SWF STORM!!!!! (4/18/03)

April 19, 2003

SWF Storm

Friday April 18, 2003

LIVE from the Rose Garden in Portland, Oregon!

Singles Match

“Deathwish” Danny Williams vs. Ced Ordonez

Danny Williams is back, and he’s ready to pick up right where he left off… once he shakes off the ring rust anyway. Williams asked King to book him against someone that “he wouldn’t miss.” King isn’t a fool, so SWF wrestler turned referee Ced Ordonez has found himself in a world of trouble for his one night only return to the ring!

Rules: Standard singles match, DQ and Count-out in effect.

Word Limit: 4000

Send to: realitycheck

Singles Match for the Number One Contendership to the US Title!

Johnny Dangerous vs. Mike Van Siclen

Time to see who gets the next shot at the Nightmare! Who knows? Maybe the winner of this match can ride the wave all the way to the PPV!

Rules: Standard singles match, DQ and Count-out in effect.

Word Limit: 4000

Send to: Grand Slam

Hardcore Title Match

Beezel vs. Janus

The undefeated Beezel goes against the unbowed Janus in what will undoubtedly be a bloodbath! Frankly, Beezel has a snowball’s chance and we all know it, as Janus is most perturbed at being robbed by Frost last week! And a little Beezel-bashing could be just what the doctor ordered… but Beezel has proven himself both skilled and darned lucky!

Rules: It’s hardcore.

Word Limit: 5000

Send to: TheBostonStrangler

Tag Title Match

Tornado Tag!

Justice and Rule vs. Deja Vu

The day has finally arrived! Surely Justice and Rule can beat these two rookies! I mean, really! Come on! Two experienced ring veterans against two pretty boys who’s most technically sound maneuver is a sleeper hold? How can this have happened? HOW? That said, these four men have packed an awful lot of ego into this one match! Hopefully there will be room for the belts in there for the winner!

Rules: Tornado tag match, all four men are in the ring at the same time.

Word Limit: 5000

Send to: chirs3

Inferno Match!

Neilsen of the Jungle vs. Jay Dawg

Tempers are flaring. Blood is boiling, and things are about to… explode! A blast from the past for Neilsen could spell the end of the Jungle King, as Jay Dawg’s memory goes way, way back, and it doesn’t forget, much less forgive. And if Dawg wins, let’s just say that King is prepared to reward him handsomely for solving that pesky Neilsen problem once and for all…

Rules: No DQ, no count-out. To win, you must set your opponent on fire. The bottom ring rope will be set ablaze once both men enter the ring, and paramedics will be at ringside with fire extinguishers with instructions to put Jay Dawg… I mean, either competitor, out.

Word Limit: 6000

Send to: TheBostonStrangler

Main Event

Singles Match for the SWF Heavyweight Title

Tom Flesher vs. Frost

The ill feeling has been simmering for some time now. This very well may be the greatest challenge either man has faced. Throw in the most prestigious belt in the industry on top of the petty insecurities, righteous indignation, and god-awful rage, and let’s just pray that both men walk out of the ring under their own power.

Rules: Standard rules.

Word Limit: 6000

Send to: Suicide King

And since I promised you G vs. Elk.........

*Elk Enters*

*G Enters*

*Elk Spears G*

*G no-sells*

*G cuts off Elk's testicles*

*G gets the pin 1 2 3*

April 19, 2003

As we return from the commercial break we find ourselves back in the sold out Rose Garden that hasn’t been this noisy since the Trailblazers took the Lakers to 7. But as of right now, the crowd is a bit puzzled at the sight of a some what pudgy, Ced Ordonez, warming up in the ring...in wrestling gear! Holding his mic close to his mouth, Funyon begins the introductions....

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall and is at a 15 minute time limit. Introducing first, weighing in at 220 pounds, he hails form Sacramento, California...........CED ORDONEZzzzzzzzzzz!!!

Stevens: Welcome back to SWF Strom! Fans, you have chosen a great night to tune in, because tonight will no doubt go down as one of the greatest nights of wrestling!

Riley: Indeeeeeeed, we have Neilson taking on JD in a skin melting Inferno Match! Than we’ll see Deja Vu defending the rights of second rate strip clubs across the mid-west against Justice and Rule! And finally in the Main Event, we will see World Champion ,Tom Flesher, dismember that over grown snow man, Frost, to prove once for all that he is the greatest and most brilliant, not to mention sexiest....ATHLETE IN THE WORLD TODAY!

Stevens: Sure, Ah right........But right now, in a just a few short seconds, we will witness the return of Danny Williams as he takes on Ced Ordonez!

Riley: Just to set the record the straight for those stupid Internet fans, this is not, I repeat...NOT a Ced Ordonez comeback!

Stevens: Yes, when Ced found out that Danny Williams was to be making an early return ,tonight, he petitioned King for the chance to come back for one night only and face Williams.

Riley: Obviously he still hasn’t forgiven Williams for ramming his skull into one of those damn DDR Machines that he’s so fond of.

Suddenly, the sweet, sweet melodies of In Flame’s “Jester’s Dance” begins dancing it’s way out of the loud speakers. The curtains loosely hanging over the locker room entrance, burst open, and out comes Danny Williams!

“And his opponent, weighing in at 238 pounds, hailing from Louisville, Kentucky. Tonight, he is making his return to the ring...............DANNY WILLIAMSsssssssssssssssssssssss!!!

The crowd responds with a mixed reaction, though the majority of the fans are indeed cheering. Looking like a million bucks, Williams confidently marches down the aisle like some time of returning hero.

Stevens: Danny’s back, and he looks like he’s still in excellent shape despite coming off a large break.

Riley: Yeah, but he hasn’t been gone the full month. I wonder if the concussion healed faster than the doctor originally planned, or if he’s attempting career suicide.

Stevens: Your right, Riley. We should try to get a word with Danny Williams after the match, to find out for sure, if he is at 100% or not.

Williams enters the ring and starts marching towards Funyon, who is in the process of reading the last line of his index card.....

“tonight’s official is Nick Soap....DAAAAAAAAAH!”

Suddenly, Williams snatches the mic from Funyon, who in turn, dives out of the ring like he’s under machine gun fire!

Stevens: It seems that Williams has something to say.

Riley: Oh, Williams is gonna talk....WILLIAMS IS GONNA TALK?

Williams taps the mic a few times to test the volume, before barking into the mic,”The last time you saw me, I was being beating unconscious by Jamie Drazon!”

The name drop sparks a mixed reaction from the crowd, Ced just rests in the corner with his hand supporting his chin like he’s fighting off sleep.

“After watching that, it’s pretty easy to come to the conclusion that I don’t belong in the same ring with Drazon again.”, Williams pauses before continuing,”The sad thing is that judging by that performance, that conclusion is correct.”

The crowd remain quiet, wandering where Williams is gonna with this before responding.

“However, I refuse to roll over and die, not after I worked so hard to get at the level that I’m at!” snarls Williams in a more positive tone,”I’ve come back for a reason! I’ve come back to prove to the Commissioner and Jamie Drazon himself, that nobody wants the ICTV title more than me! Tonight in this very ring, I will prove that I have came back the way I left, the number one contender for the ICTV Title!”

The crowd gives a somewhat mixed reaction, some remain confused and quiet, while a few others cheer.

Williams points to Ced,”You see that man in that corner? That man hates my guts, and would like nothing more than to see me retired like him! And right now, I’m gonna show him, why he’s retired, and why I’m still one of the best the SWF has to offer!”

And with that Williams throws down the mic, and takes position in his corner. With both men in place, Soapdish calls for the bell.

DING! DING! DING!

The fans applaud as a fired up Ced bounces out of his corner with an unusually intense expression on his face, while Williams confidently, dare I say arrogantly, struts out of his corner towards him with his chin raised high and proud.

Stevens: Danny Williams had very strong words for Drazon and Ced before the start of this match up....

Riley: Yeah, but let’s see if he can back them up.

The two grapplers carefully circle each other, looking for the slightest hint of an opening, but none is to be found. With the possibility of landing any of their favorite strikes being out of the question, the two decide it’s best to lock up in a grapple. With out stretched arms, Williams and Ced lunge at each other....

SMACK!

Ced slams an UBER STIFF Roundhouse Kick into Williams’ exposed chest just as he steps in range! His chest blistering almost immediately, Williams stops dead in his tracks, paralyzed with pain!

Stevens: Ced, scoring early with an out of character cheap shot!

Riley: I told you he was still pissed over the get his head slammed into that damn DDR machine.

Looking to put Danny down for good, Ced snaps off a high Roundhouse Kick....

CRACK!

that finds it’s mark on Williams’ jaw!

Stevens: Williams felt that one!

Riley: Hell, even I felt that one!

Refusing to go down, a violently trembling Danny Williams curls his fists into his forearms and brings them into his chest as if he’s summoning a mystical power from some unknown source to absorb the crippling pain shooting through his nervous system!

Stevens: Williams is going down.....no, it looks like he’s hulking up!

Successfully fighting off the effects of the kick, Williams causally relaxes and cracks a smile as if to let Ced know he just took one of his best shots and lived to tell the tale. Admiring Williams’ determination, the crowd energetically stomps their feet in support. Pretending to be unimpressed, Ced sarcastically claps, though it’s obvious he can’t believe what he just saw.

Stevens: Through sheer force of will power, Danny Williams has withstood a lethal kick combination that would have killed a lesser man.

Riley: Williams has got to be (bleep)ing crazy to just shake a kick to the head like it’s nothing.

Stevens: I don’t think crazy is the correct word, more like determination. For the past few weeks, Williams has been sitting at home, watching other people move up the ranks while he sets dormant. Tonight, he has to prove to Drazon, the Commissioner, these people, and himself that he is at the same level at which he left, and deserves another shot at the ICTV title.

Williams pops his jaw a few times, and offers Ced a second chance to lock up with him. After some brief pondering, Ced rushes in, locking arms with Williams in another collar elbow tie up. In an instant, Williams forcefully frees himself from the grapple, and catches Ced flush on the jaw with a surprise Elbow Smash!

CRACK!

Sweat particles fly into the air as Ced shockingly hits the mat like a sack of bricks! Having not expected this, the fans jump out of their seats in excitement!

Stevens: UNBELIEVABLE! Williams has just floored Ced with a single elbow smash!

Riley: You have got to be kidding me!

Showing no compassion for his victim, Williams immediately takes hold of Ced’s wrist to pull him up for some more punishment, but to his surprise, Ced is as limp as a corpse. Not letting this opportunity go to waste, Williams frantically covers Ced up for the pin. The shocked crowd is left with nothing to do, but count along.

Stevens: AND THIS MAY BE IT!

“ONE!”

“TWO!”

“THREE!”

NO! Ced shoots a shoulder up, drawing a collective sigh from the crowd. Williams keeps his cool, casually getting back on his feet.

Stevens: Ced was just inches away from being in the SWF history books.

Riley: Yeah, I’d hate to be the guy that suffered the quickest knock out loss in history.

Stevens: Unlike Danny Williams, Ced wasn’t able to withstand his opponent’s best strike. It seems that Williams’ motivation for success is greater than Ced’s motivation for revenge.

Riley: Nonsense, hate is the most powerful motivational tool a man can have. That’s what got me to the top.

Stevens: Ha, Ha, that was a good one, Riley.

Riley: but......I wasn’t joking.

Williams bends over, taking hold of Ced’s hair in an attempt to get him back up, but Ced brings his long flexible leg up, slamming his boot into Williams’ temple!

Crack!

Williams staggers back into the ropes, clutching his head and wincing!

Riley: Williams is hurt, Williams is hurt!

Stevens: Perhaps Williams isn’t quite one hundred percent recovered from that concussion.

Riley: Or maybe, Ced can just kick really (bleep)ing hard!

With Williams off his ass, Ced rushes to his feet in hopes of establishing some offense. However, as soon as Ced is up, Williams puts his head ache on hold and explodes off the ropes at him, rotating his body into a 360 spin, unleashing one of his favorite weapons....

Stevens: ROLLING ELBOW!

but Ced extends his leg, catching Williams in the arm with a High Kick! This brings Williams charge to an abrupt halt, but only for a second. Not to be denied, Danny spins in place and fires again....

Riley: WATCH OUT CED!

but it’s ducked! Williams swings back around, finding Ced waiting for him! Ced leaps into the air like a frog, twists his body completely sideways in mid air, and fires off a Roundhouse Kick at Williams’ face.....

Stevens: GAMENGIRI!

that is blocked! Ced splats on the mat, while Williams blows back into the ropes from the impact! Realizing his mistake, Ced scrambles back to his feet like his life depends on it.....

CRACK!

only to caught with a jaw shattering Spinning Elbow as he gets up!

Stevens: HE HIT IT! ROLLING ELBOW! ROLLING ELBOW! ROLLING ELBOOOOOOOOOOOW!!!

Riley: He damn near took his head off with that one!

Ced lifelessly spirals to the mat as if he just took a shot gun blast to the head, while the crowd blows the roof off the place! Williams drops to his knees, and falls on top of Ced for the lackluster pin attempt.

“ONE!”

“TWO!”

“THREE!”

DING! DING! DING!

Williams jumps back to his feet, and starts running circles around the ring with his arms raised victoriously in the air! The crowd can’t help but join in on the celebration, cheering along with Williams! The crowd’s cheers take shape into a frantic, “DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E!” chant.

Stevens: I DON’T BELIEVE IT, Williams has knocked out Ced in just over a minute’s time!

Riley: Dammit, I thought Ced would at least give Danny a good run! Thank god, King didn’t save this for the PPV!

Soapdish chases after Williams, eventually catching him, so he can raise his arm to make the win official!

Funyon: The winner of the match by pinfall at 1 minute and 22 seconds.....DANNY WILLIAMS!

Danny hops up on the second turnbuckle, bringing his hand across his belt line to show that he will be wearing a title very soon.

Riley: Ah, he hasn’t proved a damn thing in my eyes. Let’s see him knock out an active wrestler that easily.

Taking notice to the fact that Ced still hasn’t stirred, Williams ceases to celebrate. Soapdish tries frantically to revive Ced by pouring a bottle of water on him, while a concerned Danny Williams watches on. The crowd’s “DAN-E!” chant, gradually morphs into an “OR-DON-EZ!” chant. It isn’t until after several tense moments, that Ced begins to show some signs of life. Soapdish helps Ced to his feet, where he is met with a standing ovation from the crowd. Soapdish begins to walk Ced towards the ropes, but suddenly, Ced breaks away from the official and staggers back towards Danny. Before Williams can react, Ced grabs Williams by the wrist, and raises his arm. The crowd gives an even louder ovation, threatening to tear the place down.

Stevens: And a loose knot has been tied as Ced finally forgives Danny Williams for ending his career.

Riley: Bah, no wonder the guy’s a ref now.

Ced lowers Williams’ arm, and rolls out of the ring, making his way back to the locker room by himself. Ben Hardy enters the ring, nearly tripping over his own mic chord, before getting Williams’ attention.

Stevens: Right now, let’s go to ringside where Ben Hardy is standing by with tonight’s victor, Danny Williams.

Wearing a huge television grin, Hardy starts the interview,”First off, Danny, I’d like to congratulate you on a breath taking victory.”

Williams nods, and than makes the comment,”I did what I set out to do, to prove that I deserve another shot at the ICTV title.”

“And that you did, Danny.”, complements Hardy, before continuing the interview,”So I guess the question that’s on everybody’s mind right now....is have you been cleared by a doctor.”

“No, I cleared myself. I don’t have time to sit around and wait for some doctor to give me permission to do my job. Besides, I wrestled two weeks with a concussion before taking off.”

With a surprised look on his face, Hardy asks,”Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I had a concussion going into the ladder match for the ICTV Title. But I am not here to make excuses, I came here to make my case for a rematch, and I think I accomplished that goal!”

With out warning, colorful fireworks light up the arena like it’s the fourth of July!

"THIS

IS

MAH

HOUSE!!"

Williams is than rudely interrupted by the heavy riffs of Rammestein! The crowd gives a surprised reaction as Jamie Drazon appears on the entrance ramp, wearing his title proudly around his waist, he hurries his way down to the ring with a sense of purpose. Williams looks a bit a unnerved, but the holds his ground, as Drazon approaches him. Drazon snatches the mic out of Danny’s hand, and snarls.....

“If you wanted a shot at the title all you had to do was ask, you don’t have to come down here talking (bleep) about me.”

Williams blurts out an inaudible “huh?” at this allegation.

“You heard me! Your nothing but a whiner, a little bitch who can’t except defeat like a man. Always with the excuses, concussion this, concussion that? Do you think you’re the only person that has had to wrestle injured?”

Williams shakes his head in an obvious “no”, but Drazon could care less what his response is.

“So you think your ready for me, huh? You think you have what it takes to take this away from me?” , growls Drazon while pointing to his title.

CRACK!

Without warning, Drazon decapitates Williams with a lighting, fast, Spin Kick out of nowhere!

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

Drazon shouts over the “boos”, and points down to Williams’ carcass,”Does that look like a number one contender to you? You know what, it doesn’t matter, this asshole has got himself a title match!”

The crowd gives a minimal pop, more out of the promise of the match than Drazon’s actions.

“You hear that, Danny!”, asks Drazon while nudging Williams’ head with his boot,”You got until SWF Battleground to get yourself healthy, than I’m gonna show you once and for all why a sorry ass bitch like you don’t belong in my league.”

THUMP!

Drazon slams the mic down, and makes his way to the back while the crowd curses his name. Soapdish and Ben Hardy help Williams up, but he doesn’t look hurt, he looks terrified.

Stevens: So it looks like it’s gonna be Drazon/Williams for the ICTV Title at Battleground! Stay tuned folks, because we’ve just got started.

