fist right into the jaw of Fasaki, and the little man flies up, almost over the top of the turnbuckle, before Frost puts him down with a hard punch to the stomach.

“Frost’s former boxing background really shows through in his strikes here.” Notes Stevens as the Velvet Hammer shows the challenger just WHY he got that name. “He’s putting tons of power behind those punches, and you have to wonder how Fasaki is going to survive this.”

Frost, quite content with his pummeling of Fasaki, pushes him out of the corner, and Ejiro stumbles out to mid ring, definitely not ready to fight but not about to fall to the mat yet. Frost raises an eyebrow at the young man’s ability to take a beating, but begins to go right back on the attack. Meanwhile, the Judge, now in far better condition than he was a few moments ago, begins calling out towards the slightly bruised Ejiro, who begins to slowly lurch towards his corner before Frost comes up from behind and PLANTS him into the ground with an Inverted DDT. He

“A slight variation on his normal combo, but Frost is just dominating against the smaller Ejiro Fasaki right now.” Says Mark as Frost hooks Ejiro’s leg for a pin.

ONE!

TWO!

TNO! Ejiro gets his shoulder up long before the 3, showing how much of a glutton for pain he can be. Frost isn’t all too surprised at this, though, especially after the last match he had with the young wrestler. He pulls him back up to his feet and whips him over towards the ropes near the heel corner, and he goes off in the other direction to build up some speed. Hearford sees his chance and as Ejiro bounces off, he slaps him on the back for a blind tag! Ejiro keeps on going, though, and when he and Frost meet…

WHAM

Ejiro does a full flip and lands on his belly as Frost levels him with Hell Freezes Over, and the crowd pops big for the amazing show of strength. Ejiro crawls out onto the apron to recover while the Judge rushes in…to a lariat of his own! He falls straight on his back, and stares right up at the ceiling wondering what Freight Train just hit him. Frost pulls him back up as Ejiro makes it to the outside, and quickly fires off two of his trademark hard punches to the Judge’s head before pushing him back against the ropes and whipping him at the other end. The Judge travels quickly, and as he hits Frost the Giant picks him right off the ground and slams him back to the mat with a huge spinebuster!

“Frost is just destroying Justice and Rule single-handedly right now!”

“Yeah, isn’t it great?”

The Iceman from Iceland takes up the Judge from the mat, and he looks over to Flesher, who is now calling for a tag. He looks at him for a moment, not totally trusting him, but he finally drags ‘Judge Mental’ over and gives a firm, confident tag to Flesher, and both nod at each other in agreement. With that, Flesher quickly goes through the middle rope and begins working on the Judge himself. He gets right into a collar and elbow tie up with the Judge, and he quickly sweeps his arm around to get a front headlock on Hearford. He pulls the Judge down to the mat with the hold, and quickly twists it hard, causing a grunt of pain from the old man. Hearford starts to rise to his feet, and instead of the elbowing Tom in the gut he begins to back up to the ropes. His partner notices this, and he quickly goes to his knee pad, extracting a length of chain from it.

“And there’s the chain!”

“Damn it, he always has that thing on him! What does he think he is, some Road Warrior extra or something?!”

He quickly wraps it around his fist and hides it behind his back, watching as his partner backs up against the ropes. With one big heave, the Judge pushes Tom’s arms off his head and propels Flesher towards the ropes near the waiting Ejiro. Tom turns to hit the ropes back first… and ‘Rule nails him in the back with his chained fist! Tom takes a few steps falls to his knees, his back arched in utter agony as the fans go into an uproar!

“Ejiro nailed Tom right in the back with that chain around his fist, and it looks like he timed it just right because Ordonez looks clueless to what just happened!” Says Stevens as CED comes over to check if Tom pulled something in his back.

“GAH! WHAT THE HELL!? HE’S NOT ALLOWED TO DO THAT TO TOM! MAYBE TO FROST, BUT NOT TOM!!”

Turning his back to the ring, Ejiro laughs a twisted little laugh and tosses his chain into the corner to discard the evidence. William Hearford kneels down and picks it up, carefully tucking it away into his boot in case of an emergency. But there is someone who right now, does not need any more information before rendering a verdict. And that is none other than the Right Honorable Judge Frost… well, maybe Head Executioner Frost would be a bit more appropriate. Rushing right past the referee like an animal released by his trainer, Frost charges up to his turning opponent and knocks his ass right off the apron with a straight right hand!

Riley roars into his microphone as Stevens covers his ears, “That’s right Frost! Kill the defiler! KILL HIM!”

Setting out to the floor immediately with the referee right behind trying to restore some order, Frost grabs a hold of the stunned cheater and rocks his head up against the ring post. Ringing the bell of his former ally, Frost decides that perhaps the ring post wasn’t enough punishment… but while that develops outside the ring, Tom has finally managed to hobble back up to his feet just as Hearford turns around from picking up the chain. Limping over his opponent, “The Superior One” seeks to enact some revenge of his own, but as he comes into range the Judge immediately catches his leader, jerks him into the air and smashes him down across his knee with a pendulum backbreaker! His spine rearranged once more, Flesher calls out for some sort of aid from his partner, but Frost is currently… shall we say, engaged elsewhere.

“Damn it Frost! Stop fooling around with that little bastard! There’s a medium-sized bastard attacking Tom! Priorities, man, priorities!” calls out Riley.

Stevens takes to the role of sarcastic smart-ass with a rather surprising amount of glee, “And the memorial ‘Bobby Heenan: It’s Not Fair to Flair Award’ goes to ... Bobby Riley!”

And while Hearford turns Flesher over on to his stomach and locks on a camel clutch, Frost heedlessly continues his assault on the floor. Tossing the timekeeper aside with callous disregard, Frost picks up his chair, but a few steps towards Fasaki clue Frost in that even that isn’t going to be enough to destroy that little crap of a man. Instead, The Velvet Hammer tosses the chair aside and picks up the entire timekeeper’s stand! Yes, that will do nicely. With Fasaki finally back up to his feet, Frost provides him with reason to go right back down. Roaring forward, he slams the entire stand into Ejiro’s face!

BOOOOOM!

“FROST! FROST! FROST! FROST! FROST! FROST!” chants the crowd as shards of wood splinter into the air and Ejiro splatters on the ringside floor.

Amid the debris, it is clear to everyone watching at home that the wound from the table match from last week has opened up again with a vengeance. With a tiny geyser of blood erupting into the air, Ejiro wipes his head and looks in horror at his hand as Frost is finally backed up by the official who admonishes, “Get back to your corner, Frost! Get back to your corner or I’m going to throw you out of here!” loud enough to hear over the cameras taping the action.

“That son of a bitch referee! Tom Flesher is in trouble in the ring right now and he’s worried about a little tiny bit of blood? Who cares!” groans Bobby as Stevens simply smiles in complacent bliss.

Reluctantly leaving a bloody pile of Fasaki laying on the floor, Frost walks back around the ring before climbing back up to his corner and calmly waiting for Tom to get over and make a tag. But it’s just not that simple as the Judge demonstrates when he continues to wrench away on Flesher’s back with the torturous camel clutch. Finally releasing the hold in order to transition to something with a little more punch, Hearford starts to move… but changes his mind, leaping up into the air and crashing down across Tom’s lumbar region with all of his weight! Looking outside of the ring for a moment, the Judge realizes that he’s going to have to take control of the action for a little longer than anticipated. Pulling a weakened Flesher up to his feet for just a moment, the Judge lowers his center of gravity and pulls Flesher up into position for a reverse atomic drop. However, instead of dropping down, Hearford instead takes a few steps forward and crams Tom right into the Justice and Rule turnbuckle with all the momentum he can muster!

“That god damn Judge! I always knew he was shady! I always knew he was just trying to sneak his way to the top,” says Riley, nearly having an aneurysm. “I never trusted that bastard!”

‘Grand Slam’ laughs out loud, “Man, it’s never what you do with Bobby Riley. It’s who you do it to.”

“Oh trust me. From the voice of experience, both of those things matter a whole lot.”

But what Hearford is doing right now is driving shoulder tackles into the stomach of his adversary, and who he’s doing it to is Tom Flesher. Again and again, subjecting Flesher’s back to undue stress, Hearford continues to buy Ejiro recovery time as he stands Tom straight up in the corner. Leaning back on his heels for a moment, the Judge comes slicing back with a crushing knife-edge chop across the pectoral muscles.

CRACK!

WHOO!

CRACK!

WHOO!

Slumping into the corner, the Superior One tries desperately to cover up as much as he can in the corner and protect his chest from getting anymore blood vessels burst from the tremendous strikes. There is, of course, no escape as the Judge hammers him across the back with a forearm that sends him all the way down to his knees as Ejiro finally crawls back up to the apron with blood flowing freely from his forehead.

Stevens makes with the commentary. “Ejiro looks like a cast member of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre! … You know, because of the fight at the wrap party and all.”

Riley just grumbles away as the Judge motions to Fasaki as if to ask about his condition. Ejiro Fasaki simply nods in response and extends his hand over the top rope to receive the tag to give Judge a much-needed breather. Stepping into the ring as Judge slips out, Fasaki cracks Tom across the chest with an elbow that sends the Superior One flying to the mat once more. He then shoves Flesher to the ropes and golf-claps for himself, mocking Flesher’s signature self-promotion. Holding Tom against the ropes, Ejiro presses down on his throat in order to choke the life out of his own leader. Satisfied that Tom isn’t going anywhere for at least a few seconds, Ejiro hits the ropes with a full head of steam before crushing down across Flesher with a straddle that only bends his back once more with a painful shock. Grinding down on Flesher’s back with all his weight, Fasaki pulls away at Tom’s face with a childlike glee as the referee struggles to pull him off one half of the tag team champions.

“Come on, Ordonez!” shouts Riley. “How much more are you going to let Ejiro and Judge get away with? I’m starting to think that Justice and Rule don’t care much about the rules at all!”

“No kidding?” asks Stevens, “Well good golly Wally, I’ll be damned.”

“I... I... just never noticed before. It came as quite a shock to me, okay?” Riley’s voice is forlorn and filled with despair. “Hold me.”

Finally releasing Tom from all that gouging, Ejiro heeds the protests of referee Ced Ordonez and hops off Flesher’s back. Paying only token attention to those admonishments, Ejiro saunters right over to the Velvet Hammer. Ejiro stands just out of Frost’s reach, wipes the blood from his face and flicks a splatter full of it right on to the broad chest of the Scandinavian giant. Not willing to stand by for even another moment, Frost immediately steps into the ring in order to throttle the little bastard. Unfortunately, he has to contend with a little zebra colored man that just won’t let him. Stymied by the referee, Frost sneers downward as Ejiro simply laughs in his general direction while the Judge initiates a sidebar of his own.

“What the devil? Hearford is loosening that turnbuckle pad in his corner!”

“That cannot be good! Come on, Frost! Get out the ring! You’re going to cost Tom this match, you big goofy hump!”

With Ced Ordonez still fighting to force Frost back to the apron, Justice and Rule go to work. They leave the turnbuckle hanging down a bit and a glint of steel peeking out through the cover. Judge and Ejiro both grab a leg and toss Flesher high into the air, letting him land right on the metal hook with his face! Collapsing to the mat in a heap, Tom looks completely out of it as Hearford steps to the apron once again. Finally, the referee turns his attention back to the action in the Justice and Rule corner. Making sure he has Ced’s full attention, Ejiro makes the tag in plain view, having enjoyed his bit of time in the ring but exhausted for the moment. Stepping through the ropes, Hearford immediately drops his 242 pounds down onto Flesher’s carcass and hooks the legs tightly as the referee counts away.

ONE!

TWO!

THRNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

“Tom kicked out! I knew he would! I knew it! You bastards can’t keep him down! Only I will be able to... uh.”

Stevens looks at Riley with wide eyes, “... I ... think you’ve said too much.”

“I think I’ve said too much.”

“Yes. Yes, you have.”

With Ejiro subtly pulling the turnbuckle pad back into position, Judge William Hearford drags Tom Flesher into a standing facelock before hauling him up high into position for a vertical suplex. Holding Tom upside down, high in the air, “Judge Mental” walks about the ring looking for the perfect spot to place the Superior One. After five or seven seconds, the Judge finally finds his equivalent of that little wooden thing that they hit with the gavel that and slams Flesher into the mat with authority. Screaming out in pain, Flesher sits up immediately and reaches out for Frost from almost half way across the ring. Almost breaking into a smile over that, Hearford nonetheless continues with his attack by pulling Flesher’s legs up and off the mat in preparation for the Boston crab. Pulling on the legs, the Judge attempts to turn Tom over, but Flesher fights off the attempt with all he’s got. Twisting in Hearford’s grip, Flesher finally manages to kick Judge away and escape danger for a moment.

“YES!” Riley nearly explodes. “GOOD COUNTER TOM! Now tag out! Tag out!”

