SWF Storm! 3-21-2003

March 22, 2003

Peace. Peace and quiet and tranquility and stillness is all that is to be found outside of the Kemper Arena. The entire arena is lit up real good so that it stands out like a jewel in the tornado-prone Kansas City, and a large neon sign out front of the stadium reads:

TONIGHT!!

9:00pm:

SWF STORM!!!

12:00am:

BINGO HALL!!!

The arena remains on screen for only a moment longer, and then…

*** BOOM ***

“WELCOME!!”

*** BOOM BOOM BOOM ***

“Ladies, gents, and everything in between!”

*** BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOOOOOOOOOOM ***

“…to… SWF STORM!!!!!!!!!!” the Heavy Hitter wails as the SWF logo flashes across the screen and a wall of blistering and sizzling pyrotechnics blasts up from the stage!

“We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto!” Bobby Riley adds, just three coffees into the night.

“Oh, but we are, as we’re coming to you tonight LIVE from the Kemper Arena in Kansas City, Missouri! We’ve got a line up of matches that you DON’T want to miss as tonight we come right off the rebound of our last Pay-Per-View, From the Fire, with one of the most explosive shows that we’ve had in ages!”

“Speaking of explosives…”

A deafening guitar riff quickly silences the crowd’s cheering, and a few “Oi’s” later, the NEW World Heavyweight Champion, Taylor Nicholas Thompson, is striding down the ramp to AC/DC’s “TNT,” his newly won title strapped around his waist for all to see! The letters “T-N-T” flash across the Smarktron, embezzled in flames and explosions and the like, and foreshadowed by an ear-splitting “Watch me explooooooooooode,” a dozen or so orange and red pyrotechnics cannon out of the stage!!! TNT’s intent expression never falters however, and he continues his long journey down the entrance ramp, finally reaching the ring and sliding in under the bottom rope. He doesn’t play to the crowd or stall at all, instantly calling for Funyon to pass him a microphone.

“It’s TNT, the World Champ! Taylor Thompson beat El Luchadore Magnifico last Sunday in a two consecutive falls match, and won the World Title in the process… he asked for the opening words of tonight’s show, and got them apparently, but what he has to say is a mystery to us!” Mark observes. “Will he have some words for ELM? Tom Flesher? CIA? Fro—“

“Shhhh!” Bobby cuts his “sadly” heterosexual co-commentator off. “He’s about to speak!”

The music stops, and Funyon tosses a mic into the ring, which TNT promptly snatches out of the air. He presses it up against his lips, obviously having something to say.

“…”

The crowd cheers and boos and does just about everything in between, but TNT holds two fingers up, and they lapse into silence, wanting to hear what the World Champ has to say.

“…Huh… well, I didn’t expect any cheers…” TNT pauses, almost soaking in the semi-positive reaction for a second, but he hastily collects himself and continues. “But what I DID expect, is your respect, because last Sunday, I EARNED it… I didn’t steal it, or get it with any help… I EARNED it, by kicking El Luchadore Magnifico’s ass!” The crowd boos a bit for that, but they quiet down before TNT has to tell them to. “Your World Champion… your idol who you looked up to… your idea of what a World Champion should be, was BEATEN by me last Sunday, by that guy who just runs into walls and marks out for Annie Eclectic flipping over onto her back. And you know… huh… this wasn’t just for the hell of it. I had a distinct goal going into From the Fire last Sunday… and I accomplished that goal, for you see, last Sunday, by beating El Luchadore Magnifico, I not only won the World Heavyweight Champion Belt… but I won the RESPECT that I’ve deserved from the beginning as well! I beat three other bumpees on my first match here in the SWF. No respect. I beat Tom Flesher for his United States Championship. No respect. I beat Edwin MacPhisto, Chris Raynor, ELM, Z, and Thoth in a War Games match. No respect. I beat Edwin and Chris for their tag titles. No respect. I beat Xero in 7 seconds. No respect. I beat nineteen other men in the Clusterfuck… respect? Hah! No way, it must have been a fluke! But… but I beat El Luchadore Magnifico… THREE times in the same match, for his World Title… well, you see what I’ve done? Now, you don’t have a CHOICE. You HAVE to respect me. You HAVE to acknowledge the fact that I’ve done what Tom Flesher and the rest of the Magnificent Seven could never do. You HAVE to take into account that I won the World Title before dozens of people who were bumped before me… Erek Taylor? Forced to retire. Stryke? Can’t break through the glass ceiling. Ash Ketchum? Still trying to get rid of his hunky dory past. Tom Flesher? Tried twice, failed twice. I succeeded where they ALL failed, and now, I’m at the top of this federation… the best there is, the top wrestler that the SWF has to off—“

“UNO!”

*** BOOM ***

“DOS!”

*** BOOM ***

“TRES!”

*** BOOM ***

“CUATRO!”

*** BOOM ***

Without warning, “Mission Trip to Mexico” by a Bunch of Believers blares from the loud speakers, and El Luchadore Magnifico appears at the top of the entrance ramp himself, microphone in hand!

“No music! No music!” Magnifico says over his microphone as he walks down the ramp, stone cold expression on his face. Tech guy Ted Pollak cuts “Mission Trip to Mexico” before it even gets halfway through the chorus, and all that can be heard is the ravenously cheering crowd, until ELM’s voice rings out once more…

“So, esse!” Magnifico says with a smile on his face, still walking down the ramp. TNT exchanges glances with him, but the little man keeps on talking. “You come out ‘ere… talk and talk and talk… yap yap yap!” the Luchadore makes a slightly comic motion with his hands to symbolize the yapping. “You talk… what do you talk about esse… you talk about respect. You talk about your biiiiig machismo now that you’ve beaten the top esse in the business… You talk about being better than El Luchadore Magnifico, just because you beat him once… Well esse…”

El Luchadore approaches the ring now, and slides underneath the bottom rope, popping up to his feet.

“All I gotta say is… congratulations,” the Mexican cracks a smile. “Because you’ve got my respect.”

The crowd goes into a riot of cheers as the smaller man extends his hand for a handshake! TNT looks cautiously down at his former adversary’s hand, and then… “And you’ve got mine,” Taylor reaches out with his hand as well, and they shake, each man reverentially smiling at the other!

“Wha--… what’s going on here!? What are you doing TNT!?” Bobby is in shock.

“I believe that he’s showing respect for a fellow competitor, Bobby.”

The two back up from eachother, and it’s almost as if the segment is over already, but ELM makes sure to throw a wrench into the happy ending. “BUT,” he interrupts the roaring arena. “I want another shot at you, and a shot at proving MYSELF… MYSELF esse, by beating YOU, one on one.”

“WHAT!?” say Bobby and Mark.

The crowd goes crazy, and TNT is taken aback for a second, not expecting a challenge for his title this quickly. “A rematch? Well ELM…” TNT stops to think for a minute. “Well Magnifico… I’m a fighting champion, so you—“

“HERE WE ARE!!”

“BORN TO BE KINGS!!”

“WE’RE THE PRINCES OF THE UNIVERSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“OHHHHHH YESSSSS!!!!!!” Bobby nearly has an orgasm.

Both ELM and TNT’s attention are instantaneously directed towards the top of the entrance ramp, and every single fan in the arena begins to boo on instinct, looking down on the stage… where “The Superior One” Tom Flesher, Judge Mental, and Ejiro Fasaki all stand proudly! Ejiro stands with his hands on his hips, Tag Title fastened around his waist, while Judge Mental’s two titles are slung across his shoulders, and he confidentially cracks his fingers together in a taunting manner. Tom Flesher however, the only titleless man on stage, has a microphone in his hand, and a large, disgusted scowl on his face.

“What the hell is this!?!?!?!?” the music stops and Tom demands to know what the hell this is. “TNT, I was beginning to think that I had made a mistake… that you really were deserving of a spot in the Magnificent Seven. I mean, you proved yourself, doing what ‘I’ve never done before’… hah, no one seems to remember that Ultimate Submissions Match a while back. But then, you come out here, the new champ… and what do you do? Talk about RESPECT for your opponents!? Give out HANDSHAKES!? What the f**k is this sh**!?”

“You tell ‘em Taamo!” Bobby eggs on the former Tag Team Champion.

Thompson is terribly angered back in the ring, and even ELM looks to be a tad heated, but Tom goes on.

“NOW I remember why you were NEVER M7 material! NOW I remember why you just couldn’t cut it, why you would never be as good as me… or hell, the entire f**king stable! Nobody but the fans care whether or not you ‘respect’ your G****mn opponent, and they don’t know sh**!”

“Hey esse!” ELM interrupts, with what could almost be called a smirk etched into his face. “I donno what you think you doin’, but if you don’t get the hell out of here NOW, then I’m gonna have to kick your asno all over this ring AGAIN!”

The crowd goes wild, but sadly, Tom doesn’t. “…Hah… the tortilla midget wants to save the day. Well, I’ll tell you what little man… I’ll gladly kick your ass here in Judy Garland Country TONIGHT, but I want a peace of your new friend too.”

Taylor stares a hole into Tom, a hint of concern in his mannerisms, but with a generally confident glint in his eyes. The crowd cheers wildly, wondering what Tom is suggesting here…

“Because you see, tonight, ELM and TNT are going to be in a tag match… against Judge Mental… and ME.”

“WET DREAM IN PROGRESS!” Riley lights up like a giddy schoolgirl. “This is going to be a massacre! Yeehaw!”

“Well esse,” comes Magnifico’s reply. “…”

“WE ACCEPT,” Taylor interrupts, and the crowd pops HUGE!!

“Tom Flesher and Judge Mental versus Taylor Thompson and El Luchadore Magnifico tonight!” Mark Stevens screams with excitement. “I think we’ve got one hell of a match on our hands here Bobby, and on Free TV to boot!”

“Yeah, it’s not every day that you get to see two men murdered onscreen! Ahahahaha!”

“Well then…” Tom says with a smile, as Judge Mental and Ejiro share equally smirky smirks at either side of him. “We’ll see you later tonight… and trust me… you won’t be getting any ‘respect’ tonight Taylor… unless you’re ‘respectfully’ slaughtered… because I’m Tom Flesher, and I’ll put you down faster than a shot of tequila!”

“Princes of the Universe” starts up, and the Magnificent Seven members return to the backstage area, disappearing from the crowd’s sight. Meanwhile, Taylor and Magnifico remain in the ring, awkwardly exchanging a few words under their breath.

“There you have it ladies and gentlemen!” Grand Slam says. “What was supposed to be a victory speech has turned into a challenge, and it’s been accepted… and our tag team main event is ON!”

“Mwahahaha! Mass destruction and carnage galore! This is going to be great!”

“But folks, we’re going to have to leave you hanging, because it’s time for a commercial break… but don’t TOUCH your remote, because when we return, it’s the utterly green Déjà Vu going up against Janus and Fugue! We’ll be right back!”

---

“Hello this is Basketball ASA and I’m here to tell YOU about these NEW Pepsi MAX fruit snacks, full of fruity goodne--…………”

The commercial break starts up, as the fans ready themselves for what is guaranteed to be an excellent show…

March 22, 2003

In the arena bowl, the fans buzz loudly as they await the start of the first match on this edition of SWF Storm. Backstage, however, the SWF’s newest “talent” comes through the door that leads to the Kemper Arena loading dock. The camera rolls backwards as the twin members of Déjà Vu struggle down the corridor with a steel, cylindrical container in their grasp.

“Dude…this is SO gonna rock tonight,” Kris says excitedly. Kross nods in agreement as the two share the weight of the container between them. The camera slides to the left, allowing the brothers to pass by, but coming towards them is the SWF commissioner, Suicide King.

“Fellas…fellas…what are you doing?” King asks hurriedly. “What’s all this?”

“Kingsly!” exclaims the twins with huge grins on their faces.

“Dude…how the hell are you?” asks Kris, who answers King’s question with a question.

“I’ll tell you guys,” replies King, who is obviously annoyed with the duo. “Honestly, I’m not doing great. Want to know why?”

“That’s no good Kingsly,” responds Kross as he glances at his brother Kris. “How can you not be great bra, this is SO gonna be a great night! What’s up?”

“You know,” King replies, “it would be a great night except that I have an opening match set to start in about five minutes, and 2 of my four participants are still in street clothes! What the hell are you two doing?”

“Oh,” Kris answers, “we’re SO getting ready for our victory party!”

“Six kegs,” Kross chimes in, “it’s gonna be SO awesome bra!”

“Dude,” interrupts Kris, “I just got a great idea! Kingsly should come!”

“Dude, that would SO rock the party! Kingsly, you gonna come to our victory party?”

“Victory party?” King asks rhetorically as he rubs his temples in agony. “Guys…you haven’t even wrestled the match yet!!”

Kris looks at Kross, while Kross looks at Kris, and King stands there with his hand on his head, completely agast at these two slackers. After a minute of silence, Kris and Kross drop the keg they’d been holding and burst into severe laughter.

“Hahahahaha…he’s kidding right?” asks Kris.

“That’s hilarious Kingsly…hahahahaha…damn bra, that’s the funniest thing I heard all day,” laughs Kross, and the two hold their sides and continue to laugh their asses off.

“Guys.”

“Hahahahaha!”

“Guys.”

“Hahahahaha!”

“Guys!!”

“Oh,” says Kross as he wipes a tear from his eye.

“I’m serious guys,” King says seriously, “you need to get real serious, real fast. Not only have you not won your match yet, but you’ve never even wrestled before.”

“Kingsly!” exclaims a surprised Kris. “Come on…you know there’s no question about this match. Those two guys…what are their names…uhhh…Foog and Janice?…yeah…they really should just give up now…cause we’re SO gonna kick their asses!”

“Yeah we are,” enters Kross. “We are SO gonna kick their asses.”

“That’s because I’m gonna hit the…what’s it called?” asks Kris.

“Walk Off,” replies Kross.

“Right,” says Kris thanking his brother. “I’m SO gonna hit the Walk Off on Janice, and then he’s gonna be SO dead.”

“That’s cause you the man,” compliments Kross.

“No, you the man,” retorts Kris.

“No, YOU the man.”

“GUYS!” interrupts King. “I don’t care what moves you practiced this week. Your match starts in like two minutes…you need to get into your clothes and get out there.”

“Oh,” nods Kris. “Right.”

The twins give each other a high five, and break down the hall…

“GUYS!” King calls.

Kris and Kross stop and turn back to King, who waves the boys back to him. Once there, King brings out two sheets of paper and two pens and hands them to Kris and Kross.

“Sign these release forms,” King orders.

The boys sign without hesitation, each one grinning the entire time. Once complete, they hand the pens and papers back to King, who breathes thankfully. The twins look at each other, and then go back to the high-fives, and then break off into a run down the hall.

“Oh,” King calls after them, “and get serious out there guys, or you’re gonna get hurt. And don’t use the Walk Off. Mark Stevens will kill you.”

“Dude,” Kross calls back, “don’t worry Kingsly. We are SO gonna kick their asses. Hey, can you put that in our locker room?”

Down the hall, King simply shakes his head at the twins from Las Vegas, and on the other end, Kris says to Kross, “Dude…that’s the only move we practiced.”

Kris and Kross’s conversation fades out of earshot and King stands looking at the keg at his feet, wondering if he should just leave it there or take it to the Déjà Vu locker room. As Storm fades to commercial, King shakes it off and starts down the hall, wondering why he even considered doing anything those two slackers asked him to do.

March 22, 2003

The cameras open up on SWF Storm as the fans' cheering nearly blows the arena's roof off. It pans around the crowd, finding signs such as "Bow Down To Superiority!" and "JOHNNY DANGEROUS~!". As we pan around the arena, we come upon other random signs, such as "Watch Me Exploooode!" in honour of the new SWF Champion, and by far the best sign of the evening... "Mag Seven = Your Gods."

"Hellllllloo everyone, and welcome to SWF Storm!" booms the voice of "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens. "I'm Mark Stevens, alongside everyone's favourite..."

"....announcer, Bobby Riley!" Riley chips in, although it looked like Stevens was about to say something else starting with 'h' instead of 'announcer'. Unpertubed, the Carnie-loving announcer resumes speaking.

"We have an.....interesting...first match tonight! An unlikely pair of kids wanting a shot at the big time interrupted the commissioner during From the Fire, and it seems they got a contract!"

Riley giggles with glee. "But they're going up against the Magnificent Seven! Fugue and their newest member, the giant who nearly broke Mike's neck!"

Before either commentator can continue, the rock remix of "Awnaw" by Nappy Roots comes on, and instantly searchlights pan the audience. The camera pulls out, trying to find either of the newest recruits of the SWF, and finally spots one of them pushing through the crowd. Whether it's Kris or Kross, no one knows. As he jumps the railing and climbs into the ring, an identical figure jumps over the railing on the opposite side of the arena. When both of them finally get into the ring, one of them - probably Kris - points at his brother and claps his hands, as if saying "He's the man". The other twin shakes his head and points at the first twin, clapping and mock-cheering as if to say "No, you're the man!". Finally, both twins mount the turnbuckles and show off their 'thick as thieves' finger crossing to the crowd, who remain unsure of what the twosome are capable of as Funyon lifts his microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen....the following contest is a TAG TEAM match! Introducing first, the newest tag team of the SWF, coming from Las Vegas Nevada, and weighing in at a combined weight of four hundred and thirteen pounds!! They are Kris and Kross...Deeeeyyyyyjaaaaaaaa Vuuuuuuuu!"

The ring announcer lowers his microphone again and the camera pans back to the announce table and the quizzical-seeming commentators.

"I don't think the crowd knows what to make of these two," Stevens comments.

"Well, you could make a hat, or an airplane..." Riley says.

Kris and Kross finally settle down and look up at the top of the ramp. Everyone follows their gaze as a familiar song comes over the speakers...

"HEEEEEERE WE ARE!

BORN TO BE KINGS!

WE'RE THE PRINCES OF THE UN-I-VERSSSSSE!"