April 19, 2003

Our camera brings us back in and immediately to Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley, sitting behind the SWF Storm desk. Stevens smiles into the camera and begins to speak.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to SWF Storm!” Stevens grins hugely before continuing. “Tonight we could see a new champion, as Frost goes one on one with The Superior One – “

“The Superior, One and Only World Champion, One Tom Flesher, Mark.”

“…as Frost goes one on one with Tom Flesher for the SWF World Heavyweight Championship! Also up tonight, we have a huge Inferno match between Jay Dawg and Neilsen of the Jungle!”

“And also tonight, we have the greatest tag team ever, Justice and Rule, going two-on-two with those rookie bastards, Kris and Kross, better known as Déjà Vu.”

“Hopefully they don’t tickle anybody this week.”

“Hopefully they forfeit so I don’t have to watch their patheticosity.”

“…right. But now, ladies and gentlemen, we have Mike Van Siclen going one on one with Johnny Dangerous, the number one contendership to the SWF United States championship on the line! Funyon, take it…”

The lights throughout the arena go off save one, a spotlight shining down into the center of the ring where Funyon stands, suit black and tie gold as he begins to speak.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the NUMBER ONE CONTENDERSHIP to the SWF United States Championship!”

“Introducing first…”

The four quick cymbals and even quicker guitar riff that begins “Damage Done” by Dark Tranquility blasts throughout the arena, as the lights go out and blue strobes begins to flash in time with the music. Mike Van Siclen steps onto the ramp, his arms extending in a bent crucifix under his acid-green jacket as the crowd… boos him! He spins around the on the ramp, grinning like a madman despite the boos as he breaks out of his spin cycle and steps cockily down the entrance ramp, sliding into the ring and extending his arms to the side, dropping his arms and letting his jacket slide off and to the mat. Referee Billy Chioda, hassled, picks it up, as Mike motions with his hands for the crowd to give him more boos... and they gladly oblige.

“Weighing in at two-hundred and thirty-seven pounds, he hails from Harrison, Illinois! Ladies and gentlemen, the SWF is PROUD to present MIIIIIIIIIIKE VA-AN SIIIIIC-LEEEEEN!”

The crowd pops slightly for Van Siclen’s name as the lights go up but quickly go back down, a female voice saying “Johnny Dangerous!” and the fans responding with a loud roar of cheers!

Suddenly the theme from “Mission Impossible 2” by Limp Bizkit rocks out from the massive wall to wall sound system as colorful arrays of lights begins circling over the arena. On the screen various clips of Johnny Dangerous performing many spy like actions mixed with clips of Johnny’s in ring fights are displayed.

“Introducing his opponent! Weighing in at two-hundred and ten pounds, he hails from Las Vegas, Nevada! He is the Barracuda, JOOOOOOOOOHNNNY DAAAAAAAAAAAAAANGEROUS!”

Johnny strides from backstage and to the ring with out a care in the world, taking the time to wink at a few ladies before hopping foot into the ring. Dangerous grins at the crowd once more before turning to Van Siclen, adjusting his tie and stretching the ropes as he waits for the bell…

.:ding ding ding:.

…and it’s on.

Van Siclen and Dangerous circle for a few seconds, both men feeling each other out a bit before Johnny charges in and Van Siclen does too, the two locking up in the center of the ring! Mike gets the upper hand, turning around and grabbing Johnny around the neck, bringing him over with a snapmare. Johnny hits the mat, and Mike quickly heaves the Barracuda to his feet, kicking him in the gut to double him over and applying a DDT hold. He raises one arm, the crowd booing him heavily as they know what is to come – the Code Red, one of Van Siclen’s favorite signature moves! The Spectacle nods his head, the look in his eyes plainly saying “what-am-I-doing?” but his actions like those of a psychopathic individual as he keeps one arm in the air, waiting for the perfect time to turn and burn.

But that time never comes!

Johnny gives Mike a quick jab to the kidneys, and Van Siclen hops back, grabbing his kidney with his free hand while still managing to keep the hold on Johnny. Van Siclen steps forward, still looking to deliver the Code Red, but Johnny catches him with another kidney punch, and Van Siclen staggers back again, this time his grip on the DDT hold loosening enough for Johnny to pop his head free! He slides it up along Van Siclen’s shoulder so that it’s underneath the Spectacle’s jaw, jumping up and then sitting out and cracking Mike’s jaw against the top of his head!

“Van Siclen looks for the Code Red early, but Dangerous managed to reverse it into the sweet sitout jawbreaker, and now Johnny D is in control!”

“It won’t last, though – Mike is just too clever for Johnny.”

The crowd roars for the jawbreaker as Van Siclen pops back up, grabbing his jaw and stumbling away from Johnny, who gets up quickly and sets himself up, slapping his leg, signaling for the Johnny Kick! Van Siclen continues to stumble around, shaking his head repeatedly to get the kinks out before turning back around – and Johnny’s leg flies up into the air, aimed directly for Van Siclen’s head…

But the Spectacle slides underneath it! As Johnny lunges Van Siclen slides underneath the leg, sliding straight at Dangerous’ anchor leg and scissoring it, knocking it out from underneath Johnny with a vicious drop toe hold that sends the Dangerous one back-first to the mat! Dangerous grabs his head, which impacted first after the fall, as Van Siclen stares down at Dangerous on the mat and then at the top rope, and he grins wickedly, knowing exactly what to do.

“Van Siclen slides underneath the Johnny Kick and catches Dangerous with a slick drop toe hold, and now Van Siclen has turned the tide back in his direction!”

“I told you Mike was too clever for Johnny, but nooooo…”

Van Siclen turns away from Johnny, staring longingly at the turnbuckle as he walks towards it, as though enchanted by it. The crowd, definitely pro-Dangerous, begins to boo as Van Siclen deliberately puts one foot on the bottom rope… then the other one… on the mat, Dangerous gets up as Van Siclen continues to egg on the Rose Garden fans, slowly ascending the ropes. Finally, he hits the top, saluting the fans before turning around to face Johnny… who is up near the ropes and yanks down on the top one, causing Van Siclen to lose his footing and crotch himself on the buckle, eliciting an “OOOH!” of pain from the crowd.

The Spectacle’s arms quickly move to his testes as Dangerous, seeing Mike out, looks to take advantage, bouncing off the ropes on the opposite side of the ring from Van Siclen and then coming straight at him, hopping just before impact and landing perfectly on the second rope, springboarding himself off of it and extending his legs in a dropkick, which he delivers straight to the side of Mike’s jaw! The Spectacle doesn’t have time to react to this one like he did to the Johnny Kick and as a result gets nailed, the momentum of Johnny causing Van Siclen to fall off of the turnbuckle and to the thinly padded floor below!

“Springboard dropkick to Van Siclen’s jaw, and you better believe he’ll be feeling THAT one tomorrow morning!”

“No he won’t, because he’ll be smart enough to buy ice at the store.”

“… if only your arguments weren’t so irrational.”

The crowd roars as Van Siclen attempts to gain his bearings on the outside, grabbing his jaw in pain as he uses one arm to push himself up to his knees. He turns his head, looking into the ring and seeing Johnny Dangerous regaining his balance, while still managing to wave to a few loyal fans. Incensed, Van Siclen pushes himself up to his feet, grabbing his jaw once more and stalking over to the ring. Johnny, seeing him, runs to the ropes opposite Van Siclen, bouncing off of them and coming flying back at Mike, sliding under the bottom rope and looking to catch the Spectacle with a baseball slide dropkick…

…but Van Siclen steps calmly to the side, and Johnny overshoots home plate by a mile, sliding himself straight out of the ring! The crowd boos heavily as Van Siclen smiles, tapping his temple with his pointer finger, a move that only angers the crowd more. Van Siclen grins, looking at Johnny’s body down on the mat and faintly hearing referee Chioda’s ten-count hitting four as he goes over to the rail, patting it with one hand and shaking the hand of a Shaq-jersey wearing fan, whispering to him “make sure none of these Trail Blazer fans knock me out, kay?” The fan nods and Mike grins, looking at Johnny groaning on his back and then back to the crowd. He takes a deep breath…

And then leaps into the air, jumping right onto the rail! The crowd… is slightly apathetic, but their apathy turns to roars and flashbulbs as Van Siclen leaps backwards as soon as he lands, arching his back beautifully as he backflips, his body outstretched and aimed directly for Johnny D…

WHUMPH!

Chioda’s count hits seven as Van Siclen lands on Johnny with a perfect rail moonsault, the crowd’s initial pop turning into massive boos as Van Siclen grabs his ribs coming off of Johnny, wincing in pain but then shaking it off and going over to the ring, rolling inside and then back out to restart the count.

“Van Siclen avoids the baseball slide dropkick, and he catches Johnny with a beautiful Rail Biter moonsault!”

“Beautiful, yes. As beautiful as Tom Flesher’s title reign, oh hell no.”

“Bobby, why don’t you try actually calling the Goddamn match?”

Van Siclen goes over to Dangerous, lifting the Barracuda to his feet as the count restarts. Mike drags Johnny over to the side of the ring with all of the rails, taking him to the middle of this area and posing before grabbing JD by the arm. He whips Dangerous at a rail, following closely behind. As Johnny hits the rail, bending over it, Mike is close behind, looking to leap up and catch Johnny in the back of the head with a flying knee...

But Johnny ducks it, and Van Siclen’s elevated leg flies over the rail while his other one catches the rail, causing Mike to get crotched on it just like the turnbuckle earlier! Once again Van Siclen’s hands are relegated to ball-duty as Dangerous lay on the outside, breathing for a few seconds as Chioda’s count hits five. Hearing this, Dangerous rolls over onto his stomach, pushing himself to his feet and stumbling over to the ring. He slides inside, breaking up the count, and slides back out, grabbing Mike Van Siclen by the hair and lifting him to his feet, preparing for his next move.

“Dangerous ducks the dastardly heel tactic from Van Siclen, and now he’s in control of this match!”

“No he’s not – MVS has him right where he wants him!”

Dangerous grabs Van Siclen’s long black hair and the top of his tights, rolling him into the ring and following closely after. Once back inside the ring, Dangerous lifts Van Siclen up once more, bringing him closer to the turnbuckle before planting a knee into his back, doubling the Spectacle over backwards! The crowd roars, expecting the Cover Up as Dangerous backs up even further, climbing the ropes backwards… bottom, middle, and top, and Johnny stands on the top rope, holding Mike in a reverse DDT hold!

Dangerous lets out a huge yell, the crowd yelling back as Dangerous leaps forward, flipping forward and looking to bring Van Siclen with him in a diamond cutter… but Van Siclen’s hands are firmly clasped on the ropes, and Johnny’s momentum causes him to hit the mat hard empty-handed! The crowd boos Van Siclen as he turns to face them, once again tapping his temple repeatedly with his pointer finger to the fans’ chagrin! Mike turns back around, facing a downed Johnny Dangerous and smiling widely, knowing that he can finish him right here.

“Van Siclen somehow manages to avoid the Cover Up, and now he’s got Johnny Dangerous down!”

“What was that, Mark? Mike doesn’t have Johnny right where he wants him?”

Van Siclen grabs Johnny by the arm, lifting Dangerous to his feet. The Spectacle bends over, putting his head between Johnny’s legs and then standing up fully, grabbing Johnny by the legs so that he dangles from Van Siclen’s shoulders like a man hung upside-down. Van Siclen turns around, facing the turnbuckle, and the crowd, thinking they might know what Mike is going to do, begins ROARING out in boos, but Mike just smiles sickly – he doesn’t care what they think.

“Van Siclen has Johnny set up for the Van Slaminator, and Bobby, I think he wants to climb the ropes for this one!”

“Oooh, delightfully sick. Go Mike!”

Van Siclen, a bit unsteadily, places one foot on the bottom rope – and then, gaining some confidence, he puts the other foot there. He cautiously lifts one foot to the middle rope… and then lifts the other one there. He lifts his leg one more time, looking to go top rope – but Johnny cuts him off, whipping forward with his legs, his momentum dragging Van Siclen to the mat in Sunset Flip position! The crowd erupts as Johnny holds Van Siclen’s legs in place, looking for a pin!..

“ONE!”

“TWO!”

“THR – TWO COUNT!” Van Siclen backrolls out of the pinning predicament, and the crowd, anxious for a Dangerous win, begins chanting.

“JOHN-NY D! JOHN-NY D!”

“These fans are definitely pro-Dangerous, Mark.”

“Yeah, and I’m pro-life, but nobody’s chanting my name.”

Awkward silence follows as Dangerous stands up, facing Van Siclen down. The two stare at each other for a little while, both breathing heavily, but then Mike catches Johnny with a huge knee to the stomach! Dangerous doubles over, and Van Siclen grabs him by the waist and slams his head between his legs, putting Johnny into a standing headscissors! The crowd roars out in boos as Mike, keeping a hard lock on Johnny’s head between his legs, lifts Johnny by the waist into a position so that their bodies are parallel, only with Johnny’s head facing straight down!

Van Siclen steps forward, over Johnny’s legs, and stays there for a few seconds, practically daring Johnny to Hurricanrana him – and Lord knows he wants to, but Van Siclen’s vicelike scissorhold on his head prevents him from arching it to do so, and instead Johnny squirms helplessly against Van Siclen’s grip until Mike steps forward once more, then drops to his knees, driving Johnny’s head into the mat with a knees-out styles clash, or the Riot Act!

Van Siclen lets go of Dangerous, letting him fall forward and flat onto his face. He doesn’t move at all as Van Siclen rolls him over onto his back and makes the academic cover…

“ONE!”

“TWO!”

“THRE…”

Dangerous realizes what he’s looking at – lights… can he kick out, though?

“…E!”

Nope.

.:Ding Ding Ding:.

The crowd lets out a collective groan as Mike rolls off of Johnny and out of the ring, Funyon reaching for his microphone and beginning his announcement.

“Ladies and gentlemen YOUR winner, via pinfall at nine minutes, twenty-one seconds, and the NEEEEEEEW number one contender to the SWF UNITED STATES Championship… MIIIIIIIKE VA-AN SICLEN!”

Van Siclen points into the ring, at Johnny Dangerous, slowly getting to his feet, and give him a condescending round of applause. Angry, Johnny rolls out of the ring and goes to charge Mike… but Van Siclen waves his arms, mouthing “Don’t hurt the #1 contender”. Incensed, Johnny tries to charge Van Siclen, but security steps between the two as Mike, laughing, turns around and exits. And we…

…fade out…

April 19, 2003

We come back from commercial break to an overfilling Rose Garden in Portland, Oregon for SWF Storm! The camera zooms in on two fans making British soccer hooligans seem like pacifists before quickly cutting to the announcers table. "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley continue to man the table and call the night's action.

"Welcome back to STORM! Mark Stevens with Riley by my side and if you missed it, we just had one hell of a match between Mike Van Siclen and Johnny Dangerous," says Stevens.

"And we would just LOVE to tell you who won too," says Riley, "But if you missed it that's your own damn fault!"

"I wish I could get my head out of the sand, 'cause I think we'd make a good team..." croons Rivers Cuomo of Weezer, getting the attention of the crowd and causing some of them to sing along.

"Not enough time to say anything more, because here's our next fight tonight! Beezel! Janus! Hardcore Gamers Title!" exclaims Stevens.

"Without shaking, I ain't fakin... I'll bring home the turkey if you bring home the bacon"

No sooner does the crowd pick up the final words before the chorus before a sheet of red fire shoots up from the entrance ramp and disappear just as fast. From out of the smoke comes the flame covered Beezel with microphone in hand, directing the rest of the audience...

I'M A LOT LIKE YOU, SO PLEASE. HELLO? I'M HERE! I'M WAAAAAITING

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

Funyon stands up from his seat and raises his microphone to his mouth to speak, "Ladies and Gentlemen, our next bout which is scheduled for one fall is for the HARDCORE GAMER'S TITLE!" He waits for the crowd to die down a bit before adding, "First, on his way to the ring, from Phoenix, Arizona and weighing in at two hundred five pounds... BEEEEEEZEEEEEEEEL!"

The high flyer does his usual song and dance act on the ring steps before throwing his microphone to the referee Nick Soapdish. He climbs the steps for real and steps inside, doing a few jumping jacks while waiting non-chalantly for his opponent.

"I think this whole thing is a hoax," muses Riley, "How do we know this guy is legit? For all we know this might be that idiot Spark in a flame suit!"

"I for one would be pleased to see Spark back in this league, regardless of who Beezel may or may not be," says Stevens.

Suddenly the arena gets plunged into total darkness. 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 again, 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 that get interspersed with flashes of his name and "Magnificent Seven". The giant steps out onto the rampway, belt resting upon his shouler, lit only by a spotlight as Funyon lifts up his microphone.

"His opponent," begins Funyon, "From Sydney, Australia and weighing in at three hundred fifty pounds. Representing the Magnificent Seven, he is the CURRENT S. W. F. HARDCORE GAMER'S CHAMPION... JAAAAANUUUUUUUS!"

Janus makes no extra motion in getting to the ring. Once reaching the ring steps he skips the first step then the third, making it to the apron into two steps. Janus then steps over the top rope and walks straight towards his opponent, making Beezel feel the entire fifteen inches missing between the two. Soapdish tries to separate the two men with his arms but only manages to get Beezel to step backwards. Janus shrugs the belt off his shoulder and allows the official to pick it up before reaching back and slugging Beezel right in the jaw. The high flier gets knocked back onto his ass completely shocked by the speed of the blow. Soapdish takes the attack as a good signal as any to begin the match...

DING

"Did you SEE the right hand of Janus?" asks Riley, "He nearly KILLED Beezel! Woohoo!"

Beezel kips up to his feet, feeling his jaw with his hand. He leans back into the ropes and charges into Janus, and falls right onto his back. The high flier kips to his feet again and turns, running at the set of ropes to his right. Beezel returns with a flying cross body and runs into the brick wall that is Janus a second time. El Scorcho simply bounces off Janus and rolls away in pain. Scrambling to his feet, Beezel attempt to get a charmed third attempt started. He rebounds off the ropes and charges at Janus, deciding this time to slide between the giants legs. Skidding to a halt, Beezel shoots a fist straight up and right into Janus' family jewels! The giant grunts in pain and doubles over! Soapdish starts to berate Beezel but stops as he remembers the rules of the fight.