But the Judge is not about to let that happen just because of one counter, and he drags Flesher back away from Frost’s corner. Pulling Flesher up to his feet again, Hearford sends him across the ring with an Irish whip and immediately follows him in with a charge… but Flesher still has enough left in him to raise a boot into the kisser of the charging jurist! Stumbling backward a step or three, William jiggles his head to try and shake the cobwebs, but Flesher decides to jam some more into the aged warrior’s attic. Stepping forward, Tom whips his foot forward once again with a Yakuza kick that nearly takes the Judge’s head off! Needless to say, Hearford gets knocked almost through the canvas and into his chambers.

“Come on, now! Tag! Tag! Tag! Tag!” screams Riley in rapid fire, shouting with a madman’s intensity as the crowd roars at the prospect of Frost coming out of that corner and kicking some ass.

And Tom is perfectly willing to grant that wish. He crawls ever closer to Frost and the safety of the ring apron. Getting warm… warmer… warmer… hot…….. ice cold. Only inches away from pushing himself up for the tag, Tom is pulled away by the Judge, who latches onto his ankle and callously tows him back to the center of the ring. Stretching out as far as he can from the mat, Judge finally manages to reach Ejiro and tag him back into the contest. However, instead of coming right after Flesher, Ejiro instead heads right towards the ropes before springing backward and crushing Tom under the weight of a lionsault across the back! Arching up in pain as his back spasms unyieldingly, Flesher shouts out in agony for Frost as Ejiro turns him over for a cover.

ONE!

TWO!

THRENNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

“Flesher kicks out again,” admits Stevens. “Even I have to admit that the Superior One is showing a boatload of guts for sticking in this contest right now.”

“Oh, like he cares what you will and won’t admit!” grouses Riley. “What I’m going to admit is Frost is a scared little punk who won’t get in there and save his partner! What a freaking girl! Get in there, you… you pussy!”

“... I am shocked and appalled.”

Slamming his hand against the canvas in a fit of rage, Ejiro points right at the official and demands a faster cadence to the pin counts. With the wound on his head finally clotted for the moment, Ejiro whips his head back toward Tom and pulls him to his feet. Dipping his hips low, Fasaki turns Flesher over before sending him into the canvas with a huge body slam. He flexes his arms into a double biceps pose, and then takes a moment to mock Frost on the apron before returning to his corner and making a tag once more to ‘Judge Mental.’ Together, the team of Justice and Rule send Tom into the ropes before elevating him high, almost into the stratosphere, with a huge double back body drop.

“Wow! Flesher got some real air there, Bobby.”

“Yeah, yeah, ha, ha, He’s Michael Jordan’s worst nightmare,” says Riley, trying to ignore the obvious. “Just shut up, Stevens!”

Quickly trying to get this affair over with, the Judge hooks Tom’s legs tightly as the referee counts away...

ONE!

TWO!

THRENNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Not quite as emotional as his partner, Hearford immediately goes back to his methodical work on the Superior One by locking him up in a front facelock and slamming down on his back with series of hard forearms. Continuing with the theme of spinal assault, the powerful Judge once again lifts Flesher off the mat and crushes his back with another of his trademark pendulum backbreakers.

“Smart wrestling there from William Hearford,” says Stevens. “He used that move earlier in this contest, and he just returned to it again with exactly the same degree of effectiveness.”

“Oh yeah,” replies Riley with sarcasm dripping from his words. “He’s a freaking genius. GET UP, TOM! COME ON!”

But Tom really doesn’t feel up to moving that fast at the moment, considering the way that his back is acting up. Thankfully, the Judge is ready and willing to carry the burden, pulling him up if only to send him back to the canvas with a textbook Russian legsweep. With Tom’s attention right back on his spine, Hearford is free to make a clean tag to the other half of Justice and Rule. Taking full advantage of their five-second grace period, they send Tom into the ropes and catch him together on the rebound with a pair of measured elbows to the chest that send him falling back to the mat. The Judge heads to the apron soon after, leaving Ejiro in complete control. Flesher, unhappy at having to deal with a fresh Ejiro Fasaki once again, simply groans out loud. Ejiro, for his part, makes Flesher deal with as much as he possibly can, grabbing Flesher around the head and snapping him into the canvas once again with a suplex. Turning Flesher onto his chest once more, Fasaki pulls his kneepad down to his shin and exposes his knee before dropping it straight down into the spinal cord of his adversary and stablemate. Immediately hopping back to his feet and into the air, Ejiro once again crushes Flesher’s back with another knee before letting a huge smile spread across his lips. Lifting an eyebrow to Hearford, Fasaki lifts Tom back to his feet once more before pulling him over to the challenger’s corner. Slamming Tom into the turnbuckle, Ejiro chokes away on Flesher until the referee finally forces him to break. Backing away from Flesher with a smile on his lips, Fasaki draws Ced Ordonez’s ire, keeping the purple-clad submission specialist occupied as William Hearford once again exposes the steel beneath the turnbuckle.

“Dirty bastards! Dirty, rotten, stinking bastards! I hope they get cancer! A horrible, pervasive, wasting cancer that they go through chemotherapy to get rid of... and then it comes back anyway!”

“I think, maybe, you went a little too far there. We’ll be hearing from the American Cancer Society any day now, and with PFLAG and AARP already boycotting, we can’t afford to let you get us in any more trouble.”

“I still say those AARP jackasses are too sensitive. All I said was that if God intended for us to live to be 80, he would have made it easier for a geezer to get an erec-”

“Stop it! Do you want to get Bob Dole on our case, too?!”

“Bah, they'll probably have forgotten what they're protesting by the time they get here anyway.”

Grabbing Tom from the apron by the hair, Hearford sends him towards the steel once again, but this time Tom gets a foot up to block! Again, the Judge tries to crush Tom into the buckle, only to have Flesher block the attempt with his boot on the ropes. After quickly tossing an elbow into Judge’s chest, Tom somehow reverses the flow and cracks Judge’s own head into the steel! The crowd pops loudly, in spite of themselves. Falling off the apron in a heap, Hearford staggers to the ringside barricade as Ejiro tries to stem the tide. Ejiro runs forward and slams a fist into Tom’s jaw as the Superior One struggles to fight back, but Fasaki strikes first with another hard right hand that backs Flesher into the corner once again! Stepping back once more, Flesher sets his jaw as Ejiro pops him again and again…. but that’s just about enough of that crap. Tom blocks Ejiro’s next punch, then simply slaps the taste out of Fasaki’s mouth and sends the upstart back towards the center of the ring for just a second! Pissed off by the insult, Fasaki rushes forward again… only to get lifted up by the waist and dropped on the steel by one superior athlete!

“YESSS!” Riley explodes in a way that would make Jim Ross blush.

Ejiro staggers out of the turnbuckle for just a moment before taking a header into the canvas and letting the scar tissue on his forehead burst open once again. But that’s not the story here… The story is that Tom Flesher is heading across the ring while neither member of Justice and Rule is in any position to stop him!

“Oh my god! Oh my god! Go Tom! GOOOOO!”

Stepping across the ring. Staggering across the ring. Reaching across the ring. And finally after all this time ... TAGGING! And HERE comes...

“FROST! FROST! FROST! FROST! FROST! FROST!”

Frost charges into the ring as the crowd pops like a cherry on prom night! As the Iceman from Iceland runs across the ring, Tom Flesher collapses to the mat and rolls onto the apron. Ejiro Fasaki, meanwhile, looks up at Frost with an expression that says, “I’m only 28. I don’t need this.”

“And Frost is going wild!”

The Velvet Hammer grabs the repentant Ejiro off the canvas, above his protests, and whips him to the ropes. As Fasaki rebounds, Frost roars out loud and clobbers him with the Hell Freezes Over lariat! Ejiro flies through the air with a twist and lands on his stomach. Frost steps toward him and drops into his back with an elbowdrop, then rolls him to his back for…

for….

uh….

“Where the hell is Ordonez?!” screams Riley. “This is ludicrous!”

“I believe he’s in the corner having a sidebar with the Judge, Bobby,” says Stevens matter-of-factly.

Sure enough, Ced Ordonez is standing in the corner, arguing with “Judge Mental.” As Hearford brazenly distracts the official, Frost lays impatiently on Ejiro and slaps the mat to try to get Ordonez’s attention.

“COME ON!”

Frost looks up and bellows, “I’ve got a pin here!” Despite the Judge’s protests that their discussion isn’t finished, Ordonez turns around, sees Frost covering Fasaki and dives as fast as he possibly can to count the fall. The judge merely sighs and drops down, reaching into his boot. He pulls the Ejiro’s chain out of the boot and tucks it into his hand as Ordonez counts

ONE!

TWO!

THRE- NO!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ejiro gets a shoulder up, and Frost gets to his feet, staring angrily at Ced Ordonez. “I HAD HIM STUCK!” the Iceman from Iceland shouts, loud enough for the cameras and the fans in the first few rows to head. “Flat on his back!” Ordonez tries to beg off, explaining that he couldn’t have seen the fall. Meanwhile, as Tom Flesher slowly gets to his feet on the outside, Ejiro Fasaki pushes himself up to his feet and makes a beeline for his corner! Frost sees it out of the corner of his eye and stops his argument mid-sentence to chase Fasaki down. Ejiro makes it nearly all the way to the corner when Frost catches him from behind and hammers him with a football tackle! Ejiro hits the mat hard, the wind knocked out of his body, and Frost clobbers him in the back with a club-like forearm! Frost grabs Ejiro by the waist and lifts him into the air, looking for a German suplex!

SLAP!!!!

“Blind tag! BLIND TAG!”

“Well, Stevens, it’s not very blind if we saw it.”

Ejiro Fasaki slaps William Hearford’s hand on the way up as Frost throws him overhead with a German suplex! On seeing it, Ordonez slaps his hand together over his head, signaling the legal tag, and when Fasaki lands, Frost holds him in a bridge in pinning position. Ordonez shouts, “NO!” and refuses to count.

“WHY ISN’T HE COUNTING?” shouts Riley, about to have a conniption.

“Fasaki isn’t the legal man! Frost can’t pin him, he can only pin William Hearford!”

Frost finally catches on and shoves Ejiro over, then sits up… just in time for Hearford to kick him stiffly in the jaw! Frost reels backwards as Fasaki rolls out of the ring and moves toward his corner. Hearford, meanwhile, grabs Frost and pulls him to his feet. With a businesslike expression on his face, Hearford stuns Frost with another straight right hand and then whips him into the corner, still concealing Fasaki’s chain in his left fist! Fasaki, still dazed, catches Frost in the corner, and as the Judge once again turns Ced Ordonez’s attention away, Ejiro wraps the tag rope around Frost’s throat and begins to choke him!

“This is fundamentally wrong!” shouts Bobby Riley, his voice hoarse. “How can this continue to go on?! Won’t somebody PLEASE think of the children?!”

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little, Bobby?”

”FROST IS BEING CHOKED WITH A TAG ROPE! This is a matter of world importance, and all you can say is that I’m overreacting? Are you rational? Are you BLIND? What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Frost struggles in the corner, flailing wildly as Ejiro tightens the tag rope around his windpipe. He throws his fist back, hitting nothing. Again, he slams his fist backwards, but misses. Finally, he makes one more desperate strike… and hits Ejiro in the temple! The latter half of Justice and Rule stumbles back, grabbing the ringpost in order to keep his balance. Frost, though, turns around and grabs Ejiro by the hair. As Tom Flesher starts to cheer him on from the corner, Frost tries to pull Ejiro over the top rope and slam him back-first to the mat. Fasaki resists, though, holding on to the top rope, and William Hearford charges over to protect his partner as best he can. Frost hears him coming, though, and turns around. He charges at Hearford with his arm extended, looking to send him all the way to Belfast with a Hell Freezes Over lariat. Hearford ducks, though, and Frost takes a few steps to get over his momentum. When he turns around, Hearford cuts into his chest with a vicious reverse knife-edge chop!

CRACK!!!

WHOO!!!

Frost staggers back, and the Judge takes advantage off his predicament by grabbing him by the wrist and whipping him hard into the Justice and Rule corner. There, Hearford tags Ejiro, and very quickly, the former SJL World Champion enters the ring. Together, they whip Frost to the ropes. As he hits, Tom Flesher leans over and slaps Frost’s shoulder! Ced Ordonez slaps his hands over his head, and as Hearford and Fasaki spin around backwards and nail Frost with a dual Screaming Elbow, Flesher enters the ring!

“Flesher and Fasaki are the legal men!” says Mark Stevens. “Frost just took a vicious double screaming elbow… and Judge is trying desperately to keep his left hand hidden from Ced Ordonez!”

“That lying, cheating son of a bitch!” spits Riley. “He’s going to use that chain on Flesher! I just know it!”

“My, just like a steel trap,” murmurs Stevens.

Instead of Flesher, though, “Judge Mental” and Ejiro Fasaki pick Frost up and quickly whip him into the corner. The Judge charges in at the Iceman from Iceland, nailing him in the stomach with a shoulder charge. Meanwhile, Fasaki turns around, and when he sees Flesher, his eyes grow and the color leaves his face.

Flesher nails him with a palm strike. Fasaki staggers backwards, and Flesher slams him in the jaw with another palm strike. Fasaki tries to step forward and hit Flesher with an elbow, but the Superior One catches him on his way in and throws him overhead with a Railgun suplex! Ejiro hits with a loud THUD, but Flesher lands hard, cries out in pain and grabs his back!