The lights in the arena vanish, only to be replaced by dim red flashes. As the strident chords echo through the arena, dark red images of Magnificent Seven members and glaring white M7 slogans flash from the SmarkTron. A slight figure clad in a long coat steps out onto the ramp, scraggly hair shadowing his face. Then a giant steps out behind him, framing his smaller partner with his bulk. The lights return to normal, revealing the wiry Fugue and the huge Janus standing on the ramp. A wave of boos rises from the audience as Funyon once more lifts his microphone to make the announcement.

"And their opponents....hailing from Philadelphia, PA and Sydney Australia respectively! At a combined weight of FIVE HUNDRED and ONE pounds...they are members of the Magnificent Seven....FUUUUGUE AND JAAAAAAAAAANUS!"

"And the two Magnificent Seven members are here!" Stevens says.

"And, WOW do they look good tonight!" Riley salivates.

The smaller figure raises a microphone to his mouth. "Cut the music, please." Fugue grins as the M7 theme dies down, eyes gleaming as he looks at the ring.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Mark Stevens mutters.

"Kris and Kross!" Fugue calls, eyes gleaming. "I would like to welcome you to the SWF!" The musician begins to pace, Janus folding his arms impassively behind him. "I don't know if you know this, but I consider myself something of a teacher!" Kris and Kross, standing in the ring, look at each other and exchange a few words. "And I hear you two... ah... beginners, want to learn about wrestling!" Fugue nods to Janus, and the two begin the long walk down the ramp between the rows of jeering fans. "Well, today is your lucky day! Because you're about to learn from the BEST!"

"That's right!" pipes up Bobby Riley. "Nobody's better than the Magnificent Seven!"

"Uh, right," Stevens replies. "That may be debatable, but Kris and Kross are definitely going to get a fast education!"

Kris and Kross confer with each other in the ring as Fugue slips under the bottom rope, still holding the microphone. One of the twins comes forward, the other gets onto the apron to stand ready for the tag.

"It looks like the twins have decided who's going to start out this matchup," Stevens says. "One of them, though we can't really tell which..."

"Kris," says Riley.

Stevens blinks and stares at him. "Are you sure, Riley?"

"Oh, of course... maybe."

The twin in the ring, who for sake of argument will be called Kris, bounces eagerly on his heels. Fugue approaches him with a smile, Janus climbing onto the apron by the turnbuckle. The musician raises the microphone again. "And the first lesson is," he says, and SMASHES the microphone against Kris' face! The twin goes down hard and Fugue throws the microphone at his brother, Kross ducking quickly to avoid it. The referee, Eddy Long, frantically calls for the bell.

DINGINGING!

Janus, on the apron, cracks a smile.

"And Fugue starts things off in true M7 fashion!" Mark Stevens says, Riley laughing hysterically beside him.

As Kris tries to get to his feet, Fugue grabs him in a headlock and pulls him up. Kross starts in surprise, and quickly thumbs through his hintbook. "Push him, bra!" he calls. "C'mon, you remember!"

"That's it, you can do it, boy!" Fugue exclaims as he cinches in the hold.

"Is Fugue giving Kris advice?" Stevens asks, bewildered.

"Well... yeah! He's just generous like that, always trying to help out!" Riley says.

Kris struggles in the headlock, then gathers himself together and shoves Fugue away. Fugue runs the ropes and charges back, leaping forward and spinning through the air to slam his shoulder against Kris' chest! The twin goes down again, and Fugue presses down into a cover. "Kick out, bra!" Kross yells, but Eddy Long is ready to count--

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!... Fugue pulls Kris' shoulder up!

"Fugue almost had the match won, but he decided to let Kris up!" Stevens says.

"Aw, that Fugue, what a guy!" adds Riley. "Of course... it wouldn't be as fun if it was over too quickly!"

"You mean Fugue is concerned about our fans getting their money's worth?" Stevens asks.

"Uh... fans. Yeah..."

Fugue reaches down and hauls Kris up by an arm, but the twin pulls away from the grip. The musician grins at him, and the dazed Kris stumbles back to his corner, tagging in the fresh Kross (we think). Kross steps in with a cocky smile. Fugue considers him for a moment... then flops down onto his hands and knees.

"... Is Fugue taking an amateur wrestling position?" Stevens asks. "It looks like he is!" Fugue beckons insistently to Kross, and the twin hesitantly approaches.

"Uh," Riley says. "Does Déjà Vu HAVE any amateur wrestling experience?"

Kross surveys his opponent... then quickly puts his legs around Fugue's head! He reaches down for Fugue's arms--but the musician slips out of the grip, grabbing one of Kross' legs and yanking him down to the mat!

"Kross was... going for a Walk-Off?!?" Stevens says, eyes bulging. Riley dissolves into laughter again.

Fugue wraps his own legs around one of Kross', grabbing the foot and stretching the leg in the wrong direction. Kross immediately lets out a yelp of pain and scrabbles for purchase on the mat. Kris, on the apron, quickly riffles through the book and runs around the outside of his ring close to his brother. "Go for the rope, bra!" he yells. "The rope, come on!" Janus, scowling, steps over the top rope and stalks across the ring--but Eddy Long immediately gets in his face! Janus glowers, but Eddy Long doesn't budge. Rolling his eyes in frustration, Janus steps out of the ring again--as Kris reaches in to grab Kross' hand and pull him toward the rope! When the referee turns back, Kross is hanging desperately onto the bottom rope, and Eddy Long admonishes Fugue to break the hold. He begins a count but Fugue releases Kross' leg and rolls away, grinning.

"Fugue countered the, uh, 'Walk-Off' with a dragon screw legwhip," Mark Stevens narrates, still sounding bewildered. "And followed it up with a punishing reverse crucifix kneebar!"

"Oh, man, the Walk-Off," Riley says, wiping his eyes and giggling. "That's gonna have me laughing all week!"

Fugue gets up, and Kross pulls himself up by the ropes. The twin turns and gazes at his opponent... a cunning expression coming over his face. Fugue approaches, but quick as a wink Kross leaps up and SLAMS his feet into the musician's face! Emboldened by a slight cheer from the fans, Kross slips sneakily behind his opponent and...

...LOCKS ON A SLEEPER HOLD!

"... Oh, no!" Mark Stevens says, trying to sound sincere.

Fugue flails a little, then reaches up to grab his opponent around the head. Suddenly the musician throws his legs up, dropping straight down and yanking Kross' head down to SMACK against his shoulder!

"OUCH!" Stevens says, quite sincerely. Bobby Riley snickers.

Fugue makes a small motion to Janus, who begins to walk along the apron. Fugue grabs the dazed Kross' arm and hauls him across the ring. The twin comes alive as he bounces off the ropes, throwing out his arm for a clothesline!... but Fugue ducks and Kross runs onward--slamming headlong into Janus and rebounding onto the mat!

Eddy Long takes the opportunity to yell at Janus. The giant raises his hands and calmly walks back to his corner.

"Fugue and Janus pull one over on Kross!" Stevens says.

"Hey, Janus was just STANDING there!" Riley objects. "I mean, cut him some slack here!"

"But he's not supposed to be in the ring, Riley!"

After ensuring Janus has resumed his spot on the apron, Eddy Long turns back to the action to see Fugue lift Kross off the mat, and Kris calling on the apron, "Hit him, brah! Come on!". Struggling, Kross tries to kick Fugue in the stomach, and the wily musician catches it....and Kross throws himself into the air with a sloppy looking enzugiri that nails Fugue in the back of the head! The musician staggers, and Kross takes advantage by......tickling him? With that ever present maniacal grin on his face, Fugue blinks and squirms about with laughter. But it's not happy laughter, it's more a mix of bemused and deranged, as Kross applies the dreaded 'submission' hold! But not for long, as the twin relents and lets Fugue stagger...

...and Kross plants Fugue with a thunderous SCOOP SLAM! The submission musician flops on his back as Kross drops down for the cover - but before Long can even make a one count Fugue thrusts his arm into the air!

"....Kross trying to get the pin after a....painful.....scoop slam on Fugue!" Stevens calls, still looking slightly bewildered at....how the twins are acting in the ring. Riley just giggles and doesn't comment.

Fugue climbs to his feet and Kross looks on in surprise, before bouncing off the ropes and trying to nail a leg tackle! Fugue hits canvas again, but rolls with the tackle, ending up mounted on top of Kross and locking on a fujiwara armbar! Kross screams like a girl, but before his waving arm can hit canvas, Fugue easily releases the submission and stands up, still with a wide grin on his face as he watches Kross massage his arm and whimper. Leaning down, the submission musician slaps Kross lightly across the face and murmurs "Enjoying your lesson?" before dragging the twin to his feet and irish whipping him straight into his own corner, where Kris looks on nervously.

The Magnificent Seven superstar in the ring rubs his chin for a moment, then turns around and looks at Janus, as if contemplating, and starts to walk over to the giant with a hand raised to tag. Eddy Long watches, and doesn't see Kris nearly freak out and climb into the ring, running across and wrapping his arms around Fugue's head in a sleeperhold!

Riley shrieks at this blatant - to him anyway - cheating. "Hey! Kris isn't the legal man! Kross is!"

Stevens cocks an eyebrow at his announcing partner. "You know which is which?"

"Uh..."

Eddy Long looks between the twin climbing onto the apron and the twin in the ring, then decides not to give himself a headache and shrugs, as Kris wrenches back on the dreaded sleeper hold! Despite the blood being cut off to his brain, Fugue just smiles at this, and sits out, cracking Kris' jaw on his skull! The rich pretty boy grabs his mouth and stumbles, as Fugue rubs his skull and gets back up, seemingly amused. He steps towards Kris, who still looks like he could've had his jaw dislocated - damn untrained prettyboys - who twists sideways and drills Fugue with a superkick! Again the musician stumbles back, this time holding HIS jaw as Kris cheers himself on with assistance from his brother on the apron. Feeling the confidence, he grabs Fugue by the arm and whips him into the corner - and Janus lifts his hands so he doesn't get the tag!

"Janus choosing not to tag in at this time! Although Fugue doesn't look like he needs help that much!" Stevens ponders the giant's actions as Riley giggles again.

"Of course not, they're Magnificent Seven, Grand Spam!"

Sprawled in the corner, Fugue leans there as Kris almost skips over to his corner, crouching and seeing Fugue in position. His brother reaches over, but doesn't pat him on the shoulder, yelling loudly in his ear for him to go for it. The twins look at each other, yelling "Yeah?" "Yeah!" "YEAAAAAH!" at each other, each psyching the other up some more, and then Kris waves to the crowd, screams "I'M DA MAN!" at his brother, and charges across the ring with a grin on his face and his shoulder lowered....

...and Fugue pops out of the corner and takes Kris to the canvas with a droptoe hold, beaning him senseless against the turnbuckle! Kris flops to the ground, holding his face in pain as the submission musician drags him out of the corner and lays him on the ground, as if wondering. Almost oblivious to his surrounds, Kris rubs his face, allowing Fugue to hook his legs and begin setting up the Contrapuntal! Pausing with the indian deathlock almost in place, the musician tilts his head in thought - and drops Kris' legs, motioning for him to get back up.

Not wary, simply excited that he's lasting so long against one of the best in the business - at least in his mind - Kris climbs back to his feet. The twin is grinning almost like Fugue - but more in an excited way then a psychotic way. The musician holds out his hand as if to shake with Kris, who grabs it, and being the cunning evil bastard he is, the twin tries to whip Fugue into the ropes - then pulls him back and drills him with a knee to the stomach!

"Kitchen Sink by....dammit, which one is it, Riley?" Stevens squints at the ring, then looks at his announcing partner.

"Mmm....it's Kris. I know my men, Stevens."

The baseball-loving announcer shivered slightly. "I bet you do, Riley."

Stumbling slightly, Fugue wheezes and catches his breath as Kris runs to the ropes and comes back, hitting the Submission Musician with a well-aimed crossbody! Instead of pinning however, Kris is distracted by something, the yells of his twin.

"Tag me in, brah! TAG ME!"

Kris looks at his twin, and down at Fugue, and then runs over to the ropes and holds up his hand - and tags in Kross! However, when Kross gets in the ring - Kris stays too, and the twins grin at each other and slap high-fives, as Eddy Long tries to figure out which of them is the actual legal man. While the poor referee is confused, both the twins begin 'stalking' Fugue, grinning to each other as Janus stands stoically on the apron. In fact, so stoically, Kris doesn't notice when he strays too close to the Mag-Seven corner...

...but he sure remembers when he stalks right into the ropes and bumps the giant's impassive frame! Janus glares down at Kris, who backs away with a 'be cool, brah' look on his face, as Kross starts to pick Fugue up.

"Hey, brah!" Kross shouts. "Let's get this guy with something big, eh!"

Kris grins and waves his hands in the air. "I'll go for the neck, brah!"

At the announce table, Riley trembles in suppressed rage. "Dammit, Long, get one of them out of the ring! This is blatantly unfair cheating!"

Stevens cocks his head to the side. "They've been cheating more than the Magnificent Seven has, come to think of it..."

Standing side by side, Kris and Kross each grab one of Fugue's arms and whip him to the ropes. One of the twins, most likely Kross given their earlier discussion, whips his compatriot into the side ropes, and when Fugue comes back, he's lifted up into a spinebuster position....and the second twin flies into the air and hits a neckbreaker as Kross throws Fugue down with a spinebuster! The musician bounces on the ground and clutches the back of his head, still smiling up at the twins. Finally ushering...Kris...out of the ring, Eddy Long turns around to see Kross with a pin on Fugue!

ONE!

TWO!

THRE...

And Fugue kicks out, and Kross sits up with a plaintive 'aw, man' look on his face and looks at Long as if to say 'it was three, right?'. Unfortunately for him, Long shakes his head, and Kross gets up and shakes his head, then Kris waves on the apron, pointing to the top rope. Looking up, Kross gets a cheesy looking grin on his face, and dashes to the turnbuckle, scaling it quickly - and almost slipping off.

"What's he up to? Some sort of high flying move?" Stevens speculates.

"He's gonna foul it up, I just know it!" Riley chortles with glee as Kross perches on the rope, and then flings his body into the air, tucking his body in like a frog splash, but keeping his hands together....

....and he misses as Fugue rolls aside! The submission musician sits up with a wince and rubs his goatee in thought, then calls out to Kriss and Kross..

"Playtime is over, boys!"

And Fugue rolls over towards the turnbuckle, rising to his feet and extending his hand.....

*SLAP!*

"TAG!" Long shouts.

Out on the apron, Kris' jaw drops as Fugue slips out of the ring, and the seven foot behemoth that is Janus steps over the top rope, staring down at Kross impassively. Rolling onto his back and clutching his hands and chest, Kross stares up at the lights...which are blacked out as Janus practically wraps his hands around the twin's skull and drags him to his feet! Letting go once Kross is up, the giant looks towards the other twin on the apron, and lifts an arm, motioning slowly.

Stevens is blinking in surprise again "What the..."

Riley giggles maniacally. "He's asking Kris into the ring! He wants to take on both twins at once!"

Staring towards Kris as the twin nervously starts to get in the ring, ignoring Long's protest, Janus steps by Kross..and the twin on the ground trips the giant up with a drop-toe hold! Falling like a tree, Janus crashes into the canvas, and the twins pounce on him almost frantically, kicking the giant every which way they can. Long again tries to restore order, dragging the twin known as Kross away, telling him to get on the apron. Kross disputes this, saying he's the legal man and his twin isn't - but when Long confronts Kris, he says exactly the same thing!

Meanwhile, Fugue watches intently on the apron as the kicks subside, and Janus starts climbing up with a slight grimace, as if the kicks had been little more than annoyances to someone of his mass. Long tries to wave the giant off while he figures out which twin is which, but the giant tells Long with a single Stare to get out of the way or else. Both of the twins lunge at Janus, driving double chops into his chest...

...that the giant just ignores, before flattening both twins with a monsterous double lariat! Kris and Kross hit the apron with stereo thuds, grimacing in pain and rolling on the mat as Janus just stands there. The giant lifts his arms into the air and signals for another double attack, as groggily, Kris and Kross find their way back to their feet. A loud "smack!" is heard as the giant smacks his hands against their throats, locking them in position for a double chokeslam. Long pulls at one of Janus' arms, trying to make him let go so he can kick one of the twins out.

"Goooo Jaaaaanus! Crush the newbies! Woohoo!" Riley is amused by this turn of events, unlike his compatriot, who eyes the ring critically.

"He's not crushing anyone........" Stevens murmurs, and Riley looks in the ring. Trying to make Janus let go, Long misses one of the twins kicking the giant in the groin! Janus grimaces, relinquishing his hold...and before Long can push the twins away, they hook Janus' arms and strain...and finally lift the giant over with a double hiptoss, before staggering away! The referee finally corners one of the pair, and points to the apron with a shout, forcing the twin to leave the ring.

"Who'd he just push out, Riley?" questions Stevens, glancing at his associate.

With a squint, Riley nods confidently. "Kross."

"That leaves Kris alone with the rising giant!"

Janus looks like a grumbling old man with the expression on his face after being hiptossed by the twins, but before he can fully recover his vertical base, Kris grabs his arm and exerts all his physical power to whip Janus into the Magnificent Seven corner! Fugue leans over to tag, but the giant shakes his head with a slight smile, nodding towards the twins. Obviously showing some exhaustion, Kris heads over to his corner - and Kross tags in.

"I wanna do it this time, brah!", is what he shouts - and as Kris stands on the apron, Kross lifts his arms in the air and starts to hop around with a grin on his face, pointing to the corner where Janus is sprawled. The crowd starts to shout out "Don't do it!" as Janus looks awfully relaxed with the smiling Fugue nodding to him from the apron, but Kross doesn't listen as he spins around in a circle and points at his brother.

"YOU DA MAN!"

Kris shakes his head with a grin and waves, pointing at his brother.

"Nah, YOU DA MAN! GET IM! GOOOOOO!"

Complying with his brother's war cry, Kross turns to face Janus' corner and charges across the ring, beginning to lower his shoulder...

...but he instead feels three hundred and fifty pounds of shoulder-charging force as Janus launches himself out of his corner, shoulder lowered, crushing Kross's ribcage with a high-impact Gore of his own! Kross collapses to the canvas, holding his chest in pain and gasping, unbelieving of the huge impact he just had. Hooking a leg, Janus smiles over at Kris, as Long dives down!

