SWF Lockdown!

[Guest Grand Slam]

First there was nothing.

 

Then there was Lockdown.

 

Blue and white pyros explode all over the arena as the fans leap to their feet and cheer for the arrival of the SWF's flagship show! The camera pans through the arena, showing fans holding up signs such as "I'm Here To See Frost," "Black Pyro and Beerhugs" and "S**pended?! What the F**k?!" The camera then settles on the SmarkTron, with Bobby Riley and Mark Stevens sitting in front of it. Riley is dressed to the nines, clad in an expensive-looking tuxedo complete with a black bowler hat. Mark Stevens bellows, "Welcome to SWF LOCKDOWN!" as the fans' cheers begin to subside.

 

"Bobby," he says after a moment, "What are yo all dressed up for?"

 

"Oh, MAN, am I excited. I have in my left side pocket an invitation to the Magnificent Seven's victory party for Tom Flesher! It's going to be held at the hotel all the wrestlers are staying at, and here's the best part: Open bar!"

 

"I didn't know you were much of a drinker."

 

"Oh, don't touch the stff. But I'm hoping I can get Flesher a little tipsy..."

 

"Stop right there. This is a family show!"

 

"Standards for what constitutes a family are getting more and more liberal these days, Mark."

 

Stevens clears his throat. "Uh... well..."

 

"Let's go to Funyon!" says Riley with a broad grin.

 

The SmarkTron wipes itself clean, glowing a gleaming white. As the words "SUPERIORITY COMPLEX," "MAGNIFICENT SEVEN" and "WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION" fade onto it in thin blue lettering, Funyon announces, "Ladies and gentlemen, a few minutes with your SWF World Heavyweight Champion, TOM FLESHERRRRRRRR!"

 

The familiar blue explosion goes off, filling the arena with smoke and fireworks. However, instead of "Kashmir," another song slowly starts to swell over the speakers.

 

"I've paid my dues....

Time after time...

I’ve done my sentence

And committed no crime

 

And bad mistakes? I’ve made a few.

I’ve had my share of fat kicks in my face….

 

 

… but I’ve come through!

 

 

 

WEEEEEEEE ARE THE CHAMMMMMPIONNSSSSSS, MY FRIE-ENDDDDDDDDDD

 

 

 

 

AND WEEEEEEE'LL KEEP ON FIGHTING… TILL THE ENDDDDDDDDD!

 

 

We Are The Champions, We Are The Champions!

 

No time for losers cuz We Are The Champions….

 

 

OF THE WORLD!"

 

 

 

As the chorus fills the arena, Tom Flesher steps through the curtain clad in a white Magnificent Seven polo shirt and jeans, with the big, gold SWF World Title belt wrapped around his waist. Flesher crosses his arms, leaning back and smirking as he looks out at the booing crowd, and then up at the SmarkTron.

 

Instead of his usual entrance video, the SmarkTron shows half-second clips from different angles of Flesher hitting the Ego Trip on Taylor Nicholas Thompson alternating with the words "SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION," clips of Mark Hebner counting the fall, and the phrase "END OF KING'S ROAD."

 

After watching the video for just long enough to be annoying, Flesher begins his stride to the ring. The camera zooms in to show the TOM FLESHER nameplate screwed onto the belt just as the World Champion climbs up the stairs. He wipes his feet on the apron, then ducks into the ring. Funyon offers him the microphone, but Flesher shoos him away, saying, "Just drop it, I don't want to touch you." Funyon, shill that he is, complies, and Flesher picks the mic up.

 

"Friends, country-" Flesher begins his speech, but before he can even finish the second word, the fans start to drown him out with a "YOU SUCK DICK! YOU SUCK DICK!" chant. Flesher nods, good-naturedly giving a "let's get on with it" hand gesture. Eventually, the crowd quiets down.

 

"Well, that was-" Once again, as Flesher begins to speak the crowd interrupts him. "YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE! *clap clap clapclapclap* YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE! *clap clap clapclapclap*" Once again, the World Champion tries to move things along, nodding and wearing a small smile.

 

"You know," he says, "it's a real shame that you choose to find me so... offensive. Why, you ask? Because I don't give a damn what you think of me, and whether you like it or not, I'm going to be in charge of this fed for a long, long time. You're all going to have to deal with me for as long as I want to hold on to this belt. That's because, quite simply, I am superior to everyone in the SWF."

 

The fans groan at Flesher’s old Superior routine, but he ignores them. “It’s so easy to see it. I just don’t get why you don’t understand. Who are the top guys in the SWF today? After me, of course. You’ve got El Luchadore Magnifico… he’s my boy. We’re running the whole damn show today, Magnificent Seven style. And besides him? Who comes after Magnifico? Taylor Nicholas Thompson. TNT. I don’t think there’s any need for me to prove I’m better than him. I think the result can stand on its own.”

 

Flesher pauses.

 

“Aw hell, just roll the clip again.”

 

 

He turns to the SmarkTron once again, smirking proudly.

 

TNT gets on the bottom turnbuckle, but Flesher shoves him away. TNT comes in closer, but the Superior One reaches down and clobbers him with a shotei to the temple, and immediately follows it up with an unforgiving kick to the throat! TNT sputters and coughs, giving Flesher just enough time to grab him by the dreadlocks and spin him around to face the center.

 

Riley gasps.

 

Stevens is silent.

 

The crowd doesn’t know what to do.

 

 

 

 

 

Flesher sure does.

 

He plants his knee into the back of TNT’s head, holding on to the dreadlocks for leverage. He leaps off the top rope, seeming to go in slow motion as he arcs through the air.

 

The Ego Trip…

 

Desperation….

 

 

 

Destiny.

 

 

He lands hard on top of TNT, slamming the Champion face first into the mat. Flesher tucks as he comes down, rolling over with the momentum. Taylor Thompson just lays face-down.

 

Flesher crawls over, rolling TNT to his back and looking with his one good eye up at Mark Hebner. The senior official drops to the mat and counts….

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!!!

 

 

 

No shoulder up. No rope break. No kickout.

 

 

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

 

 

Flesher looks up, wide-eyed, at Mark Hebner. He’s absolutely dumbfounded. His jaw hangs open as he looks down at the fallen World Champion.

 

 

 

… fallen former World Champion.

 

With a grin, Flesher resumes his soapboxing. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing that video clip… watching that dreadlocked special ed kid get his face smashed into the mat. I like to think that maybe, just maybe, I knocked some sense into him with that. But if nothing else, I proved to him, to you and to the rest of the world that I’m the number one man in the business… not just last week, not just today, but now and always.”

 

Flesher takes a few steps, stopping to collect his thoughts. “And you know, the saddest part of all of that is that there are always going to be people here who want to argue with me about that. You’ve got your angry young men like, say, Mak Francis, guys who just don’t know any better than to think they can compete with me. You’ve got your never-say-die Rudy types like Xero, who think they have something to gain by getting suplexed and stretched out by someone who’s just that many orders of magnitude better than they can ever hope to be. And then you’ve got your garden-variety retards line TNT and Frost.”

 

“Now, see, with TNT, it’s understandable. He thinks that I slighted him somehow, and, I guess, he’s working on the theory that being snubbed makes you a better wrestler. Don’t ask me, I don’t understand people who can barely work a zipper. I don’t even pretend to understand people who, for some reason, think their god damn tacos and bourbon are more important than taking care of their stablemates… and believe me, god KNOWS I don’t understand people who get so angry when two perfectly good newcomers like Bill and Ejiro upstage them, wrestle circles around them and just generally make them look stupid.”

 

“Tell me, Frost, does it make you feel good to know that you were a fifth wheel in the Magnificent Seven? Is that why you left? Did you finally get it after six months in the stable? Or are you still convinced that I was just trying to get under your skin when Bill and Ejiro got all the good hotel reservations? Christ, Frost, even Danny Williams got a better rental car than you did. Was I just being a prick? Hell no. I was trying to drop a hint. I was trying to tell you as politely as possible what a horrible embarrassment you are not only to the stable, not only to the sport of wrestling, but to the whole damn human race.”

 

The fans boo loudly, some bursting into a “FROST! FROST! FROST!” chant, but Flesher continues unabated. “But you know what, Frost? I don’t care. And this goes for anyone in the SWF. TNT, Frost, Jay Dawg… hell, bring Nielsen out of suspension to face me. I don’t care. I’ll defend the title against anyone and everyone… but just know when you sign the contract, boys, that you’re not going to get off easy. No, you’re going to leave the ring embarrassed that you ended the night counting lights, or ashamed that you tapped out like a seven-year-old girl. You can come and try to get me… but I’m just that much better than you can ever hope to be. And if you don’t see that, well, I’ll be more than happy to help you.”

 

With that, “Kashmir” explodes over the speakers. Above the loud boos and “FROST!” chants from the crowd, Tom Flesher steps out of the ring and struts toward the back.

 

“How about that?” grins Riley.

 

“That sounded like an open challenge to me,” says Stevens. “Flesher says he’s a fighting champion, but what’s going to happen when he gets into the ring with someone as talented, and as angry, as Frost? We’ll find out soon enough…. But for now, fans, we need to take a quick commercial break. We’ll be back with more SWF Lockdown after this!”

[Guest Grand Slam]

At the end of the commercial break, the Mellon Arena fades back into existence cheering and waving their signs around like mad. Inside the ring stands Xero, an impressive bald man with taped wrists and Gi pants with flames rising up from the ankles. He pulls hard on the ring ropes to test their strength. Outside the ring, Funyon sorts his notecards to announce the next match as Bobby Riley and "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens sit at their commentator positions.

 

"I am firmly convinced that this show possibly couldn't get any better than it has already! The heart-wrenching drama! The hilarious comedy! We should have just closed down shop and rerun that segment for the rest of our two hours tonight!" exclaims Riley.

 

"That's one idea," rebuts Stevens, "However I think our owners would like to keep viewers. We aren't a McMahon company after all. And with that, welcome back to S! W! F! Lockdown! We have a hell of a card for you..."

 

Mark Stevens gets interruptes as the arena goes dark. The SmarkTron erupts into flames as Rivers Cuomo's voice screams out into the crowd:

 

"I'LL BRING HOME THE TURKEY IF YOU BRING HOME THE BACON!"

 

Red fire engulfs the entire Lockdown entrance ramp, only to be replaced a split second later by a man wearing those same flames all over his body. In one hand is a microphone, which he brings up to his covered mouth and begins to sing in a robotic tone:

 

"I'M A LOT LIKE YOU, SO PLEASE... HELLO, I'M HERE, I'M WAAAAITING!

I THINK I'D BE GOOD FOR YOU, AND YOU, WOULD BE GOOD FOR ME!"

 

Beezel walks down the ramp, continuing to sing along to his own theme music, trying to get the crowd to sing along with him. Those who know "El Scorcho" by Weezer do so, while most of the rest simply clap along to make some sort of rhythm. Funyon clears his throat and speaks a bit louder than normal to ensure his words are heard...

 

"Our opening contest tonight is for one fall, with a fifteen minute time limit. First, already inside the ring, weighing in at two hundred ten pounds and hailing from Port Colborne, Ontario, Canada... XEEEROOO!"

 

The crowd pays little attention to the goateed man, prefering to watch the antics of the mystery man who is currently acting more like Fred Astaire than a professional wrestler by dancing up and down the ring steps opposite Xero.

 

"Who is this moron?" asks Riley, "Not to be disparaging, but this guy is a total flamer!"

 

"The irony... however the question is valid. No one knows who this man 'Beezel' is, except for that fact that he was once in the SWF," says Stevens.

 

 

"And his opponent," announces Funyon, "Hailing from Phoenix, Arizona and weighing in at two hundred five pounds, El Scorcho himself... BEEZEEEEEL!"

 

Beezel's music cuts off as he enters the ring. The official walks to Beezel and pats him down to check for any foreign weapons. Satisfied in his search he walks across the ring to do the same with Xero.

 

"What's this guy got to hide, anyway?" asks Riley.

 

"Who says he's hiding?" rebuts Stevens.

 

"Well when you're covered head to toe in flames and you mask your voice... I'd dare say you're hiding something."

 

DING DING DING

 

Xero rushes towards El Scorcho, but he puts his hand up palm towards Xero's face. Xero stops in his tracks in confusion, staring at his opponent. Beezel makes a deliberate motion, pulling at his tights right at a large flame. He then bends over, deliberatly staring at the flames on Xero's Gi pants. He then straightens up and crosses his arms, playing angry at the fact that they're both decorated in fire.

 

"Oh please, don't tell me he's going to get angry just because they're using the same motif!" exclaims Riley, "I mean, it's not totally the same, he's red on red and Xero is OBVIOUSLY red on black."

 

Xero gets tired of Beezel's stalling and throws a hard right hand. El Scorcho dodges out of the way and stomps his foot on the mat, pointing at Xero's waist then pointing downward. The crowd starts to chuckle at Beezel's antics.

 

"Now what?" asks Riley.

 

"I think Beezil wants Xero to change his attire," says Stevens, trying to hide a snicker.

 

Xero refuses to take the humiliation and throws another right towards Beezil, who sidesteps the blow and pokes Xero in the ribs. Xero swivels around and rushes towards El Scorcho, but gets tripped as Beezel sidesteps and keeps his foot out. Xero nearly falls on his face but recovers and stays on his feet. Enraged he turns around, and gets a hard roundhouse kick straight to the solarplexus! The wind gets completely knocked out of Xero's lungs and he's forced to double over in pain. Beezel runs to the ropes and rebounds, leaping into the air and wrapping his arms around Xero's throat. Beezel's weight drags Xero down with him, crashing to the mat in a bulldog!

 

"The mystery man starts out strong with a bulldog after one of the most vicious kicks I have seen in a while!" exclaims Stevens.

 

"Hard kick, whatever. Kicks mean nothing against someone as hardcore as Xero."

 

Beezel gets to his feet and takes a step back, allowing Xero to get up to one knee. Xero attempts to get up further but Beezel strikes with his foot to Xero's side. The crowd "ooooh"s at the sound of the strike which goes all the way to the back row. Beezil switches his stance and attacks the opposite side. Xero cringes in pain as the crowd reacts to the blow. Seeing his opponent slow to get up, Beezel runs to the ropes. On his return, he steps on Xero's bent knee and launches himself into the air. In mid air, Beezil twists himself and whips his foot right into the BACK OF XERO'S HEAD! The DDT King's head snaps forward as he falls face-first towards the mat.

 

"Shining Wizard! Xero's neck snapped back and forth like a rubber band and the DDT King goes down hard!" exclaims Stevens, "Fast start by the newcomer... returnee... whatever he is! ...oh, and a cover!"

 

O

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NO!

 

"Kickout by Xero!" yells Riley, "But no surprise really, who's going to go down for three to a flashy move like that?"

 

"Well, let's get you on one knee and put Beezil in front of you and see what happens," says Stevens.

 

"Pffft, he'd be on the ground and satiated in no time."

 

"Riley... shut up."

 

Beezel gets up and shoots himself towards the ropes, returning to leap up and land backfirst onto the prone Xero with a senton. Beezel drags Xero up to one knee and then rushes to the corner, climbing up to the top rope. The DDT King struggles but rises to his feet, swaying back and forth while holding his head in his hand.

 

"Xero looks to be feeling some ill effects from the Shining Wizard, and I'm not surprised, the impact from that kick looked deadly!" exclaims Stevens.

 

"I never knew you had a foot fetish, Mark. You're practically drooling," says Riley.

 

Mark looks at Bobby in complete confusion. "What the hell was that?" asks Stevens.

 

"Nothing."

 

Beezel steadies himself on the top rope, waiting for Xero to look for his opponent. Xero follows suit, realizing that Beezel is nowhere to be readily seen... until he looks up and catches his opponent leaping off the top rope. El Scorcho captures Xero's head between his legs and lets gravity pull his body down, forcing Xero's head and body to follow suit and drilling him head first into the mat! Beezel rolls up from the Hurricarana and slides over to make a cover but Xero shoots his fist upwards on pure reaction, catching El Scorcho off guard. Beezel falls back and tries to shake off the blow to the chin but Xero follows up by getting up to his knees and wrapping his hands around the high flyer's throat. The official begins to make a count... ONE... TWO... THREE... FOUR... and Xero breaks the hold and allows his opponent to crumple to the mat, breathless.

 

"Blatant rule breaking by Xero!" exclaims Stevens, speaking louder to get his voice over the booing from the crowd.

 

"What rule breaking? Xero released the hold at four, just like any good dirty fighter would do! Beezel should be glad that this isn't a hardcore match!" rebuts Riley.

 

Xero holds his head in pain and shakes it, trying to clear the cobwebs from the kick he took earlier. He takes advantage of his opponent being on the mat to kick him hard in the ribs. He takes a deliberate walk around Beezel to send another kick to the opposite side. Xero steps back and motions to the crowd that he'll kick a field goal with the high flyer's head, garnering a healthy round of boos from the audience. With that, the bald one rushes forward and kicks.... nothing but air as Beezel took the time to roll himself up enough to kipup and avoid the blow. Beezel spins Xero around to face him, but the quick thinking heel sends a thumb straight into the only uncovered spot on his body, his eye. El Scorcho raises his hands right to the wonded area as the official steps in and gives Xero another warning. The King of the DDT stumbles slightly, still feeling the effect of the shining wizard and gets in the referee's face, yelling in protest.

 

"Xero is getting yet another warning as to his rule breaking," says Stevens but gets interrupted by Riley immediatly.

 

"But is otherwise unscathed and stops from losing momentum. That's important, Mark and you know it."

 

"There are legal ways to keep momentum your way," offers Stevens.

 

"Yes, but how many ways are as fun as that?"

 

Xero chews out the referee some more before grabbing Beezel's arm and throws him roughly towards the ropes. On his opponent's rebound, Xero bends over for a back drop but the high flyer deftly leaps over him and continues onward. Xero spins around, planning on catching his opponent if he were to take flight, but Beezel goes low and does a baseball slide through his legs and pops up to his feet behind him! Xero spins around again, angered at his opponent's evasion. What he finds is Beezel standing with arms crossed and staring angrily through his mask. He then points to Xero's Gi pants and then points downwards toward the mat again.

 

"Come on Xero, smash this punk like the clown that he is!" yells Riley.

 

"You have no sense of humor Bobby. Just like whenever you get upset for me for calling you feminine. It's all a joke, man," says Stevens.

 

"Well... alright, when you put it that way."

 

"Exactly, it's just ribbing. Except for calling you a woman."

 

"HEY!"