"Well that didn't take long," says Riley, "You know Beezel couldn't last ten seconds in a normal fight with Janus, he's lucky this is hardcore."

"Frankly, I don't blame him at all," rebuts Stevens, "With his size, survival becomes the main priority, not winning or losing."

Beezel gets to his feet and races to the ropes. Rebounding with great speed, Beezel tries to grab Janus' head for an attempted bulldog... but the giant roars and straightens up. He catches the high flier by the neck with his massive hand, and SLAMS him down to the mat with authority! The giant rises back to his feet, shaking one leg and then the other in an attempt to lessen the pain from the earlier cheap shot.

"Ha, serves him right," laughs Riley.

Janus gets an idea and follows through, walking towards the ropes and allowin his weight to stretch them back. The giant leans forward, letting the ring ropes give him extra speed as he jogs to the middle of the ring. Janus then lets his feet leave the ground, landing with one massive leg dropping onto the smaller man's throat! Beezel's lower body flies into the air as his upper body remains still on the mat. Janus keeps his leg on the high flyer, egging Soapdish to make a count...

ONE! TWO! THR... KICKOUT!

"An incredibly close fall for Janus and things look incredibly bleak early for Beezel! The match hasn't even stepped that far out of the boundaries of a normal match," says Stevens, "Someone is going to need medical help if Janus feels the need to reach under the ring for a weapon."

"TAKE A STEEL CHAIR! *clap clap clapclapclap*" cheers Riley, "TAKE A STEEL CHAIR! *clap clap clapclapclap*"

Janus shifts himself into a kneeling position by his opponent, almost smiling at the resistance from the smaller man. The giant gets up, forcing Beezel to his feet with him. Janus grabs Beezel's arm and whips him HARD into the corner, almost causing the high flier to go over the top rope with the force of impact. Janus walks into the corner and begins landing hard right hands right into the ribs of El Scorcho. Soapdish almost makes a count but restrains himself as the audience rains boos towards the Magnificent Seven member. Janus continues the onslaught until Beezel crumbles into a seated position in the corner of the ring. Satisfied in the punishment he just dished out to his opponent, Janus drags the lighter man back to his feet and gives him another hard Irish Whip into the opposite corner. Beezel hits the corner with such force that only his arms wrapped around the top rope keep him from collapsing to the mat completely.

"I hope after Janus keeps his face intact enough for us to identify the fool after he unmasks him," jokes Riley.

"He may not have a chance to, this match has been Janus' from the get go," explains Stevens, "And now... oh no, this may be the end right here!"

Janus stands across the ring from his opponent, slapping his shoulder hard and shuffling his feet on the mat. Some of the more sensitive members of the audience begin to cry out against the giant as he signals for a gore in the corner! El Scorcho makes no movement except for the slight up and down motion of his chest from breathing.

"Yes! Drill the loser to hell and show this league who the truly SUPERIOR fighter is!" exclaims Riley in a frenzy of bloodlust.

"If any children are watching at home," interrupts Mark, "You may want them to turn away, I don't think this next scene can be pretty."

Janus screams to the heavens then charges forward as fast as his feet can bring him towards his opponent. The giant bends down and aims his shoulder directly for Beezel's ribcage, and catches nothing but STEEL POST as Beezel drops down and rolls out of the ring in the nick of time! The crowd explodes as the weary high flier drops to his knees and begins to search without a second look at his anguished opponent. Janus' face is filled with pain and frustration as he screams out, hoping to alieviate the damage his shoulder took. Beezel comes out from hiding under the ring apron with his hands empty. He staggers to the announce table and roughly shoves Riley out of his chair. Bobby emits a high pitched yelp before falling to the concrete as El Scorcho folds up the chair that Riley was occupying. Without thinking Beezel brings the chair back and whips it HARD into the shoulder of Janus, sandwiching the giants arm between steel and steel!

"Beezel barely escapes and IMMEDIATELY takes the fight directly to Janus!" exclaims Stevens.

Beezel brings the chair back again and WHACKS Janus in the shoulder a second time. Then a third, fourth, fifth follow, as El Scorcho wails upon the giant. The crowd counts along with the clanging strikes...

"SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE! TEN!!!" shouts the crowd ecstatically.

Beezel then drops the steel chair to the ground and hops up knee first onto the ring apron.

"Look at how mangled the steel chair is! It looks like Beezel took that chair and swung it into an oncoming train! Janus might be lucky if his shouler is just separated after that onslaught!" exclaims Stevens.

"Can't he be disqualified for that???" screams Riley.

"Of course not Bobby, steel chairs are legal weapons in a hardcore match!" rebuts Stevens.

"Not for that!" exclaims riley, "For stealing MY chair to do it with! Look at it! What the hell am I going to sit on now???"

Beezel steps through the ropes and pulls hard on the waist of Janus, trying to separate him from the ring post. The giant comes free but gains enough composure to use his free arm to push Beezel with all his strength. El Scorcho ends up flying backwards and landing on his shoulders, rolling through to his hands and knees. Janus tries to roll his right arm but the second he moves it he feels as if sharp knives are stabbing into his arm from all sides. The pain sends the giant into a rage and Janus charges at the rising Beezel. With his arm in pain, Janus sends his foot up for a Big Boot, but Beezel rolls underneath him! El Scorcho kips up to his feet and sends a high dropkick right into Janus' injured right shoulder! The sharp renewal of pain causes the giant to scream out and drop to one knee, while Beezel uses his opponent's distraction to roll out of the ring and search for an equalizer.

"Beezel's looking for a weapon, and Janus is looking for a hospital visit!" exclaims Stevens, "And to think we both were writing off the mystery man as dead in this match!"

"I'm STILL writing him off as dead! It only remains to be seen whether or not anyone can identify the corpse after Janus gets all his anger out on Beezel!" rebuts Riley.

A muffled robotic laugh can be heard by the fans closest to Beezel as he slowly drags his torso out from under the ring apron. He keeps pulling on an object hidden by the ring curtain, but is slowly revealed to be a wooden table! With a manic speed Beezel pulls the legs up and locks them into their extended position. With the table ready the high flier quickly flips the table onto its new found legs and pushes it close to the nearest corner of the ring. El Scorcho then turns around to get into the ring, but then finds his head being squeezed by a very angry giant!

"Uh oh, be nice Janus!" jokes Riley, "We want to find out just what the mystery man was hiding!"

Janus takes the opportunity to roughly drag the masked man inside the ring by his cranium. Beezel pushes and pulls trying to find excape from the cinchlike grasp on his head but to no avail. El Scorcho finds his body stepping through the ropes for him trying to keep up with the speed that his head is being pulled at. With his opponent completely inside the ring, Janus tugs hard on Beezel's head while raising his knee up. The giant's knee drives right into the ribcage of the lighter man and El Scorcho finds the wind completely knocked out of him! Janus releases his handhold on Beezel's head only to lock his gigantic arm around his neck and fall backward, driving Beezel's head into the canvas! Janus screams out as the impact from the attack irritates his injured shoulder even more. The giant tries to block out the pain however as he rolls over and pushes Beezel onto his back. Janus gets his hurt arm over Beezel's shoulders causing Soapdish to drop to the mat for a count...

ONE! TWO! THRE... NO! KICKOUT!

"Close call for Beezel but he's still in big trouble," explains Stevens, "Even with his opponent hurt, Janus has taken the match and slowed it down. Janus is comfortable in a slow methodical tempo and doesn't want Beezel to use his speed to any advantage."

"You need a brain to command your body to be fast Mark," rebuts Riley, "And if the noggin is noodled the body is in deep..."

"Strudel," interrups Mark.

Janus screams in rage. His face shows his frustration as he gets up to his knees. The giant grabs Beezel by the face and rises to his feet, causing the high flier to hold on to the big man's good arm to keep himself from being separated from his body by the neck. Janus pulls Beezel into himself and drives his knee deep into his gut once, twice, three times. El Scorcho feels the pressure from his head recede but can only double over in pain from the sheer strength of the blows to his midsection. Janus grabs Beezel by the arm and gives him an Irish whip into the ropes. On his opponent's rebound, the giant grabs El Scorcho by his good arm and lifts him into the air. Janus turns around and slams Beezel backfirst in a spinebuster! The audience collectively gasps at the feat of strength they just witnessed.

"DID YOU SEE THAT?" screams Riley, "He just gave Beezel a spinebuster with ONE ARM! One arm! Do you know how much strength that takes?"

"I can imagine, and so can the audience as Janus has taken them out of the contest completely. If Beezel is the type of guy that feeds off the audience, he's in deep trouble indeed!" exclaims Stevens.

Janus crawls with his good arm to get closer to Beezel's upper body. Reaching his destination, the giants kneels back and uses the hand on his good arm to wrap his hand around the comparitively tiny neck of Beezel and squeeze with all his strength. El Scorcho tugs the the meaty wrist of Janus but has nowhere near the strength to pull the beast off of him. Beezel kicks hard on the mat and attempts to roll but the giant screams his frustration into the high flier's face and squeezes even harder on the smaller man's throat. Soapdish asks for a submission but can't hear any response from the airless throat of Beezel. El Scorcho waves his hand dismissively which the official takes correctly as a 'no'.

"I think he submitted!" exclaims Riley, "He did! Ring the bell because my man Janus has retained the belt!"

"No, he definitly just waved off Soapdish! Beezel isn't giving up, but he's nowhere NEAR the ropes, how is he going to escape?" asks Stevens.

"He ISN'T! Ha ha, this is great!" jokes Riley.

Beezel calms his mind for a second to asses the situation and comes up with an idea. Arching his back up, Beezel sneaks his feet closer to his body. With all the force he can muster, he throws his legs in the air, with the one farther away from Janus ahead of the other. When his lower body stopped at their peak, Beezel shoots the second leg forward and VICIOUSLY kicks Janus in the temple! The pain nearly blacks the giant out and loosens his grip enough for Beezel to escape! The crowd begins to cheer anew for the high flier!

"What a brilliant escape! Beezel showing that it really IS mind over matter, eh Riley?" asks Stevens.

"He's just delaying the inevitable Mark," says Riley, "Delaying the inevitable."

Beezel rolls to the outside and drops to his knees to suck air into his lungs as his opponent keeps himself off the mat with his good arm and tries to the shake the cobwebs out of his head. El Scorcho peeks up to check how the giant was and becomes encouraged by his slow recovery from the kick. Beezel flips the ring apron up and frantically searches underneath for something to protect himself with. He comes back out with a cricket bat and waves it in front of him, deciding how well it would help him in his impromptu plan. Contemplation comes to and end as Beezel is forced to stick with what he chose as Janus is on his feet and coming closer to him!

"This may just be the turning point of the match right here, folks," explains Stevens, "Will Beezel's weapon be good enough offense to keep the big man down or will Janus' strength and endurance be too much?"

"I wouldn't go against size and strength Mark," rebuts Riley, "That's my motto for both loving and fighting, if you catch my drift."

"I catch your drift Bobby and it reeks," jokes Stevens.

Janus stalks his opponent, guageing how Beezel will come at him with the cricket bat. Deciding to go straight at his opponent, Janus steps under the top rope and leans toward the outside. Thinking fast, Beezel lifts the cricket bat high... and throws it at the giant! Janus catches the bat in his hand and looks down at his opponent with a sadistic smile on his face. Panicing, Beezel runs a few steps around the corner to the other side of the steel steps but then turns around to look at the giant. Janus leans down in an effort to balance and get his other leg through the ropes without falling. Taking his opponent's care into account, Beezel angles himself and steps back then charges forward. Leaping onto the second step in stride, Beezel leaps forward and twists himself in midair and torques his hip, shooting his foot RIGHT INTO THE BACK OF JANUS' HEAD!

"WHAT A MOVE!" yells Stevens, "Beezel uses the second step like his opponent's knee and executes a Shining Black on the giant as he tried to get through the ropes! I don't know if using a weapon to occupy Janus' good hand was intentional or not but the man knows how to think on his feet!"

"Luck," stammers Riley, with no other way to keep his personal favorite sounding strong.

Beezel waves his arms frantically in mid air and manages to land without too much damage. The giant takes the blow hard and loses control of his legs for a split second, causing him to drop onto the second rope and roll to the outside awkwardly, however the giant still lands on his feet while leaning against the ring apron. Beezel kips up to his feet and checks his opponent who is staggering towards him. He looks behind himself and sees the table he set up earlier. Feeling momentum in his favor, El Scorcho turns himself sideways and takes careful aim. Side stepping, the high flier attacks with a superkick, which ends up missing as the giant sidesteps him! Janus shoots his good arm out and grabs the shorter man by the throat. The giant takes a second to shake his head again to clear his mind. Upon opening his eyes, Janus sees the table off to the side and gets a sadistic idea.

"Uh oh, the giant saw the table and that does not bode well for the challenger tonight!" explains Stevens, "With all the high impact damage he's taken tonight, a chokeslam through the table could break him in half!"

"BREAK HIM JANUS! Show him that Magnificent Seven isn't to be screwed around with!" yells Riley.

Janus grunts loudly and uses all his strength to lift the smaller man high into the air. Beezel struggles to try and open Janus' hand with his own but to no avail as the giant's vice like grip refuses to open! Beezel kicks the air but can't break away from the man who's face has taken a sadistic grin. The giant squeezes his opponent's throat harder and harder, keeping the air from reaching the high flier's lungs. Feeling the tmie to counter slipping from his grasp, Beezel makes a last ditch attack, sending a weak backfist downward and connecting with the side of the giant's face. The shock from the blow cause Janus to drop Beezel back to the ground but the blow had so little force that the Champion simply lifts his opponent back into the air! Some of the more sensitive crowd members scream out for the giant to let Beezel go but Janus only turns his head to scream obscenities at them. As he turns his head back however, Beezel throws a harder backfist and connects with the back of Janus' head. El Scorcho feels himself drop back to the earth and hears the crowd again in his ears. Beezel wastes no time in sending a second blow to his opponent's skull and then a third. The fourth hit with enough force to cause the cobwebs to fill Janus' mind and release the now weakened grip he had on Beezel's throat.

"An INCREDIBLY close call for Beezel but can he follow through and actually drop the giant for a pin?" asks Stevens.

"The sucker has a snowball's chance in hell but I'll give him the fact that he's lasted this long. Too bad he's about to become toothpaste or else he might have gotten a recruitment call from Our Wrestling God on High, Tom Flesher," froths Riley.

"I don't know if I can dignify that with a response to be honest," says Stevens.

Free from the Champions' grasp, Beezel sends a hard kick straight to the back of the closest leg to him. Janus' knee buckles from the attack and drops the giant down to one knee. Beezel follows with a hard kick to Janus' shoulder, eliciting a loud scream of pain from the champ. Feeling momentum on his side again, Beezel leaps and turns, sending a hard spinning back kick into the cranium of Janus, dropping him face first to the concrete! The crowd screams in delight along with the challenger at the sight of the giant falling flat!

"JANUS IS DOWN! The champion is down flat for the first time tonight! Can Beezel take advantage???" asks Stevens frantically.

El Scorcho wastes no time as he walks to Janus' right side and lifts his hurt arm up and behind Janus. Giving the arm some slack to bend, Beezel then jerks hard on the arm, causing the giant to scream in pain. Janus tries to pull back with the hurt arm but with no luck as the pain is too much. El Scorcho jerks on the giant's arm again, this time keeping constant pressure on the shoulder by pulling back. Janus does the only thing he can to alliviate the pain by pushing up with his good arm and rising to his knees. Beezel locks his hands tight around Janus' wrist and runs forward towards the wooden table and pulls hard, this time from Janus' front. The giant gives into the pressure and steps up, rising to his full height.

"Is the man insane?" asks Riley, "He just dropped the man to his feet, now he wants him back up where he's strongest?"

"There has to be some reason why, Bobby," rebuts Stevens.

"There is, he's flat out insane," says Riley.

Beezel gives another hard tug, forcing Janus to step forward and inch both men closer to the looming table. Janus however is sick of being herded and shoots his good arm out to club Beezel in the head. El Scorcho sees the blow coming however, and releases one hand from Janus' hurt arm to catch the other. Beezel leaps up and around Janus, bringing his good arm up around his own neck. Beezel leaps onto Janus' back and uses all his strength to apply a half nelson on the champion's injured arm while still holding onto the good arm. Janus stands straight up, almost bemused by the strange hold being applied by his opponent, until Beezel rears back and lands a HARD headbutt to the back of Janus' head! The giant loses all balance as Beezel slides himself to Janus' side and snakes one leg barely around his opponent's. El Scorcho then musters all his remaining strength to scrunch his body and land the Russian Leg Sweep and send Janus...

"FACE FIRST THROUGH THE TABLE! Beezel just hit a half nelson Russian leg... wait a minute, I know that move!" exclaims Stevens.

"Who CARES? Get up Janus!

Beezel gets up to his knees and shakes his head from the impact of the attack. He then uses all his strength to roll Janus onto his stomach, trapping his good arm underneath him. Beezel drapes an arm for the cover as Nick Soapdish drops for the count...

ONE!

"That was," says Stevens,

TWO!

"..the JOKER'S WILD!..."

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

DING

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

Rivers Cuomo's voice graces the arena once more as the referee raises Beezel's tired arm in victory amidst the wooden rubble around them.

"Your winner, at twelve minutes and twenty four seconds... and NEW! S! W! F! HARDCORE GAMERS CHAMPION.... BEEEEEEEZEEEEEEEEEEL!!!!" exclaims Funyon to the delight of the crowd.

"AND IT'S OVER! Beezel hit the Hardcore Gamer's Champion with a Joker's Wild through a table!" yells Stevens, "It's been so long since I've seen one, and it's the strangest one I've seen but there's no denying it!"