ONE!!

TWO!!

Kris starts to come into the ring, but when Fugue does the same, the twin pauses just long enough.....

THREE!!

The bell rings, and the strains of the Magnificent Seven's anthem bursts out through the speakers as Janus rises to his feet, with Funyon's announcement

Funyon: "The winners of this contest...Janus and Fugue....THE MAAAAAGNIFICENT SEVEN!"

Fugue comes into the ring, reaching up to slap the giant on the shoulder with a grin, and Janus nods back...and both superstars hold their arms up in the air in victory, before exiting the ring - Fugue through the ropes, and Janus doing a Kane-esque backward somersault out of the ring. Both the Magnificent Seveners pause on the ramp to stare back at the ring, and Fugue laughs out loud before they disappear backstage....and Storm goes to commercial....

March 22, 2003

FADE IN

“Our next match will pit the rookie Wildchild against the returning Neilsen,” says Mark Stevens. “Bobby, both of these men came away from the PPV with big wins in singles competition, and now they’ll be going head-to-head. Your thoughts?”

“Well this match came about because Wildchild wounded the Commissioner’s pride,” says Bobby Riley. “Suicide King thought he’d just be able to send Jay Dawg after him, and that would be the end of his Wildchild problem, but he’s proven to be tougher than the King anticipated.”

“And now the King of Hearts has turned to the King of the Jungle to help him teach the rookie a lesson,” adds Stevens. “So Bobby, since you don’t really like Wildchild or Neilsen, who do you want to see win?”

“Well, in a perfect world, they’d both manage to permanently cripple each other,” replies Riley, “but since I doubt that’s going to happen, part of me wants to see Wildchild survive this match just to see what the King is going to do to him next.”

With that, the speakers in the Kemper Arena start playing “Sickness” by Disturbed. The Kansas City crowd is a mixture of cheers and boos as the Jungle King darts onto the stage and runs down to the ring, chair in hand. Upon hitting the ring, Neilsen slides underneath the bottom rope and springs back to his feet, still holding his beloved chair; he then runs over to the corner nearest the announce table and climbs onto the second turnbuckle. The boos begin to drown out the cheers as the Jungle King raises the chair above his head, his back to the camera.

“The following contest is scheduled for one fall,” says Funyon. “Currently in the ring, from Chicago, Illinois, weighing in at two hundred forty-five pounds, Neilsen of the…” Funyon pauses briefly as a sizeable number of fans shout “MOTHERFUCKIN,” and then continues with, “Jungle!” Neilsen climbs down from the turnbuckle and discards the chair as he turns to face the referee, who closely inspects his gloves.

“Referee Matthew Kivell is inspecting the Jungle King’s gloves,” notes Stevens. “I’m guessing he doesn’t want a repeat of what happened at the PPV.”

“As if it would make any real difference,” replies Riley. “I think that Kivell is pretty much powerless to stop Neilsen from doing whatever he wants, the PPV proved that; Kivell’s afraid of him!”

Neilsen’s music fades out and the crowd suddenly comes alive as Smashing Pumpkin’s “The Everlasting Gaze” begins to blast through the speakers. Wildchild bursts from behind the curtain and poses on the stage, banging his head up and down in time with the music. “His opponent,” continues Funyon, “from the Bahamas, weighing in at two hundred seventeen pounds, the Wiiiiildchiiiiild!” Wildchild races down to ringside, slapping hands with the fans as he does so.

WHACK!

As Wildchild prepares to somersault into the ring, Neilsen streaks across the ring and blasts him with a baseball slide that knocks him to the arena floor! The Jungle King braces himself against the top rope as Wildchild gets to his feet and vaults outside the ring, crushing the Bahama Bomber with a plancha! The Jungle King hammers away at Wildchild with a clenched right hand. “Neilsen with a sneak attack on the Wildchild,” yells Stevens.

CLANG!

Neilsen pulls Wildchild to his feet and whips him harshly into the steel steps at ringside. Neilsen raises his hands above his head as leers at the fans, who respond by booing him soundly, and one fan even throws a half-empty cup of beer at the Jungle King, which glances off his shoulder and spills onto the floor. “Neilsen’s got this crowd incensed,” cries Stevens. Neilsen walks around the ring to retrieve his discarded chair and raises it above his head, eliciting more boos. The Jungle King takes the chair in both hands and makes a running swing at Wildchild’s head, but the Bahama Bomber lunges desperately out of the way.

Rolling to his feet, Wildchild drives a foot into Neilsen’s vulnerable midsection, causing him to drop the chair. Jumping into the air, Wildchild plants his feet into the Jungle King’s tender gut, clasps his hands around the back of neck, and arches back, tossing him over the ring barricade. Wildchild scampers over the barricade as the Jungle King scrambles to his feet. “They’ve taken this out into the crowd,” cries Stevens as the two combatants exchange blows.

“Well, you have to believe that a wild brawl favors Neilsen,” adds Riley. Neilsen strikes out with a fierce right hand, but the elusive Wildchild ducks underneath and behind the Jungle King, snaring him in a waistlock, lifting him into the air and dropping him down onto his extended knee in an Atomic Drop. Wildchild runs past Neilsen as he clutches his lower back in pain and leaps onto the barricade, springing off and crushing the Jungle King with a cross-body block!

“Aren’t the worried about being counted out,” asks Stevens as Wildchild returns the favor by belting Neilsen with right hands of his own.

“I kind of doubt it,” replies Riley, “considering that Kivell never actually rang the bell.” Wildchild climbs on top of the barricade, preparing to launch an aerial attack. Neilsen lunges at Wildchild to knock him down, but the Bahama Bomber leaps higher into the air, causing the Jungle King’s upper body to pass underneath him, and stretches his leg out as he starts to fall, practically guillotining Neilsen on the barricade! Wildchild unleashes a howl as the crowd roars their approval.

“Wildchild’s taking the fight to the Jungle King,” shouts Stevens.

“Don’t expect that to last,” replies Riley nonchalantly. “Wildchild isn’t a physical type of wrestler; he’s not going to last long if he tries to keep this a brawl.” Wildchild grabs the chair that Neilsen dropped and slides into the ring as the Jungle King tries to regain his bearings.

CLANG!

Wildchild, chair in hand, runs to the corner across the ring from Neilsen’s position and leaps onto the top turnbuckle. He then streaks across the top rope and dives off, outside the ring and into the crowd, where he nails the Jungle King with the chair in mid-flight!

HOLY SHIT!

Mark Stevens nearly shouts himself hoarse. “What an unbelievable maneuver by the Wildchild! Andros Dive with a steel chair!” Wildchild pulls Neilsen over the barricade and drags him over to the ring, rolling him underneath the bottom rope. Referee Matthew Kivell finally orders the timekeeper to ring the bell as Wildchild climbs onto the ring apron himself and then uses the top rope to propel himself into the ring, blasting Neilsen with a slingshot Senton splash! Wildchild turns onto his stomach and crawls over to Neilsen to make a cover…

ONE!

TWO!

THRREEEEEEE—NO! Neilsen shoots the shoulder up! Wildchild whips Neilsen to the far corner, but the Jungle King reverses. Wildchild barely even breaks stride as he effortlessly leaps to the top turnbuckle and immediately does a backflip off.

SPLASH!

The wily veteran drops down to avoid Wildchild’s aerial attack, but instead of flying backwards, the Caribbean Cruiser’s Backflip sent him straight up, and he lands on the second turnbuckle and immediately flips back off, this time flying backwards with a moonsault press that smashes the unsuspecting Jungle King in the back! Wildchild rolls Neilsen onto his back and tries to make another quick cover…

ONE!

TWO!

THREEEEE—KICKOUT!

“Wildchild’s not going to take out someone as tough as the Jungle King that easily,” states Riley.

“I think that Wildchild’s just trying to make the most out of his speed advantage,” muses Stevens. “Maybe hoping to catch Neilsen napping with a quick cover.” Wildchild whips Neilsen to the ropes, and lowers his head to deliver a backdrop. Neilsen is lifted into the air as he rebounds off the ropes, but manages to snare a front facelock and rotates his body as he reaches the apex of the lift, twisting Wildchild around and driving him face-first into the mat with a scintillating Tornado DDT!

“Wildchild put his head down, and paid for it,” says Riley as Neilsen rolls onto his back, trying to catch his breath. “Typical rookie mistake!”

“And nice ring awareness by Neilsen,” adds Stevens. “Not too much ring rust on him, eh? Neilsen whips Wildchild into the ropes and leaps into the air as he rebounds, snaring his legs around the tropical tumbler’s neck and taking him over with a hurricanrana. The Jungle King walks over to the ropes to celebrate his maneuver as the crowd boos him lustily. Satisfied with the results of his agitation of the crowd, Neilsen turns around in time to see Wildchild getting to his knees, so he knocks him back down with a running boot to the head.

“Neilsen’s taken command of this match,” remarks Riley. “Now we’ll see what Wildchild’s really made of against someone as brutal as he is.” Neilsen reaches down into his elbow pad and pulls out something resembling a lanyard, not even attempting to hide it from the referee.

“What’s that the Jungle King just pulled out of his elbow pad,” shrieks Stevens.

The Jungle King steps around behind Wildchild and pulls him up to his feet by his hair. He leans in close to the Bahama Bomber and whispers into his ear, “y’know, the Suicide King promised me a title shot to take you out, but I’m gonna do this just for kicks!” with that, he wraps the lanyard around Wildchild’s throat and leads him to the ropes, tossing him over the top! Wildchild dangles desperately outside the ring and Neilsen holds on to the lanyard with both hands as he strangles the helpless rookie. “He’s hanging him,” cries Stevens. “Do something, ref!”

Matthew Kivell shouts at Neilsen, ordering him to release Wildchild, but the Jungle King only cackles with glee.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

FIVE!

“Let him go now, or your disqualified,” bellows Kivell, but Neilsen responds by kicking him away. Kivell rolls onto his knees and shouts at the timekeeper, “that’s it! Ring the bell!”

DING! DING! DING!

The bell rings, but Neilson doesn’t even give pause, as he continues to strangle Wildchild over the top rope. As Kivell tries to get the Jungle King to break his death grip, Funyon pronounces, “the winner of the match, as a result of a disqualification, the Wildchild!” The timekeeper rings the bell several times in succession, but Neilsen continues to choke the helpless rookie. “Somebody get out here and stop this,” pleads Stevens. A cadre of referees run from the back to help free Wildchild, but the Jungle King only pulls all the more harder, until Wildchild stops kicking. The timekeeper again rings the bell frantically, and finally, only after the Caribbean Cruiser dangles lifelessly over the top rope does the Jungle King release his hold. Wildchild slumps to the floor and Neilsen raises his arms above his head, posing in celebration as boos thunder throughout the Kemper Arena and the fans shower the Jungle King with debris.

“God, I hope this kid is alright,” groans Stevens as EMTs rush to ringside to tend to Wildchild. “We can only hope that he’ll be okay after this… Well, coming up next is the other half of Wild and Dangerous, taking on the man that Wildchild defeated at the PPV. Johnny Dangerous and Jay Dawg. And it’s NEXT!”

As we:

FADE OUT

March 22, 2003

As we return from commercial, the SmarkTron flashes backstage into the personal space of some of wrestling’s greatest stars. This time, we come to visit none other than the “The Velvet Hammer” Frost. Simply seeing this mammoth superstar is enough for the Kemper Arena crowd to break into a cheer for a moment before they die down once again to a near hush. The Mighty Icelander sits by himself in front of his locker while he looks into the shiny metallic surface of his ICTV championship belt. But Frost is not exuding the usual air of confidence that he habitually projects tonight. In fact, he seems almost thoughtful as his eyes glimmer at the sight of his own reflection in the belt he had lost just five days ago. But those thoughts are interrupted immediately by the presence of another set of eyes being brought to the belt. Walking up with his own title belt over his shoulder comes the arrogant upstart, Ejiro Fasaki, who is closely followed by his tag team partner, Judge Hearford. At the sight of these two, the Missouri crowd immediately boos away as they start to make conversation with one of the men they beat to take the Tag Titles.

“Hey Frost,” begins The Judge as he plops down next to his stable mate on an adjoining chair.

“What do you two want?” asks Frost in a tone that implies without a doubt that he would rather be left alone right now.

Fasaki answers from his feet, “Hey slow down there chief. We just came by to see how you were doing man. I mean, look at you. You just don’t seem your normal jolly self. And lets be honest, you didn’t exactly set the world on fire last Sunday if you get my meaning.”

“Yeah,” inserts Hearford, “It’s not every pay per view that you go 0 and 2, Frost. I can’t imagine how embarrassing that must be to get beaten twice in a row on the same night. But hey, you still have at least one of your belts right?”

Ejiro follows “And sure… you had to have it handed back to you and all after taking the fall to some old timer who didn’t even want the thing. But we’re not shy in the Magnificent 7 are we Frost? We do so love our belts and our titles. I know Justice and Rule… we love ours.”

“You aren’t kidding,” Judge agrees, “Hell, Frost if Neilsen hadn’t given you belt back all of the Magnificent 7’s gold, not held by Justice and Rule of course, would be gone. And we can’t have that now can we?”

“Can’t be the best in wrestling with no belts, I always say.”

“I concur.”

Frost finally rises up between both of the tag team champions with a tired look in his eyes. Back and forth his eyes go between both men, but finally Frost decides to instead brush past both of these two men and leave the room.

“What was that?” asks The Judge.

“Beats me… Depression maybe,” shrugs Ejiro.

“Good.”

March 22, 2003

As the Smarktron comes to life, the lights in the arena begin to darken out...and the crowd, confused, has nothing to react to.

“What’s this, Riley? This isn’t in our line-up...”

“I think it might be impromptu, Mark. That’s when something happens that’s not planned. Like, you sucking. It’s not planned, you just do it.”

“Hold your tongue, boy. Keep in mind who you’re talking to.”

And as the lights cease to be in use, a promotional video begins to roll over the Smarktron.

[...the definition of a legend is...something so celebrated as to have taken on the nature of a legend...]

[...celebrated...]

[...celebrated at our best, desecrated at our worst...]

[...that is what we were...]

[...that is what we are...]

“What is this, Riley? Any word from the back?”

“No word yet, let’s see where this is going.”

[...in times of need, there is always a hero...or a group of heroes...that will step up to defend the people...]

[...to set things right...]

[...to destroy the evil corporations...]

[...conglomerates...]

[...collections...]

[...seven hold together with an unholy union of destruction...what can we do about it?...]

[...we can take back what is ours.]

And as the final words linger on the screen, the fiery emblem of a bird is etched into the screen.

“Riley, is that...?!”

“I...I think it is...”

Underneath the fiery bird, one final sentence is written upon the screen.

[...The Phoenix Uprising: v3.0...coming soon.]

“Good God! Do you know what this means, Riley?!”

“It means one of two things. Either M7 will have more goody goody happy guys to beat the hell out of...”

“...or?”

“...or they’re in big trouble...”

And with that, we cut to commercial.

March 22, 2003

We return to the SWF arena where the Kansas City crowd is still going strong, applauding loudly especially since they are back on television. The crowd is filled with multiple signs, such as "TNT sucks Tom's dick!" and "Mag is still god!" The house lights dim as a females voice says “Johnny Dangerous!” and the fans respond with a respectful round of cheers!

Stevens: "We are back here at SWF Storm! It looks like Johnny Dangerous is coming down, and he can't be in a good mood!"

Riley: "What are you talking about? He has his SWF career back... oh... you're talking about his cage dive, right?"

Stevens: "Dive? Jay Dawg through him off of it!"

Riley: "Heh... you're right. That was funny."

Stevens: "You know what else was funny? When Neilsen hit you with that chair!"

Riley: "Shut up!"

The theme from “Mission Impossible 2” by Limp Bizkit rocks out from the massive wall-to-wall sound system as colourful arrays of lights begins circling over the arena. On the screen various clips of Johnny Dangerous performing many spy like actions (Like leaping from a 50 story building window to catch a dangling ladder from a helicopter, etc.) mixed with clips of Johnny’s in ring fights are displayed. Johnny strides from backstage, confidently walking through the curtains and makes his way to the ring, looking like he doesn't have a care in the world.

Funyon: "The following contest is a No DQ match! Introducing first... he hails from Las Vegas, Nevada! He stands at Six feet One inch and weighs in at 210 pounds! He is Johnny "The Barracuda" Dangerous!"

Dangerous begins taking the time to wink at a few ladies, even blowing a kiss towards a generally attractive brunette in the front row before hopping foot into the ring. Johnny rushes to the second turnbuckle in the corner with the announce table to his left. He holds his arms up strong, clearly whoring himself to the crowd as they cheer in approval.

Stevens: "A good response for Johnny Dangerous!"

Riley: "You know... he should have laid down from that cage beatdown... because now he is fighting Jay Dawg in his own backyard!"

Stevens: "Jamie Drazon's no disqualification history is pretty well known throughout the fed.

The lights go out and Dangerous hops off the turnbuckles....

BOOM

A powerful explosion from each corner lights up the ring, Dangerous shields his eyes as he takes a look around for Jamie Drazon. Multiple fireworks begin to explode, not quite as powerful as the ones from the corner, exploding around the arena, rafters and entrance ramp.

"THIS

IS

MAH

HOUSE!!"

The pre-recorded voice of Jamie Drazon echoes through the arena. Rammstein's 'Du Haste' hits the speakers shortly after, the music again plays without the lyrics, allowing the heavy beats thunder 360 degrees all over the arena, seeping into the minds of the Kansas city fans. Jamie Drazon steps through the curtains, his head down. His wrists are taped up, while the belt holding up his pants shine brightly in the crowd. He walks to the top of the ramp, slowly raising his head. He glares at his opponent for this evening, Johnny Dangerous decked in his traditional tuxedo, just like he's auditioning for the next role as James Bond. Drazon lowers his head again, although the glare of anger is replaced with a smile that lacks good intentions.

Funyon: "His opponent! He hails from Vancouver, British Columbia! He stands at Six feet Three inches and weighs in at 243 pounds! He is Jamie 'Jay Dawg' Drazon!"