 

 

The crowd begins laughing at the DDT King but Xero's groggy mind can't hear their laughs and jeers. His mind screams "ATTACK" as his body reacts by kicking Beezel in the gut. He then attempts an Irish whip to the corner but Beezel puts on brakes halfway through and reverses to try and send Xero to the turnbuckles instead. Xero puts on the brakes and reverses the whip but then reverses a second time to send Beezel toward the corner he was heading at the beginning of the exchange. El Scorcho finds himself heading toward the corner unprotected with an angry Xero at his heels. Thinking quickly, Beezel steps on the first rope, then on the second like a set of stairs and propells himself up and backwards, flipping over the chasing Xero who hits the corner face first! Beezel catches him as he staggers backwards from the impact and rolls Xero up and over himself. El Scorcho continues to roll until he bridges himself backwards over Xero in a pin combination! The crowd goes crazy for the feat of athleticism as the referee drops for the count...

 

 

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NO! Xero kicks out at the last possible instant!

 

"So close on the dazzling pin combination, and perhaps Beezel can retake the upper hand here," comments Stevens.

 

Beezel rushes to his feet and charges forward... but Xero is ready for him and uses his momentum to propel the high flyer through the ropes to the outside! El Scorcho crashes to the concrete outside in a sickening thud. Xero takes his cue to run to the opposite ropes and rush back and fly over the top rope and land a suicide splash on top of Beezel! Both men lie in a heap outside the ring as the official has no choice but to begin a count. Both men find ways to make it to their knees at two, but as Beezel struggles to get to his feet, Xero turns and reaches underneath the ring. Xero comes back up brandishing a Kendo Stick but gets little farther as Beezel superkicks him in the face at the count of six! The DDT King goes down fast, completely motionless as he hits the concrete. El Scorcho picks up Xero and rolls him back inside the ring just as the official reaches nine and breaks the count.

 

"Xero nearly collapsed with that blow! Every time he gets a little time to recover from the last kick to the head, he gets another right away! He might be out of it by now!" yells Stevens.

 

"But he's HARDCORE! No way a few wimpy kicks would do that to my man Xero!" screams Riley.

 

"Stronger men have fallen from less, but he brought it upon himself, distracting himself by going for a weapon... Hey, how did that Kendo Stick get under there?" asks Stevens.

 

"I'm sure it accidently found it's way there through the night's preparations," says Riley cooly.

 

"Right, Xero's favorite weapon just shows up underneath the ring. Makes perfect sense if you're in denial," rebuts Stevens.

 

"I don't know what you're talking about."

 

"My point is made."

 

Beezel looks at the weapon in contemplation, but shakes off the idea of cheating and rolls into the ring, right into Xero's waiting hands! Xero irish whips his opponent into the ropes, catching him on his return with a knee to the gut. Beezel rolls forward with the blow, landing on his knees and clutching at his ribs. Xero pulls Beezel up and forward, locking in a front face lock and snapping himself back voilently and DRILLING Beezel's head to the canvas! El Scorcho's body flips up and over from the momentum as he collapses to the middle of the mat, motionless. Xero gets up on one knee and looks at his fallen opponent, contemplating a pin. He shakes his head no, showing his decision by pointing to the top rope...

 

"What's Xero up to here?" asks Stevens.

 

"Ohh... oooh could it be? We haven't seen it in ages! ABSOLUTE XERO!" screams Riley, getting to near orgasmic pitch in his voice.

 

Ignoring the jeering of the crowd, Xero walks over to the ropes and begins to climb. He plants his feet firmly on the first rope, then the second before a wooziness overcomes him and he slips on the ropes. He falls, catching himself in a seated position on the second rope facing the crowd. The crowd laughs at his misstep and begins to yell "YOU F***ED UP! YOU F***ED UP!". Xero's face becomes red with anger. He gets himself untangled from the ropes and begins to climb anew. Xero makes it to the top rope, and slowly turns as to not fall off from his perch... but Beezel is up and races to the ropes! He hits the top rope and forces Xero to lose his footing and crotch himself up top! Beezel looks to the crowd and raises his fist in the air, followed by an exhuberant leap to the second rope in front of Xero...

 

"No dice for Xero who looks to still have symptoms from the first kick to the head he took earlier! And now Beezel has him on the top rope... might we see a superplex?" asks Stevens.

 

Beezel points a finger to the sky then locks Xero in a front face lock. El Scorcho takes his time, but powers his opponent up into the air... then flies back and sits out! The crowd rises to their feet in amazement as Beezel drives Xero's head straight into the canvas with a top rope Falcon Arrow! Mark Stevens stands straight up in shock...

 

"AIR MACPHI.... HOLY CRAP! That... That was THAT! Riley! Tell me that I saw what I think I saw!" screams Stevens.

 

"Great... just when I think they're dead, some nimrod thinks ripping off an old champion will get him recognition..." bemoans Riley.

 

 

The audience goes nuts as El Scorcho finishes off his move and rolls on top of his opponent for a cover....

 

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!

!

 

 

DING DING DING

 

 

"Listening to Cho-Cho San... Falling in love all over again.... I'M A LOT LIKE YOU, SO PLEASE, HELLO, I'M HERE... I'M WAAAAAITIIIIING!"

 

 

River Cuomo sings through the PA system inside the Mellon Arena once more, as the referee lifts Beezel's hand in victory to a standing ovation.

 

"Your winner," exclaims Funyon, " in a time of nine minutes and fourty two seconds... BEEEEEEZEEEEEEEL!!!"

 

Beezel rolls out of the ring towards Funyon and asks to borrow his microphone. Funyon graciously passes it to him. El Scorcho speaks to the crowd with his robotic voice ringing clear through the arena.

 

 

"Hold on, hold on!" exclaims the high flyer, "Now is a perfect time to impart upon one and all the first lesson of life! And Friend Xero was kind enough to be the first volunteer."

 

The crowd quiets down enough to allow Beezel to be heard

 

"The first lesson my friends is to never, ever pull a weapon on kindly old Mister B! Because I just don't take kindly to those trying to cheat in my presence. I had to leave because of a cheap shot from a weapon, and I'll be damned if my return will be ruined the same way..."

 

"Kindly? Mister B? Did the average age of the locker room just spike ten years?" asks Riley.

 

"Shut up Robert, I want to hear this!" yells Stevens.

 

"So, I hope those in the back took notes, because anyone thinking they can take me out this time will be sadly mistaken! I can pull out the Burning Desire again if need be, and it's not a pretty punishment. I dare say I wonder when Friend Xero will be getting up. Now, having said that... let's liven things up a bit! MAESTRO! If you would!" exclaims Beezel, who takes the opportunity to sing along to "El Scorcho" while egging the audience to follow with him.

 

"Well, this has been one hell of a start to the show tonight and there's still a LOT MORE to come! I'm still dazed from seeing an Air... uh... Burning Desire out of seemingly nowhere, and who knows what else will happen tonight!" exclaims Stevens.

 

"Oh get over it, MARK," says Riley, adding venom to the name.

 

"In any case, stay tuned, for more S! W! F! Lockdown!"

 

Fade out to Beezel on top of the entrance ramp, pretending to conduct the audience like an orchestra....

[Guest Grand Slam]

"A MAN ROBBED OF HIS GLORY..."

 

Flesher crawls over, rolling TNT to his back and looking with his one good eye up at Mark Hebner. The senior official drops to the mat and counts….

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!!!

 

 

 

No shoulder up. No rope break. No kickout.

 

 

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

 

 

Flesher looks up, wide-eyed, at Mark Hebner. He’s absolutely dumbfounded. His jaw hangs open as he looks down at the fallen World Champion.

 

 

 

… fallen former World Champion.

 

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” says Funyon, “Your winner, and NEW SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION…. TOOOOOOOOM FLESHERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

"GUILT ENSUING..."

 

“FUCK!!” - BANG!

 

“FUCK FUCK FUCK!!” - BANG! BANG! BANG!

 

"THE ERA OF SUPERIORITY IS AT HAND..."

 

"WHILE ONE MAN TRIES TO GRAB ONTO WHATEVER BITS AND PIECES OF SELF-CONFIDENCE HE MAY HAVE LEFT..."

 

---

 

Backstage, the interview area. Ben Hardy stands in front of the camera.

 

Ben: For those who weren't with us last friday night, we have a new World's heavyweight champion in the form of Tom Flesher, and as you've just seen, the former champion - Taylor Nicholas Thompson- has been reeling from that loss since th--...

 

"Oh, boo hoo freakin' HOO!!"

 

The camera does a quick veer to the right, revealing Tod deKindes staring at the monitor behind them in a disgusted/annoyed fashion, having watched the preceding video package. Crowd can't help releasing a few boos at the sudden sight of the Torontonian. Ben Hardy seems just as surprised to see him.

 

Ben: Tod deKindes? Where have you been?!

 

Tod: (switches stares between Hardy and the monitor) ...Where I've been these past few months doesn't MATTER, Bill.

 

Ben: Ben.

 

Tod: Shut up. What does matter is that I've come back to put an end to something that has been making me absolutely SICK!!

 

Ben: What's that?

 

Tod: It's this sad and PATHETIC excuse for a former World champion that we have, namely Taylor Nicholas Thompson, that's been bothering me with his damn BABY ATTITUDE! I mean, did you see ME whining to anyone that would listen when *I* lost a title?!?

 

Ben: Well, as a matter of fact-- ...

 

Tod: Shut up. How the hell did HE end up with the World title anyway? Random drawings?! God knows a World champion should be a guy who shouts nothing but onomatopoeias! (noticing Ben's quizzical face) Look it up. If you ask me, TNT is just getting SOFT! That's what it is, he's SOFT!! The only friend he's got left is that big oaf from Croatia or something who doesn't even know his boots from his jockstrap! I mean, take their team name! What is it, Wocka Wocka McBlammo or something?

 

Ben: ...

 

Tod: ANYWAYS, like I'm saying, Bob.

 

Ben: Ben.

 

Tod: Shut up. I took some time off because, frankly, it got BORING in here. After I beat damn near 3/4 of this company, nobody would even give me the time of DAY!! I mean, look at me! I am a former United States Champion, for cryin' out loud! I kept XF9 on the MAP!!! I beat a buncha dipwads like Fallout and I ran HIM outta here! I *totally* destroyed Annie Eclectic's will to live and SHE ended up leaving too! Hell, I WAS #19 IN THE CLUSTERFUCK MATCH!!

 

Ben: ...Oookay. But that doesn't say why you're back though.

 

Tod: ... Oh, I *am* back. And as for why? ... You'll find out soon enough.

 

With that, Tod slowly backed out of the shot, and walked away; as Ben Hardy could do nothing but raise an eyebrow.

 

...

[Guest Grand Slam]

SWF Lockdown returns from break with a wide shot of the interior of the Mellon Arena in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Fans drunkenly wail and wave at the streaking camera.

 

“Weren’t we just here like a month ago?” Bobby Riley’s voice can be heard complaining.

 

“The Clusterfuck was held here the beginning of February.” Mark Stevens answers as the shot changes to the two commentators at their ringside table.

 

“Yeah, that’s right,” Riley says with a flash of recognition “after TNT won I got blitzed at Smokin’ Joe’s on the Southside to try and forget it.”

 

“A win still being felt today.” Stevens tries to steer the conversation back to some sort of relevancy. “TNT earned a World Title shot from that victory, claimed the belt from El Luchadore Magnifico at From the Fire and…”

 

“Lost it to my Tommy last week” Riley interrupts with a loving sigh. “The King’s Road has come to a glorious end and no one is EVER taking it from him.”

 

“I think there is at least one man who can give him a good run for his…”

 

“Don’t say Frost…”

 

“money, namely the man we’re going to see…”

 

“Don’t say Frost…”

 

“next, Frost.”

 

“GAH!” Riley screams. “I told you not to say Frost.”

 

Riley is saved from future speculation on the Frost and Flesher feud by the soothing strings of Bach’s "Toccata and Fugue in D minor" wafting through the arena to elicit a chorus of boos.

 

Stevens: “But Frost will need to get by another one of his former stablemates tonight before he can lock horns with the Magnificent 7 leader.”

 

The houselights fade to black and a series of strobes flash around the auditorium before highlighting a demonic figure standing in front of the backstage curtain. A rock guitar cuts in out of nowhere to pick up the classical theme and the arena lights fire back up.

 

“The following is a singles match under standard SWF rules and is scheduled for one fall.” Funyon booms out from the ring. “Introducing first from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania and weighing in at 181 pounds, he represents the Magnificent 7 and is one half of the Instruments of Destruction with Janus, FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGUE!”

 

Fugue creeps down the ring ramp while leering at the fans.

 

Stevens: “This is the first meeting between Frost and Fugue and they don’t exactly have ring styles that blend well.”

 

Riley: “Fugue is going to blend his fist into Frost’s face. Frost probably didn’t even know Fugue existed while he was in the Mag 7. Frost was never a team player.”

 

Fugue hands off his trench coat and fedora to a ringside attendant. Underneath he is wearing a black tank top with a cartoon snowman on it. He slides into the ring under the bottom rope, tests the ropes, kicks the canvas and prepares for the match.

 

“And his opponent…” Funyon trails off to allow the roar of Black Sabbath’s Snowblind to pop the crowd. The stage is bathed in a blue light and snow-like flakes flutter down from above. Frost walks out through the curtain with his fist in the air and a cigar in his teeth.

 

“…tipping the scales at 296 pounds and hailing from Reykjavik, Iceland, the Velvet Hammer, FRRRRROOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSSSSST!” Funyon sweeps an arm toward the big man and he takes his cue to trot down the ramp.

 

Stevens: “Hmm…This is highly unusual. Frost is slapping hands and talking to the fans on his way to the ring.”

 

Riley: “Look at that goofy grin on his face. Déjà Vu must have replaced Frost with some sort of pod person.”

 

Stevens: “The twin brothers got Frost to uncharacteristically break his serious demeanor during their six man tag on Storm and it looks to be carrying over.”

 

Frost reaches ringside and does a tour of the area, meeting and greeting the ringside fans. A pimply-faced teen holds up a poster board sign with “FROST IS PARTY!” on it in red magic marker. Frost takes it from his hands and looks at it.

 

Riley: “Bash him over the head with it!”

 

Frost holds the sign up to the camera and yells, “This guy knows what’s going on! This is the new Frost and the new Frost is party!”

 

Riley: “I thought this was just a phase he was going through like a toddler eating paste, but I believe we have completely lost Frost to the humanoids.”

 

Fugue slips under the bottom rope and hits the floor in front of Frost. He points at himself and then at the sign. He reaches out for it and Frost hands it to him with a quizzical look.

 

Stevens: “I think Fugue is trying to say that’s he’s party.”

 

Riley: “Quick! Call a doctor, it’s spreading!”

 

Fugue holds the sign in front of his chest, facing out and points at himself again. “I’m party,” he says with an ear to ear grin.

 

Frost points at him with both hands and cheers, “yeah, brother, we’re all party.”

 

Riley: “Where’s that doctor? Because now I think I’m going to blow chunks.”

 

Fugue, without the smile fading a hair, unexpectedly bashes Frost in the head with the sign! The fans jeer and Frost is more stunned by the act than hurt from the blow with the cheap homemade sign. He allows his cigar to fall from his lips and drop smoldering to the floor mats.

 

Riley: “YEAH! Give him a paper cut!”

 

Fugue slaps Frost with the sign again and then drops into a crouch. He kicks his right leg out and spins to trip the startled Frost off his feet.

 

Stevens: “Referee Anthony Michael Hall is pleading both men to get in the ring.”

 

Riley: “I didn’t hear a bell. Fugue can do whatever he wants until that bell rings.”

 

Fugue leaps up from his crouch straight into the air. He pulls his knee back and plunges it into Frost’s gut! He groans and rolls to his side while the crowd jeers. Fugue picks up the dropped sign and rips it to shreds. He throws the shredded chunks onto Frost who tries to pull himself up by the ring skirt.

 

Stevens: “Hall is following your trail of thought, Bobby. He calls for the bell and now the men have to get in the ring or be counted out.”

 

DING DING DING

 

Fugue drags Frost the rest of the way up with a hand on his head and puts his other on the man’s rear to shovel him into the ring. Fugue scrambles onto the apron and takes the top rope with both hands. He pulls down for leverage and slingshots himself overtop the strands into the ring with a legdrop to Frost’s right shoulder! Frost grunts and rolls to his side to get away from his foe. Fugue follows on his knees and locks in an armbar.

 

Stevens: “Fugue is going to work on that right shoulder. A point of attack for Justice and Rule in the past few weeks.”

 

Riley: “Fugue might be crazy, but he’s not stupid. He went over strategy with Judge and Ejiro, he knows where to hit Frost.”

 

Frost gets his legs underneath him and powers up to his feet. Fugue slides his hand down Frost’s arm into a wristlock and whips him to the far ropes. Frost reverses! Fugue springs off the ropes and dives to the mat with a rolling tackle. He slams into Frost right below the knees to topple him over! Fugue continues his roll to rotate up Frost’s body and hooks the leg for a pin!

 

ONE

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

Stevens: “Kick out! Way too early for a pin, Fugue was hoping to catch the Iceman off guard.”

 

Riley: “That’s what he’s been doing all match. If this new Frost-lite lacks the old Frost’s determination and focus, he could be in for a world of trouble.”

 

Fugue quickly makes his feet, a smile plastered on his lips, and leans into the near ropes while Frost struggles up. As he stands, Fugue leaves his feet with a dropkick to the shoulder! Frost stumbles back and drops to one knee, favoring the shoulder.

 

Riley: “The work on the shoulder also beautifully sets up Fugue’s many arm based submission holds.”

 

Fugue goes back into the ropes for another burst of speed. He leaves his feet for a second dropkick, but Frost makes his feet and catches him around the knees. Frost flings Fugue down with a crash and then falls off to the side, holding the shoulder.

 

Stevens: “Frost counters with a sloppy standing spinebuster, but the shoulder looks to be giving him a lot of trouble already.”

 

Riley: “Some old wounds never heal. I was up at Cowboy Bob Orton’s house just the other day and he was still wearing that cast. I said to him…”

 

Stevens: “Fascinating, Bobby. Next you’ll have to tell us about the barbecue at SD Jones’ house. However, Frost is gritting through his pain and cinches Fugue as he stands with a rear waistlock.”

 

Fugue feels the arms tightening around his waist and moves fast to get behind Frost before he can lock the move firm. Fugue pulls the Icelander’s arms behind his back and holds them in place with his own arms while applying pressure on the shoulders with both hands.

 

Stevens: “Fugue counters into a double chickenwing…it looks like he’s going for a suplex…NO!”

 

Fugue doesn’t have the strength to get Frost up and over. Frost bucks forward and sends Fugue flipping over his back. He lands with his feet on the canvas, but with his arms still intertwined with Frost’s. He pivots over Frost’s back like a pommel horse and repositions his arms to backslide the big man over!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

Stevens: “Couldn’t hold him! Frost flips out of the backslide.”

 

Riley: “Some very resourceful counter wrestling from Fugue.