"Are you saying that Beezel is who I think you're saying... I'm thinking... it is?" asks Riley.

"No, I don't think that's who it is, but whoever it is knows this league well," explains Stevens, "And he may just be a lot more skilled than we all realize!"

"I don't like this guy Mark," says Riley, "I don't like him one bit!"

"Of course you don't but who cares! We have a new champion and we have even more spectacular matches to come. Neilsen - Jay Dawg! Justice and Rule versus Deja Vu! And even Flesher versus Frost! Stay Tuned because it gets even better, on SWF STORM!" screams Stevens.

Just as the screen starts to fade, we see the sight of Beezel holding the HCG belt while conducting the crowd like a chorus. And then, a commercial for Frost Brand Whiskey.

April 19, 2003

The camera fades in from break to a close-up of the smiling mug of Ben Hardy.

“Ben Hardy here,” he states for those who might not know the announcer by sight even after all this time “we’re back live on Storm here in Portland, Oregon and with me is the man going up against World Champion Tom Flesher tonight in his first title defense, Frost.”

The camera pulls back to reveal the Icelandic Iceman next to Hardy and the fans out in the arena pop for the fan favorite.

“In a little while, you will be receiving your first ever SWF World Title shot against a man you know very well in Tom Flesher, your former tag team partner and stable leader.”

Hardy holds the microphone up to Frost’s mouth and he mulls a thought over in his head with his hands on his hips. “See, that’s a prime element right there, Ben. I know Flesher very well. I know what makes him tick and what he’s going to do out in that ring before he does. But he doesn’t know me at all. Oh, he might thinks he does, but he doesn’t. He assumes that he knows what makes the world go round, but presuming that proves that you don’t. He only cares for number one. I know that now and I want the rest of the Magnificent 7, Judge, Ejiro, Janus, to realize it as well before it’s too late. I want to leave Flesher with nobody but himself.”

Hardy nods his heads and brings the mic back down to his level. “I can understand your main concern in this match being Tom Flesher, but what are your thoughts on winning the World Title? What would that mean to you?”

Frost shakes his head thinking it over. “The SWF World Title is the highest you can go in this sport.” Frost holds his hand up above his head, palm down to signify that. “It’s the Super Bowl, World Series and Stanely Cup all rolled into one for any professional wrestler. However, I’m not going to stand up here and lie and say I want to win that belt for myself. I don’t. I don’t want to win for the boys in the locker room who would puke on Flesher as soon as look at him, I don’t want to win it for the millions watching across the world or even for the great fans here in Portland.” Frost points toward the arena and the audience cheers at their mention. “I want to win the SWF World Title for one man.” Frost holds up a single finger. “I want to win it tonight, for Tom Flesher.”

“Tom Flesher?” Ben questions.

Frost smiles at the man and continues. “I said that Flesher cares for nobody but himself and he answers to no one but himself…except for one thing. Tom Flesher is a slave to that World Title belt, it’s his master, it’s his vice. Flesher is addicted to the World Title and I want to help him overcome that addiction by making him go cold turkey.” Frost points at the camera and fans pop anew.

Ben Hardy chuckles at the notion. “Rumor has it that you have a new move to accomplish just that. The TFDB. I’ve heard it’s for Flesher and Flesher alone. Care to elaborate on what this incredible maneuver might be?”

The crowd buzzes, wanting to know. Frost turns uncharacteristically playful and shoots a coy glance at the camera. “Trust me, you’ll know it when you see it.”

“Any words on what it might mean if you hit it tonight?”

Frost smiles the slightest of grins and lowers his head to stroke his chin. He gives the camera a sideways glance and states, “For Tom Flesher, it will mean The End.” Frost laughs under his breath and walks off camera.

“The Velvet Hammer, Frost” Hardy caps off “on a quest not for a World Title, but to destroy one man.”

April 19, 2003

“This next match is scheduled for one fall and is a Tornado Tag Team Match for the SWF World Tag Team Championship!” roars Funyon into his microphone as we return to another star-studded edition of SWF Storm.

“I have been looking forward to this confrontation for a few weeks now as the young upstarts known as Déjà Vu are only moments away from their title shot against the dominant tag team of Justice and Rule,” Mark Stevens calls over the din of crowd noise.

“Really? I’ve been dreading this thing,” replies Riley, “Do you have any idea how we are going to be able to keep track of which one is Kris and which is Kross as they get tossed around the ring?”

“Well Kross is the one that had sex with the fat chick right? Which ever one has death in his eyes has to be him.”

“Duly noted.”

“Introducing first, the champions!”

POPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPP!

As the word “Justice” floats across the screen, the crowd immediately starts to rain down with a loud sustained jeer that only intensifies as “Rule” makes its appearance. With “Sleep Now in the Fire” roaring through the sound system, Judge Hearford and Ejiro Fasaki make their entrance at the top of the ramp to the unanimous displeasure of the crowd. Regardless, the tag team champions are dressed in their Justice and Rule Hooded Sweatshirts (Available Now!) and don’t really give a damn. Sliding under the bottom ropes, Ejiro and The Judge pull off their title belts and lift them to the people in a display their lack of respect to the paying audience.

“They weigh in a at a total combined weight of 430 pounds and represent the Magnificent Seven, the most dominant stable in wrestling today. They are the reigning SWF Tag Team Champions... Judge William Hearford and Ejiro Fasaki are JUSTICCCCCCE and RUUUUUUUUULE!”

Pulling off their sweatshirts and passing them to the ringside attendant, Justice and Rule pace together back and forth in preparation for the contest to come. And it’s only a moment to wait before the sound of Rage Against the Machine changes to something a little different. With “Awnaw” popping into the speakers, the crowd erupts as Kris and Kross pop through the curtain. Slapping hands with the crowd and spending some special time with the ladies, Deja Vu slowly makes their way to the ring as Funyon announces them officially to the match.

“They are the challengers. They weigh in tonight at a total combined weight of 418 pounds and hail from the desert with all the gambling and hookers, Las Vegas. Kris, Kross ... DEJAAAAAAAA VUUUUUUUUUUU!”

Circling the ring on the opposite side of each other, Kris and Kross make sure that every fan has a smile on their faces as Justice and Rule prowl the ring like hungry lions. Finally getting their fill of fan interaction, Kris and Kross meet on the outside of the ring for a little prematch conversation.

“Dude! We are SO going to win some gold!” says ... let’s say Kris.

“You know it brother! Juice and Drool are going down!” answers Kross.

“Let’s go get ‘em!” responds Kross a moment before he and Kris slide into the ring.

“Like hell,” mutters The Judge as he and Ejiro immediately catch Deja Vu entering the ring with a savage series of boots to the twin’s heads.

Pulling Déjà Vu apart immediately, The Judge and Ejiro pound away with opposite corners with a number of their patented strikes.

“KRACK!” Goes the sound of The Judge’s open hand slapping against the chest of Kris.

“WHAM!” Sounds Fasaki’s elbow as it mashes against the Kross’ face.

“KRACK!”

“WHAM!”

“KRACK!”

“WHAM!”

“It’s like a savage game of Pong in there!” remarks Stevens as Justice and Rule trades back and forth battering the hell out of their inexperienced competition.

Turning and nodding to each other, Ejiro Fasaki and Judge Hearford press the brothers into their corners and whip the twins together as hard as they can! But as they are moments away from colliding, Kris and Kross link arms together and do a little dosey-do to avoid the collision! Immediately leaping into the air as Justice and Rule rush ahead, both members of Déjà Vu knock Fasaki and Hearford to the mat with stereo dropkicks!

“And you thought square dancing was a waste of time,” remarks Kross as he and Kris get up next to each other.

“Brah, it didn’t get us any tang, it was a waste of time,” replies Kris as Déjà Vu go back to work on the tag team champions.

Lining up The Judge as he gets up to his feet, Deja Vu rush forward together and drive the old man through the middle ropes with a double shoulder block to the largest man of the four. With that obstacle temporarily removed from the match, Deja Vu double up on Ejiro by sending him into the turnbuckles with the double Irish whip.

“Okay, Brah, let’s do that move we saw!”

“The Hardy thing? Dude, I’m not being Jeff! That guy is a flamer!”

“Dude! This is not the time.”

“Damn it.”

Sliding into position on all fours, Kross sets Kris up for the boosted leg lariat. Running forward, Kris hops onto Kross’ back for a just second before launching himself at his opponent. Sadly for Déjà Vu however, Fasaki is no longer there. Not being deaf, Fasaki heard the entire planning session and responded accordingly as Kris came flying forward. Slipping underneath the high kick, Fasaki seamlessly smashes into the exposed head of Kross with the sliding dropkick to the face!

“Major miscalculation there by the youngsters!” remarks Mark as Kris goes tumbling over the top turnbuckle and all the way to the arena floor and quite dangerously close to the recovering Judge Hearford.

“I must have done something right today,” remarks The Judge as a wounded twin basically lands in his lap.

Snatching the wounded Kris in his arms as Ejiro pounds away on Kross inside the ring, The Judge grips Kris tightly around the waist in a bear hug.

“Dude, I don’t like you in that wayyyyyyyyyy...” shouts Kris as The Judge jerks him high into the air and mashes him into the floor with a belly-to-belly suplex.

Standing up tall on the outside, The Judge smiles down at the convulsing body of his opponent as Ejiro continues to pound away on Kross with brawling tactics. Pushing Kross against the ropes, Ejiro slings him across the ring with a whip.

“Thanks Brah!” calls out Kross behind him as he uses the power of the whip to propel himself strait through the middle ropes and to the floor! Crashing into Hearford off the dive, Kross knocks the 250-pound man into the ringside railing. Knowing that Ejiro isn’t going to be far behind, Kross immediately turns back towards the ring and quickly sidesteps out of the way of a stunning baseball slide.

“Dude, you missed the bag! I guess you’re out!” yells Kross as he smashes a fist into the face of the tag team champion. “See, cause you did a baseball slide? It’s funny! Don’t you get it?” Coming forward with another right hand, Ejiro ducks and puts a knee into him, and Kross suddenly finds himself up in the air for just a moment before Ejiro lets him fall down across the top of the guardrail with a Hotshot!

“I got it,” replies Ejiro as Kross falls to the mat grabbing onto his throat. “I was just thinking up a witty comeback.”

With Kross down for the moment and the others rapidly recovering, Ejiro lends Judge a hand as they send Kris back inside the ring to remove any possibility of the referee calling for a count out. Gathering Kris up and sending him into the ropes, Justice and Rule lower their heads for their double flapjack only to have Kris stop short and smack into Ejiro’s face with a snap kick to the chest. Looking up at the sound, The Judge feels the odd tingles of fingers tickling his ivories and driving him back to a corner.

“TEE HEE, HEE, HEE!” comes the oddly high pitched laugh of Hearford as Kris pushes him back to a corner. The fans all look at each other at the odd sound as Kris stops his tickling long enough to say, “Brah... you laugh like a girl.”

WHAM! A rushing clothesline out of the corner knocks Kris strait to the canvas.

“Well, at least I don’t fight like one,” spits Hearford as Kris’ head lolls around his shoulders.

Pulling the youngster off the mat, The Judge hooks Kris up in position for a powerbomb. Jerking up on Kris as hard as he can though, Hearford still cannot manage to get the twin off the mat. Locking onto Justice’s legs with all he’s got, Kris refuses to get lifted into the air as Kross gets back into the match by leaping to the top rope. Launching himself at Hearford and his brother, Kross knocks them both over with a flying body press that creates a pile right on top of The Judge! Dropping to the mat goes Referee Nick Soapdish to make the count as Déjà Vu gang up on top of the champion for...

ONE!

TWO!

THREEEEENOOOOOOOAHHHHHH!

“Ejiro knocks the pile over to save the belts,” yells out Stevens as Fasaki pushes all three men over to their sides, “but there you can see just how a team can use the tornado tag rules to get a win so much easier than they could normally.”

“Well, there’s nothing like a gang pile of men to end a match lickity split. And I do mean lickity,” answers Riley with his trademark delivery.

Pulling off into pairs after the break up, Kross pulls The Judge into a corner as Ejiro does the same to Kris. Back and forth both pairs go trading punches and kicks until Justice and Rule finally gain the upper hand by raking the eyes of their respective opponents. Together, Ejiro and Judge both send a man into the ropes but both men miss a clothesline as Déjà Vu ducks underneath and run into the ropes once again. Flying back at a rapid pace, Kris and Kross launch their bodies at Justice and Rule and drive them to the mat with two stunning cross body blocks! Looking at both men for a second in confusion trying to figure out whom to count down, Soapdish drops down to count out both men!

ONE!

TWO!

THREEENOOOOOO!

Both member of the tag team champions kick away in time as Déjà Vu roll up to their feet for their next move.

“Brah, I’m going to clothesline this dude to HELL!” yells Kross as he eyes up The Judge.

“That’s kind of harsh,” replies Kris as he does the same to Ejiro Fasaki.

"Oh yeah. Heck cool?"

"No, don't sound the same... we’ll come up with something later."

“Sweet.”

Leaning back from deep downtown, Déjà Vu roar forward with their arms only to find that their opponents aren’t where they thought they would be. Snagging Déjà Vu underneath their arms, both members of Justice and Rule slam down forward with stunning variations on the STO! Ejiro and The Judge hook them up with covers as Soapdish makes another pair of covers.

ONE!

TWO!

THRENOOOOOOOOOOO!

Kris and Kross kick away in time to stave off the loss as Justice and Rule in their normal businesslike manner go about trying to establish a greater advantage. Pulling Kris and Kross both up, Judge and Ejiro smash them into the mat with a stunning pair of snap suplexes. Rolling to their feet immediately, Judge pulls Kross off the mat and heaves him to the outside as Ejiro snaps Kris to the mat with a mare. Signaling to The Judge to get ready, Fasaki runs forward and leaps over Kris’ head with a Hennig Neck Snapper. Falling strait back, Kris finds that The Judge is already there as he wraps the twin up in the stretch plum!

Mark Stevens yells out, “Held without Bail! Judge flew right in as soon as Ejiro went over the top and hooked Kris up! What a combination.”

Riley adds, “Getting hit with that neck snapper immediately caused Kris to come falling backward where The Judge was ready and waiting to lock it on! And now we are going to see just how much pain these kids can take.”

Wrenching around, the Judge yells over at Ejiro, “Stop the save!” and Rule looks back to see the second half of double trouble getting up onto the apron. Rushing to defend his partner, Ejiro puts a running knee into the youngster, knocking him to the floor. Laughing in a far more manly but sinister fashion, The Judge continues to wrench away as on the stretch plum as Kris struggles to keep from submitting to the pain.

“Kross needs to get in there and now!” shouts Stevens as Kross staggers to his feet on the floor.

Looking straight at Ejiro, Kross hops right up onto the apron again, sparking Ejiro to go for another running knee… but Kross jumps off, pulling down on the top rope!

“PSYCHE!” yells Kross as Ejiro is unable to stop his momentum and essentially tosses himself right out of the ring!

Sliding right into the ring, Kross rushes forward and finally frees his brother from the Held without Bail with a running dropkick to the face! Freed from the hold, Kris rolls to the relative safety of the ropes as Kross tries to get one over on The Judge. Grabbing the stunned grappler by the hair, Kross pulls him over to a corner and starts to ram his face right into the turnbuckle! The crowd counts along to...

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

The Judge falls down to his knees, but Kross just keeps on ramming him into the middle buckle!

FIVE!

SIX!

SEVEN!

Hearford slumps all the way down, but even that is not going to keep Kross’ turnbuckle assault as he smashes The Judge into the bottom pad!

EIGHT!

NINE!

TEN!

Finally letting go, Kross gets up with a sneer on his face as Hearford roles out of the ring to maybe get a chance to catch his breath. Seeing Ejiro crawling back inside the ring, Kross is immediately there to cut him off with a quick boot to the gut. Sending Rule into the ropes, Kross snatches him into the air before crushing him into the canvas with a staggering Spinebuster slam! Getting right back up to his feet, Kross is met there by his brother while the smashed Fasaki crawls away to rest in the corner A the hyperactive duo watches and plans their next move.

"You ready to get him Kris?"

"Brah, wait... I thought you were Kris"

"No, I'm not. I’m Kross, brah."

"Maybe there is no Kris at all and we’re both really Kross talking to himself."

"YOU ARE SOOOO WASTED!"

“Excellent....”

With Ejiro lying in the corner barely able, the twins get to mid ring and ready themselves to hit Ejiro with a stereo Double Take… but Kris’s face suddenly lights up in a smile and he holds his brother back, speaking a few words into his ear.

“Dude, we should SO do that!”

“I know, brah, we should!”

“Man, let’s like go and do it then!”

The two brothers slap each other five and go over to the corner, and excitedly grab Ejiro from behind in position for a double back suplex. But instead of falling back with the suplex, Deja Vu jams him down on the top turnbuckle facing the crowd. Immediately releasing his opponent. Kross climbs up the ropes past Fasaki’s body while his clone counterpart hops to the second rope and wraps his arms around the waist of Ejiro. Kris tries to move into a better position, but he bumps a little into Kross, who nearly losses his precarious balance on the ropes and yells at his brother.

“Dude, quit shovin’! You got the easy part, man, stickin’ me up here like a damn circus guy.”

“Hey, you were the one who snuck up there before I could!... Hey, brah, ain’t I supposed to hook my legs or something?”

“I dunno. I only saw this thing done once, brah.”

“Well- Brah, stop crowdin’ me!”

“It’s hard to balance, brah!”

“You can’t be like right on top of me! I ain’t your boyfriend!”

“Oh man, that was low!” he says, giving Kris a shove on the arm.

“Hey!” Kris says, and absentmindedly pushes back.

“WhoawhoawhoaWHOAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

Kris gives as small “Uh-oh” as his brother flails about, waving both arms in the air trying to keep balance, but eventually succumbing to Mistress Gravity’s fatal pull. He hits the floor right on his tailbone, and yells out in pain:

“AHHH! I THINK I BROKE MY ASS, BRAH!”

“Hey, brah, my bad!”

“And I’m gonna break something on you, prick!” says one ticked off and very close voice.

“Huh?”

WHAM!

Kris takes a surprise elbow right to the nose from a recovered Ejiro, and falls to the mat holding his nose!

“‘I BROKE MY ASS’….Bwuahahahaha… I think they just found a quote for themselves…”

Getting back up to his feet, Kris is almost immediately hit with an elbow to the face. He tries to throw a punch, but another furious elbow smash nails him in the head, followed by another. Dazed and desperately trying to change the momentum, Kris thinks back to all those training videos…

And goes for an eye poke, right out of all the “Three Stooges” movies! But Ejiro quickly bring his hand up and denies the two pronged attack of justice!

“Crap, we watch the same videos!” says Kris as Ejiro gives him a cocky smile for his excellent defenses. But the youngster isn’t beat yet, and busts through Fasaki’s defenses with an eye poke with both index fingers! The ref yells at him to watch it, but it doesn’t matter much as he comes back at flurry of punches that gets the crowd roaring!

“And Kris comes back with a little of Ejiro’s own medicine!” bellows Grand Slam, “Their style is so unorthodox that it’s really hard to have any defense against it. Amazing, eh?”

“Tell that to Kross, Mark,” says Riley, pointing out Kross, who sits on the ground holding his tailbone still while a partially recovered Hearford begins to advance on him, “I’m sure he wishes his daddy’s lawyers were at this questioning session.”

“Hey, old guy, um, let’s talk this over,” says Kross, scooting away from one angry prosecutor, “I’m like kinda injured right now, so-”

But the Judge suspends opening arguments with a running boot to Kross’ face, putting the kid back down.

“DUDE, MAN, YOU SUCK!” Kross says, holding his face as Hearford pulls him up and gives him a punch to the head.

“Just shut up and fight, boy!” demands Hearford, and Kross gives him a pissed off look.

“Screw you!” he yells, rubbing his backside as he gets up off the ground, “Yo’ momma so poor I saw her droppin’ quarters in the sewer to pay her water bill!”

With that remark Hearford takes an angry, wild swing at the offender but misses, and Kross deals out a quick jab to ‘Judge Mental’s’ stomach, and the old man is stopped for a second while Kross rattles off another diss.

“Hey, yo’ momma so stupid she got tangled in a cordless phone!”

The Judge grits his teeth in rage as a few laughs come out from the crowd members who hear the joke, and Hearford gives off a flurry of wild shots that Kross is able to back away. The Judge gives a frustrated growl as Grand Slam picks up on the problem.

“Kross is actually getting under the Judge’s skin and throwing him off his game! If he keeps it up, he might be able to goad the Judge into making a big mistake. Heh, who thought being irritating could be useful in wrestling?”

“BS,” calls Riley, slamming his hand down on the announcer’s table, “If that’s true, I would have held the World Title by now.”

“…”

“… Very good point there, Bobbie.”

“SHUT UP!”

While Kross rattles off more Dirty Dozens jokes, his brother fares just as well in the ring. After finishing up with his punches, he takes the dazed Fasaki by the wrist and flings him at the ropes. He ducks down for a back body drop, but Ejiro doesn’t let him get it off, instead hitting him in the top of the cranium with a running knee! Kris hits the ground holding his head and Fasaki instantly gets behind him, pulling him up and wrapping his arm around his neck. He holds up his free hand in a fist, his bent middle finger protruding out from the closed hand like a spear head.

“He wouldn’t dare…” says Grand Slam with horror, and Ejiro does the unthinkable…

… And begins furiously rubbing his jutting digit into Kris’s head as the crowd boos on!

“ATOMIC NOOGIE!” cries Riley with sadistic glee as ½ of Déjà Vu yells out as if his head is on fire!

“… It’s like we are watching a bunch of middle schoolers fight.”

“Do you really think Déjà Vu got to middle school?”

“Bobbie, I don’t-…”

“See? Me neither. We finally agree on something.”

While Kris endures the ULTIMATE FIERY PAIN~! of the ULTRA STIFF ATOMIC NOOGIE OF DOOM~!, Kross fares slightly better on the outside, getting in some nice shots as he continues to annoy the old veteran to no end with his jokes. Kross backs up towards the apron with a smile as a slightly battered Judge slowly follows behind.

“What, getting tired old dude? I’m just getting started!” he taunts with a boyish grin, and the Judge shoots back a scowl as he throws out another joke.

“Yo’ momma so fat that she plays pool with the plants!”

“What?” remarks a confused Riley as an equally confused Kross tries to correct himself.

“Plants? Wait, I know this one-“

WHAM!

Whether he remembers it or not he’s slammed back to the pavement with a massive lariat With a disrespectful scoff, Hearford picks him back up and tosses him into the ring, where Ejiro continues to torture Kris with the ATOMIC NOOGIE~!, with Nick Soapdish asking him if he wants to give up. The twenty-two year old in agony refuses and tries to break the grip of Fasaki, but fails as Ejiro continues to bully the youngin’. But Kris’ brotherly experiences pay off as he remembers a tried and true way to disable the NOOGIE~!…

“NIPPLE TWISTER~!” yells Grand Slam, and indeed, Kris has reached across his body and twists Ejiro’s nipple through his sweatshirt, and Fasaki breaks his grip on twin’s head.

“Pfft. At least the noogie is cool enough to be in middle school. The nipple twist is SOOO fifth grade.”

Kris doesn’t hold the ‘deadly’ submission on Ejiro for long, using the time to get back up to his feet, and the two face off as Hearford slides in with a rising Kross, locking up with him. The skilled veteran is quickly able duck under him and get in a waist lock. He grins evilly as he begins to lift Kross off the ground while the rookie frantically tries to break the hold. CRUNCH! The old man hits the German Suplex with perfect precision, and pulls Kross up for another one, but the young man squirms, struggles, and basically blocks as well as he can. On the other side of the ring their respective partners continue to trade shots, punch for elbow. Ejiro brings his foot up and tries to kick the kid in the gut, but even someone as inexperienced as Kris could see it coming a mile away and the boy catches it with both hands. He holds the foot right there and gets ready to make his next move, but Ejiro got right what he wanted as he bring his foot up for an Enzugiri!

Meanwhile his brother fares much better in his efforts, and the crowd gives a cheer as he finally breaks free of ‘Judge Mental’ and the crowd goes absolutely wild as the kid turns right around on pure instinct and hits a picture perfect Back Brain Kick that would make Puro fans weep with pride! Hearford goes down holding the back of his skull and the amazed kid lifts himself off the ground.

“… I… I nailed that thing!” he says as it dawns on him, “Brah! BRAH!”

He turns around calling for Kross, not knowing of his brothers fate… and Ejiro Fasaki introduces him to one of the stiffest elbows this side of Danny Williams! Kris gets hammered as Fasaki gets his second wind, nailing him with a shower of elbows before spinning around and clobbering him with his trademark Screaming Elbow!

“AIIIIIIIIIIIIIE!” shrieks Riley with joy, and Grand Slam looks over at him.

“So that’s where the name comes from…”

Kris backs up against the ropes, his head spinning from that last spot, and Fasaki uses the chance to whip him right at the ropes. He gets ready to catch in the Cobra Crossface, waiting for that arm to get into his snake-like striking range… but instead Kris takes to the air, landing a Cross Body on the smaller man and pressing him into the mat! The crowd cheers as he helps his brother up, and both of them look at the rising Judge Mental, whispering to one another.

“Brah, we should SO do that!”

“I know!”

“Then let’s go!

With a running start, the two get right up into the Judge’s face and put their best foot forwards, which happens to be all four as they nail him with a double Dropkick that sends him reeling and falling through the ropes to the outside!

“And now Fasaki’s all alone with the two! That doesn’t spell anything good for Justice and Rule’s Tag Title reigns!” says Mark as the two kids pull up Ejiro and whip him at the ropes.

“It doesn’t spell anything, you dolt! Actions don’t spell stuff!” is all the frustrated Riley can blurt out in response.

The tired Ejiro comes back towards the twins, and in perfect unison, raise up their feet into the jaw of the Sarasota Cobra, hitting stereo Superkicks that sends Ejiro literally flying backwards! With the crowd going insane and Ejiro lying on the ground twitching after the brutal double team move, the two tired brothers look at each other.

“Ready to make a name for ourselves, brah?” says Kris with a smile.

Of course, Kross only returns it with a perplexed gaze. “Brah, we already have a name. It’s Dej-”

“Do you pay attention at all, brah?”, says Kris, smacking Kross in the head, “I mean it’s time to get our titles!”

“Oh, heck yeah, brah! Hey, can I try out that move I was practicin’?”

“Go for it, brah! This is our big moment! Gotta look cool while we’re doing it, right?”

“Definitely!”

With that, each of them runs up a turnbuckle, and flashes a few finger gestures at the cheering crowd!

“This is it! We are going to have new tag team champions!” roars Grand Slam while Riley wipes his hands across his face.

“No! NO! This is all horribly wrong! We’ve already had a Poke freak as a Hardcore Champion, TNT win the World Title, Frost become a good guy, and now a pair of rookies are getting the Tag Titles! Why must this place always be Bizarro World?!”

“Well, Tom Flesher IS the World Champion…” says Grand Slam with a sarcastic grin, and shrugs and looks back at him.

“Mark, that’s something that’s just impossible to screw up.”

The two turn around, lining up their jumps, but they fail to notice the Judge recovering after his spill to the outside. Kross leaps off into the air, flipping forwards in an incredible 450 splash! Kris bends at the knees for, ready to follow him… but he only finds himself going to the ground as the Judge gets up onto the apron and pulls him off! Kross lands right on Ejiro’s stomach and bounces off while the Judge climbs up to the top of the turnbuckle, and he unconsciously rolls back onto Fasaki for the pin, waiting for his brother’s jump. With Soapdish sliding in to make the count, and the Judge realizes there’s no way to break up the pin in time… except for one.

And desperate times call for desperate measures.

ONE!

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

TWO!

“AIR JUDGE! AIR FRICKEN JUDGE!” screams Riley as 242 pounds of Justice goes flying through the air, unbeknownst to the people below…

THREEEEEECRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAASH!!!!!!

… and Soapdish jumps back like an artillery shell landed in front of him as the Judge hits right on top of Kross and Ejiro, breaking up the cover and crushing the two smaller men! He shakily puts up two fingers as Judge rolls the boy off Ejiro's corpse and makes his own cover!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!!!

*DING DING DING*

“The winners… and STILL SWF TAG! TEAM! CHAAAAAAAAAAAAMPIONS!..... JUSTICE! AND! RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUULE!”

“My God! That was insane!” says Grand Slam as the Judge lifts himself off the ground and grabs Ejiro by the arm to help him up.

“That was AWESOME!” responds Riley, watching Ejiro somehow is able to gain a footing to stand up and have his hand raised with his partner by Soapdish.

“Well, Justice and Rule hold onto their Tag Team titles against one hell of an effort from Déjà Vu, and we haven’t even reached the Main Event yet! Stay tuned for JD vs. Neilsen and Tom Flesher vs. Frost for the World Title!” waves off Grand Slam as the two victorious men begin to stumble out of the ring, leaving Déjà Vu to think about their hard fought bout as we…

*FADE TO COMMERCIAL*

April 19, 2003

A view of the outside of the Rose Garden in Portland, Oregon appears onscreen before we are treated to the lovable mug of Mark Stevens shouting…

Stevens: “Close the shutters, lock the doors and stay off the phone, the SWF Storm is back!”

Riley: “Not only back but kicking ass! Danny Williams returned in stunning style against Ced Ordonez. The Hardcore and Tag Title matches have been decided. There is a new #1 Contender to the U.S. Championship and what we have coming up next is just insane!”

Stevens: “That’s right! Tonight, it’s JD’s Revenge!”

Riley: “The first time these men met up was in a pre-PPV match! Neilsen was so pissed about not being at the show he wound up hitting the Hardcore Maniac in the nuts 67 times!”

Stevens: “67 times?”

Riley: “Yes. 67 times!”

Stevens: “That’s a lot of times.”

Riley: “It sure is Marky…it sure is…”

Riley shakes his head.

Stevens: “But what a lot of people don’t know is that that wasn’t Neilsen and Jay Dawg’s only match! After Neilsen’s only absence in the entire history of the IGNWF…a period of slightly more than two months…his first match back was against the Dawged One. Not many remember that, but after Jay Dawg gave Neilsen one hell of a beating, the Jungler pulled out a victory once more before JD took him out with a vengeful chair shot. Whether the third time will be the charm for Jay Dawg or just another disappointment for the reigning ICTV Champion, we’ll have to see.”

Riley: “And see it we will because you can’t forget why this match was signed…why this is an Inferno match! On Monday, Neilsen took Suicide King’s woman…now King is looking to make him pay at the hands of the only man who probably hates Neilsen more than King himself does. Fans…get ready for JD’s Revenge!”

Funyon slowly walks up the steps and climbs into the ring.

Funyon: “Ladies and Gentlemen, by order of your favorite Commissioner, the following contest is JD’s Revenge!”

The fans explode as the bottom rope bursts on fire!

Funyon: “The rules are as follows…there are no rules! (The fans erupt again) The only way to win is to set your opponent on fire! There will be a referee at ringside (Kivell waves at the fans) but he’s only there to call for the bell. Now let’s get on with the show!”

The cheering as multiple fireworks explode around the arena, rafters and entrance ramp. The lights go out and…

"THIS

IS

MAH

HOUSE!!"

…blasts over the loud speakers! The fans start to boo as Rammstein's 'Du Haste' plays without the lyrics... The heavy beats thunder 360 degrees all over the arena... JD steps through the curtains with the ICTV Championship strapped around his waist and his head held down. He walks to the top of the ramp, slowly raising his head. He lowers his head again, although a smile without good intentions is now plastered on his face as he thinks about what he’s going to do in the match he’s been dying to have since From the Fire.

Funyon: “Introducing first, hailing from Vancouver, B.C., weighing in at 243 lbs., he is the reigning ICTV Champion, ladies and gentlemen, this…is…Jamie…“Jay Daaaawwwwg”…Draaaaaaazonnnn!!!”

The verbal disgust is immense as the Hardcore Maniac enters the ring, placing his hands on his thighs, and slowly cricks his neck. He tosses the title to Kivell outside the ring and then steps back towards the corner and wait for his hated opponent.

Funyon: “And his opponent…”

A heavy beat starts to bump as images of a man pulling on black fingerless gloves, black elbow pads and black kneepads. “…can you feel that?”

Funyon: “Hailing from Chicago, Illinois…”

The man’s scarred chest is shown with a black wifebeater being pulled over it. His arms can be seen pumping. His sandaled feet are shown hopping up and down. “Aw shit…”

Funyon: “Weighing in at 245 lbs…”

Images from behind of the man walking into an excited arena bearing a steel chair are shown.

Funyon: “Neilsen…of…the…Juuunngglllllle!!!”

“Ooooo…ah ah ah ah!” The fans explode as Neilsen comes bursting out from behind the curtains bearing a steel chair! He dashes down the ramp to…stop halfway. The fans murmur as Neilsen stares at Jay Dawg and then points back towards the entranceway with his chair. The fans burst once more as out comes Michelle wearing a black bra and an unbelievable short, ripped black skirt bearing with her a trash can full of weapons! Jay Dawg’s eyes go wide and he starts jumping around the ring waiting for the Hardcore King. Funyon turns and hurriedly exits in such a rush that he catches his foot on the second rope and hits the floor hard as he barely managed to avoid the flames. Neilsen starts walking up the ring steps, drops the chair, grabs the turnbuckle post, leaps over and…

Ding! Ding!

Stevens: “The match is on!”

…lands in the ring only to get smashed by a JD clothesline! Jay has him in the corner and is just beating the shit out of him with his bare hands! Jay Dawg shouts at him, “You fucker! I’ve been waiting two years for this!” Dawg starts blasting away at the Jungle King with blistering boots as Neilsen hasn’t been able to get in the game yet. The Jungler’s head goes near the flames and-Neilsen darts out between JD’s legs and back away into the center of the ring. The fans cheer as Neilsen watches Jay Dawg and JD gives the man a heated glare in return.

Riley: “Oh this is going to be good.”

Michelle is now right outside the ring and places the trash can full of weaponry on the steps. Neilsen and JD still haven’t taken their eyes off of each other. They start circling, the fans start stomping, Michelle starts shouting…JD turns to her, Neilsen charges and-JD turns around, ducks, Neilsen rebounds, leaps, locks his legs around Jay Dawg’s head and-JD leans forward, throws a leg back and blasts Neilsen right in the face! The Jungler goes down clutching his mug and sliding away from the man as JD shouts, “What? What bitch? What you goin’ ta’ fuckin’ do?” JD charges, Neilsen rolls forward, JD leaps over, Neilsen stands, they turn, Neilsen charges, swings, ducked, turn, arm over JD’s shoulder, JD throws him off, Neilsen rolls, JD charges, leapfrog, Neilsen’s hand goes into his pocket, they turn and-

Stevens: “Powder!”

-dodged! JD spun around, powder hit his back, and he now quickly spins around and blasts Neilsen down with the Thai Roundhouse Kick! The Jungler’s nose is busted open!

Stevens: “Neilsen better get used to this level of brutality. This isn’t the Jay Dawg he was used to.”

Riley: “You’re damned right about that!”

The Jungler wipes his nose, sees blood, scurries to his feet and shouts-nothing as Jay Dawg blasts the Hardcore King’s chest with a blistering chop! JD swings a right, Neilsen darts to his left-right into a hellish boot by JD! Neilsen doubles over, JD grabs him, whips his at the ropes and-

FOOM!