Jay Dawg pauses at ringside, scanning to his left, then his right as the crowd shows their disapproval for the league proclaimed King of Hardcore. JD lets his eyelids open a tiny bit, staring straight at the man who cost him his PPV return match. The crowd begins to get pumped as Jay Dawg slides into the ring. He raises his arms, not having to take anything off as he is clearly ready to go. Dangerous never lets Drazon out of his sight, as he stretches out by the ropes. He removes his bowtie, tossing it out to the crowd, causing a scramble in behind the announce table.

Riley: "Hey get lost! It's not like Flesher through it."

Stevens: "I think Flesher left a piece of his gum on your monitor there..."

Riley: "WHERE!!? "

Stevens resists smacking Riley in the back of the head as the referee calls for the bell. Despite the emotion building inside him, wanting to rip Jay Dawg's throat out and shove it up his ass, Johnny Dangerous remains in his position. Drazon lets a smile slip, grinning, as he knows his revenge at the pay per view wasn't nearly enough. He walks to the center of the ring with an aggressive but purposeful stride. Dangerous cockily walks forward, looking straight at Jay Dawg, upon being face to face with his adversary, Dangerous also lets out a smile. Johnny suddenly rocks JD back a step with an open right hand. The crowd roars out that Dangerous got the first shot in. JD rubs his jaw for a half sec and swings back at Dangerous, blocked by Dangerous and he connects with another open right. JD backs another step, to which Dangerous socks him again, two more punches and Jay Dawg is resting on the ropes only to be Irish whipped off the ropes. JD bounces hard off the ropes, returning with authority he ducks an attempt of a clothesline, bounce back, and Jay Dawg thrusts his right leg out...

SMACK

Connecting hard with a big boot to the face of Johnny Dangerous! The blow knocks Dangerous head back, forcing it to unwillingly bob before he stumbles to the ropes. Jay Dawg pulls his arms up, forcing his hands into the shape of a gun, and fires it off towards Dangerous that gets a heatfilled set of boos in his general direction. Jay Dawg makes a rush for him, propelling his arm out with a clothesline, but Dangerous ducks low and back body drops Jay Dawg... no... Jay Dawg grabs onto the top rope and gently lowers himself to the ring. Dangerous pops him with a right hand, which knocks JD into the ropes. Dangerous swings his fist after spinning in reverse a full 360, connecting with a spinning backfist which knocks JD onto the top rope but he stays inside! Dangerous takes a step back and swings his foot out, connecting his heel square in the jaw of Jay Dawg! The blast knocks Drazon over the top rope and to the outside much to the amusement of the fans! Jay Dawg lands on his feet on the outside and stumbles backward, Dangerous grabs the top rope and slingshots over top, somersaulting in the air and driving his back into the chest of Jay Dawg!

Stevens: "Johnny Dangerous is here to take the fight to Jay Dawg!"

Riley: "That was a stupid stupid move! He just took a dive off a cage, now he's using his back as a weapon. What type of idiot is he!?"

Johnny gets up from the ground, Jay Dawg laid out briefly, he clutches his back as he exhales in pain. Dangerous shakes off the pain, pulling out a flashy smile as he directs at some of the key ladies around the ringside. They begin to cheer for young Dangerous, as he starts to stomp down on his hardcore adversary. JD tries to block the kicks, as they begin to tenderize his diaphragm. Jay Dawg starts to stand, stopping the stomps, but Dangerous grabs him by the back of his pants and neck and throws him towards the steps!

CLANG

The impact knocks the top steps off, sending them into the guardrail. Jay Dawg rests his body on the bottom steps as he holds the agonizing pain to only be shown by his facial expressions. Dangerous stomps him in the chest, looking down with a slightly more crazed expression, as he guarantees Jay Dawg will feel some hurt. Dangerous drops an elbow onto Jay Dawg's chest, the steps vibrating with the impact.

Stevens: "This battle has been taken outside... I'd like to remind people, that while anything goes, pinfalls and submissions can only happen in the ring!"

Dangerous gets off of the steps and walks to the loosened top set of steps that he left lying. Dangerous picks them up and lifts them high above his head. He holds them above his head and the head of Jay Dawg's. The crowd cheers as they hope he will crush the brains of Jay Dawg onto the steel. All of a sudden, Jay Dawg's leg kicks up, booting the steel steps into the face of Johnny Dangerous! Jay Dawg spins his back like it's wheel of fortune, and kicks his foot forward, booting it into the steel, which goes into the face of Johnny Dangerous! Jay Dawg bursts out off of the steps, and smashes his shin into the ribs of Dangerous! Dangerous drops the steps, barely missing Jay Dawg's foot and smashes his face into the steel steps! Jay Dawg grabs him by the back of the head and smashes it into the steel steps...

CLANG

JD does it twice, before grabbing Dangerous head by both hands, lifts up before...

CLANG

Slamming it down for the third and final time! The audience begins to roar out their disapproval as Jay Dawg begins to pick on the SWF's secret agent.

"You want pain!? I'll give you pain!"

Jay Dawg grabs the back of Dangerous head, and slams his knee into the forehead! Jay Dawg then immediately slams the head back into the steel!

CLANG

The final blow makes even the audience cheer as Jay Dawg continues to smash Johnny Dangerous. The repeated sound of Johnny’s cranium smashing the steel begins to echo in the ears of many. Drazon takes him off the loose set of steps, letting him lie on the ones still with the corner. JD grabs the steel steps and with a heave, throws them into the ring.

Riley: “Heh heh heh! Dangerous is going to get his ass kicked!”

The steps rumble from impact, which can be heard by the crowd. Jay Dawg turns to the laid out Johnny Dangerous pulls him off the steps, only to receive a punch to the ribs. JD doubles over, and his wrist is grabbed by Dangerous. The Barracuda shifts his weight and pulls Jay Dawg towards the steps, Drazon steps onto the steps, avoiding the trip…

CLANG!!

Only to smash into the ringpole! Jay Dawg staggers off the pole for a second, then timbers off the steps and onto the outside mat. Dangerous hops onto the ring apron, taking a look down at the fallen Jay Dawg, and dashes along the apron toward him. Dangerous leaps in the air as some of the fans bust our their cameras, the flashbulbs light up as they capture Dangerous diving off the ring apron towards Jay Dawg, and drives the point of his elbow into the Dawgmeister’s chest.

Stevens: “Johnny Dangerous again takes the fight to Jay Dawg! He’s out here to prove a point!”

Riley: “Yeah! That he’s going to get fucked up beyond repair!”

Stevens: “Riley!”

Riley: “Bah… messed up beyond repair.”

Dangerous stands on his knees, putting his hands on his ribs as he breathes out deeply. Jay Dawg half sits up, clutching his chest as he also tries to catch his breath. Dangerous holds off the pain enough as he picks JD up and rolls him into the ring. He places his hands on the ring apron and takes another breath. The fans worry as they can tell Dangerous is already in pain.

Stevens: “Johnny Dangerous must be having back problems! He better be careful or else Jay Dawg will tear him apart!”

Riley: “As if that isn’t going to happen anyway!”

Dangerous rolls into the ring and limps toward a crawling Jay Dawg, who is just starting to get to his feet. Dangerous bends down and picks up his fallen opponent, applying a facelock. Johnny swings his spare arm around, but as he places his elbow over Jay Dawg’s head, the Dawgmeister cradles his leg and begins to lift for the T-Bone suplex. Dangerous is lifted halfway in the air, on direct course for the steps, but he drives his elbow into the back of Jay Dawg’s shoulder blades. JD drops to his knees, allowing Dangerous to force him up from his facelock and spin around so they are back to back. Dangerous tries to drop down with the neckbreaker but Jay Dawg latches his hands onto Johnny’s wrists. JD pries the hands apart and forces him back to the corner, rushing from the back to back set up and crushes him into the turnbuckles!

Stevens: “Some nice exchanges! These men seem to want to dominate this match, but neither are letting each hit the impact moves!”

JD completely breaks the grip as Dangerous is crushed into the turnbuckles. He turns around and wraps his arms around his waist. JD pulls back as he squats down, and then thrusts his shoulder into Johnny’s lower back! JD pulls back and thrusts forward with another shoulder to the vertebrae! JD loosens his grip, and then thrusts his knee upward into the back of Dangerous. The Barracuda cries out in pain as JD now squeezes his arms around his mid-section with the waistlock. Jay Dawg pulls back and starts to throw him overhead with a German…no; Dangerous hooks his foot in the bottom rope. Dangerous swings his elbow back, clubbing Jay Dawg in the jaw with it.

Stevens: “By the looks of Dangerous condition… Jay Dawg would have destroyed him with that suplex!”

Riley: “Yeah he saved his ass briefly!”

Dangerous swings his elbow back two more times, knocking JD back a step and breaking the waistlock. He grabs Jay Dawg by the waist, placing his shoulder under the jaw of Jay Dawg. He drops to his knee, the impact makes JD stand instantly but he is stunned on his feet from the jawbreaker. Dangerous grabs him by the wrist and throws him into the ropes; Dangerous takes a step by the steps and awaits the return of JD. Jay Dawg bounces off the cables and lunges at Dangerous, only to be sidestepped and have his legs interlocked, and smashes facefirst into the steel steps with a drop toehold!

CLANG

JD bounces off the steel, and collapses to his back with Dangerous promptly on top with the pinfall attempt.

One…

Two…

T…no, JD easily gets a shoulder up!

Stevens: “The first closefall of the match going to Johnny Dangerous!”

Riley: “What a lucky bastard!”

JD starts to sit up, and is promptly fed a fist by Johnny Dangerous. Jay Dawg is brought to his feet by Dangerous and is smacked with an open fist. Johnny cocks his fist back again, but Jay Dawg hooks his arm, twists with a wristlock, and arm wrenches Johnny Dangerous before dragging him into a front waistlock. In a swift, fluid motion, JD executes a picture perfect overhead belly-to-belly suplex. Dangerous lands harsh on the back of his neck as his body caves in, before expanding onto the mat as he lies flattened out.

Stevens: “Jay Dawg with the belly to belly! That has to be hellish at this moment!”

Dangerous starts to sit up a second, clutching his back in pain as JD stands to his feet. With Dangerous having his back turned and widely exposed, JD takes a step forward before full out soccer punting the spine! Johnny grabs at his back some more, feeling extreme spasms as his muscles begin to twitch in pain. JD drops down, and drives his knee into the back. JD hops over his head and to the feet, he grabs onto one leg and intertwines his leg into it before spinning around, applying the spinning toehold. JD torques on the hold for a second before reaching his hand out and slapping Dangerous in the face with it. Jay Dawg finally rolls forward, and slams Johnny’s back into the mat with a whiplash powerbomb.

Stevens: “Jay Dawg is going to work on the back! That whiplash powerbomb is so hard to set up, but is so effected if used properly!”

Riley: “If only JD could guide it onto that set of steps there!”

JD stands up, the toehold still applied; he rolls forward once more, the momentum forcing Dangerous to stand only to be slammed onto his back with another whiplash powerbomb! JD lets go of the toehold, and pulls up the Barracuda’s other leg, and elevates the two of them! JD flips Dangerous over and applies a Liontamer!

Stevens: “What in the world! I haven’t seen Jay Dawg use that move in… ever!”

Riley: “It’s the perfect move right now! Think of the torture on that back!”

Dangerous screams out in pain as JD only hangs onto the elevated crab, showing some mercy by not stepping his foot or knee in. JD walks toward the steps though, and steps onto them, and the fans boo out loud as Jay Dawg gets even more leverage for the hold! JD suddenly takes his left foot over, and steps right into the back of Dangerous! “AAAAAAAARRRRGHHH!!!” Dangerous begins to frantically pound the mat as he cries in pain, knowing there is no hope in making it to the ropes…

Stevens: “He’s going to have to tap! Look at how Jay Dawg has him bent!”

…but JD releases the hold!

Riley: “It ain’t over yet!”

Stevens: “Jay Dawg wants this match to last! That may have saved Dangerous, or will put him in more of a world of Saskatchewan hardcore international title!”

The referee gives Jay Dawg hell for releasing the hold, but the Vancouver native merely chuckles, requesting that the ref disqualifies him. The ref shakes his head at Jay Dawg’s arrogance and allows the match to continue. JD pulls Dangerous up off the steps and into a facelock, leaps into the air, and smashes Dangerous into the steel steps with JD DDT! Johnny smashes face first into the steps and falls off. Jay Dawg rolls off the steps and hooks the leg with the confident cover.

One…

Two…

Thre…No! Dangerous kicks out!

JD looks straight at the referee, his facial expression clearly shining out pissed off. JD peals Dangerous off the mat and into a standing headscissors. JD looks back to the steps, and begins to grin. The crowd boos in anger as JD takes a step back places Dangerous on the steps with him. JD pulls Dangerous into another standing headscissors, but Dangerous suddenly drops to his knees and uppercuts straight up!

DING

Jay Dawg’s eyes roll into the back of his head, as he hopes the balls return back to his scrotum sometime soon. Dangerous hooks onto Jay Dawg’s arm, shifts his weight underneath of Drazon’s body, and flips him over his shoulder with a super Judo throw onto the mat! Jay Dawg bounces off the mat and Dangerous splashes onto him immediately! Johnny hooks the leg as the crowd goes insane for the possible upset!

ONE…

TWO…

THRE…NO!! Jay Dawg barely scrapes his shoulder off the mat!

Stevens: “He got him… oh so close!”

Riley: “Low blow! What a cheapshot!”

Dangerous grabs at his hair surprised that Jay Dawg got a shoulder up. Johnny shakes his head but walks to the corner, encouraging Jay Dawg to return to his feet as he stands on the top rope. Dangerous stands on the top turnbuckle; looking at JD he holds his arm and begins taunting for JD as the fallen adversary slowly returns to his feet. Jay Dawg stands up fully, but begins to stumble… Drazon looks up as Dangerous leaps up off the top rope and latches his legs around Jay Dawg’s head and begins to spin off… flipping him to the mat with the Hurricane Rana! Jay Dawg sits up, only to fall straight back down again. Dangerous rests on his hands and knees for a second, taking a deep breath to ease the pain in his back. He turns around and drapes his arm over the chest of the fallen Jay Dawg… the fans count along…

“ONE!”

ONE

“TWO!”

TWO

“THREE!!”

THREE…NO!! Everyone in the arena goes insane as they realize how close Johnny Dangerous is to defeating Jay Dawg in his own yard.

Stevens: “Johnny is getting dangerously close to defeating Jay Dawg!”

Riley: “Your puns are punishment to the ears!”

Johnny stomps his foot into the mat, then slices his thumb over his throat. “You’re finished, Jay Dawg!” shouts Dangerous, as he lets JD start to climb to his feet. He stomps his foot again, signalling it’s time for a Johnny Kick! Dangerous steps forward before thrusting his right leg at Jay Dawg… but JD slaps his hands together, catching it around the ankle! Jamie Drazon’s eyelids explode open, and he begins to show his sadistic grin. He shoves the foot down and spins 180 degrees backward, and connects hard with the reverse spinkick!

Riley: “Oh, that’s gotta hurt!”

Stevens: “Johnny Dangerous looked to finish it off! But I guess JD has more life left in him!”

Dangerous begins to spin clockwise, barely standing, but right into Jay Dawg’s grip, as he scoops Dangerous onto his shoulder and holds him still… before dropping straight to his knees with a Tombstone Piledriver! The crowd drops their head as Dangerous now lies limp, his body lying before Jay Dawg. JD crawls over, his grin wide spread over his face. He hooks the leg, letting the ref drop for the count…

…but before the ref reaches one, JD pulls Dangerous off the mat!

Riley: “Jay Dawg isn’t finished!”

Stevens: “Jay Dawg just pulled Johnny’s shoulders off the mat! What is he up to!?”

Jay Dawg stands up off the mat and peals Dangerous up with him, before climbing onto the steps…

Stevens: “Oh no!”

Jay Dawg pulls Dangerous onto the steps and scoops him onto his shoulders…

Stevens: “Don’t tell me!”

Riley: “Do tell me!”

Jay Dawg drops to his knees…

CLANG

TOMBSTONE PILEDRIVING JOHNNY DANGEROUS ON TOP OF THE STEPS!!

Stevens: “Oh my god! That was sick!”

Riley: “SUCKAH!!”

Dangerous collapses onto the steps, and JD promptly rolls him onto the mat before dropping on top of him and hooking the leg. JD lets his eyes stare forward, glaring at the ref to count.

ONE…

TWO…

THREEEEEE!!!

Jay Dawg slams the leg down as the lyricless “Du Haste” hits over the speakers.

Funyon: “The winner of this match via Pinfall! JAMIE ‘JAY DAWG’ DRAZON!!!”

Jay Dawg lets his eyelids flutter back down and shield his pupils as he looks down at the fallen Dangerous.

Stevens: Dangerous took the fight to Jay Dawg! But nagging pains and the powerful brutality of Jamie Drazon just prevailed!”

Riley: “Jay Dawg just showed that punk bitch what it’s like to cause people title shots!”

The crowd continues to boo Jay Dawg as he starts to leave the ring and disappears behind the curtains as we cut to a commercial.

March 22, 2003

The camera fades in on the Suicide King rifling through a file cabinet in a makeshift office in some backroom of the Kemper Arena. The fans boo at the sight of the hated commissioner. His job has become harder than ever with the miraculous turn of events that happened up and down the card at From the Fire. Sorrowfully, they show no signs of letting up as Frost enters from off camera and receives a small pop from out in the auditorium. His eyes are sunken like a man who hasn’t slept in days, and that could be easily true. He looks down at the ICTV Title belt that he holds in his hands. He shakes his head once and folds the leather straps of the belt in under the faceplate and lays it on King’s desk. Frost turns to leave, but King senses the man behind him and whirls around with a wad of papers in his hand. He sees the belt on his desk and is taken aback with a confused look.

“Hey…hold on, what is this?” King says while stepping toward his desk and setting the papers down.

Frost pauses and wheezes in an exhausted voice “It’s the ICTV Title.”