“Flesher nails the Railgun, but it looks like his back’s hurt again,” points out Stevens.

In the corner, Frost is trying to fight off “Judge Mental.” As Ced Ordonez keeps his eyes on the two legal men in the center, Hearford backs away from Frost and pulls the chain out of his left hand! As he begins to wrap the chain around his hand, Flesher looks over and realizes he has to intervene. He slowly pulls himself to his feet, and Frost keeps Hearford at bay with a few strikes and right hands. Hearford fights back and winds up, getting ready to slam the chain into Frost’s face…

when Flesher comes in behind him and clobbers him with a stiff shotei to the back of the head! The crowd pops in spite of themselves for Flesher stopping the Memphis-style cheating, and with Hearford stunned, Flesher takes it upon himself to grab the chain out of his hand.

“No!” says Mark Stevens. “Two wrongs don’t make a right, and Tom Flesher could get his team disqualified if he uses Ejiro’s chain against William Hearford!”

“There’s no way he’ll get DQed, Stevens! Ordonez is checking on Fasaki!”

And with that, Flesher wraps the chain around his hand, and Frost takes hold of Hearford’s arms. Pinning them behind his back, Frost holds the Judge, and Flesher winds up. He swings his fist forward, slamming it… right into Frost’s face!!

“JUDGE DUCKS! JUDGE DUCKS!” shouts Stevens, shocked by Hearford’s awareness. “Flesher just clobbered Frost with Ejiro’s chain!”

Frost falls to the mat holding his jaw, caught completely by surprise, and William Hearford follows from his ducking position into a double-leg takedown. Flesher crashes to the mat, with the chain jingling to the canvas. Ejiro quickly slides over and picks it up while Ced Ordonez drops down and counts

ONE!

TWO!

THR NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! Flesher gets his shoulder up!

“Bah, Hearford wasn’t even legal,” pouts Riley.

Flesher starts to get to his feet, but “Judge Mental” grabs him before he can get away and locks his hands around Flesher’s waist. He throws his hips in and tightens his grip, but Flesher fights against it. Desperately, he turns to the side and tries to snake his arm under Hearford’s to hit a standing switch. As Frost lays on the apron unconscious, Hearford and Flesher fight for positioning. Finally, Flesher proves his superior wrestling ability and hits his standing switch! Before he can lock his hands, though, Hearford reaches up and nails him in the cheek with a back elbow! With Flesher caught off-guard by the strike, Hearford executes a switch of his own, then relocks his hands.

“Well,” says Stevens, “Flesher may have superior wrestling skill, but the Judge just showed him up with a simple back elbow.”

“And he says he’s a judge. Damn it, judges are supposed to be ethical!”

Hearford keeps his lock and arches backwards, slamming Flesher to the mat with a stiff German suplex. Flesher hits the mat hard and arches up, grabbing at his back. Without a second thought, Hearford rolls through and stands up again. Flesher tries weakly to fight the throw, but the fresher Judge simply arches back with a second rolling German suplex and slams Flesher to the mat again. Flesher screams out loud, his back spasming uncontrollably. The Judge lifts him up once more… but this time, instead of arching backwards, he lifts Flesher into the air, walks him to the corner and sets him on the top rope!

“What- what’s he going to do?” asks Stevens.

“No, no, no! Nothing good can come of this!” moans Riley. “This isn’t fair!”

With Flesher seated on the turnbuckle, Hearford climbs up behind him and perches himself behind the Superior One, then locks his hands around his waist. With that, Ejiro Fasaki climbs up the ropes to the side. Balancing precariously on the rope, he grabs Flesher’s head and plants his elbow into Flesher’s chest.

Then, in one fluid motion, the Judge arches back, and Fasaki leaps off the top cable. Hearford throws Flesher to the mat, and as the Superior One lands hard on his back, Ejiro spikes his elbow right into Flesher’s chest! With the Judge hanging upside down contentedly from the spider German suplex, Fasaki drags the barely-conscious Flesher to the center of the ring. Frost, groggy but coming around, sees Fasaki cover Flesher. He starts to crawl to the center.

ONE!

Frost is getting there…

TWO!

Getting warmer….

Not warm enough.

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

DING DING DING!!!!!!!!

“The Judge” William Hearford sits up and carefully untangles himself from the ringpost, doing a quick backward roll to his feet as Ejiro Fasaki leaps to his feet. Flesher, meanwhile, lays spread-eagled in the center of the ring, and Frost slumps to the mat out of frustration and futility as much as out of fatigue. Ced Ordonez, meanwhile, gets the SWF Tag Team Titles from the timekeeper and returns to the center of the ring as Funyon makes his announcement.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he says, “your winners, and NEW SWF TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS, EJIRO FASAKI… “THE JUDGE,” WILLIAM HEARFORD…. They are….

JUSTICE!

AND!

RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUULE!!!!!!!!!!”

The official hands Hearford his belt, and then gives the other to Fasaki. Ejiro, his forehead caked with blood, looks at the belt with wide eyes, and then screams, “YES!!! YES!!!!! WE DID IT!!!!” He literally jumps into the air, staring the whole time at his shiny Tag Team Title belt.

The Judge, for his part, is far more reserved. He wraps the belt backwards around his waist, then spins it around to the front. With a small smile, he looks down at the belt, and when Ordonez hands him the Hardcore strap, he simply slings that over his shoulder.

Frost looks at the mat, depressed and dejected. No matter how his earlier match against Nielsen of the Jungle had worked out, whether he had won or lost, this loss packs the same punch. He’s just lost his half of the SWF Tag Team Titles.

And Flesher, finally, lays on his back, spread-eagled on the mat. He breathes deeply enough that it’s obvious that he’s conscious, but makes an effort to appear otherwise. Flesher, it seems, doesn’t want to be seen right now. His only title is gone. Lost to two SWF newcomers who he’s helped to train. Someone else is fighting for the SWF World Title next.

William Hearford strolls over, hoping for a handshake. Flesher continues to lay motionless on the mat, but now opening his eyes. He looks up at Hearford… and simply rolls away. Frost does the same.

As Justice and Rule stand in the ring celebrating, Tom Flesher and Frost slink to the back. They don’t even acknowledge each other, with Frost staring at the curtain and Flesher shuffling, his gaze numbly focused on his feet.

The consequences of this simple tag team match cannot yet be known… but like a small, localized earthquake, the tremors will be felt for miles in every direction.

March 17, 2003

... A man sure of his destiny ...

... Another intent on maintaining his legacy ...

... Confidence? ...

... Or foolish pride? ...

... One man has been to this dance before ...

... One man embarks on a whole new journey ...

... Obsession? ...

... Or integrity? ...

... Life ? ...

... Or death ... ?

March 17, 2003

-- TALE OF THE TAPE --

Taylor Nicholas Thompson

Hometown: Anaheim, CA

Height: 6' 6"

Weight: 264 lbs.

Career accomplishments:

- Longest reigning SJL Television champion

- Former SWF U.S. Champion

- Former SWF Tag Team Champion

- Winner of 2003 Clusterfuck

- First place at 1998 Annual New Jersey State Wrestling Center Tournament Of Champions

Finishing move: Mushroom Cloud

***

El Luchadore Magnifico

Hometown: Mexico City, Mexico

Height: 5' 11"

Weight: 193 lbs.

Career accomplishments:

- Five time former, and last ever SWF Light-Heavyweight Champion

- Former SWF Tag Team Champion

- Three Time And Current SWF World Heavyweight Champion

- Most single title reigns ever in SWF history

- Longest World Title Reign To Date

Finishing move: Mexican Pride Press, Baja California Crusher

March 17, 2003

“Paint It Black” by the Rolling Stones plays softly in the background as a video package for our main event is shown.

“10.27.02 – A triple-time champion is crowned…”

**********

Once Magnifico is standing, Sacred positions him in front of the steel chair, before bending over, grabbing Magnifico’s legs, and lifting him into the air for the Black Number One! But as Sacred lifts ELM over his head, the luchadore suddenly lunges forward and grabs the back of Sacred’s legs! Magnifico then pulls hard on Sacred’s legs, yanking himself out of the Aussie’s grip is he slides down his back! ELM then rolls forward, dragging Sacred down to the mat and pinning him with a Reverse Victory Rollup! A surprised pop rises from the crowd as Sacred kicks and struggles wildly, desperate to escape as the ref slides into position...

ONE...

TWO...

THREEE!! Sacred escape a millisecond too late, kicks his legs out and sending ELM flying backwards to the mat! However, the damage has already been done, as the ref turns towards the timekeeper and signals for the bell to a massive pop from the fans!

DING DING DING

**********

“02.02.03 – A #1 Contender is named…”

**********

Annie’s eyes are glazed, she’s been in there for almost forty minutes, and not an inch of her skin can be seen through the crimson color that coats her body. Only her pearly whites are visible as she bears a smile a mile wide, and she backs up from her opponent… only to be scooped up onto Taylor Nicholas Thompson’s shoulders in an inverted fireman’s carry!!

“It’s TNT! He’s recovered from the brainbuster suplex, and he completely caught Annie off guard!!”

“Yes! Yes! Yessssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss! Our God is an Awesome God!”

“But I can’t quite tell what he’s going to do with her… oh no.”

“Oh fuck yes.”

The crowd’s cheers have transformed into piercing boos, and Annie tries to wriggle off of TNT’s shoulders as insistently as she can, but it’s no use, as Taylor flashes a malicious grin to the crowd, and then jumps up…

…AND LANDS ON HIS SIDE, DRIVING ANNIE’S HEAD INTO THE MAT WITH A VICIOUS, SICKENING, UTTERLY BRUTAL JUMPING SHEER-DROP BURNING HAMMER!!

“The Detonation Drop!! The Detonation Drop!! TNT has only used that move once before, and I think Annie is DEAD!!”

“Ouch, mwahahaha.”

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

The crowd is furious, but Taylor ignores them. He turns Annie onto her back, and lifts her arm up, before dropping it. Nothing. With Danny showing no signs of life on the other side of the ring, and Annie’s life meter maybe even in the negative digits, TNT collapses over the Queen of Hardcore, and hooks her leg.

“ONE!!!”

“TWO!!!!!”

“THREEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

*** DING DING DING ***

“TNT” by AC/DC is the sweetest sound ever heard by Taylor Nicholas Thompson, as it blares from the PA System, almost completely drowned out by boos.

“TNT! TNT IS GOING TO FROM THE FIRE!! He’s WON THE #1 Contendership for the SWF WORLD TITLE!! Taylor Nicholas Thompson has won 2003’s Clusterfuck, like Pimp Daddy Sarp and my idiotic colleague ‘Grand Slam’ Mark Stevens before him!!”

*****

“Tonight, at SWF From the Fire, Sunday, March 16th… the champion, and the challenger, will clash… The World Title on the line… pride on the line… everything, on the line…”

A moving image of El Luchadore Magnifico brandishing his SWF World Title Belt in his arms as if it were a newborn baby is shown, and next to him, a similar moving illustration of Taylor Nicholas Thompson cracking his knuckles is shown.

“…TNT…”

“…ELM…”

“…the SWF World Title…”

“…two consecutive falls…”

“…TONIGHT…”

“AT FROM THE FIRE.”

*** BOOMBOOMBOOMBAMBOOMKABLAMO ***

Some fireworks flare up from the arena stage, and the carnage from the previous match has been cleared out of the ring. Funyon stands in the center of the squared circle, mic in hand, as the crowd sits in utter silence… as for Bobby… not so much.

“And now it’s time to kill us some Mexicans!” Riley is giddy with excitement.

“Well, that’s one way to put it… but nonetheless, the entire night’s events have just been foreplay, as now it’s time for the final match of the night. A match for the SWF Title… the Main Event… Taylor Nicholas Thompson versus El Luchadore Magnifico, in a two consecutive falls match!”

“Wazoo! Things are already heating up and the wrestlers haven’t even been introduced yet, though maybe the heat is because Tom Flesher was just out here, eh?”

“Maybe for you Riley, but this match is indeed guaranteed to be one for the ages, and what a gimmick to go with the biggest match of the night!! We’ve seen the first ever Iron Australian Knockout Challenge, the return of a legend, a steel cage match with a career on the line, an ironman match, a tag team match with the titles being defended… but none of those matches can compare to this, as Taylor Thompson raised the intensity just one extra notch about a month ago, by adding the gimmick to this match… here, let’s just take you back in time, to SWF Storm on Friday, February 7th, 2003.”

**********

Ringside attendant Ted Pollak pitches a microphone into the ring, and TNT catches it with his right hand, signals for his music to be cut, and then speaks: “Hehehehehehe… Hah. Nineteen other men. Actually, it was a women that I beat in the end… but nonetheless, nineteen other wrestlers. NINETEEN. And not ONE could take me out. Not ONE. Now… what does this say…?” Taylor questions the crowd only to receive a bombardment of jeers for his answer. “Does it say… that I’m the best?” Cue the boos. “Does it say… that this revamped Taylor Nicholas Thompson is the full package of the SWF?” Cue more boos. “Does it mean that not ONE man can match the skills of TNT??” Cue enough boos to blow the roof off. “Or maybe… maybe it just means ‘All of the Above,’ eh?” Thompson chuckles to himself lightly, before continuing. “Now, I didn’t come out here to wrestle. The bookers in the back wouldn’t LET you watch me explode tonight, despite my very stable health and willingness to compete. I suppose they wanted a face to win the Main Event.”