 

They both rise at the same time and Frost doubles Fugue over with a kick to the midsection. Frost steps in closer for a front facelock. Fugue jams his head up to rock the shoulder and then drops down out of the hold to take Frost’s leg with both hands. He pulls back and flings Frost head over heels with a Dragon Screw legwhip! Fugue scrambles to attack the shoulder, but Frost rolls to his right and snags the ropes. Hall keeps Fugue at bay while Frost pulls himself up. Fugue smiles and nods his head at the official as if he had just told him an amusing anecdote about good times and noodle salad.

 

Stevens: “Fugue upends Frost with the Dragon Screw legwhip, but gave him time to slip away by going for the arm.”

 

Riley: “The game plan is to work the shoulder, he doesn’t want to stray from that. Would you tell such great strategists like Custer, Napolean and Caesar to stray from their game plans?”

 

Frost steps away from the ropes and taps his shoulder to get some feeling into it. Fugue signals for a lockup and the much stronger man greets it with a wry smile.

 

Stevens: “Considering how they all wound up…yes.”

 

Riley: “Ok, bad example maybe. What about Hannibal?”

 

They go to lockup and Fugue dives at the legs for another rolling tackle! Frost was prepared for a sneak attack and manages to just jump over Fugue!

 

Stevens: “Who crossed the Alps on elephants?”

 

Riley: “No, who led the A-Team! He crossed the Alps on elephant too? Must be because Mr. T wouldn’t fly.”

 

Fugue springs to his feet, but is collared from behind by Frost in an inverted facelock.

 

Stevens: “Frost smartly dodged the rolling tackle and looks to be going for one of his new maneuvers.”

 

Frost sways to his left then swings all the way to the right. He rolls Fugue across his body and impales the nape of his neck into the mat!

 

Stevens: “Rock ‘n Roll the Dice! Frost makes with the lateral press!”

 

ONE

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

 

TH-

 

Stevens: “Kick out. He should have hooked the leg, he’s not dealing with some mentally challenged n00b like Van Siclen out there.”

 

Frost stands and brings Fugue up by a fistful of ragged brown hair. He leans down to put a hand between his legs and scoops him up to rest across his left shoulder. Frost spins to face the upper right corner and the fans pop as he takes off for the turnbuckles.

 

Stevens: “Snake Eyes!”

 

Fugue fidgets and shimmies as they near the corner and pushes off the giant’s shoulder to land on his feet. He throws his weight into Frost’s back to make him slam the turnbuckles chest first!

 

Riley: “Yup, looks like he crapped out.”

 

Frost stumbles, leanings slightly rearwards. Fugue jumps to throw an arm around Frost’s neck and bend him back the rest of the way. He holds him in the inverted facelock for a moment before dropping down with an inverted DDT! He sets up with a huge smile on his face, soaks in the jeers for an instant and makes the cover while hooking the leg.

 

ONE

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

Frost kicks his legs and lifts the shoulder to break.

 

Riley: “A variation on one of Frost’s usual sequences. I know Frost never paid attention to Fugue while he was in the Magnificent 7, but I know Fugue watched him like a hawk. His eyes are like an old painting of a creepy, dead uncle; they follow you everywhere.

 

Fugues slides off to hook a wristlock and brace his legs over Frost’s right arm to keep him grounded.

 

Stevens: “Herb Kunze armbar and Frost has nowhere to go.”

 

Riley: “And you say I talk about old farts no one cares about.”

 

Frost knows he can’t stay in the hold for long, but Fugue has it locked on tight. Relying on his awesome strength, Frost rolls forward into a crouch and stands up with Fugue still locked tight on him like a bear trap. The fans pop at the show of power is short lived as Fugue lets go of the arm and bends backwards while using the hold his feet have on the arm as a hinge. He twists behind Frost and locks the other arm like he was the one in a fireman’s carry. Caught by surprise, Fugue easily throws his weight rearward and both men smash back first to the mat!

 

Stevens: “Awesome counter into the Samoan Flip! That was unbelievable!”

 

Riley: “Look at that flexibility! He reminds me of this little Chinese acrobat I know…”

 

Stevens: “You can stop right there.”

 

Fugue takes a breather and scurries for the cover, but Frost benches him off before Hall can get into place to make a count. Fugue hits the mat and swiftly takes his feet, heading for the cords.

 

Stevens: “Fugue with no luck going for a cover and no luck here as Frost hits his feet. I don’t think Fugue was expecting him to get up that fast.”

 

However true Mark’s analysis might be, Fugue doesn’t show it as his smile never waivers. He improvises by leaping off his feet and stretching out for a cross body. Frost is planted firm and Fugue wasn’t able to put much behind it. Frost holds him across his body and hoists him up and down to show how little he weighs to him. The fans roar with approval and Frost falls back while flipping Fugue over his head for a crash landing on the turf!

 

Stevens: “Barrel roll slam! The same fall away slam variation that Scott Hall uses.”

 

Riley: “Yeah, Scott Hall is exactly the guy you want to pattern yourself after.”

 

Stevens: “Then the drinking with Déjà Vu last week was a step in the right direction.”

 

Frost stands and raises a fist to pop the fans louder. A dazed Fugue climbs the ropes like the rungs of a ladder. He snaps to attention as he once again feels the Iceman’s beefy biceps around his waist! He pulls Fugue off the ropes with his feet a foot above the mat. He twists to face the upper half of the arena and throws Fugue out and downward. He grabs Fugue’s legs like the handles of a wheelbarrow as they rise to meet him and rides gravity to the canvas for a ring shaking ka-blam!

 

Stevens: “Snowblind! The crowd goes wild for that one!”

 

Riley: “I wish I was snowblind, so I didn’t have to see it.”

 

Frost keeps his hands locked around Fugue’s legs as he stands. With a grunt, he throws Fugue straight into the air with a twist! He twirls horizontal and hangs in the air, frozen for a moment. Frost juts out his right knee as Fugue starts his descent. Fugue’s face drives into Frost’s knee with a wet crunch! He flips over and lies on his back!

 

Riley: “What the hell do you call that?”

 

Stevens: “Uh…I’m calling it a toss slam face breaker. Regardless, it was an awesome display of raw strength.”

 

Frost looks to make the cover, but falls to his rear, gripping his shoulder. Fugue is motionless, beaming a smirk bright as ever up to the rafters.

 

Riley: “A display that might cost him the match. He’s worrying about showing off for the ham and eggers and increasing his Frost Brand portfolio. ‘Watch me kick this guy’s ass, buy my tacos.’”

 

Frost scoots forward and drapes over Fugue with a lateral press.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-

 

Stevens: “Too much time and too sloppy a cover. Fugue kicks out with ease.”

 

Frost wraps the fingers of his left hand around Fugue’s hair to drag him to his feet while shaking his arm to work out the kinks. Still woozy, Frost picks his foe up across his chest in a bodyslam position. He looks out at the crowd quizzically and they explode with approval. Frost nods his head once to acknowledge them. He rotates Fugue off to the side and down. He holds him perilously aloft for a split second and then jackhammers him down!

 

BOOM!

 

Stevens: “Snowplow!”

 

Riley: “I hate to say it, but what little mind Fugue has left can now be served with toast and coffee.”

 

Fugue ricochets off the canvas and slams back down flat on his back with a peaceful grin. Frost doesn’t let the pain in his shoulder slow him up a bit as he makes the cover and hooks the near leg.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THRE-

 

Riley: “Foot on the ropes! The old Frost wouldn’t have made such a mental lapse to let him be so close to make the break.”

 

The fans boo, but Frost waves them off. Hall is just doing his job after all. Frost jerks Fugue away from the cords and covers again.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-

 

Stevens: “Kick out! Frost was hoping the foot on the ropes was just sheer instinct and he could still gain the checkmark in the win column.”

 

Riley: “You say that like we actually keep track of such things.”

 

Frost stands with Fugue’s head in his mitts. He tucks him into an inverted facelock and holds his arm out to the side, once again looking for fan approval.

 

Stevens: “Frost keeps the big moves up by looking for a second Rock ‘n Roll the Dice!”

 

They whoop and holler and Frost rolls Fugue around and over like he did before. This time Frost’s showboating unfortunately bites him in the ass. Fugue stops the throw by grabbing Frost’s head as he goes by. He pulls himself underneath Frost’s chin and sits down for a jawbreaker! Frost’s chin whams off Fugue’s skull and he slumps straight back to the mat! Fugue lays out flat, his chest pounding for air and his smile wider than ever.

 

Riley: “Frost went to the well there. Fugue took that move once and knew it was coming. Some people have photographic memories, well he’s got one when it comes to pain.”

 

Stevens: “With both men out, the referee starts his double count out.”

 

(ONE) Hall stands to the side of both men. (TWO) Neither shows signs of movement. (THREE) The audience chants “Frost, Frost, Frost” to wake the freshly turned face up. (FOUR) Fugue moves first by rolling over to his side and propping himself up by his elbow. He opens his eyes and grins wider. (FIVE)

 

Riley: “That boy’s a Timex watch, takes a licking and keeps on ticking.”

 

(SIX) Frost finally sits up and rolls over to get his legs underneath him. (SEVEN) Fugue reaches out to grab the second rope and pushes himself up by his right knee. Frost pushes himself straight up with his hands on the mat, bent over. Fugue fumble to his feet and turns to spy Frost. Hall claps his hands and points to show that Fugue has broken the count. Fugue eyes his unsteady opponent with a devilish gleam in his eye. He races across the canvas. Without breaking stride, he snakes his arms around Frost’s and locks his hands behind the man’s head. He kicks his legs out and jams Frost’s kisser into the mat!

 

Stevens: “Nice improvisation into the full nelson bulldog.”

 

Riley: “Like the best jazz pianists, and you know what this leads too.”

 

Fugue readjusts the full nelson and skips his body over into a bridge. The camera gets an overhead shot of his nappy hair matted with sweat on his face, his eyes crazily glazed and a smile that would weird out Hannibal Lector.

 

Stevens: “Fugue hasn’t really worked that bad shoulder as much as he probably would have liked too, but Frost has controlled the bulk of this match with his bevy of power moves.”

 

Riley: “The damage is there and this will just further it. Frost has nowhere to go and will have to submit eventually.”

 

Stevens: “Right, he has nowhere to go……but up.”

 

Frost lets forth a primal scream and blocks out the tugging on his shoulder. He pushes up on the toes of his boots and rises off the mat. Fugue fights to push him back down, but he just doesn’t have the weight or leverage as Frost keeps thrusting up out of the hold! The Velvet Hammer flexes his arms to pry Fugue’s hands apart. He uncoils his arms from Fugue’s grasp and takes control to twist upright while turning Fugue face down. With his hands now near Fugue’s elbows, Frost scores a double underhook and plants his feet! The crowd blows the roof off the Mellon Arena as Frost flips Fugue against his chest and slams him down!

 

KA-POW!

 

They bounce a full foot in the air and the whole ring shakes! Hall gets in position as they settle in for the pinfall!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

A wave of jeers washes through the crowd!

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

DING DING DING

 

The camera quickly pans out to catch Janus sliding into the ring under the bottom rope with a steel chair in hand just as Hall calls for the bell!

 

Stevens: “Frost gets the win, but Fugue’s tag team partner is already here to avenge the loss!”

 

Riley: “I could have sworn I heard Frost submit to the Major Chord. I think Janus just wants to discuss matters.”

 

Frost jumps to his feet to meet the man, but he’s already up and swinging for the fences like Brian Giles! The chair connects with a sickening clang! Bone and cartilage can be heard crunching as Frost flies down to the mat. Hall yells at Janus, but he makes a halfhearted swing for the ref.

 

Riley: “Janus brings down a chair so his partner can have a place to rest while he talks to the referee and Frost runs smack dab into it. How clumsy of the big oaf!”

 

Stevens: “You twit, Janus purposely plowed into Frost with that chair. His whole face could be broken.”

 

Riley: “Eh, them’s the breaks, it might wind up looking better.”

 

A host of other officials storm the ring and Janus knows that his message has been sent if nothing else. He drops the chair, steps over the ropes, drops to the floor and drags the still knocked cold Fugue out with him. The officials are leery of getting too close to Janus, but he just scoffs and heads for the back with a supporting arm around his partner’s back.

 

Riley: “Really, I think you’re delusional Mark, one too many beam balls in the batting cage. Why would Janus want to attack Frost?”

 

Stevens: “Perhaps if a certain ‘Superior One’ Tom Flesher ordered him too.”

 

Riley: “Ok, I’ll buy that. Why have foot soldiers if they can’t fight battles for you.”

 

The camera fights through the crowd of officials to find Frost a bloody mess. His nose swelling, his eyes darkening, red streaks trickle from his nostrils and a gash under the left eye. The buzz of the concerned fans fills the air as Lockdown is forced to go to commercial.

[Guest Grand Slam]

Lockdown's cameras once again go to the backstage area, presumably looking for a superstar or Ben Hardy, whichever comes first. We are finally treated to a sight of the interviewer as he nervously hesitates outside the door leading to one of the locker rooms. Upon reading the name upon the door - JANUS - it's not very hard to figure out why Hardy's not too geared up to talk.

 

Silence.

 

And then Hardy knocks.

 

"....Come in, Ben."

 

The fact the giant guessed it was Hardy, and the deceptively Pleasant tone of the monster's voice, makes the poor interviewer even more worried. The crowd is also curious as to why the giant sounds pleased, and when Hardy opens the door, he opens it to see chaos. The very dimly lit locker room is a mess - lockers are battered and dented. The wooden bench Janus sits on has several cracks in it as if it had been used as a weapon.

 

The giant himself tosses his hair back out of his face and smiles upon seeing the camera, not even paying attention to Hardy. Motioning with a hand, Janus beckons the two closer. Hardy opens his mouth to speak, but the giant holds up one hand to tell him to shut it, still staring at the camera with eerie intensity.

 

"I know what you want. You want to ask us about the Hardcore Gamer's Championship, don't you, Hardy? Well, then, you'll get your answer."

 

The giant reaches down into the black sports bag by his side and grits his teeth, before pulling out something black and covered in barbed wire, and it's not easy to tell what it is in the light. Janus merely smiles and puts the weapon back in the bag.

 

"I plan to hurt them. Terrence doesn't want to, but he doesn't have a word in the matter. I am going to go out there, I am going to brutalise that ridiculous secret agent and that damned Van Siclen. I am going to win the Hardcore Gamer's Championship by any means necessary, and what Terrence wants is never going to happen."

 

The giant lifts his head, as if listening to something, then he scowls, leaning down and pulling the black, barbed-wire item, whatever it may be, out of the bag, and rises to his feet.

 

"It's time for our match, Hardy. Get..the hell....OUT."

 

The ominous anger in the giant's voice makes Hardy and Gus scramble to leave the locker room, and the Hell Machine storms out moments afterward. The camera turns to catch the giant walking off, and zooms in on a piece of paper in Janus' back pocket, the words just visible.

 

Make Appointment with Dr. Frood.

[Guest Grand Slam]

"Welcome back to SWF Lockdowwwwn!"

 

The cheers of the fans practically drown out the cry of Grand Slam Mark Stevens as Lockdown indeed comes back on the air, cameras panning the crowd to find a multitude of signs, one of which has "TNT > Tom Flesher" written on it, among others. As the camera spins around the arena to take in the fans, other signs such as "Deja Vu Will Rock JOO!" and "We Want Frost!" - with a sign next to it "....To Get Melted Down By Janus!". The final sign as the camera pans towards the announce table is a picture of the Wildchild, with a large "Get Well Soon" message next to it.

 

"And we're back, ladies and gentlemen! I'm Mark Stevens right here with Bobby Riley, and coming up right now we have a three way match for the Hardcore Gamer's Title! The belt was vacated after the most recent winner - the Wildchild - was brutally assaulted after the match!" Stevens welcomes the fans back and gives them a summary all in the same sentence, pausing to take a breath.

 

"Brutally is an understatement! Janus absolutely destroyed the little pipsqueak by hitting a huge unprotected powerbomb - the Dark Bomb - onto a ladder!" Riley chortles with heel-loving glee.

 

"Well Janus is a part of this match tonight, perhaps the commissioner liked what the big man did. However also in this match is Wildchild's tag partner Johnny Dangerous, and a man Janus knows all too well...."

 

Before Stevens can continue, the four quick cymbals and even quicker guitar riff that signify the start to Dark Tranquility's “Damage Done” blast throughout the arena, as the lights go out and blue strobes begins to flash in time with the music. After a pause, the familiar acid-green jacket-wearing form of Mike Van Siclen appears on the ramp, as he lifts his arms in a bent crucifix spins around cockily with Funyon raising his microphone, bellowing with his usual immortal voice.

 

"The following contest is a triple threat match for the vacant Hardcore Gamer's Championship! Introducing first, from Harrison Illinois, he weighs two hundred and thirty seven pounds....MIIIIIIKE VAAAAAAAN SIIIIICLEN!"

 

The crowd roars with cheers as Mike breaks out of his spin cycle and begins to stroll down the ramp. As opposed to get in the ring, the Spectacular One heads around the outside, and searches under the apron, pulling out two chairs and a ladder, and tossing them all in the ring as his music fades out. The arena lights dim as Siclen slides into the ring....

 

"There's Mike, Riley...." Stevens murmurs.

 

"Bah, Janus has taken him down before and will do so again!" Riley nods triumphantly, then cringes as a female voice cries out over the speakers.

 

"JOHNNY DANGEROUS!"

 

And the fans cheer loudly as the "Mission Impossible 2" theme roars out from the speakers, and the secret agent strides out onto the stage and pivots around once as if showing that he's really there, before he walks down the ramp with a half-smile on his face. He blows kisses to some of the more adoring fans, and as he climbs up on the apron, he locks eyes with Mike Van Siclen, as Funyon makes the announcement.

 

"And the second man...weighing two hundred and ten pounds, hailing from Las Vegas Nevada...he is The Barracuda....JOHNNY DAAAAAAANGEROUS!"

 

The fans cheer again at the annoucement, and quiets a little as Johnny and Mike continue to stare at each other with focused intent.

 

"We have two competitors out here, Riley...they're staring each other down." Stevens eyes the ring.

 

"Maybe they'll beat each other...hey! What're they doing!?" Riley calls in confused indignance as Mike not only lets Johnny into the ring, but offers him a chair. The secret agent accepts the weapon, and Mike picks up the other chair, both of them standing in the ring and eyeing the stage as the Mission Impossible 2 theme fades out of existence. There's a silence for a moment, which allows Riley and Stevens to converse some more.

 

"I don't think Johnny or Mike want to damage a potential ally, Riley." Stevens muses.

 

"Allies? This is a THREE way match, Stevens!" Riley sounds indignant again. "They're stacking the odds!"