“I know that Einstein!” King snaps, “What is it doing on my desk?”

Frost sighs and hangs his head. He takes a deep breath to steel himself and simply replies, “I’m vacating it.”

Confused murmurs from the fans fill the background while King’s eyes flash with fire and he jams a finger into the hard surface of the title belt. “You’re vacating it! You can’t just up and vacate a title on a whim. We have a number one contenders match later tonight, what are they supposed to compete for?”

“This belt is still something to compete for, just not with me.” Frost narrows his eyes at King and purses his lips in thought. He speaks with more edge in his voice. “This isn’t a whim either. I’ve been mulling over what to do since Sunday. I not only let Neilsen beat me, but I laid on the canvas like a chump while he threw this title down at his feet like it was a third rate Cracker Jack prize. Now, someone spits in my face, that’s fine, eventually I’ll spit back, but...” his deep voice trails off and becomes much quieter “I allowed this title to be disgraced and degraded on my watch. I wasn’t good enough to protect it and make sure something like that never happened. A title belt is only as prestigious and legendary as those who hold it, as those who sweat and bleed over the right to hold it. This championship is still worthy, but I’m not. I allowed it to be tarnished and I don’t deserve to be called ‘champion’ any longer when I have no right to be. I’ve been doing a lot of talking lately, but now I need to do some actions to truly be a better man.”

Kings draws in a rush of air through gritted teeth and tries to contain his boiling rage. “Do you believe that bullsh*t you’re spreading around? I don’t buy this act of yours for a minute. You’re working some kind of angle, I just don’t know what yet. This honorable utopian Zen master crap is getting a little annoying.”

“Really, I figured it would just be the honor part getting to you. I have another stop to make.”

Frost turns and exits with King yelling after him. “Get back here! We’re not done! You can’t do this!” The camera fades to black as King steps out from behind his desk and heads out after him.

March 22, 2003

We return to SWF Storm and the crowd is going absolutely wild, holding up signs reading such things as “Justsuck and Suck”, “Raynor Was Robbed”, and “TNT IS THE ROQ~!” In the middle of the ring, Funyon tells jokes to keep the crowd alive as Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley, from the commentary position, lead us in.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Mark Stevens begins, “It’s like a carnival in here, as SWF Storm is rolling past midcard bend and on the fast track towards main event boulevard!”

“Carnivals suck,” Bobby Riley retorts, “But thus far this show has not, as we’ve seen the absolutely jaw-dropping debut of Déjà Vu, who competed in a very close matchup earlier tonight. We’re not going to tell you the results now, though, because we have a replay in three hours and we want you to watch it!”

“Indeed we do, Bobby. Also tonight, we saw our newly crowned World champion, “TNT” Taylor Nicholas Thompson, discuss his victory over El Luchadore Magnifico at From the Fire III.”

“And we also saw Wildchild in action, in a match with your hero and mine, Neilsen of the Jungle. And for those of you keeping track at home, that’s spelled N-E-I-L-S-E-N.”

“Indeed it is. We’re coming off of a huge no disqualifications match between Jay Dawg and Johnny Dangerous, and now the stakes get higher as Mike Van Siclen goes one on one with Mak Francis, for the Franchise’s United States title!”

“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL, and it is a singles match for the SWF U-NITED STATES CHAMPIONSHIP!”

The four quick cymbals and even quicker guitar riff that begins “Damage Done” by Dark Tranquility blasts throughout the arena, as the lights go out and blue strobes begins to flash in time with the music. Mike Van Siclen steps onto the ramp, his arms extending in a bent crucifix under his acid-green jacket. He spins around the on the ramp, grinning like a madman as he breaks out of his spin cycle and steps cockily down the entrance ramp, sliding into the ring and extending his arms to the side, dropping his arms and letting his jacket slide off and to the mat. The referee, hassled, picks it up, as Mike walks to his corner, stretching out a bit before his upcoming match.

“Introducing first, the challenger! Weighing in at two-hundred and thirty-seven pounds, he hails from Harrison, Illinois! Introducing to you the only Smarks Junior Leagues GRAND SLAM champion, MIIIIIIIKE VA-AN SIIIIIIC-LEEEEEEEN!”

The crowd pops a bit for Van Siclen’s name as the house lights shut off and 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.

“The rent charge… Comin’ up in the world, don’t trust nobody… Gotta’ look over your shoulder constantly!”

As the opening lyrics from Rock Superstar by Cypress Hill, slightly altered of course, blare over the PA system, it takes a little while but eventually 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…

“I remember the days, when I was a young kid grownin’ up… Lookin’ in the mirror dreamin’ about blowin’ up!”

That cues multiple short bursts of green pyrotechnics erupting from either side of him. 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 shoots a glare at his formerly co-sWo member, then climbs the nearest turnbuckle and poses with both fists raised in the air.

“And the champion! Weighing in at two-hundred twenty-five pounds, he hails from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania! He is a true Franchise, in addition to being YOUR UNITED STATES CHAMPION… MAAAAAAAAAAK FRAAAAAAAAAAAN-CIIIIIIIIS!”

Francis steps off the turnbuckle, turning to face Mike as the ref calls for the bell.

-=: Ding Ding Ding :=-

”And this match is underway, ladies and gentlemen!”

Van Siclen and Mak slowly circle each other, the tension in the air thickening as both men circle around the ring, trying to get inside the opponent’s head… The two continue to circle and the crowd’s cheering grows even louder as the two men go round and round, to quote the sugar babes… finally, Van Siclen can take it no more, and he charges his former stable leader. Mak charges as well and the two lock up, collar-and-elbow style, and Van Siclen gains the advantage, catching Mak with a knee to the stomach. The United States champion doubles over in pain, as Van Siclen lets go of him, allowing Francis to stumble back. Van Siclen, hungry, follows Mak… but Francis quickly grabs him by the tights and rolls him up! The ref counts….

“ONE!”

“TWO!”

“THREE!”

-=: Ding Ding Ding :=-

Francis lets go of the hold, the crowd cheering slightly as the referee retrieves the US title and hands it to Mak, who holds the title up in the middle of the ring. Van Siclen lies on the canvas, staring up into the lights and, upon realizing he just jobbed in less than a minute, begins cursing. He gets up, onto his knees, and begins cursing out Mak as the Franchise celebrates with his title.

“And Mak with the retain over Van Siclen, who has yet to win a match here in the WF!”

“He’s still got time, Mark… just be patient.”

March 22, 2003

The camera fades in on Tom Flesher standing in his dressing room. The fan jeering is almost immediate. He carefully folds a polo shirt and places it in his gym bag. He wasn’t expecting to wrestle tonight, but he knows to always prepare for the unexpected. As that thought flits through his mind, the door of the room swings open wide and Frost enters. The crowd reaction to this is beyond mixed; cheers, jeers, gasps, mumbling murmurs, just about every sound one could think of.

Flesher looks at Frost with a smirk and zips up his bag. “Don’t you believe in knocking or were you raised in a cave up in Greenland…Iceland…Disney Land…wherever.” Flesher ends his mocking with a laugh.

“I’m here to tell you two things and I’m not going to dance around it.” Frost says with measured pacing. He stands like a rock in the middle of the floor, the loathing for the man in front of him very palpable and giving energy to his tired form. “First, the only reason you’re the leader of the Magnificent 7 today is because I suggested you to Chris Wilson. Nothing you ever did meant sh*t to him, know that.” Frost points at Tom who bristles wide-eyed at that claim while the audience roars with approval. “Honestly, he felt I wasn’t ready to take over. Wilson didn’t think I was a leader and he was right. I’ve been charging straight ahead since I’ve come into the SWF for a year now. Winning the titles I was told I should win, joining up with the people I was told to join up with, taking a step back when told to, having to learn my place when told to. No more, I’m the leader now!” Frost jabs a thumb into his chest and the fans are going crazy. Flesher tenses up and assumes a subtle fighting position. “I’m the leader of my own career and my own destiny. I’m quitting the Magnificent 7 and for all I care you and the rest of your goons can go straight to hell!” The background noise of cheering drowns out everything else. Everyone could sense this day coming and now it has to the crowd’s apparent delight.

“You pompous son of a bitch,” Flesher starts in “everyone treats you like a muscle bound lug, because that’s all you really all. I don’t care what Wilson told you or what influence you think you had on him, dumb beasts need to be fed the right line to be kept in place. However, I’m sick and tired of having to do that with you. We lost the tag belts because of you. You lost the ICTV Title to a broken down has-been who then whipped out his dick and pissed all over it. You’re a goddamn loser and I don’t want you in the Mag 7 anyway. I only kept your ass on as a favor to Wilson in the first place.” Flesher strolls up to Frost and bumps chest with mammoth man. They lock stares intently, but are broken up before they can come to blows by a figure dashing into the room.

“Break it up Tweedle Dee and Tweelde Dumbass!” King barks as he steps in between the two men. The fans boo anew at his presence. He holds his arms out to make the two men keep their distance and shifts his eyes from one to the other. “I only heard a little bit coming down the hall, but it sounds like you’re sweeping all your chips from the table and running off with your tail between your legs, Frost.”

Flesher looks at King quizzically who answers his unsaid question “He just left the ICTV Title laying on my desk. Spouting off crap about how he wasn’t worthy to hold it and he needs to be a better man.”

“He couldn’t get any worse,” Flesher says with some of his smugness returning.

“I want a clean break from my old life and if I have to fight for it with you two, so be it.” Frost points at both of them, his determination and confidence rising. “I know who’s got my back and who’s back I should have and I know whose ass I need to kick. A new dawn starts here.” Frost points at the floor and storms out of the room with the audience popping loud.

King looks back at Flesher. “He doesn’t think he can get away with this does he?”

Flesher smiles, his mind going through the possibilities and, in a way, very relieved to be rid of the Icelander. “You should really punish him for throwing down the ICTV Title like that. If he wants to be a man on his own, let him.”

King smiles coldly at the heel in his own image, “If he wants to be one man against the world, why not? I could book him in a handicapped match with Justice and Rule next week.” The throng jeers heartily at that.

“We don’t want to be too harsh on the old boy,” Tom quips mischievously. “Let’s say if he win, he gets a tag title shot with a partner of his choice. Whoever that might be.” Flesher and King exchange a look that says they both know who it would wind up being.

“And if he loses, maybe I’ll punish him a little bit more. I’m sure there will be some more former stablemates that would like to get in on the action.” King replies with an aloof air.

“Oh, assuredly. You know…” Tom strokes his chin for a second with a wry look “Frost taking charge of his own life and career could be very fun.”

“Especially when we take both from him.” A laugh rolls out from King and the two men share a sinister laugh like a pair of comic book villains as the scene fades out.

March 22, 2003

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen it is now time for the MAIN EVENT OF THE EVENING!

The crowd gives an enormous ovation to let Funyon know their ready to rumble.

Funyon: The following bout is scheduled for one fall, and is under submission rules......

The heavy feed back of Biohazard’s “Sellout” rumbles it’s way out of the PA, forcing the fans to cover their ears rather than “boo” as Ejiro comes strutting out of the locker room area, making his way down to the ring.

Funyon: Introducing first, weighing in at a trim 188 pounds, hailing from Sarasota, Florida.......HE IS ONE HALF OF THE SWF TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS......EJIRO FASAKIiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!

Ejiro hops up on the second rope, and starts pumping his fist in perfect unison with pyro balls, that are erupting out of the ring posts!

Stevens: Welcome back to SWF Storm! Fans, we are just moments away from the Main Event, a submission match between Danny Williams and Ejiro Fasaki to determine the number one contender for the now vacant ICTV title!

Riley: Despite pulling off an incredible upset over our lord and savior, Tom Flesher, and some other guy for the Tag Team Titles, Ejiro still feels under appreciated. So the Suicide King is giving him a chance to prove himself against one of his M7 elders, Danny Williams.

Stevens: These two have met before in the ring, with Frost as a special guest official. Despite being incredibly overmatched, Ejiro did his best to keep Danny under control with an Armbar, but Danny’s combination of power and experience was too much for him.

Riley: Tonight, we get to see how far Ejiro has progressed since their last meeting, plus this a submission match which plays heavily into his favor.

Suddenly the heavy thrash of Biohazard fades out, and is replaced by the gentle melodies of In Flame’s “Jester’s Dance” echoes through the arena.

Funyon: And his opponent, weighing in at 238 pounds, hailing from Louisville, Kentucky..........DANNY WILLIAMSsssssssssssssss!!!

Williams pushes his way through the heavy curtains draping from the locker room entrance to a mixed reaction.

Stevens: There he is, the former United States Champion, Danny Williams. Submission match or not, Danny Williams is the easily favorite here.

Riley: I don’t know, Stevens. He’s coming off a tough loss to Mak Francis, where he himself fail prey to his own submission hold. If I was Ejiro, I’d be looking for the Juji-gatame.

Stevens: Danny does have a lot to prove here, can he rebound from his heart breaking loss last week, or will he choke and lose his opportunity to move up to ICTV title level.

DING! DING! DING!

Aside from the a few claps from the people who are just happy to see some wrestling, the arena is rather quiet as the match begins. Ejiro comes energetically bouncing out of his corner like a ball of energy, while Williams slowly lumbers out like he’s a 5'10" Boris Karloff. Dancing around the ring like Mohammad Ali, Ejiro keeps a distance between himself and his roid freak opponent. Moving slowly, Williams relentlessly pursues Ejiro, doing his best to cut him off, but each time, he’s more than just a few steps behind his much quicker adversary.

Stevens: Williams is just stalking Ejiro, looking to corner him so he can do some serious damage.

Riley: Which won’t be an easy task, considering that Ejiro is showing some grease lighting speed tonight.

Stevens: Not really, Ejiro only looks that fast in comparison to Danny Williams. Faskai is actually rather average in the quickness department.

Feeling brave, Fasaki lungs in at Williams, thumping his knee with a hard kick! Sucking up the pain in his leg, Williams fires an elbow at Ejiro while he’s still in range.....

Swoooooooooosh!

Ejiro ducks, spins behind Williams, and swiftly delivers a kick to the back of his knee as he stumbles forward with the momentum of the missed elbow!

Thump!

Growling like a wounded animal, Danny painfully drops to a single knee! Ejiro moves in for the kill, but to his surprise he finds Williams waiting for him with an arm drawn back for a big Elbow! Seeing that, Ejiro back paddles to the other side of the ring in a hurry, giving Danny his space. As impatient and frustrated as Danny, the crowd begins to chant....

“FASAKI’S A PUSSY!” clap! clap! clap!clap!clap! “FASKAI’S A PUSSY!”

Biting his lip like he’s trying to hold back his rage or pain, Williams stands up, and gives his sore knee a couple of rubs. Having broke a sweat from dancing around, Ejiro uses the opportunity to catch his breath.

Stevens: Ejiro using a hit and run strategy to very slowly wear Williams down, so he can possibly get him on the mat for a submission attempt.

Riley: Tell that to these idiot fans! Somehow I get the impression that they would want to see little Ejiro commit suicide by going toe to toe with Williams.

Ejiro eagerly bounces his way to the center of the ring, and Williams slowly follows. The two grapplers inch their way towards each other, their hands nervously extended for a grapple. Just as they get within arms reach, Ejiro slams his boot into Williams’ knee once again!

Thump!

The kick stops Williams dead in his tracks, allowing Ejiro to continue the assault on his leg, each kick driving him back a step!

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Without warning, Ejiro goes up stairs, catching Williams off guard with a stiff Enzuigiri!

Crack!

His eyes rolling up in his head, Williams drunkenly staggers back into a corner, trying desperately to stay on his feet! Pushing the attack, Ejiro rushes to a vertical base, and bashes Williams with a Jumping Knee in the corner!

Crack!

With a blank expression on his face, Williams slides down to the floor. The crowd “boos” away as Ejiro mercilessly starts to slam knees into Williams’ face, over and over again!

“One, Two, Three....Break!” orders Soapdish, but it falls on deaf ears to Ejiro, who is busy kneeing away!

Having seen enough, Soapdish steps in, getting between Ejiro and Williams like he’s trying to break up a school yard fight. Finally, Ejiro backs off to the center of the ring where he celebrates, triumphantly raising his arms to the jeers of the crowd. Having gotten a brief break, Williams shakes the cobwebs loose, takes hold of the top rope, and begins pulling himself up.

Riley: Building off the shin kicks, Ejiro has strung together an offensive flurry that has left the former Champion in a heap.

Stevens: Now that he’s got Danny hurt, he needs to concentrate on getting the submission.

Seeing that Williams is back on his feet, Ejiro picks up some speed, and dives at his cornered foe with his knee extended towards his face....

Riley: He’s gonna scramble Williams’ brains with a another Jumping Knee!

but Danny catches Ejiro’s leg, and sends him to the mat with a hard shove!

Stevens: He telegraphed that one!

Despite being a bit shaking up, Ejiro scrambles to his feet, and keeps Williams in the corner with a flurry of elbows!

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Looking to stop the assault, Williams desperately ties Ejiro up in a front facelock.

“One, Two, Three....O.K., break Williams!” commands, Soapdish.

Still not looking all there, Williams sadly lets Ejiro up, who resumes his assault with an Elbow Smash!

Crack!

Almost immediately, Williams restrains Ejiro with a Headlock. With the headlock, Williams muscles Ejiro around so that it is Fasaki who has his back to the corner.

“Come on, break up it guys.” asks Soapdish, trying his best to patient.

Williams cautiously releases Ejiro, only smother him with extremely stiff, close range Elbow Smashes, while the crowd starts to heat up!

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Hurt and with no where to run, Ejiro clings to Williams with a tight headlock.

Riley: Ejiro’s in trouble, he needs to get out of that damn corner or this is gonna be a short match!

Stevens: This is exactly the type of close range combat that Ejiro should be avoiding.

Not letting a headlock stop him from bringing the pain, Williams starts rapidly driving hard forearms into Ejiro’s ribs!

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

The pain in his abdomen growing unbearable, Ejiro loosens his grip just enough so that Williams can slip out of the headlock! Now free, Danny spins clock wise at a 180 degree angle, bashing Ejiro with a Reverse Elbow!

CRACK!