-the flames explode seconds before Neilsen hits-the Jungler falls to his back with…fear?…in his eyes, inches away from the furiously burning fire.

Stevens: “What the heck just made those flames explode?”

Riley: “Hell if I know.”

Neilsen scampers to his feet, the flames die down after the great expenditure of gas, the Jungle King turns and-barely ducks manages to duck a clothesline! JD hits the ropes, rebounds and-slams the mat as Neilsen delivers a drop toehold! The Jungler leaps on JD’s back and starts slamming his head into the mat! He pulls up on JD’s hair and then slams his own forehead into the back of JD’s skull! Neilsen blinks the dots out of his eyes as JD goes down out cold.

Stevens: “Neilsen just evened the playing field!”

Riley: “For a few seconds.”

But that’s all Neilsen needs as he shouts out to Michelle, “Canes!” The fans erupt as Neilsen’s chick hurls two Kendo sticks to the Hardcore King! Neilsen catches one in his left hand and the other in his right armpit. He then pulls out the latter and starts spinning the canes around in an untalented but quick and potentially deadly display. The fans’ roars rise with each spin of a stick. JD starts to stir and push himself up. Neilsen looks down upon him with a smirk on his bloodied face and lets JD rise. The Dawged One gets up, stares at Neilsen and-WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!-JD covers his body as blow after blow cracks his sides, legs, chest, shoulder and arm-JD reaches out and catches the offending stick in Neilsen’s left hand under his right arm. In a frantic flurry, Neilsen starts bringing the cane in his right hand down against JD’s head again and again to little effect, his leverage being totally thrown off. JD rips the stick free and both men square off with each man holding a stick in their right hands.

Stevens: “(Whistle) Ooooo, ooo ooo…”

Riley: “Wa wa waaaa…”

Stevens: “We’ve got an old-fashioned showdown!”

Riley: “Since when did an old-fashioned showdown feature Kendo sticks?”

Both men then spin around, drop the tips of their sticks into the fire, turn and-

Stevens: “Right before they featured flaming Kendo sticks!”

The fans explode as these two men start waving them about while circling one another. Neilsen spins his flaming stick in a circle while Jay Dawg just slashes his stick in straight swings in front of himself. They stop, stare, Neilsen spits at JD and-they charge! Neilsen swings a horizontal slash, JD ducks, brings his down, Neilsen sidesteps, swings, CRACK!, stick meets stick and embers fly! CRACK! They meet again! CRACK! Once more! Jay Dawg swings a horizontal strike at Neilsen’s head, Jungler ducks, JD swings low, Neilsen leaps, and-JD brings it up and-Neilsen brings his down cracking JD’s in half! The fans roar as Neilsen swings for the man’s head and-JD grabs it, rips it free and-CRACK!

Stevens: “Neilsen goes down to a flaming Kendo stick to the head!”

The Jungler scrambles to his feet in an attempt to dodge the flaming strikes JD tries to rain down upon him. The Jungler runs to Michelle, gets his chair tossed to him and-barely manages to use it in time to block another blow! JD starts raining them down once more as Neilsen is forced down to the ground, hiding behind steel to keep away from this vengeful man’s furious assault. JD rears back, swings down and-Neilsen catches the stick in his sandals, rolls backwards, drops the stick, tosses the chair, JD catches and-

Stevens: “Skin meets sandal meets steel meets skull!”

Riley: “A sandaled Superkick to the steel!”

The chair goes flying as JD goes down! Neilsen isn’t about to slow after this opportunity as he charges, scoops up the chair, skids to a stop, unfolds the chair, charges the far ropes, ignores the rising flames as he hits, stepson Jay Dawg’s gut, leaps onto the chair, leaps onto the second rope and-

FOOM!

-crashes to his back as he barely manages to miss being turned into charcoal by rising flames! The Jungler’s head cracks the back of the seat to receive a gasp of sympathy pain from this Pack filled crowd.

Stevens: “What the hell!?! This is the second time the flames have potentially cost Neilsen a chance at gaining an advantage while Jay Dawg hit the ropes with impunity.”

Riley: “Oh get over yourself. Like this could possibly be rigged…”

Stevens looks at Riley.

Riley: “Oh…”

A now busted open JD rises as Neilsen is still down clutching his head. Jay staggers over as Neilsen gets to all fours. Neilsen makes it to one knee, starts to rise and-Jay Dawg charges and nails Neilsen with a chop block that sends the Hardcore King flipping through the air like a fat Samoan! Neilsen smashes to the ground holding his left knee. JD has his eyes closed and a sick smile on his face as he stalks the wounded animal. Neilsen sees him coming but he’s in such pain he can only roll to his belly. JD reaches down, grabs Neilsen’s ankle, hauls the leg high and slams the knee into the mat! He does it again! He does it again with such unbelievable force that Neilsen was almost vertical before his knee drives into the mat! Jay Dawg spins his arm over his head to the disgust of the crowd, hauls Neilsen’s leg up again and-Neilsen hops on one foot, lets a backwards enziguri fly, JD ducks, Neilsen lands on his foot and-

Stevens: “Thumb to the eye!”

Riley: “The fans are eating it up! What the fuck!?!”

Stevens: “Well, it is legal.”

-JD stumbles backwards as Neilsen hops on his good leg back towards the-

FOOM!

-Neilsen swears! Shocking!

Stevens: “Neilsen can’t even find a place to rest his leg in this brutal-Shit!”

Neilsen’s left leg gets chopped again, again he flies and the flames conspicuously lower as Jay Dawg nears them. The fans boo as they see this, but JD stalks his foe once more unperturbed. Neilsen is shown sliding away from his slightly taller foe, holding out a hand almost begging him off! JD smiles grimly at his downed foe, reaches for him and-small package-means nothing as a pissed JD now rises-right into two flying sandaled feet! Both men’s backs hit the mat at the same time as Neilsen screams out in pain and holds his knee! A dazed Dawg struggles to rise as Neilsen hobbles to his feet with a grimace upon his face. JD makes it up, charges and-Neilsen grabs his hair and hurls JD over the top rope and to the floor! JD smacks hard, Neilsen charges and-FOOM!-a wall of flame blocks Neilsen’s path! The Jungler looks around frantically, tries to exit on the side by the ramp and-FOOM! The Jungler back up, turns towards the announcers and-FOOM! Neilsen spins around. FOOM! FOOM! FOOM! FOOM! All four sides of the ring are bursting into flames as-

Stevens: “Neilsen is trapped!”

Riley: “Who the hell is controlling these flames!?!”

JD shakes off the cobwebs and starts to ri-falls and finally manages to rise. He stares at the Jungle King and smiles as he sees his animalistic nemesis caged. He looks around, reaches under the ring and-the crowd explodes as he pulls out a barbed wire bat! JD wipes the blood from his forehead…and then drags the wire bat across it to draw sickened gasps from the crowd along with even more blood! He then looks around and smiles. He walks around the ring to his left, walks by the ramp and sees…Michelle.

Stevens: “Oh hell no! She’s not a wrestler!”

Riley: “Time for Neilsen to feel how Outcast felt.”

JD starts stalking the woman as Neilsen’s eyes dart about. JD is so damn close to her that he can smell her fea-Neilsen charges with unexplained adrenaline, leaps over the top rope, over a wall of flame and the crowd erupts as he crashes down onto Jay Dawg! Neilsen screams as he lands on his feet, which quickly turns to one foot as his left knee buckles. Neilsen wobbles as he rises and starts stomping away at JD’s busted forehead. Neilsen hits it again and again and-he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pair of scissors!

Stevens: “Holy Shit!”

Riley: “Neilsen hasn’t used scissors since he stabbed Grimedogg in the calf in their legendary Lion’s Den match at the second IGNWF PPV!”

Stevens: “I’m sure he’s used scissors since then.”

Riley: “Not to hurt someone!”

Stevens: “…I repeat. I am SURE Neilsen has used scissors since then.”

Neilsen brings the point down on JD’s-the desperate Dawg grabs Neilsen’s hand and holds him there. Neilsen brings his other hand to help as does JD. JD starts pushing Neilsen back, gets to his feet and-hurls the scissors out into the crowd! The two men ignore this lawsuit waiting to happen and start trading blows. JD quickly wins, swings once more and-Neilsen dodges, swings and-JD spins backwards 180 and cracks Neilsen with a modified Thai Roundhouse kick! The Jungler goes down as JD snaps his attention to Michelle once more. The woman backs away, falls over the ring steps, JD smirks and-Neilsen is up, hobbles as he charges, leaps and-JD turns, locks Neilsen up and plants him with a T-Bone Suplex on the steel steps! After the resounding bang and seeing Neilsen’s body dent the steel, the fans chant-

Riley: “Holy Shit!”

Jay Dawg slowly rises as Neilsen writhes in agony. He looks into the ring, picks up his barbed bat, moves towards the ring and-the flames die as JD is apparently allowed to reenter the ring.

Stevens: “Now…Christ! Neilsen can’t win! These odds are just too great!”

Riley: “Maybe he deserves it after what he did to the King.”

Michelle helps her battered boy up to his feet…or…at least one foot. The Jungler leans heavily on his new woman as he stares at his waiting foe. Neilsen then weakly pushes his woman away, steps towards the ring and-FOOM! FOOM! FOOM! FOOM!

Stevens: “The flames aren’t letting Neilsen in!”

Riley: “Then how the hell will this match continue!?!”

Neilsen tries to enter again and-FOOM! “F**k it,” exclaims the Hardcore King. He reaches under the ring and pulls out-a fire extinguisher! The fans roar as Neilsen aims the hose and-sprays the apron! The fire goes out, Neilsen slides in with extinguisher in hand and-CRACK! “Oooooh,” moans the crowd as Neilsen’s back eats barbed bat! The wire sticks to Neilsen’s shirt as JD pulls it off. He hauls back and Neilsen eats it again! Neilsen’s head rears back and his face is etched with agony! Jay Dawg raises the bat again and again brings it crashing down onto the Jungler! Neilsen screams! Jay Dawg measures up Neilsen’s head…rears back…and…CRACK! JD gets a lead pipe to the head! The startled Hardcore Maniac turns and-CRASH! He takes a trash can lid to his chest! The fans are cheering wildly as Michelle is hurling weapons at the Dawged One! JD starts slowly walking towards her, being buffeted back by various utensils. He raises the bat to deflect a few blows but a golf ball briefly brushing his nuts gives him pause. Jay Dawg then starts to move once more when-Neilsen rises, limps forward, Jay Dawg turns so his back’s to the turnbuckles, leaps off his right foot, Jay Dawg raises the bat horizontally in front of his face…

Stevens: “What the hell is this?”

Neilsen grabs the bat, pushes it towards JD, slaps on a sleeper and spins around the man 360 degrees in a modified barbed Wet Dream! The wire rips right through the lower left part of JD’s jaw and the fans gag as they can see bone! JD doesn’t seem phased as Neilsen lands, JD latches him around the waist and-hurls Neilsen back, sending him twisting and spinning over the turnbuckle post and smashing his jaw on the top of the barricade! The fans chant, “Holy Shit!,” as Jay Dawg reaches up and sticks a finger into one of his newly formed skin flaps! Jay’s eyes go red as he realizes what just occurred! The Hardcore Maniac charges, Neilsen pulls himself up using the barricade, JD leaps over the top rope and-crashes into the barricade as Michelle pulls Neilsen away! She helps the Hardcore King roll back into the ring through the previously put out flames just before-

FOOM!

-they roar back to life!

Stevens: “Damn! Neilsen got lucky there.”

Riley: “Luck had nothing to do with it! It’s because of that bitch at ringside that Neilsen’s even still in this! Jay Dawg had him dead to rights.”

JD starts to rise back up as Neilsen is out cold on his back, panting heavily. JD makes his way towards the ring and Neilsen starts to rise. The flames die down, JD enters the ring and Neilsen takes his shirt off to the squealing delight of the female fans dying to see his scarred body. Fresh wounds on his back have rivets of blood running down them as JD makes it to his feet. JD growls, his torn skin flapping grotesquely as Neilsen-throws his shirt! JD gets his face covered, Neilsen rips his belt off to the further delight of the female fans, wraps it around his hand and-JD throws the shirt down only to get blasted in the face with a the belt buckle! JD goes down, Neilsen charges the far ropes, leads with his left foot and-“Aaah!”-screams the Hardcore King! The Jungler goes down clutching his left knee as JD shakes his head. Neilsen yells for Michelle to do something and she…pulls out a-

Stevens: “Table!”

Riley: “But how the hell do they get it in there without setting it on-”

Michelle slides the table into the ring towards Neilsen and it catches fire!

Riley: “Oh…I guess they can’t.”

Neilsen crawls towards it as JD struggles to stand up, blood gushing from every inch of his face. Neilsen reaches forward-and then quickly draws his hand back.

Stevens: “What’s he-?”

Neilsen takes off his gloves and elbow pads.

Stevens: “Oh…shit. The less gear Neilsen wears the harder it’ll be to set him on fire!”

Riley: “Cheating bastard!”

Stevens: “I don’t think that’s really-”

Riley: “It doesn’t matter what you really!”

Stevens: “…you totally fucked that up.”

Riley: “…shut up.”

The Jungler hops as he stands, manages to completely rise, bends over, grabs the table, sets up one set of legs, heads towards the other and-gets planted by a risen Jamie Drazon’s German Suplex! Jay holds on for another one and drills Neilsen’s shoulders into the mat! JD rises, grabs Neilsen and starts dragging him towards the flames…

FOOM! FOOM! FOOM!

Stevens: “This match is almost over!”

Riley: “Country fried Jungle King!”

Jay Dawg turns Neilsen over and-Neilsen grabs JD’s belt, desperately pulls him down-

Stevens: “Jay Dawg’s face is headed straight for the fi-!”

-and the flames go out as Jay Dawg’s bloodied head hits the ring of fire apparatus. Neilsen’s eyes go wide, even through the blood that’s starting to blind him.

Stevens: “What The Fuck!?!”

Riley: “I knew it! This match is fixed!”

Neilsen swears as he musters up the strength to push himself back up. He stands and shouts at Michelle, “Throw ‘em in!” The fans erupt as the entire trash can full of weapons hits the ring! Shit spills out into the ring as the fans cheer wildly. Neilsen limps over to the items and picks up a metal chain. He slowly wraps it around his right hand. JD slowly pushes himself up and gets to his feet. FOOM! The flames come back on. Neilsen swings, JD ducks, Neilsen spins and-JD wraps his arms around Neilsen’s head and over the man’s left arm. JD powers back and slams Neilsen’s gut to the mat with a Dragon Suplex! Neilsen is in a heap as JD rises and sweeps up the chain! Neilsen gets to a knee and-Jay Dawg wraps the chain around the Jungler’s throat! Neilsen struggles and squirms as JD backs them into the corner left of the ramp. JD start climbing the turnbuckles and Neilsen’s feet leave the mat! JD rolls his eyes into the back of his head as Neilsen go wide!

Stevens: “Jay Dawg’s giving Neilsen a Hangman’s Choke with a metal chain!”

JD smiles almost demonically as Neilsen’s having the life choked out of him! Neilsen kicks and kicks and kicks and…he slowly stops moving. Once Neilsen’s out, JD…keeps choking him. Kivell pleads with Dawg to let the man go but Jamie doesn’t even seem to register it. Finally, JD lets go and Neilsen hits the mat like a box of rocks. JD looks down at Neilsen, smiles and then looks at the flaming table…and smiles even more.

Riley: “Cruel intentions are in store for the Hardcore King.”

JD hops down, grabs Neilsen’s left leg, flips the man over and-locks in a spinning toehold! Neilsen wakes up and starts screaming! JD spins, Neilsen screams, JD spins, Neilsen screams, JD spins and-Neilsen taps out! Neilsen’s tapping like Sammy Davis Jr. on speed!

Stevens: “It’s over!”

Riley: “It’s not! Jay Dawg has to set Neilsen on fire!”

Neilsen taps, taps, taps, taps, ta-JD flips over, dragging Neilsen with him, over him and-powerbombs him into the table! The flames and wood explode as the bare-chested beast gets sent through!

Stevens&Riley: “Holy Shit!”

That rings loud and true as Neilsen is now…only out cold as the sheer force with which JD put Neilsen through the table put out not just the Jungle King but the table’s flames as well! JD swears, stands and-falls on his ass! He wipes at the blood covering his face and tries to regain his senses. JD gets to all fours, one knee, stands, walks and-almost trips over-a shovel! JD grabs it, smirks and walks towards the Hardcore King. Neilsen is out on his belly as JD places the handle under Neilsen’s face. He then looks around the crowd…a small murmur grows and…JD stomps on the shovel and the handle cracks Neilsen’s fucking mouth!

Crowd: “Ooooooooh!!!”

Crowd: “… Holy Shit! Holy Shit! Holy Shit!”

Stevens: “JD just busted Neilsen’s mouth!”

Riley: “He did more than that!”

As Neilsen rolls around the ring clutching his face, a rip in his upper lip can be seen, a gash that almost gives him a slanted harelip! Neilsen moves the hand and he’s chipped a tooth! JD smirks at the Hardcore King, hauls him up, places him between his legs, hauls him up in powerbomb position and-falls back, Neilsen gets hung on the top rope, stumbles back, JD rises, gives a double bird, turns, grabs Neilsen for a STUN-Neilsen shoves him away, JD rebounds, left boot to his gut, Neilsen screams but still manages to-side headlock, twist…STUNNER!!!

Stevens: “Neilsen McTwist! McTwist! McTwist!”

Riley: “JD’s out!”

Neilsen stumbles, falls to his back and-both men are down. The crowd rumbles.

Stevens: “Both men are out and this has been a hell of a match. A table, ring steps destroyed… Both men with hideous gashes… Fixed flames… Flaming Kendo stick face-off… Scissors, chains, chairs, belts, extinguishers, powder, trash can lids, golf balls, shovels, barbed wire bats… What the hell else will we see?”