 

"Well, Mike knows Janus better than any other - almost - and Johnny wants revenge for what the giant did to the Wildchild...so it looks like we have an uneven alliance here!" Stevens replies, and the crowd noise immediatley turns to boos as the lights drop out of existence. The Smarktron shows an image of a young man, with his hair recently dyed white. As the strains of Fear Factory's "Resurrection" echo through the arena, cracks slowly begin to weave through the image, and blue pyros start fountaining up on either side of the ramp. Before Funyon can speak, the voice of Burton C. Bell carries through the arena.

 

"Consumed with memories...

That preceded today...

Given a chance to bereave..

Life that's slipping AWAAAAAAAAAAAY!!"

 

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

 

"And the third man of the contest, hailing from Sydney Australia! He weighs three hundred and fifty pounds, and is a member of the Magnificent Seven....he is the Hell Machine........JAAAAAAANUS!"

 

Janus stalks down to the ring, each set of blue pyros going out as he walks past them. Standing in the ring, Mike and Johnny converse, still holding their chairs and watching the approaching giant before the lights come back up....stopping outside the ring, Janus thrusts his arms into the air....

 

*BOOM!*

 

The blue fire that erupts from the turnbuckles spooks both his opponents, and as the lights come up, the black object is revealed as....a black cricket bat, wrapped in barbed wire! Janus smiles at Johnny and Mike, indicating his weapon with a nod of his head.

 

Riley cackles. "Janus came armed, Grand Slam! He figured they'd be waiting with weapons!"

 

Stevens blinks once, studying the weapon that Janus holds. "And a most brutal weapon he brought with him, too...."

 

Sliding out of each side of the ring, the other two superstars approach Janus in a pincer-type formation, as the giant continues to stand there, watching them both as they size him up, trying to figure out how to get past his weapon and reach the monster himself. Janus however makes that decision for them. Hefting his weapon in both hands, he glances left, then right...

 

...and drops the barbed-wire cricket bat to the ground, and motions for both Johnny and Mike to attack him! The crowd roars for both superstars to take the giant up on his offer, and with small shrugs to each other, the two smaller men charge at Janus from both sides. The giant hunches his body as if preparing to absorb the hits directly...

 

...but then both his arms shoot out at full force to literally punch both chairs back into the faces of their owners! Three *CRACK* noises fill the air, and the two smaller men fall to the ground holding their heads, while Janus leans on the apron and shakes his hands vigourously to get some sort of feeling back into them. After a pause he stands straight, and heads over to the familiar form of Mike Van Siclen, grabbing him by the hair. Hoisting the dazed Spectacular One right off his feet, Janus drops and slams Mike's spine onto his raised knee, and after hitting the pendulum backbreaker, the giant takes a moment to literally stretch Mike over his knee, applying pressure to his entire spine!

 

"A....unique looking submission from Janus! I figured he'd go straight for the weapons!" Stevens calls.

 

"So did I, Stevens! Looks like he doesn't want to be hardco......" *SMACK* "Ooooooo...that Had to hurt."

 

The exact reason Riley said this is clear as Johnny Dangerous has risen from the ground, ignoring the bloody mark on his head, and slammed the chair straight into Janus' spine. The giant releases Mike from the odd back submission, just as a second blow slams into his back with an equally loud *SMACK*. Gritting his teeth, the giant begins to rise, and Johnny winds up....and instead of going for the back, SLAMS the chair into the back of the giant's skull! Janus wavers as he rises...but continues to stay on his feet, much to Johnny's surprise! Dropping the chair, the secret agent goes for the more convential route, and starts laying the chops into Janus' ribcage!

 

The crowd WHOOs along with Johnny as he tries to chop Janus down, but the seven foot Hell Machine will have none of it, ignoring the red welts beginning to show on his chiselled chest, and he rears back for a punch that will knock Johnny's head off...but the groggy and pained MVS wraps his arms around Janus' ankles, distracting the giant, and Johnny instantly changes tactics, shifting his weight and blasting Janus full in the chin with a patented Johnny Kick! The monster reels, trying to keep his balance, but Mike pulls on his legs, causing the giant to topple over backwards!

 

"And Janus is taken down with a Johnny Kick and assist from Mike Van Siclen!" Stevens calls.

 

"Get back up, Janus! Crush those two weasels!"

 

Mike uses the apron to get to his feet, still in some pain from that backbreaker-submission move, and both he and Johnny take the boots to the fallen giant, stomping on his head, chest, abdomen, wherever they can get their kicks in. Looking around, Mike retrieves the chair Johnny had dropped, lifts it high, and jabs it down edge-first into Janus' chest! The giant grimaces in pain, trying to cover his chest with his arms, but Mike just slams it down again, and the giant lets out an audible cry of pain. Johnny stops Mike before he does any more damage....

 

...before grabbing the chair and driving it down repeatedly into Janus' abdomen edge-first! The crowd 'oooo's and cheers this action, and Janus writhes around in pain, rolling over onto his stomach to weather the shots, and Johnny just KEEPS driving the chair into Janus' back! Finally, Mike yells at the secret agent that it looks like the giant has had enough, and Johnny continues to clutch the chair tightly, just glaring at the giant's fallen body.

 

"Johnny just showing his RAGE with that incredible assisted beatdown on Janus with a simple steel chair!" Stevens calls, half-rising from his desk to see around the ring.

 

"That's pure cheating, Stevens! Mike and Johnny should be beating each Other up!" Riley is rather...put out at this stuff.

 

Mike prods the battered giant's body with a toe, then slaps Johnny on the shoulder. The secret agent looks at him, still glaring, and Mike just grins cockily, pointing to the ring, then at himself, then at Johnny. Driving a stiff boot into Janus' abdomen, Johnny makes the giant roll over, and gives him a parting shot by slamming the chair onto his face, before looking back at Mike, and nodding...

 

...and both superstars search around the ring for weapons - the two chairs, Janus' barbed-wire bat - which all go into the ring. They even slide a table and ladder from under the ring, leaving said implements of destruction at ringside. After a pause, both superstars slide into the squared circle and jump to their feet, facing each other! There's an almost dramatic silence, and then Johnny begins with a stiff chop to Mike's chest. Mike reciprocates with a stunning chop of his own, and soon the secret agent and the Spectacular One are battling it out in a chopping duel, hammering each other with their stiffest blows.

 

"And now Mike and Johnny saying it's time for them to go at it! And they have weapons when the time comes!" Stevens is quite entertained by the Almost honourable chopping duel....

 

...Almost because Mike breaks it with a kick to Johnny's gonads and grabs his head, leaping into the air and pulling the secret agent facefirst into the mat with a two-handed facebuster!

 

"And Mike kicks Johnny right where it hurts! No ladies for you tonight, 'secret agent'!" Riley giggles.

 

Not even bothering to cover, Mike gets back to his feet - and Johnny springs back up as well, hooking Siclen's arm and bringing him over in a swift arm drag! Siclen counters with his own armdrag, and Johnny counters with another arm drag....and Siclen lands on his feet and slips behind the secret agent, slipping arms around his head and preparing for the Crossface Halo...and Johnny blocks it by sitting straight down and jamming Mike's chin into the top of his head with a jawbreaker! Staggering back, Mike rubs his jaw as the secret agent hits the ropes, leaping into the air and bringing Siclen down to the canvas....

 

...with a scream of pain as his face smashes right into the barbed-wire cricket bat! Siclen arghs in pain and rolls away, clutching his lacerated face. Johnny grimaces in sympathetic pain, but drops down and hooks one of the flailing Siclen's legs!

 

ONE!

TWO!

 

Siclen kicks out, still holding his face. Pulling his hands away, blood trickles from several punctures as the Spectacular One climbs to his feet, obviously in pain. Johnny sizes up his opponent, then darts in, swinging around behind the distracted Siclen and locking in a rear waistlock, and popping his hips to lift Mike up and over in a german suplex! Showing tremendously flexibility, Siclen flips straight over and lands on his feet, hooking the secret agent's waist and popping his own hips for a german...

 

...which sends Johnny over the ropes, flying through the air...

 

...and there's a stunning *CRUNCH* noise that surprises almost everyone...

 

...as they see Johnny go through the wooden table, that had been set up at ringside! The crowd ooooooos in pain, and Mike leans over the ropes in surprise, because last he saw, the table hadn't been set up.

 

"Neither of them set up the table, but between then and now it WAS, and I don't think Johnny's gonna be moving for a while!" Stevens calls, leaning to catch a view of the table and the destroyed secret agent.

 

"I don't think Mike will be either! Look behind him, Stevens!" Riley chortles, as stepping over the ropes, on the opposite side of the ring, is Janus, blood staining his forehead. The giant has a grim smile on his face, as he stands on the opposite side of the ring. The crowd starts chanting "Behind You!" at the ring, and catching the hint, Siclen turns around...just in time to catch a thunderous Gore to the ribcage that slams him between the ropes and sends him tumbling to the floor! Standing tall in the ring, Janus looks down at the carnage, then looks around at the implements in the ring.

 

"JANUS SUCKS!"

"JANUS SUCKS!"

"JANUS SUCKS!"

 

Ignoring the chants, Janus picks up his barbed-wire cricket bat, then pauses and puts it back down, electing to pick up a chair instead. Throwing the metal object out of the ring, it clatters onto Siclen's body and makes him twitch, as the giant ascends the turnbuckle with slow movements, staring down on the outside with a vicious smile on his face. Perched on the top turnbuckle, he notes how far Siclen is.....

 

....then bunches his muscles and springs into the air!

 

"Holy jumping Jesus! Janus is going for the frog splash early in the match?!" Stevens yells in surprise, watching the three-fifty pound giant soar through the air...

 

"He's going to annihilate his opposition, because that's what he DOES, Stevens!"

 

At least, that is what WOULD have happened - as despite the stiff Gore, Siclen has the common sense to roll out of the way, and Janus crashes into the chair and the thinly matted concrete, instead of his intended target! The crowd 'oooo's in sympathetic pain once more, as all three superstars sprawl on the outside. Mike clutches his ribs, Johnny begins to stir amid the table wreckage, and Janus folds his arms around his abdomen, all three of them in pain despite how early it is in the match.

 

"Janus! Don't bash yourself up! Bash THEM up!" Riley squeals.

 

"No one cares about their bodies in this matchup, Riley! Even Janus is trying to eliminate his opposition with risky moves!" Stevens replies.

 

Slowly, it is the giant who begins getting up first, leaning on the apron with a grimace as both Mike and Johnny gather their wits and begin to also crawl-climb to their feet. Siclen goes down again as Janus lunges away from the apron and swings his leg up for a big boot, knocking Mike for a loop. The giant turns his eyes to the rising Johnny Dangerous, grabbing the secret agent by the hair and pulling him upright - and being stunned as Johnny hits a desperate jawbreaker, sending the giant staggering! Twisting, the battered secret agent tries for another Johnny Kick...but Janus catches the boot in both hands and spins Johnny around before levelling him with a brutal looking lariat, and dropping to his knees.

 

"I think they've all had their energy taken out of them too early in the match, Riley..." Stevens calls, watching the action. "All those weapon shots and hard hits can't be good for Anyone."

 

"Except Janus! He thrives on pain! He can walk through whatever they throw at him!" Riley roots for the giant as everyone watches the monster pull himself back up, then drape himself across the fallen body of Johnny Dangerous!

 

ONE!

TWO!

TH...

 

Johnny thrusts an arm into the air, breaking the count. Janus blinks once, then grabbing the agent by the hair, slams the back of his head into the ground.

 

Having levelled his opponents, Janus looks around for something to cause some serious pain. Half-rising and leaning on the apron, he clutches his abdomen and begins a steady walk around the ring, inspecting the area....and his eyes fall upon the ladder that had been pulled out earlier in the match. The smile on his face is not pleasant at all, as he moves away from the apron and leans over to grab it, propping it against the apron as he turns his head to make sure his opponents are still significantly dazed and on the ground.

 

"Janus looks in the mood to cause pain...." Stevens sounds nervous.

 

Considering his position, Janus can't tell if both his opponents are down. With a shrug, the giant grunts and hoists the ladder up into the air, carrying it before him like a shield as he walks back around to the side of the ring where Johnny Dangerous sprawls. Hoisting the ladder above his head, he pauses only when he hears the fans cheering...

 

...and looks up as a groggy Mike Van Siclen springboards off the ring ropes and nails a missile dropkick, smashing the ladder back into the giant's head! Janus stumbles backwards and falls into a sitting position, still holding the ladder...and the groggy Siclen springs up only to nail a quick and nasty seated dropkick to the ladder, again cracking it into Janus' skull and making the giant fall to the ground entirely. Pushing the ladder off the monster, Mike leans over and hooks a leg as the referee inspects the carnage and drops down to count...

 

ONE!

TWO!

TH....

 

"Broken up by Johnny Dangerous!" Stevens cries, as the secret agent lunges from where he's sprawled to axhandle Siclen across the back!

 

"Yay! Janus has time to recover!" Riley grins as Johnny pulls Mike off of Janus.

 

Johnny ignores the fact he's leaving the giant sprawling as he pulls the Spectacular one to his feet, cinching in a front face lock before lifting his arm and spinning around, nailing an elbow right into Siclen's spine and slamming him into the ground! Knowing that he won't be finished so easily, the secret agent pulls Mike back up and whips him Hard into the apron, then lifts him back into the ring. Searching outside the ring, the secret agent picks up one of the much abused chairs, and slips it into the ring and across Siclen's body before mounting the top turnbuckle. After a pause, he leaps into the air, elbow snapping into position for a picture perfect flying elbow....

 

...but like Janus, Johnny crashes and burns as Siclen manages to roll himself out of the way, and the secret agent drives his elbow into nothing but chair! The crowd winces as Dangerous cries out, holding his elbow and rolling on the ground. Scanning the ring, Mike's eyes fall upon the barbed-wire cricket bat Janus had brought into the ring, and he shows absolutely no hesitation in pushing himself back to his feet and picking the weapon up. He holds it into the air as the crowd roars at the sight of it.

 

*THWACK* "Ahhhh!!!!"

 

Johnny's cry of audible pain makes the crowd quiet a moment as Siclen slams the barbed wire weapon down into the secret agent's spine.

 

*THWACK* "AHHHH!!"

 

A second blow, and everyone can see how the barbed wire is lacerating Johnny's clothing and back. Siclen's face isn't much better, having being dropped onto the barbed wire earlier in the match. Taking a deep breath, and ignoring the screams of pain that Johnny Dangerous lets out, Mike Van Siclen repeatedly drives the barbed wire cricket bat into the secret agent's back, lacerating clothing and flesh alike, and soon Johnny's skin is lacerated badly enough for blood to be welling quite obviously from the wounds. Throwing the bat aside, Mike rolls the secret agent over and goes for a pinfall!

 

ONE!

TWO!

THRE....

 

And Johnny kicks out, despite the stunning pain in his back! The crowd ooooooos in surprise at this, then starts chanting for the resilient secret agent!

 

"LET'S GO, JOHNNY!" *clap clap clap-clap-clap!*

"LET'S GO, JOHNNY!" *clap clap clap-clap-clap!*

"LET'S GO, JOHNNY!" *clap clap clap-clap-clap!*

 

"The crowd rallying behind Johnny Dangerous after Mike pulverised his back with that....Nasty...barbed-wire bat Janus brought to the ring!" Stevens yells.

 

"They shouldn't rally behind him! They should rally behind that!" Riley points.

 

As Siclen pulls Johnny to his feet, Janus slowly sits up on the outside, his face now a very obvious mask of blood with the two laddershots he's taken. He turns his head as Mike whips Johnny to the ropes, and scoops him up with a quick and dirty powerslam, driving the secret agent's lacerated and bloody spine right back into the mat! Johnny cries out in pain as the referee drops to count again...

 

ONE!

TWO!

THRE...

 

"Mike let Johnny up! He let him up!" Stevens calls in surprise, although Johnny did thrust his arm in the air at the same time. The reasoning behind this is obvious as Siclen locks eyes with the rising giant, then scans the ring and picks up the barbed-wire cricket bat. Janus climbs up on the apron and stares coldly at the Spectacular One before stepping over the top rope...and buckling to his knees when Siclen winds up and swings the bat into the giant's unprotected abdomen! The unforgiving barbed wire rips into flesh, making Janus yell in audible pain, and Siclen lifts the weapon up as the giant lifts his head....

 

...and the crowd SHRIEKS in surprise, and almost disgust, as Siclen slams the bat into Janus' face! Visibly contorting in pain, the giant lifts his arms to shield his face instinctively as he falls back to the mat. Throwing the weapon aside once more, Mike turns around to look for Johnny Dangerous....and his eyes widen as the secret agent is standing again, and holding a steel chair! Looking towards where he threw the barbed-wire bat, Siclen realises he can't make a dive for it...

 

...as Johnny charges in and swings the chair....and two things happen at once! Siclen shoots his right leg out and slams a boot into the secret agent's groin, and Johnny slams the chair down on top of Mike's skull! Both superstars collapse to the mat in pain, and the referee inspects the carnage with a shrug as he watches each of them try to recover.

 

"Incredible! After brutalising Janus' face with that bat, Mike turns around into a chairshot from Johnny, but kicks the secret agent in the sensitive bits as the blow connects!" Stevens calls out, watching the carnage in the ring.

 

"And look who's stirring first! The toughest SOB of the lot, Stevens!" Riley grins in satisfaction as Janus begins to stir in the ring, arms still blocking view of his face. Slowly sitting up, the giant lowers his arms...and the crowd immediatley begins another chant.

 

"YOU LOOK FUCKED!"

"YOU LOOK FUCKED!"

"YOU LOOK FUCKED!"

 

The two announcers gawk at their monitors and are inclined to agree with the fans, as Janus' entire face has been torn up by the barbed wire. He's still recognisable though, as the blood trickles from various lacerations, coating his entire face in blood, that starts to drip down his neck. But indeed as Riley stated, the giant is the first one to get anywhere near upright, grabbing the ropes and hoisting himself to his feet. He wavers on his feet, but stays upright, looking at the two fallen competitors...

 

...and drapes himself across Johnny Dangerous!

 

ONE!

TWO!

THR....

 

The secret agent kicks out! Janus growls and ignores Johnny, instead lunging over to pin the nearby Spectacular One!

 

ONE!

TWO!

THRE....

 

"Johnny breaks up the count! At least two of the men are still in this match, it seems!" Stevens calls. Riley just shakes his head and tries to start a "Crush Them, Janus!" chant, that the crowd doesn't bother picking up. Back in the ring, Johnny rains the stomps down into Janus' back, as the monster tries to rise to his feet. With Janus temporarily downed, Johnny limps and holds his crotch for a moment before running and springboarding off the ropes, somersaulting through the air....

 

...and hitting the Armed and Dangerous into Janus' spine! The giant cries out in obvious pain, rolling away from where he had pinned Mike, and the secret agent looks between the two of them....

 

...and tries to pin the Spectacular One!

 

ONE!

TWO!

THR...

 

NO! MIKE KICKS OUT!

 

"Mike's still in the match! Johnny hit the Armed and Dangerous to try and keep Janus down long enough for him to pin Siclen!" Stevens yells.