Williams spins back to face Ejiro, finding that he is still dazed, Danny slams another Reverse Elbow into his temple!

CRACK!

Ejiro is left tittering, looking like the slightest breeze can blow him down. The crowd roars as Williams spins in place, and levels Faskai with a cringe inducing Rolling Elbow!

CRAAAAAAACK!

Ejiro slides down the ropes like a corpse, lifelessly flopping on the mat.

Stevens: ROLLING ELBOW! ROLLING ELBOOOOOOOW!!!

Hot for the wild brawling action, the fans give a standing ovation. Williams doesn’t get a chance to enjoy it, collapsing to his knees with a throbbing head ache, while a barely conscious Ejiro rolls out on the apron, and drops down to the floor.

Stevens: Ejiro got caught in the corner, where he found himself out gunned by the bigger and stronger, Danny Williams.

Riley: Stupid, stupid, stupid! Even though Williams was hurt, Ejiro should have never rushed in like that! He should have stuck with his game plan, and got Danny on the mat.

Stevens: I’m actually starting to wonder if Williams was as hurt as he made himself out to be. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was just a trick to sucker Ejiro inside.

His head ache dulling down, Williams rolls to the outside to retrieve Ejiro’s body. With the aid of his hair and tights, Williams lifts Ejiro’s limp carcass up on the apron. Danny slides back into the ring, leans over the ropes, and pulls his young victim up by his hair. Williams tucks Ejiro’s head down in a front facelock, slings his arm back over his shoulder, and grabs a handful of his tights.

Stevens: Danny, preparing to bring Ejiro in the hard way!

“Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” grunts Williams as he hoists his feather weight opponent over the ropes with ease, lifting him overhead at a perfect vertical angle! Williams stalls for a few seconds, and drops back.....

Boom!

slamming Ejiro into the ring with a hard Vertical Suplex! Without a second to lose, Danny floats on top of Ejiro, scissoring his shoulder for the Cross Armbreaker! Ejiro urgently clamps his hands together like a padlock, preventing Williams from straightening his arm out across his body! Williams sits up, and starts straining with all his might to pry Ejiro’s fingers apart! The excited fans pop out of their chairs, expecting the match to be over at any second.

Stevens: Williams, going for the JUJI-GATAME! Perhaps the most feared submission hold in the SWF, today!

Riley: Your an’t kidding, Stevens! Two of the three points in the Iron Man Match last week, were scored by the Ju-got me or whatever it’s called.

Stevens: Correct, Riley. At From the Fire, the Juji-gatame was able to do what Powerbombs, Frog Splashes, and high impact Suplexes couldn’t!

Straining to keep his hand linked together, Ejiro starts wiggling his way towards the ropes, while the fans cheer and howl like crazy! With just inches to go, Ejiro’s fingers start to slip apart as Williams begins to gain the upper hand!

Riley: HE’S NOT GONNA MAKE IT!

Fighting with every ounce of strength in his body, Ejiro kicks his legs to side, managing to secure his boots around the bottom rope just as Williams breaks his fingers apart! Realizing that Ejiro made the ropes, the fans find their seats and quiet down.

Soapdish quickly shouts, “Break!”, before Williams can fall back and lock on the hold.

Stevens: Ejiro, surviving a close one!

Not crying over spilled milk, Danny keeps hold of Ejiro’s arm, slinging him over his shoulder and away from the ropes with a Judo Throw! The fans once again jump out of their seats as Williams drops his legs over Ejiro’s chest for the Cross Armbreaker.

Stevens: HE’S GOING FOR IT AGAIN!

Not willing to play that risky game again, Ejiro rolls off his back, and on to his feet before Williams can properly scissor his shoulder to hold him down! Ending up directly above Williams, Ejiro drops a dickish right across Danny’s face, while he lays prone on his back!

“Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh!”

Not having the strength to stand back up, Ejiro rolls across the mat, until he reaches the ropes on the opposite side of the ring, while Danny clutches his face and stomps his boots into the mat.

Riley: Ejiro, not only escapes the Ju-ja.....Cross Arm Breaker, he also incapacitates Williams with a Knee Drop, giving him some time to recover from that brutal elbows he took a few moments ago!

Ejiro gives his jaw a couple of painful pops, and than climbs back to his feet, taking position near the ropes. Blinded by the involuntary watering of his eyes, Williams stumbles to his feet, with both his hands covering his nose. Ejiro explodes off the ropes at Williams, waiting until he gets within a few feet of his target before springing into the air.....

SMACK!

Ejiro floors Williams with a high, athletic, Spinning Heel Kick that connects right with his forehead! The fans once again “oh” at the echoing sound of boot against face!

Stevens: Ejrio sending Williams to the canvas with a beautiful martial arts kick!

Ejiro lays on his back for a few seconds, resting just a little bit more, before setting his sights back on the former U.S. Champion. Ejiro drags his dazed opponent up with a front facelock, drapes his arm over his shoulder, and grabs a handful of tights.

Riley: Ejiro, looking for a Snap Suplex!

Stevens: A good way to momentarily stun someone for a possible ground submission.

Ejiro gathers his strength, bends his knees, and lifts!

“Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeya!”, grunts Ejiro as he strains his heart out! Unfortunately, it’s not enough to lift Williams off the mat. Not getting anywhere, Ejiro slips out of the Suplex set up in search of a surprise Armbar Takedown! But Williams keeps his boots planted firmly into the mat, refusing to go down! Confused, Ejiro grunts and spits, straining to take Williams down, but to no avail! The crowd stats to get into it, warming up considerably.

Stevens: Ejiro looking to take Williams down into a Fujiwara Armbar or perhaps even a Cobra Crossface, but the former U.S. Champion just isn’t cooperating!

The crowd goes wild as Danny waves a finger in Ejiro’s face, before sending him flipping high into the air with a powerful Armdrag out of nowhere!

Boom!

Williams rolls to his feet, and takes position near the ropes, while Ejiro collects himself on the mat. Once Ejiro is up, Williams leans deep into the ropes, and shoots himself off! As speeds forward at his victim, Danny draws back his arm for what is sure to be a devastating elbow....

Stevens: RUNNING ELBOW!

but Ejiro hits the deck, tripping Williams up with a Drop Toe Hold! Ejiro takes hold of Williams’ left arm, and sinks in a Fujiwara Armbar!

Stevens: EJIRO GOT IT! HE’S FINALLY GOT DANNY IN THE FUJIWARA ARMBAR!

Ejiro pulls back with all his might, bending Williams’ straightened arm in a direction it wasn’t meant to go! In unmeasurable pain, Danny pounds his free fist into the mat, while screaming his head off! The fans nervously arise, wondering if this could be all she wrote.

Riley: DANNY LOOKS LIKE HE’S ON THE VERGE OF THE TAPPING!

Refusing to tap, Williams climbs up to his knees, and rolls forward, escaping the hold! The next thing Ejiro knows, he’s being strangled with a tight head scissors! In need of escape, Ejiro rolls forward, slipping out of Williams’ legs, and landing in the mounted position on his chest! Snarling like a wild man, Ejiro sits on Williams’ chest, and starts pounding his face with sloppy but deadly closed fist punches and forearms!

Riley: Now this is the only position that Ejiro should be brawling with Danny from!

Having battered Williams’ head into dust, Ejiro drops to the side, scissoring his arm for the Cross Armbreaker! The fans give a worried pop, as Williams starts kicking his legs while screaming in agony!

Stevens: JUJI-GATAME! JUJI-GATAME! AT FROM THE FIRE, WILLIAMS TAPPED TO THIS IN UNDER TEN SECONDS!

In an instant, Danny’s wondering boot finds the ropes, and Soapdish orders the break!

Riley: HE MADE THE ROPES!

Frustrated, Ejiro releases Williams’ tortured arm with a sigh. While Ejiro back rolls to his feet, Williams rolls out of the ring, clutching his elbow and groaning. Quieting down, the fans plant their asses back in their chairs.

Stevens: Williams wisely bailing, after surviving two submission attempts back to back.

Riley: There’s no telling how much badly damaged his arm is, even though he only spent a couple of seconds in the hold.

Ejiro takes the time to adjust his tights, before sliding out after his wounded prey. Ejiro finds Williams trying to get up with just the use of one arm, so like a true dick, he lays a couple of stiff kicks into his bad arm!

Smack! Smack!

The pain is so great, Williams drops to his knees, allowing Ejiro to stun him with a hard Roundhouse Kick to the jaw!

SMACK!

Williams flops back on the floor, his eyes gradually glazing over. Ejiro jaws off at some of the front roll fans, before dragging Williams up by his tights. Ejiro perplexes the fans by standing behind Williams, and positioning him in a modified rear waistlock, where he has taking hold of Danny’s left wrist with his right hand, bending it across his stomach like a Straight Jacket Suplex set up! Ejiro than runs sideways with Williams, picking up some speed, before ramming Danny’s left elbow into the guardrail!

CLANK!

The front role jerk back, wincing along with Williams, who is sliding down to the floor in anguish!

Riley: Ouch, he just drove Williams’ funny bone into the guardrail!

Stevens: Some creative arm work form one half of the SWF Tag Team Champions.

Ejiro leaves Williams agonizing on the floor, to fetch what turns out to be a fold up chair!

Stevens: You don’t see Ejiro with a chair too often.

Riley: Well I guess after hanging out with M7 for so long, some of their dirty tactics is finally rubbing off on him.

Soapdish already starts to go apeshit in the ring, leaning over the ropes, and screaming,”Put it down, Ejiro, put it down!”

Ignoring the official, Ejiro marches over to Williams, raises the chair over his head, and brings it across his arm!

SMACK!

“Boooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!”

The pain shooting through Williams’ arm is so intense that he spasms around on the floor like he’s having a seizure.

Riley: It may not be as creative as the Straight Jacket thingy, but it’s far more effective in my eyes!

Ejiro draws back the chair once more.....

“Submission match or not, hit him again and I’ll D.Q. your ass!”, shouts the pissed off official over the jeers of the crowd.

Frowning, Ejiro tosses the chair aside, and forces Williams up by his bad arm. Ejiro takes hold of Williams’ tights, and rolls him back into the ring. Ejiro slides back in after him, quickly securing Danny by his bad arm, yanking him up. Ejiro twists Williams’ arm over around his head, and slams him into the mat with a sudden Belly to Back Suplex!

BOOM!

The ring shakes so hard from impact that sounds like distant thunder!

Stevens: BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACKDROP!

Ejiro promptly swings his legs over Williams’ chest, scissoring his shoulder for the Juji-Gatame! The crowd worked up into a frenzy, as Williams desperately locks his finger together, fighting to keep his arm bent!

Riley: HE’S GONNA TRY THE CROSS ARMBREAKER AGAIN!

Stevens: With all that work Ejiro has done on Williams’ arm, he’ll have to tap out the second it’s applied!

Williams starts scooting his way to the ropes, while a crazy eyed Ejiro strains with all his might to pull his arm across his body! Keeping his hands locked together like glue, Williams makes his way to the ropes to the relief of the fans! Soapdish orders the break, and Ejiro half heartedly obliges. Pushing the attack, Ejiro clamps a front facelock on Williams, and walks him away from the ropes, where he bends his arm behind his back! Letting out a fearsome battle cry, Ejiro kicks his legs out, pulling Danny to the mat by his head and arm!

Thump!

The disgusted crowd “ohs” at the sight of Williams landing on his knees with the top of his head planted in the mat!

Riley: HA, HE LANDED RIGHT ON HIS HEAD!

Stevens: Courtesy of a sick single arm DDT from Ejiro!

Not giving Williams a chance to recover from the head drop, Ejiro takes a seat on Williams’ back, scissoring his shoulder for the Step Over Armbar! The fans jump out of their seats in terror as Ejiro successfully straightens Williams’ arm out! Williams tortured wails echos through the arena, sending chills down the spines of the fans!

Stevens: WAKI-GATAME! WAKI-GATAME!

Riley: IF EJIRO CAN KEEP HIM OFF THE ROPES, THE WIN IS IN THE BAG!

His shoulder being ripped from the socket, Williams bites his upper lip to stop his screaming as he starts clawing his way too the ropes! Not just satisfied with breaking Williams’ arm, Ejiro begins to sadistically pull back on Williams’ fingers, attempting to break them as well! The repulsed fans begin to “boo” madly.....

Stevens: THAT BASTARD IS TRYING TO BREAK WILLIAMS’ FINGERS, AS WELL AS HIS ARM!

Riley: GOD, I LOVE THIS GUY!

In a matter of seconds, Williams makes his way to the ropes! Danny rashly takes hold of the bottom rope, and Soapdish orders the break! Beginning to look frustrated, Ejiro slams Williams’ arm down, and starts madly laying some soccer kicks into the ribs of his kneeling opponent!

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Under the heavy fire of stiff kicks, Williams rolls out of the ring in hurry! Furious at Williams’ stubbornness, Ejiro angrily paces around the ring, kicking the bottom rope, spitting, cursing, and throwing a fit. Williams is laying face down on the mat, his arm bent behind his back, and involuntarily twitching.

Stevens: Frustration starting to set in for the Ejiro. It seems that every time he is able to lock in the submission, Williams is too close to the ropes.

Riley: He’s doing the right thing by using stun moves to set up the submission attempts, he just needs to keep his cool and be patient. It’s not going to be easy to beat Danny in a submission or any time of match, hell it took Mak Francis 58 minutes the other night!

Williams slowly but surely begins to make an attempt to stand up, while Ejiro impatiently jogs in place on the inside, waving him on. Almost one at a time, the members of the audience begin to chant....

“DAN-E!” boom! boom! “DAN-E!” boom! boom!

Stevens: The crowd getting behind Danny Williams for probably the first time since he was bumped to the SWF.

With the crowd chanting his name, Williams bravely slides int the ring, being meet with the ruthless stomps of Ejiro. Ejiro takes back hold of his battered opponent’s bad arm, pulls him back to the center of the ring, and hooks Williams’ head in a Urange Setup!

Stevens: EJIRO’S GOING FOR THE STO!

As Ejiro prepares to sweep Williams’ leg out, the former U.S. Champion puts his plans on hold with a flurry of hard back elbows!

Crack! Crack! Crack!

The pain from all the previous elbows that Williams landed earlier in the match comes raging back, forcing Ejiro to release Williams, and stagger back while holding his head! Williams doesn’t hesitate to spin at Ejiro, and fire an elbow.....

Stevens: ROLLING ELBOW!

but Ejiro ducks, and hooks Williams back up! In a flash, Ejiro sweeps Williams’ legs out, planting him into the mat with authority!

BOOM!

Stevens: THE STO!

Williams lays prone on his back with the wind knocked out of him, allowing Ejiro to spread his arm out horizontally, hold it down, and repeatedly drop knees on to it!

Riley: Ejiro, continuing to work over that arm in hopes of setting up some kind of submission.

Stevens: As always, the majority of Ejiro’s offense has been focused on that arm.

Ejiro releases Williams’ arm, pulls down to his knee pad, leaps into the air, and brings a final hard knee across his arm to the “ohs” of the crowd! In unbearable pain, Williams tries to roll out of the ring, but Ejiro catches him by the wrist, forcing him to his feet. Wear a disturbing smile across his face, Ejiro slowly twists Williams’ arm into a painful Arm wringer, forcing him to double over! With Williams right where he wants him, Ejiro leaps into the air, and brings his leg down across Danny’s arm! Knowing what comes next, the worried fans once again jump out of their seats in fear.

Stevens: FASAKI FUSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

Riley: A set up for the Cobra Crossface, this could be it Stevens!

Not wasting a second, Ejio attempts to grapevine Williams’ bad arm for his trademark submission hold, but Danny greasily slips out of clutches, rolling to the ropes in a blur!

Stevens: Having been in that situation before, Williams saw it coming, and was able to make the ropes!

Riley: Yeah, Danny’s faced Ejiro before. Last time, Ejiro even had the element of surprise, but it still wasn’t enough to lock the hold on. Ejiro is going to have to probably knock Williams’ silly before he has a chance of locking the Cobra Crossface on.

Stevens: Your right, Riley. It’s a rather difficult hold to apply to begin with, it requires a lot of steps, that gives the opponent several opportunities to make the ropes.

His frustration getting the better of him, Ejiro stomps over to Williams, and starts laying some nasty kicks into his back! The sound of boot against flesh, echoes throughout the arena, while the crowd collectively “ohs”.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

Williams loosens his grip, but that doesn’t stop Ejiro from dropping his bare knee across the side of his head anyway! Some heads in the crowd turn away, the other’s cringe in unison. Having turned Williams into a drooling zombie, Ejiro easily snapmares him off the ropes, painfully chickenwings his bad arm, and brings the other around his chin for the cross face! Despite having mash potatoes for brains, Williams instinctively brings his free arm up, blocking the cross face!

Stevens: EJIRO ATTEMPTING TO LOCK ON A CROSS FACE CHICKENWING!

Riley: If Ejiro can successfully lock on any arm submission at his point, Danny is finished!

Both men tremble and strain as Ejiro attempts to apply the hold, while Williams tries to hold him off!

“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” strains Danny as pushes Ejiro’s arm back, and locks his fingers around his wrist to hold it in place. Purple faced from strain, Williams fights his way to a vertical base, and starts walking towards the ropes bringing Ejiro along with him, who is still fighting to lock on the cross face! The fans burst into applause as Williams makes it to the ropes, securing a boot around the bottom one!

Stevens: WILLIAMS MADE THE ROPES!

Riley: And Ejiro doesn’t look to happy about it.

Pissed at this turn of events, Ejiro releases Williams, spins him around, and starts slamming hard kicks into his arm!

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Ejiro takes hold of Williams’ bruised arm, and whips him off the ropes, but Danny hangs on, snapping Ejiro’s arm over his shoulder with a sudden Arm Breaker!

Stevens: AND OUT OF NOWHERE, DANNY SCORES WITH AN ARM BREAKER!

The crowd roars while Ejiro aimlessly wonders around, holding his arm and screaming! Williams takes the opportunity to shake out of his own injured arm, but he doesn’t get the chance, as Ejiro comes blindly spinning at him with out warning! Williams is caught like a deer in head lights as Ejiro ends his clockwise spin with a reverse elbow.....