“And to say that this guy was running into walls just a few months ago… he seems so, collected now,” Stevens comments.

“And yet with the same amount of awesomeness. How does he do it??” Bobby is perplexed, yet in awe all the same.

“Now…” TNT continues. “I have a lot on my mind right now. Frosty… The Magnificent Seven… Tom Flesher… but right now, I’m out here for one reason. Everything else can wait until later. Because tonight… I am going to name my stipulation for my World Title shot at FROM THE FIRE!!!” The crowd takes a break from their booing duties for a moment to pop big for the not-too-far-off Pay-Per-View!! “Hrm… El Luchadore Magnifico… only a month away… lesse… how many of you would like to see an EXPLODING BOARD MATCH!?!?!?!?!?”

The crowd pops BIG at the foreshadowing of carnage, before being thrown into another frenzy of boos. “Well, too bad. Like I’d actually do anything to please YOU. After all, YOU were the little buggers that mislead me when I first joined the fed… thought that pleasing you meant something. Yeah, right.” More boos, which shouldn’t be surprising. “Anyhoo… er, anyway,” Taylor corrects himself, almost swaying back to an incarnation of his old, flowery self. “I was thinking… and… oh hell, build up is for sissies. I will be facing El Luchadore Magnifico at From the Fire, and I will WIN his SWF World Title, and I will do it… in a two consecutive falls match!!”

“What the hell is that?” Bobby asks.

“Sshhhh.”

The fans are a little unsure as well, but they shrug, and boo anyway. “In this match, he two wrestlers will fight until one of them scores two CONSECUTIVE falls! No disqualification, and no count-out… if a wrestler pins his opponent, but then his opponent pins him, his first fall becomes void! In other wise… I’m not going to beat Magnifico for his World Heavyweight Title… I’m going to beat Magnifico TWICE, IN A ROW, for his World Heavyweight Title!!” >insert more massive boos here<

“Haha!!” Bobby giggles menacingly. “He’s a genius! TWICE Grand Slam! TWICE!!”

“…Interesting… TNT has more of a vitality rate than the Luchadore does… and he paces himself a bit more… he’ll definitely have the advantage.”

“So… come From the Fire, Luchadore… you and I are going to go head to head… the clash of the titans, the battle of the bulge, the… well, you get the point. And when we do… I can GUARENTEE that you won’t come out on top El Luchadore. I can GUARENTEE it. You may have fended Flesher off… twice, even, but even the leader of the Magnificent Seven lacks the determination and intensity that remains within Taylor Nicholas Thompson. Because in the end… you can fend off all comers… Tom Flesher, Jay Dawg, Sacred, even Frost… but you will NOT fend off ME Luchadore… You hear me? You will NOT keep me away from your gold. You CAN’T… and when From the Fire rolls around, you will feel me beating into you like a punching bag, you will see me TAKE your World Title right out from under your nose… and you will watch me… explode…”

The crowd boos furiously still, and “TNT” by AC/DC kicks up, as Taylor retreats to the back with a broad smile on his face.

“You heard it here first! TNT! ELM! From the Fire!! Two Consecutive Falls match!! The death of that illegal immigrant is only a month away!”

**********

The camera pans the hyped up crowd, as various (often grammatically incorrect) signs such as “BASKETBALL ASA 4 TEH HALL OF FAME” and “TNT, Will You Explode On Me??” dot the sea of fans.

“Well, there’s not much more explaining needed that the match itself couldn’t do… so we take you ringside now, to Funyon, who’s ready for the introductions!!” Mark yells, and on cue, the camera settles down onto the ring.

“Ladies and gentlemen and the Suicide King…” Funyon begins. “This match is for the SWF World Title, and is our MAIN EVENT!!!”

Canned cheers are dished out like head at a party at Courtney Love’s house, and Tons o’ Fun continues…

“Also, this is a TWO CONSECUTIVE FALLS MATCH!! The rules of this match are as follows: standard rules apply, but in order to win, one must score two CONSECUTIVE falls. If one man scores a fall, but then is pinned or quits at the hands of his opponent, then his fall score goes back to “0.” The match will continue until one man has racked up two falls in a row, whether it be via pinfall, submission, knockout, count out, or disqualification… and he will then be crowd the SMARKS WRESTLING FEDERATION WORLD CHAMPION!! Now, without further delay… introducing first, the challenger…”

An opening guitar riff sounds, and then…

“Oi.”

“Oi!”

”Oi!”

“Oi!”

“OI!”

The crowd is up on their feet, booing the heel of the match before he’s even sighted on the entrance ramp, as AC/DC’s “TNT” continues to blare deafeningly from the loudspeakers!

“And listen to the negativity here!! Thompson isn’t your stereotyped heel, and he never cheats, but considering who he’s up against, a negative reaction is not surprising at all!” Stevens observes.

“Of course it’s not surprising! We’re in England! The SPICE GIRLS were big here!”

“…Well, that’s a good point…”

“Cuz I’m TNT!”

“I’m dynamite!”

”TNT!”

“And I’ll win the fight!”

“TNT!”

“I’m a power loooad!”

“TNT!”

“WATCH ME EXPLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODE!!!!!!!!”

The late great Bon Scott’s vocals come to a raging climax, and just as the music reaches the pinnacle of excitement…

*** BOOM ***

A burst of red and orange pyrotechnics BLAZE up from the stage to create a makeshift explosion, and the letters “T-N-T” flash across the Smarktron, each character 20 feet tall, as TNT himself finally makes an appearance, striding confidently out from the backstage area!

“Weighing in at a lean, mean, mighty unclean 264 pounds… hailing from the duck-infested depths of Anaheim, California… he is the #1 Contender for the SWF World Title… he is Taylor Nicholas Thompson… He. Is. TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN-TTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

TNT soaks in the crowd reaction as he ambles down the ramp, knowing that after tonight, he’ll have gained the respect that he deserves. The explosive one reaches the ring, slides underneath the bottom rope, and then, moving as quickly as possible, makes a stop at all four turnbuckles, climbing up to the second rope of each and letting out a “KABOOM!!”

“Here he is! The longest reigning SJL Television Champ of all time, part of the original Magnificent Seven, a man who has beaten several legends such as Edwin MacPhisto, Chris Raynor, Magnifico himself, and just about every man on the roster at this year’s Clusterfuck…”

“Also, a former United States Champion, a former Tag Team Champion… damn, TNT is just the total package!” Riley screams with glee. “And though Taylor has recently disappointed me by not cheating his ass off… I’m still 100% sure that he’ll walk out of the arena tonight as the NEW SWF World Champion!”

“Well, it sure would please him…”

“And then he can safely transition the belt over to Tommy. YEY!”

“Ugh… Tom Flesher has failed two times in getting the World Strap off of Magnifico, and I’m sure that he wouldn’t like it too much if the man who he rejected from the Magnificent Seven just a month or two ago did what he failed to do, and captured the World Title.”

“TNT” fades out, and Taylor stands in the ring, testing the ropes and rolling his shoulders back in order to prepare himself for the biggest match of his life.

“And his opponent…”

…

“UNO!!”

*** BOOM ***

“DOS!!”

*** BOOM ***

“TRES!!”

*** BOOM ***

“CUATRO!!”

*** BOOM ***

Orange bursts of pyro shoot up from each turnbuckle, and the crowd pops big, as “Mission Trip to Mexico” by a Bunch of Believers starts up at the chorus of the song, and the familiar figure of El Luchadore Magnifico dashes out onto the stage, Mexican flag in hand!! The jam-packed arena is blowing the roof off of the arena, and ELM waves his flag a few more times at the top of the ramp, before breaking into a sprint and darting down to the ring as quickly as he can!!

“Weighing in at 193 pounds, wrestling out of Mexico City, Mexico… he is YOUR SWF HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION OF THE WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORLD!!! EL LUCHADORE MAG-NI-FI-CI-COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Magnifico slaps as many hands as he can while racing down to the ring, and slides under the bottom rope, running over to the nearest turnbuckle, and hopping up to the second rope!! The crowd starts a thunderous “E! L! M!” chant and the Hispanic light-heavyweight merely smiles, flaunting his Mexican flag in a proud manner, before handing it to a ring attendant, and leaping springing back into the center of the ring, jogging in place all throughout to keep himself in a fervent state of mind.

“Wow, there’s a reason that you can’t swim in or drink the water in Mexico, because BOY does Mags smell. I mean, even from here!” Riley is appalled at the World Champ’s hygiene, and he clenches his nose shut between his two fingers.

“Well, say what you like about ELM…”

“And I most certainly will.”

Stevens glares at Riley harshly, and he shuts up, so that the Heavy Hitter may continue: “Say what you like about ELM, but he’s the longest reigning World Champion that this federation has ever had, and I’m sure that he’d die before he let TNT take his belt from him!”

Magnifico rubs his World Title Belt, which is strapped around his waist, before reluctantly taking it off, and handing it over to Funyon, who then gets the hell out of dodge. ELM leans to his side and stretches out his legs a bit, before standing up and loosening up his shoulder muscles. The Luchadore looks as intent as David Hasslehoff getting in-character before an episode of “Nightrider,” but suddenly, a massive shadow looms over him, and upon looking up, Magnifico realizes that it’s none other than his opponent, who has a seven-inch height advantage on the smaller man!

“Again, as has been said before, TNT is the much larger and yet slower, more pacing man in this match, so he might have the slight advantage, but can ELM overcome the odds of the gimmick and defeat Taylor anyway?” Grand Slam asks.

“Pbbth, of course not!” Bobby interjects. “Taylor is considered by many to be the underdog in this match, but he SHOULDN’T be, and he’s going to prove his dominance tonight…”

Referee Eddie Long explains the rules to both competitors, and at the signal of a nod from both grapplers, he signals for the bell!

*** DING DING DING ***

“And here we go!!” Mark marks, and correct he is…

The referee signals for the two wrestlers to go at it, but neither man moves a muscle, simply exchanging intensified glares. Magnifico whispers something to TNT, and Taylor simply smirks, a confident expression concreted onto his face.

“Ah, see how Taylor ALREADY has his tactics planned out? He’s wearing ELM down already!”

“…They’re staring at eachother, Bobby.”

“Yeah, well, the tortilla midget looks pretty winded to me.”

Both men stand perfectly still, and the crowd bustles with excitement… before El Luchadore makes the first move, reaching one arm up and egging on Taylor, offering a test of strength! TNT has a hard time not bursting into hysterical laughter, and without hesitation, he grabs Magnifico’s hand, and then the other! Magnifico isn’t stupid though, and he knows what his weaknesses are. Instead of actually ensuing in this test of raw power, ELM backs up slightly, still holding Taylor’s hands… and thrusts himself forward with a kick to the gut! Taylor is caught off guard, and he doubles over in pain immediately, allowing ELM to follow up by grabbing a hold of one of TNT’s arms, and flipping him across the mat with an arm drag! TNT spins up to his feet, ready to rumble once more, but ELM doesn’t let up at all, running forward and hitting a HARD superkick to Thompson’s chest that sends him reeling back into the turnbuckle!

“El Luchadore is really taking it to TNT early here, and he could get a quick fall before he even gets worn out if he keeps moving this fast!” Mark observes.

“Hah. C’mon Mark, haven’t you read David and Goliath? TNT has this one in the bag,” Riley prophesizes.

“…But in David and Goli—“

“See! Look here!” Bobby gets Mark refocused on the action inside the ring, where El Luchadore has climbed to the second rope, and is furiously pummeling forearms into TNT’s head!

The crowd is going wild, and when Thompson is sufficiently dazed, ELM gets suckered in by the earsplitting reaction, and he raises his arms up, soaking in the cheers! TNT isn’t quite as stunned as Magnifico might have hoped however, and he snaps back into reality, wrapping his arms around ELM’s waist, and carrying him away from the turnbuckle. Once Thompson has come forward a good yard or two, he tightens his hold on his puny opponent, and slams him down onto his knee with a HARD inverted atomic drop! ELM oversells to the max, rebounding upwards off of Taylor’s knee like a ping pong ball, and bouncing a few feet backwards!

“Watch him EXPLOOOOOOODE ya damn sombrero!” Riley orders.

“The Luchadore seemed to have a bit of an advantage there, using his speed to his advantage… but it didn’t work as well as he had planned evidentially, and Thompson has used his size to gain the upper hand!” Mark seems almost worried at the direction that this is going.

Magnifico is down, but not anywhere near giving up yet, and he kips up to his feet, only to be met by a MASSIVE lariat that nearly takes his head off!

“LARIATOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!” Mark wails, reading from his English-to-Japanese dictionary on the fly.