 

"And now they're both on their feet! And Janus is free to recover!" Riley giggles as both Johnny and Siclen begin laying the punches into each other, staggering and weary thanks to blood loss from barbed wire and other weaponshots. It's Siclen, amazingly, who gets the upper hand with the secret agent, driving a knee into his abdomen and making Johnny drop to his knees. Siclen steps forward, lifting the battered secret agent up, hoisting him into the air as he wraps his legs around Dangerous' arms and grins out at the crowd...

 

...before dropping to his knees!

 

"RIOT ACT~! SICLEN HITS THE RIOT ACT ON JOHNNY DANGEROUS~!" Stevens calls, complete with tildebang!

 

"....how DO you pronounce that ~ anyway...but Look, Stevens! It's not over yet!" Riley responds, as after hitting the Riot Act, Siclen slowly rises to his feet - presumably to fall across the body of Johnny...but finds his arms cinched in a full nelson! Roaring in rage, Janus pops his hips and hoists Mike over, slamming his head into the mat with a full-nelson suplex...but he doesn't stop there. Powered by sheer rage and adrenaline, the monster rises to his feet...and when he brings Siclen over for the second full-nelson, there's a crack of steel as Mike's head hits one of the steel chairs!

 

"He's going for it, Stevens! Mike is Dead! DEAAAAAAAAD!" Riley cackles in glee.

 

"Johnny went Armed and Dangerous on Janus, but fell victim to Mike Van Siclen's Riot Act...and now Mike is falling victim to the Chains of...HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!"

 

Stevens' cry is well founded, as Mike screams in pain - as the third and final full-nelson suplex, the released one, throws him headfirst into the barbed wire cricket bat, tangling it in his hair and lacerating his head! Janus shows no sign of mercy, and just Drops himself across Siclen's ribcage, glaring out at the fans with his crimson face as he drops for the count...

 

ONE!

TWO!

THREEEEEEEE~!

 

*DINGDINGDING*

 

Funyon rises from his seat as Janus rolls off Siclen and grabs his barbed-wire cricket bat on the way out of the ring, to prop himself on the apron. The referee slides out of the ring as well to pick up the Hardcore Gamer's Title from the timekeeper's table and present it to the giant as Funyon bellows.

 

"The winner of this bout...and NEW HARDCORE GAMER'S CHAMPION....the Hell Machine.....JAAAAAAAANUS~!"

 

The EMTs start to come down to the ring to check on the three bloodied superstars, but as they try to check Janus' face, the Magnificent Seven giant pushes them away, grimacing and staggering away from the ring and up the ramp of his own free will. Back at ringside, Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley look at each other for a long moment.

 

"Janus showing he's the most vicious creature of all in winning the Hardcore Gamer's title, Riley..."

 

"Damn straight, Stevens! He showed them who was boss...and up next we have the awesome might of Justice and Rule taking on the coupling of Craven and Magnifico! Though a coupling with Justice and Rule..." Riley drools a little and Stevens looks faintly disturbed, as the camera switches to an image of the ring with the EMTs checking on Johnny and Mike, and the Smarktron just shows Janus' blood-covered, maniacal looking grin as the giant stands on the ramp and holds his newfound title high in one hand, and his barbed wire cricket bat in the other...

 

...and we fade to black as Lockdown goes to commercial.

[Guest Grand Slam]

Ben Hardy stands in front of a giant “SWF LOCKDOWN” banner with a microphone in hand as the camera fades in from black. The crowd out in the arena pops as they see Frost pacing back and forth in front of Hardy, his hands balled into fists and his face so much raw hamburger.

 

“Welcome back to Lockdown,” Hardy starts “I’m here with Frost. He defeated Fugue earlier this evening and was then viciously jumped by Janus post match with a wicked chair shot. I appreciate you being with us Frost, but you should really seek further medical attention.”

 

“I don’t need any damn medical attention. I need to whip somebody’s ass!” Frost wails as he stops his pacing. The fans roar with approval. Both of Frost’s eyes are deep shades of black and blue with his nose swollen and a bandage over a gash below his left eye.

 

“Do you think this attack was ordered by SWF World Champion Tom Flesher?” Hardy asks.

 

“THINK!” Frost screams. “I know it was. I don’t know Janus from Adam and he attacks me post match for no reason. If he interfered to help his partner, that’s one thing, but it wasn’t about that. The match was over when he hit the ring. He’s nothing but a pawn in Flesher’s game to move around the board.”

 

Frost lowers his voice and turns a little more serious. “I know exactly how Flesher is manipulating you Janus, because he did the same to me. He sees you as a rabid Doberman he can say ‘kill’ to and points a finger. You’re a muscle headed robot to him if you’re anything. I got away from all that and you can you too. I turned over a new leaf, I’m living for myself now, I’m living to entertain these great SWF fans,” the audience pops anew “and not living for the whims of a tinplated dictator who’s only more dangerous now as the World Champion.”

 

“A situation you’re willing to do something about?” Hardy questions to stir the pot.

 

“Damn straight.” Frost’s proclamation elicits more cheering. “If I have to go through every one of Flesher’s foot soldiers to take that belt off of him, so be it. I’ve already beaten Justice and Rule single handedly, I’ve defeated Fugue tonight, I’ve taken out El Luchadore Magnifico and Danny Williams in the past and I’ll do it again if I have to. If Janus is in that too, so much the better, because I’ll teach him that there is no weight limit on the job train and no one is too big to get crammed in the hurt locker.”

 

Frost points at the camera and exits stage right with the fans screaming wildly for the impending clash of the titans.

[Guest Grand Slam]

“This match is sure to be one heck of a barn burner,” calls ‘Grand Slam’ Mark Stevens into his headset as we return from the commercial. “We are going to see the tag team champions Justice and Rule, battle it out tonight with the rather odd pairing of El Luchadore Magnifico and SWF US Champion Michael Craven. Riley, what should we be looking out for here in this contest?”

 

Riley looks rather pensive for a moment, “Well, quite frankly, I think we are bound to see a whole lot of cheating in this one. These two teams don’t give a damn about the rules; they don’t care about each other’s welfare. They just plain don’t care. And if that isn’t the recipe for some fun times, I don’t know what is.”

 

“Even though El Luchadore Magnifico is the newest member of the Magnificent 7?”

 

“Oh, like that has ever come into play when the 7 are placed against each other. Justice and Rule beat Tom Flesher and Frost for the belts and there was never a question about how they would treat each other. If ELM thinks this is going to be some kind of friendly debate, he’s got another thing coming probably a length of chain to the face.”

 

“With that, fans, let’s go to Funyon with the ring introductions...”

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

“This next match is scheduled for one fall and is a non title contest. Introducing FIRST...."

 

POPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOP!

 

Red pyrotechnics blast into the air as the SmarkTron flashes the word “JUSTICE” immediately followed by the word “RULE” as the heavy sounds of Rage Against the Machine play Judge William Hearford and Ejiro Fasaki into the presence of the capacity Pittsburgh crowd. Securely wearing the tag belts that won’t be on the line tonight around their waists, The Judge and Fasaki model their brand new Justice and Rule T-Shirts to the people. Sadly, the people that like to wave yellow towels are only to happy to sully the quality merchandise with wadded up paper balls. Brushing the debris away with a laugh Justice and Rule slide into the ring to hear Funyon complete his announcing duties.

 

“They weigh in tonight at a total combined weight of 430 pounds, they are the SWF WOOOORLD Tag Team Champions and members of The Magnificent 7.... William Hearford, Ejiro Fasaki ... They are JUSTICE AND RULLLLLLLLLLE!”

 

Stevens interjects as the crowd continues with their booing, “The tag team champs look very confident right now, Riley. They are so far unbeaten in tag team encounters... but they’ve never had to face El Luchadore Magnifico or Michael Craven. We will just have to see how they are able to match up.”

 

“And their opponents... introducing first....”

 

The lights cut out as the sounds of “Cochise” begin to play. Smoke fills the entire entranceway for just a moment as a golden shower begins to fall from the top of The SmarkTron. Finally, a spotlight beam down to the entrance and displays to the people that the United States champion is there! Spinning in place, Craven receives the jeers that he deserves as he struts down to ringside and onto the ring apron. With the US Strap around his waist, Craven slings himself into the ring as Justice and Rule stand away from the newcomer to the ring. Pulling his US title from around his waist, Craven lifts it to the booing crowd as Funyon prattles on...

 

“Weighing in at 260 pounds and hailing from Tampa, Florida, he is the SWF United States Champion “THE NIGHTMARE” Michael CRAVENNNNN!”

 

“Oddly enough, there don’t seem to be any ring girls this week for Craven. I guess Amy put her foot down on that practice pretty darn fast,” says Stevens.

 

“WHUP AHH!” adds Riley.

 

“And his partner....”

 

With the lights dimming again, a flood of white, red and green lights sparkle throughout the arena. With the crowd already angered by Craven and the tag team champions, they require no warm up as The Mexican National Anthem plays loudly from the sound system of the Mellon Arena. Waving his countries flag high over his head, El Luchadore Magnifico pops through the curtain and strides down to the ring. Sliding underneath the bottom rope, ELM rises to his feet to wave the flag high as Funyon concludes his duties for this portion of the match.

 

“Hailing from Mexico City, Mexico and weighing in at 201 pounds, he holds the record for being the longest reigning SWF World Champion in history. This is none other then EL LUCHADORRRRRRRR MAGNIFICOOOOOOOO!”

 

Smiling broadly, ELM places his country’s flag in his corner as Craven comes up to him to discuss some last second strategy. Sharing some words, the odd ball partners chose to have the former World Champion start out for his team as Ejiro Fasaki takes on that role for his team. Hopping back and forth on the balls of his feet, Ejiro steps to the center of the ring and extends his hand to his stable mate. Looking at the hand for a moment, El Luchadore smiles broadly before breaking into a full out laugh. Raising an eyebrow at the jocularity, Ejiro looks at his hand for a second before starting to chuckle himself. Wiping the tears from his eyes, ELM looks at Fasaki and shakes his head as Ejiro admits loudly.

 

“Yeah, I guess that’s not going to happen.”

 

“No.”

 

“Right.”

 

Immediately the two men lock up in a collar and elbow and begin to jockey for some sort of position. Immediately snapping to the mat, El Luchadore Magnifico sends Fasaki over with an arm drag. Getting up to his feet as soon as he is able, Ejiro charges forward in a second only to get taken back to the mat with a drop toehold. Floating over as quickly as he can, ELM takes a side headlock. Grinding away at the side of Fasaki’s head, the former World Champion pushes Ejiro over onto his side and tries to force Fasaki’s shoulders to the mat. But instantly pulling a counter out of his bags of tricks, Ejiro uses a handful of hair to free himself from the headlock and snag ELM in a leg scissors. Kicking out with all of his body, El Luchadore nips up to his feet as Ejiro leaps to his feet as well.

 

“And we have a standoff! What a display of mutual respect and,” begins ‘Grand Slam’ just as Ejiro reaches right out and jams his fingers into ELM’s eyes. “Never mind, I forgot who I was talking about.”

 

“No kidding, these guys don’t care about honor. They care about winning no matter what the cost. ELM just forgot who he was dealing with and it cost him.”

 

Taking the blinded Luchadore by the arm, Ejiro sends him into the ropes and catches him on the rebound with a staggering dropkick to the chest that sends ELM flying to the canvas. Snapping ELM off the ropes, Fasaki drags Magnifico into the unfriendly Justice and Rule corner and makes a tag to his veteran partner. Stepping through the ropes for the first time in this match, Hearford is immediately offered an open target and he takes advantage with a hard boot across El Luchadore’s chest. Ejiro heads to the apron from his brief encounter with El Luchadore as The Judge backs ELM against the rope strands.

 

CHOP!

 

“WHOOOOO!”

 

CHOP!

 

“WHOOOOO!”

 

With Magnifico stunned, Hearford takes him by the arm and sends him into the ropes once again and swings for the fences with a clothesline. But the quick as a cat Luchadore nimbly rolls underneath the strike as Judge’s arm goes sailing overhead. Coming up to his feet, ELM strikes back by leaping into the arms of The Judge and snagging a tight grip around his head. Using his body weight and momentum, ELM turns Hearford’s body around and spikes him into the mat with a Tornado DDT!

 

BOOM!

 

Flipping head over heels, Hearford lands on his back as the former World Champion tags Michael Craven into the ring for the first time.

 

“CRAVEN SUCKS! CRAVEN SUCKS! CRAVEN SUCKS!”

 

“I think that’s just about enough editorializing there, Stevens.”

 

“Sorry. I just hate that Craven so much.”

 

Brushing past ELM in an instant, “The Nightmare” pulls The Judge on to his feet and drives him backward into a corner. Slamming into Judge with shoulder blocks time and again, Michael Craven tries to knock all the wind out Hearford’s lungs. Pulling Hearford out of the corner, Craven ducks low before slamming Hearford into the canvas with a scoop slam. Popping against the ropes for momentum, Craven leaps into the air and tries to crush Hearford with a leg drop but the wily veteran rolls out from underneath.

 

“Bad strategy there from the United States Champion,” notes Stevens, “Hearford simply just was not in enough trouble for that kind of maneuver to work right there.”

 

Both men roll up to their feet at the same time, but it is Craven that scores first with a sharp right hand to the jaw. Popping The Judge once again with a hard right hand, “The Nightmare” loads up once more with the fist but this time, Hearford ducks underneath the blow and grabs Craven around the back. Using his substantial power, Hearford leans back and chucks Michael across the ring with a stunning German Release Suplex. Getting to his feet, The Judge makes the smart choice and tags Fasaki back into this tag team encounter. Leaping over the top rope, Fasaki joins The Judge as together they whip Craven into the ropes. Ducking a little bit, Justice and Rule send Michael up high before crushing him into the canvas with a double flapjack. Impacting the mat with his face, Craven tries to scramble away from his opponents and leans against the middle ropes with his chest.

 

“Oh man,” says Stevens, “That is not a good place to be if I know Fasaki.”

 

And it seems as though Stevens has indeed been sitting down to discuss the works of Victor Hugo with Rule as the cruiserweight comes crushing down across Craven’s back with all of his weight in a straddle. Bounding up and down on Michael’s back, Ejiro laughs as Craven struggles for some breath. Slipping his feet through the middle rope, Fasaki slithers to the apron for a moment. Eyeing Craven up, Fasaki leans back before stepping forward and punting in the US Champions face into the outer reaches of the arena!

 

BOOM!

 

“Oh snap!” laughs Riley “Of course, if he wants Amy to really leave Craven, Fasaki will have to kick in Michael’s wallet.”

 

Coming back inside the ring with a smile, Ejiro pulls down his kneepad to expose the bone before driving it into the head of the United States Champion. Getting back to his feet, Fasaki walks backward into his corner and to the waiting tag from his larger partner. Charging into the ring, The Judge snaps down onto Michael with a mammoth elbow drop. Reaching back and hooking a leg, ‘Judge Mental’ hooks a leg as the referee counts away...

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THRNOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

“Craven still has a whole lot of life left in him, Bobbie. He didn’t defeat Mak Francis and put ‘The Franchise’ on the self because he’s a big wiener. Although I don’t think it helped him either.”

 

Lifting his arm to the crowd, Hearford lets out a below as he awaits “The Chimera” getting back to his feet. As soon as Craven does so, The Judge is there to knock him right back to the mat with a rushing clothesline that nearly decapitates Michael with one swift blow! Loading up the cannon once again, Hearford watches Craven closely before hitting the ropes for another clothesline when suddenly the ropes just aren’t there anymore! Without the ropes there to stop him, Hearford tumbles all the way out of the ring and lands on his head against the hardwood floor! And where did the ropes go?

 

“ELM pulled down the top rope and The Judge hit the floor!” shouts Stevens as Ejiro comes barreling into the ring.

 

Cut off by the official though, Fasaki can’t do anything as ELM drops to the floor to continue his illegal assault. Picking the Mexican flag off of his corner, El Luchadore lines Hearford up as he staggers up to his feet. With the flag held lengthwise, ELM rushes forward and delivers the blow!

 

CRACK!

 

Breaking the flag in half across the throat of the tag team champion with a clothesline-like maneuver! Placing what’s left of the flag standing up near the ring, ELM quickly pulls Hearford off the floor and tosses him back into the ring as Craven struggles to move once again. Leaping up to the apron, El Luchadore shouts out to “The Nightmare” to make cover. Slowly dragging his beaten carcass over to the side of the ring where Hearford is lying, Craven places his body against William’s for a cover with a lateral press.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

“FOOT’S OUT!” shouts Kivell as he sees Hearford place a black boot on the outside of the ring to break the cover.

 

Looking at Matt with a dull expression on his face, Craven stands tall for just a moment before he reaches over and makes a tag to El Luchadore Magnifico. Leaping over the top rope, Magnifico immediately moves to pull Hearford away from the ropes a few feet before dropping down to make another cover and hook Hearford up properly for a...

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THRENNNAHHHHHHHENOHEARFORDGETSASHOULDERUP!

 

“Goddamn, ELM gave him too much time to recover. I’m sorely disappointed that he didn’t get damn pin there.

 

“Say what you will, but El Luchadore Magnifico is one magnificent wrestler.”

 

“DUH.” says Riley with a sour look, “What the hell did you think ‘Magnifico’ stood for? Mag-Lite?”

 

Slightly frustrated, ELM drags Hearford up off the ground. He gives him a knee to the stomach before whipping the old man away. He leapfrogs the big man on the bounce, and as the Judge continues on his momentum he comes back again he leaps up, wrapping his legs around Hearford’s neck and flipping him to the ground with a perfect Frankensteiner! With a small smirk thrusts his fist into the air and yells “¡Encima, los idiotas!” as he sits on Hearford’s chest for the pin!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THREEEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHNOEJIRODROPKICKSHIMOFF!

 

“A timely save there by Ejiro, but Hearford isn’t gonna last much longer if he can’t get that tagout.”

 

Matty Kivell begins to push Ejiro out of the ring, and as soon as he turns his back ELM puts his grubby little fingers around the throat of the Judge and begins choking the life out of him! Ejiro sees ELM doing his normal ‘dirty’ work, and Fasaki tries to rush and break it up, but the referee blocks his path and pushes him towards the apron.

 

“Fasaki certainly isn’t happy seeing his own tactics being used on his own tag partner…” notes Grand Slam as the zebra turns around to see ELM with his hands locked firmly around Hearford’s neck.

 

“Of course not. It’s gimmick infringement, damn it!” exclaims Riley as Kivell proceeds with a quick five count and forces ELM to let go, “How would you like it if some big lug ran around using the Walk-Off all the time?... Wait, that might give it some credibility. Don’t answer that last one.”