Stevens: SCREAMING ELBOW!

that is ducked! After completing his spin, a dizzy Ejiro ends up face to face with Williams, who quickly snatches his left arm, and flops down to the mat, scissoring it!

Riley: Uh oh!

Using his powerful legs, Williams pulls Ejiro down to the mat! Realizing he’s in perfect position for the Cross Armbreaker, Ejiro desperately locks his fingers like he’s done so many times before!

Stevens: DANNY WILLIAMS TAKING EJIRO DOWN WITH A MINORU SPECIAL!

Riley: Huh, I thought it was a Ju-got-me?

Stevens: A Minoru Special is a rolling Juji-gatame, and Ejiro has got to keep his hands locked together in that guard, or this match is over!

The fans jump out of their seats in anticipation as Williams sits up, taking hold of Ejiro’s wrist! The fans blow the roof off the building as Williams drops back with all his body weight, breaking Ejiro’s fingers apart...

Stevens: HE BROKE THE GUARD!

however, Ejiro manages to squeeze his way out of the leg grapevine, sitting up and rolling to his feet!

Riley: NO, EJIRO ESCAPED!

Williams is still on his back, allowing Ejiro to take hold of his wrist, and fall back for his own Cross Armbreaker....

Riley: NOW EJIRO’S GOING FOR THE CROSS ARMBREAKER!

but Williams slips his arm out of Ejiro’s clutches, and scrambles to his feet before, leaving Ejiro defenseless on his back!

Stevens: DANNY REVERSED OUT OF IT!

In the blink of an eye, Williams takes hold of Ejiro’s boot, and drops back, locking on a Scissored Knee Bar!

Stevens: HIZA JUJI-GATAME! HIZA JUJI-GATAME!

Riley: A WHAT?

Ejiro starts pounding his fists into the mat, screaming at the top of his lungs, as Williams threatens to hyper extend his knee! Before anybody can even realize what’s just happened, Ejiro starts frantically tapping out! The surprised fans burst into cheers, hopping and down in celebration!

Stevens: IT’S OVER! EJIRO HAS TAPPED OUT!

Riley: Well, this certainly came out of nowhere.

Stevens: That was the whole idea, Riley. Williams knew that Ejiro would be expecting him to go for the Juji-gatame again as he had been all night, so he threw him a curve, and attacked the leg instead! Ejiro wasn’t expecting it, so Williams was able to lock on the Hiza Juji-gatame with ease, getting the submission with little resistance.

Soapdish calls for the bell, and Danny releases Ejiro’s stretched out leg! Ejiro pulls back his leg, and hides his head in shame, in complete disbelief as to how he could have let Williams locked on a submission hold so easily.

DING! DING! DING!

Stevens: And Danny Williams has scored an awesome victory, to re-establish himself as one of the best the SWF has to offer. Not a bad way to get back on track, after his disappointing defeat at the hands of Mak Francis.

Riley: Well, I still see a bright future ahead of Ejiro. He gave the former United States Champion one hell of a run, in fact up until the end he managed to stay in control throughout most of the match, something he was unable to do in their last meeting.

Stevens: Yes, Ejiro has made a good case for himself tonight. I think an up coming U.S. Title shot is not out of the question, though he will have to wait a while for the ICTV Title.

To make it official, Soapdish raises Williams’ good arm to a respectable applause from the crowd.

Funyon: The winner of the match in 16 minutes and 11 seconds.........AND THE NEW #1 CONTENDER FOR THE ICTV TITLE..........DANNY WILLIAMSssssssssssssssssssssssssss!!!

“The Jester’s Race” begins to play over the loud speakers drowning out the moderate cheers of the crowd. Having heard the official word, Ejiro pounds his fist into the mat, shouting clearly audible profanities aimed towards himself. Some medics enter the ring, checking out Williams’ arm, while a disappointed Ejiro quietly slithers out of the ring, hobbling his way back to the locker room.

Stevens: I’m sorry fans, but we are all out of time! Don’t forget to tune in next Wednesday for SWF Lockdown. Good night, folks.

SWF Storm, March 21, 2003

"SWF: Raising Workrate By Typing Faster"

March 22, 2003

The camera comes back to the Missouri crowd in the Kemper Arena as we await our surprise Main Event for the night! We go down to the announcer’s table, where ‘Grand Slam’ Mark Stevens and Bobbie Riley.

“Welcome back for the surprise Main Event of the night, a tag match starring the unlikely pair of our newest World Champion, Taylor Nicolas Thompson, and the man he just beat at From the Fire, El Luchadore Magnifico!”

“But that’s not all, Mark. On the other side of the ring we have the technical wizardry of Tom Flesher and William Hearford, just ready to take them down and tear them apart for the tap out!” Mark nods at Bobbie’s assessment as he continues to shill the match.

“Well, this will certainly be a barn-burner here. The talent here is immense, but there can only be one winner, and I have to say only one side has any World Champions.” Says Grand Slam with a smirk, and Bobbie gives him a look that would curdle milk. Well, maybe not normal milk, but at least rat milk.

“Hmph. ELM got lucky, and TNT was even luckier. I can’t believe he’d even side with scum like ELM against his mentor, Tom Flesher.”

“… Tom Flesher isn’t his mentor, Bobbie.”

“Of course he is! Why else would he finish off that rip-off the Frito Bandito with the Boilermaker?”

“Isn’t it obvious, Bobbie?”

“Yeah, it is. He’s his damn idol!”

Grand Slam gives an exasperated sigh as the as Funyon walks up the steel steps and walks into the center of the ring, raising the microphone to his mouth as the lights turn a stately blue.

“The following tag match is our MAIN EVENT! Entering first…”

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

As Queen’s “Princes of the Universe” hits the speakers, the SmarkTron turns white, flashing in blue letters “WORLD-CLASS TALENT”, “UNRIVALED TECHNICAL BRILLIANCE”, and “MAIN EVENT TEAM”. Suddenly, the music switches over to a darker feel, and the lights turn a harsh red. 3-Second clips of Magnificent 7 members hitting their finishers cycle on the big screen as the pair of wrestlers come out to a hail of boos. On either side, red pyros shoot up into the air,

“Now entering the ring at a combined weight of 455 pounds... A tag team built on technical expertise and experience, an undefeatable pairing of strength, speed, and intelligence, TOM FLEEEEEEEEEEEEESHER and WILLIAM HEEEEEAAAARFORFD!”

“I AM IMMORTAL, I HAVE INSIDE ME BLOOD OF KINGS! I HAVE NO RIVIAL! NO MAN CAN BE MY EQUAL!”

The two walk down to the ring dead serious on their match, though Hearford does yell a few insults at some of the noisier fans. The two slide under the rope together, and they walk over to their corner. The Judge shifts his kneepad a little, and the glint of his ever-present chain catches Grand Slam’s eye before he tucks it back away.

“I should have guessed he’d carry the chain on him.” Says a disgusted Mark, and Riley instantly comes to the Judge’s defense.

“Oh, come on. You probably saw his replacement metal knee. The Judge ain’t the man he used to be, ya know.”

“I thought you hated him after he and Ejiro beat Flesher and Frost.”

“As long as Magnificrap is on the receiving end of things, he’s okay in my book.” As Bobbie finishes up, Funyon moves on to the next team.

“And entering second…”

AC/DC’s “TNT” comes over the speaker system, and the crowd gives the World Champion a mixed reception of boos and cheers as he walks out onto the stage, looking down at the two competitors in the ring.

“Hailing from Anaheim, California and weighing in at 266 pounds… he is your SWF WOOOOOORLD CHAMPION… TAYLOR NICOLAS THOOOOOOOOOMPSON!”

He walks down to the ring with a somber look on his face, and as Bon Scott screams “WATCH ME EXPLOOOOOOOOOOOOOODE!” he thrusts one fist up into the air confidently, getting a decent sized pop out of the crowd. He hands his belt off to one of the ringside attendants and slides into the ring.

“And his partner…”

“UNO!”

BOOM!

“DOS!”

BOOM!

“TRES!”

BOOM!

“CUATRO!”

BOOM!

Orange pyros fire up after each word as “Mission Trip to Mexico” by Bunch of Believers is fired up, sparking a massive crowd reaction. The chorus starts up, and from out behind the curtain comes everyone’s favorite and COMPLETELY LEGAL immigrant, El Luchadore Magnifico!

“Weighing in at 193 pounds for a combined tag team weight of 459 pounds and hailing from Mexico City, Mexico… the Longest Reigning World Champion in the history of the SWF… EL LUUUUUUCHADORE MAGNIIIIIFICO!!”

He runs down the ramp, waving his Mexican Flag proudly in the air as the fans near the ramp reach over for a high five. He quickly gets into the ring, waving his flag around from side to side as the crowd enjoys every minute of it. He heads over to the corner, where, after a few words, TNT is the first one to enter the ring. On the other side, Hearford steps out to start off the match.

*DING DING DING*

“Well, TNT and the Judge to start it off, and this should be a fantastic bout.”

Both men walk out to the middle of the ring, and the Judge quickly goes for a lock up, but TNT backs away and fires off a hard elbow, nailing Hearford in the forehead. TNT doesn’t stop, and tries to take an early advantage, popping off another elbow which knocks the Judge back again. Hearford recovers quickly, though, and fires off a hard knife-edged chop (“WHOO!”) into TNT’s chest. He gives him another chop (“WHOO!”), and Thompson responds with one of his own (“WHOO!”). He continues (“WHOO!”) with the chopping (“WHOO!”), knocking him (“WHOO!”) backwards into the ropes, where he promptly grabs Hearford’s wrist and hurls him at the other side of the ropes. TNT bounces off the ropes himself, and leaps up as the veteran approaches and nails him with a big flying forearm! Hearford hits the mat, but he’s not down for long as he rolls right back up to his feet, and he backs away from TNT for a moment.

“It looks like Thompson’s going the smart way here, keeping the Judge away from him with strikes and staying out of lockups where Hearford can quickly take the advantage.”

The Judge goes in again for a lock up, and TNT is more than willing to oblige him, getting into the collar-and-elbow tie up. Hearford tries to do a duck under, but TNT is able to catch him, getting a front headlock on him. He gets ready to bring him to the ground, but the Judge powers out of the hold, taking the arm and pulling it back for a Hammerlock! He forces TNT onto his tippy-toes as he pulls the arm upwards, but the World Champion does a duck-under of his own, taking control of the hammerlock and waisting no time as he puts his other arm around Hearford’s waist and lifts him over for a Hammerlock Suplex! The crowd gives a small cheer for TNT using one of the Judge’s trademark suplexes against him.

TNT gets back up as the Judge lies on the ground holding his arm and grimacing from the pain in his back. He brings him up again, but Hearford tosses the Champ’s arm to the side and delivers a hard chop with his good arm. TNT doesn’t take a step back, and nails one of his own, pushing the Judge back a step. Hearford doesn’t give up, and goes for another one, but TNT backs up out of the way, and he quickly rushes in, putting his arm under the Judge’s and kicking his legs out with lightning speed!

“POWER NITRO DRIVAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!”

“Shut up, you Puro wanna-be! Thompson is NOT supposed to be this good!” Whines Bobbie as TNT makes the cover.

ONE!

TWO!

T-KICKOUT!

The Judge kicks out with some strength left in him, and TNT lifts him off the ground and puts him in a lockup. Thompson gets control again, giving the Judge a knee and getting around back of him and locks in a Half Nelson for one of his own trademark suplexes. But Hearford breaks out of the Half Nelson and nails an elbow right into TNT. He executes his own standing switch, but rather than going for a waistlock he takes a page out of Tom’s book, grabbing him at the ankles and takes him right off his feet. Sufficiently tired, he rushes over and makes a quick tag to Tom rather than following up.

TNT gets back up to his feet, but Tom is right on top of him, coming in with a big running shotei that nails Thompson in the chest and knocks him backwards. Tom goes in again, nailing another and another shotei on the briefly stunned World Champion. But he doesn’t stay like that for long, throwing an elbow to break up Flesher’s streak. He gets into a lock up but Flesher instinctively ducks under the larger man’s grip and goes for a waistlock. TNT tries throwing a few elbows, which knocks Tom off him and he executes a standing switch. Tom tries to sandbag against it, but TNT has enough strength on his side to lift him up and over for a German Suplex! He bridges it for the pin…

ONE!

TW-KICKOUT!

Tom gives a strong kick out, breaking the bridge. He rolls up to his feet, as does TNT, and this time the champ goes to strike him again with an elbow. Tom ducks under it, and nails TNT in the chest with a hard Shotei. He follows up, firing off two more shotei before spinning around and clobbering him with a big Roaring Shotei! TNT falls to the ground, and Tom wastes no time in throwing TNT into the corner. He follows him quickly, and puts the slightly dazed World Champion on the second rope.

“You are kidding, right? He’s not trying for a Boilermaker NOW.”

“Of course! He’s just going to educate TNT on how it is really done.”

He goes and tries to lift TNT up, but TNT goes “NO POBO~!”, and he only gets an inch or so off the turnbuckle before Thompson breaks the hold and pushes him off the turnbuckle. TNT jumps off and goes towards ELM, making the tag as Tom gets right back his feet. TNT tags out to ELM, who immediately comes in and nails Tom with a flying forearm. He nails him right to the ground, and he rolls right back up again only to be nailed down with another forearm smash! The crowd goes up in decibel levels as gets Tom as he gets back up to his feet with a shotei to his chest. Flesher back peddles, and ELM puts an arm around his head before bringing him to the ground with a big DDT! Tom goes to the ground holding his head, and ELM pulls Flesher back up again. But Flesher throws off ELM’s arms and locks up with him, and he ducks under, isolating one of the arms and putting ELM in a draining abdominal stretch! Tom pushes back on the arm, stretching ELM out like a tanned hide. He reaches back with his free arm and grabs the ropes, pulling on them to increase the pressure on ELM. The ref quickly moves around sees Tom doing this, and immediately orders him to break the hold.

“Well, it looks like Flesher got caught pretty quickly there.” Notes Grand Slam as Tom lets go of ELM and begins getting in the refs’ face about how he’s officiating the match. Meanwhile, the Judge reaches into his kneepad, procuring the Memphis chain from it’s hiding spot, and sneaks up on the apron behind the recovering ELM and reaches around, choking ELM with the chain!

“Bwuahahaha! Bait and switch, boyo! Tom wanted to get caught so the Judge could choke the little sucker out. See, now THAT’S teamwork.”

Tom keeps the ref adequately distracted as Hearford pulls back hard with the chain, draining the breath out of the former World Champion’s lungs. Tom smiles as he sees Hearford let the nearly asphyxiated Mags go, tucking the chain away again, and he stops his arguing with the ref to go back to his foe. He pulls Mag and quickly gives him a kick to the stomach, doubling him over and allowing him to underhook his arms for a punishing Unprettier! ELM lies on the ground as Tom turns him over and puts his hands on his chest for the count.

ONE!

TWO!

KICKOUT!

The crowd gives sigh of relief as ELM barely gets a shoulder up, and Tom just shrugs, pulling him up off the ground and dragging him over to the corner to make the tag to the Judge. Hearford quickly goes through the ropes and gets a lock up on the smaller ELM, immediately sweeping his arm around to cinch a headlock, taking ELM right to the ground. The bigger man grinds his arm into the head of the Mexican, causing a grunt of discomfort from the smaller man. He tries to get up at first, but the sheer size of the Judge is enough to keep him on the ground again.

“LET’S GO E-L-M! CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP! LET’S GO E-L-M! CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP!”

The crowd begins to rally around him, and he begins to get up to his feet. Hearford tries to wrench him down, but the 3-Time World Champion will not be denied, and he rises first to his knees, and then slides up to his feet. He begins backing up towards the rope, and with both hands he shoves the veteran right off and sends him right off towards the other side! ELM comes to the center of the ring, leapfrogging the Judge as he comes back the first time, and he turns around as he lands and lines up a Superkick… that the Judge ducks under! He goes and hits the other side, and as ELM recovers he is nailed to the ground with a big clothesline! With ELM on the ground, Hearford flips him over onto his belly and grab ELM around the chin, pulling him into a Camel Clutch!

“The Judge has a Camel Clutch locked in, and ELM is just being tortured by these two sadists.”

“Oh, come on. It’s just a bit of harmless fun.”

“Harmless? Ask ELM how harmless it is.”

“Pfft. I wasn’t talking about ELM, you moron.”

ELM struggles in the hold, trying to break the grip, but before he can, Tom calls out to the Judge, telling him to point him more towards him. Hearford does as asked, shifting ELM’s face around towards Tom, who steps through the ropes and gets a small jog going before going low and nailing a dropkick right on ELM’s face! The crowd boos massively, and the ref orders Hearford to break the hold immediately. The Judge does so, and he pulls Magnifico up into a half nelson and drags him over to his corner, tagging in Tom and giving him a free shot at Mags.

He gives ELM a stiff shotei blow the head, letting the Judge let go of him and sending Mags reeling backwards. Taking his chance, he grabs the Luchadore ‘round the waist and hurls him overhead! THUD! ELM hits the mat hard after being nailed by the Railgun Suplex. He arches his back up, and Flesher simply rolls back up to his feet and pulls him up by his mask. He whips him towards one of the neutral corners, and ELM hits with a crack, but he doesn’t even have time to stumble out as Flesher immediately goes to work on his chest, nailing him with hard knife-edged chops, though the crowd doesn’t exactly respond the normal way.

CHOP!

BOO!

CHOP!

BOO!

CHOP!

BOO!

CH-But ELM gets enough strength in him to block the blow with his forearm! He steps out of the turnbuckle, nailing Flesher with a chop (“WHOO!”) right across his chest, getting a big cheer from the crowd! He nails another chop (“WHOO!”), and another (“WHOO!”), putting all his strength into these blows. But he tries for one chop too many, as an angry and far fresher Flesher comes back with a hard shotei, nearly knocking him off his feet. He grabs ELM by his mask and begins to drag him closer towards the heel corner… but before he makes the tag off, Mags gets a burst of energy, spinning around, grabbing Tom’s arms, and chickenwinging them before dropping to his knees, crushing Flesher’s teeth against his shoulder!