“ELM IS DEAD!!”

Magnifico slams down back first to the mat, and the momentum of the decimating move causes him to flip backwards onto his belly. Taylor stands ELM up as quickly as he can, and whips him into the ropes by the wrist. The Luchadore rebounds off of the multicolored bands, and comes back towards his eagerly awaiting opponent. Thompson surges with vigor, and he sprints forward to meet ELM with yet another lariat, but this time Magnifico is prepared, and he ducks the maneuver, skids to a stop, and snaps back at TNT with a superkick… no! Taylor catches Magnifico’s foot in mid-kick, not to be hit with the same move twice… and… well, his plans don’t quite hatch into actions, as ELM throws his other foot over, and NAILS TNT right in the side of the head with a VICIOUS enzuigiri! Thompson’s eyes suddenly glaze over and he drops to his knees, as Magnifico lands on his belly, and then scuttles up to his feet.

“ENZUIGIRI!” Bobby screams in a tone of voice that would somewhat resemble Debbie Gibson having an orgasm. “Come on TNT! Do you not know the meaning of the word ‘duck!?”

“He didn’t even see it coming Bobby! The Luchadore is just too fast!”

“Well, slow and steady always wins out over quick and hasty… in sex, at least…”

“But TNT is still on his knees…”

Taylor clears the cobwebs from his head, and he regains a state of mind that involves knowing what the hell is going on, just as ELM’s leg swings at him from the side once again, and nearly gives him a concussion as is smacks into the side of his head! Taylor drops forward onto his stomach now, and ELM runs to the nearby ropes, leaps up to the top one and springboards off, backwards! Magnifico completes a full back flip in mid-air, and lands chest-first onto Taylor’s back, completing his springboard moonsault!

“ELM has unleashed a series of speedy yet efficiently devastating moves on TNT, and he could very well get an early fall!” Grand Slam screams in excitement.

“Hopefully it’s a fall from a fifty-story building…” Riley mutters.

Magnifico gets to his feet, and lifts TNT’s arm up from the mat. He raises three fingers hurriedly into the air, and then quickly rolls Thompson up with the La Magistrial cradle!! Eddie Long dives in for the count!

“ONE!!”

“TWO…NO!!”

“Taylor’s not going to be put away that easily,” Mark is impressed. “In fact, he seems to be pretty lively considering someone who just took some kicks to the head and a moonsault.”

Taylor kicks out with gusto, and ELM sits up, slightly disappointed at not getting the fall. Behind him, the dynamite warrior collects himself, and starts to regain a vertical base, but the Luchadore pops up to his feet just as TNT reaches his, and leaps off of the mat, hitting a perfectly executed missile dropkick into Taylor’s back! The challenger staggers forward into the ropes, but doesn’t go over the top, instead acquiring a sense of balance, and turning around to meet the rising light-heavyweight eye-to-eye! Magnifico grabs onto TNT’s wrist before he can make his move, and tries to complete an Irish-whip into the opposite set of ropes as hard as he can! Unfortunately, Taylor has other plans, and he reverses the whip, sending ELM into the ropes instead! The smaller man hits the cables hard, and reverberates back towards the highly explosive behemoth at full speed, before being caught and slammed down to the mat HARD with a spinebuster!!

“DID YOU SEE THAT IMPACT!?!?!?!?” Stevens says, completely in awe.

“…Well, yeah, we’re watching the same monitor, ya dumbass.”

TNT starts to hook ELM’s leg, but instead opts to get back up to his feet, and grab a hold of ELM’s foot! Taylor seems to have an idea… and with a glint of sadism in his eye, he starts stomping a mud hole into Magnifico’s thigh!! The World Champion flails about, screaming out in anguish, but TNT keeps ELM within his grasp, and continues to thunder down onto his leg with boot after boot!

“Taylor’s getting rather aggressive here…” Mark says, watching on as ELM’s leg is stomped into the ground. “And he seems to be frustrated with Magnifico’s speed.”

“And what better way to catch the Road Runner than to chop off its legs?” questions Bobby.

“Um, well, that’s one way of putting it… either way, Thompson went through an unreal amount of exercises to prepare for this match, one of them watching some old matches of the champ himself… so I’d think it’s a safe bet to assume that he knows what he’s doing here.”

Taylor stops to rest for a second or two, and then lifts ELM’s leg up, and steps over it, going for the figure-four lock! But wait! The Luchadore comes back to life just as Thompson is applying the hold, and he kicks TNT right in the behind just in time to stop the big man from putting on a submission! Taylor goes toppling forward and rams into the ring post chest-first, and as he staggers back from the impact, ELM catches him back-to-back, and pins him down to the mat with a backslide!! The zebra dives into action!!

“ONE!!”

Taylor’s legs thrash all over the place as he desperately tries to escape the quick pin.

“TWO!!”

NO!! TNT kicks out at the last second, again escaping the consequences of an early fall. Both men waste no time in getting to their feet, and right when they do, ELM leaps off of the ground and hits a jumping kick sidekick to TNT’s forehead!! The crowd pops big at the stiffness in which the bridge of Mags’ foot hits Thompson’s face, and the giant goes down like a sack of wet mice, but so does ELM, who clutches at his leg in agony, having hurt it while performing his agile yet deadly maneuver!

“Magnifico pulled off a stiff, stiff, STIFF kick to TNT’s face there, but his leg seems to still be aching from the punishment that it just took a moment ago, and one would be surprised just how hard it is to put up a good fight when one of your limbs isn’t working,” Mark speculates.

“And TNT hasn’t even STARTED yet! He’s just toying with ELM!”

The audience can tell that Riley’s statements are true by the way Taylor lies lifelessly on the mat like a big quivering heap of Jell-O.

“I dunno Bobby,” Mark comments. “Taylor’s skull has been the fodder of a many kicks tonight, and I’m not sure if his brain is working at its regular speed right now.”

Both men lie on the mat motionless as the crowd stomp their feet repeatedly into the ground to create some tension. Magnifico is the first to get up, climbing the ropes up to his feet as if they were the rungs of a ladder. The 5’11” Mexican shakes the pain out of his hurt leg, and once he’s recovered, he paces over to his opponent, grabs a handful of his dark brown dreadlocks, and lifts him up to his feet. He grabs TNT from behind in a rear waistlock, and instantly tries for a German Suplex, but the colossal Bang Bang of Chilly Chilly Bang Bang will have none of that, and he propels one or two elbows back into ELM’s cranium, before swinging around him and going for a rear waistlock of his own!! Magnifico is simply quick as a cat though, and he takes the already existing impetus and uses it to reverse the move AGAIN by swinging around and latching his arms around Taylor’s thick midsection!! The smaller man lifts as forcefully as he can, trying to get TNT off of the mat, but Thompson won’t budge, and he leans over, reaches through his legs, and grabs onto the Luchadore’s leg, before yanking it out from under him and tripping him to the mat in the process! Taylor grips ELM’s leg in his hand, and tries to wrap it around his in a figure-four lock attempt, but before he can even come close to fastening on the submission hold, Magnifico panics, and scuttles out of TNT’s grip as hurriedly as he can! The smaller man crawls backwards until he reaches the ropes, and he grips onto the middle band as if it were his security blanket.

“Hah! What a fucking sissy!” Riley is probably just joshing, but unkind comments still hurt. “That’s all that the Mexicans can do: run! All started with that fucking Gonzales mouse.”

“I don’t think it’s the fact that he’d quit Bobby… ELM’s World Title is on the line here,” Mark contemplates just what the World Champ is thinking right now. “But, if he lets himself get put in a submission move, even something as simple as a figure-four, the consequences could come back to haunt him later on in the match.”

Taylor turns around to face Magnifico, and strides over to him rather briskly, grabbing onto one of his boots with both of his hands, and attempting to tug him away from the ropes, which he frantically clings onto. Thompson sighs, and settles with another tactic, as he reaches over, grabs a handful of ELM’s streaming black hair, and yanks him violently up to his feet! Taylor pries ELM away from the ropes, and positions himself behind the smaller man, pulling up his knee, and lifting him up into a backdrop driver position… going for a shinbreaker!! The Luchadore is still ticking though, and he flips all the way over TNT and out of his grasp! Magnifico rushes back into the ropes, and Taylor turns around, only to be met with a kick to the gut!! TNT doubles over in pain, and ELM uses this small opening as efficiently as he can, hopping over Taylor and rolling him up with a sunset flip!! The zebra dives in…

“ONE!!”

“TWO…”

NO!! Thompson kicks out at the very last second!

“What’s with ELM and all these friggin’ rollups? Doesn’t he know that, I dunno, maybe an actual MOVE would work better?”

“Well, Magnifico has made three quick pin attempts so far in this matchup,” Mark replies. “And I think that he’s slowly realizing that nothing less than a finisher is going to put Taylor down, especially for the first fall here.”

Taylor rolls out of the pinning attempt, and hops up to his feet, but Magnifico is there to meet him, sufficiently bruising up his jaw with a set of European Uppercuts! Taylor is staggered back into the ropes, and Magnifico grabs a hold of his wrist, before throwing the colossal grappler across the ring with an Irish-whip!! Taylor hits the ropes and comes reeling back, and Magnifico is ready… Just as TNT approaches Mags, the agile Mexican bounds up from the mat, lands on Taylor’s shoulders, and then leans backwards with all of his might… successfully taking Thompson down to the mat with a hurricanrana!! TNT hits the mat head-first, and the rest of his body follows, but Magnifico crawls over to him as quickly as he can, hooking the leg…

“ONE!!”

“TWO!!”

Not quite!! Taylor’s shoulder shoots up from the mat, narrowly escaping a fall! Magnifico gets up to his feet, and backs up away from his opponent. Just as TNT gets up to his feet however, ELM comes lurching towards him at unbelievable speeds, and sends the dynamite warrior over the top rope with a flying forearm!! Taylor flips over the top and lands on the outside with a “thud”!

“Flying forearm by Magnifico… and Taylor goes out!!” Grand Slam yells enthusiastically. “Can Magnifico follow up??”

“Oh what a cheap shot!! Taylor CLEARLY yelled ‘Time out’ so that he could adjust his tights, and ELM just lambasted him!! What a dirty little Mexican!” Bobby claims.

Taylor is bewildered, but he quickly reacquires a standing posture. In spite of TNT’s quick recovery, ELM isn’t going to let his opponent rest for even a moment h, and he sprints to the back ropes, and then races to Taylor’s side of the ring… lunging up to the top rope, and springboarding off…

“MAGNIFICO GETTING SOME MAJOR AIR!!” Stevens screams in astonishment.

Thompson doesn’t have time to do anything but gape upwards, as Mags spreads his body out in midair, and lands right onto TNT with a springboard flying cross-body to the outside! The crowd pops BIG!!!

“TNT is down, and El Luchadore is already following up!” Mark is caught up in the thrill of the moment.

Indeed, Magnifico has already picked Taylor up once again, and he drags him over to the metallic set of stairs at the corner of the ring. ELM climbs up to the top of the ring steps, and hooks a front facelock onto his volatile opponent. Referee Eddie Long orders Magnifico to get back into the ring, but the longest reigning SWF Champion of all time doesn’t comply. The Luchadore flashes a smile to the crowd, and then… gets flipped right over TNT, who lifts him from the steps and throws him overhead with a Northern Lights Suplex onto the concrete!!

“Ooh! Northern Lights on the outside there, and that is going to HURT in the morning,” Bobby audibly cringes, though seems to enjoy ELM’s pain at the same time.

“That’s a reversal that Frost used on Magnifico in a tag team match just a few weeks ago, and TNT was special guest referee for that very same match!” Mark shows us all that, damn, he’s a fucking SWF dictionary.

“Well, if it worked the first time, then there’s no reason to not do it again, eh?”

Magnifico lands hard on the cement, and TNT lifts him off of the ground, and slides him back into the ring. Thompson follows, and immediately makes the pin, carefully making sure to hook the leg…

“ONE!!”

Magnifico doesn’t move a fraction, and his entire body seems to be as limp as a Raggedy Andy doll.

“TWO!!”

NO!! ELM musters up all of the available energy that he has left, and kicks out with authority! Taylor lets out a curse word or two under his breath, and hops up to his feet, dragging Magnifico up with him by his bright orange tights. Looking to put away ELM for all three counts this time, Taylor clasps both hands around Magnifico’s head, and jams his skull right in between his legs, locking him in a standing head scissors! Thompson looks confident now, and moving at a rapid pace, he hooks ELM’s arms, and tears him off of the mat, going for the Mushroom Cloud!!

“Taylor’s going for his finisher, the double-underhook sit-out powerbomb that he calls the Mushroom Cloud!” Mark Stevens foreshadows.

“El dong de Ding la bruja es muerto!” Bobby slurs in some fairly sloppy Spanish.

Taylor flips Magnifico up onto his shoulders, but the little guy uses the momentum to his advantage, and vaults all the way over TNT’s head, landing on his feet right behind the explosive one!! The crowd goes nuts as Magnifico promptly hooks Taylor’s arms as if to go for a backslide, but instead, he runs forward and climbs right up the ropes… BEFORE FLIPPING BACK OVER TAYLOR NICHOLAS THOMPSON, AND CRATERING HIS FACE INTO THE MAT WITH THE BAJA CALIFORNIA CRUSHER!!!!