Riley: “That has to wait as both men are still out!”

The fans chant, “Neil-sen! Neil-sen! Neil-sen!,” as both men are down. JD starts to stir as Neilsen’s head just rubs against the mat. JD gets to a knee and Neilsen flips to his gut. JD stands as Neilsen starts dragging his carcass towards the trash can. JD slowly staggers to Neilsen as the Jungler reaches into the can. With a bloody, torn smirk on his face, Neilsen rises with something in his hand. JD charges and-Neilsen’s hand flies! He shouts, “Catch ‘im!” JD-catches something round and pink in his hands inches from his mouth!

Stevens: “Is that-?”

Riley: “It’s-!”

A urinal cake! JD recognizes it, looks at a pissed Jungler, laughs and-Superkick into the cake into-!

Stevens: “JD’s mouth!”

Riley: “JD just ate urinal cake!”

Neilsen falls on his bad leg, grabs JD, brings him down with him and covers the man’s mouth. JD’s eyes are wide and watering. He gags and…

-vomit spews out his nose onto Neilsen’s hand!

Stevens: “Sick!”

Riley: (vomits)

Neilsen gets up and starts blasting away at JD with sandal shots. Neilsen begs JD up. Pleads with him to rise. Waits for him to-JD’s up, Neilsen charges and-JDDDT! Neilsen’s down and the crowd gasps! Michelle can’t believe it and climbs the steps to get a closer look. JD shouts, “That’s it!” He grabs Neilsen, gets his head between his legs, crosses Neilsen’s arms, Michelle’s hands go behind her back, JD-Michelle shouts, JD turns to her and-the crowd explodes as Michelle flashes her tits!

Stevens: (leaps from his seat) “YEAH!”

Riley: “This isn’t PPV!”

JD stares with his mouth wide open and-low blow! The crowd shouts, “ONE!” Neilsen rises, limps, charges the ropes, rebounds, FOOM!-comes late, side headlock, leap, both men spin 180, twist-STUNNER. The crowd explodes for-

Stevens: “Tornado McTwist!”

Riley: “JD’s out!”

Neilsen rises and grabs a Kendo stick. He walks towards the ropes and-FOOM! Stops-but sets the stick on fire! Neilsen raises the stick high to enormous cheers, brings it down and-JD rolls!

Stevens: “What!?! How is JD conscious!?!”

Riley: “It’s righteous fury! This is JD’s Revenge!”

Neilsen swings again, not believing Jay Dawg can even move! And…JD catches it and pushes Neilsen down to his back! Neilsen crawls backwards on the ground from JD! His back hits the trash can, JD shouts at Neilsen while pointing the stick at him, Neilsen reaches into the can, pulls out Jack Daniels, takes a swig, Jamie “Jay Dawg” Drazon brings the stick flying down and-Neilsen spews the liquor into the stick and JD’s face!

FOOM!

The crowd erupts!

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Stevens: “JD’s on fire!”

JD scrambles about, patting at the flames now covering his body and eventually falls out of the ring into the hands of paramedics with fire extinguishers. Neilsen laughs, slowly gets up, grabs the cane and slowly raises the flaming stick to enormous cheers as Michelle finishes putting her bra back on and enters the ring before running to her King. The two share a passionate embrace to a thunderous ovation, Neilsen’s blood staining her lips. The two stare up the ramp as Funyon shouts…

Funyon: “The winner of JD’s Revenge…Neilsen…of…the…(Crowd: “Mother Fuckin’!”)…Junglllle!!!”

“Ooooo…ah ah ah ah!,” hits as Neilsen grabs a mic. He starts to speak over his music.

NotJ: “Brian…you little bitch… Your f**kin’ cronies can’t stop sh*t! Throw whoever, whatever you f**kin’ want at me! (pants) I can take it. I can take more than your bitch ass can bring out. And if you want to hurt me…to stop my f**kin’ path of destruction… Well then bitch…if you want something done f**kin’ right…”

Neilsen gives a bloody broken smile.

NotJ: “…roar mother f**ker…”

Neilsen drops the mic and Michelle helps him limp out of the ring as…

“Ooooo…ah ah ah ah!”

Stevens: “Holy Shit! Neilsen just won the mat! Both men are probably scarred! And I think Neilsen just called out the King!”

Riley: “The Hardcore King cemented his rule! The Hardcore Maniac now knows the dangers of alcohol. Jay Dawg ate a urinal cake! He spewed vomit out his nose! We go from 67 nut shots in one match to just one in this match! AND we saw Michelle’s fucking tits!”

Stevens: “You’ll always remember your first time Bobbi.”

Riley: “Shut the fuck up, but you folks better stay tuned as the World Heavyweight Championship match is up next! Frost, Flesher…the longest reigning Tag Team Champions in the history of that title go one-on-one for the greatest prize in this game and that’s coming right up! Stay tuned as this Storm keeps on rolling!”

The last shot before commercial is of a bloody, smirking Neilsen climbing up the ramp with the help of his elated woman Michelle. Michelle latches onto her King in a strong embrace as Neilsen raises a hand and the crowd explodes…

April 19, 2003

Fade in on a close-up shot of a locker room door nameplate reading “WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION.” Beneath it is a star placard with the name “THE SUPERIOR ONE TOM FLESHER” engraved on it. The camera angle gradually widens, showing Ben Hardy holding a microphone outside the door.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” says Hardy, “I’m standing here outside Tom Flesher’s locker room in order to see if we can get a response to the comments made by Frost earlier.” He stops and knocks on the door. No answer.

Hardy waits a moment, then starts to turn away when the door suddenly swings open, and Tom Flesher stands before the camera in his warmup suit, the SWF World Title belt strapped around his waist. The look on his face is deadly serious.

“Ben?” he says.

“Yes?”

“Give me the mic. Then leave. And don’t come back until you have a platter of Buffalo wings for me. Extra hot.”

Hardy looks confused.

“You heard me, boyo. Oh, and hey. Get me one of those Reubens from that place down the street. Go! Go on!” He ushers Hardy off, taking only the microphone, then turns toward the camera.

“You see, Frost, this is the way things are. You’re a big, beefy Scandinavian guy. You’ve got a little talent, and you’ve got a few titles under your name. Beautiful. But here’s the rub. You try hard, but damn it, you’re just not very bright. Remember how I used to make all your hotel reservations for you? How I handled all the money? How I had to read restaurant menus for you? Don’t even make me remind you how you had to take off your socks to count above ten, and your pants to count over 20.” He pauses, collecting his thoughts.

“So Frost, tomorrow night, Battleground, whenever you get the idea stuck in your head to come after me again… just don’t. I’m going to whip you tonight. I’m going to kick your ass from pillar to post, and I’m going to beat you so hard that your kids are going to feel it... assuming you can ever manage to get yourself laid, of course. I’m going to stretch you in five different directions, and if you don’t tap in the first five minutes of the match, it’ll only be because you’re too stupid, too brutish to do any different. So for god’s sake, Frost, go in knowing what you’re in for, and remember… sweet salvation is only a tapout away.”

With that, Flesher shuts the door, and the camera fades.

April 19, 2003

SWF Storm returns as the camera fades in on the Portland Rose Garden after a commercial for Rent-A-Cop security featuring Mr. Dratch. The camera pans through the arena, catching fans holding up signs such as "Flesher = Snowblind," "The Magnificent Seven Fears Frost" and "I'm Here To See Frost Win The World Title." Finally, the camera pans over to the SmarkTron. On the left, a photo of Tom Flesher in his standard cocky cross-armed pose appears, the SWF World Championship belt slung over his shoulder. On the right, a photo of Frost appears, prompting a pop from the crowd. He stares imposingly from the screen as the words "SWF WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP... TOM FLESHER VS. FROST" scroll across the bottom. Finally, the lens swings over to the announcers' table, where Bobby Riley sits next to "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” says Mark Stevens, “it’s time for tonight’s main event. This one has been building for over six months, ever since Tom Flesher took over as the leader of the Magnificent Seven way back in September at Genesis III. It wasn’t bad enough that Chris Wilson shot Flesher, a brand-new Mag-7 member, straight into the leadership position, but Flesher insisted on showing blatant favoritism to Danny Williams, William Hearford and Ejiro Fasaki while Frost spent his time as the workhorse, often holding the entire stable up on his own.”

“Yeah, he reminded me of Boxer from Animal Farm,” interrupts Riley. “Big ugly guy, too stupid to do anything except work harder and harder whenever someone tells him to. You remember what happened to Boxer, Stevens? He got boiled up for glue when he wasn’t any good anymore. That’s exactly what Tom Flesher did when he dropped Frost. In fact, Frost should consider himself lucky that Flesher didn’t ruin his career!”

“Oh, come on! Frost is easily the most talented big man since the HVille Thugg, and the only person to hold a singles victory over him in recent memory is Nielsen. He’s been absolutely rolling over the competition, and as he mentioned earlier, he’s got an ace in the hold for this evening.”

“Oh, that TFDB thing?” says Riley, genuinely interested. “Yeah, what does that stand for, anyway?”

“Oh, you’ll find out,” chuckles Stevens. “Let’s get this one going!”

Funyon stands in the center of the ring and announces, “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is your main event! It’s scheduled for one fall, and it is for the SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP!” The crowd pops for the main event, and then Funyon says, “Coming down the aisle, the challenger….”

Silverish pyro explodes from the rafters as “Snowblind” by Black Sabbath starts on the sound system. A pale blue spotlight bathes the entrance stage and what appears to be snow flutters down from above onto the stage. Frost walks out from behind the curtain as the lyrics start, and the crowd goes absolutely wild. He pauses, looks out at the crowd, and raises one fist to acknowledge their cheers before starting a purposeful stride to the ring. With plumes of smoke rising from his Frost Brand Cigar, he walks to the ring, finally dropping the cigar to the concrete and grinding it out with the heel of his boot. He then climbs into the ring.

“Hailing from Reykjavik, Iceland, and weighing in at 296 pounds, he is the Velvet Hammer, the Iceman from Iceland, he is FROST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Frost hails the crowd, which continues cheering him like crazy as the music fades. He slides out of the ring as the SmarkTron lights up, a pure, gleaming white. The words “SUPERIORITY COMPLEX” and “MAGNIFICENT SEVEN” fade onto it as Funyon announces, “And his opponent…”

BOOM!

With an explosion of blue smoke and pyro, Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir” rings out through the Rose Garden as the SmarkTron starts showing half-second clips of Tom Flesher’s signature moves cut in with the phrases “SUPERIOR ONE,” “AWARD-WINNING,” “MAGNIFICENT SEVEN” and “WORLD CHAMPION.” After a moment, Flesher steps out from behind the curtain in his blue-and-black warmup suit, the SWF World Title belt wrapped around his waist. He pauses on the stage, looking out at the crowd with a derisive smirk, and then begins to strut to the ring. He reaches the ring and climbs up the stairs, taking a moment to wipe his Doc Martens on the apron before entering the ring and going straight to the center. As the orchestral breakdown of “Kashmir” blares through the arena, he poses in the ring with blue and white pyro exploding from all four corners. Finally, the music fades, and Funyon begins the announcement.

“Ladies, gentlemen, Tom Flesher would like to thank you all for coming out tonight,” begins the announcer. “He’s very happy to see all of you, and he’s especially impressed with the number of you who are showing sympathy for the glorified third-grader across the ring. Those t-shirts you’ve all purchased tonight will go a long way toward paying off the enormous medical bills Frost will have after being stretched six ways to Sunday by the 213-pound submission machine across the ring. So fans, show your TRUE allegiance now by bowing down for the one true faith, bow down to the SWF World Champion, bow down to the Superior One, TOM FLESHER!!!!!!!!!!!”

Flesher smirks as the arena erupts in a chorus of boos. He takes off the World Title, stopping to kiss it before handing it off to referee Matthew Kivell. Kivell holds it up as Frost slides back in and Flesher strips off his warmup suit, and when the two meet in the center, he calls for the bell.

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

As soon as the bell rings, Flesher dives down and attacks with a low single leg! He hooks Frost’s ankle, but the Iceman doesn’t budge! Instead, he reaches down, clubs Flesher across the back with a meaty forearm, and grabs him around the waist to lift him into the air. The fans go wild as Frost slams Flesher to the mat with a power bomb, and Flesher rolls out of the ring to keep Frost from any further attacks.

“Well, I’d say Frost got the early advantage there!” says Mark Stevens. “Flesher tries to catch him with a quick takedown, but Frost saw it coming a mile away and was ready with a counter!”

“Oh, come on! He just got lucky!” says Riley, apparently trying to cover for Flesher.

Frost looks out at the crowd for a moment, then back to Flesher. Tom slides back into the ring, his bearings back, and falls into a more careful defensive stance. He moves toward Frost, who puts up his boxer’s guard and watches Flesher’s moves. Tom shuffles back and forth, looking for an angle, and finally finds a convenient position to attack. He shoots past Frost, grabbing his thigh to try for a high-leg takedown. The Velvet Hammer, though, simply rears back and clobbers him with a forearm to the head! Flesher falls backwards and Frost hooks his head, covering him for

ONE!

Flesher quickly gets a shoulder up, but the crowd cheers Frost on nonetheless. Flesher spins onto his stomach, facing Frost, and tries to back out. Frost stands up, pulling Flesher roughly up by his arm. He starts an Irish whip, but Tom cuts him off with a stiff palm strike to the face! Frost, surprised, doesn’t defend as Flesher throws the arm by. That leaves him open for Tom to drop in and grab his leg for a treetop single. He levers the leg up, then sweeps Frost’s other leg out to send him crashing to the mat on his back. Flesher starts to drop to the mat for a cover, but Frost kicks him away with a boot to the chest. The World Champion backs away as Frost gets to his feet, each man thinking he has the mental advantage.

“Tom Flesher persists, finally getting his takedown to start the match,” says Stevens. “It does him absolutely no good, though, since Frost was ready to defend it as soon as it was done.”

“BS, GSMS,” says Riley. “Frost isn’t nearly smart enough to counter something Flesher does. Nope, he’s just getting lucky with the random, flailing motions he’s doing in lieu of actually wrestling.”

“Oh, give Frost some credit! He knows Flesher so well that you have to expect him to counter all of the basics… and Bobby, I think you’re forgetting that Frost himself is an accomplished amateur wrestler.”

“Sure, in ICELAND,” he scoffs. “Who’s his competition? Some guy who thinks he’s a Viking?”

Flesher and Frost circle around each other, with Flesher not wanting to attempt another takedown and Frost perfectly content to let his opponent make another mistake. Flesher steps back, focusing on Frost’s left leg. Frost drops down, ready to catch him in another low single, but instead Tom jumps into the air and throws a dropkick that hits Frost’s knee! Frost steps back, surprised, and shakes his leg out. As Riley says, “He’s changing it up to catch Frost off-guard,” Tom rolls through and follows it up with a low single leg, hoping for a half crab. Frost reacts almost by reflex, slamming his boot into Flesher’s chest! Tom, caught on his knees, isn’t sure where to go, so Frost hits him with another kick that sends him straight to his back! Flesher looks up, irritated, and slides back out of the ring as the crowd cheers.

“There you have it,” says Stevens, “Frost has taken control of this match!”

“Oh, come on, it’s barely started! Give Flesher some time to warm up!”

“He’s not going to get a chance to warm up with the Iceman from Iceland in there! He better watch it or he’ll get the deep freeze from the Early Winter!”

Stevens, it seems, has been working on his cold puns.

Frost stays in the ring, starting to bait Flesher back into the ring. Tom, angry and frustrated, slides back in and stands up. He stares at Frost, who calmly waves his hands toward his chest, beckoning Tom to lock up. Against his better judgment, Flesher steps in and grabs for a collar and elbow tieup to play into Frost’s technique. Frost simply throws Flesher backwards, taking advantage of the strength gap. Flesher bounces off the ropes, staring daggers at Frost, and simply slaps him hard across the face! Frost tries to block it, but Flesher just slaps him again, screaming, “Don’t you EVER disrespect me like that!” Frost stares at Flesher, his expression unchanging except for a slight furrow in his eyebrows. He waits a beat, then steps forward and slams into Flesher with a lariat! The impact takes Flesher off his feet and sends him arcing to the mat, but as soon as he hits, Frost reaches down and grabs his arms. He lifts Flesher up, then holds him in a double underhook for the Early Winter! The fans scream their approval as Frost starts the lift, but Flesher foils him by standing up and throwing Frost overhead with a back body drop. Tom takes a moment to stretch out his back as Frost shakes off the impact and gets to his feet.

“Fine counter by Tom Flesher,” says Riley smugly. “So what’s this about Frost being able to reverse anything Flesher throws at him now?”

“Well, maybe not everything. Sometimes he’ll have to just suck it up and clobber Flesher with, say, a clothesline.”

Riley coughs, then meekly says, “Shut up.”

Frost gets to his feet, and Flesher quickly spins around and catches him in the jaw with a shotei! With Frost stunned, Flesher grabs an arm and whips him to the ropes. Frost rebounds, and Tom jumps into the air. He catches Frost with another dropkick to the knee, this one sending the Iceman face-first to the mat! Flesher quickly spins behind, mounting Frost’s back and grabbing a handful of his hair to try to get enough space to lock his arm under Frost’s neck for the Superior Stretch Beta! Frost counters by keeping his head pressed against the mat. Tom leans down, pulling his hair with both hands to try to pry it from the canvas, and as soon as he does Frost reaches up and grabs Flesher’s head with both of his hands! He pulls Tom’s head down and under his body, pressing his shoulders to the mat! Kivell counts

ONE!

TWO!

NO!!!!!! Flesher breaks the pin!!!!!! He sits up, but Frost stays on him and slaps on a reverse chinlock.

“What a beautiful move by Frost!” says Grand Slam as the crowd cheers. “That defensive pin was just about as classic as they get!”