 

In the ring, El Luchadore takes the Judge by his t-shirt and pulls him over to the heel corner, tagging out to Craven before holding Hearford for a quick shoot to the jaw from Mike. Craven struts into the ring with the battered and beaten old veteran, and fires off a stiff kick to the Judge’s gut. “HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” is all the Judge can say as all the air in his lungs is forcibly pushed out, doubling over with his arms around his gut. In one fluid motion Craven grabs Hearford by the head and takes him to the ground, smashing his cranium into the mat with a DDT! The old man goes straight up on his head from the force and flips over onto this back, and Craven puts one hand confidently and the other waving “Buh-bye” in the Judge’s face for the cover!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHNOHEKICKSOUT!

 

“Confidence only buys the Judge another chance as Craven didn’t hook the leg at all to prevent a kick out.”

 

“Yeah, but the blood is in the water, and these sharks smell it. They are making pins and tags after everything they do. Hell, Justice will get tired of kicking out if they keep this assault up.”

 

While the Judge lies on the ground for a few more moments Craven rolls to the side and tries to think of what to do next. Maybe a Diamond Bullet? What about the Crossface? How ‘bout I leap off the middle rope, do a half twist and land a DDT in the en-*Errr* His train of thought is interrupted by the groan, and he looks over and sees the feeble grandpa trying to get up to his knees. “Aw screw it, a headlock works fine” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around the cranial cavity of the old man. He wrenches him back to the ground and proceeds to grind away at the weakened Judge’s strength with the tiring hold.

 

Hearford tries to get off the ground, but Craven uses his superior size to keep him firmly on the ground. But Hearford isn’t the one to give up, and through his will alone he gets his footing and begins to push up to a mild crowd reaction. The man who started and ended Pokemania tries to wrench him down again, but Justice puts his feet out to stop him from going down. He pries off one of “The Chimera’s” and twists it into a wristlock. Before Craven even thinks of reversing the hold Hearford grabs his neck and takes him off his feet with a Russian Leg Sweep. Craven crashes down and holds the back of his head as the grounded Judge makes a break for Ejiro!

 

“Quick, make the tag, Hearford!” Yells Riley as Hearford crawls towards his corner, the crowd giving him a small cheer while Craven recovers and goes to grab the Judge’s foot.

 

“Nope, Russian Leg Sweep wasn’t enough there,” Grand Slam says as Craven gets his mitts on Justice’s foot and pulls him back towards the center of the ring, “I personally think that Hearford probably should have tried for a high impact move there.”

 

“Yeah, but that’s just a reversal waiting to happen, and in his condition he can’t afford to take much more punishment. The Leg Sweep was the safe way out there, even if it didn’t quite work.”

 

Craven pulls him over into the center of the ring and gives him a sharp boot to the back to cut off any momentum the Judge had left. He straddles his downed body and grabs him by chin, pulling him back into a Camel Clutch! The crowd boos as Craven laughs evilly and taunts Ejiro while the Judge struggles to break the hold.

 

“Wow, we’ve really seen an amazing transition for Michael Craven as of late,” says Grand Slam as Craven tries to hold the Judge back from inching forwards towards the ropes, “He’s gone from a more high-impact based wrestler to a more technical based wrestler in only a short amount of time and is doing great. I’ll give him credit; he really knows how to adapt well.”

 

Hearford tries to get closer to the ropes, indifferent to the scattered cheers that he’s getting while doing so. Craven, though, has other plans as he is able to drag him back away from the ropes and sets him up facing the heel corner. He yells something at ELM and motions at him with his head and ELM gives a grin at his partner’s proposition. He slides through the ropes and heads towards the two men in the ring, giving a small hop and nailing the Judge in the face with a low dropkick! Kivell immediately forces Craven to break the hold and goes to push ELM out of the while the Judge lies on the ground holding his crushed face. Ejiro looks at the situation quickly, and with a nod decides it’s time, reaching down into his knee pad…

 

“One good cheat deserves another!” says a happy Riley as Ejiro pulls out the infamous chain to… a pop? Ejiro raises an eyebrow at the oddity, but shrugs it off as he wraps it around his fist and runs out into the ring. ELM tries to stop him, but Kivell blocks his way and continues to push him to the apron as Fasaki sneaks up behind the oblivious Craven.

 

THWACK!

 

He nails the taller man right in the small of his back, and Craven falls down clutching his back like he got hit with a bullet. ELM tries to push through Kivell again, but the ref refuses to let him past, and Ejiro gives him a shit-faced grin and waves good-bye as he exits the ring, tossing the evidence away. Kivell turns around to see the Judge recovering and slowly beginning to move towards his beckoning partner while Craven lies on his belly with both hands holding his back. He raises an eyebrow, but then he remembers the Judge’s finisher, and he makes the logical jump for the events.

 

“Hell yeah, guys!” says Riley, applauding the secret cheating, “Now that’s what I call Justice, damn it. An eye for an eye, and um… a chain for a flag pole?”

 

“But he’s almost on the other side of the ring and Craven is only a few feet away from ELM. Ejiro’s chain may have taken Craven out, but he is still a lot closer than the Judge is. I’m not sure who is gonna get it here.”

 

Hearford begins to slowly crawl towards his desperate partner, indifferent to the crowd trying to motivate him on a little more. Meanwhile, Craven sits on the other side of the ring, still holding the big red mark that the chain left on his body, but he begins to move towards ELM as well. The tired Judge, only a foot or so away, reaches out for his partner’s hand as Craven makes a diving tag towards Mags, who dashes through the ropes and towards ‘Judge Mental’. Hearford reaches out a final time…

 

 

 

 

 

 

“NO!!” yells Stevens as ELM nails a diving elbow on Hearford’s back, putting him down just out of reach of his partner and draining anything the crowd had left. “He nearly had it there, but Craven set the Camel Clutch close enough to his corner that he was able to make the tag to ELM first!”

 

ELM pulls the veteran away from his evil apprentice and pulls him up in the middle of the ring. He locks him in a front facelock and Hearford’s arm over his neck, bobbing his head three times for a small countdown before snaps the bigger man over top of him for a Snap Suplex! Hearford hits the mat hard, but ELM isn’t done quite yet. He lifts up the dazed Judge up, and he flings him hard over top again for a set of Snap Suplexes! He goes over and makes the cover.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREEAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHNOEJIROBREAKSITUPAGAIN!

 

“Another timely boot from Rule saves Justice, but how many times can Ejiro save him?”

 

Ejiro goes back to the outside while ELM gets back up to his feet, pulling up the Judge as well. He looks over at his corner, and Craven shakes his head, still holding his back in pain. ELM sighs and give Hearford a strong forearm shot to the head before tossing him at the ropes. But Hearford still has enough in him to reverse the whip, and he sends ELM barreling towards the side instead. Hearford bends over for a back body drop, but Mags just flips right over him, putting his arms around his waist while he lands behind the old man. Hearford stumbles back a little, and ELM drags him right into a Sunset Flip Pin!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHNOHEKICKSOUT!

 

The crowd gives a little cheer as the old man gives a weak kickout, and ELM hits his fist on the ground once before coming up again. He goes over to the rising Judge and fires off a knifed-edged chop… But it’s blocked by the forearm of the larger man! Justice fires off a chop of his own, and it connects with the small Luchadore, pushing him backwards.

 

“WHOOOOO!”

 

CHOP!

 

“WHOOOOO!”

 

CHOP!

 

“WHOOOOO!”

 

By the third one ELM is right up against the ropes, and Justice grabs his wrist and tosses him away towards the ropes. He bounces himself and follows with his big arm ready for a lariat… but ELM ducks under it and as they come at each other again ELM jumps and hits him with a leaping DDT!

 

“And that rally is cut off by ELM,” notes Grand Slam as the crowd quiets down again.

 

“Crap, Craven and ELM are working together!” says Riley, both ticked and surprised, “From all looks of this was supposed to be a massacre, but not for those two. Damn it, this isn’t what I paid to see!”

 

“… You didn’t pay anything to see this. You got in free, remember?”

 

“Well, I made a damn big bet on it, and I WILL be paying if they lose!”

 

Grand Slam rolls his eyes while the in-ring action continues with ELM dragging the exhausted Hearford towards the heel corner at the beckoning of his partner, who looks to have recovered somewhat from that dirty shot earlier. Mags restrains him for Craven to get a forearm in, and they switch, with Craven quickly getting into a lockup with his victim. Hearford tries to back out, but Mike’s grip is iron and he uses Justice’s attempted escape to his advantage by pulling him into a knee. He hooks the leg and tries to hit the Fisherman’s Suplex… But is denied as the Judge grapevines the leg and falls backwards into a surprise Small Package! The crowd swells a little as Kivell dives for the count.

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THREAAAHHHHNOHEKICKSOUTSTRONG!

 

“Ha, it looks like the crowd is finally warming up to Justice and Rule,” asks Bobbie, looking around at the people in the seats, “You know, it took them long enough to recognize talent like theirs.”

 

“Actually, it’s probably because while Justice and Rule are two cruel and sadistic guys, they never turned on their fans like ELM and Craven did.”

 

“Bah. I like my version better.”

 

Hearford staggers up to his feet, shaking the cobwebs out of his head, and he begins to head towards Ejiro for a tag… but he momentarily forgets about Craven, giving Mike the chance to come in from behind and wrap his arms around the Judge’s neck for a sleeper! Justice struggles in the hold, just out of reach of a tag! “The Chimera” keeps his choking grip on the old veteran and soon the old man is fading… fading…

 

“It looks like it’s lights out for the Judge here!”

 

“Damn it, figures the old guy would go to sleep on us here…”

 

Ejiro reaches out for the tag, but Craven keeps dragging him backwards out of reach. His mind races with ideas on what he could do… and suddenly his face lights up. He begins to step through the ropes, and almost immediately Kivell goes over to stop him. Ejiro gives a wink to Hearford as he swings his foot back and forth just before he goes through the ropes, and the old man suddenly gets the idea and winks back….

 

 

 

 

 

…. And swings his leg back for a low blow on Craven! The crowd EXPLODES into cheers as Craven releases the hold and falls to his knees holding what’s left of his family jewels.

 

“Ejiro uses one of the cardinal rules of wrestling to save his partner!” says Bobbie, a smile across his face, “The ref ALWAYS puts his full attention on the guy trying to enter the ring rather than the action at hand.”

 

“Yeah,” Grand Slam says, remembering all the cheating he’s suffered, “That’s pretty much the gist of it.”

 

Hearford stumbles out of the hold, and he takes a few uneasy footsteps before making a falling tag to Ejiro! Ejiro jumps clear over the ropes and rushes at the kneeling Craven…

 

 

 

CRUNCH!

 

… delivering a knee right to his face that slams him right to the mat! Ejiro moves around like pure energy, bouncing left and right on his feet as he waits for Craven to slowly rise back up to his feet. Craven throws a wild punch at the sprightly young man, but Fasaki ducks under it and nails him with an elbow to the jaw, and continues his assault as the crowd cheers on!

 

“It looks like these fans are glad to see Craven getting what’s been coming to him!” yells Mark yells as Ejiro pummels Mike with elbows right into the ropes before grabbing him by the wrist and swinging him at the other side! “He’s just getting nailed by the fresh Fasaki and-BLIND TAG!”

 

Indeed, ELM slaps Craven on the back after the whip, and as Craven gets a Screaming Elbow to the head, ELM gets into the ring and gives Ejiro a hard chop right across the chest!

 

“WHOOOO!”

 

Ejiro staggers back a step or two, but he comes at ELM with one of his own!

 

“WHOOOO!”

 

On the outside Hearford leans over the ropes, still tired from his beating, and he notices Craven slithering to the ropes for a breather. Ejiro and El Luchadore Magnifico continue to exchange chops while Hearford gets off the apron and moves at a slow jog over to the other side of the ring, where Mike slowly steps through the ropes and begins to rest on the side.

 

“Ejiro and ELM lock-up with each other… What is Hearford doing?” says a puzzled Stevens as he watches the old man go and pull down Craven from the apron and gives him a hard knife-edged chop.

 

Fasaki tries to put on a headlock on ELM, but his swipe misses, and ELM ducks for a waist lock while Craven strikes a few hard punches on the Judge. With a scowl, Mike grabs the Judge around the throat to a throng of boos from the fans. He throws Justice’s arm over his shoulder and gets ready for his Chokeslam, but Hearford pulls his arm back an throws an elbow into ‘The Chimera’s’ neck. Mike’s grip on the Judge’s neck lessens, and the Judge threads his arm under Mike’s and palms his face, nailing him with a Closing Arguments on the concrete while Ejiro breaks the ELM’s waistlock with a few back elbows.

 

“CLOSING ARGUMENTS ON THE OUTSIDE! Craven is out!”

 

Ejiro sees the Judge sliding in from the outside, and he throws an elbow to the face of ELM, staggering him back into the ropes. Fasaki grabs him by the wrist and tosses him at the other side while Justice takes up a ready position behind Ejiro. Magnifico comes right back into Ejiro, who flapjacks him up into the air, where Hearford grabs him by the head and DDT’s him to the mat! Mags goes limp after the impact, and the crowd goes absolutely bonkers at seeing the former World Champion’s head spiked into the ground.

 

“GAVEL BANG! GAVEL BANG!” Cries Bobbie as Ejiro makes the cover. “Case is DISMISSED, boyo!”

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

*DING DING DING*

 

The crowd dies down a bit, but still cheering a little as Ejiro stands up and helps the dead-tired William Hearford to his feet. Kivell comes over and raises both their hands up.

 

“The winners…. Your S!W!F! TAG TEAM CHAAAAAAAAMPIONS!... JUSTICE! AND! RUUUUUUUUUUUUUULE!”

 

“What a match! Despite being new to each other, Craven and ELM were almost able to beat the Tag Team Champions.”

 

“Yeah, but almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.” he replies, “WHOO! I won the bet! Payday! Payday!”

 

“What did you win?”

 

“A signed Tom Flesher poster. He doesn’t return any of the mail I send him anymore…”

 

“…”

 

“What?”

 

“…ANYWAYS, stay tuned for our Main Event, Taylor Nicholas Thompson vs. Jamie ‘Jay Dawg’ Drazon in a Boiler Room Brawl coming up next on SWF Lockdown!”

 

*Fade to commercial*

[Guest Grand Slam]

Back from commercial and live in the Igloo, we return with a shot of Taylor Nicholas Thompson resting his foot on a nearby anvil case and lacing up his standard issue combat boots. While that's being done, he can also be heard mumbling something to himself, all while wrapping his fists with a roll of tape...

 

TNT: ... This is it, Taylor ... Tonight's the night ... I got a whole crowd to get behind me again and tonight is the perfect occasion ... Gotta win ... Must win ...

 

What he doesn't hear is someone walking up behind him, and watching him. Almost studying him.

 

TNT: Gotta beat JD, man ... Gotta win ...

 

After finishing up putting on his gear, he began hopping in place and throwing a few rounds of shadow boxing, mentally psyching himself up. Slapping himself a few times, he finally does a 180, and ends up face to face ...

 

Tod: Well, isn't that cute?

 

Viewing this on the Smarktron, the crowd starts booing at the sight of the little piece 'a crap.

 

TNT: ... Can I help you?

 

Tod: (barely concealing a laugh) Can you help me? (snorts) You wanna know if you can help me! Riot!! ... No y'see, it looks like YOU'RE the one who needs help!!

 

TNT: Is that so?

 

Tod: Yeah. I mean, check this. A couple months ago, you make a big return, everybody kinda likes you, hoo-wee!! And then you enter the Clusterfuck match. You weren't #19 like ME, but by some stroke of luck, you ended up winning the damn thing. Bravo! Following that, From The Fire, Magsie is nice enough to let you have a taste of HIS glory, and you end up as the SWF World Heavyweight Champion...

 

Crowd cheers, recalling TNT's famous exploit.

 

Tod: Yeah, BIG DEAL!! I was World champion AT LEAST five times on EWR!!! ... But nevertheless, you go from ALL that ...... to fighting JD in a freakin' basement! A basement! JD!! I mean, WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED??! You were champion for what, a week?? I was United States champion for 49 days!! Look at you!! You're pathetic!! You can't even hold onto a title for more than a month!! You lost your edge!! ... I am not afraid to say this, and I shit you not, friend ... but you most certainly SUCK!!

 

As the crowd ooh's collectively, TNT just stands there taking it all in...

 

Tod: (working a cap loose off a water bottle) But, um, I'm sorry. You WERE preparing for your ...ahem, big match. I'm just gonna let you do all your pre-match calisthenics or whatever form of bending over it is you do before a match ... (locking eyes with his one time buddy) ... Oh, and good luck.

 

They stare at each other for a few more seconds, all while Tod takes a lengthy swig of water. He swishes it around in his mouth, gulps it down, and finally turns around to walk away ...

 

Meanwhile, TNT glares back at him with eyes of fire, contemplating at least 27 forms of inflicting violence onto JD for his upcoming match, although he can't help but wonder what the hell Tod could be up to ...

 

...

[Guest Grand Slam]

The screen lights up as the SWF show Lockdown returns, the camera panning around it’s host for the evening, the Mellon arena. It catches such signs as “Superior Dicksucker!” and “FLESHER WILL FEAR THE DYNAMITE!!” before settling in front of the desk of Stevens and Riley.

 

Stevens: “Welcome back to the action packed show! If you are tuning in, park your bottoms on the sofa, lock the channel in place because it is time for our Main Event!”

 

Riley: “TNT is about to get annihilated by Jay Dawg in a Boiler Room Brawl! WHEE!!”

 

Stevens: “TNT is looking to bounce back after his disappointing world title loss!”

 

Funyon: “The following contest is the Main Event… and it is a BOILER ROOM BRAWL!!!” The crowd pops big for the match stipulation, despite the fact that they have to watch it on the Smarktron. “The two combatants must enter the Mellon Arena Boiler room, and in order to win, must escape and enter the ring! The two combatants… The current ICTV Champion… JAMIE ‘JAY DAWG’ DRAZON!! The former SWF Heavyweight Champion… TAYLOR NICHOLAS THOMPSON!!!”

 

With that, Funyon points to the Smarktron. As it lights up, we see a set of broad shoulders walking down the hallway. Imprinted on the back, in-between the shoulder blades is the infamous tattoo of the letters ‘TNT’ which causes the crowd to pop like a 13 year old just watching his first porno. Taylor Thompson walks down the white hallway, spotting the red doorway, which is labelled Boiler room. He places his hand on the doorknob, followed shortly by the cameraman, he takes a deep breath, thinking deeply to himself before pulling open the door.

 

Stevens: “TNT was taking one last moment, prepping himself for this sure to be brutal battle.”

 

Riley: “He hesitated because he had a flash of Jay Dawg beating the piss out of him, now he had to eliminate from that empty head of his.”

 

“Drazon!” shouts TNT, as he looks left and right for the current ICTV champion.

 

Stevens: “Thompson making the assumption that Jay Dawg is already in the Boiler room!”