“Baja California Crusher and TNT is out like a light!” Mark Stevens nearly jumps out of his seat with excitement.

“Oi veh!” Riley yelps.

“…That’s not Spanish, Bobby.”

“That’s not the point right now Stevens… Magnifico could very well get a 2-count off of that!”

Thompson doesn’t move an inch and Magnifico flips him over onto his back, ready to make the pin… but he hesitates for a moment, and decides against it! The crowd is still hot after the finishing maneuver, and their anticipation for what ELM will do next rises and rises, along with the noise level, as the Luchadore drags TNT’s corpse over to the corner of the ring. Once Taylor is perpendicular to the ring post, Magnifico runs over to the turnbuckle, and in one swift leap, propels himself up to the top rope!! The crowd is louder than ever and they already know what their World Champion has in mind!

“Good think that Taylor’s playing possum…” Bobby sounds rather doubtful.

“ELM is going to get the first fall of the night here, and Thompson is too out of it to even make an attempt at stopping him!”

Mere seconds are ticking away, but it seems like an eternity… and finally, Magnifico turns to salute his Mexican flag at ringside, and then dives off of the turnbuckle! Camera bulbs sizzle brightly as ELM flips backwards in midair and comes soaring down, plunging right onto TNT’s chest with a Shooting Star Press!

“MEXICAN PRIDE PRESS! MAGNIFICO JUST SEALED THE DEAL!!” Steve-O screams at the top of his lungs.

“…Ooooohhhh, IIIIIII see Taylor’s tactic, here… letting Magnifico get a fall and all…”

“…His tactic is to lose?”

“No! He’s pacing himself!”

“By losing?”

“SHUT UP!!”

El Luchadore Magnifico almost bounces all the way off of TNT due to the severe impact, grasping at his somewhat hurt chest and kicking at the mat in pain, but he collects himself as fast as he can, and hooks Taylor’s leg for the pin!! The crowd counts along with the talking zebra…

“ONE!!”

“TWO!!”

“THREE!!”

Eddie Long makes the signal to Funyon, and the crowd goes absolutely funky monkey at a Paisley Park party! TNT limply kicks out just a second too late, but it’s just that – a second too late.

“Ladies and gentlemen… the winner of the fall, via pinfall… EL LUCHADORE MAGNIFICO!!” Funyon announces from ringside. “There will now be a ten second rest period, for both competitors!”

“ELM shook off the minor damage that his leg had taken, and surprised Taylor by reversing his patented powerbomb maneuver into his own finisher! All he has to do is pin him one more time to seal the deal!”

“Not gonna happen! Look, TNT’s eyes are already fluttering!!”

Mags backs away from TNT, an ecstatic tinge in his mannerisms, and the explosive one starts to get up immediately. Thompson climbs to his feet, and recoils back into the corner of the ring, looking EXTREMELY disappointed in himself, but almost bitter at the same time. A glint of furious sadism is in his eyes, and as soon as Long makes the signal for the two to go back at it, he charges forward as aggressively as a moose in heat!! Taylor leans forward, going for a spear, but just as he reaches ELM’s corner, the smaller man dodges out of the way! TNT isn’t one to be fooled, and he stops just short of the ring post, so that when Magnifico turns around to face a presumed train wreck, all he finds is an enraged #1 Contender, who tears his leg right out from under him with a HARD spear to his knee! The Luchadore crumbles to the ground and lets out a shriek of pain, but TNT has no sympathy, as, without hesitation, he forces himself up to his feet, and starts dropping knees into the side of ELM’s thigh!! ELM squeals in distress, and Thompson stops for only a second, huffing and puffing, his mind racing in an attempt to decide on something to do, each of his ideas equally torturous. The inevitable light bulb goes off, and TNT turns his opponent over onto his stomach, and lifts his leg as high off of the mat as he can… SMASHING it down onto the canvas as hard as humanly possible!! The crowd collectively moans with sympathy, and Taylor only reacts to the Luchadore’s pain by pounding his leg into the ground a second time!!

“TNT is pissed off, and he’s taking all of his anger out onto ELM’s leg!” Riley howls. “This is grand, this is great! I couldn’t think of any better way to spend my Sunday night!”

“You have to be a little impressed by Taylor here, too. I mean, any other big man would probably be blinded by his anger and not think about what he was doing… but TNT seems to have a specific game plan here, and he’s sticking to it!”

Thompson thumps his adversary’s knee into the ground with hardly palpable impact a third time, and then goes Madonna as he reinvents himself, changing directions in his leg-killing by dragging Magnifico up to his feet! ELM is still clearly conscious, but the pain in his leg looks like it has him just about to faint. Thompson gets ELM up to a standing position, and drills one or two forearms into his head to stagger him. He then spins Magnifico around to face away from him, and pulls up his shin so that it’s horizontal to the mat.

“Taylor going for a shinbreaker here…” Mark watches on. “The champ avoided this very same move earlier on, but now he’s a lot more fatigued… does he have it in him to reverse the maneuver?”

Sadly, the answer to Stevens’ query is a resound “no,” as Taylor lifts ELM up off of the mat for a full three seconds, and then kneels down, dropping Magnifico’s bent leg over his knee with a shinbreaker! Magnifico visually winces, and collapses onto his side, but Taylor is far from done with the Cruiserweight. He lifts the Luchadore’s left leg off of the mat slightly, and looks to have something cruel in mind…

“Magnifico’s legs are taking a brutal beating here, and I’m not sure how long it will be before he can hardly even stand up anymore… I’m not even sure if he’ll ever fully recover after this match,” Mark seems a bit worried.

“I haven’t seen merciless leg-work like this since that Axis versus Sacred match from Genesis III last September, and TNT hasn’t even brought a chair into the match yet!” Riley is exhilarated by the slow and meticulous destruction of his least favorite World Champion.

Thompson doesn’t waste practically any time, and without even pausing for more than a second or two, he lopes across the ring towards the ring corner, dragging ELM with him! Once he reaches the turnbuckle, Taylor drops down to the mat and slides under the bottom rope, still holding onto ELM’s leg! The Luchadore is dragged right after him, but his path to the outside isn’t so free of obstacles, and he’s inevitable crotched onto the ring post!! The crowd lets out an “ooh!” as does Magnifico, as do Mark and Bobby.

“Ooh!” they say.

ELM grimaces in hurt, but he’s only seen the beginning of it, as Taylor gives the foreign fighter’s leg some slack, and swings it right into the ring post! The throbbing pain in the fan favorite’s tender thigh makes him moan out loud, and his fans moan as well, but Taylor shows no mercy, simply thumping his foe’s leg into the post once more!!

“Jesus TNT,” Mark begs. “Just let the man cope with the pain for a minute, will you? Show some clemency!”

“Hah! Clemency!? Despite not knowing what that means, it sounds like something you would have, so I can guarantee you that TNT doesn’t have an inch of it in his entire body!” Riley says, apparently guaranteeing that TNT doesn’t have an inch of clemency in his entire body.

Taylor grabs both of ELM’s legs, but just as he does so, Magnifico bends his knees inward, so that he pulls Thompson face-first into the ring post!! TNT releases his enemy’s legs and puts a hand on his forehead to feel the lump that will surely form, but he doesn’t want to give the Luchadore too much time to recuperate, sliding back into the ring after the sprightly man. ELM has struggled up to his feet though, and is waiting for the dynamite warrior, as just as Taylor hops up to his feet, Magnifico leaps off of the mat, going for a dropkick right to TNT’s chest! The crowd brief cheers soon fade out to silence as Magnifico barely gets any air at all, and his dropkick hits Taylor around the gut as weakly as a dropkick can possibly hit.

“Magnifico got the advantage there for an instant, but he was just too week to follow up, and it looks like Taylor has quickly regained control over this matchup!”

ELM lands rigidly on his back, and Thompson shrugs his move off, lifting Mags’ legs vertical to the mat, and stomping his foot right onto the inside of his thigh! TNT sets Magnifico’s leg over the bottom rope, and climbs up to the second cable himself. Taylor bounces up and down slightly to get some impetus behind him, and then he drops off of the second rope, all the way down onto ELM’s leg as he lands in a sitting position! The Luchadore’s leg snaps on the bottom rope, and Thompson puts all of the downward pressure that he can muster onto it, really wrenching down onto the nimble combatant’s leg.

“Taylor has completely massacred Magnifico’s leg here tonight… and I just don’t know how much longer it will be until he locks on a submission and possibly even gets a fall out of the whole situation,” Mark states.

“Well… I’d say right abooooout now…” Riley says giddily as TNT drags ELM by his legs out into the center of the ring.

Thompson holds Magnifico’s leg up by the foot, and he jerks it to the side repeatedly, trying to pivot it right out of its socket! El Luchadore is too disabled to really reverse anything while grounded now, and all he can do is cup his hands over his eyes, screeching in torment each and every time TNT twists on his leg. Finally, Thompson stops jerking ELM’s leg around, and steps over it, setting Magnifico up for a figure-four lock! The SWF World Champion tries to kick Taylor off of his leg with his other, but he doesn’t have enough strength in his lower body, and TNT doesn’t budge!! He bends ELM’s leg around his own, making the luchador pequeño’s legs into a “4” shape… and then he falls backwards, successfully locking on the devastating submission!!

“FIGURE-FOUR!!!!!” Mark screams in horror. “TAYLOR HAS THE FIGURE-FOUR LOCKED ON, AND IF MAGNIFICO DOESN’T TAP, HIS CAREER COULD BE IN DANGER HERE!!”

“SUBMIT!!” Riley demands, before having second thoughts. “Wait… his career? Um, hey ELM! Don’t tap out! Just stay in the hold until you can’t feel your legs, okay!?”

Magnifico SHRIEKS in absolute torment, and he covers his face with his hands, falling back onto his shoulders…

“ONE!!”

“TWO!!”

ELM suddenly realizes the predicament that he’s in, and his torso shoots up off of the mat, as he still persistently screams out in pain! TNT jerks his legs back and forth, as if more motion would cause his opponent to submit, but it does him no good!

“Do you submit!?” Eddie Long questions the Luchadore.

“AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!” Mags replies.

“DO YOU QUIT!?!?!?!?”

“AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NO! NOOOOO!”

Thompson appears to be a little perturbed at ELM’s resilience now, and he pushes his torso upwards with his arms alone in order to get more leverage on the move! Magnifico’s arms are now flailing every which way, desperately searching for a rope break, but there are no ropes to be found, as the miniscule Mexican is almost in the center of the ring! Knowing that attempting to crawl to the ropes will get him nowhere due to TNT’s sheer strength and leverage, ELM decides instead to attempt to roll over onto his belly! He reaches with his arm to the side and leans in one direction with all of his might, but Taylor uses all of the power in his entire body to keep Magnifico still!

“I don’t think ELM is going to escape Bobby…”

“No shit Sherlock!”

“He’s in the center of the ring, nowhere to go, and his only option is to try to outmatch TNT in strength, and turn this move over!”

“Hah, you forgot about the ‘quit’ option.”

Magnifico is one of the most relentless SWF Champions of all time, and no matter how many times Eddie Long asks for the submission, he lets out a resounding “NO!” He lies on the mat, grimacing in pain, as TNT just stares on… but suddenly he feels himself being turned over, and ELM puts ALL of his weight and ALL of his strength to one side, flipping the figure-four lock allllllllmost over… NO! At the last second, TNT realizes what is happening, and he quickly jerks ELM back into place.

“He just has no way of escape!” Mark is horrified at the condition that ELM might be in if he doesn’t get out of the hold soon. “Just tap Magnifico, at least you won’t be too unhealthy to compete for the rest of the match!”

The Luchadore’s eyes squint, his teeth grit… he knows that he has no way of escaping… and finally, very hesitantly, he lets out one last cry, and taps his arm repeatedly onto the mat.

*** TAP TAP TAP ***

“Ladies and gentlemen… the winner of the fall, via submission… TTTTTTTTTTTTT-NNNNNNNNNNN-TTTTTTTTTTTTT! There will now be a ten second rest period!” Funyon proclaims for the second time tonight.

March 17, 2003

Thompson reluctantly releases his figure-four lock on ELM’s tender legs, and Magnifico looks terribly disappointed at having to tap. TNT doesn’t try to get in a cheap shot, but he merely grins a grin that’s a mile wide, and backs away from the downed World Champ. Magnifico meanwhile, drags himself over to the opposite ropes, and starts to climb up to his feet with the assistance of the chords.

“Magnifico simply had no choice, and now TNT only needs one more fall…” Stevens is concerned. “And I don’t know if that will be too hard to get, as most of his offense has been hindered due to his hurt legs.”

“Well, he said that he was going to teach everyone that he WASN’T the underdog, and tonight, TNT has proven that he’s better than the World Champion!” Riley is thrilled.