“Montezuma’s Revenge on Flesher!” Mark yells as Flesher hits the mat holding his jaw. “This could give Mags a chance to get to make the tag!”

“Don’t think so, buddy boy,” says Riley, pointing into the ring where Tom quickly reaches out and slaps the Judge’s hand, allowing the old man to slip through the ropes and rush towards the scrambling ELM. “Tom brought him close enough to make an easy tag to Hearford! It looks like the Border Police are gonna catch this one before he gets across the Rio Grande…”

Bobbie hits the nail on the as ELM tries to get to his tag partner, but Hearford gets to him before he even gets within a few feet of Thompson, picking him up off the ground in a waistlock. ELM tries to break the grip of the cranky council, and when that fails, he throws a few hard elbows back. But the Judge is not to be denied, and he picks the little luchadore up and plants him right on his back for a German Suplex. He bridges the painful move out, and ref comes in for the quick count.

ONE!

TWO!

KICKOUT!

“Hearford hits a big German, but ELM is still able to kick out.”

With a massive yank, Hearford throws the Carnie leader towards the ropes, and he waits not too far away, preparing for a power slam. But before ELM hits the other side he leaps up onto the ropes as the Judge stands there, stunned at the maneuver as the little luchadore springs off, clinching his arm around Hearford’s head and twisting down to the mat for an incredible Springboard DDT! The crowd goes absolutely wild at the crazy maneuver, but they begin to quiet down as they see both men still on the ground. Magnifico is the first to regain his senses, and slowly begins crawling in TNT’s direction.

“ELM nails a Springboard Tornado DDT on the Judge, but both men are down!” Yells Stevens as the Judge is left lying on the ground holding his head with his arms, but he begins to try and catch the former World Champ.s

“Christ, Judge, don’t just lie there!” Yells Riley, “Let’s see some activist shit from this court, damn it!”

Magnifico drags himself toward the corner, as the crowd begins to cheer louder and louder. He inches along, with William Hearford stunned and trying to regain his senses. Magnifico inches closer… closer…

“He’s going to make the tag!” shouts Stevens.

“Shut up, shut up! It’s not happening if I can’t hear you!”

Magnifico lunges for the corner…

But William Hearford reaches out and grabs an ankle! He shakes off the cobwebs, and to a chorus of boos from the crowd, he drops an elbow into the pit of El Luchadore Magnifico’s knee!

“He did it! WOOHOO! William Hearford saves the day!” Bobby Riley is ecstatic.

With that, Hearford simply smirks and drags Magnifico back to the center of the ring. Flesher looks on from his corner, nodding and shouting instructions. Hearford grabs the Luchadore by the arm, yanks him to his feet and then whips him to the ropes. As ELM rebounds, Hearford catches him and sends him overhead with a hip toss. Magnifico hits the mat hard, and the Judge drops down onto him with a quick elbow drop for

ONE!

TWO!

KICKOUT! Magnifico kicks out just a split second before the official’s hand would hit the mat for the third count and end the match, but the Judge stays on him to try to secure a fall. He wallops the Magnificent Luchadore with a pair of fists to the face, and then covers him again. The referee counts

ONE!

TWO!

THR- KICKOUT!!!!!!! Hearford looks up at Flesher, who waves him to the corner and shouts for him to bring Magnifico with him.

“Uh oh,” says Stevens. “It looks like Flesher thinks the Judge isn’t doing a good enough job of taking out the former World Champion.”

“Oh, you’re always trying to sow seeds of discontent,” whines Riley. “Why can’t you just let Flesher be in charge once in a while without trying to tell the world that he’s holding down the rest of the stable?”

“You mean the way he wasn’t holding Frost out of the World Title picture?”

“There’s no reliable evidence of that.”

“But he-”

“Just show me a paper trail and I’ll be convinced,” says Riley with an air of finality. He then pauses for a moment, and adds, “Notarized.”

Stevens grumbles as William Hearford takes hold of Magnifico’s arm and jerks it toward the corner. He pivots and, with a powerful Irish whip, sends Mags careening toward the corner. Flesher backs away, and Magnifico hits the turnbuckles at full force! As the loud THWUNK echoes through the arena, Hearford runs in right after him and nails him with a lariat! With the Judge backing away due to the impact, Flesher reaches over the top rope and slaps him on the shoulder, tagging himself in. He ducks through the ropes, and William Hearford exits stage left to the outside. Flesher enters, struts for a few moments, and soaks in the boos of the crowd.

“Why does Flesher even bother to tag in if he’s not going to take advantage of the situation?” says Stevens. “All he’s doing is playing to the crowd!”

“Just giving the people what they paid for, Mark,” replies Riley. “Just giving the people what they paid for.”

Flesher struts into the corner, where Magnifico is trying to catch his breath. He looks the luchadore up and down, and then whacks him in the jaw with a palm strike! Magnifico’s head snaps back, and when he leans forward again, Flesher cracks him with another shotei! With the former World Champion stunned, the Superior One wraps him into a bearhug, and then sits him on the top rope. The fans begin to boo as Flesher climbs up, rope by rope.

“What’s he going for?” asks Stevens.

Flesher looks over his shoulder, and plants his feet on the top rope. He looks directly at World Champion Taylor Nicholas Thompson, who simply glares back. With that, Flesher turns back to El Luchadore Magnifico… and slaps on a front facelock.

“It’s Boilermaker time!” shouts Riley, about ready to pee himself. “This’ll show that pretender to the throne who’s REALLY boss in the SWF!”

“So Flesher, who lost to Magnifico, is the boss, and TNT, who beat him twice consecutively, is the pretender to the throne?”

Pause.

“How about I give you a big can of shut the hell up?”

“Thought so.”

Flesher tightens his front facelock on Magnifico and starts to lift him skyward… but the luchadore hooks his feet on the ropes! Flesher tries again, oblivious to the situation. ELM keeps his legs hooked under the top rope, and when Flesher loosens the hold to look at what’s keeping him from executing his avalanche-style brainbuster, Magnifico seizes the opportunity and nails him in the face with a straight right hand! The Superior One loses his balance, and as he tries to regain his footing while standing on the top ropes, Magnifico leans forward and just shoves him off! The fans burst into cheers as Flesher falls to the mat and lands hard! He doesn’t get up immediately, instead laying on the mat holding his back and wincing. Riley gasps out loud, but El Luchadore Magnifico simply stands up on the top rope, looks down at Flesher, and raises his arms into the air. The fans, knowing what’s coming, begin to cheer.

“Mexican Pride!” shouts “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens. “Magnifico counters the Boilermaker, and here comes the Mexican Pride Press!”

Magnifico takes a deep breath, still not quite recovered from the assault he’s taken in the match. He jumps up for his shooting star press… but collapses to the mat instead when William Hearford snags his ankle and keeps his jump from taking him anywhere! With a SPLAT, Magnifico lands on the mat, and Flesher, with a look of pain on his face, rolls over and onto his knees.

“That rat bastard!” fumes Stevens, in an odd moment of crudeness. “William Hearford just kept El Luchadore Magnifico from hitting what was sure to be a pin!”

“Yeah, well, that’s what Magnifico gets for trying a high-risk move from his opponents’ corner. I mean, Christ, how stupid can you be?”

“That doesn’t change that what Hearford did was plainly illegal! How did the referee miss it?”

Flesher gets back to his feet, moving slowly and with his ease of motion obviously limited by his sore back. Nevertheless, he grabs the stunned Magnifico in a front facelock and drags him to the center of the ring. He tightens up the front chancery hold and starts to lift Magnifico up again, but can’t get him up! He pauses, relaxing the hold to grab at his back once more. Sensing a moment of weakness, Magnifico lets his instinct take over. He turns just a few degrees, tightening his side of the chancery hold, and arches backwards. With a THUD, he slams Flesher to the mat with a snap suplex! The Superior One once again grabs at his back, and while he’s occupied, Magnifico pops back to his feet, then lunges for the corner! He reaches…

reaches…

reaches….

SLAP!!!!!!!!

The fans pop like a cherry on prom night as TNT charges into the ring, a house of fire! Bellowing out loud, he sets his sights on Tom Flesher, who lays on the mat clutching his back with his eyes widening to roughly the size of dinner plates. He scoots backwards, holding his hands up and doing his best to beg off, but the World Champion answers that with a simple, stiff, silent boot to the chest! Flesher hits the mat, but TNT grabs him and pulls him back to his feet, only to slam him back to the mat with a mammoth clothesline that sends Flesher backwards in a full reverse somersault and ends with him laying dazed on his stomach. TNT rolls Flesher over and drops onto him for a cover. The referee counts

ONE!

TWO!

THRE- SHOULDER UP!!!!!!! Flesher starts to move toward the corner, where the Judge is leaning forward while simultaneously… er… adjusting his left kneepad. As soon as he gets everything nicely adjusted, he jumps through the ropes and tries to distract TNT. The official shoves Hearford backwards, but the Judge simply pushes forward and slaps Taylor across the face! TNT doesn’t take the affront well, and pushes the official aside to grab at Hearford! The Judge willingly locks up with TNT, and as the referee tries to separate the two, Hearford drops something out of his hand to Flesher. Then, as TNT pushes into him, the Judge begins to back off passively. With Magnifico still out of it in the corner, Flesher very carefully arranges his hands and gets back to his feet. The referee ushers “Judge Mental” out of the ring. As soon as the official turns his back, Flesher steps forward and sucker punches TNT in the jaw! The World Champion collapses, and Flesher drags him over to the corner.

“What just happened?!” cries Mark Stevens. “How did the World Champion go down to just one punch?”

“Flesher’s powerful,” says Riley evasively. “Now shut up and stop asking questions.”

The camera shows a small chain still wrapped around Flesher’s fist.

Moving as fast as he can, Flesher grabs TNT by the waist and hoists him up onto the top rope. Then, he scrambles as quickly as he can to the top rope, stopping only to pass the chain behind TNT’s back to William Hearford. With that, Flesher grabs TNT in a front facelock, plants his feet on the top rope and arches back. Within seconds, Flesher lands back-first, and Taylor Nicholas Thompson’s head crashes to the canvas with the Boilermaker! The official drops down to the mat and counts

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DING DING DING!!!!!!

Before Funyon can announce the winner, Hearford re-enters the ring. They drag the motionless TNT to the corner, and with reckless abandon, they begin to kick and punch him mercilessly.

“What are they doing?” screams Stevens. “This is completely uncalled for!”

March 22, 2003

As TNT sits against the corner, completely defenseless, Flesher and Mental mercilessly stomp away at Taylor’s gut, preventing him from moving out of his rather undesirable position. Meanwhile, Magnifico leans up against the corner on the other side of the ring, stunned and currently unable to assist his tag partner. As Tom and Judge continue their attack, the fans boo their little hearts out, obviously displeased with the post-match antics of the vicious heels.

Stevens: Dammit, isn’t there anything that can be done here to help TNT?! The man is completely defenseless, for God’s sake!

Riley: Well, probably, but then we’d all be derived of seeing Taylor getting the piss beaten out of him. I don’t think that’s a responsibility you want on your shoulders, Stevens.

Suddenly, Flesher brings his stomping to a quick halt and says something to Mental, who nods in agreement. Tom and Judge then each grab an arm and pull Taylor to his feet, before leading him into the center of the ring. Mental delivers a stiff kick to TNT’s gut, immediately doubling him over, before applying a Standing Head-Scissors, immediately drawing an anticipatory wave of heat from the audience. Using every bit of his strength, Mental hoists Taylor into the air and onto his shoulders, while Flesher reaches up and wraps his arm around TNT’s neck, setting him up for the Overruled!

Stevens: C’mon, that’s enough! Flesher and Mental are about to hit Taylor with the Overruled, one of Justice and Rule’s most deadly double-team moves!

Riley: Now THIS is how you do a beatdown! A few minutes of dehabilitating kicks and stomps, capped off by a vicious and possibly neck-breaking finisher!

Despite the severity of the situation, the fans suddenly begin to cheer, greatly confusing both Mental and Flesher! Tom looks around to see what the crowd could be cheering about, when he catches a glimpse of CIA sprinting down the entrance ramp, steel chair in hand! Almost immediately, Flesher and Mental release TNT, allowing him to fall limply to the mat as Tom and Judge hit the canvas and quickly roll out of the ring. They do so just as CIA slides into the ring and pops to his feet, angrily shouting curses at the cowardly competitors. He throws the chair to the mat and charges the ring, leaning over them to verbally abuse Mental and Flesher some more as they pause at the bottom of the rope, glaring at CIA with untold hatred.

Stevens: Yes! CIA makes his presence known just in time, as Flesher and Mental forget about Taylor and scramble out of the ring!

Riley: Goddamit! He’s just a lousy Canadian with a chair! Get back in there and fight!

CIA is so involved in shouting at Tom and Judge that he doesn’t even notice Magnifico pulling himself out of the corner and to his feet. ELM casts a tired glance at CIA, before catching sight of the steel chair laying right behind him. Magnifico looks between the two for a second, before heading over to the steel chair and picking it up. As ELM holds the chair in his hands, he examines it closely, a blank and emotionless look on his face. Magnifico then turns back to CIA, who is slowly turning around, oblivious to ELM’s presence. As he turns, Magnifico slowly lifts the chair, and as their eyes meet, he suddenly drives it forward...

...and absolutely wallops CIA with the steel chair, driving it into his face and immediately knocking him to the mat. Magnifico drops the chair, allowing it to unceremoniously fall to the mat. The soft clang that occurs when the chair hits the mat is the only thing that can be heard, as the fans sit in shocked silence, almost refusing to believe what they just saw. Even the commentators are bewildered, as they can barely seem to make sense of the situation.

Stevens:...I...I don’t know what to say...Magnifico just...just bashed in the face of his own stablemate...

The audience finally seems to understand what’s happening, as they break our into angry, MASSIVE booing, just as Flesher and Mental slide back into the ring, smirking smugly as they do so. Judge and Tom pop to their feet, and stand in front of Magnifico for a moment as they crowd waits on baited breath to see what’s about to happen. Suddenly, Flesher steps forward and embraces the luchadore, immediately drawing the ire of the crowd! Mental follows suit as Magnifico grins an evil grin, absolutely loving this moment of realization. As Judge releases ELM, the three men turn to CIA and begin to stomp away at him in unison, joyously beating down the betrayed Canadian to the great displeasure of the audience.

Riley: I think we all realize now what is happening, and I, for one, absolutely love it!

Stevens: How can you say that, Riley?! CIA’s trust was completely abused by Magnifico, who turned on him after he came down to help the luchadore!

Riley: Well, that’s one way to look at it. Another is that Magnifico has finally seen the error of his ways and is switching to the glorious side of cheating and underhandedness!

The trio of stomping suddenly stops as Mental and Flesher grab CIA by the arms and quickly pull him to his feet. Judge restarts the setup to the Overruled, as he swiftly maneuvers CIA into a Standing Head-Scissors and hoists the Canadian onto his shoulders! Flesher reaches up to grab CIA around the neck, but Magnifico suddenly waves him off, signaling to himself and compelling Tom for the chance to do the honors. Flesher is more than happy to comply, as he steps to the side and allows Magnifico to reach up and wrap his arm around CIA’s neck in a Reverse Headlock! Judge then throws CIA off of his shoulders and to the side, while Magnifico uses his grip to twist the Canadian’s body around and slam his neck into the canvas with the Overruled! The anger emanating from the audience is incredible in its intensity and volume, and only grows more so when Magnifico pops to his feet and sarcastically plays to the crowd, smirking a despicable smirk as he does so.

Stevens: No! No! Overruled on CIA! Magnifico and Judge absolutely nailed the Canadian with the Overruled, but I just can’t believe that ELM is actually doing this!

Riley: Believe it, baby! My heart swells with pride for Magnifico, whose actions are a credit to all of heeldom!

ELM, Flesher, and Mental begin to kick away at CIA’s limp body, doing so until Magnifico catches a glimpse of TNT, who has begun pushing himself to his feet. He quickly gets Judge and Flesher to stop stomping CIA and quickly shares a plan of action with the two men. Tom and Judge nod in agreement, grinning anxiously as they do so. Mental heads over to TNT and grabs him from behind, pulling him to his feet and locking him in a Full Nelson as Flesher heads over to the steel chair and picks it up. Tom then stands to the side of Taylor and holds the chair in front of his face, immediately drawing a wave of boos from the live audience! Standing in front of TNT, Magnifico suddenly leaps into the air and kicks out his feet, driving them into the steel chair and, in turn, the chair into Taylor’s face! TNT hits the mat like a two hundred and sixty pound rag doll, his body completely lifeless after being hit by the Spanish Conquestor!

Stevens: This is just sick! Neither CIA or TNT have any way to defend themselves, and these men are taking complete advantage of that! CIA and Taylor both look like they’ve been knocked out!

As Magnifico pops back to his feet, the three men share a quick laugh, standing over Taylor’s limp body and mocking him cruelly. Just as they’re about to resume their attack, another wave of cheers comes suddenly and unexpectedly from the crowd, as the fans have just caught sight of Frost barreling down the ramp, his teeth gritted in anger and determination! As Magnifico, Mental, and Flesher catch sight of the pissed-off Icelandian, they immediately forget about CIA and scramble out of the ring, hitting the floor as Frost slides into the ring! As ELM, Judge, and Tom regroup at the bottom of the ramp, Frost rushes over to TNT and tends to his fallen friend, his expression melting into one of concern and frustration. He suddenly turns to TNT’s attackers, unspeakable hate burning in his eyes as they laugh at the condition of Taylor and of CIA.

Stevens: Ladies and gentlemen, we have run out of time for tonight, but please tune into SWF Lockdown, where we can hopefully get an explanation of what has happened tonight...for the SWF, I’m Mark Stevens...good night.

The final image broadcasted before the show fades into nothingness is El Luchadore Magnifico, Judge Mental, and Tom Flesher raising their locked hands as they back up the entrance ramp, drawing a final round of heartbroken boos from the audience...

SWF Storm! 3-21-2003

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