“Classic or not, he couldn’t get the win with it, so what the hell does it matter?” Riley is, as always, defensive about Flesher. “I’d give more credit to Tom for knowing to break the damn hold.”

“He doesn’t deserve that much credit, since he was in bad enough position to get caught in the first place.”

“Oh, it’s always something with you.”

Flesher fights the chinlock by reaching up and trying to peel Frost’s hands apart. Frost, however, is just way too strong for Tom to be able to do that, and so the World Champion starts in with both hands. He peels Frost’s hands apart one finger at a time, straining to do even that. As Stevens says, “Frost, making a smart choice by forcing Flesher to expend all kinds of energy to break a hold that doesn’t take any effort to maintain,” the Superior One finally separates Frost’s hands. Having to use both his arms to do so, he pulls Frost’s arm away from his neck and extends it. Flesher pauses, then quickly rolls forward and comes up with Frost locked in a jujigatame! Frost realizes too late that he’s caught in a crucifix armbar and starts sliding to the ropes. Flesher keeps the arm, trying to force Frost to expend as much energy breaking the jujigatame as he just had to. Flesher hyperextends the arm, and Frost hooks one leg over the ropes. Matthew Kivell administers a five-count, but Flesher keeps the hold as long as he possibly can, breaking finally just before “FIVE!” He slides away, getting to his feet. As soon as Frost sits up, Flesher takes a step forward and hammers him with a Yakuza kick! Frost flattens right back out, and Tom dives onto him for

ONE!

But before Kivell can even hit two, Frost kicks out with such force that he throws Flesher to the center of the ring! Flesher stands up in the middle, not sure where to go next as Frost gets to his feet and moves toward him. Almost panicking, Flesher grabs Frost in a side headlock to buy himself some time. The fans immediately begin to boo.

“What a scumbag,” says Mark Stevens, disgusted. “Every time Flesher gets into trouble, he always goes back to some useless resthold and just won’t let it go, even if it’s not getting him anywhere.”

“Hey, what is this? Is it boxing? Is it gymnastics? No, Stevens, it’s WRESTLING. Flesher’s forgotten more legitimate wrestling holds than most of the SWF has ever even seen, and if he wants to wrestle using a side headlock, then by god, he’s going to!”

“Come on, this isn’t what anyone’s paying to see.”

“What, you think the fans who paid to see WRESTLING would rather see him flipping and flopping all ov-”

Before Riley can even finish his sentence, Frost steps in and locks his hands around Flesher’s waist. He arches back, sending Flesher flopping straight onto his shoulders with a backdrop suplex! Flesher flips over onto his stomach, and Frost shakes off the cramp in his neck from the headlock. The fans cheer for his way of breaking the headlock, and Frost acknowledges them with a nod and a small smile.

“Yes, Bobby. I do.”

Frost, now in control, turns around slowly and grabs Flesher by his head, which looks like it’s still ringing from the backdrop. He pulls Flesher to his feet, then nails him in the face with a stiff right hand that would send him back to the mat if Frost wasn’t holding him up. Frost jerks Flesher’s arm, then whips him into the nearest corner. Flesher hits the turnbuckles hard, nearly collapsing but managing to hold himself up using the ropes. Frost charges in, slamming into him like a freight train with a ring-shaking lariat that almost sends Flesher flipping over the top rope! Frost holds him in the ring, then nails him with another right hand. Flesher’s head snaps back, and Frost grabs him in a bearhug. With almost no effort, the Velvet Hammer lifts Flesher up and sets him on the top rope. The fans’ cheers begin to crescendo. A few even begin an impromptu “T! F! D! B!” chant, sensing the secret move about to be revealed.

“This may be it,” says Stevens slyly. “Or, on the other hand, maybe it’s not.”

“You know, I’m a man of integrity. You can tell me… I wouldn’t reveal it to anyone.”

“Trust me, you DON’T want to know.”

Flesher is dazed, but he knows that whatever Frost has planned can’t be good. He opens his eyes halfway and, when Frost starts coming toward him, throws a stiff kick at his chest. This doesn’t faze the Iceman from Iceland, and so Flesher switches his aim and hits Frost in the throat instead. Staggered, Frost sputters and steps back. Flesher, operating mainly on instinct, grabs him by the head and locks on a front facelock, then pushes off the turnbuckle. He spins as he comes off the top rope, surprising Frost, the crowd and even himself by busting out his short-lived tornado DDT finisher!

“THE SPIN CYCLE!” cries Riley. “Out of nowhere! Spin Cycle! Oh my god!!!!!!!!”

Frost lands head-first on the mat, and Flesher stays on the mat for a few seconds, having forgotten the impact the move caused. After a moment, he rolls the stunned Frost over onto his back and covers him.

“Could this be it?” asks Mark Stevens. “Frost sure wasn’t expecting that one!”

Kivell counts

ONE!!

TWO!!!!!!

THRE- NO!!!!!!!! Frost gets his shoulder up, and Kivell breaks the count! Flesher looks up, agitated at not getting the fall. He holds up three fingers and barks, “That was three!” but Kivell simply shakes his head. Flesher glares and stands up, heading for the corner. He pauses, turns around and boots Frost in the head, then nods and walks back to the turnbuckles.

“What’s Flesher doing?” asks Stevens. “He should know better than to attempt any kind of high-risk maneuver against someone as talented and tough as Frost!”

“What you don’t realize, Grand Piano, is that Flesher wouldn’t take a risk like this unless he had calculated it all out and was absolutely sure he’d make it,” says Riley as Flesher climbs up the turnbuckles. Once he reaches the top, he faces the center of the ring and raises his arms triumphantly into the air. As the fans boo their hearts out, the Superior One leaps into the air. “He so rarely goes to the top,” continues Riley. “He’s as graceful as a swan, though.”

Flesher floats through the air, seeming to defy gravity as he angles his head straight down. Finally, after hang time that seems like hours, he slams down…

straight into the mat, as Frost rolls away at the last second! Flesher’s face hits first, followed by the rest of his body, and when Frost rolls him over, it’s evident that he’s stunned. Frost covers him, and Kivell counts

ONE!!!

TWO!!!!

THREE- NO!!!!!!!!!!!!! Flesher gets a shoulder up just a fraction of a second before Kivell makes the final count! Tom rolls over onto his stomach as Grand Slam says, “Flesher may have kicked out, but it looks like he might have put himself in more trouble than he bargained for.”

“Geez, Stevens, you think so?” asks Riley, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Let me rephrase that. He may have cost himself any of the already limited chance he HAD to win the match in the first place.”

Frost eases up on Flesher, giving Tom time to sit up. Once he does, Frost slides in behind him and shoots one arm up for a half-nelson. As the fans slowly begin to cheer, realizing where he’s going with it, Frost reaches across the front of Flesher’s body to try for the cobra clutch! Flesher catches on half a beat later and begins to struggle. He fights the half nelson and the arm pulling, finally relaxing his shoulder to slide out and keep control of Frost’s arm. He spins out to the side, and before Frost knows what hit him, Flesher locks on a jujigatame! The fans’s cheers turn to catcalls and boos as Flesher cranks the crucifix armbar and Frost flails, looking for the ropes that are nowhere close. When he realizes he won’t be able to get a rope break, he sucks it up and does the only thing he can do. He rolls over, facing Flesher, and grabs his own wrist. Taking advantage of the strength disparity, he pulls away powerfully and stands up, leaving Flesher on his back.

“It’s obvious that Frost has Flesher on the run,” says Stevens. “Tom’s attacks are usually so focused, and now he’s just going for anything he can get, just to try to get the tap. Frost’s just too smart to let Flesher get his textbook moves.”

“Flesher’s not scrounging for holds, you imbecile. He’s trying to surprise Frost, and damn it, Frost just keeps getting lucky and falling the right way. It’s unbelievable, but one of these times that horseshoe’s going to fall out of his ass.”

“And why would you know anything about what’s in Frost’s ass?”

“That’s for me to know and his lawyers to find out.”

Frost breaks the hold, but not without hurting his own arm in the process. When he stops to check on his shoulder, Flesher throws a stiff kick that catches him in the solar plexus! Tom jumps to his feet and kicks Frost in the jaw! The Iceman from Iceland staggers back, and Flesher dives in for a low single! He grabs Frost’s ankle, but Frost sprawls forward, kicking his leg back out of Flesher’s grip. He counters with a front facelock, then stands back up and lifts Flesher into the air. A second later, Tom hits headfirst at a 45-degree angle as Frost nails him with the Ice Pick! Flesher rolls onto his back and lays spread-eagled on the canvas as Frost covers him, being sure to hook the leg.

“This could be it!” shouts Mark Stevens.

ONE!!!

TWO!!!!!!

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

NO!!!!!!! Flesher gets a shoulder up! Kivell holds up two fingers as Flesher opens his eyes, dazed. Frost lifts him to his feet and whips him to the ropes. Flesher rebounds, and Frost extends his arm to nail him with another sickeningly stiff lariat! Flesher ducks the impact, though, and stops in his tracks behind Frost. He spins 180 degrees and clocks Frost in the back of the head with a palm strike! With his challenger stunned, Flesher ducks his head under the arm and locks his hands, then arches backwards! Frost lands hard on the back of his neck and flips all the way over, hitting the ropes with his boots. Flesher takes a moment to crack his back after lifting the Icelandic polar bear. After he does, her turns and rolls Frost over for the cover. Bobby Riley screams, “BACKDROPPAH~!” and Matthew Kivell counts

ONE!!!!

TWO!!!!!!!!!

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

Kivell calls for the bell… but waves off the fall when he sees that Frost’s foot is on the ropes! Flesher glares at him and screams, “RING THE BELL!” Kivell refuses, and Flesher scowls, then looks down at Frost, and then kicks Frost as hard as he can in the neck! Even Kivell winces as Flesher unloads his anger, then grabs Frost by the arm and yanks him to his feet. Tom whips his challenger to the closest corner and follows him in with a Yakuza kick that sends him crumbling to the mat! The World Champion doesn’t let up, still angry as hell at Frost for not getting pinned. As Frost tries to get away, Flesher hammers him with kick after kick to the chest, each kick punctuated by a scream of “GET UP! GET UP AND FACE ME!” When Frost doesn’t respond, Flesher turns even redder and plants his boot straight onto Frost’s face, then scrapes it so hard that the momentum nearly carries his whole body through the ropes! Frost instinctively reaches up, protecting his face, and Flesher simply rears back and kicks him in the chest again! He yells, “YOU’RE STAYING DOWN THIS TIME!” before dragging Frost by the ankles to the center of the ring. He then very, very slowly drops down onto Frost, kneeling on him and staring into his half-closed eyes. Matthew Kivell counts

ONE!!!!!!

TWO!!!!!!!

SHOULDER UP!!!!!!!!!!!! Frost very deliberately thrusts one shoulder high into the air, breaking the pin and nearly making Flesher snap.

“Wow!” says Stevens. “Flesher’s so red, there should be steam coming out of his ears!”

“Well if Frost would just give up…”

“He’s NOT giving up. He’s making it clear that there’s nothing Flesher can do to beat him! There’s just no way Flesher’s going to walk out tonight with the title! It’s a foregone conclusion.”

Flesher obviously doesn’t think so, as he reaches down and bitchslaps Frost. The polar bear grabs his hand, and his eyes fly open. Flesher, taken aback, looks almost scared at the anger on Frost’s face. Frost sits up, still holding the wrist, and starts to simply twist Flesher’s arm. Flesher tries to pull away, but Frost stands up and twists the arm harder and harder as the fans begin to cheer louder and louder for him. Flesher winces, then grimaces, and then simply begins to cry out in pain as the Icelandic Iceman continues calmly, but angrily, twisting his arm far past its natural limits. When he feels Flesher’s had enough, he jerks the arm hard and pulls Flesher in for a short-arm clothesline that nearly takes his head off! He covers Flesher for

ONE!!!!!

TWO!!!!!!!!

THREE!!!!!!

NO!!!!!! Flesher kicks out, but in sharp contrast to the World Champion’s fiery anger, Frost stays relatively calm.

“Frost is just staying cool and collected,” says Mark Stevens. “When Tom Flesher wasn’t getting his way, he got angry and sloppy, but Frost is almost, well, Zen in his attacks. He’s focused on winning and won’t let Flesher get under his skin.”

See?

Frost reaches down and pulls Flesher to his feet, holding the limp body of the man he outweighs by nearly a hundred pounds. With ease, he lifts the World Champion into the air and sends him crashing to the mat with a body slam. Frost pauses, clearly debating two courses of action, and then grabs Flesher again. Once again, he lifts Flesher into the air, and once again he uses every ounce of his strength to slam Flesher to the mat so hard it seems like the canvas might give way. The crowd cheers loudly, but rather than cover Flesher, Frost reaches down and grabs him once again. He lifts Flesher up as the crowd cheers loudly, but this time, he doesn’t body slam him. Instead, he sits out, sending Flesher crashing headfirst into the mat with the Snow Plow! The fans go absolutely wild as Kivell counts

ONE!!

TWO!!!!!

THREE- KICKOUT!!!!!!!!!! Somehow, Flesher manages to kick out of the Snow Plow! Frost, however, stays very calm and keeps a grip on his arm. He lifts Flesher and, fluidly, whips him to the ropes. Flesher rebounds, too stunned to do anything, and Frost lifts him up into a power slam position. Without missing a beat, he arches back and throws Flesher to the mat with the Barrel Roll Slam! Frost rolls through, covering Flesher as Kivell counts

ONE!!!!!

TWO!!!!!!

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

NO!!!!!!! Flesher gets his shoulder up with a weak kickout, and Frost simply looks out to the crowd with a small smile.

“Uh oh,” murmurs Riley. “He looks like he’s up to no good.”

“Or maybe he’s up to something great,” says Stevens. “Like maybe… TFDB?!”

Sure enough, Frost grabs Flesher in a bearhug and walks him over to the corner, setting the stunned World Champion on the top turnbuckle. He starts moving towards Flesher, but the Superior One reflexively kicks him away. Frost blocks the kicks, remembering what happened the last time he attempted his top-secret move, and so he gets close enough to Flesher to grab at his neck. Flesher panics, pulling the hands away and landing a quick kick to the chest, then jumping off the top rope! He hooks Frost’s neck and flies forward, finally landing on his back after nearly decapitating the Velvet Hammer with a Hart Attack clothesline off the top rope! Frost’s breathing is shallow, and when Flesher finally gets off the mat, he looks down at the polar bear. He considers going for the pin… but instead…

“Oh yeah, baby!” says Riley. “This isn’t just going to be the end of Frost, he’s gonna make him tap with the Superior Stretch!!!!!!”

Flesher grabs Frost’s ankles and crosses his legs, and Frost fights instinctively as the crowd cheers him on. However, a second later, the crowd goes absolutely silent as Flesher flips him over, locking on the Texas cloverleaf and sitting back. The smirk on his face is priceless, as he knows he’s about to force his former lieutenant to tap out. It’s all over for the Scandinavian ring general. The SmarkTron shows the look on Frost’s face, and it’s obvious that he’s in pain.

He can’t possibly reach the ropes.

Finally, Frost does the only thing he can do.

He kicks his legs as hard as he can, and uses his sheer power to throw Flesher off and break the Superior Stretch! The fans jump to their feet, screaming like crazy, cheering on the next SWF World Champion! Frost stands up, going solely on adrenaline, and grabs the shocked, frustrated and confused Flesher by the head! He clobbers him with one right hand…

Another right hand…

And another…..

And finally a huge haymaker that gets a deafening pop from the crowd! Flesher staggers back and leans on the ropes, but Frost drags him to the center of the ring and bends him over, hooking his arms for the Early Winter!

“The fans are on their feet!” shouts Grand Slam. “They can’t believe that the SWF World Title is going to change hands right before their eyes!”

“Neither can I,” whimpers Bobby Riley pathetically.

Frost starts the lift, but Flesher holds to the mat. He sags his hips, struggling to stay on the mat any way he can. Frost strains, but Tom just won’t let himself be lifted. The Velvet Hammer lets Flesher’s arms go in order to land a few more forearm strikes across Flesher’s back to soften him up. As soon as he does, Flesher reaches up and grabs him by the head, hooks a leg and rolls through for…

“SMALL PACKAGE!!!!! SMALL PACKAGE!!!!!!!” screams Riley over and over again!

ONE!!!!!

TWO!!!!!

THREEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DING DING DING!!!!!!!

As soon as the bell rings, Flesher rolls out of the ring and smiles, a broad, sardonic grin. Frost looks up, more confused than anything else. Funyon announces, “Your winner and STILL SWF World Heavyweight Champion…. TOM FLESHER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“OH MY GOD!” screams Bobby Riley. “FLESHER’S AMAZING! HE’S INCREDIBLE! HE’S SUPERIOR!”

“I have to admit, that was quite a counter,” says Mark Stevens. “But I-”

Frost stands up, now livid. As Flesher taunts him from the outside with the SWF World Title belt, Frost nearly explodes. With no other course of action, he clobbers Matthew Kivell with a sickeningly stiff lariat! Flesher backs up the ramp, smirking the whole time as he watches Frost take out his anger on the referee. The World Champion stands on the stage and pats the giant gold belt over his shoulder as his former stablemate, the one everyone picked to beat him, slaughters the referee out of uncharacteristic frustration. Frost bends the referee over and, too angry to control himself, underhooks his arms. As Frost lifts Kivell into the air and slams him to the mat with the Early Winter meant for Flesher, the Superior One simply takes a sardonic bow and steps back through the curtain. The camera zooms in on Frost’s irate expression, then pans down to the barely-conscious Kivell before...

SWF Storm, April 18, 2003

"SWF: Raising Workrate By Writing Faster"

April 19, 2003

What I had was solid, if short. Here's hoping that King and Mark edit in some good matches too. You'll get a card tomorrow after I find out what happened in those matches.

SWF STORM!!!!! (4/18/03)

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