“Not yet though Bobby… ELM might still have one or two tricks up his sleeve… we can hope…”

Magnifico barely gets to his feet just as his ten-second break is up, and thankfully discovers that he can – albeit some struggle and a slight limp – stand up without rope assistance. The ten second rest period is up though, and TNT strides purposefully over to Mags, his eyes fixated on his leg. He grabs a handful of ELM’s head, to pry him into the center of the ring, but is surprised to find some life in the illegal alien of a champion, who lashes out at him with a knife-edge chop!!

*** SMACK ***

“WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!” the fans jump out of their seats and cheer loudly as ELM lets them know that he’s still in this…

*** SMACK ***

But they are suddenly shot back down into silence by TNT, who delivers a knife-edge chop twice as hard!!! He looks down at his reddened chest in disgust, but it quickly gets a lot redder, as the Luchadore doesn’t falter back with just one chop, and retaliates with a SCINTILLATING chop of his own!!

*** SMACK ***

“WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!”

“Mags is fighting back!”

“Who does he think he is!?!? Blow him the fuck up, TNT!”

“El Luchadore only has the use of one leg, and he’s really taken a beating, but he’s still trudging forward and giving his all!”

Taylor backs up a step or two, and ELM follows him (with a heavy limp to boot,) nailing another knife-edge chop!

*** SMACK ***

“WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!”

…and another!

*** SMACK ***

“WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!”

…and another!

*** SMACK ***

“WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!”

Taylor’s chest sizzles with pain, and ELM doesn’t allow him to collect himself, as he quickly latches on a front facelock… and jumps up into the air, spinning around Taylor, and driving his head straight down into the mat with a tornado DDT! Thompson hits the mat with a momentous force, and the impact of the move causes him to somersault over onto his back, and skid almost an entire yard!

“A TORNADO DDT PUTS TAYLOR DOWN!!” Mark screams over the roaring crowd! “And ELM did it from a standing position, too! He’s still got some speed and agility left, and he’s using it to its full potential while he still can!”

“NO! NONONO!! Taylor, how the hell did you get suckered into that one!?” Bobby is perplexed.

Magnifico looks a little surprised himself, and he quickly scurries over to TNT on his hands and knees, draping himself over the big man, and hooking the leg!

“ONE!!”

“TWO!!”

“TH—NO!!”

Thompson kicks out at the last second, and he looks severely angered at the fact that he let ELM keep him down for even a two-count! A ribbon of blood has streaked down Taylor’s face out of the blood reservoir that is his ear, thanks to the kicks to the head that he received earlier in the night, and his eyes are a little glassy. Nonetheless, he fights through a possible minor concussion, and tows himself up to his feet… but Magnifico has already gotten up as well, and he bounces off the nearby ropes, coming back at his opponent with a flying forearm to the face! Taylor goes down, and ELM knows that his advantage may be short lived, so he speedily gets up to his feet, runs to the opposite ropes, and bounces back… leaping up into the air and landing right on Taylor’s chest with a flipping senton splash!

“Come on Taylor, all it takes is a knee-clip or something… kill the little bastard!”

“Magnifico has really turned the tables here, as he’s using all of his remaining speed to wear TNT down!”

Taylor wearily gets up to his feet, but the Luchadore is ready for him, grabbing him from behind with a side headlock. Not wasting any time, he runs forward just a few steps, before sitting out and bringing his knees into Taylor’s face!

“MIDNIGHT SPECIAL!!!!!” Mark Stevens shows some Carnie pride and pops bigger than Jim Ross at a Stone Cold cloning party. “I haven’t seen Mags use that move in quite a while, but it has been known to have quite an effect!”

“You fucking bias!” Riley accuses Mark. “How can you be so happy when TNT’s beautiful, beautiful face has been tarnished so severely!?”

Magnifico flips TNT onto his back, and goes to hook the leg… but realizes that Taylor is perfectly positioned in front of the turnbuckle! With a bright smile taking up half of his face, ELM rises to his feet… and shoots his arm into the air, pointing upwards!! The crowd goes wild!!!!!

“ELM is going to take flight!!!!” Mark Stevens says in his loudest voice, trying ever-so much not to be drowned out by the crowd.

“Nonsense! His leg isn’t in good enough condition! How the hell is he supposed to get any air whatsoever when his leg has been destroyed to the point that it has tonight!?” Bobby says, smashing his hand down onto the commentary table.

Magnifico turns and walks over to the ring post, quickly stepping out onto the apron, and then scaling it step by step! He flinches in pain every time that he puts much weight on his bad leg, but Magnifico eventually gets to the top rope, stands up straight to get some balance…

“HE’S ALIVE! HE’S ALIIIIIVE!!!!!!!!!” Bobby screams as if it were the second coming of Jesus, or Liberace, as Taylor surprisingly pops up to his feet, and runs up to the ring post that Magnifico is standing on!

In a surprising display of suppleness, TNT leaps up to the second rope, and grabs the shocked Luchadore in position for a T-Bone/Exploder suplex! Mags realizes just what the hell is going on, but it’s a second too late, and he doesn’t have enough time to react, because with all of the strength in his body, Taylor falls back, and HURLS Magnifico right over his head with a second rope exploder suplex!!!!!!!!! The crowd marks big for the high-risk maneuver, but the initial pop soon transforms into a collective cringe at the impact of ELM landing right on his head, neck, and shoulders!

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!!!!” Bobby jumps out of his seat.

“Top rope EXPLODAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!” Stevens screams, privately hoping that ELM’s neck isn’t broken. “He landed right on his head… and I don’t think that he’ll be getting up after that one! He’s so determined to keep his World Title… but after a move like that, I just can’t see him getting up!”

Taylor lies on his back for a full ten seconds, and ELM shows not a single sign of life. His entire body aching, Taylor turns over onto his belly, and slowly crawls over to Magnifico, draping an arm over his limp carcass. The crowd counts along Sesame Street style…

“ONE!!”

“TWO!!”

“THREEEEEE—NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Not a soul in the Telewest Arena is sitting down, and the noise level is OFF THE CHARTS!!!!

“MAGNIFICO KICKS OUT!!!! HE’S STILL IN THIS!!!!!” Mark marks out like a mark.

“NO! THAT WAS THREE! CROOKED REFEREE!” Riley’s face is beet red with rage.

“Well, duh, it’s Eddie Long… remember King versus Raynor?”

“NO! I MEAN… CROOKED REFEREE AGAINST TNT!! HE WAS CHEATED AND YOU KNOW IT CANNED SPAM!!”

Within a period of two seconds, Taylor goes from concentrated intensity to uncontrollable rage, as he leaps up to his feet, and begins SCREAMING at the referee! Eddie Long gets right in TNT’s face, and doesn’t back down, holding up two fingers right in front of Taylor’s face!

“Wait a tick… who’s that on the entrance ramp?” Riley asks.

“It’s… it’s CIA!! And he’s got a chair!!! He wants to help his stable mate out! …But wait… NO! CIA! Magnifico told you not to interfere! If you hit Taylor with that chair, Magnifico will be disqualified, TNT will get the fall… and we’ll have a title change on our hands!” Stevens evidentially thinks that the crazed Canuck can here him.

“Title change? ……………GO CIA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

The crowd doesn’t get into little DQ details, and CIA’s reaction as he runs down the ramp is nothing but positive, as every fan in the arena cheers on the Canadian Intelligence Agency! Meanwhile, in the ring, Thompson is so infuriated that he grabs Eddie Long by the collar of his striped shirt, and begins verbally berating him, as if he were about to take his head off! No such thing happens however, because right when Taylor reaches back… CIA reaches the ring, jumps up onto the apron… and swings his chair right down onto Taylor’s head…

…BUT TAYLOR REACHES HIS HANDS UP, BLOCKING THE CHAIR SHOT!! TNT tries to rip the metallic seat right out of CIA’s hands, but the Canadian grappler refuses to let go, and he spots a now recovered Magnifico right behind Taylor. ELM is confused for a moment, but just as he realizes what’s going on, he hones in on Taylor Thompson from behind… AND GETS FLOORED WITH A BRUTAL, BRUTAL CHAIRSHOT AS TNT TEARS THE CHAIR OUT OF CIA’S HANDS, AND THE MOMENTUM CAUSES HIM TO SWING ALL THE WAY AROUND AND NAIL ELM IN THE HEAD WITH IT!!!!!!!!

“CHAIRSHOT TO MAGNIFICO!!!” Mark screams!

“Yeehaw! Wait… does this mean what I think it means?”

The referee makes a signal to Funyon, and the announcer raises the microphone up to his lips… “Ladies and gentlemen… the winner of the fall, via disqualification… EL LUCHADORE MAGNIIIIFIIIICOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There will now be a ten second resting period.”

The crowd pops big, and Taylor’s eyes pop as well, right out of their sockets!! The challenger’s jaw drops to the floor, and you can actually see the fire in his eyes, as he turns around and cracks his chair right over CIA’s head as well! The Canadian falls off of the ring apron and down to the cement below, as TNT throws the chair out of the ring, still shaking with anger.

“Taylor is PISSED Mark! I don’t think Magnifico is too safe in the ring with him right now… but it’s not like that’s a bad thing, eh?”

“CIA ran down to ringside against his stablemate’s will to save him, but his plan backfired, as Magnifico ended up getting lambasted with that chair, and though it got him a fall… it doesn’t look like he’s in any shape to follow up!!”

TNT grips the top ring rope as tightly as he can to stop himself from shaking, looking down on the now bloodied World Champion with nothing but pure hatred and intensity in his eyes. Eddie Long counts off the ten second rest period as the crowd is left to wonder what TNT will do… and as soon as the zebra makes the signal for the two to go at it, Taylor roughly rips ELM off of the mat by his hair, and shoves his head in between his legs for the standing headscissors! Magnifico is to out of it to even stay on his feet without assistance now, and he doesn’t put up a fight at all, as TNT hastily hooks his arms, lifts him up onto his shoulders… and drives him onto his back with a sitout powerbomb!

“ELM couldn’t even fight back and Taylor just Mushroom Clouded him… I think that’s good enough for a three count right there, and I don’t know how long Mags will last for the next fall, either…” Mark is doubtful at how much fight ELM has left in him.

“Well, this is MY wet dream,” Bobby gives us a little too much information, as the referee makes the academic count for the pin.

“ONE!!”

“TWO!!”

“THREE!!”

The crowd boos fervently at the quick fall, and Funyon makes it official: “Ladies and gentlemen… the winner of this fall, via pinfall… TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN-TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!! As usual, there will be a ten second rest period before the match continues.” Thompson smiles broadly and releases Magnifico, standing up to his feet, just getting prepared for a similarly easy second fall.

“Just one more fall, and we’ve got a new champ… and the era of bottled water comes to a close!” Bobby says excitedly.

“That chairshot really just cost Magnifico the match in hindsight… I don’t know how the hell he’ll recover from that, and his legs are still injured, too…” Mark sees the unfortunate predicament that Magnifico is in, and doesn’t like it one bit.

Once again, the referee signals for the two men to fight, and Taylor, the only wrestler that’s a live at this moment, simply drops down onto Magnifico, and hooks the leg for the pin!

“ONE!!”

“TWO!!”

“TH—NO!!!!”

The corpse of ELM comes to life just in time, as his arm surges off of the mat, as if he were reaching for something in the sky! The crowd blows the roof off of the stadium with their support for the Mexican immigrant, and every single person in the Telewest Arena (save Bobby Riley) begins stomping their feet into the ground, creating a proverbial drumroll for a hopefully Magnifico comeback!!

“I can hardly hear myself think!! Shut up all of you!” Riley screams.

“You think!?”

”What!? I can’t hear you!”

“Nevermind then!!”

TNT almost smirks at the Luchadore’s refusal to lose his World Title, and he scrapes his opponent up off of the mat, and sets him upright in a standing position! Taylor backs away from Magnifico, thinking of what to do as the Luchadore stands wobbling in front o him, hardly keeping his balance. Taylor almost smiles as he gets an idea, and briskly clips ELM’s leg out from under him with a kick to the calf! Magnifico yelps out and falls onto his back, as TNT makes the quick cover!

“ONE!!”

“TWO!!”

“NO!!”

ELM is hurting, but he won’t be put down with a simple kick, and he uses all of the oomph that he has left to kick out!

“Taylor really is showing glints of the old TNT here. He’s getting a bit full of himself, and that could lead to his downfall if Magnifico has enough energy in him to take advantage of it,” Mark explains.

“Bullshit… Taylor’s just methodically wearing ELM down before finally putting the nail in the coffin!” Bobby retorts.

Thompson doesn’t look too surprised, and he again picks Magnifico up to his feet, this time taking his feet out from under him with a double leg takedown, and trying to step over the Light Heavyweight to apply a Boston Crab!! The champ has reclaimed some of his liveliness by now though, and when Taylor tries to step over him, he panics, flopping around back and forth on the mat in an attempt to escape TNT! Taylor quickly becomes frustrated and leans forward to get some leverage, but that turns out to be a bad move on his part, as Magnifico reaches up, grabs a handful of Taylor’s dreadlocks, and liquidizes his face with a hard right hand!! He then contracts his legs, and shoves TNT backwards, getting up to his feet so that he can follow up… only to receive a big boot for his efforts!! The sole of Thompson’s black wrestling boot nearly leaves ELM without a head, and the petite combatant goes down fast and hard! Taylor nearly has enough momentum behind him to send him out of the ring, but he skids to a stop, and turns around, falling onto ELM for the cover!