 

Getting a look of his surroundings, he sees a second level about eight feet above him, a ladder leading up to it, skids and crates, pipes, three gigantic tanks… and Jay Dawg standing in between. Drazon calmly walks forward, stepping up to the exploding one.

 

Stevens: "A correct assumption!"

 

Riley: “Drazon and Thompson… these two have been in the same ring on two occasions. The first time, Jay Dawg came out on top with the one, two, three.”

 

Stevens: “The second, Taylor eliminated the returning Jay Dawg from this year’s Clusterfuck.”

 

They stand up to each other, chest to chest, Thompson looking down just two inches to avoid the eye-to-eye contact. JD swings only for Thompson to block, Thompson swings in counter, but Jay Dawg blocks as well. In the background, the fans roar in approval as the Main event has just begun. The two men hold each other’s wrists down, keeping it away from strikes. JD smiles at TNT, laughing as they hold each other down…

 

CRACK

 

Jay Dawg drives his forehead into TNT with a headbutt! TNT backs up a step as Jay Dawg boots him in the gut. JD fires with a right hook, but TNT blocks and returns fire with a fist to the jaw. Jay Dawg staggers back, tottering towards the wall. JD rests his head there and TNT throws a right hand, straight on target for the nose bridge. Jay Dawg moves his head to the left…

 

SMASH

 

TNT’s fist punches through the drywall! TNT pulls his hand out of the wall, dust covering the back of JD, he looks at the fist, then at TNT.

 

“IMPRESSIVE!!!” shouts Jay Dawg, as he fires back with a boot to the chest. TNT is knocked back three steps and JD thrusts forward, propelling out his arm as he flattens the Dynamic one with a clothesline. Jay Dawg looks over to the skids, he walks over to the structures and stands on top, about two feet in the air. TNT sits up off the ground, and dives at Jay Dawg, latching onto his legs, he yanks them out…

 

CRASH

 

Jay Dawg lands back first on the top skid. TNT dives in-between the legs of Jay Dawg, following the double leg takedown and punches JD in the face. Jamie’s head rocks backward and TNT punches him two more times. He grabs a hold of Jay Dawg’s hair, yanking him to sit up straight, while holding the hair he stomps JD in the chest. He then pulls JD to his feet, stands side-to-side, applies a side headlock, grapevines the leg, pushes forward then slams him back into the wall with a Russian legsweep! TNT sits beside JD who is now holding the back of his head, and throws an elbow out, clobbering JD in the mouth with it.

 

Stevens: “Ha! TNT is taking it to Jay Dawg!”

 

Riley: “Bah! Jay Dawg will fire back!”

 

JD absorbs the blow; sitting upright on the crate TNT pulls him up. He steps down off the crate with JD still on top, applies a three quarter nelson facelock and snapmares him over top of the skid and onto the hard cement! Jay Dawg sits upright with his body hanging forward…

 

SMACK

 

TNT kicks him in the back of the head!

 

Riley: “Owe! Come on Jay Dawg! Don’t take that crap!”

 

Jay Dawg shifts over to his hands and knees, rubbing the back of his head. TNT grabs a hold of his hair and assists him to his feet. Jay Dawg shakes his body off, and wraps his arms around the waist of TNT. Jay Dawg lifts up, and drops quickly with a belly to back suplex onto the cement! Jay Dawg kip ups to his feet, holds his arm out for a second, and flips off the knocked down TNT. Jay Dawg reaches down; grabbing hold of the dreadlocks he pulls TNT upward, and drives his knee right into his face! Jay Dawg applies a front facelock with his left arm, and pops TNT in the face three times with his right.

 

Riley: “Atta boy Jay Dawg!”

 

Jay Dawg throws TNT’s spare arm over his shoulder and lifts up for a snap suplex, or tries to lift, but TNT grapevines his leg in a block. TNT breaks free of Jay Dawg’s facelock, applies a facelock of his own, spins, and steers Jay Dawg into the cement with a spinning neckbreaker!

 

Riley: “Crap!”

 

TNT returns to his feet, arches his back, and then stomps JD in the face with a boot! In the background, the audience can be heard cheering as TNT stomps JD again with a second boot. TNT throws his right arm in the air, shouts out “KA-BOOM!!” and then stomps JD in the chest. Absorbing the boot related assault, JD slowly sits up and TNT hauls him to his feet. He pulls JD up off the ground, and walks him to the wall. TNT drops to one knee, flexes back and thrusts forward, forcing his shoulder into the abdominal of Jay Dawg. TNT pulls back, and drives in with two more shoulder thrusts, making Jay Dawg feel nice and sick. TNT walks away from the wall, letting ten feet come between him and Jay Dawg. He rubs his foot off the floor, and then let’s himself kick forward, charging straight for the vulnerable JD…

 

CRACK

 

But Jay Dawg explodes off of the wall and kicks TNT in the face with a huge freaking boot! TNT connects with the cement as Jay Dawg shakes off the earlier blow.

 

Stevens: “TNT was softening Jay Dawg up, but fell victim to that ultra stiff boot to the face!”

 

Jay Dawg turns to the skids, and pulls two of them off the pile. JD lets them both fall onto the floor, the only thing in between them is the body of Jay Dawg. He pulls TNT to his feet and lets him limply fall into a facelock. JD tosses TNT’s spare arm over his shoulder, grabs hold of the cargo pants, and snaps him over his head…

 

CRASH

 

And caves the skid in with the body of TNT via snap suplex!

 

Stevens: “Whoa! Jay Dawg just crushed the top half of that cargo skid with a snap suplex!”

 

But Jay Dawg isn’t finished. He pulls TNT up again, still in the snap suplex setting; he releases the facelock and lets his grip fasten onto the back of the pants and neck. Jay Dawg makes a quick dash forward, heading for the wall with the body of TNT, JD stops short but uses the momentum to launch TNT forward…

 

CRASH

 

And headfirst through the drywall! The wall engulfs up to TNT’s shoulders as Jay Dawg steps behind him, and kicks him straight in the ass! JD pulls TNT out of the wall, and fires a knee right into his ribcage!

 

Stevens: “Jay Dawg just tossed TNT headfirst through that wall!”

 

Riley: “That’s my boy!”

 

Jay Dawg fires another knee into the body of TNT, wraps his arms around his waist, lifts up, pivots, and slams him down into the cold cold concrete with a belly-to-belly suplex!

 

Stevens: "OWE!! Jay Dawg is just laying on the offence!"

 

Riley: "He's just kicking the piss out of the former champ, that's all!"

 

TNT rolls onto his rib section, exhaling in pain as he tries to absorb the more painful then usual suplexes. Jay Dawg looks at the quivering body of TNT from his hands and knees, grinning as he sees TNT sucking it up. TNT sits up, but has to hold himself up with his right arm as his body tries to collapse again. TNT takes the breathes, his face looking like he just went a little too far in his coke shack. His body receiving the beating that puts his mind elsewhere doesn't help matters either...

 

Drazon turns back to the pile of skids. He pulls the top one off, and tosses it on top of the skid that wasn't caved in by TNT's body. JD looks at the pile of skids, behind it is the tanks that assumingly help keep the arena running, and cold during the ice time. Beside the skids is a small pile of pipes. Jay Dawg looks behind him, seeing the ladder, the shattered skid, and the level, which the ladder leads to.

 

Stevens: "Oh no... Drazon has to be looking for something painful here!"

 

Riley: "Yah think!?"

 

Jay Dawg grabs a third skid, and tosses it on top of the small pile he is building. Taking a look at the original pile, he sees two skids left; he pulls them up, and stacks them on top of each other. Jay Dawg grabs a hold of one of the lead pipes and tosses it by the ladder. Jay Dawg peels the recovering TNT off the floor, and quickly pulls him into a front facelock. Jay Dawg fires a knee straight up, connecting with the forehead of TNT. The blow makes TNT want to straighten up, but he is held in position with the facelock. JD takes a step back then leaps in the air with the JD DDT, or tries to, but TNT doesn't fall down to the very hard floor. Jay Dawg staggers in mid air, as TNT wraps his arms around his waist. TNT squeezes with a modified bearhug, having JD casually loosen the front facelock, as he lowers him to the cement, then throws him over his head and into the pile of crates...

 

SMASH

 

With a northern lights suplex! Jay Dawg's body hits the pile of wood hard, but the sturdy forklift assistants hold their ground as they refuse to give in to Jay Dawg's weight.

 

Stevens: "And TNT hits a suplex of his own!"

 

TNT drops to his knees, holding his back for a second. He returns to his feet and takes a pair of deep breathes, looking down at the fallen JD, he leaps into the air, pulls his body over top of his adversary's, and impacts his elbow into the exposed chest of Jay Dawg!

 

CRACK

 

Three 1x4's in the top of the pile cave in a bit, as JD is now three inches into the pile of wood. TNT rolls off the pile, holds his elbow for a second and out of the corner of his eye, the ladder catches his attention! TNT slaps his elbow then points to the ladder, and even in the boiler room the crowd reaction is deafening! TNT calmly saunters toward the ladder, grabbing it's middle rung and placing his foot on the bottom rung, he begins to climb.

 

Stevens: "Taylor Nicholas Thompson is climbing that ladder to take him to that walking space above!"

 

Jay Dawg pops his head up. He pulls his body out of the crate, leaving the imprint inside it behind him.

 

Riley: “TNT can't jump on Jay Dawg this time!"

 

Stevens: "Jay Dawg and TNT have won titles in a ladder match, TNT with the US and Jay Dawg most recently with the ICTV! The ladder is not the key tonight though, folks, just another weapon!"

 

Jay Dawg gets to his feet as TNT nears the top of the ladder. Jay Dawg ignores TNT for a second and grabs the lead pipe he left by the ladder. A mission now placed in his mind, JD begins to climb the ladder as well, stalking the former exploding champeen. TNT gets the top half of his body onto the second level concrete, resting his head/chest and arms over it, he struggles to climb a little further, when Jay Dawg reaches the top of the ladder behind him...

 

CLANG

 

And hits TNT in the back of the head with the steel pipe! Thompson's head rocks back and forth from the impact, but he is able to absorb it enough to slide his left leg on top of the second level cement. Jay Dawg pulls the pipe back again, and swings with brutal force...

 

CLAAANG

 

The sickening shot echoes as it scrambles the brains of TNT. Jay Dawg raises the pipe, and one more time...

 

CLANG

 

TNT can't even hold his head up anymore, letting it set on the cement with half his leg and his entire upper body. Jay Dawg pulls the leg down to a rung, and TNT is able to let it rest on a ladder rung. Jay Dawg grabs himself a handful of dreadlocks, and smashes the face of TNT into the concrete! Jay Dawg pulls TNT's face back off the concrete, pointing it down toward the floor where the camera can focus in. The combination of the dust from the busted up drywall, and a trickle of blood coming from the forehead, TNT's face turns a rather gruesome color as chunks of dusty blood start to crumble to the mat. Jay Dawg lifts the head again, and slams him facefirst into the concrete! TNT rests on the ladder, his left leg and arm, as well as Jay Dawg's grip on his hair is all that is holding him up. Jay Dawg simply shoves TNT off the ladder...

 

letting him fall...

 

 

TNT doesn't fight it, letting his body position itself...

 

 

 

above the crates...

 

 

 

 

 

CRASH!!!

 

Taylor Thompson falls eight feet and breaks through the top two skids!

 

Stevens: "Holy crap! Jay Dawg just bludgeoned Thompson's head with that pipe and concrete, then let him fall onto those crates!"

 

Riley: "Welcome to Asskicker's Anonymous.. your host today is Jay Dawg."

 

JD climbs the rest of the way up the ladder and onto the second level. Like someone walking along the diving board, JD calmly walks to the ledge, looking at the body of TNT imprinted into the three skids, the top two are no more.

 

Stevens: "What is Jay Dawg thinking here!?"

 

Riley: "Something not too smart, I'm betting!"

 

"Hey Taylor... WATCH ME EXPLODE!!"

 

With that mocking catchphrase, the hardcore maniac takes a dive, off the second level...

 

 

-soaring through the air, preparing his body for the eight foot drop...

 

 

 

 

 

 

-He flips forward!

 

CRAAAAASH!!!

 

CRAAAAACK!!!

 

CRUUUUNCH!!!

 

Lands back first on top of TNT with a somersault senton bomb, and knock the remainder of the skids into mere splinters! The crowd can't help but go nuts, as Jay Dawg lies back first on top of TNT's chest. Neither of the men show any signs of moving as the debris of skids surrounds them.

 

Stevens: "Holy Christ! Jay Dawg just annihilated TNT with that senton bomb!"

 

Riley: "That was a freaking bomb alright!"

 

Jay Dawg barely opens his eyes, and for the first time in a long while, they have a glazed over look. Jay Dawg somehow places a grin over his face like he just got laid, and rests backward. Suddenly, he begins to speak.

 

"Taylor. I owned your ass tonight. But I'm done now. I've got a fucking match to win."

 

Jay Dawg sits up off the ground, rolling to his hands and knees, he begins to crawl toward the door. Thompson rests on the cold floor, the camera getting a final glimpse of him surrounded by the shattered wood, before heading outside as it follows Jay Dawg. The camera makes it outside first, and it catches a close up of Jay Dawg pushing the door open on his knees and crawling through.

 

Stevens: "TNT isn't moving!"

 

Riley: "JD killed him! Ha ha!"

 

Jay Dawg crawls along the floor outside the boiler room, when suddenly the door behind him explodes open! The camera quickly looks behind to see the door no longer there, the hinges knocked off, now on the floor a few feet before JD, and TNT lowering his right foot to the ground. TNT shakes his powdered, bloody head as he looks at JD.

 

"We ain't done yet!"

 

Jay Dawg roars out in anger, looking at the wobbly TNT standing in the doorway. He presses himself to his feet and charges at the former world champion...

 

SMACK

 

Only to fall victim to the same boot that just demolished the doorway! Jay Dawg hits the concrete hard, promptly grabs the back of his head from hitting the ground so hard. TNT picks the door up, and stands it up by the nearby wall.

 

"Hey, can we get some lackie to fix this!"

 

The exploding one does his bit for community service today, before picking Jay Dawg up and throwing through the doorway and into the boiler room! TNT places his hand on his forehead, and wipes away the dust, allowing a few trickles of blood to flow through with normal coloring. He takes a deep breath and re-enters the boiler room. Jay Dawg rises to his hands and knees, his back to TNT. Not one to miss the opportunity, TNT rushes for JD just as he stands to his feet, side headlocks him, leaps forehead, and smashes JD into the cold, painful ground with a bulldog face smash! Through the headsets of Stevens and Riley, and even in the boiler room of the arena, the crowd makes their voices heard. TNT hears the voices, faded due to the stuff in between. He huffs and puffs as he listens, letting the crowd shout his name.

 

"T-N-T!! T-N-T!! T-N-T!!"

 

He gives a nod, acknowledging that he heard them, and turns back to the fallen Jay Dawg. He grabs a hold of the back of his hair, some splinters of wood inside it. He takes a look at the three cylindrical tanks, five feet wide, ten feet tall, about a meter in between the three. TNT grabs JD by the back of the pants while hanging onto the hair, runs toward the tanks, stops about a foot before the tank...

 

CLANG

 

Only to throw Jay Dawg head first into it! Drazon's cranium echoes so loud, that Mario Lemieux wonders what the noise is. Jamie falls to his hands and knees, as the tank doesn't even have a dent in it. TNT puts JD in a side headlock, gives him a small noogie, and then runs for the tank again.

 

CLANG

 

Battering rams Jay Dawg's head into it! JD drops to a knee, but TNT forces him up and slams him head first into it again!

 

CLANG

 

TNT lets his vice-like grip on Jay Dawg's neck loosen, pulls him to his feet, and smokes him with a knee to the face! Jay Dawg's head launches up, and he smiles at TNT. So TNT swings his elbow...

 

CRACK

 

Smashing Jay Dawg's face in with the ultra stiff blow.

 

Stevens: "Roaring elbow! Jay Dawg put Danny Williams, the master of those out last week!"

 

Riley: "Probably not the best idea to get in a striking match with JD then!"

 

TNT pulls back and swings again...

 

CRACK

 

Connecting hard with the jawbone of JD. The hardcore maniac absorbs the blows enough to stay standing, but he is still at TNT's mercy. TNT just starts swinging his elbow rapidly, the blows not quite as stiff, but the repetitiveness is just as effective.

 

CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK

 

JD stays standing, and feebly throws a right hook. TNT effortlessly blocks, and throws out his right arm...

 

SMAAAACK

 

Annihilating Jay Dawg with the Burning Lariat! Drazon rests on the floor, holding his chest in pain, feeling the burning ((Y) @ Puns)effects of the blow that came from the trunk like arm.

 

Stevens: "A fire has been lit up in TNT! He's just beating the crap out of Jay Dawg in this boiler room!"

 

Riley: "Jay Dawg pissed him off, I think TNT has a short fuse!"

 

Stevens: "Hilarious."

 

TNT pushes JD toward the tank, letting him sit in front of it, he stomps Jay Dawg in the face. TNT stomps again, two more times in the chest. Bored of stomping, TNT grabs JD by the hair and drags him to his feet. Not sure how the landing will end up, TNT puts Jay Dawg in a front waistlock, turning his back to the tank.

 

Stevens: "I think TNT wants to suplex Jay Dawg into that tank!"

 

TNT does a slight squat, ready to throw...

 

CRACK

 

Wait a minute, suplexes into tanks don't sound like two heads colliding? Oh my bad, Jay Dawg headbutts TNT in between the eyes! His eyes beginning to water, TNT maintains the waistlock, which has turned itself into a bearhug. Jay Dawg swings his head again, getting more momentum...

 

CRAAAACK

 

TNT drops to a knee, maintaining the waistlock as JD stands more confident. JD steps inward as he fires his head forward like a heavymetal headbanger...

 

CRAAAAAAAAAACK

 

Stevens: "Jay Dawg breaks the bearhug!"

 

Riley: "And Thompson's freaking nose!"

 

TNT shows no signs of blood, but bruises focus in the area between his eyes. His senses distorted, he swings a right hook at Jay Dawg! Knowing full well that it was coming, JD ducks down, spins 180 degrees, propels his right leg out...

 

CRAACK

 

TNT staggers into the tank from the spinkick, his legs give out, and he sits down on the floor. Sadism takes over for Jay Dawg, as he sees the head loosely lying on the tank. Jay Dawg slaps his right leg for a second, and then begins to take a few strides back, giving him a distance of about ten feet between him and TNT.

 

Stevens: "Jay Dawg! Don't do it!"

 

Riley: "I think JD might want to send TNT to go visit Danny!"

 

"ARRRGH!!" The anger rising with Jay Dawg, he charges forward, five feet, three feet, a foot, JD steps onto TNT's left leg....