“Taylor Thompson pins the headless horsemen, could this be it!?” Riley gleefully laughs at his own bad joke.

“ONE!!”

“TWO!!”

“THR—NO!!”

Magnifico rolls over onto his side, and Taylor makes his way to his feet once again, knowing that he’s only a second away from being crowned the new World Heavyweight Champion. Thompson moves slowly, sufficiently fatigued by now, as he stands in the center of the ring, thinking over his next move. TNT looks down onto the fallen Magnifico, and not knowing what else to do, he compromises by simply stomping repeatedly down onto his leg!

“Taylor looks like he’s trying to think of something to do… and has decided to work on ELM’s leg in the meantime… I just don’t know how Magnifico is going to come back from this, he’s just taken too much,” Mark is saddened already, and the Luchadore hasn’t even lost yet.

“And now, the end is near!” Bobby says merrily.

Magnifico hardly has enough in him to sell the stomps anymore, and TNT concludes that it’s time to put the World Champion out for good! Knowing that his moment to shine is almost upon him, Taylor smiles as he reaches down and hauls ELM to his feet, and then leans over, lifting Magnifico up onto his shoulders with an inverted fireman’s carry!! Suddenly, the fans realize what is about to happen, and the arena is thrown into a state of uninhibited disarray as audience nearly starts a riot, booing TNT out of the building!!!!!

“Oh no! Don’t do it TNT!” Mark pleads with the explosive one. “He’s setting up Mags for the same move that he almost broke Annie’s neck to win the Clusterfuck… the Detonation Drop!!”

“One jumping sheer drop burning hammer cooooooooooooooommmmming up for Sir Mister El Luchadore Magnificoooooo!” Riley has a stupid grin on his face that anyone would want to punch.

Taylor stands still with El Luchadore on his shoulders for a few seconds, as if to add some drama to the moment… and then he goes to spin around… but Magnifico abruptly revives himself, sliding right off of TNT’s shoulders and landing on his feet! Taylor’s eyes widen and he spins around to face his clever opponent, who wipes the blood out of his eyes, just in time to connect with a low kick to TNT’s midsection, doubling him over! TNT is still surprised at Magnifico’s sudden resurgence of life, and all he can do is think “Oh no” as ELM robotically puts him into a standing headscissors, hooks his arms, and DRIVES HIS FACE INTO THE MAT WITH A DAYBREAK PEDIGREE!!!

“Daybreak! Daybreak! Magnifico hits Annie Eclectic’s finisher on TNT to get revenge for Annie’s defeat at the Clusterfuck!! He didn’t even really know what was going on there, but he regained enough sense to hit a move that is sure to keep TNT down!”

“NO! TNT! YOU CAN’T FALL TO A GIRL’S MOVE!!”

“Hey… maybe it was a Walk Off?”

”No way. You’re so self-centered, Mark… BUT SERIOUSLY! A GIRL’S MOVE!! YOU CAN’T LET HIM PIN YOU TNT!!!”

Magnifico still seems to be on auto-pilot as he routinely gets up to his feet as fast as he can, point up to the Heavens… and walks over to the nearest turnbuckle!! The crowd is on their feet, and an “E! L! M!” chant starts up, increasing with each step that Magnifico takes to get to the top rope!!

“He’s going for the Mexican Pride Press,” Mark points out the obvious. “And once he’s done that, the pin is just an afterthought!”

“Stop drop and roll TNT! Or just the third one… just get the fuck out of the way!!!!!!” Bobby is almost crying now.

Magnifico reaches the top rope, and turns around to face TNT, who lies completely still just two or three yards away. ELM turns to salute his Mexican flag, stands up completely straight… and suddenly, he loses his balance, as his leg gives out, and he crotches himself on the top turnbuckle pad! The crowd groans a groan of sympathy as Magnifico lets out a grunt of pain, cupping both hands over his little Luchadore to console it.

“Klutz!”

“Ouch! Magnifico’s weak knee gave out on him just as he was about to perform his finishing maneuver, and now he’s one vulnerable World Champion… looks like all that legwork finally paid off! If TNT can capitalize here… then a World Title could very well be in his future.”

“Damn straight.”

A few seconds of silence ensue, as Thompson doesn’t react at all, simply lying on the mat, seemingly unconscious… and then, accompanied by the amount of boos that would be expected in this situation, TNT rolls over onto his belly, and gradually regains his footing. The dynamite warrior looks around him with glazed over eyes, completely confused, but he soon spots ELM sitting on the top rope in pain, puts two and two together… and walks over to the ring post himself, stepping up to the second rope!!

“TNT is looking for a move here… but what’s he going to do? Another exploder suplex from the top? A top rope powerbomb? A top rope tombstone?” Mark runs through the possibilities.

“Either way… El Luchadore Magnifico is going to be a very dead Mexican,” Riley says maliciously. “And I like the sound of a Spanish Appetizer right now, I’m starved after just coffee for almost four hours.”

Magnifico pegs Taylor in the head with a set of weak forearms, but TNT promptly tames him with a stiff elbow to the jaw, and then one to the temple of his forehead! The crowd is as hot as a Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show in the middle of Brazil, as they anxiously look on to see what Thompson is going to do. The explosive one pauses for a second, thinking of his options… and then, a defiant grin makes its way onto his face. Exceptionally jerky in all of his movements now, Taylor snaps a front facelock on Magnifico, and lifts him up so that he’s standing up onto the top rope!!

“…Oh no…”

“…Oh yes…!”

Every fan in the entire crowd, from the front row to the nosebleeds, simultaneously realizes what TNT is up to… and they all boo at the same volume: LOUD. Thompson steadies himself, and the victim of his upcoming move as well… and then, he steps up to the top rope himself… tightens his grip around his opponent’s neck… and lifts him vertical to the mat for just one instant, before falling…

…all…

…the way…

…DOWN to the canvas, SPIKING THE WORLD CHAMPION’S CRANIUM RIGHT INTO THE MAT WITH A BOILMAKER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“OHMYGOD!!!” Grand Slam screams in shock. “TNT JUST HIT TOM FLESHER’S FINISHING MOVE ON EL LUCHADORE MAGNIFICO, AND OUR WORLD CHAMPION IS DEAD! DEAD DEAD DEAD!!!”

The audience is anything BUT dead however, as they boo, hiss, and jeer the living hell out of Taylor Nicholas Thompson, who simply lies on the mat, smiling up at the lights!

“TNT tried to get back into his home stable, the Magnificent Seven, just two months ago… and Tom Flesher rejected him! And now, just two months after returning to the SWF, TNT has done what Tom Flesher failed in doing twice, and with his finisher to boot, just to rub it in: Defeat El Luchadore Magnifico for the SWF World Heavyweight Championship!!”

“RUBBING IT IN!? Guffaw Mark! That was OBVIOUSLY a TRIBUTE to his childhood hero - Tom Flesher!”

“Childhood hero? They’re the same age!”

“Shut up! YOU’RE RUINING THE MOMENT!! TNT IS GOING TO BE OUR NEW WORLD CHAMPION!!!!”

“Magnifico has been known to kick out at unlikely times in the past, though…”

“Magnifico? You mean that dead pile of flesh in the center of the ring with all the flies around it?”

ELM’s eyes flutter closed, and the crimson mask that has formed on his face makes it hard to see if he has any expression on his face whatsoever. Knowing how close he is to realizing his dream, Taylor turns over onto his belly, and inches over to his deceased adversary, reaching over and hooking his leg…

“ONE!!”

“TWO!!”

“THREEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

*** DING DING DING ***

The crowd boos, but Taylor doesn’t care one bit, as he struggles to his feet, and raises both of his arms into the air, signaling victory!

“TNT HAS DONE IT!! TAYLOR NICHOLAS THOMPSON HAS WON THE SWF WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP FROM THE MOST DOMINANT CHAMP WE’VE EVER HAD, AND PROVED THAT HE DESERVES THE RESPECT THAT HE’S ALWAYS TALKING ABOUT!!!!” Mark screams over the avid crowd!

“YES!! YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!” Bobby’s is thrilled, and his enthusiasm is off the hook. “Taylor brings the World Title back over to the heel side, and I’m gonna party like it’s 1999!!”

A ring official hands Eddie Long the World Title, and Funyon announces the most uplifting words that Taylor Thompson has ever heard… “Ladies and gentlemen… the winner of this bout… having scored TWO consecutive falls on his opponent… and your NEW (boos) Smarks Wrestling Federation Champion of the Woooooooorld! …Taylor Nicholas Thompson… TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN-TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Eddie Long hands the blissful TNT his newly gained belt, and Thompson almost snatches it away, lifting it up above his head for all to see! “TNT” by AC/DC funks from the loudspeakers, but the boos of the crowd nearly make it inaudible. It doesn’t matter to Taylor Thompson though, as he just smiles, knowing that he has proven himself to just about everyone in the arena tonight. To Frost. To Flesher. To the fans… everyone. TNT strides over to the ring post, climbs up to the second rope… and with a huge gleaming smile plastered on his face, he flails his Title up above his head, letting out a “KABOOOOOOOM!!!” to everyone within a hearing distance!

“Taylor Nicholas Thompson has realized his dream tonight, and has shown everyone just what a competitor he is, confirming his placement in the cream of the SWF by beating the World Champion!”

“Creamy alright,” Bobby makes a comment that only he understands.

Taylor hops back down to the mat, and straps his World Title belt around his waist, looking down on it proudly. Tears form in TNT’s eyes, but he does not cry. Glancing at the unconscious Magnifico one more time, Taylor steps out of the ring, leaving the Luchadore in the center of the canvas, covered in his own mortal red, now a former SWF World Champion. With a smile still etched onto his face, Thompson exits up the entrance ramp, raising a single arm up into the air. He stops at the top of the stage, turns around, and looks back and forth, scanning the entire arena… his eyes filled with happiness… with joy… with pride.

“TNT entered the Telewest Arena tonight as the supposed underdog for this matchup, and he’s leaving World Champion… but what’s in store for the NEW top man in the business?” Stevens suddenly transforms into a classic Batman-esque announcer. “What’s his status quo with Tom Flesher, Frost, and even the still comatose Magnifico? Hell, speaking of ELM, how will he react to CIA, whose interference partly cost him his World Title belt? We’ve seen a lot of action tonight… returning legends, entirely new faces… but most importantly, we’ve seen a new World Champion crowned. And who knows what’s in store for him? You viewers at home will just have to tune into future SWF programming to find out!”

“I’ve already called up a few buds in Taiwan and they’re hooking me up with the recourses required for a TNT shrine Mark.”

“…Right Bobby. Well, this is ‘Grand Slam’ Mark Stevens…”

“And the most charismatic man in sports entertainment, Bobby Riley!!”

“Saying good fight… umm… goodbye!”

“Damn straight!”

The last image that the viewers at home see is the recognizable figure of Taylor Nicholas Thompson, as he beams at the audience with joy. His new World Title is strapped around his waist… and the golden belt is the last thing that the camera catches sight of before TNT disappears behind the backstage curtain, the SWF logo appears on the lower left-hand corner of the screen, and we fade out into nothingness.

March 17, 2003

The house lights turn on even as the cameras turn off, and the good people of Newcastle begin to file from their seats... only to be interrupted!

"WHOAH!! NO ONE GOES HOME YET, KIDS!!"

The crowd instinctively begins to boo as they turn and regard the Suicide King, commissioner of the SWF! King frantically waves them off...

"No. no... you misunderstand. The cameras are off my good people, and I just came out here for two things. First and foremost to thank you for being a fabulous crowd! All night long you kept the boys energized and you let them know how you felt, and for us there is no greater reward! Thank you!"

The fans, clearly confused by this point, cheer slightly.

"Secondly... it's far too rare that I get to play my natural self as opposed to the over-the-top heel you are all used to..."

"YOU SUCK KING!!!"

"Thank you, thank you." The audience joins King in a good-natured laugh at the over-zealous fan. "But tonight there is one last special treat we would like to share with our fans in Newcastle. As you know, some time ago we began the balloting for this year's inductees into the SWF Hall of Fame! Well, my good people, you tonight are going to be the first to hear those results!!!"

The crowd explodes into red hot shrapnel!

"Now, sadly many of the winner couldn't be here tonight, but I will accept it on their behalf. And I know it's late and you are tired so I will keep this brief..."

March 17, 2003

Your 2003 Hall of Fame inductees!

"GRAND SLAM" MARK STEVENS

EDWIN MACPHISTO

THE SUICIDE KING

THE HVILLE THUGG

and.....

SACRED

March 17, 2003

An absolutely wonderful show! I wouldn't dream of posting responses as each and every match is worth reading! And might I add that there wasn't a single no-show!!!!!!

A fantastic job everyone. CC give you a standing ovation.

FROM THE FIRE 2003!!!!

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