 

 

 

 

 

-but TNT moves his head just as JD raises his right foot.

 

CLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNGG!!!!!!!!!!

 

Jay Dawg kicks the tank so freaking hard, that he leaves a imprint of his foot in it! The fans in the audience are relieved, but pop for the powerful kick that Jay Dawg just did. JD clenches his fists and stomps the ground, pissed off that he missed the lethal blow. He doesn't see TNT beginning to stand.

 

Stevens: “Holy freaking crap! Jay Dawg just missed the Shining Black!”

 

Riley: “He freaking dented that tank!”

 

JD turns to TNT, and spots the explosive one throw a right hook, but Jay Dawg blocks and returns fire with a right of his own. TNT blocks and JD throws a left. TNT blocks again, but doesn’t spot the right chopping down for him!

 

CRAAAAAAAAAAACK!!

 

Jay Dawg buries his fist into Thompson’s forehead, knocking TNT back down to two knees. JD pulls Thompson to his feet, scoops him onto his shoulders, and throws him face first at the tank!

 

CLANG!!

 

Jay Dawg lets TNT stagger on his feet for a second before latching onto the dreadlocks. With the leverage of the roots in his hands, JD walks toward the doorway, forcing reluctant TNT to go along. They walk through the doorway, and Jay Dawg throws TNT toward the door that is standing on the wall. TNT rests chest first on it, but JD grabs him by the back of the hair, turns him around, feeds him a right hook that knocks him back first onto the door. Jay Dawg steps backward, giving himself several meters once more for running room.

 

Stevens: “I think JD is going to try and put TNT through that door!”

 

Riley: “What’s TNT going to do about it!?”

 

Jay Dawg rotates himself back to face TNT, squatting down in the process and he glares at TNT. Jay Dawg dashes forward, sprinting the short distance between himself and TNT.

 

Stevens: “I can’t look!”

 

But TNT blasts out of the corner, latches JD in an ever so brief bearhug before he arches backward…

 

“Oh shit!” shouts JD as he flies over the head of TNT…

 

CRAAAAAAAAAAAAASSH!!

 

“HOLY SHIT!!!”

 

And through the freaking door body with a railgun suplex! Jay Dawg lies on top of one chunk of wood, two more chunks are beside him, one above and one below. TNT sits up, placing his arm on his knee and looks over his shoulder at the motionless JD.

 

Stevens: “TNT just needs to find his way to the ring! Jay Dawg is out of it!”

 

Riley: “I hate to say it! But there is no way any fight can be left in Jay Dawg!”

 

TNT takes a deep breath before rolling to his hands and knees, crawling along the floor for a few moments. His stride gets weaker though, and his arms collapse, lying chest first on the floor.

 

Riley: “It’s a wonder if these guys can make it to the ring!”

 

TNT begins to drag his body as the distant cries from the fans encourage him to continue. JD slowly lifts his head, shaking away the cobwebs, and then rests back down once more. TNT continues to crawl, rising to his hands and knees. Determined, he continues moving forward, slowly stumbling to his feet in the process.

 

Stevens: “TNT is on his feet!”

 

TNT stumbles down the hallway just as Jay Dawg begins to show motion. He finally lifts his head up, and then follows with the rest of his body. Resting on his ass, JD shakes his head off. The eyes begin to let the rage glaze over them as JD returns to his feet. He coldly stares forward, seeing TNT stumble toward the inside of the arena. Like he’s Michael Myers in Haddonfield, Jay Dawg begins to stalk TNT, coldly looking to make him his Jamie Lee.

 

Stevens: “Jay Dawg got up! This can’t be good for TNT!”

 

Holding his chest, TNT staggers forward, hacking and wheezing on the way as he walks along the hall. Going at the same speed as his stumbling opponent, Jay Dawg follows from behind. TNT passes some crewmembers; one dressed up like Ash Ketchum. He sighs before making it to behind the curtains. JD walks past the Ketchum impersonator.

 

WHACK

 

And punches him in the face. JD looks down at the obvious Ketchum fan. “Bitch.”

 

Riley: “WHAM!!!”

 

Stevens: “Now that was un…*snicker*…called for.”

 

Thompson keeps walking, stepping up a smallest of steps, before entering the curtains. Splitting them open, he walks through to the delight of the Mellon arena! Jay Dawg suddenly starts to run, booking it up the steps, he gets closely behind TNT before clobbering him in the back of the head with a forearm smash!

 

Stevens: “All they have to do is enter the ring! It is so close now!”

 

Riley: “They just have to make it down that ramp!”

 

TNT staggers forward, dropping to one knee as he seizes the back of his head. JD raises his arms in the air, letting his eyes roll into the back of his head. All of a sudden, TNT jumps back to his feet and dives at Jay Dawg…

 

CRAAAACK

 

Connecting square on with a running forearm smash! Drazon’s entire upper body pivots without the lower half upon impact. His legs collapse and he falls to his side, landing on his hands and knees. TNT suddenly slices his thumb across his throat, letting the whole wide world that the end is near. He squats low, patiently awaiting the fallen Dawg to get to a vertical stance. JD rises to one knee as TNT patiently waits, studying Dawg’s movements in the process.

 

Stevens: “TNT has something big here planned!”

 

Riley: “You don’t say!”

 

Although a struggle is felt, JD makes it fully off his knees, and walks right into TNT. The exploding one-steps side to side with JD, draping his arm over his chest and grapevines his leg…

 

Stevens: “Power Nitro Driver!”

 

No! Jay Dawg throws an elbow out, connecting with the jaw of TNT, releasing his grip. TNT staggers back a step, and Jay Dawg slaps his right thigh to an extremely loud and negative reception. Ignoring the petty fans, Jay Dawg thrusts forward with TNT, kicking him stiffly in the face! TNT remains standing, falling back three steps. JD rushes for him, ready to leap in the air, but before he can spin, TNT latches onto him again with the same set up. But instead of grapevining the leg, he cradles it with his arm.

 

Stevens: “TNT changing his mind might try the exploder!”

 

But another elbow by JD stops that. TNT staggers back, clutching his head; his face swelling up with cuts and bruises. JD kicks him in the gut and instantly follows with a standing headscissors. JD picks the arms of TNT up and crosses them over his throat.

 

Riley: “JD’s Revenge! On the ramp! Whoo!”

 

Stevens: “Jay Dawg is going to take a shot at ending this!”

 

But TNT breaks the grip over his arms, and stands up straight, back body dropping JD onto the ramp! JD hits the steel hard on his back but he sits up. TNT lets JD get to his feet, and the angered JD launches himself at him, in mid air he spins 360 degrees, thrusting his leg out with the Thai roundhouse…

 

-TNT ducks and lets JD spin a full circle upon landing. Taking advantage of the briefly dizzied JD, TNT kicks him in the gut and yanks him into a standing headscissors! Wrapping his arms around Drazon’s waist, TNT lifts up, pulling Jay Dawg onto his shoulders… and sits out…

 

SMAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!

 

HITTING THE MUSHROOM CLOUD ON TOP OF THE RAMP!!!

 

Stevens: “OH MY GOD!!!”

 

Riley: “No way!”

 

Stevens: “TNT couldn’t hit the PNT or Exploder, but he sure connected with the Mushroom Cloud!”

 

TNT rolls JD off away, and shoves him down the ramp. JD rolls down the entire ramp, however falls motionless at the bottom. TNT looks down at the cataleptic JD and returns to his feet. He slowly limps down the ramp…

 

Stevens: “Jay Dawg maybe closer to the ring, but TNT just levelled him! I think we are looking at that winner walking down the ramp there!”

 

Riley: “Interesting case since as soon as he enters the ring, he will have to leave again!”

 

TNT staggers his whole way down the ramp as the crowd starts chanting his name.

 

“T-N-T!! TEE-EN-TEE!!!”

 

He places a hand on his hip and collapses down to one knee while beside JD. He takes a look at the hardcore maniac, but there is no need. He’s not moving. The audience begins to urge TNT to finish the match though, chanting his name faster and louder. He looks up at the crowd, gives them a nod… and walks toward the ring.

 

Stevens: “He just needs to enter the ring to be declared the winner… hey what the hell!!?”

 

A fan leaps over the barrier, dodging security and heading straight for TNT, he swings a right fist…

 

CRAAAAAAAAAACK

 

TNT drops to the floor like a ton of bricks, as the man reveals that he hit him with a pair of brass knuckles. The man, decked in a hoody and a pair of street jeans, reaches for his head as the crowd begins booing him already. He pulls off his hood to reveal himself as…

 

Stevens: “It’s Tod deKindes! Tod deKindes! We haven’t seen him around in weeks!”

 

Riley: “I thought he quit!”

 

TdK pulls TNT off of the outside mat, grabs him by the back of the pants and hair and throws him chest first into the guardrail! “OOF!!” is all TNT can exhale before letting his body collapse to the outside. TdK goes to work, stomping directly into the chest of TNT. Unaware of what is going on, JD rolls onto his chest and begins to crawl to the ring.

 

Stevens: “Jay Dawg doesn’t know what happened!”

 

Riley: “I like Jay Dawg and all, but he isn’t going to appreciate what TdK is doing for him! He needs to be more grateful!”

 

TdK continues to stomp TNT as he rests on the guardrail. He suddenly pulls him up, and with an Irish whip, he throws TNT into the nearby steps!

 

CLANG

 

TNT flips over the steps upon impact as TdK follows with the onslaught, standing on the top step, he leaps off, and drives his right boot into the chest of TNT! The two men disappearing to the side of the ring, JD can’t spot them as he grabs onto the ring apron. He pulls himself upward and to the disappointment of the fans, he rolls inside the ring.

 

DING DING DING

 

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

 

The Mellon arena brings the noise up hoping to set a number on the Richter scale as they boo the ICTV champion. JD lies on his back and raises his arm while holding his head with the other. DeKindes peals TNT off of the outside mat and quickly rolls him inside the ring as Jay Dawg uses the ropes to help himself up. Tod holds out the brass knucks one more time, holding his right fist up and pulls TNT to his feet. He cocks his right arm back and swings full force…

 

-but JD grabs his arm! The audience pop like funky monkeys on acid trips as JD shakes his head at deKindes.

 

Riley: “I told you! Dammit JD!”

 

Stevens: “Jay Dawg likes to do things on his own!”

 

TdK swings at JD with his left, and then right, JD resulting in brief pops by the crowd blocks both. JD is unable to block a boot to the chest though, which knocks him into the ropes. TdK straightens out his knuckles to a negative reaction and runs for Jay Dawg! He comes swinging with his right, but JD catches him in a front waistlock, lifts him straight up and falls back with a falpjack… stun gun to deKindes on the top rope! Tod grabs at his throat while staggering on his feet. The crowd pop like crazy for the current ICTV champ as he flips deKindes the double bird, grabs him in a ¾ nelson facelock and drops straight to his ass!

 

Stevens: “Stunner!”

 

TdK bounces his jaw off the shoulder and upon impact; he staggers backward, and falls over the top rope and to the floor! He gets to his feet quickly on the outside and clutches his jaw as he points his finger at JD. Drazon replies by lifting up his right fist, and flipping out the middle finger. TNT staggers himself to his feet, grabbing his chest, and this promptly gets Jay Dawg’s attention as he turns around to face the former World champ.

 

Stevens: “Uh-oh! Jay Dawg is staring a hole into TNT!!”

 

Riley: “Good! Make up for that deKindes screw up by knocking the crap out of this guy!”

 

Jamie Drazon walks up to Thompson, who is using the ropes to hold himself up. JD coldly looks into his eyes, the audience half cheering and booing, unable to predict what the hardcore maniac is about to do. TNT looks back at JD, a look that says, “If you want to hurt me, just get it over with.” JD continues to look, before giving a nod to TNT before turning his back and exiting the ring. The audience starts to go insane as they pop for both Jay Dawg and TNT.

 

Stevens: “Jay Dawg and TNT just went through hell tonight! If it wasn’t for that blasted deKindes though, we might have saw a different result!”

 

Riley: “They both look like losers if you ask me!”

 

Stevens: “Folks! We are out of time! Tune in soon for SWF Storm!”

 

A final image of the bloody and bruised TNT accepting the ovation of the crowd before we fade out.

[Guest Grand Slam]

Stevens: “Folks, the Lockdown is over!”

Riley: “We’ll see you at Smarkdown!”

 

The show appears to be winding down despite having five minutes left to go. A number of people in the crowd climb over the barricade and start talking to a few strong men wearing black SWF Security shirts. The menacing man-beast known as Michael Dratch talks briefly with them as Stevens and Riley’s microphones still appear to be on.

 

Stevens: “So…who are they?”

Riley: “Oh…he didn’t tell you? That’s the King’s Security. They were here to keep Neilsen away from the action. Kingsly figured they could grab Neilsen before he entered the ring, but apparently the Jungle Fuck is smarter than any ever gave him credit for because his ass never show-”

 

 

RRRROOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRR!!!

 

The crowd bursts from their seats!

 

“Welcome to the Jungle” starts to play as the security guards jump into place at the bottom of the ramp. Mr. Dratch rolls into the ring to direct traffic when…

 

Riley: “Behind you!”

 

Neilsen flies over the barricade, with a steel chair in hand and a leather jacket made of lesser leather jackets around his frame. He slides into the ring, Mr. Dratch turns and-

 

CRACK!

 

-the crowd explodes as Dratch goes down! A few security men turn and Neilsen waves them on! One slides in, charges, Neilsen dodges, turns, the man rebounds, Neilsen throws the chair at him, the man catches it-and then catches sandal to steel to skull as Neilsen plants both feet into the chair! He goes down, Neilsen sweeps the chair up and-CRACK!-another man goes down! As Neilsen stands over his latest foe, bitching him out, two men grab Neilsen’s arms. The Jungler flips backwards, lands on his feet and pulls in his arms, slamming both men together! They go down, another runs in, Neilsen leapfrogs, another stands in front of Neilsen, the first rebounds, Neilsen smirks, leapfrogs and-the two men crash into each other! Neilsen laughs when-fist!-ducked, the new man turns and-eats Superkick! He goes down, Neilsen sweeps up his chair and-the men outside the ring pause. As Neilsen scowls at each of them, they start to back away. A few grab those downed inside the ring and start taking them up the ramp. Neilsen smirks and pulls out a microphone.

 

Stevens: “Where the hell did he get that?”

 

A brief glimpse of the backstage area shows a bloody Ben Hardy laying on the floor.

 

NotJ: “Suspend me!?!”

 

NotJ: “Suspend Neilsen of the Mother F**kin’ Jungle for assaulting that little bitch of a referee you had put in charge of that handicapped match to guarantee that I would f**kin’ lose! You don’t even let me f**kin’ talk! You cancel MY promos!?! Well, f**k you Queen!”

 

The crowd cheers as Neilsen paces.

 

NotJ: “To think…you can’t hold me down with Your belts…with matches against mid-carders…with gimmick pieces of sh*t…with the first match of the night…even with a three on one f**kin’ contest where one of the three is the referee! So what did you do…the only thing you had left! You had to try to get rid of me! Well guess what…you aren’t going to do it like this. You aren’t going to do it by suspending me for anything these people would do…they’d all kick Eddie Long’s f**kin’ ass!”

 

The fans roar!

 

NotJ: “You see you dumb bastard! You call yourself a King, but every decision you make in regards to me has been dead wrong! I just f**kin’ showed you by being here tonight that I can show any night I f**kin’ want and you can’t stop me! On Storm…you silenced me because you needed that to be a big man. You didn’t let me talk before now because now…you don’t have a choice! Until I get what I want, you will lose all control of me, of this federation and before long…the World F**kin’ Championship!”

 

A large amount of the fans cheer…thanks to Tom Flesher being the Champion.

 

NotJ: “On Storm, you degraded me. That…that will not, NOT, f**kin’ fly! You call me Lolly Your Favorite Sexual Activity. You say I’m suspended for not having respect! Well, once someone here earns my f**kin’ respect…they’ll get it! What the f**k did you ever do to earn it!?! You became the boss? A-f**kin’-mazing! Now people should respect you as much as Mercury…wait…no…Mercury was given his spot. You had to steal, yes, STEAL it from f**kin’ Stubby because no one in their right mind would give it to you! You call me a joke…what…am I funny? Do I make you laugh? Look you little wheeler-dealer-federation stealer… The only thing funny about me…about this…is what your face will look like if I ever get you to grow a set and face me in the ring. Kings are leaders of men. Kings lead by example. Kings are the greatest warriors of their Kingdoms. They have to be. They have to be better than their most trusted soldier because otherwise, they stand a chance of being overthrown. They do not cower behind their skirts. They do not use others to deal with those that wrong them. They right the wrongs…and that’s what I am doing. Tarzan was more of a man than you’ll ever be.”

 

Neilsen pauses a second.

 

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

 

The crowd’s disgust is so vile that you’d assume a dingo just ate their babies. In other words, the Suicide King’s shit-eatin’ grin has just filled the Smarktron.

 

SK: “Christ…I was hoping you would mention that Tarzan line. …oh…you have something to say? Well go ahead. Tell me what’s so important that you haven’t said twenty times already since you’ve returned.”

 

Neilsen lifts the mic to his lips.

 

NotJ: “…”

 

SK: “Oh! It doesn’t work? I am shocked. Why would anyone try keep you silent? Gee…maybe it’s because no one wants to hear from a never-was.”

 

The fans boo.

 

SK: “Maybe it’s because you’re not man enough to be Champ.”

 

The vocal disgust raises as Neilsen visibly shakes in the ring.

 

SK: “Maybe because the thought of Neilsen as World Champion makes these fans-”

 

-explode!-

 

SK: “-sick!”

 

The fans throw things at the Smarktron. A used diaper manages to stick. Now that’s disgusting.

 

SK: “But Neilsen…you are still suspended and nothing you can say will change that. The fun and games are over. Go ahead. Your mic’s back on.”

 

Neilsen lifts the mic to his lips.

 

NotJ: “…”

 

SK: “Ha! Oh man, you make me laugh. But seriously, it’s on now.”

 

NotJ: “You son of a bitch! I make you f**kin’ laugh!?! You won’t be laughing at Smarkdown! Nothing I say will change my suspension…well…as you said your f**kin’ self, I am as good with words as I am with action. And Lord f**kin’ knows you’ll see that at Smarkdown! Because I AM Neilsen of the (Crowd: “Mother Fuckin’!”) Jungle! You can’t stop me! You can’t hide me! You can’t control me! You can suspend me, but at Smarkdown you…WILL-!”

 

Crowd: “FEAR ME!!!”

 

NotJ: “Roar mother f**ker…”

 

As Neilsen drops the microphone and stares at the Smarktron with hate in his eyes…Suicide King’s shit-eatin’ grin is gone, replaced by a Satanic scowl. As Lockdown goes off the air, the Jungle King is shown staring down the pissed off image of the Suicide King.

 

SWF Lockdown™

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